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 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 The shepherd boy
 The ravens and the angels
 A trip to the tea country
 Treasure-trove
 Under the lilacs
 Crumbs from older reading
 The old man and the nervous...
 The raid of the Camanches
 Solimin: A ship of the desert
 Belinda Blonde - The London...
 Huckleberry
 How Sir William Phips found the...
 Some fishing-birds of Florida
 Nan's peace-offering
 The tower-mountain
 Gifts for St. Nicholas
 Some in-door games at marbles
 Tommy's three horses
 The chickens that would not be...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


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UF00065513_00057
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UF00065513_00057
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5/4/2007 1:55:20 PM -


St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 4
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00057
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 4
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: UF00065513:00057

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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    The shepherd boy
        Page 241
    The ravens and the angels
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
    A trip to the tea country
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
    Treasure-trove
        Page 253
        Page 254
    Under the lilacs
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
    Crumbs from older reading
        Page 262
        Page 263
    The old man and the nervous cow
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
    The raid of the Camanches
        Page 267
        Page 268
    Solimin: A ship of the desert
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
    Belinda Blonde - The London dust-man
        Page 272
        Page 273
    Huckleberry
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
    How Sir William Phips found the treasure in the sea
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
    Some fishing-birds of Florida
        Page 282
        Page 283
    Nan's peace-offering
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
    The tower-mountain
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
    Gifts for St. Nicholas
        Page 294
    Some in-door games at marbles
        Page 295
    Tommy's three horses
        Page 296
    The chickens that would not be tame
        Page 297
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 298
        Page 299
    The letter-box
        Page 300
        Page 301
    The riddle-box
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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ST. NICHOLAS.


FEBRUARY, 1878.


[Copyright, I878, by Scribner & Co.]





THE SHEPHERD-BOY.

BY EMIILY S. OAKEY.


LITTLE ROY led his sheep down to pasture,
And his cows, by the side of the brook;
But his cows never drank any water,
And his sheep never needed a crook.

For the pasture was gay as a garden,
And it glowed with a flowery red;
But the meadows had never a grass-blade,
And the brooklet-it slept in its bed;

And it lay without sparkle or murmur,
Nor reflected the blue of the skies.
But the music was made by the shepherd,
And the sparkle was all in his eyes.

Oh, he sang like a bird in the summer !
And, if sometimes you fancied a bleat,
That, too, was the voice of the shepherd,
And not of the lambs at his feet.

And the glossy brown cows were so gentle
That they moved at the touch of his hand
O'er the wonderful rosy-red meadow,
And they stood at his word of command.


So he led all his sheep to the pasture,
And his cows, by the side of the brook;
Though it rained, yet the rain never patter'd
O'er the beautiful way that they took.

And it was n't in Fairy-land either,
But a house in a commonplace town,
Where Roy as he looked from the window
Saw the silvery drops trickle down.

For his pasture was only a table,
With its cover so flowery fair,
And his brooklet was just a green ribbon
That his sister had lost fiom her hair.

And his cows they were glossy horse-chestnuts,
That had grown on his grandfather's tree;
And his sheep they were snowy-white pebbles
He had brought from the shore by the sea.

And at length, when the shepherd was weary,
And had taken his milk and his bread,
And his mother had kissed hin and tucked him,
And had bid him good-night" in his bed,


Then there enter'd his big brother Walter,
While the shepherd was soundly asleep,
And he cut up the cows into baskets,
And to jack-stones turned all of the sheep.


VOL. V.-I7.


VOL. V.


No. 4.






THE RAVENS AND THE ANGELS.


THE RAVENS AND THE ANGELS.
(A Story of the Middle Ages.)

BY THE AUTHOR OF CHRONICLES OF THE SCHONBERG-COTTA FAMILY."


CHAPTER III.
HE next day, Gottlieb began
his training among the other
choristers.
It was not easy.
The choir-master showed
his appreciation of his raw
treasure by straining every
nerve to make it as perfect
as possible ; and therefore he found more fault with
Gottlieb than with any one else.
The other boys might, he could not but observe,
sing carelessly enough, so that the general har-
mony was pretty good; but every note of his
seemed as if it were a solo which the master's ear
never missed, and not the slightest mistake was
allowed to pass.
The other choristers understood very well what
this meant, and some of them were not a little
jealous of the new favorite, as they called him.
But to little Gottlieb it seemed hard and strange.
He was always straining to do his very best, and
yet he never seemed to satisfy. The better he did,
the better the master wanted him to do, until he
grew almost hopeless.
He would not, for the world, complain to his
mother; but on the third evening she observed
that he looked very sad and weary, and seemed
scarcely to have spirits to play with Lenichen.
She knew it is of little use to ask little children
what ails them, because so often their trouble is
that they do not know. Some little delicate string
within is jarred, and they know nothing of it, and
think the whole world is out of tune. So she
quietly put Lenichen to bed, and after the boy had
said his prayers as usual at her knee, she laid her
hand on his head, and caressingly stroked his fair
curls, and then she lifted up his face to hers and
kissed the little troubled brow and quivering lips.
Dear little golden mouth she said, fondly,
" that earns bread, and sleep, for the little sister
and for me I heard the sweet notes to-day, and
I thanked God. And I felt as if the dear father
was hearing them too, even through the songs in
heaven."
The child's heart was opened, the quivering lips
broke into a sob, and the face was hidden on her
knee.
It will not be for long, mother he said.
" The master has found fault with me more than


ever to-day. He made me sing passage after pas-
sage over and over, until some of the boys were
quite angry, and said, afterward, they wished I and
my voice were with the old hermit who houses us.
Yet he never seemed pleased. He did not even
say it was any better."
But he never gave you up, darling !" she said.
"No; he only told me to come early, alone,
to-morrow, and he would give me a lesson by my-
self, and perhaps I should learn better."
A twinkle of joy danced in her eyes, dimmed
with so many tears.
Silly child she said, fondly, "as silly as thy
poor mother herself! The master only takes
trouble, and chastens and rebukes, because he
thinks it is worth while, because thou art trying
and learning, and art doing a little better day by
day. He knows what thy best can be, and will
never be content with anything but thy very best."
Is it that, mother? Is it indeed that ?" said
the boy, looking up with a sudden dawning of
hope.
And a sweet dawn of promise met him in his
mother's eyes as she answered:
It is even that, my own, for thee and for me !"

CHAPTER IV.
WITH a glad heart, Gottlieb dressed the next
morning before Lenichen was awake, and was off
to the choir-master for his lesson alone.
The new hope had inspired him, and he sang
that morning to the content even of the master, as
he knew, not by his praise, but by his summoning
Ursula from the kitchen to listen, unable to resist
his desire for the sympathy of a larger audience.
Ursula was not exactly musical, nor was she
demonstrative, but she showed her satisfaction by
appropriating her share of the success.
"I knew what was wanting she said, signifi-
cantly. The birds and the blessed angels may
sing on crumbs or on the waters of Paradise ; but
goose and pudding are a great help to the alleluias
here below."
The archduchess will be enraptured, and the
Cistercians will be furious said the choir-master,
equally pleased at both prospects.
But this Gottlieb did not hear, for he had availed
himself of the first free moment to run home and
tell his mother how things had improved.
After that, Gottlieb had no more trouble about


[FEBRUARY,







THE RAVENS AND THE ANGELS.


the master. The old man's severity became com-
prehensible and dear to him, and a loving liberty
and confidence came into his bearing toward him,
which went to the heart of the childless old man,
so that dearer than the praise of the archduchess,
or even the discomfiture of the Cistercians, became
to him the success and welfare of the child.
But then, unknown to himself, the poor boy
entered on a new chapter of temptations.
The other boys, observing the choir-master's
love for him, grew jealous, and called him some-
times the master's little angel," and sometimes
the little beggar of the hermitage" or Dwarf
Hans' darling."
He was too brave and manly a little fellow to tell
his mother all these little annoyances. He would
not for the world have spoiled her joy in her little
"Chrysostom," her golden-mouthed laddie. But
once they followed him to her door, and she heard
them herself. The rude words smote her to the
heart, but she only said :
Thou art not ashamed of the hermit's house,
nor of being old Hans' darling? "
I hope, never !" said the child, with a little
hesitation. God sent him to us, and I love him.
But it would be nice if dear Hans sometimes washed
his face "
Magdalis smiled, and hit on a plan for bringing
this about. With some difficulty she persuaded
the old man to take his dinner every Sunday and
holiday with them, and she always set an ewer of
water-and a towel, relic of her old burgher life-
by him, before the meal.
We were a kind of Pharisees in our home,"
she said, "and except we washed our hands, never
ate bread."
Hans growled a little, but he took the hint, for
her sake and the boy's, and ,.1 .I. 11. found the
practice so pleasant on its own account, that the
washing of his hands and face became a daily
process.
On his patron saint's day (St. John, February 8),
Mother Magdalis went a step further, and presented
him with a clean suit of clothes, very humble but
neat and sound, of her own making out of old
hoards. Not for holidays only, she said, but that
he might change his clothes every day, after work,
as her Berthold used.
Dainty, burgher ways," Hans called them, but
he submitted, and Gottlieb was greatly comforted,
and thought his old friend a long way advanced in
his transformation into an angel.
So, between the sweetness of the boy's temper
and of his dear mother's love which folded him
close, the bitter was turned into sweet within
him.


with indignation, was not so wise in her consola-
tions.
Wicked, envious little devils !" said she.
Never thou heed them, my lamb They would
be glad enough, any of them, to be the master's
angel, or Dwarf Hans' darling, for that matter, if
they could. It is nothing but mean envy and
spite, my little prince, my little wonder; never
thou heed them "
And then the enemy crept unperceived into the
child's heart.
Was he indeed a little prince and a wonder, on
his platform of gifts and goodness ? And were all
those naughty boys far below him, in another
sphere, hating him as the little devils in the
mystery-plays seemed to hate and torment the
saints ?
Had the "raven been sent to him, after all, as
to the prophet of old, not only because he was
hungry and pitied by God, but because he was
good and a favorite of God ?
It seemed clear he was something quite out of
the common. He seemed the favorite of every one,
except those few envious, wicked boys.
The great ladies of the city entreated for him to
come and sing at their feasts; and all their guests
stopped in the midst of their eager talk to listen to
him, and they gave him sweetmeats and praised
him to the skies, and they offered him wine from
their silver flagons, and when he refused it, as his
mother bade him, they praised him more than
ever, and once the host himself, the burgomaster,
emptied the silver flagon of the wine he had re-
fused, and told him to take it home to his mother
and tell her she had a child whose dutifulness was
worth more than all the silver in the city.
But when he Lold his mother this, instead of
looking delighted, as he expected, she looked
grave, and almost severe, and said:
You only did your duty, my boy. It would
have been a sin and a shame to do otherwise.
And, of course, you would not for the world."
"Certainly I would not, mother," he said.
But he felt a little chilled. Did his mother think
it was always so easy for boys to do their duty?
and that every one did it ?
Other people seemed to think it a very uncom-
mon and noble thing to do one's duty. And what,
indeed, could the blessed saints do more ?
So the slow poison of praise crept into the boy's
heart. And while he thought his life was being
filled with light, unknown to him the shadows were
deepening,-the one shadow which eclipses the
sun, the terrible shadow of self.
For he could not but be conscious how, even in
the cathedral, a kind of hush and silence fell around


But Ursula, who heard the mocking of the boys when he began to sing.


243






THE RAVENS AND THE ANGELS.


And instead of the blessed presence of God fill-
ing the holy place, and his singing in it, as of old,
like a happy little bird in the sunshine, his own
sweet voice seemed to fill the place, rising and fall-
ing like a tide up and down the aisles, leaping to
the vaulted roof like a fountain of joy, and drop-
ping into the hearts of the multitude like dew from
heaven.
And as he went out, in his little white robe, with
the choir, he felt the eyes of the people on him,
and he heard a murmur of praise, and now and
then words such as That is little Gottlieb, the
son of the widow Magdaiis. She may well be
proud of him. He has the voice and the face of
an angel."
And then, in contrast, outside in the street, from
the other boys: See how puffed up the little
prince is He cannot look at any one lower than
the bishop or the burgomaster "
So, between the chorus of praise and the other
chorus of mockery, it was no wonder that poor
Gottlieb felt like a being far removed from the
common herd. And, necessarily, any one of the
flock of Christ who feels that, cannot be happy,
because if we are far away from the common flock,
we cannot be near the Good Shepherd, who always
keeps close to the feeblest, and seeks those that go
astray.

CHAPTER V.
IT was not long before the watchful eye of the
mother observed a little change creeping over the
boy-a little more impatience with Lenichen, a little
more variableness of temper, sometimes dancing
exultingly home as if he were scarcely treading the
common earth, sometimes returning with a depres-
sion which made the simple work and pleasures of
the home seem dull and wearisome.
So it went on until the joyful Easter-tide was
drawing near. On Palm Sunday there was to be
a procession of the children.
As the mother was smoothing out the golden
locks which fell like sunbeams on the white vest-
ments, she said : It is a bright day for thee and
me, my son. I shall feel as if we were all in the
dear old Jerusalem itself, and my darling had
gathered his palms on Olivet itself, and the very
eyes of the blessed Lord himself were on thee, and
His cars listening to thee crying out thy hosannas,
and His dear voice speaking of thee and through
thee, Suffer the little children to come unto me.' "
But Gottlieb looked grave and rather troubled.
"So few seem thinking just of His listening," he
said, doubtfully. There are the choir-master and
the dean and chapter, and the other choristers,
and the Cistercians, and the mothers of the other
choristers, who wish them to sing best."


She took his hand. So there were in that old
Jerusalem," she said. The Pharisees, who wanted
to stop the children's singing, and even the dear
Disciples, who often thought they might be trouble-
some to the Master. But the little ones sang for
Him, and He knew, and was pleased. And that
is all we have to think of now."
He kissed her, and went away with a lightened
brow.
Many of the neighbors came in that afternoon
to congratulate Magdalis on her boy-his face, his
voice, his gentle ways.
"And then he sings with such feeling," said
one. One sees it is in his heart."
But in the evening Gottlieb came home very sad
and desponding. For sime time he said nothing,
and then, with a brave effort to restrain his tears,
he murmured:
Oh, mother I am afraid it will soon be over.
I heard one of the priests say he thought they had
a new chorister at the Cistercians whose voice is as
good as mine. So that the archduchess may not
like our choir best, after all."
The mother said nothing for a moment, and then
she said:
Whose praise and love will the boy at the
Cistercian convent sing, Gottlieb, if he has such a
lovely voice ? "
God's !-the dear Heavenly Father and the
Savior I he said, reverently.
'" And you, my own ? Will another little voice
on earth prevent His hearing you ? Do the thou-
sands of thousands always singing to Him above
prevent His hearing you ? And what would the
world do if the only voice worth listening to were
thine ? It cannot be heard beyond one church, or
one street. And the good Lord has ten thousand
churches, and cities full of people who want to
hear."
But thou, mother Thou and Lenichen, and
the bread "
It was the raven that brought the bread," she
said, smiling; "and thou art not even a raven,-
only a little child to pick up the bread the raven
brought."
He sat silent a few minutes, and then the terrible
cloud of self and pride dropped off from his heart
like a death-shroud, and he threw himself into her
arms.
"Oh, mother, I see it all!" he said. "I am
free again. I have only to sing to the blessed Lord
of all, quite sure He listens, to Him alone, and to
all else as just a little one of the all He loves."
And after the evening meal, and a game with
Lenichen, the boy crept out to the cathedral to
say his prayers in one of the little chapels, and to
thank God.


244


[FEBRUARY,






TIE RAVENS AND THE ANGELS.


He knelt in the Lady chapel before the image of
the infant Christ on the mother's knees.
And as he knelt there, it came into his heart
that all the next week was Passion week, the still
week," and would be silent; and the tears filled his
eyes to remember how little he had enjoyed sing-
ing that day.
How glad the little children of Jerusalem must
have been," he thought, that they sang to Jesus
when they could. I suppose they never could


quite loud, and from a dark corner in the shadow
of a pillar suddenly arose a very old man in a
black monk's robe, with snow-white hair, and
drew close to him, and laid his hand on his shoul-
der and said:
Fear not, my son. I have a message for thee."
At first, Gottlieb was much frightened, and then,
when he heard the kind, tremulous old voice, and
saw the lovely, tender smile on the wrinkled, pallid
old face, he thought God must really have sent him


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again; for the next Friday He was dead. Oh,
suppose He never let me sing to Him again "
And tears and repressed sobs came fast at the
thought, and he murmured aloud, thinking no one
was near:
Dear Savior, only let me sing once more here
in church to you, and I will think of no one but
you; not of the boys who laugh at me, nor the
people who praise me, nor the Cistercians, nor the
archduchess, nor even the dear choir-master, but
only of you, of you, and perhaps of mother and Len-
ichen. I could not help that, and you would not
mind it. You and they love me so much more than
any one, and I love you really so much more than all
besides. Only believe it, and try me once more."
As he finished, in his earnestness, the child spoke


an angel at last, though certainly not because he
was good.
Look around on these lofty arches, and clus-
tered columns, and the long aisles, and the shrines
of saints, and the carved wreaths of flowers and
fruits, and the glorious altar Are these wonder-
ful to thee? Couldst thou have thought of them,
or built them ? "
I could as easily have made the stars, or the
forests said the child.
Then look at me," the old man said, with a
gentle smile on his venerable face, a poor worn-
out old man, whom no one knows. This beautiful
house was in my heart before a stone of it was
reared. God put it in my heart. I planned it all.
I remember this place a heap of poor cottages as


"'LOOK AT IME, TIIE OLD MAN SAID."


,







THE RAVENS AND TIE ANGELS.


small as thine, and now it is a glorious house of
God. And I was what, they called the master-
builder. Yet no man knows me, or says, Look
at him !' They look at the cathedral, God's house;
and that makes me glad in my inmost soul. I
prayed that I might be nothing, and all the glory
be His; and He has granted my prayer. And I
am as little and as free in this house which I built
as in His own forests, or under His own stars; for
it is His only, as they are His. And I am nothing
but His own little child, as thou art. And He
has my hand and thine in His, and will not let
us go."
The child looked up, nearly certain now that
it must be an angel. To have lived longer than
the cathedral seemed like living when the morn-
ing stars were made, and all the angels shouted
for joy.
Then God will let me sing here next Easter !"
he said, looking confidingly in the old man's face.
"Thou shalt sing, and I shall see, and I shall
hear thee, but thou wilt not hear or see me said
the old man, taking both the dimpled hands in one
of his. "And the blessed Lord will listen, as to
the little children in Jerusalem of old. And we
shall be His dear, happy children for evermore."
Gottlieb went home and told his mother. And
they both agreed, that if not an angel, the old man
was as good as an angel, and was certainly a mes-
senger of God.
To have been the master-builder of the cathedral
of which it was Magdalis's glory and pride that her
husband had carved a few of the stones !
The master-builder of the cathedral, yet finding
his joy and glory in being a little child of God !

CHAPTER AVI.
THE "silent week" that followed was a solemn
time to the mother and the boy.
Every day, whatever time could be spared from
the practice with the choir, and from helping in the
little house and with his mother's wood-carving, or
from playing with Lenichen in the fields, Gottlieb
spent in the silent cathedral, draped as it was in
funereal black for the sacred life given up to God
for man.
How glad," he thought again and again, the
little children of Jerusalem must have been that
they sang when they could to the blessed Jesus !
They little knew how soon the kind hands that
blessed them would be stretched on the cross, and
the kind voice that would not let their singing be
stopped would be moaning 'I thirst.' "
But he felt that he, Gottlieb, ought to have
known; and if ever he was allowed to sing his
hosannas in the choir again, it would feel like the
face of the blessed Lord himself smiling on him,


and His voice saying, Suffer this little one to
come unto me. I have forgiven him."
He hoped also to see the master-builder again;
but nevermore did the slight, aged form appear in
the sunshine of the stained windows, or in the
shadows of the arches he had planned.
And so the still Passion week wore on.
Until once more the joy-bells pealed out on the
blessed Easter morning.
The city was full of festivals. The rich were in
their richest holiday raiment, and few of the poor
were so poor as not to have some sign of festivity
in their humble dress and on their frugal tables.
Mother Magdalis was surprised by finding at
her bedside a new dress such as befitted a good
burgher's daughter, sent secretly the night before
from Ursula by Hans and Gottlieb, with a pair of
enchanting new crimson shoes for little Lenichen,
which all but over-balanced the little maiden with
the new sense of possessing something .which must
be a wonder and a delight to all beholders.
The archduke and the beautiful Italian arch-
duchess had arrived the night before, and were to
go in stately procession to the cathedral. And
Gottlieb was to sing in the choir, and afterward,
on the Monday, to sing an Easter greeting for the
archduchess at the banquet in the great town-hall.
The mother's heart trembled with some anxiety
for the child.
But the boy's was only trembling with the great
longing to be allowed to sing once more his hosan-
nas to the blessed Savior, among the children.
It was given him.
At first the eager voice trembled for joy, in the
verse he had to sing alone, and the choir-master's
brows were knitted with anxiety. But it cleared
and steadied in a moment, and soared with a full-
ness and freedom none had ever heard in it before,
filling the arches of the cathedral and the hearts
of all.
And the beautiful archduchess bent over to see
the child, and her soft, dark eyes were fixed on his
face, as he sang, until they filled with tears; and,
afterward, she asked who the mother of that little
angel was.
But the child's eyes were fixed on nothing earthly,
and his heart was listening for another voice-the
voice all who listen for shall surely hear.
And it said in the heart of the child, that day:
" Suffer the little one to come unto me. Go in
peace. Thy sins are forgiven."
A happy, sacred evening they spent that Easter
in the hermit's cell, the mother and the two chil-
dren, the boy singing his best for the little nest, as
before for the King of kings.
Still, a little anxiety lingered in the mother's
heart about the pomp of the next day.


[FEBRUARY,






THE RAVENS AND TI1E ANGELS.


But she need not have feared.
When the archduchess had asked for the mother
of the little chorister with the heavenly voice, the
choir-master had told her what touched her much
about the widowed Magdalis and her two children;
and old Ursula and the master between them con-
trived that Mother Magdalis should be at the ban-
quet, hidden behind the tapestry.
And when Gottlieb came close to the great lady,
robed in white, with blue feathery wings, to repre-
sent a little angel, and sang her the Easter greet-
ing, she bent down and folded him in her arms,
and kissed him.
And then once more she asked for his mother,
and, to Gottlieb's surprise and her own, the mother
was led forward, and knelt before the archduchess.
Then the beautiful lady beamed on the mother
and the child, and, taking a chain and jewel from
her neck, she clasped it round the boy's neck, and
said, in musical German with a foreign accent:
"Remember, this is not so much a gift as a
token and sign that I will not forget thee and thy
mother, and that I look to see thee and hear thee
again, and to be thy friend."
And as she smiled on him, the whole banqueting-
hall-indeed, the whole world-seemed illuminated
to the child.
And he said to his mother as they went home:
Mother, surely God has sent us an angel at
last. But, even for the angels, we will never forget
His dear ravens. Wont old Hans be glad ?"
And the mother was glad; for she knew that
God who giveth grace to the lowly had indeed
blessed the lad, because all his gifts and honors
were transformed, as always in the lowly heart, not
into pride, but into love.
But when the boy ran eagerly to find old Hans,
to show him the jewel and tell him of the princely
promises, Hans was nowhere to be found; not in


the hermit's house, where he was to have met them
and shared their little festive meal, nor at his own
stall, nor in the hut in which he slept.
Gottlieb's heart began to sink.
Never had his dear old friend failed to share in
any joy of theirs before.
At length, as he was lingering about the old
man's little hut, wondering, a sad, silent company
came bearing slowly and tenderly a heavy burden,
which at last they laid on Hans' poor straw pallet.
It was poor Hans himself, bruised and crushed
and wounded in his struggles to press through the
crowd to see his darling, his poor crooked limbs
broken and unable to move any more.
But the face was untouched, and when they had
laid him on the couch, and the languid eyes opened
and rested on the beloved face of the child bending
over him bathed in tears, a light came over the
poor rugged features, and shone in the dark,
hollow eyes, such as nothing on earth can give-a
wonderful light of great, unutterable love, as they
gazed into the eyes of the child, and then, looking
upward, seemed to open on a vision none else
could see.
Jesus Savior I can do no more. Take care
of him, thou thyself, Jesus, Lord "
He said no more-no prayer for himself, only for
the child.
Then the eyes grew dim, the head sank back,
and with one sigh he breathed his soul away to
God.
And such an awe came over the boy that he
ceased to weep.
He could only follow the happy soul up to God,
and say voicelessly in his heart:
Dear Lord Jesus I understand at last! The
raven was the angel. And Thou hast let me see
him for one moment as he is, as he is now with
Thee, as he will be evermore "






248


SWAS leaning over the tea-room
table on one of the lovely
/ 7 spring mornings that we
sometimes have in China.
In front of me the large
Window, like that in an art-
ist's studio, admitted the
north light upon the long
i array of little porcelain tea-
.c a cups and saucers, and mus-
'. ters," or square, flat boxes
Y '""l of tea-samples. The last
S.-- 1 new "chop" had been care-
Sfully tasted and the leaf in-
1.- s- spected, and I was won-
dering whether the price
--asked by the tea-man would
show a profit over the latest quotations from Lon-
don and New York, when my speculations were
disturbed by the entrance of my friend Charley,
followed by Akong, well known as the most influ-
ential tea-broker in the Oopack province. Charley
and Akong were fast friends, and I saw by the
twinkle in the eyes of each that a premeditated
plot of some kind was about being exploded upon
my unsuspecting self.
But before going further, let me tell you who we
all are, where we are, and what we are doing.
Of course I am aware that it is exceedingly im-
polite to put oneself first, but in the present
instance you must excuse it; for besides being the
oldest, I occupy the position of guide, philosopher
and friend to Charley, and my story would scarcely
be intelligible or complete if I did not begin with
myself. Well, to begin: I am one of those unfort-
unate individuals known in China as cha-szes,"
or tea-tasters; doomed for my sins, or the hope of
one day getting rich, to pass the time in smelling,
tasting and buying teas for the great mercantile
house or Hongg" of Young Hyson & Co. The
place at which you find me. is Hankow, on the
great Yang Tsze Kiang, or river, some six hundred
miles from its mouth. If you have a map of China,
and will find on it the Yang Tsze, by tracing with
your finger-if your map is at all correct-you will
discover the cities of Chin -....., Nanking, Ngan-
king, Kin Kiang, and finally, at the junction of the
river Han with the Yang Tsze, Wuchang. Han-
kow will probably not be on your map, but on the
north bank of the Yang Tsze, just at the point of
junction with the Han, is this important trading


port, thrown open to foreigners in 1861, after the
signing of the treaty of Tein-Tsin.
And now for Charley, whom I have kept talking
pigeon-English to Akong all this time. Charley
was the son of an old friend, chaplain to the British
consulate at one of the coast ports; his mother
dying, Charley was to have been sent home to rela-
tives in England, but I had prevailed upon his
father to let the boy, now between twelve and four-
teen years old, make me a visit before his final
departure.
And now for the conspiracy :
Chin-chin (how do you do), Akong ?" said I.
"What is it, Charley? Out with it, my boy;
some mischief, I know." Akong gave a chuckle
and a muttered hi-yah," and Charley proceeded
to explain.
Well Cha,"-the Chinamen called me Cha-
tsze and the boy had abbreviated it to Cha,-
Akong says that he has a boat going up to the
tea country to-morrow or next day, and wants me
to go with him; may I?"
Charley knew that I could refuse him nothing,
but the trip of several hundred miles into a district
rarely, if ever, visited by foreigners, involved more






T
;>5-
-7-


TIl IlARlBE I.
of a risk than I cared to assume. Charley seeing
that I looked unusually solemn, turned to Akong
for support.
What for you no go too, Cha-tsze ? Just now


A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.



A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.

BY WILLIAM M. TILESTON.


[FEBRUARY,






A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.


my thinkee no got new chop come inside two
week; get back plenty time."
Akong's pigeon-English perhaps requires expla-
nation: You must know, then, that the Chinese
with whom all foreigners transact business, instead
of learning correct English have a lingo, or fatois,
of their own, ascribed, but I think erroneously, to
the carelessness of their first English visitors, who
addressed them in this manner, thinking to make
themselves more easily understood. The fact is,
that pigeon-English, besides having many Portu-
guese words mixed up with it,-the Portu-
guese, you know, were established in China .
as early as the seventeenth century,-is in
many instances a literal translation of Chi-
nese into perverted English. In the present
instance, Akong suggested that as there .
would be no more tea down for a fortnight,
it would be well for me, too, to go. The
proposition was quite agreeable to me, and i__ .
Charley scampered off to tell Ahim, the Ij'
cook, and Aho, my boy, to make the neces- '
sary preparations.
The next morning, at an early hour,
Akong's great mandarin, or house-boat,
was moored at the jetty, and the boys were
packing away the provisions and the char-
coal for cooking, and long strings of copper
"cash" to be used in the purchase of eggs
and chickens, and the mats of rice that would form
the principal article of chow-chow for the crew.
Everybody in China has a boy, and Charley had
his; a regular young imp of a fellow of about his
own age. Aling was his name; Charley used to
call him Ting-a-ling, and would jabber horrible
Chinese to him by the hour. Aling jumped
down the steps, two at a time, with Charley's trav-
eling bag; but Aho, more sedate and dignified,
marched after him; Charley and I joined Akong
in the front of the boat, and with a chorus of "chin-
chins" from the coolies and house-servants left
behind, and the explosion of a pack of fire-crackers
to propitiate the river dragon, the boat was shoved
from the jetty, the sail hoisted, and we were soon
slowly stemming the broad current of the Yang
Tsze. On our right was Hankow, with its million
or more inhabitants, the hum of the great city fol-
lowing us for miles; and the mouth of the Han, its
surface so covered with junks that their masts re-
sembled a forest, and only a narrow lane of water
was left for the passage of boats. Just beyond the
Han was Han Yang, once a fine city, but now in
ruins, one of the results of the Tac-ping rebellion.
Across the Yang Tsze, here a mile wide, was
Wuchang, the residence of the viceroy of the
Hupeh province. This place was supposed to be
closed to foreigners, but Charley and I had made


many a secret visit, and had some rare sport among
the curiosity shops, with occasionally an adventure
of a less pleasing description, about which I should
like to tell you if I had time.
Rapidly we passed the suburbs of these cities,
and drawing over to the south bank, as the wind
was light, the crew were ordered ashore, and
stretching themselves along a tow-rope extending
from the mast-head, the boat was soon mov-
ing quite rapidly. And that reminds me that I
have not yet described our boat. These boats,



-- ..- -- -- --~1 -




1111 I .
E
6 .. r -
,.j


THE TEA HONG.
used by the gentry in transporting themselves
about the country, are almost like Noah's ark on a
small scale-a boat with a house running almost
the entire length of the deck, with little latticed
windows on the outside, and the interior divided
into rooms for eating and sleeping. The crew all
lived aft on the great overhanging stern, where the
cooking was done, and where the handle of the
great "yuloe," or sculling oar, protruded. In
front of the cabin was a little piece of deck-room
where Charley and I had our camp-stools, and
which gave us an excellent place from which to
observe everything going on ahead.
The boat coolies were straining on the tow-rope
a hundred yards ahead. Frequently we passed
some fisherman sitting in his little mat hut, with
his feet on the windlass that raised his great square
net; but never did we see them catch a fish,
although on our return the same men were working
as assiduously as ever. The country presented the
same compact system of farming, the hills in many
places being terraced to their very summits, and
planted with waving crops of wheat and millet,
beans, and vegetables of every description. Toward
noon we passed the Ta" and Lao Kin Shan"
(great and little golden mountain), and by the
time Aling had announced "tiffin" (luncheon),
we were abreast of Kin Kow, a picturesque village


249







A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.


in the neighborhood of which I generally found
some excellent shooting. After tiffin we again
resumed our camp-stools. I lighted a cigar, and
Akong smoked his hubble-bubble, a small copy
of the nargileh of the Turks. The river was alive
with junks, some going in the same direction as
ourselves, and others loaded with tea, charcoal,
vegetable tallow, oil of various kinds, and gypsum,
brought, most of them, from the far western
province of Sze Chuen.
There was but little variety in the journey until
the following day, when we approached the great
bend in the Yang Tsze, and Akong told us that, if
so inclined, we could land from the boat, and by
walking six or eight miles across the country join
the boat again, the bend rendering it necessary
for her to go around some thirty or forty miles.
This we gladly assented to, and taking my gun,
in hopes of meeting with some snipe in the paddy-
fields, and with Aling and a coolie for interpreters,
we landed.
Charley and I both experienced a rather queer
sensation as we watched the boat sail off, and found
ourselves with no other white man within a hundred
or more miles. The country ahead was one im-
mense rice-field, divided by dykes or banks paved
with stones and forming paths for walking. At
some distance we saw a large clump of bamboos
with tall elms beyond, indicating a village, called,
as a coolie at work in a ditch informed us,
Fi-Loong. Soon we saw a broad creek with
a handsome stone bridge over it, and on the
other side an unusually large house of two i;
stories, which turned out to belong to the .
Te-poy, or local magistrate of the place.
The old gentleman himself was sitting out- '
side of the house having his head shaved by
the village barber. He politely invited us ---
to wait, and after the shaving was over re-
galed us with a cup of tea,-rather weak,
but refreshing,-and after chin-chin-ing we
resumed our journey.
Can you see our party trudging along?
Beyond the village were more paddy-fields,
from which occasionally a great white paddy- .
bird arose. I shot one of them, to the
great delight of our coolie, who pronounced it
No. I good chow-chow; but Charley and I were
much more pleased at the sight of several English
snipe. Reaching an old lotus-pond, a shot scared
up these birds almost in myriads, and a good
bunch of them promised a very welcome addition
to our dinner. Meanwhile we had been follow-
ing a creek, which we now needed to cross. But
before long Aling espied a man in the distance
at work with a huge buffalo, and exclaiming,
"Hi-yah belly good walkee now," rushed off in


that direction. He soon returned with the buffalo
and his owner, and indicated that we could cross on
the back of the former. The huge, ungainly beast
threw up his head and snorted when he caught
sight of the fanquis," or foreign devils, but a
pull at the ring through his nose soon brought
him to subjection.
How much does he want, Aling, to carry us
over ?"
He say ten cash can do."
As this sum (one cent) was not an unreasonable
ferriage, we nodded; and the buffalo being led
into the water near the bank, I mounted first,
then came Charley with his arms around me, then
Aling, who had climbed up behind. When we
were half-way over, Charley laughed so heartily at
the ridiculous figure we made that the buffalo gave
another snort, and threatened to roll us off, into the
muddy water, but we landed safely, and giving the
man his ten cash, went on again. The rest of the
walk was without adventure, and we finally arrived
at the river-bank just as the boat was coming
around the point below us.
That evening we left the main river and tracked
up a tributary stream until we came to a broad
canal, which Akong informed us led direct to our
destination.
Turning out of our beds the next morning we
found the boat moored to the bank of the canal,


-.. .-- -, A

', ..


SORTING THE TEA.
opposite a long, rambling, one-storied building,
which proved to be the Hongg" of the tea-mer-
chant to whom the neighboring plantations be-
longed. We were really in the tea country at last.
On every side of us, as far as the eye could reach,
the dark-green tea-plants were growing in their
beds of reddish sandy soil. Notwithstanding the
cook's urgent appeals to wait until chow-chow was
ready, we jumped ashore and into the midst of a
crowd of noisy coolies moving in every direction,
each with his load slung at the ends of a bamboo


[FEBRUARY,


250






A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.


across his shoulders, and singing a monotonous
"Aho, Aho, Aho!" which appears as necessary
to the Chinese carrier as the "Yo heave ho!" to
the sailor. Long, narrow junks were lying at the
bank, and being rapidly loaded with the
familiar tea-chests; crowds of men, women
and children were coming from the planta-
tion, each with bags of the freshly picked
leaves, or with baskets on their heads in which
the more delicate kinds were carefully car- -
ried. We stepped into the building, and
there witnessed the entire operation of assort-
ing, firing the teas, and even the manufact-
uring of the chests. We would gladly have
remained, but Aho came up and informed us
that breakfast hab got spoilem," so we de-
ferred further investigation until after the -
meal.
Akong joined us at breakfast, and partook '"
of our cirry and rice with great gusto, for
tea-brokers as a rule are by no means averse
to foreign chow-chow, and handle a knife and fork
with almost as much ease as they do the native
chop-sticks. Charley plied us both with questions
regarding tea in general, and probably the follow-
ing summary will pretty well represent the result
of his queries :
The cultivation of the tea-plant is by no means
confined to any one district or spot, but is scattered
about through the different provinces, each produc-
ing its peculiar description known to the trade by its
distinctive name. We were now in the Hupeh or
Oopack country, and the tea we saw being gathered
and prepared was the heavy-liquored black-leafed
description, known in England and to the trade as
Congou. This Congou forms the staple of the
mixture known in that country under the generic
name of "black," and sometimes finds its way to
us under the guise of English breakfast tea."
From Foo-chow-foo, on the coast, half-way between
Shanghae and Hong Kong, is shipped another
description known as red-leaf Congou, the bulk of
which goes to England also, although we are grad-
ually absorbing an increasing quantity. Kiu Kiang,
on the Yang Tsze, some one hundred and forty
miles below Hankow, shares with the latter port in
the trade of the Hupeh country, and is, or was
until recently, the point of shipment for the fine
green teas grown and manufactured in the Moyune
district, a very large proportion of which is shipped
to this country. First in importance as a point of
shipment is Foo-chow-foo, whence are exported, in
addition to the red-leafed Congous, or Boheas, the
bulk of the Oolongs. Still further down the coast
is Amoy, from which point inferior descriptions of
both kinds are shipped, together with some scented
teas; but the bulk of the latter, known as Scented


Capers, Orange Pekoe, etc., are exported from
Canton and Macao. These, together with a pecu-
liar description of green, are manufactured at these
ports from leaf grown in the neighborhood. Al-


HOEING AND WATERING THE PLANTS.
though no tea is grown near Shanghae, much of
the Congou grown in the Hupeh province is sent
there for sale, and thence shipped to England.
The green teas from both the Moyune and Ping-
Suey countries are also shipped from Shanghae.
Breakfast over, we jumped ashore again, and,
desiring to conduct our sight-seeing systematically,
started for the fields. First we walked to the foot
of a hill a little distance off, where some men in
short cotton trousers and jackets were laying out
a new plantation. The ground was accurately
marked off, and in one place the little plants, only
an inch or two in height, were just showing above
the ground. In another, the seeds-little round
balls they looked like-were being planted in the
rows. Passing another field, where some men were
at work with their hoes in true Chinese style, stop-
ping every few moments to smoke their pipes, we
came at last to where the plants had attained some
size and the actual picking was going on. The
plants themselves were from two to six feet high,
according to age, and from repeated cuttings down
had grown into dense masses of small twigs. Many
of them were covered with little white flowers,
somewhat similar to the jasmine, and seeds inclosed
in a casing not unlike that of the hazel-nut, but
thinner and full of oil. Charley thought they
looked like little laurel bushes; to me, those that
had been well picked were not unlike huckleberry
bushes, only the leaves were, of course, a much
darker green. The first picking, usually in April,
is when the leaves are very young and tender, com-
manding a much higher price than those subse-
quently plucked. The second is a month later,
when they have attained maturity; and as unpro-
pitious weather would be likely to ruin them, great


x878.]







A TRIP TO THE TEA COUNTRY.


expedition is used in getting in the crop, the entire for exportation are rolled over by hand before being
population turning out to assist. A third, and even fired. The great object appears to be to prevent
a fourth, follows; but the quality rapidly deterio- the leaf from breaking; hence, in the commoner


-s -. _ _
-irI




'I41k 2.'F


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


DRYING THE TEA.
rates, and but a small proportion of these last pick-
ings is prepared for export.
The plantations were filled with a merry crowd,
composed principally of women and children, all
engaged in stripping the bushes as rapidly as pos-
sible, yet with great care and dexterity, so as not to
bruise the leaves. They looked up from their work
and screamed to each other in their harsh guttural
tones, casting glances of astonishment at the bar-
barians. Following some of the coolies, who with
filled bags were trudging off to the curing-house,
we saw the most interesting operation of all. Here,
at least thirty young girls were engaged in assorting
the leaves, picking out all the dead and yellow
ones, and preparing them for the hands of the
rollers and firers. Our entrance excited quite a
commotion among the damsels, as we were prob-
ably the first barbarians they had seen, and we had
the reputation of living entirely on fat babies. A
word from Akong, who had joined us, re-assured
them, and in a few minutes Charley was airing his
little stock of Chinese, more, I thought, to their
amusement than their edification. Leaving this
room we went into another where the curing was
in progress. On one side extended a long furnace
built of bricks, with large iron pans placed at equal
distances, and heated by charcoal fires below. Into
these pans leaves by the basketful were poured,
stirred rapidly for a few minutes, and then removed
to large bamboo frames, where they were rolled
and kneaded until all the green juice was freed.
They were then scattered loosely in large, flat bas-
kets, and placed in the sun to dry. Subsequently,
the leaves were again carried to the furnaces and
exposed to a gentle heat, until they curled and
twisted themselves into the shapes so familiar to
you all. Some of the finer kinds often prepared


kinds and those intended for home con-
sumption, which do not receive the same
care, the leaves are found to be very much
broken.. In fact, the preparation of this
latter sort is very simple: a mere drying in
the sun, after which it presents a dry, broken
appearance, like autumn leaves.
Green tea, although grown in particular
districts, receives its peculiar color by being
stirred with a mixture of gypsum and
Prussian blue during the firing, but is pre-
pared in a more laborious manner, the
leaves being selected and divided to form
the different kinds known as Imperial, Gun-
powder, Young Hyson, Hyson, Hyson Skin
and Twankay. An aggregation of these
kinds, proportioned according to their value,
what is known as a chop," whereas a chop
ack tea comprises all of one grade or quality.
amen wonder at the taste of "outside bar-
ns in preferring a tea colored green, but would
de them with a leaf of yellow or blue if there
market for it.
e entire operation pertaining to the business
ared to be carried on in the cluster of little


; V.
Rv-;


ONE OF THE SING-SONG GIRLS.
buildings with court-yards between, but almost
under the same roof, and afforded occupation to an
immense number ofpelsons. And yet the payments


-


[FEBRUARY,







TREASURE-TROVE.


could not have been very large; from six to ten
cents per day being about the wages they received.
In one room men were engaged in making boxes;
in another, lining them with thin sheets of lead.
Further on, the outsides of the boxes were being
pasted over with paper, on which was stamped the
name of the tea and the maker's business-title.
Finally, they were being filled, soldered up and
carried off to the boats, not to be opened again
until they reached the shop of some London grocer.
The principal object of our friend Akong's visit
was to convoy with his mandarin-boat a fleet of tea-
junks to Hankow ; so that but one day was given
us for our visit. The boats being nearly ready, it
was arranged that we should start on our return the
following morning. The evening was devoted to
a dinner and "sing-song" given for our entertain-
ment by the tea-men. Aho asked if he should
take our knives and forks, a proposition which we
indignantly rejected. As it was to be a Chinese
dinner, we determined to do it in Chinese style,
chop-sticks and all. Such a dinner! We were
seated at little square tables holding four persons
each, the Chinamen all dressed in their official or
state costumes. First came little dishes of sweet-
meats and then bowls of bird's-nest soup, with the
jelly-like substance floating about in it in company


with little pieces of chicken. This was very nice,
although we did all eat out of the same bowl, using
little porcelain spoons. Then came more sweet-
meats, followed by dishes of biche de imer, or sea-
slugs and fat pork; this we passed, but not until
an over-polite Chinaman took up a gristly piece of
something with his chop-sticks, and, after biting off
a piece, passed the rest to Charley. The chop-sticks
we could not manage ; the meat would slip out of
them, and had it not been for the soups, of which
there were several, and the rice, which we could
shovel into our mouths, we should have had no
dinner. Tea was passed by the servants continu-
ally, as were little bowls of'" samshu "-a liquor dis-
tilled from rice. During the dinner, the sing-song
girls played on the native two-stringed fiddles, and
sang in falsetto voices a selection of music, which
was undoubtedly very fine if judged by the Chinese
standard, but which we could not appreciate.
The noise soon became almost intolerable, and
we slipped off to the boat and sought our beds.
When we awoke in the morning the whole fleet
of tea-boats was under way, and with a fair wind
we ran rapidly down the creek and were once more
on the broad Yang Tsze. On the third day we
reached Hankow safely, and well pleased with our
trip to the tea country.


TREASURE-TROVE.

BY OLIVE A. WADSWORTH.

A DILIGENT Biddy was scratching one day,
And pecking at morsels that came in her way,
When all of a sudden she widened her eyes,
And the feathers stood up on her head with surprise i

A strange-looking treasure Dame Biddy had found,
'Twixt a brick and a clam-shell it lay on the ground;
The hen with a peck turned it over and over,
But the longer she looked the less could discover.

" Cluck, cluck!" said the hen, '"as sure as I stand,
This never was grown upon solid dry land;
I '11 take it along to Dame Duck and her daughter,
They're 'wise about things that come out of the water."

So she carried the thing in her beak to the brook,
And called to Dame Duck to come quickly and look,
And the dame and her child relinquished their pleasure,
And waddled ashore to examine the treasure.







TREASURE-TROVE.


"Alack! said the duck and "A-quack !" said the daughter,
" We've never seen objects like this in the water !
Suppose we submit it to old Mrs. Ewe ?
She 's wise about wool, and has seen the world, too 1 "

So the duck took it carefully up in her bill,
And the duckling and hen followed on to the mill,
Where the miller's fat sheep was placidly grazing,
And there they displayed this treasure amazing.

" Ah, bah said the sheep, what a queer-looking piece !
This never was parcel or part of a fleece !
Our flock would disown it !-but take it, I pray,
To Brindle, the cow, she's wise about hay! "

So the sheep and the duckling, the duck and the hen,
With the treasure set forth in procession again,
To where the cow stood,-in the shade, as she ought,-
A-chewing her cud and a-thinking her thought.

Bless my horns said the cow, I really must say,
I've ne'er seen the like in straw or in hay!
Why don't you ask Dobbin, the farmer's gray mare?
She's traveled so much, and she's wise about hair."

So the hen and the ducks, the sheep and the cow,
Went seeking for Dobbin, just loosed from the plow;
They all talked at once, to make things explicit,
And finally showed her the cause of their visit.

But Dobbin gave snorts of dislike and dismay;
Why don't you," said she, pass it on to old Tray?
He hunts for his food where the refuse is thrown,
And ihe's wise about cinders, and rubbish, and bone."

So Dobbin and Brindle, and fat Mrs. Ewe,
And the duckling and duck, and the Biddy-hen too,
All eager for knowledge, went down the wide road
To the kennel where Tray had his pleasant abode.

Now Tray was a dog with a gift for detecting,
He never would bark without briefly reflecting;
He snuffed at the treasure and turned it about,
And soon would have uttered his sentence, no doubt,-

But just then our Tommy ran up to the crowd.
Where did you get those, sir ?" he cried out aloud.
They 're my new Sunday gloves They fell out of my hat !
I took them to school to show them to Matt !

And, you see, Matt and I had some liquorice candy,
Our fingers were sticky, the gloves were just handy;
And then, when the teacher said, Tom, wash your slate,'
My sponge was all lost, and the class could n't wait.


[FEBRUARY,







UNDER THE LILACS.


" And 'cause I was hurrying, what do you think?
That bothersome ink-bottle slopped out the ink !
You can't expect gloves to look nobby and new
When they have to be used for a slate and ink too.

" Now, that's reasons enough said poor Tommy, I guess "
And the company bowed a unanimous Yes,"
And the horse, cow and sheep, duck, duckling and hen,
Complacently turned themselves homeward again.









UNDER THE LILACS.

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


CHAPTER VII.
NEW FRIENDS TROT IN.
NEXT day Ben ran off to his work with Quacken-
bos's Elementary History of the United States "
in his pocket, and the Squire's cows had ample
time to breakfast on wayside grass before they were
put into their pasture. Even then the pleasant
lesson was not ended, for Ben had an errand to
town, and all the way he read busily, tumbling
over the hard words, and leaving bits which he did
not understand to be explained at night by Bab.
At The First Settlements he had to stop, for
the school-house was reached and the book must
be returned. The maple-tree closet was easily
found, and a little surprise hidden under the flat
stone ; for Ben paid two sticks of red and white
candy for the privilege of taking books from the
new library.
When recess came great was the rejoicing of the
children over their unexpected treat, for Mrs. Moss
had few pennies to spare for sweets, and, somehow,
this candy tasted particularly nice, bought out of
grateful Ben's solitary dime. The little girls
shared their goodies with their favorite mates, but
said nothing about the new arrangement, fearing it
would be spoilt if generally known. They told their
mother, however, and she gave them leave to lend
their books and encourage Ben to love learning all
they could. She also proposed that they should
drop patch-work and help her make some blue
shirts for Ben. Mrs. Barton had given her the
materials, and she thought it would be an ex-
cellent lesson in needle-work as well as a useful
gift to Ben-who, boy-like, never troubled him-


self as to what he should wear when his one suit
of clothes gave out.
Wednesday afternoon was the sewing time, so
the two little B's worked busily at a pair of shirt
sleeves, sitting on their bench in the door-way,
while the rusty needles creaked in and out, and the
childish voices sung school-songs, with frequent
stoppages for lively chatter.
For a week, Ben worked away bravely, and
never shirked nor complained, although Pat put
many a hard or disagreeable job upon him, and
chores grew more and more distasteful. His only
comfort was the knowledge that Mrs. Moss and the
Squire were satisfied with him, his only pleasure
the lessons he learned while driving the cows, and
recited in the evening when the three children met
under the lilacs to play school."
He had no thought of studying when he began,
and hardly knew that he was doing it as he pored
over the different books he took from the library.
But the little girls tried him with all they possessed,
and he was mortified to find how ignorant he was.
He never owned it in words, but gladly accepted
all the bits of knowledge they offered from their
small store; getting Betty to hear him spell "just
for fun; agreeing to draw Bab all the bears and
tigers she wanted if she would show him how to do
sums on the flags, and often beguiled his lonely
labors by trying to chant the multiplication table
as they did. When Tuesday night came round
the Squire paid him a dollar, said he was a likely
boy," and might stay another week if he chose.
Ben thanked him and thought he would, but the
next morning, after he had put up the bars, he
remained sitting on the top rail to consider his







UNDER THE LILACS.


prospects, for he felt uncommonly reluctant to go
back to the society of rough Pat. Like most boys
he hated work, unless it was of a sort which just
suited him; then he could toil like a beaver and
never tire. His wandering life had given him no
habits of steady industry, and while he was an un-
usually capable lad of his age, he dearly loved to
loaf about and have a good deal of variety and ex-
citement in his life.
Now he saw nothing before him but days of patient
and very uninteresting labor. He was heartily
sick of weeding; even riding Duke before the
cultivator had lost its charms, and a great pile
of wood lay in the Squire's yard which he knew
he would be set to piling up in the shed. Straw-
berry-picking would soon follow the asparagus cul-
tivation, then haying, and so on all the long, bright
summer, without any fun, unless his father came
for him.
On the other hand, he was not obliged to stay a
minute longer unless he liked. With a comfortable
suit of clothes, a dollar in his pocket, and a row of
dinner-baskets hanging in the school-house entry
to supply him with provisions if he did n't mind
stealing them, what was easier than to run away
again ? Tramping has its charms in fair weather,
and Ben had lived like a gypsy under canvas for
years, so he feared nothing, and began to look
down the leafy road with a restless, wistful expres-
sion, as the temptation grew stronger and stronger
every minute.
Sancho seemed to share the longing, for he kept
running off a little way and stopping to frisk and
bark, then rushed back to sit watching his master
with those intelligent eyes of his, which seemed to
say, "Come on, Ben, let us scamper down this
pleasant road and never stop till we are tired."
Swallows darted by, white clouds fled before the
balmy west wind, a squirrel ran along the wall, and
all things seemed to echo the boy's desire to leave
toil behind and roam away as care-free as they.
One thing restrained him,-the thought of his seem-
ing ingratitude to good Mrs. Moss, and the dis-
appointment of the little girls at the loss of their
two new play-fellows. While he paused to think of
this, something happened which kept him from
doing what he would have been sure to regret
afterward.
Horses had always been his best friends, and one
came trotting up to help him now, though he did
not know how much he owed it till long after.
Just in the act of swinging himself over the bars to
take a short cut across the fields, the sound of ap-
proaching hoofs, unaccompanied by the roll of
wheels, caught his ear, and pausing, he watched
eagerly to see who was coming at such a pace.
At the turn of the road, however, the quick trot


stopped, and in a moment a lady on a bay mare
came pacing slowly into sight,-a young and pretty
lady, all in dark blue, with a bunch of dandelions
like yellow stars in her button-hole, and a silver-
handled whip hanging from the pommel of her
saddle, evidently more for ornament than use.
The handsome mare limped a little and shook her
head as if something plagued her, while her mis-
tress leaned down to see what was the matter, say-
ing, as if she expected an answer of some sort:
Now, Chevalita, if you have got a stone in
your foot, I shall have to get off and take it out.
Why don't you look where you step and save me
all this trouble?"
'I 'll look for you, ma'am; I 'd like to !" said
an eager voice so unexpectedly that both horse and
rider started as a boy came down the bank with a
jump.
I wish you would. You need not be afraid;
Lita is as gentle as a lamb," answered the young
lady, smiling, as if amused by the boy's earnest-
ness.
She's a beauty, anyway," muttered Ben, lifting
one foot after another till he found the stone, and
with some trouble got it out.
That was nicely done, and I 'm much obliged.
Can you tell me if that cross-road leads to the
Elms ?" asked the lady, as she went slowly on with
Ben beside her.
No, ma'am; I'm new in these parts, and I
only know where Squire Allen and Mrs. Moss
live."
I want to see both of them, so suppose you
show me the way. I was here long ago, and
thought I should remember how to find the old
house with the elm avenue and the big gate, but I
don't."
"I know it; they call that place the Laylocks
now, 'cause there's a hedge of 'em all down the
path and front wall. It's a real pretty place ; Bab
and Betty play there, and so do I."
Ben could not restrain a chuckle at the recollec-
tion of his first appearance there, and as if his
merriment or his words interested her, the lady
said, pleasantly: Tell me all about it. Are Bab
and Betty your sisters?"
Quite forgetting his intended tramp, Ben plunged
into a copious history of himself and new-made
friends, led on by a kind look, an inquiring word,
and sympathetic smile, till he had told everything.
At the school-house corner he stopped and said,
spreading his arms like a sign-post:
That's the way to the Laylocks, and this is the
way to the Squire's."
As I 'm in a hurry to see the old house, I '11 go
this way first, if you will be kind enough to give my
love to Mrs. Allen, and tell the Squire Miss Celia


256


[FEBRUARY,






UNDER THE LILACS.


is coming to dine with him. I wont say good-by,
because I shall see you again."
With a nod and a smile the young lady cantered
away, and Ben hurried up the hill to deliver his
message, feeling as if something pleasant was going


could not help hearing a word now and then, as
the windows were open, and these bits of conversa-
tion filled him with curiosity, for the names
"Thorny," "Celia," and George" were often re-
peated, and an occasional merry laugh from the


BEN TAKES THE STONE FROM LITA'S FOOT.

to happen, so it would be wise to defer running young lady sounded like music in that usually
away, for the present at least, quiet place.
At one o'clock Miss Celia arrived, and Ben had When dinner was over, Ben's industrious fit left
the delight of helping Pat stable pretty Chcvalita; him, and he leisurely trundled his barrow to and
then, his own dinner hastily eaten, he fell to work fro till the guest departed. There was no chance
at the detested wood-pile with sudden energy, for, for him to help now, since Pat, anxious to get what-
as he worked, he could steal peeps into the dining- ever trifle might be offered for his services, was
room, and see the curly brown head between the quite devoted in his attentions to the mare and her
two gray ones as the three sat round the table. He mistress till she was mounted and off. But Miss
VOL. V.--8.


257







UNDER THE LILACS.


Celia did not forget her little guide, and spying a
wistful face behind the wood-pile, paused at the
gate and beckoned with that winning smile of hers.
If ten Pats had stood scowling in the way Ben
would have defied them all, and vaulting over the
fence he ran up with a shining face, hoping she
wanted some last favor of him. Leaning down,
Miss Celia slipped a new quarter into his hand,
saying:
Lita wants me to give you this for taking the
stone out of her foot."
Thanky, ma'am; I liked to do it, for I hate to
see 'em limp, 'specially such a pretty one as she is,"
answered Ben, stroking the glossy neck with a lov-
ing touch.
The Squire says you know a good deal about
horses, so I suppose you understand the Houyhn-
hnm language? I'm learning it, and it is very
nice," laughed Miss Celia, as Chevalita gave a little
whinny and snuggled her nose into Ben's pocket.
No, miss, I never went to school."
That is not taught there. I'll bring you a
book all about it when I come back. Mr. Gulliver
went to the horse-country and heard the dear things
speak their own tongue."
My father has been on the prairies where
there 's lots of wild ones, but he did n't hear 'em
speak. I know what they want without talking, "
answered Ben, suspecting a joke, but not exactly
seeing what it was.
I don't doubt it, but I wont forget the book.
Good-by, my lad, we shall soon meet again," and
away went Miss Celia as if she was in a hurry to
get back.
If she only had a red habit and a streamin'
vhite feather, she 'd look as fine as Melia used to.
She is 'most as kind and rides 'most as well. Won-
der where she 's going' to. Hope she Twill come
soon," thought Ben, watching till the last flutter of
the blue habit vanished round the corner, and then
he went back to his work with his head full of the
promised book, pausing now and then to chink the
two silver halves and the new quarter together in
his pocket, wondering what he should buy with
this vast sum.
Bab and Betty meantime had had a most excit-
ing day, for when they went home at noon they
found the pretty lady there, and she had talked to
them like an old friend, given them a ride on the
little horse, and kissed them both good-by when
they went back to school. In the afternoon the
lady was gone, the old house all open, and their
mother sweeping, dusting, airing in great spirits.
So they had a splendid frolic tumbling on feather
beds, beating bits of carpet, opening closets, and
racing from garret to cellar like a pair of distracted
kittens.


Here Ben found them, and was at once over-
whelmned with a burst of news which excited him as
much as it did them. Miss Celia owned the house,
was coming to live there, and things were to be
made ready as soon as possible. All thought the
prospect a charming one; Mrs. Moss because life
had been dull ;or her during the year she had
taken charge of the old house; the little girls had
heard rumors of various pets who were coming,
and Ben, learning that a boy and a donkey were
among them, resolved that nothing but the arrival
of his father should tear him from this now deeply
interesting spot.
"I 'm in suc/ a hurry to see the peacocks and
hear them scream. She said they did, and that
we 'd laugh when old Jack brayed," cried Bab,
hopping about on one foot to work off her im-
patience.
Is a faytun a kind of a bird? I heard her say
she could keep it in the coach-house," asked Betty,
inquiringly.
"It's a little carriage," and Ben rolled in the
grass, much tickled at poor Betty's ignorance.
Of course it is. I looked it out in the die., and
you must n't call it a fayton though it is spelt with
a p," added Bab, who liked to lay down the law
on all occasions, and did not mention that she had
looked vainly among the f's till a school-mate set
her right.
You can't tell me much about carriages. But
what I want to know is where Lita will stay?" said
Ben.
Oh, she's to be up at the Squire's till things
are fixed, and you are to bring her down. Squire
came and told Ma all about it, and said you were a
boy to be trusted, for he had tried you."
Ben made no answer, but secretly thanked his
stars that he had not proved himself untrustworthy
by running away, and so missing all this fun.
Wont it be fine to have the house open all the
time ? We can run over and see the pictures and
books whenever we like. I know we can, Miss
Celia is so kind," began Betty, who cared for these
things more than for screaming peacocks and comi-
cal donkeys.
Not unless you are invited," answered their
mother, locking the front door behind her.
" You 'd better begin to pick up your duds right
away, for she wont want them cluttering round her
front yard. If you are not too tired, Ben, you
might rake round a little while I shut the blinds. I
want things to look nice and tidy."
Two little groans went up fror two afflicted little
girls as they looked about them at the shady bower,
the dear porch, and the winding walks where they
loved to run till their hair whistled in the wind,"
as the fairy-books say.


[FEBRUARY,







UNDER THE LILACS.


"Whatever shall we do! Our attic is so hot
and the shed so small, and the yard always full of
hens or clothes. We shall have to pack all our
things away and never play any more," said Bab,
1, i. .. ,I
May be Ben could build us a little house in the
orchard," proposed Betty, who firmly believed that
Ben could do anything.
He wont have any time. Boys don't care for
baby-houses," returned Bab, collecting her home-
less goods and chattels with a dismal face.
We sha' n't want these much when all the new
things come; see if we do," said cheerful little
Betty, who always found out a silver lining to every
cloud.
CHAPTER VIII.
MISS CELIA'S MAN.
BEN was not too tired, and the clearing-up began
that very night. None too soon, for, in a day or
two, things arrived, to the great delight of the chil-
dren, who considered moving a most interesting
play. First came the phaeton, which Ben spent
all his leisure moments in admiring, wondering
with secret envy what happy boy would ride in the
little seat up behind, and beguiling his tasks by'
planning how, when he got rich, he would pass his
time driving about in just such an equipage, and
inviting all the boys he met to have a ride.
Then a load of furniture came creaking in at the
lodge gate, and the girls had raptures over a cot-
tage piano, several small chairs, and a little low
table, which they pronounced just the thing for
them to play at. The live stock appeared next,
creating a great stir in the neighborhood, for pea-
cocks were rare birds there; the donkey's bray
startled the cattle and convulsed the people with
laughter; the rabbits were continually getting out
to burrow in the newly made garden; and Cheva-
lita scandalized old Duke by dancing about the
stable which he had inhabited for years in stately
solitude.
Last, but by no means least, Miss Celia, her
young brother and two maids, arrived one evening
so late that only Mrs. Moss went over to help them
settle. The children were much disappointed, but
were appeased by a promise that they should all go
to pay their respects in the morning.
They were up so early, and were so impatient to
be off, that Mrs. Moss let them go with the warn-
ing that they would find only the servants astir.
She was mistaken, however, for as the procession
approached, a voice from the porch called out:
"Good morning, little neighbors!" so unexpect-
edly, that Bab nearly spilt the new milk she car-
ried, Betty gave such a start that the fresh-laid
eggs quite skipped in the dish, and Ben's face


broke into a broad grin over the armful of clover
which he brought for the bunnies, as he bobbed
his head, saying, briskly:
She's all right, miss; Lita is, and I can bring
her over any minute you say."
I shall want her at four o'clock. Thorny will
be too tired to drive, but I must hear from the
post-office, rain or shine; and Miss Celia's pretty
color brightened as she spoke, either from some
happy thought or because she was bashful, for the
honest young faces before her plainly showed their
admiration of the white-gowned lady under the
honeysuckles.
The appearance of Miranda, the maid, reminded
the children of their errand, and having delivered
their offerings, they were about to retire in some
confusion, when Miss Celia said pleasantly:
I want to thank you for helping put things in
such nice order. I see signs of busy hands and
feet both inside the house and all about the grounds,
and I am very much obliged."
"I raked the beds," said Ben, proudly eying
the neat ovals and circles.
I swept all the paths," added Bab, with a re-
proachful glance at several green sprigs fallen from
the load of clover on the smooth walk.
I cleared up the porch," and Betty's clean
pinafore rose and fell with a long sigh, as she sur-
veyed the late summer residence of her exiled
family.
Miss Celia guessed the meaning of that sigh, and
made haste to turn it into a smile by asking, anx-
iously:
What has become of the playthings ? I don't
see them anywhere."
Ma said you would n't want our duds round, so
we took them all home," answered Betty, with a
wistful face.
But I do want them round. I like dolls and
toys almost as much as ever, and quite miss the
little "duds" from porch and path. Suppose you
come to tea with me to-night and bring some of
them back ? I should be very sorry to rob you of
your pleasant play-place."
"Oh yes'm, we'd love to come! and we'll
bring our best things."
Ma always lets us have our shiny pitchers and
the china poodle when we go visiting or have com-
pany at home," said Bnb and Betty, both speaking
at once.
Bring what you like and I '11 hunt up my toys
too. Ben is to come also, and his poodle is espe-
cially invited," added Miss Celia as Sancho came
and begged before her, feeling that some agreeable
project was under discussion.
Thank you, miss. I told them you 'd be will-
ing they should come sometimes. They like this






UNDER THE LILACS.


place ever so much, and so do I," said Ben, feeling
that few spots combined so many advantages in the
way of climbable trees, arched gates, half-a-dozen
gables, and other charms suited to the taste of an
aspiring youth who had been a flying Cupid at the
age of seven.
So do I," echoed Miss Celia, heartily. Ten
years ago I came here a little girl, and made lilac
chains under these very bushes, and picked chick-
weed over there for my bird, and rode Thorny in
his baby-wagon up and down these paths. Grand-
pa lived here then and we had fine times; but now-
they are all gone except us two."
We have n't got any father either," said Bab,
for something in Miss Celia's face made her feel as
if a cloud had come over the sun.


the rings upon the white hand that held her own.
But Betty put her arms about the new friend's
neck, and kissed her so softly that the hungry feel-
ing in Miss Celia's heart felt better directly, for this
was the food it wanted, and Thorny had not
learned yet to return one half of the affection he
received. Holding the child close, she played with
the yellow braids while she told them about the
little German girls in their funny black-silk caps,
short-waisted gowns and wooden shoes, whom she
used to see watering long webs of linen bleaching
on the grass, watching great flocks of geese, or
driving pigs to market, knitting or spinning as they
went.
Presently, Randa," as she called her stout maid,
came to tell her that Master Thorny couldn't


~ii 'I'

A'


MISS CELIA AND HER LITTLE FRIENDS.


I have a first-rate father, if I only knew where
he 'd gone to," said Ben, looking down the path as
eagerly as if some one waited for him behind the
locked gate.
You are a rich boy, and you are happy little
girls to have so good a mother; I've found that
out already," and the sun shone again as the young
lady nodded to the neat, rosy children before her.
You may have a piece of her if you want to,
'cause you haven't got any of your own," said
Betty, with a pitiful look which made her blue eyes
as sweet as two wet violets.
So I will! and you shall be my little sisters. I
never had any, and I 'd love to try how it seems,"
and Miss Celia took both the chubby hands in hers,
feeling ready to love every one this first bright
morning in the new home which she hoped to
make a very happy one.
Bab gave a satisfied nod, and fell to examining


wait another minute," and she went in to breakfast
with a good appetite, while the children raced
home to bounce in upon Mrs. Moss, talking all at
once like little lunatics.
The phaeton at four,-so sweet in a beautiful
white gown,-going to tea, and Sancho and all the
baby things invited. Can't we wear our Sunday
frocks? A splendid new net for Lita. And she
likes dolls. Goody, goody, wont it be fun !"
With much difficulty their mother got a clear
account of the approaching festivity out of the
eager mouths, and with still more difficulty got
breakfast into them, for the children had few pleas-
ures, and this brilliant prospect rather turned their
heads.
Bab and Betty thought the day would never end,
and cheered the long hours by expatiating on the
pleasures in store for them, till their playmates
were much afflicted because they were not going


[FEBRUARY,


' `!il' /







UNDER THE LILACS.


also. At noon their mother kept them from run-
ning over to the old house lest they should be in
the way, so they consoled themselves by going to
the syringa bush at the corner and sniffing the
savory odors which came from the kitchen, where
Katy, the cook, was evidently making nice things
for tea.
Ben worked as if for a wager till four, then stood
over Pat while he curried Lita till her coat shone
like satin, then drove her gently down to the coach-
house, where he had the satisfaction of harnessing
her all his own self."
Shall I go round to the great gate and wait for
you there, miss ? he asked, when all was ready,
looking up at the porch where the young lady stood
watching him as she put on her gloves.
No, Ben, the great gate is not to be opened
till next October. I shall go in and out by the
lodge, and leave the avenue to grass and dandc-
lions, meantime," answered Miss Celia, as she
stepped in and took the reins, with a sudden smile.
But she did not start even when Ben had shaken
out the new duster and laid it neatly over her
knees.
Is n't it all right now ? asked the boy, anx-
iously.
Not quite; I need one thing more. Can't you
guess what it is ? "-and Miss Celia watched his
anxious face as his eyes wandered from the tips of
Lita's ears to the hind-wheel of the phaeton, trying
to discover what had been omitted.
No, miss, I don't see -- he began, much
mortified to think he had forgotten anything.
Would n't a little groom up behind improve
the appearance of my turnout ? she said, with a
look which left no doubt in his mind that he was to
be the happy boy to occupy that proud perch.
He grew red with pleasure, but stammered, as
he hesitated, looking down at his bare feet and
blue shirt:
I aint fit, miss, and I have n't got any other
clothes."
Miss Celia only smiled again more kindly than
before, and answered, in a tone which he under-
stood better than her words :
"A great man said his coat-of-arms was a pair
of shirt sleeves, and a sweet poet sung about a
barefooted boy, so I need not be too proud to ride
with one. Up with you, Ben, my man, and let us
be off, or we shall be late for our party."
With one bound the new groom was in his place,
sitting very erect, with his legs stiff, arms folded,
and nose in the air, as he had seen real grooms sit
behind their masters in fine dog-carts or carriages.
Mrs. Moss nodded as they drove past the lodge,
and Ben touched his torn hat-brim in the most
dignified manner, though he could not suppress a


broad grin of delight, which deepened into a
chuckle when Lita went off at a brisk trot along
the smooth road toward town.
It takes so little to make a child happy, it is a
pity grown people do not oftener remember it and
scatter little bits of pleasure before the small people,
as they throw crumbs to the hungry sparrows.
Miss Celia knew the boy was pleased, but he had
no words in which to express his gratitude for the
great contentment she had given him. He could
only beam at all he met, smile when the floating
ends of the gray veil blew against his face, and
long in his heart to give the new friend a boyish
hug as he used to do his dear Melia when she was
very good to him.
School was just out as they passed, and it was a
spectacle, I assure you, to see the boys and girls
stare at Ben up aloft in such state ; also to see the
superb indifference with which that young man
regarded the vulgar herd who went afoot. He
could not resist an affable nod to Bab and Betty,
for they stood under the maple-tree, and the mem-
ory of their circulating library made him forget his
dignity in his gratitude.
We will take them next time, but now I want
to talk to you," began Miss Celia, as Lita climbed
the hill. My brother has been ill, and I have
brought him here to get well. I want to do all
sorts of things to amuse him, and I think you can
help me in many ways. Would you like to work
for me instead of the Squire ? "
I guess I would ejaculated Ben, so heartily
that no further assurances were needed, and Miss
Celia went on, well pleased:
You see, poor Thorny is weak and fretful, and
does not like to exert himself, though he ought to
be out a great deal, and kept from thinking of
his little troubles. He cannot walk much yet, so I
have a wheeled chair to push him in, and the paths
are so hard it will be easy to roll him around.
That will be one thing you can do. Another is to
take care of his pets till he is able to do it himself.
Then you can tell him your adventures, and talk
to hin as only a boy can talk to a boy. That will
amuse him when I want to write or go out; but I
never leave him long, and hope he will soon be
running about as well as the rest of us. How does
that sort of work look to you ? "
First-rate I '11, take real good care of the
little fellow, and do everything I know to please
him, and so will Sanch. He 's fond of children,"
answered Ben, heartily, for the new place looked
very inviting to him.
Miss Celia laughed, and rather damped his ardor
by her next words:
I don't know what Thorny would say to hear
you call him 'little.' He is fourteen, and appears







CRUMBS FROM OLDER READING.


to get taller and taller every day. He seems like a
child to me, because I am nearly ten years older
than he is ; but you need n't be afraid of his long
legs and big eyes,-he is too feeble to do any
harm,-only you must n't mind if he orders you
about."
I 'm used to that. I don't mind it if he wont
call me a 'spalpeen,' and fire things at me," said
Ben, thinking of his late trials with Pat.
I can promise that, and I am sure Thorny will
like you, for I told him your story, and he is
anxious to see the circus boy,' as he called you.
Squire Alien says I may trust you, and I am glad
to do so, for it saves me much trouble to find what
I want all ready for me. You shall be well fed and
clothed, kindly treated and honestly paid, if you
like to stay with me."
I know I shall like it-till father comes, any-
way. Squire wrote to Smithers right off, but has n't
got any answer yet. I know they are on the go


now, so may be we wont hear for ever so long,"
answered Ben, feeling less impatient to be off than
before this fine proposal was made to him.
I dare say; meantime we will see how we get
on together, and perhaps your father will be will-
ing to leave you for the summer if he is away.
Now show me the baker's, the candy-shop, and the
post-office," said Miss Celia, as they rattled down
the main street of the village.
Ben made himself useful, and when all the other
errands were done, received his reward in the
shape of a new pair of shoes and a straw hat with
a streaming blue ribbon, on the ends of which
shone silvery anchors. He was also allowed to
drive home, while his new mistress read her letters.
One particularly long one, with a queer stamp on
the envelope, she read twice, never speaking a
word till they got back. Then Ben was sent off
with Lita and the Squire's letters, promising to get
his chores done in time for tea.


(To be continued'.)









CRUMBS FROM OLDER READING.

BY JUI.IA E. SARGENT.


EMERSON.
WHO ever heard of Emerson ?" I asked a room
of third-reader pupils. Nearly every hand came
up, and the bright faces were full of interest.
What a delightful surprise i I did not expect to see
more than two hands, and here all were as inter-
ested as if I had said, Who ever heard of Hayes
or Tilden ? All at once I remembered that, for
more than a week, every fence about the school
had been covered with circus-bills, bearing the
name Billy Emerson."
Sure enough he was the only Emerson those
pupils knew about; for when I said Ralph Waldo
Emerson, one by one the hands came down. No
one had heard of him. Now I know no more of
" Billy Emerson than the children knew of Ralph
Waldo Emerson, but I am not afraid to say that
the one I know is better worth knowing.
For in papa's library, or on mamma's center-
table, I have no doubt you can find more than one
book which he has written. When in his sermon
the minister tells what Emerson has said, you may
be very sure he does not quote "Billy." Papers


and magazines all have something to say concern-
ing this man, whose books grown people read and
talk about.
Who is he, then ? His name is Ralph Waldo
Emerson, and he writes books.
Very good; and what are people who write
books called? Then Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson
is an author. He lives in a republican country
which has Washington for its capital. He was
born in the Bay State, in the largest city of New
England. He dwells now in a little town where a
battle was fought a hundred years ago, and the
name of this town means "harmony." You know
where that is, do you not? He was born in 1803,
and, as this is 1878, every one of you boys and
girls who can subtract can tell just his age. One
of the books he has written tells about England,
another about such famous men as Shakspeare
and Napoleon, and others talk about wealth and
friendship, prudence and power.
That does not sound as if he meant them for
you? Well, one thing he did mean for you, and
that is a dear little poem-" The Squirrel and the


[FEBRUARY,







CRUMBS FROM OLDER READING.


Mountain." Every one of you will want to read it,
and when you have read it you will want to learn
it, and when you have learned you will want to
speak it. I need not have told you he meant that
poem for you; you would know that the minute
you saw it. But you could not tell so soon how
many things he says for you in those famous essays
so often quoted. What do you think I can find
for you in this dry-looking book, "Conduct of
Life," with "Emerson" printed just under the
title ?
Did you ever see an old hen with her little walk-
ing bundles of feathers in the soft garden soil?
How she does scratch and bustle for something to
eat! Why, she is eating every bit herself! Per-
haps she thinks that taking care of the chickens'
mother is very important work for her; but by-
and-by she will call the little folks to share what
she has found.
You may think of me as of an old hen who has
long been scratching in the soft garden soil of
Ralph Waldo Emerson's writings. She has found
much for herself, with now and then a bit for the
chickens.
Here, the very first thing, is something about
eggs. "There is always a best way of doing
everything, if it be but to boil an egg." I hope
my little friends are never cross when Bridget has
not boiled the nice breakfast egg in the best way.
More than that; I hope they themselves know
what is the best way of doing it; just how hot the
water must be, how long the egg should boil to
make it hard or soft, and, what is well worth know-
ing, how to get it in and out of the hot water with-
out breaking the shell.
Here is another bit. It is like an egg, for the
meaning is wrapt in words just as an egg hides in
the shell. The tell-tale body is all tongues."
What does the tongue help to do? Will no one
know that you are cross unless you say, "I am
cross this morning ? Can I find it out although
you do not say a word? Yes, indeed; that puck-
ered mouth and ugly little scowl tell, all too quickly,
and even if I could not see your face, that little
jerk and twist would tell the story. Do you not
know when the dog is sick or tired, or full of fun ?
yet, his bright eyes, eager little nose, lively body
and whisking tail, tell no more surely than your
own face and body.
The tell-tale body is all tongues." Mr. Emer-
son, we think that is true.


How can I be beautiful ? Every boy and girl,
man and woman, wants to know that. Here is
Mr. Emerson's beauty recipe: There is no
beautifier of complexion, or form, or behavior, like
the wish to scatter joy and not pain around us."
Do you suppose that recipe will work ? Think of
the most beautiful people you know. Ah, I knew
some one would say mother." Do you not think
these people are those who try very hard to make
others happy ? I know very many beautiful people
who would have remained very plain had they
sought only to please themselves.
We want to try Emerson's rule for becoming
beautiful, so it will not do to forget that There
is no beautifier of complexion, or form, or be-
havior, like the wish to scatter joy and not pain
around us."
Every man takes care that his neighbor shall
not cheat him. But a day comes when he begins
to care that he does not cheat his neighbor. Then
all goes well." Yes, Mr. Emerson, that is the only
way to have things go well,--following the Golden
Rule.
You cannot hide any secret. 'T is as hard to
hide as fire." Perhaps you think that it is not so;
but you just try how long you can keep a secret
that even your dearest friend does not know. I
should not wonder if Emerson were right once
more.
There is much you may not do." True again.
We do not need Emerson to tell us that. You
must not do that, you must not do this," the little
folks hear so often, that sometimes they wonder
what they may do.
But we would like to have him tell us what
things last longest.
He is all ready to tell whoever wants to know,
" Beauty is the quality which makes to endure. In
a house that I know, I have noticed a block of
spermaceti lying about closets and mantel-pieces
for twenty years together, simply because the tal-
low-man gave it the form of a rabbit; and I sup-
pose it may continue to be lugged about unchanged
for a century. Let an artist draw a few lines or
figures on the back of a letter, and that scrap of
paper is rescued from danger, is put in a portfolio,
or framed and glazed, and, in proportion to the
beauty of the lines drawn, will be kept for cent-
uries." And there are beauties of heart, mind
and character, that do not meet the eye, but are
none the less powerful in making to endure."


263







THE OLD MAN AND THE NERVOUS COW.




THE OLD MAN AND THE NERVOUS COW.

BY R. E.


There was an old man who said How
Shall I 'scape from this horrible cow ?
I will sit on the stile,
And continue to smile,
Which may soften the heart of the cow.'

THE old man was walking thoughtfully through
the field, with his hands behind him, when the
nervous cow saw him. She was n't ordinarily a
bad-natured cow, but she was mad just then. An
aggravating fly had been biting her half the morn-
ing, and, just as she was drinking at the brook, a
frog had jumped up with a cry and bitten her nose.
These things had completely unsettled her nerves.
She was ready to run at anything, and the old
man being the only living thing in sight, she
plunged toward him.
What could he do ? He was a short, stout old
man, and could not run very fast, and, though he
tried his best, he only just managed to reach the





.--.- .
2(y <-2
-^ .- *1 ^ ,*


and if I smile at the same time, she wont have the
heart to hurt me."
So he put on a smile (of course it was not a very
beautiful one, for he was in a hurry, but it was the
best he could do), and stared straight into the
cow's eyes. She saw that smile, and it so touched
her that she stopped short. Then she sauntered
back a little way, but the thought of that aggra-
vating fly, and that awful frog, was too much for
her poor nerves, and turning around, she dashed
madly on again.
In another minute, the poor old man-cane,
little legs, smile and all-was up in the air.
He alighted in the top of a hickory-tree. One
branch grazed his eye, two ran into his legs, while
another held his smile stiff and straight.
Thus he stayed until an eagle caught sight of
him, pounced right down, and flew off with him
to her nest, which was on a huge rock that rose


/-,vV/',v.7'./yi .'./;'"
T^ ^ i ^---
i! "* i < , :: .. ...-
A /i '". .

'1 f ^


"I LL SIT ON THE STILE, AND CONTAIN TO SMILE.
"I OILL SIT ON TIiE STILE, AND CONTINUE TO SMILE."


stile and plump down on it, all out of breath, as
the cow neared him.
Then he suddenly remembered reading some-
where that if you looked right into an animal's
eyes, it would run away from you.
Ah thought he, I'll look straight at her,


straight up into the cold air and made the summit
of a mountain.
When the old eagle plumped the little old man
down into the nest, just imagine, if you can, how
astonished the eaglets were They opened their
beaks as well as their eyes, and cried out :


[FEBRUARY,






THE OLD MAN AND THE NERVOUS COW.


What's this, mother ? What is this ? "
Oh it's only a man," cried the old eagle. I
found him roosting in the top of a tree. Don't
know how he got there. Suppose he was trying to
fly, and could n't. Tell us how it was, old man."
"Can he talk? "
Talk said the eagle. "Of course he can
talk. And he can tell stories, too, I warrant you.
So, if you like, you may keep him to tell you
stories."
Oh, wont that be nice Tell us a story, right
off," they all screamed, jerking the old man down
into the nest.
"But it's so dirty here," said he, looking around,
with his nose turned up a little. "Let me sit on
the edge of the nest, wont you ?-and I'll tell you
all the stories you want."
You'll fall over."
Oh no, I wont. I'll hold on with my cane
and my legs. Now just shut your beaks, so you
wont look so savage, and listen."
So the old man perched himself on the edge of
the nest. The eaglets took hold of his coat with
their beaks, to keep him from falling; and he
told them the story of "Ali Baba and the Forty
Thieves "; and when that was ended, another, and
then another.
He did n't eat much supper that night, for they
had n't any convenience for cooking. And he
did n't sleep well, either, for whenever one of the
eaglets woke up in the night, it always pinched him
with its beak, to make sure he was there. So he
resolved to get away as soon as he could.
But he did n't seem to have any chance; so there
he stayed and told stories till he longed to wring
the necks of the gaping birds that kept asking him
for more.
Now, all this time the cow had been getting
more and more nervous. Every day she thought
of the poor old man and his meek little legs and
his sweet old smile, and just how his coat-tails
looked as he went up ; till at last she laid her head
down on a tuft of grass by the brook, and cried-
regularly boo-hooed.
Having thus relieved her feelings, she became
calm, and, rising, said:
"I'll go to his house and find out how and
where he is, if I can."
So off she started. But the house was shut up,
and there was no one there except the cat.
Very much frightened the cat was, too, when the
cow pushed up the pantry window with her horns,
and bellowed :
Where's your master ? "
I don't know," said the cat, retreating to a far
corner, with his back up. I have n't set eyes on
him since last Sunday."


Oh dear sighed the cow, dropping the win-
dow with a crash that broke out two of the panes
of glass. What shall I do ? "
What's the matter with you ?-and what do



S-,, ..


"E ... ...
"THE POOR


OLD MAN WAS UP IN THE AIR."


you want of the old man ? asked Tabby, bound-
ing out through one of the broken panes.
The cow told him.
Well," said Tab, stroking his whiskers reflect-
ively, I guess I'11 go with you and help you look
for the good-natured old creature."
So they journeyed on, asking everybody they
met about the old man. But nobody knew, until
finally they came across an old crow who knew
everybody's business.
An old man ? said he. The eagle took an
old man the other day. Did he have very slender
legs?"
Yes, yes said the cat and the cow together.
And a sweet smile on his face ? "
Yes, yes cried the cow. He went up with
that smile, and it has been haunting me ever
since," and she burst into a flood of tears.
Well," said the crow, "he 's in the eagle's nest
telling stories to the eaglets, and if he is n't tired
of the business by this time, I 'm mistaken."
"Where is the nest?-and how can we get
there ? "







THE OLD MAN AND THE NERVOUS COW.


Up at the very top of the mountain yonder.
Go straight ahead, and you can't miss it."
So straight ahead they went till they came to the
rock where the eagle's nest was. Then what should
they do? They could hear the old man's little,
thin voice telling stories to the birds, but they knew
he would n't dare come where the cow was, even
if he could clamber down that steep rock. At last,
Tab suggested that the cow should hide herself,
while he climbed up into the nest and persuaded


As soon as she had gone, the old man looked
all about him, and called Tabby, Tabby," very
softly. Tabby came out from under the roots of a
tree and bounded on his shoulder, and told him
how sorry the cow was, and how she was waiting
in a thicket ready to carry him home, if he wanted
to go.
Of course he wanted to go, and in less than a
jiffy the cow had come out from her hiding-place,
had cried a little, and had taken the old man on


11V
a P


7- S





-I t-f




-d..


THE OLD MAN TELLING STORIES TO THE EAGLETS.


the old man. So the cow hid, and puss scrambled
up to the nest and carefully poked his head in.
Ah, master !" he whispered; climb down the
rock to-night, and I'll show you the way home."
And he disappeared.
This visit braced up the old man's courage, and
when the mother-bird came home he calmly told
her he thought he 'd sleep at the foot of the rpck
that night; and she unsuspectingly took him in her
talons and dropped him gently on the ground.


her back, and started full speed down the mountain,
with the cat tearing after her.
It was a long way to the old man's house, and
they reached it just tired out. Of course, they got
something to eat, and then they went to bed and
slept right through two days ; but on the morning
of the third day they got up as merry as crickets,
and, after a hearty breakfast, they agreed to live
together for the rest of their lives. And they have
lived ever since in perfect harmony.


266


[FEBRUARY,






THE RAID OF THE CAMANCHES.




THE RAID OF THE CAMANCHES.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "WE BOYS.'


FRED HART, who was the eldest son of a country
clergyman, and preparing for college at Whitford
Boys' Academy, was known at that classical insti-
tution as a "dig;" because he "dug" into his
books and studied hard. His room-mate, Ncal
Howe, an orphan, dependent upon his own exer-
tions, was styled a digger;" and as both lads
were rather dark, it was but a step for those wicked
upper-story boys to stigmatize them, Digger
Indians "
This term was gradually extended to include all
the boys in the second story, for they were all hard
students. The Diggers retaliated mildly by
styling their upper-story neighbors, "'Camanches."
The Camanches perpetrated all sorts of school-
boy atrocities on the Diggers, but, above all things
else, they burned for a pillow-fight. In vain they
challenged the Diggers to combat. Those law-
abiding savages declined, though well aware of
thereby falling into contempt on charge of cow-
ardice.
Unmistakable indications were soon apparent
that the Camanches meditated an attack.
The north wing was intended to be fire-proof,
and each story was separated from the main build-
ing by iron doors which usually were fastened back
by staples. The Camanches reasoned that these
doors might be as effectual in shutting off teachers
as fire; and the staples in both the second and
third stories were one day withdrawn, so that these
doors could be easily closed.
Scouting parties reported that the Camanches
were getting ready the war-paint,-i. c., the burnt
cork,-and one ferocious savage had intimated that
they should spare neither age nor sex.
A council was immediately held in Fred Hart's
room, and Fred unanimously chosen chief.
If they 're determined on a pillow-fight they
shall have it," resolutely remarked that warrior.
The Diggers proposed using their own pillows
as reserve arms only, and the next day any number
of this tribe might have been seen scouring the
village on mysterious errands, which the house-
wives would have explained as an effort to buy up
old pillows.
All's fair on the defensive," said Chief Fred,
and each Digger ripped open one end of his pillow,
poured in a little mucilage, and then basted it up,
in accordance with the liberal views boys always
entertain concerning "basting."
At a little after nine o'clock, when the lights had


been extinguished, and a teacher made the nightly
rounds, a Camanche scout quietly closed and bolted
the iron doors and relighted the hall lamps. Then,
with hair-starting war-whoops, the savages began
dropping down through the trap-door, which
opened from one hall to another in the capacity
of fire-escapes.
The Diggers, peacefully studying in their rooms,
were summarily ordered into the hall to battle.
Every man protested, but the Camanches refused
to parley. Then, seizing their weapons, the assailed
marched forth to the field of carnage.
Thwack went the blows of the Camanches.
Thwack the Diggers.
Thwack the Camanches.
Thwack the Diggers.
A stir among the Camanches and then a wild
affray.
Crack crack! go the Diggers' bastings. Crack!
feathers fly over the heads and into the eyes of the
Camanches, and there many of them stick. The
Camanches realize the disadvantages of unprovoked
assault with no rules of warfare agreed upon before-
hand.
Here and there a Camanche drops his arms and
flies to the farther end of the hall, only to fumble
unavailingly at the fastenings of the iron door,
while a victorious Digger belabors him with the
weapon he has just cast aside.
All at once there is described in the dim light of
the hall the boots and never-to-be-mistaken striped
pantaloons of Captain Hale swinging through the
trap-door !
Captain Hale is drill-sergeant and professor of
gymnastics. He has seen' years of army service,
and is thoroughly imbued with the military-spirit.
The boys are more afraid of him than of the presi-
dent and entire board of trustees,-as afraid as they
would be of old Nick, himself, in boots and striped
pantaloons.
In a flash every Digger had disappeared into his
own room and locked the door after him, and the
Camanches are left alone, gasping among their
feathers, the captain in their midst.
There is a moment of bewilderment followed by
a wild stampede toward the iron door, but the Cap-
tain has cut off the retreat.
Young gentlemen, you will remain and clear
up the hall. Williams, go to the coal-cellar and
bring up the two-bushel basket."
Williams is nobbiest" of third-story boys,







THE RAID OF TIIE CAMANCIIES.


bravest of Camanche warriors, but Williams does-
n't dare refuse to go for that basket. During his
absence his fellow-savages express strong doubts as
to his ever re-appearing upon the battle-field, but
he does return, like Regulus to his barrel of spikes.
The Captain has borrowed a number of brooms
and dust-pans from the Diggers who, to a man, had
retired and been snoring sweetly.
"Now, gentlemen, clear up these feathers!"
orders the Captain, as if he was crying, Forward,
march "
Clearing up those feathers was a tedious and try-
ing process. Any one who has ever chased a
worn-out but still lively feather up and down a long
hall can imagine the scene with hundreds of them
flying about.
They're the meanest lot of feathers,-pretty
much all fuzz," said one exhausted brave.
When the last handful had been crowded into
the basket, Williams attempted opening the door.
No; you 're to make your exit the same way
you made your ingress," announced the Captain.
Williams stared blankly at the trap-hole in the
ceiling.
Dropping down through a trap-door and going
up through the same, with no visible means of sup-
port but the floor, are naturally different exercises.
You're fertile in expedients; can't you devise
some good way of getting out ?" coolly asked the
Captain.
"We might stand on each other's shoulders,"


suggested one small savage, whom the blood-
thirsty Williams afterward confessed he longed to
scalp at this juncture.
Very well, do so," ordered the Captain.
Then one of the noble savages stood under the
trap-door while one by one the others sprang upon
his shoulders, caught the edges of the opening
above, wriggled, writhed, contorted his limbs, and
finally succeeded in drawing himself up to his own
story, while all down the hall, on either side, there
appeared at the open ventilators over the doors the
eyes of pairs of miserable Diggers, and for every
Camanche that wriggled up there resounded a suc-
cession of groans.
The Camanches thought, with a thrill of exulta-
tion, that the Captain would be obliged to proffer
his shoulders for the last man, and would then be
left pondering alone, like the goat in the well.
That would be something of a revenge, at any rate.
But when only one boy remained, who, to the
exasperation of the entire tribe, was the identical
small savage who had proposed going up in that
ridiculous style, the Captain quietly opened the iron
door, and he and the small savage retired with
dignity.
The Captain, who had his good streaks," never
reported the Camanches, but they manifested a
disposition thereafter to settle quietly upon their
own reservation and cultivate the peaceful arts, and
they always treated their neighbors, the Diggers,
with respect, though unmingled with affection.


1<>c1

; It~'-'1


"LITTLE BO-PEEP, SHE WENT TO SLEEP."


[FEBRUARY,







SOLIMIN: A SHIP OF THE DESERT.



SOLIMIN: A SHIP OF THE DESERT.

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


I ASKED a party of children once the meaning
of the word desert," and all but one shouted out,
rice pudding and oranges having in their minds
the dinner which we had just eaten. That one,
who was older than the rest, said, rather shyly,
"A big piece of land, aunty, is n't it ? but even
he did n't know how big,-or that there is a differ-
ence in spelling between the dessert which people
eat and the desert which sometimes eats people,
closing its jaws of sand, and swallowing them up as
easily as a boy swallows a cherry.
The biggest desert in the world is in Africa, and
is called the Sahara. It is almost as large as the
Atlantic Ocean, but instead of water it is all sands
and rocks. Like the ocean, it is visited with storms;
dreadful gales, when the wind scoops up thousands
of tons of sand and drives them forward, burying
and crushing all they meet. And it has islands,
too-small green patches, where springs bubble
through the ground, and ferns and acacias and
palm-trees grow. When a traveler sees one of
these fertile spots afar off, he feels as a tempest-
tossed sailor does at sight of land. It is delightful
to quit the hot, baking sun, sit in shadow under
the trees, and rest the eyes, long wearied with
dazzling sands, on the sweet green and the clear
spring. Oases, these islands are called. Long
distances divide them. It is often a race for life to
get across from one to the other. Sometimes
people do not get across In i8o5, a caravan of
2,000 persons died miserably of heat and thirst in
the great desert, and the sand covered them up.
Do you wonder at my saying that the desert eats
men ?
Now, you will be puzzled to guess what sort of
ship it is which swims this dry ocean. It is the
camel-an animal made by God to endure these
dreadful regions, in which no other beast of burden
can live and travel. I dare say many of you have
seen camels in menageries. They are ugly animals,
but very strong, swift and untiring. With a load
of 800oo pounds on his back, a camel will travel for
days at the rate of eight miles an hour, which is as
fast as an ordinary ship can sail. More wonderful
still, he will do this without stopping for food or
water. Nature has provided him with an extra
stomach, in which he keeps a store of drink, and
with a hump on his back, made of jelly-like fat,
which, in time of need, is absorbed into the system
and appropriated as food. Is it not strange to
think of a creature with a cistern and a meat-safe


inside him ? A horse would be useless in the
desert, where no oats or grass can be had; but
the brave, patient camel goes steadily on without
complaint till the oasis is reached : then he champs
his thorn bushes, fills himself from the spring,
allows the heavy pack to be fastened on his back
again, and is ready for further travel.
Now you know what sort of a ship it is that
I am going to tell you about. It was a camel,
named Solimin. He was of a rare and valuable
breed, known as "herie," or coursers, because
they are so much swifter than ordinary camels.
Solimin's master, Ahmed, was a poor man. He
never could have afforded to buy a full-grown
camel of this rare breed; and Solimin had become
his through a piece of good fortune. When a little
foal, Solimin was found in a lonely place in the
desert, standing over the dead body of his mother,
who had fallen and perished by the way. Led to
the brown tent which was Ahmed's home, the
orphan baby grew up as a child of the family, lay
among the little ones at night, and was their pet
and plaything all the day. The boys taught him
to kneel, to rise, to carry burdens, to turn this way
and that at a signal. The girls hung a necklace
of blessed shells around his neck, saved for him the
best of the food, sang him songs (which he was
supposed to enjoy), and daily kissed and stroked
his gentle nose and eyes. As he grew big and
strong, the pride of his owners grew with him.
Not another family of the tribe possessed a herie.
Once and again, Ahmed was offered a large price
for him, but he rejected it with disdain.
Would I sell my son-the son of my heart ?"
he said. Neither will I part with Solimin. By
the Prophet, I swear it."
Of all the dwellers in the brown tent Solimin
loved best Ahmed himself, and his eldest son, Mus-
tapha. With them he was docile as a lamb; but
if strangers drew near, or persons he did not like,
he became restive and fierce, screamed, laid back
his ears, and kicked with his strong hind legs. A
kick from a camel is no joke, I can tell you. All
the desert guides knew Solimin, and, for his sake,
Ahmed was often hired to accompany caravans.
Nay, once, at Cairo, Solimin was chosen to carry
the sacred person of the Khedive on a day's excur-
sion up the Nile bank, which event served the tribe
as a boast for months afterward.
It was the year after this journey to Cairo that
Ahmed met with a terrible adventure. He and







SOLIMIN: A SHIP OF THE DESERT.


Mustapha, making their way home after a long
journey, had lain down to sleep away the noontide
hours, according to the custom of desert travelers.
Their camels were tethered beside them, all seemed
secure and peaceful, when, sudden as the lowering
of a cloud, a party of Arabs, belonging to a wild
tribe at enmity with all men, pounced upon them.
Ahmed and his son defended themselves manfully,
but what could two men, surprised in sleep, do
against a dozen? In five minutes all was over.
The assailants vanished in a cloud of dust, and
A.hmed, who had been struck down in the rush,
recovered his senses, to find camels, baggage, belt,
money, everything gone, and Mustapha wounded
and motionless on the earth beside him.
Ahmed thought him dead. They were alone
in the desert, a hundred miles from home, without
food or water, and with a groan of despair he sat
down beside his son's body, bowed his head, and
waited until death should come to him also. An
Arab believes in fate, and gives up once for all
when misfortune occurs.
But Mustapha stirred, and Ahmed at once sprang
up. There was nothing he could, do for the poor
boy, except to chafe and rub his hands; but this
was something, for presently Mustapha revived
enough to speak.
Are they gone ? he asked.
Yes, the accursed ones, they are gone, with all
our goods and with Solimin The Prophet's curse
light upon them And passing from despair to
fury, Ahmed threw sand upon his head, and flung
himself on the ground in helpless rage. Mustapha
joined in with groans and lamentations.
When the father and son grew calmer, they
began to discuss their situation. Ahmed knew of
a small unfrequented oasis, about twenty miles
away. it was their only chance of safety, but could
they reach it?
I think I can walk," declared Mustapha, tying
up his wounded leg in a fold torn from his turban.
But he limped sadly, and his tightly pressed lips
showed pain as he moved. He was faint with
hunger beside. Neither of the men had eaten
since sunrise.
Suddenly Mustapha uttered a joyful cry, and
lifted something from the earth.
The Prophet be praised !" he cried. My
father, here is food. The robbers have dropped a
bag of dates."
Sure enough, there it lay, a heavy bag of dates,
shaken off from some camel's pack during the
struggle. Heavy as it was, and hard to carry,
Ahmed would fain have had it larger. It was
their safety from starvation. A handful of its
contents satisfied hunger, and gave them strength
to begin their walk. What a walk it was !


Poor Mustapha lay down every half-hour from pain
and weakness; the sand was heavy, the darkness
puzzled them. When morning broke, they had
not accomplished more than half the distance. All
through the hot day-time they lay panting on the
ground, eating now and then a date, tormented
with thirst and heat; and when evening came, they
dragged themselves to their feet again, and recom-
menced their painful journey. Step by step, hour
by hour, each harder and longer than the last,
moment by moment they grew more feeble, less
able to bear up, till it seemed as though they could
no longer struggle on. At last, the morning broke.
Ahmed raised his blood-shot eyes, seized Musta-
pha's arm, and pointed. There, not a hundred
yards away, was the oasis, its trees and bushes out-
lined against the sky.
Poor Mustapha was so spent that his father had
to drag him across the short dividing space. It was
a small oasis, and not very fertile; its well was shal-
low and scanty, but no ice-cooled sherbet ever
seemed more delicious than did its brackish waters
to the parched tongues of the exhausted men.
All day and all night they lay under the shadow
of the cactuses and the acacia-trees, rousing only
to drink, and falling asleep again immediately.
Shade, and sleep, and water seemed the only
things in the world worth having just then.
The second day they slept less, but it was nearly
a week before they could be said to be wide-awake
again. Such a pair of scare-crows as they looked !
Ahmed was almost naked. The robbers had taken
part of his clothes, and the desert thorns the rest.
Haggard, wild, blackened by the sun, they gazed
at each other with horror; each thought, Do I
look like that?" and each tried to hide from the
other his own dismay.
They could never tell afterward how long they
remained at the oasis. It seemed years, but I
suppose it could not have been more than weeks.
All day long they looked wistfully toward the hori-
zon, in hopes of a caravan, but the caravan never
came. Slowly the dates dwindled in the bag; slowly
the precious water diminished in the well; a little
longer, and starvation would be upon them. They
scarcely spoke to each other those last days, but sat
each by himself in a sort of dull despair. At
night, when they fell asleep, they dreamed of food,
and woke in the morning to feel themselves still
hungry. It was horrible !
Then came a morning when they rose to find
the hard desert outline, which they knew so well,
vanished and gone, and in its stead a smooth, shin-
ing lake, fringed with trees and dotted with feathery,
fairy islands. So near it seemed, and so real, that
it was as though they heard the ripple of the water
and the rustling of the wind in the tree-boughs.


[FEBRUARY,






SOLIMIN: A SHIP OF THE DESERT.


Mustapha stared as though his eyes would burst
from his head; then he gave a wild cry, and was
rushing away; but his father held him fast.
"Stay, my son! Stay, Mustapha! It is no
lake,-it is a device of Satan. What you behold
is the mirage, spread by devils for men's destruc-
tion."
Let me go shrieked Mustapha, writhing and
struggling.
,But even as he strove, the soft water-outlines
shifted and trembled; the lake rose in air, melted,
and sailed off into curling mists; the trees, the
whole fair picture, dissolved, and the well-remem-


camel. Soundless and still, it moved rapidly along.
Behind, but much farther away, other forms could
be seen, still dim and indistinct, veiled by the mist
of driving sand.
Suddenly Mustapha gave a start.
My father," he cried, in an excited whisper,
"it is Solimin I do not mistake! What other
camel ever resembled Solimin? Do you not see
his lofty hump,-his arched neck? Does not the
bell tinkle as with the voice of home ? "
Then, half raising himself, he gave, with all the
power of his voice, the well-known call.
Solimin-for it was indeed he-paused as the


I l18


TS~flfli2Zt-tI rS=


2-,


"THEY SAW THE FORM OF A GIGANTIC CAMEL."


bered sands and black rocks took its place. With
a cry of horror, Mustapha slid through his father's
arms to the earth, hid his face, and cried like a
child.
Next morning, only one date was left in the bag.
Ahmed put it in his son's hand with a mournful
look.
Eat, my son," he said; cat, and then we will
die. Allah il Allah "
A long silence followed; there seemed nothing
more to say. Suddenly, from afar off, came to
their ears the tinkle of a bell.
Mustapha raised his head.
Is it the mirage again, my father? he asked.
" For it seems to me that I hear the bell from the
neck of Solimin, our camel."
Eagerly they listened. Again the bell tinkled,
and, looking through the bushes, they saw, 1.I.. i..
toward them, as it seemed, the form of a gigantic


sound caught his ears, and snuffed the wind.
Again came the call; he wheeled, plunged, threw
his rider, dashed forward, broke through the
bushes, and in a second was on his knees before
his old master.
Up, up, my father there is no time to lose "
cried Mustapha, grown stronger in a moment.
" Up, up for the robbers are close upon us! "
In fact, wild cries and clouds of dust showed
that the foe had taken the alarm, and were hurry-
ing on. But already Ahmed and Mustapha were
mounted, and Solimin, like a ship at full sail, was
speeding away with them. And where was the
camel could overtake him, even when he was
loaded double? Fast and swift his long, swinging
trot bore them onward, and before two hours were
gone, all traces of the pursuers had disappeared
behind them, and they were free to turn their
course toward the brown tents where rest, and food,


5~Y=--~-'-=-`
-~---
__
.rr


-1-






THE LONDON DUST-MAN.


and welcome had waited so long for their com-
ing, and where, after a little time, their hardships
and sufferings seemed to them only like a bad
dream.
As for Solimin, he hardly could be more tenderly
treated or beloved than before this adventure; but
if the freshest water, the prickliest furze,-if bowls
of sour milk,-if a triple necklace of shells,-if


brushing and grooming,-if soft pats from childish
fingers, and sweet names murmured in his ears by
girlish voices can make a camel happy, then is
Solimin the happiest of heries. Solimin no longer,
however. His name is changed to The Blessed,"
in memory of the day when, like a stately ship, he
came over the desert sea, and bore his starving
masters to home, and life, and liberty.


BELINDA BLONDE.

BY LAURA L. RICHARDS.


BELINDA BLONDE was a beautiful doll,
With rosy-red cheeks and a flaxen poll;
Her lips were red, and her eyes were blue,
But to say she was happy would not be true;
For she pined for love of the great big Jack
Who lived in the box so grim and black.
She never had looked on the Jack his face,
But she fancied him shining with beauty and
grace;
And all the day long she would murmur and
pout,
Because Jack-in-the-box would never come out.
" Oh, beautiful, beautiful Jack-in-the-box !
Undo your bolts and undo your locks !
The cupboard is shut, and there's no one about;
Oh, Jack-in-the-box jump out, jump out "
But alas, alas for Belinda Blonde !
And alas, alas for her dreamings fond !
There soon was an end to all her doubt,
For Jack-in-the-box really did jump out !-


Out with a crash, and out with a spring,
Half black and half scarlet, a horrible thing;
Out with a yell and out with a shout,
His great goggle-eyes glaring wildly about.
SAlas alas cried Belinda Blonde;
"Is this the end of my dreamings fond?
Is this my love, and is this my dear,
This hideous, glowering monster here ?
Alas alas cried Belinda fair.
She wrung her hands and she tore her hair,
Till at length, as the dolls who were witnesses say,
She fell on the ground and she fainted away.

MORAL.
Now all you dolls, both little and big,
With china crown and with curling wig,
Before you give way to affection fond,
Remember the fate of Belinda Blonde;
And unless you wish to get terrible knocks,
Don't set your heart on a Jack-in-the-box.


THE LONDON DUST-MAN.

BY ALEXANDER WAINWRIGHT.


THERE he goes A dusky gloom hangs over
the roofs of great London City; a similar gloom
fills my room and seems to have touched all the
furniture with smoky age, and as I look down from
the window into the gloomy street, I see him com-
ing along slowly, and crying in a voice like a plea
for help in affliction: Dust-oh !-dust-oh !-
dust-oh !-dust-oh "
Not one of the many citizens who are passing


notices him, or finds anything strange in that plaint-
ive cry. The people who live in the city see him
day after day, and remember how, in their child-
hood, they had terrifying notions of his weakness
for kidnapping and other mysterious wickednesses.
They know better now, and hurry past him with
scarcely a glance ; but to the American visitor he
is something of a curiosity.
When the London fog is gray we cannot see him


[FEBRUARY,







TIE LONDON DUST-MAN.


"DlST-OH !
very far off, for he, too, is gray from head to foot low, shod with enormous Bliicher shoes (the soles
with ash-dust, and as he approaches us he comes of which are bright with nails), and clad in a loose
out of the mist like a phantom, though in reality blouse and trousers, that are tied up about the
he is a substantial, square-built, deep-chested fel- knees. The blouse is open at the chest, and is
VoL. V.-I9.


273


,, ,,


"i; Bi

;I!
I:i


--- \"'\1 "







IIUCKLEBERRY.


lifted to the waist by his big, brown hands, which
are tucked in his trouser pockets, and his head is
covered by the kind of hat that sailors call a sou'-
wester. His only ornament is a pair of ear-rings;
and with his head thrown back he saunters along
the street by the side of his cart, repeating in
measured tones his cry, Dust-oh-oh dust-oh !"
Now and then he stops at a house, and his mate
-he has a mate who is as much like him as pea is
like pea-descends into the cellar, bringing forth
the ashes and refuse that have accumulated in
twenty-four hours, and when the cart, which is a
square, box-like affair, is filled he starts for home
with his load.
What a queer home it is It is on the outskirts
of the city, far away from the finer streets and
buildings. A large space of ground is as gray and
dusty as an African or Western desert, and is
broken by mounds of ashes, some of which are
only a few feet high, while others are almost as
high as houses,-quite as high, in fact, as the dis-
mal little shanties on the edge of the reservation in
which the dust-man and his fellows live. Other
carts and other dust-men are constantly coming and
going, dumping one load and then returning to
the city for another, and as soon as a load is
dumped it is attacked by a crowd of men, women
and children, who with shovels, rakes and hooks,
turn it over and over, and raise stifling clouds of
dust.
The reader may think that the collections made
by the dust-man are valueless, but such is not the
case.
There are more than 300,000 inhabited houses


in London, consuming more than 3,500,000 tons
of coal a year, and besides the ashes from this great
quantity of fuel, the dust-man gathers the other
refuse of the houses. He is employed by a con-
tractor, who agrees with the corporation to remove
the ashes, etc., out of the city, and the contractor
divides every load into six parts, as follows: Soil,
or fine dust, which is sold to brick-makers for mak-
ing bricks and to farmers for manure; brieze, or
cinders, sold to brick-makers for burning brick;
rags, bones and old metals, sold to marine-store
dealers; old tin and iron vessels, sold to trunk-
makers for clamps ; bricks, oyster and other shells,
sold for foundations and road-building; and old
boots and shoes, sold to the manufacturers of
Prussian blue.
Sometimes much more valuable things than
these are found, and the reader may remember
the romance that Charles Dickens made out of a
London dust-man-" Our Mutual Friend."
It is in sifting the different parts of a load that
the men, women and children, are employed; they
are as busy as ants; mere babies and wrinkled
old dames take a part in the labor, and all of them
are so covered with dust and ashes that they are
anything but pleasant to contemplate, though, as
a rule, they are useful, honest, and industrious
members of society.
': Dustie is what the Londoners familiarly call
the dust-man, and only a few know in what igno-
rance and poverty he lives. One would think that
he would work himself into a better occupation, but
his family have been dust-men for generations, and
the generations after him are not likely to change.


HUCKLEBERRY.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.


iMORE than a hundred and sixty-eight years ago,
there lived a' curious personage called Old Rid-
dler." His real name was unknown to the people in
that part of the country where he dwelt; but this
made no difference, for the name given him was
probably just as good as his own. Indeed, I am
quite sure that it was better, for it meant some-
thing, and very few people have names that mean
anything.
He was called Old Riddler for two reasons. In
the first place, he was an elderly man ; secondly,
he was the greatest fellow to ask riddles that you
ever heard of. So this name fitted him very well.


Old Riddler had some very peculiar character-
istics,-among others, he was a gnome. Living
underground for the greater part of his time, he
had ample opportunities of working out curious
and artful riddles, which he used to try on his
fellow-gnomes ; and if they liked them, he would
go above-ground and prcpound his conundrums to
the country people, who sometimes guessed them,
but not often.
The fact is, that those persons who wished to be
on good terms with the old gnome never guessed
his riddles. They knew that they would please
him better by giving them up.


[FEBRUARY,






HUCKLEBERRY.


He took such a pleasure in telling the answers to
his riddles, that no truly kind-hearted person would
deprive him of it, by trying to solve them.
"You see," as Old Riddler used to say, when
talked to on the subject, if I take all the trouble
to make up these riddles, it's no more than fair
that I should be allowed to give the answers."
So the old gnome, who was not much higher
than a two-year-old child, though he had quite a
venerable head and face, was very much encouraged
by the way the people treated him, and when a
person happened to be very kind and appreciative,











: L i /


A o",
C \4/
I*i i .i I



.- -- '











conundrums, that person would be pretty sure,
before long, to feel glad that he had met Old
Riddler.
There were thousands of ways in which the
gnomes could benefit the country-folks, especially
those who had little farms or gardens. Sometimes
Old Riddler, who was a person of great influence
in his tribe, would take a company of gnomes
under the garden of some one to whom he wished
to do a favor, and they would put their little hands
up through the earth and pull down all the weeds,
root-foremost, so that when the owner went out in
th mor e nin, would fia d his garden as clear of
weeds as the bottom of a dinner-plate.
Of course, any one who has habits of this kind
und. -h _adl o,- 'om "-e - .~o e\:s
"o ,oaf\oadtcuoll ptterltl ad


must eventually become a general favorite, and
this was the case with Old Riddler.
One day he made up a splendid riddle, and, after
he had told it to all the gnomes, he hurried up to
propound it to some human person.
He was in such haste that he actually forgot his
hat, although it was late in the fall, and he wore
his cloak. He had not gone far through the fields
before he met a young goose-girl, named Lois.
She was a poor girl, and was barefooted; and as
Old Riddler saw her in her scanty dress, standing
on the cold ground, watching her geese, he thought
to himself: Now I do hope that girl
has wit enough to understand my rid-
dle, for I feel that I would like to get
interested in her."
So, approaching Lois, he made a bow
and politely asked her : Can you tell
me, my good little girl, why a ship full
S of sailors, at the bottom of the sea, is
,,- like the price of beef? "
The goose-girl began to scratch her
S head, through the old handkerchief she
wore instead of a bonnet, and tried to
I", think of the answer.
S'I Because it's low,' said she, after
S. a minute or two.
7-: _? "Ohno!"said the gnome. "That's
not it. You can give it up, you know,
T'.. if you can't think of the answer."
I know !" said Lois. Because
it's sunk."
Not at all," said Old Riddler, a
'.. little impatiently. Now come, my
good girl, you 'd much better give it
up. You will just hack at the answer
until you make it good for'nothing."
Well, what is it ? said Lois.
I will tell you," said the gnome.
"Now, pay attention to the answer:
Because it has gone down. Don't you
see ?" asked the old fellow, with a gracious smile.
Yes, I see," said the goose-girl, scratching her
head again; "but my answer was nearly as good
as yours." *
Oh, dear me said Old Riddler, that wont
do. It's of no use at all to give an answer that is
nearly good enough. It must be exactly right, or
it's worthless. I am afraid, young girl, that you
don't care much for riddles."
Yes I do," said the goose-girl; I make 'em."
Make them ? exclaimed Old Riddler, in great
surprise.
Yes," replied Lois, I 'm out here all day
with these geese, and I have n't anything else to
do, and so I make riddles. DIo you want to hear
one of them ? "







HUCKLEBERRY Y


Yes, I would like it very much indeed," said
the gnome.
Well, then, here 's one : If the roofs of houses
were flat instead of slanting, why would the rain be
like a chained dog ? "
Give it up," said Old Riddler.
Because it couldn't run off," answered Lois.
"Very good, very good," said the gnome.
"Why, that's nearly as good as some of mine.
And now, my young friend, did n't you feel pleased
to have me give up that riddle and let you tell me
the answer, straight and true, just as you knew it
ought to be ?"
Oh yes said the goose-girl.
Well, then," continued Old Riddler, remem-
ber this : What pleases you will often please other
people. And never guess another riddle."
Lois, although a rough country girl, was touched
by the old man's earnestness and his gentle tones.
I never will," said she.
That 's a very well-meaning girl," said Old
Riddler to himself as he walked away, although
she has n't much polish. I'll come sometimes and
help her a little with her conundrums."
Old Riddler had a son named Huckleberry. He
was a smart, bright young fellow, and resembled
his father in many respects. When he went home,
the old gnome told his son about Lois, and tried to
impress on his mind the same lesson he had taught
the young girl. Huckleberry was a very good little
chap, but he was quick-witted and rather forward,
and often made his father very angry by guess-
ing his riddles; and so he needed a good deal of
parental counsel.
Nearly all that night Huckleberry thought about
what his father had told him. But not at all as
Old Riddler intended he should.
What a fine thing it must be," said Huckle-
berry to himself, to go out into the world and
teach people things. I 'm going to try it myself."
'So, the next day, he started off on his mission.
The first person he saw was a very small girl play-
ing under a big oak-tree.
When the small girl saw the young gnome, she
was frightened and drew back, standing up as close
against the tree as she could get.
But up stepped Master Huckleberry, with all the
airs and graces he could command.
Can you tell me, my little miss," said he,
"why an elephant with a glass globe of gold-fish
tied to his tail is like a monkey with one pink eye
and one of a mazarine blue ?"
No," said the small girl, I don't know. Go
away !"
Oh," said Huckleberry, perhaps that's too
hard for you. I know some nice little ones, in
words of one syllable. Why is a red man with a


green hat like a good boy who has a large duck in
a small pond ?"
Go away said the small girl. I came here
to pick flowers. I don't know riddles."
Perhaps that one was too easy," said Huckle-
berry, kindly. I have all sorts. Here is one
with longer words, divided into syllables. I'l1 say
it slowly for you : What is the dif-fer-ence between
a mag-nan-i-mous ship-mate and the top-most leaf-
let on your grand-mo-ther's bar-ber-ry bush ? "
I have n't got any grandmother," said she.
"Oh, well! Any grandmother will do," said
Huckleberry.
I can't guess it," said the small girl, who was
now beginning to lose her fear of the funny little
fellow. "I never guessed any riddles. I'm not
old enough."
"Very well, then," said Huckleberry, I'll tell'
you what I'll do. Let's sit down here under the
tree, and I '11 tell you one of father's riddles, and give
you the answer. His riddles are better than mine,
because none of mine have any answers. I don't
put answers to them, for I can never tlink of any
good ones. I met a boy once, and told him a lot
of my riddles; and he learned them, and went about
asking people to guess them, and when the people
gave them up, he could n't tell them the answers,
because there were none, and that made everybody
mad. He told one of the riddles to his grand-
mother,-I think it was the one about the pink-
eyed monkey and the wagon-load of beans- "
"No," said the small girl; "the elephant and



-- "_4. 7. .
k i i













-,



THE BOY AND HIS GRANDMOTHER.

the gold-fish was the other part of the pink-eyed
monkey one."
Oh, it don't make any difference," said Huckle-
berry. I don't join my riddles together the same
way every time. Sometimes I use the gold-fish


276


[FEBRUARY,






HUCKLEBERRY.


and elephant with the last part of one-r
sometimes with another, As there's no
don't matter. I begin a good many o
riddles with the elephant, for it makes a
ing. But, as I was going to tell you, thi
one of my riddles to his grandmother,
and she liked it very much; but when
she found out that there was no an-
swer to it, she gave him a good box
on the ear, and that boy has never
liked me since. But now I '11 tell
you a story. That is, it 's like a
story, but it's really a riddle. Father
made it and everybody thinks it's
one of his best. There was once a
fair lady of renown who was engaged
to be married to a prince. And when
the wedding-day came round--they
were to be married in one of the
prince's palaces in the mountains-
she was so long getting dressed-
you see she dressed in one of her
father's palaces, down in the valley-tha
afraid she would be late, so as soon as he
pinned on, she ran down to the stables
wolf-skin on the back of one of the fieri
chargers, and springing on him, she dasl
She was n't used to harnessing horses, a
such a hurry that she forgot all about t
and so, as she was dashing away, she
could n't steer the animal, and he did n'
where near the prince's palace, but gal
and on, and on, every minute taking h
and farther away from where she want
She could n't turn the charger, and she
stop him, though she tore off pieces of he
tried to put them around his nose, but
good. So when the wedding-party had w
waited and waited, the prince got angry
ried another lady, and nobody knows
fair lady of renown went to, although
some people who say that she's a-gallo
and trying to get her veil around the
nose. Now, why was it that that fair 1
nown never married? Answer: Becaus
no bridal. You can say either bri-d-a-I or
because they both sound alike, and if sh
either one of them, she would have been
This is a pretty long riddle, but it's e
mine, because it 's all fixed up right,
answer to it and everything. You like
than mine, don't you ? "
The small girl did not answer, and wheel
berry looked around, he saw that she was
Poor little thing said Huckleberry
himself. I guess I gave her a little too
die to begin with. Her mind is n't former


iddle, and
answer, it
f my best
fine open-
is boy told


yet. But it's pretty hard on me. I wanted to
teach somebody something, and here she 's gone to
sleep. I wish I could find that goose-girl. If father
could teach her something, I'm sure I could."
So he went walking through the fields, and


.. .
A--, -
./ ., ^ -i-







THE FAIR LADY OF RENOWN.

Lt she was pretty soon he saw Lois, standing among her geese,
er veil was who were feeding on the grass.
, threw a Huckleberry skipped up to her as lively as a
est of the cricket.
hed away. Can you tell me," said he, why an elephant
nd was in with a glass globe of gold-fish tied to his tail is like
he bridle, the Lord High Admiral of the British Isles ?"
found she Was the globe of gold-fish all the elephant
t go any- owned ? asked the goose-girl, thoughtfully.
loped on, Yes," said Huckleberry. "But I don't see
er farther what that's got to do with it."
ed to go. Then the answer is," said Lois, without notic-
could n't ing this last remark, because all his property is
r veil, and entailed."
it was no Well, I de-clare cried Huckleberry, open-
aited and ing his eyes as wide as they would go, if you
and mar- did n't guess it! Why, I did n't know it had an
where the answer."
there are "I wish it had n't had an answer," said the
ping yet, goose-girl, suddenly stamping her foot. "I wish
charger's there had never been any answer to it in the whole
ady of re- world. It was only yesterday that I promised Old
e she had Riddler that I would never guess another riddle,
hbri-d-1-e, and here I 've done it It's too bad "
e had had I don't think it is," cried Huckleberry, waving
married, his little cap around by the tassel. It's all very well
easier than for father not to want people to guess his riddles,
with the because they 've got answers and he knows what
it better they are. But I would never have known that any
of mine had an answer if you had n't guessed this
n Huckle- one. If you had had a riddle like this one,
s asleep. would n't you have bean glad to have some one tell
, softly, to you the answer ? "
much rid- Yes, I would," said Lois.
d enough Well, then, my good girl, remember this: If






HOW SIR WILLIAM PIIIPS FOUND THE TREASURE.


a thing gives you pleasure, it's very likely that it
will give somebody else pleasure. So let somebody
else have a chance, and the next time you hear a
riddle that you think the owner has no answer for,
guess it for him, if you can. Good-by "
And away went Master Huckleberry, skipping
and singing and snapping his fingers and twirling
his cap, until he came to a wide crack in the
ground, when he rolled himself up like a huckle-
berry dumpling, and went tumbling and bouncing
down into the underground home of the gnomes.


Get out of the way said he to the gnomes he
passed, as he proudly strode to his father's apart-
ments. I 'm going to make a report. For the
first time in my life I 've taught somebody some-
thing."
When Huckleberry left her, the goose-girl stood
silently in the midst of her geese. Her brow was
overcast.
How 's anybody to do two things that can't
both be done ? she exclaimed at last. '" I'1l have
nothing more to do with riddles as long as I live."


HOW SIR WILLIAM PHIPS FOUND THE TREASURE
IN THE SEA.

BY S. G. W. BENJAMIN.


THERE is scarcely anything more exciting to
the imagination than tales of hidden treasure,
especially treasure lost at sea. The mystery, the
wonder, the adventure, the tragedy, the seemingly
boundless possibilities connected with riches lost by
shipwreck or war, and yet not gone beyond the
hope of recovery, have given rise to a multitude of
romantic stories, some of them pure fictions, but
many founded more or less on fact.
I have known several cases in which treasure lost
by piracy or shipwreck has been recovered after a
century or more. Some years ago a company of
men from Boston made two cruises to the shoals of
the Silver Key on the Bahama Banks, a spot noted
for shipwrecks. They had some clue to a treasure-
laden ship which had foundered there long ago.
The first trip was unsuccessful, but on the second
voyage the wreck was found. Divers, armed with
modern apparatus, spent several days in the quest,
but in vain, until, finally, just as the last diver was
about to give the signal to be drawn up, he leaned
against what seemed only the barnacle-encrusted
end of a beam; but suddenly it gave way, and
numbers of golden doubloons rolled out at his feet.
Considerable sums rewarded further search in the
sand-filled and decaying carcass of the old ship;
but exactly how much was realized is known only
to the discoverers, who kept the matter secret, and
thus evaded paying a great.part of the share due
to the British crown, in whose dominion the treasure
was found.
To Boston also belonged, some two centuries


ago, the celebrated treasure-hunter, William Phips.
He was one of twenty-one sons, and was born at
Woolwich, Maine, in 1651. Of a bold, adventur-
ous spirit, his first and last passion was to follow
the sea, although until he was eighteen years of age
he was forced to tend sheep. He then apprenticed
himself to a ship-carpenter for four years, taking a
trip down the coast now and then, and watching
his chance for the next move. He is said to have
been inspired by an idea that celebrity and fortune
were to be his destiny ; and when his apprentice-
ship was over, he went to Boston and worked at
ship-building for a year, until he had the good luck
to win the favor of a rich widow. Her he married,
and, with the increase of means thus obtained,
Phips launched into various enterprises, which did
not always turn out well. But he never lost faith
in his guiding star, and often told his good wife
that he should yet become commander of a king's
ship, and owner of a fair brick house in the Green
Lane of Boston "-at that time the Beacon Street
of the plucky little town.
Ten years went by, and Phips seemed but little
nearer the realization of his dreams than while
tending sheep on the hill-sides of Maine, when the
prospect suddenly brightened in an unexpected
quarter. This was the time when Spanish and
Portuguese galleons were crossing the ocean laden
with silver from Potosi and diamonds from Brazil.
Pirates aid privateers scoured the seas to rob the
treasure-ships, and great expeditions were sent out
by England in war times for the same purpose.


[FEBRUARY,






HOW SIR WILLIAM PHIPS FOUND THE TREASURE.


The imaginations of men ran riot during this fever-
ish state of things, and people were ready to believe
almost any yarn spun in the forecastle.
Phips was just the man to be moved by such
tales, and, when he learned of a certain rich wreck
on the Bahamas, he at once fitted out a small vessel
and went in search of it. He found and recovered
the treasure, but the amount was small, being only
large enough to whet his appetite for more.
While at the Bahamas, he was told of another
Spanish vessel, wrecked off Puerto Plata more than
fifty years before, with a much larger treasure.
His means not being sufficient for this expedition,
Phips sailed for England and made direct applica-
tion to the Admiralty to aid him in his search. So
ably did this true son of the sea represent his
cause, that he was given command of the Rose
Algier," a ship mounting eighteen guns and carry-
ing a hundred men. Thus Phips's first dream
came to pass ; he was now captain of a king's ship,
with a roving commission.
The exact position of the wreck was unknown,
and the untrustworthy character of the crew added
great difficulties to the undertaking. It should be
remembered, also, that I ..... .I.:. diving-armor,
and the like, were then unknown. But the courage
and indomitable perseverance of Phips now came
into play, and he had a capital chance to show the
stuff of which he was made.
Soon after they had sailed, the crew came aft,
armed, and determined to force Phips to yield to
their wishes, which probably were that they should
all turn pirates. Without giving them time to
deliberate, Phips flew at their leader, hurled him
to the deck and dispatched him on the spot-a deed
so prompt and daring that it awed the mutineers
into submission for the time. One who has never
seen a mutiny at sea can form but little idea of its
desperate character, and the rapidity of action and
unflinching nerve required where men are shut up
alone on the wide ocean with a quarrel so deadly
in its nature that no compromise can be thought
of for a moment, and no quarter can be allowed
with safety to him who gives it.
But the next plot to seize the ship was even more
dangerous. The Rose Algier," being in need of
repairs, was taken to a cove in a small uninhabited
island, and careened on one side in order to reach
the damaged place. Most of the stores were moved
on shore, the ship was hove down, and a bridge
was laid between the deck and the land. Under
the pretense of pastime, most of the crew now
betook themselves to the woods, and there plotted
to return at seven in the evening, seize the ship,
force Phips and eight faithful men on shore, leave
them there to perish, and themselves sail away on
a piratical cruise. But the carpenter was one of the


few who stood by the captain, and yet they could
not risk putting to sea without him. They sent for
him, therefore, on some pretext, and, having him
in their power, offered him the choice of instant
death or of joining his fortunes with theirs. He
begged for half an hour to think about it, and said
that at any rate lie should have to return on board
for his tool-chest. They granted his request, and
sent two men with him to watch his movements.
Soon afterward, he was suddenly taken with a pre-
tended cramp or colic, and in great seeming agony
rushed into the cabin for medicine; there he found
Phips, and in a few rapid words revealed the plot.
in less than two hours the mutineers would be
marching on the ship. Not an instant was to be
lost. Immediately the guns were loaded and
trained to command the shore and all the ap-
proaches to the stores; the bridge was taken in,
and when the mutineers appeared they found
themselves caught. In tones of thunder, Phips
bade them not to stir or he would mow them down
with his batteries; nor did they dare to disobey.
The bridge was again laid down, and the eight
loyal men brought back the stores to the ship.
When all was safely on board again, the mutineers
were told that they were to be left to the fate they
had intended for their commander. In despair at
so terrible a prospect, the miserable men threw
down their arms, and protested their willingness to
submit if Phips would but relent and not sail away
without them. After a long parley, he agreed to
let them come on board, they having first given up
their arms. But, with such a crew, further search
after the treasure was useless. Phips, therefore,
sailed for Jamaica, changed the crew, and again
weighed anchor for Hispaniola. There he was
lucky enough to find an old Spaniard who told him
that the wreck was somewhere about a reef a few
leagues north of Puerto de la Plata. Phips imme-
diately went to the spot. But his search for the
wreck was long and unavailing, the season was
changing, and the "Rose Algier," now but half
manned and in unseaworthy condition, was unfit
to prowl around a dangerous reef in the hurricane
season. So, without having accomplished the object
of so much exertion and anxiety, Phips was obliged
to return to England, a baffled but not a discour-
aged man.
Very naturally, it was impossible for our advent-
urer to obtain another English ship-of-war, al-
though he received much credit for the courage
and skill shown in controlling the mutineers, and
one would conclude that the treasure of the old
Spanish galleon would after this have remained at
the bottom of the sea, the exclusive possession of
the sharks, the turtles and the barracudas. But
with rare pertinacity Phips returned to the charge,


279






HOW SIR WILLIAM HIPS FOUND THE TREASURE.


and at last persuaded the Duke of Albemarle and
several other wealthy noblemen to his views. They
formed a company and obtained a patent from
King James II., giving them the sole right to all
wrecked treasure they might find during a certain
number of years. Then they fitted out a ship and
tender, the'latter to cruise in coves and shoal water.


reef, and the men then rowed slowly in the boat
around it, carefully examining the depths below
for signs of the wrecked gallon. The waters in
the West Indies are very clear, and during a calm
objects can be seen at a considerable depth. The
rocks were of singular form, rising nearly to the
surface, but with sides so steep that any vessel


... .-TI T.- FRO ,,
C- .i. -_ -



CAPT AIN 1'PIlPS I HRI05ATINS 10 SAIL AWAY FROM TIHE MUTINEERS.


and Phips invented several rude contrivances for
dragging and diving, far inferior to the means now
used for such purposes. Thus prepared, he sailed
once more for Hispaniola. There a small, stout
boat was built, and with it and a crew of Indian
divers the tender was despatched to the reef where
the wreck was said to be. The tender was anchored
in good holding-ground at a safe distance from the


striking them would be liable to go down many
fathoms below the reach of the most expert diver.
The only hope was that the wreck might have
lodged on some projecting ledge. But the closest
observation, long continued, failed to reveal any
sign of the object so eagerly sought, although the
water was perfectly calm.
At length, a curious sea-plant cropping out of a


[FEBRUARY,






HOW SIR WILLIAM PHIPS FOUND THE TREASURE.


crevice in the sides of the reef caught the eye of
one of the crew, and he sent down an Indian to
bring it up. When the diver returned to the
surface he reported that he had seen a number of
brass cannon lying tangled among the sea-weed on
a ledge. That was enough. Inspired with the
greatest enthusiasm, diver after diver plunged
below to be the first to discover the treasure, and
ere long one of them brought up an ingot of silver
worth several hundred pounds. Transported with
success they left a buoy to mark the spot, and
made all sail to carry the glad tidings to Phips. He
would not credit the tale until he had seen the
ingot, when he exclaimed, Thanks be to God,
we are all made !"
Every man was at once enlisted in the service of
fishing for the treasure. The bullion was discovered
first; after that, in the bottom of the hold, the sea-
miners found the coin in bags, which had been so
long under water that they were encrusted with a
stony shell, hard as rock. This was broken with
crowbars, revealing gold, jewels, and pieces of
eight," in glittering abundance. The last day's
work brought to light twenty massive silver ingots,
and the whole amount recovered was somewhat
over three hundred thousand pounds, a sum equal
in the values of our time to five millions of dollars.
Nor was this all the riches concealed in the wreck;
but Phips was obliged to return to England before
completing the business. Provisions had run low,
and the presence of so vast a treasure on board had
stimulated the cupidity of the crew to a dangerous
degree, so that each day of delay in reaching port
was full of hazard. Every precaution was taken to
guard the treasure, but what probably prevented
the crew from rising was the promise Phips gave
them, when matters had become most suspicious,
that they should each receive a share of the
profits in addition to his wages, even if his own
portion were thus swallowed up. Phips reached
England without mishap, thus bringing to a suc-
cessful termination one of the most daring exploits
of its sort that were ever attempted.
When the profits were divided, Phips received as
his share a sum that would now be equal to two


hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The Duke of
Albemarle presented Mrs. Phips with a magnifi-
cent gold cup worth fifteen thousand dollars, and
King James expressed great pleasure at the honesty
and ability of Phips in the conduct of such a diffi-
cult undertaking, and as a reward for bringing such
a treasure into England granted him the honor of
knighthood, and offered him important employ-
ment in the royal service. Fortune had indeed
smiled on the shepherd-boy of Maine.
But Phips was never ashamed of his humble
origin, nor in all his wanderings did he forget his
native land. And now, instead of remaining to
enjoy further honors near the throne, he returned
to his family, bearing the important commission of
High Sheriff of New England. He now built the
brick house on Green Lane which he had promised
his wife fifteen years before. The name of this
street was eventually changed to Charter Street, in
memory of his efforts to have the charter of the
Massachusetts colony restored.
Sir William Phips afterward engaged in the wars
between the American colonies of France and
England, and at the head of an expedition of eight
ships captured Port Royal. A subsequent enter-
prise against Quebec failed from a combination of
causes, some of them beyond the control of Phips.
After this Sir William went again to England,
where he was appointed Captain-General and Gov-
ernor-in-Chief of the New England colonies; and
his return home with these new honors and titles
was made the occasion of a day of solemn thanks-
giving.
His governorship having ceased, Sir William
Phips sailed for England, and was meditating a
fresh expedition in search of shipwrecked treasure
when he was taken suddenly ill, and died at the
age of forty-five. While his adventurous career
affords us little hope that any of us will ever, like
him, discover shipwrecked wealth, it gives us a fine
example bf what perseverance combined with intel-
ligence, courage and honesty can accomplish in
the face of great difficulties ; for it was a union of
all these qualities which enabled Sir William Phips
to wrest fortune and honors from the ocean depths.


1t


'U






SOME FISHING-BIRDS OF FLORIDA.




SOME FISHING-BIRDS OF FLORIDA.

Bu MRS. MARY TREAT.


ALL along the St. John's River, during the win-
ter, may be seen birds catching fish for a living.
They are more numerous here in. winter than in
summer, because, upon the freezing of the waters
at the North, they flock to Florida to carry on
their fishing in the St. John's, which, never freezing,
contains an abundance of fish.
The belted kingfisher comes close to the house,
where I can watch him fishing as I sit at the win-
dow. The river is five miles across here, and for
several yards from the shore it is quite shallow, so
that a wharf two hundred and fifty feet long was
necessary to make it easy to launch our small row-
boats. A railing extends along the side of the
wharf, and upon this railing the kingfisher perches,
watching for his prey.
He understands fishing much better than most
boys, for he seldom misses his game. He takes
his position on the railing, and fixes his eyes upon
the finny tribes below, and when a fish that suits
him comes within his range, he dives into the water


1TH11E BELTED KINGFISHER.

and brings it up with his stout beak, and then
beats it upon the railing to make it limp and tender
before swallowing.
It is not so very surprising that he is such an
expert fisher, for during the winter it is his only
occupation; he has no family to look after now,
and he is so very selfish and quarrelsome that he
will not allow any of his brothers to fish near him.
He considers the whole length of the wharf his
I


fishing-post, and his brothers must not trespass
upon his grounds; if they do, he chases them away
with a rattling, clanging noise, enough to frighten
any fisher not stronger than himself.
In the spring he takes a partner in his business,
for now it is time to raise a family, and he knows
he can never do this alone. He is very good and
kind to this partner, and helps her dig a hole in a
clayey bank for the nest, and then takes his turn in
sitting upon the eggs. After the eggs are hatched,
they both catch fish to feed the young until they
are old enough to feed themselves.
The American flamingo, with his gorgeous scar-
let feathers, is a superb fellow. He is very shy,
and peculiarly afraid of man. On account of its
fine apparel, it has been more closely pursued than
almost any other bird. It does not go north like
some of the herons, but Audubon says it has occa-
sionally been seen in South Carolina. Its constant
home, however, is in the southern part of Florida
and along the Gulf coast.
Like the herons, of which I told you in ST.
NICHOLAS for May, 1877, the flamingoes are soci-
able, and live in flocks. They have webbed feet,
which give them an advantage over the herons in
enabling them to swim as well as to wade. I have
never been able to get near enough to these birds
to gain any personal knowledge of their habits.
The nest of the flamingo is a curious affair;
usually built in a marshy, muddy place, in the
form of a mound. It is made of sticks and grass
and mud to the height of two or three feet, with a
hollow in the middle to hold the eggs. The male
is said to assist in the construction of the nest, but
this is probably mere conjecture, for I think no one
living at the present time has been able to get near
enough to these birds to watch their habits, and
their nests can be reached only with great difficulty.
The female lays two white eggs about the size of
those of a goose. It is said that she sits astride the
nest in an ungainly fashion, and that the young, as
soon as they are hatched, take to the water like
young ducks.
If a law only could be passed to protect these
birds, what a grand sight the waters of Florida
would soon present These great, brilliant, scarlet
birds, dallying and playing in the water, or wading
near the shore in quest of game, would be a sight
never to be forgotten. Can it be possible that
Florida does not care for such glorious creatures,
and will allow, year after year, these marauders


[FEBRUARY,






SOME FISIIING-BIRDS OF FLORIDA.


from the North to kill them without a single protest ?
Unless something is done for the protection of
these splendid creatures, they must soon become
extinct; for their range is quite limited, and I fear
the boy and girl readers of ST. NICIOLAS, by the
time they grow to men and women, can only read
of these as gorgeous birds of the past."
Almost every morning, the osprey, or fish-hawk,


before it reaches the water, and carries it to some
retired spot where he devours it.
And now the poor defrauded osprey must go to
work and catch another fish before he can have his
dinner. Here you see the bald eagle with his ill-
gotten prey.
Great flocks of ducks often come to fish in the
shallow water close to the shore. I suppose the


THE iALD EAGLE.


comes in front of the window and fishes in the
shallow water near the house. He does not seem
to be as expert as the kingfisher. I have seen him
dive a dozen times or more into the water before
bringing up his prey. He sails around and around
in the air; at last fixing his eyes upon a fish, he
swoops down, making the water splash around him.
His feet are large and powerful, and lie arranges
his long toes in the form of a scoop as he plunges
into the river; this scoop is his fishing-tackle with
which he brings up his finny food.
I think I should not like to be an osprey, for he
seems to have such a hard time to get a living, and
yet he is an honest, well-disposed laborer. After
he has succeeded in catching a fish, a bald eagle
often swoops down from some tall tree, where he
has been watching him, and by main force compels
this honest fisher to give up his hard-won prey.
The eagle is considerably larger than his victim,
being about three feet in length, while the osprey
is only about two feet.
It is quite a grand sight to see these two large
birds wheeling through the air-the osprey trying
to elude the eagle, diving first one way and then
another, until at last, when he sees the unencum-
bered eagle must overpower him, in a fit of desper-
ation he lets the fish drop, and the eagle catches it


reason that they come so near is that they find
smaller fish here than in the deep water; and
another reason, they are never shot at near the
shore, for no fire-arms are allowed to be discharged
within the town limits, except under the penalty of
five dollars for each discharge.
This place, in winter, corresponds to a northern
watering-place in summer. There is a warm sul-
phur-spring here, and people come from all quar-
ters for health and for amusement. At first the
great numbers of birds all about attracted many
sportsmen, but I am very glad to tell you that the
Florida people did not like this reckless shooting
of birds in their midst, so they made this beautiful
little place-Green Cove Spring-a city, and elected
a mayor and a marshal, and other officers, to keep
the men straight, and to protect the birds.
So this is why the birds that live about this little
city are so tame, and why the ducks come so close
to us; they have learned that they are quite safe
from guns here. *
Several species of ducks may sometimes be seen
in one flock, fishing together in perfect harmony.
It is quite astonishing how long they can stay under
water, and when they come up their feathers are
not wet at all.
The most beautiful of these fishing-ducks is the







NAN'S PEACE-OFFERING.


hooded merganser. Its plumage is most elegant,
and it has a large thick tuft or crest of feathers
covering the whole head, which gives it a sort of
military look; and, indeed, it seems to be a com-
mander, for it leads all of its relatives. It some-


times stays so long under the water that I begin
to fear something has happened,-that an alligator,
or some other huge beast, has got hold of it; but
it always makes its appearance after a while, often
at quite a long distance from where it went under.


NAN'S PEACE-OFFERING.

BY KATE W. HAMILTON.


I JUST wish I was properer, and everything-
so there !" said Nannie, sitting discontentedly down
upon the green grass by the road-side, and survey-
ing herself with a pair of very serious brown eyes.
It was a forlorn little self, surely, with wet
dress, muddy shoes, inky apron, and crumpled
sun-bonnet.
"Aunt S'mantha '11 think I'm dreadful. She
says I never have any forethought; but I have lots
of after-thoughts, and I s'pose folks can't have both
kinds. It don't do any good, either. Oh dear! "
There was a whistled tune coming up the road.
Tommy Grey was attached to it, but the whistle
seemed much the older and more important of the
two, and was first to reach the tree where Nannie
was sitting. When Tommy caught up with it, he
stopped in surprise.
Hello, Nan Verling Is that you ? "
I suppose so, but I wish it was n't," answered
Nannie, dolefully.
What for?" questioned Tommy, in still further
astonishment.
'Cause I wish I was somebody else that was n't
all wrinkled and mussed up. I don't see how folks
can keep nice and have good times, anyway," de-
clared Nan, in a burst of confidence. You see, I
just helped sail boats in the brook, and I did n't
know my dress was wet a bit till I came away; and
then Lizzie Sykes tagged me, and course I had to
tag her back again. I don't know what made her
run right through the mud, where I could n't catch
her without getting my shoes all muddy. Should
think she might have known better My old ink-
stand at school is always upsetting itself, and it had
to spill ohi my clean white apron this afternoon.
Then my sun-bonnet "
Looks as if you 'd hung it up in your pocket,"
suggested Tommy.
Well, I did n't; I only rolled it up for a rag-
baby when we played keep house at recess. I
s'pose it's bad for bonnets, but it made the beau-


tifulest kind of a baby," said Nannie, a little ray
of enthusiasm gleaming through her despond-
ency. But Aunt S'mantha does n't 'preciate such
things," she added, mournfully.
"No," answered Tommy, sympathetically.
" She '11 scold, may be ? "
P'r'aps so. May be she'll send me to bed with-
out any supper."
Whew That a'nt any fun, I tell you de-
clared Tommy. Why, a fellow just tumbles and
tumbles, and gets hungrier and hungrier, and won-
ders what the folks have got for supper, and looks
at the stars, and tries to say 'Hickory-dickory-
dock' backward, and wishes it was morning. It
just feels awful "
I did n't ever try it, and I don't s'pose I could
stand it," said Nannie, shaking dejectedly the curly
head in the flopping sun-bonnet. I've a good
mind not to go home at all, but just run away off
somewhere, and be a foundling. Foundlings have
pretty good times, 'cause I've read about 'em in
books. They get adopted by some great lady in a
big house, and grow up rich, and get to be real
handsome."
I don't believe you would," declared Tommy,
more honestly than politely.
Nan meditated a minute, and then said, with a
sigh :
Well, I guess I'11 have to go home, then."
Scoldings don't last very long, anyway," urged
Tommy, consolingly.
But if you sort o' think you ought n't to have
done things, and did ought to be more careful-
and everything-it makes it seem more worse, you
know," remarked Nannie, in a hesitating, half-
penitent way. "'Cause I do like Aunt S'mantha."
Yes," admitted Tommy, knitting his brow over
the complications of the case, and searching his
own experience for a suggestion of relief. If you
only had something nice to carry home to her-
something she wants. Once I got wet as a rat


[FEBRUARY,







NAN'S PEACE-OFFERING


285


playing round the pond, but I'd caught two fish-
reg'lar tip-top trout-and I took 'em home to
mother; held 'em up where they'd be seen first
thing, you know. And she said, What nice fish !'
and did n't scold a wink."
I could n't catch anything if I tried a week,
and Aunt S'mantha would n't care, anyway. Why,
she's a real grown-up woman, and could have tea-
parties and make molasses candy every day if she
wanted to I don't believe she wants anything,
unless it 's ban-bananas-whatever that is. I
heard her say she'd like some, this morning."
Bandanas ? questioned Tommy, with bright-
ening eyes.
Y-e-s, I guess so," answered Nannie, rather
doubtfully.
Ho I know what they are as well as any-
thing. Why, they're silk handkerchiefs-red and
yellow, with spots on 'em."
Nannie's hand dived into her small pocket, and
re-appeared with two nickels and a copper.
Do you guess I could buy one at Carney's
store for evenn cents ? 'Cause I have n't got any
more."
I s'pose so. Why, yes; handkerchiefs a'nt
much 'count, you know. I always lose mine-only
they a'nt bandanas. I guess women-folks think
more about 'em, though," said Tommy, with the
air of one superior to such trifles.
Nannie was convinced, and started from her seat
with a little sigh of relief.
"I'll go and buy her one, then. And I think
you're a pretty good boy, Tommy Grey," she
added, gratefully, as she trudged down the road,
leaving Tommy to take up his whistling and his
homeward route again.
It was quite a long walk to the store-f/te store,
because the village only boasted one. That did
not matter much to the inhabitants generally, as
the town was so near. Bentleyville and Bentley
were connected by a straggling line of houses that
made it hard to tell where the village ended and
the town began. Ambitious young villagers took
advantage of this to talk about we city people,"
while the older ones contentedly spoke of them-
selves as "plain country-folks."
Nannie did not care in the least which she was,
neither did she greatly mind the walk, though the
feet that had done so much running began to grow
tired. If only she could carry a peace-offering to
Aunt Samantha That would make all right, and
her small world bright again, she was sure.
I can't have any candy or slate-pencils for ever
so long; but I don't care, 'cause I do like her, and
she '11 know it--course she will if I buy her a hand-
kerchief; and she wont think I got all mussed up
on purpose," she soliloquized.


It required some heroism to pass by the fresh
pop-corn balls at the store door, and to turn away
from the boxes of figs without a second glance;
but Nannie did both, and, walking straight to the
counter, made known her errand.
"Bandanas? Yes, a prime lot of 'em," said
bustling little Mr. Carney, bringing out his whole
stock.
His small customer, standing on tiptoe to reach
the counter, gravely examined them. Would Aunt
Samantha like a red one or a yellow one best, she
wondered. It was a perplexing question to decide.
If only she could take her one of each And that
reminded her to ask the price.
Seventy-five cents apiece," said the old gentle-
man, briskly.
Seventy-five-cents !" repeated Nan, faintly.
Yes, sissy ; cheap at that, too."
I-thought-I did n't know," stammered Nan-
nie, in a sore disappointment. Then rallying her
faltering courage, she asked: Don't you ever sell
any for evenn cents ?"
Eleven cents ? Bless me, child! Why, they
cost Oh may be you mean cotton ones?
Look a little like these."
Nan nodded, glad to think it even probable that
she had meant anything.
Well, I don't keep that kind, you see," ex-
plained Mr. Carney, condescendingly.
Discouraged and forlorn, the little woman turned
away. She walked until she was quite out of sight
of the store, and then paused to meditate. What
should she do ? It seemed dreadfully hard to give
up her plan now when she had thought it all nicely
settled. There were plenty of stores in Bentley;
some of them might sell handkerchiefs for eleven
cents. She glanced dubiously along the road lead-
ing to the town, and noticed that the sun was nearly
out of sight behind the hills.
But it stays light ever and ever so long after
the sun sets," she murmured, "and it did n't seem
a bit far when I rode to town with Aunt S'mantha.
I guess this store is most part way. Anyhow, I
just must have a bandana she added, as she
once more caught sight of her soiled apron and
muddy shoes.
She straightened her sun-bonnet, and started
resolutely forward again. She had grown to feel
that the proposed purchase was in some way a
reparation due to Aunt Samantha, and she could
not give it up. On and on trudged the tired little
feet, aching wearily at last, but never hesitating
nor turning back. It seemed a long way, though.
Wonder if I wont ever and ever come to where
the houses get thicker," she murmured. When
I keep a store I'11 build it on the edge somewhere,
so folks wont have to walk so far to get to it."


y878s.







NAN'S PEACE-OFFERING.


After a time, the buildings did nestle more closely
together, and, somewhat comforted, she stopped a
moment to rest. But she started suddenly to her
feet as a light flashed upon her from an opposite
window. People were really beginning to light
their lamps, and the daylight was almost gone.
Weariness was forgot-
ten in the thought that
night might fall before
she could return, and
she ran as fast as her ---
light feet would carry _
her-so swiftly and so -_
far that she had nearly _-
passed a small store with- I
out seeing it. --
She checked her steps I
at this discovery, and
entering, asked, breath-
lessly:
Oh,- please,-have ,11 lill01IllI
you any ban-banners ?" I
What ? any what ?
demanded a severe-look- '. l
ing lady, coming forward
and eying Nan suspici-
ously through her spec- ...
tackles. .
Bandaners, hand- -
kerchiefs," explained
Nannie, less confidently. -
"Bandanas ? No; I
don't keep them," re-
sponded the lady, very '
stiffly.
Should think she
might have been more p'li ., I ,'r ,i ,
right," commented the you, -. I : :i.- 1 !..
ricd along the street once mc.i'. ..,. ': i-,..rl..
This time there was onl i I. ,I i ..
He was head of the establi.il ,., 1I ... 1i,..
prictor went to supper, and .,I !n: ... i -
tant position.
Do you keep ban-ban-1....... .... I. r
nic, growing confused agair,
"W which ? I hope you dc,, i ... ... .1. I. 1 ;.. I
to the flag of your country, 11. ,ril:
No sir; I mean handkerchiefs," said Nannie,
innocently.
"Ah yes, I understand. I think we have the
article in question."
A number of the red and yellow silks were pro-
duced, and while the brown eyes scanned them
in some perplexity, the mischievous young clerk
surveyed the comical little figure before him, and
gravely asked :
Is that quantity sufficient for the exercise of


your predilections ? or would you like an additional
supply ?"
I would like evenn cents worth," stammered
Nannie.
"Eleven cents worth of silk handkerchiefs?
That's a novelty now !" laughed the boy. Why,


Ii


--m
'I. I

I,7_1


-- --." i.-
'5


I 'I



SSEVENTiY-FIVE CENTS APIECE,' SAID THE OLD GENTLEMAN."

you see that would n't be a seventh part of one of
these bits of magnificence,-not a scrap large
enough for a respectable doll. We really could n't
do it, ma'am. The owner of this establishment
has a nonsensical way of always selling his hand-
kerchiefs whole."
Then, at sight of the disappointed little face, his
fun yielded to an impulse of kindness, and from a
far-away corner he produced an old box with the


[FEBRUARY,







NAN'S PEACE-OFFERING.


dust of disuse lying thickly upon it. It contained
some small cotton handkerchiefs, gayly printed,
with border, pictures and verses, in bright colors.
Nannie's eyes brightened. They were much pret-
tier than the others, she thought, and they were
only ten cents She wavered uncertainly between
a pink and a blue one, and finally appealed to the
clerk for advice.
"Which is the nicest? Could n't really say,
ma'am. If you want it for winter use, the blue
would probably match best with your nose; but if
you keep it specially for fits of weeping, the red
might be nearest the proper tint."
Nannie looked at him solemnly, but not under-
standing him in the least: she decided upon the
blue one, and turned away with the precious pack-
age in her hand. It was certainly growing late.
The rosy glow had all vanished from the west, and
one star was peeping out dimly.
"A good deal after supper-time," murmured
Nannie, anxiously. Then, glancing down a side
street, she caught sight of a baker's sign. It was
but a few steps, and she was very hungry, so she
determined to invest her remaining cent in a piece
of gingerbread. Eager to be on her homeward
way she walked rapidly, and this did not suit the
fancy of a large dog in a neighboring yard. He
bounded toward the fence, barking furiously, and
in a moment Nannie discovered that he had pushed
open the gate and was upon the street. She fled
at full speed away beyond the shop and down
another street. At last a corner hid him from
view, and he did not follow her. She dared not
retrace her steps for fear of meeting him, and
she abandoned all hope of a visit to the bakery.
There must be other ways back to the road, though,
she thought, and she wandered up che street and
down another without coming to any building that
looked familiar. She had lost her way entirely,
and grew more and more bewildered as she wan-
dered. The stars came out thickly in the sky,
and it seemed to her that she had been traveling
for hours. Finally she found herself in a quiet,
unfrequented part of the town, and then the brave
little heart failed utterly, and frightened, home-
sick, and terribly weary, she sank down by the
road-side, sobbing bitterly. She did not hear the
sound of wheels, nor notice the horses drawn up
beside her, until some one called :
Hello, little one what's the matter?"
She had heard that neighborly voice too often
not to recognize it now, and she sprang up in wild
delight. Oh, Captain Hoyt Take me home !
Oh, please sir, wont you take me home ?"


"Home, chick-a-biddy ? Why, who-little Nan
Verling, I declare Well, if it is n't lucky that I
did n't sell my apples till late to-day, and am just
going out i How in the world did you get there ? "
I lost my way," faltered Nannie, trying hard to
conquer her tears when she was safely in the
wagon. I came to buy a bandana handkerchief
for Aunt S'mantha."
"Bandana? Well, she'll need it, and a few
cambric ones thrown in, if she don't know where
you are at this time of night," declared the captain,
whipping up his horses.
He was quite right; Miss Samantha was nearly
frantic. She had sent to every house in the village,
and had learned from Tommy how her love of
neatness and carelessly expressed desire for ban-
anas had together worked mischief. But as a visit
to the store revealed the fact that Nannie had been
there and had gone, Miss Samantha could think of
nothing but that most improbable resort,--the
pond; and she had gathered a party with ropes
and lanterns, when Captain Hoyt drove up and
deposited the small maiden in their midst.
I 've got the handkerchief, Aunt S'mantha!
and I 'm so glad; but my clothes are all spoiled,
and I 'm so sorry," began Nannie.
Clothes, child Do you think I care so much
more for your clothes than for you that I want to
hear about them first ? exclaimed Miss Samantha,
with an embrace so long and close that Nannie was
quite astonished.
I did n't know," she answered.
And Miss Samantha said not a word, for she
thought if the child really did not know, there
must have been something wrong somewhere.
She smiled a little grimly when she saw the won-
derful handkerchief, but she laid it away as if it
were a treasure. Nannie had a nice supper and a
good night's sleep, and felt quite bright when
Tommy looked in upon her the next morning.
I had an awful time ; but your way is a real
good one, Tommy, 'cause she did n't scold a bit,"
she informed him, confidentially.
But I guess,-I s'pose,-anyhow, mother says
that the best way to please folks is to do as they
want you to, instead of buying 'em things," said
Tommy, feeling that, as he had led her into trou-
ble, he was in honor bound to give her the benefit
of the moral that had been impressed upon him.
Y-e-s," answered Nannie, rather vaguely.
But, as the weeks went on, and Aunt Samantha
grew so much more gentle that she could n't help
being more careful not to trouble her, she thought
that handkerchief must be a very precious article.







288


III.
I WANDERED about for what seemed to me days
and days, but always cautiously, and never without
some hope of escape. At length, becoming weak,
I suppose, I missed my footing from a ledge of rock
and fell to a great distance. I was stunned and
bruised, but soon recovered; and considering the
course I must have come, and this last terrible
descent, I felt almost sure that I was far below the
surface of the earth, and that I must try to go up,
and must search and search until I should find
some way of ascending. I accordingly moved on,
with greater care than ever, and soon found that I
was in a sort of rocky passage which rose at a slight
inclination. I need not say how this discovery re-
vived my spirits, nor how I was cheered yet more
when, after a time, I came to a level surface again,
and discovered that beyond it the passage con-
tinued as before, but much widened.
Keeping close to the wall of rock on my right, I
slowly ascended in what seemed to me a spiral
curve. Sometimes I would take a step to the left,
to ascertain if I still had a barrier on that side ; by
which I found that there were many openings in
the wall on that side, probably similar to the one
through which I had reached this apparently con-
tinuous passage.
Up, up I went, gaining courage though feeling
weaker and weaker. Having the wall on my right
for so long a time, and seeming to be always
ascending, I began to think that I was in a sort of
circular honey-combed cavern.
It must be borne in mind that my progress was
exceedingly slow, consequent upon the necessity
of feeling my way, step by step, apprehensive of
going over the brink of a precipice in some moment
of undue confidence. How many times I lay down
to sleep, how many times I rose to continue the
task, I cannot tell; but, having been immured so
long, without food and without light, I began to feel
stealing over me a weariness of exhaustion which
required the utmost power of the will to battle.
All this time I kept ascending. Suddenly the
passage seemed to open wide, and, all at once, a
bright light shot into the cavern. For the moment
I was blinded ; a painful sensation struck me across
the brows ; but I determined to behold the light at
whatever cost. I opened my eyes; and now, the
shock of the dazzling brightness having passed
away, I saw the most beautiful effect I had ever
beheld in my whole life.


A ray of sunlight fell in a round spot, bright and
warm, on the wall at the left. It entered by a small
aperture higher up-in the wall at the right. For
a moment I looked around. I stood in a vast,
rock-bound chamber-an immense hall-faintly
illuminated by reflection from the direct sun-ray
which fell upon a vein of quartz, and sparkled,
lively with flitting rainbow-colors. I could see the
openings in the inner wall, many of them a hun-
dred feet high, nearly all very narrow, and for the
most part vertical. On the right, the wall was
unbroken, with the exception of the little hole,
through which the blessed sunlight streamed, in
the pit of a broad, deep, conical sort of depression.
Far behind me, I could just make out the mouth
of the passage from which I had emerged into this
spacious chamber, and before me the opening into
another also adjacent to the wall on my right.
I felt now more assured than ever, for I was cer-
tainly above-ground. For a moment, I forgot my
forlorn condition, and paused to admire the splen-
dor of the scene. A few minutes only, and it was
gone. I lingered. Should I wait to see this lovely
sight renewed? Twenty-four hours must elapse
before the sun's return to the same position. But
would it come to the same point again on the
morrow ? I knew it could not, and that the least
deflection from its course that day would allow no
ray to fall into the darkness of that mysterious
dungeon. I knew, further, that it was either morn-
ing or evening, about nine or three o'clock, by the
direction of the beam of light. This fact was im-
mensely encouraging ; my heart throbbed rapidly;
the blood came tingling to the finger-ends ; I felt a
warmth, an energy, a hope, an animation of spirits
I had not known for a long time. It had all along
been but one unending night, when often I would
wonder whether, outside, under the broad blue sky,
it was then night or day; but now I knew that it
was day.
I soon reached the passage which I had seen
ahead of me, and found it in some places not more
than two or three feet wide. The ascent became
steeper, though not at all difficult, except at one
place, where for about ten yards I was obliged to
use both hands and feet to make sure of not slip-
ping back.
About two hours after passing this point the air
seemed to change; there was a warmth and fra-
grance to it which was very grateful; I fancied also
that I could see somewhat indistinctly.


[FEBRUARY,


THE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.




THE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.

By GUSTAVUS FRANKENSTEIN.






TIE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.


"Surely," I thought, "this seems like coming
to daylight."
Warmer and sweeter grew the air; I could see
the wall of rock on my right; and then I suddenly
encountered a volume of air blown toward me,
charged with a most delicious odor-for it seemed


"WE SAW HIM CLIMBING THROUGH A SQUAD
as if the sweetest perfumes of the earth were min-
gled in that breath of air. I knew I was coming to
the light Another turn, and there before me
were the grand snow-capped mountains suffused
with the last rosy flush of the setting sun !
Oh, indescribable glory !
For a moment, my eyes swept over the horizon,
VOL. V.-20.


-I was far above the earth,-then back to the
beauteous snow in its sunset splendor. The rosy
tinges lifted and vanished, and a cool twilight glow
rested on the mountain summits. I looked upon
the plain below. Far beneath, it lay in the even-
ing shadow, with its thousand fading tints of tropic




Ix











































lE OPENING OF LIGHT." [SEE PAGE 292.
foliage, with one spot of blue, almost immediately
below, in all that mass of verdure-the lake. I
knew then that I was almost exactly above the cave
I had so long inhabited. And Pippity-Grilly-
were they there now ?
I was about to call with all my might ; but what
car could hear at that great distance ?






TIE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.


Three thousand feet at least of space separated
my friends from me. How could I get down that
almost perpendicular rock, and how could they
get up to me ? How could they know that I was
there?
And now the specter of starvation rose up before
me in strongest force. Should I try to find my
way back again ?--once more attempt the dark-
ness ? No no Too precious was the daylight.
It would not do. And what could be gained ? I
could not possibly live to reach the bottom !
The twilight rested serenely on the encircling
range of mountain snow, then faded sweetly from
the darkening sky.
The stars are beacons of hope and faith. Under
them I lay down and slept.
It was a refreshing slumber that I had beneath
an unclouded sky, and when I awoke it was early
dawn. The cool air was grateful; and so charm-
ing seemed all nature that I forgot my hunger and
the isolation of my position. I began, too, to ex-
amine the situation. I had emerged from the
cavern into open day by reason of the sudden termi-
nation of the wall which I had had so long on my
right. There was left the inner wall as before,
now exposed and forming the exterior of the
mountain. I stood on a platform of rock about
four feet square. Beyond was an angle in the wall,
and just then a step to a higher grade of flat rock
also. Then a considerable steepness of the narrow
floor, and a bending to the left, when it was lost to
view behind the mass of perpendicular rock. As
the sun rose, I looked down toward the lake, which
seemed to lie almost directly beneath, so nearly
perpendicular was the mountain on that side.
About six or seven hundred feet below me, I
observed a bird flying from point to point up the
mountain. Soon it disappeared from view. It had
flown to the other side. Presently it re-appeared,
still circling and rising, now perching at one point,
and now at another higher up, then passing out
of view again. At length it seemed to come more
directly upward; it rose more rapidly, and was con-
tinually in sight.
It was a parrot. I heard its cry. I could see it
distinctly.
Pippity, Pippity I cried, is that you ?"
He gave one joyful scream, alighted on my
shoulder, and then on my hand, talking as fast as
his tongue could run: How d' ye do ? How d' ye
do? Frank, Frank !"
"Food, food, Pippity I begged; and before
I had finished the words he flew down the abyss,
screaming as he went. I followed him with my
eyes until the precipice below prevented my seeing
him any longer.
It seemed to me a full hour before he re-appeared,


and as he came nearer I saw something in his beak.
It was a bunch of grapes. He flew toward me. I
held out my hand to receive him, and with a heart
full of thankfulness I took the precious fruit from
his beak.
Thank you, thank you, Pippity !" I said. But
Pippity did n't wait for such little expressions of
civility. Immediately, he flew away again, and
soon returned with other fruits, and nuts of various
kinds ; and, as he could bring but little at a time,
of course I could eat but little at a time, which was
a happy circumstance, for that is just the way a
starving man should eat.
In about four or five hours I told Pippity I had
had enough.
And now, Pippity," said I, tell me,-how
long have I been away ? "
He promptly answered, Three days "
Are you sure ? "
Three days-one, two, three."
I was almost sure he was right. But how the
bird had found me I could not make out. I ques-
tioned him in many ways, but could get no satis-
factory answer. By my not returning the day I
went down into the hole, and not the next, no
doubt my friends began to be alarmed for my
safety, and set to work to find me, if possible.
What Grilly did in the matter I could not conject-
ure; but Pippity, being able to fly, probably made
excursions round the mountain, thinking that I
might possibly come out at some place, and hoping
thus to be able to find me and come to my relief.
During the afternoon, Pippity made a number
of trips down into the fertile plain, every time
bringing back something good to eat, whilst I
rested quietly, amusing myself with looking at the
pleasant scenery that everywhere surrounded me,
talking with Pippity whenever he was present, and
sometimes sleeping pleasantly.
A short time before sunset, Pippity took his last
flight down, and, not long after the sun had dis-
appeared, I saw him returning in the beautiful
twilight. Again he brought me fruit.
Go down to Grilly now," I said ; I will stay
up here until morning, and then you. come to me
again."
But Pippity did n't want to leave; and I told
him that as he was so desirous of keeping me com-
pany, he might remain with me through the night.
The next morning, at the first glimmering of
dawn, I awoke, feeling well, hearty and cheerful.
Pippity was off immediately to bring me breakfast,
and about ten o'clock we set out in high spirits to
make further ascent of this singular peak. All
went well for about an hour, when, Pippity being
absent after food, I came to a place in the rock
where the walk suddenly ended. A little further


[FEBRUARY,







THE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.


on and higher up it was as good as any part I had
yet gone over; but the intervening space of scarcely
more than a dozen feet was very steep, and, what
was remarkable, loose stones lay upon its surface
as though they had slid down from above. This
slide seemed to have been occasioned by a softness
of the rock in that part, causing it to scale off in
thin pieces, which the slightest disturbance would
send rattling down the mountain. Just beyond
these loose stones was a smooth surface of very
steep rock, over which it would be necessary to
pass in order to reach the path beyond.
I paused here; and after Pippity had brought
the fruit and I had finished my dinner, I began
seriously to discuss the question whether or not I
ought to attempt the passage of this dangerous
interval. Pippity seemed to understand my inten-
tions quite well, for he grew very uneasy, and in
his queer ways, with snatches of singularly appli-
cable speech, he remonstrated most strenuously.
But we now were not very far from the top, and so
fascinating seemed the prospect of reaching the
very pinnacle, that I could not withstand the im-
pulse of making the effort to get there. Over the
loose stones I scrambled, clinging with hands and
feet as best I could, whilst an avalanche of rocky
fragments slid, tumbled, and rattled ominously
down the declivity.
I got my hands upon the smooth rock, but at
my feet the loose stones were slipping rapidly
away; this, in a moment more, would leave me
without support and mercilessly let me follow them.
But Pippity, who had been flying around me in the
greatest excitement, got just above me, and plant-
ing his toes firmly against the rock, seized me by
the shoulder. Then, holding on with a most deter-
mined grip of his bill, he pulled like a Trojan;
and I do verily believe the bird saved my life. By
dint of his pulling and backing upward, seconded
by my own frantic efforts to shuffle up the rock, I
succeeded in gaining the foothold beyond. At
least he inspired me with fresh resolution and con-
fidence in helping myself.
After a little rest, we went on, winding around a
succession of short spirals, and at last reached the
highest point of this magnificent mountain !
a *
What a sensation !
Perched here on the extreme point of a pinnacle
more than four thousand feet above the vast plain
of rich fertility embosomed among the snow-clad
mountains. The lake was a spot of beautiful blue,
a gem in the center of this lovely picture.
Suddenly, we heard a rattling of stones beneath,
then a shriek.
Stars What 's that ?-GRILLY "
And up he came bounding, as lively as a cricket.


He danced around us in the greatest delight, threw
his arms around me, ran wildly here and there,
and danced and danced again.
Grilly, Grilly shrieked the parrot, how in
the world did you get up here ? "-and his staid
demeanor contrasted strangely with the monkey's
antics.
But Grilly danced and danced. The fact was
that, even if he could have spoken, he was too
much excited to make reply. Grilly was great in
action; in words deficient.
The afternoon was now far advanced ; and Grilly
at last becoming tranquil, and in keeping with the
peaceful scene around us, I said to him:
"How you came up here I do not know; but
of this I am certain, that you were not as long get-
ting up as I was, for you arrived fresh and active,
whilst I was almost dead. Now, that makes me
think that although I cannot find the way back,
you may. Therefore, you shall be guide. But it
is too late to start to-day. Besides, I wish to behold
another sunset from this glorious height."
The night was very pleasant; and as I lay upon
a flat rock, looking out upon the stars from my
high and silent perch, the round earth looming
like a shadow far below me, I thought it would be
delightful to make a long stay on this interesting
pinnacle, especially at this time, as the weather
was very fine; but the getting of food presented
itself as an obstacle. As Grilly was now with us,
it would be too great a tax on Pippity to supply us
both. Besides, we could not do without water. I
resolved, therefore, to set out early in the morning,
and that I would re-enter that dungeon, as there
was clearly no other way of getting down.
Before the sun was up, we already were descend-
ing; and when we arrived at the'dangerous slide,
where the day before I had nearly slipped off the
mountain, we halted. Pippity was dispatched for
food, whilst Grilly and I sat down and contemplated
the sunrise splendor. Four times Pippity descended
to the plain, and brought thence something to eat.
Noon was fast approaching, and it behooved us, if
we would accomplish anything that day, to press
forward without delay. As before, Pippity showed
considerable anxiety, calmly remarking, however,
as I translated his jargon, that he would, as on the
previous day, hold fast to my shoulder with his bill.
He made Grilly get down below at the same time
and hold on to my feet; and when I began to
crawl and wriggle along the best way I could, I was
assisted very materially by the parrot above and
the monkey below.
Notwithstanding the perilous situation, I could
not but be amused at the ludicrous singularity of
the performance.
Above stood the sure-footed bird, all gravity,






TIIE TOWER- MOUN TAIN.


pulling away at my shoulder; below was the mon-
key, holding me fast by the heels, jumping and
capering as the treacherous stones rolled from under
him. Of course, in less than a minute the whole
thing was over, and I was safely landed on a good
broad walk.
We arrived at the opening of the dungeon.
Descend into it ? Again be lost-perhaps perish ?
I hesitated. I shrank from entering; and yet,
down into it I must go !
Pippity," said I, to my trusty parrot, we will
linger here another day. You must bring us all
the food you can between this and night; and
to-morrow morning, with the first peep of dawn,
be ready to go down again, and make as many
trips before noon as you can, so that we shall be
able to undertake that dark and uncertain journey
with at least a small quantity of provisions."
Grilly ran in and out of the dark passage quite
frequently, both that evening and the next morn-
ing, evidently evincing a desire that the descent
should be made without delay, which convinced me
that he had come through all the darkness which
yet lay between us and deliverance.
The sun had reached the zenith when I at last
bade farewell to the light and resolutely determined
to proceed.
Good-bye, Pippity We shall meet you below.
Fly down, get everything ready for our reception,
and have the table well supplied with the choicest
fruits that you can find."
But Pippity clung to me, and would not leave.
I will go with you I want to go !" implored
the bird.
No expostulation could deter him from accom-
panying us.
Grilly led the way ; and when we lost the light,
he squealed and chattered, and frequently ran back
to make sure that Pippity and I were following him.
I kept close to the wall on my left. We passed over
the steep place. Still I kept close to the wall.
The wall was on my left-still on my left. We
were going at a pretty pace, as the monkey was
continually urging us forward. We could not go
fast enough for him. All at once he squealed
significantly. He ran back to me. He took hold
of my hand, and leading me slowly forward a few
paces, I found there were three diverging passages.
He drew me into the middle one. Then we re-
sumed our quick gait, and, for some little time, all
appeared to be plain sailing again.
It may be asked, why did I allow myself to be
guided by a thoughtless monkey ? But here, in
this darkness, was not reason entirely at sea ?
Might not instinct be superior to reason and avail
something? I abandoned myself entirely to its
mysterious power. I had faith in it. Grilly pro-


ceeded with such confidence that I could not but
trust him.
We had been plodding our way through the
darkness for about four hours, I thought, when
Grilly gave a loud shriek, and, running back to
us, led us hurriedly forward; light became faintly
visible; we ascended a few steps through a very
narrow passage ; we came abruptly to a stop ; the
monkey grasped something that hung down from
above, and sprang upward with the agility of his
nature. We saw him high above our heads climb-
ing through a square opening of light. Imme-
diately, he was descending again.
Why, Pippity," I cried, "we are at the bot-
tom Up there is our palace "
Of course it is shrieked the parrot, in a tone
which sounded more like a shout of joy than the
voice of a bird; and, clinging to one of a number
of long grass stems that could now be distinctly
seen hanging from the top, he climbed up with bill
and claws as handsomely as any parrot ever did
the like, crying as he went:
Come along, Frank We're all right "
Grilly was now down, too; and, reaching me his
hand, he would fain have tried to pull me to the
top. But I gave him to understand that I could
very well take care of myself, and up I went by
means of hands and feet-the monkey all capers,
the parrot all talk, the man thankful-and when we
stood in our grand old palace once more, three more
thoroughly delighted creatures never were seen.
A Now, Pippity and Grilly," said I, "bring some-
thing to eat. Search our broad garden for the
best. Let us eat and be merry. While the light
yet glows, let us enjoy ourselves."
Away went the faithful animals. When they
were gone, I walked forth and stood under the
beautiful trees, surrounded by all the adorning
verdure. How glad was I to be once more on the
ground, once more in the world !
Presently, I saw Pippity and Grilly returning.
The latter had an immense load of luscious fruit
strung over his back, besides what he dragged after
him in a large basket. It may well be imagined
that we had a most delightful meal.
After this, I made frequent visits to the top of
the pinnacle, always taking Grilly with me, Pip-
pity, as a general thing, being content to take the
short cut and meet us at the aperture above.
But before taking these trips, I made Grilly
stretch a line of the long silken cords (which we
found in abundance) from one end of the dark
passage to the other, so that I could find my way
back, if the monkey should fail me. I also used
strong ropes, made of these strands, to get over
the dangerous slide.
These trips afforded us an agreeable diversion.


[FEBRUARY,






THE TOWER-MOUNTAIN.


We had now, it might be said, entire command of
our mountain palace-our magnificent hall below
and our splendid look-out above. Months passed
away in this happy abode. Sometimes we visited
the distant mountains, ever exploring, ever learn-
ing, ever rejoicing; but always returning to our
happy home with a renewed relish of its rare com-
forts and matchless advantages.
During one of the excursions to the neighbor-
ing mountains,-Pippity alone accompanying me,
Grilly having gone to assemble his tribe for a fresh
supply of cocoa-nuts,-we were leisurely contem-
plating the great expanse of loveliness that lay be-
fore us, in the center of which our noble dwelling
loomed up superbly.
What a splendid domain is ours I said to
Pippity. We have everything that man need
wish,-and, for that matter, parrot or monkey
either. How bountiful, here, is nature, and withal
so beautiful! And our palace Was ever any-
thing in the world like it ? "
As the parrot made no answer, I looked toward
him, for I was certain that he would join in praise
of all our precious blessings.
There was a troubled look about him. His
wings moved convulsively. The feathers stood
ruffling from his body. He was in a state of the
greatest agitation.
I was alarmed. What's the matter, Pippity ?"
I cried. But Pippity replied only with a succession
of loud shrieks growing ever louder and louder.
The air had become as still as death.
My body appeared to move from side to side.
No, no I The ground was rising, falling! It
seemed no longer solid. Like a wave it rose and
fell. The foot-hills below us separated, reft into
awful chasms. I looked toward our home. Just
then cried Pippity :
"Oh, our palace! Our palace "
"Ah, ah! It falls! It falls! See, see, how
the huge rocks rive and crumble "
What a fall was there A crash that echoed
terribly in that circle of mountain wildness !
A cloud of dust rolled in fearful mockery where
one moment before had stood the proud pinnacle.
An enormous mass of rocks fell into the lake below,
and the vapors rose in a rival cloud. High in the
firmament they curled and twisted, their wreathing
forms together telling a woful tale of destruction.
We forgot our own danger in watching all our
grandeur dashed to nothingness.
Destruction as it was, it was grand !
But Grilly! Where was he? Ah, Grilly,
Grilly cried I, I fear he is lost "
"Come, come said Pippity. Where's
Grilly? Find Grilly Quick, quick !"
But there was some rough country to get over.


Gaps, masses of uprooted trees, rocks, earth and
vegetation mingled in confusion.
At last we arrived at home-no, not home!
Nothing but a heap of ruins !
And where was Grilly ? We searched, but found
him not. We called, and called again; but an-
swer there came none.
Pippity, with a shrill and deafening cry uttered
ceaselessly : Grilly Grilly Grilly i Grilly !"
But answer there came none.
And all the next clay we sought, and still poor
Pippity cried, "Grilly Grily !"
But the dead, the lost, answer not.

A home we had no longer. Where once stood
magnificence, ruin now stared us in the face.
Pippity!" I said to poor Polly, we will leave
this once glorious spot. Our home is desolate. It
is home no longer. Let us seek new scenes in
other lands."
Where shall we go ? asked Pippity-and if a
parrot could shed tears he would have shed them.
We will go to the abodes of men. We will
go among civilized people."
I, too, Frank. I, too! Call Gr--- "
Say no more, Pippity Strive to forget."
For seventeen days we traversed the mountains,
picking up a scanty subsistence by the way. Pip-
pity was considerably frightened by the condors
that really seemed to threaten us when we reached
great elevations; and I was astonished at the re-
mains of the once stupendous works of the ancient
dwellers in this land. Bridges stretching from
mountain to mountain, over immense, deep val-
leys, attested the knowledge and power of that sin-
gular race.
Later, we began to meet people ; a hut here and
another there, with miles between. Pippity was
quite at a loss to know what to make of such per-
sons as we met. When two or more happened to
be conversing together, it was utterly incompre-
hensible to him how they could understand one
another. (
What jargon is this ?" he evidently tried to say,
" that these people are all the time jabbering ? It
is nothing but an unmeaning chattering of mon-
keys. Can it be possible that they know what they
are babbling ? And you understand that gibberish,
too ? "
I had taught Pippity no language but my own,
and it was no wonder that he was surprised when
he heard people so like me .1i ;-. quite differently.
We soon reached the sea-coast; and if Pippity
was surprised at what he saw in the towns and
cities, the citizens, many of whom were familiar
with the English tongue, were still more surprised
at his wonderful gift of language.






GIFTS FOR ST. NICHOLAS.


My own appearance until I bought myself some
decent clothes, created quite a sensation among
the people I met. During my long stay in my
mountain home, I had been obliged to mend and
darn my garments with the fibers of plants until
there was scarcely a vestige of the original fabric re-
maining; and I looked like a veritable scarecrow.
But I was not poor. In a little, home-made
wallet, I carried a small handful of diamonds,
which I had, from time to time, found in my wan-
derings about the Tower-Mountain. These now
did me good service. I easily converted them into
money, which gave me the means of living and
traveling as I pleased.
We took ship, Pippity and I, and sailed away to
my old home in the north. On the voyage, the
gifted bird was the hero of the vessel. Ladies,
gentlemen, children, and even the officers and crew
of the ship, were glad to gather around him and
talk to him. No such parrot had any of them seen
before. I had magnificent offers made to me, if I
would consent to sell him, but I refused them all,
and, after awhile, Pippity himself relieved me of
the duty of declining to sell him. When an offer
of purchase was made, he would say, I can't be
bought "-or, if the proposal came from a lady,
" Madam, your offer is most respectfully declined !"


At last we reached my native city, and here a
great misfortune happened to me.
In walking about the streets with my parrot,
Pippity was constantly obliged to inhale the fumes
of tobacco. He could not endure it, and frequently
asked me in his own fashion why people persisted
in puffing such sickening smoke from their mouths.
I explained the matter to him, but he never could
see any sense in it. It was known on board the
ship that Pippity disliked the fumes of tobacco, and
he was such a general favorite that no one smoked
in his presence.
But in the city streets he met with no such con-
sideration. He was incessantly compelled to breathe
tobacco smoke, and it made him ill. In a very few
days he was seized with a painful choking sensa-
tion, caused by the irritation of the smoke, and in
a short time he died. His last words were:
That detestable tobacco "
And so I lost this good friend. I had his skin
stuffed, and presented it to our society of natural
history.
There were people to whom I told this story of
my adventures who did not believe me, but I was
always sure they would have credited my word if
only I had had my monkey and my parrot with
me to corroborate the truth of my strange history.


THE END.


GIFTS FOR ST. NICHOLAS.*

BY EMMA E. BREWSTER.


GRIEVE not, 0 Santa Claus, who fills
Each stocking, box and tree;
Nor think, most desolate of saints,
None bring good gifts to thee.

We place no candles in thy crypt,
No gold upon thy shrine,-
Thou bringest us the frankincense,
The tapers and the wine.

But rarer gifts, good Nicholas,
Than these, thy children bring,
When up and down an echoing world
The Christmas bells all ring.

We bring our brightest, truest lcve
To crown thy happy brows;
No monarch wears a coronet
So light as holly-boughs.


We bring our gayest, fairest hopes,
With smiling memories spun;
So rich a robe has never shone
Earth's proudest king upon.

We bring our trust, our childhood faith,
And place it in thy hand;
No jeweled scepter has such power
To rule on sea or land.

Then stay, 0 dear St. Nicholas I
Look on thy heaped-up shrine;
Our hearts, our hopes, our memories,
Our trusts, our faith are thine I

There's not in all the calendar
One saint whose altars shine
With such gay throngs of worshipers,
Such precious gifts, as thine!


A An answer to Left Out," published in the December number.


[FEBRUARY,





1878.]


ONE or two of the following games of marbles
may be known to the readers of ST. NICHOLAS, but
we think they all will be new to a great many boys.

THE ARCHED-BOARD COUNT-GAME.
A strip of board, half an inch thick, five inches
wide, and twenty-two inches long, has notches cut
in one side, two inches wide at the bottom, and


1' /i/


'-4:
/. __ / / -
/ / / -J / ,_/ /


tapering as shown. Short bits of board nailed
upon each end keep the strip upright. Then it is
placed upon the floor within two feet of the wall.
Each player is provided with the same number of
marbles (from three to five, or as many as the
players wish), and from the opposite side of the
room he rolls at the board, the object being to roll
through the arches, which have numbers immedi-
ately above them in the manner shown. The one
making the most counts after rolling all the mar-
bles is entitled to one game. Or, if you have but
five or six marbles, each party rolls the whole num-
ber by himself, and should there be a tie between
those who make the highest aggregate number,
they must roll again, the one then having the high-
est tally winning the game.

THREE-ARCH DISCOUNT-GAME.
This board is as wide and thick as the other,
but is only eighteen inches in length. The center
arch is four
-4, -- inches wide,
:. ',- the two small
"' ones three
inches each. In playing, each boy rolls from four
to ten marbles each, every marble that passes under
the center arch counting forty; if the marble goes
through either small arch, twenty is deducted from
the count, or, as the boys say, is counted off" each
time. So, if you are not a good shot, it is likely
you will lose more than you will gain. In this, or
the previous game, if you fail to pop your marble
through any arch, it is lost.

THE TEN-BLOCK COUNT-GAME.
You are to make ten blocks of wood, each about
one inch square; upon one side of each you mark


the figure o; on the other sides the numbers o1, 20,
30, 40, and 5o, the 50 being upon the side oppo-
site the o. The blocks are placed upon the floor
or carpet in the form -- i
of a half diamond, as -
shown. The o in each ---. -
case being placed up- .''
ward, each player rolls -
four marbles singly at
the blocks, the object ;r I
being to hit as many of-
them as possible. When done, count the numbers
on the upper sides of all the blocks, and replace
them for the next player. It is a lively game.

SWINGING-BLOCK COUNT-GAME.
This is but a modification of the block-game just
described. A common pin or tack is driven partly
into one side of a block, which is connected by a
string with a little strip of wood above. Instead of









making side-pieces for supports, two chairs can be
used, letting the strip rest upon the seat or lower
rounds. Each block has the same number upon
every side, and is hung so that the bottom is
about one-quarter of an inch from the floor. When
a marble strikes a block it swings a little and soon
is quiet. This saves considerable work in replacing
overturned blocks. For each block hit, tally the
number upon it.
CIRCLE-GAME.
Mark upon a piece of paper three rings, the
largest from eight to fifteen inches in diameter, the
other two considerably smaller. Within the rings
mark the numbers lo, 20, and
50, as shown. Lay this paper
upon the carpet or floor, and
roll your marbles, the object 10 20 50 2o 10
being to have them stop upon
the paper and as near the center
as possible, each person to let his
remain where they stop until all
of his be rolled. Should a marble rest on a. line, tall)
for it the number in the largest circle adjoining.


SOME IN-DOOR GAMES AT MARBLES.




SOME IN-DOOR GAMES AT MARBLES.

BY L. D. SNooK.






296 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


TOMMY'S


F i Ii i


THREE HORSES.


THE first is a pony without any head;
'T is a wonder, indeed, how the creature is fed.


The second,
Very gentle


you see, is a steady old chair;
is he, and he needs little care.


^^7: -'-
-- --- --.,',_,*



And here is another-the third one, of course;
But the driver's Tom's brother, and Tom's his own horse.


l~i~5~P-


[FEBRUARY,





1878.] FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS. 297


THE CHICKENS THAT WOULD NOT BE TAME.

IN a small village there lived an old woman who kept poultry. One
day this old woman went to see a little girl, who had some chickens which
were so tame that they would eat corn and crumbs out of her hand.
"That's nice," said the old woman; I shall teach my chickens to do that."
So she went home, and got some corn and some crumbs, and went
out into the yard and called the chickens; but they would not come to her.
They were afraid of her, because she used to shout at them, and throw
sticks at them, every time they came
into the garden, or near the house._ ,
When she saw that her chickens. .
would not eat out of her hand, this '
old woman was very angry, indeed. -"
You bad chickens!" she said,
"I'll catch you and make you eat -
out of my hand." So she ran after il",.
them and tried to catch them, but .-' '
some ran one way and some another, .
and she could not lay hold of any '.
of them.
The next day she went again to .-__
the house where the tame chickens '- i. -'-
were, and this time she saw the little -
girl's mother, and told her about the
trouble she had, and how her chickens would not let her come near them.
I don't see why they are not nice, gentle chickens like those your
little girl has," said the old woman.
Well," said the little girl's mother, perhaps they would be tame if you
had always treated them as well as my little girl treats her chickens. She
has been kind and gentle with them ever since they came out of their
shells, and they have learned not to be at all afraid of her. But I think I
have seen you throwing sticks at your chickens and chasing them about
the yard. If you do that, they cannot help being afraid of you, and they
will never come to you and eat out of your hand."
What the little girl's mother said was very true, and if any of you have
birds or animals which you wish to tame, you must always treat them so
kindly that they will never have any reason to be afraid to come to you.






[FEBRUARY,


298 JAC K-IN -THE-PULPIT.


ALC IN -T i -iL 1 U LPi T.


THIRTY days has September, April, June and
November; all the rest have forty-three, except
February, which is leap-year every four months."
I may not repeat this correctly, but I heard a little
boy saying something of the kind. Perhaps you
all know the jingle better than I do, so I'11 say no
more about it.

NATURE'S PADDLE-BOATS.
A LITTLE bird has told me such a strange thing !
It's about a kind of jelly-fish which he called a
" Globe-Beroe," I think ; but you can find out for
yourselves, if I caught the name aright or not.
This jelly-fish looks like a tiny ball of the clearest
ice. All around it, much after the fashion of the
lines of longitude on a geographical globe, are
eight bands a little less transparent than the rest
of the body. On each of these are thirty or forty
small paddles, in shape like the floats upon the
paddle-wheels of a steamboat; and it is by means
of these that the little creature pushes itself along
in the water. The paddles are alive, and move either
swiftly or slowly, one at a time or all together.
Not only can this natural paddle-boat send itself
along, but it can also cast anchor. It puts forth
very fine threads, which gradually lengthen, unfold-
ing from their sides transparent tendrils like those
of a vine. These catch hold of and twine around
some fixed thing, and moor the craft; and when
the Beroe is about to be roving again, they unwind
themselves, and all slip quietly back into the little
ice-ball out of sight.
There are countless millions of Beroes in the
Arctic regions, where the sea is in some parts
colored by them for miles and miles. If there were
not such immense fleets of these tiny paddle-boats
there would be little chance for us to wonder at
them, because they choose for their moorings just
the places where whales love best to feed and play


their rough games, and where, too, their own pres-
ence in the sea makes it into a kind of soup of
which whales are very fond.

TINY TREES.
ONLY think of trees, full-grown trees, so small
that several of them,-roots, stems, branches and
all,-piled one above another, would not be as tall
as I am !
What kind of birds would stoop to roost in such
little, little trees, I 'd like to know ?
They tell me that such tree-lings do really grow,
away up, on high mountains, near where the snow
stays all the year through, and also in very cold
countries near the polar circles.
I do hope the words polar circles will bring
clear ideas to you, my dears. They 've quite tan-
gled up my notions. Wont some of you explain
the things to me ?

BIRDS AND TELEGRAPH-WIRES.
THE Little Schoolma'am has been talking about
snow-birds, and she says there was a poem about
them in ST. NICHOLAS for April, 1875, and also a
picture of the dear little fellows comfortably perched
on a telegraph-wire, out in Colorado, somewhere.
I dare say you 'll remember them, my chicks.
Well, she went on to say that telegraph-wires
are not always such good friends to birds, for she
had heard that, along the great railroads in the
West, large numbers of prairie-chickens are killed
at certain seasons of the year by flying against the
wires. Sometimes this may happen in the dark,
but more often in the day-time when the wind is
very strong.
Of course, this can't very well be helped; but it
does seem dreadful, does n't it, my dears ? How-
ever, the section-men, who have charge of the
railroad tracks, get some good from it, for they
make a regular business of gathering the fallen
birds, which are then cooked and eaten.

WALTON'S KITTY AGAIN.
DEAR JACK: A while ago I. told in ST. NICHOLAS something
about "Walton's Kitty," that loves music and climbs upon any one
who sings to her, putting her head as close as can be to the lips of
the singer. Now, here is another true story about this same cat:
In the summer, Walton's aunt used to set the milk in a cool closet,
in a pitcher with a long, narrow neck, but day after day, when tea-
time came, every drop of that milk was gone. Nobody drank it,
nobody used it, nobody spilled it. "Walton's Kitty" and all her
descendants were clear of suspicion, because of the long, narrow
neck of that pitcher. So everybody watched and waited to find out
how the milk went.
And this is what they saw: There sat Walton's Kitty," dipping
her paw deep down into the pitcher, taking it out, and then lapping
the milk from it! If she dropped the smallest drop, she stopped and
cleaned that up, and then went on. As the milk dwindled to the
bottom of the pitcher she shook her paw around; and she never left
off until every drop of milk was gone i
Since then, the milk for tea stands in a covered pitcher, but "Wal-
ton's Kitty" has hers in a tall, narrow goblet. It is a very affecting
sight, and people laugh till they cry as they watch her.-Yours truly,
MI. B. C. S.
FLINT ONCE WAS SPONGE.
You never would think it, would you, my dears?
But the Little Schoolma'am says that it was; and
she always is right.
She says that flint really is nothing more nor less






JACK-IN- TIHE-PU LPIT.


than sponge turned to stone. Once the sponge
grew at the bottom of the sea, as other sponges
grow now; but that was ages and ages ago, and
since then the sponge, turned to flint, has lain
covered by rocks and earth of many kinds piled
thick above it. Seen with a microscope, flint shows
the make of sponge in its fibers; and sometimes
you can see, bedded in it, the shells of the tiny
creatures on which the sponge had fed. Now and
then, inside a flint, will be found bits of the sponge
not yet changed.
That last proof settles it; but I must say it 's
hard to believe ;-hard as the flint, almost.

SOME OLD PUZZLES.
HERE are two letters, with old puzzles in them,
that may amuse you for a while on one of these
shivery evenings, my chicks. I 'll tell you the an-
swers next month.
Michigan.
DEAR JACK-IN-TIIE-PULPIT : The other night one of my brothers
said he did not believe we could pronounce a certain word after he
should have spelled it. I will tell you what it is, though you may
have heard about it already :
A cross, a circle complete,
An upright where two semi-circles do meet,
A triangle standing upon two feet,
Two semi-circles, a circle complete.
Yours truly, CORA.
Oswego, N. Y.
DEAR JACK: I send you a riddle which I found. I take ST.
NICHOLAs and like it very much. I have all of the volumes fiom
1874.
I am a word of plural number,
A foe to peace and human slumber,
Yet, do but add the letter S,-
Lo what a metamorphosis !
What plural was, is plural now no more,
And sweet 's what bitter was before.
Yours truly, KITTIE.

Talking about riddles, reminds me of one that
was made by Richard Whately, an archbishop of
Dublin, as i've heard. This is it:

When from the Ark's capacious round
The beasts came forth in pairs,
Who was the first to hear the sound
Of boots upon the stairs ? "

I'm told that it never has been guessed right by
anybody; yet the archbishop said there was an
answer, although he did not say what it was. May
be you can solve the riddle, my dears, if you brush
up your wits a bit? Let me know as soon as you
think you have the right answer.

THE NEWEST FASHION.
THE girls of the Red School-house often talk
about new fashions, especially when the Little
Schoolma'am is about, for she is pretty sure to
drop some useful hints. Well, one day she told
them, among other things, about the "latest
novelty" in ladies' ball-dresses at Upernavik, in
Greenland.
As nearly as I can remember, she said that the
costume consists of a little jacket, made of bright-
colored calico or flannel; long pantaloons of seal-
skin, trimmed like the jacket and sitting close to the
figure; and white, red or blue boots: the whole


set off by gay ribbons and all the beads the wearer
can get.
A jaunty suit enough, no doubt; but, if she wore
only that, the wearer must have been obliged to
dance, merely to keep herself warm.
By the way, I wonder what ever possessed them
to call that frozen country Green-land ?

TO SURPRISE A DOG.
THIS is the way a man among the Himalaya
Mountains once astonished a stranger dog. He
put on a pair of huge goggles and walked steadily
and quietly toward the dog, without speaking a
word. The dog bristled up and stared hard for a
moment, and then, all at once, he seemed to wilt,
and away he slunk as if ashamed of himself.
I heard about this only the other day, my dears,
and I tell it to you merely to warn you not to try
the little trick, unless you are sure your dog will
not get angry and jump for you.
It would not look well for you to slink off as if
vou were ashamed of yourself.

THE KINDERGARTEN AT HOME.
DEAR JACK : Will you please tell your older boys and girls that in
good systems of Kindergarten teaching they will find a great many
means of amusing invalid brothers or sisters without wearying them,
and many games and much fun for the younger ones, who will
learn at the same time things that they ought to know. To carry
out these methods one wants sticks, blocks, slates, slats, colored balls,
and other things easy to make and cheap to buy, the use of which is
pleasant to teach as well as to learn and practice.
I bought lately a full set of Kindergarten apparatus such as I have
named, and sent it to a little niece of mine in California, and the
dear little one writes to me that she has had much happiness and
enjoyment out of it. I hope some of your young friends will try the
experiment and let me know what success they have.-1 am, dear
Jack, yours affectionately, A LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM.

KAFFIR IRONING.
You all know how ironing is done here-with
flat-irons, I think somebody said. Well, the birds
tell me that the Kaffirs of South Africa don't use
flat-irons, but have quite another way. They make
the clothes into a neat flat package, which they
lay on a big stone. Then they just dance on the
package until they think the clothes are smooth
enough It must be good fun to them Luckily,
Kaffirs don't wear cuffs and frills.

SLIPPERS FOR HORSES.
WHERE do horses wear slippers ?
Now, my chicks, this is not a conundrum. So
you need not be chirping out, On their feet, of
course; or some foolish answer of that kind. The
real answer is, "Japan,"-at least, so I 'm told,
and there are such numbers of other queer things
there, that I don't wonder it is so.
Well, Japanese horses wear straw slippers,-
clumsy-looking things, I should say. But, besides
that, they stand in their stables with their heads
where American horses' tails would be Perhaps
Japanese horses like to see for themselves what is
going on ?
Where is the food put ?"
Why, in a bucket hung from the roof, of course.
\here else, would you suppose ?


299







TIHE LETTERI-BOX.


I













ON THE ICE.







TIHE LETTER-BOX.


Fair Haven, Vt, 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Two of my sisters and myself have taken
... ..- .. since it was published, and like it very much. I
a... ,-.1j i. .a M. Alcott is writing a story for your magazine,
as I am very fond of her stories.
I have read Eight Cousins," "Rose in Bloom,' Little Men,"
"Hospital Sketches," "Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag," and Little Women,"
with all ofwhich I was n-li-hte1 I have three sisters, who, with
myself, have been caller --- Amy, Beth and Jo." My oldest
sister, Alice, who is twenty years old, has been called Meg"; my
sister Ada, who is sixteen years old, is the "Amy" of our family;
my little sister Stella, who is eleven years old, is well skilled in music.
and we think she is very much like Beth "; and I am thirteen, and
have been called "Jo."
So, you see, I was 1 interested in "Little Women," as I
could appreciate it so iI .ld it seemed to me as if Miss Alcott
must have seen us four girls before she wrote the story.
I have four first cousins, and they are all boys, and with my sisters
and me we are "eight cousins." One of my cousins is a little baby,
a little over five weeks old. He makes the eighth cousin.
I liked the piece about Miss Alcott in the December number very
much. We expect to take your magazine until we are young women.
I think it the best published for young people.--Your friend,
ANNIE ADAMS.


Bv letters just received from England, we learn that the pretty
Christmas and New-Year cards in our December and January issues
were not drawn by Miss Greenaway, though a friend had mistakenly
sent them to us last summer as specimens of that lady's work, cut
from a scrap-book. We, therefore, hasten to correct the error, wish-
ing, at the same time, that we knew to whose hand to credit the
drawings. To our still greater regret, we now learn that Marcus
Ward & Co., of London, had published these as Christmas cards,
and counted upon having a large sale for them in America. Had we
known this in time, we certainly should not have copied the pictures
without previously referring to the publishers. The best reparation
we can make at the present date is this acknowledgment and a bit of
honest advice to our readers: Hunt the shops for the beautifully
colored cards from which these pictures were copied, and buy them
for next Christmas. They are far better than our printed ones.


Brooklyn, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLS : I am twelve years old and very fond of read-
ing, and as I never can fir-1 In ;t'erri- in hook of history, I read
stories. But mamnma and '... I t i i .. I ought to read somie-
i ;.. :.. ... but as I never can find anything I like, I would be
.... you would help me a little by giving me a list of
pleasant books. I have taken you for three years and enjoy you very
much indeed.-Your very affectionate reader, ALICE CLINTON.

t Greene's Shorter History of the English People," a new work,
is very interesting. H. If. I). in the Letter-Box," October, T876,
says that The Life and Times of Sir Philip Sidney" is such a pleas-


ant book that you cannot help having a good time when you are read-
ing it, and will not think it is history unless you know beforehand.
"Seven Historic Ages," by Arthur Gilman, is another attractive book,
and, if you are like most smart girls of your age, you will find Pre:-
cott's Ferdinand and Isabella" as interesting as many story books.
It is a history of Spain in its most prosperous times. It is long; but,
once begun, few find it hard to finish.

Geneva, N. Y.
DEAR Sr. NICtIOLAS: Please tell "Jack" that apples that are
part sour and part sweet grow in the beautiful State of New York.
I have tasted of such fruit and am sure it is so. Who can tell me
more about this wonderful fruit ? And how many have ever eaten
such apples ?
Can any one tell me what causes them to grow one side sweet and
the other sour? Hoping to hear more on this subject, I remain,
yours truly, ALMA AYLESWORTHI.
Mobile, Ala.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I wish to tell you of Fanny, our little mule,
who cannot be forced to work on Sunday. -i. .,, obedient
and faithful on week days, but on Sunday ,u be made
to move.
Don't think us heathen, dear ST. NICHOLAS, for the boys just tried
to make her carry a load of hay as a test, and to tease her, also; but
when papa saw what they were up to, he put a stop to it, and now
Fanny enjoys her Sundays in peace. My little sister says, she is a
religious mule." Do you think that the mule really knows when
Sunday has conme?-Your well-wisher, ERNESTINE HAMMOND.


KING ALFRED AND THE C.'KES.
(.Tack-iin-ie-IPulit's Story in it,' Decenmber ANmbelr,
Straig'htened Out.)
KING ALFRIED TIE GREAT, having been driven by the Danes to
seek safety in flight, disguised himself as a peasant, and took refuge
in the hut of a cow-herd, where he was told to watch the baking of
some cakes. But he forgot the cakes and let them burn; and when
the herdsman's wife came in, she gave him a sound scolding for his
carelessness.
Charles I. of England cas defeated at Marston Moor; and his son,
Charles II., after losing the battle of Worcester, barely escaped capt-
ure, by hiding in the l:afy branches of an oak-tree.
Robert Bruce lost many battles, fighting fir the Scottish throne.
At length, he lay down disheartened on a heap of straw in an old hut.
While he was thinking over his troubles, he saw a spider trying to
get from one rafter to another. It failed many times, but at last suc-
ceeded, and Pruce, taking courage at the insect's example, went on
fighting until he had secured hiis Lindonm.
Sir Isaac Newton had on Iis table a pile of papers upon which were
written calculations that had taken him twenty years to make. One
evening, he left the room for a few minute-, and when he came back


300


[FuIBRUARY,








THE LETTER-BOX.


he found that his little dog Diamond" had overturned a candle
and set fire to the precious papers, of which nothing was left but a
heap of ashes. It was then that he cried, "Oh, Diamond Diamond !
thou little knowest what mischief thou hast done "
It is said that George Washington, when a boy, destroyed his
father's favorite cherry-tree, and, being asked about it, replied: "I
cannot tell a lie; I did it with my little hatchet."
Oliver Cromwell, when dispersing Parliament, saw the Speaker's
mace upon the table, and, pointing to it, said, Take away that
bauble "
Just after Lord Nelson's great naval victory off Cape Trafilgari, as
lie was dying from a wound received in the battle, lie kept repeating
the words, Thank Heaven, I have done my duty "
Prince William, son of Henry II. of England, was drowned on his
way home from France. The king was so affected by his loss that
" he never smiled again."
[Fannie P. sends a complete and correct version. Willie H. Paul
and Bertha Paul straightened out all of the story except the part
about Lord Nelson. The versions sent by E. J. Smith, Charlie W.
Jerome, Lulu Way, and John N. L. Pierson, were correct, as far as
they went, but they explained only the parts that referred to King
Alfred himself]


HERE is a little story sent to ST. NICuOLAS as a companion to
" The Story that Would n't be Told," in the November number:

THE STORY NOBODY KNEW.
Once there was a little story that nobody knew, and nobody could
tell it, because nobody knew it, and yet this little story wanted dearly
to be told. It used to wait about where people were telling stories,
and when a story was ended and the merry laugh went round, it
would say to itself, Now they will certainly tell me," but they never
did. So at last this little story got quite low-spirited and wandered
off by itself out of the house, and through the garden into the orchard,
and there in the orchard, under an apple-tree, there was a little girl
lying fast asleep among the buttercups and daisies. The little story
looked all around to see that no one else was there, and then it cud-
dled down beside the sleeping child and whispered itself into her ear.
It was so exciting, so charming, that the little girl awoke, and thought
she had dreamed it all, and ran to tell her mother the beautiful dream.
When she saw her mother, she cried out, Mother! mother! and
was just about to tell the little story, when suddenly she forgot it all,
and now the little story can never be told, but it still comes to good
children in their dreams.


A LITTLE GIRL, eleven years old, sends these verses of her own
composition to the Letter-Box :

VALENTINE.
I am a little Cupid,
And I come to visit thee,
To tell you that I love you,
And to know if you love me.

And if you'lI be my little wife,
And come along with me,
I'll take you to a lovely place,
And pretty flowers you'll see.

And when you have been there a day,
You '11 be a little Cupid,
With no hard lesson-books to learn,
That are so dull and stupid.

But, if you will not come and be
My pretty little wife,
You'll go straight back to school again.
With lessons all your life. K. UNIACKt .


Two Rivers., Wis.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am not quite ten years old, hut I amn one
of your oldest subscribers. We have every number from the very
first. I have a brother Fred, two years older than I. We have
always lived on the shores of Lake Michigan.
During the summer months, the steamer comes in fiom Chicago
every morning. Fied and I like to get up early in the morning, and
go down to the beach, before breakfast, to see the steamer go out;
and, afterward, the morning train, for the station is near the beach.
It is lovely down there early in the morning; we dig wells, sail boats,
and wade out after the waves that chase us back again
We love the lake, and spend many happy hours down there. Put


sometimes it's a very wicked lake. Three weeks ago it blew very
hard all night, and in the morning the waves were rolling up like
mountains, and near the harbor pier there lay a wreck. Although
they were so close to the town, and several other vessels were lying
at anchor near, no one had heard, or seen, I .. 1.-..: about
how it happened. It proved to be the I .: ... Cathe-
rine's, Ont. Since then nine bodies have washed ashore, among them
the captain and his brother, the mate, both of them fine-looking young
men, and not like ordinary rough sailors. The captain was a Knight
Templar, and the Masons took charge of the body and sent it home,
and some ladies made a beautiful cross of natural flowers, which they
laid on his breast. But I will leave this sad subject, and tell you how
we appreciate ST. NICHOLAS.
Last week we had a concert. There were several recitations from
ST. NICHOLAS, besides the Mother Goose Operetta" in the Janu-
ary number (1877). It was very pretty. There were fifteen children,
all in handsome peasant costumes. I was Manie.
Last summer, when we came from the Centennial, in our Pullman
car were two boys just Fred's age; one was from San Francisco and
one from Chicago. Of course, the three were soon well acquainted,
and had lots of fun together. And what do you think? They soon
found out that each was a subscriber to ST. NICHOLAS And how
they enjoyed talking over the stories ...i.. "Fast Friends"
seemed to be the favorite; but I like I ..1. Cousins" better.-
Respectfully yours, NETTIE CONINE.

Paulsboro', N. J., 1877.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I had pigeons at the Woodbury Fair both
this year and last, and took the first premiums for best display:
another little fellow, about my age, had four when I had six, and had
eight when I had nine; how many had I better take next year? You
are interested in this question, for the two dollars premium helps pay
for my ST. NICHOLAS, and I don't want to be without that. I take
the "Scattered Seeds," but like ST. NICHOLAS better. Please stop
sending my magazine to NWm. E. Grait. I am no relation to General
Grant, but am a Democrat, and for General McClellan. I am nine
years of age.-Your constant reader, WILLIE E. GAUNT.

You have done so well already, Willie, that we think you can best
answer your own question; but we should take allof our best pigeons.

New York.
Will ST. NICHOLAS please tell Sidonie if the trade dollar" is
made entirely of silver?

It is not. There are 900 parts of pure silver and Too parts of cop-
per in the "trade dollar." The copper alloy is added to make the
coin hard, so that it will wear well, as silver by itself would be too soft.

Chicago, Ill.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I, for one, think it is all nonsense about
those that" sentences. Anybody can put more than eight that's "
in a sentence; but if he, she, or it, can parse them, I would like to
have them do it. I don't believe it can be done. Let them parse
the sentence in the August number, for instance; and, if they can
put in twelve that's and then parse them, why, then, and not till
then, will I believe it. Please put this in the Letter-Box, and oblige
C. P. S.

Louisville, Ky.
DEAR Sr. NICHOLAS: I thank you very much for the many beau-
tiful designs which you have given for Christmas presents, and for
the pictures and silhouettes which you have published, from which we
have copied in tableaux vinvants and shadow pantomimes. We had
"The Modern and Mediaeval Ballad of Mary Jane" (published in
January, :-' .. church entertainment, and it "took" im-
mensely. i. ..i Benjamin and Lord Mortimer" were cut
from pasteboard, and fastened up by wires, and, of course, no one
knew that they were not people. The "Ballad" was read behind
the scenes.-Truly yours, KITTY B. WIItPPLE.

Boston.
DEAR ST. NICUoI. \s: Papa has bought me every number of the
ST. NICHOLAS you have ever published, and as I have seen several
letters asking you about different things, I thought I would ask you
about something I do not understand. If it is not really known who
wrote the plays Titus Andronicus and Pericles, Prince of Tyre,"
S\hat circumstances lead people to think Shakspeare wrote them ?
I have enjoyed you extremely, and as the Little Schoolma'am
seems always to answer such questions, I write to you hoping you
will ask her.-I am your fond admirer, ETHEL DAVIS.

The Little Schoolma'am says it is not absolutely certain who wrote
the plays you name, but this is about the way the matter stands:
ihe play Titus Andronicus" is not now believed to have been
originally written by Shakspeare. It is considered too horrible and
repulsive to be his work. However, it may have been brought to








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


him to be retouched and made ready for the stage. Hence is it, per-
haps, that some passages of his are found in it.
"Pericles," as well as "Timon of Athens," is believed to have
been the work of some other writer, afterward completed and partially
altered by Shakspeare. It is thought that most of the last three acts
of" Pericles are Shakspeare's, though some of their prose scenes
and all the choruses are by another hand.


NEW PUBLICATIONS.

ALL AROUND A PALETTE is a delightful book for boys and girls,
especially for those who love good pictures and odd and sprightly
stories with something in teint besides the fun and sparkle. Mr. J.
Wells Champney has put a picture or a sketch wherever there was a
chance, and Mrs. Lizzie W. Champney has made the stories very
bright, sweet and interesting. The book is published by Messrs.
Lockwood, Brooks & Co., Boston, and is one of the "Children's
Art Series."
Messrs. Porter & Coates, of Philadelphia, send us THE Bov
TRADERS, by Harry Castlemon, a brisk story of adventure on the
sea, in the Sandwich Islands and among the Boers. There ale
several striking pictures.
A YORK AND A LANCASTER ROSE, by Anne Kearney, author of
"Castle Daly," "Oldbury," etc.; published by Macmillan & Co.,
New York. This book is by an English author, and is a charming


picture of family life, which will interest girls of thirteen and fifteen
years of age. The story is of two girls, each named Rose, the one rich
and the other poor; and tells how they were brought together, and
the influence they exercised upon each other, and relates, in a very
pleasant way, the various adventures, sayings, and doings of their
brothers and sisters.
THE CUCKOO CLOCK, by Ennis Graham, author of "Carrots"
and Tell me a Story"; published by Macmillan & Co. This vol-
ume is well illustrated by Walter Crane. The cuckoo in an old clock
makes friends with a lonely little girl, and causes her to have a good
time, and to see many wonderful things. One of the prettiest parts
of the story is the account of the making of the clock in the German
home of the little girl's grandmother.
SLICES OF M\O1THER GOOSE, SERVED WITH SAUCE BY "CIIAMP,"
is the title of a set of large cards, admirably printed in black and red,
and giving new funny versions of Mother Goose rhymes, by Alice
Parkman, illustrated with capital pictures and silhouettes by Mr.
Champney. Messrs. Lockwood, Brooks & Co., of Boston, are the
publishers.
Six SINNERS, by Campbell Wheaton, has to do chiefly with one of
the six dear little "sinners," Dora Maynard, whom girl readers will
love right off. It tells all about her school-days, her pranks and fun,
her troubles and how they were overcome, and tells it in a way so
lively and absorbing that you will want to read all of it at one sitting.
The book is clearly printed in large type, and is published by Messrs.
Putnam, New York.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


EASY DOUBLE CROSS-WORD ACROSTIC.
THE initials and finals, read downward, form the names of two
kinds of trees.
i. The width of a vessel. 2. A mountain of Crete. 3. A Tom-boy.
4. An inclosure. 5. To harbor. WILLIE PETTINOS.

SQUARE-WORD.
i. A GOVERNOR. 2. To join. 3. Flexible. 4. A girl's name.
5. Quick dances. L.

NUMERICAL PUZZLE.
I AM a word of five letters, the sum of which is 512.
My I X my 3 == ; of my 5;
My 2 X my 4 = of my 3;
My 5 my I =my3 X 20.

HIDDEN ACROSTIC.
AT the top of a mountain,
Within a clear ':t-.-
In the midst of a I .-. ,
At edge of the night;
In field and in meadow,
In sunshine and shadow,
On land and on sea,
At the end of the earth,
Or in air, we may be.

Now put us together,
And, if you guess right,
You 'I discover a water-fall
Sparkling and bright. W. t. a.

EASY DECAPITATIONS.
i. BEHEAD a kind of sword, and leave a fluid for 1 l-:...,: 2. Be-
..,] 1 ,,. .i- I,, I -apon, and leave a fruit. 3. .. I to touch,
.. i i i l, I, 4. Behead a vehicle used in winter, and
leave a shelf. 5. Behead a kind of deer, and leave a game that boys
play. 6. Behead an ancient war implement, and leave a unit. 7. Be-
head animals of a common kind, and leave a sort of grain. 8. Behead
to pull, and leave sore. 9. Behead the name of a vessel, and leave a
narrow passage. WALTEI: A.


TRANSPOSITIONS.
i. CHANGE artful into a confusion. '-.- -r : king into
a mixture. 3. (1 utter into .. a cheat
into musicians. I: I. repaired into healed. 6. Change a drink
into a class embracing many species. CYRIL IDANE.
CHARADE.
IN war, and in council, my first oft appears.
My second is that which my first often wears.
Very strong is my last; 't is a bark, not a bite;
That from which it is taken is solid, not light.
Three joined in one, if my whole you should find.
An island well known it would bring to your mind.
MI. D.
GEOGRAPHICAL PUZZLE.
(Composed by Mary V. and Willie K., each aged thirteen.)
AN island west of British Columbia (i) went to the li"hte-~ -o' (2)
in the world to attend a ball. She there met a peak ..- .. (3)
named as follows: A city in Egypt (4), a city in Maine (5), and a
city in Australia (6), in whom she was much interested.
Her dress was a valley among the Himalaya Mountains (7), and
though elegantly trimmed with a city in P-eli-,m (8), it was, unfort-
unately, two cities in France (9). As sh.. I.lr country in South
America (eo), she wore around her shoulders a city in Scotland (ii)
shawl. Her jewelry was exclusively a peak in Oregon (12). Her
shoes were of a country in Africa (13), and her handkerchief was per-
fumed with a city in Prussia (14).
Being a lake north of the United States (15) dancer, she had dis-
tinguished partners, whose names were the capital of the United
',. .1 i' 1. .r1 if Ohio (17), the capital of Wisconsin (18), the
.1 .iI ..I ,. the capital of Mississippi (20), and the capital

Having boldly said that she was a country i.. T. (.. -sc was
escorted by a city in Indiana (23) to a bay in r (24),
where she freely partook of a river in Oregon (25), some- islands in
the Pacific Ocean (26), a river in South Africa (27), a district in
France (28), and some islands in the Atlantic (29). After passing a
river of Maine evening (30), she bade a cape in Iceland (31) to her
hostess, and was escorted home by an island in Nova Scotia (32).

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
MY 1 2 3 4 is undoubtedly possessed by every one of the whole race
of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (my whole), while my 5 6 7 8 ends a prayer. c. D.


[FEBRUARY,








THE RIDDLE-BOX.



ILLUSTRATED PUZZLE.


TWELVE things may be found in the picture above,
Not clearly perceived by the eye,
But with keen observation and witty conceit,
You will find them, I know, if you try.

First point out (I) an animal (other than bear),
(2) A spectator, (3) a portion of corn,
(4) One part of a sentence, and (5) parts of a bird,
And (6) what may your fair head adorn.





CURTAILIMENTS.
I. CURTAIL a bur, and leave to plague; curtail again, and leave
plants. 2. Curtail a celestial body, and leave to make smooth; again,
and leave a model. 3. Curtail a low, wet ground, and leave a planet;
again, and leave to injure; again, and leave a parent. 4. Curtail a
jury-roll, and leave a glass; again, and leave part of a gun-lock;
again, and leave a parent. CYRIL DEANE.

COMPLETE DIAGONAL.
DIAGONALS from left to right, downward: i. Fifty. 2. A boy's
nickname. 3. A title of respect. 4. To affirm. 5. Ardent. 6. A
vale. 7. A rule of action. 8. A river in Italy. 9. Ihonetically, a
measure.
Horizontally: i. Used by painters. 2. An Israelitish king. 3. A
name for beer. 4. More dim. 5. To reduce. N. T. t.


Now (7) part of a river, and (8) parts of a book,
And now, if you please, take the trouble
To pick out (9, 10) two letters, which, rightly combined,
In classical language mean "double."

The remaining two things in the picture above,
To which I would call your attention,
Are (nx) part of a carriage or part of a boy,
And (12) a sort of a stop or suspension. AUNT suE.





EASY NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I AM composed of twelve letters. My 2 Ir 3 is a fish. My 14 3 2 5
is a girl's name. My 7 3 8 105 is an American politician. My 12 8
6 i is pretty for a child's wear. My 9 8 12 so 5 is a necessary domes-
tic utensil. My 4 8 6 2 is very pleasant. M1y whole is the title of a
popular book. D. c. R.
SQUARE-WO RI).
I. AN emperor's title. 2. Nothing. ~. V weapons. 4 A flower.


ANAGRAM DOUBLE DIAMOND AND CONCEALED
DOUBLE SQUARE.
F:ost. the sentence Seer eats a pear" form a double diamond, the
center of which will be a double word-square. CYRIL DEANE.








304 THE RIDDLE-BOX.


PICTORIAL PROVERB PUZZLE.
The answer is a well-known couplet


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JANUARY NUMBER.


DOUBLE ACROSTIC.-Initials, Russia; finals, Turkey; across,
R -a- Y
U -nit- E
S -ac- K
"-,,2 --
I -U- U
A -n- T
HOUR-GLASS PUZZLE.-Diagonals, hones, sends; central, inner;
horizontals, Hi A I L S
ONE
N
DEE
sORES
DECAPITATIONS.-Acorn, corn; brook, rook; drake, rake; flute,
lute; pearl, earl; plane, lane; wheel, heel; spine, pine; trout, rout;
prune, rune.
DIAGONAL PUZZLE.-Diagonal, January; horizontals, Jollity, sAd-
ness, kiNdles, ensUing, compAny, appeaRs, holidaY.
DOUBLE PUZZLE.-Central Syncopations: Rabid, raid; stair, stir;
haste, hate; steep, step; Tiber, tier; grain, grin; holes, hoes; tiles,
ties. The syncopated letters, B, A, S, E, B, A, L, L, form the answer
to the Cross-word I.-. ..
GEOGRAPHICAL i .. -I held, Delhi; panels, Naples;
I turn, Turin; pains, Spain; pure, Peru; erect, Crete; more, Rome.


OMNIBUS WORD.-Crate :
I. Hour-Glass Puzzle.--Central, re-act: horizontals, caret, tea,
a, act, cater.
II. Square-Word.-Ace, car, era.
III. Prefix Puzzle.-At, cat; are, tare; art, cart; ear, tear.
IV. Another Prefix Puzzle.-Ace, race, trace; ate, rate, crate.
ACCIDENTAL HIDINGs.-Esther, molEST HER; Theresa, THERE
SAt; Ada, A DAmsel; Nora, NO RAy; Ernesta, StERNEST Age.
PERSPECTIVE CROSS PUZZLE.-Horizontals: i, Grand; 2, plate;
3, ditch: 4, event; 5, prism; 6, eel; 7, great; 8, court; 9, terse.
Perflendiculars: 0o, Glove; i dread; 12, yet; 13, prove; 14, harem;
15, plant; 16, telegmatic; 17, preferment; 18, governable. Di-
agonals: 19, dry; 20, hop; 21, met; 22, peg; 23, toe: 24, cot;
25, Eve.
EAsy SQUARE-WORD.-Dial, inca, acid, lade.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA.-Forest all, forestall.
FRAME PUZZLE.-Stock-dove, broom-corn, anonymous, inodorous.
CHARADE.-Cat.
WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EXPRESSED.-Pot-a-toe, potato; Mo-
lasses, molasses; whisky; guinea-pig; false-hood, falsehood; toe-
martyrs, tomatoes; pike-rust, pie crust; captive-atin', captivating;
barber-us, barbarous; turn-pike; butter; IV, ivy.
PICTORIAL CHRISTMAS PUZZLE.-At Christmas play and make
good cheer.


ANSWERS TO THE CHESS PUZZLE in the December number were received, before December 18, from Frederica," P. Hill, J. E. N.
James T. White, Laura Randolph, S. J. B., Bessie and her Cousin," Alice Mason, and M. W. Collet.
ANSWERS T THE MAGIC DOMINO-SQUARE PUZZLE in the December number were received, before December 18, from Alice Louise,
William Lewis Lockwood, James Buckelew, Howard G. Myers, Jas. Forsyth, E. C. Rowsc, Bertie Pierson,' ..... Kenneth Hartley,
Hattie Coons, II .r .ri-.f P Dodge, Alice Downing, Anna A. Hays, Emma A. Gill, "Georgie," D. C. Robe.. .., .i Sheffield, Samuel
Herbert Fisher i Mitchell, Carrie Welles, G. L.., Emma Elliott, K. C. R., A. H.. John Hancock, Jr., Harry Hartshorn, Carrie
Doane, Carrie Heller, Eddie F.Worcester, H. S., Fred Il. Applegct, "Three of Them" (?), C. Kittinger, "Bessie and her Cousin," and
P. Hill, whose criticism we find just.
Helen L. Gilbert sends the solution of a puzzle in which 18 (not 16) is the sum of the dots in each row of half-dominoes.
ANSWERS TO OTHER PZZLES ill the December number were received, before December 18, from Charles Lothrop, R. T. McKeever,
Arthur C. Smith, Lulu Way, James J. Ormsbee, Fannie Runnels, G. L., "Jennie," Bancel La i.. iilie Kellogg, Allie Bertram,
L. Giraud, Alice N. Bailey, Josephine Scibert, Frederica," P. Hill, B. P. Emery, Bessie and I... .. ," A. G. Cameron, Lizzie
and Anna," Fred S. Pickett, Gracie S. Cook. Leonice Barnes, John Edward Hill, Carrie Heller, Bessie L. Barnes, Helen E. Risteen,
" Blotterer and Blunderer," T. W. Siddall, Alice Mason, Fred M. Pease, Nessic E. Stevens, P. Hill, Katie E. Earl, M. W. Collet, and
A. H. White.
ANSWERS TO TlHE BLIND-CLEeRK'S PUZZLE," in Jack-in-the-Pulpit for December, were received, before December 18, from K. C. R.,
H. B. Hastings, and "Nat"; and answers to the TIrE PUZZLE from Mary V. Ridgway, "M.," Iinda L. Bergen, H. Walton, H. B.
Hastings, J. C. Hoadley, Lewis K. Stubbs.
Caroline I. Lockwood, of Tunbridge Wells, England, sends an answer to a puzzle in a former number.


[FEBRUARY.