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 Front Cover
 The violin village
 Troubles in high life
 A tale of many tails
 Under the lilacs
 Happy little froggy - How to keep...
 Simple Simon
 Prince Cucurbita
 Mrs. Primkins' surprise
 The Linnet's fee - Dab Kinzer:...
 Where?
 Parlor magic
 Un alphabet francais
 A fair exchange
 How Teddy cut the pie - "Chairs...
 Two kitties
 "Hare and hounds"
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


BLDN NEH CCLC ICDL UFSPEC



St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 12
ALL VOLUMES CITATION SEARCH THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00065
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 5, no. 12
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: UF00065513:00065

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    The violin village
        Plate
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
        Page 773
        Page 774
        Page 775
    Troubles in high life
        Page 776
    A tale of many tails
        Page 777
        Page 778
        Page 779
    Under the lilacs
        Page 780
        Page 781
        Page 782
        Page 783
        Page 784
        Page 785
        Page 786
        Page 787
        Page 788
    Happy little froggy - How to keep a journal
        Page 789
        Page 790
    Simple Simon
        Page 791
    Prince Cucurbita
        Page 792
        Page 793
    Mrs. Primkins' surprise
        Page 794
        Page 795
        Page 796
        Page 797
    The Linnet's fee - Dab Kinzer: A story of a growing boy
        Page 798
        Page 799
        Page 800
        Page 801
        Page 802
        Page 803
        Page 804
        Page 805
        Page 806
        Page 807
        Page 808
        Page 809
    Where?
        Page 810
    Parlor magic
        Page 811
        Page 812
        Page 813
        Page 814
        Page 815
    Un alphabet francais
        Page 816
        Page 817
        Page 818
        Page 819
    A fair exchange
        Page 820
    How Teddy cut the pie - "Chairs to mend!"
        Page 821
        Page 822
    Two kitties
        Page 823
    "Hare and hounds"
        Page 824
        Page 825
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 826
        Page 827
    The letter-box
        Page 828
        Page 829
    The riddle-box
        Page 830
        Page 831
        Page 832
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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THE NOON ENCAMPMENT.

[See Violin Village.]















ST. NICHOLAS.




OCTOBER, 1878.

[Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.]



THE VIOLIN VILLAGE.

\BY iITIH IAWKINS.


ON the borders of the Tyrol and the lovely district
known as the "Bavarian Highlands," there is a
quaint little ;11 .: called Mittenwald," which at
first sight appears shut in by lofty mountains as
by some great and insurmountable barrier. The
villagers are a simple. industrious people, chiefly
occupied in the manufacture of stringed musical
instruments, the drying of which, on fine days,
presents a very droll appearance. The gardens
seem to have blossomed out in the most eccen-
tric manner; for there, dangling from lines like
clothes, hang zithers, guitars, and violins, by hun-
dreds, from the big bass to the little "kit," and
the child's toy.
In this valley, one clear morning in August, as
the church clock struck five, a lad issued from the
arched entrance of one of the pretty gabled houses
along the main street. He was not more than
twelve years of age, yet an expression of thought-
fulness in his clear, blue eyes, gave and added an
older look to his otherwise boyish face. His cos-
tume was a gray suit of coarse cloth, trimmed with
green; his knees and feet were bare, but he wore
knitted leggings of green worsted. A high-crowned
hat of green felt, adorned with some glossy black
cock's feathers, a whip and a small brass horn slung
by a cord from his shoulder completed the outfit
of the ;ii .. goatherd. He hastened along by the
green-bordered brook crossed by planks, over one
of which Stephan-for that was our hero's name
-leaped as he came up to the simple wooden
fountain, which, as in most Bavarian villages, stood
in the middle of the road.
A piece of black bread and a long draught from
the fountain was Stephan's breakfast, which being
speedily finished, he broke the morning stillness
VOL. V.-5I.


with repeated blasts from the horn, which seemed
to awake the valley as by magic; for scarcely had
the more distant mountains echoed the summons,
than from almost every door-way scampered one or
more goats. All hurried in the direction of the
water-tank, where they stood on their hind legs to
drink, jostled one another or frisked about in the
highest spirits, till fully two hundred were assembled,
rendering the street impassable. A peculiar cry
from the boy and a sharp crack of the whip were
the signals for a general move. Away they skipped
helter-skelter through the town, along the accus-
tomed road, high up the rocky mountain-side.
The little animals were hungry, so stopped every
now and then to nibble the attractive grassy tufts,
long before the allotted feeding ground was reached.
There was, however, little fear of losing them, as
each wore a tiny bell round the neck, which, tink-
ling at every movement, warned the boy of the
straggler; a call invariably brought it back, though
often by a circuitous route, enabling the animal to
keep beyond the reach of the whip, which Stephan
lashed about with boyish enjoyment.
Noon found the goats encamped under the shade
of some tall pine-trees, and Stephan Reindel was
busily arranging a bunch of bright red cranberries
at the side of his hat, when a shot arrested his atten-
tion. He jumped up, and with boyish curiosity
explored the pine wood; but fearing to go too far
on account of his flock, he was returning, when a
second shot followed by a sharp cry, convinced him
it was some hunter who had driven his game much
lower down than was at all usual. The second
report had sounded so near that he continued his
fruitless search till it was time to go home, when,
as usual, he drove his flock back by five o'clock.


VOL. V.


No. 12.






THE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


Directly they entered the village, each goat trotted
off to its own abode, and Stephan to his, where,
after eating his supper of black bread and cheese,
he sat listlessly watching his mother varnish violins,
by which she earned a trifle every week. This was
due to the kindness of the chief manufacturer in the
village, who, since her husband's death, had sup-
plied her regularly with some of the light work
usually performed by women, and to which she was
well accustomed, having frequently assisted her hus-
band, who had been one of Herr Dahn's best work-
men, andwhose death had left her entirely dependent
on her own exertions for the support of herself and
child ; for the last two years, however, Stephan had
bravely earned his mite by taking daily care of the
goats belonging to the whole valley. He was now
discussing with his mother the possibility of his ever
being able to maintain them both by following his
father's trade of making guitars and violins, when
a loud knock put the future to flight, and caused
Stephan to open the door so suddenly that a very
excited oldwoman came tumbling into the room.
Oh Bridgetta, how could you lean against
the door? said Fraft Reindel, hastening to her
assistance. I hope you are not hurt, and do pray
remember, in future, that our door opens inside,
and that you must step down into the room. Sit
down, neighbor," she added, placing a stool for the
old woman, who was, however, far too angry to
notice it; but turning toward Stephan, whom she
unfortunately caught smiling, she pointed to her
large fur cap, that had rolled some distance across
the floor, saying: "Pick it up, boy, and don't
stand grinning like that, especially as you must
know why I have come here so late in the evening."
Then snatching it from him, without heeding his
apologies, she added: "Yes, indeed, you have
more cause to cry than laugh. A pretty herd-boy
you are, to come home without people's goats! sit-
ting here as contentedly as if you had done your
day's duty You had better be more careful or
you will certainly lose your work, if I have a voice
in the village !"
Stephan and his mother stood aghast at this
angry tirade, and it was only after repeated ques-
tions, sulkily answered, that they finally understood
that her own goat was really missing. She had, as
usual, gone into the stable to mill it, and after
waiting in vain till past seven o'clock, she had come
to tell Stephan he must at once seek for it among
the neighbors' goats. He was quite willing, nay,
anxious to do so, being unable to account in any'
way for its absence; for lie could not remember
having noticed the little gray goat with the white
face since the early part of the morning. There
was consequently nothing left to be done that night
but to make an immediate inquiry at every house


in the village. He did not return till past nine
o'clock,-a very late hour in that primitive spot,
where people usually rise at four or five and go to
bed at eight. No one had seen the goat, but almost
all blamed his carelessness, so that he was too un-
happy to sleep, especially as he could not forget
how distressed his poor mother looked, knowing,
as she did, that somehow or other she must pay
the value of the goat, though how such a sum was
to be earned was beyond guessing.
A week passed, nothing was heard of the
strayed one; Stephan had searched every possible
spot up the mountain, and inquired of every per-
son he met coming from the neighboring villages
or beyond the frontier of the Tyrol,-but all in vain.
A report had spread in the valley that he had lamed
the goat with a stone, and so caused it to fall over
a precipice. Many people believed this, which
greatly increased the unhappiness of Stephan and
his mother, though he had denied the charge most
positively.
"I, at least, believe you, my son," said his
mother, one day, when Bridgetta was present.
"You never told me a lie, and I thank God for my
truthful child, more than for all else."
You can believe what you like," said Bridgetta,
angrily; but, as your boy has lost my goat,
and as I am poor, and have already waited longer
than I can afford, I must ask you to pay me by
to-morrow evening, so that I may buy another,
for you forget that I have done without milk all
these days."
No, I do not forget," said the widow, sadly.
I will do my best to get the money for you. It
is right you should have your own, and you know
I would have paid you at once had it been in my
power. I will, however, see what I can do by to-
morrow, so good-night."
As they walked home, they discussed for the hun-
dredth time the impossibility of getting five florins;
they could not save that sum in six months.
There is nothing to be done unless Herr Dahn
would lend it to us," suggested Stephan. "We
could pay him by degrees, and he is so rich that I
dare say he would be satisfied with that."
I have il..:.. l, of asking him," replied the
mother, and, even if he refuses, he will do so
kindly."
As she spoke, they saw the important little gen-
tleman coming out of a house, and hastened to
overtake him. He greeted them with the extreme
politeness so noticeable among all classes in Bava-
ria, even in the remote villages. After hearing the
widow's request, he stood musing a minute, looked
up and down the street, took off his hat, and pol-
ished his bald head, ejaculating the usual So!
so then, as if a bright thought had cleared up all


OCTOBER,






THIE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


doubts, he said : Now, don't you think it would
be pleasanter and more independent if you gave
something in exchange for the five florins? Some-
thing that can be of no use to yourself-your hus-
band's tools, for instance ? I will give you a fair
price,-enough to pay for this unlucky goat, and
something over for a rainy day. But, my good
woman, what's the matter?" he added, seeing
tears in her eyes and Stephan eagerly clutching her
arm, as if to get her away.
Nothing, sir, nothing; you are quite right;
I had forgotten the tools would bring money;
but you must excuse me if I do not decide till to-
morrow, for my boy here has set his heart on
being a guitar and zither maker, like his poor
father, and always fancies he would work better
with those tools."
"What! Stephan make violins ? How is he ever
to do that, when he spends all his days up the
mountains? Have you not told me yourself that
you cannot manage without his earnings? "
Neither do I think we could, sir, or I should
have tried it long ago, for it is hard for him to be
minding goats, when he might be earning some-
thing to help him on in life."
"Can he do anything? Has he any taste for
the work ? "
"Yes, I think so; he generally works at it in
the evening, and has made several small violins for
Christmas gifts to the neighbors' children. But
they are toys. Perhaps you would allow me to
bring one to show you to-morrow," she ventured
to add.
SCertainly, neighbor, but I don't promise any-
thing, mind, except about the tools. I shall be at
the warehouse at six o'clock. Be punctual. Good-
evening."
0, mother Don't give him the tools. Give
him anything else. There 's my new green hat-
my best jacket-I can easily do with the one I have
on," said Stephan, anxiously, as he watched the
receding figure of the rich man of the village.
My dear child of what use could your clothes
be to the gentleman ? He wants the tools. I am
very sorry, but there is really nothing else of any
value, and we have no right to borrow money
when we can obtain it by the sacrifice of something
we should like to keep. We must never hesitate to
perform a plain duty, however disagreeable. So,
now show yourself a brave boy, and help me to do
this one cheerfully."
The next day, Stephan began his day's work with
a determination to look on the bright side of his
troubles. His goats, however, had in some wxay
become a greater charge than he had ever felt
them before. He feared to lose sight of one for an
instant; so, what with racing after the stragglers and


searching, as was now his habit, for the lost one, he
was so tired and worn out by noonday, that instead
of eating his dinner, he threw himself on the
ground and cried bitterly. The goats sniffed round
and round him, as if puzzled at the unwonted
sounds. He often sang and whistled as he sat
among them carving some rough semblance of
animals with his pocket-knife, but these unmusical
sounds were new to them and seemed to make them
uneasy. A sudden pause in the monotonous tinkle
of the little bells caused Stephan to raise his head,
and he encountered the amused gaze of two gentle-
men in the Bavarian hunting costume of coarse
gray cloth and green facings; thick boots studded
with huge nails and clamps to prevent slipping in the
dangerous ascent after game ; high-crowned hats,
with little tufts of chamois beard as decoration
and proof of former success; the younger of the
two having, in addition, a bunch of pink Alpen-
rose showing he must have climbed high up the
mountains.
What sort of music do you call that ?" asked
the latter, resting his gun-stock on the ground.
" If you howl in that way, there will be no use
hunting in your neighborhood for a month; you
would frighten the tamest game over the fron-
tier in five minutes. A little more of this music
and there wont be a chamois for miles round. But
what 's the matter? Have you had a fight with
your goats and got the worst of it ? How many
horns have been run through your body, and where
are the wounds ? "
Stephan had fancied that his goats were his only
auditors, so felt thoroughly ashamed of himself,
but jumping up, he answered with some spirit:
I have not any wounds, sir, and should never cry
if I had. I lost a goat some days ago and now my
mother has to pay for it by giving up the only
valuable thing she has in the world."
"That can't be yourself, then," said the young
man, laughing; for such a careless little chap
would not be of much value, I should think. But
tell us the story. When did you lose it ?"
After listening to Stephan's account, the hunters
spoke apart with each other for some minutes, and
then the young one took out his purse and gave
the astonished boy six florins-about ten English
shillings.
There, you can get a very good goat for that,
but remember, no more howling, and if you ever
find your own again, I shall expect you to repay
me this money."
"That I will, indeed, gentlemen, and I thank
you heartily." said the boy, so earnestly that both
laughed, as, nodding him an adieu, they began
descending the mountain, and were soon lost
among the trees.


18781.






TIE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


Stephan threw his hat into the air with a joyous
cheer, and the echoes repeated his gleeful shout.
The day appeared very long, and glad enough
he was when the sinking sun warned him that it
was time to return. He found his mother dusting
the tools, and looking sadder than he had ever seen
her since his father died.
"We wont sell them, dear mother," he cried
exultingly, dancing round the table and shaking
the florins in his hat. See what luck your
blessing brought me this morning!" and he re-
lated his adventure with the hunters.
They at once started off to pay Bridgetta the
five florins, and, as compensation for the loss of the
milk for so many days, they offered her the extra
florin, which she coldly and decidedly refused, ask-
ing no questions, and appearing very anxious to get
rid of them. As they walked home, they entered
the church for a few minutes, and, after reverently
kneeling at one of the side altars, the widow
dropped the remaining florin into the poor-box.
It was the largest thank-offering she had ever been
able to make in her life. The warehouse was at
the corner of the street on the south side of the
church, and as the clock struck six they hurried up
the stairs of the long, low building, and entered a
small room fitted up as an office. Herr Dahn was
busily writing in a large ledger, but quitting it as
they entered, he said approvingly:
"So here you are! That's right; business
people should be punctual-never get on otherwise!
But where are the tools ? "
The widow told him all about the six florins, and
then placing a toy violin on the counter, she asked
him to give his opinion of it. He twisted the little
instrument about, carefully examining the work-
manship while he talked, and finally declared that
it was a very fair specimen for a self-taught lad.
He evidently thought more of it than he chose to
say, for after some conversation with his foreman,
to whom he showed the violin, he greatly aston-
ished the poor woman by offering to take Stephan
at once and place him under one of his best work-
men if she could do without his earnings for a
time, as of course the goats must be given up.
Then, noticing the boy's delight and the mother's
anxious, undecided countenance, he added before
she could reply :
Perhaps, if Stephan is steady and careful
enough, I can trust him here alone every morning
to sweep and dust the warehouses, for which I will
pay him thirty kreutzers a week (nearly a shilling).
I suppose he gets little more than that for tending
the goats."
"Oh! thank you, sir," said the boy eagerly,
anticipating his mother's reply, I will, indeed, be
careful and steady."


Gently, boy, your mother is to decide."
I cannot thank you enough, sir," she quickly
answered. Your offer is more than we had ever
hoped for, and I trust my child's conduct will
prove how grateful we both feel. He would like to
begin at once, I know, but must, of course, wait a
few days till another boy is found to take his place
as herd-boy."
Herr Dahn nodded approvingly, and told them
to let him know as soon as a substitute was found.
How thankful they were that evening as they
talked over the happy termination of their troubles,
and still more so when a neighbor came in to tell
them that Bridgetta and some others of the village
had voted against Stephan continuing his post as
herd, alleging that they feared to trust him any
longer with their goats. This was, of course, very
unpleasant news, for it was a sort of disgrace to be
thus displaced, however undeserved. It also
explained the cause of Bridgetta's extreme coolness
and indifference as to how they had obtained the
money. No wonder she was unfriendly after her
action, which, but for the fresh turn affairs had
taken, would have seriously injured them.
However, Stephan was now free to begin his new
work the next day, when all arrangements were
made, and he was introduced as an apprentice to
his new master, Heinrich Brand.

PART II.

STEPHAN had been with the violin-maker about
six weeks, when one day the little Gretchen, his
master's daughter, rushed in to tell them the cows
were coming down from the Alp.
It is the custom in the Bavarian Tyrol to send
the cows to small pastures high up among the
mountains where the grass is green and plentiful,
being watered by the dews and mists, and less
exposed to the scorching sun. Here the cows
remain all the summer under the care of two or
three men, called "senner," or women, called
"sennerinnen," who are always busily engaged
making butter and cheese, and rarely come down
to the valley, even for a day, till the season is over,
when, collecting their tubs, milk-pans, and other
dairy utensils, they descend the mountain with
great rejoicings and consider the day a festival.
This return is an event of importance in every
village. Brand, like his neighbors, hastened out
with his little daughter, and told Stephan to follow
them. The gay procession wound slowly along the
main road, accompanied by a band of music play-
ing a cheerful Tyrolese air. The cows came troop-
ing along, decorated with garlands of wild flowers,
preceded by peasants in their gayest costumes,
carrying blue and white flags. The "sennerinnen"


[OCTOBER,






TIE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


wore their brightest neckerchiefs and gowns, and Well, Bridgetta, if you still think so badly of
seemed quite rejoiced to be down among their my boy, you can keep the money as a recompense
friends again, for the damage done to your goat, though I am
Stephan joined his mother in the crowd, and the) quite convinced he has had nothing to do with it.
were in the full enjoyment of the scene when he Some day we shall hear the truth of the whole
suddenly exclaimed: See, mother, there's the affair, and of that I make no doubt."
lost goat !" and sure enough there it was, limping I don't want your money," said the old woman,
along by the side of a sennerin." One leg was testily, "and shall return it as soon as I have sold
evidently broken or severely injured, but otherwise the other goat; "-whereupon, she took the leading-
the little animal looked well and fat. string from the "sennerin" and hobbled off with
Old Bridgetta had likewise seen it, and the three her new-found property, apparently as little pleased
hastened to question the sennerin," who seemed as possible.
very glad to find the owner, and told them it had The next day, the five florins were sent back, and


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been brought to the Alp by a peasant, who gave
her a florin to take care of it and bring it down to
the village as soon as she could. He did not tell
her where he had found it, or indeed any partic-
ulars, so she supposed the poor little thing had
fallen over some precipice and broken its leg, which
was, however, nearly well.
Goats don't often fall in that way,-stones are
much more likely to have caused the mischief," said
Bridgetta, with a meaning look at Stephan, which
was, however, only noticed by his mother, who
replied :


then Stephan told his mother, for the first time,
how he had promised to return the money if he
ever found the goat again. This now seemed im-
possible, for he knew neither the name nor address
of the gentleman. The money was, therefore, put
away safely, and the savings of a few months soon
made up the original sum of six florins, but still
nothing could be heard of the giver.
Time wore on, and the boy was rapidly becoming
an expert workman. He had regularly swept the
warehouse for three years, then finding he could
earn more by violin-making during the time so


i; i







THE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


occupied, he resigned in favor of a boy as poor as
he had been. Brand had pronounced him quite
worthy of regular work, having often tested his
ability by leaving to him the most difficult parts of
the instruments. He had made himself a zither,
and could play all those national airs so peculiarly
the property of the mountaineers, and which are
so suited to the plaintive sweetness of that instru-
ment.
Before Stephan was eighteen, his fame as a zither-
player had spread far and wide; no marriage, or
festival of any kind, was complete without his
well-looking, good-humored face.
One day, Stephan was putting away his tools
when he was sent for by a nobleman, who had
stopped overnight at the village, and he soon
came back with the news the Baron Liszt had
engaged him to act as guide to the Krotten Kopf
mountain the next day, and Brand was also wanted
to help to carry the wraps and needful provisions.
Early in the morning the party started. The
Baroness accompanied her husband, and there
were one or two gentlemen with their wives.
Stephan and Brand, laden with shawls, umbrellas
and knapsacks, then led the way with the slow,
steady pace always adopted by the mountaineers,
who know that speed avails nothing when great
heights have to be climbed, as it cannot possibly
be kept up, and only exhausts the strength at the
onset. After climbing two hours, a turn in a very
steep portion of the path brought them suddenly
upon a green plateau, walled in, as it were, by
mountain peaks, which looked of no particular
height till the ascent began. Though the sun
had scarcely set, yet, at such an elevation, the
air was more than chilly, and as the Baroness
put on a warm shawl she said, one could easily
account for the fresh looks of the "sennerinnen,"
who spend the intensely hot months in so cool
and healthful an atmosphere; for the Alps are
never scorched and dried up as elsewhere during the
summer. The Esterberg Alp, as it is called, con-
sists of two large tracts of rich meadow, green and
fresh as in our own fertile land, with a border of
underwood straggling some distance up the mount-
ain, and whence at midday issue the clear sounds
of the musical cow-bells, the only signs of life in
that wild, solitary spot.
They soon came in sight of a long low house,
one-half of which was devoted to the cows and the
hay. The earth around was trodden down and
bare; a few flowers grew against the house-wall,
and some milk-pans were ranged along it to dry.
The door was opened by a wild-looking man devoid
of shoes and coat; his long, shaggy hair looked as
if it had never experienced the kindly influence of
a comb or brush. He had evidently been roused


from a heavy sleep, but soon understanding that
they wished to spend the night in the hut, he told
them, in a most singular German dialect, that the
" oberschweizer," or chief, was away, but that he
alone could arrange all that was needful; for he was
accustomed to attend to the visitors who came there
in the warm weather.
The senner" prepared the meal, consisting of a
large bowl full of a dark chopped pancake called
" schmarren," often the only food of the cowherds
for weeks together.
The next consideration was a resting-place. They
had been warned that they would get nothing but
hay, so it was no surprise when the "senner" led
the ladies out to one side of the house, where,
mounting a short ladder, he placed his lantern in
the center of a large hay-loft, one side of which
was open to the free air of heaven, which blew in,
fresh and cool, as also it did from numerous chinks
in the roof, through which the clear moonbeams
shone, rendering the lantern a matter of form.
The man proceeded to arrange the hay in heaps,
so that each person could recline or sit, as most
conducive to rest. Only those accustomed (as,
indeed, most mountain climbers in Bavaria are) to
spending a night half-buried in hay, can sleep.
The hours of the night were spent by the ladies in
laughing at one anotherand discussing the absurdity
of spending a night ranged against the sides of a
hay-loft, with heads tied up in handkerchiefs, like
wounded soldiers in a hospital.
Meantime, the gentlemen sat outside enjoying
their cigars by moonlight, and relating their hunt-
ing adventures. Ah," said the Baron, after one
of the stories, "that reminds me of a northern
friend of mine who was staying with us some years
ago. He was very short-sighted, but passionately
fond of a hunt, so we made up several parties, at
which he appeared in spectacles, to the great
amusement of us all. He took our jokes in good
part, and enjoyed himself without doing any mis-
chief for a time. One unlucky day, however, I
missed our path, and had to descend the mountain
in search of some landmark from which to start
afresh. Suddenly, with the exclamation: Hush !
a chamois he leveled his rifle, and before I
could say one word he had shot-- a goat He
was too much vexed to laugh, so I had it all to
myself, and it was some minutes before I could
assist him to raise the little animal, whose leg was
broken. The flock was not far off, and the herd-
boy was evidently searching the wood, having heard
the shot. Now it never would have done to let
such an unsportsmanlike event get wind, so we
carried the goat to some distance, when, meeting a
peasant, we paid him to leave it at a hut on a
neighboring Alp, and request it should be taken


[OCTOBER,






TIE VIOLIN VILLAGE.


down to the valley at the first opportunity. I never
mentioned the subject to any one but my brother
Heinrich. Some time after, he was hunting in the
same locality, and came upon a lad who was crying,
with a regular mountain voice, for the loss of that
very goat, for which it seemed his mother had to
pay. I must confess, the consequence of kidnap-
ping the animal for a time had never struck me,
and I was therefore glad to know that my brother
had given the lad money enough to pay all dam-
ages. But come, it is time we tried our hay-berths,
for if we can't sleep we can rest."
Stephan, who had been eagerly listening, ex-
claimed: Oh, please sir, wait a moment. I was
that boy to whom the gentleman gave the money,
and he told me he should expect it returned if I
ever found the goat. Some time afterward I did
find it, and I have always carried the money sewn
into my coat-pocket in case I should meet the gen-
tleman again when I am away from home, but I
never did so; perhaps, sir, you will be kind enough
to give it to him," he added, beginning to unfasten
the little packet from the lining of his side-pocket.
Turning to Brand, the Baron asked if he knew
anything of this romantic goat story.
Yes, indeed, sir, and so does every one in the
village, for the boy got into trouble with the neigh-
bors, who all thought he had been throwing stones
at the animal, and they even turned him out of his
situation, but, as luck would have it, something
else was offered the same day, so that it did not
hurt him or his mother either."
"It was the best thing that ever happened to
me. I had always wished to make violins and
zithers, and owing to that accident I got my wish,"
said Stephan, in reply to the Baron's expressions
of regret.
SAs to the money," said the Baron, we will
make an exchange; you shall have my purse,
which contains about ten florins, and I will take
your little bag, just as it is, as a proof of Bavarian
honesty and honor. We shall see more of one
another," he added; meantime, don't forget
that we must be off by four in the morning.
Good-night! "
The moon still shone when the travelers com-
menced their mountain journey. Slowly they
wound their way round the ever-ascending path.
About half-way up they came to a small rocky plain,
where some young cattle were grazing. Their
alarmed wild movements proved how rarely human
bein gs passed their high-walled prison. From this
point their climbing became a real labor, but
before long they arrived at the summit, where,
amidst much laughter and want of breath, they
all threw themselves on the ground and gave
vent to their satisfaction at being nearly 7,000


feet above the sea, and to their admiration of the
glorious view.
But their stay on the summit was short, as they
wished to make the descent of the mountain in one
day. They did not reach Partenkirchen till nearly
midnight, nor Mittenwald till the following day,
where, of course, their adventures were related, and
Stephan's story was soon the talk of the village. He
became a perfect hero for the time, and many a
neighbor shook hands and hoped he would forgive
the doubt cast upon his word, although years had
since passed and the goat of contention had been
gathered to its fathers.
Some time after, a letter came to the Post Inn
for Stephan, causing much curiosity in the vil-
lage, as it was the first he had ever received. It
came from the Baron, who offered him an excellent
situation on his estate, under the forester, who,
being childless and old, would not only instruct
Stephan in his duties, but would soon leave the
management in a great measure to him ; moreover,
he himself might hope to succeed as Forester, if he
found the life suited to his taste. A week was given
him for consideration. He did not at all like the
idea of leaving his native place, to which he was
attached with that intensity of feeling said to be
peculiar to the mountaineers; but so good an offer
was not to be refused, especially as Herr Dahn and
Brand both approved of his going. So the letter
was written to tell the Baron he would come in
a few weeks, as requested. Meantime his old
master gave him an order for a zither of the best
quality, to be made of handsome wood, inlaid with
mother-of-pearl, and as the price was of no conse-
quence, he was to make it quite a specimen instru-
ment, to show how well he could work. Stephan
was very much pleased with the commission, and
when, at the end of three weeks, it was finished,
his delight was great when Herr Dahn pronounced
it One of the very best he had ever had in his
warehouse, and quite fit for the king." The day
came for Stephan's departure, but it was not a sad
one, as everything was arranged for him to return
in three months to fetch Gretchen, his old master's
daughter, who had promised to marry him, and
Stephan's mother was to live with them.
Stephan's letters were most satisfactory. He
liked the new life and the old Forester, and was
sure Gretchen would admire the pretty houses, the
large balcony, along the rails of which he was
growing some of the beautiful dark carnations she
was so fond of, and he knew she would rejoice to
see the glowing mountain-peaks rising from the
dark pine woods at sunset.
The wedding-day arrived at last, and in the
course of the second evening,-for the festivities
lasted two days,-some strangers staying in the






TROUBLES IN HIGH LIFE.


village came up to see the dancing, which took
place in a very large room in the inn. Among
them was the Baron Liszt, who, after dancing the
last waltz with Gretchen, requested the visitors
would remain a few minutes, as he had something
to show them.
A box was then brought in by the hostess,
dressed in her best costume and fur cap. She
placed it with much solemnity before the Baron,
who lifted the lid, took out the beautiful zither


TROUBLES IN

BY MRS. J. G.


SD a child no me,
/- l.' .
n r + .r''. '. --,.--



.. '





-'~'-,j ^ .,





Two miniature mothers at play on the floor
Their wearisome cares were debating,
How Dora and Arabelle, children no more,
Were twice as much trouble as ever before,
And the causes each had her own cares to deplore
Were, really, well worth my relating.


that Stephan had made with such care, and hand-
ing it to the pretty, blushing Gretchen, he said he
could offer her nothing better as a wedding gift
than this specimen of her husband's talent, which
he hoped she would always keep and use as a token
of his respect and admiration for Bavarian honesty
and truth. Then, shaking hands with them both,
he took leave amidst loud acclamations and waving
of hats; and so ended the wedding of Stephan
and Gretchen.


HIGH LIFE.

BURNETT.


7/


i I


I il --- r '



Said one little mother: You really don't know
What a burden my life is with Bella!
Her stravagant habits I hope she '11 outgrow.
She buys her kid gloves by the dozen, you know,
Sits for cares de visits every fortnight or so,
And don't do a thing that I tell her!"


[OCTOBER,


I I -






A TALE OF M


Those stylish young ladies (the dollies, you know)
Had complexions soft, pearly and waxen,
With arms, neck and forehead, as white as the
snow,
Golden hair sweeping down to the waist and below,
Eyes blue as the sky, cheeks with youth's ruddy
glow,-
Of a beauty pure Grecian and Saxon.

" Indeed said the other, that's sad to be sure;
But, ah," with a sigh, no one guesses
The cares and anxieties mothers endure.
For though Dora appears so sedate and demure,
She spends all the money that I can secure
On her cloaks and her bonnets and dresses."


[ANY TAILS. 777


Then followed such prattle of fashion and style,
I smiled as I listened and wondered,
And I thought, had I tried to repeat it erewhile,
How these fair little Israelites, without guile,
Would mock at my lack of their knowledge, and
smile
At the way I had stumbled and blundered.

And I thought, too, when each youthful mother
had conned
Her startling and touching narration,
Of the dolls of which I in my childhood was fond,
How with Dora and Arabelle they'd correspond,
And how far dolls and children to-day are beyond
Those we had in the last generation !


A TALE OF MANY TAILS.

BY KATHARINE B. FOOT.


CARRY stood in the door-way with her dolly on
one arm and her kitten hanging over the other.
Kitty did n't look comfortable, but she bore up
bravely, only once in a while giving a plaintive
mew. Carry gazed into the bright white sunshine.
It's melting hot," she said. I guess, grand-
ma, I'll take my doll and Friskarina out to the
wash-house and have a party."
Well," said grandma, looking over her specta-
cles, I've no objection; only there's a black
cloud coming up, and you may get caught out
there in a thunder storm."
If I do, can Jake come for me with an um-
brella, and can I take off my shoes and stockings
and come home barefoot ? "
Yes; I don't believe it would hurt you."
Then I'll go; and Carry picked up a box with
a little tea-set in it, and started off, saying: "Do
you believe it 'll rain cats and dogs and pitchforks,
grandma? That's what Jake says."
No, my dear. You 'd better ask him if he
ever saw such a rain."
So I will," and away went Carry through the
sunshine. And she said to herself: Would n't it
be funny if it did rain so ? I guess grandma would
n't like it much if cats rained down, 'cause she says
five cats are too many now."
The tea-party on an old chair without a back
wasn't much of an affair, after all; for, although
the doll-Miss Rose de Lormic-was propped up
against a starch-box more than half a dozen times,
she would keep on sliding feet first until she came
down flat on her back and thumped her head.


The kitten went to sleep in the corner just as soon
as Carry put her down.
Oh, dear!" sighed the little girl. It's so lonely
with cats and dolls and things that can't talk! "
And then she sat down in a corner by the old wash-
boiler, where she could see out of the open door,
and took Kitty into her lap.
The great fluffy clouds banked up higher and
higher, and from being white and dazzling they
began to grow black at the edges; and the black
masses rolled up and up, until the sun was all hid-
den and the sky was dark. Then came the rain,
gently at first, in drops far apart, but soon it fell
faster and faster, and the little leaves on the cur-
rant-bushes jumped up and down and seemed to
enjoy the shower-bath. To Carry's great delight,
little streams began to creep over the path, now in
separate little trickles, and presently with sudden
little darts into one another, as they came to un-
even places in the walk. She watched it all with
great wide eyes, and felt quiet and cool just to smell
the damp earth.
But soon the drops grew bigger, and all at once
they were n't drops of rain at all!
"Good gracious! cried Carry. Kittens,-little
blind kittens It '11 rain dogs next, I suppose "
That's exactly what did happen; for down came
puppies along with the kittens. They squirmed and
mewed and hissed and yelped, and all the time
kept growing bigger and bigger. Some came head
first pawing the air as they fell; some tail first,
looking scared to death ; but most miserable of all
were those that came down tumbling over and over.







A TALE OF MANY TAILS.


It made them so dizzy to come down in that whirli-
gig fashion, that they staggered about when they
tried to stand. Carry felt truly sorry for them, and
yet she could n't help laughing. And the cats and
dogs who had come first laughed too.
"Dear me! That's sort of funny, is n't it?"
she thought; but the surprise did n't last long,
for, in the midst of a tremendous shower, down
came two most remarkable figures, and, with them,
what at first sight appeared to be several long
sticks; but, on looking again, Carry saw these
were pitchforks !
: Oh said she, I thought they'd come."
Then she stared for a minute at the two odd
figures, and cried: "Why! it's Mother Hub-
bard's dog and Puss in Boots And sure enough,
so it was!
Puss had a blue velvet cloak on his shoulders,
large boots, and a velvet cap with a long plume.
He turned toward Carry and made her a low bow,
gracefully doffing his hat.
You are right, Mademoiselle," said he. I am
that renowned personage, and your humble ser-
vant. Permit me to add, Mademoiselle, that my
eyes have not beheld a fairer damsel than they now
rest upon, since last I saw my beloved mistress, the
charming Marquise de Carabas."
Mother Hubbard's dog was dressed in a suit of
fine old-fashioned clothes, and held tightly between
his teeth a very short stemmed pipe from which
he puffed great clouds of smoke.
He came up beside Puss, and said, without re-
moving his pipe: "Stuff and nonsense We don't
talk so stupidly in our village. Don't waste your
time in silly yarns, but let 's settle this fight at once."
Puss turned away and, addressing Carry, said:
Mademoiselle, this plebeian does not under-
stand the language of court circles, to which I have
been used for many years. Mademoiselle will par-
don his ignorance." And here Puss rolled up his
eyes and placed his hand upon his heart and bowed
so low that he was actually standing on his head
before he had finished. But he turned a graceful
somersault and came right side up again in half a
second, without looking at all disturbed.
Sir said the dog, with dignity, this matter
should be settled at once, or the sun will be out,
and then-- he stopped short and winked at
Puss in a very knowing manner.
Ah that is true," replied the cat, I had for-
gotten. Shall it be a general or a single combat?
Well," said the dog, gravely, sitting down on a
large flower-pot near by, I think, as we have been
wanting to fight this out for some time,-indeed, I
may say, almost since time began,-we had better
allow every one to have a tooth and a claw in it.
Then, perhaps, this matter will be settled forever."


SOQuite my opinion," responded Puss. But
first the ladies, infants, and weak and wounded,
must be removed from the field."
"All right said the dog. Butlook here. You
first stop that, will you ?" and he pointed to a fine
gray cat that was rubbing herself against a large,
comfortable-looking Newfoundland.
Immediately," said Puss, and he bawled in a
loud voice: There is to be no friendly intercourse
between soldiers of the two armies. It is in the high-
est degree detrimental to military discipline."
And the dog shouted: "Stop being pleasant
to each other, right off. I can't have it. You
always have fought, and you've got to fight now."
The big Newfoundland at once made a snap at
the gray cat, and she put up her back, spit and
clawed at him, and ran off as fast as she could.
Then Puss waved his handkerchief, as a flag of
truce, and said in a loud voice, There will be a
cessation of hostilities for five minutes, until the
non-combatants are removed."
The able-bodied cats arranged themselves in
rows, and the dogs did the same. The two gener-
als stepped grandly in front of the lines, and the
battle seemed about to begin, when a young and
frisky cat, at the far end of the front rank, took
advantage of a dog opposite who had turned his
head, and jumped upon his back, clawing him in so
cruel a way that he howled dreadfully.

At this, Mother Hubbard's dog advanced angrily,
and taking the cat by the nape of the neck, threw
her among the cat army, saying: The trumpet
has n't sounded, and we have n't begun yet. That
was a real sneaky trick, just like a cat."
Sir cried Puss in Boots, loftily, Do you
mean to insinuate that I am a sneak?"
I did n't say so precisely," returned the dog.
But if you want me to, I will." Then he added,
in a taunting tone, You are a sneak "
Puss trembled with rage at this insult, and drew
the little sword he wore at his side.
Prove it he cried, brandishing his blade.
Did n't you sneak yourself and your master into
a castle and fine clothes that you had no right to ?"
"Did n't you pretend to be dead once and
frighten your poor mistress nearly out of her wits ?
Take that, sir and he made a furious cut at
him.
But the dog dodged the weapon, and, with a cut-
lass suddenly pulled from behind him, made a
fierce blow at the cat. Puss leaped nimbly away,
with a scream of triumph and defiance. Then they
set to with all their skill and hate and cunning.
Presently Puss fell, apparently dead, and Sir John
Hubbard, the victor, was leaning on his cutlass,
looking sorry, when suddenly Puss jumped up,
grasped his sword and made a savage lunge at the


[OCTOBER,






A TALE OF MANY TAILS.


dog. That was only one of my lives!" he '6r A8 *t ,
screamed. "I have eight left. Cats have nine r11
lives, but you-you miserable dog-have only one." 4 ,
Then they fought worse than ever, and neither --i "
seemed i;i:_ to yield. .
But the fight ended in a strange way. Just as '
the dog again laid Puss low, a tremendous shower ,'

















Sof pitchforks fell, beating on
t everythingg with dreadful effect.-
under a tree, but poor Puss could










Tn't move to a shelter, and his
Remaining seven lives were being
rapidly knocked out of him, when




the brave dog rushed out into the
storm and proved himself a gen-
"erous foe by shielding Puss from


..ed you the best!" But even as
0. 1. a terrific clap of thunder, and her
.. "_- o-: l)fing with fear, sprang to her shoul-
i e av as Carry shrieked with fright
Sr Join saved himself by getting
but oo Pu cud








t here all alonove to a saihelter, and his






S.' don't mining seven lives were being
.-..1 when therapdly fighknocked out of him, where are
-.- *s the brave dog rshed out into the

t. sform Jake's shoulder, and himself a gen-
.. erouat was foe b shielding Puss fa do, but
..e pitchforks with his own body.







U .,,.C. 1 .I ..... d you the bestl!" But even as
A.-1 ) : u aint the ost curious little gal
,,. .,,: terrific curlap of as thunder, and people







t I.. _.. 1, hbe sawg with her own eyes. ho
.j i..... r 'e and sCarry shrieked with fright


I I : ..u 'd mind the rain; hut xhen the
S '"i... ,,. ..... .lon't mind rain. Jake ; 'h ut I don't
,i,. i...I ,. I',.. from Joke's shoulder, and looked

.I .. i ....-at was to be seen nor a dog, but
I" I ..i' *""''-' straight doxxn.


.., ,, I .i. maint the most c"rious little gal !
.,,. ,,, .., : .I. is half as curious as other people
I.. ',* she saxw with he oxwn eyes.







UNDER THE LILACS.


'


-It
** '
'rr :.- *1
,% r < .. ; -


.1*.; -,


/f
<0


WE LEFT.


UNDER THE LILACS.

By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


CHAPTER XXIII.

SOMEBODY COMES.

BAB and Betty had been playing in the avenue
all the afternoon, several weeks later, but as the
shadows began to lengthen both agreed to sit upon
the gate and rest while waiting for Ben, who had
gone nutting with a party of boys. When they
played house, Bab was always the father, and went
hunting or fishing with great energy and success,
bringing home all sorts of game, from elephants
and crocodiles to humming-birds and minnows.
Betty was the mother, and a most notable little
housewife, always mixing up imaginary delicacies
with sand and dirt in old pans and broken china,
which she baked in an oven of her own con-
struction.
Both had worked hard that day, and were glad
to retire to their favorite lounging-place, where
Bab was happy trying to walk across the wide top
bar without falling off, and Betty enjoyed slow,
luxurious swings while her sister was recovering


from her tumbles. On this occasion, having in-
dulged their respective tastes, they paused for a
brief interval of conversation, sitting side by side on
the gate like a pair of plump gray chickens gone
to roost.
"Don't you hope Ben will get his bag full? We
shall have such fun eating nuts evenings," observed
Bab, wrapping her arms in her apron, for it was
October now, and the air was growing keen.
Yes, and Ma says we may boil some in our lit-
tle kettles. Ben promised we should have half,"
answered Betty, still intent on her cookery.
I shall save some of mine for Thorny."
I shall keep lots of mine for Miss Celia."
Does n't it seem more than two weeks since she
went away ?"
I wonder what she '11 bring us."
Before Bab could conjecture, the sound of a step
and a familiar whistle made both look expectantly
toward the turn in the road, all ready to cry out with
one voice, How many have you got?" Neither
spoke a word, however, for the figure which pres-


WE CA.ME,-\WE SAW.


[OCTOBER,


;
,;






UNDER THE LILACS.


ently appeared was not Ben, but a stranger,-a
man who stopped- il;., and came slowly on,
dusting his shoes in the way-side grass, and brush-
ing the sleeves of his shabby velveteen coat as if
anxious to freshen himself up a bit.
It's a tramp, let's run away," whispered Betty,
after a hasty look.
I aint afraid," and Bab was about to assume
her boldest look when a sneeze spoiled it, and made
her clutch the gate to hold on.
At that unexpected sound the man looked up,
showing a thin, dark face, with a pair of sharp,
black eyes, which surveyed the little girls so steadily
that Betty quaked, and Bab began to wish she had
at least jumped down inside the gate.
"How are you ?" said the man with a good-
natured nod and smile, as if to re-assure the round-
eyed children staring at him.
Pretty well, thank you, sir," responded Bab,
politely nodding back at him.
Folks at home ? asked the man, looking over
their heads toward the house.
Only Ma; all the rest are gone to be married."
That sounds lively. At the other place all the
folks had gone to a funeral," and the man laughed
as he glanced at the big house on the hill.
Why, do you know the Squire?" exclaimed
Bab, much surprised and re-assured.
Come on purpose to see him. Just strolling
round till he gets back," with an impatient sort of
sigh.
Betty thought you was a tramp, but I was n't
afraid. I like tramps ever since Ben came," ex-
plained Bab, with her usual candor.
Who 's Ben ? and the man came nearer so
quickly that Betty nearly fell backward. Don't
you be scared, Sissy. I like little girls, so you set
easy and tell me about Ben," he added, in a per-
suasive tone, as he leaned on the gate, so near that
both could see what a friendly face he had in spite
of its eager, anxious look.
Ben is Miss Celia's boy. We found him
almost starved in the coach-house, and he 's
been living near here ever since," answered Bab,
comprehensively.
"Tell me all about it. I like tramps too," and
the man looked as if he did, very much, as Bab told
the little story in a few childish words that were
better than a much more elegant account.
You were very good to the little feller," was all
the man said when she ended her somewhat con-
fused tale, in which she had jumbled the old coach
and Miss Celia, dinner-pails and nutting, Sancho
and circuses.
Course we were He 's a nice boy and we are
fond of him, and he likes us," said Bab, heartily.
'Specially me," put in Betty, quite at case now,


for the black eyes had softened wonderfully, and the
brown face was smiling all over.
Don't wonder a mite. You are the nicest pair
of little girls I've seen this long time," and the man
put a hand on either side of them, as if he wanted
to hug the chubby children. But he did n't do it;
he merely rubbed his hands and stood there asking
questions till the two chatter-boxes had told him
everything there was to tell, in the most confiding
manner, for he very soon ceased to seem like a
stranger, and looked so familiar that Bab, growing
inquisitive in her turn, suddenly said:
Have n't you ever been here before ? It seems
as if I'd seen you."
Never in my life. Guess you 've seen some-
body that looks like me," and the black eyes twink-
led for a minute as they looked into the puzzled
little faces before him. Then he said, soberly:
I 'm looking round for a likely boy; don't you
think this Ben would suit me ? I want just such a
lively sort of chap."
Are you a circus man?" asked Bab, quickly.
Well, no, not now. I'm in better business."
I 'm glad of it--e don't approve of 'em; but
I do think they 're splendid "
Bab began by gravely quoting Miss Celia, and
ended with an irrepressible burst of admiration
which contrasted drolly with her first remark.
Betty added anxiously, "We can't let Ben go,
any way. I know he would n't want to, and Miss
Celia would feel bad. Please don't ask him."
He can do as he likes, I suppose. He has n't
got any folks of his own, has he ? "
No, his father died in California, and Ben felt
so bad he cried, and we were real sorry, and gave
him a piece of Ma, 'cause he was so lonesome,"
answered Betty, in her tender little voice, with a
pleading look which made the man stroke her
smooth cheek and say, quite softly:
Bless your heart for that I wont take him
away, child, or do a thing to trouble anybody that 's
been good to him."
He's coming now. I hear Sanch barking at
the squirrels!" cried Bab, standing up to get a
good look down the road.
The man turned quickly, and Betty saw that he
breathed fast as he watched the spot where the low
sunshine lay warmly on the red maple at the corner.
Into this glow came unconscious Ben, whistling
"Rory O'Moore," loud and clear, as he trudged
along with a heavy bag of nuts over his shoulder
and the light full on his contented face. Sancho
trotted before and saw the stranger first, for the
sun in Ben's eyes dazzled him. Since his sad loss
Sancho cherished a strong dislike to tramps, and
now he paused to growl and show his teeth, evi-
dently intending to warn this one off the premises.






[OCTOBER,


UNDER THE LILACS.


He wont hurt you-- began Bab, encour-
agingly; but before she could add a chiding word
to the dog, Sanch gave an excited howl, and flew
at the man's throat as if about to throttle him.
Betty screamed, and Bab was about to go to the
rescue when both perceived that the dog was lick-
ing the stranger's face in an ecstasy of joy, and
heard the man say as he hugged the curly beast:
Good old Sanch I knew he would n't forget
master, and he does n't."
"What's the matter?" called Ben, coming up
briskly, with a strong grip of his stout stick.
There was no need of any answer, for, as he
came into the shadow, he saw the man, and stood
looking at him as if he were a ghost.
"It 's father, Benny; don't you know me?"
asked the man, with an odd sort of choke in his
voice as he thrust the dog away, and held out
both hands to the boy.
Down dropped the nuts, and crying, "Oh,
Daddy, Daddy !" Ben cast himself into the arms
of the shabby velveteen coat, while poor Sanch
tore round them in distracted circles, barking wildly,
as if that was the only way in which he could vent
his rapture.
What happened next, Bab and Betty never
stopped to see, but, dropping from their roost,
they went flying home like startled Chicken Littles
with the astounding news that Ben's father has
come alive, and Sancho knew him right away!"
Mrs. Moss had just got her cleaning done up,
and was resting a minute before setting the table,
but she flew out of her old rocking-chair when the
excited children told the wonderful tale, exclaiming
as they ended:
Where is he ? Go bring him here. I declare
it fairly takes my breath away !"
Before Bab could obey, or her mother compose
herself, Sancho bounced in and spun round like an
insane top, trying to stand on his head, walk up-
right, waltz and bark all at once, for the good old
fellow had so lost his head that he forgot the loss
of his tail.
"They are coming they are coming! See,
Ma, what a nice man he is," said Bab, hopping
about on one foot as she watched the slowly ap-
proaching pair.
My patience, don't they look alike I should
know he was Ben's Pa anywhere !" said Mrs. Moss,
running to the door in a hurry.
They certainly did resemble one another, and it
was almost comical to see the same curve in the
legs, the same wide-awake style of wearing the hat,
the same sparkle of the eye, good-natured smile
and agile motion of every limb. Old Ben carried
the bag in one hand while young Ben held the
other fast, looking a little shame-faced at his own


emotion now, for there were marks of tears on his
cheeks, but too glad to repress the delight he felt
that he had really found Daddy this side heaven.
Mrs. Moss unconsciously made a pretty little pict-
ure of herself as she stood at the door with her
honest face shining and both hands out, saying in
a hearty tone, which was a welcome in itself:
"I'm real glad to see you safe and well, Mr.
Brown Come right in and make yourself to home.
I guess there is n't a happier boy living than Ben is
to-night."
And I know there is n't a gratefuler man liv-
ing than I am for your kindness to my poor for-
saken little feller," answered Mr. Brown, dropping
both his burdens to give the comely woman's hands
a hard shake.
Now don't say a word about it, but sit
down and rest, and we 'll have tea in less 'n no
time. Ben must be tired and hungry, though he 's
so happy I don't believe he knows it," laughed
Mrs. Moss, bustling away to hide the tears in her
eyes, anxious to make things sociable and easy all
round.
With this end in view she set forth her best china,
and covered the table with food enough for a dozen,
thanking her stars that it was baking day, and
everything had turned out well. Ben and his father
sat talking by the window till they were bidden to
draw up and help themselves with such hospi-
table warmth that everything had an extra relish
to the hungry pair.
Ben paused occasionally to stroke the rusty coat-
sleeve with brcad-and-buttery fingers to convince
himself that Daddy" had really come, and his
father disposed of various inconvenient emotions by
eating as if food was unknown in California. Mrs.
Moss beamed on every one from behind the big
tea-pot like a mild full moon, while Bab and Betty
kept interrupting one another in their eagerness to
tell something new about Ben and how Sanch lost
his tail.
Now you let Mr. Brown talk a little; we all
want to hear how he came alive,' as you call it,"
said Mrs. Moss, as they drew round the fire in the
"settin'-room," leaving the tea-things to take care
of themselves.
It was not a long story, but a very interesting one
to this circle of listeners: all about the wild life on
the plains, trading for mustangs, the terrible blow
that nearly killed Ben, senior, the long months of
unconsciousness in the California hospital, the slow
recovery, the journey back, Mr. Smithers's tale of
the boy's disappearance, and then the anxious trip
to find out from Squire Allen where he now was.
I asked the hospital folks to write and tell you
as soon as I knew whether I was on my head or my
heels, and they promised; but they did n't; so I






UNDER THE LILACS.


came off the minute I could, and worked my way
back, expecting to find you at the old place. I
was afraid you 'd have worn out your welcome here
and gone off again, for you are as fond of traveling
as your father."
I wanted to, sometimes, but the folks here were
so dreadful good to me I couldn't," confessed Ben,
secretly surprised to find that the prospect of going
off with Daddy even cost him a pang of regret, for



i- -
---- =-~.





.




-. ,
4.;'_U .1 '. l


..-. - -, .- -
,* '


MRS. MOSS WELCOMES BEN S FATHER.

the boy had taken root in the friendly soil, and was
no longer a wandering thistle-down, tossed about
by every wind that blew.
I know what I owe 'cm, and you and me will
work out that debt before we die, or our name is n't
B. B.," said Mr. Brown, with an emphatic slap on
his knee, which Ben imitated half unconsciously as
he exclaimed heartily:
That's so /" adding, more quietly, "' What are
you going to do now? Go back to Smithcrs and
the old work?"
Not likely, after the way le treated you, Sonny.
I 've had it out with him, and lie wont want to see
me again in a hurry," answered Mr. Brown, with a
sudden kindling of the eye that reminded Bab of
Ben's face when he shook her after losing Sancho.
"There's more circuses than his in the world;
but I '11 have to limber out ever so much before I 'in
good for much in that line," said the boy, stretch-


ing his stout arms and legs with a curious mixture
of satisfaction and regret.
You 've been living in clover and got fat, you
rascal," and his father gave him a poke here and
there, as Mr. Squeers did the plump Wackford,
when displaying him as a specimen of the fine diet
at Do-the-boys Hall. Don't believe I could put
you up now if I tried, for I have n't got my strength
back yet, and we are both out of practice. It's
just as well, for I 've about made up my mind to
quit the business and settle down somewhere for a
spell, if I can get anything to do," continued the
rider, folding his arms and gazing thoughtfully into
the fire.
I should n't wonder a mite if you could right
here, for Mr. Towne has a great boarding-stable
over yonder, and he's always wanting men," said
Mrs. Moss, eagerly, for she dreaded to have Ben
go, and no one could forbid it if his father chose to
take him away.
That sounds likely. Thanky, ma'am. I '11
look up the concern and try my chance. Would
you call it too great a come-down to have father an
'ostler after being first rider in the Great Golden
Menagerie, Circus, and Colosseum,' hey Ben?"
asked Mr. Brown, quoting the well-remembered
show-bill with a laugh.
No, I should n't; it's real jolly up there when
the big barn is full and eighty horses have to be
taken care of. I love to go and see 'em. Mr.
Towne asked me to come and be stable-boy when
I rode the kicking gray the rest were afraid of. I
hankered to go, but Miss Celia had just got my new
books, and I knew she'd feel bad if I gave up going
to school. Now I'm glad I didn't, for I get on
first rate and like it."
You done right, boy, and I 'm pleased with you.
Don't you ever be ungrateful to them that befriended
you, if you want to prosper. I'll tackle the stable
business a Monday and see what 's to be done.
Now I ought to be .11;.... but I'll be round in
the morning, ma'am, if you can spare Ben for a
spell to-morrow. We 'd like to have a good Sun-
day tramp and talk; would n't we, Sonny?" and Mr.
Brown rose to go, witli his hand on Ben's shoulder,
as if loth to leave him even for the night.
Mrs. Moss saw the longing in his face, and for-
getting that he was an utter stranger, spoke right
out of her hospitable heart.
It is a long piece to the tavern, and my little back
bed-room is always ready. It wont make a mite of
trouble if you don't mind a plain place, and you
are heartily welcome."
Mr. Brown looked pleased, but hesitated to
accept any further favor from the good soul who
had already done so much for him and his. Ben
gave him no time to speak, however, for running






UNDER THE LILACS.


to a door he flung it open and beckoned, saying,
eagerly:
Do stay, father; it will be so nice to have you.
This is a tip-top room; I slept here the night I
came, and that bed was just splendid after bare
ground for a fortnight."
I'll stop, and as I'm pretty well done up, I
guess we may as well turn in now," answered the
new guest; then, as if the memory of that homeless
little lad so kindly cherished made his heart over-
flow in spite of him, Mr. Brown paused at the door
to say hastily, with his hands on Bab and Betty's
heads, as if his promise was a very earnest one:
I don't forget, ma'am, and these children shall
never want a friend while Ben Brown 's alive;"
then he shut the door so quickly that the other
Ben's prompt '" Hear, hear !" was cut short in the
middle.
I s'pose he means that we shall have a piece
of Ben's father, because we gave Ben a piece of our
mother," said Betty, softly.
Of course he does, and it's all fair," answered
Bab, decidedly. Is n't he a nice man, Ma ?"
Go to bed, children," was all the answer she
got; but when they were gone, Mrs. Moss, as she
washed up her dishes, more than once glanced at a
certain nail where a man's hat had not hung for
five years, and thought with a sigh what a natural,
protecting air that slouched felt had.
If one wedding were not quite enough for a child's
story, we might here hint what no one dreamed of
then, that before the year came round again Ben
had found a mother, Bab and Betty a father, and
Mr. Brown's hat was quite at home behind the
kitchen door. But, on the whole, it is best not to
say a word about it.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED.

THE Browns were up and out so early next
morning that Bab and Betty were sure they had
run away in the night. But on looking for them,
they were discovered in the coach-house criticising
Lita, both with their hands in their pockets, both
chewing straws, arrd looking as much alike as a big
elephant and a small one.
That 's as pretty a little span as I've seen for a
long time," said the elder Ben, as the children
came trotting down the path hand in hand, with
the four blue bows at the ends of their braids bob-
bing briskly up and down.
"The nigh one is my favorite, but the off one is
the best goer, though she 's dreadfully hard bitted,"
answered Ben the younger, with such a comical
assumption of a jockey's important air that his
father laughed as he said in an undertone:


Come, boy, we must drop the old slang since
we've given up the old business. These good folks
are making a gentleman of you, and I wont be the
one to spoil their work. Hold on, my dears, and
I'll show you how they say good-morning in Cali-
fornia," he added, beckoning to the little girls, who
now came up rosy and smiling.
"Breakfast is ready, sir," said Betty, looking
much relieved to find them.
"We thought you'd run away from us," ex-
plained Bab, as both put out their hands to shake
those extended to them.
"That would be a mean trick. But I'm going
to run away witit you," and Mr. Brown whisked a
little girl to either shoulder before they knew what
had happened, while Ben, remembering the day,
with difficulty restrained himself from turning a
series of triumphant somersaults before them all
the way to the door, where Mrs. Moss stood waiting
for them.
After breakfast, Ben disappeared for a short time,
and returned in his Sunday suit, looking so neat
and fresh that his father surveyed him with surprise
and pride as he came in full of boyish satisfaction
in his trim array.
Here's a smart young chap Did you take all
that trouble just to go to walk with old Daddy? "
asked Mr. Brown, stroking the smooth head, for
they were alone just then, Mrs. Moss and the chil-
dren being upstairs preparing for church.
"'1 thought may be you 'd like to go to meeting
first," answered Ben, looking up at him with such
a happy face that it was hard to refuse anything.
I'm too shabby, Sonny, else I'd go in a minute
to please you."
"Miss Celia said God did n't mind poor clothes,
and she took me when I looked worse than you do.
I always go in the morning; she likes to have me,"
said Ben, turning his hat about as if not quite sure
what he ought to do.
"Do you want to go?" asked his father in a
tone of surprise.
I want to please her, if you don't mind. We
could have our tramp this afternoon."
I have n't been to meeting since mother died,
and it don't seem to come easy, though I know I
ought to, seeing I 'm alive and here," and Mr.
Brown looked soberly out at the lovely autumn-
world as if glad to be in it after his late danger and
pain.
'" Miss Celia said church was a good place to take
our troubles, and to be thankful in. I went when I
thought you were dead, and now I 'd love to go
when I 've got my Daddy safe again."
No one saw him, so Ben could not resist giving
his father a sudden hug, which was warmly returned
as the man said earnestly :


[OCTOBER,







UNDER THE LILACS.


I'll go, and thank the Lord hearty for giving
me back my boy better 'n I left him "
For a minute, nothing was heard but the loud tick
of the old clock and a mournful whine from Sancho,
shut up in the shed lest he should go to church
without an invitation.
Then, as steps were heard on the stairs, Mr.
Brown caught up his hat, saying hastily :
"I ain't fit to go with them, you tell 'em, and
I'll slip into a back seat after folks are in. I know
the way." And, before Ben could reply, he was
gone.
Nothing was seen of him along the way, but he


green, but a single boy sat on the steps and ran to
meet him, saying with a reproachful look:
I was n't going to let you be alone and have
folks think I was ashamed of my father. Come,
Daddy, we'll sit together."
So Ben led his father straight to the Squire's pew,
and sat beside him with a face so full of innocent
pride and joy that people would have suspected
the truth if he had not already told many of them.
Mr. Brown, painfully conscious of his shabby coat,
was rather taken aback," as he expressed it, but
the Squire's shake of the hand and Mrs. Allen's
gracious nod enabled him to face the eyes of the


~v,~~U -
; -iOn~~"
Ts~-a.
*3
~~b~I'-c': ~


BEN AND H s ATHEE OPEN T-. G-EAT O.^ AT.a
BEN AND HIS FATHER OPEN TIIE GREAT GATE.
I


saw the little party, and rejoiced again over his boy,
changed so greatly for the better ; for Ben was the
one thing which had kept his heart soft through
all the trials and temptations of a rough life.
I promised Mary I'd do my best for the poor
baby she had to leave, and I tried, but I guess a
better friend than I am has been raised up for him
when he needed her most. It wont hurt me to
follow him in this road," thought Mr. Brown as he
came out into the highway from his stroll across
lots," feeling that it would be good for him to stay
in this quiet place for his own as well as for his
son's sake.
The bell had done ringing when he reached the
VOL. V.-52.


interested congregation, the younger portion of
which stared steadily at him all sermon time, in spite
of paternal frowns and maternal tweakin gs in the rear.
But the crowning glory of the day came after
church, when the Squire said to Ben, and Sam
heard him:
I 've got a letter for you from Miss Celia. Come
home with me and bring your father. I want to
talk to him."
The boy proudly escorted his parent to the old"
carry-all, and tucking himself in behind with Mrs.
Allen, had the satisfaction of seeing the slouched
felt hat side by side with the Squire's Sunday bea-
ver in front, as they drove off at such an unusually







UNDER TIE LILACS.


smart pace that, it was evident, Duke knew there
was a critical eye upon him. The interest taken
in the father was owing to the son at first, but, by
the time the story was told, old Ben had won friends
for himself, not only because of the misfortunes
which he had evidently borne in a manly way, but
because of his delight in the boy's improvement,
and the desire he felt to turn his hand to any honest
work, that he might keep Ben happy and contented
in this good home.
I'll give you a line to Towne. Smithers spoke
well of you, and your own ability will be the best
recommendation," said the Squire, as he parted
from them at his door, having given Ben the letter.
Miss Celia had been gone a fortnight, and every
one was longing to have her back. The first week
brought Ben a newspaper, with a crinkly line drawn
round the marriages to attract attention to that
spot, and one was marked by a black frame with a
large hand pointing at it from the margin. Thorny)
sent that, but the next week came a parcel for Mrs.
Moss, and in it was discovered a box of wedding-
cake for every member of the family, including
Sancho, who ate his at one gulp and chewed up the
lace paper which covered it. This was the third
week, and as if there could not be happiness
enough crowded into it for Ben, the letter he read
on his way home told him that his dear mistress
was coming back on the following Saturday. One
passage particularly pleased him:
I want the great gate opened, so that the new
master may go in that way. Will you see that it
is done, and all made neat afterward. Ronda will
give you the key, and you may have out all your
flags if you like, for the old place cannot look too
gay for this home-coming."
Sunday though it was, Ben could not help waving
the letter over his head as he ran in to tell Mrs.
Moss the glad news, and begin at once to plan the
welcome they would give Miss Celia, for he never
called her anything else.
During their afternoon stroll in the mellow sun-
shine, Ben continued to talk of her, never tired of
telling about his happy summer under her roof.
And Mr. Browvn was never weary of hearing, for
every hour showed him more plainly what a lovely
miracle her gentle words had wrought, and every
hour increased his gratitude, his desire to return
the kindness in some humble way. He had his
wish, and did his part handsomely when he least
expected to have a chance.
On Monday he saw Mr. Towne, and, thanks to
the Squire's good word, was engaged for a month
on trial, making himself so useful that it was soon
evident he was the right man in the right place.
He lived on the hill, but managed to get down to
the little brown house in the evening for a word


with Ben, who just now was as full of business as
if the President and his Cabinet were coming.
Everything was put in apple-pie order in and
about the old house; the great gate, with much
creaking of rusty hinges and some clearing away
of rubbish, was set wide open, and the first creat-
ure who entered it was Sancho, solemnly dragging
the dead mullein which long ago had grown above
the top of it. October frosts seemed to have
spared some of the brightest leaves for this especial
occasion, and on Saturday the gate-way was
decorated with gay wreaths, red and yellow sprays
strewed the flags, and the porch was a blaze of
color with the red woodbine, that was in its glory
when the honeysuckle was leafless.
Fortunately, it was a half-holiday, so the children
could trim and chatter to their hearts' content, and
the little girls ran about sticking funny decora-
tions where no one would ever think of looking for
them. Ben was absorbed in his flags, which were
sprinkled all down the avenue with a lavish display,
suggesting several Fourth-of-Julys rolled into one.
Mr. Brown had come down to lend a hand, and
did so most energetically, for the break-neck things
he did with his son during the decoration fever
would have terrified Mrs. Moss out of her wits if she
had not been in the house giving last touches to
every room, while Ronda and Katy set forth a
sumptuous tea.
All was going well, and the train would be due
in an hour, when luckless Bab nearly turned
the rejoicing into mourning, the feast into ashes.
She heard her mother say to Ronda, There
ought to be a fire in every room, it looks so
cheerful, and the air is chilly spite of the sun-
shine," and never waiting to hear the reply that
some of the long-unused chimneys were not safe
till cleaned, off went Bab with an apron full of old
shingles and made a roaring blaze in the front room
fire-place, which was of all others the one to be let
alone, as the flue was out of order. Charmed with
the brilliant light and the crackle of the tindery
fuel, Miss Bab refilled her apron and fed the fire
till the chimney began to rumble ominously, sparks
to fly out at the top, and soot and swallows' nests to
come tumbling down upon the hearth. Then,
scared at what she had done, the little mischief-
maker hastily buried her fire, swept up the rubbish,
and ran off, thinking no one would discover her
prank if she never told.
Everybody was very busy, and the big chimney
blazed and rumbled unnoticed till the cloud of
smoke caught Ben's eye as he festooned his last
effort in the flag line, part of an old sheet with the
words "Father has come !" in red cambric let-
ters, half a foot long, sewed upon it.
Hullo, I do believe they've got up a bonfire


[OCTOBER,






UNDER THE LILACS.


without asking my leave Miss Celia never would
let us, because the sheds and roofs are so old and
dry; I must see about it. Catch me, Daddy, I 'm
coming down cried Ben, dropping out of the
elm with no more thought of where he might
alight than a squirrel swinging from bough to
bough.
His father caught him, and followed in haste as
his nimble-footed son raced up the avenue, to stop
in the gate-way, frightened at the prospect before
him, for falling sparks had already kindled the roof
here and there, and the chimney smoked and roared
like a small volcano, while Katy's wails and Ronda's
cries for water came from within.
Up there, with wet blankets, while I get out the
hose cried Mr. Brown, as he saw at a glance
what the danger was.
Ben vanished, and, before his father got the gar-
den hose rigged, he was on the roof with a dripping
blanket over the worst spot. Mrs. Moss had her
wits about her in a minute, and ran to put in the
fire-board and stop the draught. Then, stationing
Ronda to watch that the falling cinders did no harm
inside, she hurried off to help Mr. Brown, who
might not know where things were. But he had
roughed it so long that he was the man for
emergencies, and seemed to lay his hand on what-
ever was needed, by a sort of instinct. Finding
that the hose was too short to reach the upper part
of the roof, he was on the roof in a jiffy with two
pails of water, and quenched the most dangerous
flames before much harm was done. This he kept
up till the chimney burned itself out, while Ben
dodged about among the gables with a watering-
pot, lest some stray sparks should be overlooked
and break out afresh.
While they worked there, Betty ran to and fro
with a dipper of water trying to help, and Sancho
barked violently, as if he objected to this sort of
illumination. But where was Bab, who reveled in
flurries? No one missed her till the fire was out,
and the tired, sooty people met to talk over the
danger just escaped.
Poor Miss Celia would n't have had a roof over
her head if it had n't been for you, Mr. Brown,"
said Mrs. Moss, sinking into a kitchen chair, pale
with the excitement.
It would have burnt lively, but I guess it's all
right now. Keep an eye on the roof, Ben, and I'll
step up garret and see if all's safe there. Did n't
you know that chimney was foul, ma'am ? asked
the man, as he wiped the perspiration off his grimy
face.
Ronda said it was, and I 'm surprised she
made a fire there," began Mrs. Moss, looking at
the maid, who just then came in with a pan full
of soot.


Bless you, ma'am, I never thought of such a
thing, nor Katy neither. That naughty Bab must
have done it, and so don't dar'st to show herself,"
answered the irate Ronda, whose nice room was in
a mess.
Where is the child ? asked her mother, and a
hunt was immediately instituted by Betty and
Sancho, while the elders cleared up.
Anxious Betty searched high and low, called and
cried, but all in vain, and was about to sit down in
despair, when Sancho made a bolt into his new
kennel and brought out a shoe with a foot in it,
while a doleful squeal came from the straw within.
Oh, Bab, how could you do it? Ma was
frightened dreadfully," said Betty, gently tugging
at the striped leg, as Sancho poked his head in for
another shoe.
Is it all burnt up demanded a smothered
voice from the recesses of the kennel.
"Only pieces of the roof. Ben and his father
put it out, and helped,' answered Betty, cheering
up a little as she recalled her noble exertions.
"What do they do to folks who set houses
afire ?" asked the voice again.
I don't know; but you need n't be afraid; there
is n't much harm done, I guess, and Miss Celia
will forgive you, she's so good."
"Thorny wont; he calls me a botherationn,'
and I guess I am," mourned the unseen culprit,
with sincere contrition.
I'll ask him; he is always good to me. They
will be here pretty soon, so you 'd better come out
and be made tidy," suggested the comforter.

"I never can come out, for every one will hate
me," sobbed Bab among the straw; and she pulled
in her foot, as if retiring forever from an outraged
world.
Ma wont, she's too busy cleaning up; so
it's a good time to come. Let's run home, wash
our hands, and be all nice when they see us.
I '11 love you, no matter what anybody else does,"
said Betty, consoling the poor little sinner, and
proposing the sort of repentance most likely to find
favor in the eyes of the agitated elders.
P'r'aps I'd better go home, for Sanch will want
his bed," and Bab gladly availed herself of that
excuse to back out of her refuge, a very crumpled,
dusty young lady, with a dejected face, and much
straw sticking in her hair.
Betty led her sadly away, for she still protested
that she never should dare to meet the offended
public again ; but in fifteen minutes both appeared
in fine order and good spirits, and naughty Bab
escaped a lecture for the time being, as the train
would soon be due.
At the first sound of the car whistle every one
turned good-natured as if by magic, and flew to the







UNDER T IIE LILACS.


gate, smiling as if all mishaps were forgiven and
forgotten. Mrs. Moss, however, slipped quietly
away, and was the first to greet Miss Celia as the
carriage stopped at the entrance of the avenue, so
that the luggage might go in by way of the
lodge.
We will walk up and you shall tell us the news
as we go, for I see you have some," said the young
lady, in her friendly manner, when Mrs. Moss had
given her welcome and paid her respects to the
gentleman, who shook hands in a way that con-
vinced her he was indeed what Thorny called him,
" regularly jolly," though he was a minister.
That being exactly what she came for, the good
woman told her tidings as rapidly as possible, and
the new-comers were so glad to hear of Ben's hap-
piness they made very light of Bab's bonfire, though
it had come near burning their house down.
We wont say a word about it, for every one
must be happy to-day," said Mr. George, so kindly
that Mrs. Moss felt a load taken off her heart at
once.
Bab was always teasing me for fire-works, but I
guess she has had enough for the present," laughed
Thorny, who was gallantly escorting Bab's mother
up the avenue.
Every one is so kind Teacher was out with
the children to cheer us as we passed, and here you
all are making things pretty for me," said Miss
Celia, smiling with tears in her eyes, as they drew
near the great gate, which certainly did present an
animated if not an imposing appearance.
Ronda and Katy stood on one side, all in their
best, bobbing delighted courtesies; Mr. Brown, half
hidden behind the gate on the other side, was keep-
ing Sancho erect, so that he might present arms
promptly when the bride appeared. As flowers
were scarce, on either post stood a rosy little girl
clapping her hands, while out from the thicket of
red and yellow boughs, which made a grand bou-
quet in the lantern frame, came Ben's head and
shoulders, as he waved his grandest flag with its
gold paper "Welcome Home !" on a blue
ground.
Is n't it beautiful cried Miss Celia, throwing
kisses to the children, shaking hands with her


maids, and glancing brightly at the stranger who
was keeping Sanch quiet.
Most people adorn their gate-posts with stone
balls, vases, or griffins; your living images are a
great improvement, love, especially the happy boy
in the middle," said Mr. George, eying Ben with
interest, as he nearly tumbled overboard, top-heavy
with his banner.
"You must finish what I have only begun,"
answered Miss Celia, adding gayly, as Sancho broke
loose and came to offer both his paw and his con-
gratulations, Sanch, introduce your master, that
I may thank him for coming back in time to save
my old house."
If I 'd saved a dozen it would n't have half paid
for all you've done for my boy, ma'am," answered
Mr. Brown, bursting out from behind the gate
quite red with gratitude and pleasure.
I loved to do it, so please remember that this
is still his home till you make one for him. Thank
God, he is no longer fatherless !" and Miss Celia's
sweet face said even more than her words, as the
white hand cordially shook the brown one with a
burn across the back.
Come on, sister. I see the tea-table all ready,
and I'm awfully hungry," interrupted Thorny, who
had not a ray of sentiment about him, though very
glad Ben had got his father back again.
Come over, by and by, little friends, and let
me thank you for your pretty welcome,-it certainly
is a warm one; and Miss Celia glanced merrily
from the three bright faces above her to the old
chimney, which still smoked sullenly.
Oh, don't !" cried Bab, hiding her face.
She did n't mean to," added Betty, pleadingly.
Three cheers for the bride roared Ben, dip-
ping his flag, as leaning on her husband's arm his
dear mistress passed through the gay party, along
the leaf-strewn walk, over the threshold of the house
which was to be her happy home for many years.
The closed gate where the lonely little wanderer
once lay was always to stand open now, and the
path where children played before was free to all
comers, for a hospitable welcome henceforth awaited
rich and poor, young and old, sad and gay, Under
the Lilacs.


[OCTOBER,






HOW TO KEEP. A JOURNAL.



HAPPY LITTLE FROGGY.


BY E. MULLER.


HAPPY little Froggy, he
Was proud enough
Of his trousers and his coat,
Green and buff.


Came and caught him Rob and Bess,
Quick as flash,
Dressed him up in Dolly's dress,
And her sash.


Froggy gave a frantic leap,
And in three springs
Took into the water deep
All Dolly's things.




HOW TO KEEP A JOURNAL.

BY W. S. JEROME.


AUTUMN is as good a time as any for a boy or
girl to begin to keep a journal. Too many
have the idea that it is a hard and unprofitable task
to keep a journal, and especially is this the case
with those who have begun, but soon gave up the
experiment. They think it is a waste of time, and


that no good results from it. But that depends
upon the kind of journal that you keep. Every-
body has heard of the boy who thought he would
try to keep a diary. He bought a book, and wrote
in it, for the first day, Decided to keep a journal."
The next day he wrote, Got up, washed, and






HOW TO KEEP A JOURNAL.


went to bed." The day after, he wrote the same
thing, and no wonder that at the end of a week he
wrote, Decided not to keep a journal," and gave
up the experiment. It is such attempts as this, by
persons who have no idea of what a journal is, or
how to keep it, that discourage others from begin-
ning. But it is not hard to keep a journal if you
begin in the right way, and will use a little per-
severance and patience. The time spent in writing
in a journal is not wasted, by any means. It may
be the best employed hour of any in the day, and a
well-kept journal is a source of pleasure and advan-
tage which more than repays the writer for the time
and trouble spent upon it.
The first thing to do in beginning a journal, is to
resolve to stick to it. Don't begin, and let the poor
journal die in a week. A journal, or diary, should
be written in every day, if possible. Now, don't be
frightened at this, for you do a great many things
every day, and this is n't a very awful condition.
The time spent may be longer or shorter, accord-
ing to the matter to be written up; but try and
write, at least a little, every day. "Nu/lla dies sine
line "-no day without a line-is a good motto.
It is a great deal easier to write a little every day,
than to write up several days in one.
Do not get for a journal a book with the dates
already printed in it. That kind will do very well for
a merchant's note-book, but not for the young man
or woman who wants to keep a live, cheerful account
of a happy and pleasant life. Sometimes you will
have a picnic or excursion to write about, and w.l'
want to fill more space than the printed page allows.
Buy a substantially bound blank-book, made of
good paper; write your name and address plainly
on the fly-leaf, and, if you choose, paste a calendar
inside the cover. Set down the date at the head of
the first page, thus: Tuesday, October I, 1878."
Then begin the record of the day, endeavoring as
far as possible to mention the events in the correct
order of time,-morning, afternoon and evening.
When this is done, write in the middle of the page,
" Wednesday, October 2," and you are ready for
the record of the next day. It is well to set down
the year at the top of each page.
But what are you to write about ? First, the
weather. Don't forget this. Write, Cold and
windy," or "Warm and bright," as the case may
be. It takes but a moment, and in a few years
you will have a complete record of the weather,
which will be found not only curious, but useful.
Then put down the letters you have received or
written, and, if you wish, any money paid or re-
ceived. The day of beginning or leaving school;
the studies you pursue; visits from or to your
friends; picnics or sleigh-rides; the books you
have read; and all such items of interest should be


noted. Write anything that you want to remem-
ber. After trying this plan a short time, you will
be surprised at the many things constantly occur-
ring which you used to overlook, but which now
form pleasant paragraphs in your book. But don't
try to write something when there is nothing to
write. If there is only a line to be written, write
that, and begin again next day.
Do not set down about people anything which you
would not wish them to see. It is not likely that any
one will ever see your writing, but it is possible, so,
always be careful about what you write. The
Chinese say of a spoken word, that once let fall, it
cannot be brought back by a chariot and six horses.
Much more is this true of written words, and once
out of your possession, there is no telling where
they will go, or who will see them.
The best time to write in a journal is in the even-
ing. Keep the book in your table-drawer, or on
your desk, and, after supper, when the lamps are
lighted, sit down and write your plain account of
the day. Don't try to write an able and eloquent
article, but simply give a statement of what you
have seen or done during the day. For the first
week or two after beginning a journal, the novelty
of the thing will keep up your interest, and you
will be anxious for the time to come when you can
write your journal. But, after a while, it becomes
tedious. Then is the time when you must perse-
vere. Write something every day, and before long
you will find that you are becoming so accustomed
to it, that you would not willingly forego it. After
that, the way is plain, and the longer you live the
more valuable and indispensable your journal will
become.
But some practical young person asks : What is
the good of a journal ? There is very much. In the
first place, it teaches habits of order and regularity.
The boy or girl who every evening arranges the
proceedings of the day in systematic order, and
regularly writes them out, is not likely to be care-
less in other matters. It helps the memory. A
person who keeps a journal naturally tries during
the day to remember things he sees, until he can
write them down. Then the act of writing helps
to still further fix the facts in his memory. The
journal is a first-class teacher of penmanship.
All boys and girls should take pride in having the
pages of their journals as neat and handsome as
possible. Compare one day's writing with that of
the one before, and try to improve every day.
Keeping a journal cultivates habits of observation,
correct ana concise expression, and gives capital
practice in composition, spelling, punctuation, and
all the little things which go to make up a good
letter-writer. So, one who keeps a journal is all
the while learning to be a better penman, and a


[OCTOBER,






SIMPLE SIMON.


better composer, with the advantage of writing orig-
inal, historical, and descriptive articles, instead of
copying the printed letters and sentences of a
writing-book.
But, best of all, a well-kept journal furnishes a
continuous and complete family history, which is
always interesting, and often very useful. It is
sometimes very convenient to have a daily record
of the year, and the young journalist will often
have occasion to refer to his account of things gone
by. Perhaps, some evening, when the family are


sitting and talking together, some one will ask,
" What kind of weather did we have last winter?"
or, When was the picnic you were speaking of?"
and the journal is referred to. But the pleasure of
keeping a journal is itself no small reward. It is
pleasant to exercise the faculty of writing history,
and to think that you are taking the first step
toward writing newspapers and books. The writer
can practice on different kinds of style, and can
make his journal a record, not only of events, but
of his own progress as a thinker and writer.


SIMPLE SIMON.


" SIMPLE SIMON went a-fishing,
Fcr to catch a whale,
And all the water that he had,
Was in his mother's pail."






PRINCE CUCURBITA.


PRINCE CUCURBITA.

BY EDITH A. EDWARDS.








-_- _
., . .' ..

' '".








.A-e. -W
.... 55 i_,._,.-jP- _.: .-Yz :


PRINCE CUCURBITA ON THE TRELLIS.


PRINCE CUCURBITA was very unhappy. His
smooth, shiny face was all puckered up into little
wrinkles, and every now and then a big sob shook
his jolly little person till you really felt like crying
yourself at the sight of him. Here was a prince
living in a lovely garden full of birds and flowers,
surrounded by a large family of brothers and sisters,
and always dressed in a pretty green jacket, which
could not get soiled or torn. In spite of all this, he
was not happy, for Queen Cucurbita, in order to
keep her children out of harm's way, had hoisted
them all up on a high trellis, and would never
let them get down.
You may think the Prince might have been
smart enough, or naughty enough, to have jumped
down when his mother's back was turned, but,
alas how could he ? for she held tightly to the
tassel of his cap, and his cap fitted so closely to his
head that no effort of his was ever able to get it off.
Across the way lived another big family, the Fil-
berts. They were just the merriest set that ever


was seen, nodding gayly to Cucu now and then
when they could spare the time from their own fun,
and telling stories to each other, which must have
been very amusing; for sometimes they all laughed
together till they nearly fell out of bed, and their
mother was obliged to shake them all round. One
day, there was a great commotion among the Fil-
berts. The eldest brother had determined to go
out into the world and seek his fortune, so he
climbed out of bed and quietly dropped to the
ground.
Oh, dear me !" cried Cucu; it is too mean
that I should have to stay up on this old trellis."
"Naughty boy!" scolded his mother. "'What
are you talking about ? That ever I should be
afflicted with such a fractious child; 't is enough to
turn me yellow;" and she spread out her pretty
green apron, and waved her ribbons in the air,
while she took a firmer hold upon the poor little
Prince's cap.
Don't you know that if I were to let go, off you


[OCTOBER,


- j_






PRINCE CUCURBITA.


would fall flat on your back upon the nasty wet
ground, and very likely lie there all the rest of your
life, growing wrinkled and yellow and sickly, while
great ugly worms crawled over you, and everybody
blamed me for a careless parent ? No no I shall
take good care you don't get away from me, you
may be sure."
So, Cucu had to accept his fate as best he might,
and amused himself watching his neighbors.
Every day, now, one or more of them left home and
disappeared among the grass and flowers below.
Cucu imagined them as traveling off around the
garden, but if he had seen them lying half buried
in the earth, their bright brown faces dirty and
streaked with tears, their merry little hearts nearly
broken with woe, he would not have envied them
so much.
Day after day passed, and the month of October
came with its clear and cool nights. Queen Cucur-
bita did not relish this at all, and, every morning,
when the sun peeped at her, he wondered how he
ever could have admired such a dried-up yellow old
creature. Cucu's heart, on the contrary, grew
happier all the time, he lifted up his heavy head
that seemed to be lighter each day, and when the
wind blew, he rattled against the trellis and won-
dered how it was he could move so easily. Poor
Prince !" the Cat-bird whistled, as she perched
above him, "your face is getting as brown and
shining as one of those little Filberts, your cap is
no longer green and pretty, and you look so light
that a breath might blow you away."
"I don't care," returned Cucu, "for I feel de-
lighted, and so long as I can't see my own face,
what's the odds ?"
The next night was clear and very cold. The
people to whom the garden belonged brought out
sheets and covered over the tender heliotropes and
other flowers they valued, but they could n't have
cared much for Queen Cucurbita, for they never
gave her a thought. When Cucu woke up bright
and early and said good-morning to his mother,
she did not reply. He turned his head to look at
her. Oh, frightful sight! she hung to the trellis
wilted and dead; her green dress was brown and
torn, but her hard and wrinkled hand still grasped
poor Cucu's cap.
After the sun had been up some hours, a lady
came into the garden and approached the home of
the Cucurbita family.
Oh, you beauty she cried, what a lovely
basket I shall make of you !" and, placing a hand
on each of Cucu's checks, she gave him a slight
twist,-his mother's fingers let go; he was free.
The lady put him in her basket, and now he was
really setting off on his travels.
This was, in fact, only the beginning of his


career. The lady with a sharp knife lifted his cap
from his head; then she painted him all over a pale
green. After the paint was dry, she bored three
holes in his sides. My! how it hurt! but it was
soon over, and she had fastened three slender
chains through them, and hung the little Prince up
in a sunny window. "What next?" he wondered.
If he had got to hang here all his life, it would n't
be much better than the old trellis. But that
was n't the end, for his mistress filled him with nice
black earth, and planted delicate little ferns and
runaway-robins which climbed over and twined
lovingly round his face. They patted his cheeks
with their soft little hands, and whispered pretty
stories of the woods they had come from.
"Dear Cucu," said they, "how much we love
you, and how kind you are to hold us all so care-
fully !" When they said this, he felt so proud and
happy that he could not contain himself any longer,
and sang at the top of his voice; ,but the people in
the house did not hear him, for mortal ears are not
adapted to such music. Only the Cat-bird flying
past understood and stopped to congratulate him.
"Plenty to do, and plenty to love," she sang;
"that is the way to be happy. I found it out last
spring when it took me from morning till night to
find food for my four hungry babies. Good-bye !


CUCURI;TA IN THE WINDOW.


I am going south with them to-day. I have n't a
bit of time to lose," and away she flew.
And the ferns and the runaway-robins clapped
their hands and sang, "Yes, that is the secret.
Good-bye Good-bve !"






MRS. PRIMKINS' SURPRISE.


MRS. PRIMKINS' SURPRISE.

BY OLIVE,THORNE.


OUR older readers wil remember Nimpo, whose Troubles interested them in ST. NICHOLAS'S first year. To our newer friends it is only
necessary to say, that Nimpo and Rush were boarding with Mrs Primkins during their mother's absence, by Nimpo's own desire, and were
very unhappy under the care of that well-meaning-but very peculiar-person, who was so greatly surprised on the occasion of the Birthday
Party.


ONE morning, Mrs. Primkins received a letter.
This was a very unusual occurrence, and she has-
tened to wipe her hands out of the dish-water,
hunt up her "specs," clean them carefully, and,
at last, sit down in her chintz-covered "Boston
rocker," to enjoy at her leisure this very rare liter-
ary dissipation.
Nimpo, who was boarding with Mrs. Primkins
while her mother was off on a journey, was engaged
in finishing her breakfast, and did not notice any-
thing. Having found her scissors, and deliberately
cut around the old-fashioned seal, Mrs. Primkins
opened the sheet and glanced at the name at the
bottom of the page, then turned her eyes hastily
toward Nimpo, with a low, significant Humph !"
But Nimpo, intent only on getting off to school,
still did not see her. Mrs. Primkins went on to
examine more closely, covering with her hands
something which fell from the first fold, rustling,
to her lap. Very deliberately, then, as became
this staid woman, did she read the letter from date
to signature, twice over, and, ending as she had
begun with a significant "Humph she refolded
the letter, slipped in the inclosure, put it into her
black silk work-bag which hung on the back of
her chair, and resumed her dish-washing, for she
was a genuine "Yankee housekeeper" of the old-
fashioned sort, and scorned the assistance of what
she called "hired help."
Meanwhile, Nimpo finished her breakfast, gath-
ered up her books, and hurried off to school,
though it was an hour too early, never dreaming
that the letter had anything to do with her. After
the morning work was done,-the pans scalded
and set in the sun; the house dusted from attic to
cellar ; the vinegar reheated and poured over the
walnuts that were pickling; the apples drying on
the shed roof, turned over; the piece of muslin
("bolt," she called it) that was bleaching on the
grass, thoroughly sprinkled; and, in fact, every-
thing, indoors and out, in Mrs. Primkins' domain,
put into perfect order, that lady sat down to con-
sider. She drew the letter from the bag. and read
it over, carefully inspecting a ten-dollar bill in her
hands, and then leaned back, and indulged herself


in a very unusual, indeed totally unheard-of, luxury
-a rest of ten minutes with idle hands !
If Nimpo had chanced to come in, she would
have been alarmed at such an extraordinary state
of things; but she was at that moment in her
seat in the long school-house, with wrinkled brow,
wrestling with sundry conundrums in her "Watts
on the Mind," little suspecting how her fate was
hanging in the balance in Mrs. Primkins' kitchen
at this moment. At last, Mrs. Primkins' thin lips
opened. She was alone in the house, and she
began to talk to herself:
Wants her to have a birthday-party Humph!
I must say I can't see the good of pampering chil-
dren's folks do nowadays! When I was young,
now, we had something to think of besides fine
clothes, unwholesome food, and worldly dissipa-
tion! I must say I think Mis' Rievor has some
very uncommon notions Hows'ever," she went
on, contemplating fondly the bill she still held in
her hand, "I do' know's I have any call to fret
my gizzard if she chooses to potter away her
money I don't see my way clear to refuse alto-
gether to do what she asks, 's long's the child's
on my hands. Ten dollars! Humph She'hopes
it 'll be enough to provide a little supper for them !'
It's my private opinion that it will, and a mite
over for-for-other things," she added, resolutely
closing her lips with a snap. "I aint such a
shif'less manager's all that comes to, I do hope!
'T wont take no ten dollars to give a birthday-
party in my house, I bet a cookey "
That night, when supper was over, Nimpo sat
down with the family by the table, which held one
candle that dimly lighted the room, to finish a
book she was reading. Not that the kitchen was
the only room in the house. Mrs. Primkins had
plenty of rooms, but they were too choice for every-
day use. They were always tightly closed, with
green paper shades down, lest the blessed sunshine
should get a peep at her gaudy red and green
carpets, and put the least mellowing touch on
their crude and rasping colors. Nimpo thought
of the best parlor with a sort of awe which she
never felt toward any room in her mother's house.


[OCTOBER,






MRS. PRIMKINS' SURPRISE.


Nimpo," said Mrs. Primkins at last, when she
had held back the news till Nimpo had finished
her book, and was about to go upstairs, "wait a
bit. I got a letter from your Ma to-day."
Did you ? exclaimed Nimpo, alarmed. Oh !
what is the matter?"
Don't fly into tificks Nothing is the matter,"
said Mrs. Primkins.
"Is she coming home?" was the next eager
question.
No, not yet," fell like cold water on her warm
hopes. But she says to-morrow 's your birth-
day."
"Why, so it is!" said Nimpo, reflecting. "I
never thought of it."
"Wal, she thinks perhaps I'd best let you have
a few girls to tea on that day, if 't wont be too
much of a chore for me," went on Mrs. Primkins,
deliberately.
Nimpo's face was radiant. "Oh, Mrs. Prim-
kins, if you will!" But it fell again. But where
could they be ? "-for trespassing on the dismal
glories of the Primkins' parlor had never entered
her wildest dreams.
I've thought of that," said Mrs. Primkins,
grimly. Of course, I could n't abide a pack of
young ones tramping up my best parlor carpet,
and I thought mebbe I'd put a few things up in
the second story, and let you have 'em there."
The second story was unfurnished.
"Oh, that will be splendid !" said Nimpo,
eagerly. "But,-but,"--she hesitated,-"could
they take tea here ?" and she glanced around the
kitchen, which was parlor, sitting-room, dining-
room, and, in fact, almost the only really useful
room in the house. The front part Mrs. Primkins
enjoyed as other people enjoy pictures, or other
beautiful things,-looking at, but not using them.
No ; I shall set the table in the back chamber,
and let you play in the front chamber. We can
put some chairs in, and I'm sure a bare floor is
more suitable for a pack of young ones."
Mrs. Primkins always spoke of children as wild
beasts, which must be endured, to be sure, but
carefully looked after, like wolves or hyenas.
Oh yes We would n't be afraid of hurting
that. Oh, that'll be splendid continued Nimpo,
as the plan grew on her. I thank you so much,
Mrs. Primkins!-and we'll be so careful not to
hurt anything !"
Humph said Mrs. Primkins, not thinking it
necessary to tell her that her mother had sent
money to cover the expense. "'You're a master
hand to promise."
I know I forget sometimes," said Nimpo,
penitently. But I 'll try really to be careful,
this time."


795


"Wal," said Mrs. Primkins, in conclusion, as
she folded her knitting and brought out the bed-
room candles, if you don't hector me nigh about
to death, I 'il lose my guess But as I 'm in
for 't now, you may's well bring the girls when you
come home from school to-morrow. Then you '11
have time to play before supper, for their mothers '1l
want them home before dark."
"Do you care who I invite ?" asked Nimpo,
pausing with the door open on her way to bed.
"No, I do' know's I do. Your intimate friends,
your Ma said."
Oh, goody said Nimpo, as she skipped up-
stairs, two at a time. Wont we have fun How
nice it '11 be "
The next morning she was off, bright and early,
and, before the bell rang, every girl in the school
knew that Nimpo was going to have a birthday-
party, and was wondering if she would be invited.
At recess, she issued her invitations, every one of
which was promptly accepted; and in the after-
noon all came in their best dresses, ready to go
home with Nimpo.
At four o'clock, they were dismissed, and Nimpo
marshaled her guests and started. Now, the truth
was, that the girls had been so very lovely to her
when she was inviting, that she found it hard to
distinguish between intimate friends and those not
quite so intimate, so she had asked more than she
realized till she saw them started up the street.
However, she had not been limited as to numbers,
so she gave herself no concern, as she gayly led
the way.
Meanwhile, the Primkins family had been busy.
After the morning work was done, Mrs. Primkins
and her daughter Augusta made a loaf of plain,
wholesome cake, a couple of tins of biscuits, and
about the same number of cookies with caraway-
seeds in them. After dinner, they carried a table
into the back chamber and spread the feast.
Nimpo's mother had sent, as a birthday-present, a
new set of toy dishes. It had arrived by stage
while Nimpo was at school, and been carefully con-
cealed from her; and Augusta, who had not yet
forgotten that she was once young (though it was
many years before), thought it would be nice to
serve the tea on these dishes. Not being able to
think of any serious objection, and seeing advan-
tage in the small pieces required to fill them, Mrs.
Primkins had consented, and Augusta had arranged
a very pretty table, all with its white and gilt china.
The biscuits and cookies were cut small to match,
and, when ready, it looked very cunning, with tiny
slices of cake, and one little dish of jelly-from the
top shelf in Mrs. Primkins' pantry.
During the afternoon, a boy came up from the
store (Nimpo's father was a country merchant)






MRS. PKRIMKINS SURPRISE.


with a large basket, in which were several pounds
of nuts and raisins and candy, which her father had
ordered by letter.
Everything was prepared, and Mrs. Primkins
had put on a clean checked apron, to do honor to
the occasion, and sat down in her rocker, feeling
that she had earned her rest, when Augusta's
voice sounded from upstairs: Ma, do look down
street "
Mrs. Primkins went to the window that looked
toward the village, and was struck with horror.
"Goodness gracious Why, what under the
canopy Did you ever !" came from her lips in


I would n't stand it So there said Augusta,
sharply. I never did see such a young one I 'd
just send every chick and child home, and let Miss
Nimpo take her supper in her own room-to pay
her off! Things have come to a pretty pass, i
think "
I never did ejaculated Mrs. Primkins, nol
yet recovering her ordinary powers of speech.
Shall I go out and meet them, and send them
packing ? asked Augusta.
"No," said her mother, reluctantly, remember-
ing the unbroken bill in her upper drawer." i
do' know 's I have a right to send them back. I


Y IJiI.,

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Li/1111 IIII7 1~III



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ST-III II I l1AI I1'li

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quick succession, for there was Nimpo, the center
of a very mob of girls, all in Sunday best, as Mrs.
Primkins' experienced eye saw at a glance.
"Ma !" exclaimed Augusta, rushing down, "I
do believe that young one has invited the whole
school !"
"The trollop!" was all Mrs. Primkins could
get out, in her exasperation.
I 'd send 'em right straight home said
Augusta, indignantly. It's a burning shame "
Mercy on us This is a pretty kettle of fish !"
gasped Mrs. Primkins.


did n'i tell her how many, but-mercy on us !-
who 'd dream of such a raft If there 's one,
there's forty, I do declare "
That's the meaning of those enormous pack-
ages of nuts and things from the store," said
Augusta, that we thought were enough for an
army."
But the table gasped Mrs. Primkins. For
such a crowd Augusta," hastily, "fly around
like a parched pea, and lock the doors of that
room, till I think what we can do. This is a party
with a vengeance "


[OcTOBEIR,







187s]. hMRS. P1IIM KI


Augusta obeyed, and was none too quick, for the
girls crowded i.to the front chamber before she
had secured the doors.
Being a party," of course they had to go into
the house. But as soon as they had thrown off
their slat sun-bonnets,--which was in about one
second,-and began to look around the bare room,
to see what they should do next, Nimpo was seized
with a bright idea.
Girls, let's go out in the yard, and play till
tea-time," she said; and the next moment sun-
bonnets were resumed, and the whole troop tramped
down the back stairs, Nimpo not daring, even on
this festive occasion, to disturb the silence of the
solemn front hall, and the gorgeous colored stair-
carpet. In two minutes, they were deep in the
game of "Pom-pom-peel-away," and now was
Mrs. Primkins' chance.
She hastily sent Augusta out to the neighbors,
letting her out slyly by the front door, so the party "
should n't see her, to beg or borrow something to
feed the crowd ; for, the next day being baking-day,
her pantry was nearly empty, and there was not
such a thing in the -. ii .. as a bakery. As soon
as she was gone, Mrs. Primkins cleared the table
upstairs, hid the small biscuits and minute slices of
cake, and brought tables from other rooms to
lengthen this. She then carried every cup and
saucer and plate of her own up there, and even
made several surreptitious visits herself to accom-
modating friends, to borrow, telling the news, and
getting their sympathy, so that they freely lent
their dishes, and even sent their boys to carry them
over, and their big girls to help arrange.
For an hour, the games went on in the side yard,
while a steady stream came in by the front door-the
grand front door !-and up the august stairs, carry-
ing bread, cake, dishes, saucers, etc., etc., till there
was a tolerable supply, and Mrs. Primkins was in
debt numerous loaves of bread and cake, and
dishes of preserves."
At five o'clock, they were called in, and, before
their sharp young appetites, everything disappeared
like dew in the sunshine. It was a queer meal,-
bread of various shapes and kinds, and not a large
supply; cakes, an equally miscellaneous collection,
from cup-cake which old Mrs. Kellogg had kept in
a jar two months, in case a body dropped in un-
expected," to bread-cake fresh from some one else's
oven; cookies of a dozen kinds; doughnuts and
ginger-cakes, and half a dozen dishes of sweet-
meats, no two alike.
But all deficiencies were forgotten when they
came to the nuts and candies, for of these there
was no lack. Augusta had filled every extra dish
in the house with these delightful things, and I
sadly fear the children ate shocking amounts of


N\


NS SURPRISE. 797


trash. But they had a good time. The entertain-
ment was exactly to their liking, -little bread and
butter, and plenty of candy and raisins. It was
incomparably superior to ordinary teas, where
bread predominated and candy was limited.
After eating everything on the table, putting the
remainder of the candy in their pockets, as Nimpo
insisted, they flocked into the front room, where
Mrs. Primkins told them they might play a while,
if they would not make a noise, as a little sprinkle
of rain had come up. To insure quiet, each girl
took off her shoes, and played in stocking-feet on
the bare, rough floor, blind-man's-buff," "hunt
the slipper," and other games, for an hour more.
Suddenly, Nimpo held up her foot.
Girls look there Nimpo's tone was tragic.
The soles of her stockings were in awful holes!
All eyes were instantly turned on her, and forty feet
were simultaneously elevated to view. The tale
was the same,-every stocking sole was black as
the ground, and worn to rags !
What will Ma say? rose in horror to every lip.
This awful thought sobered them at once, and,
finding it getting dark, shoes were hastily sought
out of the pile in the corner, sun-bonnets donned,
and slowly the long procession moved down the
back stairs and out again into the street.
Nimpo flung herself on to the little bed in her
room, and sighed with happiness.
"Oh! was n't it splendid?-and I know mam-
ma '11 forgive my stockings. Besides, I '11 wash
them myself, and darn them."
.(While I am about it, I may as well say that
every girl who went to Nimpo's party had a long
and serious task of darning the next week.)
When it was all over, and Mrs. Primkins and
Augusta, assisted by two or three neighbors, had
washed and returned dishes, brought down tables
and chairs, swept out front hall, and reduced it to
its normal condition of dismal state, to be seen and
not used, and the neighbors had gone, and it was
nine o'clock at night, Augusta sat down to reckon
up debts, while Mrs. Primkins set the bread."
Augusta brought out her account, and read: "Mrs.
A., blank loaves of bread, ditto cake, one dish pre-
serves; Mrs. B., ditto, ditto ; Mrs. C., ditto, ditto."
Mrs. Primkins listened to the whole list, and
made a mental calculation of how much of the ten-
dollar bill it would take to pay up. The result
must have been satisfactory, for her grim face
relaxed almost into a smile, as she covered up the
sponge and washed her hands.
Wal, don't let your Pa get away in the morn-
ing till he has split up a good pile of oven-wood.
We '11 heat the brick oven, and have over Mis'
Kent's Mary Ann to help. I guess the money'll
cover it, and I can pay Mary Ann in old clothes."








DAB KINZER. (OCTOBER,


THE LINNET'S FEE.

BY MRS. ANNIE A. PRESTON.


ONCE I saw a wee brown linnet
Dancing on a tree,
Dancing on a tree.
How her feet flew every minute
As she danced at me-e-e;
How her feet flew every minute
As she danced at me !

" Sing a song for me, wee linnet,
Sing a song for me,
Sing a song for me."
" Oh, Miss, if you 'll wait a minute,
Till my mate I see-e-e;
Oh, Miss, if you '11 wait a minute,
He will sing for thee."


" Thank you, thank you, wee brown linnet,
For amusing me,
For amusing me;
You have danced for many a minute,
You must tired be-e-e,
You have sung for many minutes,
You must tired be."

" Thanks would starve us," cried the linnets,-
As he sung at me,
As she danced at me.
" Should you sing like this ten minutes,
You would want a fee-e-e;
Should you dance like this ten minutes
You would want a fee.


" Pardon me, I pray, dear linnet,
Fly down from your tree,
Fly down from your tree.


I will come back in
With some
I will come back in
With some


a minute
seed for thee-e-e;
a minute
seed for thee."


DAB KINZER: A STORY OF A GROWING


BOY.


By WILLIAM O. STODIAR).


CHAPTER XX.
DISMALLY barren and lonesome was that deso-
late bar between the "bay" and the ocean. Here
and there it swelled up into great drifts and mounds
of sand, which were almost large enough to be
called hills; but nowhere did it show a tree or a
bush, or even a patch of grass. Annie Foster
found herself getting melancholy as she gazed
upon it and thought of how the winds must some-
times sweep across it, laden with sea-spray and rain
and hail, or the bitter sleet and blinding snow of
winter.
Dabney," she said, "was the storm very severe
here last night and yesterday?"


Worse here than over our side of the bay, ten
times."
Were there any vessels wrecked ?"
Most likely; but it 's too soon to know just
where."
At that moment the "Swallow" was running
rapidly around a sandy point, jutting into the bay
from the highest mound on the bar, not half a mile
from the light-house, and only twice as far from the
low, wooden roof of the wrecking station," where,
as Dab had explained to his guests, the life-boats
and other apparatus were kept safely housed. The
piles of drifted sand had for some time prevented
the brightest eyes on board the Swallow from


DAB KINZER.


[OCTOBER.






DAB KINZER.


seeing anything to seaward; but now, as they came
around the point and a broad level lay before them,
Ham Morris sprang to his feet in sudden excite-
ment as he exclaimed:
In the breakers Why, she must have been a
three-master. All up with her now."
Look along the shore !" shouted Dab. Some
of 'em saved, anyhow. The coast-men are there,
life-boats and all."
So they were, and Ham was right about the ves-
sel, though not a mast was left standing in her now.
If there had been, indeed, she might have been
kept off the breakers, as they afterward learned.
She had been dismasted in the storm, but had not
struck until after daylight that morning, and help
had been close at hand and promptly given. No
such thing as saving that unfortunate hull. She
would beat to pieces just where she lay, sooner or
later, according to the kind of weather and the
waves it should bring with it.
The work done by the life-boat men had been a
good one, and had not been very easy either, for
they had brought the crew and passengers from the
wreck safely to the sandy beach. They had even
saved some items of baggage. In a few hours, the
"coast wrecking tugs" would be on hand to look
out for the cargo. No chance whatever for the
'longshoremen, good or bad, to turn an honest
penny without working hard for it. Work and
wages enough, to be sure, helping to unload, when
the sea, now so very heavy, should go down a little;
but wages" were not what some of them were
most hungry for.
Two of them, at all events-one a tall, weather-
beaten, stoop-shouldered, grizzled old man, in tat-
tered raiment, and the other, even more battered,
but with no look of the sea" about him-stood
on a sand-drift gloomily gazing at the group of
shipwrecked people on the shore, and the helpless
mass of timber and spars out there among the beat-
ings of the surf.
Not more'n three under yards out. She'd
break up soon 'f there was no one to hender. Wot
a show we'd hev."
"I reckon," growled the shorter man. Is
your name Peter ? "
Aye. I belong yer. Allers lived about high-
water mark. Whar 'd ye come from ? "
The only answer was a sharp and excited ex-
clamation. Neither of them had been paying any
attention to the bay side of the bar and, while they
were gazing at the wreck, a very pretty little yacht
had cast anchor, close in shore, and then, with the
help of a row-boat, quite a party of ladies and gen-
tlemen-the latter somewhat young-looking--had
made their way to the land, and were now hurrying
forward. They did not pay the slightest attention


to Peter and his companion, but, in a few minutes
more, they were trying to talk to those poor people
on the sea-beach. Trying, but not succeeding
very well, for the wreck had been a Bremen bark
with an assorted cargo and some fifty passengers,
all emigrants. German seemed their only tongue,
and none of Mrs. Kinzer's pleasure-party spoke
German.
Too bad," Ford Foster was saying, when there
came a sort of wail from a group at a little distance,
and it seemed to close with-" pauvre enfant."
"French!" he exclaimed. "Why, they look
as Dutch as any of the rest. Come on, Annie, let's
try and speak to them."
The rest followed a good deal like a flock of
sheep, and it was a sad enough scene which lay
before them. No lives had been lost in the wreck,
though there had been a great deal of suffering
among the poor passengers, cooped up between-
decks with the hatches closed, while the storm
lasted. Nobody drowned, indeed, but all dread-
fully soaked in the surf in getting ashore; and
among the rest had been the fair-haired child, now
lying there on his mother's lap, so pinched and
blue, and seemingly so lifeless.
French, were they ? Yes and no; for the father,
a tall, stout young man, who looked like a farmer,
told Ford they were from Alsace, and spoke both
tongues.
The child, was it sick ?"
Not so much sick as dying of starvation and
exposure.
Oh, such a sad, pleading look as the poor mother
lifted to the moist eyes of Mrs. Kinzer as the portly
widow bent over the silent boy. Such a pretty
child he must have been, and not over two years
old; but the salt water was in his tangled curls now,
and his poor lips were parted in a weak, sick way,
that spoke of utter exhaustion.
Can anything be done, mother ?"
"Yes, Dabney; you and Ham, and Ford and
Frank, go to the yacht, quick as you can, and bring
the spirit-heater, lamp and all, and bread and milk,
and every dry napkin and towel you can find.
Bring Keziah's shawl."
Such quick time they made across that sand-bar !
And they were none too soon; for, as they came
running down to their boat, a mean, slouching sort
of fellow walked rapidly away from it.
He was going to steal it."
Can't go for him now, Dab; but you '11 have
to mount guard here while we go back with the
things."
He did so, and Ham and Frank and Ford hur-
ried back to the other beach to find that Mrs.
Kinzer had taken complete possession of that baby.
Every rag of his damp things was already stripped


1878.1







DAB KINZER.


off, and now, while Miranda lighted the "heater"
and made some milk hot in a minute, the good
lady began to rub the little sufferer as only a
mother knows how.
Then theie was a warm wrapping up in cloths
and shawls, and better success than anybody had
dreamed of in making the seemingly half-dead
child eat something.
That was about all the matter," said Mrs. Kin-
zer. "Now if we can get him and his mother over
to the house, we can save both of them. Ford, how
long did you say it was since they'd eaten anything?"
About three days, they say."
Mercy on me And that cabin of ours holds
so little Glad it 's full, anyhow. Let 's get it
out and over here at once."
"The cabin?"
No, the provisions."
And not a soul among them all thought of their
own lunch, any more than Mrs. Kinzer herself did;
but Joe and Fuz were not just then among them.
On the contrary, they were over there by the shore,
where the "Jenny" had been pulled up, trying to get
Dab Kinzer to put them on board the Swallow."
Somebody ought to be on board of her," said


,r
I--

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I,


.5


I'
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Is
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"WHOM DO YOU THINK I'VE SEEN TO-DAY?"

Fuz, in as anxious a tone as he could, "with so
many strange people around."
It is n't safe," added Joe.
"Fact," replied Dab; "but then I kind o' like
to feel a little unsafe."
And the Hart boys felt, somehow, that Dab
knew why they were so anxious to go on board,
and they were right enough, for he was saying to
himself at that moment,
"They can wait. They do look hungry, but
they 'll live through it. There aint any cuffs or
collars in Ham's locker."


All there was then in the locker, however, was
soon out of it when Mrs. Kinzer and the rest came,
for they brought with them the officers of the
wrecked bark, and neither Joe nor Fuz had a
chance to so much as help distribute that sup-
ply of provisions. Ham went over to make sure it
should be properly done, while Mrs. Kinzer saw
her little patient with his father and mother safely
stowed on board the Swallow."
I'll save that baby, anyhow," she said to Mi-
randa, and Ford says his father's a farmer. We
can find plenty for 'em to do. They '11 never see
a thing of their baggage, and I guess they had n't
a great deal."
She was just the woman to guess correctly, but
at that moment Dab Kinzer said to Annie Foster
in a low tone:
"Whom do you think I 've seen to-day ?"
"I can't guess. Who was it?"
"The tramp !"
"The same one-
"The very same. There he goes, over the
sand-hill yonder, with old Peter, the wrecker.
We 've got to hurry home now, but I 'm going to
set Ham Morris on his track."
"You never 'll find him again."
Do you s'pose old Peter 'd befriend a man that
did what he did, right on the shore of the bay?
No, indeed, there is n't a fisherman from here to
Montauk that would n't join to hunt him out.
He's safe whenever Ham wants him, if we don't
scare him now."
Don't scare him, then," whispered Annie.
The wind was fair and the home sail of the
" Swallow was really a swift and short one, but it
did seem dreadfully long to her passengers. Mrs.
Kinzer was anxious to see that poor baby safely in
bed. Ham Morris wanted to send a whole load of
refreshments back to the shipwrecked people. Dab
Kinzer could not keep his thoughts from that
" tramp." And then, if the truth must come out,
every soul on board the beautiful little yacht was
getting more and more aware, with every minute
that passed, that they had had a good deal of sea
air and excitement, and a splendid sail across the
bay and back, but no dinner. Not so much as a
herring or a cracker.


CHAPTER XXI.

As FOR the Kinzers, that was by no means their
first experience in such matters, but their friends
had never before been so near to a genuine, out
and out shipwreck. Perhaps, too, they had rarely
if ever felt so very nearly starved. At least Joe
and Fuz Hart remarked as much a score of times


8oo


[OCTOBER,


,






iDAkB KIN ZER.


before the Swallow slipped through the inlet
and made her way toward the landing.
Ham," said Dab Kinzcr. are you going right
back again ?"
Course I am, soon as I can get a load of eata-
bles from the house and the ii .. You'll have
to stay here."
Why can't 1 go with Vou ?'
"Plenty for you to do at the house and around
while I 'm gone. No, you can't go."
Dab seemed to have expected as much, for he
turned to Ford with,
Then I '11 tell you what we must do."
What's that?"
See about the famine. Cain you cook?"
No."
"I can, then. Ham 'll have one half of our
house at work getting his cargo ready, and that
baby '11 fill up the other half."
Mother wont be expecting us so soon, and our
cook's gone out for the day. Annie knows some-
thing."
She can help me. then. Those HIart boys '11
die if they 're not fed. Look at Fuz. Ihy, lhe
can't keep his mouth shut."
Joe and his brother seemed to know, as if by in-
stinct, that the dinner question was under discus-
sion; and they were soon taking their share of talk.
Oh, how they wished it had been a share of some-
thing to eat! The Swallow was moored, now,
after discharging her passengers, but Dab did not
start for the house with his mother and the rest.
He even managed to detain some of the empty
lunch-baskets, large ones, too.
"Come on, Mr. Kinzer," shouted Joe Hart,
let's put for the village. We '11 starve here.''
"A fellow that's starve here just deserves to.
that's all," said Dab. "Ford, there's Bill Lee's
boat and three others coming in. We 're all right.
One of 'em 's a dredger."
Ford and Frank could only guess what their
friend was up to, but Dah was not doing any
guessing.
"Bill," he exclaimed, as Dick's father pulled
within hearing,-" Bill, put a lot of your best pan-
fish in this basket and then go and fetch us some
lobsters. There 's half a dozen in your pot. Did
those others get any luck?"
More clams 'n oysters, responded Bill.
Then we 'll take both lots."
The respect of the city boys for the resources of
the Long Island shore began to rise rapidly a few
minutes later, for not only was one of Dab's bas-
kets promptly provided with "pan-fish," such as
porgies, black fish and perch, but two others re-
ceived all the clams and oysters they were at all
anxious to carry to the house. At the same time,
VOL. V.-53.


Bill Lee offered, as an amendment to the lobster
question,
Ye'r' wrong about the pot. Iab."
"Wrong? Wh--"
Yes, you's wrong. Glorianny 's been an' b'iled
every one on 'em an' they're all nice an' cold by
this time."
"All right. I never eat my lobsters raw. Just
you go and get them, Dick. Bring 'em right over
to Ford's house."
Bill Lee would have sent his house and all on a
suggestion that the Kinzers or Fosters were in need
of it, and Dick would have carried it over for him.
As for Gloriana," when her son came running
in with his errand, she exclaimed:
Dem lobsters? Sho Dem aint good nuff.
Dey sha' n't hab 'em. I '1 jist send de ole man all
'round de bay to git some good ones. On'y dey
is n't no kin' o' lobsters good nuff for some folks,
dey is n't."
Dick insisted, however, and by the time he
reached the back door of the old Kinzer homestead
with his load, that kitchen had become very nearly
as busy a place as Mrs. Miranda Morris's own, a
few rods away.
Ford," suddenly exclaimed Dab, as he finished
scaling a large porgy, what if mother should make
a mistake ?"
i"Make a mistake ? How ?"
Cook that baby It's awful "
Why, its mother's there."
"Yes, but they 've put her to bed, and its
father too. Hey, here come the lobsters. Now,
Ford -"
The rest of what he had to say was given in a
whisper, and was not heard by even Annie Foster,
who was just then looking prettier than ever as she
busied herself around the kitchen fire. As for the
Hart boys, Mrs. Foster had invited them to come
into the parlor and talk with her till dinner should
be ready.
Such a frying and broiling !
Before Ham Morris was ready for his second
start, and right in the midst of his greatest hurry,
word came over from Mrs. Foster that the table
was waiting for them all."
Even Mrs. Kinzer drew a long breath of relief
and satisfaction, for there was nothing more in the
wide world that she could do, just then, for either
that baby" or its unfortunate parents, and she
was beginning to worry about her son-in-law, and
how she should get him to eat something. For
-Ham iMorris had worked himself up into a high
state of excitement in his benevolent haste, and did
not seem to know that he was hungry. Miranda
had entirely sympathized with her husband until
that message came from Mrs. Foster.






DAB K I NZ ER.


"'Oh, Hamilton, and good Mrs. Foster must
have cooked it herself! "
"No," said Ham, thoughtfully; "our Dabney
went home with Ford and Annie. I can't stay but
a minute, but I think we'd better go right over."
Go they did, while the charitable neighbors
whom Ham had stirred up concerning the wreck
attended to the completion of the cargo of the
" Swallow." There would be more than one good
boat ready to accompany her back across the bay,
laden with comforts of all sorts.
Even old Jock, the village tavern-keeper, not by
any means the best man in the world, had come
waddling down to the landing with a demijohn of
"old apple brandy," and his gift had been kindly
accepted by the special advice of the village physi-
cian.
That sort of thing has made plenty of ship-
wrecks around here," remarked the man of medi-
cine ; "and the people on the bar have swallowed
so much salt-water, the apple-jack can't hurt 'em."
May be, the doctor was wrong about it, but the
demijohn went over to the wreck in the Swallow."
Mrs. Foster's dining-room was not a large one.
There were no large rooms in that house. Never-
theless, the entire party managed to gather around
the table,-all except Dab and Ford.
Dab is head cook and I'm head waiter," had
been Ford's explanation, and we can't have any
women folk a-bothering about our kitchen. Frank
and the boys are company."
Certainly the cook had no cause to be ashamed
of his work. The coffee was excellent. The fish
were done to a turn. The oysters, roasted, broiled
or stewed, and likewise the clams, were all that
could have been asked for. Bread there was in
abundance, and everything was going finely till
Mrs. Kinzer asked her son, as his fire-red face
showed itself at the kitchen door :
Dabney, you've not sent in your vegetables;
we 're waiting for them."
Dab's face grew still redder, and he came very
near dropping a plate he had in his hand.
Vegetables ? Oh yes. Well, Ford, we might
as well send them in now. I 've got them all ready."
Annie opened her eyes and looked hard at her
brother, for she knew very well that not so much
as a potato had been thought of in their prepara-
tions. Ford himself looked a little queer, but he
marched out, white apron and all. A minute or so
later, the two boys came in again, each bearing aloft
a huge platter.
One of these was solemnly deposited at each end
of the table.
Vegetables ?"
Why, they're lobsters !
Oh, Ford. how could vou?"


The last exclamation came from Annie Foster as
she clapped her hands over her face. Bright red
were those lobsters, and fine-looking fellows, every
one of them, in spite of Mrs. Lee's poor opinion;
but they were a little too well dressed, even for a
dinner-party. Their thick shoulders were adorned
with collars of the daintiest material and finish,
while every ungainly "flipper" wore a "cuff"
which had been manufactured for very different
uses. Plenty of cuffs and collars, and queer enough
the lobsters looked in them. All the queerer be-
cause every item of lace and linen was variegated
with huge black spots and blotches, as if some one
had begun to wash it in ink.
Joe and Fuz were almost as red as the lobsters,
and Mrs. Foster's face looked as severe as it could,
but that is not saying a great deal. The Kinzer
family knew all about those cuffs and collars, and
Ham Morris and the younger ladies were trying
hard not to laugh.
"Joe," said Fuz, half snappishly, "can't you
take a joke ? Annie 's got the laugh on us this
time."
"I?" exclaimed Annie, indignantly. No,
indeed. That's some of Ford's work and Dabney's.
Mr. Kinzer, I 'm ashamed of you."
Poor Dab !
He muttered something about those being all
the vegetables he had," and retreated to the kitchen.
Joe and Fuz were not the sort to take offense easily,
however, and promptly helped themselves liberally
to lobster. That was all that was necessary to
restore harmony at the table; but Dab's plan for






*--.. ^-----.-- --q,



VEGETABLES ''W" WiHY, THEY'RE LOBSTERS!"

" punishing the Hart boys was a complete failure.
As Ford told him afterward,
"Feel it? Not they. You might as well try to
hurt a clam with a pin."
And I hurt your sister's feelings instead of
theirs," replied Dab. Well, 1 'll never try any-
thing like it again. Anyhow, Joe and Fuz aint
comfortable. They ate too many roasted clams
and too much lobster."

CIIAIPTER XXII.
HAM MORRIS did not linger long at the dinner-
table, and Dab would have given more than ever
for the privilege of going with him. Not that he


[OCTOBER,






DAB K


felt so very charitable, but that he did not care to
prolong his stay at Mrs. Foster's, whether as
"cook" or otherwise. He had not lost his appe-
tite, however, and after he had taken care of that,
he slipped away on an errand for his mother,"
and hurried toward the village. Nearly everybody
he met had some question or other to ask him
about the wreck, and it was not to have been
expected that Jenny WValters would let her old
acquaintance pass her without a word or so.
Dab answered as best he could, considering
the disturbed state of his mind, but he wound up
with :
Jenny, I wish you 'd come over to our house
by and by."
What for?"
Oh, I 've got something to show you. Some-
thing you never saw before."
Do you mean your new baby,-the one you
found on the bar ?"
Yes; but that baby, Jenny !"
What's wonderful about it ?"
Why, it 's only two years old and it can squall
in two languages. That's more 'n you can do."
"They say your friend, Miss Foster, speaks
French," retorted Jenny. Was she ever ship-
wrecked ? "
In French ? May be so. But not in Ger-
man."
Well, Dabney, I don't propose to squall in
anything. Are your folks going to burn any more
of their barns this year?"
Not unless Samantha gets married. Jenny,
do you know what's the latest fashion in lobsters ?"
Changeable green, I suppose."
No ; I mean after they 're boiled. It's to have
'em come on the table in cuffs and collars. Lace
around their necks, you know."
"And gloves?"
No, not any gloves. We had lobsters to-day
at Mrs. Foster's, and you ought to have seen 'em."
Dabney Kinzer, it's time you went to school
again."
I 'm going in a few days."
"Going? Do iou mean you're going away
somewhere ?"
Ever so far. Dick Lee 's going with me."
"I heard about him, but I did n't know he
meant to take you along. That 's very kind of
Dick. I s'pose you wont speak to common people
when you get back."
Now, Jenny- "
Good afternoon, Dabney. Perhaps I '11 come
over before you go, if it's only to see that ship-
wrecked baby."
A good many of Mrs. Kinzer's lady friends,
young and old, deemed it their duty to come and


INZER. 803


do that very thing within the next few days. Then
the Sewing Circle took the matter up, and both the
baby and its mother were provided for as they
never had been before. It would have taken more
languages than two to have expressed the gratitude
of the poor Alsatians. As for the rest of them, out
there on the bar, they were speedily taken off and
carried to the city," none of them being much
the worse for their sufferings, after all. Ham Morris
declared that the family he had brought ashore
"came just in time to help him out with his fall
work, and he did n't see any charity in it."
Good for Ham but Dab Kinzer thought other-
wise when he saw how tired Miranda's husband
was on his late return from his second trip across
the bay. Real charity never cares to see itself too
clearly. They were pretty tired, both of them;
but the Swallow was carefully moored in her
usual berth before they left her. Even then they
had a good load of baskets and things to carry with
them.
Is everything out of the locker, Dab?" asked
Ham Morris.
"All but the jug. I say, did you know it was
half full ? Would it do any hurt to leave it here ?"
"The jug? No. Just pour out the rest of the
apple-jack, over the side."
Make the fish drunk."
'Well, it sha'n't bother anybody else if I can
help it."
"Then, if it's good for water-soaked people, it
wont hurt the fish."
Empty it, Dab, and come on. The doctor
was n't so far wrong, and I was glad to have it with
me; but medicine's medicine, and I only wish
people 'd remember it."
The condemned liquor was already gurgling from
the mouth of the jug into the salt water, and neither
fish nor eel came forward to get a share of it. When
the cork was replaced, the demijohn was set down
again in the "cabin," with no more danger in it for
anybody.
Perhaps that was one reason-that and his weari-
ness-why Ham Morris did not take the pains even
to lock it up.
Dabney was so tired in mind if not in body, that
he postponed until the morrow anything he may
have had to say about the tramp. He was not at
all sure whether the latter had recognized him, and
at all events the matter would have to wait. So it
came to pass that all the village and the shore was
deserted and silent, an hour or so later, when a
stoutly built cat-boat" with her one sail lowered,
was quietly sculled up the inlet. There were two
men on board,-a tall one and a short one,-and
they ran their boat right alongside the Swallow,"
as if that were the very thing they had come to do.







DAB KINZER.


Burgin." remarked the tall man, "' what ef we
don't find anything carter all this sailin' and rowin'?
Most likely he 's kerried it to the house. In course
he has."
The keenly watchful eyes of Burgin had followed
the fortunes of that apple-jack from first to last.
To tell the truth, he had more than half tried to
work himself in as one of the sufferers," but with
no manner of success. He had not failed, however,
to see the coveted treasure stowed away, at last,
under the half-deck of the Swallow." That had
been all the inducement required to get Peter and
his boat across the bay, and the old wrecker"
was as anxious about the result as the tramp him-
self could be. It was hard to say which of them
was first on board the Swallow."

A disappointed and angry pair they were when
the emptyjug was discovered; but Burgin's indigna-
tion was loudest and most abusive. Peter checked
him, at last, with:
Look a yer, my friend, is this 'eie your boat?"
No. I did n't say it was, did I ?"
"Is that there your jug? I don't know 'at I
keer to hev one o' my neighbors abused all night
jest bekase I 've been an' let an entire stranger
make a fool of me."
Do you mean me?"
Well, ef I did n't I would n't say it. Don't
git mad, now. Jest let's take a turn 'round the
village."
You go and I '11 wait for ye. 'Pears like I
don't keer to walk about much."
"Well, then, mind you don't run away with tmy
boat."
If I want a boat, there's plenty here better 'n
your 'n."'
That 's so. I wont be gone a great while."
He was, however, whatever may have been his
errand. Old Peter was not the man to be at any
loss for one, even at that time of night, and his
present business kept him away from the shore a
full hour. When at last he returned he found his
boat safe enough, and so. apparently were all the
others; but he looked around in vain for any signs
of his late companion. Not that he spent much
time or took any great pains in looking, for he
muttered to himself:
Gone, has he? Well then, a good riddance to
bad rubbidge. I aint no angel, but lie 's a long
ways wuss than I am."
Whether or not old Peter was right in his esti-
mate of himself or of Burgin, in a few moments
more he was all alone in his cat-boat, and was scull-
ing it rapidly up the crooked inlet.
His search had been indeed a careless one, for
he had but glanced over the gunwale of the Swal-


low." A second look would have shown him the
form of the tramp, half covered by a loose flap of
the sail, deeply and heavily sleeping at the bottom
of the boat. It was every bit as comfortable a bed
as he had been used to, and there he was still lying,
long after the sun looked in upon him, next morn-
ing.
But other eyes were to look in upon Burgin's face
before he awakened from that untimely and impru-
dent nap.
It was not so very early when Ham Morris and
Dabney Kinzer were stirring again; but they had
both arisen with a strong desire for a talk," and
Ham made an opportunity for one by saying:
Come on, Dab ; let 's go down and have a look
at the Swallow.' "
Ham had meant to talk about school and kindred
matters; but Dabney's first words about the tramp
out off all other subjects.
You ought to have told me." he said. I 'd
have had him tied up in a ininute."
Dabney explained as well as he could, but, be-
fore he had finished, Ham suddenly exclaimed:
There 's Dick Lee on board the 'Swallow.'
What's he there for ?"
Dick! shouted Dabney.
Cap'n Dab, did yo' set dis cer boat to trap
somebody ?"
"No. Why?"
"Well den, you's gone an' cotched unm. Jes
you come an' see."
The sound of Dick Lee's voice, so near them,
reached the dull ears of the slumbering tramp and,
as Ham and Dabney sprang into a yawl and pushed
alongside the yacht, his unpleasant face was slowly
and sleepily lifted above the rail.
'"It 's the very man !" excitedly shouted Dab-
ney.
l"The tramp ?"
Yes, the tramp."
No one would have suspected Ham Morris of so
much agility, although his broad and well-knit
frame promised abundant strength, but he was on
hoard the Swallow like a flash and Burgin was
" pinned by his iron grasp before he could guess
what was coming.
It was too late, then, for any such thing as resist-
ance, and he settled at once into a dogged, sullen
silence, after the ordinary custom of his kind when
they find themselves cornered. It is a species of
brute, animal instinct, more than even cunning,
seemnigly, but not a word did Ham and Dabney
obtain from their prisoner until they delivered him
to the safe keeping of the village authorities. That
done, they went home to breakfast, feeling as if
they had made a good morning's work, but won-
dering what the end of it all would be.


[OCTOBER,







DAB K1NZER.


CHAPTER XXIII.

THE other boys were very much interested in
the story of the tramp, and so was Mr. Foster when
he came home, but poor Annie was a good deal
more troubled than pleased.
Oh, mother," she exclaimed, do you suppose
I '11 have to appear in court as a witness against
him ?"
I hope not, dear. Perhaps your father can
manage to prevent it."
It would not have been easy for even so good a
lawyer as Mr. Foster, if Burgin himself had not
saved them all trouble on that score. Long before
the slow processes of country criminal justice could
bring him to actual trial, so many misdeeds were
brought home to him from here and there, that he
gave the matter up and freely related not only the
manner of the barn-burning, but his revengeful mo-
tive for it. He made his case so very clear that
when, in due course of time, he was brought before
a judge and jury, there was nothing left for him to
do but to plead guilty."
That was some months later, however, and just
at that time the manner of his capture-for the
story of the demijohn leaked out first of all--gave
the village something new to talk about. It was as
good as a temperance lecture in spite of old Jock's
argument that:
You see, boys, good liquor don't do no harm.
That was real good apple-jack, an' it jist toled that
chap across the bay and captured him without no
manner of diffikilty."
There were plenty who could testify to a different
kind of capture."
One effect of the previous day's work, including
his adventures as an ornamental cook, was that Dabl
Kinzer conceived himself bound to be thenceforth
especially polite to Joe and Fuz. The remaining
days of their visit would have been altogether too
few for the various entertainments he laid out for
them.
They were to catch all that was to be caught in
the bay. They were to ride everywhere and see
everything.
"They don't deserve it, D)ab," said Ford; but
you 're a real good fellow. Mother says so."
Does she ?" and Dab evidently felt a good deal
better after that.
Dick Lee, when his friends found time to think
of him, had almost disappeared. Some three days
afterward, while all the rest were out in the
"Jenny," having a good time with their hooks and
lines, Gloriana" made her appearance in Mrs.
Kinzer's dining-room with a face that was darker
than usual with motherly anxiety.
Miss Kinzer, has you seed my Dick dis week?"


No, he has n't been here at all. Anything the
matter with him ?"
"Dat's de berry question. I does n't know wot
to make ob 'im."
Why, is he studying too hard?"
"It aint jist de books. I is n't so much afeard
ob dem, but it's all 'long ob dat 'cad'my. I wish
you 'd jist take a look at 'im, fust chance ye git."
Does he look bad?"
No, taint jist altogeder his looks. He's de bes'
looking' boy 'long shoah. But den de way he's
goin' on to talk. 'T aint natural. He use to talk
fust rate."
Can't he talk now?"
Yes, Miss Kinzer, he kin talk, but den de way
he gits out his words. Nebber seen sech a t'ing in
all my born days. Takes him eber so long jist to
say good-mornin'. An' den he don't say it like he
used ter. I wish you 'd jist take a good look at
'im."
Mrs. Kinzer promised, and gave her black friend
such comfort as she could, but Dick Lee's tongue
would never again be the free and easy thing it had
been. Even at home and about his commonest
" chores," he was all the while struggling with his
pronunciation. If he succeeded as well with the
rest of his schooling," it was safe to say that it
would not be thrown away upon him.
Gloriana went her way, and the next to intrude
upon Mrs. Kinzer's special domain was her son-in-
law himself, accompanied by his rosy bride.
We 've got a plan !"
"You? Aplan? What about?"
Dab and his friends."
"A party !" exclaimed Dab, when his mother
unfolded Ham's plan to him. Ham and Miranda
give a party for us boys Well, now, are n't they
right down good! But, mother, we 'll have to get it
up mighty quick."
"I know, but that's easy enough with all the
help we 'll have. I '11 take care of that."
"But, mother, what can we do ? There 's only
a few know how to dance. I don't, for one."
"You must talk that over with Ford. Perhaps
Annie and Frank can help you."
Great were the consultations and endless were
the plans and propositions, till even Mrs. Kinzer
found her temper getting a little worried over them.
SMiranda," she said, on the morning of the day,
"all the invitations are sent now, and we must get
rid of Dabney and the boys for a few hours."
"Send 'em for some greens to rig the parlor
with," suggested Ham. Let 'cm take the ponies."
Do you think the ponies are safe to drive just
now?"
"Oh, Dab can handle 'em. They 're a trifle
skittish, that 's all. They need a little exercise."







DAB KINZER.


So they did, but it was to be doubted if the best
way to secure it for them was to send them out in
a light, two-seated wagon, with a load of five lively
boys.
Now, don't you let one of the other boys touch
the reins," said Mrs. Kinzer.
Dab's promise to that effect was a hard one to
keep, for Joe and Fuz almost tried to take the
reins away from him before they had driven two
miles from the house. He was firm, however, and
they managed to reach the strip of woodland, some
five miles inland, where they were to gather their
load, without any disaster, but it was evident to
Dab all the way, that his ponies were in unusually
"high condition. He took them out of the
wagon while the rest began to gather their very
liberal harvest of evergreens, and did not bring
them near it again until all was ready for the start
homeward.
"Now, boys," he said, "you get in. Joe and
Ford and Fuz on the back seat to hold the greens.
Frank, get up there, forward, while I hitch the
ponies. These fellows are full of mischief."
Very full, certainly, nor did Dab Kinzer know
exactly what the matter was, for a minute or so
after he seized the reins and sprang up beside
Frank Harley. Then, indeed, as the ponies reared
and kicked and plunged, it seemed to him he saw
something work out from under their collars and
fall to the ground. An acorn-burr is just the thing
to worry a restive horse, if put in such a place, but
Joe and Fuz had hardly expected their "little
joke would be so very successful as it was.
The ponies were off now.
Joe," shouted Fuz, let's jump !"
"Don't let 'em, Ford," exclaimed Dab, giving
his whole energies to the horses. They '11 break
their necks if they do. Hold 'em in !"
Ford, who was in the middle, promptly seized
an arm of each of his panic-stricken cousins, while
Frank clambered over the seat to help him. They
were all down on the bottom now. serving as a
weight to hold the branches, as the light wagon
bounced and rattled along over the smooth, level
road.
In vain Dab pulled and pulled at the ponies. Run
they did, and all he could do was to keep them
fairly in the road.
Bracing strongly back, with the reins wound
around his tough hands, and with a look in his
face that should have given courage even to the
Hart boys, Dab strained at his task as bravely as
he had stood at the tiller of the Swallow in the
storm.
No such thing as stopping them.
And now, as they whirled along, even Dab's
face paled a little.


I must reach the bridge before he does. He 's
just stupid enough to keep right on."
And it was very stupid indeed for the driver of
that one-horse truck wagon" to try and reach
the narrow little unrailed bridge first. It was an
old, used-up sort of a bridge, at best.
Dab loosened the reins a little, but could not use
his whip.
Why can't he stop! "
It was a moment of breathless anxiety, but the
wagoner kept stolidly on. There would be barely
room to pass him on the road itself; none at all on
the narrow bridge.
The ponies did it.
They seemed to put on an extra touch of speed,
on their own account, just then.
There was a rattle, a faint crash, and then, as
the wheels of the two vehicles almost grazed one
another in passing, Ford shouted:
The bridge is down "
Such a narrow escape !
One of the rotten girders, never half strong
enough, had given way under the sudden shock of
the hind wheels and that truck wagon would have
to find its path across the brook as best it could.
There were more wagons to pass as they plunged
forward, and rough places in the road, for Dabney
to look out for, but even Joe and Fuz were now
getting confidence in their driver. Before long,
too, the ponies themselves began to feel that they
had had nearly enough of it. Then it was that
Dab used his whip again, and the streets of the
village were traversed at such a rate as to call for
the disapprobation of all sober-minded people.
Here we are, Ham, greens and all."
"Did they run far?" asked Ham, quietly.


CHAPTER XXIV

THE boys had returned a good deal sooner than
had been expected, but they made no more trou-
ble. As Ford Foster remarked, they were all
willing to go slow for a week after being carried
so very fast by Dab Kinzer's ponies.
There was a great deal to be said about the run-
away, and Mrs. Foster longed to see Dab and thank
him on Ford's account, but he himself had no idea
that he had done anything remarkable, and was
very busily at work decking Miranda's parlors with
the greens."
A very nice appearance they made, all those
woven branches and clustered sprays, when they
were in place, and Samantha declared for them
that,
"They had kept Dab out of mischief all the
afternoon."
At an early hour after supper, the guests began


[OCTOBER,






DAB KINZER.


to arrive, for Mrs. Kinzer was a woman of too much
sense to have night turned into day when she could
prevent it. As the stream of visitors steadily
poured in, Dab remarked to Jenny Walters:
We shall have to enlarge the house after all."
If it were only a dress, now ?"
What then ?"
Why, you could just let out the tucks. I've
had to do that with mine."
"Jenny, shake hands with me."
"What for, Dabney ?"
I 'n so glad to meet somebody else that's out-
growing something."
There was a tinge of color rising in Jenny's face,
but, before she could say anything, Dab added:
There Jenny, there 's Mrs. Foster and Annie.
Is n't she sweet?"
One of the nicest old ladies I ever saw-- "
Oh, I did n't mean her mother."
Never mind. You must introduce me to them."
So I will. Take my arm."
Jenny Waiters had been unusually kindly and
gracious in her manner that evening, and her very
voice had much less than its accustomed sharpness,
but her natural disposition broke out a little some


MAv I IHAVE TIli IIONOR ?

minutes later, while she was talking with Annie.
Said she:
I 've wanted so much to get acquainted with
you."
With me ?"
Yes. I 've seen you in church, and I 've heard
you talked about, and I wanted to find out for
myself."
Find out what?" asked Annie a little soberly.
Why, you see, I don't believe it's possible for
any girl to be as sweet as you look. I could n't, I


know. I've been trying these two days, and I'm
nearly worn out."
Annie's eyes opened wide with surprise, and she
laughed merrily as she answered:
What can you mean ? I 'm glad enough if my
face does n't tell tales of me."
But mine does," said Jenny, "and then I 'm
so sure to tell all the rest with my tongue. I wish
I knew what were your faults."
My faults? What for ? "
I don't know. Seems to me if I could think
of your faults instead of mine, it would n't be so
hard to look sweet."
Annie saw that there was more earnestness than
fun in the queer talk of her new acquaintance.
The truth was that Jenny had been having almost
as hard a struggle with her tongue as ever poor
Dick Lee with his, though not for the same reason.
Before many minutes she had frankly told Annie
all about it, and she could never have done that if
she had not somehow felt that Annie's "sweetness"
was genuine. The two girls were sure friends after
that, much to the surprise of Mr. Dabney Kinzer.
He, indeed, had been too much occupied in
caring for his guests to pay special attention to any
one of them. His mother had looked after him
again and again with eyes brimful of pride and
of commendation of the way he was acquitting him-
self.
Even Mrs. Foster said to her husband, who had
now arrived:
Do you see that ? Who would have expected
as much from a raw, green country boy ?"
"But, my dear, don't you see? The secret of
it is that he's not thinking of himself at all.
He 's only anxious his friends should have a good
time."
That's it; but then that too is a very rare thing
in a boy of his age."
"Dabney !" exclaimed the lawyer in a louder
tone of voice.
Good-evening, Mr. Foster. I 'm glad you 've
found room. The house is n't half large enough."
I understand your ponies ran away with you
to-day ?"
They did come home in a hurry ; but nobody
was hurt."
I fear there would have been, but for you. Do
vou start for Grantley with the other boys to-
morrow ? "
Of course. Dick Lee and 1 need some one to
take care of us. We never traveled so far before."
"On land, you mean. Is Dick here to-night?"
Came and looked in, sir, but got scared by the
crowd and went home."
Poor fellow! Well, we will do all we can for
him."







DAB K INZER .


Poor Dick Lee !
And yet, if Mr. Dabney Kinzer had known his
whereabouts at that very moment he would half
have envied him.
Dick's mother was in the kitchen helping about
the supper, but she had not left home until she had
compelled Dick to dress himself in his best,-white
shirt, red neck-tie, shining shoes and all,-and she
had brought him with her almost by force.
"You's good nuff to go to de 'cad'my and leab
yer pore mother, an' I reckon you 's good nuff for
de party."
And Dick had actually ventured in from the
kitchen through the dining-room and as far as the
door of the back parlor, where few would look.


through the flags and saw the little waves laughing
in the cool, dim starlight, he suddenly stopped
rowing, leaned on his oars, gave a sigh of relief,
and exclaimed:
"Dar I 's safe now. I aint got to say a word
to nobody out yer. Wonder 'f I'll ebbcr git back
from de 'cad'my an' kitch fish in dis ycr bay ? Sho !
Course I will. But going' away 's awful!"
Dab Kinzer thought he had never known Jenny
Walters to appear so well as she looked that even-
ing; and he must have been right, for good Mrs.
Foster said to Annie:
What a pleasant, kindly face your new friend
has You must ask her to come and see us. She
seems quite a favorite with the Kinzers."


SPINNEDU [


How his heart did beat as he looked on the
merry gathering, a large part of whom he had
known "all his born days! "
But there was a side door opening from that
dining-room on the long piazza which Mrs. Kinzer
had added to the old Morris mansion, and Dick's
hand was on the knob of that door almost before he
knew it.
Then he was out on the road to the landing, and
in five minutes more he was vigorously rowing the
SJenny" out through the inlet toward the bay.
His heart was not beating unpleasantly any
longer, hut as he shot out from the narrow passage


Have you known Dabney long?" Annie had
asked of Jenny a little before that.
Ever since I was a little bit of a girl, and a big
boy seven or eight years old pushed me into the
snow."
SWas it)Dabney?"
No, but Dabney was the boy that pushed him
in for doing it, and then helped me up. Dab rubbed
his face for him with snow till he cried."
"'Just like him exclaimed Annie with emphasis.
" I should think his friends here will miss him."
Indeed they will," replied Jenny, and then she
seemed disposed to be quiet for a while.


[OCTOBER,


,I






DAB; KINZER.


The party could not last forever, pleasant as it
was, and by the time his duties as host" were
met, Dabney was tired enough to go to bed and
sleep soundly. His arms were lame and sore from
the strain the ponies had given them, and that may
have been the reason why he dreamed half the
night that he was driving runaway teams and crash-
ing over rickety old bridges.
But why was it that every one of his dream-
wagons, no matter who else was in it, seemed to
have Jenny Walters and Annie Foster smiling at
him from the back seat ?
He rose later than usual next morning, and the
house was all in its customary order by the time he
got down-stairs.
Breakfast was ready also, and, by the time that
was over, Iab's great new trunk was brought down-
stairs by a couple of the farm-hands.
It's an hour yet to train-time," said Ham Mor-
ris ; "but we might as well get ready. We must
be on hand in time."
What a long hour that was, and not even a
chance given for Dab to run down and take a good-
bye look at the Swallow!"
His mother and Ham and Miranda and the girls
seemed to be all made up of '"good-bye" that
morning.
SMother," said Dab.
What is it, my dear boy ?"
That's it exactly. If you say dear boy' again,
Ham Morris 'll have to carry me to the cars. I 'm
all kind o' wilted now."
Then they all laughed, and before they got
through laughing, they all cried except Ham.
He put his hands in his pockets and drew a long
whistle.
The ponies were at the door now. The light
wagon had three seats in it, but when Dab's trunk
was in, there was only room left for the ladies;
Ham and Dab had to walk to the station.
It was a short walk, however, and a silent one,
but as they came in sight of the platform, Dab
exclaimed:
"There they are, all of them !"
The whole party ?"
Why, the platform 's as crowded as our house
was last night."
Mrs. Kinzer and her daughters were already the
center of the crowd of young people, and Ford
Foster and Frank Harley, with Joe and Fuz Hart
were asking what had become of Dab, for the train
was in sight.
A moment later, as the puffing locomotive drew
up by the water-tank, the conductor stepped out
on the platform, exclaiming:
Look a here, folks. This aint right. If there
was going to be a picnic you 'd ought to have sent


word, and I 'd have tacked on an extra car. You '11
have to pack in, now, best you can."
He seemed much relieved when he found how
small a part of the crowd were to be his passengers.
Dab," said Ford, this is your send-off, not
ours. You '1 have to make a speech."
Dab did want to say something, but he had just
kissed his sisters and his mother, and half a dozen
of his school-girl friends had followed the example
of Jenny Walters, and then Mrs. Foster had kissed
him, and Ham Morris had shaken hands with him,
and Dab could not have said a loud word to have
saved his life.
Speech!" whispered Ford, mischievously, as
Dab stepped upon the platform; but Dick Lee,
who had just escaped from the tremendous hug his
mother had given him, came to his friend's aid in
the nick of time. Dick felt that "he must shout,
or he should go off," as he afterward told the boys,
and so at the top of his shrill voice he shouted:
Hurrah for Cap'n Kinzer Dar aint no better
feller lef' along shore !"
And, amid a chorus of cheers and laughter, and
a grand waving of white handkerchiefs, the engine
gave a deep, hysterical cough, and hurried the train
away.
The two homesteads by the Long Island shore
were a little lonely for a while, after the departure
of all those noisy, merry young fellows. Mr. Fos-
ter had enough to do in the city, and Ham Morris
had his farm to attend to, besides doing more than
a little for Mrs. Kinzer. It was much the better
for both estates that he had that notable manager
at his elbow. The ladies, however, old and young,
had plenty of time to come together and wonder
how the boys were getting along, even before the
arrival of the first batch of letters.
They must be happy," remarked kind Mrs.
Foster, after the long, boyish epistles had been
read, over and over; and such good letters Not
one word of complaint of anything."
Mrs. Kinzer assented somewhat thoughtfully.
Dabney had not complained of anything; but while
he had praised the village, the scenery, the acad-
emy, the boys, and had covered two full sheets of
paper, he had not said a word about the table of
his boarding-house.
He is such a growing boy," she said to herself.
"I do hope they will give him enough to cat.'
It went on a good deal in that way, however, for
weeks, even till the Fosters broke up their summer
residence and returned to the city. There were
plenty of letters, and all his sisters wondered where
Dabney had learned to write so capitally; but Mrs.
Kinzer's doubts were by no means removed until
Ham Morris showed her a part of a curious epistle
Dabncy had sent to him in a moment of confidence.


809






WHERE ?


I tell you what, Ham," he wrote, mother
doesn't know what can be done with corn. Mrs.
Myers does. She raised a pile of it last year, and
the things she makes with it would drive a cook-
book crazy. I 've been giving them Latin names.
and Frank, he turns them into Hindustanee. It's
real fun, but I sha' n't be the boy I was. I 'm get-
ting corned. My hair is silkier and my voice is
huskv. My ears are growing. I 'd like some fish
and clams for a change. A crab would taste won-
derfully good. So would some oysters. They
don't have any up here; but we went fishing, last
Saturday, and got some perch and cat-fish and sun-
fish. They call them pumpkin-seeds up here, and
they aint much bigger. Don't tell mother we don't
get enough to eat. There's plenty of it, and you
ought to see Mrs. Myers smile when she passes the
johnny-cake. We are all trying to learn that
heavenly smile. Ford does it best. I think Dick
Lee is getting a little pale. Perhaps corn does n't
agree with him. He 's learning fast, though, and
so am I; but we have to work harder than the rest.
I guess the Hart boys know more than they did
when they came here, and they did n't get it all out
-of their books, either. We keep up our French
and our boxing; but oh, would n't I like to go for
some blue-fish, just now Has mother made any
mince-pies yet ? I 've almost forgotten how they
taste. I was going by a house here the other day
.and I smelt some ham, cooking. I was real glad I
had n't forgotten. I knew what it was right away.
Don't you be afraid about my studying, for I 'm at
it all the while, except when we 're playing ball or
eating corn. They say they have sleighing here


earlier than we do, and plenty of skating. Well,
now, don't say anything to mother about the corn;
but wont I cat when I get home.-Yours all the
while. DABNEY KINZER."

SWhy, the poor fellow !" exclaimed Mrs. Kin-
zer, and it was not very many days after that
before young Iabney received a couple of boxes by
express.
There was a boiled ham in the first one and a
great many other things, and Dab called in all the
other boys to help him get them out.
Mince-pies !" shouted Ford Foster. How 'd
they ever travel so far? "
"They 're not much mashed," said Dabney.
" There 's enough there to start a small hotel.
Now let's open the other."
Ice. Sawdust. Fish, I declare. Clams. Oys-
ters.' Crabs. There 's a lobster. Ford, Frank,
Dick, do you think we can eat those fellows ? "
"After they 're cooked," said Ford.
Well, I s'pose we can; but I feel like shaking
hands with 'em, all round. They 're old friends
and neighbors of mine, you know."
I guess we 'd better eat 'em."
Cap'n Dab," remarked Dick Lee, dey jest
knocks all de correck pronunciation clean out of
me."
Eaten they were, however, and Mrs Myers was
glad enough to have her boarders supply such a
remarkable variety" for her table, which, after
that "hint," began to improve a little.
And so we leave Dab Kinzer, still, in mind and
body, as when first we saw him, a growing boy.


WHERE?

BY MARY N. PRESCOTT.


WHERE does the Winter stay ?
With the little Esquimaux,
Where the frost and snow-flake grow?
Or where the white bergs first come out,
Where icicles make haste to sprout,
Where the winds and storms begin,
Gathering the crops all in,
Among the ice-fields, far away?


Where does the Summer stay?
In distant sunny places,
'Midst palms and dusky faces,
Where they spin the cocoa thread,
Where the generous trees drop bread,
Where the lemon-groves give alms,
And Nature works her daily charms,
Among the rice-fields, far away?


[OCTOBER,






PARLOR MAGIC.


.,.,-'11' -. '' -' .'. \','







PARLOR MAGIC.
(Pleasing, ldarldss, and Inexpesi,,v ExIAerizients, chiiy Cheica, ar YounI g Peofik.)
1\Y LEO H. GRINDON.


THIS series of experiments is designed for the
use of young people who are interested in the won-
ders and the beautiful realities of nature, and who
delight to observe for themselves how curious are
the phenomena revealed by scientific knowledge.
Simple instructions are given for the performance
of a number of pretty experiments, all of which are
perfectly safe, and cost very little money. For
" evenings at home," it is hoped that these experi-
ments will be found indefinitely amusing and recre-
ative, at the same time that they will lead the
minds of boys and girls to inquiries into the entire
fabricc of the grand sciences which explains the
principles on which they are founded. All the
materials spoken of, and all the needful apparatus,
which is of the simplest and most inexpensive
kind, can be obtained at a good chemist's. It is
of the highest importance that all the materials be
pure and good.

PARLOR SUNSHINE.
Obtain a yard of magnesium tape" or mag-
nesium wire," sold very cheap by most druggists.
Cut a length of six or eight inches; bend one ex-
tremity so as to get. a good hold of it with a pair of
forceps, or even a pair of ordinary scissors, or attach
it to the end of a stick or wire. Then hold the
piece of magnesium vertically in a strong flame,
such as that of a candle, and in a few seconds it will
ignite, burning with the splendor of sunshine, and
making night seem noonday. As the burning
proceeds, a quantity of white powder is formed.
This is pure magnesia. While performing this
splendid experiment, the room should be darkened.

CADAVEROUS FACES.
This is an amusing contrast to the lighting-up
by means of magnesium: Again let the room be
nearly darkened. Put about a tea-cupful of
spirits of wine in a strong common dish or
saucer, and place the dish in the middle of the


table. Let every one approach to the distance
of about a yard. Then ignite the spirit with a
match. It will burn with a peculiar yellowish-blue
flame, and in the light of this the human counte-
nances, and all objects of similar color, lose their
natural tint, and look spectral. The contrast of
the wan and ghostly hue with the smiling lips and
white teeth of those who look on, is most amusing.
The effect of this experiment is heightened by dis-
solving some common table-salt in the spirit, and
still further by putting into it a small quantity of
saffron. Let the spirit burn itself away.

THE BREATH OF LIFE.
Procure a tolerably large bell-glass, such as is
used for covering clocks and ornaments upon the















,




THE BREATH OF LIFE.

mantel-piece. It should not be less than eighteen
inches high, and eight or nine inches in diameter.
Provide also a common dish, sufficiently large to
allow the bell-glass to stand well within its raised
border. Then procure two little wax candles, three


811







PAR LOR MAGIC.


or four inches in length, and stand each in a little
bottle or other temporary candlestick. Place them
in the center of the dish and light the wicks. Then
pour water into the dish to the depth of nearly an
inch, and finish by placing the bell over the can-
dles, which of course are then closely shut in. For
a few minutes all goes on properly. The flames
burn steadily, and seem to laugh at the idea of
their being about to die. But, presently, they
become faint,-first one, then the other; the luster
and the size of the flames diminish rapidly, and
then they go out. This is because the burning
candles consumed all the oxygen that was contained
within the volume of atmosphere that was in the
bell, and were unable, on account of the water, to
get new supplies from outside. It illustrates, in
the most perfect manner, our own need of constant
supplies of good fresh air. The experiment may
be improved, or at all events varied, by using can-
dles of different lengths.

ROSE-COLOR PRODUCED FROM GREEN.
Obtain a small quantity of roseine,-one of the
wonderful products obtained from gas-tar, and em-
ployed extensively in producing what are called by
manufacturers the magenta colors." Roseine
exists in the shape of minute crystals, resembling
those of sugar. They are hard and dry, and of the
most brilliant emerald green. Drop five or six of
these little crystals into a large glass of limpid
water. They will dissolve; but instead of giving
a green solution, the product is an exquisite crim-
son-rose color, the color seeming to trickle from
the surface of the water downward. When the
solution has proceeded for a short time, stir the water
with a glass rod, and the uncolored portion of it
will become carmine.

SoMIE ELIECTRICAI. EXPERIMENTS.
Take a piece of common brown paper, about a
foot in length, and half as wide. Hold it before
the fire till it becomes quite hot. Then draw it
briskly under your left arm several times, so as to
rub it on both surfaces against the woolen cloth of
your coat. It will now have become so powerfully
electrified, that if placed against the papered wall
of the parlor, it will hold on for some time, sup-
ported, as it were, by nothing.
While the piece of brown paper is thus so
strangely clinging to the wall, place a small, light,
and fleecy feather against it, and this, in turn, will
cling to the paper.
Now, again, make your piece of brown paper hot
by the fire, and draw it, as before, several times
under the arm. Previously to this, attach a string
to one corner, so that it may be held up in the air.
Several feathers, of a fleecy kind, may now be


placed against each side of the paper, and they will
cling to it for several minutes.
Another curious electrical experiment is to take a
pane of common glass, make it warm by the fire,
then lay it upon two books, allowing only the edges
to touch the books, and rub the upper surface with
a piece of flannel, or a piece of black silk. Have
some bran ready, strew it upon the table under the
piece of glass, and the particles will dance.

To CUT A PHIAL IN HALF.
Wind round it two bands of paper, correspond,
ing in position to the two temperate zones of the
earth, leaving a space between, corresponding to
the equatorial zone. Secure the two bands of
paper with thread or fine twine. Then wind a long
piece of string once around the equatorial space. Let
an assistant hold one end of the string, and while
holding the other end yourself, move the phial
rapidly to and fro, so that the string shall work
upon the glass between the two pieces of paper.
When the glass becomes hot in the equatorial
space, pour some cold water upon it, and the glass
will break as evenly as if cut with a knife.
The principle involved in this curious experiment
may be applied to the removal of a glass stopper,
when too tight in the neck of the bottle for the
fingers to stir it. All that is necessary is to wind a
piece of thick string round the neck of the bottle,


IiT


4.



CUTTING THLE PHIAL.

get an assistant to hold one end, and then work the
bottle to and fro. The glass of the neck will be-
come so warm as to expand, and the stopper will
become loosened. It is often necessary to continue
this friction for some minutes before the desired
result is attained.


[OcTOBER,


IV, _F .- 1







PARLOR MAGIC.


THE INVISIB1,F RENDERED VISIBLE.
Place a coin in an empty basin, and let the basin
be near the edge of the table. Ask one of the
company to stand beside it. and to retire slowlv


N---


SliHE OIN I vVIlil..


.--


THIE COIN VISIBLE.

backward until he or she can no longer see the
coin. Then pour cold, clear water into the basin,
and the person, who the moment before could not
perceive the coin, nowx will see it quite plainly,
'1.... _1, without moving a hair's breadth nearer.

LIGHT FROM SUGAR.
In a dark room, rub smartly one against the
other, a couple of lumps of white sugar, and light
will be evolved. A similar effect is produced by
rubbing two lumps of borate of soda one against
the other.
MINIATURE FIR E-SH IPS.
Procure a good-sized lump of camphor. Cut it
up into pieces of the size of a hazel-nut, and having
a large dish filled with cold water in readiness, lay
the pieces on the surface, where they will float.
Then ignite each one of them with a match, and
they will'burn furiously, swimming about all the
time that the burning is in progress, until at last
nothing remains but a thin shell, too wet to be con-
sumed.
PtIPl'I: AIR.
Obtain an olive-oil flask, the glass of which must
be colorless. In default of an oil-flask, a large
test-tube may be employed. Put into it a small
quantity of solid iodine (procurable at the chemist's
and very cheap), then lightly stop the mouth of the
flask or test-tube with some cotton-wool, but not


.1


-c~
~sa~


hermetically, and hold it slantwise over the flame
of a spirit-lamp. The heat will soon dissolve the
iodine, which will next turn into a most beautiful
violet-colored vapor, completely filling the glass,
and disappearing again as the glass gets cold.

THE TWO EGGS.
Dissolve as much common table-salt in a pint of
water as it will take up, so as to prepare a strong
brine. With this brine half fill a tall glass. Then
pour in pure water, very carefully. Pour it down
the side, or put it in with the help of a spoon, so as
to break the fall. The pure water will then float
upon the top of the brine, yet no difference will be
visible. Next, take another glass of exactly the
same kind, and fill it with pure water. Now take
a common egg, and put it into the vessel of pure
water, when it will instantly sink to the bottom.
Put another egg into the first glass, and it will not
descend below the surface of the brine, seeming to
be miraculously suspended in the middle. Of course
the two glass vessels should be considerably wider
than the egg is long.

THE MAGIC APERTURE.
Put several lighted candles upon the table, in a
straight row and near together. Lay upon the
table, in front of them, a large piece of smooth,
white paper. Have ready a piece of pasteboard,
large enough to conceal the candles, with a small
hole cut in it above the middle. Place this so as



--- -







:5 --


r,--,;m~---


TIE MAGIC AIPEL'I URE.

to stand upon its edge between the row of candles
and the sheet of paper in front, and there will be
as many images of flames thrown through the hole
and upon the paper as there are burning candles.

GRE N FIRE.
Obtain some boracic acid, mix it well with a
small quantity of spirits of wine, or alcohol, place
the alcohol in a saucer upon a dish, and then ignite
it with a match. The flame will be a beautiful







PARLOR MAGIC.


green. To see the color to perfection, of course,
the room should be somewhat darkened.
A green flame may also be produced by using
chloride of copper instead of boracic acid. And
instead of mixing it with the alcohol, a small quan-
tity may be imbedded in the wick of a candle.

A BEAUTIFUL IMITATION OF HOAR-FROST.
Obtain a large bell-glass, with a short neck and
cork at the top, such as may be seen in the chem-
ists' shops. Then procure a small quantity of ben-


To BOIL WATER WITHOUT FIRE.
Half fill a common oil-flask with water, and boil
it for a few minutes over the flame of a spirit-lamp.
While boiling, cork up the mouth of the flask as
quickly as you can, and tie a bit of wet bladder
over the cork, so as to exclude the air perfectly.
The flask being now removed from the lamp, the
boiling ceases. Pour some cold water upon the
upper portion of the flask, and the ebullition recom-
mences! Apply hot water, and it stops! And
thus you may go on as long as you please.


/.
L /7


IMITATING IIOAR-FROST.


zoic acid, which exists in the shape of snowy crystals.
Elevate the bell-glass upon a little stage made of
books or pieces of wood, so as to allow a spirit-
lamp to be introduced underneath, and a little
evaporating dish to be held above the flame by
means of a ring of wire with suitable handle. Place
the benzoic acid in the evaporating dish, over the
flame, and presently the acid will ascend in vapor
and fill the bell, which must not be quite closed at
the top. Before setting up the apparatus, intro-
duce into the bell a small branch of foliage, which
may be hung by a thread from the neck of the bell.
The stiffer and more delicate this branch, the bet-
ter. In a short time, it will become covered with a
soft white deposit of the acid, very closely rescim-
bling hoar-frost. This rmakcs an extremely pretty
ornament for the parlor.


TO CONVERT A LIQUID INTO A SOLID.
Dissolve about half a pound of sulphate of soda in
a pint of boiling water, and after it has stood a few
minutes to settle, pour it off into a clean glass ves-
sel. Pour a little sweet oil upon the surface, and
put it to stand where it can get cold, and where no
one will touch it. When cold, put in a stick, and
the fluid, previously clear, will at once become
opaque, and begin to crystallize, until at length there
is a solid crystalline mass.
ICE ON FIRI.
Make a hole in a block of ice with a hot poker.
Pour out the water, and fill up the cavity with cam-
phorated spirits of wine. Then ignite the spirit
with a match, and the lump of ice will seem to be
in flames.


[OCTOBER,






PARLOR


EXPERIMENTS REQ(UIRIN( CHEMICAL SOLU-
TIONS.
To prepare these solutions, purchase of a drug-
gist a small quantity of the solid crystals of the
substance needed for the experiment you wish to
try. Dissolve the crystals in clear pure water, and
keep the solution in a little bottle, labeled with the
name. It is seldom that the solutions need be
strong. When the crystal is a colored one, enough
should be used to give the water a light tint, blue,
yellow, or what it may be. None of these solutions
will do any harm to the hands, unless there is a
cut or a wound of any kind upon the skin. It
is well also, not to let a drop of any of them fall
upon the clothes, or upon furniture, for some of
them will stain. And none of them should ever
be tasted, or touched by the lips or tongue, many
of them being acrid and even poisonous.
With the acids still greater care is needed, the
stronger acids being corrosive and poisonous. The
greater portion of these substances must likewise
not be smelled, as the fumes or vapors would affect
the nostrils painfully.
For the proper performance of these experiments
with solutions, etc.,-at all events for the neatest
and most elegant performance of them,-there
should be obtained from the chemist's shop about
a dozen test-tubes. These are little glass vessels,
manufactured on purpose, and very cheap. Do not
take glasses that may afterward be used for drink-
ing or household purposes. Be careful to have
every one of your experiment glasses perfectly clean.

To produce a B'eautliful ViTolet-Purfle Color.
Take a nearly colorless solution of any salt of
copper. The sulphate is the cheapest and handiest.
Fill the test-tube or other experimenting-glass
about two-thirds full. Then drop in, slowly, a lit-
tle liquid ammonia. It will cause a beautiful blue
to appear, and presently a most lovely violet-purple,
which, by stirring with a glass rod, extends all
through the fluid.
If now you drop into this a very little nitric acid,
the fluid will again become as clear as pure water.

To lMaklae a .Splendid Scarlet.
Again take some solution of sulphate of copper.
Add to it a little solution of bichromate of potash.
Then add a little solution of nitrate of silver, and
there is produced a splendid scarlet color.

To Make a Dec Blue.
Now, take a nearly colorless solution of sulphate
of iron, and drop into it, slowly, a small quantity
of solution of yellow prussiate of potash. This will
induce a beautiful deep blue, quite different from
the blues that are produced from copper salts.


MAGIC. 815


To Make a Yellow Color.
Take a solution of acetate of lead, and add a few
drops of solution of iodide of potassium, and a
most lovely canary-yellow color is produced.

Invisible Inks.
Nearly all those experiments which result in the
production of color may be performed in another
way, and be then applied to the purposes of secret
writing. Thus:
Write with dilute solution of sulphate of copper.
The writing will be quite invisible, but become blue
when held over the vapor of liquid ammonia.
Write with the same solution, and wash the
paper with solution of yellow prussiate of potash,
and the writing, previously invisible, will become
brown. If you choose you may reverse this method,
writing with solution of the prussiate of potash, and
washing the paper with solution of the copper salt.
Write with solution of sulphate of iron, and the
writing will again be invisible. Wash it over with
tincture of galls, and it becomes black.
Write with sulphate of iron, and use a wash of
yellow prussiate of potash, and the writing will
come out blue. This experiment may likewise be
reversed, and with similar result.

How to Coffer a iKif'e-Blade.
Make a rather strong solution of sulphate of cop-
per. Let a clean and polished piece of steel or iron,
such as the blade of a knife, stand in it for a few
minutes, and the iron will become covered or en-
crusted with a deposit of pure copper.


To Make Beautiful OCystals.
Dissolve, in different vessels, half an ounce each
of the sulphates of iron, zinc, copper, soda, alumina,
magnesia, and potash. The solutions can be made
more rapidly by using warm water. When the
salts are all completely dissolved, pour the whole
seven solutions into a large dish, stir the mixture
with a glass rod, then place it in a warm place,
where it will not be disturbed. By degrees, the water
will evaporate, and then the salts will re-crystallize,
each kind preserving its own.proper form and color.
Some occur in groups, some as single crystals. If
carefully protected from dust, these form extremely
pretty ornaments for the parlor.

Alt n Baskets.
These may be prepared by dissolving alum in
water in such quantity that at last the water can
take up no more, and the undissolved alum lies at
the bottom of the vessel. The solution thus ob-
tained is called a saturated one. Then procure a
common ornamental wire basket, and suspend it







UN ALPHABET FRAN(AIS.


in the solution, so as to be well covered in every
part. There should be twice as much solution as
will cover the basket. The wires of the basket
should be wound with worsted, so that the surface
may be rough. Leave it undisturbed in the solu-
tion, and gradually the crystals will form all over
the surface. Before putting in the basket, it is best
to further strengthen the solution by boiling it down
to one half, after which it should be strained.


The Lead- Tree.
Dissolve half an ounce of acetate of lead in six
ounces of water. The solution will be turbid, so
clarify it with a few drops of acetic acid. Now put
the solution into a clean phial, nearly filling the
phial. Suspend in the solution, by means of a thread
attached to the cork. a piece of clean zinc wire.
By degrees, the wire will become covered with beau-
tiful metallic spangles, like the foliage of a tree.


UN ALPHABET FRANGAIS.

PAR LAURA CAxXTON.


SIi




1. -


4


A-ANNETTE A UN TRIES JOLI PETIT
AGNEAU,


-4~P

-BAPTISTE A UNE PAIRE DE GRANDES
BOTTLES


C-CECILE EST CHIA
SON CERCEAIU.


RMIF Di FAIR ROULER


-DENIS I'LICR 'IPACEQU'I[ A MAL AIX
DENTS.


[OCTOBER,







UN ALPHABET


FRAN AIS.


ri /


I 0
AVC SES LIVES.


I 'I

III






II;


I'i







II


G' _-*1 1 """"^" .._ :.






-GABRIELLE A ETR GRONDEP PAR SON
G GRAND-PIRE


-FANCHION FAIT UNE CRAVATE POUR SON
FRERE.




L-- -- ,


4











-HENRI VA PATINER SUR LA GLACE
PENDANT L'HIVER.


I i


I-ISABELLE EST UNE PAUVRE PETITE I'N-
VALIDE.
VOt. V.-54-


-JACQUES S'AMUSE TOUTED LA JOURNEY
AVEC SES JOUJOUX.


817








UN ALPHABET FRAN9AIS.


-'_-












--K EST LA LETTRE QUE JEAN TIENT
SOUS LA MAIN.


M--MARIE A DES MARGUERITES POUR SA
CHERE MAIIAN.


--OLIVIER, AVEC SON PARAPLUIE, N'A
PAS PEUR DE L'IORAGE.


,7 1.-


*;' J _s -- "_ ---. _-r.. %-ad



-LOUISE DONE DES LEGUMES A SES
PETITS LAPINS,


,'- t




N-NARCISSE A TROUVA DES OISEAUX DANS
UN NID.


Fig

-PAULINE A BEAUCOUP DE PLAISIR AVEC
'A PETITE POUPEE.


[OCTOBER,


-








UN ALPHABET FRAN(;AIS.


I.r
-r.
;,.- ~bnj~:l
E ..~ ?_LLCTI
~~iPi~c~l

i-~


N.


Q-QUENTIN AIME A JOUER AUX QUILLES
DE BOIS.


--SUSETTE A UN MORCEAU DE SUCRE
FOUR SON SERIN.


-


U-URBAIN A LE DRAPEAU DES TATS-
UNIS.


-ROLAND REMPLIT UN POT POUR Y
PLANTER SON ROSIER.


--THI RSE EST TRISTE
TABLIER iST SALE.


PARCEQUE SON


- i 1. ,










-t


V -, iRllNIE A-K'OS I SES VIU LETTERS
CHAQUE MATIN T CHAQUE SOIR.






A FAIR EXCHANGE.


,I : r -


^- -I !I' J


- -




W-WINIFRED EST AtMERICAINE, ELLE
N'EST PAS UNE PETITE FRAN5AISE.


.i a,
,jt^. ti








- fI



N44- [ *-k


-'S
~ 7*Y


.5
XI-


VI!1


A FAIR EXCHANGE.

BY MRS. M. F. BUTTS.


" OH, Willow, where did you get your fringe,
In New York or in Paris?
Tell me, and I will get some too,
Because I am an heiress;
And I buy me everything I want;
I have a ring and a feather;
I promenade in my white kid boots
Each day in pleasant weather."


'Oh, little one, where did you get the pink,
In your pretty, round cheek glowing?
And where did you get the yellow curls,
Over your shoulders flowing ?
Perhaps you can tell me how they are made;
If you think so, darling, try it;
And when you succeed, I'll tell you about
My fringe, and where to buy it."


[OcTOBER,









, / 1 ,



-" r


--XI'NOPIHON EST LE GCNIPRAL RENOMML
A QUI PAUL CROIT RESSEMBLER.


Y-Y -T-IL UNE AUTRE PFEl IE FILLE DE
SI JOLIS YEUX ?


Z-ZENOBIE SAIT
Z RO.


COMPUTER D'UN JUSQU'A







1878. "CHAIRS TO MEND!" 821


HOW TEDDY CUT THE PIE.
(A Geometrical Jingle.)

BY ROSSITER JOHNSON.


TEDDY, Jimmy, Frank, and I
Fished all day for smallest fry,
And as evening shades drew nigh,
Stopped to see if we could buy,
At a road-side groce-ry,
Anything they called a pie.

There was one, and only one,
Deeply filled and brownly done,
Warm from standing in the sun,
Flanked on each side by a bun,
Since that summer day begun.

From the window it was brought,
With our pennies it was bought;
Then a knife was quickly sought-
Who would cut it as he ought?

"Leave it all," says Ted, "to me,"
As the knife he flourished free;
"I have cut a great ma-ny."

"But," says Frank, who feared our fate,
"Will you cut it fair and straight?"
"Straight?" says Ted. "I'll tell you what-
Straighter than a rifle-shot:
Straighter than the eagle's flight,
Straight as any ray of light."

"I will mark the place," says Jim-
Great exactness was his whim-





"CHAIRS TO


And he measured, on the rim,
Starting-points, as guides for him.

Ted put in the knife with glee;
First he cut from A to B !


Then he cut from C to D !!
Then he took the piece marked E!!

Every cut was straight, he said,-
He would bet his curly head.
Such a perfect, born-and-bred
Geometric rogue was Ted.





MEN !"


BY ALEIXAN)ER WAINWRIGHT.


THE art of doing small things well has a good
illustration in the humble chair-mender of the Lon-
don streets, who is also one of the most interesting
of out-door tradesmen.
He carries all his implements and materials with
him. A very much worn chair is thrown over one
arm as an advertisement of his occupation, and it
is needed, for his cry, Cha-ir-s to men-n-nd."
is uttered in a melancholy and indistinct, though
penetrating, tone. Under the other arm he usually
has a bundle of cane, split into narrow ribbons.


His look is that of forlorn respectability; his hat
is greasy, and mapped with so many veins, caused by
crushing, that it might have been used as a chair
or, at least, a foot-stool; around his neck he wears
a heavy cloth kerchief, and his long coat of by-gone
fashion reaches nearly to the ankles, which are
covered by shabby gaiters. He walks along at a
very gentle pace and scans the windows of the
houses for some sign that his services are wanted.
Perhaps business is dull, but in the neighbor-
hoods where there are plenty of children he is








"CH~IRS TO MEND [OCTOBER,


"CHAIRS TO MEND!"

pretty sure to find some work. Cane-seated chairs step-ladders and stamp upon them. It often hap-
are durable, but they will not stand the rough usage pens that a neat English house-maid appears at the
of those little boys and girls who treat them as area railings with a chair that has a big, ragged


CHAIRSS TO MTEND 1"


[OCTOBER,







TWO KITTIES. 823


hole in the seat, through which Master Tommy has
fallen, with his boots on, in an effort to reach the
gooseberry jam on the pantry shelf.
Master Tommy probably looks on while the
repairs are being made, and is much interested by
the dexterity with which the mender does his work.
The old and broken canes are cut away, and the
new strips are woven into a firm fabric, with little
eight-sided openings left in it. The overlap-
ping ends of the ribbons are trimmed with a sharp
knife, and the chair-seat is as good as new.
It seems so easy that Tommy thinks he could
have done it himself; but when he experiments


with a slip of cane that the mender gives him, he
finds that chair-mending is really a trade that must
be learned.
Some chair-menders are blind men, and it is still
more interesting to watch them at their work. The
plaiting of the canes is done as unerringly by their
unseeing fingers as by the men who can see, and
with wonderful quickness. Occasionally the business
is combined with that of basket-making, and should
we follow poor old Chairs-to-mend" home, we
might discover his family busy weaving reeds and
willowy branches with the same cleverness the
father shows in handling the canes.


TWO KITTIES.

BY JoY ALLISON.


:, ''I
Si.


Two little kitties
Wandered away
Into the prairie
One summer day.
One on two feet,
Rosy and fair,
Almost a baby,-
Golden Hair."


Four feet,-useless,
Eyes fast closed,
Borne in a basket
The other dozed.
Searching in terror
Far and wide,
" Golden Hair's mother
Moaned and cried.


Mother Puss calmly
Following slow,
Listening,-calling
Meoh !-Meoh -
Mother Puss found them,
A little heap,
Down in the deep grass
Fast asleep.


823


TWO KITTIES.


.; '- .- ,,






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


" HAR1.- .\Nl 1 11- NDN s.'


S\V i .'. i il l .-.- t .- i ..l h i lr n

F .',t[,'.: ._pr,-:l L ,_i!. l ': _.rlil l, -_


! i, .i,


ii 'C .[I 'irE


r. Jr.


'r
.*<'* '


F r. n kl.:, Vi ,- l : n,:,. ,:, l.. --I,,,:. -u ,,. ., ,i ,,.ls
, it : -:. ,,,1:. u -r' f' -' -1 t ,- n-, I i,_,,,L-,.I-."
" L ,...', ri .I r_ th j- l lr, ._.!" ,.,p tht,. -L.t ;',
Here and there, and everywhere,
You must follow, for I 'm the Hare "
Lulu and Carrie gave quick consent,
And at cutting their papers and capers went,


- 'rw ~


A l [


II


Ii


[OCTOBER,


o., -.,..*
S I',:I:





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.


For the stairs were steep, and they must not fail
To have enough for a good long trail.
Away went the Hare
Right up the stair,
And away went the Hounds, a laughing pair;
And Tony, who sat
Near Kitty, the cat,
And was really a dog worth looking at,
With a queer grimace
Soon joined the race,
And followed the game at a lively pace!
Then Puss, who knew
A thing or two,
Prepared to follow the noisy crew,
And never before or since, I ween,
Was ever beheld such a hunting scene!
The Hare was swift; and the papers went
This way and that, to confuse the scent;
But Tony, keeping his nose in air,
In a very few moments betrayed the Hare,
Which the children told him was hardly fair.

I cannot tell you how long they played,
Of the fun they had, or the noise they made;
For the best of things in this world, I think,
Can ne'er be written with pen and ink.
But Bridget, who went on her daily rounds,
Picking up after the Hare and Hounds,"
Said she did n't mind hearing their lively capers,
But her back was broke with the scraps o' papers.

Carrie, next day, could n't raise her head;
Frank and Lulu were sick in bed;
The dog and cat were a used-up pair,
And all of them needed the doctor's care.
The children themselves can hardly fail
To tack a moral upon this trail;
And I guess on rather more level grounds
They 'll play their next game of Hare and Hounds."


825






JACK- IN -THE-PULPIT,


j i 6 CK- I IN T HE I'U LI'I T.


So, HERE 'S October come again. Another
pleasant year gone by, another lot of sermons
done, and nobody the worse Dear, dear, how
time does fly in cheerful company, to be sure !
Well, my dears, keep a bright lookout for the
new volume, and, meantime, don't open your eyes
too wide while I bring to your notice

THE LARGEST MAN.
Albany, N. Y.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Perhaps some of your other boys,
who, like myself, wish to grow big and strong, would like to hear
about the largest human being ever known,-Goliath of Gath,-a
person ,tl t l-- enough to need introduction by installments, but
he is so .ii I1 that the ceremony is needless.
As nearly as I 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 pounds,-as heavy as a good-sized man; and
the rest of his armor amounted to at least one hundred and fifteen
pounds more. The head of hibr pr -.i-7h-^ -~ighteen pounds,-as
heavy as six three-pound cans I .: 1 ...',-and this he carried
at the end of a long and heavy shaft I
Think what might happen if a man equally big and strong should
live among us now, and insist on taking part in our games and sports ?
If he joined a boat-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, wouldn'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-
ng all the same, to yours sincerely, R. V. D.

CATCHING BIRDS ON THE WING.
As IF a man could ever hope to do that, or even
to do so much as fly And yet, word has already
come to me of a man who has made a machine with
which he actually has flown, up, down, with the
wind, against the wind, and, in fact, any way he
wished !
The particular machine he used looked, I 'm
told, rather like a big bolster-case blown full of air,
and with a light frame-work of hollow brass tubes
strapped to it underneath. In this frame-work was
a seat for the man, and near him were two circular


fans, which he turned round very fast indeed; one
of the fans made the machine fly backward or for-
ward, and the other made it go up or down, as he
liked.
Now, this certainly seems to be a step ahead, or,
rather, a flap upward; but you need n't expect to
be chasing and catching eagles and albatrosses on
the wing by dropping salt on their tails; at least,
not just yet, my dears. The time for that sort of
fun may come, perhaps; but it would be well not
to crow too loudly at present.

THE BEE AND THE ANEMONE.
Des Moines, Iowa.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PuLPIT: The bee you told us of in your August
sermon did not mistake the anemone for a flower. At least, I think
not. No bee ever makes such a mistake as to settle on a poisonous
flower, and I believe that this bee went to the anemone for water and
not for honey. Bees will settle on pieces of straw afloat in the water,
when seeking for water, and I believe they know, even while on the
wing, where to find honey. Good-bye.-Your friend. N. E. 1H.

FRANGIPANI SCENT AND PUDDINGS.
"LET's begin with the puddings, and make
sure of them," as a little boy once remarked. Well,
then, in former times, Frangipani puddings were
of broken bread, and their queer name is made
from two words, -frangi, meaning to break," and
panus, bread "; but, after some time, these pud-
dings were made with pastry-crust and contained
cream and almonds.
Frangipani scent, however, was named after a
great marquis who first made it, getting it from the
jasmine plant. And the marquis got his name
from an ancestor whose duty it had been to break
the holy bread or wafer in one of the church ser-
vices, and who on that account was called Frangi-
pani," or Breaker of Bread."
Now, this way of explaining how words come to
be formed, sounds well enough, no doubt. But how
are we to know, in this case, that the marquis
did n't invent the pudding as well as the scent?
However, I must leave you to puzzle out the prob-
lem for yourselves, my dears, while I give you some
information about
A SEALED POSTMAN.
YOU'VE all heard of sealed letters, of course, and
seen some, too, no doubt; but did you ever hear of
the letter-carrier, also, being sealed ? Well, a bit of
news has come saying that, among the Himalaya
Mountains, the men who carry the mails on horse-
back are sealed to their saddles, in such a way that
while they can ride easily enough they cannot get
down from their seats; and, what is more, the mail-
packages are sealed to the men Once started on
the route, the seals are not allowed to be broken,
except by the postmaster at the next station, and,
if they happen to get broken otherwise than by
accident, the carrier is severely punished.
The result of this sealing is that a mail-carrier
who wishes to steal the letters in his charge is
obliged to steal also the saddle and horse,-and
himself as well, I suppose.
Nice places these carriers have to ride through,
at times Why, in some parts, the road is so
steep that, in going down, the rider is kept upright


[OcTOBER,







JACK -IN-THE-PULPIT.


by a rope passed under his arms and held in the
hands of two men who are above him on the
mountain. If it were not for this, the rider would
fall over the head of his horse, or else cause the
horse itself to go over head first.
Altogether, the postmen of the Himalayas must
have a hard time of it.

WIND-HARPS.
East Saginaw, Mich.
DEAR JACK-IN-TIHE-PI:LIT: Please will you or any of your
"chicks" tell me how to make a wind-harp, or Eolian harp?
Your friend, MINNIEt WARNED.
Time and again have I heard tell of wind-harps
and the sweet music the wind coaxes out of them.
The sighing and singing of the breezes through the
tree-tops must be something like it, no doubt. But
I never heard a wind-harp's song, and of course
don't know how to make one. Perhaps, some of
you know, however, and if so I shall be obliged if
you will send me word, so that I can pass it on to
Minnie and the rest of my chicks.

"THE JOY OF THE DESERT."

IN Africa is a vast, dreary waste, called the
Desert of Sahara. In widely scattered spots of this
desert there grows a tree that sends its roots down
to springs far beneath the parched ground. Some-
times these springs are so far down that the trees
are planted in deep holes, something like wells, so
that the roots may reach water. Hardly anything
except this tree can grow in that desert.
The fruit of the tree is delicious food; the long
trunk makes poles for tents; the leaf-stalks make
many kinds of basket and wicker work, walking-









r
-..-



-2--
S =.- -. :- -- --S '-^-- ---


sticks and fans; the leaves themselves are made
into bags and mats ; and the fibers at the base of the
leaf-stalks are twisted into cordage for tents and
harness. The sap of the tree, drawn from a deep
cut in the trunk near the top, after standing a few
days, becomes a sweet and pleasant liquor. Cakes
of the fruit pounded and kneaded together so
solid as to be cut with a hatchet," are carried by
travelers going across the terrible desert.
Besides all this, trees of this kind, planted in
groups, cast a shade which keeps the ground moist,
so that other fruit-trees can live beneath them.
When the tree is about one hundred years old, it


ceases to bear fruit, and is cut down for timber;
but in its long life it has made its owner rich and
a great many people comfortable.
The paragram which told me all this said, further,
that this tree is the date-palm, and is called The
Joy of the Desert." Well may it be so called, I
should think; though once I heard some of the
children of the red school-house say they hated
"dates." Perhaps they meant "dates" of some
other kind.
BABIES IN BOOTS.
WHERE do you suppose Tartar mothers carry
their little children ?
Not on their shoulders, nor on their hips, nor in
their arms, nor at their backs, nor on their heads.
Well, I 'm told they carry them in their boots!
These are made of cloth, and each is large enough
to hold a child five years old !

ROOK COURTS AND BLACKBIRD POWWOWS.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PuLPIT: In England, where I come from, I
have seer. .... of vast numbers of birds, though never as many
of such .." I inds as those named by Z. R. B. in the letter
which you gave us in July. Sometimes, a great number of rooks
gather in a ring, and in the center of it is one lonely, dejected-look-
ing rook, who holds his head down in silence. The other rooks
seem to hold a consultation, .'. : and cawing back and forth,
sometimes one alone and son..,,-.. .ii together, until they seem to
decide what to do.
Then three or four old, solemn-looking rooks fly upon the lonely
one and put him to death, as if he had been found guilty of some
dreadful crime.
In this country, during prh o the blackbirds meet almost daily
in the tops of high trees, i ii elns and locusts, and there they
chatter by the hour. Sometimes a few will fly off, angrily, with
quick, sharp notes, to some tree a little way ofd After a while,
two or three more birds will join them from the large body. Then,
perhaps, some of them will go back as "peace commissionerss" and
after a few more flights back and forth, and endless chatter, the
little party may return to the main body; or,
increasing in number, may form a second crowd
as noisy as the first.
No doubt you have heard and seen many
such powwows, dear Jack. Long may you
live to watch the birds and repeat to us their
wisdom Truly your friend,
C. B. M.

AN INTERVAL NOT ON THE
PROGRAMME.
I' told that at Pompeii, Italy,
in the year 79, a play was being
acted in one of the theaters, when
a storm of cinders fell, buried the
whole city, and, of course, put a
'-- stop to the play, which has never
been completed. A few months
ago, however, an operatic manager
named Languri made up his mind to have a new
theater just where the old one stood ; so, he printed
in the Italian newspapers a notice that ran some-
thing like this:
After a lapse of eighteen hundred years, the theater of Pompeii
will be re-opened, with the opera of 'La Figlia del Reggimento.' I
ask the continuation of the favor shown to my predecessor, Marcus
Quintus Martins, and beg to assure the public that I shall make every
effort to equal the rare qualities he displayed during his manage-
ment."
If only Marcus Quintus Martius and his actors,
and musicians, and the ancient audience, could
have been at that re-opening of their long-buried
theater, how they would have stared !


827








[OcTOBER,


THE LETTER-BOX,






THE LETTER-BOX.


OUR older boys and girls will find in this number an excellent article
on "Parlor Magic," in which they are told, by Professor Leo Grin-
don, one of the Faculty of the Royal School of Chemistry in Man-
chester, England, how to perform some very interesting, and in some
cases, quite astonishing experiments in chemistry, optics, etc. Some
of our readers may be familiar with a few of these experiments, but
the majority of them will be found novel to nearly all young people.
Occasionally, there are materials or ingredients called for, which are
somewhat expensive, and some of the experiments require a good
deal of time and patience But these are the exceptions, for nearly
all the experiments described in the article can be performed by any
careful and intelligent boy or girl of fourteen or fifteen, in a short
time and at a very small cost.
Of course, in getting up a little "Parlor Magic Entertainment" it
will not be necessary to try all the experiments described. Choose
such as you think you can perform without fail, and which will be
likely to interest the company vou expect. Be careful not to try to
do too many things in one evening, and, if possible, make each
experiment in private, before you attempt to show your friends how
it is done. This will not be necessary in every case, but if you make
an experiment, for the first time, before company, be sure that you
know exactly what vou are going to do and how it ought to be done.
One more thing, the most important of all, we would impress on
the mind of every reader of ST. NICHOLAS who tries any of these
experiments, and that is the necessity for great care in handling and
disposing of the chemical ingredients which may be used. Some of
these, although perfectly harmless, when used as directed, are very
injurious, if tasted, or even smelt very closely ; and although the per-
former may himself be very prudent and careful with his materials
and apparatus, he must not give the slightest opportunity to young
children, or indeed any one who has not studied up the subject, to
handle his chemicals.
With careful attention to the directions given in the article, a
pleasant evening entertainment may easily be had, and if an occa-
sional failure should take place, both the performer and the company
should remember that an experiment is only a trial, and cannot be
expected always to succeed.

DI:AR ST. NICHOLAS: I went over to my uncle's one Saturday
lately, to tea, and had baked beans. He never eat- -,in--r on them,
excepting some made in January, 1851, when 40 .. -ere frozen
to 55 quart bottles. He told me there was no other such vinegar in
the United States, and f I could hear of any one who has some pre-
pared like it, and as old, he would give me as handsome a doll as I
wanted. My object is to ask you to please publish my letter, and I
may receive the doll, which I want very much, and oblige, with many
thanks, one of your subscribers. L. D. H.

London, England.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: "" 1: :... r t. ..: ime.
.. i l....1.. perhaps, y r,-. I i I I II our
Si we wen .... .. in
England. It is enclosed by a wall two miles around, which was built
1800 years The "Rows of Chester are very strange and
interesting. i ., are rows of stores in the second stories of houses--
with a sidewalk in front, supported by pillars and covered overhead.
One may walk out on a rainy day and -1- i *ren- "riety of shopping
without being at all exposed to the .- i sidewalks below
these rows, and on a level with the middle of the street are dingy and
shabby, lined with forlorn looking little places inhabited by the poorer
class.
There is an old house standing in an alley, in the garret of which
one of the earls of Derby was hidden for three months.
A small part of an old church, which was built 2oo A. D., still
stands, and is one of the curiosities. There is also a tower where
Charles II. stood and saw his army defeated, only, that was
he became king. Next we went to Stratford-on-Avon, where
we saw Shakspeare's house, and I sat in his chair.
We lunched at the Red Horse Inn, in the room which Washington
Irving had when he was there. I also sat in his chair. In tile after-
noon we went to Shakspeare's other house and gardens. He had
two homes, as he only lived in one until he was seventeen years old.
We are now in London, and have been to see a few of the principal
places. Westminster Abbey is one of the great sights. We saw a
sitting figure of a duchess who died firm the effects of lock-jaw,
caused by pricking her finger with a needle, while at needle-work on
Sunday.


We also saw St. Paul's Cathedral, where there is a whispering gal-
lery, so called, because, if you whisper on one side of the gallery, it
may be heard on the other side as distinctly as if you were over there.
iThe South Kensington Museum contains a great many curiosities,
and some of thie 1.:.. 1. :h Doctor Schliemann Ias dug tip.
The National .' i ... contains a great many beautiful pictures,
and one room is devoted to turner's paintings.
We have also been to see the Tower, where the little princes were
murdered; they do not take you into the room where they stayed.
but ST. NICHOLAS gave us a fine picture of that in January of 1874.
We shall start for Paris soon.-From your little friend,
MAMIE CHARLES,

"MOTHER." Unpainted, strong and really amusing playthings,
such as you inquire for, are to be found, we think, in almost any large
toy-store. Animals, wagons, and various amusing things cut out of
plain wood, abound nowadays, and they can be sent you by express
from your nearest town. In our experience, however, we have found
building-blocks of most lasting interest to the little folks. Crandall's
are the best, for they admit of an endless variety of combination.


Washington, D). C.
XMy DEAR ST. NICIOLAS : I have a little sister, named Josie, who
is six years old. She can read only a little, and she does not like to
do it at all. She has plenty of toys, and a nice baby-house, but often
she gets tired of playing and then comes to me to know what to do.
Now, I want to know if you cannot tell me something for her to do
that will keep her quiet? I have another sister who is nineyears old.
but no brother.-Your loving reader, ANITA R. NEWCOMB.

Anita may find a satisfactory hint in the answer to Mother" given
above. Also, the Kinder Garten games that are now used in many
schools for very little folks may be of service to Josie.


London, Eng.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have just arrived in England. When we
were fairly out at sea, the first thing I did was to explore the great
ship. It was four hundred r tI ..: made entirely of iron, and sunk
twenty feet deep in the wat. i i. masts were of hollow iron, and
seventy feet high. It took nine furnaces and forty tons of coal a day
to keep the ship going. The crew numbered a hundred and thirty-
five. It seems very wonderful that a great heavy iron ship should
not sink; the reason it does not is that it is lighter than the water it
displaces.
When we were a few days out, a flock of land-birds rested on our
ship. We fed them with crumbs, and brought dishes of fresh water
on deck for them, but after a day or two they disappeared. A little
further on, a hawk alighted on the vessel, and one of the sailors
;;l.t t when it was asleep.
i i... I out how fast we were going, the sailors threw the log,"
which was no log at all, but a long thin rope with a small three-
cornered canvas bag at one end. They throw out thle bag, and it
catches in the water and keeps the end of the rope steady. The
rope runs out as the ship goes. One sailor stands with a time-glass,
which holds as much sand as will fall in one minute from one half of
it into the other. The glass is turned just when a certain mark on
tie rope passes over the rail, and, when all the sand has run, the rope
is stopped. As the rope has lengths marked on it by bits oi colored
cloth, the sailors can tell iow far the ship has gone in one minute,
and can roughly calculate from that its rate of speed by the hour.
Formerly a real log of wood was used instead of the bag.
The greatest event of the voyage was seeing a school ol whales.
There were dozens of them spouting and showing their backs above
water. Another exciting thing was meeting a ship so near that we
could salute it, which is done by '. :.. ..d then lowering the flag
once or twice. I... have flags i '.I... .' kinds, and each has its
own meaning. Ihoisting certain flags, the captains of distant
ships can exchange news.
When ..:.. s ci. Irish coast, a dense fog settled upon us, so that
we could I... 11 from one end of the ship to the other. All d;ay
and all night the great fog-whistle was kept blowing to warn other
vessels that might be in our neighborhood. To see a light-house or
landmark was impossible, but the captain found out where we were
by soundings. Every ship has r 1- -- piece of lead with a ole in one
end which is filled with tallow. i other end is fastened to a rope.
and the lead is thrown overboard and sinks to the bottom. When
hauled up, some of the sea-bottom is found stuck to the tallow, and
from this and the depth of the water, the captain knows where lie
is, for the kinds of sand and mud at the bottom of the sea, and the
varying depths of water, are plainly marked on his charts.








THE LETTER-BOX.


I cannot describe to you what a welcome sight the land was, after
seeing nothing but water for so long. liut when we had left the
great ship behind, it seemed almost as if we were leaving home, glad
though I was to get ashore.
Your loving reader, F. D.



A CORRESPONDENT sends us the series of "Beheaded Rhymes"
which we print helow. Eachi of the stanzas contains two examples of
this kind of rhyming, and, in each example, the first blank is to be
filled with a word that suits both the sense and the measure. T'he
next blank that occurs is filled with all of the chosen word except its
first letter; and this process goes on until the word can no longer ibe
beheaded and yet leave another word. The making of such Be-
headed Rhymes" as these, in company, to see who can succeed best,
sometimes whiles away very pleasantly a long evening of disagree-
able weather.
A Nc.IGIHT's ADVENTtLRES.

Ir made a most tremendous -- (s.)
1 gave imy horse a sudden --
He threw me full against an ,
And broke my collar-bone.
What can I do in such a ? (2.)
My horse is gone, I have no --
I mrmmured with a groan.

I was as wet as any- ; (3-
The wind and thunder made a ,
And neither moon nor star was -
The night was black as sin.
The fall had given me such a -- (4.)
And I was miles from any :
I floundered on through mud and -
To reach the nearest inn.

But when I fiuind the wished-for (5.)
And saw through windows dim with -
A fellow holding up an ,
I would have cried wiith fear.
Each seat was filled by such a (6.
As might have fled from any
Of thief or buccaneer.

I strove to overcome my (7.)
And ventured on a traveler's -
To enter boldly there.
The porter waved aloft a (8.)
But still I stepped within the -
And took an empty chair.

The leader gave a fearful ; (9.)
cre-;- up, and overturned the -
I. I could cover half a -
With what I felt that night.
He came, and gave me such a (10.)
That I cried out amain, though -
With anguish and affright.

"Come, will you join our game of ? (I.)
Or do you choose that I should -
The wretch, who wishes naught but -
To honest men like us?"
With that he flung me from the (ri.)
And seizing on me by the -,
He drew me forth into the -
And made a dreadful fuss.

The night had now grown clear and (3.)
I wandered to a distant -,
And thought the cold ground not so -
As was that fearful spot.
But soon there passed a friendly (14 )
Who placed me in his empty -
And took me to his cot. M. W.

The solutions are as follows: i. Clash, lash, ash. 2. Plight, light.
3. Trout, rout, out. 4. Strain, train, rain. 5. Place, lace, ace.
6. Scamp, camp. 7. Fright, right. 8. B3rooti, room 9. Screa,
cream, ream. to. Tweak, weak. ir. Skill, kill, ill. a2. Chair,
hair, air. 13. Chill, illl, ill. x4. Swain, wain.

Pittsburg, Pa.
DEAR REkADlI S OF ST. NICIIOLAS: 1 live in a city of iron
and steel manufactories. I will do my best to tell you how an ax is
made.
The works are a beautiful sight at night, with their huge, glowing
furnaces and the forms of the brawny workmen, passing between Its


and the light. In one furnace they are heating pieces of cast-iron,
about twelve inches long, four inches wide, and one-half inch thick.
A workman takes a pair of long pincers, draws from the furnace
one of the red-hot pieces of iron, and passes it to another uorkman.
This workman is standing before two large wheels, which revolve
slowly, and which have several notches in them. The piece of hot iron
is placed between these wheels, with one end in a notch, and the iron
is bent double, bringing the two ends together, making it look some-
what like a clothes-pin, except that the clothes-pin should have a
hol at the head, like in the piece of iroi. for a handle. The ends of
the bent iron are next hammered together, after \ohich the coming ax
is again heated. It is then taken to the steam hammers. The first
hammer joins the parts of the iron firmly together, while the second,
---:-;- -.-. It- face the nold of an ax. ives tie iron the same shape.
S then made straight and even by a circular saw.
liut an ax in this shape could never be used to muc;i effect, for cast-
iron cannot be ground down to a fine enough edge. Steel can be
tr'1,- I-owever, and so a piece of steel most be added to our iron
I workmen take hold of the blade wiit pincers, and while
one holds a sharp tool onl the broad edge, the other strikes with a
sledge. Into this split thus made, a piece of steel is slipped, and a
steam hammer joins them firmly.
After this, the ax is tempered, sharpened and polished; and. when
the blade is furnished with a handle, the ax is ready for sale.-Yours
truly, Tint; DocTOR."



THE following is sent to us as written, without help, by a little girl
nine years old.

THE HISTORY OF A CAT.

I am the family cat. I am not so very pretty, but they all like me
very much. I have a pretty baby-kitten, and I have a daughter
named Tortoise-hlell. She is a pretty and good cat. She also hasa
baby-kitten prettier than mine. Mine has such big eyes that its little
face does not look as cunning as my daughter's baby-kitten's face.
My mistress is very good to me sometimes, but sometimes she pulls
my tail and makes me mad, and I scratch her and then she slaps me
back; but when she is good to me, and pets me, and gives me cake,
then I purr to her.
Once my mistress' brother had a dog given to him. This dog's
name was "Captain." I did not like him one bit.
My mistress' brother's friend tried to set the dog on me, but he
would not come near me; so the boy let him alone.
VWhen my mistress went to get my daughter' 1 .... tainn
went witl her. My mistress did not know that -, ... ...r .... the
room with her. Tortoise-shell was tending her kitten, but, as soon
as she saw the dog, she jumped up and scratched his nose good for
him. He did not stay very long. He was given to my mistress'
brother on Saturday. The next day, which was Sunday, my mistress
and the rest of the family were at church; the dog got out, I don't
know how, but when my mistress came Ihomn from church she looked
all about, but could not find him anywhere. She was very sorry, but
I was not sorry one bit; I was glad. So now we 've come to the
end. G. M. M.



Oswego, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Please will you tell me where I can find
directions how to build a boat?-Yours respectfully,
HARRY MlEAD.

Midland, 1878.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I wish that you would tell me how to make
a yatch I have a schooner but she gets beat bad and I should like
to know how to make a yatch that will beat them all I think one
about 3o inches will be long enough.-I remain your c rI .
j .

In ST. NICHOLAS for July, 1875 (Vol. II.), Harry will find full
directions how to make a serviceable boat at a small cost; and G. B.
J., whose letter we print veirbatim, also may find hints that will
enable him to build an all-conquering yatch."


MAilwaukee, Wis.
DEIAR ST. NICHOLAS : I am going to tell you about a game that
we play here a good deal. I do not know what it is called. It can
be played by any number, though tie more the merrier. Each
player must have a sleet of paper and a pencil. When all are sup-
plied, each one must write across the top of the sheet a question,
taking up as little room on the page as possible, and turning the
paper down so as to cover lup the writing, as in Consequences."
The paper is then passed to the next neighbor, who is to write a
common noun, of any kind, under the question, and turn over in
like manner. After the noun has been wr itten, the paper is passed


829


1878.] '








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


[dcione,;.


on. Then everybody opens the paper that last came to him, and nine years old. I have two little sisters, Belle and Marion, and a little
must answer the question in rhyme, inserting the noun. I will give brother, Bobo. When we get big we may write some stories for vour
you an illustration. book. We are little now, but everybody was little once.-Your
EXAMPLE: friend, Ki'' r' GCRIFIITIS


Question,-" Do you like pigs ?"
Common noun.-" Peas."
Answer, in rhyme,-
I lve the gentle animals
That sport about our home,
And all among the peas and corn
So happily do roam.

Ah! little pigs I'll harm you not,
Nor e'en disturb your play,
But you shall have your own sweet will,
And feed upon the best of swill,
Through all the livelong day."

Will somebody answer thus this question, that was given to me:
"Which was tt : .-. I battle of Alexander the Great? "
Noun: .. Yours truly, D. J.


DEAR ST. NicHOLAS: I send you a puzzle, which I hope you will
print:


My first is in your bodv,
Quite useful in its way.
My second flows in Italy,
And flows by night and day.
My third, a thing to cook with, is
In every kitchen found.
My fourth's a common article,
A very simple sound.
Mv fifth folks often get into,-
The careless ones, of course.
My whole, a clumsy animal,
Is partly named for horse.
Answer: Hip-Po-pot-a-mus, hippopotamus.


R. N. P.


Wilmette, Ills.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have been taking your book two years. I
think it is splendid. Some of the stories are so funny. I go to a
private school, and I am in the Fourth Reader. The girls play on
one side of the grounds and the boys on the other; the cherry-trees
are on our side, and I like it the best. We have lots of fun. I am


Philadelphia, Pa.
D1EAR ST. NICIliLAS: I do like you so much, and I wish you
would tell me something. I see pictures and read books in which ar,
the names Penelope, Juno, Achilles, Hercules, and so on. The dic-
tionary tells but little about these names, and I want to know all
about them. Can you tell ime how to find out ?-Truly your friend,
CARRIE H.

You can learn a good deal about the personages you mention from
Bulfincl's Age of Fable," from Alexander S. Murray's Manual
of Mythology," and from Mrs. Clement's Handbook of Legendary
and Mythological Art" ; but the poems of Homer,-the Iliad and
the Odyssey,"-of both of which there are good English transla-
tions,-are the chief sources of the information.


Chicago, Ills.
Mv DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I send you an Enigma to publish in
your magazine. The answer to the Enigma is "Washington."-
Yours truly, WILLIE M.
My I, 9, Io, is the same as one.
hMi 8, i, is two-thirds of two.
My 6, 5, to, is three-fourths of nine.
MSy o, 9, 8, 4, 5, 6, 9, is nothing.
My 3, 2. t, is what my 5 did.
My 8, 9, Io, is very heavy; but
My io. 9, 8, is not.
My 6, 5, 7, 4, 8, is always somewhere, but not here to-day.



THEi BOY ENGINEERS : WHAT THEY DID, AND HOW THEY DID IT,
is an illustrated book published by Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons. It
seems to have been written for readers living in England, but young
amateur machinists anywhere would find it an entertaining book. It
gives good practical hints about the management of tools, and ex-
plains how to turn and carve in wood and metal, how to make a
clock, an organ, a small house, and hlow to set up a steam-engine.
The type is large, and the style easy and pleasant.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


VERY EASY SQUARE-TVORD.

i. A pointed implement of brass or wood. 2 Wrath. 3. Not old.
A. w., ANt)D I. E. D.

DECAPITATIONS.
i. BEHEAD a bird's nest, and leavealake in North America. 2. Be-
head a marine map, and leave a wild animal. 3. Behead a sail vessel,
and leave a small narrow opening. 4. Behead a plant, and leave
space. 5. Behead a basket or hamper, and leave standard or propor-
tion. 6. Behead a sharp bargainer, and leave a company of people.
7. Behead a group of individuals, and leave a country girl. 8. Be-
head an act of deception, and leave high temperature. IsoLA.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
THE whole, composed of twelve letters, is a noted character of
A merican fiction.
The i, 8, 4, 12 is to rend asunder. The 3, 2, 6, i is a flower.
The t, 5, 7, 9 is an open, grassy space. c. o.

EASY MELANGE.
1. B1EHEAD a pavement, and find a planet 2. Syncopate the pave-
ment, and give a shrub. 3. Transpostie te planet, and leave the cen-
ter. 4. Behead and transpose the center, and find a weed. 5.
Transpose the weed, and give degree. 6. Syncopate the center, and
leave an animal. 7. Behead the animal, and find skill. 8. Curtail
the shrub, and give excitement. 9. Behead and curtail the center, and
leave a part of the body. ro. Behead and transpose excitement, and


find a plant. it. Syncopate excitement, and give an article of cloth-
ing. 12. Transpose skill, and leave an animal. 13. Reverse the
animal, and find a sailor.

CABIN PUZZLE.


THIi dots show where the letters are to be placed. The perpendicu-
lar and sloping lines of the building are read downward, the hori-
zontals from left to ri-ht.


830








TIE RIDDLE-BOX.


The letters that form the foundation, reading from extreme left to
extreme right, signify (1) a fireside; those of the lower edge of the
roof spell (2) liable to taxatim; those of the ridge-pole mean (3) calls
for; those of the left-hand corner-post denote (4) the cry of a domestic
animal; those of the middle corner-post, (5) a free entertainment;
those of the right-hand corner-post, (6. I ... .1 rd of prey; those of
the 1 i I. 1 1 .. i. . ..... English university;
thos.. I I. .... I II I .* I i i (8) a regulated course of food;
and those of the right-hand sloping roof-edge, (9) withered.
The chimney is a double word-square, and reads, downward, (10)
bleared, (it) a man's name, (12) a farm-yard inclosure; across, (03)
to plunge, (0) anger, (15) a playing piece in the game of chess. The
door, also, is a double word-square: it reads, downward (16) a useful
insect, (i7) a city of Burmah (Farther Indlia (18) a resinous sub-
stance; across, (g9) a wooden club, (20) a ...I name, (21) a part of
the human bodv.
The left-hand window is a double word-square, and reads, down-
ward (22) to bend under weight, (23) a prefix, (24) hitherto; across,
(25) a secret agent, (26) exist, (27) to procure. The right-hand win-
dow, also, is a double word-square: it reads, downward, (28)
to make brown, (29) a kind of poem, (30) angry; across, (31) a
nickname fur a boy, (32) a girl's name, (33) another nickname
for a boy. H. H. D.

DROP-LETTER STAIR PUZZLE.


E -

E
E

-EEE-
E
E
_JEEF_
-E E-
Going upstairs, find (reading from right to left): r. A fish
that lives in English waters. 2. Full to overflowing. 3.
Reward 4. An animal. 5.A lively dance. 6. An edible
plant. 7. To maintain hold upon.
Going down-stairs, find (reading front left to right): r. To
peep. 2. A part ofa boat. 3. To look obliquely. 4. An
aquatic plant. 5. To esteem. 6. To gather. 7. The seed of
an oriental plant. H. H. D.

PROVERB ENIGMA.
THE proverb is composed of twenty-nine letters.
The 5, 15, 26, 19, 2 is a wild animal. The 9, 14, 20, 16, 3,
ii is a person employed in the building of houses. The 1o,
23, 21, i is a common reptile. The 13, 4, 2i, 7, 29 is a bird of
rne 1 -'" The 25, 17, 6, 27, 8 is a bird that is attached to V
:i. ii, of men. The 18, 28, t1, 24 is a swimming and -'
diving bird of the Arctic Regions. i. .

KNIGHTI'S-MOVE PUZZLE.


lay tie on dom brave- still square quered


ly truth press day the board ly strike


bat- this Per- a- free- c t ce from


and fierce- who Greeks down Mar- for o-


reais hard thn sian youth i te square this


as right. each poured at I horde ward fight


long so knight ly thr'gh the on leaps


As on life's may I up bold- a. d to



The above puzzle consists of a verse of eight rhyming eight-
syllable lines; each syllable occupies a square, and follows in succes-
sion according to the knight's move on the chess-board. F. W.


EASY HIDDEN FISHES.

IN each of the following sentences find, concealed, the name of a
well-known fish.
i. A Russian soldier, at Toms'<, ate a salamander. 2. Do you
spell knob' as she does ?" 3. Where is my badge? Ella has
it." 4. Francesco drew a large prize yesterday. 5. Have the girls
and boys seen Fanny Dunbar? "Belle has." 6. My dolls had the
measles last month. 7. Every soldier leaves his tent Rout the
enemy! is the battle-cry. 8. I heard, with regret, that she had lost
her ring. 9. I composed a song of which the first verse begins
something like this: "Hark! 't is a cricket chirping." to. Wax
dolls melt when left too near the fire. A. E. ..


POETICAL RIEBUS.

A two-line quotation from Cowper.







.2' .. W./
d4 roe
C~,.,t'. / y&^ u pit


RIDDLE.
GLEAMtING gayly, flashing light;
White as snow, and black as night;
Ladies, I 'm your slave, your pride,
Though in ocean I abide.

Power have I o'er life and death,-
I, a creature without breath!
I, so small that you can draw
Fifty, like me, through a straw.


I. s. c.


SUGGESTED WORD-SQUARE.
IN the following rhyme, the words of the Square are suggested by
the sense, and are to be inserted in the blanks, in order, as the blanks
occur,-the first word in the first blank, the second word in the second
blank, and so on.

To buy a -- was foolish waste.
(1 'd no -- how it would taste !)
"'// just have bread and ." said Daisy.
Who a fruit like that, is crazy !

ANAGRAMS.
IN the following sentence, the words printed in capitals are ana-
grams of tie words that should occupy the same places, ro as to Imake
sense. Thus : IIATTLE-Sc RiEENS is a compound-word that takes the
place ot another to be formed of the sam i .. i i:...
the right word, in this example, being .i i .
the other collections of capital s an anagram of but a single word.
I saw TENT Si DS by the IBATTL.E-SCinE NS, puzzling over THE
MICA MATSr and perplexed about MANY RaOOTs. c. T.








THE RIDDLE -BOX.


REBUS.
A two-line quotation from Shakspeare.


COMPLETE DIAMOND.

THE centrals of the diamond are each the same word, of five letters,
spelling the name of a Frenchman who became notorious during the
great French Revolution. The remainder of the diamond is made of


words formed from the letters of his name. The diamond
incloses a hollow square, either of whose perpendiculars or
horizontals, read backward or forward, will spell a word; and,
reading from the middle letter to either end of either of the
centrals, a word will be spelled, which, when read backward,
will spell another word. Make the Diamond. TRiEONIUS.

EASY AMPUTATED QUOTATION.
Two lines from Tennyson. Each word is beheaded and
curtailed.
-RI-- --E.ART'-- -R- --OR-- --IhA-- --ORONET--
-N- --IMPL- --AIT- -A- -ORMA-- -LoO-
C L. D.

EASY CROSS-WVORD) PUZZ E.
MY first is in bec, but not in fly;
My second in moon, but not in sky;
IMy third is in scare, but not in fright
My fourth is in top, and also in kite;
My fifth is in broad, but not in wide:
TMy sixth is in ocean, but not in tide:
My whole is all New England's pride. n. A s.

ANAGRA Il WORD-SQUARlES.

FROM the letters composing each of the following four sen-
tences make a word-square: i. Doctor. do Irish histories err?
2. Let their hotel gardener grin. 3. Post shall need man's sym-
pathy. 4. lurrah, Peg has the gallant pup! The meaning
of the word, composing the four squares, in the proper order
of succession, are as follows:
I .A band of sing.. .- 1..:... troop of barba -ri
ans. 3.A plant with '.. 4. A simpleton.
5. Is quiet.
I. i. A spelled number. 2. A lazy person. 3. A dazzling
light. 4. A marsh bird. 5. A river of England.
III. t. Profundity. 2. To try. 3. A sacred sung. 4. A claw. 5.
Poems.
IV. 1. A noise that no animal but man can make. 2. The name
of a letter of the Greek alphabet. 3. Part of a shoe. 4. A town of
Belgium. 5. Deer. .. + B.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN SEPTEMBER NUMBER.


CLASSICAL DOUBLE ACROSTIC.-- Tl:,r7-T-T-r I. VoucH. 2.
IagO. 3. RoaR. 4. GeorgiA. 5. ..... '* i- '
NAMES OF AUTHORS ENIGMATIC ALLY EXPRESSED.--. Poe. 2.
Defoe. 3. Hawthorne. 4. Prescott. 5. Hay. 6. Cooper. 7.
Sparks. 8. Lever. 9. Lover. o1. Boswell.
ENIGMa.-Bridle.
WHAT IS IT' -A switch.
CHARADE -Nightingale; night, in(n), gale.
CENI'TAL SYNCOPATIONS.-I Mouth, lmoth. 2. Carve, cave. 3.
Maxim, maim. 4. Cabin, Cain. 5. Coronet, cornet.
THREE DIAMONDS.-
T C I
I G AL I U N A
I. T I B E R II. C L E III. N D I A
GE a I Y A I M
R E A
PICTORIAL ANAGXAM.N-"Procrastination is the thief of time."
INCOMPLETE rENTENCES.-I. Fair, fare. 2. Rite, right, write.


3. Maid, made. 4. Reads, reeds. 5. Beats, beets. 6. Bawl, ball.
7. Mien, mean. 8. Fain, feign, fane.
RIDDLE.-River.
POSITIVES AND COMPARATIVES.-I. Flat, flatter. 2. Ham, ham-
mer 3. Gross, grocer. 4. Lad, ladder. 5. On, honor. 6. Eye, ire.
7. Poe, pore. 8. Pie, pyre. 9 Mart, martyr.
DOUBLE WORD-SQUARE.- G O N E
AVER
LEER
ENDS
HIDDEN NAMES.--In each sentence, take the first letter of each
word i. Alma. 2. Helen. 3. Arthur. 4. Mahel. 5. Harry. 6.
Ethel. 7. Ernest. 8. Edith. 9. Fred. 10. Stella. II. Edwin. 12.
Grace. r3. Frank.
EAsy CROss-WonR ENIGMAa.-Dictionary.
REBUS.--" Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the '1 ,:.. .ath?"
DountLE AcRos nc.- Victoria-Disraeli. .i' 2. 1, 3.
CorpS. 4. ToweR. 5. OperA. 6. RarE. 7. IdyL. 8. Alighierl.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE AUGU( S'T NUMiERc werre ceived, before August 2o, from Eva D., "Patrolman (illooley," John C. Robert-
son, Three Sisters." "So So," Mary C. Warren, May Bleecker, Daisy Briggs, George P. Dravo, Doctor," Louisa I'. Riedel, C. A. K.,
Bessie L. Barnes, Nessie E. Stevens, Southwick C .'. lary Louise Hood, Olive Mecklem, Edwin E. Ganegues, Anna Halliday, Edith
lMcKeever, M. W. C., Lewis G. Davis, Bessie i! I 1t .. Herkimer, Nina Riker, Marnie Riker; Jerome Buck. Jr.; Nellie Emerson,
" Soft Soap Jessie W. Cox, Fleta M. Holman, Robbie, Irvie, and Daisy," Hild Sterling: Edith and Marion W.; Mary H. Bradley,
Alice ,. Booth, Willie Gray, Mamie, Nantucket," Harry; F. M. J., Jr.; Jennie R. Beach, Maud L. Smith, Alice T I..-',. laterr Stock-
dale, Rowen S McClure, Anita R. Newcomb, Bertie Jackson, M. (. A., Cora Rawson Ryder, Apelle and his Pa ., ,i ., C.' 'e
II Williams, Richard Weld, VWisor Weld, I' .-r C. Schnitzspahn, "Rosalind," H. B. Ayers, Oriole," Fred S. C 1.i
W. Mainnus, Lizzie Thurhcr, "The Raven White and Grant Squires; Neils E. Hansen. "Winnie," Chas. iI1 -I ltty P.
Norton, Laurie T. Sanders; Box 325, St. Thomas," Annie J. Buzzard, Harry Bennett, Jennie Kiniball, Dycie Warden, t. ... McF.
Lukens, Ratie and Katie," S. G., and H. M.," Ann Hullne Wilson. Eddie Vultec, Dolly, Jessie Van Brunt, Willie 1,. C. Lorson,
Lincoln Cromwell, T. J. De la Hunt, Stock-broker," Bessie C. Barney, Bessie T'aylor, Willie F. Floyd, and Louise G. -insdale.
Grace Rosevelt, Amy Growly, Ellen Smith, B. Y. G- H. Caroni and Wife," "V. and A.," and 0. C. Turner, answered correctly all
the puzzles in mt .. '.., 1
theladys H. ,11. I ..' .,, England, answered several of the puzzles in the July number, but his letter did not come in time
for adding his name to the July list. The delay was not his fault, so the credit due is now given.


OCTOBERR,