Front Cover
 The princess's holiday
 His one fault
 The cooking class
 Lorraine's reason - Personally...
 A startling discovery (picture)...
 The isle of content - The cruise...
 The house that Jack built
 A queer coasting-place
 Little mischief
 Asking a blessing (picture)
 The bicycle boys - Ready for...
 A dozen little dolls
 Tea-cup lore
 Among the law-makers
 One, two, three
 Quite prudent
 Work and play for young folk: Metallic...
 The first convention of the Agassiz...
 For very little folk
 The St. Nicholas almanac
 Falling leaves
 The riddle-box
 The letter-box
 Back Cover


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mods:accessCondition type restrictions on use displayLabel Rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
mods:identifier OCLC 01764817
mods:languageTerm text English
mods:physicalLocation Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
code UF
mods:name personal
mods:namePart Dodge, Mary Mapes
date 1830-1905
mods:roleTerm authority marcrelator Creator
mods:note Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
"A monthly magazine for boys and girls."
Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
funding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
mods:publisher Scribner,
mods:placeTerm New York
mods:dateIssued November 1884
mods:recordIdentifier source ufdc UF00065513_00150
mods:recordContentSource University of Florida
mods:relatedItem original
mods:extent 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
mods:title St. Nicholas.
mods:detail Enum1
mods:caption Vol. 12
mods:number 12
No. 1
mods:topic Children's literature
Literature for Children
St. Nicholas.
Saint Nicholas
mods:typeOfResource text
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2 No. 1
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METS:structMap STRUCT1 mixed
D1 Front Cover
P1 Page
D2 The princess's holiday Poem
P5 3
D3 His one fault Chapter
P6 4
P7 5
P8 6
P9 7
P10 8
P11 9
P12 10
D4 cooking class
P13 11
P15 13
P16 14
P17 15
P18 16
P19 17
D5 Lorraine's reason
P21 19
P22 20
P23 21
P24 22
P25 23
P26 24
D6 Willow-ware
P27 25
P28 26
P29 27
D7 A startling discovery (picture)
P30 28
P31 29
P32 30
P33 31
D8 isle content
P35 33
P36 34
P37 35
P38 36
P39 37
D9 house that Jack built
P40 38
P41 39
P42 40
P43 41
P44 42
P45 43
P46 44
P47 45
D10 queer coasting-place
P48 46
D11 Little mischief
P49 47
D12 Asking a blessing
P50 48
D13 bicycle boys
P51 49
P52 50
P53 51
P54 52
D14 dozen little dolls
P55 53
D15 Tea-cup lore
P56 54
P57 55
D16 Among the law-makers
P58 56
P59 57
P60 58
P61 59
P62 60
P63 61
P64 62
D17 One, two, three
P65 63
D18 Quite prudent
P66 64
D19 Work and play for young folk: Metallic band-work nails in decoration
P67 65
P68 66
P69 67
D20 first convention Agassiz association
P71 69
D21 For very folk
P72 70
P73 71
D22 Nicholas almanac
P74 72
D27 Falling leaves
P75 73
D23 Jack-in-the-pulpit
P76 74
D24 riddle-box
P77 75
P78 76
D25 letter-box
P79 77
P80 78
P81 79
P82 80
D26 Back
D28 Spine
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St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00150
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Portion of 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
Subjects / Keywords: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
serial   ( sobekcm )
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
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
System ID: UF00065513:00150
 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 princess's holiday
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
    His one fault
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    The cooking class
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
    Lorraine's reason - Personally conducted
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
    A startling discovery (picture) - Mikkel
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
    The isle of content - The cruise of the pirate-ship "Moonraker"
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
    The house that Jack built
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    A queer coasting-place
        Page 46
    Little mischief
        Page 47
    Asking a blessing (picture)
        Page 48
    The bicycle boys - Ready for business
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
    A dozen little dolls
        Page 53
    Tea-cup lore
        Page 54
        Page 55
    Among the law-makers
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
    One, two, three
        Page 63
    Quite prudent
        Page 64
    Work and play for young folk: Metallic band-work and nails in decoration
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
    The first convention of the Agassiz association
        Page 68
        Page 69
    For very little folk
        Page 70
        Page 71
    The St. Nicholas almanac
        Page 72
    Falling leaves
        Page 73
        Page 74
    The riddle-box
        Page 75
        Page 76
    The letter-box
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


VOL. XII. NOVEMBER, 1884. No. I.

[Copyright, 1884, by THE CENTURY CO.]



UP from broidery frame and book
The Princess lifted a longing look.
Green were the fields that stretched before
The castle gate and the castle door;
And soft and clear the tinkling call
Of sheep-bells over the castle wall;
And sweetly, cheerily rose the song
Of the shepherd lad, as he strolled along
By his nibbling flocks:-" Come hither, come
He lightly sang. And whither, and whither
I wander, I wander, come follow, come follow!
Over the field and into the hollow "

Down went broidery frame and book
From the Princess' hands; and "Look, oh,
She bitterly cried to her maidens there,-
" At the beautiful world, so fresh and fair,
From which we are shut out, day after day!
Oh, what would I give to go or stay,
Hither and thither, away at my will!
To follow and follow over the hill,
Where birds are singing, and sheep-bells ring-
And lambkins over the grass are springing!

" The meanest peasant may have his will,
To follow and follow over the hill;
But I, because I 'm a Princess born,
In tiresome state from morn to morn
VOL. XII.--i.

Must wait, before I can go or stay,
For lackey and guard to guide my way!
Oh, what would I give to have my will
For once, just once, and over the hill,
And through the long, sweet meadowy grass
To scamper, as free as a peasant lass!"

What was it?-Did somebody whisper there?
Or was it a bird that, skimming the air,
Wickedly dropped a secret word
That nobody but the Princess heard?
For up from broidery frame and book
She suddenly springs with a joyous look;
"And listen !" she cries, Oh, listen to me !
This is a day of victory!
For this day year the good news came
That the brave French troops had put to shame
The Spanish foe, and I heard him say-
My father, the King-that on this day,
Sinner and saint, year after year,
Should wander free, with never a fear,
On the King's highway, till the sun had set."-
She laughed a light, low laugh.-" 'T is yet
Two hours and more ere the sun goes down,
And the King comes back from the market-
Where he went this morn;-two hours and more.
And the gate is wide at the castle door "

They ranked themselves from head to foot
In gay disguise-a page's boot


INK,,4, ,
[ ^ llp v," in- 'b :l ,r.?T .frnt,> v> r.a' r- -'- -' ,b .

And doublet fine to take the place
Of silken shoon and the flowing grace
Of a satin gown.-Then down they bore,
These maiden troops, to the castle door.

The grim old warders frowned and stared;
The pages laughed; the maids looked scared.
But the merry girl-troopers carried the day,
For who should say a Princess "Nay" ?


" But what if the King should come ? one said,
Shaking her little golden head;
"What if the King should come, alack,
Before we are safely, snugly back?"

The Princess stopped in her merry race.-
"The King?" she cried, with an arch grimace,
"Let the King be told, if the King forgets,
That through this day, till the June sun sets,




The broad highway is an open way,
Where the Princess takes her holiday."

Then, over the hills and into the ho:lk:.i-
Where sheep-bells ring, they follow ,ind
The sun is fierce and the wind is strong,
Yet "Hither, come hither!" the shep-
herd's song
Beckons and beckons, 'now low, now loud.
But the white dust blows in a swirling cloud,
And who would have thought the way so long
To follow and follow a shepherd's song?

For it looked so near, the way he went,
When one from a palace window leant,
So near, so near,- and now so far!
The palace window shines like a star;
And the meadowy grass that smelled so sweet,
How it trips and tangles the tender feet!
And the hills, that seemed so smooth, are set
With stubble and thorn that prick and fret.

" Heigho, and heigho!" the Princess cries,
As she brushes the blinding dust from her eyes,
" Suppose we turn on our homeward way;
It must be near to the set of day! "

'*--^j -/; ^< ~ y ^ ^ .*r -

Torn and draggled, the little pack
Of truant troopers wandered back-
Torn and draggled, weary and spent,
Older and wiser than when they went.

The Princess gained her chamber door,
And out of her window leaned once more.
" Heigho, and heigho! she softly sighed,
SThe world is fair and the world is wide
For peasant and prince; but let who will
Follow and follow over the hill,
I 've had enough, for one long day,
Of my own sweet will and the King's high-
way !





-_ --.--- -- -- =



"LET the boy come and live with me, and I
will be a father to him," said Uncle Gray.
He was a hook-nosed, wiry man, with weather-
beaten cheeks, and a voice cracked by asthma,
and made still more harsh by driving slow oxen
all his life. The cheeks twitched a little, how-
ever, and there was an unwonted softness in his
tones, as he leaned back in his chair and ad-
dressed these words to the weeping woman on
the sofa.
The weeping woman was his wife's brother's
wife, or rather widow; for it was now nine days
since Christopher Downimede, the village tin-
smith, had scratched his thumb with a ragged-
edged piece of metal, and three days since he
had been carried to his grave, a victim of that
mysterious and terrible disease, lockjaw.
The boy alluded to was his son Christopher,
better known in the village by his nickname, Kit;

now sixteen years old, and capable, it was thought,
of beginning to earn his own living.
This it seemed quite necessary that he should
do; for the late Mr. Downimede, although a
thrifty mechanic, had spent his earnings in the
support of his family, and left but little prop-
erty, except some stock-in-trade and the house
they lived in.
He can come and live with me," said Uncle
Gray, and be a farmer; I shall be glad enough
to have somebody to shift the care and burden
on in a few years. You can keep the younger
children in school, rent a part of your house, and
take in a little sewin', and, I guess, get along.
Here, Christopher Christopher !"
Hearing his uncle call, Kit, who was outside,
came into the house. He was a rather bashful
boy, with plump, red cheeks, which showed a
distressing tendency to blush on occasions of the
least embarrassment, but which had been looking
unusually colorless since the shocking calamity



1884.1 HIS ONE FAULT. 5

that had bereft him of the kindest of fathers. He
was a little awed at the sight of his mother in tears,
and of his uncle's solemn visage, but he advanced
manfully to hear the result of the consultation.
I 've be'n thinking' o' your case, Christopher,"
said Uncle Gray, and talking' to your ma about
you. What's your idee o' gett'n' a livin' ?"
Poor Kit had to confess that he had n't any
ideas on the subject.
"You have n't any gre't hankerin' after an
education, have ye ?" said Uncle Gray.
"I don't know that I care to go to college,"
Kit replied. "Though if Pa had lived,"-he
choked a little,-" I suppose I should have kept
on going to school two or three years longer."
"To be sure; if he had lived." Uncle Gray
coughed to clear his throat. "But as 't is, it's
time for you to be considering' what you're a-goin'
to make of yourself. Ye don't fancy his trade
pa'tic'larly, do ye ?"
"I don't fancy it at all," said Kit. I don't
care to be a tinner."
So I thought. And I don't blame ye. Wal,
now," continued Uncle Gray, "how would ye
like the farm ?"
The farm ? said Kit. "What farm ?"
Wal, f'r instance, my farm. I've got a good
place for ye there, if you'd like to come. We've
no boys of our own, since Andy died,"- the harsh-
toned voice softened again,-" and your aunt Gray
an' I have be'n thinking' 't would be jest the thing
fer ye to come and live with us, and be like our
own son, and graj'ally slip yer neck into the yoke as
mine slips out. How do ye think ye would like it?"
Kit had pleasant recollections of the farm, from
having visited it often in sugar-making time and
huckleberry time, and enjoyed the hospitalities of
Uncle and Aunt Gray.
"I think I should like it," he said, "only "-he
caught his breath-" I don't want to leave Ma-
just now."
"That's right, that's right," said Uncle Gray
approvingly. Glad to hear ye say that. But
ye can't live tied to her apron-strings all your life.
It 's in the natur' of things that children, 'specially
boys, should strike out and do for themselves.
Though yer livin' with me '11 be a'most like bein'
't home; you can come and see your ma, and
your ma can come and see you, often enough.
Think on't, will ye ? And le' me know to-morrow,
when I '11 be round ag'in."
Think of it Kit did, with many a pang of grief
at the recollection of his father, who had been so
much more to him than he had ever dreamed until
he came to need his love and counsel.
If he were only here to tell me what I 'd bet-
ter do!" he said to his mother, as they talked the

matter over that night, in the sad loneliness of
their little home. I can't make it seem that he
never will be here any more. But I know I shall
have to depend upon myself now."
"Yes, my son," said the widow in a stifled
voice. There never was a more upright man,
nor a more generous man in his family, than your
father, while he lived. But the prop of the house
has been taken away. Heaven knows, I would
gladly keep you with me, and do for you as he
would have done, if it were in my power."
The mother and son sobbed softly together in
the gloomy silence. Then Kit said:
"There's no use wishing things could be differ-
ent. I know I have got my living to work for, and
I may as well work for it on Uncle Gray's farm
as anywhere."
Uncle and Aunt Gray have always been kind
to you," suggested the widow.
"Yes, in their fashion," said Kit. "They're
good-hearted folks. But a dollar looks pretty big
to them. I believe the boy Uncle Gray is a father
to," he added, after a little reflection, "will have
to earn every dollar he gets of him. He and Aunt
Gray work hard themselves, and don't believe
much in anybody's sitting around on the clover-
banks, watching the bees and butterflies. Even
when I've been visiting them, they have made me
earn my board by doing lots of little chores. But I
never much cared; I like the farm, and I 've had
good times out there. May be, I 'd better go; for
I don't know what else I can do. I shall be near
you, and if I do well I can help you. Perhaps I
can make a home for us all some day."
When Uncle Gray called the next morning, he
was "rejoiced," as he said, to hear that Kit had
come to so sensible a conclusion. The widow was
anxious to know just what he proposed to do for
her boy, in the way of being a father to him ";
but the worthy farmer was not prepared to meet
that point.
Wait till we see how he takes hold," he said.
If he does well by me, I 'll do well by him; you
may count on that. The only way will be for him
to come and try it a few months; then we can
settle the matter more definitely. We'll see how
useful he makes himself."
The widow gave her boy much good advice
when the time for parting with him arrived.
"You're a smart boy, Christopher, and you're
a well-meaningboy. You're no shirk; and you 're
strong and active. But you have one fault, which
I'm afraid will try your uncle's patience, as it has
often tried your father's and mine your heedless-
ness. Why is it you are sometimes so forgetful of
things, right under your eyes, that you are ex-
pected to attend to ?"


"I don't know," said Kit, ruefully. But I
seem to be thinking of something else."
You must try not to be so absent-minded,"
the widow resumed, in a tone more of entreaty
than of chiding. "'Your uncle will not put up with
your fault as your father and I have done. If you
were a stupid boy, we should n't expect so much
of you. But you're anything but stupid; you're
one of the brightest boys I ever saw, when you
have your wits about you."
Kit could not forbear a smile of gratification at
this compliment, which was not ill-deserved. He
had indeed a village reputation for his witty retorts.
"HIave you heard Kit's last joke?" was a com-
mon query among the East Adam boys, always
sure to excite curiosity and provoke a laugh.

IT was corn-planting time, and Kit had a good
chance, to begin with, to show his uncle how
"useful he could be on the farm. He took the
place of one hired man at the start, and lamed
his back and blistered his hands, and was home-
sick enough, during the first week.
He was a plucky lad, however; and when he
went home on Sunday, he did not show his blisters,
nor complain to his mother of the difference be-
tween living on the farm and visiting it occasion-
ally. And when she said, with motherly concern,
that she feared the work was too hard for him, he
replied stoutly: "''It's pretty hard,' as the rat
said of the old cheese-rind; 'but I guess I can
stand it, if the cheese can.' I 'm not like the
boy who was apprenticed to a blacksmith, and,
after blowing the bellows two days, said he was
sorry he had learned the trade."
The widow was cheered to see her boy in such
brave spirits, and told him, with an affectionate
kiss, that he was the hope of her life.
Inwardly resolved that she should not be disap-
pointed in him, he returned to the farm, and soon
worked off the lameness of his back, his home-
sickness, and the tenderness of his palms. His
muscles hardened, his joints grew strong, his
hands became callous, and the longer he staid
the better contented he was with the place.
His one serious fault clung to him, however, and
sorely vexed Uncle Gray, who one day declared:
You 're as willing' a youngster as ever I saw;
but the beatermost dunderpate in all creation.
Now, there 's that grass-hook; ye had it a-cutt'n'
off the thistle-tops, and ye dropped it some-
where, and, like as not, we never shall see it
again. Why can't ye take care o' things ? "
I don't know," Kit murmured penitently. I

"Ye forgit!" Uncle Gray repeated sternly.
"Ye lost the whetstone afore that; and I should
think I scolded ye enough fer 't, so ye 'd 'a' be'n a
little mite more careful."
I should think so, too !" replied Christopher.
"And where, f'r instance, do you think I found
the iron rake that disappeared so strangely ? A-
hangin' in the apple-tree, jest where you had
used it last, a-pokin' at the worms' nests. It
never '11 do in the world to go on at this rate !
Graj'ally things '11 go, and I sha'n't have a tool
to lay my hands on, next I know. Be ye asleep,
or what is the matter?"
Kit smarted under these reproofs all the more
because he felt they were deserved. He answered
I don't suppose I am a downright fool; but I
do believe there is afool-streak in me. If I get
my mind on one thing, I go off in a sort of dream,
and mind nothing else. I 'll try to do better."
"You must!" Uncle Gray insisted. "I want
a boy I can depend on; and I never can depend
on one that goes blunderin' through the world in
this way. Now, take my advice, and mind what
you 're up to "
Kit improved somewhat after this. Yet if a
shovel was mislaid, or a heifer overlooked in the
milking, or a calf left to bawl for its supper, Kit
was always the culprit.
So anxious was he to correct his bad habit that
he used often to askhimself in the evening if there
was anything he had neglected during the day,
and would punish himself by attending to it then,
if it were not too late. In this way he reminded
himself, one night as he was going to bed, that
when he took care of the horse after his uncle
drove home from the village, he had knocked the
whip out of the wagon, and had forgotten to pick
it up.
"I know just where it is," he said to himself;
"and I'm not going to let Uncle Gray find it
there in the morning and give me a scolding."
He had undressed and put out the light. But
he pulled his clothes on again in the dark, and
went softly down-stairs, not meaning to betray his
blunder by disturbing the old folk, who had also
He groped his way to the kitchen, and ran his
fingers along the door-frame for the key of the
stable, which was left there. He found it hanging
securely on its nail; for if there was one thing
which Uncle Gray would never trust to anybody
else, but always looked after himself, it was the
locking up, at bed-time, of his barn and dwelling.
The night was dark; for though there was a
moon, according to the almanac, the sky threat-
ened rain, and a few sprinkles fell on Kit's hand as



he reached out, feeling for the stable-door. This
he unlocked, and passed on into the barn, where
he felt the buggy all over, to make sure that he
had not, in an absent-minded way, put the whip
back into it. No; it must be on the grass outside
where it fell.
He had kicked about in search of it as he ap-
proached the barn; but he now went out again
and made a more thorough exploration with both
feet and hands. He was rewarded after a little
while by entangling his toes in the lash (he was
barefoot) ; and with the comfortable consciousness
of duty done, having put the whip in place, he
groped his way back into the house.
As he was on his way to the chamber-stairs, his
uncle called out to him: "'S that you, Christo-
pher ? "
Yes, sir," Kit replied, and immediately turned
to the water-pail, to provide himself with an ex-
cuse for his untimely movements.
"What are you prowling about the house after
bed-time for ? Uncle Gray demanded.
I 'm getting a drink of water," Kit said, suit-
ing the action to the word.
Could n't you think of that afore you went to
bed ?" growled Uncle Gray. "I wonder what you
will forgit next! "
Alas, what had not Kit already forgotten in his
anxiety to find the whip and get back to bed with-
out arousing the old folks! The morning was to
He was awakened shortly after day-break by his
uncle pounding on the stairs with a cane, which he
kept for the purpose, and calling, Come, boy,
time to be stirring' Goin' t' stay a-bed all day? "
Kit made a yawning answer, and was leisurely
pulling on his trousers, when Uncle Gray came
again to the stair-way, and the voice, rendered
harsh by asthma and long experience in driving
sluggish oxen, thundered forth:
"Where's the key to the stable? D' ye know
anything about it ? "
Is n't it there? stammered the boy, remem-
bering with consternation that he had used the key
the night before, but utterly unable to remember
what he had done with it.
There? Where ? shouted the angry uncle.
Hanging by the door," faltered Kit.
He fumbled in his pockets as he sat on the bed,
frightened, half-dressed, his hair tumbled, a pict-
ure of comical dismay, which he perceived by the
dim light when he raised his eyes to the looking-
glass on the bare wall; although he did not notice
anything very comical in it at the time.
"It aint hangin' by the door! said Uncle
Gray; "though I'm sure I put it there last night.
Have you had it since ? "

I-I believe-I did take it," the guilty one
confessed, appearing at the head of the gloomy
stair-way, jacket in hand. But I thought I put it
back again."
"Thought ye put it back ag'in echoed Uncle
Gray with savage sarcasm. I wonder ye don't
forgit to breathe some time. Look in yer pockets !"
Kit fumbled again helplessly.
Ye did n't leave it in the stable-door, did ye ?"
I don't know. I can't remember. I'm afraid
I did! he miserably confessed.
Don't know! can't remember afraid ye did "
the ox-compelling voice repeated, yet in tones the
laziest ox, or indeed any creature on that well-
ordered farm, except the beatermost dunderpate
in all creation," had never yet called forth.
Uncle Gray withdrew, storming; and Kit, stoop-
ing on the topmost stair, hurriedly putting on his
shoes, could trace him all the way through sitting-
room and kitchen, in the direction of the stable,
by the wrathful ejaculations he let fall, dying away
like rattling thunder in the distance.
Kit followed without his hat, in the chill dawn,
aware that retribution awaited him, but hoping
that no serious harm had come of his neglect.
That hope was quickly dispelled, however, as he
approached the stable.
His uncle had found the door unlocked, with the
key in it. He had entered in haste, and was now
rushing out again, his eyes glaring excitedly, and
his features in a snarl of terrible wrinkles.
Now see what's come o' your-" he began, but
choked, or hesitated for a word weighty enough to
express his wrath and alarm; then spluttered forth:
At the same time he pointed at an empty stall.
The guilty Christopher hurried forward and
looked in. It was the stall of Dandy Jim, the one
serviceable horse on the place; and the horse had
vanished in the night.


"HAS anything happened?" said Aunt Gray,
a stoutish woman, with a large, round, kindly face,
hooking her dress as she came out of the house,
attracted by the little drama at the stable-door.
Instead of answering her, Uncle Gray turned
with fresh indignation on Kit.
"What ever possessed ye to come out and un-
lock the barn after I had once locked it up for
the night ?"
Kit explained that it was to pick up and put
away the whip.
"That was mighty important!" exclaimed
Uncle Gray. "Would n't the whip stay where it
was till morning and no gre't harm done?"


"I suppose so," replied Kit. "But I had made
up my mind to take care of things the moment I
thought of them; and I thought of that just as I
was going to bed. I meant it for the best!"
added the conscience-smitten boy.
"Meant it for the best And so you saved the
whip and let the horse be stole! I never! And
with a gesture of impatience Uncle Gray turned
back into the barn.
What! ejaculated Aunt Gray, who had fin-
ished hooking her dress by this time,-a some-
what formidable operation,- the hoss has n't
been stole, has he? "
"I hope not; I don't see how he can have
been," said Kit. "To think the thief should come
just the very night when the door was left un-
locked -I can't believe it !."
"You don't know how many times thieves may
have come and found the door locked," said Aunt
Gray. "Though it don't seem to me Dandy can
be really stole! Pa! "-for so she called her hus-
band,-"be ye sure ? "
Sure 's I want to be, and a good deal more
so," he replied. The mare is there, but the hoss
is gone, stole or not; and the 'saddle and best
bridle gone with him. A hundred and eighty
dollars right out of my pocket, if it's a penny "
He turned once more on Kit. "The idee of
your coming' out here at nine o'clock, unlockin' the
stable, and leavin'.the key in the door, as if to invite
tramps and vagabonds to walk in and help them-
selves I I've no patience with such stupidity!"
"Neither have I!" said Kit, with the candor
of abject remorse. But I don't know how I am
to cure myself of it, unless I go and jump into the
pond with a plowshare hitched to my neck. I did
mean to do better !"
Seeing his tears begin to fall, Aunt Gray said,
Your coming' out here for the whip shows you
did mean to, though to patch a little hole you
sp'ilt cloth that would have made a garment.
You 're like the man that went to stop a little leak
o' cider, and burst the hoops off his barrel. But
there 's no use cryin' for spilt milk, nor scoldin'
about it, neither. If the hoss is stole, the next
thing to be done is to try to find him. Here's
Abram; mebbe he knows something that '11 clear
up the mystery."
Abram was the hired man, who lived in his
own home a mile away, and used to come up to
the farm every morning. He was as much sur-
prised as anybody to learn that Dandy Jim was
gone, with saddle and bridle; and he had to go
and look the stalls and pens all over before he
would be convinced. Then he suddenly ex-
claimed: "Jingo i "

"What is it?" Uncle Gray asked eagerly.
The hoss-tracks I see coming' up from the vil-
lage This accounts for 'em! "
"Did you see hoss-tracks?" Aunt Gray in-
quired; while Uncle Gray said frowningly that
" hoss-tracks were plenty enough "; the roads
were "full of 'em."
"But not such tracks as I saw this morning, "
replied Abram. There was a light rain some
time in the night, and these tracks were made
afterward, as you could see plain enough. I
come up the cow-lane, or I might, likely, have
followed 'em to your front gate."
Here they are cried Kit, who was already
searching the drive-way which led from the barn,
past the house, to the road. "Fresh tracks after
the rain There they go there there !"
He was off like a hound on a scent, following
the tracks to the road. Uncle Gray went more
slowly, scrutinizing them with a sight not so keen,
and muttering discouragingly:
I guess they 're Dandy's tracks, sure enough;
but what 's.the use.of any more evidence that I 've
lost a hoss? I was sure on't before."
We can track him !" cried Kit earnestly.
"A sight of good that '11 do !" said Uncle Gray.
"You may track him a mile or so; but what '11
ye do, f'r instance, when ye find the roads full of
all sorts of tracks, as they will be long 'fore you
come in sight of the thief? "
"Here are a man's tracks, too !" exclaimed
Kit. He led Dandy past the gate; and here 's
where he mounted. I 'm going to see which way
he has gone, before it's too late. I wish the
mare was fit to ride!"
I would n't trust her with ye," was Uncle
Gray's grim response; such a blunderhead as
you be !"
But I am going, anyway Kit declared.
"Nobody'll hinder ye," growled Uncle Gray.
Go, if ye wan' to; and I guess, on the whole, ye
better not come back withoutt the hoss."
Well! I wont !" said Kit, desperately.
"Don't say that, Christopher !" interposed
Aunt Gray. Don't talk that way, Pa! you don't
mean it."
"Yes, I do i I'm tired of the boy's blunderin',
blunderin' I don't want to see him ag'in withoutt
he brings back Dandy, which, I guess, he '11 do
about next day after never."
Christopher !" Aunt Gray called again, rais-
ing her voice to be heard in the.distance; wait
for a mouthful of breakfast !"
"I don't want any breakfast," Kit answered, as
he ran.
"Come back for your hat!" screamed Aunt



1884.1 HIS ONE FAULT. 9

Kit did not hear; nor had he the least idea
that he had started off on his hopeless chase after
a tolerably well-mounted rogue, without a hat to
his uncombed head.
He scanned the tracks carefully as he went,
noting the difference between those of the hind
feet, which were shod, and those of the fore.feet
which were not, in places where fore foot and
hind foot had left separate prints. He also ob-
served that Dandy had started off evidently on a
walk, then struck into a trot, and finally been
urged to a gallop, when he had gone well out of
hearing from the house; his strides growing

-he gasped for breath-" right by the house
here. I am on his track."
My dear boy replied the widow, whose first
concern was not for the loss of the horse, you
will kill yourself with running! "
"Never fear! said Kit. "I am all right-
only" panting again I started off without my
breakfast. Give me a doughnut or two to put in
my pocket-to eat-when I have a chance."
On his way to the village, he had had time to
reflect that he very likely had an all-day's chase
before him, and that his strength would not hold
out without food. He had also discovered the


longer, and his feet throwing up the dirt of the
road-way more plentifully as his speed increased.
The widow Downimede had barely risen that
morning, and her door was still unfastened, when
it was shaken and pounded violently, and she
heard a voice calling: Hallo! Mother! Mother !"
"It is Christopher!" she exclaimed in very
great astonishment, which was not lessened, be
sure, when she hastened to open the door and
saw him standing there, hatless, with wild eyes
and hair, flushed with running, and out of breath.
"Why, my child!" she cried, "what is the
"Don't be frightened," he said. "Uncle's
horse has been stolen. The thief has ridden him"

absence of his hat, before reminded of it by his
"Yes," he said, putting up his hand to his
tossed hair, "that's one thing I stopped for-my
base-ball cap. Where is it?" For, of course, so
heedless a lad as Kit was careless of any of his thin gs
at home, and had to ask his mother for them.
"I '11 find it," she replied. "But you must
eat something-a bowl of bread and milk. Mr.
Pierce has just left our pint. Take it all."
The can was on the doorstep. Kit took it up
and handed it to her, declaring at the same time
that he could not stop to eat, nor even wait for his
cap unless she could put her hand on it at once.
For I must find that horse," he said. if such


a thing is. possible. It was my fault that he was
stolen, and I am not to go back to Uncle Gray's
without him."
"Why how did it happen ?" asked his mother.
I left the stable-door unlocked. Uncle Gray
was mad as fury, and I don't blame him. I some-
times think I 'm half a fool! And poor Kit burst
into tears of self-hatred and grief.
The widow tried to soothe him, as she urged him
into the house and poured the milk into a bowl
on the table before him; yet she could not help
speaking reproachfully of his fault.
I was afraid it would bring you into trouble;
and I warned you,-don't you remember I warned
you, Christopher? And now if your uncle has cast
you off on account of it, I don't know what we are
going to do. I'm so sorry, so sorry! for I don't
see the least chance of your finding the horse, un-
less you have a still faster one to ride."
"Well, I have n't that, and I can't afford to
hire one," said Kit, gulping down the milk, for he
found that he was thirsty, if not hungry. "I'll
take my chances; and if I don't have a horse to

ride, why, then I sha'n't be bothered with one.
The thief is not many hours ahead of me, for he
started after it stopped raining."
"It rained till two o'clock, and after," said the
widow, stuffing his pockets with doubled slices of
buttered bread. "I was awake; and I remember
now, I heard a horse clattering fast along the
street about then. I thought of your father's sud-
den illness, and wondered who was riding fast for
the doctor. I think of your father so much, night
and day, Christopher "
Her mind was running off upon her great sor-
row; but Kit could not stop to hear. He seized
the cap which, with a housekeeper's instinct, she
had found and handed him; clapped it on his
frizzly pate, took another swallow of milk and a
bite of bread, allowing her at the same time to
drop some small change into his pocket,-all she
had; then he rushed out of the house.
The tracks were still traceable, and they led
straight through the village; growing more and
more indistinct beyond, however, as they mingled
with other tracks made since the rain.

(To be continued )





4%At I




A YOUNG girl in a little cap and a big apron sat
poring over a cook-book, with a face full of the
deepest anxiety. She had the kitchen to herself, for
Mamma was out for the day, and cook was off duty.
So Edith could fuss to her heart's content. She
belonged to a cooking class, the members of which
were to have a luncheon at two o'clock with the
girl next door; and now the all-absorbing question
was What shall I make? Turning the pages
of the well-used book, she talked to herself as. the
various recipes met her eye.
Lobster-salad and chicken-croquettes I've had,
and neither were very good. Now, I want to dis-
tinguish myself by something very nice. I'd try
a meat-porcupine or a mutton-duck if there were
time; but they are fussy, and ought to be re-
hearsed before they are given to the class. Bavarian
cream needs berries and whipped cream, and I
will not tire my arms beating eggs. 'Apricots
i la Neige' is an easy thing and wholesome, but
the girls '11 not like it, I know, as well as some
rich thing that will make them ill, as Carrie's
plum-pudding did. A little meat-dish is best for
lunch. I'd try sweet-breads and bacon, if I did
n't hate to burn my face and scent my clothes,
frying. Birds are fine; let me see if I can do
larded grouse. No, I don't like to touch that
cold, fat stuff. Potted pigeons-the very thing 1!
We had that in our last lesson, .but the girls are
all crazy about puff-paste, so they wont try

pigeons. Why did n't I think of it at once? -
for we have them in the house, and don't want
them to-day, Mamma being called away. All
ready, too; so nice! I do detest to pick and
clean birds. 'Simmer from one to three hours.'
Plenty of time. I'll do it! La, la, la! "
And away skipped Edith in high spirits, for she
did not like to cook, yet wished to stand well with
the class, some members of which were very
ambitious, and now and then succeeded with an
elaborate dish, more by good luck than skill.
Six plump birds were laid out on a platter, with
their legs folded in the most pathetic manner.
These Edith bore away in triumph to the kitchen,
and opening the book before her, she went to work
energetically, resigning herself to frying the pork
and cutting up the onion, which she had over-
looked when hastily reading the recipe. In time
they were stuffed, the legs tied down to the tails,
the birds browned in the stew-pan, and put to
simmer with a pinch of herbs.
"Now I can clear up, and rest a bit. If I ever
have to work for a living, I '11 not be a cook," said
Edith, with a sigh of weariness, as she washed her
dishes, wondering how there could be so many;
for no careless Irish girl would have made a greater
clutter over this small job than this young lady
who had not yet learned one of the most important
things that a cook should know.
The bell rang just as she finished and was


planning to lie and rest on the dining-room sofa
till it was time to take up her pigeons.
Please say that I 'm engaged," she whispered,
as the maid passed on her way to the door.
It's your cousin, Miss, from the country, and
she has a trunk with her. Of course she's to come
in ?" asked Maria, coming back in a moment.
"Oh, dear me! I forgot all about Patty.
Mamma said any day this week, and this is the
most inconvenient one of the seven. Of course
she must come in. Go and tell her I'll be there
in a minute," answered Edith, too well bred not
to give even an unwelcome guest a kindly greeting.
Whisking off cap and apron, and taking a last
look at the birds, just beginning to send forth a
savory steam, she went to meet her cousin.
Patty was a rosy country lass of sixteen, plainly
dressed and rather shy, but a sweet, sensible little
body, with a fresh, rustic air which marked her
for a field-flower at once.
"How do you do, dear? I'm so sorry Mamma
is away; she was called to a sick friend in a
hurry. But I'm here, and glad to see you. I've
an engagement at two, and you shall go with me.
It's only a lunch close by, with a party of girls;
I'll tell you about it upstairs."
Chatting away, Edith led Patty up to the pretty
room ready for her, and soon both were laughing
over a lively account of the exploits of the cooking
class. Suddenly, in the midst of the cream-pie
which had been her great success, and almost the
death of all who partook thereof, Edith paused,
sniffed the air, and crying tragically, They are
burning They are burning rushed down-stairs
as if the house were on fire.
Much alarmed, Patty hurried after her, guided
to the kitchen by the sound of lamentation. There'
she found Edith hanging over a stew-pan, with
anguish in her face and despair in her voice, as
she breathlessly explained the cause of her flight.
My pigeons! Are they burnt? After all my
trouble- I shall be heart-broken if they are spoilt.":
Reluctantly Patty owned that a slight flavor of
scorch did pervade the air, but suggested that an ad-
ditional mite of seasoningwould conceal the sad fact.
"I 'll try it. Do you love to cook? Don't you
want to make something for the class? It would
please the girls, and make up for my poor burnt
pigeons," said Edith, as she skimmed the broth
and added pepper and salt with a lavish hand.
"I don't know anything about pigeons, except
how to feed and pet them," answered Patty. We
don't eat ours. I can cook plain dishes and make
all kinds of bread. Would biscuit or tea-cake do ? "
Patty looked so pleased at the idea of contribut-
ing to the feast, that Edith could not bear to tell
her that hot biscuits and tea-cake were not just

" the thing" for a city lunch. She accepted the
offer, and Patty fell to work so neatly and skillfully
that, by the time the pigeons were done, two pan-
fuls of delicious little biscuit were baked, and folded
in a nice napkin ready to carry off in the porcelain
plate with a wreath of roses painted on it.
In spite of all her flavoring, the burnt odor and
taste still seemed to linger about Edith's dish;
but fondly hoping that no one would perceive
it, she dressed hastily, gave Patty a touch here
and there, and set forth at the appointed time to
Augusta's lunch.
Six girls belonged to this class, and the rule was
for each to bring her contribution and set it on the
table prepared to receive them all; then, when the
number was complete, the covers were raised, the
dishes examined, eaten (if possible), and pro-
nounced upon, the prize being awarded to the
best. The girl at whose house the lunch was
given provided the prize, which was often both
pretty and valuable.
On this occasion a rich bouquet of Jacqueminot
roses in a lovely vase ornamented the middle
of the table, and the eyes of all rested admiringly
upon it, as the seven girls gathered around, after
depositing their dishes.
Patty had been kindly welcomed, and soon
forgot her shyness, in wonder at the handsome
dresses, graceful manners, and lively gossip of the
girls. A pleasant, merry set, all wearing the uni-
form of the class,-dainty white aprons, and co-
quettish caps with many-colored ribbons, like the
maid-servants on the stage. At the sound of a silver
bell, each took her place before the covered dish
which bore her name, and when Augusta said,
" Ladies, we will begin," off went napkins, silver
covers, white paper, or whatever hid the contribu-
tions from longing eyes. A momentof deep silence,
while quick glances took in the prospect, and then
a unanimous explosion of laughter followed; for
six platters of potted pigeons stood upon the board,
with nothing but the flowers to break the ludicrous
monotony of the scene !
How they laughed! For a time they could do
nothing else; because if one tried to explain, she
broke down and joined in the gale of merriment
again quite helplessly. They made such a noise
that Augusta's mamma peeped in to see what
was the matter. Six agitated hands pointed to
the comical sight on the table, which looked as
if a flight .of potted pigeons had alighted there,
and six breathless voices cried in a chorus: Is
n't it funny ? Don't tell "
Much amused, the good lady retired to enjoy
the joke alone, while the exhausted girls wiped
their eyes and began to talk, all at once. Such a
clatter! But out of it all, Patty evolved the fact



that each had meant to surprise the rest,- and
certainly had succeeded.
I tried puff-paste," said Augusta, fanning her
hot face.
So did I cried the others.
And it was a dead failure."
So was mine echoed the voices.
Then I thought I 'd make the other dish we
had that day "
"Just what I did! "
Feeling sure you all would try the pastry, and
perhaps get on better than I."
"Exactly like me!" and a fresh laugh ended
this general confession.
Now we must eat our pigeons, as we have
nothing else, and it is against the rule to add from
outside stores. I propose that each girl passes her
dish around; then we all can criticise it, and so
get some good out of this very funny lunch.
Augusta's plan was carried out; and all being
hungry after their unusual exertions, the girls fell
upon the unfortunate birds like so many famished
creatures. The first one went very well, but when
the dishes were passed again, each taster looked
at it anxiously; for none were very good, there
was nothing to fall back upon, and variety is the
spice of life, as every one knows.
Oh, for a slice of bread! sighed one damsel.
Why did n't we think of it ? asked another.
"I did; but we always have so much cake, I
thought it was foolish to lay in rolls," exclaimed
Augusta, rather mortified at the neglect.
"I expected to have to taste six pies, and one
does n't want bread with pastry, you. know."
As Edith spoke, she suddenly remembered Pat-
ty's biscuit, which had been left on the side-table
by their modest maker, as there seemed to be no
room for them.
Rejoicing now over the rather despised dish,
Edith ran to get it, saying, as she set it in the mid-
dle, with a flourish:
My cousin's contribution. She came so late,
she only had time for that. I'm so glad I took
the liberty) of bringing her and them."
A murmur of welcome greeted the much-desired
addition to the feast, which would have been a
decided failure without it, and the pretty plate
went briskly round, till nothing was left but the
painted roses in it. With this help, the best of the
potted pigeons were eaten, while a lively discussion
went on about what they would have next time.
Let us each tell our dish, and not change. We
shall never learn if we don't keep to one thing till
we do it well. I will choose mince-pie, and bring
a good one, if it takes me all the week to do it,"
said Edith, heroically taking the hardest thing she
could think of, to encourage the others.

Fired by this noble example, each girl pledged
herself to do or die, and a fine list of rich dishes
was made out by these ambitious young cooks.
Then a vote of thanks to Patty was passed, her
biscuit unanimously pronounced the most success-
ful contribution, and the vase presented to the
delighted girl, whose blushes were nearly as deep
as the color of the flowers behind which she tried
to hide them.
Soon after this ceremony the party broke up,
and Edith went home to tell the merry story,
proudly adding that the country cousin had won
the prize.
You rash child, to undertake mince-pie It is
one of the hardest things to make, and about the
most unwholesome when eaten. Read the recipe
and see what you have pledged yourself to do, my
dear," said her mother, much amused at the haps
and mishaps of the cooking class.
Edith opened her book and started bravely off
at Puff-paste "; but by the time she had come
to the end of the three pages devoted to directions
for the making of that indigestible delicacy, her
face was very sober, and when she read aloud the
following recipe for the mince-meat, despair
slowly settled upon her like a cloud.
One cup chopped meat; im cups raisins; i% cups currants;
oi% cups brown sugar; %Y3 cups molasses; 3 cups chopped apples;
I cup meat liquor; 2 tea-spoonfuls salt; 2 tea-spoonfuls cinnamon;
% tea-spoonful mace; % tea-spoonful powdered cloves; I lemon,
grated; 3 piece citron, sliced; 4 cup brandy; 4 cup wine; 3
tea-spoonfuls rose-water.

Oh, my, what a job I shall have to work at
it every day till next Saturday, for the paste alone
will take all the wits I have. I was rash, but I
spoke without thinking, and wanted to do some-
thing really fine. And now I must blunder along
as well as I can," groaned Edith.
I can help about the measuring and weighing
and chopping. I always help mother at Thanks-
giving time, and she makes delicious pies. We
never have mince-pies at any other time, as she
thinks it's bad for us," said Patty, full of sym-
pathy and good-will.
Patty, what are you to take to the lunch? "
asked Edith's mother, smiling at her daughter's
mournful face, bent over the fatal book full of
dainty messes that had tempted the unwary learner
to her doom.
"Only coffee," replied Patty. "I can't make
fancy things, but my coffee is always good. They
said they wanted it, so I offered."
I shall have my pills and powders ready, for if
you all go on at this rate, you will need a dose of
some sort after your lunch. Give your orders,
Edith, and devote your mind to the task. I wish
you good luck and good digestion, my dears."


With that the mamma left the girls to cheer
each other, and to make plans for a daily lesson
till the perfect pie was made.
They certainly did their best, for they began
on Monday, and each morning through the week
went to the mighty task with daily increasing
courage and skill. And they truly needed the
former, for even good-natured Nancy became tired
of having "the young ladies fussing round so
much," and looked cross as the girls appeared in
the kitchen.
Edith's brothers laughed at the various failures
which appeared at table, and dear Mamma grew
weary of tasting pastry and mince-meat in all
stages of progression. But the undaunted damsels
kept on till Saturday came, and then a very supe-
rior pie stood ready to be offered for the inspec-
tion of the class.
I never want to see another," said Edith, as
the girls dressed together, weary, but well satisfied
with their labor; for the pie had been praised by
all beholders, and the fragrance of Patty's coffee
filled the house, as it stood ready to be poured,
hot and clear, into the best silver pot at the last
Well, I feel as if I 'd lived in a spice-mill this
week, or a pastry-cook's kitchen; and I 'm glad
we are done. Your brothers wont get any pie for
a long while, I guess, if it depends on you,"
laughed Patty, putting on the new ribbons her
cousin had given her.
"When Florence's brothers were here last
night, I heard those rascals making all sorts of fun
of us, and Alf said we ought to let them come to
lunch. I scorned the idea, and made their mouths
water, by telling about the good things we were
going to have," said Edith, exulting over the
severe remarks she had made to these gluttonous
young men, who adored pie and yet jeered at un-
fortunate cooks.
Florence, the lunch-giver of the week, had made
her table pretty with a posy at each place, put the
necessary roll in each artistically folded napkin,
and hung the prize from the gas burner,-a large
blue satin bag full of the most delicious bonbons
money could buy. There was some delay about
beginning, as one distracted cook sent word that
her potato-puffs would n't brown, and begged
them to wait for her. So they adjourned to the
parlor, and talked till the flushed but triumphant
Ella arrived with the puffs in fine order.
When all was ready and the covers were raised,
another surprise awaited them; not a merry one,
like the last, but a very serious affair, which pro-
duced domestic warfare in two houses at least. On
each dish lay a card bearing a new name for its
carefully prepared delicacies. The mince-pie was

re-christened "Nightmare," veal cutlets "Dys-
pepsia," escalloped lobster "Fits," lemon sherbet
"Colic," coffee "Palpitation," and so on, even
to the pretty sack of confectionery, which was
labeled "Toothache."
Great was the indignation of the insulted cooks,
and a general cry of Who did. it? arose. The
poor maid who waited on:them declared with tears
that not a soul had been in, and she herself absent
only five minutes in getting the ice-water. Flor-
ence felt that her guests had been insulted, and
promised to find out the wretch and punish him
or her in the most terrible manner. So the irate
young ladies ate their lunch before it cooled, but
forgot to criticise the dishes, so full were they of
wonder at this daring deed. They were just
beginning to calm down, when a loud sneeze
caused a general rush toward the sofa that stood in
a recess of the dining-room. A small boy, nearly
suffocated with suppressed laughter and dust, was
dragged forth, and put on trial without a moment's
delay. Florence was judge, the others jury, and
the unhappy youth, being penned in a corner, was
ordered to tell the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, on penalty of a sound whip-
ping with the big Japanese war-fan that hung on
the wall over his head.
Vainly trying to suppress his giggles, Phil faced
the seven ladies like a man, and told as little as
possible, delighting to torment them, like a true
"Do you know who put those cards there?"
asked Florence, who conducted the examination
of the culprit.
Don't you wish you did? "
Phil Gordon, answer at once."
"Yes, I do."
"Was it Alf? He 's at home Saturdays, and
it's just like a horrid Harvard soph to plague us
It was-not."
Did you see it done "
I did."
"Man, or woman? Mary fibs, and may have
been bribed."
Man," with a chuckle of great glee.
"Do I know him?"
Oh, don't you !"
"Edith's brother Rex?"
No, ma'am."
"Do be a good boy, and tell us! We wont
scold, though it was a very, very rude thing to
"What will you give me ?"
Do you need to be bribed to do your duty?"
Well, it's no fun to hide in that stuffy place,
and sniff things good to eat, and see you make



way with them, without offering a fellow a taste.
Give me a good trial at the lunch, and I '11 see
what I can do for you."
Boys are such gluttons Shall we, girls ?"' said
Florence, turning to her guests.
Yes, we must know," came the unanimous
Then go and eat, you bad boy; but we shall
stand guard over you till you tell us who wrote and
put those insulting cards here."
Florence let out the prisoner, and stood by him
while he ate (in a surprisingly short time) the best
of everything on the table, for he well knew that
such a rare chance would not soon be his again.
Now, give me some of that candy, and I'll
tell," demanded the young Shylock, bound to
make the best of his power while it lasted.
Did you ever see such a little torment? I
can't give the nice bonbons, because they 're a
prize, and we have n't decided who is to have them."
Never mind. Pick out a few and get rid of
him," cried the girls, hovering about their prisoner
and longing to shake the truth out of him.
A handful of caramels was reluctantly bestowed,
and then all waited for the name of the evil-doer
with breathless interest.
"Well," began Phil, with exasperating slow-
ness, "Alf wrote the cards, and gave me half a
dollar to put 'em 'round. Made a nice thing of it,
have n't I?" And before any of the girls could
catch him, he had bolted from the room, with one
hand full of candy, the other of mince-pie, and
his face shining with the triumphant glee of a
small boy who has teased seven big girls and got
the better of them.
What went on just after that is not recorded,
though Phil peeped in at the windows, hooted
through the slide, and beat a tattoo on the various
doors. The opportune arrival of his mother sent
him whooping down the street, and the distressed
damsels finished their lunch with what appetite
they could muster.
Edith won the prize, for her pie was pronounced
a grand success, and partaken of so heartily that
several young ladies had reason.to think it well
named "Nightmare" by the derisive Alfred.
Emboldened by her success, Edith invited them
all to her house on the next Saturday, and sug-
gested that she and her cousin provide the lunch-
eon, as they had some new dishes to offer, not
down in the recipe-book they had been studying
all winter.
As the ardor of the young cooks was somewhat
dampened by various failures, and the discovery
that good cooking is an art not easily learned, any-
thing in the way of novelty was welcome; and the
girls gladly accepted the invitation, feeling a sense

of relief at the thought of not having any dish to
worry about, though not one of them owned that
she was tired of mussing," as the disrespectful
boys called it.
It was unanimously decided to wither with silent
scorn the audacious Alfred and his ally, Rex, while
Phil was to be snubbed by his sister till he had
begged pardon for his share of the evil deed.
Then, having sweetened their tongues and tem-
pers with the delicious bonbons, the girls departed,
feeling that the next lunch would be an event of
unusual interest.
The idea of it originated in a dinner which Patty
cooked one day when Nancy, who wanted a holi-
day, was unexpectedly called away to the funeral of
a cousin,--the fifth relative who had died in a year,
such was the mortality in the jovial old creature's
family. Edith's mother was very busy with a
dressmaker, and gladly accepted the offer the girls
made to get dinner by themselves.
No fancy dishes, if you please; the boys come
in as hungry as hunters, and want a good solid
meal; so have something wholesome and plain, and
plenty of it," was the much-relieved lady's only
suggestion, as she retired to the sewing-room and
left the girls to keep house and prepare dinner in
their own way.
"Now, Edie, you be the mistress and give your
orders, and I '11 be cook. Only have things that
go well together,--not all baked or all boiled, be-
cause there is n't room enough on the range, you
know," said Patty, putting on a big apron with
an air of great satisfaction; for she was fond of
cooking, and was tired of doing nothing.
"I 'll watch all you do, and learn; so that the
next time Nancy goes off in a hurry, I can take
her place, and not have to give the boys what they
hate,-a 'picked-up dinner,'" answered Edith,
pleased with her part, yet a little mortified to find
how few plain dishes she could make well.
I "What do the boys like ?" asked Patty, longing
to please them, for they all liked her and were
very kind to her.
Roast beef and custard pudding, with two or
three kinds of vegetables. Can we do all that? "
"Yes, indeed. I '11 make the pudding right
away, and have it baked before the meat goes in.
I can cook as many vegetables as you please, and
soup too."
So the order was given and all went well, if one
might judge by the sounds of merriment in the
kitchen. Patty made her best gingerbread, and
cooked some apples with sugar and spice for tea,
and at the stroke of two had a nice dinner smok-
ing on the table, to the great contentment of the
hungry boys, who did eat like hunters, and ad-
vised mamma to send old Nancy away and keep



Patty for cook; which complimentary but rash
proposal pleased their cousin very much.
"Now, this is useful cookery, and well done,
though it looks so simple," said Edith's mother.
"Any girl can learn how, and so be independent
of servants if need be. Drop your class, Edith,
and take a few lessons of Patty. That would suit
me better than French affairs that are neither
economical nor wholesome."
I will, Mamma, for I 'm tired of creaming but-
ter, larding things, and beating eggs. These dishes
are not so elegant, but we must have them; so I
may as well learn, if Patty will teach me."

grew the lunch which Edith proposed, and to the
preparation of which went much thought and care;
for the girls meant to have many samples of coun-
try fare, so that various tastes might be pleased.
The plan gradually grew as they worked, and a lit-
tle surprise was added, which was a great success.
When Saturday came, the younger boys were all
packed off for a holiday in the country, that the
coast might be clear.
No hiding under sofas in my house, no med-
dling with my dinner, if you please, gentlemen,"
said Edith, as she saw the small brothers safely
off, and fell to work with Patty and the maid to

6', 414-4

1. A


With pleasure, all I know," replied her cousin.
"Mother thinks it a very important part of a girl's
education; for if you can't keep servants, you can
do your own work well, and even if you are rich
you are not so dependent as is one who is ignorant
of these things. All kinds of useful sewing and
housework come first with us, and the accomplish-
ments afterward, as time and money allow."
"That sort of thing turns out the kind of girl I
like, and so thinks every sensible fellow," exclaimed
Rex. "Good luck to you, Cousin, and my best
thanks for a capital dinner and a wise little lecture
for dessert."
Rex made his best bow as he left the table, and
Patty colored high with pleasure at the praise of
the tall collegian.
Out of this, and the talk they had afterward,

arrange the dining-room to suit the feast about to
be spread there.
As antique furniture is the fashion nowadays,
it was easy to collect all the old tables, chairs,
china, and ornaments in the house, and make a
pleasant place of the sunny room, where a tall
clock always stood, and damask hangings a cent-
ury old added much to the effect. A massive
mahogany table was set forth with ancient silver,
glass, china, and all sorts of queer old salt-cellars,
pepper-pots, pickle-dishes, knives, and spoons.
High-backed chairs stood around it, and the guests
were received by a very pretty old lady in plum-
colored satin, with a muslin pelerine, and a large
lace cap very becoming to the rosy face it sur-
rounded. A fat watch ticked in the wide belt,
mitts covered the plump hands, and a reticule



hung at the side. Madam's daughter, in a very
short-waisted pink silk gown, muslin apron, and
frill, was even prettier than her mother, for her
dark, curly hair hung on her shoulders, and a little
cap with long pink streamers was stuck on the
top. Her mitts went to the elbow, and a pink sash
was tied in a large bow behind. Black satin shoes
covered her feet, and a necklace of gold beads was
around her throat.
Great was the pleasure this little surprise gave
the girls, and gay was the chatter that went on as
they were welcomed by their hostesses, who con-
stantly forgot their parts. Madam frisked now and
then, and "pretty Peggy" was so anxious about
dinner that she was not as devoted to her company
as a well-bred young lady should be. But no one
minded, and when the bell rang, all gathered about
the table, eager to see what the feast was to be.
Ladies, we have endeavored to give you a taste
of some of the good old-style dishes rather out of
fashion now," said Madam, standing at her place,
with a napkin pinned over the purple dress, and a
twinkle in the blue eyes under the wide cap-frills.
" We thought it would be well to introduce some
of them to the class and to our family cooks, who
either scorn the plain dishes or don't know how to
cook them well. There is a variety, and we hope
all will find something to enjoy. Peggy, uncover,
and let us begin."
At first the girls looked a little disappointed, for
the dishes were not very new to them, but when
they tasted a real boiled dinner," and found how
good it was; also baked beans, neither hard,
greasy, nor burnt; beefsteak, tender, juicy, and
well flavored; potatoes, mealy in spite of the sea-
son; Indian pudding, made as few modern cooks
know how to make it; brown bread, with home-
made butter; and pumpkin-pie that cut like wedges
of vegetable gold,-they changed their minds, and
began to eat with appetites that would have de-
stroyed their reputations as delicate young ladies,
if they had been seen. Tea in egg-shell cups,
election-cake and cream-cheese, with fruit, ended
the dinner,; And as they sat admiring the tiny old
spoons, the crisp cake, and the little cheeses like
snow-balls, Edith said, in reply to various compli-
ments paid her: "Let us give honor where
honor is due. Patty suggested this, and did most
of the cooking; so thank her, and borrow her
recipe-book. It 's very funny, ever so old, copied
and tried by her grandmother, and full of direc-
tions for making quantities of nice things, from
pie like this to a safe, sure wash for the com-
plexion. May-dew, rose-leaves, and lavender,-
does n't that sound lovely? "

"Oh, let me copy it! was the simultaneous
request of Ella and May, who were afflicted with
freckles, and Laura, who was sallow from over-
indulgence in coffee and confectionery.
"Yes, indeed. But I was about to say, as we have
no prize to-day, we have prepared a little souvenir
of our old-fashioned dinner for each of you.
Bring them, Daughter; I hope the ladies will par-
don the homeliness of the offering, and make use
of the hint that accompanies each."
As Edith spoke, with a comical mingling of the
merry girl and the stately old lady she was trying
to personate, Patty brought from the sideboard,
where it had stood in hiding, a silver salver, on
which lay five dainty little loaves of bread. On the
top of each loaf appeared a recipe for making it,
nicely written on a colored card and held in place
by a silver scarf-pin.
How cunning " What lovely pins "I '11
take the hint and learn to make good bread at
once." "It smells as sweet as a nut, and is n't
hard or heavy anywhere " Such a pretty idea,
and so clever of you to carry it out so well "
These remarks went on as the little loaves went
around, each girl finding her pin well suited to her
pet fancy or foible; for all were different, and all
very pretty, whether the design was a palette, a
pen, a racquet, a fan, or a bar of music.
Seeing that her dinner was a success in spite of
its homeliness, Edith added the last surprise, which
had also been one to Patty and herself when' it
arrived, just in time to be carried out. She forgot
to be Madam now, and said with a face full of
mingled merriment and satisfaction, as she pushed
her cap askew and pulled off her mitts:
"Girls, the best joke of all is that Rex and Alf
sent the pins, and made Phil bring them, with a
most humble apology for their impertinence last
week. A meeker boy I never saw, and for that
we may thank Floy; but I think the dinner Pat
and I cooked the other day won Rex's heart, so that
he made Alf eat humble pie in this agreeable
manner. We'll not say anything about it, but will
all wear our pins, and show the boys that we can
forgive and forget as 'sweet girls' should, though
we do cook and have ideas of our own beyond
looking pretty and minding our older brothers."
"We will! cried the chorus with one voice,
and Florence added: I also propose that when
we have learned to make something besides kick-
shaws,' as the boys call our fancy dishes, we have
a dinner like this, and invite those rascals to it;
which will be heaping coals of fire on their heads,
and will put a stop for evermore to their making
jokes about our cooking class."

VOL. XII.-2.



BY EMMA C. Down.

LORRAINE has wonderful, lustrous eyes,
Clear as the depths of a mountain lake,
Blue as the blue of morning skies
That frost and sunshine together make.

" Give me those beautiful eyes," I said,
Those merry blue eyes of yours, Lorraine!"

The sunbeams danced on the golden head,
While into the eyes crept a look of pain.

" I tan't!" the little maid said, at last,
Her mind all free from the sudden doubt,
As over the lids her fingers passed.
Dod put 'em in tight, and I tan't det 'em out! "





IT is quite a common thing for persons traveling
in Europe who are unacquainted with the coun-
tries they intend to visit, to form themselves into
companies under the charge of a man who makes
it his business to go with such parties and person-
ally conduct them during the tours and journeys
that may be agreed upon. Besides relieving trav-
elers from the troubles and perplexities which
often befall them in countries with the language
and customs of which they are not well acquainted,
the personal conductor is familiar with all the ob-
jects of interest in the various places visited, and
is able to explain to those under his charge every-
Sthing that they see.
It is my purpose to offer my services to you,
boys and girls of ST. NICHOLAS, to personally
conduct you, in the pages of your magazine, to
various interesting places in Europe. I do not
propose to take you over all Europe, nor to stop
at every well-known place upon our route, for to
do this would require a long time. Of course,
there are few places in the world which the ST.
NICHOLAS young people have not read about; but
every traveler sees something new, or sees old
things in a new light, and when we visit great
cities or noted localities, we shall not only try to
enjoy what we have read of before, but to find out
as much as possible for ourselves. I shall conduct
you only over such ground as I myself have pre-
viously visited. And now, as we know what is to
be done, we will set out.

If we cross the Atlantic by one of the fast steam-
ships, we shall make the voyage in about a week.
But if we are going to Liverpool, to which port
most of the steamers sail, we must not think that
our journey is over at the end of the seventh day.
At that time we have only reached Queenstown,
Ireland. The time of steamers crossing the Atlan-
tic is estimated by the number of days and hours
occupied in going from Sandy Hook to Queens-
town, or from Queenstown to Sandy Hook. It is
true that, on arriving at Queenstown we have
reached Europe, but we must go on for about a
day more before we get to Liverpool, the end of
our voyage; unless, indeed, we choose to stop for
a time in Ireland, which many people do. We
are landed at Liverpool by a little side-wheel
steam-boat, which conveys us from the ocean
steamer, anchored in mid-stream, to the "land-
ing-stage or floating dock.
And here I may as well state at once that we
are on our way to the south of France and Italy,
and that, therefore, we shall make short stops, at
present, at intervening places, no matter how in-
teresting they may be. For this reason we shall
soon leave behind us Liverpool, with its mag-
nificent stone docks, its seven miles of quays, and
its enormous draught-horses, which bear the same
relation to common horses that Jumbo-bears to
common elephants. Nor shall we stop very long
at the queer old town of Chester, full of quaint
and curious houses of the olden time, some with
Scriptural texts upon their fronts, and which has
a wall entirely around it, built by the Romans
when these mighty people were masters of Eng-
land. If there is in our company any boy or girl



who has studied ancient history so much that he
or she is tired of hearing about the Romans, that
member of our party must either turn back and
go home, or else be prepared to exercise a great
deal of resignation during the rest of our journeys.
For, in traveling over civilized Europe, we might
as well try to avoid English or American travelers
(who are to be found everywhere) as to avoid the
architectural remains of the Romans, who were
as great in colonizing as they were in conquering,
and who left marks of their enterprise from Africa
to Scotland. If this energetic nation had known
of the existence of a continent on the other side of
the Atlantic, it is very likely that there would now
be the remains of a Roman amphitheater on
Coney Island, and a Roman wall around Bur-
lington, New Jersey. Even London, the greatest
city in the civilized world, where we shall not stop

now, although we shall visit it at a fu-
ture time, received its original name,
Londinium, from the Romans, who
made it from two Saxon words.
England is a beautiful country, and
tempts us greatly to linger, but we
must keep on and cross over, as soon
as possible, to the Continent; and as
some of us are probably subject to
sea-sickness, we will choose the short-
est sea route-that between Dover
and Calais.* The English Channel is one of the
worst places in the world for causing sea-sickness,
and we shall take passage upon a very curious vessel,
built for the purpose of preventing, so far as possi-
ble, the rolling, pitching, and tossing which cause
many travelers to suffer more in a few hours' trip
between England and France than they had suf-
fered in their whole voyage across the wide Atlantic.
This vessel is, in reality, two boats, placed side by
side, and covered with one deck like the catama-
rans in use in the United States. It has a com-
paratively easy and steady motion, and it is quite
a novel experience to go out to the forward rail,
and see the bows of the two vessels in front of us
plowing through the water, side by side, as if they
were a pair of steam-boats running a very even
race. From Calais we go by rail to Paris, the
most beautiful of all the great cities of the world;
*Pronounced: in English, Kal'-is,--in French, Kall'.

but it is not our intention to stop here now, and
so we keep on toward the south of France.
Our first actual visit will be made to the small
but very old city of Avignon f on the River Rhone.
This is a good place at which to begin our foreign
life, for there are few towns in Europe which to an
American boy or girl would seem more thoroughly
foreign than Avignon. The town is surrounded
by a high wall, with the battlements and towers
almost as perfect as when they were built in
the fourteenth century. Nearly all the streets
are either narrow or crooked, and many are
both, as streets used to be in the Middle Ages,
and some of them are cut through solid rock,
with queer old houses perched high overhead.
But there are broad open spaces, and one straight
wide street, which, with the handsome gate at the
end of it, was formerly called the street and gate



of Petrarch, after the famous poet who lived near
Avignon. Lately, however, the French people
have changed its name, and now it is called the
street of the Republic. But with this exception
there is nothing about Avignon that would remind
us of any modern town. Everything we see--the
houses, the streets, the churches-looks as if it
had been in use for centuries.
In the year 1309 Avignon became a very im-
portant place in the eyes of Europ.e; for in that
year the Pope of Rome came to live here, and
made this little city the central seat of government
of the Christian church. Civil wars in Italy made
Rome a very unpleasant place for the popes to live
in, and through the influence of the King of
France, Pope Clement V. established himself at
Avignon, and other popes succeeded him; and the
fact that for nearly a hundred years the popes
t Pronounced A-veen'yonf.


lived at Avignon has given this little city an im-
portant place in history.
The massive palace in which the popes used to
live still stands upon a hill called the Rocher des
Doms, overlooking the town. This building, lofty
in height and immense in extent, is now occupied
as a military barracks, but visitors can walk through
it and see many remains of its former grandeur.
But in its lofty halls-(the walls of which were
covered with fresco paintings by Italian masters)
- rude soldiers now eat, drink, and sleep, where
popes and cardinals once moved about in state.
After a visit to the old cathedral near by, we go
out upon the upper part of the hill, which is laid
out as a pleasure-ground, with handsome walks
and shrubbery. From a high point here we have
one of the finest views in France. Far off to the
eastward, with its white head against the deep
blue sky, is a mountain, its top covered with
perpetual snow. It is Mont Ventoux,y one of the
Maritime Alps; and although we shall see much
grander mountains, we shall not be likely to forget
this one, on top of which is lying, perhaps, the first
perpetual snow that some of us have ever seen. Far
away on every side, we have beautiful views of the
Rhone valley and the surrounding country with
its dark masses of forest, its vast stretches of fields
and groves of olive-trees, and its little white stone
villages scattered about, here and there, upon the
landscape. The river Rhone runs close to the
foot of the Rocher des Doms; and looking across
its two branches, which are here separated by a

New City; and the place with the walls around it
is the ruins of the fortified Abbey of St. Andrew,
which used to be a very important establishment
in the time of the popes. Just beneath us there
is a part of an ancient bridge which once stretched
across the two branches of the river, and over
the island, to the other side. The swift-flowing
Rhone, however, has long since carried away
nearly all of it, and there is nothing left but a
small portion, with a little chapel standing on the
outermost and broken end.
There is now a modern bridge over the river,
and as I know we will all wish to examine the ruins
of the abbey on the other side, we will cross over
this; and we soon enter the town of Villeneuve,
which I am sure is the saddest and most deserted-
looking place that any of you ever saw in your
There are few persons to be seen anywhere.
We go up a long street with dead-looking houses
on each side, and occasionally we see a magnifi-
cent stone portal with pillars and carved ornaments,
which would seem to lead to some grand palace;
but on looking through the gate-waywe see nothing
behind but a miserable little stone shanty, the
palace having long ago gone to ruin. An impos-
ing entrance of this kind, which leads to nothing
of any consequence, reminds me of some people I
have met.
I must say here, while speaking of the aspect
of Villeneuve, that we must not allow ourselves to
be depressed by the melancholy little villages we

~4: j~t~


large island, we see something that seems like a
fortress. The four walls, inclosing a large square
space, have battlements and towers, most of which
are now broken down; but two fine old towers,
with a gate-way between them, still stand up bold
and high. Near these ruins is a long, straggling
town, which is the very old town of Villeneuve, or
Pronounced Mona vone -too'.

shall meet with in our travels in the southern part
of Europe. We must not expect pretty houses,
surrounded by shade-trees, fresh grass, and flower-
beds, such as we see in country places at home.
In England, and some parts of the Continent,
many of the small country houses and villages are
extremely picturesque and attractive, but in the
t Pronounced Veel-nuv'.




southern part of Europe, where the summers are
long and hot, the houses in the villages are built
of gray or whitish stone, with as few windows as
possible, and are crowded close together. The
narrow streets are hard and white, and look as if
they were made of the same stone as the houses.
The heat can not penetrate into these tomb-like

rooms of the two towers, which are connected, and
which for centuries were used for prisons. In a small
dark, stone cell there is an inscription stating that
Gaston, brother of Louis XIV., was here confined.
This was the Man with the Iron Mask," who was,
from time to time, shut up in various prisons of
France. One of the large rooms has its stone

- 1'a-:.


buildings, and they may be very cool and satisfac-
tory to the people who live in them, but they have
not a cheerful air. But we shall get used to this
and many other things which are either better or
worse than what we have left behind us at home;
and the sooner we make up our minds to enjoy, so
far as we can, whatever sights we see, without con-
tinually comparing them with things at home, the
greater pleasure shall we take in our travels, and
the greater advantage will they be to us.
When we have passed through the town and
have reached the old abbey, we find a little man
with a bunch of keys; he is called the garden,
and has the privilege of showing the place.
Did any of you ever read "The Mysteries of
Udolpho," by Mrs. Radcliffe ? If you have, you
will remember that the story is full of secret pas-
sages, concealed door-ways, trap-doors, and dun-
geons. The two great round towers which stand
on each side of the main entrance to this abbey
are very much like my idea of the Castle of Udol-
pho. We enter one of the towers by a little door
on the ground, and find ourselves in a dark apart-
ment; then we go up narrow, winding stone stairs,
with a rope on one side to take hold of; and so
visit, one after another, the various dungeons and

floor literally covered with inscriptions scratched
or carved there by prisoners. Some of these were
made as late as the great French Revolution,
while others date back to the tenth century; some
are very elaborate, and it must have taken the
prisoners a long time to cut them out, but that
was probably the only way they had of passing
the time. In the upper part of one of the towers
is the bakery, with immense ovens, still apparently
in good order. Near by is the little cell where the
baker, who was always a prisoner, was every night
locked up. The garden will point out to us trap-
doors, on which we feel somewhat fearful to tread,
and doors and dark passages which we should
never be likely to find by ourselves. And, at last,
we make our way down the stone stairs, which are
worn by the steps of many generations of prison-
ers, guards, and jailors, and out into the great
inclosed space surrounded by the abbey walls.
There are other towers at the corners of these
walls, but they are in a ruined condition. Almost
in the center of the inclosure is a comparatively
modern convent, with a wall around it. This is
the only place within the bounds of the ancient
abbey that is inhabited.
Ruins of this kind possess a historical interest,



and those who wish to understand the manners
and customs of people of the Middle Ages should
not fail to visit them, if it is in their power; but,
after all, I think we shall feel relieved when we go
away from this gloomy fortress and these melan-
choly dungeons, and prepare to visit something
which is a relic of the past,- I may say of the very
long, long past,-but which has no saddening
traditions connected with it.
What we are now going to see is not at Avig-
non, but is distant about an hour's ride by rail.
It is the Pontdu Gard*(or "Bridge of the Gard "),
a great bridge, or aqueduct, built here by the
Romans at a time when this part of France was
occupied by the soldiers and colonies of that peo-
ple; and, next to the Colosseum at Rome, it is
considered the grandest and most perfect piece of
Roman architecture now standing in the world.
In order to properly see this great ruin, we shall
give a day to the visit; and we shall take a morning
train at the station at the end of the bridge oppo-
site Avignon, and go to Remoulin,f a small village
about two miles from the Pont du Gard. Then
as many of us as can be accommodated will get
into little carriages, each drawn by one horse
with a high horn to his collar, on which hang
bells, and driven by a man in a blue blouse,
with a whip that cracks as merrily as the bells
jingle; and the rest of us, I suppose, will have to
walk. The most of our road is by the little river
Gardon, usually called the Gard; and as we go
along, we see French rural life much better than
we can from the windows of a railway train. The
road is smooth and hard, like those of our city
parks. Of this kind, indeed, are nearly all the
roads in France. When we have gone about two
miles, we reach a valley formed by two rows of
high hills, which rise on each side of the river;
and at a turn in the road we suddenly see before
us the great Pont du Gard. It is an immense
stone bridge, rising high into the air and stretching
across the whole valley. It consists of three rows
of arches, one above the other. In the.lower row
there are six very large arches; above this is a
longer row of eleven smaller arches; and over this,
thirty-five arches still smaller. On the top of the
upper row, and forming the summit of the bridge,
is a covered aqueduct, or water-way. At a little
distance this vast bridge seems almost as entire
and perfect as when first built, and we can hardly
realize the fact that it has stood there for nineteen
centuries. The valley here is wild and almost
desolate. There is a mill on one side of the river
and a small house, nearly concealed by trees, on
the other, and an occasional wagon may be seen
moving slowly along the road, or crossing the
river on a bridge, which was built in 1743 for

military purposes, close to the lower arches of
the ancient structure and partly resting on them.
Otherwise the place is quiet and deserted, as it
probably always has been; and it seems strange that
the Romans should have built such a stupendous
and costly bridge in a spot like this. But it was
not put here that people might cross the little
river Gardon, which is spanned by a single one of
the lower row of arches. There is a broad pave-
ment of great slabs of stone on the top of this first
row of arches, and on this persons could walk if
there happened to be anybody who wanted to
cross the river at this point, but vehicles could
never go over the Pont du Gard. It was erected
solely for the purpose of carrying water across the
valley, and was part of an aqueduct, twenty-five
miles long, constructed by the Romans to conduct
the water of the springs of Airan to their town of
Nemausus, now the French town of Nimes.t
Remains of this aqueduct may still be seen in
various parts of the country between the springs
and Nimes.
We all stop for a few moments to gaze at this
massive structure,-even now one of the greatest
bridges in the world,-and then we hurry forward
to take possession of it. This we may truly do for
as long a time as we please, for there is no gar-
dien here in charge of the bridge; there are no
guides to take us about and explain everything,
as if they were "saying a lesson" which they
had learned years ago, and had repeated every
day since; and it is very likely there are no
tourists wandering up and down with red guide-
books in their hands, for it is an out-of-the-way
place. So we have the great bridge to ourselves,
and can wander and climb about it as much as
we like. We send the little carriages back to
Remoulin, with orders to return for us in the
afternoon, and give ourselves up to the pleasant
occupation of finding out exactly what sort of a
bridge the Romans constructed when they made
up their minds to build a really good one. The
first thing we do is to pass under some of the
lower arches to the farther side; and this we
can easily do, for, as I said before, the little
river runs under but one of these arches, the
others stretching over the rocks, the grass, and
the road in the bottom of the valley. From
the other side we get a view of the ancient
bridge unobstructed by the modern one, which
was built by a warrior duke for the purpose of
getting his cannon and military wagons across the
stream, and which is now a very good bridge for
vehicles of the present day. As we gaze up at the
old bridge, we see great stones projecting at
regular intervals from its sides, from the bottom
up to the top of the second row of arches. These


* Pronounced Pon" du Gar.

t Pronounced Reh-moo-lan ''.

! Pronounced Neem.


served as supports to the derricks and other
machines by which the massive stones were raised
as the building progressed; and when Agrippa
(the son-in-law of Caesar Augustus), who is believed
to have built this bridge, had finished his great
work, he did not think it necessary to make his
workmen cut off these projecting stones, and thus
we have an idea of one of the methods by which
the Roman stone-masons worked. When we go
up to the road which is on a level with the top of

the first row of arches, we all cross the bridge on
the broad pavement, which seems as smooth and
solid as when it was laid down, before the begin-
ning of the Christian era. The second row of
arches rests upon this pavement, but there is plenty
of room on the outside of them for us to walk, and if
we keep on the side next to the modern bridge,
there is no danger of falling off. When we step
under the arches of this second row and look up, we
see the square indentations in the stone-work which
were made there to support the scaffolding of the
Roman masons. The world has changed so much
since those holes were made that it is almost
like a new world; and if Agrippa, the famous
aqueduct-builder, could come back to life, he
would find, a wonderfully different Rome and a
wonderfully different Europe from those he used
to know, but he would see the square holes in his
arches exactly as he left them.
When we have examined the bridge as much as
we wish to from this broad lower pavement, we
make up our minds to go to the very top of it, and
see what is to be seen there. The aqueduct, which
rests on the upper row of arches, extends from the
upper part of the hills on one side of the valley to
the hills on the other, and we can reach it by
climbing a steep path. When we get to the end
of the path,-and those of you who are inclined to
be fat, and also inclined to be in a hurry, must
expect to puff a little at this point, -we find that

we can look through the long covered water-way
from one end to the other. But more than this,
we can walk through it if we choose, and this we
immediately prepare to do. This long passage,
through which the water used to run, is several
feet wide, and higher than a tall man, and in some
places the broad slabs of stone which formed its
roof are missing, so that it is now quite well lighted.
There is no danger in walking through it, for there
are no holes in the floor through which one might

fall, and the walls of the aqueduct are still per-
fect. The bridge is very old, but it is solid enough
to support all the people who may choose to walk
through its water-way, and hundreds of years from
now it will probably be as strong as it is to-day.
There have been young men who have partly
crossed this bridge by climbing on the roof of the
water-way and walking on the top of the stone
slabs. There is no railing there for any of them
to catch hold of should they make a misstep, and,
although it is quite wide enough to walk on, it is
too high in the air to make it safe for a prome-
nade. So the ST. NICHOLAS boys will keep off
this roof, if they please, and walk in the narrow
passage through which the water used to flow to
the old Roman town.
When this water-way was built, it was lined with
the famous Roman cement, through which water
could not penetrate. The bottom, or floor, of
the passage is now a good deal broken, and there
are loose pieces of this plaster, about half an inch
thick, lying here and there. I dare say many
of the young people will pick up some of these,
and carry them away as mementoes of mason-
work which was comparatively new and fresh at
the time when Mary and Joseph, with their little
Child, took their flight into Egypt. It is not right
to injure monuments or buildings, either ancient or
modern, by carrying away pieces of them as relics,
but there is no harm in taking a piece of plaster


which maybe crushed by the first heavy heel that
treads upon it. It is a queer sensation, walking
through this long rectangular pipe, for it is nothing
else, which is raised to such a great height in the
air. When we arrive at about the middle, those
of us who happen to think of the three rows of
arches beneath us, and of the good old age to
which they have arrived, may perhaps begin to
feel a little nervous, but there is really no danger,
and if you think you feel the bridge swerving from
side to side, it is all imagination. It is certainly a
very narrow bridge, considering its great height and
length, but the storms of nineteen centuries have
not moved it.
When we come to the other end of the bridge, we
find that it is somewhat broken and does not
reach the hill-top in front of it, but there are
stones, like steps, by which we can make our way
to a path which will take us down the hill to the
valley. This valley is a delightful place for a pic-
nic, and here we shall sit down and eat the lunch-
eons we have brought with us. In some places
the ground is covered with beautiful green grass,
shaded by trees; and near the bridge are many
rocks which are pleasant to sit upon. Not far
away is an olive orchard, and when I first visited
this place many of the olives were ripe. I had
never before seen ripe olives, which are of a dark
purple, almost black, and look like little plums.
I naturally wished to know how they tasted, and
so I picked one and tried it. I do not believe
the owner of the grove would object to the boys
and girls picking as many ripe olives as they
chose, provided they would give him a cent apiece
for all they did not eat after tasting them. The
foliage of olive-trees is of a dull grayish green,
and although picturesque when seen in masses,
and at a little distance with the sunlight upon
it, is not of a cheerful hue. But an olive grove
will always appear more cheerful to those who
have not tasted the ripe fruit than to those who
have. The olives which we use on our tables are
picked green and pickled; those which ripen are
used for oil.
We wander by the side of the little river, which
sometimes spreads out to quite a width, overhung
by trees, and then hurries between rocks toward
the mill, where it spreads itself out again and falls
gayly over a dam. Then we sit upon the rocks
and the grass, and look through the great lower
arches of the old bridge, and we see through each
one a different picture; sometimes a bit of the
river, the mill, and distant hills spotted with vil-

lages and steeples; sometimes the river, a grove,
the bright green grass, and the deep blue sky; and
then again a white road, with a queer old-fashioned
wagon making its way slowly along; or high,
rocky hills, and a mass of deep green foliage, with
a bit of sky just visible at the top.
And, when we gaze upward, there is the bridge,
wonderful in its size, its beauty, and enduring
strength, and still more wonderful in the story it
tells of that great nation which once spread itself
over the known world, leaving everywhere monu-
ments of its power and wealth. But, with one ex-
ception, none of its monuments which survive
to-day are so vast and imposing as this immense
bridge, built simply for the purpose of giving good
pure water to the inhabitants of a little town.
Nearly every one who sees the Pont du Gard
makes the remark that it seems strange that such
an enormous and expensive bridge should have
been built just to carry water across that valley.
Truly, the Romans were an energetic people.
The reason why the Pont du Gard is now so
much more a perfect structure than that other
great remaining work of the Roman architects,
the Colosseum, is that it has always stood at a
distance from towns and cities whose inhabitants
might want its stones to build their palaces and
their huts. It is not the hand of time that has, in
most cases, destroyed the temples and other archi-
tectural works of the ancients, but the hand of
man. They were built strongly and massively;
but, although they could resist the storms of cent-
uries, they could not resist the crow-bars of men
who found it much easier to take away their stones,
already cut and shaped, than to quarry building-
material from the rocks. The world has now
more respect for ancient remains than it used to
have; and I feel sure that if ever a town arises near
the Pont du Gard, the stones of the old bridge will
not be taken to build its houses.
But now we hear jingling bells, and the crack-
ing of whips, and here come the little carriages to
take us back to Remoulin.
At Nimes, and at some other places in the south
of France, there are ruins of amphitheaters and
other Roman buildings; but we shall not visit
these now. After a while we wish to go to Rome,
and if we see too many Roman ruins before we get
there, it may take off a little of the edge of the
keen pleasure we expect in the Eternal City.
But the Pont du Gard is something that is dif-
ferent from anything else in the world; it would
not do to miss that.

[An illustration, showing the Pont du Gard, arrives too late for the present issue of Sr. NICHOLAS. It will
appear in the December number. Ed.]


3884.J WILLOW-WARE. 25

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You may find it hard to believe what I am
going to tell you, but it is, nevertheless, strictly
true. I knew the boy who is the hero of this
story. His name was Thor Larsson, and a very
clever boy he was. Still I don't think he would
have amounted to much in the world, if it had not
been for his friend Michael, or, as they write it
in Norwegian, Mikkel. Mikkel, strange to say,
was not a boy, but a fox. Thor caught him, when

he was a very small lad, in a den under the roots
of a huge tree. It happened in this way. Thor
and his elder brother, Lars, and still another boy,
named Ole Thomlemo, were up in the woods
gathering faggots, which they tied together in
large bundles to carry home on their backs; for their
parents were poor people, and had no money to
buy wood with. The boys rather liked to be sent
on errands of this kind, because delicious rasp-
berries and blue-berries grew in great abundance
in the woods, and gathering faggots was, after
all, a much manlier occupation than staying at
home minding the baby.




Thor's brother Lars and Ole Thomlemo were
great friends, and they had a disagreeable way of
always plotting and having secrets together and
leaving Thor out of their councils. One of their
favorite tricks, when they wished to get rid of
him, was to pretend to play hide-and-seek;
and when he had hidden himself, they would
run away from him and make no effort to find
him. It was this trick of theirs which led to
the capture of Mikkel, and to many things be-
It was on a glorious day in the early autumn that
the three boys started out together, as frisky and
gay as a company of squirrels. They had no lunch-
eon baskets with them, although they expected to
be gone for the whole day; but they had hooks and
lines in their pockets, and meant to have a famous
dinner of brook-trout up in some mountain glen,
where they could sit like pirates around a fire,
conversing in mysterious language, while the fish
was being fried upon a flat stone. Their tolle
knives* were hanging, sheathed, from their girdles,
and the two older ones carried, besides, little
hatchets wherewith to cut off the dry twigs and
branches. Lars and Ole Thomlemo, as usual,
kept ahead and left Thor to pick his way over the
steep and stony road as best he might; and when
he caught up with them, they started to run, while
he sat down panting on a stone. Thus several
hours passed, until they came to a glen in which
the blue-berries grew so thickly that you could n't
step without crushing a handful. The boys gave
a shout of delight and flung themselves down,
heedless of their clothes, and began to eat with
boyish greed. As far as their eyes could reach
between the mossy pine trunks, the ground was
blue with berries, except where bunches of ferns
or clusters of wild flowers intercepted the view.
When they had dulled the edge of their hunger,
they began to cut the branches from the trees
which the lumbermen had felled, and Ole Thom-
lemo, who was clever with his hands, twisted
withes, which they used instead of ropes for tying
their bundles together. They had one bundle
well secured and another under way, when Ole,
with a mischievous expression, ran over to Lars
and whispered something in his ear.
"Let us play hide-and-seek," said Lars aloud,
glancing over toward his little brother, who was
working like a Trojan, breaking the faggots so as
to make them all the same length.
Thor, who in spite of many exasperating experi-
ences had not yet learned to be suspicious, threw
down an armful of dry boughs and answered:
"Yes, let us, boys I am in for anything."

I'll blind first," cried Ole Thomlemo; now,
be quick and get yourselves hidden."
And off the two brothers ran, while Ole turned
his face against a big tree and covered his eyes
with his hands. But the very moment Thor was
out of sight, Lars stole back again to his friend,
and together they stepped away under cover of
the bushes, until they reached the lower end of the
glen. There, they pulled out their fish-lines, cut
rods with their hatchets, and went'down to the
tarn, or brook, which was only a short distance
off; the fishing was excellent, and when the large
speckled trout began to leap out of the water to
catch their flies, the two boys soon ceased to
trouble themselves about little Thor, who, they
supposed, was hiding under some bush and wait-
ing to be discovered.
In this supposition they were partly right and
partly wrong.
No sooner had Ole Thomlemo given the signal
for hiding, than Thor ran up the hill-side, stum-
bling over the moss-grown stones, pushing the un-
derbrush aside with his hands, and looking eagerly
for a place where he would be least likely to be
found. He was full of the spirit of the game, and
anticipated with joyous excitement the wonder of
the boys when they should have to give up the
search and call to him to reveal himself. While
these thoughts were filling his brain, he caught
sight of a huge old fir-tree, which was leaning down
the mountain-side as if ready to fall. The wind had
evidently given it a pull in the top, strong enough
to loosen its hold on the ground, and yet not
strong enough to overthrow it. On the upper side,
for a dozen yards or more, the thick, twisted roots,
with the soil and turf still clinging to them, had
been lifted, so as to form a little den about two
feet wide at the entrance. Here, thought Thor,
was a wonderful hiding-place. Chuckling to him-
self at the discomfiture of his comrades, he threw
himself down on his knees and thrust his head
into the opening. To his surprise the bottom felt
soft to his hands, as if it had been purposely cov-
ered with moss and a layer of feathers and eider-
down. He did not take heed of the peculiar wild
smell which greeted his nostrils, but fearlessly
pressed on, until nearly his whole figure, with the
exception of the heels of his boots, was hidden.
Then a sharp little bark startled him, and raising
his head he saw eight luminous eyes staring at him
from a dark recess, a few feet beyond his nose. It
is not to be denied that he was a little frightened;
for it instantly occurred to him that he had unwit-
tingly entered the den of some wild beast, and that,
in case the old ones were at home, there was small

*The national knife of Norway. It has a round or oblong handle of wood, bone, or ivory, often beautifully carved, and a slightly
curved, one-edged blade, with a sharp point.



chance of his escaping with a whole skin. It could
hardly be a bear's den, for the entrance was not
half big enough for a gentleman of Bruin's size.
It might possibly be a wolf's premises he was
trespassing upon, and the idea made his blood run
cold. For Mr. Graylegs, as the Norwegians call
the wolf, is not to be trifled with; and a small boy
armed only with a knife was hardly a match for
such an antagonist. Thor concluded, without
much reflection, that his safest plan would be to
beat a hasty retreat. Digging his hands into the
mossy ground, he tried to push himself backward,
but, to his unutterable dismay, he could not budge
an inch. The feathers, interspersed with the smooth
pine-needles, slipped under his fingers, and, more-
over, the roots caught in his clothes and held him
as in a vice. He tried to force his way, but the more
he wriggled the more he realized how small was
his chance of escape. To turn was impossible, and
to pull off his coat and trousers was a scarcely less
difficult task. It was fortunate that the four inhabit-
ants of the den, to whom the glaring eyes belonged,
seemed no less frightened than himself; for they
remained huddled together in their corner, and
showed no disposition to fight. They only stared
wildly at the intruder, and seemed anxious to
know what he intended to do next. And Thor
stared at them in return, although the darkness
was so dense that he could discern nothing except
the eight luminous eyes, which were fixed upon
him with an uncanny and highly uncomfortable ex-
pression. Unpleasant as the situation was, he
began to grow accustomed to it, and he collected
his scattered thoughts sufficiently to draw certain
conclusions. The size of the den, as well as the
feathers which everywhere met his fumbling hands,
convinced him that his hosts were young foxes,
and that probably their respected parents, for the
moment, were on a raid in search of rabbits or
stray poultry. That reflection comforted him, for
he had never known a fox to use any other weapon
of defense than its legs, unless it was caught in
a trap and had to fight for bare life. He was just
dismissing from his mind all thought of danger
from that source, when a sudden sharp pain in his
heel put an end to his reasoning. He gave a
scream, at which the eight eyes leaped apart in
pairs and distributed themselves in a row along
the curving wall of the den. Another bite in his
ankle convinced him that he was being attacked
from behind, and he knew no other way of defense
than to kick with all his might, screaming at the
same tiTne so as to attract the attention of the
boys, who, he supposed, could hardly be far off.
But his voice sounded choked and feeble in the
close den, and he feared that no one would be able
to hear it ten yards away. The strong odor, too,

began to stifle him, and a strange dizziness wrapped
his senses, as it were, in a gray, translucent veil.
He made three or four spasmodic efforts to rouse
himself, screamed feebly and kicked; but probably
he struck his wounded ankle against a root or a
stone, for the pain shot up his leg and made him
clinch his teeth to keep the tears from starting.
He thought of his poor mother, whom he feared
he should never see again, and how she would watch
for his return through the long night and cry for
him, as it said in the Bible that Jacob cried over
Joseph when he supposed that a wild beast had torn
him to pieces and killed him. Curious lights, like
shooting stars, began to move before his eyes; his
tongue felt dryand parched, and his throat seemed
burning hot. It occurred to him that certainly
God saw his peril and might yet help him, if he
only prayed for help; but the only prayer which he
could remember was the one which the minister
repeated every Sunday for our most gracious
sovereign, Charles XV., and the army and navy
of the United Kingdoms." Next he stumbled upon
"the clergy, and the congregations committed to
their charge"; and he was about to finish with
" sailors in distress at sea," when his words, like his
thoughts, grew more and more hazy, and he drifted
away into unconsciousness.
Lars and Ole Thomlemo in the meanwhile
had enjoyed themselves to the top of their bent,
and when they had caught a dozen trout, among
which was one three-pounder, they reeled up
their lines, threaded the fish on withes, and began
to trudge leisurely up the glen. When they came
to the place where they had left their bundles of
faggots, they stopped to shout for Thor, and when
they received no reply, they imagined that, being
tired of waiting, he had gone home alone, or fallen
in with some one who was on his way down to the
valley. The only thing that troubled them was
that Thor's bundle had not been touched since
they left him, and they knew that the boy was not
lazy, and that, moreover, he would be afraid to
go home without the faggots. They therefore
concluded to search the copse and the surrounding
underbrush, as it was just possible that he might
have fallen asleep in his hiding-place while waiting
to be discovered.
I think Thor is napping somewhere under
the bushes," cried Ole Thomlemo, swinging his
hatchet over his head like an Indian tomahawk.
"We shall have to halloo pretty loud, for you
know he sleeps like a top."
And they began scouring the underbrush, trav-
ersing it in all directions, and hallooing lustily,
both singly and in chorus. They were just about
giving up the quest, when Lars's attention was at-
tracted by two foxes which, undismayed by the



x884.] MIKKEL. 31

noise, were running about a large fir-tree, barking
in a way which betrayed anxiety, and stopping
every minute to dig up the ground with their fore-
paws. When the boys approached the tree, the
foxes ran only a short distance, then stopped, ran
back, and again fled, once more to return.
Those fellows act very queerly," remarked
Lars, eying the foxes curiously; "I '11 wager
there are young un's under the tree here, but"
-Lars gasped forbreath -" Ole -Ole Oh, look!
What is this ?"
Lars had caught sight of a pair of heels, from
which a little stream of blood had been trickling,
coloring the stones and pine-needles. Ole Thom-
lemo, hearing his comrade's exclamation of fright,
was on the spot in an instant, and he compre-
hended at once how everything had happened.
Look here, Lars," he said resolutely, "this is
no time for crying. If Thor is dead, it is we
who have killed him; but if he is n't dead, we've
got to save him."
Oh, what shall we do, Ole?" sobbed Lars, while
the tears rolled down over his cheeks, "what shall
we do? I shall never dare go home again if he is
dead. We have been so very bad to him "
We have got to save him, I tell you," repeated
Ole, tearless and stern; "we must pull him out;
and if we can't do that, we must cut through
the roots of this fir-tree ; then it '11 plunge down the
mountain-side, without hurting him. A few roots
that have burrowed into the rocks are all that keep
the tree standing. Now, act like a man. Take
hold of him by one heel and I'll take the other."
Lars, who looked up to his friend as a kind of
superior being, dried his tears and grasped his
brother's foot, while Ole carefully handled the
wounded ankle. But their combined efforts had
no perceptible effect, except to show how inex-
tricably the poor lad's clothes were intertangled
with the tree-roots, which, growing all in one
direction, made entrance easy, but exit impos-
"That wont do," said Ole, after three vain
trials. "We might injure himwithout knowing it,
driving the sharp roots into his eyes and ears,
as likely as not. We 've got to use the hatchets.
You cut that root and I'11 manage this one."
Ole Thomlemo was a lumberman's son, and
since he was old enough to walk had spent his life
in the forest. He could calculate with great
nicety how a tree would fall, if cut in a certain
way, and his skill in this instance proved valuable.
With six well-directed cuts he severed one big
root, while Lars labored at a smaller one. Soon
with a great crash the mighty tree fell down the
mountain-side, crushing a dozen birches and

smaller pines under its weight. The moss-grown
sod around about was torn up with the remaining
roots, and three pretty little foxes, blinded and
stunned by the rush of daylight, sprang out from
their hole and stared in bewilderment at the sud-
den change of scene. Through the cloud of flying
dust and feathers the boys discerned, too, Thor's
insensible form, lying outstretched, torn and bleed-
ing, his face resting upon his hands, as if he were
asleep. With great gentleness they lifted him up,
brushed the moss and earth from his face and
clothes, and placed him upon the grass by the side
of the brook which flowed through the bottom
of the glen. Although his body was warm, they
could hardly determine whether he was dead or
alive, for he seemed scarcely to be breathing, and
it was not until Ole put a feather before his mouth
and perceived its faint inward and outward move-
ment, that they felt reassured and began to take
heart. They bathed his temples with the cool
mountain water and rubbed and chafed his hands,
until at last he opened his eyes wonderingly and
moved his lips, as if endeavoring to speak.
"Where am I?" he whispered at last, after
several vain efforts to make himself heard.
Why, cheer up, old fellow," answered Ole, en-
couragingly; "you have had a little accident,
that's all, but you '11 be all right in a minute."
"Unbutton my vest," whispered Thor again;
"there is something scratching me here."
He put his hand over his heart, and the boys
quickly tore his waistcoat open, but to their unut-
terable astonishment a little fox, the image of the
three that had escaped, put his head out and
looked about him with his alert eyes, as if to say:
"Here am I; how do you like me?" He evi-
dently felt so comfortable where he was, that he
had no desire to get away. No doubt the little
creature, prompted either by his curiosity or a de-
sire to escape from the den, had crept into Thor's
bosom while he was insensible, and, finding his
quarters quite to his taste, had concluded to re-
main. Lars picked him up, tied a string about
his neck, and put him in the side-pocket of his
jacket. Then, as it was growing late, Ole lifted
Thor upon his back, and he and Lars took turns
in carrying him down to the valley.
Thor's ankle gave him some trouble, as the
wound was slow in healing. With that excep-
tion, he was soon himself again; and he and
Mikkel (for that was the name he gave to the little
fox) grew to be great friends and had many a frolic
But the little fox was not a model of deportment,
as you will see when I tell you, in the next chapter,
how Mikkel disgraced himself.

(To be continued.)




THERE 'S a land in a latitude near to us all
Where each dweller may follow his bent;
It is under no monarch's tyrannical thrall,

While a tear in the trousers or darn in the dress
You consider a capital thing.

And is known as the Isle of Content. If you have n't the money to purchase a meal
(I have been in that strait once or twice),
It's a wonderful spot: if you ask, it will bring Take a reef in your vest and you 'll instantly feel
To you quickly whatever you desire; (If you live in Content) "very nice."
What it can not produce- (it's a singular thing),-
That is just what you never require. When I notice a lad with a bright, sunny smile

By the balmiest zephyrs of Happiness fanned,
It is neither too cold nor too hot,
And the lassies and lads never care in this land
Whether school is in session or not.

In Content, tho' but poor, yet you feel, ne'erthe-
You are equal in wealth to a king,

That extends for three inches, or more,
Then I nudge myself inwardly, thinking, the
He 's encamped on Content's happy shore."

1 have dwelt on this beautiful island at times,
While inditing small verses for you,
And I often have wondered if, reading my rhymes,
You were there as a resident, too.

~i-& --~----~-'--~~-;""

(Disrespectfully dedicated to young readers of trasy literature.)

I HAVE great difficulty at first in making any
one believe that I am a detective, because I
hav'n't a hooked nose, nor a fierce black mustache,
nor a restless, penetrating gray eye. On the con-
trary, my nose is aquiline, I have no mustache at
all, and my eyes are mild and blue. But this has
nothing to do with the cruise of the pirate-ship
" Moonraker."

noon-I was idly resting at Police Station No. I,
and the reserve squad were sitting about the
room, with their coats, vests, and collars off, try-
ing to keep cool. We were discussing the adven-
tures of a small boy who had run away from his
home in the country a short time before, and had
made an attempt to start for the West to be an
Indian-fighter. I had caught him, while he was

One afternoon in August-a hot, sultry after- trying to buy a worn-out musket from a pawn-



broker. We found that his head had been turned
by reading flash," or trashy, stories, and we
locked him up overnight and sent him back to
his father, the homesickest, meekest, and worse-
scared youth you ever saw. Well, as I said,
we were talking over his case, and Officer Bounce
was saying that.if that boy were his son, he would
keep him locked up in the smoke-house for a year,
when suddenly the telegraph instrument began

to click L. M.," which was the call for Station I,
concluding with "K.," which meant that it came
from the sub-station on the river front.
The operator answered the call, and took down
quite a long message. Then he gave a sharp
whistle, and ran into the captain's office. A mo-
ment after, the captain rushed out, with the dis-
patch, which he read aloud:

"A gang of river roughs have stolen a yacht, and are sailing up
the river,-setting fire to the shipping near Harbor street. The
police-boat is getting up steam. I have sent the alarm of fire.
Make the greatest haste.
"DALTON, Captain of Sub-station."

The men sprang to their feet, and the captain
said quietly to the sergeant of the reserves, for
there was no use in getting excited:
"Sergeant: Report with your men on the police-
boat at once, and take what measures are neces-
sary for the suppression of whatever lawlessness is
going on. Telegraph if you need assistance. Mr.
VOL. XII.-3.

Glenn," he said, turning to me, "come into my
office. I have something else for you to do."
Now, you may believe that I was disappointed at
this turn of affairs. I was expecting to have a
stirring time with the men on the police-boat; for
if a gang of roughs were really trying to burn up
the city, it meant the liveliest kind of a row. How-
ever, I had to do as the captain said, and there-
fore I followed him rather sulkily into his office.

. T EF r.-., TrF. r,-:.! E,_VL . i,_- .LE.. ,. [ EF- r .- :: 1 .]

To nim L.. pri ': I, :, lI dr.:i d ] idy i' -eated
thcrc, ,u:.,n i r,-:,, ,',i-'.l &-- M r'. C ,rltr: fro o, n,
tl- ; I ',;I- ,," ..,f :n- ,f" II. i.-:idin n-r,,-i.:h-i ni, otf the
:'t t SIiL h-,id n.:4 rlv -I-h..--:r .:i: [h:i I [ knew
v i -,:, -h: .: r, r, i nj -, z i.., I- th.: .-:iptain
entered the room she burst into tears (which I
could see were not the first she had shed that
afternoon), and exclaimed:
"Oh, Captain! My poor child! Have you
learned anything about him? Can anything be
done ?"
The captain turned to me and said: "Glenn,
go with this lady to her house. She 'll tell you
her story on the way, and you must do what you
think best about it." And he winked with that
eye which was concealed from Mrs. Bronson's
vision, to let me know that the case was not as bad
as she thought. Mrs. Bronson had risen from her
seat before he could conclude his orders to me,
and she said beseechingly:
"Oh, come at once, Mr. Glenn! There is not
a moment to lose. My carriage is waiting at the
Surely enough, the carriage was waiting, and
a number of small boys and two or three reporters
were waiting also, astonished at the sight of the
elegant equipage in that locality. One of the


reporters tried to button-hole me, but I got into
the carriage safely with the lady, who called to the
coachman: "Don't lose a moment. Get me
home as quickly as possible." And we rolled
away so rapidly that the reporters gave us up, and
went into the station to make life miserable for the
Mrs. Bronson told me that, while she was absent
from home on a shopping expedition that morn-
ing, the house had been entered by burglars, who
had stolen a great deal of the family silver and
most of her own jewelry. But this was not the
worst of their depredations, for they had kid-
napped her youngest child, little Harry, aged
twelve years; and at this point Mrs. Bronson
wept again, and was unable to go on with her
story until we reached the house. There she told
me that Harry was a very quiet and studious boy,
and spent most of his time reading in his room.
It was quite impossible that he had gone out with
any of his little friends without saying anything
about it, for he was obedient and tractable, and
never left the house without informing some one
where he was going. I told Mrs. Bronson that it
would be impossible for burglars to enter the
house and carry away valuables in the middle of
the day, especially as the servants were about at
the time; but she was quite indignant that I
should combat her theories. She showed me
the places where the missing silver and jewelry had
been kept; and I informed her that the articles
had been stolen by some one familiar with the
premises, at which she seemed inclined to send me
back to the station.
However, when I asked to be shown her boy's
room, she took me into a prettily furnished apart-
ment, containing more appliances for the amuse-
ment of a boy of twelve than I supposed had ever
been invented. Connected with this room was a
smaller sleeping-apartment, and at the sight of the
little white bed, Mrs. Bronson went into a third
fit of weeping. She seemed to forget my pres-
ence, and finally went to the little bureau and
opened the drawers, one after the other, to gaze
at the articles which had belonged to her lost boy.
I was in no hurry, as I am paid by the year,
and so I sat down in an easy-chair and tried to
think out some theory for the disappearance of the
silver and jewelry. I was sure that the boy had
not been kidnapped. In the first place, he was
too old; and then, too, he had been missed only
a few hours, and had probably gone off to play
with some of his friends.
While I was engaged in these reflections, a very
"swell" young man, of about twenty-one years,
entered the room -one of those young men who
maintain an equilibrium by parting their hair in

the middle and wearing a watch in each side of
the waistcoat. This particular young man further
balanced a slender cane, which he carried in his
right hand, by a yellow kid glove in the left. Mrs.
Bronson fell on his neck and shed tears on his
standing collar, which threatened to melt it down
from its glossy altitude under his adolescent chin.
"Oh, my dearest Charles!" she exclaimed.
" You are all I have left now. Your little brother
Harry has been kidnapped by burglars! "
Charles looked as if he did n't care very much,
but he said:
"Aw, you don't mean it! But what do you
think Somebody has stolen my yacht, the 'Norse-
man.' Can't find her anywhere. Awful bore,
you know, because I 'd invited a party to go out
this afternoon."
While they were talking, I caught a glimpse of a
soiled, yellow-covered book in one of the bureau
drawers. I took it up. It was The Adventures of
Wild Bill; and scattered about the drawer were
several others with similar titles, such as Dare-devil
Dick, the Terror of the Seas, The Boy Pirate,
The Symbol of the Red Hand, and The Pirate's
Bride. The truth flashed upon me in a moment.
The boy's mind had been poisoned by reading
this trash, and he had stolen his mother's silver
and his brother's yacht to go on a piratical cruise
of his own. That might account, also, for the mes-
sage which came to the police station, about roughs
burning up the shipping. Possibly Harry, with
some of his companions, had set fire to something,
and the story had been exaggerated-as stories
generally are before reaching the station.
I said nothing of my theories to Mrs. Bronson
or her son; but merely informing her that I had
a clew which I thought sufficient to work upon, and
that I would guarantee to bring back her child
before morning, I left the house and went directly
to the station, where I laid my views before the
captain. He told me that Mr. Bronson had been
in since I left, and that he, knowing more of boy-
nature than his wife, had an idea that his son might
have run away, particularly as he had also taken a
hint from the yellow-covered literature in Harry's
room. The captain told me to go and look for the
stolen yacht along the river front, and to take pos-
session of it if I found it in charge of Harry and his
companions,-for, of course, he had taken com-
panions with him. Meantime, he would send Mr.
Bronson on board the police-boat, and instruct his
men to look for the yacht, up and down the river.
I knew the mooring-place of the "Norseman" in
front of the boat-club houses, and I went, at once, to
the spot. There I found additional indications that
boys had been at work, for a bonfire had been kin-
dled; and no boy ever started out on an adventure


of any kind that did n't include a fire. The flame
had set fire to a boat-house, and had burned it to
the ground, which had probably-as I surmised--
started the rumor of roughs burning the shipping.
I walked down the river until I had left the city a
mile behind, and in a little bay I caught sight of a
yacht moored to a wooden pier which had belonged
to an old boat-house, now falling to decay. It was
the "Norseman," but over the name on the stern a
piece of coarse, brown packing-paper had been

jewelry-casket; but Harry and his companions were
nowhere to be seen. I started to go up again, but
just as my eyes rose to a level with the deck, a
small hand seized my collar, and the touch of the
cold steel of a revolver against my temple made me
shiver, while a boy's voice screamed excitedly:
"Another step, you varlet, and I fire "
Half a dozen boys, from ten to fifteen years
of age, clustered around me. What could I do?
Mrs. Bronson's beloved youngster was holding



tacked, which bore in rudely painted letters the
words, "The Moonraker," and an attempt at a
representation of a skull and cross-bones.
There were no boys to be seen on the deck of the
yacht, and I concluded that they had left her and
gone ashore on a foraging expedition. Accordingly,
I went out on the end of the pier and jumped
aboard. The yacht was a small vessel, about
thirty feet in length, and it had a cabin amidships.
Into this cabin I descended, and there, in a con-
fused heap, was a pile of silver and Mrs. Bronson's

to my head a glistening seven-shooter, which
carried a number thirty-two cartridge, as big as
the end of ny little finger, and a boy could pull
that trigger vith just as fatal results as a man. A
boy of his age, too, would be just foolish enough
never to give a thought to the fact that he was com-
mitting an act which would blight his whole life.
The only thing to do was to submit as grace-
fully as possible, and so those boys tied me hand
and foot with heavy cord, which is always a part
of the boy-adventurer's outfit. He may want it


to tie up Indians with, you know. I saw that
Harry Bronson had for his companions a number
of rough street-boys, some of whom were older
than himself, and who had come on the trip merely
for the fun of it. He had his father's revolver,
however, and they stood in some awe of that and
of his fine clothes. But this feeling would soon
have worn off, and then they would have done as
they pleased with him and the yacht. At present,
however, he was commander, and he now gave
orders to make sail. I was afraid the boys would
be unable to run the yacht; but as there was
a dead calm, I knew they could not get into
Of course, Harry was unaware that I was a de-
tective-my appearance being, this time, in nmy
favor-and they had only captured me on the
general principle that a pirate-ship is hardly a
success without a few prisoners. Master Harry
did me the honor to converse with me as I lay in
the hot cabin. He told me that his :i:,iic i i ,
" The Boy Terror," and seemed very rfuch sur-
prised when I told him what his name really was.
I just left your mother," I said, and if you
knew how badly.,she felt, and could see her crying
and sobbing because her son, whom she had
always considered an honorable little gentleman,
had actually become a thief, I think you 'd be
inclined to go back home, and leave these dirty
little rascals you 've picked out for companions."
Harry winced at the allusion to his mother's
grief, which made me think that he was not a bad
boy at heart, and I believe that in time I could
have induced him to take the yacht back quietly,
if one of the boys on deck had not called out:
Hullo, Terror Here comes a boat."
Harry bustled up on deck. I had no doubt
that it was the police-boat, as no merchant vessels
navigated that part of the river. But whatever it
was, it did not come up to us, and a bend in the
river soon hid us from sight. Ere long, "The Boy
Terror" came into the cabin again, and the boys on
deck had evidently talked him into carrying out
his piratical designs. Nothing I could say moved
him. He gave me the cheerful information that
I was to be hanged at sunrise. I informed him
that I was glad he had decided not to make me
walk the plank, for I might have got my feet wet.
Then I told him he ought to be ashamed to
steal his brother's boat, especially as that young
nobleman had invited some friends to go out in it
that afternoon.
"Pooh !" said The Boy Terror." I asked
Charlie if I could take the yacht this morning,
and he stuck a one-barreled eye-glass in his eye -
(he tries to be awfully English since he went abroad
for three months, and he's practicing with that

eye-glass at home 'cause he 's afraid to try it yet in
the street) and then he called me a 'nuisance.'
I 'm going to capture him, and not send him home
until I get a ransom. I should n't think Papa
would pay anything to get him back, though," he
added, meditatively.
It grew late in the afternoon, and, as no wind
sprang up, the yacht still lay in the little bay, near
the old boat-house. When it began to grow dark
in the cabin, I asked, to be allowed to go on deck
and see the sun set for the last time, as I was to be
hanged in the morning. Accordingly, my feet
were loosened enough for me to go upstairs, and
I was permitted to lie down on the deck.
"Bo's'n called The Boy Terror," pipe all
hands to supper."
And disappearing into the cabin, he brought up
a square tin box, labeled in gilt letters Cake."
This was filled with nice fresh cakes, which he
informed me, the cook had baked for him that
morning; and he fed me one or two of them as I
lay with my hands and feet tied.
We watched the sun go down into the river be-
low us; and when the moon came up and fantastic
shadows lengthened upon the water, and uncouth
shapes were revealed in the shades upon the shore,
" The Boy Terror became remarkably quiet and
subdued. To keep his courage up, he began to
relate wonderful stories of the adventures of Cap-
tain Kidd and other pirates.
I 'm going to write a song like Captain
Kidd's," he said. I 've begun it already:
Oh, my name was The Boy Terror, as I -sailed,
And many wicked things I did, as I sailed.
Oh, I murdered--

"What's your name?" he asked, suddenly
breaking off.
John Flood," I said, giving a name I some-
times went by.
The Terror continued:

Oh, I murdered John Flood, as I sailed,
And left him in his blood, as I sailed."

This was cheerful; but here he suddenly
stopped, for the hoarse throbbing of a steamer
sounded over the still waters, and soon a red eye
of fire shot into the night from the river's bend. I
divined at once that it was the powerful lantern of
the police-boat, which, since it made directly to-
ward us, had probably been directed to our location
by some one who had seen the yacht from the shore.
The boys sprang to their feet in consternation
as the vessel came up alongside,, and turned full
upon us a calcium light, which made everything
as bright as day on board the yacht. I saw among
the policemen on board the other boat, a well-



dressed gentleman, who carried a lithe and supple
cane, and I knew it was Mr. Bronson, the father
of "The Boy Terror." He caught sight of his
son, and called out excitedly:
"There's the little rascal, now! What do you
mean, sir, by running away from home and fright-
ening your mother almost to death?"
At this moment the boats were close enough for
the officers to jump from one to the other. But
" The Boy Terror" suddenly remembered that he
was a pirate, and he drew the revolver.
You little idiot I cried. Put that up, or
you'll hurt somebody! And the officers, who
were preparing to jump aboard, shrank back.
"Never mind that pop-gun!" shouted Mr.
Bronson, furiously. It is n't loaded, and never
has been." And he suddenly jumped upon the
deck, snatched the revolver from the Terror's
grasp, threw it overboard, and began to wield that
lithe and supple cane swiftly and fiercely over the
unfortunate young pirate's back and shoulders.
"The Boy Terror" screamed, begged, and im-
plored; he promised to "be good" and "never
to do so again," but his father did not cease plying

the cane until he was satisfied that the boy's pun-
ishment was complete.
"There, you young vagabond," he exclaimed,
"that 's the first whipping I ever gave you, but it
will not be the last." And he took him by the
collar upon the police-boat, where the vanquished
pirate crept abjectly into a corner and wept with
pain and mortification.
You should have seen the officers laugh when
they found me tied hand and foot. They laugh
about it to this day, and I probably never shall
hear the last of it.
Never was a piratical cruise more thoroughly
broken up. We took The Boy Terror's asso-
ciates to the station, and scared them well by locking
them up overnight. Young Harry Bronson fared
worse; for his father restricted him to bread and
water and one room, for a week. However, his
" swell" brother, Charles, had compassion on him,
and looked in upon him without the one-barreled
eye-glass, and brought him Robinson Crusoe and
The Swiss Family Robinson. Harry is a young
man now, but he is said to still dislike to hear allu-
sions to the cruise of the pirate-ship Moonraker."




a L ure Iot7.


... -!..,
c,,,/j~i .,

-.. 'a. ., ''

- .~- a
,a... ~




here'5 noJih i jhr in alI ie world',
0ahed te Niclen 6,11 fo lor
ANT ere's ? -eart
e, aA cowupn the, eAhr
But kas a crunmple4 horn"
She wrung her bn d d veryX
%eweptlob" cdear, ,hat $ sha' I Jo ?
T$he whole wicle world frlorn
7' even r veryIX S is bi!
here flO nlflwort Vie ivilf
(jJaic she wk, many a, A
W 9c1 se k sotneeek go-n ea Q fa r- ok
/k, in cW cow Inl;~
W.4 ere ene& hawfhorn tree
VVl I t6 lie down ac

Dover the hilly an4 clown the calex
) &ncdrecl the -two tokefher.
lqe A lbhed tM W1e 6 )blue-birds L
In teIw aye7, Wrrm $'rnj we!t er.'
BY mzxy rarfture rm wite wj as
Bvm 1 zriecn mournfully
By m Vny Z o tbrX thxrcfl, r
$Bur ever te Zijzien mrourn 1 wn
be vol she chrrie-cl

inil orld jjr f,~
N eVer n, 6wt orn tree ?

J .-


0Sho w&$ hocinj aewzy in '& feliof cor.n
His clintier-aI s0ooc1 a&t ihe hot OT fc
HW5 ftatered oW 'Coat IV beside it WiWe 4e
Tfier~; be;l xa 1e W

r~rn 4ovvt th cI
a.e 6w1,et weikhe hoiatir br, sitfkv
w0' heth fet'p-i in wkichb tor C

0We M'g 4,~ I
j -
N4 lie16 re 10 0 -0cen 'wIiao/r!
TOte -rn to cpl /O
SO0 over, f~e hills e4 4o lowtv the 48ees'
w-01'y~cpc6[ Ttve rcc Tobfet~e
Tj It rfkz (- 71, L 4\,c rook Ufaf ripph lkflw
Over -Qmys Wkere -[e Spez--miuf --rowx

316 '14 Aoll,4ressct n LeaG f-

F E.'

ood moIrmv! U004 movni 'fL WWrn
rtn, MY m 1'fa
CL~ ,.,! r P, '),pa~
Ac where areo W7 ?e L1p0tke;
oSne4 themal alM'au4et.ar
we tyV0alf, -tt k e P
To ct- I cattt ftte kowtkornLrtr


"~~SC' '
~ ,.,,




I I11';11r i II1~/1nv II




o over the hillS n"c jown the aJtes
Wa&ncfepec the /fUP together:
Tie rii4clfe4d. Cow w/th j-fe C'timuple4d H0o1',
The Pretty Maider all forlopti,
Tr Atam wit' k4is (oaft all tttehe4 -torn
1ycEL tfve Old4 awV dcressed in Leather;

A-^ 1w1y met, L7 the rock kltere e Cwolumbines 'row,
O'it ekey Mecp ad
Witk& hiie ey op^ 4er Ctpbfotx.rd

,W'kilc a ICnI
A Evel 1o1d0 sa

if to 0.ro,
thlt ran LSicj.e l-he7
;s311iiy hee.

- C.



S., "Went all tl..e jri Jr- y i.,
fke ea. e on C'd t cj

4 uch. & ner, mer y 11.
As Jke brooks i ine

or fke ih.tr drop s5
On a sunny t48Y.,
as t"Whv -Ihey 4ik1 ne on ,E C ; wAtss

1m t

.. /



o wonderfully jolly Wherdn1ey heaL4tlis^ic
3, J!ea4 Couod hear- if Al) -e six Atopbpe crjyinj
6e mejancloJy- henihere tamelt~o joyo
hae happy air did run mfrjki tie/ ceasedthfieici
Srippuji' JaxLJ adownr Ere ey knew it,bac r
oteotI.5iXJnc! cI-ains YLJjp cC"1 Jon' OBE w '10.) 1iq l
oner1'e ., w.'iL CSan e)S. 1E1very o-Ne wdj d.Jo)n Jb
one, ( i/" h a t< will-. the playii 0
,. lka.+ hkeviuw ^**^ ?hll M.^ < ..,/ <-^'


rj dCae -o a, sudden haki
Sby wji> a ,ra.n o/CJaJfT

1the~rsd- e kills ot a
jaC)ornr, fsat ow 1 raj-
N, wt wratj inv her eye ,
Up ilno -Jte sky.
tfa'i^ae in Leatker
xtross e hills* tfoeter
0rjo SaT dowrvt dry

Th, ff A i ..
7TA deA al Attred a&Krn
A/ie/ /AeffAe ll /fr/orn
7Tat milked Aie Cow wc wZJe crtw/ed $fom
77Zat f ,ssed 'f11e D
7%a'f wr-ried /i e fef-

.L. CK imt/ .-
jli i i


_ __ ~~_~

~ U~L~
--- II ''




THOUGH America was, in truth, a new world"
to Europeans when Columbus discovered it for
them, it was no new world to many of the races
and tribes which inhabited various parts of its vast
surface. For three centuries before the time of
Columbus, Peru, in South America, had been a
great country, containing large cities and rich in
gold and silver. It was ruled by kings, or chiefs,
called Incas, and, as many of you know, the last
Inca was the one who was captured by Francisco
Pizarro, the Spaniard, who conquered Peru in
1532. From that time until about fifty years ago,
when it revolted and became a republic, Peru was
under the dominion of Spain.
Cuzco,* the ancient capital of the old Inca Em-
pire of Peru, is situated high-up among the Andes,

at a point so elevated that, although under the
tropics, it has the climate and products of the
temperate zone. It still has many remains of Inca
architecture, distinguished for its massiveness, and
these are likely to endure for centuries to come.
On a hill nearly a thousand feet high, overlooking
the present city of Cuzco, are the remains of the
great Inca fortress of the Sac-sa-hua-man, in the
storming of which, Juan Pizarro, the brother of the
conqueror of Peru, was slain. This fortress was
built of gigantic stones, or rather rocks, and their
great size and the accuracy with which they are
fitted together astonish all who see them.
In front of this fortress is a curious, dome-shaped
mass of rock, called the Ro-da-dero, and some-
times also La Piedra Lisa, or smooth rock,"

* Pronounced Koos'ko.



because its convex surface is grooved, as if the
rock had been squeezed up, while in a plastic state,
between irregular and unyielding walls, and then
hardened into shape. A mass of dough, forced up
underthe. outspread hands, would give something
of the same appearance in miniature. But the
hollows of the grooves on the Peruvian hill are
smooth and glassy. It is said in the old chronicles
and traditions, that the Inca youth, long years
ago, amused themselves by coursing, or sliding,
through these polished grooves on festival days and
holy-days; and this custom is still practiced by the
modern youth of Cuzco. It must have been an
amusing sight to have seen the royal "Children
of the Sun," as they called themselves, sitting on
the cold rock, going at full speed, and full of fun,
from top to bottom, down the hill. And if the
customs and dress of the present Cuzco boys are
like those of their ancient predecessors, three hun-
dred years ago, we can form some idea of the
There is one advantage, and it is a great one,
too, which these boys possess over the northern
boys, who live in the land of ice and snow, and
that is, it is not necessary for them to toil up a long
and slippery hill, dragging after them their heavy
sleds, which grow heavier with every step they take,
so that the longer they ride the harder work it is
to get back to the starting-place. The Cuzco boy
sits down at the top of the rock in one of the grooves,
and, with a slight start, away he goes with all the

speed imaginable, until he reaches the bottom,
landing in a soft bed of earth; then he picks him-
self up, runs around to an easy place of ascent,
and is up again in a minute to repeat his ride. It
no doubt occurs to many of you that there would
be trouble in store for some of the youngsters on
their arrival at home in the evening with their
clothes torn and the heels and toes of their boots
worn out. That no doubt would be the case if
they lived in a country like ours; but in Peru it
makes but little difference if a boy is well dressed
or not; and as for shoes, he never wears them,
but goes barefoot all the year round, and all
through life.
On the summit of the rock is a series of broad
seats, cut in the rock itself, rising one above the
other, like a stair-way, and called "The Seats of
the Inca." It is said the Incas, or Kings, them-
selves came here to watch the construction of the
fortress. From these seats they could also watch
the gay sports of the boys, and perhaps recall the
happy time when they were boys themselves, just
as the old boys of our land often do, when watch-
ing the sports of their descendants.
But the glory of Cuzco has gone, and the royal
Incas are no more. The city that was once the seat
of an advanced civilization and the home of great
and powerful kings, is now in a state of decay, and
the descendants of the Inca kings are but sorry
specimens of humanity,--ignorant, ragged, dirty,
poorly fed, and rapidly passing away.


ERHAPS I am little. But what of that?
l I am big enough to find Charley's hat
\ .He. left it here with its queer little feather,
Lying right out in the wind and weather.
S' He's searching now; I can hear him call;-
Never thinking of me, because I am small.
He's shouting and calling to this one, and that,
say, have you seen my gray felt hat? "

Oh, yes, I 've seen it! But he does n't know.
,w, He thinks I am nothing but Baby Bo.
That's what they called me before I could walk;
SAnd now I can run, and jump, and talk.
S Iee him stooping and hunting out there in the hay!
SHe'd find it right off, if he 'd just look this way.
Why does n't he see me ? Oho Oho!
He thinks I am nothing but Baby Bo!







S I.
OH, the bicycle boys,
'The bicycle boys!
They care not for tops
Or babyish toys;
They're done with their hobbies
And that sort of play,
As mounted on nothing
They're off, and away!

Oh, the bicycle boys,
The bicycle boys!
They travel along
Without any noise.

They travel so softly,
They travel so fast,
They always get somewhere,
I 'm told, at the last.

They race with each other,
They race with a horse,
All sure they will beat '
As a matter of course;
And often they win,
And often they fall;-
Then down comes bicycle,
Boy, and all! "




The world was all before hint where to choose."
LET us suppose that a boy has arrived at the
age when he wants to answer for himself and
friends the question: ".What work shall I do?
What occupation shall I follow in which I can make
name and fame and money ?" And the boy some-
times, nay ofttimes, ruminating on this all-impor-
tant subject thinks, we will imagine, in this wise:
"I 'd like to be an architect or a house-builder.
I wonder how I'd be pleased with such work?
Wonder if it's hard? No; I 'd rather be a sea-cap-
tain. But how do boys ever get to be sea-captains?
To be a traveling salesman would be pleasant-to
go all around the country and see the different
cities, and stay only a little while here and a little
while there. Yes, that would be fine; but how do
boys get to be traveling salesmen, and is it really as
agreeable an occupation as I think it is ? Perhaps, to
keep a store might be better. Really, I wish I
did know what I would like to do best. I 've asked
Father; he 's a lawyer, and though they say he 's
great on authoritiess,' he is no authority on this
matter. He just says I must think of what I want
to be, and then start out. I do think, and the

VOL. XII.-4.

more I think, the less I am able to decide what 1
want. If I only knew some one who could give me
an idea about the good and bad features of the
different occupations that I think I should like,
why, I could decide very soon which one to take."
If I am right in supposing there are a large
number of boys who think as I have just suggested,
the series of sketches, of which this is the first,
will be found useful, My aim is to give in them
what might be called an inside view of various
trades and businesses which, as a rule, are attract-
ive to youth, and to help the lad in either making
his selection from a number of industries, or give
him more light on the one which he feels sure will
please him, but about the real nature of which he
has probably only a cursory knowledge. In other
words, the effort will be made to answer just such
questions as a boy would naturally ask about an
occupation while he was making up his mind as
to whether or not he would like to enter it.
On the general topic of how to succeed in life, I
shall in these articles have little .to say. Scores of
books have been written on success, and hundreds
of men, some great, but many small, have endeav-
ored to tell us the secret of success. I have read
many of these works, and doubtless my young

* Copyright by G. J. Manson, 1884.


readers have perused volumes of that kind; but I
have failed to find any new or short road to that
goal for which we all are striving.
And so, at the outset, let my young reader un-
derstand that I have no new or mysterious sug-
gestions to make on how he can be successful.
Let him remember that in each and all of the
occupations of which I shall speak, he must, if he
would reach a high place in the business, work
hard and be attentive, always willing to learn,
steady in his habits, that he must choose good
associates, and must have within him a thorough
determination to work up higher. Success in any
calling, it seems to me, depends on a great many
conditions, among which may be mentioned tem-
perament, industry, quickness to learn from your
own experience and the failures of those about
you, and an ever-watchful eye for opportunities to
reach a better position than the one you occupy.
I shall aim to make these articles thoroughly
reliable. 'The facts in regard to each calling have
been obtained, in personal interviews, from promi-
nent and trustworthy persons engaged therein.


THERE have been two important changes in the
drug business within the past few years. In the
first place, the scope of the drug store has been
enlarged. In old times the term "drug store"
indicated an establishment where simply drugs
were kept. Now you can go to many drug stores
and purchase cigars, tobacco, canes, umbrellas,
tea, coffee, stationery, confectionery, and many
kinds of fancy articles. Some say that druggists
have been forced into selling these goods on
account of the competition they have had to con-
tend against in the sale of patent medicines by dry-
goods establishments and book stores, and because
some of their own number sell the patent, or pro-
prietary, medicines below the regular marked price.
There is much truth in this statement, but I think
there is another reason to account for the practice,
and that is the increased rate of rent. In former
times the item of rent was not so great as it is now,
and the druggist could make a good living by con-
fining himself to drugs proper. Now the expense
for rent is a matter for serious financial considera-
tion. It is true that the business yields a large
percentage of profit, but the total sales are com-
paratively small. At one time, when the calling
was confined to its legitimate sphere, the profit
was fifty per cent. Now the average rate of profit
is probably twenty-five or thirty per cent.
In the second place, the drug clerks of to-day
are required to be better educated than those of
former times. Many of the men--in fact, most of

the men who are the owners of drug stores now-
learned the business simply by working with a
druggist for a greater or less period, and "picked
up their knowledge from behind the counter and
at the prescription desk. Literally, they have
"grown up" in the business.. Some got into it
accidentally. As boys, they were looking for
something to do, they found a situation in a drug
store, staid there because they could not find any
better place, gradually obtained a knowledge of
the business, and have made it their life-work. At
the present time, in most of the States, a drug
clerk is either required to serve a certain period in
a store, and to pass a satisfactory examination as to
his qualifications before he can become a licensed
druggist, or else he must be a graduate of a college
of pharmacy.
In the allusion just made to the druggists who
have not beer compelled to comply with these
conditions, I do not mean to be understood as
stating that they are all incompetent druggists
or pharmacists, for that- would be untrue. Some
men, under the most adverse circumstances, in
any trade, business, or profession.,will learn more
and do better than others with every advantage.
But it is not too much to affirm that, owing
to this condition of affairs in the past, there are
now many druggists and old clerks who have con-
tented themselves with obtaining only a superfi-
cial knowledge of their calling, and have burdened
themselves with no more than enough information
to get along quietly and comfortably. Hence, the
assertion can be safely made that there is room
for thoroughly competent, well-qualified drug
clerks and druggists.
Aside from the preliminary study required, it is
not what may be called an easy business, at least
in its early stages. It requires constant care, and,
even with the best of care, money and reputation
may be lost in a very shof2'space of time, not
through the fault of the druggist himself, but from
the negligence, carelessness,, dishonesty, or stu-
pidity of his clerks. But such'failures are rare, and
only call for incidental mention.
Now, what will a boy dorwho wants to be a
druggist? He should be an apt scholar, quick to
learn, and should have what may be called a good
technical memory; that is, the ability to keep in
mind arbitrary terms and phrases. A knowledge
of Latin, even of the rudimentary principles of
that language, would be found very useful, while
a taste for botany would be the very ground-
work for love of the occupation, and an almost
certain prophecy of success. He must have a good
knowledge of the English branches, and, though
he need not have a student's love for books, he
must not be absolutely averse to study. These




preliminaries borne in mind, let him, not earlier
than at the age of,sixteen, enter a drug store, tak-
ing for wages any sum that is offered. It will be
small, probably not more than two dollars a week,
and he will have'to board himself. But it is pre-
sumed that he lives at home, and that his parents
or guardians are giving him his living while he is
making his start in life. For a year or two he will
do little more than open and sweep out the store,
carry medicines to the homes of customers, learn
to do up packages neatly, and, perchance, his pro-
fessional acquirements will have grown so great
that he can be trusted to sell a seidlitz powder or
a small cake of Windsor soap. But, no matter what
he is allowed to do, he must, within two years, if
he is a bright, observing boy, have gathered con-
siderable miscellaneous information about drugs
and the drug business. 0
He is now prepared to enter a college of phar-
macy. There are sixteen of these colleges, or
schools, in the United States. There is a col-
lege of pharmacy at each of the following cities:
Albany, New York; San Francisco, California;
Chicago, Illinois; Cincinnati, Ohio; Louisville,
Kentucky; Baltimore, Maryland; Boston, Mas-
sachusetts; New York City, New York; Philadel-
phia, Pennsylvania; Pittsburg, Pennsylvania; St.
Louis, Missouri; Washington, D. C., and Iowa
City, Iowa. And there are schools of pharmacy
connected with the Michigan University, the Uni-
versity of Wisconsin, and the Vanderbilt Univer-
sity of Nashville, Tennessee.
It will not be necessary to speak of the method
of instruction in each of these institutions. It is
substantially the same in all. The plan pursued
in the New York College will serve to show what
is done in each. The full course extends over two
years, and is divided into junior and senior classes.
The instruction is by lectures and practical experi-
ments. In the department of material medical, all
the parts of plants and animals that are used in
medicine are described, the student being taught
where they come from, how they are obtained,
how they are used, and the proper doses to be
given. In the chemical department, all the funda-
mental principles of chemistry are presented and
the chief compounds carefully studied, with special
reference to their mode of occurrence in nature,
the methods employed in their preparation, their
effects upon and with other substances, the meth-
ods for determining their purity, and their applica-
tion in the arts. The great chemical operations are
investigated, and the chemistry of the metals and
organic chemistry studied in detail. Lectures are
given on botany, illustrated by plates, diagrams,
and plastic models. In the department of phar-
macy the student is taught how to make the fin-

ished product from the organic vegetable, or
chemical. Analytical chemistry is taught, and
the chemical nature of poisons, their antidotes,
and the methods for detecting them. The total
charge for full courses in the various departments
is sixty dollars. To those who comply with the
rules, and who pass a satisfactory examination,
diplomas, conferring the title of Graduate in Phar-
macy (Ph. G.), are granted.
The student is now, or ought to be, a good
pharmacist. He has had his early experience in
the drug store; he has obtained a large amount
of theoretical knowledge at the college, and has
seen there many interesting experiments in' the
laboratory and the lecture-room while attending
college. Possibly he has kept his position in the
store, working during the evenings of the week, in
which case he has had a great advantage, for he
has had daily opportunity to make a practical use
of some of the knowledge he has gained.
What does he do when he gets out of college?
If he is favorably situated financially, and feels
confident that he has the ability, he may open a
store for himself, or enter into partnership in some
concern already established. If neither of these
conditions exists, he will get a clerkship in a store.
Now he will receive say $12 a week, or more,
depending on the location of the store and the
liberality of his employer; also upon whether he is
in a large city, a good-sized town, or the country.
But all the time the ambitious worker is looking
forward to a store of his own. In this connection
it may be well to give a list of the number of
druggists in the United States. The following
table is believed to be approximately correct. The
number in some of the large cities is given, as well
as the number in the State.

Alabama............... 265
Arkansas ................ 365
California ............... 341
San Francisco............ 117
Colorado ................. 125
Connecticut.............. 282
Delaware................ 75
Florida .................. 90
Georia ............ ..... 278
Illinois ................... 1819
Chicago ................. 290
Indiana ................ 1386
Iowa .................. 1 55
Kansas ................. 665
Kentucky............... 666
Louisiana................ 257
M aine ................... 282
Balumore ................ 2o6
Massachusetts ........... 735
Boston................. 265
M ichigan ................ 974
Minnesota ............... 412
M ississippi............... 306
M issouri ................. 1236
St. Louis ................. 164

Nebraska................ 321
Nevada.................. 41
New Hampshire ......... 161
New Jersey ............. 538
New York............... 1550
New York City........... 572
Brooklyn ................ 337
North Carolina........... 200
Ohio .................... 1400
Cincinnati ............... 142
Cleveland................ 100too
Oregon ................. 103
Pennsylvania ........... 1320
Philadelphia ............. 464
Pittsburg ................ 77
Rhode Island ............ 112
South Carolina........... 163
Tennessee ............... 389
Texas ................... 635
Vermont................. 173
Virginia ................. 273
Washington, D. C........ x19
West Virginia........... 163
Wisconsin ............... 559
Territories ............... 205
Canada .................. 927

Now, it would not seem probable that a drug
clerk, without money of his own and with no


prospect of getting any by gift or inheritance,
could become the owner of a store. And yet, by
perseverance, ability, and energy, a great many
do. The amount of capital required to start the
business, of course, varies. The young apothe-
cary might start a little store in a small town for
$500. But it would look very plain indeed. There
would be very modest fixtures, common shelves,
no inclosed cases bordering the side walls.- One
authority says that no one ought to start with less
capital than from $2000 to $5000. Another thinks
$100ooo or $1500 would be sufficient. But no rule
can be laid down on this point, except that it
requires more money in large cities, less in smaller
cities and towns, and still less in villages, where,

strange to the reader; it certainly seemed strange
to me when I heard of it. But, after all, though
the financial backer might lose his money, the
young man has everything to gain by striving to be
successful, and loses everything if he acts negli-
gently or dishonestly.
Here is a true story, by way of illustration. A
young drug clerk wrote from the Far West to a
prominent pharmacist in New York, saying he
would like to come to the city and enter a store.
He came, but when the pharmacist questioned him
personally he found that his visitor had never put
up prescriptions written in Latin; consequently, he
could not get a situation. He did not know a soul
in the great city, not even the gentleman to whom


by the way, the druggist often combines the func-
tions of pharmacist and postmaster, or' keeps a
stock of newspapers and periodicals and a mis-
cellaneous assortment of cheap fancy articles.
Clerks of real ability, who have not only gained
the confidence of their employers, but have estab-
lished a reputation on account of their attainments,
their energy, an'd good management, can nearly
always find some responsible person who will back
them in starting a store. Sometimes a man will
loan the necessary amount and take a mortgage on
the business, but more often the mortgage is on
the personal responsibility, the ability, and the char-
acter of the young man. This may seem a little

he had written (until he met him at his store). He
sought in vain for a place, and finally found a sub-
ordinate position, where he was given five dollars a
week and had to board himself. He was a studious,
pushing, active young fellow, and soon managed to
attend the lectures at the College of Pharmacy.
The gentleman with whom he had corresponded
took an interest in him, and invited him to come
to his store and assist in the manufacturing of fluid
extracts. Once he showed his employer what he
could do in that line. The man was surprised.
"Why can't you do something of that kind for
me?" he asked. The clerk said he could, and
his salary (which, in the meanwhile had been




slightly increased) was raised to very respectable
proportions. He worked for a time in this way,
eventually receiving a salary of $50 a week ; final-
ly he opened a laboratory of his own, and to-day
he employs forty or fifty "hands." And yet, when
he arrived in New York he did not have a dollar,
and was without influence and without friends.
The successful young druggist must be a good
salesman. Many of the sales of medicines, espe-
cially in the city stores, are of the patent," or pro-
prietary, kind. Their name is legion. Most drug-
gists keep a good-sized catalogue containing a list
of the different varieties. Some of them are said to
be good, and many of them are undoubtedly bad.
Care in compounding prescriptions is of great
importance. Two druggists may put up the same
prescription, and the prescriptions will look the
same to-an-ordinary-observer, but there will be a
difference in the method of compounding them,
noticeable at once to the eye of a physician.
When a doctor finds a pharmacist who under-
stands his business, he is pretty sure to take pains
to recommend him to his patients. So the drug-
gist gets a good reputation, becomes better known,
and grows more prosperous from year to year.

As the making up of prescriptions requires great
care, a prescription clerk should be careful to have
" all his wits" about him. He should not suffer any
interruption or engage in conversation while he
is at his work. In the handling of poisons, it is
needless to say he should be exceedingly cautious,
for one mistake in dealing them out might cost
him his reputation for life. It is proper to add,
however, that the cases of carelessness of drug
clerks in this particular are yearly becoming more
rare. In many drug stores all the poisons are kept
on a shelf by themselves, each bottle being plainly
marked. In stores where this is done, it is claimed
that mistakes are less liable to occur than in places
where the bottles are put on shelves in' different
parts of the establishment.
The young druggist will be just to his subordi-
nates. Knowing that their work is hard, he will
allow them to take respites when business is dull.
He will keep up in his knowledge of pharmacy,
by reading one or more of the journals devoted to
the interests of druggists, and, having secured a
good location, he will endeavor to keep it all his
life, unless, for some very good reason, he believes
a change would be greatly to his advantage.



A DOZEN little dolls are we as happy as the day,
Black and white, short and tall, grave and grand and gay,
A dozen dolls all waiting here. Who will come and play?
Come and take us, little maidens, ere we run away.




PICTURES in a tea-cup? Well, the idea is not
altogether a new one, and many of my little friends
have, no doubt, tried the old-fashioned plan of
making pictures, or, as I think it is called, "telling
fortunes," in a
tea-cup. In
fact, I have. a
friend who is

quite renowned for her success as a fortune-teller
through her skill in shaking and tapping a tea-cup
until the grounds, or tea-leaves, in the bottom of
the tea-cup assume, in a rude way, certain shapes
or forms representing peo-
S ple, animals, and various
other images which she
professes to understand as
--referring in some way to rh.:
person whose fortune she
happens to be telling at the
time. I was present once
when she told, in this way,
the fortune,
of a young
lady. The
+ prophecy
and the
method of.

making it seemed to me to be very vague; but
the gist of it all was, that in a short time a young
gentleman of extremely prepossessing appearance
would arrive, and that he was, in some unexplained
way, to exert a powerful influence on the future
prospects of the young lady. Wishing to discover
what there was in the cup to warrant such a fore-
cast, I obtained possession of it without being ob-
served. In the bottom of the cup I
saw that the tea-leaves had assumed
Sa form which, with a little aid of the

might be ac-
cepted as re-
sembling a very
spare, delicate, and altogether di-
lapidated young man. With the
aid of a tea-spoon, and using a
few other grounds or leaves that
were lying on the bottom of the
cup, I quickly changed the young
man into a most disreputable-look-
ing old tramp, with a big bundle
on his back, and accompanied
by a ferocious-looking bull-dog.
Then I awaited the result. Pres-
ently, the young lady whose fortune had been fore-
told, took up the cup, with a blush of pleasure, to
examine its contents. The moment she saw the
dreadful figure of the old tramp, she exclaimed,



x884.J '. TEA-CUP LORE. 55

"What a horrid old fright!" Then there was a great practice for any one, not only
commotion,which was only quelled when I acknowl- in the way of drawing, but
edged my guilt. But I had learned something, also in cultivating the imagi-
which was that, with a little management, pictures nation. For instance, I give
of many kinds could be the cup a shake, and what
made in a tea-cup. do I see ? Old Mother Hub-
bard and her dog, perhaps,
or a hurdy-gurdy man
tramping along with the
hurdy-gurdy on his back; if he has a trained monk-
ey with him, it will be or ought to be on the top of
\ the hurdy-gurdy; if he has no monk-
I ey, a slight, dexterous handling of
the tea-spoon, and a few bits of tea-
Sleaves, will soon form the little animal.
Another shake,
and I see small
girl feeding
I ethe chickens.
Again, and I
And now I will ex- will see the sug-
plain how the pictures gestion of a his-
are made. First drink or slowly pour out all ,o torical charac-
the tea, which, by the way, should not have ter; perhaps
been too carefully strained, and then shake some character
the cup and observe what forms the tea-leaves and in a book- Rip Van Winkle, Barnaby Rudge, or
sediment at the bottom have taken. In each case The Marchioness. Then, again, it may be a dog,
something will be suggested, either a figure, ani- or a man on horseback. I may not be quite sure
mal, bird, or groups suggesting all of these; but it of the latter, but the spoon soon converts him into
will only be a suggestion for the imagina-
tion, not a perfect form. In order to make
it more perfect, take a tea-spoon, and by
adding more of the sediment and particles
of leaves to some parts, and taking away
from others, you will soon get the figure,
or whatever is suggested, into proper shape,
or drawing as artists say.
Now make a careful drawing on paper
of what you have formed, preserving as
nearly as possible the picture as it appears
in the cup. Any one
who has not tried to
make pictures in this way will a Cossack soldier.
be surprised to find how easy Another time it is
three black objects, the spoon comes into play
again, and then they are unmistakably bear cubs
having a frolic.
The pictures can be made all black, like a sil-
houette, or they can be white in parts, by remov-

it is to form and draw them after a little practice. ing all of the sediment, and leaving the white of
There is no limit to the number and variety of the cup for faces, hands, or other parts of the
pictures that can be made, and it is really good picture.


- ------ __,~;_~-

( e -

(Recacir ,n Pae iI U mtedUif Stale., Senrate.



THE Senate will come to order !" That is ex-
actly what he said, and when he said it. the
wheels of legislation began once more to revolve.
Probably you -do not- know what I am talking
about. Well, I will tell you.
When I was about thirteen years of age I was
appointed page to the Senate of the United States.
And before I proceed any further,-as this story
is a narrative of actual facts that I'trust will fur-
nish some instruction as well as amusement to my
young readers,-it would be well to make sure
that they understand me, at the outset, on a ques-
tion of law.
I presume, however, that many of the boys and
girls who read ST. NICHOLAS know what a gov-
ernment is, what it is for, and in what important
respect the government of the United States differs
from those of other countries of the world.
Of course, governments are necessary for the
protection of society, and the object of every
government is, or ought to be, to give to every
man, woman, and child, security as to life, lib-
erty, and property. To afford this security, laws
are made. But then laws are of no use unless
there are some means to compel obedience to
therm. For example, there are laws in nearly
every country against killing, stealing, and other
wrongs to life and property; and to deter people
from committing any of these wrongs, the laws
provide for the imposition of penalties -from the
severe penalty of death to that of imprisonment,
or the payment of a fine, according to the gravity

of the offense. The system, or institution, which
makes and enforces these laws constitutes a gov-
ernment. .Every government, therefore, should
possess three powers-first, the power to make
.laws; second,. the power to execute, them; and
third, the power to administer justice, by the re-
dress of grievances and the punishment of offend-
ers, in accordance with the laws. These three
powers are known respectively as the legislative, the
executive, and the judicial powers of a government.
In some nations these powers, reside in a single
person, and such a government is called an abso-
lute monarchy, or an autocracy. There is a gov-
ernment of this kind to-day in Russia. There, the
sovereign or monarch can do:as' he pleases, having
unlimited authority and control over the lives and
property of his subjects. The great distinction be-
tween our government and that autocracy is this-
that here the people rule. Every citizen of this vast
republic is a sovereign, and has a voice in saying
what laws shall be made, and who shall execute
them; As most of the people, however, can not
neglect their ordinary business affairs, they exercise
their right of government through certain persons
whom they elect to act for them. .Every official
in our government, from the highest to the lowest,
derives his power from the people.
The manner in which the powers of govern-
ment are distributed in 'the United "States is de-
clared in the great fundamental law of this country,
called the Constitution, which perhaps some.of you
know by heart. This constitution was ratified, or
agreed to, by the people of our republic nearly one
hundred years ago, and it begins in these words:
We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more
perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquillity, pro-



vide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and
secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do
ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of

Since the Constitution was established by our
forefathers, the republic has extended its power and
dominion from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean,
and it consists now of thirty-eight States, ten or-
ganized territories, the District of Columbia, and
Alaska, containing in; all 3,604,000 square miles,
and fifty millions of people. But to-day, as then,

the Constitution is the supreme law of the land,
sacred.to, every American; and as you grow older and
become more familiar with the history of human-
ity. and civilization, you will learn to reverence and
to love it, and be willing, as many have been in the
past, to lose your lives, if necessary, in its defense.
You ought, therefore, to read every word of the
Constitution, and to study it carefully, before you
grow to be men and citizens of our republic.
By the Constitution the government of the
Union (styled the '"general." or "federal"
government, to distiliguish 'it from the local
governments of.the States forming the Union)
is divided into three separate and .distinct
branches-the legislative, the executive, and
the judicial departments. .. The legislative de-

apartment is that which makes the laws-forthe
country, and is called Congress; and Congress is
composed of two bodies of men,-one.being known
as The Senate and the other as The House of Rep-
resentatives. Each State of the.Union sends two
men (called Senators) to the Senate and a cer-
tain number of men (called Representatives) to
the House of Representatives. .The number of
Representatives sent by each State depends upon
the population of the State. And every Territory
sends to the House one man, called a Delegate,

who may talk as much, as he pleases, but is not
allowed to vote in making laws. The District of
Columbia, which is neither a State nor a Territory,
has, like Alaska, no one to represent or to.speak a
kind word for it in Congress, although more people
reside in the District than in some of the States and
Territories that are represented. Of course, this
is hardly right; but. there are .many imperfect
features in our system of. government .that will,
I have no doubt, be improved when the boys of
the United States .become old enough to take a
hand in public .affairs. :
The manner in which the members, of the
House and Senate are chosen by the, people, I
will explain hereafter; but that you may :realize
what a great institution. Congress, or. the legisla-



tive department of the government, is, I will state
that, at the time I was appointed page, there
were seventy-four senators, and about three hun-
dred members of the House of Representatives.
The executive department of the government
consists of a great many officers, headed by the
President of the United States, who is also chosen
by the people, and is sometimes styled the Chief
Magistrate of the country; and it is his duty, and
the duty of his subordinate officers, to see that the
laws which are made by Congress are executed-
that is, carried into effect.
The judicial department of the government is
vested in a great many courts, the principal one
being the Supreme Court of the United States;
and it is their duty to "administer" the laws.
When appealed to, they should decide upon con-
troversies involving the legal rights of parties, and
dispense the relief or inflict the punishment pre-
scribed by law. In adjusting differences, they are
empowered to expound, or explain, the meaning
of dubious legislation. For frequently Congress so
mixes up the language of a law or statute, that it
costs much time and money before the courts
ascertain what Congress really intended when it
enacted the law.
I have made this perhaps tedious explanation that
you may know clearly what Congress is -that it is
the department of the federal government which
makes the laws. The members of Congress are,
therefore, law-makers, and are called Congressmen;
every senator is a Congressman, and so is every
member of the House of Representatives. Before
I conclude I shall endeavor to present to you a
general idea of the proceedings of Congress in
making laws, and of certain special prerogatives
belonging to each "House in addition to this law-
making power. But you understand now what a
law-maker is.
Well, the congressmen meet together or "as-
semble" in the city of Washington at noon, on
the first Monday of each December, and they hold
their meetings, or sessions, in the huge white build-
ing known as the Capitol, of which you have all seen
pictures in your geographies. They talk and
talk and legislate (which- simply means to make
laws for the people) for about three months in
one year and about seven months the next year,
and so on alternately, thus having more holidays
than the boys and girls who go to school.
The senators meet in a large room in the north-
ern wing of the Capitol, and the members of the
House of Representatives meet in a still larger
room in the opposite wing; and in going from.one
room to the other, you have to pass through the
great rotunda of the building. This rotunda may
be- considered neutral space,, separating the two

legislative halls, like the dividing line between two
empires; and for one of the bodies to infringe
upon the privilege of the other to control its par-
ticular wing of the Capitol-building would be as
much an evidence of hostility as for the army of
one nation to invade the domain of another.
While each House of Congress is independent
of the other, so far as the conduct of its own pro-
ceedings and the management of its own affairs
are concerned, yet the Senate is usually looked
upon and spoken of by the people as the Upper
House." Ithasbeen called "the grandest delibera-
tive bodytheworld has ever seen," and the senators
are supposed to be like the senators of Venice,
whom Othello addressed as "most potent, grave,
and reverend Seigneurs." There is an iceberg
dignity about the Senate that fills a spectator with
awe, and that would almost freeze a smile before
it could break into a laugh.
The senators are very courteous in their remarks,
and you can almost hear a pin drop, at times,
when a senator is speaking; whereas, there is so
much confusion in the House that one might
almost say that a thunderbolt falling through the
roof would hardly cause an interruption in the
proceedings. Of course, one of the reasons for the
greater noise in the House is the much larger
number of members as compared with the number
of senators; and besides that, the senators, being
generally older men, have more natural gravity of
Now, the time of these senators is presumed to
be very valuable; and as their thoughts ought not
to be disturbed when they are engaged in making
laws, only a certain number of persons are allowed
to go upon the floor of the Senate when the sena-
tors are at work; and the other people, who wish
to hear them talk or to look at them, must sit in
the vast galleries which extend entirely around
the room. The entrances leading into the room,
which is called the senate chamber, are guarded
by door-keepers, and only the. certain select per-
sons I have spoken.of are permitted to pass. The
senators naturally require a great many errands
and services to be done for them; and, on this
account, there are appointed fourteen boys,
from twelve to sixteen years of age, who are
termed "pages"-seven for the Democratic
side, and seven for the Republican side. A
Democrat is a man who thinks the country
ought to be governed in a particular way, and a
Republican is one who thinks the Democrats are
always wrong, and therefore believes in govern-
ing the country in. some other manner than the
Democrats wish. That, in short, is what the dis-
tinction amounts to. The Democrats are called a
"party," and they always talk and vote the same


way on any question of a political character -
that is, any question which affects their power
as a party or any of the principles of govern-
ment in which they believe. The Republicans are
also a party, and they talk and vote on these
political questions just the opposite way from that
in which the Democrats talk and vote.. For this
reason, the Democrats and Republicans in Con-
gress are almost constantly quarreling when they
are in session, although when they are not in ses-
sion they associate and talk and joke with one
another as if they all belonged to the same party.
The senators sit at nice little rosewood desks,
arranged in a semicircle and facing a pile of steps
and tables where the clerks sit, and where, higher
still, away up on top, sits the Vice-President of
the United States (or whoever may act in his
stead when he is absent), who is termed the
"presiding officer" or "President of the Sen-
ate, and it is his duty to keep the senators in

pointed, seven of the pages were to wait upon one
half of the senators, while the other seven were
to serve the other half. They were expected to
sit on the lower steps around the big pile occu-
pied by the Vice-President and clerks. Whenever
a senator wanted an errand done he would clap
his hands or beckon with his finger, and it was
the duty of one of the pages on that side of the
chamber to go to him and find out what he
wished. After having performed the errand or
attended to the wants of the senator, the page
would return to his seat and wait until some other
senator called. As a matter of fact, though, the
pages would generally be flying about in all
directions regardless of these rules-boys from
the Democratic side would be running messages
for the Republican side, and, as is said in Latin,
vice versa. Sometimes the senators could not
think of anything to send the pages for, and
we would have an easy time; and, instead of


order, just like a big school-master, and not let
more than one of them talk at once. The senators
on the right of the Vice-President (that is, toward
the south-west) are mostly Democrats; those on
the other side (toward the south-east) are princi-
pally Republicans; and when I was there they had
one or two independents,-men who talk and
vote sometimes with the Democrats and some-
times with the Republicans, just as they wish,-
and they sat wherever they could get good seats.
As I say, speaking of the time when I was ap-

sitting, as we ought, up in an erect and digni-
fied position, we would kneel down upon the soft
carpet and play marbles. I have often gone up
on the Republican side to where the Vice-Presi-
dent sat, as on a throne, and played marbles with
a page on the Democratic side, almost under the
Vice-President's chair. It would make some of
the senators angry to see us do this, especially
Senator Anthony, who of late years has been called
the "Father of the Senate"-because he served
continuously formore years than any other senator,


his time of service dating back to I859.* But most
of the senators believed in letting us do whatever
we pleased, so long as we kept still, while the young
ladies in the gallery usually paid more attention
to what we did than to what the law-makers were
doing. I think it was this that used to annoy Sen-
ator Anthony. But I am running ahead of my

early as nine o'clock, and in about two hours the
galleries were crowded and would hold no more.
The ladies sat in the part of the gallery reserved
for them on the Republican side of the room, and
looked charming in their beautiful hats and gar-
ments of every color. Over on the opposite, or
Democratic, side sat the men who were unaccom-


story. I wished you to understand who a page is, panied by ladies. Then, directly over the Vice-Pres-
and what his duties are. ident's chair, were the reporters for the newspapers
Of course, it was quite an honor to be appointed -those industrious men who apparently never
a page to such a distinguished body as the Senate sleep, but who seem to be everywhere at once, and
of the United States, and as I was accredited to are always on hand whenever there is a fight or
the State of New York, I considered that I, as anything else of interest going on, ready to find out
well as the two senators from that State, had all about it (and more, too) and to telegraph it off,
the honor of the State to protect. I had heard so thousands of miles, to be printed in some great
much about the awful solemnity and power of paper, the editor of which then preaches a sort of
the Senate, that I was at first afraid to touch any sermon about it, called an "editorial." Thus the
of these great law-makers, for fear I should be people of the country are kept informed of what
paralyzed or sent to jail. is happening throughout the,world, and if it were
The first day I went to the Senate was the second :not for these reporters, a great many of our
of December, 1872. People who wished to'see public men never would be heard of outside the
the great body called to order began to arrive as towns in which they live. But, as I was about to
*Since the writing of these pages this illustrious statesman has passed away. The esteem entertained for him by the people, and.
manifested at the funeral, was well deserved.



say, the reporters' gallery was filled with corre-
spondents representing all classes of journals, from
the powerful, thundering "organs" of New York,
to the weekly publication of some little hamlet in
the West.
At a few minutes before twelve o'clock, Cap-
tain Bassett, the venerable gentleman who has
charge of the comfort of the senators, told me to
go to the Vice-President's desk and put the gavel
upon a certain spot on the table. The gavel is a
small mallet of ivory with which the presiding offi-
cer of the Senate thumps upon his desk to com-
mand silence or attention, precisely as a school-
teacher taps his bell or raps with the ruler against
his table. In the House of Representatives, where
the members do not behave as well as in the
Senate, they have a wooden gavel with a long
handle to it, like a hammer, that will make more
noise, and sometimes it reminded me of a black-
smith at his anvil to see the presiding officer of
the House (who is called The Speaker) pounding
away for dear life, trying to make the Representa-
tives be quiet. In fact, the Speaker's gavel is
known in the official parlance of that body as the
I placed the gavel near the edge of the desk,-
in order that it could be reached conveniently by
the Vice-President without destroying the impres-
siveness desired,-and hardly had I done so when,
exactly at twelve o'clock, in walked two men
through the door near me. They were Schuyler
Colfax, the Vice-President of the United States,
and Dr. Newman, the chaplain of the Senate.
T he- \ ice-President. advanced to the side of his
desk, took up the gavel, and gave one loud rap.
At rn.ce the buzzing in the galleries and on the floor
ceased; and, in perfect silence, Dr. Newman as-
cended the steps to the Vice-President's chair, and
standing up, as he would in a pulpit, delivered a.
short prayer. I do not remember all that he said,
but he offered thanks to God for his blessings
upon the nation since the adjournment of Con-
gress during the preceding summer, and prayed
that the senators might be blessed with wisdom
and goodness, and guided of Heaven in their delib-
erations throughout the session then begun.
.The prayer was hardly finished when nearly all
the senators began to clap their hands in every
part of the chamber, making quite a racket. They
had a habit of doing that immediately after the
opening exercises, and, on one occasion, caused an
old man.in the gallery to exclaim, "Wall, I '11 be
hanged ef I saw anything pertikerlerly fineabout
that prayer! But they were not applauding the
prayer- they were merely calling for pages !
When the clapping commenced, the other pages
started to run zigzag and in every direction, and at

first I became confused and did not know what to
do. At last I saw one senator look at me and clap,
and I walked toward him, but another page ran
ahead of me. I was about the only new page, and
more timid and modest than the other boys. They
wished to show off," and they ran as fast as they
could every time; and as I was a little fellow,
with short legs, of course 'they distanced me. I
think I tried about a dozen times to answer calls,
but was beaten by the other pages. The fact
was, I was not only more modest, but more delib-
erate and deferential in my movements.
I think several of the senators must have ob-
served my embarrassment, for after a while Sen-
ator Conkling beckoned me with the forefinger of
his right hand,-that was the way he always called
a page,-and I began to walk at a quick but re-
spectful gait. The other pages, however, were all
anxious to get the message, for it would cause
people in the galleries to look at them, as Senator
Conkling was one of the most conspicuous men in
the Senate, and people watched everything he
did, He was then standing behind his desk
holding a letter, and a number of pages rushed and
put up their hands and grabbed at the letter, and
almost fought forit. The Senatormade a gesture
for them to go away, and when I came up he
reached over their heads and gave the letter to me,
with instructions as to what I should do with it.
I felt that the people in the galleries saw it all,-
and so they did, and every one on the floor saw it
also,-and I was scarcely able to walk straight,
so flurried was I, knowing that so many eyes were
upon me. The,.other boys not only felt flurried,
but looked sheepish, and did not understand the
Senator's conduct. Neither did I, for that matter,
but I thought and still think it was purely out of
sympathy for me.
As Dr. Newman came down from the.Vice-
President's table, Vice-President Colfax mounted
the steps and, in a very solemn manner, said:
"The Senate will come to order!" and took
his seat in the chair.
Then the secretary of the Senate called the roll
of senators to see how many were present, after
which Senator Conkling arose and offered a reso-
lution, the object of which was to have the Vice-
President appoint two senators to act as a com-
mittee to join a similar committee of the House
of Representatives, and to call upon the President
of the United States and notify him that Congress
was in session, and ready to hear anything he
might have to say.
Senator Anthony then submitted a resolution
that the secretary of the Senate inform the House of
Representatives that a quorum of the Senate had
assembled (that is, a sufficient number of senators


to transact business, which must be a majority of
the entire Senate), and that it was ready to proceed
to business; and also another resolution, "That
the hour of daily meeting of the Senate be twelve
o'clock, noon, until otherwise ordered." Both
these resolutions offered by Senator Anthony were
adopted by the Senate, and, after brief proceed-
ings about other matters,
the resolution presented
by Senator Conkling was
also agreed to, and Sen-
ator Conkling and Sen-
ator Thurman were ap-
pointed as a committee,
Senator Conkling being
the chairman, or head of
the committee. At this
point, as the Senate had
nothing else to do, a
recess was taken for one
hour. Instantly the peo-
ple in the gallery began
to buzz again, and the
senators to talk among
themselves and tell jokes
and laugh, and a certain
senator, who sat far over
on the Democratic side,
even amused himself by
writing letters and soar-
ing them awayup into the
air, and even against the *
ceiling of the room, and
watching the pages at-
tempt to catch them as
they sailed down toward
the floor. I think he could
sail a letter better than
any other senator. Of
course, this was no great
achievement to boast about, but some of the
senators. sat. through a whole session so quietly
that they seemed never to do anything except
to go to the Senate every day and sit still and
vote. And I remember once a senator came
into the chamber just as his name was reached by
the clerk who was calling the roll on a vote. He
looked around, and did not know what was going
on or what he should do, and I pitied him and
called out from behind him, Vote No '" And
he did! Of course he thought it was some respon-
sible senator speaking to him. But I had been in
the Senate several days before I had enough cour-
age to pretend to advise a senator.
Upon the Vice-President's calling the Senate to
order after the recess, the clerk of the House of
Representatives was.announced, and he stated that

the House had assembled and was ready to pro-
ceed to business. These notifications from' each
Congressional body to the other, and from both
to the President, are acts of courtesy that are
always observed at the beginning and close of
every session of Congress.
After the lapse of a few minutes Senators Conk-

A., 11

II I 1'
,.II~I lii


ling and Thurman returned from the White House,
whither they had gone to see the President, and
said that the committee appointed by the Senate
had discharged its duty, and that the President had
stated that he would communicate with the Senate
at once in writing. In olden times, during the
early. days of our government, it was usual for
the President to come to the Senate chamber in
person, and, in the presence of the senators and
members of the House, deliver whatever address
he might desire to make. But this custom was
abandoned when President Jefferson went into
office, and communications from the President
are now always put in writing and delivered by a
After the report of the committee, there was a
pause in the proceedings, during which the people



resumed their conversations and whisperings.
Very soon a gentleman entered the room through
the door directly facing the Vice-President, carry-
ing under his arm a package in a large white envel-
ope fastened with a large red seal. As he entered
every one became quiet again. Captain Bassett
walked up the aisle in front of the Vice-President,
and, when he reached the door, shook hands
with the other gentleman, who proved to be Mr.
Babcock, the private secretary to President Grant;
and then this is what was said:
Captain Bassett: "A message from the Presi-
dent of the United States."
Mr. Babcock (bowing): "Mr. President."
The Vice-President (bowing): "Mr. Secretary."
Mr. Babcock: I am directed by the President
of the United States to deliver to the Senate a
message in writing."
Thereupon, the President's secretary and the
Vice-President exchanged bows again, and Mr.
Babcock, giving the package to Captain Bassett,
left the Senate and went to the House of Repre-
sentatives to go through the same ceremony there.
Captain Bassett took the envelope to the Vice-
President, who opened it, and said that he would
lay before the Senate a message from the Presi-
(To be co

dent of the United States. Then the secretary
of the Senate began to read the message which
the President had sent. It was a lengthy address,
and the reading of it occupied an hour. It told
how the country had prospered since the last session
of Congress, and what laws ought to be enacted in
order to make it more prosperous in the future.
When it had been read through, Senator Anthony
moved that it be laid upon the table and be
printed, which was agreed to. To "lay upon
the table is what is known as a parliamentary
expression," and signifies that the Senate is not
ready to consider or take action upon the mes-
sage, bill, or whatever it may be, just then.
By this time we all were tired out, after keeping
still and listening to the reading for so long, and
shortly after Senator Edmunds arose and said:
"I move that the Senate do now adjourn."
Then everybody else began to move, and there
was such a hubbub that all I could hear distinctly
was the Vice-President saying:
The motion is carried, and the Senate stands
adjourned until to-morrow at twelve o'clock."
Then he gave another loud rap with his gavel,
and the proceedings of the Senate for the first day
of the session came to an end.

(@Nr : wO :' HREE


i 17

"One,Two,ThVe, et e see

who takes coffee 8& who
One.Two,Three, Oh,I see,
.you both take

And you -take lea.

takes tea?

coffee -



IT was n't until be had turned sixty-three
That a longing came o'er him to follow the sea;
But his dear little wife gave a shake of her
" I never could let you," she tenderly said.

" You were only in fun, I am sure, when you
It would n't be safe, for you can't swim a stroke.
If you feel you must sail, why not try the
canal ?"
And he said, in a weak little whisper, I shall!"

So he put, with much practice, a roll in his walk,
And introduced nautical terms in his talk;
While the neat little suit that she made him
to wear
Had anchors, to give him a sailor-like air.

On a day that was marked by a fair wind and
His neighbors assembled to bid him good-bye;
And he sat in his boat while his little wife placed
A rope, with commendable care, round his waist.

I '11 hold, on the tow-path, one end in my hand,
And, if you should sink, I will pull you to land.
I think it 's much safer," she uttered; "don't
And he said, in his weak little whisper, "I do !"

Then he hoisted his sail with a feeling of pride,
And gayly sped off, while she kept at his side;
So you 'd better look out, for who knows but,
some day,
These queer little folk will be coming your







THERE are few places where strips of iron or
other metal are not used to hoop barrels or bind
boxes; and strips of brass or zinc, for the same
purpose, are to be had of any dealer in sheet-
metal. These seem at first sight to be little
adapted to decorative art purposes; yet, precisely
the same material was largely employed, and with
very good effect, in the days of old-the times of
gold-to ornament not only doors, but all kinds
of furniture.
If we take a common oaken box, and place upon
it strips and pieces of iron or brass hoop, cut to
proper lengths, we have, of course, an iron or
brass-banded chest. The strips must be fastened
with large-headed iron nails, such as were used at

I o a

-o 0


one time freely by trunk-makers, and which may
still be found. But any smith will make them to
order, with either round or square heads.
The ends of the hoops may be easily filed
into shapes whichwill add greatly to the orna-
mental effect of the work. Thus, false hinges,
in the shape of a cross, look very well with
either rounded or pointed tips. A little study
of the examples here given will readily sug-
gest other forms to a'person with any inge-
nuity. The file to be used for shaping these
ends should be a very large one, and it
will be advisable to have the iron screwed in
a vise. There are several shapes which may
be given to these ends, such, for instance, as the
semicircle, the ball, the point, the heart-point,
VOL. XII.--5.

and the notch. By repeating them in connection,
very good effects may be obtained.
There are, of course, many other ends or points
which will
occur to 0
the artist; O O
but of all,
the semi- 0 0 0 0
circle, the
point, and 0 0
the heart-
point, or
the ogive,
will prove >
to be the

easiest to
make. The
will be /
seen when
the end of
a strip is
made into
a cross
with another.
plest box or
ago it was a
law, none the
less impera-
that noth-
ing was /j


By tasteful arrangement the sim-
chest may be given a handsome
A few years


worthy of very much admiration unless it was
expensive and highly finished. The upholsterer


judged for everybody, and his taste served for
the world. Consequently, the upholsterer, in
his own interests, invariably declared that noth-
ing cheap could be beautiful. Now that people
are beginning to study decoration for themselves,
and to have opinions of their own as to how their
houses should be decorated, and are finding out
how, in other countries, people
have contrived to make

o -

0 0

-- ? o q


home beautiful without much money, the more
ignorant upholsterer is losing his influence. He
is no longer an oracle of taste. On the contrary,
he stands directly in opposition to true knowledge
and honest art, which proposes to teach people
that they may still have beautifully decorated
rooms though they may be altogether too
poor to buy of the upholsterer.
It was long since discovered that a hinge
was not only useful as a means of holding a
lid and enabling it to be lifted up and down,
but that it strengthened it, prevented it from
cracking, and might be so expanded as to
materially aid in preventing a chest or coffer
from being broken into. But as this latter
purpose could be effected by a false hinge,
false hinges came to be extensively made.
The illustrations on page 65 show how
they can be constructed from pieces of hoop-
iron and similar strips of other metals.
These hinges need not be confined to chests
or boxes. It is common enough to see in country
cottages doors of plain plank or boards, made with-
out panels ; and it is needless to say that, though
the easiest to make and the cheapest and strongest
of all doors, they are invariably considered ugly.
Yet one of these portals can be so hinged and
barred with hoop-iron, and so studded with nails as

to look far better than the average machinery-
made, saw-mill-paneled affair, which any boy of ten
years could kick to pieces in ten minutes with a
pair of stout boots.
Not less effective are bands of brass. These are
made of every width, from half an inch to four or
six inches, and sheets of brass may be had from
six inches in width to any breadth whatever. Brass
hoop has the great advantage that, when made up
artistically, it may be carried out with the aid of
nails with fancy heads of many beautiful forms,
such as fleurs-de-lis, rosettes in great variety,
eagles, horses' heads, and flowers. One has but
to send to any dealer in hardware to obtain a cata-
logue containing representations of these nails.
Many of them are used by harness-makers and
upholsterers. Some are silver-plated or made of
German silver.
It may be observed that, apart from the iron or
brass bands, these nails may of themselves be
extensively used in decorating chests, etc. It is
well known in repouss6 or sheet-brass work that
a very important point consists of introducing at
regular intervals bosses, or round studs, of such a
nature that they shall attract the eye by reflecting
light. Thus, in the days when every room had
its salvers and plates of hammered brass, favorite
subjects were oranges, grapes, and other round
fruits, whose hemispherical and rounded surface
gave a brilliant reflect of light. Accordingly, a very
favorite subject for a brass platter was the spies
returning from Canaan, bearing between them an
immense bunch of grapes. During three hundred
years there were as many salvers made with this
subject as all others combined. In fact, the em-

,o 0 o o0 0 o o

I 9o- .-- ..b ;"* I

o 0 o0 0 o 0 ..
o o oo o o

o oo o 0. o0

o o a o o o a o



ployment of the boss, or knob, or circle, in art
is as old as art itself; it was common among the
earliest races, and an article which I have read de-
clares that the white dots in a blue ground which
form the undying "polka-dot pattern" in cravats
is a survival of the heads of the rivets in ancient
armor. It is as curious as instructive to observe




how, for instance in Romanesque dress, very good
effects were produced by simple circlets, sur-
rounded at times by dots. These are seen, too, not
only on old Anglo-Saxon and Gaulish dresses, but
on all objects where it was desirable to pro-
duce the most orna- mental effect in the
easiest manner. Oooao Nails can be had
at the brass fur- O O nisher's in great
variety and of ..6 every pattern,
from one or two ]oo inches in diam-
eter down to ~ it the tiniest
tacks. A4/eb If the artist

should experi-
ence, as I have,
greatdif- Q o c faculty in
finding g& iron nails
with large heads, ready
made, he must DESIGN formed entirely of make for him-
self a pattern brass-headed nails or in wax or wood
tacks of different sizes.
and have re- Suitable fo. a hanging- course to some
ingenious black- box or for a chair-back, smith who can
forge them for him by hand,-thqt is. if he
wants real nails that will hold. The i -
ornamental brass nails, of which I --
have spoken, have gen- -
erally only a thin ---- -
wire shank, and ---- --


are only meant to be looked at, not subjected to
any severe test. They can be plated to order
with nickel, and then match well with polished
brass or iron.
Iron and brass hoop can be applied to doors, to
boxes, panels, chests, and many plane or flat sur-
faces in furniture, with admirable effect. Narrow
brass or German silver strips are very well
suited to the covers of books, albums, and port-
folios. It is quite certain that, in the whole range
of the minor, or decorative, arts, there is not one
in which so much elegance and utility can be
combined with so little expense, as in ornamenting,
let us say for example, a plain oak chest with
iron or brass bands and large-headed nails.
Common,.small brass nails, such as were much
used for trunks fifty years ago, are still popular
among our Western Indians, who ornament whip-
handles with them. These and larger round
heads may be set together so as to form bunches
of grapes. With the aid of carving and sheet-
brass leaves, very striking effects may be obtained.
It is easy to make the holes in hoop-metal,
through which the nails are driven. An excellent
drill for the purpose is sold for fifty cents by most
dealers in tools, or will be obtained by them to
order. All dealers in brass or sheet-metals supply
hoop of any width.
There are few boys, who are clever or ingenious
enough to do any work at all, who can not orna-
ment boxes in the manner here described, with
hoop-metal and large nails. It may be observed
that, when the work is thoroughly well done, the
hoop should be sunk in the wood, either by ham-
mering it well in, or by cutting grooves with a chisel.
As a distinct art or
o o .?3 branch of work, the
1 "-:- .. '" application of hoop-
metal and nails to cas-
: kets, etc., was first
'" practiced in the Public
' Industrial Art School
S*""*'/) of Philadelphia.



IN pursuance of the announcement made last month, ST. NICHOLAS now invites all girls not younger than
thirteen, nor older than seventeen years of age, to compete for the following prizes, amounting in all to One
Hundred Dollars:

For the best story for girls, under the conditions named below.........A prize of Forty Doll'.rs.
For the story ranking second in merit, under the conditions named below..A prize of Twenty Dollars.
For the story ranking third ..A prize of Fifteen Dollars.
For the story ranking fourth .A prize of Ten Dollars.
For the stories ranking fifth, sixth, and seventh ..A prize of Five Dollars, each.


No story written by any one younger than thirteen or older than seventeen can enter into the competition.
The story must be not less than 2000 nor more than 3oco words in length.
At the head of each MS., just above its title, must be written the words "Story for Prize Competition."
Initials only, nm-t be signed to the MS. But the name and address of the writer, together with the title of
the story, and postage and directions for the return of the MS. (in case it does not win a prize), must be sent in a
sealed envelope with the MS.
In justice to all competitors, the sealed envelope must also contain a certificate signed by parent, teacher, or
some adult friend, that the story is the original composition of the sender, and that her age is within the prescribed
Let the sealed envelopes contain only the inclosures here requested. Letters concerning the stories can not
be answered.
The sealed envelopes will not be opened until all the manuscripts have been tead, and the prize stories selected.
No MS. will be returned that is unaccompanied by the requisite amount of postage-stamps inclosed in the
sealed envelope.
Translations will not be considered. The stories must not be Burlesque, Fairy, Sensational, exclusively
Religious, nor Love Stories: but in literary quality and moral influence they must be unobjectionable. The
purpose of the competition is to obtain a good, wholesome, and interesting story for girls written by a girl.
Stories may be sent in until December 15, 1884. No story received after that date can enter into the
The best story-and possibly one or more of the other prize stories-will be printed in ST. NICHOLAS.
If the Awarding Committee agree unanimously that no one of the stories sent in is, even by a generous con-
struction, worthy to receive the first prize ($40), that prize will not be awarded. But in that case, the remaining
prizes will be assigned, relatively, to the best six stories received, beginning with the prize of twenty dollars.
Stories may be sent either by mail or express. Address all MSS. for this competition, to The Prize Story
Committee, care of The Century Co., 33 East 17th St., New York.


THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION is now well known have appeared in:the closing pages of this maga-
to the readers of ST. NICHOLAS, as a national, zine. The files of the magazine will thus be
and, indeed, international, union of local societies found to contain a complete history of its work.
of young and old folk, for the purpose of studying The first general convention of the Agassiz Asso-
natural objects by personal observation. ciation was held at Philadelphia, on the 2d, 3d,
The first important public mention of the A. A. and 4th of September, 1884, by invitation of the
will be found in the number of ST. NICHOLAS, Philadelphia Assembly, which is a society formed
for November, 1880; and, since then, regular by the union of most of the chapters of the A. A.
monthly reports of the progress of the Association in or near Philadelphia.*
*The proceedings of the convention are printed in full, and may be had at cost price, on application to Mr. Robt. T. Taylor,
4701 Leiper street, Philadelphia, Pa.


In the evening of Sept. 2d, an informal reception
was held, during which the president of the A. A.
and the officers of the Assembly had the pleasure
of meeting about three hundred delegates from
widely scattered chapters, States as far apart as
Iowa and Maine being represented. The next
morning, by special invitation, the convention vis-
ited the Philadelphia Academy of Sciences, and
spent several hours in examining the treasures of
the wonderful collection.
In the afternoon, the first regular session was
opened by prayer, at 2 o'clock, in the hall of the
Franklin Institute. John Shallcross, Esq., Presi-
dent of the Assembly, gave a cordial address of
welcome, to which President Harlan H. Ballard
responded for the Agassiz Association. Then fol-
lowed a series of excellent papers and discussions
by various delegates. The exercises included the
histories of several chapters; a stirring debate,
"Eyes versus Books; papers on "The A. A. in
the Family" and "The A. A. in the Public
School; and essays on Methods of Work."
In the evening, the Rev. Henry C. McCook
delivered a lecture on "Ants and Their Architect-
ure," which was highly entertaining, instructive,
and suggestive of methods of observation.
On Thursday morning, the convention visited
the ZoSlogical Gardens, and were courteously
received by Superintendent Brown, who guided
them through the different buildings, where wild
animals are kept in a condition of remarkable
The hard-wood floors of their cages shone like
the floor of a dancing-hall. We were quite inter-
ested in an attempt that was being made to secure
a photograph of a refractory old bison. Owing to
his restlessness and ill-nature, the attempt was not
successful, but the delegates grouped themselves
in front of the lion and tiger house, and a picture
of them was taken, which was perhaps quite as
In the afternoon came the second regular ses-
sion at the Franklin Institute. A very important
feature of the day was an address by Prof. James
'McAllister, superintendent of the public schools
of Philadelphia. He spoke in the warmest terms
of the excellent work and admirable methods of the
Agassiz Association, and expressed the hope that
a chapter might ultimately be formed in connec-
tion with every school in the United States; or,
at least, in default of that, that the methods of the
A. A. should be adopted in every school, so that
young people should learn to use their own eyes

instead of blindly following the statements of their
books. Next, special topics in the several branches
of natural history were considered. Papers were
read on "The Bluebird;" "The Fishes of
Texas; "Botany; "Insect Transformation;"
and "A Cruise Around Salt Lake."
Prof. Wm. R. Dudley, of Cornell University,
gave a most helpful talk on "Preparing Plants for
the Herbarium; and, in passing, it must be said
that no one thing gives the members greater en-
couragement than the aid so kindly extended to
them by many eminent men of science. Of those
who have helped the Association in years past, Prof.
Dudley, Prof. G. Howard Parker, of Cambridge,
and Prof. C. H. Fernald, of the Maine State
College, were present at the sessions of the
The president of the A. A. closed the exercises
by an address on "Methods of Work," and the
"Future of the Association." The applause that
greeted his reference to our most powerful patron
and most faithful friend, the good ST. NICHOLAS,"
showed what a warm place the magazine holds in
the hearts of all its members. After the address,
Mr. Shallcross, in behalf of the assembly, presented
to the president a beautiful gold-headed cane.
In the evening the delegates, by invitation, went
in a body to the Electrical Exhibition. They were
received in the lecture-room by Prof. Houston,
who explained, in a short lecture, some of the
more important pieces of electrical mechanism
they were to see; and then they dispersed through-
out the building, and spent a delightful evening
among the wonders of the place.
The most marked feature of this convention
was the feeling of friendly fellowship continually
manifested. Not only was no word spoken that
could cause regret, but everything was said and
done that could minister to the happiness of each
and all. There was no machinery of business
to distract attention from the consideration of the
various branches of natural science; and, thanks
to the wise simplicity of the Constitution of the
A. A., not a vote was called for, except a rising
vote of thanks to the generous hosts and to the
gentlemen who kindly addressed the convention.
The result of the first meeting has been a firm
cementing of friendship, a great increase of en-
thusiasm, and a conviction that the Agassiz Asso-
ciation is certain to grow far more rapidly in the
future than it has ever grown before. You are now
invited to turn to the regular report of the A. A.,
on page 78 of this number.
H. H. B.



9 60, ha-

AllwcL 1yto eCT
-)t -Io
Aw a4 soc (F-r;'



^ ^_Jeie g log"
o op I no
Ojer theJ goL ofybe, syuch a
Charlie exclai)msiNow heve'r a g."

Anl dlear lUtle Sele gap'oL'oLb.







SAGITTARIUS bends his bow, He pursues the chase so far
That the Sun may hunting go. That our skies quite gloomy are.

Day Day Moon's Moon's Sun on
of of Age. Place. Noon Holidays and Incidents.
Month. Week. Mark.
1 Sat. 14 Pisces 11.44 Benvenuto Cellini, b. 1500.
2 FULL Aries 11.4 21st Sunday after Trinity. Rosy are the apples that are crowding in the bin;
3 Mon. 16 11.44 Mendelssohn, died 1847. Golden is the grain, with the sunlight gathered in;
4 Tues. 17 Taurus 11.44 (very near Aldebaran. Ripe and rich the clusters that have swung in juicy prime;
B Wed. 18 11.44 near Saturn. But the rainfall of the nuts is the children's harvest-time.
6 Thur. 19 Gemini 11.44 Gust's Adolphus, d. 1632.
7 Fri. 20 11.44 ebet. Procyon & Twins. EVENING SKIES FOR YOUNG ASTRONOMERS.
8 Sat. 21 Cancer 11.44 John Milton, died 1674. (See Introduction, page 255, ST. NICHOLAS for January.)*
9 22 Leo 11.44 22d Sunday after Trinity.
10 Mon. 23 Sextant 11.44 C near Regulus & Jupiter. NOVEMBER I5th, 8.30 P. M.
11 Tues. 24 Leo 11.44 King Canute, died 1035. SATURN is now very conspicuous in the east, and not far from
him are our old acquaintances of last winter, Aldebaran and
12 Wed. 25 Virgo 11.44 the Pleiades, the stars of Taurus, The Bull. Orion, too, is
13 Thur. 26 11.45 near Venus. rising in the east. Altair is going down in the west, Lyra in
14 Fri. 27 11.45 near Spica. the north-west. The Dipper of The Great Bear is now atits
lowest point immediately under the North Star. Cassiofeia,
15 Sat. 28 11.4 Gluck, died 1787. The Lady in her Chair, is nearly overhead in the Milky Way.
16 5 29 11.45 23d Sunday after Trinity. The Square of Pegasus is now upright, Markab and Scheat
17 Mon. NEW 11.45 Acc'n of Q. Eliz'th, 1558. have passed an hour to the west, and now the other two stars
of the square are exactly over our south mark. The upper
18 Tues. 1 11.46 Sir D. Wilkie, b. 1785. one is Alpherat of the constellation Andromeda, the lower
19 Wed. 2 11.46 C near Mars. one is Algenib of the constellation Pegasus.
20 Thur. Sagitt. 11.46 Thos. Chatterton, b. 1752. We have not traced the path of the sun since September.
The two stars of Capricornus are still visible in the south-west;
21 Fri. 4 11.46 Venus near Spica. the sun passes from the point mentioned near them, which he
22 Sat. 5 11.47 Lord Clive, died 1774. occupies the 2oth of January, to a point in a line with
23 5 6 Capri. 11.47 24th Sunday after Trinity. Alpherat and Algenib, and just as far below Algenib as that
Star is distant from Alpherat. This point is on the equinoctial
24 Mon. 7 11.47 Peace dec'd bet. G. Brit. line, and the sun reaches it on the 21st of March.
25 Tues. 8 Aqua. 11.47 [and America, 1814. The Milky Way makes a complete arch from east to west.
26 Wed. 9 11.48 Marshal Soult, died 180. Notice that near the star Arided in Cygnus, The Swan, the
Milky Way divides into two branches, descending to the west.
27 Thur. 10 Pisces 11.48 Thanksgiving Day. Altair is on the very edge of the south branch. Facing the
28 Fri. 11 11.48 Wash'n Irving, d. 1859. west and looking upward at Cygnus, we now see that there
29 Sat. 12 Aries 11.49 Horace Greeley, d. 1872. are two other stars below Arided, that with the other stars of
80 a 13 11.49 Advent Sunday,. the constellation form a large upright cross.
10 1 11 11.49 Advent Sttnday.


LOOK at me," said the Peacock, spreading his tail and strutting grandly about, am I not handsome ? "
"Yes," replied the Turkey, "in your own eyes; but I put up a perpetual thanksgiving that I was not
hatched so vain as you."
"I should think thanksgiving was rather a tender subject for you," rejoined the Peacock, pluming
Not at all," said the Farmer, who had been listening to this interchange of civilities; "he is a tender
subject for Thanksgiving And so saying he caught up the Turkey, and carried him off to market.
"Well, well! said the Peacock, "I'm glad I'm too handsome to eat, and that fine feathers don't
always make fine birds according to the cook."

The names of planets are printed in capitals,- those of constellations in italics.


Ii iFf..

-- -' -
, _I . ". . .- ,

^ ; .: -sL
R ;:



WHERE are my bow and arrows, and my buskins, Mother ? cried November, slipping in on a little bit
of thin ice. "I want to go a-hunting. I can't do very much for you in your garden, and I must look after
the deer and the rabbit."
"Oh, but my lad cried Dame Nature, "there are late pears and apples awaiting you, and the
squashes and pumpkins must be gathered, or we shall not be ready for Thanksgiving. You must begin to
nip the vines and leaves and late flowers, for there is much clearing up to be done. You are quite enough
of an executioner, November, without going after game."
Well, well! said November, rather cross and surly, "if I must, I must; but if I could only have my
own way a little, I would be a great deal more agreeable. How can you expect me to be very bright and
sunny when I have to do so much ungracious work ?"



WHAT will become of the trees, Mamma?
The leaves are falling, one by one.
Colder it blows;
Soon come the snows.
What will become of the trees, Mamma,
The bare, brown trees, when all is done?

Will not the trees be cold, Mamma,
When all the leaves are blown away?
When nights are long,
And winds are strong,
Will not the trees be cold, Mamma,
On many a cold and wintry day?

What will become of the leaves, Mamma?
Away before the wind they fled;
After their play,
Hurried away.
What will become of the leaves, Mamma ?
I can not think that they are dead.

Poor little leaves It is sad, Mamma.
If I run after them, will they mind ?
Now for a race!
Now for a chase!
I will bring you some pretty leaves, Mamma;
Some tired leaves that are left behind.

-~-----~-----~-- -



GOOD-DAY to you, one and all, my friends! It
is delightful to meet this time, in bright, bracing,
grateful November, and to shake hands, so to
speak, at the very threshold of a new volume of
Now, what shall we take up first? The letters?
Very well; the letters it shall be.
Here is one sent by a little girl across the Atlantic
to tell

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I always find creat interest in the
information you give, and especially in that which relates to natural
history; and as I think that some of your little readers will have the
same interest, I want to tell you a very wonderful incident about
birds, whiAh I hope will a-nuse them. Here, at Oedenburg, at the
back of the theater, there was an empty swallow's nest, of which a
pair of lazy sparrows took possession. They made themselves quite
at home, laid their eggs in it, and hatched out their young ones.
After a while the s.vallows came back and were not at all pleased to
see their nest occupied, but they were seen flying quietly away.
Soon they cane back, accompanied by ten or twenty other swallows,
carry ig in th-ir bills mud and building materials. These actually
be-an to work at shutting up the nest, so that the poor little guilt-
less sparrow; had to die of hunger. The sparrow-papa was killed a
short distance from his nest, and the poor little mamma was left to
watch and wail over her unhaopiness. Did you know that dear
little swallows could be so cruel in their wrath ? This is a true story,
and I have seen the nest myself. It will soon be taken to the mu-
seum at Pesth. Ever your constant reader, TILDI M. RIPP.

This letter will make a sensation among my
birds if they happen to hear of it. The swallows
will deny its accuracy, and the sparrows will indig-
nantly insist that the story is an invention; but
all the other birds will say, as I do, that it is true.
It is not the first time that swallows have acted in
this way, and 1 am very sure it is not the last time
that sparrows will get into difficulty. What we
want is a bird-college, where the feathered students
can study moral philosophy. Don't you notice
how good and fair and forgiving human beings

are? And don't they study moral philosophy?
Great allowance should be made for the poor
ignorant birds.
Then, again, there sometimes may be other
extenuating circumstances, as in the following
history of
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: While I was visiting my Eastern
cousins, this summer, we saw a great big cat running as hard as she
could from half a dozen robins. But she could not escape them,
for they flew after her, and pecked at her head as if they were deter-
mined to kill her. Finally, they seemed to think she had been pun-
ished enough, and they withdrew from the attack and settled down
on the ground in a queer jerky way, as if to say, "There, we '11
teach those cats that they must not trouble us!"
Now, this c-t had the reputation in my cousins' neighborhood of
being a great bird-killer; and undoubtedly the angry robins had seen
her trying to attack some of their nests-maybe she had even killed
their young birds.
M. E. R.


A LITTLE girl of twelve summers, whose par-
ents lately moved from Kansas to Boston, has
written the Little School-ma'am a letter, telling
of" trips along the Atlantic coast." Of course,"
she says, "you know about the wonderful spout-
ing rock at Newport, Rhode Island ?
"It usually spouts during a storm, when people
dare not go out on the rocks, and then the grand
scene is lost. But we saw it at its best, when it
was spouting higher than it had spouted for years.
We had to climb up on some massive rocks, and
there we stood and gazed.
Far out on a rocky ledge great waves were
breaking and dashing furiously about the rocks,
forming a magnificent picture. But most inter-
esting of all was the spouting rock. It has an
opening in it about three feet across, where the
water rushes through, and in coming but is thrown
many feet-into the air, making a natural fountain
of pure white foam.
Cousin Harry, who was with us, is of an invent-
ive turn of mind, with a natural liking for investi-
gation; so he walked as near the edge of the
rocks as possible. But that was not enough. Oh,
no! he must look into the opening. So he
clambered down the rocks cautiously, went up to
the very edge, took a peep, and then, in his
anxiety to 'see how it worked,' stood with his
head over the opening and-up it came! Harry
walked off into the sun to dry, feeling, perhaps,
that he had been reproved for trying to pry into
Nature's unpatented inventions.
A man who was there said that when he was a
boy the opening was much smaller and the water
spouted much higher, but that it is being grad-
ually worn away by the waves."

DANVILLE, ILL May 22, '84.
DEAR JACK: Are ants in the lsabit of caring for the remains of
their dead? A few days incc, miv brother and I saw an ant carrying
one an large as itself, which was dend It took the little 1'odly lp a
stcn ci-lit inches hligh. and about ten feet on the stone wnll, where
it disappeared witli its burden. Ever youcs gratefully',
G. .c
Who can answer G. M. B. ?





NOw, who would think that a good little New
England girl would do such a thing as try to
frighten a kindly, well-disposed Jack-in-the-Pulpit
like me I Yet here is her letter plain as day-
just as she wrote it-postmarked New Hampshire:
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I want to tell you about what was
upon our farm. No one knows what it was. It makes a noise like
singing, and my aunty thought it was a crazy man walking around.
Grandma put a bone on the window-seat, and it nibbled it some and
went away and left tracts, but they could not tell what it was.
Your friend, HELEN.

Horrible The idea of those tracts sends a chill
through me. Deacon Green has seen your letter,
and, though he is badly frightened, he says "it"
evidently is not a school-master, or it would have
left different tracts" from those.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: In a recent number of our ST.
NICHOLAS something was said about bees building in trees. You also
asked if any one else had seen anything of the kind. Have. A year

or two ago the bees swarmed on our place, and after several ineffect-
ual attempts on our part to hive them, they left the yard and settled
on a limb of a small willow-tree, about 200 yards from thehouse. They
staid there until winter, when they all froze. While on the willow-
tree they built several large sheets of comb. This they filled
with honey, and all of it was nicely capped. The tree was leaning
over a branch or brook. It was also very near the road, and the
bees became quite a curiosity.
I am, your reader,
DEAR JACK: In ST. NICHOLAS for last March you told of a large
honey-comb, seen near Santa Anna, Cal. I will tell you of one I saw
in 1876 on the Klamath river in Northern California. A Mr. Jack-
son who lived there had a large tree of bees. Near the place where
the bees were, there stood a tall cottonwood-tree, thirty feet high, I
should think. The tree rose from the bottom of a small stream, and
the road or trail came off high ground, so that as you came toward
the tree, if on horseback, you were almost on a level with the top.
Riding along there one day I glanced at the top of the tree, and
there I saw a large mass of honey with bees thick around it. It was
cone-shaped, with the apex pointing down. It was longer one way,
and I should think would have filled a half bushel. How large it
afterward became, or how long it remained there, I do not know, as
I left the locality during that fall. There were plenty of wild bees
all through the mountains, but they stored their honey in hollow
trees. I never saw or heard of any other comb being formed on the
outside of the tree. J. F. COOPER.


THE answer, consisting of one hundred and one letters, is a four-
Sline stanza, and expresses a sentiment appropriate for Thanksgiving-
~dtint-. .. _day.
My 2-6-1-3-5-22 is a meal. My 15-4-19-27-18 is a large stream.
"",. My 7-25 is an exclamation. My 23-8-17-9 is a kingdom in Farther
India. My 1o-11-21-24-20-12 is to cherish. My 16-13-14-26 is a
division of time.
My 28-47-53-51-46 is a large bird. My 31-39-30-42-45-29 is to
remain firm. My 34-35-50-32-4t is dirt. My 33-44-37-40-38-48 is a
hangman's rope. My 49-36-52-43 is to whip.
My 54-56-68-65-73 is to embellish. My 74-63-58-60-55 is a sharp
shoot from the stem of a tree or shrub. My 71-61-59-64-69 is en-
gaged for wages. My 62-67-76-57 is a kind of covering for the
head. My 77-75-72-6t-70 is an arrow.
My soo-o8-94-98-E8 is a peg. My 80-87-83-89-82-79-91-81-86-92
A" & Lare low tracts of land inundated with water. My 85-84-97-1so are
.,I A 9.! r, is small watch-pockets. My 96-90-99-95-93 is to gleam.
My angry first did lash and roar amain;
My second, all undaunted, saw the rage.
-My third, meanwhile, did bow and bow again
With courtesy this fury to assuage.
Ho," laughed my second, "'you shall quickly see
Whether my third and I ha\e fear of thee;
Roar as thou wilt, we take our destined path,
And with my whole will overcome thy wrath."
M. A. H.
S AcRoss: I. An unci ilized person. 2. A large earless seal. 3.
Falls in drops. 4. The close of the day. 5. In breakfasting.
DOWNWARD: i. In breakfasting. 2. A conjunction. 3. A color.
S4. Unadorned. 5. Living. 6. Mature. 7. Exclamations of joy or
.n triumph. 8. An article. 9. In breakfasting. "LYON HART."

i. Taunting. 2. Hatred. 3. To fall back. 4. Beseeches. 5.
THE answer to the above rebus is a couplet from "Essay on A snecies of poplar. 6. To hiss. 7. A part of the body. 8.
Poetry," by Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. Within. 9. A consonant. "ROYAL TARR."


EACH of the words described contains nine letters. When rightly
selected and placed one below the other in the order here given, the
fourth row of letters (reading downward) will spell an act of express-
ing gratitude, and the sixth row, a publication by authority. These
two lines, read in connection, name an important document which
is issued annually.
CKOSS-WORDS : Manifold. 2. Practicing arithmetic. 3.
Thumped soundly. 4. Shells which adhere to rocks and timbers.
5. A coarse texture worn as a mark of mourning. 6. An officer of
the peace. 7. Having three sorts of flowers in the same head. 8.
Having several leaflets arranged like the fingers of the hand, at the
extremity of a stem. 9. Need. io. Determinations. as. The
whooping-cough. 12. Of the same nature or disposition.
I. . 2

3 . 4

5 6

7 . 8
FROM i to 2, a rogue; from 2 to 6, foliage; from 5 to 6, utensils;
from i to 5, bordered; from 3 to 4, a titmouse; from 4 to 8, to tie;
from 7 to 8, one who tans; from 3 to 7, a disturbance; from i to 3,
a small animal; from 2 to 4, illuminated; from 6 to 8, a title; from
5 to 7, a small spot. FRED.
CONCEALED DOUBLE ACROSTIC. In each of the following sen-
tences a cross-word is concealed, the definition of which is given in
the same sentence.
I. Can Ella give me a pretty name for a pretty girl? 2. It will

teach Edwin not to row so far, if he would avoid the pain in his
wrists. 3. The psalm is solemn, if I do not err. 4. I gave Elsie a
long squirming fish.
The initials (which mean a cognomen) and the finals (meaning
smaller) may both be found in the following
In knoll, not in mound;
In lake, not in ground;
In homes, not in land;
In heads, not in hands;
You 'll find the answer rather tame,
As for it I can find no name.


THE problem is to change one given word to another given word,
by altering one letter at a time, each alteration making a new word,
the number of letters being always the same, and the letters remain-
ing always in the same order. Sometimes the metamorphoses may
be made in as many moves as there are letters in each given word,
but in other instances more moves are required.
EXAMPLE: Change LAMP to FIRE, in four moves. ANSWER,
i. Change ONE to TWO, in ten moves. 2. Change FISH to BIRD,
in five moves. 3. Change NORTH to SOUTH, in twelve moves. 4.
Change EARTH to WATER, in eleven moves. 5. Change EAST to
WEST, in three moves. 6. Change CALF to VEAL, in five moves.
7. Change PINK to BLUE, in eleven moves. 8. Change LION to
BEAR, in seven moves. F. W.


IN what poem by William Cullen Bryant do the following lines
occur ?
Soulriog rea bet swodo ni rethi stealt dolg dan scrimno,
Tey rou lufl-veadle swollwi ear ni reith sthefres nereg.
Cush a kylind muntau, os luciferlym leandig
Hitw eth storghw fo muserm, I renve tey heavy nese.


CONCEALED WORD-SQUARES. I. i. Nadir. 2. Alone. 3. Dozen. DOUBLE DIAGONAL. Real, true. Cross-words: z. RenT. 2.
4. Inert. 5. Rents. II. i. Blanc 2. Labor. 3. Abate. 4. fERn. 3. dUAl. 4. EviL.
Notes. 5. Crest. CHARADE. Clergy-man. ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS. I. i. S. 2. Sap. 3.
QUOTATION PUZZLE. Longfellow. i. SheLley. 2. GOldsmith. Salem. 4. Pew. 5. M. II. i. M. 2. Tar. 3. Maker. 4 Red.
3. BurNs. 4. Gray. 5. LongFellow. 6. PopE. 7. HoLmes. 5. R. III. i. M. 2. War. 3. Mayor. 4. Rot. 5. R. IV. x.
8. CoLeridge. 9. TennysOn. io. Wordsworth. M. 2. Bar. 3. Manor. 4. Rod. 5. R. V. i. R. 2. Tip. 3.
WORD-SQUARE. I. Craber. 2. Remote. 3. Ambons. 4. Bootee. Rider. 4. Pen. 5. R.
5. Etnean. 6. Resent. THE PRISONER'S PUZZLE.
A letter, timely writ, is a rivet to the chain of affection;
And a letter, untimely delayed, is as rust to the soldier. -.. --
EASY BEHEADINGS. Wellington. I. W-hen. 2. E-ton. 3.
L-ash. 4. L-ark. 5. I-van. 6. N-ape. 7. G-one. 8. T-our. 9. i-
O-men. xo. N-ail. i
PI. October turned my maple's leaves to gold;
The most are gone now; here and there one lingers;
Soon these will slip from out the twig's weak hold, L- L _
Like coins between a dying miser's fingers. -
T. B. Aldrich, in Maple Leaves." -
ANAGRAMS. i. Jack the Giant-killer. 2. The Sleeping Beauty.
3. Jack and the Bean-stalk. 4. Little Red Riding-hood. 5. Beauty
and the Beast. 6. Cinderella. NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
DOUBLE FINAL ACROSTICS. Talent, sports. Cross-words: r. Attempt the end, and never stand in doubt;
suiTS. 2. strAP. 3. rolLO. 4. latER. 5. stiNT. 6. goaTS. Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.

THE names of those who send solutions are printed in the second number after that in which the puzzles appear. Answers should be
addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO. 33 East Seventeenth street, New York City.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE AUGUST NUMBER were received, too late for acknowledgment in the October number, from John,
Lily, and Agnes Warburg, London, 8- Bella and Cora Wehl, Frankfort, Germany, 5-Carl and Norris, Ayr, Scotland, 2.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE SEPTEMBER NUMBER were received, before September 20, from "Cousins"-Paul Reese-
Bertha Feldwisch-Hattie B. Badeau-E. H. H., H. S., and A. W.- S. R. T.-Maggie T. Turrill-"Shumway Hen and Chickens"
-"Daisy, Pansy, and Sweet William"-Clara and Mamma-Johnny Duck-"Unknown to History "-T. R. S. and E. R. S.-Harry
W. Wheelock- Francis W. Islip- Hugh and Cis.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE SEPTEMBER NUMBER were received, before September 2o, from Maude, -Grace Zublin, x-Lillie
R. B., I Elmer 9Haynes, i S. H. Hepner, i Daisy H. R., 2 -" Lucretia" and "Minnehaha," i M. Alice Barrett, I C. L.
Weir, 3-Ellie and Susie, x-Clara L. Powers, -- G. R. and J. N., i-Albert G. Whitney, 2-Tiny Puss, Mitz, and Muff, a3-Agnes
and Emma, 6-M. F. Pemberton, Lena Smith and Nannie Rogers, -E. M. Lewis, 4-"Pepper and Maria." 13- Ge. C. Beebe,
S-C. S. and G. B., 2-"Aunt Hel1ne," i- Effie K. Talboys, 5-Frank Smyth, 4-Alex. H. Laidlaw, 7-J. Webb Parker, 6- Dollie
Palmer, 4-Helen Du Barry, 2-Ida C. Lusk, 13-Hamilton E. Field, i-Kenneth B. Emerson, 7-George Habenicht, i-Kittie
Greenwood A., 2 -Edith and Lawrence Butler, 2- Flossie L. N., I-Miles Turpin, 9-Gertrude and Harry -Charles H. Kyte, ir-
E. Muriel Grundy, 8- Louis Schuman, i- Cora Achor and Nettie Taylor, 7-" Sairy Gamp and Betsy Prig," 5 -Edith Swanwick, 9
-Elizabeth B. R. H., -Edith Valedy, 8-Miss Spiller and Eleanor and Maude Peart, 5- 'In the Glen," 8-Jennie Balch, 3-
Carrie and Bess, 4-" Papa and I," 8--Grace Zublin, I -Mary P. Stockett, 4 Lulu and Ida Newman, r0.


1884.] THE LETTER-BOX. 77


OWING to an oversight, the translation of "The Floral Letter"
which appeared in the September number of ST. NICHOLAS was
omitted from the October number. It is therefore printed here. The
correct reading of the letter is as follows:
I hope you'll be a 'daisy' boy;
You've ever been a joy to me;
Your principles don't violate,
A sterling man you then will be.
As puny boys make sickly men,
I hope you 're of a healthy stock.
Rise with the larks, perhaps you do,
But not too soon; -say four o'clock.
If good report you lack at school,
I would by no means whine and fret;
But courage take and say to Sloth:
'Be gone, you wretch! I'11 conquer yet!'
Some folks there are who lie like time,
And with a sweet peculiar ease;

That you will not be one of them
I 'd wager any amount you please!
Be sure you don't refuse your aid
To help a fellow-man's hard lot.
Sweet will your memories ever be;
And now, good-bye,-forget me not
"Your affectionate
The flowers mentioned in the letter are respectively: daisy, ver-
bena, violet, aster, cyclamen, stock, larkspur, four-o'clock, portulaca,
woodbine, begonia, lilac, thyme, sweet-pea, geranium, fuchsia,
sweet-william, and forget-me-not.

Boys and girls who like to make with their own hands some of the
Christmas gifts which they present to their friends will appreciate
Mr. Leland's article on Metallic Band and Nail Work on page 65.
They may also be glad to refer to Mr. Leland's papers on Brass-
work (ST. NICHOLAS for July, 1883), and Modern Leather-work
(ST. NICHOLAS for May, 1884).


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are spending our summer holidays
here in the Land of Burns," and often go on our tricycles to visit
the cottage where the poet was born. One sees there some of the
original furniture, also some of his own handwriting in his poems
and letters. In the visitors' book at the cottage we noticed that
many of the names were those of Americans. Near by is the monu-
ment to Burns's memory. It is placed in a beautiful garden. From the
top of the monument one has a fine view of the "Auld Brig
o'Doon," where Tam o' Shanter was supposed to have crossed
when chased by the witches. Alloway Kirk is close by. Burs's
father is buried in the church-yard.
I remain, yours truly, CARL N. STOCKWELL.

BUFFALO, 1884.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We had a great deal of fun one day repeat-
ing some of the well-known alliterations, such as "Peter Piper,"
"Five Brave Maids," etc. We came across a few new ones, among
which were She sells sea-shells" and Sweet sleek sheep sleep."
Please let your young readers know about them. I think they
will find it rather difficult to say the sentences rapidly.
Your constant reader, ELIZABETH T. SMITH.

GREENVILLE, S. C., x884.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Your article on Old Shep and the Central
Park Sheep," in the August number, is most interesting to me, as
my father has lately given me a full-blooded Collie, which I am
anxious to teach several tricks. I write to ask some of your readers
to tell me how I can train or teach my little pet. Its name is
Cleopatra, but we call it "Cleo," which we think pretty. I wish
"Cleo" to perform as many tricks as I can succeed in teaching
Trusting that my letter is not too long and to see several letters
on this subject from some of your many readers.
Your constant reader, LALLA E. C.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I hope no boy or girl will try the trick here
to be described on any very nervous person. But to those who
will promise to be good, and not scare anybody, I will tell all
about it.
Take the two half shells of an English walnut, as large as can be
held between the brow and cheek, and in the middle of each bore a
hole a little larger than the pupil of your eye. The shell is soft
enough to cut with a penknife. A gimlet would crack it.

Care should be taken to thoroughly clean the inside of the shells.
Now paint, over all, a coat of white paint. You need not be very
particular, because if it does go thin in places it will only help the
weird effect. And you may use either oil or water-colors. The oil
is most permanent and effective, but the water-color dries right off;
and, as a piece of fun is most fun when done most quickly, we sup-
pose the latter method is the better.
Around the pupil-hole paint the iris a dark dull green. Let the
size of it be somewhat larger than the natural eye. If you have no
artistic friend at hand to guide you, yourcan get the color near
enough by mixing blue with a little yellow and a little red. Do not
paint the color all round, but leave a small space of white on the
upper left-hand side. Be careful to keep this on the same side of each,
as it represents the glare of sunlight on the eye, and so should

come from the same direction. In arranging them for painting, itis
best to place them on the table in position, with the pointed ends of
the shells toward each other. And itis better to leave the light in the
white, which is already on the shell, than to paint the iris all round
and then try to put the white light on. The effect is heightened by
painting a thick black line round the outer edge of the iris.
Finally, with a bright vermilion, daub irregular blotches of color
all around the edge of the shells and a few irregular blobs in the
lower part of the iris, and you will have a pair of the most astonish-
ing eyes you can,imagine. The diagramabove-willhelpyou in color-
ing-the dark lines representing the green and thelightones the red.
To fit on the eyes, hold one in each hand, taking care that the points
are toward each other and that the lights will appear on top when
in position. Then open your eyes and raise your eyebrows as high
as you possibly can; and putting both shells up at once, set them
so that each completely covers one eye. You will find that the



edges of the shells, even when the eyes are fully distended, press
safely between the upper lid and the fleshy under-part of the brow
and in the hollow between the lower lid and the cheek; and that
there is plenty of room inside the shell even for the eyelashes to

- -.-...If a

play, and so there can be no danger of injury to the eye. Feeling
secure of this, and adjusting the shells till you feel they are in the
best position for holding, let your eyes and brows fall to their natural
position, and you will find your false eyes lightly but sufficiently
held. Adjust both at once; for if you try to put them in one at a
time, the effort to unduly expand one eye will disturb the other.
Of course, you set them privately. And then you need make no
other demonstration in going into the presence of your victims. Just
go quietly and look at them.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been a subscriber to you quite long,
and always am glad when I go to the post-office and find you in the
box. I like Miss Alcott's Spinning-wheel Stories" very much.

Two other stories, "Jack and Jill" and Tinkham Brothers' Tide-
Mill," I thought were splendid. Stonington is on Long Island
Sound, and is an old sea-port. In the summer it is quite a resort
for city people. It was attacked by the British ship Terror and
another in the war of 1812, and
.... -''----- on the ninth of August we cel-
ebrate the battle. 'the two old
eighteen-pounders which defend-
ed this place in the battle stand
uncovered out on the Common,
;- .in front of our house, and often
Syou may see strangers stop and
look at them. I have just received
-.s the August number of the splen-
S'' did magazine, and I am enjoying
reading it.
Your friend,
O. B. B.

S BROOKLYN, Sept., 1884,
two girls who have, taken you
nearly three years, and enjoy you
very much. We send our hearty
thanks to Miss Louisa Alcott for
her lovely stories, and you may
tell her for us that we are always
interested in books she writes.
We remain, your ardent admirers, JENNIE AND MARION.
P. S.- Marion is eleven years old and I am thirteen.

THE number of letters received from our young correspondents is
greater than we can make room for in our "Letter-box," but
we wish especially to thank the following boys and girls for their
pleasant letters: Leon A. Mitchell, May McLoughlin, Maud
McQuaid, A. G. K., Fanny Hope, Richard H., Evelyn D., Jean
B. G., Anna P. A., Genevieve A. Farnell, Nan, Nellie Nottingham,
Hattie A. Homer, Blanche A. Tuck, Mamie A. Cramer, Nina
Nicholas, Hallie, Josie H. Barrett, Lillie F. C., George C. Gale,
and Beatrice Hartford.



SHERE beginneth" the fifth year of the ST. NICHOLAS Agassiz
Association. It is no longer an experiment, but it is an assured success.
Our records show that over seven hundred local branches have been
formed, most of which are still flourishing, and that we have enrolled
more than eight thousand members. We will not now repeat the
history of the society, but refer the thousands of young people who
begin their acquaintance with ST. NICHOLAS with this new volume to
the reports that have regularly appeared here since November, i880,
and to a brief account of our late delightful convention, which will
be found on page 68. We wish now to renew to you all our
hearty invitation to join our Association. There are thousands who
read our reports and take a lively interest in our work who have not
yet sent in their names as active members of the A. A. It is a good
time to do this at the opening of a new year. You will find little
difficulty in finding three besides yourself, and we will recognize four
as a "Chapter." There are Father and Mother and Brother John at
once; so you need n't delay. There is no charge for the admission
ofa Chapter, although itis necessary that you have a copy of our hand-
book, giving complete history, rules, etc. This costs fifty-four cents,
and beyond this there will be no expense, nor are there any yearly
dues. If you can not form a Chapter, you can join by yourself as a
corresponding member of the original Association at Lenox, Mass.
For this there is a nominal entrance fee of fifty cents, but no further
dues. The advantages that you may expect have been detailed
often in these reports, and are briefly these:
Ist. Free communication, correspondence, and exchange with
thousands ofnaturalists, young and old, in nearly all portions of the

2d. The privilege of receiving free assistance, in whatever depart-
ment you select, from a scientist who is an authority in that depart-
3d. The occasional notice ofyour desire to exchange or correspond,
in the columns of ST. NICHOLAS.
4th. The privilege of attending any of the conventions of the
5th. The opportunity of aiding and interesting all the others by a
record of your own observations and methods of work.
There is no reason why there should not be a Chapter of the A. A.
in every town--in your town. The name of each new Chapter,
with the address of its permanent secretary, is regularly printed in
ST. NICHOLAS and in the hand-book.
Our badge is a Swiss cross, of gold or silver, chosen because
Professor Agassiz was a native of Switzerland.
It is not required that every member be a subscriber to ST.
NICHOLAS, although as this .magazine is the official organ of the
Association and contains our monthly reports, the advantage of
access to its pages is self-evident. All are welcome.
The youngest child need not hesitate to write. Our youngest
member is four years old, and our eldest is more than eighty. Every
letter is answered, provided it contains the full address of the writer
and a postal-card or stamped envelope.
Many persons wonder how we can find time to do this, and we
could not unless we felt a deep personal interest in every member of
the Association. As it is, we are compelled to answer by printed
circular oftener than we could wish; but our correspondents may be
sure that every letter that comes is read by the president and care-
fully considered. The letters printed here from month to month
may fairly be taken as models, both as to style and length.

r884.1 T.HE LETTER-BOX. 79

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
692 Saegertown, Pa. (A)....... 6.. Miss Lizzie Apple, 45 Main St.
693 Fort Union, N. Mex. (A).. 6..Jos. Drum, care Lieut. Jno.
694 Orange, Cal. (A).......... 7..Miss Julia Squires.
695 Wellington, Canada (A)...12..W. R. Garratt.
696 Manhattanville, N. Y. (A). 5..Miss Carmen Rosado, Con-
vent of the Sacred Heart.
697 Baltimore, Md. (I)........ 7..Oliver W. Cook, 63 German St.
698 Middleport, N. Y. (A)..... 6..J. W. Hickley.
699 Odin, Pa (A)............. 4..Victor L. Beebe.
700 Mt. Pleasant, Iowa (A) .... 4..Paul B. Woolson.
701 Stockton, California (A)... 4..Miss Hattie Hedges.
702 Kingston, N. Y. (A)...*.. 4..W. D. Newman.

559 Bath, N. Y.................. Percy C. Meserve.
203 Framingham, Mass. (A)... 4..F. P. Valentine.

677, Milwaukee, C., one of our latest Chapters, writes: "We are
progressing nicely, have a fine herbarium, a good collection of min-
erals, and many scientific books, which we read and discuss with the
most animated interest. Our secretary found a tarantula in a
bunch of bananas. I should like to correspond with other Chapters.
--Miss Lizzie G. Jordan, 142 3d St.
555, Olympia, Washington T'y. "Had a meeting in the Tacoma
of this city. Our cabinet was hung on the wall, and other specimens
arranged on tables. We are now trying to build a room."
[ We have no doubt you will succeed with your room; but what is
a Tacoma ?]
xo6, Lebanon, N. Y., has been exploring a cave to the depth
of 70 feet.
655, New Lyme, O. The members of this Chapter live at quite a
distance from one another, coming even from several different towns;
nevertheless, the .work "proves interesting and instructive."
[This is an example of rare earnestness.]
158, Davenport, Iowa. Miss Sarah G. Foote, Sec., writes:
" Questions are presented at every meeting for consideration during
the week by every member. We frequently have several visitors."
642, Florence, Mass.: A. T. Bliss, Sec. Progressing splendidly.
We now have 31 members. About a month ago we began to be in-
terested in insects."
508, Middlebury, Vt. Miss May A. Bolton writes: "I trust
you will hear of good work done by us. Botany is our special
branch, but we keep our eyes open for anything that is interesting."
A young lady of California says: "My knowledge on these sub-
jects is not of books as yet, but as I begin to read I find numerous
confirmations of things I 've seen, as I 've always been given more
or less to 'peering,' and finding things 'a-purpose.'"
645, Bath, N. Y., B. "Two active and two honorary members
have been added, and six others are to be balloted for at next meet-
ing. The librarian takes great interest in the A. A. and helps us
very much."- Charles Kingsley.
576, Hadley, Mass. "We are going to have a new member and a
paper. We have a P. 0. box now, so that we can change our Sec-
retary when we want to. The address now stands like this: Sec. of
Ch. 576 of the A. A., box 241, Hadley, Mass."
[This report has been crowded out for some time, but is too good
to omit for that reason. ]
289. Our Chapter has been removed from Cambria Station to
Longport, N. J., where we have a cottage. We are in a very thriv-
ing condition.
Mrs. S. L. Oberholtzer continues President and I Secretary. We
have several learned naturalists as members, and hold interesting
meetings weekly.
We have 40 members, most of whom add greatly to the interest of
our meetings. Among our prominent members are Professors J. P.
Remington, Eugene Aaron, and Grace Anna Lewis, the last two
being members of the Academy of Natural Sciences, Philadelphia.-
Very cordially, Ellis P. Oberholtzer, Secretary.

129. Imperial Moth.-I found a caterpillar of the Imperial Moth
feeding on maple. I had supposed this larva fed only on pine.- F.
H. Foster, Sec. 440.
130. Alligator.-I saw a note in ST. N. to the effect that Alli-
gators live only in fresh water. In Florida I have frequently see,
them in a salt-water bay, a quarter of a mile from the mouth of the
river. I had supposed that the Nile and the Ganges, in which crocodiles
abound, are entirely fresh water.-Ellen C. Wood.

131. Surfeited Bees.--I have noticed a glutinous substance on
the leaves and smaller twigs of soft maple. Bees swarm around it,
and some get so full that they fall to the ground. Can any one tell
whence, what, and why it is ? C. S. L.
132. Parasites.- I have found minute parasites on the under side
of a live stag-beette.-C. S. L.
133. Laurel-fertilization.- I noticed with admiration the pretty
way in which the stamens of mountain laurel are caught down in
the flower. Ten little pockets in the corolla keep them in place
until some prying insect touches one, when it flies up with a jerk
and dusts him well with pollen. The grains were connected by
threads like those of the azalea.-C.
Si34. .Siders.-I found, under a stone, a large brown spider,
with her family on her back. The little fellows were about as large
as very small ants. I could almost imagine them playing "hide
and seek" on their walking combination of mother, nursery, and
play-ground.- Wm. E. McHenry.
135. Tree-toad.-Why will a tree-toad or a katydid stop singing
when you touch the tree on which it is? You may put your finger
within one-sixteenth of an inch of the tree, and the music continues,
but at the slightest touch it stops.- Frank M. Davis, Sec., St.
Louis, D.
[Let us hear from others regarding this, that we may know
whether it is a generalfact.)
136. Ap#le-blossoms.- I heard it said by an aged lady that pink
apple-blossoms produce red apples, and white blossoms yellow
apples. Is it so ? -L. M. Howe.
137. Violets and Asters.-While walking in the woods this fall
I found a number of common violets. Close by bloomed the purple
aster. It seemed strange that those two flowers, emblems of spring
and fall, should blossom side by side. Is it a common occurrence ?
-R. H. Weld, Boston, Mass.


Cactus.-Jeannie Cowgill, Spearfish, Dakota T'y. *
Phaneus carnifex, 9, for Dytiscus emarginatus or Prionus brevi-
cornus. A cicada for Lucanus dama, or Cotalpa lanigera.-F. W,
Seabury, 51 Duke St., Norfolk, Va.
Minerals, fine specimens, including Brucite, spodumene, and
Franklmite.- C. A. Quintard, Norwalk, Conn.
Petrified wood, mosses, and ferns for an old "Packard's Geology."
- Fannie Staples, Linden, California.
Perfect eggs, with data.- L. B. Fontaine, Augusta, Ga.
Pressed flowers (Write).- Mrs. F. W. Baldwin, Santa Cruz, Cal.
A choice collection of one hundred minerals and one hundred
fossils, for meteorites and very rare fossils.- E. D. Walker, 357 7th
St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
Products giganteus, and crinoid stems, for Mississippi sands.-
S. C. Durst, box 293, Hamilton, Ohio.
To any one sending me four 2-cent stamps, to pay postage and
packing. I will send, free of charge, a box of fine msects.-Ernest
Stephan, Pine City, Minnesota.


It is now time for our Association to do some earnest work in the
collection of drawings of snow-crystals. We have already done
something, but not with sufficient care. Among the drawings sent
me have been many with four, five, and seven points, although I
am assured by eminent scientists that they never can be formed with
any other number than three or a multiple of three. Who is right ?
I wish that I might receive this winter a set of at least six careful
drawings from each Chapter or individual member north of the
snow-line; and to stimulate effort a bit, I will send to the person
forwarding me before April 1, 1885, the best collection of such draw-
ings a year's subscription to ST. NICHOLAS; for the second best
set, that beautiful book of Prof. Winchell, "Sparks from a Geold-
gist's Hammer"; for the third best, "Wonders of Plant Life"; for
the fourth best, "The Botanical Collector's Hand-book," price,
$1.50; and for each of the three sets next in rank, a copy of the
hand-book of the Agassiz Association. All drawings must be made
on cards the size of a postal-card, six crystals on each card; and
each drawing should be accompanied by the following data: Ist.
Locality; 2d. Temperature; 3d. Force of wind; 4th. Collector's
name. The crystals may be caught on black cloth and observed
with a glass or without. The pencil is the best microscope."
Address all communications for this department to the President
of the A. A.,
Principal of Lenox Academy,
Lenox, Berkshire Co., Mass.



UN ~ P