Front Cover
 Front Matter
 The wrong promise
 One of his names
 The children's fan brigade
 Out of style
 Stories of art and artists: First...
 How the aristocrats sailed...
 The first tooth (picture)
 Fire-light phantoms - In nature's...
 The thing-a-ma-jig
 Every boy his own ice-boat
 New year's day - Phaeton Roger...
 A snow battle
 A dear little girl of nantucket...
 Mystery in a mansion
 The fast goat line
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover


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mods:accessCondition type restrictions on use displayLabel Rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
mods:identifier NOTIS ocm0176
OCLC 7405657; (DLC)SF 89099153
(DLC) 2006255186; 55136171
mods:languageTerm text English
mods:physicalLocation Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
code UF
mods:name personal
mods:namePart Dodge, Mary Mapes
date 1830-1905
mods:roleTerm authority marcrelator Creator
mods:note Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
funding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
mods:publisher Scribner,
mods:placeTerm New York
mods:dateIssued -c1943.
mods:recordIdentifier source ufdc UF00065513_00096
mods:recordContentSource University of Florida
mods:relatedItem original
mods:extent 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
mods:title St. Nicholas.
mods:detail Enum1
mods:caption Vol. 8
mods:number 8
No. 3
mods:topic Children's literature -- Periodicals.
Literature for Children
Saint Nicholas: Vol. 8, no. 3
Saint Nicholas
mods:typeOfResource text
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D1 Front Cover
P1 Page
D2 Matter
D3 Frontispiece
P4 Plate
D4 The wrong promise 4 Chapter
P5 177
P6 178
P7 179
P8 180
D5 One his names 5 Poem
P9 181
D6 children's fan brigade 6
P10 182
P11 183
P12 184
P13 185
D7 Out style 7
P15 186
D27 Stories art and artists: First paper
P16 187
P17 188
P18 189
P19 190
P20 191
P14 192
D9 Handel 9
P21 193
D10 How the aristocrats sailed away 10
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P23 195
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P25 199
P26 200
P27 201
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P28 202
D11 Fire-light phantoms 12
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P35 209
D12 thing-a-ma-jig 13
P36 210
D13 Every boy own ice-boat 14
P38 212
P39 213
P40 214
P41 215
P42 216
D14 New year's day 15
P43 217
P44 218
P45 219
P46 220
P47 221
P48 222
P49 223
P50 224
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P51 225
P52 226
P53 227
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P55 229
P56 230
D16 Brier-rose 17
P57 231
P58 232
P59 233
P60 234
D17 A snow battle 18
P61 235
P62 236
D18 dear little girl nantucket 19
P63 237
P64 238
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P66 240
D19 Mystery in a mansion 20
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Saint Nicholas: Vol. 8, no. 3
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00096
 Material Information
Title: Saint Nicholas: Vol. 8, no. 3
Series Title: St. Nicholas.
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner,
Publication Date: -c1943.
Subjects / Keywords: Literature for Children
Genre: Children's literature
serial   ( sobekcm )
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: notis - ocm0176
oclc - 7405657; (DLC)SF 89099153
oclc - (DLC) 2006255186; 55136171
System ID: UF00065513:00096

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    The wrong promise
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
    One of his names
        Page 181
    The children's fan brigade
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
    Out of style
        Page 186
    Stories of art and artists: First paper
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
    How the aristocrats sailed away
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
    The first tooth (picture)
        Page 202
    Fire-light phantoms - In nature's wonderland
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
    The thing-a-ma-jig
        Page 210
        Page 211
    Every boy his own ice-boat
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
    New year's day - Phaeton Rogers
        Page 217
        Page 218
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        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
    A snow battle
        Page 235
        Page 236
    A dear little girl of nantucket - New Year's calls
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
    Mystery in a mansion
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
    The fast goat line
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
    The letter-box
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
    The riddle-box
        Page 255
        Page 256
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text




1 / /.. a we acmodd f izw nem

Coo7 a a/ **a .^ /^ ,^

Edg'em tta as d/d //a //. .ay 24j

__I __





JANUARY, 1881.

[Copyright, 188o, by Scribner & Co.]



WELL At last Christmas has really come "
Oh, Kitty! Have you seen Santa Claus? "
asked six-year-old Nell, thinking, from her sister's
tone, that she certainly had let the children's saint
in at the front door.
"Not exactly; but he has sent something--a
"A tree! A tree! screamed both Nell and
"Yes, a tree; and now all that's left is for
mother to dress it, and I 'm to help her."
As Katy pronounced these last words, she seemed
to grow taller before the children. They stared
with wonder, and she bore her honors anything
but meekly, looking provokingly self-satisfied, and
with an "I 'm-so-much-bigger-than-you air that
George, who was nearly nine, "'only wished she
were a boy, so 's he could thrash her."
"Yes, I'm to help That is, if you look after
Jenny and the baby (George at once resolved that
Baby should have a trying time); "and if you both
will be very good and keep the little ones amused,
I'll- "
Kate paused.
"What '11 you do?" asked Nell, eagerly, while
George mentally held the baby balanced between
a state of rapture and one of anguish. Kate looked
cautiously around.
I 'll let you two see the tree to-night "
To tell the truth, this was a very sudden resolu-
tion of Kate's. She could not think in an instant
what to promise. Her pocket-money had all gone for
card-board, worsteds, and the etceteras of Christmas
work. Apples, her great resource, had failed of
VOL. VIII.-12.

late, and in her eager desire for a free time she
made a promise which she knew was wrong. But,
if wrong, it was very successful. Nell's face may
have looked doubtful, but George, the great enemy
of peace, was evidently gained over. Baby was
sure to be whistled to and jouncedd," instead of
teased and tormented.
It was the custom in the Reade family to have
the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, because
then the little ones were bright and able to enjoy it
fully. Besides, as Mrs. Reade argued, they then
had the day before them for enjoying the presents,
instead of having to go to bed in a state of excite-
ment and impatience for the morning.
Tate, Mamma 's doin' to bring 'er baby down
wight away !" said Jenny, marching in with her
apron full of kittens. It was clear that the house-
hold was upset, or Jenny's kittens would not have
been allowed in the sitting-room. The tree was to
be in the nursery, and so, for that day, all the
children were to stay down-stairs.
"Here, Kate," said Mrs. Reade, coming in with
Baby in her arms, "here's the darling; get them
all happy and contented, and then you may come
It was wonderful what a sudden turn for Kinder-
garten pleasures, of the very simplest kind, George
developed. He rolled balls about the room, and
was so attractive that even Jenny forgot her pets
and joined in the game. Kate slipped off, delighted
with her success.
"That was a lucky thought," she said to herself,
complacently, and then soon forgot promise, Baby,
and all, in the delight of hanging cornucopias,

No. 3.


climbing the step-ladder, and balancing the Christ-
child on the very top of the tree.
As for the mother,-like all mothers,-she loved
her children, if possible, a little more than ever, as
she hung the presents which had been obtained
through much self-denial and patience on her part.
It was very delightful to sit down and look on, in-
stead of doing all the work herself; and as Kate's eyes
danced with pleasure while she hung up George's
sled and Nell's new muff, never seeming to notice
the utter lack of anything for herself, the mother
felt as if this eldest daughter was the jewel of all.
"I have n't heard a quarrelsome word nor a
scream," she said, after an hour or two of busy
work. "Just step to the door,- Katy, girl, and
make sure all is right."
As Kate opened the door, a peal of merry laugh-
ter sounded from the room below.
That 's answer enough, is n't it, Mother?"
You must have bewitched them, Kate," said
Mrs. Reade,-" given them some of your own
good temper, my dear little daughter."
Kate was tying on the oranges, and we all know
how bothersome that part of the dressing must be;
perhaps that was why her face flushed and she did
not give her mother the grateful look which
usually repaid Mrs. Reade for words of praise.
But the mother did not miss the look; her
thoughts had gone on to the other children, to the
boy whose teasing ways gave her so much trouble,
and Kate seemed so grown up and womanly that
Mrs. Reade spoke out her thoughts, as if to an
older friend.
George is a trying boy; he vexes you often, I
know, Kate, and his father, too. Still, we must
have patience; almost all boys tease their sisters,
and if only he is truthful and upright, doing no sly,
deceitful things, I don't mind the teasing; he will
learn a truer manliness by and by. The boy is
kind-hearted, after all; but, Katy, I am so afraid
lest George should learn to be-to be-not exactly
upright and truthful! "
Mrs. Reade's tone was so anxious that Katy for-
got her oranges for a moment, and, flinging herself
at her mother's feet for a rest (perhaps, too, to
take in the general effect of the tree from a little
distance), said, rather absently: Oh, George is
truthful enough; he despises lying."
"Yes; but have you noticed the difference
between Nell and George? You remember about
the citron-cake, don't you?"
"Yes, Mother, but George owned that he had
taken it."
Yes; but Nell was so hurt that any one could
think she would be so mean as to take a thing slyly.
'If I took it at all, I'd take it when you were look-
ing, Mother,' she said, and I believe the child spoke

truly,-she might disobey, but she never would tell
a falsehood about it. She is the soul of honor."
What is the matter? Somehow the tree is not
half so beautiful in Kate's eyes as it was. She
tries to get up her interest again, and laughs and
jokes, hailing Aunt May's entrance with delight,
for she feels that she cannot bear any more of this
confidential talk. Nell the soul of honor 1
The startled, doubtful look in the child's face is
explained. Kate is sure, now, that Nell will take
no peep at the Christmas tree, and she is quite as
sure that she herself will be mean and deceitful if
she keeps her promise to George. Something must
be done. A happy thought strikes her.
Mother," she says, the tree is all finished so
early-wont you have it to-night, instead of to-
morrow morning? The Tracys, and Campbells,
and Manns all have theirs to-night."
"To-night! The tree to-night? Why, Kate,
child, have you forgotten your Christmas-eve party,
at Mary Mann's, which you have talked of for a
month past? Besides, your father is kept so late
at the store to-night, you know, that we couldn't
keep the children up."
No, it was impossible; and Kate, to forget her
anxiety and quiet her conscience, went down to the
children. The moment she opened the door,
George sprang up, saying, in a cautious under-
"Are you through ? When are we to see ? "
With her mother's words in -her mind, the boy's
tone was painful to Kate.
"We're all through," she said, with a poor at-
tempt at dignity; "but, George" (with- sudden
desperation, as she noted his eager expression),
"can't I buy off from my promise ?"
The boy scowled angrily. "I should think not!
Here I 've been playing nurse for two hours and
more, besides keeping Jenny quiet! No; you
promised, and I must get a look, unless-" said
George, always ready to seize an advantage, and
feeling sure he was suggesting something impos-
sible-" you 'd give me your skates instead."
To his surprise, Kate did not laugh at the idea-
she neither accepted nor refused his offer. Baby,
tired from his busy play, was dropping asleep, and
in five minutes George had gone out to the street,
Jenny had wandered into the kitchen, and only
Nell and Kate were left in the room.
You don't care to look, do you ? said Kate,
feeling fairly ashamed to ask the sturdy little woman
such a question.
I was n't going to," was the short reply.
"What does she think of me? thought Kate;
and anxious to raise herself in Nell's eyes, she tried
to explain matters.
"I really did n't think, Nell, how mean it was,





and now I don't want to show George-it's bad for
him-but I can't help it! Unless -- "
Kate paused-the alternative was too dreadful.
Kate's one ambition for the last year had been a
pair of club-skates; though, as she often said, how
she ever came to hope for them was strange, as she
knew very well that her parents, with their limited
means, could never spare the money for such ex-
travagance. But, most unexpectedly, it happened
that Kate's godmother, whom she never saw and


who had never given her even a christening pres-
ent, had suddenly awakened to a sense of what (in
most cases) is expected of godmothers, and on
Kate's birthday, which came in October, had sent
five dollars to be spent on something that would
give the child pleasure." Kate overlooked the term
" child in her delight at owning the wherewithal for
the coveted skates. They had been bought at
once, and only twice since had the ice been strong
enough for Kate to use them; but again and again
had she put them on. George, too, had been
allowed to prove that they fitted him quite as well
as they fitted Kate. And now, either she must
cheat and lead George astray, or give up those
precious skates! She could not do it!

All this has taken time to tell, but Nell, as her
sister paused, said quietly, and as if it were a very
easy matter:
He said he 'd take the skates instead."
Kate fairly writhed. So Nell had heard?
I know; but, Nell,-my skates "
It was a tone that a mother might have used in
speaking of parting from her child, and the distress
was so deep that even Nell, who was not so warm-
hearted or impulsive as Kate, felt sorry for her sister.
"I wish I could get
you another pair. Oh,
I' 11 tell you! I '11 ask
'[. 8Santa Claus !"
Now it happened that
so far Nell's little wants
had' all been within the
t compass of her parents'
means, so, having re-
ceivedwhat she had asked
S for, she had most implicit
faith in Santa Claus.
Kate envied the little
girl's faith-it would have
made her sacrifice so
much easier.
S "Daughter," called her
mother at this moment,
'put on your things and
take this note to the store,
and wait for an answer."
SI Here was a respite.
Delighted at the prospect
S of a walk down Broad-
way, the girl hurried off.
She grew so interested in
the Christmas show-win-
dows, besides meeting two
-. or three of her school
-- friends whose chat divert-
ed her mind, that by the
time she reached the store
she had quite forgotten George and her promise,
and felt quite cheerful and bright again. She
stepped up to her father, who, instead of looking
bright and cheerful, was standing talking hurriedly
to some gentlemen, and appeared to have just heard
bad news.
"Ah, Katy! Dear, dear!" he said, in an
excited tone. I shall have to tell your mother,
child! Sam Barker has just been discovered cheat-
ing-he has robbed his employers, little by little. I
hardly could feel worse if it were one of you. Oh,
Katy, my girl," and her father's voice was strangely
solemn and impressive, "never cheat nor deceive,
at any cost-at any cost."
The news, his words and looks, brought her




trouble all back to Kate, but she saw it in a clearer
George will see what I think of cheating, and
perhaps he will learn a lesson as well as myself. I
was a fool to make such a promise, but I '11 give up
my skates."
Back she went, and at the corner of the street
George met her.
"Hurry up," he said. There's a good chance
now,-Mother 's putting Jenny to bed, and we can
slip up easily. Nell is n't going to look."
Did she tell you why ? "
The boy hung his head.
She says it's mean. But you proposed it, so it
can't be so very bad."
"It is mean, George, and bad; and oh, George,
I '11 give you my skates, only never, never deceive
and rob your employers !"
Poor Kate's overtaxed nerves gave way, and she
almost sobbed in the street, while George, blank
with astonishment, stood staring at her. When he
heard what Sam Barker, whom he had known so
well, had done, it may be he appreciated his sister's
feelings, in part, but he could not resist keeping
Kate to her bargain, and so hurried her home to.
give him the skates.
On entering the house, Kate ran upstairs, full of
indignation at George's intense selfishness, and yet
happier than she had been all day.
"Here they are," she said, throwing upon the
sitting-room table the pretty blue flannel bag which
she had taken so much trouble to make.
George was ashamed to take them, but as she
ran out of the room instantly, he lifted the bag from
the table, and then hurried to his room to gloat
over his treasures, and prepare the heels of his
shoes. But as he polished his "beauties" he sud-
denly stopped and listened. Nell had been sent up
to bed, and through the open door of the next room
to his, George heard this strange little prayer:
"Please, Santa Claus, bring Sister Kate a pair
of club-skates. She feels awfully, Santa Claus, but
she wants George to be a truly true boy. So give
her the skates. For Jesus' sake. Amen."
The boy held the skates, and thought. He was
not inclined to smile at the idea of praying to Santa
Claus, for he suddenly realized that it is from God
that every good gift-small as well as great-comes.
And He is sending me presents-nice things, I'll1
be bound How mean I must look to Him "
The skates were shoved into the bag, wrapped
in brown paper, and then, with a feeling somewhat

like reverence, George wrote, in his best hand,
" Katy, from Santa Claus."
S S *
The morning dawned clear and cold; no chance
for sleds, but skates would be at a premium; The
Reade family were all up betimes, you may be sure,
and though the parents felt the shock of their young
friend Barker's sin and disgrace, they let no sign
of it mar the jollity of the Christmas proceedings.
The children chattered at the breakfast table in
joyful anticipation of coming delights.
"There's a present on the tree that nobody
knows of but me," said Nell.
Mother smiled at the notion, while George
thought of a hidden bundle, with its string all
ready to be tied to the tree, and felt wonderfully
happy and important.
Kate was too sympathetic and fond of the little
ones to allow her own trouble to shadow her face,
but it must be owned that one corner of her heart
felt sore and empty. At last, all were gathered in
the upper hall, and arranged before the two doors
of the nursery so that, when they were flung open,
all should "see first."
"Oh, how beautiful! Howbeautiful!"
Then in they rushed, and for at least five minutes
the children danced and capered about the dazzling
tree. Mrs. Reade saw George fasten something
on, but thinking it was a present for his father or
herself, said nothing.
Then came the stripping of the tree. What
shouts of delight, as the little ones received just
what they had asked of Santa Claus But Nell,
though delighted with her muff, and the new outfit
which Kate had made for her doll, kept looking
among the branches for some particular thing. At
last, George managed to bring her around to where
his parcel hung, and something in its shape made
her say: "Oh, Katy! Here it is!"
Father and Mother drew near as Kate opened
the parcel bearing her name.
A good joke !" laughed Papa. "Her own be-
loved skates re-presented !"
The look on Kate's face George never forgot, nor
her hearty thanks when they had a quiet minute
They're yours and mine, now, George," she
said; and so they proved, the two skating in turn
all winter, and loving each other more than ever
from having seen a better side of each other's char-
acter. They each had learned a life-long- lesson
from that wrong promise.






NEVER a boy had so many names;
They called him Jimmy, and Jim, and James,
Jeems and Jamie; and well he knew
Who it was that wanted him, too.

The boys in the street ran after him,
Shouting out loudly, "Jim! Hey, J-i-m-m "
Until the echoes, little and big,
Seemed to be dancing a Jim Crow jig.

And little Mabel out in the hall
" Jim-my / Jim-my!" would sweetly call,
Until he answered, and let her know
Where she might find him; she loved him so.

Grandpapa, who was dignified,
And held his head with an air of pride,
Did n't believe in abridging names,
And made the most that he could of J-a-m-e-s."

But if Papa ever wanted him,
Crisp and curt was the summons "Jim!"
That would make the boy on his errands run
Much faster than if he had said "My son."

Biddy O'Flynn could never, it seems,
Call him anything else but Jeems,"
And when the nurse, old Mrs. McVyse,
Called him "Jamie," it sounded nice.

But sweeter and dearer than all the rest,
Was the one pet name that he liked the best;
"Darling! "-he heard it whatever he was at,
For none but his mother called him that.





- -

_ _,_,, ,,_ -, .

,~1 ,"' ,i ,'





WHAT shall we have for our entertainment? was
the question that puzzled the committee; the oper-
etta of Red Riding-hood already was decided upon
for a part of the programme; but that was not
enough. Something was needed to finish up the
evening nicely with a good round turn; something
novel and interesting. And when it was suggested
that a "children's fan brigade" might answer the
description, the idea was seized upon and approved.
Now, you must know that in San Francisco the
ladies' fan drill (founded on a paper written by
Addison in the year 1711) is considered quite a
feature in an entertainment; but a children's
brigade is decidedly a novelty.
"Very well," said the chairman. "Weshallhave
the children's fan drill, and leave it all to you, Miss
This all sounded very pleasant and easy, but Miss
Lacy had her hands full for the next four weeks.
After selecting eight little girls, and arranging
matters so that somebody always would be ready to
play on the piano for the rehearsals, we decided
upon our music. The Gavotte Circus Renz and
Tridping through the Meadows (accentuated on
first and third beats) were found to be appropriate;
the latter, which is very simple, was chosen for the
drill, while the first part of the former, on account
of its quaint rhythm, was used for the bows.
Now I tell the story, so that others who wish to
have a children's fan brigade can take hints there-
First came the bows. The children stood, with
their sides to the audience, in two rows, thus:
f f S *S
The tallest pair occupied the two middle places f f,
and the other three pairs of children arranged be-
hind them (as shown by the asterisks) were ready
to step forward, a pair at a time, and take the place
of each preceding couple that should leave the line.
When all were in position, as described, one bar of
music was played as a preliminary, each child
counting four with the music; then the leaders at
f f advanced from their companions and toward
each other four steps (counting four); then bowed
slowly to each other (counting four)-see picture
on page I84-then turning to their right and left
respectively (toward the audience), stepped four
steps; then facing and bowing again (counting
four), each turned off, one to the right, the other to
the left, circling back to place at the rear of their
respective rows. Meantime, the second couple had
followed, on the fourth bar of music, making their

first bow in unison with the second bow of the first
couple; the third and fourth couple following the
same course, in turn, with perfect precision.
This figure can be fairly understood only by
practical experiment and with careful counting.
When it is accomplished correctly, two couples will
bow together till all are in line; they repeat the
entire figure, the middle pair bowing whenever they
come together, the last time facing the audience.
The beginning is very stately and elegant if per-
formed slowly and in perfect time; and if the bows
are of the old-fashioned minuet-curtsey kind. Miss
Lacy frequently took her children by the shoulders
and pressed them down, telling them to bow
at the same time, the object being to have them
droop toward the floor very low, rather than to
curve their bodies.
The fans should be of paper (five-cent Chinese
fans will do to practice with, as many are broken in
the drill), the object being to make a considerable
crackling noise.
All now stand in line with fans on shoulders;
then count four; then down with fans to the side,
(hanging downward); all this with the right hand, of
course. Now for the drill; this is difficult to explain,
even when written carefully and illustrated; but to
simplify, it may be said to have a rest after each
movement in the following list (excepting those
joined by a brace). In the "rest," the fan is held
downward at the side and closed with a sharp snap;
for the fan must be constantly fluttered, excepting
when otherwise employed, as herein detailed. The
movements may be performed in succession, with
the drill-prompter concealed from the audience, and
giving the word of command in a whisper. Or
the drill-prompter may call out each command after
the manner of a military captain: "Hold, fans!"
"Unfurl, fans !" etc., etc.

I. HOLD FANS. Counting four. Fan spread in front,
held with both hands.
2. UNFURL. Counting four. Each fan held against left
shoulder by left hand, while right hand pulls it open
outward at one, shut at two, open at three, shut at
3. GENTLE FLUTTER. Counting four. Wavingfanin
the ordinary way, but with two flutters to a count-
making eight little flutters.
4. MAJESTIC WAVE. Counting eight. In two waves,
fan thrown out to right, head held up looking toward
it, fan in large curve, counting I, 2, as it is thrown
out, 3, 4, as it tips over just in front of eyes.
5. SCORNFUL. Counting eight. Head turned to the





left, fan in large curve past the face, counting as in
preceding movement, twvo waves.
6. PLAYFUL. Counting eight. One step forward,
body slightly bent, fan held open, spread on a line
with the eyes and fluttered.
7. BASHFUL. Counting eight. Head turned away to
the left, eyes looking downward, fan hiding face
With light flutter.
8. ANGRY. Counting eight. One step forward with a
light stamp of the foot, fan struck angrily on breast.
9. INVITING. Counting eight. Body leanedforward to
|right, fan with scoop-like movement in four large
waves toward face.
10. REPELLENT. Counting eight. -leadquickly turned
away, same position of body, waves away from the
11. GOSSIP. Counting eight. Fan held over head,
spread, slightly inclined, line to break up in groups
of two each, as if whispering.
12. PRESENT ARMS. Counting four. Return in line,
shut fans in front instead of "rest" at the side, then
present Fans aimed straight outward at audience,
each outside stick of fan held by one hand separately.
13. CRACK FANS. Counting four. Left hand let go,
right gives a brisk crack, opening fan atfour.
14. SHOULDER FANS. Counting four. Leaned on
shoulder, shut.
15. CARRY FANS. Counting eight. Struck on palm
of left hand eight times.
16. GROUND FANS. Counting two. Up at one, struck
on ground at two, held on shoulder at three, by the
side at four.

17. RETREAT FANS. Counting four. Step back four
18. TRIUMPH FANS. Counting four. One step for-
ward, fan held straight up over the head, closed.
19. SPREAD FANS, Countingfour. Atfour, fanthrown
20. SURRENDER FANS. Counting four. Fan let fall
on the floor.
21. RECOVER FANS. Counting four. Picked up and
22. MILITARY SALUTE. Counting four. At one, straight
out to the right, fan held up parallel with body, two
at cheek, three out, four down, the rest counting
four before the next movement, as in the others.
23. DISCHARGE FANS. Counting four. At three, held
in front of shoulder by one stick, at four, thrown
open outward with brisk crack.
24. FAN SALUTE. Counting four. Atfour, held to the
lips and outward with inclination of the head.

"Oh dear," said Miss Lacy, "where is your time,
Maud ?" and she beat with her own fan on her
palm to accentuate the time. It was surprising to
see the interest the children all took in their drill,
and how pleased Mabel and Maggie were when
they were told that they were "more accurate"
than the others, and how the others went to work
to prove that they could be accurate, too. And
what sudden improvement there was between two

C i,. zV
.,5: ,! .L:" I: -':':

X.. 4 J: *" '. '


rehearsals, how the laggards gained on the steady
ones, and improved in their idea of time; and how
the fans were torn, and, finally, how the little
girls begged to be allowed to "to do it just once




more," when it seemed they must be completely
tired out!
And then their dresses! 0 dear, such pretty
costumes, all in the style of Queen Anne You
would not have recognized those little school-girls
of nine to twelve years-all small children-in those
gayly dressed, stately little dames with pointed
waists, court trains fifty inches long, silk petticoats,
white wigs, and tower caps. They were what
some little girls call "too sweet for anything."
Now, of course, to get up a fan drill, the
mammas must not be discouraged at the outset by
the thought of silk dresses and such things, so I
will reveal some secrets on the subject.
Maggie and Florence had pointed waists and
court trains of silesia covered with cretonne flowers;
the first was of buff, with wine-colored flowers, the
second of blue, with tea and pink roses. You
have no idea how pretty they looked with all the
lace fixings at the neck and sleeves, and laced in
front, with some old-fashioned silk skirt of their
mamma's tucked up underneath for petticoats,-
one of apple-green, the other striped. Lillie and
Maud each had a pink waist and train, with cre-
tonne flowers and a blue petticoat. Mabel and
Lizzie had cretonne upper parts made very prettily,
the former a petticoat of pink-pressed satin, such
as is used for fancy work, and the latter a puffed
blue front of silesia. Teenie and Alice had also

silk flowers, a relic of ancient splendor, improvised
into a petticoat front.
Alice's suit was of blue and white sprigged cre-
tonne, a very pretty blue front of silesia braided
with gold braid, criss-cross, up and down, with old-
fashioned porcelain picture on her bodice-waist.
Then Miss Lacy and her friends spent a couple
of days making the caps and wigs. About four
yards of white tarletan and eight yards of ribbon-
wire made the caps, and a pound of pure white
curled hair, bought in the rope (a wise plan of
which few people avail themselves in amateur
theatricals), made the wigs.
The caps are about twice the height of the face,
as seen in the pictures, with box-plaited ruching
around the edge concealing the wire, the tarletan
for the caps taken double, and streamers of the
same hanging down the back.
The caps can be made much prettier with silk
lining, to match the costume, lace trimming and
rosettes; but it is much more easy to make them
in the simpler style, and the result is more appro-
priate to the childish faces.
The curled hair, untwisted carefully and kept in
a long strand, is shaped to the head, sewed with a
needle and thread to hold it together, and after the
inside hair is rolled up_ in a little knot, is fastened
by hair-pins, and tied around with a ribbon of black
velvet to conceal the line where the real hair joins





cretonne, the former in red ground, full of flowers the forehead, having a little frizz of white hair
and humming-birds; trimmed with silver fringe, below. I must not forget to mention the wee black
with a fancy blue satin apron embroidered in white court-plaster patches, which must be cut before-


hand, ready to be put on at the last moment, three Anne, and gain an idea of how she dressed; and if
or four on each little face. they follow it up, they can know she lived about two
When the eventful evening came, there was con- centuries ago, that Addison, the author, lived in her


siderable excitement among the little girls, for they
each dressed at home, wearing ulsters over their
dresses, and their school hats, till half through the
entertainment, when they met in the dressing-room,
having their caps and wigs and trains arranged
(which last they had practiced in several times).
And then, as the piano struck up the stately march,
the eight grand little ladies walked up the aisle,
the four half-couples stopping as they reached the
stage till the other four passed them and turned
around facing; then they took position, stepped
toward each other, bowed low, slowly using a
whole bar of music for this, the little tower-caps
nearly touching, then four steps to the front of the
stage, another stately bow, and around, each fol-
lowing in place, bowing and marching. Then the
drill passed off in perfect time, with only one little
bit of a mistake, unnoticed save by Miss Lacy's
observant eyes, clear through to the end, and the
salute was gracefully given, when the curtain fell
amidst a full round of applause, which increased so
that they were compelled to raise it again, when the
little white-haired dames, covering their confusion,
stepped back to place, and repeated the drill in
perfect time without an error.
Some sober-minded persons may ask of this Fan
Brigade What does it signify ?" I think it could
be put in the category with all beautiful things that
arouse our sense of the picturesque and artistic.
In the first place, it is a drill requiring brightness,
quickness, and very good time-keeping; in the sec-
ond, the little girls learn there was a good Queen

time, and in 1711 wrote about the fan in his
periodical, the Spectator. In the third place, it
is a charming home amusement or it forms a
pretty addition to an entertainment, capping the
climax, one may say. And, finally, the childhood
days of the little girls who perform will be bright-

', .I


ened by the sparkling memories they will carry to
mature old age, of the time when they wore white
hair and yet were young.






AN old and respectable Ostrich
Was seized with a wish to work cross-stitch-
I could cover my eggs
And ridiculous legs
With rugs and with mats," said the Ostrich.

So she went to a friendly red Heifer,
And purchased some needles and zephyr,
Some canvas and crash,
And some burlap, for cash,
" For I don't sell on trust," said Miss Heifer.

But when, casually, the old Ostrich
Remarked that she meant to work cross-stitch,
Miss Red-Heifer's smile
Made her feel that her style
Was obsolete,--e'en for an Ostrich.

Said Miss Heifer, "My dear Mrs. Ostrich,
Art-embroidery now is the "boss" stitch,-

My position is gone,
Yes, for good, with the ton,
If they hear you 've worked cross-stitch my
crash on!"

Do you fancy this settled the Ostrich?
No She 'd made up her mind to work cross-
So she picked up her zephyr,
And said, "Madame Heifer,
I may be an old-fashioned Ostrich,

" And I may not know how to work banners,
But I have been instructed in manners;
I will wish you good-day,
But first let me say-
(You might work it on some of your banners)-

"There is something still older than cross-stitch"-
And you just should have seen the fine frost which.
She put 'in her manner-
"'T is worthy a banner:
It is courtesy, ma'am," said the Ostrich.



I' V,..U 'I! 1-.lrd,:,r, l h n _li _.-
A 0,: l it ,,k' *c r .,l l -- .




PAINTING was practiced in Egypt 3000 years
before the birth of Christ. But Egypt lost her
place among the great powers of the world, and
her art declined and died.
When, therefore, in these days, we speak of the
origin of painting or of sculpture, we mean that of
classic art,-or European art, which is traced back
to the Greeks,-and there are many interesting
stories told of the ancient artists.


THIS celebrated painter was a native of Heracleia,
and flourished in the last part of the fifth century
before Christ. He traveled much in Greece, and
probably visited Sicily.
He belonged to the Ephesian school of painting,
which was characterized by its perfect imitation of
the objects represented, and its reproduction of per-
sonal beauty in its subjects.
The most celebrated work by Zeuxis was a
picture of Helen, painted for the temple of Juno at
Croton. In order to make this a representation of
the highest excellence of personal beauty in woman,
five of the most lovely virgins were chosen as models
for the picture, so that the painter might select the
most beautiful features of face and form among the
five, and thus in his one figure give a high average
of feminine personal beauty. This picture was
much praised by Cicero and other ancient writers,
and Zeuxis himself declared not only that it was
his masterpiece, but that it could not be surpassed
by any other artist.
The painter received a large sum for this work,
and, before it was dedicated in the temple, he placed
it on exhibition, and from the admission fees made
a great gain. Zeuxis was vain, not only of his
talent, but of his wealth, of which he made much
display; at times he wore a rich robe, on which
his own name was embroidered in letters of gold.
This artist was a rival of another great painter,
Parrhasius, and on one occasion these two men
engaged in a trial of skill, in order to determine
which one could most perfectly imitate inanimate
objects. Zeuxis painted a bunch of grapes so per-
fectly that when it was publicly exposed the birds
tried to peck them; the painter was more than
satisfied with this testimony to his power, and con-
fidently demanded of Parrhasius that he should
draw aside the curtain which concealed his picture.
It proved that the vain artist had been himself

deceived, since the curtain was a painted one, and
not a piece of stuff, as it had appeared to be.
Zeuxis admitted his defeat, and generously pointed
out that he had only deceived birds, while Parr-
hasius had deceived an artist.
Another time, Zeuxis painted a boy carrying
grapes, and when the birds flew at them, the
painter was very angry, saying, I have painted
the grapes better than the boy; for had I made
him perfectly like life, the birds would have been
frightened away."
Zeuxis also excelled in dramatic subjects, and
executed many remarkable works. When Aga-
tharcus, a scene-painter, boasted of his celerity in
his work, Zeuxis replied: "I confess that I take a
long time to paint; for I paint works to last a long

THIS painter was born about 360 B. c., and
lived at Sicyon. He is famous as being the first
artist who used encaustic painting for the decora-
tion of the ceilings and walls of houses. (Encaustic
painting is any kind of painting in which heat is
used to fix the colors;-thus, china-ware, tiles,
faience, and many sorts of pottery are illustrations
of encaustic painting.) Before his time this paint-
ing had only been employed for representing the
stars on the ceilings of temples ; but the special kind
used by Pausias was done in heated or burnt wax,
and was employed for just such interior decoration
as that which we now distinguish by the general
name of fresco painting.
The most celebrated works of Pausias represented
the Sacrifice of an Ox," a Cupid with a Lyre,"
and Methe, or Drunkenness," drinking out of a
glass goblet through which her face was seen;
this was a remarkable effect.
Pausias loved Glycera, a lovely young garland-
twiner, and he so studied her and her flowers that
he became very skillful in representing them on
canvas, and won great fame as a flower-painter. A
portrait which he made of Glycera was mentioned
and praised by several ancient writers.
Lucius Lucullus bought at Athens a copy of this
picture, for which he paid the large sum of two
talents, or twenty-three hundred and sixty dollars.


APELLES was the most distinguished of all the
Greek painters. He lived from about 352 to 308




before Christ. This artist spent the main portion
of his life at the court of Alexander the Great, and
executed his greatest works for that monarch.


His picture of the Venus Anadyomene (which
means, Venus rising out of the sea) was his most
famous work. In it the goddess was wringing her
hair, and the silvery drops fell around her in such a
way as to throw a transparent veil before her form.
This picture was painted originally for the temple
of }Esculapius, at Cos, which city has been called
the birthplace of Apelles; Augustus carried this
great work to Rome, and placed it in the temple
which he dedicated to Julius Caesar. After a time
it fell into complete decay, and during the reign of
Nero a copy was made of it by Dorotheus.
Apelles painted many allegorical pictures, such
as representations of ".Slander," "Thunder,"
"Lightning," and "Victory "; but it is probable
that after the celebrated "Venus," some of his por-
traits of Alexander were his best works. Of one of
these pictures the King said: There are two
Alexanders; one is the son of Philip, who is uncon-
querable; the second, the picture by Apelles, which
is inimitable."
In spite of the great perfection to which Apelles
carried his art, he never relinquished his studies,
and was careful to use his pencil every day. From
him came the maxim, "Nulla dies sine linea" ;
"No day without a line,"-or, "No day without
something accomplished."
Apelles also made improvements in the mechani-

cal part of his art. From what is now positively
known, his principal discovery was the use of var-
nish, or what is now called glazing or toning; but
other discoveries are attributed to him.
That the character of Apelles was noble and
attractive is shown by the fact that, although
Ptolemy had formed an opinion of the artist which
was not in his favor, yet when Apelles was driven
by a storm to Alexandria, and the sovereign was
brought into contact with the artist, their relations
became those of true friendship; and though the
enemies of Apelles endeavored to ruin him with
Ptolemy, their schemes were fruitless.
Apelles treated other artists with great gener-
osity, and was the means of bringing the works of
Protogenes, of Rhodes, into the favor they merited.
He did this by going to Rhodes, and buying pict-
ures of Protogenes, for which he paid high prices,
declaring that they were worthy to be sold as his own
work. Apelles said that he himself was excelled
by Amphion in grouping, and by Asclepiodorus in
perspective, but that he claimed grace as his own
peculiar gift, in which he excelled all others. He
also blamed Protogenes for finishing his works too
much, and asserted that he himself knew "where
to take his hand from his work."
One of the peculiarities of Apelles was, that when
he had finished a picture he exhibited it in a public
place, and concealed himself where he could hear
what was said of it. On one occasion a cobbler
criticised the shoes of a figure; the next day the
correction he had suggested was made. Then the
cobbler proceeded to find fault with the legs, when
Apelles rushed out in a tury, and commanded the
cobbler to speak only of such things as he knew
about. From this circumstance came the.proverb:
" Ne supra crepidam sutor," which means, "Let
not the shoe-maker go beyond his last"; but is
more generally given, "Let every man stick to his

THIS Rhodian artist became very famous, for,
after the praise of Apelles, others were roused to
the appreciation of the great artist who had been
content to do his best, and was too modest to assert
himself. His most celebrated work was the pict-
ure of Ialysus, a mythical hero, grandson of the god
Apollo, and a special patron and guardian of the
island of Rhodes. The artist represented him
either as hunting or as returning from the chase.
Some of the ancient writers relate that Protogenes
spent seven, or even eleven, years. on this picture.
Pliny says that the artist became discouraged in
his attempt to paint, to his liking, the foam at the
mouth of a tired hound; finally, in his impatience,
he threw a sponge, with which he had repeatedly




washed off his colors, at the offending spot, and the
very effect he wished was thus produced.
This great work was doubtless dedicated in the
temple of Ialysus, at Rhodes; and when Demetrius
Poliorcetes besieged that city, he was careful to
spare this temple for the sake of the picture of
Protogeies. Demetrius also showed marked per-
sonal attentions to the painter, who lived in a
cottage outside the walls of the city, and quietly
continued his work in the midst of the siege.
When Demetrius demanded of him how he dared
to remain in so exposed a position, Protogenes
answered: I know that you are at war with the
Rhodians, but not with the arts." Upon this reply,
Demetrius stationed a guard about the cottage, and
the painter worked quietly on, amidst the din of
war which raged all about him.
The Ialysus was carried to Rome in later times,
and placed in the temple of Peace.
Another remarkable picture by Protogenes was
the representation of a satyr leaning against a
column. The painter bestowed great pains upon
the figure of the satyr, and considered it the best

it as if it were alive. This amused and delighted
the populace, but it was so disagreeable to Pro-


part of the work; but on the column he painted a
partridge, which was so true to nature that much
attention was given to it,-even the bird-sellers
brought tame partridges to the picture, and when
the living birds saw the painted one they chirped to

(SEE PAGE 192.)

togenes that he painted over the bird, in order that
men might see the satyr.


THIS artist is sometimes said to have lived in the
time of Alexander; but Lucian, who gave an
account of him, distinctly declares that he lived in
the time of Hadrian and the Antonines.
He painted a wonderful picture of the Nuptials
of Alexander and Roxana," with Erotes or Cupids
busy about them, and with the armor of the king.
When this work was exhibited at the Olympic
games, one of the judges-Proxenidas-exclaimed:
" I reserve crowns for the heads of the athlete, but
I give my daughter in marriage to the painter
Action, as a recompense for his inimitable paint-
ing." Later, this picture was carried to Rome,
and it has been said that Raphael sketched one of
his finest compositions from it. The chief excel-
lence of this painter was in his mode of mixing and
laying on of colors.


ABOUT twenty-five hundred years ago, there lived
at Sicyon, in Greece, a modeler in clay, whose




name was Dibutades. He had a daughter who is
called by two names, Kora and Callirhoe. This
young girl could not assist her father much, but
she went each day to the flower-market, and

dear to her. It was an inspiration on the part of
the girl, and so correct was the likeness that when
Dibutades saw it he instantly knew whom it repre-
sented. Then he wished to do his part, for he


brought home flowers which she put in vases in
the little shop, to make it pleasant for the modeler,
and attractive to his customers. Kora was very
beautiful, and as she went out, with her veil about
her, the young Greeks of Sicyon caught glimpses
of her face which made them wish to see her again,
and thus many of them visited the artist Dibutades.
One of these young men at length asked the
modeler to receive him as an apprentice; his
request was granted, and by this means the young
Greek made one of the family of the artist. The
three lived a life of simple happiness; the young
man could play upon the reed, and had much
knowledge which fitted him to be the teacher of the
lovely Kora. After a time, for some reason that
we know not, it was best for him to go away, and
he then asked Kora to promise that she would be
his wife. Vows of betrothal were exchanged, and
they were very sad at the thought of parting.
The last evening, as they sat together, Kora sud-
denly seized a coal from the brazier, and traced
upon the wall the outline of the face which was so

loved the young man also; so he brought his clay,
and from the outline which Kora had made he
filled in a portrait in bass-relief, the first that was
ever made. Thus the love of Kora had originated
a great art.
After this time, Dibutades perfected himself in
the making of medallions and busts, and decorated
many beautiful Grecian buildings with his work.
He also founded a school for modeling at Sicyon,
and became so famous that several Greek cities
claimed the honor of having been his birthplace.
The first bass-relief, made from Kora's outline,
was preserved in the Nymphaeum at Corinth about
two centuries, after which it was destroyed by fire.
Kora's lover became her husband, and a famous
artist at Corinth.

ALTHOUGH the Egyptians were great sculptors,
as some of their remaining works show, and though
the Lions of Nineveh attest the skill of the Assyr-
ians, yet the sculpture of the Greeks is that which




is most admired by all the world. Of all Greek
sculptors Phidias is the most famous. He was the
son of Charmides, and was born at Athens about
500 B. C., and became very prominent in the time
when Pericles was sole ruler at Athens. Phidias
was made overseer of all the public works, which
then was a very important office, because all the
temples and buildings which had been destroyed
by the Persians were restored. Many of these
great works were done by other celebrated archi-
tects and sculptors under the direction of Phidias,
but he made himself the very remarkable statue of
Athena or Minerva, which was placed in the larger
chamber of the temple of that goddess, called the
It was of the kind of work which is called chrys-
elehfantine, said to have been invented by Phidias.
The foundation of the statue was of wood, which
was covered with ivory and gold; the ivory was
used for the flesh parts of the statue, and the gold
for the draperies and ornaments.
Athena, or Minerva, was the goddess of wisdom

serpents, and had a golden head of Medusa in the
center; the lower end of the spear rested on a
dragon; the shield was embossed on both sides
with representations of Athenian legends, and even
the base upon which the statue stood was wrought
in relief with many gods and goddesses and other
figures upon it.
Phidias wished to put his name on his work, but
not being allowed to do so, he accomplished his
purpose by making his own portrait in one of the
figures upon the shield.
Many other works by Phidias were in and upon
the Parthenon, and some of these are now in the
British Museum in London, and are known as the
Elgin marbles, from the fact that they were carried
'to England by the Earl of Elgin.
After the completion of the Minerva, Phidias
went to Elis, where he made the wonderful statue
of the Olympian Jupiter, for the great temple of
that god in the Altis, or sacred grove, at Olympia.
This represented the god as seated on a throne,
holding in his right hand a statue of victory, and


and of war, and this -statue represented her as vic-
torious. It was nearly forty feet high, including
the base; the different parts were very much orna-
mented; the crest of the helmet was formed like a
sphinx, and had griffins on each side; the coat
of mail, or upper garment, was fringed with golden

supporting a scepter, surmounted with an eagle,
with his left hand. A curtain concealed this statue,
except on great festival days, when it was exposed
to full view. The decorations and ornaments upon
every part of the figure, and upon the throne, were
wonderful in their design and execution; there were




hundreds of figures of gods, youths, dancing-girls,
and animals, and flowers in great numbers.
When the statue was completed, the sculptor
prayed to Jupiter for a sign in approbation of his
work, and it is said that the pavement close by was
struck by lightning. As an honor to Phidias, his
descendants were given the office of caring for this
statue and cleaning it. A building outside of the
Altis, where he had worked, was also preserved,
and called the work-shop of Phidias. His name
was inscribed at the feet of this statue.
Jupiter was the highest of all the gods of myth-
ology, and Phidias represented him according to
a description which Homer had written, and which,
as translated by Alexander Pope, reads:

"He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows,
Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god;
High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,
And all Olympus to the center shook."

The head given on page i88 is from a feeble copy
of the original, executed in the Roman period, but
it gives an idea of the original.
Among the pupils of Phidias was Alcamenes, a
distinguished sculptor. It is said that he contended
with Phidias in making a statue of Minerva, to be
placed on a very high column at Athens. When
the two works were completed and exhibited, that
of the pupil received the first praise, because it was
highly finished, while that of the master seemed
coarse and rough. But Phidias demanded that
they should be raised to the intended height, when
it was found that the statue of Alcamenes lost its
effect, and that of Phidias proved all that could be
Alcamenes, like Phidias, was a sculptor of the
gods, and it is thought that a statue of Juno,
which was found in a temple between Athens and
Phaleros, was his work; the head of Juno given
on page 189 is probably a part of the statue found
in this temple.
When Phidias returned from Elis to Athens, he
found that his friend and master, Pericles, had
fallen into bad repute through the jealousy of his
enemies. This jealousy was extended to Phidias,
and he was accused of having stolen a part of the
gold which had been furnished him for making the
statue of Minerva. As the plates of gold were so
arranged that they could be removed from the
statue, they were weighed, and Phidias was cleared
from all suspicion of dishonesty. His accusers next
brought a charge of impiety, because he had intro-
duced his own portrait on the shield; upon this
charge he was thrown into prison, where he died,

some writers say from disease, while others declare
that he was poisoned. His death occurred about
432 B. c.
It is not possible to say positively that any work executed by the
hand of Phidias exists; but the marbles known as the Elgin mar-
bles," in the British Museum, are certainly works executed under
his eye, if not by his hand, and some authorities do not hesitate to
consider them his work. These marbles consist of single figures and
groups which formed portions of the outside decorations of the Par-
thenon, of which temple Phidias was the chief architect, and all its
ornaments were subject to his approval. They derive their present
name from the fact that the Earl of Elgin brought them from Athens
to England. These sculptures may be considered as equal, or indeed
superior, to any now existing, and they belong to the time when
sculpture had reached its very highest point.


THIS sculptor was born at Eleutherae, about 430
B. C., but is spoken of as an Athenian because his
native city belonged to the Athenian franchise or
district, and because his most celebrated work-
the statue of a cow-stood in the midst of the
largest open space in Athens, and his fame was
thus connected with that city. This cow was rep-
resented as lowing, and was elevated upon a marble
base; it is praised by many writers, and no less
than thirty-six epigrams were written upon it, and
these have all been collected by Sontag and are in
the Unterhaltungen fiir Freunde der alten Liter-
atur," or "Entertainments for the Friends of
Ancient Literature." In later times the cow was
removed to Rome, and placed in the Temple of
The second most famous work of Myron was
the "Discobolus," or the disk or quoit thrower.
The original statue exists no longer, but there are
several copies of it. That from which the picture
on page 189 was made was found on the Esquiline
Hill at Rome in A. D. 1782, and was placed in the
Villa Massini.
This statue shows forth the sculptor's most strik-
ing characteristic, which was to represent figures
in excited action, at the very moment of some
great effort of strength or skill. This is a very
difficult thing to do, since no model could con-
stantly repeat such acts; and, if that were possible,
there is but a flash of time in which the artist can
see what he is trying to reproduce, and yet this
figure is so life-like that it seems, when one looks
at it, as if it would be safer to stand so that the
quoit shall not hit him as it flies.

Besides the Discobolus, there are several other works attributed
to Myron; they are: a copy in marble of his statue of Marsyas, in
the Lateran at Rome; a torso, restored as a son of Niobe, in the
gallery at Florence; the torso of an Endymion, in same gallery; a
figure restored and called Diomed; and a bronze in the gallery at







B ARI n',..J ....i._ rh, j ..-i -l:.: r,
G lh.,civy ,l ,i [ -li', :" ,--n :
H ung .. i r ..li.ir -,. h. r. ,,1 -. :.
D rap-ir, a_ ,.:i. a,,: r m .
R attkl:.e 1: ..l tli :.1' :- .::-i ,- r .: .:n. l ..r
Bleik th. r -ht-: i r .-: .n ! -
In th.- r u--- .i ..i : ,nliV .
Tolled dhe midnight bell.

Suddenly, from out the shadows
Of the old, deserted room,
Came a strain of faintest music
Through the ghostly gloom.
Fiercer howled the wind, and stronger
Swelled the strain, exultingly,
Till there rolled among the rafters
Waves of melody.

While the night grew still to listen,
Soft and slow the music sighed,
VOL. VIII.-13.

And, in melting. minor measures,
i r.. i.:n.:r ,h .l..
i il: -lll. .,pt musician,
in, trh I..r..:! .. ... t apart,
i!..: iii.,!-. .!..l rIih. somber midnight
il', !,,: . .l,.- l':-; art?

F r.,1.. thi- ri:,.:.. .. .. bright, now hidden
i, thl .:..ii.1: thi-! crossed her way,
Ii 1.,- 11 rih: i :r., arret-window

i- .::..l ,.i .1' r r:ient spinet,
''.-. h.:.-,: k--, w-. with dust defiled,

Ran the eager, dainty fingers
Of a little child !

Boy, in after years the master
Of all mighty harmonies,
With a more than childish rapture
In thy lifted eyes,-
Surely, in the garret chamber,
Dim with shadowy mystery,
While the world slept in the midnight,
Angels talked with thee!



(A Sequel to "The Floating Prince," in ST. NICHOLAS fo/ December, I88o.)


FOR many and many a day, the ship of the
admiral of the kingdom of Nassimia, containing
the admiral himself, the company of school-boys
who had been made aristocrats, the old school-
master, the four philosophers, and the old woman,
who was cook and navy, all in one, sailed and
sailed away.
The admiral sat on the stern, his long stilts dan-
gling in the water behind, as the ship sailed on.
He was happy, for this was just what he liked; and
the four philosophers and the old master and the
navy were happy; but the aristocrats gradually
became very discontented. They did not want
to sail so much ; they wanted to go somewhere,
and see something. The ship had stopped sev-
eral times at towns on the coast, and the boys
had gone on shore, but, in every case, the leading
people of the town had come to the admiral, bear-
ing rich presents, and begging him to sail away in
the night. So it happened that the lively young
aristocrats had been on land very little, since they
started on their travels.
Finding, at last, that the admiral had no inten-
tion of landing again, the aristocrats determined to
rebel, and, under the leadership of the Tail-boy,
who was the poorest scholar among them, but first
in all mischief, they formed a plan to take posses-
sion of the ship.
Accordingly, one fine afternoon, as the admiral,
the master, and the four philosophers were sitting
on the deck of the vessel, enjoying the breeze, six
aristocrats, each carrying a bag, slipped quietly
up behind them, and, in an instant, a bag was
clapped over the head of each man. It was in vain
to kick and struggle. The other aristocrats rushed
up, the bags were tied securely around the necks
of the victims, their hands and feet were bound, and
they were seated in a row at the stern of the ship,
the admiral's stilts lying along the deck. The
Tail-boy then took a pair of scissors and cut a hole
in each bag, opposite the mouth of its wearer, so
that he could breathe. The six unfortunate meni
were now informed that if they behaved well they
should be treated well, and that, on the next day,
a hole should be cut in each of their bags, so that
they could see with one eye; on the next day, a
hole for one ear; on the next, a hole for the nose;
and if they still behaved well, holes should be cut
on the two succeeding days for the other ears and

eyes. The smartest boy of the school had said, when
this arrangement was proposed, that by the time
they got this far, they might as well take off the
bags, but the rest of the aristocrats did not think
so; a prisoner whose head was even partly bagged
was more secure than one not bagged at all.
The admiral and his companions could think of
nothing to do but to agree to these terms, and so.
they agreed, hoping that, by some happy chance,
they would soon be released. It was suggested by a
few aristocrats that it would be well to bring up the
navy and bag her head also, but the majority de-
cided that she was needed to do the cooking, and
so she was shut down below, and ordered to cook
away as hard as she could.
The prisoners were plentifully fed, at meal-times,
by their captors, who put the food through the
mouth-holes of their bags. At first, the aristocrats.
found this to be such fun that the poor men could
scarcely prevent themselves from being overfed.
At night, cushions were brought for them to lie
upon, and a rope was fastened to the ends of the
admiral's stilts, which were hoisted up into the rig-
ging, so as to be out of the way.
The aristocrats now did just as they pleased.
They steered in the direction in which they sup-
posed the coast should lie, and, as they were sailing
on, they gave themselves up to all manner of
amusements. Among other things, they found a
number of pots of paints stowed away in the vessel's.
hold, and with these they set to work to decorate
the vessel.
They painted the masts crimson, the sails in
stripes of pink and blue, the deck light green,
spotted with yellow stars, and nearly everything-
on board shone in some lively color. The ad-
miral's sheep were adorned with bands of green,
yellow, and crimson, and his stilts were painted
bright blue, with a corkscrew red line running
around them. Indeed, the smell of paint soon be-
came so strong, that three of the philosophers
requested that the nose-holes in their bags should
be sewed up.
There is no knowing what other strange things.
these aristocrats would have done, had they not, on
the fourth day of their rule on the vessel, perceived
they were in sight of land, and of what seemed to,
be a large city on the coast. Instantly, the vessel
was steered straight for the city, which they soon





reached. The ship was made fast, and every aris-
tocrat went on shore. The cook was locked below,
and the admiral and his companions were told to
sit still and be good until the boys should return.
Each of the prisoners now had holes in his bag
for his mouth, his nose, one eye, and an ear, but as
the eye-holes were all on the side toward the
water, the poor men could not see much that was
going on. They twisted themselves around, how-
ever, as well as they could, and so got an occasional
glimpse of the shore.


The aristocrats swarmed up into the city, but
although it was nearly midday, not a living soul
did they meet. The buildings were large and
handsome, and the streets were wide and well laid
out; there were temples and palaces and splendid
edifices of various kinds, but every door and shutter
and gate of every house was closely shut, and not
a person could be seen, nor a sound heard.
The silence and loneliness of the place quieted
the spirits of the aristocrats, and they now walked
slowly and kept together.
"What does it all mean?" said one. "Is the
place bewitched, or has everybody gone out of

town and taken along the dogs, and the birds, and
the flies, and every living thing?"
"We might go back after one of the philoso-
phers," said another. He could tell us all about
I don't believe he 'd know any more than we
do," said the Tail-boy, who had now forced his
way to the front. Let us go ahead, and find out
for ourselves."
So they walked on until they came to a splendid
edifice, which looked like a palace, and, much to
their surprise, the great doors stood wide open.
After a little hesitation, they went up the steps and
peeped in. Seeing no one, they cautiously entered.
Everything was grand and gorgeous within, and
they gradually penetrated to a large hall, at one
end of which they saw a wide stair-way, carpeted
with the richest tapestry.
Reaching this, they concluded to go up and see
what they could find upstairs. But as no one
wished to be the first in such a bold proceeding,
they went in a solid body. The stair-way was
very wide, so that twelve boys could go up,
abreast, and they thus filled three of the stairs,
with several little boys on the next stair below.
On they went, up, up, and up, keeping step
together. There was a landing above them, but it
seemed to be farther up than they had supposed.
Some of the little aristocrats complained of being
tired; but as they did not wish to be left behind,
they kept on.
Look here," said one of the front row; "do
you see that window up there? Well, we're not
any nearer to it now than we were when we
That's true," said another, and then the
Smart-boy spoke up:
I '11 tell you what it is. We 're not going up
at all. These stairs are turning around and around,
as we step on them. It 's a kind of a tread-mill!"
"Let 's stop!" cried some of the boys; but
others exclaimed, "Oh, no Don't do that, or we
shall be ground up! "
Oh, please don't stop cried the little fellows
below, forgetting their tired legs, or we shall be
ground up first."
So on they kept, stepping up and up, but never
advancing, while some of them tried to devise
some plan by which they all could turn around
and jump off at the same instant. But this would
be difficult and dangerous, and those little fellows
would certainly be crushed by the others if they
were not ground up by the stairs.
Around and around went the stairs, each step
disappearing under the floor beneath, and appear-
ing again above them; while the boys stepped up
and up, wondering if the thing would ever stop.



They were silent now, and they could hear a
steady click, click, click, as the great stair-way went
slowly around.
"Oh, I '11 tell you!" suddenly exclaimed the
Smart-boy. "We're winding it up !"
"Winding up what?" cried several of the
"Everything!" said the Smart-boy; "we're
winding up the city !"
This was true. Directly, sounds were heard
outside; a dog barked; some cocks crew, and
windows and doors were heard to open. The boys
trembled, and forgot their weariness, as they
stepped up and up. Some voices were heard below,
and then, with a sudden jar, the stairs stopped.
She 's wound !" said the Smart-boy, under his
breath, and every aristocrat turned around and
hurried off the stairs.
What a change had taken place in everything !
From without, came the noise and bustle of a great
city, and, within, doors were opening, curtains
were being pulled aside, and people were running
here, there, and everywhere. The boys huddled
together in a corner of the hall. Nobody seemed
to notice them.
Suddenly, a great gilded door, directly opposite
to them, was thrown wide open, and a king and
queen came forth. The king glanced around,
Hello!" he cried, as his eyes fell upon the
cluster of frightened aristocrats. I believe it is
those boys! Look here," said he, advancing,
"did you boys wind us up?"
"Yes, sir," said the Head-boy, I think we did.
But we did n't mean to. If you 'd let us off this
time, we 'd never --"
"Let you off!" cried the king. "Not until
we 've made you the happiest boys on earth Do
you suppose we 're angry ? Never such a mistake !
What do you think of that?" he said, turning to
the queen.
This royal lady, who was very fat, made no
answer, but smiled, good-humoredly.
"You 're our greatest benefactors," continued
the king. I don't know what we can do for you.
You did n't imagine, perhaps, that you were wind-
ing us up. Few people, besides ourselves, know
how things are with us. This city goes all right
for ten years, and then it runs down, and has to
be wound up. When we feel we have nearly run
down, we go into our houses and apartments, and
shut up everything tight and strong. Only this
hall is left open, so that somebody can come in,
and wind us up. It takes a good many people to
do it, and I 'm glad there were so many of you.
Once we were wound up by a lot of bears, who
wandered in and tried to go upstairs. But they

did n't half do it, and we only ran four years. The
city has been still-like a clock with its works
stopped-for as long as a hundred years at once.
I don't know how long it was this time. I 'm
going to have it calculated. How did you happen
to get here?"
The boys then told how they had come in a
ship, with the admiral, their master, and four
"And the ship is here!" cried the king.
" Run !" he shouted to his attendants, and bring
hither those worthy men, that they may share in
the honor and rewards of their pupils."
While the attendants were gone, the aristocrats
waited in the hall, and the king went away to
attend to other matters. The queen sat down on a
sofa near by.
It tires me dreadfully to smile," she said, as
she wiped her brow; "but I have to take some
"I hope they wont bring 'em here, bags and
all," whispered the Tail-boy. It would look funny,
but I should n't like it."
In a short time the king came back in a hurry.
"How 's this ?" he cried. My messengers tell
me that there 's no ship at our piers excepting our
own vessels. Have you deceived me? "
The aristocrats gazed at each other in dismay.
Had their ship sailed away and left them? If so,
they had only been served aright. They looked so
downcast and guilty that the king knew something
was wrong.
"What have you done? said he.
The Head-boy saw that there was no help for it,
and he told all.
Ty king looked sad, but the queen smiled two
or thtee times.
And you put their heads in bags ? said the
"Yes, sir," replied the Head-boy.
"Well, well!" said the king; "I am sorry.
After all you have done for us, too. I will send out
a swift cruiser after that ship, which will be easy to
find if it is painted as you say, and, until it is
brought back to the city, I must keep you in cus-
tody. Look you," said he to his attendants; "take
these young people to a luxurious apartment, and
see that they are well fed and cared for, and also
be very careful that none of them escape."
Thereupon, the aristocrats were taken away to
an inner chamber of the palace.
When the admiral and his companions had been
left on board the vessel, they felt very uneasy, for
they did not know what might happen to them
next. In a short time, however, when the voices
of the aristocrats had died away as they proceeded
into the city, the admiral perceived the point of a





gimlet coming up through the deck, close to him.
Then the gimlet was withdrawn, and these words
came up through the hole:
Have no fear. Your navy will stand by you !"
It will be all right," said the admiral to the
others. I can depend upon her."
And now was heard a noise of banging and
chopping, and soon the cook cut her way from her
imprisonment below, and made her appearance on
deck. She went to work vigorously, and, taking
the bags from the prisoners' heads, unbound them,
and set them at liberty. Then she gave them a
piece of advice.
The thing for us to do," said she, is to get


away from here as fast as we can. If those young
rascals come back, there's no known' what they '11
Do you mean," said the master, that we should
sail away and desert my scholars ? Who can tell
what might happen to them, left here by them-
selves ? "
"We should not consider what might happen to
them if they were left," said one of the philosophers,
"but what might happen to us if they were not
left. We must away."
"Certainly!" cried the admiral. "While I
have the soul of the commander of the navy of
Nassimia left within me, I will not stay here to
have my head put in a bag! Never! Set sail!"

It was not easy to set sail, for the cook and the
philosophers were not very good at that sort of
work; but they got the sail up at last, and cast
loose from shore, first landing the old master, who
positively refused to desert his scholars. The
admiral took the helm, and, the wind being fair,
the ship sailed away.
The swift cruiser, which was sent in the direction
taken by the admiral's vessel, passed her in the
night, and as she was a very fast cruiser, and it was
therefore impossible for the admiral's ship to catch
up with her, the two vessels never met.
"Now, then," said the admiral the next day, as
he sat with the helm in his hand, "-we are free


again to sail where we please. But I do not like to
sail without an object. What shall be our object?"
The philosophers immediately declared that
nothing could be more proper than that they should
take a voyage to make some great scientific dis-
"All right," said the admiral. That suits me.
What discovery shall we make ? "
The philosophers were not prepared to answer
this question at that moment, but they said they
would try to think of some good discovery to make.
So the philosophers sat in a row behind the
admiral, and thought and thought; and the
admiral sat at the helm, with his blue-and-red stilts
dangling in the water behind; and the cook pre-



pared the meals, swept the deck, dusted the sail,
and put things in order.
After several hours, the admiral turned around
to ask the philosophers if they had thought of
any discovery yet, when, to his amazement, he
saw that each one of them had put his bag upon
his head.
What did you do that for ?" cried the admiral,
and each of the philosophers gave a little jump; and
then they explained that it was much easier to think

I r


', I
i F


with one's head in a bag. The outer world was
thus shut out, and trains of thought were not so
likely to be broken up.
So, for day after day, the philosophers, with their
heads in their bags, sat, and thought, and thought;
and the admiral sat and steered, and the navy
cooked and dusted and kept things clean. Some-
times, when she thought the sail did not catch the

wind properly, she would move the admiral toward
one side or the other, and thus change the course
of the vessel.
"If I knew," said the admiral one day, "the
exact age of the youngest of those aristocrats, I
should know just how long we should have to sail,
before they would all be grown up; when it would
be time for us to go back after them, and take them
to Nassimia."
The cook remembered that the smallest boy had
told her he was ten years old.
"Then," said the admiral, "we must sail for
eleven years."
And they sailed for eleven years; the philoso-
phers, with their heads in their bags, trying their
best to think of some good thing to discover.
The day after the aristocrats had been shut up in
their luxurious apartment, the queen sent a mes-
senger to them, to tell them that she thought the
idea of putting people's heads in bags was one of
the most amusing things she ever heard of, and that
she would be much obliged if they would send her
the pattern of the proper kind of bag, so that she
could have some made for her slaves.
The messenger brought scissors, and papers, and
pins, and the boys cut a pattern of a very comfortable
bag, with holes for the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears,
which they sent with their respects to the queen.
This royal lady had two bags made, which she put
upon two of her servants, and their appearance
amused her so much that she smiled a great deal,
and yet scarcely felt tired at all.
But, in the course of a day or two, the king
happened to see these bag-headed slaves sitting in
an ante-chamber. He was struck with consterna-
tion, and instantly called a council of his chief
"We are threatened with a terrible danger," he
said to them, when all the doors were shut. "We
have among us a body of Bagists Little did we
think, in our gratitude, that we were wound up
merely that we might go through life with our
heads bagged! Better far that we should stay
stopped forever! How can we know but that the ship
which brought them here may soon return, with
a cargo of bag-stuffs, needles, thread, and thimbles,
and that every head in our city may be bagged in
a few days? Already, signs of this approaching
evil have shown themselves. Notwithstanding the
fact that these dangerous characters have been closely
confined, no less than two of the inmates of my
palace have already had their heads bagged !"
At these words, a thrill of horror pervaded the
ministers, and they discussed the matter for a long
time. It was finally decided that a lookout should
be constantly kept on the top of a high tower, to
give notice of the approach of the ship, should she




return; additional guards were posted at the door
'of the aristocrats' apartment, and it was ordered
that the city be searched every day, to see if any
new cases of bagism could be discovered.
The aristocrats now began to be very discon-
tented. Although they had everything they could
possibly want to eat and drink, and were even
furnished with toys and other sources of amuse-
ment, they did not like to be shut up.
I '11 tell you what it is," said the Tail-boy. I
can't stand this any longer. Let 's get away."
But where shall we get away to? asked several
'of the others.
"We '11 see about that when we 're outside," was
the answer. Anything 's better than being shut
up here."
After some talk, everybody agreed that they
'ought to try to escape, and they set about to devise
some plan for doing so. The windows were not
very high from the ground, but they were too high
for a jump, and not a thing could be found in the
room. which was strong enough to make a rope.
Every piece of silk or muslin in the curtains or
bed-clothes was fine, and delicate, and flimsy. At
last, the Smart-boy hit upon a plan. The apart-
ment was a very long one, and was floored with
narrow boards, of costly wood, which ran from one
end to the other of it. He proposed that they
should take up one of these boards, and, putting it
out of the window, should rest one end on the
ground, and the other on the window-sill. Then
they could slide down.
Instantly, every aristocrat set to work, with knife,
or piece of tin, or small coin, to take out the silver
screws which held down one of the boards.
It is very narrow," said the Head-boy. I
am afraid we shall slip off."
Oh, there is no danger of that," replied the
Smart-boy. If we only go fast enough, we can-
not slip off. We will grease the board, and then
we shall go fast enough."
So the board was taken up, and, after having
been well greased with oil from the lamps, was put
out of the window.
Then the boys, one at a time, got on the board
and slid, with the speed of lightning, to the ground.
Most of them came down with such rapidity and
force that they shot over the smooth grass to a
considerable distance. As soon as they were all
down, the Smart-boy took the end of the board
and moved it to one side, .so that it rested on the
edge of a deep tank.
"Now, then," said he, "if any of the guards
slide down after us, they will go into the tank."
It was now nearly dark, and the boys set about
finding some place where they could spend the
night. They soon came to a large building, the

doors of which were shut, but, as they were not
locked, they had no trouble in entering. This
building was a public library, which was closed
very early every afternoon, and opened very late
every morning. Here the aristocrats found very
comfortable quarters, and having lighted a candle
which one of them had in his pockets, they held
a meeting, to determine what they should do
Of course the ship will come back, some day,"
said the Smart-boy, "for that admiral would be
afraid to go home without us. The giant would
smash him and his old ship if he did that. So
we shall have to wait here until the ship comes."
But how are we going to live?" asked several
of his companions.
"We can sleep here," he answered. "It's a
nice, big place, and nobody will ever disturb us,
for a notice on the door says it's closed two hours
before sunset. And as to victuals, we shall have
to work at something."
This was thought good reasoning, and they now
began to consider what they should work at. It
was agreed that it would be wise for them all to
select the same trade, because then they could
stand by each other in case of any business dis-
putes, and their trade was to be chosen in this way:
Every boy was to write on a piece of paper the
business he liked best, and whatever trade or pro-
fession was written on the most papers, was to be
adopted by the whole company.
When the papers were read by the Head-boy, it
was found that nearly every one had selected a dif-
ferent calling; but three of the smaller boys hap-
pened to want to be letter-carriers, and so, as there
was no business which had so many votes as this,
it was determined that they should all be letter-
The three little boys shouted for joy at this.
But where shall we get letters to carry ?" asked
some of the older fellows.
Oh, we '11 see about that in the morning," said
the Smart-boy. "There '11 be plenty of time
before the library opens."
They slept that night on piles of parchments,
and in.the morning the building was searched to
see if any letters could be found for them to carry.
In the cellar they discovered a great many huge
boxes, filled with manuscripts which had been col-
lecting ever since the city was first wound up and
started. These, they concluded, would do just as
well as letters, and each boy filled his satchel with
them, and started off to deliver them.
Each carrier was assigned by the Head-boy to
a different street, and all went to work with a will.
The people were glad to get the manuscripts, for
many of them were very instructive and interesting,




and they gave the boys a small piece of money for
each one. This went on, day after day, and every
morning each person in the whole city got a letter.
When the king was informed of the escape of his
prisoners, he hurried, in great trouble, to see how
they had got away. But when he saw the board
which theyhad left resting on the edge of the tank,
he was delighted.
Those wretched Bagists," he exclaimed, "in
trying to escape, have all slid into the tank. Let
it be walled over, and that will be the end of it.
We are fortunate to get rid of them so easily."

reading the old manuscripts, and sorting them out
for the carriers. Nobody ever came into the cellar
to disturb him.
The people of the city were very much benefited
by the instructive papers which were brought to
them every day, and many of them became quite
learned. The aristocrats also learned a great deal
by reading the papers to those persons who could
not read themselves, and, every evening, the mas-
ter gave them lessons in the library. So they
gradually became more and more educated.
They often looked up to the high tower, be-


,I, -- _ 7':i'.il u i; i I I
I| I'; l -l;j lln'_' ll.I=_. : lll.l.. 11 l*l~lll;. lll' l.l i L L l Illi [ Il I. .111;


But the watch on the high tower was still kept
up, for no one knew when the ship might come
back with more Bagists.
One day, as the Head-boy was delivering his
letters, he met an old man, whom he instantly
recognized as his master. At first, he felt like run-
ning away; but when the master told him that he
was alone, and forgave everything, they embraced
in tears. The old man had not been able to find
his boys in the town, and had wandered into the
surrounding country. In this way, he had never
had a letter.
The Head-boy took him to the library that
night, and he afterward spent most of his time

cause they had heard that a flag was to be hoisted
there whenever a ship with a pink-and-blue sail
was seen approaching the city.
Ten years passed, and they saw no flag, but
one day they saw, posted up all over the city, a
notice from the king, stating that, on the next day,
the city would run down, and ordering all the
people to retire into their houses, and to shut up
their doors and windows. This struck the aristo-
crats with dismay, for how were they to get a living
if they could not deliver their letters ?
So they all boldly marched to the palace, and,
asking for the king, proposed to him that they
should be allowed to wind up his city.





The king gaz
them in am
cc hnt

c rr n..i
v _r[u 1 1 ,, I ':, [l.
CS l.- iL : ic a. I tt
Soi' .1 -i b ll r :u.-

ed upon stair-way, twice as fa
azement. Click! click! click!
! h- for.- -nybody could
.J .. .,: rrne, the stair-w
..:.u 1- r- r ,.: .1- was wound u

-,'' r- ii . uld be useless
. P:-}' i, f -ilriide of the kin
4- _- T 1 *rs were loaded
'_-.-,-- Ir Irhey and their
lodged in tl
*." the pul

st as it had ever gone before.
went the machinery, and be-
really imagine that the thing
ay stopped with a bump, and
p for another ten years !
to try to describe the joy and
g and the people. The aris-
d with honors and presents;
old master were sumptuously
he palace, and, in their honor,
blic library was ordered to be

-- ...' aA

*: -y :.', J ..
', /^ ^ .'' -

1- .:. "., .,.i ll-iir~ I. ., i .:,- .- r

ab : ru ".. ,li r ,.u [:LI r.:.p-T ... .. ; '..' "'
"" .= ,- _--.'. it i tr.; r ,-I. ii ,.- :r
than we did it before," said one of the
younger aristocrats, "for some of us were very
small then, and did n't weigh much."
"Did it before?" exclaimed the bewildered
king, staring at the sturdy group before him.
The Head-boy, who was by this time en-
tirely grown up, now came forward, and,
acknowledging that he and his companions
were the boys who had been shut up in the
luxurious apartment, told their whole story since
their escape.
"And you have lived among us all this time,
and have not tried to bag our heads?" said the
"Not a bit of it," replied the other.
"I am very glad, indeed, to hear this," said the
king, "and now, if you please, I would like you
to try if you really can wind us up, for I feel that
I am running down very fast."
At this, the whole body of aristocrats ran to the


great stair-way, and began quickly to mount the
steps. Around and around went the revolving

N -.



kept open every evening, in order that the people
who were busy in the day-time might go there and
read the papers, which were no longer carried to.
At the end of a year, a flag was raised on the
top of the high tower, and the admiral's ship
came in. The philosophers took off their bags,
which were now very old and thin, and the aris-
tocrats, with their master, were warmly welcomed
on board. Being all grown up, they were no.
longer feared. In a few days, the ship sailed for
Nassimia, and, as the aristocrats were taking leave
of the sorrowing citizens, the Smart-boy stepped
up to the king, and said:
"I '11 tell you what I should do, if I were you.
About a week before the time you expect to run
down again, I 'd make a lot of men go to work
and wind up the city. You can do it yourselves,
just as well as to wait for other people to do it
for you."
"That's exactly what I '11 do!" cried the king.
"I never thought of it before !"
He did it, and, so far as is known, the city is
running yet.
When the aristocrats reached the city of Nas-
simia, everybody was glad to see them, for they
had become a fine, well-behaved, and well-educated
body of nobility, and the admiral, standing high
upon his stilts, looked down upon them with
honest pride, as he presented them to the king and
Lorilla shook each one of them by the hand.
They did not recognize the little fairy in this




handsome woman, but when she explained how many of the populace as could get near enough,
the change had taken place, they were delighted, crowded around to hear the story of the adventures
"To think of it!" cried one of the younger aris- of the aristocrats, which the Head-boy told very
tocrats. "We never missed that bottle-washer!" well.
"No," said Lorilla; "nobody ever missed her. "I should like very much to go to that curious
Thatis one reason why she was such a good one city," said Lorilla, "especially at a time when it
to be made a fairy. And now you must tell us had run down, and everything had stopped."
your whole story." "Oh, I don't believe it will ever stop any more,"
And so the king and the queen, the giant and cried the Tail-boy. "We told them how to keep
his army, the chancellor of the exchequer, and as themselves a-going all the time."





.? ''
s,.. 1~'".C ~.,. ~

(See Frontisfiece.)


MASTER CLINTON, Master Clinton and my golden-haired Adele,
Say what see you in the dancing flames to make you half so wise?
Sure the New Year bells a-ringing
Have such happiness been bringing
That the Christmas stars, still shining, seem reflected in your eyes,
In your glad and joyful eyes!"

Master Clinton answered quickly, glancing sideways toward Adele:
"We 've been telling dreadful stories about ghosts who dress in white;
Till at last a creepy feeling
Over both of us came stealing,
For we thought we almost saw them looking at us through the light,
Disappearing in the light."

Then I said: "0 Master Clinton and my golden-haired Adele,
Every heart may have its phantoms, have its ghosts and lovely elves;
But the ones who bring a blessing,
And the ones most worth possessing,
Only come and live with people who are lovely like themselves,
Good and lovely like themselves."





"MENITO is in there," said Mrs. Yegua, as we
entered her grounds, next morning, and she
pointed to a little log-house at the further end of
the corn-field; "he 's hid behind the door, and is
going to shut it as soon as they come. Yes, here
they are," said she, after a while; do you hear
them chatter? Now I have to go out and let them
see me; they wont go near the corn-crib till they
are sure that I am at the other end of the garden."
She hobbled out toward a thicket, of mango-
trees, where the troop of monkeys seemed to be
holding a council of war. They would mount a
stump at the edge of the grove, take a peep at the
corn-crib and jump down again, and chatter to one
another in an excited way; or congregate around
a short-tailed youngster that was sitting at the foot
of the stump, uttering a plaintive squeal every now
and then, as if he were impatient at the delay.

"They have seen me now," said Mrs. Yegua,
when she returned across the open field; that 's
what they have been waiting for all morning, may
be; I did n't notice them till I heard them chatter,
my eyes are so weak, you know."
The monkeys seemed to know it, too; a crowd
of mischievous boys could not have treated a
short-sighted policeman with more disrespect.
They followed her half-way up to the cottage,
flourishing their tails and making faces at her until
their leader, a big fat ceboo with a bushy tail,
wheeled and made straight for the cor-crib, as
much as to say: "Come on, boys; she's gone."
There were seven of them; and six, including
the bobtail baby, entered the crib at once, but the
fat leader squatted down on the threshold, just in
front of the door, where he could survey the field
as well as the interior of the crib. Five minutes
passed, and the gratified grunts of the marauders
showed that they were enjoying their breakfast.





"Why in the name of sense does n't Menito
shut that door?" asked Tommy; "he's missing
his best chance if he is waiting for that fat fellow
to go in!"
The leader seemed in no hurry to leave his post,
and looked almost as if he were going to fall asleep.
He was leaning against the door in a half-reclining
attitude, and began to stroke himself complacently,
perhaps feeling proud of having led so successful

a raid, when he suddenly received a kick that
sent him spinning to the middle of the road, and, a
second after, the door was shut with a loud bang.
The leader bolted into the next thicket with a
whoop of horror; the grunts of the lunch-party had
suddenly turned into a hubbub of confused screams,
and, even before we reached the crib, we could dis-
tinguish the piercing squeals of the little bobtail.
"Don't open the door cried Menito, when he
heard us coming; "they are trying to break out.

Quick Get me a forked stick, somebody; I have
to catch them before I can put them into the bag."
While Tommy ran to the stable to get a pitch-
fork or something, I peeped through a knot-hole,
and saw four middle-sized monos huddled together
in a corner, screaming, and crouching behind a big
female that tried to force her head through a crack
in the floor. The little bobtail was racing around
the crib with squeals of despair, but in the midst of
his agony he suddenly grabbed an ear of corn and
began to eat with furious dispatch, as if he were
r....:.1 ..1 I 1 .. one more square meal before his
.J4. .-',a :....., as we handed the forked stick
r:l-,:..- Ii.. .-loor, the general gallopade recom-
ri.-..:.: but Menito was too much for
Ii.i'. 'O'ne after the other he pinned them
.. ri- e ground, and five minutes later
hr, r6ve senior monos performed their
i- ,l.'cs in a tied-up bag, while the
S .btail youngster was crouching in a
corner with a long string around
his neck. Still, the little sinner
had not renounced all hopes,
for, when we entered the crib,
he jumped upon the widow's
S arm and pressed his face to her
S shoulder with a deprecatory
fllP~ chatter, as if he were pleading
Y V the most reasonable excuses.
i "Where are you going to
take them? asked Mrs. Yegua,
0, when we had caged the monos
S in our wire baskets.
S"To France," said Menito.
"This gentleman is going to
turn them over to the French
I "To France," mused the
old lady-" yes, I remember;
S that's where Maximilian used
S to send our prisoners. Well,
good-bye, then," said she,
shaking hands with the little
-- -bobtail, that had taken a back-
seat on Betsy's croup; good-
bye, my poor lads; I am sorry
Es. it has come to this, but it is
not my fault. I have warned you often enough."
The monkeys themselves did not seem to mind it
very much. They examined every cranny of their
wire prison, but soon found out that they were in
for it, and began to make themselves at home. The
foremost cage had not been strapped on very tight,
and, whenever it swung forward, one of the prison-
ers reached out and pulled the mule's ears; and it
took us a long while to identify the rogue, for, when
we turned around, they all sat quietly together in a




corner, looking as innocent as possible. Our dog
had stolen away for a still-hunt in the pine-woods,
and when he returned, it set the monkeys all agog,
and the little bobtail began to squeal. The others
answered him with a low chatter, and, finding that
talking was permitted, they soon jabbered away at
a lively rate, especially if they perceived anything
unusual at the road-side.
But, in the afternoon, when we reached the brink
of a wooded plateau, they all turned their heads
in the same direction, and the cackling suddenly
stopped. What could that be? From a valley on
our left came the echo of a curious sound, as if, far
away, a hundred dogs were barking together, or
joining now and then in a long-drawn howl.
Menito stopped the mule and faced about.
Listen !" said he; "do you hear those dogs?"
Dogs could not yell like that," replied Tommy;
it must be a panther."
"No, sir; the boy is right," said the guide.
That's a pack of perrones [wild dogs] hunting a
deer or a buffalo.: They are heading this way, it
The din came nearer and nearer, and, at the next
turn of the road, our dog dashed ahead as if he
had caught a glimpse of the game. At the same
time, we saw two horsemen galloping across the
road in the same direction. They had been herding
mules on the grassy plateau ahead of us, and had
put spurs to their horses when the noise reached
the lower end of the valley.
Let 's hurry up !" cried Menito. Let us find
out what's the matter and have some fun, may be."
"All right," said the guide; "but we have to
stop at that mulberry-wood down there. It's time
for dinner, and there 's a spring in that bottom-
the only good one I know in this neighborhood."
Before we left the road, we stopped and listened
intently, but the barking sounded more like a bay
now; the perrones must have surrounded their
game, or the horsemen had turned them back;
anyhow, the chase did not seem to come any
nearer, so we wended our way to the spring.
Oh, dear That's a cornexo-roost," said Men-
ito, when we approached the grove. "We sha'n't
get much rest there, I '11 warrant you."
"Why? What's the matter?"
You '11 soon find out. Look at those birds."
Cornexo is the Spanish word for a rook or jack-
daw, but in southern Mexico that name is applied
to a kind of bush-shrike, about the size and color
of a jay-bird, only that the blue of the wings is
much darker. A host of these birds had taken
possession of one of the mulberry trees, and began
to congregate in the tree-tops when they saw us
Now look out for a fuss," whispered Menito.

"You just leave them alone, and they wont
bother you," said the Indian. "Here we are;
look sharp now, boy, and help me get those baskets
There was a fine spring at the lower end of the
grove, and Black Betsy drank and drank till we
had to loosen her girth; but it puzzled us how
to water the monkeys without giving them a chance
to break out. At last, Menito solved the problem
by simply placing the lower end of the wire baskets
in the creek, so that the captives could help them-
selves without leaving their prison. While the
Indian got our dinner ready, I set the boys to
forage for grapes and ripe mulberries.
"Now I know what 's the trouble with those
birds," said Tommy; "they 've a nest in that
second tree there; look up here-you can see it
quite plainly."
"For goodness' sake, leave it alone," said Men-
ito. You 'II start the whole flock after you in a
"Well, what of that?" asked Tommy. You
are not afraid of birds, are you ? Just look at him:
that's the boy who told us he was born in the
Sierra de Jalisco, where people don't know what
fear is !"
Nor do I," said Menito; "but I know what a
cornexo is, and you don't, it seems."
"Then I 'm going to find it out right now," said
Tommy, and began to climb the tree.
When he got near the tree-top, the old nest-bird
flew up with a loud scream, and her cries soon
brought up a flock of cousins and aunts from every
tree, and before he reached the nest, the noise
became actually deafening.
"There are five young ones in here, nearly full-
grown," Tommy shouted down. "Shall I get
them, Uncle?"
"All right," I called out. "If they have their
eyes open, we '11 take them along for specimens.
Bring them down."
But that was easier said than done. Tommy
took out his handkerchief; but the moment he put
his hand upon the nest, the cornexos fell upon
him like a swarm of angry hornets, fluttered around
his face, dashed at his head from behind, clung to
his clothes, and pecked away at his legs, in spite
of his vigorous kicks.
Menito laughed till I thought he would choke.
"You 'd better ask their pardon, and come down,"
he called out.
Tommy made no reply, but wrapped up the
birds well, put the bundle in his bosom, and began
to climb down slowly with his knees and his right
hand, using his left to shield his face. When he
got back to the lower branches, the cornexos saw
us and left him one by one-all but the old hen-




bird, whose boldness seemed to increase, for she
pecked away at his ears, and at last dashed into
his face, left and right, as if she wished to get at his
eyes. Tommy then stopped a moment, and, when
she came the next time, received her with a slap
that sent her spinning through the air; but that
only made matters worse, for her chattering now
turned into piercing screams, and the whole swarm
joined in the chorus, till we could not help thinking
that we had paid too dear for our specimens.
Still, they were pretty fellows, with large yellow
beaks, and we made them a good comfortable home
in one of the smaller cages.
By and by, the Indian resaddled the mule, and
we were helping him to pack the dishes, when we
heard the little bobtail monkey squeal away with
all its might. Running toward the spring, we
caught sight of a long-legged, wolf-like animal
that slunk off through the high grass, and, seeing
us approach, gathered itself up and darted into
the prairie at the top of its speed.
A perron, I declare!" said the guide. "He was
going to drink at this spring, right under our noses.
I guess he belonged to that hunting party. Yes,
look over yonder," he added. "Here they come
-the horsemen, I mean. They were chasing a
buffalo, and they have got him, sure enough."
From the lower part of the valley, where we had
left the road, the two herders approached at a
lively trot, with a big, sluggish animal-a buffalo
bull, that stumbled along as if he were tired or
wounded, but every now and then broke into a
plunging gallop. They had caught him with a
lariat, a long strap of tough rawhide; and, while
the first horseman dragged him along, his com-
rade brought up the rear and plied his whip when-
ever the bull became restive. If he plunged
ahead, they let him have his way, for he never
could outrun the little horse, that just kept ahead
enough to keep its rider out of harm's way. Be-
tween the two men and their nimble horses the big
brute was perfectly helpless. Tommy snatched up
his hat, and was on the point of starting, but, see-
ing that the hunters headed for the spring, we all
waited in the shade of the grove. At sight of our
party, the bull stopped instantly and stared wildly
at us, but a crack of the heavy whip set him going
again, and the whole cavalcade came thundering
down into the grove.
Caza baraa / [Cheap venison], laughed the
man with the lariat, when he stopped his captive in
the creek. "We caught him without firing a shot.
The perrones had tired him out before we took a
hand in the game."
"I should say so," I replied. "Look at the
poor fellow's legs; the wild dogs must have caught
up with him, it seems."

From the knees down to the fetlocks, the buffalo's
legs looked as if he had been dancing in a thicket
of prickly-pears, and even on his dewlap the per-
rones had left the marks of their sharp teeth. It
was clear that the poor beast had had a close race
for his life.
"Yes, it 's a shame," said the hunter. "But
we 'll take care of him when we get him home;
the hacienda [farm-house] is not more than two
miles from here."
"Look here, amigo," said I; "I should like to
buy a young buffalo-calf; do you think you could
catch me one, and bring it to Benyamo before the
end of this week ?"
"I don't know," said the herder. "It's a little
late in the season for young calves; but if you are
going to Benyamo, you might as well stop at the
hacienda to-night, and the ranchero can tell you, if
anybody in the country can. He 's a great hand
at hunting. All this land here belongs to his
cercada. You had better come along."
"He 's right," said the guide. "I know the
place-the Hacienda del Rio; it 's not much out
of our road, anyhow."
"What does he mean by a cercada' ?" asked
Tommy, when we proceeded on our journey.
A hunting-preserve," I answered. The ran-
chero has taken out a license which makes it a
trespass for other people to hunt on his land."
The proprietor of the rancho received us with
cordial hospitality, and seemed quite sorry to dis-
appoint us when he learned the purpose of our
It 's too bad," he said. My herders caught
dozens of wild calves last spring, but I did not keep
them; there is not much demand for such things
here. I sent two of them to my next neighbor in
the Casa Morena, and he gave them to his old
A grizzly bear! Do you know how much he
would charge for such a bear ?"
Not much, I reckon; he had two of them, and
killed the bigger one because he ate so much. The
one he has now is only half-grown. But, may be, a
full-grown panther would suit you as well ?"
Yes, if it is n't crippled, nor sick."
"Then I think we can accommodate you, after
all," said the ranchero. "My neighbor caught a
splendid panther a few days ago, and meant to
have a dog-test next week."
What 's that?"
Oh, a dog-test is the best way of finding out if
a shepherd-dog is a good fighter. If he will tackle
a panther, he is n't afraid of anything."
"How far is the Casa Morena from here?" I
About seven miles," said the ranchero. You




can get there to-morrow before noon, without dif-
ficulty, and reach Benyamo by a trail across the
After supper, we spread our blankets on the ver-
anda, and the farm-hands crowded around us to
examine our nets and wire baskets.
What in the world are you going to do with all
those wild animals?" asked one of the herders,
staring at our load.
Oh, they are going to have a grand matanza
[a beast-fight] in France," said Menito, and we
came here to buy the most desperate brutes we
can get."
"Why Have n't they any bulls in that coun-
try ?" asked the herder.
"Yes; but bull-fights are against the law in
France," said Tommy.
Oh, that explains it," said the Mexican. Of
course, then, you have to make shift with some-
thing else. It's a pity we have n't got any traps
ready; we could catch lots of perrones for you to-
night-just hear them "
A moaning, melancholy howl sounded across
the hills; the'wild dogs seemed to have taken their
disappointment much to heart.
"No wonder," laughed Tommy, "if they have
to go to bed supperless after their hard chase-the
poor wretches "
"Why, it serves them just right," said Daddy
Simon. If the proprietor of this place has taken
out a license, they had no business to hunt on his


BEFORE we reached the hacienda, the report
seemed to have spread that we were going to col-
lect all the wild brutes we could lay our hands on,
for on the outskirts of the village we met a man,
who inquired very politely if we did not wish to buy
his old boar,-" an outrageous hog and a powerful
fighter," as he assured us. We declined the pro-
posal, with thanks, but we had hardly got rid of
him when another fellow offered us "a regular
A truly desperate animal," he said; "you
never saw such a kicker."
We cannot buy a fighting-mule on trust, you
know. We 'd have to write to France about it,"
said Menito; but Tommy laughed so much at
the idea of the fighting-mule that the fellow sus-
pected a joke and left us alone.
There is a kind of tree in Mexico called
charca-wood, and which looks very much like
black-walnut; but if you try to break a charca-
stick, it splinters like bamboo, and if an animal
should attempt to gnaw it, it would tear its gums

all to pieces. The panther had been confined in a
large box of such charca-sticks, and the box was
now standing on the threshing-floor of the barn.
It was too big to be carried over the mountains,
but they had a smaller cage of the same kind of
wood, and, in order to get the cunning panther
into this cage, the overseer had devised quite an
ingenious plan.
In one corner of the barn they had removed a
board, and placed the cage outside, with its, open
door just fitting the hole in the board-wall. It was
a sort of sliding-door that could be raised and low-
ered with a string. Now, if the panther should try
to escape through the hole in the wall, she would
run right into the cage; and if we pulled the string,
down would come the sliding-door, and we should
have her just where we wanted her.
The panther was a female, as lithe and active as
a weasel, and beautifully marked. She was not
quite full-grown, but evidently a dangerous brute,
and before they opened the box, the Seior (the
owner of the hacienda) asked us to step behind a
board partition, where they stored their grain. The
box had been turned over sideways, so that the
door was now on top, and one of the grooms went
boldly up to it and removed the staple. He opened
the door just a little bit, waited a second and then
closed it again; opened it once more and waited
about two seconds before he shut it; the next time
three seconds, and so on.
The panther watched every action he made,
with glittering eyes, and crouched down for a
spring, but the continual motion of the door some-
how confused her, and when the groom finally
threw the door wide open and walked away, she
remained quietly at the bottom of the cage, still
watching the opening. By and by, she raised her
head, eyed the aperture closely and carefully, and
suddenly bounced out with a spring that landed
her nearly in the middle opf the threshing-floor.
There she stood for a moment with glaring eyes,
and then bounded away and galloped along the
walls, hunting for a loophole or a hiding-place.
She came close to the hole in the corner, but un-
fortunately stumbled over the loose board, took
fright and bounded away to the opposite end of the
barn, where she espied a little cranny between the
floor and the boards of a side-door. In the next
moment she was tearing away at the boards with
claws and teeth.
"Bad luck-there she goes! cried the over-
seer. "Quick! Somebody run down to the village
and fetch the herder Tomas, the man who caught
the bear with a lariat last year! "
There is n't time. She will get through there
in ten minutes!" shouted the Senor. "Get the
dogs-every one of them !"




The groom ran out, and quickly returned with a
pack of big shepherd-dogs, while one of the stable-
boys came in with a powerful brindled deer-hound.
Fetch them this way!" cried the Seior.
"Now they see her. Alza! Forward, boys! Grab
her! "
They will tear her to pieces," I remarked.
"No danger," laughed the Seior. She 'll
take care of herself."
He was right. It was wonderful how easily the
little brute held her own against five big hounds,
two of them considerably heavier than herself.
They dashed at her with a rush; but, in the nick
of time, she flung herself on her back, and up
went her four claws, the points bristling like sixteen
daggers. The dogs started back as a man would
from the muzzle of a loaded shot-gun, and the
panther at once recommended her work at the
"Here, Joe, slip the deer-hound! cried the
The hound leaped upon her with a fierce growl,
but was hurled back by a blow that made his hair
fly and tore a heavy leather collar off his neck.
Have you ever seen such a lucky dog ? laughed
the overseer. "If it had not been for that collar,
she would have torn his throat from ear to ear."
The shepherd-dogs charged her again and again,
but not one of them dared come within reach of
those terrible paws, and in the intervals of the
fight she tore .away at the planks and boards.
"That wont do," said the Senor. "Get a pail-
ful of hot water."
"I am sorry to say that wont do, either," I
remarked. "I have no use for her if you spoil
her fur. Can't we scare her out of that corner
somehow or other?"
I guess we can," said one of the herders, and
in less than two minutes. Have you any black
pepper in the house, Senor? "
"Plenty of it. Why?"
"Well, then, let Joe get a red-hot pan and a
handful of pepper. That will fetch her; it will
start a balky horse that would not care for the
heaviest cart-whip in Mexico."
"Now hand me that pan," said the herder, when
Joe returned. Let the panther alone for a min-
ute; I 'm going to work this business from the
outside, or you would all sneeze yourselves to
I thought so, too, for the mere scent of the pep-
per-smoke made my eyes smart as if I had washed
them with lye, and the boys began to cough and
rub their noses. The herder went out and placed
the pan close to the cranny of the side door, fanned
it with his shawl, and soon the smoke came through
the boards in little curling white clouds.

I once heard five tomcats waul on the same
roof, but the concert could not compare with the
music of the she-panther when that smoke reached
her nostrils. She pressed her nose against the
floor, rubbed her eyes with her paws, and squealed
in a way that made the boys laugh till they
screamed; but still she held her ground, like a
stubborn child that will rather stand any misery
than yield its point.
"Have you any gunpowder handy, Sefor?"
asked the overseer.
"Here, take my powder-flask," I said, guessing
what he would be about.
He went out, and, a second after, a big gray
cloud puffed up through the cracks, and the panther
bolted like a shot. The idea of facing that amount
of smoke had suddenly overcome her powers of
endurance. She darted to the opposite end of the
barn, saw the loophole, and at once squeezed her-
self through and into the cage. A pull at the
string, and we heard the sliding-door drop. We
had her safe.
Such a vixen laughed the Sefior. I war-
rant she had seen that hole long ago, but was
bound to give us all the trouble she possibly could.
Now, don't you think she is worth eight dollars ?"
"I suppose so."
"Well, then, make it ten, and I '11 let you have
the little grizzly, too. I 've not much use for him,
All right," said I; "I '11 take him."
"Well, but hold on," said the overseer. This
gentleman has n't anything to put him in, and
we have only this. one cage."
Can you wait till to-morrow? said the Senor.
"Not very well," I replied. "We have to get
to Benyamo by Saturday night."
"Well, then, I 'm afraid we shall have to muzzle
him and cut his claws. Our village teamster will
start for Benyamo this evening, and we can put the
grizzly in the back part of the wagon. He 's too
contrary to go afoot."
"But how can you muzzle him ?" I asked.
"Oh, we '11 manage that," said the overseer.
"Come on."
The grizzly looked, indeed, as if he could not be
trusted in his present condition. He was chained
up near a little garden-fountain; and, when he saw
us coming, he retreated toward a sort of dog-house,
growling and showing a row of formidable teeth.
The overseer went up to the dog-house from
behind, dragged it back till the bear could not
reach it with his short chain, and then called the
Now come on, Joe; turn the squirt on him."
The groom quietly unscrewed the pipe and
turned the nozzle on the grizzly. In spite of his





chain, the bear leaped to and fro with surprising
agility; but the jet followed him wherever he went,
and drenched him till he weltered and groveled in
a puddle of wet sand.
Stop," said the overseer; "let us see if that
will do." He fetched a long pole and held it close
to the bear's head. "Look here, Jack, will you
behave now? he asked.
The bear eyed him, grabbed the end of the pole,
and crushed it between his jaws like a turnip.


He wont give in yet. Go on, Joe," said the
The deluge recommended, and the bear struck
out left and right with a violence that spattered the
water all over the gravel-plot. Twice he rose on
his hind legs, and shook his dripping paws as if he
longed to grapple with a less evasive foe; but by
and by his legs gave way, he put his paws farther
and farther apart, and finally rolled over and
clutched at the empty air, as though he were going
to choke.
Hold on," I said, or perhaps you 'll kill him
Stop, Joe," said the overseer. "But I don't
trust him yet; he 's up to all kinds of tricks."
VOL. VIII.-14.

He took up the pole and poked him repeatedly;
but the bear lay still, gurgling and snoring as in a
dream. He was thoroughly stupefied, and before
he could recover his senses, the men muzzled him
and cut every one of his long claws. When he
awoke, he found himself, gagged and tied in a
nice straw-padded cart, on the road to Benyamo.
The bear, the panther-cage and the monkeys were
in the cart, and Black Betsy carried only our
provisions and a few of the empty, wire baskets.

,, --

Yes, I can give you a blanket,"
I said. "Why?"
"Just look at these monkeys," said he. "They
,, ,: ,, t, -.- _-- -

are half dead with fear at being so near that old
grizzly. We 'd better cover up their cage, so that
they wont see him."
I put all the wire baskets together and covered
them completely with a large piece of tent-cloth.
The monkeys then stopped their jabbering; but
before long their curiosity got the better of their
fear. They soon found out that they could lift one
corner of the curtain, and, one after the other,
they stole up to take a sly look at the bear. After
every peep, they would put their heads together
and confer in a kind of solemn whisper.
We made only seven miles that afternoon, for,
toward evening, the road became so steep that it

. . .. . =

toward evening, the road became so steep that it




seemed dangerous to go any farther after night-fall.
But when the sun rose the next morning, the view
of the sierra was so glorious that we were glad we
had not passed such scenery in the dark. The
crests of the sunlit Cordilleras looked like gilded
cloud-castles, and in a rocky mountain-range on
our left, every creek and every water-fall glittered
like a streak of silver. Our panther had been
caught in this neighborhood, and I knew that
these mountains were infested with other beasts of
prey; but we had a swarm of dogs along. Old
Rough had rejoined us at the rancho, the owner of

the hacienda had lent us the deer-hound and two
of the large shepherd-dogs, in case the bear should
get loose, and our teamster had three big curs of
his own. Before long, they started a peccary, one
of those quick-footed wild hogs of the Mexican hill-
forests, and the whole pack was off in hot pursuit.
I think there's a troop of horsemen coming,"
said Tommy. I hear trotting behind us."
The teamster stopped his cart and looked back.
"Where are the dogs ?" he whispered, glancing
about anxiously. They are always gone if you
want them. Get your guns ready, gentlemen!"

(To be continued.)



" But especially Thing-a-ma-jig."-Lewis Carrol.

No, I DON'T think we exactly spoil him," said
his mother, thoughtfully, and with a great air of
"No, I don't think we exactly spoil him," said
his father, like a judge giving sentence.
"Spoil him! You couldn't spdil him! B'ess
its littlee heart, it's whole heaps too tweet to be
spoiled !" said his three young aunts, and in their
struggle for possession of the inestimable treasure,
they came near disproving their own words. Aunt
Martha snoited. It certainly was not polite in her
to snort, and perhaps it is not even polite in me to
mention it, but truth is mighty and will prevail.
"Now, Aunt Martha, that is n't fair," said his
mother, in an injured tone, and exactly as if the
old lady had spoken. "We could n't be more
judicious with him than we are. I try his bath
every morning with the thermometer, myself, and
he never eats a thing that I have n't tasted first,
and he has never eaten a bit of candy but Ridley's
broken, and that only at his dessert, and "
And you did n't walk the floor with him half
the night, last week, because he had a few mos-
quito bites and a little prickly heat; and you
shook him well for pouring cologne on the fire
and nearly blowing himself up; and you sent him
to bed without his supper the night he set fire to
the curtains; and you did n't let him have your
diamond ring to play with, and lose, because he
cried for it, and --"
"Oh, come now, Aunty," said his father, inter-
rupting the old lady as she had interrupted her
niece, "you seem to forget how little he is. I
don't wonder, for certainly his intellect is remark-

able for a child of his age; but he is only three
years old, you know, and we can't begin to reason
with him yet, poor little chap."
"If his intellect 's so far in advance of his age, I
don't see why not," said Aunt Martha, dryly, but
nobody seemed to hear her, and she continued:
" When mine were that size, I did n't reason with
'em,-I spanked 'em!"
Yes, and see began one of the young
aunts, excitedly, and then stopped short, blushing.
Aunt Martha rose abruptly, and left the room.
It was only too well known in the family that her
boys had grown up "wild," and her girls treacher-
ous and deceitful.
You ought n't to have said that, Katie," said
the married sister, reproachfully.
"I don't care !" and Katie shrugged her shoul-
ders willfully. She 's all the time picking at you
and Hal, and I 'm tired of it; and as for this little
angel's being spoiled-did it want its aunty's ear-
rings, b'essed littlee pet ? There-oh, do look, girls,
-he 's trying to put them in his dear little ears !
Did you ever see anything so 'cute!"
Now the young aunts were, as they would have
endearingly expressed it, "his own-y don-y aunts,"
while Aunt Martha was only his great-aunt.
It was very warm that night at bed-time, and
doors and windows were left wide open.
The heat prevented Aunt Martha from sleeping
until quite late, and she had just dropped off com-
fortably when she was roused by a wail of such
deep despair that she sprang out of bed almost
before she knew it, and then stopped to listen for
some clue to the direction whence the sound had




come. She had not long to wait; another wail, I 'm afraid he disturbed you a little last night,"
more prolonged than the first, came unmistakably said his mother, deprecatingly.
from the room on the opposite side of the passage, He did-a good deal," answered Aunt Martha,
where the son and heir, watched over by his tender grimly. What ailed him ?"
parents, slept secure. Aunt Martha stepped into The parents looked at each other foolishly.
bed again. But first she made a motion to close I don't think he was quite began his
the door, and then drew back, with a quick bob of mother, meekly.
her head, leaving the door wide open. "Stuff and nonsense said Aunt Martha, with
Heart-rending sobs followed the wail, and then a withering scorn. "He 's as well as I am, and
little voice said, brokenly: better. What is it he calls his 'thing-a-ma-jig,'
I want my thing-a-ma-jig I want my thing- anyhow? "
a-ma-jig! And it is n't here--it 's all gone It 's an egg-beater," said his mother, after an
The mother made some tender suggestion which interval of embarrassed silence, in which she vainly
Aunt Martha could not catch, and once more that looked her husband to come to the rescue.
wail broke the silence of the night. "An egg-beater and Aunt Martha stopped,
No No shrieked their darling. I wont apparently struck dumb with astonishment.
have it; take it away! I wont have anything but "Yes; it's a patent thing I bought when we
my thing-a-ma-jig first went to housekeeping; but it would n't work,
"I 'm afraid you '11 have to get it, dear," somehow, and one day I was holding Baby in the
said the treasure's mother, a little reluctantly. kitchen, while I talked to the cook about
"He 'll make himself ill if he cries so." breakfast, and she put a buttoln in it,-she
(" It 's of no consequence whether he loves children dearly,-and rattled it
rouses the house or not," said Aunt Mar- around to amuse him, and he laughed
tha to herself, with such fine scorn, that and crowed so sweetly, that I took it
it was a dreadful pity it was wasted on an upstairs to let his father see him with it;
imaginary audience.) and, ever since, he takes it to bed with
Do you know where it is? "-Aunt Martha him every night, and the last thing he does,
heard the scraping of a match. He left it when he is n't too sleepy, is to 'put it to
in the library; it 's my fault, dearie,"-peni- sleep,' as he calls it, by spinning the button
tently,-" for I meant to bring it up, and forgot about in it. I don't see how we came to let
it. There, there,--don't cry any more, darling; him go to bed without it last night. He was
Papa 's gone for his thing-a-ma-jig, and he '11 so tired, that he went to sleep before he missed
have it in a minute." it; but I '11 try not to let it happen again. Was
The sobs ceased as the fond father was heard n't it clever of him? He heard his father call
returning; but, presently, they broke forth afresh, something a thing-a-ma-jig one day, and he 's
and among them, Aunt Martha distinguished called it that ever since."
the words: "Papa did n't bring my button, And the parents beamed fondly on their darling,
and it wont play without my button, and I 'spect who appeared at this juncture, fresh and smil-
my button 's lo-o-o-st! ing, with a "sweet, clean kiss" for every one
"Here are the scissors, Harry. Cut him off who would take it. Aunt Martha's stern face
a button from your coat ; I 'll sew on another relaxed for a moment, as the baby-lips were
in the morning. I can't bear to hear him sob pressed to hers, and the clear little voice said
so, and he 's only half awake, you know. Poor gravely, I hope you slept tight and waked
little chap! He can't be well. There, old bright, Aunt Martha! But it froze over again,
fellow, there 's a famous button for you. Now with startling suddenness, as she turned to the
put your thing-a-ma-jig to sleep." misguided parents.
Silence reigned after this, broken just once by a How many times do you suppose you 've got
low, sleepy little laugh, which somehow sounded up to give him that thi-that egg-beater, since he
like the bird-notes one hears in the stillness of the took this notion ?" she inquired, sternly.
short summer nights. "Oh, not more than a dozen nor less than twelve,"
Sheepishness, and a determination to brave it said her nephew, lightly.
out, contended for the mastery on the faces of the But he 's not a bit spoiled said Aunt Mar-
parents, as they met Aunt Martha at breakfast, tha, sharply. "Oh, no! Not at all! Humph! "




_.IICd"2 -_-'"-




VERY few skaters have not, now and then, to a
moderate extent, made ice-boats of themselves by
standing up straight, with their backs to the wind,
and allowing themselves to be blown along before
it. Coats, held wide open, umbrellas, shawls, and
the like, have been used to gain greater speed;
but, after all was done, there remained the long
pull back against the wind-no laughing matter,
with the thermometer in the twenties, or lower, and
a howling north-wester sending the loose snow in
stinging sheets along the ice. There was so much
fun, however, in running down before the gale,
that boys have always made light of working to
windward. Why in the world it did not sooner
occur to some ingenious lad that he could turn
himself into an efficient ice-boat, is one of those
things that cannot be explained; but certain it is
that, until last winter, the world at large did not
know that Canadians were in the habit of rigging
themselves with spars and canvas, sailing close-
hauled," "running free," having themselves "taken
aback," "missing stays," being struck by squalls,

and, in short, going through no end of fascinating
maneuvers, with the aid of the wind, and without
danger of a ducking in case of an upset.
The name of the inventor of skate-sailing has
not been announced, but his plan was the simple
one of stretching an oblong sail on a light frame,
and holding it by means of a spar reaching from
end to end. With this, it is possible to do every-
thing that an ice-boat can be expected to do. But
the crew works at a disadvantage: the steersman
can see only one-half as much as he ought to see,
and of course stands in constant danger of collision.
To lift or lower the sail, so as to see if the way is
clear, is a somewhat awkward operation.
Another difficulty with this form of sail is, that
its spars must be somewhat heavy, in order to bear
the strain of sufficient bracing, as there is a tend-
ency on the part of the sail to twist and make a
complete wreck of itself and crew. The latest im-
provement does away effectually with both these
imperfections, and seems to provide a nearly per-
fect device for skate-sailing.




In the first place, the sail is divided into fore-
sail and main-sail, so that the crew has his whole
course in plain sight between the two. Secondly,

smoothly on the floor, and mark out the sails,
making ample allowance for heavy hems. Stitch
stout tape all around where the edges are to be,



the main spar is made
=- 4.a double, so that it affords
Stwo points of support for
each of the "yards" or
cross-pieces, and renders
the whole affair so strong
that comparatively light spars may be used. In
the diagram given on the next page, A G is the
main spar, from eight to twelve feet long, accord-
ing to the size and strength of the crew. It is
made of bamboo, or some light native wood like
spruce or pine. The pieces should not be less than
an inch and a half in diameter in the middle. They
may be tapered toward the ends, but one side of
each should be left flat.
Each piece, in short, is
shaped like an archer's
bow, much lengthened.
The flat sides are laid
together, and the ends
at A and G are lashed
firmly with strong twine.
In or near each end, at
A and G, is set a button
to hold the clew-cor-
ner, that is-of the sail.
The most perfect spar
yet devised is made of
four pieces of bamboo,
with brass fishing-rod
ferrules at the butts, fit-
ting into one another at
M. Brass tips hold the
smaller ends of the bamboos together at A and G.
The butts join at the middle of the spar, which
can thus be taken to pieces and easily carried.
The sails are made from the heaviest cotton
sheeting-unbleached is best. Tack the material


and have the hem as strong as possible, especially
at the corners, sewing through the tape and several
thicknesses of the sheeting. If the sails are to keep
their shape, the tape is indispensable. Stout laid
cord (cotton, or hemp), sewn around the edges and
forming small loops at the clews, makes a desirable
finish, but is not absolutely necessary. Instead,
small brass or galvanized rings may be sewn to the
clews. These rings must be large enough to catch
easily on the pins or knobs in the spar-ends.
The sails may range in size from three to five
feet square, according to the size, strength, and
weight of the skater. It is not difficult to arrange
them for reefing, but they are so easily adjustable


to the wind without reefing, that this is hardly
The cross-yards are quite light. Bamboo, five-
eighths of an inch thick at the smaller end, is
probably heavy enough for the largest practicable



. -


sail. They must be made three or four inches
longer than the diagonal of the sail. Near the
ends of the yards are buttons similar to those on




/ '" '* *'lA "


- C



the spar. To the middle of each yard is firmly
lashed a cleat, some three to five inches long (K,
in the above diagram)-whose ends are shaped so
as to receive and hold the two pieces of the main
spar, when they are sprung apart.
Two opposite clews of the sail are now hooked
over the buttons at the ends of the yard, the main
spar is sprung apart until the cleat can be inserted
and held at right angles between its pieces, as at J.
The yard is pushed along until the clew of the sail
can be hooked over the button at the spar-end.
The other sail is then put in position similarly at
the other end of the spar, and the two remaining
clews, at C and E, are strained together with a
strap or cord as tightly as the material will permit.
The whole affair is exceedingly light, strong, and
elastic, and will stand any reasonable amount of
Such is the rig. Now, the question is, how to
manage it. This is a far less complicated matter
than in the case of a sail-boat, although the princi-
ple is the same. If you are caught by a squall, all
you have to do is to let go of everything, and your
sails will fall flat on the ice and await your pleasure.
In running before the wind, all you have to do
is to hold the spar across the course of the wind,
steer with your feet, and go as fast as the wind
does. You can vary your course at will consider-
ably to the right or left without altering the position
of the sail.
When your course is nearly at right angles to
that of the wind, or against it, you will naturally
take the spar under one or the other arm, and
point the fore-sail more or less in the direction from
which the wind comes.
Let us call this second diagram a pond, with the
wind blowing from top to bottom. In this diagram,
the black spots represent the skater, the arrows the
direction in which he sails under different conditions,
and the long line, etc., the spar and sails. In his
first course down the middle of the pond, he grasps







the spar by the middle, or holds it under his arms
behind him. Squaring away with his back to the
wind, as at A, he sails before it to the lower end of
the pond, moving his feet only for the purpose of
steering. In order to make the wind take him
back to his starting-point, he turns his sails at an
acute angle to the course of the wind, as at B, C,
D, and E, instead of across it, as at A. If pointed
nearly as at B or C, it will carry him directly across
the pond. If as at D and E, it will carry him more
or less up the pond, as indicated by the arrows.
When he reaches the shore on one tack,-say that
represented by E,-he "goes about," that is,
changes the direction of his sails so that they point
as at D. The wind will now carry him on a slant
to the opposite shore, which he will reach at a
point still nearer the head of the pond. Thus, by
zig-zagging from one side to the other, now on one
tack and now on the other, he may work his way to
Experiment alone can show each individual how
best to trim his sails, whether to carry his spar
under his windward or leeward arm, or before or
behind him. Tastes differ in all these particulars.
So, in going about,-changing, that is, from one
tack to the other,-each must adopt the method
which he personally finds most convenient. One,



perhaps, will pass the spar over his head; another
will let the fore-sail fall off to leeward, and bring
up the main-sail on the other side, so that it will in
turn become the fore-sail. In all these particulars,


each must be a law unto himself; but in regard to
avoiding collisions, it is plainly necessary to have a
general understanding, and the rules of the Hud-
son River Ice-Boat Club, adapted to skate-sailing,
are perhaps the best.

I. Skate-sailers on the port tack must give way
to those on the starboard tack.
II. When skate-sailers are moving side by side,
or nearly so, on the same tack, those to windward
must give way to those to leeward when requested
to do so, if there is an obstacle in the course of the
leewardmost. But the leeward skate-sailer must

.. -

H' J
1 i /


rules in the course of a race shall forfeit all claim to
the victory.
VII. A touch, whether of person or of rig, con-
stitutes a collision, either with another skate-sailer,
or with a mark or buoy, and he who is responsible
for it, under the rules, forfeits all claim to the
VIII. No means of locomotion, other than that
afforded by the wind, is permissible during a race.

For the benefit of those who are not familiar
with sea-terms, it should be stated that "running
free" means sailing before, or nearly before, the
wind. "Close-hauled," or "on the wind," means




go about or change his course at the same time as
the windward skate-sailer, or as soon as he can
without coming into collision. The new direction
must be kept, at least until the obstacle has been
III. When skate-sailers are moving side by side,
as in Rule II., and approaching a windward ob-
stacle, the leewardmost must give way when
requested to do so. But the windwardmost must
change his course at the same time as the leeward-
most, or as soon as he can do so without coming
into collision, and the new direction must be kept,
at least until the obstacle has been cleared.
IV. When skate-sailers are running free, it rests
with the rearmost ones to avoid collision.
V. Skate-sailers running free must always give
way to those on either tack.
VI. Skate-sailers who violate any of the foregoing

sailing sharply across its course. When the skater's
right side is presented to the wind, he is on the
starboard tack; when his left side is presented to
the wind, he is on the port tack.
The possibility of using the sail on an ordinary
coasting-sled will naturally occur to every skater.
This can be accomplished with the aid of a few
additional fixtures. A regular ice-boat has three
runners, two in front and one in the rear. The
latter is pivoted, so that it can be turned from side
to side like the rudder of a boat, and used in like
manner for steering. The first thing to be done
with a sled is to provide it with sharp shoes, which
will not slip over the ice sidewise. A pair of skates,
or skate-blades, fastened one to each runner near
the bend, are as good as anything. The fitting of
the after-runner is a more complicated affair, if
fastened to the sled, and it is not worth while to



give directions for it here. The simplest way is to
let the after part of the sled rest on its own proper
runners, and depend on the feet for steering, or use
a stout stick shod with iron. A blade-shaped iron
is best, as it presents an edge to the ice.
It is possible to kneel on the sled and hold the
sail under the arm, but a mast about three feet
high, stepped at the side of the sled, is better. If
but one mast is carried, it must be arranged so that
it can be readily shifted from one side to the other.
The head of the mast is crotched to receive the
upper spar; or a hook, large enough to hold it, is
inserted an inch or two below the mast-head. The
lower spar rests against the mast, and is held there
by the crew with one of his hands. A crew of two,
on a long sled of the so-called pig-sticker variety,
can do very pretty work, one tending the sail and
the other steering; but a crew of one will think
that he needs at least two extra pairs of hands,
until he gets the knack of the thing.
It is suggested that more sail can be carried by a
single skater, if his yard-arms are shod with light
metal disks, so that they can be allowed to rest on
the ice and act as runners. So far as known, this

has not been actually tried. It looks promising,
but will necessitate rather heavier yards.
This new winter sport opens for all skaters a
fresh field of enjoyment. Races or, if you please,
"regattas" can be indulged in to any extent, and
individual skill in the management of one's self
under canvas will afford exhilarating exercise for
brain and body, without in the least increasing the
danger. Girls as well as boys, ladies as well as
gentlemen, can take part in this pastime, and, in-
deed, one of the best ways of managing a sail is to
have a double crew, one holding the spar forward"
and the other "aft."
Of course, if the girls have anything to do with
sails, they will very soon begin to decorate them,
and use colored material. A set of sails made of
silk would be amazingly pretty in combination with
a tasteful skating costume, skimming across the
gleaming surface of a frozen lake, and the effect
would be heightened by little, colored streamers
flying from the yard-arm. We shall expect, by
another season, to hear of the organization of skate-
sailing clubs, and the adoption of various constitu-
tions and by-laws for their regulation.




~''"' r




"A HAPPY New Year to you, my lady!
To give you this greeting I came."
" Oh, thank you, indeed," said the sweet little
" And, truly, I wish you the same."

" I wish you many returns, my lady,
A long chain of years, I may say,
Linked into garlands of joy, my lady,
And now I must bid you good-day."

" Yes, many returns," said the bright little lady,
In sooth, I would wish for them, too;
A long, long chain," said the dear little lady,
Of beautiful visits from you !"





THE fact was, Phaeton had spent more study on
the question of landing his passengers safely than
on any other part of his invention. It was not the
first instance-since the days of the hand-mill that
made the sea salt-in which it had been found easy
to set a thing going, but difficult to stop it.
"There are several ways," said he, continuing
his explanation to Ned and me, to let the passen-
gers off safely. I have n't decided yet what I '11
adopt. One way is, to have a sort of brake to
squeeze down on the cable and make it stop gradu-
'ally. I don't exactly like that, because it would
wear out the cable, and these cables are going to
cost a great deal of money. Another way is, to
throw the passengers against a big, soft mattress,
like pins in a bowling-alley. But even that would
hurt a little, I guess, no matter how soft you made
the mattress. The best way is, to drop them in
a tank of water."
What I and get all wet?" said Ned.
"Don't be in a hurry," said Phaeton. "Each one
would wear an India rubber water-proof garment (a
sort of over-dress), covering him all over and fas-

tened up tight. Of course, these dresses would be
provided by the company."
But would n't it use up a cable every time you
cut it?" said Ned.
"Not at all; it could be stretched again by
hitching a team of horses to the end and drawing
it back, and then we should solder it -.. -.h:r '. :'.
melted India rubber. Probably a dozen teams
would be at work at night stretching cables for use
next day. You see, we should have as many cables
as the business of the road would require."
I have never known whether Phaeton was sincere
in all this, or whether he was simply i;-,ol Ned
and me. I have since suspected that he had a pur-
pose which did not appear at the time. At any
rate, we took it all in and believed it all, and looked
upon him as one of the world's great inventors.
"And what do you want the ten dollars for?"
said Ned.
"Well, you know, nothing can be done without
more or less money," said Phaeton. "The first
thing is, to get up a model to send to the Patent-
Office, and get a patent on it."
"What 's a model?" said Ned.
"A model," said Phaeton, is a little one, with
tunnel and all complete, to show how it works."
"A tunnel," said Ned, "is a hole in the ground.

* Copyright, i88o, by Rossiter Johnson. All rights reserved.




You can't send a hole in the ground to the Patent-
'Office, no matter how small you make it."
Oh, pshaw Don't you understand? There
would be a little wooden tube or shell, painted red,
to represent the brick-work that the real tunnel
would be arched in with."
Well, what then?"
I suppose it would cost about ten dollars to get
up a model. If it's going to the Patent-Office it
does n't want to be botched up with a pocket-knife."
"Of course not," said Ned. "But the model
will be only a beginning. It will take a great deal
more money than that to build the real thing."
Now you talk business," said Phaeton. "And
I 'm ready to talk with you. I've thought it all
out. I got an idea from the way in which Father
says Mr. Drake manages to build so many houses.
There are two ways to get this thing into opera-
tion. One is, to try it first in this town. You know
we boys could dig the tunnel ourselves, and it
would n't cost anything. Then we could give a
mortgage on the tunnel, and so raise money to buy
the cable, and there you are."
"That's all very fine," said Ned; "but they
foreclose mortgages. And if there was a mortgage
on our tunnel, and they foreclosed it while we were
in there, what would become of us? How should
we ever get out ? "
Phaeton laughed. "I 'll tell you how we 'll fix
it," said he. "We'll have a secret shaft leading
.out of the tunnel, and not let the man we give the
mortgage to, know anything about it."
Ned did n't exactly know whether he was being
.quizzed or not.
What's the other way of getting the thing into
,operation?" said he.
"The other way," said Phaeton, "is to go to
New York and see Uncle Silas, and have him get
up a company to start it there."
"I think I like that way best," said Ned.
"But, to tell you the truth, I had made arrange-
ments to do something else with that ten dollars."
Phaeton looked disappointed.
Then why did n't you say so in the first place?"
said he, as he put his things into his pocket and
turned to walk away.
"Don't get mad, Fay," said Ned. "Perhaps
we can get another ten."
"Where can we get it ? "
"Of Aunt Mercy."
You might, but I can't."
Well, I'11 try to get it for you, if you '11 let
me take your machine."
Well," said Phaeton. When will you go? "
I might as well go this evening as any time,"
said Ned.
So it was agreed that he should visit his Aunt

Mercy that evening, and see if she would advance
the money for a motel. I was to go with him, but
Phaeton was to be kept entirely in the background.
Do you suppose Fay can really make anything
out of this machine ?" said Ned to me, as we were
on the way to his Aunt Mercy's.
I should think he might," said I. For he is
certainly a genius, and he seems to have great faith
in it."
At any rate, we might as well get fifteen dollars
while we are about it," said Ned.
I suppose we might," said I.

Good-evening, Aunty."
Good-evening, Edmund Burton."
Aunt Mercy was sipping a cup of tea, and read-
ing the evening paper.
"What's the news, Aunty ?"
Another railroad accident, of course."
"Nobody hurt, I hope? "
"Yes; a great many. I wonder that anybody 's
foolhardy enough to ride on railroads."
"How did it happen ?" said Ned, beginning to
think it was a poor time to get money for a railroad
"Train ran off the track," said Aunt Mercy,
"and ran right down an embankment. Seems to
me they always do. I don't see why they have so
many embankments."
fhey ought not to," said Ned. If they only
knew it, there 's a way to make a railroad without
any track, or any wheels to run off the track, or
any embankment to run down if they did run off."
"You don't say so, Edmund Burton! What
sort of a railroad would that be ? "
I happen to have the plan of one with me,"
said Ned.
"Edmund Burton! What do you mean? "
I mean this," said Ned, pulling from his
pocket the little frame with a rubber string
stretched on it. It 's a new invention; has n't
been patented yet."
"Edmund Burton!" was all his aunt
could say.
I '11 explain it to you, Aunty," said Ned, as he
picked up the newspaper which she had dropped,
and rolled it into a tube.
"This," said he, "represents a tunnel, a big
round hole, you know, as big as this room, bored
along in the ground. It goes right through rocks
and everything, and is perfectly straight. No dan-
gerous curves. And this "-showing the frame
and then passing it into the paper tube-" repre-
sents an India rubber cable as large as a stove-
pipe, and is stretched out as far as possible, and
fastened tight to posts at the ends."
"Edmund Burton!"



1881.1 PHAETON ROGERS. 219

"Now, Aunty, we '11 call this end Albany, and
this end Buffalo."
"Edmund Burton!"
All the men and boys in Albany that want to
go to Buffalo could come down to the depot, and
get on the cable right there, sitting just as if they
were on horseback, and there will be nice little
straps for them to hold on by."
"Edmund Burton!"
"When everybody 's ready, the train-dispatcher
just picks up a sharp ax, and with one blow cuts
the cable in two, right here, and zip the pas-
sengers find themselves in Buffalo. No boiler to

"Edmund Burton!"
And the great advantage of it is, that the car
is perfectly round, and so whichever way it might
happen to turn, it would always be right side up,
for every side is the right side !"
"Edmund Burton, you are a genius!"
But you must n't tell anybody about it, Aunty,
for it has n't been patented yet."
Why don't you patent it, Edmund Burton ?"
We think of doing so, Aunty, but it will cost
more money than we have just now. The first
thing is, to get up a model."
"What 's that, Edmund Burton ?"


burst, no track to get off from, no embankment to
plunge down, no wheels to get out of order."
"Edmund Burton, you are a genius!
But ladies can't ride that way."
Of course not, Aunty. We have a car for the
ladies. This "-and he picked up from the table
a spool of thread and a lead pencil, and passed the
pencil through the hole in the spool-" represents
it. The pencil represents the cable, and the spool
represents the car, which is fastened tight on the
cable. When the ladies are all in, it is locked up,
and then the cable is cut behind it."

"A little one, with tunnel and everything com-
plete, to show how it works. That has to go to the
Patent-Office and be put in a glass case."
"And how much will it cost to make a muddle,
Edmund Burton? "
Fay says he thinks one could be made for ten
dollars; but I suppose more money would build a
better one."
Your brother knows nothing about it, Edmund
Burton. He would get up a miserable cheap
muddle, and disgrace the family. Don't let him
have anything to do with it. Jane "-calling to





the servant-" bring me my pocket-book from the
right-hand corner of my top bureau drawer."
Jane brought it.
"How much will it take for a good muddle,
Edmund Burton?" said his Aunt Mercy, as she
opened her pocket-book.
I should think fifteen dollars ought to be a
great plenty," said Ned, and she handed him a
crisp new ten-dollar bill and a five.
"Thank you, Aunty."
You 're welcome, child. Always come to me
when you want money to make a muddle. But
mind what I tell you, Edmund Burton. Don't let
that numskull brother of yours have anything to
do with it, and be sure you get up a handsome
muddle that will do credit to the family."
"Yes, Aunty. Good-night! "
Good-night! But come and kiss me before
you go, Edmund Burton."

Don't you think," said Ned, as we were walk-
ing home, "before Fay goes any further with this
invention, and spends money on it, he 'd better
talk with somebody who knows more about such
things than we do."
I did n't quite know whether Ned said this be-
cause he was really anxious about the fate of the
invention, or because he did not like to part with
the money, now that he actually had it. Some
people are always ready to say that they would lend
money to a friend, if they had it; but, when they
feel it in their hands, they are not in such a hurry
to let it go out. However, I thought this was a
good idea, whatever might be Ned's reason for
suggesting it; so I said, Certainly, he ought!
Who do you think would be the best person for
him to talk with ? "
"I don't know anybody better than Jack-in-the-
Box," said Ned. Of course he knows all about
"Of course he does," said I, and he '11 be glad
to help us. Jack-in-the-Box is the very one !"



THE box was a red box, about five feet square
and eight feet high, with a pointed top. Jack was
about five feet nine inches high, with a brown beard
and mustache and dark hazel eyes, and might have
been twenty-eight years old, perhaps older. When
he was in the box, he wore a dark-blue blouse and
dark trousers and a small cloth cap. The only
time I ever saw him away from the box was on
Sunday, when he always came to the Presbyterian
Church, and sat in pew No. 79. One of the great

pillars that supported the gallery was planted in
this pew, and spoiled nearly the whole of it; but
there was a comfortable seat for one at the outer
end, and Jack had that seat. The box had two
small square windows on opposite sides. On another
side was a door, with "248" over it. The fourth side
was covered in summer with morning-glory vines,
planted by Jack, and trained to run up on strings.
A stove-pipe, about as large as your arm, stuck out
at the top. When Jack looked through one of his
windows, he looked up the railroad; when he
looked through the other, he looked down the rail-
road; when he stepped out of his door, he stood
beside the track, and on those occasions he gener-
ally had in his hand either a red flag or a red
Close beside the box rose a tall, heavy pole, with
a cross-piece on the top, and short iron rods stuck
through it at intervals all the way up. A rope
passed over pulleys in the ends of the cross-piece,
and Jack used to hoist sometimes three white balls,
sometimes two red balls, at night tying on white
or red lanterns below the balls.
To us boys, Jack was a delightful character, in
an enviable situation, but to older people, he
was a mystery. I remember, one day I was walk-
ing with father, when Mr. Briggs joined us, and
as we came in sight of the box, Jack was rolling up
his flag, a train having just gone by.
"What do you make of that young man ?" said
Mr. Briggs.
"I don't know what to make of him," said
Father. He is evidently not the sort of man they
generally have in these positions. You can tell by
his speech and manner, and his whole appearance,
that he is an educated man and a gentleman."
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Briggs. "If you peep in
at the window, you will see a shelf full of books.
He seems to have taken this way to make a hermit
of himself-not a bad way, either, in these modern
times, when there are no uninhabited wilds to retire
to, and when a little money income is absolutely
necessary to existence."
I should like to know his history," said Father.
Either he has committed some crime-forgery,
perhaps-and escaped," said Mr. Briggs, "or he
has quarreled with his family, or in some way been
I don't think it 's for any crime," said Father;
"his appearance forbids that."
Still, you can't always tell," said Mr. Briggs.'
"I tried to make his acquaintance once, but did n't
succeed. I am told he repels all advances. Even
the Presbyterian minister, whose church he attends,
can't get at him."
"I understand he likes the boys, and makes
their acquaintance," said Father.



1881.1 PHAETON ROGERS. 221

We had now arrived at our gate, and Mr. Briggs
said good-evening and passed on.
It was true that Jack-in-the-Box was partial to
boys; in fact, nobody else could make his acquaint-
ance. He liked to have us come and talk with
him, but never wanted more than two or three to
come at a time. Perhaps this was on account of
the size of the box. We used to consult him on
all sorts of occasions, and got a great many shrewd
hints and useful bits of information from him.
The inside of the box was a romance to me. I
never saw so many things in so small a space. In
one corner was a stove about as large as a coffee-
pot, and beside it a sheet-iron coal-box, not much
larger. In another corner stood the red flag, when
it was furled, and a hatchet. Behind the door,
hung flat on the wall, was a large coil of rope.
Overhead, on one side, was a shelf, nearly filled
with tools and trinkets. On the opposite side-
lower, but still over the window-was another shelf,
filled with books. I took a special interest in this
shelf, and studied the backs of the books so often,
that I think I can give you the title of every one,
in their order. They were, beginning at the left
hand, a Bible, "Essays of Elia," "Henry Es-
mond," "Life of Columbus," "Twice-told Tales,"
"Anatomy of Melancholy," "Modern Painters,"
"The Shadows of the Clouds," "The Middle
Ages," Undine and Sintram," Tales of the
Great St. Bernard," "Sordello," "Divina Comn-
media," "Sophoclis Tragcediae," "Demosthenis
Orationes," "Platonis Dialogi," "Q. Horatii Flacci
Opera," "Robinson Crusoe," "Byron's Poems,"
and "Shakspeare." I was so curious about them,
that I copied off all the hard ones on a card, and,
when I went home, tried to find out what they were.
Under the book-shelf, at one side of the window,
fastened to the wall, was a little alarm-clock. Jack
knew exactly what time every train would come
along. As soon as one had passed, and he had
rolled up his flag, he used to set the alarm so that
it would go off two minutes before the next train
was due. Then he could sit down with his book,
and be sure of not forgetting his duty. On the
other side of the window was a photograph of a
very beautiful young lady.
Jack generally sat in a sort of easy-chair with one
arm to it, on which a board was fastened in such a
way as to make a little writing-desk. The space
under the seat of the chair was boxed, with a little.
door at one side, and in there he kept his
Hardly a day passed that Jack did not have boy
visitors. There were only two things about him
that seemed singular to me. We could never find
out his real name. He told us to call him simply
Jack; whereupon Isaac Holman said the full name

must be Jack-in-the-Box, and after.that we always
called him by the full name. The other queer
thing was, that he was never known to read a news-
paper. The boys sometimes brought one to him,
but he always said he did n't care about it, and
would not open it. Father and Mr. Briggs ap-
peared to think it very strange that he should live
in that box and attend to the flag and signals. To
me it seemed the most delightful life imaginable,
and Jack-in-the-Box was one of my heroes. I often
thought that, if I could choose my own station in
life, my choice would be a flag-station on the
Phaeton adopted Ned's suggestion as to consult-
ing Jack-in-the-Box about his invention, and we
three went together to see him.
When we got there, the door of the box stood
wide open; everything seemed to be in its place,
but Jack had disappeared.
"Probably gone up the road, to flag an extra
train," said Phaeton. No, he has n't, for there 's
his flag in its place in the corner."
He can't have been murdered," said Ned, "or
they would have robbed the box. Must be suicide.
Perhaps we 'd better take charge of his things."
"I should n't be in a hurry about that," said
Or he may have been run over by a train that
he did n't see," said Ned, getting excited, and ex-
amining the rails in search of evidence. If he
were trying to remember all that funny-looking
Greek stuff in some of those books, I should n't
think he would notice a train, or anything else.
And we '11 all have to sit on the coroner's jury.
Poor Jack! I don't believe we can say the train
was to blame, or make it pay damages. I think I
should like to sit near the feet; for he had hand-
some feet, and only wore number six boots. He
was a real good fellow, too. But that '11 take us
out of school one day, anyway."
So you think there is no great loss without
some small gain," said Phaeton.
I did n't say so !" said Ned, a little offended at
this plain interpretation of his last sentence. I
feel as badly as anybody about Jack's death. But,
at any rate, they '11 have to do something with his
property. I suppose, if he had no relations,-and
I never heard of any,-they '11 give it to his best
friends. I think I should like the alarm-clock, and
the chair, and perhaps a few of the tools. What
will you take ?" turning to me.
I think I should like to take his place, if any-
thing," said I.
Ned took a look at the box.
"I tell you what it is," said he, "the prettiest
design for a monument over Jack's grave would be
a box just like that,-all cut in marble, of course,-





with Jack's name and age on the door, and beside
it a signal-pole struck by lightning and broken off
in the middle, or something of that sort."
A slight noise, or else the allusion to the signal-
pole, caused us to look up. There was Jack com-
ing down, with an oil-can in his hand! He had
been at the top oiling the pulleys, and probably had
heard every word we had said, for there was a quiet
smile all over his face.
Good-morning, Jack !" said Phaeton, who sel-
dom lost his presence of mind.
Good-morning, boys I'm glad to see you,"
said Jack.
As soon as Ned and I could recover from our
abashment, we also said good-morning.
"Is there anything I can do for you, to-day?"
said Jack, as he set away the oil-can, observing
that Phaeton had the little frame and a small draw-
ing in his hand.
"Yes, sir," said Phaeton. "I want to get your ad-
vice about a little invention that I've been making."
It 's a new kind of railroad," said Ned; and
we thought you 'd be the one to know all about
railroads. Beats these common railroads all to
nothing. Why, three months after ours is intro-
duced, and the public understand it, they 'll have
to take up this track and sell it for old iron."
Ned had thoroughly identified himself with the
invention, and thought it was as much his as
"But, then," he added, thoughtfully, "that would
spoil your business, Jack. And we should be sorry
to do that."
Jack smiled, and said it did n't matter; he
would n't let his private interests obstruct the march
of improvement.
Phaeton explained the invention to Jack, illus-
trating it with a rubber string stretched on the
frame, just as he had explained it to us.
"I see," said Jack. "Quite a novel idea."
"We have n't yet made up our minds," said
Ned, what sort of depot we '11 have. But it '11 be
either a big tank full of water, or an awful soft
How is that?" said Jack.
"Why, you see," said Ned, "this railroad of
ours is going to go like lightning. There's no
trouble about its going."
"None whatever," said Jack.
"But it's going to stop rather sudden."
How so ? said Jack.
I mean the trains," said Ned. "That is, the
cables. They're going to fetch up with a bang at
the other end. At least, they would, if we had n't
thought of a way to prevent it. Because it
would n't do to break the heads of all the passen-
gers every time."

No," said Jack. "That would be too much." '
"Too much," said Ned. And so, you see,
the depot must be some sort of contrivance to let
'em off easy."
Of course," said Jack.
"And the first thing anybody thinks of is a
bowling-alley, and the pins flying every which way."
"Quite naturally," said Jack.
"And that makes you think of a soft mattress to
stop them. But Fay thinks it would be better, on
some accounts, to drop them into a big tank of
I suppose in winter you would have the water
warmed? said Jack.
"Of course we should; though we had n't
thought of it before," said Ned.
"And that would give the passengers a ride and
a bath, all for the price of one ticket," said Jack.
Certainly; and you see that would be favorable
to the poor," said Ned, willing to indulge in a
"Exactly; a great boon to mankind," said Jack.
"And I think it would not only make them cleaner,
but more religious."
"How so ?" said Ned.
"Well, I think every passenger would feel like
saying his prayers, as the train, or cable, drew near
the getting-off station."
Phaeton and I burst out laughing.
"I'm afraid you're making fun of our inven-
tion," said Ned.
"Not I," said Jack. "I like to encourage the
inventive faculty in boys."
"Well, then, tell us honestly," said Ned,-
"where would you introduce it first? Would you
go to New York, and build it under Broadway at
once ? Or would you go slow, and try it first in this
town, on a rather small scale ?"
"I think I'd go slow," said Jack.
"And where would be the best place to build
"You '11 have to survey the town," said Jack,
"and find where there is the most travel."
"We thought we'd dig the tunnel ourselves,"
'said Ned, in an off-hand way, "and then give a
mortgage on the tunnel, and raise the money to
buy the cable."
"I see you have the true business idea," said
Jack. In that case, I think you 'd better dig it
wherever you find the softest dirt."
"That's worth thinking about," said Ned.
"And now, Jack, I'll tell you what 't is. We
don't want to throw you out of employment; and
when our road 's running, and this one stops, you
shall have a good situation on ours. There wont
be any signal stations, but you may be the train-
dispatcher-the one that chops off the cable."





"Thank you," said Jack. I '11 consider it."
It will probably be good pay," said Ned, "and
it's certain to be lots of fun."
"Oh, there can be no doubt about that," said
Jack, dryly.
Good-morning "
Jack-in-the-Box takes a deep interest in our in-
vention," said Ned, in a low, confidential tone, as
we walked away. I can see that he thinks it's
going to be a great success."
Phaeton burst out laughing.
"What are you laughing about?" said Ned.
"I am laughing to think how Jack-in-the-Box
fooled you to the top of your bent."
What do you mean ? "
I mean that the thing wont do at all; and he
saw it would n't, as soon as he looked at it; but he
thought he would n't say so. He just liked to hear
you talk."
"Do you think so ? said Ned to me..
I'm afraid it's true," said I.
"Well," said Ned, growing a little red in the
face, I don't care. It's no invention of mine, any
way. It was all your idea, Fay."
Oh, was it?" said Phaeton. "When I heard
you talk to Jack-in-the-Box about it, I began to
think it was all yours."
"If I was going to make an invention," said
Ned, "I 'd make one that would work-something
"All right," said Phaeton; you 're at liberty to
do so if you wish. I should be glad if you would."
Well, I will," said Ned. I '11 make one to
beat yours all hollow."

Three or four days afterward, Ned came to me
with a look on his face that showed he had some-
thing important in his mind.
Can you go ?" said he, almost in a whisper.
That depends on where you 're going," said I.
To see Jack-in-the-Box," said he.
"Yes, I always like to go to the Box," said I.
But I 've got to split these kindlings first."
Oh, never mind your kindlings! You can
split those any time. I 've got a sure thing now;
and if Jack says it 's all right, I '11 let you go
Of course, this was more important, than any
Spaltry consideration of lighting the fires next morn-
ing; so I threw down the hatchet, and we started.
I think we'd better go by the postern," said I.
Postern was a word we had found frequently used
in "The Haunted Castle; or, The Spook and the
Spider," and we had looked out its meaning in the
dictionary. Whenever we thought it desirable to
get away from the house without being seen,-as,

for instance, when we were leaving kindlings un-
split,-we climbed over the back fence, and called
it going by the postern."
"All right," said Ned, for in these things he was
a wise boy, and a word to him was sufficient.
"What is it?" said I, as soon as we were fairly
out of sight of the house. Tell me all about it. "
Wait till we get to Jack's," said he.
"Has your Aunt Mercy given you money to
make a muddle of it?" said I.
That troubles me a little-that fifteen dollars,"
said Ned. "You see, we got it honestly; we
thought Fay's invention was going to be a great
thing, and we must have money to start. But now,
if Aunt Mercy knew it was a failure, it would look
to her as if we had swindled her."
Not if you gave her back the money," said I.
But I don't exactly like to do that," said Ned.
"It 's always a good thing to have a little money.
And, besides, she 'd lose faith in me, and think I
could n't invent anything. And next time, when
we had really made a good thing, she 'd think it
was only another failure, and would n't furnish the-
money. That's one reason why I made this inven-
tion that I have in my pocket now. We can use
the money on this, and tell Aunt Mercy we.
changed off from the Underground Railroad to a
better thing."

How do you do to-day, Jack?"
"Pretty well, thank you! How are you. Come
in, boys; I'm glad to see you."
"Would you look at another invention for us ?"'

Certainly; with the greatest pleasure."
I hope it will turn out to be better than the
other-that is, more practical," said Ned. "But
you see, Jack, that was our first invention, and I
suppose we can only improve by practice."
"That is about the only way," said Jack.
"What is your second invention?"


i881. J


Ned drew a bit of paper from his pocket.
The other day," said he, "I heard Father read-
ing a piece in the newspaper about a church that
was struck by lightning, although it had a light-
ning-rod. The reason was that the rod was broken
apart at one place, and nobody had noticed it, or if

"Exactly so," said Ned. "And there you have
it-action and re-action. That's the principle."
I don't think Ned borrowed his style of explana-
tion so much from the school-master as from a young
man who appeared in the streets one day, selling a
sort of stuff to clean the teeth, calling a crowd


they had, they did n't take the trouble to fix it.
People are awful careless about those things. And
so they lost their church. Father says there are a
good many things that spoil lightning-rods. He
says, if there 's rust in the joints they wont work."
That's true," said Jack.
"Well, then, all this set me to thinking whether
I could n't invent a lightning-rod that would be a
sure thing. And here you have it," said Ned, as
he unfolded his paper, with a confident air.
Jack looked at it. I don't understand it," said
he; "you '11 have to explain."
Of course you don't," said Ned. "I shall
Jack said he was all attention.
What does fire do to ice ?" said Ned, taking
on the tone of a school-master.
Melts it," said Jack.
Right," said Ned. And when ice is melted,
it becomes what ?"
"Water," said Jack.
"Right again!" said Ned. "And water does
what to fire ? "
"Puts it. out," said Jack.

around him, and trying it on the teeth of one or
two boys.
"That's all true," said Jack; "but how do you
apply it to lightning-rods ? "
Here is a picture," said Ned, "of a house with
a rod on it. The family think it's all right, and
don't feel afraid when it thunders. But that rod
may be broken somewhere, or may be rusted in the
joints, and they not know it. What then? We
simply fasten a large ball of ice-marked I in the
illustration-to the rod at R-freeze it on tight.
You see it is n't likely there will be any break, or
any rusty joint, between the point of the rod and
the ball."
"Not likely," said Jack.
But there may be one lower down."
"There may be," said Jack; "though there
could n't be one higher down."
Ned was too intent on his invention to notice this
criticism on his expression.
"We'll say a thunder-storm comes up," said
he. "The lightning strikes this rod. What then?
In an instant, in the flash of an eye, the lightning
melts that ball of ice-it becomes water-in another




r88i41 NED A WI. 225

instant that water puts out the lightning-and the
family are safe "
"It would be if there were enough ice," said
Oh, well," said Ned, "if there should happen
to be a little lightning left over that was n't put
out, why, you see, as lightning-rods are generally
in good order, it.would probably be carried off in
the usual manner, without doing any harm."
Jack sat with the paper in his hand, and looked
at it in silence, as if he were spell-bound.
What do you think of it? said Ned.
"I think it 's a work of genius," said Jack.
"I 'm glad you think so," said Ned.
And yet," said Jack, some things that exhibit
great genius don't work well in practice."
"Certainly said Ned. "That was the way
with Fay's Underground Railroad."
Jack smiled, and nodded.
"And now," continued Ned, "how would you
go to work to introduce it? You would n't like to
take it and introduce it to the public yourself, would
you ?-on shares, you know,-you take half of the
profits, and we half."
Jack said his business engagements would n't
permit him to go into it at present.
"Then we must manage it ourselves. Where
would you advise us to put it first ?"
"On a tall hickory-tree in Burke's woods," said
"Why so?" said Ned.
"Because the great trouble's going to be with
the lightning that's left over. You don't know
what that may do."
I 'm afraid the invention does n't look practical
to you," said Ned, after a slight pause.

Before Jack could answer, Isaac Holman appeared
at the door of the Box, with a Latin grammar under
his arm. At that time of day, there was an inter-
val of an hour and a half when no train passed, and
Isaac had arranged to come and take of Jack a daily
lesson in Latin.
"I see it's time for your school to begin; we 'II
finish talking about this some other day," said
Ned, as he hastily thrust the paper into his pocket.
For he did n't want Isaac (nor anybody else, I
guess) to know about it.
"Don't hurry yourself; I can wait a while," said
"To-morrow will do as well for us," said Ned.
Totus dexter!-all right! said Isaac, as we
left the box,.and made room for him to enter.
Isaac had been studying the language only a fort-
night, but was fond of using Latin expressions in
talking to the boys. Yet he was very considerate
about it, and always gave an immediate translation,
as in the remarkable instance just quoted.
As Ned and I walked away, I was the first to
speak. "Ned, I have an idea! That ball of ice
would only stay on in winter."
"I suppose so," said Ned, a little gloomily.
"And nearly all the thunder-storms are in
summer," said I.
"I'm afraid they are," said Ned. "And this
invention is n't worth a cent. It's not any better
than Fay's." And he tore up the paper, and threw
the pieces into the gutter.
Then what will you do with the fifteen dollars?"
said I, after another pause.
"I '11 have to see Aunt Mercy about it," said he.
"But here comes Jimmy the Rhymer. I wonder
if he has anything new to-day."

(An Indian Story from Real Lyfe.)


"NEDAWI !" called her mother, "take your
little brother while I go with your sister for some
wood." Nedawi ran into the tent, bringing back
her little red blanket, but the brown-faced, roly-poly
baby, who had been having a comfortable nap in
spite of being all the while tied straight to his board,
woke with a merry crow just as the mother was
about to attach him, board and all, to Nedawi's neck.
So he was taken from the board instead, and, after
he had kicked in happy freedom for a moment,
Nedawi stood in front of her mother, who placed

Habazhu on the little girl's back, and drew the
blanket over him, leaving his arms free. She next
put into his hand a little hollow gourd, filled with
seeds, which served as a rattle; Nedawi held both
ends of the blanket tightly in front of her, and was
then ready to walk around with the little man.
Where should she go? Yonder was a group of
young girls playing a game of konci, or dice. The
dice were five plum-seeds, scorched black, and had
little stars and quarter-moons instead of numbers.
She went over and stood by the group, gently rock-





ing herself from side to side, pretty much as white
children do when reciting the multiplication table.
The girls would toss up the wooden bowl, letting it
drop with a gentle thud on the pillow beneath, the
falling dice making a pleasant clatter which the
baby liked to hear. The stakes were a little heap
of beads, rings, and bracelets. The laughter and
exclamations of the girls, as some successful toss
brought down the dice three stars and two quarter-

wanted to stay and see who would win. She went
to her mother's tent, but found it deserted. Her
father and brothers had gone to the chase. A
herd of buffalo had been seen that morning, and
all the men in the tribe had gone, and would not
be back till night. Her mother, her sister, and the
women of the household had gone to the river for
wood and water. The tent looked enticingly cool,
with the sides turned up to let the breeze sweep


moons (the highest throw), made Nedawi wish that
she, too, were a young girl, and could win and wear
all those pretty things. How gay she would look!
Just then, the little glittering heap caught baby's
eye. He tried to wriggle out of the blanket to get
to it, but Nedawi held tight. Then he set up a yell.
Nedawi walked away very reluctantly, because she

through, and the straw mats and soft robes seemed
to invite her to lie down on them and dream the
afternoon away, as she was too apt to do. She did
not yield to the temptation, however, for she knew
Mother would not like it, but walked over to her
cousin Metai's tent. She found her cousin "keep-
ing house" with a number of little girls, and stood



iSS'.] NED AWl. 227

to watch them while they put up little tents, just
large enough to hold one or two girls.
"Nedawi, come and play," said Metai. "You
can make the fire and cook. I '11 ask Mother for
something to cook."
"But what shall I do with Habazhu?" said
"I '11 tell you. Put him in my tent, and make
believe he 's our little old grandfather."
Forthwith he was transferred from Nedawi's back
to the little tent. But Habazhu had a decided ob-
jection to staying in the dark little place, where he
could not see anything, and crept out of the door
on his hands and knees. Nedawi collected a little
heap of sticks, all ready for the fire, and went off
to get a fire-brand to light it with. While she was
gone, Habazhu crawled up to a bowl of water
which stood by the intended fire-place, and began
dabbling in it with his chubby little hands, splash-
ing the water all over the sticks prepared for the
fire. Then he thought he would like a drink. He
tried to lift the bowl in both hands, but only suc-
ceeded in spilling, the water over himself and the
When Nedawi returned, she stood aghast; then,
throwing down the brand, she took her little brother
by the shoulders and, I am sorry to say, shook him
violently, jerked him up, and dumped him down
by the door of the little tent from which he had
crawled. "You bad little boy !" she said. "It's
too bad that I have to take care of you when I
want to play."
You see, she was no more perfect than any little
white girl who gets into a temper now and then.
The baby's lip quivered, and he began to cry.
Metai said to Nedawi: I think it 's real mean for
you to shake him, when he does n't know any
Metai picked up Baby and tried to comfort him.
She kissed him over and over, and talked to
him in baby language. Nedawi's conscience, if
the little savage could be said to have any, was
troubling her. She loved her baby brother
dearly, even though she did get out of patience
with him now and then.
I '11 put a clean little shirt on him and pack him
again," said she, suddenly. Then she took off his
little wet shirt, wrung it out, and spread it on the
tall grass to dry in the sun. Then she went home,
and, going to a pretty painted skin in which her
mother kept his clothes, she selected the red shirt,
which she thought was the prettiest. She was in
such a hurry, however, that she forgot to close and
tie up the skin again, and she carelessly left his
clean shirts lying around as she had laid them out.
When Baby was on her back again, she walked
around with him, giving directions and overseeing

the other girls at their play, determined to do that
rather than nothing.
The other children were good-natured, and took
her ordering as gracefully as they could. Metai
made the fire in a new place, and then went to
ask her mother to give her something to cook.
Her mother gave her a piece of dried buffalo meat,
as hard as a chip and as brittle as glass. Metai
broke it up into small pieces, and put the pieces
into a little tin pail of water, which she hung over
the fire. "Now," she said, "when the meat is
cooked and the soup is made, I will call you all to
a feast, and Habazhu shall be the chief."
They all laughed. But alas for human calcula-
tions During the last few minutes, a shy little
girl, with soft, wistful black eyes, had been watch-
ing them from a little distance. .She had on a
faded, shabby blanket and a ragged dress.
S"Metai," said Nedawi, "let 's ask that girl to
play with us; she looks so lonesome."
"Well," said Metai, doubtfully, "I don't care;
but my mother said she did n't want me to play
with ragged little girls."
S"My father says we must be kind to poor little
girls, and help them all we can; so 1 'm going to
play with her if you don't," said Nedawi, loftily.
Although Metai was the hostess, Nedawi was
the leading spirit, and. had her own way, as usual.
She walked up to the little creature and said,
"Come and play with us, if you want to." The
little girl's eyes brightened, and she laughed. Then
she suddenly drew from under her blanket a pretty
bark basket, filled with the most delicious red and
yellow plums. "My brother picked them in the
woods, and I give them to you," was all she said.
Nedawi managed to free one hand, and took the
offering with an exclamation of delight, which drew
the other girls quickly around. Instead of saying
" Oh Oh! as you would have said, they cried
"Hin Hin which expressed their feeling quite
as well, perhaps.
"Let us have them for our feast," said Metai,
taking them.
Little Indian children are taught to share every-
thing with one another, so it did not seem strange
to Nedawi to have her gift looked on as common
property. But, while the attention of the little
group had been concentrated on the matter in hand,
a- party of mischievous boys, passing by, caught
sight of the little tents and the tin pail hanging
over the fire. Simultaneously, they set up a war-
whoop and, dashing into the deserted camp, they
sent the tent-poles scattering right and left, and
snatching up whatever they could lay hands on, in-
cluding the tin pail and its contents, they retreated.
The little girls, startled by the sudden raid on their
property, looked up. Rage possessed their little





souls. Giving shrieks of anger, they started in
pursuit. What did Nedawi do? She forgot plums,
baby, and everything. The ends of the blanket
slipped from her grasp, and she darted forward like
an arrow after her companions.
Finding the chase hopeless, the little girls came
to a stand-still, and some of them began to cry.
The boys had stopped, too; and seeing the tears
flow, being good-hearted boys in spite of their
mischief, they surrendered at discretion. They
threw back the articles they had taken, not daring
to come near. They did not consider it manly
for big boys like themselves to strike or hurt little
girls, even though they delighted in teasing them,
and they knew from experience that they would be
at the mercy of the offended party if they went near
enough to be touched. The boy who had the
dinner brought the little pail which had contained
it as near as he dared, and setting it down ran
"You have spilt all our soup. There's hardly
any of it left. You bad boys!" said one of the girls.
They crowded around with lamentations over
their lost dinner. The boys began to feel re-
"Let's go into the woods and get them some
plums to make up for it."
Say, girls, hand us your pail, and we '1l fill it
up with plums for you."
So the affair was settled.
*But, meanwhile, what became of the baby left so
unceremoniously in the tall grass ? First he opened
his black eyes wide at this style of treatment. He was
not used to it. Before he had time, however, to make
up his mind whether to laugh or cry, his mother
came to the rescue. She had just come home and
thrown the wood off her back, when she caught
sight of Nedawi dropping him. She ran to pick
him up, and finding him unhurt, kissed him over
and over. Some of the neighbors had run up to
see what was the matter. She said to them:
I never did see such a thoughtless, heedless
child as my Nedawi. She really has 'no ears.' I
don't know what in the world will ever become of
her. When something new interests her, she for-
gets everything else. It was just like her to act
in this way."
Then they all laughed, and one of them said:
"Never mind-she will grow wiser as she grows
older," after which consoling remark they went
away to their own tents.
It was of no use to call Nedawi back. She was
too far off.
Habazhu was given over to the care of the nurse,
who had just returned from her visit. An hour or
two after, Nedawi came home.
"Mother!" she exclaimed, as she saw her

mother frying bread for supper, "I am so hungry.
Can I have some of that bread ?"
"Where is your little brother?" was the unex-
pected reply.
Nedawi started. Where had she left him? She
tried to think.
"Why, Mother, the last I remember I was pack-
ing him, and-and oh, Mother! you know where
he is. Please tell me."
When you find him and bring him back to me,
perhaps I shall forgive you," was the cold reply.
This was dreadful. Her mother had never
treated her in that way before. She burst into tears,
and started out to find Habazhu, crying all the way.
She knew that her mother knew where baby was,
or she would not have taken it so coolly; and she
knew also that her mother expected her to bring
him home. As she went stumbling along through
the grass, she felt herself seized and held in some-
body's strong arms, and a great, round, hearty
voice said:
"What's the matter with my little niece? Have
all her friends deserted her that she is wailing like
this? Or has her little dog died? I thought
Nedawi was a brave little woman."
It was her uncle Two Crows. She managed to
tell him, through her sobs, the whole story. She
knew, if she told him herself, he would not laugh
at her about it, for he would sympathize in her
troubles, though he was a great tease. When she
ceased, he said to her: Well, your mother wants
you to be more careful next time, I suppose; and,
by the way, I think I saw a little boy who looked
very much like Habazhu, in my tent."
Sure enough, she found him there with his nurse.
When she got home with them, she found her
mother,-her own dear self,-and, after giving her
a big hug, she sat quietly down by the fire, resolved
to be very good in the future. She did not sit long,
however, for soon a neighing of horses, and the
running of girls and children through the camp to
meet the hunters, proclaimed their return. All
was bustle and gladness throughout the camp.
There had been a successful chase, and the led
horses were laden with buffalo meat. These horses
were led by the young girls to the tents to be un-
packed, while the boys took the hunting-horses to
water and tether in the grass. Fathers, as they
dismounted, took their little children in their arms,
tired as they were. Nedawi was as happy as any
in the camp, for her seventeen-year-old brother,
White Hawk, had killed his first buffalo, and had
declared that the skin should become Nedawi's
robe, as soon as it was tanned and painted.
What a pleasant evening that was to Nedawi,
when the whole family sat around a great fire,
roasting the huge buffalo ribs, and she played with




her little brother Habazhu, stopping now and then
to listen to the adventures of the day, which her
father and brothers were relating! The scene was
truly a delightful one, the camp-fires lighting up
the pleasant family groups here and there, as the
flames rose and fell. The bit of prairie where
the tribe had camped had a clear little stream run-
ning through it, with shadowy hills around, while
over all hung the clear, star-lit sky. It seemed as
if nature were trying to protect the poor waifs of
humanity clustered in that spot. Nedawi felt the
beauty of the scene, and was just thinking of nest-
ling down by her father to enjoy it dreamily, when
her brothers called for a dance. The little drum
was brought forth, and Nedawi danced to its
accompaniment and her brothers' singing. She
danced gravely, as became a little maiden whose
duty it was to entertain the family circle. While
she was dancing, a little boy, about her own age,
was seen hovering near. He would appear, and,
when spoken to, would disappear in the tall, thick
It was Mischief,. a playmate of Nedawi's. Every-
body called him Mischief," because mischief ap-
peared in every action of his. It shone from his
eyes and played all over his face.
You little plague," said White Hawk; "what
do you want?"
For answer, the "little plague turned a somer-
sault just out of White Hawk's reach. When the
singing was resumed, Mischief crept quietly up
behind White Hawk, and, keeping just within the
shadow, mimicked Nedawi's grave dancing, and
he looked so funny that Nedawi suddenly laughed,
which was precisely Mischief's object. But before
he could get out of reach, as he intended, Thunder,
Nedawi's other brother, who had been having an eye
on him, clutched tight hold of him, and Mischief
was landed in front of the fire-place, in full view of
the whole family. "Now," said Thunder, "you
are my prisoner. You stay there and dance with
Nedawi." Mischief knew there was no escape, so
he submitted with a good grace. He went through
all sorts of antics, shaking his fists in the air, twirl-
ing suddenly around and putting his head close to
the ground, keeping time with the accompaniment
through it all.
Nedawi danced staidly on, now and then frown-
ing at him; but she knew of old that he was
irrepressible. When Nedawi sat down, he threw
into her lap a little dark something and was off like
a shot, yelling at the top of his voice, either in
triumph at his recent achievements or as a practice
for future war-whoops.
Nedawi, what is it?" said her mother.
Nedawi took it to the fire, when the something
proved to be a poor little bird.

I thought he had something in his hand when
he was shaking his fist in the air," said Nedawi's
sister, Nazainza, laughing.
"Poor little thing !" said Nedawi; it is almost
She put its bill into the water, and tenderly tried
to make it drink. The water seemed to revive it
I'll wrap it up in something warm," said Ned-
awi, "and may be it will sing in the morning."
Let me see it," said Nedawi's father.
Nedawi carried it to him.
Don't you feel sorry for it, daughter ?"
Yes, Father," she answered.
"Then take it to the tall grass, yonder, and put
it down where no one will step on it, and, as you
put it down, say: 'God, I give you back your little
bird. As I pity it, pity me.' "
"And will God take care of it?" said Nedawi,
reverently, and opening her black eyes wide at the
"Yes," said her father.
"Well, I will do as you say," said Nedawi, and
she walked slowly out of the tent.
Then she took it over to the tall, thick grass,
and making a nice, cozy little nest for it, left it
there, saying just what her father had told her to
say. When she came back, she said:
"Father, I said it."
"That was right, little daughter," and Nedawi
was happy at her father's commendation.
Nedawi always slept with her grandmother and
sister, exactly in the middle of the circle formed
by the wigwam, with her feet to the fire-place.
That place in the tent was always her grandmother's
place, just as the right-hand side of the tent was
her father's and mother's, and the left-hand her
brothers'. There never was any confusion. The
tribe was divided into bands, and every band was
composed of several families. Each band had its
chief, and the whole tribe was ruled by the head-
chief, who was Nedawi's father. He had his own
particular band besides. Every tent had its own
place in the band, and every band had its own
particular place in the great circle forming the
camp. Each chief was a representative, in council,
of the men composing his band, while over all was
the head-chief. The executive power was vested in
the "soldiers' lodge," and when decisions were
arrived at in council, it was the duty of its soldiers
to execute all its orders, and punish all violations
of the tribal laws. The office of "town-crier was
held by several old men, whose duty it was "to cry
out" through the camp the announcements of
councils, invitations to feasts, and to give notice of
anything in which the whole tribe were called on
to take part.





Well, before Nedawi went to sleep this evening,
she hugged her grandmother, and said to her:
"Please tell me a story."
Her grandmother said:
I cannot, because it is summer. In the winter
I will tell you stories."
"Why not in summer? said Nedawi.
"Because, when people tell stories and legends
in summer, the snakes come around to listen. You
don't want any snakes to come near us to-night, do
But," said Nedawi, "I have not seen any snakes
for the longest times, and if you tell it right softly
they wont hear you."
Nedawi," said her mother, don't bother your
grandmother. She is tired and wants to sleep."
Thereupon Grandmother's heartfelt sorry for her
pet, and she said to Nedawi:
Well, if you will keep still and go right to sleep
when I am through, I will tell you how the turkeys
came to have red eyelids.'
Once upon a time, there was an old woman
living all alone with her grandson, Rabbit. He
was noted for his cunning and for his tricks, which
he played on every one. One day, the old woman
said to him, Grandson, I am hungry for some
meat.' Then the boy took his bow and arrows,
and in the evening he came home with a deer on
his shoulders, which he threw at her feet, and said,
'Will that satisfy you ? She said, 'Yes, grand-
son.' They lived on that meat several days, and,
when it was gone, she said to him again, 'Grand-
son, I am hungry for some meat.' This time he
went without his bow and arrows, but he took a
bag with him. When he got into the woods, he
called all the turkeys together. They gathered
around him, and he said to them: 'I am going to
sing to you, while you shut your eyes and dance.
If one of you opens his eyes while I am singing,
his eyelids shall turn red.' Then they all stood
in a row, shut their eyes, as he had told them, and

began to dance, and this is the song he sang to
them while they danced:
"' Ha! wadamba thike
Inshta zhida, inshta zhida,
Imba theonda,
Imba theonda'

[The literal translation is:

"Ho! he who peeps
Red eyes, red eyes,
Flap your wings,
Flap your wings."]

"Now, while they were dancing away, with their
eyes shut, the boy took them, one by one, and put
them into his bag. But the last one in the row
began to think it very strange that his companions
made no noise, so he gave one peep, screamed in
his fright, 'They are making 'way with us and
flew away. The boy took his bag of turkeys home
to his grandmother, but ever after that the turkeys
had red eyelids."
Nedawi gave a sigh of satisfaction when the story
was finished, and would have asked for more, but
just then her brothers came in from a dance which
they had been attending in some neighbor's tent.
She knew her lullaby time had come. Her brothers
always sang before they slept either love or dancing
songs, beating time on their breasts, the regular
beats making a sort of accompaniment for the sing-
ing. Nedawi loved best of all to hear her father's
war-songs, for he had a musical voice, and few
were the evenings when she had gone to sleep with-
out hearing a lullaby from her father or brothers.
Among the Indians, it is the fathers who sing,
instead of the mothers. Women sing only on state
occasions, when the tribe have a great dance, or at
something of the sort. Mothers "croon" their
babies to sleep, instead of singing.
Gradually the singing ceased, and the brothers
slept as well as Nedawi, and quiet reigned over the
whole camp.









~-L-~ ~~1l F~fj~ ~~ ,---

l _- i ... . -
,, I= ;-- -=- 4 = .. .-. -_- ---- -

SAID Brier-Rose's mother to the naughty Brier-Rose:
" What will become of you, my child, the Lord Almighty knows.
You will not scrub the kettles, and you will not touch the broom;
You never sit a minute still at spinning-wheel or loom."

Thus grumbled. in the morning, and grumbled late at eve,
The good-wife as she bustled with pot and tray and sieve;
But Brier-Rose, she laughed and she cocked her dainty head:
"Why, I shall marry, Mother dear," full :r-.:r!ly, she said.

" You marry, saucy Brier-Rose! The man, .he is not found
To marry such a worthless wench, these seven leagues around."
But Brier-Rose, she laughed and she trilled a merry lay:
"Perhaps he 'll come, my Mother dear, from eight leagues away."

The good-wife with a humphh and'a sigh forsook the battle,
And flung her pots and pails about with much vindictive rattle:




" 0 Lord, what sin did I commit in youthful days, and wild,
That thou hast punished me in age with such a wayward child?"

Up stole the girl on tiptoe, so that none her step could hear,
And laughing pressed an airy kiss behind the good-wife's ear.
And she, as e'er relenting, sighed: "Oh, Heaven only knows
Whatever will become of you, my naughty Brier-Rose! "

The sun was high and summer sounds were teeming in the air;
The clank of scythes, the cricket's whir, and swelling wood-notes rare,
From field and copse and meadow; and through the open door
Sweet, fragrant whiffs of new-mown hay the idle breezes bore.

Then Brier-Rose grew pensive, like a bird of thoughtful mien,
Whose little life has problems among the branches green.
She heard the river brawling where the tide was swift and strong,
She heard the summer singing its strange, alluring song.

And out she skipped the meadows o'er and gazed into the sky;
Her heart o'erbrimmed with gladness, she scarce herself knew why,
And to a merry tune she hummed, "Oh, Heaven only knows
Whatever will become of the naughty Brier-Rose "

Whene'er a thrifty matron this idle maid espied,
She shook her'head in warning, and scarce her wrath could hide;
For girls were made for housewives, for spinning-wheel and loom,
And not to drink the sunshine and wild-flower's sweet perfume.

And oft the maidens cried, when the Brier-Rose went by,
"You cannot knit a stocking, and you cannot make a pie."
But Brier-Rose, as was her wont, she cocked her curly head:
" But I can sing a pretty song," full merrily she said.

And oft the young lads shouted, when they saw the maid at play:
" Ho, good-for-nothing Brier-Rose, how do you do to-day?"
Then she shook her tiny fist; to her cheeks the color flew:
" However much you coax me, I '11 never dance with you."


THUS flew the. years light-winged over Brier-Rose's head,
Till she was twenty summers old and yet remained unwed.
And all the parish wondered: The Lord Almighty knows
Whatever will become of that naughty Brier-Rose! "

And while they wondered came the Spring a-dancing o'er the hills;
Her breath was warmer than of yore, and all the mountain rills,
With their tinkling and their rippling and their rushing, filled the air,
And the misty sounds of water forth-welling everywhere.

And in the valley's depth, like a lusty beast of prey,
The river leaped and roared aloud and tossed its mane of spray;
Then hushed again its voice to a softly plashing croon,
As dark it rolled beneath the sun and white beneath the' moon.

It was a merry sight to see the lumber as it whirled
Adown the tawny eddies that hissed and seethed and swirled,




Now shooting through the rapids and, with a reeling swing,
Into the foam-crests diving like an animated thing.

But in the narrows of the rocks, where o'er a steep incline
The waters plunged, and wreathed in foam the dark boughs of the pine,
The lads kept watch with shout and song, and sent each straggling beam
A-spinning down the rapids, lest it should lock the stream.

AND yet-methinks I hear it now-wild voices in the-night,
A rush of feet, a dog's harsh bark, a torch's flaring light,
And wandering gusts of dampness, and 'round us far and nigh,
A throbbing boom of water like a pulse-beat in the sky.

The dawn just pierced the pallid east with spears of gold and red,
As we, with boat-hooks in our hands, toward the narrows sped.
And terror smote us: for we heard the mighty tree-tops sway,
And thunder, as of chariots, and hissing showers of spray.

"Now, lads," the sheriff shouted, "you are strong, like Norway's rock:
A hundred crowns I give to him who breaks the lumber-lock!
For if another hour go by, the angry waters' spoil
Our homes will be, and fields, and our weary years of toil."

We looked each at the other; each hoped his neighbor would
Brave death and danger for his home, as valiant Norsemen should.
But at our feet the brawling tide expanded like a lake,
And whirling beams came shooting on, and made the firm rock quake.




Two hundred crowns the sheriff cried, and breathless stood the crowd.
"Two hundred crowns, my bonny lads! in anxious tones and loud.
But not a man came forward, and no one spoke or stirred,
And nothing save the thunder of the cataract was heard.

But as with trembling hands and with fainting hearts we stood,
We spied a little curly head emerging from the wood.
We heard a little snatch of a merry little song,
And saw the dainty Brier-Rose come dancing through the throng.

An angry murmur rose from the people 'round about.
Fling her into the river !" we heard the matrons shout;
Chase her away, the silly thing; for God himself scarce knows
Why ever he created that worthless Brier-Rose."

Sweet Brier-Rose, she heard their cries; a little pensive smile
Across her fair face flitted that might a stone beguile;
And then she gave her pretty head a roguish little cock:
Hand me a boat-hook, lads," she said; I think I '11 break the lock."

Derisive shouts of laughter broke from throats of young and old:
Ho good-for-nothing Brier-Rose, your tongue was ever bold."
And, mockingly, a boat-hook into her hands was flung,
When, lo! into the river's midst with daring leaps she sprung!

We saw her dimly through a mist of dense and blinding spray;
From beam to beam she skipped, like a water-sprite at play.
And now and then faint gleams we caught of color through the mist:
A crimson waist, a golden head, a little dainty wrist.

In terror pressed the people to the margin of the hill,
A hundred breaths were bated, a hundred hearts stood still.
For, hark! from out the rapids came a strange and creaking sound,
And then a crash of thunder which shook the very ground.

The waters hurled the lumber mass down o'er the rocky steep.
We heard a muffled rumbling and a rolling in the deep;
We saw a tiny form which the torrent swiftly bore
And flung into the wild abyss, where it was seen no more.

Ah, little naughty Brier-Rose, thou couldst nor weave nor spin;
Yet thou couldst do a nobler deed than all thy mocking kin;
Tor thou hadst courage e'en to die, and by thy death to save
A thousand farms and lives from the fury of the wave.

And yet the adage lives, in the valley of thy birth,
When wayward children spend their days in heedless play and mirth,
Oft mothers say, half smiling, half sighing, Heaven knows
Whatever will become of the naughty Brier-Rose !"

~58s.] A SNOW-BATTLE. 235



IN the January number of ST. NICHOLAS last
winter, I told you how to build snow-forts, and how
to make shields and ammunition-sleds. I also sug-
gested rules to govern snow-ball warfare. To give
some faint idea of the excitement and interest of
the sport, I will attempt to describe from memory
a snow-battle in which I took part when a boy.
It was a year when the Indian-summer had been
prolonged into the winter. Christmas had come



and gone and a new year begun, but no snow had
fallen on the river bank or neighboring hills.
Such was the condition of things one January
morning, in a Kentucky town, upon the banks of
the Ohio River, where I and some sixty other boys
were gathered in a little, frame school-house.
We had about made up our minds that old Jack
Frost was a humbug, and winter a myth; but

when the bell tapped for recess, the first boy out
gave a shout which passed from mouth to mouth,
until it became a universal cheer as we reached
the play-ground, for, floating airily down from a
dull, gray sky came myriads of white snow-flakes !
Winter had come! Jack Frost was no longer a
humbug Before the bell again recalled us to our
study, the ground was whitened with snow, and the
school divided into two opposing armies. That
night was a busy one. All hands set to work man-
ufacturing ammunition-sleds and shields for the
coming battle. It was my fortune to be chosen
as one of the garrison of the fort. There was not
a boy late next morning,-in fact, when the
teachers arrived to open the school, they found all
the scholars upon the play-grounds, rolling huge
snow-balls. All night the snow had continued
to fall, and it was now quite deep. When we
went out at noon, a beautifully modeled fort of
snowy whiteness stood ready for us, and from a
mound in the center floated the battle-flag.
Our company took their places inside the fortifi-
cations. We could see the enemy gathered around
their captain at their camp, some two hundred
yards distant, their ammunition-sleds loaded with
snow-balls. The lieutenant bore their battle-flag.
Our teachers showed their interest by standing
shivering with wet feet in the deep snow to watch
the battle. At a blast from a tin horn, on rushed
the foe! They separated, and came in two divi-
sions, approaching us from the left and right.
Now, boys !" cried our captain. "Don't throw
a ball until they are within range."
Then, calling the pluckiest amongst us, a flaxen-
haired country-boy, to his side, he whispered a
word or two and pointed to the flag in the enemy's
camp. The boy, who had been nicknamed
"Daddy," on account of his old-looking face,
slipped quietly over the rear wall of the fort,
dodged behind a snow-drift, and then behind a
fence, and was lost to sight. Forward marched
the enemy, their battle-flag borne in advance of
the party to the right. Their captain was at the
head of the division to the left.
Having engaged our attention on the two flanks,
where we stood ready to receive them, as they
neared us, by a quick and well executed maneu-
ver, rushing obliquely toward each other, the two
divisions unexpectedly joined, and advanced, shield
to shield, with the ammunition-sleds in the rear.
It was in vain we pelted them with snow-balls;





on they came, encouraged by a cheer from the
teachers and some spectators who by this time
had gathered near the school-house.
Three times had our noble captain been tumbled
from his perch upon the mound in the center of
the fort, when another burst of applause from the
spectators announced some new development, and,
as we looked, we could see "Daddy" with the
colors of the enemy's camp in his arms, his tow
hair flying in the wind, as he ran for dear life.
In an instant, the line of the enemy was all in
confusion; some ran to head off "Daddy," while
others in their excitement stood and shouted. It
was our turn now, and we pelted their broken ranks
with snow until they looked like animated snow-
men. Another shout, and we looked around to
find our captain down and the hands of one of the
besieging party almost upon our flag. It was the
work of a second to pitch the intruder upon his
back outside the fort. Then came the tug of war.
A rush was made to capture our. standard, several
of our boys were pulled out of the fort and taken

prisoners, and the capture of the fort seemed in-
evitable. Again and again a number of the enemy,
among whom was their color-bearer, gained the
top of our breastworks, and again and again were
they tumbled off, amid a shower of snow-balls
that forced them to retire to gain breath and clear
their eyes from the snow. Once, their lieutenant,
with the red-bordered battle-flag, had actually suc-
ceeded in reaching the mound upon which stood
our colors, when a combined attack that nearly re-
sulted in his being made prisoner, drove him
from the fort to gather strength for another rush.
"Daddy" was now a prisoner, and the recaptured
flag again floated over the enemy's camp, when
the school-bell called us, fresh and glowing with
exercise and healthful excitement, to our lessons.
The battle was left undecided, and our fort was soon
captured by a force stronger than any our com-
panions were able to bring against it, for a warm
south wind sprang up from the lowlands down the
river, our fortification quickly yielded to its insidi-
ous attack, and the snow-campaign was over.

~'-~''""--~"'-= ~ fr
~i t- xr~~-,--~~~~~-; Li





,.', A DEAR little girl of Nantucket,
Was sure she could sail in a bucket;
S -.' The wind was quite strong,
S.' And she sailed right along,
S---" Did this dear little girl of Nantucket.

... . _-- -~--,-* _7




"WISH you a happy New Year, boys "
"Happy New Year!" responded three clear
trebles, and the loudest of them added:
Going to make calls to-day, Uncle Fred? "
"Of course I am, Johnny," responded the rosy,
frosty-whiskered, middle-aged gentleman they were
talking to, as he opened the door of his carriage.
"What are you and your friends going to do?"
"We 're going to make calls, too," sang out one
of Johnny's comrades, -"he and I and Tracy
"What, is Tom Fitch going with you? Where
are you going to call?"
"Everywhere," sturdily replied Tom Fitch, with
a hitch at his neck-tie. "All around the block."
"You are, are you! Have you any cards, for
places where they 're not at home ?"
"Yes, sir, we 've cards for everybody."
"Indeed! Let me see them."
Uncle Fred's good-humored face was all a broad
grin as he held out his hand, for the two smaller
boys could not have been much more than eight
years old, and Johnny Cook himself, their head
man, was barely ten.

I wrote my own cards," said Johnny, with proud
self-satisfaction, as he dragged a handful of bits of
white pasteboard from his coat-pocket.
"Tip-top exclaimed Uncle Fred; only you
should always spell your name in one way.
J-o-n-n-i is n't nearly as good as J-h-o-n-y, and
that one 's J-o-n-e. But they 'll all do."
"Mine are better than his," said Tom. "Mother
gave me some of her old ones; and so did sister
Belle; and Tracy Plumb has some of his own
father's. Show 'em to him, Tracy."
"That is grand! said Uncle Fred. Now you
must always send your cards in ahead of you, so
they '11 know who 's coming."
He was getting very red in the face just then,
and the boys did not hear him mutter, as he hurriedly
stepped into his carriage and drove off:
"Must n't let them see me laugh. Might scare
'em out of it and spoil the fun. But should n't I
like to be somewhere when those three come in ? "
There were no signs of laughter on the faces of
Johnny Cook, Tracy Plumb, and Tom Fitch. It
was decidedly a serious business for them, and they
marched steadily away up the street.





"Where '11 we call first?" said Tom.
"Let Johnny tell. He knows," said Tracy.
"There's a basket on Mr. Jones's door-bell, boys.
We '11 go there first. That 's to put our cards in."
Up the steps they went, and the bell was duly
rung, but it had to be pulled again before any one
came to the door.
"Well, thin, what is it? What do yiz want ?"
"Why, Biddy," exclaimed Tom, "we're call-
ing Did n't you know it was New Year's day ?"
"It's calling' ye are? An' did n't ye see the
baskit ? Mrs. Jones is n't at home the day."
"Oh!" said Johnny; "she's out making her
own calls. Give Biddy your cards, boys."
"Howld on, thin, very wan of yiz, till I show
her thim cards."
I thought you said she was n't at home ?"
"'Dade an' she is n't; but I 'd rather lose me
place than not have her luk at thim. Shtand
where yiz are till I come."
The Jones family were too near neighbors for
Biddy not to know those three very young gentle-
men; and in a moment more, a nice-looking lady
upstairs was saying to herself:
"J-o-n-n-y, Johnny, C-o-o-o-k-e, Cook, and Miss
Arabella Fitch, and Mr. Marmaduke Plumb --"
"It's the three b'yes, mum! exclaimed Biddy,
with her plump sides shaking with fun. "Sure, an'
it's calls they're making. "
"Bring them in, Biddy. Call up the children,
and bring a plate of cake. Quick as ever you can.
I '11 come right down to the parlor."
She was there, sure enough, just in time to hear
Tracy say: There, Tom, I told you Johnny Cook
knew. And Mrs. Jones would n't let Biddy tell
stories about her."
"Wish you a happy New Year, young gentle-
men. Have a chair, Mr. Cook. Please be seated,
Mr. Plumb and Mr. Fitch. Our young people will
be here in a moment."
We 're not calling on the children to-day," said
Johnny, but you might let them come in."
And in they came, a round half dozen of little
Joneses, and Biddy after with a big plate of cake.
"Tom," whispered Tracy, "Johnny said we
must n't eat too much in any one place."
"I '11 put the rest of mine in my pocket."
And so he did; but it was a good while before
Mrs. Jones got through asking them about their
plans for the day, and after that it was hard work
to keep Ben Jones from going with them. In fact,
the moment they were out of doors again, Ben sat
down in a corner and began to howl over it, so
that he had to stay in the corner till dinner-time.
"Where '11 we go now, Johnny? "
"Judge Curtin's is the biggest house on the
blpck, boys, and he has n't any children."

That 's the place. They '11 have ice-cream
there, see if they don't."
But the moment the bell of Judge Curtin's door
was pulled, the door swung open wide, and there
stood his big waiter, in a swallow-tailed coat and
white cravat, looking down in wonder on his
diminutive guests. It was in vain for Johnny Cook
to look big and hold his head up as he handed out
the cards, and Tom and Tracy edged a little
behind him.
"Vot is dis ? You poys vant sometings?"
"New Year's calls," explained Johnny. "Are
the ladies at home ? "
"So? Very goot. Valk right in. I dake in
dose card, too. De madame vill be proud to see
you. Valk in."
"Johnny knows," muttered Tom to Tracy.
"They '11 have cream here."
May be some candy, too."
But the big waiter was bowing them into the
parlor now, where Mrs. Curtin and her grown-up
daughters were entertaining quite an array of their
gentlemen friends, and Johnny whispered back:
Hush, boys There 's a table, and it's full."
A very large and stately lady was Mrs. Curtin,
and it seemed to the three new-comers that-every-
body in that room was at least a size or two larger
than common; but Johnny Cook led them on
bravely, and all the ladies bowed very low when
they said: Wish you a happy New Year."
"I am acquainted with Mr. Cook," said Mrs.
Curtin, as she held out her hand to him; "but
which of you is Mr. Marmaduke Plumb ?"
"That's my papa, ma'am, and I 'm Tracy."
"Oh, you are making his calls for him? "
"No, ma'am; he's out, too, but I use some of
his cards."
"Exactly. I see. And this is Miss Arabella
Fitch ? "
"Please, ma'am, if you '11 give me back Belle's
card, I '11 give you one of Mother's," said Tom, a
little doubtfully.
Oh, this is just as good. But I must introduce
you to the company, while Pierre is getting you!
some refreshments. Plenty of cream, Pierre, and
some confectionery."
That 's it," whispered Tom to Tracy, and the
latter answered: "Hush, Tom Johnny knows."
It was remarkable how very polite were all those
tall ladies and gentlemen. One great, thin, yel-
low-whiskered man, in particular, kept them so
long with his questions, that Tom at last felt com-
pelled to remark: "Don't talk to him any more,
Johnny; the ice-cream '11 be all melted."
"So it will," said Mrs. Curtin. "Do let them
off, Mr. Grant. Were you never a boy ?-I mean,
a very young gentleman? "





"Never," said Mr. Grant. "I was always old
enough to want to eat my cream before it melted.
Come, boys, I 'll see you through. I like to associ-
ate with fellows of my own age. Come on."
He was very grave and dignified about it, but
between him and Pierre and Mrs. Curtin, Johnny
Cook was compelled to say to his friends:
"We must stop eating, boys, or we can't be
polite in the next house."
But he made no objection to Mr. Grant putting
confectionery in their pockets, and then the whole
company bowed, as Pierre showed them the way to
the front door. They wondered what he meant, as
he smiled in their faces and said:

The door was opened by a gentleman with a.
coffee-colored face and curly hair, and who could-
not have been more than twice as old as Tom.
"Is dey anybody took sick at your house ?"
Sick? No," said Johnny. "It 's New Year's.
calls. Take our cards to Mrs. Micklin."
"She knows my mother," Tom had said to'
Johnny, "and I 'll send in her card instead of
Mrs. Micklin was a little, black-eyed woman, with.
a nose that was almost too sharply pointed, and.
when the coffee-colored youth handed her those-
three cards, her first remark was:
Julius Julius Cesar! How often have I for--


Bonjour, mues enfants."
"What 's a bunjer ?" asked Tom.
"Johnny knows," began Tracy; but their leader
was thinking of something else just then.
"Can you eat anymore, boys? I can, if we
walk a little."
They said they thought they could.
"Then we '11 go to Dr. Micklin's. He tended
our baby when it had the measles."
Do doctors have any New Year's day? "
Don't you s'pose Johnny knows, Tom ?" said
Tracy Plumb. Of course they do."
The doctor lived in a big brick house on a cor-
ner, nearly two blocks beyond Judge Curtin's; but
the boys were only half sure they were hungry
when they rang the bell.

bidden you to laugh in that way when you come-
into my presence? Mrs. Fitch? On New Year's.
day? Why, what can have happened! And
Mr. Marmaduke Plumb with her? It must be.
something serious. And Johnny Cook? How r'
wish the doctor were here. Show them right in,.
Julius, and stop that giggling."
She had bounced from her chair and was.
smoothing the folds of her silk dress, nervously,
as Julius Ca2sar chuckled his way back to the-
front door, and just at that moment a whole-
sleigh-load of other callers came hurrying up the-
"Wish you happy New Year !"
Happy New Year !" Happy New Year! "
Happy New Year, Johnny," said Mrs. Micklin.




-But, Tracy, where's your father? Tom, why does
:not your mother come in? I told Julius --"
"Why, Mrs. Micklin," said Tom, "it 's only
the cards. We passed 'em at Mrs. Jones's and at
.Judge Curtin's. Only I sent in Belle's there instead
.of Mother's."
"Why, you mischievous boys And here you've
frightened me so! I thought something dreadful
had happened "
But at that moment the other visitors came pour-
ing in, and Mrs. Micklin had to say "happy New
Year" to them, and shake hands and smile and talk,
.and the three boys were almost pushed out of the
way, while Julius Casar stood at the parlor door,
.and seemed to be trying to laugh without making
.any noise.
Julius," whispered Tom, as he edged near
-him, "where 's the ice-cream?"
But Tom's whisper was loud enough to be heard
by everybody in the room, for it seemed to slip into
.a quiet little place in the conversation, and so did
Julius Casar's reply: Dah aint none."
Mrs. Micklin blushed, and one of her gentle-
men guests suddenly remarked:
"My dear Mrs. Micklin, I 'm delighted to see
that you have joined the reform movement. You
wont ask your friends to stuff themselves."
And she said something in reply, and the others
:said something; but Tom Fitch put his lips to
Johnny's ear, and said, pretty loudly: "Let 's go.
There 's nothing in this house but medicine."
"Bow to Mrs. Micklin before you go," said
Johnny; but everybody in the parlor, excepting the
doctor's wife, was laughing about something or
-other when Julius Casar opened the front door for
those three boys to go out.
"Where '11 we go now, boys?" said Johnny,
when they reached the sidewalk.
There is n't any other place so good as Mrs.
,Curtin's," remarked Tom.
Can't go twice to the same house," said Tracy.
"'Can we, Johnny?"
No, I s'pose not. But we've plenty of cards.
Let 's try that white house over yonder."
"Who lives there?"
"I don't know. But we can find out when we
get in."
It was a very nice house, and there were three
young ladies in it, and one of them was at that very
moment standing by one of the front windows, all
hidden among the heavy curtains, and another was
-saying: It's just too bad, girls. Here it is two
o'clock, and we 've only had five callers, and one
-of them was the minister."
And nobody has eaten anything."
"Hush, girls; what can those three boys be

coming here for? I 've seen one of them before.
They 're making calls!"
Tell John to show them right in."
And John did, although Tom Fitch insisted that
the cards must go in ahead of them.
Happy New Year!" "Happy New Year!"
Three on each side, and then the girls talked
right on, so fast their callers had no chance to cor-
rect the names.
"Johnny, you 'll have some cake?"
Marmaduke, I must give you some ice-cream."
"Now, Arabella, some chicken-salad."
My name's Tom."
"Your card says your name 's Arabella."
Here 's my other card."
No, my dear, you 're not a married lady. And
you must have a cup of coffee."
Very hospitable indeed were the three young
ladies, and by the time they had helped their young
callers to several times as much as any three boys
could eat, Jenny was able to remark: "Now, girls,
the table begins to look as if somebody 'd been here."
"But I think we 'd better go now," said Johnny
Cook. "I can't eat any more."
Oh, very well, my dear; and Arabella too, and
That's my father's name, and mine 's Tracy
"Just as good, Tracy. Wont you eat some more
cream ?"
"No, ma'am. Johnny says we 'd better go."
The girls were in high glee over their young
gentlemen callers; but when the latter, reached the
sidewalk, Johnny Cook remarked: "I guess we
wont make any more calls. I 'm going home."
"So am I," said Tom. "But I've four more
"I've more 'n that," said Tracy; "but I don't
want to go anywhere else. I could n't be polite."
Not one of them could have been polite enough to
eat another mouthful, and that or something else
made them a very sober-looking lot of New Year's
day callers, as they walked on down the street.
Tom and Tracy were not heard from again that
day; but Johnny Cook wondered, when Uncle
Fred came home that night, why he was com-
pelled to give so careful an account of everything.
"You were very polite, everywhere ?"
"Yes, Uncle Fred; and at the last place Tom
Fitch forgot to bow when he came out, and I made
him go 'way back into the parlor and do it."
That was right. If there was any other place
where he forgot it, he ought to go back there next
New Year's day and bow."
But Johnny only said: I don't think I want to
eat any supper, to-night, Uncle Fred."





(A Story of an S. S.)

BY *



IT rained gently nearly all night, but the morn-
ing came fresh and bright. The grass glistened in
the sunshine, showers of soft, sunny rain were
shaken from the trees, and the river breeze, Belle
declared, beckoned them all out.
"I should have liked, however," she said, "to
stay in the house this morning, and make things

wooden settee; I '11 scrub it up, and it will make
you a parlor-sofa."
"Oh, yes," said Belle; "but do look at Papa!
Is n't he in splendid array? "
Mr. Baird, who had just entered, turned slowly
around on his heels.
"I flatter myself," he said, "that I look the
character I represent. Is that a lucid sentence,
Fred?" and he gazed complacently upon his blue
pantaloons, his blue flannel shirt, his rubber boots,
and sailor neck-tie.

-5A S


comfortable. I am sure that everything could not
have been moved out of a house as big as this
one, and we might find a chair or two."
"I am afraid, Belle," said her mother, "that you
are forgetting this is a wigwam, and not a house."
"Out in the shed," said Patty, "there is an old
VOL. VIII.--6.

"If I had guessed this," said Belle, sadly, "I
should have had a flannel dress I did not like to
speak of it. I hoped Mamma would understand it,
but she did n't. You are "-and then she arose
and walked around him-" Papa, you are-nobby !"
When Sandy and PDnald came in to breakfast,





they brought news. A boat, quite large enough,
new and well built, by name The Jolly Fisher-
man," could be hired for the two weeks, and the
fishing, it was said, was capital.
So then Mrs. Baird decided she would stay in-
doors and help to settle the wigwam, and the
others started out to see the boat, and they ended
by rowing out in it, and coming home quite late
to dinner.
Mrs. Lambert was here," said Patty, bringing
in the potatoes smoking hot, and she made you
an offer."
"An offer of her house!" said Mrs. Baird.
" She is going to Kentucky next week, and she
wants us to go over to her place and stay. We
can use her ice and coal, her beds and parlor."
"She is very good," said Sandy, with great
decision; "but we wont go. We do not intend to
spoil our fun in that way "
She pities us. She is sure, although she did
not say so, that only misfortune could have made
us take our bags on our backs, and forlornly come
to this place."
She did not recognize us yesterday?" said Mr.
"No, indeed. She saw we were not tramps;
but what we were she could not guess. She sent
over early this morning to Farmer Saunders's to
ask about us."
Belle had started to go upstairs, but stopped to
hear what her mother said. Now, as she opened
the parlor door, she gave an exclamation, and
stood still.
The others rushed to see, and behold! there
were a rocking-chair, a half-dozen camp-stools, a
table, a cover, and a lamp. On the floor was a
rug, and on the window-sill a pile of books !
"I love her very shadow!" cried Fred. "Did
she send all these ?"
She did. And Patty has her share in the way
of some pots and pans, a great china meat-dish, and
a nutmeg-grater. She would have sent everything
in her house, if I had consented."
The boys sat on the camp-stools, and Belle in
the rocking-chair; they looked at one another.
There is just one seat too many," said Donald.
"Pretty good count, that."
"That's Kitty's," said Sandy. "We can call
it hers."
At that moment Patty looked in. "Don't you
know that dinner is on the table ?" she said. Then
they all took their places meekly, and dined.

The picnic was formally opened the next day by a
fishing party, and every one, excepting Patty, went.
They brought home a goodly string of perch and
sunfish; but the day's delight cannot be described.

The sunshine, soft and mellow, the green, pellucid
water crowned with white-caps, the rock of the
waves, the wash against the shore, the sky, the
wind, the dreams, the sense of freedom and of
power, all these cannot be told; but they were felt.
What they talked of around the table, still seated in
Turkish fashion, were Donald's good luck, Sandy's
laziness, and the eels that Belle caught.
Fred had given his mind to his work, and he
noted the places where the best sport was had.
He knew just where a family of perch, with silvery
scales, had come to see why so many lovely worms.
should descend into the water, and he knew to how
many of them this curiosity had been fatal. He
knew where the lines were tangled up by eels, and
where the sunfish bit; and where the cat-fish were
not. He also had known how heavy the luncheon
basket was when he carried it to the boat, and
how preposterously light it seemed when, at three
o'clock, he found that all that was left in it was
some butter, and a cup half full of apple-sauce !
Upon one point all were agreed, and all were
eloquent-it had been a splendid day; there never
was a better one.
After supper was over, the young people sat on
the porch. In the little parlor Mr. Baird read to
his wife, and Patty dozed on her settee. It was
warm, but a pleasant breeze blew up from the river;
a few stars shone in the sky; on the river, lying
misty and dim, passed now and then a boat bearing
a light.
"I wonder," said Donald, "that the boat ever
stops here, there are so few passengers. The day
we came there was no one else for the landing."
There were a little girl and her father to-day,"
said Belle. "I watched them from our boat."
"How do you know it was her father?" asked
I only suppose it was. I don't know anything
about it."
"Then you ought not to speak so positively.
Half the misunderstandings in the world come
from -"
"Dear me, Fred," said Belle, wearily, "could n't
we postpone that until we reach home!"
"Hark!" interrupted Sandy, "some one is
singiilg on the river I wish it were moonlight-I
should like to go down."
"And sail?" said Belle. "That would be
Oh, I should n't sail," Sandy said. I should
bob for eels. Still, if I wanted to sail, I should as
lief go on a night like this. I like these dim nights.
They seem to shut us in, away from the rest of the
"Well, I wish it were moonlight," said Donald,
"for then I could see what that is by the fence. I




have been watching it for some time, and I cannot
tell whether it is a dog or a boy."
"It is Mrs. Lambert's cow," said Fred; "it
came up last night."
There was a cow or a horse on the lawn last
night," Belle added. Patty woke me up and
frightened me half out of my life. She insisted it
was a man, but I knew better."
It was a horse," said Sandy. "I saw its tracks
this morning. I am going to see what that is."
He walked over the grass, then he stopped a
moment, and then, going quickly to the spot where
the something stood, spoke in a low, excited tone.
"What is it?" called Donald.
"Nothing much," replied Sandy; "but I '1
show you!"
There was an instant more of talk, some resist-
ance, and then Sandy re-appeared, bringing up a
girl in a short-waisted dress and a large sun-bonnet.
Sandy stood her at the foot of the porch steps, just
where the light from the lamp fell on her.
"It is the girl who came on the boat, to-day,"
said Belle. "I remember her bonnet. It is like
one of Patty's."
It is Patty's," said the girl, taking it off. "I
took it out of your hall-closet."
Kitty Baird!" cried Belle, jumping up.
"Where on earth did you come from? "
"From home," said Kitty, composedly, sitting
down on the lowest step. Don't speak so loud.
I don't want Cousin Robert to see me."
"You have run away !" exclaimed Belle.
"What if I have?" said Kitty. "That is no
reason why you should spoil everything. Now,
Isabella Baird, if you speak above your breath, I '11
just go away this minute."
"Is n't she the greatest goose alive?" asked
Sandy. "I do believe there is nothing too silly for
her to do."
"How did you get here ? asked Fred.
"In the boat," replied Kitty. Oh, I 've been
all around! I saw you all eating supper. My
goodness, but you did look funny! All of you on
the floor, and baskets, and what is that concern you
have for a table? You must be having lots of fun.
I was awfully hungry."
"Why did n't you come in?" said Donald. "I
could n't see my own relations eating and not ask
them to go shares,-that is, if I were hungry."
"I didn't want to," said Kitty. "Mrs. Lam-
bert asked me to stay there, but I would n't. I
say, Belle, have n't you some cake or something ?"
"Mrs. Lambert.!" exclaimed Belle. "What will
your father say? Why, you look like a "
Guy," said Sandy.
"I did n't tellherwho I was," said Kitty. "You
must think I am silly I But I am very hungry."

"Come along," Sandy said. "Belle is over-
come. I will get you something to eat."
Wont Patty see me ? The secret will be out
if she does. She never could keep a secret."
She 's all right," said Sandy. Look in the
window, Fred, and see if she is asleep."
"Sound replied Fred, getting up a little.
"Papa is reading poetry aloud; and that always
settles Patty."
Sandy started off, Kitty meekly following, and so
went on to the dining-room porch.
"You stay there," said Sandy. "There is n't
much to stumble over, but you would be sure to
find it. You will have to put up with poor com-
mons, Kitty, for the meat and butter are in the
"I don't care," whispered Kitty. "A piece of
bread will do. Anything-I don't care."
"There is some ham. I saw it to-night; but
you don't like it?"
Not at home; but just now I adore it."
"Well, but can't you come hold up this lid.
Gracious! There goes my hand right into some-
thing! Cold tomatoes! Now, look out. There,
that 's all right! Here 's the ham, but there is n't
much cut. Here are some rolls. They are good-I
can testify to that."
I have a knife," said Kitty, "but don't haggle
the ham."
"Hark!" whispered Sandy. "There is Papa
Out flew Sandy's fingers! Bang went the lid,
and away went Kitty.
"It 's a lucky thing my fingers did n't get
mashed," ejaculated Sandy. "I should never have
forgiven her And Papa was n't coming here "
Kitty was nowhere to be seen when he rejoined
the others, but after a time she came cautiously
"That was outrageously mean in you, Sandy,"
she said, "to drop the lid in that way. I lost
nearly all my ham, and it was n't Cousin Robert,
after all. I have been around to the back window,
and he is reading again."
Now look here, Kitty," said Belle, before Sandy
had a chance to answer, "if you think we are going
to keep your secret, you are much mistaken. You
can run away from your own father, if you choose,
but we don't treat our father so. I don't see, either,
how you can keep it from him; he is.bound to see
Sandy had that fine sense of fair play which
always animates a boy when his sister scolds
another girl, and he said, hotly enough, that he
thought it was Kitty's own affair, and she ought
to manage it her own way.
"You have to tell on her, or hide her," said




Donald, who was not Belle's brother. I don't see
how we can keep out of it."
"I can tell on myself," said Kitty. "I don't
expect to keep it from Cousin Robert. I am going
to stay and have a good time. But first I want to
get my valise. It is over by the fence; and, Belle,
where is your room ? "
"Boys," called Mr. Baird, coming to the win-
dow, "we are going to bed. I will lock the front
door, and you can come in some other way."
How will you get in ? whispered Kitty. Can
I do it? Do you climb in?"
"We could," replied Sandy, "but we don't.
This is one of our ceremonies. There is a splendid
brass lock on the front door, so we always lock it.
The other doors are open. There are about nine-
teen of them. Of course, the windows are open."
"Kitty, if you want to see Papa, you 'd better
hurry," said Belle.
Oh, I '11 wait until the morning," Kitty care-
lessly replied. That will be plenty of time."
No, you wont wait," exclaimed Sandy, who
believed in his own authority, if not in Belle's.
"Papa, here is some one who wants to see you."
When Mrs. Baird, a few minutes after, came
out on the porch to see what kept her husband
there, she was, reasonably enough, surprised.
On a chair by the door sat Mr. Baird, holding
his lighted candle in his hand. The others stood
around, and in the center of the group was a girl,
in a queer, old-fashioned frock, and with a sun-
bonnet in her hands.
It is Kitty," said Fred, with a laugh, seeing
his mother's perplexity.
Kitty exclaimed she-" Kitty, at this time
of night-in that dress What will your mother
She wont be worried, Cousin Jule. I left a
note for her."
"How did she come here, Robert ?" said Mrs.
"It is all right, Cousin Jule," said Kitty. "Mamn-
ma wont be worried. I did n't just say I was
coming here, but she will understand. I said-- "
Well?" said her-cousin Robert.
"I said," and Kitty looked at the floor, while
her lips trembled with a smile, Dear Mamma: I
flee as a bird to the mountain. Don't be anxious
about me. I shall be all right. Your daughter,
Kitty Kite.' You see, that will make it all right."
"I don't see it," replied Mr. Baird.
"And I came in the boat this afternoon," pur-
sued Kitty, anxious to tell her story herself, and
I saw you all out fishing, but I did n't know you.
I staid a good while at Mrs. Lambert's. May be
you know her? She knows you, anyhow, and she
called me in, and she said she was afraid you would

all get the chills, and she did n't see what you
She must have wondered what your mother
meant by dressing you in that style."
And she has cut off her hair," said Sandy.
Kitty put up her hand, took out a hair-pin, and
let down a long plait of hair.
"I should n't do anything so silly," she said,
"and Mamma would n't forgive that! Is n't this
dress funny, Cousin Jule? It is one of Mamma's
Dorcas frocks. Old Mrs. Witherspoon made it.
It would n't have been any fun to come dressed just
like common folks."
"Well, you did n't," said Sandy. "You are a
perfect guy."
"That is the second time you have told me so,"
said Kitty, and it is n't very polite. Of course it
would n't do for the Rev. Mr. Baird's daughter to
dress in this way, but I played "-turning to Fred
-" that my name was Maria Montague, and that
my father had gone to sea, and I had to help my
mother support eight younger children. It is a
very nice dress for Maria Montague "
Did you tell Mrs. Lambert that yarn? asked
I don't understand how you got away unseen,
in that dress," said Mrs. Baird. "Did no one in
the village see you?"
"Oh, I had on my own clothes when I left
home I put these in the bag without Mamma's
knowing it. I changed them on the boat in one of
the little cabins. You ought to have seen the
chambermaid stare! She thought I had come up
out of the river, I think. She would n't believe
she had sold me a ticket, until I showed it to her.
She said she did n't remember me. As for Mr.
Slade "
Here Kitty stopped.
Mr. Slade! said her cousin Robert. Was he
on board?"
"Oh, yes," said Kitty, cheerfully. "Papa put
me in his care."
"Put you in his care! repeated Mr. Baird.
"Why, did your father know you were coming ?"
Of course he did! He took me to the boat.
You see, it almost broke my heart not to come with
you, and that almost broke Mamma's, and so Papa
could n't stand it, and he said I could come, and if
I should behave myself, and you should want me, I
could stay."
Sandy turned to go into the house. "I should n't
have believed it, Kitty," he said, in wrath. "To
think that you should tell us you ran away "
I did n't tell you," stoutly replied Kitty,-" not
once You all took it for granted. You all said
so, and I did n't contradict it. If you had n't been
in such a hurry, Sandy Baird, to make me see





Cousin Robert, I should have put on my own dress
and explained it all to him. I did n't mean him to
see me in this horrid old thing But you all tease
me all the time, and you tell everybody about the
time I intended to run away when I was a very little
girl, and now I only meant to surprise you. I should
have staid just as long as I could if you had n't
known me; but you all began to say I had run away,
the very moment you found out who I was, and you
have n't been fair,-and, Cousin Jule, can't I go to
bed ? Oh, there 's my bag and off she ran down
the steps and to the fence.
The little group on the porch looked at one
another and laughed. Kitty came back tugging
her bag, which Donald took from her, and then
they locked the front door and went up to bed.
In the hall, Mrs. Baird stopped a moment.
"Kitty," she said, "did you really write that
note to your mother? "
"Of course I did, Cousin Jule; but it had n't
anything to do with running away. It was just for
a sort of comfort for her."



THE next day, Mrs. Lambert invited Mr. and Mrs.
Baird to dinner. Dining out was not included in
the plans the family had made for life in a wigwam,
but it was not possible to decline, and so the
younger ones were left to amuse themselves.
Sandy proposed shooting a crane. He had
watched these birds on the river banks with interest.
They were slow and stupid, he said, and it would
be easy enough. to shoot one as it lazily rose and
flopped itself into the air; so he invited the girls
and boys to join the chase, and early in the morn-
ing they set off in the boat, leaving Mr. and Mrs.
Baird and Patty at Greystone.
It was ten o'clock before they saw their bird, and
they spent until nearly three o'clock chasing him.
And they never got even a fair shot at him !
He took a little nap on one shore, and then flew
across the river, and took another. He watched for
his dinner, but caught nothing; he made a trip up
the creek, and once flew into the marsh. Every-
where he went, the persevering hunters followed.
But it was, all in vain, for he never came near, nor
would he allow them to make any approaches.
None of them knew very much about the proper
way to shoot a crane, but they all agreed that they
had learned most of his ways of avoiding being shot.
At last he flew up the river, and, with his legs
stretched out bravely behind, disappeared.
It was then decided that the crane-hunt was over.

Sandy then proposed that they should go after
reed-birds, but Donald objected, because the law
did not allow them to be shot so early in the season.
But Sandy did not propose to shoot them," said
Kitty. "He said we could go after them-as we
did after the crane."
This argument was so convincing that Donald at
once turned the boat, and rowed to the creek
where, the day before, they had seen many flocks
of the birds. Here they landed, and walked over
the meadows to some marshes.
It was a clear, charming day, and they were all
in the best of spirits. They had had a good
luncheon, and they discussed how they should
have their birds cooked, Donald and Fred being
in favor of a pie, while the others declared for
broiling and serving on toast.
"But, look here, Sandy Baird," said Belle, sud-
denly stopping, do carry your gun differently, or
let me walk ahead of you."
I think I should rather be ahead," cried Kitty.
"Goodness knows what he will do! and off she
"My senses! said Donald, standing still. "I
do believe she is going directly into the swamp !
She will frighten every bird away."
She will stick in the mud," said Belle, rushing
after her. "Kitty, come back this minute!"
"By George !" ejaculated Fred, catching Belle
by the shoulder. "What are girls made for?
Between you we shall not get a bird! "
"Don't you shoot, Sandy! Don't you shoot!"
cried Belle, jumping up and down. "You '11 hit
her in the back Don't you dare to shoot! "
Here they are cried Kitty, cheerily, waving
her hat and dashing on, as, with a whir, up rose a
flock of birds on speedy wing. Here they are !
Come on Quick, Sandy, quick "
The boys stood still. They looked at each other
and then they laughed; but Kitty turned upon
them with indignation.
Why did n't you come on ?" she cried. "If you
had been quick enough, you could have shot a
I don't believe our spoil will be very great," said
Donald, when Kitty, still scolding, came back. "I
move that we do now sit down and sing a hymn."
"Well, I am not going home empty-handed,"
said Sandy. I shall take something, if it is only a
"So I should," said Kitty, in a pleased tone. "I
should n't give up. You might have had those birds
if you had shot at once; but I should get something.
I wish there were bears here."
I could easily have shot you," said Sandy, if
I had tried for the birds."
Oh, I should have lain down," said Kitty, and





you could have shot over my head. But, come; if "Don't spoil all the sport," he said, crossly, and
the others don't want to go along, suppose they sit Kitty at once sat down again.
under that tree, while we go ahead and hunt for Skirting the edge of the wood was a thicket of
something." bushes, and to this Sandy made his cautious way.
I 'd rather have you sit under the tree, if I may "It is a cardinal-bird," whispered Fred. "I can
choose, and have the others come along," said see its red crest. There-low in the bushes.
Sandy. Hish "
Just as you please," said Kitty, and she at once Bang!-bang !-went the gun, and on rushed

sat down on the grass. It is rather sunny here,
but it will suit you all the same, I suppose."
"Ah exclaimed Sandy, and he started off
on a quick, quiet run. Kitty sprang to her feet,
and would have gone pell-mell after him, but Fred
jumped forward hastily and caught her.

S.dr.d,. Kut, -prar,,; up and tore -it&-r
lii. .iid thl: oi.th:rs uti r her. But
L.:.reC tihe, r:I:d the: pla:e. Sandy
.:- p[:,":.r:-cl. H !-: ta.-,: %va: ic:d, but he

S ihad e : S .ir io.l -bir! in h, hi'.ind.
the,' "* "s.Vwi it .Sa dy .v.ii m ':l ,: r.:d Kitty.
L L hou, \ a .-. di I fdI -b c m. r i "

l ( ,.| < r,,::.. .-a,.j ^ 'n'.-lV '. >'i .:arele ;.;-!. as

V''"'' lc' 'lS pp-. 1, Lo .
,1' *I ", ,,, th ,- i.. ...
,fc t~ 1 IM t, h:a,-.-i h.il)m .
S I ,:irn _.:.iig to i-..,- v h-it ir i .he
crild, and ran back. Sandy followed
her. She was the quicker; reaching
the spot where Sandy's victim had fallen, she gave
a shout, and, a moment after, she came rushing
out of the bushes, laughing as she ran.
In her hands she dragged a tame turkey, and it
had a red head, and it was dead.
It was a good shot, anyhow," said Sandy, try-




ing to look as if he did n't care. "But I say, boys,
what are we going to do with it ?"
"Take it home to Patty," said Fred.
"Advertise for the owner," Donald suggested.
"Bury it," said Belle.
"Tie it around the hunter's neck," said Kitty.
I should n't like the owner to know of this, and
yet I should like to pay him," said Sandy.
Advertise," repeated Donald.
Sandy reflectively shook his head. "Let us go
home," he said.
"But how about the game ? said Kitty, holding
the turkey toward him.
"It can go home, too," said Sandy, taking it
from her and throwing it into a bush. "Now, if
we hear anything about it, I '1 pay for it; if we
don't, the waters of oblivion may cover it. At any
rate, let us go home right off. I feel nervous."
As they hastened down to the boat, they met a
boy, small, sandy-haired,, and freckled, going for
cows. "Been gunning?" he asked.
"Not much," said Sandy.
I thought I heard a gun. Did you shoot any-
Don't you think you are a little inquisitive?"
said Sandy, who felt it was a tender subject.
"I had not thought about it," said the boy,
walking on. Then he stopped, and, looking back,
said: Perhaps you would like to go fishing?"
"That would n't be a bad idea," said Fred.
"What do you want to fish for? asked the boy.
For fish," replied Sandy.
Oh," said the boy, I thought it might be for
kangaroos and he started off again.
"I don't think that was very polite," said Fred;
and he called after the boy, Do you know a good
place? "
If you go up to those three oaks, draw a bee-
line from there to that frame house, you '11 catch
perch, or my name is not Jack Robinson," said he.
"All right," said Fred. "Much obliged."
Not at all," said the boy, laughing. When
folks are polite to me, I am polite to them."
The boy's directions were easily followed, and
they soon rowed up the creek to the. three oaks,
discussed where the bee-line would run, settled the
question, anchored, and began to fish. It was a
charming afternoon. The sky was slightly clouded,
the trees bent over the creek, the birds were chat-
tering, and afar off some one was playing a flute.
For a long time, the little party fished in silence.
Every little while, one of the lines would be gently
jerked, and the owner's heart would give a little
jump; but when the hooks were drawn up, there
were no fish on them, and no appearance even of
the bait having been nibbled.

Then Sandy began to sing softly.
Don't do that," said Fred.
I shall not frighten the fishes," said Sandy.
"They are all from home, or else are asleep. I
move that we go where there is no bee-line."
I move that we go home," said Belle. I am
very hungry, and it must be five o'clock."
"It is," said Fred. "Supper must be nearly
ready, for Patty promised to hurry up to-night.
That boy is a fraud," he added, pulling up his line.
"I 'd just like to see that boy!" exclaimed
Sandy; and it was not long before he had his wish,
for they had not rowed far before they overtook
him, walking on the bank driving his cows.
Sandy rested on his oars.
What's your name ?" he shouted.
"Sam Perry," said the boy. "Hope you had
luck! Next time you might better answer a civil
question civilly." Then he added: "You can pay
me back whenever you choose."
Oh, I shall," said Sandy. "You need n't be
afraid of that."
The tide is running up very fast," said Donald,
as they rowed down the stream.
"Yes," said Fred; but -- and at that
moment the oar snapped close to the blade!
They looked at each other in consternation.
Now what was to be done?
Can't you mend it?" said Sandy.
"Not very easily," replied Fred. "But lend me
your fan, Belle."
Belle handed him the gigantic Spanish fan she
wore, at her side, but asked what he was going to do
with it.
Ruin it," was his brief reply. And I wish it
were longer and stronger." He then borrowed all
the handkerchiefs, put the two pieces of oar
together, laid the fan across the break, tied it top
and bottom with two handkerchiefs, then taking
some stout string which Kitty had in her pocket, he
wrapped it around and around until the oar was
comparatively firm and fit for use.
I could n't have done that," said Sandy, admir-
ingly; "but I knew you could invent something."
I don't know how long it will stand this tide,"
answered Fred. "When we get back to the land
of shops I 'I1 buy you another fan, Belle."
"Very well," said she; but let it be different.
I was tired of that."
The oar did very well for a time, but it was evi-
dent from the way the bandages loosened that it
would not stand much work. Fred took it in for
the third time to tighten, and then said, looking at
the darkening sky:
"We can never get home with this thing! It
wont stand the river."

(To be continued.)





BUCK, Bounce, Bill, and Bob were four goats. Tom, Sam, and Jack
were three boys. Sue and Ann Jane were two girls. Zip was a small
dog, with a big head. Tom had a cart with four wheels; and he
thought that if he made the four goats draw the cart, he could have a
stage line from his house to the big tree at the end of the street. He
said he would charge the boys and girls one cent for a ride. That
would make him rich, if all the boys and girls in town took a ride.
When Tom had put the four goats to his stage, he took the reins in
his hand, and got up on the front seat, which was a chair. Sam took
his seat on one side of Tom, and blew his horn to let the boys and
girls know they soon would start. When Sue came, she had to sit on a
box, for there was no chair for her. Jack stood up in the back part of
the cart and took hold of the hands of Ann Jane to help her in, for she
was quite a small girl. Zip sat on the ground, near the goats. He did
not know what all this meant,-but he thought he would wait and see.
When there were no more boys and girls to come, Sam blew his
horn again, and Tom sang out: "All on board the fast goat line for
the big tree!" Then he cracked his whip, and said: "Get up!"
The goats knew how to pull a cart, and they set off on a trot. This
was fine, for all the boys and girls. But Zip, the dog, thought the goats
went too slow. I can make them go fast," he thought, "if I bark at
them, and give them each a right good bite."
So he ran close up to Buck and gave a great bark. Buck did not
like Zip. So when Zip ran up and barked close by his ear, Buck set
off on a run, and Bob, Bounce, and Bill ran, too.





They ran so fast that Tom could not hold them in, and they gave
such great jerks that the chair, with Sam in it, fell back on Sue, and
made her break through the lid of her box, so that she went right down
in it. As for Jack, he fell out of the cart at the first jump of the goats,
and came down, head first, in the road. Ann Jane sat flat down at the
back end of the stage, and held on with all her might. Tom's hat, and
Sam's hat, blew off, and the wind made Ann Jane's hair fly. Tom drew
in the reins as tight as he could, and said: "Whoa! Whoa!" But the
goats would not stop, nor go slow. They ran on till the wheels went
round so fast you could not see the spokes. Tom lost his whip, but he
did not care for that. He did not want to whip the goats now.
At last, Buck and Bounce broke loose, and then Bill and Bob ran on;
but they could not pull the stage fast, so they made a short turn, and
broke off the pole of the stage close up to the wheels. But Tom let
go of the reins, and so they did not pull him out.
Tom and Sam then got out of the stage, and Sam took hold of Sue's
hand to lift her out of the box, while Tom went to see if Jack was hurt.
But Jack got up and said he was all right. Then Sue sat down by
Ann Jane on the floor of the stage, while the three boys took hold of it
to pull it back home. They could not pull it as fast as the four goats
could, and so, as they went on to Tom's house, the boys and girls of
the town, who had not had a ride in it, said it was not a fast goat line,
but a slow boy line.
As for Zip, when Tom came to the place where his whip lay in the
road, he took it up, and he gave that bad dog two or three good cracks,
to let him know he must not bark at the goats of the fast stage line.



.. .


IT 'S coming, boys,
-*. -- ; .

It's coming, gi-s,

The grand New Year I
A year to be glad in,
Not to be bad in;
A year to live in,
To gain and give in;

A year for ting, boys
It's almost here;

And not for sighing;
A year for striving,

And hearty thriving;
The grand New Year
A year to be glad in

For God, who sendeth,
Not to be bad in;ndeth."

SOME ofA year to lish cousin, my dears all, are
ed to hearing, at this season of feasts and ive

very old song that says:

"There 's naught so good in trees
A year forlum-puddin' trying,
Cut And not for sighing!
A year for striving,

AndUpon these trees, hearty song goes on to say, the plum-
A bright New Year,

puddings hang like fruit deady-cooked and wait-

Ing to be eaten; and every time you cut a slice, the
For God, who sendeth,
He only lendeth."


hole you made fills up aga your English cousins, my dears new.all, are
moreover, thear at this season of feasts and fun,rious a

themselves, where 's naut turkeys and all sorts of
As plum-puddin' trees,-

Cusavory and pleasant and come againbout, crying out:
Upon these trees, Come song goes on to say, the plum-and
puddings hang like fruit, ready-cooked and wait-st.
g to be Gingerbread-tree, every time you cut a slice, the
hole you made fills up again, as good as new. And
moreover, the trees grow in Egypt,a land as curious and
themselves, where roast turkeys and all sorts of
savory and pleasant viands fly about, crying out:
" Come eat me Come eat me to any boys and
girls who may be shipwrecked on the coast.
The Gingerbread-tree, however, is not a song
tree, but a real, ordinary vegetable, known as the
Doom Palm. It grows in Egypt, Arabia, and
Abyssinia, and is remarkable because, although a
palm, it branches near its top. The fruit is as

large as an orange, and hangs in clusters of about
a hundred, the rind being of a shiny yellowish-
brown outside, mealy and brown inside, nearly an
inch thick, and tasting very like gingerbread; it is
dry in the mouth, but the Arabs seem to enjoy it.

A MAN once took in a deep breath and held it
while he ran the width of four city blocks. But,
dear me, that's a mere trifle There is an engine
that runs twenty miles with but one breath. It
takes in a supply of compressed air, and, by its
aid, drags a train ten miles and back along a
track, before its breath gives out.

DEAR MR. JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I was surprised by what you
told us in November about "Needles and Thread that Grow." But
now it is your turn to be astonished, when I tell you of a tree, the
bark and leaves of which are marked by nature with alphabetic
symbols, or "images," in the language of Thibet!
It is called "The Tree of the Ten Thousand Images." I send
you a rough drawing of one of the leaves, and also this account of all
that I have learned about the history of the tree itself.
Far away, in the dreary land of Ambo, a part of Thibet, is a green
valley, where, in a Tartar tent,-say the Lamas, or priests,-was
born a wonderful boy named Tsong-Kaba. From his birth, he had
a long white beard and flowing hair, and could speak perfectly his
native tongue. His manners were majestic, and his
words were few but full of wisdom.
When Tsong-Kaba was three years olk ht re.
solved to cut off his hair and live a solitir. ii.
in the service of his god, Buddha. So,his :.-..r l V .r
shaved his head, and threw his long, flc *..
locks upon the ground outside the tent-ci. r
From this hair sprang the wonderful tree.
Tsong-Kaba lived many years, did count i.
good and holy deeds, and at last died. li
the tree which had grown from his hair Ia 1 .
on, and was called "The Tree of The T.,. }
Thousand Images"; and, at last account:, .
it still was alive and held sacred. The LS-
mas built high walls of brick around it.
and Khang-Hi, one of the emperors of
China, sheltered it beneath a silver dome.
Two French missionaries saw this tree ,' i''
some years ago, and they say that it l'l
seemed then to be very old. It was not
more than eight feet high; but three men
with outstretched arms scarcely could
reach around its trunk. The branches
were very bushy, and spread out like a
plume of feathers. The leaves were, "i
always green, and the wood, which was 1
of a reddish tint, had an odor like that
of cinnamon. The bark of the tree was
marked with many well-formed symbols ,
in the Thibetan language, and alpha- ',
betic characters appeared also, in a green
color, on every leaf, some darker, some
lighter, than the leaf itself.
Now, Mr. Jack, all this seems mar-
velous, and some of it is more than we
can believe; but the missionaries actually saw the tree, and were
convinced that the marks upon it were of natural growth.
Truly yours,
I PRESENT to you this rr.:ith., i;h the p.-rt,'
School-ma'am's compliments. ., enr) little pi : r irers
drawn by brother Hopkins, hiich .ilirnt tell tIler
own story. But remembering what a good time
you had over The Young Hunter," the dear little
lady wants you to write down the story of this small
girl and her pussy. Shesays: Tellthe boys and
girls, dear Jack, to state their ages; to write only
on one side of the paper; and not to send more than
eight hundred words, at the very most. Then the



story received before January 2oth, that best explains the pictures, and also is told best, shall be
printed in the March ST. NICHOLAS." There 's fun for yoiu! Get out your slates now, and try!








OUR readers, we think, will be specially interested in the simple
story of "Nedawi," in the present number, not only because it is a
sketch from real Indian life, written by an Indian, but because the
writer, "Bright Eyes," is a proof in herself of the capacity of the
Indian for education and the best enlightenment
Bright Eyes," named by her white friends Susette La Flsche, is
a noble-hearted young lady, devoted to the cause of her people, and
eager in the hope that our government will yet deal as fairly with the
Indian as with the white man. The following extracts from her
friendly letter to the editor will help you to know her, and to under-
stand why Nedawi is truly an Indian story, although it tells only
of peace and home-life:

"I have never attempted writing a story, and fear it is an impossi-
ble thing for me, but I can, at least, try. * It seems so hard
to make white people believe that we Indians are human beings of
like passions and affections with themselves; that it is as hard for us
to be good as it is for them,-harder, for we are ignorant,-and we
feel as badly when we fail as they do. That is the reason I have
written my story in the way I have. * I were only athome
I could write many things that would be interesting to white people,
as grandmother remembers when they saw the first white men, and
when there were no houses at all. None of our family speak English,
excepting my sisters and myself, and it is delightful to hear father,
mother, and grandmother tell their thrilling adventures, and speak of
the many changes that have come sine grandmother was a young
girl. *
It would be so much betterfor my people if the white people had a
more thorough knowledge of them, because we have felt deeply the
results of their ignorance of us.-Yours truly,
(Bright Eyes.)

WE are always glad to hear of the successful performance of any
home or school exercises printed in ST. NICHOLAS, and we should
like especially to hear from those of our readers who may have per-
formed the little operetta of "The Land of Nod," printed in our
December number.

X. Y. Z.--When the present Republic in France was first estab-
lished, the titles of nobility then existing were not interfered with,
and they still remain as they were in the days of Napoleon III.

If this and "My Lady's Garden" are to be given on the same
occasion, the brown curtain can be hung on a wire, close to the front
of the stage, and the garden scene placed directly behind. The per-
sonators of the dog and cat wear masks; the tails are made of stuffed
cambric, and stockings outside of the trousers represent paws.
For "My Lady's Garden" a light frame must be made, of the
width of the stage and proportioned to the height of the tallest flower.
Cover it with green cambric, bordered on the top with a strip of blue,
which, with the aid of a few streaks of charcoal, represents the boards
ofthe fence. A narrow piece ofcambric, reaching tojust below thetop
of the fence, should be suspended about two feet back of the screen,
to represent the sky. Cut the leaves and stems of the flowers from
green tissue paper; the lilies and shells from stiffer paper (white lilies
are more effective in the evening than the blue ones of the picture in
the book). Paste these on the screen, and shade them with
colored crayons. At the top of each stalk, cut a hole just large
enough to admit the head of the child who personates the flower.
The children stand behind the screen and put their heads through
these holes; their hats and ruffs are put on, in front of the scene, after
t heir heads are through. A pretty effect is produced by making each
child represent a distinct flower. Thus, beginning on the left,-a
sunflower (red hat); daisy (lilac hat); pink rose; forget-me-not; red
rose. Any of these can be made by fastening paper on the turned-up
brim of an old hat, which has been partly ripped from the crown;
each is tied under the chin. This forms one of the prettiest tableaux
If no real black sheep nor goat is to be had, for "Ban, ban, Black
Sheep," the animal can be manufactured from a box covered with
two Astrachan cloaks, and "headed" with a sheep's mask.
The Three Blind Mice" can be made from gray cotton flannel,
and should be very large, while the "Butcher's Wife" should every
A spinning-wheel adds to the effect in King Arthur."
In the "Little Cock-Sparrow," the bird should be only slightly
fastened to the tree, and pulled off by a string, behind the scenes,
when the boy shoots.
In the Four Presents," the geese, crescents, and cherry-blossoms
must be sewn upon the plain cloth foundation. The figures on the
clothes in "King Arthur" and "King Cole" must be sewn in the
same way.
Other pretty pictures for tableaux are "Little Bo-Peep," "Old
Man in Leather," "Little Man and Maid," "Sur le Pout d'Avig-
non," and "The Three Ships"; but the last three would be more
difficult, on account of the scenery absolutely necessary to make them
complete. B. F. H.

MARTIN D.-You will find plain diagrams and full instructions
"How to make an Ice-boat in ST. NICHOLAS for January, 1878.
But perhaps you will prefer to follow the directions given by Mr.

TABLEAUX VIVANTS AFTER WALTER CRANE AND KATE GREEN- Norton in his article entitled "Every Boy his own Ice-boat," which
AWAY.-Ellen and Charley G. ask for "something new in the way is printed in the present number.
of tableaux." ST. NICHOLAS has given and will continue to give,
occasionally, subjects of this kind; but at present we shall suggest
to Ellen, Charley, and others, that very pretty tableaux can be THESE New-Year verses were sent by L. E. L., a girl aged
made from Walter Crane's books and from Kate Greenaway's Un- thirteen.
der the window." Chime on chime on! ye merry bells,
A correspondent sends the following directions for making tableaux FoWithelr tone, umusoc sll rung;
vivants afterWalterCrane's Baby's Opera" and Baby's Bouquet": 'T is loved alike by old and young.
The costumes can be easily made from cheap cambric, and the
scenery is not difficult. While the music for each picture is being Chime on! chime on! To strife and care,
sung behind the scenes, the children should be acting it out. Send sudden messages of cheer;
The following has been found to be a good and effective selection: Let all your music rend the air,
"Hey, diddle, diddle"; "Baa, baa, Black Sheep"; "KingArthur"; And welcome in the glad New Year.
"Where are you going, my Pretty Maid"; "My Lady's Garden" ;
"Three Blind Mice"; "A Little Cock-Sparrow"; "The Four
Presentss; "Little B O-Peep"; and "Old iog Cole,"
Presents" Little Boa-Peep"; and Old King Cole," DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I 'd write to you and tell you
When given in a hall where there is scenery the landscape, which sme now n we have here. It is making snow-dishes. Here are
generally forms part of the stock scenery, makes a background for the directions : Take a block of snow of any size you please, and
the outdoorpictures. For others, like "King Arthur," ing Cole," make it the shape you want with a knife. Then smooth it on the top
and "The Four Presents," a background can be made with screens. and bottom. Then hollow it out smoothly, set it out over night and
SHey, diddle, diddle" and "My Lady's Garden" require special let it free. Then you have a dish fit to be set on the table in the
scenery, which can be prepared at slight expense. For "Hey, did- best ofsnow-houses.-Yours truly, WILLIE CLIVE.
die, diddle," make a curtain of brown cambric as near the color of
the cover to the "Baby's Opera" as possible. Cut the cow, moon,
birds, trees, etc., on a large scale, out of white paper, paste them on Snow sports even more interesting than that mentioned in your
the cambric, and fill in the proper shading with charcoal. The dish letter, Willie,-snow battles, the proper weapons, implements, and
is made ofa large piece of pasteboard tied to the waist and neck of a management of snow warfare, how to build snow-houses, and how
small boy, who should be dressed in full red trousers and a flowered to make snow-statues,-were described and fully illustrated in ST.
jacket. The spoon is shaped from a half-inch board, covered with
paper, and proportioned to the size of the boy who carries it. Being NICHOLAS for January and February, 1880; and in the present num-
in one piece, it is easily carried when the dish runs away with it her is a short account of a spirited snow-fight in which Mr. Beard, the
(keeping his face to the audience). historian of it, shared.



s8Sn.] THE LETTER-BOX. 253

H. W. T. SENDS this description, with pictures, telling how to make and a reading-room; the second story into a printing-room, and
a paper Jacob's ladder in one roll and three cuts; any boy or girl school-rooms, while the third story has a large lecture-room, a music-
old enough to handle scissors can easily learn how it is done: gallery, and sewing-rooms. In the basement are two large wash
and bath rooms, one for boys, and one for girls. All the apartments
Take a piece of writing-paper, about three inches wide, and nine are large, clean, airy, bright, and cheerful. The corridors and stair-
inches long; fold one end three or four times, as small, tight, and flat ways are very wide.
as possible (Fig. T). Then roll up the piece loosely (Fig. 2). Make It is a rule that the pupils must be as clean and neat as possible,
two cuts straight across and almost through the roll, allowing the and many go to the basement to wash and comb their hair, before
scissors to be stopped by the folded part (Fig 3). Bend down the entering the school-rooms; and, once during the week, each pupil
end pieces (Fig. 4). Cut through the middle piece lengthwise (Fig. can take a bath. Clothing is given, through the Aid Society, when
5); Take hold of the folded part, and pull it up, when you will have it is really needed.
a telescopic Jacob's ladder (Fig. 6). An imposing effect may be Three hundred boys and girls, of all ages, are gathered in the
made by using a large piece of wrapping-paper or newspaper, building in the afternoon or evening schools. In the infant school,

Two SMALL NEW YORK ITALIANS.-Your little letter about the
comfortless lives of poor Italian boys and girls in New York, was
very interesting. But, instead of printing it, we give a longer one,
from Mrs. Ellen E. Dickinson, on the same subject; and we hope
that many young readers will have their sympathies enlisted in behalf
of these poor waifs of the street.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The School for Poor Italian Children is near
the Five Points, in New York. The beautiful building is like a
gem in an ugly setting, for it is surrounded by dingy houses, filthy
streets, swarms of poor people, neglected children, and low drinking-
shops. In this part of the city, Mr. C. L. Brace, of the Children's
Aid Society, found many little Italian boys and girls in the most
terrible poverty. They were sent into the streets by their parents,
or by padroni (masters), to make money for them by organ-grind-
ing, playing on the harp or violin, gathering or picking rags, or
blacking boots. They were told that they must bring back a certain
sum of money every night, or they would be severely punished.
They had no chance to learn our language, excepting as they
picked it up in the street. Their condition was indeed pitiable,
especially that of those under padroni, who beat and starved them.
These _' i made a business of hiring boys and girls from their
parents ... Ir tl, to be sent to New York, and to work for them a
certain time,-the padroni paying all expenses, and promising to
return the children to their native land, with a fixed amount of profit.
When Mr. Brace had learned the necessities of these unfortunate
children, he determined, with the assistance of Mr. Cheryua, an
Italian gentleman, to open a school for them, where they might not
only properly learn our language, but be taught some employment
by which they could decently earn a living. Through the efforts
begun by these two gentlemen, the slavery of the little Italians has
been abolished, and the trade of the fadroni is no longer allowed by
the Italian government.
The first floor of the school-building is divided into school-rooms,

t 1

on the first floor, there are about one hundred children daily, mere
babies. The reading-room is well furnished with newspapers, in both
English and Italian, and has a fair collection of books. In the print-
ing-room there are eight or ten boys learning the art of printing,
serving an apprenticeship of two years. They have presses and
type, and all the apparatus of learning this trade, under a competent
master. Their work is so well done, that several business companies
employ them to do printing. The young printers are paid for their
work, and in the evening they go to the school. In the two school-
rooms on the second floor are the most advanced classes; the boys
are on one side of the room, and the girls on the other. Each pupil
has a separate desk, and the room is well furnished in other respects.
I once heard these Italian children sing a beautiful hymn in their
native language, a chorus from the opera of "Lombardi," and some
songs, one in English. They seemed to enjoy the singing, and I am
sure I did.
The large lecture-room, in the third story, is used for exhibitions.
Mr. Remenyi, the great violinist, once played here for the children.
Their delight was almost frantic when he gave them the "Carnival
of Venice," in which he imitated the cackling of geese and braying of





donkeys, and all sorts of queer sounds. The gallery is used by the
band, which is made up of pupils who show musical ability.
In the sewing-room, there are a dozen sewing-machines. Here the
girls, who are not at work in shops during the day, come to be taught
to sew, both by hand and by machine. They are allowed to make
garments for themselves-the materials being given-or to make
shirts and undergarments for manufacturers, who pay them. On
Saturday, the girls are taught to do fancy work.
When one remembers that were it not for Mr. Brace, Mr. Cheryua,
and some other noble men, besides many women, these little Italians
would be "street Arabs;" wretched, and even wicked, one cannot
but rejoice in all these efforts to teach them to be better, and to earn
their own living in honest ways. ELLEN E. DICKINSON.

WE ARE SURE all our young readers will be glad to hear that
Messrs. Roberts Brothers have just issued a new holiday edition of
"Little Women." The book is beautifully bound and printed, and
contains more than two hundred excellent illustrations.
Another welcome announcement is that the series of Peterkin
Papers," which have appeared in ST. NICHOLAS, have been collected
into book form and published by Messrs. James R. Osgood & Co.
Nobody who has read ST. NICHOLAS regularly need be told that this
volume by Miss Hale will bring much fun and amusement to any
household into which it enters.
From Messrs. Roberts Brothers: "Verses." By Susan Coolidge.
"A Guernsey Lily." By Susan Coolidge. 130 illustrations.
"New Bed-time Stories." By Louise Chandler Moulton. Three
full-page illustrations.- We and the World." By Juliana Hora-
tia Ewing. Eight full-page illustrations.
From Messrs. E. P. Dutton and Company: Queer Pets at
Marcy's." By Olive Thome Miller. Many illustrations.
From the Author's Publishing Company: Harry Ascott
Abroad." By Matthew White, Jun.--"A Visit to EI-Fay-Gno-
Land." By Mrs. M. M. Sanford. Seven full-page illustrations.
-- Kin-folk." By Janet Miller. Illustrated.
From the American Tract Society: "Into the Light." Two full-
page illustrations.-" Out of the Way." By Annette Lucille Noble.
Four full-page illustrations.- The Foot on the Sill." By Mrs.
H. B. McKeever. Three full-page illustrations.--" The Blue-
badge Boys." Three full-page illustrations.-- "A Young Man's
Safeguard." By Wm. Guest, F. G. S.- "Leo Bertram." From
the German of Franz Hoffman. By H. T. Disosway. Four full-
page illustrations.--"Frolic at the Sea-side." By Mrs. M. F.
Butts. Three full-page illustrations.-" From Hong Kong to the
Himalayas." By E. Warren Clark. 32 full-page illustrations.-
Several sets of very beautiful text-cards printed in colors.
From James Miller: "All Around the Rocking-chair." By Mrs.
Kate Tannatt Woods. Illustrated.

BERTHA L. WATMOUGH writes about some queer home-pets-
homed toads-which are the special favorites of her uncle and grand-
mamma; and she asks how to feed these pets. Bertha will find an
answer to this question in the Story of Lizbeth and the 'Baby,' "
printed in ST. NICHOLAS for May, 1880.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : We all read with great interest your article
in February, x880, about Hearing without ears" by means of an
audiphone. But the audiphone you then described is costly, and not
easily to be had. Here is a very simple way to make a good one:
You take a piece of smooth, stiff, brown paper, about fifteen inches
long and eleven inches wide, and hold both ends together between
the teeth, in such a way that the middle part bulges out round.

THE illustration of the little story of the "Three Friends," in the
Very Little Folk's department of the December number, was drawn
by Miss Jessie McDermott, notby Mr. Taber.

A CORRESPONDENT sends the following descriptions of how to cut
paper crosses at one snip. These may not be quite new, but they
will perhaps interest a good many readers of the "Letter-Box":
First Way.-Fold a half-sheet of paper in four-once lengthwise
and on6e across. You will then have a shape like Fig. i. The top
line represents the double fold, and the left-hand line the two single
folds. Now, double over the upper right-hand corner, and you will
have the shape Fig. 2. Then fold the paper in the middle, the long

way. This will give you the shape Fig. 3. Cut right along the
dotted line A B, and you will have two pieces of paper, one of
which is a Grecian cross. If you cut along the line A C, you will
have a Maltese cross.


[* AA

1, 2 3

Second Way.-Take half a sheet of paper. Fold the right corner
over as in Figure i (second diagram). Then fold over the left
comer till the paper looks as in Figure 2. Fold it down the middle
lengthwise, Figure 3. Fold it again down the middle lengthwise,
Figure 4. Then with your scissors cut right through the middle,
the long way, following the dotted line in Figure 4, and you will
find several bits of paper, among them a cross. You can, if yo
please, use all these bits of paper, and form a cross, steps to the
cross, a platform, candles, and candle-flames.

3 4






TRACE a way into this maze, without crossing a line, and so as to enter the five circles, one after another, in the order of their
inclosed letters, as the letters stand in a greeting appropriate to the season.

MY first is unpleasant to wear or to view;
My second in April comes first;
My third helps to furnish our table with sweets,
Though of enemies one of the worst:
My whole is an insect; 't was worshiped of old,
And is found in the tombs of Egyptians, I 'm told.
M. C. D.
EACH of the words described contains five letters, and the synco-
pated letters, placed in the order here given, spell a kindly phrase.
i. Syncopate continued pains and leave units on cards or dice. 2.
Syncopate a step for ascending and leave a commotion. 3. Syncopate
very swift and leave a sudden invasion. 4. Syncopate desires and
leave instruments used by farmers. 5. Syncopate the surname of
the author of Home, Sweet Home" and leave a sheet of glass. 6.
Syncopate a weapon of warfare and leave to fasten with a string. 7.
Syncopate the "staff of life and leave a kind of nail. 8. Syncopate
pledges and leave shallow dishes. 9. Syncopate the surname of an

able American general, sometimes called Mad Anthony," and leave
to decrease. io. Syncopate a pointed weapon and leave part of a.
ship. Io. Syncopate the sea-shore and leave the price paid. 12.
Syncopate restrains and leave young animals of a certain kind.
F. S. F.
MY first is in jug, but not in bottle;
My second in valve, but not in throttle.
My third is in pine, but not in oak;
My fourth is in fun, but not in joke;
My fifth in naughty, and not in good;
My sixth in breakfast, but not in food;
My seventh in trays, but not in dishes.
My whole is a time to exchange good wishes.
H. G.
i. IN capacity. 2. A covering for the head. 3. The weight of
four grains. 4. A model of perfection. 5. A worshiper of false gods.
6. 2240 pounds, avoirdupois. 7. In January. DYCIE.



ILLUSTRATED WORD-DWINDLE. won wider fame. 3. His * * was universally honored. 4. His conversation
was not like the chatter of a ******* 5. The ***** of wine never
tempted him. 6. He was an inventor of much*****. 7. His** was roused
Sby dishonest practices. 8. He ** * was intoxicated.
S-- 9. In argument he sent off an opponent with a * *
S-- n his ear." 1o. He used no ** nor brandy. Ix. He
was not afraid to stand ***** for the right. 12. He
S* **** scorned those who were unfortu-
S\ nate. 13. He was as firm as a Turkish
* * when he took his stand. 14. He
4- .was noted for ****** sentences. xS.
SHis mind grasped and held an * *
-5 until possessed of its full value. 16. His
deathwasmourned by a* * * B.


MY whole has eight letters, and names a big animal. My x-2- is
a measure of length. In my 2-3-7-8 comes the day for hot cross-
buns. My 4-3-8 is to fondle. My 5-6-8 is for t h head. BESSIE.

COMPLETE the following sentences with words, each of which is
to contain as many letters as there are stars printed in its place.
These words, in the order given, form the double acrostic.
The initials spell the name of a famous American philosopher; the
finals, what he was called in London on account of his temperance
principles. Each of the sentences, when complete, describes one of
his characteristics.
I. In argument he was hard to * 2. Few on * * have

I AM formed of nine letters, and am
called a prince. In order to ac-
quaint myself personally with my
subjects, and with their real needs,
I often take long journeys about
my country, accompanied only by
my body-guard, which I have
named "thefaithful 3-4-5." When-
ever I am weary, they make use of
my 1-2-3, and prepare for me my
8-9-7, which I drink in my 3-4-5-
6. What am I? M. c. D.

IN the following anagrams, the letters of the titles of the poems
are not mingled with the letters which form the authors' names; thus,
Ether Van, by Dean Rolla Peag, is an anagram on The Raven,"
by Edgar Allan Poe.
r. Her India Dress, by Athan Coburn Ashmead.
2. The Egg of Heibright Cathedral, by Fenton S. Darnley.
3. How the Elf Hated Forest, by Wilbur Allyn Mc Altine.
4. Music of Merry Poet, by Celia C. Ray.
5. Stoket Children at School, by Rowland Worthney Howell,
F. G. S. M. C. D.


PROVERB REBUS. An empty bag cannot stand upright.
CONCEALED BIRDS. I. Eagle. 2. Nightingale. 3. Heron. 4.
Swan. 5. Hawk. 6. Hen. 7. Lark. 8. Flamingo. 9. Ostrich.
To. Dodo. ii. Dove. 12. Pewit. X3. Owl. 14. Emu.
DICKENS DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals: Bagstock (Dombey
and Son). Finals: Traddles (David Copperfield). Cross-words:
x. BagneT (Bleak House). 2. AggerawayteR (Tale of Two
Cities). 3. GeorgianA (Mutual Friend). 4. Small-weeD (Bleak
House). 5. TrotwooD (David Copperfield). 6. Old BilL (Great
Expectations). 7. CuttlE (Dombey and Son). 8. KenwigS (Nich-
olas Nickleby).

THREE EASY DIAMONDS. I.T. 2. HUb. 3. TuRin. 4. Big.
5. N.-II. .. H. 2. DOg. 3. HoUnd. 4. GNu. D.-III. .
L. 2. COw. 3. LoUis. 4. WIt. 5. S.
Happy New Year.
CONNECTED DIAMONDS. Centrals across: Break-water. Left-
hand Diamond: i. B. 2. ORe. 3. BrEak. 4. EAt. 5. K. Right-
hand Diamond. x. W. 2. LAw. 3. WaTer. 4. WEt. 5. R.
Grey. III. Combatable.
EASY DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals: Santa. Finals: Claus.
Cross-words: i. ScholastiC. 2. AccidentaL. 3. NebraskA. 4.
TableaU. 5. AnonymouS.

The names of solvers are printed in the second number after that in which the puzzles appear.
Cynthia and Donny send from Hanover, Germany, the answers to six puzzles in the October number.
SOLUTIONS OF PUZZLES IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER were received before November o2, from "Pork U. Pine," 12-Suzette, 6-Anna
and Alice, 6-John M. Gitteman, 2-Gertrude C. Eager, 8-Archie and Charlotte Warden, i-Dycie Warden, 13-Lizzie Monroe, 2-
"North Star," 5-Walter K. Smith, I- Frankie Hassaurek, i-Minnie Hassaurek, i-Daisy Vail, 2- "Midget and Blunderbuss," 4-
John A. Chaffel, i-Mary L. Shipman, 2-Kip and Phil, 2-T. M., --Ollie O. Partridge, i-" Betsy and I," x2-Florence R. Radcliffe,
a-Lizzie C. Fowler, xo-"Tom, Dick, and Harry," 13-Edward L. Dufourcq, 2-Florence P. Jones, i-Sherbume G. Hopkins, 2-
T. Putnam and M. Abbot, x-Arthur Boyd, x-Henry M. Norris and Alan D. Wilson, i-" K.," i-Grace and her Cousin, 13-
*G. L. C., X3-Allie, Clem, Florence, and John, I-"Shady Rady and RulipyTulipy," 7-S. Lagourt, 2-Mary P. Bice, I-Lizzie
H. D. St. Vrain, 13-Lillie, to-Belle Chandler, 3-"Greene Home," ao-Charlie and Josie Treat, 12-Bessie Taylor, 9-Willie C.
Mains, i- "Cal. I. Forny," 7-"Jack and Jill," 13-C. C. Tyler, 4-Sadie and Eddie Wuffield, 8-Edith McKeever, 5-Harry Y. Witbeck,
9-Evans Preston, 3-Florence Wilcox, 9-Cora Fitz-Hugh, 4-E. C. Lindsay, 6-T. A. R., i-W. L. K., i-Minnie B. Leigh, 4-
Clara and Annie, t-Grace E. McIlvaine, 7-"Bonnie Brown Bessie," i. -Heath Sutherland, 12-M. J. H. and S. A. B., 9--
Jessie M. Miles, 3-"Morning Glory," 2- Emma W. Fisher, x- Nettie Dwier, ao-Ellie Carter, 4-" Mab," x2-Matie Milliken, 2-
Robbie Ludington, 6--"Nameless," 7-A. M. Poole, zo-"Topsy," 4-Cleaveland A. Chandler, --"Woodpecker," 2-Belle and
Bertie Baldwin, 3-Bessie C. Barney, 13-Will Ruter Springer, 7-Tinie and Nellie, 3-" Buttercup and Daisy," o- "Prince
Jamie," a- "Ruble and Grace," 8-Bessie and her Cousin, 13-Lucia F. Henderson, x-Maggie Kelsey, 2-R. T. L., i-- Bessie Con-
stock, i-"Georgia and Lee," o--"Doctor," 5-"Jill," 9-Carrie C. B. T., 5-Ella L. Bryan, 4-Nellie C. Graham, 5-T. K. M. and
C. H. S., i-Virginia Chinn and Willie B. Deas, x--Bessie McClure, 6-Harry K. Caner and Willie C. Wiedersheim, 7-Annie and
Willie Plumb, lo-Mars 0. Slocum, aa-E. A. Mather and Sister, 7-Oscar Townsend, Jr., --" (Edipus," z3-Roswell B. Lamson, xi
-"Helen's Babies," 8-Mary G. Smith, 3-G. O. West, 9-Susie, Willie, and Payson Smith, 7-Elisha Cook, 5-0. C. Turner, 13-
Frank J. Gutzwiler, 2-" Sairy Gamp," 7-Henry F. Archer, i-Alice Maud Kyte, x--May Beadle, 9--Ellie and Corrie, 9-Clarence
H. Reeves, i- Frank Osborne, i- Marie P. C., 6- C. R. McMillan, 2-A. C. McMillan, a-" The Stowe Family," 2- Charlie W. Power,
<-"Trailing Arbutus," i- Robert A. Gally, 6-Nannie Mac and Em G., 8-Florence Leslie Kyte, x--Mary L. Barclay, 5-Carol and
her sisters, z--Geo. T. Macauley, 7-Bella Wehl, 4-Edward Vultee, x2-Kitty Fulkerson, 3-Lida S. Penfield, i.