• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 In September
 Sheep or Silver?
 The dreamland sheep, a charm
 The battle of the third cousin...
 Bonnie Jean
 The little gray pocket
 The terrible Jack-knife
 His one fault
 From Bach to Wagner
 My sweetheart
 A September day (picture)
 Driven back to Eden
 The owl, the pussy-cat, and the...
 Spiders of the sea
 A great financial scheme
 By the sea (picture)
 Among the law-makers
 Lady Golden-Rod
 How Paul called off the dog
 The jaunty jay
 Nicknames
 The children of the cold
 The inventor's head
 Daisies
 Little peek-a-boo (words and...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 For very little folk: Little Red...
 The letter-box
 The Agassiz association - Fifty-third...
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00161
 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: VID00161
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
        Page 802
    In September
        Page 803
    Sheep or Silver?
        Page 804
        Page 805
        Page 806
        Page 807
    The dreamland sheep, a charm
        Page 808
    The battle of the third cousins
        Page 809
        Page 810
        Page 811
        Page 812
        Page 813
        Page 814
        Page 815
    Bonnie Jean
        Page 816
        Page 817
        Page 818
    The little gray pocket
        Page 819
    The terrible Jack-knife
        Page 820
    His one fault
        Page 821
        Page 822
        Page 823
        Page 824
        Page 825
        Page 826
    From Bach to Wagner
        Page 827
    My sweetheart
        Page 828
    A September day (picture)
        Page 829
    Driven back to Eden
        Page 830
        Page 831
        Page 832
        Page 833
        Page 834
        Page 835
        Page 836
        Page 837
        Page 838
    The owl, the pussy-cat, and the little boy
        Page 839
    Spiders of the sea
        Page 840
        Page 841
        Page 842
        Page 843
        Page 844
        Page 845
    A great financial scheme
        Page 846
        Page 847
        Page 848
        Page 849
        Page 850
        Page 851
    By the sea (picture)
        Page 852
    Among the law-makers
        Page 853
        Page 854
        Page 855
        Page 856
        Page 857
    Lady Golden-Rod
        Page 858
    How Paul called off the dog
        Page 859
    The jaunty jay
        Page 860
    Nicknames
        Page 861
        Page 862
        Page 863
    The children of the cold
        Page 864
        Page 865
    The inventor's head
        Page 866
        Page 867
    Daisies
        Page 868
    Little peek-a-boo (words and music)
        Page 869
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 870
        Page 871
    For very little folk: Little Red Hen
        Page 872
        Page 873
    The letter-box
        Page 874
        Page 875
    The Agassiz association - Fifty-third report
        Page 876
        Page 877
    The riddle-box
        Page 878
        Page 879
        Page 880
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text







































































A TRIP AROUND THE WORLD.


















ST. NICHOLAS.


VOL. XII. -SEPTEMBER, 1885. No. II.

Copyright, 1885, by THE CENTURY CO.



IN SEPTEMBER.

BY ELIZABETH COLE.

MORNINGS frosty grow, and cold,
Brown the grass on hill and wold;
Crows are cawing sharp and clear
Where the rustling corn grows sear;
Mustering flocks of blackbirds call;
Here and there a few leaves fall,
In the meadows larks sing sweet,
Chirps the cricket at our feet,-
In September.

Noons are sunny, warm, and still;
A golden haze o'erhangs the hill,
Amber sunshine's on the floor
Just within the open door;
Still the crickets call and creak,-
Never found, though long we seek,-'
Oft comes faint report of gun;
Busy flies buzz in the sun,-
In September.

Evenings chilly are, and damp,
Early lighted is the lamp;
Fire burns, and kettle sings,
Smoke ascends in thin blue rings;
On the rug the children lie;
In the west the soft lights die;
From the elms a robin's song
Rings out sweetly, lingers long,-
In September.







804


CHAPTER VII.

THE SECRET OF THE GREAT CANON. -

THE wedge-like ravine
into which Uncle Cy-
rus and Waldo had en-
tered ran down among
the rocks to a little
river which Waldo,
as he thought of the
dear home faces in
the midst of all this
dreariness, at once
named the "Hessie," because, as he explained
to his uncle, "it makes such a to-do,-dashing,
bubbling, foaming, telling everybody everything
it knows -for all the world like our Hessie -God
bless her!"
Remembering Hungry Wolf's directions, they
turned at the water's edge and toiled due north
and north-west up the river's bed and bank. It was
the hardest sort of traveling; now they would
have to step from one slippery stone to another,-
now to wade in the water, now to take to dry land on
one side or the other as they were able,- for it was
a very shallow stream. As they went, they care-
fully studied every inch of the rocky wall on either
side, for they were penetrating into the very heart
of the mountain, and were being walled in more
and more at every step.
They had gone on in this way several hours,
studying the bed of the creek and the pockets, or
small cavities, in the granite walls, for indications
of metal, when suddenly the cation seemed to close
in so completely as to stop all further advance.
Trapped? asked Waldo, with a glance up the
pitiless walls of that terrible ravine.
"Dead tired, at any rate," said Uncle Cyrus;
and with scarce a word to each other, they boiled
their coffee, ate a few mouthfuls of supper, and
crouching at the bottom of the cation, fell asleep,
and in that comfortless, forlorn, and forsaken spot
they slept until morning.
Well, Waldo," said Uncle Cyrus, trying, after
breakfast was over, to put the best face possible
on the matter, all we can do now is to go back.
Sheep-raising may be a slow business, but it is an
easier one than this, and much more certain.
I 'm at the end of my rope. This was our last
chance at Hungry Wolf's treasure, and it's as


deceptive as all the others. Come on, my lad;
we have done our level best, and the back track is
a long and tedious one -but it must be traveled."
Waldo battered with indignant desperation
against the towering walls of the cation, as if he
would have beaten a way through.
"Wait, wait, Uncle! he begged; "this can't
be the end. Hold on a minute till I make one
last attempt."
He ran to the farthest end of the ravine. Then
suddenly he stopped.
"A break, a break!" he shouted. "Come along,
Uncle i "
Uncle Cyrus hurried to the spot, but almost
before he reached it, Waldo had disappeared into a
hole in the stone wall, not much larger than a bar-
rel, and as dark as pitch. Plunging in after his
nephew, Uncle Cyrus followed him on hands and
knees, as the tunnel turned now this way and now
that.
"Light-light ahead!" at last cried Waldo,
and as he spoke a glimmer did penetrate into this
subterranean passage, which, after a half-hour's
tedious crawling, opened out finally into quite a
broad space.
But here the cation had closed up in real
earnest. This was the end. On the left there was,
however, a kind of split in the rocks running
upward.
There was nothing to do but to try it. Up and
up and up the fissure ran, and up and up and up
the two clambered through the close, hot heart of
the rocks to air and daylight. At last they came
out upon a plateau on the very top of the mount-
ain. It was a tract of not more than six or eight
acres, so walled in that no man could have reached
it in any other way than by the subterranean pas-
sage, except by a series of ladders on the outer side.
Completely tired out by their toilsome tramp
and climb, they threw themselves down on the
rocks, enjoying the cloudless sky and the pure air
that blew in their faces. Then gathering some
of the dry moss that grew in the rocks, they made
a fire and prepared their breakfast of coffee and
jerked venison.
Mindful only of the grand view of the great
Sierras that lay stretched before him, Waldo stood
by the parapet of rock, silentand thoughtful, when
he was startled by hearing Uncle Cyrus give so
loud and so sudden a yell that he was certain a bear
or an Apache was near at hand.


[SEPTEMBER,


SHEEP OR SILVER?



SHEEP OR SILVER?

BY WILLIAM M. BAKER.









SHEEP OR SILVER? 805


He looked around. Uncle Cyrus was sitting in
a bed of black mold, and actually crying !
"What is it, Uncle?" asked Waldo, running
toward him. A snake-bite?" And the whisky-
flask was produced as an antidote. But Uncle
Cyrus, pushing it away, began to take up handfuls
of the black mold, and let it run through his fin-
gers as children do sand on the sea-shore, while all
the time the big tears ran down his cheeks, and he
spoke not a word.
Waldo was puzzled. Then a terrible thought
came to him. Had his uncle gone crazy through
grief and disappointment ?
"What shall I do ?" he thought. How shall
I ever get him home or anywhere ?
You poor, dear Uncle," he said, patting him
soothingly on the back as we sometimes do with peo-
ple who are very weak. Come, come with me."
You young ignoramus!" broke out his uncle,
almost indignantly, turning up his tear-stained
face; can't you understand? Feel that! and he
scooped up a great handful of the black dirt and
thrust it into Waldo's palm. "Feel that, I say!
We 're rich! We 're rich, boy! It's silver "
That black dirt-silver Waldo dropped on his
knees by his uncle's side. It was only a black
mud dried up into a kind of gritty dirt; and there
were acres of it. Then he remembered to have
heard that the effect of thousands of years of heat
and cold and rain upon the silver-bearingrock was
to pulverize it to coarse black dust, which only
needed to be treated with acids to bring out of
that filthy black mass the silver- pure, white,
and beautiful. And when he, too, saw those acres
of wealth all around them, and knew that their
long months of striving had not been in vain, he
flung his arms around his uncle's neck and cried too.
Excess of joy often unmans the stoutest heart.
"But can this be Hungry Wolf's treasure,
Uncle? demanded Waldo, after the first transports
of joy were past.
Not a bit of it, Waldo," Uncle Cyrus replied.
"How could an uneducated Indian know that this
black dirt is full of silver? This is our own es-
pecial find; but I am confident, too, that Hungry
Wolf's mine is not far away; and, as this claim is
ours, we are now in a position to put the search
for his treasure in competent hands, and share in
the result-- if a successful one is reached."
And this they did. By careful climbing and
many risky descents, they contrived to get down
from their rock-circled plateau, dropping down on
the outside of the mountain, instead of attempting
the cation and the tortuous under-ground passage.
They carefully located their claim, hurried down
the mountains to Prescott, and took legal steps to
secure their find," carrying with them metal


enough for a satisfactory assay. Then they sold
their claim to a San Francisco company of mining
operators, reserving plenty of shares as their own
property. In all these matters, Uncle Cyrus was
in his element, demonstrating how readily the ore
could be shot down the mountain in long flumes,
entering into all the details of the scheme, driving
a strict bargain with the San Francisco firm, ar-
ranging with other prospectors to make a thor-
ough search for Hungry Wolf's treasure, and stip-
ulating for a large share in the profits,from this,
if found. Then, when all was arranged fully and
beyond any chance of loss or business treachery,
he said to his nephew: "And now, Waldo, for
the Lampasas and home."

CHAPTER VIII.

SHEARING-TIME.

HIs, of course, happened after
Waldo and his uncle had
been away a little more
than a year; and now
the Edwards house-
hold, at the earnest
solicitation of the Frier-
sons, had come to make a visit
to the sheep ranch on the Lampasas. The
result was that Harry Edwards became so
enthusiastic a believer in sheep that he bought for
his mother several thousand acres adjoining the
Friersons', and he had long talks with Ruthven as to
the best breeds and all the details of the business.
One day, early in May, after they all had been
discussing the subject in the shade of a great live-
oak near the house, and had been fully informed
by Ruthven as to the relative value and relative
increase in stock and wool and meat, they all ac-
companied him to the shearing-place on the creek,
where the sheep were being washed and sheared.
It was but a rude affair. A hurdle-pen had
been built, from which ran a kind of plank canal.
Japero, the Mexican, stood waist-deep in the run-
ning water, catching, scrubbing, and rubbing each
sheep as it was driven in to him by old Jock, who
overlooked everything. In a shed on the bank
were the professional shearers, who make it a reg-
ular business to go from ranch to ranch, and
shear the sheep at the rate of from two to five
cents for each sheep sheared. Seizing upon a
sheep, the shearer laid its neck across his left
knee, its right side against his body, the fore-
legs held firmly beneath his arms. By a rapid
movement the fleece was opened up and down
the stomach, and the wool closely sheared away
from the body and around as far as the hand could


805


SHEEP OR SILVER?






SHEEP OR SILVER?


go. The animal was then turned to the other
side, which was sheared in the same manner, and
the fleece laid upon the table. A second clipping
is never made, as the value of the wool lies alto-
gether in the length of the clip. With a quick
movement, a boy at the shearing-table turned back
upon itself first the tail and then the head of the
fleece, then the flanks, and in a twinkling a new
fleece was tied up and added to the pile.
"Why, it is like working by machinery," ex-
claimed Madge Edwards. How can they do it
so fast?"
Practice makes perfect," Ruthven explained.
But how niiserable the poor sheep look after
they have had their jackets stripped off," Barbara


fair to tell you that there is almost as much trouble
with sick sheep as with sick children. Jock has a
perfect drug-store, with his ginger, gentian, castor-
oil, aniseed, rhubarb, gin, laudanum, and linseed-
oil. Sheep are really the feeblest of animals, and
are subject to every disease you can think of. But
Ruthven has proved them to be worth all the risk,
and a sure and steady source of increase and profit."
Next day the entire household strolled out on
the prairie, after dinner, to where old Jock was
herding his newly shorn flock. Even Don Quixote
had lost with his magnificent fleece part :of his
patriarchal bearing, but all were nibbling away
with their customary haste, as if the sun would be
down before they could get enough.


"JAPERO STOOD IN THE RUNNING WATER, CATCHING EACH SHEEP AS IT WAS DRIVEN DOWN TO HIM."


Edwards said, and then added, "and what do you
do with the wool?"
"It goes through that hole in the floor," Ruth-
ven replied, and into a big sack. This sack, when
filled, is sewed up and the wool is sent to mar-
ket. When it reaches the hands of the manu-
facturers, it is carefully sorted over. One kind
is used for blankets, another for shawls, a third
for yarns, a fourth for flannels, and so on. It is
astonishing how many different things are made
of wool."
But are your sheep all profit and no trouble ?"
Mrs. Edwards inquired.
By no means," Mrs. Frierson said. "It is only


A more pastoral scene it was impossible to im-
agine. The air of the May evening was soft and
balmy. The rim of hills, thirty or forty miles away,
was now growing purple in the declining light.
Except for a few flecks of fleecy white in the deep
blue overhead, the sky was without a cloud; while
the living green of the live-oaks and the cotton-
wood trees contrasted softly with the ever-varying
and innumerable shades of verdure through which
the grass changed in waving pulsations.
There was beauty, peace, stillness everywhere,
and the grazing sheep only helped to complete the
picture of rest and contentment. Suddenly the
four girls, who were strolling on in advance of the


806


[SEPTEMBER,







885s.] SHEEP- OR SILVER? 807


two mothers, saw riding swiftly toward them two
ragged-looking men mounted on mustangs.


\- XN$%Q


SHEARING THE SHEEP.


Accustomed as all were to seeing men in the
roughest garb, these were so very uncouth and
disreputable in appearance, from the floppy old hats
on their heads to the well-worn boots on their feet,
that the girls drew timidly back; but only for an
instant. The next moment came a scream from
Bessie, and flying forward, to the horror of all the
rest, she rushed frantically up to one of the riders,
who before they could interfere was bending down
from his saddle, and actually hugging and kissing
Bessie with all his might.

CHAPTER IX.

SHEEP OR SILVER?

WE of course know who the two strangers were;
-Waldo and Uncle Cyrus, home again after their
search for the hidden treasure.
We had hoped to steal in without being seen,"
Uncle Cyrus apologized, and to have fixed up at
least a little before showing ourselves. If I can get
Waldo out of this trap, we will do so yet."
Waldo, however, seemed fairly trapped in the
embraces of mother and sisters, and forgetful of
his forlorn appearance. So Uncle Cyrus, grown
plumper and ruddier than ever, seized him about
the waist, fairly lifted him from his feet, and bore
him away toward the cabins. Hessie ran like the
wind to tell Ruthven, while Mrs. Frierson and
Bessie walked after the two returned prodigals in
a tumult of joy.
Although it was lamb and beef instead of fatted


calf which was spread before them at supper, never
were wanderers more joyously received. Every-
body was talking and laugh-
ing; no one seemed to be
Qlistening, and it was some
time before Waldo could
get a fair hearing.
Let us go out into the
moonlight," he said, when
the meal was at last ended.
"Uncle Cyrus and I are
not used to being boxed
up in houses; nothing less
than all out-of-doors will
suit'us. But you are sure,"
he said, pausing as he stood
by the table, "that, poor,
miserable, and unfortunate
ne'er-do-wells as we two are
S-you are sure you are as
glad to see us as if we had
come back rich ?"
If Uncle Cyrus had in-
creased in breadth, Waldo
also had grown in stature and rugged health;
and his mother and sisters looked at him in fond
admiration.
Poor as we are," he repeated, in pathetic
tones, "willful spendthrifts, thrown back upon you
as worthless idlers, you are sure you do not de-
spise us ? "
S"0 Waldo! how can you?" exclaimed his
mother and sisters; and Ruthven grasped his
brother's hand with so firm a grip that Waldo
was compelled to draw it away in pretended pain.
Then out into the open air they all went, and
while the moon shone brilliantly down upon the
slope before the cabins, and the gentle breeze was
heavy with the peculiar scent of the ocean of mes-
quit grass that stretched away to the south-Waldo,
tall, vigorous, and earnest, told his story, while
Uncle Cyrus added an occasional word, and all
the company, even to old Jock, who, for this occa-
sion only, had been lured away from his sheep,
listened intently.
He told of their hopes and fears, of their labors
and losses, of their wanderings, their deprivations,
their discouragements, and their utter disgust with
the slavish, feverish, peace-destroying life of a
silver-hunter. Then of their last endeavor, of the
awful cation in the Cerbat hills, the under-ground
passage and the high plateau, ending his story with
the climax of Uncle Cyrus's apparent insanity,
and the acres of black dirt that was full of purest
silver, wealth, and victory.
And with this unexpected ending of the travelers'
story, what a chorus of congratulations went up







THE DREAMLAND SHEEP: A CHARM.


from all the company! While Mrs. Frierson, through
a mist of joyful tears, said to her-son, as she folded
him in her arms:
Oh, my boy, my boy, you are better and
dearer to me than all the silver of Arizona "
"Yes, Bessie," said Uncle Cyrus, "it means
victory for us at last, as I had hoped from the very
first. But it means, too, a life of toil and disap-
pointment that will wear out the stoutest heart.
I tell you, good people," he added, with sudden
energy, "the honest miller whose grist-mill clacks
all day on a little stream in the obscurest country
place among the hills, is a happier man, in his
floury clothes, helping his neighbors put their
meal-bags on their old' horses, than the men who
grind out gold and silver in a feverish, restless, too
often rascally life. No son or brother of mine
should go into it, so full of risk and demoralization
is it. I know I have been in it, and so has Waldo,
but we 've sworn off; have n't we, Waldo ? "
"Well, I have, Uncle," said Waldo, "and so,
you say, have you. Although I must say I should
n't be surprised to see you try it again when you


are rested, you know. Uncle Cyrus, ladies and
gentlemen," he added, "is, as you all know, of
a roving temperament; but, as you also know,
I am of a quiet, stay-at-home, strictly domestic
character,"-here everybody laughed. Oh, you
may laugh, but it 's so Uncle may go; I will
not. Sheep forever for me and my mother "
But you must not think," Uncle Cyrus said,
after plans and purposes and the future had been
talked over late into the night, and all were turned
toward the house again, you must not think that
our discovery is any very great thing. We shall
make some thousands out of it not hundreds of
thousands."
"We shall get as much as we need for our pur-
poses," Waldo said. At present my purpose is
to stick as closely as I can to the Lampasas. Sil-
ver is very well in its way, but from this hour,-
hear ye, 0 thou beautiful Moon and still more
beautiful Mother! he said in mock heroics, his
hand in air,-" hear ye my vow! When it is a
question of Sheep or Silver for me -I intend to
make it Sheef forever "


THE END.


THE DREAMLAND SHEEP A CHARM.

BY MARY L. B. BRANCH.


WHEN, tossing on your restless bed,
You can not fall asleep,
Just resolutely close your eyes,-
See a field-path before you rise,
And call the dreamland sheep.

They come, they come, a hurrying crowd,
Swift-bounding, one by one;
They reach the wall in eager chase;
The leader finds the lowest place;
They cross, and on they run,

Oh many times on sleepless nights
I watch the endless throng,
Their pretty heads, their woolly backs,-
As crowding in each other's tracks
They press and race along.


At the wall-gap, each plants its feet
On one stone-standing still,-
Makes its small leap like those before,
Then with its mates, score after score,
Goes scampering down hill.

I try to count them, but, each time,
Lose reckoning at the wall.
They come from where, the gray mists blend, -
In mist they vanish at the end,
With far, faint bleat and call.

Off drop the day-time cares. Away
The nervous fancies fall;
And peacefully I fall asleep,
Watching the pretty dreamland sheep
Crowd through the dreamland wall.


[SEPTEMBER,







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.
A Fanciful Tale.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.


THERE were never many persons who could
correctly bound the Autocracy of Mutjado. The
reason for this was that the boundary line was not
stationary. Whenever the Autocrat felt the need
of inoney, he sent his tax-gatherers far and wide,
and people who up to that time had no idea of such
a thing found that they lived in the territory of


small. As none of these were of the slightest
benefit, the learned doctor produced another
kind of medicine which he highly extolled.
"Take a dose of this twice a day," said he,
"and you will soon find --"
A new medicine ? interrupted the Autocrat, in
disgust. "I will have none of it! These others


"THE LEARNED DOCTOR PRODUCED ANOTHER KIND OF MEDICINE."


Mutjado. But when times were ordinarily prosper-
ous with him, and people in the outlying districts
needed protection or public works, the dominion
of the Autocrat became very much contracted.
In the course of time, the Autocrat of Mutjado
fell into bad health and sent for his doctor. That
learned man prescribed some medicine for him;
and as this did him no good, he ordered another
kind. He continued this method of treatment
until the Autocrat had swallowed the contents of
fifteen phials and flasks, some large and some


were bad enough, and rather than start with a new
physic, I prefer to die. Take away your bottles,
little and big, and send me my secretary."
When that officer arrived, the Autocrat informed
him that he had determined to write his will, and
that he should set about it at once.
The Autocrat of Mutjado had no son, and his
nearest male relatives were a third cousin on his
father's side, and another third cousin on his
mother's side. Of course these persons were in
nowise related to each other; and as they lived in


809







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


distant countries, he had never seen either of them.
He had made up his mind to leave his throne and
dominions to one of these persons, but he could
not determine which of them should be his heir.
One has as good a right as the other," he said
to himself, and I can't bother my brains settling
the matter for them. Let them fight it out, and
whoever conquers shall be Autocrat of Mutjado."
Having arranged the affair in this manner in his
will, he signed it, and soon after died.
The Autocrat's third cousin on his father's side
was a young man of about thirty, named Alberdin.
He was a good horseman, and trained in the arts
of warfare, and when he was informed of the terms
of his distinguished relative's will, he declared him-
self perfectly willing to undertake the combat for
the throne. He set out for Mutjado, where he
arrived in a reasonable time.
The third cousin on the mother's side was a very
different person. He was a boy of about twelve
years of age; and as he had neither father nor
mother he had been for nearly all his life under
the charge of an elderly and prudent man, who
acted as his guardian and tutor. These two, also,
soon arrived in Mutjado,-the boy, Phedo, being
mounted on a little donkey, which was his almost
constant companion. As soon as they reached the
territory of the late Autocrat, old Salim, the tutor,
left the boy at an inn, and went forward by himself
to take a look at the other third cousin. When he
saw Alberdin mounted on his fine horse, and look-
ing so strong and valiant, his heart was much
disturbed.
I had hoped," he said to himself, "that the
other one was a small boy, but such does not ap-
pear to be the case. There is only one way to
have a fair fight between these two. They must
not be allowed to see each other. If they can be
kept apart until my boy grows up, he will then be
able, with the military education which I intend
he shall have, to engage in combat with any man.
They must not meet for at least seventeen years.
Phedo will then be twenty-nine, and, more than
that, the other man will be somewhat middle-aged,
which may be an advantage to our side. To be
sure, I am pretty old myself to undertake to super-
intend so long a delay, but I must do my best to
keep well and strong, and to attain the greatest
possible longevity."
Salim had always been in the habit of giving
thirty-two bites to every mouthful of meat, and a
proportionate number of bites to other articles of
food; and had, so far, been very healthy. But
he now determined to increase the number of bites
to thirty-six, for it would be highly necessary for
him to live until it was time for the battle between
the third cousins to take place.


Having made up his mind on these points, the
old tutor introduced himself to Alberdin, and told
him that he had come to arrange the terms of
combat.
"In the first place," said Alberdin, I should
like to know what sort of a person my opponent is."
He is not a cavalryman like you," answered
Salim; "he belongs to the heavy infantry."
At this, Alberdin looked grave. He knew very
well that a stout and resolute man on foot had
often the advantage of one who is mounted. He
would have preferred meeting a horseman, and
fighting on equal terms.
Has he had much experience in war? asked
the young man.
It is not long," answered the tutor, since he
was almost constantly in arms, winter and summer."
He must be a practiced warrior," thought Al-
berdin. I must put myself in good fighting-trim
before I meet him."
After some further conversation on the subject,
the old man advised Alberdin to go into camp on
a beautiful plain not far from the base of a low
line of mountains.
Your opponent," said he, will intrench
himself in the valley on the other side. With the
mountains between you, neither of you need fear
a surprise; and when both are ready, a place of
meeting can be appointed.
Now, then," said Salim to himself when this
had been settled; if I can keep them apart for
seventeen years, all may be well."
As soon as possible, Alberdin pitched a tent
upon the appointed spot, and began to take daily
warlike exercise in the plain, endeavoring in every
way to put himself and his horse into proper con-
dition for the combat.
On the other side of the mountain, old Salim in-
trenched himself and the boy, Phedo. He care-
fully studied several books on military engineering,
and caused a fortified camp to be constructed on
the most approved principles. It was surrounded
by high ramparts, and outside of these was a moat
filled with water. In the center of the camp was
a neat little house which was well provided with
books, provisions, and everything npqessary for a
prolonged stay. When the draw-bridge was up, it
would be impossible for Alberdin to get inside of
the camp; and, moreover, the ramparts were so
high that he could not look over them to see what
sort of antagonist he was to have. Old Salim did
not tell the boy why he brought him here to live.
It would be better to wait until he was older before
informing him of the battle which had been de-
creed. He told Phedo that it was necessary for
him to have a military education, which could very
well be obtained in a place like this; and he was also


8IO


[SEPTEMBER,







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


very careful to let him know that there was a terri-
ble soldier in that part of the country who might
at any time, if it were not for the intrenchments,
pounce down upon him, and cut him to pieces.
Every fine day, Phedo was allowed to take a ride
on his donkey outside of the fortifications, but dur-
ing this time, the old tutor kept a strict watch on
the mountain; and if a horseman had made his
appearance, little Phedo would have been whisked
inside, and the draw-bridge would have been up in
a twinkling.
After about two weeks of this life, it was dread-
fully stupid to see no one but his old tutor, and
never to go outside of these great ramparts except
for donkey-rides, which were generally very short.
Phedo therefore determined, late one moonlight
night, to go out and take a ramble by himself. He
was not afraid of the dreadful soldier of whom the
old man had told him, because at that time of
night this personage would, of course, be in bed
and asleep. Considering these things, he quietly
dressed himself, took down a great key from over
his sleeping tutor's head, opened the heavy gate,
let down the draw-bridge, mounted upon his don-
key, which was glad, as was he, to go out, and
rode forth upon the moonlit plain.
That night-ride was a very delightful one, and
for a long time they rambled and ran; first going
this way and then that, they gradually climbed the
mountain, and, reaching the brow, they trotted
about for a while, and then went down the other
side. The boy had been so twisted and turned about
that he did not notice that he was not descend-
ing toward his camp, and the donkey, whose
instinct told it that it was not going the right
way, was lso told by its instinct that it did not
wish to go the right way, and that the entrench-
ments offered it no temptation to return. When
the morning dawned, Phedo perceived that he
was really lost, and he began to be afraid that he
might meet the terrible soldier. But, after a time,
he saw riding toward him a very pleasant-looking
young man on a handsome horse, and he immedi-
ately took courage.
"Now," said he to himself, I am no longer in
danger. If thgt horrible cut-throat should appear,
this good gentleman will protect me."
Alberdin had not seen any one for a long time,
and he was very glad to meet with so nice a little
boy. When Phedo told him that he was lost,
he invited him to come to his tent, near by, and
have breakfast. While they were eating their
meal, Alberdin asked the boy if in the course of
his rambles he had met with a heavy infantry
soldier, probably armed to the teeth, and very
large and strong.
Oh, I 've heard of that dreadful man cried


Phedo, and I am very glad that I did not meet
him. If he comes, I hope you '11 protect me from
him."
I will do that," said Alberdin; "but I 'm afraid
I shall not be able to help you find your way home,
for in doing so I should throw myself off my guard,
and might be set upon unexpectedly by this fel-
low, with whom I have a regular engagement to
fight. There is to be a time fixed for the combat,
for which I feel myself nearly ready, but I have no
doubt that my enemy will be very glad to take me
at a disadvantage if I give him a chance."
Phedo looked about him with an air of content.
The tent was large and airy; there seemed to be
plenty of good things to eat; the handsome horse-
man was certainly a very good-humored and agree-
able gentleman; and, moreover, the tent was not
shut in by high and gloomy ramparts.
I do not think you need trouble yourself," said
he to his host, "to help me to find my way home.
I live with my tutor, and I am sure that when he
knows I am gone he will begin to search for me, and
after awhile he will find me. Until then, I can be
very comfortable here."
For several days the two third cousins of the
Autocrat lived together in the tent, and enjoyed
each other's society very much. Then Alberdin
began to grow a little impatient.
If I 'm to fight this heavy infantry man," he
said; "I should like to do it at once. I amnow
quite ready, and I think he ought to be. I ex-
pected to hear from him before this time, and I
think I shall start out and see if I can get any news
of his intentions. I don't care about going over
the mountain without giving-him notice, but the
capital city of Mutjado is only a day's ride to the
west, and there I can cais'e inquiries to be made
when he would like to'menet me, and where."
"I will go with ybii," said Phedo, greatly de-
lighted at the idea of visiting the city.
Yes, I will take you," said Alberdin. Your
tutor don't seem inclined to come for you, and, of
course, I can't leave you here."
The next day, Alberdin on his horse, and Phedo
on his donkey, set out for the city, where they ar-
rived late in the afternoon. After finding a com-
fortable lodging, Alberdin sent messengers to the
other side of the mountain, where his opponent
was supposed to be encamped, and gave them
power to arrange with him for a meeting.: He
particularly urged them to try to see the old man
who had come to him at first, and who had seemed
to be a very fair-minded and sensible person. In
two days, however, the messengers returned, stat-
ing that they had found what they supposed to be
the intrenched camp of the heavy infantry man
they had been sent in search of, but that it was en-


1885.]







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


tirely deserted, and nobody could be seen any-
where near it.
It is very likely," said Alberdin, "that he
has watched my maneuvers and exercises from
the top of the mountain, and has concluded to


THE THIRD COUSIN ON THE FATHER'S SIDE

run away. I shall give him a reasonable time
to show himself, and then, if he does not come
forward, I will consider him beaten, and claim
the Autocracy."
Thatisa good idea," said Phedo, but I think,
if you can, you ought to find him and kill him, or
drive him out of the country. That's what I should
do, if I were you."
Of course I 'll do that, if I can," said Alberdin ;
"but I could not be expected to wait for him
forever."
When his intention had been proclaimed, Al-
berdin was informed of something which he did
not know before, and that was that the late Auto-
crat had left an only daughter, a Princess about
twenty-five years old. But although she was his
daughter, she could not inherit his crown, for the
country forbade that any woman should become
Autocrat. A happy idea now struck Alberdin.
I will marry the Princess," he said, and then
every one will think that it is the most suitable thing
for me to become Autocrat."
So Alberdin sent to the Princess to ask permis-
sion to speak with her, and was granted an audi-
ence. With much courtesy and politeness he made


known his plans to the lady, and hoped that she
would consider it a good idea to marry him.
I am sorry to interfere with any of your ar-
rangements," said the Princess, "but as soon as I
heard the terms of my father's will, I made up my
mind to marry the victor in the
contest. As I can not inherit the
throne myself, the next best thing
is to be the wife of the man who
does. Go forth, then, and find your
antagonist, and when you have
conquered him, I will marry you."
And if he conquers me, you
will marry him ? said Alberdin.
"Yes, sir," answered the Prin-
cess, with a smile, and dismissed
him.
It was plain enough that there
was nothing for Alberdin to do
Sbut to go and look for the heavy
( 7 infantry man. Phedo was very
anxious to accompany him, and
S the two, mounted as before, set
S ( out from the city on their quest.

When old Salim, the tutor of
Phedo, awoke in the morning and
found the boy gone, he immedi-
ately imagined that the youngster
had run away to his old home; so
he set forth with all possible speed,
hoping to overtake him. But
when he reached the distant town where Phedo had
lived, he found that the boy had not been there; and
after taking some needful rest, he retraced his steps,
crossed the mountains, and made his way toward
the capital city, hoping to find news of him there.
It was necessary for him to be very careful in his
inquiries, for he wished no one to find out that
the little boy he was looking for was the third
cousin of the late Autocrat on the mother's side.
He therefore disguised himself as a migratory
medical man, and determined to use all possible
caution. When he reached the camp of the young
horseman, Alberdin, and found that personage
gone, his suspicions became excited.
"If these two have run off together," he said
to himself, "my task is indeed difficult. If the
man discovers it is the boy he has to fight, my poor
Phedo will be cut to pieces in a twinkling. I do
not believe there has been any trouble yet, for the
boy does not know that he is to be one of the com-
batants, and the man would not be likely to suspect
it. Come what may, the fight must not take place
for seventeen years. And in order that I may still
better preserve my health and strength to avert
the calamity during that period, I will increase


812


[SEPTEMBER,






THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


my number of bites to forty-two to each mouthful
of meat."
When old Salim reached the city, he soon found
that Alberdin and the boy had been there, and
that they had gone away together.
"Nothing has happened so far," said the old
man, with a sigh of relief; and things may turn
out all right yet. I '11 follow them, but I must first
find out what that cavalryman had to say to the
Princess." For he had been told of the interview
at the palace.
It was not long before the migratory medical
man was brought to the Princess. There was
nothing the matter with her, but she liked to meet
with persons of skill and learning to hear what
they had to say.
"Have you any specialty? she asked of the
old man.
"Yes," said he, I am a germ-doctor."
What is that ? asked the Princess.
All diseases," replied the old man, "come from
germs; generally very little ones. My business is
to discover these, and find out all about them."
Then I suppose," said the Princess," you know
how to cure the diseases ? "
You must not expect too much," answered
the old man. "It ought to be a great satisfac-
tion to us to know what sort of germ is at the
bottom of our woes."
I am very well, myself," said the Princess,
"and, so far as I know, none of my household
are troubled by germs. But there is some-
thing the matter with my mind which I wish
you could relieve." She then told the old
man how she had determined to marry the
victor in the contest for her father's throne,
and how she had seen one of the
claimants whom she considered to -
be a very agreeable and deserving
young man; while the other, she
had heard, was a great, strong foot
soldier, who was probably very dis-
agreeable, and even horrid. If this
one should prove the conqueror, she
did not know what she should do. .-'
"You see, I am in a great deal of
trouble," said she. "Can you do any- (
thing to help me ?"
The pretended migratory medical
man looked at her attentively for a
few moments, and then he said:
"The reason why you intend to
marry the victor in the coming con-
test, is that you wish to remain here in your father's
palace, and to continue to enjoy the comforts and
advantages to which you have been accustomed."
"Yes," said the Princess; "that is it."


"Well, having discovered the germ of your dis-
order," said the old man, "the great point is
gained. I will see what I can do."
And with a respectful bow he left her presence.
Well," said old Salim to himself, as he went
away, "she can never marry my boy, for that is
certainly out of the question; but now that I have
found out her motive, I think I can arrange mat-
ters satisfactorily, so far as she is concerned. But
to settle the affair between that young man and
Phedo is immensely more difficult. The first thing
is to find them."
Having learned the way they had gone, the old
tutor traveled diligently, and in two days came
up with Alberdin and Phedo. When he first
caught sight of them, he
was very much surprised
to see that they were rest-
ing upon the ground quite
a long distance apart,witha
little stream between them. e
Noticing that Alberdin's
back was toward him, he
threw off his disguise and /


C--





THE THIRD COUSIN ON THE MOTHER'S SIDE.
hastened to Phedo. The boy received him with
the greatest delight, and, after many embraces,
they sat down to talk. Phedo told the old man
all that had happened, and finished by relating


813


l88s.]







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


that, as they had that day stopped by this stream
to rest, Alberdin had taken it into his head to
inquire into the parentage of his young com-
panion; and after many questions about his
family, it had been made clear to both of them
that they were the two third cousins who were to
fight for the Autocracy of Mutjado.
"He is very angry," said the boy, "at the
tricks that have been played upon him, and went
off and left me. Is it true that I am to fight him ?
I don't want to do it, for I like him very much."
It will be a long time before you are old
enough to fight," said Salim; "so we need not con-
sider that. You stay here, and I '11 go over' and
talk to him."
Salim then crossed the stream, and approached
Alberdin. When the young man saw him, and
recognized him as the person who had arranged
the two encampments, he turned upon him with
fury.
"Wretched old man, who came to me as the
emissary of my antagonist, you are but the tutor
of that boy If I had known the truth at first, I
would have met him instantly; would have con-
quered him without hurting a hair on his head;
and carrying him bound to the capital city, would
have claimed the Autocracy, and would now have
been sitting upon the throne. Instead of that,
look at all the delay and annoyance to which I
have been subjected. I have also taken such a
fancy to the boy that rather than hurt him or
injure his prospects, I would willingly resign my
pretensions to the throne, and go back contentedly
to my own city. But this can not now be done.
I have fallen in love with the daughter of the late
Autocrat, and she will marry none but the victo-
rious claimant. Behold to what a condition you
have brought me !"
The old man regarded him with attention.
"I wish very much," said he, "to defer the
settlement of this matter for seventeen years. Are
you willing to wait so long ?"
"No, I am not," said Alberdin.
"Very well, then," said the old man, "each
third cousin must retire to his camp, and as soon
as matters can be arranged the battle must take
place."
There is nothing else to be done," said Alber-
din in a troubled voice; "but I shall take care
that the boy receives no injury if it can possibly
be avoided."
The three now retraced their steps, and in a few
days were settled down, Alberdin in his tent in the
plain, and Salim and Phedo in their entrench-
ments on the other side of the low mountain. The
old man now gave himself up to deep thought.
He had discovered the germ of Alberdin's trouble;


and in a few days he had arranged his plans, and
went over to see the young man.
"It has been determined," said he, "that a
syndicate is to be formed to attend to this business
for Phedo."
"A syndicate!" cried Alberdin. "What is
that ?"
"A syndic," answered Salim, "is a person
who attends to business for others; and a syndi-
cate is a body of men who are able to conduct
certain affairs better than any individual can do it.
In a week from to-day, Phedo's syndicate will meet
you in the large plain outside of the capital city.
There the contest will take place. Shall you be
ready ? "
I don't exactly understand it," said Alberdin,
"but I will be there."
General notice was given of the coming battle
of the contestants for the throne, and thousands
of the inhabitants of the Autocracy assembled on
the plain on the appointed day. The Princess
with her ladies was there; and as everybody was
interested, everybody was anxious to see what
would happen.
Alberdin rode into the open space in the center
of the plain, and demanded that his antagonist
should appear. Thereupon old Salim came for-
ward, leading Phedo by the hand.
"This is the opposing heir," he said; "but as
every one can see that he is too young to fight a
battle, a syndicate has been appointed to attend to
the matter for him; and there is nothing in the
will of the late Autocrat which forbids this arrange-
ment. The syndicate will now appear."
At this command there came into the arena a
horseman heavily armed, a tall foot soldier com-
pletely equipped for action, an artilleryman with
a small cannon on wheels, a sailor with a boarding-
pike and a drawn cutlass, and a soldier with a re-
volving gun which discharged one hundred and
twenty balls a minute.
"All being ready," exclaimed Salim; "the com-
bat for the Autocracy will begin! "
Alberdin took a good long look at the syndicate
ranged before him. Then he dismounted from his
horse, drew his sword, and stuck it, point down-
ward, into the sand.
"I surrender! he said.
So do I !" cried the Princess, running toward
him, and throwing herself into his arms.
The eyes of Alberdin sparkled with joy.
"Let the Autocracy go he cried. "Now that
I have my Princess, the throne and the crown are
nothing to me."
So long as I have you," returned the Princess,
"I am content to resign all the comforts and ad-
vantages to which I have been accustomed."


814


[SEPTEMBER,







THE BATTLE OF THE THIRD COUSINS.


Phedo, who had been earnestly talking with his
tutor, now looked up.
S" You wont resign anything! he cried. "I
adopt you both as my father and mother, and you
shall live with me at the palace. Alberdin and my
tutor shall run the government for me until I am
grown-up; and if I have to go to school for a few
years, why, I suppose I must. And that is all there
is about it! "
The syndicate was now ordered to retire and
disband; the heralds proclaimed Phedo the con-
quering heir, and the people cheered and shouted
with delight. All the virtues of the late Autocrat
had come to him from his mother, and the citizens
of Mutjado much preferred to have a new ruler
from the mother's family.
I hope you bear no grudge against me," said
Salim to Alberdin; but if you had been willing to
wait for seventeefi years, you and Phedo might
have fought on equal terms. As it is now, it would
have been as hard for him to conquer you, as for
you to conquer the syndicate. The odds would
have been quite as great."
"Don't mention it," said Alberdin. I prefer
things as they are. I should have hated to drive the


boy away, and deprive him of a position which the
people wish him to have. Now we all are satisfied."
Phedo soon began to show signs that he would
probably make avery good Autocrat. He declared
that if he was to be assisted by ministers and cabi-
net officers when he came to the throne, he would
like them to be persons who had been educated
for.their positions, just as he was to be educated
for his own. Consequently he chose for the head
of his cabinet a bright and sensible boy, and had
him educated as a Minister of State. For Minis-
ter of Finance he chose another boy with a very
honest countenance. For General Superintendent
of Education he selected an intelligent girl, be-
cause he said that women thought very much
about education, and were great on sending chil-
dren, particularly boys, to school. He also said
that he thought there ought to be another officer,
one who would be a sort of Minister of General
Comfort, who would keep an eye on the health and
happiness of the subjects, and would also see that
everything went all right in the palace, not only
in regard to meals, but lots of other things. For
this office he chose a bright young girl, and had
her educated for the position.


PHEDO S CABINET.


815








BONNIE JEAN. [SEPTEMBER,


A GAME OF DOMINO-TEN-PINS.


BONNIE JEAN.

BY N. W.


IT promised to be a rough night on the Scottish
coast. All day long the wind had blown in fitful
gusts; and now a furious north-west gale had set
in from the sea. Down on the shore, the waves
moaned and sighed uneasily, and out. over the
treacherous rocks the spray hung like a mist.
I dinna like the look of the sea and the sky,"
little Jean Campbell said to herself, drawing closer
under the shelter of the old boat, and pushing the
curly yellow hair out of a pair of serious blue eyes.
" I wish father was hame."
Father" was Captain Campbell, of the East-
ern Star," which Jean firmly believed to be the
largest and most beautiful vessel afloat. But now
he was away on a long voyage,- and Jean did
miss him so !
From the shore, where Jean stood, she could see,
beyond the strip of sand and rocks and the short
brown meadows, the little house where she lived
with her grandmother; for Captain Campbell's wife


had died when Jean was but a baby, and he had
brought the little lassie home to his mother.
It was very lonely sometimes, Jean thought.
The nearest neighbor lived two miles away, over
the moor; and two miles along the shore in another
direction was the life-saving station. Jean knew all
the men attached to it, particularly the one whose
duty it was to patrol the coast between the station
and her grandmother's cottage. They all were
fond of the little ten-year-old lassie, and told her
marvelous stories of strange adventures at sea,
promising to watch carefully for the "Eastern
Star whenever it should sail past to Glasgow.
Little Jean, wrapped in her plaid, sat under the
lee of the big boat on the shore, wondering about
father, and watching the figure of the coast-guard
pacing slowly toward her. He nodded to Jean, as
he approached, stopping to raise his glass and
look keenly out to sea, and then stepped behind
her shelter out of the wind.


816


BONNIE JEANi


[SEPTEMBER,







BONNIE JEAN


It's a rough night for ye to be oot, my lassie,"
he said, kindly. Ye 'd best gang along hame
before the storm comes."
"I 'm no' afraid," Jean answered. "But I '11
be gangin' hame now. Will it be an ower hard
storm ? "
"The Lord help the puir lads comin' on this
coast the nicht," the coast-guard said. It '11 be
the warst gale this year yet. Ye ken Donald
Rae is sick, an' I maun take his watch as weel as
my ane. So I '11 no' be here but ance mair the
nicht at ten. Ye 're aye thinking' o' the Eastern
Star,' he added, seeing Jean look anxiously out at
the tossing, furious sea. Aweel, dinna worry your
little head about her, my lassie. She '11 no' be
in for a week yet, and ye can trust her captain to
keep off the coast, and the Captain up above to
watch over her."
Then he went on, with a pleasant "Gude-
nicht," and Jean hurried home just in time to es-


with tears at the thought of the brave sailors ex-
posed to so fearful a danger, remembering the
words of the old coast-guard, It '11 be the warst
gale o' this year yet."
May be the waves '11 roll high over the Devil's
Head, as Grandmother says they did one time
when she was a wee bit lassie," Jean thought.
" I 'd like to see sic a grand sight."
The tall clock was striking eleven that night
when Jean awoke, aroused by some sound, she
hardly knew what. Slipping softly out of bed, she
pushed aside the curtain and looked out, and saw
that the rain had ceased to fall, though the wind still
blew furiously. And there beyond the moor the
sea roared and raged, a great, heaving, black waste
of water, tossing white sheets of spray high over
the rocks.
I doubt not it 's ower the Devil's Head," Jean
said to herself, softly. "An' may be I '11 never
see it so again, if I dinna see it the nicht."


"BRAVE LITTLE JEAN NEVER THOUGHT OF THE DANGER."


cape the rain, which began to fall in torrents.
All through the evening she watched the storm,
curled up close to the window, while Grandmother
Campbell and Margery, the maid, knitted busily.
The roar of the wind and thunder of the waves
did not alarm Jean, though the blue eyes filled
VOL. XII.-52.


She listened to make sure that Grandmother
Campbell was asleep; then hastily dressing herself,
she wrapped her plaid tightly around her, half-
frightened at the thought of the black night out-
side, and went softly downstairs and out-of-doors.
It was not so dark but that she could find her way


x885.]


817








BONNIE JEAN. [SEPTEMBER,


across the strip of meadow, though the wind al-
most took her off her feet at times; and in a few
minutes she was at the shore.
Never in her life had the little Scotch girl seen
a more fearful sea than that which now tossed and
roared at her feet. The moon was up and, though
covered by flying, ragged clouds, gave light
enough to show the water flung high over the great
rock known as "The Devil's Head." And somewhere
out on that treacherous sea, the Eastern Star"
was sailing. Jean shivered to think of it. And
as she crouched under a rock, out of the wind,
the sound that had awakened her came again,
and then again and again. It was a signal-gun from
some ship, perhaps even then crushing and grind-
ing to pieces on the rocks.
Jean leaned forward, eagerly listening, as a blue
light flashed up from the water directly before her,
followed by another. Fixing her eyes on the
place where the rocket came from, she could dimly
see the outline of a vessel which had drifted broad-
side upon the reef, and was being swept continu-
ally by the furious sea.
They 've run on the Siren Jean said, in an
awestruck whisper. The vera worst rock on a'
the coast, Father says. They '11 sure hear the
guns at the station, and be here soon," she added,
and looked along the shore, half expecting to see the
men dragging the great life-boat to the rescue;
but as far as she could see, the beach was deserted.
The ship '11 break up, an they dinna hasten "
she exclaimed, with a pitiful little sob, which was
answered by another gun from the doomed vessel.
But the wind blew from the direction of the sta-
tion, and carried the sound away from the men.
Then gazing with wide, frightened eyes at the
wreck, she remembered that the coast-guard had
told her he would not be there again that night.
"He '11 be takin' Donald Rae's watch along the
other shore," she thought. I canna let them a'
droon. I maun go mysel'."
She fastened her plaid around her, and then with
one look at the wrecked ship, where in imagination
she could see the brave sailors waiting hopelessly for
it to break up, she started along the shore toward the
station. It was fully two miles of rough, sandy
beach, a hard enough walk in the day-time, but ter-
ribly dismal on such a night. Brave little Jean, how-
ever, never thought of the danger and loneliness of
her undertaking; only her loving little heart went
out in pity for the poor fellows awaiting death out on
the treacherous Siren. The wind was against her,
and she struggled alongthrough the wet, heavy sand,
sometimes almost blinded by clouds of sand and
water, and drenched by showers of spray that flew
over her when she drew too near the boiling surf.
Once a wave larger than the rest rushed up, curling


almost to her waist, and Jean, shrinking back, re-
alized for the first time the danger of her position;
but the thought of turning back never entered her
brave little head.
"The captain may be has a little girl waiting'
for him at hame. An'if I'm no' in time, he'llnever
come back to her. Father wad think I was right,
I know," she said as she hurried on.
It was a pathetic sight, this little lonely figure,
wet and tired, with yellow hair blown into the
frightened, tear-stained eyes, stumbling wearily
along through the storm on her errand of mercy.
How she found her way, bewildered by the roar
of the sea and the darkness, was known only to Him
in whom the dear. little lassie trusted to "take care
o' Father at sea."
The lights of the station were in sight now, and
the men just off watch sprang to their feet as brave
little Jean, dripping and exhausted, came in.
"There's a ship aground -on the Siren. I
kenned ye did not hear, an'--I came," she gasped
breathlessly, then staggered and fell heavily for-
ward, as the nearest man caught her in his arms.
The brave, bonnie lassie !" the old coast-guards
exclaimed, while they hurried to the boat.
Then came the words : "Now, my lads and
away they rushed to the rescue.
Jean was kindly cared for by the men, who could
hardly have believed the story of her dangerous
walk, had it been told by another than Captain
Campbell's little lassie, and sitting wrapped in a
warm coat by the fire, she was soon rested, and
earnestly begged to return to the wreck.
I dinna like to be awa' when they a' come
ashore," she said, so great was her faith that they
would be saved; and with two of the coast-guards,
who carried lanterns and guided her carefully along
the easiest way, carrying her over rough, danger-
ous places, Jean was speedily at the point where
she had first seen the signal-lights.
A faint gray streak was beginning to show more
distinctly, though the storm still raged furiously,
and the Devil's Head was crested with foam. An
eager crowd of villagers and coast-guards were
watching a dancing black speck, now lifted high
on an immense wave, then plunging down into a
vast black chasm.
"It 's the life-boat," they told Jean. "The
Lord send them there in time, for the ship 's
breaking' up fast."
The sea had never seemed to little Jean so cruel
and terrible as it did that early morning when she
sat with her eyes fixed on the life-boat, which had
appeared again, slowly making its way over the
tossing, black waves.
They 've saved them !" the man with the glass
exclaimed, and then a dead silence fell upon the


BONNIE JEAN.


[SEPTEMBER,






THE LITTLE GRAY POCKET. .


crowd, while the great boat came nearer, the crew
pulling with long, steady strokes, and a little knot
of bareheaded, blue-jacketed men in the stern.
A few minutes, and a dozen eager fellows had
rushed into the breakers and dragged the boat
ashore, almost lifting the rescued sailors from it,
cramped and stiff from their desperate struggle
for life.
The captain of the wrecked vessel was the last
man to leave the boat, and as he reached the shore,
an eager little figure came flying across the sand.
Father, Father! Jean cried joyfully; then she
was caught up in the arms of a tall, bronzed man,
while a hearty cheer burst from the crowd, and
proud voices told the story of little Jean's part in
the rescue.
For, sure enough, it was Captain Campbell and
his officers and crew; and the Eastern Star lay
beating to pieces out on the rocks. They had ar-
rived on the coast sooner than they were due, and


had hoped to reach Glasgow before the storm came
on; but through an injury to the rudder, the ship
had become unmanageable, and drifted hard and
fast upon the Siren. It had been a bitter night for
the captain as he stood helpless, expecting every
moment to be drawn down into the angry black
depths, while before his eyes was the cottage where,
as he supposed, his little Jean was safely sleeping.
"If it hadna been for my brave, bonnie lassie,
we should a' be coming ashore like that," Cap-
tain Campbell said, recognizing in a great spar
just flung on the sand the one to which he had
clung till rescued by the life-boat.
Then they went home to tell the wonderful story
to Grandmother Campbell and busy Margery.
Captain Campbell sailed away on his next voy-
age as captain of a much larger and finer ship
than the poor old Eastern Star "; and in gold
letters on its side could be read the name,-
"The Bonnie Jean."


THE LITTLE GRAY POCKET.

BY JULIA P. BALLARD.

I.
FOUR little balls in a queer gray pocket,
Rolling about as the wind would rock it;
For up, up, up, as high as could be,
It swung from the branch of a sycamore-tree!
II.
Hard little balls; but ere long they are breaking,-
Not from the rolling, and not from the shaking,-
Something inside of each ball comes to knock it;
And now there is music inside the gray pocket!
III.
Keen little eyes and a soft, gentle twitter,
Flutter of wings, and a quick golden glitter; -
Songs from the depths of the forest are ringing,
And empty and lone the gray pocket is swinging!


819






THE TERRIBLE JACK-KNIFE.


THE TERRIBLE JACK-KNIFE.

BY L. N. CHAPIN.


-- -- -


41 i











HERE GO
MY INITIALS!
ONCE upon a time there was a Jack-knife.
Now, there are good jack-knives, and there are
bad jack-knives, just as there are good little boys,
and bad little boys. There are a great many jack-
knives that always seem anxious to make some-
thing useful, and there are a great many other
jack-knives that always seem to be in mischief-
cutting the furniture, scratching the doors, and
doing other things that are bad.
This Jack-knife I am telling you about was one
of the bad kind.
I never heard its name, but probably it was
Sharpe.
Well, one day this Jack-knife went on a regular
lark. Now, when a bad boy goes on a lark, there
is sure to be some mischief done; and jack-knives
are likely to act very much as boys act. So this
Jack-knife, being, as I said, on a regular lark, went
racing about, hunting for a chance to do some-
thing terrible. By and by it rushed out upon a
piazza, where it thought no one could see it, but
where there was a door-a clean, fresh-painted,
brand-new door, that had never had a scratch on it.


Then this terrible Jack-knife whipped out one
of its blades, and it said (that is, it would have
said if it could talk), Here's a good chance to cut
and slash, and nobody '11 ever know who did it.
I'll just have a fine old time with this door. And
s'pos'n' they find it out-what '11 they say? Well,
who cares? Here go my initials." Now, initials
are the first letters of anybody's name. And that
makes me think this Jack-knife's name could n't
have been Sharpe. For the first letter that it cut
was a big M. Dear, dear, it was simply dreadful
to see that nice door cut and hacked in that way.
And I think the door felt terribly about it, too, for
it just turned a kind of pale drab.
Well, when this terrible Jack-knife had cut and
hacked out the M., then it began to cut a big C.
Now, of course, its name could n't have been
Sharpe, nor Steele, nor anything like them, for
those names don't begin with an M. But it never
finished the C. For just then somebody came
along and frightened it away. Bad jack-knives are
very easy to scare. But.it had done enough to
spoil the looks of the door; and the worst of it is
that it can never, never be fixed -no, never.
Now, I have been thinking, suppose this old
Jack-knife should some day be reformed, and
become a real good Jack-knife, as I hope it will;
and suppose that, instead of doing bad things, it
should learn to do useful things-such as sharpen-
ing lead-pencils, making boats that will sail, and
tops that will spin, and other things like that;
suppose all this,--and then suppose that some day
-may be fifty years from now-it should come
around and just take a look at that door. Oh,
yes; it would be there, no doubt, with the very
same hack there that the Jack-knife had made.
My, would n't that Jack-knife feel sad! Every
time it looked toward the door it could n't see
anything but those dreadful hacks that it had made
fifty years ago. Sad? I should say it would feel
sad!

MORAL.

Never do anything you may be sorry for.
N. B.-This is a true story, and was written by
an eye-witness.


820


[SEPTEMBER,






HIS ONE FAULT.


HIS ONE FAULT.

BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


CHAPTER XXVII.

WHILE Kit was getting his affairs into this fresh
tangle, his mother was making a hurried journey
on foot from East Adam village to Uncle Gray's
farm.
She had seen nothing of her son since that
moonlight glimpse of .him, when he rode to her
door on the false Dandy's back. She had grown
anxious; waiting for him to come, as he had prom-
ised, to tell her the story of his wonderful adven-
ture. And now rumors had reached her of the
astounding error into which he had that night
been betrayed, and of his starting off the next day,
alone, to make such amends for it as he could to
the owners of both horses.
In great distress of mind she trudged to the
farm-house door. Her coming was observed; and
with as cheerful a countenance as she could as-
sume, but with apprehensions of an unpleasant
scene, Aunt Gray admitted her brother's widow.
There was still a faint odor of burnt stramonium
and saltpeter in the house, showing that Uncle
Gray, despite the fine weather, had not yet fully
recovered from his asthmatic attack.
"Marier Why, how do you do? said Aunt
Gray, affecting pleasurable surprise at sight of the
widow.
But poor Mrs. Downimede had neither time nor
breath to waste in fine phrases.
"What is this strange thing I hear," she said,
sinking upon a chair, about my Chiistopher? "
What I have you heard about that ? replied
Aunt Gray, with a smile of broad pleasantry.
"Well, he did make the funniest mistake! Do
take off your things, wont you ? And stop to tea."
But Kit's mother could n't think of tea, nor of
anything else, until she knew what had become
of her boy. She sat, with her face sadly pale and
worn in its frame of black crape, while Aunt Gray,
dropping into an arm-chair opposite, proceeded,
not without touches of humor, to describe Kit's
curious misadventure.
"Just think of his coming' home here, proud as
a kitten with her first mouse, and then finding ,
after all, that he 'd brought another man's hoss!
I declare it was too bad and yet I could n't help
laughin'"for the life of me when I come to think it
over. But his uncle could n't see anything comical
in it. He took it about as hard as Christopher
himself did. It went right to his bronichal tubes"


(Aunt Gray meant bronchial tubes, I suppose),
"along with the night air; and he has been
strainin' at gnats and swallerin' camels ever since."
But where is he-where is Christopher ? the
pale lips of the widow inquired, with deep concern.
"You need n't be the least mite worried about
Christopher," Aunt Gray replied, with an appear-
ance of greater confidence than she perhaps felt.
" I gave him money for his expenses, and he 's a
boy that can be trusted to take care of himself, for
all his blunderin'."
"'Take care of himself! said a simmering voice;
and Uncle Gray, hollow-chested and bent, with
bristling iron-gray hair, and hooked, sallow nose,
shuffled into the room. If he can, I shall be
glad to know it; for I'm confident that there 's
nothing' else under the canopy he can be trusted to
take care on."
I 'm so sorry said the widow, wiping her
eyes. He is heedless at times, I know. But he
has many good qualities; that you must allow.
There never was a better boy to his mother than
my Christopher. AndI did hope-I didhope"-
beginning to sob you would have had a little
patience with him! "
"P-p-p-patience with him said Uncle Gray.
"Job himself could n't have patience-and con-
tinner to have-with such a dunderpate! He
would mislay the family Bible if he had the hand-
lin' on 't; or the barn-door if't was n't on hinges.
It 's lucky his head is fast to his shoulders, or you
might expect to see him go mopin' around without
it some morning askin' if anybody 'd seen anything'
of his head!"
Uncle Gray ended with a hoarse sound that was
intended for a sarcastic laugh.
"Well!" Aunt Gray interposed, soothingly,
"it's a pretty good head, if it does blunder some-
times. And it 's a still better heart the boy has;
nobody can find any fault with that. Don't you
begin to be discouraged about your son, Marier,
for I 'm not. He's pure gold all through; no gilt
nor tinsel about him. And he '11 turn out so, mark
my word."
"I know what he is," said the widow. I only
wish I knew as well where he is at this moment,
or that I had him back in our own little home once
more. I never thought you would do such a thing
as to let him. go off alone, on a hunt for the stolen
horse, in the first place. Still less would I have
believed,- after your promise to be like a father to









HIS ONE FAULT. [SEPTEMBER,


him, if he would come and live with you still
less did I imagine you could be so unfeeling as to
tell him he need n't come back without Dandy."
She gave Uncle Gray a reproachful look through
her tears. He paced excitedly to and fro, breathing
sonorously.
"Wal, wal!" he said, "I was provoked to
death So would anybody 'a' been in my place.
And, the fact is, I can't have a boy around that I
can't rely on to look after things; that 's the long
and the short on 't."
I don't know what we 're going to do," said
the weeping widow. "And yet I do, too; Chris-
topher must come back home,--if he ever comes
back at all! or find another place. And I can't
bear-oh, I can't bear to have him go to stran-
gers! What can we expect of them, since his own
relatives are so hard upon him? "
I never meant to be hard upon him, Sister
Marier," replied Uncle Gray. I have been kind
to him, if I du say it! Leastwise, I meant to be."
I suppose so. And yet I can't understand! "
murmured the widow. "After he had been away
once, and had had bad luck, and you had learned
how little he was to be trusted, I wonder you
should have let him start off again,- a mere boy
so- to hunt for your horse, or even to return the
one he had brought home."
The truth is, I didn't know what I was about,"
replied Uncle Gray. "I was half crazy with the
azmy. Otherwise, I 'd no more 'a' done it than
I 'd--"
Uncle Gray, still pacing to and fro, with his head
down, stopped, and lifting his eyes, looked through
the window, as if in search of a metaphor strong
enough for his purpose. But all at once he forgot
that he wanted a metaphor; he forgot even to
wheeze.
A two-seated, open buggy, containing three
persons, was driving into the yard. Aunt Gray
noticed the changed expression of her husband's
face, and heard the sound of wheels; following his
glance with her own, she saw a stout driver on the
front seat and a young lady with a parasol behind.
"Why, they 're strangers! she exclaimed,
as soon as she had looked twice. Gracious me !
I must hurry and dress up a little."
Uncle Gray stared at the horse, and said hoarse-
ly: Dandy Jim as I 'm a livin' bein' "
The widow caught sight of a base-ball cap, and
a smiling face partially eclipsed by the larger orb
of Eli's cloudy countenance, and exclaimed joy-
fully: "Christopher! it's Christopher! it's my
boy come back! "

Christopher it was, indeed, with the real Dandy,
and Mr. Badger and Miss Badger; having accom-


polished at last, without guile, what he had once
thought to do by artifice or stealth.
He had Lydia to thank for this happy result;
as but for her timely interference Eli would cer-
tainly have turned back from the point where we
left them, and driven home in an unreasoning
rage.
Despite her lisp, and the cut of her flaxen hair,
and other qualities which Kit did not particularly
fancy, she had at that crisis shown herself possessed
of more good sense and firmness of purpose than
he had given her credit for, during their brief
acquaintance.
By her influence over her father, which even his
anger could not long resist, she had compelled
him to halt and listen; then, encouraging Kit to
remonstrate, she had helped him bring out the
strong points in the case, and shake the resolution
of the most obstinate of men.
If it were really a stolen horse he had bought, he
could not expect to hold it, no matter how .much
money he had paid for it; and a lawsuit would
only add to his loss. Did he doubt Kit's word,
he could prove it true or false. by finishing the
journey, then more than half accomplished. This
would be the best thing to do, under any cir-
cumstances; Kit agreeing that Eli should not be
,without a horse to drive home again, if he could
help it.
Nor need he be so incensed with the boy, Lydia
argued. It was not a very wicked stratagem he
had used, and he had shown his honest intentions
by confessing the- truth about it before it was too
late to turn back.
"If you had taken my money," he explained,
"as I expected you would, when we started, I
should have felt I was doing right. But the more
I thought of it, the worse it seemed to take advan-
tage of your kindness in that way. For you really
have been kind!"
"We owed it to you, for latht night," said
Lydia. "For though you wath hunting for your
horthe, you wath n't obliged to come and tell uth
about the grape-thtealerth."
I am as sorry as anybody can be," Kit added,
"that you have bought a horse of a man who had
no right to sell it, and I am sorry to lose your
friendship."
Oh, you wont loothe that! exclaimed Lydia.
"I think more of you than ever."
But never set up any claim ag'in to not being
smart enough!" said Eli, his growl beginning to
soften. For their' is nothing' over 'n' above stupid
about you! "
More conversation of the same sort had at length
changed his determination; and here they were
with Dandy at Uncle Gray's door.


[SEPTEMBER,


HIS ONE FAULT.







HIS -ONE FAULT


Wal, f'r instance '" said Uncle Gray, rushing
out as Kit was getting down from the buggy.
"You 've actually brought the right hoss this
time! Wal! wal! it 's the beatermost thing you
ever did yet! "
Surprise and joy had caused him to forget both
his asthma and his hat, and in his eagerness to
look Dandy over, he paid very little heed to Kit's
companions. He opened the horse's mouth, he
patted its neck, he stroked its shanks; then, he ran
his fingers through his own stiff upright forelock,
and stood off a pace or two for a better view of
Dandy, again exclaiming gleefully:
Wal! wall f'r instance "
Meanwhile, somebody else was no less absorbed
in Christopher, hugging and kissing him with
laughter and tears, regardless of the eyes of
strangers.
This is my mother," said he, as soon as he
could free himself, introducing her to Mr. and
Miss Badger. "And this is my Aunt Gray.
And Uncle Gray."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE next morning, Elsie Benting sat sewing and
singing in the old farm-house at Maple Park, in
Duckford, when the stout serving-woman from the
kitchen looked in upon her.
"You don't wish any broken crockery mended,
or tin pans soldered, do you ? Or would you like
to buy any patent solder or cement? A man here
has some that he claims will do wonders."
"No," said Elsie, hardly looking up from her
sewing. You know I can't attend to anything
of that kind when Mother's away."
"So I told him," replied the servant. But
he's very urgent; he wont take no' for an answer.
He insists on seeing the lady of the house."
I 'm not the lady of the house, tell him "
As she spoke, Elsie started up indignantly. The
persistent peddler had followed the servant, and
was already pushing into the room where the
young girl was.
"You need not buy anything of me if you do
-not wish," he said, with polite effrontery. But
give me a broken plate, or a leaky pan, and let me
show you in about a minute and a half what my
solder and cement will do."
"We don't want anything of the kind," said
Elsie, with spirit, wondering at the same time
where she had seen that face and heard that voice.
"You can use the solder yourself," her visitor
insisted, with brazen blandness. "Any child can
use it to mend any sort of tin-ware; a very great
convenience, as every housekeeper knows who has
tried it. I am a plumber and tinner myself, and I


am aware that I am spoiling my own trade when I
offer such an article for sale. But why have leaky
basins and dippers, or why employ a mechanic,
when you can do your own repairs at a trifling ex-
pense? "
But when I tell you distinctly," said Elsie,
rising, with sparkling eyes, "that we don't wish
for anything-- Suddenly she stopped, as if
interrupted by a bewildering thought.
Or my patent cement," the fellow rattled on,
showing packages which he produced from a bag he
carried. "Think how often you fracture a bowl
or a vase, and it must go into the waste-barrel for
want of a slight outlay-a minute's work and a
cent's worth of this truly magical substance which
I offer for sale."
Elsie appeared mollified.
"Excuse me," she said. "Perhaps I will let
you try your cement on-let me see-what have
we, Dorothy? Sit down, if you please "
The peddler smilingly seated himself, and
glanced quickly about the room, while Elsie fol-
lowed the servant to the kitchen.
"Anything !" whispered the girl, eagerly;
"the dish-cover that had the knob broken off the
other day-give him that. And any old plate.
Keep him till I come back "
She darted from the back. door, and ran with
slippered feet and bare head to the orchard, where
the boys were gathering apples. Charley was on a
wagon with some baskets under a tree, Lon was
in the branches, and Tom up a ladder, when she
appeared, breathless with running and excitement,
and told them who was in the house.
Are you sure? cried Tom. We don't wish
to make another mistake."
"Oh, I know!" exclaimed Elsie. "It's the
right one, this time. I never shall forget that
face! Come! Come, quickly as you can! "
She hurried back to the house, accompanied by
Charley, while Tom slipped down the ladder and
Lon dropped from the boughs.
The retailer of magical substances, adjusting the
knob of the dish-cover, in the sitting-room where
Elsie had left him, was somewhat disconcerted to
see her return with Charley, followed immediately
by Lon and Tom.
Hello he said, looking up, while he pressed
the knob in place.
"Hello Lon replied, advancing resolutely
toward him. "I think I 've seen you before."
"Great Scott!" said the tinker, with a laugh,
"I believe you! How did you get out of that
scrape? I 've thought of it a hundred times,
always regretting that I was obliged to leave you
on the road-side, with your wagon and harness,
minus a horse! "


823







HIS ONE FAULT.


He spoke with gay volubility; but his hand was
unsteady, and the knob slipped from its place.
"No doubt you 've found it very funny," said
Lon, "but our recollections of you have n't been
so.pleasant."
"Is it possible! exclaimed the tinker, rising
and casting a quick look behind him. "I hope
you got your horse ?"
"Oh, yes said Tom, walking around to the
door on the other side of the room, beyond the
visitor, "and the little fellow who took him."
"And now," added Lon, "we 've got the big
fellow who helped the little fellow who took him."


You helped that boy off with our horse, and
we have good reason to believe you had stolen his
horse first. Your name is Branlow."
"That's my name, if I know myself," Cassius
admitted. "But what you are talking about is
more than I can comprehend."
Go with us and you '11 find out," said Tom.
Go where ?" inquired Branlow.
To a justice of the peace."
"I '11 go with you when you have an officer
with a warrant to take me," said Branlow. Till
then, don't you dare lay hands: on me-not one
of you! I have n't stolen your horse, nor helped


"WAL, F'R INSTANCE!" SAID UNCLE GRAY. (SEE PAGE 823.)


Oh got two of them, have you ?" the tinker
retorted, with an effort at cheerfulness. "Glad
to hear it. I give this up as a bad job, Miss,"
turning to Elsie. "You wont take any of my
cement, I suppose? Sorry to have troubled ydo."
He returned his packages to the bag, which he
shut, and started with it toward the door.
"It is a bad job-for you, I'm afraid," said
Lon. "You 'll find that we can stick to you,
without cement !"
"Why, gentlemen," said the tinker, feigning
astonishment, "what 's your business with me?"


anybody steal it. Now, take my advice--mind
your own business and let me alone."
He had a wicked look, evidently meaning to
show fight if the boys did not let him pass. Elsie
looked on in terror, half-regretting what she had
done. Meanwhile, conscience was making a cow-
ard of Lon.
"I have been thinking, boys," he said; "that
if our horse was taken by mistake, nobody stole
him, and I don't know what charge we can bring
against this fellow."
And I 've been thinking, too," said Tom,


S824


[SEPTEMBER,







HIS ONE FAULT.


" that his stealing the other horse is n't our affair.
I suppose we shall have to let him go."
"That's where you're wise, gentlemen," re-
marked Branlow, grinning with a greenish-yellow
face. Thank you he added, with mock polite-
ness, as Lon stepped aside for him. Sorry I could
n't trade with you to-day, Miss Good-day "
The Bentings all were so sure he was a rogue
that Elsie was ready to cry with vexation (think-
ing, perhaps, of Kit's wrongs), and the boys were
highly chagrined at their own unheroic conduct in
letting him off so easily.
If I 'd been sure we had a right to take him,
I would n't have minded his bluster," said Lon.
"Nor I," said Tom. Our mistake the other
day has made me think twice when I go catching
horse-thieves."
"See the scamp swaggering along the road!
laughing in his sleeve at us, I 've no doubt! ex-
claimed Charley.
"I wish I were certain we had the least claim
on him," said Lon, his courage rising again.
I 'd like no better fun than to tackle him,"
muttered the ferocious Tom.
I would n't have let him go! declared
Charley.
While they followed him thus courageously with
their eyes, but not at all with their feet, Branlow
was indeed laughing in his sleeve, and congratu-
lating himself on his lucky escape.
I thought't was all up with me, for a minute,"
he said to himself. "How under the sun did it
happen that I should come to the house of those
fellows I saw at Peaceville ? Well, they wont see
me here again very soon."
He was walking away at a brisk pace, when
something caused Elsie to think of her work-
basket. She examined it hastily, and cried out:
Oh, my thimble he has taken my best thim-
ble "
Branlow had in fact practiced that light-fingered
industry of his once too often. He was well aware
of the unfortunate circumstance, when, casting
furtive glances behind, he saw two of the brothers
come out of the maple grove before the house and
start toward him with an excitement of manner
which did not seem to him of good augury.
Hold on called Tom, beckoning him back,
"if you want to sell some of your solder."
But Branlow was never in his life less anxious
to make sales than at that moment. Instead of
waiting for the boys to come up with him, he
quickened his walk. At the same time he was
seen to take something from his pocket and give
it a little fling toward the road-side.
The two boys continued to call and beckon, to
attract his attention; while the other and eldest


brother made a swift detour of the fields to head
him off. Discovering this movement when Lon
was nearly abreast of him, Branlow broke into a
run.
An interesting race followed, Lon running in the
field and Branlow in the road, while Tom followed
at a distance. Cassius was fleet of foot, but he
had his bag to bother him, and he soon perceived
that in the kind of endurance denominated "wind,"
he was no match for the sturdy young farmers.
He stopped, and turned defiantly.
Well! what's the trouble now?" he demanded,
as Lon leaped over the road-side wall.
"You 've my sister's thimble," said Lon. .
"It's a false charge," replied Branlow. "Don't
you touch me !" He snatched something from
his pocket, which flew open in his hand, and
became a shining dirk.
" False or not," said Lon, "strike one of us
with that knife and you will have a worse charge
to answer."
Tom, at the same time, came rushing to the
spot, and Charley wvas not far off. The Benting
blood was up in all of them,-their courage no
longer honeycombed with doubts as to their right
to capture a scoundrel.
If a thimble is all you want, you can search
me," said Cassius; "but promise to let me go if
you don't find it."
"Don't promise that," Tom cried breathlessly;
"he threw something away when he saw us
coming. Did you find it?" he shouted back at
Charley, who had remained to search the road-
side.
Charley held up something.as he ran. It, was
not a thimble, but a pair of scissors.
"So he took her scissors, too!" said Tom.
"Elsie did n't know that."
You may as well give up, Branlow Lon said.
"Put away your knife, and go with us peaceably,
or you '11 be knocked down and dragged." With
these words, he took a step forward and stood
sternly facing the coward.
For coward Cassius was, with all his reckless-
ness and bluster. He dropped his hand to his
side, still holding the open knife.
Shut it, I say ordered Lon.
As Branlow still hesitated, backing off and re-
monstrating, Lon sprang upon him, seizing his
arm before it could be raised to strike.
Grip him, boys !" cried Lon, and in a moment
Branlow was disarmed and a prisoner.
"Now, what do you want of me, my fine fel-
lows?" he said, assuming an air of innocence.
" Why do you accuse me about those scissors that
you found back there ? I thought it was a thimble
that you said you wanted."


825








HIS ONE FAULT. [SEPTEMBER,


That's just what we do want," said Lon.
Search me, then i" said Branlow.
"That, again, is precisely what we propose to
do !" was the reply.
Cassius emptied his pockets for them, and they
examined the contents of his bag. In it they found,
in addition to his cement and solder, a pair of sil-
ver forks, a dessert-
spoon, and three tea-
spoons, but no thimble.
"Yousee, myfriends,"
said Branlow, "youhave ,
no hold on me what- ,r '
ever. You don't claim
that you 've lost a pair -.
of scissors; and I've
no thimble. Now, my
advice to you is, to ..
save yourselves and me
trouble by selecting any
of these articles you
like, accepting them
with my compliments, '
.and letting me proceed
about my business." ,'*
"We don't care to .,/l
accept stolen property,
which I've no doubt this
is," said Lon. "Give
.another look for the y
thimble, Charley, where 'a /
you found the scissors.
Here, Elsie "
As the frightened girl
advanced to meet her
brothers returning with
their prisoner, Lon held
up something.
"Did you ever see
these before ?"
They look like my BRANLOW
scissors; theymustbe!"
said Elsie; though I had n't missed them."
Go back and examine your work-basket, and
make sure, please," said Lon.
She was gone but a few minutes, when she re-
turned, exclaiming: They have been taken!
That pair must be mine "
About the same time, Charley, after some further
search in the road-side grass, cried, Eureka! "
He had found a thimble, which Elsie immediately
identified.
"You see how it is, Mr. Branlow," said Tom,
exultingly.
I see how it is," replied Cassius, recklessly.
"You 've caught me But you need n't hang on
to my arm so hard; I 'm not going to get away."


I don't imagine you are laughed Lon.
"But you 're going to take a sensible view of
the situation,- are n't you? said Branlow.
" You can't gain anything by keeping me; you've
recovered your scissors and thimble. Now, if you
object to receiving the trifles I have come by, in
the way of business, take what money I have in


BROKE INTO A RUN." (SEE PAGE 825.)


my pocket-book, call it an even thing, and say
good-bye. How 's that for a fair proposal? "
"It 's a proposal we can no more accept, than
we can take your miscellaneous plunder 1" said
Lon. Bring around the horse and wagon from
the orchard, Charley, while Tom and I cultivate
the acquaintance of this slippery gentleman."
The wagon was brought, the baskets. of apples
were taken out, and the seats put in; and in a few
minutes the boys were ready to set off for town
with their captive.
I owe this to you, Miss! I shall remember
the favor! said Branlow, looking back with a
malicious glance at Elsie standing in the door to
see them'start.


(To be continued.)


826


HIS ONE FAULT.


[SEPTEMBER,







1885.] FROM BACH TO WAGNER. 827


FROM BACH TO WAGNER.
A Series of Brief Papers concerning the Great Musicians.

BY AGATHA TUNIS.


VI. -'SCHUBERT.

FRANZ PETER SCHUBERT was born January 31,
1797, at Vienna.
His father supported himself by teaching. He
appreciated the marvelous power of his little
son, and did all he could to cultivate it, but his
"all" was unfortunately very little. From his
earliest years Franz's genius showed itself, and it
reminds us of Mozart, whose infant triumphs were
very similar. A young friend often took him
to a pianoforte factory, where he practiced, and
between this chance and what he could accomplish
on an old piano at home, he taught himself the
rudiments of his art. His brother Ignaz taught
him the violin and clavier, but he soon outgrew
his master, and was sent to Holzer, a choir-
master, who instructed him in pianoforte and or-
gan playing, and in singing. This teacher used
to say with tears: If ever I wished to teach him
anything new, I found he had already mastered it."
At the age of eight, Schubert wrote his first
pianoforte composition, and thus began his career.
When eleven, he sang in the parish church, where
his fine voice and beautiful style of singing at-
tracted great attention. Soon after this, with sev-
eral other candidates, he was examined for admit-
tance into the Emperor's choir, a position which
would entitle him to instruction in the Imperial
school. The other boys were much amused at
the lad's appearance, and, from his gray suit,
thought he must be a miller's boy; but their
laughter changed to admiration when they heard
the child sing, and the committee was only too
glad to secure his services. Schubert was now a
good violinist, and was made a member of the
school band, which studied the symphonies of
Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. All these com-
posers made a deep impression on him, espe-
cially Beethoven, whom he almost worshiped, and
whom he always looked up to as his master.
When about thirteen, his longing to write over-
powered him, and he shyly confided to his friends
that he had already composed music, and could
produce much more if only he could get more
music-paper; his friends were sympathetic and
appreciative, and whenever an opportunity arose
would produce one of his works. Perhaps one of
the greatest advantages that Schubert drew from
the school was the intimacies he formed there
with boys who were to be his truest friends


through life. One of them, Joseph Spaun, fur-
nished him with music-paper as long as he was in
the school, and was ever ready to give him money
and appreciation.
Schubert now began to neglect everything for
composition. We must remember that besides
music, he received instruction in history, geog-
raphy, mathematics, drawing, French, and Italian.
During the first year, his progress in all these
branches was excellent; but afterward music ab-
sorbed every thought and feeling he possessed.
Schubert made weekly visits home, where his com-
positions were frequently played by the family. It is
said that if Schubert's father made a mistake in
playing, the boy, on the first occasion, would pass
it over, but the second time, would say, very tim-
idly: Father, there must be a mistake some-
where "; and soon the mistake would be corrected.
Franz received little help in the art of compo-
sition from his school; his teacher, like Holzer,
seems to have been awed by the boy's genius.
His life at the school had its dark side; the prac-
tice-room was often too cold to sit in, and in a let-
ter to his brother, he begs him to send him a roll
or an apple, the meals were so wretched, and he
had to wait eight hours between dinner and supper.
In 1813, he left the school and taught as his
father's assistant for three long and weary years,
composing constantly in addition to his regular
duties. It was during this period that he met
Salieri, who received him as a pupil, and took the
greatest delight in teaching him. Schubert owed
more to this man than to any of his instructors,
and was always grateful for his interest.
In 1815, Schubert wrote nearly a hundred songs,
besides his symphonies and other compositions.
Everything he touched turned to music, from the
most lovely poems to the most worthless verses;
the text mattered little to him if only he could set
it to music. It was during this year that he wrote
the famous "Erl-king," through which he first
became known to the public. When I finish one
song," he says, I turn to the next." He wrote
with the greatest ease, and never corrected his work.
We are told that once, during a stroll through a little
village, he happened to see a volume of Shake-
speare, and on reading Hark, hark, the lark at
heaven's gate sings," he said: Oh, such a melody
has come into my head; if only I had music-paper
at hand Some one drew some staves on a bill
of fare, and there, amid the noise and confusion of








MY SWEETHEART. [SEPTEMBER.


an inn, he wrote the lovely song that bears that
title. Schubert was obliged to support himself from
his songs, and as few of them were ever published,
it is a mystery how he ever managed to live.
The year 1822 was a memorable one to Schu-
bert, for he then had an interview with Beethoven.
We have already spoken of his enthusiasm for the
great master. When poor Schubert stood in the
presence of the man he had so long adored, every
bit of courage forsook his gentle, sensitive spirit,
and he was scarcely able to utter a word. It was
not till long afterward that Beethoven knew Schu-
bert's work. During his last illness, he read some
of his songs, and expressed great surprise that he
had not seen them -before. Schubert visited him
before he died, and was so overcome with grief
at his illness, that he burst into tears and rushed
from the room.
In 1823, Schubert wrote an opera, which was re-
turned without examination; soon after this he wrote
.another, with the same result; third one was per-
formed, but proved a complete failure. Schubert
was then completely discouraged and became very
despondent.
Fortunately for him, he entered upon a trip
through upper Austria with his friend, Franz Vogl.
This man was a fine singer, and devoted to Schu-
bert, who often played the accompaniments of his
songs while Vogl sang them. It was mainly,
through Vogl's efforts that Schubert's songs became
known to the public. Sometimes Schubert played
alone, and in speaking of such a time he says:
I felt that the keys under my hands sang like
voices, which makes me very happy, for I can not
endure that dreadful thumping, which even some
great players adopt, but which pleases neither my
ear nor my judgment."
This trip through the country did everything for


Schubert. Everywhere the minstrels were re-
ceived by friends, who were entranced by their
music. Schubert now set some songs from The
Lady of the Lake," all of which, especially the
"Ave Maria," were greatly admired. Schubert de-
lighted in the free country life and the beautiful
scenery; every peak, evefy valley, every tree con-
soled. and charmed him, and he returned home
with his health restored.
For the next few years, Schubert's life was une-
ventful; he worked as industriously and ceaselessly
as ever. In 1828, he was anxious to visit some
friends in the country, but lack of money pre-
vented him. Instead, he moved into a new house,
which was still damp, and which probably caused
his death. His health now began to fail; but
after a while it improved, and among other places,
he made a short journey to Eisenstadt, where
he visited the grave of Haydn. On returning to
Vienna, he became much worse, and at last he
took to his bed. He does not seem to have en-
dured any pain, but only to have suffered from
low spirits and weakness. Poor, lonely, unappreci-
ated, there seemed no joy for him in life. We
have seen how completely his musical education
was neglected. He never heard his most beautiful
creations.
He died November 19, 1828. During his last
illness he begged to be buried with Beethoven;
and his poverty-stricken father and brother Ferdi-
nand made every sacrifice in order to lay him near
his master. Some friends raised a monument, on
which is written:
"Music has here entombed a rich treasure,
SBut still fairer hopes."

How inadequate the tribute; and yet, what rec-
ord of Schubert save his music could satisfy us?


MY SWEETHEART.

BY ALLEN G. BIGELOW.


I 'M in love with a fair little maiden -
With her eyes, with her lips, with her hands,
With her dozens of dear little dimples;-
And although she 's petite
On her sweet little feet,
'T is a wonder to me how she stands.

And she loves me, this dear little maiden;
And her hands, and her eyes, and her lips,
And her dimples, all giving me welcome-


In a sweet, artless way
Have their say, every day,
As to meet me she lovingly trips.

Will she wed me, this sweet little maiden?
--Bless you, no That she never will do.
But, when I have told you the reason,
I have n't a fear
'T will appear to you queer;
For I 'm thirty- while she 's only two!


828


[SEPTEMBER.


MY SWEETHEART.







1885.] A SEPTEMBER DAY. 829



piu -6
.,''L 'a :" :.- -.-r--, o- -





I --, .-
h- -N N




j-

=c-A=



.
. .--7_ .


A SEPTEMBER DAY ON THE LAKE. (SEE PAGE 874.)







DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


"May I go wit-, thee ?"
No, not nov ;-
When I send foi thee.
Then come th-..u."

-Mother Goost .?, '/l..


DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.

BY E. P. ROE.


CHAPTER VIII.- MIDSUMMER LABORS.

OUR house was far enough away from the
barn to prevent the shock of the thunderbolt from
disabling us for longer than a moment or two.
Merton had fallen off his chair, but was on his feet
almost instantly; the other children were soon sob-
bing and clinging to my wife and myself. In tones
that I sought to render firm and quiet, I said :
"No more of this foolish fear. We are in God's
hands, and He will take care of us. Winifred,
you must rally and soothe the children, while
Merton and I go out and save what we can. All
danger to the house is now over, for the worst of
the storm has passed."


In a moment my wife, although very pale, was
re-assuring the younger children, and Merton and
I hurried from the house.
Lead the horse out of the basement of the
barn, Merton," I cried, "and tie him securely
behind the house. If he wont go readily, throw a
blanket over his eyes."
I spoke these words as 'i. c r.i through the tor-
rents of rain that followed the tremendous con-
cussion produced by the lightning.
I opened the barn doors and saw that the hay
was on fire. There was not a second to lose, and
excitement doubled my strength. The load.of
hay on the wagon had not yet caught. Although
almost stifled with sulphurous smoke, I seized the


830


[SEPTEMBER,







i885.] DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN. 631


shafts and backed the wagon with its burden out
into the rain. Then seizing a fork, I pushed and
tossed off the load so that I could draw our useful
market vehicle to a safe distance. There were a
number of crates and baskets in the barn, also
some tools, and so on. These I had to lose. Has-
tening to the basement, I found that Merton had
succeeded in leading the horse away. There was
still time to smash the window of the poultry-room
and toss the chickens out into the rain. Our cow,
fortunately, was in the meadow by the creek.
By this time, Mr. Jones and Junior were on the
ground, and they were soon followed by Rollins,
Bagley, and others. There was nothing to do
now, however, but to stand aloof and witness the
swift destruction. After the first great gust had
passed, there was fortunately but little wind;
and the flames were prevented from spreading
by the heavy down-pour. In this we stood,
scarcely heeding it in the excitement of the hour.
After a few moments, I hastened to assure my
trembling wife and crying children that the rain
made the house perfectly safe, and that they were
in no danger at all. Then I called to the neigh-
bors to come and stand under the porch-roof.
From this point we saw a great pyramid of fire
and smoke ascending into the black sky. The
rain-drops glittered like fiery hail in the intense
light of the fire and the still vivid flashes of lightning.
This is hard luck, neighbor Durham," said
Mr. Jones, with a long breath.
"My wife and children are safe," I replied,
quietly.
Then we heard the horse neighing and tugging
at its halter. Bagley had the good sense and will
to pull off his coat, tie it around the animal's eyes,
and lead it some distance away from the flames,
with their fatal fascination.
In a very brief space of time, the whole structure,
with my summer crop of hay, gathered with so
much labor, sank down into glowing, hissing em-
bers. I was glad to have the ordeal over, for I
had feared that the wind might rise again. Now
I was assured of the extent of our loss, as well as of
its certainty.
Well, well," said the warm-hearted and impul-
sive Rollins; "when you are ready to build again,
your neighbors will give you a lift. By converting
Bagley into a decent fellow, you 've made all our
barns safer, and we'owe you a good turn. He was
worse than lightning."
I expressed my thanks, adding, This is n't so
bad as you think; the barn was insured."
"Well, now, that 's sensible," said Mr. Jones;
"I '11 sleep better for that fact, and so will you,
Robert Durham. You were wise in time, and
you '11 make a go of it here yet. I 'm sure o' that."


I 'm not in the least discouraged," I answered;
" far worse things might have happened. I 've no-
ticed in my paper that a great many barns have
been struck this summer, so my experience is not
unusual. The only thing to do is to meet such things
patiently and make the best of them. So long as
the family is safe and well, outside matters can be
remedied. Thank you, Mr. Bagley," I continued,
addressing him, as he now led forward the horse.
"You had your wits about you. The old horse
will have to stand under the shed to-night."
"Well, Mr. Durham, the harness is still on
him, all 'cept the head-stall; and he 's quiet now."
Yes," I replied, "in our haste we did n't
throw off the harness before the shower, and it
has turned out very well."
"I tell ye what it is, neighbors," said practical
Mr. Jones; 't is n't too late for Mr. Durham to
plant a big lot of fodder-corn, and that 's about as
good as hay. We '11 turn to and help him get in
a lot."
This was agreed to heartily, and one after
another they wrung my hand and departed, Bag-
ley jogging in a companionable way down the road
with Rollins, whose chickens he had stolen, but
had already paid for. I looked after them and
thought: "Well, I have not lost my barn in
the way some thought at one time I might. As
Rollins suggested, I 'd rather take my chances with
the lightning than with a vicious neighbor. Bagley
acted the part of a good friend to-night."
Then seeing that we could do nothing more,
Merton and I entered the house. I clapped the
boy on the shoulder as I said:
You acted like a man in the emergency, and
I 'm proud of you. To see a young fellow at his
best is almost worth the cost of a barn."
My wife came and put her arm around my neck
as she said:
"You bear up bravely, Robert, but I fear you
are discouraged at heart. To think of such a loss,
just as we were getting started and there were
tears in her eyes.
"Yes," I replied, "it will be a heavy loss for
us, and a great inconvenience, but it might have
been much worse. Let us all sit down, and I '11 tell
you something. You see my training in business
led me to think of the importance of insurance,
and to know the best companies. As soon as the
property became yours, Winifred, I insured the
buildings for nearly all they were worth. The hay
and the things in the barn at the time will prove
a total loss; but it is a loss that we can stand and
almost make good before winter. I tell you hon-
estly that we have no reason to be discouraged.
We shall soon have a better barn than the one
lost; for, by good planning, a better one can be








832 DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN. [SEPTEMBEa,


built for the money that I shall receive. So we
will thank God that we all are safe ourselves, and
go quietly to sleep."
With the passing of the storm, the children had
become quiet, and soon we lost in slumber all
thought of danger and loss.
In the morning, the absence of the barn made a
great gap in our familiar outlook, and brought many
and serious thoughts; but with the light came re-
newed hopefulness. All the scene was flooded
with glorious sunlight, and only the blackened
ruins made the frightful storm of the previous even-
ing seem possible. Nearly all the chickens came
at Winnie's call, looking draggled and forlorn
indeed, but practically unharmed and ready to re-
sume their wonted cheerful clucking after an hour,
in the sunshine. We fitted up for them the old
coop in the orchard, and a part of the ancient and
dilapidated barn which was to have been used for
corn-stalks only. The drenching rain had saved
this and the adjoining shed from destruction, and
now in our great emergency they proved useful
indeed.
The trees around the site of the barn were black-
ened and their foliage burnt to a crisp. Within
the stone foundations the smoke from the still
smoldering debris rose sluggishly. I turned away
from it all, saying:
Let us worry no more over that spilled milk.
Fortunately the greater part of our crates and bas-
kets were under the shed. Take the children and
pick over the raspberry patches carefully once
more, while I. go to work in the garden. That
has been helped rather than injured by the storm,
and, if we take good care of it, will give us plenty
of food for the winter. Work there will revive my
spirits."
The ground was too wet for the use of the hoe,
but there was plenty of weeding to be done, while
I answered the questions of neighbors who came
to offer their sympathy. I also looked around to
see what could be sold, feeling the need of secur-
ing every dollar possible. I found much that was
hopeful and promising. The lima-bean vines had
covered the poles, and toward their base the pods
were filling out. The ears on our early corn were
fit to pull, the beets and onions had attained a
good size; the early peas had given place to tur-
nips, winter cabbages and celery; there were
plenty of green melons on the vines, and more
cucumbers thanwe could use. The pods on the first-
plantingbush-beans were too mature for further use,
and I resolved to let them stand till sufficiently dry
to be gathered and spread in the attic. All that
we had planted had done, or was doing, fairly well,
for the season had been moist enough to insure a
good growth. We had been using new potatoes


since the first of the month, and now I saw that the
vines were so yellow that all in the garden could be
dug at once and sold. They would bring in some
ready money, and I learned from my garden book
that I could still sow on the cleared spaces the
strap-leaved turnips, and they would have time to
mature.
After all, my strawberry-beds gave me the most
hope. There were hundreds of young plants al-
ready rooted, and still a greater number lying
loosely on the ground; so I spent almost the whole
morning in weeding these out and pressing the
young plants on the ends of the runners into the
moist soil, having learned that with such treatment
they form roots and become established in a very
few days.
After dinner, Mr. Jones appeared with his team
and heavy plow, and we selected an acre of upland
meadow where the sod was light and thin.
This will give a fair growth of young corn-
leaves," he said, "by the middle of September.
By that time you '11 have a new barn up, I
s'pose; and after you have cut and dried the corn,
you can put a little of it into the mows in place of
the hay. The greater part will keep better if
stacked outdoors. A horse will thrive on such
fodder almost as well as a cow, 'specially if ye cut
it up and mix some bran-meal with it. We '11
sow the corn in drills a foot apart, and you can
spread a little manure over the top of the ground
after the seed is in. This ground is a trifle thin;
a top-dressin' will help it 'mazin'ly."
Merton succeeded in getting several crates of
raspberries, but said that two or three more
pickings would finish them. Since the time we
had begun to go daily to the landing, we had sent
the surplus of our vegetables to a village store,
with the understanding that we could trade out
the proceeds. We thus had accumulated a little
balance in our favor against which we could draw
in groceries and other requisites.
On the evening of this day I took the crates to
the landing, and found a purchaser for my garden
potatoes, at a dollar a bushel. I also made ar-
rangements at a summer boarding-house for the
sale of our spring chickens, our sweet corn, toma-
toes, and some other vegetables, as fast as we had
them to spare. Now that our income from rasp-
berries was about to cease, it was essential to make
the most of everything else on the place that would
bring money, even if we had to deny ourselves.
It would not do for us to say: We can use this or
that ourselves." The question to be decided was,
whether, if such a thing were sold, the proceeds
would not go further toward our support than the
things themselves. If this should be true of sweet
corn, lima-beans, and even the melons, on which


832


DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


[SEPTEMBER,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


ON THEHUoSol IkVE&I


THE DECK OF THE "MARY POWELL."










VOL. XII.- 53
VOL. XII.-53.


8331


. 885;j






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


the children had set their hearts, we must be chary
in consuming them ourselves. This I explained
in such a way that all except Bobsey saw the wis-
dom, or, rather, the necessity of it. As yet, Bob-
sey's tendencies were those of a consumer, and not
a producer or saver.
Rollins and one or two others came the next
day,,and, with Bagley's help, the corn for fodder
was soon in the ground.
I was now eager to begin the setting of the
strawberry plants in the field where we had put
potatoes, but the recent heavy shower had kept
the latter still green and growing. During the
first week in August, however, I found that they
had attained a good size, and I then began to
dig long rows on the upper side of the patch,
selling in the village, each week, several barrels of
potatoes.
We had now dispensed with Bagley's services, a
good word from me having secured him work else-
where. I found that I could not make arrange-
ments for rebuilding the barn before the last of
August, and we now began to take a little of the
rest we so needed. Our noonings were two or three
hours long. Merton and Junior had time for a good
swim every day, while the younger children were
never weary of wading in the shallows. I insisted,
however, that they should never remain long in
the water at any one time, and now and then
we all took a grain or two of quinine to fortify our
systems against any malarial influences that might
be lurking about at this season.
The children were also permitted to make
expeditions to the mountain-sides for huckleberries
and blackberries; and as a result, we often had
these wholesome fruits on the table, while my wife
canned the surplus for winter use. A harvest
apple-tree also began to be one of the most popu-
lar resorts, and delicious pies made the dinner-hour
more welcome than ever. The greater part of the
apples were sold, however, and this was true also
of the lima-beans, sweet corn, and melons. My
account-book showed that our income was still
running well ahead of our expenses.
Bobsey and Winnie had to receive another
touch of discipline, and learn another lesson from
experience. I had marked with my eye a very
large, perfect musk-melon, and had decided that
it should be kept for seed. They, too, had
marked it; and one morning, thinking themselves
unobserved, they carried it off to the seclusion of
the raspberry bushes, proposing a selfish feast by
themselves.
Merton caught a glimpse of the little marauders,
and followed them. They had cut the melon in two,
and found it as green and tasteless as a pumpkin.
He made me laugh as he described their dismay


and disgust, then their fears and forebodings.
The latter were soon realized, for seeing me in the
distance, he beckoned. As I approached, the
children stole out of the bushes, looking very
guilty.
Merton explained, and I said:
"Very well, you shall have your melon for
dinner,-and nothing else. I intend you shall enjoy
this melon fully. So sit down under yonder tree
and each of you hold half the melon till I release
you. You have already learned that you can
feast your eyes only.
There they were kept, hour after hour, each
holding a half of the green melon. The dinner-
bell rang, and they knew that we had ripe melons
and green corn; while nothing was given them
but a little bread and water. Bobsey howled and
Winnie sobbed, but my wife and I agreed that
such tendencies toward dishonesty and selfishness
merited a lasting lesson, and they received one.
At supper they were as hungry as little wolves;
and as I explained that the big melon had been
kept for seed, and that if it had been left to ripen
they should have had their share, they felt that
they had cheated themselves completely.
Don't you see, children," I concluded, "that
to act honestly is not only right, but that it is
always best for us in the end."
Then I asked: Merton, what have the Bagley
children been doing since they stopped picking
raspberries for us? "
I 'm told they 've been gathering blackberries
and huckleberries in the mountains, and selling
them."
"That's promising. Now I wish you to pick
out a good-sized water-melon and half dozen musk-
melons, and I 'l1 leave them at Bagley's cottage
to-morrow night as I go down to the village. In
old times they would have stolen our crop; now
they shall share in it."
When I delivered the present the following even-
ing, the children welcomed the gift with mans
exclamations of delight, and Bagley himself was
touched.
I hear good accounts of you and your chil-
dren," I said, "and I 'm glad of it. Save the
seeds of these melons and plant a lot for yourself.
By the way, Bagley, we'll plow your garden for you
this fall, and you can put a better fence around it.
If you '11 do this, I '11 share my garden seeds with
you next spring, and you can raise enough on that
patch of ground to help support your family."
I 'll take you up cried the man, and I 'm
thankful to ye."
God bless you and Mrs. Durham !." added his
wife. Now we 're beginning to live like human
beings."


[SEPTEMBER,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


The Moodna creek had now become very low,
and not over half of its stony bed was covered with
water. At many points, light, active feet could find
their way across and not get wet. Junior now had
a project on hand, of which he and Merton had
often spoken of late. A holiday was given to the
boys, and they went to work to construct an eel-
weir and trap. With trousers well rolled up, they
selected a point on one side of the creek where the
water was deepest, and here they left an open pas-
sage-way for the current. On each side of this
they began to roll large stones, and on these
placed smaller stones, raising two long obstructions
to the natural flow. These continuous obstruc-
tions slanted obliquely up-stream, directing the
main current to the open passage, which was only
about two feet wide, with two posts on each side
narrowing it still more. In this they placed the
trap, a long box made of lath, sufficiently open to
let the water run through it, and having a pe-
culiar opening at the upper end where the current
began to rush down the narrow passage-way. The
box rested closed on the gravelly bottom, and was
fastened to the posts. Short, close-fitting slats
from the bottom and top of the box, at its upper
end, sloped inward, till they made a narrow open-
ing. All its other parts were eel-tight. The eels
coming down with the current which had been di-
rected toward the entrance of the box, as has been
explained, passed into it, and there they would re-
main. They never had the wit to find the narrow
entrance by which they had entered. This turned
out to be useful sport, for every morning the boys
lifted their trap and took out a goodly number of
eels; and when the squirmers were nicely dressed
and browned, they proved delicious food.
In the comparative leisure which the children
enjoyed during August, they felt amply repaid for
the toil of the previous months. We also man-
aged to secure two great gala-days. The first was a
trip to the sea-shore; and this was a momentous
event.
The "Mary Powell," a swift steamboat, touched
every morning at the Maizeville landing. I
learned that, from its wharf in New York,
another steamboat started for Coney Island, and
came back to the city in time for us to return
on the Mary Powell on the same day. Thus
we could secure a delightful sail down the river
and bay, and also have several hours on the beach.
My wife and I talked over this little outing, and
found that by taking our lunch with us, it would be
inexpensive. I saw Mr. Jones, and induced him
and his wife, with Junior, to join us. Then the
children were told of our plan, and their hurrahs
made the old house ring. Now that we were
in for it, we proposed no half-way measures. Four


plump spring chickens were killed and roasted,
and to these were added such a quantity of ham-
sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs, that I declared
that we were provisioned for a week. My wife
nodded at Bobsey, and said:
Wait and see "
Whom do you think we employed to mount guard
during our absence? None other than Mr. Bagley.
Mr. Jones said that it was like asking a wolf to
guard the flock, for his prejudices yielded slowly;
but I felt sure that this proof of trust would do the
man more good than a dozen sermons. Indeed, he
did seem wonderfully pleased with his task, and said:
"Ye'11 find I've 'arned my dollar when ye get
back."
The children scarcely slept, in their glad antici-
pation, and were up with the sun. Mr. and Mrs.
Jones drove down in their light wagon, while Jun-
ior joined our children in another straw-ride,
packed in between the lunch-baskets. We had
ample time after reaching the landing to put our
horse and vehicle in a safe place, and then we
watched for the Mary Powell." Soon we saw her
approaching Newtown, four miles above, then
speed toward and round up to the wharf, with the
ease and grace of a swan. We scrambled aboard,
smiled at by all. I do not suppose we formed, with
our lunch-baskets, a very stylish group; but that
was the least of our troubles. I am confident that
none of the elegant people we brushed against
were half so happy as were we.
We stowed away our baskets and then gave
ourselves up to the enjoyment of the lovely High-
land scenery, and to watching the various kinds of
craft that we were constantly passing. Winnie and
Bobsey had been placed under bonds for good be-
havior, and were given to understand that they
must exercise the grace of keeping moderately
still. The sail down the river and bay was a
long, grateful rest to us older people, and I saw
with pleasure that my wife was enjoying every mo-
ment and that the fresh sea breezes were fanning
color into her cheeks. Plump Mrs. Jones dozed
and smiled, and wondered at the objects we passed,
for she had never been much of a traveler; while
her husband's shrewd eyes took in everything, and
he often made us laugh by his quaint comments.
Junior and Merton were as alert as hawks. They
early made the acquaintance of deck-hands who
good-naturedly answered their numerous questions.
I took the younger children on occasional exploring
expeditions, but never allowed them to escape my
reach, for I soon learned that Bobsey's promises sat
lightly on his conscience.
At last we reached the great Iron Pier at Coney
Island,which we all traversed, with wondering eyes.
We established ourselves in a large pavilion, fit-


835







DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


ted up for just such picnickers as ourselves. Be-
neath us stretched the sandy beach. We elderly
people were glad enough to sit down and rest, but
the children forgot even the lunch-baskets, in their
eagerness to run upon the sand in search of shells.
All went well until an unusually high wave came
rolling in. The children scrambled out of its way,
with the exception of Bobsey, and he was caught,
and tumbled over, and lay kicking in the white
foam. In a moment I sprang down the steps,
picked him up, and bore him to his mother.
His clothing had been deluged; and now what
was to be done? After inquiry and consultation, I
found that I could procure for him a little bathing-
dress which would answer during the heat of the
day, and an old colored woman promised to have
his garments dry in an hour. So the one cloud on
our pleasure proved to have a very bright lining,
for Bobsey, since he was no longer afraid of the
water, could roll in the sand and gentle surf to his
heart's content.
Having devoured a few sandwiches to keep up
our courage, we all procuredbathing-dresses, even
Mrs. Jones having been laughingly compelled by
her husband to follow the general example. When
we all gathered in the passage-way leading to the
water, we were convulsed with laughter at our ridic-
ulous appearance; but there were so many others
in like plight that we were scarcely noticed. Mr.
Jones remarked that if "we could take a stroll
through Maizeville now, there would n't be a crow
left in town."
Mrs. Jones could not be induced to go beyond a
point where the water was over a foot or two deep,
and the waves rolled her around like an amiable
porpoise. Merton and Junior were soon swim-
ming fearlessly, the latter wondering, meanwhile,
at the buoyant quality of the salt water as com-
pared with that of our creek. My wife, Mousie
and Winnie allowed me to take them beyond the
breakers, and soon grew confident. In fifteen
minutes I sounded recall, and we all emerged,
lank Mr. Jones now making, in very truth, an
ideal scarecrow. Bobsey's dry clothes were
brought, and half an hour later we all were
clothed, and, as Mr. Jones remarked, "for a
wonder, in our right minds."
In due time we arrived at home, tired, sleepy,
yet content with the fact that we had filled one day
with enjoyment and added to our stock of health.
The next morning proved that Bagley had kept
his word. Everything was in order, and the
amount of work accomplished in the garden
showed that he had been on his mettle.
The month of August was now well advanced.
We had been steadily digging the potatoes in the
field and selling them in their unripened con-


edition, until half the acre had been cleared. The
vines in the lower half of the patch were now
growing very yellow, and I decided to leave them
until the tubers had thoroughly ripened, for winter
use. By the twentieth of the month we had all
the space that had been cleared, half an acre--
set in Dutchess and Wilson strawberries; and
the plants first set were green and vigorous, show-
ing a disposition to renew their running tendencies.
But these runners were promptly cut off, so that
the plants might grow strong enough to give a
good crop of fruit the following June.
I now began to tighten the reins on the children,
and we all put in longer hours of work.
During the month we gathered a few bushels
of plums on the place. My wife preserved some,
and the rest were sold at the boarding-houses and
village stores; for Mr. Bogart had written that
when I could find a home market for small quan-
tities of produce, it would pay me better than send-
ing it to the city. I kept myself informed as
to city prices, and found that he had given me
good and disinterested advice. Therefore, we
managed to dispose of our small crop of early
pears and peaches in the same manner as with the
plums. Every day convinced me of the wisdom
of buying a place already stocked with fruit; for
although the first cost was greater, we had im-
mediately secured an income which promised to
leave a margin of profit after meeting all expenses.
During the last week of August the potatoes
were fully ripe, and Merton, Winnie, Bobsey and
I worked manfully, sorting the large from the
small, as they were gathered. The crop turned
out very well, especially on the lower side of the
field, where the ground had been rather richer
and moister than in the upper portion.
I permitted Merton to dig by spells only, for it
was hard work for him; but he seemed to enjoy
throwing out the smooth, great, white-coated fel-
lows, and they made a pretty sight as they lay in
thick rows behind us, drying, for a brief time, in
the sun. They were picked up, put in barrels,
drawn to the dry, cool shed, and well covered
from the light. Mr. Jones had told me that as
soon as potatoes had dried off after digging, they
ought to be kept in the dark, as far as possible,
since too much light made them tough and bitter.
Now that they were ripe, it was important that they
should be dug promptly, for I had read that a
warm rain was apt to start the new potatoes grow-
ing, and this spoiled them for table use. So I said:
"We will stick to this.task until it is finished,
and then we shall have another outing. I am
almost ready to begin rebuilding the barn; but
before I do so, I wish to visit Houghton Farm, and
shall take you all with me. I may obtain some


836


[SEPTEMBER,






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


-, 0, X -
E1~- FI &4u.~~r
g ~


t-^^y y DOMESTIcATE0
C CANI4ADA WILD CEESL.


S, .CRUSOE ISLAND.

SOME OF THE SIGHTS AT THE GREAT STOCK-FARM.


837


J-






DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN.


ideas which will be useful, even in my small outlay
of money."
So we dug away at the potatoes, and gathered
like ants until we had nearly a hundred bushels
stored. As they were only fifty cents a bushel, I
resolved to keep the rest of the crop and sell dur-
ing the following winter and spring, when I might
need money more than at present, and also get
better prices.
Then, one day toward the end of August, we all
started, after an early dinner, for the Farm, Junior
going with us as usual.
Houghton Farm, distant a few miles, is a mag-
nificent estate of about one thousand acres; and
the outbuildings upon it are princely in com-
parison with anything I could erect. They had
been constructed, however, on practical and scien-
tific principles, and I hoped that a visit might
suggest to me some useful hints. Sound princi-
ples might be applied, in a modest way, to even
such a structure as would come within my means.
At any rate, a visit to such a farm would be full of
interest and pleasure.
We had been told that the large-minded and
liberal owner of this model farm welcomed visitors,
and so we had no doubts as to our reception.
Nor were we disappointed when, having skirted
broad, rich fields for some distance, we turned to
the right, down a long, wide lane, bordered by
beautiful shrubbery, to the great buildings, each
one numbered conspicuously. We were met cour-
teously by Major Alvord, the agent in charge of
the entire estate; and when I had explained the
object of my visit, he kindly gave us a few mom-
ents, showing us through the different barns and
stables. Our eyes grew large with wonder as we
saw the complete appliances for carrying on an
immense stock-farm. The summer crops had been
gathered, and we exclaimed at the hundreds of
tons of hay, fodder, and straw stored in the mows.
When we came to look at the sleek Jersey cows
and calves, with their fawn-like faces, our admi-
ration knew no bounds. The children went into
ecstasies over the pretty, innocent faces of the
Jersey calves.
We next went to see a great Norman mare,
and the large, clumsy colt at her side. Then we
all admired beautiful stallions with fiery eyes and
arching necks, the superb carriage-horses, and the
sleek, strong work-animals and their stalls, finished
in fine, hard wood. Soon afterward, Bobsey went
wild over the fat little Essex pigs, black as coals.
Possess your soul in patience, Bobsey," I said.
"With our barn, I am going to make a sty, and
then we shall begin to keep pigs."
I had had no good place for them thus far, and
felt that we had attempted enough for beginners.


Moreover, I could not endure to keep pigs in the
muddy, common pens in ordinary use, feeling that
we could never eat the pork produced under such
conditions.
After a visit to the sheep and poultry depart-
ments, each occupying a large farm by itself, we
felt that we had seen much to think and talk over.
It was hard to get Winnie away from the poul-
try houses and yards, where each celebrated breed
was kept scrupulously by itself. There were a
thousand hens, besides innumerable young chick-
ens. We were also shown incubators, which, in
spring, hatch little chickens by hundreds.
A visit to Crusoe Island" entertained the chil-
dren more than anything else. A mountain
stream had been dammed so as to make an island.
On the surrounding waters floated fleets of water-
fowl, ducks and geese of various breeds, and, chief
in interest, a flock of Canada wild-geese, domes-
ticated. Here we could look closely at these great
wild migrants that, in spring and fall, pass and re-
pass high up in the sky, in flocks, flying in the
form of a harrow or the two sides of a triangle,
meanwhile sending out cries that, in the distance,
sound strange and weird.
Leaving my wife and children admiring these
birds and their rustic houses on the island, I went
with Major Alvord to his offices, and saw the fine
scientific appliances for carrying on agricultural
experiments designed to extend the range of accu-
rate and practical knowledge. Not only was the
great farm planted and reaped, the blooded stock
grown and improved by careful breeding, but, ac-
companying all this labor, was maintained a care-
ful system of experiments tending to develop and
establish that supreme science,-the successful
culture of the soil. Major Alvord evidently de-
served his reputation for doing the work thoroughly
and intelligently, and I was glad to think that
there were men in the land, like the proprietor of
Houghton Farm, who were willing to spend thou-
sands annually in enriching the rural classes by
bringing within their reach the knowledge that is
power.
I was thoughtful as we drove home, and at last
my wife slyly lifted a penny toward my face.
No," I said, laughing, "my thoughts shall not
cost you even a penny. What I have seen to-
day has made clearer what I have believed before.
There are two distinct ways of securing success in
outdoor work. One is ours, and the other is after
the plan of Houghton Farm. Ours is the only
way possible for us- that of working a small place
and performing the labor, so far as possible, within
ourselves. If I had played 'boss,' as Bagley some-
times calls me, and hired the labor which we have
done ourselves, the children meanwhile idle, we


838


[SEPTEMBER,






THE OWL, THE PUSSY-CAT, AND THE LITTLE BOY.


should soon have come to a disastrous end in our
country experiment. The fact that we all have
worked hard, and wisely, too, in the main, and have
employed extra help only when there was more
than we could do, will explain the balance in our
favor. I believe that one of the chief causes of
failure on the part of people in our circumstances
is that they employ help to do what they should
have done themselves, and that it doesn't and can't
pay small farmers and fruit-growers to attempt
much beyond what they can take care of, most
of the year, with their own hands. Then there's
the other method,- that of large capital carrying
on a farm as we have seen to-day. The farm
then becomes like a great factory or mercantile
house. There must be at the head of everything
a large organizing brain capable of introducing
and enforcing thorough system, and of skillfully
directing labor and investment, so as to secure the
most money from the least outlay. A farm such
as we have just seen would be like a bottom-
less pit for money in bungling, careless hands."


"I 'm content with our own little place and
modest ways," said my wife. "I never wish our
affairs to grow so large that we can't talk them
over every night, if so inclined."
"Well," I replied, "I never should have made
a great merchant in town, and I am content to be
a small farmer in the country. The insurance
money will be available in a few days, and we
shall begin building at once."
The next day, Merton and I cleared away the
rest of the debris in and around the foundations of
the barn; and before night the first load of lumber
arrived from the carpenter who had taken the
contract.
This forerunner of bustling workmen, and all
the mystery of fashioning crude material into
something looking like the plan over which we had
all pored so often, was more interesting to the chil-
dren than the construction of Solomon's temple.
To-morrow the stone-masons come," I said at
supper; "and we are promised a new barn, com-
plete, by October."


(To be concluded.)


THE OWL, THE PUSSY-CAT, AND THE LITTLE BOY.

BY J. G. FRANCIS.


839







840


QUITE a number of years
ago an old gentleman,
while walking through a
large market in one of the
southern cities, stopped
before a booth bearing
the sign, Shedders,
Shrimps, and Hard-shells."
In a box, reposing on
soft beds of seaweed, were
A BABY-CRAB. layers of crabs all busily
engaged, so it seemed, in
blowing bubbles that glistened in the sun with many
rich tints and colors. Some of the hard-shells had
numbers of eggs attached to them, and as the
old gentleman stood looking at them, the thought
entered his mind, "Why not start a crab-farm and
save all the trouble of fishing for crabs ? "
As he was a very enterprising old gentleman,
the project was forthwith put into execution. An
immense floating tank was built, through which
the water was allowed to flow in and out; and in
this hundreds of crabs carrying eggs were placed.
An old colored man was engaged to attend to
their wants, and in a short time he reported that
the bottom of the tank contained numbers of very
small empty shells, but that no young crabs were
to be seen. The crab-farmer thereupon took some
of the water out in a glass jar, and found to his
surprise that it contained vast numbers of hideous
little creatures with enormous horns. Here, then,
was the trouble; the horned animals were eating
the eggs, thought the old gentleman. So the col-
ored man was directed to strain them out, and did
so with such effect that they soon disappeared.
Not until the crab-farm had been given up as a
failure by the old gentleman, did he learn that
these same little horned animals that he had
worked so hard to get rid of were the young crabs
themselves.
He was not the only person that has been so
deceived, however. Only half a century ago these
little horned creatures were considered separate
and distinct animals, until finally a naturalist made
the discovery that they were the crabs themselves,
in one of the curious early stages of their growth.
Soon after leaving the egg, the baby-crab, with
its queer horns, is apparently seized, with violent
convulsions, and in a moment wriggles out of its
skin and appears in an entirely new guise, called
the "large-eyed stage. The new shell hardens


at once, and a few moments later the crab may be
seen swimming about as before. The eyes are still
enormous, and what were swimming legs in the
first stage are how assistants in preparing food, the
horns having almost disappeared.
Soon other curious convulsions occur,-not,
however, so violent as the first,-and the little
animal slowly works itself out of its skin again, and
sinks securely upon the bottom, where in two days
a new shell has hardened, and its existence as a
regular crab commences,-all the changes, in
some species, having occurred during four days.
Such is the babyhood of crabs in general through-
out the world.
On the beaches of the Middle States the sand-
crabs and "calling-crabs are the most common,
and in Normandy the sand-crabs are the means of
great sport to the frequenters of the beach. A
number are caught and decorated with the colors
of their captors, who arrange them in a row, each
keeping a finger on the back of his champion. At
the word "Go," they release them, the entire body
of crabs rushing down the beach in a headlong,
or endwise, race to the sea, the owners following
eagerly after them to note the first crab that reaches
the water and to claim the prize.
These crabs live in holes in the sand, and at the
beginning of winter pass into a deep sleep, called
hibernation; in the spring they dig their way out,
showing great skill as miners.
But it is as articles of food that crabs are most
valued. Thousands of barrels of them are sent to
the markets of the great cities; and in southern
countries they take the place of the lobster. In
the United States the great green crab, hard or
soft, is preferred for the table.
The most noted locality for catching them is the
waters of Chesapeake Bay, in the extensive mud flats
about the mouth of the James River. The process
of "treading" for them consists in walking over
the flats, feeling with bare feet for the soft-shell
crabs; and as there is a strong belief among the
darkies who do the treading, that a soft-shell crab
is always guarded by a hard-shell mate, the walking
is not free from suspense. The soft-shell is easily
felt and lifted up by a dexterous movement of
the toes, or by a scoop-net; but sometimes the in-
quisitive foot of the treader interrupts a meeting of
hard-shells, and a few nips from these are enough
to make the agonized treader hurry into his skiff as
rapidly as possible.


[SEPTEMBER,


SPIDERS OF THE SEA.




SPIDERS OF THE SEA.

BY C. F. HOLDER.






z885.] SPIDERS OF THE SEA. 641


The hard-shell crabs are caught in deeper and clearer water. An iron barrel-hoop with mosquito
netting bound upon it constitutes the net, which, when baited and lowered into the water, is soon
filled with the pugnacious fellows. When hauled in they cling to one .n another, those


J ( *>r 'u. t
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HAND-SHELL HOLDING ON TO ONE ANOTHER. branded by their owners and tossed into a single car, which
when full is towed to the nearest market By the upsetting of one of these cars, it was discovered that
the' crab had a decided love for home, or special localities. A car alongside the dock at Falmouth,








842 SPIDER'S OF THE SEA. SEPTEMBER,


England, was broken up by a vessel, and all the
marked crabs made their escape. A few days later,
however, great numbers of them were retaken at
Lizard Point, where they had been caught origi-


* -. :- t -, ---' 2 -
,,"'~~,~~~'-'--" '' 4:-

-.--:-




,F -1


THE GREAT JAPANESE CRAB.

'nally. After escaping from the car and into the
water, they had traveled back to their sea-home,
a distance of eleven miles from Falmouth.
Among the most remarkable and the largest of
crabs is one which is highly esteemed in Japan
as an article of food. Its chief claws are each
five feet in length, measuring from ten to twelve
feet between the tips of the nippers, and pre-
senting an astonishing spectacle when entangled
in the nets and hauled aboard the boats. The
body is almost triangular and comparatively
small. With their slow, measured movements
and powerful weapons of defense, these crabs
are the giants of the spiders of the sea. Pro-
fessor Ward, who has collected them in Japan,
states that they have a remarkable habit of leaving
the water at night and crawling up the banks of
the river, presumably to feed, and that there they
are sought by the crab-hunters. A story is told
of a party of fishermen who had camped out
upon the river bank, and one of whom aroused
the others in the night by yells and screams.
Running to the spot, they found that one of these
monster crabs in wandering over the flats had
accidentally crawled over the prostrate fisherman.
He awoke with the great claws moving about him,


and it would be hard to tell whether the man or
the crab was the more terrified.
Those of the ST. NICHOLAS readers who live in
the vicinity of Boston will find a fine specimen of
this great sea-spider, though not of the largest size,,
in the l\[isi um of C:oimpardriv\ Zio,.'olu, Iat C:mn-
br;d*.:, r.T : ai h it. tt s.
SiIrp'i.,rii een the grc.-t Ja.inC.r -e crab in
r--:'.*.' l,,.-v s th I.~\e l amic m .i' palm. or robber
Sr ib, L .! tL'i Inriri a l:ind h nrilit that
I.ceccd- t.... ;,' i0n ici iii. In Ih.- '-- pi :e I:-
jni., -di', -.r.- .:,i .-id ri g ',-r a d, & l:-.a =-. and at
l-Il.I Fj .-.i :.:,r ;,,l:lni ,r.r -v. t, ct th,- h,-,u ,.: 1,l"
tl'i t _- ,- -r i r *.- le rir l ti, it r,:- I-,- 'ii ; i'.n t':tl,-I' d f'.r
th: t i-A-k lik, pyic. Th, pali-.r:Lb i: luu d in


A ROBBER-CRAB LIFTS A GOAT FROM THE GROUND.

the cocoa-nut groves, living in holes beneath the
trees and subsisting upon the fruit, tearing the
husks from the nuts with its powerful claws and
conveying it to its nest for use as a lining, or bed.


842


SPIDEik,'8 OF THE SEA.


[SEPTEMBER,







SPIDERS OF THE SEA.


The nests are often pillaged by the Malays, who
use the shreds of husks in calking their vessels
and in the manufacture of mats and various arti-
cles. The palm-crabs possess no little intelligence,
as they always open the end of
the cocoa-nut that contains the
eye-spots; shred by shred the .A':..;
husk is torn away, and finally, '' .- :-
when the eyes appear, the crab .'
hammers them repeatedly with "F'
its large claw until an opening is .
made. Sometimes the crab will
secure so firm a hold upon the
nut with its large claw that it can '.: "
dash it against a rock until the
nut-shell is broken.
The robber-crab of the Samoan
Islands, called the "Ou Ou,"
adopts still another method.* It
first ascends the tree and brings
down the fruit; then, after husk-
ing it, the crab returns again to
the tree and hurls or drops the .
nut to the ground until it is '
broken. One naturalist tells of :-
a robber-crab that seized a goat
by the ears as it was passing along
under a tree, and fairly lifted it "-' '
from the ground.
There is another crab which is
equally powerful, and Captain
Mosely informed the late Mr. Dar-
win, that upon confining one in a
tin cracker-box it forced down the ;
edges of the metal, punching nu- .
merous holes through the tin, and
ultimately escaped. In appear-
ance they resemble huge spiders.
They stand a foot or more from
the ground, and brandish their
enormous claws with a clattering -
noise as they move along, a warn-
ing to all intruders. They deposit
their eggs in the sea.
The common hermit-crabs, to r" -:'
which the robber-crabs are re-
lated, are found-both on land and PIRATE
in the sea, and I have frequently
seen a large hermit-crab near Loggerhead Key,
Florida, carrying about a heavy shell with perfect
ease. In'some places, the beach is almost entirely
formed of shells, each the home of a land hermit-
crab, and I have often watched the hermit-crabs of
Bird Key during the breeding season of a sea-bird
called the Noddy, when a continual struggle for
food is carried on between them and the birds.
The Noddy builds its nest upon the low bay-


cedars, the nest being merely a mass of dried twigs
dropped upon the tree in the rudest manner possible.
When the young bird is hatched, it is kept well
supplied with small fishes bry the parent noddy;





L~a-

--..Jo. '-


R'.





-CRABS STEALING A FISH FROM A YOUNG SEA-BIRD.


.I
.'-. 41


but the arrival of these luxuries is closely watched
by a horde of pirate-crabs. The large purple-
backed land-crab crawls from holes in the sand;
the red-tinted fellow known as the Grapsus ap-
pears as if by magic, while innumerable hermit-
crabs with shells of every conceivable pattern move
onward toward the nest. Some climb neighbor-
ing bushes, or low trees, and drop down upon
the baby-bird; others ascend the trunk of the


* On the authority of Mr. T. H. Hood, in his "Notes on a Cruise in H. M. S. Fawn' in the Western Pacific."


1885.]


843







$-PIDERS OF THE SEA,


tree, until finally every branch and twig about the
nest is occupied by a robber-crab, while the young
bird, with wing erect, vainly endeavors to .retain
.the fish. It is soon in the claws of the advancing


_4




f.a :r".'


';






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-r:
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.1 4:
i.t:I~ --v
l.~r-l- ~,
r
r ,'. : -'... -*
:--:~;
~a-~'h~---
~~~ liEjB~i~~/iKf:


THE LAND-CRABS' MARCH TO THE SEA.

THE LAND-CRABS MARCH TO THE SEA.


The purple, or. land-crab, is found all over the
world, and in the West India Islands they commit
great ravages upon the plantations of sugar-cane.
On.some .of the more unfrequented islands in May
or June, these crabs make a re-
markable pilgrimage. They live
Sfor the greater part of the year
upon the high, lands several
Smiles from the sea; but once a
year, at the season named, they
leave their holes, and move at
night invast columns, often three
miles long and two hundred and
fifty feet wide, to the sea, where
.-l they deposit their eggs,
Nothing seems to deter this
--. great army; the march being
kept up with an undaunted per-
:-. ;-'. severance that overcomes all ob-
stacles. At this time they are
S.. caught in large numbers for the
table, as on the return march to
S? the hills they are in poor condi-
tion, and soon undergo the molt-
ing process.
Qne of the most interesting
examples of intelligence among
S the sea-crabs, is that. of a her-
mit-crab, which seems to have a
s ~perfect understanding with a sea-
anemone, that fastens itself upon
r its shell, and shares the-food the
crab may capture. This might
be considered an accidental oc-
currence, were it not that the
crab proves its friendship by as-
sisting the anemone to move to
its new shell, when, by reason of
its growth, the crab has to change
its quarters; and if the anemone
is not satisfied with one shell, the
crab tries others until its friend
is suited.
SA similar friendship exists
--. between, another hermit-crab,
found in the Mediterranean Sea,
-g ' and an anemone which accom-
panies it. Inthiscase the friend-
ship is not. altogether disinter-


throng, that, closing in from all sides, unites in ested, as the anemone is used as a decoy by the
a general battle, in which the piratical crabs fall wily crab, which gives it board, lodging, and tray-
in a shower to the ground, where the combat is eling accommodations, in return for its services.
renewed, and the largest crab finally bears away The crabs, called by scientists Dromice, encour-
the game. age the growth of various animals and plants upon
The Grafsus displays no fear of the young bird, their backs, and the spider-crab of our own shores
and-a well-known scientist once saw a crab of this known as the decorator, is invariably found bearing
kind capture and carry off the young-noddyitself. upon its back. a thick growth of sea-weed, placed


844


[SEPTEMBER,







SPIDERS OF THE SEA.


there by itself. Many crabs so rese
that other protection is unnecessary;
crab is so called because of certain r
its back that

a ianr. .

/ I


HENSLOW'S CRAB CATCHING FISH


while the Glass-crabs are so transpare
can be read through them, and being
to detect, they readily escape the watt
hungry fishes.
In the selection of their homes, the
curious characteristics. Some of the
row in the sand, arranging the opening
large claw fits it perfectly, forming
door that rises up to grasp any intrud
entrance. Certain crabs travel about
of turtles; there is one kind that lives ii
of a sea-cucumber, while another crab
ing within a large Brazilian star-fish. Or
of the crab family lives in the folds of t
while another clings to the feathersofa ce


mble stones In the deep sea some crabs are blind, while others
the Mask- have wonderful phosphorescent eyes and are veritable
markings on lamps of that silent world. Equally curious are the
cause it to surface-crabs,
,mi, 1-ar colored with
'fla .: : wondrous tints
and resembl-
ing sea-weeds
so perfectly
that the very .
Sbirds and fish-
es fail to see
them. Many
S crabs are fa-
mous swim-
mers, and the THE MASK-CRAB.
one known as
Henslow's swimming crab, often seen many miles
from land, will dart into a school of herrings, seize
a fish in its knife-like jaws, and cling to it until its
victim floats dead upon the surface.
The crabs, or sea-spiders, purify the water by
their habits as scavengers, as they prey upon











.. "





nt that print
thus difficult
chful eyes of

crabs show
hermits bur-
g so that the
an animated
er that seeks
on the backs
n the interior A CRAB CAPTURING A BIRD.
is found liW-
helittlefellow small sea-animals living and dead; but they
hejelly-fish, become in turn victims themselves to the fishes of
rtain sea-bird. the deep sea.


1885.]






A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME.


BEN SCATTERGOOD felt that his talents were
running to waste. It was discouraging for a boy
who intended to be the greatest financier of the
age to have to till the soil on his father's little
farm in that part of the township which was called
"Pharaoh's Heart," because it was so stony, and
to have to pick huckleberries and do chores for
the neighbors, to earn money to buy his Sunday
shoes.
He did not expect to burst upon the world a
full-fledged Rothschild or Vanderbilt; but driving
a plow, and digging turnips, and milking cows were
occupations that did n't seem even to pave the way
to a great financial career; Ben was very discontent-
ed. And there was Tobias, who really loved farm-
ing, and yet he was to be sent to the city to learn
business, because he was lame and left-handed and
his father thought he was n't fit for anything
else. Ben was sometimes tempted to run away,
but he felt that it would be mean; for his father
had rheumatism, which grew worse and worse
every year, and there was a brood of little ones,
all younger than Ben, and going down as evenly as
a flight of stairs until one came to the two pairs of
twins, Jed and Jethro, and Mirandyo and Maro-
sybo. Ben felt that he was needed at home.
Yet he also felt a daily-growing conviction that
handling, pumpkins and potatoes was a very
tame occupation for a boy who wished to be hand-
ling stocks and bonds; and that keeping the twins


straightened out was but a paltry use for
talents that might make their owner a
power in Wall street.
When the weekly paper found its way to
"Pharaoh's Heart," Ben always retired with
it to the nearest available seclusion, generally
the hay-loft, and eagerly scanned the finan-
cial column; and he thought he understood
all about bulls and bears, and puts and calls, and
margins and corners, as well as he understood
when to plant corn, or when the trout in Stony
Brook were most likely to bite.
But, alas of what avail was such knowledge to
a boy who had to work and spend his time on a
stony little farm in Quebasket, where stocks and
bonds were almost unknown ?
Strangely enough, it was Tobias who suggested
to Ben a great idea,--Tobias, who was the proud
but embarrassed possessor of a dollar and nineteen
cents, with which the speckled hen had come off
triumphant after the vicissitudes of hatching and
rearing a brood of ducklings. It was particularly
gratifying, because the speckled hen had hitherto
met with reverses in all her business undertakings,
and Tobias had cherished gloomy forebodings that
she would die in debt.
But even now perplexity was casting a shadow
over Tobias's joy. "It's queer, but I declare I have
n't anything particular to do with that dollar 'n'
nineteen cents he said, limping into the barn,
where Ben sat on the meal-chest, moodily snap-
ping corn at the cross old gander.
Ben stared at him in astonishment. This was
an entirely new experience for one of the Scatter-
good family. To have a great many things to do
with money, but no money, was their every-day
condition.
Tobias might be slow, but he was not frivolous.
" I might buy some turkeys' eggs and sell 'em,"
he said. Turkeys are more exciting' than hens,
but then they 're more risky, too "
"Turkeys You tried that last year, and only
five eggs hatched, out of a dozen, and the gander
kicked one of the young ones to death, and one
was drowned, trying to swim with the ducks, and


846


[SEPTEMBER,


* *1 1







A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME.


one ran its head into the rat-trap, and the horse
stepped on one, and the other just up and died-
because it was lonesome, I suppose. A great
investment tkat was said Ben contemptuously.
I suppose I had better put the money away,"
said Tobias. "Eliakim Tuesley said, the other
day, that he had thirteen dollars and ninety-one
cents in an old stocking. There was a tin bank
in our house it would seem more appropri't to
put it in a bank than in an old stocking-but
some of the twins hammered it all to pieces trying
to get a copper cent out."
"That is a great kind of a bank! If I were
five years old, I might put my money down the
chimney of a little tin house painted red," said
Ben, with withering scorn.
"I should just like to know what you would
do with it!" said Tobias hotly. "It 's easy
to tell a fellow what is n't the best thing-"
I should make it grow, just as I would corn,"
said Ben, with an air of superiority. "If you could
put it where it would double itself in a year, in
ten years you 'd have -let 's see how much,"-
and Ben began to make calculations.
I should like to know where I could make it
double itself in a year," said Tobias.
Ben was in a brown study.
"There ought to be a bank in Quebasket," he
said at length. "Tobe, I think I shall set up a
bank! "
Tobias gazed at his brother in astonishment, not
unmingled with admiration.
"It 's a pretty big undertaking, but if any boy
can do it, you can, Ben," he said.
If I make it go," said Ben," you shall be the
first depositor, and I '11 pay you ten per cent. for
your dollar 'n' nineteen cents."
Tobias was not equal to the task of computing
his year's interest without time and a pencil; but
ten per cent. sounded well, and dazzling visions
of wealth rose before his eyes.
"The old work-shop is n't just what I should
choose for a bank-building, but it will do," said
Ben. "It 's lucky that we happen to live on
the main road; it would n't look well to have a
bank out in the field." And then remembering
that Tobias could paint letters of astonishing even-
ness, he said:
You may paint the sign, Tobe, if you 'd like
to. I've thought of a name that will sound well,
-The Quebasket Double-Penny Bank. Make
the sign big and showy. We must make every-
thing attractive 1 I 'm going to talk to the fellows;
and I say, Tobe, if it turns out well you shall be
cashier,- no, you can't reckon quickly enough
for that, but you shall have some position."
That had a very agreeable sound to Tobias's


ears, and his faith in Ben was great; but, never-
theless, his prudent mind suggested a painful
doubt.
"I s'pose I am slow, Ben," he said: "but I can't
see how you are going to pay the interest, and
salaries, and things. Money wont grow of itself
in the old shop."
Well, I should think you were slow! exclaimed
Ben. "What do banks generally do with their
money? I shall lend it."
Lend it Tobias actually turned pale at the
thought of his "dollar'n'nineteen cents." "I guess
you don't know Quebasket boys so well as I do !
There was Lem Rollins,-he went off to Boston
with my jack-knife in his pocket; and Zach Hal-
stead broke my musk-rat trap all to pieces and
never offered to buy me another; and Tom Jen-
kins has owed me thirteen cents these two years;
and when I ask him for it, he says times are very
hard! Of course some boys would pay- "
"You must be clever to think I shall lend
money without security Of course boys can't do
things just as men do,- the fellows have n't real
estate,- but I shall take mortgages on personal
property. Tom Jenkins's gun is worth eight or
nine dollars, and he '11 not borrow any money
from my bank without giving a mortgage on the
gun; and if he does n't pay principal and interest
when it is due, I shall foreclose,- that means take
possession of the gun "
Tobias's doubts were swallowed up in admira-
tion. His brother Ben was a wonderful boy, and
the Quebasket Double-Penny Bank was the great-
est financial scheme of the age!
Tobias hurried away in search of a smooth
board and his father's paint-pots, while Ben went
to "talk to the fellows," paying his first visit to
Eliakim Tuesley, the greatest capitalist of his ac-
quaintance.
Eliakim was strongly impressed with the impor-
tance and responsibility attending the possession
of his wealth; but he was readily convinced that it
would never double itself in the toe of the stocking,
and that it might in the Double-Penny Bank.
Ben's task was much easier from the fact that his
mathematical abilities were so highly regarded.
If any boy could make a bank a success, it was
Ben Scattergood; that was the universal opinion.
Ben was square," too,-which in Quebasket ver-
nacular meant honest,- it was safe to trust him
with money.
Even Dan Vibbert, who worked in the clothes-
pin factory, and supported his mother and little
sister, and was as wise and prudent as if he were
sixty instead of sixteen, agreed to save ten cents a
week from his earnings, if possible, and deposit it
in the bank; and he gave Ben, on the spot, fifty


M__


L~


x885.]






A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME.


cents which he had saved to buy a blue necktie
with red dots.
Dick Malcolm, who was a rich man's son, but
who spent all his money on caramels and corn-
balls, sternly resolved to forego these luxuries, and
tried to sell his donkey and cart that he might
deposit the proceeds in Ben's bank.
Arthur Wingate, who had saved seven dollars
toward -buying a bicycle, lent a willing ear to Ben's
argument that money which was increasing every
day was better than a bicycle which was wearing
out; and Tommy Tripp sold his calico colt that
he had meant to raise.
There was a great financial excitement in Que-
basket. Ben came home in the evening and found
that the sign, upon which Tobias had worked zeal-
ously all the afternoon, had Quebasket Double-
Penny Bank on it, in dazzling white and yellow
letters on a black ground bordered with red lines.
The office equipment were very primitive, and
Ben resolved that the bank's first earnings should
purchase a desk which was n't evolved from a
trough, and a safe which would give a dignity to the
establishment that was not to be imparted by an
old tin coffee-canister and a cake-box.
But the coffee-canister and the cake-box had
money in them, and so were more business-like
than an empty safe; and with this reflection Ben
consoled himself, even when some of the boys -
who had no money to deposit said they could
put their money into tin boxes at home without
carrying' it up to Scattergood's ole work-shop.",
Of course Ben knew that no one could expect
to carry on so ambitious an enterprise without
having some troubles; so he was not surprised
when his sister Arethusa Ann sold her gold beads
to a peddler for twenty-five cents, to put into the
bank, and his mother sent him after the peddler in
hot haste to get them back at any price, because
they had belonged to their grandmother, and Ben
had to give the peddler a dollar for them. He was
not surprised, but he almost wished he had list-
ened to Tobias, who said girls ought not to be
allowed to deposit, because they would want to
take their money out the very next day to buy
candy or ribbons, or would be fussy and come
every day to see if it were safe. But he was glad
afterward that he had n't listened to Tobias, for
some girl-friends brought money and seemed just
as sensible about it as the boys, from Mary Jane
Pemberly, who had earned seventy-five cents by
knitting stockings, to Kitty Malcolm, who was
saving up her allowance to buy a Shetland pony
with a tail that touched the ground. Kitty had
eleven dollars,- she was almost as wealthy as Elia-
kim Tuesley; and Ben, who believed in women's
rights, had some idea of making her one of the


directors. But when he confided this idea to the
boys, it was received with scorn and derision, and
Ben abandoned it with the patient superiority of
one who knows that his opinions are in advance of
his age. He decided, soon after, that he would
have no directors, but would himself be the sole
manager of the institution, and this decision pre-
vented impending hostilities between Eliakim
Tuesley and Win Reeder, who intended to de-
posit fourteen dollars when his uncle came home.
Another trouble was that some of the depositors
returned weeping, and demanded their money
back, owing to the prejudice of their parents or
guardians. But it happened that the larger cap-
italists had full control of. their funds, so this was
no serious drawback to the success of the bank.
Ben's father seemed to regard the undertaking as
sport, and said Ben had better be at work. But Ben
thought he would soon be able to show people
that his enterprise was something more than play;
and that all the little trials incident to its beginning
would be forgotten in the glory of its success.
But Ben's strong arguments had aroused such a
zeal for saving money and putting it into the
bank, that nobody seemed to think of borrowing
any to spend. .
Ben felt himself under, the necessity of affixing
to his sign the information that the bank would
"loan money on personal property or any good
security." He did n't like the looks of that
notice; it detracted very much from the dignity
of the bank; he wished people would understand,
without that, how his bank must be managed; and
he felt very much annoyed when Uncle Amri
Treworgy, as he was driving by, stopped and
laughed, and called out:
Gone into the pawn-broker business, Ben?
Where are your three gilt balls ? "
Uncle Amri was a queer. old fellow, who had
amassed a considerable fortune by shrewd-invest-
ments and speculations. He was called .' Uncle "
by everybody, and' was in reality a great-uncle to
Ben; and Ben had thought of asking his advice
about the bank. He was glad now. that he
had n't.
But his wounded feelings were soothed.by the
immediate results of the notice. It .was novel
arid exciting to be able to borrow money There
was' a i action from'the severe self-denial that had
made the taste of peanuts and taffy an almost for-
gotten delight to Quebasket boys, and some of the
depositors were the first borrowers !
There was so great a demand for very small
sums that Ben feared the labor of keeping the
books would be too great, and he refused to lend
any amount smaller than a quarter of a dollar. This
caused great dismay among the smaller boys; and


848


S[SEPTEMBER,






A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME.


the village confectioner, who had ordered a double
quantity of peanuts and corn-balls in view of the
unusual demand for them from young capitalists,
was now left with the increased supply on his hands.


BEN LISTENS TO UNCLE AMRI'S "LECTURE." (SEE PAGE 851.)

The interest on loans was to be paid weekly,
but Ben found it very difficult indeed to make
his collections. The boy who borrowed a quar-
ter thought three cents a week very little to
pay for the use of it when he borrowed it, but
VOL. XII.-54.


three cents looked much bigger at the end of the
week, and it increased rapidly to very astonishing
proportions! At the end of three weeks it was
nine cents, and it was often very inconvenient to
pay it. And in how much worse condition was the
boy who had borrowed a dollar!
Then, too, Ben found it difficult to be sufficiently
hard-hearted to take possession of the mortgaged
articles. But Tobias counseled firmness, and Ben
at length felt obliged to take possession of several
pocket-knives, a Guinea hen, a cage of white mice,
a silver watch, a backgammon board, and a
squirrel. The owners of most of these articles
very soon appeared with the interest due and
claimed their property, but one of the knives had
been broken after it was mortgaged, and the gray
squirrel slipped out through a hole in the hen-house,
and probably rejoined its family in the woods;
and its opinion undoubtedly was that the Que-
basket Double-Penny Bank had done some good
in the world. But Tobias, with a wrinkled brow
and deep misgivings about his dollar 'n' nineteen
cents," charged the knife and the squirrel to the
loss account of the bank. The Guinea hen, too,
caused embarrassment by laying three eggs while
imprisoned in the bank, which John Sylvester, her
owner, claimed. And when he threatened to have a
lawsuit if they were not returned to him, Ben felt
obliged to give them up, because he thought an
appeal to law would seriously interfere with the
success of the bank. Poor Tobias spent half a day
in calculating the profits that might have accrued
to the bank from those three Guinea hen's eggs,
and he never became reconciled to their loss.
Ben's strict measures produced two results: one
was that the interest was paid much more
promptly, but the other was that the boys became
more shy of borrowing. The novelty had begun
to wear off, too, and times were undeniably dull
at the bank.
But one morning Quebasket awoke to find its
fences and walls, and even its rocks and trees,
adorned with flaming posters, which announced
that the Gigantic Royal Hippodrome and Stu-
pendous European and Asiatic Menagerie, ap-
plauded by all the Crowned Heads of Europe, Great
and Small, and considered by the Czar of Russia
the Eighth Wonder of the World,' would exhibit
at the Stapleton Mills, a neighboring town, the
next day. Every Quebasket boy knew very well
that those lofty-sounding names meant simply that
the circus had come! And the blissful news was
shouted from one to another.
Lively times to-day said Ben to Tobias, as
they saw the bank-building fairly covered with the
beguiling bills. Crowds of boys will want to
borrow money to go to the circus "


i8851.


849






A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME.


And Ben was right. Before nine o'clock that
morning the bank had more calls for money than
it had had in any previous day of its existence;
and it had queerer things offered for security than
ever before (which is saying a great deal), from
Billy Plumtre's recipe for educating rabbits, to the
Corson boys' discovery of a fox's den in the
woods; and Tobias felt obliged to nudge Ben's
elbow continually to prevent him from accepting
doubtful securities; for Ben was so elated with the
renewed demands upon the bank as to be a little
reckless. More than a little reckless he thought
he had been, when, before noon, he discovered
that there was only a dollar left in the bank And
just as he made the discovery, Derry Burroughs
appeared, and wished to withdraw his deposit of a
dollar and a half to take his sister and his cousin
to the circus! And although Ben assured him
that he would lose his whole quarter's interest by
withdrawing the money then, Derry stood firm,
and Ben handed him the dollar, making an apol-
ogy for the half-dollar, though he tried not to
reveal that the bank vaults--that is, the coffee-
canister and the cake-box-were empty. But
Derry was shrewd enough to understand the real
state of the case, and it soon became apparent
that he had not kept his discovery to himself. The
depositors began to come in hot haste, by ones
and by twos and by threes, all demanding their
money!
Ben turned pale as he realized the awful fact that
there was a run on the bank !
He closed and fastened the door against the
angry crowd, and spoke to them through the
window.
Your money is all safe, and you shall have it
as soon as I can get it," he said.
But this did not pacify them. There were angry
growls and hisses, and even a cry of swindler "
from some of the boys whom Ben had called his
friends; and he was cut to the heart.
You knew just how I was going to manage,
and it's all lent on good security," he said.
You said we could have it back at any time,"
cried a voice.
I did n't suppose it would ever be all borrowed,
and I did n't suppose you would be mean enough
to come after it all at once," said Ben.
It's our money, and we want it! shouted a
determined voice.
And there stood Mary Jane Pemberly on the
edge of the crowd, weeping bitterly; that made
Ben feel like a scoundrel.
I '11 do the best I can," said he. "Come here
this afternoon at five, and I '11 see what can be
done towards paying everybody."
The crowd slowly and reluctantly dispersed.


They thought this might be only an excuse to
get rid of them, but yet their faith in Ben was
not wholly lost.
I should like to know what you can do at five
o'clock more 'n you can now," said Tobias, whose
face was now fairly
tied up into a hard
knot with anxiety.
"You can't get the
money."
S"But I'm going to
try," said Ben. I'm
going to see Uncle
"" Amri."
S You might as
well tap an elm-tree
i for sap as try to get
S'E money out of him,"
said Tobias gloomily.
Ben himself had
great doubts of his
success. Uncle Amri
.. 1. was noted for being
"close fisted, but
he had always been
kind to Ben, and
,"Perh-aE 'ps seemed to take an
I HAVE COME FOR MY MONEY." interest in him, and
Ben thought it was worth while to try.
Just ashe was setting out, Kitty Malcolm.appeared
at the bank.. She looked very bright and smiling
and apparently had heard nothing of the run.
Perhaps she had come to deposit more
money thought Ben, with rising hope.
But her first words caused his hope to sink
again.
"I have come for my money !- never mind about
the interest! said Kitty. I am going to have
my pony! Uncle Harry is going to add enough
to my eleven dollars to buy one that the circus
people have for sale. And Dick wants his money,
too. I don't like to hurt your feelings, Ben, but
Papa says he thinks that banking is hardly a busi-
ness for boys; he is surprised that you should be
in it, and he does n't care to have us have any-
thing to do with it."
Ben thought that was the very worst moment he
ever could have in his life.
Kitty's bright face clouded sadly when Ben had
to tell her that he could not .return her money,
but she was very good about it. She said if he
could get it that afternoon, it would be just as well
as then, and if he could n't--well, some other
time would do ; "perhaps, after all, the pony might
not be as pretty as it was represented to be."
Ben did n't let any grass grow under his feet on
the way to Uncle Amri's.


850


[SEPTEMBER,







1885.] A GREAT FINANCIAL SCHEME. 851


He found the old man sitting on the fence of his
back-yard, observing with satisfaction the growth
of his mammoth pumpkins, and Ben poured forth
the story of his troubles the more impetuously
because it was so unpleasant to tell.
Bank's bu'sted, has it ?" said Uncle Amri, with
a grim chuckle.
Ben felt that the word was very objectionable,
and the chuckle could scarcely be understood to
express sympathy; but there was an expression in
the keen blue eyes that looked out of Uncle Amri's
weather-beaten, baked-apple-like face which em-
boldened Ben to proffer his request. Uncle Amri's
first remarks were not encouraging. He told Ben
that if he expected to get his money back in any
way from all those borrowers, he was a simpleton;
and he entered upon quite a long conversation, in
which Ben, leaning shamefacedly against the post
of the kitchen steps, had to endure a great many
uncomplimentary remarks. But at the close of
his "leetle lecture," as Uncle Amri called it, he
did lend to his downcast nephew the money he
sought, with the agreement that Ben was to work
for all that he could not repay in cash. Ben hated
farm-work, and he knew that Uncle Amri would
exact full measure; but he was so relieved to have
the money in his pocket that he thought he should
not find it a hardship to work it all out if he had to.
You 'd better settle up your business and quit
it," said Uncle Amri, as Ben left him. "Tradin'
in money is risky business, and not fit for boys;
and, anyhow, folks that gets or gives more 'n a
fair price for anything are apt to come to grief in
the long run "
Ben meditated very seriously over Uncle Amri's
advice, and Kitty Malcolm's remark that her father
thought banking was hardly a business for boys,"
rankled in his mind; buthe believed that he should
get most, if not all, of the money back, and he did
want to show people that the bank could go on !
He had not decided what to do when he came
in sight of home.
Tobias came limping to meet him.
What do you think father 's been doing ?" he
cried. "He 's had Si Gilmore up to fix the new
hen-house over into a granary, and he 's moved
the hens into the old workshop He did n't seem


to think the bank was of any consequence -
said he could n't let us have the place for a play
house any longer "
In silence Ben- pushed open the door of the late
bank.- From a corner the cross gander hissed
defiance at him, and, perched upon the desk, the "
pert little bantam rooster crowed shrilly, as if in
triumph over the downfall of the great financial
scheme.
But, after all, Ben felt a little relief. This was
a good reason why the bank should close, and
everybody would know it.
"Uncle Amri has lent me enough money to pay
every one, Tobias he said exultantly, drawing
from the desk the books of the firm -an old
copy-book and a double slate- and reading the
names of the depositors. Tobias drew himself up
very erect, and looked very pale.
"Where 's my dollar 'n' nineteen cents?" he
said, in an awful voice.
"I declare, Tobe, I forgot you! exclaimed
Ben. "You seemed like one of the firm, you
know. But you shall have your money. If it
does n't come in all right, I '11 work for Uncle
Amri and earn it for you."
Tobias reflected.
"I 'll tell you what, Ben," he said at length.
You get me a dozen of Uncle Amri's white tur-
keys' eggs, and I '11 call it square. I 've made up
'my mind to go into the turkey business; it may
be risky, but it's safer than banking, and not so
worrying."
The depositors all came and got their money that
afternoon, and went away feeling somewhat ashamed
of the hard things they had said about Ben.
In the course of time most of the borrowers
paid their money, and there was enough interest
paid to almost cover the losses occasioned by the
few who never paid at all; so Ben had to work
only two days and a half for Uncle Amri.
On one of those days, Uncle Amri told Ben
that he had still some confidence in his business
abilities, and thought of setting him up in busi-
ness when he was twenty-one. Ben was gratified
by this proof of confidence, but he told Uncle
Amri that he felt now as if he should prefer to
stick to farming."







'885s- AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


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

BY EDMUND ALTON.


CHAPTER XXIII.

SENATORIAL DECORUM.

OURS is a representative government,- a gov-
ernment which recognizes the rights of all classes
of citizens -the rich as well as the poor, the un-
learned as well as the learned, the rough and un-
couth as well as the polished and refined; and if
ignorance is displayed in our legislative halls, it is
because an ignorant or thoughtless constituency
has exercised its right of representation. If, there-
fore, you at any time hear of a member who ap-
parently forgets, for a moment, the dignity that is
expected of him as an American law-maker, you
should blame the particular constituency that
elected him, and not reflect upon the intelligence
of the general public or the great principles of our
government which render such a legislator possi-
ble.
In so large a collection of men as the House of
Representatives, it is almost inevitable that there
will be some members who are of an indiscreet or
rash temperament. Scenes of disorder and con-
fusion like those I have described are found in all
popular assemblies throughout the civilized world ;
and in this respect, the House of Representatives
compares favorably with the Chamber of Deputies
of France, and the House of Commons of Great
Britain.
But while I have seen many spirited scenes in
the Senate, downright violations of order were of
rare occurrence.
There is one great influence that prevents the
senators from engaging in frenzied tumults -it is
their veneration for the traditions of the Senate.
There are many unwritten rules of senatorial cour-
tesy and etiquette, the observance of which tends to
preserve the peculiar dignity and exclusiveness of
that body; and those rules are guarded by the
senators with great care.
The decorum of the Senate was occasionally -
in fact, frequently-disturbed by laughter, but I
noticed that it was usually a mild, gentlemanly
sort of laughter. There was nothing wrong about
that, for things occurred which rendered laughter
necessary;-it really would have been impolite
not to laugh!
But, as a rule, the senators seek to avoid any-
thing in their own deportment that is likely to


create disorder, and they also will not tolerate any
acts of outsiders calculated to compromise the de-
corum and dignity of the Senate. I have often
seen the galleries cleared and all the people ejected,
simply because some of them had applauded too
boisterously the remarks of a senator.


CHAPTER XXIV.

INVESTIGATIONS.

THE members of the House are very jealous of
their "dignity." They are often, as we have seen,
careless enough about it themselves; but woe to
any other person who may dare to defy their
authority !
Not only has Congress the sole authority to
make laws and grant supplies for the other depart-
ments of the government, but, as a part of its
general functions, it has supervising power over
the manner in which they perform their duties.
It watches carefully all their doings. It is contin-
ually calling upon the President (either directly or
through his Cabinet officers) for information con-
cerning foreign or domestic affairs, and thus keeps
properly informed in regard to our relations with
other nations and all the special interests of the
country. This surveillance, or watch, is established
over all proceedings, both great and small, in
which the republic is or may be interested.
When Congress hears of any official misconduct
or questionable transaction, affecting our glory or
our pockets, it at once institutes an inquiry into the
matter. This power of Congressional Inquiry
may be exercised by the Senate and the House,
either jointly or independently, and, in important
matters, special investigating committees are ap-
pointed. At about the time when I became a Sen-
ate-page, a great investigation was conducted into
the career of the notorious Ku Klux Klan," and
some of the costumes worn by members of that
order were introduced in evidence, and remained
in the possession of the sergeant-at-arms. These
costumes we pages would delightedly don in our
night-session pilgrimage, and wander, a silent but
awful band, through the corridors and rooms of the
Capitol, to the consternation of allvisitors. If you
have ever seen one of these weird, fantastic outfits,
you can imagine the hideous spectacle we pre-
sented,- especially when we slid down the banis-


Copyright, 1884, by Edmund Alton. All rights reserved.







AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


ters of the stone stairway that led down into the
cellar, beneath the dome.
There are always Congressional committees at
work investigating something or other, and much
money is annually consumed in the pursuit of
information. Sometimes the committees visit var-
ious places to take the testimony of witnesses;
and, during the sessions of Congress, the ser-
geants-at-arms of both bodies, or their deputies,
scour the country after unwilling witnesses, and
bring them to Washington for examination before
the committees.
To enable them to conduct these investigations
as thoroughly as possible, these committees are
empowered to summon, swear, and examine wit-
nesses, and to require the production of books and
papers, and, to this extent, they resemble judicial
bodies.
To refuse to testify or produce papers, therefore,
is to defy the authority of Congress; and for such a
refusal-no matter on what ground it is based-
a man summoned as a witness may be punished by a
fine of one thousand dollars and imprisonment in
a common jail for twelve months. That is the
worst that can happen to him *
But there is one great restriction to be noted.
The law-makers cannot inflict the punishment;
they must turn the matter over to the United
States prosecuting attorney for the District of Co-
lumbia, and give the offender a trial by jury in a
court. At least, so reads that law.
But while Congress knows very well that it can
not try private citizens for misdemeanors, still it
has frequently claimed the right to punish obsti-
nate witnesses for contempt" of its authority.
And it has actually punished them! It is like the
man of whom we have read. His lawyer called at
the jail to see him, and heard his case. "Why,
my dear fellow," said the lawyer, "they can't put
you in jail for that! That may be," said the
man, as he peered through the iron bars of his
cell, "but -they have put me here for it "
Now, with this explanation, you will better
understand the important matter that came up in
*one of these investigations, and which finally re-
sulted in settling the great question as to the
power of Congress to punish for contempt "-a
proceeding which, in its very nature, is a judicial
and not a legislative act.
A certain citizen of this country owed the Gov-
ernment some money, and a committee of the
House of Representatives,t wishing to find out
something about his financial condition, made an
investigation. They summoned witnesses and
questioned them. One of these witnesses, whom,
for short, I shall call Mr. Blank, was a real-estate
broker, and the committee commanded him to bring
The least penalty is a fine of $xoo and one month in jail.


the books of his business for examination. Mr.
Blank thought that the committee had no right to
inquire into his personal affairs, and he refused to
answer its questions or to produce the books. The
committee became very indignant, and reported
the matter to the House. That body stood by its
committee, and ordered its sergeant-at-arms to
arrest Mr. Blank, the obstinate witness. The ser-
geant-at-arms did as he was commanded, and
brought Mr. Blank before the bar of the House,


THE PAGES FROLIC IN WEIRD COSTUMES.

like a prisoner of state. The Speaker asked him
if he was prepared to answer the questions and
produce the books. Then Mr. Blank presented a
written statement, giving his reasons for declining
to obey the House. But the House was not satis-
fied with his explanation, and declared that he
should be punished as guilty of contempt of its
dignity and authority. It therefore -ordered the
sergeant-at-arms to keep him in custody in the
common jail of the District of Columbia until he
should notify the House of his readiness to com-
ply with its demands. So he was marched off to
prison and put into a cell. As he afterward said,
it was not a very luxurious place of abode, but he
"had a variety of scenery toward the north and
east were the swamps and marshes of the Potomac;
to the south, the work-house, poor-house, and
cemetery; and looking toward the west he could
t Forty-fourth Congress, first Session, 1876.


854


[SEPTEMBER,






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


see the Goddess of Liberty on the dome of the
Capitol, and occasionally get a glimpse of the Star-
Spangled Banner, that grand emblem of the free-
dom of American citizens floating from the top
of the House of Representatives."
He had a good time, however, for a while. He
regarded himself as a guest of the nation, and he
used to order good dinners at the jail, and invite
his friends to join him. But the House of Repre-
sentatives heard of this; its members grew more
indignant than ever, and directed that he should
not be allowed anything beyond the ordinary
prison fare of criminals. This was too much
for Mr. Blank. He determined to get out of
jail. He applied to the Supreme Court of the
District of Columbia to protect him. A writ*
was issued in his behalf, and he was brought
before the court. After a long argument, the
Chief-justice of the District decided that his im-
prisonment by the House of Representatives was
an unlawful act, and ordered him to be set free.
So after forty-five days of durance vile, Mr. Blank
was allowed to return to his fireside and his busi-
ness.
But the matter did not end there. Mr. Blank
considered the action of the House an indignity,
and he brought suit in the courts against the
sergeant-at-arms, the Speaker, and the members
of the House who had instigated the arrest, claim-
ing damages in a large sum.
That case finally reached the Supreme Court of
the United States, where it was at last decided that
the House of Representatives had done wrong.
The Court admitted that the House could exer-
cise a few powers somewhat judicial in their nature,
under the express provisions of the Constitution;
but that there is not found in the Constitution of
the United States any general power vested in
either House to punish for "contempt."
And the decision went further than that. It de-
clared that Congress has no right to inquire into the
" private affairs" of a citizen, as it attempted to
do, through its investigating committee, in order to
find out something about the financial condition
of a government debtor; that such an investiga-
tion is judicial in its character, not legislative, and
therefore belongs to the courts- not to Congress.
The affair produced quite a sensation at the
time, and many people thought that the members
who instigated this attack on the rights of an
American citizen should have been imprisoned
instead of Mr. Blank. The Supreme Court, how-
ever, said that,- while the sergeant-at-arms was
liable to a law-suit for the wrong which he had
helped the Congressmen to commit,-- they (the


members) could not be sued or punished, because
of the provision of the Constitution to which I have
already referred that exempts Congressmen from
responsibility for anything said in debate.
So Mr. Blank's suit for damages to his business
and reputation was continued as against the ser-
geant-at-arms; and after a number of verdicts and
a number of arguments by a number of lawyers, a
judgment was recently rendered against the ser-
geant-at-arms, for twenty thousand dollars and
the costs of suit. Of course, that officer had simply
obeyed the orders of the House in arresting and im-
prisoning Mr. Blank, and consequently it was sup-
posed by the jury that whatever judgment they
rendered against him Congress would appropriate
the money for it. That is what every one else
"'supposed" too. And they were all correct in
their conjectures, for, at the last session,f Con-
gress made an appropriation covering the entire
judgment and giving some money, besides, to
the sergeant-at-arms and his lawyers, for their
zeal and trouble in defending the right of the
House! In all, the appropriation amounted to
about thirty thousand dollars, and I presume Mr.
Blank and the sergeant-at-arms are now good
friends.
But the public treasury has had to pay for a con-
gressional mistake.

CHAPTER XXV.

REPUBLICAN SIMPLICITY.

IT was not at all strange that, after their sad ex-
perience under monarchical rule, the early Ameri-
cans should have disliked everything that savored
of royalty. Not only was this spirit shown in attacks
made upon a peculiar courtliness of fashion affected
by a portion of society, but it found expression in the
Constitution itself. It was distinctly provided that

No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States; t

and an instance of the popular feeling on this sub-
ject and the peculiarities of the two Houses, is pre-
sented by the proceedings of the First American
Congress.
The question was raised as to what
titles it will be proper to annex
to the offices of President and Vice-President of the United States;
if any other than those given in the Constitution ?

and this matter was deemed of sufficient impor-
tance to receive the attention of a special joint com-
mittee of both Houses. This committee reported
that the President should be addressed as His


*Writ of habeas corpus, a process very important to imprisoned citizens. See Constitution, Art. I., Sec. IX, Cl. 2.
I March, 1885. Constitution, Art, I., Sec. IX., CI. 8.


X885.]


855






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


Excellency." The senators would not agree to the
report. A Committee of Conference was then ap-
pointed, and reported
That, in the opinion of the committee, it
will be proper thus to address the President: "His Highness, the
President of the United States of America, and Protector of their
liberties."
I think that was high-sounding enough to please
the tastes of the senators. But the members of
the House would consent to nothing of the kind.
They did not believe it essential to the dignity of
a free people that their Chief Officer should be
laden down with anything more than a simple de-
scription of his office. The result of the whole
matter is shown in the following resolution, passed
by the Senate on the 14th of May, 1789:
From a decent respect for the opinion and practice of civilized
nations, whether under monarchical or republican forms of govern-
ment, whose custom it is to annex titles of respectability to the office
of their chief magistrate, and that, on intercourse with foreign na-
tions, a due respect for the majesty of the people of the United
States may not be hazarded by an appearance of singularity, the
Senate have been induced to be of opinion that it would be
proper to annex a respectable title to the office of President of the
United States; but the Senate, desirous of preserving harmony with
the House of Representatives, where the practice lately observed in
presenting an address to the President was without the addition of
titles, think it proper, for the present, to act in conformity with the
practice of that House.
Therefore:
Resolved, that the present address be: "To the
President of the United States," without addition of title.

That resolution has never been disturbed, and
there is no legislative authority for any other ad-
dress than the one so adopted. That form of ad-
dress is still observed in the relations between
Congress and the President. High-sounding titles
are hardly in good taste in a republic.
A somewhat similar dispute arose between the
early Senate and House, when the currency meas-
ures were discussed, in regard to a design for an
impression upon United States coins. The Senate
proposed.a representation of the President's head,
but the House, thinking, no doubt, of the old
Roman coins which bore the head of Casar,--and
perhaps of some European pieces of money,-de-
clared that this idea also inclined toward "royalty,"
and suggested that a representation of Liberty"
should be adopted. The Senate again conceded
the point, and the design proposed by the House
was accordingly agreed upon.
But while the action of Congress did not en-
large the title of the Executive, Washington thought
that, such as it was, it was entitled to respect. In
illustration of this fact, a story is told which,
whether authentic or not, is good enough to be re-
peated. An English officer, it is said, having ad-
dressed a communication to our first President


as George Washington, etc., etc.," Washington
informed him that he was "President of the
United States of America," and that he wished
no "etcetera" after his name. "Oh, well!"
exclaimed the officer, carelessly, "etcetera means
everything." "Yes," rejoined Washington, with
quiet firmness, but it may mean anything !"
A provision of the Constitution relating to titles
also declares that

No person holding any office of profit or trust under the United
States, shall, without the consent of Congress, accept of any pres-
ent, emolument, office, or title, of any kind whatever, from any
king, prince, or foreign State." *

Frequently foreign potentates have desired to
express in various ways their appreciation of the
merit or friendly services of naval, military, or
civil officers of this country, and Congress has
seldom refused to grant the request of the Amer-
ican who has become the object of foreign appre-
ciation. To do otherwise would be rather discour-
teous to the good-natured monarch or country
proposing to do honor to an American citizen.
There are on the Congressional Statute Books
many acts granting to American officers named
in them the right to accept presents from
foreign potentates. Among others, I find one in
regard to certain presents from the King of Siam,
consisting of first, a portrait, in frame, of her
Royal Highness the Princess of Siam; second, a
silver enameled cigar-case; third, a match-box
and tray of Siamese work," which, at the time of
the passage of the Act, were deposited in the
Smithsonian Institution at Washington.
SThe mention of that Institution reminds me
that I should not omit, in this very connection, a
reference to the distinguished scientist who, until
the time of his death, presided over its affairs.
The renown of Professor Joseph Henry is world-
wide. The following joint resolution of Congress,
approved by President Grant on the 2oth of April,
1871, merely illustrates the high esteem in which
his memory is held:
JOINT RESOLUTION giving the consent of Congress to Professor
Joseph Henry, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, to accept
the title and regalia of a Commander of the Royal Norwegian
Order of St. Olaf, conferred upon him by the King of Sweden and
Norway, Grand Master of said order.
Resolvedby the Senate andHouse ofRepresentatives of the United
States ofA merica in Congress assembled, That the consent of Con-
gress is hereby given to Professor Joseph Henry, Secretary of the
Smithsonian Institution, to accept the title and regalia of a com-
mander of the Royal Norwegian Order of St. Olaf, conferred upon
him for his distinguished scientific service and character by the King
of Sweden and Norway, Grand Master of said order.
Of course, private individuals not in the employ
of the Government, do not require the consent"
of Congress. It is pleasant to note that genius in


So intense was the feeling on the subject that, in the year 1810, it was proposed to amend the Constitution, and make it a serious
offense for any American to accept a foreign title.


856


[SEPTEMBER,






AMONG THE LAW-MAKERS.


the fields of letters and of science is not over-
looked by foreign powers, even if unrecognized at
home; and when reading such enactments as the
above resolution, we pages used to confess to a
presentiment of coming honors for ourselves.
Could it be that the King of the Cannibal Islands
had never heard of us !
The Constitutional requirement that Congress
must give its consent to the acceptance of foreign
presents or honors, is an evidence of what foreigners








0--------,---_--
'' ,
C~s

U '?~jli7
I '7
I.,r
/


officials. The people are not disposed to forget
that lhey are the real sovereign. The officials are
their agents and servants, subordinate not superior
to them, and they require that the management
of their affairs shall be open to inspection. The
citizen from the backwoods of the West, and the
citizen from the classic streets of Boston, may
wander about the halls of government with equal
freedom and impunity. The only restrictions are
those of prudence or necessity. An American














I


AN UNPRETENTIOUS PRESIDENT. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)
AN UNPRETENTIOUS PRESIDENT. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


call our republican simplicity. This spirit of
" simplicity (to adopt that term), as I have said,
pervades all our institutions. It allows of no dis-
tinctions of rank. It means absolute freedom -
equality of rights before the law. I could give you
innumerable instances of its workings; but it is
sufficiently shown in the accessibility" of public


should not complain because he is permitted to
roam through the vaults of the Treasury only
under the escort of a guide. If he wishes to hear
the debates of Congress, a seat in the gallery is at
his disposal.*
That we find "red.tape," and excessive dignities
in some of our official circles, I concede; but these


An exception to this privilege should be noted. On the occasion of the dedication of the Washington monument in February last, the
general public were excluded from the services in the House of Representatives, admission to the galleries being given only to thepersonal
friends of Congressmen. But this exclusion, so plainly repugnant to the democratic spirit of our institutions, provoked severe condem-
nation by the press of the country.


X885.)


857







LADY GOLDEN-ROD.


are trifles as compared with the tedious formalities
and pomp of other lands. Indeed, it is only by
such comparison that you can really estimate at
their proper worth these features of American
equality.
Here we have no long line of servants in livery
and soldiers in uniform parading within and with-
out our public buildings. There is not a vestige
of an army around the White House, and about
the only livery the President sees is that worn by
his coachman when driving through the streets of


Washington, in a very ordinary carriage, drawn by
two very ordinary horses. I have seen President
Grant gazing at the pictures in the Capitol, and
sauntering up the Avenue with the crowd, quite
unpretentious, and unconcerned -even stopping
to inspect the articles in a show-window. And
justices of the Supreme Court and Congressmen
are as frequently encountered, and.are as easy of
address as the lads of the city, who, also, when
school is out and their labor done, take their daily
promenades on that great thoroughfare. ,


(To be continued.)


LADY GOLDEN-ROD.

BY CARRIE W. BRONSON. ,

"O PRETTY Lady Golden-Rod,
I'm glad you 've come to town !
I saw you standing by the gate,
All in your yellow gown. ",
No one was with me, and I
thought
You might be lonely, too;
And so I took my card-case
And came to visit you.

"You 're fond of company, I know; h.
You smile so at the sun,
And when the winds go romping past,
You bow to every one.
How you should ever know them all, ,
I'm sure I can not tell; /
But when I come again, I hope '..
You '11 know me just as well.


"I love you, Lady Golden-Rod;
1 You are so bright and fine;
You never have a rumpled frock,
Or tangled hair like mine.
I think your mamma comes at night,
When we are all away,
And dresses you in green and gold,
Fresh for another day.
" How tall you are, dear Golden-Rod! The
You 're taller 'most than I Sh
I can not grow so very fast, For
Although I try and try. Sh
Oh, here's Mamma, dear Golden-Rod! Unti
I '11 ask her please to stop; U
And she shall say which one of us And
Comes highest at the top." '"


"OH, HERE 'S MAMMA!"
lovely Lady Golden-Rod!
e surely understood;
when wee Margie turned around,.
e bent down all she could,
1 the fluffy yellow heads
pon a level came,
Margie's mother, smiling, said:
four heights are just the same! "


858


[SEPTEMBER,







HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG.


HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG.

BY LAVINIA S. GOODWIN.


ON the margins of the beautiful winding streams
and rivers of France washerwomen may often be
seen at their work, presenting, under the leafy
shade of the grand old trees, a very picturesque ef-
fect. No doubt you have seen pictures of these
washing-places. They are furnished with a row
of shallow, three-sided boxes, open toward the
shore, and with the back resting on posts set in the
water. Just below the surface of the water a smooth
board slants downward, and the washerwoman,
kneeling in the box, holds her piece of washing
upon this slanting board with her left hand, while
in her right she grasps a kind of paddle, with which
she beats the linen, turning it again and again,
until with the beating and the force of the running
water it becomes entirely clean and white.
One summer day, many years ago, a washer-
woman who was too fond a mother to leave her
baby in any one else's care, brought it with her,
and while at work, placed the child in the box
where she was half kneeling, half sitting at her
washing, and where she could occasionally bend
down to fondle her darling baby. Suddenly, and
without any warning, the child sprang from the
mother's lap and slipped over the side of the wash-
ing-box into the bubbling river. The mother's
shriek was echoed by the startled cries of the other
washerwomen as the child was borne off by the
current; and the poor mother was with difficulty'
restrained from leaping in after her child. At that
moment, some one watching the tiny form per-
ceived a dark object making its way from shore
straight toward the drowning baby, still kept afloat
by its clothing.
A dog! it is a dog! they cried. See! he is
swimming for the baby "
The few seconds of suspense that followed seemed
almost like hours. Then the watchers embraced
the agonized mother, with words of cheer.
He has her by her frock they cried. See
how he keeps the darling's head above the water!
She is saved; yes, nearly saved "
For a moment, the strong animal buffeted with
the strong current and then struck out bravely,-
but for the opposite shore. Then a new fear as-
sailed the watchers, for that opposite shore was sol-
itary and uninhabited; there were reports every
season of prowling wolves that were seen there.
What if this great creature were no dog, but a
ferocious wolf that had saved the child only to
devour it? And the dismayed women stepped


before the weeping mother, so that she might not
see the other shore.
The four-footed swimmer reached the land; he
laid the rescued child on the ground, shook the
water from his heavy coat, and then -calmly
stretched himself panting and watchful by the silent
form.
A cry of relief came from the watchers, and with
swift feet they hurried to the ferryman's hut, not
far up the stream. They found the old ferryman
sitting in his boat, mending a rowlock, and chat-
ting with his nine-year-old grandson, little Paul
Dericker, who was on a visit to his grandfather
from his home near Peaolo, on the Rhine. As
soon as he heard the story, the ferryman untied his
boat and quickly landed the excited washerwomen
on the opposite bank. First to spring ashore, little
Paul darted to the spot where the baby lay, but was
speedily back with the information that the child
was alive, for he had seen it move its arms and
kick up its little feet, but that the dog would not
let him come near.
Here was a dilemma. The dog guarded his prize
determinedly, rolling a pair of fiery eyeballs and
snarling savagely at the intruders when they at-
tempted to approach. In the intervals, he wouldlick
the face and hands of the infant, now cooing con-
tentedly, and would give it the most affectionate
attention. But let one of the party advance a
step, and it was the signal for him to turn on
them and drive them back. No coaxing had
the least effect; and when one of the women,
remembering a lunch of bread and meat in her
pocket, tried to win him with food, he scorned to
look at it. Losing patience, the ferryman provided
himself with a club, and thought to try what a
show of force could do. This merely enraged the
dog, who was more than a match even for an
armed man. Very much in earnest, then, Paul's
grandfather sent the boy to bring from the boat
his duck gun, declaring that the dog must be shot.
Away flew Paul, while the women set up such a
lamentation because of the necessity of killing the
dog that had saved the baby from drowning, that
the ferryman made them go some distance away,
lest the dog, if only wounded, should spring upon
them indiscriminately, at a time when he would
have all he could do to defend himself. But the
gun, too, was a failure. It was evident the dog
understood a gun, but supposed that they intend-
ed to shoot the child; for he protected its body


859







HOW PAUL CALLED OFF THE DOG.


so closely with his own, that to fire at one would
be to fire at both. Completely baffled, the old
man threw the weapon on the ground.
"Hold Grandpa! cried Paul, at his elbow,
" I know what I can do And the swift feet were
off toward the ferry once more.
He is going to try a lasso on the beast- the
way he caught the pig that broke out of the pen
yesterday," said grandfather to himself; and then
he shouted, but too late to be heard, Don't take
the rope that ties the boat, Paul! Don't let the
boat loose "
The women, waiting in terror for the report of the
musket, saw Paul run past, and thought of him no
more until three minutes later, when a cry for help
attracted their attention, and Paul was seen to fall
headlong over the boat's stern into the deep water.
As he rose to the surface he grasped the rudder
with one hand, but long before help could arrive,
his hold slipped and he disappeared. The old
man, running as fast as his stiff limbs could carry
him, reached the boat at the same time as the
women; but he was less frightened than they.
"Why -that chap can swim -like a duck,"
were his words, as he caught his breath. "He
drowning?--I would n't--would n't have be-
lieved it "
He was frightened by the accident," some one
remarked, while the old man worked at a disad-
vantage in getting off the boat, as he kept his eyes
turned on the water.
"There away yonder so far down oh! "
came the cries from the shore, as the women, shield-
ing their eyes from the sun with their hands, caught
sight of the lad's head and shoulders above the
surface, nearly opposite the point where the child
had been landed. All felt that he was drowning,
but none dared say so to the fond old grandfather.
In the same breath Paul gave one last, long,
piercing cry, and sank gradually amid the curling
waves.


That call had an instant effect. True to his life-
saving instincts, the great dog leaped into the river
again, and swimming to the boy, drew him, a
heavier burden than the baby, slowly ashore at
the spot where the baby had lain. But the baby lay
there no longer; for its mother, whom the shriek
of distress had also aroused, had snatched it up,
as the dog left it, and borne it away in joy and
triumph. And as soon as Paul was on land, he
stood up and hailed the boat, swinging his arms
and shouting:
"All right, Grandpa. Carry over the women-
folks, and when I 'm ready presently, I '11 walk
across."
He broke into a laugh that startled the echoes,
the merriest laugh, those who heard it said, that
ever fell on their ears.
"The young rascal," cried his grandfather, gayly,
while a tear of gratitude stole down his bronzed
cheek, to frighten and fool us so "
But how fine for him to have fooled the dog !"
said the women.
The dog did not appear to take the loss of his
former prize to heart, as he had now secured a
larger and better. In a little while the boat was
seen approaching. Paul stood up on his feet, pat-
ting the rather astonished dog upon the head, and
the pair trotted along shore to meet the ferryman.
We were just going to swim across for sport-
can't we, Grandpa ? cried Paul.
But his grandfather thought there had been
enough of that kind of sport for one day, and so
the boy and his new playmate crossed in the boat.
Some hours later a sportsman fully equipped
appeared at the ferry, inquiring for a dog answer-
ing the description of the one that now, hearing
his master's voice, came rushing out of the ferry-
man's cottage. Both were glad to meet again, and
the sportsman, when he had heard the story, ex-
pressed his delight that his noble runaway had so
well employed his time.


THE JAUNTY JAY.

On my window-sill flirted a jaunty jay;
He chattered awhile, then he flew away.
He chattered a while, as if to say:
"Don't you wish you could live in the day,-in the day?
Don't you wish you were little enough to be gay?
Fly away! Fly away!"
Said the jubilant, jolly, and jaunty jay.


860


[SEPTEMBER,







NICKNAMES.


NICKNAMES.

BY HENRY FREDERIC REDDALL.


t' y' y .' 9 .. .. ,"
THERE are, probably very few young people
who have not, at one time or another, helped to
christen some companion or acquaintance with a
nickname.
You single out a peculiarity of person, or a
hobby, or a habit, in your friend, and confer on
him a nickname that may be absurd, satirical,
or honorable and complimentary.
Now, this is exactly what your elders, who, as
Dryden says, are only "children of a larger
growth," have been doing in every period of the
world's history. Nicknames applied in derision or
affection hundreds of years ago are yet often heard,
and are still full of meaning to us.
Nicknames are coined every day in the year,
and I have no doubt that many of you can at once
recall some nicknames that have been conferred
on eminent men, and have accompanied them into
history.
Let us together glance at a few historic nick-
names.
Quite a number of eminent men are now familiar
to us solely by a nickname that, in course of time,
has taken the place of their rightful title. Thus,
the proper designation of a painter now known as
Guercino was Giovanni Francesco Barbieri. But
on account of a defect in his sight, he was nick-
named Guercino; that is, "squint-eyed." One
of the wickedest of the Roman emperors received
from his soldiers a playful nickname on account of
the boots he wore. They called him Caligula,
"little boots," and by that title he figures in
history. And the painter Tintoretto's baptismal
name was Robusti; but his fellow-townsmen dub-


bed him Tintoretto "little dyer," because his father
was a dyer, the Italian word for which is tintore.
Many similar nicknames might be mentioned.
Of sarcastic nicknames there are scores of in-
stances in history and biography. The eminent
Doctor Abernethy, of London, wrote a book called
" Surgical Observations," and from his invari-
able habit of advising his patients to read it,
he became known as Doctor My-Book." The
brave English Commodore Byron, from the fact
that stormy weather nearly always attended him
on his voyages, was dubbed by his sailors "Foul-
weather Jack"; and still another naval officer,
Admiral Vernon, because of his custom of wearing
a Grogram" cloak in bad weather, was called
" Old Grog." It was this same Admiral Vernon,
by the way, who instituted the custom of serving
out a mixture of spirits and water to the seamen
of the royal navy, a beverage which they called
"grog," in memory of its originator. Talleyrand,
the French statesman, who was famed alike for his
wit and his sarcasm, was at one-time Bishop of
Autun, and his many enemies jocularly spoke of
him as "His Irreverent Reverence." A similar
play on words occurs in the case of Lindley Mur-
ray, who has been facetiously called the "Un-
grammatical Grammarian."
Several historical characters, because of the
vigorous blows they dealt their foes, or on account
of the energy with which they fought some real
or fancied abuse, have been called "Hammers."
Judas Asmoneus, the Jewish patriot, better
known as Judas Maccabaeus, was the first to bear
this surname. Maccabaeusmeans "the Hammer."
The next personage to win this title was Charles,
the great Frankish king, grandfather of Charle-
magne, commonly called Charles Martel. Martel
signifies the Hammer; and he gained the sur-
name, because of the mighty blows he inflicted
with his mace on the heads of the Saracen invaders
at the battle of Tours. This victory saved Europe
from the Mohammedan power.
And in the inscription on the tomb of Edward
the First, in Westminster Abbey, he is called
" the Hammer of the Scotch," in memory of his
many victories over that people. This king in his
lifetime was nicknamed "Longshanks."
Thomas Cromwell, the English statesman who
flourished in the time of Henry the Eighth, was
called the "Hammer of Monasteries." By a
curious coincidence his illustrious namesake, Oliver






NICKNAMES.


Cromwell, was, in the next century, nicknamed
" the Hammer of Kings."
Military commanders have been the recipients
of nicknames more generally than any other
class.
The Duke of Wellington -the "Iron Duke"-
was invariably alluded to by the troops of the
line regiments as Nosey, on account of his enor-
mous nasal feature; and even that stern martinet,
Frederic the Great, delighted in the fact that
his grim grenadiers called him Old Fritz. The
soldiers of Napoleon manifested their regard
for their leader by calling him, long after he had
outstripped his humble rank, "the. Little Cor-
poral "; and Napoleon became the subject of a
great many fanciful names and titles, such as:
"The Soldier of Democracy"; "Heir of the
Republic "; "The Man of Destiny "; "The Night-
mare of Europe"; "The Child of the Revolu-
tion "; and The Ogre of Corsica,"-all of which
sufficiently explain themselves. The Abb6 de
Pradt dubbed him Jupiter Scapin," or "A Scamp
Jupiter," in allusion to the strange manner in which
nobility and puerility, greed and power, were min-
gled in his mental make-up. Jupiter was the
noblest figure in the old heathen mythology, while
"Scapin signifies cunning and knavery.
Coming to our own land, we find American life
largely given to the coining of nicknames for pub-
lic men. Every boy knows that General Putnam,
the revolutionary hero, and General Jackson, the
victor at New Orleans in the war of 1812, were
called respectively Old Put" and "Old Hickory,"
- the latter having earned his nickname by sub-
sisting unflinchingly on a diet of hickory nuts, to
which his troops were at one time reduced during
the campaign of 1813. John Randolph, for his
haughty manners, was often called "the Lord of
Roanoke ; Zachary Taylor was Old Rough and
Ready." Stephen A. Douglas was known as the
" Little Giant," and his successful rival, the martyr
Lincoln, earned the deserved title of Honest
Abe." And the American soldier is as ready as
the European to adopt nicknames for those in
authority over him. A recent article by Mr. George
F. Williams, published in The Century Magazine,
and entitled Lights and Shadows of Army Life,"
mentions some nicknames of the Civil War.
Almost every general of prominence, it says, had
a nickname bestowed upon him by his troops.
Some of these names were of a sarcastic nature, but
usually they indicated the confidence of the men
in their leaders or their admiration for them.
General Grant was commonly known over the
watch-fires in the Army of the Potomac as Old
United States," from the initials of his name; but
sometimes he was called Old Three Stars," that


number of stars on his epaulettes indicating his rank
as lieutenant-general. McClellan was endeared
to his army as Little Mac." General Meade, who
wore spectacles, was not displeased to learn that the
soldiers had named him Four-eyed George,"
for he knew. it was not intended as a reproach.
Burnside, the colonel of the First Rhode Island
regiment, rose to the dignity of "Rhody" when
he became a general. General Joseph E. Hooker
was called "Fighting Joe." Sigel, the German
general, was known inthe other corps as Dutchy."
General Hancock won the brevet of Superb,"
from a remark made by General Meade at Gettys-
burg, when the Second Corps repulsed a fierce
attack upon it. Humphrey, being a distinguished
engineer, was invariably styled "Old Mathematics."
General Logan, with his long black hair and dark
complexion, was Black Jack with his men.
Sheridan, the cavalry leader, was "Little Phil,"
and the troops of General Sherman, whose full
name is William Tecumseh Sherman-spoke of
him as "Uncle Billy" or as Old Tecumseh."
The sterling nature and steadfast purpose of Gen-
eral George H. Thomas earned for him the 'sig-
nificant and familiar name of "Old Reliable."
The New York City regiments in the Fifth Corps
called General Sykes, "Syksey"; and Rosecrans
had his name shortened to Rosey." One Gen-
eral was derisively nicknamed "Old Brains." Gen-
eral Lew Wallace was Louisa" to the soldiers
under his command; he was a great favorite for
his fighting qualities, and the soldiers adopted that
inappropriate name for want of a better.. General
Kearny, who had lost an arm in Mexico, was in-
variably known in the ranks as One-armed Phil."
General Butler was styled Cockeye," for obvious
reasons. General Kilpatrick was nicknamed
"Kill," and General Custer was called Ringlets,"
on account of his long, flowing curls; and so the
catalogue might be prolonged indefinitely.
Among the Confederates, familiar nicknames
were not so common as with the Federals. The
soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia usually
spoke of General Lee as Bob Lee," and General
Thos. J. Jackson will live in history as Stone-
wall Jackson."
Finally, the custom of bestowing nicknames has
entered even into the religious life of the world.
The famous medieval scholar, Thomas Aquinas,
when a student was called by his mates the Dumb
Ox, because of his seeming dullness. His teacher,
however, is said to have remarked: "If that ox
should begin to bellow, the earth would resound
with the noise! The prediction came true; and
in after life, when his talents and attainments
spread his fame over all Europe, the offensive
nickname was exchanged for such honorable


862


[SEPTEMBER,






NICKNAMES.


epithets as "The Eagle of Divines" and "The
Angelic Doctor."
Nearly two thousand years ago, there came to
the rich, beautiful, and cultured city of Antioch,
in Syria, a band of travel-stained strangers, who
had fled their houses to escape the clutches of per-
secuting enemies.
Hardly were these hunted ones settled in the
city before they began to teach and to preach; and
though of different races, they all delivered the
same glad message, and revered the same Name.
Numbers of the townsmen forsook their faith in
the heathen divinities of Greece and Rome, and
followed the heavenly precepts of the new-comers.
The men of Antioch were famed for their ready
wit in bestowing appropriate nicknames; even the
Emperor Julian was not secure from their jests,
and the philosopher Apollonius was driven from
the city by the merciless raillery of the inhabitants.
It would have been strange, then, if a name had
not been found to fling at those of the new belief.
So, thoughtlessly enough, and half in ridicule,
half in contempt, the volatile populace called the
new community "Christians," after Him in whose


name they taught and performed works of mercy.
But ere many years passed, the epithet that was
at first intended as a term of reproach became a
name full of glorious and joyful meaning to the
world.
And here is one more instance, showing how
powerful for good a mere nickname may become.
In 1739, a few students in the old English uni-
versity of Oxford formed themselves into a club,
pledged themselves to a closer observance of col-
lege discipline than had prevailed before that time,
and afterward united in works of practical piety
and benevolence.
They were the objects of the unsparing ridicule
of both students and tutors, and were dubbed in
derision "The Holy Club," "Bible Moths," and
" Bible Bigots." But what incensed their lawless
fellow-students most was their strict attention to
the rules laid down by the university authorities;
and so, to express their hatred and contempt, they
called them "Methodists." This name stuck, and
the "club" proved to be the germ of one of
the greatest religious denominations of modern
times.


863







THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.*

BY LIEUT. FREDERICK SCHWATKA.


.. ...... .. .

I. -ma
L i


THE WINTER CAMP IN NORTH HUDSON'S BAY.


SEVENTH PAPER.

WE have spoken of all the games and sports, the
troubles and labors of the little ones of far-away
Eskimo land, and even chronicled some of the do-
ings of the small boys who had had interesting ad-
ventures of their own, and now, I suppose, you
might like to hear how we white men lived in the
Arctic regions, when with all these Eskimo peo-
ple and their children, and, especially, how we
passed the winter with them.
I have already told you how they built their cu-
rious little houses of snow for winter dwellings,
and how much they looked like the half of a huge
egg-shell resting on the side of a hill covered with
snow. Now, in order to make these houses of
snow,- igloos, as the makers call them,- the
snow must be of a certain hardness and texture, so
that the blocks or huge snow-bricks, if you would
so call them will hold together when handling
them, and after they are in the walls of the white
building. It must have been quite cold so as to
freeze the snow into a sort of homogeneous mass,
and it must have been packed down by the wind a
good deal to make it compact and solid. The
first snow of the coming winter does not make
good strong snow-blocks for the igloos, however


deep it may fall, and from the time there is enough
of it, the Eskimo often have to wait three or four
weeks before it is fit for building. As it gets too
cold in their summer sealskin tents before this
time comes, the natives generally build prelimi-
nary houses of ice, which, singular as it may seem,
are much warmer than the tents, but not as com-
fortable as the houses of snow. When the ice has
formed to about six inches in thickness on some lake
close by, they cut out their big slabs of ice for the
sides of the house. Imagine an ordinary-sized
house-door to be a slab of ice about six inches
thick; then take a half-dozen to a dozen of these
doors, and place them in a circle, joining them
edge to edge, but leaning in slightly, and you will
have formed your curious house of ice. Over this
circular pen of ice which you can imitate on a
small scale with a circular row of upright domi-
noes on their ends and joined edge to edge -the
summer sealskin tent is lashed across poles for
a roof, and the ice-house is complete. By and by,
this roof, sagging with snow, may be taken off
and a dome of snow put on, which gives more
height and consequently more comfort.
In the picture at top of this page, which rep-
resents our first winter camp in North Hudson's
Bay, the houses of ice-slabs surmounted by a dome


*Copyright, by Frederick Schwatka, 1885.


[SEPTEMBER,


II






THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


of snow, are shown, and the little circular windows
you see are also thin sheets of ice, which let in the
light quite as well as our own at home, although
not nearly so much light, because they are very
much smaller than our windows.
Before these houses get covered inside with the
black soot from the burning lamps, and before the
snow outside has drifted up level with the roof, a
night scene in a village of ice, and especially if
the village be a large one and all the lamps be
burning brilliantly, is one of the prettiest views a
stranger can find in that desolate land. If you
could behold a village of cabins suddenly trans-
formed into houses of glass, and filled with burning
lamps, it might represent an Eskimo ice-village at
night.
As you will see by the picture, we took our sum-


lumps of it from the top of the barrel, and brought
it in and put it over the fire, where it soon melted,
so that we could use it. One day he left- the
hatchet on the frozen syrup, and when he needed
it a few hours later, it was gone. Its disappear-
ance was a great mystery, as the Eskimo never
stole, and could not get into the tent in any case.
The mystery, however, was cleared up the next
day, when an iron bar with which he had been
splintering off some of the frozen mass was left in
the barrel, and we found that it sank in the frozen
syrup until;only the;endistuck out. And When we
had cut it all out, we found the hatchet below,
at the bottom. It seemed as absurd as to leave an
axe on a frozen lake and to see it slowly sink through
three or four feet of ice to the bottom.
We built no other house for ourselves than this


THE WHALERS' CAMP AT MARBLE ISLAND.


mer tent, and, pitching it right against our house
of ice, used it as a storage-room. Here we put our
provisions, our barrels of bread and molasses ; and
one story I must tell you about the latter. When
the bitter cold weather came on, and the molasses'
was frozen as hard as ice, the cook used to get ours
in the same way that he would obtain so, much
ice; that is, he took a hatchet and chopped out
VOL. XII.-55.


mixture of ice-walls ard snow-roof, though all the
Eskimo built regular igloos of snow as soon as that
material was in good condition; and when the bit-
ter days of winter came on they always complained
of cold when they came into our house.
The reason why we did not build a wanner
house of snow was that we had planned to leave
our home in North Hudson's Bay, and to pay a


865






THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD.


long visit to some whale-ships that were frozen in a
harbor about a hundred miles farther south. There
were four of these ships in a safe little harbor jut-
ting into the shore of Marble Island, and the way
they prepare themselves for the long Afti winter
is shown in the picture on page 865. In the fall of
the year, just before it gets so cold that the ice
forms, they huddle together, as you see them in
the illustration, and each ship puts down two
anchors, one at the bow and one at the stern, and
these hold them from striking against the shore or
one another until the ice forms around them and
freezes them in solidly. Then the anchors and
rudders are taken up, and, with lumber which they
have brought from home, the whalers build a rude
but substantial house over the ship, as you see in
the picture. Then they get the Eskimo to build
a sort of snow-house or igloo over the wooden
house again, and, so, with all this covering to pro-
tect them, they manage to keep warm and com-
fortable with very little fire, however cold it may be
out-of-doors. Sometimes they put in double win-
dows, the inside ones of glass, as usual, and the out-
side ones being made of slabs of ice, like the
curious windows of the igloos. The white men do
not live in the temporary houses you see, built on
top of the ships, but in the cabin and forecastle,
just as if they were cruising out to sea. The
house is simply put over the ship to keep the real
places warm, and right well it does its work. This
" house," however, is very useful as a place for
taking exercise, for ship-carpentering work, and
for any small jobs that may be necessary. The


Eskimo also congregate there, especially about
meal-time; and the more generous whalers feed
them with a little hard sea-bread and weak tea well
sweetened with molasses, and for this the natives
supply them with reindeer and walrus meat, and
build the snow-houses over their ships.
But you must not think that all ships in the
Arctic winters fare so well as those I have just de-
scribed. The whalers visit the polar regions nearly
every winter, and know by experience how to be
comfortable when there. Where they find whales
they almost always find Eskimo, and the natives
are of great assistance to them, as I have said.
Many explorers, however, push beyond these limits,
and we are constantly reading of their useless
sufferings while in winter-quarters from not know-
ing how to properly shield and maintain themselves.
While in the fall, the whalers patiently wait for
the ice to form, so as to house themselves in, they
do not in the spring wait for the ice to melt before
getting to work at catching whales that are sport-
ing on the outside of the still frozen harbors; so
they cut a channel, wide enough for the ship,
through the ice from the open water to alongside
the vessel, and she is then floated out. In the
harbor at Marble Island, the channel, through ice
five or six feet thick, came up between the four
ships where you see the sledge-track in the picture.
The work of cutting a channel only half a mile
long, occupied three weeks, each crew working six
hours, night and day. But, as you probably know
already, the night is as light as the day, in the
Arctic spring.


THE INVENTOR'S HEAD.


ON the opposite page is a copy of a curious
drawing which will interest young folk of a
mechanical turn of mind; and it has, moreover,
a bit of a story connected with it. Sixty years
ago a young draughtsman in Philadelphia, who
devoted himself entirely to making drawings to
accompany applications for patents, wished for
something besides his small sign, to attract the
attention of inventors to his office. So he drew a
strange combination of the mechanical contriv-
ances of that day, in a form to represent a human
head, and gave -it the inscription: The Invent-
or's Head." This drawing, neatly executed in
India ink, the young artist placed in his office win-


dow, with the words, "Drawings and Specifica-
tions for Patents," printed in bold, large letters
beneath it.
The figure here shown is an exact copy of the
drawing, and the following is a list of the articles
that compose the Inventor's Head:
The nose is a carpenter's try-square; the cheek,
a basket; the jaw, a blacksmith's tongs ; the chin,
the end of a shaft; the forehead, a roll, which,
working against another in the temple, produces a
scroll of iron for the ear; the brain, or knowledge-
box, is as old as the world, and so that is, as you
see, a globe; the ruffled shirt-bosom is made of a
jig-saw and a pinion-rack; the still-worm makes


866


[SEPTEMBER,







s85.]


THE INVENTOR'S HEAD.


867


the neck, and the handles of the rake and fork are look at the picture with half-closed eyes, the pro-
the cravat-tie; the bellows are the lungs; the screw file of the head will grow more distinct. Indeed,
is the cue at that time largely worn; brushes, cog- the "Inventor's Head" proved to be a profitable


teeth, and circular saws represent the hair; and as well as a clever thought in the young draughts-
the tines of the fork are the tie of the cue. man, whose name you will see, with the date of
If you will hold the page at arm's length, and the drawing, at the bottom of the picture.







868


'I


DAISIES.


DAISIES.

BY D. C. W.


" WICH man, foor man, beggar man, sief'-
Wait till I tell 'ou what 'ou '11 be;-
'Doctor, lawyer, Inzun shief'-
'Ou could n't be zat one, don't you see ?
Wick man, poor man, beggar man, sief'--
Are n't 'ou glad it is n't zat one?
'Doctor, lawyer, Inzun skief'-
Wait a minute, I 'se almost done.
Wick man'-zat's the latest one,
So zat it what 'ou 's doing to be.


W ick man, poor man, beggar man, sief'-
I dess I must see who'll marry me.-
'Doctor, lawyer, Inzun shief'-
Who do 'ou s'pose it 's going to be?


" Wic man'-why, it turns ze same !
I does n't see how zat can be -
0 ess, I does-it 's dest as plain,-
O' course it means 'ou 'll marry me!"


[SEPTEMBER,


~


" ~ ''' -
ii: I-'
--'l~b: '
.,-~--~--- -----? J






1885.]


Moderate.


Look-ing your way from the door way, Peek a boo !
Thro' those lash-es eye -light flash-es, Peek a boo


Peek a boo !
Peek a boo !


See lit tie eyes of
Dear lit tie heart shines


I~Lz+~ L2eL uIizai zjF


;L


Srilard.


blue, Voice quite like to a chirp ing bird, Tongue quite tied with a ba by word.
thro'; Head bobs out, and the head bobs in, Red lips part abovee a white, white, chin,

. =__c_-P--_-_-=-- .. F.....


ritzrd.


~I~7 ~ -4-~-- zi-I

a krnio. r~iard


ftt d=~=~=t~I~


OUR MUSIC PAGE. 869


LITTLE PEEK-A-BOO.

WORDS AND MUSIC BY WADE WHIPPLE.


./ 0. -0.


h.


ritard.


a tenmo.


riLF








870 JACK IN THE PULPIT. [SEPTEMBER,


2wq w;g
J r.. -, I T I- %. -P I IT.

J A, K IN T HE -PU LPI T.


PIERRE TYLER, a little nine-year-old boy, sends
the answer to your Jack's July riddle, "What is.
it that bursts its tender covering and springs up,
etc. ?" He says, It 's fire-crackers Those in
favor of Pierre's motion please say "Aye Con-
traries, "No! "-
The "Ayes have it.
Now you shall hear about
MOON RAINBOWS AND ALL SORTS OF THINGS.
OAKLAND, ALAMEDA CO., CAL.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: About that lunar
rainbow which your friend the farmer described
in June, lunar bows are not uncommon here. We
often see them when the moon shines and the fog
drifts over. The bow is a ring, sometimes white,
but oftener showing two, three, or four colors.
But I wish especially to tellyou about what we saw
two years ago on May-day, in Amador Co. (that's
in the Sierra Nevada foot-hills). It had been
showery, and about one o'clock, the sun shone
out bright, the sky being a deep, dark blue, and
we saw three rings, or circular bows, and three sun-
dogs. I never saw anything so glorious, and since
then no rainbow seems bright enough. We have
mirages, too, here, almost every day, in the late
summer. Once we saw a schooner in the sky,
right over the center of the Golden Gate, and from
Grandmamma's ranch in Sacramento Valley, we
sometimes see Sacramento lifted up in the air and
upside down, and sometimes doubled at that!
This is at sunrise or sunset; but on the bay, you
see boats in the sky at different hours, and the
shores are beautiful cities of the olden time, with
towers and castles; and there are streets of gold,
too. Then I wish to say that all the humming-birds
sing in California. Don't they everywhere? Is n't
it because the song is like a faint Chinese tune,


that every one does not recognize it as bird music?
They sing on the perch, and it sounds like a distant
bag-pipe or Chinese fiddle.
On the ranches around Grandmamma's place,
everybody has a reservoir for irrigating. They
dig out a foot or two of earth from, say, a half-acre,
and use this earth for a bank, then from bored
wells about twenty feet deep they pump water with
windmills to fill these. In from one to two years,
willows, cat-tails, water-grass, and fresh-water
clams begin to grow in these ponds. Where do
they come from? There were none for miles
around till the reservoirs were built, and none are
planted. The seeds could be there in the ground,
I suppose,-but the clams? Please explain, and
oblige, Yours, R. L. F.
Who can explain? and who can explain "Sun-
dogs ?"
OTHER LUNAR RAINBOWS.
FARMINGTON, ILLINOIS.
DEAR JACK: I must tell you what I saw several
years ago. Some cousins of mine and I were going
home from a "singing-school." It was a moon-
light night. When we neared a small creek, we
saw a heavy white bow across the creek. We
called it a fog-bow. It lasted as long as we were
near it, which must have been ten minutes. I
never heard whether any one else ever saw one
there. It was witnessed by three other persons
who are now living in the same county where it
happened. Yours truly, Lu. N. SUYDAM.

LAWRENCE, LONG ISLAND, N. Y.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I saw in the June
number of the ST. NICHOLAS an account of a
moon rainbow, and I thought I would write and
tell you of one I saw here. It had been a cloudy
and rainy afternoon. About nine o'clock I went
out on a balcony in the second story, from which
we have abeautifulview of the ocean. : As I looked
toward the east, I saw the moon shining through the
clouds, and above it was a beautiful bow. It was
of a silvery white, and was visible for a few min-
utes only, and then it entirely disappeared. It was
the only one I had ever seen or heard of.
Truly yours,
ANITA NEILSON.
WHERE DO THEY COME FROM P
ST. PAUL, MINN., June 6, 1885.
DEAR JACK: I wish to ask your birds a question : Do any ofthem
know what kind of a bug it is that flies around the electnc lights ?
I never saw one until we began to have electric lights here. They
are gray, and about an inch and a half long, and they fly around
the lights at night. Good-bye, with love to the Little School-ma'am.
I remain, your loving friend,
MADE CULLEN.
HOW THE TURTLE WINKS.
RED HOOK.
DEAR JACK: I should like to tell you how a tur-
tle winks, if you do not know already. I observed
one to-day, and to my astonishment he raised his
under lid instead of lowering the upper one. He
also shut one eye and kept the other open, thus
giving himself a very comical appearance. Do all
tortoises wink upward, or is this only the case with


870


JACK-IN -THE -PULPIT.


[SEPTEMBER,







885.] JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. if71


this species-- the common land turtle? Just ask
the boys and girls for me, and oblige,
Your constant listener, J. L. S.

A GOOD BOOK.
THE Little School-ma'am wishes me to recom-
mend to all of you who love to read about natural
history, a new book which has interested her very
much. It is called Tenants of an Old Farm, and
it is written by Dr. Henry C. McCook; and the
Little School-ma'am says you can now find it in
almost any bookstore.
So far as I am concerned, I am quite willing you
should read this book, provided you read also, with
sharp eyes and close attention, the
larger volume that Nature spreads
be6r:,r ,...,i .: .-r, d,\ ;, th ,, .--,r,
.'h,,-'h i i' c- thJ A Lh. .-

r: rid, i ld:r Lh .i '-' -
t,. ,-,l.:l,: .r. *.r.*" '.-*L -


ma'am and her scientific friends as the Dory-
pihora decem-lineata happened to spy it, and that
little vine never again cast its sweet speck of a
shadow on the grass. Only the day before a pair
of fine honest oxen had walked close by the place
and my vine just looked at me and winked as they
passed. It was so glad it was insignificant! But
Latin spares neither great nor small.

WHAT is it ails my little tree ?
It grew so green, and stretched so far
Its waving arms! -But, look and see!
Its leaves now curl unhealthily."
The gardener looked; It is," said he,
"HemiPtera homoptera."

Ah, yes I cried, in haste to speak;

.1 r, I .: h ': lul ;li'l ,I
; -a ~ t +J. ........ ... ,,t


--T


"; \gr l I


HEMIPTERA HOMOPTERA.
IT 'S a serious thing, my children, when Latin
things get into bushes and trees, as you 'll learn
by these verses, written by Delpino, a friend of
ST. NICHOLAS. But fortunately the gardener
generally has a little good, strong English at hand, '
and that saves the plant from further injury. A
little mite of a vine grew once close to my pulpit,
and enjoyed itself wonderfully for such a midget,
until a monster known to the dear Little School-


"You speak in mystic phrase! I cried,
"Then show me where the spoilers are!"
" In the curled leaves they safely bide:
And on the stems there, side by side,
So small they scarcely need to hide,-
"Hemiptera honroptera."
"If you would save your little tree,
Some strong soap-suds or gas of tar"-
"Aha, that 's English! It shall be
Forthcoming," said I; "then we '11 see
What havoc we can make with the
"HentiPtera homoftera."






FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


LIT-TLE RED HEN.
(The Good Old Story of the Little Red Hen and the Grain of Wheat," told in verse.)

BY EUDORA M. BUMSTEAD.

LIT-TLE RED HEN looked bus-i-ly round
In search of a bit to eat,
S Till, hid in the straw and chaff, she found
l \ A plump lit-tle grain of wheat.
"Now, who will plant this wheat?" she cried.
"- '- "Not I!" the goose and the duck re-plied;
S"Not I!" said the dog and the cat;
"Not I!" said the mouse and the rat.
Oh, I will, then!" said Lit-tle Red Hen,
And scratched with her quick lit-tle feet
Till a hole she dug, and cov-ered it snug,
And so she plant-ed the wheat.

Lit-tle Red Hen gave ten-der care,
The rain and the shine came down,
And the wheat grew green and tall and fair, .
Then turned to a gold-en brown.
"Now, who will reap this wheat?" she cried.
"Not I!" the goose and the duck re-plied;
"Not I!" said the dog and the cat;
"Not I !" said the mouse and the rat.
"Oh, I will, then!" said Lit-tle Red Hen;
And, brav-ing the mid-sum-mer heat,
She cut it at will with her trim lit-tle bill, "
And so she reaped the wheat.

Lit-tle Red Hen peeped sly-ly about
From her snug lit-tle nest in the hay;
If only that wheat were all threshed out,
And fit to be stored a-way.
Now, who. will thresh this wheat ?" she cried.
-" Not I!" the goose and the duck re-plied;
"Not I!" said the dog and the cat;
"Not I!" said the mouse and the rat.


[SEPTEMBER,





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


"Oh, I will, then!" said Lit-tle Red Hen;
And, hav-ing no flail, she beat
With her wings of red on the grain, in-stead,
And so she threshed the wheat.


S* Lit-tie Red Hen had still no rest,
-'. Al-though she had worked so well;
i,'^B She thought of the chicks in her snug lit-tie nest
How soon they would peep in the shell.
Now, who will go to the
mill ?" she cried.
"Not I!" the goose and
the duck re-plied;
"Not. I!" said the dog and, the cat;
"Not I!" said the mouse and the rat.
Oh, I will, then !" said Lit-tle Red Hen, -
And fashioned a sack so neat,
With corn-silk thread and a corn-husk red,
S"In which she car-ried the wheat.

g Lit-tle Red Hen then made some bread
That was white and light and sweet,
----'- And, when it was
done, she smiled,
and said,
"We 'll see who is will-ing to eat.
"Now, who will eat this loaf?" she cried. "
"I will!" the goose and the duck re-plied;
"I will!" said the dog and the cat;
"I will!" said the mouse and the rat.
"No doubt!" said the hen, "if you get it!" and .then
(How the lazy rogues longed for the treat!)
She clucked to her chicks-she was moth-er of six;
And that was the end of the wheat.








THE LETTER-BOX.


[SEPTEMBER,


EDITORIAL NOTES.


CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the ist of leading wood-engraver, who often goes about the hills and woods
June and the irth of September, manuscripts can not conveniently in a little wagon-car, taking views of the country,-for all the world
be examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those like an old-time photographer, except that he makes his pictures by
who desire to favor the magazine with contributions willpleasepost- cutting them into the surface of solid wood-blocks. The article con-
pone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date. cerning Mr. Kingsley was accompanied by a full-page engraving,
entitled "A Winter's Night"; and on page 829 of this number we
present another engraving by Mr. Kingsley of a summer landscape,
which he calls A September Day on the Lake." By referring to
MANY of our readers will remember a paper which appeared in the paper we have mentioned, our young readers can refresh their
ST. NICHOLAS for February, 1884, entitled An Engraver on memories with regard to Mr. Kingsley's methods of work, and thus
Wheels," and which gave an account of Mr. Elbridge Kingsley, a better understand the merits of the engraving..




THE LETTER-BOX.


HousTON, TEXAS, July I, X885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have long thought I would write, and
tell you how much my brother and I love you, and how long you
have been like "best friend" to us. We began taking you in 1875, in
far away Wisconsin, and now down here in Southern Texas, among
the fragrant Cape Jasmines and Magnolias. We enjoy and love you
more and more each year.
Miss Alcott's stories are my favorites, and I hope she will begin
another soon. Houston is called the "Magnolia City," and Gal-
veston, about fifty miles south, is called the "Oleander City,"
because its streets are lined with beautiful oleander trees. We often
go down and enjoy a day on the beach and a dip in the surf. Are
any of your readers interested in the, military contests now going on?
We are very proud of our Houston Light Guard, who took first prize
at each interstate drill held at Houston, Mobile, and New Orleans.
They are now in Philadelphia, and we hope they may return victo-
rious. We are not a day's ride by rail from Lampasas, spoken of
in "Sheep or Silver? It is now called the Saratoga of the South.
Hoping you will find room for this, I am, your devoted reader,
BELLE T.

A new story by Miss Alcott will appear in either the November or
the December number of ST. NICHOLAS.

NEW YORK.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Perhaps those of your readers who were
interested in "A School of Long Ago," will be glad of this bit of
information, which I quote from the Hartford Courant:
Fifty years ago school-masters had no clocks orwatches, but told
the time of day by a mark on the floor, or, if cloudy, guessed at
noon." It was also "a common custom to rent stoves out to those
who were not able to purchase, the rent being twenty-five cents
per month. Dr. Catlin, of Litchfield, had quite a number rented,
and we well remember seeing him on his rounds collecting his stove
rent."
This was one hundred years later than Christopher Dock lived.
Yours truly, A. B. R.

A GAME OF DOMINO-TEN-PINS.
NEW YORK, June, 1885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Cousin Clara and I want to tell you about
a new game we got up one rainy day, not long ago. We were play-
ing in the nursery and grew tired of all our old games, so we thought
we would try what fun we could have with Jack's marbles; but we
soon found that we could n't do anything with regular marbles,
so we tried dominoes. But we soon grew tired of them, too; and I
suppose if it had n't been for mamma's lap-board, we would never
have thought of our new game. But the lap-board was leaning
against a chair, and as I passed it, I happened to have a marble in
my hand and I let it slide down the board, and it knocked over two
of the dominoes as it rolled across the floor. This made me think,
" Why not play ten-pins with dominoes and marbles ?" So we did,
and we had real fun at it.
We made up a way of scoring by letting each marble count as
many as the dots on the dominoes that it knocked over. I scored
thirty-two with one marble, once.
Mamma has a friend who is an artist, and he drew a picture of us
playing our domino-ten-pins game. We send it to you, dear ST.
NICHOLAS. Please print it.
Your loving readers, CLARA AND JOSIE M.

The picture of the girls playing their game appears on page 816
of this number of ST. NICHOLAS.


BOSTON, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am twelve years old. I have taken you
for almost two years, and like you better and better.
I have a younger sister who likes you very much, too. I think
Frank Stockton's stories are real nice; "The Tricycle of the Fut-
ure is the best. I liked his last, Old Pipes and the Dryad," too.
I think" His One Fault" is nice, but I do so pity poor Kit; he is
always getting into such trouble The Brownies" are very funny.
I think. When you come, I always rush to see if the Brownies are
there, and so does Mamma and my older sister, for they like them,
too. We always look for the dude, the policeman, and the one with
the Tam o' Shanter. Good-bye, dear ST. NICHOLAS.
Your loving little reader, ELLA F.


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A DOLL.
By LOUIsA SHAW ALBEE.
(Age 15-)
ONE day I heard my doll Jane telling the story of her life to my
doll Daisy. And this is what she said:
"The first thing I remember is living in a toy-store with other
dolls. One day Jessie Harlow, a little nine-year-old girl who was
walking with her nurse, spied me out and wanted me immediately.
So they purchased me, and carried me home to have my clothes
made. They named me Jane; why, I do not know; I can not say
I admired their taste.
"A few days after my arrival, I heard the children talking very
eagerly in the nursery, and I discovered they were going to the
sea-shore, and were deciding what toys to take with them. Harry,
their brother, advised them not to take me, as I would surely be
broken on the rocks; but I was the newest thing they had, and
Jessie said I must go in bathing. So I was packed up with some
other playthings, and off to the sea-shore we went.
"After we had been there a few days, I was carried down to the
beach and taken in bathing; this seemed to please them; and so for
several days I was bathed and ducked, till I thought I should freeze.
"There was a grand picnic on an island in the harbor, and I went
along. A string was tied around my neck, and all the way I was
dragged through the water; this proceeding did not please me at
all; but I little knew of the acquaintance I should soon be forced to
make with the deep, cold sea.
They had a splendid time at the picnic. I enjoyed myself, too,
but all the while I was dreading the ride home, for I was afraid I
should be dragged through the water. However, when the time
came for returning, Jessie laid me in her lap, and I began to think
my fears were needless.
Now I am coming to the part of my story that makes me shudder.
It was growing dark as they pushed the boat off; it tipped slightly
and frightened Jessie, who jumped up, forgetting I was in her lap-
and I fell overboard. We were not far from shore, as I knew that I
fell but a short distance; but as I struck the bottom, my right arm
broke. I could still hear them talking in the boat, though I could
not distinguish what was said, and soon they were gone, and I was
left alone. After a while I went to sleep. When.I awoke I found
myself lying on the sand; I suppose the motion of the water had


874








THE LETTER-BOX. '


moved me. I did not take a very gloomy view of my situation; for
although I would rather a thousand times have been at home with
Jessie, still I thought I might be found in time. I kept wondering
if I should ever be on land again. I knew that in time the paint
must wear off my face, this troubled me, for I had a very pretty
face. Yet, I still kept up a brave heart and awaited my fate.
Before long, some fish swam up to me, but after looking at me for
some time, and concluding that I was not good to eat, they went away.
I had one consolation ; for the first few days I suffered from cold, but
now I did not mind it at all.
"I had lain here about two weeks, when one day I saw coming to-
ward me a 'queer-looking thing, very beautiful, and with long hair.
This, as I afterward learned, was a mermaid. She looked at me cu-
riously for a few minutes,, then, stooping down, she picked me up
and carried me far out into the sea to her home. This was a strange-
looking place, and not a bit like the brick houses in the city. It was
all white, with a great many little windows. On the front were lovely
red and white decorations; and the interior was still more beautiful.
"On a kind of throne sat an old man with a long white beard, and
a crown upon his head. Meriam, the young mermaid girl, swam up
to her father and showed him what she had found. He smiled and,
examining me, asked if there had been a wreck. Meriam then ex-
plained to him how she had found me.
From that time I became her constant companion, and I was
perfectly happy in the water.
One day she dressed me in a walking-suit, consisting of brown
sea-weed trimmed with coral, and an umbrella-shell for a hat. She
told me we were going to see an old witch who lived quite a distance
from our house. We went a long way, and at last arrived at a hor-
rid little hut. A cross-looking woman was sitting in front of it; she
smiled, however, when she saw Meriam. After we had been there
a few minutes, the old lady asked her to go out into her garden.
While Meriam was gone, the witch quietly slipped me into her
pocket. When it was time to go, Meriam discovered that I was
not on the table where she had laid me. Then she began to search
for me, but, of course, could not find me. She suspected the old
witch, yet dared not say anything. When she was gone, the witch
drew me out of her pocket, and looked curiously at me, then threw
me aside, and I lay unnoticed for several days.
One afternoon she came in, looking greatly disturbed, and I saw a
paper in her hand. She sat down, and calling her little slave boy,
she told him that she had stolen aplaything from the Princess, in ex-
pectation of receiving a reward on returning it to the palace. But
she had received a message from the King that he knew that she had
taken it from his daughter, and wanted it immediately. Then turning
to the boy, she ordered him to take me away to the shore. He took
me up and carried me out. I wondered what good it would do her
to send me away, when, suddenly looking up, I saw Meriam ap-
proaching us. The boy bowed and put me in his pocket. She
talked with him a few minutes, then passed on. Oh, how I longed to
ask her to take me back with her but I could not, and we passed on.
"The boy buried me in the sand, and there I lay, I think it must
have been for years. But one day I felt the sand move over my
head, and something struck me. I was triumphantly lifted out of
the sand by two little girls who were playing there. I was carried to
their home, and amused them for some time, when suddenly I was
cast aside, and here, I suppose, I shall remain for another age. I do
wish I was in the sea again "

Here I must have fallen asleep, for I can not remember any more
of the doll's story. When I awoke next morning, I thought I must
have been dreaming; yet, thinking it over, it seemed so real, I can not
now believe it was all a dream. As I had left off playing with
dolls, I threw Jane into the sea, where she wished to be, in hopes
that she would soon find Meriam, and be happy the rest of her life,
which I hope she is now enjoying.


COLORADO SPRINGS, COL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have an uncle, who lives a long way
from us, and he sends the ST. NICHOLAS to us every year. I like very
much to read the letters from your little friends. And I thought
I would write you about my father's ranch in Kansas. The ranch
is on the south side of the Arkansas, and because there is no bridge,
we ford. the river. One time, when papa, my cousin and I were
going to cross the river, we met a man who was going to cross at
the same place with us who had a lot of sheep and lambs, that he
was taking across to winter. As he drove the sheep and lambs


into the water, many of the lambs got stuck in the mud because they
were too weak to wade.
When papa and Cousin Rob were helping the man with the
sheep, I pulled out of the mud fifteen little lambs, and put them into
the wagon to let them ride home.
T. B. R.

MAROON, QUEENSLAND.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for a year and four
months, and I like you very much, and so does my sister Dolly. I
like best the "Spinning-wheel Stories" and Mr. J. T. Trowbridge's,
especially "His One Fault." But Dolly likes "Davy and the
Goblin" best. This is the first letter I have ever written to you.
I am a little Australian girl, living up in the bush, seventy-five miles
from Brisbane. Mother likes you very much, too.
I remain your affectionate reader, M. A. M. P.


WE gladly put before our readers this clever verse- sent to us as
the composition of a little girl eleven years old:

A maiden and a knight one eve
Were wand'ring through a wood;
Her name was May, and she was fair,
And he was brave and good.
It was the month of love, you know,
The moon shed down her light;
He said, Oh, what a lovely May!"
She said, "A charming knightht"
URSULA S. ARNOLD.

SUISUN, CAL., 1885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you since 1882. Your
stories are very interesting and useful, for they show where so many
people fail in doing what is right, for if some one laughs at them,
they will try to please them instead of doing what they know is
right. "The Tinkham Brothers' Tide-Mill" shows, if you do what
you think is right, you will win in the end ; the Moonraker"
shows what comes of reading bad books, and "His One Fault"
shows that if you are forgetful you must always get into trouble.
I am always impatient for the end of each month to come, so that I
can have you to read. Yours truly, ZAIDEE.


LIZA.

BY JOSEPHINE POLLARD.

LIZA was a little maid,
Born within the woodland shade,
Where the ferns and lichens grow,
Where the maples bud and blow.
Orange dress, with spots of brown,
Was the maiden's only gown;
Not a wrinkle here nor there,
Not an inch of stuff to spare.

She was happy and content,
Where her early days were spent,
Though her wardrobe's only store
Was the simple gown she wore.
For the woods were her delight,
From the dewy dawn till night,
Where the sunshine seldom strayed
To disturb the peaceful shade.
But one day, alas! alas!
Some rude stranger chanced to pass
By the place where Liza stood
In the shadow of the wood.
He admired, first, her gown -
Orange 't was, with spots of brown -
And declared it was a dress
Suited to her loveliness.

Christopher! he loudly swore,
As away the child he bore:
He who first the nymph descries
Is entitled to the prize!"
All at once the little eft
Seemed of hope and life bereft,
And she felt her skimpy gown
Was not suited to the town.

Pretty house with front of glass,
Dainty dishes for the lass,
Curious looks,-ne'er made amends
For this exile from her friends;


875








TH-E AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


So one day the stranger took
Liza to the very nook
Whence he stole her. Don't you laugh
When you see her photograph!


PARANA, ENTRE RioS, March 22, 1885.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAs: This is the first time I have written to you
since I began taking you, which was in 1876, and for three or four
years I have intended to write to you, to let you know how much I
enjoy reading you. I also have had the two first volumes, for they
were given to my brother. When we first got you I could only look
at the pictures, but each year I loved you more, and now I watch
every mail till you come.


I am a long distance from home, which is in Pennsylvania. I
am going to the best and largest normal school in the republic,
and it has seven hundred and fifty pupils, in which Spanish is the
language used, but English and French are taught as accomplish-
ments. The customs of the people here are very different from ours.
One of them is to take mat6. It is a kind of tea made of an herb of
Paraguay. The cup from which it is taken is a small species of
gourd, and the mat6 is drawn through a silver tube. The fashion
is to pass it around to the friends who come to call. I think it is
horrid. Good-bye. From your loving reader,
E. B. E.
Parand, Argentine Republic, S. A.


WE must thank the following young friends for their pleasant let-
ters: James and Arthur Kingdon, Lily R. B., Florence C. B., Elaina
Thayer, Ethel Rivers," Lottie W.,." Bessie Percival," Lily Wells,
Christine R., Edith M. Rawson, Tom Sabin, Ada C. C., Helen, Sue
Pendleton, Adele Morgenthau, "Abby and Cassy," C. D. Hinkly,
"Julius and Vincent," Bertie Robinson, A. Nelson, Daniel K. S.,
Violet Campbell, Josie L., Annie Smith, C. Ingling, Lucy N. B.,
Clara W., Rita Morris, F. F. A., Willie H. Powell, Frankie Holland,
Mollie Allison, Grace Searles, Bessie M., Alice W. Cogden, Robert
L. Raymond, Hortie 0., and Anna Brendel.


A WORD TO MINERALOGISTS.

SINCE the organization of the Agassiz Association, one of its most
unexpected results has been the marked influence exerted on the
methods of instruction and the course of study in many public and
private schools. It has been demonstrated that there is a wide-spread
desire on the part of the young to acquire a practical knowledge of
natural science.
This Association gives great aid to all such persons, but from
the nature of the case, the A. A. must operate more in the way of
stimulating and encouraging students, and inciting schools to give
better scientific instruction, than by actual direct teaching. Prob-
ably it would be a very moderate estimate to suppose that the study
of plants, insects, and birds has been introduced into more than a
hundred institutions during the last five years through the agency
of our Society. But in the department of mineralogy the case seems
to be different. The desire of learning is quite as strong and gen-
eral as in any of the other branches, but the number of competent
instructors is greatly less. Probably ten teachers feel able to teach
the elements of botany from the specimens, for every one who dares
attempt practical work in mineralogy. The growing demand for
instruction will eventually cause an increase in the number of good
teachers; but in the meanwhile, has not our Association, in this
branch of study, a very important field for its special work of assist-
ance and encouragement? An enthusiastic mineralogist could easily
arrange and conduct through these pages a short course in mineral
observation aud analysis, sufficiently extended, to awaken through-


out the whole country in the minds of young and old a strong
desire and determination to learn about mineral formations, and
also to illustrate, for the benefit of all, the right methods of study
and of teaching.
The president of the A. A., not being a practical mineralogist,
hesitates about preparing such a course himself, and hereby invites
any philanthropic specialist in this department, or in its kindred
branch, geology, to volunteer to conduct a course of easy lessons
in the observation of minerals.

CONCHOLOGY.
Mr. Harry E. Dore, whose generous offer appeared in our latest
report, sends this additional word of explanation:

"1 28 HALL STREET, PORTLAND, OREGON.
"I will return shells sent by competing and non-successful Chap-
ters, provided stamps for such return are sent. Perhaps it will be
hard to determine which Chapter was successful, unless the quality
as well as the number of specimens is to be considered I feel that it
isjust as wrong to collect young and undeveloped shells as for a
sportsman to catch three-inch trout. I never take any but adult
mollusks, except for study and with land-shells this is highly im-
portant, as the young ones never have perfectly formed lips. Last
week, a ramble of three hours, within three miles from my home,
repaid me with over forty examples, all living, of five species of land-
shells, and one fresh-water species, all found within thirty feet of one
another, and each living in a different condition from all the rest.
"AriontajFdelis, climbing on the trees; Zonites arborea, hidden
away under the bark of decayed trees; Mesodon Columbianus, living


876


[SEPTEMBER,








THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


in moss; and Macrocyclis Vancouverensis, in marshy ground near a
small brook which contained numbers of Goniobasis flicifera.
I am always ready to help the members of the A. A., either
individually or collectively."

DRAWING.

The following very practical offer of aid should be generally and
thankfully accepted:
26 GREENWOOD STREET, NEW HAVEN, CONN.
MR. H. H. BALLARD:
DEAR SIR: I should like to offer my assistance to members
of the A. A. who wish to make drawings of such things as they
collect.
By making a set of working copies of some insect, flower, or other
specimen, in progressive stages from outline to color, I could show
them how to make drawings for themselves.
I should only request that a few postage stamps might be sent to
pay return postage on the specimens and copies.-E. T. FRITSCHE,
Designer.
NOTES.

180. A Snail's eggs. I have dissected, among other mollusks,
a snail that I take to be a Paludina decisa. It is about an inch
long; aperture dextral operculated; whorls spiral; fresh water; bur-
rows in mud. I was surprised to find inside of its shell, wrapped up
in the folds of its flesh, a large number of small shells, only about
four times as big as a pin's head.
Now, what I wish to know is, do the eggs of this snail hatch
before they are laid ? And is it, then, viviparous ? Or is it oviparous,
like other snails; and if so, how did the small shells get in there ?-
F. S. Arnold, Poughkeepsie.
r8i. Water. In answer to the question: Is water a mineral ? "
I say, it is, since it is an oxide of hydrogen. Gilbert Van Ingen.
x82. Hoop-snake. (a) There are hoop-snakes; I have seen seve-
ral.-Ambrose S. Wight, Milan, Mich.
(b) I have seen only one hoop-snake, but there are many of
them both in Tennessee and Kentucky. Two years ago one was
killed near our house. A gentleman coming to our home first saw
it rolling like a hoop along the lane ahead of him. He killed it, and
we brought it to the house and examined it closely. It was three
feet long, and half an inch in diameter. Body round and tapering
from middle toward both head and tail. At the end of the tail
was a sharp little horn shaped something like this >. In this was
a poisoned sting. These snakes roll toward an object when angered,
and, just before reaching it, unfasten the head and tail, and strike,
causing almost instant death. The color is dark, much like a rattle-
snake's. I knew of one that rolled and tried to strike a cow. The
cow ran out of reach, and the snake struck a small sapling, which
afterward died. I am only twelve years old, so I have not described
the snake very well; but there is certainly such a thing as a hoop-
snake, both my father and his father having seen many of them.-
Chesley Alexander, Abilene, Texas.

[In sending such accounts as this, our friends can not be too care-
ful to adhere closely to the facts that have come under their own
personal observation. What A. has heard B. say that C. has seen,
is generally of little scientific value.
All that Master Alexander seems to have SEEN, is a snake three
feet long, half an inch in diameter, tapering both ways, ofa dark
color, and tied at the tail with a sharp, horny foint. That this
creature was a "hoop-snake," that it rolled," struck at objects,
had a poisoned sting, and was capable of causing instant death to
animals and perhaps to trees, may be true, but can not yet be ac-
cepied as certain. Now, let us hear from every one who hasever
seen a hoop-snake with his own eyes. Let each member who is
interested in the question ask his or her acquaintances. Let its
gather all the testimony possible. J

CHAPTER REPORTS.

789, Kioto, Japan. We now number 21 active members, and one
honorary. I am afraid some do not understand that, in order to
follow out your suggestion on p. 50, and the Ist condition of cor-
respondence, on p. 65 of the Handbook of the A. A., U. S. stamps
must be used in writing to this Chapter, and not postal cards.-C.
M. Cady, Sec.
ioo, Hartford, Conn., (B) Kindly change the address of this
Chapter to Box 657. We have had this year, readings from Kings-
ley's Madam How and Lady Why," Torrey's "Birds in the
Bush," McCook's Tenants of an Old Farm," and Abbott's Ram-
bles of a Naturalist about Home." We have egg and insect collec-
tions, and some of the children have found salamanders. We
belong to the corps of observers of the migrations of birds, and are
trying to become familiar with the notes and habits of those of the
Connecticut Valley.-C. M. Hewins.


33 Salt Lake City, (A) The time for our annual report is at
hand, and you have not heard from us since the middle of last Octo-
ber. This negligence has not been owing to a falling off in interest,
or to the absence of anything to report; for, with the exception of a
few set-backs, this has been our most prosperous year by far.
On November I, our botanist sent to Professor E. L. French, at
Aurora, N. Y., a set of 278 plants, which secured the first of the
prizes offered by him in August of last year. About the middle of
the same month we purchased a $5so microscope of the best English
make. This has been of very great assistance to us in original in-
vestigation, and in the preparation of talks for meetings.
During the winter, the geologist was busily engaged determining,
arranging, and cataloguing the specimens contained in his cabinet
This is six feet high, four feet wide, and has five shelves. The
entomologist, C. A. Rand, was studying, classifying, and mounting
the insects caught during the spring and summer.
The botanist found enough to occupy his attention in analyzing
his plants, sorting out and mounting a sample set, and preparing
for exchanges. The three other members, Walter H. Nichols, Fred.
Browning, and Wesley Browning, were not so steadily occupied in
scientific pursuits; for, after the first enthusiasm, their mterest in the
objects of the Association had been gradually lessening, until, on May
6 of this year, they withdrew from the Chapter. The remaining
three kept up the meetings till Mr. Rand went north, prospecting.
Then we stopped them, but shall begin again as soon as he returns,
early in the fall. We hope to add fresh recruits before long. The
season, this spring, was backward, and the flowers did not appear
before the middle of April; so the botanist, during March, collected
beetles and cocoons for exchanging with a member of the Brooklyn
Entomological Society. In the neighborhood of the city there is a
moth, Samia gloveri, similar to Cecropia in size and general mark-
ings, and easily mistaken for it by the ordinary observer. The
cocoons vary from two to three inches in length, and from one-half
to three-quarters of an inch in diameter at the largest portion. The
outer coat is coarse and woven of dirty gray and brown threads,
closely resembling dried fibers of trees or shrubs. The inner coat is
of soft brown silk. On March 24th, on stumpy willows lining the
banks of Jordan River, I found 20o good cocoons. Some were
five or six feet above the ground, but the majority were among
the roots and lower parts of stems, concealed from all but scientific
eyes. For the purpose of raising these I made a light frame, three
feet by two by one, covered it with mosquito bar, and suspended it
in the garret. The top was made so as to be raised or lowered at
pleasure. Besides these cocoons, I obtained by exchange those of
Polyphemus, Promethea, Cecrofia, and Cynthia moths. The first
Gloverie appeared April 29, and the last, May 15; Ccrotia, from
May 13 to June I; Cynthia, from June 18 to July 6; the first Poly-
fhemus appeared May 21, and thefirstPromethea, June 24. I have
also raised a number of butterflies and moths from the caterpillars.
A good cabinet for insects was made by taking a sound dry-goods
box, filling cracks with putty and listing, and putting on a tight-
fitting door. The boxes, setting-boards, bottles, etc., are laid on a
few shelves made for this purpose; and if tobacco, open bottles of
benzine, camphor, and disinfecting cones are placed around freely,
the dermestes will probably keep away. The cabinet should be
hung up a foot or two from the floor. We have found it very help-
ful and interesting to keep journals of tramps, observations, and
captures. By so doing, one learns to write more freely and will ob-
serve more closely.
The geologist has in his cabinet some specimens with which mem-
bers of eastern Chapters are, perhaps, unfamiliar. So-called "hell-
fire rock is a dirty white sandstone, which, when scratched in the
dark with a sharp tool, gives out a bright red streak, as a match does
when rubbed on a rough surface. Cubic crystals of bisulphuret of
iron were found imbedded in schist on Fremont and Carrington
Islands, in Great Salt Lake. He devoted some time to egg-collect-
ing, this spring, and has twenty varieties, including those of the
Californian gull, white pelican, great blue heron, American coot,
yellow-headed blackbird, vireos of different kinds, etc. A five days'
trip on the lake in June of this year was very successful. I wish
we could tell you more of our walks, and what we see and learn in
this interesting region, but have only time to say that my brother
has taken sixteen trips already this year, and I have taken thirty-two.
I can not tell anything in particular about Mr. Rand, who is in
Idaho, except that he has been studying and collecting all his spare
time. Reading such books as Agassiz's Journey in Brazil, Dar-
win's Voyage of a Naturalist, and Bates's Naturalist on the River
A nmazon and the study of Chadbourne's Natural Theology have in-
creased our enthusiasm and taught us how and what to observe.-
Very truly yours, Fred. E. Leonard, P. O. Box 265.


EXCHANGES.

A piece of money from Feejee Islands, and eye-stones from Sand-
wich Islands, for pieces of petrified leaves.- L. Van Ness, rono
Green street, San Francisco, Cal.
Pressed, unmounted specimens of red variety ofDaucus carota.-
G. van Ingen, 81 Carrol street, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
Pentremites, crinoid stems, and ollitic lime-stone, for asbestos,
etc. Writefirst.-John Durkee, jr., Bowling Green, Ky.


877








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


Beetles.-Wm. D. Richardson, Fredericksburg, Va.
Soil from Georgia and New York, coguina, and various Florida
specimens, for soil from other States, and a star-fish.-Edith C.
Holmes, 14 Grover street, Auburn, N. Y.
Insects.-Write first.-Stewart E. White, 2 Waverly Place, Grand
Rapids, Mich.
White holly, fossils, or minerals, for minerals.-Selden Smyser,
Windsor, Ill. Box 140.
Pale blue and moss agates, for South American and African shells.
- Roy Hopping, Elizabeth, N. J.
A magic lantern and outfit, including 12 colored and ground
glass slides; also r2 extra fine slides; also a large list of articles,
among which are minerals, fossils, curiosities, coins, Chinese curiosi-
ties, books, natural history papers, cards, ores, stones, etc.; also
many other articles,-for a good microscope and outfit, of high mag-
nifying power; a telescope, or a photographic camera and outfit, or
any other optical or scientific instrument. All letters, postals, etc.,
answered. Please send for list of articles.-Kurt Kleinschmidt,
Box 292, Helena, Montana.
Shells, mica, and Chinese nuts, for insects, shells, or minerals.-
Morgan Backus, 2119 Buchanan street, San Francisco, Cal.
Minerals, for first-class eggs, with data. Send stamp for list. No
postal cards wanted.-W. G. Talmadge, Plymouth, Conn.


NEW CHAPTERS.

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
869 Bayonne, N. J. (A) .... 5..W. H. Simmons, Box 138.
870 North Adams, Mass. (B) 4..W. W. Darby.
871 Staunton, Va. (A) ...... 4..A. E. Dabney (Academy).
872 Cleveland, 0. (D) ...... 6..Miss J. C. Haserot, 91 State St.
873 Pamrapo, N. J. (A) .... 6..G. Foster.
874 Lee, Mass. (A) ........ Edward C. Bradley, Box 126.
875 New London, Ct. (B) ..10. .James N. Sterry.
876 Philadelphia (G) ....... 5. Geo. R. Newbold, Chestnut Hill.
877 East Saginaw, Mich. (A). 6. Sam. F. Owen, Box 527.
878 Woodbridge, N. J. (A)..25..Miss R. Anna Miller.
879 Poughkeepsie, N. Y. (B).12..A. N. Thurston,
24 Washington Street.
88o Grand Rapids, Mich. (C). 4.. Stewart E. White, 2 Waverly P1.
881 Englewood, N. J. (A).... 6.. Miss Nellie Chater, Box 91.

Address all communications for this department to the President,
MR. HARLAN H. BALLARD,
Principal of Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.


THE RIDDLE-BOX.


RHOMBOID.
AcRoss: i. A fowl with a white body, and a crest on the head.
2. The material of old ropes untwisted and pulled into loose hemp.
3. The higher of the two kinds of masculine voices. 4. A town of
Palestine. 5. A portable chair.
DOWNWARD: I. In cane. 2. To depart. 3. An animal. 4. In-
creases. 5. A kingdom of Northern Africa. 6. Manner. 7. A
wand. 8. Two-thirds of a small horse. 9. In cane.
"A. P. OWDER, JR."
THE LAMP PUZZLE.


flower. My 45-33-15-8-27-38-r7-25-34 is the name of an English
poet born in 1714. My 23-29-41-13 is felled. My 43-39-19-47-
14 are imitations. My 49-12-32-46-9-28 is the name of a wise and
prudent king of Pylas and Messenia. My 35-3-16-44 is to partake
of the principal meal in the day. My 21-7-1-10 is an ecclesiastical
dignitary. "CORNELIA LIMBERR"

REVERSIBLE DIAMONDS.
I. In Podsnap. 2. To imitate. 3. Velocity. 4. A kind of fish.
5. In Podsnap.
REVERSED: I. In Podsnap. 2. A sheltered place. 3. Seas. 4.
Three-fifths of a word meaning a division of the ralvy. E In


Podsnap. M. C. D.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

My primals spell the name of a well-known Indian chief; my fi-
nals, a word meaning feeble.
S. CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): i. Conceited. 2. Arrange. 3.
.. Unjust. 4. That which is hard to bear. 5. Belonging to armor or
to the escutcheon of a family. 6. To permit. 7. Disturb. 8.
Closeness. IDA G.
CHARADE.

MY first is heard in mercantile resorts,
And royalty my second brings to mind;
S My whole, a word that's very often heard,
... Yet seldom is pronounced, as you will find.

WORD-SQUARE.
I. Violent passion. 2. A tendon. 3. To sigh heavily. 4. To slip
away. 5. To restore. B. T.
S. INCLOSED DIAMOND.

Reading across: I. A tribe of Indians. 2. Bashful. 3. A bever-
age. 4. To imitate. 5. Domestic animals. 6. Dividing. 7.
Parted. 8. The art of discerning character from the features of
the face. 9. A beverage. o1. A cave. xi. Inhuman. 12. A fa-
miliar school-study. 13. The science of sound. 14. Relevant. 15.
A fence. 16. Forever. 17. To crawl. 18. A boat with two masts. .. ... .
19. Like a scholar. o2. Inclination. The central letters reading .. .
downward, will spell the source from which much oil is obtained.
WALLACE COSGRAVE.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA.....
I AM composed offorty-nine letters, and embody in a familiar ACRoss: i. An edifice. 2. Penetrates. 3. Fruitfulness. 4. The
couplet the same idea that is conveyed in the following quotation sky or heavens. 5. Similar. 6. A council of syndics. 7. A bi-
from Horace : carbonate of potash. 8. A tomb. 9. Glittering.
"Misce stultitiam consiliis brevem." The letters represented by stars will, when properly re-arranged,
My 5-31-20-40 is part of a fork. My 36-24-48-4-11 are garden spell a word meaning according to circumstances.
vegetables. My 18-42-2-22 is to fade. My 30-26-6-37 is a stately SMALL POTATOES."


878


[SEPTEMBER,








1885.s THE RIDDLE-BOX. 879


ILLUSTRATED WORD-DWINDLE.


FIND a word of six letters that will rightly describe one of the six
objects here pictured. Remove one letter and transpose the remain-
ing letters and the name of another object will be formed, and so on
till only a single letter remains.


SINGLE CENTRAL ACROSTIC.
EACH of the words described contains the same number of letters,
and the central letters, reading upward, spell what an Irishman said
the coast of Ireland was red with.
CROSS-WORDS: x. A scriptural name. 2. A long strip. 3. Snow
with a mixture of rain. 4. A glossy fabric. 5. A hollow dish for
holding water. 6. Part of the arm. 7. Exhibits. 8. Firm.
MARION W.
ST. ANDREWS CROSS OF DIAMONDS.




. .













I. UPPER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: i. In mad. 2. A deephole.
3. Pertaining to the Carthaginians. 4. The least quantity possible.
5. One who regulates. 6. A dog. 7. In mad.
II. UPPER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In mad. 2. Obscure.
3. Valleys. 4. A body of citizens enrolled for military exercise.
5. A measure. 6. The title of a baronet. 7. In mad.
IlI. CENTRAL DIAMOND: I. In mad. 2. An engine of war
used for battering. 3. Vexes. 4. Bad air. 5. To deserve. 6. To
hold a session. 7. In mad.
IV. LOWER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In mad. 2. The name
of Mr. Pickwick's servant. 3. Wise men. 4. A village of Pales-
tine. 5. Farinaceous. 6. Cunning. 7. In mad.
V. LOWER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND : I. In mad. 2. A number.
3. A province of Austria. 4. Combined with carbonic acid. 5.
Famed. 6. Directed. 7. In mad. "ALCIBIADES."


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE AUGUST NUMBER.
ILLUSTRATED NUMERICAL ENIGMA. Gold is the dust that blinds WORD-SQUARES. Burns. 2. Union. 3. Rinse. 4. Nosle.
all eyes. 5. Sneer. II. x. Glass. 2. Light 3. Agree. 4. Sheer. 5.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Waverley Novels; finals, Sir Wal- Stern.
ter Scott. CROSS-WORDS: I. WingS. 2. Alibl. 3. VapoR. 4. CUBE. From i to 2, devolve; 2 to 6, endures; 5 to 6, newness;
EndoW. 5. RegmA. 6. LeveL. 7. EdicT. 8. YaquE. 9. i to 5, diction; 3 to 4, rectify; 4 to 8, younger; 7 to 8, empower;
NeveR. xo. OathS. Ix. VareC. 12. EratO. 13. LimiT. 14. 3 to 7, revolve; x to 3, deer; 2 to 4, eddy; 6to 8, soar; 5 to7, name.
SporT. DOUBLE CENTRAL ACROSTIC. From r to 3, frontiers; from 4 to
DIAMOND IN A HALF-SQUARE. Half-square. Across: i. no- 6, toadstool. CROSS-WORDS: i. raFTer. 2. chROme. 3. grOAns.
Dated. 2. oPENed. 3. DEVON. 4. aNON. 5. teN. 6. Ed. 4. caNDid. 5. ouTSet. 6. trITon. 7. odEOns. 8. heROic.
7. d. 9. miSLed.
BEHEADINGS. Trowbridge. Across: i. T-aunt. 2. R-over. 3. LETTER PUZZLES. T. On-ta-rio. 2. Under-t-one-s.
O-live. 4. W-rath. 5. B-roil. 6. R-hone. 7. I-deal. 8. D-rill. NUMERICAL ENIGMA. Quotation from Seneca: "He who is his
9. G-lass. xo. E-vent. own friend is a friend to all men." Quotation from Shakespeare:
DIAMONDS. I. I. C. 2. Cut. 3. Cured. 4. Curtain. 5. Tease. "To thine own self be true,
6. Die. 7. N. II x. M. 2. Pop. 3. Panel. 4. Monitor. 5. And it must follow, as the night the day,
Petit. 6. Lot. 7. R. Thou canst not then be false to any man."
HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, codfish. Cross-words: x. perChes. 2. ILLUSTRATED WORD-SQUARE. I. Chin. 2. Hone. 3. Inks.
prOve. 3. oDe. 4. F. 5. kId. 6. roSin. 7. batHers. 4. Nest. CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Napoleon.

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 JULY NUMBER were received, before JULY 20, from "Bugaboo Bill" and Papa--Maggie
and May Turrill -" Joe and Paddy Cripsy and Bobby Shaftoe "- Alice Maude S.-" Betsy Trotwood "-" Live Oak "-" Eureka"-
San Anselmo Valley "-John Cutler- Willie Serrell and friends- Willie T. Harris Mary L. Richardson "Papa, Mamma, and
Jamie "-Ida C. L.- Harry J. Childs-" Mnemosyne "-"The Carters "-Herbert Gaytes -Paul Reese- Mamie P. Hitchcock and
Edith L. Hunnewell- Nellie and Reggie- Wallace and Papa- Laurie and May.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER were received, before July 20, from R. 0. Haulold, 3- Lilly Wells, 3- Annie W.
North, i Arthur Haas, i-" The Hazelton Four," 5- Elizabeth Saville, x Margaret C. Raymond, Ia Maude D. D., I- Maggie
Tulliver, 2- Harrison Alien, Ethel Bennett, Effie K. Talboys, 9 Newton Tebow, 4 -J. A. Westervelt Clark, Clara Cono-
ver, 7- C. H. Urmston, 6- Blanche H. Smith, 2-" Marmoset," i -Susie Talbot, i -Adele Neuburger, x-Horace R. Parker, lo-
Lucy Cross, 7-Jared W. Young, No name, Elberon, x-W. S. Symington, jr., -Ernestine and Myra, 9- Eddie and Ottie, 3-
Grace M. McDonald, 2-"The Triplets," W. H. Lamson, 2--Alice R. Douglass, 3 Schuyler E. Day, 2 Beatrice Atkins, -
Mamie Blun, 2 Sara and Zara, o Carrie Speiden and Edith McKeever, o- S. E. S., 7- Emma C., I -Clive Newcome, x -Ellie
and Susie, 5- George S. Seymour, 2- Jessie B. Carter, I L. H., 9- Brownie, 3-" Mignon," I- A. J. Wells, to- E. H. and T.
A., 3-Richard D. Marsh, 1o-"H. I. S.," 7- James Gillin, 4-Oscar B. Burton, 3- Kate Franklyn, 3- G. Timpson, 3-Ethel
Daymude, 7- Mamma, Nora and Carrie, 7 -J. S. H., 2 Carrie V. Howard, 9- Edna Doughty, I Llewellyn Lloyd, x -"Judith,"
io- Mamie L. Mensch, 7--Blanche Powers, x -"Squirrel" and Leu, 4- Chingackgook," 4.







ST. NICIIOLAS. [SEPTEMBER.


PEDLAR: "WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT?--A HIGH COLLAR OR A SHOULDER-BRACE?"


A GREAT BUT MODEST BEGGAR: "GIVE US A PEANUT,--THAT 'S A GOOD FELLOW!~ '


88o


I _I




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