• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 The beautiful day
 Lindy
 The vain old woman
 The Tinkham brothers' tide-mil...
 Six little maidens
 Our special artist
 Memories of the zoological...
 The young mountain sheep
 The story of the castle
 Recollections of a drummer-boy
 The critics
 Sunrise - A Russian folk-story
 Swept away
 Zintha's fortune
 An August day by the sea-shore...
 The lady of the Chingachgook
 In summer-time
 Work and play for young folk: VII,...
 Counting their chickens
 The home-made Mother Goose
 For very little folk: Hello!
 For very little folk: Day...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00132
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00132
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: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    The beautiful day
        Page 722
        Page 723
        Page 724
    Lindy
        Page 725
        Page 726
    The vain old woman
        Page 727
    The Tinkham brothers' tide-mill
        Page 728
        Page 729
        Page 730
        Page 731
        Page 732
        Page 733
        Page 734
    Six little maidens
        Page 735
    Our special artist
        Page 736
        Page 737
        Page 738
        Page 739
        Page 740
        Page 741
        Page 742
        Page 743
        Page 744
        Page 745
        Page 746
        Page 747
        Page 748
    Memories of the zoological gardens
        Page 749
    The young mountain sheep
        Page 750
        Page 751
    The story of the castle
        Page 752
        Page 753
    Recollections of a drummer-boy
        Page 754
        Page 755
        Page 756
    The critics
        Page 757
    Sunrise - A Russian folk-story
        Page 758
        Page 759
        Page 760
    Swept away
        Page 761
        Page 762
        Page 763
        Page 764
        Page 765
        Page 766
        Page 767
    Zintha's fortune
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
    An August day by the sea-shore (picture)
        Page 768
    The lady of the Chingachgook
        Page 773
        Page 774
        Page 775
        Page 776
        Page 777
        Page 778
        Page 779
        Page 780
        Page 781
        Page 782
    In summer-time
        Page 783
    Work and play for young folk: VII, fly-fishing for black bass
        Page 784
        Page 785
        Page 786
        Page 787
    Counting their chickens
        Page 790
        Page 791
    The home-made Mother Goose
        Page 788
        Page 789
    For very little folk: Hello!
        Page 792
    For very little folk: Day and night
        Page 793
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 794
        Page 795
    The letter-box
        Page 796
        Page 797
        Page 798
    The riddle-box
        Page 799
        Page 800
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text



















15









































J


.. ,, "g ,, , ..

"AND WE TURNED BACK THE HANDS
TILL THEY POINTED TO TEN."
[Page 724.]


rr


II I,


















ST. NICHOLAS.




VOL. X. AUGUST, 1883. No. jo.

[Copyright, 1883, by THE CENTURY CO.]



THE BEAUTIFUL DAY.

BY MARGARET JOHNSON.

WE did not mean to do wrong," she said,
With a mist in her eyes of tears unshed,
Like the haze of the midsummer weather.
We thought you would all be as happy as we;
But something 'most always goes wrong, you see,
When we have our play-time together.

Before the dew on the grass was dry,
We were out this morning, Reuben and I,
And truly, I think that never-
For all that you and Mamma may say-
Will there be again such a happy day
In all the days of forever !

The sunshine was yellow as gold, and the skies
Were as sleepy and blue as the baby's eyes;
And a soft little wind was blowing
And rocking the daisy-buds to and fro:
We played that the meadows were white with snow,
Where the crowding blossoms were growing.

The birds and the bees flew about in the sun,
And there was not a thing that was sorry-not one,
That dear morning down in the meadow.
But we could not bear to think-Reuben and I-
That our beautiful day would be done, by and by,
And our sunshiny world dark with shadow.

So into the hall we quietly stepped.
It was cool and still, and a sunbeam crept
Through the door, and the birds were singing.







THE BEAUTIFUL DAY.


We stole as softly as we could go
To the clock at the foot of the stairs, you know,
With its big, bright pendulum swinging.

SWe knew that the sun dropped down out of heaven,
And brought the night, when the clock struck seven-
For so I had heard Mamma saying;
And we turned back the hands till they pointed to ten,
And our beautiful day began over again,
And then ran away to our playing.

I 'm afraid I can't tell you the rest," she said,
With a sorrowful droop of the fair little head,
And the misty brown eyes overflowing.
We had only been out such a few minutes more,
When, just as it always had happened before,
We found that our dear day was going.

" The shadows grew long, and the blue skies were gray,
And the bees and the butterflies all flew away,
And the dew on the grasses was falling.
The sun did not shine in the sky any more,
And the birds did not sing, and away by the door
We heard Mamma's voice to us calling.

" But the night will be done, I suppose, by and by;
And we have been thinking-Reuben and I-
That perhaps,"-and she smiled through her sorrow,
" Perhaps it may be, after all, better so,
For if to-day lasted forever, you know,
There would never be any to-morrow! "


[AUGUST,


! ;3r 'rglll'







LINDY.




LINDY.

By CHARLOTTE A. BUTTS.


OH, Daddy !" called a clear, girlish voice from
the kitchen door.
Yes, Lindy; what 's wanted? "
Ma wants to know how long it '11 be 'fore
you 're ready."
Oh, tell her I '11 be at the door by the time
she gets her things on. Be sure you have the but-
ter and eggs all ready to put into the wagon. We
're making' too late a start to town."
Butter and eggs, indeed As if Lindy needed a
reminder other than the new dress for which they)
were to be exchanged,
Elmer and I can go to town next time, can't
we, Ma ? she asked, entering the house.
Yes, Lindy; I hope so," was the reply. "But
don't bother me now; your pa is coming_ an-lrpadv.
and I have n't my shawl on yet. Y :. I. IL. ,
I 'm here. Just put this butter in, Lin.l, i i
carry the eggs in my lap. Now, Lindy. d.,'iC
let Elmer play with the fire or run a
And, Elmer, be a good boy and ,-
mind Lindy. Take care of your-
selves, children!"
And in a moment more the
heavy lumber wagon rattled away fr:...
the door, and the children stood gazi.- ,
after it, for awhile, in a half-forlorn ma,- i
ner. Then Lindy went in to do her w .1..
Elmer resumed his play, and soon e .: -
thing was moving along as cheerfully i: ..:.
After dinner, Elmer went to sleep, ar.i Li, .-
feeling rather lonely again, went out-o:-t.:....i In ..
change. It was a warm autumnal day, almost the
perfect counterpart of a dozen or more which had
preceded it. The sun shone brightly, and the hot
winds that swept through the tall grass made
that and all else it. touched so dry that the prairie
seemed like a vast tinder-box. Though her parents
had but lately moved to this place, Lindy was
accustomed to the prairies. She had been born
on them, and her eyes were familiar with nothing
else; yet, as she stood to-day with that brown,
unbroken expanse rolling away before her until it
reached the -pale bluish-gray of the sky, the inde-
scribable feeling of awe and terrible solitude which
such a scene often inspires in one not familiar with
it stole gradually over her. But Lindy was far too
practical to remain long under such an influence.
The chickens were "peeping" loudly, and she re-
membered that they were still without their dinner.
As she passed around the corner of the house


with a dish of corn in her hands, the wind almost
lifted her from the ground. It was certainly blow-
ing with greater violence than during the morning.
Great tumble-weeds went flying by, turning over
and over with almost lightning-like rapidity ; then,
pausing for an instant's rest, were caught by an-
other gust and carried along, mile
after mile, till some fence or oth-
er obstacle was reached,where they
could pile up in great drifts, and
wait till a brisk w ind from
an opposite direction
shouldsend them roll-
ing and tumbling
all the ly back.
But ,-. i.ndy did
.. i .. tice the


I--

,,


weeds.
The
T h e
dish of
corn
had fallen from
her hands, and


,_ t

"'

'.1 ." ,
_.^ :_ '~ -'. '_~, "*..





r -. '/ ", '
4L4






A~t I;
>- -4 --' ^?


she stood looking straight
ahead with wide-open, ter-
rified eyes.
What was the sight that so frightened her ?
Only a line of fire below the horizon. Only a
line of fire, with forked flames darting high into
the air and a cloud of smoke drifting away from
them. A beautiful relief, this bright, changing
spectacle, from the brown monotony of the prairie.
But the scene was without beauty for Lindy.
Her heart had given one great bound when she first
saw the red line, and then it seemed to cease beat-
ing. She had seen many prairie fires; had seen her


''--
R
i,







LIND Y


father and other men fight them, and she knew at
once the danger her home was in. What could she,
a little girl, do to save it, and perhaps herself and
her little brother, from the destroyer which the
south wind was bringing straight toward them?
Only for a moment Lindy stood, white and
motionless; then with a bound she was at the
well. Her course was decided upon. If only time
and strength were given her Drawing two pails
of water, she laid a large bag in each, and then,
getting some matches, hurried out beyond the
stable. She must fight fire with fire. That was
her only hope; but a strong, experienced man
would have shrunk from starting a back-fire in
such a wind.
She fully realized the danger, but it was possible
escape from otherwise inevitable destruction, and
she hesitated not an instant to attempt it. Cau-
tiously starting a blaze, she stood with a wet bag
in her hands, ready to smother the first unruly
flame.
The great fire to the southward was rapidly ap-
proaching. Prairie chickens and other birds, driven
from their nests,were flying over, uttering distressed
cries. The air was full of smoke and burnt grass,
and the crackling of the flames could plainly be


The extremity of the danger inspired her with
wonderful strength and endurance. Instead of
losing courage, she increased her almost super-
human exertions, and in another brief interval the
task was completed. None too soon either, for
the swiftly advancing column had nearly reached
the wavering, struggling, slow-moving line Lindy
had sent out to meet it.
It was a wild, fascinating, half terrible, half
beautiful scene. The tongues of flame, leaping
above each other with airy, fantastic grace,
seemed, cat-like, to toy with their victims before
devouring them.
A sudden, violent gust of wind, and then with a
great crackling roar the two fires met, the flames
shooting high into the air as they rushed together.
For one brief, glorious moment they remained
there, lapping the air with their fierce, hot tongues;
then, suddenly dropping, they died quickly out;
and where an instant before had been a wall of
fire was nothing now but a cloud of blue smoke
rising from the blackened ground, and here and
there a sickly flame finishing an obstinate tuft of
grass. The fire on each side, meeting no obstacle,
swept quickly by, and Lindy stood gazing, spell-
bound, after it as it darted and flashed in zigzag


LINDY FIGHTS THE PRAIRIE FIRE.
LINDY FIGHTS THE PRAIRIE FIRE.


heard. It was a trying moment. The increased
roar of the advancing fire warned Lindy that she
had but very little time in which to complete the
circle around house and barn; still, if she hurried
her work too much, she would lose control of
the fire she had started, and with it all hope of
safety.
The heat was intense, the smoke suffocating,
the rapid swinging of the heavy bag most exhaust-
ing, but she was unconscious of these things.


lines over ridges and through hollows, farther and
farther away.
Oh, Lindy called a shrill little voice from
the house. Elmer had just awakened.
"Yes, I'm coming," Lindy answered, turning.
But how very queer she felt There was a roar-
ing in her ears louder than the fire had made;
everything whirled before her eyes, and the sun
seemed suddenly to have ceased shining, all was
so dark. Reaching the house by a great effort,


726


[AUGUST,






THE VAIN OLD WOMAN.


she sank, faint, dizzy, and trembling, upon the bed
by her brother's side.
Elmer, frightened and hardly awake, began to
cry, and, as he never did anything in a half-way
manner, the result was quite wonderful. His fran-
tic shrieks and furious cries roused his half-faint-
ing sister as effectually as if he had poured a
glass of brandy between her lips. She soon sat
up, and by and by color began to return to the
white face and strength to the exhausted body.
Her practical nature and strong will again asserted
themselves, and instead of yielding to a feeling of
weakness and prostration, she tied on her sun-
bonnet firmly, and gave the chickens their long-
delayed dinner.
The northern sky was very beautiful that night.


The fire itself was too distant to be seen; but the
column of smoke rising from it in the then still
air was brilliantly lighted, and presented a grand
spectacle.
Lindy sat by the window, her new dress in her
lap, and her parents' praises still sounding in her
ears. She was very tired, but the scene without
had a sort of fascination for her, and she could not
go to bed.
Half an hour later her father found her fast
asleep, with the glow from the sky reflected on her
weary little face. He looked out of the window for
a moment, picturing to himself the terrible scenes
of the afternoon, and then down at his daughter. "A
brave girl!" he murmured, smoothing the yellow
hair with his hard, brown hand-" a brave girl! "


THE VAIN OLD WOMAN.
(Adapted fro/7 the German.)

BY ARLO BATES.


THERE was once an old woman so very poor
that she had no house, but lived in a hollow tree.
One day she found a piece of money lying in the
road. Full of joy at her good fortune, she began
to consider what she should buy with the money.
If I get anything to eat," she said to herself,
"I shall quickly devour it, and that will be the
end of the matter. That will not do at all. If I
buy clothes, people will call me proud, and that
will not do; and besides I have no closet to keep
them in. Ah! I have it! I will buy a broom,
and then everybody that I meet will think I have
a house. A broom is the thing. A broom it
shall be."
So the old woman went into the next town and
bought a broom. She walked proudly along with
her purchase, looking about her all the time to
see if people noticed her and looked envious,
thinking of her house. But as no one seemed to
remark her, she began to be discontented with
her bargain.
"Does everybody have a house except me?"
she said to herself, crossly. I wish I had bought
something else "
Presently she met a man carrying a small jar
of oil.
This is what I want," exclaimed the old


woman; anybody can have a house, but only
the truly rich can have oil to light it with."
So she bartered her broom for the oil, and went
on more proudly than ever, holding the jar so that
all could see it. Still she failed to attract any
particular notice, and she was once more discon-
tented. As she went moodily along she met a
woman with a bunch of large flowers.
"Here, at last, I have what I want," the old
woman thought. If I can get these, all that
see me will believe I am just getting my house
ready for a brilliant party. Then they 'll be jealous,
I hope."
So when the woman with the flowers came close
to her she offered her oil for them, and the other
gladly made the change.
"Now I am indeed fortunate she said to her-
self. Now I am somebody "
But still she failed to attract attention, and, hap-
pening to glance at her old dress, it suddenly
occurred to her that she might be mistaken for a
servant carrying flowers for her master. She was
so much vexed by the thought that she flung the
bouquet into the ditch, and went home to her tree
empty-handed.
"Now I am well rid of it all," she said to her-
self.


1883.1







THE TINKHAM BROTHERS' TIDE-MILL.


_0 mm
I _- ~ 1

Izi


W GO


YOUNG SHIP-BUILDER: "'COURSE IT 'LL FLOAT. BUT, NELLIE, YOU MUST KEEP IT FROM FLOATING OUT WHILE 1 KEEP
IT FROM FLOATING IN."


THE TINKHAM BROTHERS' TIDE-MILL.*

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XXX.

CALM BEFORE STORM.

IT was true enough that the mill was going
again that forenoon "as if nothing unusual had
happened." Such rest as the boys got must have
been taken before ten o'clock; for at that hour,
the tide favoring, flash-boards were set and wheels
and lathes merrily whirling.
"The editor ought to have added," Mart pen-
ciled at the bottom of the article in his scrap-book,
I that the T. Brothers did not lose the use of their
water-power for even five minutes in consequence


of the dam's having been torn away. It was ready
again, and so were we, long before the water was."
To add to their triumph, the court refused to
grant the injunction against rebuilding, which was
actually applied for before it was known that the
rebuilding was an accomplished fact.
Their position appeared now to be stronger than
ever. They were running their mill in open de-
fiance of all the power and influence that could be
brought to bear against them by the Argonaut
Club and the authorities of both towns, yet not in
defiance of what they firmly believed to be law and
justice.
Tranquil days followed. The boys were able to


"Copyright, 1882, by J. T Trowbridge. All rights reserved.


_ _~ ~ ~I __ ~P~~_~


728


[AUGUST,






TIHE TIN KIAM BROTHERS TIDE-MILL


keep their engagements, and also to start some
new projects. In the midst of all, Mart found time
to finish a wheeled chair he had for some time
been making for his mother; while Lute and Rush
gave their leisure moments to building a boat.
The chair was a comfortable as well as a very
ingenious affair; and never was there a happier
family than when, one Monday morning in May,
the widow took her first airing in it, attended by
all her children. She could easily work the levers
and propel the wheels herself; but, bless you the
boys would not allow that, while they were there
to compete for the pleasure of pushing it. And
oh, what a day it was! The air was soft and
fragrant with blossoms. The door-yard turf was
starred with bright dandelions. The pear-trees
were like white bouquets; the apple-trees pink
with just opening buds. And the great willow
was, as Letty said, "one glory of young leaves
and yellow tassels."
The edge of the still river below for it was full
tide --was laced with the golden pollen which
every breeze shook down, and the boughs were
filled with the summer-like hum of bees.
To and fro, along the edge of the high bank
and then about the garden, the widow rode, like
a queen in state," she said, enjoying every sight
and sound and sweet scent wafted by the wind,
yet taking more delight in the society of her chil-
dren than in all beside. Letty wished her to see
the pansies in bloom; but she found more pleas-
ure in the rows of peas, now well up, because they
were the first things ever planted by the younger
boys, and they were, oh, so proud of them !
Then she returned to the bank above the river,
and sat there, looking at the water and the land-
scape, and hearkening to the bees and the talk of
the young folks, until the church-bells began to
ring.
It's a long time since I have been to church,"
she said, with a sigh.
Well, you can go, now you have your c-c-car-
riage," said Lute.
"Any of us will be proud to be your horses,"
Rush added. Will you try it next Sunday ?"
I 'll see. I should like to have the Tammoset
and Dempford folks know that we are not such
heathens as they seem to take us for."
"There are some Dempford heathens for you,"
said Mart, from the tree, looking down the river.
Members in good and regular standing of the
Argonaut Club," said Rush.
"It's the B-b-buzrow," remarked Lute, adjust-
ing his spectacles. I wonder if he has got his
c-c-crow-bar with him."
Buzrow did not have his bar; or, if he had, he
did not attempt to use it, under the eyes of the


young Tinkhams in the tree. His boat, contain-
ing two young Argonauts besides himself, passed
quietly up the river, to the widow's great relief.
"They don't ask me where our dam is, as they
did that night," laughed Rush. They must love
the sight of it! "
"However that may be," said the widow, "I
hope and pray that they have made up their
minds to let it alone "
"You hope too m-much, Mother," said Lute.
"They've no more concluded to let it alone than
we have to let it be t-t-taken away."
"What's that under your feet, Martin?" the
widow suddenly asked.
From her chair at the end of the plank, she had
discovered that the hollow formed by the circle of
branches at the top of the immense willow trunk
was filled with pebbles and stones- many of them
as big as boys' fists.
"'These?'' drawled Mart, looking down, with
his knee on one of the seats. They are the
boys' ammunition."
"Ammunition! exclaimed Mrs. Tinkham.
"Of course, Mother!" cried Rupert. "And
this tree is our fort. If there's another attack
on the dam, you'll see! Rod and I brought the
stones up here in baskets, to be all ready."
This is the way Look, Mother! said Rod, in
the tree. And catching up one of the pebbles, he
flung it at an imaginary enemy.
He peered eagerly between the branches till it
struck the water just below the dam; then dodged
behind a seat, as if expecting a shot in return, at
the same time catching up more pebbles.
Stop, stop, child said the widow, smiling
in spite of herself at his little attitudes and alert
spirit. "If people should see you, they'd think
we were heathens indeed "
Meanwhile, Buzrow was saying to his companions
in the boat:
"That dam makes me mad as I can be, every
time I pass it. To see it still there, after all that's
been said and done, and the sassy fellers on the
bank laughing in their sleeves at us-it's a dis-
grace to the club it's a disgrace to the towns
it's a disgrace to human natur "
"You promised to tear it away yourself," said
Ned Lufford. "We all supposed you would."
There was a tinge of sarcasm in the tone in
which this was spoken, and the cow-smiter's son
noticed on Ned's face a smile he did n't like.
So I would, if I had n't waited for the club to
take action," he replied, his coarse features red-
dening to the complexion of a dingy overgrown
beet.
You waited for the club, and the club waited
for the two towns, and the two towns waited till


1883.] '






THE TINKHAM BROTHERS TIDE-MILL.


the mill-owners were away and only a crippled
woman at home," said Ned, with a laugh.
"Then a gang of hired men did the work,"
added George Hawkins. 'iAnd see what it all
amounts to The dam was back again in ten or
twelve hours, and there it's likely to stay."
"No, sir!" said Buzrow, bringing down that
brawny fist of his with an emphatic blow on the
gunwale of the boat. He felt that he was losing
influence with his companions, and that some
decisive step must be taken. I've stood it long
enough! If we can't tear that miserable dam
away as fast as five boys can rebuild it, we're a
-lot of figgerheads, and don't merit the title of a
club anyway."
We have n't gained much by swapping com-
modores, as I see," Ned Lufford said. "Web can
brag -but what does brag amount to ?"
As Buzrow had been rather louder than anybody
else in the said matter of brag, he felt himself
lashed over Web's shoulders.
And what's the use of a mill-dam committee ?"
said George Hawkins. "Is it going to take all
summer to talk over measures, as they call it, for
getting rid of a dam the owners rebuilt in one
night ? "
The owners did n't stop to talk, Ned Lufford
added, "but went to work like plucky fellows!
Are the committee afraid of 'em? 'Scuse me, Milt!
I'd forgot you was one of the committee."
Whether he had forgotten it or not, Lufford
evidently, like Hawkins, took pleasure in goading
their companion.
"I am one of the committee!" Buzrow ex-
claimed. "And .'ve tried my best to bring the
boys to decide on something. Now, I don't wait
no longer for them, nor for the club, nor for the
towns. If I can get ten or a dozen fellers to go
with me some night, I'll engage to have that dam
away before the Tinkhams can wake up and rub
their eyes open. Of course you'll agree to be one,
Ned? and you, George?"
After such remarks as they had indulged in, the
two could not reasonably decline.
Now, here are three of us pledged said Buz-
row. "And we can get seven or eight more easy
enough. We must go in strong force, so as to do
our work up in good shape and make it a sure
thing."
:"I suppose it will be as well to get the com-
mittee to move, if we can," suggested Lufford,
with rapidly cooling zeal.
"And hit updn some plan for ripping out the
whole thing, and not simply breaking a few boards
and stakes," added Hawkins. "There's no use
o' that. "
"Not without we do. it often enough to make


the Tinkhams sick of their bargain," Buzrow
admitted. But I've got an idea. No noise-no
danger-just a little preparation-then, presto!
out goes the dam in a jiffy We don't leave the
mud-sill to be put back again, neither "
Tell us about it! both friends exclaimed,
their zeal kindling again at the thought of the work
being accomplished so melodramatically, yet with-
out peril to themselves.
And Buzrow proceeded, with solemn charges of
secrecy, to unfold his plan.


CHAPTER XXXI.

AN ATTACK.

IF the plan was a good one, and a sufficient
number of volunteers were found for putting it in
execution, then they must have had to wait some
time for a night favorable to their enterprise.
Two weeks went by, and the Tinkham brothers
were still left in tranquil enjoyment of their water-
power.
Lute was generally the one who slept in the
mill, not only because a peculiar sensitiveness to
sounds seemed to have been given him to com-
pensate for his nearness of sight, but also because,
as he averred, he had got used to his bed of shav-
ings, and rather liked it.
He had one night lain down, as was his custom,
with his clothes on,-merely kicking off his shoes
and placing his spectacles on the end of the work-
bench,-and had slept comfortably about three
hours, when he was awakened by a sound like the
clanking of a chain.
He was on his feet in a moment; but in his
eagerness to get his glasses he knocked them off
the bench into the bed of shavings. He lost no
time searching for them, but hastened to the open
window on the side of the dam, and softly put out
his head.
There was a moon somewhere in the sky, but it
was a cloudy, drizzling night, and without the help
of his glasses he could not distinguish one object
from another. But again he heard, though not
so plainly as before, a sound like the muffled
clanking of a chain.
It seemed to be on the farther bank of the river;
and, listening intently, he believed he could hear
footsteps moving about. Then came a little splash-
ing of the water, quite different from the murmur
of the outgoing tide where it poured through the
opening in the dam.
Lute stepped quickly to the end of the bench,
found the twine looped over its nail, and drew it
tight with a single firm but gentle pull. That
was the signal for secrecy and haste.


AUGUST,


730







1883.] THE TINKHAM BRC


A responsive pull, not quite so gentle, assured
him that Mart was roused. He then groped in
the shavings for his spectacles, found them, and
put them on. By that time, Mart had awakened
Rocket, who in turn shook the sleep out of Rupe
and Rod; and such a scrambling for clothes, and
such a tumbling out-of-doors ensued, as that old
house had never before known.
Lute was at the window again, with all his senses
alert, when Mart, half dressed, in shirt and trou-
sers and shoes, came swiftly and without noise
into the mill and glided to his side.
What's going on over there ? Lute whispered.
"Do you see something?"
Dim objects could be vaguely discerned on the
opposite bank, and a dull, tramping sound was
heard, heavier than that made by any ordinary
human footsteps. Then a light clicking or jing-
ling, as of a trace or some part of a harness.
Horses breathed Mart.
Horses and men !" whispered Rush, who was
at the window almost as soon as his brother.
"The shore is covered with 'em "
Then once more the splashing at the farther
end of the dam; and Lute told of the clanking
sound by which he had been awakened.
"I believe they're trying to hitch on to the
mud-sill and drag the whole thing out t-t-to-
gether! was his shrewd comment.
"That's their game !" said Mart.
He turned to the two younger ones, who were
also crowding to the window by this time, and
gave them swift orders what to do. While they
hastened to execute them, he reached for an old
shop-coat that hung over the work-bench, and put
it on. This he did that he might be a less con-
spicuous object to the enemy, when the time
should come to expose himself, than he would be
if seen in his white shirt-waist.
LYte had guessed well the design of the Argo-
nauts. Their plot had been well laid, thanks to
wiser heads than Buzrow's; and it might easily
have -i:.:.:d.-.1. but for an unforeseen circum-
stance. To get a log-chain around the mud-sill,
hitch to it the powerful truck-horses hired for the
occasion, and then, by one strong, steady pull in
the right direction, tear away the whole structure
at once, breaking stakes and spilings, or pulling
them up -a bright idea, was n't it? Well, this
was what Buzrow had heard somebody say should
have been done before when the dam was de-
stroyed, and which it had been determined to do
now.
Then the wreck, so the Argonauts reasoned,
could be dragged off down the bed of the river
by the horses, still attached, taken to some con-
venient spot, and there broken up and burned or set


9


TIGERS TIDE-MILL. 731


adrift, at leisure. Any number of volunteers might
have been enlisted in what promised to be so glori-
ous an enterprise. But in order to insure secrecy
beforehand and silence on the spot, only a dozen
picked Argonauts had been let into the scheme.
They were now on the Dempford shore, with the
three draught-horses and their driver, a spade, an
auger, and a chain, and bars and axes to be used
in an emergency. The tools had been brought in
a boat, which was hauled ashore a little below the
dam. The spade was for digging under the mud-
sill, the auger for boring holes in the boards above
and the spilings below, and the chain for passing
through and locking around afterward.
This was to be done near the end of the sill, but
not too near, lest the chain, in hauling, should slip
off. A spot was selected about four feet from the
bank. The spilings were found, and gravel enough
got away from them to give the auger room to
work. To bore a hole or two under water had
been thought easy enough, and a much more silent
operation than knocking away the boards with ax
or bar.
But now the unforeseen circumstance played its
little part.
Buzrow, booted and clad for the occasion, like
the rest, stooped in the water, which was not now
nearly so high as when the dam was first torn
away, and plied the long-stemmed auger.
But neither Buzrow nor any of his fellow Argo-
nauts had fully taken in the fact that the mud-sill,
which before lay on the bed of the river, was now
sunken well into it. Consequently, he bored his first
hole into the timber, instead of simply boring
through the spiling under it. A second hole was
no more lucky. Then the spade had to be used
again, to get out more gravel. At last, however,
he hit the right place. Another hole was made in
the board that rested on the sill. Then the chain
was worked through both holes and locked about
the timber.
At last everything was ready. The horses, har-
nessed tandem, were to start on the bank, in order
to give the sill an upward slant that might draw
out the spilings with it; they were then to be
turned into the bed of the river, and driven off
down-stream, hauling after them the dam, or as
much of it as should hold together.
The driver waited for the word. Buzrow took
hold of the heavy rope, which extended from the
last whiffletree, in order to hook it to the chain.
But the delay had caused the horses to grow impa-
tient in their strange situation. Having started a
few steps forward, they had now to be backed up
again. Buzrow was straining at the rope with one
hand and holding the chain with the other, and
two or three Argonauts were helping him,--six





THE TINKHAM BROTHERS' TIDE-MILL.


inches more and the rope would have been hooked,
-when thud! patter! splash came a volley of
stones.
One hit Buzrow on the back. But he still.held
on, and would have hooked the chain, had not
another struck the rear horse. That started him
up again; and Buzrow, even if he had had the
strength of the man whose fist knocked down a
cow, could not have clung to both rope and chain
at once, without having those burly shoulders of
his dislocated. He dropped the chain, and tug-
ged at the rope until it was jerked from his hands
and he found himself hurled headlong against the
bank in a heap with the assisting Argonauts.
"Whoa! whoa!" he muttered. "Can't you
hold your horses?"
Evidently the driver could not, or did not care
to, with more stones striking the animals' flanks
and hurtling mysteriously about his own head. -
There was an ignominious retreat, in which Buz-
row himself was glad to join; and, in less than half
a minute, not a figure of man or beast was to be
seen by the Tinkham boys from the other shore.
There was a rally at the boat, where Buzrow
and the boldest of his followers tried to induce the
truckman to go back with his team and make
another trial.
We can hook on in a second," Milt said.
Then let the horses run if they want to! Who
cares for a few stones?"
The stones had in fact ceased coming, and
everything was quiet in the direction of the mill.
If you care so little for the stones," the team-
ster finally said, go and make a diversion by
attacking the other end of the dam; draw their
fire, so my horses will stand till we get hitched on.
I'll agree to that."
A confused discussion followed. Some were for
gathering "rocks" to throw at the mill; to which
others objected that the volley which drove them
off did not come from the mill at all, and that break-
ing a few windows would not do much toward
breaking the dam. Their business was with that.
"We must decide on something," said Ned
Lufford, or we may as well give up and go home."
"Go home and leave that dam there!" ex-
claimed Buzrow, stung to fury by the hurts he
had received and by the thought of such failure.
'"Never! Come on, boys!"
"What are you going to do?" asked George
Hawkins.
Make a diversion, as Balch says. Two of you
help him hitch on to the chain. I and four or five
more will pitch into the dam with our axes and
bars, while the rest of you find out where the
rocks come from-if any more come-and have
some to fire back."


CHAPTER XXXII.

THE BATTLE OF THE DAM.

IMMEDIATELY all the Argonauts, except Buz-
row himself, began to search for projectiles along
the shore. To choose one's position and skirmish
with stones seemed a much more attractive part
than to walk boldly up to the dam and be stoned.
Naturally, almost any boy would prefer it; and
the Argonauts were human.
Then, when Buzrow put a stop to that non-
sense, as he called it, and appointed only four
skirmishers, all the rest wanted to assist in attach-
ing the horses to the chain. But that would h't
do, either.
"Let George Hawkins and Frank Veals go with
Balch," he said. They understand it. The rest
come with me "
While the others were gathering stones, Buzrow
had taken the opportunity to stuff a big boat-
sponge into the crown of his felt hat. They had
no such defense against dangerous missiles, nor
did they know what made him so ready to lead
them into battle. No doubt they supposed it was
the native Buzrow courage. But I suspect it was
the boat-sponge.
"It wont take half a minute he declared.
"As soon as the team starts and the dam begins
to crack, we're out of the way "
Those he called upon could not well refuse to fol-
low his heroic example. They armed themselves
with axes and bars, buttoned their coats, turned up
the collars, and pulled their hats over their eyes.
The water was nowhere leg-deep, and all had rub-
ber boots on.
All ready? said Buzrow.
All were ready. They stood in the rain, facing
the dam, and waiting for the word to charge.
Nothing could be seen before them but the dim
outline of the shore, the pale glimmer of the river,
and the gloomy mass of the high bank beyond.
In that deep shadow, the shape of the mill could
hardly be discovered.
Balch and his team made a detour. The skir-
mishers advanced noiselessly up the bank. Then
Buzrow, having allowed the horses time to get
abreast of the dam, gave the word:
Now, boys "
And the intrepid six rushed into the river.
To attract attention, they made all the noise
they could on their way to the dam, hoping it
would begin to go before they had a chance to
attack it. But Balch and his assistants were not
quick enough for that.
Carrying his head well before him, conscious of
the boat-sponge, Buzrow made a lunge at the dam


732


[AUGUST,






THE TINKHAM BROTHERS' TIDE-MILL.


with his bar-not at the end nearest the mill (per-
haps out of deference to Rush and his well-remem-
bered bean-pole), but yet far enough from the
Dempford shore to divert the expected volley of
stones from that quarter.
Excellent strategy in that respect it proved;
though the credit of suggesting it belonged not
to the warlike Argonauts, but to the dull-witted
driver of draught-horses.
Buzrow's followers fell in at his right, consider-
ately leaving him the honor of standing at the
post of greatest danger, on the side of the mill.


hit on the shoulder. A second stone struck his left
arm -a stinging but not a disabling shot, the
perverse projectiles appearing to alight anywhere
except on the sponge-stuffed cushion prepared for
them.
"Why don't they hitch on? he furiously
exclaimed. We must fall back if they don't "
Ned Lufford had already fallen back, dizzy and
staggering from the effect of a well-aimed pebble
which found no boat-sponge inside his hat. One
or two others were faltering.
Meanwhile, something quite different from a


"LUTE AND RUSH EMPLOYED THEIR LEISURE MOMENTS IN BUILDING A BOAT." (PAGE 729.)


At the first stroke upon the dam, the stones began
to come, all in the direction of the attacking party
in front, not one straying far enough to interfere
with the more important movement on the flank.
Whiz thump splash I crash !
The sounds made by the missiles mingled wild-
ly with the noise of bars and axes smiting the
dam. At the same time, the skirmishers, perceiv-
ing by the way the stones struck the water that
they must come from the shore above the mill,
opened a heavy return fire in that direction, with-
out, however, silencing the Tinkham battery.
Still the mud-sill did not start, although in the
excitement of battle it seemed to Buzrow that
there had been time enough to pull the whole
thing away.
At the very beginning of the attack he had been


pebble had once or twice touched the back of Buz-
row's upturned coat-collar, and slipped away so
lightly that he thought nothing of it.
It came from the door-way of the mill, and was
quickly drawn back in that direction. Then it shot
out again invisible, the long arm also invisible
which projected it over the platform.
Then two hands hauled in -with something to
haul this time.
The lightly flying, unseen object was a lasso,
which, after twice missing the mark, had dropped
its insinuating supple noose over the sponge-pro-
tected head, and tightened at the chin below.
Buzrow gave a suppressed yelp, dropping his
bar and throwing up both hands, and in an instant
started toward the mill in a most astonishing
fashion.







734 THE TINKHAM BR(

The two hands hauling were Mart's. To them
was now added another pair; and never did huge,
floundering fish emerge more suddenly or more
helplessly from the deep than Buzrow the valiant
tumbled out of the shallow river upon the platform
and into the clutches of his captors.
In vain his hands caught and struggled at the
lasso. It had found a tender spot just above the
coat-collar and under the chin, and to avoid in-
stantaneous choking he had been only too ready
to follow whither it led.
The Argonaut who stood beside him heard the
short and quickly choked yell, and observed his
sudden strange movements. Not knowing the
cause, he drew the too hasty inference that Milt
had been seriously hurt and that he was plunging
to the shelter of the mill.
He started to follow. A third Argonaut followed
him. But just as the two latter neared the plat-
form, crack! crack fell something more substan-
tial than a lasso on their unprotected heads.
Flashes of fire were instantly knocked out of them,
together with all ideas of seeking shelter in a
quarter which dispensed hospitalities of that sort.
They recoiled, reeling and stumbling, into the
river. One dodged under the platform, just as
the gasping and flopping Buzrow was hauled head-
long over it into the mill. The other recovered
himself and took to flight, keeping step to a vig-
orous tattoo on his back and shoulders, played by
a bean-pole instead of a drumstick.
Then Rush stood alone on the platform (not
knowing what was under it), brandishing his weap-
on, ready for fresh comers.
No fresh comers appeared, the remaining Ar-
gonauts at the dam also plashing off in a panic-
stricken way down the river.
Still the mud-sill did not move! The reason
for this was that the boys could not hitch to the
log-chain. The reason why they could not hitch to it
was that there was no log-chain there For this,
also, there was a very excellent reason.
The stratagem by which the fire of the Tinkham


)


OTHERS TIDE-MILL. [AUGUST,


battery was to be diverted was good, as I have said,
as far as it went. But a counter stratagem had gone
beyond that.
While the Argonauts were rallying at the boat
and gathering stones on the beach, Lute had crossed
the stream under cover of the dam, found the
chain in the water, unlocked it, and pulled it away.
He had then pushed back the loose gravel against
the sill with his feet, and afterward recrossed in
safety and silence before the final attack began.
Much time was lost by Hawkins and Veals in
searching for the chain; then a good deal more in
exploring for the bored holes, which Lute had
covered. For they now hoped to get the rope
around the timber in place of the chain, and haul
it off in that way.
But things happened too fast for them. The
Argonauts had retreated from the dam, and Buz-
row was a captive in the mill, bound hand and
foot, and admonished still further to keep quiet
by a noose about his neck, which could be so
easily tightened in an emergency Rupe and Rod
were thus left free to turn their attention to the
men and horses on the bank, who were soon glad
enough to retreat again out of range of the pelting
stones.
Meanwhile, the skirmishers, finding their pockets
nearly empty of ammunition, had reserved their
last volleys until they perceived, from their posi-
tion above the dam, that some action was taking
place at the corner of the mill.
There's where the rocks come from! said
one. Let drive, boys "
The action was already over, however. At the
first stohe, Rush stepped quietly inside and closed
the door. A second came through the open win-
dow, but hurt nobody. A third struck the plat-
form; while others, aimed too low, seemed to take
effect under it. For now the poor fellow'crouch-
ing there ran out, wildly shrieking, "It's me,
boys it's me and made off with a great splash-
ing, amidst the last volleys fired by his brother
Argonauts.


(To be continued.)


.i'

~pb~'


'







SIX LITTLE MAIDENS.




SIX LITTLE MAIDENS.


I I ,


V '- i









S --- ,


BY R. W. LOWRIE.

I 'LL tell you a story, I '11 sing you a song,
It 's not very short and it 's not very long,-
Of six little maidens : in white they were dressed,
And each was the sweetest and each was the best.

Invited for four-well, now, let me see:
Waiting was dull, so they got there at three.
There were little Miss Katie and Nellie and Sue,
And little Miss Bessie and Polly and Prue.

It might have been June, if it had n't been May,
The first of the month, and a beautiful day;
They kissed when they met, as the ladies all do -
Kate, Susie, and Nell; Bess, Polly, and Prue.


They danced and they skipped and they sang and they played,
And they formed pretty groups
in the sun and the shade;
S j .'-,,I, i id, when they asked
I ... whichh I was fond,-
f L ,!f .*r -l .s are the dearest,
..... i i are the blonde."


.'. i i,.i 1 night, as I bade
r .,dieu at the gate,
E.i:... r-ly, and Prue, and
i.:. ellie, and Kate,-
-.. i shed that good-
bye !" could have
',, -d been "how-d'y'-
Sdo!"
':' And I said:
"Come at
b' three so
to get
S- them at
S '


S

-~~~~" N ,- cI'~






736


Now, boys and girls, this is going to be a true
story-at least, mostly true, and true stories, you
know (or, if you don't know, some day or other
you will find out), are often a good deal stranger
and funnier than made-up ones. Not that this
story is going to be very, very strange, or very,
very funny, but it will be strange and funny enough,
I hope, to be interesting; at any rate, it is just what
might happen to any boy who should go and
do what Ben Brady did. But perhaps I should
begin by telling who Ben Brady was. Well, then,
Ben Brady was, or rather is (for Ben is alive and
well this very minute, and you may be sure he
will stare to find hirlself put into ST. NICHOLAS),
Ben, I say, is a nice, bright boy who lives in the
pretty country town of Dashville, and is the only
son of Mrs. Elizabeth Brady, a widow lady, who
regards Ben as the apple of her eye. Ben is
really fourteen years old; but you would never in
the world suspect it, for he is n't a bit bigger than
Johnny Townsend, across the way, who will not
be twelve till the fifth day of next October. Now,
it was just because he was so small that every-
body thought what Ben did was so wonderful. It
really was n't so very extremely wonderful, as you
will see, but it certainly was rather odd. In the
first place, he went and bought a tourograph.
What! you don't know what a tourograph is?
Why, my dears, it's nothing in the world but a
photographic apparatus to take pictures at home.
Ben had saved up a little money which he had
earned doing chores out of school, and when he
heard what a fashionable thing it is nowadays for
young gentlemen and ladies to take pictures at
home, and when he found out how easily it is
done, and that it does n't cost- a great deal, he
quietly made up his mind, and without saying
anything to anybody he went off and bought a
camera, and a three-legged standard to hold the
camera, and the little frames to print with, and
the ruby light, and a lot of dry plates, all pre-
pared to take pictures on, and a little piece of
black cloth to go over his head and shut out the
light when he squinted into the camera, and in fact
the whole apparatus, and took them home to his
astonished mamma.
Next, he lost no time in turning his room into
a photographic gallery, moved the bed and the
chairs into a corner, put up some cotton screens,
made a romantic landscape, representing a weeping
willow, a broken pillar, and an urn, out of some


strips of wall-paper, for his sitters to pose before;
and having turned the whole room into a scene of
wild confusion, made spots all over the carpet, and
filled the air with a bad smell of chemicals, he
declared himself ready to take pictures. He be-
gan practicing upon his mamma, his aunt Han-
nah, his cousin Jane, and the cook, filling in odd
times with the dog and cat when he could n't get
people. The fact that these early pictures were
not a success, and that only the most experienced
eye could distinguish his aunt Hannah from the
cook, did not in the least discourage Ben; he laid
the blame wholly upon the sitters themselves,
declaring that he never could make any of them
"look lively," or hold their chins high enough
in the air, although his cousin Jane indignantly
declared she held her chin just as high as it would
go, and as for looking lively, she was n't going to
sit ten minutes grinning at a crack in the wall for
anybody.
Perhaps by this time you have all found out that
Ben was a spoiled child. Well, I must confess he
was, if not exactly spoiled, at least very much petted
and indulged. His mother let him have his own
way in everything which was not really wrong or
harmful. So this was how it happened that he was
allowed to go away with the Dashville cadets on
their annual camping-out excursion. Ben's cousin,
William Jones, was a lieutenant in the cadets, and
he promised to take care of Ben if his mother
would let him go. Thereupon, Ben began to tease
his mother, and as he had always been a pretty
good boy and had never got into serious mischief,
and as she had great confidence in Lieutenant Jones,
and as, moreover, she knew it would be a bitter disap-
pointment to Ben if she said no, his mother finally
consented. Then you ought to have seen Ben and
heard Ben; he jumped over the chairs and he
shouted Hurrah! till he was quite hoarse; he
ran over and got Johnny Townsend, and marched
up and down all the rest of the day beating a
drum, and made poor Johnny go before, waving a
flag till his little arms ached again.
And so, for the next day and two or three days
afterward,-in fact, till it was time for them to go,
-there was nothing heard but "camping out."
In an unlucky moment Ben determined to take
his tourograph, and that is how I came to tell this
story, for if he had left the tourograph at home I
should have had no story to tell.
By and by the day came. Ben was up early


[AUGUST,


OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.




OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.

BY EDWIN LASSETTER BYNNER.






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


and packed his apparatus safely in the bottom
of his trunk, while his good-natured mamma
put his clothes all about it so that it might not
break; and among other things she put in a
nice box, containing paper and enve- _
lopes and postage stamps and a sty- --
lographic pen, and mad.:
Ben promise to write


here there was a fine ,
bustle. All the boys in *' -
town were assembled and
a big crowd of grown-up I .... -
pie beside; the band was play- "
ing gayly, the cadets' had just ar-
rived, and were that moment wheel-
ing up in front of the platform; a large
flag was flying over the depot, and the
people were cheering at the tops of th
voices. Ben's heart bounded with deligl
He felt himself so like a soldier going off
the wars, and such a very bold and ma
took possession of him, and he so long
cadet and have a handsome blue-and-v
form, and he was altogether so filled an
with enthusiasm, that his very jacket-
nearly burst off.
"There he is cried Johnny Townsei
from the midst of the crowd, pointing
at Ben, whereupon all the other boys
set up a great shout, and were as b
envious of Ben as Ben was of the
cadets. Indeed, they could scarcely
believe their eyes when they
presently saw Lieutenant
VOL. X.-47.


Jones go and help Ben out of the
carriage, and then take him up
and actually introduce him
to the Captain.
But pretty soon the
Ssteam-whistle began to
toot, and the bell to
ring, and the
S._y I band to play
[-lin; and
Srthenthe
cadets
i -_ filed
into


'- _)the cars,

sweethearts
handed them
pretty bouquets
---: through the win-
'-'.- dows, and every-
.'. body said good-
1: bye at least a half-
dozen times; and
so at last off they
went, singing Sherman's
S March Through Georgia."
eir It took them some hours
t. to get to the place where
to they were going, so that
rtial spirit '- it was nearly sunset when
d to be a < .1 / they arrived. The camp-
hite uni- ing-ground was a beautiful
d inflated rield, bounded on the north
buttons .id east by some dark green
i *-vuods, and sloping on the west
nd toward the highway, commanding,
too, a distant view of the sea. Such a
hubbub as there was unpacking and getting
to rights! Ben was delighted. The men
went straight to work pitching their tents and
making up their little cot-beds; the cooks hur-
ried to and fro, making fires and getting out
their pots and pans to cook supper; the guards






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


[AUGUST,


were mounted, and all were as busy as so many well that I need not explain it. Now, ever so
bees. many people think that is all there is to be done,
Ben was assigned to Lieutenant Jones's quarters, that the picture is now taken, and there's an end
where, after a hearty supper, he went straight to bed, of it. Well, so it is taken; but you would never
quite tired out with all the fatigue and excitement. know it. The plate looks just exactly as it did be-


F
~
I,

-


/


J --

I-k--~


The next morning, Ben was awakened early by
the reveille, or, as the cadets all called it, "the
revelay," and, springing up, dressed himself hastily
and hurried out to the field, which looked as
though it had been strewn with jewels, all glittering
as it was in the morning dew. And there were the
cadets, already drawn up in their fatigue dress,
going through the roll-call. The woods behind re-
sounded with the songs of birds, while far off lay
the dark-blue sea sparkling in the sun's rays. Al-
together, it was such a beautiful picture that it
straightway reminded Ben of his tourograph, and
so he went directly and got out the instrument.
Off to the left of the field there was a little green
knoll, from which the camp looked very pretty,
with the group of white tents pitched on the green
grass, the colors floating from the flag-staff in the
morning breeze, and the soldiers gathered in little
knots here and there for conversation. Thither
Ben went to set up his camera, and directly a group
of soldiers gathered about him, wondering what
such a little boy was doing with such a big instru-
ment. Ben was, at first, somewhat abashed, and
looked very sheepish to find himself the center of
such a group of spectators. They asked him a
great many questions as he was adjusting his lens,
and were very curious to see the result of his work.
Ben had never taken any pictures out-of-doors be-
fore, and was anxious to see them himself. So,
when he had taken three or four views, he hurried
back to the tent to develop them, quite nervous
with anticipation of the wonder and admiration his
pictures would excite.
But I must stop here a minute to explain to
all those girls and boys who don't know already
just how to take a photograph, that there are two
or three things necessary in order to make a pict-
ure. First, you have to put your plate into the
camera, pull off the little cap in front, and expose
it to the sunlight. You all know that part of it so


'II Ill',
* I


jilt,


I..3~


fore you pi
'the camera;
is n't a sigi
ure on it-
line, not a
that you c
But-and
wonder--


-..?..


.. "

i i'
i -

-/ i : ,







ut it into U .
a. There
n of a pict- "
-not a
mark, C
an see.
this is the
the picture real- \' Iv is


there


all the time, although you \ can not see
it. So the next thing to do is to bring it
out; that's what is called "developing" it. And
how do you suppose they do it ? Why, they take
it into a very dark place, and pour on it a kind of
fluid with a difficult name, and soak it in this
fluid till pretty soon one little point, then another
little point, then the whole outline, and at last the


738






OUR SPECI


entire picture, grows right out of the plate like a
ship coming through a fog. It is a very strange
and beautiful thing, and I solemnly assure you that
not all the fairies and witches and magicians and
enchanters, in all your nursery-books put together,
ever did anything half so wonderful and beautiful.
And now, what do you think? Why, when Ben
hurried off to the tent, with all the soldiers follow-
ing behind him, to develop his pictures, he found
he had forgotten to bring this mysterious fluid with
the hard name, and there he was, little better off
than if he had not taken his pictures, for he
could not show them! He threw his hat on the
bed, he stamped on the ground, he tried to tear his
hair in his vexation, only fortunately it had been
cut too short. But there was no help for it; he
had to come out and explain to the soldiers about
the magic liquid, and he felt very silly and he
looked very foolish, for he had fondly hoped to
strike them dumb with astonishment.
However, if he could n't develop his pictures, he
could at least take them, and keep them shut up
from the light, and carry them home to develop.
And so every day he went about, setting up his
camera and disappearing under the mysterious
black cloth, till he became a familiar object in
the camp, and a group of the idle soldiers would
usually gather about him whenever he appeared
with his instrument.
Meantime, in the tents and at mess, he was intro-
duced to all the officers, who thought it was so droll
to see such a little boy making pictures, that they
took a good deal of notice of him. Indeed, they
each and all sat to him for their pictures, from the
Sergeant up to the Captain, who, leaning upon his
sword, with his right hand thrust into his bosom,
and his mustache brushed out into very fierce
points, looked almost as grand as the late Louis
Napoleon.
Ben was as proud as a peacock at being trusted
to take all these pictures, and explained over and
over again to every sitter that, as soon as he
got home, he would develop them and send to
each one proofs of his own photograph. Upon
the strength of this promise every officer ordered
a dozen or two to be struck off, and insisted upon
paying for them in advance; several of the com-
mon soldiers and the band did likewise; so that
Ben soon became not only a distinguished person-
age in the camp, but collected such a sum of
money that it quite turned his head. Straightway
he began to look upon himself as an experienced
artist and equal to anything. Indeed, he was
called by the good-natured officers "Our Special
Artist," and one of them printed these words upon
a large ornamental badge, which Ben wore tied
around his cap.


AL ARTIST. 739


As a result of all this prominence, poor Ben
became so puffed up with vanity that I very much
doubt if a vainer little boy was ever heard of. You
may easily see this for yourselves by the letters he
wrote to his mamma. Here is one of them
"C C.yP BtISMARCK.
"DEAR MA: I 'm having royal good times. This s a jolly
place. They have the best things to eat you ever saw. I vish you
and Aunt Hannah could just taste the chowder. I have just as many
plates of pudding as I want, and don't have any water in my coffee.
I 'm as fat as a pig. I 've got so I can take photergrafs first-rate.
It's just as easy as nothing now. I 'vetaken most everybody's. I've
got lots of orders, too. I think I shall leave school when I come
home and go into bisness, and then we can have a horse and buggy
and a new parlor carpet. I have made up my mind to join the
cadets this fall the officers all like me most to death. They call me
Oar Special A rtist, and Lieutenant Wilder made me a badge to
wear with that printed on, so you see that I put on as much style as
anybody.
"Oh! I forgot to tell you I came away without my developer,
and so I can't finish a single plate. It was a horrid mistake, and
I felt awful cut up, at first; but I shall fetch home all my neggertives,
adjust go right at it and do it all up at once. You can tell Johnny
Townsend that he need n't expect me to go fishing any more. 1
sha'n't have any time to go fooling round now with him. Please
send me down two or three dozen more plates right away.
"Your affectionate son,
"BEN."
Meantime, Ben was taken about everywhere by
the officers, and introduced to all the visitors at
the camp as "Our Special Artist," to whom, with
a great air, he always made the military salute,
putting his heels close together, sticking out his
forefinger, and touching the visor of his cap with
a motion as stiff as a poker.
But the proudest and happiest day Ben had ever
yet known was when the Governor and his staff
came down to review the troops. Ben was duly
marched up and introduced to his excellency, who
patted him on the head, and called him my little
man," and said he should esteem it a great honor
to sit to him for a picture. The Governor, of
course, was merely joking, and only wanted to pay
Ben a compliment; but the latter had become by
this time so confident of his ability and so proud
of his reputation that he took the Governor at his
word, and accordingly, at dress parade in the
afternoon, when his excellency was standing wnatch-
ing the maneuvers of the troops, surrounded by
his staff in their brilliant uniforms, with plumes
flying and golden epaulets gleaming in the sun-
shine, Ben, nothing abashed, marched boldly forth,
and, setting up his instrument at a short distance,
leveled it full at the distinguished party, and be-
gan adjusting the lens. Pretty soon some one
pointed him out to the Governor, who was very
much amused, and was good-natured enough to
send a member of his staff, with his sword clank-
ing and his black horse prancing, across to Ben, re-
questing him to shake a handkerchief when he was
ready, and they would all stand quietly to be taken.
Ben did as he was asked, and triumphantly took






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


the picture in the face and eyes of the whole corps
and a multitude of spectators gathered to witness
the review.
Afterward, when the Governor was riding from
the field, he suddenly drew up at sight of Ben and
his instrument, and, stooping from his horse, said:
Good-bye, my little artist; I shall expect one
of those pictures when they are done "
Ben, rigid as a lightning-rod, gave the military
salute, and almost broke his forefinger by striking
it so energetically against his visor.
This event was, indeed, the crowning feather in
Ben's cap thus far. His cousin, Lieutenant Jones,
laughed, and said, He has grown six inches taller
already, and pretty soon we shall have to get a
ladder to climb up to him "
That same evening, as it chanced, several of the
officers were gathered in one of the tents, where
each in turn told some strange experiences that
had happened to himself or his friends. Among
others, Lieutenant Wilder related several thrilling
adventures he had met with in Virginia amid the
wild and beautiful scenery of the Shenandoah re-
gion, where he had lived for a time.
"Yes," he said, concluding, and at the same
time patting Ben upon the head, "if I had only
had 'Our Special Artist' there with me, I could
hava shown you some of the scenes where these
things happened, and there's nothing like them
in the country."
Ben was so grateful for this tribute in his honor
that he asked many questions about Virginia, which
led Lieutenant Wilder to go on and tell other
stories of the lovely scenery of that State and the
pleasant people he had met there, to all of which
Ben listened with most attentive ears.
But the secret of this sudden interest in Virginia
was explained at the end of the week, when the
camp broke up. When everything was packed and
sent off, and everybody was ready to march to the
depot, "Our Special Artist" could not be found.
Search was made for him high and low, up in the
woods, down by the sea-shore, but all in vain, till
at length, just as everybody was becoming very
much alarmed, a little boy came up and handed
a note to Lieutenant Jones. He opened it quickly,
and read as follows:
"DEAR COUSIN BILL: I guess your eyes will stick out when
you get this. I've gone to Virginia. I was going to speak to you
at first, but then I thought, you'd make a fuss, and so I thought I
wou'd n't. I'm going to write to Ma; so you need n't fret about that.
I wish you 'd take my trunk back to Dashville I did n't want tobe
bothered with it, traveling. I had a bang-up time at the camp.
I 'm much obliged to you for taking me. I like the cadets first-rate,
and I shall join them in the fall. You can tell Ma that I have gone
to take views. You know there are n't any views around Dashville
worth a cent. Tell her she need n't go and get worried about me;
there wont anything happen to me; I guess I know how to take
care of myself, and I shall come home just as quick as I use up my
plates. Yours truly, BEN BRADY."


Poor Lieutenant Jones turned pale, and stared at
the letter in blank amazement, as if it could not be
true. What could he say to Mrs. Brady, and how
could he ever make her believe that he was not to
blame? He thought for a moment of pursuing
Ben, of writing, of telegraphing; but he soon saw
it would be of no use, for there was no address to
the letter and there was no way of finding out his
whereabouts.
But we must leave the unhappy Lieutenant to
go back to Dashville and break the news of Ben's
sudden and unexpected departure as best he could
to Mrs. Brady, while we follow the footsteps of
"Our Special Artist."
Ben was not in the first class in geography in
the Dashville High School, and his knowledge of
that branch of learning was as uncertain as his
spelling. He had a very vague notion that Vir-
ginia was somewhere down South; but how to get
to it, he did n't know at all. By dint of inquiring,
however, he found out that he must go through
New York, Baltimore, and Washington. In one
of these places he thought he could get some
of the magic liquid with which to develop his
plates.
But he had never been in a big city in his
life; and when he got to New York, the tremen-
dous crowds of people, the rush, the confusion,
the tumult, so impressed him that he dared only
go from one depot to the other, and even then was
quaking in his boots lest he should be lost.
At the ticket-office in New York there was a
man standing close by when Ben went up to
purchase his ticket for Washington. Perhaps to
impress the stranger with his importance and teach
him that he must not always judge people by their
size, Ben, with a little flourish, pulled out the roll
of bank-bills which he had received from his sitters
at Camp Bismarck, and made a great show counting
out his fare. When he took his seat on the train,
he found the same man on the seat behind him.
He turned out to be a pleasant, soft-spoken man,
who by and by began to talk to Ben, and when
he learned where he was going gave him much
good advice, and told him how to go to Vir-
ginia, and what everything would cost, and many
other things. He happened to have a map in
his pocket, and he came over into Ben's seat and
opened his map and took out a pencil, and showed
Ben his road exactly on the map, so that Ben
thought he had learned more geography from the
soft-spoken man, in half an hour, than he had
ever learned in the Dashville school all his life.
And when, presently, the stranger saw the camera
under the seat and heard what it was, and drew
out from Ben a description of his visit to Camp
Bismarck and the pictures he had taken, not for-


[AUGUST,


740






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


getting the Governor's, the soft-spoken man de-
clared that Ben must be a wonderful boy-in fact,







.. .





the most .-. / > .
wonderful boy ,A !i
he had ever ..,


known, and he
ventured to pre-
dict that there
was a chance -
in fact, the great-
est probability-
of his some time
becoming Presi-
dent of the Uni-
ted States. In fine, the
soft-spoken man had
such kind man-
ners, and talked
so agreea- --


4-
I'


2o *'l~


Y..
tti" j.


moment occurred to him to connect his loss with
the soft-spoken man.
But now what was to be done? He felt in his
trousers' pockets in alarm, and found he had still
a little silver. He counted it with much anxiety.
There was only two dollars and a half. Forced
to pay a dollar and a half for his lodging and
breakfast, he reached Alexandria next day with
only fifty cents in his pocket. This proved
to be just enough to pay his fare in the
stage that was to take him to Mont-
ville, a lovely little place among
the mountains which
I he had heard Lieu-


S r. nant Wilder describe.
'I'- i ..:.: ere several passengers in the stage
i' i 1.-. i arted; but one after another they all got out
I.. I..- 1 -irrived at Montville, save one little girl about
i n' age. This little girl was directly opposite
SBen, and there they sat, bobbing up and down as the
- stage jolted along, making believe not to look at each
other, but all the time wanting to speak. The little girl
had a bright, merry face; she was not exactly pretty, but
.:ry good-natured looking; she had laughing blue eyes,
freckled skin, and reddish hair, which was arranged in two
!.:.ig braids, tied up at the ends with bits of blue ribbon.
' he held in her lap a very large orange, which she played
with now and then when she grew tired of tossing her


S. '.- braids and drumming on the window.
All at once the stage gave a tremendous jolt
Sas they passed over one of those queer hum-
:' /- mocks in the road which the country
'. ; --- people call "thank-you-marms," and
away went the orange on the floor. In
a minute, Ben sprang to pick it up and
S the little girl sprang to pick it
.- /\ \p, so they met in the
middle and their heads
bly, that Ben thought he was the nicest I came together with
person he had ever met next to the Gover- a tremendous bump.
nor, and was very sorry to have him go Then they both sat
when he left the train at Baltimore. Nor back in their seats, and
afterward, when Ben got to Washington and found the lit- te girl began to laugh,
his roll of bank-bills had mysteriously disappeared, whereupon / Ben blushed and bit his lip.
when he stood pale and quaking with astonish- Then the little girl laughed harder than before; she
ment and fear at the discovery, it never for a looked out of the window and puckered up her lips,


~. r-







OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


and put her handkerchief up to her mouth, and
tried very hard indeed to stop, but all in vain; she
presently burst out again, and laughed and laughed
till the tears stood in her eyes. By this time Ben
had become very indignant; he did not like to be
laughed at-he considered himself a person of
altogether too much consequence; so he got up
and went across the stage, and turned his back on
the little girl and looked out of the other window.
Pretty soon, however, he felt atouch on his shoulder,
and there was the little girl holding out half of
her orange, which she had peeled for him. She
did not say anything, but she looked so sorry and
so eager to be friends that Ben was mollified, and
so took the orange and returned to his seat.
As they sat there eating their oranges and look-
ing rather bashful, the little girl, taking courage,
suddenly asked:
What's your name ?"
"Mister Ben Brady," said Ben, thinking to im-
press the little girl with his dignity.
My name is Sissy Sanderson," she rejoined;
"my father's the town clerk. Everybody knows
us."
Humph! exclaimed Ben, not very politely,
thinking to himself that he was somebody, and he
did n't know the Sandersons.
What's that thing? asked Sissy, pointing to
Ben's apparatus, tucked down beside his seat.
"It's a tourograph replied Ben, loftily.
"Oh! exclaimed Sissy, none the wiser.
Ben gazed out of the window with a proud air,
as much as to say, Look at.it now while you have
the chance; you don't see a tourograph every
day!"
Do you play on it? asked Sissy, again.
"Nobody flays on it!" exclaimed Ben, indig-
nantly. I take pictures with it. I am an artist! "
You do! exclaimed Sissy, almost gasping
with astonishment, and then she looked from Ben
to the tourograph, and from the tourograph to
Ben, for three whole minutes, so overcome with
awe and admiration that she could not speak.
"Who taught you? at last she asked.
Nobody; I taught myself," replied Ben, short-
ly, seeing the effect he had produced on Sissy, and
now feeling that he had risen once more to his
proper level.
Where are you going? asked Sissy, more and
more interested in her new acquaintance.
"Going to Montville."
Why, that's where I live. I know everybody
in Montville-whose house are you going to? "
"I 'm not goingto anybody's house; going to the
hotel," said Bed, haughtily.
"Why there is n't any hotel," said Sissy.
"Eh?" exclaimed Ben, in alarm.


Did n't you know the hotel was burned a long
time ago? "
Wh- wha-what shall I do then ?"
The pride and haughtiness faded very suddenly
out of Ben's face, and gave place to a look of
blank dismay, as he felt in his trousers' pockets
and found them empty, as he thought of himself
hundreds of miles from home, with no means of
getting back, and now just about entering a strange
town, with no, hotel, and the night coming on.
He gazed ruefully down upon the tourograph,
and then out of the window, and looked very, very
crest-fallen and forlorn.
"Have n't you any relations in Montville?"
inquired Sissy.
No."
"And don't you know anybody ?"
No."
Then what made you come here ?"
"'Cause Lieutenant Wilder said there were
splendid views here."
"What, Charley Wilder?"
"Yes cried Ben, brightening up a bit. Do
you know him? "
Oh, yes, indeed; he was my sister Molly's par-
tick'ler friend when he was here. He used to come
to our house often. How funny you should know
him !"
There was a few minutes' silence, during which
the kind-hearted Sissy was busily thinking, when,
suddenly, she exclaimed:
"Why, I '11 tell you what you can do. You
can come to our house to supper, and bring your
troorer-two-row-gr-, the thing, you know,"
cried Sissy, in a desperate attempt to remember
the name, "and I '11 ask Mother, and she 'V/ find
some place where you can go."
Ben blushed a little, and muttered out his thanks
rather awkwardly. But he was glad enough to ac-
cept the invitation, which took a big load from his
heart, as you may believe, and, heaving a deep
sigh of relief, he cast a look of gratitude at Sissy,
and for the first time began talking and laughing
with her quite easily. In this way, they at length
rolled into the pretty village of Montville, where
they were presently set down at Mr. Sanderson's
door.
Sissy immediately stepped out of the stage and
ran away, crying:
I '11 go and tell Mother you 've come."
Pretty soon she came back with her mother, who
proved to be a plain, stout, middle-aged wom-
an, with a very pleasant look in her face. They
found Ben sitting on the door-step, looking very
dismal. Mrs. Sanderson took him in and welcomed
him heartily; and after asking him some questions
about Lieutenant Wilder, and looking with much


[AUGUST,






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST. 743


curiosity at his tourograph, of which Sissy had
already given her some account in an awed and
mysterious whisper, Mrs. Sanderson called in her son
Bob, a boy of about the same age as Ben, and bade
him show their little guest upstairs, saying kindly :
If you are a friend of Lieutenant Wilder's,
you must stay with us, my dear, while you remain
in Montville."
Then Ben, with another sigh almost as big as
he was himself, but with a light heart, followed
Bob upstairs.
The next day, bright and early, and every
morning for some time afterward, Ben started off in
search of views. Up the hills and down the valleys
he marched, never getting tired, stopping every now
and then to take a picture, and always attended by
Sissy and Bob, who were his constant admirers.
Sometimes they went with Sissy's donkey-wagon,
and sometimes they went with Bob's team, which
was funnier still. Bob's team was nothing more
nor less than an ox-cart. That was rather a queer
thing for Bob to have, but this is the way it hap-
pened: Two or three years before, when Mr.
Sanderson was about to send off two young calves
to the butcher, Bob begged so hard for them, that
his father gave them to him, and he had brought
them up and trained them and broken them in, till
now they were the handsomest pair of oxen in the
whole country-side. Bob had trained them so that
he could sit in the cart and shout Gee and
"Haw!" and they would go whichever way he
wished. He called one "Jack" and the other
"Jill"; and when Sissy laughed at this and said
Jill was a girl, Bob said he did n't care; he liked
the name of Jill, and it would do just as well for
an animal as it would for a girl.
After Ben had thus photographed all the fine
scenes he had heard Lieutenant Wilder describe,
he began to take views of the town, and he soon
became as well known and famous among the towns-
people as he had been in camp. He wore his cap
with the badge wherever he went, and was at once
an object of envy to all the boys and of admiration
to all the girls. Nobody understood very clearly
why Ben did n't finish up his pictures, but they
listened in good faith to his story of the magic
liquid; and as he took good care to tell all about
Camp Bismarck, and how he took the officers and
last of all the Governor himself, they could n't
doubt his word. Beside, there was the instru-
ment itself--there had never been one before in
town, and if it did n't take pictures, what did it do?
Again, Ben's experienced air,-for he had now
taken so many pictures that he went through the
operation with great ease and quickness,- all
these things tended to impress the public with his
knowledge and skill.


Thus he went about the village always attended
by a group of white children, a lot of ragged little
darkies, a few grown-up men who had nothing
better to do, and now and then a stray dog or cat.
He took views of the chief buildings and objects of
interest, the town-house, the pound, the grocery
store, and the blacksmith's shop. The poor smith
stood with a horse's foot in his lap, and his heavy
hammer uplifted in the air, waiting until his back
ached to be taken. But as soon as Ben got ready,
then the horse would switch his tail to brush off
a fly, or the smith would have to mind his bel-
lows, or a pig would run in the way, or something
else happen, which, of course, was not Ben's fault.
Then at home he had to take ever so many pict-
ures of the Sanderson family and all their friends.
There was Mrs. Sanderson in her best black silk,
holding a prayer-book in her hand. There was
Granny Sanderson in her best cap, with her jet-
black front tied on askew. There was Mr. Sander-
son in his Sunday clothes, with his long locks
combed down very straight and smooth, staring
with a stern look at a fly on the wall. There
was Bob, with his hair sticking straight up in the
air, and his eyes looking a little wild. There was
Sissy, with her freckles and braids, smiling help-
lessly, for she protested she never could keep
sober with "that thing" pointed at her. And last,
but by no means least, there was Miss Molly. I
say Miss Molly, for she was a grown-up young
lady and the beauty of the family, and not only
that, but the beauty of the whole town, as every-
body acknowledged. I am sorry to say that people
had noticed Molly's good looks, and silly friends
had told her she was handsome, until she had be-
come so vain of her beauty that she thought of
very little else. Now, therefore, she was constantly
" posing to Ben for her picture. And Ben, as you
may suspect, was only too glad to find his services
in such demand by the belle of Montville. Ac-
cordingly, he took her in all kinds of attitudes, in
which he exerted his utmost skill, and Miss Molly
made frantic attempts to be fascinating. Now, in
her big Gainsborough hat, almost as large round
as the top of a barrel; now with her hair let down
and her eyes rolled up like a Madonna; now wear-
ing a wreath of flowers as The Bride," or veiled
with the mosquito-net as The Spirit of Light ";
now with her head turned to one side as The Co-
quette," with her hands resting upon a parasol that
lay across her lap, and with an affected smile upon
her face. Our young photographer decided that this
last would be a very good picture, only the arms
and the parasol were a little out of focus."
After a time, however, Miss Molly's thoughts
took a tragic turn. She tried attitudes for hours
before the glass, and when she hit upon one that








OUR SPECIAL ARTIST. [AUGUST,


was fine enough she would "strike it," and call
for Ben to come at once to take her. Sometimes
this must have been very tedious if not painful,
as when one day she arrayed herself in a bed-
quilt and stood in the middle of the parlor floor
till nearly exhausted, brandishing the carving-knife
as Lady Macbeth "; and all this time poor Mrs.
Sanderson was waiting for the knife to cut up the
cold meat for dinner, but dared not ask for it, as
Miss Molly insisted if she was disturbed in that
attitude she could never "strike it" again, which,
I believe, was true enough. Another remarkable
attitude of Miss Molly's was when she put three
rows of paper ruffles around her neck, dressed
her hair in puffs, put on Bob's cap with the brim
at the back, donned Granny's long mourning veil,
and looked sorrowfully down at her feet, as Mary
Queen of Scots. But her grandest and most ter-
rible posture was where she rolled up her sleeve
to the shoulder, and then, seizing in her other
hand a toy snake which Bob found among his old
playthings, applied it to her bare arm while she
threw back her head and fixed a ferocious glare


question by tying on a red cotton handkerchief for
a turban, and draping herself in one of the chintz
curtains from the parlor. And if anybody had ob-
jected that this garb was very like old Aunt Dinah's
in the kitchen, it might easily have been answered
that no Aunt Dinah nor any other mortal cook was
ever seen clutching a toy snake and rolling her
eyes in that way.
What worried Ben, however, was that he had no
screen, and that the corner of the melodeon, with
the kerosene lamp on it, would be sure to show
sticking out behind Cleopatra in the picture.
Speaking of Aunt Dinah reminds me of Ben's
attempt to photograph her. After all the family had
been duly taken, they suddenly thought of Aunt
Dinah, and rushed into the kitchen to ask her.
She beamed with delight at the suggestion, but
said, in a sort of shamefaced way:
Laws, honey, yer don't water tuk an ole body
like me."
"Yes, yes, we do; come, Aunt Dinah! come
right along shouted all the children in chorus.
He, he chuckled the delighted Aunt Dinah,


"IT 'S GWINE TO GO OFF!"
upon the ceiling. This, I hardly need to tell you, beginning to divest herself of her kitchen apron,
was Cleopatra and the Asp." The whole family ef y' aint gwine fer to take no 'scuse, s'pose I '11
assembled and stood by in awe-struck and breath- jes' hab to be tuk. But go'long, honey, go 'long!
less suspense while Ben, with trembling haste, took I 's coming I 's coming' sho'; only jes' stopping' to
the picture. No one was quite clear how Cleo- find sumfin to frow ober dis yer noddle."
patra ought to be dressed; but Molly settled the Sure enough, out came Aunt Dinah presently in


OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


[AUGUST,







OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


her best plaid apron and kerchief, a yellow turban
on, and her gold ear-rings gleaming in the sun.
Ben sat her on a bench in the garden among the

7 r1 -_


Run, chil'en Massy sakes, run it's gwine to
go off! Seed one o' dem yer things bust afore
now! Done knock eberyt'ing all to nuffin !


/ j* ---
Ici "


Ii;;


PHOTOGRAPHING THE TWINS. [SEE NEXT PAGE.]


sunflowers, and she made a first-rate picture -much
better than Ben had any idea of, and far finer, after
all, than Miss Molly in all her grand attitudes.
But the moment Aunt Dinah was seated she
began to look grave; she grew, in fact, more and
more solemn as Ben proceeded to "fix things,"
till at length when all was ready she had stiffened
into a really formidable grimness.
Presently Ben had everything arranged to his
satisfaction, and coming to the front of the camera
he said, in a warning tone, and with a grand air
that never failed to strike terror to the heart of the
ignorant sitter: All ready now, take care!" and
immediately pulled off the little brass cap.
Aunt Dinah had been looking in another direc-
tion, but at these words turned quickly toward the
instrument, and whether startled by Ben's action
or tone, or both combined, it would be impossible
to say; but she suddenly started from her seat and
fled toward the house, looking back over her shoul-
der with a terrified face, as she cried:


The children all laughed and shouted at poor
Aunt Dinah's fright, but nothing could induce her
to go back and have her picture taken.
"Dis ole nigger seed too many dem yer shooting'
things in de war," she said, solemnly. "Yo' kin
go on ef ye wanter, jes' go right on, but I's tell
yer, honey, tell yer sho', dat ar's gwine ter go off
one o' dese yer fine days, an' den whar 'll ye be?
Whar'll ye be den?" she repeated, shaking her
head, warningly. "Wont be nuff o' yer lef' to
wipe up de flo'."
Beside the Sandersons, Ben was called upon in
due time to take some of the neighbors. His
greatest trial, however, was with the Mallory
twins. Mrs. Mallory was very fond and proud of
the twins--so extravagantly fond of them that she
often said they were good enough to eat. They
were as like each other as two peas; indeed, Ben
thought they were a good deal more alike than
any two peas he had ever seen. They were just
one year and two months old. Why Mrs. I I .l.,..


.883.1







OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


was so proud of the twins, except for the fact that
there were two of them, nobody was ever able to
find out; but she was, and that was enough for
Mrs. Mallory, and indeed for Mr. Mallory, too-
they were both very proud of the twins, and the
taking of their pictures was a great event in the
Mallory family.
The appointed day arrived. Ben was told to come
with his instrument at eleven o'clock precisely, for
that was the time the twins awoke from their morn-
ing naps. He went accordingly. He was shown into
the parlor, where the whole family was gathered
awaiting him. Ben by this time felt quite experi-
enced; he had taken almost everything else but a
baby, and, although it was a bold thing to begin
with twins, Ben felt pretty sure of himself. Pres-
ently the twins were brought in, and straightway
there was a chorus of admiring relatives-"Dar-
lings," "angels," "cherubs," "pets," "lambs,"
" little dears," etc. Ben did n't join in the chorus;
he did n't exactly know what to do, and so only
stood and twirled his thumbs, and looked foolish.
He knew very little about babies, and still less
about twins; but," as he told Sissy privately, "he
could n't see anything to make a fuss over; he
should a great deal rather have a couple of nice
rabbits." They were chubby babies; and it must
be confessed that they were not handsome. They
were dressed in long white dresses, tied up at the
shoulders with pink ribbons. They were girls, and
their names, which their mother had made it a
point to get as nearly alike as possible, were Eme-
line Anna and Eveline Hannah.
And now there was a great dispute as to how
they should be taken. Some thought in the cradle,
some thought in the baby-wagon, some thought
on their mother's lap, some thought on their
father's lap, while their Aunt Jane said they looked
too cunning for anything" in the clothes-basket.
But soon Mrs. Mallory settled the question by
emphatically taking them one on each knee. Now
Ben went to work; he pointed his instrument, ad-
justed his lens, looked under the black cloth, and
was just upon the point of saying the word, when
suddenly Emeline Anna set up a cry. Three aunts
at once rushed to the rescue, which made her cry
louder than before. Mrs. Mallory then sent the
aunts away, and by some stratagem of her own
secured silence. In a few minutes they were all
ready to start again, when, unhappily, Eveline
Hannah espied the ribbon on a little blue-and-
white sock, sticking out from under her dress, and
directly was seized with a wild desire to clutch it.
This endeavor brought the three aunts and the
father promptly to the scene. All at once, it oc-
curred to their Aunt Jane that it would be so
sweet" to have them "looking up." Thereupon


she went and got the dust-pan, and, standing on a
chair behind Ben and the camera, she pounded it
with a clothes-pin. This struck Papa Mallory as
such a very clever thing to do, that he went and
got the poker and tongs, and stood on another
chair and banged them together. This produced


BN'S PHOTOGRAPH
BEN'S PHOTOGRAPH


I ,, ,. ,, 1



*l:li


I ,
SL. II.I






OF MOLLY AS "LADY MACBETH."


the desired effect. The four eyes were strained up-
ward in a gaze of dumb astonishment.
"Now, quick, quick! cried everybody.
Ben, in a flutter, pulled off the cap. The whole
family stood rigid with suspense for several seconds.
Ben, at length, replaced the cap, crying triumph-
antly, "Done!" Alas! in another moment he
found that, in the confusion and excitement of
getting the twins fixed, he had forgotten to put in
the plate, and of course there was no picture.
Up went Papa Mallory and up went Aunt Jane
on the chairs again, bang went the poker and
tongs, and clang went the clothes-pin and the
dust-pan. This time, however, the plan did not
work. Eveline Hannah suddenly took it into her
"precious little head" to be scared at the noise,
and at once set up a cry which, when Emeline
Anna presently joined in, became a loud and pro-
longed duet. It was plain that something else
must be tried. It was, therefore, decided to let Papa
Mallory hold the twins, while Mamma Mallory
amused them. This promised at first to succeed.


[AUGusT,






OUR SPECIAL ARTIST.


Mamma Mallory knelt down before the darlings,
and, clapping her hands, cried softly:
"Goo-goo! Googly-goo!"
Now, children, I wish I could explain those
words to you, but I can not. I have not the least
idea what they mean. But--will you believe it?-
the twins did; they knew what it meant at once,
and burst into the sweetest smile of which they
were capable. Everybody again cried:
"Quick, quick; take 'em now! Take 'em
now "
But Ben, squinting under his black cloth, found
he could see nothing at all but Mrs. Mallory's back
hair. Oh, dear she cried, when Ben told her
of this. If I go away, they'll be sure to cry! "
But it seemed now as if the twins had exhausted
their ingenuity for the time, and had stopped to
think up something else to do. They puckered
their mouths, and looked pensively at the floor.
"'Now," thought Ben, "I '11 catch 'em on the sly "
And so he did. They were quiet; they sat still;
and neither Ben nor anybody else in the room
noticed that Papa Mallory had been trotting each
knee gently all the time. After this utter failure,
Ben gave up the twins in despair.
But although the Mallorys and many of the
other neighbors were very willing to employ Ben,
and even in some cases to order a dozen pictures,
it never seemed to occur to anybody to pay in
advance, and Ben had not the courage to demand
it. So, instead of the great fortune he expected to
make, he was not only without a penny, but depend-
ing on the kind-hearted Sandersons for his board.
At last, one morning, he made the startling dis-
covery that he had used up all his plates. Now,
instead of a millionaire and a celebrated artist as he
had fancied himself when on the way to Virginia,
all at once it occurred to him that he was only
a boy a very long way from home, and with no
means of getting back there. He began, too, to
want to see his mother; he even felt like crying
a little, and the world looked very, very dark and
dismal. Just at this moment Sissy came up, and,
seeing Ben look so doleful, asked him what was
the matter. He told her everything. Thereupon
the sensible Sissy said:
Well, you ought to go right away and sit down
and write your mother a good long letter, and tell
her all about it! "
And so Ben did; and his poor mother, who had
been nearly distracted with anxiety, sent back an
answer at once by telegraph, saying that his cousin
Lieutenant Jones would come on to Montville im-
mediately to bring him back.
Very much ashamed was Ben to meet his cousin,
you may be sure, after all the trouble he had
caused; and very silly and guilty he felt, like little


boys who play truant from school. Still more
ashamed was he to confess that he had been de-
pending all this time on the hospitality of the
Sandersons.
However, good, kind Mrs. Sanderson would n't
hear of taking a cent from Lieutenant Jones; she
said they would be all well repaid when Ben sent
them on their pictures which he had taken. In-
deed, I think Miss Molly was rather eager to have
him go- she was so anxious to see her pictures.
They arrived at home in two days; and during
the journey, Lieutenant Jones, as the mother's
spokesman, delivered a severe lecture to our artist.
So before the boy saw her again he had come to
understand the fright and anxiety he had caused
her. And when they met, Ben burst into tears,
which told his mother how sorry and ashamed he
was better than a thousand words could have done.
Two days after he got up before sunrise and went
to work developing his plates. Eager, curious,
trembling with anticipation, he took them one by


I,,


, I ll.- -

BEN IS NOT SATISFIED WITH HIS PLATES.

one into the dark closet and applied the magic
liquid. He watched, he waited, he peered through
the gloom by the light of his ruby lamp, he scanned
each little line and point. What was the matter?
Why did n't they come ? He took them out to the
daylight. He soaked them again and again in the
liquid. What did it mean, all these misty, cloudy,
confused-looking objects? What was this meant
for? And this ? Where were the tents ? the camp
views? the officers? Where, oh, where was the







OUR SPECIAL ARTIST. [AUGUST,


Governor? Where were the beautiful views in
Virginia? Where were the Sandersons? Where
Miss Molly's "The Coquette," the Cleopatra,"
the "Spirit of Light," Lady Macbeth," and the
"Queen of Scots" ?
A more dreadful set of pictures was never seen,
I am sure- a more dismal failure never heard
of! What did it mean? Why, it only meant that
Ben did n't know how to take pictures; it meant
that he did n't make any distinction between work-


to eat when he went to tell his mother of his dis-
appointment. He walked up and down his cham-
ber floor a long time before he could gather
courage to do it. His mother did not seem at all
surprised; but when she went on gravely and told
Ben that now she must pay back to the officers the
money they had advanced, and pay the Sandersons
for his board, and that, in short, with the expense of
sending after him to Virginia and everything else,
his career as an artist would cost her over a hun-


MOLLY AS A COQUETTE-"OUR YOUNG PHOTOGRAPHER DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE A GOOD
PICTURE, ONLY THE ARMS AND THE PARASOL WERE A LITTLE OUT OF FOCUS."


ing out-doors, where the light is fierce and strong
and the picture takes in a second, and in-doors,
where the light is weak and the picture does not take
in less than a whole minute. It means that, not
having his magic liquid with him, he could not see
his mistakes, and so could not learn experience
from them. Poor Ben! He was stunned. He was
staggered. He leaned up against the wall. Long
had he been waiting for the moment of triumph,
when he should bring forth his views to the light
to convince his mother, and show all Dashville
what a genius he was, to repay all the favors of
the cadets, to return the compliment of the Gov-
ernor, to requite the long-continued hospitality of
the Sandersons, and last-far worse than anything
else to earn the money he had taken in advance
front the officers !
It was a great big piece of humble-pie Ben had


dred dollars, poor Ben was very much dismayed,
and was quite thoughtful and downcast all the
rest of the day.
The next morning, he got up early and went
and tucked his tourograph away in the darkest
corner of the garret, and never mentioned it again.
That afternoon, as he was standing at the window,
he suddenly saw Johnny Townsend come out of
his house across the way with his fishing-rod and
basket and go down the street. Ben stood a mo-
ment struggling with his pride; then he ran out
and called:
"Johnny! -John-nee!"
"Wha-a-t ?"
Got bait enough for two ? "
Ye-es."
"Then hold on; I '11 go with you-if Ma'11
let me "


OUR SPECIAL, ARTIST.


[AUGUST,


_ic~C~7~i-


.1


L








MEMORIES OF THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.





MEMORIES OF THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.


I..:


II f i --I*-----~





'i'ilI' i II'1 ~ i~m
I. *i i,'


I ~


-=







750


I ONCE knew a hunter, living near a mining
town in Montana, who made a business of selling
wild game that he brought in from the surround-
ing mountains. In his excursions, he would often
happen upon the young of various wild animals,


-._-


N.~ c


^ i
\ C a.


7 -

A FOUR-LEGGED ACROBAT.
and bring them home to his cabin as pets for his
children. In fact, he had made considerable
money by rearing some of these young animals
and afterward sending them to the Eastern States
to be sold to menageries. He captured young
grizzlies, mountain lions, panthers, and lynxes,


and many a baby buffalo has he brought home to
his children. These, when they grew large, were
either sold or turned in with the cattle, of which
he owned a large herd.
One day I was riding by his cabin, and noticed
that he had built around it an in-
closure of common rough planks,
put close together, and sawed off
at an even height, making a board
fence such as you have often seen
in towns or villages. While look-
ing at this fence, my attention
was attracted by a curious little
animal running along the top of
_- the fence. At a little distance it
looked like a kid or lamb, yet no
one ever saw a lamb run along
the top of a board fence, skipping
and dancing as freely as when on
the ground. It would suddenly
* i i ~ stop and stand on its hind legs,
and shake its head as if at some
S enemy on the other side of the
S' inclosure or fence.
S' My curiosity being aroused, I
ii drove up to see what this curious
S creature was. It did not appear
S to be afraid of me, and came close
up to where I stood, now and then
shaking its head ominously, how-
S. ever, as if to say, "I should like
to try a fight with you, too." At
that moment I heard a sudden
S bark, and a small Newfoundland
--- dog dashed around the fence.
-.- Away went the strange creature,
S- leaping down the fence and dash-
ing across the yard, the dog after
: it, but both in play, as I could
see. Their jumps and gambols
would have astonished you. But
always, when hard pressed, the
queer animal would wheel, and
with one spring land on the very
top of the board fence again.
Its powers of leaping and balancing were truly
marvelous.
I shouted to the hunter, whom I now discovered
unsaddling his horse at the door of his stable
near by, saying, What do you call this lively
thing? "


THE YOUNG MOUNTAIN SHEEP.




THE YOUNG MOUNTAIN SHEEP.

BY W. M. CARY.


[AUGUST,






THE YOUNG MOUNTAIN SHEEP.


"That 's a kind of a Chinese puzzle on legs,"
said he, in reply. Did you ever see any circus
clown beat him at jumping? "
I replied by asking, Well, what do you call
the creature when cooked ? "
This question he did not evade, but answered,
promptly: We call it mutton or lamb. That, sir,
is a young mountain sheep. These animals re-
semble our sheep in many ways, but not in their
straight, coarse, yellowish-brown hair. But be-
neath this rough coat they have a fine, short wool
covering their bodies. They used to be called
goats; but the wise men of the country have
decided that they are really sheef."
I had seen these strange sheep at a distance, in
little bands, but never any so young as the one
now playing about my friend's fence.
The older sheep have a dark brown streak down
the back of the hind legs, and also the same kind
of a mark down the front of the fore leg. Their


eyes are very large, resembling those of a deer or
antelope.
They feed on the bunch grass, lichens, and moss
that grow on the rocks, on sage, and on the bark of
trees. They are very difficult to approach in their wild
state, yet, when captured young, are easily tamed.
Hunters have very laborious sport when hunting
these animals, as they seek the most elevated peaks
of the mountains, and very seldom descend to the
valleys. It is the object of the hunter to get above
his game, if possible, when in pursuit of the mount-
ain sheep, for they are so quick of eye, ear, and foot
that, if he meets them on the same level with him-
self, he stands but little chance of bagging his game.
So he strives to get above them. Then a stone
thrown down among them will suffice to frighten
them, and they will immediately begin ascending
the mountain; and as they can not scent the hunter,
who lies in wait above them, they will then fall an
easy prey to quick and true shots from his rifle.


r Y o















e k.


Ii.i uILL *-1L.'L- h..~li
.1 V.- Luc
lb II ,





'Ir






THE STORY OF THE CASTLE.


THE STORY OF THE CASTLE.

BY CELIA THAXTER.


I ,i --
.......................... ..........-- ".. ...-"I;'L'..

'pi
. -- :..__--.- ., __ .': -, .,a
.. ,!'. ',,, r ";^ ,' '^ .. ,,,, ,,"",,
--. .. ,' i ,'l: "i ,, ;1=,, ',1,, i

' .-- "i ''^ '' ', ',,


CLEAR shone the cordial sun of June -
Summer was come again;
In the still, dreamy afternoon,
Upon the grassy plain,

The children, with the patient sheep
About the shepherd old,
Watched the long, lazy shadows creep
Across the sunshine's gold.

Up to the high crag, castle-crowlied,
Beyond the rushing Rhine,
With curious eyes they looked where frowned
The walls of Falkenstein.

And Hans and Fritz and Max the bold,
And little Rosel sweet,
Coaxed and caressed the shepherd old,
And gathered round his feet.


" Tell us a story, Gottfried good,
Of the tall towers that shine,
And how the small sprites of the wood
Crept up to Falkenstein !

" Tell us that story, Gottfried, please,
About the castle grand "
And on the soft grass, at their ease,
They curled on either hand.

The sun made yellow all the steep,
No sound the silence broke,
The good dog watched the drowsy sheep,
And thus the shepherd spoke:

" Rough was the knight of Falkenstein -
Harsh and morose was he;
Yet was his daughter half divine,
The lovely Odilie!


[AUGUST,







THE STORY OF THE CASTLE.


" Like some old bare and gnarled tree,
He lived upon his height;
But she, the lovely Odilie,
Was like a blossom bright,

" And lovers flew as thick as bees
Her rosy smiles to gain.
But one alone the maid could please--
The brave Kuno von Sayn.

" He asked her of her father stern.
The cruel lord replied:
'If you my daughter's hand would earn,
And win her for your bride,

" Level a smooth road from my door
Down to the open plain
Ere morning breaks, or nevermore
Look in her face again!'

"A path down that tremendous crag!
Alas! for brave von Sayn,
Who climbed the rocks like some bold stag
Her rosy smiles to gain!

" No mortal hands a way might make
Down such a mountain-side;
But Kuno, with heart fit to break,
Swift to his miners hied:

" Now all my fortune yours shall be,
If up the dizzy height
A road for my good steed and me
You '11 make ere morning light.'

" They gazed at him with pitying eyes,
And whispered, while they smiled,
'Our master once was grave and wise,
But love has made him wild! '

" Then dull despair caught at his heart,
And to the woods he sped.
Frantic with grief, he struck apart
The close boughs overhead,

"And pushed through clustering underbrush,
With reckless stride, his way,
Intent to the world's end to rush,
Hating the light of day.

" Careless, yet not so blind was he
But that his quick eye caught
A scarlet gleam not hard to see.
He paused as swift as thought.
VOL. X.-48.


" Was it some bird or butterfly
That glimmered bright before ?
Patient he waited, with a sigh,
To see the creature soar.

" When, lo! a tiny voice piped shrill:
Take heart, thou brave, true knight,
Who would'st no helpless creature kill!
Thou shalt have thy delight.'

" And there upon the vivid moss
A little kobold gray,
With yellow plumes the wind did toss,
And scarlet cloak so gay,

" Stood, quaint and small, with hand on hip
And grand of mien. Said he:
'Ere down the west the moon shall dip,
Thy road shall finished be.'

" Did Kuno dream? Where did he go?
In vain he sought to find
That fairy man above, below,
Who spake with words so kind.

" Then in his heart hope rose elate.
He turned and left the wood,
And entered his own castle gate
And slept in peaceful mood.

" But round the walls of Falkenstein,
Throughout that mystic night,
Did thunder roll and lightning shine,
And fill the folk with fright.

" To heaven, the saints, and Mary mild
The rough old Ritter prayed;
But still went on the tumult wild,
And all his soul dismayed.

" With raps and taps and clinks and thumps
Was cracked the ancient stone;
Ten thousand hatchets split the stumps,
Ten thousand hammers shone:

" For twenty thousand gnomes had sped
The barriers to destroy.
And when at last the morning red
Kissed all the world to joy,

" And Kuno on his coal-black steed
Came riding gallantly,
There was the finished road, indeed-
A miracle to see;






RECOLLECTIONS OF A DRUMMER-BOY.


" Up, up, and up he galloped gay,
Till, at the portal grim,
He saw the Ritter old and gray
Come out to welcome him;

" And by her white and slender hand
He led his daughter fair.


' Take her,' he cried, 'you who command
The powers of earth and air!'

" And Kuno looked in her sweet eyes,
And rapturously obeyed;
And so he won his matchless prize,
The snow-and-rose-bloom maid."


RECOLLECTIONS OF A DRUMMER-BOY.*
NEW SERIES.

BY HARRY M. KIEFFER.

III. "HOW WE WENT DOWN TO JERICHO AND FELL AMONG THIEVES."


,' r.. ..,

.I i i* ..
_. ., ,, ,,,
t / j'i'i 4. '1', I* -
h., on-
,, nonading,
\.-i '- we had
heard but
little of the
S-- enemy when
0 on Monday,
-: May 23d,
--'~- 1-- 864, after a
good sleep, we started at six in the morning and
marched rapidly all day in a southerly direction,
"straight for Richmond," according to our some-
what bewildered conception of the geography of
those parts. Indeed, we had seen and heard but
very little of the enemy for several days. Where
he was we did not know. We only hoped he had
at last taken to his heels and run away--

"Away down South, in Dixie's land,
Away, away,"


i..a! o i umption of the innumerable
I 1).. _cooks, camp followers,








...., ,l. ,,.. .. .... _. .mbolden, ed by the quietude
S.. :' had ventured to join




tr. *r, and were marching along-,
. j__!: : I',' i --. -
-i? i .
^^ :;^i:--- *^-
i^ _-; :_- --"

.Ii..i t! l .!i r-. i i.,.i-.1mption of the innumerable
:'cro a ,ii_ .. -alip of cooks, camp followers;
preached thi ri. !'r,. emboldened by the quietude
nition trains "!. :i, had ventured to join each
iort dis e from Jeric; so tt'!', and were marching along
ifo a.. il i Lull, .. hn, on the evening of Mtay 23d,
we neared North Anna River, which we were to
cross at a place called Jericho Ford. As we ap-
proached the river, we found the supply and ammu-
nition trains "parked" to the rear of a woods a
short distance from Jericho; so that, as we halted
for awhile in the edge of the forest nearest to the
stream, everything wore so quiet and unsuspicious
a look that we never dreamed of the enemy's be-
ing near at hand. Under the impression that we
would probably haltth there or th night, I gathered
up a number of the boys' canteens and started in
search of water, taking my course toward an open
meadow which lay to the right and near the river's
edge. There was a corn-field off to the left, across
which I could see the troops marching in the direc-
tion of the bridge. As I stooped down to fill my
canteens at the spring, another man came up, bent
upon the same errand as myself. From where I
stood I could see the bridge full of troops and


and that we should never again see anything of the rabble of camp followers carelessly crossing.
him but his back. Alas! for the presumption; But hardly had'I more than half-filled my first
Copyright, 1881, by Harry M. Kieffer. All rights reserved.


754


[AUGUST,






RECOLLECTIONS OF A DRUMMER- BOV.


canteen, when the enemy, lying concealed in the
woods, across the river, opened fire. Boom! Bang!
Whir-r-r Cthuck!
Heigho said I to my companion, the ball
is going to open "
Yes," answered he, with a drawl and a super-
cilious look, as if few beside himself had ever heard
a shell crack before-"yes; but when you've
heard as many shells bursting about your head as
I have "
Whir-r-r! Ch/uick! I could hear the sharp tkud
of the pieces of shell as they tore up the meadow
sod to the right and left of us, whereupon my brave
and boastful friend, leaving his sentence to be
completed and his canteens to be filled some other
day, cut for the rear at full speed, ducking his
head as he went. Finding an old gate-way near
by, with high stone posts on either side, I took
refuge there, and, feeling tolerably safe behind my
tall defense, turned about and looked toward the
river.
And laughable indeed was the scene which
greeted my eyes. Everything was in confusion,
and all was helter-skelter, skurry, and skedaddle.


ing or being tumbled off the bridge, while others
were swept irresistibly over to the other side,
and there began to plunge forthwith into the dirty
ooze of the stream, with the intention of getting
beyond the enemy's range as quickly as possible,
while all the time the shells flew shrieking and
screaming through the air in pursuit. Between
me and the river was a last year's corn-field, over
which the rabble came pell-mell, fear furnishing
wings for the flight, and happy indeed was he who
had no mule to take care of! One poor fellow,
hatless and out of breath, who had had his mule
heavily laden with camp equipage, was making
for the rear at a full trot, minus saddle, bag, and
baggage, and having nothing left but himself,
the mule, and the halter. Another, immediately in
my front, had come on well enough until he arrived
in the middle of the open field, where the shells
were falling with unpleasant frequency, when his
mule took it into his head to retreat no further
-not an inch. There he stood like a rock, the
poor driver pulling at his halter and frantically
kicking the beast in the ribs, but all to no avail;
while around him and past him swept the crowd


*-A'
_f *~


;ii


"ANDY HAD CONCLUDED THE BARGAIN, AND HAD BOUGHT THE SORREL FOR TEN DOLLARS." (SEE NEXT PAGE.]

There was the bridge in full view, crowded with a of his fellow-cooks and coffee-coolers in full flight

troops trying to force their way over to the other As the firing began to slacken a little, I started
--_~ -J





I--E

"EANDY HAD CONCLUDED THE BARGAIN, AND HAD BOUGHT THE SORREL FOR TEN DOLLARS." [SEE NEXT PALE.]

There was the bridge in full view, crowded with a of his fellow-cooks and coffee-coolers in full flight
struggling mass of men, horses, and mules; the for the rear.
troops trying to force their way over to the other As the firing began to slacken a little, I started
side, and the yelling crowd of camp followers off for the regiment, which had meanwhile changed
equallybent on forcing their way back; some jump- position. In searching for it I passed the forage


755


r


i,
1


. ,:






RECOLLECTIONS OF A DRUMMER-BOY.


and ammunition trains, which were parked to the
rear of the woods and within easy range of the
enemy's guns.
Unless he has actually seen them, no one can
form any adequate idea of the vast numbers of
white-covered wagons which followed our armies,
carrying food, forage, and ammunition; nor can
any one, who has not actually witnessed a panic
among the drivers of these wagons, form any con-
ception of the terror into which they were some-
times thrown. The drivers of the ammunition
wagons were especially anxious to keep well out
of range of shells; and no wonder, for if a shot
were to fall among a lot of wagons laden with
percussion shell, the result may perhaps be im-
agined. It was not strange, therefore, that the
driver of an ammunition wagon, with six mules in
front of him and several tonsof death and destruction
behind him, felt somewhat nervous when he heard
the whir of the shells over the tops of the pines.
In looking for my regiment, I passed one of these
trains. The commissary was dealing out forage
to his men, who were standing around him in a
circle, each holding open a bag for his oats, which
the commissary was alternately dealing out to
them with a bucket -a bucketful to this man, then
to the next, and so on around the circle. It was
clear, however, that he was more concerned about
the shells than interested in the oats, for he ducked
his head almost every time he poured a bucketful
into a bag.
While I was looking at them, Page, a Michigan
boy, orderly to our brigadier-general, came up on
his horse in search of our division train, for he
wanted oats for his horses. Stopping a moment
to contemplate the scene I was admiring, he said
to me in a low tone:
"You just keep an eye on my horse, will you'?
and I '11 show you how I get my oats."
It was well known that Page could get oats when
nobody else could. Though the wagon trains were
miles and miles in the rear, and had not been seen
for a week, Page was determined his horses should
not go to bed supperless. It was whispered about
that, if necessary, he would sit up half the night
after a hard day's march, and wait till everybody
was asleep, and then quietly slip out from under
the very heads of the orderlies of other commands
the oat-bags which, to make sure of them, they
used for pillows. Oats for the general's horse
Page would have by hook or by crook.
You see that commissary yonder," said Page,
as he dismounted and threw a bag over his arm.
"He's a coward, he is-more interested in the
shells than anything else. Don't know whether
he 's dealing out oats to the right man or not.
Just keep an eye on my horse, will you ?"


Now, Page had not the least right to draw
forage there, for that was not our division train.
But as he did not know where our division train
was, and as all the oats belonged to Uncle Sam any
way, where was the harm, he reasoned, in getting
your forage wherever you could ?
Pushing his way into the circle of teamsters,
who were too much engaged in watching for shells
to notice the presence of a stranger, Page opened
his bag while Mr. Commissary, ducking his head
at every crack of the cannon, poured in four
buckets of oats, whereupon Page shouldered his
prize, and returning, mounted his horse, with a
laugh, and a wink at me.
In the wild mizle of that May evening there at
Jericho,-where we fell among thieves,-there
was no little confusion as to the rights of property.
Some horses had lost their owners, and some owners
had lost their horses. So that, by the time things
grew quiet again, some of the boys had picked up
horses or bought them for a mere song. When I
came up with the regiment, I found that Andy had
just concluded a bargain of this sort. He had
bought a sorrel horse. The animal was a great,
ungainly beast, built after the Gothic style of archi-
tecture, and would have made an admirable sign
for a feed-store up North, as a substitute for
"Oats wanted. Inquire within." However, when
I arrived, Andy had concluded the bargain, and
had bought the sorrel for ten dollars.
"Why, Andy!" exclaimed I, "what in the
world do you want with a horse? Going to join
the cavalry ?"
Well," said Andy, smiling rather sheepishly,
I took him on a speculation. I 'm going to
feed him up a little-- "
Glad to hear it! said I. I 'm sure he needs
it sadly."
Yes: I mean to feed him up, and then sell him
to somebody, and double my money on him, you
see. You may ride him on the march and carry
our traps. I guess the colonel will give you per-
mission. And you know that'll be a capital thing
for you; for you 're so sick and weak that you 're
often left behind."
"Thank you, old boy," said I, with a friendly
shrug. "But, between joining the general caval-
cade of coffee-coolers on this old barebones of
yours and marching afoot, I believe I'd prefer the
infantry."
However, we tied a rope around the neck of
"Bonaparte," as we significantly called him, fast-
ened him to a stake, rubbed him down, begged
some oats from Page, and, pulling some handfuls
of young grass for him, left him for the night.
Early the next morning, Andy rolled out from
under the blankets and went to look after Bona-


756


[AUGUST,







THE CRITICS.


parte. I was building a fire when he came back.
It seemed to me that he looked a little solemn and
downcast.
How 's Bony this morning, Andy?" I inquired.
Andy whistled a bit, stuck his hands into his
pockets, mounted a log, took off his cap, and said:
Comrades and fellow-citizens: Lend me your


ears, and be silent that you may hear. This is
my first and last speculation in horses. Bony is
gone /"
It was indeed true. We had fallen among
thieves, and they had even baffled Andy's plan for
future money-making. For none of us ever laid
eyes upon Bony again.


-5-


(To bc continued.)


I
r
s
~-- ~12 ~c.

-:n


\


I [
'..^

,..._ '^ .. .-- _-







SUNRISE.


SUNRISE--A RUSSIAN FOLK-STORY.

RETOLD IN ENGLISH BY ELISABETH ABERCROMBIE.


ONCE upon a time there lived a man and his
wife who owned a small but comfortable homestead
-the house in which they lived, a couple of stalls
for the cows, together with a cellar and a roomy
shed in which to keep their various stores. They
were careful to keep their horses, sheep, and cattle
provided with good, wholesome food; while a single
week was never allowed to pass in which they did
not employ themselves either in enriching the soil,
plowing or sowing, reaping or mowing, or gath-
ering in the crops, each according to the proper
season. Indeed, it was only in comparison to the
greater possessions of their neighbors that their
property could be called a small one.
Toward the west, the country was all free and
open, and many little homesteads very like to
theirs were dotted over the land here and there;
but to the east there was nothing to be seen but a
thick forest.
There were no paths leading into this great
forest. No one ever thought of entering it, even
to gather up wood for burning. The people col-
lected the wood for their fires from the thick
growth of bushes and brambles which they found
along the banks of the lake or the brooks; and so
it happened that the forest trees had grown quite
matted together and had become very old, but just
how large the forest was, or just what was its con-
dition inside, nobody knew.
One bright day, the man and his wife were
made very happy, for a child was born to them--
a little daughter.
Now," they both said, "we must be more sav-
ing and more industrious than ever, for now we
know for whom we areoworking, and who it is, in
fact, that will have need of our working."
As the child grew, she had very pleasant and
winsome ways. You had only to look at her to
feel your heart grow light. It did not matter
to whom she stretched out her tiny hand-who-
ever it might be, he was always ready to do
whatever she wished; it did not matter whom she
ran to meet, for that person would always gladly
have walked far out of his way to see her bright,
smiling face. So it was from her earliest baby
days, and so it went on as she grew larger and
larger. During the day, each one of the man-
servants or maids who went to and fro about the
house sought to get a peep at the child. Some-
how it seemed to them that the brightness of the


day had not yet risen until this had been done.
She was so entirely the darling of the household
that her baptismal name was almost forgotten,
while with one consent she was called, by all who
knew her, "Little Sunrise."
When Sunrise had grown to be quite a large
girl, her parents said to each other:
Now, it is time that she should be learning
how to do some work, for what is the use of prop-
erty or prosperity if you have n't industry, and the
habit of taking care of property, and the ability to
add something to it from time to time? "
And a light task was accordingly given to the
child. From the first, however, she showed her-
self a very capable and willing little girl about
everything that was given her to do. She never
seemed in the least over-tired by her work. On
the contrary, she always finished everything a
great deal sooner even than was expected of her,
while it never once occurred that a mistake could
be detected on account of the swiftness with which
her nimble fingers completed their task.
When Sunrise had grown older and her strength
had increased so that it was no longer necessary
for her to work under her mother's eye, but she
could be allowed to join in the work going on
in the garden, meadows, and fields, her presence
brought much happiness to the other laborers.
Mingled with this happiness, however, were cer-
tain other features that were far from pleasing to
Sunrise's father and mother, for, go where she
would, somebody was sure to step up to the little
girl and say:
Just you look at us, Sunrise, dear. You're
our little mistress, you know, and we'll soon get
your share done for you."
Then, while Sunrise was making a struggle to
push aside the offered help, behold! somebody
else would step in, and, before she knew it, the
greater part of her work would be done.
Her parents had no need of being discontented
with the labor that was completed after this
fashion; for, wherever their child appeared, all
lassitude or weariness seemed to vanish from
among the servants, and as the evening of each
day came around, instead of finding evidence of
neglect, they found rather that double and three
times the work had always been done, if Sunrise
had been out in the fields. Still, as far as their
little girl was concerned, so much devotion on the


758


[AUGUST,







SUNRISE.


part of their hirelings was not according to their
wish.
She will learn to be a perfect little do-nothing,"
they said, "and haughtiness and pride will creep
into her heart."
A little later, when such thoughts came into
their minds, others began to mingle with them.
It is not good always to be laughing and play-
ing," they murmured. "Work promotes serious-
ness. People who do things so quickly and so
easily are not the most capable after all, but those
who exercise perseverance and self-control." And
they began to repent of not having earlier put a
check upon such a child as this.
"We ought never to have allowed her to be
called Sunrise," they said. Is n't it natural that
she should think herself something different from
all the rest of mankind ?"
Then both father and mother decided to make
her live as the common people did. "Now that
you are a well-grown girl, it is high time that you
were learning to work and to live and to speak like
other people, and as suits our position," they said.
And with this, Sunrise's mother put a great mass
of flax into her daughter's hand, bidding her go
with it alone into the spinning-room, and not to
come back again until it had all been spun.
It was already well on in the day, and the twi-
light not far off. In the big open fire-place a bright
fire was burning. Just as the last lingering ray of
daylight had vanished from the sky, a little mouse
came running out of his hole. Scampering across
the floor to the spinning-wheel, it sprang up on
the shoulder of the industrious little maiden, and
said:
Sunrise, give me something to eat."
Then the little girl answered:
I would gladly give you something to eat,
mousie, but I have nothing, and I dare not go out
of this room to get you anything. But if you '11
eat a bit of this piece of fat that I have to grease
my spinning-wheel with, you 're very welcome to
it. I 'll make shift without it."
The mouse thanked her and ate up the fat.
While it was still eating, there was a growling
and a fumbling at the door, and in came a mon-
strous bear. Slowly he shambled and tramped
across the floor till he had come up to the spinning-
wheel. Then he looked straight at the little girl
with his great wild eyes, and said:
"Come, Sunrise, I want you to play blind-
man's-buff with me."
At this, Sunrise was terribly frightened.
Oh, dear! she thought, "if somebody would
only help me get away from this bear! If he
touches me with those great claws of his, he will
wound me terribly."


759


But, before Sunrise had fairly finished thinking
this, the mouse ran and perched itself on her
shoulder on the side farthest from the bear, and
whispered in her ear:
"Don't be afraid, Sunrise. Say to him, 'Oh,
yes, we 'll have a game if you like'; then put the
fire out on the hearth, and sit down to your spin-
ning-wheel in the corner. While you are hidden
there, I '11 run around the room in your place, ring-
ing some little bells as I go, and the bear will
think all the time he is hearing those tiny round
balls on your necklace tinkling."
So the little girl said bravely, out loud:
Oh, yes, bear, we'll have a game of blind-
man's-buff if you like very willingly, I'm sure.
But first I must put this fire out on the hearth, lest
you should see me, you know. So go away from
me, like a good bear, please, and wait till I am
ready for the game."
The bear then withdrew to the other end of the
room, while the little girl extinguished the fire,
put the spinning-wheel into the corner, and hid
herself behind it.
Meanwhile, the little mouse had begun to run
around with his two tiny bells. At the sound of
these the bear immediately began to grope his
way in that direction. Away sprang the mouse
again, and the bells sounded quite at the other
end of the room. Again the poor bear danced off
after him. But the mouse had nimble little legs
and could make long jumps, while the bear, with
his great, clumsy paws, shuffled along but slowly,
so that wherever he might go he always heard the
bells tinkling far in the opposite direction. Still,
the mousie ran merrily on. Bruin, however, was
getting more and more tired. Every now and
then he would cry:
I '11 catch you yet; I '11 catch you yet, Sun-
rise! "
But the hours went by, and the little bells
seemed as far off from poor Bruin as ever.
Midnight had passed; the cocks were crowing
to tell people that morning had come, and still the
weary chase went on the mouse was here, there,
and everywhere; now making a bold run under
the bear, now taking a flying leap right over his
back. Now the little bells sounded on one side of
the room; an instant later, far away on the other.
It seemed to the bear as if they were ringing in
all the four corners of the room at once.
"Oh, ho Sunrise, now I 've caught you! the
bear would cry, springing off to the right. No
sooner had he done so than away would fly mousie
with his bells to the left. At last, from such long
and constant turnings, the bear began to grow
dizzy. He staggered and fell, panting with weari-
ness.







SUNRISE.


"Enough, enough, Sunrise! he cried. "I'll
acknowledge you can beat me at blind-man's-buff."
Then the little girl felt moved with compassion
toward the tired bear, and came out of the corner
to fan him with her handkerchief.
Oh, woe is me !" said the bear, with a sigh,


so that, half-blinded, they were forced to shut their
eyes. But when, a moment afterward, Sunrise
opened hers again-behold!-whose hand was
she. holding? And who was it that was holding
hers ?
"We are in our own castle," said the prince,


SOt P Seid.ln sc
"'COME, SUNRISE, I WANT YOU TO PLAY BLIND-MAN'S-BUFF WITH ME


"that does n't cool me a bit. You must take me who stood before her, his face beaming all over
out of my skin." with joy. "You have delivered me and disen-
How can I take you out of your skin ?" asked chanted the wood. You will now rule over my
Sunrise. entire kingdom. Every day you shall drive out
"Here, take hold of this right paw," was the through the land in my golden coach, and you will
answer. lighten the hearts of all my people by your glance,
And scarcely had Sunrise touched the long fur so that their toil and labor will be turned into joy
that was as black as night when a great shining and pleasure, and there will never be heard again
light fell over them, both the maiden and the bear, a complaint of misery or a cry of distress. I have


[AUGUST,







SWEPT AWAY. 701


sent your father and mother, as a compensation
for the loss of you, a herd of horses and twelve
wagons full of newly cut wheat."
Sunrise now reigned by the side of her young
consort over the great kingdom where formerly,
to the east of her father's little homestead, had
stood the dense, dark forest.
And as she drove each day through the country
roads, she turned a little aside in order to visit the
home of her childhood, and to greet as of old her
father and mother and all who loved her bright,
sweet face.
And her father and mother were both very


happy over the good fortune that had befallen
their daughter.
But the first law that Sunrise begged her hus-
band to make, after she went to help him rule
over his land, was that every cat in the kingdom
should be obliged to wear a small bell tied around
its neck night and day.
Is that because the cats all play at blind-man's-
buff with the mice?" asked the prince, with a
roguish smile.
And when Sunrise had given her husband a
light nod of assent, the prince immediately or-
dered the law to be enforced.


SWEPT AWAY.*

BY EDWARD S. ELLIS.


CHAPTER XIV.

THE SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.

JACK presently dipped the broad paddle in the
yellow current and began working the scow over
toward the western shore. He had no special pur-
pose in this, except the feeling that possibly there
might be more safety nearer land than in the middle
of the ocean of water. The sky remained cloudy and
overcast. Several times a few drops of water fell,
but fortunately these threatening demonstrations
were all they felt of the storm. Crab resumed
his coat, and, as Dollie kept her shawl wrapped
around her, she was quite comfortable.
As Jack was in need of sleep (having scarcely
closed his eyes during the preceding night),
it was now arranged that he should take a nap
while the others remained on the lookout. He
told Crab to hold the boat nearly parallel with
the stream, to guard against running in among the
tree-tops, and to work his way toward the west;
in case he caught sight of any steamer, he was to
awaken him, and to make for it with might and
main.
The faithful fellow promised to follow these
directions, so Jack stretched himself out in the
boat, with his head resting against the slope of the
stern, and in a few minutes was sound asleep.
Crab followed Jack's instructions implicitly. He
was accustomed to hard work, was strong and
active, and he plied the paddle with such vigor
that the scow made considerable progress in the
desired direction. Possibly an hour had passed,


when both Crab and Dollie began to be alarmed
by the increasing turbulence of the water. It was
agitated all about them, as if fretted by some great
disturbance beneath. It was cut up into numerous
short, chopping waves, and broken by eddies and
cross currents, while the main body of the stream
rolled over and upon itself in such a wild fashion
that Crab feared the boat would be swamped.
But, though frightened, he saw no way in which
Jack could help them, so he permitted him to
sleep on undisturbed. The scow was tossed hither
and thither like a cockle-shell, and more than once
water was flung into the boat. Crab did his best
for a time with the paddle; but, as all his efforts
to steady the boat proved unavailing, he presently
threw down the paddle, and convulsively grasped
the gunwale.
Hold fast he said to Dollie, so dat, if de
boat flops ober, you '11 be dar all de same."
Dollie obediently grasped the other side with all
her strength, and, thus steadying herself, looked
wonderingly at her brother.
How can he sleep through all this? she asked
herself, half envying him. "He must be very
tired."
Undoubtedly he was, for though he stirred
several times he did not open his eyes. The
swinging and rocking of the boat had a soothing
effect on him, which, after all, was fortunate, for
the rest he was thus enabled to gain gave him
renewed strength for the trials that were at hand.
The disturbance which so alarmed Crab and
Dollie was due to the fact that they were pass-
ing a point where the waters of some other river


* Copyright, 1883, by Edward S. Ellis.







SWEPT AWAY.


poured into the Mississippi. The violent agita-
tion lasted fully an hour, when they gradually
swept into a smoother current.
With a sigh of relief Crab resumed his paddle,
and soon had the scow moving steadily again
toward the western boundary of the flood. As by
far the greater portion of the overflow lay to the
eastward, the scow had not gone very far in this
direction before Dollie exclaimed:
Yonder are houses that are standing still! "
Crab looked at them a few minutes before he
understood the cause.
Ob course dey am," he then replied, "for
dey 're restin' on de ground. See, away back
behind 'em am woods, so dat must be de new
bank ob de Massassip."
The town in sight was one of the numerous par-
tially submerged ones along the river: that is, the
greater portion was under water, but enough was
above to keep the buildings from floating off with
the current. There were about a hundred build-
ings in all, and the streets could be easily traced
from the boat. The water, in most cases, reached
to the second story, and a great many people were
seen grouped on the roofs and passing between
the buildings in flats and dug-outs. As the sub-
merged town was still some distance below them,
Crab exerted himself to the utmost to reach it be-
fore they were carried past, though he did not know
that anything would thus be gained save the mere
gratification of his curiosity, for it was not likely
that such an afflicted settlement was in a condition
to extend hospitality to others.
Dollie watched the strange scene before her
with much interest, though it presently became
evident that the swift current would carry them
past before they could reach the vicinity of the
houses. Many of the settlers or citizens seemed
to be taking matters philosophically; two were
seen seated on a roof near the chimney, with their
knees drawn up, smoking their pipes. On the
flat top of another house a fire was burning in a
stove, the pipe of which extended a dozen feet
into the air.
At one point a large flat-boat was moored to a
chimney, and fully twenty pigs and cattle were
crowded upon it, the owners administering as best
they could to the wants of the unfortunate animals
from their scanty store.
On still another roof a family were engaged in
their household duties. The mother was hanging
clothes on an extemporized line, a servant was
washing, and the head of the family was rocking
a cradle, which, it is to be presumed, contained a
baby, though it was not visible to Crab and Dollie.
Many of these people waved salutes to the chil-
dren, and asked where they were from, and where


they were going. The former question was much
easier to answer than the latter, but they neverthe-
less replied to all inquiries in the same cheerful
spirit in which they were made.
Shortly after the scow had drifted by this collec-
tion of houses, Jack opened his eyes and rose to a
sitting position. The change in the lookout rather
surprised him, but he commended Crab for what
he had done, adding:
I think it is much better for us to be close to
shore than out in the middle of the river."
"Dat's de way I feel 'bout it," said Crab,
"though I don't zackly know why."
"Why, of course we should be safer if we were
on the land than we are on the water," explained
Jack; and if anything happens to injure the boat,
we have a better chance of getting ashore if we
are close in."
Crab heaved a great sigh, as though a burden
had been lifted from his shoulders. He had been
trying to decide why it was he was so desirous of
keeping land in sight, and now he was relieved to
find some one who could tell him.
Jack stood erect in the boat, and, as he had
often done before, looked anxiously in every direc-
tion. The scene differed little from that with
which he was already but too familiar, except in
the appearance of the partially submerged district
on the Arkansas side. Here and there tracts of
land could be seen above the water, while in
other places the river reached only to the lower
floors of the houses within sight. There were
some places where the current ran on both sides
of dwellings, which, standing on slight elevations,
had been made islands by the flood. Crab was
still vigorously sculling, when Jack observed three
houses on a small island, between which and the
main-land was at least a half-mile of water. Only
the upper portions of the buildings were visible,
and people were on the roofs.
"Run in closer," said Jack. "I should like to
say something to those people."
Do you want to stop there?" asked Crab, tem-
porarily suspending his sculling, and drawing his
oar inside the boat.
"No. Keep off some distance," said Jack.
How fast the river is running he added, look-
ing at the houses, which, being stationary, gave a
good idea of the swiftness of the mighty current
that was hurrying them onward.
One of those persons is waving something,"
said Dollie, who was looking intently at the build-
ings on the island.
Such was undoubtedly the fact. A man was
standing erect on the highest portion of one of
the roofs, swinging a blanket, evidently signaling
the little party in the boat to come closer.


[AUGUST,







SWEPT


"He wants us to come nearer," said Jack.
"Something must be the matter: that looks like
a signal of distress."


CHAPTER XV.

THE GOOD SAMARITANS.

THERE could be no doubt that the people on
one of the roofs were anxious that the boat should
approach them, and Crab, therefore, applied him-
self to the paddle with all his strength. He sent
the boat quartering over the water with such speed
that the landing (if such it may be termed) was
certain to be made.
The roof on which stood the man who had sig-
naled to them was of planking and sloped very
little. Beside him crouched a woman, evidently
his wife, while a young girl, no older than Dol-
lie, lay with her head in her mother's lap.
The children observed, as they rapidly drew
near, that the man who had signaled them was
tall and powerfully built, with a full beard, and
without hat, coat, or
vest. There was a
wild, haggard look in
his eye, and the ap-
pearance of the fam-
ily generally was ex-
pressive of suffering.
..-~8 .,. ,.,


-i '- I.





"Can we do any-
thing for you ? asked ,". ----
Jack, as Crab skill- '
fully brought the scow j--
against the side of the L' '
building.
Have you anything \ 'd''
to eat ?" inquired the
stranger, huskily.
We have a little food," answered Jack.
In the name of pity give us some said the
man. We are almost starving "
And moving down the incline of the roof, the
famishing supplicant extended his arms for the
food, while his wife seemed to brighten visibly at
the sound of the word.
Crab, who at first had heard this request with
dismay, was now filled with sympathy at the sight


AWAY. 763


of their pleasure, and, with a revulsion of feeling,
caught up the bag, exclaiming, as he handed it to
the stranger:
Take it all-take it all! If you's dat hungry,
I '11 go widout supper an' breakfast. "
Jack was about to interpose, for he feared some
of the food would be wasted, but when he saw the
yearning look an the -
sad, hungry f,.: ... -
the mother an I1 -!1
he had not th.. I :,..
r -"". .. ,


": n i l. I.-






- .. _-*
-_
II7M_


L* ;
~;~r7


eyes, while she forgot, in
the very excess of her sym-
pathy, to stir or say a word.
Eagerly the poor man
drew some of the crumb-
ling corn-bread from with-
in the bag, and handed it
to his wife and child, say-


;------ ~- ing, in a husky, tremulous
S voice:
Food at last, Mary Give
:ome to Jennie, and eat, both
..fyou "
:.| ther-hke, the woman placed the
a, i. piece in the hands of the child, who
L.: ,1 eating slowly at first, but soon
'I ii1 ravenous eagerness that was pain-
S I r.._ witness.
-. T!e mother ate with more care and
S .: I ..int, but all saw that her hunger was
.. !m-3s severe than that of her child.
The haggard face of the father seemed
to lighten up, as he saw the sufferings
of his dear ones relieved.
"May I give them a little more?" he asked,
when the last crumb had vanished, addressing
himself to Jack.
Give them as much as you think best," was
the unhesitating answer.
Another piece of the precious corn-bread was
handed to the mother, who broke it in two and
shared it with her child, saying to her husband:


~c _=-







SWEPT AWAY.


"That is enough, I think."
At'this moment, Crab, who was holding the
boat against the side of the building, said in a low
whisper to Jack:
De man hisself has n't eat a moufful! "
Jack turned to him, and inquired:
"Why don't you eat, sir?"
"It is more pleasure to see my wife and child
eat," he replied, with a faint smile.
"But are n't you hungry? persisted Jack.
"There is no need of asking that," replied the
man, for I have n't had anything to eat for days;


Words can not tell how much I thank you,"
said the man, handing the bag back to Jack, who
took it after inviting him to eat more; "we were
discouraged and almost starving. I do not know
whether we can live much longer, as it is, but we
thank you none the less on that account."
"Why do you talk in that way?" asked Jack.
"You have as good a chance as we to be picked
up, and we are hopeful that some steamer will take
us aboard very soon."
"No, you have a much better prospect," said the
stranger, for you are moving about on the river,


~"-;~;

.I "i-.I.
`'
N

-- -- O~.I ,...~..


THE SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.


but you have not very much yourself, and I will
not rob you. Here! "
And he handed the bag to Jack, who was the
one nearest to him in the boat. But the boy
refused to receive it.
"There is more bread in there, and bacon and
ham," said he. "We have not lost a meal; help
yourself. You must."
The stranger protested, but finally consented;
and, as he stood erect and slowly ate a large piece
of the bread and a slice of bacon, it would be
hard to say who was the happier-the starving
man, tasting again the food he so sorely needed,
or the children who had so generously shared with
entire strangers their most precious possession.


while none of the boats come near enough for me
to hail them."
"But you are to get in the boat and go with us,"
said Jack, heartily.
The invitation was indeed a surprise to the
stranger, but it was a most grateful one, and he
accepted it without hesitation, and with many ex-
pressions of gratitude.
There were only a few effects gathered on the
roof, and but a part of these were taken. There
was some extra clothing and a couple of loose
planks, which were placed across the scow, from
side to side, so as to afford rude seats for the pas-
sengers. The mother and her child were quite
well clad, though the former was compelled to use


r -- __~---- s ,--I -


[AUGUST,


.,0,







SWEPT AWAY.


her shawl as a covering for her head. The girl
had a neat hat, which had been lying beside her.
This she now placed on her head, and the father
helped the two from the roof to the boat. The
stranger, who had evidently been a strong man
but a few weeks before, moved slowly and feebly,
while the girl was scarcely able to stand. Dollie's
eyes filled with tears, as she reached out and
helped her aboard.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE WESTERN SHORE.

DOLLIE LAWRENCE, indeed, took charge of the
stranger girl from the moment she stepped on
board. She urged her to eat more, and the child
would have been only too glad to do so; but when
she looked at her mother, the latter shook her
head.
My name is Dollie Lawrence," said the youth-
ful hostess, presently; what is yours?"
Jennie Wheeler," was the reply. I 'm eight
years old," she added.
So am I," said Dollie.
"The river came clear up to my house," re-
marked Dollie, looking expectantly at her new
friend, who promptly rejoined :
So it did to mine."
"It came very near drowning us," continued
Dollie, quickly.
"And we thought it would surely drown us,"
rejoined Jennie; and by this time, as their arms
were locked, the two children were almost laugh-
ing at the similarity of their experiences. Dollie
hastened to add:
We took some bread and meat with us."
So did --"
Jennie stopped herself with a look of dismay.;
to her sorrow, the chain of extraordinary coinci-
dences between her friend's history and her own
ended here. But Dollie instantly began again.
We knew the river was coming," she said,
so Jack (that 's my big brother over there)
helped me cook some bread and bacon, and we
got all ready. When we knew the house was
going to start, we got out on the roof, and we 've
been floating ever since."
We were all asleep," said Jennie, "and Father
told us we need n't bother, for the river would never
get up near our house, 'cause it had never done so;
and so we did n't worry or get ready for it. When
Father woke us in the night, the water was up to
our beds in the second story, and we had just time
to get out on the roof. We could n't take any-
thing to eat, and only some clothes that were above
the water."


"Did n't you feel sad ? asked Dollie, sympa-
thetically.
"Yes-very sad," responded Jennie, solemnly.
"Then Father sat down beside Mother, and I saw
tears running down their cheeks, and that made
me feel worse than ever. I heard him say we
could n't stand it much longer, and then I seemed
to get weak, and so did Mother, and we sat down
almost half-asleep, and I did n't feel near so badly
as I did when I began to get hungry."
At this moment, the company in the boat were
startled by such terrific screaming that their ears
tingled. The screams seemed to be close at hand,
and sounded as if some one were in very great
agony.
All involuntarily turned to Mr. Wheeler. To their
surprise, he was leaning over the side of the boat,
and grappling with something in the water. Before
anyone could understand what it all meant, he threw
his shoulders back and lifted a small pig into the
boat. It struggled fiercely, and uttered such
squeals that the girls put up their hands to shut
out the sound. But its captor flung it on its back,
held it motionless with one hand, and speedily
dispatched it with a bowie-like knife which he
drew from a belt at his hip.
This little fellow may serve us well before we
get out of the boat," explained Mr. Wheeler, who
seemed to be recovering his strength and spirits
rapidly. I don't see any good way of cooking
it, but we shall find a way, and I am hungry
enough this minute to eat it cooked in almost any
style. It's much better than starving to death,"
he added, as he proceeded to dress the pig.
There were other pigs in the water, as the rest
of the party now observed, on looking around.
There were fully fifty of them, and they were
swimming powerfully and swiftly, as those animals
always do. It had been a happy thought of Mr.
Wheeler to secure a young one that was passing
quite close to him.
Where did they come from? asked Jack, as
he watched them shying off toward shore.
I do not know," replied Mr. Wheeler. They
may have started from some bluff or piece of land
a half-dozen miles up the river."
Where are they going? pursued Jack, natu-
rally anxious for information.
They don't know themselves," was the reply.
Mr. Wheeler showed much skill in dressing the
pig, remarking that, if he only had the facilities,
he would roast it and give his friends as good a
meal as they could get anywhere.
"Why not land and roast it? asked Jack.
Dat 's de idea," said Crab, enthusiastically,
and, dipping the paddle into the water with re-
newed energy, he at once headed the craft in the






SWEPT AWAY.


direction of the wooded shore, which was now at
no great distance.
I think it will be a wise proceeding," observed
Mr. Wheeler, and when you are tired, Crab (as
I notice they call you), let me take a hand."
I will relieve him," said Jack; you have been
without food so long, you must need rest."
"I did feel weak," said Mr. Wheeler; "but
what I have eaten, and, more than that, the sight
of the relief that you gave my wife and child, have
put new life and strength into me."
And, in proof of this assertion, he presently in-
sisted that he had been cramped so long on the
roof that he really needed some exercise, and so
Crab yielded the paddle to him. He handled it
with considerable. skill, and the scow steadily
approached the land to the westward. As they
came nearer, however, they saw to their disap-
pointment that the trees were partly submerged,
and that it would do no good to push the boat in
among them. However, they kept well in, gliding
rapidly downward until an opening was seen some
distance below. Mr. Wheeler exerted himself, and
soon the boat was driven against the land. He
nimbly sprang ashore, and, catching hold of the
bow, he drew it up so far that it was beyond the
reach of the powerful current.
"We must n't forget," said he, that probably
the river is still rising, and if we leave the scow for
any length of time, it will float off."
Den we'11 keep our eye on it," replied Crab,
looking intently at the craft, as if to warn it that it
must attempt no tricks on its own account.
As soon as the scow was "anchored," there was
a universal scramble for shore, Dollie and Jennie
laughing as though they were just starting out on
a ramble and frolic through the woods. The spot
where they had landed was a stretch of ground
that had never been cultivated. Only a little way
beyond was a growth of heavy timber extending far
into the interior. There were no houses visible,
nor any living creature. A more desolate spot
could not have been found in the wilds of Africa or
among the islands of the sea. And yet it was like
a haven of refuge to the little party that had been
drifting aimlessly on the wide waste of waters.


CHAPTER XVII.

THE EXPLORING PARTY.

A GENERAL scattering took place, all being
anxious to collect fuel for the fire which Mr.
Wheeler needed to prepare the meal of roast pig,
and it was not long before they had gathered
much more than was needed. Leaves, twigs,


dried branches, and pieces of dead limbs were
thrown together, and speedily set on fire by the
settler, who always carried matches with him in a
little rubber safe.
As he had camped out many a time, when hunt-
ing in the lowlands of Arkansas, he was not at a
loss as to the proper course to pursue. As they
were not suffering for food, he said, the pig should
be roasted to a turn now before being served, and,
as that would take considerable time, the others
had better enjoy themselves as they saw fit.
Mrs. Wheeler decided to stay with her husband,
that she might give him any needed assistance,
while Dollie and Jennie preferred to ramble in the
woods near at hand, promising to keep within hail-
ing distance.
"If you feel like taking exercise," said Mr.
Wheeler to Jack, "you may as well go with
them."
So I will," said he, and he had already started
when Mr. Wheeler suggested that he had better
take his gun, adding:
There 's no telling what you may find in these
woods at such a time, and you know the saying is
that, when you want fire-arms in Arkansas, you
want them very badly."
I hope I sha'n't need them," remarked Jack,
lifting the gun from the scow, however, and telling
the girls to run ahead. Then he asked Crab:
Don't -you want to go with us ? "
"No, I thank you," replied that individual.
"I 'm going' to camp on the ground heah an' help
Masser Wheeler. Dat will help me get up an
appetite for de meal when it am ready."
All laughed heartily at this remark-all but
Crab, who firmly refused to leave the spot.
While Jack was holding a short conversation
with Mr. Wheeler, Dollie and Jennie had entered
the woods near at hand, and, strolling along arm-
in-arm, forgot all their past trials in their present
enjoyment. The forest consisted mainly of pine,
with considerable undergrowth; and, as the ground
was quite high and no rain of any account had
fallen recently, the ramble was an inviting one.
Mr. Wheeler had spoken truly when he inti-
mated that, at such times, there was no telling
what one might encounter in the woods, and it
was well for any one entering them to carry a gun.
Laughing, chatting, and talking in the aimless
way natural to childhood, the girls strolled along,
paying no heed to their direction, but taking care
not to wander beyond call of their friends. Dollie
was strong and active, and so was Jennie natu-
rally, but her late sufferings had taken something
from her powers of endurance, and they had gone
but a very short distance when she complained of
feeling tired.


[AUGUST,






SWEPT AWAY.


Let us sit down and rest awhile," she proposed,
looking around for some suitable place.
"Yonder is a log," said Dollie, starting toward
a fallen pine near at hand. Walking faster than
her friend she was soon near the tree, when she
uttered a scream and ran back to Jennie.
"What is the matter?" asked the other, in
alarm.
I saw a big snake coiled near the stump of
that tree," replied Dollie, glancing furtively over
her shoulder, as though she expected it was com-
ing after them.
"I want to see it, too," said Jennie, beginning


/


v.L


-IK


- ,~. I


JACK KILLS THE RATTLESNAKE.

to move on tiptoe toward the pine, as though to
get close to the reptile without being discovered.
Dollie caught her arm.
Don't Don't, I beg of you she entreated.
"It is a rattlesnake, and if it bites you it will kill
you "
But I am not going to let it bite me," said
Jennie, stoutly, still edging away from her friend.
But how can you prevent it ? asked Dollie.
It did n't bite you, did it ?" demanded Jennie.


"No," was Dollie's reply; "but that was be-
cause I saw it in time and got away."
"Well," said Jennie, I guess I can see as well as
you, and you need n't be afraid of my getting bitten."
As she was resolved on going, Dollie decided to
go along to take care of her.
The alarm of Dollie was well founded. The two
had not gone far when they caught sight of the
most terrible-looking rattlesnake they had ever
seen. It was of immense size, and was coiled near
the stump, with its head slightly raised from the
center, while its rattle was gently vibrating and
giving forth that peculiar sound which no one who
has heard it can ever forget.
The children were almost fascinated by the
sight, though both had seen similar serpents be-
fore. None, however, had been so large as this
one, which fastened its tiny black eyes on them, as
though meditating an attack.
Their fear was too great to permit them to ap-
proach dangerously near, and so from a distance
they commented in awed whispers on the frightful
appearance of the reptile.
"Now that you have had a good look at it, please
step aside and let me take a view," said a well-
known voice.
The girls turned and saw Jack at their elbow,
with one of the hammers of his gun raised. Dollie
and Jennie hurriedly moved behind him. Taking
careful aim, Jack discharged a load of shot which
ended the life of the Crotalus, one of the most easily
killed of the reptile species.
"Now, girls," said Jack, "that shows that you
must not wander too far; I will stay by you."
They were glad enough to have Jack's company,
for he was full of life and jollity, and he devoted
himself to entertaining them.
"We have plenty of time to spare," said he,
so we will go a little farther in the woods."
He led the way, the girls laughing and playing
about him, while all kept their eyes wide open to
prevent running into any new danger.
Remember," he cautioned, I have only one
charge left in the gun, and, if we come across any
wild animal, it will be best to run, unless he drives
us into a corner- Ha What is that, yonder ?"


(To be contizued.)


..

'''








ZINTHA'S FORTUNE. 769


ZINTHA'S FORTUNE.

BY KATE TANNATT WOODS.


WHIZ whiz i whir whir puff puff!- and the
Through Pacific Express, on its way to the Golden
Gate, paused before the station at Fremont, Ne-
braska. The engine drew a long breath, like a boy
after a race. The passengers hurried out to get
some dinner at the refreshment-room near by; the
train dispatcher, conductors, and telegraph opera-
tors joked each other merrily; and every one was
smiling and happy, although the day was unusually
warm for June.
On one side of the track stood a large grain
elevator, and many men were busy loading some
cars with barley destined for the New York market.
The elevator platform, like that of the station, was
crowded with people. A little apart from the
crowd stood a girl of twelve, with long braids of
hair down her back and a sturdy baby boy in her
arms. At the open window of a Pullman car a
young lady and two children sat watching this
girl. A strange, wistful look in her eyes attracted
them.
Come here, little girl," said the young lady;
" come and get some candy for your little brother."
"He is not my brother, and she bids me never
cross the track alone," said the girl, and her large
brown eyes grew more wistful. The pretty children
in the car reached out and tried to toss some
chocolates across to her; they all fell, however, on
the track near the wheels of the grain cars.
"Is she' your mother? asked the young lady.
No; my mother is dead," replied the girl.
"Oh, Aunt Sue, do you hear?" cried the girl
in the car. She has n't any mother-just like
Hal and me. I'm so sorry."
"Yes, Vesta, I hear," said the young lady;
"the poor child looks unhappy."
Just then the conductor came in to say that
some Chinese were engaged in cooking their
dinner on the prairie close by, and to inquire if
Miss Perkins, with her little niece and nephew,
would like to visit them.
Miss Perkins was delighted, and at once nodded
to the little girl that she was coming out.
Can you tell me anything about that child ? "
she asked, as the conductor assisted the party across
the track.
"The one with the baby? said he. "No; I have
noticed her here frequently, sometimes when it
storms hard, and she is always holding that heavy
boy."
"She looks like a picture I once saw in Rome,"
VOL. X.-49.


said Miss Perkins, "and I want to speak to her.
Shall we take her with us to see the Chinese ? "
"Certainly, if you wish." And, stepping up to
her, the conductor took the baby and lifted him
down from the platform, and then smiled as the
girl leaped lightly to the ground.
Must you carry that big boy ? said Miss Per-
kins to her, as she was about to take up the baby
again. You look tired. He can walk, can he not ?"
"Yes, Miss, but he does not like to."
Miss Perkins took the little fellow's fat hand in
hers, saying, Now baby will walk like a big
man," and the party soon joined Hal and Vesta,
who were already watching the industrious for-
eigners, and calling to Aunt Sue to "come quick."
It was a curious sight. Groups of Chinamen were
gathered around fires built upon the ground, with
various queer-looking utensils lying about. Hal
walked around one man, trying in vain to count his
pockets, for every moment he emptied a fresh
one. Miss Perkins said that the inmost recesses
of his clothing must be all pockets. Hal was
anxious to buy some chopsticks then and there,
but his auntie told him he would see them fre-
quently, for the servants in his father's new home
at Los Angelos were all Chinamen. The wearers
of pigtails would not answer any questions save
with the words, "No talkee." The children soon
became tired, and were glad to return to the car,
taking the stranger girl with them.
What is your name, dear ?" asked Miss Perkins,
when the child was seated by Vesta, with the baby
between them.
"Zintha Dierke," she replied.
"Do you live near here?"
"Out on the prairie yonder."
"Who takes care of you? "
"Nobody but myself."
But you live with some one ? "
"Yes, Miss, with Hans's mother," explained
Zintha. "I mind him for my board; my father
is away, and I look for him every day."
"Where is your father? said Miss Perkins.
I can not tell, Miss," was the reply. He has
gone to work, and when he has made plenty of
money he will come and take me. If I could
know where he was I should be happy. If I ask
Mrs. Hansen, she says, 'You will hear in good
time '; but the good time never comes."
"I am very sorry, dear," said Miss Perkins,
but I am sure your father will come."


ZINTHA'S FORTUNE.


769







[AUGUST,


ZINTHA'S FORTUNE.


I come always to the cars," continued the girl.
"I can not keep away. He kissed me and said,
'Be brave, my Zintha, and I will come for you.'
But my eyes ache with looking, and he does not
come."
Brave is a grand word, little Zintha," said Miss
Perkins, as she kissed the sad little face. So kind
a father must have written, and some time all will
be well. You should go to school, my dear, and
learn to read and write."
"I read now, Miss," replied Zintha, "but I can
not go to the school. Mrs. Hansen has a smaller
baby, and she keeps me to mind Hans. My
father wished me to go to the school every day,
but I can not."
Miss Perkins looked very sober for a few moments,
then she said: Zintha, I shall always remember
you, and you must not forget me. Here is a card
with my name upon it. I have two homes, one in
Los Angelos,-printed here, as you sec,--and one
in New York. For one year I shall be with my
brother in Los Angelos, perhaps longer. Will you
keep trying to write, and by and by send me a letter
there ? "
I will, Miss-I try every day," said Zintha,
eagerly.
"I take Hans to the big lumber-yard over there,
and make him a place between the pile of boards,
and then I write. See this pencil; it was given me
by the nice man who measures the lumber, and I
do many lessons on the boards. I write my father's
name often. I love to write that. Heinrich Dierke
is his name."
When the passengers came back into the cars,
Miss Perkins knew that she must send her little
friend away. Hal and Vesta filled a box with bon-
bons for her, and Miss Perkins gave her some pic-
torial papers and a bag full of crackers made in
shapes like animals, and then the conductor lifted
Zintha and the baby out upon the platform.
I think she wanted your book, Aunt Sue," said
Hal; "she kept looking at it so earnestly."
"Poor child! said Miss Perkins. If it were
not my precious copy of Whittier's poems, with his
own handwriting on the fly-leaf, I should certainly
give it to her."
A sudden thought came into her head. She
turned over the leaves quickly, and wrote upon a
scrap of paper four lines from one of the poems:

"The dear God hears and pities all:
He knoweth all our wants,
And what we blindly ask of him,
His love withholds or grants."

Aunt Sue hurried to the door with the paper,
just as the conductor cried, All aboard "
"Do give this to that little girl," she said.


With pleasure," replied that polite official; and
he immediately reached over the heads of those
about, saying, "Here, little girl, the lady sends
you this. May be it will prove a fortune."
Some of the by-standers smiled. How could such
a scrap of paper prove a fortune, and if it should,
what would that sad-eyed child holding a fat Ger-
man baby do with it?
Again the train moved on its way, and in due
time reached California. There General Perkins
met.his sister, and bore her away with his children
to his orange groves near Los Angelos.
Aunt Sue enjoyed every moment of the restful,
indolent life, and wondered if she should ever care
again for the noise and bustle of her native city.
Hal gloried in his freedom. As for Vesta, she
was not too happy to think of Zintha, and Aunt
Sue was constantly teased to tell her own fancies
concerning the little maid who carried baby Hans.
Aunt Sue never told all she thought about it,
but night after night she saw again Zintha's wistful
look, large brown eyes, and heavy braids of hair,
and the stolid face of little Hans.
How was it with Zintha?
Every day, when the weather was fair, she carried
Hans to the lumber-yard and wrote or figured upon
the boards. Sometimes she had a bit of paper
before her, held down by two bricks, to keep it
from being blown away.
See here, little one," said the foreman one day,
"what are these verses you are scribbling all over
my matched boards? "
Something a kind lady gave me, sir," she an-
swered, timidly. I hope it is not wrong, sir."
No harm done," said the foreman, only some
of the men spoke of it, and the boss might n't like
it, you know." The next day this kind friend
brought Zintha a large blank-book.
"There, sis," said he, "when you've written
that full you will be ready to copy sermons for the
minister."
Sometimes the foreman asked Zintha to figure
up a sale for him, in advance of his own reckoning.
Before long, he gave her rules for measurement, and
told her the names and grades of the lumber. She
soon understood the difference between flooring
and sheathing, joists and planks, and no one about
the yard knew the best places for piling up, or how
high each pile was, better than Zintha.
One day, the foreman was cross. Mr. Brown, the
clerk, was sick with the mumps, and the doctor
said he would not be out for a fortnight.
If it had happened at any other time I should n't
have cared," exclaimed the foreman; "but the
boss is in Chicago, and he 's very particular about
letters being answered promptly."
Could n't I write them ? asked Zintha. You


770







ZINTHA S FORTUNE.


have been so kind to me, I should like to do some-
thing for you, and I write quite well now."
The foreman looked at her keenly for a moment,
and then said: You 're a trump, little one; per-
haps you can. Trot into the office, and I '11 be in
there in a few moments."
Zintha was already perched on Mr. Brown's high
stool when he entered and began looking over the
letters. Tell this man," said he, putting a letter
before her, that we will fill his order on the loth
inst., if we can get the cars. Put your date up
there-so; the printed heads will help you."
I know how to do that," said Zintha, simply.
" I did it for Mr. Brown when he wanted to go to
a party. I know it all the way down to 'Yours
respectfully.' "
"Upon my word, you do!" said the foreman,
when the letter was finished; "and if you can get
rid of that baby of Hansen's, I can give you plenty
of work until the boss comes back."
Zintha's eyes sparkled. At noon, she hurried
home to Mrs. Hansen and told her the good news.
Hans was fast asleep.
May I go again this afternoon ?" asked Zintha.
"I care not where you are," said the tired
woman, while Hans is sleeping."
I will earn some money for you, Mrs. Han-
sen," said the girl, and you shall have a new
dress to wear to the church."
I can not have a gown while my man cares so
much for his beer," returned Mrs. Hansen, rather
grimly. "With plenty babies comes plenty trouble,
and all goes wrong. But you are a good girl, Zin-
tha, and I do wrong to speak you a cross word."
Zintha thanked Mrs. Hansen twice, and hurried
away to set the table. When the dishes were
washed and the house made clean and tidy, she
returned to the office.
Zintha had written letters for nearly two weeks
when the proprietor of the yard returned. He
frowned a little when he saw a young girl seated
on the office stool, but the foreman whispered a
few words to him and gave him some letters to
read; then he smiled and said: Equal to Brown's,
anyhow."
When Brown returned, Zintha was told that she
need not go away, for the business was increasing,
and the foreman bought a little chair for her,
which he placed in the private office. All day
long Zintha wrote and wrote, and when night came
she went back to the Hansen's house to sleep on
her hard bed with little Hans. She often thought
of the kind lady in the Pullman car, whom the
children had called Aunt Sue, and she said to her-
self, Now I can write her a fine long letter, if she
ever writes to me."
One day, when the train came in from California,


the expressman left a box in the station addressed
to Zintha Dierke, and a boy in the telegraph office
hurried away with it to the lumber-yard.
Great was the joy of Zintha. Her employer
opened it himself, and seemed greatly pleased when
the young girl took out two pretty dresses, made
with "tucks to let down as Zintha grew (as the
accompanying letter stated), and all manner of
pretty presents from Vesta, Hal, and the dear,
kind lady.
"Now, Zintha," said her employer that after-
noon, "I have a little plan for you. My foreman
has a spare room in his cottage, and his wife, who is
a good, motherly soul, will board you until we hear
from your father. It is not a nice place for you at
Hansen's, since he drinks so much, and it is too far
for you to go to your evening lessons. Now that
your kind friends have sent you these gifts, I think
you had better send them at once to your new
room, and I will see Mrs. Hansen for you."
"Ah, I can never thank you," said Zintha, "and
these kind friends, who do so much for me."
"Never mind the thanks," he replied, briskly.
" I've a girl of my own, and I mean to give you
a chance to surprise your father when he comes."
So the boxful of pretty presents went to Mr.
Gordon's house that night, and, before Zintha slept,
she wrote this letter to her friends in California:

"MosT DEAR AND KIND PEOPLE: The beautiful box came to
me this day, and I could cry, my heart is so happy. I am
writing now every day in the office, and every week my kind
master pays me for it. I learned to write, as you told me to do, and
twice every week I say lessons to a young lady who teaches in one
of the schools. It is very beautiful, and I thank the dear God and
you. The sweet words you wrote me have made my fortune. I
copied them day after day on the boards, until my kind friend gave
me a book. How pleased my dear father would be! I hear not a
word from him yet. And I am tired waiting. My master says hewill
'come some day when I am not thinking of him.' Ah, dear lady,
that is never! I always think of him and pray for his return. I
pray for you, too, dear lady, for I can not thank you. The books, the
dresses, and all the pretty clothing make me too happy to sleep.
Some time we may meet again, and then I may be wiser and better
able to tell the beautiful thoughts I have of you and the pretty
children. ZINTHA DIERKE-"

Why Aunt Sue cried over that little letter no one
could tell, and even General Perkins, her brother,
sat very still for a long time after he had read it.
Six months after the box reached Zintha, Gen-
eral Perkins himself walked into the office at the
lumber-yard, and there he found a tall, slender girl,
bending over some writing. He chatted some time
before he made himself known, and then Zintha's
happy face made him ample return for the bother
of stopping over to humor Sue's whim." He tried
in vain to persuade her to leave her position and go
with him to Los Angelos, when he should return
from the East, but she only answered:
"I thank all your kind family, General, but my
dear father must find me here when he returns."







ZINTHA S FORTUNE.


Her refusal did not prevent the General from stop-
ping again on his way back to the orange groves,
to leave a large bundle of books and some presents
from New York friends to whom he had told
Zintha's story.
Thus two years passed, with frequent letters be-
tween Los Angelos and Fremont, and at each
Christmas a box for Zintha. Aunt Sue still lin-
gered in California. She had grown stronger, her
brother thought, and the children could not spare
her.
One bright May day, Aunt Sue drove up the
avenue leading to Roselawn, as General Perkins's
place at Los Angelos was called. She had been out
with Vesta, and was just returning with the mail.
It is strange that Zintha does not write," said
she; I positively find myself worried if the child
misses one month."
Perhaps she is ill or very tired," said Vesta.
"But see, Aunt Sue, we have company: Papa is
talking with a young lady, and there is a gentle-
man in the hammock."
Aunt Sue did look. There was no mistaking
those brown eyes, and, as the ponies halted, she
sprang out and caught Zintha in her arms.
"Ah, dear, dear lady, 1 have come at last, and
here is the dear father with me! said the girl,
holding the lady's hand tightly in her own.
Yes, madam, I am here," said a fine-looking
man, advancing, "and all my life I shall thank
you for the love you have given my little girl."
What a happy party Roselawn held that night !
What a long, long story it was which Zintha's father
told-how he found work at once, and afterward
went into business for himself at Salt Lake City;
how he had often written to Hansen, sending
money and letters to his darling little girl; how
Hansen wrote that the child was well, and learn-
ing fast in school. Then he was ill, very ill, for
a long time. When he began to recover, his


first thought was for Zintha, but no word came.
One day, when he grew stronger, he went down
the road to build a new store-house. While the
men were at work one of them picked up a board
with a little verse on it. He carried it to the
"boss (who was no other than himself), who
read it as a hungry man eats bread. There was
his darling's name, with his own, beneath the
poet's words. He laughed aloud for joy, and the
men said: Ah, his head is not quite right since
the fever." But his head was right, and his heart,
too. He wrote at once to his child, and hear all
the long, sad story. The words of the poet,
dear friends," said he, as he concluded his long
story, "proved better than the telegraph; it was a
message from my own loved one when I was
anxious about her. Then I made haste to get to
her as soon as I could, and here we are together
at last, and trying to thank you for all you have
done."
Here Zintha's hand rested lovingly on his arm,
and Zintha's voice, quavering with love and joy,
said: "When the dear father builds his house, the
words which brought us together shall be carved
over the door, to commemorate the happy fortune
they have brought me."
"Brave little Zintha!" said the General. "It
was not the words alone, but your patient, earnest
work which won the good fortune. But come, Sue,
let us have some music."
Then Aunt Sue took down her guitar, and they
all sang the evening hymn, which floated on and
on through the fragrant air. It chanced that the
music fitted the verse that had brought Zintha's
fortune; so Miss Perkins added that stanza to the
hymn. And as she noted the fervor with which
they all joined in singing that verse, she could not
help wishing that it might have been heard by the
beloved and venerable poet in his New England
home.


[AUGUST,







[AUGusT,


r




r ~--Ue


..

?~ :~:



"
s


AN AUGUST DAY BY THE SEA-SHORE.







THE LADY OF THE "CHINGACHGOOK."


T LADY

OFRr THE


THE "Chingachgook" lay at her berth off Board-
man's wharf, all saddled, all bridled, all fit for a
fight." Her mainsail and her jib were hoisted,
her ensign and signal set; and she was tugging
with all her might at her mooring-line, evidently
fretting to be off. The "Ci,;,_ ...1..:...1:" was a
boat, of course, and not an Indian; but she was as
lithe and fleet as any chieftain that ever tracked
a foe, and there were those who would have in-
sisted that she was quite as intelligent and full of
life. She was a center-board boat, sloop-rigged,
twenty-four feet and four inches in length over all,
and therefore only a ".third-class sloop," according
to the tables of the Seaconnet Yacht Club, to which
she belonged. But with proper time allowance, ac-
cording to her dimensions, her youthful owner be-
lieved that she could beat any vessel afloat; and
this day he expected to do something toward proving
it. There was to be a race over the Blowaway
Island course, open to third-class sloops and cat-
boats of all sizes, for which the Chingachgook"


BY REV. CHARLES R. TALBOT.

was entered. It shall be added here, for what it is
worth to the reader, that, except for a change of
names, there is such a club as the Seaconnet Yacht
Club; there is such a boat as the "Chingach-
gook"; and there is such a young lady as the
heroine of this story.
The crew of the Chingachgook "-Cassius
Thorne by name and aged fifteen-having, with a
good deal of dogged labor, gotten up the mainsail
single-handed, had now seated himself on the star-
board rail and was idly kicking the heels of his
boating-shoes together over the side, and humming
to himself a song while he waited for the Captain
to come on board. The words of this song were
by W. S. Gilbert, but the music if music it
could be called- was by Cassius Thorne himself.
However, the words were fairly applicable to the
facts of his own case and were as follows:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy' brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.

Cassius called himself the crew of the Chin-
gachgook," though he wore the same uniform as
"Captain" Rodman and was his social equal.
The difference was that Rodman owned the boat.
But that difference was important, in the eyes
of Cassius Thorne. If there was anything that
the latter worshiped, it was a boat. A horse he
never looked at; a bicycle he held in profound
contempt; even for young ladies he cared not a
crust of bread. But give him a boat, and he was
made. Put him on the water, and he was in his
element. Indeed, speaking of young ladies, it is
not enough to say that Cassius did not care for
them. He abominated them. That, I think, is
the same as saying that he was afraid of them-
which was the fact. He always avoided them if
he could; he never raised his eyes when forced to
meet them; and, rather than walk up to one and
speak directly to her, he would have gone on board
the Chingachgook and sailed the boat, before a
howling tempest, straight in among four hundred
sea-serpents. All Cassius Thorne asked of the girls
was that they let him alone; I am sorry to say
that the dreadful creatures did not always do it.







774 THE LADY OF THE

This being understood, the feelings of Master
Thorne may be imagined when, presently, sitting
there on the rail and looking shoreward, he per-
ceived a boat, pulled by a man and conveying a
girl, seemingly of about his own age, approaching
the "Chingachgook" with the evident intention of
boarding her. The boatman, reversing his stroke
at length, and then slowly backing around, brought
his boat stern-foremost directly up to the quarter of
the Chingachgook," and a moment later the girl
stepped lightly on board.
Cassius had risen at the last and now stood look-
ing toward the stranger, with a sort of All-hands-
stand-by-to-repel-boarders !" air, but by no means
showing a disposition to advance. He was, in
truth, a good deal overcome, and he grasped the
shroud beside him for support. There must be
some mistake, of course. No such person as this
was expected on board the Chingachgook," or
had any business there.
Then the young lady looked at him. She was
a very attractive figure as she stood there, habited
in a dainty navy-blue sailor suit, with a daring bit
of scarlet visible here and there about it, and with
a jaunty hat on her head that did not pretend to
protect her brown face from the sun. For the face
itself, Cassius did not know whether it was pretty
or not. He was conscious of nothing about it but
the eyes. They were the kind of eyes that he had
always detested-eyes that, brimful of mirth and
mischief, are forever following a fellow about and
compelling him to look up in spite of himself, and
that, back of everything, he always knows are
making fun of him.
Good-morning," said she, sweetly.
Cassius said good-morning rather thickly, and
took off his yachting cap. He had sisters at home,
who taught him good manners, although they had
never been able to cure him of his diffidence.
"This is the Chingachgook,' is it not?" she
continued.
Yes, ma'am,- that is,-yes, this is the Chin-
gachgook'." Cassius blushed, and bit his tongue.
A tongue that made him say "ma'am to a girl
evidently not a day older than he himself deserved
to be bitten.
'' Ah, then I am all right," said she, complacently.
And so saying, she turned and stepped steadily
over into the stern-sheets. There she sat down, and,
taking a small bundle from her pocket, began un-
rolling it. It appeared to be some sort of fancy
work. She spread it upon her lap, and, having
threaded her needle from a tangled mass of worst-
ed, she at length set serenely to work, evidently
disposed to make herself at home. Cassius, with-
out moving from his place, had regarded her with
growing amazement until, all at once, she looked


"CHINGACHGOOK."


[AUGUST,


up and caught him at it. Then he turned away in
confusion, stealing off forward like a guilty thing.
He went and gave another pull at the peak-hal-
yards; and he stood about a long time, squinting
up at the boat's colors, possessed of a sudden
anxiety as to their being properly set, and all
the while he cast numerous stealthy glances to-
ward the mysterious personage in the stern-sheets.
Finally, he went "and stood at the bow, gazing
mournfully down into the water, as though he con-
templated a plunge beneath its surface. He wished
that Rodman would come. He felt that some-
thing ought to be done; but-- well, it was not
for him to take the responsibility of doing it, before
the Captain came on board.
Rodman was seen at last, appearing suddenly
among the crowd of people on the wharf, and, with-
out stopping to speak to any of them, jumping into
his gig and sculling himself swiftly toward the
" Chingachgook." The sloop carried only one boat,
name of which varied according to the use to which
it was put. When the Captain used it, it was a
gig. Cash," he would say, "bring around the
gig; I want to go ashore." But when the crew used
it, it was the dinghy. Cash, you take the dinghy,
will you, and go and get that piece of ice that
Evans has left for us on the head of the wharf."
They were very punctilious as to terms on board
the Chingachgook."
Rodman had discovered with wonderment the
girl sitting in his yacht. He directed his boat
toward the forward part of the sloop, presently
drawing in his oar and walking to the bow, and
then, with the painter in his hand, he stepped
easily to the vessel's deck. He was not in the
best of humor. He had just come from an inter-
view with the judges, and things had not gone to
his mind.
Tony Boardman is bound to have everything
his own way, or else he 'wont run'," he said,
savagely. "But just let him wait until we get
started Somebody else will have something to
say then, he '11 find." Then he lowered his voice,
motioning with his head in the direction of the
young lady. Who in Honduras is that, Cash?"
Cash raised his eyes an instant to those of his
commander; but at once they fell again, wander-
ing off sidewise toward the subject mentioned.
I don't know," he answered, defensively.
"She did n't hoist any signal when she came up."
(Cassius always spoke the language of the yachting
service.) "She came aboard, and sat herself down
there without a word."
"What!" Rodman scowled and looked aft
again. The young lady was sitting there as calmly
as ever, industriously drawing her needle in and
out. "Why did you let her ?"







THE LADY OF THE


"How could I help it?" returned Cassius,
drearily.
"Why did n't you ask her what she wanted? "
Cassius made no reply to this, and Rodman,
after a moment, turned with a contemptuous
" Umph! and strode away aft. He would see
what was the meaning of this. He slackened his
pace a little, necessarily, as he passed along beside
the sloop's cabin and stepped over the wash-board.
The stranger looked up at him.
Good-morning," said she, exactly as she had
said it to Cassius, as sweetly and with the same
audacious light in her eyes.
But Rodman was not afraid of her eyes. He
had seen girls before. He lifted his cap stiffly.
" Was there anything that you wanted? inquired
he, his tone and manner politely hostile.
"Oh, no, indeed; thank you." Her attitude
quite bore out her words. She went on with her
work, evidently entirely satisfied with things as
they were and in want of nothing in the world.
"I beg your pardon, Miss," said Rodman,
grimly; "but we are going to get under way now
for the race, and it will be necessary for you to -
to-- He hesitated an instant, casting about
for some not too offensive phrase in which to order
her ashore.
She quickly took it upon herself to finish his
sentence for him.
"And you want me to move, do you? Why,
certainly. I ought to have known better than to
plant myself right here in the way." She go up
and moved across to the corner, close by the cabin.
And then, even while Rodman's lips were set
again to say his say, she ran glibly on. "You
want to ship the tiller, I suppose. Is n't that what
you call it-the tiller? She pointed with her
needle to the article named, as it lay on the seat.
"Oh, I am quite a sailor, I assure you. I don't
mean to make any trouble or get in the way. In-
deed, I do not "
I beg your pardon," Rodman began again.
It was impossible to be rude or harsh in the face
of such persistent sweetness and innocence as
this. I think you must have made some mis-
take. You "
Mistake She dropped her work into her
lap. "What-about the tiller? Then it is ni't
the tiller at all? She seemed deeply mortified.
Is it-is it the gaff, then ?" she asked eagerly,
after a moment.
This was so funny that Rodman forgot his dig-
nity and laughed aloud. Whereupon she exhib-
ited such extreme distress that he felt himself in
the wrong, and begged her pardon once more.
Then he hastened to harden himself again.
I meant mistaken about the boat," he explained.


"CHINGACHGOOK." 775


Oh, mistaken about the boat She compla-
cently resumed her work, receiving this as though
it were an apology, and seeming to consider it an
ample one. Then, again, without giving him a
chance to speak, she hurried on, telling him how
fond she was of sailing, and how she should like
to know all about a boat, and the names of all the
spars and ropes. It did not seem to have occurred
to her that she was where she was not wanted
and where she had no business to be. She ap-
peared entirely at home and at her ease. Rod-
man stared at her as she talked, and his wonder
grew. What did it all mean? Who was she,
any way, and what did she want? -or what did
she think she wanted ? Could n't she be made to
understand that she must go ashore ? He resolved
upon another effort.
"Do you know, Miss, what boat this is?" he
was able, by and by, very solemnly to inquire.
What boat She raised her eyes in pretty
wonder. "Why, to be sure! It is the Chin-
gachgook,' is n't it? I'm sure there is n't any
danger of mistaking her. There is n't another
boat in the harbor like her. I think she is just
splendid And Chingachgook is the very
name for her, too. I suppose she is named after
that old Indian chief-the 'Last of the Mohi-
cans.' Or was he the last but one? Do you
know, I just adore Cooper It is n't very often
you find a girl who does, but I do. I think his
novels are about as fascinating as any I ever read
-even more interesting than Sir Walter Scott's.
And those-those 'Leather Stocking' stories I
like best of all. Don't you think they are the
best?" She looked up anxiously with her ques-
tion, as if his opinion on the subject was the most
important matter in the world to her.
Rodman groaned inwardly. What was the use
of trying to make a girl like this comprehend that
she was where she was n't wanted and could not
possibly be allowed to remain. He uttered a sort
of grunt, worthy of the immortal Chingachgook
himself, and turned savagely away, picking up the
tiller and fitting it into the rudder-head.
All at once the report of a cannon was heard,
apparently from on board a small boat that had,
a few minutes before, gone out and posted itself a
short distance down the stream, and from which,
as they looked up now, a cloud of smoke was
lightly floating off. The visitor uttered a little cry
of dismay, and anxiously inquired:
Oh what was that ? "
It was the first gun," said Rodman, crossly.
They '11 fire another in just fifteen minutes from
now, and we must cross the line before that, for
all the time it takes us after that will be deducted
from our time in the race." He explained this in







776 THE LADY OF THE

the hope that, when she understood that the start
was at hand, she herself would say something
about going ashore. But she did not.
I hate guns !" she declared instead. It
always makes me nervous to hear them. I feel as
if I should fly this moment!"
I 'm sorry I have n't a pair of wings for you,"
observed Rodman, sincerely. Then he raised his
voice and called out to Cassius. This was getting
to be a serious matter. "Everything all ready,
Cash? "
"Ay, ay. All ready."
Have you fastened the dinghy to the mooring?
We can't take her with us. We don't want a sin-


"CHINGACHGOOK.


thousand dollars. Itis the worst piece of luck! What
did you let her come on board for, any way ? "
Did you tell her she must go ashore ?" asked
Cassius.
Tell her Rodman almost choked with ex-
asperation. "Tell her! Perhaps you think it
is an easy thing to do. Very well you go aft
yourself, and say to her that she must go
ashore. Come, now--go on, and see how you
like it."
Cassius looked blank. I would n't do it," said
he, "not if you'd give me a brand-new hundred-
ton steam yacht, fitted and furnished throughout."
Look here exclaimed Rodman, with sudden


_ f/- - C--_=


- --- --- 1.1
._-- _-- ._ __ ',


,sh rhwo: l-, -i r, i-i h

Saoriginal grunt, and wen














"Cash, this will never 1
watch. We've got jus..



n't going."
Rodman glanced at
the girl again. Surely
she would understand th
not even to have heard i
pied her entire attention
aboriginal grunt, and wen
Cash, this will never
watch. "We've got jus
How are we going to gel
can't take her with us ; th


'K- ', I i D,, -




RODMAN STOOD AT THE HELM, AND THE UNKNOWN, UNEXPLAINED, AND UNWELCOME YOUNG LADY
STILL SAT QUIETLY BY HERSELF. [SEE PAGE 778.]

is. Alas! she seemed sternness. This idea of sending Cash aft had sud-
t. A timely snarl occu- denly acquired value in his eyes. Are n't you the
He uttered another crew of this sloop ? "
t forward himself. Crew? Of course, I am !" Cash was far from
do!" He looked at his being disposed to deny the fact.
t about twelve minutes. "And did n't you agree to obey orders when I
t rid of that girl? We shipped you instead of Walt Hubbard?"
at is out of the question. Don't I obey orders, I'd like to know ? de-


I would n't have the
'
Thoughtless beat me for a handed Cassius, with spirit. Certainly, he did


[AUGUST,







THE LADY OF THE


obey orders. The commands of his superior officer
were sacred to him.
Well, then, why don't you do as I order you ? "
"Order me! What did you order me ? "
I ordered you to go and tell that girl we should
have to set her ashore," said Rodman, inflexibly.
Cash actually turned pale. Oh, if you put it
that way," said he.-"I did n't know it was an
order."
Well, you know now "
Rodman was obliged to be a little brutal. He
knew that this was not a fair thing, and his con-
science smote him.
Of course, I '11 obey orders," said Cassius
hoarsely, unconsciously buttoning up his coat and
even turning up his collar, exactly as though he
were going out into a storm. "What shall I tell
her?
"Tell her? Tell her that we don't want her
here--we 've no use for her. Tell her we 're going
to sail for Europe, and wont be back till the year
nineteen hundred. Tell her it 's against the rules
for a boat to carry women in a race. Tell her what
you please, only get rid of her. And be quick about
it, too Every boat that's entered except this one
is leaving her moorings this minute."
So poor Cassius set his teeth together, and
turned away with the air of one who has said
good-bye forever. To him there was only one
thing in the world worse than facing a young lady
under such circumstances; but that one thing was
disobedience of orders. He made his way slowly
aft, and at length planted his sturdy figure before
the stranger, cap in hand, and addressed her in a
voice husky and quavering:
Madame-Miss-the Captain has sent me to
tell you that-to say to you that-ahem !-to--
to call your attention to the rule on the subject of
Crews-Rule Ninth of the Sailing Regulations:
'Yachts contending for prizes may carry one man
for every five feet of length on deck and fractional
part thereof.'" His voice gained something of
firmness as he recited the rule. It was hardly
likely that she would make light of the sailing
regulations.
Her eyes were fixed upon him all the while,
though he felt rather than saw them. "Is that
one of your sailing rules, do you say?" she asked,
as he finished. "How interesting! And how many
men do you carry on board the Chingachgook' ?"
She laughed merrily. You are the crew here,
are you not? Do you consider yourself equal to
as many men as the boat is feet long divided by
five ?"
Cassius blushed so fiercely that the red showed
plainly through the coat of tan upon his face. He
felt himself to be utterly helpless in the hands of


"CI-IINGACHGOOK." 777


this young lady, as he had known he should be.
Nevertheless, there were the Captain's orders and
the regulations.
"We are allowed to carry less than the rule
mentions," he forced himself to say, "but we can
not carry more." And then, with sudden despera-
tion, he added, "And we consider you more."
She laughed outright at this-a peal of musical,
girlish laughter, delicious in itself, but to Cassius,
at this moment, very dreadful indeed. "More?"
she exclaimed. "Well, I should think so! I
should consider myself equal to all the men you
could get on board, upstairs and down-stairs, and
all over the deck. More, indeed !" She laughed
again, and then sat waiting for what he might
have further to say, but still never taking her eyes
from his face. His own glance went round and
round and all about her, until it again fell at her
feet. He knew very well what would sooner or
later surely happen. She would drive him away
with her eyes, and he would go back defeated and
demoralized, without having accomplished at all
what he had come for. The thought nerved him
to a final effort.
"But-but-" he stammered, "the rule doesn't
say a single word-you can see it for yourself-
about women being allowed on board."
She raised her eyebrows. "Well, and what of
it, pray ? she inquired, with painful directness.
Sure enough. What of it? He stood a moment,
and, as clearly as he could, reflected. He had
thought that the rule covered the whole case and
would be quite convincing and sufficient. And now
she asked him, What of it? And all at once he
seemed to become aware that there was nothing
"of it." He did not see, himself, now, that the
rule applied at all. He was utterly confounded
and unable to answer.
Had n't you better go and ask the Captain? "
she suggested, maliciously.
"I-I- Perhaps I had," he murmured. For
his life, he could not have said anything else; and
he felt that he must get away. The next moment
he was going to the Captain with his report.
But Rodman did not wish for any report. He
had watched the interview throughout and under-
stood it.
I don't want to hear a single word," cried he.
"There is n't time to set her ashore now, any
way. We've only four minutes more before the
second gun. Let her stay, if she's bound to. I'll
give her enough of it before we are through,. see if
I don't! Here, take hold of this mooring. I've
made the dinghy fast to it already. Wait until I
get aft, and then give her a sheer. As for that girl,
we wont say another word to her the whole trip.
We.'11 ignore her."







778 THE LADY OF THE

So saying, Rodman went back to the helm;
Cash gave a pull at the mooring, and, then drop-
ping it, held the jib to windward; and the Chin-
gachgook," catching the wind all in an instant,
suddenly gathered way and darted off.
The race about to begin was not a regular regatta
of the Seaconnet Yacht Club (which was an organi-
zation having to do with the whole bay), but a
much less important and less formal affair, in which
the contestants were only from among the smaller
craft of the club. The prizes were sums of money,
the first of twenty-five, and the second of fifteen
dollars. There had been six entries, two of which
were sloops. The Chingachgook," as has been
stated, was the last of the six to get under way. All
six were now standing to and fro across the river,
none having yet crossed the line, although it was
almost time for the second signal. This "line" was
an imaginary one, drawn from the judges' boat
across the river to a house on the opposite shore.
The start was to be a "flying one. The boats were
at liberty to cross the line and start in the race at
any time after the first signal, their time being
taken as they made the crossing. A boat crossing
after the second signal, however, would have her
time taken from the time of that signal. The
object of each boat was to cross the line as late as
possible within the limits of the two signals, the
boat crossing last (within those limits) having all
the other boats in front of her as to position but
behind her as to time.
Two minutes before the second signal, the first
boat-one of the cat-boats -crossed the line, the
fact being announced from the judges' boat by a
blast from afog-horn. She was almost immediately
followed by two others of the smaller boats. Thirty
seconds after this the "Thoughtless" also went
over. The "Thoughtless" was the other sloop,
and the only boat of the five which might be con-
sidered a rival of the Chingachgook." She had
found herself in good position, and her captain,
Tony Boardman, had not dared tack again, so
near the final signal. Rodman, on board the
" Chingachgook," shouted with glee when he saw
this. The next instant, he came about himself
and started for the line, the "Chingachgook"
and the remaining cat-boat crossing together, and
so near the final moment that the sound of the
horn was lost in the report of the second gun.
Then, at 11.15 o'clock, with a fresh breeze from the
southward and all the boats close-hauled, the race
was fairly begun.
Meanwhile, on board the "Chingachgook,"
nothing worthy of special mention had taken
place. Rodman stood at the helm, Cash kept
his place forward, and the unknown, unexplained,
and unwelcome young lady still sat quietly by her-


.


"CHINGACHGOOK." [AUGUST,


self, holding her fancy work, although watching all
the while with lively interest the opening of the
race. Almost nothing had been said-nothing
at all that involved, on the part of the two lads,
any further recognition of the young lady's pres-
ence. Rodman's policy of ignoring her had been
faithfully adhered to, although the girl herself did
not seem to mind it.
Off Polygon Point the boats all eased off a bit,
heading now, by a course hardly south of west,
toward the northernmost point of Blowaway isl-
and. At this time the Chingachgook," having
already left behind one of the cat-boats, was rap-
idly overhauling the other three. The "Thought-
less," however, with her minute's start, seemed to
have kept easily the advance this had given her,
and even, to Rodman's anxious eyes, to have
slightly increased it. The latter called out to
Cassius :
Cash, I do believe she's gaining on us! How
is it?"
But Cassius, crouched down in front of the
mast, shook his head very positively as he looked
out ahead, and replied:
Not a bit of it She did gain on us, of course,
after she slacked her sheet, when we were still run-
ning close. But we shall make that up quick
enough. I 'll venture my head against a played-
out croquet-ball" (Cassius was always very reckless
about venturing his head) that we '11 pass her
this side the Spindle. Hallo there on board
the 'Warbler'!" (this to one of the cat-boats
whose stern at this moment was only a short dis-
tance from where he sat)-" get out of the track,
will you? We don't want to go around you."
Then he added, contemptuously, to himself:
"'Warbler,' indeed! 'Wobbler' I should spell
it. Sam Peckham handles that boat as if she
were a bicycle and he was taking his first riding
lesson."
They held on so for twenty minutes and then
hauled their wind again,-the "Thoughtless" first,
and then a minute later the Chingachgook,"-
turning south once more with a distance of four
miles, dead to windward, to make before round-
ing the Spindle. It was now a clear contest be-
tween the two sloops. The other boats were all
behind them, and would soon be left to have it out
among themselves.
"Now, says I!" Rodman exclaimed, dropping
the tiller long enough to rub his hands together,
now we 've got it all to ourselves. And if the
'Chingachgook' can't beat the 'Thoughtless'
sailing into the wind's eye, then I'll eat her "
"Pray let me go on shore first-before you
eat her," spoke up the girl-passenger, precisely as
though he had addressed himself to her.







THE IADY OF THE "CHINGACHGOOK."


Rodman looked at her. He had not intended
to speak to her, but her eyes were full upon him
again, and he could not very well help it.
"It's too late to go on shore now," he said,
frigidly.
"Then I suppose that if you should decide to
eat the Chingachgook,' I should have to stay on
board and be devoured also ? She smiled as she
said it.
Rodman thought to himself that she looked
pretty enough to be devoured, and his heart soft-
ened toward her. He could not forbear smiling
himself as he replied, I don't believe I shall have
to eat the sloop this trip. I mean to win the race
instead-in spite of all drawbacks." The draw-
back which he especially had in mind was the
young lady herself.
The wind was blowing fresher out here beyond
the island; and, with her sheet hauled down, the
" Chingachgook" bent over before it, thrusting
her head into a big wakerr" now and then, and,
as she rose and shook herself, flinging a shower
of silver spray along her deck. By and by, there
came a plunge of unusual violence, and a sheet of
salt water flew aft into the very face and eyes of
the unwelcome passenger. Possibly a sudden twist
of the helm had had something to do with this,
although, at the moment, Rodman was, to all
appearances, entirely absorbed in the race. The
girl uttered a little cry.
"Oh, Mr. Rodman! Oh! Oh! Why, this is
dreadful! "
Ah said Rodman, coolly. "Did it wet you ?
I 'm very sorry, but such things can't be avoided.
Besides," he grimly added, that was n't a cir-
cumstance to what we shall have presently. Wait
till we get down off the south end of Blowaway. It
will blow great guns by that time."
Oh, dear! she cried, in dismay. Will it,
truly?" She examined his face to be sure he was
sincere, and then added, cheerfully, At any rate, I
can go below if it gets very bad."
Yes," said Rodman, only you '11 be sea-sick.
People always are if they go below."
Shall I, really ? she again inquired. Oh,
dear, dear! "
I thought you said you were quite a sailor? "
said Rodman.
"Well, I don't care so much for myself. But I
don't want to get my griffins all wet." She glanced
ruefully at her worsted work. This is for a gen-
tleman's ti.: .-! .-. bag, and the salt water will
ruin it."
I don't know that it would make your griffins
sick to put them below," suggested Rodman.
"I believe I will put them down there, if I
may," she answered, gratefully.


She made her way as well as she could- Rod-
man expressing his regret that he could not leave
the helm to help her down the companion-way.
When she came up again, she declared herself de-
lighted with the sloop's cabin, characterizing it as
a perfect love of a place," and being sure that
the young gentlemen who sailed the Chingach-
gook" must have "right jolly times" when off upon
their cruises. This was a subject by no means dis-
agreeable to Rodman, and he found himself talk-
ing away presently in a style that fairly matched
the volubility of the young lady herself. Mean-
while, he still puzzled himself over the problem
of her presence. He was unable, upon reflection,
to see how she could in any way be the victim of a
mistake. She seemed to have known what boat
she was in; and just now she had spoken his own
name-though possibly Cash had called him by
that in her hearing. Beside, there was all the
time a laughing, mischievous light in her eyes, as
though, all to herself, she was enjoying the situa-
tion as a successful joke of her own invention.
Well, if it was a joke, it was not a very bad one.
He was rather enjoying it himself; and it was not
seriously interfering with the race, either. It was
certain now that the Chingachgook was gaining
on the Thoughtless," and there was every reason
to believe that they would round the Spindle to-
gether.
And round the Spindle together they did--so
close together that Rodman, taking necessarily the
outer track, but anxious to go no farther away than
he must, narrowly escaped driving the Thought-
less" against the rocks, and thus forfeiting the
" Chingachgook's chance for the prize. Then it
was ready about" again, and off they flew, with
the wind abeam, the two boats, each with its black
hull and glistening canvas, a thing beautiful to
see, holding their way side by side, and with seem-
ingly equal speed, toward the south end of Blow-
away.
For some minutes the excitement was intense
on board both the boats. But at such times it
is not excitement or anxiety or one's wishes that
avail, but skill and the qualities of one's craft;
and it was the gallant Chingachgook that, after
a little, was perceived to be slowly but certainly
drawing ahead. Cassius Thorne, from his post
before the mast, was the first to discover the fact;
and, regardless of propriety, he snatched off his
cap and cheered like the whole ship's crew that he
was. Then Captain Rodman patted the tiller-
head and began talking to his sloop as if she were
a live thing to be praised and encouraged; and
the little lady near him, with a sigh of relief as she,
too, realized the tremendous fact, fairly stood on
tiptoe and clapped her hands in glee.


1883.


779







780 THE LADY OF THE "CHINGACHGOOK." .


Thus minute after minute went by, and foot
after foot the "Thoughtless" dropped astern,
until, half an hour later, as the homeward track
up the east side of Blowaway came fully into view
on board the Chingachgook," her rival was well
nigh half a mile to the rear. Then it was up with
the center-board altogether, and give her all the
sheet she wants both fore and aft, and away, away,
straight for home, and with that suddenly quieter
and easier motion that always follows the putting
of a boat before the wind.
"Why!" cried the young lady, "how slowly we
are going all at once "
"Humph returned Rodman, seating himself
now for the first time, she 's going about three
times as fast as she was before."
"Now the race is surely ours !" said the young
lady, looking up to him in triumph.
Rodman smiled. That word "ours," and the
way it was spoken, were irresistible. She seemed


glance, falling from these, wandered off toward
the plunging bow. Suddenly he turned pale and
uttered a cry.
"Oh! Oh! Look there! Oh! wh/athallwe do?"
Just how it happened-or could happen, as
things were-they never knew. But Rodman,
looking forward, had seen the block of the jib,
loosened somehow and lashed about violently by
the wind, strike Cassius a cruel blow upon the
head, knocking him senseless into the sea. This
he saw, and realized instantly the full extent of
the calamity. With no boat on board, his friend
unconscious, and only this thoughtless girl on deck
if he should trust himself to the water, what could
be done? No wonder he cried out in helpless
agony. Even as he spoke they caught sight,
over the side as the sloop rushed on, of a white,
upturned face, half-submerged and drifting quickly
astern.
But Rodman was not the lad to stand and do


THE START.


to assume her right to a due share of the glory.
And, indeed, Rodman was hardly disposed, now,
to deny the claim. Somehow or other she no
longer seemed to have no business on board the
" Chingachgook." He was beginning to feel as
though she belonged there along with himself and


nothing. God helps those who help themselves.
In an instant he had let go the helm, and, hand
over hand, was pulling in the sheet like mad.
The sloop swept swiftly round in a great curve;
and the girl, standing dazed and horrified, knew
that her companion was talking to her in fierce,


Cash. excited tones.
Yes," he said, complacently. "I think there "Listen to me! he cried. "Listen to every
is no doubt about it now. The race is ours. word! I am going overboard. I must. There
Hurrah for the Chingachgook'! She is a brick is nothing else. It may defend upon you whether
-of the first water." both of us drown or not! He paused a moment,
Rodman glanced proudly up at the white sails seizing the helm again and holding the sheet in
and the straight mast above him; and then his his hand, looking anxiously ahead to know how to


yQ.


[AUGUST,







THE LADY OF THE "CHINGACHGOOK.


steer. "Ah there he is. Listen! You manage
her by the sheet, this rope here, and the tiller.
If she gets away from you, you can drop the sheet
and bring her up into the wind-as I shall do now.
I tell you this so that you can do it, if you should
have to. Perhaps you will not have to do any-
thing. Do you understand?"
She nodded mutely.
He did not say another word. Indeed, there
was no time to say more. There was poor Cash
out there in the water, unable to help himself, and
he might sink out of sight at any moment. Rod-
man tore off his jacket and threw his cap down
upon the deck. Then all at once he put his helm
hard down, the Chingachgook" came up into
the wind and stood there, shivering fore and aft,
and the next instant Rodman plunged headlong
from the rail.
He came up at once and struck out bravely
toward his friend. And from on board the sloop
the girl watched him helplessly. There was nothing
for iher to do but to watch-to stand there and
watch and wring her hands. She looked at him
as he swam away; she looked anxiously back along
their track to see if the "Thoughtless" had yet
appeared around the island; she looked up at the
sails of the Chingachgook," and, with almost a
sob of agony, she realized that the sloop was drift-
ing fast to leeward and that the distance between
her and the boys in the water was rapidly widening.
Oh, was there nothing she could do in this terrible
emergency?
Then she saw that Rodman had reached his
friend-the latter, poor fellow, still senseless as a
log. Rodman grasped him firmly by the shoulder,
and turned toward the sloop. The moment he
saw her he uttered a groan. He knew that he
could never reach her with all that space between,
and she all the while drifting farther and farther
away. He called out hoarsely to the girl:
Take hold of the sheet and push the helm over
-from you.- Push it hard and quick.- She'll
get way on herself, if you only give her half a
chance."
She heard and comprehended. She seized the
sheet with both hands and then with her body she
pushed the helm to port. Few boats could have
been made to catch the wind in such a way, but the
Chingachgook" did it. Rodman had not trusted
her in vain. Perhaps she realized something of her
master's fearful need, and, swift to save as ever had
been her noble namesake in the old-time wars, of
her own effort she turned her canvas to the breeze.
The girl, sheet and tiller in hand, felt in them
both the impulse that seized the gallant sloop.
Slowly the bow fell off, the mainsail filled, and
the "Chingachgook" began to move ahead.


She who was at the helm remembered what
Rodman had said to her. You manage her with
the sheet and tiller." She slacked the sheet a
little as she felt it draw the harder; and then she
met it with the helm as the sensitive boat sprang
forward. Hurrah! Hurrah! She heard Rodman
shouting to her: Don't let go the sheet Steer
her straight this way." In half a minute's time
she was close upon them. Rodman shouted again:
"Carefully! Don't run us down! Keep her off
a bit. Now! Let go the sheet and push the
helm this way. Over with it. Good for you All
right! All right! Now let her alone and go for-
ward and fling us a rope-that coil of halyards
that hangs on the pin by the shrouds."
The rest of it was easy. The Chingachgook "
was shaking in the wind again and Rodman had
swum up under the side. Then the rope that she
threw down to him was knotted about Cassius's
body, beneath the arms; and Rodman, first climb-
ing on board himself, quickly drew his unfortunate
comrade up after him.
They laid him on the deck, and, by rubbing
his hands and using some restoratives which Rod-
man had at hand, presently revived him. He
opened his eyes, and, looking languidly from one
of his attendants to the other, seemed at once to
comprehend the situation.
"I'm glad you picked me up," were his first
words.
Rodman burst out laughing, overjoyed to see his
friend revive. "Well, old fellow, I should think
you might be he exclaimed. "Did you suppose
we would leave you there "
"Because," continued Cassius, gravely, "you
know there is Section Four of Rule Twelve: 'Each
yacht must bring back all and the same persons
with whom it started.' If you had n't picked me
up, you would have lost the race." Suddenly
he raised himself upon his elbow and looked
out forward. "Where is the 'Thoughtless,' any
way? "
Never mind the Thoughtless,'" said Rodman.
You just keep quiet."
But Cash had caught sight of the other sloop,
not an eighth of a mile away, and coming on like
the wind itself. Why, Rod," he cried, she is
almost up with us We must get the Chingach-
gook' before the wind. Come, what are we think-
ing of, loafing here in this way ? "
He tried to get upon his feet, but a dizziness
seized him, and he sank back against the rail.
Then the young lady spoke. "You sit still,
right where you are," said she with an air of au-
thority. "I'll tend the jib." Then she turned
to Rodman. Mr. Rodman, I really don't think
there is any necessity of our losing the race. You






THE LADY OF THE "CHINGACHGOOK."


know I am quite a sailor." She spoke almost gayly,
although she was still pale and trembling.
Quite a sailor! exclaimed Rodman. I should
think you were Where would Cash and I be this
minute but for the way you handled the 'Chin-
gachgook'?" He jumped up. "But we'll pass
you a vote of thanks later," said he, "when we
have more time. Cash can sit here,-he '11 be all
right presently,- and you and I will sail the sloop.
We must beat the 'Thoughtless.' You go forward,
please, and I'11 tell you what to do."

And they did beat the Thoughtless." The
Chingachgook was got before the wind again
just as her rival came up, and for some minutes
it was a close race. Then the "Chingachgook"
slowly drew ahead again, and, gradually increasing
her lead, crossed the line half an hour later, winner
of the first prize, and in advance of her chief an-
tagonist by two minutes of actual time. It was a
proud moment for her owner as he presently stood
over to his mooring place, while the people, men
and women, who crowded the wharves, shouted and
cheered and waved their hats and handkerchiefs.
A little later the Captain's gig was brought
around, and Rodman helped the young lady on
board. Cassius, with his face still very white, and
a linen handkerchief bound about his head in place
of his regulation cap, looked hardly fit for duty;
but he insisted upon taking his place at the oars.
They pulled ashore and went up the steps at the
wharf. The first people Rodman saw were his
mother and sisters. Millie, the eldest sister,
stepped forward excitedly; but, to Rodman's sur-
prise, it was not to him she addressed herself, but
to his lady companion.
"Why, Edith Hasbrouck! I never thought you
would really do it."
Rodman exhibited considerable surprise. So
this was their cousin, Edith Hasbrouck. He had
often heard of her, but had never seen her before.
She had always lived with her parents in the
West, until she had joined Millie at an Eastern
boarding-school a few months before the day of this
adventure. 'It had been settled that Edith should
visit Millie during the summer vacation, and she
had unexpectedly arrived that very morning while
Rodman was absent preparing for the race.
Now that he knew who his lady passenger was,
he turned and looked at her. She was doing
something that he had not seen her do before-
she was blushing and looking confused.


I thought you did n't take any passengers in
a race," continued Millie, turning to Rodman;
" at least, no lady passengers ? "
I don't," said Rodman, laughing, "when I
can help myself. But it was lucky I did take one
this morning." He grew suddenly sober. I tell
you what, if it had n't been for Miss-Cousin
Edith,-Cash and I would both have- Well,
to-day's sail would have been our last, that's all."
Then Edith spoke. She was very sober, too,
and her voice not quite steady. A girl does not
go through so terrible an ordeal as that through
which she had passed without some signs of it.
"I want to beg your pardon for that whole
matter, Rodman. I did a very foolish thing, and
I am ashamed of it I would not do it now, I am
sure."
Rodman looked from her to his sister, with a
perplexed expression.
Don't you understand, sir?" cried Millie. I
dared her to do it- and she never takes a dare. I
said you would n't let anybody go down with you,
and she declared you would let her go."
Oh! murmured Rodman, thoughtfully, slowly
comprehending. Then he suddenly gave vent to a
burst of admiration. "Well, all I have to say is
that she did it /
"Beautifully Well, now, I should say so!"
This came very unexpectedly from Cassius Thorne.
Cassius had been standing on one side, feeling
that he ought in some way formally to acknowl-
edge his obligation to this young lady who had
helped to save his life, but utterly unable to bring
himself to do it. But now he braced himself
heroically and advanced toward her with extended
hand. He looked very funny with his tied-up head
and his solemn air; but nobody thought of laugh-
ing at him then, poor fellow.
And I want to thank her for it, too," he went
on, resolutely. "If it had n't been for her, Rod
and I would have gone down, as sure as shoe-strings
-a dead loss to the underwriters. For my part, I
am much obliged to her, and I wish she would sail
in the 'Chingachgook,' hereafter, every race she
enters. If the rules don't allow it,-then so much
the worse for the rules, I say."
He made Miss Edith a regulation bow as he
finished. And, venturing to meet again those ter-
rible eyes of hers, he saw in them now something
that flashed and glistened and quite overcame him;
but it certainly was not the mocking, ridiculing
light that had overcome him before.


782


[AUGUST,







IN SUMMER-flME.





IN SUMMER-TIME.


By BESSIE HILL.


I, i I, I 1 I 11 r .


F.. tII ..


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-mai W7






WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.


WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK. VIII.

FLY-FISHING FOR BLACK BASS.

By MAURICE THOMPSON.


ONE exciting and healthful sport has been ex-
clusively enjoyed by grown-up men; but I think
that boys and girls could enjoy it as well. I speak
of fly-fishing, by which is not meant fishing for
flies, -a thing not to be classed with good sports,-
but angling for fish with artificial flies, a means of
out-door recreation that has been enjoyed by many
great and good men for hundreds of years. Of
course, you must not understand me to mean that
any good man ever fished hundreds of years,
though Izaak Walton, the most famous of all ang-
lers, was nearly a century old when he died, and
he spent much of his long, happy life beside the
brooks and rivers, in pursuit of his favorite pastime.
He wrote a book called "The Complete Angler,"
which, although now more than two hundred years
old, is still read and admired by all who enjoy
quaint conceits and happy descriptions of out-door
things. George Washington and Daniel Webster,
as well as many another of our distinguished men,
were very fond of angling.
Now most boys know perfectly well how to fish
with rod and line, and I have seen some girls who
were quite expert at catching shiners and sun-
perch in the small streams of the Middle and
Southern States. But when it comes to fly-fishing,
the genuine angling, boys and girls seem to know
almost nothing about it. I have often thought of
this and wondered at it, for there is no sport more
fascinating, more healthful, or more easily attain-
able.
Fishing-tackle for angling with the fly is very
simple and beautiful, and can be bought of any
dealer in sportsmen's goods. A fly-rod, a click-
reel, and some twenty or thirty yards of fishing-
line are the first things to purchase. With these
in hand, you are ready to learn how to "cast," a
thing you must pretty thoroughly master before
you think of going to a brook for trout or black
bass.
Your fly-rod will usually be made of three pieces,
with socket joints, so as to be taken apart when
not in use. These three pieces are called the
butt, the middle-piece, and the tip. The click-reel
is to be fastened on the under side of the butt, at
the larger extremity, just below the place where the
hand must grasp the rod when using it. The line-
a slender silk or linen one-is evenly wound upon
the reel, with an end free to pass through small


brass loops or eyes on the under side of the rod to
the extremity of the tip, where it goes through a
little ring, whence it may be drawn out as long as
you like, or until it is all unwound from the reel.
Now let us try to cast the line. To do this, as
a mere matter of preliminary practice, tie a small
weight, say a little block of wood, an inch long and
as thick as your little finger, to the free end of your
line, which has been drawn out through the tip-
ring some eight or nine feet. Now, standing firmly
erect in an easy position, take the rod in the right
hand, grasping it by the handle just above the
reel; with the thumb and forefinger of the left
hand take light hold of the bit of wood at the line's
end. You are now ready for a cast. The rod is
nearly vertical and the line is drawn taut. By a
motion gradually increasing in rapidity, wave the
rod backward over the left shoulder, at the same
time loosing the bit of wood and allowing the line
to swing straight out behind you. Then, before
the wood can touch the ground in your rear, wave
the rod, by a .;:, ,i ,ii. quickening motion and
with a slight curve to the right, forward so as to
whip the line to the full length that is unwound,
straight out before you, allowing the block, which at
present is your fly, to settle lightly on the ground.
Now, to cast again, wind off, by turning the reel, a
foot more of line, and then, by a gentle sweep of
the rod upward and backward, fling the line full
length straight behind you, and before it can fall
to the ground throw it forward again as in the first
cast. Try this over and over, until you get so that
you can fling out twelve feet of line every time and
make your bit of wood go to just the spot you aim
at. This accomplished, you are ready to begin
practice on water with a fly. You must now "rig
your cast," as anglers say; that is, you must loop
six feet of heavy "silk-gut," called a stretcher, on
to the end of your line, to which stretcher two flies
must be attached by short pieces of like material,
one at the end of the stretcher and the other two
or three feet from the end. The short line by
which the fly is attached to the stretcher is called
a snell or snood.
Artificial flies are made mostly of feathers, tied
upon a hook in such a way as to somewhat resem-
ble some one or another of the insects that sport
about the streams in summer. Anglers have dis-
coursed at great length on the subject of flies.


784


[AUGUST,








PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.


~ /, '
4 ~


Some 1.1- iE: r .
light-c l:i.r .1 tI H
others i-,r.: Il'. ''
feather :. u.1 ""i"
ibis, gdil. r
ant, p -',:,.. .. -.
pecker. ,ia:l .,.c- .
duck ; il.- r. r'
stillus, fl. r.-f Il, r -
for di t'.: r: r,L t '. ';i. :-
and co!l:ar ..a t!v- s,-- Ir"'
and cotre M. of e --
son ac in-.. -. Thie -
makin ., r, .- i
cial fl r..hi-,....
ally c.,11:,1 "-- i f.
the fl'," .- I -
minutE ad d .:u
an op rlr,...r ri.,a t -r
is bett.- 1... :.,,, iil, .
of the -.1Ial..! r ai
to at-i1. ,_r r.. Li-
them -, .-.u II. !. -
The aigkie usuadl .
carries a supply of
flies in a pocket case
called a fly-book.
The fly attached S 0or RJA
to the end of the
stretcher is called
the tail-fly," and the one attached further up is called the
"dropper," or 'bob-fly."
Now, having rigged your cast," you may go to the near-
est water and practice casting the fly, just as you learned with
the bit of wood.
You will find this exercise rather tiresome to the right arm
at first, but you can soon overcome every difficulty. In the
beginning, you should choose a smooth, open space of water
on which to practice, until you can cast well enough to begin
angling for game.
Girls can use a fly-rod just as well as boys, and they will
find in it a new and delightful means of enjoyment.
VOL. X.-50.


- ---
'Ar,_


~~~


1883.]


WORK AND


- & ,--


-------- ------- ----
--
";


A.


q 1o 11 1







WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.


When you have thoroughly mastered the method
of casting and are ready to go angling, you must
dress yourself for the water, for sometimes you may
have to wade in the shallow parts of the brook.
Girls should wear short dresses and wading
stockings; the latter are made of rubber cloth,
and may be ordered of any dealer in fishing
goods. Over these stockings, which are water-
proof, shoes must be worn, the older and easier
the better. V
Boys, as a rule, will not care for these stockings,
preferring to roll up their trouser-legs and wade
"just so."
Now for the fun !
"But where are any trout brooks?" you in-
quire.
Trout brooks are rather scarce, it is true, but
bass streams are not. The black bass is found in
nearly all the brooks and rivers of a large portion
of the United States, and it is the games and
boldest fish that swims. It will take the fly, if
properly offered, more readily than salmon, trout,
or grayling.
So, girls and boys, let us go a-fishing for black
bass. A good brook or rivulet is close by almost
any country house or town. A short drive or walk
takes us to where we can hear the bubble and mur-
mur, and see the pure water rippling and gleaming
among the shining stones. The big plane-trees,
sometimes called sycamores, lean over the brook's
current, and there is a woodsy fragrance and fresh-
ness in the air. Birds sing overhead and round
about in the thickets.
We walk cautiously along the brook-side until
we find a place where the water is dashing merrily
among big stones and whirling in shining circles,
frothed with clots of snowy foam. This is a
promising place for a cast. Let us try. Give way,
boys, and let one of the girls have the first cast.
Now! See her take the fly in her left hand, lightly
between the thumb and forefinger, her beauti-
ful slender rod held almost vertically in her right
hand. She waves the rod backward over her left
shoulder, at the same time loosing the fly, then
she whips the rod forward with a slight whirl to
the right, and away spins the fly. But it falls
somewhat short. Quickly and deftly she slips a
few feet more of line from the reel, gracefully
whirls the rod backward again, and, as the line
straightens behind her, she casts as before. Again
and again she does this, lengthening the line a
little at each cast, until, at last, the gay fly falls
lightly among the shining waves close by a little
whirlpool. Splash! What a fine fish leaps up!
You see his scales gleam and his fins flash as he
"flips" himself almost bodily above the water and
seizes the fly. And what does my little lady with


[AUGUST,


the rod ? She quickly "strikes "- that is, she gives
a short, sharp jerk with her right hand, and then
the fight begins. The rod is bent like a whip;
whiz goes the click-reel as the strong fish pulls off
yard after yard of the line. Hold him back,
quick Now, as our little girl changes the rod
from her right hand to her left, in order to man-
age the reel, the fish makes a big lunge and.turns
a somersault clear out of the water. The hook
is an extra good one, or it would have broken
under that strain. We all look on with tremulous
excitement as the bass falls back again into the
swirling current and begins to dart this way and
that, making the line sing and whirl. Now our
determined little angler begins to force the fight.
She turns the butt of the rod more forward, thus
raising the tip, and begins to steadily turn the
reel-crank with her right hand. See the slender
rod bend almost double! Hurry, boys,-some
one of you,-get the landing-net and be ready to
dip up the game! As the line is shortened, the
bass is drawn nearer and nearer to the grassy bank.
Theie his prickly dorsal fin cuts the water! Now
get the landing-net under him. Good! he is ours,
and he weighs a full pound and a quarter. That
was a well-managed campaign on the part of our
young lady. Which one of the boys can beat it ?
You may think that it would be a very easy
task to manage a fish weighing no more than a
pound and a half; but when a live and stubborn
bass of that size is at the end of ten or twelve
yards of line, and your rod is as limber as a whip,
the thing is n't so easy after all. I have seen
grown men fail in the undertaking.
One of the most difficult things in fly-fishing is
to get your fly to fall just where you wish it to. It
requires no little skill to be able to cast out twenty
feet of line and make your gaudy insect drop ex-
actly where you aim. Sometimes bass are very
stupid,. or very cunning, or not very hungry, or
lazy, for they will balance themselves in a clear
current, with their heads up-stream, and, no matter
how cleverly you present your fly, not a rise will
they make. At other times, they will take your fly
as fast as you can offer it.
A great many pleasant things come to pass when
you are down by the brook. In fact, a brook
always seems to flow through the very heart of
nature. Most wild things love the cool streams in
summer. The birds go there to bathe; the rac-
coons go there to catch craw-fish and water-snails.
You will see muskrats swimming along with their
noses above the surface, and now and then a mink
may dart into a heap of drift-wood. The beauti-
ful wood-duck and the queer green herons haunt
our bass brooks, and so do the kingfisher and the
small white heron. When you are slipping stealth-


786








WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.


ily along beside the stream, looking for a good place
to cast your fly, you often come upon these wild
things unaware, which gives you an excellent op-
portunity for studying their habits.


One day, some years ago, I was casting in a nar-
row, weedy stream in the South, and was trying to
make my fly fall upon a small pool near the op-
posite bank, when it.went a little too far and set-


tied in a tuft of grass. No sooner had it touched
than something grabbed it savagely, and, when I
reeled in my line, I found that I had caught a
bull-frog !
In fly-fishing for bass, you find the streams more
easily approached than trout brooks, and there is less
in your way when casting. In fact, I can say with con-
fidence to the girls and boys of the ST. NICHOLAS
household, that they could not wish for better sport
than they can get from fly-angling in almost any
of our larger brooks, when once the secret of the
gentle art is discovered by them. It seems strange
that even enthusiastic anglers are just beginning
to find out the great merits of the black bass as a
game fish to be taken with the fly. All these years
men have been making long journeys to Canada
and to northern Michigan for trout and sal-
-_- mon, when the streams that flow through
evcry county of nearly all our States
are teeming with bass gamer than
salmon and more vora-
-cious than trout !
Bass brooks, as a rule,
are shallow, so that there
is little danger of drown-
o ing in them, and you
ecan wade where you
please. Some girls
may think angling is
too much like boys'
sport for them; but if
they will try it once,
some sweet June day,
they will change their
minds. There is a
great deal more fun in
wading a clear, running
brook, than in -ii ;.11
in the surf of the sea; and
then, if you get a big bass,
he gives you excitement that
makes the blood leap in your
veins.
-:
R .-,- Some very good and tender-
hearted people think of angling
as a most cruel and wicked
-- -- sport. I can not decide this
matter for any one but myself.
If you are afraid that killing fish
is wicked, don't angle, for a timid
angler never gets a rise, or, if he does,
he strikes too feebly or too late to get
the game. To succeed at fly-fishing, one must
go at it with a clear conscience and a steady
nerve. Be sure you are right, and then don't
let the fish get away -that is my rule!







COUNTING THEIR CHICKENS.


COUNTING THEIR CHICKENS.

BY M. LOUISE TANNER..


GOOD-BYE shouted John Travis, as the boat
containing his friends obeyed the first stroke of the
oars, and shot off from the sloping white sand.
"Good-bye! replied a chorus of boy voices,
" and many happy returns of the day "
We 've had a delightful time," called out Ned
Grover, the oarsman. Wish you had another
birthday to-morrow. Three cheers for Travis! "
How the welkin rang! And the surrounding
woods took up the loud cheers and reechoed
them to the startled night-birds perched high up
among the tall pines.
Then the little group on the shore, consisting of
Tohn Travis and his two brothers and sister, sent
back a shout of acknowledgment to the little
boat, now far out toward the middle of the lovely
lake, glinting under the rays of the full moon.
A yellow glare from the fire of lightwood knots
and oak grubs," which was burning at a distance,
and which had contributed to the fun of the birth-
day celebration, made the moonlight look green
in contrast, and produced some curious effects of
light and shade. Prue, the sister, was the first to
notice the weird beauty which the newly risen
moon had brought out from the shadows. It's
just like a scene in a fairy story, is n't it ? she
said. "Look under those great live-oaks, where
the moss is hanging so low. It looks like a mys-
terious cave the home of some terrible giant "
"And here he comes now to carry off the beau-
tiful princess," muttered a low, deep voice at her
elbow; and Prue found herself seized and borne
away, but only to a rustic seat under a graceful
china-tree.
"Oh, John! how you frightened me! What
did you do that for ? remonstrated the little prin-
cess, in a tone half-pettish, half-laughing.
Oh, just for fun," he replied. "Don't b2 a
goosey. It is n't nine o'clock yet, and Mother says
we may stay up awhile longer, if we wish, as it
my birthday. I ran up to ask her while you were
mooning. What shall we do ?"
Let's tell stories," said Harry.
Yes," said Prue. You tell it, John -tell us
a fairy story."
Well, let me see," said John, musingly. Then,
in a somewhat serious tone, he began:
Once there were three brothers- "
"Did they come over in the Mayflower' ?" asked
Harry, with a mischievous smile.
"And one sister," continued John, unheeding


the interruption; and they lived in a large city,
where they all went to school every day. But
their father was taken ill, and the doctors said
that he must go to a warm climate, away from
chilling winds. So the family left the northern city,
where they had always lived, and went to a beauti-
ful wild place in Florida, where the sun shone
warm all winter, and you could pick roses out-of-
doors at Christmas and oranges, too, if you had
any trees."
"Why, that's just like ourselves," said Prue.
"It's almost two years now since we came, is n't it ?
But I thought this was to be a fairy story."
"'Children should be seen and not heard,'
Sissy," said Harry, sententiously. "Proceed, Mr.
Speaker; I 'll keep order in the galleries."
"Well," continued John, good-naturedly, "the
three boys and their sister enjoyed the change
very much, at first; especially the one next to the
eldest, who, I am sorry to say, was a little lazy, and
not particularly fond of study."
"That's you, Mr. Harry," piped out Freddie.
"Interruptions are out of order, small boy,"
rejoined Harry, with much dignity.
They lived near a lake," went on the patient
story-teller, and they used to set lines for soft-
shelled turtles, which are very choice eating."
Yum, yum! whispered Harry, in an aside.
And they used to go fishing and catch quanti-
ties of bass. And one of the boys learned to use a
gun, and he used to shoot rabbits and quail and
doves and reed-birds, and sometimes a wild turkey.
Well, all this was great sport, and yet--"
"And yet he was not happy," ejaculated the
irrepressible Harry.
No," responded John, severely. He was
quite unlike his younger brother, who would have
been satisfied to do nothing but fish and hunt all
his life, I am afraid, if the other had not battled
with him continually to make him study, and
keep up with other boys of his age. But one day,
when the elder brother was moping by himself,
and wondering rather sorrowfully if he should ever
be able to do as he wished,- which was, first of all,
to go away to college,-a fairy presented herself
before him, and pointing to a large orange which
had been given him, and which he held in his
hand, she told him to plant the seeds, and wait to
see what would come."
That was Mamma, I know," said Prue. She
told us to plant the seeds of all the fruit we ate.


790


[AUGUST,






COUNTING THEIR CHICKENS.


Mrs. Selden gave me a pomegranate on my birth-
day, and I planted the seeds, and now I have over
twenty little plants. The chickens got in and
scratched up the rest. In three years, I shall have
pomegranates of my own."
Yes, and I have twenty-seven almond trees,
nearly a foot high," chimed in Freddie, rousing
himself from a momentary drowse.
But when you want lemons, gentlemen, just
step over to my grove," said Harry, grandly.
"Lemons! h'm I should think so. Did n't
Mamma give me all the seeds from the lemons she
used in her citron preserves last summer? Why,
I have over a hundred little trees already. I saw
a large tree the other day with two thousand
lemons on it just beginning to turn yellow. Two
thousand times one hundred-two hundred thou-
sand. Two hundred thousand lemons Take
one."
Very good," said John, loftily; "and I have a
thousand young orange trees, half of them nearly
two years old. Next spring, Father says, they can
be grafted with buds from bearing trees of the best
varieties and then set out from the nursery, and my
orange grove is fairly started. In three years from
that time they will begin to bear a little fruit, and
then keep on bearing more and more for years and
years. Let me see : in five years, I shall be twenty
years old. That is too old to begin my college
education. But then there are my fifty-four peach
trees, and my forty-nine plum trees that Father
grafted last spring with choice varieties. They
will bear fruit in two years, any way. Just think
what lots of fruit we shall have in a few years and
all for planting a few little seeds now and then, as
we got the fruit to eat."
"Yes, and then there are all the young trees
started from cuttings," said Harry; "quinces,
Le Conte pears, pomegranates, and figs: beside
all the young grape-vines."
John, you did n't finish your fairy story," said
Prue. "Go on."
"You finish it," answered her brother; "you
have more of a talent for fairy stories than I have."
Prue was looking up at the white moon, and


she did not speak for a minute. A light cloud
drifted across its face, and the children sat in
shadow; but a delicate rim of light appeared in
another instant, and soon the whole fair moon
shone forth again. And Prue wove in her thread
of the story as follows:
The boy obeyed the fairy and planted the orange
seeds. They came up in six weeks, and the boy was
so rejoiced when he saw them that he could talk
of nothing else to his brothers and sister. Then
they planted the seeds of other fruit, and the differ-
ent kinds of f-uit trees all grew and grew and
grew, till by and by the whole hill was covered
with trees, and acres and acres beside. The
eldest brother, who wanted to go to college, had
an orange grove of two thousand trees, and every
tree bore three or four thousand oranges; his next
younger brother had a grove of a thousand lemon
trees, and they bore a hundred thousand lemons,
so he had all the lemonade he wanted the rest of
his life; and the little brother had an almond grove
that bore bushels and bushels of almonds. The
sister had pomegranates and many other kinds of
fruit, and she sold a lot of it every year, and went
to Europe and learned to make beautiful pictures.
And the mother had lots of chickens that laid so
many eggs you could n't count them, and she had
custard-pie for dinner every day. And the father
had sheep and cows and horses and everything he
wanted, so he never was sick any more.
By and by, the sister came home from Europe,
and one day she received a letter from her big
brother, who had just graduated at college, and
was coming home the very next day. So she put
flowers all over the house, and then she went to
meet him in a beautiful carriage, drawn by lovely
black ponies, and "
Come, children, it is ten o'clock called out
the mother. Time for bed. What are you doing
down there ? "
Counting our chickens before they are hatched,"
said Harry.
And they left the still lake shining under the

moon, and went up the long hill to the little log-
house at the top.


1883-.








[AUGusT,


WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK




THE HOME-MADE MOTHER GOOSE.

By ADELIA B. BEARD.


THE collecting of pictured advertisement cards ored worsted, then place the squares neatly together
has become so common among boys and girls dur- and stitch them directly through the center with
ing the last few years that, we doubt not, many strong thread. (Fig. i.) Fold them over, stitch
again, as in Fig. 2, and your book is
finished and ready for the pictures.
It is in the preparation of these pict-
Sures that you will find the novelty of
the plan I propose. Instead of past-
ing in those cards which have become
too familiar to awaken much interest,
let the young book-makers design and
form their own pictures by cutting spe-
cial figures, or parts of figures, from dif-
ferent cards, and then pasting them
FIG. I. FIG. 2. together so as to form new combina-

of our young readers have at the present time tions. Any subject which pleases the fancy can
more than they know what to do with--in fact, so be illustrated in this way, and you will soon be
many that the young connoisseurs are almost deeply interested in the work, and delighted at the


FIG. 3.

weary of looking them over. A great many young
folk paste their cards into scrap-books. While
examining one of these volumes a short time ago,
it occurred to me that the cards might be utilized
in a new way, by dividing and combining them.
Let me, then, try to show you how, with the aid
of scissors and mucilage, the pictures that have
become so familiar may be made to undergo trans-
formations that are indeed wonderful.
The nursery scrap-books made of linen or paper
cambric are, perhaps, familiar to most of my
readers; but for the benefit of those who may not
yet have seen these durable little books, I will give
the following direction's for making one: Cut
from a piece of strong linen, colored paper cam-
bric, or white muslin, four squares, twenty-four
inches long by twelve inches wide. Button-hole-
stitch the edges all around with some bright-col-


FIG. 4.

strange and striking
pictorial characters
that can be pro-
duced by ingenious
combinations.
Stories and little
poems may be very
nicely and aptly il-
lustrated; but the
"Mother Goose
Melodies are, per-
haps, the most suit-
able subjects with
which to interest
younger children, as
they will be easily


, ;!.'

1.





Io. '.



FIG. 5.


_- .
.... . .-....i.
_7aYL~


FIG. 6.


recognized by the little folk. Take, for instance,
the Three Wise Men of Gotham who went to






WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.


sea in a bowl. Will not Figure 4 serve very well as stituting a dress and pair of feet clipped from
an illustration of this subject? Yet these figures another card. The Christmas pie in his lap is
are cut from advertising cards, and no two from from still another picture.
I Had a Little Husband no Bigger
----s---.- -- than My Thumb is represented in the
'tail-piece. The Old Woman who
SLived in a Shoe," as presented here,
will be recognized immediately by all
S'-' --- ,who have ever heard of that wonder-
S Si ful woman, whose family was much too
'r large for her rather limited accommo-
Sdations. She is going through the try-
ing duty of whipping them all sound-
ly," and tucked behind in the shoe may
'be seen the children she has already
"sent to bed." It must be remem-
I bered, in looking at this picture, that
S' *many of the figures were not originally
iw in the positions in which you now see
S. '' them. Babies have been placed in arms
S. ... which, on the cards they were stolen
', '.I from, held only some cakes of soap, per-
S haps, or boxes of blacking; heads have
been ruthlessly torn from the bodies to
which they belonged and as ruthlessly
clapped upon strange shoulders. Some
I. figures have even been forced to sit,
I when the artist had painted them stand-
ing. But you will be surprised to see
I .-.. _- -- what amusing and often excellent illus-
trations present themselves, as the re-
the same card. Fig. 3 shows the materials, Fig. 4 suit of a little ingenuity in clipping and past-
the result of combining them. Again, the little ing; and the book composed in this way not
man dancing so gayly (Fig. 5) is transformed into only affords amusement during the making, but
"Little Jacky Horner" eating his Christmas pie presents, when finished, a unique and original
(Fig. 6) by simply cutting off his legs and sub- addition to the home stock of picture-books.





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


HELLO!


''i









I









FRED a dear lit-te boy He is not yet two years old, but he can say







a great man-y words, and he can do a great man-y fun-ny things. One
day, his mam-ma was talk-ing in the tel-e-phone. Fred want-ed to talk,
-.- '1 ':. i.


S--- ""' .. .
"' ...1 11 1











too, but his mam-ma said, No, Fred-dy, not now. Run a-way." What

nurs-er-y. His mam-ma did not know what he was go-ing to do. Pret-ty
soon he came tod-dling back. He had in his hand his cup and ball. You
will see them in the pict-ure.
What do you think he was go-ing to do with them.? Catch the ball in
the cup ? No. He walked straight up to the wall un-der the tel-e-phone,
and put the cup up to his ear. Then he looked up to Main-ma with a
fun-ny lit-tle smile, and shout-ed Hel-lo !


79:2


[AUGUST,






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.



DAY AND NIGHT.


By M. J.






JACK-IN-THE -PULPIT.


-<-.- ";'- .
.' ,, I -


S", .. _








S-l.--. -.- .* --
,' -'77
-

















out-of-doors,-have they ?
And they 'll not let you in again until the mid-
dle of September ?
Well, that is too bad! Poor dears You have
my deepest sympathy.

OH, DEAR ME!
WHO knows the meaning of this very common
exclamation ? Girls use it more often than boys;
and yet, I once heard even Deacon Green say
it. That was one day when he was stung by a
bumble-bee. After the good man had finished
the little dance that he performed in honor of the
occasion, and the dear Little School-ma'am had
soothed the angry wound with a poultice of wet
clay, she said, Oh, dear me too, but that was
because she saw suddenly a beautiful bird flying
past.
Now, why should the Deacon dear him at the
sting of the bumble-bee, and the Little School-
ma'am dear her at the sight of the bird ?
I'll tell you, my hearers, and when I get
through, you '11 agree with me that the Deacon
used the expression more appropriately than the
Little School-ma'am:
My friend the owl, who lived a whole winter in
a library, says that Oh, dear me is a corruption
of the Spanish Ay de me, meaning woe is me, or
words to that' effect-and I am sure the owl is
right, because the Little School-ma'am thinks he is.

HOW FAR THAT LITTLE THIRTY-TWO THOUSAND
CANDLE THROWS ITS BEAMS!
DEAR, dear what will my birds tell me next
According to their account, there 's a wonderful
pole now standing in Minneapolis (which the Little
School-ma'am says is in Minnesota) that rears itself


higher than the tallest trees. Folk call it an elec-
tric mast, but it 's not a lightning-rod; no, in-
deed; it's a sort of electric chandelier, as near as I
can make it out. It holds up eight electric lights
(ST. NICHOLAS has told you about electric lights,
I believe *), and these eight lights shine out so
modestly, that, for almost a full mile from it in
every direction, those natives who happen to have
watches can tell the time of night without the aid
of any other light.
Minneapolis is a large city, and it takes a good
deal to light it; but I am told that some of the
smaller Western towns require but one of these
electric masts apiece to make them bright as
need be.
It's a new-fangled thing, this electrical illuminat-
ing business, and yet there 's something pleasantly
old-fashioned about it, too, when we think of one
of those Western towns, with the corporation, like
a good old mother, standing there holding out her
one great candle to light the whole town to bed.

FISHING BY LIGHTNING.
TALKING of electric light, do you know that
even the fishermen are using it now ? Yes, so my
sea-birds tell me. And the scientific folk who
study the wonders of the deep also are employing
it. They have a new invention called the "search-
light," which is three electric lights sealed in a
tight glass case, and this case in'closed in a very,
very strong glass globe. Now, the plan is to sink
the globe into the deep sea and illuminate the
lower waters with it; of course, this will attract the
fish,-deep-water fish, that are not known on the
surface,-and these, by means of a net attached
in some way to the search-light, may then be
caught and drawn up, and in the broad light of
day be introduced, like so many distinguished
strangers, to the naturalists.
Well, well, what next?

BLACK SNAKES AMONG THE FISH.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Did you know that black snakes
will catch and eat fish, if they have an opportunity? It is the truth.
One day this last summer, another boy and 1 saw two black snakes
chase three little fish in a shallow pool, and form themselves into a
sort of "hollow square," until they'closed in upon the little swim-
mers. We should have defended the fish, I suppose, by driving the
snakes away, but we did not do so. Yours respectfully,
JOHN C. McK.
EVANSVILLE, IND.
FLOATING SAND.
DEACON GREEN went to an academy the other
evening, and heard a wise man "read a paper "-
at least, that 's what it was called; but the Deacon
says the gentleman only stood up and talked in a
pleasant sort of way about the bottom of the deep
ocean. But one thing in his remarks surprised
the Deacon very much. And it was about floating
sand.
The Professor said that out in the deep sea,
away beyond the Gulf-stream, if you drag a net or
cloth in the water you will find many grains of
sand sticking to it; also, that when a dredge is
sunk to the bottom (or one of those plummets that


* See ST. NICHOLAS for May, 1882, page 566.-ED.


[AUGUST,







JACK IN T E PULPIT.


bring up a sample of what they have touched
sticking to the tallow with which they are coated),
the same fine beach-sand is found, mixed with
other matters. The Professor said that this sand
could not have been drifted out from shore in the
sediment brought down by rivers, because any-
thing of that kind will not be washed, at the far-
thest, more than forty or fifty miles out before sink-
ing. He said he thought the only way the sand
became spread all over the wide ocean bottom was
by its floating out upon the surface after the rising
of every tide, which picks the grains off the dry
beaches and sets them adrift. Now, the question
that puzzles Deacon Green and your own Jack is-
how can sand float at all; or, if some of it can, why
does n't all sand float instead of sinking; and why
does the sand which has floated far out to sea
sink at last?
We have not asked the dear Little School-
ma'am yet. But we have agreed to do so before
long. Bless you! That wonderful little lady
never fails us. She always knows the Reason
Why, or else she tells us the reason why she
does n't know it.
Meantime, let us hear from you, my friends.
How would you explain this floating-sand business ?
Ask Father, Mother, or some of the big folk in
your neighborhood, or, better still, ask your own
busy little noddles. It would be a good joke, now
-would n't it?-if we could find the right answer
after all, without troubling that blessed Little
School-ma'am.

LATEST REPORTS.

ALL goes swimmingly, my birds tell me, with
the boys who are enjoying their summer vacation
within reach of sea-side, river, brook, lake, pond,
or anything that can be called water So far, so
good.
Ah, me What wonder if they sometimes find
the books pretty dry by contrast when they go
back to land.


HOW KING VICTOR EMANUEL EARNED EIGHT CENTS.
DEAR JACK: I am a little Jersey girl, aged twelve years. My papa
has a fine, brave-looking likeness of Victor Emanuel, King of Italy.
That is, he was King of Sardinia, and in 1871 he entered Rome as
King of United Italy. He died five years ago this last winter, my
papa says, when he was only fifty-eight. That is n't old, you
know, for a king.
A few days ago, I found a nice true story about Victor Emanuel
written during the King's life-time, by Mr. A. T. Trollope. It is in
Papa's scrap-book, and he said I might copy it for your St. NICH-
OLAS boys and girls. So here it is:
"Victor Emanuel is an ardent sportsman and a first-rate shot.
Not many years ago, having in a mountain expedition wandered
away from all those who were with him, he came to a solitary
mountain farm, just after he had shot a hare. The farmer, who had
seen the shot, complimented the stranger sportsman on the excel-
lence of his shooting. The King admitted that he did consider him-
self a pretty fair shot. 'I wish to heaven,' said the farmer,
looking at him wistfully, that you could shoot a fox that robs my
poultry-yard almost every night! I 'd give a motta [an obsolete
Piedmontese piece, worth eight cents] to have him killed !'
'Perhaps I could!' said the .. 'But you must be here by
three o'clock in the morning. I r. 's about the time he always
comes.' 'Well, a motta you say? I '11 try for it. I 'l be here
about that time to-morrow morning.' Accordingly, without allow-
ing any one to know the errand on which he was bound, the King
found himself at the mountain homestead at the appointed hour,
and posted himself in a favorable position for watching the proceed-
ings of the depredator of the farm-yard. Reynard did not make
himself long waited for, and he fell dead at the first shot of the royal
marksman, to the great delight of the farmer, who, true to his word,
came down with his motta handsomely. The King pocketed the
coin, and went off to exhibit it with great glee, as 'the first money
he had ever earned by the work of his own hands! '"
Your sincere young friend,
ESTHER G-

WHO CAN ANSWER THIS?
PHILADELPHIA.
DEAR MR. JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: May we ask you a question
Perhaps some of your birds can tell.
I have sometimes seen stars fall, or seem to. We want to know
if they really do fall, and what becomes of them afterward; where
do they go to? do they ever shine again?
Ask some of your readers this, if you please.
Your very great friends,
LULU CLARKE and NELLIE CALDWELL.

CHIVALRY.

THE funny boy of the Red-School-house asks
your Jack to show this romantic picture to the
ST. NICHOLAS boys and girls:


^y



S-. ~1; ,
- -- -. _. .. - --





-I,a
_-,t ,j ,' TH -. ..
-I I..-I..f : ..
'!', 'J1 '- . /-,'-W 'i .,*** 1


.' ', 1, \ |

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NONE BUT THE BRAVE DESERVE THE FAIR.


1883.]






THE LETTER-BOX.


[AUGUST,


STHE LETTER-BOX.


CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the 15th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently
be examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the magazine with
contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.


WE are glad to acknowledge the receipt of a subscription of six
dollars to The Children's Garfield Fund, sent by Our Little
General." This generous gift will enable three of the poor children
of New York to spend a happy week at the sea-side. The ST.
NICHOLAS subscriptions to the Fund now amount to $502.79.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In lots of my books I read about the girls
fixing up their rooms and making them look so cosy, and I have
been very much interested in it, and have tried to make my room
look pretty and cosy. I have not succeeded very well, and I hap-
pened to think ST. NICHOLAS might give me some ideas, and so I
wrote. Please answer through the ST. NICHOLAS Letter-box. I
don't want to go to much expense. Your interested reader, DAISY.
Read H. H.'s article entitled "The Expression of Rooms," in
ST. NICHOLAS for June, 1876.

MRS. S. C. L.: Your letter concerning the proposed club inter-
ested us very much, and we have held it, thinking that perhaps we
would follow out the idea, but finally have decided that we can not
do so for the present, at least.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to-present the following sugges-
tions to the many young readers of the good ST. NICHOLAS:
Will not the happy boys and girls in these glad vacation days
remember the "wee folk" whose lives are less favored, and for
whom the summer brings small pleasure? Remember them by col-
lecting and mending old toys and games--relinquishing a few min-
utes of each day to the repairing process; by making bright scrap-
books; by gathering sweet flowers and ferns, and, in the early
autumn, richly colored leaves. In a word, make these holidays of
some use to others. The little ones at Bellevue and other hospitals,
and throughout the tenements, might be made so joyful and pleased
by these souvenirs of other child-thought.
Very sincerely, AUNT LoIo."

CARRIZO SPRINGS, TEXAS.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I go to school at home, as we live
one hundred and forty miles from San Antonio. I have four sisters
and three brothers. I have been taking the ST. NICHOLAS a year,
and like it so much. When it comes, all the children want to look at
it at once. We are twenty-five miles from a post-office and seven
miles from the Rio Grande. We do not get lonesome, as we take so
many papers. We have an organ and piano. We often have com-
pany, and entertain them with recitations and music. Can you tell
me what causes the mirage on this far-off table-land? Once we saw
what looked like an oceaT.r Ships and steamers were at anchor near
a beautiful city Another time we saw a clear lake, and we wanted
to go and see it. Sometimes we can see ill waving. We can
see the Santa Rosa mountains, ninety miles trom here, away over in
Mexico. We are going to move to San Antonio next summer.
MATTIE V-
Place a lighted oil lamp near the window. Roll a sheet of
paper into a tube. Stand behind the lamp, and look with one eve
through the tube at the top of the lamp chimney. Then raise the
tube till you can see a tree or other object at the window. If the
tree is directly over the lamp chimney, it will appear to quiver or
tremble. Blow out the lamp and look again in the same way. The
tree now appears to stand perfectly still.
Why is this? The hot air rises vertically from the lamp chimney,
and you see the e tree through this hot air. The heat of the
lamp expands the air, and just over the chimney the air is ex-
panded and thinner than the air all about it. You see the tree
because it sends rays of light reflected from the sun in a straight
line to your eye. When light, moving from an object to the eye,
meets a thinner, place in the air, as when it is hot, or when it meets
any thicker substance, like glass, it is bent or turned aside. You
know this to be so because you have seen how a lens, like an eye-
glass, bends the light that passes through it, and our little experiment
with the lamp shows the same thing.
This is the cause of the mirage on the plains, or the loom-


ing" seen on the sea-shore on bright, hot days. The air about
you is heated by the sun, and everything seen through it appears
distorted. Distant islands rise above the horizon and appear to swim
on the sky. Ships appear double, and sometimes upside down.
Distant hills or woods seem to rise above the edge of the plain,
and the very ground seems to you as if it were water. In every
case it is the same. The heated air acts as a great lens, distorting
the vision, and, like the lens of a telescope, bringing into view things
you could not see without it.

AUGUSTA, GA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: 1 have been taking you for five years, but
have not been able to muster up courage enough to write to you.
I send a poem called "The Sea," which, I hope, will be pub-
lished in the next number.
THE SEA.
Oh, deceitful and treacherous deep, give up thy stolen treasure;
Ever thou thy vigils keep to deep, monotonous measure.

Thou cruel, cruel deep, give back the dead thou hast won:
Many a new-born babe, and many a loved one gone.

Sometimes thou art pretty blue, but often a treacherous gray;
Many a life is lost through you, for that's what the wild waves say.
As I must now close, I say Au revoir.
FREDERICK C. B. (II years).

SIMONSVILLE, VT., May 18, 1883.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In the last number of your excellent maga-
zine, I saw an inquiry by "F. I. G.," asking who was the author of
"There was a little girl," etc. I send you an article clipped from
The Youl/'s Caomanion, hoping it will prove satisfactory, ifnot too
lengthy to publish. Yours sincerely, S. C.
"Mrs. Macchetta (Blanche Roosevelt Tucker) relates an embar-
rassing experience that she had in an interview with Mr. Longfellow.
The poet m conversation with her (at his home and in the presence
of his family) had said, referring to certain specimens of absurd cur-
rent rhymes: 'I often wondered how such things ever came to be
printed'; but he added, with his usual justice: My failure to appre-
ciate it is, however, no sign that a reason does not exist for writing
it. Many persons in this world may like and admire what I could
not give a second thought to.' 'Yes,' replied Mrs. Macchetta,
'there is no accounting for the rubbish that will find its way to pub-
licity; the authors are never known, and, perhaps, it is as well. I
can at present call to mind only one instance under the head of
poetry, which runs as follows: or,--I stopped (says the lady), with
an inquiring look around, as if retracting my idea of repeating it;
but an earnest 'Pray, go on,' in which the Professor's voice was
uppermost, insisted on hearing the aforesaid 'rubbish,' whereupon I
proceeded:
'There was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
That hung in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good,
She was very very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.'
"Imagine my confusion when the poet raised his eyes, and,
with a faint smile, said: 'Why, those are my words, are they not,
Annie ?' turning to his youngest daughter, who at that moment was
gracefully stepping out upon the terrace through the low window,
and, strange to say, was humming to herself the very same rhymes
I had just characterized as 'rubbish.' 'Why, of course, Papa,' said
Annie, laughing, 'that comes in your nursery collection. Don't
you remember when Edith was a little girl and did n't want to
have her hair curled, you took her up in your arms, and shaking
your finger at her, began, "There was a little girl," etc. ?' The
poet laughed, they all laughed, and I, in spite of my discomfiture,
had to join in the general merriment. But I could not forget
my awkward position. The poet was too good-natured to say any-
thing, but it was impossible not to laugh, and my self-esteem dropped
lower and lower, till it was lost in humiliation." READER.
We have received many other letters stating that Longfellow
wrote the verse in question.








THE LETTER-BOX.


AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION-TWENTY-NINTH REPORT.

THE subject for study this month in Entomology is Hetmiplera.
Records of original observation should be prepared in accordance
with the plan presented in the July ST. NICHOLAS, and sent to Prof.
G. Howard Parker, Academy of Sciences, Philadelphia, Pa.
Prof. French, of Wells College, Aurora, N. Y., meets with veryfa-
vorable responses to his invitation to exchange ioo specimens of plants,
and generously offers the following prizes: To the Chapter making
the most complete collection of pressed plants from their county, a
choice between an excellent compound microscope, costing not less
than $20, and a complete set of North American ferns, more than
150 different species. The second best collection shall take the one
of the two prizes not chosen by the successful Chapter. The sets
are to be sent to Prof. French by Nov. ist. The collections, except-
ing the best two, shall be broken up and distributed among such
smaller Chapters as earn them by faithful work during the summer.
The subject for the class in Botany this month is Stems, and the
specimens are to be prepared (as explained in the July ST. NICHOLAS)
in accordance with the following scheme, and sent to Prof Jones:
II. STEMS.
UNDER-GROUND :
Rool-stocks (mints, sedges, ferns, etc.),
shapes,
uses (to the plants, to animals, to man).
Corms (lily family, violets, etc.),
shapes,
uses (see root-stocks' uses).
Bulbs,
tunicated (leeks, etc.),
scaly (lily, oxalis, etc.),
shapes,
uses (see above).
iERIAL (above ground).
Position .
erect,
diffuse,
declined,
ascending,
decumbent,
prostrate,
creeping,
climbing
by tendrils,
petioles,
rootlets,
twining,
right,
left.
Texture:
herbaceous,
suffrutescent (slightly shrubby),
suffruticose (shrubby),
arborescent (tree-like),
arboreous (trees).
Kinds :
ordinary forms (simple and branched),
caudex,
culms,
suckers,
offsets,
runners,
stolons,
tendrils,
spines,
thorns, etc.
Shapes .
round (grasses, most herbs),
oval,
half-round,
triangular (sedges, etc. ),
sharp-angled,
obtuse-angled,
convex-sided,
concave-sided,
square (mints, etc.),
flat forms (see triangular),
fluted (grasses, etc.),
striate (grasses, etc.), etc.
Afflepndages."
wings,
etc. (see hair).
Uses:
to the plants,
to animals and man,
special uses,
as leaves (cactacee, etc.), etc.
A rrangesment of branches:
see phyllotaxy of leaves.
see inflorescence.


NEW CHAPTERS.

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
487 Salt Lake City, Utah (B). 9..Wm. W. Brown.
488 Elmira, N. Y. (A) ....... 8..Ausburn F. Towner.
489 Gettysburg, Pa. (A) ..... 4.. Morris W. Croll.
490 New York, N. Y. (N) ... 6.. Stephen D. Sammis, 221a E.
zo5.
491 Rochester, Ind. (A) ...... 6..Miss Nellie Scull, Box S.
492 Peru, Mass. (A).......... 6..Miss H. Ada Stowell.
493 Buffalo, N. Y. (F) ....... 12..Miss Lizzie Schugens, 322 Elli-
cott street.
494 Northfield, Vt. (A). ..... o..Miss Clara E. Harwood, Box
228.
495 Salt Lake City, Utah (C).. 7..Arthur Loomis, Box 122o.
496 Boston, Mass. (E)........ 6..G. A. Orrok, Olney street,
Ward 24.
497 Trenton, N. J. (B)....... 9.H. C. Allen, Jackson street.
498 Pittsburgh, Pa. (E) ....... 6..Wm. Searight, 23d and Liberty.


NOTES.

(22) I have observed with'great interest the rise and progress of
the A. A., and write this note to contribute a suggestion for their
use. One of the most desirable modes of research would be to raise
wild plants from seed, for the plrr--e -f '--irtnin- sh th imt- -f
variation in certain groups. F ... .. I .. .. -
are the Canadensis section of
Aster corymbosus and levis, and Datura Stramontiumu. Let each
person collect the seeds of a single plant only, which should be care-
fully identified, and sow and cultivate them till maturity.
WM. H. SEAMAN, Prof. Chem., Washington, D. C.
(23) Hawthorn leaves.-The yellow spots on hawthorn leaves
(see N. 21) are usually caused by a fungus, a Roestelia, of which
there are several species. W. H. SEAMAN.
(24) Spiders (answer to i).-This is a common habit of running
spiders (Lycosidte). The female carries her cocoon attached to the
spinnerets, and also carries the young for some time on her body.
G. HOWARD PARKER.
(25) Wingless Mofts (answer to 6).-The female of the common
vapor moth (Orgyia lezcostigma) is wingless, and lives but a few
hours. The male has wings. G. H. P.
(26) Sflders (answer to 9).-There was a very fine thread on
which the spider ran out into the air. G. H. P.
(27) Frogs.-Last summer I killed a frog which stretched about
nine inches. On cutting it open a live mussel was found in its
stomach. The shell measured 2ix x y inches. A. C. G.
(28) Pollen.-It always seemed to me that wind fertilization must
depend greatly on chance, and the instances where a grain fell on
the pistil of another plant must be rare. But I happened to shake
a spray of cones in the sunlight, and at once I understood the ar-
rangement better. The air was filled with a cloud of yellow dust,
and a quantity, seeming very small when collected on a glass,
separated into thousands of grains, each showing clearly in the sun-
light. The air in spring-time must be filled with pollen-grains. G.
(29) Entomological Sufpflies.-By an error, the A. A. handbook
makes Professor Ward, of Rochester, deal in insect pins, etc. They
can be obtained from Southwick & Jencks, Providence, R. I.
(30) Nematus Ventricosus.- Found on currant, June 3, Is in.
long; head black; 2d and nxth segments yellow; others light
green. Head covered with short hairs. Six true legs, black, with
green at joints. Sixteen false legs, soft and green. Row of black
warts on each side of middle of back, and two rows on each side.
Dorsal black patch on last segment. Cast spotted skin, and became
pale green. Larva raised posterior segments when disturbed.
Some entered .- -..- 1 ...d made rough pupal cases. Onemadenone.
One made a ....: ..1. cocoon and attached itself to a leaf. Re-
mained in pupal state from June 8 to June 20. Imago P expands
half an inch; body five-sixteenths of an inch long. Head black;
thorax black and dark yellow. Abdomen dark yellow, with four spots
and four stripes. Legs dark yellow. Antenna nine-jointed. Eggs
small, white, laid on mid-rib of currant leaf.
F. W. GREELEY, Nashua, N. H.
(31) .Mantis Religiosa.-The insectwhich "Old Boy" speaks of
as "Devil's Coach-horse" is here called the "Rear Horse." It is
described in Chambers's Cyclopaedia," and seems to be identical
with the Mantis religiosa, plentiful in southern France and Italy.
They fight fiercely and often, until one or both combatants are dead.
J. A. S., Washington, D. C.
(32) Chickadees.- Chickadees do not eat their food on the ground
as other birds do, but fly with it to a tree, and eat it, holding it with
their claws and picking at it X.
(33) Savannah Cricket Frog.-This beautiful animal, which is
known in New Jersey as the "peeper," "rattler," etc., and scien-
tifically as -Acris crefitans (Baird), is very changeable in color. Of
a series of twenty, which I have long had confined in a glass fish-
globe, hardly any two are of the same shade. Some are almost
black; some have the dorsal stripe a bright red; some have an








.THE LETTER-BOX.


emerald green stripe; and others are clay color. One inch is about
the average length, and the weight is from forty-two to forty-four
grains. They may be readily distinguished by a dark triangular
patch between the eyes, and oblique blotches of the same shade on
the sides. On a closer examination, a minute white line may be
traced between the eye and ear. I found one.partly digested in the
stomach of a small pike (Esoz reticulatus), and have repeatedly seen
snakes eat them. During the early spring, and up to about the 2oth
of May, they range in incalculable numbers along the brook-sides,
or, in fact, in almost any damp, shady place; but after that date, a
very noticeable diminution in their numbers takes place, and by the
ioth of the following month not a single specimen is to be seen.
It is thought by some that, with the maturing of the ova and the
labor of depositing it, their vigor culminates, and having spawned,
they have no vital force remaining, and in the course of a few days
die. The eggs are laid on the blades of that coarse grass which is
so common by brook-sides. From these are hatched tadpoles, which
mature about the middle of August.
SHIPPENSBURG, PA.

(34) Sliders.-We have many spiders- especially one as large as
a marble, of a jet black with yellow stripes. When it sings or
spins, if you stand ten feet away, you would think you were near a
bumble-bee's nest. C. P. HUBLEY.
NASHUA, N. H.
(35) Spiders.-I have noticed that a spider, in running over his
web, makes no use of his hind pair of legs. F. W. GREELEY.

(36) Lizards.-I have several lizards. Their home is in the
area, around the basement window. They are dark-green, with
yellowish spots, and are from six to eight inches long. When it
rains they come out. They eat insects. KATHERINE E. GOLD.

(37) W)hydah- The "A. A." is extremely interesting, and I
should like to join it. The only pets I can keep in London are
birds. I have twelve in an aviary. I have a curious bird called a
Paradise Whydah. In the winter he is just 1..: .1- ..- i ...
but in the summer he goes through a complete '. I .. .i. i
tail grows out to the length of twelve inches, and he changes color
completely. This goes on every year. Yours truly,
MAUD BENDALL, London, Eng.

(38) Bee-cells.-Henry Franc, Jr., says: "I think it is clearly
proven that the form of a bee's cell is not the result of chance. Pro-
fessors IMacLaurin and Sk6nig have found, by the calculus, that
the greatest angle should be one hundred and nine degrees
twenty-six minutes, and the smallest seventy degrees thirty-four
minutes, tce very angles which the bee adopts. We further find
that the middle of every cell on one side is directly opposite the
point where the three partitions meet on the other side. By this
arrangement the cell receives additional strength."
(39) Turtle.-Pauline Falconar, one of our most faithful little
members, has a turtle, and notes that it feeds on worms and snails.


REPORTS FROM CHAPTERS.

Salt Lake City A reports greatly increasing interest, constant
visits from friends, open meetings well attended, lectures, and ex-
cursions.-The Sec. of og9 is in Switzerland, and writes: "A child
of four years here walks five miles with ease, and the young ladies
almost twenty without being tired."-445 picks up crinoid stems
"by the hundred."- Beverly, Mass., has two cabinets, is success-
ful in raising butterflies, and has held a fair.-Neillsville, Wis., has
bought several good books, a handsome walnut case, a scrap-book,
and is full of enthusiasm.-Brooklyn E is analyzing flowers and
holding debates, and has proved that iron, eagles, dogs, and mos-
quitoes are more useful, respectively, than gold, vultures, cats, and
bees.--448 has answered questions in back reports from ST. NICHO-
LAS, receives specimens at every meeting, has appointed a Scrap-
pist," and has a populous co-
coon-box; and we can not for-
bear quoting a few lines relative
to an expedition recently made
to Georgetown Heights: "Near
a charming old place possessing
unique garden borders formed
of wild flowers, either English
or American, we could recog-
nize among the former only the
pale yellow primrose, delicately
fragrant. A lavender drooping
flower, our hostess said, was
once found in the neighboring
woods, but is now found near
here only in this border. It is
mentioned by H. H. in one of
her books of travel. She saw
it in California, growing in a
cleft of a rock." (We present a picture of this delicate flower here-
with.) 93 had handsome programmes printed on the occasion of their


second anniversary, which they celebrated by a fine entertainment
on Agassiz's birthday.-Brooklyn A, after a special debate of four
hours, has decided that the destruction of birds' eggs is "productive
of evil effects to vegetation and to morals," and has resolved to
"abstain from collecting them."- North Adams, Mass., has grown
so popular that the number of members has been strictly limited to
members of the High School and persons over fifteen years old.
[Room there for Chapter B -for the little folks!]
382 has acquired a good elementary acquaintance with lithology
and entomology during the year, but has been deeply saddened by
the death of one of the founders and a dearly beloved member,
Paul Van Ingen, who died April 28, 1883. The whole Association
will share the sorrow of this Chapter in the loss of one of its most
earnest workers and most lovely characters.-All the Chapters of
De Pere, Wis., united for a picnic on A-1; birthday, and,
"under a beautiful festoon of flowers, i.t.: I. name of Louis
Agassiz was also wrought in flowers, each member took his or
her position, and producing some new specimen, gave a short
description of it, and laid it on the society's table." After this
came a dinner and a search for specimens.- Newton Upper Falls
has been steadily advancing," and one member is learning how
to stuff birds, having already succeeded nicely with a blue-jay.-
229 makes expeditions nearly every week, attends the meetings of
the City Scientific Society, conducts its meetings by parliamentary
rules, has essays and debates, and is going to exhibit its collection
in the "famous Exposition this fall."- Plantsville, Conn., rounds
out its first year with an excellent report, having held meetings
every two weeks with scarcely an exception. The members spend
a little part of each meeting in looking over the S. S. lesson for next
Sur..1 .-. ;.-... the example of Prof. Agassiz, they open
all I- ...- ,.. ii. prayer.
188 "continues to flourish, and has spent most of its time among
the birds, but is now going to the ant."--Chittenango, No. 447,
"talks of opening a public library," and we would that every Chap-
ter, wherever there is not already such a library, would not only
"talk of," but actually open one. It can be done by a few earnest
workers.-17o has progressed, and is aiming at a still higher
"mark." Six of them captured a "42-inch black snake, alive."
[It is to be hoped that does n't mean 42-inch caliber.]


EXCHANGES AND QUESTIONS.

Correspondence with distant Chapters.- Miss Marie MacKennan,
box 1313, Baraboo, Wis.
Petrified wood, for mounted sea-weed or star-fish.-D. W. Rice,
box 193, Brandon, Vt.
Sunsets and skulls, for fossils.-Ernest L. Stephan, Pine City,
Minnesota.
Fossils.-F. C. Johnson, Boonville, N. Y.
Shells, for fossils and minerals.-W. D. Grier, 590 Tremont,
Boston.
Geodes, agates, etc., for fern impressions, star-fish, or insects.-
Carleton Gilbert, no6 Wildwood ave., Jackson, Mich.
Where can gilt insect-pins be procured?
Meteorite, agates, silver ore, figured mica, etc., for minerals, fos-
sils, or shells.-Frank Jay, 25o1 Indiana ave., Chicago, Illinois.
Chalcopyrite, tourmaline, turquoise, platinum, etc. All letters
answered. Send postal.- Ezra R. Lamed, 2546 S. Dearborn,
Chicago, Ill.
Southern and Northern woods, for labeled woods. Write first for
particulars.-Isaac Ford, Ch. 394. I .
Chapter 229 offers for four best sets of lepidoptera (three insects in
each set)--for best, o5 fine minerals; 2d best, io; 3d, 5; and
4th, 3. The specimens shall weigh not less than i% ounces each,
and include silver ore, malachite, azurite, topaz, tourmaline, etc.-
E. R. Lamed, 2546 S. Dearborn st., Chicago, Ill.
Electrical apparatus ($3), for minerals.- Kenneth Hartley, Ft.
Scott, Kansas.
Sets and single eggs, for single eggs.- F. D. Lisle, 486 Bond st.,
Providence, R. I.
Is the color of the beaver's incisors natural or caused by the sap
of the trees it gnaws ?

PRIZE.

The prize for the essay on Evidences of Design in Nature" is
awarded to Mr. M. Blake, of Chapter A, Taunton, Mass. Our
crowded columns will not allow us to print his paper, and we can
only say that Mr. Blake draws his arguments from his own obser-
vations, on "waders," crabs, clams, and other sea-side creatures,
and from some inhabitants of the land, such as ants and aphides.
Honorable mention must be made of Mrs. Rachel Mellon, Miss
Ethel Gillis, P. C. Benedict, A. C. Bent, E. L. Stephan, R. P.
Miller, Eleanor D. Munger, C. B. Davenport, H. H. Bice, F. W.
Wentworth, Marian Armstrong, and W. W. Mills.
President's address: HARLAN H. BALLARD,
Principal of Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.


[AUGUST,








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


CHARADE.

IN my wliole to the country Jehosaphat went;
There my second he happened to see.
He gazed with my first at the terrible sight,
And my whole he declared it to be. w. H. A,


SYNCOPATIONS.

THE syncopated words, read in the order here given, will spell
the surname of a president of the United States who was born in
1784.
i. Snycopate a word meaning morning, and leave principal. 2.
Syncopate to supplicate, and leave to inspect closely. 3. Syncopate
to move spirally, and leave an iron frame for holding fuel. 4. Syn-
copate to gaze earnestly, and leave a homed animal. 5. Syncopate
a small animal, and leave to ponder. 6. Syncopate a district or
region, and leave adroitness. PAUL R.

HALF-SQUARE.


CROSS-WORDS : A famous French general, who was born on
August 15, over a hundred years ago. 2. Worshipers. 3. To
think upon deliberately. 4. A command. 5. An affected look.
6. To make a mistake. 7. A bone. 8. In general. s. F.

MUSICAL CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.

IN Weber, but not in Bach;
In Paganini, but not in Mozart;
In Ernst, but not in David;
In Chopin, but not in Liszt;
In Bellini, but not in Spohr;
In Schumann, but not in Rossini;
In Wagner, but not in Beethoven;
In Mendelssohn, but not in Donizetti;
In Gluck, but not in Haydn;
In Rubenstein, but not in Von Bulow.
My whole was a famous violinist. HELEN F. T.

RIDDLE.

I AM composed of seven letters, and am liked by Germans, but
not by Jews. If I am divided into two parts, I am an injunction to
a wise man to work. If I am divided differently into two parts, I
tell what impertinent children do to their elders.
MARNA AND BAE."

COMBINATION PUZZLE.
I. II.


I.-i. Behead tidy and leave to consume. 2. Behead a paradise
and leave a cave. 3. Behead at what time and leave a fowl. 4.
Behead an opening and leave metal. 5. Behead to discloseand leave
an inclosure. 6. Behead behind and leave part of the head. 7.
Behead a journey and leave to unfasten. The beheaded letters will
spell the name of a summer resort.
II.--. Behead avessel and leavepart of the body. 2. Behead very
dry and leave to free from. 3. Behead ire and leave era. 4. Be-
head a pious utterance and leave human beings. 5. Behead to rend
and leave the spike of grain containing the kernels. 6. Behead a
sign and leave "children of a larger growth." 7. Behead what all


wish for and leave aged. 8. Behead a pious utterance and leave
human beings. The beheaded letters will spell the name of a sum-
mer resort.
The fifteen words, before being beheaded, may be used in the fol-
lowing sentences, to replace the dashes:
the -, the admiral commanding,
took a in the -- sea, on a hot day in August, the sky sud-
denly became overcast, and the rain fell in torrents. It seemed as if
the s of heaven opened; the sea d and the wind was
furious enough to each sail so shreds. But soon after bright
sky appeared, and the sun shone forth like on sands.
Then the people rejoicedat the good and cried --- -- .
LT E D.
THE BARBER'S PUZZLE.


THE barber was out; and a customer, after. 1 1 :.- carefully at
the cups, concluded to await his return. '. ..r I. I he find on
the twelve cups? G. F.


WORD-BUILDING.

BEGIN the word with a beverage,
But with one letter name it;
Prefix a letter, and at once
The prepositions claim it;
Prefix, again, an animal;
Annex at what price stated;
Prefix a kind of wicker-work
In which nice fruit is freighted;
Annex, a mouth you will have then,
But not of animals or men.


H. FH. D.


DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

MY primals and finals each name an indefinite substance; one is
black, and one is white.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A Greek tragic poet. 2. A brief space of
time. 3. A tropical fruit. 4. A peninsula of Asia. 5. A place for
commerce. FRANCIS W. 1.








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


DIAMOND.

i. IN gander. 2. A fondling. 3. Subject to a penalty. 4. A
wild flower. 5. What comets have. 6. Three-fourths of a wooden
mold. 7. In gander. THE HOUGHTON FAMILY.
BEHEADINGS AND CURTAILING.

1. BEHEAD and curtail ajewel, and leave the organ of hearing.
2. Behead and curtail a large pair of scissors, and leave to listen to.
3. Behead and curtail very angry, and leave a small animal. 4. Be-
head and curtail the subject of a discourse, and leave a border. 5.
Behead and curtail to disembark, and leave a useful article..
The beheaded letters, when transposed, form a word meaning to
divide. The curtailed letters, when transposed, form the name ot a
city in England. w. ST. L.


CONCEALED WORD-SQUARE.
ONE word is concealed in each sentence: i. Tom wondered, as he
drew near to the house, that not even Ponto remembered him. 2.
At St. Malo, every one admires the famous harbor. 3. There is the
bad man who beats our dog nearly every day. 4. Tom and Jack
together drove the large flock of sheep to the upper pasture.
KARI.
EASY WORD-SQUARES.
I.--. A tube. 2. A beloved object. 3. The place where an
election is held. 4. A girl's name.
II.--. A kind of grain. 2. A medley. 3. To drive. 4. A
shout ofjoy.
III.-I. Attitude. 2. Resembling oak. 3. An island near Scot-
land. 4. Views. ALEX. LAIDLAW.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.


BEHEADINGS. American Independence. Cross-words: i. T-ale.
2. A-men. 3. K-eel. 4. T-rap. 5. T-ire. 6. S-car. 7. P-ant.
8. S-nap. 9. R-ice. io. S-now. I. E-den. 12. P-ear. 13.
S-pin. 14. M-end. x5. S-nip. 16. A-dam. 17. H-elm. i8.
K-new. 19. S-can. 20. F-eat.
MAZE.


ii-



I'I I,( T




I''





I -.'
I I
1'1!
___________________


I -


_lK:




iIi





JI' IIJ __ ____ ____


DOUBLE DIAGONALS. Hand- dial. Crosss-words: s. Hard.
2. Dais. 3. Fans. 4. Load.
ANAGRAM. Abraham Lincoln.
CHARADE. Innocent.
HISTORICAL NUMERICAL ENIGMA. A merry heart maketh a
cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
-Proverbs xv. 03.
NOVEL ACROSTIC. Israel Putnam. Cross-words. i. SImPle.
2. EScUlapius. 3. CRaTer. 4. CArNation. 5. CEdAr. C.
PLuMe.
FIRE-CRACKER MAZE.

----------------- --------






COMBINATION PUZZLE. Diagonals, Washington and Com-
wallis. Place of surrender, Yorktown. Left-hand side of perpen-
dicular: i. Witty. 2. Talon. 3. Nests. 4. Goths. 5. Ennui. 6.
Villa. 7. Coils. 8. Solid. 9. Liken. io. Satin. Right-hand
side: i. Antic. 2. Stoop. 3. Mural. 4. Knock. 5. Wrong. 6.
Never. 7. Agent. 8. Watch. 9. Valor. ro. Solon. I.-Beheaded
letters, Washington. Cross-words: i. W-rote. 2. A-tone. 3.
S-cold. 4. H-edge. 5. I-deal. 6. N-omen. 7. G-rate. 8.
T-ease. 9. O-pine. io. N-once. II.-Syncopated letters, Corn-
wallis. Cross-words: i. Pe-C-an. 2. Fl-O-at. 3. Sh-R-ed. 4.
Li-N-es. 5. Fa-W-ns. 6. Se-A-ts. 7. Pe-L-ts. 8. Pi-L-es.
9. Ho-I-st. xo. Be-S-et. III.-Curtailed letters, Yorktown.
Cross-words: s. Sill-Y. 2. Limb-O. 3. Ride-R. 4. Clan-K. 5.
Fain-T. 6. Ling-0. 7. Bede-W. 8. Grow-N.
TRIPLE ACROSTIC. Havre, Paris, Seine. Cross-words: i.
HoPes. 2. AbAtE. 3. VeRdI. 4. ReIgN. 5. EnSuE.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, too late for acknowledgment in the July number, from Bell Macdonald,
Lyttelton, New Zealand, 12-Edith McKeever and her cousin, Heidelberg, Germany, 8-Isabel Purington, 6-H. and F. Davis, 13.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE JUNE NUMBER were received, before June 20, from Cuchee Smith-Two Subscribers-Arthur
Gride-"Mama and Bae"-Pearl Francis Stevens- Heath Sutherland -Helen C. McCleary-M. S. T.-" Blythe"- Alice H. J.-
Jennie and Birdie- Louise M. Knight- Lucretia Minnie B. Murray -"Cold Moon "-The Houghton Family-" Butterfly and une
Bug"-Arian Arnold-Dexter S. Crosby, Jr., and Harry W. Chandler, Jr.-G. A. Lyon-A. P. Owder,Jr.-Georgie Draper- P. S.
Clarkson -"Richmond, Ky."-Bessye H. Smith-"Alcibiades"-Emma and Jennie Elliott-F. and H. Davis-Walter B. Angell-
Florence Wilkinson- Bessie and Birdie-Violet- Maggie T. Turrill-C. S. C.-X. Y. Z.--. Maud Bugbee--Florence E. Provost-
Hugh and Cis--D. B. Shumway-Francis W. Islip-Walter Fisk-G6nie J. Callmeyer-G. Lansing and J. Wallace-Pinnie and
Jack--The Stewart Browns--X. Y. and Z.--Chas. H. Parmley-Lottie A. Best- Madeleine Vultee--Lulu M. Stabler--Estelle
Riley- Clara J. Child -- No Name.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JUNE NUMBER were received, before June 20, from "Jessamine," 2-G. M. W., -Fannie S., i-
Julian R. Keeler, i-Bertie French, i-Adrienne Duysters, i -"Bookworm," 4-Arthur B. Phelan, I-"Extension," 6-Theodore
Yankauer, 5-J. N. D. Dickinson, 2- Livingston Ham, 6-Annette M. Ham, -Lizzie S., 3-" Hen and Chickens," 8-Ruth and
Samuel H. Camp, 2-The Two Annies, x3-Florence Williams, Bessie A., 4--Emmet and Frankie Nicolai, 2--Herbert Perrin, i-
Philip Embury, Jr., 2o-Bessie Comstock, 2-"Star," 5-Emeline Inngerich and Clara Small, i -May A. Cornell and Sister, 13-
Lizzie F. S.. Little Gracie, 3-Belle and Mary Patterson, 7-" Ignoramus and Nonentity," r- Carrie and Alice Williams, 7-Edith
L. B., 6-E. Bancroft, 5-" Captain Cuttle," 8-Ethel, 3-Elsie Prentiss, --Geo. B. Maggini, 2-James M. Barr, 2-T. A. Russell,
i-Daisy, 3-G. H. Dennison, 6-Austin H. Pease, 9-Horace R. Parker, i-B. W., i-J. W. Pettit, 2-"Blossom," 5-Abbie
Schermerhorn. 3--Lewis P. Robinson, 5 -Hugh IM eckleston, Daisy Talman, 4- P. O. Hartough, Jr., 6 -Marie A., 2- Effie K.
Talboys, xi -""Clover and Arbutus," 3-" Nip and Tuck," 7- Estella Jane Spencer, 2-J. J. Lee, --A. S. Pennington, n -L. I.. o1
-- Louisa, 6-Helen Merriam, 6- Paul Reese, 13- Christine Oberfelder, 3-G. Ranium, 3- Edward L. Hunt, 3-Frank Mitchell, z-
Lee W. Earnest, 3-Cabell Chadwick, --Mary E. Baker, 8-Florence Reeves, 6-Ruth C. Schropp, x2 -Subscriber, i-The New-
some Family, ii-" Fordyce Aimee," 13- Anna E. B. H., --M. T. H., 5-Frank Shallenberger, xo-Alex. H. Laidlaw, 9-Dora
Jackson, 3- G. Blanchard Dodge, 4- Hessie, 3-Charles H. Wright, 13-"Liliput," 2-W. R. Gaylord, 2--George W. Dessalet, 5
- Philip Davis, 2- May M4Brunson, 2- George Lyman Waterhouse, 12- Carl H. Niemeyer, 8-" Robin Hood," 9- Cambridge Liv-
ingston, 4- Florence Budd, 4 -The Coates Family, 8- Ella Fisher, i Matie Martin, 3- Calla, 6- Florence P. Jones, i Estelle
Weiler, 9 Mamma and Nellie, ix-- Myrick Rheem, 8 Professor and Co., io-" Phil. O. Sophy," 5 E. E. V. and A. B. J., 3 -
G. M. Lawton, 4--Marguerite Kyte, i-Charles H. Kyte, 4-Bessie and Sadie Rhodes, i2-Edith L. F., and M. D. F., 3-Gertie
and Ed Ward, 2- Isabella Ganeaux, n Louis R. Custer, 12-" Caedmon," 12 -Susie and Papa, 6- Kari, 7-Mary and Nathalie,
6-Algerrion Tassin. I -Lulu Culver, 8. Numerals denote the number of puzzles solved.


800


[AUGUST.









































S "KELLOGG-HUBBARD LIBRARY

..'., MONTPELIER, V-T.


". K"eep yur Card ithi. Pocket and return it
.- with -lie'book to the library.

.' ,.. -:LP .

........Aperso i wfilly and maliciously .
-' ri s uion- or injares a60'k, plate, picture,
S.'. :engraving or etatue belonging to a-law, town
republic li.rary, sli1 be fined not more than
ione thousan-d dollars, nor less tharinfive dol-
Sars." Section .6978, of the General Laws
6 :f f:Verrnont, 191..


I



































































\IJ"




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