<%BANNER%>
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Fern-seed
 Mackerel-fishing
 Spring and summer
 The ax of ranier
 The painter's scare-crow
 Under the lilacs
 Little bear - My St. George
 Born in prison
 How Lily-toes was caught in...
 "Thanks to you"
 How birds fly
 Nancy Chime
 How he caught him
 Who put out the tea-party?
 The fox, the monkey, and the...
 Dab Kinzer: A story of a growing...
 The fox and the turkeys; or, Charley...
 Hiddy-diddy!
 The squirrels and the chestnut...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


BLDN NEH CCLC ICDL UFSPEC



St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 11
ALL VOLUMES CITATION SEARCH THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00064
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 11
Series Title: St. Nicholas.
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner,
Publication Date: -c1943.
 Subjects
Subjects / Keywords: Literature for Children
Genre: Children's literature
Periodicals
serial   ( sobekcm )
 Notes
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: notis - ocm0176
oclc - 7405657; (DLC)SF 89099153
oclc - (DLC) 2006255186; 55136171
System ID: UF00065513:00064

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    Fern-seed
        Page 705
    Mackerel-fishing
        Page 706
        Page 707
    Spring and summer
        Page 708
    The ax of ranier
        Page 709
        Page 710
        Page 711
        Page 712
        Page 713
    The painter's scare-crow
        Page 714
        Page 715
    Under the lilacs
        Page 716
        Page 717
        Page 718
        Page 719
        Page 720
        Page 721
        Page 722
        Page 723
        Page 724
        Page 725
    Little bear - My St. George
        Page 726
        Page 727
        Page 728
        Page 729
    Born in prison
        Page 730
    How Lily-toes was caught in a shower
        Page 731
        Page 732
    "Thanks to you"
        Page 733
    How birds fly
        Page 734
        Page 735
        Page 736
        Page 737
        Page 738
    Nancy Chime
        Page 739
    How he caught him
        Page 740
    Who put out the tea-party?
        Page 741
        Page 742
    The fox, the monkey, and the pig
        Page 743
    Dab Kinzer: A story of a growing boy
        Page 744
        Page 745
        Page 746
        Page 747
        Page 748
        Page 749
        Page 750
        Page 751
        Page 752
        Page 753
        Page 754
        Page 755
    The fox and the turkeys; or, Charley and the old folks
        Page 756
        Page 757
        Page 758
        Page 759
    Hiddy-diddy!
        Page 760
    The squirrels and the chestnut-burr
        Page 761
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 762
        Page 763
    The letter-box
        Page 764
        Page 765
    The riddle-box
        Page 766
        Page 767
        Page 768
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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ST. NICHOLAS.


SEPTEMBER, 1878.

[Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.]




FERN-SEED.

BY CELIA THAXTER.


SHE filled her shoes with fern-seed,
This foolish little Nell,
And in the summer sunshine
Went dancing down the dell.
For whoso treads on fern-seed,---
So fairy stories tell,-
Becomes invisible at once,
So potent is its spell.
A frog mused by the brook-side:
Can you see me !" she cried;
He leaped across the water,
A flying leap and wide.
Oh, that 's because I asked him!
I must not speak," she thought,
And skipping o'er the meadow
The shady wood she sought.
The squirrel chattered on the bough,
Nor noticed her at all,
The birds sang high, the birds sang low,
With many a cry and call.
The rabbit nibbled in the grass,
The snake basked in the sun,
The butterflies, like floating flowers,
Wavered and gleamed and shone.
The spider in his hammock swung,
The gay grasshoppers danced;
A nd now and then a cricket sung,
And shining beetles glanced.
'T was all because the pretty child
So softly, softly trod,-
You could not hear a foot-fall
Upon the yielding sod.
But she was filled with such delight-
This foolish little Nell !
VOL. V.-47.


And with her fern-seed laden shoes,
Danced back across the dell.
SI '11 find my mother now," she thought,
What fun 't will be to call
'Miamma mamma while she can see
No little gill at all!"
She peeped in through the window,
Mamma sat in a dream :
About the quiet, sun-steeped house
All things asleep did seem.
She stept across the threshold;
So lightly had she crept,
The dog upon the mat lay still,
And still the kitty slept.
Patient beside her mother's knee
To try her wondrous spell
Waiting she stood, till all at once,
Waking, mamma cried Nell!
Where have you been ? Why do you gaze
At me with such strange eyes?"
"But can you see me, mother dear?"
Poor Nelly faltering cries.
"See you? Why not, my little girl?
Why should mamma be blind?"
And little Nell unties her shoes,
With fairy fern-seed lined,
And tosses up into the air
A little powdery cloud,
And frowns upon it as it falls,
And murmurs half aloud,
It was n't true, a word of it,
About the magic spell
I never will believe again
What fairy stories tell! "


VOL. V


No. 11







M AC KE REL FISH ING .


MACKEREL- FISHING.

B1Y ROBERT ARNOLD.


WHEN I was a boy, I lived on the rugged coast
of New England. The sea abounded in cod, hake,
mackerel, and many other kinds of fish. The
mackerel came in schools in late summer, and
sometimes were very plentiful. One day, my uncle
James determined to go after some of these fish,
with his son George, and invited me to go with
them. We were to start before day-break the next
morning. I went to bed that night with an impa-
tient heart, and it was a long time before I could
go to sleep. After I did get asleep, I dreamed of
the whale that swallowed Jonah, and all kinds of
fishes, big and little. I was awakened by somebody
calling, in a very loud voice, Robert! Robert!"
I jumped out of bed, with my eyes not more than
half opened, and fell over the chair on which I had
put my clothes. This made me open my eyes, and
I soon realized that the voice proceeded from my
cousin George, who had come to arouse me for the
fishing-voyage.
I dressed as quickly as possible, and went down-
stairs. All was quiet in the house except the old
clock ticking in the kitchen. I went out-of-doors
and found the stars still shining. It was half-past
three o'clock in the morning. There was no sign
of daylight, and even the cocks had not begun
to crow. In the darkness I espied George, who
said, Come, it is time to start. Father is wait-
ing for you."
We walked across the fields to my uncle's house.
Taking each a basket and knife, we began our
journey, and soon entered the pine-woods. As we
walked along in the darkness, we could scarcely see
each other or the path. The wind was sighing
mournfully among the tree-tops, and, as we gazed
upward, we could see the stars twinkling in the
clear sky.
We soon emerged from the forest, and came to a
sandy plain. Before us was the ocean, just discern-
ible. There were two or three lights, belonging
to vessels that were anchored near the shore. We
could see the waves and hear their murmur, as
they broke gently upon the shore. A soft breeze
was blowing from the west, and the sea was almost
as smooth as a pond.
When we reached the beach, we found that it
was low water. The boat was at high-water mark.
What should we do ? We did as the fishermen in
that region always do in the same circumstances
-took two rollers, perhaps six inches in diameter,


lifted the bow of the boat, put one of the rollers
under it, and the other upon the sand about eight
feet in front of it. We then pushed the boat until
it reached the second roller, and rolled it upon that
until the other was left behind. Then the first was
put in front of the boat, and so we kept on until
our craft reached the water. Uncle James and
George took the oars, and I sat in the stern, with
the tiller in my hand, to steer.
We got out over the breakers without difficulty,
and rowed toward the fishing-ground. It is queer
that fishermen call the place where they fish, the
ground," but that is only one of the many queer
things that they do. By this time, daylight had
come. The eastern sky was gorgeous with purple
and red, and hues that no mortal can describe.
Soon a red arc appeared, and then the whole glori-
ous sun, looking more grand and beautiful than
can be thought of by one who has never seen the
sun rise over the sea.
How glorious I exclaimed, impulsively.
Yes; it is a first-rate morning for fishing," said
my uncle, whose mind was evidently upon business,
and not upon the beauties of nature.
After rowing about three miles, we stopped, and
prepared for fishing. Each of us had two lines,
about twenty feet long. The hooks were about as
big as large trout-hooks. Pewter had been run
around the upper part of them, so that sinkers"
were not required. The pewter answered a double
purpose; it did duty as a sinker, and, being bright,
attracted the notice of the fish. Uncle James had
brought with him some clams, which we cut from
their shells and put on the hooks. We threw in
our lines and waited for a bite. We did not wait
long, for, in less than a minute, George cried out,
in the most excited manner, There's a fish on
my hook "
Pull, then !" shouted his father.
He was too agitated to pull at first, but, at
length, managed to haul in his line, and, behold,
a slender fish, about eight inches long, showing all
the colors of the rainbow, as he held it up in the
morning sun It was our first mackerel. While
admiring George's prize, I suddenly became aware
of a lively tug at one of my own lines. I pulled it
in, and found that I had caught a fish just like the
other, only a little larger. No sooner had I taken
it from the hook than my other line was violently
jerked. I hauled it in hurriedly, and on the end


[SE PTEMBER,







MAC KE RE L FISHING.


of it was-not a mackerel, but a small, brown
fish, with a big head and an enormous mouth. I
was about to take it from the hook when my uncle
called, Look out !" He seized it, and showed me
the long, needle-like projections on its back, with
which, but for his interference, my hand might
have been badly wounded. This unwelcome visitor
was a sculpin. Sculpins are very numerous in this
region.
Uncle James explained how I happened to catch
one of them. They swim at a much greater depth
than mackerel usually do, and, while I was busy


with one line, the other had sunk some twelve or
fifteen feet down where the sculpins dwelt.
When mackerel are inclined to take the bait,
they are usually close to the surface of the water.
They began now to bite with the greatest eager-
ness, and gave us all the work that we could do.
As soon as I had taken a fish from one line, the
other demanded my attention. I did not have to
w'aif for a bite. Indeed, as soon as the hook was
thrown into the water, several mackerel would dart
for it. As George said, they were very anxious to


be caught. This was very different from my pre-
vious experience in fishing for trout in the little
brooks near my home. I used to fish all day and
not get more than two or three trout, and often I
would not get one. Those that I did catch were
not more than four or five inches long. I guess
some of my boy readers have had the same experi-
ence.
The only drawback was baiting the hook when-
ever a fish was taken from it. Uncle James soon
remedied this difficulty. He cut from the under side
of a dead mackerel six thin pieces, about half an


ii -=_:5





- \C&L.J BOATS.


inch in diameter, and gave each of us two. VWe
put them on our hooks, and they served for bait a
long time. When they were gone, we put on more
of the same kind. Mackerel will bite at any very
small object, almost, that they can see, and some-
times fishermen fasten a small silver coin to their
hooks, which will do duty as bait for days. They
wish to catch as many fish as they possibly can,
while they are biting, for mackerel are very notional.
Sometimes they will bite so fast as to tire their cap-
tors, and, ten minutes after, not one can be felt or







MA CKE RE I. FIS IIING


seen. Usually, they can be caught best in the
morning and toward evening. I suppose they have
but two meals a day, breakfast and supper, going
without their dinner. In this respect, they resem-
ble trout and many other kinds of fish.
They are caught in great numbers off the coast
of Maine and Massachusetts in the months of
August and September. Hundreds of schooners,
large and small, and thousands of men and boys
are employed in the business. Standing upon the
shore, near Portland, and looking out upon the
Atlantic, on a bright summer's day, you can some-
times see more white, glistening sails of mackerel-
catchers than you can count. At the wharves of
every little village on the sea-shore, or on a river
near the shore, boats and fishermen abound. Of
late years, immense nets or "seines" have been
used, and often, by means of them, enormous
quantities of fish have been secured in one haul.
The season is short, but most of the fishermen,
before the mackerel come and after they go, engage
in fishing for cod and hake, which are plentiful
also. Mackerel-catching has its joys, but it also
has its sorrows and uncertainties. One vessel may
have excellent luck while another may be very un-
fortunate. In short, those engaged in the pursuit
of mackerel have to content themselves with '"fisher-
men's luck."
While we were busily fishing, George called my
attention to a dark fin, projecting a few inches
above the water, and gradually approaching the
boat with a peculiar wavy motion. Just before
reaching us it sank out of sight. I cast an inquir-
ing glance at my cousin, who said, in a low tone of
voice, A shark !" A feeling of wonder and dread
came over me, and doubtless showed itself in my


face, for my uncle said, in an assuring voice, He
will not harm us."
The mackerel stopped biting all at once. Our
fishing was over. It was now about ten o'clock,
and the sun had become warm. Half a mile from
us was a small island, with a plenty of grass and a
few trees, but no houses. Uncle James proposed
that we should row to it, which we gladly did. Its
shores were steep and rocky, and we found much
difficulty in landing; but at last we got ashore and
pulled the boat up after us. Among the rocks we
found a quantity of drift-wood ; we gathered some,
and built a fire. Uncle James produced some
bread and crackers from his basket, and, after
roasting some of the nice, fat mackerel on sharp
sticks before the fire, we sat down to what seemed
to us a delicious breakfast. We were in excellent
spirits, and George and I cracked jokes and laughed
to our hearts' content. After our hunger had been
satisfied, we wandered over the island, which we
christened Mackerel Island, and, sitting upon a
high cliff, watched the seals as they bobbed their
heads out of the water, and turned their intelligent,
dog-like faces, with visible curiosity, toward us.
They did not seem to be at all afraid, for they swam
close to the rock upon which we sat. We whistled,
and they were evidently attracted by the sound.
These seals are numerous in some of the bays on
the New England coast. Most of them are small,
but occasionally one is seen of considerable size.
Their fur is coarse and of little value, but they are
sought after by fishermen for the sake of their oil,
which commands a ready sale for a good price.
After we had got fully rested, we launched our
boat, rowed homeward, and soon landed upon the
beach.


SPRING AND SUMMER.

B1Y )ORA READ GOODALE.

In Spring we note the breaking
Of every baby bud;
In Spring we note the waking
Of wild flowers of the wood;
In Summer's fuller power,
In Summer's deeper soul,
We watch no single flower,-
We see, we breathe the whole.


[SEPTEMBER,







THE AX OF RANIER.




THE AX OF RANIER,

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.


ONCE upon a time, there lived on the borders of
a forest an old woman named Jehanne, who had an
only son, a youth of twenty-one years, who was
called Ranier. Where the two had originally come
from no one knew; but they had lived in their
little hut for many years. Ranier was a wood-
cutter, and depended on his daily labor for the
support of himself and mother, while the latter
eked out their scanty means by spinning. The son,
although poor, was not without learning, for an old
monk in a neighboring convent had taught him to
read and write, and had given him instructions in
arithmetic. Ranier was handsome, active and
strong, and very much attached to his mother, to
whom he paid all the honor and obedience due
from a son to a parent.
One morning in spring, Ranier went to his work
in the forest with his ax on his shoulder, whistling
one of the simple airs of the country as he pursued
his way. Striding along beneath the branches
of the great oaks and chestnuts, he began to reflect
upon the hard fate which seemed to doom him to
toil and wretchedness, and, thus thinking, whistled
no longer. Presently he sat down upon a moss-
covered rock, and laying his ax by his side, let his
thoughts shape themselves into words.
This is a sad life of mine," said Ranier. I
might better it, perhaps, were I to enlist in the
army of the king, where I should at least have food
and clothing; but I cannot leave my mother, of
whom I am the sole stay and support. Must I
always live thus,-a poor wood-chopper, earning
one day the bread I eat the next, and no more?"
Ranier suddenly felt that some one was near
him, and, on looking up, sprang to his feet and
removed his cap. Before him stood a beautiful
lady, clad in a robe of green satin, with a mantle
of crimson velvet on her shoulders, and bearing in
her hand a white wand.
'" Ranier !" said the unknown, I am the fairy,
Rougevert. I know your history, and have heard
your complaint. What gift shall I bestow on
you?"
Beautiful fairy," replied the young man, "
scarcely know what to ask. But I bethink me that
my ax is nearly worn out, and I have no money
with which to buy another."
The fairy smiled, for she knew that the answer
of Ranier came from his embarrassment: and, go-
ing to a tree hard by, she tapped on the bark with
her wand. Thereupon the tree opened, and she


took from a recess in its center, a keen-edged ax
with an ashen handle.
Here," said Rougevert, "is the most excellent
ax in the world. With this you can achieve what
no wood-chopper has ever clone yet. You have
only to whisper to yourself what you wish done,
and then speak to it properly, and the ax will at
once perform all you require, without taxing your
strength, and with marvelous quickness."
The fairy then taught him the words he should
use, and, promising to farther befriend him as he
had need, vanished.
Ranier took the ax, and went at once to the
place where he intended to labor for the day. He
was not sure that the ax would do what the giver
had promised, but thought it proper to try its
powers. "For," he said to himself, the ranger
has given me a hundred trees to fell, for each of
which I am to receive a silver groat. To cut these
in the usual way would take many days. I will
wish the ax to fell and trim them speedily, so,"-
he continued aloud, as he had been taught by the
fairy,-" Ax! ax chop chop and work for my
profit!"
Thereupon the ax suddenly leapt from his
hands, and began to chop with great skill and
swiftness. Having soon cut down, trimmed and
rolled a hundred trees together, it returned, and
placed itself in the hands of Ranier,
The wood-chopper was very much delighted with
all this, and sat there pleasantly reflecting upon his
good fortune in possessing so useful a servant, when
the ranger of the forest came along. The latter,
who was a great lord, was much surprised when he
saw the trees lying there.
How is this?" asked the ranger, whose name
was Woodmount. "At this time yesterday these
trees were standing. How did you contrive to fell
them so soon?"
I had assistance, my lord," replied Ranier;
but he said nothing about the magic ax.
Lord Woodmount hereupon entered into con-
versation with Ranier, and finding him to be intel-
ligent and prompt in his replies, was much pleased
with him. At last he said :
We have had much difficulty in getting ready
the timber for the king's new palace, in conse-
quence of the scarcity of wood-cutters, and the
slowness with which they work. There are over
twenty thousand trees yet to be cut and hewn, and
for every tree fully finished the king allows a noble







THE AX OF RANIER


of fifty groats, although he allows but a groat for
the felling alone. It is necessary that they should
be all ready within a month, though I fear that is
impossible. As you seem to be able to get a num-
ber of laborers together, I will allot you a thousand
trees. if you choose, should you undertake to have
them all ready to be hauled away for the builders'
use, within a month's time'"
My lord," answered Ranier, "I will undertake
to have the whole twenty thousand ready before the
time set."
"Do you know what you say ?' inquired the
ranger, astonished at the bold proposal.
Perfectly, my lord," was the reply. Let me
undertake the work on condition that you will cause
the forest to be guarded, and no one to enter save
they have my written permission. Before the end
of the month the trees will be ready."





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that he might not return for a day or so, passed the
guard that he found already set, and plunged into
the wood. When he came to a place where the
trees were thickest and loftiest, he whispered to
himself what he had to do, and said to the ax:
'"Ax! ax chop chop and work for my
profit." The ax at once went to work with great
earnestness, and by night-fall over ten thousand
trees were felled, hewn, and thrown into piles.
Then Ranier, who had not ceased before to watch
the work, ate some of the provisions which he had
brought with him, and throwing himself under a
great tree, whose spreading boughs shaded him
from the moonlight, drew his scanty mantle around
him, and slept soundly till sunrise.
The next morning Ranier arose, and looked with
delight at the work already done; then, speaking
again to the ax, it began chopping away as before.


.4 .-




FELLING THE TREES.


Well," said Lord Woodmount, it is a risk for
me to run; but, from what you have done already,
it is possible you may obtain enough woodmen to
complete your task. Yet, beware If you succeed,
I will not only give you twenty thousand nobles of
gold, but also appoint you-if you can write, as you
have told me-the deputy-ranger here; and for
every day less than a month in which you finish
your contract I will add a hundred nobles; but, if
you fail, I will have you hanged on a tree. When
will you begin?"
"To-morrow morning," replied Ranier.
The next morning, before daylight, Ranier took
his way to the forest, leaving all his money save
three groats with his mother, and, after telling her


Now, it chanced that morning that the chief
ranger had started to see how the work was being
done, and, on reaching the forest, asked the guards
if many wood-cutters had entered. They all replied
that only one had made his appearance, but he
must be working vigorously, since all that morn-
ing, and the whole day before, the wood had
resounded with the blows of axes. The Lord
Woodmount thereupon rode on in great anger, for
he thought that Ranier had mocked him. But
presently he came to great piles of hewn timber
which astonished him much; and then he heard
the axes' sound, which astonished him more, for it
seemed as though twenty wood-choppers were
engaged at once, so great was the din. When he


[SEPTEMBER,


-, .. -







THE AX OF RAINIER


came to where the ax was at work, he thought he
saw-and this was through the magic power of the
fairy-thousands of wood-cutters, all arrayed in
green hose and red jerkins, some felling the trees,
some hewing them into square timber, and others
arranging the hewn logs into piles of a hundred
each, while Ranier stood looking on. He was so
angry at the guards for having misinformed him,
that he at once rode back and rated them soundly
on their supposed untruth. But as they persisted
in the story that but one man had passed, he grew
angrier than ever. While he was still rating them,
Ranier came up.
Well, my lord," said the latter, if you will
go or send to examine, you will find that twenty
thousand trees are already cut, squared, and
made ready to be hauled to the king's palace-
ground."
The ranger at once rode back into the forest, and,
having counted the number of piles, was much
pleased, and ordered Ranier to come that day
week when the timber would be inspected, and if
it were all properly done he would receive the
twenty thousand nobles 'agreed upon.
Excuse me, my lord," suggested Ranier, but
the work has been done in two days instead of
thirty; and twenty-eight days off at a hundred
nobles per day makes twenty-two thousand eight
hundred nobles as my due."
True," replied the ranger; and if you want
money now-- "
Oh no!" interrupted Ranier, "'I have three
groats in my purse, and ten more at home, which
will be quite sufficient for my needs."
At this the ranger laughed outright, and then
rode away.
At the end of a week, Ranier sought the ranger's
castle, and there received not only an order on the
king's treasurer for the money, but also the patent
of deputy-ranger of the king's forest, and the allot-
ment ofa handsome house in which to live. Thither
Ranier brought his mother, and as he was now
rich, he bought him fine clothing, and hired him
servants, and lived in grand style, performing all
the duties of his office as though he had been used
to it all his life. People noticed, however, that the
new deputy-ranger never went out without his ax,
which occasioned some gossip at first; but some
one having suggested that he did so to show that
he was not ashamed of his former condition, folk
were satisfied,-though the truth was that he car-
ried the ax for service only.
Now it happened that Ranier was walking alone
one evening in the forest to observe whether any
one was trying to kill the king's deer, and while
there, he heard the clash of swords. On going to
the spot whence the noise came, he saw a cava-


lier richly clad, with his back to a tree, defend-
ing himself as he best might, from a half dozen
men in armor, each with his visor down. Ranier
had no sword, for, not being a knight, it was forbid-
den him to bear such a weapon; but he bethought
him of his ax, and hoped it might serve the men
as it had the trees. So he wished these cowardly
assailants killed, and when he uttered the prescribed
words, the ax fell upon the villains, and so hacked
and hewed them that they were at once destroyed.
But it seemed to the knight thus rescued that it
was the arm of Ranier that guided the ax, for such
was the magic of the fairy.
So soon as the assailants had been slain, the ax
came back into Ranier's hand, and Ranier went to
the knight, who was faint with his wounds, and
offered to lead him to his house. And when he
examined him fully, he bent on his knee, for he
discovered that it was the king, Dagobert, whom
he had seen once before when the latter was hunt-
ing in the forest.
The king said: This is the deputy-ranger,
Master Ranier. Is it not? "
Yes, sire !" replied Ranier.
The king laid the blade of his sword on Ranier's
shoulder, and said:
I dub thee knight. Rise up, Sir Ranier! Be
trusty, true and loyal."
Sir Ranier arose a knight, and with the king
examined the faces of the would-be assassins, who
were found to be great lords of the country, and
among them was Lord Woodmount.
"Sir Ranier," said the king, "have these
wretches removed and buried. The office of chief
ranger is thine."
Sir Ranier, while the king was partaking of
refreshments at Ranier's house, sent trusty servants
to bury the slain. After this, King Dagobert re-
turned to his palace, whence he sent the new
knight his own sword, a baldrick and spurs of
gold, a collar studded with jewels, the patent of
chief ranger of the forest, and a letter inviting him
to visit the court.
Now, when Sir Ranier went to court, the ladies
there, seeing that he was young and handsome,
treated him with great favor; and even the king's
daughter, the Princess Isaur6, smiled sweetly on
him, which, when divers great lords saw, they were
very angry, and plotted to injure the new-comer;
for they thought him of base blood, and were much
chagrined that he should have been made a knight,
and be thus welcomed by the princess and the
ladies of the court; and they hated him more as
the favorite of the king. So they conferred together
how to punish him for his good fortune, and at
length formed a plan which they thought would
serve their ends.






THE AX OF RANIER.


It must be understood that King Dagobert was
at that time engaged in a war with King Crimball,
who reigned over an adjoining kingdom, and that
the armies of the two kings now lay within thirty
miles of the forest, and Nxere about to give each
other battle. As Sir Ranier, it was supposed, had
never been bred to feats of arms, the) thought if
they could get him in the field, he would so dis-
grace himself as to lose the favor of the king and
the court dames, or be certainly slain. For these
lords knew nothing of the adventure of the king in
the forest,-all those in the conspiracy having been
slain,-and thought that Ranier had either rendered
some trifling service to the ifing, or in some way
had pleased the sovereign's fancy. So when the
king and some of the great lords of the court were
engaged in talking of the battle that was soon to
be fought, one of the conspirators, named Dyvorer,
approached them, and said:
Why not send Sir Ranier there, sire; for he
is, no doubt, a brave and accomplished knight, and
would render great service ?"
The king was angry at this, for he knew that
Ranier had not been bred to arms, and readily
penetrated the purpose that prompted the sugges-
tion. Before he could answer, however, Sir Ranier,
who had heard the words of Dyvorer, spoke up and
said :
I pray you, sire, to let me go; for, though I
may not depend much upon my lance and sword, I
have an ax that never fails me."
Then the king remembered of the marvelous
feats which he had seen Ranier perform in his
behalf, and he replied:
You shall go, Sir Ranier; and as the Lord
Dyvorer has made a suggestion of such profit, he
shall have the high honor of attending as one of
the knights in your train, where he will, doubtless,
support you well."
At this, the rest laughed, and Dyvorer was much
troubled, for he was a great coward. But he dared
not refuse obedience.
The next morning, Sir Ranier departed along
with the king for the field of battle, bearing his ax
with him; and, when they arrived, they found both
sides drawn up in battle order, and waiting the
signal to begin. Before they fell to, a champion
of the enemy, a knight of fortune from Bohemia,
named Sir Paul, who was over seven feet in height,
and a very formidable soldier, who fought as well
with his left hand as with his right, rode forward
between the two armies, and defied any knight
in King Dagobert's train to single combat.
Then said Dyvorer: "No doubt, here is a good
opportunity for Sir Ranier to show his prowess."
Be sure that it is !" exclaimed Sir Ranier; and
he rode forward to engage Sir Paul.


When the Bohemian knight saw only a stripling,
armed with a woodman's ax, he laughed. Is
this girl their champion, then?" he asked. "' Say
thy prayers, young sir, for thou art not long for
this world, I promise thee."
But Ranier whispered to himself, I want me this
braggart hewn to pieces, and th ththe rest beaten ; "
and added, aloud: "Ax! ax! chop! chop! and
work for my profit!" Whereupon the ax leapt
forward, and dealt such a blow upon Sir Paul that
it pierced through his helmet, and clave him to the
saddle. Then it went chopping among the enemy
with such force that it cut them down by hundreds ;
and King Dagobert with his army falling upon
them, won a great victory.
Now the magic of the ax followed it here as
before, and every looker-on believed he saw Sir
Ranier slaying his hundreds. So it chanced when
the battle was over, and those were recalled who
pursued the enemy, that a group of knights, and
the great lords of the court who were gathered
around the king, and were discussing the events of
the day, agreed as one man, that there never had
been a warrior as potent as Sir Ranier since the
days of Roland, and that he deserved to be made a
great lord. And the king thought so, too. So he
created him a baron on the field, and ordered his
patent of nobility to be made out on their return,
and gave him castles and land; and, furthermore,
told him he would grant him any favor more he
chose to ask, though it were half the kingdom.
When Dyvorer and others heard this, they were
more envious than ever, and concerted together a
plan for the ruin of Lord Treefell, for such was Sir
Ranier's new title. After many things had been
proposed and rejected, Dyvorer said: "The Prin-
cess Isaure loves this stripling, as I have been told
by my sister, the Lady Zanthe, who attends on her
highness. I think he has dared to raise his hopes
to her. I will persuade him to demand her hand
as the favor the king has promised. Ranier does
not know our ancient law, and, while he will fail in
his suit, the king will be so offended at his presump-
tion that he will speedily dismiss him from the court."
This plan was greatly approved. Dyvorer sought
out Ranier, to whom he professed great friendship,
with many regrets for all he might have. said or
done in the past calculated to give annoyance. As
Dyvorer was a great dissembler, and Ranier was
frank and unsuspicious, they became very intimate.
At length, one day when they were together, Dy-
vorer said:
Have you ever solicited the king for the favor
he promised?"
And Ranier answered, No !
Then," said Dyvorer, it is a pity that you do
not love the Princess Isaulr."


[SEPTEMBBIR,






THE AX OF RANIER.


"Why? inquired Ranier.
SBecause," replied Dyvorer, the princess not
only favors you, but, I think, from what my sister
Zanthe has said, that the king has taken this mode
of giving her to you at her instance."
Ranier knew that the Lady Zanthe was the favor-
ite maiden of the princess, and, as we are easily
persuaded in the way our inclinations run, he
took heart and determined to act upon Dyvorer's
counsel.
About a week afterward, as the king was walking
in the court-yard of his palace, as he did at times,
he met with Ranier.
You have never asked of me the favor I prom-
ised, good baron," said King Dagobert.
It is true, your majesty," said Ranier; "but it
was because I feared to ask what I most desired."


were you so, could you build such a castle in such
a space of time."
I am of noble blood, nevertheless," said Ranier,
proudly, although I have been a wood-chopper.
My father, who died in banishment, was the Duke
of Manylands, falsely accused of having conspired
against the late king, your august father; and I
can produce the record of my birth. Our line is as
noble as any in your realm, sire, and nobler than
most."
"If that be true, and I doubt it not," answered
King Dagobert, the law holds good for you. But
you must first build a palace where we stand,
and that in a single night. So your suit is
hopeless."
The king turned and entered the palace, leaving
Ranier in deep sorrow, for he thought the condition


.' ; -. "* \ - -.
. t j* .-.'._ A .-- ,.






THE COMI3AT WITH SIR PAUL.
Speak," said the king, and fear not." impossible. As he stood thus, the fairy, Rouge-
Therefore Ranier preferred his request for the vert, appeared.
hand of the princess. Be not downcast," she said; but build that
Baron," replied the king, frowning, some castle to-night."
crafty enemy has prompted you to this. The Alas !" cried Ranier, "it cannot be done."
daughter of a king should only wed with the son Look at your ax," returned the fairy. Do
of a king. Nevertlfelcss, there is an ancient law, you not see that the back of the blade is shaped
never fulfilled, since the conditions are impossible, like a hammer ?"
which says that any one of noble birth, who has So she taught Ranier what words to use, and
saved the king's life, vanquished the king's enemies vanished.
in battle, and built a castle forty cubits high in When the sun was down, Ranier came to the
a single night, may wed the king's daughter. court-yard, and raising his ax with the blade up-
Though you have saved my life and vanquished ward, he said aloud: "Ax! ax! hammer! ham-
my enemies, yet you are not of noble birth, nor, mer and build for my profit !" The ax at once







THE PAINTER'S SCARE-CROW.


leapt forward with the hammer part downward,
and began cracking the solid rock on which the
court-yard lay, and shaping it into oblong blocks,
and heaping them one on the other. So much
noise was made thereby that the warders first, and
then the whole court, came out to ascertain the
cause. Even the king himself was drawn to the
spot. And it seemed to them. all through the
magic of the fairy, that there were hundreds on
hundreds of workmen in green cloth hose and red
leather jerkins, some engaged in quarrying and
shaping, and others in laying the blocks, and
others in keying arches, and adjusting doors and
windows, and making oriels and towers and turrets.
And still as they looked, the building arose foot by
foot, and before dawn a great stone castle, with its
towers and battlements, its portcullis, and its great
gate, forty cubits high, stood in the court-yard.


When King Dagobert saw this, he embraced
Ranier, continued to him the title of his father,
whose ducal estates he restored to the son, and
sending for the Princess Isaurd, who appeared
radiant with joy and beauty, he betrothed the
young couple in the presence of the court.
So Ranier and Isaure were married, and lived
long and happily ; and, on the death of Dagobert.
Ranier reigned. As for the ax, that is lost, some-
how, and although I have made diligent inquiry, 1
have never been able to find where it is. Some
people think the fairy took it after King Ranier
died, and hid it again in a tree; and I recommend
all wood-choppers to look at the heart of every tree
they fell, for this wonderful ax. They cannot mis-
take it, since the word Boldness" is cut on the
blade, and the word "'Energy is printed, in letters
of gold, on the handle.


THE PAINTER'S SCARE-CROW.

BY C. P. CRANCH.

MIss Arabella Vandyke Brown
Had a small studio in the town,
Where, all the winter, blithe and gay,
She drew and painted day by day.
She envied not the rich. Her art
And work made sunshine in her heart.
Upon her canvas, many a scene
Of summers past, in golden green
Was wrought again. The snow and rain
Pelted upon her window-pane;
But she within her cozy room
With joyous toil dispelled the gloom;
And, sometimes, in an undertone,
Sang to herself there, all alone.

But, when the spring and summer came,
Her studio grew so dull and tame
She sought the rural solitudes
Of winding streams and shady woods;
For painters' works contract a taint
Unless from Nature's self they paint.

So out Miss Arabella went,
To sketch from Nature fully bent.
It was a lovely summer's day;
A lovely scene before her lay;


[SEPTEMBER,







THE PAINTER'S SCARE-CROW.


Her folding-stool and box she took,
And, seated in a quiet nook,
Her white umbrella o'er her head
(Like a tall giant mushroom spread),
Began to paint; when, lo! a noise
She heard. A troop of idle boys
Came ... I ... round her, rough and rude.
Some o'er her shoulders leaned; some stood
In front of her, and cried: "Paint me.!-
Mly picter I should like to see."
Some laughed, some shouted. "What a set!"
Said Arabella, in a pet:
And no policeman within hail
To send these ruffian imps to jail."
In fine, she could not work, so went
Straight homeward in great discontent.
She had no brother to defend her,
Nor country cousin to attend her.

-4-





E ,












A plan occurred to her next day
To keep these idle scamps away.
An easel by heir side she placed,
And over it she threw in haste
:* '. .&^ '.. ,,\ w ,, .
, 2 ( ,,. ,y, ,, -- -_. ... .




A plan occurred to her next day
To keep these idle scamps away.
An easel by her side she placed,
And over it she threw in haste
A hat and cloak:-and there it stood
In bold and threatening attitude.
The rabble at a distance spied
The scare-crow standing by her side;
And, thinking 't was the town-police,
They left Miss A. V. Brown in peace.

MORAL.
Sometimes, an innocent pretense
Is the best means of self-defense,
And if a scare-crow keeps the peace,
What need to summon the police?







UNDER THE LILACS.


Y NTi S.1) SIA WAVES.


UNDER THE 'LILACS.

BY LOUISA M. ALCoTT.


CHAPTER XXI.

CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE.

A PICNIC supper on the grass followed the games,
and then, as twilight began to fall, the young people
were marshaled to the coach-house, now trans-
formed into a rustic theater. One big door was
open, and seats, arranged lengthwise, faced the red
table-cloths which formed the curtain. A row of
lamps made very good foot-lights, and an invisible
band performed a Wagner-like overture on combs,
tin trumpets, drums, and pipes, with an accompa-
niment of suppressed laughter.


Many of the children had never seen anything
like it, and sat staring about them in mute admira-
tion and expectancy; but the older ones criticised
freely, and indulged in wild speculations as to the
meaning of various convulsions of nature going on
behind the curtain.
While Teacher was dressing the actresses for the
tragedy, Miss Celia and Thorny, who were old
hands at this sort of amusement, gave a Potato"
pantomime as a side show.
Across an empty stall a green cloth was fastened,
so high that the heads of the operators were not
seen. A little curtain flew up, disclosing the front


~ ~____~yl~


[SEPTE'rMBER,


'







UNDER THE LILACS.


of a Chinese pagoda painted on pasteboard, with a
door and window which opened quite naturally.
This stood on one side, several green trees with
paper lanterns hanging from the boughs were on
the other side, and the words "Tea Garden,"
printed over the top, showed the nature of this
charming spot.
Few of the children had ever seen the immortal
Punch and Judy, so this was a most agreeable
novelty, and before they could make out what it
meant, a voice began to sing, so distinctly that
every word was heard:

"In China there lived a little man,
His name was Chingery Wangery Chan."

Here the hero "took the stage" with great
dignity, clad in a loose yellow jacket over a blue
skirt, which concealed the hand that made his
body. A pointed hat adorned his head, and on
removing this to bow he disclosed a bald pate with
a black queue in the middle, and a Chinese face
nicely painted on the potato, the lower part of
which was hollowed out to fit Thorny's first finger,
while his thumb and second finger were in the
sleeves of the yellow jacket, making a lively pair
of arms. While he saluted, the song went on:

His legs were short, Iis feet were small,
And this little man could not walk at all."

Which assertion was proved to be false by the
agility with which the "little man danced a jig
in time to the rollicking chorus:

"Chingewl changery ri co day,
Ekel tekel happy man;
Uron odesko canty ol, oh,
Gallopy wallop China go."

At the close of the dance and chorus, Chan
retired into the tea garden, and drank so many
cups of the national beverage, with such comic
gestures, that the spectators were almost sorry
when the opening of the opposite window drew all
eyes in that direction. At the lattice appeared a
lovely being; for this potato had been pared, and
on the white surface were painted pretty pink
cheeks, red lips, black eyes, and oblique brows;
through the tuft of dark silk on the head were stuck
several glittering pins, and a pink jacket shrouded
the plump figure of this capital little Chinese lady.
After peeping coyly out, so that all could see and
adn-ire, she fell to counting the money fiom a
purse, so large her small hands could hardly hold
it on the window seat. While she did this, the song
went on to explain:
"Miss Ki Hi was short and squat,
She had money and he had not;
So ofl to her lie resolved to go,
And play her a tune otn his little banjo."


During the chorus to this verse Chan was seen
tuning his instrument in the garden, and at the
end sallied gallantly forth to sing the following
tender strain:
"Whang fun li,
Tang hua ki,
Hong Kong do ra me!
Ah sin lo,
Pan to fo,
'Tsing up chin leute!

Carried away by his passion, Chan dropped his
banjo, fell upon his knees, and, clasping his hands,
bowed his forehead in the dust before his idol.
But, alas !-

Miss Ki Hi heard Iis notes of love,
And held her wash-bowl up above;
It fell upon the little man,
And this was the end of Chingery Chan."

Indeed it was; for. as the doll's basin of real water
was cast forth by the cruel charmer, poor Chan
expired in such strong convulsions that his head
rolled down among the audience. Miss Ki Hi
peeped to see what had become of her victim, and
the shutter decapitated her likewise, to the great
delight of the children, who passed around the
heads, pronouncing a "Potato pantomime "first-
rate fun."
Then they settled themselves for the show, hav-
ing been assured by Manager Thorny that they
were about to behold the most elegant and varied
combination ever produced on any stage. And
when one reads the following very inadequate
description of the somewhat mixed entertainment,
it is impossible to deny that the promise made was
nobly kept.
After some delay and several crashes behind the
curtain, which mightily amused the audience, the
performance began with the well-known tragedy of
" Blue-beard "; for Bab had set her heart upon it,
and the young folks had acted it so often in their
plays that it was very easy to get up with a few
extra touches to scenery and costumes. Thorny
was superb as the tyrant with a beard of bright blue
worsted, a slouched hat and long feather, fur cloak,
red hose, rubber boots, and a real sword which
clanked t-, ,. 11 he walked. He spoke in such
a deep voice, knit his corked eyebrows, and glared
so frightfully, that it was no wonder poor Fatima
quaked before him as he gave into her keeping an
immense bunch of keys with one particularly big,
bright one, among them.
Bab was fine to see, with Miss Celia's blue dress
sweeping behind her, a white plume in her flowing
hair, and a real necklace with a pearl locket about
her neck. She did her part capitally, especially the
shriek she gave when she looked into the fatal
closet, the energy with which she scrubbed the tell-






UNDER THIE LILACS.


tale key, and her distracted tone when she called
out: Sister Anne, O, sister Anne, do you see
anybody coming?" while her enraged husband
was roaring: "Will you come down, madam, or
shall I come and fetch you ? "
Betty made a captivating Anne,-all in white
muslin, and a hat full of such lovely pink roses that
she could not help putting up one hand to feel
them as she stood on the steps looking out at the
little window for the approaching brothers, who
made such a din that it sounded like a dozen horse-
men instead of two.
Ben and Billy were got up regardless of expense
in the way of arms; for their belts were perfect
arsenals, and their wooden swords were big enough


This piece was rapturously applauded, and all the
performers had to appear and bow their thanks, led
by the defunct Blue-beard, who mildly warned the
excited audience that if they did n't look out the
walls would break down, and then there'd be a nice
mess." Calmed by this fear they composed them-
selves, and waited with ardor for the next play,
which promised to be a lively one, judging from the
shrieks of laughter which came from behind the
curtain.
Sanch 's going to be in it, I know, for I heard
Ben say, Hold him still; he wont bite,' whispered
Sam, longing to "jounce" up and down, so great
was his satisfaction at the prospect, for the dog was
considered the star of the company.


~~S;~-s: "dB1 -;'"


THE BLUE-BEARD GROUP.


to strike terror into any soul, though they struck no
sparks out of Blue-beard's blade in the awful combat
which preceded the villain's downfall and death.
The boys enjoyed this part intensely, and cries
of Go it, Ben Hit him again, Billy "Two
against one isn't fair! Thorny's a match for
em." "Now he's down, hurray cheered on the
combatants, till, after a terrific struggle, the tyrant
fell, and with convulsive twitchings of the scarlet
legs, slowly expired, while the ladies sociably fainted
in each others arms, and the brothers waved their
swords and shook hands over the corse of their
enemy.


"I hope Bab will do something else, she is so
funny. Was n't her dress elegant?" said Sally
Folsom, burning to wear a long silk gown and a
feather in her hair.
I like Betty best, she's so cunning, and she
peaked out of the window just as if she really saw
somebody coming," answered Liddy Peckham, pri-
vately resolving to tease mother for some pink roses
before another Sunday came.
Up went the curtain at last, and voice announced
"A Tragedy in Three Tableaux." "There's
Betty! was the general exclamation, as the audi-
ence recognized a familiar face under the little red


[SEPITEMBER,







UNDER TI


hood worn by the child who stood receiving a bas-
ket from Teacher, who made a nice mother with
her finger up, as if telling the small messenger not
to loiter by the way.
"I know what that is!" cried Sally; "it's
'Mabel on Midsummer Day.' The piece Miss Celia
spoke; don't you know ?"
There is n't any sick baby, and Mabel had a
'kerchief pinned about her head.' I say it's Red
Riding Hood," answered Liddy, who had begun to
learn Mary Howitt's pretty poem for her next piece,
and knew all about it.
The question was settled by the appearance of
the wolf in the second scene, and such a wolf! On
few amateur stages do we find so natural an actor
for that part, or so good a costume, for Sanch was
irresistibly droll in the gray wolf-skin which usually
lay beside Miss Celia's bed, now fitted over his
back and fastened neatly down underneath, with
his own face peeping out at one end, and the hand-
some tail bobbing gayly at the other. What a com-
fort that tail was to Sancho, none but a bereaved
bow-wow could ever tell. It reconciled him to his
distasteful part at once; it made rehearsals a joy,
and even before the public he could not resist turn-
ing to catch a glimpse of the noble appendage,
while his own brief member wagged with the proud
consciousness that though the tail did not match
the head, it was long enough to be seen of all men
and dogs.
That was a pretty picture, for the little maid
came walking in with the basket on her arm, and
such an innocent face inside the bright hood that
it was quite natural the gray wolf should trot up
to her with deceitful friendliness, that she should
pat and talk to him confidingly about the butter for
grandma, and then that they should walk away
together, he politely carrying her basket, she with
her hand on his head, little dreaming what evil
plans were taking shape inside.
The children encored that, but there was no
time to repeat it, so they listened to more stifled
merriment behind the red table-cloths, and won-
dered whether the next scene would be the wolf
popping his head out of the window as Red Riding
Hood knocks, or the tragic end of that sweet child.
It was neither, for a nice bed had been made,
and in it reposed the false grandmother, with a ruf-
fled nightcap on, a white gown, and spectacles.
Betty lay beside the wolf, staring at him as if just
about to say, Why, grandma, what great teeth
you've got! for Sancho's mouth was half open and
a red tongue hung out, as he panted with the
exertion of keeping still. This tableau was so very
good, and yet so funny, that the children clapped
and shouted frantically; this excited the dog, who
gave a bounce and would have leaped off the bed


IE LILACS. 719


to bark at the rioters, if Betty had not caught him
by the legs, and Thorny dropped the curtain just
at the moment when the wicked wolf was apparently
in the act of devouring the poor little girl, with
most effective growls.
They had to come out then, and did so, both
much disheveled by the late tussle, for Sancho's cap
was all over one eye, and Betty's hood was any-
where but on her head. She made her courtesy
prettily, however; her fellow-actor bowed with as
much dignity as a short night-gown permitted, and
they retired to their well-earned repose.
Then Thorny, looking much excited, appeared
to make the following request: "As one of the
actors in the next piece is new to the business, the
company must all keep as still as mice, and not
stir till I give the word. It's perfectly splendid! so
don't you spoil it by making a row."
What do you suppose it is?" asked every one,
and listened with all their might to get a hint, if
possible. But what they heard only whetted their
curiosity and mystified them more and more.
Bab's voice cried in a loud whisper, Is n't Ben
beautiful ? Then there was a thumping noise, and
Miss Celia said, in an anxious tone, Oh, do be
careful," while Ben laughed out as if he was too
happy to care who heard him, and Thorny bawled
Whoa in a way which would have attracted
attention if Lita's head had not popped out of her
box, more than once, to survey the invaders of her
abode, with a much astonished expression.
"Sounds kind of circusy, don't it?" said Sam
to Billy, who had come out to receive the compli-
ments of the company and enjoy the tableau at a
safe distance.
You just wait till you see what's coming. It
beats any circus I ever saw," answered Billy, rub-
bing his hands with the air of a man who had seen
many instead of but one.
"'Ready? Be quick and get out of the way
when she goes off! whispered Ben, but they heard
him and prepared for pistols, rockets or combusti-
bles of some sort, as ships were impossible under
the circumstances, and no other she" occurred
to them.
A unanimous O-o-o-o was heard when the
curtain rose, but a stern Hush from Thorny
kept them mutely staring with all their eyes at the
grand spectacle of the evening. There stoed Lita
with a wide flat saddle on her back, a white head-
stall and reins, blue rosettes in her ears, and the
look of a much-bewildered beast in her bright eyes.
But who the gauzy, spangled, winged creature was,
with a gilt crown on its head, a little bow in its
hand, and one white slipper in the air, while the
other seemed merely to touch the saddle, no one
could tell for a minute, so strange and splendid did







UNDER THE LILACS


the apparition appear. No wonder Ben was not
recognized in this brilliant disguise, which was more
natural to him than Billy's blue flannel or Thorny's
respectable garments. He had so begged to be
allowed to show himself "just once," as he used
to be in the days when father tossed him up on
bare-backed old General, for hundreds to see and
admire, that Miss Celia had consented, much
against her will, and hastily arranged some bits of
spangled tarletan over the white cotton suit which
was to simulate the regulation tights. Her old
dancing slippers fitted, and gold paper did the
rest, while Ben, sure of his power over Lita,
promised not to break his bones, and lived for days
on the thought of the moment when he could show
the boys that he had not boasted vainly of past
splendors.
Before the delighted children could get their
breath, Lita gave signs of her dislike to the foot-
lights, and, gathering up the reins that lay on her
neck, Ben gave the old cry, Houp-la and let
her go, as he had often done before, straight
out of the coach-house for a gallop round the
orchard.
Just turn about and you can see perfectly well,
but stay where you are till he comes back," com-
manded Thorny, as signs of commotion appeared
in the excited audience.
Round went the twenty children as if turned by
one crank, and sitting there they looked out into
the moonlight where the shining figure flashed to
and fro, now so near they could see the smiling face
under the crown, now so far away that it glittered
like a fire-fly among the dusky green. Lita enjoyed
that race as heartily as she had done several others
of late, and caracoled about as if anxious to make up
for her lack of skill by speed and obedience. How
much Ben liked it there is no need to tell, yet it
was a proof of the good which three months of a
quiet, useful life had done him, that even as he
pranced gayly under the boughs thick with the red
and yellow apples almost ready to be gathered,
he found this riding in the fresh air with only his
mates for an audience pleasanter than the crowded
tent, the tired horses, profane men, and painted
women, friendly as some of them had been
to him.
After the first burst was over, he felt rather glad,
on the whole, that he was going back to plain
clothes, helpful school, and kindly people, who
cared more to have him a good boy than the most
famous Cupid that ever stood on one leg with a fast
horse under him.
You may make as much noise as you like, now;
Lita's had her run and will be as quiet as a lamb
after it. Pull up, Ben, and come in; sister says
you '11 get cold," shouted Thorny, as the rider came


cantering round after a leap over the lodge gate
and back again.
So Ben pulled up, and the admiring boys and
girls were allowed to gather about him, loud in
their praises as they examined the pretty mare and
the mythological character who lay easily upon her
back. He looked very little like the god of love
now; for he had lost one slipper and splashed his
white legs with dew and dust, the crown had slipped
down upon his neck, and the paper wings hung in
an apple-tree where he had left them as he went
by. No trouble in recognizing Ben, now; but
somehow he did n't want to be seen, and, instead
of staying to be praised, he soon slipped away,
making Lita his excuse to vanish behind the
curtain while the rest went into the house to have
a finishing-off game of blindman's-buff in the big
kitchen.
"Well, Ben, are you satisfied?" asked Miss
Celia, as she stayed a moment to unpin the remains
of his gauzy scarf and tunic.
"Yes 'in, thank you, it was tip-top."
But you look rather sober. Are you tired, or
is it because you don't want to take these trappings
off and be plain Ben again ?" she said, looking
down into his face as he lifted it for her to free him
from his gilded collar.
I wzant to take 'em off; for somehow I don't
feel respectable," and he kicked away the crown he
had help to make so carefully, adding with a glance
that said more than his words: "I'd rather be
' plain Ben than any one else, if you 'd like to have
me."
Indeed I do; and I'm so glad to hear you say
that, because I was afraid you'd long to be off
to the old ways, and all I've tried to do would
be undone. Would you like to go back, Ben?"
and Miss Celia held his chin an instant, to
watch the brown face that looked so honestly back
at her.
No, I would n't -unless he was there and
wanted me."
The chin quivered just a bit, but the black eyes
were as bright as ever, and the boy's voice so ear-
nest, she knew he spoke the truth, and laid her
white hand softly on his head, as she answered in
the tone he loved so much, because no one else had
ever used it to him:
"Father is not there ; but I know he wants you,
dear, and I am sure he would rather see you in a
home like this than in the place you came from.
Now go and dress; but, tell me first, has it been a
happy birthday ? "
Oh, Miss Celia! I did n't know they could be
so beautiful, and this is the beautifulest part of it;
I don't know how to thank you, but I 'm going to
try-- and, finding words would n't come fast


720


[SEI'TEMBEII,






UNDER THE LILACS.


enough, Ben just put his two arms round her, quite
speechless with gratitude ; then, as if ashamed of
his little outburst, he knelt down in a great hurry
to untie his one shoe.


MISS CELIA AND BEN.
But Miss Celia liked his answer better than the
finest speech ever made her, and went away through
the moonlight, saying to herself:
If I can bring one lost lamb into the fold, I shall
be the fitter for a shepherd's wife, by and by."

CHAPTER XXII.
A BOY'S BARGAIN.
IT was some days before the children were tired
of talking over Ben's birthday party; for it was a
great event in their small world; but, gradually,
newer pleasures came to occupy their minds, and
they began to plan the nutting frolics which always
followed the early frosts. While waiting for Jack
to open the chestnut burrs, theyvaried the monot-
ony of school life by a lively scrimmage long known
as "the wood-pile fight."
The girls liked to play in the half-empty shed,
and the boys, merely for the fun of teasing, declared
that they should not, so blocked up the door-way as
fast as the girls cleared it. Seeing that the squab-
ble was a merry one, and the exercise better for
all than lounging in the sun or reading in school
during recess, Teacher did not interfere, and the
barrier rose and fell almost as regularly as the tide.
VOL. V.-48.


It would be difficult to say which side worked the
harder; for the boys went before school began to
build up the barricade, and the girls stayed after
lessons were over to pull down the last one made in
afternoon recess. They had their play-time first,
and, while the boys waited inside, they heard the
shouts of the girls, the banging of the wood, and
the final crash as the well-packed pile went down.
Then, as the lassies came in, rosy, breathless, and
triumphant, the lads rushed out to man the breach,
and labor gallantly till all was as tight as hard
blows could make it.
So the battle raged, and bruised knuckles, splin-
ters in fingers, torn clothes, and rubbed shoes, were
the only wounds received, while a great deal of fun
was had out of the maltreated logs, and a lasting
peace secured between two of the boys.
When the party was safely over, Sam began to
fall into his old way of tormenting Ben by calling
names, as it cost no exertion to invent trying
speeches and slyly utter them when most likely to
annoy; Ben bore it as well as he could, but fortune
favored him at last, as it usually does the patient,
and he was able to make his own terms with his
tormentor.
When the girls demolished the wood-pile they
performed a jubilee chorus on combs, and tin kettles
played like tambourines; the boys celebrated their
victories with shrill whistles, and a drum accompa-
niment with fists on the shed walls. Billy brought
his drum, and this was such an addition that Sam
hunted up an old one of his little brother's, in order
that he might join the drum corps. He had no
sticks, however, and, casting about in his mind for
a good substitute for the genuine thing, bethought
him of bulrushes.
"Those will do first-rate, and there are lots in
the ma'sh, if I can only get 'em," he said to him-
self, and turned off from the road on his way home
to get a supply.
Now, this marsh was a treacherous spot, and the
tragic story was told of a cow who got in there and
sank till nothing was visible but a pair of horns
above the mud, which suffocated the unwary beast.
For this reason it was called Cowslip Marsh," the
wags said, though it was generally believed to be so
named for the yellow flowers which grew there in
great profusion in the spring.
Sam had seen Ben hop nimbly from one tuft of
grass to another when he went to gather cowslips
for Betty, and the stout boy thought he could do
the same. Two or three heavy jumps landed him,
not among the bulrushes as he had hoped, but in
a pool of muddy water where he sank up to his
middle with alarming rapidity. Much scared, he
tried to wade out, but could only flounder to a
tussock of grass and cling there while he endeavored







UNDER THE LILACS.


to kick his legs free. He got them out, but strug-
gled in vain to coil them up or to hoist his heavy
body upon the very small island in this sea of mud.
Down they splashed again, and Sam gave a dismal
groan as he thought of the leeches and water-snakes
which might be lying in wait below. Visions of
the lost cow also flashed across his agitated mind,
and he gave a despairing shout very like a distracted
"Moo! "
Few people passed along the lane, and the sun
was setting, so the prospect of a night in the marsh
nerved Sam to make a frantic plunge toward the
bulrush island, which was nearer than the main-
land, and looked firmer than any tussock around
him. But he failed to reach this haven of rest, and
was forced to stop at an old stump which stuck up,
looking very like the moss-grown horns of the
"dear departed." Roosting here, Sam began to
shout for aid in every key possible to the human
voice. Such hoots and howls, whistles and roars,
never woke the echoes of the lonely marsh before,
or scared the portly frog who resided there in calm
seclusion.
He hardly expected any reply but the astonished
"Caw!" of the crow, who sat upon a fence watch-
ing him with gloomy interest, and when a cheerful
"Hullo, there sounded from the lane, he was so
grateful that tears of joy rolled down his fat cheeks.
Come on! I'm in the ma'sh. Lend a hand
and get me out!" bawled Sam, anxiously waiting for
his deliverer to appear, for he could only see a hat
bobbing along behind the hazel-bushes that fringed
the lane.
Steps crashed through the bushes, and then over
the wall came an active figure, at the sight of
which Sam was almost ready to dive out of sight,
for, of all possible boys, who should it be but Ben,
the last person in the world whom he would like to
have see him in his present pitiful plight.
Is it you, Sam ? Well, you are in a nice fix "
and Ben's eyes began to twinkle with mischievous
merriment, as well they might, for Sam certainly
was a spectacle to convulse the soberest person.
Perched unsteadily on the gnarled stump, with his
muddy legs drawn up, his dismal face splashed
with mud, and the whole lower half of his body as
black as if he had been dipped in an inkstand, he
presented such a comically doleful object that Ben
danced about, laughing like a naughty will-o'-the-
wisp who, having led a traveler astray, then fell to
jeering at him.
Stop that or I'11 knock your head off," roared
Sam, in a rage.
Come on and do it, I give you leave," answered
Ben, sparring away derisively as the other tottered
on his perch and was forced to hold tight lest he
should tumble off.


"Don't laugh, there 's a good chap, but fish me
out somehow or I shall get my death sitting here
all wet and cold," whined Sam, changing his tone,
and feeling bitterly that Ben had the upper hand
now.
Ben felt it also, and though a very good natured
boy, could not resist the temptation to enjoy this
advantage for a moment at least.
I wont laugh if I can help it, only you do look
so like a fat, speckled frog I may not be able to hold
in. I'll pull you out pretty soon, but first I'm
going to talk to you, Sam," said Ben, sobering
down as he took a seat on the little point of land
nearest the stranded Samuel.
"Hurry up, then; I 'm as stiff as a board now,
and it's no fun sitting here on this knotty old
thing," growled Sam, with a discontented squirm.
Dare say not, but 'it is good for you,' as you
say when you rap me over the head. Look here,
I 've got you in a tight place, and I don't mean to
help you a bit till you promise to let me alone.
Now then and Ben's face grew stern with his
remembered wrongs as he grimly eyed his dis-
comfited foe.
"I'll promise fast enough if you wont tell any
one about this," answered Sam, surveying himself
and his surroundings with great disgust.
I shall do as I like about that."
"Then I wont promise a thing I'm not going
to have the whole school laughing at me," protested
Sam, who hated to be ridiculed even more than
Ben did.
"Very well; good-night and Ben walked off
with his hands in his pockets as coolly as if the bog
was Sam's favorite retreat.
Hold on, don't be in such a hurry shouted
Sam, seeing little hope of rescue if he let this
chance go.
All right! and back came Ben ready for fur-
ther negotiations.
I'11 promise not to plague you if you '11 promise
not to tell on me. Is that what you want ? "
"Now I come to think of it, there is one thing
more. I like to make a good bargain when I begin,"
said Ben, with a shrewd air. You must promise
to keep Mose quiet, too. He follows your lead,
and if you tell him to stop it he will. If I was big
enough I'd make you hold your tongues. I aint,
so we'll try this way."
"Yes, yes, I'll see to Mose. Now, bring on a
rail, there's a good fellow. I've got a horrid cramp
in my legs," began Sam, thinking he had bought
help dearly, yet admiring Ben's cleverness in
making the most of his chance.
Ben brought the rail, but just as he was about to
lay it from the main-land to the nearest tussock, he
stopped, saying, with the naughty twinkle in his


[SEPTEMBER,






IS78. UNDER TIE LILACS. 723



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"'"' I -,,II I Ir s
-" _" ,I l . .. . : .
'-. .































ust be settled rst, and then I'll et you
S
'I ct1" r .rn s r"'k r e p.F
































Glad of it; she can take care of herself. '
ashore. Poi se' yo. wotp.cteg'ois



9,i.i h an t



























either, 'specially Dal) and Bet., You pul p .-'

for a dollar ; she sc.tc..es ard bites li e a
mad cat," was Sam's sulk y repl1
,Glad of it; she n take ce of ref
black eyes agia 'O e oelte thn -.,,




for dolar shescrtchs ma bies ike il ._ _
mad~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~ caI a a' uk el.''I'-T_--=--
Gad f i ;shecntk aeofhref J






UNDER THE LILACS.


I should think you'd written 'Look before you
leap,' in your copy-book often enough to get the
idea into your stupid head. Come, crook," com-
manded Ben, leaning forward with extended little
finger.
Sam obediently performed the ceremony, and
then Ben sat astride one of the horns of the stump
while the muddy Crusoe went slowly across the rail
from point to point till he landed safely on the
shore, when he turned about and asked with an
ungrateful jeer:
"Now, what's going to become of you, old
Look-before-you-leap ? "
Mud-turtles can only sit on a stump and bawl
till they are taken off, but frogs have legs worth
something, and are not afraid of a little water,"
answered Ben, hopping away in an opposite direc-
tion, since the pools between him and Sam were
too wide for even his lively legs.
Sam waddled off to the brook above the marsh
to rinse the mud from his nether man before facing
his mother, and was just wringing himself out
when Ben came up, breathless but good-natured,
for he felt that he had made an excellent bargain
for himself and friends.
Better wash your face; it's as speckled as a
tiger-lily. Here 's my handkerchief if yours is
wet," he said, pulling out a dingy article which had
evidently already done service as a towel.
Don't want it," muttered Sam, gruffly, as he
poured the water out of his muddy shoes.
"I was taught to say 'Thanky' when folks got
me out of scrapes. But you never had much bring-
ing up, though you do 'live in a house with a
gambrel roof,'" retorted Ben, sarcastically quoting
Sam's frequent boast; then he walked off, much
disgusted with the ingratitude of man.
Sam forgot his manners, but he remembered his
promise, and kept it so well that all the school
wondered. No one could guess the secret of Ben's
power over him, though it was evident that he had
gained it in some sudden way, for at the least sign of
Sam's former tricks Ben would crook his little finger
and wag it warningly, or call out "Bulrushes!"
and Sam subsided with reluctant submission, to the
great amazement of his mates. When asked what
it meant, Sam turned sulky; but Ben had much
fun out of it, assuring the other boys that those
were the signs and pass-word of a secret society to
which he and Sam belonged, and promised to tell
them all about it if Sam would give him leave,
which, of course, he would not.
This mystery, and the vain endeavors to find it
out, caused a lull in the war of the wood-pile, and
before any new game was invented something hap-
pened which gave the children plenty to talk about
for a time.


A week after the secret alliance was formed, Ben
ran in one evening with a letter for Miss Celia.
He found her enjoying the cheery blaze of the pine-
cones the little girls had picked up for her, and
Bab and Betty sat in the small chairs rocking luxu-
riously as they took turns to throw on the pretty
fuel. Miss Celia turned quickly to receive the ex-
pected letter, glanced at the writing, post-mark
and stamp, with an air of delighted surprise, then
clasped it close in both hands, saying, as she hur-
ried out of the room:
"He has come! he has come! Now you may
tell them, Thorny."
"Tell us what?" asked Bab, pricking up her
ears at once.
"Oh, it's only that George has come, and I sup-
pose we shall go and get married right away,"
answered Thorny, rubbing his hands as if he
enjoyed the prospect.
Are you going to be married ?" asked Betty, so
soberly that the boys shouted, and Thorny, with
difficulty, composed himself sufficiently to explain.
"No, child, not just yet; but sister is, and I
must go and see that is all done up ship-shape, and
bring you home some wedding-cake. Ben will
take care of you while I 'm gone."
When shall you go ?" asked Bab, beginning to
long for her share of cake.
To-morrow, I guess. Celia has been packed
and ready for a week. We agreed to meet George
in New York, and be married as soon as he got
his best clothes unpacked. We are men of our
word, and off we go. Wont it be fun ?"
But when will you come back again?" ques-
tioned Betty, looking anxious.
"Don't know. Sister wants to come soon, but
I 'd rather have our honeymoon somewhere else,-
Niagara, Newfoundland, West Point, or the Rocky
Mountains," said Thorny, mentioning a few of the
places he most desired to see.
Do you like him ? asked Ben, very naturally
wondering if the new master would approve of the
young man-of-all-work.
"Don't I? George is regularly jolly; though
now he's a minister, perhaps he '11 stiffen up and
turn sober. Wont it be a shame if he does?" and
Thorny looked alarmed at the thought of losing his
congenial friend.
Tell about him; Miss Celia said you might,"
put in Bab, whose experience of "jolly ministers
had been small.
Oh, there isn't much about it. We met in
Switzerland going up Mount St. Bernard in a
storm, and- "
Where the good dogs live?" inquired Betty,
hoping they would come into the story.
Yes; we spent the night up there, and George


[SEPTEMBER,







UNDER THE LILACS.


gave us his room; the house was so full, and he
would n't let me go down a steep place where I
wanted to, and Celia thought he'd saved my life,
and was very good to him. Then we kept meet-
ing, and the first thing I knew she went and was
engaged to him. I didn't care, only she would
come home so he might go on studying hard and
get through quick. That was a year ago, and last
winter we were in New York at uncle's; and then,
in the spring, I was sick, and we came here, and
that's all."
Shall you live here always when you come
back ? asked Bab, as Thorny paused for breath.
Celia wants to. I shall go to college, so I
don't mind. George is going to help the old min-
ister here and see how he likes it. I'm to study
with him, and if he is as pleasant as he used to be
we shall have capital times,-see if we don't."
I wonder if he will want me round," said Ben,
feeling no desire to be a tramp again.
"I do, so you need n't fret about that, my
hearty," answered Thorny, with a resounding slap
on the shoulder which re-assured Ben more than
any promises.
I 'd like to see a live wedding, then we could
play it with our dolls. I've got a nice piece of
mosquito netting for a veil, and Belinda's white
dress is clean. Do you s'pose Miss Celia will ask
us to hers?" said Betty to Bab, as the boys began
to discuss St. Bernard dogs with spirit.
I wish I could, dears," answered a voice behind
them, and there was Miss Celia, looking so happy
that the little girls wondered what the letter could


have said to give her such bright eyes and smiling
lips. "I shall not be gone long, or be a bit
changed when I come back, to live among you
years I hope, for I am fond of the old place now,
and mean it shall be home," she added, caressing
the yellow heads as if they were dear to her.
Oh, goody !" cried Bab, while Betty whispered
with both arms round Miss Celia:
I don't think we could bear to have anybody
else come here to live."
It is very pleasant to hear you say that, and I
mean to make others feel so, if I can. I have been
trying a little this summer, but when I come back
I shall go to work in earnest to be a good minister's
wife, and you must help me."
We will," promised both children, ready for
anything except preaching in the high pulpit.
Then Miss Celia turned to Ben, saying, in the
respectful way that always made him feel, at least,
twenty-five:
We shall be off to-morrow, and I leave you in
charge. Go on just as if we were here, and be
sure nothing will be changed as far as you are con-
cerned when we come back."
Ben's face beamed at that; but the only way he
could express his relief was by making such a blaze
in honor of the occasion that he nearly roasted the
company.
Next morning, the brother and sister slipped
quietly away, and the children hurried to school,
eager to tell the great news that Miss Celia and
Thorny had gone to be married, and were coming
back to live here forever and ever."


(To be continued.)


--


,2 P .. ___

7:7,,
-.A-S i~ I ---- 1 -
.; .1~-


SATURDAY AFTERNOON.







MY ST. GEORGE.



LITTLE BEAR.

BY SAMUEL W. DUFFIELD.


~...


, _


THERE lives with us an Indian-
A Paw-knee, I declare-
And he utters dreadful war-whoops,
And his name is Little Bear.

A braver foe in a battle,
When his hands are in your hair,
There 'is none in all my knowledge
Than this same Little Bear.


But when the firelight shining
Lights the room up with its glare,
I often camp on the hearth-rug,
Good friends with Little Bear.

And I 'm very sure I should miss him
If ever he was n't there-
This irrepressible Indian,
By the name of Little Bear I


MY ST. GEORGE.

BY ALICE MADE EDDY.


IT is ten years ago to-day since Georgie May and
I went to Captain Kidd's Cave" after sea-urchins.
Georgie was a neighbor's child with whom I had
played ,all my short life, and whom I loved almost
as dearly as my own brothers. Such a brave, bright
face he had, framed by sunny hair where the sum-
mers had dropped gold dust as they passed him by.
I can see him now as he stood that day on the firm


sand of the beach, with his brown eyes glowing and
his plump hand brandishing a wooden sword which
he himself had made, and painted with gorgeous
figures of red and yellow.
You see, Allie," he was saying, his name was
Saint George, and he was a knight. And so there
was a great dragon with a fiery crest. And so he
went at him, and killed him; and he married the


ESEI'TEMBER,


;`i
`4
---





MY ST. GEORGE


princess, and they lived happy ever after. I'd
have killed him, too, if I'd been there !"
Could you kill a dragon?" I asked, rather
timidly.
Course I could !" replied the young champion.
"I 'd have a splendid white horse,-no, a black one,
-and a sword like Jack the Giant Killer's, and-
and-oh, and an invisible ring! I'd use him up
pretty quick. Then I 'd cut off his head and give
it to the princess, and we 'd have a feast of jelly-
cake, and cream candy, and then I would marry
her "
I could only gasp admiringly at this splendid
vision.
"But mamma said," went on Georgie, more
thoughtfully, "that there are dragons now; and
she said she would like me to be a Saint George.
She 's going to tell some more to-night, but there 's
getting angry, that's a dragon, and wanting to be
head of everything, that's another, and she and me
are going to fight 'em. We said so."
But how? I asked, with wide open eyes. I
don't see any dragon when I 'm angry !"
Oh, you 're a girl," said Georgie, consolingly;
and we ran on contentedly, wading across the shal-
low pools of salt water, clambering over the rocks,
and now and then stopping to pick up a bright
pebble or shell. The whole scene comes vividly
before me as I think of it now:-the gray and
brown cliffs, with their sharp crags and narrow
clefts half choked up by the fine, sifting sand, the
wet "snappers" clinging to the rocks along the
water's edge; the sea itself clear and blue in the
bright afternoon, and the dancing lights where the
sunbeams struck its rippling surface. A light wind
blew across the bay. It stirred in Georgie's curls,
and swept about us both as if playing with us. We
grew happier and happier, and when at last we saw
"Captain Kidd's Cave" just before us, we were in
the wildest spirits, and almost sorry that our walk
was ended.
There was plenty to be seen in the cave, how-
ever, beside the excitement of searching for the
pirate's treasures, which the country people said
were buried there. The high rocks met, forming a
wide, arched cavern with a little crevice in the roof,
through which we could just see the clear sky.
The firm floor was full of smaller stones, which we
used for seats, and one high crag almost hid the
entrance. It was delicious to creep through the
low door-way, and to sit in the cool twilight that
reigned there, listening to the song of the winds
and waters outside, or to clamber up and down the
steep sides of the cave, playing that we were cast-
aways on a desert island. We played, also, that I
was a captive princess, and Georgie killed a score of
dragons in my defense. We were married, too, with


the little knight's sword stuck in the sand for the
clergyman. Quite tired out, at last, we went into
the cave and sat on the sand-strewn floor, telling
stories and talking of dragons and fairies, until a
drop of rain suddenly fell through the cleft in the
roof. Georgie sprang up.
We must go home, Allie !" he cried. "What
if we were to be caught in a shower !"
Just as he was speaking, a peal of thunder crashed
and boomed right above us, and I clung to the
boy, sobbing for very terror.
0 Georgie !" I cried, don't go out. We '11
be killed! Oh, what shall we do?"
But Georgie only laughed blithely, saying, "No,
we wont go if you don't want to. Let's play it's a
concert and the thunder 's a drum. It will be over
in a minute," and he began to whistle Yankee
Doodle," in which performance I vainly endeavored
to join. But as time went on, and the storm be-
came more violent, we were both frightened, and
climbing to a ledge about half-way up the wall, sat
silent, clinging to each other, and crying a little as
the lightning flashed more and more vividly. Yet,
even in his own terror, Georgie was careful for me,
and tried to cheer me and raise my heart. Dear
little friend, I am grateful for it now !
At last, leaning forward, I saw that the water
was creeping into the cave and covering the floor
with shallow, foaming waves. Then, indeed, we
were frightened. What if the rising tide had
covered the rocks outside ? We should have to stay
all night in that lonely place ; for, though the tide
went down before midnight, the way was long and
difficult, and we could not return in the darkness.
Hurry, Allie! cried Georgie, scrambling down
the side of the cave. We can wade, may be."
I followed him, and we crept out upon the beach.
The water had risen breast high already, and I was
nearly thrown down by the force with which it
met me.
Lean on me, Allie," said Georgie, throwing his
arm about me and struggling onward. We must
get to the rocks as soon as we can."
It was with great difficulty that we passed over
the narrow strip of sand below the high cliffs. I
clung wildly to Georgie, trying in vain to keep a
firm footing on the treacherous sand, that seemed
slipping from beneath my feet at every step.
The water had reached my neck. I cried out
with terror as I felt myself borne from my feet.
But Georgie kept hold of me, and bracing ourselves
against the first low rock, we waited the coming of
the great green wave that rolled surging toward us,
raising its whitening crest high over our heads. It
broke directly above us, and for a moment we stood
dizzy with the shock, and half blinded by the dash-
ing salt spray. Then we rantbn as swiftly as was


727






MY ST. GEORGE.


possible in the impeding water. Fortunately for
us, the next wave broke before it reached us, for in
the rapidly rising tide we could not have resisted it.
We were thoroughly exhausted when, after a few
more struggles, we at last climbed the first cliff and
sat on the top, resting and looking about us for a
means of escape. It was impossible for us to scale
the precipice that stretched along the beach. We
must keep to the lower crags at its foot for a mile
before we could reach the firm land. This, in the
gathering twilight, was a difficult and dangerous
thing to attempt. Yet there was no other way of
escape. We could not return to the cave. I shud-
dered as I looked at the foaming waves that rolled
between us and it.
"What shall we do, Georgie?" I cried. "I
can't be drowned !"
"Hush, Allie! answered Georgie, bravely;
" we must go right on, of course. This place will
be covered soon. Take off your shoes. You can
climb easier. There now take hold of my hand.
I 'll jump over to that rock and help you to come
on, too "
Well was it for me that Georgie was a strong,
agile boy, head and shoulders taller than I. I
needed all his help in the homeward journey. I
tremble even yet as I think of the perils of the
half mile that we traversed before darkness fell.
The rough rocks tore our hands and feet as we
clambered painfully over them. They were slip-
pery with sea-weed and wet with the waves that
from time to time rolled across them. More than
once I slipped and would have fallen into the raging
water below, but for Georgie's sustaining arm.
Looking back now to that dark evening, Georgie's
bravery and presence of mind seem wonderful to
me. He spoke little, only now and then directing
me where to place my feet, but his strong, boyish
hand held mine in a firm grasp, and his clear eyes
saw just when to seize the opportunity, given by a
receding wave, to spring from one rock to another.
"Georgie, shall we ever reach home?" I sighed
at last as we gained the end of a spur of rock over
which we had been walking. Georgie made no an-
swer, and I turned, in surprise, to look at him. His
face was very white, and his great eyes were staring
out into the twilight with such a frightened gaze that
I looked about me with a sudden increase of terror.
I had thought the worst of the way over, and in the
gathering darkness had hardly noticed where we
were going, following Georgie with perfect trust in
his judgment. Now I suddenly saw that we could
proceed no farther. We stood, as I have said, on
a long ridge of rock. Before us, at our very feet,
was the wildly surging water, tearing at the rocks
as if to wrest them from their foundation. Beyond,
we could see the strong cliffs again, but far out of


reach. Behind were only the narrow rocks over
which we had come; and on either side the cruel
sea cut us off from all hope of gaining the land.
I sank on the slippery sea-weed, in an agony of ter-
ror, sobbing out my mother's name. Georgie sat
down beside me. Don't cry, Allie he said, in
a trembling voice. Please don't We may be
saved yet. Perhaps they '11 come after us in a boat.
Or we can stay here till morning."
"But oh! I want to go home I want mamma,"
I sobbed; and I'm so cold and tired, and my feet
ache so 0 Georgie, can't we go on?"
Georgie was silent for a few moments. No,"
he said, at last, we must stay here, but don't be
afraid. Here, I 'm not cold, take my coat, and
I'11 tie our handkerchiefs round your feet. There,
lean on me, now. We must hold on to the rock,
you know, or we might tumble. Now, let's both
scream 'help' as loud as we can. May be, some
one will hear us and come."
But though we shouted till we were hoarse, the
only answering voices were those of the roaring
wind and the wild sea water."
It was quite dark now. I could see nothing as I
clung there, half sitting, half lying, with my face
on Georgie's shoulder. Strangely vivid were the
pictures that passed before my closed eyes. I saw
my pretty nursery, with the clear lamplight falling
on the pictured walls and the little white beds; I
saw my mother seated by the fire, with the baby in
her arms, and heard her low, sweet voice singing:

"Sleep, baby, sleep,
Thy father watches the sheep!"

I saw my father, laughing and frolicking with
my little brothers, as his wont was on a leisure even-
ing. How I longed to be among them. Then my
hair, blowing across my eyes, blotted out the
pleasant picture, and the hoarse shouting of the
sea drove the sweet cradle-song from my ears.
Georgie's voice stopped my weary sobbing.
"Allie," he said, softly, "mamma told me that
true knights prayed for help when they were fight-
ing. So I shall ask God to help us now. I think
He will."
Then, clear and soft, amid the roaring of the
storm, arose the childish voice repeating his even-
ing prayer:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep!
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."

I felt a little quieter when he had finished.
Georgie's strong, sweet faith strengthened me
unawares, and involuntarily I repeated the little
prayer after him. Then we were silent for a long
time. I was strangely weak and weary. The fear


[SEPTEMBER,







MY ST. GEORGE.


of death was gone now; I thought no more of even
my mother. I think I was fast lapsing into uncon-
sciousness when Georgie's voice half aroused me.
"Allie Allic he cried. "Wake up! You are
slipping down 0, Allie, dear, do try to get up !
You 'll be drowned But even this failed to
arouse me from the stupor into which I had fallen.


warm tears were falling on my head, and the scent
of roses was in the air. Where was I? Was this
my own little bed, with its snowy curtains and soft,
fresh pillows ? Was Baby Robin lying beside me,
stroking my cheek with his tiny hand ? I was not
dead, then ? Where were the water and the cold
sea-weed ? A kiss fell on my forehead, and a voice


-"C


S- -~_
_ ~ -_ ,

:---_-





= :_ -


- "- -- "": -"' ,- -

,-. f-. -" : --K '






UN 'HE lOCK.
I felt myself slipping from my seat. Already my murmured soft love-words in my ear. "Allie my
feet were in the icy water, and the spray was dash- little girl Mamma's darling "
ing about my face. I heard Georgie call me once Then I raised my head and looked straight into
again, felt my hands firmly grasped in his, and then my mother's sweet, tearful eyes. Mamma," I
I knew nothing more. said, throwing my arms around her neck, 0,
* mamma, I was so afraid I wanted you so "
Alice, dear little Alice I opened my eyes But you are safe, Allie, now. Lie down again,
at the words. Somebody's arms were about me; dear. You are weak yet."


-i


3.






BORN IN PRISON.


So I lay back on the soft pillow with a feeling of
rest and content in my heart, such as had never
been there before. I cared to ask no questions.
It was enough that I was safe, with mfy mother
beside my bed and the early sunbeams flickering
on the wall opposite. It was a long time before I
thought of even Georgie. When I asked for him,
mamma's eyes filled with tears. Dear Allie,"
she said, Georgie saved your life. My little girl
would have been taken away from me, but for him.
He caught you when you slipped, and, tired as he
was, held you up till help came. He fainted as
soon as papa took him into the boat. We thought


you were both dead Her voice broke in a sob,
and she clasped me closer in her arms. He is
better now," she went on. Allie, we must never
forget his courage. Thank God, he was with
you "
'"Mamma, 0 mamma! I cried, "he said he
was trying to be like Saint George. Is n't he like
him? He saved me, and he prayed there in the
dark-and, 0 mamma, I love him so for it "
"Yes, Allie," answered my mother, "not one of
the old knights was braver than ours, and not one
of all the saints did better service in the sight of
God than our little Saint George last night."


BORN IN PRISON.

BY JULIA P. BALLARD.


I AM only a day old I wonder if every butterfly
comes into the world to find such queer things about
him? I was born in prison. I can see right through
my walls; but I can't find any door. Right below
me (for I have climbed up the wall) lies a queer-
looking, empty box. It is clear, and a pale green.
It is all in one piece, only a little slit in the top. I
wonder what came out of it. Close by it there is
another green box, long and narrow, but not empty,
and no slit in the top. I wonder what is in it.
Near it is a smooth, green caterpillar, crawling on
the edge of a bit of cabbage-leaf. I 'm afraid that
bright light has hurt my eyes. It was just outside
of my prison wall, and bright as the sun. The first
thing I remember, even before my wings had
opened wide, or I was half through stretching my
feet to see if I could use them in climbing, there
was a great eye looking at me. Something round
was before it, with a handle. I suppose it was a
quizzing-glass to see what I was about. I heard
somebody say, Oh oh twice, just as if they
wondered I was here. Then they held the great
bright light close to the wall till my eyes were daz-
zled. I don't like this prison. It is n't worth while
to fly about. It seems as if I ought to have more
room. There must be something inside that green
box. It moves! I saw it half tip over then, all of
itself. I believe that caterpillar is afraid of it. He
creeps off slowly toward the wall. How smooth
and green he is! How his rings move when he
crawls! Now he is gone up the wall. He has
stopped near the roof. How he throws his head


from side to side He is growing broader! He
looks just as if he was turning into one of these
-CZ- --....
i ,,


THE PRISONERS.
green boxes! How that box shakes! There, I
see it begin to open There is a slit coming in the
back Something peeps out A butterfly's head, I


[SEPTEMBER,







HOW LILY-TOES WAS CAUGHT IN A SHOWER.


declare! Here it comes,-two long feelers, two
short ones Four wings, two round spots on each
of the upper pair, and none on the other two.
Dressed just like me. I wonder why it hid away
in that box ?
First Butterfly.-" What made you hide in that
green box ?"
Second Butterfly.-" What box ? I have n't hid
anywhere. I don't know what box you mean ? "


First Butterfly.-" That one. You just crawled
out of it. I saw you."
Second Butterfly.-" That 's the first I knew of
it. There are two boxes just alike. Both empty.
May be you were hid in the other !"
First Butterfly.-"Ho! There goes up our
prison wall! That's the big hand that held the
bright light. How good the air feels! Now for a
chance to try our wings! Away we go! "


HOW LILY-TOES WAS CAUGHT IN A SHOWER.

BY EMILY H. LELAND.


LILY-TOES, though quite a pet, was the fourth
baby, and, consequently, was not so great a wonder
in the eyes of her family as she might have been.
She and her mamma were on a visit to her grand-
ma's, in the country. As she had been there a
week, the excitement attendant on her arrival had
so far subsided that grandma was beginning to turn
her attention to cheese-making, her two aunties to
sew vigorously on their new cambric dresses, and
grandpa and the big hired man to become so
engaged in the hayingg" that they scarcely saw
Lily-toes except at supper-time.
Lily-toes, as if to make amends for being the
fourth, was a lovely chubby baby of eight months,
so full of sunshine and content and blessed good
health, that although her two first teeth were just
grumbling through, she would sit in her high chair
by the window or roll and wriggle about on the
floor, singing tuneless songs and telling herself
wordless stories, an hour at a time, without making
any demands on anybody, so that grandma and the
aunties declared that half the time they would not
know there was a baby in the house. Perhaps it is
sometimes a fault to be too good-natured; for there
came a certain afternoon when Lily-toes would have
been pleased if somebody had remembered there
was a baby in the house.
It happened in this way. There was company
at grandma's. Not the kind of city company that
comes to dine after babies are in bed for the night,
but country company, -that comes early in the
afternoon and stays and talks over whole life-times
before tea. Grandma, mamma, and the aunties
were enjoying it all very much; and Lily-toes,
who was, if possible, more angelic than ever, had
wakened from a blessed nap, lunched on bread and
milk and strawberries, and was stationed in her high


chair on the back piazza where she could admire
the landscape and watch the cows and sheep feed-
ing upon the hill-sides. A honeysuckle swung in
the breeze above her head, and little chickens, not
big enough to do harm to grandma's flower-beds,
ran to and fro in the knot-grass, hunting for little
shiny green bugs, and fluttering and peeping in a
way that was very interesting to Lily-toes. No
baby could be more comfortably situated on a hot
summer day; at least, so her mamma thought, as
she tied Lily-toes securely in her chair with a soft
scarf, and went back to the sitting-room and the
busy sewing and talking with her dear old girl-
hood friends. I presume if Lily-toes had been a
first baby, her mamma would have hesitated about
leaving her there. She wouldhave feared-may be
-that the chickens would eat her up or that she
might swallow the paper-weight. As it was, she
only kissed the little thing with a sort of mechanical
smack and left her alone, as coolly as if lovely Lily-
toe babies were an every-day affair.
Meanwhile, and for many days before, great
distress was going on in the fields and gardens
for lack of rain. The young corn was drooping,
the vines fainting, the sweet red roses opening
languidly, the grasses growing dry and brittle to
the bite of the patient cows and nibbling sheep.
Everything, except Lily-toes, was expressing a
desire for rain: In fact, all through the night
before this story of a wronged baby opens, the hills,
woods, fields, and gardens, had been praying for
rain according to their individual needs, the
maples and elms desiring a "regular soaker,"
while the lowly pansies lifted their fevered little
palms to the stars and begged but a few drops.
And the rain came. Slowly up the western
skies rose a solid cloud. No attention was paid it






HOW LILY-TOES WAS CAUGHT IN A SHOWER.


for some time, it came on so quietly and serenely.
But, by and by, the cows came sauntering down to
the barn-yard bars as if they thought it was milking-
time, and the sheep huddled together under the
great elms. Grandpa and his big man commenced
raking the hay together vigorously, and a sudden,
cool, puffy breeze began to ruffle the little rings of
hair on Lily-toes' head, and send the small chick-
ens careening over the knot-grass in such fashion
that the careful mother-hen put her head out of


4-2


pered out through a side door to snatch some clothes
from the grass-plot, and to gather up the bright tin
pans and pails that had been sunning on the long
benches. Grandma, throwing her apron over her
head, ran to see that some precious young turkeys
were under shelter. The visitors hurried to the
door, bewailing the windows they had left open at
home, and hoping their husbands would have sense
enough to see to things. And the mamma ran
upstairs to close the windows and potter over some


71


LILY-TOES IN THE SHOWER.


her little house and called them in. And still in
the cool, pleasant sitting-room, with its cheerful
talk and laughter, the approach of the storm was
hardly noticed. Grandma, the most thoughtful
body present, remarked that she believed it was
" clouding up a little," and mamma said she hoped
so. And then the talk went on about making
dresses and the best way to put up strawberries
and spiced currants. But when big drops came
suddenly plashing against the windows and a lively
peal of thunder rolled overhead, then there was a
scattering in the sitting-room. The aunties scam-


collars and ruffles that had blown about, never
thinking of baby on the uncovered piazza.
Oh, how it poured Grandpa and his man got
as far as the wagon-shed just as the worst came,
and they stayed there. Grandma was weather-
bound along with her young turkeys in the granary.
And Lily-toes !-no one will ever know what her
reflections were for a few moments. I imagine she
rather liked the first drops; for she was always fond
of plashing about in her bath-tub, and had no fear
of water in reasonable quantities. But when the
wind began to dash the rain in her face, probably


[SEPTEMBER,






"THANKS TO YOU."


she first gasped in astonishment, and then kicked,
and, eventually, as everybody knew, screamed!
Yes; aunties, visitors, and mamma, as they met in
the hall and shrieked to each other about the storm,
heard, at last, in the lull of the gale, a sound of
indignant squalling.
Then there was another scamper. Lily-toes was
snatched in-doors and borne along amid a tempest
of astonishment and pity, until one visitor burst out
laughing; and then all laughed except the mamma,
who kept a straight face until baby stopped crying
and smiled around on them like wet sunlight.


--7,


Before grandma could reach the house, Lily-toes
had been rubbed very dry and put into dry clothes;
but her wrapper and petticoats and stockings and
blue shoes, lying in a sopping heap on the floor,
told the tale to grandma and grandpa and the hired
man, who all agreed it was a burning shame to
forget Lily-toes, even for five minutes; and the
hired man went so far as to remark that, "If there
had been a few more women-folks in the house,
she'd most likely been drown-ded." And Lily-toes
looked at him gratefully, as if he had spoken the
very words she had longed to say.


"THANKS TO YOU."


BY MARY E. BRADLEY.


SVERY day for a month of Sundays,
Saturday, Tuesdays, Fridays, Mondays,
Jack had pondered the various means
And methods pertaining to grinding machines,
Until he was sure he could build a wheel
' That, given the sort of dam that's proper,
I Would only need some corn in the hopper
To turn out very respectable meal.


Jerry and Jane and Jo, and the others,
Jack's incredulous sisters and brothers,
S Gave him credit for good intentions,
But took no stock in the boy's inventions.
In fact they laughed them quite to scorn;
SInstead of wasting his time, they said,
He would be more likely to earn his bread
Planting potatoes or hoeing corn!


Bessie alone, when all the rest
Crushed his spirit with gibe and jest,
Whispered softly, Whatever they say,
I know you will build the wheel some day! "
Chirping crickets and singing birds
Were not so sweet as her heartsome words;
Straight he answered, If ever I do,
I know it will only be thanks to you!


Many a time sore heart and brain
Leap at a word, grown strong again.
Thanks to her, as the story goes,
Hope and courage in Jack arose;






HOW BIRDS FLY.


Till one bright day in the meadow-brook
There was heard a sound as of water plashing,
And Bessie watched with her happy look
The little wheel in the sunlight flashing.

By and by as the years were fraught
With fruit of his earnest toil and thought,
Brothers and sisters changed their tune,-
" Our Jack," they cried, "will be famous soon!"
Which was nothing more than Bessie knew,
She said, and had known it all the while!
But Jack replied with a kiss and a smile,
" If ever I am, it is thanks to you "


HOW BIRDS FLY.

'R PROF. W. K. BROOKS.


IN our last talk about birds (in ST. NICHOLAS for
July), I told you about birds and their nests. Now
I wish to say, first, a few words about the different
kinds of birds, and then we will see how birds
manage to fly. Naturalists have divided the class,
birds, into several smaller groups which are called
orders. One of these includes the birds of prey,
such as the hawks, eagles, and owls. In the picture
of a bird of prey you can see the strong, hooked
bill and powerful claws, which are well fitted for
seizing and tearing its prey.
The second order includes the climbing birds,
such as the woodpeckers. The birds of this order
can readily be recognized, since two of the toes
of each foot point backward, to give support in
climbing.
The next order, that of the perching birds, includes
all our common song-birds, such as the robin, blue-
bird, and blackbird, as well as a few larger birds,
like the crow.
The scratching birds form another order, includ-
ing our domestic fowls and many wild game-birds.
The next order comprises the ostrich and a few
other large birds, which have such small wings that


they are unable to fly, but with very large and
powerful legs, so that they are excellent runners.
Although this order includes the largest bird at
present living, there were formerly running birds
very much larger than any which now exist; for,
in Madagascar and New Zealand, the bones, and
even the eggs, of gigantic birds have been found.
One of these eggs was over a foot in length, and
contained more than ten quarts, or as much as six
ostrich eggs or one hundred and fifty hen's eggs.
A nearly complete skeleton of one of these birds
has been found, and this must have belonged to a
bird fifteen feet high, or taller than the largest
elephant!
The next order includes the wading birds, such
as the snipe, plover, woodcock, heron, and rail.
Another order is that of the gulls, ducks, geese,
pelicans, penguins, and other swimming birds.
Besides these living birds, fossil birds have been
found in the rocks. Some of these are very dif-
ferent from any species now living, and very much
like reptiles, so that it is not easy to decide whether
they are to be called birds or reptiles.
The chief peculiarity of birds is their power of


[SEPrEMBER,







HOW BIRDS FLY.


flight, and, although there are a few birds which do
not fly, most of them do, and the various organs
of their bodies are all constructed in such a way
as to fit them for a life in the air. Their bodies
are very solid and compact, in order that most
of their weight shall be near the place where the
wings are attached. The feet, legs, head, and neck
are light, and so arranged that they may be drawn
up close to the body while the bird is flying. As


- '._ :=2 -- --


6 -:. -'1 ==







'^l, \
-


for, otherwise, a bird would be unable to fly. The
feathers of a bird answer to all these needs, and are
so placed upon the body that they form a smooth
surface which does not catch against the air when
the bird is passing through it. In its rapid ascents
and descents, the bird is exposed to another danger
even greater than the sudden changes of tem-
perature. You all know that air presses in every
direction with great force, and that we do not feel


_.-
*- ._'' -,^ ~ ^ "

_ .,,-


, ". 1r ; V _

> '
./ \' ,.,


- -
-:

II- ~I1
ri


:. '-


THE EAGLE (BIRD OF PREY).


the neck is long and very flexible, the body does
not need to be pliant, as with most creatures having
backbones; but it is important that the wings
should have a firm support, so the bones of the
back are united. The body of a bird must also be
well protected from the cold; for, as it ascends and
descends through the air, it passes through regions
of very different temperatures, and it must be pro-
vided with a thick and warm covering in order to
be able to endure these sudden changes, and one also
which shall be very light and able to shed the water;


it because there is air in all parts of our bodies as
well as outside them, and the pressure of the air
inside exactly balances that of the outside air. If
we should suddenly take away the outside air in
any way, such as covering a person up with an
air-pump receiver, and quickly and completely
exhausting the air, the consequences of the inside
pressure would be very terrible, and if the experi-
ment could be tried quickly enough the body would
burst like an exploding gun, with a loud noise.
When people go up rapidly in a balloon or climb


735


~


------
F~7~C.
r-


\






HOW BIRDS FLY.


very high mountains, they are troubled by a ringing equal to that outside, so that they can ascend and
noise and a feeling of great pressure in the ears and descend as rapidly as they wish, without feeling the
head, and by palpitation of the heart, bleeding at least inconvenience. In the body of the bird there
the nose, and fainting. These unpleasant and are several large bags, like the lungs, called air-
often dangerous symptoms are caused by the chambers; many of their bones are hollow, and
expansion of the air inside their bodies. In ascend- others are pierced with long winding tubes called
ing very high mountains it is necessary to go very air-tubes. All these air-chambers and air-tubes


--I Y t,4 ,Ia. I.
{t 1(.? *..6


Afr
Ni,




-_7= -_= -7-=
-~ ---C



!Z 43

_...- 101R ,S


W in.,
V 4JMa
a~~


PENGUINS (SWIMMERS AND DIVERS).


slowly and to stop very often, to give time for some
of the expanded air to escape, and equalize the
pressure again. Now, many birds, the condor, for
example, fly over the tops of the highest mountains,
and nearly all birds, either occasionally or habitu-
ally, ascend to very great altitudes, and, unless
there were some plan for regulating the pressure
of the air inside their bodies, they would suffer
great inconvenience and even pain and danger.
But they are provided with an arrangement by
which the air within them can escape easily as it
expands and thus keep the pressure within just


are connected with the lungs so that air can pass
into and out of them at each breath. The connec-
tion between these chambers and the lungs is so
complete that a wounded hawk can breathe through
a broken wing almost as well as through its mouth.
When a bird mounts upward, the air inside its body
gradually expands, but the bird does not feel any
inconvenience; for, at each breath, part of the air
passes from the air-chambers into the lungs, so
that the pressure on the inside does not become
greater than that on the outside.
I could easily fill the whole of this chapter with






HOW BIRDS FLY.


737


an account of the different ways in which the body
of a bird is fitted for life in the air, but we have room
to examine only one of these,-the way in which the
wing is adapted to its use.
Did you ever look at a bird's wing carefully, and
try to find out from it the way in which it is used?
People usually suppose, either that a bird flies
because it is lighter than the air, like a balloon, or
that it rows itself along as a boat is rowed through
the water. Neither of these suppositions is true.
A bird is not lighter than the air, and does not
float; for when a bird is shot on the wing it falls to
the ground just as quickly as a squirrel. On the
contrary, a bird flies by its own weight, and could
not fly at all if it were not heavier than the air.
You know that when you move
a large, flat surface rapidly through
the air, it meets with considerable
resistance. A bird's wing is so
large, and is moved so rapidly, that
the resistance of the air is enough ,
to raise the bird a short distance
each time the wings are flapped
downward ; but after each down- i,
flap there must be an up-flap, and
the air resists this just as it does = .
the down-flap; so, unless there
were some arrangement to prevent _
it, the bird would drive itself down -
each time it raised its wings, just -
as far as it had raised itself by -
the down-stroke before, so that it -
would never get into the air at all.
To meet this difficulty, the wing is
so shaped that it is concave or hol-
low upon its lower surface, so that
it gathers the air together and prevents it from
escaping; while the upper surface is convex or
bulging, so that the air slides off from it when the
wing is moved upward. If you have ever been
caught in a sudden squall of wind with an open
umbrella, you will easily understand how great a
difference in resisting power this difference in the
shape of the two sides of the wing will make. As
long as you can 'keep the bulging side of the
umbrella pointed toward the wind, you find no
difficulty in holding it; but if the wind strikes
the hollow under-side of the umbrella, it pulls so
violently that, unless you are able to turn around
and face the wind, the chances are that the um-
brella will either be pulled away from you or turned
inside out. But in the latter case, the wind slides
out over the edges again, so that there is no
trouble in holding on to the umbrella.
The peculiar shape of the wing is only one of
the ways by which the down-stroke is made to strike
the air with more force than the up-stroke. If
VOL. V.-49.


you will look at a quill-feather, you will see that,
on each side of the central shaft or quill, there
is a broad, thin portion, which is called the vane.
The vane on one side of the shaft is quite broad
and flexible, while that on the other side is narrow
and stiff; and by looking at a wing with the feath-
ers in their places, you will find that they are
placed so that they overlap a little, like the slats on
a window-blind. Each broad vane runs under the
narrow vane of the feather beside it, so that, when
the wing is moved downward, each feather is pressed
up against the stiff narrow vane of the one beside
it, and the whole wing forms a solid sheet like a
blind with the slats closed. After the down-stroke
is finished and the up-stroke begins, the pressure is





S r


Q I ATC1ERS


i.-,


taken off from the lower surface of the wing, and
begins to act on the upper surface and to press the
feathers downward instead of upward. The broad
vanes now have nothing to support them, and they
bend down and allow the air to pass through the
wing, which is now like a blind with the slats
open. By these two contrivances,-the shape of
the wing, and the shape and arrangement of the
feathers,-the wing resists the air on its down-stroke
and raises the bird a little at each flap, but at each
up-stroke allows the air to slide off at the sides,
and to pass through between the feathers, so that
nothing is lost.
So much for the way in which the bird is raised
into the air. Rising in the air is not :1 i for a
balloon and a kite rise but do not fly. Now, how
is a bird able to move forward? This is not quite
as easy to understand as the other, but I hope to
be able to make it clear to you. I munt first say,
however, that it is not done by rowing with the
wings, for they move up and down, not backward







HOW BIRDS FLY.


and forward, and no amount of rowing up and
down would drive a bird forward, any more than
rowing backward and forward would lift a boat up
into the air.
You will find, if you carefully examine a bird's
wing, that all the bones and muscles are placed
along the front edge, which is thus made very stiff
and strong. The quill feathers are fastened in
such a way that they point backward, so that the
hind edge of the wing is not stiff like the front
edge, but is flexible and bends at the least touch.
As the air is not a solid, but a gas, it has a tendency
to slide out from under the wing when this is
driven downward, and of course it will do this at the
point where it can escape most easily. Since the
front edge of the wing is stiff and strong, it retains
its hollow shape, and prevents the air from sliding
out in this direction, but the pressure of the air is
enough to bend up the thin, flexible ends of the
feathers at the hinder border of the wing, so the
air makes its escape there, and slides out backward
and upward. The weight of the bird is all the
time pulling it down toward the earth; so, at the
same time that the air slides out upward and back-
ward past the bent edge of the wing, the wing
itself, and with it the bird, slides forward and
downward off from the confined air. You will
have a much better idea of this if you will cut out
a little paper model of a bird's wing and watch the
way in which it falls through the air.
Take a sheet of stiff paper and cut it in the
shape shown in the diagram above, but considerably
larger. Be very careful to have the two sides alike,
so that they shall balance each other. Now fold
up the front margin of each wing, along the dotted
lines a, a, a, a, to form a stiff rim to represent the


see that, instead of falling straight to the ground,
it will slide forward, and strike the ground two or
three feet ahead of you. It is really its weight

:-a,-
--- -- ---
-- ---- --
-- ------ ------ i





which causes it to do this, so that the statement
that a bird flies by its own weight is strictly true.
This is true, also, of insects and bats. They all
have wings with stiff front edges, and flexible hind
edges which bend and allow the air to pass out, so
that flying is nothing but sliding down a hill made
of air. A bird rises, then, by flapping its wings,
and it flies by falling back toward the earth and
sliding forward at the same time. At the end of
each stroke of its wings it has raised itself enough
to make up for the distance it has fallen since the
last stroke, and accordingly it stays at the same
height and moves forward in a seemingly straight
line. But if you watch the flight of those birds
which flap their wings slowly, such as the wood-
pecker, you can see them rise and fall, and will
have no trouble in seeing that their path is not
really a straight line, but is made up of curves;
although most birds flap their wings so rapidly that
they have no time to fall through a space great
enough to be seen. Birds also make use of the
wind to aid them in flight, and by holding their
wings inclined like a kite, so that the wind shall
slide out under them, they can sail great distances
without flapping their wings at all. They are sup-
ported, as a paper kite is, by the wind, which is


A SKILLFUL FLYER.

rim of bone along the front edge of a bird's wing, continually pushing against their wings, and sliding
and cut out a small strip of wood, about as thick out backward and downward, thus lifting or holding
as a match and twice as long, and run this through up the bird, and at the same time driving it for-
the two slits, b, b, to represent the body of the ward.
bird. If you hold this model about three feet from The birds are not compelled to face the wind
the ground, and allow it to fall gently, you will while they are sailing, but by changing the position


_ ___ __ ~I


[SEPTEMBER,


_i~=


--
----~-- ---- --=- --- -~-~=
- ~---
~---
---=-----
'-- -----~--'


;I~1







NANCY CHIME.


739


of the wings a little they can go in whatever direc-
tion they wish, much as a boy changes his direction
in skating by leaning a little to one side or the
other. Some birds aie very skillful at this kind of
sailing, and can even remain stationary in the air
for some minutes when there is a strong wind ; and
they do this without flapping their wings at all.
It is a difficult thing to do, and no birds except the
most skillful flyers can manage it. Some hawks
can do it, and gulls and terns may often be seen
practicing it when a gale of wind is blowing, and
they seem to take great delight in their power of
flight.
Of all birds the albatross is the most skillful in
the art of sailing in the air. It is a large sea-bird,


about the size of a swan, and has very long and
powerful wings. It lives far out upon the open
ocean, hundreds of miles from land, and spends
nearly all of its life in the air, very seldom alighting
upon the water. It flies almost entirely by the aid
of the wind, and sometimes does not flap its wings
for an hour at a time. Albatrosses often follow a
ship clear across the ocean, or, rather, they keep
company with the ship, for as they are able to fly
one hundred miles an hour with ease, the rate at
which a ship travels is much too slow for them ; so
they make long journeys ahead and behind, like a
dog taking a walk with his master, returning occa-
sionally to the ship to pick up any food which may
have been thrown overboard.


NANCY CHIME.

BY S. SMITH.


UNTARNISHED by the breath of fame,
Untouched by prose or rhyme,
The world has never heard that name,-
The name of Nancy Chime.


Domestic, friend, and monitor,
She served us long and well;
Not many helps" could equal her,
And none, perhaps, excel.


No evil lurked within her breast;
Her face was always bright;
Her trusty hands, scarce needing rest,
Were busy day and night.


Her voice was sweet as voice of birds
That to each other call;
And when she spoke, her striking words
Were listened to by all.


E'en Baby Bunting-darling boy,
The happiest of his race-
Would clap his little hands with joy,
And look up in her face.


But none can reach perfection here;
Like all beneath the sun,
She, too, could err, and her career
Was not a faultless one.


She only did, here let me tell,
Each day the best she could;
Would young folks all but do as well,
The world might soon grow good.


But all is past Ah cold that face !
That bosom throbs no more !
Oh must another take her place,
And we our loss deplore?


Nay, nay, we could not bear the pain
Of losing one so true;
Old Nancy Chime shall tick again,
And be as good as new.







HOW HE CAUGHT HIM.


HOW HE CAUGHT HIM.


''lii~~~s

ih;,~


(- N
-'I-


HANS GETS A FIRST-RATE BITE.



7 -. '





C,
-. '









HANS FINDS IT HARDER TO HOLD THE FISH THAN
TO CATCH HIM.





















L FISH NOW CACHES HANS AND PULLS M IN.

TIlE EIS1l NOW CATCHES HANS AND PULLS HIM IN.


THEN HE CATCHES A FISH AND PULLS HIM OUT.












-
-- ^ ---L e',,,,, '*^ ,I







THEN HANS BEGINS TO WONDER WHETHER HE OR THE
FISH 1S CAUGHT.


HANS AND THE FISH AGREE TO STOP CATCHING EACH OTHER.


740


[SEPTEMBER,






WHOi PUT OUT THE TEA-PARTY?




WHO PUT OUT THE TEA-PARTY?

By ELLEN FRANCES TERRY.


ONE day, when I was a small girl, my little sister
Katy and I found in the yard a dry-goods box, in
which the new carpets had been sent home. As
usual, we ran to where grandma sat knitting and
nodding:
Oh, grandma, may n't we have it?" cried I.
Yet hab it, dranma?" echoed Katy.
You know we never had a baby-house."
No, nebber had no baby-'ouse."
Oh, say yes I"
S'Ay 'et !
Do, do "
"Pede do "
Then, before she knew what she was to do, or
say, or what she never had done, or said, we coaxed
her to the back door and pointed to our treasure.
She could n't refuse us, and the box was given to us.
John made us a card-board chimney, and cut a
square window in either end, for, of course, we set
it on its feet, turning its back to the lane against
whose fence it stood, looking into the yard. Grand-
ma gave us red curtains for the windows, and a
big striped apron, which hung across the front and
did for a door. We had to have a door, for, when
we took tea, the chickens came, without invitation,
peeping inside, looking for crumbs. And, seeing
what looked like a party, down flew, with a whir
and rustle, a flock of doves, saying, Coo-oo!
how do-oo-do !" and prinking themselves in our
very faces. Yes, we really had too many of these
surprise-parties; for, another time, it was a wasp
that came to tea, and flew from me to Katy, and
from Katy to me, till we flew, too, to hide our heads
in grandma's lap. Then she gave us the apron,
which was very grand, though the blue stripes were
walking into the red ones, and there were a good
many little holes which let small arrows of light fly
out. That was when we lighted the chandelier,
and they (the holes and the arrows) were the very
things to let people know what grand doings there
were inside.
Then, when our crockery was arranged on the
shelf at the back, a stool set in the middle for a
table, our two small green chairs placed one at
either end, and a good many nails driven into the
walls" to serve as hooks,-then we gave a party.
The dolls were invited, of course, and their invita-
tions Katy wrote on her slate. To be sure, the
letters looked a good deal like Jack and Jill,-
climbing up hill and tumbling down again,-still
the dolls understood us. There were no little girls


invited, because little girls could n't have squeezed
in, unless they were willing to be hung up, like the
extra dollies.
But oh! would n't they have liked to go? We
had ice-cream, just made of vanilla, cream-candy,
and water,-delicious Then there was a whole
tea-potful of chocolate-tea, which was a chocolate-
cream drop scraped fine and mixed with water.
Do just try it sometime. Thimble-biscuits, too,
and holes with cookies round them. I never
expect to be as happy again as I was when I
dropped the curtain at half-past four precisely, and
lighted the chandelier, which I forgot to say was
a candle cut in two, stuck in cologne-bottles of
different shapes and colors.
We well knew-for did n't we go out twice to
look ?-how splendidly the light streamed through
the two windows and the eight holes. Why, the
chickens knew it, too, on their perches, for they
opened one sleepy eye after another, solemnly
changed legs, and dozed off again. Those long
rays of light, playing truant, ran down the lane and
flashed into the very eyes of naughty Billy Quinn,
who was going home from a visit, whistling, and
with his hands in his pockets.
Of course the dolls arrived promptly, and took
off their shawls in the best bedroom, which was
that convenient shelf that was turned into anything
on short notice. The baby-dolls had to go early
to bed under the table, and you can imagine how
much pleasanter it is to say, Bed-time, children! "
than to have it said to you. Mrs. Green was a
perfect little Mrs. Herod in her treatment of her
children. Indeed, their yells under punishment
were heart-rending; but when she was only dear
Katy she was tender as one of those cooing doves.
So we ate up the ice-cream, and turned the
tea-pot upside down to squeeze out the last drop of
chocolate-tea. Mrs. Green was just doing this very
thing when the most dreadful event happened.
Crash !-bang !-clatter !-the whole world had
turned upside down. Out went the lights, and
. I 1 ;. fell together in a dismal heap; but
whether up or down nobody could tell. There was
a splash of cold, cold water in my face as the
wash-bowl and pitcher fell and crashed beside me.
Katy lay with her small nose buried in the butter-
plate. The house had tumbled over / /
For a few seconds not a sound was heard, but
then there was a half-stifled burst of laughter, which
quickly died away as some thickly shod feet scam-






WHO PUT OUT THE TEA-PARTY?


pered down the alley. Yes, the beautiful house was
tipped over, and the tea-party put out, as an extin-
guisher is slipped over a candle, or a hat clapped
upon a butterfly. Inside, there was a confused heap,
with legs uppermost,-table-legs, chair-legs, little


yard, turned back the house with one hand, with
the other picked out from the heap of legs all the
white ones, and dragged us from the wreck of our
residence. It was quickly done, but not too soon,
for a little flame, which was hiding under the close


THE TEA-PARTY.


legs clad in white stockings, and, mixed hopelessly
up with these, the dolls, the dishes, the candles.
This heap, however, was silent only for a moment.
Then a feeble cry struggled up through it,-a cry
which, reaching the upper air, grew loud, doubled
itself, became two cries, and rushed out through a
window, which, having lost its way, was where the
roof ought to be. Then growing fast and shrill, the
cry ran toward the house, waking up the Brown
baby, who at once joined in. The rooster waked
suddenly, and feeling that something had hap-
pened, thought it could do no harm to crow, and
that agitated his household to the last hen. Then
to the cackling and crowing, Ieppo added a bark
of duty, and nearly turned inside out, tugging at
his chain, and howling between times. The canary
began his scales, and the scream grew and grew and
rushed into the house through every door and win-
dow. Uncle John was reading the paper, but,
hearing the fearful uproar, he dashed into the


mass of ruins, now hopped merrily up on the tar-
letan skirts of Alice Isabella, the prettiest of the
dolls.
While we were being taken to grandma to be
cried over and comforted, and the poor old house
lay on its side forgotten, that flame finished off
poor dolly, ran up to the roof, ate up the red-
striped curtain in the twinkling of an eye, and, in
fact, made short work of the whole thing. We
knew nothing of this that night, but were so hon-
ored and indulged as to make us think everything
else had turned a new leaf as well as the house.
The next morning, grandma, coming into the
breakfast-room, was called to the window by Uncle
John, who was looking at something in the yard.
There was a forlorn little figure sitting on a log
among the charred embers of the burnt house. It
was I, sobbing as if my heart would break, and
beside me was Katy, who stood sadly by, trying
with a corner of her apron to dry my tears. But


[SEPTEMBER,






THE FOX, THE MONKEY, AND THE PIG.


her eyes were wet, too, and in the fat arms were upon it all, we never knew. I heard that Billy
squeezed a leg and shoe, which was all that was left Quinn was punished that night for coming home
of Alice Isabella. late to supper, and now, looking impartially at
What wicked eye had watched the festivities the matter over all these years, I am inclined to
through the window, or what cruel heart had think it was that very Billy Quinn, and no other,
yielded to the temptation to turn over the house who put out the tea-party.







S.. THE FO-X, -THE MONKEY, AND' THE PIG.

SBY HOWARD PYLE.


THE fox, the monkey, and the pig were once
inseparable companions. As they were nearly
always together, the fox's thefts so far reflected
upon his innocent associates, that they were all
three held to be wicked animals.
At length, the enemies of these three laid a
snare, in a path they were known to use.
The first that came to the trap was the pig. He
viewed it with contempt, and, to show his disdain of
his enemies and his disregard for their snare, he
tried to walk through it with a lofty tread. He
found he had undervalued it, however, when, in
spite of his struggles, he was caught and strangled.


The next that came was the monkey. He in-
spected the trap carefully; then, priding himself
upon the skill and dexterity of his fingers, he tried
to pick it to pieces. In a moment of carelessness,
however, he became entangled, and soon met the
fate of the unfortunate pig.
The last that came was the fox. He looked at
the snare anxiously, from a distance, and, approach-
ing cautiously, soon made himself thoroughly ac-
quainted with its size and power. Then he cried,
" Thus do I defeat the machinations of my ene-
mies "-and, avoiding the trap altogether, by leap-
ing completely over it, he went on his way rejoicing.






DAB KINZER.



DAB KINZER: A STORY OF A GROWING BOY.

BY WILLIAM 0. STODDARD.


CHAPTER XIV.
THE next day's newspapers, from the city,
brought full accounts of the stranding of the
Prudhomme," as well as of the safety of her pas-
sengers and cargo; but they had nothing whatever
to say about the performances of the Swallow."
The yacht had been every bit as well handled as
the great steamship, but then she had got home
safely, and she was such a little thing, after all.
Whatever excitement there had been in the village
died out as soon as it was known that the boys were
safe; and then, too, Mrs. Lee found time to won-
der wot Dab Kinzer means to do wid all de money
he done got for dem blue-fish."
Dab himself had been talking with Ford Foster
and Frank Harley, and an original idea of his own
was beginning to take some sort of form in his
mind. He did not, as yet, mention it to any one,
as he wanted very much to consult with Ham Mor-
ris about it. As for Frank, Mr. Foster had readily
volunteered to visit the steamship office, in the city,
when he went over to business, next day, and do
whatever might be needed with reference to the
young gentleman's baggage. At the same time,
Mrs. Foster wrote to her sister, Mrs. Hart, giving a
full account of what had happened, and saying she
meant to keep Frank as Ford's guest for a while.
The Hart boys hardly knew whether to submit
or not, when that letter came, as they had planned
for themselves all sorts of rare fun with the young
missionary" in their own home.
Never mind, Fuz," said Joe, we '11 serve him
out when we get to Grantley."
Yes," replied Fuz; I 'd just as lief not see too
much of him before that. He wont have any spe-
cial claim on us if he does n't go there from our
house."
Other talk they had together, and the tone of it
promised very lively times at Grantley Academy
for the stranger from India. But while the Hart
boys were laying their plans for the future, they
were themselves the subjects of more than one dis-
cussion, for Ford Foster gave his two friends the
benefit of all he knew of his cousins.
It's a good thing for you that the steamer
did n't go ashore anywhere near their house," he
said to Frank Harley. They're a pair of born
young wreckers. Just think of the tricks they
played on my sister Annie."
After that conversation, it was remarkable what
daily care and attention Dab Kinzer and Frank


paid to their sparring lessons. It even exceeded
the pluck and perseverance with which Dab went
to work at his French.
Plenty of fishing, bathing, riding, boxing.
Three boys together can find so much more to do
than one can alone, and they made it four as often
as they could, for Dick Lee had proved himself the
best kind of company. Frank Harley's East Indian
experience had made him very indifferent to the
mere question of color, and Ford Foster had too
much manhood to forget that long night of gale
and fog and danger on board the Swallow."
It was only a day or so after the perilous "cruise"
that Dab Kinzer met his old playmate, Jenny Wal-
ters, just in the edge of the village.
"How well you look, Dabney remarked the
sharp-tongued little lady. Drowning must agree
with you."
"Yes," said Dab; I like it."
"Do you know what a fuss they made over
you when you were gone ? I s'pose they'd nothing
else to do."
Jenny !" suddenly exclaimed Dab, holding out
his hand, you must n't quarrel with me any more.
Bill Lee told me about your coming down to the
landing. You may say anything you want to."
Jenny colored and bit her lip, and she would
have given her bonnet to know if Bill Lee had told
Dab how very red her eyes were as she looked
down the inlet for some sign of the Swallow."
Something had to be said, however, and she said it
almost spitefully.
I don't care, Dabney Kinzer. It did seem
dreadful to think of you three boys being drowned,
and you, too, with your new clothes on. Good-
morning, Dab !"
She 's a right good girl, if she 'd only show it,"
muttered Dab, as Jenny tripped away; but she
is n't a bit like Annie Foster. How 1 do wish Ham
would come back !"
Time enough for that; and as the days went
by, the Morris homestead began to look less and
less like its old self, and more and more like
a house made for people to live and be happy
in. Mrs. Kinzer and her daughters had now
settled down into their new quarters as completely
as if they had never known any others, and it
seemed to Dab, now and then, as if they had taken
almost too complete possession. His mother had
her room, as a matter of course, and a big one.
There could be no objection to that. Then another


[SEPTEMBER,






DAB KINZER.


big one, of the very best, had to be set apart and fitted
up for Ham and Miranda on their return, and Dab
delighted in doing all in his power to make that
room all it could be made. But, then, Samantha
had insisted on a separate domain, and Keziah
and Pamela imitated their elder sister to a fraction.
The guest-chamber" had to be provided as well,
or what would become of the good old Long Island
customs of hospitality ?
Dab said nothing for a while, but one day,
at dinner, just after the arrival of a letter from


The girls looked at one another in blank amaze-
ment over the idea of Mrs. Kinzer being anything
less than the mistress of any house she might hap-
pen to be in, but Dabney laid down his knife and
fork with :
"It's all right, then. If Ham and Miranda
are to settle it, I think I '11 take the room Sam
has now. You need n't take away your books,
Sam. I may want to read some of them or lend
them to Annie. You and Kezi and Meli had better
take that upper room back. The smell of the


THE FIRE. [SEE PAGE 748.]


Miranda announcing the speedy return of herself
and husband, he quietly remarked:
Now I can't sleep in Ham's room any longer,
-I suppose I '1 have to go out on the roof. I
wont sleep in the garret or in the cellar."
That 'll be a good deal as Mrs. Morris says,
when she comes," calmly responded his mother.
"As Miranda says !" said Dab, with a long breath.
"Miranda?" gasped Samantha and her sisters.
"Yes, my dears, certainly," said their mother.
" This is Mrs. Morris's house, or her husband's,--
not mine. All the arrangements I have made are
only temporary. She and Ham both have ideas
and wills of their own. I've only done the best I
could for the time being."


paint's all gone now, and there 's three kinds of
carpet on the floor."
Dabney !" exclaimed Samantha, reproachfully,
and with an appealing look at her mother, who,
however, said nothing on either side, and was a
woman of too much good sense to take any other
view of the matter than that she had announced.
Things were all running on smoothly and pleas-
antly before dinner was over, but Dab's ideas of
the way the house should be divided were likely to
result in some changes. Perhaps not exactly the
ones he indicated, but such as would give him a
better choice than either the garret, the cellar, or
the roof. At all events, only three days would now
intervene before the arrival of the two travelers, and






DAB KINZER.


everything required for their reception was pushed
forward with all the energy Mrs. Kinzer could
bring to bear. She had promised Ham that his
house should be ready for him, and it was likely to
be a good deal more ready" than either he or
his wife had dreamed of.

CHAPTER XV.
ONE of the most troublesome of the annoyances
which come to dwellers in the country, within easy
reach of the great city, is the kind of patrolling
beggar called the "tramp." He is of all sorts and
sizes, and he goes everywhere, asking for anything
he wants, very much as if it belonged to him, so
long as he can ask it of a woman or a sickly-looking
man.
There had been very few of these gentry seen
in that vicinity that summer, for a wonder, and
those who had made their appearance had been
reasonably well behaved. Probably because there
had been so many healthy-looking men around,, as
a general thing. But it came to pass, on the very
day when Ham and Miranda were expected to
arrive, by the last of the evening trains, as Dab
Kinzer was coming back from the landing, where
he had been for a look at the Swallow," to be
sure she was all right for her owner's eyes, that a
very disreputable specimen of a worthless man
stopped at Mrs. Kinzer's to beg something to eat,
and then sauntered away down the road.
It was a little past the middle of the afternoon,
and even so mean-looking, dirty a tramp as that
had a perfect right to be walking along then and
there. The sunshine and the fresh salt air from
the bay were as much his as anybody's, and so was
the water in the bay, and no one in all that region
of country stood more in need of water than he.
The vagabond took his right to the road, as he
had taken his other right to beg his dinner, until,
half-way down to the landing, he was met by an
opportunity to do more begging.
"Give a poor feller suthin," he impudently
drawled, as he stared straight into the sweet, fresh
face of Annie Foster. Annie had been out for
only a short walk, but she happened to have her
pocket-book with her, and she thoughtlessly drew
it out, meaning to give the scamp a trifle, if only
to get rid of him.
Only a dime, Miss," whined the tramp, as he
shut his dirty hand over Annie's gift. Come,
now, make it a dollar, my beauty. I'll call it all
square for a dollar."
The whine grew louder as he spoke, and the
wheedling grin upon his disgusting face changed
into an expression so menacing that Annie drew
back with a shudder, and was about to return her
little portemonnaie to her pocket.


"No you don't, honey "
The words were uttered in a hoarse and husky
voice, and were accompanied by a sudden grip of
poor Annie's arm with one hand, while with the
other he snatched greedily at the morocco case.
Did she scream ? How could she help it ? Or
what else could she have done under the circum-
stances ? She screamed vigorously, whether she
would or no, and at the same moment dropped her
pocket-book in the grass beside the path, so that it
momentarily escaped the vagabond's clutches.
Shut up, will you and other angry and evil
words, accompanied with more than one vicious
threat, followed thick and fast, as Annie struggled
to free herself, while her assailant peered hungrily
around after the missing prize.
It is not at all likely he would have attempted
anything so bold as that in broad daylight if he
had not been drinking too freely, and the very evil
" spirit" which had prompted him to his rascality
unfitted him for its immediate consequences. These
latter, in the shape of Dab Kinzer and the lower
"joint" of a stout fishing-rod, had been bounding
along up the road from the landing at a tremen-
dous rate for nearly half a minute.
A boy of fifteen assailing a full-grown ruffian?
Why not? Age hardly counts in such a matter,
and then it is not every boy of even his growth "
that could have brought muscles like those of Dab
-Kinzer to the swing he gave that four feet length of
seasoned ironwood.
Annie saw him coming, but her assailant did not
until it was too late for anything but to turn and
receive that first hit in front instead of behind. It
would have knocked over almost anybody, and the
tramp measured his length on the ground, while
Dabney plied the rod on him with all the energy he
was master of.
"Oh, don't, Dabney, don't; you'll kill him!"
pleaded Annie.
I wouldn't want to do that," said Dabney, but
he added, to the tramp: "Now you'd better get
up and run for it. If you are caught around here
again it'll be the worse for you."
The vagabond staggered to his feet, looking
savagely enough at Dab, but the latter seemed so
very ready to put in another hit with that terrible
cudgel, and the whole situation was so unpleasantly
suggestive of further difficulty, that the youngster's
advice was taken without a word.
Here it is. I've found my pocket-book," said
Annie, as her enemy made the best of his way off.
He did not hurt you ? "
No, he only scared me, except that I s'pose my
arm will be black and blue where he caught it.
Thank you ever so much, Dabney You 're a brave
boy. Why, he's almost twice your size."


746


[SEPTEMBER,







DAB KINZER.


"Yes, but the butt end of my rod is twice as
hard as his head," replied Dabney. I was almost
afraid to strike him with it, because I might have
broken his skull."
You did n't even break your rod."
"No, and now I must run back for the other
pieces and the tip. I dropped them in the road."
Please, Dabney, see me home first," said Annie.
" I know it's foolish and there is n't a bit of danger,
but I must confess to being rather frightened."
Dab Kinzer was a little the proudest boy on Long
Island, as he marched along in compliance with
her request. He went no further than the gate, to
be sure, and then returned for the rest of his rod,
but, before he got home, Keziah hurried back from
a call on Mrs. Foster, bringing a tremendous ac-
count of Dab's heroism, and then his own pride
was a mere drop in the bucket compared to that of
his mother.
Dabney is growing wonderfully," she remarked
to Samantha. He'll be a man before any of us
know it."
If Dabney had been a man, however, or if Ham
Morris or Mr. Foster had been at home, the matter
would not have been permitted to drop there.
That tramp ought to have been followed, arrested
and shut up where his vicious propensities could
have been restrained for a while. As it was, after
hurrying on for a short distance and making sure
that he was not pursued, he sprang over the fence
and sneaked into the nearest clump of bushes.
From this safe covert he watched Dab Kinzer's
return after the lighter joints of his rod, and then
even dared to crouch along the fence until he saw
which house his young conqueror went into.
That's where he lives, is it ?" exclaimed the
tramp, with a scowl of the most ferocious ven-
geance. "Well, they'll have fun before bed-time,
or I 'll know the reason why."
The bushes were a good enough hiding-place for
the time, and he went back to them with the air
and manner of a man whose mind is made up to
something.
Ford Foster and Frank Harley were absent in
the city that day, with Mr. Foster, attending to
some affairs of Frank's, and when the three came
home and learned what had happened, they were
all on the point of rushing over to the Morris house
to thank Dab, but Mrs. Foster interposed.
I don't think I would. To-morrow will do as
well, and you know they're expecting Mr. and
Mrs. Morris this evening."
It was harder for the boys than for Mr. Foster,
that waiting, and they lingered near the north fence
two hours later, even though they knew that the
whole Kinzer family were down at the railway sta-
tion waiting for Ham and Miranda.


There was a good deal of patience to be exer-
cised, for that train was behind time, and the dark-
ness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had
settled over the village and the outlying farms long
before the engine puffed its way in front of the
station platform. Just at that moment, Ford Fos-
ter exclaimed, What's that smell ? "
It's like burning hay," replied Frank.
"Where can it come from, I 'd like to know?
We haven't had a light out at our barn."
"Light?" exclaimed Frank. "Just look yonder!"
Why, it's that old barn away beyond the Mor-
ris and Kinzer house. Somebody must have set it
on fire. Hullo I thought I saw a man running.
Come on, Frank."
There was indeed a man running just then, but
they did not see him, for he was already very nearly
across the field, hidden by the darkness. He had
known how to light a fire that would smolder long
enough for him to get away. There had been no
sort of lingering at the railway station, for Ham
and Miranda were as anxious to get at the "surprise"
they were told was waiting for them as their friends
were to have them come to it. Before they were
half-way home, however, the growing light ahead
of them attracted their attention, and then they
began to hear.the vigorous shouts of "Fire from
the throats of the two boys, now re-enforced by Mr.
Foster himself. Dabney was driving the ponies,
and they had to go pretty fast for the rest of that
short run.
Surprise !" exclaimed Ham. '' I should say it
was. Did you light it before you started, Dabney?"
Don't joke, Hamilton," remarked Mrs. Kinzer.
It may be a very serious affair for all of us. But
I can't understand how that barn could have
caught fire."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE Morris farm, as has been said, was a pretty
large one, and the same tendency on the part of
the owners which had made them set up so very
extensive and barn-like a house, had led them,
from time to time, to provide the most liberal sort
of storage for their crops. The first barn they had
ever built, which was now the oldest and the furthest
from the stables and the residence, was a pretty
large one. It was now in a somewhat dilapidated
condition, to be sure, and bowed a little northerly
by the weight of years which rested on it, but it
had still some hope of future usefulness, if it had
not been for that tramp and his box of matches.
There is n't a bit of use in trying to save it,"
exclaimed Ham, as they were whirled in through
the wide gate. It's gone."
But," said Mrs. Kinzer, "we can save the other







DAB KINZER.


barns, perhaps. Look at the cinders on the long
stable. If we could only keep them off somehow."
We can do it, Ham!" exclaimed Dab, very
earnestly. Mother, will you send me out a broom
and a rope, while Ham and I set up the ladder ? "
You're the boy for me," said Ham. I guess
I know what you're up to."
The ladder was one the house painters had been
using, and was a pretty heavy one, but it was
quickly set up against the largest and most valuable
of the barns, and the one, too, which was nearest
and most exposed to the burning building and its
flying cinders. The rope was on hand, and the
broom, by the time the ladder was in position.
Ford," said Dab, you and Frank help the
girls bring water till the men from the village get
here. There's plenty of pails. Now, Ham, I'm
ready."
Up they went, and were quickly astride the ridge
of the roof. It would have been perilous work for
any man to have ventured further unassisted, but
Dab tied one end of the rope firmly around his
waist, Ham Morris tied himself to the other, and
then Dab could slip down the steep roof in any
direction without fear of falling.
But the broom? As useful as a small engine.
The flying cinders, burning hay or wood, as they
alighted on the sun-dried shingles of the roof,
needed to be swept off as rapidly as they fell. Here
and there the flames had so good a start that the
broom alone would have been insufficient, and
there the fast-arriving pails of water came into cap-
ital play. They had to be used economically, of
course, but they did the work as effectually as if
they had been the streams of a steam fire-engine.
Hard work for Ham and Dab, and now and then
the strength and weight and agility of the former
were put to pretty severe tests, as Dab danced
around under the scorching heat or slipped flat
upon the sloping roof.
There were scores and scores of people from the
village, now, arriving every moment, and Mrs.
Kinzer had all she could do to keep them from
" rescuing every atom of her furniture from the
house and piling it up in the road.
"Wait," she said, quietly. If Ham and Dab
save the long barn, the fire wont spread any fur-
ther. The old barn wont be any loss to speak of,
anyhow."
Fiercely as the dry old barn burned, it used itself
up all the quicker on that account, and it was less
than thirty minutes from the time Ham and Dab-
ney got at work before roof and rafters fell in and
the worst of the danger was over. The men and
boys from the village were eager enough to do any
thing that now remained to be done, but a large
share of this was confined to standing around and


watching the bonfire burn down to a harmless
heap of badly smelling ashes. As soon, however,
as they were no more wanted on the roof, the two
volunteer "firemen came down, and Ham Morris's
first word on reaching the ground was:
Dab, my boy, how you've grown "
Not a tenth of an inch, in mere stature, and yet
Ham was correct about it. There was plenty of
light, just then, moon or no moon, and Ham's
eyes were very busy for a minute. He noted the
improvements in the fences, sheds, barns, the
blinds on the house, the paint, a host of small
things that had changed for the better, and then
he simply said: Come on, Dab," and led the
way into the house. Her mother and sisters had
already given Miranda a hurried look at what they
had done, but Ham was not the man to do any-
thing in haste. Deliberately and silently he walked
from room to room and from cellar to garret, hardly
seeming to hear the frequent comments of his en-
thusiastic young wife. That he did hear, however,
was manifest, for at last he asked:
"Dab, I've seen all the other rooms, where's
yours? "
I 'm going to let you and Miranda have my
room," said Dab. "I don't think I shall board
here long."
I don't think you will, either," said Ham, em-
phatically. You're going away to boarding-
school. Miranda, is there any reason whyDabney
can't have the south-west room, upstairs, with the
bay-window ? "
That room had been Samantha's choice, and she
looked at Dab reproachfully, but Miranda replied:
No, indeed ; not if you wish him to have it."
"Now, Ham," said Dabney, "I 'm not big
enough to fit that room. Give me one nearer my
size. That's a little loose for even Sam, and she
can't take any tucks in it."
Samantha's look changed to one of gratitude,
and she did not notice the detested nickname.
"Well, then," said Ham, we'll see about it.
You can sleep in the spare chamber to-night.
Mother Kinzer, I could n't say enough .about this
house business if I talked all night. It must have
cost you a deal of money. I could n't have dared
to ask it. I guess you 'd better kiss me again."
Curious thing it was that came next. One that
nobody could have reckoned on. Mrs. Kinzer-
good soul-had set her heart on having Ham's
house and Miranda's "ready for them on their
return, and now Ham seemed to be so pleased
about it she actually began to cry. She said, too:
" I'm so sorry about the barn !" But Ham only
laughed in his quiet way as he kissed his portly
mother-in-law, and said:
Come, mother Kinzer, you did n't set it afire.


[SEPTEMBER,






DAB KINZER.


Can't Miranda and I have some supper? Dab
must be hungry, after all that roof-sweeping."
There had been a sharp strain on the nerves of
all of them that day and evening, and they were
glad enough to gather around the tea-table, while
what was left of the old barn smoldered away, with
the village boys on guard. Once or twice Ham or
Dab went out to make sure all was right, but there
was no danger, unless a high wind should come.
By this time the whole village was aware of Dab-
ney's adventure with the tramp, and it was well for
that individual that he had walked fast and far
before suspicion settled on him, for men went out
to seek for him on foot and on horseback.
He's a splendid fellow, anyway."
Odd, was it not, but Annie Foster and Jenny
Walters were half a mile apart when they both said
that very thing, just before the clock in the village
church hammered out the news that it was ten and
bed-time. They were not speaking of the tramp.
It was long after that, however, before the lights
were out in all the rooms of the Morris mansion.


CHAPTER XVII.
SLEEP?
One of the most excellent things in all the world,
and very few people get too much of it nowadays.
As for Dabney Kinzer, he had done his sleeping
as regularly and faithfully as even his eating, up to
that very night after Ham Morris came home to
find the big barn afire. There had been a few, a
very few exceptions. There were the nights when
he was expecting to go duck-shooting before day-
light, and waked up at midnight with a strong
conviction that he was already too late about start-
ing. There were perhaps a dozen or so of feeling"
expeditions which had kept him out late enough for
a full basket and a proper scolding. There, too,
was the night when he had stood so steadily by the
tiller of the Swallow," while she danced through
the dark across the rough waves of the Atlantic.
But on the whole, Dab Kinzer had been a good
sleeper all his life till then. Once in bed, and there
had been an end of all wakefulness.
On that particular night, for the first time, sleep
refused to come, late as was the hour when the
family circle broke up. It could not have been the
excitement of Ham's and Miranda's return. He 'd
have gotten over that by this time. No moire
could it have been the fire, though the smell of the
smoldering hay came in pretty strongly, at times,
through the wide-open windows. If any one patch
of that great roomy bed was better made up for
sleeping than the rest of it, Dab would surely have
found the spot, for he tumbled and rolled all over
it in his restlessness. Some fields on a farm will


Grow better wheat than others, but no part of
the bed seemed to grow any sleep. At last Dab
got wearily up and took a chair by the window.
The night was dark, but the stars were shining,
and every now and then the wind would make a
shovel of itself and toss up the hot ashes the fire had
left, sending a dull red glare around on the house
and barns for a moment, and flooding all the
neighborhood with a stronger smell of burnt hay.
If you're going to burn hay," soliloquized
Dab, it wont do to take a barn for a stove. Not
that kind of a barn. But what did Ham Morris
mean by saying I was to go to boarding-school?
That 's what I 'd like to know."
The secret was out.
He had kept remarkably still, for him, all the
evening, and had not asked a question; but if his
brains were ever to work over his books as they had
over Ham's remark, his future chances for sound
sleep were all gone. It had come upon him so
suddenly, the very thing he had been wishing for
during all those walks and talks and lessons of all
sorts with Ford Foster and Frank Harley ever since
the cruise of the Swallow."
It was a wonderful idea, and Dab had his doubts
as to the way his mother would take to it when it
should be brought seriously before her. Little he
guessed the truth. Ham's remark had found other
ears as well as Dabney's, and there were reasons,
therefore, why good Mrs. Kinzer was sitting by the
window of her own room, at that very moment, as
little inclined to sleep as was the boy she was think-
ing of. So proud of him, too, she was, and so full
of bright, motherly thoughts of the man he would
make "one of these days, when he gets his growth."
There must have been a good deal of sympathy
between Dab and his mother, for, by and by, just
as she began to feel drowsy and muttered, Well,
well, we '11 have a talk about it to-morrow," Dab
found himself nodding against the window-frame,
and slowly rose from his chair, remarking:
Guess I might as well finish that dream in bed.
If I'd tumbled out o' the window I 'd have lit
among Mirandy's rose-bushes. They 've got their
thorns all on at this time o' night."
It was necessary for them both to sleep hard after
that, for more than half the night was gone and
they were to be up early. So indeed they were;
but what surprised Mrs. Kinzer when she went into
the kitchen was to find Miranda there before her.
You here, my dear ? That's right. I 'll take
a look at the milk-room. Where's Ham ?"
"Out among the stock. Dab's just gone to him."
Curious things people will do at times. Miranda
had put down the coffee-pot on the range. There
was not a single one of the farm help around,
male or female, and there stood the blooming


1878.]






DAB KINZER.


young bride, with her back toward her mother,
and staring out through the open door. And then
Mrs. Kinzer slipped forward and put her arms
around her daughter's neck.
Well, it was very early in the morning for those
two women to stand there and cry; but it seemed
to do them good, and Miranda remarked, at last,
as she kissed Mrs. Kinzer: mother, it is all
so good and beautiful, and I 'm so happy."
And then they both laughed in a subdued and
quiet way, and Miranda picked up the coffee-pot
while her mother walked away into the milk-room.
Such cream as there seemed to be on all the
pans that morning !
As for Ham Morris, his first visit, on leaving the
house, had been to the ashes of the old barn, as a
matter of course.
Not much of a loss," he said to himself; but
it might have been but for Dab. There 's the
making of a man in him. Wonder if he 'd get
enough to eat if we sent him up yonder. On the
whole, I think he would. If he did n't, I don't
believe it would be his fault. He 's got to go, and
his mother'll agree, I know. Talk about mothers-
in-law. If one of'em 's worth as much as she is,
I 'd like to have a dozen. Don't know, though.
I 'm afraid the rest would have to take back seats
while Mrs. Kinzer was in the house."
Very likely Ham was right; but just then he
heard the voice of Dab Kinzer behind him.
I say, Ham, when you 've looked at the other
things I want to show you the Swallow.' I have n't
hurt her a bit, and her new grapnel's worth three
of the old one."
All right, Dab. I think I 'd like a sniff of the
water. Come on. There's nothing else like that
smell of the shore with the tide half out."
No more there is, and there have been sea-shore
men, many of them, who had wandered away into
the interior of the country, hundreds and hundreds
of long miles, and settled there, and even got rich
and old there, and yet who have come all the way
back again just to get another smell of the salt
marshes and the sea breeze and the outgoing tide.
Ham actually took a little boat and went on
board the Swallow when they reached the land-
ing, and Dab kept close by him.
She 's all right, Ham. But what are you cast-
ing loose for?"
Dab, they wont all be ready for breakfast in two
hours. The stock and things can go. The men
'11 'tend to 'em. Just haul on that sheet a bit.
Now the jib. Look out for the boom. There.
The wind's a little ahead, but it is n't bad. Ah !"
The last word came out in a great sigh of relief,
and was followed by a chuckle which seemed to
gurgle up all the way from Ham's boots.


This is better than railroading," he said to
Dabney, as they tacked into the long stretch where
the inlet widened toward the bay. No pounding
or jarring here. Talk of your fashionable watering-
places Why, Dab, there aint anything else in the
world prettier than that reach of water and the
sand island with the ocean beyond it. There's
some ducks and some gulls. Why, Dab, do you
see that ? There 's a porpoise inside the bar."
It was as clear as daylight that Ham Morris felt
himself "at home again, and that his brief expe-
rience of the outside world had by no means
lessened his affection for the place he was born in.
If the entire truth could have been known, it would
have been found that he felt his heart warm toward
the whole coast and all its inhabitants, including
the clams. And yet it was remarkable how many
of the latter were mere empty shells when Ham
finished his breakfast that morning. He preferred
them roasted, and his mother-in-law had not for-
gotten that trait in his character.
Once or twice in the course of the sail Dabney
found himself on the point of saying something
about boarding-schools, but each time his friend sud-
denly broke away to discuss other topics, such as
blue-fish, porpoises, crabs, or the sailing qualities of
the "Swallow," and Dab dimly felt it would be
better to wait till another time. So he waited.
And then, as they sailed up the inlet, very happy
and very hungry, he suddenly exclaimed: Ham,
do you see that ? How could they have guessed
where we had gone ? There's the whole tribe, and
the boys are with 'em, and Annie."
What boys and Annie?"
Oh, Ford Foster and Frank Harley. Annie is
Ford's sister."
What's become of Jenny ?"
"You mean my boat? Why, there she is,
hitched a little out, there by the landing."
And Dabney did not seem to guess the meaning
of Ham's queer, quizzical smile.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THERE was a sort of council at the breakfast
table of the Foster family that morning, and Ford
and Annie found themselves "voted down."
Annie, my dear," said Mrs. Foster, in a gentle
hut decided way, "I 'm sure your aunt Maria, if
not your uncle, must feel hurt about your coming
away so suddenly. If we invite Joe and Foster to
visit us, it will make it all right."
"Yes!"sharply exclaimed Mr. Foster. "We
must have them come. They '11 behave themselves
here. I '1 write to their father; you write to Maria."
They're her own boys, you know," added Mrs.
Foster, soothingly.


[SEPTEMBER,






DAB KINZER.


Well, mother," said Annie, if it must be.
But I 'm sure they '11 make us all very uncomfort-
able. "
I can stand 'em for a week or so," said Ford,
with the air of a man who can do or bear more than
most people. I'll get Dab Kinzer to help me
entertain them."
Excellent," said Mr. Foster, and I hope they
will be civil to him."
To Dabncy ? asked Annie.
Fuz and Joe civil to Dab Kinzer?" exclaimed
Ford.
Certainly, I hope so."
"Father," said Ford, may I say just what I
was thinking ?"
Speak it right out."
Well, I was thinking what a good time Fuz
and Joe would be likely to have trying to get ahead
of Dab Kinzer."
Annie looked at her brother and nodded, and
there was a bit of a twinkle in the eyes of the law-
yer himself, but he only remarked :
Well, you must be neighborly. I don't believe
the Hart boys know much about the sea-shore."
"Dab and Frank and I will try and educate
them."
Annie thought of the ink and her box of ruined
cuffs and collars while her brother was speaking.
Could it be that Ford meant a good deal more than
he was saying? At all events she fully agreed with
him on the Dab Kinzer question. That was one
council, and it was of peace or war according as
events and the Hart boys themselves should deter-
mine.
At the same hour, however, matters of even
greater importance were coming to a decision
around the well-filled breakfast-table in the Morris
mansion. Ham had given a pretty full account of
his visit to Grantley, including his dinner at Mrs.
Myers', and all he had learned of the academy.
It seems like spending a great deal of money,"
began Mrs. Kinzer, when Ham at last paused for
breath, but he caught her up at once with, I
know you 've been paying out a great deal, Mother
Kinzer, but Dab must go if I pay- "
You pay, indeed, for my boy I 'd like to sec
myself. Now I 've found out what he is, I mean
he shall have every advantage, if this Grantley 's
the right place."
Mother," exclaimed Samantha, it's the very
place Mr. Foster is to send Ford to, and Frank
Harley."
"Exactly," said Ham. Mr. Hart spoke of a
Mr. Foster,-his brother-in-law,-a lawyer."
"Why," said Keziah, he's living in our old
house now Ford Foster is Dab's greatest crony."
Yes, I heard about it last night, but I had n't


put the two together," said Ham. Do you really
mean Dab is to go ?"
Of course," said Mrs. Kinzer.
Well, if that is n't doing it easy. Do you know
it's about the nicest thing since I got here ? "
Except the barn afire," said Dabney, unable to
keep still any longer. '" Mother, may I stand on
my head a while ? "
"You'll need all the head you've got," said
Ham. You wont have much time to get ready."
"Books enough after he gets there," exclaimed
Mrs. Kinzer. I 'l risk Dabney."
And they'll make him give up all his slang,"
added Samantha.
Yes, Sam, when I come back I'll talk nothing
but Greek and Latin. I'm getting French now
from Ford, and Hindoo from Frank Harley. Then
I know English and slang and Long Islandish.
Think of one man with seven first-rate languages."
But Dabney found himself unable to sit still, even
at the breakfast-table. Not that he got up hungry,
for he had done his duty by Miranda's cookery,
but the house itself seemed too small to hold him,
with all his new prospects swelling so within him.
Perhaps, too, the rest of the family felt better able
to discuss the important subject before them after
Dab had taken himself into the open air.
It beats dreaming all hollow," said the latter to
himself, as he stood, with his hands in his pockets,
i-.'- ,. down toward the gate between the two
farms. "Now I'll see what can be done about
that other matter."
Two plans in one head, and so young a head as
that ? Yes, and it spoke very well for Dab's heart,
as well as his brains, that plan number two was not
a selfish one. The substance of it came out in the
first five minutes of the talk he had with Ford and
Frank, on the other side of the gate.
Ford, you know there's twenty dollars left of
the money the Frenchman paid us for the blue-fish."
Well, what of it ? Is n't it yours? "
One share's mine; the rest yours and Dick's."
He needs it more 'n I do."
Ford, did you know Dick was real bright? "
"'Cute little chap as I ever saw. Why ?"
Well, he ought to go to school."
Why don't he go ? "
He does, except in summer. He might go to
the academy if they 'd take him and he had money
enough."
What academy ?"
"Why, Grantley, of course. I'm going, and
so are you and Frank. Why should n't Dick go ? "
You 're going ? Hurrah for that! Why did n't
you say so before ? "
W~as n't sure till this morning. You fellows '11
be a long way ahead of me, but I mean to catch up.'






DAB KINZER.


For a few minutes poor Dick was lost sight of in
a storm of talk, but Dab came back to him with:
Dick's folks are dreadful poor, but we might
raise it. Twenty dollars to begin with -- "
I've ten dollars laid up, and I know mother'l1
say pass it right in," exclaimed Ford.
It was hardly likely Mrs. Foster would express
her assent precisely in that way, but Frank added:
I think I can promise five."
"1 mean to speak to Ham Morris and mother
about it," said Dab. All I wanted was to fix it
about the twenty to start on."
Frank," shouted Ford, let 's go right in and
see our crowd."
Ford was evidently excited, and it was hardly five
minutes later when he wound up his story with:
Father, may I contribute my ten dollars to the
Richard Lee Education Fund?"
Of course, but he will need a good deal more
than you boys can raise."
"Why, father, the advertisement says half a
year for a hundred and fifty. He can board for
less than we can. Perhaps Mrs. Myers would let
him work out a part of it."
I can spare as much as Ford can," said Annie.
"Do you leave me out entirely?" asked her
mother, with a smile that was even sweeter than
usual. As for sharp-eyed lawyer Foster, he had
been hemming and coughing in an odd sort of way
for a moment, and he had said, "I declare," seve-
ral times, but he now remarked, somewhat more to
the purpose: I don't believe in giving any man a
better education than he will ever know what to do
with, but then, this Dick Lee, and you boys,-well,
see what you can do, but no one must be allowed
to contribute outside of the Foster and Kinzer
families and Frank. As for the rest, hem,-ah, I
think I'11 say there wont be any difficulty."
"You, father? "
Why not, Annie? Do you s'pose I'm going to
be beaten by a mere country boy like Dab Kinzer?"
Father," said Ford, if you 'd seen how Dick
behaved, that night, out there on the ocean, in the
' Swallow "
Just as well, just as well, my son!"
Hurrah shouted Ford, then it's all right,
and Dick Lee 'll have a fair shake in the world."
A what, my son? exclaimed his mother.
"I did n't mean to talk slang, mother, I only
meant,-well, you know how dreadfully black he is,
but then he can steer a boat tip-top, and he 's
splendid for crabs and blue-fish, and Dab says he's
a good scholar, too."
Dab 's a very good boy," said Mrs. Foster,
"but your friend Dick will need an outfit, I
imagine. Clothes and almost everything. I must
see Mrs. Kinzer about it."


Meantime Dick Lee's part in the matter had
been taken for granted all around. An hour later,
however, Mrs. Kinzer's first reply to her son, after
a calculation on his part which made it almost seem
as if Dick would make money by going to Grantley,
was: Wlat if Mrs. Lee says she can't spare
him ? "
Dab's countenance fell. He knew Mrs. Lee, but
he had not thought so far as that.
"Well, Dabney, if we can make the other
arrangements, I'11 see her about it."
Ham Morris had been exchanging remarkable
winks with Miranda and Samantha, and now gravely
suggested : May be the academy authorities will
refuse to take him."
They had a blacker boy than he is there last
year, Ford says."
Now, Dab," exclaimed Ham.
"Well, I know he's pretty black, but it don't
come off."
"Mother," said Samantha, "Mrs. Foster and
Annie are coming through the gate."
Dab just waited long enough, after that, to learn
the news concerning the Richard Lee Education
Fund," and Mr. Foster's offer, and then he was off
toward the shore. He knew very well in which
direction to go, for, half-way to the landing, he met
Dick coming up the road with a basket of eels on
his arm.
Dick, I 'm going to boarding-school, at an
academy."
"'Cad'my ? Whar ?"
Up in New England. They call it Grantley
Academy. Where Ford and Frank are going."
Dat spiles it all," exclaimed Dick, ruefully.
" Now I 's got to fish wid fellers 'at don't know
nuffin."
"No you wont. You're going with us. It's
all fixed, money and all."
Dick would never have thought of questioning a
statement made by "Captain Kinzer," but the rue-
ful expression deepened on his face, the basket of
eels dropped heavily on the grass, the tough, black
fingers twisted nervously together for a moment,
and then he sat mournfully down beside the basket.
It aint no use, Dab."
"No use? Why not?"
I aint a w'ite boy."
What of it? Don't you learn well enough
over at the school ? "
"More dar like me. Wot 'd I do in a place
whar all de res' was w'ite ? "
Well as anybody."
Wot '11 my mudder say, w'en she gits de news ?
You is n't a jokin', is you, Dab Kinzer? "
"Joking? I guess not."
You's lit on me powerful sudden, 'bout dis.


[SEPTEMBER,







DAB KINZER.


Yonder's Ford an' Frank a-comin'. Don't tell 'em,
not jist yet."
"They know all about it. They helped raise
the money."
"Did dey? Well, 'taint no use. All I's good
for is eels and crabs and clams and sech. Har dey
come. Oh, my! "
But Ford and Frank brought a fresh gust of
enthusiasm with them, and they had Dick and his


"I HAS N'T SAID HE MIGHT GO."
eels up from the grass in short order. We must
see Mrs. Lee right away," said Ford. "It would
never do to let Dick tell her."
Guess dat 's so," said Dick.
Quite an embassy they made, those four boys,
with Dab Kinzer for spokesman, and Dick half
crouching behind him. Mrs. Lee listened with
open mouth while Dab unfolded his plan, but when
he had finished she shut her lips firmly together.
They were not very thin and not at all used to
being shut, and in another instant they opened
again.
Sho De boy Is dat you, Dick? Dat's wot
comes of dressing' on him up. How 's he going' to
git clo'es ? Wot's he got to do wid de 'cad'my,
anyhow ? Wot am I to do, yer, all alone, arter he 's
VoL. V.-50.


gone, I'd like to know ? Who's goin' to run
err'nds an' do de choahs? Wot's de use ob bringing'
up a boy 'n' den hab 'im go trapesin' off to de
'cad'my ? Wot good'll it do 'im ? "
I tole yer so, Dab," groaned poor Dick. "It
aint no use. I 'most wish I was a eel."
Dab was on the point of opening a whole broad-
side of eloquence when Ford Foster pinched his
arm and whispered: Your mother's coming, and
our Annie's with her."
Then let's clear out. She 's worth a ten-acre
lot full of us. Come on, boys."
If Mrs. Lee was surprised by their very sudden
retreat, she need. not have been after she learned
the cause of it. She stood in wholesome awe of
Mrs. Kinzer, and a "brush" with the portly widow,
re-enforced by the sweet face of Annie Foster, was
a pretty serious matter. Still, she did not hesitate
about beginning the skirmish, for her tongue was
already a bit loosened.
Wot's dis yer, Mrs. Kinzer, 'bout sending' away
my Dick to a furrin 'cad'my ? Is n't he most nigh
nuff sp'iled already? "
Oh, it 's all arranged, nicely. Miss Foster and
I only came over to see what we could do about
getting his clothes ready. He must have things
warm and nice, for the winters are cold up there."
"I hasn't said he might go,-Dick, put down
dem eels,-an' he has n't said he'd go,-Dick, take
off your hat,-an' his father "
"Now, Glorianna," interrupted Mrs. Kinzer,
calling Dick's mother by her first name, "I've
known you these forty years, and do you s'pose I'm
going to argue about it ? Just tell us what Dick 'll
need, and don't let's have any nonsense. The
money 's all provided. How do you know what '11
become of him ? He may be governor yet "
He mought preach."
That idea had suddenly dawned upon the per-
plexed mind of Mrs. Lee, and Dick's fate was
settled. She was prouder than ever of her boy,
and, truth to tell, her opposition was only what
Mrs. Kinzer had considered it, a piece of unac-
countable nonsense," to be brushed away by such
a hand as the widow's.

CHAPTER XIX.

THAT was a great day for the boys, but, before
the close of it, Ford Foster had told his friends the
news that Joe Hart and his brother Fuz had been
invited to visit with him.
"Will they come ? asked Dab.
"Certainly. That kind of boy always comes.
Nobody wants to keep him from coming."
When do you look for them ?"
''Right away. Vacation's most gone, you know."







DAB KINZER. .


Wont they be ashamed to meet your sister "
Not a bit. They'll try their tricks even after
they get here."
SAll right. We'll help 'em all we know how.
But, boys, I tell you what we must try for."
"What's that? "
One grand, good sailing party, in the Swal-
low,' before they get here."
Hurrah for that Annie was wishing for one
only yesterday."
We '11 have all of your folks and all of ours.
The Swallow' 's plenty big enough."
"Mother would n't go and father can't, just
now. He's trying a case. But there 's Annie and
Frank and me --"
And my mother and Ham and Miranda and
our girls. Ham'11 go, sure. Then we must take
Dick Lee along. It'd make him sick if we did n't."
"Of course. And aint I glad about him?
Could we get ready and go to-morrow ? "
Guess not so quick as that. We might by the
day after, if the weather's all right."
Exactly. There is always a large sized if" to
be put in where anything depends on the weather.
Mrs. Kinzer took the matter up with enthusiasm,
and so did the girls, Miranda included, and Ford
Foster was right about his own part of the com-
pany.
But the weather !
It looked well enough to unpracticed eyes, but
Ham Morris shook his head and went to consult
his fishermen friends. Every human barometer
among them warned him to wait a day or so.
Such warm, nice weather," remonstrated Ford
Foster, and there is n't any wind to speak of."
There's too much of it coming," was Ham's
response, and there was no help for it. Not even
when the mail brought word from Aunt Maria "
that her two boys would arrive in a day or so.
Our last chance is gone, Annie," said Ford,
when the news came.
0, mother, what shall we do? "
Have your sail, just the same, and invite your
cousins."
"But the Kinzers-
"Why, Annie Mrs. Kinzer will not think of
neglecting them. She 's as kind as kind can be."
And we are to pay her with Joe and Fuz," said
Ford. Well, I wish Ham Morris's storm would
come along."
He only had to wait till next day for it, and he
was quite contented to be on shore while it lasted.
There was no use in laughing at the prophecies of
the fishermen after it began to blow. Still, it was
not a long one, and Ham Morris remarked: "This
is only an outside edge of it. It 's a good deal
worse at sea. Glad we're not out in it."


Ford Foster thought the worst of it was when
the afternoon train came in, and he had to show a
pair of tired, moist and altogether unpleasant
cousins to the room set apart for them. Just after
tea a note came over from inIrs. Kinzer, asking the
Hart boys to join the yachting party next morning.
The storm may not be over," growled Ford.
Oh," said Annie, Mrs. Kinzer adds that the
weather will surely be fine after such a blow, and
the bay will be quite safe and smooth."
"Does she know the clerk of the weather,"
asked Joe Hart.
Got one of her own," said Ford.
Fuz Hart laughed but said nothing. Both he
and his brother felt a little strange as yet, and
were almost inclined to try and behave themselves.
When morning came, however, sea and earth
and sky seemed to be the better for what they had
just been through. The grass and trees were
greener and the bay seemed bluer, while the few
clouds visible in the sky were very white and clean,
as if all the storms had been washed out of them.
Not a single thing went wrong in Mrs. Kinzer's man-
agement of the "setting out" of the party, and
that was half the day now to begin with. Ford had
some trouble in getting Joe and Fuz up so very
early, but an intimation that Ham Morris would n't
wait five minutes for the Queen of England, or
even me," was sufficient to rouse them.
"Joe," whispered Fuz, after they got on board,
" are we to be gone a week ? "
"Why? What'sup?"
Such piles of provisions as they 've stowed away
in that kennel "
The bit of a water-tight cabin under the half-
deck, at which Fuz pointed, was pretty well filled,
beyond a doubt, but Mrs. Kinzer knew what she
was about. She had provided lunch for most of
that party before, and the effect of the sea-air was
also to be taken into account.
"Dab," said Ford Foster, you've forgotten
to unhitch the 'Jenny.' Here she is, towing astern."
That's all right. We may need her. She 's
too heavy to take on board."
A careful fellow was Mr. Hamilton Morris, and
he knew very well the value of a row-boat to a pic-
nic party. As for Joe and Fuz they were compelled
to overcome a strong inclination to cast the boat
loose. Such a joke it would have been, but Ham
was in the way as long as he held the tiller.
The Swallow was steady" enough to inspire
even Annie Foster with a feeling of confidence,
but Ford carefully explained to her the difference
between slipping along over the little waves of the
land-locked bay, and plunging into the great bil-
lows of the stormy Atlantic.
I prefer this," said Annie.


[SEPTEMBER,







DAB KINZER.


But I would n't have missed the other for any-
thing," replied Ford. "Would you, Dick? "
Mr. Richard Lee had taken his full share in the
work of starting, and had made himself singularly
useful, but if all the rest had not been so busy they
would have noticed his silence. Hardly a word had
he uttered, that anybody could remember, and,
now he was forced to say something, his mouth
opened slowly, as if he had never tried to speak
before and was not quite sure he knew how:
No,-Mr.-Foster,-I-would-not-have-missed-
that- trip -for-a- good -deal."
Every word by itself, and as different from Dick's
ordinary talk as a cut stone is from a rough one.
Ham Morris opened his eyes wide, and Ford puck-
ered up his lips in a sort of a whistle, but Annie
caught the meaning of it quicker than they did.
Dick," she said, "are we to fish to-day ?"
May be,-but-that-depends-on-Mr.-Morris."
Every word slowly and carefully uttered, a good
deal like a man counts over doubtful money, look-
ing sharp for a counterfeit.
Look here, Dick! suddenly exclaimed Dab
Kinzer, I give it up. You can do it. But don't
try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as any-
thing, if you do."
Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab ?" anxiously
inquired Dick, with a happy look on his black,
merry face.
"Every word," said Dab. Well for you they
were all short. Keep on practicing."
I'll jest do dat, shuah "
Practicing? Yes, that was it, and Dick himself
joined heartily in the peal of laughter with which
the success of his first attempt at "white folk's
English" was received by the party. Dab ex-
plained that as soon as Dick found he was really
to go to the academy he determined to teach his
tongue new habits, and the whole company
heartily approved, even while they joined Dab in
advising him not to try too much at a time.
Plenty of talk and fun all around as the Swal-
low skimmed onward, and the long, low outlines
of the narrow sand-island were rapidly becoming
more distinct.
Is that a light-house ? asked Annie of Dab.
Yes, and there 's a wrecking station close by."
Men there all the while? Are there many
wrecks on this coast ? "


Ever so many, and there used to be more of
them. It was a bad place to run ashore, in those
days. Almost as bad as Jersey."
Why? "
"Because of the wreckers. The shore's bad
enough, and the bar's a mean place to escape on,
but the wreckers used to make it worse."
And Dab launched out into a slightly exagger-
ated description of the terrors of the Long Island
coast in old times and new,- and of the character
of the men who were formerly the first to find out
if anything or anybody had gone ashore.
What a prize that French steamer would have
been !" said Annie, "the one you took Frank
Harley from."
No, she would n't. Why, she was n't wrecked
at all. She only stuck her nose in the sand and
lay still till the tugs pulled her off. That is n't a
wreck. A wreck is where the ship is knocked to
pieces and people are drowned, and all that sort of
thing. Then the wreckers have a notion that every-
thing that comes ashore belongs to them. Why,
I've heard even some of our old fishermen-best
kind of men, too-talk of how government has
robbed 'em of their rights."
By the new system ?"
By having wrecks prevented, and saving the
property for the owners."
"Is n't that strange Did you say they were
good men ? "
Some of 'em. Honest as the day is long about
everything else. But they were n't all so. There
was old Peter, and he lives on the Island yet.
There 's his cabin now. You can just see it in the
edge of that great sand-hill."
What a queer thing it is !"
Sometimes the storms drift the sand all over it,
and old Peter has to dig it out again. He's snowed
under two or three times every winter."
They were now coasting along the island, at no
great distance, and, although it was not nearly
noon, Dab heard Joe Hart say to his brother:
Never was so hungry in all my life. Glad they
did lay in a good stock of provisions."
So am I," returned Fuz. Isn't there any
such thing as our getting into the cabin "
No, there was not, so long as Mrs. Kinzer was
the stewardess" of that expedition, and Joe and
Fuz were compelled to wait her motions.


(To be continued.)







THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS.


THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS; OR, CHARLEY AND
THE OLD FOLKS.

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


. --- -.

. . . . . . .


_- -~T




CIE-:
~~U~; r
I,- ~
c~:-- ---. F-_
"-- -~F-;-- ~-~ f
-CL~
--


-7,


[A C cNNING fox perceived some turkeys roosting securely on the bough of a high tree. Unable to climb, he resolved to get at them in
another way. Night after night he stationed himself beneath the tree, and there played off all sorts of curious tricks. He jumped, he
capered, he turned somersaults, he walked on his hind legs, he pretended to be dead, he raised and expanded his tail until, in the moonlight,
it looked like a flame of fire,-in short, he performed every antic conceivable. The turkeys, who, to sleep in safety, had only to turn their
backs and forget the fox, were so agitated and excited by his pranks that for whole nights they never closed their eyes; the consequence
was that they lost strength, and one by one dropped from the bough and into the jaws of Renard, who soon made an end of them.
Moral.-It is unwise to concern one's self with the tricks and antics of mischievous persons.-La Fntaine's Fables.]


IT was midsummer at the old Brush Farm.
When I say midsummer," how many pretty things
it means,-woods at their freshest and greenest,
meadows sweet with newly cut hay, cinnamon-roses
in the hedges and water-lilies in the ponds, bees
buzzing in and out of the clove-pinks and larkspurs
which edge the beds of cabbages and carrots in the
kitchen-garden, a humming-bird at work in the
scarlet trumpets of the honeysuckle on the porch,-
everywhere the sense of fullness and growth, with
no shadow as yet of rankness or decay. August
is over-ripe. September's smile is sad, but mid-
summer is all rosy hope, the crown and blossom
of the year.
Charley Brush lay under an apple-tree, face
downward, and absorbed in "The Red Rover," a
book he had read at least ten times before. Stories
about ships and sea-life and freebooters and bucca-
neers were his favorite reading, and, unfortunately,


what with illustrated papers and cheap novels,
and so-called Boys' books," plenty of such tales
abound nowadays. I say unfortunately, for beside
teaching him nothing, these books made Charley
utterly dissatisfied with his life at home. Hoeing
vegetables, chopping wood, and going to the dis-
trict school, seemed dull work indeed to a boy who
was longing to stand sword in hand on a blood-
stained deck, in a gory uniform trimmed with skulls
and cross-bones, and order his enemies to be thrown
one by one into the sea. The shark awaits your
car-casses spouted the imaginary desperado with
a vicious snap of his teeth; and when Aunt Greg
interrupted by asking him to bring in an armful
of kindling, he glared at her like the Red Rover
himself. Poor Aunt Greg how little she guessed
what was passing in his mind !
You look real pale to-day," she said. I was
afraid all that mince-pie for supper would be bad


[SEPTEMBER,







1878.] THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS.


for you. Here, Charley, I '1 mix you some ginger-
and-water. That 'll settle you, and make all right
again."
Mis-cre-ant was what Charley yearned to
say, but instead he muttered, gruffly, I aint sick,
and I don't want no ginger." Very bad grammar,
as you perceive; but grammar seemed such an
unnecessary accomplishment for a would-be bucca-
neer, that Charley never could be induced to pay
the least attention to it.
That afternoon, under the apple-tree, he made
up his mind. A pirate he must and he would be,
by fair means or by foul. He was cunning enough
to know that the very word '" pirate would frighten
his grandmother into fits, so he only asked her
leave to go to sea. Going to sea was, to his mind, a
necessary first step toward the noble profession he
desired to enter.
I want to so bad," he whined. Please say I
may."
Grandmother began to cry. Aunt Hitty was
sure he must be out of his mind, and ran for the
Epsom salts. Aunt Greg quoted, There's no
place like home," and told a story about a boy she
once heard of who ran away to sea and never came
back, "foundered or drowndered," she could n't
remember which. Aunt Prue seized his shoulders
and gave him a sound shake. This was what came
of idling over story-books all day long, she'said,-
he could just shut up and go and give the pig its
supper, and not let her hear any more trash like
that-making them all feel so bad about nothing.
Charley twisted his shoulder out of her grasp
with a scowl, but he took the pail and went out to
the pen. All the time that piggy ate, he was con-
sidering what to do. I'll tease 'em," he decided,
" and tease and tease, and then they 'll let me go."
So he did tease, and plead and expostulate, but
it was all in vain. Grandmother and the aunts
could not be reached by any of his entreaties, and
at the end of a week he seemed as far from his
desire as ever.
You will wonder, perhaps, that Charley did not
run away, as so many boys do in books, and a few
out of them. Somehow he never thought of that.
He was not a hardy, adventurous fellow at all.
His desire to go to sea was a fancy born of foolish
reading, and he wanted to have his going made
easy for him.
I must set to work in another way," he thought
at last. Asking of 'em aint no use. I must
make 'em want to have me go." Then he fell to
thinking how this could be done.
"Aunt Hitty would n't hold out long if the
others did n't," he thought. '' I could coax her
into it as easy as fun. She'll do anything if I kiss
and pet her a bit. Then there's Aunt Greg,-she


thinks so much of poetry and such stuff.I '11 hunt
up the pieces in the 'Reader' about 'The sea, the
sea, the deep blue sea,' and all that, and learn 'em
and say 'em to her, and I '11 tell her about coral
groves and palm-trees, and make her think it's the
jimmiest thing going to sail off and visit 'em.
Grandmother's always bothering about my being
sick, and afraid of this and afraid of that; so I '11
just be sick-so sick that nothing but a viyage 'll
cure me As for Aunt Prue, 't aint no use trying
to impose on her. I guess I '11 have to be real
hateful and troublesome to Aunt Prue. I 'll tease
pussy and slop on the pantry shelves, and track up
the floor every time she mops it, and leave the dip-
per in the sink, and all the other things she don't
like, and by and by she 'll be just glad to see the
last of me! Hi !-that'll fetch 'em all!" He
ended his reflections with a chuckle. Charley was n't
really a bad boy,-not bad through and through,
that is,-but he had a cunning, tricky side to his
nature which made him like to play on the weak-
nesses of his grandmother and aunts. A sharp boy
may prove more than a match for four unsuspect-
ing old women; and though in this case they were
in the right and he in the wrong, none the less was
he likely to succeed in his crafty plans.
He waited a few days to let opposition subside,
and then began his tricks. Charley's first victim
was Aunt Hitty. She was a gentle, weak-minded
person, easy to persuade, and when Charley put
his head into her lap and called her coaxing names,
and was sure she was too kind to disappoint him in
the thing he was set upon, her heart softened, and
she began to think that they all had been hard and
unkind. The dear boy wants to go awful bad,"
she told Aunt Greg, and to her surprise Aunt Greg
did not fly out and scold as she had expected, but
answered, with a sigh, I suppose sailing on the
ocean is beautiful!" Aunt Greg had never seen
the ocean in her life, but she was naturally roman-
tic; and Charley, who had been hard at work at
the "Reader," had crammed her with all sorts of
poetical quotations and fancies concerning it. Fly-
ing fish, coral islands, pole stars, dolphins, gallant
mariners, wet sheets and flowing seas, figured
largely in these extracts, but there was no mention
whatever of storms, sharks, drowning, hard work,
or anything disagreeable. Aunt Greg could not
see the charm of '"wet sheets," but all the rest
sounded delightful; and gradually a picture formed
itself in her mind of a sea which was always blue
and always smooth, and of Charley standing on the
deck of a ship repeating poetry to himself in the
moonlight; and her opposition grew feebler and
feebler.
Charley 's got a lot of ideas in his head," she
said one day when she and her sisters were slicing






THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS.


apples for drying. He aint no common boy,
Charley aint. He'll make a mark yet-see if he
don't."
Dear little fellow !" sighed Aunt Hitty. So
lovin' and affectionate! He used to be a little
worrisome in his ways at times, but he's got all
over that! "
Oh, has he ? snapped Aunt Prue. I'd like
to know when ? He's been more of a plague the
last six weeks than ever in his life before. When
he upset that milk last night I could have cuffed
him. It's the third time since Wednesday. Mark,
indeed! The only mark he'll ever make is a dirt-
mark on clean floors. The kitchen looks like
Sancho at this moment. I've washed it up twice
as often as ordinary, but as sure as I get it clean,
in he comes stamping about with his muddy boots
and tracks it from end to end. I believe he does it
a-purpose."
O, Prue!" began Aunt Hitty, in a pleading
tone, while Aunt Greg broke in, indignantly:
"A-purpose! Well! Charley's mind is on other
things, I can tell you, and it's no wonder he some-
times forgets to wipe his feet."
Other things Getting off to sea, I suppose
you mean ?" remarked Aunt Prue, grimly. He's
pulled the wool over your eyes and Hitty's finely, I
declare. As for me, if he 's goin' on to behave as
he has done for a spell back, the sooner he quits
the better. I wash my hands of him," and Aunt
Prue flounced into the buttery just as Grandmother
came in at the other door.
"Charley is it you was talking about?" she
asked. Did you hear him coughin' last night?
I did, and I could n't sleep a wink for w-orrying
about it. A real deep cough it was. Do you sup-
pose it the lungs, and what 's good for him to
take ? "
He's well enough except for mischief," put in
Aunt Prue through the buttery door.
Prue never thinks anything ails anybody," said
Mrs. Brush, sinking her voice to a whisper. I 'm
really consarned about Charley. He don't cat
hardly anything at dinner. That aint a bit natural
for a growing' boy. And he says he lies awake a
great deal of nights. He thinks it's the air about
here makes him feel bad, but I don't know if he's
right about it. I wish we 'd a doctor here to
say if going off to sea-or somewhere-would be
the best thing for him. I 'm clean confused as to
what we 'd best do about it, but I 'm real uneasy
in my mind."
Charley, coming in just then, chuckled to him-
self as he heard her.
So things went on, and by October Charley had
his wish. It was settled that he should go to sea.
Aunt Greg drove over to Wachuset Center and


consulted with old Mr. Greg, her father-in-law,
who was the wise man of the neighborhood.
Let him go-let him go," was Mr. Greg's
advice. When a chap like that gets the bit
between his teeth, it's no use to keep yanking at
the reins. Let him go for one long cruise, and see
how he likes it. Ten to one he'll come back then
and be glad to settle down. He aint the kind of
boy to make a sailor of, I judge. There's Ben
Bradley,-my first wife's cousin,-captain of one
of them China traders ; ship Charley with him.
I'll write a line, and I guess Ben '11 kind of keep an
eye on him for the sake of the connection."
So, late in the fall, Charley went to sea. Grand-
mother and the aunts felt dreadfully sad when it
came to the parting; but he was full of satisfaction
and triumph, and never shed a tear. The Helen
Weeks," as Captain Bradley's ship was named,
sailed from Boston on the second of November,
and for fifteen months nobody at home heard a
word of Charley.
Those were sad days at the old Brush Farm.
Grandmother fell ill from anxiety, and even Aunt
Prue looked white and miserable. Aunt Greg and
Aunt Hitty spent their time crying in corners, and
"Why did we let him go?" was the language of
all their hearts. But in February, when every-
thing was at its coldest and iciest, Charley came
back,-Charley or his ghost, for the tall, thin,
starved-looking ragged boy set down at the gate
was very unlike the stout, rosy lad of the year
before.
He was so weak and forlorn that it was several
days before he recovered enough to explain what
had happened to him, and then it was little by
little, and not as I give it, in one connected story.
I don't ever want to go to sea again," he began.
" It aint a bit like what we thought it was. I don't
know why them chaps in the 'Reader' called it
'blue.' It's green and black and yellow, and all
kinds of colors, but I never see it look blue except-
in' when folks was looking at it from the land. It's
cold, too, and wet and nasty. I was n't dry once
for the first two months, it seems to me. Ugh I
hate it. Never let to sleep till you 're rested, and
such horrid stuff to eat, and sick-my, how sick I
was Captain Bradley was a fair enough sort of
man, but lie fell ill of China fever, and we had to
leave him behind in Canton, and Bill Bunce, the
first mate, took his place. After that we had a
hard time enough. I thought it was bad at first,
but it wasn't ii...l.,, to that. He was always
S.11.*.,o us boys, and swearing and kicking and
cuffing us about. Then we had a storm, and lost
our mainmast, and came near foundering; and
then we were stuck in a calm for three weeks, and
the water aboard ran short. That was the time I


[SEPTEMBER,






1878.] THE FOX AND THE TURKEYS. 759


had the fever. I 'd have died, I know, if it had n't
been for Tad Brice. He was one of the sailors, and
a real nice man. His boy at home was just as old
as I am, and he sort of took an interest in me from
the start. He used to come in and feed me, and
when we were put on allowance, he saved half his
water ration for me; and when I got to crying,
and thinking about home and you all, he'd --"
Here Charley choked and was silent. Aunt Hitty,
who sat next, possessed herself of his thin hand
and wept silently over it.
When I went away I meant to be a pirate, you
know," went on Charley.
A pirate !" cried Aunt Hitty and Aunt Greg
in awe-struck voices.
Yes. I did n't know much about what it
meant, but it sounded somehow nice in the books,
and I wanted to be one. But when I asked 'em
about it aboard they roared and hooted and made
fun, and they all called me Captain Kidd from that
time on. And once, when we were in Shanghai"
(Charley's voice sounded full of horror), "we saw
two pirates. Tad Brice said they was pirates. The
folks was taking 'em to jail. They was dreadful,
black and ugly, and their eyes were so fierce and


bad that it made me cold to look at 'em. I never
wanted to be a pirate any more after that, but
Bunce and the others, they all kept on calling me
Captain Kidd just the same."
"You absurd, ridiculous boy!" began Aunt
Prue, but Grandmother hushed her up.
Now, Prue, I wont have poor Charley scolded
when he's been so sick," she said-" He 's only a
boy, anyhow, and he's going to turn over a new
leaf now; aint you, Charley? and go to school
regular, and do his chores, and be the comfort of
his granny's life. He's had enough of goin' to
sea; have n't you, Charley? and he 'll stay on the
farm now, and we wont ever talk about this bad
time he 's had, and just be thankful to get him back
home again."
Charley did n't answer in words, but he turned
and gave Grandmother a big kiss, which she knew
meant "yes," and they were all very happy that
night as they sat together around the fire.
So you see that the fox, though he succeeded in
his tricks, was not a particularly happy fox after
all. Too much turkey may not be good for a fox,
and too much of his own way is certainly not good
for a boy.


/


/' I:
'/t


2I





~P/

1 t.


I-T I SHING.





700 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


HIDDY-DIDDY!


HIDDY-DIDDY Hiddy-diddy !-
Ten small chicks and one old biddy!
Cluck !" says Biddy, "cluck, cluck, cluck !"
Scratch as I do !-try your luck!"


How the chickens, one and all,
Crowd around her at her call!
One chick, missing, peeps to say:
"Chirp, chirp, chirp !-I 've lost my way!"


SEPTEMBER,





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


Shrill and shriller, comes the sound!
Chirp! chirp! chirp !-I shall be drowned!"
Biddy clucks, and bustles quick,-
"Where, oh, were 's my little chick ? "

Mister Rooster bustles, too,
Screaming Cock-a-doodle-doo !
Biddy, I just chanced to look,
And saw your bantling in the brook!"

"Gob !" shrieks Turkey, "gob, gob, gobble!
Mrs. Hen, you're in a hobble!
Why don't some one stir about,
And help your little chicken out?"

"Moo!" roars Sukey, "moo, moo, moo!
What is there that I can do?"
"Uff!" grunts Piggy, "uff, uff, uff!
Say you're sorry, that's enough."

"Quack !" says Ducky, "quack, quack, quack!
I have brought your chicken back!"
"Oh!" says Biddy, "cluck, cluck, cluck!
Thank you !--fank you / Mrs. Duck !"




THE SQUIRRELS AND THE CHESTNUT-BURR.


FOUR squirrels once
wanted the chestnuts in


saw a chestnut-burr growing on a tree. They
the burr, but were afraid to touch it, because it


was full of sharp points. Just then,
along came a flying-squirrel. I
will tell you what you must do,"
said he: "wait until the burr opens,
and the chestnuts fall out. The
burr always opens when the right
time comes." So they waited, and
got the chestnuts.


r- I

KA' .. c ~ -

,, r -a 7~C
~3t~ -=;


It is a good rule to wait until things are ready for us.






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


I.. -
~A4f --


I. -


J ',_. .. .

%W :


A. ACK-IN-T iiE-PULPIT.


VACATION'S over! School's begun A splen-
did holiday time you've had, no doubt, my dears,
and now you feel like setting to work again with
earnest good-will. That's right. But don't try to
do too much at first. Better start easily and keep
up the pace, than make a quick run for a while
only to falter and grow weary before you are half-
way.
MOQUI PEEKEE.
WORD is sent to me of a queer kind of bread
called Peekee," which is used by the Moqui
American Indians. It comes in square loaves that
are made by folding, twice across, several sheets
of what looks like very thin bluish-green crust.
First, the meal is made by women, who grind it
into flour between two stones, and then it is mixed
with water until it is a thin blue paste or batter, when
a little cedar-ash is sprinkled into it. The oven is
a smooth-faced stone heated by kindling a fire
under it. The batter is smeared over the hot stone,
and is soon baked into a thin sheet, about two feet
long and a foot and a half wide. Several sheets
are folded, while yet warm and soft, to make a loaf,
which is then set aside to dry.
This curious bread is very brittle and is eaten by
breaking off little bits with the fingers. People
who have never eaten it before soon become quite
fond of it.

POTATO BLOSSOMS AS ORNAMENTS.
"POTATO plants used to be grown, a very long
time ago, in front yards on Broadway, New York,
for the sake of the flowers, which were much prized
for bouquets and other ornamental purposes. How-
ever, the potatoes themselves,"-I suppose this
means the tubers,-" became such favorite food in
a few years, that the plants were promoted back-


ward from the flower-beds to the kitchen-gardens
and open fields. The beauty of the blossoms was
forgotten in the usefulness of their roots."
The moral of this paragram is: If you are merely
good-looking, you will not be apt to get on in life,
but will stay about where you are; and if it should
be found out that you can be put to use, you will
be planted in the open fields.
This does n't seem to read quite right, somehow;
but, dear me, what do we want with a moral all
the time? I leave you to find out what it ought
to be in this case, if you think it's worth while.
Only, if you do find out, I wish you would let me
know.
SHARP-WITTED ROBINS.
Detroit, Michigan.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Z. R. B's anecdote, A Congress of
Birds," in the July number, reminds me of an incident of which I was
an eye-witness:
A cherry-tree grew near the house, and was yearly full of luscious
cherries; but the robins scarcely allowed us to have one that did not
have their monogram picked in it. One year, however, my brother
determined to outwit the birds, and hung a large stuffed eagle from
one of the boughs. The birds assembled on a neighboring tree and
eyed the eagle sharply, while a grand consultation was held. Finally,
a courageous robin darted from the tree, swooped directly under the
eagle, and flew triumphantly back to tell the rest there was nothing to
be feared. At once the whole flock of robins flew to the cherry-tree,
and our hopes of a cherry-pie were doomed to disappointment for
that year. H. P. B.

A VERY DEAD LANGUAGE.
I ONCE heard of a green-colored South American
parrot who was more than one hundred years old.
This aged fellow could speak in a real language
which was known to have been used by a tribe of
South American Indians who, it is supposed, petted
and taught him when he was young. One by one
the Indians died, until there was no one left who
could understand a word of their language. The
poor old bird tried hard to keep cheerful, but there
were sorry times when he would mope by himself
and say over some of the words of the language
that had been spoken by his earliest and dearest
human friends.
That was a very dead language, indeed, my
dears; so dead that it is no wonder it made the old
green parrot blue to speak it now and then. How-
ever, by this time it is past all power to worry any-
body else, let us hope.

A PLANT THAT WALKS UPSIDE DOWN.
SHRUBS, trees, Jack-in-the-Pulpits, and all such
plants, grow with their roots down in the ground;
but I've lately heard that a man called a philoso-
pher, once wrote of a plant that grows and walks
with the roots upward !
Lord Francis Bacon is the man's name, and
the plant he meant is Man. Only he wrote in
Latin, I believe, and so, instead of calling Man "a
plant upside down," he called him planta inversa."
He explained these words by saying that the brain
in man, whence the nerves start, to spread like a
net-work all through the body, corresponds to the
roots in a plant.
If this is so, my dears, you are a kind of ,ll.i,
plants, only you are obliged to walk top-side down.


[SEPTEMBER,







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


This seems curious, but it is pleasant to think you
are not so very different from a Jack-in-the-Pulpit
after all.

THE SMALLEST INSECT KNOWN.
The Red Schoolhouse.
MIv DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: No doubt, you have heard of the
"leaf-cutter" bees, who line their nests with small round pieces of
leaves, which they themselves cut and then fit together so exactly,
without gum, that they hold their stores of honey and do not leak a
bit. Well, a sharp-eyed observer has found, on one of these bees, an
insect whose body is no longer than the width of the dot of this "i"
(I-goth of an inch), and which is believed to be the smallest insect
known. It is called Pteratomats, a word which means "winged
atom," and it lives entirely upon the body of the bee. It has beauti-
ful hairy wings, and long feelers, and its legs are rather like those of
a mosquito, though, of course, very much smaller. Its feet are so
small that they can only just be seen when magnified to four hundred
Limes their natural size! Now, for a full-grown insect, as it is, I think
the PteratonHus is very small.--Sincerely yours,
TuIE LITcTLE SCHOOLcnA'AIi.


changes of weather, and plants with hair can stand
more heat than bare ones." A. W. Ferris says:
If a plant that needs much moisture is dug up from its native wet
home and planted in a dry spot, hairs will sprout on it and try to get
front the air the moisture that can no longer be drawn from the earth.
But if you put back this plant in its old home, it will lose its hair-
becoming bald. Sometimes, plant-hairs are connected with glands
of poisonous liquid, as with the nettle, whose hairs we say 'sting '
because of the pain the poison gives when the skin is pricked by
them."
Frances and Margaret Bagley, also, write on
this subject, and I'm much obliged to all four.
Besides these letters, I've had word that plant-hair
is put to the following uses: On some plants it
catches insects and helps to eat them; in others,
the hair sends out a kind of juice which keeps away
insects that might harm the plant; on the mul-
leins, the stiff hairs are supposed to prevent cattle


1-C--- e
irr












_-W 64- 0_
tit








A WA5TER-SOUT.~


A WATER-SPOUT.
DID any of you ever hear of water-spouts at sea?
I don't know much about them myself, but the
ST. NICHOLAS artist will draw a picture of one for
you, and the editors will kindly put it in. Accord-
ing to travelers, the water seems to come down
from the clouds, or go up from the sea,-I don't
know which,-and drives along, through the storm,
in a great watery column. I have heard of whirl-
winds, and I think this might be called a "whirl-
water."
THE USES OF HAIR ON PLANTS.
M. E. K. writes, in answer to my question in
July, that her "Botany" book says, "Hair on
plants seems to afford them security against


from browsing on them; and on yet others, the
hairs suck in gases and liquids as part of the food
of the plants. And there may be other uses for
these hairs that I have n't heard of vet.

DARK SUNS.
HERE 'S something strange,-so strange that,
may be, you 'd better inquire further into it. I
give you the paragram just as it comes to me:
The bright star Sirius, itself a vast flaming sun,
has a companion which is also a sun,-nearly seven
times as large as our own.-but which is dark, and
gives no light at all. This dark sun was seen
through a very powerful telescope in 1862, and it
is thought that there are a great many like it,
although no others have been found."







THE LETTER-BOX. [SEPTEMBEI,


THE LETTER-BOX.


To the little girl wcul asks if Bryanio wrote any ioem tihat
would iintrest us children," anrd to a!l young readers of
ST. NICHOLAS :

Yes, indeed. You will find in the collected works of this beloved
American writer many songs and poems that you can understand
with ease and read with delight. A good, pure-hearted man, like
William Cullen Bryant; a man so honest, so simple and earnest, so
truly great, that with a deep knowledge of the world about him he
worshiped God, honored his fellow-man, and loved nature as a child
loves its mother-such a man could not be far removed from young
sympathies. He could not be a poet without singing, sometimes, just
the song that little folks would love to hear.
And children, themselves, were dear to him. More than once in
the course of an acquaintance that dates back to our own early youth,
we have seen his eyes light with pleasure at some incident of boy
and girl life. Often his kindly interest and hearty words about ST.
NICHOLAS have given us better hope and courage to try to make the
magazine just what it should be. Good from his quiet lips was
well worth striving for. His standard in everything was high. Hear
" The Old Man's Counsel," which, through his own verse, he once
gave to his own heart.

W" Visely, my son, while yet thy days are long,
And this fair change of seasons passes slow,
Gather and treasure up the good they yield-
All that they teach of virtue, of pure thoughts
And kind affections, reverence for thy God
And for thy brethren; so when thou shalt come
Into these barren years, thou mayst not bring
A mind unfurnished and a withered heart."

But Bryant was not always solemn in his teaching. If you like
playful, sprightly verses that yet are full of poetry, read his "Robert
of Lincoln," where

"Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee."


saw many a sorry sight. If you like a beautiful fairy-tale in verse,
all about children and the elves or sprites that children love, read hi:;
"Little People of The Snow." There also is the pretty legend of
"The White-footed Deer"; or if you bigger boys and girls wish
something more weird and exciting, read his tragic story of "Tite
Strange Lady." Then, on some lovely autumn day, when "the
melancholy days are come," and the procession of flowers has
nearly passed by, read his verses "To the Fringed Gentian." There
are other poems in the collection quite as easy to understand as theec.
Some of the most admired indeed, that would seem liard to many
a tall youngster at the head of the school class, were written in the
poet's own boyhood. His most famous poem, Thanatopsis," was
composed when he was but eighteen years of age. VWhen you, tuo,
are eighteen you will more than enjoy it, if you do not do so already.
But you will like a song of his youth,-lines "To a Waterfowl,"-
and the beautiful poem entitled "June," which has been very much
quoted of late because of the fulfillment of his wish that when lih
should come to lie at rest within the ground, he might be laid theie

"in flowery June,
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound."

Another beautiful poem, called Waiting by the Gate," will hb
quite clear to many of you; and one and all can understand "An
Invitation to the Country," addressed to Julia, the poet's devoted
daughter, the joy of his old age, who brightened his declining yeais,
and to the last was the faithful companion of his home.
You remember the story of his boyhood days that Mr. Bryant told
you in these pages nearly two years ago ? Good as that story is, there
is a picture in his lovely home at Roslyn that could tell you even bet-
ter things. It is the portrait of his beautiful young mother, which for
years has shone upon him from the walls of his bedroom with such a
strong, sweet, loving look in her face thatit makes one feelsure that he
was reared in a happy home, that his noble, useful manhood sprang
from a sunny, well-directed boyhood. Long ago the good mother
passed from earth, and now the gate through which she passed has
opened for him in his serene old age, the gate of which he wrote:

"And some approach the threshold whose looks are blank with fear,
And some whose temples brighten with joy in drawing near,
As if they saw dear faces, and caught the gracious eye
Of Him, the Sinless Teacher, who came for us to die.


And while the poet is telling you of these singers of the air, read I mark the joy, the terror; yet these, within my heart,
"The Return of The Birds," written in the early spring of 1864,, An in the sunshine r,-mn7 on quiet wood and lea,
when, as you know, the country was in great trouble, and the birds I stand and calmly w .1 1 1I.. hinges turn for me."


DEAR ST. NICuIOIAS: One of your little readers has found the
word "mutch" in one of my poems, and inquires its meaning, and
I wa rather surprised, on looking into the dictionaries, to discover
that it was not there. I have heard it used from childhood,-applied
to anything tied around the head in kerchief fashion. The word is
in use in old legends, and possibly comes from the French ozon/choir,
"handkerchief;" but some better T.. .: than myself must say
whether this suggestion is correct, i I how the word is used,
I can refer my questioner to the little story of "Gertrude's Bird,"
or the woodpecker, that is said to "fly about with a red much on her
head." The legend is in Dasent's Popular Tales from the Norse."
And I may say here that I am almost glad I made that mistake
about the white-throated sparrow, since -.;-.-in- a note from a lady
who writes from among the Berkshire ..11 I the sweet call of
this bird is constantly repeated. It is very pleasant to know that a
little girl out in that beautiful region honors me so much as to recite
my verse when she hears the fresh note of this charming songster, as
this lady tells me her little daughter does.
Surely the songs of our wild birds are farbetter than any songs that
can be made about them; but if these serve to remind us how delight-
fill the winged singers of the deep forests and lonely mountain-sides
are, they are perhaps worth while.-Truly your friend,
Lucy LARCOct.


Arlington Hotel, Cobourg, Canada, July 1o, 1878.
My D]EAR Sr. NICHOLAS: Do you remember the little boy who
traveled with you on the train last month from Meadvillc, Pa., to
Jamestown, N. Y., when you were returning from California, and
who promised to write you all about his visit to Niagara Falls? .I
have not forgotten my promise, but we have only just settled down
for the rest of the summer at Cobourg, Canada. Well, we reached
Niagara that ..;lhit ,; staid there two or three days, and I enjoyed
it so much. i i. I .1 n the American side is much smaller than the
Canadian, and I remembered what you told me about partof the rock
S i tway, so that now, instead of bihT.- Ii-ped like a horse-
I. .i a V. The old table rock .. away too. We
drove every day over Goat Island, the new Park, around all the
beautiful drives, and across the bridges. The best view is on the
Canadian side, just after you cross the bridge, and then you have a
grand view of all the falls at once. We drove out to Lundy's Lane,
and a man came out and invited us to go up Scott's Tower and see
the battle-field. Papa and mamma had been up some years ago, so
said they did not care to go again, as the stairs were hard to climb.
I said I would go, so the man took me up and showed me the battle-
field and the lakes through an opera-glass. When I got into the
carriage I thanked him for his kindness, and you may imagine my
surprise when he asked me for fifty cents: of course I had to give it








THE LETTER-BOX.


to him, but it was all I had. Papa and r .. ...-. 1..:1.. .11 the
way home, but papa ..--- m the half *J I .1 ... We
spent a week at St. .r....... Wells, visited Toronto, Belleville,
Napanee and Kingston, and went over on a lake steamer to spend
the Fourth of July at Oswego, such a pretty town in New York on
Lake Ontario. Cobourg is a pretty little town, too, right on the lake,
and the Arlington Hotel, where we are staying, is very nice, with
nice shade-trees and lawns. Do you know, dear ST. NICHOLAS, I
always thought of you as an old gray-bearded man, like the pictures
of Santa Claus; but now that I know you and have talked to you, I
shall enjoy ST. NICHOLAS more than ever.-Your friend and constant
reader, CALVEiT 'WILSON.

New York.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I thought I would tell you about some people
I heard of who like to talk to each other, and everything they say
begins with the same letter. How queer it must sound. I send you
a sentence: Sarah said she saw Susy sewing small shoes swiftly. I
wish some of your scholars would try it, and see who could send you
a sentence with the words beginning with Z.-I remain, your loving
MAUDD.

Albany, N. Y.
DrAIA ST. NICHOLAS: Perhaps some ofyour other boys, who, like
myself, wish to grow Hi -n -trr- -.. -n like to hear about the
largest human being i i.- i. Gath,-a person almost
large enough to need introduction by installments, but he is so well
known that the ceremony is needless.
As nearly as T can make out, he was between ten and eleven feet
high. When he went to battle he wore a coat-of-mail weighing one
hundred and fifty-six nounds,-as heavy as a good-sized mani; and
the rest of his armor amounted to at least one hundred and fifteen
pounds more. The head of his spear weighed eighteen pounds,-as
heavy as six three-pound cans of preserved fruit,-and this he carried
at the end of a long and heavy shaft !
Think what might happen if a man equally big and strong should
':. ..-^ ,--^- and insist on taking part in our games and sports !
.... I .I-club, a curious six-oared crew could be made up,
with him at one side and five other men opposite. And just imagine
him "booming along on a velocipede If he joined the champion
Nine, and hit a ball, where would that ball go to? If he called for a
"shoulder-high" ball, would i't the catcher have to climb a step-
ladder to catch behind the giant? And if he threw a ball to a base-
man, would n't he be apt to throw it clean through him?
Probably no one can answer these questions, but they are interest-
ing, all the same, to yours sincerely, R. V. D.

Lancaster, Pa.
IDEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Can you please tell me whether there are
fire-flies in England or not ? We have had several discussions, and I
would like so much to know.-Yours truly, AMY.

According to all accounts within our reach there are in England no
fire-flies like those of the United States. But there are glow-worms
there, and, sometimes, the male glow-worm (which has wings), has
been called a "fire-fly." It belongs to a branch (genus) 6f the family
Lamntyrid, which is also the family of its fire-fly cousins, but it is
not shaped quite like them, and bears a different scientific name.

Philadelphia, Pa.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have seen so many little stories written by
girls of my age, that I thought I would write also-about iron. It
is a very useful metal, without which we would be very much at a
loss. Without iron, we could not cook very well; we could not
build such houses as we do, because the nails are made of iron, and
some of the tools: nor could we have gas, for the gas is conveyed
through the different parts of the houses and city by iron pipes. Nor
could we have steam-boats, for the machinery which makes them move
is made of iron. The buckets which we have to carry water in have
iron hoops. The doors have iron locks. The ink with which we
write has iron in it. Last, but not least, we have iron in our blood,
enough to make a ten-penny nail.
I will tell you ofa trip we took to the lead mines. We were spend-
ing the summer of 1877 in Wythville, Virginia, and there became
acquainted with a family boarding in the same hotel as ourselves.
One day they invited us to go with them to see the mines; we had a
very long but pleasant ride, and ate our lunch on the .. : the
woods, then went on, and at last arrived at the mines. .. .... who
Was outside told us that he was "going to harness the ladies' sleeping
car;" the mouth of the cave was so low that a man ofordinary height
could hardly stand upright in it; when we started they hitched two
carts which were used to carry the ore outof the mine, and put a little
donkey to it; the man called the donkey Jenny; we had two or
three tallow candles which would not stay lighted; as we advanced
further, the water began to leak from the rocks, and the car ran off
track; but when we were inside the mine, we were more than re-
warded for what we had suffered. The men were working in
groups, each group having a lantern, and the lead itself shied ; a
few men went up a pair of stairs to nearly the top of the mine; but


all these beauties could not induce me to stay a minute longer than I
was obliged, and I can assure you we were all very thankful when
we arrived at the hotel, to find a nice supper and warm beds waiting
for us.-Your little friend, JOYCE.

Junction City, Kansas.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I like to read you very much, especially
"Under the Lilacs" and "Dab Kinzer." I live in Junction City,
and have a very pleasant home. We have a great many wild flowers
growing on the prairies. One of them is called the soap plant. Our
teacher says its name is "Yucca." It has long slim leaves with sharp
edges, and the flower grows on all sides of the stalk, which some-
times is four feet high: the flowers are white. Then we have a
sensitive rose. The rose looks like a round purple silk tassel. We
have lots more of odd flowers, which I will tell you about some other
time.-Yours truly, MARY KEYS.

Bunker Hill.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I read an article lately against nicknames
and spelling names with "ie," but I don't agree with it. I think
when people are grown up their real names look better, but at home,
among one's own friends, a pet name is pretty. I don't like to see a
nickname in a marriage or death notice, but I do like it for young
folks and in the family. They say it is a French fashion to spell
names "ie." Whether it is true or not I like it, for all wise people
say against it. I know I am only a little girl, and my opinion may
not be worth much, but I mean to stand up for it, whatever they say.
I suppose every one has a right to her own opinion, and if others
don't agree with me, they need n't; but I don't like them to call me
"silly" because I don't think as they do. I am willing they should
have their own opinions, but I want the same privilege, -isn't that
fair? I don't like such nicknames as "Tom" and "Bob," or
" Mollie" and "Sallie," but like such as Charlie" or "Hattie," and
I think they look prettier spelt so than they do spelt "Charley" or
"Hatty." If other people like them so, I am willing; but I want
the right to follow my own choice in the matter, whether others like
it or not. I think people have a right to spell their own names as
they please.-Your friend, ALLIE BERTRAIM.
P. S.-My parents think my name is too pretty to be used so often
as to get common, and so they callme Allie," and I like it. I don't
want any one but my friends who love me, and whom I love, to call
me "Alma."


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: May I tell you about a miniature fountain
my sister and myself made long ago? It was lovely when finished,
and fully repaid us for our labor.
We first chose a board, about four feet long, and two feet wide, on
the sides of which we nailed laths, to hold the earth we laid upon it,
after having bored two holes, one near the middle and the other close
in the comer. We then placed the board on a box, and set a barrel
near it on blocks that stood about a foot higher than the board.
Se now cut a gourd in two, and making holes through the centers,
fitted them over those in the board, the large one for the fountain-
basin, the small one for a little spring in the comer.
The next thing was to connect this with the barrel by pipes. For
this we used reeds, placing a small upright piece in the center of the
middle basin, and joining to this a larger reed which ran beneath the
board, and was let into the barrel near the bottom. The spring was
finished in the same manner, with this exception, that there was no
upright piece in the middle. We now searched the woods for moss,
bits of twigs, and even some tiny pine and cedar trees, which we
planted with other things in the earth banked upon the board. We
arranged a small rockery with vines trailing over it; we made paths
covered with sand; and laid out tiny dells, and hills and plains. We
lined the fountain-basin with shells and the "spring" with moss, and
made little water-courses for the overflow; and, after it was all com-
pleted, we filled the barrel with water; and, lo we had the prettiest
little garden imaginable, with a fountain spurting and plashing in the
center, and a pretty little mossy spring in the corner.
LILLIE F. FALES.

Sitapur, Oude, India.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The people here live in little mud huts
clustered together in rude villages. They worship grotesque idols,
wear very odd clothing, and eat strange food. Carpenters, and tailors,
and shoe-makers, use their toes almost as much and as well as they
use their fingers, and men do the sewing and a great deal of the
cooking. Little girls very, very seldom go to school, and are
betrothed when they are babies. Little boys do not play ball or such
--m- but they are very fond of flying the kite
S... are monkeys here by hundreds. They live in groves and
eat fruits. These are not monkeys which hang up by their tails at
night to go to sleep,-they live in the mountains,-but great big fel-
lows like plump dogs, only their fore-legs are short and their "feet"
are hands.
The other day I saw a fight between some monkeys and about a
hundred crows. The monkeys wounded one poor crow, and it
hopped about upon the ground unable to fly. Then the crows settled
around it and tried to carry it off; but they could not. The monkeys







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


charged down upon them, and then the crows charged the monkeys.
It was an exciting time. Seeing the crows were getting the worst of
the battle I came to their rescue, but the monkeys charged upon me.
and I had to run. At last, I carried off the poor crow, hoping to
cure it. but it died the same day. The other crows followed me
home, and made a most dismal noise, as if they could not trust me.
Here the squirrels are quite small and not at all wild. I saw a little
boy, the other day, walking along with a saucylittle squirrel perched
upon his shoulder.
In the schools in the villages here, the boys sit upon the ground,
write upon wooden slates, and study aloud. They have wonderful
memories and commit everything, though they do not understand
very much of it. It is much better to understand every lesson as we
go along, isn't it?
Nearly all the little boys in India wear only a long coat which
comes down to their knees. It is so very warm here for most of the
year that the very little folks go without any clothing at all.
There are 60,00o soldiers in India, sent from England. One of the
regiments is in Sitapur, where I live, and they have a brass band
which makes first-rate music. They also have bagpipes.
In India there are persons from almost every nation-Hindus,
Arabians, Chinese, Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, Frenchmen,
Americans. There are twenty-three languages native to India. A
great many Indians speak English, which is taught in all the schools,
as Greek or Latin or French is taught at home.
But, although this is a 7r^--i--t~-- hereis no place like America,
especially to Americans. I... .I. :,. for the boys and girls of
America J. E. S.

Nauvoo, Ill.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: IT ',. : about my sister Lu and
a strange pet she had: i Ii 1 as spent in a wild, new
country. I cannot remember that she was ever amused with dolls
and baby-houses. She made amends, however, by surrounding her-
self with kittens, dogs, fawns, ponies, squirrels, opossums, 'coons, and
various birds, which, in turn, she petted and loved.
She lived in the Red River country of Louisiana. The climate there
is so warm that out-door play may be had at any season.
The summer she was thirteen, with an older brother and other
friends, she went fishing on the lake, vuhose waters were dark and
still, studded here and there with cvpress-trees in close ranks. Heavy
timber filled the valley surrounding the lake
After catching a full supply of fish, some of which were cooked on


the spot, brother Ed., in wandering about, captured a young alligator,
and 1 .1) .. I.. .. 'as seated, saying: "I'vebrought
you: .. i -. .' i the little monster at once, and ii
was carried home, and turned loose in the creek below the house.
In a few days the alligator was quite at home. It would eat any-
thing which was brought to it, and soon learned to come to a call,
seeming more delighted with notice than with what there was to eat.
It whined and barked like a dog, and wagged its big tail when
pleased. It enjoyed being patted on the head, and would capei
around, the most awkward thing that ever attempted a frolic.
In a few months, the pet became so large and familiar as to he .
nuisance. He would track up sister Lu through the field and about
the garden, showing his scent to be true and keen. Often when Lu
was seated, perhaps, at her tatting, he would come to her feet and iec
as still as if carved out of stone, waiting for a little notice. He toon
grew to like eating the young goslings and chickens, and began to
climb the fence, and look longingly at the young pigs At last the
scaly, good-natured creature disappeared. He probably made his
way to a neighboring bayou, and was never seen again by any little
girl's eyes.
But Lu has never forgotten him, although probably he remembers
nothing now of the good times of his youth.-Yours truly,
G. M. K.

THE WVITCHERY OF ARCHErIIY. By Mfaurice Thompson. Pul-
lished by Charles Scribner's Sons.
Archery has become so popular, of late, that this book will be of
interest to all boys and girls, as well as grown people, who practice
shooting with bows and arrows. Mr. Thompson, the author, wrote
the articles on Archery in SCRIBNER'S MIONTHLY, which have excited
such an interest in bow-shooting, and he probably knows more about
the matter than any one else in the country.
There is much in the book about the various pleasures and -advan-
tages of archery, which are very many; but there are also a great
many plain and practical directions to those who are unaccustomed
to the use of a bow and arrows. The author tells the young archer
just what to do and how to do it, and, as no one should use a bow
who does not know how to use it properly, such directions are very
valuable, and should be carefully read and followed.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


CLASSICAL DOUlBLE ACROSTIC.


T'HE initials and finals, read downward, name two Latin poets.
r. To affirm. 2. A male character in Shakspeare. 3. To cry aloud.
4. One of the United States. 5. An order of architecture. 6. Small.
VERTI.
NAMES OF AUTHORS ENIGMATICALLY
EXPRESSED.
l. AN Italian river. 2. A prefix, and an enemy. 3. A berry, and
a spine. 4. A machine, and a small house. 5. The cat'll eat it.
6. What doves do, and an expression of contentment. 7. Bright
i:. that fly upward. 8. What should be done with a sister in the
.ii 9. What should be done to one's mother. zo. Half of a New
England city, and what is useless when dry. RUSTICUS.

ENIGM-IA.
1MY first is in boy, but not in lad;
My second in merry, but not in sad.
My third is in stripe, but not in streak;
My fourth is in proud, but not in meek.
My fifth is in little and also in tall;
My sixth in none, but not in all.
My whole a trusty guide is found
For animals men ride around. JANIE B. +

WHAT IS IT?
NAsiuE the thing described in the following paragraph:
Kingdom: Animal, vegetable, and mineral. Conducive to travel;
dreaded by all with whom it comes in contact ; an article of personal
adornment; when misplaced, causes terrible disasters; false; beaten,
hardened, and fire-tested ; of various colors: preferred when green
and flexible; constantly changed, and changing others; its use en-
joined by Scripture. M. s. R.


DARKER and darker still, the slow hours creeping,
Bring to myfirst the inexorable gloom;
Silent and soft, the tender skies are weeping
For all the beauty they no more illume.

Stay not, O wand'rer, by the hurrying river,
Nor in the whispering wood, nor where above
Raises the perilous crag. My second ever,
With added final, welcomes all who rove.

Wildly my tllird over the hill is flying,
Over the wide moor, and the wider sea,
Moaning as one whose latest hope, in dying,
Leaves an eternity of agony.

Listen oh listen to my -ioole, while filling
My shadowy first with ecstasy divine!
Listen i oh, listen would ye not be willing
Ever in gloom to dwell, and not repine,-
Ever to joy in such melodious gladness,-
Ever to sorrow in such rapturous sadness ?


INCOMPLETE SENTENCES.
IN each of the following sentences, fill up the blanks with suitable
words having the same sound but spelled differently and having
different meanings.
i. It is but to pay your to the conductor. 2. When the
- was over, he did to to his father. 3. The was
- to do her work well. 4. She that the of South Amer-
ica are exceedingly tall. 5. The enraged farmer his neighbor's
cow for eating his -. 6. Don't if the should hit you.
7. The of a knave is hot always as as his character. 8. He
- would but is awed into sincerity before this sacred -
GRACE G. C.


[SEPTEMBeLI.,


CHARADE.







767


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


PICTORIAL ANAGRAM PUZZLE.


4,5;1,4. ,4,1. 111. 3.

THE answer-a line from Young's "Night Thoughts "-contains six words.
Each numeral beneath the pictures represents a letter in that word of the line which is indicated by the numeral-- denoting that the
letter it designates belongs to the first word of the line, 4 to the fourth word, and so on.
Find a word, letters, or a letter, descriptive of each picture, and containing as many letters as there are numerals beneath the picture itself.
This is the first process. Then write down, some distance apart, the figures i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, to correspond with the words of the answer. Group
beneath figure I all the letters designated by the numeral i in the numbering beneath the pictures. You will thus have in a group all the
letters that spell the first word of the line, and these letters, when set in the right order, will spell the word itself. Follow the same process
of grouping and arranging, in making the remaining five words of the answer. Of course, the re-arrangement of the letters need not be
begun until all of them have been set apart in their proper groups. s. R.

THREE DIAMONDS. HIDDEN NAMES.
I.-r. A CONSONANT. 2. A kind of carriage. 3. A well-known FIND a girl's or a boy's name hidden in each of the following sen-
river of Italy. 4. A precious stone. 5. In circumnavigator. tences.
II.--. In inconspicuous. 2. A Turkish name. 3. A spice. 4. A i. Arthur likes my apples. 2. Herbert expected letters every night.
climbing plant. 5. In herbalist. 3. Alice rode to her uncle Robert's. 4. Mr. Allen bought eiTht imm-1
III.--. In iniquity. 2. A girl's name. 3. A country in Asia. 5 Hattie Arnold reached Rochester yesterday. 6. Eve. i I.. .
4. Purpose. 5. In Niagara. ALLIE. has eaten little. 7. Every rainy night Eva sews trimming. 8. Ellen's


RIDDLE.
A HEAD have I, though never do I think;
A mouth as well, but with it never drink.
A body, too, is mine, of giant growth and strength,
Combining with its force majestic length.
But, as to feet, of them I have not one,
Though I am never still, but always run.
Ne'er was I known to leave my lowly bed,
Or ope my mouth so that I night be fed E. s. s.

POSITIVES AND COMPARATIVES.
THE positive is found from the first definition given, and the com-
parative is made by adding the sound "cr" to the positive.
i. My positive is level, and my comparative is what one's true
friends never do. 2. My positive is an article of food, and my corn
parative is a tool.. My positive is coarse, and my comparative is a
trade. 4. My positive is a youth, and my comparative is an instru-
ment for climbing. 5. My positive is a preposition, and my com-
parative is to esteem. 6. My positive is a part of the body, and
my comparative is wrath. 7. My positive is an American poet, and
my comparative is part of the body. 8. vlMy positive is asn article of
food, and my comparative is something used in a part of Asia. 9. My
positive is a public place, and my comparative is a sufferer. G. s.


dog is terribly hurt. 9. Florence naes every day. TO. Softly the
evening light lingers around. xr. Even dull wits improve, nowadays.
r2. Generally, raisins are capital eating. 13. Fido ran after Ned's
kite. c. K.

EASY CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.
My first is in edict, but not in law;
My second's in chilly, but not in raw.
My third is in ice, but not in snow;
My fourth is in cut, but not in mow.
My fifth is in mild, but not in bland;
My sixth is in country, not in land.
My seventh is in silent, not in still;
My eighth is in slaughter, but not in kill.
My ninth is in learn, but not in teach;
My tenth is in sandy, but not in beach.
My wholheis the nae of a useful book,
As soon you'll see, if you'll closely look.
W. B. H.

DOUBLE WORD-SQUARE.
ACROSS: i. Departed. 2. Declare. 3. Look askance. 4. Ter-
minates. Down : I. High wind. 2. Part of a stove. 3. Want.
4. Mistakes. H. H. D.







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


REBUS.
A two-line quotation from a poem by Thomas Gray.


'~b1w,' -m.'i

-U-


CENTRAL SYNCOPATIONS.
i. SYNCOPATE an orifice, and leave a troublesome insect. 2. Synco-
pate to cut, and get a natu.- .. .. -. 1 1. .mber. 3. Syncopate
a wise saying, and get to ..p .. .. a small house, and
leave a fugitive named in ... i ...opate a crown of a
person of rank, and leave a musical instrument. A. B.


't; j/

4$;k








#f~( 7

'SilrIi


DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
THE initials form the name of a European sovereign. The finals
form the narhe of a great statesman.
T. Striking. 2. A vowel repeated. 3. A body of soldiers. 4. A
lofty building. 5. A musical drama. 6. Scarce. 7. A pastoral poem.
8. The surname of a celebrated Italian poet. DYCIE.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN AUGUST NUMBER.

DOUBLE ACRosTIC.-Primrose. i. PeaR. 2. RomeO. 3. Isth- VERY EASY HIDDEN FURNITURE.-I. Table. 2. Sofa. 3. Chair.
muS. 4. MacE. 4. Stool. 5. What-not. 6. Crib. 7. Cot. 8. Hat-rack. 9. Desk.
NUMERICAL ENIG.MA.--Allon ,.o. DOUBLE CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.--Iolmes, Lowell.
PICTORIAL TRANSPOSITION -. -.. en nugs; nutmegs. TRANSPOSITIONS.-x. Warned, warden, wander. 2. Red nag,
2. Ten tea-pots; potentates. gander, ranged, garden, danger. 3. No elms, Lemnos, lemons,
DIAMOND PUZZLE.-I. M. 2. JAy. 3. MaCaw. 4. YAk. 5. W. melons, solemn. 4. Red opal, pale rod, real pod, leopard.
SQUARE-WORD.--. Crane. 2. Raven. 3. Avert. 4. Nerve. PROVERB REBUS.-" One swallow does not make a summer."
5. Enter. CHARADE -Pondicherry; pond, I, cherry.
SHAKSPEAREAN REBUS.-" Hamlet," Act III., Scene i. HouR-GLAss PUzzLE.-Centrals, Arrow. i. ChAnt. 2. ORe.
"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; 3. R. 4. COg. 5. BoWer.
And thus the native hue of resolution CONTRACTIONS.--. Brown, brow. 2. Plane, plan. 3. Lathe, lath.
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." 4. Heath, heat. 5. Hazel, haze. 6. Plume, plum. 7. Crown, crow.
8. Lunge, lung. 9. Forty, fort.
GEOGRAPHICAL IOUBLE ACROSTIC.-z. Chili. 2. HellesponT. WORD-SYNCOPATIONs.-i. Leveret; ever, let. 2. Slashing; ash,
3. IndiA. 4. NepauL. 5. AlleghanY. sling. 3. Slashings; lash, sings. 4. Carpenter; pen, carter. 5. Car-
METAGRALM.-Dip, ip, lip, hip, uip, nip, pip, sip, tip. pets; pet, cars.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER were received, before July 18, from Bessie Hard, C. C. Bourne; Mamie H. S., and Louise
G. H.; Carl Hinkle, O. C. Turner, "Prebo," "La Gazza Ladra," "Cosy Club," Bertha E. Keferstein, Nellie M. Slade, "Duchess May,"
R. H. R.; Alice MacNary and Elliot MacNary; "Kelloke and Cary and Rose," Fred W. M., E. Farnham Todd, "Winnie," "Stock-
Broker and Doctor," "Dottie and Daisie; May and Charlie Pray; Laurie T. Sanders, May Chester, Hyacinth," H. P. B.; Frances
and l.t .. ., iagley; W. H. McGee, Charlie Kellogg, Nellie Kellogg, T. W. H., A. G. D., Nessie E. Stevens, "Romeo and Juliet,"
Belle I .., May Duffan, St. Nicholas Club," H. B. Ayers; Orada and Ibylsa;" William W.- ii..... i;iiian Williams, E. J. F.
A. C. S., George D. Mitchell, Arthur Bochm, Bessie Taylor, J. B. H., George C. Wedderburn, Will .... I John V. L. Pierson,
Henry Kummel. Virginia Simpson; F. M. J ,Jr.; Kitty Curtis, Mildred Meredith, Louisa F. Riedel; Bessie and Tic; X. Y. Z., Sarah
Duffield, Dycie Warden, Nettle A. Ives, Violet," R. T. French, Josie Hamilton, Alice M. Mason, Ellen Smith, Lillie D. Hacker, Mamie
Packer, Jennie A. Carr, Willie Sellie, Arnold Guyot Cameron, Grant Squires, Georgine C. Schnitzspahn, T. H. Loomis, Rachel Hutchins,
Mary G. Arnold, M. W. Collet, Laura Maude Benton, Willie Robinson, Fanny J. Schonacker; May and Louis Ogden; Arthur Stowe,
Nellie C. Graham, Mattie Olmsted, W. A. Wheek. 7 i Gemmill, Rufus B. Clark, Lewis G. Davis, Clare G. Hess; Ella and Kittie
Blanke; Nellie Quayle, Gertrude Weasondonk, I i .. I .. Addie S. Church, "My Maryland," Nellie L. Ninde, F. Popenhausen,
A. B. C., "Hard and Tough," Nellie Emerson, L. B. Bancroft, M. P., Wm. C. Ferguson, Alice Lanigan, Florence Van Rensselaer, Anna
E. .athewson, Josie Morris Brown, Charles N. ----11. "Fritters," "Bertha and Daisy," "Beech-Nut," Stephen Waterman, E. M.
Biddle, Jr., So So and his Cousin," Georgic B., I.. I. I Christian, George J. Fiske, Esther L. Fiske; Frank Alien and May; "Lena
Kate," Milly E. Adams, Eddie Vultee, Willie B. Deas, F. D., "Fannie," Grace E. Fuller, C. Speiden, M. Speiden, Austin M. Poole, Ada
L. Goodwin, Fred Huckel, Estelle Te-nnn" William Guillet, of Canada; "Brutus and Cassius," Kate Sampson, Edwin C. Garrigues,
"Bessie and her Cousin," "A. B. ,. I -_ Bessie Barnes, and Charles H. Stout.
Fanny Pop and Ernest B. Cooper answered correctly all the puzzles in the July number.


[SEPTEMBER.