• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 How Santa Claus found the...
 The velocipede express
 Little Kine
 What wakes the flowers?
 Davy and the goblin
 Liesel
 Truly repentant
 His one fault
 "Cat Nancy's" folks
 The children of the cold
 Grown-up land
 How Ernest and Theodore heard the...
 Ye wild march hare
 Driven back to Eden
 Among the law-makers
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The Agassiz association - Forty-eighth...
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 For very little folk
 St. Nicholas
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00154
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00154
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    How Santa Claus found the poor-house
        Page 321
        Page 322
        Page 323
        Page 324
        Page 325
    The velocipede express
        Page 326
    Little Kine
        Page 327
        Page 328
        Page 329
        Page 330
    What wakes the flowers?
        Page 331
        Page 332
    Davy and the goblin
        Page 333
        Page 334
        Page 335
        Page 336
        Page 337
        Page 338
        Page 339
        Page 340
        Page 341
        Page 342
    Liesel
        Page 343
        Page 344
        Page 345
        Page 346
        Page 347
        Page 348
        Page 349
        Page 350
    Truly repentant
        Page 351
    His one fault
        Page 352
        Page 353
        Page 354
        Page 355
        Page 356
        Page 357
    "Cat Nancy's" folks
        Page 358
        Page 359
        Page 360
    The children of the cold
        Page 361
        Page 362
        Page 363
        Page 364
        Page 365
        Page 366
    Grown-up land
        Page 367
    How Ernest and Theodore heard the seventh symphony
        Page 368
        Page 369
        Page 370
        Page 371
    Ye wild march hare
        Page 372
    Driven back to Eden
        Page 373
        Page 374
        Page 375
        Page 376
        Page 377
        Page 378
        Page 379
        Page 380
        Page 381
        Page 382
    Among the law-makers
        Page 383
        Page 384
        Page 385
        Page 386
        Page 387
        Page 388
        Page 389
        Page 390
        Page 391
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 392
        Page 393
    The Agassiz association - Forty-eighth report
        Page 394
        Page 395
    The letter-box
        Page 396
    The riddle-box
        Page 397
        Page 398
    For very little folk
        Page 399
    St. Nicholas
        Page 400
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text
















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ST. NICHOLAS.


VOL. XII. MARCH, 1885. No. 5.

[Copyright, 1885, by THE CENTURY CO.]



HOW SANTA CLAUS FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE.

BY SOPHIE SWETT.


HELIOGABALUS was shoveling snow. The snow
was very deep, and the path from the front door
to the road was a long one, and the shovel was
almost as big as Heliogabalus.
But Gobaly- as everybody called him, for short
-did n't give up easily. You might have known
that he would n't give up easily by one glance at
his sturdy little figure, at his bright, wide-open
eyes, his firm mouth, and his square, prominent
chin;, even the little, turned-up end of his nose
looked resolute.
Besides, Mrs. Pynchum had told him to shovel
out the path; and she had a switch behind the
wood-shed door, to say nothing of her slipper.
Mrs. Pynchum kept the poor-farm, and Gobaly
was "town's poor." The boys sometimes called
him that, when he went to coast on Three-Pine Hill
or to see the skating on the mill-pond; and some-
times, too, they made fun of his clothes. But it
was only the boys who were a great deal bigger
than he who dared to make fun of Gobaly, and
some of them even ran when he doubled up his
fists. But Methuselah! I don't know what would
have become of Methuselah if he had not had
Gobaly to defend him. For he was a delicate
little fellow; spindlin' and good for nothing, Mrs.
Pynchum called him; and he.had come to her in
a basket in other words, Methuselah was a
foundling.
Mrs. Pynchum "did n't think much of children
who came in a basket from nobody knew where.
It did n't seem to belong to Poplarville to support
VOL. XII.-21.


him, since he did n't belong to anybody that ever
lived there, and his keep and his medicine cost
more than he would ever be worth to anybody."
Gobaly's mother died in the poor-house, and
left him there, a baby; she had always lived in the
town, and so had his father, so of course Gobaly
had a perfect right there; and old Dr. Barnacle,
who was very learned, had said of him that he was
an uncommonly fine baby, and had named him
Heliogabalus.
Besides, he was strong and willing, and did a
great deal of work. Mrs. Pynchum could put
up with Gobaly." But Methuselah, she said, was
" a thorn in her side." And now, after being a
trial all his life, he had a hip disease, which the
doctor feared was incurable, and which made him
more troublesome still!
But, after all, Mrs. Pynchum was n't quite so bad
as one would have thought from her talk. She
must have had a soft spot somewhere in her heart,
for she put plums in Methuselah's porridge, now
that he was ill, and once she had let Gobaly leave
his wood-chopping to draw him out on his sled.
I suppose there is a soft spot in everybody's heart,
only sometimes it is n't very easy to find it; and
Mrs. Pynchum might not have been so cross if she
had led an easier life. There were a good many
queer people in the poor-house, flighty in their
heads and wearing' in their ways,"'she said, and some-
times they must have been trying to the patience.
Once in a great while, indeed, Mrs. Pynchum was
good-natured, and then, sometimes for a whole





HOW SANTA CLAUS FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE.


evening, the poor-house would seem like home.
All those who lived there would then sit around
the fire and roast apples; and Mrs. Pynchum
would even unlock the closet under the back
stairs, where there was a great bag full of nuts that
Sandy Gooding and Gobaly had gathered; and
Uncle Sim Perkins would tell stories.
But it happened very unfortunately that Mrs.
Pynchum never had one of her good-natured days
on Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or any holiday.
She was sure to say on those days that she was
"all tried to pieces."
And everybody was frightened and unhappy
when Mrs. Pynchum was "all tried to pieces," and
so that was the reason why Gobaly's heart sank as
he remembered, while he was shoveling the path
through the snow, that the next day was Christmas.
Some people from the village went by with a
Christmas-tree, which they had cut down in the
woods just beyond the poor-house; there were
children in the party, and they called to Gobaly
and wished him a merry Christmas, and asked
him if they were going to have a Christmas-tree
at his house, and expressed great surprise that
he was n't going to hang up his stocking. Then
one of the children suddenly exclaimed :
"Why, that's the poor-house It's never Christ-
mas there "
Poor Gobaly's heart sank still more as he caught
these words, and somehow he felt very tired, and
minded the cold, as he had not thought of minding
it a moment before, and the snow-bank looked as
if he never could shovel through it. For though
Gobaly was stout-hearted, he did n't like to be re-
minded that he was "town's poor," and that
Christmas was nothing to him.
Just then he caught sight of Methuselah's little
pinched face pressed against the window-pane.
Methuselah always had, even when he was a
baby, a worn and pallid face, like a little old man,
and that was why they called him Methuselah. It
was cold in the front room, but Methuselah had
wrapped himself in a piece of an old quilt and stolen
into the back room and to the window, where he
could see Gobaly shoveling the snow.
Methuselah never was quite happy when Gobaly
was out of his sight.
Gobaly went up to the window.
To-morrow 's Christmas, 'Thusely he said.
"Is it? Do you s'pose she knows it? She'll
be 'all tried to pieces,' wont she ? "
(" She" always meant Mrs. Pynchum in the
poor-house; nobody there ever spoke of her in any
other way.)
Gobaly was sadly afraid that she would, but he
said, cheerfully:
May be she wont. May be she '11 let me take


you out on my sled; and one Christmas there was
turkey and plum-pudding."
Must have been a good many Christmases ago;
I can't remember it said Methuselah. Some
folks have 'em every Christmas, Uncle Sim says,
but perhaps it is n't true. Gobaly, do you believe
there really is any Santa Claus, such as Uncle Sim
tells about, or did he make it all up ? To be sure,
he showed me a picture of him."
"I know there is," said Gobaly, firmly, "be-
cause I've seen presents that he brought to boys
and girls in the village."
Then why don't he ever come here and bring
us some ? said Methuselah, as if a new idea had
suddenly struck him. "Do you s'pose it's because
we 're worse than any other boys in the world?
She says we are, sometimes. Or may be he's too
proud to stop at the poor-house."
Perhaps he can't find the way," said Gobaly.
"'Cause it's a pretty crooked road, you know. Or
may be he would n't think it was worth the while to
come so far out of the village just for us; he
would n't be going to Squire Thorndike's, because
there are n't any children there, and there are n't
any other houses on this road."
I wish we lived where there was a truly Christ-
mas, like places where Uncle Sim has been; don't
you, Gobaly? May be he makes them all up,
though; it seems as if they must be too good to be
true."
I should n't wonder if you got lots of plums in
your porridge to-morrow, and perhaps a piece of
mince-pie. And I '11 ask her to let me take you
up to Three-Pine Hill on the sled."
Gobaly always showed the bright side of things
to Methuselah, and he had become so accustomed
to looking for a bright side that he could find one
when you would n't have thought there was any
there.
And whenever he found a very big lump in his
throat he swallowed it for Methuselah's sake, and
pretended that he did n't see anything in the world
to cry about.
He had to go back to his shoveling then, but
after he had started he turned back to say:
When I 'm a man, you shall have Christmases,
'Thusely "
It was in that way that Gobaly often comforted
Methuselah. It never seemed to occur to either
of them that 'Thusely might possibly grow to be
a man too.
Gobaly went to work at the snow again as if it
were not a bit bigger than he was, and he soon had
a rampart piled up on each side of the path so
high that he thought it must look like the Chinese
Wall which Uncle Sim was always telling of.
As he was digging the very last 'shovelful of


[MARCH,


322





.885.1 HOW SANTA CLAUS FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 323


snow out of the path, he heard the jingle of sleigh-
bells, and saw the butcher's wagon, set upon run-
ners and drawn by a very frisky horse, going in the
direction of the village. The butcher's boy and
three of his comrades occupied the seat, and as
many more boys were wedged in among the joints
of meat and heaps of poultry in the back of the


opened, it seemed that before the dog had time to
get out of the way, the sled had gone over him,
and he lay helpless and howling upon the snow !
The boys either found it impossible to stop their
horse, or were too frightened to investigate the ex-
tent of the mischief they had done, for they went
careering on, and left the poor dog to his fate.


"GOBALY TRIED TO DISCOVER HOW BADLY THE DOG WAS HURT."


wagon. They were evidently combining pleasure
with business in the liveliest manner.
Coming in the other direction, from the village,
was a large Newfoundland dog with a basket in
his mouth. Gobaly liked dogs, and he was sure
that he was acquainted with everyone in the village.
As he was on intimate terms with every big one,
he knew that this must be a stranger.
The butcher's boy was driving recklessly, and
seemed to think it would be fun to make a sudden
turn into the drifts through which the dog was
bounding. The horse, taken by surprise and
somewhat frightened, made a sudden plunge;
and though Gobalycould not quite see how it hap-


Gobaly was at his side in a moment, patting his
shaggy black head, calling him "poor doggie "
and good doggie," and trying to discover how
badly he was hurt. He came to the conclusion,
after a thorough examination, that his leg was
either broken or badly sprained,- and Gobaly was
a judge of such things. He had once doctored a
rooster's lame leg, and though the rooster was never
again able to mount a fence, and crowed with di-
minished energy, he was still able to cheer his heart
by fighting the three other roosters all at once, and
was likely to escape the dinner-pot for a long time
to come, though his gait was no longer lordly.
Gobaly had also successfully treated a kitten with a







324 HOW SANTA CLAUS FO

sprained ankle -to say nothing of one whose tail
the gobbler had nipped off. And he had seen the
doctor in the village set a puppy's leg, and had
carefully watched the operation.
He helped the dog along toward the house-
and it was well that he was a strong and sturdy
little fellow or he could not have done it-and
managed at last to get the poor creature, unob-
served, into the wood-shed. He was very much
afraid that Mrs. Pynchum, if she should see him,
would order him to leave the dog in the road, and he
knew it would not do to carry him in beside the
kitchen fire, as he wanted to, for Mrs. Pynchum
never wanted a dirty dog in her clean house."
Gobaly found it hard to decide whether the bone
was broken or only out of place, but he made a
sort of a splint, such as he had seen the doctor use
upon the puppy's leg, and then wound soft cloths,
wet with liniment, about it, and the dog certainly
seemed relieved, and licked Gobaly's hand, and
looked at him with grateful eyes.
He ventured into the house after a while, and
beckoned to Methuselah to come out to the wood-
shed.
Methuselah was convinced that Santa Claus had
sent the dog to them as a Christmas present, and
his delight was unbounded.
Of course, Santa Claus must have sent him, or
why would he have come down this lonely road all
by himself? And you will cure him" (Methuselah
thought there was little that Gobaly could n't do if
he tried), and perhaps she will let us keep him "
But a sudden recollection had struck Gobaly.
The dog had been carrying a basket in his mouth;
there might be something in it that would tell
where he came from.
Though the dog's appearance was mysterious,
Gobaly was not so ready as Methuselah to accept
the Santa Claus theory.
He ran out and found the basket, half buried in
the snow, where it had fallen from the dog's
mouth. There were several letters and papers
in it addressed to Dr. Carruthers, care of Richard
Thorndike, Esq."
Dr. Carruthers was the famous New York physi-
cian who was visiting Squire Thorndike! Gobaly
had heard the people in the village talking about
him. The dog probably belonged to him, and
had been sent to the post-office for his letters.
Although he had not really believed that Santa
Claus sent the dog, Gobaly did feel a pang of dis-
appointment that they must part with him so soon.
But then Mrs. Pynchum would probably not have
allowed them to keep him, anyhow, and she
*might have had him shot because his leg was
hurt. That thought consoled Gobaly, and having
obtained Mrs. Pynchum's permission to carry him


JND THE POOR-HOUSE.


to his master,-which was readily given, since it
was the easiest way to get rid of the dog,-he put
a very large box, with a bed in it made of straw
and soft cloth, upon his sled, and then lifted the
dog gently into the box. The dog whined with
pain when he was moved, but still licked Gobaly's
hand, as if he understood that he was his friend
and did not mean to hurt him.
Methuselah stood in the shed door, and looked
after them, weeping, sadly making up his mind
that Santa Claus was proud and would never come
to the poor-house.
Gobaly had never been even inside Squire Thorn-
dike's gate before, and he went up to one of the
back doors with fear and trembling; the servants
at Squire Thorndike's were said to be "stuck-up,"
and they might not be very civil to town's poor."
But at the sight of the dog they raised a great cry,
and at once ushered Gobaly into the presence of
Squire Thorndike and Dr. Carruthers, that he
might tell them all he knew about the accident.
Dr. Carruthers was a big, jolly-looking man,
with white hair and a long white beard, just like
pictures of Santa Claus. Gobaly was sure that
Methuselah would think he was Santa Claus if he
could see him. He evidently felt very sorry about
the dog's accident, and pitied him and petted him
as if he were a baby; Gobaly, who had never had
so much petting in his whole life, thought the dog
ought to forget all about his leg.
And then he suddenly turned to Gobaly and asked
him who set the leg. Gobaly answered, modestly,
that he fixed it as well as he could because there
was n't anybody else around."
How did you know how?" asked the doctor.
And Gobaly related his experiences with the
rooster and the kitten and the puppy. Dr. Car-
ruthers looked at him steadily out of a pair of
eyes that were very sharp, although very kind.
Then he turned to Squire Thorndike and said "an
uncommon boy." Squire Thorndike answered,
and they talked together in a low tone, casting an
occasional glance at Gobaly.
How Gobaly's ears did burn! He wondered
what Squire Thorndike knew about him, and he
thought of every prank he ever had played in his
life. Gobaly was an unusually good boy, but he
had played a few pranks,--being a boy,--and he
thought they were a great deal worse than they
really were, because Mrs. Pynchumn said so. And
he imagined that Dr. Carruthers was hearing
all about them, and would presently turn round
and say that such a bad boy had no right to touch
his dog, and that such conduct was just what he
should expect of "town's poor." But instead of
that, after several minutes' conversation with Squire
Thorndike, he turned to Gobaly, and said:


[MARCH,






HOW SANTA CLAUS FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE.


I want an office-boy, and I think you are just
the boy to suit me. How would you like to come
and live with me, and perhaps, one of these days,
be a doctor yourself."
Gobaly caught his breath.
To go away from Mrs. Pynchum ; not to be
" town's poor any more; to learn to be a doctor !
He had said once in Mrs. Pynchum's hearing
that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up,
and she had said, sneeringly, that town's poor
were n't very likely to get a chance to learn to be
doctors."
And now the chance had come to him Gobaly
thought it seemed too much like heaven to be
anything that could happen to a mortal boy !
Well, would you like to go ? asked the doc-
tor again, as Gobaly could find no words to
answer.
Would I, sir ? Would n't I! said Gobaly,
with a radiant face.
Well, then, I will make an arrangement with
the selectmen which I have no doubt it will be
easy to do- and will take you home with me to-
morrow night," said the good doctor.
But the brightness had suddenly faded from
Gobaly's face. He stood with his hands thrust
into his trousers pockets, gazing irresolutely at
the carpet.
But it was not the carpet that Gobaly saw; it
might as well have been the yellow paint of the
poor-house floors for all that he noticed of its lux-
urious pile and beautiful colors. It was 'Thusely's
pale, pinched little face that he saw! It had risen
before him even while the doctor was speaking.,
If he went away, who would take care of 'Thusely ?
And 'Thusely's heart would he broken.
I can't go, sir; I forgot. No no I can't
go said Gobaly.
Oh, what a lump there was in his throat i He
had swallowed many a lump for 'Thusely's sake,
but that was the very biggest one !
And then he turned and ran out of the house,
without any ceremony. He knew it was rude, but
that lump would n't stay down, and though he
might be called "town's poor," he was n't going
to be called a cry-baby !
And home he ran, as fast as his legs would carry
him.
That night something very unusual happened.
Mrs. Pynchum went to the village to a Christmas fes-
tival. She went before dark, and the spirits of every-
body in the poor-house rose as soon as she was out
of sight. Mr. Pynchum piled great logs upon the
fire-place, till there was such a roaring fire as had
not been seen there for many a long day; and he
told Joe Golightly and Gobaly to go down cellar
and bring up as many apples as they wanted to,


and he found the key of the closet where the bag
of nuts was kept! And Sandy Gooding brought
out some fine pop-corn that he had saved up;
and Joe Golightly brought out his violin, which,
though some of its strings were broken and its voice
was a little cracked and wheezy, could yet cheer one
up wonderfully with "Bonnie Dundee" and "The
Campbells are Coming." Everybody was merry,-
although there was no Christmas-tree, and nobody
had a present except 'Thusely, who had a big red
peppermint-drop that Gobaly bought him with a
penny hoarded for six weeks and it would have
been a very pleasant evening if there had not
been one great drawback. Mrs. Pynchum had a
way of pouncing upon people when they least
expected her. If a window rattled or a mouse
stirred in the wall, a hush fell upon the mirth, and
everybody shrank with dread. It would be so like
Mrs. Pynchum to suspect that they were having a
good time, and turn back to put a stop to it before
she had fairly reached the festival !
Just as they had poured out a popperful of
corn,-popped out so big and white that it would
do you good to see it,-and Uncle Sim was clear-
ing his throat to begin a story, there came a
loud knock at the door. Everybody jumped.
Mr. Pynchum and Sandy began to cram the
apples into their pockets, and thrust the corn-
popper into the closet, and Joe hid his violin under
his coat-tails. It took them all fully two min-
utes to remember that Mrs. Pynchum never
knocked.
Mr. Pynchum sat down again, and said, in a
tone of surprise, as if he had not been in the least
agitated :
"What is the matter with you all? Gobaly,
open the door."
Gobaly opened the door, and who should be
there but Squire Thorndike and the city doctor!
The moment 'Thusely saw Dr. Carruthers he
called out Santa Claus And the big doctor
laughed, and took a great package of candy out of
his pocket and gave it to 'Thusely.
After that it was of no use for Gobaly to whisper,
"The dog gentleman!" in 'Thusely's ear; he
could n't think it was anybody but Santa Claus.
I 'm so glad you 've come he said, con-
fidentially. And you look just like your picture.
And I don't see why you never came before, for
you don't seem proud. And we are n't such very
bad boys; anyway, Gobaly is n't. Don't you
believe what Mrs. Pynchum tells you !--Will
you ? "
The doctor laughed, and said he was getting to
be an old fellow, and the snow was deep, and it
was hard for him to get about; but he was sorry
he had n't come before, for he thought they did


325






THE VELOCIPEDE EXPRESS.


look like good boys. Then he asked Methuselah
about his lameness and the pain in his side, and
said he ought to be sent to a certain hospital in
New York, where he might be cured. And then
he asked if he had no relatives or friends.
I 've got Gobaly," said 'Thusely.
The doctor turned and looked sharply at Gobaly.
Is he the reason why you would n't go with
me ? he asked.
He 's such a little chap, and I 'm all he 's
got," said Gobaly.
The doctor took out his handkerchief and said
it was bad weather for colds.
Suppose I take him, too ?" said he.
This time the lump in his throat fairly got the
better of Gobaly !
But 'Thusely clapped his hands for joy. He
did n't understand what was to happen, only that
Santa Claus was to take him somewhere with


Gobaly; and one thing that 'Thusely was sure of
was that he wanted to go wherever Gobaly went.
And he kept saying:
I told you that Santa Claus sent the dog,-
now, did n't I, Gobaly?"

Methuselah went to the hospital and was cured,
and Gobaly- well, if I should tell you his name,
you might say that you had heard of him as a
famous surgeon-doctor. I think it is probable
that he could now make a lame rooster or a kitten
with a sprained ankle just as good as new, and I
am sure he would n't be above trying; for he has
a heart big enough to sympathize with any crea-
ture that suffers.
There is at least one person in the world who
will agree with me, and that is a gentleman who
was once a miserable little cripple in a poor-house,
and was called Methuselah.


THE VELOCIPEDE EXPRESS.


ALL aboard for Timbuctoo!
Bert and Victor, Kate and Lou.
Not a "stop" on all the way;-
There and back by light of day!
Ned, the daring engineer,
Brave and strong, scorns every fear.


-a!


Don't you hear the whistle blow?
That 's to scare the cows, you know.
All aboard for Timbuctoo,
Bert and Victor, Kate and Lou.


326


[MARCH,






i885s. LITTLE KINE. 327


LITTLE KINE.

BY M. C. GRIFFIS.

HE home of Little Kine fine linen
is just outside of the like a wrap
great wall and moat of days old s
the castle of Yedo, in some Ame
o rf Japan. Kin& is a little girl
about eleven years of age, timid
and shy, but very amiable and
lovely, as nearly all Japanese
girls are. Just now she is -t
busy with her books, get-
ting an education, both A
in her own language
and in English.
Kine is the daughter of an officer
of the Government. She is the first-
born of his family and the pride of
his heart. When she made her
appearance as the little baby,
there was as much rejoicing in that i
Japanese home as in any home in
America when a little stranger
appears. What a little beauty she
was, with her shining black eyes!
Her old grandma came hundreds
of miles from the southern province
of Sanuki to Yedo to see her little
granddaughter, and to be present
when she was named on the sev-
enth day after her birth.
Then grandmamma must also be
there to accompany the father and
mother when the baby was one
hundred days old, and was carried
to the temple. Her first dress, and
the prayer-bag that all Japanese
children wear until they are seven
or eight years old, were presented
by the grandmamma.
This dress was not of fine cam-
bric and embroidery, like those
which American babies wear, but
was of soft silk, lined with silk wad-
ding, and made like a loose wrap-
per or dressing-gown with long ER CHAINK TO A POST"
square sleeves. Around the baby's
neck was a bib of blue or pink cotton. Kin& and mad
had but few little garments for a baby. A embroider.
very simple wardrobe suffices for Japanese chil- ers and dr
dren. She had no tiny woolen socks, for she silk cords.
needed none. The Japanese baby's feet are "guard fr
always bare. There were no under-garments of all Japanet


or soft wool, only the wadded dress,
per. So when Kind was one hundred
he was carried to the temple, just as
rican parents take their little children
to the church to have them chris-
tened, though Kin6's parents
do not know or worship
the true God. The priest
wrote a prayer on a piece of
paper and put it into the
prayer-bag, which was small


NED BY


e of red crape, fy
ed in white flow-
:awn together by
This bag containing the prayer was the
om evil," and it is devoutly believed by
se to have the power of keeping children






328 LITTLE KINE.


from evil spirits, from delusion by foxes,-for the
people think that foxes can cheat or enchant peo-
ple,- and from all dangers. This little red bag was
attached to the girdle behind. After bestowing a
gift in money upon the priest, the parents and rela-
tives returned home with the little girl and held
a great feast in her honor. Kin6 was carefully
nursed, and carried on the back of a faithful
servant, who fastened her there by a long string
or bandage drawn around the waist and legs
of the child, and crossed .over the neck and
shoulders of the maid. Her little head and bright
eyes would bob on every side as her nurse walked
or ran, and here she would go soundly asleep, or
play as any baby would. She was never carried
in any person's arms. Japanese babies seldom
are. When Kin&'s aunts or cousins wished to
coax her away from her nurse or mother, they
would hold their backs invitingly and she would


little sandals made of straw were put on her feet.
These were fastened on by putting the great toe
through a loop. When she was a year old her
hair, which had been shaved, was allowed to grow
a little ard then tied on the top in a very funny
fashion. Every year it was worn differently.
At six years of age, Kin&'s education was to
begin. First, she must go to writing-school,
where, with other children, she sat down on the
floor, and with a brush made of camel's hair, in-
stead of a pen, and ink, made by rubbing a thick
cake of India ink with a little water on a stone,
she took her first lessons. A square piece of paper
was laid on the floor in front of her, and holding
the brush perfectly straight between her thumb
and first fingers, she made the characters, which
are just like those Chinese letters we see on the
tea-boxes and in tea-stores.
Besides reading and writing, Kine learned to


"FIRST, SHE MUST GO TO WRITING-SCHOOL."


put out her little arms and go to one or another as
she chose. Clasping tightly the neck of the
favored one, and held there by the feet or legs,
she would be as happy as if cuddled up in the
arms. As the baby grew and began to walk,


play on the samisen. This is an instrument some-
thing like the guitar, but with only three strings.
very day the teacher would come to Kin&'s
house, to instruct her and several little cousins of
her own age in singing and playing on this instru-


[MARCH,






LITTLE KINE.


"WHEN THE MUSIC LESSONS WERE OVER, DANCING WAS LEARNED."


ment. Although to Japanese ears no music is
sweeter, to a foreigner it is very harsh. When
the music lessons were over, dancing was learned.
Kine liked these lessons very much. Japanese
dancing is very different from anything we see in
our country. There is no skipping or jumping or
taking steps. The dancer moves the arms and
body slowly and gently, as in a pantomime. Each
dance acts out some story or history. Sometimes
the performers wear a mask or imitate the dog or
fox or some other animal. They change their


dress to suit the characters, and the dances are
often accompanied with verses or recitations.
Until she was ten years of age, Kind learned
writing and reading, dancing and guitar-playing.
When out of school she would spend long hours
playing in the garden; watching the crows as they
came down familiarly to her side, and ventured
sometimes to snatch a bite of her rice-cake; or
watching the wild birds going to roost on the pine-
trees, that grew on the bank of the castle wall, or
the snow-white stately heron standing motionless








LITTLE KINE. [MAXci,


330


in the water. Sometimes she fed the white swans
that swam in the great moat outside the high wall,
or the gold and silver fish that darted so swiftly


floor near by is a small dressing-stand or box, also
containing three small drawers. Her round mir-
ror is made of polished silver, and stands on a


ACCOMPANIED BY HER VANT TARTS FOR SCHOOL.
"ACCOMPANIED BY HER SERVANT, KINC STARTS FOR SCHOOL."


around the pond in the garden. Sometimes Kind
would get the servant to pull a lotus flower, as it
looked to her like a great white star on the water,
and then she would take off the large waxen petals
and get the green calyx. From this she would
pick out a small seed, or nut, which she loved to
eat raw, or roast in the fire, thinking it was much
better than chestnuts. Then she had her pet
rabbits, and her little kitten with a tail only an
inch long, and her chin or spaniel dog with great
round eyes and a pug nose, and there was her pet
monkey, which was fastened by a chain to a post.
Then she had her flowers and dwarf pine-trees, no
higher than little rose-bushes; so that Kind had
enough to amuse and interest her in her Japanese
home.
At ten years of age Kind began to go regu-
larly to school, to have .books, and to learn to
read in her own and a foreign tongue. She has
her own room now; and here we see her in a
bright, pleasant apartment, inclosed on three sides
by latticed sliding doors, covered with white paper.
The only piece of furniture is a bureau of dark
lacquered wood containing three deep drawers,
and having outside doors adorned with the family
coat-of-arms; in this she keeps her clothing. On the


raised piece above. In these drawers we find every-
thing which a Japanese girl needs for her toilet
-white powder, hair-pins, which are very long,
and handsomely ornamented, rouge or green
paint, grease, small pieces of crape, silk, gold or
silver cord, etc. When Kind gets up in the morn-
ing, she washes her face, but does not have to dress
her hair. That is attended to but once a week.
The hair-dresser comes to the house and arranges
her jet-black locks in the fashion for little girls of
her age. Just now she wears it drawn to the top
of her head and formed into two large rings, which
are kept in place by being made over stiff black
muslin. The front hair hangs down the sides of
her face in two locks, and just over her forehead
it is cut short and combed down, much after
the fashion of the "bangs of our little American
girls. So Kind has no trouble about her hair, and
after her bath the servant assists her to powder her
neck with a small white brush. She puts a little
red paint on her lower lip, and a little gilding in
the middle. When she removes her sleeping-dress,
she has on only a short skirt, which is simply a
square piece of cloth, crape, or silk, tied around
the waist. No other under-clothing is worn.
In making her toilet for the day, she first puts


LITTLE KINE.


[MARCH,





WHAT WAKES THE FLOWERS?


on a garment made usually of some coarse ma-
terial, not very long, and reaching only to the
waist, but with long sleeves. On the neck of
this garment is sewed a deep fold of scarlet
or some bright-colored crape or silk. A long,
straight skirt of blue or red crape, silk, or wool is
tied around the waist and over all three of these
garments is worn the kimono, or dress. This is of
some dark color, and made of coarse spun silk or
thick crape. For festivals and holidays the dresses
are of very fine material and very handsome. The
outer dress is simply a wrapper reaching to the
feet, with very long and wide sleeves hanging
nearly to the ground, and used as pockets. On
each shoulder, a deep tuck is made which extends
to the waist, thus making a little fullness for the
skirt. But the dress has no gathers, and is straight
all the way down. The neck is adorned with a
wide piece of black velvet or satin, which reaches
nearly to the waist, and the dress is crossed over
the bosom and confined by a girdle. Over this is
worn a very wide sash, a piece of brocaded silk or
satin, stiff with embroidery in gold or silver, lined
with soft silk, and fastened behind in a very large
bow. When these are all on, Kine, barefooted,
or if in cool weather, in white mitten-socks, made
to reach only to the ankle, and with a place in which
to put the great toe (just as mittens have a place
for the thumb), goes out to say "Ohaio," or good-
morning, to her father and mother. They all enjoy
their breakfast together, sitting on the floor around


small tables. Then Kine gets her books, ties
them up in a large square piece of silk crape, takes
her umbrella, which is made of oiled paper, steps
out of the door on her high wooden clogs, slipping
her toe into the loop by which she holds them on
her feet, and making a low bow to her parents,
starts for school, accompanied by her servant carry-
ing her books. She jogs along, for her walk can
not be called by any other name. The girdle is
so tight around the hips that all freedom is pre-
vented, and the high wooden shoes make the gait
of a Japanese girl or woman exceedingly awkward.
The clattering of these clogs over stones or wooden
bridges, when many Japanese girls walk together,
is very peculiar and disagreeable. Arrived at
school, Kind leaves her shoes outside the door and
steps into the room, her feet in these soft white
socks, moving silently over the clean matted floor.
In the school-room she spends three hours with
the Japanese teachers and three with her English
teacher. She still studies the Chinese characters,
and in her native tongue recites lessons in history
and geography. This is not done in a quiet,
ordinary tone, but shouted out at the top of her
voice in a sing-song way that sounds very funny to
foreign ears. When the Japanese lessons are over,
she spends three hours in learning to read in
English and translate what she reads into Japa-
nese. She learns arithmetic in foreign style, which
is totally different from the old system of her native
land.


t--HAT WAKES THE FLOWERS?

BY CELIA THAXTER.

AT the window broad, upstairs in the hall,
Kate, Robert, Eve, Bessie, and Margery small,
Were curled in the cushioned seat together,
Gazing out on the wintry weather.

The sunset flamed in the western sky,
The slender white moon glittered high;
They looked on the garden beds below
Wrapped in silence and heaped with snow.

Said Margery small, It is dark and cold
Where the little seeds wait in the heavy mold:
How do they know when 't is time to peep?
Have they a calendar hidden deep?"








332 WHAT WAKES THE FLOWERS? [MARCH,


" no," said Kate, 0, not at all !
I'm sure they wake to the bluebird's call;
He comes so early and sings so clear,
His lovely piping they needs must hear."

Said Bessie, "I think it's the wind of the south
That comes as soft as a kiss on your mouth,
And breathes and blows and whispers above,
Come up, pretty blossoms, here's some one you love.'"

Said Eve, "It must be the warm, light rain,
They hear it tapping again and again,
Till it reaches a crystal finger down
To touch them under the earth so brown."


"Why, girls," cried Rob, It's the sun, you know,
Master of all things above and below.
He strikes the earth with his blazing lance,
And the whole world stirs at his splendid glance."

Mamma came gently the curtains through.
" Mamma, mamma, we will leave it to you!
What wakes the flowers when spring is near?
Sun? Wind? Rain? Which of them, mother, dear ?"

She smiled as she glided close and stood,
Her fair arms folded about her brood;
It is the sun, now, is n't it? Say? "
And Rob turned upward his face so gay.

SYes, darlings, the sun, the wind, and the rain
Summon the flowers to bloom again;
Yet sun and earth would be deaf and blind,
But for the mightier Power behind.

"The Power that holds the stars in place
Knows every flower's delightful face,
Gives each its needs with thought sublime,
Bids sun, wind, rain, call each in time.


He has appointed to every one,
Its quiet, innocent race to run.
And if trees and flowers God's laws obey,
We can be dutiful as they."

They clasped and kissed her, and drew her within
To the nursery fire with joyous din,
But the small seeds under the snow so deep
They heard not a sound, they were fast asleep.


WHAT WAKES THE FLOWERS?


[MARCH,


332





DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


333


A REVERY IN GRANDMAMMA'S GARRET.


DAVY AND THE GOBLIN;
OR, WHAT FOLLOWED READING "ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND."

BY CHARLES E. CARRY.


CHAPTER XIL.

A WHALE IN A WAISTCOAT.

DAVY rushed up to the clock, and pulling open
the little door in the front of it, looked inside. To
his great disappointment, the Goblin had again
disappeared, and there was a smooth round hole
running down into the sand, as though he had
gone directly through the beach. He was listen-
ing at this hole in the hope of hearing from the
Goblin, when a voice said, I suppose that's what
they call going into the interior of the country,"
and looking up, he saw the Hole-keeper sitting on


a little mound in the sand, with his great book in
his lap.
His complexion had quite lost its beautiful
transparency, and his jaunty little paper tunic
was sadly rumpled, and, moreover, he had lost his
cocked hat. All this, however, had not at all dis-
turbed his complacent conceit; he was, if any-
thing, more pompous than ever.
How did you get here ?" asked Davy in aston-
ishment.
"I 'm banished," said the Hole-keeper cheer-
fully. That's better than being boiled, any day.
Did you give Robinson my letter? "
"Yes, I did," said Davy, as they walked along






DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


the beach together; "but I got it very wet
coming here."
That was quite right," said the Hole-keeper.


course, he '11 know I 'm coming. It strikes me
the sun is very hot here," he added faintly.
The sun certainly was very hot, and Davy,


"THE COCKALORUM CAREFULLY INSPECTED THE MARKING."


"There's nothing so tiresome as a dry letter.
Well, I suppose Robinson is expecting me, by this
time,- isn't he ?"
"I don't know, I'm sure," said Davy. "He
didn't say that he was expecting you."


*" ;,; .-.... .,_"
'' '-
...~ :-" :-- . '.3.i
I,. , _.
nr~
.'d[ ', ~ ,. . .


looking at the Hole-keeper as he said this, saw that
his face was gradually and very curiously losing
its expression, and that his nose had almost
entirely disappeared.
"What's the matter?" inquired Davy, anxiously.


P


'I


"'I 'M PRETTY WELL, I THANK YOU,' SAID DAVY."

He must be," said the Hole-keeper, positively. "The matter is that I'm going back into the
"I never even mentioned it in my letter-so, of raw material," said the Hole-keeper, dropping his


I ---------" .


I


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


[MARCH,


- r -





2885.] DAVY AND THE GOBLIN. 335


book and sitting down helplessly in the sand.
"See here, Frinkles," he continued, beginning to
speak very thickly. "Wrap me up in my shirt and
markthe packish distingly. Take off shir quigly!"
and Davy had just time to pull the poor creature's
shirt over his head and spread it quickly on the
beach, when the Hole-keeper fell down, rolled
over upon the garment, and bubbling once or
twice, as if he were boiling, melted away into a
compact lump of brown sugar.
Davy was deeply affected by this sad incident,
and though he had never really liked the Hole-
keeper, he could hardly keep back his tears as he
wrapped up the lump in the paper shirt and laid
it carefully on the big book. In fact, he was so
disturbed in his mind that he was on the point of
going away without marking the package, when,
looking over his shoulder, he suddenly caught
,'7& .


package in his very best manner. The Cocka-
lorum, with his head turned critically on one side,
carefully inspected the marking, and then, after
earnestly gazing for a moment at the inkstand,
gravely drank the rest of the ink and offered the
empty inkstand to Davy.
I don't want it, thank you," said Davy, step-
ping back.
"No more do I," murmured the Cockalorun,
and tossing the inkstand into the sea, flew away in
his usual clumsy fashion.
Davy, after a last mournful look at the package
of brown sugar, turned away, and was setting off
along the beach again, when he heard a gurgling
sound coming from behind a great hummock of
sand, and peeping cautiously around one end of it,
he was startled at seeing an enormous Whale on the
beach lazily basking in the sun. The creature was


r/
MW _
NNW


"





S
.14. ----,
.1 ~ r .C
.5.


" I AS N E AS A S- SD TE W E.

"'I 'M AS NIMBLE AS A SIXPENCE,' SAID THIE WHALEE"


sight of the Cockalorum standing close beside
him, carefully holding an inkstand, with a pen
in it, in one of his claws.
Oh thank you very much," said Davy taking
the pen and dipping it in the ink. And will you
please tell me his name?"
The Cockalorum, who still had his head done
up in flannel and was looking rather ill, paused for
a moment to reflect, and then murmured, Mark
him Confectionery.'"
This struck Davy as being a very happy idea, and
he accordingly printed CONFEXIONRY on the


dressed in a huge white garment buttoned up in
front, with a bunch of live seals flopping at one of the
button-holes and a great chain cable leading from
them to a pocket at one side. Before Davy could
retreat, the Whale caught sight of him and called
out in a tremendous voice, "How d 'ye do, Bub? "
I'm pretty well, I thank you," said Davy, with
his usual politeness to man and beast. How are
you, sir? "
"Hearty! thundered the Whale; never felt
better in all my life But it's rather warm lying
here in the sun."


";- -
......,..~.-






DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


Why don't you take off your--," here Davy
stopped, not knowing exactly what itwas the Whale
had on.


shore by the gale. Suddenly, to Davy's astonish-
ment, a dog came sailing along. He was being
helplessly blown about among the lobsters, un-


DAVY ASSISTS THE OLD SEA-DOG.


"Waistcoat," said the Whale, condescendingly.
" It's a canvas-back-duck waistcoat. The front of
it is made of wild duck, you see, and the back of
it out of the foretop-sail of a brig."
"Is it nice, being a Whale?" inquired Davy
curiously.
Famous said the Whale, with an affable roar.
"Great fun, I assure you! We have fish-balls
every night, you know."
Fish-balls at night!" exclaimed Davy. "Why,
we always have ours for breakfast."
"Nonsense!" thundered the Whale, with a
laugh that made the beach quake; "I don't mean
anything to eat. I mean dancing parties."
"And do you dance?" said Davy, thinking
that if he did, it must be a very extraordinary'
performance.
"Dance ?" said the Whale with a reverberating
chuckle. "Bless you I 'm as nimble as a six-
pence. By the way, I '11 show you the advantage
of having a bit of whalebone in one's composition,"
and with these words the Whale curled himself
up, then flattened out suddenly with a tremendous
flop, and shooting through the air like a flying ele-
phant, disappeared with a great splash in the sea.
Davy stood anxiously watching the spot where
he went down, in the hope that he would come up
again; but instead of this, the waves began tossing
angrily, and a roaring sound came from over the
sea, as though a storm were coming up. Then a
cloud of spray was dashed into his face, and
presently the air was filled with lobsters, eels,
and wriggling fishes that were being carried in-


easily jerking his tail from side to side to keep it
out of reach of their great claws, and giving short,
nervous barks from time to time, as though he
were firing signal-guns of distress. In fact, he
seemed to be having such a hard time of it that
Davy caught him by the ear as he was going by,
and landed him in safety on the beach. He
proved to be a very shaggy, battered-looking
animal with a weather-beaten tarpaulin hat jammed
on the side of his head, and a patch over one eye;
and as he had on an old pilot coat, Davy thought
he must be an old sea-dog, and so, indeed, he proved
to be. He stared doubtfully at Davy for a mo-
ment, and then said in a husky voice:
"What's your name?" as if he had just men-
tioned his own.
Davy,-" began the little boy, but before he
could say another word, the old sea-dog growled:
"Right you are!" and handing him a folded
paper, trotted gravely away, swaggering as he went,
like a sea-faring man.
The paper was addressed to Davy Jones," and
was headed inside "Binnacle Bob: His werses," and
below these words Davy found the following story:
To inactivity inclined
Was Captain Parker Pitch's mind;
In point of fact, 't was fitted for
An easy-going life ashore.
"His disposition, so to speak,
Was nautically soft and weak;
He feared the rolling ocean, and
He very much preferred the land.


336


[MARCH,


ft~


-'



Ax$


/
--5









1885.) DAVY AND THE GOBLIN. 337


"A stronger-minded man by far
Was gallant Captain Thompson Tar
And (what was very wrong, I think,)
He marked himself with India ink.

"He boldly sailed, The Soaking Sue'
When angry gales and tempests blew,
And even from the nor-nor-east
He did n't mind 'em in the least.

"Now, Captain Parker Pitch's sloop
Was called The Cozy Chickencoop '-
A truly comfortable craft
With ample state-rooms fore and aft.

"No foolish customs of the deep,
Like 'watches,' robbed his crew of sleep ;
That estimable lot of men
Were all in bed at half-past ten.

"At seven bells, one stormy day,
Bold Captain Tar came by that way,
And in a voice extremely coarse
He roared 'Ahoy!' till he was hoarse.

Next morning of his own accord
This able seaman came aboard,
And made the following remark
Concerning Captain Pitch's bark:

" 'Avast!' says he, 'Belay/ What cheer!
How comes this little wessel here ?
Come, tumble up your crew,' says he,
'And navigate a bit with me!'

"Says Captain Pitch, I can't refuse
To join you on a 'friendly cruise ;
But you 'll oblige me, Captain Tar,
By not a-taking of me far.'

"At this reply from Captain Pitch,
Bold Thompson gave himself a hitch;
It 'cut him to the heart to find
A seaman in this frame of mind.

'Avast/' says he; 'We 'Id bear away
For Madagascar and Bombay,
Then down the coast to Yucatan,
Kamtschatka, Guinea, and Japan.

"'Stand of for Egypt, Turkey, Spain,
Australia, and the Spanish Main,
Then through the nor-west passage for
Van Dieman's Land and Labrador.'
VOL. XII.-22.


"Says Captain Pitch.- 'The ocean swell
Makes me exceedingly unwell,
And, Captain Tar, before we start,
Pray join me in a friendly tart.'


"And shall I go and take and hide
The sneaking trick that Parker tried?
Oh! no. I very much prefer
To state his actions as they were :


"With marmalade he first began
To tempt that bluff sea-faring man,
Then fed him all the afternoon
With custard in a table-spoon.


"No mariner, however tough,
Can thrive upon this kind of stuf-;
And Thompson soon appeared to be
A feeble-minded child of three.


/


"He cried for cakes and lollipops-
He played with dolls and humming tops-
He even ceased to roar 'I'm blowed!'
And shook a rattle, laughed, and crowed.


1885.]


DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


337







338 DAVY AND THE GOBLIN. [MARCH,


When Parker saw the seamen gaze
Upon the Captain's cunning ways,
Base envy thrilled him through and through
And he became a child of two.

"Now, Thompson had in his employ
A mate, two seamen, and a boy;
The mate was fond as he could be
Of babies, and he says, says he,

'Why, messmates, as we 're all agreed
Sea-bathing is the thing they need;
Let 's drop these infants off the quarter!'
-(They did, in fourteen fathom water)."

Just as Davy finished these verses, he discovered
to his alarm that he was sinking into the beach as
though the sand were running down through an
hour-glass, and before he could make any effort to
save himself, he had gone completely through and
found himself lying flat on his back with tall grass
waving about him.

CHAPTER XIIi.

THE END OF THE BELIEVING VOYAGE.

WHEN Davy sat up and looked around him, he
found himself in a beautiful meadow with the sun
shining brightly on the grass and the wild-flowers.
The air was filled with dainty colored insects dart-
ing about in the warm sunshine, and chirping
cheerily as they flew, and at a little distance the
Goblin was sitting on the grass attentively exam-
ining a great, struggling creature that he was hold-
ing down by its wings.
"I suppose,"-said the Goblin, as if Davy's
sudden appearance was the most ordinary thing in
the world,-" I suppose that this is about the fun-
niest bug that flies."
"What is it ?" said Davy, cautiously edging away.
"It 's a cricket-bat," said the Goblin, rapping
familiarly with his knuckles on its hard shell.
His body is like a boot-jack, and his wings are
like a pair of umbrellas."
But, you know, a cricket-bat is something to
play with!" said Davy, surprised at the Goblin's
ignorance.
"Well, you may play with it if you like. I
don't want to said the Goblin, carelessly tossing
the great creature over to Davy, and walking away.
The cricket-bat made a swoop at Davy, knock-
ing him over like a feather, and then with a loud
snort, flew away across the meadow. It dashed
here and there at flying things of every kind, and
turning on its side, knocked them, one after
another, quite out of sight, and finally, to Davy's
great relief, disappeared in a distant wood.


"Come on 1 come on!" cried a voice; and
Davy, looking across the meadow, saw the Goblin
beckoning vigorously to him, apparently in great
excitement.
What's the matter ? cried Davy, pushing his
way through the thick grass.
Oh, my oh, my I shrieked the Goblin, who
was almost bursting with laughter. Here 's that
literary hack again "
Davy peered through a clump of bushes and
discovered a large red animal with white spots on
its sides, clumsily rummaging about in the tall
grass and weeds. Its appearance was so formi-
dable that he was just about whispering to the Gob-
lin, "Let 's run when the monster raised its
head and, after gazing about for an instant, gave a
loud, triumphant whistle.
"Why, it's Ribsy cried Davy, running for-
ward. "It's Ribsy, only he 's grown enorm-
ously fat."
It was Ribsy, indeed, eating with all his might.
The name on .his side was twisted about be-
yond all hope of making it out, and his collar
had quite disappeared in a deep crease about his
neck. In fact, his whole appearance was so alarm-
ing that Davy anxiously inquired of him what he
had been eating.
Everything! said Ribsy enthusiastically.
Grass, nuts, bugs, birds, and berries All of
'em taste good. I could eat both of you, easily,"
he added, glaring hungrily down upon Davy and
the Goblin.
Try that fellow first," said the Goblin, pointing
to a large round insect that went flying by, hum-
ming like a top. Ribsy snapped at it and swallowed
it, and the next instant disappeared with a tremen-
dous explosion in a great cloud of smoke.
"What was that?" said Davy, in a terrified
whisper.
"A Hum Bug," said the Goblin calmly. "When
a cab-horse on a vacation, talks about eating you, a
Hum Bug is a pretty good thing to take the conceit
out of him. They 're loaded, you see, and they
go booming along as innocently as you please, but
if you touch 'em-why, 'there you are n't!' as
the Hole-keeper says."
"The Hole-keeper is n't himself any more," said
Davy mournfully.
"Not altogether himself, but somewhat," said
a voice; and Davy, looking around, was astonished
to find the Hole-keeper standing beside him. He
was a most extraordinary-looking object, being
nothing but Davy's parcel marked, "CONFEX-
IONRY," with arms and legs and a head to it.
At the sight of him the Goblin fell flat on his back,
and covered his face with his hands.
"I 'm quite aware that my appearance is not






DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


prepossessing," said the Hole-keeper, with a scorn-
ful lookat the Goblin. In fact, I'm nothing but
a quarter of a pound of 'plain,' and the price is n't
worth mentioning."
But how did you ever come to be alive again,
at all," said Davy.
"Well," said the Hole-keeper, the truth of the
matter is that after you went away, the Cockalo-
rum fell to reading the
Vacuum; and if you '11
believe it, there was
n't a word in it about
my going back into the ,r
raw material."
I do believe that," I
said Davy; but the
Hole-keeper, without- .
noticing the interrup- i
tion, went on:
Then, of course, I -- -, i
got up and came away.
Meanwhile, the Cock- i
alorum is filling him- .
self with information."
I don't think he '11
find much in your
book," said Davy, '
laughing.
"Ah butjust think
of the lots and lots of i.
things he wont find,"
exclaimed the Hole- '
keeper. "Everything
he does n't find in it .. '. 'y
is something worth
knowing. By the way,"
your friend seems to "-
be having some sort of '
a fit. Give him some .
dubbygrums," and -
with this, the Hole- -
keeper stalked pom-
pously away. '/ '
"The smell of sugar
always gives me the-
craw-craws," said the
Goblin, in a stifled
voice, rolling on the
ground, and keeping
his hands over his face. DAVY FALLS
Get me some water."


"I have n't anything to get it in," said Davy,
helplessly.
"There's a buttercup behind you," groaned
the Goblin, and Davy, turning, saw a buttercup
growing on a stem almost as tall as he was himself.
He picked it, and hurried away across the meadow


to look for water, the buttercup, meanwhile, grow-
ing in his hand in a surprising manner, until it
became a full-sized tea-cup, with a handle con-
veniently growing on one side. Davy, however,
had become so accustomed to this sort of thing
that he would not have been greatly surprised if
a saucer had also made its appearance.
Presently he came upon a sparkling little spring,




/ 9
.-.
i -


f/./ P \ -) q ,:



r,,,7 ;I -. .
'. -': :.. 1! I!", ';..""


INTO THE ELASTIC SPRING. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


gently bubbling up in a marshy place with high
sedgy grass growing about it, and being a very neat
little boy, he took off his shoes and stockings and1
carefully picked his way over the oozy ground to
the edge of the spring itself. He was just bending
over to dip the cup into the spring, when the


339


!








DAVY AND THE GOBLIN. IMANCH,


ground under his feet began trembling like jelly,
and then, giving itself a convulsive shake, threw
him head-foremost into the water.
For a moment Davy had a very curious sensation
as though his head and his arms and his legs were
all trying to get inside of his jacket, and then he
came sputtering to the top of the water and scram-
bled ashore. To his astonishment he saw that the
spring had spread itself out into a little lake, and


/ I,

I~~ /


"'FRECKLES,' SAID THE GOBLIN, 'WHAT TIME
that the sedge-grass had grown to an enormous
height and was waving far above his head. Then
he was startled by a tremendous roar of laughter,
and looking around, he saw the Goblin, who was
now apparently at least twenty feet high, standing
beside the spring.
Oh, my cried the Goblin, in an uncontroll-
able fit of merriment. Another minute and you
would n't have been bigger than a peanut "
What's the matter with me? said Davy, not
knowing what to make of it all.
Matter ? cried the Goblin. Why, you've
been and gone and fallen into an Elastic Spring,
that's all. If you 'd got in at stretch tide, early in
the morning, you 'd have been a perfect giraffe, but
you got in at shrink tide and-oh, my! oh, my!"
and here he went off into another fit of laughter.
I don't think it's anything to laugh at," cried
Davy, with the tears starting to his eyes, and I 'm
sure I don't know what I'm going to do."
. "Oh! don't worry" said the Goblin, good-nat-
uredly. "I '11 take a dip myself, just to be com-
panionable, and to-morrow morning we can get
back to any size you like."


I wish you'd take these in with you said Davy,
pointing to his shoes and stockings. They're
big enough now for Badorful."
All right cried the Goblin. Here we go;"
and taking the shoes and stockings in his hand he
plunged into the spring, and a moment afterward
scrambled out exactly Davy's size.
Now, that's what I call a nice, tidy size," said
the Goblin complacently, while Davy was squeezing
his feet into his wet shoes.
What do you say to a ride
on a field-mouse ? "
S"That will be glorious !"
S, said Davy.
"Well, there goes the
_- ._ sun," said the Goblin; "it
-- will be moonlight present-
w I ly," and as he spoke, the sun
Q .N iy. _. went down with a boom like
a distant gun and left them
i in the dark. The next mo-
Sment a beautiful moon rose
S above the trees and beamed
Down pleasantly upon them,
S and the Goblin, taking Davy
'' t \ by the hand, led him into
the wood.

"Freckles," said the Gob-
lin, what time is it?"
They were now in the
densest part of the wood,
where the moon was shining
brightly on a little pool with rushes growing about
it, and the Goblin was speaking to a large toad.
"Forty croaks," said the Toad, in a husky
whisper; and then, as a frog croaked in the pool,
he added:- "That makes it forty-one. The
Snoopers have come in, and Thimbletoes is shak-
ing in his boots." Andwith these words the Toad
coughed, and then hopped heavily away.
What does he mean? whispered Davy.
He means that the Fairies are here, and that
means that we wont get our ride," said the Gob-
lin, rather sulkily.
"And who is Thimbletoes ? said Davy.
He 's the Prime Minister," said the Goblin.
SYou see, if any one of the Snoopers finds out
something the Queen did n't know before, out
goes the Prime Minister, and the Snooper pops
into his boots. Thimbletoes does n't fancy that,
you know, because the Prime Minister has all the
honey he wants, by way of a salary. Now, here's
the mouse-stable, and don't you speak a word,
mind "
As the Goblin said this, they came upon a little
thatched building, about the size of a baby-house,


DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


[MARCH,






5] DAVY AND THE GOBLIN. 341


standing just beyond the pool; and the Goblin,
cautiously pushing open the door, stole noiselessly
in, with Davy following at his heels, trembling
with excitement.
The little building was curiously lighted up by
a vast number of fire-flies, hung from the ceiling
by loops of cobweb; and Davy could see several
spiders hurrying about among them and stirring
them up when the light grew dim. The field-mice
were stabled in little stalls on either side, each
one with his tail neatly tied in a bow-knot to a
ring at one side; and at the farther end of the
stable was a buzzing throng of fairies, with their
shining clothes and gauzy wings sparkling beauti-
fully in the soft light. Just beyond them Davy
saw the Queen sitting on a raised throne, with a
little mullen-stalk for a scepter, and beside her
was the Prime Minister, in a terrible state of agi-
tation.
"Now, here 's this Bandybug," the Prime
Minister was saying. "What does he know about
untying the knots in
a cord of wood ? "
Nothing !" said
the Queen, positive-
ly. "Absolutely '
nothing."
"And then," con-
tinued the Prime
Minister, the idea
of his presuming to
tell your Gossamer
Majesty that he can
hear the bark of the
dogwood trees .
Bosh cried > '
the Queen. "Paint
him with raspberry
jam and put him to ..
bed in a bee-hive. ,
That '11 make him
smart, at all events." -
Here the Prime'
Minister began
dancing about in an
ecstasy, until the
Queen knocked him
over with the mul- DAVY FELT MORALLY
len-stalk, and shout-
ed, Silence and plenty of it, too. Bring in
Berrylegs."
Berrylegs, who proved to be a wiry little fairy,
with a silver coat and tight, cherry-colored trousers,
was immediately brought in. His little wings
fairly bristled with defiance, and his manner, as he
stood before the Queen, was so impudent that Davy
felt morally certain there was going to be a scene.


"May it please your Transparent Highness-"
began Berrylegs.
Skip all that interrupted the Queen,
flourishing her mullen-stalk.
"Skip, yourself!" said Berrylegs, boldly, in
reply. Don't you suppose I know how to talk
to a queen!"
The Queen turned very pale, and after a hurried
consultation with the Prime Minister, said, faintly,
" Have it your own way," and Berrylegs began
again.
"May it please your Transparent Highness,
I've found out how the needles get into the hay-
stacks."
As Berrylegs said this, a terrible commotion
arose at once among the Fairies. The Prime
Minister cried out, "Oh, come, I say! That's
not fair, you know," and the Queen became so
agitated that she began taking great bites off the
end of the mullen-stalk in a dazed sort of way;
and Davy noticed that the Goblin, in his excite-


CERTAIN THERE WAS GOING TO BE A SCENE."


ment, was trying to climb up on one of the mouse-
stalls so as to get a better view of what was going
on. At last the Queen, whose mouth was now
quite filled with bits of the mullen-stalk, mumbled,
"Get to the point."
It ought to be a sharp one, being about nee-
dles," said the Prime Minister, attempting a joke
with a feeble laugh, but no one paid the slightest






342 DAVY AND THE GOBLIN.


attention to him; and Berrylegs, who was now
positively swelling with importance, called out in
a loud voice: "It comes from using sewing-ma-
chines when they sow the hay-seed!"
The Prime Minister gave a shriek and fell flat
on his face, and the Queen began jumping frantic-
ally up and down and beating about on all sides
of her with the end of the mullen-stalk, when
suddenly a large cat walked into the stable and
the Fairies fled in all directions, There was no
mistaking the cat, and Davy, forgetting entirely
the Goblin's caution, exclaimed, "Why! it's
Solomon !"'
The next instant the lights disappeared, and
Davy found himself in total darkness, with Solo-
mon's eyes shining at him like two balls of fire.
There was a confused sound of sobs and cries and
the squeaking of mice, among which could be
heard the Goblin's voice crying, "Davy! Davy !"
in a reproachful way; then the eyes disappeared,
and a moment afterward the stable was lifted off
the ground and violently shaken.
"That's Solomon, trying to get at the mice,"
thought Davy. : "I wish the old thing had staid
away !" he added aloud, and as he said this the
little stable was broken all to bits, and he found
himself sitting on the ground in the forest.


The moon had disappeared, and snow was fall-
ing rapidly, and the sound of distant chimes
reminded Davy that it must be past midnight, and
that Christmas-day had come. Solomon's eyes
were shining in the darkness like a pair of coach-
lamps, and as Davy sat looking at them, a ruddy
light began to glow between them, and presently
the figure of the Goblin appeared dressed in scar-
let, as when he had first come. The reddish light
was shining through his stomach again, as though
the coals had been fanned into life once more, and
as Davy gazed at him it grew brighter and stronger,
and finally burst into a blaze. Then Solomon's
eyes gradually took the form of great brass balls,
and presently the figure of the long-lost Colonel
came into view just above them, affectionately
hugging his clock. He was gazing mournfully
down upon the poor Goblin, who was now blazing
like a dry chip, and as the light of the fire grew
brighter and stronger, the trees about slowly took
the shape of an old-fashioned fire-place with a high
mantel-shelf above it, and then Davy found him-
self curled up in the big easy-chair, with his dear
old grandmother bending over him, and saying,
gently, "Davy! Davy! Come and have some din-
ner, my dear."
In fact, the Believing Voyage was ended.
END.


I-


7
V-I




Zv
.$4iihr


[MARCH,


""ss~!?, 1






LIESEL.


LIESEL.

BY MRS. JULIA SCHAYER.


IF you had been in a certain little German village
one summer morning many years ago, and had
strolled along by the hedge which separated old
Brigitta's garden from the high-road, you would
'surely have thought that a dozen linnets and finches
were sitting on the same bough, all singing together
on a wager. But it was only Liesel, Brigitta's grand-
child, on her way from the castle, where she had
been to get the soup which, by the gracious count-
ess's orders, was made every day in the great kitchen
for the poor, bedridden old woman.
Looking at her as she tripped along in her red
dress, blue apron and white kerchief, it was no
wonder that the poor people were strengthened in
their belief that the child born on a Sunday, as
Liesel was, is under Heaven's special care.
True, she had been an orphan since her baby-
hood, and poor indeed, so far as worldly riches go;
but, for a lovely face, a sweet voice, a wise little
head, and a happy disposition, Liesel's match
would have been hard to find. The whole village
was fond of Liesel, and as she passed, singing on her
way, every one had a smile and a Griiss Gott! "
(" God bless you ") for the sweet child. The
grimy blacksmith stopped hammering to gaze after
her, and the red-headed baker's boy dropped two
or three of the loaves he was carrying, in his eager-
ness to catch her eyes. Even the grandmother's
wrinkled face brightened as Liesel entered the
small, dim room like a burst of sunshine, and she
ate the good soup Liesel had brought with a
relish,- grumbling, however, from force of habit,
at every mouthful.
Oh, my poor back If only I might have a
sup of wine now and then to strengthen me Oh,
if my good son had lived!." and so on and on in
one weary strain.
"Have patience, Granny !" Liesel said, smiling
mysteriously as she patted the wrinkled cheek.
"The wine may come yet. Who knows?"
Who knows, indeed ? snapped the poor creat-
ure. "Where should it come from? Tell me
that? You have found the golden goose, perhaps !"
Liesel smiled still more mysteriously. "Was
n't I born on a Sunday ?" she said, with a gay
little laugh.
Small luck it has brought you so far mut-
tered old Brigitta, not to be coaxed out of her
determination to be uncomfortable.
The luck will come some time, dear Granny!"
declared Liesel, bustling about her morning tasks


with unusual haste. The old woman eyed her
sharply a moment, but said nothing, and fell
asleep at last, in spite of herself. Then Liesel,
who had made everything cozy and neat, laid the
old leather-bound Bible, horn-bowed spectacles,
and coarse knitting-work on a stool by the bedside,
and taking a little covered basket from a peg, left
the cottage.
Before the door a few geese were paddling in a
dirty pool; but at sight of Liesel they set up a loud
gobbling, and leaving the puddle, waddled on be-
fore her to the goose-common outside the village.
Just above the edge of a rock in the middle of the
field, a queer-looking object, resembling a bunch of
sere grass, could be seen moving about. With a
hearty cry of "Hey, Dick-Kopf!" Liesel ran
toward the rock; when the strange object rose a
few inches higher, revealing the fact that it was the
head of a boy-a broad-faced, good-natured-look-
ing boy, dressed in wide yellow trousers drawn very
high over a coarse linen shirt, and kept in place by
horn buttons of prodigious size. He greeted Liesel
with a wide smile of satisfaction.
Dick-Kopf! cried the little girl, quite out of
breath, "only listen! There is to be a grand
dinner at the castle to-day; and Christine, the
cook, who is so kind to me always, has begged
me to bring her mushrooms, for she has not
enough, and was going on-I tell you-at a
great rate. Quite in a French rage, I suppose it
was. Well, listen, I tell you!" she repeated,
quite needlessly, as Dick-Kopf was open-mouthed
with eager attention, "she has promised me
money-money! Do you hear, boy? And if you
will look after my geese until I return, I will give
you a penny-perhaps more!" she added, with
the air of a great banker.
Dick-Kopf, whose real name, by the way, was
Wilhelm, scratched his ear and regarded her with
an injured air.
"Go, mddcehen Go, of course," he said, re-
proachfully. "I don't want your money."
Stupid boy cried Liesel, giving him a play-
ful slap. "We shall see about that. Good-bye,
then! and away she ran, and was soon lost to
Dick-Kopf's sight in the fir wood beyond the
common. It seemed ages to the patient, waiting
boy, before Liesel's pretty figure again appeared,
although it was, in fact, but two hours. She came
running toward him, quite rosy and breathless
with fatigue and excitement, her blue apron


343







DIESEL. [MARCH,


gathered tightly in one hand, and bulging out
in a way which made Dick-Kopf smile even more
expansively than usual.
Ah he cried, springing to his feet, and fix-
ing his small eyes upon the apron as if they would
bore holes in it, what have you there? "
"That is for you to guess," said Liesel, with
an important air.
Semmein / (" wheaten rolls ") ventured the
boy, after deep reflection.
"Nun (well), I must confess," said the girl,
affecting great surprise, as she produced several
of those tempting little wheaten rolls, you are
not so stupid as one might have imagined. What
else?"
Dick-Kopf, apparently quite pleased with his
doubtful compliment, glowed with anticipation.
"Apple cakes! he cried.
"Nonsense!" Liesel said, loftily. "Apple
cakes at this season! Try again."
"Poppy-seed cakes "
"No."
"Almond cakes!" shouted the boy, quite be-
side himself.
"Why not?" Liesel said coolly, displaying a
number of those delicate creations of the pastry-
cook. Come, let us sit here in the shade of the
rock and eat. I am quite used up."
It is doubtful if the sun shone that day on a hap-
pier pair than those two, as they chatted and
laughed over the goodies which "so seldom inter-
rupted their daily fare of black bread and cheese.
For some moments, although it was evident that
Liesel was full of her adventures since leaving
Dick-Kopf, there was less talking than eating;
but at length, having reached a point where speech
was possible, she shook the crumbs from her apron
and began:
"You see," said Liesel, "I was a long time
getting my basket filled; and though I took a
short cut to the castle, I saw by the clock I was
late, and I quite forgot myself and began running
with all my might across the court, and, turning a
corner,-what do you think? I ran plump
against a gentleman 1 "
"No cried Dick-Kopf, aghast.
"As I live Liesel responded, with smothered
laughter. I thought for a moment I should die
with fear. I dared not look up, but stood there
curtsying as fast as I could, and then the gentle-
man cried out in such a big voice, Hundert-
tausend-donner-wetter-noch-ein-mal! What have
we here?' 'If you please, gracious sir,' said I,
all of a tremble, 'it 's mushrooms for the cook.'
And then, if you '11 believe me, he began laughing,
although I can't imagine why; and I looked up and
saw that he was a very fine old gentleman, very


kind-looking and splendid, with a great jewel
shining on his breast, and then--"
Nun / And then ? said Dick-Kopf, as Liesel
paused.
"Well, and then," she went on, laughing and
blushing, he said something about my eyes, and
said he was sure I was the little maiden he had
heard singing behind a hedge in the village, and
asked me such a lot of queer questions !-until I
thought of Christine and the mushrooms, and I
began to be uneasy, not daring to run away, you
know, and he must have guessed this, for he sent
me off at last. When I came to the kitchen, things
were in a great state, I can tell you! Christine
was quite purple in the face, and was screaming at
the maids and shaking her spoon at them enough
to scare one, but nobody seemed to mind. And
oh, the fine things I saw preparing for the dinner !
Bettine took me to the housekeeper, who paid me
for the mushrooms, and took me to the countess,
who was having her hair dressed for dinner, and
was covered with a great silken mantle. She was
so sweet and kind She asked after Grandmother,
and ordered the housekeeper to give me a bottle of
red wine for her. Only fancy And then Chris-
tine gave me these nice things, and I ran home
quick with the wine, and then hastened here.
And that is all "
Dick-Kopf, who had reached his last crumb of
almond cake, became at this juncture quite mel-
ancholy.
"Ach du lieber!" (" thou dear one!") he
sighed, and great people dine like that every
day in the year, if they choose Only think,
Liesel! Five meals a day and nothing to do!
What a beautiful way to live "
Liesel burst into a laugh.
"Pfui! Greedy boy!" she cried. "One should
not live merely to eat! "
"N-no, perhaps not," assented Dick-Kopf,
but with hesitation. Say, Liesel, would not you
like to be a fine lady ?"
"I a great lady ? Nonsense laughed the little
girl. Every one to his own station, say I she
added, with one of her wise looks. "I am not fit
for such a life."
"Why not?" persisted Dick-Kopf. "You are
far prettier than that proud little Adelberta up
yonder at the castle "
The idea," cried Liesel, of comparing me, a
peasant child, with that fine little lady "
Pooh retorted the boy, "fine feathers do not
make fine birds One would think, to hear you,
that those people were made of different flesh and
blood from us. Why," went on the boy, with
enthusiasm, "look at your hair like yellow silk,
and your eyes and complexion- "


LIESEL.


[MARCH,






LIESEL.


Oh," interrupted Liesel, indifferently, "all the She was always laughing atDick-Kopf, and nothing
girls in the village have yellow hair and blue eyes. pleased him better than to hear her laugh.
That is nothing to boast of, I'm sure." "Would n't you like to change places with
Frdulein Adelberta,
now, for instance," he
said again, being a de-
t termined boy.
-_- -" Well," Liesel an-
swered, more thought-
S-'--- fully, I should like
Sto read her books, and
learn to play on that
z. splendid, great piano;
.- .... r but there are other
--.. things I should not like.
I'm afraid I should not
like to wear shoes and
~ gloves all the time, and
Walk stiffly along, and
.never climb trees, nor
: "' r sit on the grass, and I
.. am afraid-I know-
I should not like that.
governess! You should
% hear her scold, if the
S' gracious frdulein stops
e ad'-d -s to speak to any one.
One day she stopped
in the court-yard to,
show me a beautiful
wax doll with real hair,
S-.and eyes that open and
shut; when up came
Friulein Longenbeck,
and said in suck a sharp
voice, Come,gnddiges
frdulein( gracious lady),
/ that is not proper!"
SAnd she took the doll
from my hand."
L ... "Proper, indeed "
-' "-". remarked Dick-Kopf,
disrespectfully. "Butit
would be different with
a boy, you see! Ah, I
should like to be the
young count, with his
toys, and pony, and
S-donkey-wagon -- "
"And Latin books,"
S. A put in Liesel, 'laughing
mischievously.
..A. "- -- Dick-Kopf had to
LIESEL LEAVES DICK-KOPF IN CHARGE OF HER GEESE. DickKopf ad to.
smile, too, at this.
"Bah!" cried Dick-Kopf, shaking his flaxen That would be hard, I confess," he said,
mane, so have I,-but they are not like yours," "but if I am stupid, you are clever enough for
he added, slyly; at which Liesel laughed again. anything, and every one says you were born for







LIES EL. [MARCH,


luck. Do you remember what the old gypsy at the
fair told you? "
"About my becoming rich and great? Yes, I
remember; but what person of sense believes in
witches and fortune-tellers nowadays ?" said Liesel.
I do," declared Dick-Kopf, stoutly, and I am
a person of sense At any rate I believe in that
one; for did n't she tell me I was going to meet
with great misfortunes soon, and did n't I lose my
pocket-knife, which I had just bought, on my way
home, and fall over a stone and bruise my knee,
and get my ears soundly boxed for staying so long
at the fair? "
Liesel laughed again.
"Yes," she said, it is no wonderyou believe
in fortune-tellers after all that."
In this way the good comrades chatted away
the afternoon, and when the sun was going down
behind the hill, in such splendor that the windmill
on its summit looked as if it were on fire, they
called their geese together and drove them gayly
homeward.
When Dick-Kopf went to bed that night, a
bright three-penny piece fell from one of his
pockets.
"Ack!" cried he, in great wonder, for not a
word had been said on the subject, "how did she
get that into my pocket without my knowing it.
She is a smart child, that Liesel!"

PART II.

LIESEL went daily to the castle for the soup, and
after her house-work was done, spent the rest of
each long summer day on the goose-common with
Dick-Kopf. Every day she had something new
and interesting to tell him. She had met several
times the kind old gentleman (who was no less
a personage than the rich and eccentric Prince
Poniatowsky himself); and each time he had
stopped to talk with her, and had said so many
droll things that, through much laughing, she had
lost all fear, and they were now on quite friendly
terms.
"You see," she explained to the awe-stricken
Dick-Kopf, "he is not at all like the other great
people."
"Has he given you anything?" asked that
practical youth, on one occasion.
"No, indeed!" exclaimed Liesel, coloring.
He sees that if I am a poor child I am no
beggar!"
"You are a queer one," said Dick-Kopf, look-
ing somewhat ashamed; "but I believe you are
right."
The castle was full of visitors now; for a grand
review was to take place in the neighborhood, at


which the king himself was to be present. Every
day there were dinner-parties, hunting-parties,
balls, and fetes. Good Christine took care that her
little favorite should have a peep at the elegantly
spread tables and the ladies in full dress, and even
allowed her to bring Dick-Kopf sometimes and
stand at an open window of the grand drawing-
room to listen to the music and watch the dancing.
The children could hardly sleep for thinking of the
things they saw and heard. Sometimes, as they
sat tending their geese, the roll of wheels and
clatter of hoofs would reach their ears, and they
would run to the roadside to gaze at the carriages
full of beautifully dressed ladies, and the splendid
officers mounted on high-stepping horses and
glittering with golden stars and crosses and em-
broidery.
"Ack cried Dick-Kopf, one day. "That is
something for me! I will be a soldier, too, one
of these days."
Of course," said Liesel, all young men must
be soldiers in Germany."
"That is not what I mean, though. I will be
a great soldier An officer! declared the boy.
" I shall kill our enemies by hundreds and thou-
sands The king shall hear of me, and send for
me to come to his palace, and with his own hand
put the 'Iron Cross' on my breast! "
That would be very grand, no doubt," assented
Liesel, only I would not kill the poor fellows. I
would only frighten them very much, and make
them prisoners."
Nonsense! cried Dick-Kopf, hotly. That
is a girl's notion! I tell you they must be killed!"
And he flourished his crooked stick, and looked so
fierce that Liesel hardly knew him.
Well," she said, with a sigh, I suppose many
must be killed, but it is a pity for their wives and
children."
"That is so," the boy answered, less fiercely;
remembering that her father had fallen in battle.
"I'll tell you what, Liesel," he added, "I will
ask each one 1 capture if he is married, and shall
only kill those who are single."
Liesel heaved a sigh of relief. You are a good-
hearted boy, Dick-Kopf," she said.
Old Brigitta had seemed so comfortable and
cheerful of late that Liesel believed she was getting
well; but one morning on going to her bedside to
wish her, as usual, Guten morgen ("good
morning"), she found the poor old body asleep
in "the sleep which knows no waking."
It was a bitter grief,-this parting from her only
relative,-but thanks to her sweet disposition, the
orphan girl had many friends among rich and
poor. The neighbors gathered around her with
words of comfort, and the school-master took her


LIESEL.


[MARCH,






LIESEL. 347


to his own house to stay until after the funeral.
It was then decided that, as there was no one to
object, and Liesel herself was more than willing,
she should go into the service of the countess.
Having noticed the little girl's handy ways and
pleasant temper, the countess thought best to
train her for the position of lady's maid, and for
this purpose placed her in the hands of Henrietta,
her own maid, who undertook to instruct Liesel in
fine sewing and such other duties as would in
time be required of her.
This sudden change in her mode of life was no
doubt the best thing which could have happened
to the lonely orphan; but it must be confessed that,
kind though every one was to her, there were some
things which Liesel found hard to bear. To the
peasant child, used to a free open-air existence, it
was very tiresome to sit so much of the time bent
over her needle; and the little feet, which had
been accustomed to going bare, except on Sundays
and holidays, felt cramped and miserable in the
shoes they were now required to wear all the time.
Not only was her heart full of sorrow for the dear
grandmother who had taken all the care of her
since her mother died, but she missed also her
life-long friend and playmate Dick-Kopf. She
had seen him but a few times of late, and it seemed
to her that he looked at her with a reproachful
kind of gaze;-" as if," she reflected sadly, "as if
I were becoming proud "
Whenever she looked up from her sewing out
into the beautiful summer, and saw the birds, with
glad cries, winging their way across the blue sky and
plunging into the fleecy clouds, her heart longed
for freedom. She could see the straw-thatched
roofs of the village, and the smoke of the chimneys,
and, with brimming eyes, how from one chimney
only no smoke arose- that of the empty cottage
which had been her home. She could hear the
blacksmith's hammer ringing, and the voices of
the children at play, and there on the little hill-top
beyond the village the windmill's heavy sails were
swinging, and she knew that not far from it Dick-
Kopf must be sitting, watching his geese and per-
haps missing her as much as she did him.
Ah, many a time her eyes were too dim to thread
the needle, and big tears fell upon the little trem-
bling fingers. But Liesel had not only a wise head
for her age, but a stout heart, and she struggled
hard with all these sad thoughts, resolved to do all
that her duty seemed to require; for was not every
one very, very kind to her ?
Most of the visitors at the castle were gone now,
but good old Prince Poniatowsky still remained,
and never passed her by without a pleasant word
or two, although, seeing that the child's mood was
not now a merry one, he joked less than formerly.


It seemed strange to Liesel that so grand a gen-
tleman should stoop to notice her at all; but then,
as all the servants said, he was in no way like the
rest of the grand people.
Liesel saw and heard many things at the castle
which interested and puzzled her, but what puzzled
her most of all was the fact that little Countess
Adelbertawas neither a very good nor a very happy
child. There was hardly an hour in the day when
her shrill crying cculd net be heard, and all the
servants of the household pronounced her,- under
their breath, of course,-" a little vixen." This
seemed very strange to Liesel. It seemed to her
that Adelberta had everything in the world to make
her happy, and no excuse for naughtiness.
It happened one day that Adelberta was not
quite well-just sick enough to have to stay in the
nursery; and all the morning her cries and shrieks
had been almost unceasing. About midday Hen-
rietta came into her own room, where Liesel sat
darning a napkin.
Liesel," said she, looking very much annoyed,
" you are to go to the nursery. The little countess
is crying for you."
"For me ?" exclaimed Liesel, much astonished.
"Yes," answered Henrietta. "Her ladyship
is tired of her stuffed dolls, and wants a live one, I
suppose. Take my advice," she added, as Liesel
rose to go, and keep at a proper distance from
her ladyship, for she is not to be trifled with, that
I can tell you! "
When Liesel reached the nursery, she found the
little countess seated on the floor amid a litter of
books and toys, her pretty, delicate face wearing
its very naughtiest expression. Near her stood her
mother, looking sad and displeased, and in the
background, bristling with anger, was Friulein
Longenbeck, the governess.
Liesel," said the countess, gently, "Adelberta
thinks she would like to play with you for awhile.
I hope it will do her good, and that when I return
she will be ready to say that she is sorry for her
naughty behavior."
She then left the room, followed by the gov-
erness.
Leisel looked about her, at the beautiful pictures,
rich furniture, pretty little bed, and the costly toys
and books upon the floor. How could any child
be otherwise than happy here, she wondered. All
the while, Adelberta was staring at her from be-
neath her tangled curls.
Come and play she said, finally, in a peev-
ish voice.
Liesel came nearer.
"Do you like books?" asked her small lady-
ship, presently, giving the one nearest her feet a
petulant little kick.








Lull S EL. [MARCH,


Oh, yes Do not you, gnddiges Frdulein ?"
answered Liesel.
I hate them said Adelberta, decidedly.
"0 gnddiges Frdulein/" cried Leisel, "not
all books! You surely like picture-books and
story-books !"
"1 like the fairy-books, and that is all!" an-
swered Adelberta. The girls in the books learn
their lessons, and write their exercises, and love
their governesses. I don't learn, and I write badly,
and," with a quick breath, I hate Fraiulein Long-
enbeck!"
She looked so very savage when she said this,
that Liesel could not help smiling, at which the cor-
ners of Adelberta's own mouth curled up funnily.
"We must not hate any one," said Liesel, who,
i being a year or two older, felt it her duty to re-
prove such sentiments, even though uttered by a
little countess ; it is a great sin to hate."
Then I am a great sinner," said Adelberta.
There's French, now," she went on; "was ever
anything more stupid? And I must speak six
French sentiments every day-out of my own
head, you know-or I get no dessert at dinner.
Generally I don't mind, but yesterday there were
to be ices, and I.tried very hard to speak them,
and see !-to-day I have a headache and sore
throat in consequence."
"But you like your music-lessons, of course,"
said Liesel, who had listened gravely.
Least of all!" cried Adelberta, jumping up
and beginning to drum on the table. One, two,
three, four! One, two, three, four!" she repeated,
with so perfect an imitation of Friulein Longen-
beck's manner that Liesel laughed outright.
By this time Adelberta's ill humor had begun to
disappear. She even felt a little ashamed of her-
self, especially as she noticed Liesel's neat braids
and caught a glimpse in the mirror of her own
rough locks. She gave her hair a stroke or two
with her delicate hands and came up to Liesel in
a friendly manner.
"Tell me," she said, "are you not sorry you
came here to live?"
"Oh, no! No, indeed!" said Liesel; but even
then her eyes turned toward the window, where
she could see the tree-tops waving and hear the
birds twittering.
"Then why do you always look so sad?" per-
sisted Adelberta.
Liesel's eyes filled with tears.
"Ah," said the other, with unusual gentleness,
"I know; I too had a grandmother, and she died.
She was very good to me."
There was a little pause, and then the little
countess went to the closet where her toys were
stored, and returned with a lovely doll, saying :


"This is my best doll. She is from Paris, and
her name is Belle. She can talk and cry."
That was her childish way of showing sympathy,
and Liesel began to think that Adelberta was not
so very naughty, after all, as she took the pretty
doll in her hands.
"How beautiful! she exclaimed, holding the
long silken train out at full length. She is like
your good Mamma, the gracious countess !"
"Yes, a little," said Adelberta. "Now I will
show you something else," she added, in a lower
tone; "only you must never tell."
She ran to the closet, and exploring the depths
of a large box, brought to light another doll.
Allow me," she said, with much ceremony, to
present to you Friulein Longenbeck !"
This doll was a poor battered creature whose
beauty had long since disappeared. She was
dressed in a piece from one of the governess's own
dresses, and made up, as nearly as Adelberta's
fingers could imitate it, in the same style. The
few hairs still remaining were arranged in the way
in which that august lady was in the habit of
dressingherown. One arm was bent, and onelong
kid finger raised in a stern, reproving manner.
Liesel gazed at this effigy in speechless amaze-
ment, wishing very much to laugh, but feeling
that she must not encourage Adelberta's naughti-
ness. Fortunately at this moment steps were heard
approaching, the doll was hastily concealed, and
the countess, entering, permitted Liesel to go.
After this she was often sent for to amuse the
little lady, to the horror of Fraiulein Longenbeck,
who, being the daughter of a reduced merchant,
was even more aristocratic in her ideas than the
countess herself.
When' Liesel had been at the castle about a
month and, without even suspecting it, had won
the good opinion of all, something happened to
her so wonderful, so unexpected, that it will read
more like a fairy-tale than a simple narration of
facts Indeed, if I did not know that such things
do happen now and then,-though not so often as
I wish they did,-I should be afraid to put this
part of Liesel's story on paper.
One day, as she sat in Henrietta's room darning
a particularly fine napkin with a particularly fine
needle and floss, and every once in a while casting
a longing glance at the birds plunging headlong
into some white clouds beyond where the trees
were tallest and greenest,-in came Henrietta,
with her face aglow.
"Liesel! she whispered, "you are to go at
once to the countess."
The blood rushed into the little girl's face, and
the tears to her eyes, for her first thought was
that she had displeased her gracious mistress in


LIESEL.


[MARCH,







LIESEL.


some-way. She rose hurriedly and laid her sewing
aside.
"Foolish child! cried the maid, why do you
cry? I tell you it is something very good, and
something--"and then she checked herself.
"Go on, dear little goose!" she cried, giving
Liesel a playful push; and Liesel, relieved to hear
that she was not to be reprimanded, went on
to the door of the countess's salon and knocked
timidly. A sweet voice bade her enter, and she
did so, but felt very much embarrassed to find in
the room, not only the countess herself, but the
count, smiling in his grave, distant way, and
old Prince Poniatowsky, whose wrinkled face was
alive with some secret joy, which he could hardly
restrain. Liesel, finding so many eyes upon her,
could only stand before them, dropping one quaint
little curtsy after another and looking into each
friendly face with her large, innocent eyes.
"Liesel," began the countess, in a tender,
encouraging voice, "our good friend, Prince
Poniatowsky, having seen that you are a good
child and fond of books and music, has taken a
great interest in you. If you are pleased with the
idea, he will take you to his own home, will pro-
vide you with teachers, and, if you are as ambitious
and industrious as we think you will be, you can
become in time a teacher yourself. Perhaps you
would like that better than anything else. What
do you say, Liesel? Would you like to go ?
Liesel had turned first pale and then. red while
the lady was speaking, and now she could only look
wildly from one to another, unable to utter a word.
"Itshall be as you wish, Liesel," said the countess,
taking her cold little hand and speaking verysoftly.
" If you wish to go, go now to the prince and give
him your hand. You need not speak a word."
Pale, trembling, in a kind of dream, Liesel went
over to the old prince and held out her hand, only
half-conscious of the kind words he spoke, and
went away at last just enough awake to remember
that in two days she must go away with him to his
distant home.
It was soon known throughout the castle and
the village that Brigitta's Liesel" was to go
away with the rich, whimsical old prince, "to be
made a fine lady of," and every one rejoiced at her
good fortune. No, not quite every one, for there
were some envious souls in the village (as there
are everywhere), who said spiteful things which
other envious souls took care to repeat to Liesel,
and which grieved her honest little soul. Then
Friulein Longenbeck, moreover, chose pronounce
the prince's beneficence "a dangerous precedent";
but Liesel did not hear this, and would not have
known what it meant if she had; so it did not
matter. She was too busy, and too excited and


349


bewildered, to know whether she was happy or
not. At times she was full of gladness, but at
other times there was a curious sinking at her
heart, which was anything but pleasant; and she
felt this most often when she thought of her old
friend and comrade, Dick-Kopf.
He, poor fellow, was told the news as he sat
alone on the common with his geese, and it was
like a stab through his heart.
Well," he remarked to his feathered com-
panions, after the baker's boy, who had stolen
a moment to run and inform him, had disappeared,
"well, have I not always said it? It is only what
was to be expected But with all his sturdy phi-
losophy, Dick-Kopf found his black bread hard to
swallow that day. Toward the close of the afternoon
some one spoke his name, and there was Liesel, no
longer in servant's garb, but neatly dressed in
mourning, with a nice straw hat on her yellow
hair, and fine shoes on her pretty feet. Her face
was pale and her eyes red with weeping, for she
had been taking leave of old friends and places,
and had just come from the graves of her mother
and her grandparents; but she looked so tall in
her neatly fitting dress, so refined and elegant,
that Dick-Kopf felt really awkward, in spite of
her friendly smile.
He tried, however, to stammer out something
by way of greeting, but the lump in his throat
grew very troublesome, and he turned squarely
around, which would have seemed rude, had not
Liesel seen how the big horn buttons on his back
went creeping up and down, and known by this that
poor Dick-Kopf was sobbing. It was too much
for Liesel. She sat herself down beside him in the
old place and cried heartily with him.
The geese, including those of old Brigitta, came
up and stretched their long necks toward her; and
then, as she took no notice of them, they waddled
away, gobbling noisily, and thinking, no doubt, like
some of her other village friends, that Liesel had
grown proud and haughty.
Did n't I always say so?"' said Dick-Kopf,
swallowing a big sob. "Didn't everybody say
so? "
Oh sobbed Liesel, "I abnost wish it were
n't so I almost wish I were going to stay here! "
"Nonsense cried Dick-Kopf, sturdily, wiping
his eyes on his sleeve ; it is just as it should be.
You were not meant to be a goose-girl or a common
servant. Now you will learn books and music,
and everything, and in time become a great lady,
a great deal handsomer," went on Dick-Kopf,
nodding his head violently, "than any of them!
Yes, yes! It is just right, only-Liesel-don't
you get p-froud, you know, and"-and here he
turned his back again in a suspicious way.






[MARCH,


350


Now it was Liesel's turn to be comforter.
"See here, Dick-Kopf," she said bravely;
" when you are a great soldier, and have won the
' Iron Cross,' you will come and see me, and we will
talk over the old times- the times when we tended
our geese together, and all the rest. And, Dick-
Kopf, you can do something for me."
The boy looked up eagerly.
"Go always on All Souls' Day," she went on
softly, "and lay flowers on my graves for me."
Dick-Kopf gladly promised this, and then they
talked of many things, and finally shook hands;
and Liesel, not once looking back at the boy's sad
little figure leaning against the rock, went back to
the castle, feeling very strange and solemn.


stammer out a farewell speech,-but, alas, he broke
down at the beginning, and turning, laid his head
against the stone wall.
The old gentleman stroked Liesel's hair gently,
and, wise old fellow that he was, let her have her cry
out. That was the best way, no doubt; for a child's
grief is usually short-lived, and there was much
to take up Liesel's attention; after that she be-
came bright and cheerful in a little while.
But my story is growing too long. Let me say,
then, in a few words, that after Liesel had bright-
ened the grim old Castle Poniatowsky for a year or
two with her sweet face, and wakened its echoes
with her lovely voice, the old prince adopted her as
his child, which was what he had intended to do all


7- ~ -. ~ ----
i~sw ?- ^ ^r^ ~?7Lt
L^ :^


" LIESEL WENT OVER TO THE OLD PRINCE AND HELD OUT HER HAND.


'The next day she went away with her new friend
and benefactor. The leave-taking at the castle
was hard enough, but worse was to come. As the
carriage rolled through the village, all the people
came out to call out to her their good-bye wishes.
The little girl sat up very straight beside old Prince
Poniatowsky, but she was very pale, and trembled
in every limb.
All the time, she was wondering where Dick-
Kopf could be; but when they were quite out of
the village, there he was, standing by the roadside
in his Sunday clothes, and with a very large nose-
gay in his hand. He made a brave, friendly face,
threw the bouquet into the carriage, tried to


the while. And Liesel grew up good, and beautiful,
and accomplished, and married a very grand gen-
tleman, and lived in a wonderful palace in an old
German city, where the story of the little peasant
girl is told to this day. I said it would read like a
fairy-tale, and was I not right ?
I wish I could tell you what became of Dick-
Kopf, but we can only hope that his sorrow at
losing his little friend wore away. In course of
time he doubtless grew into a big, gawky, good-
natured fellow, served his king bravely and, having
reached the height of his ambition, is to-day strut-
ting proudly about with a sword at his side, and
the "iron cross" upon his breast.


LIESEL.






1885.] TRULY REPENTANT. 351





ruly epen te-ntd










R emorye o'erloo. hi- o r, the 'Way -..

OLD Nehemiah Nimkins was as thrifty as could be;
He kept a host of chickens that, with worthy energy,
Laid one fine egg apiece each day until their owner grew
To be regarded by his friends as very well-to-do;
But, as he journeyed to the town to sell some eggs one day,
He'went so slowly that remorse o'ertook him on the way
My sense of honor is aroused," he cried, "and now I spurn
The very thought of taking what my poor, dumb creatures earn!
It's downright robbery, I think, to sell the eggs they 've laid;
And I will cheerfully refund the money they have made.
Beyond a small commission, the corn used, and the rent
Of the wretched place in which they live, I '11 give them every cent!
'11 have a skillful carpenter, as quickly as he can,
Construct a house of architecture Gothic or Queen Anne
I '11 furnish it with bric-a-brac and paintings old and rare;
S'11 place e before them daily a generous bill-of-fare;
And if there 's any money left, I '11 have a lawyer fix
My will so I can found a 'Home for Little Orphan Chicks !









-.-. "*"- "---- 1.
-' ,,5
1 -4
"~ ~ ~ 3 i_. .47,
---.~~-3~ .. ,






352


CHAPTER X.

UNCLE GRAY did not suppose there was any
special need of his going out of the house again
that night; for he did not doubt that Kit could
be trusted, after the severe lesson he had received,
to put up the horse and lock the barn-door.
I don't know but it '11 be a good thing it has
happened, on the whole," he said to Aunt Gray;
" for I guess it '11 teach him to have his wits about
him in future."
He was in excellent spirits, pulling on his boots.
But he was wheezing a little; and she urged him
to go to bed again, predicting that he would be
asthmatic to-morrow.
I guess I sha'n't be," he said. I don't feel
like sleep. I want to see how Dandy looks, after
his scrape. I can't help laughing' when I think
on 't! How smart Christopher was! "
He glanced at the table as he passed through
the kitchen.
Might give him a little of that new honey for
his supper," he suggested, taking his hat from its
peg. I should n't wonder if't would taste good,
with his bread and butter."
The small corner of his heart filled by the
nephew glowed with uncommon warmth that
night.
I guess I will," said Aunt Gray, innocently.
The truth is, she was all the while intending
that Kit should have some of that honey, and was
only waiting for her husband to get back to bed
before setting it on the table. Perhaps she
dreaded more his unpleasant remarks at sight of
it than his asthmatic troubles on the morrow. For
the honey represented so much cash; and Uncle
Gray, besides being even more economical than
Aunt Gray (which is saying much), often thought
her inclined to over-indulgence of her nephew.
Might give him just a little," he added, recall-
ing, the moment he had spoken, that genial fault
of hers together with the present high price of
honey.
He even waited to see her bring a little cake
of the pellucid comb in a sauce-dish, before put-
ting on his hat and going out. He considered it
a rather liberal quantity. How he would have
regarded it if he had gone first to the barn and
learned of Kit's last stupendous blunder, it is need-
less to surmise.
He was to find that out soon enough.


F'r instance he exclaimed gleefully, enter-
ing the stable; "if anybody had told me this
morning--"
He had got so far, when suddenly he stopped.
Kit had placed the lantern on the floor, and was
standing beside it,-if such an attitude can be
called standing,-looking so shrunken, so weak,
and woe-begone, that you would almost have said
he had shared the fate of Dandy, and been changed
to another boy by some dreadful hocus-pocus. He
was trying to rally himself when Uncle Gray, after
an amazed glance at the horse, burst forth with:
What what sort of a beast have you got
here? "
I don't know! murmured the dazed victim
of disaster.
Don't know! ejaculated Uncle Gray, in a
swollen and agitated voice, which may be com-
pared to a cat, with tail and fur up at some hor-
rible circumstance. "Where's Dandy?"
"Don't know! faltered the child of misery.
"What do you know?" roared Uncle Gray.
I know I 'm a fool, and that's about all!"
said the abject slave of shame and misfortune.
With lips tightly rolled together, features in a
terrible snarl, and eyes scintillating like small fire-
works on either side of his sallow, hooked nose,
Uncle Gray took up the lantern, and looked the
strange horse over from forelock to fetlocks, from
hock to withers. Then he set the lantern down again
without a word and took two or three strides to and
fro; Kit all the while shriveling among the pendent
harnesses, and the horse tranquilly munching hay
with stolid equine unconsciousness of the little
drama in which he was so important a figure.
After a brief silence, broken by the regular
champing sound in the manger and irregular
chafing and fuming of Uncle Gray, that worthy
man, suppressing the inward turmoil to which no
words could do justice, demanded sharply:
Where 'd you git that boss? "
Over at the cattle-show," Kit answered meekly.
But you said you found Dandy "
"I did find him I left him a minute to get
a lunch, and went back to take him,- I had n't a
doubt that I had the same horse,- and now I 've
got him home, he 's another horse altogether "
"Another hoss altogether Uncle Gray re-
peated, trembling with the tempest he could hardly
contain. I should say he was I don't believe
you found Dandy, at all! "


HIS ONE FAULT.




HIS ONE FAULT.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


[MARCH,






HIS ONE FAULT. 353


"Yes, I did; though I don't wonder you think"
so," said Kit. But it was dark under the shed,
- and Cash Branlow tumbled me on his back in
such a hurry,- and I never was on Dandy's back
but twice,- and how could I tell another horse
from him then, in the evening ? Though it seemed
to me there was something wrong about him, two
or three times."
Something wrong about him !" echoed Uncle
Gray. "This hoss is no more like Dandy than I'm
like Isaiah the Prophet! He's about the same


wonder where his home is! Do you know what
you 've done, boy? "
Poor Kit answered only by his looks, which
showed plainly enough his consciousness of the
enormity of his offense.
"You 've stolen a hoss; that's what you 've
done!" said Uncle Gray. You've giv'n up
Dandy, after finding' him,-if it's true you did find
him, which I very much doubt,-and run off
another man's hoss in his place. What's a-goin
to be done about it -have ye any idee ? "


"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE, BOY?"


size as Dandy, and something' nigh the same color,
and that 's about all. He carries his head in a
different way."
"I noticed that, when I got off his back," said
Kit. I could n't tell just how he did carry his
head when I was riding him."
He's a trimmer-built hoss," continued Uncle
'Gray. "Longer-legged, a great sight! Don't
you see ?"
Yes, I see now "
"And a younger hoss, I should say; and he
ought to be a better roadster."
I was surprised," said Kit, at his traveling
off so well after his day's work. But I supposed
it was because he was going home."
"Goin' home!" exclaimed Uncle Gray. "I
VOL. XII.--23.


I wish I had!" murmured the wretched
Christopher.
Wish ye had cried Uncle Gray. If you
don't beat all the- "
Words failing him to express his sense of the
situation, he ended with a wrathful sniff.
I don't see as anything can be done about it
to-night," said he; "and we may as well lock up
and go into the house. Must be nigh on to mid-
night, by this time. Smart boy, you be, keeping'
us all awake till this time o' night, just to see how
big a blunder a boy of your age and inches can
possibly commit! I knew before, you were the
beatermost dunderpate in all creation What shall
I say now ? "
Say anything you please," replied Christopher,






HIS ONE FAULT.


his heart having sunk until it reached the very
rock-bed of self-abasement and despair. "You
can't blame me any more than I blame myself."
His utter submissiveness seemed slightly to
mollify the uncle, whom anything like excuses or
prevarications would have but served to exasperate
still more.
Wal, wal! let's go in. Nothing' can be done
till to-morrow; then we '11 see' how your amazin'
stupidity can be remedied, if there 's any remedy
for't, at all."
Uncle Gray held up the lantern, and scrutinized
the strange animal again, before parting with him
for the night.
"He's a better hoss than Dandy; a younger
and more valuable boss. I should n't object to the
trade if't was an honest one. But to go and steal
another man's beast because one of our own 's
been stolen, is a kind of irreggelarity that a law-
and-order-community 's not likely to tolerate."
I should suppose so said Kit, finding a cer-
tain strength in the very depth of humbleness he
had sounded; for in that depth was truth, the
source of all moral strength. I don't tolerate it
myself; as I'11 show you to-morrow."
You '11 show said Uncle Gray, contemptu-
ously. What '11 you do ?"
I don't know just what," replied Kit. But
I'll let folks know that if I am a thief, I am ap
unwilling thief; and that if I 've stolen a horse,
I did n't mean it for stealing. I can do that, at
least."
"Come, come!" Uncle Gray turned to go.
"No use standing' here and talking of what you 'll
show, and how you '11 let folks know. You 've got
yourself and us into an unconscionable scrape,
and I don't see how we're a-goin' to git out on 't;
though may be you do, you're so bright 1 Let's
go in and tell your aunt,'and see how proud she '11
be of her smart nephew "
He locked up the barn with one hand, while he
held the lantern with the other; poor Kit feeling
that he was unworthy to offer the least assistance.
Aunt Gray, on learning the net result of Kit's
arduous all-day expedition, was quite as much
astonished as that excellent man, her husband, had
been. But she was more inclined to take her
nephew's part; and she was the first to offer a prob-
able explanation of his most extraordinary mistake.
It 's all a trick of that miserable, mean,
Cassius Branlow," she declared. "He's equal to
any wickedness, and I 'm sorry enough, Chris-
topher, that you had anything to do with him."
"So am I!"cried Uncle Gray. "And I'm
astonished, I 'm astonished, boy, that you should
have trusted him for a moment !"
Kit, worn and haggard, sitting at table, trying


to eat his supper, did not see fit to remind his.
uncle of some very different observations he had
heard a little while before on the same subject,
when it was thought Dandy had been secured
partly through Mr. Branlow's management.
"And it's my opinion," cried Aunt Gray, nod-
ding her head to give emphasis to her words, as.
she stood, portly and grim, at the end of the
table,-" it 's my positive opinion that Cash Bran-
low is the thief! "
"No doubt on 't! exclaimed Uncle Gray.
" How could you-how could you for an instant
believe he meant any good to you, with his advice.
and help a notorious scamp like him "
And, standing at the other end of the table, he
scowled his blackest disapprobation upon the
culprit actually at that moment tasting the pre-
cious honey !
Unconsciously tasting, it must be said. Kit
knew no more that honey was in his spoon and
that the spoon went to his mouth than if he had
been an automaton. He was thinking; and as he
thought, the blood rushed to his cheeks and brow.
For he remembered just then how he had stood
looking squarely into Branlow's face and described
the thief to him,--sallow complexion, smooth
face, suit of dark, checked goods, narrow-brimmed
straw hat, medium height,-without noticing
that Branlow's own appearance corresponded,
item for item, with the description, which he
checked off, with so innocent an air, on his
fingers !

CHAPTER XI.

WE have already heard how Mr. Cassius Bran-
low, when weary of the work-shop, had sometimes.
taken to the road as a traveling tinker. But he
was never long satisfied even with that light and
varied occupation; for though the experiences it
yielded were large, the revenues were small; and
it was a necessity of his restless nature that he
must not only see the world, but also be well fed
and entertained.
Hence the habit he had fallen into of supplement-
ing his kettle-mending and soldering of tin-pans
with a little industry of a less praiseworthy sort.
If he stopped the leak in your boiler, you were
apt to find that he had made a more serious leak
in your household economies by pocketing a silver
fork or a tea-bell. Discovering your losses after
he was gone, you resolved to look out for him
when he should come that way again; but he did
not soon come that way-again. The country is,
large, and Mr. C. Branlow distributed his favors
over a large area of its territory. He was traveling
over familiar ground when he chanced upon Uncle


354


MARCHH.






HIS ONE FAULT.


Gray's unlocked stable. It was unaccustomed
booty he got there; and though he knew of places
where he could dispose of odd household articles
to advantage, he was not an adept in the ways of
converting horses into money.
He congratulated himself, however, on having
mastered a new and important branch of his craft,
when he found at the cattle-show a broad-backed
farmer who agreed to purchase the stolen Dandy
for seventy dollars. But the buyer had not the
money in pocket, and must go out and raise it by
borrowing, or collecting bills. He had come to
the fair in an open buggy, and he drove off in it,
promising to return at sunset, or a little later,
when he would pay the money, and receive the
horse from Branlow.
That worthy might have accompanied him, but
he did not do so, for two or three reasons; he was
tired of riding, for one thing; for another, he did
not care to be showing his stolen beast about town
unnecessarily; last, if not least, he was by no
means sure his man would raise the needful money,
and while waiting for him he might see a chance
to sell Dandy to somebody else, perhaps for a
larger sum.
He had not been able to effect a second bargain;
and falling back upon the first, he was amusing
himself, in the absence of his customer, by trying
his luck with the ball and peg, when accosted by
his old acquaintance, Kit.
This made an embarrassing situation for Bran-
low. With the stolen horse, the boy in.search of
him, and the purchaser who might return at any
moment to claim him, the rogue found himself con-
fronted by such a problem as the man in the riddle
had to solve, with his fox and goose and corn.
But he was equal to it.
His first movement was to divert Kit's at-
tention from the cattle-pens, and at the same
time separate himself from him, so as to be
free to play with his other victim, in case of his re-
appearance. He might possibly complete his
trade at the shed, secure his money, and get away
in the crowd, leaving the two claimants of the
horse to meet afterwards. But Kit's discovery of
Dandy spoilt that game.
Then for a minute or two Branlow gave up the
horse as lost, and thought only of his own escape
from suspicion. To insure that, it was necessary to
get Kit and Dandy out of the way as quickly as pos-
sible, before the broad-backed farmer's return. It
was an after-thought, to take advantage of the
gathering darkness, the position of the sheds, and
Kit's youth and inexperience, in order to hustle
him off at last in great haste with the wronghorse.
In playing that trick, Mr. Branlow was aware
of running a risk; but he was accustomed to risks.


If the purchaser of Dandy or the owner of the
other animal had come up at this critical moment,
the trick would have failed, with some danger to
the player. But they kept away, and it succeeded.
Simply enough. There was a row of pens all
very much alike, with horses in four or five of them.
In the pen next to Dandy's, on the right, was a
horse so nearly like him that Branlow himself had
at one time been misled by the resemblance, and
had offered to sell him to a stranger. It was this
little mistake of his own that suggested to his
cunning mind the great blunder which he finally
caused Kit to commit.
The broad-backed farmer, in trying the paces of
the horse he was buying, had left his saddle and
bridle hanging on the boards dividing that pen from
the next. The top bar leading into Dandy's shed
had been let down by Kit himself; but no sooner
had he started for the refreshment-stands than it
was put up again by Branlow, as he stepped into
the pen. Then, when Kit returned with his
crackers and pie, he found the bars of the next
shed down, and the saddle and bridle on the wrong
horse, which he mounted and rode off, unsuspic-
iously, as we have seen.
If the maneuver had failed, Branlow would have
been at no loss to explain away his own part in it.
"What!" he would have exclaimed, "have I
been such an idiot as to put your saddle on another
man's horse ?" The words were ready at his lips,
but Kit unluckily gave him no occasion to use
them.
"Oh, yes, indeed! I '11 spot the thief! I
shall be sure to know him! he chuckled, rub-
bing his fingers gleefully, as he saw Kit disappear
under the great ox-yoke of the entrance without
having detected the quickly planned exchange.
"Narrow-brimmed straw hat, medium height -
Great Scott! what a joke "
A joke truly, from his point of view: Dandy
left in the shed, and the thief in sole possession !
He was well aware, however, that his game was
not yet completely won. On the breaking up of
the crowd at the race-course, he saw a number of
persons hastening toward him across the fair-
ground.
Here comes the owner of the horse that my
young friend has ridden off," said Branlow to
himself. But instead of guiltily trying to avoid
them, he advanced with the most perfect assur-
ance to meet the foremost of the comers.
Did you notice anybody going out from here,
with a saddled horse?" he asked, assuming a
countenance of great concern.
They had not noticed any one particularly, they
said, to his apparent disappointment and immense
secret delight.


355






HIS ONE FAULT.


Or have you seen anything of a stray saddle
and bridle ? he inquired. I left mine hanging
on the side of the pen, by my horse here, and
they 're gone A horse that was in the next pen
is gone, too; and I 'm afraid the owner made free
with my property."
The persons he addressed were in such haste to
hitch up their own horses and start for home that
they gave little heed to his story, until one called
out, from the let-down bars of the vacant shed:
Boys our horse is gone "
Then followed excited ejaculations, and a brisk
running to and fro to examine adjacent sheds.
Those who found their animals and other property
safe, were still intent on getting off; but there
were three stout boys who took a sudden and
lively interest in what Branlow had to say.


CHAPTER XII.

THEY were the Benting boys, of Duckford;
Lon and Tom and Charley. They had driven over,
seven miles, with their younger sister, Elsie, to
visit the county fair; and had been so fascinated
by the races, in which a promising colt from a
neighbor's farm was winning his first honors,
that they were unexpectedly late in starting for
home.
It was their horse that was missing, and the
eagerness with which they turned to Branlow, now
that their own interests appeared involved in the
case they had no time to consider before, would
have made a cynic smile.
Branlow would have smiled -he would have
laughed maliciously-but for the necessity of
keeping a sober face. Good fellows they were, no
doubt; yet how little they cared for his lost saddle
and bridle until they learned whose horse had gone
with them.
They had been chatting in low, hurried tones of
the triumphs of their friend's colt, and of the late-
ness of their start,- wondering what the folks
at home would think, and who would milk the
cows in their absence,-when that startling dis-
covery put everything else out of their boyish
heads.
The girl had stopped at the wagon, in which lay
the loosely flung harness; but now she, too, ad-
vanced, in no little consternation, to the pens where
Tom and Charley were questioning Branlow.
How long had you been here when we came ? "
they demanded.
"Just long enough to find my saddle and
bridle missing; and Cassius showed where they
had hung. It 's a wonder the fellow did n't take
my horse ; lucky for me he preferred yours "


"Why don't you harness this horse to our
wagon and start after him as soon as you can ? "
Elsie said to her brothers, who proposed the plan
to Branlow.
Go along with us," said Tom; and get your
saddle when we get back our horse."
For the real thief to set off with these honest
young men, driving the horse that had really been
stolen, in pursuit of Kit, who was no thief at all,
and the horse he had taken by mistake, struck
Cassius as a funny arrangement. But it was one
he might find growing serious, in case Kit should
be overhauled.
I might do it," he said, if this horse was
mine."
You called him yours," said Tom.
So I did; and I 'm responsible for him. I sold
him to a man this afternoon, and he went off to
get the money to pay for him. He was to meet
me again over by the refreshment-tent; but I got
tired of waiting, and great Scott Branlow
suddenly burst forth, apparently in vexed surprise.
" Have I been duped ? "
How duped ? Tom Benting asked.
"I believe he's the rogue! the man who
wanted to buy my horse That was only a pre-
tense; he was just looking for a chance to steal
one !"
The unsophisticated Cassius whipped his trou-
sers with the backs of his fingers, and scowled with
prodigious self-disgust.
Somebody hang me on a tree, somewhere,
to ripen," he exclaimed; I am so green! "
As nobody volunteered to do him that favor, he
continued, in his immature and verdant state, to
rail upon other people's roguery and his own
transparent innocence.
The boys now again urged the plan they had
proposed; to which it seemed that he could have
no longer any objection, if the man he awaited
was indeed a cheat. But Cassius held off.
"If mine was a fast horse, and we knew just
which way the fellow had gone, it might pay," he
said. "But that was an old saddle, not worth
taking much trouble to find, anyhow; and to start
off at this time of day, to hunt you don't know
where, for you don't know whom--I don't quite
fancy it! "
Meanwhile, the oldest of the boys had been
making inquiries for the lost horse at the entrance;
and he now came back, declaring that he believed
he had heard from him.
"A little fellow in a white cap rode out on just
such a horse, not ten minutes ago. We must
follow him up "
How can we? asked Charley.
On foot, if no other way," said Lon, resolutely.


356


[MARCH,






HIS ONE FAULT.


" Elsie I 've found a chance for you to ride with
the Rawdons. Get home as soon as you can, and
tell the folks what has happened, so they need
n't be surprised if they don't see us before mid-
night."
He was a sturdy, energetic youth, and his deter-
mined voice and manner put new life into the
younger boys. They told him of their plan of
using Branlow's horse, and Branlow's objection
to it.
You don't care for your bridle and saddle ?"
said he to that reluctant young man; nor very


unless he could raise some, he did not see just
what he was to do with himself and Dandy for the
night.
"Well, as you say; anything to accommo-
date !" he finally replied to Lon's proposal. And
the harness went on Dandy's back in a hurry.
Tom was putting Elsie into their neighbor
Rawdon's wagon, when she said to him:
"I hope you will find General! But I don't
believe in that man very much; do you? "
He seems a clever sort of fellow," Tom replied.
Though hardly sixteen years old, she was much


9
--
i~?p
~---- ---' i


"BRANLOW LEAPED TO THE GROUND AND CALLED OUT: 'HERE'S MY MAN, AFTER ALL!"' (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


much for helping other folks in trouble, I sup-
pose."
Oh, yes!" said Branlow, smiling blandly.
" Helping folks in trouble is one of my weaknesses."
Well, then," said Lon. accommodate us!
If we don't get your saddle and bridle for you, I'11
engage to pay you for your trouble, and give you
supper and lodging, in any case. What do you
say? Yes or no We 've no time to lose "
Cassius was beginning to look upon this as a
promising adventure,-trusting his ready wit to
do more to hinder than to help the pursuit of Kit,
if he joined in it, and to get himself out of diffi-
culty, if it should prove too successful. Here
might also be an opening for another sale of
Dandy, if the one already arranged had failed, as
he feared.
Moreover, he was in need of ready money, and,


wiser than her big brothers, in some respects.
She had watched Branlow closely, and detected in
his plausible speech a tone of insincerity.
"There's something about him I don't like,"
she said. I'm afraid he is deceiving you."
He can't deceive us very badly," Tom answered
confidently. "Three to one "
"That is true; but look out for him! were
Elsie's parting words, as she rode off with the
Rawdons.
How much cause the brothers might have had
to remember her warning, if their plan had been
carried out, cannot be told; for it was defeated by
a circumstance as vexatious to themselves as it
was agreeable to Branlow.
Dandy was harnessed to the Benting wagon, and
Branlow had mounted to the front seat with Lon,
while Tom and Charley sat behind. They were






"CAT NANCY'S" FOLKS.


driving out of the almost deserted fair-ground into
the evening atmosphere of dew and dust that hung
low over the skirts of the village, Lon looking
eagerly for a policeman he had left to learn the
direction the little rider in the white cap had taken,
while Branlow argued that the man who had the
Benting horse wore a black hat, and was by no
means little; when all at once he leaped to the
ground and called out:
"I 'm wrong Here's my man, after all! "
It was indeed the purchaser of Dandy, coming
to keep his agreement.
"I had given you up," said Cassius, as they
met. "Where have you been all this time ?"
I had more trouble getting' the money than I
expected; but I have it now," said the man, rein-
ing up in his buggy. Not too late, I hope!"
looking sharply at the harnessed horse.
"No; a bargain's a bargain," said Branlow,
with more satisfaction than he dared to show.
"I can give you possession on the spot."
The Benting boys explained their situation, and
begged permission to drive the horse, at least
until they could hire another. But the buyer of
Dandy was by no means so obliging a person as
Branlow. He was a square-jawed, broad-shoul-
dered, short-necked man, with a short, grizzled
beard, and a way of saying, No !" and I can't !"
which proved extremely discouraging to the Bent-


ings. "I'm in a.hurry to get home," he said.
" I don't care for the saddle; I would n't buy it,
and I wont go a rod out of my way for it. Sorry
to interfere with your plans, gentlemen; but that
horse belongs to me, and your harness must come
off."
If you say so," replied Lon, seeing the sort of
man they had to deal with, off it comes "
Dandy was stripped immediately, and furnished
with a rope halter, by which he was to be led at
the end of the buggy, the harness being thrown
again into the Benting wagon, and the wagon left
standing helplessly beside the street.
This is a pretty predicament for us, boys! "
Lon exclaimed, with much repressed wrath. But
there was no help for it; the unaccommodating
man must have his way.
"I'm very sorry it has happened so," remarked
the inwardly rejoicing Cassius. "I'd stay and
help you; but I must go with this man over to the
store yonder, and get my money, and give him a
bill of sale."
Leaving the brothers to get out of their difficulty
as best they could, he mounted the buggy beside
the broad-shouldered driver, calling back cheer-
fully as he pulled Dandy by the halter and rode
away:
It must be .the little chap in the white cap that
took your horse, after all "


(To be continued.)


"CAT NANCY'S" FOLKS.

BY LOUISE STOCKTON.


MARGERY TAYLOR was fond of adventure, and
was continually playing she was lost in the woods,
or shipwrecked, or traveling across the snow, or
climbing mountains. Sometimes she was an In-
dian, and sometimes a king.
"I wish," said her mother, that -just for a
change, you know -you would pretend to be my
helpful little girl. That would be new and
interesting."
"I always help when you ask me," replied
Margery.
"But you never offer," her mother replied, and
I shall never think you are really and truly oblig-
ing until you offer to help."
"You don't want me to be obliging to every
one, do you, Mamma? "
Certainly I do."


"Not to 'Cat Nancy ? "
"Why not? I am sure she needs help. She is
a very poor and forlorn old woman."
"Well, I will try," replied Margery.
And so that very afternoon, with her little basket
in her hand, she walked over to Cat Nancy's"
house.
This old woman was noted for two things: she
never washed her face, and she had forty cats.
She supported them all by begging, and she was
very particular in having exactly forty in number.
If any of the forty wandered off, she put on her
bonnet, took a piece of fish in her pocket, and
went out to coax in some more; if the cat ranks
were full, she would not have accepted even a
Persian puss with a tail like a squirrel, or a Manx
with none at all.


[(MARCH,





"CAT NANCY'S" FOLKS.


She lived in a house with two rooms in it, and
,everything about it looked lonely and untidy.
Margery stood at the broken gate for a moment,
and listened.
All was quiet.
Then she went up to the door and knocked.
A cat sneezed.
It might have been Nancy, but Margery felt sure
it was a cat.
Suddenly the old woman opened the door.
Good-afternoon," said Margery. I came to
*see if I could do anything for you."
Cat Nancy ".looked at the child with surprise.
Do anything for me ? she repeated.
"Yes," said Margery. "Mamma thinks I ought
to be obliging to you."
Your ma is a good woman," said Cat Nan-
.cy," approvingly, "and she saves her pieces with
:some sense, and I never have to sort them over to
pick the pickles out. That 's about the only thing
my folks wont eat."
"Well," repeated Margery, I would like to do
:something for you."
The old woman hesitated a moment; then she
:said:
Very well. Come in."
The room was small and unswept, but the sun
-shone brightly in upon it, and in the window stood
,a scarlet geranium in full bloom.
Cats? Why it seemed to Margery that there
must be a hundred there. The room was full of
them. They lay curled up around the stove, on
'the chairs, on the wooden settee. But they were
.all very quiet.
"Don't they fight?" asked Margery.
Sometimes; but I feed 'em well, and keep 'em
warm, and that takes the temper out of them."
Then she took down her bonnet from the nail.
"Now," she said, I have some business to
.attend to, and you can stay and keep the mush
from burning."
As she said this, she took a piece of salt mack-
erel out of a covered stone crock, and put it in her
'pocket.
"If they worry you," she said, pushing away
a half dozen cats who immediately crowded around
her, "take down that whip from the shelf, or
throw a piece of this fish into the corner. They '11
leave you alone quickly enough then. But you
need n't be afraid. All the new ones are up-
stairs. "
And then she went away.

Margery put her little.basket down on the table
'by the crock, and began to stir the mush on the
stove. The pot was large, the paddle was heavy,
.and Margery had to stand on her toes, so she soon


began to be tired and stopped to rest, but the cats
opened their fiery eyes and stared at her so fiercely
that they frightened her.
Oh, I wont let it burn she cried, and began
to stir again with vigor, but she soon went slower
and slower, and to amuse herself, she thought she
would count the cats. At first this seemed easy,
but some of them grew restless, and jumped about,
and this confused her so that more than once she
had to begin over again. Finally, she decided
that there were twenty-eight cats there, and then
she wanted to know how many were upstairs, so
she tried to deduct twenty-eight from forty; but as
she could not do this without the help of her fingers
to count upon, she made a guess, and decided
that twenty-eight from forty left twenty!
Just then a door which shut off the stairs was
gently pushed ajar, and a black paw appeared. It
opened wider and wider, and into the room shot a
black cat, and, after her, gray ones, white ones,
yellow ones; big and little, in they came, pell-mell,
all in a hurry.
Up jumped the down-stairs cats Their backs
went up, their tails grew large, and angrily lashed
their sides. The upstairs cats stood still, and their
backs went up, and their tails grew large, and rage
and defiance lighted every eye !
Then there was a loud war-cry, and with one im-
pulse the whole troop madly rushed at each other,
and poor little Margery dropped her mush-stick,
and ran into the corner.
Who ever saw forty cats fighting? The din, the
cries, the flashing eyes were horrible, and Margery,
poor child, felt that she must stop the fray! She did
not dare to use the whip, but she made one dash,
she reached the crock, and pulled out a fish, and
flung it as far as she could. It acted like magic
on the cats; they rushed for it, they fought over it.
With frantic haste she emptied the jar, and then she
picked up her basket and fled. She did not notice
that she had left the door open; all she cared for was
to get away. She held her hat on with one hand,
clutched her basket in the other, and ran like a deer.
And she had need to hurry Suddenly she heard
a noise behind her, and turning her head, she
beheld all the cats in full chase !
But I wont go back! she screamed, and she
set her teeth together and ran faster. She did not
care whether the mush boiled or burned.
The cats gained on her. They surrounded her,
they bounded, they cried, but Margery screamed,
"No! No! and ran on. And now she saw her
mother's house, she reached the gate, she dashed in,
she flew through the door, and into her mother's
arms, and all the cats ran after her !
Her mother screamed; the cook ran in, and she
screamed; the gardener came in, and he stood


359






"CAT NANCY S" FOLKS.


-till in amazement. Then Mrs. Taylor picked up
Margery, and ran upstairs, and into her. own
room, and locked the door, and fell into a chair,
and cried, and laughed, while Margery, all tears,
tried to tell her story.
"But," suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Taylor, "do
put that basket down. What in the world have
you in it ? "
It was a cod-fish! A salted cod-fish. And the
brine was all over Margery's dress, and the smell
of it filled the room !
It must have been dropped into the basket by
Margery in her haste to feed the cats.


home; she had found the door open, her "folks"
all gone, the mush burning, and she at once
marched off to Mrs. Taylor's to "see about it."
Talk? Why she made more noise than all her
cats, and she declared Margery had let all her
"folks" out on purpose. The cook told her she
ought to be ashamed of herself for having left a
little girl in a house with forty cats, and to this
"Cat Nancy" replied she left only thirty-nine.
The fortieth was in her basket that very moment.
She had gone out to get it.
But the old woman was mistaken about the
locality of this last cat. It was not in her basket


"SHE BEHELD ALL THE CATS IN FULL CHASE."


"Why, Mamma," she cried, "perhaps they
smelled it Perhaps that's what they ran after "
Smelled it! repeated her mother in tones of
disgust; "why, my child, the very stones must have
smelled it!"
By this time the cats had been driven out of
the house, and in the midst of the confusion,
" Cat Nancy herself appeared. She had returned


at all, but was fighting "Cat Nancy's folks" in
Mr. Taylor's orchard.
And it was Margery's own cat! As for the
thirty-nine, they went everywhere, and they wor-
ried all the housekeepers, and everybody begged
"Cat Nancy" to take them home. But she said
she did not care for cats any more; she was going
to keep canary-birds.


360


[MARCH,





THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.



THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD:

BY LIEUT. FREDERICK SCHWATKA.


AWAY up near the North Pole, in that very cold-
est portion of the earth's surface known as the
Arctic Regions; where the sun can never get very
high above the horizon, although for a part of the
year it does shine all day and nearly all night; where
for the rest of the year it scarcely shines at all, and
where, therefore, the climate is dreary, cold, and
cheerless the whole year round, there live a great
many people--men and women, boys and girls, and
little bits of babies. And, though to us their coun-
try seems about the most dismal part of the world
it is possible to find, yet they really are the most
happy, cheerful, and merry people on the globe,
hardly thinking of the morrow, and spending the
present as pleasantly as possible.
These cheerful people, in their cheerless coun-
try of ice and snow, must, like all of us, at an early
time of their life have been babies, and to describe
these Arctic babies is the main object of this paper,
-to tell the boys and girls what kind of toys and
pleasures and picnics and all sorts of fun may be
had where you would hardly think any could be
had at all; also, some of the discomforts of living
in this most uncomfortable country.
Right near the pole, where day and night are five
or six months long, and where it is so very, very
cold, none of these people live, as there are no
animals for them to kill and live upon; but around
about the outer edge of this region,- that is, in the
Arctic circle, and sometimes far back along the
sea-coast, the greater part of them are to be found.
All over Arctic America, as you will see it in
your geography, these people are of one kind,
speaking nearly the same language, and very
much alike in all other respects. They are
called the Eskimo; or, as the name is sometimes
spelled, Esquimaux. All over Arctic Europe and
Asia (looking again at your geography), there are
scattered many tribes of these people, speaking
different languages, and differing in many other
respects.
As I lived for a time among the former, the
Eskimo, my descriptions will apply only to that
nation, and only to those parts which I visited;
for when you looked at your geography, if you
did so carefully, you must have seen that the
Arctic part of North America was an immense
tract of land reaching from the Atlantic to the
Pacific, across the widest part of America, and
that it would take a single traveler almost a long
life-time to see all the Eskimo and study carefully


their homes, habits, and customs. I did not
merely live in a ship or a tent or house of my
own alongside the tents and huts of the natives,
and from there occasionally visit them; but I,
with my little party of three other white men,
lived for two years in Eskimo tents and huts, so
that we made these savages' homes our own.
After a while, these Eskimo began to consider
us a part of their own tribe, gave us Eskimo names,
by which we were known among the tribe, in-
vited us to participate in their games and amuse-
ments, and in cases of direst want, when their
superstitions drove them to their singular rites
and ceremonies to avert the threatened dangers,
they even asked us to join in using our mysterious
influence. We four white men did not live in the
same snow-hut all the time, but for many months
were living apart from each other in the differ-
ent snow houses of the natives themselves, and
this did much to make the natives feel kindly
toward us. We made sledge journeys among
them away from our home for many months, tak-
ing their best hunters with us, and found many
other natives who had never before seen any white
men; and when there seemed to be any danger
from the wily tricks and stratagems of these wilder
savages, the members of the tribe with which we
lived would, as far as they could, tell us all about
it and consult with us as to defense, just as if we
were their brothers, and not white men, wholly
different from them, while the ones they were thus
plotting against were Eskimo, like themselves.
Their little children, too, played with us and
around us, just as if our faces were a few shades
darker and we were truly their own kind; and as
it is of them you naturally desire to hear, you can
see that we were in a position to find out by long
experience what can be told you about them.
As soon as little Boreas (as we shall call the
Eskimo baby) is born, and indeed until he is
able to walk, he is always to be found on his
mother's back when she is out-of-doors or making
visits to other houses. All of the Eskimo's clothes
are made of reindeer skins, so nicely dressed that
they are as soft and limber as velvet and warmer
than any clothes you have ever seen anywhere,
even than the nice, warm sealskin sacques and
muffs that American ladies wear in winter. They
have two suits of this reindeer clothing, completely
covering them: the inner suit with the reindeer's
fur turned toward the body, and the outer one







362 THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD. [MARCH,


with the hair outside like a sealskin sacque. The
coats have hoods sewed tightly on their collars, so
that when they are put on, only the eyes, nose,
and mouth are exposed to the cold.
When Boreas's mother miakes- the hood for her
reindeer suit, she stretches it into a long sack
or bag, that hangs down behind and is supported
by her shoulders, and this bag of reindeer's skin
is little Boreas's cradle and home, where he lives
until he knows how to walk, when he gets his own
first suit of clothing. When Boreas gets very
cold, as when he is out-of-doors in an Arctic win-
ter's day with the bitter, cold wind blowing,-when
he gets so very cold that he commences crying
about it,--his mother will take him out of the
bag and put him on her back under both her
-coats, where he will be held by a lot of sealskin
strings passing back and forth under him and
around his mother's shoulders over her dress; and
there he will be very warm, directly against her
body and under her two fur coats, besides the
four thicknesses of the hood wherein he was
riding before.
This, as I have already said, is while little Boreas
is out-of-doors or his mother is making a social
visit. When at his own home, in order not to
trouble his mother while she is sewing or cooking








A JA
':,,









1,- .' -



LITTLE BOREAS AND HIS MOTHER.

-or doing such other work, the little baby is allowed
to roll around almost without clothing, among the
reindeer skins that make the bed, where it amuses
itself with anything it can lay its hands on, from
a hatchet to a snow-stick. This stick is much like
a policeman's club, and is used for knocking snow
off of the reindeer clothes; for when the Eskimo
come indoors, they all take off their outside suit


and beat it with this stick, to rid it of the snow
that covers them.
You doubtless think little Boreas should have a
nice time rolling around to his heart's content on

A/
7, ,


AN ESKIMO LAMP.

the soft, warm reindeer skins; but when I tell you
more about his little home, you may not then think
so. It is so cold in the Arctic country in the
winter that no timber can grow at all, just as it
never grows on the cold summits of the very
high snow-covered mountains. Sometimes the
Eskimo, by trading with the whale-ships, get
wood enough to make the sledges or the spear-
handles with which they kill seal and walrus, but
not enough to build houses. Sometimes they
pick up a little on the bleak sea-beach, where the
ocean currents have brought it for many hundreds
of miles from warmer climates; but they have no
tools, and they do not know how to cut the wood
into boards if they had the tools. Never having
seen any timber growing as in our woods and
forests, they.have to make guesses where it comes
from. One tribe I met thought that the logs they
occasionally found, grew at the bottom of the sea,
and when the tree reached nearly to the surface
of the water, its top became caught and frozen in
the thick ice, and in the summer, when the ice
broke up, the tree was pulled up by the roots and
floated to the nearest shore.
Now, as little Boreas's father has neither wood
nor mortar to use on the stones, he is rather at a
loss, you think, for building material. But, no.
He takes the very last thing you would think of
choosing to make a house from in a cold winter.
That is, he builds his winter home of snow.
But wont the snow melt and the house tumble
in ?" you will ask. Of course it will, if you get
it warmer than just the coldness at which water
freezes ; but during the greater part of the year it
is so cold that the snow will not melt, even when
the Eskimo burn fires in their stone lamps inside
these snow houses; so by closely regulating the
amount of the fire, they can just keep the snow
from melting. Their stone lamps look like large
clam-shells, the shell holding the oil, and the flame
being built along the straight shallow edge, while
the wicking is the moss they gather from the


362


THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


[MARCH,






1885.] THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 303


rocks. In short, it must always be cold enough in When the water commences dropping, the
their home to freeze, mother will often take a snow-ball from the floor,
So you can see that little Boreas can not have where it is colder than freezing, and stick it against
such a very nice time, and you can't see how the point where the water is dripping. There it
in the world he can be almost naked nearly all freezes fast and soaks up the water just like a
day long when it is so cold. But such is the fact. sponge until it becomes full; and then she
Think of taking the baby of your house out for a removes it and puts on another, as soon as it com-
walk or a ride in the park when the leaves have mences to drip again. Sometimes she will forget to
all fallen, the ground covered with snow, and the remove it, and when it gets soaked and heavy










-,
:- \\ -f -- -
\. ..,." / _,.k .'- ..


INSIDE THE IGLOO.

with water and warm enough to lose its freezing
hold, down it comes perhaps right on Boreas's
bare back, where it flattens out like a slushy pan-
cake,- or into his face, as it once served me.
For one of these snow-balls about the size of my
fist fell plump into a tin cup full of soup just as I
was about drinking from it, and splashed half of the
soup in my face. Once or twice I have seen these
slushy snow-balls fall down the back of a person
sitting upon the bed; and when the cold slush
gets in between the skin and the reindeer coat,
- well, you can easily believe that it does not feel
agreeable.
If, when you cut your boiled egg in two at
breakfast (if you are not breakfasting with a French
aristocrat, who never cuts, but only chips, his egg),


"i r





ice forming on the lake, and the little baby almost
unclothed at that, and then you can imagine what
the Eskimo baby has to go through.
Yet, in spite of all this, little Boreas really enjoys
himself. He gets used to the cold, and has great
fun frolicking around on the reindeer skins and
playing with his toys; and when I have told you
some other stories about the cold these little folks
can endure you can understand how they can en-
joy themselves in the snow huts, or igloos, as they
call them, when it is only a little colder than
freezing.
At times, the fire will get too warm in the snow
house, and then the ceiling will commence melt-
ing,-for you all perhaps have learned at school
that when a room becomes warmed it is warmer
at the ceiling and cooler near the floor. So with
the hut of snow: it commences melting at the top
because it is warmer there,-and when two or
three drops of cold water have fallen on little
Boreas's bare shoulders, his father or mother finds
that it is getting too warm, and cuts down the fire.


DIAGRAM OF THE PLAN OF THE ESKIMO SNOW HUT, OR IGLOO.
and have taken out the meat, you put the two
shells, rims down, on the table, you will have a
good miniature representation of a couple of
Eskimo snow huts, or winter homes. The fuller
shell, or big end of the egg, will represent an igloo






THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


during the coldest weather, when the snow is frozen horizontal. They make most of the igloos just
hard and firm, and it can be built flat without so high that, when standing on the floor in
danger of falling in, and can thus be made much front of the bed, tneir heads will not be bump-
ing against the
roof. although it
S////?/; is hard to tell just
where the house-
walls stop and the
roof commences.
When they build
/l their snow houses
/ i to live in a long
time, however,
they make them
I AM- higher and flatter
S-1j in the roof than
when they are to
be used for one or
-- two nights only;
for it must be
remembered that
their igloos in the
winter time serve
"STANDING ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF.THE BED." them the same use


more comfortable. The pointed shell, or little end
of the egg, will represent an igloo, as it must be
built in the early fall or late in the spring, when
it is getting warm and the igloo is liable to melt
and tumble in.
If through a hole in the top you pour your
model about one-third full of water and plaster of
Paris mixed, or melted wax, or something that will
harden, and, when it has hardened, if you take a
knife and cut down through it so as to take off about
a third, what is left will represent the bed, as in
Fig. 2, which, you see, occupies nearly the whole
of the room. Curious as it may seem, this bed is
also built of snow, but enough reindeer robes, bear
and musk-ox skins are placed over it to keep the
warmth of the body from melting the bed.
If with a lead-pencil you draw a continuous
spiral line on the egg-shell, far enough apart so
that there will be four or five lines from bottom to
top directly above each other, and then if you
draw lines about twice as far apart as these al-
most horizontal ones, but broken so as to repre-
sent brick-work, each little block that you thus
represent is a snow-block of which the igloo is
built. The real snow-blocks are about three feet
long, about a foot and a half wide, and six inches
to a foot thick, which would, of course, make the
thickness of the igloo itself. A row of these is
laid on the ground, the long edge down, in the
shape of a circle, and this is continued around, just
as on your egg-shell, until the snow house is built,
the last snow-block, of course, being then perfectly


as tents wherever
they travel, the smaller kind taking them, if they
are industrious, but about an hour to build,-no
one, not even an Eskimo, being able to live in a
tent in the coldest weather of these polar regions.
Just in front of the bed, and not much higher,
is the little door-way, where the occupants enter
the house. In order to do so they must get down
flat on their hands and knees and crawl in. To pre-
vent the snow from the top of the door-way brush-
ing off and falling down the neck and back, each
Eskimo puts his skin hood over his head before
entering, and just as soon as his shoulders are well
in the house he shoves the legs back and begins
to straighten up so as to prevent running his
nose square into the snow of which the bed is
made. So you will see that the igloo is lacking
very much in the "elbow room" which the
homes in warmer climates have; but, nevertheless,
the lonely Eskimo and his little boy Boreas seem
perfectly happy with the room they have, and
wonder how in the world any person could wish for
any more. The door for this entrance-way is noth-
ing but a big block of snow stuck in the little
hole which may be called the door-way, and is used
as much to keep out the dogs as it is to keep out
the cold. A small igloo of snow is often built in
front of the door (as shown in the picture on next
page), to prevent the wind from getting in easily,
and this little storm igloo is always full of dogs, who
crowd in here to keep away from the sharp,
biting wind. The Eskimo dogs, however, will sleep
right out on the hard-frozen snow-banks, if they


[MARCH,





THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


have plenty to eat, and never seem to mind it,
even though the ice on the lakes and rivers may
have frozen to a thickness of six or eight feet.
And now, as the Eskimo dogs have been
mentioned, you boys who have a favorite Carlo
or Nero at home will wish to know about those
Arctic dogs; asking what I mean by plenty to eat,
and whether, like your own favorites, they get
three meals a day and any number of intermedi-
ate lunches. No doubt you will think that they
really should get ever so much more on account
of their hard work in pulling the sledges, and
in such a cold country. Yet hard as it may
seem, the Eskimo dog never gets fed oftener than
every other day, and generally about every third
day; while in times of want and starvation in that
terrible country of cold, the length of time these
poor dogs will go without food seems beyond belief.
I once had a fine team of nineteen fat Eskimo
dogs that went six or seven days between meals
for three consecutive feedings before they reached
the journey's end and good food; and although
they all looked very thin, and were no doubt very
weak, none of them died; and yet they had been
traveling and dragging a heavy sledge foi a great


every other day on good fat walrus meat, and do
not have too much hard work to do, they will get
as fat and saucy and playful as your own dogs with
three meals a day. One of the very last things
you would imagine to be good for them is the
best food they get; that is, tough walrus hide,
about an inch in thickness, and as wiry as sole-
leather. Give your team of dogs a good meal of
this before they start, take along a light supply
of it for them, and you can be gone a couple of
weeks on a trip; when you get back, feed them
up well, and they will be as fat and strong as ever
in a very few days.
But to return to the igloo. The blocks of snow
of which the house is made are, it has been
said, from six inches to a foot in thickness; but
after the house is thus made strong,-for a heavy
man can climb or walk right over it without
tumbling it in,-the native architects throw a deep
bank of loose snow over it all, burying it in a
covering of snow from a foot to three feet thick; so
you can see, that there is a good thick wall between
little Boreas inside his home and the cold weather
outside. This snow is thrown up with great wide
shovels of wooden boards, dexterously sewed to-


AN IGLOO AS SEEN FROM THE OUTSIDE.


part of the time. Other travelers among the Es- gether with reindeer sinew, and the handle in the
kimo have given equally wonderful accounts of their center made of a curved piece of musk-ox horn.
powers of fasting. The Eskimo have many times The inner edge of the shovel, which would soon
of want and deprivation, and then their poor dogs wear off digging in the hard-frozen snows, is pro-
must suffer very much. But when they are fed tected by a tip made from the toughest part of a


365


~f36~~
-~5
--






THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


reindeer robes, to keep warm. Holding a burning
candle near the wall of snow on the side from which
the gale was coming, the flame was bent over nearly
a third or half-way toward the center of the igloo.
If the igloo becomes very warm inside by the
lamp's using up too much of the air, the heat
Sascends to the top and soon cuts its way through
Sthe soft snow in the chinks of the snow-blocks,
Sand these little chimneys soon afford a sufficient
S amount of fresh air. If they give too much, they
are chinked up with a handful of snow taken

S' \ Now that you know all about little Boreas's home,
S let us find out what he has been doing. We left him
rolling about on the reindeer skins of the snow
7 bed, in a house built of snow, where it must
'- '--/_ nearly always be below- freezing to -prevent the
S- house from melting down. Well, as the Eskimo
Must sometime be babies, so the dogs must at
some time be puppies, and the puppies are al-
N ESKIMO KNIFE AND SNOW-SHOVEL. lowed inside the igloo on the bed, where they
are the favorite playthings of the young heir.
reindeer's horn. A snow-shovel is always carried His mother makes him a number of doll dog-har-
by the Eskimo on their travels. The knives with nesses for the puppies, fixes him up a dog-whip
which they cut the blocks of snow are like great almost like his father's, and then he amuses him-
long-bladed butcher-knives, with handles of wood
long enough to be grasped easily and firmly with
both hands. Sometimes they use a
saw where they can get it by trading
with the sailors who come into certain -- -- -
parts of their seas to catch whales, -jf----- -'
walrus, and seals. -Q -.-0
But will not every one under such a
thick house of snow, with the snow-
door tightly fastened up to keep out the
dogs and cold, smother to death for
want of fresh air? And if they do not
smother, where does the fresh air come
from? The frozen snow is about as _- self harnessing them,
porous as white sugar, and all boys and hitching them to a
girls know they can draw in air through hatchet, the water-
a lump of it, or if they do not know it bucket, or any object
they can try the experiment. Well, in that is at hand, and
the same way, the cold air from the driving them around
outside passes very slowly through the in the igloo and storm
thick snow wall as fast as the people igloo, or out-of-doors,
inside use up that in the igloo ; not so when the weather is
fast but that they can warm it with their very pleasant.
little stone lamps as it comes in, unless By this time, of
there is a strong gale of wind on the course, little Boreas
outside to blow it through. I was at is able to walk, and
one time in a very thick igloo, probably I av he has a nice suit of
four feet through, but the snow was very i clothes for. outdoor
hard and sandy, and would not pack wear, made of the
down well, and as there was a very N ESKIMO TEAM OF DOGS. softest skins of the
heavy wind blowing at the time, the igloo was so reindeer fawns, trimmed with rabbit and eider-duck
cold that we all had to go to bed under the thick skin. As soon as the puppies get a little bigger,


366





GROWN-UP LAND.


the larger boys take them in hand, and by the
time they are old enough to be used for work in
the sledges, they are almost well-trained dogs
without knowing just when their schooling com-
menced.
And so with little Boreas; when he gets older
he takes the dogs his younger brother finds un-
manageable and trains them, and by the time
he is a young man, he is a good dog-driver, and
knows how to manage a sledge under all circum-
stances. This is the hardest thing that an Eskimo
has to learn. I have known white men to equal
them in rowing in their little seal-skin canoes; I
have seen white men build good igloos; but I
have never seen a white man who was a good
dog-driver; and the Eskimo told me that they had


never seen such an one, either. When they drive
their dogs, it is in the shape of a letter V, the
foremost dog being at the converging point, and
the harness-traces running back in V-shapes, to
the sledge, as shown in the accompanying sketch.
The forward dog is called the "leader," or "chief,"
and, in trading dogs, a "leader" is worth two
good followers, or ordinary workers. The Eski-
mo dog-driver manages the leader wholly by the
voice, making him stop, go ahead, to the right
or to the left, as he may speak to him; and as he
acts, so do the others, who soon learn to watch him
closely, and strangest of all, to obey him even after
they are unharnessed, although "the leader" may
not be one of the largest and strongest dogs in the
team.


(To be continued.)


GROWN-UP LAND.

BY JENNIE E. T. DOWE.


"GooD-morrow, good-morrow, mybright-eyedlad, Good-morrow, my lassie, with face so sweet,
Now what may your trouble be?" Now whither away with your flying feet?"


" Good-morrow," he answered me, sober and sad;
" Here is trouble enough for me:
Say, which is the road to Grown-up Land--
The shortest, kind stranger, I pray?
For these guide-boards all point with a different
hand,
In a dreadfully puzzling way.
This says: By the Town of Saving a Cent;
Another: Just follow your Natural Bent;
This points to the Road of Wisely Giving;
And that to the Turnpike of Truly Living;
A fifth straggles off here to Leap-frog Town;
And a sixth climbs the hill-slope of High
Renown.
These lead to the By-ways of Bat and Ball,
And the Highways of Courage and Know It All;
Then there are the Cross-roads of Play and Fun,
And ,the Post-roads of Duty and Things Well
Done.
Good Gracious! How can a boy understand
Which way is the shortest to Grown-up Land ?"

" Don't fret, my lad, for the roads, you see,
Have been traveled by manylike you and me;
And though each road has a different name,
To Grown-up Land they all of them came.
And hour by hour, my boy, you '11 find
That, little by little, they drop behind;
Till, almost before you know it, you stand
On the breezy summits of Grown-up Land."


SGood-morrow," she answered, with wave of
hand,
" I am off in a hurry to Grown-up Land.
But I wish you would show me the shortest way,
For these guide-boards, I 'm certain, will lead
me astray.
Just think! One says: 'T is a Stitch in Time;
And another: Through Smiles and Tears;
This says it is only: By Up-hill Work;
And that: By the Flight of Years.
Another says, Play; and another, Books;
And another: Just Dance and Sing,
And this one says, Help; and that one, Hope;
And this: Care in the Littlest Thing.
0, the roads are so many Who can understand
Which way is the shortest to Grown-up Land ? "

" Don't worry, my lassie, with eyes so blue,
For whichever the road that is traveled by you
It will carry you forward until you stand
On the sunlit hill-tops of Grown-up Land."

And lassie and lad
Ran off in glee,
Without so much
As "Good-day" to me.
And in Grown-up Land,
Whatever their way,
They will meet together
On Big Folks' Day.






HOW ERNEST AND THEODORE


BY AUSTIN CHAPIN, JR.


ONE Friday afternoon, not so very long ago,
there sat in one of the boxes at the Academy of
Music, in New York city, two little boys with bright
and eager faces, radiant with expectation and de-
light as they watched the great stage filled with
rows 3f musicians who were trying their instru-
ments and tuning them up in readiness to begin
the rehearsal.
There are few boys or girls who read this who do
not know what the tuning of an orchestra sounds
like, and what an uninteresting and discordant med-
ley of noises it is. Odd as it seems to us, there are
people, however,who enjoy just such noises, and call
them music. The Chinese are especially fond of such
horrible combinations of sounds, and I remember
once going to a Chinese theater, in which the orches-
tra plays a principal part, where the din was some-
thing fearful, and where the musicians reminded
me of a lot of irrepressible school-boys who had col-
lected all the tin horns, cans, whistles, and drums
they could find, and were trying to out-scream, out-
whistle, or out-toot one another. Once, so the story
goes, the Shah of Persia was in London, and went
to a concert in the famous Crystal Palace at Syd-
enham. While the orchestra was tuning up and
making all manner of queer noises, his royal high-
ness was immensely pleased and entertained, but as
soon as the concert really did begin, the Shah said
he could not see much beauty in it, and he soon
went out. The Shah of Persia showed as good taste
as many people of better education now exhibit in
concert rooms. With a difference, however; the
Shah was not ashamed to show what pleased and
displeased him, while we often see at a concert many
people who will sit through the performance of a
piece, of the meaning of which they have not the
slightest conception, and then at the end, while
they are really thinking what a noisy and tedious
thing it was, they turn to their neighbor, clasp


their hands, roll up their eyes, and exclaim: How
divinely beautiful! But let us get back to our
boys. One of them held in his lap a big book,
on the cover of which was printed the name
"Beethoven" in gilt letters, and, beneath, the
word "Symphonies," while on the programme
which they held appeared the words Symphony
in E Flat Major. Heroic. Beethoven." And now,
I am sure you will understand what the boys, and
the book, and the Beethoven all meant. The per-
formance was what is called a Symphony Concert.
Very soon the director of the orchestra took his
place, and the concert began; and in all that large
audience there were no more attentive listeners
than the two little boys whose bright eyes fol-
lowed their score from the first to the last of
Beethoven's noble Heroic Symphony. At length
it was all over, and as they went out of the big
building the younger boy said to the elder:
"Well, Ernie, it was just fine, was n't it ? I 'd
like to hear such a concert every afternoon;
would n't you ?"
"Well, rather, I should think," replied Ernest;
"but are n't you glad we studied it up beforehand?
We understood it so much better."
Ted did not reply immediately, for after he had
spoken he had fallen to thinking intently about
something, and so he walked along in silence for
some moments. Suddenly his face brightened
as if his perplexity were solved, and turning to his
brother he said, excitedly:
I say, Ernie, you know next week is the Phil-
harmonic concert, and they 're going to give the
Seventh Symphony, the one that Larry and the
Professor play, and that we like so much. When
we get home we '11 ask Mamma if we can't come
down to the city and go, and we 'll write to Mr.
Thomas and ask him to save a seat for us. We can
earn money enough by doing errands and taking


368


[MARCH,


~







HEARD THE SEVENTH SYMPHONY.


care of the chickens, and next week they 're going
to put new shingles on the house and we can make
something by clearing away the old ones."
That's a fact; and we 'll do it, too, I tell you,"
said Ernest, enthusiastically.

The boys' home was situated in one of the quiet
little towns that border the shores of the beautiful


willing, and if you go, you can stay overnight at
Uncle Ben's."
And, thinking it but another of those whims
of childhood that would be forgotten before
morning, the mother smiled gently to herself and
went on with her knitting, while the boys rattled
off upstairs to bed. For once the mother's judg-
ment was at fault, however; for, notwithstanding


A PHILHARMONIC CONCERT AT THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC, NEW YORK CITY.


Hudson River. They had a long car-ride to take
that night; but, once at home, they told their
mother of the plan, before their bed-time arrived,
and asked her advice about it. Mrs. Fraser was a
wise woman, and believed in encouraging all
wholesome enthusiasm in her young people, and
so she said, quietly:
"Yes, boys, you can try it if you wish. I am
VOL. XII.-24.'


the good laugh that she and the elders had that
evening at the latest of the boys' "schemes,"-
which generally numbered three a day, and ranged
through all the degrees of boyish ambition, from
amateur journalism to a chicken farm, and were
born only to die at dusk and bed-time,- the boys
themselves had no idea of abandoning a plan
which was the conception of their own minds, and






HOW ERNEST AND THEODORE


which they intended to arrange and carry out un-
assisted by any "grown folks." Accordingly, the
next morning the two lads occupied the great
desk in the library, and the two brown heads were
deep in a consultation which presently developed
into activity as Ernest took a clean sheet of
paper and dipped his pen into the ink-stand,
while Ted, with elbows on the desk and chin rest-
ing in his hands, followed appreciatively and ad-
miringly and with occasional suggestions the
composition of the letter which they had decided
to send to Mr. Theodore Thomas, the director
of the Philharmonic concerts. And the following
letter is the one that finally emerged from under
the overshadowing mass of boys' heads and bodies
and ink and perplexity, looking somewhat scratched
and inky and uneven, to be sure, but nevertheless
a letter:
"WHEATHEDGE, Nov. 6, 1882.
" Mr. THEODORE THOMAS.
Dear Sir: We two boys have been studying up the
Seventh Symphony and we want to hear it very much
indeed but we heard that there were no tickets left for
Friday but we thought maybe you could find room for
us two boys ten and twelve we'can sit on one seat or
stand up. Pleas answer as soon as you can, for we are
earning up money for it yours truly
ERNEST AND THEO. FRASER."

This was submitted to the maternal eye and to
that of the Professor," a name the boys had given
their tutor, and, being approved, a fresh copy was
prepared and punctuated and sent off in the after-
noon mail. Then followed a day of eager hope
and speculation as to whether Mr. Thomas would
answer it favorably, and, under the supposition that
he would, they went to work vigorously on the pile
of old shingles that the men sent flying down from
the roof of the house as they ripped them off with
spades, and the ducks and chickens decided that
the millennium was surely at hand, for never
before had such peace and plenty and prosperity
reigned in their kingdom.
Several days passed without a word in reply to
their appeal, but on Wednesday morning there ar-
rived a letter directed to Master Ernest Fraser or
Theodore Fraser," and bearing in one corner of the
envelope the words: "Philharmonic Society of New
York, Academy of Music." The boys lost no time
in opening the imposing letter, and, almost beside
themselves with eagerness and delight, they could
hardly take in the meaning of the words that Mrs.
Fraser was reading to them, as she held the letter
in one hand and two pink tickets for reserved seats
in the other.
"Listen to this, boys," said she, "and hear
what was done with your letter."


"PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY OF NEW YORK.
ACADEMY OF MUSIC.
MY DEAR BOYS: Your letter was read to the whole
Philharmonic Society to-day, and it was much applauded
for its originality. You are wrong in thinking there
are 'no tickets for sale.' There is 'standing-room
only,' and tickets are for sale for next Friday and Satur-
day. By the kindness of Mr. W. G. Dietrich, you need
not spend your money except for other expenses. Mr.
Dietrich kindly handed me two tickets to forward to' the
Boys,' and I have no doubt that you will write him a note
thanking him for his generosity. It is a sign of good
taste for boys to study up' Beethoven, and Friday will
present a good lesson. Please bring this letter with
you, so we may know 'the Boys' are with us, and ask
for the Secretary. Yours in all kindness,
"SAMUEL JOHNSON,
Secretary N. Y. P. S."

"There now! she exclaimed, as she finished
reading. It seems to me you are two very for-
tunate boys to be so highly honored, and you
must write to these gentlemen immediately and
thank them."
"All right Come on, Ted, let 's do it now,
and then get our things ready for Friday," and off
they went into the library like a flash, too excited
to do, or think, or say anything with less mod-
eration and speed than two young locomotives
off on a holiday. Mrs. Fraser, happy in the joy-
ous tumult of her boys, perceived that it would
not do now to think of retracting her promise to
them, and so, by the time the boys brought the
letters to her, she had planned the arrangements
for their musical pilgrimage, and settled it all in
her mind. The writing and composition of their
notes had somewhat sobered their enthusiasm.
One was addressed to Mr. Dietrich, who sent the
tickets, and read as follows:
MY DEAR MR. DIETRICH: We thank you very
much indeed for those tickets you sent us. We did not
know that we could not earn up money enough in
so short a time. We don't know how to thank you for
your kindness, nor tell you how glad we are to know we
are going. We will look forward to meeting you Fri-
day. Yours very truly,
"ERNEST AND THEODORE FRASER."

The other was to Mr. Johnson, the Secretary,
and this is a copy of it:
MY DEAR MR. JOHNSON: We want to thank you
for the letter you sent us, which we received this morn-
ing. We were very much surprised when we read the
letter; we thought very likely that there were no tickets
to be had, and, above all things, we did not think of hav-
ing tickets sent to us; we can not tell you how glad we
were when we knew we are going. We hope to see you
and Mr. Dietrich Friday. Yours truly,
"ERNEST FRASER.
"THEODORE FRASER."


(MARCH,






HEARD THE SEVENTH SYMPHONY.


There were not two prouder, nor more light- yet looking forward meanwhile with some motherly
hearted boys in the land than Ernest and Theodore solicitude and anxiety for their return on Monday
when on the following Friday morning they started evening. Monday came at last; it was a dreary,
off, alone, for the city and the concert. In their stormy day. Dr. Fraser was absent on a lec-
pockets was the money they had earned, andintheir turning tour. Sis was away visiting one of her
hands they carried the Beethoven and the valise former school friends; the two elder brothers were
which held the things they should need fortheirstay at college, and so it was that Mrs. Fraser and the
at Uncle Ben's, for it had been arranged that, in- Professor, with little Bonnie, or "Jerusha Tittlc-
steadofcominghometheSaturdayaftertheconcert, back," as she preferred to be called, were the only
they were to remain over till the Monday following, ones who, at the dusk of the early-closing day, met
As it always is when the children are away from in the bay-window that overlooked the drive, to
home, the house was wofully quiet at first, but the watch, with considerable eagerness and anticipa-
next day there came back stray gleams of the tion, for the return of the carriage from the
departed sunshine in the shape of brief postal- station with James and the boys. Six o'clock came.
cards. The first was from Ernest, and read: No boys. It grew too dark to watch, and the lamps
were lighted. Half-past six and tea-time. No boys
DEAR MAMMA: When we went to the Academy of yet. Seven o'clock, with Mrs. Fraser and the Pro-
Music, we asked the box ticket-man if we could see Mr. fesssor at the lonely tea-table, the contents of which
Johnson, and he said: I don't know the gentleman.' remained almost untouched, while a forced conver-
I said I meant the Secretary; he told me to go to the station strove to hide the growing anxiety of both.
other office, so I went there and asked him; he said that Half-past seven, and yet no boys, and now anxiety
he (Mr. Johnson) was on the other side of the doors, and had grown to alarm, for the papers had of late been
I could see him as soon as the doors were open. After
they were open I asked a gentleman where Mr. Johnson full of amounts of disasters on land and sea, and
was; he asked me for my tickets, and said they were not the railroad that joined Wheathedge with New
good, but he gave us two other tickets. I saw Mr. York had been visited with more than its share of
Johnson. accidents.
"ERNEST." A little after half-past seven the scarcely-tasted
meal came to an end, and Mrs. Fraser and the Pro-
The second was a remarkably concise and char- fessor rose from the table, when, just as they were
acteristic account of the concert from Ted, who passing through the hall, there came the welcome
wrote: sound of I h.eol on the drive, the familiar whistle
DEAR MAMMA: We had a very nice time at the and call, and in a moment more the travelers were
concert this afternoon. We did not know that we cold in the warm, bright light of the hall and clasped in
get in or we cold get out. There was a man that sat their mother's'arms. However sudden the change
with us, and said Now let's look over OUR book.' He from alarm to thankfulness and joy in the heart of
did not know beans about music, but he thought he did. the fond 'mother, the young gentlemen had no time
"From, THEODORE FRASER." for sentiment, and announced together and in one
breath and as if they were telling the most com-
The third card was the joint production of both monplace thing in the world:
boys, and read: "Oh, yes we had an accident at Peekskill.
A freight train smashed up or something. That's
"DEAR MAMMA: Mr. Johnson gave us the preference eight train s lae re teribly hungry-.
of sitting on the stage or sitting upstairs; we chose up- what made us so late. We 'r terribly hungry-
stairs; he advised us to sit upstairs. Teddy told you can't we have something to eat? Are you through
about the young man up there. We had no trouble in tea yet ? and with this brief explanation the little
finding our way about. Love to all, from group sought the tea-table, two of them with far
ERNEST." different feelings from those with which they had
left it a few moments earlier.
"DEAR MAMMA: We are having a very nice time "Now, tell us all about it," said Mrs. Fraser
here. Ernest is showing Uncle Ben about Papa's jim- when the boys had taken off the keen edge of their
nast-machine. Tell the Professor we enjoyed the con- appetites, "and how you found Mr. Johnson."
cert. I sendlove.
cert. THEODORE." Well," said Ted, sputtering out the words as
fast as he could, and with no thought of grammar
In the absence of the boys themselves these or connection, we got to the door all right, and
brief messages were the best possible substitutes, showed the man our tickets, and he said they
and Mrs. Fraser contented herself with the postal- would n't do, and then we told him about it and
cards, satisfied to know that the boys' experi- said we wanted to see Mr. Johnson. Then he let
ment had thus far been a safe and pleasant one, us in, and we found Mr. Johnson and showed him






YE WILD MARCH HARE.


the letter, and he laughed and said: 'Well,
if here are n't the boys, after all!' And then
he took us inside and asked us where we
wanted to sit, on the stage or in the audience.
We said we thought we could hear better if we
were in the audience; so he gave us two good
seats and a programme, and then went away.
Oh -I forgot about the umbrella. It was rain-
ing and we were so excited that we forgot to put
down the umbrella when we went into the Acad-
emy, and we kept it up until Mr. Johnson laughed
and said he thought we might as well close it for a
little while. And then there was a man came in
and sat next to us, and he took off his coat and
looked over our score and talked about Beethoven,
and tried to turn the pages at the wrong place. And
he had an opera-glass, and he looked straight up
in the air through the little end of it. I believe he
was crazy, and I don't think he knew anything
about music."
Do wait a moment, and don't go so fast, Ted,"
said the Professor. "And now tell us what you
thought of the symphony."
Oh I it was beautiful! answered Ernest, who


was really the more musical of the two, "and the
allegretto was best of all, and we could follow
every note of it. They had another one, too,
called the 'Scandinavian Symphony,' and that
I liked very much."
Very soon after the excitement of their return
and the recital of their adventures had passed,
both boys began to show their weariness, and so,
after the good-nights were said, they started
upstairs, dragging their feet slowly after them,
keeping time with a dismal sort of funeral march
which they whistled, using as a theme the mel-
ody of the allegretto which Ernest had spoken of.
Mrs. Fraser and the Professor laughed as this and
other sounds came down from the room above, and
as the Professor picked up the letter from Mr. John-
son, which the boys had left on the piano, he said:
"I must say I think the Philharmonic Society
has distinguished itself in this matter."
"Very true," answered Mrs. Fraser; "but how
about the little boys ? "
And with a smile, perhaps of amusement, and
perhaps of motherly pride, she folded up the fifteenth
pair of mended stockings and started on another.


[MARCH,


372






373


DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.




DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.

BY E. P. ROE.


CHAPTER II.
ON THE WAY TO EDEN.
HE almanac had an-
nounced spring; nat-
ure appeared quite
unaware of the fact,
.but, as far as we were
concerned, the alma-
l'r \\\ ;; nac was right. Spring
was the era of hope,
i -i of change, and hope
was growing in our
i -- |.-; 'i" hearts like "Jack's
bean," in spite of low-
eringwintryskies. We
were eager as robins
sojourning in the South to take our flight northward.
My duties to my employers had ceased on the
first of March; I had secured tenants who would
take possession of our rooms as soon as we should
leave them, and now every spare moment was
given to studying the problem of country living
and to preparations for departure. I obtained
illustrated catalogues from several dealers in
seeds, and we pored over them every evening.
At first.they bewildered us with their long lists of
varieties; while the glowing descriptions of new
kinds of vegetables just being introduced awakened
in us something of a gambling spirit.
How fortunate it is," exclaimed my wife, that
we are going to the country just as the vegetable
marvels were discovered Why, Robert, if half of
what is said is true, we shall make our fortunes "
With us, hitherto, a beet had been a beet, and
a cabbage a cabbage; but here were accounts of
beets which, as Merton said, beat all creation,"
and pictures of cabbage heads which well-nigh
turned our own. With a blending of hope and dis-
trust I carried two of the catalogues to a shrewd
old fellow in Washington Market. He was a
dealer in country produce, who had done business
so long at the same stand that he was looked upon
among his fellows as a kind of patriarch. During
a former interview he had replied to my questions
with a blunt honesty that had inspired confidence.
The morning was somewhat mild, and I found
him in his shirt-sleeves, smoking his pipe among
his piled-up barrels, boxes, and crates, after his
eleven-o'clock dinner. His day's work was prac-
tically over; and well it might be, for, like others


of his calling, he had begun it long before dawn.
Now his old felt hat was pushed well back on his
bald head, and his red face, fringed with a grizzled
beard, expressed a sort of heavy, placid content.
His small gray eyes twinkled as shrewdly as ever.
With his pipe he indicated a box on which I might
sit while we talked.
See here, Mr. Bogart," I began, showing him
the seed catalogues, how is a man to choose wisely
what vegetables he will raise from a list as long as
your arm ? Perhaps I should n't take any of those
old-fashioned kinds, but go into these wonderful
novelties, which promise a new era in horticulture."
The old man gave a contemptuous grunt; then,
removing his pipe, he blew out a cloud of smoke
that half obscured us both as he remarked, gruffly,
"A fool and his money are soon parted."
This was about as rough as March weather; but
I knew my man, and perhaps proved that I was
not a fool by not parting with him then and there.
Come, now, neighbor," I said, brusquely, I
know some things that you don't. If you came
to me I 'd give you the best advice that I could.
I 've come to you because I believe you to be
honest and to know what I don't. And when I tell
you that I have a little family dependent on me,
and that, if possible, I mean to get a living for them
out of the soil, I believe you are man enough
both to feel and to show a little friendly interest;
if you are not, I '11 look farther and fare better."
"Well, you let that new-fangled truck alone,"
he said, till you get more forehanded in cash and
experience. Then you may learn how to make
something out of the novelties, as they call 'em-
if they are worth growing at all. Now and then a
good penny is turned on a new fruit or vegetable;
but how to do it will be one of the last tricks that
you '11 learn in your new trade. Hand me one of
those misleadin' books, and I 'l1 mark a few solid
kinds, such as produce ninety-nine hundredths of
all that's used or sold. Then you can go to What-
you-call-'em's store, and take a line from me, and
you'll get the genuine article at market-gardeners'
prices."
Now, Mr. Bogart, you are treating me like a
man and a brother."
"No; only treating you like one who, p'raps,
may deal with me. Do as you please about it, but
if you want to take along a lot of my business cards
and fasten 'em to anything you have to sell, I '11
give you all they bring, less my commission."






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


I went home feeling
as if I had solid ground A
under my feet. -_'
The next day, accord- --.----
ing to appointment, I _
went to Maizeville. John
Jones met me at the 1 "".. i'
station, and drove me in
his box-sleigh to see the i I
lace he had written of .'
in his laconic note. I 'i i
looked at him curiously i
as we jogged along over -l.
the melting snow. The '-" '
day was unclouded, for -'
a wonder, and the sun -. ----
proved its increasing -- -
power by turning the .
sleigh-tracks in the road -- -
into gleaming rills. The
visage of my new ac-
quaintance formed a I
decided contrast to the :
rubicundface of the beef- '-
eating market-man. He -' S'
was sandy, even to his
eye-brows and complex- \
ion. His frame was as
gaunt as that of a scare-
crow, and his hands and
feet were enormous. He
had one redeeming feat- AR. BOGART GIVES SOMI
ure, however, -- a pair of
blue eyes that looked straight at you and made you
feel that there was no "crookedness behind them.
His brief letter had led me to expect a man of
few words, but I soon found that John Jones was
a talker and a good-natured gossip. He knew every
one we met, and he was usually greeted with, a
rising inflection, like this: "Howareyou, JOHN?"
We drove inland for two or three miles, over
hills and down dales, surrounded by scenery that
seemed to me beautiful beyond all words, even in
its wintry aspect.
What mountain is that standing off by itself?"
I asked.
Schunemunk," he said. Your place- well,
I guess it will be yours before plantin'-time comes
is well off to the east of that mountain, and looks
up the valley between it and the main highlands
on the left. Yonder's the house, on the slope
of this big round hill that '11 shelter you from the
north winds."
I shall not describe the place very fully now, pre-
ferring that it should be seen through the eyes
of my wife and children, as well as my own.
The dwelling appears old," I said.


"Yes, part of ,
it 's a good deal
more 'n a hun-
dred years old.
It's been added
to at both ends. But there are timbers in it that
will stand another hundred years. I had a fire
made in the livin'-room this morning to take off
the chill, and we '11 go in and sit down after we 've
looked the place over. Then you must come and
take pot-luck with us."
At first I was not at all enthusiastic, but the
more I examined the place, and thought it over,
the more it grew on my fancy. When I entered
the main room of the cottage, and saw the wide,
old-fashioned fire-place, with its crackling blaze, I
thawed so rapidly that John Jones chuckled:
"You're positively refreshin', for a city chap.
But take that old arm-chair, Mr. Durham, and I '11
soon tell you all about the place. It looks rather
run down, as you have seen. Old Mr. and Mrs.
Jamison lived here till lately. Last January, the
old man died, and a good old man he was. His
wife has gone to live with a daughter. By the will


374


[MARCH,





DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN


I was appointed executor and trustee. I 've fixed
on a fair price for the property, and I 'm goin' to
hold on till I get it. There are twenty acres of
plowable land and orchard, and a five-acre wood-
lot, as I told you. The best part of the property
is this: Mr. Jamison was a natural fruit-grower.
He had a lot of good fruit here, and he only grew
the best. He was always a-speerin' round, and
when he come across something extra, he 'd get a
graft, or a root or two. So he gradually came to
have the best there was a-goin' in these parts.
Now, I tell you what it is, Mr. Durham, you can
buy plenty of new, bare places, but your hair
would be gray before you 'd have the fruit that old
man Jamison planted and tended into bearing
condition; and you can buy places with fine shade-
trees and all that, and a good show of a garden
and orchard; but Jamison used to say that an
apple or cherry was a pretty enough shade-tree for
him; and he used to say, too, that a
tree that bore the biggest and best
apples did n't take any more room
than one that yielded what was fit
only for the cider-press. Now, the .
p'int 's just here: You don't come
to the country to amuse yourself by Q I ,
developing' a property, like most city
chaps do, but to make a livin'. Well, I
don't you see? this farm is like a
mill; when the sun's another month
higher, it will start all the machinery
in the apple, cherry, and pear trees,
and the small fruits, and it will turn
out a crop the first year you 're here '
that will put money in your pocket."
Then he named the price, half
down, and the rest on mortgage, if I I '
so preferred. It was within the limit
that my means permitted. I got up
and went all over the house, which i
was still plainly furnished in part. A
large wood-house near the back door
had been well filled by the provident '
old man. There was ample cellar-.
room, which was also a safeguard
against dampness. Then I went out
and walked around the house; it was
all so quaint and homely as to make
me feel that it would soon become
home-like to us. There was nothing
smart to be seen, nothing new ex-
cept a barn that had recently been
built near one of the oldest and
grayest structures of the kind I had ever seen. The
snow-clad mountains lifted themselves about me in
a way that promised a glimpse of beauty every
time I should look up from work. Yet, after all,


my eyes lingered longest on the orchard and the
fruit-trees that surrounded the dwelling.
That's sensible," remarked Mr. Jones, who
followed me with no trace of anxiety or impatience.
"Paint, putty, and pine will make a house in a
few weeks, but it takes a good part of a century
to build up an orchard like that."
That was just what I was thinking, Mr. Jones."
Oh, I knew that. Well, I 've just two more
things to say, and then I 'm done, and you can
take it or leave it. Don't you see, the house is on
a slope facing the south-east ? You get the morn-
in' sun and southern breeze. Some people don't
know what they 're worth; but I, who 've lived
here all my life, know they're worth payin' for.
Again, you see, the ground slopes off to the creek
yonder. That means good drainage. We don't
have any malary here, and that fact is worth as
much as the-farm, for I would n't take a section of
'the Garden of Eden if there was
-- malary around."
1 "- O ,...,A r 1 ..:.r- i -,.. M r.
j". ir--:, I:..' ( r l : ri the 'ui ner
r' (i'. he'' : h[l' -.i\ ,. [l'r,- I ai ,'tl're .1 "
l "i" \\ -11 n.: .t ai n le "


1l;-- -



'4_ I;'.';, i-I.


.,., T ,, ,, ,- r-- :

I laughed as I said, "I shall have one neigh-
bor, it seems, to whom I can lend an umbrella."
Then you '11 take the place ? "
Yes, if my wife is as well satisfied as I am. I






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN


want you to give me the refusal of it for one week
at the price you named."
Agreed; and I 'll put it in black and white."
Mrs. Smith made a striking contrast to her hus-
band, for she first impressed me as being short,
red, and round ; but her friendly, bustling ways and
hearty welcome soon added other and very pleasant
impressions; and when she placed a great dish of
fricasseed chicken on the table, she won a good-
will which her neighborly kindness has steadily
increased.

Never was a traveler from remote foreign clime
listened to with more breathless interest than I
as I related my adventures at our late supper after
my return. Mousie looked almost feverish in her
excitement, and Winnie and Bobsey exploded
with merriment over the name of the mountain
that would be one of our nearest neighbors. They
dubbed the place Schunemunks at once. Mer-
ton put on serious and sportsman-like airs as he
questioned me, and it was evident that he expected
to add largely to our income by means of the game
he should kill. I did not take much pains to dis-
pel his illusions, knowing that one day's tramp
would do this, and that he would bring back in-
creased health and strength, if nothing else.
Nofairy-tale had ever absorbed the children as did
the description of that old house and its surround-
ings, and when at last they were induced to retire, I
said to my wife, after explaining the whole matter:
It all depends on you. If you wish, we will go
up there together on the first pleasant day, so that
you can see for yourself before we decide."
She laughed as she said, "I decided, two minutes
after you arrived."
"How is that? "
"I saw you had the place in your eyes. Oh,
Robert I can read you like a book. You give in
to me in little things, and that pleases a woman,
you know. You must decide a question like this,
for it is a question of support for us all; and you
can do better on a place that suits you than on one
never quite to your mind. It has grown more and
more clear to me all the evening that you have fall-
en in love with the old place,--and that settles it."
Well, you women have a way of your own of
deciding a question."
So we chose our country home The small
patrimony, to which we had added but little-
(indeed, we had often denied ourselves in order not
to diminish it) was nearly all to be invested in
the farm, and a debt was also to be incurred. While
yielding to my fancy, I believed that I had, at the
same time, chosen wisely; for, as John Jones said,
the mature fruit-trees on the place would begin to
yield returns very soon.


We were now all eager to get away, and the
weather favored our wishes. A warm rain with a
high south wind set in, and the ice disappeared
from the river as if by magic. I learned that the
afternoon boat which touched at Maizeville would
begin its trips the following week.
I told my wife about the furniture which still
remained in the house, and the prices which John
Jones put upon it. We therefore found that we
could dispose of a number of bulky articles in our
city apartments, and save a goodly sum in cartage
and freight. Like soldiers short of ammunition,
we had to make every dollar tell; and when, by
thought and management, we could save a little,
it was talked over as a triumph to be proud of.
The children entered into the spirit of the thing
with great zest. They were all going to be hardy
pioneers. One evening I described the landing
of the "Mayflower," and some of the New
England winters that followed, and they wished
to come down to Indian meal at once as a steady
diet. Indeed, toward the last, we did come down to
rather plain fare; for, in packing up one thing after
another, we finally reached the cooking utensils.
On the morning of the day preceding the one
set apart for our departure, I began to use military
figures of speech, and said:
Now we must get into marching order and
prepare to break camp. Soldiers, you know,
when about to move, dispose of all their heavy
baggage, cook several days' provisions, pack up
and load on wagons what they mean to take with
them, and start. It is a trying time -one that
requires the exercise of good soldierly qualities,
such as prompt obedience, indifference to hardship
and discomfort, and especially courage in meeting
whatever happens."
Thus the children's imaginations were kindled,
and our prosaic breaking up and moving became
a time of grand excitement.
Bobsey, however, passed at last beyond patience
and management. The very spirit of mischief
seemed to have entered his excited little brain.
He untied bundles, placed things where they were
in the way, and pestered the busy mother with so
many questions, that I hit upon a decided measure
to keep him quiet. I told him about a great com-
mander who, in an important fight, was strapped
to a mast so that he could oversee everything,
and then I tied the little fellow in a chair. At
first he was much elated, and chattered like a
magpie; but when, after a few moments, he
found he was not to be released, he began to howl
for freedom. I then carried him, chair and all, to
one of the rear rooms. Soon his cries ceased, and
tender-hearted Mousie stole after him. Return-
ing, she said, with her low laugh :


376


[MARCH,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN. 377


He '11 be good now, for a w
asleep."
The last night in the city flat
camping out, and we looked a
grants. But the fatigues of the
sound sleep, and in the morning
dawn, from our shake-downs on tl
and eagerly and hopefully beg
final preparations for departure.
sponse to my letters, John Jor
promised to meet us at the Ma


while; he's sound

was in truth like
nd felt like emi-
day brought us
we rose with the
ie floor,
an our
In re-
ies had
aizeville :-" | _


I, -J








.


THE COMMANDER GOES TO SLEEJ


landing with his strong covered rockaway, and to
have a fire in the old farm-house. Load after load
was dispatched to the boat; for I preferred to deal
with one trusty truckman. Then, when all had
been taken away, we said good-bye to our neighbors
and took the horse-cars to the boat, making our
quiet exit in the least costly way. I knew the boat
would be warm and comfortable, and proposed
that we should eat our lunch there.
The prospect, however, of seeing the wharves,
the boats, and the river, destroyed even children's


appetites. We soon reached the crowded dock,
and the great steamer appeared to be a part of it,
lying along its length with its several gangways,
over which boxes, barrels, and packages were be-
ing hustled on board with perpetual din. The
younger children were a little awed at first by the
noise and apparent con-
fusion. Mousie kept close
to my side, and even Bob-
S_ sey clung to his mother's
hand. The extended up-
per cabin with the state-
rooms opening along its
sides was as comfortable
as a floating parlor with
its arm and rocking
chairs; and here, not far
from a great heater, we
established our head-
-- quarters. I made the
-- -children locate the spot
-- carefully, and said:
"From this point we
'11 make excursions. In
the first place, Merton,
S you come with me and
see that all our house-
hold effects are together
and in good order. You
< must learn to travel and
i- look after things like a
man."
After spending a little
". 't time in arranging our
-' goods so that they would
be safer and more com-
S. pact, we went to the cap-
c c tain and laughingly told
I { E' him we were emigrants
Sto Maizeville, and hoped
before long to send a
good deal of produce by
his boat, and therefore
we wanted him to "lump"
us, goods, children, and
all, and deliver us safely
at the Maizeville wharf for as small a sum as
possible.
He good-naturedly agreed, and I found that the
chief stage of our journey would involve less out-
lay than I expected.
Thus far all had gone so well that I began to
fear that a change must take place soon, in order
that our experience should be more like the com-
mon lot of humanity. When at last I took all the
children out on the after-deck to remove the first
edge of their curiosity, I saw that there was at least






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


an ominous change occurring in the weather.
The day had begun mildly, and there had been a
lull in the usual March winds. Now a scud of
clouds was drifting swiftly in from the eastward,
and chilly, fitful gusts began to moan and sigh
about us. A storm was coming, evidently, and my
hope was that we might reach our haven before it
began. I kept my fears to myself, and we watched
the long lines of carts converging toward the gang-
planks of our own and other steam-boats.
"See, youngsters," I cried, "all this means
commerce. These loads and loads of things will
soon be at stores and homes up the river, supply-
ing the various needs of people. To-morrow the
residents along the.river will bring what they have
to sell to this same boat, and by daylight the fol-
lowing morning other carts will be carrying coun-
try produce and manufactured articles all over
the city. Thus, you see, commerce is made by
people supplying themselves and each other with
what they need. Just as soon as we can bring
down a crate of strawberries and send it to Mr.
Bogart, we shall be adding to the commerce of the
world in the best way. We shall become what are
called the producers; and were it not for this class,
the world would soon come to an end."
"'Rah !" cried Bobsey, "I 'm goin' to be a
producer."
He promised, however, to be a consumer for a
long time to come, especially of patience. His
native fearlessness soon asserted itself, and he
wanted to go everywhere and see everything, ask-
ing questions about machinery, navigation, river
craft, the contents of every box, bale, or barrel we
saw, till I felt I was being used like a town pump,
and I pulled him back to the cabin, resolving to
stop his questioning, for a time at least, with the
contents of our lunch-basket.
Winnie was almost as bad, or as good, perhaps I
should say; for, however great the wear and tear on
me might be, I knew that these active little brains
were expanding to receive a host of new ideas.
Mousie was quiet as usual, and made no trouble;
but I saw with renewed hope that this excursion
into the world inspired in her a keen and natural
interest. Ever since the project of country life had
been decided upon, the listless, weary look had
been giving place to one of greater animation. The
hope of flowers and a garden had fed her life like
a deep hidden spring.
To Merton I had given larger liberty, and had
said, It is not necessary for you to stay with me
all the time. Come and go on the boat and wharf
as you wish. Pick up what knowledge you can;
all I ask is that you will use good sense in keeping
out of trouble and danger."
I soon observed that he was making acquaint-


ances here and there, and asking questions which
would go far to make good his loss of schooling
for a time. Finding out about what one sees is,
in my belief, one of the best ways of getting an
education. The trouble with most of us is that
we accept too much of what we see without
inquiry or knowledge.
The children were much interested in scenes
witnessed from the side of the boat farthest from
the wharf. Here in the inclosed water-space were
several kinds of craft, but the most curious in their
eyes was a group of canal-boats--" queer traveling
houses," Mousie called them, for it was evident
that each one had a family on board, and the little
entrance to the hidden cabin was like a hole, from
which men, women, and children came like rab-
bits out of a burrow. Tough, hardy, bare-footed
children were everywhere. While we were look-
ing, one frowzy-headed little girl popped up from
her burrow, in the boat, and with legs and feet as
red as a boiled lobster, ran along the guards like a
squirrel along a fence.
Oh, dear sighed Mousie, I 'd rather live
in a city flat than in such a house."
"I think it would be splendid," protested Win-
nie, "to live in a traveling house. You could'go
all over, and still stay at home."
I was glad on our return to find my wife dozing
in her chair. She was determined to spend in rest
the hours on the boat, and had said that Mousic,
also, must be quiet much of the afternoon.
Between three and four the crush on the wharf
became very great; horses and drays were so
mixed up that to inexperienced eyes it would seem
that they could never be untangled. People of
every description, loaded down with parcels, were
hurrying on board, and from our point of view
it appeared that American women shared with
their French sisters an aptness for trade. Among
the passengers were not a few substantial, matronly
persons who apparently could look the world in
the face and get the better of it.
As four P. M. approached, I took the children
to a great glass window in the cabin, through which
we could see the massive machinery.
"Now," said I, "watch the steel giant; he is
motionless, but in a moment or two he will
move."
True enough, he appeared to take along breath
of steam, and then slowly lifted his polished arms,
or levers, and the boat that had been like a part
of the wharf began to act as if it were alive and
were waking up.
"Now," I asked, "shall we go to the after-deck
and take our last look at the city, or forward and
see the river and whither we are going?"
Forward forward cried all in chorus.


378


[MARCH,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


"That's the difference between youth and
age," I thought. "With the young it is always
'forward';" but we found that we could not
go out on the forward deck, for the wind would
have carried away my light, frail Mousie, like a
feather. Indeed, it was whistling a wild tune as
we stood in a small room with glass windows all
round. The waves were crowned with foaming
white-caps, and the small craft that had to be out
in the gale were bobbing up and down, as if pos-
sessed. On the river was a strange and lurid light,
which seemed to come more from the dashing
water than from the sky, so dark was the latter with
skurrying clouds.
Mousie clung timidly to my side, but I re-assured
her by saying:
"See how steadily, how evenly and boldly, our
great craft goes out on the wide river! In the same


the scene, especially Winnie, whose bold black
eyes flashed with excitement.
"I want to see everything, and know every-
thing," she said.
I wish you to see and know about things like
these," I replied; "but not such things as Me-
lissa Daggett would show you."
I confess that I did not like the looks of the sky
or of the snow-flakes that began to whirl in the
air, but the strong steamer plowed her way rapidly
past the city and the villa-crowned shores beyond.
The gloom of the storm and early coming night
was over all, and from the distant western shore the
Palisades frowned dimly through the obscurity.
My wife came and, after a brief glance, shivered
and was turning away, when I said, "You don't
like your first glimpse of the country, Winifred? "
"It will look differently next June. The chil-


"MOST CURIOUS OF ALL WERE THE CANAL-BOATS-'QUEER TRAVELING HOUSES.'"


way we must go forward, and never be afraid.
These boats run every day, after the ice disappears,
and they are managed by men who know what to
do in all sorts of weather."
She smiled, but whispered, I think I '11 go
back and stay with mamma; but she soon found
much amusement in looking at passing scenes
from the windows of the warm after-cabin scenes
that were like pictures set in oval frames.
But the other children appeared fascinated by


dren will take cold here. Let them come and watch
the machinery."
This we all did for a time, and then I took them
on excursions about the inclosed parts of the boat.
The lamps were already lighted, and the piled-up
freight stood out in grotesque light and shadow.
Before very long we were standing by one of the
furnace rooms, and a sooty-visaged man threw open
the iron doors of the furnace. In the glare of light
that rushed forth, everything near stood out


379






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


almost as vividly as it would have done in a
steady gleam of lightning. The fireman instantly
became a startling silhouette, and the coal that he
shoveled into what was like the flaming mouth of
a cavern seemed sparkling black diamonds. The
snow-flakes glimmered as the wind swept them by
the wide-open window, and in the distance were seen
the lights and dim outline of another boat going
toward the city. Clang the iron doors are shut,
and all is obscure again.
"Now the boat has had its supper," said Bobsey.
" Oh, dear, I wish we could have a big hot supper."


I made up my mind that it would be good econ-
omy for us all to have a hearty hot supper, as
Bobsey had suggested; and when, at last, the
gong resounded through the boat, we trooped
down with the others to the lower cabin, where
there were several long tables with colored waiters
in attendance. We had not been in these lower
regions before, and the eyes of the children soon
wandered from their plates to the berths, or sleep-
ing-bunks, which lined the sides of the cabin.
Yes," I replied, in answer to their questions,
" it is a big supper-room now, but by and by it


" SCENES THAT WERE LIKE PICTURES SET IN OVAL FRAMEF"


The smoking-room door stood open, and we lin-
gered near it for some moments, attracted first by
a picture of a great fat ox, that suggested grassy
meadows, plowing, juicy steaks, and other pleasant
things. Then our attention was drawn to a man,
evidently a cattle-dealer, who was holding forth to
others more or less akin to him in their pursuits.
As time passed, the storm increased, and the
air became so thick with driving snow that the
boat's speed was slackened, and occasionally we
"slowed up" for some moments. The passen-
gers shook their heads and remarked, dolefully,
" There 's no telling when we '11 arrive."


will be a big bedroom, and people will be tucked
away in these berths just as if they were laid on
shelves, one over the other."
The abundant and delicious supper gave each
of us solid comfort and satisfaction. Bobsey ate
until the passengers around him were laughing;
but he, with superb indifference, attended strictly
to business.
My wife whispered, You must all eat enough
to last a week, for I sha'n't have time to cook any-
thing;" and I was much pleased at the good
example which she and Mousie set us.
Both before and after supper, I conducted Bob-


380


(MARCH,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


sey to the wash-room, and he made the people
laugh as he stood on a chair and washed his face.
But he was a sturdy little fellow, and only laughed
back when a man said he looked as though he was
going to dive into the basin.
Mousie at last began to show signs of fatigue;
and learning that it would be several hours still
before we could hope to arrive, so severe was the
storm, I procured the use of a state-room, and
soon Bobsey was snoring in the upper berth, and
my invalid girl smiling and talking in low tones
to her mother in the lower couch. Winnie,
Merton, and I prowled around, spending the time
as best we could. Occasionally we looked through
the windows at the bow, and wondered how the
pilot could find his way through the tempest. I
confess I had fears lest he might not find his way,
and felt that I should be grateful indeed when my
little band was safe on shore. The people in
charge of the boat, however, knew their business.
At last we were fast at the Maizeville landing,
although long after the usual hour of arrival. I
was anxious, indeed, to learn whether John Jones
would meet us, or whether, believing that we
would not come in such a storm, and tired of wait-
ing, he had gone home and left us to find such
shelter as we could.
But there he was, looking in the light of the
lanterns as grizzled as old Time himself, with his
eyebrows and beard full of snow-flakes. He and I
hastily carried the three younger children ashore
through the driving snow, and put them in a
corner of the storehouse, while Merton followed
with his mother.
"Mr. Jones," I exclaimed, you are a neigh-
bor to be proud of already. Why did n't you go
home and leave us to our fate? "
Well," he replied, laughing, "'t would n't take
you long to get snowed under to-night. No, no,
when I catch fish I mean to land 'em. I did n't
know but in such a roarin' storm you might be
inclined to stay on the boat and go back to the
city. Then where would my bargain be?"
No fear of that. We're in for it now-we 've
enlisted, for the war. What shall we do? "
"Well, I hardly know-one thing first, anyhow.
We must get Mrs. Durham and the children into
the warm waitin'-room, and then look after your
traps."
The room was already crowded, but we squeezed
them in, white from scarcely more than a mo-
ment's exposure to the storm. Then we took hold
and gave the deck-hands a lift with my baggage,
Merton showing much manly spirit in his readiness
to face the weather and the work. My effects were
soon piled up by themselves, and then we held a
council.


Mrs. Durham '11 hardly want to face this storm
with the children," began Mr. Jones.
Are you going home ? I asked.
Yes, sir. I 'd rather travel all night for the
sake of being home in the morning."
"To tell the truth, I feel in the same way," I
continued, "but reason must hold the reins. Do
you think you could protect Mrs. Durham and the
children from the storm? "
"Yes, I think we could tuck 'em in so they 'd
scarcely know it was snowin', and then we could
sled your things up in the morning 'Commo-
dations on the landin' to-night will be pretty
crowded."
We '11 let her decide, then."
When I explained how things were and what
Mr. Jones had said, she exclaimed, "Oh, let us
go home."
How my heart jumped at her use of the word
"home," in regard to a place that she had never
seen. "But, Winifred," I urged, "do you realize
how bad a night it is ? Do you think it would be
safe for Mousie ? "
"It is n't so very cold if one is not exposed to
the wind and snow," she replied, "and Mr. Jones
says we need n't be exposed. I don't believe we 'd
run as much risk as in going to a little hotel, the
best rooms of which are already taken. Since we
can do it, it will be so much nicer to go to a place
that we feel is our own "
I must say that your wishes accord with mine."
"Oh, I knew that," she replied, laughing.
"Mr. Jones," she added, sociably, this man has
a way of telling you what he wishes by his looks'
before asking your opinion."
I found that out, the day he came up to see the
place," chuckled my neighbor. "'He don't know
how to make a bargain any more than one of the
children there. I '11 go to the shed and get the
hosses, and we '11 make a pull for home. I don't
believe you '11 be sorry when you get there."
Mr. Jones came around to the very door with
the rockaway, and we did tuck my wife and
children under the buffalo robes and blankets,
until they could hardly breathe; and then we
started out into the white, spectral world, for the
wind had coated everything with the soft, wet
snow. On we went at a slow walk, for the snow
and mud were both deep, and the wheeling was very
heavy. Even John Jones's loquacity was checked,
for every time he opened his mouth, the wind half
filled it with snow. Some one ahead of us, with a
lantern, guided our course for a mile or so through
the dense obscurity, and then he turned off on
another road. At first I hailed one and another
in the black cavern of the rockaway back of me,
and their muffled voices would answer, "All right."


381







382 DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN. [MARCH,


But one after another they ceased to answer me,
until all except my wife were fast asleep. She
insisted that she was only very drowsy, but I knew
that she also was very, very tired. Indeed, I felt,
myself, in a way that frightened me, the strange
desire to sleep that overcomes those long exposed
to cold and wind.
I must have been nodding and swaying around
rather loosely, when I felt myself going heels over
head into the snow. As I picked myself up I
heard my wife and children screaming, and John
Jones shouting to his horses, Git up," while at
the same time he lashed them with his whip. My
face was so plastered with snow that I could see
only a dark object which was evidently being
dragged violently out of a ditch, for when the level
road was reached, Mr. Jones shouted, "Whoa."
Robert, are you hurt?" cried my wife.
"No; are you?"
"Not a bit, but I 'm frightened to death."
Then John Jones gave a hearty guffaw.
Where are we ? I asked.
"I 'm here; have n't the remotest idea where
you be," replied Mr. Jones.
"You are a philosopher," I said, groping my
way through the storm toward his voice. '
"I believe I was a big fool for trying' to get
home such a night as this; but now that we've
set about it, we 'd better get there. That 's right.
Scramble in and take the reins. Here's my
mittens."
What are you going to do ?"
"I 'm going to 'light and smell out the road.
This is equal to any Western blizzard I 've heard
of yet."
How far have we got to go now ?"
"Half a mile, as nigh as I can make out," was
the reply; and we jogged on again.
"Are you sure you are not hurt?" Mousie
asked me.
"Sure; it was like tumbling into a feather bed."
"Stop a bit," cried Mr. Jones. "There's a
turn in the road here. Let me go on a little and
lay out your course."
"Oh, I wish we had staid' anywhere under
shelter," said my wife.
Courage," I cried; "when home, we '11 laugh
over this."
"Now," shouted Mr. Jones, "veer gradually


off to the left, toward my voice-all right." And
we jogged off again, stopping from time to time to
let our invisible guide explore the road.
Once more he cried, Stop a minute."
The wind roared and shrieked around us, and
it was growing colder. With a chill of fear I
thought, "could John Jones have mistaken the
road? and I remembered how four people and a
pair of horses had been frozen within a few yards
of a house in a Western snow-storm.
"Are you cold, children?" I asked.
"Yes, we 're freezing," sobbed Winnie. "I don't
like the country one bit."
"This is different from the Eden of which we
have been dreaming," I thought grimly. Then I
shouted: "How much farther, Mr. Jones?"
The howling of the wind was my only answer. I
shouted again. The increasing violence of the
tempest was the only response.
"Robert," cried my wife, "I don't hear Mr.
Jones's voice."
He has only gone on a little to explore," I
replied, although my teeth chattered with cold
and fear. "Halloo-oo!" I shouted. The an-
swering shriek of the wind in the trees overhead
chilled my very heart.
"What has become of Mr. Jones?" asked my
wife, and there was almost anguish in her tone,
while Winnie and Bobsey were really crying.
"Well, my dear," I tried to say, re-assuringly,
"even if he were very near to us, we could neither
see nor hear him."
Moments passed which seemed like ages, and I
scarcely knew what to do. The absence of all
signs of Mr. Jones filled me with a nameless and
unspeakable dread. Could anything have hap-
pened to him? Could he have lost his way and
fallen into some hole or over some steep bank.
If I drove on, we might tumble after him and per-
ish, maimed and frozen, in the wreck of the wagon.
One imagines all sorts of horrible things when
alone and helpless at night.
"Papa," cried Merton, I '11 get out and look
for Mr. Jones !"
"You are a good, brave boy," I replied. "No,
you hold the reins, and I '11 look for him and see
what is just before us."
Just then there was a glimmer of light off to the
left.


(To be continued.)


382


DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


[MARCH,






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


L I. -- -' "-


AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.*
(Recollections ofa Page in the United States Senate.)

BY EDMUND ALTON.


CHAPTER VII.
CLOSE OF A CONGRESS.
WHEN the Government gets its fingers around
anymoney, it closes them with the grip of a giant.
It goes on serenely collecting millions of dollars, but
not a cent will it expend unless Congress so de-
clare in form of law. This rule is inexorable.
No matter how just may be the claims upon its
treasury, however great may be the necessity of its
creditors or urgency of its own wants,-it cannot
buy a loaf of bread to keep the pangs of hunger
from its own door. It is as helpless as a ship-
wrecked millionaire floating aimlessly about in
mid-ocean on a broken spar. All that it can do is
to balance its bank account,-and wait for help.f
As Congress has the sole right to say what money
shall go into the national vaults, so it has the sole
right to say what, if any, shall come out. It holds
the purse-strings of the treasury, and it, alone, can
loosen them when it may see fit.
The enormous running expenses of the govern-
ment must therefore be provided for by Congress.
This is done by the yearly enactment of what


are styled the General Appropriation Bills about
twelve in number. The Legislative, Executive,
and Judicial Appropriation Bill relates to the pay
of members and employs of Congress; of the
President, and the officers and clerks of exec-
utive departments; of the Judges of the Fed-
eral courts, and various incidental expenses. The
Army, the Navy, the Diplomatic service, the
Indians,-these and other subjects are each pro-
vided for by separate bills, and a lot of odds
and ends go into the Sundry Civil Bill. As the
Congressmen are not very good fortune-tellers,
there is invariably a huge Deficiency Bill to meet
expenses unprovided for by the appropriation laws
of the preceding year. These laws provide only
for the service during a single fiscal year," and, as
they cease to operate upon the 30th of every June,
the failure of Congress to pass these annual bills
would seriously embarrass public affairs. The
President, the judges, the thousands of other offi-
cials, the law-makers themselves, would have to
go without their pay.
On account of the importance of these bills, they
are given precedence over all other measures, and,


t "No money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in consequence of appropriations made by law; and a regular statement and
account of the receipts and expenditures of all public money shall be published from time to time." CONSTITUTION, Article i, Sec. 9, Cl. 7.
Copyright, 1884, by Edmund Alton. All rights reserved.


~


383






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


from the time they are reported by the House Com-
mittee on Appropriations (which attends to their pre-
paration),* they absorb the attention of each body
almost daily during the remainder of the session.
As the Forty-second Congress was to terminate
on the fourth of March, 1873, both Houses
became very industrious after the counting of
the electoral votes in February. When the gen-
eral appropriation bills were not under consid
eration, each House occupied itself much of the
time with the calendar; "f and private and other
unobjectionable bills were passed by the wholesale,
as rapidly as the clerk could read them and the
presiding officer could put the necessary formal
questions. By a private bill is meant one for the
benefit of some individual, as distinguished from a
bill affecting the interests of the general public.
This distinction divides the laws of Congress into two
classes Private Laws and Public Laws, the latter
being also called Statutes-at-Large. And I may
here tell you another interesting fact. When a
Congress expires on a fourth of March, all the bills
and other matters left undisposed of become abso-
lutely dead. The next Congress enters upon its
work of legislation with a new and clear record
and with hands quite free; old bills must either
stay dead, or be re-introduced and go through
the customary stages of examination in order to
become laws. Some people know this to their
sorrow. I still recognize bills that have been in
Congress for years. Some of them would pass
one House and get through the other just on the
eve of the dissolution of a Congress, but too late to
get the approval of the President; and they would
have to begin over again in the next Congress, and
probably notbeableto domorethan passone House.
To expedite such matters, the President always goes
to the Capitol during the closing hours of a session,
accompanied by his Cabinet, private secretary,
and clerks, occupying a room set apart for his use
near the Senate Chamber. As fast as Acts
of Congress are submitted to him, he considers
them, and his private secretary notifies the House
or the Senate of his action concerning them, thus
saving much time.
Well, as I have said, we were in the dying days
of the Forty-second Congress, and in order that
you may form an idea of the labor of the Senate at
this time, I will give you a few statistics upon the
subject.
Let us begin with the last week in February.
The Senate met at eleven o'clock on the morning


of Monday, the twenty-fourth of that month. It
remained in session until five o'clock in the after-
noon, when a recess was taken until seven o'clock.
After re-assembling, it sat until forty-six minutes
after eleven o'clock at night. (Nearly eleven hours
of actual work.) The senators evidently obtained a
tolerably good night's rest, for they were again on
hand, at eleven o'clock Tuesday morning, ready
for business. They sat until five, took a recess for
two hours, adjourning at fifty-five minutes past ten.
(About ten hours of work.) On Wednesday, the
twenty-sixth, they assembled at eleven, took a re-
cess from five to seven, and adjourned at twenty-
four minutes after twelve o'clock. (Eleven hours
and a half of work.) Thursday, the Senate again
convened at eleven, took the usual recess, and con-
tinued in session all night long, adjourning at fifty-
five minutes past seven o'clock Friday morning, to
meet at one o'clock the same day. (A session of
eighteen hours and three-quarters, not counting the
recess.) It met at one o'clock on Friday afternoon,
took a recess at five o'clock for only half an hour,
adjourning at twenty minutes past one o'clock at
night. (About thirteen hours of severe mental ap-
plication.) On Saturday, the first of March, it met
at eleven o'clock, at five a recess was taken until
seven in the evening, at seven it re-assembled and
remained in session until twenty minutes past four
o'clock Sunday morning, when it took another
recess until seven o'clock that evening. Many of
the senators were opposed to sitting on Sunday, but
the majority considered it absolutely necessary. So,
at seven o'clock (when they would otherwise have
been preparing to go to evening church), they were
again called to order, continuing their deliberations
until fifteen minutes after twelve o'clock Monday
morning, March third, adjourning to meet again
that morning at ten o'clock instead of eleven.
These twenty hours and thirty-five minutes of work,
although made up of parts of three different days,
all belonged to the session of Saturday. This ses-
sion constituted a "legislative" day, and you thus
see that a legislative day may really consume sev-
eral of our ordinary days. It is rather confusing
to talk of the proceedings of Monday morning,
March third, as the proceedings of Saturday,
March first, but that is the way it appears in the
record.
Well, at ten o'clock on Monday, March third,
the Senate began its last day's session, that was
destined to contain nineteen hours and a half of
solid labor. At five o'clock a recess was taken


The House, with the acquiescence of the Senate, has long exercised the right to originate these bills. A spirited contest, growing out
of the deadlock on the Naval Bill, has been recently waged between the two bodies of Congress respecting this usage, or "right." The
House now claims that it is a Constitutional power, conferred by the provision as to "revenue" measures, and that the inclination of the
Senate to introduce appropriation bills is an act of usurpation.
t The "calendar" is a list of measures ready for action, upon which, unless otherwise ordered, bills and resolutions are placed, when
properly reported, to be taken up and considered in their order. 1873.


384


(MARCH,





AMONG THE LAW-MAKE


until seven. Upon re-assembling, all were indeed senator struggling with might and main to secure
kept busy. The members of the House were the consideration of this or that bill in which his
working equally as hard in the passage of bills, constituents were interested. Thus it continued all
the clerk of that body appearing in the Senate night, and at five o'clock on the morning of Thurs-


'1 I- V\i 4.


j
I''


GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON ON THE WAY TO HIS INAUGURATION. (SEE PAGE 390.)


every few minutes with a large roll of paper
and parchment, and announcing its progress in
the business of making laws. No one slept that
night. Each moment was precious, nearly every
VOL. XII.-25.


day, the fourth of March, we took a recess for four
hours and a half.
When we re-assembled, it seemed as if a ma-
gician had been at work in our absence. The


R S, 385






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


Senate Chamber was filled with chairs, one being
placed wherever there was space to hold it. A
stream of humanity was applying for admission to
the building, the doors of which were closed and
guarded by officers. Finally, when the doors were
opened, and those who had printed passes were
allowed to enter, the crowd was so great that the
galleries overflowed and the corridors became
packed with people. Evidently, something unusual
was about to happen.
But the proceedings of the Senate went on as
busily as ever, although we had to wait a few min-
utes for a quorum of senators to appear. Some of
them had become exhausted and had probably
overslept themselves.
Very soon, distinguished officers of the army and
navy, in full uniform, began to drop in quietly and
take seats in the rear of the senators' desks. At
about half-past eleven o'clock, Captain Bassett
announced the arrival of the Diplomatic Corps,
and a long line of Foreign Ambassadors filed in,
headed by Blacque Bey, the Turkish minister, and
" dean," or senior member, of the corps. They were
assigned to seats on the Democratic side of the
Chamber. They were all in court dress-dark-
colored trousers with gold bands down the outer
seams; coats glittering with bright buttons, lace,
and gold trimmings, each Ambassador wearing a
military hat, and a small straight sword like those
worn by men of the upper ranks a century ago.
Shortly afterward, in walked the Chief-justice and
the Associate Justices of the Supreme Court of the
United States, in their somber magisterial robes.
In the mean time, there were goings-on outside
of the Capitol that would have interested my young
readers. A monster procession was advancing
like a conquering army. There were soldiers on
horseback and soldiers on foot-artillery and in-
fantry; horses dragging huge cannon, and horses
dragging huge fire-engines; carriages containing
men in uniform, and carriages containing men in
citizens' attire; a platoon of mounted police, and a
battalion of marines on foot; large bodies of men
belonging to State militia, and large bodies of
men belonging to civic and secret organizations-
with and without the paraphernalia of their orders;
cadets from the Military Academy at West Point,
and cadets from the Naval Academy at Annapolis,
- the former dressed in gray, the latter in blue;
and at distances of every one or two hundred
feet were brass-bands. All these troops of men
formed one mass that filled the wide thorough-
fare of Pennsylvania Avenue; -with flags and
banners all around, raised aloft by people in the
procession, and floating from the windows and
tops of houses; the air vocal with martial music,
each band playing a different tune at the same


time. And from every direction, on the sidewalks,
accompanying this procession, and on intersecting
avenues and streets, came thousands and thou-
sands of human beings,--men, women, and chil-
dren, while everywhere, as far as the eye
could reach, were boys, boys, boys, of all sizes and
colors, "some in rags, some in tags, and some in
velvet gowns,"-all marching toward the Capitol.
But to return to the Senate. In the course of
their proceedings one of the senators offered a
resolution, which was unanimously adopted, ten-
dering thanks to Vice-President Colfax for the
manner in which he had discharged the duties
of chairman during the term in which he had pre-
sided over the deliberations of the Senate. As this
resolution was read by the Clerk, a feeling of sad-
ness swept over us all at the thought that soon the
terms of many of the senators would expire, and
that we would have to part with some of them -
perhaps forever.*
But we were too busy to stay sad. Another reso-
lution was offered and adopted, by which Senators
Conkling and Trumbull were appointed a commit-
tee to join a similar committee of the House to
wait upon the President of the United States, and
inform him that unless he had some further
communication to make, the two Houses of Con-
gress, having finished the business before them,
were ready to adjourn. Considerable business was
done, however, after the appointment of the com-
mittee. But finally it returned, and Senator Conk-
ling stated that, having called upon the President,
the committee had been informed by him that he
had no further communication to make.
After the lapse of a few minutes, Vice-President
Colfax arose, and, stating that the hour had arrived
for the dissolution of the Forty-second Congress,
proceeded, with considerable emotion, to deliver a
farewell address to the Senate. During the midst
of this address, the hands of the clock reached the
hour of twelve. Captain Bassett went to it and,
mounting a ladder, turned back the longer hand a
few minutes. This was a harmless trick that I have
often seen played since, the minute hand being
sometimes set back as much as half an hour. The
senators and the Vice-President always look inno-
cently some other way while it is being done, as if
unconscious of the act. But every one else smiles
at this subterfuge to gain time, and I think the
senators themselves smile inwardly.
After continuing his speech for a short while,
the Vice-President concluded:
"But the clock admonishes me that the Forty-
second Congress has already passed into history;
and wishing you, Senators, useful lives for your
country and happy lives for yourselves, and thank-
ing you for the resolution spread upon your Jour-


* Even as this number is going to press, the news is received of the sudden death of Mr. Colfax.


386


[MARCH,






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS. 387


nal, and invoking the favor of Him who holds the
destinies of nations and of men in the hollow of
His hand, I am ready to administer the oath of
office to the Vice-President-elect, whom I now
introduce."
Vice-President-elect Wilson thereupon stepped
forward, amid a burst of applause, and from the
Secretary's desk made a brief address; and the
oath of office was administered to him by the re-
tiring Vice-President, who then said:
"The time for the expiration of the Forty-
second Congress having arrived, I declare the
Senate of the United States adjourned sine die."*
Whereupon he gave a loud rap with his gavel
and descended from the chair. With the sound
of the gavel, his power as Vice-President of the
United States vanished into air; but before the
echo died away, Vice-President Wilson had seized
the gavel, and, dealing the desk a vigorous blow,
he exclaimed: "The Senate will come to order! "
And the instant that elapsed between the two
descents of that little piece of ivory, marked the
death of one Congress and the birth of another.

CHAPTER VIII.
AN INAUGURATION.

VICE-PRESIDENT Wilson, having taken the
chair, directed the secretary to read the procla-
mation of the President convening a special session
of the Senate. As you may wish to know what the
proclamation looked like, I will give it here in full:

"A PROCLAMATION.
"Whereas, objects of interest to the United States require that
the Senate should be convened at twelve o'clock on the fourth of
March next, to receive and act upon such communications as may
be made to it on the part of the Executive:
Now, therefore, I, Ulysses S. Grant, President of the United
States, have considered it to be my duty to issue this, my procla-
mation, declaring that an extraordinary occasion requires the Senate
of the United States to convene for the transaction of business at
the Capitol, in the city of Washington, on the fourth day of March
next, at twelve o'clock at noon on that day, of which all who shall at
that time be entitled to act as members of that body are hereby
required to take notice.
"Given under my hand and the seal of the United States, at
Washington, the twenty-first day of February, in the year of our
Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-three, and of the
Independence of the United States of America the ninety-seventh.
[Great seal of the United States.]
"By the President: "U. S. GRANT.
HAMILTON FISH,
"Secretary of State."
The secretary then read the names of the newly
elected senators- eight of the old members being
re-elected, and fifteen of the incomes being new


members. As their names were called, those who
were present came forward and the oaths were ad-
ministered to them, each senator-elect being escort-
ed to the Vice-President's desk by the ex-senator to
whose place he had succeeded. This was another
instance of that senatorial courtesy of which one
hears so much said. The roll being called, it ap-
peared that sixty-four senators were in attendance.
Here the arrival of the President of the United
States was announced, and, escorted by Senators
Cragin, Logan, and Bayard, of the Committee on
Arrangements, he was shown to a seat immediately
in front of the secretary's desk, the members of the
committee being seated on each side. His Cabinet
followed and took seats near by, facing the Vice-
President. As this party entered, a crowd of
prominent officials and guests swarmed into the
room. The House of Representatives had ad-
journed sine die at twelve o'clock. The members
of that House, and many of those elected to the
next, added to the throng, the chairs were rapidly
filled, and many persons had to stand.
A procession was then ordered by the Vice-
President to form as follows:
The Marshal of the Supreme Court.
Ex-Presidents and ex-Vice-Presidents.
The Supreme Court of the United States.
"The Sergeant-at-Arms of the Senate.
The Committee of Arrangements.
"The President of the United States and the
President-elect.f
"The Vice-President and the Secretary of the
Senate.
"The members of the Senate.
The Diplomatic Corps.
"Members of the Cabinet and the Solicitor-
General.
Ex-members of the House of Representatives,
and members-elect of the Forty-third Congress.
Governors of States.
Officers of the Army and Navy.
"Other persons admitted to the floor of the
Senate Chamber and to the reserved seats at the
left of the Diplomatic Gallery."
The column soon began to move, and would
have been truly formidable in its appearance -
with so many law-makers and dignitaries of the
Government, not to speak of the sworded Dip-
lomats, and the officers of the army and navy--
had it not been for the ladies who joined it. Their
presence, in gay creations of Fashion, and their
laughter and talking, utterly prevented that im-


*These words (translated "without day"-that is, without naming a definite day for re-assembling) mean, when applied to the
adjournment of a Congress, "forever," because every Congress, by what is known as the Constitutional limitation," must come toan
end on the 4th of March, as shown in a previous chapter. The words are also used, however, upon the final adjournment of every session,
in which case it is understood that the body will re-assemble on the first Monday of the following December unless sooner convened by
proclamation of the President. The House, for instance, did not meet again that year until December. The Senate immediately entered
on a special session, having been convened by a proclamation of President Grant.
fAs President Grant had been re-elected, the "President of the United States" and the "President-elect" were, at the inauguration
which I am describing, one and the same individual.






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


pressive and ferocious effect which I had hoped
to see produced, and to increase which I had
joined the ranks, enveloped in wrappings that
completely concealed all of me except my two eyes.
Reaching the rotunda we turned to the left and
proceeded to the platform erected over the east
and central steps of the Capitol. And there before
our view was the mass that had been congregating
during the morning the cannon and fire-engines,
horses, flags, and banners, jumbled together with
the soldiers and citizens.
Advancing to the front of the platform, General
Grant, with uncovered head, began to read an ad-
dress. I do not suppose one person in a hundred
on the stand heard a word he said. I managed--
how I can not say to get a position within a few
feet of the speaker, and yet heard very little of his
speech. What, then, could have interested that
vast concourse assembled there, braving the inclem-
ent weather, and beyond the sound of the speaker's
voice? Perched in the trees in the opposite park,
like squirrels and monkeys, were the boys,- the
woods were full of them." I could understand why
they were there, because I would have been there
myself had I not been on the grand stand. I could
comprehend also why the soldiers were there, be-
cause they had probably been ordered to be there
and had obeyed the demands of military duty. The
cannon, flags, and other inanimate and irrespon-
sible things were, of course, not to be criticised.
But I wondered what it was that had brought out so
many old and young men,-American citizens,-
not to speak of the women. It was a bitter cold
day, the piercing wind every now and then hurling
into their faces clouds of dust. Yet there they had
stood patiently waiting for hours, regardless of the
cold, each wedged fast in the surging, suffocating
crowd, treading on one another's feet, jostling one
another's elbows, and enduring pain generally.
What could have been their motive ? Surely not to
hear. Was it to see -to see a thousand people,
as miserably cold as themselves, stand, motion-
less, for a few minutes upon a board platform,
decorated with bunting, while another man moved
his lips apparently in speech? Yes, we have
guessed it. That was what it actually amounted
to. But, theoretically, it would be stated dif-
ferently it was to see a fellow-countryman
formally assume the important trust of Presi-
dent of the United States. It was mingled curiosity
and patriotism on the part of the populace; and,


on the part of General Grant, this public ceremony
was proper as an acknowledgment of the power and
supremacy of the people who had again raised him
to that exalted office.
Concluding his address with expressions of
gratitude for the honor conferred upon him, he
turned to the Chief-justice, Chase, took the oath
prescribed by the Constitution,* and, having kissed
the open Bible, he bowed to the multitude. It
was finished. A President had been inaugurated
for the twenty-second time in the history of the
Union.f As a hundred thousand throats vocifer-
ated their cheers, the persons on the platform dis-
persed, the senators returning to the Chamber
to resume the session so strangely interrupted.
The military and civic procession reorganized,
and, receiving into its line the carriage which
the President had entered, drawn by four mouse-
colored horses, it resumed its march, and, amid
the booming of guns, the ringing of bells, and
the huzzas of the people, it escorted him in tri-
umph to the Executive Mansion-his residence
for another term of four years, as the Chief Magis-
trate of the greatest and mightiest republic in the
world.

CHAPTER IX.

TWO OTHER INAUGURATIONS.

IN view of the impending inauguration on the
fourth of March (the twenty-fifth in the history of
the Government, and of the twenty-second Presi-
dent of the United States), a sketch of the first
and latest of those grandevents maybe of interest.
The installation of a President in our day does
not, after all, differ much from those of former
times. Of course, we must make allowance for
the advanced condition of the present era. The
eighteenth century was that of stage-coaches and
couriers; the nineteenth is that of railways and
electricity. Then New York was a provincial, un-
paved town; Washington city unknown; the
western portion of our country a vast, unbroken
wilderness and solitude. Now New York is the
financial center, the glorious metropolis of the
Union, one of the grandest emporiums in the
world; Washington has budded into a fairy-like
existence; the hum of industry is heard from the
rock-bound coast of Maine to the golden gate of
the Pacific. The day on which Washington was


*"Before he enter on the execution of his office, he shall take the following oath or affirmation:
"' I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my
ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.' "-CONSTITUTION, Article 2, Sec. ', Cl. 7.
1 This second inauguration of General Grant is recorded as the twenty-second, reckoned by Presidential terms of four years. He was,
however, the eighteenth President-Washington, John Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Jackson, and Lincoln, having been each
elected to a second term; and Tyler, Fillmore, and Johnson, succeeding, as Vice-Presidents, to the chair made vacant respectively by
Harrison, Taylor, and Lincoln. Vice-President Arthur, who became Chief Magistrate upon the death of Garfield, is thus the twenty-first
President of the United States.


388


[MARCH,






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


inaugurated was given up to public rejoicings, and
its evening sky was made brilliant with fire-works
and bonfires. The demonstrations on the day when
Garfield took the chair were equally sincere, and
at night the event was celebrated by pyrotechnics
and illuminations, culminating in a grand inaugu-
ral ball, attended by the President and all the
notabilities of State, and lasting to the early hours
of morning.
The first inauguration of President Washington
took place on Thursday, the 3oth of April, 1789,
in the city of New York. The ceremonies of
Washington's second and John Adams's first in-
auguration were held in Philadelphia. The seat
of government was subsequently changed, and,
since then, the inaugural ceremonies have been
conducted in the city of Washington, the oath
of office being administered (generally by the
Chief-justice of the Supreme Court), sometimes
in the Senate Chamber, at other times in the
hall of the House of Representatives, but, from
the time of Van Buren to the time of Garfield,
uniformly on the eastern portico of the Capitol.
True, there have been occasional departures from
certain formalities. Originally the oath was taken
first, the address then made; now the order is
reversed. The most serious innovations were made
by Jefferson. He was a rigid adherent to sim-
plicity. He preferred that the Committee of Con-
gress, appointed to notify him of his election,
should send the notice through the mail, as being
more in accordance with the Democratic institu-
tions of the country; he rode quietly to the Capitol
on his horse, tied it to a paling, entered the
building, and took the oath, and thereafter follow-
ed up his queer notions by sending his messages
to Congress by the first Tom, Dick, or Harry that
happened to come along. 1789 was a year of knee-
breeches; I80o a year of trousers. While we may
have preserved certain traces of this change in
the direction of simplicity, we are still as fond as
were our forefathers of martial display and cannon,
of sky-rockets and brass-bands. Let me show
you the resemblance and the difference.
Upon the close of the Revolutionary War, and
the final drafting of our Constitution in 1787,
Washington, weary of public duties and longing
for rest, retired to his beautiful country-seat on
the banks of the Potomac, determined there to end
his days. But the people were not willing to let
him gratify his fondest wish ; the ship of state had
been launched for an endless ocean cruise-they
looked to him to guide it through the perilous


waters of the bay. They elected him President
by unanimous vote, and he complied, though with
many a reluctant sigh, to their demands.
Setting out from Mount Vernon on his journey
to New York, he was everywhere greeted with the
most unbounded evidences of love and esteem.
From Alexandria to the metropolis, his route was
strewn with flowers, and the air filled with the
musical ring of bells and the deafening roar
of guns. "The old and young, women and
children," writes Irving, his namesake and biog-
rapher, thronged the highways to bless and
welcome him. Deputations of the most respect-
able inhabitants from the principal places came
forth to meet and escort him. When cross-
ing the bridge to Trenton he had to pass beneath
a triumphal arch of evergreens and laurels, erected
by the ladies of the city; while the matrons bowed
their heads in reverence, and little girls, with gar-
lands on their brows and dressed in white, threw
blossoms in his path and sang anode expressive
of their love and gratitude." "Never," says this
gifted writer, was ovation more graceful, touch-
ing, and sincere; and Washington, tenderly af-
fected, declared that the impression of it on his
heart could never be effaced."
Finally, however, he reached New York. Con-
gress then met in a building on Wall street. The
site is now occupied by one of the sub-treasuries
of the Government. Upon its entrance-steps a
statue of heroic size perpetuates in bronze the
memory of that day. The statue is of Washing-
ton the stone upon which it rests is that on which
he stood one hundred years ago and took the oath.
I will present the picture as painted by the mas-
ter hand of Irving: f
The inauguration took place on the 3oth of April. At nine o'clock
in the morning there were religious services in all the churches, and
prayers put up for the blessing of heaven on the new Government.
At twelve o'clock the city troops paraded before Washington's door,
and soon after the Committees of Congress and heads of department
came in their carriages. At half-past twelve theprocession moved for-
ward, preceded by the troops; next came the committees and headsof
department in their carriages; then Washington in a coach of state,
his aide-de-camp, Colonel Humphreys, and his secretary, Mr. Lear,
in his own carriage. The foreign ministers and a long train of citi-
zens brought up the rear.
About two hundred yards before reaching the hall, Washington
and his suite alighted from their carriages and passed through the
troops, who were drawn upon each side, into the Hall and Senate
Chamber, where the Vice-President, the Senate, and House of
Representatives were assembled. The Vice-President, John Adams,
recently inaugurated, advanced and conducted Washington to a
chair of state at the upper end of the room. A solemn silence pre-
vailed, when the Vice-President rose and informed him that ;ll
things were prepared for him to take the oath of office required by
the Constitution.
The oath was to be administered by the Chancellor of the State


389


SThe statue was, unveiled, with a few graceful words, by President Arthur in November, 1883,- the centennial celebration of "Evacu-
ation Day."
tThe account here given of Washington's inauguration is taken from Irving's Life of Washington," by kind permission of the publish-
ers, Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons.






[MARCH,


390 AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


of New York, in a balcony, in front of the Senate Chamber, and in
full view of an immense multitude occupying the street, the windows,
and even theroofs of the adjacent houses. The balcony formed a kind
of open recess, with lofty columns supporting the roof. In the cen-
ter was a table with a covering of crimson velvet, upon which lay a
superbly bound Bible on a crimson velvet cushion. This was all the
paraphernalia for the august scene.
All eyes were fixed upon the balcony, when, at the appointed
hour, Washington made his appearance, accompanied by various
public functionaries and members of the Senate and House of
Representatives. He was clad in a full suit of dark-brown cloth
of American manufacture, with a steel-hilted dress-sword, white
silk stockings, and silver shoe-buckles. His hair was dressed and
powdered in the fashion of the day, and worn in a bag and solitaire.
His entrance on the balcony was hailed by universal shouts.
He was evidently moved by this demonstration of public affection.
Advancing to the front of the balcony, he laid his hand upon his
heart, bowed several times, and then retreated to an arm-chair
near the table. The populace appeared to understand that the
scene had overcome him, and were hushed at once into profound
silence.
After a few moments Washington rose and again came forward.
John Adams, the Vice-President, stood on his right; on his left the
Chancellor of the State, Robert R. Livingston; somewhat in the
rear were Roger Sherman, Alexander Hamilton, Generals Knox, St.
Clair, the Baron Steuben, and others.
The chancellor advanced to administer the oath prescribed by the
Constitution, and Mr. Otis, the Secretary of the Senate, held up the
Bible on its crimson cushion. The oath was read slowly and dis-
tinctly; Washington at the same time laying his hand on the open
Bible. When it was concluded, he replied solemnly, "I swear -
so help me God!" Mr. Otis would have raised the Bible to his
lips, but he bowed down reverently and kissed it.
The chancellor now stepped forward, waved his hand and ex-
claimed, Long live George Washington, President of the United
States! At this moment a flag was displayed on the cupola of the
hall; on which signal there was a general discharge of artillery on
the battery. All the bells in the city rang out a joyful peal, and the
multitude rent the air with acclamations.
SWashington again bowed to the people and returned into the
Senate Chamber, where he delivered, to both houses of Congress,
his inaugural address, characterized by his usual modesty, modem-
tion, and good sense, but uttered with a voice deep, slightly tremu-
lous, and so low as to demand close attention in the listeners.
After this he proceeded with the whole assembly on foot to St. Paul's
church, where prayers suited to the occasion were read by Dr. Pre-
vost, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York,
who had been appointed by the Senate one of the chaplains of
Congress. So closed the ceremonies of the inauguration.



THE presidential candidates of 1880 were a dis-
tinguished member of Congress and a gallant
officer of the army- Garfield and Hancock. It is
of too recent occurrence to dwell upon this contest
here. The campaign was vigorous and hot; Gar-
field was elected.
The preparations for the inauguration, after
this belligerent and spirited election, were on the
grandest scale. The same gathering of troops,
of civil organizations, of private citizens, which
marked the ceremony of 1873 was again repeated.
If possible, the occasion was more remarkable;
the demonstrations more profuse and vehement.
A year before, General Garfield could have been
seen gayly sauntering along Pennsylvania Avenue,
laughing, talking, nodding his head to this ac-
quaintance and to that, without any obstruction
to his progress in the shape of a sidewalk recep-


tion. Those who did not know him personally
were familiar with his face and name. The ladies
had heard his eloquence in the House the street
urchins had seen him at the base-ball grounds,
shouting, with the eagerness of a boy, his pleasure
or dissatisfaction as the game progressed. While
a member of the House he often took occasion to
run out into the suburbs of the city to witness this
exciting sport. I remember one afternoon when
he reached the stand erected on the grounds a few
minutes after I did. I was leaning against the
front rail of the platform, and, clapping me on the
shoulder, he asked "Who's ahead?" I gave
him the information, and he thereupon became so
interested in the game that he seemed unaware
that his heavy weight upon my little body was, to
say the least, inconvenient. He was constantly
exclaiming: "Good catch!" "Fine hit!" "Oh:
what a muff and other well-known extracts front
base-ball language, and he soon grew so excited as
to make me feel the effects. I thought it wise to
move to a place of safety, and I finally succeeded
in edging away through the crowd.
Had he worn an air of haughty mystery and
exclusiveness and a perpetual frown upon his face,
many people would have looked upon General
Garfield as a wonderful genius. As it was, hi:
frank, good-natured, easy ways made him merel'
an ordinary man in their eyes and opinions. Such
is often the way of the world !
Upon his arrival in Washington as President-
elect, therefore, everybody treated him as one of
themselves"-they did not fall down and worship
him as a colossus of intellect; they received him
with open arms as a familiar friend and associate.
His sudden. elevation did not change his man-
ners in the least. His affability was the same as
ever. I saw him, only a day or two before his inau-
guration, stopped in a pelting storm by a crowd of
people anxious to congratulate him, and he was
shaking them by the hand in his hearty manner,
despite the wind and storm beating into his face, his
jovial voice speaking forth his thanks with equal
heartiness, with no gesture of impatience, unless
perhaps an occasional toss of his massive head to
shake the dripping rain-drops from his hat.
The day of the inauguration-Friday -dawned
in coldness. Snow, rain, sleet,-all vied with
each other in rendering the air damp and misera-
ble, the roads and walks unpleasant. But at about
ten o'clock, the sun came to the rescue. It broke
through the clouds, softened the vigor of the
winds, and gradually melted away the accre-
tions of the storm. The people who thronged the
streets breathed a sigh of relief. It was an auspi-
cious omen !
Soon the inaugural procession began to move


390


AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.





x88s.] AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS. 391


from the White House to the Capitol. A platoon
of mounted police in front; General Sherman and
his aids; a brass-band; some cavalrymen with
yellow plumes, and several bodies of infantry next;
the open presidential carriage, drawn by four
beautiful bays, and containing General Garfield
(with uncovered head and bowing to the plaudits
of the crowd), President Hayes, and two members
of the Senate Committee, and another carriage


tomary speeches having been made, the oath ad-
ministered, the Forty-sixth Congress having been
adjourned sine die by the retiring officer, the Forty-
seventh having been opened by the incoming offi-
cer, and the newly elected senators sworn in, the
procession was formed and the same line of march
pursued as at the inauguration of General Grant.
The spectacle presented from the eastern portico
was more imposing than of yore. The park had


I;' ~I/illj :tild' l
1 1 1 ,
(Ir' .
L Li 4


GENERAL GARFIELD ENTERING THE ROTUNDA OF THE CAPITOL, ON THE WAY TO HIS INAUGURATION.


drawn by four white horses, in which sat Vice-
President Arthur accompanied by another member
of the committee, followed by the usual long line
of soldiers and citizens, mixed up indiscriminately.
All along the route stands had been erected,
crowded by people; festoons of flags and banners
graced the front of buildings, and pennons waved
from window and from roof.
Reaching the Capitol, the distinguished mem-
bers of the party entered the Senate Chamber,
where were assembled the representatives of for-
eign powers as well as those of our own country.
Vice-President Wheeler, having introduced Gen-
eral Arthur, the Vice-President-elect, the cus-


been obliterated, and, in its stead, an open space
of lawns and concrete furnished "standing-room
only" to the assembled spectators. The applause
which broke forth upon the appearance of the
party having at length subsided, General Garfield
began his address. The eloquent words of his
opening sentence, delivered in his clear, ringing
voice, struck deep into the hearts of the people,
and they listened with rapt attention during the
remainder of the oration. It is unnecessary to
speak of the hoarse tumult of applause which
followed. Turning to the Chief-justice, he received
the oath, kissed the Book, and became the twen-
tieth President of his country.


(To be continued.)






JACK-IN -THE-PULPIT.


-," .


,
.. "^^A^^ -^:.


JACK -IN- THE -PULPIT.


THE Little School-ma'am and myself have re-
ceived a number of letters from the boys and girls
in answer to Miriam's question in the ST. NICH-
OLAS Letter-box of last August., The Little School-
ma'am begs me to show them all to you; but as
that is quite impossible in these short winter days,
we must be content to read together extracts from a
few of them. Meanwhile, we thank their friendly'.
writers and all the other young folks whose letters,
good and interesting as they are, may now be seen
only by the Little School-ma'am, your Jack, and
the birds. The information they contain is, in the
main, given in the letters which we shall here
take up.
Naturally there are some differences of opinion
expressed in these letters, for it is impossible for
so many to blow even a Golden Horn alike. But,
at all events, we shall know more about it than
we did before Miriam asked her question. Now
for the first letter. It came from two little English
girls living in London.

WHY GOLDEN HORN.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PuLPIT : When we were reading the letters
in the August number of your beautiful ST. NICHOLAs, which we in
England look for so anxiously every month, we saw the question
"Why -is the harbor of Constantinople, Turkey, called the Golden
Horn? "
We took down "The Dictionary of Phrase and Fable," off the
shelf of our father's library, and there we found that the harbor was
so called from its curved shape and great beauty.
Your affectionate readers,
ETHEL LEWIS (aged I2).
KATE LEWIS (aged 14).

SAN ANSELMO VALLEY, CAL.
DEAR JACK: I find in Champlin's "Young Folks' Cyclopuedia"
the following explanation:


In ancient times a city called Byzantium stood on the site of
Constantinople. Its fine situation gave it a large trade with Egypt
and Greece, and so rich did it become that its harbor, which" is
shaped like a horn, was called the 'Golden Horn.' "
Yours sincerely, MAY T. H.

OMAHA, NEBRASKA.
DEAR JACK: The name of the Golden Horn arose, I believe,
from its crescent shape, extending like two horns into the sea, and it
was called the Golden Horn, from the splendid palaces that line its
banks. These are for the most part roofed with copper plates,
which add to their brilliant appearance.
Your faithful reader, C. M.

WHITE PLAINS, N. Y.
DEAR JACK: De Amicis says in his book on Constantinople that
the Golden Horn is "curving like the horn of an ox; whence itsname
of Golden Horn, or horn of abundance, because through it flowed,
when it was the port of Byzantium, the wealth of three continents."
Good-bye, L. W. II.

ATCHISON, KAN.
DEAR JACIK: Constantinople is situated on the site that was in
olden times occupied by Byzantium, on the south-western entrance
of the Bosporus, upon a triangular peninsula formed by the Golden
Horn (the harbor of Constantinople), an inlet of the Sea of Mar-
mora. In olden times Byzantium was a city of great commercial
importance. It had possession of the corn traffic, and its fisheries
were very abundant. From the great wealth of the city its harbor was
compared to a horn of plenty, and from this it was called Golden
Horn.
From its harbor the city takes its name, and is therefore often called
Golden Horn. Your constant reader, NELLIE JANSSEN.

BERRIEN SPRINGS, MICH.
DEAR JACK: I could not find it in any book, but I knew an old
gentleman who had traveled considerably, and was pretty wise
generally, so I thought I would ask him. He said the Turkish
banner was called the Golden Horn on account of the crescent look-
ing like two horns with their mouths turned together. And as Con-
stantinople was the port of entry between the two Turkeys, and
the principal refuge and resting-place for vessels bearing that
banner, it was named after the banner. It was called the Golden
Horn because its (the Horn's) color was yellow.
This is the explanation my friend gave me; I think it is a reason-
able one, although it may be a wrong one.
Your true friend and reader, PAUL LEEDS.

MONTROSE, N. J., July 30, 1884.
MY DEAR JACK: Mamma takes you for me, and I enjoy reading
you very much. I was reading the August number when I saw
Miriam's question, looked it up, and found in Champlin's "Young
Folks' Cyclopaedia," of persons and places. It says: "In ancient
times a city called Byzantium stood on the site of Constantinople.
Its fine situation gave it a large trade with Egypt and Greece, and so
rich did it become that its harbor, which is shaped like a horn, was
called the Golden Horn. This old city used to stamp a crescent on
its coins, and when the Turks took Constantinople they took this
crescent for their national symbol." I will be ten years old next
November.
LAWRENCE ARNOLD TANZER.

AUBURNDALE, MASS., September 18, 1884.
DEAR LITTLE SCHOOL-MA'AM: I should like to try to answer
Miriam's question about the Golden Horn, because I have been on
it a great many times.
The Golden Horn is really a creek of the Bosporus, fed by the
waters of a small stream flowing from the European shore. In very
ancient times this name was known; but as nearly as I can find out
nobody can say exactly why the name was given.
One of the guide-books says that the name Golden Hrn may
have been given because of its beautiful curving shape, which
naturally suggests the horn of plenty.


[MARCH,


392






JACK-IN -THE-PULPIT.


Some think that the name Golden Horn was given because of the
immense wealth that was floated by ships of commerce upon its
waters; for this harbor is large enough to accommodate twelve
hundred sail at the same time, and is deep enough to float the
largest men-of-war, which can be moored close to the shore.
Still another explanation of the name is suggested by the fact that
after a hard rain, the water is of a very yellow, muddy color, which
in the sunlight sometimes really looks like shining gold.
I think I like the second reason best. Since two bridges have
been built across the Horn, not nearly so many vessels enter the
waters, but multitudes are anchored outside at the mouth.
Yours truly, FRED WILLIAMS.

DANCERS, MASS.
DEAR JACK: The harbor of Constantinople is called the Golden
Horn because of its extensive tunny fisheries in ancient times.


These are all that I can show you, my chicks;
but Deacon Green, the Little School-ma'am, ST.
NICHOLAS, and myself hereby again thank many
boys and girls for their interesting letters. To wit:


F. K. L.- Warren Floy Margaret W. Leighton--Vannah
B.-J. H. M.-Howard Crawley--Charles-J. Eddie Perley-
George A. B.-Julian Daggy-Lulu-G. K. G.-Mrs. L. A. H.
-Violet Robinson-Azalea McClees- Kinney Smith- N. O.-
S. G. Snowden-Arthur Dembitz-Palmer W.-Anna Abbott
- Clara- Emily D. Scarlett A. Marguerite "-M. Camp-
bell Stryker-Kitty Harris-Edith K. Harris-M. D. M.-G.
B. Waggener- John -Helen M. D.- Mary Nellie -Willie
M. Brydon-John R. Slater-Nannie Fraser-H. H. Eastburn


Sometime- thi.,: I :r. hrI .-:. .-. ;: |, ....r I II, .: : j .,
which v .. I.J r:,: r :..., ,. .. .... .....I rL..
also ver u, l. bl' T -.:ir ,.I-. .. ...iii .:.- d .],. ...i ,. j
brought i ., i .. o ,, -, r, -- \. rI,.a: i .:,.: .:G

b u sin e s : I..- .inr ,,I.. ,. rt r .: l.: I -, lr L. : ,- : J Ih- .
Golden H .:,-.. Tlhi.rc i rh ,- -: ,..r. I: .. Ii .. .i I- i- J J '
the truth n. .-.




D EAT ., ,.- ,-,-_-. .j: ., .I 1:
given ... ... .-i ... i .I.: .-. .; '1 I.r.r, .d
"Golde i. .. I.. .. ..i i..1i,: r in r- -.. :. .r .. .. ..- k :
theharb. t. 1 i. H .. T 'I.:.:l.


D E A 7 .L '. I ,, .l i r I. I .L ..i t.r Il '. .i -. :.i-h
of its : ... .- ...ll r. :. d ,j rl... I.,. p r [ .: -t..
a s t a g'n y 1. .;.-, r ,L : a i r Ir t.r ,r ..- .t '. -. ,1 : [ lt i : ,
m any tc o.-.:I.- Iin .. ,I-.. :. ,, r,: *. .. \:. i.: .. .I, i ..l. .', r .r .,r, n. ,r.:
easily srE...r Ir. I'- r ..:. ,r- i r. t. . ri.: r.:.: [ J
m ig h t I i n. ...: 1 .I i.: n...: i W ,'.: :. : > ,. J r..


ERIE, PA.
DEAR JACK: I am a school girl of the city of Erie, in the north-
western part of Pennsylvania, and have to work hard to find answers
to questions and get my lessons, just as Miriam in Philadelphia
does. I send as an answer to her question, "Why is the harbor of
Constantinople, Turkey, called the Golden Horn?" that a part of
the present city of Constantinople was formerly occupied by the
ancient Greek city, Byzantium. On account of its location, good
harbor, abundant fisheries, and the corn traffic between the shores of
the Euxine and Greece and Egypt it became of great commercial
importance about the third century B. c. By reason of the wealth
of its commerce the harbor of Byzantium was called the "Golden
Horn." Respectfully yours, MAUDE WHITTELSEY.


THE HARBOR OF CONSTANTINOPLE.

-E. Randolph-Mazy Styer-Nellie Little-Amy Best-F. H.
B.- Reader and Subscriber Laura Blackwood.

WHY GOLDEN GATE?
DEAR JACK : So many girls will write to you in answer to Mir-
iam's question, that I think I 'II just put in a question of my own.
The Golden Horn is well named, no doubt, and for good reasons;
but as soon as this far-east matter is comfortably settled, I should
like to know why a certain piece of land or piece of water in the far
west is called the Golden Gate ? Yours truly,
JANE ELVA B.


li ~N

6ls C --_ .' i






THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


[MARCH,


THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION-FORTY-EIGHTH REPORT.


WE are glad to learn that the kind offers of as-
sistance made to our members from time to time
are appreciated and quite generally accepted. A
young lady of California writes, I have addressed
some of the specialists mentioned in our hand-book
and have met with unfailing kindness. Naturalists
are all so kind. I think Nature, 'the dear old
nurse,' has taught them patience." On the same
subject Dr. Jones, who conducted a botanical class
for us last year, writes, under date of Dec. 29, 1884:

I have received many letters and some packages of
plants from the young botanists of the A. A., and some
of the stations from which I have received plants are
nearly two thousand miles apart. In all this region
there is not a member of the A. A. who is not likely to
discover some new species of plant. I wish our young
friends, as they collect plants, would use some scheme
like Apgar's Plant Analysis by which to note the shape,
size, color, number of parts, etc. These things are all
arranged in order in my scheme published in ST. NICH-
OLAs, beginning with July, 1883. It is very necessary
that they should be noted, for dried specimens often fail
to reveal many things that the living plant would show
at once. I venture to say that all these things are not
known in more than one-tenth of the species west of the
Missouri river. In sending plants for identification,
they should send the whole plant, or all the important
parts of it, if it is a shrub. Spring will soon be here,
and I hope our young friends from Texas to Oregon will
enter upon a campaign with the full determination to
collect every species of plant, from the minute grasses
and sedges to the great sun-flowers and trees."


MINERALOGY AND GEOLOGY.

Those of us who are studying minerals and rocks
will be grateful for the rare opportunity afforded
by Professor Alexander Winchell, of the University
of Michigan, in the following letter :

MY DEAR SIR: I am deeply interested in your
work. I will aid in any way practicable, and you
may direct persons to me for geological information.
I wonder that I had not learned more of the A. A., but I
suppose it is because I have been so absorbed in my own
work. I have always maintained that these studies are
suitable even for very young persons. A contrary opin-
ion has resulted from the lack of a proper treatment of
geology, and too much disregard for the things right
about our doors. I have tried to show that we may
step out-of-doors and begin the study of geology with the
same facility and delight as botany. Here at our feet
are the very data of geology. Let us begin here. We
can see these things and handle them. We can induce
conclusions from them, and then rise by degrees to more
general conclusions, and by and by acquire an interest in


things far away, but illuminated by these things under our
feet. But I am saying too much. My enthusiasm over a
principle in education must be my excuse. I shall be
glad to be a co-worker with you. Very sincerely yours,
ALEXANDER WINCHELL.

Memoranda.

Now that the Editor of ST. NICHOLAS has gen-
erously extended the space allotted to our Associa-
tion, it is a good time to remind the Chapters of
a few things which some of them have forgotten.
I. It is very important that every Chapter send in
its report with unfailing regularity. Do not, like
some of Caesar's captives, think that in so great a
multitude your defection will be unnoticed. True,
we now hear from most of the Chapters, and receive
far more matter than we can print; but every
really good report is preserved, and is important
material for our history, and sooner or later will
find its place. The whole Chapter should take an
interest in this and hold the secretary to his duty.
2. Do not fail to put the name and number of
your Chapter at the head of each report.
3. Write on only one side of your paper.
4. Give full address in each letter.
5. Use ordinary writing-paper, and write with
black ink.
6. Inclose postage if you wish an answer.
7. Classify your reports ; that is, write requests
for exchange, questions, natural history notes, and
report of Chapter doings and condition on separate
pieces of paper, or at least under separate headings,
as you see them in our printed report.
8. Kindly send us any articles that may be
printed regarding your Chapter.

REPORTS FROM CHAPTERS.

325, Madison, Wis. Our Chapter has had a year the most suc-
cessful of any since its birth. We have had a number of field meet-
ings, and have collected stock for our aquariums as well as for the
cabinet. Our meeting in a neighboring wood, under the guidance
of Professor Trelease, is especially to be remembered.-A. Allen,
Sec.
731, Baird's Mills, Tenn. We have increased to 9 members.
Our prospects are very bright.- H. B. Bond, Sec.
215, Tioga Centre, N. Y. This Chapter has prepared and printed
a list of about 150 plants found within a radius of 5 miles. The list
maybe had on application, and most of the plants are for exchange.
-Angie Latimer, Sec.

(Every Chapter should prepare a similar list of the specimens
it may have for exchange.)

540, Oskaloosa, Iowa. An A. A. trip was talked of for a long
time, and at last we decided to go to the river, all on horseback.
Principal' Scott, our president, volunteered to be our guard and
guide. Twelve boys and four girls started with steeds of various
colors and conditions. Dinner was carried in pockets and specimen-
bags. Our cavalcade was a constant source of surprise to the coun-
try people, who flocked to the doors to see what was the matter.
We found several good beds of fossils, and many fine specimens.


394






THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


When dinner was served, your poor scribe's edibles were found to
be a shapeless mass, on account of too close proximity to an eight-
ounce hammer, so he subsisted on hospitality. A boat ride was
taken up and down an arm of the river. As we separated to our
homes after a delightful day, many an inexperienced rider sorrow-
fully thought of the morrow.- C. L. S., Sec.
340, Portland, B, Oregon. We have decided to study electricity
as a course. We have divided the subject into three sections, viz.,
the characteristics, the effects, and the uses of electricity. Com-
mencing with the last for the next meeting, we have subdivided it
into the telephone, the telegraph, and the electric light. We have
now 20 members.- H. W. Cardwell, Sec.
553, Defiance, O. We now have a nice room, and a library of
23 books, which were given to us by persons interested in our work.
We gave a lawn fete, at which we cleared $20. Will you please
inform us where we can get a life-size lithograph of Prof. Agassiz ?
- Emmett Fisher, Sec.
(We have had so many repetitions of this request from different
Chapters that we have made arrangements by which we can furnish
such pictures to those wishing tlem.)
595, Oneonta, N. Y. In astronomy I think we have now traced
all the constellations in the celestial sphere visible from this place;
as the constellations we traced in the west when we commenced are
now rising in the east. Jessie E. Jenks, Sec.
690, Butler, Missouri. Progressing nicely. Have increased to
to members. We had an interesting time exploring five caves near
here. We very much wish to correspond with other Chapters.-
Harvey Clark, Sec.
331, New Orleans, La. Our Chapter was organized September
18, 1882, and is as bright as ever.- Percy S. Benedict, Sec.
47, Newton Centre, Mass. Our Chapter has to members, an in-
crease of 6 in six months.- P. S. Brickett, Sec.
174. Easton, Pa. Our Chapter has lain idle a long time, but four
of the old members have started it up anew. All take an interest in
the work.- Alden Marsh, Sec.
696, Manhattanville, N. Y. We are a party of little girls, nearly
all of Spanish extraction. We can all read Englishnow well enough
to understand the articles in ST. NICHOLAS, and we are very fond of
natural history.-Carmen Rosado, Sec.
195, Kentland, Ind. We have not lost our love for the A. A., but
are more interested than ever. We have collected and arranged
mosses, ferns, flowers, sea-weed, pebbles, beetles, etc., and have
made many drawings of snow-crystals. You have not heard from me
for some time because mamma and I have been to Europe. Oh,
how we enjoyed it all! On the Atlantic, we saw the sun rise and
set; we saw the phosphorescence lighting up and silvering the waves,
and the aurora far more beautiful than we ever saw it on land. It
was grand and sublime. We traveled through countries where cus-
toms are so different and villages so quaint and picturesque; ram-
bled through Versailles and the forests of St. Cloud; fed the sparrows
in the old church-yard of St. Paul, where flowers bloomed in Feb-
ruary; admired the drive through Bushey Park, where the horse-
chestnuts were in bloom, where for over two miles each side seemed
a mass of beautiful white and fragrant blossoms. We visited cities
and castles, ancient and beautiful and full of historic interest.
Although very busy with my musical studies, I had some opportuni-
ties for collecting specimens in the vegetable and mineral kingdoms.
In the museums the natural history departments were fine, and
gave me many new ideas about preserving specimens and collecting
seeds and grains. Kew Gardens, near London, is a delightful place
to study. There is every kind of plant, shrub, and tree known,
besides museumsof curiosities and polished woods. The curator was
very kind. ST. NICHOLAS is a great favorite in London, and the
reports of the A. A. were read with interest. We realize more and
more each day that God has filled the world with mystery and
beauty to excite our curiosity and invite us to study his works, and
his great book of nature is full of new and wonderful lessons.
BIRDIE BLYE, Chap. 195.
544, Oxford, Miss. We have done fair work in the way of ob-
servation. The following flowers have been analyzed, identified, and
pressed. (Then follows a list of about eighty plants.) A flying-
squirrel,i a canary-bird, a blue-jay, and a sparrow have been stuffed.
- C. Woodward Hutson, Sec.
734, Detroit, Mich. We enjoy our work very much. One ot our
members has brought a story for each meeting, in which he describes
a man watching the growth of a very interesting insect. We have
found the hand-book of very much use.-Frank Van Tuyl, Sec.
649, Chicago, V. Harry Crawford is president of our Chapter.
His father is having a new house built, and he is going to have a
room finished off for us downstairs. We are going to carpet it, have
abig cabinet made, have a large library of all kinds of books and
magazines, a stove in winter, and each of us is to have a key to the
room.-J. H. Manny, Sec.
526, Leavenworth, Kan. The father of one of the boys has com-
menced giving us short lectures on geology. One of us found apiece
of moss-agate about a mile from here. We think it quite a discovery,
for we had heard that these agates are found only in chalk forma-
tions, and there is no chalk here. At the last meeting, each member
brought his specimens of quartz or silica. There were over a hun-
dred. We take great pleasure in reading the reports in ST. NICH-
OLAS.- H. P. Johnson, Sec.


528, Huntingburg, Ind. We have our meetings regularly every
Friday. The per cent. of attendance is one hundred. Our monthly
Agassiz Companion is read by the editor, and proves to be a suc-
cess.-Hugh Robert, Sec.
468, Saco, Maine. Our Chapter was organized in April, 1883,
and is still flourishing. Just before cold weather we walked to Old
Orchard beach. One of the grown-up members wanted us to give
up, but we like it so much that we are determined to keep on.-
Genia M. Preble, Sec.
740, N. Y. S. We have eight active members, and quite a large
collection. We intend to do some good work this winter. The A. A.
is certainly a great thing for young naturalists.- H. P. Beach,
Pres.
664, Holyoke, Mass. At one of our meetings a large moth came
out of the cocoon, and we examined it. We have had a good many
debates and discussions.-R. S. Brooks, Sec.

EXCHANGES.

Soil of Pa., or N. J., for that of any other State.-Alden March,
Sec., Easton, Pa., B.
Beetles and Butterflies.- F. L. Armstrong, Sec., Meadville, Pa.,
Box 29.
Crinoid stems, cyathaxonia, and stalactites for horn-blende, trap-
rock, and greenstone.-Jessie P. Glenn, Bowling Green, Ky.
Fern impressions, fine.- Harvey Clark, Sec., Butler, Mo.
Sand and gravel (not mixed) from N. J. and N. Y., for same from
other States.-Philander Betts, Sec., Hackensack, N. J.
Henri M. Barber asks to exchange with us, but fails to give his
address.- Sec. M. B. L., Spencer, Mass.

NOTES.

146. Squirrels drinking.- In answer to the question, How can
squirrels get water in winter? They lick the ice and snow.- Clifton
S. Hunsecker, Norristown.
158, Broken eggs.--In reply to question of the Sec. of 256. I
found a chipping-sparrow's nest, containing one sparrow's egg and
one cow-bird's egg. It was evidently deserted. On the third day
I saw a crow-blackbird making a dainty meal of the two eggs. When
he had flown away, I- found the shells of both eggs on the ground
with a small hole m the side, through which the contents had been
sucked. Crows, jays, and cuckoos are equally guilty with the black-
bird.-U. S. Groff, Lancaster, Pa.
159. Insect pins.- I make my own insect pins. Take fine
needles, and head them neatly with sealing-wax.-R. S. Cross,
Sec. 601.
160. Icieria virens.- In your report for Jan., 1885, F. H. Wilcox
describes a bird that answers the description of a yellow-breasted
chat (Icteria virens; var. Longicauda).-R. M. Abbott, Trenton,
N.J.
161. Fossilfish.- One of us found the fossilized head of a fish,
not over one-third of an inch long.-P. C. Pyle, Sec. 439.
162. Strange cocoon.- I found a small cocoon under a cedar. I
opened it and found three black cocoons in it, each about three-
eighths of an inch long.-E. H. Home, Stratham, N. Y.

NEW CHAPTERS.

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
755 Ashburnham, Mass. (A)...i2..E. N. Vose, Cushing Acad.
756 Kirkwood,St.Louis,Mo.(A) 6..Miss Mary E. Murtfeldt.
757 Akron, O. (A) ............ 6..Miss Pauline E. Lane, 510 W.
Market St.
758 Philadelphia (D).......... 6..R. E. Clay, Jr., 257 S. x7th St.
759 Trenton, N. J. (C)...... 4..C. W. Temple and J. T. Tem-
ple.
760 Jamaica Plain, Mass. (B).. 4..C. S. Greene, Rockview St.

REORGANIZED.

164 Jackson, Mich. (B)........ 7..Erbert Tefft, 2x0 2d St.
156 Peoria, Ill. (A)............ 2o.. Miss Grace Bestor.

DISSOLVED.

452 Burlington, Vt. (A)........ 4..H. B. Shaw.

Address all communications for this department
to the President of the A. A.,

MR. H. H. BALLARD,
Principal of Lenox Academy,
Lenox, Mass.


395








THE LETTER-BOX.


[MARCH,


EDITORIAL NOTE.

WE hope to be able to present next month the report of the Prize-Story Committee concerning the Girls' Stories for Girls which have
been received in response to the invitation given on page 68 of ST. NICHOLAS for November, 1884.






THE LETTER-BOX.


HERE is a story composed especially for ST. NICHOLAS by a little
boy of six years. It is given in exactly his own language :

A HUNTING STORY.
ONCE upon a time there was a boy who went out hunting with
his gun in the woods, and saw a bird and a bear, and the bear was up
the tree and he took a shot at the bear the boy did and killed the bear
which frightened the bird about a 1oo0 miles away, and he went on a
little farder until he saw two roarious lions which the lions gave a
spring at him, and two other boys was behind the tree and they came
out and took a shot which killed one lion, the other boy climbed up
the tree with his gun and took a shot at the other lion which killed
the lion so the three boys went on a little farder intil they saw ten
foxes and then they pulled out three pistols which had twenty shots
in them and killed the foxes, and they took the foxes and the bear
home and the lions and skinned them and sold them to the indians for
3 dollarswhich made the cat,-when she saw them on the floor-the
skin' of those bears and those lions and those foxes -which made
her frightened very much. The doggie heard all this racket going
on and he came in and jumped on them and then they had a fight-
which a kitty jumped on the dog and made him very frightened
indeed. So the dog gave a bounce which killed the kitten and then
the boy came in with a ball and the dog and threw the ball down; and
the doggie played with it. After that the boy went out on a'wagon
to a party. Ten children was in the party, and they played games.
One game is ring around the rosey; and after their lunch they played
some more games and then they went home and that's all.
Your dear little friend, OWEN.


WE are glad to lay before our readers the following very flattering
tribute:
CLINTON, CONN., 1884.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for two months, and
never thought so much of you as I do now.
Your affectionate reader, RITA E. L.
P. S. I am ten years old.

MORRISTOWN, N. J., January, 1885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I cannot let this season of the year pass
without writing to wish you a Happy New Year," and tell you 1
am ten years old, and have been taking you for five years. The his-
torical stories I like very much, for they have given me a taste for
history.
This is my first winter in the country, and we have fine fun, my little
sister and myself, playing in the snow, sliding down hill, and all
wild country sports. We come in with rosy cheeks and very cold
fingers; but it is capital fun. I only wish all the city children could
Spend a winter in the country. JEANNIE HOFFMAN D.

PHILADELPHIA., Jan., '85.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Papa gave you to me five years ago for a
birthday present, but I have never written to you before.
I have had three birds at different times, but one died and my cat
killed the others. I have given up keeping canaries. Two other
little girls and myself are going to have a fair next spring. We have
been working for it ever since November, and hope to make a good
deal of money.
One of my Christmas presents was a pair of skates: so one day
soon after I went to a small pond near our house to try them. I
can't say my skating was a complete success though.
I think that picture in the January ST. NICHOLAS, The Cocka-
lorum is Ill," is very funny. The cockalorum looks so sad.
Your loving reader, CHARLOTTE G.

ITHACA, N. Y., January, 1885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you only this year, but
Iam very sure you are a good book, because I have read my cousin's
books. Every time I would go there I would, the first thing, read


the ST. NICHOLAS. I was always very fond of the "Spinning-
wheel" stories. I am at my cousin's house now, and we have been
very busy painting since I have been here, and we have great times
coasting and skating on the ice. I think many times, when I am
enjoying myself, how many little girls and boys have to go around
the streets, and when-night comes and we are warm, how they have
to be cold and uncomfortable. I have a little kitten, and its name
is Tessa. I named it after a little orange-girl, the story of which
was in the ST. NICHOLAS. Your new little friend, MAMIE S.

HAMPTON, VA., January, '85.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My papa has been taking ST. NICHOLAS
for ever so long, and I like it so well that I can hardly have patience
to wait for ST. NICHOLAS day to come, and when papa brings it
home, I always cry out, My first look !" Some of my friends say
you don't publish their names when they answer puzzles. I tell
them, may be their answers are wrong, and that I was going to try
you once to see. It would be too bad after the trouble.
Yours very truly, NELLIE W.
Nellie may be sure that all solutions which reach us before the twen-
tieth of the month will be acknowledged in the magazine, but in
the second number after that in which the puzzles appear. Perhaps
Nellie and her friends looked for their names in the magazine for the
following month.

NORTHAMPTON, MASS., PINE GLAYDE.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been intending to write you for a
long time, but have not succeeded until to-day. I think you are
just lovely, splendid, beautiful, magnificent, and deserve all the
adjectives of our language.
Once our class in composition had for a subject to write about
"The Magazine I Like Best," and most all the girls chose you,
dear old ST. NICK I hope you will live long and flourish in your
splendid stories. Affec. (for I do love you),
CHARLOTTE W.

HERE is a letter, in French, sent us by a little girl. Our readers
who have studied French may translate it for themselves:

ALBANY, August, Ith.
MON CHiR ST. NICHOLAS: Je pense que je veux vous ecrire une
petite lettre, en Frangais.
Je n'ai jamais allM a l'cole. Ma maman m'enseigne chez moi.
J'6tude le Frangais, l'Algebre, la Grammaire, le Latin, la lecture, la
botanique, l'6criture, et la musique.
J'ai ecrit cette lettre sans le savoir de ma mere et si vous voulez
l'imprimer dans votre magasin cheri, ii lui sera un grand surprise.
Esperant de voir ma lettre imprimee,
Je reste, votre petite amie, "BESSIE."
And as a companion-piece to Bessie's" letter, we offer to young
Latin scholars the following translation of two well-known English
verses into "fair Latin," sent to us by George W. Stearns, the
translator:
TRANSLATION.
Fuit vir in urbe Quum sentivit sese
Sapientissimusque Nunciam caecum esse,
Erat, et in spines Alteris in spines
Ruens suis oculis Ruens suis oculis
Privabatur. Potiebatur.

SCRANTON, PA., Dec., '84.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for four years, and I
think you are the best of all magazines. In one of the ST. NICHO-
LASEs there was a receipt in the Letter-box that a little girl wrote; it
was how to make a vase with a tumbler with salt and water. I


396.








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


tried it, and it was quite a success. I suppose some of your other
boys and girls read ST. NICHOLAS, and I hope they will try it. I
am ten years old. Your faithful reader, CLARE.

PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I write to tell you about an entertainment
given here by Miss Minhinnick's Kindergarten. There were about
forty children, from three to eight or nine years old. The first part
consisted of songs, choruses, nursery rhymes, and ball-play; but the
second, in which you will be most interested, consisted of your
"Three Somber Young Gentlemen." I think the best of the recita-
tions was "The Stagnant"--in which a little girl is puzzled as to
what kind of animal this "Stagnant" is. The bringing in of theyule-
log and of the boar's head was hailed with great applause, and as a
finale, Santa Claus distributed gifts to all the children. They seemed
thoroughly to enjoy the performance, and it is very certain the
audience did. The little mites sang and acted remarkably well, and
the bright dresses and bright faces of both boys and girls made a
real Kindergarten.
I cannot conclude without thanking you heartily for the monthly
treat you prepare for us. American ST. NICHOLAS beats all our
English papers hollow. Nevertheless, we English young folk can
enjoy it, so that it belongs to us in a measure.
Hoping that I have not trespassed too much on your valuable
time, believe me your sincere well-wisher, ADVENA T.


OAKLAND, CAL., Dec., 1884.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In your January number, 1885, there was
a picture entitled "The Brownies helping Jack Frost." It was
asked if any one could count the Brownies. I did, and counted
seventy-seven. I think the funniest one is the one who has fallen
from the plank with his paint-pot on top of him.
Your loving friend, MAtMIE McL.



WE thank our young friends whose names are given below, for
the pleasant letters which we have received from them, and which
we would be glad to print in the Letter-box, if there were room
for them: George Candee Gate, The Quartette, Helen B., M. D. M.,
Grace T. Gould, Alice Bidwell, Charles Piers, Katie, Arthur E.
Hyde, Jessie Caldwell, Hester Bruce, Charles W. Tague, Madge
L. Palmer, Foster Ferguson, Robbie Tallman, Florence England,
Florence E., John H. Lewis, Helen B. L., Florence J., Marion
Kellogg, Phillips Ross, Heathie Smith, A. A. D., Flossie B., Dado
England, William Calvin Reid, M. E. H., Charles H. Delany, John
Brown, Joseph Jewell, Arthur M. Chase, Daisy and Gracie, Bessie
Rhodes, Blossom, Clarence, Christine C., Birdie M., Sadie and Edith
Wattles, and E. Eames.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


CONCEALED PROVERB.
IN each of the following sentences a word is concealed. When
the words are rightly guessed, and read in the order here given, they
will form a familiar proverb.
I. A naughty cat ran away. 2. They found a closely written roll
in gathering up the rubbish. 3. It is the best one that I have ever
seen. 4. The rug at her stairway is not a valuable one. 5. He is
an old acquaintance of mine. 6. Amos soon saw through the
queer stratagem. "LADYBIRD."
BEHEADINGS.
i. BEHEAD the flesh of animals, and leave to consume. 2. Behead
barren, and leave to free from. 3. Behead long ago, and leave metal.
4. Behead close at hand, and leave part of the head. 5. Behead a
paradise, and leave a cavern. 6. Behead a contest of speed, and
leave a unit. 7. Behead to discern, and leave an emissary. 8. Be-
head a contraction meaning "in the same place," and leave to com-
mand. 9. Behead a valley, and leave a beverage.
The beheaded letters will spell the name of a well-known writer.
JOHN M. M.

ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS.




S .












I. UPPER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: i. In lapidary. 2. Equal
value. 3. A famous city of Europe. 4. A small umbrella. 5. As-
cended. 6. An heir. 7. In lapidary.
II. UPPER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In lapidary. 2. The
nickname of Philip Pirrip. 3. Part of a flower. 4. Not figurative.
5. Shaved off. 6. A boy. 7. In lapidary.
III. CENTRAL DIAMOND: i. In lapidary, 2. A siesta. 3.
Pertaining to one's birth. 4. Proceeding from the side. 5. Shaved.
6. A youth. 7. In lapidary.
IV. LOWER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In lapidary. 2. An
edge. 3. To lampoon. 4. Generous. 5. The surname of an


American naval officer prominent at the battle of Lake Erie. 6. To
deposit. 7. In lapidary.
V. LOWER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In lapidary. 2. A
small lump or mass. 3. To hinder. 4. Toiled. 5. Stopped of
covering. 6. A color. 7. In lapidary. "LYON HART."

ANAGRAMS.
EACH of the following anagrams may be transposed to form the
title of a book by a well-known American authoress.
z. Count Bemi's Clan.
2. Feloil's Text.
3. Miss Otrie on the Wing.
4. Floskton Wold.
Name of authoress,
Esther Whitoree Brace. DAISY.


4g DOUBLE DIAI. OND.
ARRANGE the ten objects pictured above in such a way that they
will form a double diamond, which is a diamond that forms new
words when read across and up and down. G. B.


397







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


[MARCH,


DOUBLE ACROSTIC. wavering. My 33is as good as five hundred. My 28-10o-3-19-3i
is a serf. My 2-5-14-17 is to repair. My 24-23-12 is a precious
MY primals and finals form the name of an illustrious painter and stone. c. B,
sculptor who was born in March.
CROSS-WORDS (of unequal length): I. Insanity. 2. The act of
making persons known to each other. 3. A steep, rugged rock.
4. The joint on which a door turns. 5. Uniform. 6. A game
at cards. DYCIE.


CUBE.


I


3 .. 4







7.. .....8
7 . 8
FROM r to 2, pertaining to iron; from 2 to 6, a state of uncer-
tainty; from 5 to 6, a small nail used by shoemakers; from I to 5,
fictitious; from 3 to 4, drawing along the ground; from 4 to 8, a
body of troops in a fort; from 7 to 8, a kind of leather; from 3 to 7,
places of amusement; from i to 3, weak; from 2 to 4, to draw up
the shoulders to express dislike; from 6 to 8, consumed; from 5 to
7, closes. CYRIL DEANE.
WORD-SQUARES.

I. s. A field-marshal's staff. 2. To expiate. 3. Batrachian rep-
tiles. 4. A flying report. 5. Habitations.
II. i. To make of a red-color. 2. Possessor. 3. Beneath. 4.
Domestic fowls. 5. Strayed.
The first word of each of the foregoing word-squares, when read
in connection, will name a city of the Southern States.
"ALCIBIADES."

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I AM composed of thirty-three letters, and form a proverb.
My 30-9-22-29-18-3 is a thief. My 8-16-26-6 is part of the face.
My 15-32-21-I is a piece of pasteboard. My 25-27-20-1-7-4 is not


-~

BY starting at the right letter in one of the foregoing written
words, and then taking every third letter, a maxim by Poor Richard
may be formed. H. V.
AN OCTAGON.









i. Woolly substance on cloth. 2. In Rome, a public place where
orations were delivered. 3. Part of the face. 4. One skilled in any
art. 5. Followed. 6. Very minute spiders. 7. Induced. F. s. F.


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER.
A FEBRUARY PUZZLE. Valentine. Cross-words: i. hiVes. 2. HOUR-GLASS. Cape May. Cross-words: i. chiCken. 2.
chAin. 3. baLls. 4. crEam. 5. caNes. 6. miTts. 7. knIfe. frAme. 3. aPe. 4. E. 5. AMy. 6. grAce. 7. praYers.
8. riNgs. 9, chEss. COMBINATION ACROSTIC. From I to 9, message; from 2 to 1o,
MONUMENT PUZZLE. From i to 2, Devisor; 3 to 4, Nominated; fortune; from 3 to ix, parable; from 4 to 12, chariot. Letters from
5 to 6, Relents. Cross-words: I. N. 2. Rod. 3. Demur. 4. 5 to 8, tars, rats, arts, star.
Elide. 5. Venal. 6. Image. 7. Satan. 8. Overt. 9. Rides. BEHEADINGS. Spenser. Cross-words: I. S-cow. 2. P-act. 3.
WORD-SQUARE. I. Great. 2. Rondo. 3. Endow. 4. Adore. E-spy. 4. N-ice. 5. S-can. 6. E-wry. 7. R-eel.
5. Tower. CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Pittsburgh.
CHARADE. Can-did. ILLUSTRATED DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Cupid; finals, Blind.
AN "AGED" PUZZLE. i. Pupilage. 2. Bondage. 3. Usage. Cross-words: i. CraB. 2. UraL. 3. PerI. 4. IroN. 5. DeeD.
4. Homage. 5. Patronage. 6. Brokerage. 7. Rummage. 8. DOUBLE DIAGONALS. Grapnel, trapped. Cross-woods: i. Gal-
Anchorage. 9. Pillage. ro. Average. sI. Tillage. 12. Shrink- lanT. 2. pRepaRe. 3. AlAbAma. 4. proPose. 5. dePeNds.
age. 3. Diage. 3 page. 14. Fruitage. 6. dEcidEd. 7. DespoiL.
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 ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE DECEMBER NUMBER were received, too late for acknowledgment in the FEBRUARY number,
from Fred Thwaits -Francis W. Islip, England Hugh and Cis, England.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE JANUARY NUMBER were received, before JANUARY 0s, from Harry M. Wheelock- Trebor
Treblig-Harry F. Phillips-The Knight Family- Maggie and May Turrill Francis W. Islip- No Name, New York- Shumway
Hen and Chickens."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JANUARY NUMBER were received, before JANUARY 20, from J. S. S., A. and S. Livingston, 1-
Lillian Osborne, Howard and Joe, 6- Max Neuburger, x- E. H., i-Willie Hutchinson, 3 Carrie Willcox, Anton Heger, and
Charles Wilkinson, ux Clara L. Powers, 2 Fanny Rowley, I- "Vici," 3 Sam and Gertie, 2- Fred and Gill," 8 Blanche Dag-
enais, Paul Reese, 13-Tiny Rhodes, r-"Puss and Hebe," 5- Maud Sherwood, 9-Helen Lanahan, 3- "Prince Hal," 6-
Katie Throop, i- Arthur W. Booth, -May Thompson, 3-G. A. B. and G. L. M., 7- Helen B. L., i-Helen W. Gardner, 3-
Celia Loeb, x-Florence E. and Mabel L., i-Anna Schwartz, 3-Alice R. Douglass, 3-Jennie F. Balch, 12-A. L. Zeckendorf, 2
-Will Wells, Howard Wells, r Effie K. Talboys, 7- "Pepper and Maria," 12-Josephine Casey, 7- Ethel Matterson, -
Laura C. Reeves, 6-Ida Maude Preston, 13-Elizabeth Groesbeck, i-D. C., 5-Yara, --Jessie B. Mackeever, 6-May Rogers, 2
--"Romulus and Remus," 5- B. B Y. V. of 0., 6- Lettie and Edith S.. 4 Nellie Wood, 5 Mamma and Nona, 7- Petsy and
Beatie, 8 -Lillie Parmenter, 7 Daisy and Mabel, 4 -E. B. R., xo- "A. B. C.," 2 Sadie and Bessie Rhodes, o Louise G. B., 2 -
Belle and Stewart, 9 Maggie B. Brown, i Phil. O. Sophy, 9- Elizabeth Hardee, 2- Edith M. and Charlotte G. Pomeroy, 9 Ted
and Ote, 5-George Habenicht, 4-" Chimpanzee," 7- Olive, Ida, and Lillie Gibson, 6-Alice Westwood, so- Tiny Puss, Mitz and
Muff, 13- E. Muriel Grundy, 9 Mathilde A. Morgenstern, 2 Bob Howard, 6-" (Edipus," 5 M. M. S. M. V. B., 7 Fanchon,
x-Arthur E. Hyde, 8-James Connor, 4-Appleton H., nI- Myra Hunnewell, 4-Lucy M. Bradley, 13-Willie Sheraton, 8-
"Pirnie," 9 -Hallie Woods, 4- Ida and Edith Swanwick, bx.





'OR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


FLY THE FEATHERS !"

A SNOW-STORM JINGLE.

THERE was a little boy named Rob. He had a brother John and a
brother Ned, and one day they said to him: Come, Rob! It is snow-
ing hard. Bring your sled, and we will be your horses!"

II.
Here we hurry
St Up the hill;-
SHo! my horses,
Whoa be still!
Down the hill,
I- -Upset the sleigh;-
Stop, my horses!
Stop! I say.

Jingle Jingle,
FLY the feathers; Off they go !
Catch the geese! Stop my horses-
Buy the bells, Whoa there! 0!
A cent apiece!
Feathers flying -
Snow to-day;
Hitch the horses.
To the sleigh!


Jingle Jingle,
In the sleigh;
Hitch the horses
To the sleigh!


,885.1 F


399






400 ST. NICHOLAS. [MARCH


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SOETIN T. A- GOOS oP O

SOMETHING BETWEEN A GOOSE AND A PEACOCK.































































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