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 Front Cover
 The coral-fisher and his wife
 Mr. Tompkins' small story
 How a turtle taught a lesson
 King Trisanku - A dream about...
 A village of wild beasts
 Robin's rain-song
 The blue-coat boy
 His own master
 John's first party
 The stars in August
 Around the world on a telegrap...
 The "swooping eagle's" first...
 How birds improve in nest-buil...
 A summer ride in Labrador
 Little Perry; or, what it came...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


BLDN NEH CCLC ICDL UFSPEC



St. Nicholas, vol. 4, no. 10
ALL VOLUMES CITATION SEARCH THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00050
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 4, no. 10
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: UF00065513:00050

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    The coral-fisher and his wife
        Plate
        Page 641
        Page 642
        Page 643
        Page 644
    Mr. Tompkins' small story
        Page 645
    How a turtle taught a lesson
        Page 646
        Page 647
        Page 648
    King Trisanku - A dream about fairies
        Page 649
        Page 650
    A village of wild beasts
        Page 651
        Page 652
        Page 653
        Page 654
        Page 655
        Page 656
        Page 657
        Page 658
        Page 659
        Page 660
    Robin's rain-song
        Page 661
    The blue-coat boy
        Page 662
        Page 663
        Page 664
        Page 665
    His own master
        Page 666
        Page 667
        Page 668
        Page 669
        Page 670
        Page 671
        Page 672
    John's first party
        Page 673
        Page 674
        Page 675
    The stars in August
        Page 676
        Page 677
        Page 678
        Page 679
    Around the world on a telegraph-wire
        Page 680
        Page 681
    The "swooping eagle's" first exploit
        Page 682
        Page 683
        Page 684
        Page 685
    How birds improve in nest-building
        Page 686
        Page 687
        Page 688
    A summer ride in Labrador
        Page 689
        Page 690
        Page 691
        Page 692
        Page 693
        Page 694
        Page 695
    Little Perry; or, what it came to
        Page 696
        Page 697
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 698
        Page 699
    The letter-box
        Page 700
        Page 701
        Page 702
    The riddle-box
        Page 703
        Page 704
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text






















































































































































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THE CORAL FISHER'S WIFE.


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ST. NICHOLAS.




AUGUST, 1877.


[Copyright, 1877, by Scribner & Co.]





THE CORAL-FISHER AND HIS WIFE.

BY KATE BROWNLEE HORTON.


GUISEPPI BARTO and his wife Francesca were
two very happy people. To be sure, they lived in
a little thatched hut that had scarcely anything in
it except a square table, two wooden benches, and
something that looked very much like another
table (a long one, with short legs), but it was a
bed, for on it were a straw mattress, with a dark-
blue cover, and two straw pillows, not very much
larger than good-sized pin-cushions.
But what did it matter about the inside of the
hut, when outside was the glorious Bay of Naples ?
For Guiseppi had built his house just on the shore
of an arm of the bay, so close to the water's edge
that the waves came almost lapping in at the door.
Here he brought his wife and their baby boy Paolo,
who, until the little home was ready, had lived with
Francesca's mother in the Santa Lucia, one of the
poorer streets of Naples.
I can hardly tell you what a delight the new
home was to Francesca. All her life she had lived
shut up in close, dusty, noisy streets, only getting
a breath of pure, fresh air once in a while, when
she had time to run away into the country for a
few hours. For she was a good daughter, and
worked very hard to support her poor, feeble father,
and to lighten her mother's burdens. She plaited
fine white straws, and made beautiful little baskets,
which the merchants were glad to buy from her.
Sometimes she plaited a few bonnets; but it was
not so easy to sell these, even for a very small
sum (perhaps only a carlilno or two), though the

SSmall silver coin, worth eight cents cf our money. t Larg
VOL. IV.-42.


merchants who bought them could easily get a
fiastra for them from English travelers, so fine
and beautiful were they.
Now that she was married, and had some one to
work for her and little Paolo, besides helping the
old mother in the Santa Lucia, the days seemed like
one long, happy dream. No more straw-plaiting;
no more tiresome steps to climb (like the majority
of Italian city houses, the one in which her mother
dwelt was six stories high, and they had lived on
the top floor). She had but to step outside her
cottage door, and behold on one side lovely green
fields stretched far away till they joined the deeper
green of the hill-side slope; on the other hand
lay the glorious bay-blue, calm, and bright; while
far in the dim distance was grand old Vesuvius,
whose lofty head is always crowned with a shim-
mering, wavering smoke-wreath.
Guiseppi had built a kind of little wooden plat-
form outside the cottage door, and there, safe from
the approach of the waves, Francesca would sit for
hours in the dolce far niente$ so dear to the Italian
heart. Little Paolo played beside her, at the
water's edge. His bare feet were always ready for
a "wade," and his only garment, a little white
linen shirt, was not very much in the way when, as
often happened, he wanted to take a bath and a
roll on the sands.
When evening came and he grew tired, and per-
haps a little cross, as tired babies are sometimes,
he would creep into his mother's arms, and there

e silver coin, worth about ten carlini. Sweet do-nothingness.


VOL. IV.


No. 1o.





THE CORAL-FISHER AND HIS WIFE.


rest while she sang her evening song in a sweet,
rich voice that floated far away till it fell, soft and
low, on Guiseppi's ear. And this was the heart-
song the fisher's wife sang:
Far o'er the sea I watch for thee!
Winds, blow gently!-O waves, be still!
Love, return to thy boy and me
Quick! for the night grows dark and chill.
Moon, shine out with a silv'ry ray;
Guide his bark safe over the bay!"

Then she ceased, and soon Guiseppi's clear, bell-
like voice came ringing across the bay;' and as she
listened, her heart was glad,-she knew he would
soon be beside her, for he sang:

"Soft o'er the sea thy voice I hear;
Now I forget the weary day.
God holds the waves, so have no fear;
He'll bring me home safe o'er the bay!
Sing to my boy, and sing of me,
While soft winds waft me home to thee."

Guiseppi's companions called him fortune's
fisherman." Everything prospered with him, but
no one envied him his good luck, for he was so
friendly and charitable, always ready to share with
his less fortunate companions what he earned. He
was a handsome fellow, tall and lithe, and brown
as an Indian almost. His usual dress was a white
linen shirt, and short white linen trousers ; on his
abundant black curls he wore a little brown cap,
and his bare feet and legs looked almost as if they
were carved from some polished stone, so firm and
smooth were they.
Before he was married he had slept in his boat,
like most Neapolitan fishermen, drawing it ashore
and turning it over on its side at night; then, when
the sun-rays came dancing westward in the morn-
ing, he was ready for his work before lazy city-
people were even dreaming of waking !
He made ready all his own simple meals, and
was so expert in preparing macaroni and making
onion soup (the sea-shore was his kitchen, a pile
of sticks his stove, and his only cooking utensil a
little iron pot), that even Francesca could not excel
him. He lived principally on fruit, however, which
is very cheap in Naples. Great luscious oranges,
fresh picked from the trees each morning, delicious
melons, rosy-cheeked apples, and sweet little green
lemons can be bought for a few centimes* each;
and the majority of Italian peasants live almost
entirely on these, rarely tasting meat or wine, ex-
cept twice a year-at Christmas and at Easter.
Even at Christmas they do not care so much for
meat as they do for their cotone that they must
have, or Christmas would not be Christmas to
them. And what do you think this wonderful


cotone is? Just an eel fried brown, with his tail
in his mouth, and three little green lemons inside
the circle he makes But every one who can beg
or borrow or earn a grano has this delicacy for
his Christmas dinner.
Curious fish came to Guiseppi's net. Great
pieces of red and white coral! For he was a coral-
fisher, and often went far from home seeking this
treasure of the sea. He had even been as far as
Capri, and there, in the wonderful "blue grotto,"
-the water of which is as blue as indigo, and colors
everything that touches it,-had dived far down
beneath the waves, bringing some rare and valuable
pieces of coral which were worth many a scudo.t
But this was dangerous work, and Francesca
wept so bitterly when he spoke of diving, that he
promised never more to go, but to content himself
with the coarser pieces which clung to the rocks
near the shore, readily seen beneath the clear blue
of the water. This kind he loosened easily with a
kind of spear, then deftly caught in a large net
before it sank.
When Guiseppi had ii,.:.: 1 many pieces of
coral, he would give himself a holiday, and take
Francesca and little Paolo into the city for a day's
pleasure. First, he would go to the different dealers
to dispose of his coral, leaving it only where he
could get the most scudi for it.
His next visit was always to the jeweler's to buy
something pretty for Francesca, who, like all of her
countrywomen, must have jewelry, if she had
nothing else in the world.
Ear-rings and bracelets are worn even by the
poorest peasants, and often a necklace as well.
Guiseppi loved to see his wife's beautiful brown
neck and arms so adorned; and once, when he
went to Rome to dispose of some rare pieces of
coral that he could not sell in Naples, he brought
her home a necklace of Roman coins, which ever
after made Francesca shine in the eyes of her poorer
neighbors, whose necklaces usually were only strings
of great yellow or blue beads.
* After the jewelry, the next purchase was fruit.
Guiseppi would hail some pretty dark-eyed peasant
maid bearing a sporta (a flat tray-like basket) on
her head, filled with fruit and roasted chestnuts,
and buy the whole of her stock perhaps. This he
and Francesca carried to the mother's (the poor
father was dead now), where they had a royal feast
which even the baby enjoyed. But his special
" treat" on these holidays was as much pure, fresh
milk as he could drink, for that he did not get
every day by the sea-shore.
I must tell you about the Neapolitan milkmen,
for they are funny fellows. They do not have a


SA French coin (copper), but used in Italy, worth the hundredth part of a franc (twenty cents). t A very small copper coin, worth
two-fifths of a cent. t A large silver coin, worth a dollar of our money.


[AUGusT,







THE CORAL-FISHER AND HIS WIFE. 043


milk-wagon and horse as our milkmen have, or
even a pail and dipper. They have only little
three-legged stools tied to themselves (so that when
they want to sit down they are all ready), and they
drive their cows and goats before them to the differ-
ent houses, and milk them at the door in a bowl
provided by each customer. No chance of watered
milk there, you see.
That is not the queerest part of it, though. As
I have said, Italian houses are very high-five, six,
and seven stories often, with a different family
living on each floor. Even the falazzos (palaces)
of the rich are divided in this way. To the first floor


A PLEASURE DR
(not the ground floor) there are sometimes from
eighty to one hundred marble steps leading up.
On this floor perhaps a duke may live; on the next
above, some one lower in rank, till it would not be
impossible that the noble duke's laundress might
live in the seventh story of his palazzo. These
uppermost families usually take goat's milk, because
the goats can go upstairs, even to the very top
floor, and be milked in full view of the customer !
Part of little Paolo's pleasure was in patting the
goat that came up to his grandmother's door, rub-
bing its little nose, and giving it roasted chestnuts
to eat. After it was milked, the goat would turn
and skip down the stairs so briskly that the milkman
could not begin to keep up with it.
Clever animals they have in Italy, I think. At
St. Peter's, in Rome (which has the second highest


spire in the world), there is an immense dome,
whence a most glorious view of the city can be
had; but leading up to it are many scores of stone
steps, too many to climb, so at the foot of these
steps are ciceroni (guides) with little donkeys sad-
dled, which carry people safely and easily up to the
dome for a few granos apiece. Is not that a novel
kind of elevator ?
In the afternoon, Guiseppi would go to the bar-
ber's, to make himself spruce. A curious place it
was, too ; decorated like a church, with an altar in
the center-a real altar, but with brushes, razors,
and pomade on it instead of incense; and out at




























IVE IN NAPLES.
the door hung two large brass basins, instead of
the red, white and blue painted poles our barbers
have for signs.
-|. ,






--' 'l;, ',: ,, ",q'- '- -, '











Afterward, he would take Francesca, her mother,
and little Paolo for a drive in a corricolo out into
the country. A corricolo is a curious kind of open
carriage on very high springs, large enough to hold
fourteen people, but so lightly built that one horse
can draw them all. Beneath it is swung a strong
netting for luggage; when there is a superabund-
ance of children, the boys delight in getting into
this net and having a swing and a drive, both at
the same time. One often sees a corricolo driving
rapidly along, with a curious great bundle beneath
it, which, if examined, would prove to be three or
four boys, all jumbled together but having a glori-
ous time. If the driver is good-natured, he will


i C






THE CORAL-FISHER AND HIS WIFE.


take his passengers as far as they want to go for
two carlini each, and one carlino for buona-mano
(drink-money).
Guiseppi's favorite drive was through the Chiaja
(the Broadway of Naples) out to the Camro Santo,
the beautiful cemetery on a hill-side not far from
the city. It did not make them sad to go there,
for the drive was a most delightful one.
Great trees, among them orange and Indian fig
trees, lined the road; and lovely flowers grew close
up to the very wheel-tracks, giving forth sweet per-
fumes-all the sweeter if, perchance, some of them
were crushed in passing. Sometimes a hearse
would be at the cemetery gate; then Guiseppi
would bow his head reverently while he softly said
an ave (prayer) for the dead.
I am almost afraid we would smile if we should
see a Neapolitan hearse. It is usually painted
white, or some bright color, and heavily gilded.
The undertaker, who walks beside it, is dressed in
scarlet from top to toe ; while, instead of the nod-
ding black plumes we often see, on each of the four
corners sits a rosy-cheeked live boy, in short blue
trousers, white cape, and curious peaked brown


cap ; his bare feet dangling over the sides, and his
bright black eyes fairly dancing with joy at the
prospect of the feast before him For it is a fixed
rule that, on returning from the Campo Santo, these
boys shall have a feast at the first small wayside
inn. And what hungry little fellows they are 1 It
would seem as though they ate nothing from one
drive to another.
One often sees the four sitting in a row on a
little wooden bench, devouring basins of macaroni,
brown bread and melons; while the poor inn-
keeper looks on in despair, for he does not always
get paid for all he gives.
When the evening shadows began to fall, our
pleasure-seekers were ready to drive gayly back to
the Santa Lucia, where a supper of brown bread
and fruit was enjoyed. Then, wishing the mother
felice notto (happy night), Guiseppi, Francesca,
and little Paolo (who was as good as good can be)
would return, in the lovely, soft Italian twilight, to
their little home by the shore, glad to seek the
quiet and rest they found there. So we leave them
to their simple, happy life beneath the sunny skies
of their own beautiful Italy.


-.






~J! I I.




,/ .


HAPPY DAY!


644


[AUGUST,






645


MR. TOMPKINS SMALL STORY.




MR. TOMPKINS' SMALL STORY.

By MRS. ABBY MORTON DIAZ.


LL of you remember that
S we left Mr. Tompkins
S4/pi last month, at the cocoa-
I//' \ nut party, just as he was
I about to tell a story.
'"i "It mIust be a small
S-4 one," said Mr. Tomp-
kins.
"Oh yes; we've agreed
Sto that," said Mr. Plum-
mer.
Mr. Tompkins then
asked if they were will-
Sing it should be merely
S a hen-story.
'-- We '11 take the vote
on that," cried Hiram.
Then, turning to the
company, he said:
Ladies and gentlemen, it is known to you that
our friend Mr. Tompkins has paid his forfeit, and
that he has been judged to redeem it by telling a
story. It was no more than right for him to pay a
forfeit, for he laughed at a quiet old lady who
never did him any harm, and treated her in an
unkind manner. Mr. Tompkins now wishes to
know if his small story may be merely a hen-story.
All who are willing that Mr. Tompkins' small story
should be merely a hen-story, please to say 'Aye.'"
"Aye aye! aye! aye!" was shouted many
times by young and old ; and what with the shout-
ing and the laughing and the hand-clapping, there
was such a racket as set Caper a-barking at the top
of his voice. Josephus crowed, and made his feet
fly, and patted cakes, and tossed up so high that
he nearly threw himself over backward. The cat
hopped out of her private box, her tail standing
straight in the air; and it is more than likely that
the kittens' eyes came open with wonder, which
would have been a very great wonder indeed, see-
ing that the nine days were not much more than
half over!
Mr. Tompkins then told the following short and
simple story, which was written down upon the
spot by the only person present who had a lead-
pencil :

There was once a hen who talked about another
hen in a not very good way, and in not at all a
friendly way. The hen she talked about was
named Phe-endy Alome. Her own name was


Tecdla Toodlum. They both belonged to a flock
of white hens which lived in the far-away country
of Chickskumeatyourkornio.
Now, the one that was named Teedla Toodlum
went around among the other hens, making fun of
Phe-endy Alome, on account of her having a
speckled feather in her wing. She told them not
to go with Phe-endy Alome, or scratch up worms
with her, or anything, because she had that speckled
feather in her wing.
One of the hens that Teedla Toodlum talked to
in this way was deaf, and therefore could not hear
very well. She had become deaf in consequence of
not minding her mother. It happened in this way:
A tall Shanghai roost-cock crowed close to her
ear, when she was quite small; when, in fact, she
was just hatched out of her shell. She had a
number of brothers and sisters who came out at
almost the same time. The Shanghai stood very
near, and in such a way that his throat came close
to the nest, and he crowed there. The chicks
wanted to put their heads out from under their
mother, and see who was making such a noise.
Their mother said:
"No, no,-no! Keep under! You might be
made deaf! I've heard of such a thing hap-
pening."
But one of the chicks did put her head out, and
close to the Shanghai's wide-open throat, too!
and when he was crowing terribly!
Then her mother said:
"Now, I shall punish you! I shall prick you
with my pin-feathers "
And the chick was pricked, and she became
deaf besides; so that, when she grew up, she
hardly could hear herself cackle. And this was
the reason she could not understand, very well,
when the hen named Teedla Toodlum was telling
the others that the hen named Phe-endy Alome had
a speckled feather in her wing.
One day, the hen named Teedla Toodlum
scratched a hole in the sand, beneath a bramble-
bush, and sat down there, where it was cool. And
while she was sitting there, a cow came along at
the other side of the bramble-bush, with a load
of "passengers" on her back. The cows in the
country of Chickskumeatyourkornio permit the
hens to ride on their backs, and when a great many
are on, they step carefully, so as not to shake them
off. In frosty weather they allow them to get up
there to warm their feet. Sometimes hens who





HOW A TURTLE TAUGHT A LESSON.


have cold feet fly up and push off the others who
have been there long enough.
The cow passed along at the other side of the
bush, and by slipping one foot into a deep hole
which was hidden with grass, and therefore could
not be seen, upset the whole load of passengers.
She then walked on; but the passengers stayed
there, and had a little talk together-after their
own fashion, of course. The deaf one happened
to be among them, and after a while, seeing that
the others were having great sport, she wanted to
know what it was all about. Upon this the others
-those of them who could stop laughing-raised
their voices, and all began at once to try to make
her understand. And this is what they said:
Think of that goose of a hen, Teedla Toodlum,
telling us not to go with Phe-endy Alome, because
Phe-endy Alome has a speckled feather in her wing,
when, at the same time, Teedla Toodlum has two
speckled feathers in her own wing, but does n't
know it! "
Teedla Toodlum was listening, and heard rather


more than was pleasant to hear. She looked
through the bramble-bush and saw them. Some
had their heads thrown back, laughing; some were
holding on to their sides, each with one claw; and
some were stretching their necks forward, trying to
make the deaf one understand, while the deaf one
held her claw to her ear, in order to hear the better.
"Ah I feel ashamed !" said Teedla Toodlum to
herself. I see, now, that one should never speak
of the speckled feathers one sees in others, since
one can never be sure that one has not speckled'
feathers one's self! "

That's the way our cow does cried the
Jimmyjohns, as soon as Mr. Tompkins had fin-
ished.
"What Talks about speckled feathers?" asked
cousin Floy.
No. Lets hens stay on her back."
Her parents, or grandparents, or great-grand-
parents, then," said Mr. Tompkins, probably
came from Chickskumeatyourkornio."


HOW A TURTLE TAUGHT A LESSON.

BY E. S. THAYER.


ABOUT thirty years ago, there was a little boy
whose name was John,--a pretty boy, with thick
golden hair, large brown eyes, red cheeks, and
freckles. One day in summer he was playing by
the side of a brook in one of the pastures near his
home in the country. This brook resembled the
boy in some respects. It was in its first light-
hearted youth, and went on its way, leaping and


sporting, like all blithesome young rivulets, who
do not think in the least that they are fast running
from the green meadows and cool mossy forests to
the burdened rivers and tossing seas.
This active little boy first built a dam of moss
and turf and stones ; then he rolled up his trousers
and sailed his little schooner-rigged boat; and,
finally, waded aimlessly over the smooth sand


646


[AUGUST,







HOW A TURTLE TAUGHT A LESSON.


through the cool, running water, dashing the spark-
ling drops to right and left with his frisky feet.
In this way, he came to a large flat rock, over a
portion of whose smooth surface the stream flowed
in a broad, crystal current. A mud-turtle sat on
the rock, half out of the water, enjoying the pleas-
ant sunshine, apparently as contented and happy
as a turtle could be. But when he saw the boy
splashing along at such a rate, he thought it high
time to be gone; perhaps he had previously had
some experience of the tender mercies of boys,
for he made great haste to reach the protecting
mud of the bank.
"Ah, ha, you rogue you think you can get
away, do you?" shouted the youngster. The
next instant he was kneeling on the slippery
rock, with both outstretched hands over the
frightened prisoner. John had been carrying
his shoes-his stockings stuffed into them-with
one hand; but now, in his eagerness to secure
the turtle, he dropped them upon a part of the
rock covered by the stream, and, turning side-
wise as they fell, the water rushed in, filling
them to the very toes.
There !" exclaimed John, half in real and
half in affected vexation, you have made me
get my stockings wet, and you must be punished
for it. I shall turn you over on your back, and
you may stay there, sir, until I come back from
school to-night."
That night, John came home from school,
with a group of school-fellows, over the village
road, instead of across the pasture, forgetting
all about the turtle he had left on the rock.
Vacation began the next day, and John was
to spend a whole month with his brother, who
lived in Boston. You can understand the excite-
ment which attends a boy's preparations for his
first journey; but a country boy's first visit to
Boston exceeds, perhaps, any experience of yours
in that line.
The month passed swiftly away, and John re-
turned home with brighter eyes and prouder step.
The world had been revealed to him on a broader
scale. What had he not seen ? He was a hero in
the opinion of his school-mates. He had enough
stories to tell of his adventures to last through the
winter, besides having brought home the most
interesting book and the handsomest knife that
Boston could furnish. If possible, it was a merrier
boy than before who now bounded through the
dear old pasture. There were several dams to be
visited by their young proprietor, one somewhat
extensive, with a miniature water-wheel and mill
at the side. The dam had been partially washed
away by a violent rain, and an accumulation of
moss had clogged the wheel of the mill.


Ah I see there has been a freshet, and my
mill is damaged. A clear loss of two thousand
dollars, and only insured for eight hundred It
must be repaired to-morrow, and I shall have to,
hire a hundred workmen These freshets are
terrible things for manufacturers, I declare i "
Leaving the scene of this disaster, he ap-
proached the smooth white rock, which was always
a favorite resort, and near which, on the bank of
the stream, there was a structure of brick about




,. ._


t"HE SAILED HIS LITTLE SCHOONER-RIGGED BOAT."

two feet high, which this young man called my
summer residence on the Hudson."
Six yards from the rock, he paused suddenly,
with his eyes intently fixed upon some object before
him. Step by step, he drew nearer without once
moving his eyes, which were now full of horror
mingled with a hopeful doubt ; but as he proceeded
the doubt vanished, and the horror spread over
his whole countenance. There lay the turtle on
the rock, upon its back, as lie had left it,-its ex-
tended legs and protruded head shriveled and
dry, scorched by the blazing suns of four August
weeks.
There was no need of gentle pity now,-no
opportunity for showing humane kindness to a
dumb, helpless, harmless creature. No more





648


HOW A TURTLE


would it gladly hide itself in the protecting earth,
or hasten in fright from the dreaded hand. What
vain struggles to regain its feet What weariness
and despair What agony when the noon suns
beat down What pangs of slow starvation As
all this passed through John's mind, the rock
seemed no longer the old familiar pleasant spot,
but like a haunted place.
With pallid face, he turned away, and hurried


TAUGHT A LESSON


homeward in the gathering twilight, nor stopped
until he reached the cheerful room in which his
mother sat sewing and his father reading.
That boy has long been a man, but the years
that have passed have by no means worn away the
remembrance of this scene, or the impression it
made on his mind; and on that memorable even-
ing John took his first lesson in thoughtfulness and
kindness toward dumb animals.


OPENING THE LILY.


4 Wgi
-- I


!9


__


I


''---

/; -=- -----.I-~







A DREAM ABOUT FAIRIES.


KING TRISANKU.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.


VISWAMiTRA the Magician,
By his spells and incantations,
Up to Indra's realms elysian
Raised Trisanku, king of nations.

Indra and the gods offended
Hurled him downward, and descending
In the air he hung suspended,
With these equal powers contending.

Thus by aspirations lifted,
By misgivings downward driven,
Human hearts are tossed and drifted
Midway between earth and heaven.









A DREAM ABOUT FAIRIES.

B IH. H.


I SUPPOSE none of you, dear children, believe in
fairies. When I was a little girl, I used to believe
in them just as much as I believed in my father or
mother. In those days (it was a great many years
ago) children did not know so much as they know
now. It almost frightens me sometimes to see
how very quickly boys and girls are expected to
learn things now, how many books they have, and
how much they are like grown people in everything
except their size. I think that the old-fashioned
ways were best; that we had a better time than
you have. We had only a very few books, and used
to read them over and over and over again, till we
knew them by heart; and we used to go in calico
gowns to afternoon parties that began at three and
left off, with a good supper of bread-and-milk and
baked apples and caraway cookies, at six; and we
had just one present at Christmas and one at New
Year's, and one on our birthday, and that was all.
And last, but not least, we believed in fairies.
Many is the time that we have been out in the
woods on Saturday afternoons to look for fairies;


we used to take hold of hands and make a circle
around the biggest toadstool we could find, and walk
slowly around it, and all say out aloud together:
'Fairies: fairies! fairies! \e
Have come here fairies to see."

But we never saw a single one. Yet that did not
shake our faith in the least. We only thought that
we had not gone to the right wood, or that the
fairies did n't like us well enough to show them-
selves.
Now, I dare say you will think that all this is
very silly, and that your ways and plays to-day are
a great deal better than our old ways and plays ;
and that it is very stupid for old people to be always
saying that the old times were best; and, at any
rate, that I would better go on and tell my dream,
if I am going to tell it at all. As a general thing,
it is not worth while to tell one's dreams ; but this
dream was such a pretty one, I thought I would
write it out. Even if we do not believe in fairies,
they are very nice to dream about; and I really


649






A DREAM ABOUT FAIRIES.


did dream this whole pleasant dream, this very
last night, just as I am going to tell it to you this
morning.
I dreamed that I and several of my friends were
in a most beautiful wood. The trees were all pines
and firs, and were so high that we could not see
the tops of some of them. There were also beauti-
ful gray rocks piled up one above another in great
ledges, so high that the trees growing on their tops
looked like little bushes. Almost all the pine-trees
had clusters of shining brown cones on their upper
branches. They were so high that nobody could
reach them. Yet they were 16w enough for us to
see distinctly how pretty they were. They were
not like any pine-cones I ever saw before; they
were as large as a good-sized tumbler, and looked
as if they were made of dozens of bright brown little
marbles knotted together.
Oh, how pretty they are we all exclaimed.
" How nice it would be to pile up a great pile of
them and set it on fire They would burn splen-
didly! "
You shall have all you like, ladies and gentle-
men," said a queer little piping voice close by ; and
when we turned, there we saw a little man, who
was dressed in common clothes, and had no coat
on. He looked like any common laborer in his
shirt sleeves, except that he was only about three
feet and a half high, and had an old wrinkled face,
with a gray beard; so we knew at once he must be
a fairy.
I can give you all you want," he said in a most
friendly tone. I '1 have my people throw them
down to you from above there. But stand away,
while I let the water on "
Dear me, how we all jumped Before the words
were out of his mouth, down came a great roaring
water-fall from the top to the bottom of the rocky
ledge I told you of. I really think it was the most
beautiful water-fall I ever saw, for the water was so
deep that it came up nearly to the tops of the
shorter trees and bushes, so that their leaves made
a lovely green fringe on each side of the water.
We stood on one side and watched. We were a
little afraid of it, it roared so and was so swift ; but
it all sank into the ground at the bottom of the
ledge, and disappeared. The little fairy-man, in
his white shirt sleeves, stood at the foot of the fall
and caught the cones, one by one, as they came
bobbing down on the water.
Throw faster Throw faster he called up;
and faster and faster came the cones. We could
see them falling down into the water from the tops
of the high trees, as fast as if they were raining
down. There must have been a hundred little
fairies up in the tree-tops breaking them off and
flinging them down. In a very few minutes there


was a pile of them on the ground as high as our
heads, and we cried out to the fairy:
Oh, enough enough Don't let them break
off any more."
"Enough!" he said, "have you really got
enough ? That's the first time I ever knew any of
your race to get enough." Then he called out
something in a very loud tone, in words we could
not understand, and what do you think began to
come down that water-fall then !
Beautiful china dishes, and, on them, all sorts
of good things to eat-oranges and apples and
bananas, and cake and nuts and raisins, and a
great many things that we never had seen before,
and did not know the names of. It was the oddest
thing to see the dishes come sailing down that
water-fall, never spilling a single apple, or orange,
or nut; and when they reached the bottom, it
almost seemed as if each dish gave a jump into the
fairy-man's hands. He gave them to us so fast we
could hardly find places to set them; there was
only one small table, and how that got there I don't
know, for I am quite sure it was not there when
we first went into the wood. On this table we
piled the dishes one above another, and then under
the table, and then all around on the ground, and
pretty soon we cried out again, "Enough! enough!
Don't give us any more."
Enough! I should think so," said the little
fairy-man. If you had n't been pigs, you'd have
called out enough' long ago."
This mortified us dreadfully, and we were just
beginning to explain to him that the only reason
we had not called out "enough" sooner, was that
we were half frightened, when he exclaimed:
"Never mind! never mind Leave all you
don't want; my people '11 come and get it. Sorry
they're too busy to-day to come and wait on you; "
and up he ran on the water-fall, like a spider on a
wall, quick as a flash to the very top of it, and then,
in another flash, the water-fall seemed to turn into a
sort of sheet of silver, and he drew it up after him
as a sailor draws up a rope, hand over hand; and
in less time than I have taken to write the words,
there stood the ledge of rocks all bare and dry, just
as it had been before; and we began to wonder
whether, after all, there had been any real water-
fall there. Then we thought we would taste some
of the good things on the table, and we all stood
up around it, and I took off the cover of one of the
biggest dishes, and just as I was taking out an
orange, dear me, if I did n't wake right up out of
my dream, and there I was all alone in my own
little bed, just as usual, and the moon was shining
into my room about as white and silvery as the
fairy water-fall had looked.
I was so vexed that I had waked up before I had


650


[AUGusT,






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


taken one bite of the fairy-man's good things!
Was n't it provoking ? Seeing that it was nothing
but a dream after all, it might just as well have
lasted till morning, and given us a good feast.


Now, go to bed early to-night, and see if you
can't dream a dream as nice as this. Even if we
don't believe in fairies, they 're lovely to dream
about.


A PRETTY little boy and a pretty little girl
Found a pretty little blossom by the way;
Said the pretty little boy to the pretty little girl
" Take it, 0 my pretty one, I pray !"

Said the pretty little girl to the pretty little boy:
" I must hold my little dolly, sir, you see;
So, I thank you very kindly, but I 'd very much prefer
You should carry it, and walk along with me."


.-.-.---.


A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.


NOT long ago I paid a visit to a tiger. I did not
owe this tiger a call, for I am very glad to say that
he had never been to see me ; but I wanted to see
him, and so I went to his house.
He did not live alone. He had a room in a large
building, where there were a good many other
boarders. Some of these were leopards, others
panthers or lions; there was another tiger, and on
the premises might be seen almost every kind of
wild animal, from alligators to zebras.
I particularly desired to see this tiger, because he
was a very large royal Bengal tiger, and I know of
no beast so powerful and handsome as one of these.
But there was not an animal in the establishment
that I would not have preferred to him as a close
acquaintance.
It was near his dinner-time when I called, and I
think he would have been very glad to have me
come in and dine with him, but I had two objec-
tions to this. In the first place, the beef he always
had for dinner was too rare for me, for it was not
cooked at all; and, besides, there were some things
which I wanted to do the next day.
So I stood and admired his magnificent coat of


striped fur and his graceful movements as he sat
close to a great iron door which led into the next
cage, pawing and biting at his reflection in the
smooth iron as if he had been a playful kitten in-
stead of one of the most savage animals on the face
of the earth; and then I left him, and went on a
little farther to see a lion.
The place where these animals lived, and still
live, is the Philadelphia Zoblogical Gardens, which
I mentioned last year when I wrote about Amer-
ica's Birthday Party."
These gardens are in Fairmount Park, on the
western side of the Schuylkill River (which runs
through Philadelphia), and as they cover thirty-
three acres, you can easily see that a great many
animals can be accommodated there. The grounds
are very beautiful, and are shaded by many fine
large forest trees. There is a lake where the swans
and the ducks and geese swim about, and where
the cranes stand on one leg and watch for little
fishes and frogs. Here and there are large houses
for the different kinds of animals or birds, and there
are a number of smaller buildings; but a great
many of the inhabitants of the gardens live out-


651






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


of-doors in fine weather. Altogether, there are
houses and inhabitants enough to make up a good-
sized village.
And now I will tell you what I saw that day, after
I had finished my visit to the tiger.
When I reached the lion's cage he was hard at
work, roaring. What there was to roar at I could
not see. Perhaps he was hungry, or perhaps he
wished to attract attention. If the latter was his
object, he certainly succeeded, for all the visitors in
the house, and all the animals in the cages, seemed
to be excited by his noise. The visitors crowded
up close to his cage to get a good look at this great
beast, standing there, throwing up his head and
roaring exactly as he would roar if he were in
some African forest, roaming about in the dark-
ness of the night and hunting for a bullock or deer
or man, upon whom he might satisfy his bloody
hunger. But what a different position he now
occupied Not six feet from his nose were ladies
and gentlemen, boys and girls, and even some very
little children; and although a few of the children
shrank back a little as roar after roar came.from
the lion's throat, nobody seemed to be much afraid.
Most of the people there had heard of the roar of


wanted to go see how he did it, or it might have
awakened memories, in some of them, of nights in
their native land when they had heard that roar,
while they had been out on hunting expeditions
on their own account.
This lion was a very fine fellow-one of the finest
I ever saw. He had an enormous head and a
splendid mane, and although the rest of his body
looked a little too thin and lanky for the size of his
head, he was a very grand-looking animal, and
when he stopped roaring and lay down, there was
something about him which seemed to say : I am
very strong and very dangerous to my enemies and
to my prey, and if you were out with me on one of
my native deserts, I could frighten you nearly to
death just by roaring at you. But I am quite mild
and gentle now, although I do occasionally make
a good deal of noise. If the keeper will let you,
you may come into my cage and stroke my mane."
There was nothing about the tigers or the bears,
or any of the smaller animals, which seemed to say
this, and it may have been a mistake to suppose
there was any such thing about the lion, but he
certainly looked as if he would disdain to harm any
living creature-except when he was hungry, or


THE TIGER,
the lion, and they were very anxious to see how it annoyed, or angered by an attack, or anxious about
was done. his dinner when it was a little late, or cross on
The animals in the other cages-the leopards, account of having his room put to rights by the
the hyenas, the panthers, the lynxes, the wild cats, keeper, or in a bad humor, or excited from any
and even the Bengal tigers-seemed disturbed cause whatever.
while the lion was roaring. Perhaps they, too, In a cage not very far away from the lions was a


652


[AUGUST,






A VILLAGE OF


bear-not a very large fellow-whose name seemed
to puzzle a good many of the visitors. He was
called The Sun-bear," and many persons sup-


/
< 4'


I
S U ,
L '


THE LION.

posed this name was given him because he has on
his breast a yellow place which looks something
like a rude picture of a sun-rise. But the reason
for his name is his habit of lying in the sun like a
dog. He is a native of Borneo, and is different in
his disposition from most bears, especially the
Polar bear, who adores ice and snow, and would
rather never see a menagerie than be obliged to
take a nap in the sun on a warm day. But animals
have their little peculiarities, just as we have.
This building, which is called The Lion and
Tiger House," contains a great many animals,
most of them savage, meat-eating beasts. There
was a lioness there who had a very different dis-
position from her grave and dignified husband.
She was very uneasy and cross, and as I was stand-
ing looking at her, she sprang at me with a growl.
There were strong iron bars between us, but I
involuntarily stepped back. I don't like wild beasts
to spring at me.
In the next cage to this lioness was her son, a
little lion-cub, with "bandy legs," and the separa-
tion from him may have soured her temper. I am
not sure but that when her husband was roaring,
he was telling her that there was no use in her
showing such a bad temper. She just worried her-
self by it, and the people laughed at her-after they
had jumped back once or twice. There were three
half-grown lions near by, but they were very quiet
and sleepy-looking.
Half a dozen leopards-some black and some
spotted-occupied different cages in the building.
Some of these were very fine animals, bounding
about in their large cages in the most graceful
manner. I also particularly noticed a large puma,


WILD BEASTS. 053


which is, as you may know, an American animal,
and is sometimes called panther, catamount, or
cougar.
Near the Lion House is a smaller building, which
is appropriated entirely to monkeys, and is there-
fore a favorite resort for the children, many of whom
learn a lot of curious tricks by watching these funny
animals. Here are monkeys of all colors, and all
sizes, and all kinds. There are about fifty of them
in a great high cage in the middle of the room,
and here you may see them climbing up swinging-
ladders, hanging from ropes, dropping down on
each other's heads, pulling each other's tails, and
doing everything that they can think of to tease and
bother each other-all skipping and jumping and
tumbling and chattering as if they had been in
school all day, and had just got out for a little play.
Some of these monkeys look like little old men, with
gray hair and beards, and you might suppose that
they were much too grave and reverend to ever
think of cutting up monkey-shines. But if you
watch one of these little old fellows, who is sitting,
looking wisely and thoughtfully at you, as if he
were just about to explain the reason why the sun
gives us less heat in winter, when it is really much
nearer to us than it is in summer, you will see
him suddenly get up, and instead of taking a piece
of chalk to show you on a blackboard the relative
positions of the sun and the earth at the different
seasons, he will make a tremendous jump, and

I .- -









s-^



\'




THE LIONESS.

seizing some other monkey by the tail, will jerk
him off a swinging ladder quicker than you could
say "pterodactyl."
It would be fun to stand and watch the monkeys
for hours, for they are continually doing some new
and ridiculous thing; but there is so much to see in






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


these gardens, that I did not stay very long in the
monkeys' house.
The next building I visited was the Aviary, or
bird-house. Here are gathered together hundreds
,of beautiful and curious birds. There seemed to be
birds from all parts of the world, who would cer-


small fry as may be found on shore. Then, again,
he is peculiar because he acts more like a cat than
a bird in hunting for small game. He will sit and
watch a mouse-hole just like a regular old tabby-
cat, and when the mouse ventures out, he will
pounce upon it as quickly as any puss you ever


LAUGHING-JACKASSES.


tainly never have seen each other-at least, most
of them never would-if they had not been brought
together in this house.
Among the birds which interested me most was
an enormous pigeon, the largest of the pigeon tribe.
This fellow, who is about as big as a small turkey,
is called the crowned-pigeon, and comes from
Java and some of the neighboring islands. He is a
splendid bird, with a wide-spreading crest on his
head, which gives him a very distinguished and
imposing air. If size and appearance count for
anything, this should be the king of pigeons.
Some other birds which attracted my attention,
not on account of their beauty but because of their
.oddity, are called laughing-jackasses." The
name may strike you as a very strange one to give
to a bird, but there is a reason for it. In Australia,
where these birds come from, the early settlers used
to hear in the woods strange noises which sounded
as if they were made by a jackass who had heard a
good joke, and was laughing heartily at it. The
people could scarcely make up their minds that a
jackass could hear enough jokes to keep him
laughing such a time, and so they searched for
the merry individuals and found that they were
these birds, who would sit on a tree and at regular
intervals burst into this braying kind of laugh.
There are several peculiarities about the laugh-
ing-jackass. In the first place he is really a king-
fisher, though he seldom goes near the water.
Therefore, of course, he cannot carry on his regu-
lar business,-or what ought to be his regular busi-
ness, if his name is correct,-and so he contents
himself with catching lizards and mice, and such


saw. It may be that he laughs so much because
he continually sees for himself what an utterly
absurd kind of bird he is.
On a long perch, in a very wide cage, sat a long
row of dear little birds of different colors and sizes,
but all very small. These were African finches,
and it was very amusing to see them sit there per-
fectly quiet until some one came to one end of the
cage. Then every one of these little birds turned
its head to see who it was. When the person went
to the other end, they all turned their heads, at the
same moment, in that direction. They moved so
quickly, and in such perfect order, that you might
have thought they had been drilled by a military
officer.
As I had not time to look at all the birds, I
passed around among the long-legged herons,
bright-colored pheasants, gorgeous chattering par-
rots, pretty little paroquets, finches of all kinds,
-black, white, red, green and purple,-grossbeaks
(which are finches with broad, thick beaks, and
some of them with beautiful scarlet and black
plumage); mino-birds, which come from India, and
talk as well as, or even better than, the most con-
versational parrots; and the weaver-bird, of which
you may have heard under the name of the sociable
grossbeak, and which seems to be a very good sort
of bird, although nothing like so much of a curi-
osity as its nest must be.
There were also some toucans, about as big as
crows, with enormous bills as large as the claws of
lobsters, and of very much the same shape. Some
of these great bills, half as big as the bird, were
red, and others were dark-colored. Some of the


654


[AUGUST,






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


cockatoos were of a beautiful rosy color, and one
kind, from Australia, looked exactly as if it had
been rosy once, but had been washed and had
faded. The cock-of-the-rock, from Demerara, is
a handsome bird. He is of a bright orange color,
and must look like a ball of fire when he is flying
in the sun.
I also noticed a lot of American birds: wood-
peckers, robins, thrushes, bluebirds, blackbirds,
and many other small chaps with whom most of us
are well acquainted.
Outside, swimming in the lake, or rambling
about on the shore, are a great many water-fowl,
such as swans, both black and white, ducks of
various kinds, a great goose from New Holland,
cranes, herons, and most other birds who care for
aquatic sports.
A little farther on were some handsome giraffes.
These animals, although they were not all full-
grown, could easily reach up to the top shelf of any
closet you ever saw. And I think they would do
it, if they had a chance, for they seem, most of the
time, to be poking their heads up in the air to see
if there is anything in the upper part of the build-
ing which they have not noticed before.
There are a great many strange things about
this long-legged, long-necked creature, but he has


cumstances. So, if this story be true, we may class
these creatures among the mutes of the animal
kingdom. They have not the advantages possessed
by human mutes, for they cannot talk with their
fingers. But perhaps animals who hold their heads
so much higher in the world than any other living
creatures, do not feel the necessity of making sounds
to express their sentiments. There are some sen-
timents which they can express admirably with
their heels.
I did not spend much time at the Elephant
House, where not only elephants, but some other
large animals, who do not care for meat, seem to
be enjoying themselves in a quiet way. There
were two large elephants and two little fellows-
one of them just about big enough for a boy and
his little sister to ride. He was about as high as a
table, and would have been very glad, I expect, to
have had some boys and girls to play with him.
But I had seen many elephants, and so I passed on
to another animal with whom I was not at all
familiar.
This was the rhinoceros, and an enormous creat-
ure he was. His body is nearly as big as that of an
elephant, though he is not so tall, for his legs are
very short. He is of a muddy mouse-color, and
his skin seems as thick as a board floor. He has


---- ~~-- ,-,
LEOPARDS.
one peculiarity which is not, I think, generally very small eyes, a big head and nose, and one of
known. It is said that the giraffe is one of the the most dreadful mouths you ever looked into. I
quietest creatures on earth, for he has never been happened to look into it, for he yawned just as I
known to utter a sound of any kind, under any cir- stopped in front of him, and I assure you that


655






656 A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS. [AUGusT,

front of each of these ladders is
1' i i a tall iron shield, fastened at such
'a distance from the ladder as to
I. allow room for a man to slip behind
I ..! it, but not enough room for a
,' '' 'rhinoceros. So, if the beast gets
'' bad-tempered, when his keeper is
''i I cleaning his room or making his
bed, the man can jump behind the
screen, and "scoot," as the boys
.i' i l i'l' l. '' i' Ii would say, up the ladder. W ith-
i .. '* out some protection of the kind
few men could climb a ladder fast
,I. I enough to get out of the reach of a
.. rhinoceros at their heels.

JII' r '.. mal,-that formidable weapon of
IIIII 1 "'1 .. which we have heard so much,-I
., .' I, would say that you must not ex-
I' ,1'" pect to see, on a rhinoceros in a
S. .''''1'!",1, menagerie, a horn such as you will
'' iIlilMii.i', animal. In captivity, the rhinoce-
,:,' i'''l ros rubs his horn against all the

.''reach, and so keeps it pretty well
worn down. It looks more like a
horny lump on his nose than any-
-. thing else. I suppose it is the
natural business of a rhinoceros
... to work with his horn, just as a
gardener feels it his business to
that mouth would hold a bushel of potatoes. I may work with a spade or hoe, and if the animal cannot
slightly overrate its capacity, but I will not take have succulent reeds and. canes and young trees
back more than two or three of
the largest potatoes. I ,1', 1 1 111I '1 1
When you look at the cage or i 1 IN '
confined, you will get an idea of
what the keepers think of the a a
strength of a full-grown rhinoc- I, .
eros. The apartment, which is ,.
quite large and commodious, is i1 i
inclosed on each side by strong i
stone walls, so thick that even a 1
rhinoceros cannot break through
them. In front is a row of iron
bars,-I might say tall iron posts,
-standing about a foot apart,
which are many times stronger
than those used for any other
animal on the grounds. At the =- ---
back of the den is a strong wall,
and so Mr. One-horn is shut in THE RHINOCEROS.
pretty securely. At each corner
of the den, at the back, there is an iron ladder run- to rip and tear, he uses his horn on what he
ning up to a little gallery which leads outside. In can find, even if it be stone or iron. While






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


I was watching him, he began banging his great
head against his iron bars, and the concussion
seemed to shake the building. "Bang! bang!
bang!" he went, like a great sledge-hammer, and
if the bars had been no thicker than those which
confined the lions and tigers, that rhinoceros would
have walked out of his cage and would probably
have had a good time, strolling about the grounds,
looking at the monkeys and the squirrels, so dif-
ferent from himself.
But of course I went to the bear-pits. These are
three large round pits, with stone walls and floors,
and quite deep. They are built in the side of a
hill, so that visitors can go up the hill and look
down at the bears in the pits. In the middle of
each pit is the trunk of a stout tree with a good
many short branches left on it, for the bears to
climb up and get a better look at the good people
who come to see them. If you go down the hill to
the back part of the pits, you can stand on a level
with the bears, and look at them through a grating.
But the best view of them is to be had from the top
of the pits. Here were the grizzly bear, the most
savage and powerful wild beast on this continent;
the black bear, not very ferocious, and common
enough in the forests of some of the New England
and Middle States; the cinnamon bear, who looks
like cinnamon, but does not taste like it, although
his flesh is said to be very good indeed, and
much better than any other kind of bear-meat;
and the brown bear, who is a cross fellow, and next
to the grizzly in point of ferocity.
Among the smaller houses on the grounds is a
yellow two-storied edifice which looks much older
than the buildings I have already mentioned. It
is much older and possesses an historic interest.
It was built by the grandson of William Penn, and
called by him Solitude," because it then stood,
all by itself, out in the wild woods, miles away from
the little city of Philadelphia. This gentleman,
John Penn, was of a poetic disposition, and wanted
some quiet spot where he could be free from all
noise and disturbance. So he built his house here.
The house now belongs to the city, and is perma-
nently leased by the Zoilogical Society. And who
do you think have been living there until a short
time ago? Snakes!
Yes, rattlesnakes, and black snakes, and boa-
constrictors, and ever so many other kinds of
snakes, were lying about there in cages, and some
of them were formidable looking fellows. These
snakes have a new house now, built expressly for
them. I saw them once before, when they lived
at Solitude," but they seemed just as comfortable
in their new home, although it possessed no his-
toric interest whatever. In a cage in the center of
the house were several boa-constrictors, the largest
VOL. IV.-43.


of all snake-kind. One of these fellows was five or
six inches thick, and probably twelve or fifteen feet
long. That is a good size for a snake, as you


* Oil M4


-, -- ---.-


.. .' ,. ..
---



1.1
'I I Ii,





TAKING A CLIMB.

know; but I have always been disappointed in the
size of boa-constrictors. I read so much, when a
boy, about their : .l ..-. goats and sheep,-
and I have even known an ox to be mentioned
in this connection (though this was probably a
"stretcher"),-that I want my boas very large-
as thick as barrels, or nail-kegs, at the least.






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


The rattlesnakes were the most wicked and spite-
ful-looking creatures there, and they are really the
most dangerous, although there are copperheads,


S >- -

All the cages are made with glass sides, so there

"^. ,,! ,,"



A PRAIRIE-WOLF.
and moccasins, and other poisonous snakes in the
collection.
All the cages are made with glass sides, so there
is no dangerin going quite close to the rattlesnakes,
though they may spring their rattles, and dart out
their forked little tongues at you, as they did at me.
Besides the snakes, there were in this house some
turtles, some young alligators, and an enormous
frog.
All these creatures lead very quiet lives, and as
far as noise is concerned, none of the recent inhab-
itants of "Solitude" would have disturbed John
Penn had they lived there in his time. But they
might have made it lively for him in other ways.
There is a house for eagles, owls and hawks,
where these grave birds sit all day and think.
They do not seem to care for exercise (though they
might be willing to take a good long fly if they had
a chance), and if they do not pass their time in
thinking, I am sure I have no idea of what they do.
Here is our national symbol,-the "bird of free-
dom,"-called the bald eagle, because the top of
his head is white. Here are the golden eagle, the
Australian wedge-tailed eagle, and other kinds.
Did you know that eagles are particularly fond of
cats as food ? This taste is said to prevail among
all classes of eagles, and shows that these birds are
of brave and determined natures. For it can be
no great fun to fly away with an angry cat.
Among the owls, the great horned owls are very
conspicuous, and the hawks-chicken-hawks, spar-
row-hawks, etc.-are interesting, especially to
farmers' boys, who have spent many an hour hang-
ing about the barn-yard, waiting to get a shot at
one of these keen-sighted, swift-swooping creatures.
Here and there are small houses for rabbits, wolves,
foxes, raccoons, and other animals, but I did not
visit them all. It would take at least a day to get
a good look at all the animals on the grounds.
One of the most interesting features of this ani-
mal show, and the one which distinguishes it from
ordinary menageries, and gives its founders the


right to call it a Zoilogical Garden, is the number
of animals who have their quarters out-of-doors.
There are many large inclosures where animals of
various kinds roam about almost as comfortably as
if they were at liberty in their native land. To be
sure, they cannot take such long walks as they could
at home, but as they are here safe from the attacks
of all enemies, and have all the good food that they
need, it may be that they are just as happy as they
ever were.
The prairie-dog village is quite a curiosity, as it
is the only place where prairie-dogs can be seen at
home, except in their native habitations out West.
No other zoological garden, or collection of ani-
mals, possesses anything of the kind. This village
consists of a good-sized piece of land, inclosed by a
wire fence, where a colony of prairie-dogs have
made their underground houses. They are great
burrowers, and although a wall was built around
their inclosure extending ten feet below the surface
of the ground, some of the little fellows dug down
under the wall and made their appearance outside
of their bounds. So a deeper wall had to be built.
The houses of these dogs are long, and sometimes
roomy, tunnels under the ground, and at the en-
trance of each the earth is generally thrown up in
a mound, with a round hole at the top, just about
big enough to let one dog pass in or out by itself.
In fine weather the dogs (so called because their


FLYING FOXES (LARGE EAST INDIAN BATS).

bark is something like a dog's) take great delight
in sitting a-top of these mounds, or peeping out of
the doors. They are lively little creatures, about
as big as rabbits, and seem perfectly at home.
We are told that in the West the houses of the
prairie-dogs are frequently occupied, not only by
the dogs themselves, but by certain small owls


658


[AUGUST,






A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


which like to live in holes in the ground (if they
can find them ready-made), and by rattlesnakes !
These three animals seem to live peacefully to-
gether in one hole, although it may be that the owl
and the dog take turns in watching the snake. But
as the prairie-dogs here look very fat and happy
without the rattlesnakes and owls (for the society
has not furnished these), it is probable that they
are very well satisfied to live by themselves.
Not very far from the prairie-dog village there
is a wide stream emptying into a pond, and part
of this stream has been fenced off for a colony of
beavers. Beavers are such wise and industrious
creatures, working so hard and with such skill to


ugly creatures can wander about all day and never
feel obliged to kneel down to have a load packed
on their backs. By the way, a camel is never so
ugly as he is when he is very young. One of the
ugliest infants on earth is a baby camel.
There are several large inclosures surrounded by
high fences, and with nice little houses for bad
weather, where different kinds of deer, elks, ante-
lopes, etc., have plenty of room to stroll about and
enjoy themselves. There are also smaller yards for
wolves, foxes, and other animals of the kind that
are used to our weather, and can live out-of-doors;
and there is quite a field for the bisons (or buffaloes,
as they are called out West). There is a herd of


A BABY CAMEL.
A BABY CAMIIL.


dam up the streams in their native forests and
build their houses, that almost every one would be
glad to see them at work, cutting down trees with
their teeth, and hauling little loads of clay and
earth on their broad, flat tails. But I saw only two
beavers out of the water when I was there, and one
seemed to be amusing himself by swimming about
with sticks in his mouth, while the other was taking
a walk on the little beach. A large tree had been
felled so that it lay across the stream, and there
was every opportunity for the beavers to go to work
when they got ready. At any rate, although I did
not see any of them hauling clay, which I very
much desired, I was glad to know how beavers
looked when they were swimming or walking about
in a natural way.
There is an inclosure for camels, where these


half a dozen or more of these, and some of them
are very large and fierce-looking. I watched a big
fellow come up to a tree with his great head down,
his fiery eyes glancing out from under his shaggy
mane, and a general air of determination about
him, as if he had made up his mind that he would
put his horns into that tree and tear it up by the
roots! But he only rubbed himself against it,
although he rubbed so vigorously that, if he had
been rubbing against some frame-houses that I
know of, I think he would have shaken them down.
The truth is that, although the buffalo is one of
the fiercest-looking animals on earth, he is really
of a very mild disposition, and the biggest one
would probably run from a very small boy, if the
boy had a stick and the buffalo a chance to get
away. So you must not judge these animals by


659


a







A VILLAGE OF WILD BEASTS.


their appearance. Indeed, you could not engage
in a poorer business than to go around the world
judging animals by their looks.
The kangaroos have several long yards, with a
little house at one end and plenty of room in front
to skip and play. I never thought the kangaroo
was a funny animal until I saw these fellows. In a
cage they have no chance to show what a comical
way they have of getting over the ground. Of
course I knew that when they are pursued they
bound away with great leaps, but I did not know
how queerly they bounce themselves along when
they are not in 'a hurry.
One big fellow, who was sitting near his house
on his hind-legs and his tail (you know they use
their tails to prop themselves up with), took it into
his head to come down to the front fence where a
group of visitors was standing. So he straightened
himself up, with his head high in the air; held up


his little fore-paws -under his chin, and came down
the yard in a series of funny hops that made every-
body roar out laughing. I never saw an animal
act so comically,-though he did not intend it,-
and I am sure that there is not a church in the
world where all the congregation-even the oldest
bald-headed members and the Sunday-school
teachers-would not burst out laughing if a big
kangaroo came gravely hopping down the middle
aisle.
I have not told you about all the animals in this
place. I have said nothing about the condor-the
largest bird in the world; the great bats, called
flying foxes, because they have fox-like heads and
red hair, and which sometimes measure four feet
from tip to tip of their horrid leathery wings. I
have said nothing about the pair of handsome young
Polar bears, but I have said enough for the present,
and must stop.


y.
I,. ~ -


-.5.


READY FOR A SECOND COURSE.


[AUGusT,


''


-~-~






x877.] ROBIN'S RAIN-SONG. 661




o1 .-. ,



S s ._'r -I -... .






,And Still the misty window par, ,. .











'But when my mother heard
.. ,,She said, "That's Robin's rair.i _- *.1 .- ..
Oh, well he knows when rai. I : ---

Fair was the morning, and I -i-'i
Because she would not let m.- : '
Into the woods for flowers, but !-.:I.r
'My feet from wandering awa.











And I was vexed to hear you :
SSo sweetly of the mist coming stcpa
And watched with brimming e- -- i- --
,Grow cold and dim from cle; ... I. 7

It seemed to me you brought i '11
With that incessant, plaintive c
And still you call the drops to 1''1.










Upon your brown ago the skynd scarler .

How nice to be a bird like yoi.
And let the mraing come attend I .








Nor mind a bit to be wet throw .1..
Nor fear to spoil one's only ,
But since I cannot be a bird,










Sweet Robthe woods, pipe no more rs, ut
Your merrier music is preferred .
Forget at last that sad refraiN

And tell us of the sunshine, dear-
And watched with brimming e- .i *-*,
Grow cold and dim from cle.'" .










I'm wild to me abroad aga ,
And still you call the drops to l i,,







Seeking for blossoms far and near: .

SRobin, pip e no more of rain !
Nor mind a bhit to be wet thre, l .


But since I cannot be a bird,
Sweet Robin, pipe no more r :-

F.orget at last that sad refria-.' -

And tell us of the sunshine, dear-
It'm wild to be abroad again,
Seeking for blossoms far and near:
0 Robin, pipe no more of rain i






662


THE first time Aunt Fanny was in London she
lived in some nice lodgings in a house in Hen-
rietta street, Cavendish square. It is quite neces-
sary to mention Cavendish square in connection
with this Henrietta street, because there are nine
other Henrietta streets in different parts of London.
Opposite the house was a brick wall. On top
of this brick wall was another high wall of ground-
glass. They inclosed the garden of the Duke of
Portland, whose mansion was just around the
corner and opposite the square. The duke was a
great invalid; he could take exercise only in this
garden, and he had put up this ground-glass wall
to keep out curious and intrusive staring from the
people who live on the opposite side of the street.
One day a bright, handsome boy of twelve-the
nephew of Aunt Fanny's landlady-came from his
school to spend some days with his aunt. Except
his handsome face, he was comical-looking enough.
He had on deep yellow stockings, and shoes with
big buckles. His velveteen trousers were fastened
at his knees; he wore a yellow petticoat, and over
this a dark blue coat which came down to his
ankles. This was buttoned only from the chin to
the waist, leaving the skirt to fly open like a lady's
polonaise. A broad red-leather belt with large
brass buckle, and white bands at his neck, com-
pleted this droll costume, which every boy must
wear who enters Christ's Hospital-the strange
name of the school. In the very first number of
ST. NICHOLAS (November, 1873) there is a most
interesting account of this school, which is situated
in the heart of Old London, close to St. Paul's
Cathedral, the General Post-office, and the sad
and grim-looking Newgate Prison.
This account gives you the history of the Blue-
coat school," as Christ's Hospital is called by the
boys, and so Aunt Fanny need only tell you about
her own dear blue-coat boy. Arthur's rosy cheeks,
brown curling hair, wide-open honest blue eyes,
and pleasant manners, soon made her forget all
about his yellow legs and comical petticoats, and
they became the best of friends; for, of course,
she made his acquaintance at once by shaking
hands, and saying:
I am very glad to meet a blue-coat boy. Do
you know that Charles Lamb, Leigh Hunt, and
Coleridge-three great authors-were blue-coat
boys as well as you? "
Oh yes, ma'am; every fellow in Christ's Hos-
pital knows that "


How long have you been a blue-coat boy ?"
Two years, ma'am. I was entered when I was
ten years old."
What happened to you when you first entered?"
Arthur's eyes snapped, and the color deepened
in his cheeks. He pulled down the waist of his
coat, and said, indignantly:
The boys put me in the middle of a circle, and
locked hands. Then they asked me, 'Did your
mother ever wash her face and hands ?' and when I
said, Yes, of course she did!' they danced around
and hollered, 'His mother is a washerwoman!
don't speak to him-she washes !' I doubled up
my fists, and was going to fight them; but they
held me tight, and made dreadful mouths at me,
and buzzed like blue-bottle flies, to 'soothe me,
they said. As I could not help myself, I did stand
quiet after a moment, and then they asked me,
'What does your father do for a living?' and I
said he was a teacher of languages; he could
speak- and before I could get out another
word, they were all bowing down, and shouting,
' His father was a speaker make way for the son
of the Honorable Speaker of the House of Com-
mons!' and oh! I had such hard work not to cry
when I said, 'My father and mother are dead.'
And then some of the boys cried, Shame let him
go!' and I got off. Two or three of them asked
me if I had any sisters, and if they were pretty,
and begged that I would give their love to them
when I wrote, and then we had a jolly game of
leap-frog together."
But what did you do with your long petticoats
when you played leap-frog ?"
Oh, we tucked them up under our belts."
Arthur," said Aunt Fanny, with a smile in her
eyes, but the rest of her face quite serious, "did
you torment any .boys that entered after you ? "
His face flushed high, but he confessed in an
honest, outspoken way, "Why, certainly I did. I
asked all the new boys if their mothers washed
their faces and hands, and when they said, 'Yes,'
I shouted out, 'She's a washerwoman!' and
made the dreadfullest faces I could; and I sent my
love to all their sisters."
Aunt Fanny laughed a little, and thought to her-
self, "Well, boys will be boys; there's no help
for it; but she said, "Arthur, I think you were
very mean; you did not observe the golden rule;"
at which he blushed again for a minute; then he
brightened up, and said: I licked a fellow who


[AUGUST,


THE BLUE-COAT BOY.



THE BLUE-COAT BOY.

BY AUNT FANNY.






THE BLUE-COAT BOY.


called me Miss Arthur, and said I was a beggar's
baby. Was n't that right, ma'am ?"
Well-yes," she answered, if he was as big
as you are; but what made him call you 'Miss' ?"
"Why, he was going to bury a rabbit alive, and
I burst out crying, because when I tried to get the
poor rabbit away from him he flung it against a
stone and killed it."
"Well-I 'm glad you whipped him, then; such
shocking cruelty deserved a sound thrashing."
Arthur and Aunt Fanny liked each other so
much, that they went out together on all her shop-
ping expeditions, and to see the sights of the huge
city. The first time she asked him to walk with
her, they had gone a few steps from the house,
when Aunt Fanny turned around and exclaimed,
in astonishment, "Why, Arthur, what on earth
made you forget your hat ? Run back for it ?"
But I have no hat," he said.
"No hat? What do you mean?"
Arthur laughed. "We blue-coat boys never
wear hats," he said, summer or winter."
As soon as his companion understood this, she
laughed too, and then they went merrily on to
Oxford street.
But the little vagabonds in the streets would
never let Arthur alone. They ran after him, point-
ing and crying, See the bloocut boy Look at
his yaller legs Quack quack quack Where's
your hat, ducky ? Where's your top-knot, ducky ?
Buy a pork-pie, and wear it home on your head "
to which he paid no attention, because it was an old
story. He said that when he was first chaffed,"
as he called it, he flew into a passion, and picked
up stones to throw at his tormentors. But he did
not care now, though Aunt Fanny was very indig-
nant, and wanted to call a policeman, or, as Arthur
entitled him, a "bobby."
They went first to Marshall & Snellgrove's, a
large shop in Oxford street, which looked very much
like our shops in New York, with the exception
that the floors were nicely carpeted. There Aunt
Fanny bought an aqua scutum, which is nothing
more nor less than a water-proof cloak. The clerk
called it by this Latin name, thinking that it
sounded finer. Then they went into a little haber-
dashery shop, where Aunt Fanny said, politely-
I want some spool cotton, No. 40, if you
please."
"Beg pardon, ma'am," said the clerk, "but
what is it you want ? "
Spool cotton, No. 40."
Beg pardon, but I don't think we have it."
"Why, yes you have, any quantity of it, just on
the shelf behind you."
The clerk looked around perplexed, and then,
turning back, said : Oh, it's reels of thread, per-


haps, that you mean. Really, now, it's very odd !
I never heard them called spool cotton' before."
Aunt Fanny laughed, and said that it was only
one more of the little differences between English
and American ways of speaking the same language.
She bought the reels of thread, and out they went
into the beautiful warm sunshine; and London
sunshine does seem the most beautiful ever made,
except October days in our country,-

"Where, through a sapphire sea, the sun
Sails like a golden galleon!"

She was admiring the lovely weather, when
Arthur said: Oh yes; but just wait till Novem-
ber-we have wonderfully nasty days then."
"Arthur, what do you mean by a 'nasty' day?"
"A nasty day-why, don't you know? It rains,
and the clouds and fog make the day so dark that
we have to light candles to study by."
We should call that a stormy or foggy day; we
never say 'a 'nasty day; it is too bad a quality to
give to rain water. But we offend you as often, or
oftener perhaps, by a misuse of words. I called a
pretty baby in the park the other day, a cunning
little thing,' and the nurse said, very angrily,
'She never did a cunning thing in her life,
ma'am-she 's as good as gold.' So I looked into
an English dictionary, and found that the word
'cunning' meant deceitful, artful, fraudulent,
crafty, and sly.' Just see how I had insulted that
innocent little lamb and quite unintentionally;
for I meant by using the word 'cunning' to imply
that she was pretty, and bright, and winning, and
lovely, and good."
How very odd said Arthur.
By this time they were walking in the broad,
beautiful Regent street, and soon they came to a
large, handsome shop, where American cream
soda-water was sold. Aunt Fanny went in, fol-
lowed by Arthur. I am going to give you a glass
of soda-water, such as we have in New York," she
said. What sirup would you like with it ?"
Arthur carefully studied all the labels above the
silver faucets, and then chose raspberry sirup, and
Aunt Fanny chose the same. The clean, pretty
English boy foamed the soda up high, while Arthur
watched with curious eyes. When the boy handed
him the glass, Arthur took a moderate sip, and
immediately exclaimed, "Oh, my! how awfully
good !" Shutting up his eyes, he drank his cream-
soda, drawing a quick breath or two, with a face
expressing such delight, that Aunt Fanny, in watch-
ing him and laughing, herself forgot to drink !
What do you think of it ? she asked.
I never had anything half so nice in all my
life "
Well, I don't care much for cream-soda myself,


663






THE BLUE-COAT BOY


so I will just take a sip of mine, and perhaps you
will oblige me by drinking the rest."
Oh, now, that would be awfully mean in me,"
he said, looking with longing eyes at her glass.
Not at all;" and handing it to him, Aunt
Fanny soon saw the bottom of it up in the air, for
Arthur did not like to lose a drop.
When they went out of the shop, Arthur turned
to Aunt Fanny with an earnest face, and said: I
want to tell you something. When I grow up and
get married, I intend to take my wife to the Amer-
ican soda-water shop, and give her a glass of rasp-
berry cream soda-water," and then those little
yellow legs of his walked off with an air of manly
dignity, for he felt that he could not possibly bestow
upon his future wife a greater gratification.
Such pleasant times as they two had !
The last day these two friends spent together
seemed especially delightful. Aunt Fanny's trunks
were all packed, ready to go on the morrow to
Brighton, a great stone-built city on the edge of the
Atlantic ocean; and so this last day was to blaze all
over, so to speak, with glory and enjoyment.
Early after breakfast they left the house for the
British Museum, where you can see everything you
have, or have n't, heard of, from a mummy 4,000
years old to a book published only yesterday. As
they were walking along Oxford street, talking
merrily, a rough-looking boy, just in front of them,
stopped for an instant before a fruit shop, where
apples, oranges, and lemons, were set in tempting
array outside of the door. Giving a quick, furtive
look within the shop, the boy took an apple and
went on, whistling.
"Oh did you see that?" asked Arthur, in a
horrified tone, he stole an apple "
How dreadful! I 'm afraid he has never prayed
'Lead us not into temptation,' said Aunt Fanny.
" I should think that every mouthful he ate would
choke him."
Aunt Fanny," whispered Arthur, his eyes danc-
ing, his hands clasped, "just you wait a moment;
I 'm going to scare him awfully and before she
could speak, those yellow legs made a rush up to
the bad boy, and, with a sudden slap on his back,
Arthur yelled at the top of his voice, Boo "
That stolen apple went into the middle of the
street like a flash of lightning, while the boy, with
a bounce in the air, and a louder yell, shot off at a
regular English steeple-chase speed. He stopped at
nothing, leaping over dogs, boxes and babies, with
Arthur after him like an express train; the blue
coat flying out behind, like the smoke from the
funnel, the yellow legs twinkling and winking like
the fiery sparks, while Aunt Fanny, vainly trying
to keep up with them, laughed and laughed till her
sides and temples ached again.


With a wild whoop from Arthur, both boys dis-
appeared around the next corner, and when Aunt
Fanny got so far, she saw Arthur coming back
breathless, flushed, and laughing, but the other
boy was out of sight.
"He thought the bobby was after him, sure!"
said Arthur, as soon as he could catch his breath.
" He never looked around, but dived down an
area, and there I left him. That apple wont choke
him now, will it ?"
I think not. The omnibuses must have turned
it into apple-sauce by this time."
After this adventure, Arthur and Aunt Fanny
had a serious talk about the wickedness of stealing
even a pin, and soon after they arrived at the great
museum, where the boy amused himself by making
faces at the mummies, the enormous stone images,
and the stuffed wild beasts, while Aunt Fanny
lingered over the illuminated prayer-books which
had been used by poor Mary Queen of Scots,
Queen Elizabeth, and other queens and kings, and
read many letters,--sme of them very sad ones,
written by the hands of great personages long
since turned to dust.
All these things were very delightful to see, but
also very fatiguing; and so, when they left the
museum, Aunt Fanny called a Hansom cab, which
one can do at almost any moment in the streets of
London. These cabs, when empty, go slowly along
the streets, waiting for customers to hail them.
The driver sits on a little seat high up behind, so
that the passenger inside has nothing before him
to intercept his view.
Arthur was delighted with the grandeur of a ride,
though the cab was very shabby, and the poor old
fiddle-headed horse a sight to see. His shaky, bony
legs paddled out to right and left in a ridiculous
manner, like oars, and his tail was nothing but a
wisp. But Arthur declared that he was a regular
"two-forty," by which he meant that he could run
a mile in two minutes and forty seconds; and,
jumping up, he opened the little trap in the roof
of the Hansom, and called out to the driver:
Cabby, just whip up and run a race with the
first horse and Hansom that comes along."
No, indeed !" cried Aunt Fanny. Have some
pity, Arthur, on the poor thing. We are going to
Kensington, and it's a long drive."
So the old horse paddled along, and was dismissed
at Kensington, with an extra sixpence to the driver.
After a nice lunch at a restaurant, they went
through the South-Kensington Museum,-whose
wonders it would take many pages to tell of,-
and then another Hansom brought them back to
Regent street, where it was dismissed, instead of
taking them home, because Arthur had given
Aunt Fanny a very strong hint that a glass of


[AUGUST,






THE BLUE-COAT BOY.


cream soda-water would be the crowning delight
to this awfully jolly day."
The fixed air must have gone down into his heels,
for, instead of walking quietly by Aunt Fanny's
side, Arthur took flying leaps over the curb-stones
when they came to a crossing, waiting for her to


SBlues" playing leap-frog, with petticoats tucked
up. All this he.told dancing around her and talk-
ing in the most animated manner.
When they arrived near the house, Arthur ran
forward to ring the bell, and at the same time
he intended, with a light spring, to seat himself


THE BLUE-COAT BOY SCARES THE THIEF.


walk over, with his eyes shining like diamonds.
And how fast his tongue ran! He told Aunt
Fanny how, on every Easter Monday, the blue-coat
boys walked in procession to the Royal Exchange;
and on Easter Tuesday paid a visit to the Lord
Mayor; and how the street boys looked through'
the iron railings of the fence in Newgate street,
where Christ's Hospital is situated, and watched the


upon the iron railing of the low stoop. But he had
sprung too high and too far back, and he lost his
balance. With a desperate but unavailing clutch
at the railing, he fell back, and over, into the arms
of the plump, red-faced cook, who was standing
just below, and who, with a howl of astonishment,
immediately sat down on the stone flags very
much more quickly than she liked, while Arthur,


665






HIS OWN MASTER.


with his head twisted up in his petticoats, was saw-
ing the air with his yellow legs, like a duck trying
to swim upside down.
You owdacious boy!" screamed the cook,
"do you mane to murther me ?"
Aunt Fanny had screamed, too, when she saw
Arthur fall, but now she was fast getting another
terrible pain in her side from laughing at this
topsy-turvy rigadoon which Arthur was dancing.
At last, when the cook, with a good shaking, had
placed him on his feet, and he with many chuckles
had helped Aunt Fanny to pull her up, and had
begged her pardon, and all three had sobered down


a little, they began to feel thankful that the merry,
frolicsome boy had escaped what might have been
a very serious accident.
You can't have a stout cook always waiting to
catch you, Arthur," said Aunt Fanny; "so don't
try so many monkey tricks in future, I beg of you."
The next day Arthur helped his "American
aunt," as he called her, into the cab which was to
take her to the depot, kissing her good-by with an
energy which knocked her bonnet over her ear.
She kissed her hand to him as the cab turned the
corner, and that was the last she saw of her dear,
merry, winsome blue-coat boy.


HIS OWN MASTER.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XXXI.
THE DISADVANTAGE OF BEING A WITNESS.
THE colonel talked with Jacob in a bland and
flattering way, and proposed, among other things,
to pay his fare to Cincinnati, by railroad, from the
town they were approaching.
Jacob listened, but did not for a moment give
over his resolution to save Boone's team for him,
if he could. The cautious colonel, however, gave
him no chance for that. He kept the boy con-
stantly in sight at the hotel where they stopped,
the team having been put into the hands of the
ostler; and finally started with him to take the
train, accompanied by a friend he had sent for,
named Hampton, and a waiter with the baggage.
He has fooled me somehow," thought Jacob,
wondering what had become of the team.
He now remembered that Corkright's friend had
twice been to see him at the hotel, and that, the
second time, money had passed between them.
He has sold the team for the colonel," was the
conclusion he came to; and it now seemed to him
that he could do no better than to go on by the
train to Cincinnati. It was only three or four
hours' ride; and, after all his weariness and anxiety,
it was a relief to think his journey's end so near.
But just as they were stepping on board the cars,
two men walked rapidly up to the platform, the
foremost of whom exclaimed, Here he is !-this is
the man and made a rush at Corkright.


He reminded Jacob strongly of somebody he had
seen; but it was a moment before he recognized,
beneath the excited gestures and determined air,
the jolly young farmer of the night before.
At the same time, the second man, coming up,
courteously informed the Kentuckian that he had a
warrant for his arrest.
On what charge ?" said the colonel.
Taking a wagon and pair of horses that did n't
belong to you," replied the officer.
Jacob trembled with joy.
This fellow sold me his horses," said the colonel,
"and I can prove it."
"You '11 have a chance to do that before the
magistrate," said the officer. Sorry to interrupt
your journey." Then, turning to Jacob, Is n't
this the boy ? "
Yes, he's in league with him cried Boone,
very much excited. He must come too."
Jacob was astonished at Boone's manner toward
him. But it was no time to make explanations.
The office of the magistrate was near by, and
soon the constable and his prisoner, Boone and
Jacob, Hampton and a crowd of spectators, entered
and filled it nearly full.
The prisoner was arraigned on the charge of the
larceny of a pair of horses and a wagon, to which
he replied that he had bought the property of
Boone the night before, and exhibited a bill of sale
to that effect.
Did you give him this ?" asked the judge.


666


[AUGUST,






HIS OWN MASTER.


Boone stared at the paper in blank dismay.
"Never! It is not my handwriting. I never
saw it before."
It is in my handwriting," said the colonel,-
all but the signature ; that is his."
Boone scratched his head with a lugubriously
puzzled look.
I have a faint recollection of signing some
paper. But I have n't the least idea what. I
could n't have been myself, if this is it; for the
team is n't mine, and I could n't have sold it."
This places the matter in a somewhat different
light," observed the judge. "The charge of larceny
can hardly be sustained without more evidence,
and I advise you to settle with the prisoner."
"All I ask is that he '11 restore the property-my
father's property," said Boone. I make no charge
against him for winning my money; but the team
I must have."
"I regret to say that you speak too late," said
the colonel. It has passed out of my hands."
Then I '11 bring a charge of swindling," cried
Boone. That man and this boy are league
together. They go about the country, and the
little one helps the big one. The little one asked
me to let him ride last evening, and found out I
had money. Then he met the big one at the
tavern, and went off with him and my team in the
middle of the night."
Jacob listened to this accusation in the greatest
amazement.
May I say a word ? cried he, aware that all
eyes were on him, that he was very pale, and that
everybody must regard him as guilty.
"Certainly," said the judge. "But it must be
under oath. Hold up your right hand. You do
solemnly swear that the evidence you are about to
give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth."
I do," said Jacob, in a firm voice, but with pale
lips and a white face.
What's your name ?" said the magistrate.
"Jacob Fortune."
How old are you ?"
I was fifteen in March."
By the time he had answered a few such ques-
tions as these, the boy had pretty fully regained
his self-possession.
Do you know this man? "
"I have seen him-once or twice too often,"
Jacob added, with a faint and pallid smile.
He then, in answer to questions, told the story
of his first meeting with Corkright on the steam-
boat, and of his adventure with him the night
before.
He offered me money," he said, if I would
hold my tongue about the horses. But I told him


they belonged to Boone's father. And I only waited
a chance to say so, if he went to sell them."
This is important evidence," said the judge.
"It appears that the prisoner must have known
that he had no good title to the team when he
sold it."
The colonel now asked to have the case post-
poned until he could bring witnesses and procure
counsel.
When will you be ready ? asked the judge.
To-morrow," replied the colonel.
Say to-morrow morning at ten o'clock," said
the judge, and proceeded to put the prisoner under
bonds to appear then.
My bail is ready, your honor," said Cork-
right, his friend Hampton offering to stand as his
surety.
Papers were drawn up and signed, and the
prisoner was released. The judge then turned to
Jacob with: Can you find bail, my boy ? "
What do you mean ? said Jacob. I am not
charged with any crime, am I ? "
No; but you are suspected of being this man's
accomplice. What is to prevent your running off,
if the court lets you go? You may have told a
correct story; but it is necessary that such singular
evidence should be sifted. Can you get anybody
to be surety for you-that is, give bonds to the
amount of two hundred dollars that you shall ap-
pear when the case comes up again to-morrow ? "
The boy's breath was taken away for a moment.
Then he gasped out:
S"If I-can't-find anybody?"
"Then the court must provide for your safe-
keeping. According to your own account, you are
a stranger here. You 've no money, no friends.
So I don't see that you can do better than take
nice, comfortable lodgings at the public expense."
You mean-I am to-go to jail stammered
Jacob, astounded.
"It is no such dreadful thing in your case.
Where else would you go while you have to wait ?"
I don't know," replied the boy, swallowing a
great lump in his throat. But it seems to me a
strange country, where rogues are let go free, while
honest folks who expose them are sent to jail."
The judge and some of the remaining spectators
smiled. Others-and among them Boone, eager
to find and recover his father's property-were
following the released prisoner out into the street.
"Well, it does work rather curiously some-
times," remarked the judge, filling out a paper
which he presently handed to the officer. But
you wont find it so bad as you imagine. Mr.
Constable, you will please take charge of the
witness."
And Jacob was marched off to jail.


667






HIS OWN MASTER.


CHAPTER XXXII.
OUR HERO IN JAIL.
IT was with a dreadful sinking of the heart that
the boy saw the jailer with his keys come to receive
him from the hands of the officer, and then go to
opening the great locks and iron doors, which soon
closed and clanked behind him. He had not
thought that ever he could come to this.
He had asked for his bag, and the officer had
promised to have it brought. Meanwhile, the
keeper-a plain, genial, easy sort of man, who did
not by any means come up to Jacob's ideas of a
cruel jailer-showed him the room and bed
where he was to sleep. l'
The room was in fact a cell, communi- ii ii
rating with the main hall of the prison
through a grated door. I
"Am I to be locked up in there? the' ii,'
boy asked, starting back.
I trust not," said the jailer. "You are .'
not a very desperate character, I fancy. ii,
You can go into the hall, and I'll see that !
you've all the privileges ever allowed to 'Y
anybody. We 've no -very bad cases now- ,J.i,
none you need be afraid of."
Jacob had noticed a man lying on a i'll
bench in the hall, reading a newspaper,
and two others playing checkers, while one
or two more looked on. But the dejected
lad did not care to have anything to do
with society met in such a place. So, after
the jailer left him, he sat down on his
narrow bed, and, looking dolefully at the
bare walls and floor, indulged in dismal
thoughts.
There's no honesty and no justice in
this world," he said to himself. I've tried
my best to do right, and get along as well
as I honestly could-and here I am! The
rogues are free, and I am locked up in jail.
What would Friend Matthew and his wife
and good little Ruth say, if they knew ?-and Florie
and her mother? "
Thinking of these excellent people, whom he
could not hope ever to see again, Jacob gave way
to grief, and buried his face in his hands.
While he was thus plunged in bitter despondency,
a voice in the open door of his cell spoke to him.
"Jacob, my boy, how are you ? "
It was a strangely familiar voice; but if one had
spoken to him from the grave, he could not have
been more astonished. It did indeed speak to him
from the grave of friendship. He looked up.
"Don't you know me, Jacob ? "
"Yes, I know you," said the boy, trembling
with violent emotion. "but "


"Ha, ha! You take me for a ghost, eh ?"
"No, not that said Jacob, in a choked voice.
And yet the figure before him seemed more
ghostlike than real, a good deal. The vivacious
countenance, the coat buttoned jauntily at the
waist, the dainty mustache and ringlets-all were
the same as he remembered them so well, and yet
not the same. He did not know that the change
was chiefly in himself. From the crowded experi-
ences of the past two weeks, he had gained an
insight into men and things which revealed to
him what he had not dreamed of before. He
saw through that shallow, smiling face; and the


JACOB LED TO JAIL.

being who had stood to him for all that was
charming and graceful and generous in man, now
appeared false and affected, and, somehow, sadly
faded.
But even then he did not mean to be unjust to
Mr. Pinkey.
You are kind to come and see me," he said.
" How did you know I was here ? "
"Why, I saw you; didn't you notice me? I
was reading a newspaper when you came in."
Then you have n't-just come-to visit me ?"
Jacob stammered, as the truth began to dawn
upon him.
Let it pass that I have," cried Pinkey, gayly,
coming into the cell and seating himself beside


AUGUST,







HIS OWN MASTER. b09


Jacob. To go about visiting the fatherless and
widowed, the sick and imprisoned, is just my style,
you know. But the truth is, beloved,-I 'd disguise
it or have it different if I could, but I can't,-the
sad truth is, I've been here longer than you have.
I really feel like an old inhabitant. My cell is the
next but one to yours."
You in jail! exclaimed Jacob, his surprise
changing to pity at finding the brilliant professor,
his once admired friend, in such a place. How
did it come about ?"
"All on your account, all on your account,
Jacob, my boy said Alphonse, shaking his ring-
lets with affected seriousness.
"On my account! How so? What is the
charge against you ? "
Selling goods at auction without a license;
that's all. Officers have been after me ever since.
They came up with me three days ago, and, as I
could n't pay my fine or find bail, the inhuman
creatures of a tyrannical law clapped me into jail."
There was a time when Jacob would have be-
lieved every word of this story, coming so glibly
from the lips of the accomplished deceiver. He
was not so credulous now.
That's what made me escape from the steamer.
I found there was an officer aboard. He came on
at the last landing-place, and was only waiting till
we should get to the next, when he was going to
arrest me. The upsetting of the boat gave me a
chance, you see, and I What do you look at
me that way for, my boy ? "
He was looking steadfastly, with an expression of
doubt and trouble, more sorrowful than angry.
Oh, Mr. Pinkey he said-and that was all.
Alphonse quailed, in spite of himself, before that
sad, searching glance.
"What's the matter? You are not the boy
you were."
No, I am not," said Jacob.
Now don't please don't! cried Mr. Pinkey.
"It's too depressing to have you look at me so,
while I'm doing- my best to raise your spirits and
keep up my own. It's perfectly disheartening "
"You can't raise my spirits in that way; it's
disheartening to me," said Jacob.
Why, how so, my boy? I would n't for the
world What do you mean ? "
If you please, Mr. Pinkey, don't try to deceive
me any more "
Deceive you, Jacob I" protested Alphonse,
with an air of insulted virtue.
You have done it enough-too much already.
You nearly broke my heart, leaving me to think
you were drowned,-and that partly by my fault,
too Oh, Mr. Pinkey "-and the boy's lips quiv-
ered at the recollection of that wrong and that grief,


Alphonse bent down his head, and his features
worked in an unusual manner for a moment.
Their expression was changed when he looked up.
Well, Jacob, I wont lie to you any more."
No, don't! said Jacob. "It's no use. You
can't make anything more out of me, and I don't
expect anything of you. I don't ask anything-
except that you will tell me the truth now. You
can afford to do that, I think."

CHAPTER XXXIII.
PINKEY MAKES A CONFESSION.
"WELL, by Jove, Jacob," said Pinkey, resuming
his air of cheerfulness, "that's an idea But you
speak of something that touches my honor when
you hint at my making something out of you."
Your honor !" repeated Jacob, with some
scorn. Do you mean to say that you did n't
deliberately get me to sell off my aunt's goods so
as to raise money for yourself? "
I own," replied Pinkey, "that I was hard up;
and it did strike me as a neat way of setting my
fortunes afloat again."
And all that story about the money you carried
in your belt -- "
Pure invention, I confess, Jacob, my boy I
had no belt and-what was worse-no money.
Yours went into my pocket-book for current ex-
penses. I hoped it would bring me to a streak of
good luck, and I meant-honestly meant-to pay
you back every cent, with a large bonus, at my
earliest convenience."
I remember your ideas of paying debts at your
convenience," said Jacob. I think, for my part,
it would be better to care a little more for your
obligations. How could you lie to me so, and get
my money, and lose it, and then forsake me in the
mean and cruel way you did ? "
Reproach me-blame me-pitch into me with-
out pity or remorse-I deserve it! replied Al-
phonse. But, my dearest boy, you must believe
one thing-I did n't anticipate losing your money;
that was my confounded luck. Neither had I the
slightest idea of forsaking you ; that was my neces-
sity."
I don't see the necessity," said Jacob, with a
stern and gloomy countenance.
Then let me explain. I had lost every cent of
your money and my own-to Corkright, you under-
stand. Then I sold him my violin and fine shirts,
and lost again. Think of the dreadful situation !
How could I say to you,-arrived at Cincinnati, for
instance; you, full of hope and anticipation, going
to meet your uncle ; a shilling wanted, perhaps, to
invest in a clean dickey for that occasion; you ask
me for it;-I repeat, how could I stand up and






HIS OWN MASTER.


face you, and say, Jacob, my boy, I 'm busted !'
Why, you see, for any gentleman of a fine sense
of honor it would have been just awful "
And Pinkey really seemed to think that he had
made a sufficient excuse for himself.
Did you imagine," said Jacob, that your de-
sertion of me would help the matter ? "
Well, no, not for you; but it certainly prom-
ised to make the thing a trifle easier for me. With
all due benevolence for our fellow-creatures,"
Pinkey added, with the air of a moral philosopher,
"we are bound to look out for number one."
"Oh, Mr. Pinkey if you had only come to me
and told me your trouble, I could have forgiven
you! But to leave me to suffer as I did! Oh,
that night when I thought you were drowned If
you-but you have no heart," said Jacob, passion-
ately, and you don't know anything about it, and
you never will "
Have n't I a heart, indeed cried Pinkey, a
few drops of bitterness wrung from him by these
words of Jacob. "I'll tell you now another thing
that drove me to despair. Those lovely sisters-
you remember them ?-the charming Dory and
Doshy in green and pink; though which wore the
green and which the pink I can't for my life re-
member now. But no matter. I relied upon them
-one of them, I did n't care which-to repair my
ruined fortunes. And will you believe it ?-can
you look at a gentleman of my cut, and say it is
possible that both those beautiful but misguided
creatures, that day in the woods, declined the offer
of my hand-in short, jilted me? That reduced
me to despair, you know. After parting with my
fiddle and fine shirts, what was there for me on
board the steamer-what had I left to live for?
An empty valise, empty pockets, you to satisfy,
and our fares still unpaid! Then, when such a
chance occurred for me to slip out, or rather swim
out, do you wonder that I quickly made up my
mind to subtract one from the total number of
passengers on board that boat ? "
"I do wonder exclaimed Jacob. "A swim-
mer like you, to make off so, and leave the women
and girls to drown, for aught you cared "
Alphonse winced, but shook his curls, shrugged
his shoulders, and replied:
To explain that, I must confess another thing.
I am a man of a good deal of moral courage,-or
immoral courage, perhaps you would prefer to call
it,-what is technically termed brass. But when it
comes to matters of life and death, I am-I blush
to own it-a coward. So when the boat upset, I
obeyed a natural instinct, and made a lunge for
the tree-tops. I had got into them, when-I am
ashamed to say it-I saw you help one of the
twins to the boat, and then rescue that pretty little


Fairlake girl. Somebody else was rescuing twin
number two. I saw I had missed a chance to dis-
tinguish myself, and perhaps win one of the lovely
ones, after all, by an act of heroism. The danger
of such a thing, even to a good swimmer, you
know, is immense."
"Yes, I know," said Jacob, who remembered
well his own peril. But how could you think of
that the first thing ?"
"That's it; how could I? But I did. Then
how could I come down from my perch and show
myself? You might have seen me there in the
fallen tree, at one time, if you had n't been other-
wise engaged; and I might have been seen again
when I went through a gully up the bank, if it
had n't been for the storm and the turmoil in the
water. The truth is, I had no idea anybody would
take my loss very hard. I hoped the hearts of the
twins would be wrung, but I was n't sure. As for
you," Alphonse continued, more seriously, I was
really solicitous that you should continue to think
well of me. You loved me, and believed in me,
more than anybody ever did before. I supposed
you would prefer to think me even drowned, to
knowing just the truth about me."
Oh, Mr. Pinkey Jacob burst forth again,
this time with an irrepressible sob.
But when I found how hard you took it, I must
own," said Alphonse, "I was mightily cut up!
Did you know I slept in the same bed with you
that night at the Quaker's, and heard from the
woman a most touching account of your distress at
the loss of me ? It was sad; but just think of the
condition I was in. Cast on an inhospitable shore,
so to speak,-only a few dimes in my pocket,-I
tell you, it was rather rough on Professor Alphonse
P. Then, to crown all, I got lodgings here."
How did you ? Tell me true "
"Well, trying to pick up an honest living, I at
last resolved to go back to my old business of
portrait painting. Strictly speaking, that was
nothing more than throwing up and coloring
photographs in a highly pleasing and life-like
manner. Having no specimens to show, I found
it up-hill work. To get help, I called on Mr.
Bottleby, a photographer here in town. He was
at work upstairs, and I sat down at his desk to wait
for him. I was amusing myself with a pen, when
in steps a blundering, stupid boy, and says, Mr.
Bottleby, I've called to pay Mr. Loring's bill,' and
lays twelve dollars and forty-five cents on the desk.
Now, twelve dollars and forty-five cents was pre-
cisely the sum I wanted-till I could get more.
Can you wonder at my wish to borrow it ? Very
well,' I said; 'I am not Mr. Bottleby, but he will
be in presently; leave the money, and I will attend
to it.' He left the money accordingly; and I may


670


[AUGUST,






HIS OWN MASTER.


add that I attended to it accordingly. Not pre-
cisely in a way that pleased Mr. Bottleby. Hence
the trouble I am in. For, will you believe it,
Bottleby had me arrested, and no explanations on
my part could convince him that I took the money
as a temporary loan, to be repaid at my earliest
convenience ? There 's a frightful prejudice in the
community against a man's borrowing the most
insignificant sums in that way. Think of a gentle-
man of my manners and accomplishments being
jugged for twelve dollars and forty-five cents !"

CHAPTER XXXIV.
SOMETHING SUDDEN FOR JACOB.
THE dinner hour for the inmates of the jail had
now arrived, and Alphonse proposed that he and
Jacob should mess together.
The boy consented, and, over their coarse but
wholesome dinner of boiled corned beef and veg-
etables, related, at Pinkey's request, his own ad-
ventures since they parted.
Alphonse had already learned from the jailer, as
he was going out after leaving Jacob in his cell,
that the boy had been committed for no offense,
but simply as a witness in some case. More he had
not learned, and he was now surprised to hear how
near he had come to seeing Corkright in jail.
He was mightily indignant when told how easily
the colonel had got off by giving bail.
Think of citizens of the place coming forward
to be surety for a man like him, while I, with all
my arts of pleasing and powers of persuasion, was
committed like the basest felon There 's one
man I want to see, and that is Loring. Bottleby
I could do nothing with; he was hard as a rock-
inhuman But Loring, I judge by what I hear of
him, might be softened."
Pinkey had already opened his heart a good deal
to Jacob, and during the remainder of the time
they passed together he made such frank confes-
sions of his various youthful adventures, that the
boy got to know him more intimately, and to judge
him better, than he ever could have done under
different circumstances. Somehow, instead of treat-
ing Jacob as an inferior, Alphonse was beginning
to respect him as an equal, and to show more and
more anxiety to secure his good opinion.
But, for heaven's sake," remonstrated the pro-
fessor, after they had been talking together for a
long while the next day, don't look at me in that
way any more What are you thinking of when
you do that ?"
I was thinking just now," replied Jacob, "that
it's such a pity-such a pity "
What's a pity? Don't mystify me; don't
work on the feelings of a sensitive man like me "


"A pity, Mr. Pinkey," Jacob continued earn-
estly, "that a man of your talents could n't learn
to make a better use of them. Suppose you had
settled down to some serious business, instead of
roving from place to place,-given half the time
and ingenuity to any honest pursuit which it takes
to live from hand to mouth as you do,-what a
man you might be what a fortune and position
you might make for yourself "
Strong feeling concentrated Jacob's thoughts and
gave him words, so that his eloquence would have
astonished himself if he had thought about it.
Jacob, my boy," said Alphonse, "every word
you say is a nugget of gold Nobody in the world
works so hard for such poor pay, so little real satis-
faction in the long run, as a man of my habits. I
don't know whether I can change them now-it
may be too late. I mean to try. But-talk about
my talents Why, Jacob, my boy, for solid suc-
cess in life, I'd give more for your slow, sure-footed
common sense and sincerity of purpose than for all
my showy accomplishments. I'm speaking hon-
estly now, if never before."
Jacob had a good rest in jail, and his talks with
Alphonse made him glad, after all, that he had had
this taste of prison-life.
'At the time appointed for Corkright's examina-
tion, the boy was taken to the court; but the case
was again postponed, and he returned to jail.
That evening, however, the keeper came to say
to him that Corkright had made terms with Boone's
family; and that, having recovered the horses and
wagon, Boone had withdrawn his complaint, and
the case had been dismissed, and Jacob was free.
Much as he would have liked to give his testi-
mony against the colonel and see him punished,
the boy was rejoiced at the news of his own libera-
tion. But the thought of quitting his really com-
fortable quarters and recommencing his struggle
with the world sobered him not a little.
You can remain here overnight, if you like,"
the jailer said to him, and then take a fresh start
after breakfast,"-a proposal which Jacob gladly
accepted.
I would n't have believed the time could ever
come," he said with a smile, "when I would will-
ingly stop in jail, even for one night "
There are worse places than this, Jacob, my
boy," said Alphonse. In fact, I'm horribly afraid
there 's a much worse one preparing for me."
For he well knew that, unless some way of escape
were opened, the penalty for his offense against the
law would be a term in the penitentiary.
Jacob did not like to think of such a fate for his
friend. So he promised to see Mr. Loring next
day, and try to induce him to visit the prisoner.
In the morning, when he came to part with the







672 IS ON MSTER [AUUST


boy he had so cruelly injured, the airy and shallow-
hearted Alphonse showed some real feeling.
"I've done you an uncommonly ill turn," he
said, while you've treated me with perfect mag-
nanimity. I owe you a debt of gratitude which I
can never hope to wipe out-to say nothing of that
other debt, which, depend upon it, Jacob, my boy,
I mean to repay at my earliest convenience."
Jacob smiled. Alphonse actually blushed, and


Jacob drew back. Thank you, Mr. Pinkey,"
he said, "but I can't take any of /tat money."
And it was in vain that Alphonse endeavored to
urge it upon him.
Queer boy, you are-a mighty queer boy!"
said Pinkey, who could not understand how any-
body, under any circumstances, could refuse such
an offer.
Jacob next parted with the jailer, who told him


THE JUDGE SURPRISES JACOB.


added: "Oh, you'll hear from that when you
little expect it! "
That's so," said Jacob, if I hear at all "
Alphonse winced, but shook his ringlets, and
continued:
I can't let you go out of this place without any
money. You shall share what little I have."
He took a pinch of fractional currency from his
vest pocket, and began to unfold it. Poor Jacob
regarded it wistfully. A few quarters and tens
would help him so far!-perhaps pay his fare to
Cincinnati.
How did you get so much ?" he asked.
Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets
of Askelon," whispered Alphonse : it 's the last
of that fatal twelve dollars and forty-five cents."


that he was wanted, for some slight legal formality,
at the office of the judge. Then once more the
heavy doors clanked behind him. He was free.
But what was he to do? Without friends or
means, and with a toilsome journey before him, he
had good cause to feel but a troubled and anxious
joy at his release.
He was far from downhearted, however. He
went out into the world again with fresh knowledge
and enlarged views of life. He felt now that he
could bear up bravely under every trial, and never
again be tempted to cry out bitterly that there was
no justice on earth. There may be triumph for the
wicked-or what is supposed to be triumph; but
justice lies deeper than that. The boy was begin-
ning to see this truth.


672


HIS OWN MASTER.


[AUGUST,






JOHN'S FIRST PARTY.


Not finding the judge at his office, Jacob next
went to hunt up Mr. Loring, who proved to be a
cautious, deliberative sort of man, slow to make up
his mind, and slower still to promise, what he would
do. Jacob pleaded earnestly the cause of his friend,
but went away at last without knowing whether his
appeal had made any impression, and still uncer-
tain as to Pinkey's fate.
The justice was again absent from his office when
Jacob returned to it, and he had to wait.
"Gone to dinner, has he? I'd like to go to
dinner too, if I had any to go to "
The day was passing, and it was with ever-
increasing uneasiness that he saw himself subject
to these delays. At last he said to himself:
I've done my part; I 've come here twice to
see the judge, and wasted precious time; now I
am going i "-going he scarcely knew where.
He had extorted from Alphonse a confession that
the picture of his uncle which had been impressed
upon his mind resembled one of that artist's highly
colored photographic portraits. But Pinkey had
assured him that there was a plain, prosaic basis of
fact beneath the glowing tints he had laid on ; and,
not knowing what else to do, or where to go, Jacob
had resolved to continue his tramp to Cincinnati.
Grim necessity stared him in the face. He would
be obliged to find work, in order to earn a little
money, the first thing. But he had a vague notion
that, if he started at once on his journey, every-
thing he actually required would somewhere, in
some way, be provided for him.
I don't believe I shall starve thought he;
and he smiled resolutely spite of his forebodings.


But just as he was going out of the office he met
the judge coming in.
The magistrate received him kindly, and took
some money from a drawer.
I sent for you to give you the witness's fees,"
he said, and pushed the money across the table.
Jacob looked at it and at him, astonished, in-
credulous, overjoyed.
This is mine ?" he said, with sparkling eyes.
Certainly. A person can't be called as a wit.
ness for nothing, and you have appeared twice.
The law allows nothing for your detention in jail,
and that seems hard; but I persuaded Corkright,
who finally paid the costs of court, to add some-
thing to your fees. He did it with a bad grace, for
it was your evidence that made the case a serious
one for him, and forced him to come to terms."
Jacob could still hardly believe his eyes.
Is here enough to pay my fare to Cincinnati ?"
Yes, and a trifle to spare."
"I don't know that I thank Corkright very
much ; but I thank you said Jacob, earnestly.
"Oh, it's all right," laughed the judge. "A
pleasant journey to you!"
Still wondering at his good fortune, which hardly
seemed real to him yet, the boy took up his bag
and walked away.
The "trifle to spare" went for a lunch at the
nearest grocery. Then, grateful, happy, triumph-
ant, Jacob went over to the railroad station and
bought his ticket.
Corkright pays my fare, after all! he said to
himself, as he stepped aboard the train.
That evening he was in Cincinnati.


(To be continued.)







JOHN'S FIRST PARTY.

BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.


IT turned out that John did not go after all to
Cynthia Rudd's party, having broken through the
ice on the river when he was skating that day, and,
as the boy who pulled him out said, come within
an inch of his life." But he took care not to tumble
into anything that should keep him from the next
party, which was given with due formality by
Melinda Mayhew.
John had been many a time to the house of
Deacon Mayhew, and never with any hesitation,
even if he knew that both the deacon's daughters
VOL. IV.-44.


-Melinda and Sophronia-were at home. The
only fear he had felt was of the deacon's big dog,
who always surlily watched him as he came up the
tan-bark walk, and made a rush at him if he
showed the least sign of wavering. But upon the
night of the party his courage vanished, and he
thought he would rather face all the dogs in town
than knock at the front door.
The parlor was lighted up, and as John stood on
the broad flagging before the front door, by the
lilac-bush, he could hear the sound of voices-girls'


673






JOHN'S FIRST PARTY.


voices-which set his heart in a flutter. He could
face the whole district school of girls without flinch-
ing-he did n't mind 'em in the meeting-house in
their Sunday best; but he began to be conscious
that now he was passing to a new sphere, where
the girls are supreme and superior, and he began
to fee! for the first time that he was an awkward boy.
The girl takes to society as naturally as a duckling
does to the placid pond, but with a semblance of
sly timidity; the boy plunges in with a great
splash, and hides his shy awkwardness in noise and
commotion.
When John entered, the company had nearly all
come. He knew them every one, and yet there
was something about them strange and unfamiliar.
They were all a little afraid of each other, as people
are apt to be when they are well dressed and met
together for social purposes in the country. To be
at a real party was a novel thing for most of them,
and put a constraint upon them which they could
not at once overcome. Perhaps it was because
they were in the awful parlor, that carpeted room
of hair-cloth furniture, which was so seldom opened.
Upon the wall hung two certificates, framed in
black-one certifying that, by the payment of fifty
dollars, Deacon Mayhew was a life member of the
American Tract Society, and the other that, by a
like outlay of bread cast upon the waters, his wife
was a life member of the A. B. C. F. M.-a por-
tion of the alphabet which has an awful significance
to all New England childhood. These certificates
are a sort of receipt in full for charity, and are a
constant and consoling reminder to the farmer that
he has discharged his religious duties.
There was a fire on the broad hearth, and that,
with the tallow candles on the mantel-piece, made
quite an illumination in the room, and enabled the
boys, who were mostly on one side of the room, to
see the girls, who were on the other, quite plainly.
How sweet and demure the girls looked, to be sure I
Every boy was thinking if his hair was slick, and
feeling the full embarrassment of his entrance into
fashionable life. It was queer that these children,
who were so free everywhere else, should be so con-
strained now, and not know what to do with them-
selves. The shooting of a spark out upon the
carpet was a great relief, and was accompanied
by a deal of scrambling to throw it back into
the fire, and caused much giggling. It was only
gradually that the formality was at all broken,
and the young people got together and found their
tongues.
John at length found himself with Cynthia Rudd,
to his great delight and considerable embarrass-
ment, for Cynthia, who was older than John, never
looked so pretty. To his surprise he had nothing
to say to her. They had always found plenty to


talk about before, but now nothing that he could
think of seemed worth saying at a party.
It is a pleasant evening," said John.
It is quite so," replied Cynthia.
Did you come in a cutter?" asked John, anx-
iously.
No; I walked on the crust, and it was perfectly
lovely walking," said Cynthia, in a burst of confi-
dence.
Was it slippery?" continued John.
Not very."
John hoped it would be slippery-very-when
he walked home with Cynthia, as he determined
to do, but he did not dare to say so, and the con-
versation ran aground again. John thought about
his dog and his sled and his yoke of steers, but he
did n't see any way to bring them into conversation.
Had she read the Swiss Family Robinson?"
Only a little ways. John said it was splendid, and
he would lend it to her, for which she thanked him,
and said, with such a sweet expression, she should
be so glad to have it from him. That was encour-
aging.
And then John asked Cynthia if she had seen
Sally Hawkes since the husking at their house,
when Sally found so many red ears; and did n't
she think she was a real pretty girl.
"Yes, she was right pretty;" and Cynthia
guessed that Sally knew it pretty well. But did
John like the color of her eyes?
No; John did n't like the color of her eyes
exactly.
Her mouth would be well enough if she did n't
laugh so much and show her teeth."
John said her mouth was her worst feature.
Oh no," said Cynthia, warmly; "her mouth
is better than her nose."
John didn't know but it was better than her
nose, and he should like her looks better if her
hair was n't so dreadful black.
But Cynthia, who could afford to be generous
now, said she liked black hair, and she wished
hers was dark. Whereupon John protested that
he liked light hair-auburn hair-of all things.
And Cynthia said that Sally was a dear, good girl,
and she did n't believe one word of the story that
she only really found one red ear at the husking
that night, and hid that, and kept pulling it out as
if it were a new one.
And so the conversation, once started, went on
as briskly as could be about the paring-bee and the
spelling-school, and the new singing-master who
was coming, and how Jack Thompson had gone to
Northampton to be a clerk in a store, and how
Elvira Reddington, in the geography class at
school, was asked what was the capital of Massa-
chusetts, and had answered "Northampton," and


[AUGUST,







JOHN'S FIRST PARTY.


all the school laughed. John enjoyed the conver-
sation amazingly, and he half wished that he and
Cynthia were the whole of the party.
But the party meantime had got into operation,
and the formality was broken up when the boys
and girls had ventured out of the parlor into the
more comfortable living-room, with its easy-chairs
and every-day things, and even gone so far as to
penetrate to the kitchen in their frolic. As soon as
they forgot they were a party they began to enjoy
themselves.
But the real pleasure only began with the games.
The party was nothing without the games, and
indeed it was made for the games. Very likely it
was one of the timid girls who proposed to play
something, and when once the ice was broken, the
whole company went into the business enthusi-
astically.
But John was destined to have a damper put upon
his enjoyment. They were playing a most fasci-
nating game, in which they all stand in a circle and
sing a philandering song, except one who is in the
center of the ring, and holds a cushion. At a cer-
tain word in the song, the one in the center throws
the cushion at the feet of some one in the ring,
indicating thereby the choice of a mate, and then
the two sweetly kneel upon the cushion, like two
meek St. Johns, and so forth. Then the chosen
one takes the cushion and the delightful play goes
on. It is very easy, as it will be seen, to learn how
to play it. Cynthia was holding the cushion, and
at the fatal word she threw it down, not before
John, but in front of Ephraim Leggett. And they
two kneeled, and so forth. John was astounded.
He had never conceived of such perfidy in the
female heart. He felt like wiping Ephraim off the
face of the earth, only Ephraim was older and
bigger than he. When it came his turn at length,
-thanks to a plain little girl for whose admiration
he did n't care a straw, he threw the cushion down
before Melinda Mayhew with all the devotion he
could muster, and a dagger look at Cynthia. And
Cynthia's perfidious smile only enraged him the
more. John felt wronged, and worked himself up
to pass a wretched evening.


When supper came he never went near Cynthia,
but busied himself in carrying different kinds of pie
and cake, and red apples and cider, to the girls he
liked the least. He shunned Cynthia, and when
he was accidentally near her, and she asked him if
he would get her a glass of cider, he rudely told
her-like a goose as he was-that she had better
ask Ephraim. That seemed to him very smart;
but he got more and more miserable, and began to
feel that he was making himself ridiculous.
Girls have a great deal more good sense in such
matters than boys. Cynthia went to John, at
length, and asked him simply what the matter
was. John blushed, and said that nothing was the
matter. Cynthia said that it wouldn't do for two
people always to be together at a party; and so
they made up, and John obtained permission to
"see" Cynthia home.
It was after half-past nine when the great festiv-
ities at the deacon's broke up, and John walked
home with Cynthia over the shining crust and
under the stars. It was mostly a silent walk, for
this was also an occasion when it is difficult to find
anything fit to say. And John was thinking all
the way how he should bid Cynthia good-night;
whether it would do and whether it would n't do,
this not being a game, and no forfeits attaching to
it. When they reached the gate, there was an
awkward little pause. John said the stars were
uncommonly bright. Cynthia did not deny it, but
waited a minute, and then turned abruptly away,
with Good-night, John !"
Good-night, Cynthia "
And the party was over, and Cynthia was gone,
and John went home in a kind of dissatisfaction
with himself.
It was long before he could go to sleep for think-
ing of the new world opened to him, and imagining
how he would act under a hundred different cir-
cumstances, and what he would say, and what
Cynthia would say; but a dream at length came,
and led him away to a great city and a brilliant
house; and while he was there, he heard a loud
rapping on the under floor, and saw that it was
daylight.


675







676


THE STARS IN AUGUST.


[AUGUST,


THE STARS IN AUGUST.

BY RICHARD A. PROCTOR.

THE Great Bear is now approaching the north strange superstition was entertained by the old
again, low down. The two forward stars of the astrologers that, whenever all the planets come
Dipper, a and 3, can be seen in
our northern map for the hours
named, low down on the left;
but I remind the learner that so
far as the Dipper is concerned,
the picture illustrating my arti-
cle called "A Clock in the Sky,"
in the December number (the
second number of this volume)
is the one to be studied. The
Little Bear is now descending on
the left or west side of the Pole,
and according to our modern
pictures is on his back, y and y
representing his feet; whereas
the Great Bear's feet are under
him at ic, s, and at i, 2. Next
month I shall have some remarks
to make about the Great Bear,
the shape of which constella-
tion has, I think, been greatly
changed by the map-makers
since the shepherds, who were
the first observers of the heavens,
placed their enemy, the Bear,
among the stars.
In the southern heavens we
find two ecliptical constellations
dividing the honors of the night,
Sagittarius (the Archer) and
Capricornus (the Sea-Goat).
Sagittarius needs no special
mention this month after what
I said of him last month. I must
remind you,.however, that Jupi-
ter has not yet left the constella-
tion. His position for every
night of August will be readily
inferred from the map of his path,
with dates, in the last number.
Capricornus was formerly the
constellation entered by the sun
on the shortest day of the year,
when he is farthest south of
the equator, and about to begin
his return toward it. You will see that at pres- together in Capricornus there is a deluge. Some
ent the constellation includes the ascending sign, said, indeed, that the Flood had been occasioned
marked w for Aquarius (the Water-Bearer). (The by such a conjunction; and that when all the
symbol is placed on the right or west of the planets come together in Cancer the world will be
division of the ecliptic to which it belongs.) A destroyed by fire. I suf5pose the origin of the







X877.j THE STARS IN AUGUST. 677

superstition was somewhat on this wise: They saw been given to it, though our modern maps do not
that when the sun, one of the planets of the astro- picture a real dolphin, but a creature, as Admiral
logical system, was in Cancer his rays were warm- Smyth well remarks, resembling rather "a huge
est; when he was in Capricorn, his rays were periwinkle pulled out of its shell; and certainly not
feeblest, and the air usually damp and cold. If very like a whale.'" He quotes a curious blunder
such effects followed when one planet was in these of certain Orientalists, who, finding the old Hindu
constellations, much more might heat be expected name of the group to signify a sea-hog, considered
when several of the planets were
together in Cancer, and floods
of rain when several were to-
gether in Capricorn. But when
all were together in either con-
stellation, then the greatest heat
or the worst floods possible
might be expected. The tra-
dition is a very ancient one
indeed. Admiral Smyth attrib-
utes its invention' to the astrolo-
gers of the middle ages; but in
reality it was due to the Chal-
dean astronomers, and is found
in company with a statement
that they had observed the heav-
ens for 470,000 years, during
which time they had calculated
the nativity of all the children
which had been born. It is not
absolutely necessary, however,
that you should believe this.
For my own part, I think it quite
possible that they omitted some
of the children born during that
long period.
Capricornus is usually repre-
sented as a fish-tailed goat, the
head and horns where the two
stars a and p are marked, the
feet (fore-feet) at V5, the tail
flourishing off toward y and 6.
Higher up in the heavens we
see the fine constellation Aquila,
or the Eagle, usually represented
in modern maps as shown in
Fig. I on next page. Formerly
a figure of the Bithynian youth,
Antinous, was included in this
constellation; but he is now
generally omitted. Parts of the
Milky Way, near and in this
constellation, are very bright,
and even with a small telescope
seem to be crowded with stars.
Close to Aquila is the pretty little constellation it was not meant to be a fish at all; but the Hindu
the Dolphin, called Delphinus, or perhaps better,- sea-hog" was the porpoise. Indeed, the French
as in my atlas,-Delphin, which is as good Latin, name, from which our word porpoise is derived,
and shorter. This little group really shows some shows that the resemblance has struck others be-
degree of resemblance to the animal whose name has sides the Hindus-that name being forc-Ioisson, or






TIE STARS


IN AUGUST.


hog-fish. Smyth himself has made an amusing
mistake about the two stars Alpha and Beta of the
Dolphin, which bear the pleasing names Svalo-
cin and Rotanev. Of the first epithet, which he
calls cacophonous and barbaric," he remarks that


FIG. I. AQUILA, OR THE EAGLE.

"no poring into the black-letter versions of the
Almagest, El Battini, Ibn Yunis, and other au-
thorities, enables one to form any rational conject-
ure as to the misreading, miswriting, or misappli-
cation, in which so strange a metamorphosis could
have originated." Of Rotanev he simply says that
this barbarous term "putteth derivation and ety-
mology at defiance." If he could but have found
Arabic meanings for these words, as delightful a
story might have resulted as that about Mr. Pick-
wick's great prize, the stone bearing the inscrip-
tion,
BI LST
UMPSHI
SMARK

or the true story of Keip on this Syde," men-
tioned in the Antiquary" in connection with the
stone inscribed A. K. L. L. for Aiken Drum's Lang
Ladle. The real explanation of the names Svalocin
and Rotanev is very simple. The names first appear
in the Palermo Catalogue. The name of the chief
assistant there was Nicolo Cacciatore, or Nicholas
the Hunter, the Latin.for which is Nicolaus Vena-
tor. Reverse these names and you get Svalocin
and Rotanev. Mr. Webb (whose "Celestial Ob-
jects for Common Telescopes" every student should
possess) seems to have been the first to explain
Signor Cacciatore's little puzzle. He truly says
that if the above account is not the right key, it is
certainly a marvel that it should open the lock so
readily.
Above Aquila we see Sagitta (the Arrow), the
smallest of the ancient constellations. The present
appearance of the stars forming this small group
does not very startlingly impress the idea of an
arrow upon one. Possibly the stars have somewhat
changed in brightness and in relative position since
the group was named. In fact, we know that all


the stars are rushing with enormous velocity
through space, and though they seem to change
very slowly indeed in their position in the heavens,
so that most of the constellations have changed
very little even during the 4,000 years which have
passed since they were mapped, yet a small group
like Sagitta would show the effects of such changes
readily enough after a few thousand years. It is at
least two thousand, and probably four thousand,
years old.
The neighboring constellation, Vulpecula et An-
ser, or the Fox and Goose, on the other hand, is
not an old one, but was formed by Hevelius (small
thanks to him). I wished," he says, to place
a fox with a goose in the space of sky well fitted to
it; because such an animal is very cunning, vora-
cious and fierce." (This is a reason, indeed.)
" Aquila and Vultur" (Lyra, the Lyre, was some-
times called Vultur Cadens, the Swooping Vulture)
"are of the same nature, rapacious and greedy."
He might have reasoned equally well that Anser,
the Goose, was fitly placed near Cygnus (the Swan),
and that the Arrow (Sagitta), which had passed over
the Eagle's head, might be regarded as fairly
aimed for the Fox. The real fact is, I suppose,
that Hevelius was determined to fit in a constella-
tion of his own in this space between Sagitta and
Cygnus, and was prepared to be content with
any argument, bad, good, or indifferent, in favor
of his plan.
For shortness, the constellation may be conven-
iently called Vulpecula, or, as in my large atlas,
Vzulfes-that is, the Fox, instead of the Little Fox.
In Vulpecula there is a remarkable object called
the Dumb-bell nebula, or star-cloud. It cannot be
seen without a telescope, and a powerful telescope
is required to show the object as pictured in Fig. 2.
It was formerly thought to consist entirely of small
stars, so remote that they could
not be separately discerned;
but it has lately been discov-
ered that the greater part of
this nebula's light comes from
glowing gas. The vastness of
the space occupied by this
FIG. 2. THE DUMIB-BELL cloud of luminous gas will be
understood-though no mind
can possibly conceive it-when I mention that at
the distance of the nearest of the fixed stars the
whole of our solar system would appear but as
a mere point, even in a powerful telescope. The
Dumb-bell nebula covers quite a large space as
seen in such an instrument. It is also, probably,
much farther away than the nearest fixed stars.
It must, therefore, occupy a region of space ex-
ceeding many times that through which the planets
of our solar system pursue their paths. Yet the


678


[AUGUST,






THE STARS IN AUGUST.


span of our earth's path around the sun is fully
one hundred and eighty-four millions of miles,
while Neptune-the remotest planet of the solar
system-travels thirty times farther from the sun,
having thus an orbit spanning more than five
thousand millions of miles. A globe just fitting
the path of Neptune would contain many quad-
rillions of cubic miles,-and probably the Dumb-
bell nebula exceeds such a globe in volume (or,
to speak more exactly, occupies a space exceed-
ing such a globe in volume) many millions of
times.
Very strange is the thought that astronomers
should have been able to find out what this mighty
mass of glowing gas consists of. Placed yonder
amid the glories of the Milky Way, lost to human
vision through its vast remoteness, only brought
within our view at all by means of powerful tele-
scopes, and only revealing its true shape when seen
with the most powerful telescopes men have yet con-
structed, what at first sight can seem more amaz-
ing than that men should be able to tell what kind
of substance it is which gives out the misty luster
of that cloudlet in space? The very light which
comes to us from the Dumb-bell nebula has prob-
ably taken hundreds of years in crossing the tre-
mendous space separating us from that object.
Yet that light has conveyed its message truly.


Examined with that instrument, the spectroscope,
-whose office I lately described in a paper on the
planet Venus,-the light of the Dumb-bell nebula
presents, not the rainbow-tinted streak which comes
from glowing solid and liquid bodies, but three
bright lights only. At least three lines are seen
if the nebula is examined through a fine slit; if
the field of view is opened, there are seen three
faint images of the cloudlet. The correct way of
describing what the spectroscope tells us about this
object is to say that, instead of its light presenting
all the colors of the rainbow, it is found, when sifted
by the spectroscope, to contain three colors only,
all of them greenish, but slightly different in tint.
One of the colors is precisely such a tint of green as
comes (with four other colors) from glowing hydro-
gen gas, and shows us that there are enormous
masses of hydrogen in that remote cloud; another
tint shows, in like manner, that there are immense
masses of nitrogen; but the third tint has not yet
been found to correspond with a tint emitted by
any known substance. The skein of light from
that double fluff-ball has thus been unraveled by
the spectroscope, after journeying millions of mil-
lions of miles, and has been sorted into three tints,
two of which have been matched against the known
tints of earthly gases, but the third remains as yet
unmatched.


A TWILIGHT DANCE.


679


~






AROUND THE WORLD ON A TELEGRAPH-WIRE.


AROUND THE WORLD ON A TELEGRAPH-
WIRE.

BY E. L. BYNNER.

S- MMY and Johnny and Susy Highflier,
As fine a young trio as heart could desire,
~- They flew 'round the world on a telegraph-wire:
O Billibald-bunkum-bamboo !
For they went out to play
On a sunshiny day,
SWhen jumpty-jump Jimmy, what does he do
S But skip up a pole like a young kangaroo.
_---
r Up a pole, a tall pole, clambered Jimmy Highflier,
Till he got to the top and could clamber no higher,
And found running through it a long slender wire:
Cliticlack-clutterbuck-cray !
f\. -Then he cried out, How queer!
Oh, just look a-here!"
When, tugging and kicking and scrambling away,
Up went Johnny and Susy to see "what's to pay."

Whereupon-guddy zooks !-lo each infant Highflier
Was seized and possessed with the reckless desire
To leave the stout pole and get out on the wire:
Daffy-down-dilly-heigh-oh !
And at once, when they did it,
Without quip or quiddit,
Whizz brr-r like an arrow shot off from a bow,
Away like a flash these three infants did go.
















Hilly-ho, hilly-ho past wind, steam, and fire,
'Round the world, 'round the world on a telegraph-wire,
Outstripping swift Thought or fleet-winged Desire:
Hi-diddle-diddle-dum-dee!
Over country and town,
Now up and now down;
Up high in the air and down under the sea,
Huzzah hilly-ho what a ride this will be!


[AUGusT,


680


UZ







1877.] AROUND THE WORLD ON A TELEGRAPH-WIRE. 61I

Far down in the south, on their course wild and free,
They see the broad Amazon roll to the sea,
Where sport the iguana and gay manatee:
Whack-fol-de--ruddy-heigh-oh !
In that sunny clime
Where the orange and lime
And banana and olive and cocoa-nut grow,
And purple-tailed paroquets sit in a row.


- '.,~~


Down into the sea with a dive and a dip;
How the walrusses, whales, and the porpoises skip,
And the mermaids stick out their green tails for a grip!
Tit-ti-late-tammani-tin !
Susy loses her bonnet;
A shark seizes on it,
And adjusting it deftly by aid of his fin,
Swims away with it snugly tied under his chin.


Away, o'er the lands of Celt, Saxon, and Scot,
Through the realms of the Gaul and the Teuton, they shot
Past Magyar and Sclave, till they came to the Ot-
-Toman Empire-Co-co-coric-o !-
Where the Sultan and Czar
Were having a spar;
While the crowned heads of Europe looked on at the show,
Each crying, "Look out now !-don't tread on my toe!"

Then eastward o'er Asia they sped like the light;
Off went Johnny's cap in their hurricane flight,


II! rli I" I
i!I i!ci~
I';---- -






682


How they flew through the Tropics and regions of snows!
Saw all sorts of folks, dressed in all sorts of clothes,
And some without any at all, I suppose!
Oh-Pillicot-pimpernel-plock !
Till at last, safe and whole,
They came back to the pole,-
Which, alas sliding down, Susy tore her new frock,-
Having only been gone just an hour by the clock.







THE "SWOOPING EAGLE'S" FIRST EXPLOIT.

BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG.


THE Swooping Eagle," you must know, was
a boat-a row-boat. She was the property of
De Witt Clinton Yotman, familiarly known as
Clint Yotman. This gentleman was thirteen years
and three months old.
The "Eagle" was a handsome little vessel,
white as a swan, and trimmed with lines of navy-
blue-strong and light, buoyant and graceful;


"the prettiest bird that swims," Clint declared.
And certainly none of his boy-mates could name
another boat on the river and call it handsomer, or
a better swimmer.
Though it carried the United States flag, and
looked spry and gallant enough for heroic action,
the "Eagle's" career up to the time of its "first
exploit," had not been at all dramatic. There had


THE "SWOOPING EAGLE'S" FIRST EXPLOIT.


While Susy, enraptured, cried out in delight,
Oh-bitti-bat-buttercup-ban "
Next they came to the "Japs,"
Those queer-looking chaps,
Who turned out to look at them, every man,
Each shaking his pigtail and fluttering his fan.


[AUGusT,






THE "SWOOPING EAGLE'S" FIRST EXPLOIT.


been a good deal of paddling about, near the bank;
and two trips across the river to the other shore,"
which, until we cross over there, always looks so
much more pleasant and more beautiful than our
side." There had been some fishing expeditions
when a great deal of noise was made, and very few
fish were caught; and besides, a trip to the "Upper
Island" had been effected, where the yellow lotus,
or sacred bean, rises from the shallow bay in dense
ranks, so gorgeous as to seem like a transplanted
bit from the tropics. But the life of the Swoop-
ing Eagle "-there was no doubt about it-had
been very quiet. It had never taken part in a
regatta; it had never engaged another vessel in
combat; it had never run down a pirate; it had
never encountered a whale or an iceberg; had
never met the sea-serpent; had never rescued a
being from a watery grave. Indeed, it had never
been upset, or even threatened with an upsetting,
for it knew nothing of cyclones,--nothing about
riding waves mountain high. Altogether, it was a
very inexperienced, ignorant little thing. But it
sighed, in the person of its owner, for a sensation-
for a career. Yet the quiet city of Keokuk, on the
Mississippi River, was scarcely the place for thrilling
adventure, though it is situated at the foot of the
Rapids.
Boys don't have half a chance these days,"
Clinton said one day to his crony, Will Atkinson.
" There are n't any bears and lions to hunt, and
there are n't any Indians around to fight, and
gypsies don't ever run away with a feller's little
sister."
That's so," assented Will. We don't have
a good show. There is n't even any chance of get-
ting lost in the woods or on the prairie. And a
body can't run away, on account of telegraphs,
railroads, and police."
I wish that skiff down there would upset," said
Clint, resting on his oars, and allowing his boat to
drift along slowly with the current. I don't want
anybody to get drowned, you know," he quickly
explained, "but I 'd just like to go for somebody
with the Swooping Eagle,' and haul him in all
but dead."
"And have your name in the papers," Will
amended.
That very same evening Mrs. Bartlett sat on her
side porch, which overlooked the river. She was
trying to rock her little boy of seven months to
sleep, and her little boy of seven months was try-
ing to keep awake. And it was very well that he
would not go to sleep, otherwise Mrs. Bartlett
might have been in gossiping with some neighbor,
and might not have known about the-well, we 'll
call it, for want of a shorter name, the antecedent-
of-the-" Swooping-Eagle's "-first-exploit,-and she


would n't have, have,--well, would n't have done
as she did, and Clint Yotman and Will Atkinson
would n't have done as they did, and the Swoop-
ing Eagle would n't have had the exploit," and
we could n't have had this story.
Well, the baby would n't go to sleep, so Mrs.
Bartlett kept sitting out there on the porch, rock-
ing, rocking, back and forth, back and forth. She
was singing-" Hush, my dear, lie still and slum-
ber; and baby, too, was trying to sing, but it only
cooed and grunted, and said, O-u! and g-o-o!-
g-o-o!
"Baby!" Mrs. Bartlett cried, taking him with
a jerk from her shoulder, where he had been lying,
and setting him on her knee, if you don't go to
sleep I'll shake you to pieces," and then she fell to
kissing him as though his conduct had been the
prettiest and most exemplary possible to a baby.
Then she was suddenly motionless-listening.
Did she hear aright? She lifted her head and
turned it facing the river. Was it the word, h-e-l-p!
that was borne on that wailing, piteous, human
tone ? Above the solemn beating of the great river
against the rip-raps it came, down the rapids-a
man's voice, calling over and over, H-e-l-p I'm
drowning H-e-l-p h-e-l-p I 'm drowning!
H-e-l-p !"
It thrilled the woman's soul. She wished she
was a man that she might fly to the rescue. She
wished she could leave baby, and run out and rouse
somebody-everybody. But there was no one in the
house with whom she could leave him. How quiet
the streets were Why did n't somebody come by
whom she could call to and send to that drowning
man? But baby or no baby, she could n't sit there
with that agonized cry H-e-l-p !" piercing her
heart. Gathering baby in her arms, she went with
a swift, eager step into the street, and there she
set up a remarkable screaming, that is remem-
bered in the city to this.day.
Help There is a man in the river drowning I
H-e-l-p h-e-l-p A man in the river drowning
H-e-l-p h-e-l-p !"
Up and down the street the distance of her block
she ran, crying out these words, and at every cry
baby said, "O-u! g-o-o-g-o-o!" as though a
very good joke was in the breeze.
For some moments Mrs. Bartlett did not see a
living being on the street, but after a time doors
began to open, and window-blinds, and somebody
would come down the street, and somebody else
around the corner. Then she would scream all the
louder, Run to the river run to the river A
man's drowning! There 's a man in the river
drowning!"
And people would ask questions, and listen, and
run off down the slope to the river. Yet up and


683







THE "SWOOPING EAGLE'S" FIRST EXPLOIT.


down the street she continued to run, baby cooing
to be out under the sky, she screaming her story
to every one who came in sight, urging all-men,
women and children-to run, run to the river.
Then came De Witt Clinton Yotman stamping
down the street, whistling Shoo Fly." When
he saw Mrs. Bartlett running about and screaming,
he stopped whistling, thinking he had encountered
a crazy woman. But when she cried out to him,
' Run to the river! there's a man drowning!"
Clint's heart leaped to his mouth. Here was a
chance for the Swooping Eagle."
Away he ran, at his tip-top speed, for Will Atkin-
son. That 's what he generally did when there
was an enterprise under weigh.
"We'll take the Swooping Eagle' and go for
him," Clint said.
All right," Will answered, and off they went by
a short cut down the bluff to the river, where the
" Swooping Eagle lay anchored.
You get in first," said Clint, breathing hard
and fast as he untied the skiff with eager, trembling
fingers.
Shoving her off into the water, he leaped on
board after Will in an excited way that almost
upset the boat.
A great crowd had assembled and were hurrying
up stream, while boat after boat was putting out
from shore.
Hear him! he's in the rapids !" Clint cried, in
great eagerness. There he is, holding on to the
skiff. The skiff upset in the rapids when he was
trying to cross."
Has n't he got awful lungs, though How he
does holler!" said the more philosophical Will.
It's awful !" Clint went on, still greatly excited,
and looking as though he was about to leap into
the water and swim to the drowning man's help.
Hold on to the skiff! I 'm a-comin' he
shouted, standing, his face turned up stream,
toward the rapids. Hold on! Help's nigh !
Hold on a little longer I 'm a-comin' I '11 save
you !" He felt inspired.
Then Will thought he ought to help Clint shout.
So he stood up and yelled, Hold on to the skiff
just a minute! We 're coming We'll soon be
along! Don't give up! We're coming! "
Then Clint shouted some more, and took off his
hat and waved it. Then Will took off his hat and
waved it. Then the pocket-handkerchiefs came out,
and they were waved, while the boys kept up their
encouraging cries of "Hold on We're coming. "
One boat passed them, pulling as for life toward
the rapids and the up-turned skiff, to which the
man was clinging, with only his head above water.
A second boat glided by the Swooping Eagle,"
and a third.


A wild fear shot through Clint's heart-a fear
that, after all, he might be cheated of the honor of
saving an imperiled life. He resolved to strain
every nerve to overtake and pass those three boats,
and to keep ahead of those that were nearing him
from behind. Then, all on a sudden, he felt like a
fool, and looked like one,-like the blanket of
blank idiots.
Will, we have n't any oars," he stammered.
Will looked around the boat in a bewildered way,
then up into Clint's face.
Well, if that does n't beat the Jews and the
Gentiles Are n't we a couple of genuses? he
said.
It was true. They had forgotten their oars in
their excitement, and instead of coming," as they
had declared to everybody within hearing, they
were going, going, down the river to-nobody knew
where. Not only would they have to forego the
iclat of rescuing that drowning man, but they must
submit to being themselves rescued from their
ridiculous situation. They must cry for help.
They looked about them. The Eagle was
below the boats that had put out, and the hurrying
crowd had left it behind. The boys marked with
alarm the isolation of their oarless boat on the
river.
And it's almost dark," Clint said. Nobody
can see us."
And there is n't any moon these nights," Will
added. Let's wave our hats and handkerchiefs
till it's plum dark, and shout and yell."
This they did till their arms and lungs were sore.
Will shouted, Help help !" as lustily as the man
with the "awful lungs" had ever dared to. But
no help came. Old Mr. Perseverance Smith, an
ex-ferryman, heard their cries, came out, watched
them for a moment drifting in the dusk down
stream, and then went back to his little house on
the bank.
Just some youngsters mockin' that poor feller
that was like to git drownedd" he said.
(This ferryman, by the way, was called Persever-
ance, because he was the last river-man of the sec-
tion to stop the fight against the ice-king at the
on-coming of winter, and the first to re-open the
conflict in the spring. One autumn his boat got
stuck in the ice in mid-river and had to stay out
there till the spring thaw.
On and on the boys drifted till the lights of
Keokuk were lost to their straining eyes, till they
had passed the mouth of the Des Moines, and
passed Buena Vista, and had begun to reckon con-
cerning the hour of the night they would reach
Alexandria and Warsaw. They had stopped shout-
ing and signaling in sheer hopelessness, and Clint
proposed that they should take turns in watching.


684


[AUGUST,






THE "SWOOPING EAGLE'S" FIRST EXPLOIT.


"You turn in and take the first snooze," he said.
I could n't sleep in this wet dug-out of yours,"
was Will's reply.
You need n't lie down in the water. Make that
seat your downy couch," said Clint, trying, poor
fellow, to be funny, for he thought that Will was
feeling depressed, and was sure that he himself was.
"I'm not a snake to coil up on that plank."
Will spoke with some warmth and some contempt
in his tone. Besides, I might get pitched over-
board, for this sea is n't of the steadiest, and the
wind is blowing harder every minute. Besides all


I'm more afraid they wont come in gun-shot
of us. We've got to yell and shout with all our
might. And you've got to do your share, Will.
You must stand up to the shouting like a man."
"You bet," said Will.
Then they sat silent-almost breathless-watch-
ing the approaching lights and listening to the
sounds of labor as the boat came pushing her
broad, brave breast against the strong current.
Before any cries from the helpless skiff could
possibly have reached the steamer, the boys entered
upon their shouting. On came the great vessel in


Z -- Wm


THE "SWOOPING EAGLE" TO THE RESCUE!


the rest, I 'm too ticklish to sleep. There aint any-
thing jolly about this ride. Why in the name of
sense did n't you put the oars in?"
Why did n't you put them in," Clint retorted.
'T was n't any of my funeral-you were bossing
the rescue job. A pretty rescuer you are A nice
little man to have a boat Your pa had better buy
you a steam propeller and a railroad !"
"See here, Will," said Clint, firing up. "I
aint going to stand-what's that? It's a boat !"
Both boys rose swiftly to their feet and listened.
Floating up to them was the chuff! chuff! chuff!
of a panting steamer, and then a shriek from the
engine.
"See! there are the lights. Oh I do wish I
had pa's lantern," said Will. They wont see us.
What if they should run over us !"


their very path, as it were. She seemed to be
making straight for the little shell. The boys were
greatly excited; the strain was intense, as the
strong boat moved toward them like an on-coming
pitiless fate. One of the lads thought of his home
and mother, but kept on shouting, "Help! help!"
Will could n't shout for the moment, because
there was a great lump in his throat. Then they
both forgot everything else in the sound that came
over the waters to them from the steamer-a shout,
then another and another. Their cries had been
heard. Men appeared on deck, with lights behind
them, looking out over the waters. The boys
called again, and were answered. Then the
steamer veered to the right, and began letting off
steam; the Swooping Eagle had been described
-that was certain. The boys cheered and waved


685


-


------~;i-~


VVE;







HOW BIRDS IMPROVE IN NEST-BUILDING.


their hats-the steamer cheered and swung the
lanterns. Then a yawl darted from under the
steamer, as it seemed, like a duckling from the
mother wing. The boys called, "Here! here!"
a great many times, to indicate their whereabouts.
After a little while, the relief-boat came along-
side the "Swooping Eagle," and the boys eagerly
climbed aboard; then, after another while, the
yawl lay alongside the steamer, and the boys
climbed aboard her, with crew and passengers
crowding and asking questions. This caused the
boys to feel important. Then a free lunch was
spread for the two lions, and they ate something.
Did you ever see two supperless boys eat at about
eleven o'clock P. M. ?
It was after one A. M. when Clint sat down in
his mother's lap, and kissed her with a new happi-
ness; and then went out to look for his father,
who was out looking for him. Just around the
corner he met Will Atkinson, who was on his way
to police head-quarters to report himself found.
Clint wandered about from one place to another for
a long hour before he encountered his father, so
that it was nearly three when he laid his head on
his pillow. He had slept scarcely two hours when
he heard the newspaper carrier crying The Gate


City,"--the morning daily,-and then he heard the
thud of the paper against the front door as it was
thrown on the porch. He stole out and secured it,
and then made himself comfortable in bed to look
over the local items. He wanted to know about
that man-the man whom the "Swooping Eagle"
had meant to rescue. Half way down the local
column Clint found the item he was looking for.
A man had attempted to cross in a skiff from
the Illinois side of the Mississippi. Midway in the
rapids the skiff had been upturned. But the
man keeping his hold, had clung to the boat for
thirteen minutes with only his head above water,
as the swift current bore him on and on to the
neighborhood of the ferry. Clint read with a sigh
that it was one of the ferry company's boats that
effected the rescue, drawing the man aboard just as
his strength had failed him and he had relaxed his
hold on the skiff. Clint read it with a sigh, because
he had seen that very boat, which now wore the
ribbon, when it put out; it was a long way be-
hind his-the poor, shamed "Swooping Eagle."
"She'd have beat it," thought Clint. "I know
she would, and my name and Will's would have
been right here before my eyes now, if I only
had n't forgotten my oars."


HOW BIRDS IMPROVE IN NEST-BUILDING.

-BY PROF. W. K. BROOKS.


You often will meet with the statement in books
about birds and birds'-nests, that each species goes
on, year after year and generation after generation,
building its nest in precisely the way which has
always been followed by its ancestors. It is said
that birds build their nests entirely by instinct, and
that no improvement ever takes place, but that
each bird selects a place for its nest, and gathers
the materials, and goes through the process of
building in exactly the way which has been fol-
lowed for thousands of generations. It is also
stated that young birds know how to do all this
without any instruction, and make their first nest
as skillfully as those old birds which have had ex-
perience, and have raised several broods of young.
These statements are made so often by writers upon
natural history, that it would seem as if there must
be a good reason for them, and yet not one of them
is true. Birds do not always go on building their


nests in similar places to those in which their
ancestors built, but whenever better places are
offered them, they soon learn to take advantage of
them; neither do they stick to the same material
for one generation after another, but whenever
more suitable material is placed within their reach,
they often learn how to use it, so that their nests
are much better than those built by their ancestors;
neither is it true that they never improve the shape
of their nests, nor that the young birds are as skillful
architects as the old.
You all know that only a few hundred years ago
there was not a barn or a chimney within the
United States, unless, perhaps, those singular cliff-
dwelling people in New Mexico and Arizona, of
whom we know so little, had barns and chimneys.
At any rate, we know that on the east side of the
Mississippi, at the time when the white men dis-
covered and settled the country, there were no


686


[AUGUST,






HOW BIRDS IMPROVE IN NEST-BUILDING.


people who knew anything of architecture. The
barn and chimney swallows were to be found here
then as they are to-day, but of course they were
compelled to build their nests in hollow trees and
caves, or any other suitable places which they were
able to find. As soon as white men spread over
the country and erected buildings, these birds,
which had never before seen a barn or a chimney,
soon discovered that these places are much more
warm and dry than rotten trees and damp caves, as
well as better protected from storms; and it prob-
ably did not take many years for the swallows to
discover that snakes and birds and beasts of prey
did not dare to approach such places. These wise
birds, then, improved upon the habits of their
ancestors, and gave up their old savage life in the
woods, in order to share the benefits of civilization.
It seems as natural now for a barn-swallow to
make its nest in a barn, as for a cat-bird to build in
a bush or a tree; but it is plain that this has not
always been the case, and that these birds have
been wise enough to change their mode of life.
As an example to show that birds sometimes
make changes in the material used in building their
nests, we may take the oriole. Many snakes are
fond of birds' eggs, and in order to place its nest
beyond their reach, as well as out of danger from
other enemies, the oriole builds far out, near the tip
of a branch of some tall tree, upon twigs which are
so small that the nest is in little danger from any
enemies except those which are able to fly. These
slender twigs are swayed by every wind, and it
would not answer to build in such a place an ordi-
nary nest, like that of the robin, supported by a
platform of sticks resting upon the branches; for
the least wind would soon break such a nest to
pieces, or throw it down to the ground. Nor
would the swallows' plan of gluing the nest into its
place be very much better; for even if it were
securely fastened, and made strong enough to stand
the shaking without falling to pieces, the first heavy
gale would either break all of the eggs by striking
them against each other, or else it would jerk them
entirely out of the nest, and throw them down to
the ground. It is very clear that an ordinary nest
would not answer at all in such a place, and the
oriole overcomes all the difficulty by weaving a
wonderful hanging nest. This is shaped like a bag
or purse, and is suspended between two twigs at
the point where they unite with each other. The
edges of the mouth of the bag are sewed to the
twigs so that the nest hangs down between them,
mouth uppermost, and in the hardest gale the eggs
or young are perfectly safe at the bottom of this
long, soft, well-lined bag. In weaving this nest
the birds make use of every string or thread which
they are able to find., They pull the lost fish-lines


out of ponds and streams, and gather up the kite-
strings which they find among the branches of the
trees and on the telegraph-wires. They are often
seen tugging at the edges and worn places in the
carpets which are hung out to be beaten at house-
cleaning time in spring, and they often succeed in
pulling out long threads, especially if the carpet is
old and ragged. They sometimes carry off the
skeins of freshly-dyed yarn which the farmers' wife
has hung out to dry; they steal the strings which
are tied around the young grafts upon the orchard
trees, and carry off flax, hemp-everything, in fact,
which they think they will be able to make use of
in weaving their nest. Tresses of hair, and bits
of gold lace from a militia officer's epaulet, are
among the things which have been found in their
nests. They are able to use their beaks and claws
very skillfully, and will untie hard knots in order to
gain possession of a piece of string. Hemp seems
to suit them better than anything else, and if you
will take the trouble to hang out a large bunch of
this where they can find it, in the early spring, when
they are gathering the materials for their nest, they
will return to it again and again until they have
carried all of it away, or until the nest is finished.
If the bunch of hemp is tied up loosely, the dexter-
ity and perseverance with which they will untie
and pull out bunches of the fibers is very interest-
ing, and well worth watching. A finished oriole's
nest is a very strange mixture of grass, hay, horse-
hair, thread, string, yarn and carpet-ravelings.
Sometimes it contains long pieces of kite-tail, and I
once found a nest into which the birds had woven
no less than three fish-lines, with their corks and
sinkers, and the rusty hooks, with dried pieces of
the worms which had been used for bait still upon
them.
It is very certain that a few hundred years ago
orioles could have known nothing about string or
carpet-ravelings, and must have confined them-
selves to such stringy fibers as can be found in a
natural state; and those orioles which build their
nests at a distance from houses, still make use of
grass, flax, the fibres of silk-weed, and other things
which they are able to find; but of course a much
stronger and more durable nest can be woven from
strong thread and string, and the birds have not
been slow to discover this and to act accordingly.
It may perhaps be said that both the oriole and
the swallow owe their improvement to their inter-
course with man, and that the fact that they have
made great advances in their method of building is
owing to his influence, so that these examples do
not prove that birds have any power to improve
themselves without his help. At first sight this
objection seems to have great weight, but as soon
as we examine it more carefully, we find that it


687






HOW BIRDS IMPROVE IN NEST-BUILDING.


does not amount to much. It is true that man them, and their improvement is the result of their
supplies the opportunities of which the barn-swal- own efforts; and there can be no doubt that, if the
lows and the oriole avail themselves, but this is all same advantages had presented themselves inde-
that he does; and the fact that the birds do take pendently of men, the birds would have been wise
advantage of the opportunities, shows that they enough to seize upon them.
have the power of improvement within themselves, We have now seen that birds do sometimes make


'li *











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ORIOLES AND THEIR NEST.
and ready to show itself as soon as occasion arises, improvements in the places selected for their nests,
Orioles and swallows are not domestic, like the and in the materials which they make use of; and
various sorts of poultry; although they find it to I will next try to show you that they occasionally
their interest to associate with man, they are their make great changes for the better in the shape of
own masters, and in this respect are as truly wild their nests.
as those birds which live in the woods and swamps; A few years ago Pouchet, a French naturalist,
in fact, the oriole is as shy and difficult to approach who was then engaged in writing a book upon
as a forest bird. Man has not tamed or instructed natural history, wished to have an engraving made


688


[AUGUST,






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


of the nest of the common European house-martin.
The nests in his collection were nearly fifty years
old, and, thinking that the artist would be able to
make a much better picture from a new and perfect
nest than from an old one, he employed a man to
collect a number from the walls of the houses in
Paris.
Upon comparing these with the old nests in his
collection, Pouchet found that there had been a
very great improvement in the architecture of these
birds within the last fifty years. He says that the
old nests are globular, or forming a segment of a
sphere with a very small rounded opening, just
large enough to allow the passage of the birds
inhabiting it; and the accounts of all the ancient
writers agree in *' :.;i ;,_ this as the form of the
nest in their day. The new nest is in the form of
the quarter of a hollow semi-oval, this giving three
flat surfaces for attachment instead of one, and
,ii. ,i,,l. much more room on the floor of the nest.
The opening is no longer a round hole, but a long
transverse slit, between the upper edge of the nest
and the wall of the building to which it is attached,
thus allowing the young to put their heads out and
enjoy the fresh air, without interfering with the
entrance and exit of the parents. M. Pouchet says
that, besides the advantages of more room inside
the nest, increased facilities for access and greater
strength, it is also more secure from the invasion


of enemies, and better protected from the entrance
of cold and rain, and is thus a decided improve-
ment upon the old form.
Many of the naturalists who have studied the
habits of birds with the greatest care have satisfied
themselves that young birds are not as skillful as
the old. Nearly one hundred and fifty years ago
Lerory, a French naturalist who spent his life in
studying the habits of the wild animals of Europe,
published a book, which has lately been translated
into English, on the Intelligence and Perfectibil-
ity of Animals." In this book he says that it is
impossible that a constant and attentive observer
should fail to remark that the nests of young birds
are almost invariably ill-made and badly situated.
He also shows that the best and most complicated
nests are made by those species of birds whose
young remain a long time in the nest, and thus
have more opportunity to see how it is made.
Wilson, the ornithologist, who spent his life in
studying the habits of our birds, reached the same
conclusion-that there is a very perceptible in-
feriority in the nests of young birds.
I should say more upon the progressiveness of
birds, but I already have given enough space to
the subject for this month. There are several re-
markable nests about which I must say a few words
in the next chapter, before we leave the subject of
birds'-nests.


A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.

BY MRs. C. E. GROSER.


GIRLS, girls have you forgotten that the
Gaspards are going to move to-day ?" said Lizzie
Wayne, as she shook her sisters vigorously by the
shoulders. I 've got the loveliest idea, and I
want you to help me carry it out. Do wake up !"
she continued, despairingly.
"What's the matter?" said Mary, sleepily.
" I'm sure it is not time to get up yet. It is not
even fairly light. If you 've had bad dreams, turn
on your side."
It is n't bad dreams. It's fun," said Lizzie.
I want to take our own team and konmmatic and
go with the Gaspards as far as Tucker's. We
have n't had a dog-ride for ever so long, because,
when we have been at liberty to go, the crust has
been too soft; but this morning it is as hard as
VOL. IV.--45.


ever, and we can be at home again before it can
soften. I will speak to papa and get permission.
Wake Alice and tell her, and hurry as fast as pos-
sible, for every moment is precious."
So saying, the merry-faced girl left the room.
Tapping lightly at her father's door, she asked:
May we have the dogs and the cruising harness,
please ? The Gaspards are going away to Lac
Salle, and we would like to go with them as far as
Tucker's, while the snow crust remains hard."
I 'll tell you when I come down-stairs," said
her father.
Back flew Lizzie to her sisters' room.
What did papa say?" asked both girls in a
breath.
Oh, he wants to be sure about the crust, but


689






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


I 'm certain he 'll let us go, for he said last week
that the Tuckers had been neglected, and that he
wished it was possible to see them before the ice
broke up altogether. I 'm going to see how the
Gaspards are getting along."
We will go, too, in a few minutes."
The above conversation took place in the mission-
house of St. Augustine River, in Labrador.
The three girls were the daughters of the mis-
sionary, who had lived there with his family about
four years.
The little settlement which had grown up around
the mission-house was used during the winter only.
In the summer, the people left their sheltered
quarters and lived in cabins on the various islands
along the coast. There they caught, salted and
cured their fish, and also traded with people from
Quebec and Nova Scotia who exchanged dry-goods
and provisions for fish, oil and furs.
The Gaspards, at the time of our story, were
making their spring move. When Mary and Alice
reached the cabin of their departing friends, they
found everything in a state of confusion. The men
were moving and arranging the large bundles, and
articles of furniture. The children were in a state
of happiness and hilarity peculiarly trying to their
tired and '.. -, l ;. elders.
You, Joe !" exclaimed the exasperated father,
as he discovered his second son carrying out a
bundle containing garments the children would
have to wear on the journey, if you stir from that
'ere chair, I'11 make you walk half-way to Lac
Salle. So there I"
Joe was subdued for the time, but soon began to
occupy himself with "washing" the face of a baby
brother, who resented the insult by kicks and
screams. Mary rescued the poor little fellow, and
sent Joe to see if her father was coming,-just as
that gentleman entered.
Almost ready to start, eh, Mr. Gaspard?" he
asked.
Almost, sir."
You must wrap up warmly," said Mr. Wayne.
" The wind will be blowing very hard on the out-
side bays, I expect."
Ah, yes, sir; I '11 be keerful."
Well, papa, have you decided to favor our
scheme?" asked Lizzie.
Yes. The crust is hard, and you would better
make the most of this chance and call on the
Tuckers. But you must be sure to return early,
before the heat of the sun has spoiled the ice."
We will be very careful. It is only a little past
four now; by half-past four we must start from
here. We can get there by half-past five, pass
an hour and a half there, and return in another
hour; allowing half an hour for stoppages, we can


be back easily by half-past eight. You see, I have
reckoned all the pro's and con's, and have all my
plans cut and dried," said Lizzie to her father.
Come, girls," she added, we must go and
harness up the dogs."
"Ha, dogs! Hi! hi! hi!" they cried as they
neared home. Here, Spot! Mona! Black! Leo!
Neptune come out! Come, Douglas come
along. Hi! hi!"
Out tumbled the dogs, as pleased as if they were
being called to breakfast instead of to work.
They capered and danced about the girls, and
tumbled over one another in a very lively manner;
and when the "cruising" harness, with its bright
rosettes and streamers of ribbon, was brought
out, they actually howled and yelped with excite-
ment.
They knew, then, that a "'cruise" with a light
load was before them, and not hard work like wood-
hauling. So, instead of running away and hiding
in the bushes, as when the work-harness was
brought out, they each tried to be first in place.
Dog harnesses are very simple,-only two rings
of oxnoe (salted and dried seal-skin), one large
than the other, joined by two straps of the same
material. The larger ring goes just behind the
fore-legs of the dog, the smaller one around his
neck; consequently, one of the connecting bands
goes between his fore-legs, and the other along his
back. The back strap is continued in a long string
or trace," at the end of which is a loop.
The kommatic, or sled, is made by placing two
boards on edge, the fore-ends being turned up,
somewhat like the runners of a child's coasting-
sled. These form the runners, and on them are
"sewed," not nailed, strips of wood called bars.
These bars are generally cut in some fancy form at
the ends, and are sometimes very beautifully inlaid
with differently colored woods and white whalebone.
The bars are placed "close together," and are
sewed or lashed to the runners, because nails are
apt either to start out or to split the wood when the
kommatic leaps from a height upon hard ice, as
sometimes happens. The string or lashing gives a
little, and so prevents this danger.
The runners are shod with whalebone: not the
black material used by corset-makers, but the real
white bone of the whale. It is scraped and polished
until it is as smooth as ivory, and makes splendid
shoeing for the kommatics. No shafts are used.
The part of the runner turned up is called the nose.
From runner to runner, through the noses, is fas-
tened a piece of oxnoe, so tied as to leave two ends
in the middle. On one of these ends is a large
whalebone button, and on the other is a loop.
When the dogs are to be attached to the
kommatic, the several loops on their back-straps


690


[AUGUST,







A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


are threaded on this piece of oxnoe, then the
looped end is slipped over the button at the other
end, and the harnessing is complete.
Kommatics have nothing to support the arms or
back. They are simply long flat sleds, varying in
length from twelve to fifteen feet. A buffalo-robe
or bear-skin, to sit and kneel on, is lashed to the
sled with a long piece of oxnoe, which is much
stronger and lighter than thick rope. The dogs
are driven entirely by voice and whip; there are
no reins. A good head-dog, or leader, will turn
at once, when ordered, in ordinary circumstances.
When the driver wishes to go to the right, he calls,
" Ouk ouk ouk "-when to the left, Rarrah !
rarrah !"
Very quickly did our friends prepare for their
journey. The dogs were harnessed and fastened
to a strong post to prevent their running away.
The whip was a curious one. It had a very
short wooden handle, to which were fastened layers
upon layers of oxnoe. These were gradually
tapered down to a lash of one thickness of oxnoe.
The whip was sufficiently long to reach the head-
dog, whose trace was fully thirty feet in length.
We are all right now, I believe," said Lizzie,
" so let us go and see if the Gaspards are ready to
start."
They found that Mrs. Gaspard was just about to
be packed into her kommatic in the usual fashion
of the Labrador women. On her sled a bottom-
less box, shaped something like the body of a
sleigh, was securely lashed. In this was placed
a feather-bed, and then she got in, and, half lying
down and half supported by pillows, she was ready
for the journey. Her children were stowed about
her, and then blankets and comforts were tucked
around them to keep them warm.
The girls packed the children in, and then, pat-
ting Master Joe on the head, and bidding him be
good and not tease his little brothers and sisters,
they went back to their own conveyance.
Oh, the drags !" cried Alice. We are going
without the drags, and we can't stop the dogs
suddenly without them."
"I'm very glad you remembered them," said
Mr. Wayne, as he brought two large rings of thick
rope and tied them to the kommatic. Now you
are all right, I think."
All this time the dogs had been keeping up a
series of screams, barks, yells and whines, almost
deafening. At last the word was given to start;
the dogs were loosed; and away dashed the kom-
matic down the bank to the river as fast as the
animals could gallop.
Hold on tightly until we are clear of the ridges
of ice on the edge of the river, or you will be thrown
off," cried Lizzie, who was foremost of the girls.


All right !" they cried. We are enjoying the
bouncing famously."
The other team had started a few minutes before,
and was about half a mile ahead.
These dogs are nearly crazy, I think," said
Alice. They race as if possessed. I wonder
whether we shall overtake the Gaspards before
they get to the Pocashoe River?"
Indeed we shall; we are fast gaining on them
now. I don't want our dogs to get mixed with
theirs, or we shall have a fight to quell. All the
dogs are so fresh that it would be hard work to
separate them," said Lizzie.
"Well, let us try to get ahead, out of their
way," said Mary.
Is not the air delightful-so fresh, clear and
still ?" said Alice.
"Yes, indeed; and see how the sun throws a
crimson glow over the snow, and how the little
particles of ice glitter and sparkle !"
Who would imagine that it was the sixth of
June?" said Lizzie. Doesn't it seem strange,
when we think of sleigh-riding in June? They are
eating peas and strawberries in New York, and are
probably complaining already of the hot weather.
Dear, dear! It seems so strange!" and Lizzie
fell into a deep reverie over warmer climes. She
was aroused by the dogs uttering quick, short
yelps as they found they were overtaking the other
team.
"Haw! haw! ha-aw!" cried the girls, en-
deavoring to stop them.
Quick The drags !" cried Lizzie. Oh
dear, I do believe that we must let them fight. It
is too bad."
I can't untie the drags !" cried Mary. There,
I 've got them off at last; there they are."
"It's no use," said Lizzie. They can't be
stopped now."
Don't attempt to get off, or they may throw
you down, and kill you in the fight. They don't
care who or what is bitten, so long as they bite
something!" cried Mr. Gaspard, as he jumped from
his kommatic.
All right !" said the girls. Be careful about
yourself!" they screamed, as the bold fisherman
went into the thick of the fight and dealt vigorous
blows with the thick butt-end of his whip, so forci-
bly as to send several of the dogs howling away
as far as their traces would allow them. The girls
kept these dogs apart by means of their long whip.
At last the fight was over, and sore and howling
the teams started again.
The Waynes now took the lead at a good quick
dog-trot.
Their way lay along the Pocashoe River. It was
only a few hundred yards wide, and was shaded by






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


trees of spruce and fir, so it looked more like a
magnificent carriage-way than a river.
All went along peacefully; the two kommatics
kept within hailing distance, and a stream of merry
jest and banter flowed freely.
When we get to the portage, I want you to go
first, Mr. Gaspard," said Lizzie. You know the
way better than we. We will drive a little way up.
the river, past the entrance of the portage, so that


remarked. Me 'n' George drove Spot and Leo,
t'other day, and they turned when we wanted 'em
to. I just called Ouk! ouk !' and they went to
the right side, and I called Rarrah rarrah !' and
they went to the left side."
That was because they were well trained, Joe,"
said Lizzie. They did what was told them, and
did n't stop to ask why, as boys do sometimes,
They obeyed at once and asked no questions."


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CAPSIZED IN
you can enter without having to pass our dogs.
When you're safely in, we'll turn and follow you."
Very well. I guess we wont have much trou-
ble, the going is so good," returned Mr. Gaspard.
" Here you, Joe !" he exclaimed, "where are you
going ?" and, catching that young man by the back
of his coat-collar, he hauled him off the edge of the
sled.
I want to ride like Miss Lizzie and Miss Mary,"
said Joe. They can jump off and run when they
want to," he added, wistfully.
"Joe!" cried Miss Mary, "would you like to
ride with us through the portage ?"
Joe readily accepted the invitation, and in a few
moments was snugly seated among the girls.
"Miss Mary, I can drive dogs," he gravely


I;








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How do they drive horses, Miss Mary?" asked
Joe, anxious to change the, subject. "Do they
drive 'em like dogs?"
They put an iron bit into the horse's mouth,
and fasten to it lines called reins. When they
pull on these lines, to either the left or right, the
horse goes in the direction of the pull."
How funny !" said Joe. Is a horse very much
larger than a dog? I've seen pictures of horses,
but they are all little sizes."
Here Mary gave Joe a full and minute descrip-
tion of the horse-an animal almost unknown in
Labrador-and the method of driving it.
According to the plan laid down, Mr. Gaspard
entered the portage first; and as the dogs had lost
their first freshness and settled into their ordinary


692


[AUGUST,






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


trot, no more fights were feared. The portage was
simply a way through the woods, saving a long
journey around. Except that some trees had been
cut down in this road, there was no difference be-
tween it and the forest.
The snow was deep enough to cover the stumps
of the felled trees, and as the portage had been
used all winter and the snow crust was still hard,
the party had no difficulty in following it.
Is it not lovely in the woods ?" said Mary.
" Let the dogs walk through, Lizzie, so that we
can enjoy it as long as possible."
So they traveled more slowly, talking and laugh-
ing and delighting themselves in the free air, and
fell back quite a distance behind the others.
At the end of the portage, leading to the bay,
was a long, steep hill. So steep was it that Mr. Gas-
pard decided to take the dogs from his kommatic,
and, letting them scramble down as best they could,
himself guide the sled down, coasting fashion. This
he did, and then, calling his dogs together, he pro-
ceeded to hitch them up again.
But the dogs were loath to leave their rolling
upon the snow. Therefore, by the time Mr. Gas-
pard had secured them all, and was fastening them
to the kommatic, the girls had nearly reached the
top of the hill.
The young people were so engrossed in pleasant
chatter that they did not notice how near they were
to the end of the portage.
The first intimation they had of it was a wild
howl of delight from their dogs, who described their
late foes and rushed frantically toward them.
Oh, Mary, hand the drags over cried Lizzie.
Tie dogs will be past the top of the hill before we
can check them, and we certainly shall be thrown
off! "
Mary passed the drags, and Lizzie quickly slipped
them over the noses of the kommatic; but it was
of no use.
Hold on as tightly as you can, but have your-
selves quite free from .. .. i il.., so as to be able
to jump if the kommatic should be overturned,"
said Mary. "Joe, hold on to my dress, and I will
put an arm around you," she continued.
The sled now began the descent. Fast and
faster it went, and Lizzie saw that it was overtaking
the dogs, and, of course, would be overturned.
SJump she cried, and, suiting the action to
the word, she sprang from her seat into the deep
snow.
The others followed, and, rolling and tumbling,
they slid down as far as some bushes and felled
trees. Here they stopped, panting and breathless,
and reviewed the situation.
As soon as they had recovered breath sufficiently,
they laughed heartily at their ridiculous appear-


ance. Lizzie still firmly grasped the whip with one
hand. With the other she had caught at a branch
of a spruce-tree which had broken off, leaving in
her grasp a green trophy of the leap. Mary had
one arm around little Joe, who was kicking vigor-
ously to get loose and help himself. And Alice,
who had rolled farther, was looking ruefully at
a rent caused by Master Joe's feet.
Mr. Gaspard saw the accident, and came running
up the hill at a great rate, to assure himself that
they were unhurt.
We are all right, Mr. Gaspard," cried the girls
when they saw him; "not hurt a bit."
How are we to get down the rest of the hill ?"
asked Alice.
Slide down, to be sure," said Lizzie. The
snow is too slippery to walk on, the dogs and sled
are at the foot of the hill, so we can't ride; there-
fore nothing remains but to slide."
So they bestrode some loose branches, and down
they went, laughing and enjoying the fun, and in
a few moments had reached the sled.
After more laughing and joking, they regained
their seats, put Joe back with his mother, and bid-
ding one another good-bye, the teams separated.
The Waynes now became very quiet, for good-
bye," even if said for only a short time, has a
depressing effect upon the spirits. However, as
they neared the island on which stood the cabin of
the Tuckers, they became chatty again, and were
all right when, after giving their dogs in charge of
a boy, they sat around a hot stove asking and
answering questions.
Mrs. Tucker piled the already nearly red-hot
stove full of wood, and set about getting breakfast.
I 'm sorry not to have anything nice to give
you ; but all our salt pork is gone, and we 've
nothing now but some fresh trout caught t' other
day."
Don't apologize at all, Mrs. Tucker. We're
as hungry as bears, and can eat almost anything,"
said Alice.
The fish was fried in seal-oil, and the tea was
made from spruce-boughs. Still they managed to
satisfy their hunger, even 1i,.-.. _1. butter was
wanting and the bread was sour, having been made
with old leaven instead of yeast.
After breakfast, Alice, who had been told by the
children that "down the bay there were lots of
clams uncovered by snow," and knowing her father
to be particularly fond of these shell-fish, deter-
mined to get a few for him; so, accompanied by
the children, she set out, leaving her older sisters
to be entertained by the other members of the
family.
Don't stay long," said Mary. We must start
very soon, or the crust will be soft."






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


I will be very quick," said Alice.
We will call you in half an hour, and you must
return at once, clams or no clams," said Lizzie.
All right! said Alice.
Half an hour soon passed, and Lizzie went to the
door to call the clam-pickers, but not one was in
sight. She called, but there was no answer.
Oh dear, it is too bad!" she said. Mary,
come and help me call them."
So both girls united their voices, and called over


any quantity of clams, and picked a whole bucket-
ful. I'm sure papa will enjoy them very much."
Yes, if we are able to get home to give them
to him," said Lizzie. Good-bye, friends we must
start at once."
So our heroines whipped up their dogs and began
their journey in right good earnest.
The going was much more difficult now than
before. The crust was already beginning to melt,
and the dogs had all they could do to get along.


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"THE DOGS BECAME FRANTIC AT SIGHT OF THE DEER."


and over again until they were almost hoarse, but
to no purpose.
I would leave her here until to-morrow, if it
were really safe; but the river may be open by
that time," said Mary.
"Well, we'll put the dogs into harness, so as
not to have to wait when they do come," said Lizzie.
This was done, and both girls were ready to start;
but still there was no sign of the wanderers.
Another quarter of an hour went by, and just as
Lizzie had determined to go in search of them, they
made their appearance, quite unconscious that they
had been giving their friends such anxiety.
I 'm very sorry," said Alice, penitently, when
all had been hastily explained to her. We found


Just as they were nearly .across the bay, and the
girls were comforting themselves with the thought
of a nice ride through the portage, where the sun
had not yet been able to soften the crust, their dogs
began to whine impatiently. Raising their noses
in the air, and sniffing eagerly, the animals with
one consent suddenly veered around, and almost
flew over the snow.
Oh dear they have scented something. We
must try to get them turned around," said Mary;
and she applied her whip vigorously, and all cried,
" Ha, ha, ha, dogs!" to try to stop the excited
animals.
Now, how provoking said Lizzie. I wonder
what they have scented-probably a partridge."


694


[AUGUST,


-

t- ..






A SUMMER RIDE IN LABRADOR.


No, it is a deer," said Alice, pointing to a
beautiful stag bounding across the bay before them.
The dogs became frantic at sight of the deer,
and the girls, knowing they could not stop them
now, did not even try to put on the drags.
All held on as if for dear life. On, on went the
deer, and on, on went the dogs !
Where shall we be taken to ?" cried Alice, in
dismay.
The deer is going toward the woods," said
Lizzie, re-assuringly. If the ice is good, and we
can reach there safely, we shall be all right, for we
can stop the dogs then."
The ice bore well, and the sled reached the edge
of the bay in safety.
Now, hold fast, while we go up the bank into
the woods," cried Lizzie, and then we are all
right."
Up the bank they went, tumble and bump, and
at last reached the woods. Lizzie then dexterously
steered the kommatic in such a way that it ran with
its-front bars against a tree, the noses of the run-
ners being one on either side of the trunk.
So the dogs were effectually stopped, for they
could not pull the tree down; and, howling with
rage and disappointment, they only tugged fruit-
lessly at their traces, while the deer bounded safely
away into the woods. The girls waited until the
dogs had quieted a little, and then turned the kom-
matic toward home.
It was a weary, weary journey. The sun had
melted the snow so much that in many places it
was only slush, and the girls were obliged to walk
until they got to the bank of their own river, on
the other side of which stood the mission-house.
Walked? Why, it hardly could be called walk-
ing; it was wading-wading up to the waist in
snow slush !
Oh, how joyfully they caught sight of the familiar
home buildings !
I'm sure I can never walk across there," said
Alice, gazing at the river. It's nearly a mile,
and I'm so tired I can hardly stand."
We must none of us try to walk," said Mary,
gravely. Listen The ice is breaking-up farther
up the river; we must get across before it breaks-
up here."
The three girls turned pale. This was more
than they had reckoned on.
With a silent prayer in each heart, they seated


themselves once more in the kommatic, and started.
The dogs, encouraged by the sight of home, quick-
ened their pace and bounded forward.
Hold on for dear life said Mary. "It is
reallyfor life this time."
Louder and louder grew the sound of the break-
ing ice, and more and more the girls urged on
their dogs. The excitement was now very great,
and two-thirds of the distance was already passed,
when a loud crack behind caused them to turn
their heads. To their dismay, they saw a line of
blue water where the ice had parted. The struggle
began to seem hopeless.
The people on shore now joined in calling the
dogs. Faster and faster they went, but still hardly
fast enough.
Oh, my clams cried Alice. "The bucket
has been jerked off, and they have been scattered
and lost behind."
"Oh, bother the clams said Lizzie. "If it
had n't been for them, we should be all right by
this time."
Yes," I know," said Alice, penitently. But
't is too bad, nevertheless "
And now, in spite of urging, the pace of the
dogs begins to slacken. All hearts turn chill with
fear. What can they do? The blue line is grow-
ing wider and wider. Can they get ashore in time ?
Suddenly, the missionary starts forward, and,
seizing an axe that lies near, he runs toward the
scaffold where the dogs' food is kept. Hastily
mounting the ladder, he chops up some meat and
throws it to the ground; the dogs on shore gather
around and eagerly devour it. Still the missionary
chops and throws down great pieces of the whale-
flesh, shouting to the kommatic dogs all the time.
The panting creatures see him, and see also the
dogs on shore eating as fast as possible ; and, fear-
ful of being too late for their share, they make a
last desperate effort, and reach the shore safe and
sound with their precious freight !

It was a joyful meeting, and everybody felt as if
death had been almost in their midst.
Within ten minutes of the girls' arrival, the river
was a mass of floating ice.
But, in spite of their grave thoughts, they all
teased Alice about the lost clams.
Well," said she, if I had not got the clams,
we would all have missed an adventure. So there "


695


~





696


FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


LITTLE PEERY; OR, WHAT IT CAME TO.

IT was very funny, and I '11 tell you how it happened. While busy at
work, I heard a wee little noise, and went to see what it was. After look-
ing a long while, I saw something like picture No. I. What could it be?
A period ? No, for after getting closer, a little tail peeped out, as you





No. i. No. 2. No. 3. No. 4.
see in No. 2. I thought it must be a comma; but, looking again, it was
like No. 3-one long tail and two short ones. What do you suppose it
was ? I looked once more, and-mercy! One long tail, and one, two,
three, four, five, six short ones. "Perhaps it's alive,"
said little Johnny, and, sure enough, the next minute
out it popped. What! A cat? Yes, here is its
picture (No. 5), true to life, and, oh so black it might
have been
No. s. in mourn-
ing for a whole family. Ethel
named it "Peery," because it "
looked so much like a period _-
when she first saw it; so we all
called it Peery. Is n't that a
queer name? No. 6.
Well, Peery had n't been here long before he crawled into a box like
the one you see here (No. 6). Did you ever
hear of such a very funny kitty ? But when he
\ fell into the pail (picture No. 7), Johnny burst
a button off with laughing. You will see in
No. 8 how Peery looked in getting out of the
M11. /pail, all wet.
Well, this strange specimen of a cat stayed
t with us all day, and cut up the oddest little
Stricks-rolling on its back, getting under foot,
playing with Johnny's ball, and running off
r with mamma's handkerchief. Once it was lost


[AUGUST,





X877.] FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. 697

in the work-box; but when grandma thought it was
a ball of black yarn, and tried to pick it up, she soon
found that the ball had claws, and dropped it very
quickly. And then Peery picked up the real ball
of yarn, which had rolled on the floor, and scampered
off into a corner, where he tangled the thread so
much with his sharp claws, that Johnny had to wind
it all up again. When it was all wound, Johnny
began to scold
and tease him,
/ but Peery ran No. s.
away and hid under the book-shelves.
And he would not come out till
Johnny tied a string to a little chip
of wood, and dragged it before
No. 9. the shelves. Then Peery suddenly
jumped out at it, as if it were a mouse.
When night came, little Peery looked so much like the dark that we
thought him lost this time, sure enough, until he began meou-meou-
meouing (No. 9), and walking
about like the Black Prince, when
Ethel got it some milk; and here's /
that funny black Peery eating it
(No. Io). See his tail curled up
like a letter O. Poor Peery! he
ate and ate and ate, growing fatter
and fatter, until he could hardly see
out of his eyes. But you never No. 0o.
could guess where he went to sleep. Why, right in the saucer See him!
But Peery had an end, and so must my story. He looks so nice and
comfortable in the saucer, that we will leave him there sound asleep.


JC









JACK- IN-THE-PULPIT.


SAC Ki- 1 N -i HE P U LIT.


WARM day? Yes, indeed,-quite warm; and
so I '11 give you a nice cool word to look at:




ICE


As soon as you have looked at it long enough,
and begin to feel chilly, run to the fire, my chicks,
and take all the comfort you can. Then, when
you 've taken all the comfort you can, and begin to
feel lazy, prick yourself briskly with the freezing-
point of a thermometer, and rejoice that your
Jack did n't ask you to name the kingdom to which
ice belongs,--mineral, vegetable, or animal.
Why, in my opinion, the Jack who would ask
his chicks such a thing as that during the dog-
days, deserves to be dragged out of his pulpit.

PRESSING FLOWERS.
THE Little Schoolma'am, a few days ago, was
showing the children how to press flowers; and she
passed around two specimens, in perfect condi-
tion, which were pressed last summer in her
fashion. Perhaps your Jack may as well give you
a hint of it.
Her plan is to take a sheet of thin cotton-batting
and lay the flowers carefully on it, covering them
with another sheet, and then putting the whole
under slight pressure. Sometimes, when the
flowers are thick, and contain a good deal of
moisture, she puts them in fresh cotton the next
day, and after that does not disturb them. But in
pressing nearly all the small flowers, the cotton


need not be changed at all, and not even opened
until the flowers are preserved.
I noticed that the Little Schoolma'am's pressed
flowers had a soft, bright look. She groups the
long-stemmed ones prettily in vases, or lays them
between sheets of thin glass, and hangs them
in her windows in the winter, she says. They
have n't at all the poor, pinched, faded, flattened
look of flowers prepared in other ways.
The Little Schoolma'am presses green leaves and
ribbon-grass in the same way, keeping their color
perfectly; and she told the children that when they
wanted to pile a number of these double cotton
layers together, it was better to lay a sheet of
blotting-paper in between the sets. Sometimes she
lays tissue paper between the flowers and the
cotton ; but it is of the thinnest kind.
DISCONTENT.
"DISCONTENT is not always a bad quality. It
is well to be contented with some things, but bet-
ter to be discontented with others,-contented with
the good things around you, and discontented with
the bad things within you. If there is any hope
of your being able to improve yourself in any way,
or better any course of action, by all means be dis-
contented with your present plan."
That is what I heard the Deacon saying to the
old and young folks the other day. And I could n't
help nodding when he added:
Some of the greatest improvements in civili-
zation, and the noblest advances in human inter-
course, have been brought about by a spirit of
active discontent."
But be careful, my youngsters, how you handle
this bit of advice. If you take hold of it at the
right end, and don't swing it too far, it will be use-
ful to you.
ROBIN HOOD CLUBS.
WHAT do you think Jack saw the other day?
What but a row of little birds perched on the top
of a target? They seemed to be holding a con-
sultation over it. After a while, one of them flew
down and began to peck at the bright red and blue
rings with which it was painted. At length, he
poked his bill into a round hole which had been
made by an arrow; he seemed to suspect some-
thing, for he instantly flew back to the top and
joined his companions. And then such a clatter
as there was Finally, they all flew off with a
business-like air, as if something must be attended
to at once.
But they need not have been frightened; the
boys and girls of the red school-house are nearly
all Bird-defenders. Never a little wing shall stop
fluttering on account of their arrows.
The youngsters have. a Robin Hood Club to
which girls as well as boys are admitted, and every
Saturday they bring their bows and arrows and
shoot at the target in a great prize match,-the

prize generally being an orange, or something of
that sort,-and nearly every afternoon they prac-
tice for an hour or so. It is a great delight to the
girls, and no little enjoyment to the boys, although


698


[AUGUST,







JACK-IN-THE- PULPIT.


I find that the latter often prefer a good race or a
game of ball, to archery practice.
Jack is glad to see that this beautiful sport is
nowadays being revived, and so long as the Robin
Hoods are careful and do not put out one another's
eyes, there is no reason why they should not have
any amount of fun in the sport.
The boys of the red school-house club wear
green tunics for uniform, with little green caps.
Each girl also wears a green cap, with the addi-
tion of a sash of the same color passed over the
left shoulder.

A BOY WITH HIS EYES OPEN.

DEAR JACK : I wish some of your little folks could take walks
with a boy of my acquaintance, named Frank. They would find
more going on around them than they had ever dreamed of.
A while ago we were out walking, and heard some blue-jays making
an unusual noise. I thought it was only bird-talk; but Frank said
something was wrong with them, and we soon found four blue-jays
fighting an enormous owl.
Frank is a bit of a naturalist, and naturalists notice what other
people would never see or hear. One e--n"i" -i.. it was quite
dark, Frank and I were returning from a I1 i.._. ,. stopped and
listened intently. I did the same, only he heard something and I
did n't. Presently, he went and threw his hat up into a tree, and
when it came down we found that the tree was swarming with beetles.
Frank had heard them fifty or sixty feet off!
I wish you could have seen us at another time. We were lying at
full length in the long grass, and three fine night-hawks (whip-poor-
wills) were sailing over us. Every little while they would swoop
down quite near to us, like arrows, their fall making a noise at one
time like the wind moaning, and then quick and clear like the hiss
of a bullet; and then they would rise up again with a loud, sharp cry.
They were after insects. We found one that had been shot. It was
no larger in body than a robin. Its wings, when closed, ... I. : .
than its tail, its legs were small, its eyes were large and IH ., .. I ,r
mouth opened wide enough to take in several beetles at once These
signs show that the bird lived on insects, catching them in the air,
and seeing very well and very far.
Frank carries with him a bottle filled with alcohol, and he may be
talking to some one, when off le will rush after an insect of some
kind to put into his bottle as a specimen. He will tear around the
bedroom at night for beetles that have flown in.
I do not want to convey the idea that Frank is either odd or a
lazy book-worm; no, he is a tall, athletic fellow, with a love for
study, and exercise, and sport very equally balanced. He is good
at all manly sports, besides being quite a society chap. Above all,
he is a keen observer of nature; and so he enjoys himself, and
learns something new every day. Tell your boys about him, Mr.
Jack, and induce all to follow his example, who are not already in
the ranks of young naturalists.-Yours truly, T. S.


THE FIERY TEARS OF ST. LAWRENCE.

BEFORE vacation, I heard Deacon Green tell
some of the big girls and boys that he hoped they
would take voyages about the sky during some of
the warm summer evenings; for Mr. Proctor's
charts and descriptions made it easy work to get
acquainted with the queer people and grim mon-
sters the professor finds ;:i ..... the stars.
Then the Deacon got r -!!., about meteors,-
I remember telling you something about them
myself in October, 1874,-but here is what the
Deacon said:
Showers of meteors fall at certain seasons of
the year: about the 9th to the i4th of August,
and the I2th to the 14th of November. At one
time, the August shower was supposed to have
some reference to the martyrdom of brave old
St. Lawrence, for that good man's death took
place on the loth of the month, and so these me-
teors were called 'the fiery tears of St. Lawrence.'
But the latest news about them is "


Your Jack didn't catch the end of the expla-
nation, my chicks, and, as the Deacon is on his
holiday tour, I'd be obliged if some of you would
inquire into the matter, and let me know what
you have found out, before this month's shower
actually falls. For, when I have learned the
"latest news" about these meteors, perhaps it
wont be so unnerving to lean back in my lonely
pulpit and watch them darting about the sky.


WHICH ARE THE SWIMMERS?

LAST month, I am told, Dr. Hunt gave lessons
in swimming to all the ST. NICHOLAS readers who
are not swimmers already. I wonder how many
of you know of the great numbers of swimmers
there are in the world besides fishes and human
beings ?
Of course you all are aware that most dogs can
swim; but how about other animals ? Have you
ever looked into this matter?
Once the Deacon, in his travels, saw a tiger
swimming magnificently. (So you may set this
quadruped down among the first on your list.)
The creature, says the Deacon, put one paw first
into the stream, as if to ascertain the direction of
the current, and then plunged in as though water
were his native element.


SEVENTEEN-YEAR LOCUSTS.

Montclair, N. J., July 14, 1877.
DEAR JACK: The locusts have made their appearance in our
neighborhood, but I have not yet heard what extent of country they
cover. They are the "seventeen-year locusts," and, correct in their
calculations as to the time promised for another visit, here they are.
We have been very much interested in watching them emerge from
their shells or cases, in which they come up out of the ground, where
they have been all these years.
After the larva has attached itself to a tree, or something to which
it can cling securely, the locust splits the case part way down the
back, and draws out first its head and fore-legs; these parts it throws
backward almost at a right angle to the grub. Remaining in this
position several minutes (we thought it must certainly lose its bal-
ance and fall to the ground), the locust moves its legs, stretching
them, and strengthening them by exposure to the air, until it is able
to draw itself up. Then it clings to the almost empty case, and, with
a strong pull, extricates the rest of its body, when it hangs limp,.
and apparently tired out with the exertion. The wings gradually
unfold to their full size, and in a little while the locust is strong
enough to crawl away from its deserted shell.
Locusts are very light in color when they first come out, but they
rapidly change, and become quite dark. The woods are noisy with
their whirring, but we do not
V expect any damage from them.
Indeed, some old farmers de-
clare that locusts do not injure.
the trees upon which they take
refuge, beyond killing a few
S twigs; and it is a common
S' saying that, after a locust year,
S' l we have next year an un-
Susually large apple crop, and
S, other fruit-trees seem to profit
Sby the visit.
11', i.. s v IsI wish I could draw the
'i _- -. \ locusts in their various posi-
Stions. i- ... ... i.
as, in -i-.... .- .r ..
They certainly would fall a.
prey to the birds if they should
Some out in the day-time.
Those that we saw. had been brought into the house by my brother
in the afternoon, and we looked at them during the evening, holding
a candle near them, that we might see all the changes. I can't
resist sending you this rough drawing, that you may see how straight
out from its case the locust was for a while. The part marked A is.
the wing as it first appeared.-Yours truly, H. M. D.







THE LETTER-BOX.


THE LETTER-BOX.


Yung Cho, North China, April 4, 1877.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We live in China, fifteen miles from
Peking. One of our aunties sends us the ST. NICHOLAS. We think
it is splendid, and mamma says she does not know how she amused
us before it came. We read it every evening. I have just read
Susie's letter of July, '74. Will you tell her the Chinese are very
nice. I have some very dear friends among them. I shall be very
sorry to leave them when I go to America to go to school.
I can use chop-sticks very well. I am eleven years old, my sister
Abbie is nine, my brother Eddie seven, my sister May is five, and
my little brother Tedie is one year old. My oldest brother and
youngest sister have gone to live with Jesus.
Abbie, Eddie and May wish to join the army of Bird-defenders.
We will not let our cats catch birds; we took away five from them
last summer. We feed a large flock of sparrows every day; they
have staid with us all winter. The poor Chinese women think it a
waste, but mamma says we are taught lessons of trust by the way
they come every day for their food.
I send you a picture which one of my friends gave me. The
Chinese put them up at New Year to make their homes bright.
We study with mamma every forenoon, and in the afternoon study
a little Chinese. I send you a little book which I am learning to read.
I help teach the little girls who come to Sunday-school.
I can ride a horse, and have ridden to Peking on a donkey many
times.
I went to America when I was four years old. I hope when I go
next time I shall see you.-Your loving little friend.
LULU E. CHAPIN.

We thank Lulu for her pleasant letter, and the Chinese paper and
book. We wish all our young readers could see this Chinese
"Reader" from which Lulu studies, and we shall be glad when she
can send us a translation of one of its pages.



A LETTER FROM PROFESSOR PROCTOR ON THE
SEA-SERPENT.

DEAR MRS. DODGE: I see in your "Letter-Box" a paragraph
about the sea-serpent, inserted at the request of one of your young cor-
... ,-, The paragraph does not quite correctly represent what
S... I :.. but that does not much matter. I think it may interest
your readers, however, to jot down a few facts, some of which are not
commonly known, I believe, while others are commonly overlooked
or forgotten. In passing let me remark that the circumstances men-
tioned in the paragraph were quoted from an essay by Dr. Andrew
Wilson, the well-known Scottish naturalist.
1. A great number of foolish stories have been told about the sea-
serpent by anonymous hoaxers, so that-
2. Persons of known name are apt to be ashamed, rather than
otherwise, to describe any sea-creature (or appearance) which they
supposed to be the sea-serpent. Yet-
3. In 1817, eleven Massachusetts witnesses of good repute gave
evidence on oath before magistrates (one of whom corroborated the
evidence from his own observation) about a serpentine sea-creature
se-....r, l.r .. 1.... .:.. :.. iome cases within a few yards.
It .. .-.i 1 -. .. .. described by the officers of the
"Dmdalus."
4. In 1833 five British officers record a similar experience.
5. In 1848 the captain of a British frigate sent to the Admiralty an
official description of such a creature, seen (by himself and his officers)
-: ..i:. I his ship, close by, so that he "could have recognized
.. : ...-. of a human person at the distance "with the naked
eye."
6. Captain Harrington and his officers saw such a creature in 1858
under such circumstances that he says: I could no more be deceived
than (as a seaman) I could mistake a porpoise for a whale."
7. The story last related, marvelous though it is (rejected by
myself on that account, when first received, as a probable hoax), has
been deposed to on oath by all who were on board the "Pauline" at
the time. The captain of the "Pauline" writes to me that, instead
of being anxious to tell the story, he, and his officers and crew, were
in twenty minds to keep it to themselves, knowing that they would
be exposed to ridicule, and worse.
8. It is certain that creatures of the kind--i. e., not sea-serpents,
which few believe in, but sea-saurians-were formerly numerous.
(See Lyell's Students' Geology,"-Lias, Plesiosazrus Dolicho-
deirus.)
9. Of other creatures, numerous at the same time, occasional living
specimens are still found. (See Lyeil-Lias Chimcera.)
o1. Agassiz ("Zoilogist," p. 2395) states that it would be in pre-
cise conformity with analogy that such an animal as the Enaliosaurus


(which, see Professor Winchell's Sketches of Creation," p. 178,
would precisely resemble the sea-sepent as described) should exist
still in the American seas.
ii. Of several existent sea creatures only very few specimens have
ever been seen (in some cases only one).
With these, and many like facts before us, we may believe that the
above-mentioned observers were deceived, and doubt whether any
Enaliosaurs continue to exist. But there is no scientific reason for
denying the possibility of their existing, and being occasionally seen.
The foolish stories told by hoaxers have no bearing on the case one
way or the other; at least, they should have no bearing with those
who can reason aright. Yours truly,
RICHARD A. PROCTOR.

Indianapolis, Indiana, June 4, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Speaking of a sentence containing a num-
ber of that's as a that sentence," as "Stanley did, I send you one
that excels Lida B. Graves's.
John said i-i that "that," that that "that" that that
"that senten -.. .... I was a conjunction. Thus I put eight
"that's" together.-Yours truly, ALBERT PORTER.


Washington, D. C., 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a boy only thirteen years of age, and
live in Washington, D. C., right across the street from the Capitol
Park. The day that Governor Hayes was inaugurated there were at
least I,ooo,ooo people over to the Capitol to see him. It was a glori-
ous sight to see the great building all decorated with flags and to see
the people there. During the day, the procession passing along in
front of the ':i -.., left Governor Hayes at the Capitol. They went
down Capit I i-i ..i ifter his speech to take him down to the White
House. When he was going to the White House I was in a great
crowd, and I managed to get clear up in the front; when the crowd
pressed, so as to get a peep at him, they pushed me right up to him
so close that the hack he was in ran over my toes almost. In the
night-time they had a torch-light procession which was a great deal
over a mile long,-say, about one mile and three-quarters long,-and
about six men across. It was the most glorious sight I ever witnessed.
I guess that a lot of the readers of the ST. NICHOLAS would have
liked to see it.-Very respectfully, WALTER DODGE.


ALICE R.-Your fraud has been discovered in many quarters.
The story was stolen from Mace's Fairy Tales." You will oblige
us by never again sending anything to ST. NICHOLAS, as we cannot
depend upon your honesty.


Philadelphia, January 21, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Can you tell me by whom homeopathic
medicine was invented and when ?-Yours respectfully, A. E.

The system of medicine known as hominopathy came from the
experiments and discoveries of Samuel Christian Frederick Hahne-
mann. It had long been known that certain substances, if adminis-
tered to persons in health, produced certain symptoms of disease, and
many medical men had experimented in the matter long before
Hahnemann was born, so thatit cannot be said that anyone invented
homeopathy. Hahnemann was the first to make thorough examina-
tion of this matter, and the first to publish a full account of the dis-
coveries that led to the system of medicine called the homeopathic
treatment. Hahnemann was born in Meissen, Saxony, April to,
X755, and died in Paris July 2, 1843. His first publications on
homceopathy were issued in 1796.


THE following are the answers to the French riddles sent by Julia
H. George, and printed in our last "Letter-Box:"

First: Mon premier estle premier de son esphce; mon second est le
seul de son espece, et mon tout est ce que je ne veux pas vous dire.
(Adieu.)
Second: Mon premier est un animal domestique; mon second est
ce que les dames n'aiment pas decouvrir en elles-memes, et mon tout
est une union. (Mariage.)
Third: Pourquoi l'Imperatrice a-t-elle quitt6 Paris avec un den-
tiste? (A cause de ses dents,-Sddanz.)


[AUGUST,


700








THE LETTER-BOX.


Carondelet (or South St. Louis), Mo.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My brother has a young setter-he is a
Gordon setter. He will bring me a stick, haul ----- or sled, hold
apiece of bread or meat on his nose until we .I I ..... to take it, or
when we count five, and then he will catch it in his mouth. He will
jump over a stick, through a hoop, and play hide-and-seek with us.
He goes down the street every evening to get my brother's lunch-
basket, and brings it into the house; and he bi ings in the paper every
morning. We also have two cats and five chickens. My cousin and
1 play Indians; we have wooden guns,. I tomahawks,
and we have bags for blankets; we pai..' iI ... each have a
chamois leather cap with fur, feathers, and beads on; we also have
bows and arrows. We dug a hole in the ground about two feet deep
and built a house over it. We cook eggs, onions, potatoes, batter-
cakes, and meat in it. We made buckets out of tin cans, and put
wire handles in them ; we made a gridiron out of wire, and plates out
of the bottoms of tin cans. May be some other fellows and their sisters
would like to know about it.-Yours truly, P. D. NOEL.

The Ridge, Dover Plains, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I send you a picture of a horse and a scare-
crow which I have drawn witF m-- ren from memory of what I saw
last summer. I suppose city i... -. hardly know what a scare-crow
is. I will tell them. It is old clothes stuffed with straw or hay to
resemble a man, and stuck upon a stick in a corn-field to keep the
crows away from the corn when searching for grubs.
One day last summer I saw one of our horses go through open bars
into our corn-field to examine a scare-crow. You know a horse when
he sees anything strange will walk slowly toward it, going nearer and


- i













THE HORSE AND THE SCARE-CROW. (DRAWN BY

nearer, putting out his head to smell it, and when he is satisfied
walk away. Our horse did so, and I have tried to draw the scene
with my pen for the readers of ST. NICHOLAs. Excuse all imperfec-
tions. I am a little girl not yet twelve years of age.-Your young
correspondent, H. M. R. L.
Compton, i877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAs: We have taken you for some time, and we
are always glad to see you. I think it is nicer to make butter in a
bottle than in one of those little toy churns. I have made it several
times, and I do not think it takes an hour to churn it. I will tell you
how to do it. Put some cream (it is not necessary that it should be
sour) into a bottle with a large :. -.. ... afterr tightly corking it,
shake well until the butter come i .. i. not too large a bottle,
and do not make too hard work of it, it is not so very tiresome. You
must shake it until the butter is pretty well gathered together, and
after washingit, etc., as B. H. W. describes in the April number of
ST. NicHOLAs, I think you will have some nice butter. I am thirteen
years old.-Your friend, LiLy M. COCHRANE.

Cincinnati, 1877.
DEAR ST. NIChOuLAs: Has the new language reached you yet?
I mean the one that is used only by the boys and girls. I have met very
few "grown-ups" who attempt to speak it at all; but it is astonish-
ing how quickly the younger people take it up. Below I w il give a
sample or two of the new "lingo." By analyzing the specimens you
IeathontatIsseonybthbosadil.1hvee er
fe grw-ps h atmt osea tatal bti is soih


can readily get at its principle of construction. Instead of Will say-
ing: "Jack, give me a bite of your apple," as Wills sometimes do,
he now says: "( .1 ; t :maaitebaofooryaoopplea," "Broad-
way" is "Oodw; '. course every new language must have
its poetry, and this one has shown its poetic side. The following
verse 1 know you will admit is quite touching:
OOKJA AND ILLJA.
Ookja and Illja went oopwa the illha
To etga a ailpa of ooterwa,
Ookja fell ownda and ookebra his ooncra,
And Illja came umblingta artera."

Mark Twain says the Italians spell a great deal better than they
pronounce. Unlike the Italians these, these-" Ookja's" and "Ill-
ja's" pronounce a great deal better than they spell.
The only rule I ca.. .. you for pronouncing the words in this
new jargon is to give ..... A a prolonged ah sound, like the A in
after. In fact, the language seems to be made up of "oo's" and
"ah's." Now that the boys have a secret language. I suppose secret
meetings will be in order; and, dear me, I don't know what will
come next. What with their initials, slang, and now this new rig-
marole, why their own fathers and mothers cannot talk to them if it
keeps on. J. B. D.

Brooklyn, 1877.
DrAR ST. NICuOLtS : Will you please tell the Little Schoolnia'am
as I was I h-rin Ihe cemetery at Riverhead last summer, I
came acro ''.. -I history written on a tombstone, which I
copied, thinking it might interest her:
SCAPT. JAMES FANNING,
Died 0776, in the 98th year of his age.
c 'He was the great-grandson of Dom-
inicius Fanning, who was mayor of a city
in Ireland (under Charles I) ; was taken
prisoner at the br-ft- f pTr h. -l, 1649;
S.^,. ,. I all the garrison, e I r ....-i, 1 f ,i to the
sword. He was beheaded by Cromwell;
his head stuck upon a pole at the principal
S n gateofthecity; his property confiscated,
S because when Charles I. made proclama-
tion of peace, as member of the Irish
Council, he advised not to accept unless
ii the British Government would secure to
i the Irish their religion, their property, and
S i -_ their lives.'--O' Conner's History.
S"His son, Edmund, was born in Kil-
Skenny, Ireland, married Catherine, daugh-
ter of Hugh Hays, Earl of Connaught,
and emigrated to this country with his
family. .--,-tr7 of his wife Catherine,
two sons i I... and William, and two
servants, Lahorne and Orma. Settled in
-i ,Stonington, Ct. Wi~liam, in a battle with
the Indians, was killed by King William,
who split his head open with a tomahawk.
Thomas had a daughter, Catherine Page,
and one son, James; this Capt. James Fan-
ning served under Great Britain, which
government was at war with France;
married Hannah Smith, of Smithtown;
had five sons and four daughters, viz.,
H. I. R. L.) Phincas,homamas,Gilbert,Edmnd, James,
Catherine, Bertha, Sally and Nancy.
Phineas had a son, Phineas, whb _. J .. I .r "" 1. C 1.e, 1768,
two of whose sons are now livir. ... ........ in
New York City, and P. W. Fa ....: ... I.1.. .- .. ? lis
wife Hannah, son Thomas, and .... I .'.... I...d beside
their father. Gilbert settled in ... .: became
Lieutenant-Governor of Nova Scotia, where he held '-'e -Late.
James settled on Long Island, had two sons, John and J ..... the
latter was a merchant of y : .. .' of Riverhead,
had five sons, four of shc ... ._ 1 r, James, died
at Moriches in his seventy-second year, I48. Nathaniel resides in
town of South Hampton; two-Manasseh and Israel-reside in
Riverhead town, and the fifth son, Joshua Fanning, physician in
Greenport 'i i.... ..;. .. ; i -.tain Josiah
Lupton, C .. .... .... i :.... I .. ... Te nry, and
Nancy marnic i Ti .. .i tiam."
Now, dear I ..,i. i .. isn't that a long inscription for a
tombstone ? It is said by the old folks of the town that Edmund
Fanning brought over the first summer pear-tree that ever was in this
country, and that he '- .-hr i-t -*- in a wash-tub. The tree is now
living and bears fruit.- "..- I ... GUSSIE C. DE VI.NxE.

Schenectady, March 12, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write you a letter, and
tell you about a paper we have in school. I go to a private school
with about five other children. And I thought that perhaps some of






THE LETTER-BOX.


your readers who go to a private school, or whose mothers teach
them, might like to do the same thing. Our teacher told us (my
school-mates and myself) that she was going to have a paper, and we
were to write for it. The next morning she told us to vote for an
editor and a name. The name chosen was "The Shooting Star."
Our best poet is a little girl ten years old.
My teacher says that the object of the paper is to make us improve
in wilting, spelling, and punctuation. I forgot to say that the editor
writes the compositions with pen and ink. The scholars write notes
with their compositions to the editor. The editor reads the notes,
and looks over the compositions, and if they are written nicely, and
she thinks they are good, she (excusing a few misspelt words) accepts
them. I am afraid I have written too long a letter to be printed, but
hope not. I will now close.-Your faithful reader, CLYDE FITCH.
P. S.-I hope and think that Jacob will marry Florie. I have
taken you for about four years from our news-agent here. CLYDE.

Newark, N.J.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : Our pussy was buried yesterday. We
were sorry she died, but we did n't cry.-Your little reader, ROB
P.S.-I forgot to say that I am eight years old. The pussy's name
was St. Nicholas, after you. She was gray, with a white tail.
ROB.

Camillus, Onondaga Co., N. Y., Feb. 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read a great many letters from the
little folks in your good magazine, and in the March number I saw one
from a little girl in Maryland, with a picture of her play-house, and
as I have a play-house of my own, I thought I would write another
letter to you telling about it, and perhaps my papa would send it for
me. My play-house is in the front yard of our place, and is five feet
wide, eight feet long, and six feet high. It is divided into two rooms
by curtains, it is all papered and carpeted, and has a large door with
a porch over it, and two windows in it. My grandpa built it for me.





_- .. .-.
-- ,,i "


.



MYRA'S PLAY-HOUSE. (FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.)

I have such splendid times in it during the summer. This is the
third year I have taken ST. NICHOLAS. I like it ever so much. The
stories are very nice, especially the Eight Cousins" and Pattikin's
House." I will be nine years old in March. I go to school every
day and like it very much. I send you a photograph of my play-
house, which you may use if you think it is nice enough to put in the
magazine.
From your little friend and well-wisher. MYRA E. SAFFORD.

H. STARKWEATHER'S PROBLEM.-Since our July number went to
press, the following boys and gils have been heard from in regard to
Starkweather's problem : "H," Mary H. Buckingham, A. L. Mani-
erre; "B," "John and others" send correct solutions. M. T. F.
sends a very confused and unsatisfactory "explanation," and Mary


G. is quite at sea in the matter, as she will discover by noting the
solution given in our June number. Mary A. Buckingham's com-
munication is worth printing in full:
Newton, Mass., May 30, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I think I have found a solution which will
satisfy H. Starkweather concerning the problem in algebra which he
sent to the June Letter-Box." I give it below:

Now 49 63 = 14, and 4 18 = 14, then 49
63 =4 IS, or 49 9(7) 9 (2), adding _' to
each member of the equation, we have 49 9 (7) + Y
=4- 9 (2) + .
The square root of 49 -9 (7) + 1 = (7 -.
The square root of4 9 (2) -- = -L (2 2).
We must take either the positive roots of both mem-
bers, or the negative roots of both members.
Now 7 = 7 4) = 2'-, which is a positive quan-
tity. Therefore, 7 ? is the positive root of 49 9 (7)
+ 4. 2 = 2 4 = 2 v, which is a negative
quantity. Therefore, 2 ( is the negative root of 4 -
9 (2) + -'-. If 2 3 is the negative root, the positive
root must be 2. Then the equation reads: 7 -
= 2, or 2 = 2-, which is correct.
Yours respectfully, MARY H. BUCKINGHAM (aged 15 years).


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In your Christmas number I saw a letter
about a doll which was one hundred and forty-three years old. I
understood that it was supposed to be the oldest in America. We
have one that is one hundred and fifty-eightb -.er- r-:r -
and is consequently fifteen years older. t... I
is wooden. Time has thought fit to deprive it of its arms
I and legs, but its owner kindly substituted cloth ones.
The last time it was dressed was about forty years aeo.
It wears a black silk petticoat, black satin dress, white
kerchief, and carries in one hand a large blue silk hand-
S. kerchief dotted with white. Its painted wooden head is
covered by a muslin turban. Her complexion is sallow,
il. ... 1 she still has considerable color in her cheeks.
H .. are large, black, and bulging; her nose is worn
v:-. i flat and shiny. Altogether, she is so handsome that her
S one compliment is, "She looks like a mummy This
little old lady is a model, for she is as straight as though
glued to aboard. When placed beside her waxen grand-
children we fail to discover any family resemblance. It
came formerly from Paris. If she could speak, what
would she tell? Perhaps she could give the true version
of George and his little hatchet.-Yours truly,
ROSA B. DICKINsoN.

New York, May 15, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little sick girl, and you
S are such a pleasure to me, I read you over and over
S again. I am making "Christmas City."* It has a hotel
called the Katydid House, after myself, and a church
called the church of St. Mucilage, a butcher's shop, a
candy store, a grocer's store, and a dry-goods store, pri-
S vate houses, and other buildings, and a paper railway
train made by myself. No two houses are alike. I send
S you some names for the Bird-defenders. When are
you going to have another list? My sister, who is in
I Halifax, takes you, too, and we both like you so much.
i And now I must say good-bye, from your constant reader,
I"I KATY UNIACKE.
P. S.-Give my love to Jack and the Little Schoolma'am.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Here is a tea-song sung by a
Chinese woman to Queen Victoria and copied frrn
paper. See if any of your readers can translate it. ". I .
papers and books. As there are three of us, we can't all read the same
thing at once very well, and it is better to read to ourselves. We agree
to let each one read a certain paper first. I get to read you first,
though my two brothers like you very much indeed. I want to sur-
prise my brothers with this letter if you will be so kind as to print it.
Ohe ometo th ete asho pwit hme
Andb uya po undo f thebe st
Twillpr oveam ostex cellentt ea
Itsqua lit yal Iwi Ila tte st
Tiso nlyf oursh illi ngs apo und
Soc omet othet eama rtan dtry
Nob etterc and sewh erebefou nd
Ort hata nyoth er needb uy.
MAMIE C. RAINEY.


* See ST. NICHOLAS for May, 1874.


[AUGUST,








1877.] THE RIDDLE-BOX. 703




THE RIDDLE-BOX.


PICTORIAL PUZZLE.


The central picture represents the main word, from the letters of which the words represented by the other pictures are to be formed.


DOUBLE DIAMOND PUZZLE.
THE whole is the name of a very popular author.
Upper diamond: i. A consonant 2. A personal pronoun. 3. A
part of a plant. 4. A boy's name. A girl's name. 6. A word
often used by Scotchmen. 7. A consonant.
Lower diamond: i. A consonant. 2. A deep hole. 3. Used in
medicine. 4. A writer. 5. To step. 6. A conjunction. 7. A con-
sonant. O'B.
SYNCOPATIONS.
I. SYNCOPATE a float, and leave a small animal. 2. Syncopate
chilliness, and leave a fish. 3. Syncopate a metal, and leave con-
ducted. 4. Syncopate a book, and leave a part of the foot. 5. Syn-
copate to call, and leave a boy's nickname. 6. Syncopate solitary,
and leave a tropical plant. 7. Syncopate a boat, and leave naked.
8. Syncopate a plank, and leave a poet.
The syncopated letters, read downward, give the name of a long-
legged bird of the Tropics. PLUTO.

EASY CHARADE.
My first of the garden smacks;
My second of woodland whacks.
Sturdy and true are these two
Homely, old-fashioned facts.
And my whole would appear
To be sincere,
But is not, for truth it lacks. M. O'B. D.

SQUARE-WORD.
t 2. A PLACE of exhibition. 2. A memorial. 3. Older. 4. A rcla-
tve. 5. Measures of land. JACKIE D. w.


PYRAMID PUZZLE.
LEFT slope, downward : A flower. Right slope, downward: Fruits
of a certain kind Center: An instrument used for boring. Across:
r. A consonant: 2, a constellation ; 3, a simple person; 4, a kind of
triangle; 5. animals one year old. B.

RIDDLE.
I a word of four letters, no more and no less,
And what that word is I leave you to guess.
Wherever my first and second you see,
It will surely embrace you, as it always does me.
My first, second, and third, though it well may apply
To the smallest of things that appear to your eye,
Yet, curiously enough, it is so compounded
That with my first and second it might be confounded.
that what pictures an object so small
., be big enough to embrace us all.
On hearing my whole, you might think it was meant
To be spoken of one whose vigor is spent;
But while vi'7r sustains us, and life is our stay,
My whole .11 keep coming and passing away. L. C. A.

HIDDEN FRENCH SENTENCE.
FIND in the following sentences an apt remark made by Napoleon
to a French lady in time of great political danger:
Nervous people like Maud, Eve, Zoo and Harriet out-weary me,
and prevent my paying them any devoirs; they are enough to utterly
waken ten dreamers of matrimonial felicity, and cause them, beset
with fear, to utter words of contempt. How old Baron Stoub (lier in
wait, like Foote, for oddities to mimic) would hit off their pecul-
iarities i B.







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


PICTORIAL ANAGRAIM-ENIGMIA.


rri
!t


-: I
- -. . '-- -'.. a

- "'."- ,. ,,'r^7 *- -' -".


;.; .,':' ^^ft
I l I * ,9-= ',
'.. ...,
_v _ _ - .,y -_ --.


Ais. A proverb of five words. Each of the figures underneath the pictures represents a letter in the word indicated I1- 1'- t.
(thus, 5 denotes a letter in the fifth word, 2 a letter in the second word, etc.),-and each collection of figures represents a word' i.
the picture above it. From the seven words thus formed, select and group together all those belonging to the same word of the proverb
(according to the nmlnr:n_" beneath the pictures). Then transpose these letters to form the word of the proverb indicated by the figmuc
which the letters i. i 1.. from the seven words, group together all the letters designated by the figure 3 beneath the different pictures,
and transpose them to form the third word of the proverb.) Now, puzzle-solvers, find this familiar proverb 1

TRANSPOSITIONS. MVETAGRAM.
I. ALL started- but- -- to the end of the race long before WHOLE, I am a poison. -...- ... 1.. 1 1 ..... grass;
the rest -. P. The was poorly rhymed, and yet it was again, and I am a native of .. : .,1 i 'I... again,
not -- -- 3He stood for a-, ---- dismay. 4. Before and I am a girl's name; a ., .. r i .... .i ...,ndI
I engaged in this business comparatively an life. 5. am found on horses and lions; again, and I am of glass; again, ad
Why is it abroad, as soon as a good deed ? 6. How I am not mad; again, and I show which way the wind blows; once
much do you get, girls, for a weekly-- ? -- B. more, and I decrease. SEDGWICK.





ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JULY NUMBER.


PICTORIAL PUZZLE.--. FT-- 2. Horse-tail. 3. "The Hub."
4. Nave, or Knave. 5. : :* (Felloe). 6. "Right wheel." 7.
Tale. 8. A shaft 9. "Boots." ao. Choler. i. Box. 12. Pause
(paws). 13. Rains. 14. Tire. 15. Spoke. 16. Mouse-ear. 17. One
hogshead. 18. Lash. 19. Chops. o2. Ho!
NUMERICAL ENIGnMA.-" Be just, and fear not."
DIAMOND PUZZLE. F
ARE
AGENT
F R E E D'O 1
ENDOW
T 0 W'
ABBREVIATIONs.-- Canto, ant. 2. Crumb, rum. 3. Crape, rap.
4. Court, our. 5. Clown, low. 6. Shame, ham. 7. Stripe, trip. 8.
Tramp, ram. 9. Swine, win. o1. Stare, tar. s. Flour, Lou. Is.
Ledger, edge.


PREFIX PUZZLE.--. Concur. 2. Condor. 3. Confirm. 4. Con-
sole. 5. Contract. 6. Contrite. 7. Conveige. 8. Content. 9. Concsl.
EASY RIDDLE.- Carpet.
HIDDEN FRENCH PROVERB.-." Les murailles ont des oreilles."
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.- L -ea- D
I -ag- O
T -ho- R
T -ige- R
L --ev- I
E--agle-T
CHARADE.-Morning Glory.
OMNIBUS WoRD.-Spear.
I.-Sap, Are, Pea.
II -Asp, Sea, Par.
III.-S, Ape, Spear, Ear, R.
IV.-Spar, Raps.
V.-Pear, Pare, Reap, Sear, Spare, Rase, Parse, Era, Par, Rasp.


Bessie and her Cousin," Jackie D. W., and M. W. C." answered correctly ALL the puzzles in the June number.
ANSWERS To SPECIAL PUZZLES were received previous to June i8th from Bessie White T. .i :.. J.-. Bumpy," Laura Randolph,
Jennie Platt, F. E. Buliard, Emma Elliott, "Daisic," Mile," Genevieve Allis, Nellie Emr i '. i.. Brainard P. Emery,
Gertrude Vickery, Jessie L. IT 1,.. TI lie M. Stanger, Daisy Hobbs, Alice Boott. "Bessie, T ,-1 Sus 1.. !'. Rowley, S. S. and
A. S.," "A. H.," Eddie: I. Duffield, Constance Grandpierre, R. Townsend s .... .., Edith McKecver, "Bob White,"
Zenobia Porter, George H. Williams, Willie E. Wright, Mary L. Howard, Al ie Bertram, Bessie Dorsey, Florence Wilcox, Elsie L. Shaw,
Adele Mills, Inez and Cadmir, Rdne L. Millnau, Jennie Page, A. P. Folwell, Annie S. : .... ....r C. Smith, Lilla Stone,
C S. Rich6, Jr., L. Ford, Henry C. Lee, H. V. Wurdcmann, Nessie E Stevens, "Alex.," i I ..... i_....i Howard Steel Rodgers,
Philip Cheaney, B. O'Hara, Bessie R. Virom, Alice G. Bull, Louisa L. Richards, W. Creighton Spencer, W. Irving Spencer, Scudder
Smith, A. G. Cameron, Hugh T. C'.-*-- C'. l,- LIrIbert White, Louise M. Corbett, Perry Adams, Milly Adams, Hariet A. Clark, Alfred
Koehler, Katie Earl, Edith Lowry, ... " H


[AUGUST.




::i
";--;- li;r
3