• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 The fox and the stork
 Jingle
 The "darning-needle"
 Pussy and her elephant
 Jack and Jill
 The making of the humming-bird
 The coral castle
 Chewink
 Placer and Gulch mining for...
 Johnny's pockets
 A happy thought for street...
 Mother's hired man
 The major's big-talk stories
 Why the black cat winked
 The woodman's daughter
 A little wave's history
 The Fairport nine
 Before and after flowering
 Marjorie's peril
 Ted and Kate
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: St. Nicholas.
Title: Saint Nicholas: Vol. 7, no. 10. August 1880.
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00090
 Material Information
Title: Saint Nicholas: Vol. 7, no. 10. August 1880.
Series Title: St. Nicholas.
Uniform Title: Saint Nicholas: Vol. 7, no. 10
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner,
Publication Date: August 1880
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals.
Literature for Children
 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
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00090
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

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    The fox and the stork
        Page 761
        Page 762
        Page 763
        Page 764
    Jingle
        Page 765
    The "darning-needle"
        Page 766
        Page 767
    Pussy and her elephant
        Page 768
        Page 769
    Jack and Jill
        Page 770
        Chapter XVII
            Page 770
            Page 771
            Page 772
            Page 773
            Page 774
        Chapter XVIII
            Page 775
            Page 776
            Page 777
            Page 778
            Page 779
        Chapter XIX
            Page 780
            Page 781
            Page 782
            Page 783
    The making of the humming-bird
        Page 784
    The coral castle
        Page 785
        Page 786
        Page 787
        Page 788
    Chewink
        Page 789
    Placer and Gulch mining for gold
        Page 790
        Page 791
        Page 792
        Page 793
        Page 794
        Page 795
        Page 796
    Johnny's pockets
        Page 797
        Page 798
    A happy thought for street children
        Page 800
        Page 801
        Page 802
        Page 803
        Page 804
        Page 805
    Mother's hired man
        Page 799
    The major's big-talk stories
        Page 806
        Page 807
        Page 808
    Why the black cat winked
        Page 809
        Page 810
        Page 811
        Page 812
        Page 813
        Page 814
    The woodman's daughter
        Page 815
    A little wave's history
        Page 815
        Page 816
    The Fairport nine
        Page 817
        Page 818
        Page 819
        Page 820
        Page 821
        Page 822
    Before and after flowering
        Page 823
        Page 824
    Marjorie's peril
        Page 825
        Page 826
        Page 827
        Page 828
        Page 829
    Ted and Kate
        Page 830
        Page 831
        Page 832
        Page 833
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 834
        Page 835
    The letter-box
        Page 836
        Page 837
        Page 838
    The riddle-box
        Page 839
        Page 840
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text















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HOP O' MY THUMB.
FROM A PICTURE BY GUSTAVE DOR9.
[See page 836.]


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Ja m-, .. --.


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ST. NICHOLAS.


AUGUST,: 8'8


o0. No. .o.


[Copyright, 1886, by Scfibner & Co.]



STHE FOX. AND THE, STORK.

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.


IN ST. NICHOLAS for September, '1876, I saw
an llIu ti :It,,;.. by Gustave Dor6, bf-the well-known
fable of the "Fox and the Stork," and it remnided
me of something thar 1'-';r i.p.:i;. less than one
hundred years ago. ,-. -:h ill i-mt, the story.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo! crowed the red cock,
youngest, handsomest, and earliest riser of all the
cocks in the poultry-yafd. His- rivdl, the old
yellow cock, had gone to roost overnight with the
full determination to be first iup the next morning.
But age is sleepy, and his head was still'under'his
wing when the challenge of higsvictorious'foe rang
out upon the air. Being second is next best to
being first, however, so he, too, flapped his wings,
crowed loudly, sprang from the perch, followed by
his wives and children, and in five minutes, cluck-
ing and cackling, the poultry-yard was -alive with
motion, and' the chicken-day had fairly begun.
Wasp, the red terrier, heard the noise through
his slumbers, yawned, stretched himself, turned
around once or twice as if to make sure that his tail
was where he left it the night before; then, jump-
ing against the side of the house, he barked lustily.
Half a minute later a window' above opened, and a
red object was thrust out. 'This red object was
Rufus Swift's he-.l. :.' from '.:-l .,n'd not yet
combed and brushed for the day. '
"Hurray! he cried.- "N6 rain after all!
Wasp, stop barking !- Do you hear me, sir?
You 'll wake mother and give her a headache, and
I want: her in good humor this day of all days."
Wasp understood the tone, if not-the words, and
changed his bark to a low whine.' -Rufus drew in
his head, and pioceeded'to- wash and .r.:- s' as fast
as possible. He had many plans on fbot arid much
VOL. VII.-50.


to do, for this was the day on which his school
fellow,- Leggy Beekman, was to make him a visit.
SLeggy's real name-was Leggett, but as a school-
boy he was bound to have a nickname, and being
of a tall, spare figure, Leggy" struck the other boys
as rather a happy allusion to facts. Rufushad been
but a -few months at the school, he and :Leggett
were almost strangers, but, finding that their homes
were near each.other, Rufus made the most.of the
acquaintance, and teased his mother for leave to ask
Leggett to spend a day,, till at:last she conseiited.
SMrs. Swift was:a timid old lady, who dreaded
boys and noise and confusion generally. 'She
r.:, .-1..1 i..-: .: a formidable person, for when
she asked: Rufus what he would like by way of ali
entertainment for his friend, he answered, without
hesitation:. "A rat-hunt, a sail on the lake, and
.tickets for -1..- ., 1,l; ."
"Oh, dear me cried poor Mrs. Swift. "I'll
send you to see the juggler and welcome, Rufy, but
a rat-hunt i How can boys like such things! Are
you sure Master Beekman does ?"
"Why, Mother,-of course, all boys like 'erm,"
replied Rufus, purposely vague, for in. truth he
knew little about Leggett's likings and dislikings.
"Rat-hunts are prime fun. .And this is a prime
time to have one, for the south barn is just swarm-
ing. Wasp and Fury '11 pitch into 'em like sixty."
S" Then that lake-I do dread it so much," went
'on Mrs. Swift; it always seemed dangerous to
.me. Don't you think your friend would'like some-
thing else just as well?"
: Fudge about danger," said disrespectful-Rufus.
"'Now, Mother, don't forget; please. I wont have
Beekman at all unless we can have a good-time.


VOL.. VII.








762 THE FOX AND THE STORK. [AUGuST,.


You said I might take my choice and do just what I
wanted the day he came, and I choose the rat-hunt
and the sail and the juggler."
Mrs. Swift sighed and submitted. After all, it
was only kind in Rufus to plan to give his school-
mate the things he enjoyed, she thought. She
liked to have him unselfish and hospitable. But
there was little hospitality in Rufus's thoughts, and
no unselfishness. His plans were for his own
benefit, not Leggett's, and he had no idea of con-
sulting anybody's tastes but his own.
About eleven o'clock the visitor arrived. Mrs.
Swift came down-stairs rather timidly: a boy who
preferred sailing and rat-hunting to anything else
must, she thought, be an alarming fellow. But
Leggett did not look alarming in the least. He
was a tall, loose-jointed, long-limbed boy, with a
narrow, sallow face, hooked nose, and a pair of
dark, short-sighted eyes. He had a way of putting
his head close to things in order to see them, which
gave him an odd, solemn appearance not at all
boy-like. But, in spite of this and his awkward
figure, he was a gentlemanly lad, and his bow and
pleasant way of speaking made Mrs. Swift many
degrees less afraid of him before he had been five
minutes in the room.
Stout, active, freckled little Rufus danced about
his guest, and would scarcely give him time to
speak, so impatient was he to begin the day.
Oh, come along, Leggy," he broke in, "you '11
see my mother at dinner. Don't waste time talk-
ing now. Come out with me to the barn."
"The barn ?" said Leggett, squinting up his
eyes to make out the subject of a print which hung
on the wall.
"Yes; we're going to have a rat-hunt, you
know. My dogs, Wasp and Fury, are great on
rats, and I 've set Jack, our farm-boy, to poke out
the holes, and it'll be prime fun. Come along."
Leggett hesitated, and Mrs. Swift detected a look
which was not all of pleasure.
Perhaps Master Beekman would rather do
something else- she began, but Rufus pulled
at his guest's arm, and cried:
"Mother, what rubbish--" and Leggett, too
polite to resist, followed to the barn.
Jack was in waiting with the terriers. The
doors were closed, the dogs sniffed and whined,
Jack poked and pried in the holes. Presently a
rat sprang out, then another, and confusion dire
set in. Squeaking wildly, the terrified rats ran to
and fro, the dogs in full chase, Jack I it-,.... .. them
on and "jabbing" with a stick, Rufus, wild with
excitement, clattering after. Dust rose from the
floor in clouds, the lofts above echoed the din, and
so entirely was Rufus absorbed by the sport that it
was not until half an hour had passed, and three


rats lay dead upon the ground, that he remem-
bered the existence of his visitor, and only then
because he happened to stumble over Jfis legs.
Leggett was sitting in the corner on an inverted.
corn-measure, looking rather pale.
"Hallo, Beekman, are you there? Why don't
you pitch in?" remarked Rufus. "It's famous fun,
is n't it? You don't mean to say you don't like it? "
Not much," said Leggett. I don't like to see-
things killed."
"Ho! That's a good one. Jack, hear this.
Here's a boy who don't like to see things killed."
As I don't," went on Leggett, perhaps you '11
excuse me if I leave you to finish the rats alone.
I'll sit with your mother, or wait under the trees,
till you get through."
Leggett's manner was so polite that it reminded
Rufus to be polite also.
"No, hang it," he said. If you don't care for
it, we 'II put off the hunt till another day. What a
queer chap you are !" he continued, as they went
along; "you 're not a bit like the rest of the fellows.
Why don't you like to see rats killed ?"
I don't know. They are nuisances, of course,
but it strikes me as a low sort of fun to enjoy see-
ing their fright and hearing them squeak."
"My eye! How mighty and genteel we are!:
What does your worship like, may I ask, if rats are
too 'low to suit ? "
"It was rude of me to use the word," said
Leggett, apologetically. "Excuse me, Rufus..
What shall we do next ?"
Oh, we '11 take a sail," said Rufus, whose pro-
gramme had been exactly laid out beforehand.
There 's the boat, under the trees. I 'II take you
up to the head of the lake."
Sailing?" said Leggett. I 'm sorry, Rufus,
but I can't."
"Can't? Why not?"
Why, you see, I 'm under a promise not to go-
on the water."
A promise Stuff! What sort of a promise?"
cried Rufus, who could not bear to be put out.
Leggett blushed painfully.
"The promise is to my mother," he said, speak-
ing with an effort. My father was drowned, you
see, and she has a great fear of the water for me.
I gave her my word that I would n't get into a sail-
boat, and I must keep it."
"Oh, if that's all," said Rufus, come along.
My mother fidgets just so-all women do; but it 's.
nonsense. There 's old Tom hoisting the sail.
You 'I1 be as safe as if on dry land. And your
mother '11 never know-come on."
I thought you heard me say that I had given
my word," said Leggett, seating himself deliber-
ately under a tree.


762


THE FOX AND THE STORK.


[AUGUST,






THE FOX AND THE STORK.


Confound your promises!" exclaimed Rufus,
angrily; I'm not going to lose my sail, any way.
I don't get leave often, and Tom is n't to be
had every day, so if you wont go I shall just go
without you."
Pray do," said Leggett. I will sit here and
watch you off."
Rufus was too hot and vexed to realize what an
uncivil thing he was doing. Without another word


LEGGETT'S TURN, [SEE NEXT PAGE.


he bounded down the bank, sprang into the boat,
and in five minutes her white sail was speeding up
the lake. Leggett lay under the trees awhile, then
walked to the house, and when, two hours later,
Rufus sought for him, he was found bending his
short-sighted eyes over a book, which he had taken
from the shelf in the parlor.
"You 've had a dull time, I'm afraid," said
Rufus, feeling some belated pricks of conscience.
Oh, no," replied Leggett; '' I 've done very
Swell. This is a book I was wishing to see."
I '11 lend it you if you like," said Rufus, gen-
erous enough in things which cost him nothing.
Leggett accepted the offer amicably, and matters
went smoothly till dinner-time.
"Have you had a pleasant morning?" asked
old Mrs. Swift, as she carved the roast goose.


Splendid," said Rufus. Leggett said nothing.
"And a nice sail?" she continued, amiably
desirous to be civil to Rufus's friend.
First-rate," answered Rufus, and again Leggett
was silent.
"And now you 're to see the jugglers," went on
the old lady. Rufy, you '11 find the tickets on the
chimney-piece, back of your pa's daguerreotype."
"All right, Mother," said Rufus, and Leggett
looked pleased, for, as it
happened, he had never
Iii seen a juggler.
But, alas Jack wanted
S to speak to Rufus after
iA '. dinner, and Rufus went
,l off with him to the barn
Si for half an hour, so,
1,4 though the friends walked
fast to the town, they
.i reached the show so late
that they had to take back
seats. This did not matter
to Rufus, but it mattered
very much indeed to Leg-
gett, whose short sight
I prevented him from see-
ing anything clearly.
S "What is it? What
did he do? I could not
make it out," he would
ask, while Rufus, jumping
up and down with delight,
ejaculated : "Famous!
S Capital! I never saw
'. anything so good."
i "Do try to tell me.
'j What was it he did?"
g e "Oh, such a queer
game He stuck a hand-
kerchief inside a bottle,
you see,"-but just then the conjuror proceeding
to pound a lady's watch in a mortar, Rufus forgot
his unfinished sentence, and poor Leggett never
learned what became of the pocket-handkerchief.
This fate followed him through the entire per-
formance, which left him with a headache, a pair
of smarting eyes, and a mind full of puzzles.
Tea, muffins, cakes and country sweetmeats of
all sorts were awaiting them at the Red Farm,
and kind old Mrs. Swift hoping they had enjoyed
themselves, Rufus energetically declared that he
had. After tea, Leggett's pony was brought around,
and he said good-bye, asking Rufus to come over
the next week and spend a day with him.
"I can't offer you any sailing; you know why,"
he said, good-humoredly. "But I shall be glad
to see you."


763


1880.]






THE FOX AND THE STORK.


All right," said Rufus. I'11 be sure to come.
Thursday, you said ?"
"Yes; Thursday."
The boys parted, and Leggett trotted away.
Leggett's mother listened to his account of the
visit with a smile which was shrewd and a little
malicious. She was, like her boy, thin of figure,
long of face, with the same keen nose and short-
sighted eyes.
Hum! Rat-hunting, sailing, a juggler!" she
said. Master Swift fancies these things himself,
I imagine. The little fox! Well, what will you
do to amuse him when he returns your visit?"
I'm not sure. What would be best, Mamma?"
Let me see," and Mrs. Beekman's eyes
twinkled wickedly. There are your microscopic
objects,-you could show him those, and your
medals and your cabinet of shells. And-yes, the
very thing! Professor Peters gives his chemical
lecture in the afternoon. That will be sure to be
interesting; you remember how much you liked
the others."
So I did! cried Leggett. That will be first-
rate, wont it? Only," his face falling, "perhaps
Rufus might think it dull. He 's such an active
fellow."
Oh, he may like it," said his mother. He
ought to. If he knows nothing about chemistry, it
will all be new to him. And there is a good deal
of popping and exploding in the course of the
experiments; all boys enjoy that. We '11 settle it
so, Leggett,-all your curiosities for the morning,
and the lecture in the afternoon."
"Very well," said Leggett, unsuspectingly;
while his mother, who had much ado not to laugh,
kept her face perfectly serious, lest he should guess
her mischievous intention.
Rufus, for once in his life, felt awkward, as he
walked into Mrs. Beekman's parlor. His own home
was comfortable and handsome, but here were
all sorts of things which he was not used to see,-
pictures, busts, globes, cabinets of fossils and
stones, stuffed birds, and instruments of which he
did not know the name or use. Leggett's father
had been a man of science; his wife shared his
tastes; and had carefully trained her son's mind in
the same direction. Rufus glanced at these strange
objects out of the corners of his eyes, and felt oddly
sheepish as Mrs. Beekman, talIoand dignified, came
forward to shake hands with him.
Leggett will be here in a moment," she said;
he was busy in arranging a fly's wing on one of
his microscope glasses. Ah, here he is."
As she spoke, Leggett hurried into the room.
The boys shook hands. There was a little talk;
then Mrs. Beekman said, graciously:
Perhaps your friend would like to see your


room, Leggett, and your collections. Take him
upstairs; but don't get so absorbed as to forget
that to-day we dine early, in order to leave time
for the lecture."
Leggett's room was a pleasant little study, fitted
up with presses and book-shelves. It had a large,
delightful window looking out into the tree-tops.
His bed-chamber opened from it, and both were
cozy and convenient as heart of boy could wish.
Leggett was fond of his rooms, and proud to
exhibit them to one of his school-fellows.
See," he said. Here are my books, and my
shells, and my coins, and here I keep my plaster
medals. And this is my mineral cabinet. Would
you like to look over the minerals?"
No, thank you; I don't care much for stones,"
said Rufus.
"Well, here 's my microscope," said Leggett,
"and I 've got some splendid slides! Take this
chair, Rufus; it 's just the right height for the
glass."
Rufus rather unwillingly took the chair, and
Leggett proceeded to exhibit and explain his
beloved specimens, expatiating on chalk-shells,
moth-wings and infusoria, till, suddenly, a great,
noisy yawn on the part of Rufus made him desist
with a jump.
I 'm afraid this is boring you," he said, in an
embarrassed tone.
"Well, rather," confessed Rufus, with a dread-
ful frankness.
"Would you rather see my medals, then?"
asked Leggett, pulling out a drawer. But Rufus
could not be induced to show any interest in the
medals beyond calling the Emperor Commodus
" the old chap with a nose"; so Leggett, discom-
fited, shut the drawer again. Shells and coins
were equally unsuccessful, and Leggett was at his
wits' end to know what to do next, when the ring-
ing of the dinner-bell relieved him of his perplexity.
Perhaps Mrs. Beekman had a guess as to how
the morning had gone, Rufus came down-stairs
looking so bored, and Leggett so tired and anxious;
but she was very attentive and civil, gave large
helps of everything, and as Rufus's appetite was
not at all impaired by his sufferings, dinner passed
off with great success, excepting in the case of a
dainty little dish of frogs' legs, stewed delicately in
a nice brown gravy. Leggett and his mother were
foreign enough in their tastes to like this out-of-
the-way dainty; but Rufus, who had never seen
such before, was horrified.
"Frogs!" he cried. "I thought nobody but
cranes, and birds like that, ate frogs. What would
my mother say?"
Cranes, and birds like that,' show very good
taste, then," remarked Mrs. Beekman, helping her-


764


[AUGUST,







i880o.


JINGLE.


self, composedly. But Rufus could not be per-
suaded to touch the frogs' legs.
The dessert was hurried a little, Mrs. Beekman
remarking that they must make haste in order to
miss none of the lecture, while Leggett eagerly
explained what a delightful treat lay before them.
Dr. Peters is a great gun, you know," he said.
" Some of the experiments in the other lectures
have been splendid. You 'd like to go, Rufus?
There 's all sorts of fizzing and popping, and green-
and-red flames, and interesting things."
Ye-es," replied Rufus; but if ever a boy's
face expressed dismay his did at that moment.
The prospect of possible pops and fizzes alone
enabled him to meet the proposal with common
politeness.
Poor Rufus. It was indeed a black afternoon for
him. As it turned out, none of the explosions
which Leggett had described occurred in the
experiments, and the lecture was full of technical
terms and phrases which Leggett, having studied
chemistry a good deal, understood, but which
were unmeaning to Rufus, who found the whole
thing inexpressibly dull. Disconsolate and de-


765


pressed, he sat swallowing his yawns, while Leggett,
forgetting everything else, listened with bright-
eyed interest, only turning now and then to his
mother for a look of sympathy, quite unconscious
of what his guest was enduring. Their seat was
close to the lecturer, so that Leggett could see
every step of the process, and his pleasure was
thorough and complete.
It has been interesting, has n't it ?" said Mrs.
Beekman, on the way home; "or was it a little
over your head, Master Rufus ? I feared it might
be, as you did not hear the rest of the course."
Rufus muttered something indistinct, which no-
body could hear, and walked on in sulky silence.
In silence he ate his supper; then his horse was
brought to the door, and he made ready to go.
Good-bye," said his hostess ; I hope you '11
come again. Leggett was a little anxious as to
how he should entertain you, but I told him he
would better just do as you did, and let you share
the things which he himself liked and enjoyed.
A good way,-don't you think so ? Good-bye."
And with these words Mamma Beekman dis-
missed Master Swift to his home.


-I .


* !;'2' L


A PLUMP little girl and a thin little bird
Were out in the meadow together.
" How cold that poor little bird must be
Without any clothes like mine," said she,
Although it is sunshiny weather."


A nice little girl is that," said he,
"But oh, how cold she must be! For, see,
She has n't a single feather I"-
So each shivered to think of the other poor thing,
Although it was sunshiny weather.


.N


~ii~l
~C5 -`-~"


I







THE "DARNING-NEEDLE."


THE "DARNING-NEEDLE."

BY E. C. N.


i s you see by the pict-
ure, it is not the one-
I / eyed stocking doctor"
that we are about to in-
Stroduce to you. No,
indeed; our aristocratic
little acquaintance would
own no connection with
that unpretending but
very useful member of
society. And yet we
SN are suspicious that our
little aristocrat of the
Most wonderful vision,
: unsurpassed nimbleness
S --- and world-wide acquaint-
ance is, after all, a sort
of namesake of the stiff
needle, whose only eye
is put out," and whose whole knowledge of the
world is confined to the narrow limits of the
stocking-basket. But you must not whisper to the
dragon-fly what I have told you.
My Darning-needle has the wise family name
Libellulide, the plain English of which is dragon-
fly. It does n't object to either of these names, or
even to the common name of darning-needle, if
you only don't associate it with anything stiff or
blind. It is really no clumsy affair. There is not
a stiff joint in its body, and as for seeing things,
why, bless your eyes it is a perfect marvel. You
never saw anything more wonderful. It would take
your bright-eyed, smart little Johnny six hours-
the longest, busiest hours he ever spent in his life


-just to count the eyes of the dragon-fly. Twenty-
four thousand eyes Just think of a little chap
with twelve thousand eyes to your one. He can
look to the right and to the left, down and up,
backward and forward, toward all points of the
compass at the same instant of time. Who can
tell all that he sees? Would n't you like to borrow
his eyes for about ten minutes ?
The dragon-fly is not only marvelous on account
of its vast number of eyes, but it is curious in
many ways. There are about two hundred known
species, some of which are very beautiful. The
largest and most brilliant kinds are found on the
Amazon River. Some of them," says a traveler,
' with green or crimson bodies seven inches long,
and their elegant, lace-like wings tipped with white
or yellow."
The dragon-fly is the most ferocious of all insects,
and he has for this reason been called the devil's
darning-needle," but it is better to drop the big
adjective and not call hard names. Yet he is truly
the greatest cannibal of the insect world. He dines
with keenest relish upon his many cousins, has a
special appetite for tender young mosquitoes, and
does not hesitate to devour the prettiest, loveliest
butterflies or any of the family relatives that he is
able to catch.
All the little fellows are afraid of him, but it is
useless to try to escape him. Even the swift mos-
quito, with its three thousand vibrations of the
wing a minute, cannot outfly this terrible, swift
dragon.
He takes his meals while on the wing,-a whole
insect at one swallow,-and you can hardly guess


766


[AUGUST,








iSSo.] THE "DARNING-NEEDLE." 767


how many victims are served up for a good square
'meal." Quite a little swarm is needed for his
dinner, and he is always ready to make way with
all the scattering ones that he finds for lunch
between meals.
The dragon-fly knows all the ways of the world.
He can dart backward just as well as forward, and
fly sideways just as well as any other way, and so
there is no chance to get out of his way. When
he once goes for his victim, it is all over with it.
Naturalists have been greatly interested in this
insect, and have studied its habits closely from its
babyhood up.
Mrs. Dragon is a firm believer in the use of
plenty of water in bringing up her babies, so all
her little ones begin life in an aquatic nursery.
From the leaf of a water-plant, in which they are
.at first cuddled up, they come out with rough-
looking, grub-like bodies, having six sprawling
legs. They find themselves all alone in the world.
Their mother has gone and left them, and they have
no one to provide them with their '"bread and din-
ner." They must stir themselves and grub it for
.a living." But they have such a stupid, lubbe'r-
heel look, that no one would think they knew
*enough to take care of themselves. On their head
is something that looks like a hood, and this is
drawn over their faces as though they were
ashamed.
But this hood is only their natural head-dress.
These little water-nymphs don't really wear their
hoods for bonnets to keep them from taking cold, but
they are really masks, and very curious ones, too.
'This mask is made of hinges, slides and hooks,
and it is their trap
to get a living.
'J When they see
something which
it", they would relish
'for dinner, the
hinges spring open,
the slides shove out,
_- and the hooks cling
J in, and in one in-
Sstant of time their
Sprey is secured.
if And that is the
way these dumpish-
looking little chaps
._ "'go a fishing."
SYou surely would
never call them
THE HOME OF THE DARNING-NEEDLE. never call them
dull fellows if you


'should once see the lively way they serve up refresh-
ments. Quicker than we can tell it, they pack their
lunch-baskets from capsized gnat and mosquito-
boats, and they overtake the swift little tadpoles


and serve them up in smacking
good" meat-pies.
Perhaps you would like to
know how these little fellows get
about so fast. Neither fins nor
paddles of any kind are used in
chasing their prey, nor to help
them handle it when caught. But
to get about they have a way of
their own, and, a few years ago,
a British war-vessel was built to
go by a method like theirs.
You may have read that Ben-
jamin Franklin once had an idea
that a boat could be made with
a pump in the stern, by which
water could be drawn in and
pumped out with such force as
to propel the boat along. But
the ingenious Franklin, although
he could coax lightning from the
clouds and make it obey him, had
to give up the idea of pumping
boats about. And here is just
where this little grub beats the
great philosopher. In the stern
of his little worm-skin boat, he
has a pump that works like a
charm. When the little nymph
wants to go on an exploring voy-
age, his clever little muscles in-
stantly set the pump at work,
and away shoots the boat like a
rocket, while at the prow of the
boat is the masked pirate, always
ready for his booty. He is very
voracious, and banquets on mul-
titudes of little creatures during
the one year of his grub life.
At the end of the year, the
little pump-boat that has served
him so well is anchored to a
water-plant, and in two hours
Jack, the sailor-grub, starts out
on another voyage.
But this is an aerial trip. He
hoists sail, unfolding four lovely
wings of gauze, and speeds away
into the air, the rich-robed mon-
arch of the insect world.
To every enemy of insects the
dragon-fly is a friend, for what
uncounted hosts of water-insects
does the swift boat of this pirate
overtake before it comes to shore,
and what swarms and swarms
of little animal life have been


THE "DARNING-NEEDLE."


767


i880.]






PUSSY AND HER ELEPHANT.


buried in that one grave,-the voracious, never-
satisfied, long stomach of the great insect dragon !
But only insects have reason to fear him; and he
generally proves quite sociable with the boys and girls
who cross his path, knowing himself well insured
against capture by his swift-dartin g wings and myriad
eyes. You will find him much more difficult to catch
than,his Cousin Butterfly, but when you go fishing
he will flit along the bank in front of you as you wade
through marshy places, or hover above the tangle
of drift-wood near which you have dropped your
line, as if he enjoyed your company. Now and
then, perhaps, he will even poise gracefully for a


moment above your outstretched rod, or silently
settle on the very same log on which you are seated,
and almost within reach of your hand. Make the
slightest motion to entrap him, and see how quickly
he is gone! Yet he does not go far, returning
sometimes to the very spot from which you drove
him away. Be sure, then, that at least some hun-
dreds of his thousand eyes are on you; but, though
he is such a terror to his own tribe and kindred, he
is at peace with all mankind, and you may become
acquainted with this beautiful but fierce darning-
needle with as much safety as with the homely,
stupid one in grandmother's stocking-basket.


PUSSY AND HER ELEPHANT.

BY HANNAH MORE JOHNSON.


/



i1/




t


HAVE you heard of little Pussy, in that country o'er the sea,
How the dogs came out to chase her and she had to climb a tree?
You have n't ? Then I '11 tell you how gentle Pussy Gray
Went climbing up, hand over hand, and safely got away.

But then the strangest trouble came The tree began to shake !
A tremendous giant something took Pussy by the neck


768


[AUGUST,







PUSSY AND HER ELEPHANT.


769


And tossed her off And there again among
the dogs was she,
And what could frightened Pussy do, but climb
the same old tree?


I'



I~


S I '11 let her make herself at home."-And
;. Pussy, safe once more,
SFolded her paws contentedly and viewed the
country o'er,
And purred a meek apology: Excuse me, friend, I see
I 've climbed a broad-backed elephant; I meant to climb a tree "


/.
Whatever else.she -said or sung that you would like to hear
She must have whispered coaxingly into the giant ear;
For often afterward, 't is said, Miss Pussy Gray was seen
To ride the broad-backed elephant as proud as any queen!


-A
/ II-"


------


q
~


But then the strange thing came again, and,
swinging high in air,
Pounced right on little Pussy, as she sat
S trembling there;
'. But when it touched her fur it stopped; as
though its owner thought:
It 's nothing but a pussy-cat that trouble here
has brought.






[AUGUST,


JACK AND JILL.


THE INVASION. (FROM A PAINTING BY F. B. MAYER.)


JACK AND JILL.*

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.

CHAPTER XVII. behave well at meals, so, though their eyes glared
and their tails quivered with impatience, they
DOWN AT MOLLY'S. obeyed; and when she put the food on a high shelf
and retired to the big basket, the four old cats sat
"Now, my dears, I've something very curious demurely down before her, while the five kits
to tell you, so listen quietly and then I'11 give you scrambled after her and tumbled into her lap, asif
your dinners," said Molly, addressing the nine cats hoping to hasten the desired feast by their innocent
who came trooping after her as she went into the gambols.
shed chamber, with a bowl of milk and a plate of Granny, Tobias, Mortification and Molasses were
scraps in her hands. She had taught them to the elders. Granny, a gray old puss, was the
Copyright, 1879, by Louisa M. Alcott. All rights reserved.


770






[AUGUST,


JACK AND JILL.


THE INVASION. (FROM A PAINTING BY F. B. MAYER.)


JACK AND JILL.*

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.

CHAPTER XVII. behave well at meals, so, though their eyes glared
and their tails quivered with impatience, they
DOWN AT MOLLY'S. obeyed; and when she put the food on a high shelf
and retired to the big basket, the four old cats sat
"Now, my dears, I've something very curious demurely down before her, while the five kits
to tell you, so listen quietly and then I'11 give you scrambled after her and tumbled into her lap, asif
your dinners," said Molly, addressing the nine cats hoping to hasten the desired feast by their innocent
who came trooping after her as she went into the gambols.
shed chamber, with a bowl of milk and a plate of Granny, Tobias, Mortification and Molasses were
scraps in her hands. She had taught them to the elders. Granny, a gray old puss, was the
Copyright, 1879, by Louisa M. Alcott. All rights reserved.


770







JACK AND JILL.


mother and grandmother of all the rest. Tobia's
was her eldest son, and Mortification his brother,
so named because he had lost his tail, which afflic-
tion depressed his spirits and cast a blight over his
young life. Molasses was a yellow cat, the mamma
of four of the kits, the fifth being Granny's latest
darling. Toddlekins, the little aunt, was the image
of her mother and very sedate, even at that early
age; Miss Muffet, so called from her dread of
spiders, was a timid black and white kit; Beauty,
a pretty Maltese, with a serene little face and pink
nose; Rag-bag, a funny thing, every color that a cat
could be; and Scamp, who well deserved his name,
for he was the plague of Miss Bat's life, and Molly's
especial pet.
He was now perched on her shoulder, and, as
she talked, kept peeping into her face or biting her
ear in the most impertinent way, while the others
sprawled in her lap or promenaded around the
basket rim.
"My friends, something very remarkable has hap-
pened: Miss Bat is cleaning house and, having
made this announcement, Molly leaned back to see
how the cats received it, for she insisted that they
understood all she said to them.
Tobias stared, Mortification lay down as if it was
too much for him, Molasses beat her tail on the
floor as if whipping a dusty carpet, and Granny
began to purr approvingly. The giddy kits paid
no attention, as they did not know what house-
cleaning meant,, happy little dears !
I thought you 'd like it, Granny, for you are a
decent cat, and know what is proper," continued
Molly, leaning down to stroke the old puss, who
blinked affectionately at her. I can't imagine
what put it into Miss. Bat's head. I never said a
word, and gave up groaning over the clutter, as I
couldn't mend it. I just took care of Boo and
myself, and left her to be as untidy as she pleased,
and she is a regular old- "
Here Scamp put his paw on her lips, because he
saw them moving, but it seemed as if it was to
check the disrespectful word just coming out.
Well, I wont call names; but what s/all I do
when I -see everything in confusion, and she wont
let me clear up ? asked Molly, looking around at
Scamp, who promptly put the little paw on her
eyelid, as if the roll of the blue ball underneath
amused him.
Shut my eyes to it, you mean ? I do all I can,
but it is hard, when I wish to be nice, and do try;
Don't I ?" asked Molly. But Scamp was ready for
her, and began to comb her hair with both paws
as he stood on his hind legs to work so busily that
Molly laughed and pulled him down, saying, as
she cuddled the sly kit:
"You sharp little thing! I know my hair is not


neat now, for I've been chasing Boo round the
garden to wash him for school. Then Miss Bat
threw the parlor carpet out of the window, and I
was so surprised I had to run and tell you. Now,
what had we better do about it? "
The cats all winked at her, but no one had any
advice to offer, except Tobias, who walked to the
shelf, and, looking up, uttered a deep, suggestive
yowl, which said, as plainly as words, Dinner first
and discussion afterward."
"Very well, don't scramble," said Molly, getting
up to feed her pets. First the kits, who rushed at
the bowl and thrust their heads in, lapping as if for
a wager; then the cats, who each went to one of
the four piles of scraps laid round at intervals and
placidly ate their meat; while Molly retired to the
basket, to ponder over the phenomena taking place
in the house.
She could not imagine what had started the old
lady. It was not the example of her neighbors, who
had beaten carpets and scrubbed paint every spring
for years without exciting her to any greater exertion
than cleaning a few windows and having a man to
clear away the rubbish displayed when the snow
melted. Molly never guessed that her own efforts
were at the bottom of the change, nor knew that a
few words not meant for her ear had shamed Miss
Bat into action. Coming home from prayer-meet-
ing one dark night, she trotted along behind two
old ladies who were gossiping in loud voices, as one
was rather deaf, and Miss Bat was both pleased and
troubled to hear herself unduly praised.
I always said as Sister Dawes meant well; but
she's getting into years, and the care of two children
is a good deal for her, with her cooking and her
rheumatiz., I don't deny she did neglect 'em for a
spell, but she does well by 'em now, and I wouldn't
wish to see better-appearing children."
You've no idee how improved Molly is. She
came in to see my girls, and brought her sewing-
work, shirts for the boy, and done it as neat and
capable as,you'd wish to see. She always was a
smart child, but dreadful careless," said the other
old lady, evidently much impressed by the change
in harum-scarum Molly Loo.
Being over to Mis' Minot's so much has been
'good for her, and up to Mis' Grant's. Girls catch
neat ways as quick as they do untidy ones, and
them wild little tykes often turn out smart women."
Sister Dawes has done well by them children,
and I hope Mr. Bemis sees it. He ought to give
her something comfortable to live on when she
can't do for him any longer. He can well afford
it."
I have n't a doubt he will. He's a lavish man
when he starts to do a thing, but dreadful unob-
serving, else he 'd have seen to matters long ago.


i880.]


771






JACK AND JILL.


Them children was town-talk last fall, and I used
to feel as if it was my bounden duty to speak to
Mis' Dawes. But I never did, fearing I might
speak too plain, and hurt her feelings."
"You've spoken plain enough now, and I'm
beholden to you, though you'll never know it,"
said Miss Bat to herself, as she slipped into her
own gate, while the gossips trudged on, quite uncon-
scious of the listener behind them.
Miss Bat was a worthy old soul in the main, only,
like so many of us, she needed rousing up to her
duty. She had got the rousing now, and it did her
good, for she could not bear to be praised when
she had not deserved it. She had watched Molly's
efforts with lazy interest, and when the girl gave
up meddling with her affairs, as she called the
housekeeping, Miss Bat ceased to oppose her, and
let her scrub Boo, mend clothes, and brush her
hair as much as she liked. So Molly had worked
along without any help from her, running in to
Mrs. Pecq for advice, to Merry for comfort, or to
Mrs. Minot for the higher kind of help one often
needs so much. Now Miss Bat found that she was
getting the credit and the praise belonging to other
people, and it stirred her up to try and deserve a
part at least.
Molly does n't want any help about her work or
the boy: it's too late for that; but if this house
does n't get a spring cleaning that will make it
shine, my name aint Bathsheba Dawes," said the
old lady, as she put away her bonnet that night, and
laid energetic plans for a grand revolution, inspired
thereto not only by shame, but by the hint that
" Mr. Bemis was a lavish man," as no one knew
better than she.
Molly's amazement next day at seeing carpets fly
out of window, ancient cobwebs come down, and
long-undisturbed closets routed out, to the great
dismay of moths and mice, has been already con-
fided to the cats, and as she sat there watching
them lap and gnaw, she said to herself:
I don't understand it, but as she never says
much to me about my affairs, I wont take any
notice till she gets through; then I 'll admire every-
thing all I can. It is so pleasant to be praised
after you 've been trying hard."
She might well say that, for she got very little
herself, and her trials had been many, her efforts
not always successful, and her reward seemed a long
way off. Poor Boo could have sympathized with
her, for he had suffered much persecution from his
small school-mates, when he appeared with large
gray patches on the little brown trousers, where he
had worn them out coasting down those too fasci-
nating steps. As he could not see the patches him-
self, he fancied them invisible, and came home
much afflicted by the jeers of his friends. Then


Molly tried to make him new trousers from a sack
of her own; but she cut both sides for the same
leg, so one was wrong-side out. Fondly hoping
no one would observe it, she sewed bright buttons
wherever they could be put, and sent confiding
Boo away in a pair of blue trousers which were
absurdly hunchy behind and buttony before. He
came home heart-broken and muddy, having been
accidentally tipped into a mud-puddle by two bad
boys, who felt that such tailoring was an insult to
mankind. That roused Molly's spirit, and she


"THE NINE CATS CAME TROOPING AFTER HER.'


begged her father to take the boy and have
him properly fitted out, as he was old enough now
to be well dressed, and she wouldn't have him
tormented. His attention being called to the
trousers, Mr. Bemis had a good laugh over them,
and then got Boo a suit which caused him to be the
admired of all observers, and to feel as proud as a
little peacock.
Cheered by this success, Molly undertook a set
of small shirts, and stitched away bravely, though
her own summer clothes were in a sad state, and
for the first time in her life she cared about what
she should wear.
I must ask Merry, and may be father will let


772


[AUGUST,





JACK AND JILL.


me go with her and her mother when they do
their shopping, instead of leaving it to Miss Bat,
who dresses me like an old woman. Merry knows
what is pretty and becoming; I don't," thought
Molly, meditating in the bushel basket, with her
eyes on her snuff-colored gown and the dark pur-
ple bow at the end of the long braid Muffet had
been playing with.
Molly was beginning to see that even so small a
matter as the choice of colors made a difference in
one's appearance, and to wonder why Merry always
took such pains to have a blue tie for the gray
dress, a rosy one for the brown, and gloves that
matched her bonnet ribbons. Merry never wore a
locket outside her sack, a gay bow in her hair and
soiled cuffs, a smart hat and the braid worn off her
skirts. She was exquisitely neat and simple, yet
always looked well-dressed and pretty; for her
love of beauty taught her what all -girls should
learn as soon as they begin to care for appearances,
-that neatness and simplicity are their best orna-
ments, that good habits are better than fine
clothes, and the most elegant manners are the
kindest.
All these thoughts were dancing through Molly's
head, and when she left her cats, after a general
romp in which even decorous Granny allowed her
family to play leap-frog over her respectable back,
she had made up her mind not to have yellow
ribbons on her summer hat if she got a pink mus-
lin, as she had planned, but to finish off Boo's last
shirt before she went shopping with Merry.
It rained that evening, and Mr. Bemis had a
headache, so he threw himself down upon the
lounge after tea, for a nap, with his silk handker-
chief spread over his face. He did get a nap, and
when he waked he lay for a time drowsily listening
to the patter of the rain, and another sound which
was even more soothing. Putting back a corner
of the handkerchief to learn what it was, he saw
Molly sitting by the fire with Boo in her lap, rock-
ing and humming as she warmed his little bare
feet, having learned to guard against croup by
attending to the damp shoes and socks before
going to bed. Boo lay with his round face turned
up to hers, stroking her cheek, while the sleepy
blue eyes blinked lovingly at her as she sang her
lullaby with a motherly patience sweet to see.
They made a pretty little picture, and Mr. Bemis
looked at it with pleasure, having a leisure moment
in which to discover, as all parents do, sooner or
later, that his children were growing up.
Molly is getting to be quite a woman, and
very like her mother," thought papa, wiping the
eye that peeped, for he had been fond of the pretty
wife who died when Boo was born. Sad loss to
them, poor things! But Miss Bat seems to have


done well by them. Molly is much improved, and
the boy looks finely. She 's a good soul after all;"
and Mr. Bemis began to think he had been hasty
when he half made up his mind to get a new
housekeeper, feeling that burnt steak, weak coffee
and ragged wristbands were sure signs that Miss
Bat's days of usefulness were over.
Molly was singing the lullaby her mother used
to sing to her, and her father listened to it silently,
till Boo was carried away too sleepy for anything
but bed. When she came back she sat down to
her work, fancying her father still asleep. She
had a crimson bow at her throat and one on the
newly braided hair, her cuffs were clean, and a
white apron hid the shabbiness of the old dress.
She looked like a thrifty little housewife as she sat
with her basket beside her, full of neat white rolls,
her spools set forth, and a new pair of scissors
shining on the table. There was a sort of charm
in watching the busy needle flash to and fro, the
anxious pucker of the forehead as she looked to see
if the stitches were even, and the expression of
intense relief upon her face as she surveyed the
finished button-hole with girlish satisfaction. Her
father was wide awake and looking at her, think-
ing, as he did so:
Really the old lady has worked well to change
my tomboy into that nice little girl: I wonder how
she did it." Then he gave a yawn, pulled off the
handkerchief, and said, aloud, "What are you
making, Molly ? for it struck him that sewing was
a new amusement.
Shirts for Boo, sir. Four, and this is the last,"
she answered, with pardonable pride, as she held
it up and nodded toward the pile in her basket.
Is n't that a new notion? I thought Miss Bat
did the sewing," said Mr. Bemis, as he smiled at
the funny little garment, it looked so like Boo him-
self.
"No, sir; only yours. I do mine and Boo's.
At least, I 'm learning how, and Mrs. Pecq says I
get on nicely," answered Molly, threading her
needle and'making a knot in her most capable
way.
I suppose it is time you did learn, for you are
getting to be a great girl, and all women should
know how to make and mend. You must take a
stitch f6r me now and then: Miss Bat's eyes are
not what they were, I find; and Mr. Bemis looked
at his frayed wristband, as if he particularly felt the
need of a stitch just then.
I 'd love to, and I guess I could. I can mend
gloves; Merry taught me, so I 'd better begin on
them, if you have any," said Molly, much pleased
at being able to do anything for her father, and
still more so at being asked.
"There 's something to start with:" and he


773


1880.1






JACK AND JILL.


threw her a pair, with nearly every one of the
fingers ripped.
Molly shook her head over them, but got out her
gray silk and fell to work, glad to show 'how well
she could sew.
"What are you smiling about?" asked her
father, after a little pause, for his head felt better,
and it amused him to question Molly.
I was thinking about my summer clothes. I
must get them before long, and I'd like to go with
Mrs. Grant and learn how to shop, if you are
willing."
I thought Miss Bat did that for you."
"She always has, but she buys ugly, cheap
things that I don't like. I think I am old enough
to choose for myself, if there is some one to tell me
about prices and the goodness of the stuff. Merry
does; and she is only a few months older than I
am."
"How old are you, child?" asked her father,
feeling as if he had lost his reckoning.
"Fifteen in August;" and Molly looked very
proud of the fact.
"So you are! Bless my heart, how the time
goes Well, get what you please; if I 'm to have
a young lady here, I 'd like to have her prettily
dressed. It wont offend Miss Bat, will it?"
Molly's eyes sparkled, but she gave a little shrug
as she answered, "She wont care. She never
troubles herself about me if I let her alone."
"Hey? What? Not trouble herself? If she
does n't, who does?" and Mr. Bemis sat up as if
this discovery was more surprising than the other.
I take care of myself and Boo, and she looks
after you. The house goes any way."
I should think so I nearly broke my neck
over the parlor sofa in the hall to-night. What is
it there for ?"
Molly laughed. That 's the joke, sir; Miss
Bat is cleaning house, and I'm sure it needs clean-
ing, for it is years since it was properly done. I
thought you might have told her to."
I 've said nothing. Don't like house-cleaning
well enough to suggest it. I did think the hall
was rather dirty when I dropped my coat, and took
it up covered with lint. Is she going to upset the
whole place ?" asked Mr. Bemis, looking alarmed
at the prospect.
I hope so, for I really am ashamed, when peo-
ple come, to have them see the dust and cobwebs,
and old carpets and dirty windows," said Molly,
with a sigh, though she never had cared a bit till
lately.
"Why don't you dust around a little, then? No
time to spare from the books and play ? "
I tried, father, but Miss Bat did n't like it, and
it was too hard for me alone. If things were once


in nice order, I think I could keep them so; for I
do want to be neat, and I 'm learning as fast as I
can."
It is high time some one took hold, if matters
are left as you say. I 've just been thinking what
a clever woman Miss Bat was, to make such a tidy
little girl out of what I used to hear called the
greatest tomboy in town, and wondering what I
could give the old lady. Now I find you are the
one to be thanked, and it is a very pleasant sur-
prise to me."
Give her the present, please; I'm satisfied, if
you like what I 've done. It is n't much, and I
did n't know as you would ever observe any differ-
ence. But I did try, and now I guess I 'm really
getting on," said Molly, sewing away with a bright
color in her cheeks, for she, too, found it a pleas-
ant surprise to be praised, after many failures and
few successes.
You certainly are, my dear. I '11 wait till the
house-cleaning is over, and then, if we are all
alive, I '11 see about Miss Bat's reward. Meantime,
you go with Mrs. Grant and get whatever you and
the boy need, and send the bills to me; and Mr.
Bemis lighted a cigar, as if that matter was settled.
"Oh, thank you, sir! That will be splendid.
Merry always has pretty things, and I know you
will like me when I get fixed," said Molly, smooth-
ing down her apron, with a little air.
Seems to me you look very well as you are.
Is n't that a pretty enough frock?" asked Mr.
Bemis, quite unconscious that his own unusual
interest in his daughter's affairs made her look so
bright and winsome.
This? Why, father, I've worn it all winter,
and it's j. '.."' ugly, and almost in rags. I
asked you for a new one a month ago, and you
said you'd 'see about it'; but you did n't, so I
patched this up as well as I could; and Molly
showed her elbows, feeling that such masculine
blindness as this deserved a mild reproof.
"Too bad! Well, go and get half a dozen
pretty muslin and gingham things, and be as gay
as a butterfly, to make up for it," laughed her
father, really touched by the patches and Molly's
resignation to the uncertain "I 'll see about it,"
which he recognized as a household word.
Molly clapped her hands, old gloves and all, ex-
claiming, with girlish delight, "How nice it will
seem to have a plenty of new, neat dresses all at
once, and be like other girls! Miss Bat always
talks about economy, and has no more taste than
a-caterpillar." Molly meant to say "cat," but,
remembering her pets, spared them the insult.
"I think I can afford to dress my girl as well as
Grant does his. Get a new hat and coat, child, and
any little notions you fancy. Miss Bat's economy


774


[AUGUST,






JACK AND JILL.


is n't the sort I like; and Mr. Bemis looked at
his wristbands again, as if he could sympathize with
Molly's elbows.
"At this rate, I shall have more clothes than I
know what to do with, after being a rag-bag,"
thought the girl, in great glee, as she bravely
stitched away at the worst glove, while her father
smoked silently for a while, feeling that several little
matters had escaped his eye which he really ought
to see about."
Presently he went to his desk, but not to bury
himself in business papers, as usual, for, after
rummaging in several drawers, he took out a small
bunch of keys, and sat looking at them with an
expression only seen on his face when he looked up
at the portrait of a dark-eyed woman hanging in
his room. He was a very busy man, but he had a
tender place in his heart for his children; and when
a look, a few words, a moment's reflection called
his attention to the fact that his little girl was
growing up, he found both pride and pleasure in
the thought that this young daughter was trying
to fill her mother's place, and be a comfort to him,
if he would let her.
Molly, my dear, here is something for you,"
he said; and, when she stood beside him, added, as
he put the keys into her hand, keeping both in his
own for a minute :
Those are the keys to your mother's things. I
always meant you to have them, when you were old
enough to use or care for them. I think you 'll
fancy this better than any other present, for you are
a good child, and very like her."
Something seemed to get into his throat there,
and Molly put her arm around his neck, saying,
with a little choke in her own voice, Thank you,
father; I 'd rather have this than anything else in
the world, and I '11 try to be more like her every
day, for your sake."
He kissed her, then said, as he began to stir his
papers about, "I must write some letters. Run
off to bed, child. Good-night, my dear,-good-
night."
Seeing that he wanted to be alone, Molly slipped
away, feeling that she had received a very precious
gift; for she remembered the dear, dead mother,
and had often longed to possess the relics laid away
in the one room where order reigned and Miss Bat
had no power to meddle. As she slowly undressed,
she was not thinking of the pretty new gowns in
which she was to be as gay as a butterfly," but
of the half-worn garments waiting for her hands
to unfold with a tender touch; and when she fell
asleep, with the keys.under her pillow and her arms
around Boo, a few happy tears on her cheeks seemed
to show that, in trying to do the duty which lay
nearest her, she had earned a very sweet reward.


So the little missionaries succeeded better in their
second attempt than in their first; for, though still
very far from being perfect girls, each was slowly
learning, in her own way, one of the three lessons
all are the better for knowing,-that cheerfulness can
change misfortune into love and friends; that in
ordering one's self aright one helps others to do the
same; and that the power of finding beauty in the
humblest things makes home happy and life
lovely.
CHAPTER XVIII.

MAY BASKETS.

SPRING was late that year, but to Jill it seemed
the loveliest she had ever known, for hope was grow-
ing green and strong in her own little heart, and
all the world looked beautiful. With the help of
the brace she could sit up for a short time every
day, and when the air was mild enough she was
warmly wrapped and allowed to look out at the
open window into the garden, where the gold and
purple crocuses were coming bravely up, and the
snowdrops nodded their delicate heads, as if calling
to her:
Good day, little sister; come out and play with
us, for winter is over and spring is here."
I wish I could thought Jill, as the soft wind
kissed a tinge of color into her pale cheeks.
" Never mind,-they have been shut up in a darker
place than I for months, and had no fun at all; I
wont fret, but think about July and the sea-shore
while I work."
The job now in hand was May baskets, for it was
the custom of the children to hang them on the
doors of their friends the night before May-day;
and the girls had agreed to supply baskets if the
boys would hunt for flowers, much the harder task
of the two. Jill had more leisure as well as taste
and skill than the other girls, so. she amused her-
self with making a goodly store of pretty baskets of
all shapes, sizes and colors, quite confident that
they would be filled, though not a flower had shown
its head except a few hardy dandelions, and here
and there a few small clusters of saxifrage.
The violets would not open their blue eyes till
the sunshine was warmer, the columbines refused
to dance with the boisterous east wind, the ferns
kept themselves rolled up in their brown flannel
jackets, and little Hepatica, with many another
spring beauty, hid away in the woods, afraid to
venture out, in spite of the eager welcome awaiting
them. But the birds had come, punctual as
ever, and the blue jays were screaming in the
orchard, robins were perking up their heads and
tails as they went house-hunting, purple thrushes in
their little red hoods were feasting on the spruce-


i88o.1


775






JACK AND JILL.


buds, and the faithful "chip birds" chirped gayly
on the grape-vine trellis where they had lived all
winter, warming their little gray breasts against
the southern side of the house when the sun shone,
and hiding under the evergreen boughs when the
snow fell.
That tree is a sort of bird's hotel," said Jill,
looking out at the tall spruce before her window,
every spray now tipped with a soft green. "They all
go there to sleep and eat, and it has room for every
one. It is green when other trees die, the wind
can't break it, and the snow only makes it look
prettier. It sings to me, and nods as if it knew I
loved it."
"We might call it 'The Holly-tree Inn,' as
some of the cheap eating-houses for poor people
are called in the city, as my holly-bush grows at its
foot for a sign. You can be the landlady, and feed
your feathery customers every day, till the hard
times are over," said Mrs. Minot, glad to see the
child's enjoyment of the outer world from which
she had been shut so long.
Jill liked the fancy, and gladly strewed crumbs
on the window-ledge for the chippies, who came
confidingly to eat almost from her hand. She
threw out grain for the handsome jays, the jaunty
robins, and the neighbors' doves, who came with
soft flight to trip about on their pink feet, arching
their shining necks as they cooed and pecked.
Carrots and cabbage-leaves also flew out of the
window for the marauding gray rabbit, last of all
Jack's half-dozen, who led him a weary life of it
because they would not stay in the Bunny-house,
but undermined the garden with their burrows, ate
the neighbors' plants, and refused to be caught, till
all but one ran away, to Jack's great relief. This
old fellow camped out for the winter, and seemed
to get on very well among the cats and the hens, who
shared their stores with him, and he might be seen
at all hours of the day and night scampering about
the place, or kicking up his heels by moonlight, for
he was a desperate poacher.
Jill took great delight in her pretty pensioners,
who soon learned to love "The Holly-tree Inn,"
and to feel that the Bird-Room held a caged com-
rade; for, when it was too cold or wet to open the
windows, the doves came and tapped at the pane,
the chippies sat on the ledge in plump little bunches
as if she were their sunshine, the jays called her in
their shrill voices to ring the dinner-bell, and the
robins tilted on the spruce-boughs, where lunch was
always to be had.
The first of May came on Sunday, so all the cele-
brating must be done on Saturday, which happily
proved fair, though too chilly for muslin gowns,
paper garlands, and picnics on damp grass. Itbeing
a holiday, the boys decided to devote the morning


to ball and the afternoon to the flower hunt, while
the girls finished the baskets; and in the evening
our particular seven were to meet at the Minots to
fill them, ready for the closing frolic of hanging on
door-handles, ringing bells, and running away.
Now, I must do my Maying, for there will be
no more sunshine, and I want to pick my flowers
before it is dark. Come, mammy, you go too,"
said Jill, as the last sunbeams shone in at the
western window, where her hyacinths stood that no
fostering ray might be lost.
It was rather pathetic to see the once merry girl,
who used to be the life of the wood-parties, now
carefully lifting herself from the couch, and, lean-
ing on her mother's strong arm, slowly take the
half-dozen steps that made up her little expedition.
But she was happy, and stood smiling out at old
Bun skipping down the walk, the gold-edged
clouds that drew apart so that a sunbeam might
give her a good-night kiss as she gathered her
long-cherished daisies, primroses and hyacinths to
fill the pretty basket in her hand.
"Whom is it for, my dearie ? asked her mother,
standing behind her as a prop, while the thin fin-
gers did their work so willingly that not a flower
was left.
For My Lady, of course. Whom else would I
give my posies to, when I love them so well?"
answered Jill, who thought no name too fine for
their best friend.
I fancied it would be for Master Jack," said
her mother, wishing the excursion to be a cheerful
one.
I 've another for him, but she must have the
prettiest. He is going to hang it for me, and ring
and run away, and she wont know who it's from
till she sees this. She will remember this, for I 've
been turning and tending it ever so long, to make
it bloom to-day. Is n't it a beauty ?" and Jill held
up her finest hyacinth, which seemed to ring its
pale pink bells as if glad to carry its sweet message
from a grateful little heart.
Indeed it is; and you are right to give your
best to her. Come away, now-you must not stay
any longer. Come and rest, while I fetch a dish to
put the flowers in till you want them; and Mrs.
Pecq turned her round with her small Maying
safely done.
I did n't think I 'd ever be able to do even so
much, and here I am walking and sitting up, and
going to drive some day. Is n't it nice that I 'm
not to be a poor Lucinda, after all? and Jill drew
a long sigh of relief that six months instead of
twenty years would probably be the end of her
captivity.
"Yes, thank Heaven! I don't think I could
have borne that; and the mother took Jill in her


776


[AUGUST,







JACK AND JILL.


arms as if she were a baby, holding her close for a
minute, and laying her down with a tender kiss
that made the arms cling about her neck as her
little girl returned it heartily, for all sorts of new,
-sweet feelings seemed to be budding in both, born
of great joy and thankfulness.
Then Mrs. Pecq hurried away to see about tea
for the hungry boys, and Jill watched the pleasant


JILLS MAKING.


twilight deepen as she lay singing to herself one of
the songs her wise friend had taught her because
it fitted her so well:
"A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there:
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
Because, my God, it pleases Thee!
Naught have I else to do;
I sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please
Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound my wandering wing,
But still He bends to hear me sing."

Now we are ready for you, so bring on your
flowers," said Molly to the boys, as she and Merry
added their store of baskets to the gay show Jill
had set forth on the long table, ready for the
evening's work.
"They would n't let me see one, but I guess
they have had good luck, they look so jolly,"
VOL. VII.-51.


answered Jill, looking at Gus, Frank and Jack,
who stood, laughing, each with a large basket in
his hands.
Fair to middling. Just look in and see;"
with which cheerful remark Gus tipped up his
basket and displayed a few bits of green at the
bottom.
I did better. Now, don't all scream at once
over these beauties; and Frank shook out some
evergreen sprigs, half a dozen saxifrages, and two
or three forlorn violets with hardly any stems.
I don't brag, but here 's the best of all the
three," chuckled Jack, producing a bunch of
feathery carrot-tops, with.a few half-shut dande-
lions trying to look brave and gay.
"Oh, boys! Is that all?"
"What shall we do ?"
"We've only a few house-flowers, and all those
baskets to fill!" cried the girls, in despair; for
Merry's contribution had been small, and Molly
had only a handful of artificial flowers, to fill up,"
she said.
"It is n't our fault: it is the late spring. We
can't make flowers, can we ?" asked Frank, in a
tone of calm resignation.
"Could n't you buy some, then ?" said Molly,
smoothing her crumpled morning-glories, with a
sigh.
Who ever heard of a fellow having any money
left the last day of the month ?" demanded Gus,
severely.
Or girls, either. I spent all mine in ribbon
and paper for my baskets, and now they are of no
use. It's a shame lamented Jill, while Merry
began to thin out her full baskets to fill the empty
ones.
Hold on!" cried Frank, relenting. "Now,
Jack, make their minds easy before they begin to
weep and wail."
Left the box outside. You tell while I go for
it;" and Jack bolted, as if afraid the young ladies
might be too demonstrative when the tale was
told.
Tell away,' said Frank, modestly passing the
story along to Gus, who made short work of it.
"We rampaged all over the country, and got
only that small mess of greens. Knew you'd be
disgusted, and sat down to see what we could do.
Then Jack piped up, and said he'd show us a place
where we could get a plenty. Come on,' said we,
and, after leading us a nice tramp, he brought us
out at Morse's greenhouse. So we got a few on
tick, as we had but four cents among us, and there
you are. Pretty clever of the little chap, was n't
it ?"
A chorus of delight greeted Jack as he popped
his head in, was promptly seized by his elders and


t88o.]


777







JACK. AND JILL.


walked up to the table, where the box was opened,
displaying gay posies enough to fill most of the
baskets, if distributed with great economy and much
green.
"You are the dearest boy that ever was!"
began. Jill, with her nose luxuriously buried in the
box, though the flowers were more remarkable for
color than perfume.
"No, I 'm not; there's a much dearer one
coming upstairs now, and he's got something that
will make you howl for joy," said Jack, ignoring
his own prowess as Ed came in with a bigger box,
looking as if he had done nothing but go a-Maying
all his days.
Don't believe it! cried Jill, hugging her own
treasure jealously.
"It 's only another joke. I wont look," said
Molly, still struggling to make her cambric roses
bloom again.
I know what it is Oh, how sweet!" added
Merry, sniffing, as Ed set the box before her, say-
ing, pleasantly:
You shall see first, because you had faith."
Up went the cover, and a whiff of the freshest
fragrance regaled the seven eager noses bent to
inhale it, as a general murmur of pleasure greeted
the nest of great rosy May-flowers that lay before
them.
"The dear things, how lovely they are!" and
Merry looked as if greeting her cousins, so bloom-
ing and sweet was her own face.
Molly pushed her dingy garlands away, ashamed
of such poor attempts beside these perfect works of
Nature, while Jill stretched out her hand involun-
tarily, and said, forgetting her exotics, Give me
just one to smell-it is so woodsy and delicious."
"Here you are-plenty for all. Real Pilgrim
Fathers, right from Plymouth. One of our fellows
lives there, and I told him to bring me a good lot;
so he did, and you can do what you like with
them," explained Ed, passing around bunches, and
shaking the rest in a mossy pile upon the table.
Ed always gets ahead of us in doing the right
thing at the right time. Hope you've got some
first-class baskets ready for him," said Gus, refresh-
ing the Washingtonian nose with a pink blossom
or two.
Not much danger of his being forgotten,"
answered Molly; and every one laughed, for Ed
was much beloved by all the girls,.and his door-
steps. always bloomed like a flower-bed on May
eve.
"Now we must fly around and fill up. Come,
boys, sort out the green and hand us the flowers as
we want them. Then we must direct them, and,
by the time that is done, you can go and leave
them," said Jill, setting all to work.


"Ed must choose his baskets first. These are-
ours; but any of those you can have; and Molly
pointed to a detachment of gay baskets, set aside-
from those already partly filled.
Ed chose a blue one, and Merry filled it with the-
rosiest May-flowers, knowing that it was to hang
on Mabel's door-handle.
The others did the same, and the pretty work
went on, with much fun, till all were filled, andi
ready for the names or notes.
"Let us have poetry, as we can't get wildc
flowers. That will be rather fine," proposed Jill,
who liked jingles.
All had had some practice at the game parties,.
and pencils went briskly for a few minutes, while
silence reigned, as the poets racked their brains for
rhymes, and stared at the blooming array before-
them for inspiration.
"Oh, dear! I can't find a word to rhyme to.
'geranium,' sighed Molly, pulling her braid, as.
if to pump the well of her fancy dry.
Cranium," said Frank, who was getting on,
bravely with "Annette" and "violet."
That is :elegant and Molly scribbled away in
great glee, for her poems were always funny ones.
"How do you spell anemoly,-the wild flower, I
mean ?" asked Jill, who was trying to compose a
very appropriate piece for her best basket, and
found it easier to feel love and gratitude than to put
them into verse.
"Anemone; do spell it properly, or you'11 get
laughed at," answered Gus, wildly struggling to,
make his lines express great ardor, without being
"too spooney," as he expressed it.
"No, I should n't. This person never laughs at
other persons' mistakes, as some persons do,'
replied Jill, with dignity.
Jack was desperately chewing his pencil, for he-
could not get on at all; but Ed had evidently pre-
pared his poem, for his paper was half full already,
and Merry was smiling as she wrote a friendly line-
or two for Ralph's basket, for she feared he would
be forgotten, and knew he loved kindness even.
more than beauty.
"Now let's read them," proposed Molly, who
loved to laugh, even at herself.
The boys politely declined, and scrambled their
notes into the chosen baskets in great haste; but
the girls were less bashful. Jill was invited to.
begin, and gave her little piece, with the pink hya-
cinth basket before her, to illustrate her poem.

TO MY LADY.
"There are no flowers in the fields,
No green leaves on the tree,
No columbines, no violets,
No sweet anemone.
So I have gathered from my pots


778


[AUGUSTS.







JACK AND JILL.


All that I have, to fill
The basket that I hang to-night,
With heaps of love from Jill."

"That's perfectly sweet! Mine isn't; but I
meant it to be funny," said Molly, as if there
could be any doubt about the following ditty:

Dear Grif,
Here is a whiff
Of beautiful spring flowers;
The big red rose
Is for your nose,
As toward the sky it towers.
"Oh, do not frown
Upon this crown
Of green pinks and blue geranium,
But think of me
When this you see,
And put it on your cranium."

Oh, Molly, you '11 never hear the last of that,
if Grif gets it," said Jill, as the applause subsided,
for the boys pronounced it "tip-top."
Don't care-he gets the worst of it, any way,
for there is a pin in that rose, and if he goes to
smell the May-flowers underneath he will find a
thorn to pay for the tack he put in my rubber-boot.
I know he will play me some joke to-night, and I
mean to be first if I can," answered Molly, settling
the artificial wreath around the orange-colored
canoe which held her effusion.
Now, Merry, read yours: you always have
sweet poems; and Jill folded her hands to listen
with pleasure to something sentimental.
I can't read the poems in some of mine, be-
cause they are for you; but this little verse you can
hear, if you like: I 'm going to give that basket to
Ralph. He said he should hang one for his grand-
mother, and I thought that was so nice of him, I 'd
love to surprise him with one all to himself. He 's
always so good to us; and Merry looked so in-
nocently earnest that no one smiled at her kind
thought or the unconscious paraphrase she had
made of a famous stanza in her own "little verse" :

"To one who teaches me
The sweetness and the beauty
Of doing faithfully
And cheerfully my duty."

"He will like that, and know who seit it, for
none of us has pretty pink paper but you, or writes
such an elegant hand," said Molly, admiring the
delicate white basket shaped like a lily, with the
flowers inside and the note hidden among them,
all daintily tied up with the palest blush-colored
ribbon.
Well,. that's no harm. He likes pretty things
as much as I do, and I made my basket like a
flower because I gave.him one of my callas, he
admired the shape so much; and Merry smiled


as she remembered how pleased Ralph looked
when he went away carrying the lovely thing.
I think it would be a good plan to hang some
baskets on the doors of other people who don't ex-
pect or often have any. I '11 do it if you can spare
some of these-we have so many. Give me only
one, and let the others go to old Mrs. Tucker, and
the little Irish girl who has been sick so long, and
lame Neddy, and Daddy Munson. It would please
and surprise them so. Shall we?" asked Ed, in
that persuasive voice of his.
All agreed at once, and several people were
made very happy by a bit of spring left at their
doors by the May elves who haunted the town that
night, playing all sorts of pranks. Such a twang-
ing of bells and rapping of knockers; such a
scampering of feet in the dark; such droll collisions
as boys came racing around corners, or girls flopped
into one another's arms as they crept up and
down steps on the sly; such laughing, whistling,
flying about of flowers and friendly feeling,-it was
almost a pity that May-day did not come oftener.
Molly got home late, and found that Grif had
been before her, after all; for she stumbled over a
market-basket at her door, and, on taking it in,
found a mammoth nosegay of purple and white
cabbages, her favorite vegetable. Even Miss Bat
laughed at the funny sight, and Molly resolved to
get Ralph to carve her a bouquet out of carrots,
beets and turnips, for next time, as Grif would
never think of that.
Merry ran up the garden-walk alone, for Frank left
her at the gate, and she was fumbling for the latch
when she felt something hanging there. Opening
the door carefully, she found it gay with offerings
from her mates; and among them was one long,
quiver-shaped basket of birch-bark, with something
heavy under the green leaves that lay at the top.
Lifting these, a slender bass-relief of a calla in
plaster appeared, with this couplet slipped into the
blue cord by which it was to hang:

That mercy you to others show
That Mercy Grant to me."

How lovely And this one will never fade, but
always be a pleasure hanging there. Now, I
really have something beautiful all my own," said
Merry to herself as she ran up to hang the pretty
thing on the dark wainscot of her room, where the
graceful curve of its pointed leaves and the depth
of its white cup would be a joy to her eyes as long
as they lasted.
I wonder what that means," and Merry read
over the lines again, while a soft color came into
her cheeks and a little smile of girlish pleasure
began to dimple around her lips; for she was so
romantic, this touch of sentiment showed her that


1880.]


779r








780 JACK AND JILL. I AUGUST,


her friendship was more valued than she dreamed.
But she only said: How glad I am I remembered
him, and how surprised he will be to see May-
flowers in return for the calla."
He was, and he worked away more happily and
bravely for the thought of the little friend whose
eyes would daily fall on the white flower which
always reminded him of her.

CHAPTER XIX.

GOOD TEMPLARS.

"HI, there! Bell's rung! Get up, lazy-bones "
called Frank from his room, as the clock struck six
one bright morning, and a great creaking and
stamping proclaimed that he was astir.
"All right, I 'm coming," responded a drowsy
voice, and Jack turned over as if to obey; but
there the effort ended, and he was off again, for
growing lads are hard to rouse, as many a mother
knows to her sorrow.
Frank made a beginning on his own toilet, and
then took a look at his brother, for the stillness
was suspicious.
I thought so He told me to wake him, and I
guess this will do it; and, filling his great sponge
with water, Frank stalked into the next room and
stood over the unconscious victim like a stern exe-
cutioner, glad to unite business with pleasure in
this agreeable manner.
A woman would have relented and tried some
milder means, for when his broad shoulders and
stout limbs were hidden, Jack looked very young
and innocent in his sleep. Even Frank paused a
moment to look at the round, rosy face, the curly
eyelashes, half-open mouth, and the peaceful
expression of a dreaming baby. I must do it, or
he wont be ready for breakfast," said the Spartan
brother, and down came the sponge, cold, wet and
choky, as it was briskly rubbed to and fro, regard-
less of every obstacle.
"Come, I say! That 's not fair Leave me
alone sputtered Jack, hitting out so vigorously
that the sponge flew across the room, and Frank
fell back to laugh at the indignant sufferer.
I promised to wake you, and you believe in
keeping promises, so I 'm doing my best to get
you up."
"Well, you need n't pour a quart of water
down a fellow's neck, and rub his nose off, need
you? I 'm awake, so take your old sponge and go
along," growled Jack, with one eye open and a
mighty gape.
See that you keep so, then, or I '11 come and
give you another sort of a rouser," said Frank,
retiring, well pleased with his success.


I shall have one good stretch, if I like. It is
strengthening to the muscles, and I 'm as stiff
as a board with- all that foot-ball yesterday,"
murmured Jack, lying down for one delicious mo-
ment. He shut the open eye to enjoy it thor-
oughly, and forgot the stretch altogether, for the
bed was warm, the pillow soft, and a half-finished
dream still hung about his drowsy brain. Who
does not know the fatal charm of that stolen mo-
ment-for once yield to it, and one is lost!
Jack was miles away "in the twinkling of a
bed-post," and the pleasing dream seemed about
to return, when a ruthless hand tore off the
clothes, swept him out of bed, and he really did
awake to find himself standing in the middle of
his bath-pan, with both windows open, and Frank
about to pour a pail of water over him.
Hold on! Yah, how cold the water is! Why,
I thought I was up;" and, hopping out, Jack
rubbed his eyes and looked about with such a
genuine surprise that Frank put down the pail,
feeling that the deluge would not be needed this
time.
You are, now, and I '11 see that you keep so,"
he said, as he stripped the bed and carried off the
pillows.
"I don't care. What a jolly day !" and Jack
took a little promenade to finish the rousing
process.
"You 'd better hurry up, or you won't get your
chores done before breakfast. No time for a go
as you please' now," said Frank; and both boys
laughed, for it was an old joke of theirs, and
rather funny.
Going up to bed one night expecting to find
Jack asleep, Frank discovered him tramping round
and round the room airily attired in a towel, and
so dizzy with his brisk revolutions that, as his
brother looked, he tumbled over and lay panting
like a fallen gladiator.
What on earth are you about ?"
"Playing Rowell. Walking for the belt, and
I've got it, too," laughed Jack, pointing to an old
gilt chandelier-chain hanging on the bed-post.
You little noodle! You 'd better revolve into
bed before you lose your head entirely. I never
saw such a fellow for taking himself off his legs."
Well, if I did n't exercise, do you suppose I
should be able to do that-or that ? cried Jack,
turning a somersault and striking a fine attitude
as he came up, flattering himself that he was the
model of a youthful athlete.
You look more like a clothes-pin than a Her-
cules," was the crushing reply of this unsym-
pathetic brother, and Jack meekly retired with a
bad headache.
I don't do such silly things now; I 'm as


780


JACK AND JILL.


(AUGUST,







JACK AND JILL.


broad across the shoulders as you are, and twice
as strong on my pins, thanks to my gymnastics.
Bet you a cent I '11 be dressed first, though you
have got the start," said Jack, knowing that Frank
always had a protracted wrestle with his collar-but-
tons, which gave his adversary a great advantage
over him.
"Done answered Frank, and at it they
went. A wild scramble was heard in Jack's room,
and a steady tramp in the other, as Frank worked
away at the stiff collar and the unaccommodating
button till every finger ached. A clashing of
boots followed, while Jack whistled Polly Hop-
kins," and Frank declaimed, in his deepest voice :
"Arma virumque cano, Troje qui primus ab oris
Italiam, fato profugus, Lavinaque venit
Litora."
Hair-brushes came next, and here Frank got
ahead, for Jack's thick crop would stand straight
up on the crown, and only a good wetting and a
steady brush would make it lie down.
"Play away, No. 2," called out Frank, as he
put on his vest, while Jack was still at it with a
pair of the stiffest brushes procurable for money.
"Hold hard, No. II, and don't forget your
teeth," answered Jack, who had cleaned his.
Frank took a hasty rub and whisked on his coat,
while Jack was picking up the various treasures
which had flown out of his pockets as he caught
up his roundabout.
"Ready! I '11 trouble you for a cent, sonny;"
and Frank held out his hand as he appeared
equipped for the day.
You have n't hung up your night-gown, nor
aired the bed, nor opened the windows. That's
part of the dressing-Mother said so. I 've got
you there, for you did all that for me, except this,"
and Jack threw his gown over a chair with a
triumphant flourish as Frank turned back to leave
his room in the order which they had been taught
was one of the signs of a good bringing-up in boys
as well as girls.
Ready I '11 trouble you for a cent, old man,"
and Jack held out his hand, with a chuckle.
He got the money and a good clap beside; then
they retired to the shed to black their boots, after
which Frank filled the wood-boxes and Jack split
kindlings, till the daily allowance was ready. Both
went at their lessons for half an hour, Jack scowl-
ing over his algebra in the sofa. corner, while
Frank, with his elbows on and his legs around the
little stand which held his books, seemed to be
having a wrestling-match with Herodotus.
When the bell rang, they were glad to drop the
lessons and fall upon their breakfast with the appe-
tite of wolves, especially Jack, who sequestered
oatmeal and milk with such rapidity that one would


have thought he had a leather bag hidden some-
where to slip it into, like his famous namesake
when he breakfasted with the giant.
," I declare, I don't see what he does with it!
He really ought not to gobble' so, Mother," said
Frank, who was eating with great deliberation and
propriety.
Never you mind, old quiddle. I'm so hungry
I could tuck away a bushel," answered Jack, emp-
tying a glass of milk and holding out his plate for
more mush, regardless of his white moustache.
Temperance in all things is wise, in speech as
well as eating and drinking,-remember that,
boys," said Mamma, from behind the urn.
"That reminds me! We promised to do the
Observer this week, and here it is Tuesday and
I have n't done a thing: have you? asked Frank.
Never thought of it. We must look up some
bits at noon instead of playing. Dare say Jill has
got some: she always saves all she finds for me."
I have one or two good items, and can do any
copying there may be. But I think if you under-
take the paper you should give some time and
labor to make it good," said Mamma, who was
used to this state of affairs, and often edited the
little sheet read every week at the Lodge. The
boys seldom missed going, but the busy lady was
often unable to be there, so helped with the paper
as her share of the labor.
Yes, we ought, but somehow we don't seem to
get up much steam about it lately. If more people
belonged, and we could have a grand time now
and then, it would be jolly; and Jack sighed at
the lack of interest felt by outsiders in the loyal
little Lodge, which went on year after year, kept up
by the faithful few.
I remember when, in this very town, we used
to have a cold-water army,' and in the summer
turn out with processions, banners, and bands of
music to march about, and end with a picnic,
songs and speeches in some grove or hall. Nearly
all the children belonged to it, and the parents,
also, and we' had fine times here, twenty-five or
thirty years ago."
"It did n't do much good, seems to me, for
people still drink, and we have n't a decent hotel
in the place," said Frank, as his mother sat look-
ing out of the window, .as if she saw again the
pleasant sight of old and young working together
against the great enemy of home peace and safety.
Oh, yes, it did, my dear; for to this day many
of those children are true to their pledge. One
little girl was, I am sure, and now has two big
boys to fight for the reform she has upheld all her
life. The town is better than it was in those days,
and if we each do our part faithfully, it will
improve yet more. Every boy and girl who joins


78i


z88o.j







782 JACK AND JILL. [AUGUST,


is one gained, perhaps, and your example is the
best temperance lecture you can give. Hold fast,
and don't mind if it is n't 'jolly': it is right, and
that should be enough for us."
Mamma spoke warmly, for she heartily believed
in young people's guarding against the dangerous
vice before it became a temptation, and hoped her
boys would never break the pledge they had taken;
for, young as they were, they were old enough to
see its worth, feel its wisdom, and pride themselves
on he promise which was fast growing into a prin-
ciple. Jack's face brightened as he listened, and
Frank said, with the steady look which made his
face manly:
It shall be. Now I '11 tell you what I was going
to keep as a surprise till to-night, for I wanted to
have my secret as well as. other folks. Ed and I
went up to see Bob, Sunday, and he said he 'd join
the Lodge, if they 'd have him. I 'm going to
propose him to-night."
Good! good!" cried Jack, joyfully, and Mrs.
Minot clapped her hands, for every new member
was rejoiced over by the good people, who were
not discouraged by ridicule, indifference nor oppo-
sition.
We 've got him now, for no one will object,
and it is just the thing for him. He wants to
belong somewhere, he says, and he '11 enjoy the
fun, and the good things will help him, and we will
look after him. The Captain was so pleased, and
you ought to have seen Ed's face when Bob said,
'I 'm ready, if you '11 have me.'"
Frank's own face was beaming, and Jack forgot
to gobble," he was so interested in the new con-
vert, while Mamma said, as she threw down her
napkin and took up the newspaper:
We must not forget our Observer, but have a
good one to-night in honor of the occasion. There
may be something here. Come home early at
noon, and I'll help you get your paper ready."
"I'll be here, but if you want Frank, you'd
better tell him not to dawdle over Annette's gate
half an hour," began Jack, who could not resist
teasing his dignified' brother about one of the few
foolish things he was fond of doing.
"Do you want your nose pulled?" demanded
Frank, who never would stand joking on that tender
point from his brother.
No, I don't; and if I did, you could n't do it;"
with which taunt he was off and Frank after him,
having made a futile dive at the impertinent little
nose which was turned up at him and his sweet-
heart.
Boys, boys! Not through the parlor! implored
Mamma, resigned to skirmishes, but trembling for
her piano-legs as the four stout boots pranced about
* the table and then went thundering down the hall,


through the kitchen where the fat cook cheered
them on, and Mary, the maid, tried to head off
Frank, as Jack rushed out into the garden. But
the pursuer ducked under her arm and gave chase
with all speed. Then there was a glorious race all
over the place; for both were good runners, and,
being as full of spring vigor as frisky calves, they
did astonishing things in the way of leaping fences,
dodging around corners, and making good time
down the wide walks.
But Jack's leg was not quite strong yet, and he
felt that his round nose was in danger of a venge-
ful tweak, as his breath began to give out and
Frank's long arms drew nearer and nearer to the
threatened feature. Just when he was about to
give up and meet his fate like a man, old Bunny,
who had been much excited by the race, came
scampering across the path, with such a droll skip
into the air and shake of the hind legs that Frank
had to dodge to avoid stepping on him, and to
laugh in spite of himself. This momentary check
gave Jack a chance to bolt up the back stairs and
take refuge in the Bird-Room, from the window of
which Jill had been watching the race with great
interest.
No romping was allowed there, so a truce was
made by locking little fingers, and both sat down
to get their breath.
I am to go on the piazza for an hour, by and
by, Doctor said. Would you mind carrying me
down before you go to school? You do it so nicely,
I 'm not a bit afraid," said Jill, as eager for the little
change as if it had been a long and varied journey.
Yes, indeed! Come on, Princess," answered
Jack, glad to see her so well and happy.
The boys made an arm-chair, and away she
went, for a pleasant day down-stairs. She thanked
Frank with a posy for his button-hole, well know-
ing that it would soon pass into other hands, and
he departed to join Annette. Having told Jill
about Bob, and set her to work on the Observer,
Jack kissed his mother and went whistling down
the street, a gay little bachelor, with a nod and a
smile for all he met, and no turned-up hat or jaunty
turban bobbing along beside him to delay his steps
or trouble his peace of mind.
At noon they worked on their paper, which was
a collection of items concerning temperance, cut
from newspapers, a few anecdotes, a bit of poetry,
a story, and, if possible, an original article by
the editor. Many hands made light work, and
nothing remained but a little copying, which Jill
promised to do before night. So the boys had time
for a game of foot-ball after school in the afternoon,
which they much enjoyed. As they sat resting on
the posts, Gus said:
Uncle Fred says he will give us a hay-cart


782


JACK AND JILL.


I[AGusT,






JACK AND JILL.


ride to-night, as it is moony, and after it you are
.all to come to our house and have games."
Can't do it," answered Frank, sadly.
Lodge," groaned Jack, for both considered a
.drive in the cart, where they all sat in a merry
'bunch among the hay, one of the joys of life, and
much regretted that a prior engagement would
prevent their sharing in it.
That's a pity I forgot it was Tuesday, and
-can't put it off, as I've asked all the rest. Give up
-your old Lodge and come along," said Gus, who
thad not joined yet.


JILL TAKES A RIDE IN THE OPEN AIR.


783


want to be Good Templars, and we must n't
shirk," added Jack, following his brother.
"Better come. Can't put it off. Lots of fun,"
called Gus, disappointed at losing two of his favor-
ite mates.
But the boys did not turn back, and as they
went steadily away they felt that they were doing
their little part in the good work, and making
their small sacrifices, like faithful members.
They got their reward, however, for at home
they found Mr. Chauncey, a good and great man,
from England, who had known their grandfather,
and was an honored friend
.- of the family. The boys
------ loved to hear him talk, and
all tea-time listened with
-- interest to the conversation,
- --_- for Mr. Chauncey was a


-- --
---;~---.
..
t ,-~c~---------~
i .I;:-. ------;=--~
--


We might for once, perhaps, but I don't like give them a lecture at their Lodge or in public,
to "-began Jack, hesitating. whichever they like; and I wish you God-speed,
I won't. Who's to propose Bob, if we don't ? dear boys."
I want to go, awfully; but I would n't disappoint Two prouder lads never walked the streets than
Bob for a good deal, now he is willing to come." Frank and Jack, as they hurried away, nearly for-
And Frank sprang off his post as if anxious to flee getting the poor little paper in their haste to tell
temptation, for it was very pleasant to go singing the good news; for it was seldom that such an
up hill and down dale, in the spring moonlight, offer was made the Lodge, and they felt the honor
-with-well, the fellows of his set. done them as bearers of it.
"Nor Ed; I forgot-that. No; wecan't go. We As the secrets of the association cannot be


Z880.]


-L
;-;------
-L-~-----~----~


reformer as well as a famous
clergyman, and it was like
inspiring music to hear him
tell about the world's work,
and the brave men and
women who were carrying
it on. Eager to show that
they had, at least, begun,
the boys told him about
their Lodge, and were im-
mensely pleased when their
guest took.from his pocket-
book a worn paper, proving
that he, too, was a Good
Templar, and belonged to
the same army as they did.
Nor was that all, for when
they reluctantly excused
themselves, Mr. Chauncey
gave each a hearty grip,"
and said, holding their
hands in his, as he smiled
at the young faces looking
up at him with so much
love and honor in them :
"Tell the brothers and
sisters that, if I can serve
them in any way while here,
to command me. I will






THE MAKING OF THE HUMMING-BIRD.


divulged to the uninitiated, we can only say that
there was great rejoicing over the new member,
for Bob was unanimously welcomed, and much
gratitude both felt and expressed for Mr. Chaun-
cey's interest in this small division of the grand
army; for these good folk met with little sympa-
thy from the great people of the town, and it was
very cheering to have a well-known and much-
beloved man say a word for them. All agreed
that the lecture should be public, that others might
share the pleasure with them, and perhaps be
converted by a higher eloquence than any they
possessed.
So the services that night were unusually full
of spirit and good cheer; for all felt the influence
of a friendly word, the beauty of a fine example.
The paper was much applauded, the songs were
very hearty, and when Frank, whose turn it was
to be chaplain, read the closing prayer, every one
felt that they had much to give thanks for, since
one more had joined them, and the work was
slowly getting on with unexpected helpers sent to
lend a hand. The lights shone out from the little
hall across the street, the music reached the ears
of passers-by, and the busy hum of voices up
there told how faithfully some, at least, of the
villagers tried to make the town a safer place for
their boys to grow up in, though the tavern still
had its private bar and the saloon-door stood open
to invite them in.
There are many such quiet Lodges, and in them
many young people learning, as these lads were
learning, something of the duty they owe their
neighbors as well as themselves, and being fitted
to become good men and sober citizens by practic-
ing and preaching the law and gospel of temper-
ance.
The next night, Mr. Chauncey lectured, and the
town turned out to hear the distinguished man,


who not only told them of the crime and misery
produced by the terrible vice, which afflicted both
England and America, but of the great crusade
against it going on everywhere, and the need of
courage, patience, hard work and much faith, that
in time it might be overcome. Strong and cheer-
ful words that all liked to hear and many heartily
believed, especially the young Templars, whose
boyish fancies were won by the idea of fighting, as
knights of old fought, in the famous crusades they
read about in their splendid new young folks'
edition of Froissart.
We can't pitch into people as the Red Cross
fellows did, but we can smash rum-jugs when we
get the chance, and stand by our flag as our men
did in the war," said Frank, with sparkling eyes,
as they went home in the moonlight arm in arm,
keeping step behind Mr. Chauncey, who led the
way with their mother on his arm, a martial figure
though a minister, and a good captain to follow, as
the boys felt after hearing his stirring words.
"Let's try and get up a company of boys like
those Mother told us about, and show people that
we mean what we say. I'll be color-bearer, and
you may drill us as much as you like. A real
'Cold-Water Army,' with flags flying, and drums,
and all sorts of larks," said Jack, much excited,
and taking a dramatic view of the matter.
"We'll see about it. Something ought to be
done, and perhaps we shall be the men to do it
when the time comes," answered Frank, feeling
ready to shoulder a musket or be a minute-man in
good earnest.
Boyish talk and enthusiasm, but it was of the
right sort; and when time and training should
have fitted them to bear arms, these high-spirited
young knights would be worthy to put on the red
cross and ride away to help right the wrongs and
slay the dragons that afflict the world.
(To be continuedd)


THE MAKING OF THE HUMMING-BIRD.
(An Indian Legend.)

BY ANNIE A. PRESTON.


A BIRD and a bee, in the fresh April weather,
Sailed blithely to meet the first summer to-
gether.
'T was a very small bird, and a very large bee,
And they talked as they flew, and they could n't
agree
As to which of the two should first greet the sweet
summer,


All at once a black wind-storm dropped down
from the skies,
And it took this small, quarreling pair by surprise.
It whirled them about, until, drenched and half-dead,
They both tumbled into a violet-bed.
When the sun shone again-(this is what I have
heard)-
That bird was a bee, and that bee was a bird;


The bright-plumaged bird or the busy young And only one creature went humming away,
hummer. Dipping into the flower-cups, that fresh April day.


784


[AUGUST,.






X88o.1


THE WHALE SMILES. [SEE PAGE 788.]


ONCE upon a time, long, long ago, some tiny
creatures began to build a castle, down deep be-
neath the waves of the ocean. A rock just rising
from the white sand was its foundation, in a quiet
spot where big and little fishes loved to swim.
Silently and noiselessly the polyps went to work,
and kept at it day and night, unheeded by the
crowds that frisked and dived about the rocks.
But one morning a skate, taking a little exercise,
bumped his head against something rough and
hard.
My eyes! he exclaimed, with a grimace.
" If the rock is n't growing bigger !"
A flounder, who happened to be passing at the


moment, paused to find out what was the matter,
and a curious perch hovering near, seeing the
two putting their heads together, very naturally
lingered to hear the news.
"Bah !" said the flounder, as the indignant
skate rolled his goggle-eyes toward the offending
wall. "It is only the work of those insignificant
polyps. Such small creatures can't injure us!"
"It must be stopped! It shall be stopped!"
cried the skate. It is an impertinent invasion of .
our rights. I'll report it to my armed friends !"
Away darted the perch, eager to tell what he had
overheard, and it was not long before the shark,
sword-fish, dolphin, and a host of large and small


THE CORAL CASTLE.



THE CORAL CASTLE.

BY E. T. DIsoswAY.


785







THE CORAL CASTLE.,


fry knew that the polyps were erecting a castle
for themselves under the very noses of the aris-
tocratic inhabitants of the deep. The news spread
here and there and everywhere, and very soon shoals
upon shoals were hurrying to the spot to see what
was going on, and enjoy their share of.the gossip.
I'11 soon settle this !" snapped the shark.
Pshaw puffed the porpoise. "One breath
may blow it away."
"Give me but a fair
,chance!" boasted the
sword-fish.
And they hurried on to
defend their rights.
After reaching the
place, the shark begged
leave to be allowed to
make the first attack. He
opened wide his mouth
and showed his teeth so THE SKATE AND FLOUN
THEIR HEADS TOGO'
that all the sprats, her- THEIR HEADS TOG
ring, mackerel, and other defenseless fish drew
back in consternation, and trembled at a respectful
,distance.
Do you dare defy me ? Scum of the ocean !"
So saying, the shark advanced and fastened his
teeth upon the castle's lower story, while all the
spectators gurgled encouragement and approval of
'his spirited mode of attack.
But the wall stood firm. It was not shaken
in the least, and, mad-
dened with rage and dis-
appointment, the shark
retreated, too proud to
.confess that he had left
.a broken tooth behind.
"Of course, any one
could have seen it was
not to be destroyed in
that fashion," said the
sword-fish, preparing for
action. It should be
attacked from the top."
He made a fearful
thrust at the fortress-
no well-armed, valiant
soldier-fish could have
done better. There was
a great splashing and
noise,and it was believed
that the castle was being
leveled with the ocean
bed. In the general con-
fusion the shark seized
the opportunity to devour unobserved a number
-of frightened fish within his reach, and an unlucky
pearl-oyster who was looking on, his mouth wide


T


open, was dragged away from his shell by a frisky
star-fish, who retired with him and made a hearty
luncheon.
Presently the waters calmed down, and lo!
there stood the castle, unmoved and unharmed.
My friends," said the porpoise, gruffly, looking
first at the castle and then at the crowd of dismayed
fishes, it is true that I breathe freely only
above the water, but if you will allow me to rise to
the surface, I will, if possible, return with a suffi-
cient quantity of condensed air to serve our pur-
pose; for I am convinced that this castle can
be destroyed only by blowing it up.
My brave comrades meant well, but
it is clear that they did not go to work
in the right way."
"Of course the porpoise is right,"
assented the listeners. Of course
it should be blown up. Wait until
DER PUT he brings back his explosive."
HER. Meantime, I will lay my plan be-
fore you," said an electric eel, with a bow and
wriggle, when the porpoise had disappeared. "As
some of you know, nature has provided me with a
galvanic battery. I propose to test it in razing
yonder edifice to its very foundation. Polyps, as
you all are aware, must have something to build
upon. By communicating a heavy shock to the
rock, it will be demolished, and the work of the
impudent builders will be stopped."


THE SHARK TRIES.

The hearers looked askance at the eel, for he
was an odd fish, with queer manners and slippery
ways, and they never thoroughly understood him.


786


[AUGUST,






THE CORAL CASTLE.


Why hesitate to avail yourselves of this scientific
method?" added the eel, with another wriggle.
"It is true, I am not blessed with an armor of


THE SWORD-FISH TRIES.
shell. My fins and scales are not so shining nor
attractive as yours, yet many a fish has but one
tool-its mouth-and that weapon is of limited
capacity in such an emergency as this. My
beloved friends, give me a fair show."
Go at it, then," grinned the shark.
May your efforts be crowned with success!"
exclaimed the sword-fish.
Only hurry up, for the porpoise is coming,"
added a pilot-fish.
The eel lost not an instant. He approached the
rock and tapped it gently with his tail, once-twice
-thrice. The lookers-on blinked hard, hoping
that the foe's quarters would be shivered into
small bits. But no change was visible.
Every polyp is now as dead as a door-nail, de-
pend upon it," said the eel. I 've settled them !"
But the castle The castle is still standing,"
murmured the dissatisfied fishes.
Ha ha laughed a ten-feet conger eel, who
had been silently looking on. Don't believe a
word he tells you; I must say he is the most
shockingly treacherous fellow in the water, if he is
my cousin "
"Take that for your impudence," said the
cousin, giving the conger a tremendous shock from
his battery.
He then retreated, and the attention of all was
turned to the porpoise, who was so full of air that
he had hard work to sink himself and looked very
uncomfortable.
Putting himself in position, the porpoise gave


three terrific blasts, and then-his wind gave out.
But he made a great commotion. It was difficult
to know if this was caused by his contortions, or
by the wind he had blown out.
At last, quite worn out by his extraordinary
exertions, he sank, flabby and helpless, upon the
white sand.
It must have been demolished," whispered the
credulous little fishes, not daring yet to go too
near; but soon a little scallop tumbled from the
rock, his row of bright blue eyes staring wide, and
he reported that the castle was as good as ever, and
that, instead of being alarmed or disturbed by all
the unusual pounding and battering, the polyps
were building away as if nothing had happened.
Here was a pretty kettle of fish, to be sure !
Some sea-anemones had been torn away by the
porpoise, and their gay, fringed coats much injured.
A few staid sponges had been sadly damaged;
some mussels had been ousted from comfortable
quarters. A little sea-weed more or less tangled,
a shaky leg broken off a paralytic crab, and the
cracked shell of a nautilus, completed the list of
disasters. In fact, there had been great cry and
little wool."
What was to be done?
The defeated parties rolled their eyes at each
other in despair, and shook their tails in a show of
defiance at the insolent enemy.
In the midst of their perplexity, down dropped
a flying-fish and announced that President Whale,
having caught wind of the tumult, was hurrying to


THE PORPOISE TRIES.
the scene, in order to give them the benefit of long
years of experience. This news was received with
great delight.


8880.]


787






THE CORAL CASTLE.


"You'd better keep around the corner," said
the conger eel to his shocking relative. "President
Whale knows what kind of an eel you are. He '11
finish you! "
Who 's afraid?" answered the electric eel; but
he kept out of sight, nevertheless.
"Oh, wont they catch it, now, though !" said
the lamed crab, scrabbling over an oyster in his
hurry to get out of danger. The oyster winked,
but dared not open his mouth; for he had just seen
a friend of his disappear in a startling manner.
One swing of his magnificent tail will brush
away the work of these paltry millions," remarked
a huge sturgeon.
Dear me I hope it wont hurt us," murmured
a little fish, or tear away our fins, or break
off our tails. Poor Nautilus is disabled for a long
time to come."
"The wind is taken out of his sails, at last,"
grumbled an envious lobster. "What business
had that dandy with a pleasure boat, anyhow? "
Meantime, the flying-fish busied himself in put-
ting everything in proper order for the great
occasion, and scarcely had this been done, when
the rising and falling waves rebounded with the
thundering floppings of President Whale's tremen-
dous flukes. Soon His Excellency loomed into view.
"Ahoy cried the assembled fishes.
He greeted them all with a kindly gesture of his
broad fins, but his eyes expressed mild reproach,
as one after another began to tell the story of their


THE EEL TRIES.
wrongs. Then he opened his mouth. He smiled.
So awful was that smile, although meant to be full
of gentle condescension, that the little fishes quiv-
ered and went further to the rear.
"One at a time, if you please," said His Excel-
lency.
"They are building a castle "
They are invading our ancestral rights "


"We will not stand it! "
"It is a barrier illegally raised in these waters."
Such were the complaints of the aggrieved fishes.
The whale smiled again, and a great bubbling,
frisking, whirling, diving and retreating followed
this second sign of friendliness.
"This is folly," he began. "But I must bear
in mind your youth and inexperience. Nay,
Shark, do not grind your teeth in useless rage.
Keep your weapon for other purposes, Sword-fish;
and, dear cousin Porpoise, you seem weary.
Your efforts are vain. Everything is vain but a
policy of reconciliation. Yonder wall will rise
higher and higher; you may dash your bodies
against it and suffer-but the castle will remain.
Although built by the smallest and weakest
creatures in the ocean, it will stand when your
bones and those of your families are lying bare
and white upon the sands. The work will creep
up steadily toward the light and air, until, rising
far above these tranquil lower waters, it will defy
the currents that disturb the higher levels. But
they cannot sweep it away, for the creatures you
despise only build faster and stronger where the
tides rush with violence. Who can tell," concluded
he, "but that one day your own bones may be
washed from their resting place, and find a lodg-
ment on the coral reef! And now, excuse me-I
must renew my supply of air. Farewell."
So saying, the whale departed, and the multi-
tude of fishes immediately held a council of war,
and numerous private indignation meetings. But
it was of no use. The sea-anemones cast about
for a permanent home on the castle, and sponges,
sea-weed, mussels, oysters and scallops took posses-
sion of quiet spots, for a life-long lease.
The skate revenged himself by making horrible
faces and rolling his eyes at the offending fortress,
but in time the predictions of the whale came true.
The walls continued to rise toward the light and
air. Finally, there was a great heaving beneath
the coral castle, and it was raised bodily, until its
top appeared above the waters. Then, tangled
bits of sea-weed and chips of wood attached them-
selves to the coral rock, and, as the sagacious
whale had said, some of the bleached bones and
shells of the old enemies were washed, with the
sand, from the ocean's bed, and helped to form a
sub-soil above the waves, upon the summit of the
coral castle. Seeds, carried by the winds or brought
by birds, fell on this soil, and plants sprang up
fresh, green and beautiful, and a little island,
pleasant to look at, shone like an emerald in the
lap of Ocean,-a great end gained by dauntless toil.


788


[AUGUST,







CHEWINK.


SUPERFINE ARTICLE. TERMS: CASH, ON DELIVERY.


CHEWINK.

BY LUCY LARCOM.


I PAUSE at the curtained door of the woods,
So breathless a quiet around me broods;
The breeze at the threshold has died-
Shall I venture a step inside?
But listen a startled call
Breaks over the ivied wall,
A sound like a musical latch's clink,-
Chewink! "

Me, then, were you watching and waiting for,
Sharp-eyed little forest janitor?
Can I guess where you hide your nest?
If I could, would I spoil its rest?


Your family need not stir,
For I am no plunderer.
He chirps back alarm at the thoughts I think:-
Chewink! "

Ho whistle : chewink but I know you can sing
When you fancy that no one is listening.
Do you think, O mistaken bird,
Your music I never heard?
But you rustle a "Tell-tale, hush!"
As you flit through the underbrush,
And into the dusk of the thicket sink,
"Chewink "


r88o.]


789








790 PLACER AND GULCH MINING. [AUGuST,


PLACER AND GULCH MINING FOR GOLD.

BY ERNEST INGERSOLL.


THE person who travels through many parts of
the Rocky Mountains, and of the Sierra Nevada,
will observe along the banks of the streams vast
piles of bare gravel. Through the midst.of these
heaps of pebbles, among which, now and then, there
towers up the round back of a bowlder, or rises a
little grassy island bearing some charred stump, one
may often see remains of wooden machinery, and
the ruins of abandoned huts; or he may even meet
with men at work, and learn how the hasty little
stream is made to pause and pay toll in service as
it rushes downward from the snow-fields where it
was born.
All these appearances are signs of gold-mining
by the method known as "placer-washing" or
" gulch-digging." It is the simplest, and, in some
respects, the most interesting of all the processes
by which the precious metal is got out of the earth.
It has been practiced for a very long period.
History does not go back far enough to tell us when
gold first began to be used, but it is supposed that
all the gold the ancients had was procured in
this way. Wherever that mysterious country
Ophir may have been, no doubt it was a placer
district.
When gold has been discovered in any region
(and this usually happens through some lucky
accident), adventurous men rush to the spot in
crowds, and at once look for more signs of it.
This search is called prospecting," and it is done
by parties of two or three, who go along the creeks
flowing down from the hills, and test the gravel in
the banks until they find what they seek. The
prospector's outfit consists of as much provision as
he can carry on his back or pack on a donkey, a
couple of blankets, guns and ammunition, a few
cooking-utensils, a shovel and pick, and a gold-pan.
The last is the most important of all these, except-
ing food. It is made of sheet-iron, and is shaped
much like an extra large milk-pan. The pros-
pectors, who call each other partner, or pard"
for short, agreeing to divide all they find, trudge
along all day beside their Mexican donkey,
keeping their eyes keenly upon the lookout, and
slowly climbing toward the head of the ravine or
gulch down which the creek plunges. Finallythey
come to a point where the gulch widens out a little,
or perhaps where a rivulet flows down from a side-
hill, and a high bank of gravel has collected. Then
they let their donkeys feed upon the short, crisp


grass, or nibble the white sage, while they climb a
little way up the bank and dig a pit a few feet deep.
You may see these prospect-holes" all over
the mountains, for many times nothing has been
found at the bottom of them to justify further
operations there; and a man who is unlucky
enough to dig many of these fruitless pits gets the
reputation of being a gopher," and finds himself
laughed at a good deal.
Their prospect-hole dug down to where the
gravel is firm, they scoop up a panful of dirt and
carry it down to the margin of the stream. First
having picked out the large pieces of stone, one of
the prospectors then takes the pan in both hands,
dips up a little water and, gently shaking the pan,
allows the water to flow over the edge and run
away, carrying with it the lightest portions of the
soil. This is done repeatedly, but as less and
less of the heaviest dirt is left behind, greater care
must be used. It requires much dexterity and
practice to keep the bottom of the pan always.
lower than the edge and at the same time dip up
and pour out the water without throwing away more
earth than you wish to. Tender management
for eight or ten minutes, however, gets rid of every-
thing except a spoonful of black sand, and among
this (if you have been successful) gleam yellow
particles of gold, which have settled to the bottom,
and have been left behind in the incessant agitation
and washing away of the earth, because they were
heavier than anything else in the pan.
This operation is called "washing" or "pan-
ning-out"; but it is not quite done yet, for the
colors or particles of gold must be separated
from the black grains, which are mainly of iron
or lead, and by passing a magnet back and forth
through them, these will be dragged out, sticking
to it: The gold is then weighed and the value esti-
mated. Nowadays, if a prospector finds he can
count on three cents in every panful of dirt, he
knows he can make money by the help of machin-
ery; but if he is to do his work wholly by hand he
must collect at least ten cents from each pan, and
in the early days this would have been thought
very moderate pay. There used to be mines in
Colorado known as "pound-diggings," because it
was said that a pound. weight of gold a day could
be saved by every man who worked there.
After testing here and there, our prospectors
decide upon the best part of the gravel-bank (which


[AuusT,


790


PLACER AND GULCH MINING.


t






PLACER AND GULCH MINING.


791


they would call a bar "), and take possession of
a small tract or claim," the amount of which is
regulated by law, and this claim they mark by
driving stakes down and writing their names and
the boundaries upon them.
Our miners, let us suppose, prefer not to get
their gold by the slow method of panning. They
therefore procure some pieces of board and hammer
together a "rocker or cradle." This machine
takes its name from its resemblance to an old-
fashioned baby's cradle. It is mounted upon two
rockers, and its head-board is high enough to serve
as a handle to rock it by. Inside is ranged a series
of three or four sieves, upon inclined supports, one


The cradle is an old contrivance and many forms.
of it are in use, some having only a single perfo-
rated partition to screen off the largest stones. It
can be carried about wherever the miner finds it
convenient to work, and does not require a vast.
amount of water. Lastly, it calls for much less
skill than most other methods. Nevertheless, the-
day of the cradle is nearly gone by, except where a
single poor man goes off by himself to some retired
spot, and works not so much for wealth as merely
with the hope of getting a living. In its place the
" sluice-box has come to be the great instrument
for gathering gold out of a placer-bar.
In order to operate a sluice to advantage, there


V.


:: a -.
Ir A
41 'A I^^


" PANNING-OUT."


above the other, the coarsest sieves being upper-
most. There is no foot-board, and in its place
projects a long spout, out of which the waste water
runs, and where there are cleats or riffles like
those I shall explain further on when I speak of
the sluice. Into this cradle one man shovels the
dirt and gravel, while his partner rocks it and
pours in the water, which he dips out or the stream
with a long-handled dipper. The big stones all
shoot off from the surface of the cradle, but the dirt
and small pebbles fall through on to the second
sieve, through which, in turn, the finer half goes,
and so on until the bottom and the spout catch the
gold and retain it alone, while the water drifts the
worthless stuff away.


must be plenty of material to be handled and
plenty of water. It is upon a sure supply of water
that placer-mining depends, and it often happens
that a bar that is worth very little might be worth
a great deal if only a stream could be turned
through it. Sometimes the gravels are in the very
bed of the creek, or on a level with it, and the
poor stream, tortured out of its course, is sent in a
dozen new channels, while the old beds are rocked
through the creaking cradles, or go rattling down.
the hollow lengths of the stretching sluices. But,.
as a rule, it is necessary to bring the water in a
ditch from some lofty point in the mountains down
to the highest part of the players. Sometimes all
the miners stop work and unite in making the


r88o.]








792PLCE AD ULH INNG [UGST


ditch, which they then own in common; at other
times one or two men will pay for the construction
of the ditch, which they then own and from which
they lease water to the miners. You may see these
little canals curving under the brows and along the
retreating slopes of the hills, seeking in and out of
all the windings a slant by which the water will
steadily run downward. Now and then a rocky
headland must be skirted, or a deep gully crossed,
and here the water is carried in a wooden "flume,"
supported upon a trestle-work of poles and props.
These aqueducts become a striking addition to


"S,*: I*-, nt : ...
ditch is made TE FLUME. 2. MINER AND CRADLE.
useful. When
it is completed, as many gates are made as there
are mines to be supplied; through these, water can
tbe drawn off, and then the water is let on, and


flows gurgling and sparkling through the canal,
bright and limpid as a natural mountain torrent.
Meanwhile, each miner has built his sluices.
These consist of long, narrow boxes made of plank-
ing,-one plank high on each side and two planks
broad at the bottom. Sometimes only two or
three of these boxes or troughs are placed end to
end, sometimes a long line of them; but all along
on the bottom, particularly down toward the lower
end, are nailed, crosswise, strips of wood like
cleats, which are known as "riffles,"-I suppose
because they make a series of little waves or riffles
in the water as it flows over them. Usually, also,
,, .-i,,:,,, r.. ir.- cleats, the bottom is paved
Siii : -..Ij.I -:r,...,es, so as to offer as many
.- .hli,':: ,:,d c.rannies as possible. Now all
I- :-I.. ior extensive placer-mining,
p. '" *'-": r, ing the gate which admits to
I. ,.- ,rile channel that leads to the
S:-i'. down comes the clear blue
'r.:!. and goes dashing and foam-
i.- .roliugh the confined trough and
-..' ": past the riffles, until it finds
:'i:t !ee, at the "tail," to run on
S .... the valley whither it will. It
i. [r.- and sparkling now, but in a
:-' I!.' -'it it becomes brown as choco-
.r -' : .th mud, for the miners are
io:. -hng the earth and gravel into
I.- i :lice-boxes, and the rivulet's
"- p-iy-day is over,-its work of
---- .. _..ld-washing is begun.
After my description of
the cradle, I need hardly
trouble you to read an ex-
planation of sluicing. It
is perfectly plain to you
that, when the gravel is
shoveled into the sluices,
the swift current sweeps
away all the light stuff,
and rolls the round stones
i out at the end, while the
heavy grains of gold sink
rapidly to the bottom, and
are caught behind the
cleats, or between some
of the paving-stones.
Usually the men help this
-process along by contin-
ually stirring up the bot,
tom of the sluice-box with
3 HDRAULIC MINING. a shovel, so that too much
besides the gold shall
not stay behind; and frequently some quicksilver
is sprinkled in the bottom to attract and hold the
gold more surely. This seems a very rude and


0 792


[AUGUST,


PLACER AND GULCH MINING.






PLACER AND GULCH MINING.


clumsy contrivance in working after so precious a
prize; indeed, it never seems quite right to dig
and toss and treat so carelessly the rich soil of these
mines; but experi-
ence has shown that
gold is so sure to
sink through all this
agitation and mass
of waste rock, and .
that it is so inde-
structible,that these
rough methods are
good -enough for
this kind of mining.
The proof comes
at night, or at the
end of the week,
when the "clean-
up" is made. Then
the water is shut off,
the sluice is drained _
dry, and all the big
stones are thrown
out. Theblackiron-
sand and other sed-
iment in the bottom -
is scraped out of
all the corners and
crevices, and care-
fully washed. A
rich panful of gold
remains,- perhaps
hundreds of dollars'
worth,-which is
separated from the
iron by the use of .... .


the magnet, as be-
fore, and poured
into the little buckskin bag which forms the miner's
wallet. Then it is weighed and divided between
the various partners who are working the claim
together.
By the amount of the "clean-up," they judge
of the worth of the claim if anybody proposes to
buy it of them. The general supposition is that
a claim will average the same yield of gold all
through, but this does not always hold true. The
gold occurs in pay-streaks," and two claims side
by side may be of very unequal value. The effort
of every miner is to get to bed-rock as soon as
possible,-that is, to the rocky floor upon which
the gravel has been drifted and piled, for the
reason' that in the process of that drifting the gold
has a chance to fall through the bowlders and silt
down to the bed-rock. He will tell you that it is
paved with a sheet of solid gold; but often he
finds hardly more than he met with on the way.


Sometimes it is only a certain layer in the bank
which is pay-dirt" and profitable to work. Then
he pushes a tunnel into the side of a hill, and


TH- SLUICE AND PUP.-
THE SLUICE AND PUMP,


brings his gravel out on a wheelbarrow to wash at
the opening. Men will work all day in these tun-
nels, sometimes lying almost at full length on
their sides, and accidents frequently occur by the
roof falling in, and so forth. In digging down to
bed-rock, it frequently happens that the hole or shaft
becomes so full of water that no more work can be
done. It would cost too much to have a man to
pump it out, and likely enough one man, or half
a dozen, would be unable to do it; but here is the
water in the neighboring creek, or, if that is want-
ing, the stream from their big ditch, waiting to be
harnessed to do the work. So the blacksmith is
consulted, an axle-tree, trunnions, and one or two
other bolts of iron-work are forged; then a frame-
work is raised, a small water-wheel knocked
together and hung in it, a flume laid which pours
a stream of water upon the wheel, and a rough
gearing of poles so arranged that every time the


VOL. VII.-52.


l880.]


793






PLACER AND GULCH MINING.


wheel goes around the plunger of the pump is
raised, and the water is pulled out. Sometimes
the connecting-rod between the water-wheel and
the pump is a line of aspen-poles, a hundred or
two hundred feet long. This is supported every
dozen feet or so, upon standards which are fastened
on pivots to firm blocks on the ground, so as to
move backward and forward with each lifting and
sinking of the pump.
When a company of men find a new gold-gulch
and begin to work it,, they call the village which
grows up there a camp, and give it some name
which is just as likely to be absurd as it is to be
appropriate. Dutch Flat, Red Dog, Bough Town,
Buckskin, and dozens of other comical names are
examples. The miners hastily throw up little log
cabins, six or eight logs high, covered with a roof
of poles and dirt, and having nothing better than
the hard-tramped earth for a floor. In one end is
the fire-place (the chimney is outside, like that of a
negro's hut in the South) and at the other end are
rough bunks, where the owner stuffs in some long
grass, or spruce-boughs, or straw, and spreads his
bed or blankets. These rude little cabins are
packed close together up and down the sides of
the gulch, so as to be as near as possible to, and
yet out of the way of, the mining, and they give a
very pretty look to the wild scenery of these mount-
ains. As the camp grows larger, merchants go
there with goods to sell; stage-coaches begin to run
to and from older settlements; shops, hotels, restau-
rants and churches are built, and the camp becomes
a town. I have known of such a gulch-mining
settlement converting in a single year an utter
wilderness in the mountains, long miles away from
anywhere, into a city of ten thousand people or
more. Then suddenly it is found that all the gold
in the gravel-bar has been washed out; and
people begin to leave so rapidly that, in a few
months, the once busy and populous camp is
almost utterly deserted, and hundreds of houses
are left empty. Not all the camps have so fleeting
a life. Almost all the large cities and towns of
California and the Rocky Mountains began as
placer-camps. But it usually happens that, about
this time, some shrewd rich man, or company of
rich men, buys out several claims, until they have
a considerable area of the gravel-bank in their
possession. 'Then they erect machinery, and
pursue the work of what is known as hydraulic
mining, for they can make money by this means
out of gravel too poor in gold to pay for panning
or cradling, according to the gold-digger's high
ideas of profit.
In hydraulic mining a stream of water is brought
into the mine through iron pipes, from so high a
source as to give immense force to it when it leaps


out of the nozzle. The fall must be from 150 to
200 feet, usually, to furnish the necessary "head,"
and upon the power which the water has depends
the success of the enterprise. The pipe consists
of stout iron, and is a foot or so in diameter. It is
made up of sections about twelve feet long, and
therefore can be lengthened or shortened, bent or
moved about, as required. Into its upper end,
away up on the steep hill-side, flows the water of
the high-line ditch, or perhaps the current of a
mountain snow-fed torrent. At the lower end of
the pipe is arranged a very strong iron mouth-
piece, like the nozzle of a steam fire-engine, only
three times as big, which swings upon compound
joints in its attachment to the pipe, so that it can
be moved in any direction,-upward, downward
or sideways. So much for the water-power
machinery, for that is what hydraulic means.
Now, observe how they employ it.
Down at the edge of the creek there is room
enough to lay their pipes and set up the Little
Giant," as they call their nozzle. Down the creek-
bed a little distance already has been built a great
sluice-box, sometimes a hundred yards or more
long, and much more capacious than the sluices
used in hand-work. Leading down to this, a steep
channel is arranged from the gravel-bank, and all
is ready. The flood-gates are opened, the big
nozzle is pointed straight at the bank, the water
resounds through the humming pipes and rushes
forth from the nozzle in a solid, straight, ice-white
beam, which bores its way into the bank and
tumbles the bowlders out very much as a steady
stream of cannon balls would do it. It is great
sport to watch this fierce attack of so much water,
remembering that it is only its weight, and the
force it accumulates in its eagerness to escape from
the close pipes, which is hurrying it on at this
fearful speed. The bank crumbles, and bits of
hard clay, small stones and fragments of petrified
wood are tossed high in the broad fountain which
flies backward from the point where the water
strikes, and falls with a constant roar and rattle.
The white, mist-hidden beam of water bores its
way deeper and deeper, the mass of foam and
broken earth changes and grows as the face of
the cliff and the direction of the nozzle are changed,
and so the Little Giant rapidly eats his way into
the gravel, and at the same time sweeps away the
loose material into the sluices by the very flood
which his energy creates.
Meanwhile, down in the channel stand men aid-
ing the separation of the gold. They are picking
the large, worthless stones out of the stream, and
piling them in an out-of-the-way place; they are
walking about knee-deep in the raging, mud-
laden flood, continually stirring up the bottom with


794


[AUGUST,






PLACER AND GULCH MINING.


shovels, in order that no gold may settle there, and
poking out the heavier rocks. Through the stout
sluice leaps a swift and noisy current, bearing in
its thick waters thousands of minute flakes of gold,
with now and then a nugget. These quickly
sink to the bottom, and are caught by the riffles,
so that the clean-up of a hydraulic sluice ought
to be, and usually is, very rich; for a hundred
times more earth is sent through it each day, under
the tearing strength of the Little Giant, than
ever shovels alone could handle; moreover, it often
happens that there are five or six pipes and
nozzles firing at the same bank. Then the
destruction is very rapid, great masses of gravel
being undermined and falling with a noise like a
clap of thunder.
The gold is collected from the sluice by shutting
off the water, taking out the riffles, and scraping
the bottom. Some quicksilver has usually been
sprinkled in the sluice previously, and more is now
added, the better to collect the gold; for which it
has a strong attraction. The union of the two
metals forms what is known as an amalgam, and
there are two ways of separating them again. If
the miners do not care to save the quicksilver
(which is the. same thing as the mercury of our
thermometers), they put the amalgam in a bag,
and strain out the quicksilver by squeezing, just as
you press the juice out of grapes when jelly is to
be made. Then the gold and the trifle of quick-
silver remaining is placed upon a shovel and held
over the fire, until all the white metal passes off
in vapor. This does not require a long time or
much heat. It is because mercury is so easily
affected by heat that it is used in barometers
and thermometers.
If, however, it is desired to save the mercury,
the amalgam, as soon as it is cleaned out of the
sluice, is put into a chemist's retort and heated.
The mercury .turns to vapor, which rises through a
tube passing at a short distance through a box of
ice or cold water, and is there condensed or turned
back to liquid again, when it runs into a jar and is
ready to be used a second time. In this way, the
same mercury may be used over and over again,
with but little loss.
Sometimes several thousand dollars are the profit
of a single week of hydraulic mining, but several
hundreds would be a more ordinary estimate.
Conducted on whatever system, gold mining is
not always so profitable a business as it seems at first
glance. After all, an ounce of gold is worth only
so much, and a pound only twelve times as much.
To get a pound of gold requires much hard work,
and a considerable outlay of money for food, for
wear and tear of clothes, for rent of water, for
purchase of machinery, etc., etc. Sometimes the


gains are enormous, but it is only a few who have
become rich in gold-digging, out of thousands who
have struggled and failed. Nor, exciting and
romantic as it seems to live in this wild, outdoor,
picnic style, and to dig the shining, precious
mineral, that we all hold in such high and almost
poetic esteem, out of the ignoble gravel where it
has lain neglected so long, is it altogether enjoy-
able work. You must be almost continually wet,
and the water in the mountains is cold; you must
handle all day long rough stones, heave huge
bowlders and shovel heavy dirt; you must swing the
pick till your back aches, and waggle that rusty gold-
pan till your arms grow lame and your fingers are
sore, while the sun beats down straight and hot, or
the chill wind cuts through your wet garments.
You must work early and late, hard and fast, and
often defend your property by a little war, if you
would equal your neighbors or hold your claim.
Then, see how the gold-miner lives. His cabin
is low and dark and dirty. The climate is too
severe and the ground too rocky for him to raise a
garden, if he cared to, and he has no time for such
pleasantries. His work is too hard to allow him to
wear any but the roughest of leather and woolen
clothes, and his fare is of the plainest kind, which
he can cook himself,-bacon, ham, bread (baked
in a Dutch oven, or by propping it upon sticks
before an open fire), coffee, dried apples, beans,
and sometimes canned fruit and vegetables. I
have known a placer camp to be without a potato
or a drink of milk or a bit of butter for nine months
at a time; but nowadays miners live somewhat
better than they used to, because grocers have
learned how to pack food in such a shape that
it will keep well and can be carried far into the
mountains on mule-back.
The amusements of a mining-camp are not such
as young people would find much fun in. Until
the camp changes to a town there are no women
or children there; and often they never do come.
The miners are wicked men, as a rule, and I am
sorry to say their amusements are almost all con-
nected with liquor and gambling. It is in such
dissipations that they spend nearly all the great
wealth they get, so that often gold-miners will make
and lose a dozen large fortunes in as many years.
There are those, of course, who save, hiding away
their little buckskin bags of gold-dust; but they
are careful not to let any one know of it, for if they
did, they would be very likely to be robbed and
perhaps shot by some of the desperadoes who in-
fest those localities, or robbed on the way out to
civilization by highwaymen. Gold-digging is hard
and dangerous and life-wearing work, yet is always
fascinating and sometimes very profitable.
Did it ever occur to you to ask how the gold got


795


1880.]






A TRIAL BY JURY.


mixed up in the gravel ? Perhaps I can give you
a'hint as to how to study the matter out fully.
The gravel-banks were piled in the places where
they are now found either by the streams, which for-
merly were vastly larger than they now are, or
else by great moving masses of ice, called glaciers.
If you should read Professor Tyndall's little book,
" Forms of Water," you would get a very good
idea of this ice-power, and much entertainment
besides. Whatever the way, the broken fragments
of the mountain, which the action of the atmos-
phere and trickling water had undermined, frost
had cracked off, and lightning had splintered to
pieces, through thousands of years, became rolled
down the bed of the ancient river and rounded
into pebbles and cobble-stones, just as yet is being
done in the bed of every rapid stream.
Now, scattered all through the granite rock of
which these towering Rocky Mountains are built
up, are veins or streaks of quartz-a white, crystal-
line rock in which the gold is found, though it by
no means follows that every quartz-vein carries


the royal metal. When, by the action of frost,
rain, and lightning, and ice, the rocks are shattered
and rolled down the bed of the stream, the quartz
goes along with the granite, and of course, if there
is any gold there, it, too, is torn out and grinds
along with the rest, until it finds a chance to settle
and help build up the bar that, ages afterward, our
prospectors find and dig into. Placer-gold is there-
fore sometimes known as floated gold, and high
in the range, at the head of a gulch which contains
good gravel, are to be found quartz-veins, whence
the riclies below have come, and where the undis-
turbed gold may be dug out and separated from
the mother-rock by the various processes known
under the head of quartz-mining, which are far
more expensive and complicated than anything
done in working the players. It is the general
belief that in the United States the players have
been pretty well exhausted, and that most of the
gold in the future is to be expected from the quartz
lodes, and sought for deep in the heart of the
mountains, hundreds of feet under-ground.


A TRIAL BY JURY.


796


[AuGuST,






JOHNNY'S POCKETS.


JOHNNY'S POCKETS.

BY ANNA B. AVERILL.


NOT a pocket, sir; not a pocket in that whole
suit! "
Johnny's face was the picture of dismay.
"Why, Aunt Jane, what shall I do without
them? he said, in a slow, bewildered way.
You wont be likely to raise toads about your
person, or be caught walking into church looking
as though you had a pumpkin on each hip."
"But, my handkerchiefs, Aunt Jane ?"
Aunt Jane smiled grimly.
Handkerchiefs, indeed! How long did you
ever keep one before it was lost, and when were
you ever known to use one? No; I came to the
conclusion, before I decided to make this suit up
without pockets, that a handkerchief with you was
-a-a supernumerary."
This silenced him. Aunt Jane was in the habit
of quenching with long words his small attempts
at argument. He was carrying several at the pres-
ent moment undigested in his busy little brain,
a burden and a perplexity. So he walked away
quite dejectedly in his new clothes, and Aunt Jane
returned to her clear-starching with a triumphant
smile.
Hullo, Johnny called Willie Brent from the
middle of the street, as Johnny was passing through
the gate. "Lend me your knife, please; see, I
have broken mine."
Johnny's hands instinctively sought the outer
seams of his trousers. Then he blushed, stam-
mered, and the hands fell despairingly beside
him.
I-I left it in my other clothes," he said, in a
low voice.
This was true, but Willie regarded him with a
slight expression of wonder in his handsome face.'
Your clothes are new, are n't they ? he said,
pleasantly, noticing them for the first time. You
look fine, Johnny."
Johnny's heart sank. What if Willie knew the
hollow cheat they were He glanced down guilt-
ily at the miserable sham pocket-flaps on the
jacket and vest. How could he bear to have the
boys discover his condition? How long could he
conceal it? Who would be the first to find it out,
and what would the boys think, and say, and do, if
they knew ? These were a few of the questions that
began to torment him. He would beg Aunt Jane
to let him wear his old mended suit-but she would
not consent to this, for she had sat up nights lately
hurrying to finish these clothes, and he had heard


her say that she was "ashamed of her life" to
have him seen going to school in those shabby
garments.
Will went on up the street, and he wandered
away aimlessly by himself. The further he went,
and the longer he mused, the more sharply he
realized his disagreeable plight.
He clasped his hands above his head and walked,
he crossed them behind his back and walked, he
folded them over his breast and walked, and tried
to forget-and could n't Then he tried to com-
fort himself with useless arguments.
Might not a boy live and even enjoy himself toler-
ably well without pockets? Aunt Jane was right
about the handkerchiefs. He never needed one. His
slate-pencil was tied to his slate in his drawer at
school, where he kept his lead-pencil, his pens and
his rubber, that he might have room in his pockets
for more precious things.
But alas, and alas! After long and serious
debate with himself, he remained unreconciled.
A week passed away. The scholars at school all
noticed the change that had come over little Johnny
Blake, and wondered at it.
Don't you see, Amy," asked Will Brent of his
sister, "how different he is? He has n't played
ball once this week; he wouldn't go fishing yes-
terday; he mopes by himself half of the time, and
he says he is n't sick, either."
Amy Brent, a motherly girl of fourteen, opened
wide her blue eyes and regarded her brother
thoughtfully.
But he was always quiet, Willie," she said.
"Oh, ye-." Ce:-.:lmrrli-,l \l, somewhat impa-
tiently. "'1.ui"i krnuoi .i:, rin;. Blake well enough.
You watch him, and you '11 see what I mean."
And Amy watched-and saw-more than Willie
had seen, more than Johnny would ever have told;
for she discovered his secret.
At the close of another week, she drew her
brother aside one evening at home.
Can you keep.a secret, Will ?" she asked him,
earnestly.
"Yes," he answered, without hesitation, much
impressed by her manner. And then and there
she unfolded a well-matured plan in which he was
to assist-a plan requiring no small coolness and
skill, and considerable daring, but which immedi-
ately met with his full and hearty approval.
Meanwhile, Johnny Blake had declined percep-
tibly in flesh and spirits. From a rosy, happy


797


r88o.]






JOHNNY'S POCKETS.


boy, never noisy and obtrusive, but busy and
healthy in mind and body, he became a listless
solitary.
In school he was still faithful and patient at his
studies, but out of school he avoided his playmates
all that was possible, and one wish became upper-
most in his heart-to conceal his disgrace, for as
such he had come to regard it,-from the world.
To Aunt Jane the change was not yet apparent.
If he was a trifle quieter than usual, she congratu-
lated herself upon his improvement. She gave
him full credit for being better than the average
boy, and if he could have been kept out of all
kinds of dirt and play, and mischief of even the
most harmless sort, if he could have been so
"improved" as never to forget, nor blunder, nor
"bother," he would have been a boy after her
own heart. Johnny stood very much in awe of
Aunt Jane. He performed the small duties she
required of him quietly and obediently, never
thought of confiding a trouble to her, and regarded
her smallest word as unchangeable. What he
thought of her largest one it would be hard to tell.
And now two weeks had passed away. It was
ten o'clock of a pleasant moonlit night. Johnny
had lain awake long after retiring for the night,
gazing through his open chamber-window at the
clear, soft sky. Aunt Jane had frequently cau-
tioned him against leaving this window up, for it
was just over the low roof of the wood-shed, and
once, in the middle of the night, when Will Brent
had slept with him, two strange cats had bounced in,
tearing and fighting each other, and awakened the
whole house. But this was one of the many in-
junctions that Johnny sometimes "forgot." To-
night he had been thinking over a great many
things, and at last he fell to wondering if it were
quite right to let the affair of the pockets acquire
the proportions it had assumed. It had all come
over him afresh, how entirely his life at school and
among his friends was changing, and he tried to
resolve that he would rise above it. But how?
He tried to imagine how Will Brent would have
laughed off such a calamity and made the best of
it. But Will was two years older than he, and
then such a thing could never have happened to
Will, for he had a mother; and mothers never
made their boys' clothes without pockets. Such a
thing was never heard of before, nor read of, in all
the annals of boyhood. Johnny's heart was very
sad. He fell asleep, at last, still unreconciled.
He was awakened by some one's pronouncing
his name, in a loud, squeaky whisper. He opened
his eyes in slow bewilderment. The moon was
still shining brightly, and there, close beside his
bed, was the queerest figure! A little, bent and
humped old woman, in a peaked and ruffled cap,


looking at him through great, shining spectacles,
and smiling in a calm, superior way.
"Johnny," she said, in a curious whisper, "I
am your fairy godmother, and I will take your
clothes away, and put some pockets in them, and
bring them back long before morning, if you will
be still, and say nothing to-night. Promise, with
a nod, quick; if you speak, the charm will break! "
Johnny had read a great deal about fairy god-
mothers, and believed in them. He gave the
nod, and watched the strange creature disappear
noiselessly through the window with his clothes.
He seemed to be still in some enchanted land of
sleep. It did not seem strange to him that this
thing should be, with the moon shining on the
floor, and his dreams thick about him. He had
not stirred in bed, nor moved his head on the pil-
low, and he remembered no more until the morn-
ing sun was shining in his eyes, and Aunt Jane
was calling him to breakfast.
He jumped out of bed. There were his clothes
hanging upon a chair, exactly as he had left them.
He took them up with a puzzled, incredulous
smile, at the thought of his strangely vivid dream;
but he could not resist peering under the pocket-
flaps of his jacket.
He sat down suddenly on the side of the bed,
rubbed his eyes, winked hard, and looked again.
There were pockets under the flaps /
He sat as if stunned. He looked through the
window into the bright, glad sky. The swallows
were darting and twittering, the robins were sing-
ing aloud for joy; and a pure, deep and blessed
thankfulness began to well up in his heart. He
examined the garments over one by one. There
were seven pockets in all ; two side-pockets and a
breast-pocket in the jacket, two in the vest, and
two in the trousers !
He could hardly keep the tears back, or refrain
from singing aloud with the gay robins; but he
dressed and went down to breakfast with a new
light in his eyes, which Aunt Jane did not see.
How could he tell Aunt Jane? And nobody else
in the world had ever known So he kept this
new joy to himself, as he had kept his trouble,
regaining his lost rosiness and growing happier
every hour, until, at last, he came home from
school one day in such a state of bulge, that Aunt
Jane, who had beheld him from afar, pounced
upon him with wonder passing description, and
he felt that concealment was no longer possible.
Then he told her the whole, straightforward story,
as it had taken form in his simple, believing heart,
and she knew that he spoke the truth. She had
learned long ago to put absolute trust in his
word.
She held him off at arm's length, and looked


798


[AUGUST,







A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.

BY OLIVE THORNE MILLER.


ONCE upon a ti;iin, at cx-.-tly the right mromnen
a happy: thh u.- bt : i ,- ;nto i tli : li I ul i iiii..


thought, h :,: I-, l :, ri : th.- r.-_ o" rl;r- _
out iIto ;t pil.1 r o il- -i. ::r pr t '.:UI.-- I l, 'rt..
Li:'- i hi .: r,:, : ,:.1 Fi"ur, :uori.- h- l ",1 rhI'
th in g : t:.-. :, I :_, I:, i: .'.ii :l I .Il.:c o.i., -. -,.h o:r
hard:-c tha., r: ih i:t.
Fi:-'r* ... i ,, .'
Thii ji r lo. i. h:ir-.. I, .-:iu-. h: l .'ird
news[p.P',i r.- h ip, i.nJ -': l .-.:l .r:l .:.I,: I
best n i .-ur ,c.U.I C','. ii-,:h p .' id.LL 1 ,- I:' L i.[ I I
did h elp.-:r ar-in.J ..dhllc. .:, all rhi, .'... -', i -all I
need '
Sec-',r..i ; i.:. Fri n ir b'l r I: .. ru..ri, p'-pl I-
woul d., i h: h :h i r. r. t .or;
T h,. ..: h r -:r ; h- hI ld 1, t kr ikC .:.. .:,: i
the *,.:.unii r, ard t,:' i'.- I. rri,. ,p h:i-.- o. tu II
peop!T, i'tr. th-, :r.: I. ,J d .r :, he
Fron' ru ri t.. nr h-..
hurri-d tIll;,-,. i.-i -i..l d.
and t,6,, vk d,:,, i !, ,,:,.i.:- .. ---.-t*,.
of t i .
worked ,u r :. n r a t
expert .. .d r .. uL. .'ir.. i ,
at la; r, tl-. L i h ... .: -" !,L h di
nam ,: i r I'n tl : k. jni' "I i .' 1
the -c. I r.:Ir





-. '.._. .










A HILL-SIDE PASTURE.

vanquished, he went back to the city to work
eagerly for the
Third; the consent of the people whom alor
the plan was to benefit.
This was hardest of all, for it 's a queer thing-
but it 's true-that there is nothing most people w:


fight aga i.t like
I.,et. bLpd -
"re l, l, l II ,- I!.
ni'rr in ,i ':' ,,c-



l.- f 1' _- 1 tI -r ,ut


i-Id XZ. 2-1. l

tr lhi, h .i Ii. i:-
.:i III ii: -i


f', i1,n : rh 1.-.11 h L, as r i, rh,- r srire t chil-
-% l .i -f" : rk r'. Tii I'-l :hI :it' i pure


ther hoes. The eros farmer and the

fills his bk with invitations, and thn ret.irn goes
._ _ '. ,' [I,, *.*...... ',, :-,,>0 i-il;_:, 9t.ll_-0 ,:.i4 the
.,.h' ic[.- .,: i 11.-n, s -_ d l ['iT i-Cil'i-.ri' children
..1I rhic- t.i: n I i-ih.:.u, -. n r..I p:r:Ti h:-lt, : the
I" -:!_: i.,: iir n .Il ii I ,-i rh tee .-f the
unhappy creatures to spend two weeks at
their homes. The generous farmers and the
as mother-hearted farmers' wives respond heartily; he
fills his book with invitations, and then returns to
ie the city.
After the first hard fight with the ignorance and
- suspicion of the poor parents, he had no trouble
ill with them. The battle-though severe-was never


8oo


[AUGUST,


z. .
:I-






zBo.]


A'HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


8oi


revived. When they found that their children shrieking across green fields, and trees begin to
were invited, not to work but to play, not to be appear, and pretty white houses, a change comes
stolen but to be safely returned, not to be hurt but ____ ~~...
to be wonderfully benefited by the trip, they were --
only too glad to let them go. He sends to the
mission-schools, and to charitable people who know .
the poor, and gets the names of those who need the
fresh air, the Evening Post calls for gifts of money -
from the happier classes, and on the first of July
the excursions begin.
Twice a week, through July and August, a large M
party goes out of the hot city to some station in a -
delightful country neighborhood, usually in New
York State, where the children are scattered among -
their kind hosts, and two weeks later they are
safely returned to the same station, and delivered
well and sound to their parents at home.
It is a strange procession that starts out on one
of these excursions; children, from babies to twelve- g -- -
year-olds, but no laughing and talking, no bright -- --
eyes and dancing feet. Life has been hard to these--
youngsters, and it is a silent, unchildish crowd,
blindly obeying every word oft authority, question- I
ing nothing, hoping nothing. -
Every child has, evidently, been treated to a -.
severe course of soap and water, and provided by __
mission ladies with clean clothes, and every child -- __-- --'=--
has a bundle to which it clings for dear life; some SUNSET BY THE RIVER.
done up in handkerchiefs, in old shawls, and in on. Faces brighten, eyes look interested, tongues
newspapers; some in worn-out valises, some in loosen, and every window is full of heads; though
satchels that will not hold together, and all in a some look dubious, as if they feared, after all,
straggling, coming-to-pieces condition. They are the shrieking engine might prove a dreadful ogre




3't
















THE COUNTRY FORD.
packed-bundles and allinto a car, oftenest in to drag them away from home and mother,








the Erie Railroad station, and the train starts, while others are plainly awed by the size of the
As it leaves the dingy town behind, and goes strange world they have come into.






A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


Not all the passengers are children: here 's a girl
of eighteen, who went out last summer, in almost
the last stages of consumption (as was supposed),
sent by her father, who with difficulty scraped
together ten dollars, and begged to have her taken,
though he supposed she would die. She was left


THE BROOK.
with a family, to be kept as long as the money would
pay her board, but they became interested, invited
her to stay till Christmas, and sent her home well


Here, also, is a mother with four small children,
who was found starving a few days ago, and is
now going out to
get strong again,
and another,--a
worn-outsewing-
woman who nev-
er rode in cars
before, and who
is in deadly ter-
ror of "falling
to pieces" when
the train starts.
She crouches in
a heap on the
floor till placed
in a seat, where
she holds on for
her life, clutch-
ing the window- .
sill on one side,
and the hand of
a friend on the
other. These
grown-ups are
taken at the ex- A GLIMPSE OVER THE VALLEY.
pense of some of the mission-schools; only chil-
dren partake of the Fresh Air Fund.
Many stories might be told of restored health
and renewed life; and every one of that sad car-
load could tell of want, of cold and hunger, of sick-
ness and sorrow. But they have left all this behind
in the city.
By the time the roll is called, and every child
found to answer to a name in the book, and the
bundles are all done up and properly secured, and


--": .... r-- - .- .


THE VALLEY.


and strong. Now she is going again, with her little the last crumb devoured of the lunch they brought
sister, by their invitation, to spend the summer. from home,-queer food, too: black bread, tough


802


[AuGusT,


:_- ---- :


- 7 -= -' -- ---- -- .....
__- =~ ~ .. ... .. ... .. ..
- -







A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


chunks of cake, and (would you believe it?) candy,
-they reach a pleasant station, where a curious
crowd fills the platform, each person provided with
a large basket.
The train stops and the strangers board the car,
fill the aisle, and open their baskets. A delighted
" O-o-oh goes up from two hundred small lips
at the sight: sandwiches,-honest ones, too ; gin-
gerbread and cake,-light and sweet; fruit,-fresh
and delicious; everything nice that a child can
desire. Every little hand and mouth is filled, and


:. -. ..j ,.>- a -
t-






A. -,
-
.; -; .-_.& ..




:.+ -_.. .z=- :W -


poor street-child for flowers is truly pathetic,
and well known to the ladies of the Flower
Mission. Bread and meat were good, and heartily
welcome, but the flowers are the first sweetness
of the country,-the flowers go to the heart.
The hours pass on, the station is reached; rows
of country vehicles stand outside, and crowds of
waiting people on the platform. Bundles are
gathered up, hats put on, shoes fastened, pins
adjusted, strings tied, and the motley procession
forms. They march out of the car, and then
bc in- iriti s-ccne. A .-rt f frind-',- -crimble
I .: [ : nd : ,i I r..'r i : I i going
_'_ur, ,:,1" i,,i-in :- li- lr.:,d are
-' hli ,ri i,:1:,- .J.uT. [I,,- vorst-
.: r :i, and
-----kp _r... i,-. wag-
-_ _:-. .:. l: away
-----=_ ---- --_- I- ri- land,


--" .-l t short
hI iV tands
his
-r ick in
trade














I-d :.. I happy-
I. lo r. :..pIle.
riW .- l riirn, for
S- ini life.
i i !i ni. i :r I : l :.. rh : :-. :r ilrvsort,
r. r i t'- r 1 iik. il .i rio :. r: very-
S .- .-. : r ';. lt : i. : 1 r:I rv ,. .: ..tracts

T lci Or 1. .. -,-. ;, l %_ i-,.,. [117r7n _


7- .. ._ -. I-: -,- i:h.C : 'J rl',, i. .. : I,' .- *,:e tim e,
-- , '- I -.* i I l.lrl i'.-'l : e r : ;. .l: .....-. and we
a I. hIolC iadu a tuce Lime, anad we r having a real LttLe Lime.


further, andan-
other kind-hearted party boards the train. This
time it is flowers, and each child is made abso-
lutely blessed by a bouquet,-a real, sweet-smell-
ing bunch of country flowers,-something which
they have all their lives wanted, and. perhaps
never before possessed. The intense love of a


Another one says, in mild surprise:
I do not need to work. I only have to play. We go out with
a carriage and a horse on it."
Another little innocent says:
They have such pretty weeds here, they look like nice flowers.
I love the country, the long grass is so nice and cool for my feet."


803


2880.]


_4

a







A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


-. '
-_-'-2v_ --=:- -- ;- -.i --
I-i---._ ,~ ~ iP~~ll~~- l- --.-__--.2~- ~
: -~~- ....... .


"WE CAN ACCOMMODATE ONE OR TWO."


Says a third,-an open-eyed little observer,-
"We went to church in a carriage, but the horses stayed outside."
We have Christmas trees all around the house,"
says an overjoyed youngster.
I love ihe country, and I have enough to eat,"
is the burden of many of the letters. Perhaps the
gem of all, for its simple statement of the whole
case, is this :
"It is beautiful, it is splendid, it is delightful, it is refreshing, it
is grand, it is clean, and it is not cold, and the people seem very
nice, and you will have plenty good milk for the children. There is
no rough people, no scum of the city."
Meanwhile they are out romping in the fields,
they go after berries, they gather fruit, they sleep
soundly, they drive cows, they learn to milk, and
they eat all they want. They are so busy with the
new things and the new life around them, that
they have no temptation to be mischievous; being
only one ao r ... together, they do not carry their city
life with thn-n., but are absorbed into country life,
and learn country ways, which is one of the bene-
fits of this charity. The influences around them
are good, and pure, and sweet, and they grow
better in conduct, as well as in. health, every hour.
Leave them to their delights; another crowd
waits at the next station to return. All! these are
like children ; merry, chattering, laughing, shout-
ing, red cheeks, bright eyes, plump limbs-are
these the limp, stolid youngsters of two weeks ago
-these cheerful boys and girls, in new. clothes,
loaded down with country kindness?
The parting with their'hosts is touching to see.
It is Pa and Ma," and my boy," and my


girl," between most of them; there are kind mes-
sages, as My boy has n't been a bit of trouble,"
and I got really attached to my girl, and wish I
could afford to keep her always. Please bring her
to me next year." "It rained the first day the
girls came," says one pleasant farmer's wife, "but
they would n't stay in the house a minute; they
ran out and gathered green leaves to press, and
they 've got about a bushel to take home. They
acted as if they were crazy, and you 'd laugh to
see them walk in the grass, lifting their feet high at
every step. They never saw any before, I guess."
Here comes a kind-faced woman with a basket
of flowers, tied up in little bunches; sweet country
blossoms, bachelor's-button, sweet-peas, phlox,
mignonette. Each eager hand, though already
full, is held out for one, and at last the basket is
empty.
Now comes the train, Conductor Jim-the chil-
dren's kind friend-waves his hand, and away
they go.
How different from the silent crowd that went
out! They laugh, they eat apples, they display
presents of dimes which "he gave," and trinkets
which "she had when she was a little girl"; they
shoiv in every word and look that they have re-
ceived something besides fresh air and food and
gifts-some of the sweetness of country life has
come into their, hearts; they are better, morally as
well as physically; they can never be quite the
same as before.
Wont you be glad to get home? you ask of one.
"Well, kinder; I 'd like to go home just one
day, and then go back for always."


804


[AUGUST,







A HAPPY THOUGHT FOR STREET CHILDREN.


We thought the children were loaded on coming
out, but returning, the bundles were more than
doubled; big bags of apples, boxes with pigeons,
bundles of new clothes, bunches of mint and
" garden stuff," baskets of food, boxes with hens,
flour-bags full of treasures, plants in pots and boxes,
and every pocket and every corner stuffed with
apples. They speak of the good beds and the fun
they had, the rides, the berrying, and one and all
announce their intention to go back to stay.
After a long ride the train comes into the New
York station. Children are aroused from the hun-
dred positions in which they were sleeping; pack-
ages are gathered together, and the procession
is formed once more. They march to the place
where parents have been told to be ready to take
their children home.
How many do you suppose appreciate the kind-
ness enough to spare the benefactor the task of
getting them home at half-past ten at night?
Alas for them! Not one /
At that hour, the worn-out, patient gentleman
finds himself with one hundred and ten children,
living in nearly a hundred and ten different parts
of the city and of Brooklyn, and all too young to
go alone.
But the work is before him; he does it,-as he
has worked from the first. Every child, with all its


bundles, boxes, bags and dead flowers, is delivered
safely at the wretched place it calls home, richer,
happier, better than in its life before.
In 1879, nearly twenty-five hundred children
enjoyed these excursions, and five thousand dollars
were given-mostly in small sums-to pay fares,
which, by the generosity of railroad and steamer
companies, were greatly reduced.
The success has been wonderful, but the whole
thing nearly failed because of one little thing,-the
children would "brag." Would you believe that
a youngster, whose father drove a street-car, would
talk of "father's carriage, and stable full of
horses?" or that another, living in the attic of a
dreadful tenement-house, would say that she lived
in a bigger house than her entertainer's, a four-
story brick, with water on every floor ?"
Well, they did. Kind farmers, working for
charity, were offended, and made complaint. The
matter was explained, the children lectured on
the sin of bragging, and that rock was happily
passed.
How can they thank the man who has done all
this, better than in the words of Christian to Mr.
Greatheart: "You have been so faithful and so
loving to us, you have fought so stoutly for us,
you have been so hearty in counseling of us, that
we shall never forget your favor toward us."


A VIEW WHICH CITY CHILDREN WOULD REMEMBER.


805


r88o.]






MOTHER'S HIRED MAN.


into his eyes a full minute, in utter, dumb aston-
ishment.
"To whom have you been complaining about
your not having pockets?" she demanded, when
she could speak.
"To nobody, Aunt Jane. I never let a soul
know. I-was ashamed."
And she knew that this, too, was true.
After taking a long time in which to become
composed, and to think the matter over, she found
herself so far from any possible solution of


the matter that she was half-disposed to accept
Johnny's explanation as the only one.
At any rate, it 's no use to make a fuss over
anything you can't locate," she said, one evening,
half to herself, as she was re-examining the mys-
terious pockets. "'These pockets are good drill-
ing, and they 're put in strong and neat enough,
but this work is no tailor's manipulation "
"If-if a fairy godmother did it, it would be
womanipulation, would n't it, Aunt Jane ? said
Johnny. And that 's a longer word still."


MOTHER'S HIRED


MAN.


BY F. M. BAKER.

THERE out by the sand-heap, his barrow fast filling,
Working away just as hard as he can,
Working for wages,-a sweet sugar shilling .
Or bright Yankee sixpence,-is Mother's hired man.

He is making a mole-hill, but calls it a mountain,-
Not a very rare thing since this world first began,-
" Guess I '11 call it a cake, and then pebbles I '11 count in,
One, two, six, nine plums, all for Mother's hired man.

" Oh, no, it 's a nest, now, and these are my eggies;
I 'm a bird; and I '11 hatch 'em all out if I can;
I'11 try,-no, I wont,-for it tires my poor leggies,
An' I can't be a bird, 'cause I 'm Mother's hired man.

" Hired men take a rest, when they 're tired, where it 's shady:
I guesses I 'm tired, so I 'll rest just like Dan."
When Mother called Willie," and searched, anxious lady,
Fast asleep near his sand-heap she found her hired man.


s88o.]


799






THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. NOS. V. & VI.


[AUGUST,


THE PET NAME.

THERE was an old farmer of Squarm
Who called his wife nothing but Marm.
She said, It sounds queer,
But if you like it, dear,
I like it; so where is the harm?"





THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. Nos. V. & VI.

BY F. BLAKE CROFTON.

THE BYE-BYE. twenty feet from the ground. Halting there, it
I DARE SAY you have faced its pursuer with a look of mild despair.
never heard of the This appeared to please the panther. At least,
bye-bye, or rope-tailed he quickened his pace, and was soon within a few
S I ,. i,-. 1..:1;. ,.i. rods of his prey, when the rope before alluded to
,,, ,,, .: util i, began to rise rapidly from the ground. "Excelsior"
Si [I.1 i: ..Ir!.:.ri i i- seemed to be the motto of the erectile rope, which,
.. ., .. ., r..,. 1:.-. I now perceived, was really the monkey's tail. Up
Sl.r. ,: ..... _.:rr and up it went, like Jack's bean-stalk; higher and
S... L-,.- lI .....:.. ,,, higher it mounted up the trunk. In a few seconds
F .. :l r ,.'.. ,i ,i' .., its end was twenty feet in the air, and was coiling
il.. r.: .i .1. around the first branch of the palm!
I ..,.. .-. Then the ape began ascending its own tail,
: i :.. hand over hand, with great agility, until it reached
V ,.-: ....: :,-.- the branch. Safely seated there, it gazed forgiv-
I tr. ingly at its baffled enemy, only muttering now and
i.,* '"",I'' ,ir .:l- then the strange ejaculation to which it owes its
,..i., name: "Bye-bye Bye-bye! Bye-bye!"

No. VI.
..,..r .[_ ..l ., THE HOWIS DATFORHI."

: .I r !. THE second time I was at Goalonga, a lovely
oasis not marked on any map (I fancy no white
l. *' man's foot had ever rested there before),
S"Were n't you a white man the first time you
.. were there?" you may ask.
Perhaps so, but I did n't happen to get out of
my balloon on that occasion, I must reply. And,
to resume, the second time I was at Goalonga, I
Ssaw the Howis Datforhi, as the natives call it, or
S RiverKangaroo (MacropusFluviensis). The forte
S- -of the river kangaroo, as of his tribe generally, is
leaping. He can beat the great kangaroo of Aus-
rope behind it, and hobbled on with tralia at long jumps, while at high jumps he can
difficulty till it reached a tall, smooth- lick any living thing except the cow that jumped
palm, with not a branch lower than over the moon, and Macbeth, who was prepared to


806


chain or
seeming
trunked






THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. Nos. V. & VI.


"jump the life to come." But the animal soon tires,
and, when overtaken by a beast of prey away from
a stream, he speedily falls a victim nowadays.


But the lions and panthers are more knowing
than they used to be. When the river kangaroo is
tired out and overtaken, he tries to baffle his pur-
suer by a series of springs, about a hundred feet
high. These give him less labor than long jumps,
for the balls of his feet are more elastic and re-
bound better than the liveliest India-rubber ball.
He is obliged to exert hismuscles afresh only once
in about twenty ascents: the other nineteen aie
nothing but rebounds. The twentieth jump is, of


course, the highest, and it is then that he utters a
curious cry, very much resembling his native
name, Howis Datforhi."
The blacks say that carnivorous animals did not
know how to deal with the river kangaroo, when
thus at bay. It was vain to place themselves
1...,-,.-,h 1 1,.: .,ih. -, -l 1..-...y, for, whatever part of
i.i..-r i.,.:. ..r i.,--.i- ,. i .., i .:..hed first with his elas-
,.: I,-,=r. ..ii I . .u i n'l..-.1 .:!ite far enough to enable
i ., r.. in.i.T in-ii .:. i'f i. vard again, and com-
rni :c i r-,. :.:r ..i. '.l'. .: In fact, the beasts of
I..r.: -i. i-, :. l ri-li r, .e animal only exposed
ih.:,.. I,:.. 1: .r I. thingg .


!. i, l..-. I.. I,. know how to catch the
S !:.-. '-"..... I-er, il surprise him far from
: i i ,,.::I! i i,.h finish of an exciting
I..i i::. :o rl: I, urn ..I .r 'lmal, wearied of forward
uil .pri_.. ".ii l ..r i.. ,.-.n to come up and then
,.: ;. A ...1.ii. r .r : .i'[ .r watching his wonderful
l...i.r,.j- I..r -......: 1.1. ,rlh apparent interest, the
i.:. l.n :II...II: .' i., ,i_ I ..ne side, guessing cor-
,..:I. tI,._ i,..,r I.-,,- I-.i victim would reach the
I:.un,.. TII L.I.: ..t rt ....l ipon his back, and, with
!..: I:.i r ri. -: i,, lI. .,,., I aited the doomed kan-
I.- .-. h. I.. .: ...;h i-r : neatly as if he were the


catcher of a cham-
pion Nine. There
was no rebounding
from that grip !
But how is the
river kangaroo bet-
ter off beside wa-
ter ?" you may ask.
Why, he jumps
across the river, to
be sure, and has lots
"of time to rest while
his enemy is swim-
ming it. Then he
jumps back again.
He can keep this
game up all day, and
seems rather to enjoy
it. Infact,youngand
adventurous Howis
Datforhis go a little
away from the banks


to try and tempt some ferocious animal to chase
them, just for the fun of disappointing it.
But, perhaps you may remark that you never
heard of kangaroos out of Australia. And it does
puzzle me how the beast can have got into Africa.
The blacks have a ridiculous fable that, ages ago,
two gigantic Howis Datforhis leaped across the sea
from some foreign land. But, of course, such
bounds as these are beyond the bounds of human
faith. I can only vouch for what I saw myself.


x88o.]


807


- I-


I


kI


.~~-~'-U~gYBBlr~P~+8891 C-







i~;:--- --------~---.
.''--;------~---;-=--
--r-
----- ~-~,~-~e~'~;~
iP






808


SONG OF THE PALM-LEAF FAN.


[AUGUST,


MANY of our girls and boys may like to copy neatly, in black or colored ink, on the smooth spaces
of a palm-leaf fan, the beautiful poem by Miss Bennett, as here given. The gift of such a fan would
be a pretty souvenir of the summer. An album-fan could be made by inducing friends to copy each
a stanza, and sign their initials.


f'







WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED.


WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED.

BY SOPHIE SWETT.


IT do be a bitter night, Micky, wid the thay-
nometer down that far they '11 have to pry it up wid
a crow-bar. Misther Jinnings, in the company's
store beyant, is jist after tellin' me. An' it 's
better have all the pipe-lines in Clarion county
freeze than ye! An' up on the top o' that high
hill, where the wind makes a clane swape, it '11 be
after cruddlin' the blood in your veins! Sure,
Micky darlint, I 'd not go at all, at all."
"I 'm after promising' the master that I 'd help
kape the fires the night, an' it's not that mane-
spirited I 'd be to back out o' me worrd for a thrifle
o' coldd"
And Micky, who was only a little fellow in spite
of his fifteen years, drew himself up to his full
height, and looked as manly as possible.
Sure, I'd think Misther Ludlow 'd have more
compashin than til ask ye, whin it 's not strong
ye are, an' the only bye iv a poor, lone widdy,"
Mrs. McGlinty went on.
"I do be as strong an' hairty as anny o' the
byes, an' I wish ye'd not always be sayin' it's
wakely I am, an' shamin' me," said Micky, with
much feeling.
"If ye were but that big an' hairty as Biddy,
now! "
And Mrs. McGlinty looked with affectionate
pride at her eldest daughter, who was tramping,
vigorously through the yard with a heavy bucket in
each hand, carrying their evening meal. to two
finee pigs," whose expectant gruntings sounded
from afar.
Hear the vice in her now-that strong an'
musical! It's only a wake little whisper ye have
beside it, Micky," pursued Mrs. McGlinty, as
Biddy, evidently irritated at the persistent clamor
of her charges, called out:
"Whist, now, ye bastes! Howld your tongues,
will ye ?-an' me com'n' til ye as fast as iver I can."
Biddy had a thin calico dress on, her sleeves
were rolled up above her elbows, and her head was
bare, but she did not seem to feel the cold in the
least.
Now, if 't was Biddy goin' to kape Watch o' the
fires I 'd not be afraid she 'd be after freezin'," said
Mrs. McGlinty.
"It's not after hirin' girls they are," said
Micky, scornfully. An' it's nobody but ye thinks
me wakely. An' may be it's as good as a girrl
ye '11 think I am, some day." And Micky buttoned
his coat, and tied h l sc r f on with great dignity.
VOL. VII.-53.
Il


"Och, now, Micky, me darlint, it's not gittin'
vexed ye are wid the owld mother that would give
the two eyes out iv her head for ye? Sure, do ye
s'pose I don't know that there don't be so smairt a
bye in the country, let alone qui't an' dacent? An'
do ye s'pose I 'm not after remimberin' whin the
strike was, two years ago agin April, how ye stud
up, an' ye a little felly, amongst all the men, that
was that mad they threatened to shoot ye, an' spoke
a good worrd for the master? An' don't I mind
whin the bridge tuk ye off, wid itself, in the big
freshet, an' ye bringing' the three foine little pigs
from Danny Casey, how everybody said ye were
that brave and smairt't was a wondther, an' ye after
bringing' wan foine little pig home all safe and sound,
let alone yourself ?-an' by the same token it's the
descindants o' that same fine little pig that's now
atin' their supper in the pin beyant. An' don't I
mind --"
I '11 be go'n' now, mother," said Micky, who
looked more shame-faced, now, at hearing his
heroic deeds recounted, than when he was called
"wakely." "An' sure you need n't be frettin',
for the fires '11 be after kapin' me warrm."
And with a motherly hug, and a repetition of
the plaint that she was a poor, lone widdy, and
he her only bye," Mrs. McGlinty was forced to
let him go.
The. pipe-lines, as they were called, were pipes
extending sometimes for many miles over hill and
dale, transporting the oil from the wells, where it
was struck," to the great tanks, near the rail-
road. In extremely cold weather, fires were built
beside the pipe, at intervals, to keep the oil from
freezing; and the fires had to be watched and
fed all through the night. Mr. Ludlow, the super-
intendent of the iron-mills where Micky worked,
was interested in the oil business, also; and he,
knowing Micky to be faithful, had hired him to
take the place of a man who was prevented by ill-
ness from serving. And Micky felt flattered, as
all the other watchers were men, and thought it
would be only good fun to tend the fires all night,
though the weather was cold.
Biddy came in with her empty buckets, her
hands and arms the color of a boiled lobster.
"The tips o' me ears an' the tip o' me nose
feels frosty-like, but it don't be that cold as they
says!" said she. "Sure, it'll no do harrm 'to
Micky, but toughen him, like."
I hope it 's not the onfalin' hairt ye have, Bid-


809


1880.1







WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED'-


dy, but ye 're that strong and hairty yerself, that
ye don't seem to ondtherstand how wakely Micky
do be, an' how the murtherin' cowld '11 take hold
iv him !" said her mother.
"It's not a chick or a young gosling he is, to be
kilt wid a thrifle o' cowld like this," said Biddy, as
she proceeded to feed Tam, the great black cat,
who was only second to the pigs in her regards.
But after her mother had thrown her apron over
her head, and run into Honora Cassidy's, next
door, to ease her mind with a bit of gossip, Biddy
kept going to the window and scraping away the
frost, with which it was thickly covered, though
there was a hot fire in the little room, looking out
with an expression of anxiety which did not seem
at all at home on her fat, round face, with its turn-
up nose and merry blue eyes. She seemed to be
trying to see how cold it was.
It do be orrfle cowld! Though I 'd not let on
to the mother, that 's frettin' the hairt out iv her
already. I wish it 's me they 'd take to mind
fires, in place o' Micky."
Meantime, "wakely" Micky was trudging cheer-
fully along on his way to Sugar Hill, where his
fires were to be built and taken care of. There
was a new moon, and the, stars were beginning to
shine brightly out through the far-away darkness
overhead. Micky had had a good, hot supper,
he was warmly clothed, he walked fast, he whistled
St. Patrick's Day," and did n't care a fig for the
cold. Already fires were blazing like beacons
from the hills around, looking as if they were try-
ing to rival the flames that went up from the great
chimneys of the iron-mills, and made all the land-
scape as light as day. This was the first time
that fires had been lighted along the pipe-line for
the winter, and it was now late in January, but
Jack Frost seemed determined to make up now
for the long mildness of his reign. Micky hur-
ried. It seemed to him that it grew colder every
moment, and he was afraid the oil would freeze in
the pipes on Sugar Hill before he got his fires
built.
The wood was there, ready for use, and in a
twinkling Micky had a fire which could hold its
own with any along the line. And oh, how good it
was to warm his stiffened fingers by it On Beech
Knoll, a quarter of a mile away, he had to build
another fire, and he was to keep those two fires
burning until daylight.
An aisy job it do be, an' a dollar an' a quarter
for it! said Micky to himself, with great delight.
Ah, Micky! It is only a little past six o'clock
now, and it will not be daylight until after six
to-morrow morning. Micky sat down beside his
Sugar Hill fire, and thought how comfortable and
warm it was. But before he had sat there long he


began to be conscious that, although his face and
hands were warm, there was a keen, cold wind at
his back; beside that roaring fire he was becoming
chilled and stiffened with the cold! He got up
and ran, as fast as he could, over to the brow of
another hill, where Gottlieb Meisel, a jolly old Ger-
man fiddler; was tending a fire. Gottlieb was
highly valued as a fire-tender, because, being
accustomed to sitting up all night at balls and
parties, he never fell asleep at his post. He had his
fiddle with him now, and was scraping away at it;
but the cold seemed to have affected the strings,-
a dismal screeching sounded through all the nierry
jigs.
She has vun very bad catarrh, and her heart
is also mit de cold broken Dance ve, or ve vill
be frozen, too !" said the old German. So they
spun away nimbly around the fire, Gottlieb still
scraping away at his fiddle; and a very funny sight
it must have .been, if there had been anybody to
see! The dance warmed Micky and revived his
spirits, which had begun to droop a little.
About midnight Gottlieb returned Micky's call,
but then poor Micky was thoroughly chilled, and
was having a desperate struggle to keep himself
awake; and Gottlieb did not seem to have suffi-
cient spirit to dance, but he solaced himself with
his pipe, and told Micky funny stories, which
helped to keep him awake.
But after Gottlieb went back, then came Micky's
tug of war. He did not dare to sit still for ten
minutes, because he knew he should fall fast asleep
if he did. He had to walk, backward and forward,
between his two fires,-he was too numb and stiff
to run,-and oh, how slowly the minutes dragged
by He had never been awake all night before in
his life. "Why did nobody iver tell me that it's a
whole wake long the nights is he said to himself,
over and over again.
And the cold was like nothing he had ever
known before. He began to think his mother was
right: the blood was almost "cruddled in his
veins."
The moon was wading through masses of white
clouds, that Micky thought looked exactly like
snow-dnifts, and the stars sparkled like little points
of ice.
The whole world an' the sky do be freez'n',"
thought Micky. And then he thought nothing more,
until a violent shaking aroused him, and there was
old Gottlieb standing over him, and telling him to
hurry home, or he would die of cold and want of
sleep; that it was almost five o'clock, and he
would take care of his fires until daylight.
Micky, feeling terribly ashamed that he had gone
to sleep and let his fire go almost out, declared that
he was not so wake-hairted as to leave his post


8io'


[AUGUST,






WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED.


for the cold and a thrifle o' slape in his eyes," but
when Gottlieb insisted, he had not strength to re-
fuse. He started for home, Gottlieb trying to
thoroughly awaken him and arouse his spirits by
coaxing from his "heart-broken" fiddle the lively
strains of "The Campbells are coming."


TE CAT WINKS AT BIDDY.
THE CAT WINKS AT BIDDY.


But even that was of no avail. Micky stumbled
as he walked, and felt a strange, dreadful stupor
creeping over him which he could not resist.
I '11 niver get home, niver! he cried.

Mrs. McGlinty slept but little that night, her
thoughts being with her bye out on the bleak
hill-top, in the freezing night; and she and Biddy
were up betimes in the morning, making a "rous-
ing" fire, and getting a nice hot breakfast-crisp
sausages and mealy, baked potatoes, and the cup
o' tay" that Micky liked as well as his mother.
But six o'clock came; seven, eight o'clock, and no
Micky By. that time Mrs. McGlinty was running
around the neighborhood with only her apron over
her head, asking everybody if they had heard or
seen anything of Micky. Nobody had. Biddy
ran every step of the two miles to Sugar Hill, but
there was nobody there to give her any tidings of
Micky. The sun was shining brightly, the weather
was growing warmer, and the fires had all been
allowed to go out. Then she went to Gottlieb
Meisel's house. She knew that he was one of the
fire-tenders, and he and Micky were always great
friends. When Gottlieb was thoroughly awakened


from the sound sleep which he was enjoying after his
long night-watch, he told Biddy that he had sent
Micky home before five o'clock, and had seen him
start off in a very cold and sleepy condition.
"Wheriver in the wide world did the poor bye
go, an' him kilt wid the cowld an' the slape in his
eyes cried Biddy.
.: '" May be it 's in at Pat-
"'': rick Casey's or Danny
SReardon's he stopped,
L an' him not able to get
home."
And away ran Biddy
to continue her search.
Very soon a dozen of
the neighbors had joined
in it; but though they
S' sought far and near, not
a trace of Micky was to
be found. By nightfall
most of them had set-
tled down to the belief
that Micky had run
away. To be sure, that
did not seem in the least
like Micky, who was a.
Squi't, dacent, hard-
workin' bye," and a
great favorite in the mill
Switch both master and
men. But what other
possible solution was
there of the mystery of his strange disappearance ?
It was only when the darkness of night came
down upon them that Mrs. McGlinty and Biddy
returned home. The small McGlintys-Patsy
and Johnny, Katie and little Bartholbmew-had
been left to their own devices all day, and had
enjoyed unlimited dirt, quarreling and general
mischief. Biddy seized them, scrubbed them
vigorously, combed their hair, and gave them
their supper. It was not Biddy's way to sit down
and weep, however heavy her heart might be.
Mrs. McGlinty swallowed -a "cup o' tay," and
then went off again, to seek consolation by talking
her woes over with the neighbors. The house
seemed "that dark and lonesome that she could
na 'bide it." Biddy, having sent all the children
to bed, sat down before the fire, and studied
the blazing coals, as if she could get them to tell
her what had become of Micky.
Tam, the great black cat, sat on the wood-box,
with Micky's old coat under him for a cushion.
Tam liked something soft under his old bones, and
seemed to have a particular fondness for anything
that was Micky's. He had been Micky's espe-
cial pet and property ever since the cold winter


8II


188o.J


I








812 WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED. [AUGUST,


night, seven years before, when he had come to
the door, a very small, stray kitten, lean, and lank,
and shrill-voiced, and Micky had taken him into
his own bed, and shared his supper with him. He
seemed, then, a very subdued and serious-minded
kitten, but it soon proved that that appearance
was only the effect of early hardships. Under the
genial influences of warmth and good living, he
developed into a round, black, fluffy ball of a
kitten, which seemed to be the embodied spirit of
mischief. He dipped into every milk-pan in the
neighborhood, ate out the middle of all the squash
pies, and helped himself to steaks and chops out
of the butcher's wagon. He killed all the chick-
ens in the little town, and the widow Casey's
canary-bird. He tore up everything that came in
his way, with his sharp little white teeth, like a
dog. He whipped dogs twice as large as himself,
so that they dropped their tails between their legs
and slunk away when they saw him coming. Dick
Ludlow, the superintendent's son, named him
Tam o' Shanter, and as Tam he was known all
over the neighborhood. Every day his life was
threatened, either by Mrs. McGlinty, who declared
he was--' Owld Nick himself," or by some angry
neighbor on whom he had played his pranks; but
Micky was never off his guard. Nothing should
happen to Tam while he could help it; upon that
he was resolved. He took all his savings to pay
for the chickens that Tam caught, and more than
once he protected Tam's life at the risk of bodily
injury to himself. Now "cathood, with careful
mind," had come to Tam; he had forgotten his
kittenish pranks; he had grown to an enormous
size, and acquired great dignity of manner. But
the neighbors still shook their heads over him,
declaring that he had quare ways for a cat," and
there were some who did not scruple to assert their
belief that he was "a witch." Mrs. McGlinty
herself said that he was wiser than a Christian,
an' could tell forchins if he chose."
Certain it is that Tam knew enough to be grate-
ful, so perhaps he was wiser than some Christians.
On this night, while Biddy looked into the fire,
Tam sat on Micky's coat, staring straight at her.
Oh, Tam, ye 're that wise, an' some o' them
says ye're a witch Can't ye be after tellin' where
Micky do be ?"
Tam looked straight at her with his great yel-
low eyes, and uttered a piteous howl.
He don't be throwned in the river, for the ice
is that thick the teams is go'n' over. He don't be
anny place in the mill, nor in anybody's house.
Micky 'd niver run away !-that do be foolishness.
It's dead he must be, or he'd come home til us."
Tam got off the wood-box, and sat down at
Biddy's feet and looked up in her face.


"He do act quare," said Biddy to herself.
"But he do be lonesome after Micky. 0 Micky I
Wheriver are ye ? It's not gone to see an oil-
well he is; there don't be anny new one. It 's not
in the mines he is, for sure he 'd come home from
there. There do be the owld mine at the fut of
Sugar Hill; sure, it's in there he might have gone
to get warrm."
Tam winked his right eye,-winked eagerly,
yet with a sort of deliberation.
The saints be good til us If iver I seen a
cat wink cried Biddy. Tam, is it a witch ye
are, an' are ye manin' that Micky do be in the owld
mine? But what would kape him from coming'
home ? "
Tam jumped into Biddy's lap, looked her
straight in the eyes, and winked again, solemnly !
Biddy crossed herself, devoutly.
If it's a witch he is, he '11 fly out through the
windy, now," she said.
But, instead of "flying through the .windy,"
Tam winked again, three times with the same eye.
"I can't stand it any longer!" cried Biddy,
jumping up. Sure it '11 do no harrm to go up til
the owld mine!" And, hastily throwing on her
shawl and hood, Biddy started, on the run, for the
old mine, which ran into the heart of Sugar Hill.
" It do be always warrm in the mines, an' him kilt
wid the cowld, poor bye, an' he 'd not mind that it
don't be safe, wid the props broke an' it likely to
cave in anny place. He don't niver be afeard of
annythin', Micky don't! "
And Biddy's heart stood still with fear, as she
remembered that everybody had been warned
not to.go into the old mine, and that it would
be like Micky to go, if he wanted to, in spite of
the warning.
The weather was much warmer, and there were
no fires along the pipe-line. The sky was over-
cast, and only the fires from the iron-mills showed
Biddy her way. She reached the little hollow
scooped out between the hills, where the entrance
to the old mine was. The hearts of all the hills
held treasures of iron or coal, and the mines were
only long tunnels leading straight into their hearts.
Biddy knew the old mine well. She stepped inside
the little square entrance, and lighted the little
miner's lamp which had been her father's, and
which she had, fortunately, not forgotten to bring.
The air inside the mine seemed warm and damp,
like that of a hot-house. The timbers over Biddy's
head seemed, many of them, on the point of fall-
ing, and, where they had fallen, masses of loosened
rock and earth seemed only kept from 'crashing
down by some invisible hand. A track was laid in
the mine, just wide enough for the little drays,
drawn by donkeys, which carried out the ore; and


812


WHY THE .BLACK CAT WINKED.


[AUGUST,







WHY THE BLACK CAT WINKED.


along the narrow rails Biddy had to pick her way,
the mud and water were so deep on either side.
She called, Micky Micky as loud as she
could; and only the echoes answered.
Micky 'd niver come in this dthirty place, an'
it's the fool I am to come, all along iv a cat's
winkin'-but, indade, it's that known' the baste
looked! I'll be after goin' a thrifle farther," she
said to lBerself. But a few steps farther brought
Biddy to a sudden stop. There had been a fall of
stones and earth, and the passage was completely


DANCING WARMS YOU UP BETTE]


filled! Biddy's experienced eye told her that it
was a recent fall, and- she remembered that the
miners said such accidents were more common in
cold weather. Was Micky buried under it? The
thought made poor Biddy sick and faint, but she
had strength for one despairing cry: "Micky!
0 Micky !"
Did a faint, far-away voice answer her? Or was
it only an echo from the tunnel behind her?


She called again. Her lungs were sound, and
this shout would have awakened every one of the
Seven Sleepers.
"Here! Here! Help! O help!" answered a
voice from beyond the barrier-Micky's voice.
Kape up yer hairt, Micky darlint!" Biddy
uttered that one shout, every word of which must
have reached Micky's ears, and then she started to
run for help.
No picking her way now! Biddy dashed and
splashed through water and mire, scarcely conscious







































R THAN SHIVERING. [PAGE 81O.]
that she was wet to the knees. Not far off lived
Patrick Casey and Danny Reardon, good friends
of the McGlintys-as, indeed, was everybody in the
town. In a very short space of time their strong
arms were digging a passage-way to Micky's prison.
They had to work carefully, lest any jarring should
bring another avalanche down upon them. A
small opening was enough for Micky to crawl
through, and he was soon free. Haggard and
through, and he was soon fre'e. Haggard and


813







COMBINING PLEASURE WITH DUTY,


worn, as if with months of illness, his face looked,
;as the light of Biddy's lamp fell upon it. He had
gone in to get warm, and had dropped down and
fallen asleep on the first dry spot of ground. The
mine had caved in only a few feet from where
he lay, and the crash had awakened him. He had
spent but one day in his awful prison; it seemed
to him a week.
Great were the rejoicings at the "Widdy
McGlinty's." And Tam sat, in deep content, on
Micky's knee, and Biddy told the neighbors about
his winking when she had mentioned the old mine,
and that she should never have gone but for that.
And they all looked with great awe at Tam, and
the Widow Lannigan shook her head solemnly,
and called upon the whole company to witness that
she had always said Tam was a witch.
And while they were all talking about him, Tam
looked up into Micky's face, and winked again,


solemnly. Then up spoke Patsy McGlinty, a red-
haired little Irishman of nine years, who had
crawled out of bed to grace the festive scene.
"He do be wink'n', an' wink'n', all day, iver
since Katie poured the bucket o' slack over
him! "
Now, "slack" is coal-dust, and could not have
been a grateful shower-bath to poor Tam.
"It's a big piece o' coal do be in his eye!"
cried Micky. And with as much sinse as a
Christian," Tam let Micky get the coal out.
"Av coorse it was the bit o' coal made him
wink, the poor baste," said one of the men; and
the witch theory seemed to be generally aban-
doned. But not by the Widow Lannigan. She
said, with many solemn head-shakings: Yez can
say what yez plaze, he was niver a right cat."
And Biddy, too, always had a doubt whether or
not it was only the bit of coal that made Tam wink.


COMBINING PLEASURE WITH DUTY.


814


[AUGusT,






A LITTLE WAVE'S HISTORY.


THE WOODMAN'S DAUGHTER.

BY Joy ALLISON.


A WOODMAN lived in a forest wild;
He was poor as poor could be-
His only treasure a maiden child.
Bonny and brave was she,
And she kept his hearth all warm and bright,
And welcomed him home with a kiss at night.

Three robbers passed through the lonely wood
They stopped at the cottage door.
" My fair little maid, now give us food."
Said she, "I have no more
Than a cup of tea and an oaten cake,
And Father his supper of that must make."

"Go, bring us quickly the oaten cake,
And bring us the cup of tea.
We 're weary and hungry," the robbers spake,-
'T will be little enough for three."
"But Father," she said, "has toiled all day;
I cannot give his supper away."


The robbers laughed both loud and long;
A plucky lass they said.
S"But give us a kiss, and we'll be gone,
And leave you the oaten bread."
"Nay! That," she said, "I cannot do:
I keep my kisses for Father, too "

"We could swoop you up, my little maid,-
You and your oaten cake,
And carry you off!--Are you not afraid?-
Where none could overtake."
Her cheek grew white with a hidden fear:
"I know," she said,-"but God is here "

The father came, with the set of sun,
Home to his cottage door.
- "I am hungry and tired; my little one;
What hast thou for me in store ?"
"Supper is ready Give thanks said she;
"We have oaten bread, and a cup of tea."


A LITTLE WAVE'S HISTORY.

BY T. C. H.


"TELL us a story about what you 've seen this
summer !"
Five little folk grouped about me before an
open wood-fire, at the close of an October day
of wind and snow, and I, the victim of the above
demand, was lying on the rug, ready to be amused
and entertained.
"Must I tell the story after all? Well, what
shall it be ? Shall I tell you about my travels,
and the funny little Swiss children, or shall I tell
you what a little wave told me one day, as I sat on
the rocks and watched it playing in the great
ocean?"
"The wave! The wave!" cried'one and all.
And so I began:
My home was in a mountain in Switzerland,"
,the little wave said, "near an old hut, amidst
mosses and ferns. I was very small; so small you
could scarcely see me, except when the sun shone
on my face, and made little dimples in my cheeks.


I was very merry, and the boy who lived in the
hut near by used to throw me pebbles and bright
red berries, and sometimes gave me his yellow
curls to play with. You might think I was afraid
of the great mountains that towered up at my
back, and I used to hear people say, as they
passed, 'The mountains are frowning.' But I
could never understand what they meant, for the
great, strong things were always friendly to me,
and the one in which I lived was very grateful
when I would trickle down its side, and give the
thirsty ferns and berries water to drink. Well,
I was a'happy little thing, with meadows before
me, the music of cow-bells day and evening, and
the smiling heavens over my head. But, just as
little children grow larger and eager to see more
of the world, so I grew larger and less patient, and
began to dream about the big ocean, which the
boy was always talking about, where, he said,
his father sailed big ships, and the moon and stars


815


088o.]






A LITTLE WAVE'S HISTORY.


THE WOODMAN'S DAUGHTER.

BY Joy ALLISON.


A WOODMAN lived in a forest wild;
He was poor as poor could be-
His only treasure a maiden child.
Bonny and brave was she,
And she kept his hearth all warm and bright,
And welcomed him home with a kiss at night.

Three robbers passed through the lonely wood
They stopped at the cottage door.
" My fair little maid, now give us food."
Said she, "I have no more
Than a cup of tea and an oaten cake,
And Father his supper of that must make."

"Go, bring us quickly the oaten cake,
And bring us the cup of tea.
We 're weary and hungry," the robbers spake,-
'T will be little enough for three."
"But Father," she said, "has toiled all day;
I cannot give his supper away."


The robbers laughed both loud and long;
A plucky lass they said.
S"But give us a kiss, and we'll be gone,
And leave you the oaten bread."
"Nay! That," she said, "I cannot do:
I keep my kisses for Father, too "

"We could swoop you up, my little maid,-
You and your oaten cake,
And carry you off!--Are you not afraid?-
Where none could overtake."
Her cheek grew white with a hidden fear:
"I know," she said,-"but God is here "

The father came, with the set of sun,
Home to his cottage door.
- "I am hungry and tired; my little one;
What hast thou for me in store ?"
"Supper is ready Give thanks said she;
"We have oaten bread, and a cup of tea."


A LITTLE WAVE'S HISTORY.

BY T. C. H.


"TELL us a story about what you 've seen this
summer !"
Five little folk grouped about me before an
open wood-fire, at the close of an October day
of wind and snow, and I, the victim of the above
demand, was lying on the rug, ready to be amused
and entertained.
"Must I tell the story after all? Well, what
shall it be ? Shall I tell you about my travels,
and the funny little Swiss children, or shall I tell
you what a little wave told me one day, as I sat on
the rocks and watched it playing in the great
ocean?"
"The wave! The wave!" cried'one and all.
And so I began:
My home was in a mountain in Switzerland,"
,the little wave said, "near an old hut, amidst
mosses and ferns. I was very small; so small you
could scarcely see me, except when the sun shone
on my face, and made little dimples in my cheeks.


I was very merry, and the boy who lived in the
hut near by used to throw me pebbles and bright
red berries, and sometimes gave me his yellow
curls to play with. You might think I was afraid
of the great mountains that towered up at my
back, and I used to hear people say, as they
passed, 'The mountains are frowning.' But I
could never understand what they meant, for the
great, strong things were always friendly to me,
and the one in which I lived was very grateful
when I would trickle down its side, and give the
thirsty ferns and berries water to drink. Well,
I was a'happy little thing, with meadows before
me, the music of cow-bells day and evening, and
the smiling heavens over my head. But, just as
little children grow larger and eager to see more
of the world, so I grew larger and less patient, and
began to dream about the big ocean, which the
boy was always talking about, where, he said,
his father sailed big ships, and the moon and stars


815


088o.]






A LITTLE WAVE'S HISTORY.


best loved to shine. To be sure, the sun coaxed
me to forget such things through the day, but
every night, when the sun and world had gone to
sleep, I would look straight up at the stars, and
beg them to tell me all about it. You see, I was
only a very tiny mountain-brook, after all, and
had never seen the great ocean, so far away.
One day the wind came in a flurry, and whis-
pered strange things to me; the thunder-clouds
began to cover the mountain-peaks; the lightning
broke the clouds into pieces, and down came a flood
of pouring rain. The earth about me was scat-
tered everywhere, and down I came, bursting my
prison-bars, tumbling, rollicking, half in terror,
half in delight, and unconscious of what was
coming. Other streams ran by me, as joyous and
eager as I, and, joining them, I found out that I
was really on my longed-for journey to the ocean !
O:joy !' I cried aloud, and hurried on, with
wonderful visions in my brain. I should soon be
part of a great river, they told me, and flow into
a lake. And I did, and a pretty blue lake it was,
and a happy child was I for many days.
"But still, the lake was not the ocean, and
though I made friends with the leaves and little
islands scattered everywhere, yet I secretly resolved
to tell the lady of the lake all about it, and ask her
to let me go. She came in the night, gliding
along in e .il..- 1 boat, with two swans at its head, up
to where i :i,- near the sandy shore, and told me
of an outlet far off. To this she led me, and, with
a wave of her wand, she bade me be free !
Oh, how wild I grew and how vain I was, and
how proud of my strength! I would show the
people in the castle, far off there, what I could
do Four days the wind raged, and I raged, too,
tumbling the rocks about in my bed with so furious
a noise that people afterward said it was louder
than the roar of breakers on the beach. I tore up
trees, banks, grasses, stones and great rocks. I
let dams loose, threw pine-trees across wood-paths,
laying bare to the world their snake-like roots.
On, on in my fury, winding in and out, behind
mountains, by great castles, anywhere where I
could astonish and frighten But when I came to
the valley which the clouds were bathing in golden
glory, little flecks of pink and blue floating in their
midst; where, over the tops of the mountains, a
rainbow was arching itself, each end resting in the
valley below; and where, sweetest of all, I could
hear children's voices chanting at vespers, I began


to grow ashamed of my wildness, to flow more
and more slowly, and to be sorry that I should be
so impatient and restless. I was truly sorry for
my naughtiness, and when I looked at the beauti-
ful rainbow and thought of Him who put it there
just for me, perhaps, I said softly to myself: 'If
God will only let me be a little wave in the great
sea, I will go leagues and leagues, never be fretful
again, and wait just as long as He wants me to.'
"And I did grow patient, and, though I never
thought I was pretty, children called me beautiful,
trees and foliage looked down into my heart, and
the willows hung their waving tresses over me.
Birds came, too, and made me almost delirious
with their sweet carolings. All the world of nature
smiled and nodded at me, and I never asked my,
self where I was going, but flowed on, with my
secret longing locked up in my bosom,-God only
holding the key.
Do you wonder, then, when the boundless ocean
burst upon my sight, and I knew that in one short
hour I should be a part of it, that, not with the
old wildness and dash, but quietly and singing
praises, I went along, sometimes losing sight of
my love, but always knowing it was awaiting me
with open arms? And now, here I am, one of its
own children, a real little wave of the great sea,
and I beat against the rocks where people sit and
dream, and tell my life to all who will listen. The
moon and stars and the warm sunshine are my
constant friends: the world beneath is far more
beautiful than I can 'tell you,-coral islands, stately
castles, and beautiful maidens who shimmer the
ocean with wondrous colors,-blue, emerald, ame-
thyst and gold. Sometimes, when the ocean is so
radiant with color, I dream of the Swiss valley and
mountains, and of the rainbow that taught me
patience and trust, and wonder if God has reflected
its beauty here for my sake. So I sing and splash
against the rocks with'constant rejoicings for my
happiness."
That is the end, children," I said, after a long
silence had followed, and hopeful eyes were gazing
deep into the dying embers. "And now you
must scamper off to bed. Don't forget to think of
the wave and its history when you are impatient,
and feel you cannot wait longer for what you
want."
And I kissed the upturned faces, with a bless-
ing in my heart for the little wave singing and
tumbling about the rocks in the dark night.


816


[AUGUST,






THE AIRPORT NINE.


THE AIRPORT NINE.

BY NOAH BROOKS.


CHAPTER VII.

THE GRAND MUSTER.

THE camp was finished, and, before dawn one
Saturday morning, the Nine, otherwise the martial
fourteen, assembled at the old fort as a rendezvous.
They came in stragglingly, Captain Sam fretting
at the delay. Sam Murch was late, having over-


the muster field, and they were to spend one night
in camp, although the smaller boys looked forward
to a night in the woods with secret dread.
SIt was not a cheerful time of day to begin opera-
tions. The air was chilly, although it was mid-
summer; and the darkness of the hour, relieved
only by a gray twilight in the east, was somewhat
depressing to the lads, unaccustomed as they were
to being abroad at that time of day. Hi Hatch


THE NINE IN CAMP.


slept himself, and there had been rumors that his
wicked brother had tied him to the bed-post so that
he should not join the Nine in their celebration.
Finally, however, the company started, not in
military array, for each soldier was encumbered
with a share of camp equipage. No muster could
be complete without a genuine camping out, and
the valiant Nine had resolved to do everything that
should reflect credit on them as real soldiers.
They were to start before daylight, as that was the
way that the Hancock Guards had to start to go to
the muster at Orland. They were to get break-
fast in camp, as that, too, was the manner of life on


confided to his chum, Bill Watson, his belief that
his mother would miss him awfully at breakfast.
At this, Bill, who had a hankering for his usual
comfortable breakfast at home, shivered, and said:
"This is n't half so good fun as I thought it
was a-going to be." Bill was loaded with a frying-
pan, a basket of provisions, and a lance and car-
tridge-box. These latter accouterments were part
of his military outfit, although there was no real
reason for carrying the empty cartridge-box in a
company of lancers, except for show.
The exercise of walking warmed up the soldiers
to a healthy glow, and when they reached the


' */


i88o.]


817





THE AIRPORT NINE.


stone wall which separated the fort-pasture from
"Perkins's Back," as the place of their camping-
ground was called, each- boy sturdily declined
Captain Sam's invitation and permission to sit
down and take a rest. They all pressed on to the
canfp; but no boy confided to any other boy his
secret fear that Jo Murch, or some of The White
Bears," had destroyed their camp in the night.
Until the safety of that structure was assured to
them, each boy of the party had a sinking feeling
right under the middle button of his jacket-front;
and it was with a wild hurrah of relief that, having
hurried through the last spruce thickets, they came
in full view of the camp, which was safe and un-
touched, in the twilight of the woods.
It 's all right, fellows I shouted Sam Perkins,
with a gust of joy.
Of course it's all right," replied Pat Adams.
" Who said it would n't be ? "
No boy was willing to confess that he had had
any fears on the subject, though each one of them
was surprised that the enemy had not destroyed
their work, long ago.
Now, then, my hearties, we '11 have a rousing
fire and a hot breakfast, quicker 'n a cat can lick
her ear, as my grandpa says !" cried Captain Sam.
" Hi Hatch, Sam Black and Billy Hetherington
will get up some drift-wood from the shore, Ned
Martin and I will build the fire and unpack the
grub, and George Bridges and the rest of the fel-
lows will do the cooking. George is boss cook,
anyhow."
The boys cheerfully agreed to this last statement,
because George, besides being a good-natured fel-
low, had been to sea, one voyage, and had had
some experience in the galley of a coasting
schooner.
But there were signs of mutiny at the peremp-
tory orders of Captain Sam.
"'Pears to me," muttered Billy Hetherington,
as the three boys scrambled down the bank to the
shore, "that Sam Perkins is putting on a sight of
airs. I aint a-going to be ordered about by him
all day; now you just mind."
Oh, well, Billy," said Blackie, "you know he
is captain and we are in camp. What's to become
of military discipline, if we don't obey orders?
You know the old saying: 'Obey orders, if you
break owners,' and I s'pose that that is just as good
for soldiers as for sailors."
"Besides," broke in Sam Murch, "I 'd sooner
lug wood than cook. I hate cooking."
The idea that little Sam had ever done enough
cooking to have any opinion about it so tickled the
other two boys that they burst into a hearty laugh
and went to picking up the drift-wood cheerily, and
soon clambered back to the dewy hill-side above,


where their comrades had already started a fire
with the dry litter from the camp-making.
Sun-up! Sun-up !" shouted "the Lob," and
the yellow rays of the August sun were sifted down
among the tree tops, and the distant shore of Long
Island was all aflame with the golden light. The
sun cheered the boys, who watched the cooking of
ham and eggs, and coffee, with great interest.
Ned Martin buried potatoes in the ashes, and
burned his hands in getting at them to see if they
were baked.
"Look out, old sorrel-top cried Captain Sam,
good-humoredly; "you 'll burn your head off, if
you don't take care."
Ned did not like being called sorrel-top, although
his hair was red, but he said nothing more unpleas-
ant in retort than'" Drat the fire It's the hottest
fire I ever did see."
Ned would n't stand that from anybody but
Sam," said Billy Hetherington.
Fortunately, nobody was disposed to discuss this
subject, and breakfast went on right merrily. It is
true that the coffee was Rileyy," as the boys said,
hot to say muddy, and that some of the ham was
burned to a crisp, and some was nearly raw; and
there were bits of cinders sprinkled all over the
fried eggs. But when did a healthy boy's appetite
rebel at such trifles as these? Then there were
thick and well-buttered slices of white bread,-the
best bread that any boy's mother ever made,-and
brought to the camp by the different boys who
each had a mother who made the best bread in the
world.
It was even voted that this breakfast was the
noblest meal that any of them had ever eaten in
their lives. Hi Hatch sighed no more for the fried
hasty-pudding and hot coffee which he knew his
sisters at home were, at that moment, eating at his
mother's breakfast-table. It was the golden hour
of a day in the woods. Such hours do not come
to us when we are grown-up men and women.
"I should think we might have just one pie,"
grumbled "the Lob," who dearly loved pie.
"For shame John Kidder Hale !" said Captain
Sam, with all the sternness he could command.
"Aint you a nice fellow to invite a lot of girls to
come down here and see our sham-fight, and then
go and eat up the pies before they come. Who says
pie?" demanded the captain, looking around on
the company, most of whom were lazily basking in
the sun. "Who says pie?" There was no re-
sponse, -,ih.1.i..h "the Lob looked about him to
see if some other fellow would not help him out
with a vote. "Nobody says pie," cried Sam, dis-
dainfully, and the motion is lost, so now." And
that settled it.
Later in the morning, when the camp had been


818


[AUGUST,






THE AIRPORT NINE.


put in order, and the boys had each taken a refresh-
ing dip in the salt sea waves, the lookout in the top
of a tall lone pine, Sam Murch, cried: The girls
are in sight, on the top of the hill, back of the
fort !"
Instantly everything was in a tumult of prepara-
tion. It was one of the events of the day when
the girls came to camp.
The company was formed in line, rather a strag-
gling one, to be sure, as the ground was hilly and
broken ; but it was with great pride and satisfaction
that the illustrious and martial Nine, otherwise
fourteen, marched up through the thickets, in
single file, drum beating and fife shrilly playing, to
escort the young ladies to camp. There was the
flag at the head of the column, proudly borne by
Billy Hetherington, standard-bearer, and there
marched Captain Sam, brave in all the glory of a
red plume in his cap and a red sash around his
waist. He brandished his glittering tin sword,
crying, as he did so, Come on, my brave lads,-
the path of duty is the way to glory! Nobody
knew exactly what that meant; even Sam was not
sure in his own mind where he had read it, but it
sounded very fine, for all that.
The girls, approaching from the old fort, saw the
valiant band issue from the woods in bright array,
or in as bright array as the circumstances would
permit. With beaming looks, the fair guests drew
near and stood in a little half-frightened huddle as
Captain Sam shouted, "Attention, company!
Three cheers for the ladies! The cheers were
given with a will, and the echoing woods repeated
"the shrill hurrahs.
Present arms! was the next command, and
the old soldiers presented their lances in quite exact
order, each man holding his weapon perpendicu-
larly in front of his body.
Now, then, come on, girls," said Sam, wheeling
his company about so as to lead the way.
"Well, I should think!" cried Alice Martin.
"Why don't you let us go ahead ? I don't believe
it 's good manners for a military company to go
before the girls like that. Do you, Phoebe? "
Phoebe Noyes was not sure, but she thought that
there ought to be a clear understanding as to what
was right before they went any farther. Sarah
Judkins, a tall and freckle-faced girl, whose elder
brother was the ensign of the Hancock Guards,
and who, for that reason, was an authority in
military matters, thought that the soldiers ought
to divide and one-half march on each side of the
ladies, as they were the guests of the military.
"Just like pall-bearers! shouted her small
brother, Tobias, who was one of the new recruits of
the Fairport Nine. "Shut up, sauce-box!" cried
Captain Sam. "We'll divide the company, and


half shall go before and half behind the girls-
ladies, I mean, and that '11 be about right." To
this Sarah assented, and the procession moved on
to the camp.
It was not a very orderly march, as the ground
was rough and it was often necessary for the
standard-bearer to lower his flag, in order to pass
under the trees. Besides, the girls would talk with
the boys in the ranks, and it was in vain that
Captain Sam, looking straight ahead into the
woods, cried: Silence in the ranks It seemed
to the boys almost a week since they had been away
from their own homes, and they were anxious to hear
what was going on in the village while they had
been camping out in the woods.
"That mean Jo Murch says he is coming down
to burn down your camp, to-night," said Sarah
Judkins, to soothe the feelings of the boy nearest
her, who had been saying that the camp was the
best ever built in Perkins's Back."
I'd like to catch him at it! cried Sam Per-
kins, forgetting discipline in his rage.
"Silence in the ranks!" screamed Sarah, who
had never agreed with Sam since he had given his
maple sugar to another girl, right before her face,
although it was very well known that he had been
going home with Sarah from singing-school nearly
all the winter before.
"So I say. Silence in the ranks! answered
Sam, without a blush. Then everybody laughed,
and the procession entered the camping-ground,
and the military escort was dismissed "for tempo-
rary," as the captain graciously explained.

CHAPTER VIII.

HISTORY WITH MODERN IMPROVEMENTS.

THE chief event of the day was to be the sham-
fight. The regular militia always had a sham-fight,
and the Nine could not possibly think of going
through a muster without one. Indeed, the camp
had been selected with a view to this very purpose.
It was on a tolerably level piece of ground, just
above that part of the rocky shore on which the
American forces landed, in 1779, when the British
held the town and all the rest of the peninsula.
From the camp-ground to the shore the land
shelved steeply downward; and it was up this high
and rugged bluff that the patriot troops clambered
and displaced the British.
Billy Hetherington, who had a personal interest
in this fight, as one of his ancestors was engaged
in it, was of the opinion that it was not much to be
proud of. They got licked like everything, after-
ward, when they might have taken Fort George,
and did n't do it," explained Billy. "And as for


r88o.]


819






THE AIRPORT NINE.


me, I 'd rather be one of the British soldiers, to-day,
because if we ever have another sham-fight on the
old fort, I shall be on hand and drive you fellows
off, just as the British drove Saltonstall, in the war."
This was felt to be almost treasonable. No boy
had ever dared to say a word in favor of the British,
whose name was detested in Fairport, although the
Revolutionary War was now a great way behind in
the history of the town. But, as Billy came of
Revolutionary stock, his patriotism was not to be
made light of, and the other boys wondered at the
amount of his knowledge of those distant events.


talk and Sarah swung her bonnet vigorously by
the strings, as was her manner when she was
excited.
I don't care," broke in Captain Sam, whether
the Americans were defeated afterward or not.
They fought like tigers right here, and if they did
have to take to their ships and scud off, when they
might have captured the fort and taken the town,
it was a brave thing to do, anyhow."
"That's what I say, Sam," said Alice Martin,
her blue eyes glistening. And it was a wicked,
wicked thing for those horrid British to chase the


THE SHAM BATTLE.


It was supposed that. he had, somehow, inherited
it from the famous general whose name he bore.
Sarah Judkins, who probably knew more than any
other girl in town, was also able to throw some light
on the matter.
"Land sakes alive !" she cried; "it was not the
fault of the Americans that they did not whip the
British. It was Saltonstall's fault. Did n't his men
all want to be led against the British in the fort,
after they had captured this point? And didn't
Commodore Saltonstall refuse, because he had
been bought with British gold ? Law me How you


Americans in their ships, and drive 'em ashore and
wreck 'em all to pieces, as they did, all up and
down the Penobscot River."
Here one of the girls reminded the party that
Paul Revere, the hero of Longfellow's poein, The
Midnight Ride of Paul Revere," was in command
of the ordnance of the ill-fated expedition from
Massachusetts Bay, which landed at this place.
"Well, for that matter," said Sarah, who
knew everything, "Longfellow's great-grandfather,
General Peleg Wadsworth, was second in command,
and if he had been first, I just believe he would have


820 '


Ii. 't


[AUGUST,






THE AIRPORT NINE.


got into the fort before the next day, instead of
waiting, as Lovell and he had to, until Saltonstall,
the coward, gave the word."
She might have added, though every boy in
Fairport knew it, that another famous character in
that memorable siege was a Lieutenant Moore, of
the British 82d Foot, afterward known as Sir John
Moore, who was killed at Corunna, Spain, in 1809.
When the school-boys of Fairport recited, as each
one of them did as often as permitted, the lines
beginning
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,"
they felt as if they had had an intimate acquaint-
ance with the brave and unfortunate man who once
did subaltern duty in the colonial town, so many
years ago.
There was some difficulty in getting members of
the company to play the part of British troops, as
almost every boy preferred being a patriot soldier
on this particular occasion. Sarah volunteered to
lead a British column, if none of the boys were
willing to serve. This offer so shamed George
Bridges that he agreed to be a British soldier for
this time only, and Billy Hetherington had already
said he preferred that service, having an eye to a
victory at some future time.
Blackie naturally joined the company of his
chum; and as there were only fourteen boys, seven
on a side, this left but four more to be. provided.
Sarah Judkins commanded her brother Tobias to
fight for the British, which he consented to do,
though with a very ill grace. Captain Sam then
boldly conscripted," as he called it, little Sam
Murch, Charlie Mead and Tom Tilden to be
British defenders.
There was some murmuring in the ranks of the
American troops that the newest recruits-Tobias,
Charlie, Sam Murch and Tom Tilden-should be
selected to fight as British. It was felt to be an
intentional slight on these latest additions to the
military nine, which was now fourteen. Never
mind," whispered Tom, who was a gifted fighter;
"we '11 lick 'em, anyhow."
The attacking party, consisting of Captain Sam,
his trusty lieutenant, Ned Martin, the Lob," Hi
Hatch, Pat Adams, Bill Watson, and one new
recruit, Ralph Jackson, were stationed at Trask's
rock, for at this point the American patriots were
said to have landed. Tradition says that a fifer
boy, by the name of Trask, was put behind this
big boulder to 'play his fife while the attacking
party made the ascent of the bluff.
Unhappily, Sam Black, the only boy in the
Nine who could play the fife, was in the British
service at the top of the bluff, and could not be
induced to come down and fife for the patriots.
And then the British forces suddenly discovered


that they had all the music to themselves. George
Bridges, at a hint from Sarah Judkins, began to
beat his drum, before the American forces were
ready to begin the attack, and Sam Black blew his
fife as well as he could for laughing-it was so funny
to think that the besieged party should have all
the music.
When Saltonstall's forces, numbering about four
hundred men, landed on this point, in July, 1779,
the marines were on the left of the attack. Cap-
tain Sam represented the marines, supported by
" the Lob." Ned Martin, in the center, kept up an
incessant fire of musketry to distract the attention
of the enemy (see Williamson's History of Maine),
while the right, consisting of the rest of the party,
and commanded by Hi Hatch, stormed the British
position, held by Billy Hetherington.
It was a gallant fight!
The British, being posted on the brow of the
steep bluff, had a tremendous advantage. They
poured a galling fire of shouts and cries, occasion-
ally mingled with clumps of wet moss, upon the
heads of the besiegers. The young ladies, who
seemed to sympathize with the British, encouraged
the besieged with remarks upon the slowness with
which the rebels got up the hill.
In the original fight, the right of the attacking
force pressed hard upon the British left and cap-
tured a small battery, represented on this occasion
by the standard of the Nine. Hiram, cheered
on by Captain Sam from the left, made a bold
dash for the battery, and was on the point of seiz-
ing it, when Sam Black, indignant at this desecra-
tion of the Nine's standard, snatched it and ran.
Here Here That's no fair play shouted
Captain Sam. But Blackie paid no heed to his
commander's warning, and Hiram, pursuing the
standard-bearer, was stopped by Billy Hethering-
ton, who covered the retreat of his friend with a big
wad of wet moss, which struck Hiram full in the
face. Hi was too good-natured to resent this, but
sat down on the bank and laughed until the tears
flowed.
"You 're a nice lot of fellows to play American
patriots exclaimed Captain Sam, angrily. "Why
don't you put the invaders to flight? Down with
the tyrants! "
But it was in vain. Tom Tilden, at this critical
moment, let fly a ball of soft, wet clay, which, tak-
ing Captain Sam in the eye, closed that organ
for the time being.
Tom shouted, in triumph, "Out on the first
base !"
At this, Ned Martin, who had kept up his inces-
sant firing, according to orders, by continually
bawling "Bang! Bang! now dropped that branch
of the service, and flew up the bluff as well as its


821


X880.]








822 THE AIRPORT NINE. [AUGUST,


shelving surface would permit. He was met at the
top by Charlie Mead,' who belabored the enemy
over the head with a huge bough of spruce. The
rough sprays scratched the face of the lieutenant,
who made a grab for that weapon and pulled his
enemy off the bank, and both rolled together to
the bottom, amid the cries of the young lady
spectators, who exclaimed:
"Why, they 're fighting !"
But the two combatants amicably went to Cap-
tain Sam's assistance,'as he was trying to wash the
blue clay out of his eye.
Meantime, the contest raged above them, on the
bluff. 'Pat Adams, who saw nothing but a shame-
ful defeat for the American troops, to the great
confusion of all history, boldly charged into a group
of girls at the top of the bluff, crying, after the man-
ner of Major Pitcairn at Bunker Hill, "Disperse,
ye rebels! Lay down your arms and disperse! "
But the girls, forgetting that they were not
American rebels, nor even British regulars, but
peaceful non-combatants, closed around Pat and
made him a willing prisoner. Sarah Judkins tied
his hands behind him with a handkerchief, and
thus exhibited her captive at the edge of the bluff
to Captain Sam, who fairly howled at the sight.
Tobias Judkins, having waited for a good oppor-
tunity, and assisted by Sam Murch, now loosened
a big piece of the projecting bluff, and, in an
instant, turf, stones and earth were sliding down
the steep bank in a great cloud of dust. The
attacking party saw it coming, and fled precipitately
down to the shore, dodging the flying rubbish as
they ran.
Oh, I say," cried Captain Sam, "this is no
way to fight! We have got to do it according to
the original, and in the original, as you ought to
know, the British were thrashed."
Well, if the British were thrashed, why don't
you come up and thrash us?" retorted Billy Heth-
erington, from the top of the bluff.
"Yes why don't you come up and drive them
out of their battery, just as Lovell's men did ?" cried
Alice Martin, brightly laughing, for she thought it
was a great joke that the American patriots should
be asking the British to run away from the threat-
ened battery without making any defense.


If I could get hold of the fellow that fired that
lump of blue clay at me, I'd make him run,"
retorted Captain Sam, valiantly.
But Ned Martin, not to be defeated in this way,
had made a circuit to the extreme right, though not
according to the original plan for which the captain
was such a stickler. Before anybody knew where
he was, and in the midst of the parley, he appeared
behind the party on the bluff, waving the standard,
which he had found in the bushes, and exclaiming,
" I've captured the battery "
There' was a rush of boys in his direction, and
the whole party fought their way to the edge of the
bluff. "The Lob," supported by Ralph Jackson,
who was a big boy, climbed up to aid their strug-
gling lieutenant.
They were all tangled together on the dangerous
edge of the bank, when the captain from below
yelled, Look out I The bank is caving! "
His warning was too late. In another second,
the edge of the bank gave way, and amid dust
and dirt, the shrieks of the girls and the cries of
the boy-besiegers below, the entire force of British
and Americans slid down to the rocky shore
beneath. There were bruised heads and shins, and
Pat Adams's nose was bleeding when he picked
himself up. Most serious disaster of all, however,
the pole of the standard was broken into two pieces,
at sight of which the girls came hurrying down,
with various exclamations.
It is too awful mean for anything," pouted
Phebe Noyes, who, having done much sewing on
the banner,, felt as if she were personally wounded
in its disaster.
It's all your fault, Billy cried Ned, fiercely.
"'Tis n't my fault, either," retorted Billy. "Do
you s'pose I was a-going to let you carry off that
flag?"
Why, that's the way the fight was fit in 1779,"
answered Captain Sam. "What are you thinking
about?"
Well," remarked Sarah Judkins, gravely, the
fight is over and the Americans have got the worst
of it."
That's so," gallantly assented Sam. It's not
according to the original, but the enemy being as-
sisted by the ladies, the patriot forces are beaten."


(To be continued.)


822


THE AIRPORT NINE.


[AUGUSTr







BEFORE AND AFTER FLOWERING.


-4,.


a ,-


BEFORE AND .AF1 ER FLO\V-
E R I N G


F',, r'Hiii iL 1 ii Ui. l.. v I i,- .i,,N

BEFORE.
First Violet.
Lo HERE! How warm and dark and still it is;
Sister, lean close to me that we may kiss.
Here we go rising, rising, but to where?

Second Violet.
Indeed, I cannot tell, nor do I care,
It is so warm and pleasant here. But hark!
What strangest sound was that above the dark?

First Violet.
As if our sisters all together sang-
Seemed it not so?

Second Violet.
More loud than that, it rang,
And louder still it rings, and seems more near;
Oh! I am shaken through and through with fear-
Now in some deadly grip I seem confined!
Farewell, my sister Rise and follow and find.

First Violet.
From how far off those last words seem to fall!
Gone where she will not answer when I call.
How lost ? How gone? Alas This sound above me,-
" Poor little violet left with none to love thee!"
And now it seems I break against that sound!
What bitter pain is this that binds me round,
This pain I press into Where have I come?


l88o.]


823


A -







BEFORE AND AFTER FLOWERING.


AFTER.
A Crocus.
Welcome, dear sisters, to our fairy home!
They call this Garden, and the time is spring.
Like you I have felt the pain of flowering,
But oh! the wonder and the deep delight
It was to stand here, in the broad sun-sight,
And feel the wind flow 'round me, cool and
kind;
To hear the singing of the leaves the wind
Goes hurrying through; to see the mighty
trees,
Where every day the blossoming buds increase.
At evening, when the shining sun goes in,
The gentler lights we see, and dews begin,
And all is silent under the quiet sky,
Save sometimes for the wind's low lullaby.

First Tree.
Poor little flowers!

.Second Tree.
What would you prate of now?

-First Tree.
They have not heard; I will keep still.

First Violet.
See how the trees bend to each other lovingly.

Crocus.
Daily they talk of fairer things to be.
Great talk they make about the coming Rose,
The very fairest flower, they say, that blows;
Such scent she hath; her leaves are red, they
say,
And fold her 'round in some divine, sweet way.

.First Violet.
Would she were come, that for ourselves we
might
Have pleasure in this wonder of delight!

*Crocus.
Here comes the laughing, dancing, hurrying
rain;
How all the trees laugh at the wind's light
strain!

First Violet.
We are so near the earth, the- wind goes by
And hurts us not; but if we stood up high,
Like trees, then should we soon be blown
away.

Second Violet.
Nay, were it so, we should be strong as they.


Crocus.
I often think how nice to be a tree;
Why, sometimes in their boughs the stars I see.

First Violet.
Have you seen that?

Crocus.
I have,'and so shall you.
But, hush I feel the coming of the dew.

NIGHT.
Second Violet.
How bright it is! The trees how still they
are !

Crocus.
I never saw before so bright a star,
As that which stands and shines just over us.

First Violet (after a pause).
My leaves feel strange and very tremulous.

Crocus and Second Violet together.
And mine. And mine.

First Violet.
Oh, warm,. kind sun, appear!

Crocus.
I would the stars were gone and day were
here!

JUST BEFORE DAWN.
First Violet.
Sisters! No answer, sisters? Why so still?

One Tree to another.
Poor little violet, calling through the chill
Of this new frost which did her sisters slay,
In which she must herself, too, pass away.
Nay, pretty violet, be not so dismayed:
Sleep, only, on your sisters sweet is laid.

First Violet.
No pleasant Wind about the garden goes;
Perchance the Wind has gone to bring the
Rose.
O sisters surely now your sleep is done.
I would we had not looked upon the sun.
My leaves are stiff with pain. Oh cruel
Night!
And through my root some sharp thing seems
to bite.
Ah me! What pain, what coming change is
this ? (She dies.)

First Tree.
So endeth many a violet's dream of bliss.


824


(AUGUST,






MARJORIE'S PERIL.


MARJORIE'S PERIL.
A True Story of tli Busl of Tamaskaki

BY MARY LOCKWOOD.


THIS happened a few years ago, before the name
of a certain Zulu king called Cetewayo-pro-
nounced T-Ketch-way-o-had become either feared
or famous. At that time, the newspapers, which
have made such a talk
about him since, had never
even heard of his existence,
and people still were far
more afraid of wild beasts
than of wild men in Queen
Victoria's South African
colonies.
In the latter part of
August, one of Her Majes-,
ty's brave Highland regi-
merits, fresh from England
by sea, landed at Durban,
the flourishing sea-port of
the Province of Natal, on
the south-east coast of the
African continent, and sev-
eral companies were im-
mediately ordered up coun-
try to a frontier post, a
little fort at Tamashaki,
upon the confines of the
Transvaal and Zululand.
The soldiers first went
by rail and coach to Pieter-
maritzburg, the pretty little
capital of Natal, fifty-five
miles from Durban, and so
far the journey was very
pleasant; but the rest of
the way, over bad roads,
in wagons or afoot, was so
rough and wearisome that
many of the men left their THE LIONS' DRINCING-PLA
wives and children at Pietermaritzburg; for it
was rumored that their stay would not be long
at Tamashaki, and, besides, it was a queer sort of
place for women and children. But Sergeant
McLeod would not leave his one motherless bairn
behind, for he never felt easy when Marjorie was
away from him. His men were not sorry to have
her come, either, the bonnie little Scottish lassie;
for she was a great pet with them all. because she
was so Scottish, and wholesome, and blithe, with
her dimples and auburn curls, and merry gray eyes,


and winsome ways. Then, too, she was a useful
little lass, though only eight years old, and could
darn the hose and sew buttons on, and sweep the
room, and boil the porridge, as well as many an
older person.
The fort at Tamashakihadbeen
intended in the beginning for a
Zulu village, and, perhaps, was
the uncanniest spot a little Scot-
tish girl ever
called "home."
It was just a
collection of
thatched mud-
huts built
around a large
court-yard used
for the parade-


CE. [SEE PAGE 828.]
ground, inclosed
by a circular
fence of high
bamboo canes,
stuck upright
into the ground very close to one another, and
bound together with withes. There was no gate,
but the circle was brought round so that the ends
of the fence overlapped at the entrance, in such
a way as to prevent passers-by from seeing into
the court. There was a sentinel stationed at the


VOL. VII.-54.


x88o.]


825






MARJORIE'S PERIL.


first entrance, who paced the ground where the
gate should have been, day and night, and Captain
Knobel meant to have a gate made just as soon as
he could procure the necessary material from the
nearest Dutch settlement in the Transvaal.
For several days, Marjorie was too busy, helping
her father and the others to make their funny little
huts look a bit home-like, with the few traps they
had brought with them, to think much about the
country that lay outside their bamboo fence; in
fact, she had never done more than peer around
the corner of the last bamboo post, across the sandy
stretch on which the fort was built, and catch a
glimpse of the green trees of the bush. A South
African bush is a sort of forest jungle, abounding
in luxuriant vegetation, and apt to be the lurking-
place of savage beasts, whose growls and roars
could be heard at night sometimes by the sentinel
at the fort, though the terrible creatures never
ventured into the open country; or so rarely, that
no one at the station thought of being afraid of a
savage visitor in the night-time.
Four or five days after the arrival of the new
troops at Tamashaki, Sergeant McLeod was ordered
off with his men on an expedition to buy food, and
lumber for the necessary repairs. This would take
him one whole day, so he left his Maidie, as he
called her, in the charge of Private Brown's wife.
She was very kind to the child, and kept her
close by her all the morning. But after dinner
Mrs. Brown was summoned to see a sick woman,
and Maidie, left to her own devices, got tired of
darning her father's socks, and thought she would
go look for Victoria Albertina, the solemn white
cat/one of the soldiers had given her at Durban.
So she strayed into the parade-ground, before the
hut, but the Queen's namesake had gone on a scout
after some African mouse, and was nowhere to be
seen. The inclosure was very quiet; the hot
afternoon sun had driven every one under shelter,
except the man on guard, who, in his white have-
lock, was cuddling the shade, and just creeping
along up and down the narrow passage between
the fences. But Marjorie did not mind the sun;
children seldom do.
"Robbie Bell looks half-asleep," she remarked
to herself; "I've a mind to pinch him awake and
make him tell me the rest of the lion and tiger
story Mr. Ramsay would na let him finish last
nicht." For the night before, when "bonnie
Maidie," as the men called her, had been sitting on
her father's knee in the midst of a group of soldiers
on the parade-ground, listening to Private Robbie's
marvelous tales of "rivers running' wi' gowd, and
diamonds to be had for the pickin' up" in this
country to which they had come, "to say nothing'
o' parrots an' mon-monkeys that could talk," young


Lieutenant Ramsay, sauntering by with his cigar,
had silenced the man when he began telling about
the beasts of the bush, as "na fit talk for the
bairnie's ears."
But before Marjorie reached Robbie's retreat-
ing form, a new and brilliant idea occurred to her:
Why should not she go out for a walk? She had
not taken one since her father went with her to
hear the band play in the public garden at Pieter-
maritzburg; and, strange to say, Sergeant McLeod
had never thought to forbid her venturing beyond
the post alone, the possibility of her doing it
probably never having occurred to him.
I '11 jist gang fetch my hat," she quickly de-
cided, "and try to find a pretty brook, and some
floors for my daddy, to gie him the nicht. An'
wha knaws, I'llna doubt find gowd an' di'mon's,
like Robbie talked about. He said there 's lots
and heaps in the brooks, an' I '11 buy a giftie for the
men, every ane. the time we gang back to the
toon."*
Then, full of her fine plans, she skipped into
McLeod's hut, and reached her brown hat down
from its peg, and tied it over her tawny curls, when
it suddenly occurred to her that her daddy might be
home before her, so, like the thoughtful little house-
wife that she was, she spread the table and set out
the tankard of beer and bowl of parritch," in
readiness for him, with great care, then danced
out past the sleepy Robbie-who happened to be at
the far end of his beat.
He was drowsily conscious, as he turned in his.
slow and steady tramp, of a clear, small voice,
piping the pathetic air of Land o' the Leal,"
away off somewhere. But how remorsefully he
remembered afterward that he did not take the
trouble to do more than blink around to see where
the song came from.
It sounds for a' the warld like bonnie Maidie
Where can she ha' hid herself? he wondered;
but thinking was too much exertion that hot after-
noon, so he gave it up.
The shrill, sweet young voice died away, and
silence fell on the little post. After a while the.
guard was changed, and Rob went off to his
supper and forgot all about Marjorie, who, mean-
time, had made her way as fast as her little feet
could carry her across the stretch of scorching
sand that lay between the fort and the inviting
shade of the bush. The afternoon sun still rode
high in the cloudless heavens, and not a sound
was heard but the whirring of insects in the sand,
as Maidie sprang with a cry of delight into an
opening in the thicket of acacia, or white thorn
trees, which bordered the arid plain. She already
spied some lovely little flowers growing close to the
ground not far off. They were gloxinias, pale blue,


* Gang, go-n-ichk, night-knaws, knows-gowd, gold-toon, town.


826


AUGUST,







MARJORIE'S PERIL.


pink and white, and she soon gathered her apron
full of them.
What a beautiful posy I'll mak' my daddy "
she thought, delightedly. But, as she penetrated
deeper into the Bush, she forgot the pale gloxinias
in her excitement over the treasures that opened to
her view, and dropped half of them as she made
her way along, marking her path through the
wood by flowers, as Hop-o'-my-Thumb did by peb-
bles in the nursery tale. Presently she came to a
gorge with fantastic rocks on either side, rising like
towers and castles and church-spires. There was
the bed of a river in this gorge, but the river was
not flowing; all the water seemed to have run off
somewhere else; though the bed was moist and all
overgrown with lovely creepers and grasses and
the wax-like ice-plant. All along the banks were
great reeds as tall as giants, of all sorts of lovely
colors. Bright scarlet flowers grew on some of the
rocks, and blue and yellow and crimson flowers
bloomed on the trees. Maidie had never in her
life seen such lovely woods.
They must be fairy-tale woods," she thought,
and she was quite bewildered to know what to
gather first of the pretty things about her. She
took off her hat and made a basket of it for carry-
ing delicate lilies and ferns; she tied some green
moss up in her little handkerchief "to mak' a
garden wi' outside our door"; and she wound long
tendrils of clematis and asparagus-vine around her
waist, and stuck geraniums and fragrant jessamine
and the yellow mimosa-blossom in this clustering
girdle, until she looked like a walking posy herself;
and ever and anon some fresh beauty or wonder
tempted her farther and farther into the bewitch-
ing, dangerous woods, until she forgot the gold
and diamonds she had come to seek, and forgot the
mysterious hints about the savage dwellers in these
wilds, that seemed to the fearless child as safe and
beautiful a play-ground as her grandfather's garden
at home. She felt so happy in the woods, it
seemed to her as if she could do anything, as she
sprang from stone to stone or pressed her rosy
cheek against the soft, thick moss, or buried her
eager little nose in the white corolla of a lily.
On and on she strayed, playing she was a fairy
and singing, loudly: "Up the airy mountain, down
the rushy glen," until she fairly set a monkey, far
above her in an ebony-tree, chattering back; but
she was too busy to hear him. Presently, she
came to a rock, some few hundred paces from the
river, projecting over a pool of clear, but very
dark-looking water. On the rock grew some beau-
tiful air-plants with scarlet flowers, the inside of
their gay cups lined with lemon-color. In the soft
sand, near this pool, were many great foot-prints,
-the lions had been there to drink at night.


Maidie, in reaching over to get one of the brill-
iant flowers, dropped her hat in the pool, and, do
what she might, could not reach it again. She
could have cried to see her pretty brown basket,
piled full of lilies and ferns, floating off from her;
for she suddenly became conscious that it was
-growing darker in the woods, and that she ought
to be finding her way home, as Daddy would be
scared about her. So she grasped the remainder
of her treasures more.firmly, and turned her reso-
lute little face homeward, or in what she thought to
be the homeward direction. Somehow, it was a
great deal harder picking her way over the stones
as she went back; there were so many slippery
places and so many vines and thorny bushes in the
way, and Marjorie wondered why the woods seemed
so much darker almost immediately. She did not
know how long she had been out, nor that the early
night was falling very fast, nor, worse still, that she
was going in quite the wrong direction; coming to
no opening in the hopeless maze of trees, no land-
mark that she had noticed before; it seemed to
her she had come but a little, little way from the
edge of the bush.
At last it grew so dark, and the way seemed so
strange, that she just sat down to think. How
tired she was; how glad she would be to get home
again At last she determined to go straight back
to the pool and wait there for her daddy. She was
so sure in her perfect faith that he would, of
course, come for her, and he would see her more
easily in that open place. She was not afraid. Her
father had told her that God's good angels watch
over children who try to do right, and she had
never meant to be naughty. So she bravely turned,
and painfully picked her way along until, presently,
she came right to the edge of a sheet of black
water: it seemed to her the same she had left, but
it was, in reality, quite a different pool. There was
the rock close to her; she would climb up and sit
on the ledge, it was all so wet where she was stand-
ing. After trying to step over the stones, unsuc-
cessfully, she finally pulled off her shoes and waded
in the pool to the rock, but found the sides were so
high and slippery that she could not climb them,
neither could she see to get back; all that was left
for her to do.was to plant her little shoeless feet in
the water and brace herself firmly against the
steep, rough rock and wait patiently for Daddy.
The shoes were gone,--dropped in trying to climb
the rock,-the pinafore was torn and soiled, and
the gay vines and flowers draggled and drooped.
"It 's verra dark; I '11 say my prayers, any
how, whiles I 'm waiting, said Maidie. I '11 be
too sleepy when I get hame; only I canna kneel
doon verra weel, but God will na mind that." So
the dear little lass clasped her hands, and said


827


1880.J







MARJORIE'S PERIL.


"Our Father" and "Now I lay me," and did not
know, herself, how pathetic it was, as she stood bolt
upright in the dark water that covered the small
feet and ankles. While she prayed, the moon came
out overhead, and its faint light struggled through
the trees and touched the rock and the child's
bright hair; and, after a while, something beside
the moonlight visited the pool,-something that
came with heavy tread over the sand,-and stooped
and drank of the water, and slunk back again into
its lair of darkness. Another and another of these
visitors came, as the night hours went on, and
drank, and glowered at the little child, with red,
fierce eyes, and even rubbed their noses against
her face and hands; then shook their yellow manes
as they went muttering and growling away. Not one
of them so much as touched a hair of her innocent
head. Who was it," said Lieutenant Ramsay,
afterward, shut the mouths of the great hungry
creatures, but He who gives His angels charge over
His little ones to keep them in all their ways ?"
A couple of hours after Marjorie's departure, the
scouting party came into the fort and was piped off
to supper. Of course, Sergeant McLeod expected
to find his little lass waiting for him at his own
door, and was rather disappointed not to see her
there. She's fixed my parritch, bless her heart,"
he remarked, seating himself to the enjoyment of
his meal, for which he had a pretty good appetite,
thanks to his long tramp; "she'll be back anon."
But Maidie did not appear, even after he had
drained his beer tankard and lighted his pipe, so,
with a slight feeling of uneasiness in spite of him-
self, he put his pipe in his mouth, and stepped,
rather briskly, over to Mrs. Brown's.
"Maidie not home ?" repeated that good soul,
aghast, why, I left her here, it's a couple of hours
or so, to go see Freeman's sick wife. She was
darnin' your sock like a lamb, and was fixin' to get
your supper ready in time. She's off visiting' the
neebors, likely."
Further inquiry was made, but no one had seen
the child for hours. Then it occurred to the Ser-
geant, with a pang of terror, that she might have
strayed outside the gateless inclosure, and he
hunted up the man who had been on guard that
afternoon, to question him. Poor, slow-witted
Robbie could at first recall nothing, but, after
cudgeling his brains awhile, he recalled the song
which had come to him as in a dream, and ex-
claimed, contritely, that he must have let the
bonnie bairn run out under his nose, the blockhead
that he was.
Beside himself with anxiety, the father peered
about until he detected in the fine sand of the court
two or three tiny foot-prints that pointed outward.
Stepping outside he saw some others, faint and


light, to be sure, but undoubtedly his Maidie's;
such tracks could have been made by no one else
in the garrison.
Restraining his wild impulse to follow the dear
child's footsteps immediately, McLeod turned back
hastily to beat up recruits to go with him. If she
had strayed down to the bush, he might need
assistance to find her, and he trembled as he
thought of the hidden horrors of that fair and
deceitful wilderness.
A number of the men volunteered willingly
enough, when the news of the loss of the Sergeant's
Maidie spread through the post, for the child's
pretty, bright, obliging ways had made her such a
darling that nearly all the rough, simple fellows
would have done anything for her.
They tracked her easily down to the bush, but
among the stones and mosses and tangled ways
the traces soon became confused and undecided,
and at length were hopelessly lost. True, they
tracked her for a distance by means of some of the
flowers she had dropped, which McLeod picked up
and kissed and put in the breast of his jacket, so
sure he felt that she had gathered them. Long
hours they searched and shouted, and climbed
trees and cut down bushes and vines, going every-
where but in the right direction. As the night

darkened among those gloomy shades, they shud-
dered to hear the growls and roars of the beasts of
prey coming forth from their dens and lairs to seek
what they might devour. Some of the men grew
discouraged and wearied out, and returned to the
fort. It did not seem possible that the poor bairnie
could ever be found, alive or dead, but the father
would not give up the search for a moment; he
would have stayed there in the bush if every man
had left him. At midnight, Lieutenant Ramsay
came out with some fresh men to aid in the search,
and joined the others just as they struck the river-
bed where Marjorie had gone wild with delight
over the beautiful and brilliant flowers a few hours
before. They followed it painfully by the light of
their torches and of the watery moonshine, until
they gained the pool near the gorge, dark and dis-
mal enough as the shadows lay upon it, shallow as
it was.
"One of the lions' drinking-places," said Mr.
Ramsay, and stopped to pick up something that
floated to his feet. They all knew it-Maidie's
little brown hat, with one or two soaked lilies and
ferns fastened to it yet.
Robbie Bell fell on his knees and sobbed like a
child. Lord keep the puir bairnie frae the jaws
o' the lion!" he cried, and more than one man
added an Amen.
The poor father groaned, "Gie Thy angels
charge o'er her," then, presently, in a cheerier voice,


828


[AUGUST,








iSSo.] MARJORIE S PERIL. 829


he said: "She's a brave lassie, an' a fearless;
she 'd win her way better 'n maist. We 'll fin' her
so lang as the wild beasts dinna."
It seemed a forlorn hope, but on they trudged,
compelled at times to stop and rest, strong men as
they were, and at last their lurid torches flickered
and grew faint in the gray dawn, when the damp
mists rose up from the moist ground, and the growl-
ings of the lions who had been kept off by the
torch-glare grew fainter and less frequent, and at
length died away altogether.
McLeod was ahead of the others, with the young
lieutenant; they had flung away their torches, and
pushing through a thicket came suddenly upon the
sandy shore of another lion-pool, the sand all
trodden down and covered with fresh marks of lion-
paws. A black rock loomed up out of the water
just opposite them, and hardly had they emerged
from the thicket when McLeod gave a gasping cry,
and dashed through the water.
Malcolm Ramsay could not make out the reason
of this movement at first, but in another instant he
caught sight of a little shoe floating slowly on the
pool, and next he saw a wee form standing in the
water braced against the rock, bareheaded, her
bright curls falling all about the tired little face,
blue and ghastly in the weird light, the eyes round
and wide and strained, with a pitiful, watching look
in them, the two small hands tightly clasped to-
gether and dropped before her.
But instantly a look of joy came into the sweet
eyes, an angel smile made the little face radiant-
she had seen her father-he gained her side, and,
with a cry of inexpressible joy, clasped his baby, his
treasure, in his arms.
One by one all came up through the thicket, as
though an electric message had brought them.
McLeod strode through the water bearing her in
his strong arms, crying himself like a baby, while
she raised a trembling little hand and stroked his
brown face and kissed his rough cheek. The men
all gathered about dear Maidie, kissing her hands
and dress, and even her little, stained foot. Some


of them pointed to the countless lion-tracks all
about; some fell on their knees and hid their faces.
It seemed difficult to believe that this was really
their Maidie, and that she was alive, for, by all
tokens, she must have been the very center of a
host of lions, throughout the dreadful night.
Maidie, darling," said Lieutenant Ramsay, in
a choked voice, were not you afraid?"
Na," said the innocent lassie, turning her eyes
on him, "not a bit afeard. I knew Daddy wad
luik for me, and God wad tak' care o' me till he
cam'; but I was weary waiting and a bit lanesome,
too, till some dogs cam' to drink the water, and
they seemed company, like."
." Dogs ?" echoed the young man.
"Aye. Big, yellow dogs; I never seed sic grand
big anes. They rubbed their noses on my face and
glowered at me; but I didna min' them, not a
bit."
Oh, the child! How the men looked at each
other To think of her safe among the lions all
night,-the fearsome beasts seeking their prey,
and not a hair of her head harmed !
Then the tired head sank on her father's shoul-
der, and safe in his tender hold, the watching and
waiting, the irksomeness and pain all past, the
child's eyes closed and she dropped dead asleep,-
the sleep of utter exhaustion,-which asserted itself,
now that the brave spirit had no need to bear up
the frail little body any longer.
And so he carried her home. They all wanted
to carry her, but the father would give her up to
no one else; not even to Mr. Ramsay. Good news
flies fast. When Marjorie and her body-guard
arrived at the fort, her rescue was already known,
somehow, and all hands had turned out in the
early morning sunshine to rejoice over her, and
the Highland pipes played their sweetest and
cheeriest to welcome the dear lamb who had been
lost and was found, and who did not know until
they all marched away forever from Tamashaki,
three months later, how great had been her peril,
and how wonderful her deliverance.


MARJORIE'S PERIL.


829


x88o.]








TED AND KATE.
BY JOEL STACY.

ONCE there was a lit-tie boy named Ted, who had a sis-ter named
Kate. He was a good boy and she was a good girl if you would do
just as they asked; but if you would not do as they asked they were
very bad in-deed, One time Kate asked for a star out of the sky, and
be-cause they could not give it to her she cried and screamed for an
hour. Now, if they had giv-en it to her she would have been quiet
e-nough. Do you like that kind of a good girl?
One day Ted wished to play with his Pa-pa's ra-zor. When his Pa-pa
said "No," Ted screamed and kicked; and when they told him not to
do so, he said: "I will be good if I can have the ra-zor." But who likes
that kind of a good boy? I don't. One day, Ted was so nice and
qui-et that his Mam-ma kissed him, and then she found that he had a
big lump of sug-ar in his mouth. As soon as it was gone, he cried for
more. Then they put in an-oth-er lump, and he was "just as good as pie,"
nurse said. But they could not al-ways keep Ted's mouth full of sug-ar;
and it was so hard to do all that was need-ed to make him good, that
one .day his Pa-pa and Mam-ma made up a great se-cret.
What do you think this se-cret was?
Why, it was this. They said to each oth-er: "Let us try to cure Ted
and Kate of their way of be-ing good. It is time they had a new way."
The lit-tle boy and girl were out-of-doors just then. Ted was be-hind
the house, look-ing for the cat, and Kate was play-ing in a boat on the
riv-er that ran in front of the house. The boat was tied to the shore,
and the nurse watched Kate to see that she did not fall in-to the wa-ter.
Kate had want-ed Ted to come ,and play with her in the boat; and
Ted had begged Kate to come and play with him be-hind the house,
but nei-ther would give up to the oth-er's wish-es.
"My, my! What ob-strep-er-ous chil-dren!" said nurse. Al-ways
want-ing their own ways "
"Would you be-lieve it, ma'am," she said to Mam-ma, "they wont
ei-ther play to-geth-er or come in to their sup-pers. But they 're qui-et
as can be if they 're let to have their ways; so where 's the harm?"
"A great deal of harm," thought Mam-ma, "in that way of be-ing
good." So she called out:
;- Come in to your sup-per, Ted and Kate. It is near-ly bed-time."
Then they both said "No! No!" and be-gan to cry.


830


[AUGUST,


FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


Don't cry, pets," coaxed nurse. "How long do you want to stay out?"
Oh, we don't want to go in at all," an-swered Ted. Let us stay
here al-ways, and we will be good."
Oh, yes. But I don't want to get out of the boat," said Kate.


TED WILL NOT GO IN TO HIS SUPPER.
Ver-y well," said Mam-ma. Now we shall do as you say."
So Pa-pa told Ted he could stay in the grass, be-hind the house,
and told Kate she could stay in the boat. And they both said: "Oh,
yes! now we will be good."
For a while Ted and Kate thought it was fine fun to stay out. Ted
found in the grass a tur-tle that pleased him ver-y much; and Kate sat
in the boat and sang her dol-ly to sleep while the sun went down.
It be-gan to grow dark-er, but Ted and Kate knew they must o-bey
their Pa-pa. They could not e-ven see each oth-er. The sun was gone;
the day was gone; and now the night was com-ing.


_ ~J I


83I


r88o.]





832 FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK. [AUGUST,

"I wish I could go in and get my sup-per," thought Kate, and Ted
pushed a-way the tur-tle and looked a-bout him. Then they both be-
gan to cry.
Pa-pa put his head out of the win-dow and told them to keep qui-et,


=L I


"'SHUT YOUR EYES, YOU NAUGHTY MOON!' SCREAMED KATE."


as he and Mam-ma wished to go to sleep. But they screamed and cried
loud-er than be-fore. It grew dark-er and dark-er, and they cried loud-
er and loud-er. The moon came out and sailed a-mong the clouds; but
she seemed like a great round eye look-ing down at them from the sky.
Shut your eyes, you naught-y moon !" screamed Kate; but the moon
just stared at her.
Pa-pa! called Ted. Mam-ma cried Kate. There was no an-swer.
Pa-pa, I will be good if you will let me go to bed! shout-ed Ted.
"So will I!" screamed Kate.: Still there was no an-swer.
Then Ted be-gan to think. He knew his Pa-pa and Mam-ma had
told him that real-ly good boys would be just as good if they did not


L -- --- -r ~C -






x880.] FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK. 833.

have what they want-ed as if they had all they asked for. And he
said to him-self, "It 's bet-ter to try to be good that way, if I can." So
he stood up straight in the grass, and rubbed his eyes dry. Then he tried
to look pleas-ant. The moon stared at him ver-y hard, but there were
no more tears on his face.
At last he called out to his Pa-pa a-gain. But this time he said:
"Pa-pa! Pa-pa! I '11 be good in the right way,-wheth-er you let me:
in or not!"
O-pen flew the blinds, and Pa-pa and Mam-ma both looked out.
Mam-ma asked: Will you try to be that kind of a good boy all the:
time ?"
Oh, yes!" said Ted-dy.
"Ver-y well," and the blinds were shut once more. Pa-pa and
Mam-ma were gone. At first, Ted was go-ing to cry a-gain. Then he-
thought, Oh, no; I must try right off to be good. I said I would."
So he kept just as still as a mouse, and watched the win-dow.
Now, Kate had heard all that had hap-pened. And she thought: "I'll
be just as good as Ted, al-ways." Ver-y soon her eyes were dry, and
she was hug-ging the dol-ly ver-y tight and tell-ing her that they were
all go-ing to be good the new way, and Dol-ly must try, too.
Now the lamps were light-ed again in the house. Up went the
win-dows !
"Come in, chil-dren!" called out Pa-pa and Mam-ma.
Then a ver-y strange thing hap-pened. Nurse stood right be-fore
them !-she had been watch-ing Kate all the time from be-hind a bush.
She gave her right hand to Ted and her left hand to Kate, and they all
three went to the door, and knocked.
Who 's there ?" called out Pa-pa's voice, from in-side.
"Two good lit-tle chil-dren," said the nurse.
Which kind of good? asked the voice.
Oh, the new kind of good!" shout-ed both the chil-dren.
O-pen went the door! and there stood Pa-pa and Mam-ma. Such a.
kiss-ing time as there was!
Ted and Kate each had some sup-per; then, when they were un-dressed,
they knelt down side by side in their long, white night-gowns, and then
they kissed Pa-pa and Mam-ma a-gain, and jumped in-to their lit-tle
white beds.
In a few mo-ments they were sound a-sleep, arid the moon stared at
them near-ly all night, through the win-dow.






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


_ ACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


STILL hard at it, eh, my young vacationists?
Hard at play, I mean.
Phew The sun is so hot to-day, and you, my
hearers, are so scattered over this great summer-
resort land, that we '1l dispense with introductory
remarks on this august occasion, and proceed at
once to consider
SALAMANDERS.
A LIZARD whisked past me a while ago, and lay
basking for hours in the summer sunshine that
beat upon a bank not far from my pulpit.
It reminded me of salamanders, which are rather
like big lizards, I believe. I've heard a good deal
about them.
Perhaps those of you who are made uncomfort-
able by hot weather are inclined to envy the
lizard's ability to enjoy the heat of the sun. But
-that's nothing Why, if you had the power which
the ancient Greeks supposed the salamander to
possess, you could sit in a blazing fire with comfort!
There 's no telling now where the idea started,
but it spread and grew until it was said that the
fiercest fire could be put out by throwing a sala-
mander into it! And pictures painted in the old
days represent the patient creature taking things
quite coolly, with live coals piled on its back.
The facts seem to have become twisted in some
way, for a person who knows all about them sends
word that salamanders are not fire-proof but ice-
proof, and that they have been found alive in solid
blocks of ice which had formed around them in
the ditches. There they seemed to be very much
at their ease, and, when the ice melted, they woke
up, and walked away without a shiver.

TO HOT-HOUSE PLANTS AND OTHERS.
DEAR JACK: Tell the hot-house plants that a traveler in Siberia
found a ravine, filled with snow and ice, where large poplars were
growing, with only their tops above the icy mass. The branches were
in full leaf, although the trunks were imbedded in snow and ice to


the depth of twenty-five feet. There was a space around the stem
nine inches wide, and this was filled with water.
And then tell the cool-breathed crocus, and the frost-loving chrysan-
themum, that the plants about the hot springs of Venezuela seem to
rejoice in a heat which will boil eggs in less than four minutes. In
the same place, the mimosa and fig trees spread their branches far over
the hot water, and even push their roots into it. W. S.

AN ELECTRIC MAIL-CARRIER.
You all remember the story of the kind old lady
who was in a great hurry to send her soldier son a
pair of new boots, and could not be persuaded that
it was impossible to send them along the telegraph
wire. And surely some one has told you of the
little boarding-school boy, who wrote a letter to
his father asking for more pocket-money, and
expected to have the letter carried by electricity
and to get the money at once in the same way ?
If you ever heard those stories, of course you
smiled at the old lady and at the little boy. But it
will not do to smile at such persons any longer. For,
actually, letter messages, little packets, and even
messengers themselves, can now be carried by
electricity!
The letters are packed into small boxes on
wheels, and these run on tracks inside a tube,
which is laid under-ground from place to place. A
train of the boxes is made up, an electrical loco-
motive is attached and started, and away go the
cars with the messages to the other end of the
tube. For carrying men and women the engines
and cars are larger, of course, and at present the
tracks are laid only on the ground, but, by and by,
these also may come to be sunk in big tubes
beneath the surface of land and water.

UNDER-GROUND THINGS.
WHAT contrary things are found deep under-
ground! Cold water, hot water, oil, old cities,
traces of- animals that lived thousands of years
ago, and, not very far down, a heat so great that
men scarcely can bear it .And I 'm told that, if
they were to dig far enough, men would come to
a part of the globe which is actually molten hot,
and boils and bubbles under the rocky crust.
It would be odd, now, if these volcanoes that the
dear Little School-ma'am talks about were caused
by this boiling stuff, bursting out here and there
through the earth's surface !

AN EGYPTIAN "RIP VAN WINKLE."
RIP VAN WINKLE, as almost everybody knows,
was a man who is said to have drunk goblin wine
when out on the
hills one night;
and the wine put
him to sleep for
twenty years, so
S %...- that, when he
__ --1\ awoke a gray old
man and went tot-
tering about his former haunts, and among his
once familiar friends, only his dog knew him again.
But the Rip van Winkle" your Jack now has
to tell you of, was a snail. Here is his portrait.
He was picked up in Egypt, and, being a good
specimen of his kind, was preserved and sent to


834


[AUGUST,







aB8o.] JACK-IN- THE-PULPIT. 835


the British Museum in London. On his arrival,
March 25, 1846, he was gummed upon a paper-
covered tablet bearing his name, and left to him-
self. On March 7, 185,. a person observed that
the paper near the snail was discolored, just as if
the drowsy little fellow had come out of his shell
and tried to escape with it, but, finding this im-
possible, had gone in again to have another doze.
Soon after, the snail was put into tepid water, to
try if he were still alive; this woke him up com-
pletely. But those were long naps-for a snail !
FIVE PET FIELD-MICE.
THE little field-mouse in the picture is one of a
family of six tiny little fellows that were found


DECORATIVE CRABS.
MY DEAR MR. JACK: I have been having a splendid time by the
sea-side, and I must tell you how, among other things to amuse me,
I have been learning from some crabs what is the prevailing fashion
of decorative art among their kindred under water. At first, I found
the crabs a little unpleasant to handle-they have so many squirmy
legs, and their nippers hurt if you let them pinch you; but after a
while I became used to them.
We took a crab and gently scoured the back of his shell until it
was smooth and clean, and then we put him into a tank where sea-
weeds of beautiful forms and colors were growing. As soon as the
crab had taken a good look around, he picked off little bits from the
sea-weeds, and, reaching up, stuck them by their ends upon his bald
back! Then, of course, when lying still, he looked like a weed-
covered rock; and, when he was crawling about, it was as if the
weeds were swaying in a current of water.
But this was not all, for the sea-weeds actually began to grow
where the crab had stuck them; and I suppose that, when they have
become too long and heavy for comfort, he will reach up with his
nippers and trim them down,-thus acting as his own barber.


I .


THt PET FIELD-MOUSE.


cozily snuggled in a deserted bird's-nest, while yet
they were too young for their eyes to be open.
One of them unluckily fell to the ground, and was
killed by a dog; but the five others were carried
into a house, and reared upon cow's milk.
The man who acted as their nurse used to take
them about with him in his coat-pocket, to show
to his friends. One day, he was at a base-ball
match, and, forgetting that he had his little nurse-
lings with him, he hung his coat in a tree. When
he went to look, he found that the mice had
climbed out and run away-sensible little fellows !
[The Little School-ma'am asks me to remind you
of two articles on field-mice which were printed
in ST. NICHOLAS for June and July, 1877.] .


A learned gentleman with us explained that the sensible fellow
thinks less of the decorative effect of the beautiful weeds, than of
the safe concealment they afford against his great enemy, the shark.-
Yours truly, ALICE M. B.
ONE CROWDED DAY.
A SOLDIER named Sutliffe landed one morning
in Chili, just in time to witness the revolution
which put down the Dictator, Don Bernardo
O'Higgins.
In the evening of the same day, the soldier
attended a grand ball given in their own honor by
the successful revolutionists; and, before morning,
he was rolled out of bed, his lodging-house was
shaken to pieces, and he himself was obliged to
flee for his life, chased by a tearing earthquake !


I


835


1880.]


JACK-IN- THE-PULPIT.


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836


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I wish to ask you a question in history.
Has that chest been opened which Michael Angelo, the great sculp-
tor, directed not to be opened till 400 years after his death? If so,
what did it contain? "BOB."
The Little School-ma'am answers that she never heard of this box
of which Bob speaks. "After the death of Michael Angelo," she
says, "a sealed box was found in his studio, and opened in the pres-
ence of witnesses. It contained 8,ooo scudi (about $8,ooo),-nothing
more of importance. Then one of the Counts Buonarotti bequeathed
the family archives to the city of Florence, not to be opened at all.
h1.1


Esther was quite unharmed, and seemed to feel as though nothing
particular had occurred. With the medal sent to her came also an
account of how she had earned it, written out very beautifully on
parchment.-Yours-tfIly, .... M. B. TR

THE CHILDREN OF THE POST OAK STREET SCHOOL ask: .'".-
there any leafless plants ? If so, what are they like ? Are there any
leafless South-American creepers ?" Who can answer?


ut upon the 4ootn anniversary or me mrm oir e scuLptor, t u" DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: A little friend of mine here in Califoyhia
archives were opened. Mr. Heath Wilson had access to them, and brought me to-day two leaves of a violet-plant, which I -mefi-?d
with their aid wrote a new life of Michael Angelo. If such a box as and I'm sure you would never guess their size. They cr.: yj
Bob speaks of exists (and I have never read of it), the time has not alike; three and a half inches across, and three and a half inches from
yet come for its opening. Michael Angelo left no written will." the tip to where the leaf joins the stem. The little finder told me that
the blossom is large in proportion to the leaf. -
I thought such a large violet-leaf as hiFwas worth telling about.
C. M. D.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am very fond of the Little Schoolma'am
Jack-in-the-Pulpit mentions, and also of the children. Please ask
him to give them my love, when they come through his field again, and DEAR ST. NICHO : I bought a very nice microscope with my
tell them they not only can make daisy grandmas out of the daisies, Christmas mo and I thought I would tell the readers of ST.
as shown in the June number (page 629), but daisy-donkeys also. NICHOLA out a few things I saw with it. First we got some
Pull off all the white leaves excepting two long ones at the top, some d set it aside before we looked at it. Then, when we looked
distance apart, and make the eyes and other features as :,. 1. i1..- at it, we saw several kinds of animals; some were very small round
donkey's as possible.-Your ever attentive reader, nes, and some a little larger but of
NANCY M. STERETT. them from the very small ones aled them the ttle-ones."
Then there were some lar pounds, which, from their shape, we
Called "potato-bugs"; .a d they spent all their time in eating the
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have a hen who wanted very much to little ones. Then therwere some we called "leeches from their
set, and we have little bits of kittens, too. And the big hen went and shape; some we cale snails, which moved about by drawing up in a
sat on the kittens one day, for she wished for something to take care sort of a ball an ,then throwing themselves out again; others we
of, and had no little chicks of her own; and she went on sitting on called "tied-tals," because they were tied by their tails; others,
them until the kitties got to be big enough to walk. One day I went out aga, we called "scissors-tails,' from two nippers on the end of their
to see her, and I tried to take her off, but she pecked at me; and then tails. Al them fight, exceptingthe "leeches," but the "potato-
our George, who takes care of the cows, went to take her away, but bugs rally get the best of the fights. I should like to know,
she pecked at him, too. But by and by we got her off. When she th h the LetterBox," the names of the animals I have been
was sitting on the kittens, the old cat used to go and sit beside her. t ng to describe.-Your constant reader, ROBERT WILSON, JR.
Now the kittens have grown to be quite big, and the hen only sits
them at night when she takes them under her wing. -
KATIE SAVAGE (6~2 years).
M. F. R., also, sends an account of this motherly old hen. WE already have told you a little about Gustave Dore, the great


ST. NICHOLAS is indebted to the publishers of Harris's Book of
Itsects for the use of the picture at the top of page 766 of the present
number.

MY DARLING ST. NICHOLAS: I live in Alaska, but have come to
New York on a visit, and I like it very much. I will now tell you
about my home. I live in a low, brick house with a large chimney,
where, in winter, we are afraid that wolves will climb down, for I
must tell you that the chimneys have little steps, where anybody could
walk down. One night Mamma and Papa had gone to a ball, five
miles away. Of the two servants, old Miggie and Katie, Miggie had
gone away, and Katie had gone with Mamma. I was sitting alone
with my little brother Willie, when we heard an awful noise. Willie
began to cry and tremble. I knew what it must be, and we waited
in breathless silence until I could bear it no longer, and screamed.
At last, I saw a wolf's paw slowly descending the chimney. Then I
took Willie and rushed into the next room, where we remained until
the family returned; then Papa made an end of the wolf.-Your true
reader, E. P., and U. M., my cousin.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Your little maids may be glad to hear how
an English girl, eight years old, earned the medal of the Royal
Humane Society, which is given for heroism in saving life.
It was in Devonshire, England, last November, and the little girl's
name was Esther Mary Comish-Bowden. She was returning from
Sunday-school with her governess and a younger sister. The gov-
erness became giddy and fell into a pond, where the water was six
feet deep. Esther at once sent her little sister to the nearest house
for help, while she herself tried to grasp the drowning lady's dress.
She caught it, but reached too far, fell into the water, and sank. She
still kept hold of the dress, however, and, when she rose to the top of
the water, she managed to clutch some overhanging branches. For
some time she remained in this position, calling for help, and trying
to keep the governess's head above water. At last, a man passing
near heard her cries and came to the rescue. Thelady soon recovered.


French artist, who made the picture from which our frontispiece for
this month is taken. He has drawn hosts of fine pictures and of a
great many kinds. His illustrations of the Bible, and of Milton's
"Paradise Lost," Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner," The Legend of
the Wandering Jew, Dante's poems and other works, have made him
famous in all countries. In many of these illustrations, however, he
has represented such startling and terrible scenes that they would
frighten some of our young ST. NICHOLAS folk.
But Dor6 does n't care to draw grand or terrible pictures only. He
likes to work for the children sometimes, and he has succeeded so
admirably that boys and girls who have never seen his weird illus-
trations admire him just as much as their elders do. His drawings for
La Fontaine's Fables, and for the Nursery Stories, areas well known
as any of his works.
You will not need to be told about the picture which is shown you
for our frontispiece. You all know why Hop-o'-my-Thumb is the
last one in the odd procession, and why he lags behind, and what his
outstretched hand means. And you know why the fatherand mother
are not looking back, but are resolutely trudging on. Dor6 very
wisely did not turn their faces toward us, for he knew the story, and
he is as skillful in drawing an ugly, horrible face as a beautiful, fresh
one, and you can imagine what he would have done with such a
father and mother as Hop-o'-my-Thumb's. They must have had
hard, cruel faces,-don't you think so? Certainly, even the most
beautifully formed features could not have made such a pair lovely.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would tell you about our new
servant-girl. She came from Norway, where (she tells us) they cook
enough in spring to last them all summer; and washing-day comes
only twice a year. The snow is so high that it covers the windows
so they cannot see outside.
While our girl lived there, she used to knit all the short winter
days, and make the house inside as cheery as possible.
Our girl has a picture of a farm in her trunk; she brought it from


THE LETTER-BOX.





THE LETTER-BOX.


S[AUGUST,








THE LETTER-BOX.


Norway. It don't look like our own dear farms, with fields of wheat,
corn and other grains. It has a few stubby trees, and a small but
strongly built house of logs. I had to tell her it was beautiful, as
she thinks a good deal of her native land. Of course, she has a
right to. But, ST. NICHOLAS, don't you think we had better stay
in our own dear native land, and let the people of Norway stay in
theirs ?
I like our girl very much, and hope I shall love her before she
leaves us.-Your loving reader, S.
P. S.-The reason why our girl left Norway was because her step-
mother made her step around too lively.



DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a girl ten years old, and live in Texas.
I read a long piece in your May number about ants, how they live.
I am more anxious to know how they die. There are two beds of
them in our yard. They sting us very often, which is very painful.
They stung my little brother, who is two years old, so thatit was two
or three hours before he got any relief.-Your friend.
MAY W. COLE.


THESE verses come to us from a little girl:
PUPPY.

BY VIOLET VARY.

I KNEW a little puppy,
The sweetest ever seen,
He had two lovely, lovely eyes,
The loveliest shade of green.
His hair it was long and curly,
And as white as the flakes of snow,
It was as soft as could be,
Even as soft as dough.
He never would borrow,
And he never would lend,
And he is dead now,
So this is the end.


WILL the authors of the poems beginning A little boy went out
to shoot one day," and "Birdie! Birdie! where 's your nest! and
of the verses entitled One of Mamma's Jingles," please send their
full names and addresses to the. Editor?


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We went on a fishing excursion not long
ago, out here in Texas. My brother and I soon got tired of fishing,
and we amused ourselves by burning wood-rats' nests. You might
think it cruel to burn their nests, but it is not, for the rats are very
destructive to the farmers' grain. The nests are made in the middle
of very prickly cactus which has thorns of all sizes, some large and
some small, the small being the worst, as they bury themselves
in the flesh, for they are as fine as a hair and give great pain. The
wood-rats' nests are made of the trash which they drag from the
woods and pile in the middle of the cactus; then they burrow under-
neath; they gnaw the roots of the cactus so as to make it die, but
even when it is dead the thorns are still a protection to the rats.
The wood-rat is of a grayish color and is of the size of a new-born
kitten; its tail is three inches long, and it has very small ears. We
set six nests on fire; we could have burnt more, but we were called
to dinner. In one place, where the cactus arched over, there was a
nice little bed; the bottom was covered with moss, and on top of the
moss there was fresh grass.-Yours truly, CONSTANCE T.


W. E. B. asked in the May Letter-Box" what was the only
green flower in the world. To this, Margaret Evershed, writing from
Guildford, England, replies: "The 'Daphne Laureola' has light-
green flowers; it is a small shrub, which grows in English woods.
There are also the Stinging Nettle,' 'Wild Mignonette,' Mercury,'
'Man-Orchis,' Tway-Blade,' 'Wild Clematis,' and 'Briony.'"
"Bessie and her cousin" answer: 'VerAtrum Viride,' which
grows in the woods near Wrentham, Mass., has a green flower."


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Perhaps persons trying to train cats will
like to know that I have succeeded in teaching my Maltese pussy to
perform a variety offunnytricks. In 1876 Iwas very ill; and, when'
I was recovering, my uncle sent me a two-months-old Maltese kitten,


very pretty and graceful. It being the year of the Exposition, I
named my little pet "Centennial," which was soon shortened to
Tenney. Tenney was a remarkably intelligent kitten, and though
he often worried me dreadfully, yet I generally enjoyed teaching him.
Tenney's first lesson was to ask for his dinner by sitting up on his
hind-legs, and crying. This he learned in two months.
Another trick I saw in Old-Fashioned Girl." I sat down before
the piano with Tenney in my lap, and a small stick, with which 1
pointed to the keys. By a practice of three months, Tenney would
strike each key that I pointed to, and, as I pointed fast, it sounded
quite prettily.
There is one trick which Tenney will not learn. That is, to hold
a piece of meat on his nose till I count ten, and then eat it. I lay
the meat on his nose and begin, One, two-" but it is of no use to
count further, for the meat has disappeared down Tenney's throat at
one gulp.-Your true friend, MAUDE ADDISON.


LIZZIE BRoWN.-The verses entitled "Our School," signed "A
Scholar," and with no address but Washington," are held until the
full postal address is made known to the Editor



MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Tallahassee, my home, is twenty miles
from the coast, a thousand feet above the sea-level. It is a very
pretty place, with its large live-oaks, magnolias, and gardens with
roses and japonicas. Near the city is old fort St. Louis, on a hill
of surpassing beauty. The tradition is, the Spaniards held a strong
fort here, the Indians surrounded the fort, and shot at it with their
arrows. The Spaniards became short of food. They set to work to
dig a subterranean passage, through which they safely passed. Four
stakes mark the place where they came out. Arrow-heads have been
found sticking in the trees. A crucifix, a gold spoon, and three
matchlock-guns were found there. I am just ten years old, and have
never been to school. WILLIE L. BETTON.

Niagara Falls, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Your answer about soap-bubbles to Perlie
Waterhouse, in a "Letter-Box" of several months ago, reminds me
of another, and very curious, instance of air getting into water. I
mean the cone-shaped jets that rise from the mist-shrouded whirl-
pool just beneath the Falls at Niagara, and reach sometimes above
the level of the top of the precipice. Most observers would think
these are jets of water only, but I believe they really are filled with
air, which, becoming pent in the vast sheets of water as they.fall,
strikes the rocks beneath, and rebounds with a great noise high up
into the air, carrying with it a coating or thick film of water.
No doubt many of the readers of the Letter-Box have seen these
jets, and will be glad to have this explanation of them.
B. R. W.


MATERIALS FOR CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.-Here is part of a timely
communication from E. A. E.: Please remind the children thatthe
gifts most pleasant to receive are those which have been made by the
hands of the givers, especially Christmas gifts. And tell them that
gourds are excellent material for home-made presents, and that now
is the season to plant them. The vines will hide an unsightly trellis,
wall or fence, and, after the early frosts, there will be plenty of dry
gourds of all shapes and sizes. Any boy or girl who has the knack
and taste for making quaint and dainty things can turn these gourds
into all kinds of work-baskets, card-receivers, vessels in which to
stand flower-bowls, imitation antique vases (made with mated bottle-
gourds), ring-stands, jewel-cases, ink-bottle holders, toilet-boxes,
match-safes and scores of other useful and ornamental articles.



DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: A few days ago, while in school, our little
school-ma'am asked one of her brightest scholars how many ninths
there were in a ship. She answered and said it depended upon
how large the ship was. I want to ask you what you think about it.
-Your constant reader, CLYDE M. ARNOLD.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My auntie in Vienna has a beautiful cat, a
striped Angora, with long hair and a bushy tail, and a very pretty
face. One day she left the cat in the house with Frau Weingarten,
who loved the cat, Pretzel, very much. She was dusting a room four
stories up, and opened a window. Pretzel saw a dove fly by and
jumped out of the window, never thinking how high it was. When
Frau Weingarten got down to the street, she found Pretzel lying
stretched out on the sidewalk, and more than a hundred people look-
ing at him. She took him up and carried him in, and the next day
Pretzel was as well as ever; but Frau Weingarten went to bed and
was sick for two days A. C. B.


z880.]


837







THE LETTER-BOX.


THIS picture was contributed by F. L. P., a twelve-year-old boy,
who drew it and used it in a little manuscript "paper," which he
edited by himself. The picture is a rebus, and the solution is the
answer to this question: Why is this a seeming impossibility?"



)



















FOR RAINY VACATION DAYs.-Make a two-letter square-word
like those given in this month's "Riddle-Box," but with four places
instead of three. The best one received shall be printed in the
"Riddle-Box," with the maker's name.


AN old friend of ST. NICHOLAS writes, among other things: Please
warn your young readers always to write plainly, or they may put
their friends into a predicament like that in which the sisters of the
great Lord Clive once found themselves. While he was in India,
these good ladies sent him a very handsome present from England.
They read in his reply that he returned them "an elephant." This
annoyed them very much, and put them to great inconvenience, in
trying to arrange what should be done with the huge animal on its
arrival. At length, when they were at their wits' end, they found
they had misread the letter. Their brother had written very badly,
saying he returned "an equivalent," -something equal in value,-
not an elephant!


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have a paper dated Saturday, January
4, i8oo. Did the Fourth of January, x8oo, come on a Saturday?
Please ask the "Letter-Box" readers to let me know.--Yours truly,
JIMMY C.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have a small but true story about a little
sea-gull, which I think will interest some of your contributors:
My father went down to Long Island on an excursion, and he
found several sea-gulls' nests, and out of some of them he took a few
eggs, and put them carelessly in his pocket and brought them home
to me, and said, "Here is something for you," and gave them to me.
I thanked him, and took them in my hand, when, suddenly, Squeak
squeak! came from one of the eggs. So I examined all of them till
I found the right one; and, when I found it, I kept it warm
In the morning the bird had hatched without feathers, and in the
afternoon you could not see the skin because of the down, which was
half an inch long. As soon as I could, I fed it on fish ..- I:.I ..r
with bread and boiled milk. The bird had to be fed every I.I, h ...
It was a good deal of trouble, but I kept it alive for four days before
it died. I tried to have it stuffed, but the taxidermist said that the
skin was too thin.
I think 'most all who read this will think it very queer, and so do I.
S. V., 13 years.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you about Jack, a little
black-and-tan terrier that belongs to my grandfather. Grandpa lives
about sixty miles up the Hudson River, and two or three years ago
I was spending the summer with him when the locusts were very
plentiful in that part of the country. Jack was very fond of locusts,
and would eat them with great relish; but he would not touch a dead
one. He was also very fond of grasshoppers, and after he-had
finished eating one, he would look up at you and wag his tail, as if
asking for more. He used to walk all over the piazza and eat all the
ants that happened to be upon it. One morning I was sitting on the
piazza when I heard a yelp from Jack, and on going to him to see what
was the matter, I found him engaged in a fight with a wasp, whose
nest he had ventured to attack. The wasp had stung him in the


mouth; but at last Jack struck him with his paw, and then ate him, and
seemed to like him very much. Don'tyou think this is a very queer
taste for a dog to have ? I think a society for the prevention of cruelty
to insects would be a very good thing; but I am afraid Jack would
not be enrolled as one of its members.-I remain, your faithful
reader, M. Du B. B.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Your story of "Why Patty spoke in
Church," in the February number, reminds me of something that
happened in our church. It was right in the middle of the sermon,
and I knew the noise came from Tommy's pocket. Everybody in
the church, even the clergyman, was looking straight at Tommy. The
noise sounded just like a kitten's squeak, anyway. There was
Tommy's'sister Bessie sitting next to him, and before her Mamma
could prevent it, Bessie had climbed upon the seat and stood straight
up. Then, looking right at the minister, she said:
"That 's my woolly pussy-cat's squeak. Tommy, he took the
squeak out of her to play with!"
Did you ever in all your life hear of a little girl doing such a thing
as that in church ?
Many of the people laughed, but the sermon soon went on again.
Only Tommy had to give the squeaker" to Mamma.-Yours truly.
G. H.


THE following little poem was translated, from the German of the
poet Uhland, by Lillian Gesner, a girl of thirteen years:

THE INN
I put up at an inn to dine,
Mine host was trusty, stanch;
A golden apple was his sign
Upon a bending branch.
It was a good old apple-tree
In whose house I put up,
Delicious food he offered me,
With nectar filled my cup.
And shelter neathh his green roof sought
Full many a light-winged guest;
They feasted, danced, and cared for naught,
But sang and danced their best.
I found a bed for soft repose,
The soft, green, grassy glade;
Mine host, himself, around me throws
His curtain's cooling shade.
I asked him what I had to pay,-
He shook his verdant crown;
May blessings, till the latest day,
Be o'er him showered down.


Plattsburgh, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: This fable in French, which I send, was
written all by myself. I hope you will print it in the magazine. I
am sixteen years old.-Yours truly, A. J. McN.
"LA VIGNE ET LA TRUELLE."
UNE Truelle s'appuyait centre une treille par laquelle une petite
f "'"i ', dit la Truelle mdcontente, "faut-il que je travaille
pendant que vous ne travaillez pas? Pour ma part, je desirerais que
vous fassiez come moi."
En v6rit6," r6pondit la petite Vigne, "je ne crois pas 6tre pares-
seuse. J'essaie de monster a la plus haute parties de la treille cet
&te, care pense que cela plaira au Jardinier."
Un Pommier voisin, aimant fire la morale, conclft ainsi: "De
vous-meme, Truelle, vous ne pouvez nouvoir d'un ponce. Outre
cela, nous sommes tous presque comme des outils dans la main de
notre Cr6ateur, et, sans son aide, nous ne pouvons mouvoir pas plus
que la Truelle."
Soyous semblables h la Vigne, croissant en grace et en pfrete de
ccur; grimpant par la treille de la vertu; etant contents de fair
l'ouvrage que le bon Dieu nous a donnd.

A. J. McN. sends also an English version of her fable, but other
ST. NICHOLAS boys and girls, who are studying French, may wish
to make their own translations of the fable into English. If so,
and if they send them to Editorial Rooms, ST. NICHOLAS, 743 Broad-
way, New York, before August o2, the best one shall be printed in
the "Letter-Box."
The translations are to be written on only one side of the paper,
marked with the ages, full names and addresses of their writers.


838


[AUGUST,







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


EASY NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
THE answer has five words spelled with twenty-one letters, and
is a common saying to a person who falls suddenly into a brown
study. The saying had its origin in Old England.
The 7, 17, 4, 5, 6 is comical. The 21, 8, 9, 13, to is grieved.
The 14, 16, i2, i8, 19 is hard to snap. The 15, Ir, so is raised
to a great heat. The 1, 2, 3 is an animal. GILBERT FORREST.


RIDDLE.
SUPPLY a different word at the end of each stanza.
I walked in the garden one sunny day;
There were roses, fair lilies and dusty-miller,
And many sweet flowers in bright array:
There, too, on a leaf, was a *+*<****"*.
To capture the stranger was easy quite;
Though a glass-covere-l .'::. .. -.t w r :"
I fed him and left him :,. r .ti ;
At morn, I found onl! .: ,.
I 've waited in patience full many i M. -.,a '
Still hoping my captive might fli-. -
On wings like the rainbow, so ,
brilliant and gay.
Behold him! Mly beautiful
LILIAN PAYSON.


TREE PUZZLE.
How would you arrange
twenty-nine trees so that there
should be twenty-two straight .
rows of them, and five trees in '
each row? CHARLES F. BROWN.


PYRAMID PUZZLE.
BI
R B
M M M .
EE i
RE-ARRANGE the letters of this pyramid so as to form a familiar
phrase of two words. N.

GEOGRAPHICAL PUZZLE STORY.
A GENTLEMAN named river in Virginia (i) mountains in New
Hampshire (2) sent a river in Brazil (3) to the store of the mountains
in Washington Territory (4), to order some islands in the Pacific
Ocean (5) for the wedding of his city in France (6).
The groom was lake in New York (7) peak in British America (8),
and the bride was named city in Italy (9) city in Texas (io), although
the bridegroom said he'd rather city in Cuba (xx), or city in North
Carolina (ia) than city in France (13) as she was so islands near
England (i4). It was this same man who went hunting one day and
brought home a cape of South America i5s), which he had taken from
a lake in Maine (x6).
As he wanted a river in Michigan (17) wedding, he had ordered
such quantities of bay on coast of Long Island, (18) town in New
Jersey (19), islands in Malaysia (20), river in Idaho (21), and country
in Europe (22), that people thought he could not be river in France
(23).
The bride had a dress of city in France (24), a city of Italy (25)
hat, a handsome mountain in Oregon (26), and one of her gifts was a
islands in the Atlantic (27). It was sea on coast of Asia (28).
On their tour the pair met with a great cape south of Australia (29).
The day was lake north of Minnesota (30) and the air very mountains
in North Carolina (31), and the path along which they strolled was
island south of Connecticut (32) and lake in New York (33), so
they were in constant cape of North Carolina (34). Once they forgot
to cape of North Carolina (35) and met city in France (36). In their
hurry to escape, the bride fell over the capital of one of the United
States (37), and raised a mountain in North Carolina (38) and mount-
ains in the eastern part of the United States (39) on her forehead,
and her sea east of Australia (40) jewelry was broken to pieces.
While she was getting well, the bridegroom dug some city in Ger-
many 141) and tried to catch cape of Massachusetts (42), but slipped
from the cape in the south of England (43), and had an unexpected


city in Maine (44). The water was very deep and he was in point
on coast of Australia (45) of being swallowed by country in Europe-
(46). He wished Noah could be there to rescue him in a city of New
Jersey (47). At last he reached the shore, mounted a horse, and,
holding by its one of the United States (48), was soon snug in a sea
in the south of Europe (49)-
This happened in cape of New Jersey (5o) during some cape on
Pacific coast of United States (51). H. R. w.


CENTRAL SYNCOPATIONS AND REMAINDERS.
1. SYNCOPATE images, and leave whips. 2. Syncopate part of
every house that has an upper floor, and leave to move about. 3..
Syncopate to disjoin and leave a prophet. 4. Syncopate a measure ol
weight, and leave the most lasting feature of a Cheshire cat. 5. Syn-
copate an animal with a beautiful skin, and leave one row of many-
rows. 6. Syncopate a weapon
of war, and leave part of a
ship. The svncopated




.A k- "
'-: /- ^ .. ^ ^


r. : EI'." PI(TIRE


IHE answer is one word of
seven letters, and is indicated
by the largest picture in the illustration. Each of the small pictures
represents an object, the name of which may be spelled from the let-
ters of the answer. GEORGE CHINN,


TWO-LETTER WORD-SQUARES.
THESE puzzles are like ordinary, one-letter word-squares, except-
ing that in each place where there is but one letter in the simple:
squares the new squares have two, thus:


FL OR IN

OR IO LE


IN LE TS


No heed is paid to breaking the words into proper syllables, but-
each couple of letters is kept together and used as if it were only one-
letter. The coupled letters form the same words whether read
straight across or downward.
The following puzzles are made in the same way as the example
shown:
I. I. A large wood. a. To make a person sit down again. 3. An
image. II. I. A person whose word has great weight. 2. Admit-
tance. 3. To become less. III. i. Neither beside nor after, nor-
above nor below. 2. To wander in search of food. 3. A ruler. IV.
I. A part of the year. 2. A Parsee. 3. A current. V. I. Hoards.
2. Adorned. 3. Regard. VI. I. Where Alexander won a victory
over Darius. 2. To suit. 3. To sorrow. VII. I. A living American,
artist. 2. Not I 3. A grain-eating insect z. z.


839


x88o.]







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


DOUBLE DOUBLE DITA-
ONAL PUZZLE


For Older Puzzlers.


the second with the left-to-right
diagonal, reading both downward.
The words follow in the order
given:
"He was self-absorbed, and, as
I


IN this puzzle, the cross a "gri ea Soi ittuew,
have each seven letters, al. ... a man of great So little was
two squares, one above th hi, e used to -- nature, that he
there being seven lines : "'might have seen a robin or a cro-
square. The diagonals of .: .- cus in without surprise. He
per square, reading the letter .I .. was severe, an of mirthfulness,
ward, are used for thediag. thinking all time which was
the lower square, ut with ag ,. passed in recreation. While prais-
chge in the spelling. ing he was himself bound by
UPPER SQUARE.-The d: l: mental bands as hard and unyield-
from left to right, and the d: ing as fetters of-. In argument
from right to left, reading: It_ or conversation he was subtle, fussy
downward, form all that is. v. L and ---, so that an agreeable dis-
any coin or medal. To .,.... -'h cussion would have formed a rare
cross-words: Fill the blan]- .. in his history.' P. B.
following sentence with w. I
make sense. Place then .i,, J ^ PI ORIL
each other in the order gii ..-. PICTORIAL IETA RAM.
t By being o will y appear. DESCRIBE one of thefive pictures
others, beincame, himsea ar ~ in the accompanying illustration,
othe, he becameut, bhimsell -. by one word of nine letters; from
ciallyinvolved. thBu ng -ose letters ake-one at a time
mind than most debtors i
mind to haven most dense of -the words needed to describe the
needed to have the sense of I .. .I .. four other pictures.
Nations continually- .. four other pictures. SUE.
himself a bankrupt, he still .
than once, rashly put his: ..
the notes and bills of p EASY SQUARE WORD.
spokensharpers. Hisintim'.. .-.
tried their best to the .- A pRuIT. a. A volcano. 3.
e tHtm FRUIT. 2. A volcano- 3.
ness of his fault, and to sl-.. : .. Wise insects. 4. Grate.
that business men would ha J
.cause to his character '-'
should continue to fo i.r: DOUBLE CENTRAL
while a hopeless debtor ACROSTIC.
himself."
LOWER SQUARE. -J .-IN this puzzle, the third and
The diagonal from left I1 fourth letters of the cross-words,
to right is an anagram l J read in the usual manner down-
.upon the left-to-right ward, form the two acrostic words.
diagonal 1 li ~ ,1,-1 ...s',*, Each cross-word has six letters.
square. .: .,-.- Cross-words: x. Fright. 2. Cov-
from right to left is an rings. 3. Wild. 4. Stupid, or
anagram uponthe right- ILLUSTRATION FOR PICTORIAL METAGRAM. unmoved. 5. Part of a suit of
to-left diagonal of the armor. 6. A short name for a girl
upper square. In find- with a long name.
ing the cross-words, the sentence must be completed as in the preced- Acrostic words: i. Formed by reading downward the third letters
ing instance, excepting that, in this one, the first blank is to be filled of the cross-words,-An uprising. 2. Formed by reading downward
with the word which forms the diagonal running from right to left; the fourth letters of the cross-words,-Dominions. CYRIL DEANE.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.


FouR EASY SQUARE WORDS. I. i. Sane. 2. Arid. 3. Nice. 4.
Eden. II. I. Hunt. 2. Utah. 3. Nape. 4. Thew. III. i. Pose.
2. Omen. 3. Seed. 4. Ends. IV. i. Atom. 2. Type. 3. Opal.
-4 Melt. CHARADE. Regent-bird.
CONNECTED DIAMONDS. S P
TUN ALE
SUGAR-PLUMS
NAG EMU
R S
ENIGMATICAL FABLE. The vine has tendrils (ten drills)
BIOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. Samuel Finley Breese Morse.
TRANSPOSITIONS. I. Notes, tones, onset,, stone. II. Tars, star,
arts, rats. III. Amy, May, yam.
DIAMOND. I. 0. 2. ARm. 3. AlTar. 4. OrtOlan. 5. MaLay.
6. RAy. 7. N.
TELEGRAPHIC PATRIOTIC VERSE. Hymn "America." First
stanza. --PICTORIAL ENIGMA. The Glorious Fourth of July.


DIAGRAM. The accompanying diagram shows the solution of
"Crow's" puzzle in July "Letter-Box":
REVOLUTIONARY PUZZLE.
" The star spangled banner; oh, long
may it wave
O'er the land of the free, and the
home of the brave! "
Francis Scott Key.
SCENES IN AMERICAN HISTORY. I.
Israel Putnam. II. John Andr6. H
III. Patrick Henry. IV. Francis
Marion. ,
BIBLICAL ACROSTIC RIDDLE. Za-
noah (Joshua 5, 34). r. Ziz (2 a
Chr., so, x6). 2. Ara (i Chr., 7, 38).
3. Non (I Chr. 7, 27). 4. Ono (r
Chr., 8, 12). 5. Ava (2 Kings, 17, 24). 6. Halah (2 Kings, 18, in).


ANSWERS TO MAY PUZZLES were received, too late for acknowledgment in June number, from: "Two little bees," of Avon, France,
3-F. C. H. and M. H. H., of Wimbledon Common, England, 4-and E. E. S., z2.
SOLUTIONS OF PUZZLES in the June number were received, before June 2oth, from R. N. B., i-J. E. B., I-E. S. T., x-L. H. D. St.
V., 5- B. B., i-A. N. B., 5-F. C., i--M. B. C., 6-C. H. B., i-D. M., i-B. T., 7- "Bessie & Cousin," 8-G. A. H., 9-L. C.
F., 7-A. P. R., M. B., i- "Rex," Cadiz, 3- E. and A., 4- R. B. C., i- C. F. and H. L. B. Jr., 8- "Helen's Babies," 7- W. 0.
J., Jr., 4-" Konny," 6-J. V. L. P., 9- B. W., 6- S. W. P., 6- G. and H. R., 6- Two Cousins," 7- C. H., Jr., 4- L L. V. L., 7
--E. andR. P., 4-T. S. V. P., 8-A. H. and G. F. L., 5-R.R., z-S. F. C.,4-L. E. L., 7-A. W., 2-L. H. P., 7-C. and M. F.
S., 4- B. R. H., 9- C. H. H., i-K. F., 7- Robin Hood, 3- A. K. P., 12-P. S. C., Beverly, 9--C. R. McM., i--R. A. G., 4- Stowe
Family, ri- F. L. K., o- W. A. and H. B. H., 8-L. G. C., 4- O. C. T., I- Pansy, 9- Two Little Bees," 5-P. S. C., 6- J. McK., 9.
Numerals denote number of puzzles solved.


.840


[AUGUST.





















. .. ..




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