<%BANNER%>
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Dru's red sea
 Nid-nodding
 Dory-fishing
 The sylvan party
 Green covers and brown
 Little Elsie
 A jolly fellowship
 A talk about royal children
 Company to supper
 Blossom-boy of Tokio
 A poor little mother - The child...
 Blown away
 Rattle-te-bang
 Eyebright
 A wonderful child - "Hay-foot!...
 "Glories"
 Catching the cat
 How to make a hammock
 Fourth of July march (music)
 For four little hands (music)
 How Harold came to tell himself...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 Young contributors' department
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


BLDN NEH CCLC ICDL UFSPEC



xml version 1.0 encoding UTF-8 standalone no
fcla fda yes
dl
!-- St. Nicholas, vol. 6, no. 9 ( Serial ) --
METS:mets OBJID UF00065513_00075
xmlns:METS http:www.loc.govMETS
xmlns:mods http:www.loc.govmodsv3
xmlns:ufdc http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2
xmlns:xlink http:www.w3.org1999xlink
xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance
xmlns:daitss http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss
xsi:schemaLocation
http:www.loc.govMETS http:www.loc.govstandardsmetsmets.xsd
http:www.loc.govmodsv3 http:www.loc.govmodsv3mods-3-3.xsd http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitssdaitss.xsd http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2 http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2ufdc2.xsd
METS:metsHdr CREATEDATE 2009-06-25T10:12:57Z ID LASTMODDATE 2007-05-04T16:24:57Z RECORDSTATUS NEW
METS:agent ROLE CREATOR TYPE ORGANIZATION
METS:name UF
OTHERTYPE SOFTWARE OTHER
Go UFDC FDA Preparation Tool
INDIVIDUAL
UFAD\mariner1
METS:dmdSec DMD1
METS:mdWrap MDTYPE MODS MIMETYPE textxml LABEL Metadata Object Description Schema
METS:xmlData
mods:mods
mods:accessCondition type restrictions on use displayLabel Rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
mods:identifier NOTIS ocm0176
OCLC 7405657; (DLC)SF 89099153
(DLC) 2006255186; 55136171
mods:language
mods:languageTerm text English
mods:location
mods:physicalLocation Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
code UF
mods:name personal
mods:namePart Dodge, Mary Mapes
date 1830-1905
mods:role
mods:roleTerm authority marcrelator Creator
mods:note Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
funding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
mods:originInfo
mods:publisher Scribner,
mods:place
mods:placeTerm New York
mods:dateIssued -c1943.
mods:recordInfo
mods:recordIdentifier source ufdc UF00065513_00075
mods:recordContentSource University of Florida
mods:relatedItem original
mods:physicalDescription
mods:extent 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
series
mods:titleInfo
mods:title St. Nicholas.
mods:part
mods:detail Enum1
mods:caption Vol. 6
mods:number 6
Enum2
No. 9
9
mods:subject
mods:topic Children's literature -- Periodicals.
Literature for Children
St. Nicholas, vol. 6, no. 9
alternative
Saint Nicholas
mods:typeOfResource text
DMD2
OTHERMDTYPE UFDC University of Florida Digital Collections
ufdc:procParam
ufdc:Collection.Primary JUV
ufdc:SubCollection NICK
ufdc:MainThumbnail 00001thm.jpg
ufdc:bibDesc
ufdc:BibID UF00065513
ufdc:VID 00075
ufdc:Publisher
ufdc:Name Scribner,
ufdc:Source
ufdc:statement UF University of Florida
ufdc:Type Serial
ufdc:serial
ufdc:SerialHierarchy level 1 order 6 Vol. 6
2 No. 9
METS:amdSec
METS:digiprovMD AMD_DAITTS
DAITTS
daitss:daitss
daitss:AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT PROJECT
METS:fileSec
METS:fileGrp
METS:file GROUPID G1 J1 imagejpeg CHECKSUM 517adc1dde5086d4630d1c295dce481c CHECKSUMTYPE MD5 SIZE 511465
METS:FLocat LOCTYPE OTHERLOCTYPE SYSTEM xlink:href 00001.jpg
G2 J2 ad9327e5d36a95bf67bb7f0e522d0763 203254
00002.jpg
G3 J3 171b4e89fe44620b5f8016e4016f742e 315021
00003.jpg
G4 J4 68faaa6c86babad2bbc31cca3bcdff61 248910
00004.jpg
G5 J5 9caf21a526aee8e0782228bb9777c438 350169
00005.jpg
G6 J6 a44fd79a8fb909301262bc99512ae256 336285
00006.jpg
G7 J7 b78c08a5c2ed55224be732bbf32e0817 180764
00007.jpg
G8 J8 590817df1b6e3da443c1314b4705827a 353584
00008.jpg
G9 J9 b7cfcad9b965440121814e4464d09099 342415
00009.jpg
G10 J10 2f46878a10bb1c332aee5332058c7410 301232
00010.jpg
G11 J11 0fe9b9e00206ea005b471722576fb744 278257
00011.jpg
G12 J12 2b9ec5f4b1076ef1594934d51ffefbdd 246099
00012.jpg
G13 J13 6e6690221d43e07203f7330affdcd952 246319
00013.jpg
G14 J14 a8ed3f3611fd31585d7d59268c485a54 266637
00014.jpg
G15 J15 fe65719c5de66e7731bac7782f7fc294 342626
00015.jpg
G16 J16 1f41b4cc3be104e353a6fa0b96e89256 355686
00016.jpg
G17 J17 476ce2d14009c6e3191828e74b8edeea 347982
00017.jpg
G18 J18 19a1f5da2ecf314c7bdf0460c21be002 375342
00018.jpg
G19 J19 35b41628efaa338df62e4ab3545e21ee 396694
00019.jpg
G20 J20 a1ec305fe5aed70c76a810d0a097a1c9 275114
00020.jpg
G21 J21 e8fe6ec61eb15507be19db6671a7d591 295786
00021.jpg
G22 J22 82324244d588212c3fd310299147ebd3 333045
00022.jpg
G23 J23 29a5ff9268155d5d54e947212d7f5d07 312801
00023.jpg
G24 J24 fc3c9bba7e0835ce2695d615ea5e6fbd 343268
00024.jpg
G25 J25 728711efb30ad14993d917cb2425172a 380233
00025.jpg
G26 J26 f9705592ff79d031a6a06f7784e06847 281925
00026.jpg
G27 J27 29d0f7733c9305a88a05e11ea81f8c60 165685
00027.jpg
G28 J28 c23931e60d4b970b15c00672b40d1bc6 321308
00028.jpg
G29 J29 475577f957d99e57690f8b41487f6385 367896
00029.jpg
G30 J30 121af6827e88f1ca95a2ff4aeb88e777 375754
00030.jpg
G31 J31 20125a163fbfbb4ffd72e04a1dff0f61 293650
00031.jpg
G32 J32 27a3a11e48a4e9b92874b445336fc7b9 305771
00032.jpg
G33 J33 013cb23ba332cecbc4b8ae5f776a7667 298197
00033.jpg
G34 J34 4751c7d75d6a38624ca084d89c7a7b68 289655
00034.jpg
G35 J35 39f48069ff1387271e2d5e7485534ecd 345116
00035.jpg
G36 J36 7b7ca799bf9f11dd2b3ca7e460801b80 317715
00036.jpg
G37 J37 bfdafc7eceb77769887fc528c65aaea9 293285
00037.jpg
G38 J38 8018b908b126d95ff982f7c6aa7f7d2f 292721
00038.jpg
G39 J39 07f0e460d17250983ee5050e3449d5c9 238807
00039.jpg
G40 J40 048646cf5dbb73877cc9bcbea7245aeb 211737
00040.jpg
G41 J41 91a050cd416101c0c18b4b62989ac56c 336780
00041.jpg
G42 J42 e55c5b509f198a84260ca5c06d8dad35 292279
00042.jpg
G43 J43 34686f62440b1d91d2d61d3af8bc5685 293852
00043.jpg
G44 J44 a3b4b996020e9d515063900ca3107d74 378100
00044.jpg
G45 J45 8d2c046c3d816f4998cbd9b001554dc2 352078
00045.jpg
G46 J46 4d2b4f52489b6954f23bef0d01b1afa0 215567
00046.jpg
G47 J47 866afe31ecf082435035d4b137b40e48 194957
00047.jpg
G48 J48 c815cb60c587070fc4eeab0c1067a46c 373718
00048.jpg
G49 J49 9622e0339c2d245a6863eaefcbaec9d4 357030
00049.jpg
G50 J50 cebeb5ad486ea4a7e8dfbbd9f1c972ed 379896
00050.jpg
G51 J51 f21be235cde8f560ee27fea849a4455f 393056
00051.jpg
G52 J52 8011ec3f11113173e03ab74857975b3c 356729
00052.jpg
G53 J53 b8eba34fdb84dfc475278a2d96502d40 383134
00053.jpg
G54 J54 ed03b6d2cbc9a00d6fbbc643cf384957 384263
00054.jpg
G55 J55 009b0663a5f00c195310eb5f63441e38 369727
00055.jpg
G56 J56 cbf66dbd84e31b3d7538101e4b2adc1f 343853
00056.jpg
G57 J57 60f8a5ce60c54fb96353ce3ff87f2968 286291
00057.jpg
G58 J58 2aab104561f97b00634372277a448e93 352253
00058.jpg
G59 J59 efaff6f60b2912a6fceb7cfd8e3e4944 237452
00059.jpg
G60 J60 9ce655c66f513ede2502f5b180dd25f6 252864
00060.jpg
G61 J61 22465dd2b999b4ba0f67eba70badc558 255603
00061.jpg
G62 J62 d49023647f70e414a80c0c36648748df 312415
00062.jpg
G63 J63 c07d790f51099ff6861d31726e76b32e 306314
00063.jpg
G64 J64 012f4b0df0d7d935cbffe36e436070fa 282730
00064.jpg
G65 J65 c3b3f6f23d4c9e69f79a621baab8c53f 276128
00065.jpg
G66 J66 2849b167117514c15549c7e1dc1e0820 264471
00066.jpg
G67 J67 b0c5547198dda230efa2ce8230e17ed4 282984
00067.jpg
G68 J68 88ca5bdd25ca5d15087137f0d4bffe30 354042
00068.jpg
G69 J69 c0f27be190a84d4c8d69be70ebcf2235 362618
00069.jpg
G70 J70 a3411ebc727b0d7a3c55ec7d62d1f805 377685
00070.jpg
G71 J71 0e646f54c05ae03746c306bff5776b4f 318327
00071.jpg
G72 J72 c5148198a4564460fb6028fcf784c3ad 367983
00072.jpg
G73 J73 8501e239c35484a2072c8262ea183384 290654
00073.jpg
G74 J74 d68afa8ab9ca77a8c940669cc9082c16 251282
00074.jpg
G75 J75 9322fbecd9b051c3c913cce34012908f 322868
00075.jpg
G77 J77 d38543fc0f006a670ad1ad177a2fe311 201955
00077.jpg
G78 J78 1114bcb1f867cd66fe37c543d031f5cc 385453
00078.jpg
G79 J79 e34b6cd74c108ba9884a64b809c9a0b3 257463
00079.jpg
E1 imagejp2 320f7cf7e29109dabc8b798cd6064eb0 691207
00001.jp2
E2 cc45c9f4632c5f21577f3e4c1e4f7c0a 714942
00002.jp2
E3 a0882f6fd3b2882a4df733fd53b991a7 616902
00003.jp2
E4 86c5a8968caa7f8f3a5208d0dd7e622f 616842
00004.jp2
E5 8b95ed4a755564b0b4bc5021fded3575
00005.jp2
E6 630609555b32ec8cf34c3efa55279b8f 616874
00006.jp2
E7 f19c883f37e770884a096295ad39af93 616888
00007.jp2
E8 e37d318fd33bfed56381eb5a011bfa83 616896
00008.jp2
E9 36963ac90210ea962744f25cb87a232a 616897
00009.jp2
E10 a18901023067427c0ab48c7e3c568690 616783
00010.jp2
E11 21815d2f041d84db12987d3d7b6c6cfa 616776
00011.jp2
E12 93103945abb9e734c0e1eacf7ea5ba0e 616887
00012.jp2
E13 d5b17919e3581f3b285a9793bee45976 616848
00013.jp2
E14 15363f7bae83036d6afa6d1ba7fd757c 616868
00014.jp2
E15 0c7b73286d12c0227e45b506665f2ce8 616861
00015.jp2
E16 2baecc3aa5c8d2c4849eda16d12c603d
00016.jp2
E17 35374ca7bf00f2bcf771e641cc4a7575 616720
00017.jp2
E18 5702ba0e8bbafd978e0dc928fdb2226e 616823
00018.jp2
E19 ca6a78598c8a8476f7d52b7bc35b1afd 616875
00019.jp2
E20 173975b734f4b11ce265c698dba5c6ea 616812
00020.jp2
E21 4b2cf7bd235aacc2a28f15c5ce1273d2 616816
00021.jp2
E22 9d67a870e0f013b129d96b0eba85647f 616893
00022.jp2
E23 54aa391c664e3413cd1db0f3c7fca216 616630
00023.jp2
E24 f2f827e9c8ab26ff4f62d7cd64fde305
00024.jp2
E25 90664a627f8d969ee6949c6ae7c79f38 616903
00025.jp2
E26 7a5472a67dd6483a47f2e4419a51373f 616890
00026.jp2
E27 06b0f9ce84409d55e57e88dbf798509c 616844
00027.jp2
E28 cac7b3cf05615fc58a74d094380c55d3 616878
00028.jp2
E29 f06f4ba3a3b249083afbfddbf6b9a0ad
00029.jp2
E30 2394bdf7121dea1c3e086b21224291c2 616856
00030.jp2
E31 3e6d44b871591c866ec5650b156cbdd2 616705
00031.jp2
E32 ac1471319eb1a9786050bf6254a479b2 616794
00032.jp2
E33 082daebd44ab2a6baae3e420f4ebccbf 616843
00033.jp2
E34 4dc03736d3dfd6f5c21aabb3dfa35f05 616895
00034.jp2
E35 88bfa58a319104a64b3dd68f33ae32aa
00035.jp2
E36 12e172422e9735ec0d69bbfc4b6e22d0 616882
00036.jp2
E37 ac853f6baf9addac99135510fc9c5e4b 616900
00037.jp2
E38 1d075aaf4c05d133b7d23505cc6fc6b0 616901
00038.jp2
E39 db9fd6295b7fb8c22e2470ee55c399cd
00039.jp2
E40 8d38f0a0ab189bc17cc7dd6730d71b76
00040.jp2
E41 d03c3ca89973e8d9640b4435bac0312f 616850
00041.jp2
E42 c163b8250d06715f524a5120fdfa2c53 616883
00042.jp2
E43 f709bc543494dc6c1fef935c151b5c0d 616859
00043.jp2
E44 df52d557f9bcf5d612c7316efbcce89a
00044.jp2
E45 468a9e2fdb51c692feca8eb6bdd7be01 616847
00045.jp2
E46 bbea726fa6a2872f139ee36b06fe3a69
00046.jp2
E47 4ae471aeb4f3310fe143bcd5559e7a7c 616819
00047.jp2
E48 6c4a02f105cbc653b3bc66c97f45a15c 616864
00048.jp2
E49 2ccbe2cf8d617b7e47c9952caaf13ee1 616808
00049.jp2
E50 ca3876797a679deacc55e0ef451423e7 616899
00050.jp2
E51 0b06410d9c91ecbe3752f5c5004b3502
00051.jp2
E52 0ae1c75aee124f6b233907baf54d9529 616891
00052.jp2
E53 2c4f132f2fc45fed5de08907a91b1150 616686
00053.jp2
E54 3018c6b5a204f0711ee3ff2bbca282c7 616880
00054.jp2
E55 1009d29d925f8f4e28e579ce5467f41e
00055.jp2
E56 14fedc54a80e640f4d211585b7feb13e 616858
00056.jp2
E57 f0dfa69aef330358f5c0087befbefa49
00057.jp2
E58 465d93911d3983768ec892ba758f48ee
00058.jp2
E59 316a019db2883a13bb50c27cef2ba33b
00059.jp2
E60 028d9d64059722e771c6f0e9071f13e7
00060.jp2
E61 9709561cccd8b588abe437765ce3c831 616845
00061.jp2
E62 142f42c2e4421e2e91f318bf2d1e43b6 616892
00062.jp2
E63 5ce4e42b418227d231184ae39f979e28 616824
00063.jp2
E64 7a56b1ceaae663cec28d910eaa1418d7 616749
00064.jp2
E65 ef5920341f1c5a53372cd8f75ef55ebf
00065.jp2
E66 609c05df6e129ef7486d49b8826b513d
00066.jp2
E67 413fcfbcdd43a00356038d04e2cc5cc3
00067.jp2
E68 d2471cb806dc6d6d4eddf77c5641cd66 616787
00068.jp2
E69 99ef1288ff19e2eaf05e2c4b4412236b
00069.jp2
E70 802683b04c6ef017928243647b9ea535 616710
00070.jp2
E71 5d763fd1484a5f3c32411c5f7a79d35b
00071.jp2
E72 e8a2e950ce2efe1ba862d2cccebe793f 616871
00072.jp2
E73 140bba55e379aeb9693372dc5d60dd8a 616807
00073.jp2
E74 011ca0b89b58b055d254a8d5d9157eef 616836
00074.jp2
E75 b6aca7a0561c6cfff35e4aa4e8daf24c
00075.jp2
E77 4e1bc2435725d92ca9ea12368b79dbec 703587
00077.jp2
E78 43192972aabd4c2d6e7b4b80cf35bb86 723689
00078.jp2
E79 d2e8a2890db5e1836c3e90be29899cf7 249958
00079.jp2
F1 imagetiff 6.0 5fe70d71eb0b3b9ebedd3a32a4ea8129 16610776
00001.tif
F2 c33946552b459ff3cea36d512c65d12c 17176788
00002.tif
F3 38585d3548dd4f239ea34e7321d06551 4957752
00003.tif
F4 47ef47ed47cd1bc31ead1200a9df5c49 4956328
00004.tif
F5 20b472b2e0a173ac2de668a49151cd15 4957964
00005.tif
F6 89f0034329219fe27ec944727b2b3bc8 4957736
00006.tif
F7 fbe2d04bf693701d4c19d2cfa035cf40 4955360
00007.tif
F8 b5ef3fecb08f6d7c729808b9b53e7a25 4957944
00008.tif
F9 65a38b09cb95efcea27dc092ef57a6ec 4957292
00009.tif
F10 acbcc2f64b77e0f39a2df295517ed87e 4956944
00010.tif
F11 e31f91331ff231570b8d0d474cf2e16d 4957788
00011.tif
F12 efcd0248fb809dd010e11a3a98c15065 4957228
00012.tif
F13 ea89f7070058de8ed0c98c7fee5d6234 4955968
00013.tif
F14 d9b86140eee0aa84bb44e4e3b2c50d25 4956672
00014.tif
F15 143c6a0359d2e0a4f060fbd3aa348bc3
00015.tif
F16 1138bef2502621c3e899d10e1fca1b84 4958036
00016.tif
F17 f0bafbab2e8df0f1da05c500c5c9a84b 4957860
00017.tif
F18 ba0d6b18ab49dac9a550279f66452696 4958144
00018.tif
F19 6d38cb216247aca970f5c408f4d55950 4958480
00019.tif
F20 5c64c2c46bb497f8dc59084136a94069 4956376
00020.tif
F21 fe3629a92b96f6fb301e6103d9581bb6 4957024
00021.tif
F22 6c4efa89a0798b6caf62c7539fd378d3 4957924
00022.tif
F23 4893b32806a37e21fe7637e7dc53b525 4957700
00023.tif
F24 76216074e672dc729810984c9b10c3e5 4957748
00024.tif
F25 a2a9f1f5bc8d6c3efea1e17be73d4c7d 4958040
00025.tif
F26 46ee44b9bfcdda300ae13a200b55751b 4956624
00026.tif
F27 50ab08d2ad62e28108e667a90f988281 4957940
00027.tif
F28 544372bd1b5ebb269b5d56661b61551d 4957348
00028.tif
F29 3c03a4534b3f49d4b9cc0fc050ed89e9 4958044
00029.tif
F30 ef2598ee3316ad21064d705e791ead0b 4958116
00030.tif
F31 7383918d6ab923c6fff3a59e8def8e9d 4957596
00031.tif
F32 e872f0bd599f13c7c5ae65d363bfec16 4958524
00032.tif
F33 ced2b83a4756327a6a97f2dff96829a2 4958716
00033.tif
F34 c489a4e8d72973567032b45dab5d05f3 4958780
00034.tif
F35 9c3b751776ec9693332bde6b703a7d04 4958848
00035.tif
F36 6941763b8d2ea4c16b6ee5479e5b1614 4958392
00036.tif
F37 d02863e1c0423c563d61ac68755bae37 4958296
00037.tif
F38 a5cabd2d29e18b114ffca5082a85d372 4958368
00038.tif
F39 669f7cbe8c72cca8e08dcf5f250654d1 4957092
00039.tif
F40 0ccbbdb3e4265f63e16b28a67961541a 4956068
00040.tif
F41 dce026c6bbf82c24ce0a2477a675397d 4957796
00041.tif
F42 c0d13073c3a755da13cd91527f4f1acd 4957060
00042.tif
F43 bed500590cc2f95ba727161ea71f7308 4957072
00043.tif
F44 b102d2bf47103e850f464e7b5719eca9 4958228
00044.tif
F45 c08457d0a8e8e15018d559a3836249c8 4957888
00045.tif
F46 194934797a5db4efbcec8ef94f9da099 4955960
00046.tif
F47 c8e61fbfeb737f4cd0111a38b021aae4 4955600
00047.tif
F48 b78b044a2f85fbf065b7b47b761179b1 4958168
00048.tif
F49 0e374189872acca2bd116214acdadfe8 4957712
00049.tif
F50 a3826abbffc09327865df1f02c31f1d5 4957900
00050.tif
F51 baf58f1cb0f67ea89ca4f92d493f2a4d 4958224
00051.tif
F52 179280ec39febc3da9d5fc77af2c57f6
00052.tif
F53 224fb23c96f2cfe2c3e496f5da94285f 4958248
00053.tif
F54 c51995719317a2c8484c7f65a35c7fd0 4958180
00054.tif
F55 a3e36e8d457abde84a2e5d24553beddc 4958212
00055.tif
F56 ae057daa8a0e97a708f82a34f816b94c 4957904
00056.tif
F57 9c3b87c7f8e353454a580c7d4229fbac 4957080
00057.tif
F58 6b2d60df8e015d6ed65e01d9e28db273
00058.tif
F59 e6ef5c6912cd8cb382d7a514041ac4a1 4957012
00059.tif
F60 753cee7da4ce69d6a4acf37196e699d9
00060.tif
F61 ad4ebae540b4cbb146c6ebeef2617dbc 4956812
00061.tif
F62 ac747dad4a2ac36732ad9fdcca93380d 4957740
00062.tif
F63 d98bc9b802d093a8c2a1d2f1f09c3ad0 4957776
00063.tif
F64 cab437d56707db088931d07d87b144de 4957668
00064.tif
F65 fbf9d882b9e70f6cf65a1ce14d6ae128 4959428
00065.tif
F66 b16803e08b4ee5fc03ff0fc4fe604ac5 4959208
00066.tif
F67 6ba8b336e4ec1f9bcc5c7c6399fa24c6 4957728
00067.tif
F68 eb727f0e84383a656080b93bfec1c7cd 4957468
00068.tif
F69 6dc0b963c0e7bf8f7c2bfad8888c2629 4958240
00069.tif
F70 079ab6d2e0774753065c56c6063490ae 4958328
00070.tif
F71 c1dd911449eced5c027c6992fce9b4f5 4957192
00071.tif
F72 fe7c512db528a0f252af52afb46e326d 4957568
00072.tif
F73 b281bb768763be37d9b2b42e43e0a7d3 4957016
00073.tif
F74 4b5f77b1cb7118d56fb3742da860cfe3 4956688
00074.tif
F75 3330d6f5fbdf21750486934aac12df7b 4958052
00075.tif
F77 4da85e799d7fd3f16c6fb2c755fc1ce0 16903020
00077.tif
F78 03c9880e0bd8b69e81f0ffc75fa8b91d 17387604
00078.tif
F79 ddc788adf84196ae6cfb80caf3e868ef 6019348
00079.tif
T1 textplain 7e7b7d6c235fb7ae4c7c2ae39c4642b4 114
00001.txt
T3 206d09fd81fb187429dcc515a0d9cd40 536
00003.txt
T4 ed11574aacce2fff489bc8367cb8d7d8 3209
00004.txt
T5 def4362174bdac9a77caf55625593b37 5076
00005.txt
T6 678e3c20b9e646c5d590c5f55dc3139f 5018
00006.txt
T7 a6fd3d2101a2e6bfc66688cdd7098830 2425
00007.txt
T8 c15cf3fd145ae7d494a2359911ade046 5085
00008.txt
T9 cbdf2a63b5e5ae1eb11ccd68b7f90f0f 2899
00009.txt
T10 5409e800067f4a74c1ab4c183ad20027 3386
00010.txt
T11 778d4db4b916a4f99ae87a13984aa130 850
00011.txt
T12 22b9e9641e52a83389ba09f74f890f58 642
00012.txt
T13 9ecaa2465555ea5603ae3c151c51b332 1260
00013.txt
T14 8e1af98a9e30a74138a335266fcbf0ce 3461
00014.txt
T15 6b069d202d7ddb674149ef83fb000b41 4925
00015.txt
T16 823ae159c80082067c249a79e1ad1add 5211
00016.txt
T17 b4d91556497f59d6bbd2b3ec64255287 3221
00017.txt
T18 c5cf4cee20521093bab59a81f59ac3ce 5348
00018.txt
T19 c08692ffd32ff98ae1b14264b006f11d 5621
00019.txt
T20 acbf399441504e446bd1443e54f451c4 1020
00020.txt
T21 2b16f65593eecdf152f5e3764014ba14 2124
00021.txt
T22 f18b307743b9a5d3738dabbeab9bdb70 4064
00022.txt
T23 a294bd73a3429fea67eedbea5e76aadc 3030
00023.txt
T24 7e826a8c5fa747e5aaf74fd01e1fe9e4 5005
00024.txt
T25 556f089db1895a49e1f3191673e75218 4725
00025.txt
T26 cd4d9a5cca6ed4c3ff574ebc9db8f67e 3303
00026.txt
T27 051dd10c22bef88e090d06ef26931ddf 606
00027.txt
T28 26b0da13dc1045643d5b035df23bd955 4521
00028.txt
T29 4b026ffc5a8319b6ea8ca163a6c58010 5383
00029.txt
T30 9f91918609cbf4a25106ec57e479246e 5441
00030.txt
T31 2bf5c9f53ae4960d956af8c8a9d953f7 4311
00031.txt
T32 8514a1e275755f98bcfc3045eea8e2fd 3979
00032.txt
T33 ee5d2de24591cdd803d72d49cf08bb93 3212
00033.txt
T34 33a89d77acb86f62b1af7edec6771dba 3437
00034.txt
T35 1fed97d05d08079546e0db7807864753 3427
00035.txt
T36 53ac89fd07db5cd08c76a5f04748bc52 3933
00036.txt
T37 f0d3fe6255de97f0c29ce35459035d04 2604
00037.txt
T38 b2b1f209c6e86700a8c0a48f92016a83 3216
00038.txt
T39 3104d2fd9d22438a2382843671db5ea5 1961
00039.txt
T40 571d45f36adc00ce7376cef67c2cd79c 2845
00040.txt
T41 3fea1ff3bd5250f7f3dfa7a71f47af8a 2574
00041.txt
T42 d35ef143c198919d2969e481fde1e5f6 3727
00042.txt
T43 389215cd5a89435ca7b57055ec1e0b67 1456
00043.txt
T44 9e37e4d44b28afd9765fcb542b245d79 5283
00044.txt
T45 a749578719395c7c5b5268500014e814 5185
00045.txt
T46 9667c877a8648ff685c65b74a3f667b8 3055
00046.txt
T47 86bf59aae5a1464c0eff5885f3f625ff 2912
00047.txt
T48 4566c2d6426e24392f46d02fcaf3f0c1
00048.txt
T49 e0846d651729808692694c8d817ae7ba 4222
00049.txt
T50 d934c99a7ca64490060d43eb883916a9 5528
00050.txt
T51 f777e0a4d07913b81cc55395dcfaa90f 5633
00051.txt
T52 cdde8d4fe8d8ba8859fd3b37ac428cf1 2542
00052.txt
T53 530984bed56a6548022bb10a0e2bf4af 5447
00053.txt
T54 05f948317118886501a52a585adf563d 5397
00054.txt
T55 1006d37cd352ba09c80b7b54892c5588 5280
00055.txt
T56 8c19d4af30578f37263c651421d4e3b0 2620
00056.txt
T57 18ccb8e0a13556fe73d44b4d15d830a9 3899
00057.txt
T58 65260b21f4f1f283c890c0eb30310c9d 566
00058.txt
T59 463c2eaab13812426de5a13c75a79c63 1881
00059.txt
T60 d3d6abd3e61a585b4f459bff5ce12316 2249
00060.txt
T61 a66e079e11910dacbe64181ea011f095 3479
00061.txt
T62 b0dacbe78e9a882194b81ffdf46e6936 5171
00062.txt
T63 f5fd4085b314c9734eae889d4030a2da 4808
00063.txt
T64 48c77eadbd1528b1fbb2ecfd96afe9e3 3020
00064.txt
T65 6f12d419521a239c400ca23368818fe4 487
00065.txt
T66 6dcb370c03d00ddfdaa060224e3e02e9 527
00066.txt
T67 14be4cb27e5219d0be08636f5cf3bb90 2435
00067.txt
T68 cb0bd9215a3fb7cf99af13d96178539c 714
00068.txt
T69 638234ad571f9924faa1cfd8467670f2 5459
00069.txt
T70 5735e5f39cfde559185858d6c17522bf 4448
00070.txt
T71 a19fb26d0425c524d64129a1ed41940f 6228
00071.txt
T72 e11210c8edafcf0d54c19089539d1762 9922
00072.txt
T73 2ab2e827b18c8d8cd037ddf66ba5d16f 7351
00073.txt
T74 bd8dc85e7b31e2af9925d57a4ed6432a 5105
00074.txt
T75 c299fb06ea798fb0b5dd54fbfc1f3fab 5218
00075.txt
T79 81051bcc2cf1bedf378224b0a93e2877
00079.txt
J999999 5b842038863c50b57d79bc9692fa4507 44718
00001thm.jpg
AR1 textx-pro a7ae7cbdaa321698adb77ceddc30227a 401
00001.pro
AR2 ac2f8f9de6a0824e16cdcbeeea48b128 121231
00001.QC.jpg
AR3 599089f6df13b2430893384e00d30057 49092
00002.QC.jpg
AR4 8bc6a16d5c4eccb6da7256815bd81820 6031
00003.pro
AR5 3469554269cd6e4c0e04caa8ddd69bed 90627
00003.QC.jpg
AR6 7329cec97d49eafc11be2f712c09b76c 75675
00004.pro
AR7 ea830c65a2109e85ea0e6de0d0026b1e 79459
00004.QC.jpg
AR8 7ee7aa6c41014b74432ad34d55227824 123197
00005.pro
AR9 1feb672b5c43a67e5bd2d02c4c10873d 105257
00005.QC.jpg
AR10 ee17e2bb57b4a4370a1c7bca99972f0e 119514
00006.pro
AR11 40bd48cb7fe179e8ec33b294a060134d 104152
00006.QC.jpg
AR12 7455ec87d854aa424868fe51c181f903 50695
00007.pro
AR13 91a3a081e9d129460224971d454eca46 61064
00007.QC.jpg
AR14 e3095e83a8958b20d0a927f819b6e978 121042
00008.pro
AR15 683d5f6d591318e62ee00adc60198e2c 105771
00008.QC.jpg
AR16 b5b95b6d0f5ca4e8480df432e5c8674d 67170
00009.pro
AR17 ec51d3a05e3ac03914bb2074c7315e73 96758
00009.QC.jpg
AR18 610f5615290bcd1daeb63fb150ddfa12 82408
00010.pro
AR19 276767b1d3267816c2fcfaa3be899350 89325
00010.QC.jpg
AR20 c136983294f6b525df43372fe897a4f0 19893
00011.pro
AR21 cfb5826578062924dc9195c111a5206d 90442
00011.QC.jpg
AR22 d420ea7b886528c53fc0d45d4ac855b2 15222
00012.pro
AR23 60c3e4b65e7afd121a3cf2bc8f18f834 80553
00012.QC.jpg
AR24 da0ab0f4b0bf5d54edf9e92c27bb646f 30789
00013.pro
AR25 d7430804edfa785efbe284d487e8bea5 72544
00013.QC.jpg
AR26 627e94fb799a95c01348a8b9f5a19a91 84173
00014.pro
AR27 49a6424c041ba88477752075157f2ef6 83078
00014.QC.jpg
AR28 6dc7d30544069dea81caa6bc17dd2010 114247
00015.pro
AR29 b0cc78589c71e996fbd20c211c71a3e3 103877
00015.QC.jpg
AR30 c7383768efccbc39d8e2f0550831a52e 124851
00016.pro
AR31 047febfee4ef7c29721cf514e80c0513 107495
00016.QC.jpg
AR32 a1b480bd2d90012194fd2ca41d2195d0 78634
00017.pro
AR33 5f9e10feff5a5427f85fd5ca26345214 102967
00017.QC.jpg
AR34 7db93f86028144a993aa716dce071ecd 129892
00018.pro
AR35 8e3112ffbec7e907805d143e9e990e00 110115
00018.QC.jpg
AR36 9c4409faba44fb646299dbcb0718eb5b 137876
00019.pro
AR37 620586a152036ae366c8f375416f647d 116081
00019.QC.jpg
AR38 bc8968cd0d2f4b914dad3a337c546f75 25194
00020.pro
AR39 d23964b7994c993a3a656588ca837b82 80317
00020.QC.jpg
AR40 29f2c1efc5eb6ff42b0e66c21480bef3 51553
00021.pro
AR41 561418c913986e7f43195bba9423c25a 89100
00021.QC.jpg
AR42 88583c198e29bbb02a8539c654cc1e42 95453
00022.pro
AR43 e05a7ba90d6f48dd09a5a7a8fdf20df7 102074
00022.QC.jpg
AR44 ff0ea782a66778eb070a177127d0d754 70674
00023.pro
AR45 e576f474da723bca1c94a7bc202c6f39 97124
00023.QC.jpg
AR46 3f75b46be0e377059db4de5374df30a2 119361
00024.pro
AR47 7582aafa4891fe1a774e47e01e1911b4 102093
00024.QC.jpg
AR48 0374f5aa5f36f2be54a4826e0abf0c02 114726
00025.pro
AR49 b83aefeb2f89052c2024d868080c3537 111257
00025.QC.jpg
AR50 1b7ac344924416314b0c42e363259134 74817
00026.pro
AR51 1b21cad09710d57bdf794475c3622f26 87610
00026.QC.jpg
AR52 4fd7130e90b4a8e5f4844ecef85d2773 7740
00027.pro
AR53 b5a99d4ea4ce0c08cfa5bab0b3b1a047 56149
00027.QC.jpg
AR54 7c0daec01eeb1e1816387b229e0a4562 109903
00028.pro
AR55 27d5b3c2f30b3e78ca6bce0517904435 96843
00028.QC.jpg
AR56 fa24bfa41934f4403f4e10cc7998fd3c 130750
00029.pro
AR57 947fe4749fa09f23717aeb97e0bb0ec2 110181
00029.QC.jpg
AR58 b9ed88310cd23b79146725c424cb07d9 131033
00030.pro
AR59 90e9be7197a2cf8cfc9d87c666f2816c 112450
00030.QC.jpg
AR60 16173ef58256a5aee9c53a45d8ab14bd 87721
00031.pro
AR61 0934cebff692dc9e1a6b2b664f37f3ea 92048
00031.QC.jpg
AR62 868f9f9e44298aeed284ae5c58cc9433 82269
00032.pro
AR63 fb658a7d78b8c8e0efe572632b83e3c0 98689
00032.QC.jpg
AR64 eb423d061ff4f2e0b9c3544b640bbc05 69992
00033.pro
AR65 b04dcb42adf1729ac360d1ae05c8482a 99413
00033.QC.jpg
AR66 254d65b82c4af30a2919e2ddb814d7f8 70242
00034.pro
AR67 31eedc658e06a8f229a82f7a6a5c2c45 99385
00034.QC.jpg
AR68 835bfd2a34dc93127474bd30beae9ae5 70027
00035.pro
AR69 fb65916e5845b679cd74af0eda50b5e0 108124
00035.QC.jpg
AR70 fc0910ac219d089f3e59a649a87b58d6 82801
00036.pro
AR71 7e1bac989070fa2740fa552f2622b240 101019
00036.QC.jpg
AR72 9bf7e7da304f21176da1b13fe2006b41 54416
00037.pro
AR73 725b9c38081820c0042ddd0c571f28d4 94599
00037.QC.jpg
AR74 b42238b5dac7a5fbf717553230c13e63 57897
00038.pro
AR75 9a3d11b469de00459e1998b00de72f27 96007
00038.QC.jpg
AR76 ece301a5889082acd44cb79c9b3c28f6 41939
00039.pro
AR77 783fad76a1aa98d3fcb738bd2069fa5c 79120
00039.QC.jpg
AR78 0a005dfc01bffd1fac666f8c179eda7d 66569
00040.pro
AR79 4f5fd897be4860d40b26e6873c765b53 70956
00040.QC.jpg
AR80 28366082d004eb7a1e0fd2a8453777fd 62218
00041.pro
AR81 e4618a5eee2c3eacd381f45336c17db8 100136
00041.QC.jpg
AR82 8e69f3478747e332698f7655bcb2f021 90182
00042.pro
AR83 fa6716f03ebfc5ed2b526b2bcb4e8ff3 90112
00042.QC.jpg
AR84 4944e567937e8e83e1d3b5ffa0d6fdef 35164
00043.pro
AR85 a8a3671c9f2b621e5920319c56211e55 87105
00043.QC.jpg
AR86 82cf3a600199bfde9c42685e2edc18a3 128163
00044.pro
AR87 ae49d7b8da48e282bab89c758b9da0f9 111873
00044.QC.jpg
AR88 858509dabf97a02fe2f8e6a09f48d393 125411
00045.pro
AR89 db1660f8e442b28cb4d42e21cab932d6 107790
00045.QC.jpg
AR90 dc6057aa4dd25b3cbce93c3d86b054f6 69023
00046.pro
AR91 dc7ed497a597e9134a7f817a88824eb2 73578
00046.QC.jpg
AR92 2a696ee754ec787a7bd59f8166e5309d 63423
00047.pro
AR93 84827f2f091587f205c02ab683d6822a 65991
00047.QC.jpg
AR94 f0fb21e4e92ab2c62772a57a67f67e48 130044
00048.pro
AR95 406101ccc8c2c321957293dba9b46e55 111336
00048.QC.jpg
AR96 d6cf82bf4272608361c3dfb5722eda07 99702
00049.pro
AR97 d3a13e53c190c69a3c0a65ae474d43bb 106250
00049.QC.jpg
AR98 0b89bedc7794054c39a8285f988a9664 134775
00050.pro
AR99 b3ab7518ba126a6663535b42d1d1bc2a 110182
00050.QC.jpg
AR100 75d9abe555bbb5a355c6221fe4a9da03 137707
00051.pro
AR101 c90508376787dcd16001a054cee2b2a1 114430
00051.QC.jpg
AR102 81f1a461c299d6a4c0778e610b9ee06a 60583
00052.pro
AR103 efbbe5e76de2bb98464eaa7c6b600ae3 107907
00052.QC.jpg
AR104 0c79344bd8f2922111f7cd5eb012d803 132394
00053.pro
AR105 dc2cf518a2eb9c337d6b938b9f9c569d 112058
00053.QC.jpg
AR106 03ed955bddc8cad9798db9383336f8ed 130830
00054.pro
AR107 66f49cb292e1a9c62ccecea8fc78b060 112324
00054.QC.jpg
AR108 1cbfa06d54f61d92ba74b2bad9a953a0 128453
00055.pro
AR109 eea7cb1206698709bab98c986c8f265b 111282
00055.QC.jpg
AR110 ce4f133dd1570be1b7d584a596fc20af 63712
00056.pro
AR111 7be2c3d810a74e935da2437b8e98a5c7 101212
00056.QC.jpg
AR112 d0c079e93ff899229337005f4d243117 94745
00057.pro
AR113 ef5521de671e119c69a103cab7b1694c 88214
00057.QC.jpg
AR114 10e419f2b3cf207863d4386714ad8c91 12866
00058.pro
AR115 ac2815fd2dc6a89ff39ce4656c804e2b 100905
00058.QC.jpg
AR116 2f01614dea93f1f181b7dc4fef4041a3 42626
00059.pro
AR117 f0a94396236995be7516b50f073fe9e2 79036
00059.QC.jpg
AR118 bdc22d12ac71f7fead8cd16587914868 48284
00060.pro
AR119 c2dfbd0a9f03f458014e86461329f618 84264
00060.QC.jpg
AR120 2483537a1a2f4adc34ed2eade5e778c3 81545
00061.pro
AR121 fc8823a74f7a86b69700bb42b142b973 82529
00061.QC.jpg
AR122 16bc77dc61153794919c0ad20a8ed2b8 99635
00062.pro
AR123 c7c5eaea9f4c9feb8f228f8c64d8feaa 98286
00062.QC.jpg
AR124 c5ff303e9a8fa3f39d087816ee64ffc0 88150
00063.pro
AR125 f95d8eff6472a9ccc0ab7e8ae4775f51 96805
00063.QC.jpg
AR126 f79f7040a559d62c8ec54cb1e3b364ab 69733
00064.pro
AR127 3cd4458c097a07c916b02b4473893eae 91895
00064.QC.jpg
AR128 06dca5642be385d9275661417193c3ea 8496
00065.pro
AR129 e711bd09332c11bbe74fdce7a7af93bb 98915
00065.QC.jpg
AR130 c51d166a3c85e1f8717cf30cf1f2a14c 8737
00066.pro
AR131 172f0fac280498ddd9066e41d1152229 94287
00066.QC.jpg
AR132 1023512626d9973e31fd7ee305dcb9d9 61321
00067.pro
AR133 810527936cf3c3449c91e5bc9c078cf3 103481
00067.QC.jpg
AR134 53b0b966fb702fdccba4033f1a04c199 13799
00068.pro
AR135 3d580c442e8ddaf20121c1d042d97b39 95770
00068.QC.jpg
AR136 ccf6139f112754171d63521c7584cac6 128335
00069.pro
AR137 1a5e0d599d31206abdef9006a1b67b69 108470
00069.QC.jpg
AR138 65d95eadb1e98616fa1011b000ac32ba 93480
00070.pro
AR139 77dfe9620db99653a934ee9c01e8076b 108882
00070.QC.jpg
AR140 cd5dea34c7f66cd5283236fc7c0e4e57 140229
00071.pro
AR141 58b020d55760e02139ac3704c058d76f 92619
00071.QC.jpg
AR142 3fb096b3a901c293a15509615d5b5506 226866
00072.pro
AR143 98f1a2bc566c1d48b726e6d3d81939b2 105537
00072.QC.jpg
AR144 49b1dd7e9e7e36ba0383a8f1a0c8683d 154233
00073.pro
AR145 c1ddc9d4f807e72e4f801d909a040ca4 90250
00073.QC.jpg
AR146 317274551acffcc8c7fc0eb93453d950 105095
00074.pro
AR147 5e4262205269658abe2f4a9756656f3e 81617
00074.QC.jpg
AR148 27a2a8c57e6c966e7d4b2445e57336bd 108931
00075.pro
AR149 8bc3aeb69f23691369829e6c4b505a53 99761
00075.QC.jpg
AR150 a28e986c42bf93e273b6b38b52b02f38 46946
00077.QC.jpg
AR151 f08988816536627a5dc830e68a446e54 67675
00078.QC.jpg
AR152 c0e87ccb0f55e8234fa8936f92ca3910 219
00079.pro
AR153 437e40b94ccb28fe55a2637353abf2fe 61214
00079.QC.jpg
AR154 4492e22d7702459a38754c6d7e113e11 24
processing.instr
AR155 7bc919cbe9721369a352d09522c553b8 113568
UF00065513_00075.mets
METS:structMap STRUCT1 mixed
METS:div DMDID ORDER 0 main
D1 Front Cover
P1 Page
METS:fptr FILEID
P2
D2 Dru's red sea Chapter
P3 Plate
P4 561
P5 562 3
P6 563 4
D4 Nid-nodding Poem
P7 564
D5 Dory-fishing
P8 565
P9
P10 567
D6 The sylvan party 5
P11 568
P12 569
D7 Green covers and brown
P13 570
D8 Little Elsie 7
P14 571
D9 A jolly fellowship 8
P15 572
P16 573
P17 574
P18 575
P19 576
P20 577
P21 578
P22 579
P23 580
D10 talk about royal children
P24 581
P25 582
P26 583
P27 584
D11 Company to supper 10
P28 585
P29 586
P30 587
D12 Blossom-boy Tokio 11
P31 588
P32 589
P33 590
P34 591
P35 592
P36 593
P37 594
P38 595
P39 596
D13 poor little mother 12
P40 597 (MULTIPLE)
P41 598
P42 599
D14 Blown away 13
P43 600
P44 601
P45 602
D15 Rattle-te-bang 14
P46 603
D16 Eyebright 15
P47 604
P48 605
P49
P50 607
P51 608
P52 609
P53 610
P54 611
P55 612
P56 613
D17 wonderful child 16
P57 614
P58 615
D18 "Glories" 17
P59 616
P60 617
D19 Catching the cat 18
P61 618
D20 How make a hammock 19
P62 619
P63 620
P64 621
D21 Fourth July march (music) 20
P65 622
D22 For four hands 21
P66 623
D23 Harold came tell himself story 22
P67 624
P68 625
D24 Jack-in-the-pulpit 23
P69 626
P70 627
D25 letter-box
P71 628
P72 629
D26 Young contributors' department 25
P73 630
D27 riddle-box 26
P74 631
P75 632
D28 27 Back
P77
P78
D29 28 Spine
P79
METS:behaviorSec VIEWS Options available user for viewing this item
METS:behavior VIEW1 STRUCTID Default View
METS:mechanism Viewer JPEGs Procedure xlink:type simple xlink:title JPEG_Viewer()
VIEW2 Alternate
zoomable JPEG2000s JP2_Viewer()
INTERFACES Banners or interfaces which resource can appear under
INT1 Interface
UFDC_Interface_Loader


St. Nicholas, vol. 6, no. 9
ALL VOLUMES CITATION SEARCH THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00075
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas, vol. 6, no. 9
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: UF00065513:00075

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Dru's red sea
        Plate
        Page 561
        Page 562
        Page 563
    Nid-nodding
        Page 564
    Dory-fishing
        Page 565
        Page 566
        Page 567
    The sylvan party
        Page 568
        Page 569
    Green covers and brown
        Page 570
    Little Elsie
        Page 571
    A jolly fellowship
        Page 572
        Page 573
        Page 574
        Page 575
        Page 576
        Page 577
        Page 578
        Page 579
        Page 580
    A talk about royal children
        Page 581
        Page 582
        Page 583
        Page 584
    Company to supper
        Page 585
        Page 586
        Page 587
    Blossom-boy of Tokio
        Page 588
        Page 589
        Page 590
        Page 591
        Page 592
        Page 593
        Page 594
        Page 595
        Page 596
    A poor little mother - The child and the image
        Page 597
        Page 598
        Page 599
    Blown away
        Page 600
        Page 601
        Page 602
    Rattle-te-bang
        Page 603
    Eyebright
        Page 604
        Page 605
        Page 606
        Page 607
        Page 608
        Page 609
        Page 610
        Page 611
        Page 612
        Page 613
    A wonderful child - "Hay-foot! Straw-foot!"
        Page 614
        Page 615
    "Glories"
        Page 616
        Page 617
    Catching the cat
        Page 618
    How to make a hammock
        Page 619
        Page 620
        Page 621
    Fourth of July march (music)
        Page 622
    For four little hands (music)
        Page 623
    How Harold came to tell himself a story
        Page 624
        Page 625
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 626
        Page 627
    The letter-box
        Page 628
        Page 629
    Young contributors' department
        Page 630
    The riddle-box
        Page 631
        Page 632
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text









































Ij

fb









. -P I 1,, ,i
.6 U.1 M ,, ".,,I'I v.,l 1 1, hil I



r






... ". . . . ...










.7




-i 'l .






'3_





"THE VOICE WAS SO NEAR THAT DRU SPRANG TO HER FEET."
[See page 562.]

















ST. NICHOLAS.




JULY, 1879.


[Copyright, x879, by Scribner & Co.]




DRU'S RED SEA.

BY MRS. MARY A. PARSONS,


LIZIBUTH!" rang out from the low brown
house. Dru was not mean enough to run and
hide, though she knew that, as her sister was not
there, her own name would be the next one called,
surely enough.
Drusilla !" came, dir -..i, ,in a lower and as-
sured tone, that showed the mother had seen her
younger daughter, where she stood sulkily expect-
ant, kicking with her bare feet the chips that
strewed the ground by the chopping-block; for no
child in the neighborhood of Dru's house, thirty
years ago, thought of wearing shoes in the sum-
mer-time, excepting to go to "meeting" or "down
to town."
Really, Dru was cross at being called in from
play to take care of the baby, as she supposed.
The fact was, she had thought the baby very
charming while it was a new thing, when one
could fancy it floating in through the window,
while everybody was asleep, clad in delicate white
robes that looked in the moonlight like fleecy
clouds. But when it not only stayed and made
itself perfectly at home,-nay, expected the whole
house to wait on it; moreover, when, if it did n't
get instantly whatever it wanted, it screamed so
that you could n't hear yourself think,"-why
then, though Dru would n't have gone to the length'
of calling it a little plague," or a bother," lest
it should go :...-,i.,., out again never to return, she
did go so far as to say, one very trying day, that
" if babies were angels, she did n't see why they
did n't act a little more like 'em."
VOL. VI.-38.


"Be a little lady now," said the pale, careworn
mother, gently. "I want to talk with you, for
I 'm in trouble."
Ah Dru was so sorry she had looked cross,
since, after all, it was n't jl,.1;l.. 'she had been
called in for, but to be consulted as if she had been
grown up! Instead of saying' what she felt,
though, she acted it. Slipping 'past her. mother
she ran to the cradle where 'the crying. baby lay,
and, catching him up, walked arounft with him,
saying, in explanation:
So I can hear yoti better, mother!"
Mrs. Ide took down a letter from the top of the
clock-case. Letters were not put into envelopes
then as now, but were folded skillfully and sealed
with wax or wafers.
"You see, father had to send off this letter, with
money in it, right away. He 's been bothered to
death to get it, or they 'd.'a' taken the house-place
from him. He had to go to the meadows to-day,
and told lme to be sure and give this to the baker
to take to the p:-i-..-.r.:.- Either the baker 's not
been along, or else he came while I was -down to
the spring rihsin' the clothes, and went 'thout my
hearing him. You see, Lizibuth 's gone off blue-
berryin', has n't she?"
Yes," answered Dru in a muffled voice, for the
baby's face lay against hers and he was now fast
asleep.
Here, I '11 take the baby," said Mrs. Ide, for
she wanted Dru's whole attention to what she was
about to say.


VOL. VI.







DRU'S RED SEA.


Do you s'pose you could go down to town and
carry this letter safely?"
Oh, mother I 'd try," answered Dru, with
that look of hers which made her mother say,
sometimes, "She 's a faithful creature if she sets
out to be, and that 's a fact."
While her mother was laying the sleeping baby
in his cradle again, Dru wondered, but dared-not
ask, whether she was to dress up," lest her
mother should think her too silly to be trusted;
but she came near dancing-indeed there was one
little hop-when her mother brought out her
meeting' clothes,-stout shoes, tucked pantalets,
white skirt with knitted oak-leaf edging round the
bottom, checked muslin dress, and, yes it really
was --
My best bonnet !" came out in a voice meant
to be calm, but with a little ripple of laughter in it,
which two-year-old Johnny caught up and echoed
so lustily that he had to be set out among his mud-
pies again, for fear of waking baby. Of course,
he toddled back again at once to see what was
going on.
The bonnet was of pink satin, trimmed with rib-
bon and with a bunch of feathery-leaved flowers
high up on one side. Aunt Sarah had given it to
her a year ago, and Dru regarded it still as the
"very han'somest bonnet anywhere 'round these
parts."
Mrs. Ide did not think stockings were needful, as
the pantalets came to the tops of the shoes, and
the weather was warm.
Dru, holding the letter tightly clasped in her
right hand, walked by the few houses in the neigh-
borhood with very short steps and extreme com-
placency. Then came a long stretch of woods and
bare hot hills, with only Deacon Jones's house for
more than a mile.
For the first time, Dru realized the distance, and
that the shoes cramped her active little feet. Argu-
ing that in case she met anybody the satin bonnet
would keep her dignity safe, she sat down on a
clean stone by the roadside, and, still holding the
letter tightly, she quickly untied and took off the
offending shoes.
Then she played they were alive, though it was
hardly play with her, big child as she was, for she
said, when Lizibuth laughed at her once:
It seems to me that everything' 's got just as
much sense 's I have, only we can't hear 'em talk
among themselves."
So now, holding one shoe in each hand, she beat
them together, saying:
"You've pinched my feet like everything! 'n'
I 'm goin' to give you a good whippin' !"
Then.she made a noise like crying, to add to the
effect; but, suddenly, she stopped, held one shoe


above the other, and said, in a creaky voice like a
squeaking shoe:
"You gump, to cry don't you see the beating
shakes the dust off? there 's a providence in 't, I
do believe."
Hullo, sissy !"
The voice was so near that Dru sprang to her
feet in terror, dropping one shoe in her effort to
clasp the letter more firmly. This action was not
lost on the speaker, whose bloodshot eyes, as he
stared sleepily from the bushes, showed the child
that she had waked up what we call a "tramp,"
but what she would have called an old trav'ler";
not that this one was old,-the name was given
because most stragglers were so.
What 've you got there, sissy? Some money
for me?"
Yes," answered Dru, with dry lips, not daring
to lie even to him. But not for you."
She knew this was saucy, and she feared the man
would beat or even kill her for it, or to get posses-
sion of the money so, without stopping to pick up
the dropped shoe, she started to run.
Hearing the man spring from the bushes and
give chase, poor Dru uttered a wild scream of ter-
ror and flew like the wind toward the town.
"I wont hurt ye, sissy! Come back and get
your shoe !" called the man, in a wheedling tone;
but finding she only fled the faster, he yelled with
an oath:
Stop or I '11 shoot ye!"
Dru never doubted he would keep his word,
though she had seen no gun in his hand, so she
darted into the birches that lined one side of the
road, and sprang for the old stone wall that stood
back of them.
Climbing this wall too hastily, she not only
dropped the other shoe, but also loosened the
stones so that a dozen or more fell with a loud
crash, and, directly after, the man heard a splash
and a cry.
Squeezing through the thick growth of under-
brush, he easily found the gap in the wall. Cross-
ing this, he passed cautiously down a steep bank,
for his eyes, dazzled by the mid-day sun, did not at
once become used to the dim light of the deep
woods where he found himself.
Presently, he saw at his feet a dark pool of water,
its surface a little ruffled as if a stone might have
rolled in, but no sign of the child.
As he stooped to pick up a stick to try the depth
of the pool, he heard the sound of a horse gal-
loping along the road in the direction whence Dru
had come.
The girl had screamed-she might have been
heard Worse, she might have fallen into the
water stunned by one of the larger stones, and as







DRU'S R.


this thought flashed across his mind, he reasoned
that his own safety lay in flight; so he quickly
plunged into the thick forest and was out of sight
in a moment.
Where, all this time, was poor little Dru? She
had indeed fallen into the water; but, though she
knew directly it was only Stillbrook, and that it
was not deep enough to drown her, still, finding
herself helplessly sliding in, her first thought was
that the precious letter would be wet, and this
dread had made her cry out. But she held the
letter high over her head, and the splash only
sprinkled the outside; and as soon as she struck
bottom, she had presence of mind enough to dart
under the edge of the bridge across which the road
lay.
Here she recovered breath sufficiently to '"reckon
damages." The letter was not hurt,-so far, good.
Next, the pink bonnet had received the addition,
for a minute, of a ragged veil of water-drops. As
for pantalets and white muslin dress, they could be
washed, and Dru did n't give them a thought.
Had she not felt that life and property were in
danger, her very soul would have been torn at the
ruin of her bonnet. And how any modern little
girl with half a dozen hats to the season would
have laughed at her, to be sure !
She did feel a lump rising in her throat, as she
saw the feathery leaves hanging limp-"like a
hen's tail in the rain," she thought,--but the
money; how was that to be taken safely to town ?
She dared not venture back lest the man had only
pretended to run away, nor did she dare climb up
into the road, fbr the same reason. Could she go
under the bridge? The water was not deep, not
up to her knees; but the bridge was dark and low.
She would have to crawl through with the help
of only one hand, while in the other she held the
letter.
Dru shuddered.
If there 's snakes there overhead, I should be
awful scared."
Then she remembered the path made through
the Red Sea, and pondered:
I don't see why my father's house aint of just
as much consequence to him and his folks, as the
Israelites' things were to them. 1 'm agoin' to
pray for this brook to dry up so that I can get
through."
No sooner said than done; though, mind you,
Dru did n't say anything aloud,-the man might
be listening, just as she was.
She shut her eyes tight, and clasped both hands
over the letter, and prayed :
Oh Lord I make the dark and dreadful brook
as dry as the Israelites found the Red Sea, 'cause
my father's house would be sold if I could n't get


ED SEA. 563


the money in this letter into the post-office to-
day. Amen."
Dru hurried the last part, finding herself begin-
ning to cry; but she opened her eyes a little bit
at a time, dreading, while she hoped, to see an
immediate answer. But no the brook flowed on
as calmly as ever, and as deep.
Dru's first feeling was relief, her next, disap-
pointment, and, it must be confessed, a sense of
injury, as if she had not been as well worth notice
as the ancient Jews had been.
Then, with a swelling heart and defiant face, she
thought:
'I 'm agoin' through, anyhow "
Peeping cautiously around to learn if the old
trav'ler" were in sight, she crept out from behind
the big stone where she had hidden, and began
her tedious journey under the bridge.
It was wet, surely, but the water was warm, for
the current set from the farther side where the sun
was shining. No snakes appeared to terrify, or be
terrified by the odd-enough sight of a limp pink
bonnet and dirty white dress bobbing up and down
in that place.
Dru's feet were not tender, and she made very
good progress. As she neared the end of the
bridge, she heard a hurried trampling, and her
heart stood still for a moment, but it was only
cows hastening down from the hot pasture to
drink.
As they dipped their noses, taking in long deep
draughts without breathing, Dru thankfully mur-
mured:
"I 'm glad my prayer was n't answered. I
could get through, and the cows were so dry."
When she suddenly appeared before them, how-
ever, it was their turn to draw back, afraid, but
Dru said softly :
Poor Mooly co-boss co-boss co-boss! "
Reassured, they bent down their heads to drink
again.
As for Dru, she gave one eager look backward,
as she quitted the protecting bridge, -one long
look across the pasture toward Deacon Jones's,
and, finding the coast apparently clear, she ran
again, feeling that the dreadful man was behind,
yet knowing he was not.
She was breathless when she knocked at the
Deacon's door, and to his wondering question,
What little drowned rat is this?" she could only
gasp out:
Dru--silla-Jane-Ide !"
Then she held up the letter, and burst out
crying.
Come here, mother !" cried the alarmed
deacon.
Presently kind Mrs. Jones had changed Dru's







[JULY,


NID-NODDING.


wet clothing for dry wraps, had made her drink a
bowl of ginger tea, so hot it almost choked her,
and given her to eat no less than six seed-cakes.
By that time, the deacon brought the "shay"
to the front door, to take the important letter to
the office himself. Afterward, he carried Dru
home in state.
When her mother had heard the story, and
looked in her little girl's face for any sign of fever
or other hurt from the trial she had gone through,
and found nothing wrong, she kissed Dru and
called her her faithful child."
Talking it over that night, Dru said to her
mother, gayly:


I guess God thinks it's no use to be answerin'
all the funny prayers some folks make."
Why, I reckon He answered yours," said her
mother. It was better for you to help yourself.
Of course, He helped you some, too, for you say
you felt afraid at first, and then you were n't."
Then I reckon He thought the Israelites were
a babyish set, mother."
"Well," said Mrs. Ide, "may be we had n't
ought to say so, 'specially o' Moses'n' Aaron; but,
mostly, they did act childish, seems to me."
And we are to ask Him to help us whatever
way He 's a mind to? "
Certainly we are, dear."


NID-NODDING.

BY LucY LARCOM.

NID-NID-NODDING in the sun,
Poppy-buds hang over one by one;
All the garden-alleys glow with heat;
Slow and languid are the little feet,
Glad to linger in the door-way cool,
Home at noon from school.

Nid-nid-nodding in the sun,
Where the lazy little brooklets run
Through the meadow, swings an idle bird,
Chirps the faintest carol ever heard,
Twittering through the tinkle of the rill,-
Then the nest is still.

Nid-nid-nodding in the sun,
Droop the heavy grasses every one,
Kissing down the drowsy laddie's eye;-
Croons a locust from the field close by;-
Lost in dells of dream-land, cool and deep,
He is fast asleep.




.. .,1 -, -- n-. .
-- -- .' --- .. ",
S,. -- .- .r

A_'







DORY-FISHING.


DORY-FISHING.


.. BY FRANK H

i ITH perhaps an exception in favor
I of the capricious canoe, there is no
tl species of craft which can glide from
S beneath its unaccustomed occupant
with more startling ease than a
I '' fisherman's dory.
S ;| This characteristic, with the fact
.. that it is light, sharp, narrow, and
flat-bottomed, suggests to the aver-
age landsman, that a dory is not a
very safe craft. Yet the question
of safety depends largely upon the
man having the management. If skillfully han-
dled, a dory will ride out a gale in mid-ocean with
comparative ease, when a ship's long-boat would
probably be swamped.
The important point under such circumstances
is to keep the little craft, as the sailors say, "head
on to the sea"; which means that the bow must
continually be presented to the on-coming wave.
Thus managed, the dory, from its extreme buoy-
ancy, dances like a cork on the summit of terrible
wave-crests, which would break over and fill a
heavier boat.
But if the heart of the rower fails, or worse still,
if his thole-pin gives way, or his oar breaks, then
is he in danger, indeed. The dory, swinging
broadside to the sea, is rolled over in an instant,
and becomes the sport of the waves, while its occu-
pant finds himself struggling in the ocean.
The three methods most in Vogue among fisher-
men for taking cod on the Banks of Newfoundland,
are these,-" hand-lining," "trawling," and "dory-
fishing." The two former have been often de-
scribed. It is sufficient for me to say that in
"hand-lining," all hands fish from the vessel's deck,
while in trawling," a line sometimes a mile in
length, to which hundreds of baited hooks are
attached, is sunk to the proper depth, and visited
once or twice in the twenty-four hours if the
weather permits-so that the fish may be taken
off and the hooks rebaited.
But in dory-fishing," a dory is allotted to each
of the crew, in which, unless the weather be excep-
tionally bad, he must launch out into the deep,
there to remain until he catches his boat full, or
is warned by the gathering darkness to return.
Though, as to that, it is seldom or never really
light for any length of time on the Banks. Here,
indeed, is the birthplace of gloomier, denser, and
more generally unpleasant fogs than can be found


. CONVERSE.


anywhere else in the known world. But catching
thousands upon thousands of fine cod-fish seems
an ample equivalent for not catching even a
glimpse of the sun for weeks at a time, and,
doubtless, the world looks all the brighter when
one again reaches a region of clear atmosphere
and sunny skies.
But despite the many unpleasant and dangerous
surroundings of such a trip, almost every one
returns several pounds heavier, and several degrees
healthier. Hard-worked collegians, and even puny
boy-students, often ship from Cape Ann or Glou-
cester in the spring, with this sole object in view.
For an example of the work, and the fun of a
dory-fisher, let me show you how young Bates
(who is soon to enter Harvard) is enjoying himself
as one of the crew of the "Betsy," now at anchor
on Casey's Bank," somewhere in the latitude of
Cape Sable. The trim little eighty-ton schooner,
with seventy-five fathoms of cable out ahead, is
plunging and rolling in a manner which to a lands-
man would seem frightful. It is young Bates's
morning watch on deck. He was dressing fish
until eleven o'clock the night previous, after a hard
day's fishing in a choppy sea. Every bone in his
body aches; every finger on his hands is sore and
stiff. He is fairly overcome with desire for sleep,
and I regret to add, is proportionately cross. But,
for that matter, so are the entire crew, whom with
a sort of wretched gratification, he rouses from
slumber precisely at four o'clock A. M., in obedi-
ence to the cook's summons to breakfast.
With far more favorable surroundings, break-
fast at four A. M. would be to many a hollow mock-
ery; yet young Bates has a fine appetite. Neither
the discomfort of a red-hot cooking-stove just be-
hind him, nor the tendency of everything movable
to rush frantically down the table at spasmodic
intervals, can prevent him from enjoying with a
keen relish the homely fare which once he would
have thought uneatable. After breakfast, donning
his oil clothes, he goes on deck. A drizzly fog as
uncomfortable, and nearly as impenetrable, as a
wet woolen blanket, clings to everything. As the
"Betsy" laboriously climbs the mountainous green
seas, to sink into succeeding valleys of watery
space, the slippery deck becomes alternately a
steep upward incline or a dizzy descent.
Five weeks ago, young Bates would have thought
it madness to launch out into such a tumult of
waters in a frail dory.


1879.1


565







DORY-FISHIING.


But now, he performs the act as quite a matter
of course. With bait-bucket, lines and water-jug
in their proper places, he pulls leisurely to wind-
ward. The "Betsy," and the little fleet of dories
fast scattering in different directions, are swallowed





c. .- -.




.7==.. ^ ,.-
~ 1 : -. _: .






- :^- - -_-:. ---' .' -^
-, ._ .. .? .. ,.

-- .- _ .. - _., -s. ..hg -k .
~~~~~~~~~ - ..... ...... ... .. .


drops his twenty-five pound anchor overboard,
giving it about sixty fathoms of scope, that his
dory may rise easily on the vast seas, without
bringing too sudden a strain upon the anchor,
in which case he would get adrift.






'


--~~ ~ -~.,~ ~~, r
* 2i". '


"THE VEIL OF FOG WAS SUDDENLY LIFTED."


up in the fog, and he is alone on the deep. But
despite the gray loneliness of the clinging vapor
and sullen sea, there is an exhilaration in the very
ease with which he sends his light craft forward,
even while it is being upborne on the rising surface
of a vast wave. Then, too, there is a strange sense
of awe which he can never entirely overcome, as
he is carried with startling swiftness down a long-
reaching slope, where for a breathless second he
seems to be engulfed in a terrible chasm walled in
by threatening seas.
Here he can think of the past, and, if he will,
dream of the future. Among other things, he
remembers with what a strange thrill he had seen a
large Cunard steamer emerge from the fog a day or
two previously, and pass within about a stone's
throw of his boat.
But now to business, for he is nearly a mile dis-
tant from the "Betsy." Shipping his oars he


Then, baiting his lines, each of which is provided
with a pair of hooks and a heavy sinker, he throws
one over either side of the dory. Standing erect
with his feet firmly braced and a line over each
forefinger, he awaits his first bite. For one cannot
fish sitting down; he must learn to keep his feet
while the little cockle-shell of a boat is riding the
vast surges, and apparently trying continually to
pitch him overboard.
A dull tug is felt on one line, and, dropping the
other, he pulls hand over hand a fathom at a
time, until with about as many regular motions of
his arms as there are fathoms of water on the
shoal, he hauls a pair of cod over the side. By
the time his hooks are rebaited, the other line
needs his attention, and thus he alternates between
the two, till he has fish enough for a load, or a gun
fired from the vessel's deck by the skipper (who,
with the cook, remains on board and fishes over


566







DORY-FISHING.


the rail) summons him to dinner. Occasionally, he
catches a worthless haddock, or perchance an ugly
skate, with its half-human face. Sometimes it is
a cod the size of a very small boy, or a huge black
pollock, to secure which he has to use a gaff.
But his dory is now as deep as it will safely swim,
and, hauling up his anchor with infinite pains, he
pulls back to the schooner. Throwing the painter
to the skipper," young Bates, standing upright,
has the harassing duties of counting his fish as he
pitches them one by one on board, and keeping his
boat from being stove under the schooner's coun-
ter, as she descends on a receding wave.
After dinner he is ready to start out again, but
the afternoon efforts may not prove very successful,
and he may have to change his ground several
times before he finds fish in abundance. Once,
while he was anchored and busily fishing, he wit-
nessed a singular phenomenon. He had for some
time been conscious of a far-off but continuous
sound, as that of a muffled thunder-peal, coming
to his ears above the constant wash and surge of
the waves. While he was striving to account
therefore, the atmosphere about him grew strangely
luminous, and an unaccustomed sense of warmth
was in the air. While he thus wondered, the veil
of fog was suddenly lifted from the face of the deep,
as though by magic, and overhead appeared a
circular patch of blue sky. And lo 1 as he gazed,
a long island, on whose white shores were strewn
the timbers of many a wrecked ship, seemed to
rise, as it were, from the sea, perhaps a mile dis-
tant. Yet, even while he dimly discerned a few
buildings and a flag-staff, the gray mists suddenly


shut down with marvelous swiftness, blotting out
every vestige of the vision, and leaving him to
wonder whether he had seen all this or dreamed it.
But when he drew one of his lines which had lain
idly upon the bottom, what do you think he found
upon the unbaited hook ? What, but a china doll's
head They told him when he came on board and
showed his strange token from the deep, that he
had looked upon Sable Island, where unforeseen
currents and quicksands unite with fog and tem-
pest to lure many a noble ship to destruction.
And one old man said that the bottom of the sea
in this vicinity was strewn with untold wealth, and
that the doll's head so singularly brought to the
surface was, without doubt, from some wrecked
vessel.
But the catching of fish is as nothing in young
Bates's estimation compared with the wearisome
toil of dressing and salting them down in the hold.
Sometimes, the crew work at this most disagreeable
task until midnight.
But every voyage has its end, and when young
Bates presented himself at the office in the city I
hardly knew him, so brown and stout had he
grown. Yet I hardly think he will care to make a
second trip to the Banks, even though he should
become, as he expresses it, "thinner than a dollar
bill." In spite of its curious experiences and its
various beneficial effects, I do not think it likely
that dory-fishing will ever become'as popular an
amusement as the milder forms of fishing, in which
we can so easily indulge from a boat on some
smooth inland water, from the banks of a stream,
or even from the end of a wharf.


/I



K.;.


-






568


ONE moonlight night in balmy June,
The animals, forsaking
Their various haunts in wood and field,
Met for a merry-making.

The frogs, with trombones and bassoons,
Came trooping from the sedges;


The whip-poor-will and nightingale
Brought cornets from the hedges.

The night-hawks came with fifes and drums
And swelled the cheerful clatter;


The lizard peeped from out his den
To see what was the matter.

The band struck up a lively tune,
The dancers took their places;
The solemn crow led out the mink,
Who aired her youthful graces.


The simpering squirrel swung the toad, .
And looked so very winning; '.
The 'coon and woodchuck joined their paws,
And in a waltz went spinning.


THE SYLVAN PARTY.



THE SYLVAN PARTY.

BY ALICE H. HARRINGTON.


[JULY,







THE SYLVAN PARTY.


h~< i


.-r1

It5 --


The 'possum danced a Highland fling,
The fun grew fast and furious;
The rabbit cut a pigeon's wing
That really was quite curious.


TThb fox and owl, beneath a tree,
Of art and science twaddled;
While up and down the promenade
The goose and turtle waddled.


The bull-frog sang a bass solo-
Although his cold was frightful;
The weasel, who stood by entranced,
Pronounced the song delightful.


At last the sun began, to rise,
And Brindle homeward wended
Her way right through the festive scene,
And so the party ended.


s







GREEN COVERS AND BROWN.



GREEN COVERS AND BROWN.

BY ROSSITER JOHNSON.


OLIVER GOLDSMITH,


WHEN I was a very small boy, I was rummag-
ing one day in a closet in my mother's house, and
came upon a little book with bright green covers.
I thought that must be a treasure indeed; for there
were not many books in the house, of any kind,
and there were none at all that would be specially
attractive to a child. This seemed to be just about
the right size for a little boy, and its cover was cer-
tainly very pretty.
Speaking of covers, I' learned better than to
judge of a book from its outside, by a severe lesson


which came a few years later. A lady visiting at
our house asked me what school I attended, who
was the teacher, and what were my studies. In
answer to the last question I mentioned, among
other things, philosophy. What philosophy do
you study ?" said she. Now it happened that the
particular book which I used had been covered
with brown paper to keep it neat, and this, of
course, concealed the title, for which I had never
troubled myself to look. So I gave the lady
the only description in my power, by answering,


570


[JuLv,


IJ F ''


TIP _







LITTLE ELSIE.


"Brown- covered." The family were greatly
amused at my simplicity, and I have not yet
heard the last of my new science of Brown-covered
Philosophy.
Well, to go back to the little green book. If I
had been attracted by the outside, what was my
delight on opening to the title-page. It seemed to
me that no subject could be so romantic for a book
as "The Deserted Village," and no name so
beautiful for an author as Oliver Goldsmith.
I sat down on the floor, and turned over the
leaves, but was disappointed. It was poetry I
had an idea that poetry was always very. difficult to
understand, and I took it for granted that it would
be great folly for a little boy to attempt it. So I
did not even try to read a single line, but promised
myself that when I grew up, and was learned
enough to understand poetry, I would read that
little green book.
I did not know then, what I have learned since,
that some of the finest poetry we have is among
the simplest things in the language, most easily
comprehended and longest remembered. This
very poem is a case in point.
I had grown up, and had read it a great many
times in other editions, when one day, as I was sit-
ting in my office, the little green-covered copy
came to my mind. I wrote home to have the old
house searched for it, but it could not be found.
Then I wrote to a sister who had moved to a far
Western State, and to my great joy she found it
among the things she had carried to her new
home, and sent it to me.


When it arrived, my first glance inside of it was
at the bottom of the title-page, and lo! the little
book had been printed and published in that very
office, five years before I was born, and by the
gentleman who had occupied before me the chair
in which I was sitting.
The little green covers are sadly faded, and the
leaves are yellow with time; but it is the most
highly prized of any volume on my shelf of poetry.
Time cannot dim the beauty of the poem, and the
memory of its author will be forever green. He
was born about three years before Washington,
and has been dead almost a century; but the
number of his readers has never diminished. He
was very much laughed at and ridiculed for his
personal oddities, and his life was unhappy and
unsatisfactory; but he did a great deal to make
other people happy. He would give away his
money, his dinner, or his clothes, whenever he saw
anybody in distress, and he wrote some of the most
enjoyable books that ever were printed. One rea-
son why I like him is because he did n't write long,
tedious things, that you have to sit up ever so
many nights to read through, and forget the be-
ginning before you reach the end.
If you open your geography at the map of Ire-
land, and put the point of your pencil exactly in
the center of that island, it will not be far from the
scene of The Deserted Village," which I hope
you will all read without waiting to grow up first.
The poem calls the village "Auburn," but its true
name was Lissoy; and it was the place where
the poet lived in childhood.-


LITTLE ELSIE.


Now, who should know
Where pansies grow
As well as little Elsie-O?

As deep her eyes
As purple skies;
Of softest velvet is her chin;


And I 've been told,
Her heart is gold,
By some one who 's been peeping in.

So, who should know
Where pansies grow
As well as little Elsie-O ?








A JOLLV FELLOWSHIP.



A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.


CHAPTER XVII.

S -. WHAT BOY HAS DONE, BOY MAY DO.
HERE was one place that I wished, partic-
.lI^Il' ularly, to visit before I left, and that was
what the people in Nassau called the
S Coral-reef. There were lots of coral-
,, i reefs, all about the islands, but this one
-A A was easily visited, and for this reason, I
~I. suppose, was chosen as a representative
of its class. I had been there before,
and had seen all the wonders of the
10 reef through a water-glass,-which is
) a wooden box, with a pane of glass at
one end and open at the other. You
Should the glass end of this box just under
o o the water, and put your face to the open
end, and then you can see down under
the water, exactly as if you were look-
ing through the air. And on this coral-
reef, where the water was not more than
S twelve or fourteen feet deep, there were
lots of beautiful things to see. It was
like a submarine garden. There was
coral in every form and shape, and of
Different colors; there were sea-feathers,
which stood up like waving purple-trees,
most of them a foot or two high, but
some a good deal higher; there were
00 sea-fans, purple and yellow, that spread
themselves up from the curious bits of
coral-rock on the bottom, and there
were ever so many other things that
grew like bushes and vines, and of all
sorts of colors. Among all these you
S could see the fishes swimming about, as
if they were in a great aquarium. Some
of these fishes were very large, with handsome
black bands across their backs, but the prettiest
were some little fellows, no bigger than sardines,
that swam in among the branches of the sea-
feathers and fans. They were colored bright blue,
and yellow, and red; some of them with two or
three colors apiece. Rectus called them "hum-
ming-fishes." They did remind me of humming-
birds, although they did n't hum.
When I came here before, I was with a party of
ladies and gentlemen. We went in a large sail-
boat, and took several divers with us, to go down
and bring up to us the curious things that we
would select, as we looked through the water-glass.


There was n't anything peculiar about these divers.
They wore linen breeches, for diving dresses, and
were the same kind of fellows as those who dived
for pennies at the town.
Now, what I wanted to do, was to go to the
coral-reef and dive down and get something for
myself. It would be worth while to take home a
sea-fan or something of that kind, and say you
brought it up from the bottom of the sea yourself.
Any one could get things that the divers had
brought up. To be sure, the sea was n't very
deep here, but it had a bottom, all the same. I
was not so good a swimmer as these darkeys, who
ducked and dived as if they had been born in the
water, but I could swim better than most fellows,
and was particularly good at diving. So I deter-
mined, if I could get a chance, to go down after
some of those things on the coral-reef.
I could n't try this, before, because there were
too many people along, but Rectus, who thought
the idea was splendid, although he did n't intend
to dive himself, agreed to hire a sail-boat with me,
and go off to the reef, with only the darkey captain.
We started as early as we could get off, on the
morning after we had been at Fort Charlotte. The
captain of the yacht-they give themselves and
their sail-boats big titles here-was a tall colored
man, named Chris, and he took two big darkey
boys with him, although we told him we did n't
want any divers. But I suppose he thought we
might change our minds. I did n't tell him I was
going to dive. He might not have been willing to
go, in that case.
We had a nice sail up the harbor, between the
large island on which the town stands, and the
smaller ones that separate the harbor from the
ocean. After : -I,.. about five miles we turned
out to sea between two islands, and pretty soon
were anchored over the reef.
"Now then, boss," said Captain Chris, "don't
ye want these here boys to do some divin' for ye ? "
"I told you I would n't want them," said I.
" I 'm going to dive, myself."
You dive, boss cried all three of the darkeys
at once, and the two boys began to laugh.
"Ye can't do that, boss," said the captain. Ef
ye aint used to this here kind o' divin', ye can't do
nothing' at all, under this water. Ye better let the
boys go fur ye."
"No," said I, I'm going myself," and I began
to take off my clothes.







A JOLLY Fl


The colored fellows did n't like it much, for it
seemed like taking their business away from them;
but they could n't help it, and so they just sat and
waited to see how things would turn out.
"You 'd better take a look through the glass,
before you dive," said Rectus, "and choose what
you're going to get."
I'm not going to be particular," I replied. "I
shall get whatever I can."
The tide 's pretty strong," said the captain.
"You 've got to calkelate fur that."
I was obliged for this information, which was
generous on his part, considering the circumstances,
and I dived from the bow, as far out as I could
jump. Down I went, but I did n't reach the bot-
tom, at all. My legs grazed against some branches
and things, but the tide had me back to the boat
in no time, and I came up near the stern which I
seized, and got on board.
Both the colored boys were grinning, and the
captain said:
Ye can't dive that-a way, boss. You'll never
git to the bottom, at all, that-a way. Ye must go
right down, efye go at all."
I knew that, but I must admit I did n't care
much to go all the way down when I made the first
dive. Just as I jumped, I thought of the hard
sharp things at the bottom, and I guess I was a
little too careful not to dive into them.
But now I made a second dive, and I went down
beautifully. I made a grab at the first thing my
hand touched. It was a purple knob of coral.
But it stuck tight to its mother-rock, and I was
ready to go up before it was ready to come loose,
and so I went up without it.
"'T aint easy to git them things," said the cap-
tain, and the two boys said:
No indeed, boss, ye can't git them things
dat-a way."
I did n't say anything, but in a few minutes I
made another dive. I determined to look around
a little, this time, and seize something that I could
break off or pull up. I found that I could n't stay
under water, like the darkeys could. That re-
quired practice, and perhaps more fishy lungs.
Down I went, and I came right down on a small
sea-fan, which I grabbed instantly. That ought
to give way, easily. But as I seized it I brought
down my right foot into the middle of a big round
sponge. I started, as if I had had an electric
shock. The thing seemed colder and wetter than
the water; it was slimy and sticky and horrid. I
did not see what it was, and it felt as if some great
sucker-fish, with a cold woolly mouth, was trying to
swallow my foot. I let go of everything, and came
right up, and drew myself, puffing and blowing,
on board the boat.


FELLOWSHIP. 573


How Captain Chris laughed! He had been
watching me through the water-glass, and saw
what had scared me.
"Why, boss said he, sponges don't eat
people! That was nice and sof' to tread on. A
sight better than cutting' yer foot on a piece o'
coral."
That was all very well, but I 'm sure Captain
Chris jumped the first time he ever put his bare
foot into a sponge under water.
I s'pose ye 're goin' to gib it up now, boss,"
said the captain.
"No, I 'm not," I answered. "I have n't brought
up anything yet. I 'm going down again."
You 'd better not," said Rectus. "Three
times is all that anybody ever tries to do anything.
If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. One,
two, three. You're not expected to try four times.
And, besides, you 're tired."
I 'll be rested in a minute," said I, ." and then
I 'll try once more. I 'm all right. You need n't
worry."
But Rectus did worry. I must have looked
frightened when I came up, and I believe he had
caught the scare. Boys will do that. The captain
tried to keep me from going in again, but I knew
it was all nonsense to be frightened. I was going
to bring up something from the bottom, if it was
only a pebble.
So, after resting a little while, and getting my
breath again, down I went. I was in for anything
now, and the moment I reached the bottom I
swept m.y arm around and seized the first thing I
touched. It was a pretty big thing, for it was a
sea-feather over five feet high,-a regular tree. I
gave a jerk at it, but it held fast. I wished, most
earnestly, that I had taken hold of something
smaller, but I did n't like to let go. I might get
nothing else. I gave another jerk, but it was of
no use. I felt that I could n't hold my breath
much longer, and must go up. I clutched the
stem of the thing with both hands; I braced my
feet against the bottom; I gave a tremendous tug
and push, and up I came to the top, sea-feather
and all!
With both my hands full I could n't do much
swimming, and the tide carried me astern of the
boat before I knew it.
Rectus was the first to shout to me.
"Drop it, and strike out!" he yelled; but I
did n't drop it. I took it in one hand and swam
with the other. But the tide was strong and I
did n't make any headway. Indeed, I floated
further away from the boat.
Directly, I heard a splash, and in a moment
afterward, it seemed, the two darkey divers were
swimming up to me.







[JULY,


A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


Drop dat," said one of them, an' we 'll take
ye in."
No I wont," I spluttered, still striking out
with my legs and one arm. Take hold of this,
and we can all go in together."
I thought that if one of them would help me
with the sea-feather, which seemed awfully heavy,
two of us could certainly swim to the boat with four
legs and two arms between us.
But neither of them would do it. They wanted
me to drop my prize, and then they 'd take hold of
me and take me in. We were disputing and puff-
ing, and floating further and further away, when
up came Captain Chris, swimming like a shark.
He had jerked off his clothes and jumped in when
he saw what was going on. He just put one hand
under my right arm, in which I held the sea-


anchored near that tall feather, and all de visitors
used to talk about it. I did n't think you 'd bring
it up when I seed you grab it. But you must 'a'
give a powerful heave to come up with all that
stone."
"I don't think you ought to have tried to do
that," said Rectus, who looked as if he had n't
enjoyed himself. I did n't know you were so
obstinate."
Well," said I, the truth of the matter is that
I am a fool, sometimes, and I might as well admit
it. But now let 's see what we 've got on this
stone."
There was a lot of curious things on the piece of
rock which had come up with the sea-feather.
There were small shells, of different shapes and
colors, with the living creatures inside of them,


" WE STRUCK OUT TOGETHER FOR THE BOAT.'


feather, and then we struck out together for the
boat. It was like getting a tow from a tug-boat.
We were alongside in no time. Captain Chris was
the strongest and best swimmer I ever saw.
Rectus was leaning over, ready to help, and he
caught me by the arm as I reached up for the side
of the boat.
No," said I, "take this," and he seized the
sea-feather and pulled it in. Then the captain
gave me a hoist, and I clambered on board,
The captain had some towels under the little
forward deck, and I gave myself a good rub down
and dressed. Then I went to look at my prize.
No wonder it was heavy. It had a young rock, a
foot long, fast to its root.
"You sp'iled one o' de puttiest things in that
garden down there," said the captain. "I allus


and there were mosses, and sea-weed, and little
sponges, and small sea-plants, tipped with red and
yellow, and more things of the kind than I can
remember. It was the handsomest and most inter-
esting piece of coral-rock that I had seen yet.
As for the big purple sea-feather, it was a whop-
per, but too big for me to do anything with it.
When we got home, Rectus showed it around to
the Chippertons, and some of the people at the
hotel, and told them that I dived down and
brought it up, myself, but I could n't take it away
with me, for it was much too long to go in my
trunk. So I gave it next day to Captain Chris to
sell, if he chose, but I believe he took it back and
planted it again in the submarine garden, so that
his passengers could see how tall a sea-feather
could grow, when it tried. I chipped off a piece


574






A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


of the rock, however, to carry home as a memento.
I was told that the things growing on it-I picked
off all the shells-would make the clothes in my
trunk smell badly, but I thought I 'd risk it.
"After all," said Rectus, that night, "what was
the good of it? That little piece of stone don't
amount to anything, and you might have been
drowned."
"I don't think I could have been drowned,"
said I, for I should have dropped the old thing,
and floated, if I had felt myself giving out. But
the good of it was this: It showed me what a disa-
greeable sort of place a sea-garden is, when you go
down into it, to pick things."
"Which you wont do again, in a hurry, I
reckon," said Rectus.
"You 're right there, my boy," I answered.
The next day, the Chippertons and ourselves
took a two-horse barouche, and rode to the caves,"
some six or seven miles from the town. We had
a long walk through the pine-apple fields before
we came to the biggest cave, and found it was n't
very much of a cave, after all, though there was a
sort of a room, on one side, which looked like a
church, with altar, pillars and arches. There was
a little hole, on one side of this room about three
feet wide, which led, our negro guide said, to a
great cave, which ran along about a mile, until it
reached the sea. There was no knowing what
skeletons, and treasures, and old half-decayed
boxes of coins, hidden by pirates, and swords with
jewels in the handles, and loose jewels, and silver-
plate, and other things we might have found in
that cave, if we had only had a lantern or some
candles to light us while we were wandering about
in it. But we had no candles or lantern, and so
did not become a pirate's heirs. It was Corny who
was most anxious to go in. She had read about
Blackbeard and the other pirates who used to live
on this island, and she felt sure that some of their
treasures were to be found in that cave. If she
had thought of it, she would have brought a candle.
The only treasures we got were some long
things, like thin ropes, which hung from the roof
to the floor of the cave we were in. This cave
was n't dark, because nearly all of one side of it
was open. These ropes were roots or young
trunks from banyan-trees, growing on the ground
above, and which came through the cracks in
the rocks, and stretched themselves down so as
to root in the floor of the cave, and make a lot
of underground trunks for the tree above. The
banyan-tree is the most enterprising trunk-maker
I ever heard of.
We pulled down a lot of these banyan-ropes,
some of them more than twenty feet long, to take
away as curiosities. Corny thought it would be


splendid to have a jumping-rope made of a banyan-
root, or rather trunklet. The banyans here are
called wild fig-trees, which they really are, wher-
ever they grow. There is a big one, not far from
the town, which stands by itself, and has a lot of
trunks coming down from the branches. It would
take the conceit out of a hurricane, I think, if it
tried to blow down a banyan-tree.
The next day was Sunday, and our party went
to a negro church to hear a preacher, who was
quite celebrated as a colored orator. He preached
a good sensible sermon, although he did n't meddle
much with grammar. The people were poorly
dressed, and some of the deacons were barefooted,
but they were all very clean and neat, and they
appeared to be just as religious as if they had all
ridden in carriages to some Fifth Avenue church in
New York.

CHAPTER XVIII.
I WAKE UP MR. CHIPPERTON.

ABOUT nine oclock, on Monday morning, the
" Tigris came in. When we boarded her, which
we did almost as soon as the stairs had been put
down her side, we found that she would make a
shorter stay than usual, and would go out that
evening, at high tide. So there was no time to
lose. After the letters had been delivered at the
hotel and we had read ours, we sent our trunks on
board and went around to finish up Nassau. We
rowed over to Hog Island, opposite the town, to
see, once more, the surf roll up against the high,
jagged rocks; we ran down among the negro
cottages and the negro cabins to get some fruit
for the trip; and we rushed about to bid good-
bye to some of our old friends-Poquadilla among
them. Corny went with us, this time. Every
darkey knew we were going away, and it was
amazing to see how many of them came to bid us
good-bye, and ask for some coppers.
After supper we went on board the steamer, and
about ten o'clock she cast loose, and as she slowly
moved away, we heard the old familiar words:
Give us a small dive, boss !"
They came from a crowd of darkey boys on the
wharf. But although the moon was shining
brightly, we did n't think they could see coppers
on the bottom that night. They might have found
a shilling or a half-dollar, but we did n't try them.
There were a couple of English officers on
board, from the barracks, and we thought that
they were going to take a trip to the United States;
but the purser told us that they had no idea of
doing that themselves, but were trying to prevent
one of the "red-coats," as the common soldiers
were generally called, from leaving the island. He







A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


had been missed at the barracks, and it was sup-
posed that he was stowed away somewhere on the
vessel. The steamer had delayed starting for half
an hour, so that search might be made for the
deserter, but she could n't wait any longer if she
wanted to get over the bar that night, and so the
lieutenants, or sergeants, or whatever they were,
had to go along and come back in the pilot-boat.
When we got outside we lay to, with the pilot-
boat alongside of us, and the hold of the vessel was
ransacked for the deserter. Corny openly declared
that she hoped they would n't find him, and I 'm
sure I had a pretty strong feeling that way myself.
But they did find him. He was pulled out from
behind some barrels in a dark place in the hold
and hurried up on deck. We saw him as he was
forced over the side of the vessel and almost
dropped into the pilot-boat, which was rising and
falling on the waves by the side of the ship. Then
the officers scrambled down the side and jumped
into the boat. The line was cast off, :the negro
oarsmen began to pullaway, and the poor red-coat
took his doleful journey back to Nassau. He must
have felt pretty badly about it. I have no doubt
that when he hid himself down there in that dark
hold, just before the vessel started, he thought he
had made a pretty sure thing of it, and that it
would not be long before he'would be a free man,
and could go where he pleased and do what he
pleased in the wide United States. But the case
was very different now. I suppose it was wrong,
of course, for him to desert, and probably he was a
mean sort of a fellow to do it; but we were all very
sorry to see him taken away. Corny thought that
he was very likely a good man who had been
imposed upon, and that, therefore, it was right
to try to run away, It was quite natural for a girl
to think that.
The moment the pilot-boat left us, the "Ti-
gris" started off in good earnest and went steam-
ing along on her course. And it was not long
before we started off, also in good earnest, for our
berths. We were a tired set.
The trip back was not so pleasant as our other
little voyage, when we were coming to the Baha-
mas. The next day was cloudy, and the sea was
rough and choppy. The air was mild enough for
us to be on deck, but there was a high wind which
made it uncomfortable. Rectus thought he could
.keep on his wide straw hat, but he soon found out
his mistake and had to get out his Scotch cap,
which made him look like a very different fellow.
There were not very many passengers on board,
as it was scarcely time for.the majority of people to
leave Nassau. They generally stay until April, I
think. Besides our party of five, there were several
gentlemen and ladies from the hotel; and as we


knew them all tolerably well, we had a much more
sociable time than when we came over. Still, for
my part, I should have preferred fair weather,
bright skies, and plenty of nautiluses and flying-
fish.
The "yellow-legged" party remained at Nassau.
I was a little sorry for this, too, as I liked the men
pretty well, now that I knew them better. They
certainly were good walkers.
Toward noon the wind began to blow harder
and the waves ran very high. The "Tigris"
rolled from side to side as if she would go over,
and some of the ladies were a good deal frightened;
but she always came up again, all right, no matter
how far over she dipped, and so in time they got
used to it. I proved to Mrs. Chipperton that it
would be impossible for the vessel to upset, as the
great weight of ballast, freight, machinery, etc., in
the lower part of her would always bring her deck
up again, even if she rolled entirely over on her
side, which, sometimes, she seemed as if she was
going to do, but she always changed her mind just
as we thought the thing was going to happen. The
first mate told me that the reason we rolled so was
because we had been obliged to take in all sail, and
that the mainsail had steadied the vessel very much
before the wind got so high. This was all very
well, but I did n't care much to know why the
thing was. There are some people who think a
thing 's all right if they can only tell you the
reason for it.
Before dark we had to go below, for the captain
said he did n't want any of us to roll overboard,
and, besides, the spray from the high waves made
the deck very wet and unpleasant. None of us
liked it below. There was no place to sit but in
the long saloon, where the dining-tables were, and
after supper we all sat there and read. Mr. Chip-
perton had a lot of novels, and we each took one.
But it was n't much fun. I could n't get interested
in my story,-at least, not in the beginning of it.
I think that people who want to use up time when
they are traveling ought'to take what Rectus called
a "begun novel" along with them, He had got
on pretty well in his book while he was in Nassau,
and so just took it up now and went right along.
The lamps swung so far backward and forward
above the table that we thought they would cer-
tainly spill the oil over us in one of their wild
pitches; the settees by the table slid under us as
the ship rolled, so that there was no comfort, and
any one who tried to walk from one place to
another had to hang on to whatever he could get
hold of, or be tumbled up against the tables or the
wall. Some folks got sea-sick and went to bed,
but we tried to stick it out as long as we could.
The storm grew worse and worse. Sometimes, a


576


[JULY,







A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


577


big wave would strike the side of the steamer, just seemed to be steaming along almost on an even
behind us, with a tremendous shock. The ladies keel. She pitched somewhat forward and aft,-
were :always sure she had "struck something" that is, her bow and her stern went up and down
when this happened; but when they found it was by turns,-but we did n't mind that, as it was so


GOOD-BYE TO NASSAU.


*only water that she had struck, they were better
satisfied. At last, things grew to be so bad that
we thought we should have to go to bed and spend
the night holding on to the handles at the back of
our berths, when, all of a sudden, there was a great
change. The rolling stopped, and the vessel
VOL. VI.-39.


very much better than the wild rolling that hdad
been kept up so long.
I wonder what this means?" said Mr. Chipper-
ton, actually standing up without holding on to
anything. Can they have got into a current of
smooth water?"






[JULY,


A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


I did n't think this was possible, but I did n't
stop to make any conjectures about it. Rectus
and I ran up on the forward deck to see how this
agreeable change had come about. The moment
we got outside we found the wind blowing fearfully
and the waves dashing as high as ever, but they
were not plunging against our sides. We carefully
worked our way along to the pilot-house and
looked in. The captain was inside, and when he
saw us he opened the door and came out. He was


better. He put all this in a good deal of sea-lan-
guage, but I tell it as I got the sense of it.
'"Did you think she would go over, captain?"
asked Rectus.
Oh no said he, but something might have
been carried away."
He was a very pleasant man and talked a good
deal to us.
It's all very well to lie to, this way," he went
on, for the comfort and safety of the passengers


'I3'
7.


1


"THE SHIP WAS ON FIRE I"


going to his own room, just back of the pilot-house,
and he told us to come with him.
He looked tired and wet, and he told us that the
storm had grown so bad that he did n't think it
would be right to keep on our course any longer.
We were going to the north-west, and the storm
was coming from the north-east, and the waves
and the wind dashed fair against the side of the
vessel, making her roll and careen so that it began
to be unsafe. So he had put her around with her
head to the wind, and now she took the storm on
her bow, where she could stand it a great deal


and the ship, but I don't like it, for we 're not
keeping on to our port, which is what I want to be
doing."
Are we stopping here ?" I asked.
Pretty much," said the captain. All that
the engines are working for, is just to keep her
head to the wind."
I felt the greatest respect for the captain. In-
stead of telling us why the ship rolled, he just
stopped her rolling. I liked that way of doing
things. And I was sure that every one on board
that I had talked to would be glad to have the


-I--- sl






A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP.


vessel lie to, and make herself comfortable until
the storm was over.
We did not stay very long with the captain, for
he wanted to take a nap, and when we went out,
we stood a little while by the railing to see the
storm. The wind nearly took our heads off, and
the waves dashed right up over the bow of the ship
so that if any one had been out there, I suppose
they would have been soaked in a few minutes, if
not knocked down. But we saw two men at the
wheel, in the pilot-house, steadily holding her head
to the wind, and we felt that it was all right. So
we ran below and reported, and then we all went
to bed.
Although there was not much of the rolling that
had been so unpleasant before, the vessel pitched
and tossed enough to make our berths, especially
mine, which was the upper one, rather shaky
places to rest in; and I did not sleep very soundly.
Sometime in the night, I was awakened by a sound
of heavy, and rapid footfalls on the deck above my
head. I lay and listened for a moment, and felt
glad that the deck was steady enough for them to
walk on. There soon seemed to be a good deal
more running, and as they began to drag things
about, I thought that it would be a good idea to
get up and find out what was going on. If it was
anything extraordinary, I wanted to see it. Of
course, I woke up Rectus, and we put on our
clothes. There was now a good deal of noise on
deck.
"Perhaps we have run into some vessel and
sunk her," said Rectus, opening the door, with his
coat over his arm. He was in an awful hurry to
see.
"Hold up here!" I said. "Don't you go on
deck in this storm without an overcoat. If there
has been a collision you can't do any good, and
you need n't hurry so. Button up warm."
We both did that, and then we went up on
deck. There was no one aft, just then, but we
could see in the moonlight, which was pretty strong,
although the sky was cloudy, that there was quite
a crowd of men forward. We made our way in
that direction as fast as we could, in the face of the
wind, and when we reached the deck, just in front
of the pilot-house, we looked down to the big
hatchway where the freight and baggage were
lowered down into the hold, and there we saw what
was the matter.
The ship was on fire !
The hatchway was not open, but smoke was com-
ing up thick and fast all around it. A half-dozen
men were around a donkey-engine that stood a
little forward of the hatch, and others were pulling
at hose. The captain was rushing here and there
giving orders. I did not hear anything he said.


No one said anything to us. Rectus asked one of
the men something as he ran past him, but the
man did not stop to answer.
But there was no need to ask any questions.










I.I .







& -'...: /.,- ,
,' .-t i '- .
.... ... ;., .,, ,'. .. '.... ,
4 "t. .?-.' '- -. l --i
0.'.- -.- v N "'. ": .-i1 -' ,


"'KEEP PERFECTLY COOL,' SAID MR. CHIPPERTON."
There was the smoke coming up, thicker and
blacker, from the edges of the hatch.
Come!" said I, clutching Rectus by the arm.
" Let's wake them up."
"Don't you think they can put it out?" he
asked as we ran back.
Can't tell," I answered. But we must get
ready,-that 's what we 've got to do."
I am sure I did not know how we were to get
ready, or what we were to do, but my main idea
was that no time was to be lost in doing some-
thing. The first thing was to awaken our friends.
We found the steward in the saloon. There was
only one lamp burning there, and the place looked
dismal, but there was light enough to see that he
was very pale.
"Don't you intend to wake up the people?" I
said to him.
What's the good?" he said. They '11 put
it out."
"They may, and they may n't," I answered,
"and it wont hurt the passengers to be awake."


579







SOME FUN WITH A TOY SPIDER.


With this I hurried to the Chippertons' state-
room-they had a double room in the center of the
vessel--and knocked loudly on the door. I saw
the steward going to other doors, knocking at
some and opening others and speaking to the
people inside.
Mr. Chipperton jumped right up and opened the
door. When he saw Rectus and me standing
there, he must have seen in our faces that some-
thing was the matter, for he instantly asked:
"What is it? A wreck?"
I told him of the fire, and said that it might not
be much, but that we thought we 'd better waken
him.
That 's right!" he said; we '11 be with you
directly. Keep perfectly cool. Remain just where
you are. You 'll see us all in five minutes," and
he shut the door.
But I did not intend to stand there. A good
many men were already rushing from their rooms
and hurrying up the steep stairs that led from the
rear of the saloon to the deck, and I could hear
ladies calling out from their rooms as if they were
hurrying to get ready to come out. The stew-
ardess, a tall colored woman, was just going to one
of these ladies, who had her head out of the door.
I told Rectus to run up on deck, see how things
were going on, and then to come back to the Chip-
pertons' door. Then I ran to our room, jerked the
cork life-preservers from under the pillows and


came out into the saloon with them. This seemed
to frighten several persons who saw me as I came
from our room, and they rushed back for their life-
preservers, generally getting into the wrong room,
I think. I did not want to help to make a fuss and
confusion, but I thought it would be a good deal
better for us to get the life-preservers now than to
wait. If we did n't need them no harm would be
done. Some one had turned up several of the
lamps in the saloon so that we could see better.
But no one stopped to look much. Everybody,
ladies and all-there were not many of these-hur-
ried on deck. The Chippertons were the last to
make their appearance. Just as their door opened
Rectus ran up to me.
It 's worse than ever !" he said.
Here!" said I, take this life-preserver I
Have you life-preservers in your room ?" I asked,
quickly of Mr. Chipperton.
All right," said he, we have them on. Keep
all together and come on deck,-and remember to
be perfectly cool."
He went ahead with Mrs. Chipperton, and Rec-
tus and I followed, one on each side of Corny.
Neither she nor her mother had yet spoken to us;
but while we were going up the stairs, Corny
turned to me, as I came up behind her, and said:
Is it a real fire ?"
Oh yes," I answered; "but they may put it
out."


(To be continued.)


-- -
K_.Z _








d'P
S~',


T-77


4i




4_ :ti 7
kly -~I-~


SOME FUN WITH A TOY SPIDER.


---~~


~_-=-~_T----=i~i--
--- ~---_


----


[JULY,







A TALK ABOUT ROYAL CHILDREN.


A TALK ABOUT ROYAL CHILDREN.

BY E. B. T.


ALL the old kings and queens mentioned in
your history-lessons were children once, you know.
Well, it is about their childish days that I intend
to tell you; and not only about the kings and
queens themselves, but also about some little
princes and princesses who never ascended the
throne, but who played around its steps.
Let us begin with England, for I know you
would like to hear about children who spoke the
same language as ourselves. If you are ever in
Westminster Abbey, London, near the chapel of
Edward the Confessor, you will see a little tomb
marked :
CATHERINE,
BELOVED DAUGHTER OF HENRY III. AND HIS
QUEEN ELEANOR."

She was both deaf and dumb, yet it is said that
she was so gentle and affectionate that the king,
her father, grieved sorely when, at the early age of
three years, a lingering sickness carried her to the
tomb; and we read in the ancient records that the
king caused a silver image of his beloved little
daughter to be made, doubtless to have always
before his eyes, at least a semblance of that pre-
cious gift which had been taken away.
Long before this, in the twelfth century, Wil-
liam, the son of Henry I. of England,-a trouble-
some boy if the hints of history are to be believed,
-had married a little girl of twelve summers,-a
foolish young couple, we may be sure, for the
groom was only seventeen. He did not live long;
for a few years afterward he and a hundred and
forty young men were drowned off the French coast
near Harfleur. History does not say that he was
mourned by the English people, but a very old
picture shows us King Henry bewailing his loss in
a very pitiful manner. It is said, indeed, that the
stricken father never was seen to smile again.
Edward I. had two lovely children, John and
Henry, whom he was compelled to leave behind
him in England on going with his wife, the de-
voted Eleanora of Castile, to join the Crusade in
1269. When the princess was urged to remain
with her children, she replied in words that deserve
to be remembered:
Nothing ought to part those whom God has
joined, and the way to heaven is as short from
Syria as from England, or my native Spain."
When Edward and Eleanora, on. their return from
Syria, arrived at Sicily, the first tidings that greeted
them were that Prince John, their heir, and a child


whose talents were unequaled for his years, was
dead. Scarcely had the bereaved parents recovered
from this shock, when a messenger announced the
death of their second son, Prince Henry; and a
third messenger brought at the same time the
news of the death of the aged King, Henry III.
On hearing of the death of his father, Edward
gave way to a torrent of grief far surpassing that
which he had shown for his sons; and on the
astonished courtiers asking him how it was that he
bore the loss of both his sons with such calm resig-
nation, and abandoned himself to grief at the death
of an aged man, Edward answered:
The loss of infants may be repaired by the
same God who gave them; but when a man has
lost a good father, it is not in the course of nature
for God to send him another."
The celebrated hero, Edward, the Black Prince,
was such a lovely infant that the portrait of Queen
Philippa, his mother, and her princely boy, were
often painted to represent the Virgin and Child.
The story of the beautiful little Isabella of Valois,
who became the mistress of a royal home at the
age of eight, is beautifully told in a recent number
of this magazine. So I need not repeat it here,
but will only add that the child, though of queenly
bearing for so young a creature, played with her
dolls, and in many ways enjoyed herself as a child
should, after she was really Queen of England!
When Henry V. heard of the birth of his son,
the unfortunate Henry VI., he eagerly demanded
where the boy was born, and, having been an-
swered, "At Windsor," he made, with a sad coun-
tenance the following prophecy:

I, Henry, born at Monmouth,
Shall small time reign and much get;
But Henry of Windsor long shall reign, and lose all of it,
But as God will, so be it."

And the prophecy came to pass; for Henry VI.
seemed to be unhappy and unfortunate even in his
babyhood. He held his first parliament in Lon-
don at the tender age of eight months. In order
to reach the parliament in proper season, he was
obliged to journey from Windsor to London on a
Sunday; but upon being carried toward his mother's
carriage, he shrieked, he cried, he sprang, and
would be carried no farther; wherefore, they bore
him again to the inn at Staines, and there he
abode the Sunday all day." Evidently, the infant
monarch did not approve of traveling on that par-


x879-]







A TALK ABOUT ROYAL CHILDREN.


ticular Sunday. The famous Earl of Warwick was
the baby-king's guardian. When the parliament
was opened he held him in his arms, and the royal
infant, gently placing one of his tiny hands upon
the scepter, did not seem to know whether that
emblem of sovereignty was meant to be treated
with respect or as a plaything.
Doubtless, you all are acquainted with the sad
story of the "Princes in the Tower"; but if you
are not, look in the ST. NICHOLAS for January,
1874, and you will be able not only to read :heir
history much better than I can tell it to you, but
you can also see the engraving of the beautiful
picture by Delaroche in which the two boys are
shown, prisoners in the dreadful Tower.
The learned Erasmus visited the children of
Henry VII. at their palace of Shene or Richmond,
and gave the following description of them :
"Thomas More paid me a visit when I was
Mountjoy's guest, and took me for recreation a
walk to a neighboring country palace, where the
royal children were abiding, Prince Arthur ex-
cepted, who had finished his education. The
princely children were assembled in the hall. In
the midst stood Prince Henry, then only nine years
old; he bore in his countenance a look of high
rank, and an expression of royalty, yet open and
courteous. By his right hand stood the Princess
Margaret, a child of eleven years, afterward Queen
of Scotland. At the other side was the Princess


KING HENRY I. BEWAILING HIS SON.
(FrOM AN OLD PICTURE.)
Mary, a little one of four years, engaged in her
sports, whilst Edmund, an infant, was held in his
nurse's arms." The Princess Margaret united the
crowns of England and Scotland in the person of
her great-grandson, James I. of England. The
boy Henry, of whom such a pleasing picture is
given, afterward became the tyrant Henry VIII.


Did you ever think of the great Queen Elizabeth
as a little girl? Poor little child! she did not lead
a happy life; for her father did not love her, and
she never knew a mother's care. You may imag-
ine how ill she was used when I tell you that her
governess was obliged to beg for clothing for her.
When she was four years old she assisted at the
christening of her infant brother, afterward Edward
VI., and on his second birthday she presented him
with a cambric shirt of her own making.
There was another princess, named Elizabeth,
whose years were few but full of sorrow. She was
a daughter of King Charles I. of England, and,
after his decapitation, was shut up with her little
brother in Carisbrooke Castle in the Isle of Wight.
The princess was exceedingly beautiful, and sel-
dom was a child seen with such grace and dignity.
In her mind she resembled her grandfather, Henry
IV. of France, and her intelligence was a subject
of astonishment to her father, who often consulted
her. The royal children's rooms at Carisbrooke
were gloomy and dreary, but they found kind
hearts in the custodian of the castle and his good
wife.
As though to make the scene of their imprison-
ment still more sad, the first night of their arrival
a sentinel called to the princess as she looked out,
and unfeelingly told her that the little Gothic win-
dow which she saw opposite to her was where her
father had tried to escape, but was prevented by its
smallness. This brought a flood of tears from the
little princess, who seemed inconsolable for the fate
of her father. The next day, the children went to
the little Gothic window, and there they interlaced
their hands between the bars and stood for a long
time thinking of their father.
The princess begged that the door of the room
where her father had been confined might be
opened. Its walls brought new tears, and sad
memories of the humiliation which the king had
endured. By the help of her brother, the princess
turned her father's room into an oratory, and
placed her precious Bible there. In summer, they
brought flowers to decorate the place.
One quiet evening, they heard some sailors at
sea singing, as was their habit, "God save the
king !"
Listen," said the princess, "'there are still
some who love our father;" and, happy for one
moment, she embraced her brother.
As they were taking their usual walk upon the
ramparts one morning, a wedding procession
passed; the young girls were dancing, and had
bouquets in their hands; but when they saw the
royal children they stopped and threw them their
flowers, out of respect and kind feeling. The
princess in gratitude leaned down, and, loosening


' '"'
I

"' = )-- I -, o I o


[JuLY,







A TALK ABOUT ROYAL CHILDREN.


a little cross from her neck, dropped it into the me; my death is glorious; I die for the laws, and
hand of the bride, religion.' He assured me he pardoned all his ene-
Another time, a funeral procession passed by, mies, and wished us also to pardon them. He
and the princess, seeing them,weeping, said: sent many messages to my mother that his love for













-- _--- ----- -- -" --- ---




II N MEMORY OF
THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH, DAUGHTER OF CHARLES I.
DHO DIED AT CARISBROOKE CASTLE.ON SUttNDY, SEPT. ISSO. AND IS INTERRED BENEATH THE CNINCEL OF THIS CHURCH
THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED,
TOKEN OF RESPECT FOR ESYPATHY FOR HER NISFORTUNES.


MONUMENT TO PRINCESS ELIZABETH.


Oh do not weep; to rest in God is only happi-
ness. "
She grew weaker and weaker every day, but as
long as she was able she taught her little brother
each day out of her Bible and some old Latin
books which had been given to her. One Sunday
morning, the 8th September, 1650, as the warden's
wife entered the room, according to custom, with a
bowl of milk for the princess, she found her, as she
supposed, sleeping, but it proved to be the sleep
of death. She lay there white and calm, with her
head leaning on her dearly beloved Bible. From
her hand had fallen a paper containing an account
of her last interview with her father. The paper
was headed with these words:
That which the king said to me the last time I
had the happiness of seeing him"-that was on
the night before his execution.
After describing the reception of herself and
brother, she wrote:
The king said: 'But perhaps, my darling, you
will forget that which I am going to tell you.' And
with that he shed abundant tears. I assured him
I would write all his words.
My child,' said he, you must not grieve for


her would always be the same. Again, he told us
we must not weep for him; that he died a martyr,
in full assurance that the throne would some day
be given back to his sons, and that then he would
be more happy than if he had lived. He then
took my little brother Gloucester on his knees and
said to him: 'Listen to me, my dear boy; they are
going to cut off your father's head, and may be
they may wish afterward to make you king, but do
not forget that which I am going to tell you,-not
to let them make you king.' The child sighed
deeply and replied that he would rather be torn in
pieces, which answer greatly pleased the king."
Here the story of the farewell broke off, for
death had stopped the hand of the young princess.
The body was put in a leaden coffin with this
inscription:
"ELIZABETH,
SECOND DAUGHTER OF THE LAST KING CHARLES,
DIED 8TH SEPTEMBER, 1650,"

and placed in the church of St. Thomas, near the
altar. The initials "E. S." (Elizabeth Stuart)
marked the place, which for a long time was for-
gotten. Queen Victoria recently ordered the old
church to be torn down, and Prince Albert laid the










~



--Tr7

;---;;


il~~ ;I
:--.-r- ~ ~;-
;;


.x~l -

''I'

,
,t 1'


~:R3~:!

~I


1


~
-~ id
Ci i"j
"":`:;~s~ ;;




B
1
... -
-;i
'.~LL


r

.*!S
j _. .
-,' .-5


a '.


CHARLES I. AND HIS FAMILY IN THE ROYAL BARGE,


Cn
4-


* ft
.1


A-.


c;


~-~s


II -







COMPANY TO SUPPER.


corner-stone of a new one in which the remains
of the little princess were deposited and where a
monument was set up to her memory. This
monument represents her as she lay in the sleep
of death, and was furnished by the queen herself.
The little Duke of Gloucester, after the death of
his sister, refused all nourishment; and Cromwell,
fearing he would die in prison, set him at liberty.
He rejoined his mother in France, but. everywhere
the sad memories of his father and sister haunted
him, and even the joys of the restoration of his
brother to the English throne did not soothe his
grief. He became more and more mournful, and
died at the age of twenty in the palace of White-


hall. I wish I had space to tell you of the noble.
and generous Henry, Prince of Wales; of Charles.
I., fondly called by his parents "Babie Charles;" of
his girl-wife Henrietta Maria, spoken of in the story,
"A CG,: i...... i.' Warning," in ST. NICHOLAS for
January, 1877; of the little Duchess of Burgundy,
who married a grandson of Louis XIV. of France
when she was only thirteen years old and could
neither read nor write, and of a host of other royal
children; but as I have not, I hope that you,
dear readers, have derived some pleasure from
hearing a little about boys and girls who, though
they were princes and princesses, were not very
different from other children after all.


COMPANY TO SUPPER.

BY FRANCES LEE.


THERE was not a living being in the house but
Delia, Lottie and me, excepting the cat who was
snoozing away by the kitchen stove.
The rest had all gone to Falltown to some kind
of a meeting. There was always something going
on somewhere for the grown folks, and I suppose
there was never a child in the world who hated to
be left alone worse than I did. So this time they
let me have Delia and Lottie come to stay with me.
We were upstairs braiding palm-leaf hats,-girls
were brought up to work in that town,-when sud-
denly the front-door-bell rang.
Now, the front-door-bell was not rung more
than once in three months, and it was so rough
and rusty it would only tinkle. Almost everybody
came through the side yard to the double-leaved
doors that always stood open into the little square
south entry with the sun shining in.
So, if the bell rang, it could n't be one of the
neighbors. It must be a good deal of a stranger,
and I was as afraid of strangers as I was of dogs.
Let 's pretend we did n't hear it," said Delia.
Seems as if I heard something, but may be it
was the cat knocking down a milk-pan," said I.
But it was of no use. There came another
tinkle, as though a sheep with a bell around his
neck had bitten off a mouthful of tough grass.
I thought I heard a wagon stop a long time
ago," said Lottie. Yes, there is one tied out
there," she added, skirmishing to the upper hall
window. You will have to go, Totty."
No, you need n't. Pretend we were braiding


so fast we could n't hear a thing," said Delia, who.
would go out of her way to tell a story, any time.
Oh, I '1 have to go I don't dare to not," said
I, casting aside my braiding in despair.
Then I pattered down the short mahogany-
stained flight of stairs, the bell ringing for the third
time, and tugged away at the great door-key.
How it did hate to turn in the rusted lock!
And when it turned at last with a complaining
shriek, how the brass door-knob refused to move !
Then a strong hand from outside took hold, the-
bolts gave way, the door flew open in a ;.1-1;..
and there stood two men. One was a very tall
man, and one was a middling-sized man, and they
had whiskers and hats and linen coats.
"Good afternoon," said they, making bows..
" Is nobody at home but you?"
No, ma'am; no, sir; the folks are all gone to-
Falltown," said I, hoping with all my might they
would keep right on to Falltown, too. But then my
sense of hospitality set in, and I added: They 'll
be coming home soon. Will you walk in ? "
Thank you," said the middling-sized man.
May we put our horses in the barn first?"
"Yes, ma'am; yes, sir," said I, glad to be rid
of them for so long. Then I ran upstairs to the
girls.
They are going to stay; they are putting up-
their horses. I guess they 've come to. see Amy.
She has a great many gentlemen friends," said I,
proudly ; minded to pick up what crumbs of com-
fort I could.







COMPANY TO SUPPER.


Then I shall go right straight home," said
Delia, tying up her straws. And, Lottie, you 've
got to go with me, because you are my company."
0, don't go !" I cried, in an agony of bashful
terror at the thought of being left to face the
strangers alone.
"Will you give me your beads if I stay?"
demanded Delia.
My beads were six in number, made of white
glass with square sides. 'They were strung on a
red thread, and, when they were not a finger-ring,
I kept them in an isinglass box along with the only
tooth I had yet shed, a Sabbath-school card
marked five mills," a piece of blue clay, the head
of a doll, and a horse-chestnut. It went to my
heart to lose these beads, but anything was better
than losing the girls, so I was just going to say that
Delia could have them, when Lottie spoke up.
"Are n't you ashamed, Delia, to try to get
away Totty's beads?" said she. I '11 stay with
you, Totty, till the folks come, any way."
I looked at her gratefully.
Do you want a bite of my liquorice ?" said I,
plunging to the bottom of my pocket and bringing
up a small piece wrapped in a bit of newspaper.
I don't care," said she, holding out her hand.
" Where shall I bite to?"
Bite to there," said I, marking off a space with
my finger-nail. "And Delia may have a taste,
too," I continued, i1!li, to heap a few coals of
fire on her head. But Delia was not very sensitive,
and, accordingly, she helped herself to a generous
mouthful, and did n't seem to feel scorched a bit.
Let 's go down-stairs and be there when they
come in from untackling," said she, just as though
she had n't thought of going home.
Well," said I, bundling up my hat and straws.
So, when the tall man and the middling-sized
man came in, there we sat in a row on the high,
red, wooden chairs, with our feet dangling, and
each with a half-braided hat in her hands. The
gentlemen paused a moment, as though a little
surprised at such an appearance, and as though
they expected some sort of introduction or saluta-
tion. A faint impression floated over my mind at
the same time that something of the kind would be
proper. But what could I do? Was I to say:
"This is Lottie, and this is Delia?" or Miss Pitt
and Miss Lutton?" And if I knew what to call the
girls, I was not sure about the gentlemen's names.
One I knew to be a Mr. Bowers, an old school
friend of my sister, and the other might be-I was
not certain-a Mr. Linden, whom I had seen once.
So as I did not know exactly what to do, I did
nothing, which was perhaps the best way, but sat
and braided and felt ashamed; and the young
men looked over the books on the baize-covered


side-table and tried to talk with us. Finally they
took pity on us as well as on themselves, and went
out for a walk up Deer Hill, and then Delia made
up her mind she would go home, any way.
Come, Lottie," said she with authority; you
are my company."
Oh Lottie said she would stay till the folks
come," I cried. Delia, you shall have my beads
and all my piece of liquorice if you '11 let her stay."
Of course I 'm not going to go and leave you
alone, Totty. I said I would n't. Delia can go if
she wants to," said Lottie, heartily. I feel grate-
ful to her now for it.
So Delia went off "mad." But as for that,
she usually went away in that condition.
After that, Lottie and I sat in the double door-
way watching the shadows of the elm-tree creep
over the yard, and the swallows flashing up and
down, and the clouds changing to crimson and
gold as the sun sank lower and lower toward the
purple hills,-watching and listening.
There they are !" I cried joyfully at last, at the
sound of carriage wheels on the long hill.
It came slow and faint for a while, then quick-
ened into a fast rattle at the bottom of the hill.
Then we heard the rumble of wheels and sharp
strike of heels on the little wooden bridge. Then
the sounds died away.
Coming up the short hill. They '11 be here in
just two minutes," said I.
And sure enough in a minute we heard the
wheels nearer and sharper, and in another minute
Uncle Lacy's pudding-and-milk horse and round-
topped chaise trotted by.
Oh! Pa will come next," said I.
But no! Next came a pair of ink-black horses,
driven rapidly by an elegantly dressed gentleman.
That is Squire Palmer. He lives in Squakeag,
and he always wears gloves," said I. Pa'll be
the next one. Hark! I hear him now."
But I was mistaken, for then came Deacon Davis
and his wife, riding behind a bony horse in a high
green wagon, and looking like two bags of meal.
Then some travelers drove along. A man and
a woman, with two little children sitting on stools
in front, and two more behind on two more
stools. They looked like pins on a pin-cushion,
they were stuck in so thick.
After that was Captain Ingraham, chucking the
reins and saying Cadep!" to his old sorrel horse.
He was going the other way, though.
At last, when it seemed as though everybody in
-town had gone by, we heard another welcome rat-
tle and clatter.
"That is our folks! It must be! There is
nobody left," I said, with a great sense of relief.
But it was n't ; and it was n't anybody. Or if it


586


[JULY,







1879.] COMPANY T


was, he stopped at one of the three houses between
us and the top of the hill.
The young men had come in long before. I
heard them trying to amuse themselves by decla-
mations and discussions; and now the stars had
begun to flicker out one by one, and the bats to
fly through the soft summer twilight. So I lighted
one of the candles in the best brass candlestick,
and carried it into the sitting-room.
I guess they 'll be in before long," said I, in
bashful apology.
I should think they had been long now," re-
torted the tall man.
I smiled a grim little smile, and went out feeling
as though I had committed one of the seven
deadly sins against the grammar and dictionary.
"Two wagons more have come down the hill
and not gone by. They are ghost wagons," called
Lottie from the door-step.
OLottie You don't think anything has hap-
pened, do you?" I cried.
No, there could n't," said she, confidently.
" And if there had, somebody would come and tell
us. It was about as dark as this, though, that
time Deacon Davis's horse got scared at Captain
Ingraham's bars, and turned around so sharp he
broke the thill right smack off," she continued.
I know it," I answered, looking wistfully at the
lights twinkling out here and there in the houses
where there was a mother at home.
"You remember how Deacon Davis got tipped
over that other time, coming down Mr. Potter's
hill, don't you ?" continued Lottie. Uncle Lacy
was going by him,-Pa says it is dreadful careless
to go by going down hill,-and so Deacon Davis
turned out and the rein got caught, and when he
tried to turn the old horse back she did n't go
back, but kept turning out and turning out till the
wagon tipped over, and broke Mrs. Deacon Davis's
arm. Aunt Patty went over and got supper, and
washed up the dishes, and she said the knives were
just as black as anybody's, for all Mrs. Davis is
such an awfully particular woman."
Lottie," said I, dismally, "do you suppose
my mother's arm is broken and our wagon is
tipped over?"
Why, no! Your horse is n't skittery, is he?
Perhaps your folks have gone somewhere to stay
all night."
Then I 'd ought to get supper for the com-
pany," said I, feeling as though the weight of the
whole universe was pressing down upon me.
Well, I'11 help you," said Lottie, cheerfully.
Oh yes i I could be cheerful if it was her house
and her company and I was helping her. Though
I always did despise setting tables. It is- just the
same thing right over and over, and you know all


'0 SUPPER.


the time that it is n't going to stay. But it had to
be done. So I spread the cloth.
It was n't clean-the table-cloth was n't; but I
thought I could cover the marks of' Sebastian's
gravy and the molasses I dropped on it at break-
fast, with the plates. There was some cold tea in
the tea-pot, and, while Lottie put it on the stove
to heat, I rummaged in the safe for the supper.
"I almost know Ma would have honey if she
was here," said I, coming out with a bowl of cider-
apple-sauce, and white bread, like enough."
Yes," said Lottie; my mother always does
for company. They will expect it, I guess. But you
don't know where your Ma keeps it, do you?"
No, not exactly; perhaps I could find it; but
she said the supper was all in the safe," said I,
conscientiously, bringing out a plate of rye bread
and half of a currant pie. I guess it is ready
now, and I s'pose I 've got to call them, but I 'd
pretty near rather go up Deer Hill in the dark all
alone," I continued, after running out and in, and
up and down, a dozen times.
So I went to the sitting-room door and said,
faintly, "Supper's ready." Then it occurred to
me that, probably, Amy would have said, "Will
you walk out to tea?" and I wished I could drop
through the floor into the potato-cellar.
But they walked out just as readily as though I
had asked them to. And then what was I to do ?
I had hardly ever eaten a meal in my life until
somebody had asked a blessing;. and, in my uncer-
tainty as to what it would be proper to say, I just
looked wishfully at Mr. Bowers, who was studying
to be a minister, and he went on with it just as
though I had spoken.
So it was all right so far, and I began to pour
the tea. But where were the tea-spoons ? And
when I had slipped from my chair and brought
them, behold, the sugar-bowl had been forgotten !
The company did n't seem to care, though, and
appeared to relish the rye bread and half a cur-
rant pie, too. I suppose they were pretty hungry,
for it seemed they had n't had any dinner. So
they ate and ate; and before they had finished
eating, there was a sound of wheels and hoofs,
and my father said, "Whoa!" right at the very
door, without our having heard them coming at all.
They came in-my sisters and mother and
father-all in a burst out of the darkness, filling
the house with hospitality and cheer. They had
been to Deacon Wright's to tea. They said they
told me they should go there, but I don't believe
to this day that they ever said a word about it.
My sisters were, of course, very much mortified
at everything I had done and at everything I
had n't done: they always were.
Totty, why did n't you ask them into the par-







BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO


lor instead of the sitting-room ?" they said; and
why did n't you do this?" "And why did you do
that?" I even felt, at last, that somehow I was
to blame for their staying to Deacon Wright's to
tea. Why, bless them, Idid n't want them to stay.
But the worst of it was Delia's stories. The girls
all knew she would tell them, and so did her
mother. People will, though, get a little stain of
prejudice from a story-teller, especially as such
folks are apt to catch at a person's weak side, and
start by taking a few grains of truth.
Totty did n't know a thing what to do," said
she. "I and Lottie did it all. Totty teased me
and teased me to stay, so I did, and I had to get
the supper; make the biscuits and all. I had to


visit with the company, too,-I and Lottie; we
sang for them pieces they picked out for us in the
music-book,-hard pieces. We sang duets when
there was duets for two, and when there was a duet
for one I sang that alone."
Lottie said she should n't care. Nobody would
believe a word Delia said. But Delia's mother did,
I know; for she told Aunt Patty afterward that
Totty was a good girl enough at her books, but she
did n't know how to take hold of work, and she
would never set the river on fire. Aunt Patty told
me of it one day when she thought I needed put-
ting down.
And perhaps Delia's mother was right; for, sure
enough, I never have set any river on fire.


BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.

BY WM. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.


THTr f..,vers were just coming into
1..-.. n when a Japanese family
S ," Tokio was made very happy,
... May morning, eleven years
.- .. Their house stood on the
-lope of a hill within sight of
the flukes of the tail of the
great bronze fish on top of
Sthe castle towers. Mr.
Ishido, papa and proprie-

Neighbors were calling
every few minutes to con-
gratulate him, and if you
had noticed, you would
have seen that each little
girl or lady carried a pres-
ent carefully tied up with
a pretty kind of cord made
Sof red and white paper.
What did all this mean ?
Simply this: that Ishido
San (Mr. Stone-lamp)
HAPPY QLD GR.ANDMA." was rejoicing in a son.
The female neighbors
had come to congratulate Mrs. Ishido, and bring
the baby a present. A rich friend of Mrs. Ishido
had actually sent a silk robe embroidered with the
pine-tree, stork, and tortoise, the emblems of long
life; by which the giver meant to express the hope
that baby would live to be an old man.


I wonder what they will name him," said one
old lady to another.
Oh, that 's settled," said the other. "All the
peach and cherry trees are in blossom. So he
shall be named after the spring and
blossoms, Harukichi (the Blossom-
boy).
- So, when Blossom-boy was thirty
days old, he was dressed in his new
robes, and taken to the temple to
receive his name.
Mother and father,
aunts and cousins,
with the nurse-
maid, made -up a
gay procession. LITTLE
Even happy old PLUM-TREE."
grandma, who had to take her
walking-stick with her, was tempt-
ed out by the fine weather. Oba
San, as they called her, had wrin-
kles on her forehead, but none in
her heart. She loved to smile.
and though much bent in her
back, was very happy over her
new grandchild.
"oN HIS NURSE'S Although it was June, and not
BACK." winter, yet the snow-showers fell,
but not from the skies. The falling white petals
of the cherry-blossoms filled the air and strewed
the ground. At the temple, the smooth-pated old


[JULY,







BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


priest, after asking grandma what the child should
be called, and receiving her answer, announced
the name Harukichi."
This was engraved on a small
brass plate, with the name of
his father and mother, and the
number of the house and name
of the street in which they lived.
The brass plate
was carefully slip-
ped into a pretty
bag made of red
cloth, and hung to
his belt, which he
was to wear while
a baby, and until
he became a big
boy. Should he
"A GENTLEMAN FANNING get lost, any one, by opening
HIMSELF." the bag and reading the plate,
could return him to his parents.
Harukichi never lived or slept in a cradle. They
don't have such a thing in Japan; but he was
carried on his nurse's back, or on his mother's or
sister's. Even quite small children carry on their
backs their baby brothers and sisters, who are
tucked in under the outside coats; and a stranger















"THE OLD MAN AND HIS WIFE.)
is apt at first to think there are a great many two-
headed children. They look so at a distance.
Blossom-boy soon learned to slip down off nurse's
back, and run around at play. He was a chubby
little fellow, as round as a dumpling, and looked
enough like a Japanese doll to be its cousin. His
head was shaved just like a doll's, with bangs,"
and rings, and locks, with a tiny cue or top-knot.
Japanese dolls are painted blue on the head to
show the shaved places. His skin was as soft as a
peach, and of a color like cafe-au-lait. His eyes
were black and snappy. His cheeks were as rosy
as a plum-blossomn.
His clothes were just made to play in. Not a
button or strap anywhere about them, nor a pin to


589


stick him 1 His robe was one thin loose garment
in summer. In winter, he put on several padded
and soft coats, like wrappers. All his clothing was
fastened on with a belt round the waist. His socks
were funny little bags, or mittens, made of thick
muslin. The big toe (which Harukichi called his
" foot-thumb") had a little place by itself, just like
the finger of a glove. His shoes were made of
straw. They were flat
sandals bound on by
a strap, or bit of rice-
twine, over his instep.
Every one in Japan
takes off his shoes and
leaves them outside,
on the door-step, when
he enters the house.
" A BOX OF TEA."
BOX OF TEA.Inside, the floors are
covered with matting two inches thick. The doors
and partitions slide in grooves, and do not hang
on hinges. All the windows are of paper. In the
yard at the side of Harukichi's house were many
curious flowers, and a pond full of gold-fish two
feet long. Harukichi used to feed these gold and
silver carp with cracknels made of rice-flour.
It was a great day in Blossom-boy's life when his
father came.home one evening and said to him:
To-morrow is a matsuri (holiday), and I am
going to take you walking with me along the 0
Dori to see the sights. Then we shall take a row
down the river, and see the 'fire-flowers'" (fire-
works).
Oh oh oh cried Harukichi, and that
night he dreamed of the stars blossoming on the
earth, and the sky blooming with flowers.


"THE ONE-HORSE SHAY."


It was a warm day, and, as they went out of the
house, they met a gentleman fanning himself. He
used an ogi (a fan which opens and shuts), as


s879.]







BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


Japanese gentlemen usually do, for the Japanese puff at the lower part of the back of the head like
ladies use the uichiwa (the flat fan). the head-dress of unmarried women.
Next they passed a young girl named Little 'Abunai/ abunai/" (Look out! look out!)
Plum-tree, who was carrying a box shouted a big strong man as he rushed
of boiled rice and fish to her father .-:' forward, pulling a little carriage in which
for his lunch. Mr. Ishido knew ;.* /? sat a woman. The "one-horse shay,"
them both, so he stopped a moment .- which was a one-man sha,


and bowed, saying, Ohio!" (You
are early, or good morning!)
Everything Blossom-boy saw in-
terested him, and
he put many ques-
tions to his father.
0 Totsu San,
What is that man
drawing on the lit-
tle cart?" said he.


I ,








"A JAPANESE FARMER."


S "That is a box of tea; he is
carrying it to be fired," said 0
Totsu (papa).
"What does that mean, father?"
"Well," said 0 Totsu, "the
tea is now packed only in a thin
box pasted over with paper. He
has sold it to a merchant who
lives in a country very far off, on
the other side of the Sea of Great
"THE POLICEMAN." Peace (Pacific Ocean). In order
to keep the tea from spoiling it must be fired, or
heated hot, in an iron pan. Then .it must be re-
packed in sheet-lead and the box covered with mat-
ting, and the name of the steamship pasted on it."
Next they met an old man with bent back, lean-
ing on a staff, with all the hair gone from his head.
His wife, like himself, was "lobster-backed" (as the


was run not by steam
power, nor by horse power,
but by man power.
Jin-riki-sha jin-riki-
ska /" cried Harukichi, as
it dashed by. The man
was inside the shafts, and
being strong-legged and
having good lungs, he went
as fast as a horse; running


easily four miles in an hour and
without stopping.
As they passed through the
streets of Tokio -they saw hun-
dreds of these little carriages, and
men waiting near them for a job.
The price of a ride was two "THE SINGING-
tempos (two cents) a mile. GIRL."
0 Totsu and Harukichi had now turned into that
part of the main street named Ginza (Silver Mint),
so called because a long time ago there was a mint
in it, where they stamped the flat silver coins as
square as a brick, called bu, ichi bu ni bu, etc.
Ginza, the Broadway of Tokio, is always lively, and


"THE AMERICAN PEOPLE IN THE BA-SHA."
Japanese say), but her gray hair was neatly rolled full of people both day and night. They looked
into the style of married women, which has no into the toy shops, and 0 Totsu bought Blossom-
" bangs" or front lock as with young girls, or the boy a top. They visited a store where only things


[JULY,







BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


made of straw were kept. There were hats, cloaks,
rain-coats, shoes, leggings, boxes, ropes, twine,
matting, ships' sails, dolls and col-
ored toys such as birds, animals, etc.,
all made of straw. Here 0 Totsu
bought a toy tiger for Harukichi.
There were several farmers who
bought cloaks and leggings. A Jap-
anese farmer at work looks just like
a man of straw.
Who is that man carrying a club,
with a round hat on like a basin?"
said Harukichi.
Oh, he 's a policeman; he's as
proud as ateng-u (mountain imp with
long nose.) See his
lips stand out."
Then they stopped
for a moment to
listen to a singing- "THE BLIND M.
girl who was play-
ing on a three-stringed banjo-.
She had on a wide girdle tied
in a big bow behind,
with knots and tail.
She sang a song about
"' spring," and "cherry
blossoms" and "the
flourishing reign of the
Mikado." When, after
the song, she put out
her hand for money,
"THE STREET PEDDLER." little Harukichi drop-
ped in it three or four small copper coins, each
of which had a square hole in the center.
As they were going along, Harukichi saw, some



















"THE DANCING-GIRL AND HER SERVANT."
distance off, a great cuttle-fish, made of paper,
dangling in the air in front of a shop.


0 Totsu, what is that? It's a lako (cuttle-
fish), is n't it?"
Yes," said 0 Totsu, laughing. "It is a
tako (kite) and I '11 buy you one."
So by a pun on the word tako, which means
either kite or cuttle-fish, a cuttle-fish served as
a sign for the
'shops where
paper-kites
were for sale.
When they
had selected a
huge square
beauty, they
heard a noise
in the street,"
and so rushed
out to see
what could be
.N." coming.
Somebody
was shouting out
"Hai/ Aai / hai!"
far back, from the
very middle of the
street, which was
crowded with peo- "AMA-ZAKO i
ple. Every one stepped aside to make way. A
betto or ostler appeared running with all his
might on his legs, and moving his fists out.and
elbows behind him, very red in the face, and the
top-knot on his head tossed back until it had
slipped off his crown.
He shouted out to all,
pushed men and women
aside, and if a-baby or
child was playing in the
street, he stooped and
lifted it aside.
"0 Totsu, look at the
ba-sha (horse-wagon),
and the To-jin (Chinese)
riding in it."
On rattled the ba-ska,
full of American people.
There were two ladies
and gentlemen and a boy
riding behind. A Jap-
anese driver with bare
head-for the Japanese
don't wear hats-sat in "THE SERVANT fROM THE
front, using the whip RESTAURANT."
freely and shouting more than was necessary.
What amused Harukichi most was to see a
spotted carriage-dog running beside the horse
under his body. He also wondered at the hats
and clothes and curious eyes and hair of the







BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


"THE WRITING-LESSON."
of Japan, just as many of our American people do
not know the difference between Japanese and
*Chinese.
You must not call them Tojin (Chinese), my
little doji (boy), but America-'in. They are from
the country of the flowery flag, across the Sea of
Great Peace."
By this time, they had crossed the Nikon .Bashi,
or Bridge of Japan. From this they could see
Fuji yama, the castle towers, and the great fish-
market. On huge trays lay hundreds of sharks,
eels, gar-fish, pike, bonito, mackerel, and the
crimson tai. There were cuttle-fishes three feet
long, and crabs four feet long, for sale. Many
men were mincing fish to make fish-sausage and
sauces. They leaned on the railing a long while
looking over the wide canal, and at the boats
shooting past or unloading fish, salt, sugar, or tea
at the white clay fire-proof houses that lined the
canal. While thus looking, holding his father's
hand and too busy watching a man catching eels
to hear the sound of a whistle, Harukichi felt him-
self jostled. As he turned round he saw a blind


mirn., 'ho s id. Gomen nasal." (Please grant
...i l ...r.i i -. p-l i on.) The blind men, called
S .1. ..,. ii. i long cane to poke their way
.i....,... I. ... a whistle to tell people to
i.. .... r .i:.! I...i .., or help them over danger-
.*: i, ...:. i. ..ll iIm have round-shaven heads.
Ir i-. .' i..i i..:1 .~:i toward Yanagi-Cho (Willow.
,:, '-. '.: Totsu stopped, and bought a
. I ..' .' --... sweetened drink made from
rice. The fellow who sold
it was a merry chap, who
carried two huge three-leg-
ged red tubs, slung from a
pole across his shoulder.
He shouted "Ama-zake!
Sama-zake'/" His wide hat,
called a roof," was fes-
tooned and stuck over with
straw and flowers. It being
Sa warm day, he had fixed
his oiled paper umbrella into
the handle of one of the
S tubs. In his pocket was
S rolled up an advertisement
praising the virtues of the
/' sweet drink. This he un-
rolled occasionally.
Soon they reached the
Seido Canal, one of the
many that pass through
Tokio. Then they stood on
the new bridge of "Ten
Thousand Reigns of Mika-
dos," and looked down to
see the sharp-prowed "house-boats," full of picnic
parties which the oarmen were sculling down to
the Sumida River. 0 Totsu hired one of the
smaller boats
near the land-
ing, and also
a strong fellow
as the sculler.
About dark
they shot into
the Sumida,
and drifted
slowly down
the tide, while
they unpacked
their supper of
rice, fish and
eggs.
The malsuri, .
or the open-
ing of the Su- THE READING-MASTER."
mida," took place once a year, and thousands of
boats, filled with ten thousand merry people, shot


[JULY,


592






1879.] BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO. 593


hither and thither over the gleaming water. The
river glittered with ten thousand colored lanterns.
The people on many .
of the larger boats
sent up rockets and
fire-balls which ex-., \
ploded far up in the 9 .1_-\
air. The largest '.
were shot straight up
into the air, out of
heavy wooden can-
nons hooped with
bamboo; and the /, '
sky was streaked with
red and yellow flame.
Fiery dragons chased
each other among
the stars, cats ran
after mice, a rabbit
stood on his hind legs
with ears up, and a BALANCING THE SPINNING TOP
"cuttle-fish spread out ON A STRING."
its cuppy arms. When the fun was over, they left
the boats lower down the river, and landing, took
a jin-riki-sha and rode homeward. Harukichi,
though very tired, was not sleepy, and enjoyed
seeing the long
avenue 0 Dori
.._ lighted up with
0; thousands of
S\r paperlanterns.
Every one in
e ,.; Japan is re-
quired by 1, .' to carry a light
at night, a,. I ?I the tea-houses
were festoor I with them in
allcolors. Tl.: went past the
dancing g, with her huge
wide fan, an .-' herservantbe-
hind her car:- ing the cho-
chin (pap.- lantern with a
handle). TI. street peddler
held a lantern so large that
he had to use / both hands to
hold it. On it, he advertised
in large letters "TOSSING THE his very odd
SPINNING TOP. y
assortment of wares, which
he carried in a box strapped over his shoulders.
They saw a servant from a restaurant carrying
out to a feast, in a house near by, a nest of lac-
quered boxes full of fried eels, baked fish, prawn
salad, omelets, and eggs, with several kinds of
pickles and sauces. The dessert consisted of
sponge cake, candied walnuts, and sugar jelly.
He balanced the load on his shoulders. At last,
they reached home, and while 0 Totsu and Oka
(mamma) were having a talk together, Harukichi
VOL. VI.-40.


crept quietly under his mosquito net and lay down.
Very soon, he was fast asleep.
Harukichi slept a little later than usual next
morning, but he was up and had his rice-and-tea-
breakfast in time to be at school without being
late. Let us take a peep into the sho gakko or
primary school.
Almost the first thing which Harukichi and all
other Japanese boys learn, is how to write the
Japanese alphabet,
which has forty-seven .
letters in it. These
are not a, b, c, d, -
but i, ro, ha, ni, he,
ho, etc. I-nu means
dog, ne-ko, cat, u-chi, ..
house, te, hand, to,
ten, etc.
The writing-master '
makes a stool of his
knees and heels, for. "
the people do not use\
chairs. The matting-
covered floors are as
clean as a chair. On
the little table at his
left, is his ink-stone,
on which he rubs his
SPINNING THE TOP SIDEWISE.'
India" ink with a
little water from the water-holder. He likes two
peacock's feathers instead of flowers. Squatting
before his reading-desk he calls off, from the open
book, the letters or words to be written. He holds


WHIPPING A TOP."

his fan ready to rap for order, to cool his face,
or to beckon the scholars to be ready to recite.






BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


'T 1Ti he boys always
wear their samu-
rai dress when
at school. They hold their brush-pen straight in
their fingers. When they can write and read the
i-ro-ha (ABC), they begin to study Chinese, as we
study Latin and Greek in college. They first
learn the sounds, and
how to pronounce
every word in the
book, before they
study the meaning
or translate it.
Then the reading- 4 '.
master takes them.
From him they learn -
the meaning of the
sentences in the clas- '
sics. It is a little ?
tiresome to sit so long
in school, and the
boys often think of .THE SINGING TOP."
their tops and kites,
but they are taught good manners also, and, as it is
not considered polite for boys to yawn or be restless,
even in school, they feel obliged to keep very still.


off, hanging up his black-
ened copy-book to dry. At
home he takes off his school-
Sclothes, keeping on only one
summer robe; then he goes
to play. He has to practice
a good while with his top be-
fore he can do all the tricks
which he sees the bigger boys
do. The top is made of
wood, with an iron band
around the edge, and a steel
UNIPLINGS. plug running through it like
a spindle. When he can bal-
ance it on the string while it is spinning, or toss
it off and pick it up again, or spin it sidewise,
he is happy, and
capers as if wild.
Other kinds of Jap-
anese tops are the
whipping-top, and a
clumsy sort which
hums orsings. This
is set going by turn-
ing it between the
hands. When tired
of his tops, Haru-
kichi gets out his
stilts made of stout '
bamboo cane, and
goes tramping about.
One of the favorite
games which the
boys play, is to take
four threads and tie
one of them to some
dango (sugar dump-
lings). Then all the ..
threads are laid together, each boy pulls one, and
whoever pulls the right thread gets the sweetmeat.


"ONI-BA," OR PRISONERS' BASE.


By and by, the porter clicks a wooden clapper Next door to Harukichi lived his favorite play-
very loudly, and it is noon. Then, Harukichi hurries mate, a little fellow named Joji. Most of their


[JULY,






BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


games they played out-of-doors. Just between the
two houses was a post; with this they played
"oni-ba" (prisoners' base). One boy tied him-
self by his girdle to the post, and was the oni or
imp, who tried to clutch any one who wandered
too near. To pull down the eyelid, or put out the
tongue, was supposed to make the oni very angry.
When tired of this game, the two boys played blind-
man's-buff.
One day, a stout old aunty who liked Harukichi,
made him a present of a little kite, cut in the
shape of a baby boy. It was made of paper pasted
on bamboo, and painted until it looked just like a
chubby boy with arms stretched out. Harukichi
soon learned to fly it, using only a thread. When
just over the houses, it looked like a baby dancing
in the air.
But when he wanted to raise a big kite, four feet
square,' which
had no bobs,
and could go up
almost into the
Clouds, and pull
South a basketful


of heavy cord almost as thick as a rope,
he asked a big boy (who was large enough
to wear a cue or top-knot) to fly it for him.
In a high wind, little boys have often been pulled
over fences, and
1. ;^ along a rough
4 field, or have
had to let go,
so hard was the
S' strain of the big
.. I kite. This stout
S fellow, Kingo,
/ ', taught him how
' to raise the kite,
which was cov-
ered over with
Chinese letters.
He also showed
him the way to
make and to
send a paper
messenger up
along the string
tothe kite. This
messenger was
THE OLD AUNTY AND THE KITE. a bundle of hun-
dreds of little bits of red and white paper. The
wind blew it along up the string. When near


the top, a jerk of the cord opened the bundle, and
scattered in the air a red and white shower which


SBLIND-MAN'S-BUFF.
fell fluttering and whirling to the ground like snow.
When Harukichi comes into the house all tired
after the play, he first takes off his sandals, and
goes in by the side door; for 0 Tama, the
ruddy buxom servant-girl, is scrubbing the
porch clean. She uses no soap, but
with hot water and a straw scrub-
ber and cloth, and good hard


"-FLYING THE BIG KITE."
scrubbing, she makes the fine veined wood of the
portico shine. When she is at work, she ties up her


7879-1






BLOSSOM-BOY OF TOKIO.


long loose sleeves with a cord round over her
shoulders.
In the house, Harukichi puts away his kite, and


"HANDING THE SUGAR-JELLY."


then mother is ready to welcome her Blossom-boy
with a bit of sugar-jelly. She hands it to him with
two short ivory rods called hashi (chop-sticks)
which are used in the place of spoons or forks.
No wonder the mother loves her Blossom-boy, for
he always obeys her, never answering her back, nor
pouting, nor saying nazi (why) ? Politeness, even
among children, is the rule in Japan ; and rare is
the ill-tempered or disobedient child in the Mi-
kado's empire. Not all my readers perhaps will
believe this statement, but I was acquainted with
too many Harukichis and Sataros and Jojis and
Ames and Kinzos in Japan, to be mistaken.


Harukichi is industrious, too, and is learning
rapidly even in a school that must seem a very
curious one to our young people. You may be


"THE SERVANT-GIRL, SCRUBBING."

surprised to hear that he hopes to travel to Amer-
ica some day, and let his hair grow like that of
American boys. But many Japanese young men
have already visited this country,-indeed, a num-
ber of them are now being educated in some of our
schools and colleges,-and once here, the Japanese
always prefer to dress like the Americans, in
which they differ again from their old neighbors
the Chinese, who persist in wearing their native
costumes wherever they go.
Sometime we may call and see Blossom-boy
again, and take another walk in Tokio with him
before he leaves Japan.


. "' F-TFL-_______



_ ;.. .-
KA4: v ;
~IF-~It


A VIEW IN JAPAN.







i879.] THE CHILD AND THE IMAGE. 597


A POOR LITTLE MOTHER.

BY MARY L. BOLLES BRANCH.

ONCE a little lady dressed in black and red
Tucked her little children safely in their bed.
A green leaf curling over was all the roof they had,
But the softly singing breezes and the sunshine made them glad.

Off flew the little mother through the pleasant summer air;
She never thought of danger, nor felt a single care.
A grassy glade, a hill-top, and then a field of clover
This little dame in black and red went flying gayly over.

But in a pretty garden where grew a red, red rose,
The little lady lighted to nestle and repose;
As soft as fairy velvet, and oh, so red and sweet
Were the fragrant leaves around her and underneath her feet.

Out tripped a merry maiden along the garden gay,
The red, red rose to gather, to the little dame's dismay.
She drowsily came creeping from out sweet rose-leaf land,
And stood a moment thinking on the merry maiden's hand.

The little maid laughed softly, she was so full of glee,
Held up her dimpled finger, and clear and loud called she:
Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home
Your house is on fire, and your children will burn!"
Off flew that little mother in terror wild and dread
Across the hill and grassy glade and field of clover red.

Her little wings were aching, her anxious spirit drooped,
When at the tiny portal in breathless fear she stooped,-
There lay her little children all snugly tucked in bed,
Yes, safe and sound, and sleeping, with the green leaf overhead!





THE CHILD AND THE IMAGE.
(Suggested by an Actheal Incident.)

BY MONCURE D. CONWAY.


A LITTLE girl was taken by her parents to visit
an ancient cathedral. While the parents were
admiring some fine old traceries about the door,
they were startled by a piercing cry from their
child, who shrank from the portal with signs of
terror, and hid her face in the mother's skirt.
"What is the matter?" cried both parents at
once.
Oh, the ugly man up there !" gasped the girl.
"Oh, mother, he has horrible horns and teeth.
I 'm afraid of him." And the little one shuddered.


The father's eye caught in a moment the figure
which had so terrified his little daughter. On one
side of the portal was a sculptured mediaeval figure
with horns and pitchfork, and large tusks; a fiend-
ish grin of malicious delight was on his face as he
trampled men and women down into a monster's
mouth yawning at his feet. The father half smiled
at his child's dismay, and said:
Do not fear, my darling. It cannot hurt you;
it is only stone; we wont look at it any more, but
go into the church." And he took her hand.







THE CHILD AND THE IMAGE.


Oh, no, no!" cried the child, still cowering,
and again clasping her mother. He's inside the
church; I know he is. Let 's run away !"
He 's not inside," said the father; there are
beautiful forms within. Don't be afraid."


was something like a child once. Can you under-
stand that?"
Not a bit," sighed the girl.
"I mean that, a long time ago, people, even
after they were grown-up, used to be frightened at


"SHE HID HER FACE IN HER MOTHER'S SKIRT.


"But why do they put him there?" asked the
girl, peeping out at the figure from the folds of her
mother's dress.
They placed him there when the church was
built, hundreds of years ago."
Who did?" .
The men who built the church."
They must have been very naughty men, and
I don't love them at all," said the child.
The parents were now laughing heartily, and the
girl, reassured by their merriment, looked up again
at the figure.
Is it funny?" she said.
"No," said .the father; but it is funny that
you should be frightened at such an old image,
which can only make grown-up people smile, or
look at it as a curiosity."
What is a curiosity?" said the child.
Something queer,-not like what you see
every day."
The child was still puzzled.
Did children put it there for grown-up people
to laugh at?" she inquired.
Well, my little one, you see, the whole world


big black clouds, and lightning, and at the dark,
just as you were frightened by that stone."
"I am not afraid of the dark," said the child.
No; because your mother and I, and all your
friends, were never afraid of it; nor of clouds and
thunder. But when the world was a child, as I
told you, it had not found out what darkness is,
and what the clouds are made of. Then they
thought that the cloud and thunder and the dark,
and everything ugly, and everything they were
afraid of,-snakes and tigers and cruel men,-
must have been made by a bad deity-not the
same that made the blue sky and the roses. Now,
that ugly figure there is that bad deity."
"Oh, oh !" exclaimed the child, "I 'm afraid
of him Where does that bad one live ?"
He does n't live at all. There is n't any bad
deity. They thought so, but they were mistaken,
-just as you were mistaken in thinking that stone
could hurt- you."
But why did they not take it down when they
found they were mistaken ?"
Why, when they found that the clouds and
darkness and snakes and tigers were not made by


[JULY,







THE CHILD AND THE IMAGE.


any bad power, they still thought there must be
one, because there were so many bad men and
women. When people killed each other, and did
other wicked things, they thought there must be a
big wicked creature who made them do it, in order
that he might get them after they were dead, and
treat them cruelly. So they kept him up there to
make people believe how ugly it was to be wicked
and cruel, and what a horrible monster would get
them."
"But did n't it frighten good people? How
could people play with their dolls and eat cake if
they thought there was a bad one with horns and
great teeth to eat everybody he could?"
Well, yes, it did frighten good people, till they
rose above it."
Father, what do you mean by rose above it? "
Oh, dear little questioner, we must really go
on now, and talk about all this at another time. I
mean that they rose above it by finding that there
was not really any such monster, just as you rose
above your fear when we told you the figure could
not hurt you."
The three entered the cathedral. The parents
pointed out to their child a beautiful statue of the
Madonna, but the child said, softly:
Mother, if that ugly one with horns were alive,
I could never play with my dolly. I would hide
her."
Don't think of that any more, little daughter,"
said the mother; "look at that beautiful babe
with light around its head, on the gay-colored
window."
The child gazed, but was silent; the cloud had
not lifted. Presently, they passed up a winding
stair-way, and stepped forth upon a parapet beneath
the clear morning sky. Then the mother saw that
her darling's eyes were full of tears. She pressed
the child to her breast, and soothed her, and
pointed her to the brilliant city.


Soon after, the child, grasped by her father's
hand, was suffered to look over the parapet's edge,
and, after gazing for a minute, she uttered another
cry,-this time a cry of delight.
Mother, mother, only see here, just below us
on the wall, is a nest and four dear little birds, and
there is an egg, too, quite sky-blue What a
cozy place they have; it's just made for a nest."
The mother hastened to look, and, even while
the two were gazing on the little family, the mother-
bird came, and the father, and there were happy
twitterings. The child's delight was great. But
the mother's eye had observed something else, and
she said:
Why, my darling, that place you think so cozy
for a nest is exactly on top of the head of the
ugly image that troubled you so See, his horns
keep it from falling. The mother-bird is n't fright-
ened, but nestles on them !"
Why, so it is !" exclaimed the little one.
" The bad man does n't look ugly from here; his
head holds up the birds'-nest."
That," said the father, "may show just what I
meant when I told you that people rose above it.
You are now above it. When you looked up to it,
it was frightful; when you look down on it, you can
see something sweet and loving going on over it,
and even held up by it. And some day, when you
have grown larger, you will love to remember to-
day, and how you came to look down on the
demon the first day you ever saw him."
"Come, father and mother!" cried the happy
child. The little boys and girls down-stairs may
be frightened; let us go and stand in the church-
door, and tell them not to look at the demon there,
where he 's horrid, but to come up here and see,
over his horns, the sky-blue egg, and the mother-
bird feeding its young."
The tears had disappeared from the child's eyes,
but they stood bright in those of the parents.


599







[JuLY,


BLOWN AWAY.


BLOWN AWAY.

BY CHARLES BARNARD.


/- : 1
4- !


1V '


I'


- '
I' '


"AH! A SPECK,-A BLACK DOT ON THE HORIZON!" [SEE PAGE 603.]


THERE were three of them,-Kitty, Mary,
and little Tommy,-the children of the station-
master at Black River Junction, on the Great
South-Western Railroad. The station stood alone
on the open prairie, miles and miles from anywhere
in particular. Black River flowed through the
mountains, a hundred miles away to the north; and
on clear days, the snowy mountains could be seen
glimmering on the grassy horizon. The line lead-
ing to the Black River met the South-Western
here, and thus it was the place was called Black
River Junction.
The station-master and his wife and three chil-


dren lived in the little d6p6t quite happily, but
there was not another family within ten miles, in
any direction.
At times the children thought it rather lonely.
There was nothing in particular to be done, except
to watch the trains that stopped at the junction
several times a day. Once in a while, a freight-car
would be left on the side track, and the children
soon found that an empty freight-car makes a cap-
ital play-house. They could keep house in the
corners and make visits, or sit by the open door
and make believe they were having a ride.
One morning, they were wakened by a curious


if 6-^







BLOWN AWAY.


humming sound out-of-doors, and they all scram-
bled up and looked out of the window. How the
wind did blow! It whistled and roared round the
house and played on the telegraph wires upon the
roof as upon a huge harp. As the wires were fas-
tened to the roof, the house became a great music-
box, with the children inside. After breakfast, the
morning trains arrived, but the wind was so high
that the passengers were glad to hurry from one
train to another as quickly as possible. Then the
trains went away, and the great wind-harp on the
roof sang louder than ever.
The station-master said it blew a gale, and that
the children must stay in the house, lest they be
blown away into the prairie and be lost. The
station-master's wife said it was a pity the children
must stay in the house all day. There was an
empty freight-car on the side track; perhaps they
might play in that. The station-master thought
this a good idea, and he took Kitty by the hand
and Tommy in his arms, while Mary took hold of
his coat, and they all went out to the empty car.
Whew! How it did blow! They certainly thought
they would be lifted up by the wind and blown
quite into the sky. The empty car was warm and
snug, and, once inside, they were quite out of the
way of the wind.
Mary thought the rear end would be a good
place to keep house, but Tommy preferred the
other end, so they agreed to keep house at both
ends of the empty car. This was a nice plan, for-
it gave them a chance to visit each other, and the
open part by the door made a grand promenade
to walk on.
Louder and louder roared the gale. Safe and
snug in the car, they went on with their play and
thought nothing of the weather outside.
Suddenly the car seemed to shake, and they
stopped in their housekeeping and ran to the
door to see what had happened.
"Why, it's moving! Somebody's pushing it,"
said Mary.
"They are taking us away on the freight train.
Come, we must get out."
I did n't hear the whistle," said Tommy. I
guess something is pushing the car."
The girls leaned out of the door to see what had
happened. Why, where was the platform? What
was the matter with the station? It was moving
away. No, it was the car. It had left the siding
and had rolled out upon the main line and was
moving faster and faster along the road.
"Oh, we must get out! They are taking us
away."
"No, no," said Kitty. "We must stay here
till the brakeman comes round. I did n't hear
them when they took us on the train."


There is n't any train," said Tommy, looking
up and down the line.
Oh, it's the wind! It's blowing the car away.
We must put on the brakes and stop it."
This was a good plan, but how were they to
carry it out ? The brake-wheel was on top of the
car, and they were inside. Faster and faster rolled
the car. It began to rattle and roar as if dragged
along by a swift engine. In a moment, Tommy
began to cry. Mary tried to look brave, and Kitty
stared hard at the level prairie flying past. It was
of no use. They all broke down together and had
a hearty cry alone in the empty car as it rolled on
and on before the gale.
The station-master's wife rolled up her sleeves
to put the house in order while the children were
safely out of the way. The station-master, feeling
sure the children were safe in the freight-car, sat
in his office nearly all the morning. At last, the
beds were made, the dinner put on the fire, and
the mother wondered how the girls were getting
on in their play-house on the track. She threw
a shawl over her head and went out on the plat-
form. At once, the wind blew the shawl over her
face, and she could not see -.: i.., .,.i:!, she stood.
Turning her back to the wind she began to call the
children. How loudly the wind roared through the
telegraph wires! Perhaps, they could not hear in
all this din. May be, they were inside the car, out
of hearing. She walked on toward the siding.
Not- a: thing to be seen! She wondered if there
had not been a mistake? Perhaps, the car was on
the other side track? No, the rails were unoccu-
pied. as far as she could see in every direction.
What did it mean ? What had happened? She
staggered back into the station and startled her
husband with a cry of despair.
"The car! The children!"
The station-master ran out upon the platform
and looked up and down the line. Not a car in
sight! It had been blown away before the terrible
wind, and was perhaps at this instant rolling
swiftly onward with its precious load to destruc-
tion. What would happen to it? Would it meet a
train or run into a station? Would the children
try to get out, or would they stay in the car till it
was wrecked?
He sprang to the door of the d6pot to telegraph
the terrible news down the line, but just as he
opened the door he saw a faint white cloud on the
western horizon. It was a train. Help was com-
ing. At the same instant, his wife appeared with
new grief and terror in her eyes.
"I cannot get a call in either direction. The
wires are blown down."
This only added to the danger, for there was
now no means of sending word in advance of the







[JULY,


BLOWN AWAY.


runaway car. It must go on to its fate without
help or warning.
"Help is coming, mother. Here's a train bound
east."
Nearer and nearer came the train, and the
father and mother stood watching it as it crept
along the rails. It seemed as if it would never
come. At last, it reached the platform and proved
to be a passenger train bound up the Black River
Road and not intended to go in the direction in
which the car had been blown away. The instant
it stopped, the station-master ran to the engineer
and told his terrible story. The mother, with
quicker wit, found the conductor and demanded
that the engine be taken off and sent after the
children.
The conductor was a man of regular habits, and
such a bold request struck him as something extra-
ordinary. Take the engine off, and leave the
train and passengers waiting at this lonely station?
The idea was preposterous Some of the passen-
gers gathered near and asked what was the matter.
Three children lost, blown away in an empty
car. Some one said, Yes, go at once. We can
wait here till the engine returns." The conductor
said he must telegraph for instructions; but some
one said, "The wires are down," and the people
only cried out the more, "Let the engine go !"
so the mother ran to the tender and began to pull
out the pin, that the engine might start.
Hold on, marm," said a brakeman. "I '11
cast her off. You jump aboard, if you want to go
too. Fire up, Jack, and make her hum."
It was all done in a moment, and away flew the
engine, leaving the conductor and the station-mas-
ter staring in surprise at this singular proceeding.
The station-master did not feel very happy. He
had half intended to go with the engine, but it
would never do to leave his post.
Fire steady, Jack," said the engineer to the
fireman. It 's no use to get excited, for we 're
in for a long race."
"It 's enough to make a fellow excited to see
that woman," said the fireman.
The engineer turned round, and there by his
side stood the mother, her eyes straining ahead
down the line in search of the missing ones.
Oh, sir open the throttle wide. Don't try to
save coal at such a time as this."
"We must keep cool, marm, and go steady, or
we shall run out of coal and water and come to a
stand-still on the line."
The woman said not a word, but nodded mourn-
fully and leaned against the side of the cab for sup-
port, and then the fireman gave her his seat, where
she could look out ahead over the line. How the
engine shook and roared The little finger of the


steam-gauge trembled and rose higher and higher
as the steam pressure increased over the raging fire.
The engine seemed to be eating up the track in
front, and, behind, the rails spun out like shin-
ing ribbons in the sun. The station and train had
already sunk down out of sight, and the grassy
horizon on either side seemed to fly away in a kind
of gigantic waltz. The wind died away to a dead
calm, and in a few moments a little breeze sprang
up and blew in at the front windows.
We are beating the wind," said the engineer.
" If we can keep up this pace we shall soon over-
take them."
How long have they been gone ?" shouted the
fireman above the roar of the engine.
I don't know," screamed the woman, without
taking her eyes from the horizon, where the rails
met the sky. It may have been two hours or
more. They were playing in the empty car."
"How did she get out of the siding?" (He
meant the car.)
It's one of the new switches," said the engineer.
"Cars can easily jump out upon the main line."
Ah! something ahead. Was it the runaway
car ? No, the next station. What a terrible pace!
Twenty miles already !
Oh, don't stop cried the woman, as she
saw the engineer put his hand on the throttle-
valve.
"I must, marm. We are getting out of water,
and perhaps we can learn something of the run-
away."
The sudden arrival of a solitary engine, contain-
ing two men and a woman, startled the station-
master, and he came out to see what it meant.
He seemed to guess at the truth, for he said:
"After the runaway car?"
Yes, yes. There were three children inside."
"Oh, marm, I 'm sorry for ye. It went past
here, going twenty miles an hour. It came down-
grade all the way, but the up-grade begins about
two miles out. I was inside when it passed, and
did n't see it till it had gone past the door."
How long it took to fill the tender! The engine
stood hot and smoking by the water-tank, and the
water came out in a slender stream, while the poor
mother stood looking on, tearful and impatient.
Good-bye! I '11 put up the pipe.-Heaven
help ye --the up-grade --"
The rest was lost, for the engine shot ahead on
and on out over the open prairie. The water-
tank seemed to sink down into the earth, and the
shining rails stretched longer and longer out
behind.
Ah! What was that? A cloud of steam on the
horizon, far ahead. The engineer took out his
time-book and studied it carefully.








RATTLE TE -BANG.


Freight No. 6, bound west, stopping on the
two-mile siding."
How swiftly Freight No. 6 rose above the grass
and grew big along the way! Listen! A whistle.
The engineer whistled in reply and shut off steam.
Their engine quickly slowed down, and they could
see men leaning out from the other engine, as if
to speak to them.
It 's ten minutes back. Running slow on
main-line,-road-clear- "
Thank Heaven !" said the woman. The
engineer said nothing; but at that instant the
engine gave a great leap and shot ahead, at the
rate of fifty miles an hour, up the easy grade.
How long the minutes seemed, and yet each meant
almost a mile!
Ah A speck,-a black dot on the horizon!
The car? Yes. It was the car. It grew bigger and
bigger. Now they could see it plainly. But the
children Where were they? The fireman sprang
out through the forward window and ran along the


engine and down upon the cow-catcher. The mon-
ster began to slacken its terrible pace, and in a mo-
ment it struck the car with a gentle jar and stopped.
The fireman thought himself a lively man, but
the woman was before him and sprang up into the
car.
There they lay, safe and sound, in the corner of
the car,-Mary and Tommy fast asleep, and Kitty
watching over them.
Oh! mother! I knew you would come. Mary
and Tommy cried themselves to sleep, and I-I."
Nobody could say a word. The fireman tried to
rub his eyes, and only marked his face with black
streaks. The mother laughed and cried all at
once. The engineer picked up the little ones and
quietly took them into the cab of the engine.
There, now, my hearties, you have had a risky
ride; but it 's all right. Come We 're more than
thirty miles from home, and it wont do to be late
to dinner. Fire up, Jack."
Aye, aye, sir," said Jack.


RATTLE-TE-BANG.

BY MARY SPARKES WHEELER.

DID you see our new company training to-day?
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Ban g.
" What is the name of your company, pray ?"
'T is Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
There were Peter, and Eddie, and Harry, and Ben,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang,
And we marched up and down like an army of men,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.

We wore gilt paper buttons, and epaulets, too,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
On our hats we had streamers of red, white, and blue,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
Little Peter was captain, he marched in the van,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
And I was the drummer-boy, with a tin pan,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.

Such music you never did hear in your life!
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Ban g ;
For Ben had a bugle, and Harry a fife,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
And as I was beating my little tin drum,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang,
There came a cross man, who looked ugly and grum,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.









EYE BRIGHT. [JULY,


Said he: "What a nuisance this terrible noise!"
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
"Away with your clatter, you rude, naughty boys !
With your Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang '"
Said Ben: He 's mistaken, he never would do
For Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang;
For all are good-natured, and mannerly too,
Who train in our Rattle-te-Bang."

Said Peter: I 'm captain. March on, never mind!
Jolly-curm-Rattle-te-Bang."
Then a gentleman hailed us so cheery and kind,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
" What little musicians are these in the street,"-
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang,-
" With uniforms looking so gay and so neat?"
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.

" Come in, little men and he opened the door,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
" Now Rub-a-dub-dub, give us just one tune more."
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
" And now, little soldiers, 't is my turn to treat,"-
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang-
Then he brought us some apples and candies to eat,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.

" Now was n't that jolly ? said brave little Ben.
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
" 'Pears to me there 's a wonderful difference in men."
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.
Said Harry, whose little eyes sparkled with joy,
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang:
" Surely that man was made of a good-natured boy "
Jolly-cum-Rattle-te-Bang.





EYEBRIGHT.

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


CHAPTER VII.
CAUSEY ISLAND.
WHEN Eyebright awoke next morning, she ran
straight to the window, with the hope that she
might see Causey Island. But the window did not
look toward the sea. Only a barn, a bit of winding
road, and a green hill with a rocky top, were to be
seen; and she dropped the paper shade with a
sense of disappointment.
Dressing herself as fast as she could, she ran
down-stairs. Mrs. Downs, who was frying fish in
the kitchen, pointed with a spoon in answer to her
question, and said:


It's up that way the island is, but 't aint much
to look at. It 's too fur for you to see the house."
Eyebright did n't particularly care about seeing
the house. She was satisfied with seeing the
island. There it lay, long and green, raised high
out of the blue sea like a wall, with the water wash-
ing its stony shore. There seemed to be a good
many trees and bushes on top, and altogether she
thought it a beautiful place, and one where a little
girl might be happy to live.
You aint the folks that 's coming to live up to
the island, be you?" said Mrs. Downs. "Do tell
if you are? We heard there was some one. There


[JULY,


EYEBRIGHT.






EYEBRIGHT.


haint been nobody there for quite a spell back, not
since the Lotts went away last year. Job Lott, he
farmed it for a while; but Miss Lott's father, he
was took sick over to Machias, and they moved up
to look after him, and nobody's been there since,
unless the boys for blue-berries. I guess your Pa
'11 find plenty to do to get things straightened out,
and so will the rest of you."
There is n't any rest' but me."
Do tell now. Haint you any Ma?"
No," said Eyebright," sadly. Mother died
last November."
You poor little thing!" cried kind Mrs.
Downs; "and haint you got no brothers and
sisters either ?"
"No; not any at all."
"Why, you 'll be lonesome, I 'm afraid, up to
the island. You never lived in such a sort of a
place before, did you?"
Oh no; we always lived in Tunxet. But I
don't believe I shall be lonesome. It looks real
pretty from here. Why is it called Cosy Island,
Mrs. Downs?"
"Well, I 'm sure I don't know. Folks always
called it that. I never thought to ask nobody.
Perhaps he '11 know when he comes in."
He" was Mr. Downs, but he knew no more
than his wife about the name of the island. Mr.
Bright, however, was better informed. He told
them that the name in the first place, was Cause-
way," from the natural path, uncovered at each
low tide, which connected it with the shore, and
that this had gradually been changed to "Causey,"
because it was easier to pronounce. Eyebright
was rather disappointed at this explanation.
I thought it was Cosy,' she said, because
the island was cozy."
Mr. Downs gave a great laugh at this, but Papa
patted her head kindly, and said:
We '11 see if we can't make it so, Eyebright."
The tide would not serve for crossing the cause-
way till the afternoon, but Mr. Downs offered to
put them over in his boat without waiting for that.
It was arranged that they should come back for
the night, and Mrs. Downs packed some bread and
cheese and doughnuts in a basket to serve them as
dinner. Eyebright took the basket on her arm,
and ran down to the shore in high spirits. It was
a lovely day. The sea was as blue as the sky, and,
as the boat pushed off, little ripples from the in-
coming tide struck the pebbly beach, with swift
flashes of white, like gleaming teeth, and a gay
little splash, so like a laugh that Eyebright
laughed, too, and showed her teeth.
What are you smiling at ?" asked her father.
"I don't know," she answered, in a tone of
dreamy enjoyment. I like it here, Papa."


Near as the island looked, it took quite a long
time to reach it, though Mr. Downs pulled strongly
and steadily. It was very interesting as each stroke
took them nearer and nearer, and showed more
and more distinctly what their future home was
like. The trees, which at first had seemed a solid
green mass, became distinct shapes of pines, hem-
locks and sumachs. A little farther, and openings
appeared between them, through which open
spaces on top could be seen, bushes, a field, and
yes, actually! a little brown patch, which was a
house. There it was, and Eyebright held Gene-
vieve up that she might see it, too.
"That's our house, my child," she whispered.
"Are n't you glad ? But, my don't it look small ?"
It was small, smaller even than it looked, as
they found, when, after saying good-bye to Mr.
Downs, and getting directions for crossing the
"Causey," they climbed the steep path which led
to the top and came out close to the house. Mr.
Bright gave a low whistle as he looked at it, and
Eyebright opened her eyes wide.
"It's a comfort that we 're not a large family,
is n't it?" she said, quaintly. I 'm almost glad
now that Wealthy did n't come, Papa. Would n't
she say it was little ? Littler than Miss Fitch's
school-house, I do believe."
The front door was fastened only by a large cob-
web, left by some industrious spider of last year,
so it was easy to make their way in. There was
no enftance-hall. The door opened directly into a
square kitchen, from which opened two smaller
rooms. One had shelves round it, and seemed to be
a sort of pantry or. milk-room. As they went into
the other, a trickling sound met their ears, and they
saw a slender stream of clear spring water running
into a stone sink. The sink never seemed to get
any fuller, but the water ran on and on, and there
was no way to stop it, as Eyebright found after a
little examination.
"Is n't that splendid?" she cried. "It just
runs all the time, and we sha'n't have to pump or
i.i, ,il;.,. I do like that so much!" Then, as if
the sound made her thirsty, she held her head
under the spout, and took a good long drink.
Do taste it. It 's the best water that ever
was," she declared.
This spring-water, always at hand, was the only
luxury which the little house afforded. All the
rest was bare and plain as could be. Upstairs
were two small chambers, but they were more like
chicken-coops than bedrooms; for the walls, made
of laths not yet plastered, were full of cracks and
peep-holes, and the staircase which led to them
resembled a ladder more than was desirable. There
was plenty of sunshine everywhere, for there were
no blinds, and the sweet yellow light made a cheer-


605






[JULY,


EYEBRIGHT.


fulness in the place, forlorn as it was. Eyebright
did not think it forlorn. She enjoyed it very much
as though it had been a new doll's-house, and
danced about gleefully, planning where this should
go, and that; how Papa's desk should have a
corner by one window, and her little chair by the
other, and the big mahogany table, which Wealthy
had persuaded them to bring, by the wall. She
showed a good deal of cleverness and sense in their
arrangement, and Papa was well content that
things should be as she liked.
We must have the upstairs rooms plastered, I
suppose," he said. That '11 require some time,
I 'm afraid. Plaster takes so long to dry. We
must arrange to wait at Mr. Downs' for a week or
two, Eyebright."
He sighed as he spoke, and sat down on the
door-step, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his
hands, looking tired and discouraged.
Oh, must we?" cried Eyebright, her face fall-
ing. "That wont be nice a bit. Papa 1. I 've got
an idea. Don't plaster the walls. Let me fix
them. I '11 make them real nice, just as nice as
can be, if you will, and then we sha'n't have to
wait at all."
Why, what can you do with them? How do
you mean ?" demanded her father.
"Oh, Papa, it 's a secret. I 'd rather not tell
you. I 'd rather have it a surprise,-may n't I ?"
Papa demurred, but Eyebright coaxed and
urged, and at last he said:
"Well, I don't care about it one way or the
other. Try your idea if you like, Eyebright. It
will amuse you, perhaps, and anything will do for
the summer. We can plaster in the fall."
I don't believe you 'll want to," remarked Eye-
bright, shaking her head mysteriously. My way
is much prettier than plaster. Just you wait and
see, Papa. I 'm sure you '11 like it."
But Papa seemed down-hearted, and it was not
easy to make him smile. To tell the truth, the
look of the farm was rather discouraging. He
kicked the earth over with his foot, and said the
soil was poor and everything seemed run down.
But Eyebright would not give in to this view at all.
It was a lovely place, she insisted, and she ran
about discovering new beauties and advantages
every moment. Now it was a thicket of wild roses
just budding into leaf. Next a patch of winter-
green, with white starry blossoms and red berries.
Then, peeping over the bank, she called Papa's
attention to a strip of pebbly beach on the side of
the island next the sea.
Here 's where we can.take baths," she said.
"Why, I declare, here 's a path down to it. I
guess the people who used to live here made it;
don't you ? Oh, do come and see the beach, Papa i "


It was a rough little path which led to the beach,
and overgrown with weeds; but they made their
way down without much trouble, and Eyebright
trampled the pebbles under foot with great satis-
faction.
"Is n't it splendid!" she cried. "See that
great stone close to the bank, Papa. We can go
behind there to dress and undress. It 's a real
nice place. I 'm going to call it 'The Dressing-
room.' How wide the sea is on this side! And
what is that long point of land, Papa?"



--
I:-
d i
























For the island lay within a broad curving bay.
One end of the curve projected only a little way,
but toward the north a long cape-like tongue of
land, with a bold, hilly outline, ran out to sea, and
made a striking feature in the landscape.
"Those are the Guinness Hills," said Mr.
Bright. Canada begins just the other side of
them. Do you see those specks of white on the
point? That is Malachi, and in the summer there
is a steamboat once a week from there to Portland.
We can see it pass in clear weather, Mr. Downs
says."
"That will be nice," said Eyebright, comfort-
ably. I 'i glad we 've got a beach of our own,
Papa; are n't you? Now I want to look about
some more."
To the left of the house the ground rose in a low
knoll, whose top was covered with sassafras bushes.
knoll, whose top was covered with sassafras bushes.


606







EYEBRIGHT.


This was the source of the spring whose water ran
into the back kitchen. They came upon it pres-
ently, and could trace the line of spouts, each
made of a small tree-trunk, halved and hollowed
out, which led it from the hill to the house. Follow-
ing these along, Eyebright made the discovery of a
cubby,-a veritable cubby,-left by some child in a
choice and hidden corner formed by three overlap-
ping moose-wood bushes. The furniture, except
for a table made of three shingles, consisted entire-
ly of corrT-cobs; but it was a desirable cubby for
all that, and would be a pleasant out-door parlor
for Genevieve on hot days, Eyebright thought. It
made the island seem much more home-like to
know that other children had lived there and
played plays under the trees; and, cheered by this
idea, she became so merry, that gradually Papa
brightened, too, and began to make plans for his
farming operations with more heart than he had
hitherto shown, deciding where to plant corn and
where potatoes, and where their little vegetable
garden would better be.
I suppose it 's no use to try for fruit," he said;
" the climate is too cold."
Not too cold for blue-berries," Eyebright
replied. "There are lots of them, Mrs. Downs
says, and lots of cranberries, and Mr. Downs'
brother has got an apple-tree."
An apple-tree Dear! dear! Think of get-
ting to a place where people have only one apple-
tree," muttered Mr. Bright.
By the time that they had made the circuit of
the island it was twelve o'clock. This was din-
ner-time, Eyebright declared, and she produced
the lunch-basket. Mrs. Downs' bread had yellow
specks of saleratus in it, and was very different
from Wealthy's delicious loaves; but they were too
hungry to criticise, though Eyebright shook her
head over it, and thought with satisfaction of the
big parcel of yeast-powder which she and Wealthy
had packed up. She knew exactly where it was,
in the corner of a certain yellow box, and that
reminded her to ask Papa when the boxes would
be likely to come.
They are due at this moment," he replied.
"I suppose we may look for them at any time
now. Mr. Downs says there have been head winds
for this week past, and I presume that has kept the
sloop back. Perhaps she may come to-day."
I do hope she will. I want dreadfully to begin
and fix the house. Does n't it seem a great while
since we left Tunxet, Papa ? I can't believe that it
is only three days, so much has happened."
The tide had been going out since eleven
o'clock, and by four, when they were ready to
cross, the causeway was uncovered. It was a wide
pathway of sand, not flat and even all the way, but


high in some places and low in others, with shells
and pebbles shining here and there on its surface.
It was like a beach, except for being narrower, and
having water on both sides of it, instead of on only
one. The sand was still wet enough to make good
hard footing, and Eyebright skipped gayly over it,
declaring that she felt just like the children of
Israel i'n the middle of the Red Sea.
It is so strange to think that, just a little while
ago, this was all water," she said ; "and just a little
while longer, and it will be all water again. It is
the most interesting thing we 've got on our island,
I think, Papa; but it makes me feel a little afraid,
too."
There 's nothing to be afraid of if you 're only
careful not to come here except when the tide is
going out," said her father. Now remember
this, Eyebright,-you must never try to cross when
the tide is rising, even if the sand looks perfectly
dry and the water seems a good way off. The sea
comes in very fast up here on these northern
shores, and if you made a misstep and sprained
your ankle, or had an accident of any kind, you
might be drowned before any one could come to
your help. Remember, my child."
Yes, Papa, I will," said Eyebright, looking
rather nervously at the water. It was slipping
farther away every moment, and seemed the most
harmless thing in the world; but Papa's words
made her feel as if it were a dangerous and deceit-
ful creature which could not be trusted.
It was over a mile from the causeway to the vil-
lage, though at first sight the distance looked
much less. Plodding along the sandy shore was
slow work, so that they did not reach the village till
nearly six. A smell of frying met them as they
entered the door. Mrs. Downs, wishing to do
them honor, was making blue-berry flap-jacks for
tea. Did any of you ever eat blue-berry flap-jacks ?
I imagine not, unless you have summered on the
coast of Maine. They are a kind of greasy pan-
cake, in which blue-berries are stirred till the cakes
are about the color of a blue-bag. They are
served swimming in melted butter and sugar, and
in any other place or air would be certain indiges-
tion, if not sudden death, to any person partaking
of them. But, somehow, in that place and that
air they are not only harmless but seem quite deli-
cious as well. Eyebright thought so. She ate a
great many flap-jacks, thought them extremely
nice, and slept like a top afterward, with never a
bad dream to mar her rest.
A big gray sail at the wharf was the glad sight
that met their eyes when they came down next
morning. The sloop had come in during the
night, with all Mr. Bright's goods on board. He
had hoped that it might be possible to land them






EYEBRIGHT. [JULY,


on the island, but the captain said it was out of the
question; he could n't get near enough, for one
thing, and if he could, he would n't; for how were
heavy things like them to be dumped on a shelvin'
bank like that, he 'd like to know? So the goods
were landed on the dock at Scrapplehead, and
Mr. Downs undertook to find an ox-team to draw
them across the causeway at low tide.
Getting oxen was not an easy matter at that
season of the year, but Mr. Downs, who had taken
a fancy to his lodgers, bestirred himself, and ar last
found some one willing to let his yoke go in con-
sideration of a dollar and a quarter. So, at exact
low tide, the great cart, piled with boxes and bar-
rels, creaked slowly across the sandy bar, Mr.
Downs driving, and Papa walking behind with
Eyebright, who was more than ever reminded of
the crossing of the Red Sea. It took much lugging
and straining and "gee"-ing and "haw"-ing to
get the load up the steep bank on the other side ;
but all arrived safely at last in front of the house.
There the cart was unloaded as fast as possible, a
few things set in-doors, the rest left outside, and,
getting into the cart, they all drove back across
the causeway. It was harder work than when they
came, for the tide was rising, and the sand had
grown soft and yielding. One great swirling wave
ran up and curled round the oxen's hoofs just as
they reached firm ground, but, though Eyebright
gave a little scream, and Mr. Downs frowned and
said, "By gosh !" no harm was done, and the
momentary fright only made pleasanter their drive
to Scrapplehead, which they reached just as the
sun sank for the night into a great soft-looking bed
of purple and crimson clouds.
This was their last night with the Downs family.
Early next morning they started for the island
in Mr. Downs' boat, taking with them their
last bundles, and bags, and Mrs. Downs, who
had kindly offered to give them a day's help.
Very helpful it proved, for there was everything
to do.
Mr. Bright, like all men, wanted to do everything
at once, and Eyebright was too inexperienced to
know what should dome first and what second; so
Mrs. Downs' good sense and advice were of great
value. Under her directions the bedrooms were
swept and cleaned, and the bedsteads put together,
first of all, for, as she said, You've got to sleep,
anyhow, and if you don't do it comfortable you '11
be sick, and that would never do." Next, while
Eyebright swept the kitchen, she and Mr. Bright
got the stove into place, set the pipe, and lighted a
fire, after which Mrs. Downs scoured the pantry
shelves, and unpacked china and tins.
"There," she said, surveying the result with
great satisfaction. That begins to look folksy.


What 's sewed up in that old comforter ? A rock-
ing-cheer. Let's have it out!"
So the rocking-chair was unsewed, and Papa's
desk and the big table were unpacked; and as
each familiar article came to view, Eyebright felt as
though an old friend were restored to her. She
patted the arm of her own little chair, and put the
plaided cover from the old sitting-room over the
table, with a sense of cheer and comfort. She and
Papa and Mrs. Downs dined on bread and cheese
in the intervals of work, and by five o'clock they
were very fairly in order,,and Mrs. Downs made
ready to go back to her own family. Eyebright
walked with her as far as the causeway, and parted
with a hearty kiss. Mrs. Downs seemed like a
second Wealthy, almost, she had been so kind and
thoughtful all that busy day.
Papa was sitting in the rocking-chair, by the
stove, when she went back. She stopped to kiss
him as she passed, and proceeded to set the table
and get supper. Mrs. Downs had started them
with a supply of bread, butter and milk; but the
tea and sugar came out of one of the Tunxet boxes,
and so did the tumbler of currant-jam, opened in
honor of the occasion. Wealthy had made it, and
it seemed to taste of the pleasant old times. Eye-
bright did not care to think much about Wealthy
just then. The tide was drawing over the cause-
way, cutting them off from everybody else in the
world. She felt lonely and the least bit afraid, in
spite of Papa's being there; and only keeping very
busy till bed-time saved her from homesickness,
which she felt would be a bad beginning, indeed,
for that first evening in the new home.
Next morning was fair. All the days had been
good so far, which was fortunate, for a half-settled
house is a dismal place enough in rainy weather.
Eyebright opened her eyes, and after one bewil-
dered stare began to laugh, for through the slats
of her coop," she could distinctly see Papa, half-
dressed, and brushing his hair in his, on the other
side of the entry. This was not to be endured, so
after breakfast, while he went to the village for
some provisions, she set to work with great energy
on her plan for reforming the bedroom walls.
This was to cover them with picture papers."
There was an abundance of material for the pur-
pose at hand, for her mother had taken one of
the best weekly illustrated papers for several
years; and as she saved all the back numbers,
a large pile had collected, which Wealthy had
carefully packed. These Eyebright sorted over,
setting aside all the pictures of cows, and states-
men, and steamboats, and railroad trains for
Papa's room, and keeping the kittens, and dogs,
and boys, and girls, and babies for her own. She
fastened the papers to the laths with tacks, and the







EYEBRIGHT


ceilings were so low that she was able to do all but
the very top row herself. That she was forced to
leave for Papa. So hard did she work that the
whole of his room was done before he appeared,
climbing the path, with a big bundle under one
arm, a basket in his hand, and looking very warm
and tired.
It's a hard pull up the shore," he said, wiping
his forehead. I shall have to get a boat whether
I can afford it or not, I 'm afraid. It'll be worse
when hot weather comes, and there '11 always be


be late to breakfast, because he should want to lie
in bed and study his picture-, .1l:.;, which joke
delighted Eyebright highly.
It was several days before she had time to attend
to her own papering, for there was a great deal
else to do,-boxes to unpack, places to settle, and
outside work to begin. Mr. Bright hired a man
for one week to plow and plant and split wood.
After that, he thought he could keep things in
running order by himself. He had been brought
up on a farm, but years of disuse had made him


I


\7f"<
L ,


-2
-Ic~-?


,14



Ile.


MY WHAT A BIG DOLL (SEE PAGE 611.)
the need of going over to the village for something stiff and awkward at such labor, and he found the
or other." work harder than he had expected. Eyebright
"A boat," cried Eyebright, clapping her hands, was glad to see the big wood-pile grow. It had a
" Oh, Papa, that would be splendid. I can learn cozy look to her, and gradually the house was
to row it my own self, can't I ? It 'll be as nice as beginning to look cozy too. The kitchen, with
a carriage of our own,-nicer, for we sha'n't have its strip of carpet and easy-chairs and desk, made
to catch the horse, or feed him either. Now, quite a comfortable sitting-room. Eyebright kept
Papa, let me carry the basket, and oh, do come a glass of wild-roses or buttercups or white daisies
quick. I want to show you how beautifully I have always on the table. She set up a garden of her
done your bedroom." own, too, after a while, and raised some balsams
Papa liked the bedroom very much. He was and, "Johnny-jump-ups" from seeds which Mr.
glad to be saved the expense and delay of plaster- Downs gave her, and some golden-brown coreop-
ing, only he said he was afraid he should always sis. As for the housekeeping, it fared better than
VOL. VI.-41.


C' '' 4:i






EYEBRIGHT.


could have been expected with only a little girl of
thirteen to look after things. Once a week, a
woman came from the village for the day (and
half a dollar), did the washing and part of the
ironing, roasted a joint of meat if there was one
to roast, made a batch of pies, perhaps, or a pan
of gingerbread, and scoured the pots and pans and
the kitchen floor. This lightened the work for the
next seven days, and left Eyebright only vegetables
and little things to cook, and the ordinary clean-
ing, bed-making, and dusting to do, which she
managed very well on the whole, though some-
times she got extremely tired, and wished for
Wealthy's strong hands to help her. Milk and
butter came from Mr. Downs' every other day,
and Papa was very good and considerate about his
food, and quite contented with a dinner of potatoes
or mush if nothing better was to be had, so the
little housekeeper did not have any heavy burden
on her mind as far as he was concerned.
The boat proved a great comfort when it came,
which was not till more than a month after their
settlement on Causey Island. Eyebright took
regular rowing-lessons and practiced diligently,
so that after a few weeks she became really expert,
and Papa could trust her to go alone as far as the
village, when the weather was fair and the sea
smooth. These rows to and fro were the greatest
treats and refreshments after house-work. Some-
times it happened that her errands kept her till
sunset, and she floated home on the incoming
tide, just dipping the oars gently in now and then,
and carried along by the current and a singing"
wind, which followed close behind and pushed the
boat on its way. These were Eyebright's real
"play" times. She kept a story going about a
princess and a boat, and some water-fairies and a
water-prince, and whenever the chance came for a
solitary row, she "acted" it by herself in the old
,pleasant way, always wishing that Bessie or some
other girl could be along to play it with her.
Another girl,-some one to share work and fun,
waking and sleeping, with her,-that was all which
was wanted, she thought, to make Causey Island
as pleasant as Tunxet.
But in spite of hard days and rainy days, and
days when she felt like idling and could n't, occa-
sional discomforts, the need of doing without
things, and a lonely fit now and then, that summer
was on the whole a happy one to Eyebright.
Islands have their drawbacks, but they have their
advantages as well. Going about in a boat is one
of these. For, only think," she told her father
one morning, "if we had gone anywhere else,-
that was n't an island, I mean,-we never should
have had a boat,. and I should n't know how to
row. We should just be walking about on the


road like anybody else. I should n't like that a
bit now, should you, Papa ?"

CHAPTER VIII.
SHUT UP IN THE OVEN.
You will probably think that it was a dish of
pork-and-beans, or an Indian pudding of the good,
old-fashioned kind which was shut up in the Oven.
Not at all. You are quite mistaken. The thing
shut up in the Oven was Eyebright herself! And
the Oven was quite different to anything you are
thinking of,-cold, not hot; wet, not dry; with a
door made of green sea-water instead of black iron.
This sounds like a conundrum, and as that is
hardly fair, I will proceed to unriddle it at once
and tell you all about it.
The Oven was a sort of cave or grotto in the
cliffs, four miles from Scrapplehead, but rather
less than three from the causeway. Its real name
was "The Devil's Oven." Country-people, and
Maine country-people above all others, are very
fond of calling all sorts of strange and striking
places after the devil. If Eyebright had ever
heard the whole name, perhaps she might not
have ventured to go there alone as she did, in
which case I should have no adventure to write
about. But people usually spoke of it for short-
ness' sake as The Oven," and she had no idea
that Satan had anything to do with the place, nor
for that matter, have I.
It was from Mrs. Downs that she first heard
about the Oven. Mrs. Downs had been there
once, years before. It was a natteral curiosity "
she said, with all sorts of strange sea-creatures
growing in pools, and the rocks were red and
quite beautiful. It was n't a dangerous place,
either, and here Mr. Downs confirmed her. You
could n't get in after half-tide, but anybody could
stay in for a week in ordinary weather, and not be
drowned. There were plenty of places a-top of
the cave where you could sit and keep dry even at
high water, though it would be "sort of poky,"
too. Eyebright's imagination was fired by this
description, and she besought Papa to take her
there at once. He promised that he would "some
day," but the day seemed long in coming, as holi-
days always do to busy people; and June passed
and July, and still the Oven was unvisited, though
Eyebright did not forget her wish to go.
August came at last,-the delicious north-of-
Maine August, with hot brilliant noons, and cool
balmy nights, so different from the murky, steamy
August of everywhere else,-and was half over, when
one afternoon Papa came in with a piece of news.
What should you say, Eyebright, if I should.
go off for the whole day to-morrow ?" he asked.


JULY,







EYEBRIGHT.


Why, Papa Bright, what do you mean ? You
can't! There is n't anywhere to go to."
"There 's Malachi."
Oh, Papa, not in our little boat! "
"No, in a schooner belonging to Mr. Downs'
brother. It has just put in with a load of lumber,
and the captain has offered me a passage if I like
to go. He expects to get back to-morrow evening
about nine o'clock. Should you be lonesome, do
you think, Eyebright, if I went ?"
Not a bit," cried Eyebright, delighted at the
idea of Papa's having a sail. I '1 do something
or other that is pleasant. Perhaps I'll go and stay
all day with Mrs. Downs. Anyhow, I '11 not be
lonely. I 'm glad the captain asked you to go,
Papa. It '[l be nice, I think."
But next morning, when she had given Papa
his early breakfast, watched him across the cause-
way, and seen the sails of the schooner diminish
into two white specks in the distance, she was not
sure that it was nice. She sang at her dish-wash-
ing and clattered her cups and spoons, to make as
much noise as possible; but for all she could do,
the house felt silent and empty, and she missed
Papa very much. Her plan had been to go to
the village as soon as her work was done and
make Mrs. Downs a visit, but later another idea
popped into her mind. She would go to the Oven
instead.
"I know about where it is," she thought. If I
keep close to the shore I can't miss it, anyway.
Mr. Downs said it was n't more than two miles
and three-quarters from the causeway. Two miles
and three-quarters is n't avery long walk. It wont
be half-tide till after ten. I can get there by a
little after nine if I start at once. That'll give me
an hour to see the cave, and when I come back
I'11 go down to the village and stay to dinner with
Mrs. Downs. I '11 take some bread and butter,
though, because one does get so hungry up here
if you take the least little walk. What a good
idea it is to do this! I am glad Papa went to
Malachi, after all."
Her preparations were soon made, and in ten
minutes she was speeding across the causeway,
which was safe walking still, though the tide had
turned, her pocket full of bread and butter, and
Genevieve in her arms. She had hesitated whether
or not to take Genevieve, but it seemed too sad to
leave her all alone on the island, so it ended in her
going too, in her best bonnet and a little blanket
shawl. The morning was most beautiful, dewy and
fresh, and the path along the shore was scented
with freshly cut hay from inland fields, and with
spicy bayberry and sweet fern. A belated wild-
rose shone here and there in the hedges, pale and
pink. Tangles of curly- green-brown fringe lay


over the clustering Virgin's Bower. The blue
lapping waves, as they rose and fell, were full of
sea-weeds of a lovely red-brown tint, and a frolic-
some wind played over the surface of the sea and
seemed to be whispering something funny to it,
for the water trembled in the sun and dimpled as
if with sudden laughter.
The way, as a general thing, lay close by the
shore, winding over the tops of low cliffs covered
with dry yellow grasses. Now and then it dipped
down to strips of shingle beach, or skirted little
coves with boundaries of bushes and brambles edg-
ing the sand. Miles are not easy to reckon when
people are following the ins and outs of an irreg-
ular coast. Half a dozen times Eyebright clam-
bered to the water's edge and peeped round the
shoulder of a great rock, thinking that she must
have got to the cave at last. Yet nothing met her
eyes but more rocks, and surf, and fissures brown
with rust and barnacles. At last, she came on a
group of children, playing in the sand, and stopped
to ask the way of them.
There were two thin, brown little girls in pink-
and-gray gingham frocks, and pink-and-gray striped
stockings appearing over the tops of high, laced
boots. They were exactly the same size, and
made Eyebright think of grasshoppers, they were
so wiry and active, and sprang about so nimbly.
Then there were three rosy, hearty-looking coun-
try children, and a pair of little boys, with sharp,
delicately cut faces, who seemed to be brothers, for
they looked like each other and quite unlike the
rest. All seven were digging holes in the sand
with sticks and shovels, and were as much absorbed
in their work as a party of diligent beavers. When
Eyebright appeared, with Genevieve in her arms,
they stopped digging and looked at her curiously.
"Do you know how far the Oven is from here?"
asked Eyebright.
No," and What 's the Oven ?" answered the
children, and one of the gray-and-pink little girls
added: "My, what a big doll!" Eyebright
scarcely heeded these answers, she was so delighted
to see some children after her long fast from child-
hood.
What are you making? she asked.
A fort," replied one of the boys.
Now, Fweddy, you said you'd call it a castle,"
put in one of the girls.
Well, castles are just the same things as forts.
My mother said so."
Is that your mother sitting there ?" asked
Eyebright, catching a glimpse of a woman and a
baby under a tree not far off.
Oh, dear, no That's Mrs. Waurigan. She's
Jenny's mother, you know, and 'Mandy's and
Peter Paul Rubens's. She 's not our mother at







EYEBRIGHT.


all. My mother's name is Mrs. Brown, and my
papa is Dr. Azariah P. Brown.. We live in New
York City. Did you ever see New York City?"
No, never. I wish I had," said Eyebright.
It 's a real nice place," went on the pink-and-
gray midge. You 'd better make haste and come
and see it quick, 'cause it 's de-te-rotting every
day; my papa said so. Don't you think Dr.
Azariah P. Brown is a beau-tiful name? I do.
When I 'm allied and have a little boy, I 'm
going to name him Dr. Azariah P. Brown, because
it's the beautifulest name in the world."
She 's gagedd already," said the other little
sister. She 's gagedd to Willy Prentiss. And
she 's got a 'gagement wing; only, she turns the
stone round inside, so 's to make people believe
it 's a plain gold wing, and she 's mallied already.
Is n't that cheating? It's just as bad as telling a
weal story."
No, it is n't either cried the other, twirling
a small gilt ring round on a brown finger, and
revealing a gem made, apparently, of second-rate
sealing-wax, and about the color of a lobster's claw.
"No, it is n't cheating, not one bit; 'cause some-
times the wing gets turned round all by itself, and
then people can see that it is n't plain gold. And
Nelly 's gagedd, too, just as much as I am, only
she has n't got any wing, because Harry Sin-- "
Now, Lotty !" screamed Nelly, flinging herself
upon her, "you mus' n't tell the name."
So your name is Lotty, is it?." said Eyebright,
who had abandoned Genevieve to the embraces of
Jenny, and was digging in the sand with the rest.
"No, it is n't. My really name is Charlotte P.,
only Mamma calls me Lotty. I don't like it much.
It's such a short name, just Lotty. Look here;
you did n't ever see me till to-day, so it can't make
much difference to you, so wont you please call
me Charlotte P. ? I 'd like it so much if you
would."
Eyebright hastened to assure Charlotte P. of her
willingness to grant this slight favor.
Are these little boys your brothers, Lot--
Charlotte P., I mean?" she asked.
Oh no!" cried Nelly. Our bother is lots
and lots bigger than they are. That 's Sinclair
and Fweddy. They aint no 'lation at all, 'cept that
they live next door."
Their mamma's a widow," interposed Charlotte
P. She plays on the piano, and a real handsome
gentleman comes to see her 'most every day.
That's what being a widow means."
"Look here what I 've found!" shouted Sin-
clair, who had gone farther down the beach. I
guess it 's a shrimp. And if I had a match I 'd
make a fire and cook it, for I read in a book once
that shrimps are delicious."


Let me see him Let me see him!" clamored
the little ones. Then, in a tone of disgust: "Oh
my! aint he horrid-looking and little. He is n't
any bigger than the head of a pin."
That's not true," asserted Sinclair; he's big-
ger than the head of my mamma's shawl-pin, and
that 's ever so big."
I don't believe he's good a bit," declared Lotty.
Then you sha'n't have any of him when he 's
cooked," said Sinclair. I 've got a jelly-fish, too.
He's in a hole with a little water in it, but he can't
get out. I mean to eat him, too. Are jelly-fish
good?" to Eyebright.
"I don't believe they are," she replied. "I
never heard of anybody's eating them."
I like fishes," went on Sinclair. "My mamma
says she guesses I 've got a taste for nat-nat-ural
history. When I grow up I mean to read all the
books about animals."
And what do you like ?" asked Eyebright of
the other little boy, who had not spoken yet, and
whose fair baby face had an odd, almost satirical,
expression.
"Fried hominy," was the unexpected reply,
uttered in a sharp, distinct voice. The children
shouted and Eyebright laughed, but Freddy only
smiled faintly in a condescending way. And now
Eyebright remembered that she was on her road
to the cave,-a fact quite forgotten for a moment,-
and she jumped up and said she must go.
Perhaps Mrs. Waurigan will know where.the
Oven is," she added.
I guess so," replied Lotty; "because she does
know about a great many, many things. Good-
bye !-do come again to-morrow, and bring Dolly,
wont you?" and she gave Genevieve one kiss and
Eyebright another. "You 're pretty big to play
with dolls, I think. But then"-meditatively-
she 's a pretty big doll, too."
Mrs. Waurigan was knitting a blue-yarn stock-
ing. She could tell Eyebright nothing about the
Oven.
"I know it's not a great way off," she said.
" But I 've never been there. It can't be over a
mile, if it 's so much as that; that I 'm sure of.
Have you walked up all the way from Scrapplehead?
I want to know ? It's a long way for you to come."
Not so far as New York City," said Eyebright,
laughing. "Those little girls tell me they come
from there."
"Yes; the twins and Sinclair and Freddy all
come from New York. Their mother, Miss' Brown,
who is a real nice lady, was up here last year. She
took a desprit fancy to the place, and when the
children had scarlet fever in the spring, and Lotty
was so sick that the doctor did n't think she 'd ever
get over it, she just packed their trunk and sent


1JuL.Y,







DISCUSSING THE MUZZLE QUESTION.


them right off here, just as soon as they was fit to
travel. She said all she asked was that I 'd feed
'em and do for 'em just as I do for my own; and
you would n't believe how much they 've improved
since they came. They look peaked enough still,
but, for all that, nobody 'd think that they were
the same children."
And did the little boys come with them?"
"Yes. They 're neighbors, Miss' Brown wrote,
and their mother wanted to go to the Springs, or
somewhere, so she asked might n't they come, too.
At first, I thought I could n't hardly manage with
so many, but they have n't been a bit of trouble.
Jest set them anywhere down on the shore,
and they '11 dig all day and be as happy as clams.
The only bad things is boots. Miss' Brown, she
sent seven pairs apiece in the trunk, and, you
would hardly believe it, they 're on the sixth pair
already. Rocks is dreadful hard on leather, and so
is sand. But I guess their Ma wont care so's they
go back strong and healthy."
I 'm sure she wont," said Eyebright. "Now
I must be going, or I sha'n't be able to get into
the cave when I find it."
You 'd better come in and get a bite of some-
thing to eat as you come back," said Mrs. Wauri-


gan. That 's the house just across that pasture.
'T aint but a step out of your way."
Oh, thank you. How kind you are!" replied
Eyebright. Then she said good-bye and hurried
on, thinking to herself,--"Maine is full of good
people, I do believe. I wish Wealthy could come
up here and see how nice they are."
It seemed more than a mile to the Oven, but
she made the distance longer than it was by con-
tinually going down to the water's edge to make
sure that she was not passing the cave without
knowing it. It was almost by accident that in the
end she lighted upon it. Strolling a little out of
her way to pick a particularly blue harebell which
had caught her eye, she suddenly found herself on
the edge of a hollow chasm, and, peeping over,
perceived that it must be the place she was in
search of. Scrambling down from her perch,
which was about half-way up one side, she found
herself in a deep recess, overhung by a large rock,
which formed a low arch-way across-its front. The
floor ran back for a long distance, rising gradually,
in irregular terraces, till it met the roof; and here
and there along these terraces were basin-like holes
full of gleaming water, which must be the pools
Mrs. Downs had talked about.


(To be continued.)


DISCUSSING THE MUZZLE QUESTION.


1879.]


613







"HAY-FOOT! STRAW-FOOT!



A WONDERFUL CHILD.

BY HATTIE S. RUSSELL


I 'VE read somewhere about a girl
Whose cheeks are rosy red,
While golden tresses, curl on curl,
Bedeck her pretty head.
Her eyes, I 'm told, are bright and blue,
Her smile is kind and sweet;
The errands she is asked to do
Are done with willing feet.

'T is said that when she goes to school
She 's just the sweetest lass !
So quick to mind the slightest rule,
And prompt in every class.


To girls and boys she 's never rude
When all are at their play;
Her "conduct"-be it understood-
Is "perfect" every day.

Where lives this child, I cannot say,
Nor who her parents are,
Although for many a weary day
I 've sought her near and far.
If you should ever see her smile,
As o'er the world you rove,
Just hold her little hand a while,
And give her my best love.


"HAY-FOOT! STRAW-FOOT!"


MANY boys and girls may have heard these
words applied in a derisive way to raw recruits who
were making a beginning in their military educa-
tion by learning to march; but very few young
people-or old ones, either-know how the terms
originated.
During the war of 1812, there was a great deal
of drilling and training among the militia-men all
over the country, especially in the larger cities and
towns, where the principal recruiting stations were
situated. In New York City, much of the drilling
of newly enlisted men was done in what is now
City Hall Park, in front of a tavern which stood
where the Sun newspaper building is located.
Many of these would-be soldiers were from the
country, and these, of course, knew nothing at all
about marching in military fashion. They could
walk far enough, some of them, and work as hard
and bear as much fatigue as any soldier in a reg-
ular army; but they walked as they pleased, and
had no ideas about such things as "keeping step."
It is even said that there were fellows among them
who did not know their right foot from their left,
and who were therefore continually getting them-
selves and their companions into disorder by mix-
ing up their legs,-that is, moving out their right
leg when the officer who was drilling them called
out Left," and the other leg when he called out
"Right." If they could have put both legs for-
ward at once, it is probable that they would some-
times have done so.


To make these men understand exactly which
leg was meant when the officer gave his orders, a
curious plan was devised. Around the right leg of
each man, just below the knee, was tied a wisp of
hay, while a wisp of straw was tied around his left
leg. Now, these country fellows knew very well
the difference between hay and straw, and so, when
they were ranged in line and the officer gave the
word to march, and called out, Hay-foot! straw-
foot hay-foot! straw-foot," each one of them
understood exactly which was the foot he must
put forward.
It sometimes happened, however, that a man
would be so busy observing his companions,-and
perhaps making fun, at the same time, of their
attempts to walk like soldiers,-that he would
forget his own business, and put forward his
"straw-foot," when "hay-foot" was called for.
It must have been very funny to see these raw
recruits-here a country ostler in high boots and
striped shirt; there a farmer in his shirt-sleeves
and broad straw hat; then, perhaps, a village doc-
tor or school-master, with his high beaver hat and
his spectacles, with a tall boy near by in cap and
short jacket-all marching side by side, with
hands down by their sides, thumbs turned out,
eyes fixed on the officer as he stepped backward
before them, and all keeping time to the monoto-
nous call of "Hay-foot! straw-foot! hay-foot!
straw-foot! "
The regular soldiers who may have been drill-


[JULY,





"HAY-FOOT! STRAW-FOOT!"


ing at the same time probably smiled, if they did any of them chanced to come to town to see their
not dare to laugh, at these queer-looking men, sons or brothers drill, doubtless thought the affair







liv F_-
.,. .. ; .. .= ,'- -== :-._-0


with their hay and straw bound legs; but the a fine military display, and that Jeremiah or Caleb
mothers and fathers and sisters of the recruits, if would be a general yet, if the war lasted long enough.







GLORIES.


I' 7

--

I C


1, -



W ,

\ r *s-'i'
\./


"GLORIES."

BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG.


JULIA was set to put Baby's shoes and stockings
on; but he was a big baby and she a little girl; he
pulled away from her and ran, laughing gleefully,
out on the porch. There his laughing changed to
screaming exclamations of delight.
See de glories Dudy, see de glories !"
He cackled and clapped his hands, and jumped
about in a way best known to babies,-a prudent
way, which leaves one foot on the floor while the
other is in the air.
Dudy, come !" he kept on calling.
No wonder Baby laughed and clapped his
hands, and capered about! The whole side of the
porch was covered with morning-glories,-blue,
white, pink, purple. There seemed to be thou-


-,, ,













THE FAIRIES THEMSELVES.
sands of the bright things, and how wide-awake
they looked! He gathered two armfuls of them at


once, and sprinkled the floor with the brightness.
Then he made a sudden discovery.
Itty pairsols itty pairsols!" he screamed in
ecstasy.
Yes," said sister Julia, joining in the play.
"Here's a blue parasol for dolly Belle; and a


I)


SOLDIERS.
white one for Gertrude Elsie; and a pretty pink
one for Mittie Mattie."
When they were tired playing parasols, which
was in about a quarter of a minute, Julia made a
discovery: the morning-glory blossoms were elfin
horns,-bugles and trumpets and cornets of a fairy
musical band, to be used at a grand Fourth of July
celebration.
Then she pinched out and bit out little pieces
for doors, and stood the blossoms up for fairy tents
and pavilions, and showed Baby the chimney-holes


[JULY,


'I,







GLORIES.


617


where the smoke came out when the elves brewed -a brigade of valiant soldiers in gorgeous regi-
nectar, and boiled busy-bee tongues and made mental?


DECORATING BABY'S HANDS.


mosquito mince-meat. What a beautiful encamp-
ment the bright blossoms did make, to be sure,
all arranged in stars and circles and heart-shapes !
But pretty soon, Baby blew a great breath, and
then Julia said a terrible hurricane had swept
away the tents.
The next thing was to stick little green twigs
through the chimney-holes of the overturned tents,
and lo there were the fairies themselves, in fash-
ionable dresses,-blue, with white overskirt, and
pink with purple ruffles. When the skirts began
to lose their starch and to droop, fresh "glories"
were put on the heads of twigs from the big apple-
tree, and who was there to dispute Miss Julia's
words when she announced the wonderful result,





-~ 4
1
A- ,





.I .,
1-\ P '* ..? -'



.. .-XF. { ,: _., .. .


After that, fairy-robes and soldier-hats were
devoted to decorative art. Baby's face and hands
and feet were painted. Then Miriam's United
States History was brought out; and the faces of
all the presidents were colored purple, excepting
those that were colored green, with the cups of the
" glories; the White House was made blue; In-
dependence Hall was about to have a red coat
when the breakfast bell rang.
As soon as he heard that joyful tinkle, "Baby"
dropped the glories and the book, and cried
that he must have his shoes and stockings put on
for "bekfus," and then sister Julia suddenly re-










.- .-- ,'"
x"- ...







PAINTING THE PRESIDENTS.

membered that she had forgotten all about such
things as shoes and stockings. The glories,"
the tents, the soldiers, the fairies, the bugles and
the trumpets had entirely covered them up in
her little mind.







618 .


THE mice had met in council;
They all looked haggard and worn,
For the state of affairs was too terrible
To be any longer borne.
Not a family out of mourning-
There was crape on every hat.
They were desperate-something must be done,
And done at once, to the cat.

An elderly member rose and said:
"It might prove a possible thing
To set the trap which they set for us-
That one with the awful spring !"
The suggestion was applauded
Loudly, by one and all,
Till somebody squeaked: "That trap would be
About ninety-five times too small!"

Then a medical mouse suggested-
A little under his breath-
They should confiscate the very first mouse
That died a natural death,
And he 'd undertake to poison the cat,
If they 'd let him prepare that mouse.
'"There's not been a natural death," they shrieked,
"Since the cat came into the house!"

The smallest mouse in the council
Arose with a solemn air,
And, by way of increasing his stature,
Rubbed up his whiskers and hair.
He waited until there was silence
All along the pantry shelf,
And then he said with dignity,
"I will catch the cat myself! "

"When next I hear her coming,
Instead of running away
I shall turn and face her boldly,
And pretend to be at play;
She will not see her danger,
Poor creature I suppose ;
But as she stoops to catch me,
I shall catch her, by the nose "

The mice began to look hopeful,
Yes, even the old ones, when
A gray-haired sage said slowly,
"And what will you do with her then?"
The champion, disconcerted,
Replied with dignity, "Well,
I think if you '11 all excuse .me,
'T would be wiser not to tell!


"We all have our inspirations-"
This produced a general smirk-
"But we are not all at liberty
To explain just how they '11 work.
I ask you then, to trust me;
You need have no farther fears-
Consider our enemy done for! "
The council gave three cheers.

"I do believe she's coming!"
Said a small mouse, nervously.
"Run, if you like," said the champion,
But I shall wait and see "
And sure enough she was coming-
The mice all scampered away
Except the noble champion,
Who had made up his mind to stay.

The mice had faith, of course they had-
They were all of them noble souls,
But a sort of general feeling
Kept them safely in their holes,
Until some time in the evening;
Then the boldest ventured out,
And saw, happily in the distance,
The cat prance gayly about!

There was dreadful consternation,
Till some one at last said, Oh,
He 's not had time to do it,
Let us not prejudge him so "
" I believe in him, of course I do,"
Said the nervous mouse with a sigh,
" But the cat looks uncommonly happy,
And I wish I did know why! "

The cat, I regret to mention,
Still prances about that house,
And no message, letter or telegram
Has come from the champion mouse.
The mice are a little discouraged;
The demand for crape goes on;
They feel they 'd be happier if they knew
Where the champion mouse has gone.

This story has a moral-
It is veiy short you see;
So no one, of course, will skip it,
For fear of offending me.
It is well to be courageous,
And valiant, and all that,
But-if you are mice-you 'd better think twice,
Before you catch the cat.


ULY,


CATCHING THE CAT.



CATCHING THE CAT.

BY MARGARET VANDEGRIFT.







619


HOW TO MAKE A HAMMOCK.



HOW TO MAKE A HAMMOCK.

BY CHARLES L. NORTON.


'T IS N'T so very hard," said Netty, "if you
do only two or three rows a day and have Tommy
or somebody to help wind the twine and pull the
S knots tight. It hurts
your fingers after a
.while. Tommy says girls'
I fingers are no account,
anyway; but Mamma
tells him he'll think dif-
ferently in a few years.
We made all of it be-
tween us last winter.
You see, I and Tommy
and Mamma went down
FIG. x. to Ouissnocket in the
summer and staid in Mrs. Clegg's house. Mr. Clegg,
he 's a sort of fisherman-farmer, 'specially fisher-
man, and has a sloop, and boats, and nets, andlots
of things, and Bill Clegg helps him. He 's been
whaling, Bill has, and he 's real nice. One day,
Tommy and I found him mending a net, and it
was fun, and he showed us the stitch. Tommy
was awful stupid about it, but I learned right away.
Then Bill said that if Tommy would make two
needles and two mesh-sticks, so we could each
have one, he would show us how to make a ham-
mock all our own selves, if we wanted to.
So I drew a pattern of the needle and Tommy
took the measure of a mesh-stick. Bill said we
must have hard wood for the needles, so we hunted
about and found a thin piece that Tommy said
would do. Tommy 's a first-rate whittler, and he
made two needles.'
A l It wasn't very easy,
but I helped.
"The mesh-sticks
N were not so hard,
because they were
soft. I mean, be-
cause we made them
from soft wood, al-
though hard wood
might be better.
My own mesh-stick
FIG. 2. makes a mesh a lit-
tle less than two inches square. That's a good
size for a hammock. The beveled edge helps to
keep the meshes even.
Pretty soon there came a north-easter, when
we could n't play out-doors, and Mr. Clegg


and Bill were at work in the shop where they
mend their boats and nets and things, and
Bill said it was a good time. So he gave us what
he called a 'hank'-I should have called it a
skein-of nice white twine, and Tommy and I
wound it off into two balls, one for each of us.
Then we had to thread our needles. We fastened
the end of the twine round the 'tine' and passed
it down one side of the needle, through the notch
of the heel' up the other
side, round the tine again,
and so on until the needle
was nearly as full as it
S could hold."
Wait a minute, Net-
ty," said I. Please show
me just how to do it all.
I would like ever so much
to know."
So I will. I'll make
you a doll's hammock,"
said Netty, and then you
will know just how to make
a big one."
Netty forthwith threaded
her needle, fastened the
end of the twine to a hook
in the wall which she and
Tommy used for the pur-
pose (anything firm will
FIG. 3- do), and tied a loop in it.
Then she laid the twine over the mesh-stick,
passed the needle up through the loop (Fig. 2) and
pulled it tight, so that the end of the loop rested
on the bevel of the stick (Fig. 3).
Now look," she said. I hold the stick in my
left hand, with my thumb on the twine and the
needle in my right hand. With a quick motion I
throw a bightt' of the twine so that it lies across
my left wrist and over the loop (Fig. 4). Then I
push the point of the needle up between the loop
and the twine to the left of the loop (through the
opening as shown in Fig. 4), pull needle and all
through, and bring the knot into shape. Now
I 'haul taut' with my right hand (in the direction
of the dotted lines), and the knot is tied."
As Netty pulled, loop B tightened around the
two parts of loop A, and loop A, in turn, tightened
around the part that passes through it. There was
danger that loop B would slip down beyond loop A,


*See tail-piece,- "Tools and Materials." Eight to ten inches is a convenient length for the needle. The mesh-stick is about
the same length, and it will make a mesh just twice its own size. That is, a stick one inch square will make a two-inch mesh.







HOW TO MAKE A HAMMOCK.


in which case the
S' mesh would not be
S firm. My teacher
said that practice
made it easy to
avoid this.
Now," contin-
ued Netty, I slip
out the mesh-stick,
and take the same
stitch through the
second loop; and
so on and on, until
I have made twice
as many meshes
as my hammock is
to be wide. Five
will be enough for
this little ham-
mock, I think.-
There Now I 've
made ten meshes,
FIG. 4. not counting the
first loop." And she held out the work to me.
Netty had by this time made a string of loops
or meshes, which looked like this (Fig. 6).
Then she took the end from the hook, untied
the first loop, because it was not the right size, and
spread the meshes open on the table (Fig. 7).
Next she passed a cord through the upper row,
tied the ends together, hung it over the hook, and
proceeded to finish the rest of the
rows. The stitch was just the same as
before. She did with mesh E (Fig. 7)
just what she
did with the
originalloop, FrIG. 8.
S but she did not slip the
mesh off the stick as at
first. Instead, she went
on knotting through D,
C, and so on, until there
were five new meshes on
B the stick, their knots
lying side by side along
A the bevel.
Sl In working. a large
hammock, she told me
it is easiest to make ten
or a dozen meshes before
slipping them off from
the stick. When one
row was finished, she
FIG. 5. slipped them off, turned
the work over, and went back, knotting the new
meshes through those last made, until she had the
five rows completed, twenty-five meshes in all.


"There," said she, that finishes the hammock
part. Now I 'll show you about the 'guys,'-the
long strings, you know, at the ends. They
're just nothing at all but big meshes.
The easiest way to make them even is to
wind the twine a certain number of times
around the mesh-stick instead of only
once, as in the small meshes, and then
knot through the next mesh as usual."
When Netty had finished the row of
guys, she cut the twine about an inch from
the last knot, gathered the guys together,
hung them over the hook, and removed
the cord that passed through the first row
of meshes.
"Now," she said, taking the end that
had been on the hook, and the end of the
twine that was on the needle, I '11 show
you how to tie two ends together when
you break your twine or begin with a fresh
needleful: Form the horizontal loop, with
the end from the hook in your left hand,
place the other end behind the loop, hold
it there with thumb and finger, then pass
the needle over and under, as in Fig. 8.
Then pull them tight and cut off the ends.
Mamma says this is nothing but a weaver's
knot, but Bill calls it a becket-hitch,'
and Tommy and I like that best."
Netty finished the other
row of guys, and then spread
the whole affair out on the
table (Fig. 9). FG. 6.
S Of course, it was a simple matter to gather
the ends together, and there was the little
hammock all complete.
S "How large do you make a big ham-
mock?" I asked; how many meshes, I mean?"
"Sixty wide and sixty long for a two-inch
mesh," answered Netty. If you have smaller
meshes you must make more of them, or you '11
find your hammock too narrow."


FIG. 7.
And how long ought the guys to be ?"
Oh, as long as you like. Half a yard, or a yard,
more or less."
"What are those rings or eyelets [Fig. 1o] in
the ends of the large hammock ?"
Those are not rings; they 're thimbles," said


[JULY,







HOW TO MAKE A HAMMOCK.


Netty, correcting me, and bringing a pair like
those among the tools and materials."
"You can get them of any size in brass or gal-


FIG. 9.
vanized iron, or you can have brass ones nickel-
plated if you like. It is not necessary to use them;
but if you do, you must serve the eyes of the
hammock. To do this, stretch the guys of each
end to their full length, lay them alongside each
other evenly, and gather together tightly. Then
wind them with the cord as firmly and evenly as
possible, until you have wound rather more than
the circumference of the thimble; double the rope
thus made, slip in the thimble, and wind the whole
together a little below the thimble,-far enough to
be quite secure,-cut your twine, and tie-in the
ends. Two persons are needed to do this nicely."
How many hanks does it take to make a large
hammock ?" I asked.
Somewhere between two and three," said
Netty. "You must get three. Tommy and I
went into a store, the other day, where they had
twine of all kinds, and beautiful needles ready-
made, and thimbles, and everything except mesh-
sticks. Of course you can use any kind of cord


you like, but white soft-laid cotton is about the
best. Fifteen or twenty-thread seine-twine is a
good size for general use, we 've found."
Now tell me how much the materials
cost, and how long it takes to make a full-
sized hammock."
Netty had to consult Mamma before she
Could be certain. Between them they made
out that the hanks cost 25 to 35 cents
each, according to weight, the needles, 15
cents, and galvanized thimbles to cents a
pair. Brass thimbles and steel needles
cost a little more. As to the
time, they were not altogether
sure, but thought that half an
hour a day would finish a
hammock in about a month.
"The twine will be sure to
chafe your fingers if you don't
wear gloves, or manage to
take a turn round the needle
when you pull the knots tight, and
you would do well to make a little
hammock for practice before you
begin the big one."
These were Netty's farewell words. .
The next day I went down town and I'
bought my materials, and I finished
a beautiful hammock in just about
one month. I am bound to say that
it is rather hard work for most girls, I i
but it is the very thing for boys, and i
they can make all sorts of fishing-nets
with the same stitch, only changing
the size of the mesh-stick, according to FIG.
the size of the fish they wish to catch.
Since my talk with Miss Netty, my friend Tom
has privately assured me that she did not do much
of the really hard work; "but," said he, mag-
nanimously, "she did all that could be expected
of a girl, and helped lots, and read to me while I
was at work, so I had a good time, anyhow."


TOOLS AND MATERIALS.


621








622


FOURTH OF JULY

SECOND.
Tempo di Mardia. Con Spi'ito.
A A


E. [JULY,


MARCH,

By WM. K. BASSFORD. Op. 78. No. 3.
A -. .


Hsf Sf fC o




Hail Columbia.
.............


pOt -ba ppp



- Ott. 1ba8sa............................................ :


OUR MUSIC PAGI






879.] OUR MUSIC PAGE. 623


FOR FOUR LITTLE HANDS.

PRIMO.
Tempo di Marcia. Con Spirito. -A
. . . ... : -
n --,> - >,-- = ,: 0 1 P- --- .-_

-=__-- -_- A 1__ FE -
_f __
do A A


Hail Columbia.


-pp pp -
p _ PW __ ^..... =-

=^g g=i= xE -zz_^^g=^^==B





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


HOW HAROLD CAME TO TELL HIMSELF A STORY.

HAROLD did not know how to read, so, you may be sure he was
not thinking about what was in the book before him. After he had
eaten his supper, he went upstairs to ask his papa to tell him a story.
Papa was in the parlor talking to a gentleman, so that, when Harold ran
into the library and shut the door behind him, he found nobody there.
Now, the door was big and heavy, and Harold was too little to turn the
great handle and open it again. He tugged for a while, and then he
stood still to think, a few tears in his eyes. His first thought was:
"I need not cry. Mamma says it is of no use to do that. If I cry,
Papa will not tell me a story, and I want one about two frogs."
He looked through the key-hole, but, saw nothing; so he put his
mouth to it and called: "Hallo! Papa !" Then he called, "Mamma!"
and Katy!" But nobody heard him.
Then he climbed up to the table, and turned over the leaves of all
the books he could reach. "What funny books!" he said. "Not any
pictures in them! What can they tell about ? If I could read, may be
they would tell me why Papa does not come upstairs!"
Harold's eyes were all wet again, and he had to wipe them. But
soon a happy thought came to him, and he said:
"I will tell myself a story! Papa told it to me one night, and I will
tell it to myself again:
"A boy was so big that he could lift a little boy upon his back. But
he was cross. He had to carry a heavy load of beets to market in a
wheel-barrow. But he was so cross that he could not make the wheel-
barrow go straight, then it ran against stones and the beets fell out.
Carts came along, and a pig ran in where the beets were and ate some.
That made the big boy mad. When the wheel of the barrow broke, he
was so cross that he could not mend it, and when he asked a man to
do it, the man said : 'No, I will not do anything at all for a cross
boy!' So he had to do it himself. Then he ran against a man and
hurt him, and when he got to market he tipped over a basket of eggs.
"And the market-man said that the big boy was too cross to work,
and that he could not pay him any more money.
So the big boy had to go away.
But a little boy came and helped the man pick up the eggs, and took
the beets out of the wheel-barrow and put them in a big box, and he


[JUL,






1879.] FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK. 625










NY ',
1 : -' '- ."";^ .* -






































was not a bit cross. So the market-man said: Little boy, you are of
much more use than a big, cross boy, and you can work for me, and take
home lots of pennies to your mamma, and -
But, just as Harold got to that part of the story, the door opened, and
there was his papa! Papa was so glad to find his little boy happy, and
not fretting, that he told him a story about ten frogs instead of two.
VOL. VI.-42.







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


...1

IL







S:__ K N -1 HE -i U LN1 T.

THERE 'S no time for long introductory remarks
in July, my dears; and the reason why is all out-
of-doors, on hill and field and vale and river," as
somebody says. Well, my advice to you is: Keep
there as much as ever you can (out-of-doors, I
mean), and drink in the sweet air and bright sun-
shine to your hearts' content,--and their content,
for that matter-for I believe that air and sunshine
like to be breathed and enjoyed, as the Heavenly
Father intends them to be.
Now, my stanch little Americans, unfurl your
flags on the Fourth, and be as patriotic at heart as
ever you can be,-but don't burn your little hands
and faces; and, above all, don't forget that true
patriots always honor the bravery of the foes they
have beaten.
Now, my beloved, you shall hear something
about
A CITY CARRIED ON CAMEL-BACK.
THE whole city of Cairo in Egypt was carried
to its place on the backs of camels. Not in one
parcel, of course, but bit by bit. Every piece of
stone for building, and all the wood and other
things for the same purpose, all the fuel, all the
furniture, all the food--all Cairo, in fact, came in
damel-loads !
This was in the year 969. Now there is a steam
railroad running into the city from the great sea-
port of Alexandria; and horses also are in use,
though only for pleasure carriages, I 'm told.

THE ROBIN THAT RANG A BELL.
Elmira, N. Y.
DitAR JACK: I a remii. 1 .. ,. 1 ;.. .pril, about the
Campanero or Bell-bird, o' I.: I- R .. : i
Our little boy, Johnny, .,.-. I.. I-. ay to set a tea
bell on top of the wood-house, fixing it with a spiral spring, and
attaching it to a slender wooden frame of his own make.
To one end i'.. ,.:.. .... i : 1 a cord, long enough to reach
the round. t .I .1. .- ., : I ... buld ring the bell, and so call
the family to .... i .,'. .. i -. before he tired of doing this.


One bright summer morning, when Grandpa went out to the barn
,,i : 1 I 1.e was much surprised to hear Johnny's bell ringing.
i .. .,...:'.i about the yard, he saw a big Robin Red-Breast
r-.ll.. ., rhe cord. I suppose Robin thought it would be just
the thing to weave into the new nest he was building. When first
the bell rang, Robin dropped the cord, peeped about a moment as if
astonished, and then, not to be discouraged, tried a second time.
A,.en rh-- I-li rang, and again Robin dropped the cord; but, still
U.. ,i. .. r .,ve up, he tried once more to fly :, the string.
'l il. I. I. ... louder than ever this time, so 1 I . up trying
Grandpa then cut some yam into bits, and put them near the bell-
cord, and, though no one saw Robin do it, there 's no doubt that he
took them, for in a few days they were gone, and the nest in the
maple beside the gate was ready for his little wife.-Yours truly,
V. E. D.
A WASP-NEST ON FIRE.
A WASP-NEST set itself afire, one summer, in
Caraccas, and, as the nest was built in a closet
under the roof of a house, it almost set the house
afire, also! This was due, I 'm told, partly to the
heat of the weather, and partly to the yet greater
heat produced by the materials of which the paper-
like walls of the nest were made.
So, tale ---...-,-. all wise boys and girls, and
don't let -,:I I'.I,,Il nests under the roofs of your
homes and play-houses; don't keep your homes and
play-houses in Caraccas-whatever or wherever that
may be-during very warm weather; and "don't
let fiery tempers make themselves at home beneath
the roof of your hearts "-as Deacon Green might
say, if he were by, only I feel sure that he is away
somewhere in the shade trying to keep cool and
quiet.
Now let's turn to a little scrap pleasant to think
ofjust now :
WINTER IN MINNESOTA.
"THIRTY degrees below zero The windows
are curtained with rime. Icicles hang on the
beards of the men at work out-of-d... ... .,r,. horses
wear shining coats of frosted silver i.,.ii.

KUCHOO!
THERE is a plant-a distant cousin of mine,
related to all of us Arums-that grows in the
southern parts of England and almost every-
where in India. The people are very fond of it,-
as food, I mean. The roots are crushed and
steeped, to get from them a kind of powder which
the English country-folk call Portland sago," and
the Indian natives name kuchoo," as if it made
them sneeze with delight just to think about it.

BONNETS WITH LIGHTNING-CONDUCTORS.
I AM asked to inform you, my hearers, that
soon after the invention of the lightning-rod,
the ladies of Paris, France, .thought it fashion-
able, as well as safe, to wear a bonnet orna-
mented at the very top with a thread of bright
metal. To this was attached a little silver chain
which reached down the back over the dress and
touched the ground. It was believed that the
lightning would be caught by the metallic thread,
and would then be so polite as to run along the
chain down into the earth without harming the
wearer of the bonnet.
At about the same time, too, umbrellas made of
silk were fitted with wires and chains in a similar


[JULY,


626







JACK-IN-TIHE-PU IPIT.


fashion,-so that the holders might enjoy cozy
walks during thunder-storms, I suppose, without
getting scared.
I do wonder if the lightning really cared a bit for
all their patent arrangements.

A QUEER PLAYMATE.
Carson City, Nevada.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: My sisters have gone to ..;.....
and I feel real lonesome. I have been trying to tame .1
cat. She will eat out of my hand, but will not come into the house;
and when I lay a piece of meat on the ground, she picks it up with
her paw and puts it into her mouth.-Yours truly, ANNIE LEAH.

FAITHFUL KAMICHI.
YOUR Jack feels proud to introduce to you the
Chaja or Faithful Kamichi. Here is his portrait,
my youngsters.
The Kamichi has a fine crest of feathers ar-
ranged in a circle at the back of his head, and
he stands up straight and sturdy, as though he
had work to do and meant to do it.
He is very easily tamed and taught, and proves
himself a good friend to man by being a wise and


FAITHFUL KAMICHI.

faithful servant. His home is chiefly in Brazil and
Paraguay, where men trust him with the entire
charge of their flocks of poultry throughout the
day. He leads the fowls to the fields and feeding-
places in the early morning, and at night brings
them back in safety to their roosts. Whenever


one of the many birds of prey, or perhaps
some stealthy four-footed creature, comes near
his flock, he instantly spreads out his broad wings,
which are armed with strong, sharp spurs, and
at once sends the enemy flying. There is n't the
,hint of skulking anywhere in him, and he never
lords it over the poultry, or other birds weaker
than himself, but is always the bold, brave, devoted
champion of those who are given to him to be cared
for and defended.

LUKEWARM BOILING WATER.
Now, my bonny cooks! answer me this: Did
you know that there are parts of the world where
boiling water is not "boiling-hot"?
Well, there are such places, as some men of
science once found out, to their sorrow.
They were roving among the Chilian Cordilleras,
-which are lofty mountains in the west of South
America,-looking for specimens botanical, geo-
logical, ornithological, icthyological, entomological,
zoological, andso on. One day, after a long morn-
ing tramp, they felt hungrier than usual, and set
one of their number to boil some
fresh vegetables for dinner while
-they finished exploring the neigh-
borhood.
The wise man built a fire, and
-hung the pot of water and vege-
tables over the blaze. In a sur-
prisingly short time, the water
began to bubble and hiss, and a
few minutes later the man called
his companions, who ran up, de-
S lighted that dinner was ready so
S" soon, and quickly fell to eating.
All at once, the hungry men
*; turned frowning on their cook,
,. asking him:
S"What in the world made you
call us before the things were
done?"
S"Well," said he, amazed and
r --ashamed, "I am sure they boiled
I'I long enough. Suppose you try
to boil them yourselves ?"
Then they put back the un-
Stouched vegetables into the pot,
hung it over the fire, and, stand-
Sing in a ring, watched it anxiously.
As soon as the water had boiled
T '. -7 I a good while for the second time,
they took out the things and
again began to eat them.
But still the vegetables were not
half cooked!
At last one of these wise men
called to mind that water needs
less heat to make it boil on a high
mountain, where the air is very light or rare, than
when the boiling takes place near the level of the
sea So that, although there was heat enough to
boil the water, there was not enough to cook the
vegetables in the water, and the wise men had to
fry them in a pan.








THE LETTER-BOX.


THE LETTER-BOX.


SEVERAL readers of the illustrated article about the Kitchen-garden
in the April number, ask where they can obtain the book containing
the music-notes, songs and instructions, for carrying on a school ot
the plan described. Miss Huntington herself publishes the book
which is finely printed, illustrated and bound. Her address is is
St. Mark's Place, New York.

Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
SDEAR ST. Nicot.AS : Here is an example in algebra which I can
not work, although, of course, I can see what the answer is. Wil
.you please get -nne of nitr rntiers to work it and let me knov
through the ,. .... truly, H. C. -HOWLAND.

PROBLEM.
Given x2 + y = 7, and y2 + x = i ;-to find the value
of x + y.

SKIPPio.-The letters S. P. Q. R. on the standards ol ,I.
ancient Romans were the initials of the words Senatus Pr ..
lus-Que Romanus," which mean "The Senate and the Pe ,- i
of Rome."

Milwaukee, W.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I should like you ... ...
which puzzles me. Why does the ticking I- ..
sound? Sometimes it is quite loud, and then it is so h
scarcely can hear it at all. 1 am quite sure it has nothing t J
with my hearing, for I amn not deaf in the least.--Your
devoted reader, OLLIE GODFREY.
Some of the teeth of the wheels are not so well oiled .-_I
as others and so they make louder ticks; and some teeth i--
are just a little larger or smaller than others, or are differ-
ently shaped, and this, too, would make the sounds vary. l
If the adjustment of the wheels upon their axles hap-
pens to bring them the least bit out of line, the noises
will be unequal. When everything but the clock is I
quiet, even the faint ticks seem loud, and so it may be
at times that surrounding noises which we do not sepa-
rate from the general hum, or to which we are so used
that we do not mark them, drown some part of the sound ., '
of the ticks.

Pittsfield, Mai
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I went up to Potter's Mountain i.-
summer; from it was a view I shall never forget. The i.,i
stretched below us in great waves, and far down in a beat.. .1
valley lay the lakes Onota and Pontuonc, looking like dianr I-
isles upon an emerald sea. The little country towns scatt .
over the mountains, with their white church spires standing -.
against the dark foliage, gave the scene a picturesque ap .
ance, and the setting sun burst from behind the mountain-i..,
flooding the earth and sky with flashes of red and purple ,.
golden light which slowly died away.
M. A. K. (12 year i

A LIVE DOLL.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: There is many a little girl who 1..
doll with such a natural head and face, such beautiful real. ..
such complete suits of clothes, and such perfect little gi.
shoes and bonnets, that it seems as if but one thing is wanting to
make thatdoll perfect, and that is that it should be alive. How
delighted most girls would be if their dolls were alive, and could wal
about and talk! I mean, of course, those dolls which look like res
little girls or little ladies.
Well, I know of such a doll as this. She is not nearly so large a
many dolls; her head is no bigger than a man's fist, and she is bu
a little taller than the seat of a dining-room chair; one of her tin
hands will go through a large finger-ring, and she has dear little fet
about two inches long. And yet she is alive, and can walk about an
talk and play! It need not be supposed she is a little baby, for she i
fifteen years old, and has long hair, which is done up beautifully, jut
like a grown lady's hair, and she will never be any bigger. Sh
weighs only five pounds, and that is only about half as heavy as mos
very young babies. I saw a little girl, thirteen months old, pick u:


,this tiny creature and hold her in her lap. So it is easy to imagine
g how small and light she is.
11 This live doll is a little Mexican dwarf, named Lucia Zarate. She
, has been on exhibition in New York and other cities, and some of the
3 boys and girls who read this may have seen her. She is different
from most dwarfs, not only in being a great deal smaller, but in being
so well formed. Her head is no larger in proportion than the heads
of ordinary people, or of dolls, whereas a dwarf generally has a large
-head on a small body. A little fellow, called General Mite, who is
Shown with Lucia, has a head much too big for his body. He is larger,
S every way, than she is, and he looks like a child dressed up as a man.
But Lucia is a perfect little woman, or, rather, a perfect little live
doll. She has a Mexican countenance, with dark complexion and






6'.
S'l '


II : l, I ."
II, I II
I, 1.
a: ,, ,,
,, ,,, l ,, ,,' '" ,,'",,


THE LIVE DOLL.
large nose, and her black eyes look out from under heavy eyelids,
but she is very bright and lively, and has a very high temper, which
she sometimes shows. She has very handsome clothes, with long
trains to some of her dresses, and she walks about as if she knows she
is better dressed than most of the ladies who are looking at her.
When this little creature was born, she was only nine inches long,
and she used to sleep in a large overshoe! Think of such a tiny
human being as that, which could kick and cry, just like other
babies! I wonder how many of the ST. NICHOLAS girls would
like to have such a live doll, who would walk and talk and eat and drink
and go to sleep just like anybody else, and yet could sleep in a doll's
bed and wear doll-clothes, and be carried about and held in the lap
as easily as a common doll, that is not alive ? P. F.


UDLY,








THE LETTER-BOX.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Once upon a time there was a little girl
named Mary who had a kitten and a dog. One day another little
girl came to see her. After a while they commenced to play tea-
party," and they wanted the kitten to play with them; but she could
not be found, so they got along without her. After a while, however,
the little girl went to go home, but when she lifted her muff out
jumped the kitten.
The next day Mary went up to her room to get her hat. She
could not find the band-box; but pretty soon it came walking along
the shelf, and from it came spits and growls. When it got near Mary,
it suddenly jumped on to the floor, and away ran the cat chased by
the dog, for both of these animals had been in the band-box. They
both ran helter-skelter into and around the yard at full speed. Sud-
denly the cat disappeared in a large pail of water, and as soon as the
dog reached the pail in he went, too, and then the water appeared
like the sea in a storm. Mary, when she saw this, ran down the path
and soon had the dripping culprits before the fire.-Yours truly,
A. G.

To W. I. S. AND OTHERS: In the number of ST. NICHOLAS for
July, 1875, you will find full instructions, with diagrams, telling
" How to make a boat."

E. F. T. -Since the year 186o, Nice has been a part of France;
but it used to be in Italy, and the name "Lombardy" is commonly
given-though not with strict correctness-to all that part of Italy
which lies northward of Tuscany. At the present day, however,
there is no tract of country in Italy which bears officially the name
of Lombardy."

Ottumwa, Iowa.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in the south-eastern part of Iowa, on
the Des Moines River. One night in March our brick school-house
was burned. I went to see it smouldering away in its ashes, all but
the outer walls. After a few weeks they came and took the walls down
and piled up the brick.
We go to school in the upper part of the Town Hall now, with
the Fire Department on the story below us making a good deal of
racket. So we feel safe, as the noise proves they are awake.
From your constant reader, F. G. J.

Utrecht, Holland.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Although I am a little Dutch airl, I take
ST. NICHOLAS and love it. I came across a pretty verse by Coppee,
called "The Magyar." Imade a I,. i..,I. i. : .... n of it; per-
haps the American boys and girls .1 1.1 .:-. I you, hoping
you will be kind enough to print it in the "Letter-Box."-I am, your
loving reader, CLARA CATHARINE MAY Twiss. (Aged i2.)

Istwan Benko wa. i T-T....;:.--.. magnate from the Steppes. He
wore on his thumb a. ...; .. .I. was set a turquoise that grew pale
whenever the Turkish foe approached. Istwan was immensely rich,
and spent his money madly. Once he gave a country ball, to which
he invited all his poor neighbors. He appeared dressed in a beautiful
mantle, embroidered with gold sequins, rubies, emeralds, and dia-
monds of great value. They were loosely fastened, so that they
might fall off as he danced. Of course, people -'r- rv." enoFn"h to
pick them up; all but one old man who satapart 'I. I. "- i i.
wrapt in a woolen mantle with wide sleeves. His nose was hooked,
his long moustaches were of a silvery white. He had not picked up
anything. Hev iT!,
Count Istwan -,. i.... up to him and said: Father, I would
like to give you something; but see, I have not a single sequin or
jewel left! Why would you not pick up anything?"
The old man answered: I could not without stooping !"

ALL communications of any kind from the young readers of ST.
NICHOLAS should be accompanied by the full names, ages and
addresses of the writers, which will be held strictly private, if the
writers so desire.

How many of the readers of the "Letter-Box" agree with "An
Illinois Boy" in his notions of celebrating the Fourth of July" with
"more spirit"?
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I think it is just shameful that the boys of
America are getting so unpatriotic that they cannot celebrate the
Fourth with more spirit.
When I woke up on the morning of the Fourth, last year, I ex-
pected to hear a great racket; but, instead of that, I did n't hear
more than two or three fire-crackers.
My brother was up firing his cannon, so I got up and commenced
to fire mine (for I try to celebrate). After breakfast my brother and
I went up to grandpapa's orchard, where we found our two friends
with their two brass cannons. Then commenced some lively firing.
We fired all morning and half the afternoon. After supper we fired


our cannons, and looked at the two or three solitary rockets that went
up around the neighborhood.
Now, boys of the ST. NICHOLAS, and of Illinois especially, I write
to you and ask you to remember this next Fourth that it is the day
that made our glorious country (for glorious it is, in spite of all the
newspapers say) free and independent, and, as it comes but once a
year, I think it is shameful that you cannot celebrate it with spirit.
AN ILLINOIS BoY.

WHO can tell J. E. B. the name of the queer bird he writes about ?
It appears to be a polite creature, and to give good advice.
Knoxville, Tenn.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I would like to know the name of a bird
that I hi- heir l i in in a song. It is about the size of a sparrow
and of : .. .. of them say, Mr. Persevere," and some
say only Persevere." It came where father and I were at work. It
stayed a little while and then went off.-Your constant reader,
J. E. B.

CAN any reader of the Letter-Box answer the following ?
Chicago, Ills.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you one year and three
months. Will you please tell me when England was discovered ? I
am 8 years old. ERNEsT W. WOODWARD.

Clinton, Iowa.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would tell you about my "chil-
dren" which I take care of. First, I have four little chickens, then
I have blackbirds, robins, brown thrush, and sparrows, besides a
canary, and my dolls, of which I have twelve.
I have fixed a bath-tub for the birds to bathe in, and the blackbirds
always take their turn first. Sometimes a robin gets in first, and if a
blackbird sees him he scolds him till he flies away.
The song-thrush is a very beautiful singer, but is very shy, and we
have never seen it bathe, but have seen it drink. We enjoy the thrush
very much more than the blackbird, for, though the blackbird is very
handsome, it is so bold, and it has no music in its voice.-Your little
friend, ODA HIwE (age, ir years).
Huntington, Mass.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl thathas to do dishes every
'" md I make a great fuss about it sometimes, too. I hope
I, .I- 'i. girl that reads this will not make such a fuss about it. I
have a little tea-set, which consists of six cups and saucers, a tea-pot,
a milk-cup, a sugar-bowl, two drinking-cups, one tumbler, one knife
and fork, and seven spoons. And, beside these, I have some tin
dishes. And I have a little cupboard to !-e-r th-m in. I am seven
years old, and I printed this with my pen .1 i i i
SDAISY P. TRUDGE.

Rye, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would tell you about my pets.
Well, I have two nanny goats, and a little dog that came to us about
three weeks ago. We tried to find its owner but could not; so we
kept him. The goats are very useful to me. (Mother does not think
them useful. They eat the clothes on the lines, and horn up the rose-
bushes.) I harness them and do all the errands. Every one is afraid
of them, so I let them run about the place without a fear of their being
stolen, but they are very gentle to me, for they know what's good
for themselves. I am your devoted reader, DAISY B.

H. H. A.-Many good answers have come to H. H. A.'s question
printed in the May "Letter-Box." They all seem to agree that the
warmth of the climate of France is due, at least in part, to the influ-
ence of the warm ocean current called the "Gulf Stream," and to
winds that blow from the hot lands of Africa; and that the coldness
of the climate about Newfoundland is due in great measure to chilling
winds from the snowy wastes of northern British America, and to an
Arctic current that sweeps past the mouth of the St. Lawrence.
Following is a list of the names of those who sent answers. The
names occur without regard to merit or the order in which the letters
were received :
Charles L. S.-Jenny A. Seaman-A. P. C.-Maggie E. B.-
Clara S.-Primm D. Noel-Maud Harvey-Julia Lathers-Horatio
A. Warren-N. H. W.--Rosa-B. S. A.-May Walsh-WVm. H.
Barnes-Bertie E. S.-Alice M. Downing-Cyrus F. Judson-G. G.
Burnett-Lucille Andrews-M.. B.-Pansy Murray-Arthur E.-
Willie I. Pert-Mamie H.-Mamie B. French-Almira Briggs-
Bessy Norton-Archie Freeman-L. G. Townsend-Arthur W. D.
-Jennie Kimball-Charles Campbell-N. K.-Charles S. Emerson
-Anita L. Smith-A. F. D.-Louis V. Fuller-Katie Sampson-
Maude Sanderson-Eddie Churchman and others-Mary F. Car-
others-S. M. D.-J. W. W,-Geo. M. Reese-Bertha Paul-Grace
Hall-M. V. Wood-Clara Louise Smithe-S. M. C.-S. C. De
Lamater-Medoren Green-Fred N. Kress-John S. Clute.








YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS' DEPARTMENT. [JULY,






YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS' DEPARTMENT.


ABOUT MACARONI.
THE picture which I have drawn shows Yankee Doodle at about
the moment when, riding on a pony,
He stuck a feather in his hat,
And called it Macaroni."
It is about this expression, Macaroni," I wish to write what I
have found out by asking questions and reading in books.
In Enland, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, most of the
dandified things of that time-such as table-forks, etc.-came frlmi
Italy, and were called "macaroni," which is Italian, derived frorn a
Greek word meaning "very dainty."
About the time of Oliver Cromwell, appeared a verse which some
have thought was meant to make fun of him. The verse runs:
Yankee Doodle came to town,
Upon a Kentish pony;
He stuck a feather in his hat,
And called it macaroni."
But History says Cromwell came from Huntingdon; and I think
he was not the kind of man to wear feathers and brag of them. He
was stout, red-faced, and rather rough; not slim and foppish.



























To give them this title, 1' sure can't be wrong,
Sa t
...




















gaiespirit.- So. it seems, they could fight well, besides dressing well
sort of fop was 'macaroni.' He was distinguished chiefly by the


"YANKEE DOODLE."

In Sheridan's play, The School for Scandal," are thee lines:
"Sure, never were seen two such beautiful ponies;
Other horiaes are clowns, but these, macaronis.
'To give them this title, I 'm sure can't be wrong,
Their legs are so sllirs, and their tails are so long."
WVashington Irving tells us that, in the "War of the Revolution,
same Maryland r'.mlirrnts who wore very gay uniforms,, were
known as '" The .- I '... ; and he adds that "they showed their
game spirit." So. it seems, they could fight well, besides dressing well.
Another author says: "A hundred years ago, the slang of a certain
sort of fop was macaroni.' He was distinguished chiefly by the
strange way in which he dressed bis head; and he wore feathers in
his ha."v
This is all I have been able to find out about the word "Macaroni,"
,.. U. -i. ... 'Yankee Doodle"; and it seems to mean something
I . I. i dainty or finical, and to have very little to do with
the food called "macaroni," although that also comes from Italy.
J. v. L.

THE FAIRIES' HAMMERS.
ONCE there were two little girls, and their names were Edith and
Isabel Walters. Edith was seven years old, and Isabel was five. They
were very good in some things, and very bad in others, but the worst


one of all was screaming at the table. Their Papa invited a gen-
tleman to supper one evening. So he came, of course, as -"r"i -
does when they are inviec i i .Iked to I' .. .
until supper was ready. ..I i .' .1 ...I r know what Papa
and Mr. Fi.. .i ... I' i'. ..i although they sat on their Papa's
lap. The i, -. I i ey went to supper. Before their
Papa had s ; :
Papa give me some reed-birds!"
"Wait a minute, children," said he. Then he turned to Mr.
Fields, and said: Mr. Fields, can I give you some reed-birds? "
"Yes, if you please."
Oh, Mamma I do wish you would help me to some pears," said
Edith.
"But, Papa, I want some reed-birds. I wish you would give me
some," cried Isabel.
Do wait until I help your Mamma."
Mr. Fields," i.: '. ....... -"hush Edith-Mr. Fields, will you,
-Isabel, do keep 11 -Mr. Fields, will you have some
pears ?"
"Yes, if you please."
me some milk; Mamma, give me some milk."
S 1 said Papa, or I will send you away from the table."
Mr. Fields, do you- Anna, please take those
children away from the table. We cannot talk, for
i. ...-1 .. . noise."
S .. oh, Mamma! Please don't! Wewill
promise not to make a noise."
"Mr. Fields, do you remember the day that we
--:;- -;1 1i 0t-. 1ill, and we saw an old man ?"
Is i l-i i i ,"he said. Hewas-- "
Isabel here interrupted him by throwing her spoon
across the table.

Outside of the window-sill stood Queen Mab and her
fairies.
Did you ever see such children ?" she said to one
of the fairies by her side. "Let me see if I cannot
think c' ;.- .. to cure them." So she turned to
Pinky ... Pinky, can you think of anything
to care them?"
"I have just thought of something, and I think
that it will cure them."
What is it ?"
"Why, to hammer them every time they are rude
will cure them."
Yes, I think so, too. Well, who will do it? "
"I will," said Pinky.
"And I will," said Blue.
-- -- r "All right," said the queen.
k,- I So they flew in at the window, and Queen Mab and
S her other fairies flew away to fairy-land.
Mr. Walters," began Mr. Fields.
"Papa, give me some reed-birds," said Edith.
"No more."
Papa, my head hurts awfully."
"Mr. Walters, Mr. Cornell said-- "
"Oth Papa, it is raining," said Isabel, as she
threw a piece of bread at her Mamma. Oh, my
head "
"Mr. Walters,'" again began Mr. Fields, "Mr.
Cornell said the other day that you once had a dog. Had you?"
"Yes, I had; but he ran away."
"Did he?"
Mamma, give me some more pears!" cried Isabel.
"Yes."
"Oh, my-my head hurts me so "
"I am sorry,' said Mamma.
Mamma, can I have some coffee ? cried Edith.
"Yes, dear," said Mamma.
"Oh, my, but my head hurts said Edith, as she came crying up
to her Mamma.
I am very sorry that your head hurts so much, dear."
So the fairies kept on hammering for two or three days. At last,
Edith and Isabel found out that, every time they were rude, they
were hammered on te he ad; so, after a while, they stopped being
so rude, and their heads did not hurt so much.
So, one night, Pinky and Blue brought a beautiful wax-doll, and it
had a little note for Edith and Isabel, which had in it:
This doll is for Edith and Isabel,-a present from Queen Mab."
So Edith and Isabel had a very nice time, indeed, with the doll.
And in the note there was:
"If you again behave as you did at the table, the doll will dis-
appear, and you will never see it again."
So Edith and Isabel thought that it would be just as well not to
behave that way. E. S.








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.

[Will every answerer of puzzles please mention, when sending the solutions, what will be his or her age next birthday?
The information will be kept strictly private.]

EASY NUMERICAL ENIGMA. EASY SQUARE-WORD.
MY 1 5, ,, is an insect. My 8, 4, 6, is a domestic animal. My i. A EUROPEAN city. 2. r .... 3. Belonging
9, 7, k, is an important article for giving light. My xo, 12, x3, I, 4. A reflection, a solid portrait I i than sound.
is a kind of walking-stick. My whole contains thirteen letters, and
is the name of a large body of water. E. W. C. MATHEMATICAL PUZZLE.'
I AsoI a word of five letters, and my sum equals 207. I a
A ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS. denotehbu, i.s er tain.. n tod i1t,


to Rome.
B.


m used to


THFI cross is formed of five diamonds, as indicated by the diagram,
the outer letters of the central diamond being used also in forming
the adjacent blocks, which would be incomplete without them. Each
of the four points of the central diamond is used three times, once as
a point of its own block, and once as a point of each of the neighbor-
ing blocks. The words of each diamond read the same across as up
and down.
I. Upper Left-hand Diamond: a. A consonant. 2. A bone.
3. A wild animal. 4. A Turkish title of dignity. 5. In arrears.
II. Upper Right-hand Diamond: I. In terror. 2. A tool. 3. A
bird, supposed to be of ill-omen. 4. An insect's home, and also that
with which it catches its prey. 5. In union.
III. Central Diamond: i. In fear. 2. A tree whose wood is
tough. 3. Tree-gum. 4. Quick and bright intelligence. 5. In
junction.
IV. Lower Left-hand Diamond: i. In credible. a. An inclosed
seat. 3. A part of a fortification. 4. A person fond of cracking
little jokes. 5. In defensible.
V. Lower Pi -ht h-n,- Diamond: I. In caution. 2. A great
weight. 3. 1 ..i. j .i.:. 4. A snare. 5. In ended. ISOLA.

EASY BEHEADED RHYMES.
IN each of the following couplets, fill the first blank with a word
which, after dropping its first letter, can be put into the second
blank, and will then make sense as well as rhyme:
1. The fisherman, with line all -,
Still kept his patience as he -.
2. At the first bite, the line he -,
And off the fish fell from the -.
3. Pete drew a picture of a--,
And drew it, too, with pen and -.
4. When sailing long in many -,
Wise shipmen use the juice of-.
5. She glared on him in feeble -,
For he had stepped upon her -.
6. The barber took his painted ,
And stuck thereon one raven B.

HIDDEN REVERSED RIVERS.
IN each of the following sentences find the name of a river con-
cealed, the letters of the name being placed so as to spell backward:
i. I got a glove-box for my birthday-present. 2. William Wallace
bled for his country. 3. Last week I bought a new Shakespeare "
in one volume. 4. My uncle was once chased by an elephant. 5.
Mother has gone to buy some linen. 6. Tell me what you saw at
Toronto. DYCIE.
PROBLEM.
TAKE 10oo and 50; divide by i; add 50; and the answer will be
less than a cent.
HIDDEN FRENCH MOTTO.
THE motto is in four words, meaning "Do everything well or not
at all." The four words are concealed in the following sentence:
"When you get out the Biennial Catalogue, please mail a copy
to our friends at Capri, enclosing it in the wrapper which I now send
to you." B.


My -- my 3 one-fifth ofmy 5.
My 2 X my 4 one-fifth of my 3.
My 5 X my =2000 X my 3. w. R. P.
SQUARE-WORD.
I. A COIN used formerly in Southern Europe. 2. Custom. 3. The
plural form of the name of a kind of prison, often seen in houses and
in which one sometimes keeps a little friend. 4. A deputy. 5.
Quick to be angered. UNCLE WILL.
PICTORIAL PUZZLE.

Vt


J12















-AI


WITH the letters of the name of one of the plants represented in
this picture, spell the names of the five others. j P. B.

NUMERICAL DIAMOND.

S2 3
2 3 4 5
34 5
5
a. My I is in indescribable. 2. My I, 2, 3 is wicked. 3. My
I, 2, 3, 4, 5, is the name of a foreign city, a fashionable resort. 4.
My 3, 4, 5, is a cave. 5. My 5 is in indiscriminate. D.








[JULY.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


REBUS.


I i '--- '\ In .-.-" < I ANSWVERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before
'*- S *May 2o, from Florence Wilcox-Cyrus F. Judson-"7, 8, ."-T..l:i
-- |l Lathers-Chas. A. Higgins-Maud A. Wilson-Lester I..: -
W. P.-Clarence H. Young-Alice Potts-P. T. O.-Bertha Potts-
A QUOTATION from the play of "Hamlet." Bessie Taylor-E. D. H.-J. Mondscbein-Eddie F. Worcester-
May L. Shepard-N. T.-Mary L. Otis-Jennie Kimball-Alice C.
Twitchell-Rob and Rosie Palmer-Henriette Bacharach-Bessie Hotchkiss and Tommy Hotchkiss-Fanny Arnot-Louise C. Jackson-
Chas. H. Hull-Mary J. Hull-Collinsville-Rosie and Gracie Van Wagenen-Edith Wilkinson-Nellie C. Graham-Oriole-Robt. S.
Swords, Jr.-C. A. Walker, Jr.-R. B. Salter-Rosa-Cassivelaunus-Lee Sturges-Birdie-Lewis Crull-Charles Campbell-Lizzie H. D.
St. Vram-Edgar F. Jordan-Herbert James Tily-Jennie S. Ward-Sadie Duffield and Constance Grand Pierre-Bessie Boyce-Bessie
Hard-Cornelia Golay-Daisy B. Hodgsdon and Topsy Hodgsdon-Annie A. Anthony-Arthur S. Walcott-Annie Wellington-Lulu Mather
-Floy Crowell-Flavel S. Mines-Kenneth B. Emerson-Robert A. Gally-Bird Johnston-" Winnie"-Will E. Nichols-G. Schirmer-
Courtenay H. Fenn-J. E. Brown-Florence L. Turrill-Alice Sutro-Helen B. Holmes-Reta S. McIlvaine-Henry W. Green-Vee
Cornwell-Emma E. Brewster-Sally D. Swift-Frank Barker-Bessie C. Barney-" Mother Goose"-Lillie Burling-Josephine Farnum
-Lula Kauffman-E. G. Seibels-Albert Thomas and Sheldon Emery-Louise Chapin Euen-Frank Bowman-" Hard and Tough"
"The Blanke Family"-Frances Hunter-Frank W. Foster-Alfred W. Stockwell-Bessie L. Reilly-" Malaga Grapes and Hard
Crackers"-J. R. T.-Kate E. Earl-S. W. P.-F. L. P.-Belle W. Brown-Chas. F. Chase-Peyton J. Van Rensselaer-B. B. and H.
-Adele G. D.-Baby-Bessie and her cousin-" X. Y. Z."-Curtis and Victor Scott-Ellie and Corrie-Prebo-Ida Cohn-Bessie T.
Loudon-Hattie Fox-Fanny Richmond-S. J. de la Hunt-Trask-Wm. Wirt Mills-Loyal Durand-The Three Wise Men of Gotham-
Narcissus-Clover Leaf-Julie Seaton-Kitty Atwater-A, Guyot Cameron-" Riddlers "-Frank P. Turner-Richard Stockton.


VERY EASY CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.
My first is in loss, but not in gain;
My second in trouble, not in pain.
My third is in near, but not in-far.
My whole is a vast and luminous star.

DROP-LETTER HOUR-GLASS PUZZLE.
-n-L??--
--A-A--

-A-

-A-
-A-A-
-A-A--

Central perpendiculars: The name of one of the United States.
Horizontals: I. The name of a tropical fruit, in its plural form.
2. A pleasant dish of uncooked vegetables. 3. A carpentering tool.
4. In liberty, 5. A deity of ancient times. 6. One who was
hanged on a gallows he had prepared for another. 7. A territory
of western Africa. H. H. D.
RIDDLE.

TAKE just half a dozen;
Add one-sixth of frozen,
And one-fifth of weave,
And you'll have perceive.
LOUISE E. ANNA.

DROP-LETTER MOTTO.

THE motto is that of the English guild, or company, of Weavers.
W-A-E-R-T-W-T-T-U-T. ALICE LANIGAN.



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JUNE NUMBER.
SQUARE-WoRD.-x. Baron. 2. Alone. 3. Roast. 4. Onset. 5. Netty.
GARDEN PUZZLE.-I. Pansy. 2. Hollyhock. 3. Pink. 4. Jon-
quil. 5. Mignonette. 6. Candytuft. 7. Larkspur. 8. Tulip. 9.
Peony. io. Phlox. Ivy. 12. Portulacca. 13. Snapdragon.
COMBINATION PUZZLE.--. Oscar. 2. Spade. 3. Capon. 4.-
Adore. 5. Renew.
A PAIR oF DIAMONDS.-x. S. 2. VAn. 3. SaUer. 4. NEt. 5.
R. 6. K. 7. ORb. S. KrAut. 9. BUn io. T.
HEXAGONAL PUZZLES.- M MI
FIT CIT
DANES WANED
I. I CENI II. ARENA
MERES GARON
SAT TAN
L L
DIAMOND IN WORD-SQUARE.-I. Helot. a. Elope. 3. Lover. 4.
Opens. 5. Terse.
GEOGRAPHICAL PICTURE ANAGRAMS.--. Charleston; L T on
arches. 2. Cologne; one clog. 3. Washington; hat on wings. 4.
Wheeling; G in wheel. 5. Trenton; R on tent. 6. Kingston; K
in tongs.--EAS CROss-WonD.-London.
NUMERICAL PUZZLE AND WORD-SQUAREs,-Asseveration. I. I.
Ass. 2. See. 3. Set. II. i. Eve, 2. Van. 3. End. III. a.
Rat. 2. Ate. 3. Tea. IV. i. Ion. 2. One. 3. New.
REBus.-The longest way about is the shortest way home.
TRANSPOSITIONS.--. Broadest, best road. 2. Steady, stayed. 3.
Is held, shield, he slid, led his. 4. Supersede, pure seeds. 5. Other,
or the. 6. Ye men, enemy.