<%BANNER%>
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 When Shakspere was a boy
 May song
 The girls' tricycle club and its...
 Morning-glories
 Little lord Fauntleroy
 George Washington
 Spring beauties
 How Conrad lost his school-boo...
 Blossom-time - A search for the...
 The caricature plant
 Vegetable clothing
 Woe to the foreign dolly!
 St. Nicholas dog stories
 The smallest circus in the...
 Rock-a-bye
 What Bertie saw in the flowers
 Keeping the cream of one's...
 Wonders of the alphabet
 Bubble bowling
 The knickerbocker boy
 The brownies on roller skates
 Easter carol
 The handiwork of some clever...
 A new view of the moon
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The Agassiz association - Sixty-first...
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine


BLDN NEH CCLC ICDL UFSPEC



xml version 1.0 encoding UTF-8 standalone no
fcla fda yes
dl
!-- St. Nicholas, vol. 13, no. 7 ( Serial ) --
METS:mets OBJID UF00065513_00171
xmlns:METS http:www.loc.govMETS
xmlns:mods http:www.loc.govmodsv3
xmlns:ufdc http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2
xmlns:xlink http:www.w3.org1999xlink
xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance
xmlns:daitss http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss
xsi:schemaLocation
http:www.loc.govMETS http:www.loc.govstandardsmetsmets.xsd
http:www.loc.govmodsv3 http:www.loc.govmodsv3mods-3-3.xsd http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitssdaitss.xsd http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2 http:www.uflib.ufl.edudigitalmetadataufdc2ufdc2.xsd
METS:metsHdr CREATEDATE 2009-07-28T09:00:49Z ID LASTMODDATE 2007-05-04T16:54:32Z RECORDSTATUS NEW
METS:agent ROLE CREATOR TYPE ORGANIZATION
METS:name UF
OTHERTYPE SOFTWARE OTHER
Go UFDC FDA Preparation Tool
INDIVIDUAL
UFAD\mariner1
METS:dmdSec DMD1
METS:mdWrap MDTYPE MODS MIMETYPE textxml LABEL Metadata Object Description Schema
METS:xmlData
mods:mods
mods:accessCondition type restrictions on use displayLabel Rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
mods:identifier OCLC 01764817
mods:language
mods:languageTerm text English
mods:location
mods:physicalLocation Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
code UF
mods:name personal
mods:namePart Dodge, Mary Mapes
date 1830-1905
mods:role
mods:roleTerm authority marcrelator Creator
mods:note Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
"A monthly magazine for boys and girls."
Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
funding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
mods:originInfo
mods:publisher Scribner,
mods:place
mods:placeTerm New York
mods:dateIssued May 1886
mods:recordInfo
mods:recordIdentifier source ufdc UF00065513_00171
mods:recordContentSource University of Florida
mods:relatedItem original
mods:physicalDescription
mods:extent 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
series
mods:titleInfo
mods:title St. Nicholas.
mods:part
mods:detail Enum1
mods:caption Vol. 13
mods:number 13
Enum2
No. 7
7
mods:subject
mods:topic Children's literature
Periodicals.
Literature for Children
St. Nicholas, vol. 13, no. 7
alternative
Saint Nicholas
mods:typeOfResource text
DMD2
OTHERMDTYPE UFDC University of Florida Digital Collections
ufdc:procParam
ufdc:Collection.Primary JUV
ufdc:SubCollection NICK
ufdc:MainThumbnail 00001thm.jpg
ufdc:bibDesc
ufdc:BibID UF00065513
ufdc:VID 00171
ufdc:Publisher
ufdc:Name Scribner,
ufdc:Source
ufdc:statement UF University of Florida
ufdc:Type Serial
ufdc:serial
ufdc:SerialHierarchy level 1 order 13 Vol. 13
2 No. 7
METS:amdSec
METS:digiprovMD AMD_DAITTS
DAITTS
daitss:daitss
daitss:AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT PROJECT
METS:fileSec
METS:fileGrp
METS:file GROUPID G1 J1 imagejpeg CHECKSUM 40b5e5ffcccd0e6a89a39e5d48bf9165 CHECKSUMTYPE MD5 SIZE 525354
METS:FLocat LOCTYPE OTHERLOCTYPE SYSTEM xlink:href 00001.jpg
G2 J2 b4d621bf44616ae7d357d96de5bbb198 171846
00002.jpg
G3 J3 cf681d6e1b5c46a0ad9db92668097d2c 314482
00003.jpg
G4 J4 11121dc26ec03cf211ea19c793131d56 263335
00004.jpg
G5 J5 43e5180744fba40ae743d73d91754c5b 333564
00005.jpg
G6 J6 b2939f70528738baa94f9abe3494d889 374276
00006.jpg
G7 J7 de0b4f85e48323da011f0085bb7d213d 356552
00007.jpg
G8 J8 5b82e019616b040deb9b6be90f74d84c 300191
00008.jpg
G9 J9 e2e4b7be1d74fecb1255985bbf0b828f 340522
00009.jpg
G10 J10 023ba9d9a4a17eef15e1878cdb5fcecf 331689
00010.jpg
G11 J11 d4ff656f23059847f238741b1a2e95c1 331034
00011.jpg
G12 J12 4e10c8f1cce5918508d44dcbe5e70895 333402
00012.jpg
G13 J13 67f178eaf5eb1bc24a568b6b618d3fad 249241
00013.jpg
G14 J14 f3b07a8e4927c2ec9f50faed244b3ffd 248610
00014.jpg
G17 J17 f819cc26ea2bc45ca19cc3101424aaf6 318956
00017.jpg
G18 J18 4053f371c61b6261975c021749be6ba3 335786
00018.jpg
G19 J19 9bd428cced27479e021fe7967ec94749 249914
00019.jpg
G20 J20 ff59c0357b39cabadff928d050aa336d 284404
00020.jpg
G21 J21 0d0ee56efd21894603ff17c90dc42d3d 365045
00021.jpg
G22 J22 85dd5e85e31bb27cb5b515468b0e1969 312952
00022.jpg
G23 J23 b543af0c461c681b966cf131d1db22ef 324596
00023.jpg
G24 J24 d0bd899c14a60fd4d903726e7a33059b 172647
00024.jpg
G25 J25 00caeb18b30e6cdb0efcf5880cfd2024 329913
00025.jpg
G26 J26 67abe3b0df4523c9874089f0d7032191 344859
00026.jpg
G27 J27 2b20eb8430048b4b3ae43daa19c6ed52 314630
00027.jpg
G28 J28 59709c1dc54a9afec392a29241aa3a62 284814
00028.jpg
G29 J29 0681b7fbb0ec7084fb8171363b06b1b4 353581
00029.jpg
G30 J30 ca372f89d11dad1c6bb4e0ac67c04805 333033
00030.jpg
G31 J31 7b00f973a6ed000219428c2b2064a019 344018
00031.jpg
G32 J32 90735b8bb8839aaba1b6da07fbf93726 324672
00032.jpg
G33 J33 eec4d2fcb57f489f4683c19c6dbde5c5 334530
00033.jpg
G34 J34 a5dcdd6d320a1f397ddd063d7d05fc62 352243
00034.jpg
G35 J35 d4f9a32e751c03eb2c6a4ef2227389ee 356859
00035.jpg
G36 J36 1b8fbc36177fad35e32fd1f8394f5756 321111
00036.jpg
G37 J37 e4fde56c8e2a8ba82d779ea93e43ce8a 306806
00037.jpg
G38 J38 b157d457d080f70a82fb96da834baf56 330231
00038.jpg
G39 J39 bf8ecc263640e84b9af95fbe3b3814b2 317992
00039.jpg
G40 J40 633bf8936a6cbfce531f3a7c50096932 312501
00040.jpg
G41 J41 dc601aac2e552f60ad0f0de69ca62735 245372
00041.jpg
G42 J42 8025e80fdb976d23de8ba95918393b8d 322546
00042.jpg
G43 J43 f94fb456d393d78070c7c575374a02ef 296826
00043.jpg
G44 J44 7426bd3f5a44c3ef82b66b787bcdee3f 286701
00044.jpg
G45 J45 c92f49e9033b289be369b81639a81173 276556
00045.jpg
G46 J46 c276cc14411ffdc5be3d7205a9a53f47 273021
00046.jpg
G47 J47 79b2a261b3d1f71adbbd5f45d252fc4e 285151
00047.jpg
G48 J48 bfc05415971d45f58d92ebde1ffc0c8f 286115
00048.jpg
G49 J49 c6c52e071a6161bd326fa851d15a22ec 330468
00049.jpg
G50 J50 b043a32971fb8c96b90565e44660a25c 318604
00050.jpg
G51 J51 40da84273a6fb712be1e0aaf5b68e0ea 319128
00051.jpg
G52 J52 30c9aae71103612c40595e05dabb5b5f 302728
00052.jpg
G53 J53 8c62b4bd56e6471dd8082fae6461b1ed 344881
00053.jpg
G54 J54 8c6b59ca8abdab96dbef448b20973af4 285208
00054.jpg
G55 J55 47701e1157651ae2a32427abb79497c8 345587
00055.jpg
G56 J56 dcb274c22498207e5c6b9ef75249d8b2 274477
00056.jpg
G57 J57 ac04fbf1b6ebb1231534ef7292075e92 317560
00057.jpg
G58 J58 2494385c4774160279d08009b2e6d10e 226655
00058.jpg
G59 J59 676bad8fb4b80ceeeddf034e7873c745 287722
00059.jpg
G60 J60 0788175ba9a3a6b882725c449aeaf0e5 286718
00060.jpg
G61 J61 e61782c1ac2bcf71fc3916c437d4bad3 271235
00061.jpg
G62 J62 e34cdc4619d4651e56d2939a51456dd4 346089
00062.jpg
G63 J63 0ca72cd41795c6e08be7a15b3b74a365 317933
00063.jpg
G64 J64 c6043d1504b03a66bd50fe3d0bb92a0e 305241
00064.jpg
G65 J65 054c41a5542172efeb5c4cff500d818b 202047
00065.jpg
G66 J66 f02ec61e3f0c2a2537b968073694426d 283724
00066.jpg
G67 J67 d2eddf5593a63d518615f84747c05868 345427
00067.jpg
G68 J68 a80423f6dff00a8a183324f67029e485 320474
00068.jpg
G69 J69 3788987bd25b40b4e89afb7b270b2a60 193320
00069.jpg
G70 J70 8bf121e2ce48b0f1329bf09d62ad7cd4 332491
00070.jpg
G71 J71 677e7ad5e8c256f612642fb43480af6b 268583
00071.jpg
G72 J72 91d8bbec7f5f2ea9c2a3092db4b3f42c 360927
00072.jpg
G73 J73 e651db79d1105f4d62dba0e352255821 237484
00073.jpg
G74 J74 05249ac7fc86481cb68b1b8cece2d29e 305258
00074.jpg
G75 J75 260314dfe551984586a31f4d623f955e 344901
00075.jpg
G76 J76 e4806b145f22d2a39dbf6a349a34d9ce 341905
00076.jpg
G77 J77 066fe325425c8ef3fff3e4d5a3a3a022 276776
00077.jpg
G78 J78 a550e4c9b26dbaae9005e32de89f857a 338762
00078.jpg
G79 J79 0bbc89e8efd4f54b11406491dbff5a0c 305180
00079.jpg
G80 J80 8ac9d077aafc739a688ec98ec777ffc4 333837
00080.jpg
G81 J81 5ab051ebb33212d5717b8fa0c73e907c 287728
00081.jpg
G82 J82 b345b8690c316386f8dac738ebfd8c9c 246101
00082.jpg
G83 J83 e46cccb135b0211476b48f686f18a722 274731
00083.jpg
G85 J85 04cc2f89dc8ea690e803b71d2a96049f 161958
00085.jpg
G86 J86 e38cc5ace7c629c72a7fba53369c2975 476523
00086.jpg
G87 J87 6166ad185f34ee396d07ffcc269ec7fb 164548
00087.jpg
E1 imagejp2 5a2224c07c43fafd955b1d48804fce03 754431
00001.jp2
E2 2cc08bcb74f9cb59ddebfa1cb127121e 774823
00002.jp2
E3 608a0b1afd4222a6e6c473e73cf0e407 646063
00003.jp2
E4 cb2fccced9c85fab4cd4097a6da77039 646194
00004.jp2
E5 60078047078c4f45f70cc94bae1ee1f2 646196
00005.jp2
E6 e2cf457b8e3fafcd874753b9122bec60 646120
00006.jp2
E7 29c7faa71d33ff312e6787a9df0ae993 646137
00007.jp2
E8 5a86f38c54a90659267fd7b725d7120b 646198
00008.jp2
E9 3641f390da99e93d4428d4924d48c43b 645804
00009.jp2
E10 7438005ba89c6221ffe61d2049bb3419 646127
00010.jp2
E11 32a0397865add5a4bf05faf2942d6be0 645840
00011.jp2
E12 e0d80ff3123f481ebaaf309d3c96bda5 646183
00012.jp2
E13 cd6c31ad5c7feec526e1d31be25b3dd2 645831
00013.jp2
E14 c81fbf41ccc1eeaa605948d7e4ff2a39 646199
00014.jp2
E17 4d202a79aebdd67292ed5c529b035d0b 646008
00017.jp2
E18 ed67212b090e8f1b33f6427ca39b30a2 646195
00018.jp2
E19 15c324e37160472e676095a5927bfb34
00019.jp2
E20 8fc8914791dee9fd141b8d15d1205cf3 646121
00020.jp2
E21 a8ee78aab6d20ccb8994e19c6e33bc59 645766
00021.jp2
E22 f6af3dcfac87aaa15b7c94d6988a42c0 646001
00022.jp2
E23 2f20e9a6e94a09439d64ac8411fb9338 645833
00023.jp2
E24 af89cefa90366aebfd2e896c6caac672 646143
00024.jp2
E25 00c77dc0b5d9a569124183c0489ed617 646201
00025.jp2
E26 f7be8079543e1c6fa7cda26ae8abab6b 646109
00026.jp2
E27 6710110ae5a8526fb07555d71ab1b47e
00027.jp2
E28 e5277bb20c6400b9a16c94160d7d596e
00028.jp2
E29 0293a9358d71fb41271a2d39b00c8a48 646071
00029.jp2
E30 6693164bbf6ef0d5a956f244d12fcc61
00030.jp2
E31 125cdbf04e2d70df7aecd7df7f4c6c64 646068
00031.jp2
E32 0f7555698c8168141ece09953f1f1444 646090
00032.jp2
E33 e92d04fa7a394ec334b2171d2e257618 646163
00033.jp2
E34 496acc6f8ab707076f4630868ec6bf57
00034.jp2
E35 b7315a4d94fd551d5ec2abc824a608f0
00035.jp2
E36 b2145dd644919d8f81cb8db29b468e24 645994
00036.jp2
E37 26faea1b407fc7e3c3b628561c756c24
00037.jp2
E38 f7f3b59277cfd5ac5d04ec67b5733662 646165
00038.jp2
E39 3d45a1779e656e2199eabd04bda18575 646176
00039.jp2
E40 2219ad8673d2d3a813362d3a72796900 646189
00040.jp2
E41 455e96a3025454c6f78ce843a6d956b1 646061
00041.jp2
E42 b388ad4efb05602a06425348359fb06e 646156
00042.jp2
E43 41c462ae2147457d438bc4f3b0f220fd 646173
00043.jp2
E44 616010030504242d451a2f2638d57eaa 646190
00044.jp2
E45 ddbb7bcbbdd36a811f3ac607ed33e1ef
00045.jp2
E46 b50ebb091f76ce8169b2c2ef7d6cb7a4 646174
00046.jp2
E47 ccfb4a094fda484d2125eccd536021e1 646187
00047.jp2
E48 b16eaad8a0efdc6dcd01721e206432ad 646140
00048.jp2
E49 b47e43b5f9c215cf88c91fb436cf8024 646141
00049.jp2
E50 5e3deb6b05f12d767b78749b24ce7993 646128
00050.jp2
E51 1c8d809f636ef7463b297c516ebd28e3 646093
00051.jp2
E52 c21a97998be2fb22101d1067aca56c6a 646178
00052.jp2
E53 b722cd2678f8d6f91dc7bb41d9cd4e02 645772
00053.jp2
E54 bd74c8f697fb159d470e8ae0ca73cc04
00054.jp2
E55 95d466c3fb0b59461ba3f9b6ee46e579 645780
00055.jp2
E56 3491f8a37f307c840b2e36049079519e
00056.jp2
E57 f597a55c006849b2661069f06443fa65 645821
00057.jp2
E58 5abfc64f4dfbf5e731ee9ec7ee16b626 646197
00058.jp2
E59 109af9c8e4b0e17c92399e8d8359c7d4 646155
00059.jp2
E60 45f67abce40aed4cfc25494365fcc3b3
00060.jp2
E61 609c0d868df171e9fc1f4a668c29b33f
00061.jp2
E62 2c42a7e95867bae985bb4445e64afd14
00062.jp2
E63 5a5f0728729384dc14dd0964c44ca413 646157
00063.jp2
E64 04725c45698cb375367c5856b006b90f 646180
00064.jp2
E65 412f424d649cd1947eaf0a0f3432a4ef
00065.jp2
E66 43a633e445cbca2663aed135e25ec6ec
00066.jp2
E67 fc8b726eb78ff62a084af0bca7761025
00067.jp2
E68 d68995b45cdbafe2928f28e325d9a0d8
00068.jp2
E69 68d20e756f2ed20999de7a0ca26eb477
00069.jp2
E70 8283c2197e6f3cc5d9e6a77968307bf7 646193
00070.jp2
E71 b9ff6c799478da14874b0a05a317033b 646200
00071.jp2
E72 455207b7ceb5b7b9ae7cc10f588d3822 646184
00072.jp2
E73 26c4665a71d7fa3949a628c629580940 646188
00073.jp2
E74 a67874ead54c2ad9bf6a4201f74a1db0 646166
00074.jp2
E75 85081a7e14b12bade0c249e05cdcd432
00075.jp2
E76 43259a59337cc24b37ab8a8a361635d8
00076.jp2
E77 da62728b7df49b10d18c8a1dfe4cf4bb 646161
00077.jp2
E78 f91e5b91823bfbbf8b4791a60028bf0a 646172
00078.jp2
E79 aa818e8592aae10bf54da5c26881b3b7
00079.jp2
E80 fb1d2da80457d8f33ca1cdd0f5ebd156 646169
00080.jp2
E81 cb9aec8611b47a8945cadab7a057c6ae
00081.jp2
E82 ba7e6a7dcf17f2d724c7664d66db3f2a
00082.jp2
E83 3b904c6d759d75ef0a4cac2de40e4379 646149
00083.jp2
E85 0fcfefc35d4aee4172a0efa9cac0e241 744948
00085.jp2
E86 a8d368df5ba391a8c1975f467ad08ce3 770061
00086.jp2
E87 84de511e5f7934ad590d7e126e6fcea9 156215
00087.jp2
F1 imagetiff 6.0 5506dffa2857912722fb7ddec6d85995 18128472
00001.tif
F2 68ef6b48f233242d179d54b49cfb1b44 18612860
00002.tif
F3 5bbc57b3285b1737c78c2a7cb8043207 5192452
00003.tif
F4 e83fcb42739d9eb925af36f8d5058de7 5192588
00004.tif
F5 f153d4c5a3c6b3911c5883471ecca02f 5193264
00005.tif
F6 f9a660bb0d01e54a7f61a66fb554da87 5193928
00006.tif
F7 ac7482f68bc1c2d7b5aba03e9ca9e0c1 5193164
00007.tif
F8 9917336367f0422e95e61939e94a53d8 5192632
00008.tif
F9 1484cad6405bf3b1c1d3a085d6d41660 5191268
00009.tif
F10 c7f7c13de91e49e5ecbf821dd631fca8 5193480
00010.tif
F11 c6ea075822be94aee63796cf00ba49f7 5190504
00011.tif
F12 ee6c926b63ad8d25bfba5b98979a960b 5192364
00012.tif
F13 b671bf0d259cb361cf4b55116f9340a5 5188644
00013.tif
F14 35b11adf04cfceee44b3938f9244c40c 5191804
00014.tif
F17 8594023b259ba0dc5febf6161a9950aa 5192244
00017.tif
F18 0d8418ce3b265255c4410af114060f83 5192472
00018.tif
F19 03c1c0f8bf0b3b6742af0c4fb67a7db7 5191564
00019.tif
F20 f3e42a0fb2204483591df6474a4b8953 5192720
00020.tif
F21 1ec47a8eb9cd40fc326b688031383265 5190216
00021.tif
F22 0958560766172c3fd875a6d720228775 5192948
00022.tif
F23 119b7757343d90b11bb5176f6da5475f 5189924
00023.tif
F24 3966e42fe728fb154e734b8a1ad3334c 5190620
00024.tif
F25 d691ed6121ba0a0fc32c49da52028d95 5192796
00025.tif
F26 9f8b309309c47bf26714dcfc1f76afec 5192648
00026.tif
F27 89baea33528cbbbe6dfa9cee224e7447 5192772
00027.tif
F28 32070330e26dd4b0baffc65330cd04f4 5191904
00028.tif
F29 865ae62acc2f898267084ba9ba470204 5192812
00029.tif
F30 aaac16ebfbe57dfec7bf108b26db020c 5192680
00030.tif
F31 6cae90e2362831e12c939620177494e5 5192740
00031.tif
F32 2133bd8ee57365983931184cc6501f56 5192828
00032.tif
F33 2cd016cb34a0c02878e91e6d290a5916
00033.tif
F34 ceda54ef5dfed55b0f338c02433e593e 5192628
00034.tif
F35 7c6323e1d1cb7d676709b79bf42d7045 5192660
00035.tif
F36 b01f4d7716d9f06bf70c8c79fc03870d 5192584
00036.tif
F37 2e8ae8e841ff2c6d3d8836ffc2a31ce0 5192624
00037.tif
F38 52df4bc6d4e4e7ecc6d73c5565cdf16b
00038.tif
F39 ab819452e1f33fa2237af8e3669ae5c9 5192840
00039.tif
F40 b732861f6bdbad7d361db14656fedf62 5192276
00040.tif
F41 5c1a33f2e3bc6086d076326e8893226e 5191428
00041.tif
F42 fbb52bc236b072de3d094ee7f39a901f 5193068
00042.tif
F43 579c8fff241dbcf67f7ed0f5807ae59d 5192756
00043.tif
F44 af0f045b703378a4bfbc5fc2f8eda1c4 5191956
00044.tif
F45 c9f343fb574a46e583c1c2b38e62ae5e 5189452
00045.tif
F46 e4203db38af3e901156139183665d62c 5192136
00046.tif
F47 c32399b0d2cb4606c203bc00c38ad7d0 5192516
00047.tif
F48 af7dd10eb10c0400ea8c3bc8764046bb
00048.tif
F49 d5d7625bdb91f9c21db102a246c4c925
00049.tif
F50 f72d8cac68153cabacabfa5439dac289 5192768
00050.tif
F51 baa1bc2bc85b00c340e1d62d55e5a5f0 5192320
00051.tif
F52 3c7ca7fe62be073aafdb5d4cf0cfd463 5192316
00052.tif
F53 d2b6ef8dead3b6c1543915dc5033ae11 5190004
00053.tif
F54 215164d48b243b89f01d0597c734c0fa 5192376
00054.tif
F55 50e35927940b9dd4c71aac6ef996b1f6 5189892
00055.tif
F56 a9812a9763c472c0af047a9cc2f657c5 5192096
00056.tif
F57 9715f153fc7657947dcc324e97926025
00057.tif
F58 f59168830a3bd11b50b19b2d6e91ce72 5190884
00058.tif
F59 5f81e12b7b62e717f743f85e55f6c370 5192580
00059.tif
F60 9b8b0923f735f9673896d318437b06c7 5192012
00060.tif
F61 3570198db55728f8e488ce9db882ae31 5192076
00061.tif
F62 3c659352f44c2754e14031f9f888ff17 5192548
00062.tif
F63 f71a56c63eac148475c0697062df1947 5193140
00063.tif
F64 d26bf9d53e92d575dddca8bbef0a289f 5192404
00064.tif
F65 25427f7ce3032d47010e138a3633ff71 5191328
00065.tif
F66 2c901dfcb19902435cac9cd614ec1208 5192064
00066.tif
F67 ec252f8880cdb0dcff95812dbde92cf3 5193560
00067.tif
F68 33aea3968e3b59231f2efd0e911d4343 5193904
00068.tif
F69 2619887d027fe26fc37216a83e0882e8 5191928
00069.tif
F70 2e047b15f00e5a7876a4cf546d3b6e58 5192668
00070.tif
F71 718bb76d85dcc1b491fed08a9f3005ee 5193080
00071.tif
F72 7f6bdcdb4082810bcb929b1e55b616c9 5192968
00072.tif
F73 59ab85efda7cce6a98a64079cab9a9ba 5192568
00073.tif
F74 817e7db36d6cf5ff85dc9aa1fd003168 5192256
00074.tif
F75 4173c6a43bab5126cd986c8242b15470 5193204
00075.tif
F76 17d9f534133acf443c869ccd8c4f8aef 5192880
00076.tif
F77 aacbf0cee9703d6de1a192851fd5e124 5191824
00077.tif
F78 52c05961351e1d07f6b97146698d2e08 5192240
00078.tif
F79 6775a96c56e43e7cd32f57c42e79b997 5192088
00079.tif
F80 e916be1ad321e7aa42363b3c95787dac 5192820
00080.tif
F81 325e7c1c80630deb06a6d6b012563157 5191764
00081.tif
F82 6372c9624c1fefab7a76ff212a8ae635 5191700
00082.tif
F83 32065a91c1d53afd020988ad3c600f0b 5192872
00083.tif
F85 a634897a3b3abd011ec4458440324c06 17895408
00085.tif
F86 47f1bed5ac3aa3d4de28360a49e8bfca 18500240
00086.tif
F87 5e89eb16f5a24abc8ce817299683b5fd 3767448
00087.tif
T3 textplain 62fb874c294a933e0c2894f7c2f221ad 1113
00003.txt
T4 0b13a2a1c568fa5eaf979c6f85575479 2225
00004.txt
T5 86e3bff52fbe2de1d74dacf39da3ad63 2231
00005.txt
T6 d1de361ed4b3857638208bf2500a35f9 1727
00006.txt
T7 820eda53227329f139c11a8d3be071c2 4077
00007.txt
T8 30060511e5fbc06ab85b3e1b19397964 2672
00008.txt
T9 47f4ac1f1442da10bf2e04b96070f5f2 4561
00009.txt
T10 786a1f78a953633c1c28820500745a2f 1126
00010.txt
T11 e230e7371a77667f6702d6729dcefff9 3039
00011.txt
T12 bd79793b82636b759ac3f12fe2d35b32 5331
00012.txt
T13 558f0bbb7ed5679f76510c9a9ab05e97 1480
00013.txt
T14 58d49c552c986930d8d57a540f303e04 2210
00014.txt
T17 25078bc4f4b75c8e22bc2f4e1aa1dfce 4942
00017.txt
T18 7134128b8a7da49596f075285aa1c7a0 5368
00018.txt
T19 2cc7bb90bfe831696c8933179daf35c8 2788
00019.txt
T20 67b2fd082282de849db883ddfad87302 2929
00020.txt
T21 9b85e71e34a18ca218b68e3487dbbc92 5641
00021.txt
T22 9538cd2b7b413b0f2f7fec02f1f3e25c 1820
00022.txt
T23 77ae809973ee9d71aec3e084aeda43e6 5006
00023.txt
T24 3dd013cf93ad8613b0190314b90a2307 978
00024.txt
T25 cbe41b4cf1238b1b8880603c9d8ebbd3 4051
00025.txt
T26 eaa2eeaa8ec576136ac7113bf3ae1db0 5305
00026.txt
T27 fbc34d84560054ad78656db0bc55bd39 2328
00027.txt
T28 d63d9d7d307d1ebe1a1e76cf3428531b 4339
00028.txt
T29 ed20ba8ed5895638014ef3bd43982fa4 5536
00029.txt
T30 41ce642183a62d1169987a9125ea51b2 4618
00030.txt
T31 5291941ec9b4596f425ba152caaa60a5 5634
00031.txt
T32 a2feb13fb41aea4004f43f647664cf94 3540
00032.txt
T33 afb255ad0b140479bd491d87e110acf0 3888
00033.txt
T34 1576544f683734f41ba871467b7f2f59 5783
00034.txt
T35 bfb81a0d10509f89d545b41403d2cf91 5468
00035.txt
T36 92cc11e762899710c61ccb3f0074e7a5 1306
00036.txt
T37 171a930be87ecb1d9c1acd2a13576d33 2985
00037.txt
T38 3e3d499a76654d4c5d686351cac79f77 4922
00038.txt
T39 6b3b8298b35b8038cb33060234c729f0 3365
00039.txt
T40 4f21469c0d0a4f626c2f58fe2738e7d2 4771
00040.txt
T41 c8c59aab4b4f8b3213424300a935446f 1677
00041.txt
T42 51c9497eb6c999ca4f9969608c46580c 3009
00042.txt
T43 241f11e9cf8f82f68fdd4be1c5a6e7b0 5696
00043.txt
T44 c66a63917ed072842541db38bbd3b00e 3621
00044.txt
T45 f66a65123394179618f6c3d8fe4e34ab 3281
00045.txt
T46 60a8fc2ad6dd1ec7c9a3eb22e0f025c9 3139
00046.txt
T47 86eca3b012edbfb015ca5e5e5de526b9 2989
00047.txt
T48 3155587adf0539f2357f872c48af4485 2065
00048.txt
T49 c51c1a59f49489c5900149cd45c62bce 5155
00049.txt
T50 b1c78cf29596f63bc1e5316e168c9378 3957
00050.txt
T51 a2b776b2aef317785ee97dc73a4ca71b 3399
00051.txt
T52 d91373938d849d2b2b4331e2f4f5aa25 3594
00052.txt
T53 2dddc87a94c480b46a85ef0be956dcf7 5457
00053.txt
T54 14e68a9ba30de9c381271f226a91c91e 1074
00054.txt
T55 7fa21a66471965761adf729636aa7bf5 5588
00055.txt
T56 614ce643b28e27f540b032bb451a36cc 3288
00056.txt
T57 1ccba2dbb2b6212b8b68cf76e75c2b53 4376
00057.txt
T58 1b337f137a374a6008f5d0b316310597 3280
00058.txt
T59 f862f1479524e91b1bde3f0a06bee720 520
00059.txt
T60 93f8ec07387004647f420828a09e5a37 4185
00060.txt
T61 e5a03095c952f3efb2a6d813613a1507 3984
00061.txt
T62 46558b99fb85194a0188fe6a93607766 5493
00062.txt
T63 50632514d22a68542fc1778e2e575bdd 2777
00063.txt
T64 92ee6157fdd11b6812c5dd0a9d434cfd 4329
00064.txt
T65 5ae3bd5358e5551062f3199e2f0b7dda 1559
00065.txt
T66 307cedd107c71135c7beb3142afb397f 1261
00066.txt
T67 bae2854d32622f73151972695db940dd 1121
00067.txt
T68 5bede72ded90e11409b88ed583481d07 1270
00068.txt
T69 2b42f6fb3fc8b80dec80adc3126b9dc6 1784
00069.txt
T70 cf7cefadd86e79199a20895ea9a482c8 4986
00070.txt
T71 650e1c22bccf2222be3566bc74cc521b 135
00071.txt
T72 6118a90e254cfa011d98c5713f13ed7e 5520
00072.txt
T73 1dc12d2f564b0ce6193987305674c989 321
00073.txt
T74 e64323aa7e09b87af2b47ac5d0730910 4681
00074.txt
T75 202c644e76df8c181543dde1cd46c550 4765
00075.txt
T76 020dabc6c171731494b6423cbda79e71 5984
00076.txt
T77 3986c3c646d94b878f8a6d2b3539502f 7946
00077.txt
T78 3d05570bbdf26665b68d94c8c220daff 10732
00078.txt
T79 affc8249e77a4c201c27b38acb7f18ff 8830
00079.txt
T80 15abba63a084bcfd7db1bb6987fc3a2b 7242
00080.txt
T81 f454049d844d99b7ac5a83973435d99a 8319
00081.txt
T82 cb34109fdf812f83dc2140bca5fc3d38 5182
00082.txt
T83 b969c5258ed5daaf5fb3506d2799d829 3563
00083.txt
J999999 3ef2f36fe9ed792237062a0ebcd7e3d3 50619
00001thm.jpg
AR1 a923e4976c710460b5998ed3613297a1 129721
00001.QC.jpg
AR2 8852f1e8ee500aff3ca0cd9656a43b04 40523
00002.QC.jpg
AR3 textx-pro bea640ce58908605960ea09954e860ae 18162
00003.pro
AR4 9906c230fc1244e6c8404c26765d1cc8 89270
00003.QC.jpg
AR5 92c3ddb7aed369bc7f024fc2ba03f5f0 51723
00004.pro
AR6 53a99914a9696c92222ee6fa5b4494c4 86180
00004.QC.jpg
AR7 7debeb409a8fcbb16f1de956c2d364a1 54669
00005.pro
AR8 f50e85bc6e18c4ef1c9edc6bcf87da2b 100752
00005.QC.jpg
AR9 848cf66460649b3e4bd0ffdd036a549a 41464
00006.pro
AR10 73149e57c16d83e94e054ad74d5ff662 109808
00006.QC.jpg
AR11 a81ffd70921a7c2e68cc2bb18495c187 81097
00007.pro
AR12 ad42610e27acc90011de8f7054f78150 104469
00007.QC.jpg
AR13 a96b69631d9fed21b21ea7263a9b1044 60371
00008.pro
AR14 55d453cedac4f88fc9f1478609688218 93356
00008.QC.jpg
AR15 f0ac50256284a6acce735996ec76b156 90387
00009.pro
AR16 916943d916e992455233584bd835a96c 106189
00009.QC.jpg
AR17 ae5927ed54a5412cafe2dee7030a53a0 26960
00010.pro
AR18 d1b391425515f4b79c2bfb88ffa17f42 98731
00010.QC.jpg
AR19 6f0e075c17a33f0110d03668c63c4420 72304
00011.pro
AR20 7dc49d8113b77964b6afdf8b3770ed39 99990
00011.QC.jpg
AR21 6a3d1ca5c0fec9f7a9136a1603badb94 128660
00012.pro
AR22 ae15d2fa39cd08513b7523688b0b4439 98938
00012.QC.jpg
AR23 434642a5ce886b28fca85f839aee2372 25016
00013.pro
AR24 07823a0c845ce9532cb09083f4914785 80976
00013.QC.jpg
AR25 d1bac02472f7be9054bf84cc4ed147d2 44658
00014.pro
AR26 e0e9c68c1953a8d17092784ddbfb0523 83427
00014.QC.jpg
AR27 494000a1125c32ab1a0dcf96b08d9efb 120285
00017.pro
AR28 a51cd77cb02d1f37e0a56a091a5d8abc 95297
00017.QC.jpg
AR29 3261d56d38932b65af29263bab40ef5d 129834
00018.pro
AR30 1e5cfee5c79f0c611dde12739a02681a 99533
00018.QC.jpg
AR31 839e394b10ce45ef4e94a24ea794dd51 63879
00019.pro
AR32 9d07aa0163bac7209efe517d34bd48a0 79645
00019.QC.jpg
AR33 8b25bbfc6feba05931b2b79feb7618dd 68794
00020.pro
AR34 2bb2d2329d477087b085e01ff1723c31 94723
00020.QC.jpg
AR35 d089bb894be4c0a90a9d5261a4eda044 137166
00021.pro
AR36 df4425a89ddd8ded798ea9e2f8cb7e3f 104786
00021.QC.jpg
AR37 85610710f2a752790aac1bec9b7fe366 42460
00022.pro
AR38 d8a878eb1e38611319ff8e80b2bd22e0 95383
00022.QC.jpg
AR39 ca53db7815baa0bd2447979dbcc3db0c 121600
00023.pro
AR40 09249463ef8e55a72c995a2860396ce6 98179
00023.QC.jpg
AR41 4a32d5482a67baecdbb19aafe9501757 19220
00024.pro
AR42 971f31cbb0b91514b4bd67d9c362bf23 60985
00024.QC.jpg
AR43 85ff02a59e760796d7c4d8a4f321951c 97131
00025.pro
AR44 af54766b1a3e587c99d1f8b9bb153a9f 98652
00025.QC.jpg
AR45 6960d6f1800c93f4e73ae26f753f7c65 128296
00026.pro
AR46 97282cd0f10e0f6e45d5bcdf9a6be8e8 102887
00026.QC.jpg
AR47 baf645bd10da4b5d2d7addcf7d1a3237 55203
00027.pro
AR48 d0462f8536bf557c521190a4382244f6 94350
00027.QC.jpg
AR49 5450c21a81cbebe1199033473ae86744 103887
00028.pro
AR50 d0bc9b43997c684dd76ca9fc105eb368 87161
00028.QC.jpg
AR51 e98e9e5b70ce97a961cec9bbf5774a05 134968
00029.pro
AR52 bc27a041395b395345dfd02bba680071 103566
00029.QC.jpg
AR53 a38adfa3dd8afd6adee619b81a638da6 110733
00030.pro
AR54 4695054799da08f2939320882f68c0fa 98423
00030.QC.jpg
AR55 26882685ba3dc486f1d5008141ed51da 138044
00031.pro
AR56 b1f1846a762a9d76471aac22eed84ee6 101427
00031.QC.jpg
AR57 cab382c125d2d2fbbb6a28c6b743d746 79576
00032.pro
AR58 29b42bb7fa89d3acf0e209bfcbb8c4c7 97457
00032.QC.jpg
AR59 f96d5b491b269803c55d60dcfd12810a 85715
00033.pro
AR60 d310d7c5462677b94575de8e823901be 99121
00033.QC.jpg
AR61 1da1367a7fa30a7743020aa3f99a3469 139766
00034.pro
AR62 dcf61bea942529e508fbd449a13ee809 101572
00034.QC.jpg
AR63 88e721f069201b9f075c310edc142e50 132638
00035.pro
AR64 535615926525c9a7f0c05c1d3dcef9d8 103535
00035.QC.jpg
AR65 662743416714e2e0b02450fefabe14d0 25243
00036.pro
AR66 8aec41f573bc6f21c19f97aedbdc57b4 92215
00036.QC.jpg
AR67 45396472069ad4fefee2692781482c0e 72010
00037.pro
AR68 64c7e86849b5dc006e738f01d68376d7 94195
00037.QC.jpg
AR69 820ccaa41c1b80631adbc0ca69f86db1 117923
00038.pro
AR70 a3b71f06a758ac324cba2aad6f71061d 99942
00038.QC.jpg
AR71 eaff3b0df1d988d7cb1b78b7f69badba 74126
00039.pro
AR72 70337c9394de35b74ff2d8827679668b 98231
00039.QC.jpg
AR73 a0ccf20c81119ac56c2c6cd8a9087a6d 114738
00040.pro
AR74 fe5677c6bdf3fdf5a8e3c13906412a0a 95360
00040.QC.jpg
AR75 77b7abcab5d335126f237ad23928b870 39126
00041.pro
AR76 1c73ae564d6874049778db72d3e6f175 77781
00041.QC.jpg
AR77 674505718053fa4a4c9c39bea2587fef 69103
00042.pro
AR78 0dcc61aba98b2da243d439b9d1b9b441 98365
00042.QC.jpg
AR79 120456c6db481f15df565e1055be847a 74503
00043.pro
AR80 06a581a2704edc26c0cc911bb3243ffd 92346
00043.QC.jpg
AR81 1c6e3bf8b42db32dac59fe63942625da 85677
00044.pro
AR82 6e8245bc855fb35322fcdda8ea455e13 89400
00044.QC.jpg
AR83 b966dc05cdf34981878225558a2cf5a3 78323
00045.pro
AR84 3c02c93c400293a44e8c445cd7a6e1fc 86629
00045.QC.jpg
AR85 58354206540b50b9c56bca18a88eb0e7 75582
00046.pro
AR86 38737fc070474cf7e1b6cdfd606df1f9 86790
00046.QC.jpg
AR87 d86cdef6783bd84314768652fd0e3569 53757
00047.pro
AR88 71f53c10451520c08c9df1dd686f16f9 88703
00047.QC.jpg
AR89 9ca2aa1f1a6f44134ad5a811b43567ad 50048
00048.pro
AR90 58cb59610950c42aaa82e62a6b129cb5 85166
00048.QC.jpg
AR91 4d3148e2d62395b8e9919350405945fc 123931
00049.pro
AR92 fac9658beff891335f24748a3ba3c7c7 98617
00049.QC.jpg
AR93 4214abce1a76acea893eb6797a480661 94338
00050.pro
AR94 f7774d88c56ce3e1d31d48cb8e3a7c58 97494
00050.QC.jpg
AR95 9a1b6bbb575c6c9bc142ba96d281dfbc 67763
00051.pro
AR96 249e0b4fa32aba2e113c69551cb5f641 93428
00051.QC.jpg
AR97 69d2be7e7cf08ae660fac16b6252cbad 83263
00052.pro
AR98 685e4548afe0074c45775809ad9214fe 91612
00052.QC.jpg
AR99 c2dcd47ec45605e7ca29907d60fb15e3 130770
00053.pro
AR100 fb392f6c54b8068081c2fb90c2cabf52 101108
00053.QC.jpg
AR101 0df204ca149432575ce454dac6dbcc5f 25642
00054.pro
AR102 599f57131e759d85f12a45471d4270fb 86870
00054.QC.jpg
AR103 3eeff42b74140940a858dbb7bc22d483 134823
00055.pro
AR104 4f800bdfc99175241520cc695bcc0fc9 100873
00055.QC.jpg
AR105 d6533f222ba99431be753ff070bea604 79077
00056.pro
AR106 40a5a90ba76db61811d90eb67ec5cdcf 87299
00056.QC.jpg
AR107 ad670efc71ec1821d3f195f221bb16da 105952
00057.pro
AR108 902260808b1651880072b84e9ee08e8e 97231
00057.QC.jpg
AR109 be60fbb85b6f7da697f7867f919c3ca0 77803
00058.pro
AR110 364c2bb489558f4de42c88c5b9b57c2e 72562
00058.QC.jpg
AR111 49c64854c8a3f6de7b6a4b961687aed1 11441
00059.pro
AR112 ec02debf1202840ba37221ac403f3491 87086
00059.QC.jpg
AR113 74f493233bebfbca63fe6e931c77eda7 91753
00060.pro
AR114 7f250bff941b42d8bc4f91b3f8e37d7c 90142
00060.QC.jpg
AR115 e483cb4c0f48f574078780e5e8cd81aa 95703
00061.pro
AR116 1a6434acb09356d4aecb063918bdd92f 86154
00061.QC.jpg
AR117 1a744852a22fe08b72ab70d42b616ba5 132626
00062.pro
AR118 23e00a8f53e183961b0bcfadef6f0d6b 100074
00062.QC.jpg
AR119 a3209c51ff5328d003c07c66afa19e02 63166
00063.pro
AR120 0b44ad8f28e87557a75344862d8a6751 97683
00063.QC.jpg
AR121 29242d62a4975033c0538a2c737a30f8 98685
00064.pro
AR122 36cb63fc7c4c9757adc0deadefec3d9b 93652
00064.QC.jpg
AR123 62b7321906f21595d73c6b361fe45eef 33980
00065.pro
AR124 c60e4754a16db4672c9f9749ed0c1676 71282
00065.QC.jpg
AR125 b95380755b463696013fcd60b3d2b1d9 26798
00066.pro
AR126 ef7bc2adeaf1ea75bd9035c884eb790b 85582
00066.QC.jpg
AR127 1d1e23ee63d746a42d424a1b269de2c2 27252
00067.pro
AR128 531c7918d758c8d2a7203ce511026785 102509
00067.QC.jpg
AR129 0a1f107394a016555bf5bb4dbd6bf112 30949
00068.pro
AR130 14f22f9cf8df640d8487462b84ee47a7 101534
00068.QC.jpg
AR131 9d88c4f6f411f1678a417ad8a036fb22 25140
00069.pro
AR132 5bb0f18b08a3dec20746e52953925e12 74609
00069.QC.jpg
AR133 631738d6b906dc33dd0720b52eb43545 120492
00070.pro
AR134 af421157bc32a75ae97b4a500dda3790 98940
00070.QC.jpg
AR135 1a165e271b8fd52dea1c96fe83628d4a 2096
00071.pro
AR136 e0012db8c93a62e7cb8389cdc9f48b46 88493
00071.QC.jpg
AR137 a735e97a04ef8c01d5836bbe08b8b2be 134244
00072.pro
AR138 d62e0d23fd20e196660a40d2574f6534 105687
00072.QC.jpg
AR139 611ce57b3999188d1143b9198520d49c 2886
00073.pro
AR140 b951db93ece07b8865f846a1612a722a 81971
00073.QC.jpg
AR141 09dbcdbf5bd008e385fe4ea4ea44e785 112461
00074.pro
AR142 5fe4bd182f71460c2f852629501d0b40 92706
00074.QC.jpg
AR143 4736fa6e2330a012d80ebfe3e0005465 113918
00075.pro
AR144 c9137b7466f9a2bfc0ff3dfae635ab29 102895
00075.QC.jpg
AR145 fd02dffd3049fd7509845e93baf09182 140846
00076.pro
AR146 f5f65b80955f1a465286ccfefbeaf31e 100961
00076.QC.jpg
AR147 d6c84dffd3700a54a04c21cc5c6a9b2b 179961
00077.pro
AR148 73a8e4f2453489eb0405cbffd97bc617 86117
00077.QC.jpg
AR149 70d8bee1a2088e0c07fa511974da51a1 245534
00078.pro
AR150 2afe3dcde415632bbe9577cf8dc5b889 97338
00078.QC.jpg
AR151 8db8a65582239bc0a2ae7780a066a69e 206148
00079.pro
AR152 6f4c6979f9abdf724ffb3dbb630be2ee 91220
00079.QC.jpg
AR153 7c2f91c0f5db09bd9a3ad170662532a1 175402
00080.pro
AR154 2681919bd092524a14768f8616ae08bc 98593
00080.QC.jpg
AR155 41c4789e85a82ace41638d26b4c870b5 192053
00081.pro
AR156 5ad7843056467f477e6230db4cb63c2b 87674
00081.QC.jpg
AR157 375bf4d6309bee918c61b03d25b9ea3a 111853
00082.pro
AR158 fe28ee1016255140ca101a975716d0a0 80209
00082.QC.jpg
AR159 14a0b59fb4a2282433410e5bb3e706cb 77874
00083.pro
AR160 3b9a742a5ebba0bbf05a08dbe8a61aa0 91995
00083.QC.jpg
AR161 88a6ea54cb59ed0fd2a24c12e01a201e 37903
00085.QC.jpg
AR162 bb60c10bab015f246f53d4baa7ddd66e 79288
00086.QC.jpg
AR163 78a165d6da8a4854a0b96d7f00a2a6ef 47246
00087.QC.jpg
AR164 42355f73701a5147307a18900d209983 40
processing.instr
AR165 31d5b0d9ff84e6334fad9fce9c0a5c60 121424
UF00065513_00171.mets
METS:structMap STRUCT1 mixed
METS:div DMDID ORDER 0 main
D1 Front Cover
P1 Page
METS:fptr FILEID
P2
D2 Frontispiece
P3 482
D3 When Shakspere was a boy 3 Chapter
P4 483
P5 484
P6 485
P7 486 4
P8 487 5
P9 488 6
P10 489
P11 490 8
P12 491 9
D4 May song Poem
P13 492
P14 493
D5 The girls' tricycle club and its run down the cape
P17 494
P18 495
P19 496
P20 497
P21 498
P22 499
P23 500
D6 Morning-glories
P24 501
D7 Little lord Fauntleroy
P25 502
P26 503
P27 504
D8 George Washington
P28 505
P29 506
P30 507
P31 508
P32 509
P33 510
P34 511
P35 512
D9 Spring beauties
P36 513
D10 How Conrad lost his school-books 10
P37 514
P38 515
P39 516
P40 517
D11 Blossom-time 11
P41 518 (MULTIPLE)
P42 519
P43
P44 521
D12 caricature plant 12
P45 522
D13 Vegetable clothing
P46 523
P47 524
D14 Woe to foreign dolly! 14
P48 525
D15 Nicholas dog stories 15
P49 526
P50 527
P51 528
P52 529
P53 530
P54 531
P55 532
D16 smallest circus in world 16
P56 533
P57 534
D17 Rock-a-bye 17
P58 535
D18 What Bertie saw flowers 18
P59 536
D19 Keeping cream one's reading 19
P60 537
D20 Wonders alphabet 20
P61 538
P62 539
D21 Bubble bowling 21
P63 540
P64 541
D22 knickerbocker 22
P65 542
D23 brownies roller skates 23
P66 543
P67 544
P68 545
D24 Easter carol 24
P69 546
D25 handiwork some clever school-boys 25
P70 547
P71 548
P72 549
P73 550
D26 A new view moon 26
P74 551
D27 Jack-in-the-pulpit 27
P75 552
P76 553
D28 letter-box 28
P77 554
P78 555
P79 556
D29 Agassiz association Sixty-first report 29
P80 557
P81 558
D30 riddle-box 30
P82 559
P83 560
D31 31 Back
P85
P86
D32 32 Spine
P87
METS:behaviorSec VIEWS Options available user for viewing this item
METS:behavior VIEW1 STRUCTID Default View
METS:mechanism Viewer JPEGs Procedure xlink:type simple xlink:title JPEG_Viewer()
VIEW2 Alternate
zoomable JPEG2000s JP2_Viewer()
INTERFACES Banners or interfaces which resource can appear under
INT1 Interface
UFDC_Interface_Loader


St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION SEARCH THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00171
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Portion of title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subjects / Keywords: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
serial   ( sobekcm )
 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
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
System ID: UF00065513:00171
 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 482
    When Shakspere was a boy
        Page 483
        Page 484
        Page 485
        Page 486
        Page 487
        Page 488
        Page 489
        Page 490
        Page 491
    May song
        Page 492
        Page 493
    The girls' tricycle club and its run down the cape
        Page 494
        Page 495
        Page 496
        Page 497
        Page 498
        Page 499
        Page 500
    Morning-glories
        Page 501
    Little lord Fauntleroy
        Page 502
        Page 503
        Page 504
    George Washington
        Page 505
        Page 506
        Page 507
        Page 508
        Page 509
        Page 510
        Page 511
        Page 512
    Spring beauties
        Page 513
    How Conrad lost his school-books
        Page 514
        Page 515
        Page 516
        Page 517
    Blossom-time - A search for the lace-leaf
        Page 518
        Page 519
        Page 520
        Page 521
    The caricature plant
        Page 522
    Vegetable clothing
        Page 523
        Page 524
    Woe to the foreign dolly!
        Page 525
    St. Nicholas dog stories
        Page 526
        Page 527
        Page 528
        Page 529
        Page 530
        Page 531
        Page 532
    The smallest circus in the world
        Page 533
        Page 534
    Rock-a-bye
        Page 535
    What Bertie saw in the flowers
        Page 536
    Keeping the cream of one's reading
        Page 537
    Wonders of the alphabet
        Page 538
        Page 539
    Bubble bowling
        Page 540
        Page 541
    The knickerbocker boy
        Page 542
    The brownies on roller skates
        Page 543
        Page 544
        Page 545
    Easter carol
        Page 546
    The handiwork of some clever school-boys
        Page 547
        Page 548
        Page 549
        Page 550
    A new view of the moon
        Page 551
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 552
        Page 553
    The letter-box
        Page 554
        Page 555
        Page 556
    The Agassiz association - Sixty-first report
        Page 557
        Page 558
    The riddle-box
        Page 559
        Page 560
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text











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









, ^y ,,. ,. /






S- , .1.

S, I II I I i ,





: ii T.' "' I,,

IN SPRING-TIME-WHEN SHIAKSPERE WAS A BOY.
(SEE PAGE 490.)
""1 '".. .
....' .. " -' l'J,',::- : ;'"'
,,,I 'll ',, r ' "' '
,' ,;.. .. q .;l . .
,.~~ ~~ ".: ,'...,,, ,i
,. ,,,.,, ,, i .l li.,I, ." .',.. .: .. .."-:- "' ''''''", ..., "" .' . .. '" '7 i








../ .i .I' o ,' a',, ':"
IN SPRI . iME--%V I-E SIISP R ASA B
:', ~ ~ ~ gE PAGE 49o.)a 111"1





'-2-


NICHOLAS.


MAY, 1886.


[Copyright, x886, by THE CENTURY CO.]


: r, ,,, :r :.- ,,,..,,,
-..... l. .:.. '.irr..I.

.t* 'T 7 r, hi ,t'- l ,-: ,I

6: !! .. - .: .,! -. Ir .:.-, .,, :.-I ,.[. -
luyv plctscAl T hle 'liII-
dows are filled with little diamond
panes; and in one of the upper
rooms they are guarded with fine wire outside the
old glass, which is misty with innumerable names
scratched all over it. Poets and princes, wise men
and foolish, have scrawled their names after a
silly fashion, on windows, wall, and ceiling of that
oak-floored room, because, on the 22d of April,
1564, a baby was born there- the son of John
and Mary Shakspere. And on the following
Wednesday, April 26, the baby was carried down
to the old church beside the sleepy Avon and
baptized by the name of William.
Little did John Shakspere and the gossips


I.. .:.., i, .- th by W ill-
: '- n, : :I: I.! inscribed in the
.:r -: .i.,. rl ,l .1 corners and clasps
..! ,:[-..-:...il ii .! :, 'hat he was destined to be-
.:...,-,,. E ,. ,,I ,' .,.:ltest poet. Little did they
.1 I ,-,-,. !,.:. i.,-t I.11.. that the old market town and
rl,. I....,,i.: .:., i-i.e,..ly .street and the m eadows
ailua Lt1. iivi,, -uVered.in that pleasant April
month with c.. -1;.: ....1,l;-.: : and "lady-smocks
all silver-white," would become sacred ground to
hundreds of thousands of people from all quarters
of the globe, who should come, year by year, on
reverent pilgrimage to Shakspere's birthplace.
The baby grew up as most babies do; and when
he was two and a half years old, a little brother
Gilbert was born. As we walk through the streets
to-day, we can fancy the little lads toddling about
the town together, while father John was mind-
ing his glove and wool trade at the old house.
John Shakspere, in those early days, was a well-
to-do man. He was a chamberlain of the borough
when little Gilbert was born; and in 1568 he was


ST.


VOL. XIII.


No. 7.





WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


elected High Bailiff, or Mayor, of Stratford,
although he, in common with many of his fellow-
burgesses, could not write his own name. He had
land, too, at Snitterfield, where his father had
lived; and his wife, Mary Arden, was the owner
of Ashbies, the farm at Wilmcote, hard by.


Guild Chapel next door. And this was surely in
the poet's mind when, in later years, he talked of a
" pedant who keeps a school i' the church."
All boys learned their Latin then from two well-
known books- the "Accidence" and the "Senten-
tie Pueriles." And that William was no exception to


MARY ARDEN'S HOUSE AT WILMCOTE.


But, though the parents were illiterate, they
knew the value of a good education. The Free
Grammar School had been refounded a few years
before by Edward VI. And although there is no
actual record of his school days, we may take it
as certain that little Will Shakspere was sent to
the Free School when about seven years old, as we
know his brother Gilbert was, a little later. The
old Grammar School still stands; and boys still learn
their lessons in the self-same room with the high
pitched roof and oaken beams, where little Will
Shakspere studied his "A, B, C-book," and got
his earliest notions of Latin. But during part of
Shakspere's school days the schoolroom was
under repair; and boys and master-Walter
Roche by name-migrated for a while to the


the rule we may see by translations from the latter
in several of his plays, and by an account, in one
of his plays, of Master Page's examination in the
" Accidence." An old desk which came from the
Grammar School and stood there in Shakspere's
time is shown at the birthplace. And when we
look at it we wonder what sort of a boy little
William was whether his future greatness made
a mark in any way during his school days;
whether that conical forehead of his stood him
in good stead as he learned his Latin Gram-
mar; whether he was quiet and studious, or
merry and mischievous; whether he hid dormice
and apples and birds' eggs in his desk, and peeped
at them during school hours; whether he got
into scrapes and was whipped. Just think of


484


[MAY,





WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


Shakspere getting a whipping! No doubt he often
did. Masters in those days were not greater, but
rather less, respecters of persons than they are now,
and they believed very firmly in the adage which is
goingoutoffashion, that to spare the rod is to spoil
the child. So we may think of little Will Shak-
spere coming out of the Grammar School and pass-
ing the old Guild Chapel and the Falcon Inn with
two little red fists crammed into two little red and


things as only a country-bred boy can know about
them. He and Gilbert must have run many a time
to Ashbies, their mother's farm at Wilmcote, and
watched the oxen plowing in the heavy clay fields;
and cried, perhaps, as children do now as the
butcher takes away the calf"; and played with the
shepherd's bob-tailed cur" ; and gossiped with
Christopher Sly, who could tell them all manner
of wonderful tales, for had he not been peddler,


streaming eyes, and going home to mother Mary card-maker, bear-herd, "and now by present pro-


S, . t2 L' -



boys who got into trouble three hundred years ago must have listened to their father and their uncle
just as they do now. Let us hope his cake was not Henry up at the big farm close to Snitterfield
like one he describes as dough on both sides." church (where Henry Shakspere lived) as the
But I fancy that lessons bore a very small part in two men discussed the price of a yoke of oxen
Will Shakspere's education. He certainly never at Stratford or Warwick fair, or debated whether
knew much Latin; but he knew all about country they should sow the head-land with wheat,-






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


with red wheat, Davy,"* or grumbled over the
"smith's note for shoeing and plough-irons,"
or told the latest turn in the quarrel between
"William Visor of Woncot" and "Clement
Perkes of the Hill." Very likely the little hazel-
eyed boys took William Visor's part, though they


1 : r
I I l.




-" .' ^ & ^- ".. .- :, '* ':
-t-"


-- I .... '


''- --J c 1 C
THE SCHOOL AND GUILD CHAPEL. not al-
lowed
the liberty of speech they enjoy in these degenerate
times. William Visor was a neighbor of the Ardens,
and possibly a friend of "Marian Hackett, the fat
ale-wife of Wincot"; for Wincot, Woncot, and
Wilmncote are all the same place. Or perhaps
the young lads sided with Clement Perkes; for


the Hill where he lived at Weston was known as
Cherry Orchard Farm, a name full of tempting sug-
gestions to little boys. And we know that Shak-
spere, like many less wise people, was fond of
"ripe red cherries." He mentions them again
and again. He and Gilbert, and their little friends
the Sadlers and Harts and
Halls, must have played bob-
cherry, as we do now,- draw-
ing up the stem of the cherry
with our tongues, and, with
a sudden snap, getting the
round, ripe fruit between our
lips,- and then have used the
stones for "cherry-pit"-a
child's game that is frequently
mentioned by Shakspere and
other old writers, which con-
sisted in pitching cherry-
stones into a small hole.
N*.-.-J Stratford lies just at the
beginning of the fruit-growing
;. country, which stretches right
g down the Vale of Evesham to
Worcester and the Severn;
and little Will Shakspere was
well versed in the merits of all
S kinds of fruits. There were
the plum-trees, that make you
S"' ,, think in the spring-time that
.,--3 a snow-shower has fallen upon
-'- a sunny day all over the Strat-
ford district; while in the au-
tumn the branches are laden
with "the mellow plum."
'.',.. .ii ..l.:.ult that little W ill climbed the dam-
i-..-I..-r. ** ai danger of my life," as he said later
rti- i 0-,--.:. -I'd at his wife's bidding? f In the
j.l:. _r: .i' ii:-os apples of many sorts- some of
l* I:... i:.l.. .., rare or extinct in other parts of
"i.; I.,r..l. -i.. _.row about his native place-the
:,I... .,:. t,- Ln :- and leather-coats, the apple-johns
Sd lh: |.,.:..aters. Many a time he must have
.......11 .,l. I11 he boys of the place watching, as
.: rn. -l-r d.. i.-day, the cider-making on some
il _.: r.: ..*. hen the heaps of apples, red, green,
.,,,.:1 I:, .-'r: brought in barrows and baskets
.,i, I ... ,-ii I.,.- the orchards, and ground up into
a thick yillu, pulp in the crushing-mill turned
by a horse, and that pulp is put into presses from
which the clear juice runs into tubs, while the dry
cakes of pulp are carted away to fatten the pigs.
There were grapes, too, growing plentifully in
Warwickshire in his day; and "apricocks," "ripe
figs, and mulberries," like those with which the
fairies were told to feed Bottom the weaver. Black-
berries and the handsome purple dewberries grew


*2d Henry IV., Act 5, Scene i. 2d Henry VI., Act 2, Scene i.


486


[MAY,






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


then as now, by the hedges in the orchards and "roasted crabs" for her gossips. Will, I warrant,
in the shade of the Weir-brake just below Stratford as with twinkling eyes he watched Mrs. Hart or
mill, where, so says tradition, the scene of the Mrs. Sadler or Mrs. Hathaway, from Shottery,
" Midsummer Night's Dream" was laid. In the thought that it was Puck himself, the very spirit
Weir-brake, too, and in all the woods about their of mischief, who had got into the bowl in very
home, the Shakspere boys must have gone likeness of a roasted crab."
nutting-that most delightful harvest of the year, It must have been a recollection of those winter


THE GUILD COUNCIL-ROOM--NOW THE HEAD-MASTER'S CLASS-ROOM.


when you bend down "the hazel twig," so "straight
and slender," and fill baskets and pockets with the
sweet nuts in their rough, green husks, and crack
them all the way home like so many happy squirrels.
All the hedge-rows were full then, as they are
to this day, of wild pear-trees, wild apples, and
" crabs," as crab-apples are called in England.
Roasted crabs" served with hot ale were
a favorite Christmas dish in Shakspere's time.
And I doubt not that the boys rejoiced at the
house in Henley street as the time of year came
round when roasted crabs hiss in the bowl."
How snug the" house-place in the old home must
have looked with its roaring fire of logs, on winter
evenings, when the two little boys of nine and
seven, and Joan and Anne, the little sisters, hud-
dled up in the chimney-corner with baby Richard
in his cradle, while the mother prepared hot ale and


evenings that made little Will, in later years,
write his delightful Winter Song":
When icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
And Tom bears logs into the hall
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
"When all aloud the wind doth blow
And coughing drowns the parson's saw
And birds sit brooding in the snow
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot."
Among the gossips there would be much talk
of wonders, appearances, mysterious occurrences,


-Z -






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


and charms; and the children listened with
all their ears, you may be sure. Perhaps oneof
Mistress Shakspere's friends possessed the
powerth1nt-.m! people in Warwickshire
still ar- to possess, of charming
away :i by a touch and some mur-
mured invo- .a-_ cation; or curing
toothache i" I--: and all other aches
andpains. i"C There are plenty of
peoplenow -' .av"! who, after your sec-
ond cup of tea is finished, will
takethecup, twist the grounds
aroundthree .... times, turn it mouth
downward in the saucer, and then, by
looking at the tea-leaves which still stick
to the hot- tom of the cup, will undertake

h1.F- ai1-of presents you will re-
,: ive, or people who are com-
iig to see you. Andmany
.-- Warwickshire
women stillbe-
Slieve fil mly that whoop-
ing-cough can be



J \\

S i ....
S-- '? "@t, i .... :,

,:.


are to-day. Each game then, as now, had its
regular season in the year. In the season for
marbles, no one would dream of playing any-
thing else. Knuckle-hole" is still the favorite
game in Warwickshire. The standing-up game,
pitching the taw from a mark scraped across the
ground, is, I am told by competent authorities,
rather going out of fashion; but it is still played.
The marble season lasts through the late winter,
much to the distraction of mothers, who have to
clean and mend their sons' nether garments, which
are worn with kneeling and plastered with mud at
that time of year. Then comes the spinning-top,
whip-top, and peg-top time. Later again there is
tip-cat for the boys, and hop-scotch for the
girls.
On the corn-bins in the Warwickshire ale-house
stables we can still find the lines rudely cut for
" nine men's morris." This, in Shakspere's day,
was a favorite game, and one much in vogue
among the shepherd boys in the summer, who cut
a "board" in the short turf and whiled away the long
hours by playing it. Little Will must often have
gone to watch his father play "shovel-board" at
!ii. F -dI.:.:. it.. ern, in Stratford, on the board upon
hi.:, [i-i.-l.ain says he himself played, in later
ii;. . A,! i home, he and his brother must have
t.,.-.:,i "" i-". it-pin," an old game which is still
[! -1 ii r.. .ote parts of the country. Two pins
.I.: it L.. .. 1i.. table; the players in turn jerk them
rl. i11,i.: ingers, and he who throws one pin
-..I.:. i -,.- I.ier is allowed to take one of them,
I,.- it!:.. ho do not succeed have to give a pin.
i'li i Ih: : -.me Shakspere alludes to in "Love's
L i1...... L.'.st," when he says, "And Nestor
ii.'-, .,i. 1'u. .-pin with the boys."
i i l V' .11 knew a great deal about sport. All his
;i!!l....i. i.. :porting or woodcraft are those of a
,-ii 1.0l had been familiar with such things
Si. i his childhood. He and Gilbert must
I ,i e set plenty of springs, to
Citrch w.nni- cocks," and
A '" the earth-
S.... conies" that
S... : 1 in the com-
-...... I Welcombe,
S1 those din-
"-"- gles that in
e.i. t .-.A "! ter years he


.- ,P6 ii "-ht so hard
.. ..*^ ^ '* g~t ,,.{.,'eservefrom
,1,. ,,- 1' osure.

Ihey must
T .. . .. I .. /' -; hlcve fished many
DAY, OF WILD APPLES, WILD PEARS, AND 'CRABS." a time, as the
Stratford boys do
to this day, in the slow waters of the Avon, sitting quietly intent for hours upon the steep clay bank


[MAY,






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


BOYS FISHING IN THE AVON-OPPOSITE THE WEIR-BRAKE.


to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait."'

Then who can doubt that he often watched the
hunting of the hare? Each line in his wonderful
description of the hunted hare is written by a
thorough sportsman and a keen observer of nature.
H-ow the purblind hare runs among a flock of
sheep or into a rabbit-warren, or sorteth with a
herd of deer" to throw out "the hot scent-snuff-


ing hounds." How they pause silent till they
have worked with much ado the cold fault
cleanly out," and then burst into music again.
Of deer, Shakspere knew much-too much
for his own comfort. In his childhood, there were
herds at Fulbrooke,-and when he was older, at
Charlecote, at Grove Park, and at Warwick. And
probably there were a few roe in the wilder parts
of the Forest of Arden, which came down within
three miles of Stratford, and covered the whole of


*" Much Ado about Nothing," Act 3, Sc. I.


489






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


the country north of the Avon, out to Nuneaton
and Birmingham. We can fancy how the boys
stole out to watch the Grevilles and Leycesters
and Lucys and Verneys on some great hunting
party, and whispered to each other,
Under this thick-grown brake we '11 shroud ourselves,
For through this land anon the deer will come."

But the time of all others in the
year that we connect most closely
with Shakspere is the sweet spring-
time, when the long cold winter--
very long and very cold among those
undrained clay-lands of Warwick-
shire -had come to an end. How
closely little Will watched for
"daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty";
and for
"violets, cowslips, and pale primroses."

We can fancy the little boys hunt-
ing in some sheltered nook in the
Welcombe woods for the first prim-
roses; and climbing up Borden Hill
just beyond Shottery, perhaps with
Anne Hathaway from the pretty old
house in the orchards below, to the '
bank-the only one in the neighbor-
hood,
where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips, and the nodding violet grows";

or wandering over the flat sunny
meadows along the Avon valley,
picking cowslips, and looking into
each tiny yellow bell for the spots
in their gold coats,-
Those be rubies, fairy favors,
In those freckles live their savors,"-

as they brought home baskets of
the flower-heads for their mother to
make into cowslip wine.
Spring, in this Stratford country,
is exquisite. The woods are car-
peted with primroses and wild hya-
cinths; while in the "merry month
of May" the nightingale swarms among the haw-
thorn trees white with blossom.
On every village green there stood a painted
May pole -one is still standing at Weston, near
Stratford; and May-Day is still kept in Warwick-
shire with a May feast" upon old May-Day, the
12th of May. Every one knows how the prettiest
girl in the village was chosen Queen o' the May, and
how all joined in the "Whitsun Morris-dance."


Long Marston,-"Dancing Marston," as it has
been called ever since Shakspere's time,-a few
miles from Stratford, was famous till within the
memory of man for a troop of Morris-dancers,
who went about from village to village, strangely
dressed, to dance at all the feasts. Shakspere
probably had the Marston dancers in his mind when
he wrote of the "three carters, three shepherds,


A BUNCH OF COWSLIPS.

three neat-herds, three swine-herds," that made
themselves all "men of hair," and called themselves
"Saltiers," at the sheep-shearing feast which
pretty Perdita presided over, in "The Winter's
Tale." The sheep-shearing feast, which came
when roses were out on the hedges and in the
gardens, must have been a merry and important
time for the Shakspere boys. John Shakspere
was, of course, specially interested in the price of a


490


[MAY,






WHEN SHAKSPERE WAS A BOY.


tod of wool, for wool-stapling was part of his trade.
Perhaps William himself was sent by his mother
to buy the groceries for the feast, and stood con-
ning the list as he makes the clown do, in The
Winter's Tale."
In the spring-timne, too, came the peddler with
all his wonders and treasures :
Lawn as white as driven snow;
Cypress black as e'er was crow;
Gloves as sweet as damask roses;
Masks for faces and for noses."
Those last must have pleased the little boys
more than all the rest of the peddler's goods. And
perhaps it was from this very peddler that Will
Shakspere bought the pair of gloves which,
after the fashion of the day, he gave to Anne
Hathaway at their betrothal.
But the great event of the year in the quiet
country town was Stratford "Mop" or statute
fair, on the 12th of October. The market-place
was filled, as it is to this day, with clowns and
mountebanks, wrestlers, and rope-dancers at their
"rope-tricks." Oxen and sheep were roasted whole.
A roaring trade was driven by quack doctors and
dentists. All the servants in the country came and
stood around to be hired, as the farm-hands and
the maids for the farm-houses still do-the car-
ters with a bit of whipcord in their hats; the
shepherds with a lock of wool; the laborers with
a straw. And next day, we n6ed not doubt, there
were many candidates for the town stocks, as there
are now for the police court. There were bear-
baitings, too, and bull-baitings -those cruel sports
which have only been abolished in Warwickshire
within the last hundred years. But in Shakspere's
day bear-baiting was a popular and refined amuse-
ment. During Queen Elizabeth's visit to Kenil-
worth, in 1575, there was a great bear-baiting in
her honor, of which a curious and most sickening
account still exists. And when Shakspere went
to London his lodgings were close to the bear-gar-
den, or "Bear's College," at Southwark, whither
all London flocked to see the poor beasts tormented
and tortured.
There was, however, one amusement which,
from his earliest years, must have delighted little
Will Shakspere above all others- I mean a
visit from the players. That he inherited his
love for the drama from his father is more than
probable; for it was during the year of John
Shakspere's High Bailiffship that plays are first
mentioned in the records at Stratford. According
to the custom of the day, when the players be-
longing to some great nobleman came to a. town,
they reported themselves to the mayor to get a


license for playing. If the mayor liked them, or
wished to show respect to their master, he would
appoint them to play their first play before himself
and the Council. This was called the Mayor's
Play, every one coming in free, and the mayor
giving the players a reward in money. Between
the autumns of 1568 and 1569,
"The Queen's and the Earl of Worcester's players visited the town
and gave representations before the Council, the former company
receiving nine shillings and the latter twelve pence for their first
performances."
And there is little reason to doubt that our little
Will, then between five and six years old, was
taken to see them by his father, the mayor, as a
little boy named Willis was taken at Gloucester
that same year, being exactly William Shak-
spere's age; and, standing between his father's
knees, Master Will probably there got his first ex-
perience of the art in which he was to become the
master for all ages. We wonder what that first
play was some quaint, rude drama probably,
such as the one little Willis saw at Gloucester, with
plenty of princes and fair ladies, and clemons with
painted masks, and the Herod" in red gloves,
of the Coventry Mystery players.
Not only in Stratford, but in most of the towns
roundabout, there are various records of players
giving performances. When little Will was eleven
years old, Queen Elizabeth came on her celebrated
visit, in 1575, to Lord Leycester at Kenilworth;
and as all the country flocked to see the great
show, it is probable that the boy and his father
were among the crowds of spectators and saw
some of the plays given in the Queen's honor.
A year or two later, troubles began to multiply
at the house in Henley street. John Shakspere
got into debt. The farm at Ashbies was mortgaged.
His daughter Anne died in 1579; and two years
before her death, young William, then thirteen,
was taken from school and apprenticed -some
accounts say to a butcher or, as seems more
probable, to his own father, to help him in his
failing wool-trade.
For the next five years nothing is known about
Will Shakspere. Then we find him courting
Anne Hathaway in the pretty old brick and tim-
bered cottage at Shottery, its garden all full of
roses and rosemary, carnations and striped gilly-
vors." A year or two later, he is stealing one
of Sir Thomas Lucy's deer,-writing a lampoon
on the worthy justice,-and flying to London
from his wrath, to hold horses at the door of the
Globe Theater before he joined the Lord Cham-
berlain's players, and became known to all poster-
ity as Mr. William Shakspere, Writer of Plays.


491






MAY SONG.


-.
S' I

= i i j _._. U~ ( _4__. j._-. r,_-r i:,

~~ _~~ I' c.
S ,:-,' ,:' .

,.I
'. # . = - - -'_x_ i ','
~~~~~~~~~~~~ __:.r _, --, :.-_. .--- '
,,,._.. ; ,


Co-
0'-


vQ~ -r

99~.


s'1









R,.
- i,






C '"b c
9 0- ~


- 1- -- -7

i'';
I t '*



4-- "-:-. 4' -'l -" ._
". t .. ? " \ l *./- .7-
,\-


/
I-


'9>
9" 9








'i-i
,? -




/37
Y4


,. -/


S/an byhin3 n ,w in5 abu u y -'u u -




rY .lr 57 ,




~vy rty dar'
in .? abt y n l ben -an3 '
o a9 wheni ie wcrid. wa youn, /
tyvr l-roal andb Aodi AcnI ^. io n s

f> -- 9- *


~//;// // "/ //;~~

// ..
I,/
!is/
/ /'y/
/. -. - L / .
I1 / -' "
7-_ i


492


. 7 " : , -. -_. ,, -,' -.-_- .,* -_ ,_" "- '1 .

- 1 ' 1' -- _"
'' -" -



'L It


iII ''P ,1'





MAY SONG.


if
A .-~


I-. ,-.
/'


( ew t2 o i:e cucli of
V, w /' my
hedairij co- icfarri
kn' v [he wry*
A metaIrVi n5 l'p < >
-~. .ydl alnd id'L(-.w

^^__/ y^/


i o? i really do-nl [1;hink ierej anything frerl,,
(7r nw>, my dear.
\ I-he ,,orl ~dym,,, tand available rhyme
"\re few, my dear.
\ 'TJa.yainUr3lt ctdo vernal bey ',
ndaJforbear [o melaon thet unLifjho,,g.,
Si" [hk i jh~ nm
_ - tI)nby u- I y clear -





r -",t^ l'


6,- ---






C -- ^ `C ** ..
'06 ; -I


nc[yelJ I cannot elp lDvin yLn ,u. "
j JAy/ m/ny dear,
IhatLkae odwordj,whelhr I will or no,
jyy.ears
nd. howy ar6 fairr and. Ivw yu. are
A v [ava'" fiur -orever rene -


6/
,, '" :'








zP -I -r
1, 'Y.. ._
." ,. 1 2 '" --






\...' V ,
tV" \.

, ', \ - .* ,.
>>...-' .* ,' -.'1 ...* V ,.

.;, 1 i -, ,
.. .
I,


r'aj jlylaw my y!-



-a
." I .









'. ,^
A< *

^ .*.-
-A
'.. .. h2

,... T rcq.:-


493


__I


r, ,
,b.,


2 V |-' -
amany hzxejata& na ,,-Lr cy are iLuP1



nd if r or": 4y or u < '
/.'hou'vc bIldy a llO theCou.r eTvy were green \ '
'1 ,would. be t i' jy TtoVca, ween, \,'



yOk c know 1 your birdj havehk IyeeteJt 'uni'
d.,ar, /& my &dear '
ig3 wilh whiLe and QcI4 And Lover l e bve be I eneai-h your moon-
my dear. c yy my dair
mked blom [ A i d"clLI A yI our p'rfumel K';-r
sur5@nillC cUll., ,' "ce0 rd' rer pdUCtiv' or Relgpeh b6ltY;
anl garden -wall, TLL' _
tdler. 'ltlxmy dsarf


L"- - 2..


" ~cg
,,





THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB
AND ITS RUN DOWN THE CAPE.

BY E. VINTON BLAKE.


TRICYCLES had become an every-day affair in
Sherridoc, and since the formation of the Girls'
Club, lady tricyclers were not an extraordinary
sight. So Charlotte, or Charley Van Rensse-
laer, as she was called, and her brother Starrett ex-
cited but little comment as they wheeled swiftly
down Haymarket street, movingnoiselesslyandeas-
ily through the throng of carriages and other vehi-
cles, until, as the houses grew less frequent and the
pavements stopped altogether, they rolled through
the suburbs of the town and so into the open
country, without stay or pause.
For they were making time. The club itself,
thanks to the failure of the express company to
deliver Charley's new "Columbia" when promised,
had several hours' start on the road; and Starrett,
like the obliging brother that he was, had remained
behind in order that Charlotte need not ride alone
nor the club be longer delayed by waiting for her.
Charley Van Rensselaer, her cousin Cornelia, or
"Corny" Hadwin, and their warm friends Mattie
Hyde and Arno Cummings, were four bright and
active young girls of from thirteen to sixteen, who
composed the Girls' Tricycle Club. Little by little
they had won first the interest and then the con-
sent of their somewhat conservative parents to this
novel but exhilarating exercise, and having now
become expert riders, they were off for a long run
of eighty miles down Cape Cod from Sherridoc
City to Curtin Harbor, where their parents had
summer cottages. Faithful and clever Joe Mars-
ton, Mr. Van Rensselaer's colored servant, and an
expert tricycler, had gone ahead with the club as
guide and commissary-general, and Starrett Van
Rensselaer, Charley's younger brother, was in-
vited to accompany them as an escort, on the
odd-looking "Royal Mail" he had borrowed for
the trip,-bicycles not being allowed.
And now the door-yards broaden out and the
houses become still more rambling. There are
wide-spreading orchard boughs, and cool woody
spaces here and there between the farms. Now a
youngster scampersinto the house shrieking, Ma,
Ma! Oh, come here, Ma! Here 's a girl a-ridin'
three wheels at once and Charley, looking
back, perceives the urchin's sisters and cousins
and aunts peering at her from the door. Starrett
too looks back, and laughs.
You 'll have to get used to that," he says.
I expect to," responds Charley serenely ; "but


you must remember that four of these things have
gone on before us on this same road and they must
have taken off a little of the novelty."
Over the brow of Haymarket Hill they go, and
the long steep sweep into the valley of the Owas-
see lies before them. Charley, with her feet on
the "rest," commences to descend. An amazed
cow grazing by the roadside makes a charge on
the singular vehicle, but the girl never flinches,
and with one hand on the steering-bar and the
other on the brake she avoids every stone, every
rut, every gully in the road. The irate cow, after
nearly plunging on its nose down the first steep
incline, pauses to recover its senses and then re-
turns slowly up the hill. Starrett waves it a
laughing adieu. Sensible bovine that," he says;
" she knows that a stern chase is a long chase."
"My, though! exclaims delighted Charley,
" we 're just flying, Starrett Are n't we ? "
They are indeed. The bushes whiz past,-the
wind sweeps their faces,-trees, stones, fences flit
by like phantoms. Charley feels like abird on the
wing. Such exhilaration is there in a good tricy-
cle "coast downhill!
But it is not all such pleasure; for, a few miles
farther on, they become acquainted with the other
side of the story, as they go toiling up the long
ascent of Comstock Hill, a sandy and winding in-
cline that leads to the highlands of Fisherville.
If it were n't for the sand," said Charley as she
pushes her tricycle before her, "I would test the
new 'power-gear' on my Columbia' by riding up
Comstock Hill. But, dear me, I believe there are
not three yards of solid earth on this road i "
Never mind, we're more than half-way up,"
said Starrett, consolingly.
Do you suppose it's sandy like this near Cur-
tin Harbor ? inquired Charley.
I have n't the least idea," Starrett replied.
If it is, we can branch off and take the cars at
Minot Station."
The cars? Why, Starrett Van Rensselaer!"
exclaims Charley. Why, I would n't take the
cars-not for anything-unless-well, unless I
were fairly driven to it."
And now they both draw a long breath, for the
crest of Comstock Hill is won.
Look behind you, Starrett," says Charley.
Did you ever see a prettier picture? "
Starrett acknowledges he never did. The low-


494


[MAY,






THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


lyingvalleyis green andfair. The Owassee stretches
like a silver ribbon across the picture, and there is
not a human being in sight save these two tricy-
clers who take all this summer beauty into their
impressible young hearts.
On they go, through Fisherville and into the
open country again. Truly no grass grows under-
neath those flashing wheels. The new Colum-
bia" has the oil well worked in by this time, and
the Royal Mail," with its queer one-sided
"steerer," seems undisturbed by any ordinary
roads. The freshening wind is behind them; the
blue sky, cloud-flecked, above; and all around,
bird-song and the rustle of blowing grass and
bending boughs.
"This is grand, Charley!" cries Starrett; "so
much better than horseback riding -and I 've tried
both."
You don't tire yourself much more, and
you 're sure your horse won't run away with you,"
Charley assents, whizzing along beside him. "I
feel strong enough for a good long run yet, and we
ought to catch up with them easily, before long."
The winding, woody road brings them sud-
denly to a hill-top. To the right, below, lies a wide
expanse of velvety marsh meadow, with its vivid
and variegated tints of green, olive, and reddish-
brown, and occasional intersections of tottering,
moss-grown fence; there is a starry glimmer as
of lilies in the frequent pools that give back the
glory of the sun. To the left are seen the dark, still
reaches of a lake that winds in and out in the cool
shadow of high woody banks. An old ice-house
stands lonesome and gray on its margin.
The brother and sister halt on the brow of
the hill, to enjoy a view that may be one of the
memories of a lifetime ; then the wheels roll slowly
toward the descent. The slope is steep and wind-
ing; they do not coast with feet on the rest
above the steering-wheel. It is not desirable to
capsize or collide with any up-coming vehicle. So
they glide warily on, with hands on the brakes,
until the bottom is reached. But here a crazy
guide-post at a fork in the road misleads them by
pointing in the wrong direction for the Wareham
road. But by great good luck, they strike a shady
wood track, full two miles long, which cuts off
five miles from the road they should have trav-
eled, and which, so Starrett says when he recog-
nizes it, will bring them just so much nearer the
club. Dismounting at last, a pine-covered knoll,
with a brook bubbling below, attracts them; and,
seated on the brown pine-needles, the brother
and sister talk over their adventures, and wonder
how far ahead the others may be. Suddenly
Starrett, who faces the road, drops his hands to his
side with an exclamation of surprise.


"What now?" says Charley, looking quickly
around. A glance makes her a partner in Star-
rett's astonishment; for, over the main road they
have just now regained, come one, two, three, four
tricycles, their glittering spokes flashing in the sun.
They see Joe Marston's dusky face and stalwart
figure, and behind him they catch the flutter of
garnet and blue--the colors of the club. Occa-
sionally a head in the procession turns to look
expectantly behind.
Starrett and Charley keep close in the shade of
the pines, restraining a laugh with difficulty.
Here is a good place to stop, Joe," cries Cor-
nelia Hadwin. It 's cool and shady, and we can
see the road. I think they should have caught up
with us by this time. Can anything have hap-
pened,-do you suppose? "
"Dunno, miss," answers Joe with a grave
face. But as he dismounts to wheel his machine
up the knoll, he stops short with a sudden
smoothing out of all the perplexed lines from his
dark brow. Hi, dar he exclaims. Look-a
ycr, Miss Corney !"
Cornelia does look, and so do all the rest. There
is a perfect chorus of shrieks and laughter, a babel
of voices, a torrent of questions.
"Oh, we travel, I assure you says Starrett.
"We took a flying leap and came in ahead of
you."
How did it happen? When did you pass us?"
These and countless other questions follow. Then
all is explained, and at five o'clock the merry six
are on the road again, rolling along in lively style.
So, in single file, with Joe in advance, and
Starrett bringing up the rear, the club rides
through the main street of Wareham, down the
long slant to the bridge over the Wareham river.
The evening mist hangs low along the stream; the
bridge seems to stretch across the rushing tide and
end abruptly in mid-air. The soft, grayish opaque
cloud hides the farther shore from sight.
There are heads at doors and windows, and
people on the street stop to gaze. At first the girls
feel a little abashed at so much attention. But
nobody is discourteous; Joe rides steadily on, and
there is nothing to do but to follow.
"I suppose we do look queer to them," says
Mattie Hyde.
"Oh, well, you are missionaries, you know,"
says Starrett assuringly. Perhaps your club may
be the means of introducing tricycles into many of
the places we shall pass through."
That's one of our objects, of course," observes
Charley.
If girls and women knew what comfort one can
take with a tricycle, half the battle would be won,"
says Arno Cummings timidly.


x886.]






THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


/











S' .'J

I- h T "'i I k



I. : i'
'- ,'-"


. '.. I, "


.-_-t ..



Th-A
..^ ^'^4

V!"


"THE BUSHES WHIZ PAST,-TREES, STONES, FENCES FLIT BY LIKE PHANTOMS."


It is n't altogether that, Arno," says Charley,
who, as the originator of the club, has her ad-
vanced theories to support. "A good many would
like to, but don't really dare. You know that
Shakspere says 'Conscience doth make cowards
of us all.' I think that custom makes us cowards,
too."
Custom will be on our side, though, by and
by," declares Mattie Hyde. "Doctor Sawyer
told Mamma the other day that he would pre-
scribe the tricycle rather than medicine for many
of his patients. He said that the machines are
much used in England, and that they are gaining
ground in this country, though not so rapidly as
he could wish."
But even this knowledge of the healthfulness and
desirability of the tricycle does not make a hard
piece of road any easier. After a night's rest at
the hospitable house of an aunt of Mattie Hyde's,
the club find themselves, next day, among the
" Sandwiches," as Starrett facetiously dubs the
town of that name which is divided into North,
East, South, and West Sandwich. And there they
come upon a wooded tract that sorely taxes their
endurance and presents the most formidable ob-
stacle they have yet encountered. The sand is


impassable; it closes completely over the wheel-
tires, and, after a short space of arduous labor, the
club come to a dismayed standstill.
"What on earth are we to do?" queries Corny
Hadwin in despair.
No one answers her. The boughs wave
softly overhead; the small cloud of dust their
efforts have raised floats slowly away and settles
on the scant herbage underneath the pines. Near
at hand sounds the shriek of the "up" train.
They are not far from the railroad.
"Shall we give it up and take to the train?"
Starrett asks, as they catch the sound of the
locomotive.
"Dear me, we must n't do that!" exclaims
Charley. Let's dismount and push the machines
a little way. Perhaps the wheeling is better just
ahead."
But it is not. The ruts are strewn with straw,
shavings, and chips ; everything indicates that the
woods are extensive, and that others before them
have found the sand a tribulation.
Oh, this is the worst of all groans Corny.
But we '11 not give up, nevertheless," declares
little Arno Cummings, developing unexpected grit
in the emergency. I should n't like to tell them


[MAY,






THE GIRLS TRICYCLE CLUB.


at Curtin Harbor that we had toi take to the cars
to get around a i., -.l "
Joe mops the perspiratio from his dusky
broaw, and then stops to listen. A creak, a
rumble, and a tramp, tramp are heard behind
them. "l Dar 's sumAin a-coainl"i" says Joe.
The "sumifi soon appears in sight,-a big,
empty, afor-horse wagon, making its nnwieldy
way in their direction. The same idea occurs to
everybody at once.
There! He '1 carry c s, "
Carry them! Of couirst he ,vil-ftor a con-
sideration. And almost before the driver hasi


I.,


in due time, the young folk have bidden him good
day, and are ~. -- on toward Barnstable. The
air grois : strong, and bracing.
It 's like a breath of new life," says Starrett;
and soon they are -n--. between the long row of
-: .- L old trees that line Barnstable's quiet main
street. Ar the hotel -' : stop for dinner and a
noonday rest.
It is four in the afternoon when they remount.
.,: .- -.1.:.i. who have taken quite an interest
in the young tricyclers, bid them farewell with all
manner of good ishes, and one gray-haired
society lady remarks, Those girls are sensible;

7-


i -'-- _-= - :



-;
r ^ '- 1 f
* Ii . .. I _.
*>%- 9*:.* l


It
ii=


WIa ,IJOE En A urXaCS, TE C9=L3e tmI S, THaiG WAsErU3s


recovered from his evident astonishment at this
vision of six tricycles in the heart of the Sandwich
woods, the riders and their nmacniines are : .:' in
the big cart, and on their way ti- .-'. the sandy
tract, which, -..- mnow leari, is several miles in
extent.
It is ..- :.-. 1t- r;.: horses to go faster than a
walk for the whole distance. The said is a onn-
stant dog, and scarcely a breath of air can pene-
trate the close piny ranks on eiwer sid e he aMow
road. It is a slow and somewhat crowded ride,
but the club tells stories, sings and jakes and
answers the curious inquiries of their teamster, to
:. a tr cyceD is a -i. .- :- o nw ~t But
VoU. XIIL.-32.


and their mothers are sensible too. Give young
people the .'l:;: of nature and the freedom of
outdoor sports, and keep them from late parties,
and the whirl of :'- .[- and fashion. I 've seen too
many young lives warped and twisted and weak-
ened in the endeavor to keep up' in fashionable
society. Yes, those girls are sensible."
And, '.. ` - '"i. by hill and dale, the sensi-
ble" girls and their escort t.. merrily into old
. n_. ,- i, ,with its broad, shady streets and big,
substantial, old-fashioned houses. Quaint and pic-
turesque indeed it is, with quiet nooks and corners,
breezy streets, time-stained wharves where lie bat-
. :': ~ .- : craft and the smarter boats devoted to


ai


I


?1






THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


the summer visitors who have found out the beauties
of the town. Here, too, Arno Cummings has an
uncle, a bluff and breezy old sea-captain, who gives
the whole party a hearty welcome; and at his
house, the club spend two nights and the day be-
tween-a day of shade and shine, with the sea
wind blowing everywhere. They explore the old
town from end to end. They come continually
upon pictures,-now a broad grassy lane with its
moss-grown fences flanked by rising pastures of
brownish grass; now a long slope ending in a
rocky outlook over the blue sea; now a brown cot-
tage nestled in among trees and hills. And on
the second morning after their arrival, they bid
the hospitable Captain Cummings adieu, and pass,
single file, over the great drawbridge across the
inlet that cuts Yarmouth in two, and so spin along
through the succession of little towns which, leav-
ing Yarmouth, almost join together into one.
Such are the "Dennises"-divided as usual into
North, East, South and West,-and the "Har-
wiches," where at Harwich proper the tricyclers
bid farewell to the railroad which has kept them
company at short intervals all the way down.
"Six miles to Curtin Harbor." So says the
lazy youth at a cross roads store, and away they
spin, while the spires and houses of Harwich disap-
pear behind the trees.
And now how the wind blows And all around
the horizon the sky has that watery appearance
that betokens the nearness of the sea. There is
a peculiar, bracing freedom in the wild, salt wind;
the very sway of the brown grass, the swing of
the odorous wild pinks that nod in the corners of
old mossy fences have a life and freshness that
one misses greatly in tamer, more settled districts.
For now they are plunging bravely into the long
stretch of sand barrens and pine woods that, with
only an occasional house, stretch for many a mile
between Harwich and Curtin Harbor.
But here, in the afternoon, a sudden shower
overtakes them. They can no longer pick their
dainty way by the roadside, but must keep the
middle track or run the risk of upsetting. There
is scarce a quarter of a mile of level ground to be
found. The pine woods close in upon them, and
when at the summit of a hill they anxiously look
for some other shelter than the thronging pines,
they can see nothing but the long, winding, light-
ish streak of road and the endless outlines of monot-
onous pine-trees on either side against the dark sky.
Six miles to Curtin Harbor! cries Starrett at
last. "That boy's a fraud. I believe it's sixty."
"Reckon dey 're Cape Cod miles, Mas'r Star-
rett," says Joe. "Dey say down yer, yo' know,
dat one on 'em 's equal to two ob good trav'lin'
in any uthah part ob de world. "


If it were only clear now, coasting merrily down
these hills would be royal fun, but in this state of
the weather caution is necessary. A halt is called
for consultation. The six composedly dismount
and sit down on the clumps of "poverty grass,"
beneath the doubtful shelter of the pines.
"Well, now," asks Starrett, "what are we going
to do? I know you girls are tired and drenched;
you need n't deny it. And there 's no sign of a
house this side of Jericho or Jerusalem."
Suddenly Charley has an idea. 0 girls," she
says, "let 's camp out, right here! We 're not
badly off, for we all have our waterproof cloaks;
but you 've all been longing for an adventure, and
here 's one for a finale. We '11 at least make a
tent and have supper. It '11 be just splendid "
The club vociferously acquiesce. Joe alone,
dubious, shakes his head. But he is outvoted and
overruled.
A quantity of pine boughs are piled, by Joe and
Starrett, tent-fashion, across and around four of
the tricycles; a heap of dry leaves, carefully col-
lected, makes a fragrant couch, whereon the young
ladies compose themselves, wrapped and snugly
covered with shawls and capes from the "luggage-
carriers." Lastly Joe spreads the rubber water-
proofs securely over the wheels and boughs, and
the young campers are completely sheltered.
A rummage in the lunch-boxes and "luggage-
carriers" of the six machines brings to light half a
dozen soda crackers, two bananas, six pieces of
gingerbread, a slice of dry cheese, three apples, and
-this is Joe's surprise !-a small can of chicken.
A chorus of delight greets this last discovery,
and Joe is at once besieged.
"Now, yo' jes' sot down, ef yo' please, young
ladies," says Joe, holding the can above his head.
I '11 'tend to yo' d'reckly. Yo' jes' gib me de
tings and I '11 serve supper in fus'-class style."
When the chicken,- delicately served on the soda
crackers,-the apples, bananas, and gingerbread
are distributed, and the cheese toasted-in a fash-
ion-at one of the lamps, the merry six leave not
a crumb to tell the tale. It is true that a conscious
vacancy still exists in the six hungry stomachs-
such appetites have these young wheelers; but
they are refreshed and no one thinks of complaining.
The merry meal finished, weariness and the pat-
ter of rain incline the girls to rest, and soon silence
falls upon the camp, broken only by the sighing
of the wind among the dark pine boughs, and the
occasional chirp of some sleepy bird.
Then Starret, also, wrapped in his waterproof
coat, throws himself down to rest beneath the
shelter of a friendly pine close by.
Joe, left alone as the sentinel, falls to thinking
over the situation, wondering where they are and


[MAY,





i886.]


THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


499


whether they have missed the right road. He The eyes move, come boldly forward, and Joe,
walks about uneasily and then stands looking up now doubly astonished, sees full in the glare of
and down the stretch of road. The tricycle lamp, the tricycle lamp -a big grayish cat !
which he has lighted to dispel the gloom, casts a And the cat has a nickel-plated collar with a
yellow gleam over the tent and Starrett's shrouded ribbon attached. Joe knows that even on Cape
figure, while beyond and all around are the pines Cod no wild beasts roam about, in summer storms,
with their swaying branches and the long black with nickeled and be-ribboned collars, but what
vistas between. Joe walks back and forth, in the can a cat be doing away in the depths of a pine


i', .;, ..':r- .,., .
ii1, . . .' '. i .' \w ,,, ,



"DE YOUNG GEMMAN AN' I MAKE DIS TENT TO KEEP DE YOUNG LADIES DRY."

rain, vainly trying to think in which direction they forest ? And then he suddenly concludes that the
are to proceed, cat's home can not be far away. The gray cat
He has been wondering thus for perhaps five comes purring about his knees. Joe is fond of
minutes, when he becomes aware of a pair of fiery cats, so he takes it in his arms and fondles its wet
eyes watching him from the shadows. Joe starts, fur, and it proves to be company for him and
He does not know what peculiar class of wild really helps him to forget the discomfort of the
beasts inhabits Cape Cod, but there are the eyes rain.
plainly enough. He stops and stands motionless. At about seven o'clock in the evening, however,






THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB.


the rain slackens, the clouds scatter, and rifts of
light appear through the trees. And just as Joe
is thinking of rousing the club for another
"spin," he hears a whistle and a heavy step
from across the road. Then an old farmer fellow
of about forty-five, in search of a lost cow, comes
to an abrupt and amazed halt at confronting
among the pines Joe, the gray cat, Starrett's re-
cumbent figure, the tent, and the glimmering
tricycle wheels. He stands speechless until Joe's
voice breaks the spell.
Good-ebenin', sar," says Joe. Can you tell
me if dis is de road to Curtin Harbor ? "
"Curtin Harbor!" exclaims the farmer, with
his eyes still full of mute amazement. No, it 's
not. 'T any rate not the direct one. If you 've
come over from Harwich, you 've gone two miles
out of yer way. You should have taken the other
road, back there by the old schoolhouse."
Dar 's whar I missed it cries Joe, slapping
his knee. "I was suah I did sumfin' wrong some-
whar, but I could n't locate it, to save me I 'se
much obliged."
You can cut across to the main road by cross-
ing my field yonder and going up by the house
just beyond --"
Hi, den dere is a house over yar! says Joe.
Why, certainly," says the farmer, not more
than forty rods from here." And when Joe finds
how very near he has been to a comfortable farm-
house he says he feels "like kicking' hisself."
But," says the visitor, still eying the camp.
" How did it all happen. Are you traveling on
foot ? "
No, sar; on tricycles," explains Joe, proudly;
"we are de Girls' Tricycle Club, all de way from
Sherridoc, wid Mas'r Starrett an' me along to look
arter 'em and see 'em safe down to Curtin Harbor.
We los' de track back yondah, an' de young gem-
man an' I jes' rig up dis tent for to keep the young
ladies dry an' gib 'em a chance to rest till de
shower was ober."
The farmer's surprise grows to interest.
"And so this is a tricycle," he says. And did
the young ladies ride those things all the way from
Sherridoc ?"
Allde way, sar," answers Joe, proudly, "'cept
when we wus stuck in de Sandywiches and had to
be carted froo wid a team."
After the good man's curiosity has been satisfied,
and Starrett has summoned the girls to appear,
the worthy farmer strolls off after his lost cow, first
inviting the club to the farm to another supper.
One by one, the girls emerge from their camp, but


when they hear how near to a house they have
been during the rain, great is the laughter.
"I don't care, though," cries Cornelia Hadwin;
" we 've really had a sort of a camping-out time,
and I 'm glad of it."
After hearing Joe's report, the club determines
to push on at once to Curtin Harbor in the early
evening, without accepting the hospitable invita-
tion to supper at the farmhouse.
The two miles to the main road are quickly
traversed, and before long the club wheels
around a long curve in the road, and the
blue expanse of Curtin Harbor lies beneath
them. The clouds are gone by this time; the ris-
ing moon shoots slantwise through a few thin, dis-
solving folds, and brings out ripples of gold and
silver on the long seas. There seems to be a
breeze that stirs the water to darker ruffles beyond
the headland, but where the young folk sit on their
tricycles, enjoying the beauty of the scene and the
salty damp of the evening air, not a blade of the
coarse, silvery beach-grass stirs; every spire and
blade stands in sheeny silver in the mellow
light.
Below the beach-road branches off a long wind-
ing descent to the quiet cottages which lie in the
evening glow, seemingly fast asleep.
Now, girls, for a good coast! cries Starrett.
"Here goes "
And away indeed he goes, over the brow of the
hill, rolling swiftly, and removing his feet from the
pedals as his machine gathers way. Away also they
all fly after him, merry as larks, waking all the
echoes of the shore with their light-hearted shouts
and laughter. The tricycle lamps flash out upon
the seaward road, and soon it comes to pass, that
as Charley's wheels whiz flashing into the wide,
grassy dooryard of a certain pleasant little sum-
mer abode, a hand lifts the window curtain, and
a voice, with a ring of irrepressible gladness but a
great pretense of gruffness, calls out:
"Is this my noisy daughter, who has been run-
ning wild for a week over all the roads on Cape
Cod? "
"Oh, Papa! cries Charley, gleefully, "we
've had a perfectly charming trip "
And so says the entire club. And they pass
a vote of thanks to Joe for taking faithful care
of them, and to Starrett for his excellent escort
duty. And now when the story of their eighty-
mile ride is told, everybody votes tricycling a won-
derfully health-giving and delightful exercise, and
the first long trip of the Girls' Tricycling Club a
grand success.


[MAY,






MORNING-GLORIES.


MORNING-GLORIES.

BY LAURA LEDYARD POPE.


MY neighbor's morning-glories rise
And flutter at her casement;
My morning-glories' lovely eyes
Peep just above the basement.

And both our morning-glories strew
With loveliness the railing,
And thrust their starry faces through
The vines about the paling.


But when at last the thrifty sun
A work-day world arouses,
Hers gather up their dainty skirts
And vanish in their houses.

They draw their silken curtains close,
There 's not a soul can find them;
And mine run up the school-house path,
And shut the door behind them !


.., 'I
1/









Ir ji- fa
I I -
bj -not in.I f& -l\'
2~~~~~~~~ vote~Ij h cdl~>

Kf yi~ p.e~te wot yo~L1o



fr o i ti 1mmo lor~day.r


.886.1







LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT.


I r: A I


I-


. .T 7


-f--r NrT1


I"'" 1 # \N the following Sunday
"% I / morning, Mr. Mor-
daunt had a large con-
LL gregation. Indeed, he
could scarcely remember
any Sunday on which the church had been so
crowded. People appeared upon the scene who sel-
dom did him the honor of coming to hear his ser-
mons. There were even people from Hazelton,
which was the next parish. There were hearty,
sunburned farmers, stout, comfortable, apple-
cheeked wives in their best bonnets and most gor-
geous shawls, and half a dozen children or so to
each family. The doctor's wife was there, with her
four daughters. Mrs. Kimsey and Mr. Kimsey,
who kept the druggist's shop, and made pills, and
did up powders for everybody within ten miles, sat
in their pew; Mrs. Dibble in hers, Miss Smiff, the
village dressmaker, and her friend Miss Perkins,
the milliner, sat in theirs; the doctor's young man
was present, and the druggist's apprentice; in
fact, almost every family on the county side was
represented, in one way or another.
In the course of the preceding week, many won-
derful stories had been told of little Lord Fauntle-
roy. Mrs. Dibble had been kept so busy attending
to customers who came in to buy a pennyworth of
needles or a ha'p'orth of tape and to hear what she
had to relate, that the little shop bell over the


door had nearly tinkled itself to death over the
coming and going. Mrs. Dibble knew exactly
how his small lordship's rooms had been furnished
for him, what expensive toys had been bought,
how there was a beautiful brown pony awaiting
him, and a small groom to attend it, and a little
dog-cart, with silver-mounted harness. And she
could tell, too, what all the servants had said when
they had caught glimpes of the child on the night
of his arrival; and how every female below stairs
had said it was a shame, so it was, to part the poor
pretty dear from his mother; and had all declared
their hearts came into their mouths when he went
alone into the library to see his grandfather, for
" there was no knowing how he 'd be treated, and
his lordship's temper was enough to fluster them
with old heads on their shoulders, let alone a
child."
"But if you '11 believe me, Mrs. Jennifer, mum,"
Mrs. Dibble had said, fear that child does not
know-so Mr. Thomas hisself says; an' set an'
smile he did, an' talked to his lordship as if they'd
been friends ever since his first hour. An' the
Earl so took aback, Mr. Thomas says, that he
could n't do nothing but listen and stare from
under his eyebrows. An' it 's Mr. Thomas's opin-
ion, Mrs. Bates, mum, that bad as he is, he was
pleased in his secret soul, an' proud, too; for a
handsomer little fellow, or with better manners,
though so old-fashioned, Mr. Thomas says he 'd
never wish to see."
And then there had come the story of Higgins.
The Reverend Mr. Mordaunt had told it at his own
dinner table, and the servant who had heard it
had told it in the kitchen, and from there it had
spread like wildfire.
And on market-day, when Higgins had appeared
in town, he had been questioned on every side, and
Newick had been questioned too, and in response
had shown to two or three people the note signed
"Fauntleroy."
And so the farmers' wives had found plenty to
talk of over their tea and their shopping, and they
had done the subject full justice and made the most
of it. And on Sunday they had either walked to
church or had been driven in their gigs by their
husbands, who were perhaps a trifle curious them-
selves about the new little lord who was to be in
time the owner of the soil.
It was by no means the Earl's habit to attend
church, but he chose to appear on this first Sun-


[MAY,






LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.


day-it was his whim to present himself in the
huge family pew, with Fauntleroy at his side.
There were many loiterers in the churchyard,
and many lingerers in the lane that morning.
There were groups at the gates and in the porch,
and there had been much discussion as to whether
my lord would really appear or not. When this
discussion was at its height, one good woman sud-
denly uttered an exclamation.
"Eh," she said; that must be the mother,
pretty young thing."
All who heard turned and looked at the slender
figure in black coming up the path. The veil was
thrown back from her face and they could see how
fair and sweet it was, and how the bright hair
curled as softly as a child's under the little widow's
cap.
She was not thinking of the people about; she
was thinking of Cedric, and of his visits to her,
and his joy over his new pony, on which he had
actually ridden to her door the day before, sitting
very straight and looking very proud and happy.
But soon she could not help being attracted by the
fact that she was being looked at and that her ar-
rival had created some sort of sensation. She first
noticed it because an old woman in a red cloak
made a bobbing curtsy to her, and then another
did the same thing and said, God bless you, my
lady! and one man after another took off his hat
as she passed. For a moment she did not under-
stand, and then she realized that it was because
she was little Lord Fauntleroy's mother that they
did so, and she flushed rather shyly and smiled
and bowed too, and said, "Thank you" in a
gentle voice to the old woman who had blessed
her. To a person who had always lived in a bus-
tling, crowded American city this simple deference
was very novel, and at first just a little embarrass-
ing; but after all, she could not help liking and
being touched by the friendly warm-heartedness
of which it seemed to speak. She had scarcely
passed through the stone porch into the church
before the great event of the day happened. The
carriage from the Castle, with its handsome horses
and tall liveried servants, bowled around the cor-
ner and down the green lane.
Here they come went from one looker-on
to another.
And then the carriage drew up, and Thomas
stepped down and opened the door, and a little
boy, dressed in black velvet, and with a splendid
mop of bright waving hair, jumped out.
Every man, woman, and child looked curiously
upon him.
He 's the Captain over again said those
of the on-lookers who remembered his father.
He 's the Captain's self, to the life "


He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the
Earl, as Thomas helped that nobleman out, with
the most affectionate interest that could be imag-
ined. The instant he could help, he put out his
hand and offered his shoulder as if he had been
seven feet high. It was plain enough to every one
that however it might be with other people, the
Earl of Dorincourt struck no terror into the breast
of his grandson.
Just lean on me," they heard him say. "How
glad the people are to see you, and how well they
all seem to know you "
Take off your cap, Fauntleroy," said the Earl.
" They are bowing to you."
To me! cried Fauntleroy, whipping off his
cap in a moment, baring his bright head to the
crowd and turning shining, puzzled eyes on them
as he tried to bow to every one at once.
God bless your lordship said the curtsying,
red-cloaked old woman who had spoken to his
mother; "long life to you "
Thank you, ma'am," said Fauntleroy. And
then they went into the church, and were looked
at there, on their way up the aisle to the square,
red-cushioned and curtained pew. When Fauntle-
roy was fairly seated he made two discoveries which
pleased him : the first was that, across the church
where he could look at her, his mother sat and
smiled at him; the second, that at one end of
the pew against the wall, knelt two quaint figures
carven in stone, facing each other as they kneeled
on either side of a pillar supporting two stone mis-
sals, their pointed hands folded as if in prayer,
their dress very antique and strange. On the tab-
let by them was written something of which he
could only read the curious words:
"Here lyethe ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure
Fyrst Earle of Dorincort allsoe of Alysone Hilde-
garde hys wyfe."
"May I whisper? inquired hislordship, devoured
by curiosity.
What is it? said his grandfather.
Who are they ?"
Some of your ancestors," answered the Earl,
who lived a few hundred years ago."
"Perhaps," said Lord Fauntleroy, regarding
them with respect, perhaps I got my spelling from
them." And then he proceeded to find his place
in the church service. When the music began, he
stood up and looked across at his mother, smiling.
He was very fond of music, and his mother and he
often sang together, so he joined in with the rest,
his pure, sweet, high voice rising as clear as the
song of a bird. He quite forgot himself in his
pleasure in it. The Earl forgot himself a little
too, as he sat in his curtain-shielded corner of the
pew and watched the boy. Cedric stood with the





FAUNTLEROY.


big psalter open in his hands, singing with all his
childish might, his face a little uplifted, happily;
and as he sang, a long ray of sunshine crept in
and, slanting through a golden pane of a stained
glass window, brightened the falling hair about his
young head. His mother, as she looked at him
across the church, felt a thrill pass through her
heart, and a prayer rose in it too; a prayer that
the pure, simple happiness of his childish soul
might last, and that the strange, great fortune


born. And that is best of all, Ceddie,-it is better
than everything else, that the world should be a
little better because a man has lived-even ever
so little better, dearest."
And on his return to the Castle, Fauntleroy had
repeated her words to his grandfather.
And I thought about you when she said that,"
he ended; and I told her that was the way the
world was because you had lived, and I was going
to try if I could be like you."


.1r





"I 'VE A GREAT DEAL TO THANK YOUR LORDSHIP FOR," SAID HIGGINS. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


which had fallen to him might bring no wrong
or evil with it. There were many soft anxious
thoughts in her tender heart in those new days.
Oh, Ceddie she had said to him the even-
ing before, as she hung over him in saying good-
night, before he went away; oh, Ceddie, dear,
I wish for your sake I was very clever and could
say a great many wise things But only be good,
dear, only be brave, only be kind and true always,
and then you will never hurt any one, so long as
you live, and you may help many, and the big
world may be better because my little child was


"And what did she say to that?" asked his
lordship, a trifle uneasily.
She said that was right, and we must always
look for good in people and try to be like it."
Perhaps it was this the old man remembered as
he glanced through the divided folds of the red
curtain of his pew. Many times he looked over
the people's heads to where his son's wife sat
alone, and he saw the fair face the unforgiven dead
had loved, and the eyes which were so like those
of the child at his side; but what his thoughts
were, and whether they were hard and bitter, or


LITTLE LORD


[MAY,






GEORGE WASHINGTON.


softened a little, it would have been hard to
discover.
As they came out of the church, many of those
who had attended the service stood waiting to see
them pass. As they neared the gate, a man who
stood with his hat in his hand made a step forward
and then hesitated. He was a middle-aged farmer,
with a careworn face.
Well, Higgins," said the Earl.
Fauntleroy turned quickly to look at him.
Oh he exclaimed; is it Mr. Higgins ?"
Yes," answered the Earl dryly; "and I sup-
pose he came to take a look at his new landlord."
Yes, my lord," said the man, his sunburned
face reddening. Mr. Newick told me his young
lordship was kind enough to speak for me, and I
thought I 'd like to say a word of thanks, if I might
be allowed."
Perhaps he felt some wonder when he saw what
little fellow it was who had innocently done so much
for him, and who stood there looking up just as
one of his own less fortunate children might have
done-apparently not realizing his own impor-
tance in the least.
I 've a great deal to thank your lordship for,"
he said; a great deal. I- "
Oh," said Fauntleroy; I only wrote the let-
ter. It was my grandfather who did it. But you
know how he is about always being good to every-
body. Is Mrs. Higgins well now?"
Higgins looked a trifle taken aback. He also
was somewhat startled at hearing his noble land-


lord presented in the character of a benevolent
being, full of engaging qualities.
I-well, yes, your lordship," he stammered;
" the missus is better since the trouble was took
off her mind. It was worrying broke her down."
I 'm glad of that," said Fauntleroy. My
grandfather was very sorry about your children
having the scarlet fever, and so was I. He has had
children himself. I 'm his son's little boy, you
know."
Higgins was on the verge of being panic-strick-
en. He felt it would be the safer and more dis-
creet plan not to look at the Earl, as it had been
well known that his fatherly affection for his sons
had been such that he had seen them about twice
a year, and that when they had been ill, he had
promptly departed for London, because he would
not be bored with doctors and nurses. It was a
little trying therefore to his lordship's nerves to be
told, while he looked on, his eyes gleaming from
under his shaggy eyebrows, that he felt an interest
in scarlet fever.
"You see, Higgins," broke in the Earl with
a fine grim smile; "you people have been mis-
taken in me. Lord Fauntleroy understands me.
When you want reliable information on the subject
of my character, apply to him. Get into the car-
riage, Fauntleroy."
And Fauntleroy jumped in, and the carriage
rolled away down the green lane, and even when it
turned the corner into the high road, the Earl was
still grimly smiling.


(To be continued.)




GEORGE WASHINGTON.
[A Historical Biografly.]

BY HORACE E. SCUDDER.


CHAPTER XIII.

A VIRGINIA BURGESS.

BEFORE Washington's marriage, and while he
was in camp near Fort Cumberland, making active
preparations for the campaign against Fort Du-
quesne, there was an election for members of the
Virginia House of Burgesses. Washington offered
himself as candidate to the electors of Frederic
County, in which Winchester, where he had been
for the past three years, was the principal town.
His friends were somewhat fearful that the other
candidates, who were on the ground, would have
the advantage over Washington, who was with


the army, at a distance; and they wrote, urging
him to come on and look after his interests. Colo-
nel Bouquet, under whose orders he was, cheer-
fully gave him leave of absence, but Washington
replied:
"I had, before. Colonel Stephen came to this
place, abandoned all thoughts of attending per-
sonally the election at Winchester, choosing rather
to leave the management of that affair to my
friends, than be absent from my regiment, when
there is a probability of its being called to duty.
I am much pleased now, that I did so."
Here was a case where Washington broke his
excellent rule of--"If you want a thing done, do
it yourself." If his regiment was to lie idle at Fort


505





GEORGE WASHINGTON.


Cumberland, he could easily have galloped to Win-
chester, and have been back in a few days; but there
was a chance that it might move, and so he gave up
at once all thought of leaving it. Glad enough he
was to have the news confirmed. To lead his men
forward, and to have a hand in the capture of Fort
Duquesne, was the first thing-the election must
take care of itself. This was not a bad statement
for his friends at Winchester to make. A man
who sticks to his post, and does his duty without
regard to his personal interests, is the very man
for a representative in the legislature. The people
of Frederic knew Washington thoroughly, and
though they had sometimes felt his heavy hand,
they gave him a hearty vote, and he was elected a
member of the House of Burgesses.
This was in 1758, and he continued to serve as a
member for the next fifteen years. There is a
story told of his first appearance in the House.
He was something more than a new member; he
was the late Commander-in-Chief of the Virginia
army, the foremost man, in a military way, in the
province; he had just returned from the successful
expedition against Fort Duquesne. So the House
resolved to welcome him in a manner becoming
so gallant a Virginian, and it passed a vote of
thanks for the distinguished military services he
had rendered the country. The Speaker, Mr.
Robinson, rose when Washington came in to take
his seat, and made a little speech of praise and
welcome, presenting the thanks of the House.
Every one applauded and waited for the tall
colonel to respond. There he stood, blushing,
stammering, confused. He could give his orders
to his men easily enough, and he could even say
what was necessary, to Mrs. Martha Custis; but to
address the House of Burgesses in answer to a vote
of thanks-that was another matter! Not a plain
word could he get out. It was a capital answer,
and the Speaker interpreted it to the House.
Sit down, Mr. Washington," said he. Your
modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the
power of any language I possess."
It was a trying ordeal for the new member, and
if speech-making had been his chief business in
the House, he would have made a sorry failure.
He rarely made a speech, and never a long one,
but for all that he was a valuable member, and
his re-election at every term showed that the
people understood his value. If there was any
work to be done, any important committee to
be appointed, Washington could be counted on,
and his sound judgment, his mature experience,
and sense of honor, made his opinion one which
every one respected. He was always on hand,
punctual, and faithful; and qualities of diligence
and fidelity in such a place, when combined with


sound judgment and honor, are sure to tell in
the long run. He once gave a piece of advice
to a nephew who had also been elected to the
House, and it probably was the result of his own
experience and observation.
The only advice I will offer," he said; if you
have a mind to command the attention of the
House, is to speak seldom but on important sub-
jects, except such as particularly relate to your
constituents ; and, in the former case, make your-
self perfect master of the subject. Never exceed a
decent warmth, and submit your sentiments with
diffidence. A dictatorial style, though it may
carry conviction, is always accompanied with dis-
gust."
It was in January, 1759, that Washington took
his seat in the House, and if he made it his rule
" to speak seldom but on important subjects," he
had several opportunities to speak before he finally
left the Virginia Legislature for a more important
gathering. The first very important subject was
the Stamp Act, in 1765. The British Government
had passed an act requiring the American colo-
nies to place a stamp upon every newspaper or
almanac that was published, upon every marriage
certificate, every will, every deed, and upon other
legal papers. These stamps were to be sold by
officers of the crown, and the money obtained by
the sale was to be used to pay British soldiers sta-
tioned in America to enforce the laws made by
Parliament.
The colonies were aflame with indignation.
They declared that Parliament had no right to
pass such an act; that the Ministry that pro-
posed it was about an unlawful business; and that
it was adding insult to injury to send over soldiers
to enforce such laws. People, when they meet
on the corner of the street and discuss public
matters, are usually much more outspoken than
when they meet in legislatures; but the American
colonists were wont to talk very plainly in their
assemblies, and it was no new thing for the repre-
sentatives, chosen by the people, to be at odds
with the governor, who represented the British
Government. So when Patrick Henry rose up
in the House of Burgesses, with his resolutions
declaring that the Stamp Act was illegal and that
the colony of Virginia had always enjoyed the right
of governing itself, as far as taxation went,-and
when he made a flaming speech which threatened
the King, there was great confusion; and though
his resolutions were passed, there was but a bare
majority.
There is no record of what Washington may
have said or how he voted on that occasion, but
his letters show that he thought the Stamp Act a
very unwise act on the part of Great Britain, and a


506


[MAY,







GEORGE WASHINGTON


piece of oppression. That Act," he says, could
be looked upon in no other light by every person
who would view it in its proper colors." But he
did not rush into a passion over it. Instead, he
studied it coolly, and before it was repealed, wrote
at some length to his wife's uncle, who was living
in London, his reasons for thinking that the Brit-
ish Ministry would gain nothing by pressing the
Stamp Act and other laws which bore hard on
colonial prosperity; for he held that if they would
only see it, the colonies were as necessary to Eng-
land as England to the colonies.
It is difficult for us to-day to put ourselves in the
place of Washington and other men of his time.
Washington was a Virginian, and was one of the
Legislature. He was used to making laws and
providing for the needs of the people of Virginia,
but he was accustomed to look beyond Virginia to






-















PATRICK HENRV.

England. There the King was, and he was one of
the subjects of the King. The King's officers came
to Virginia, and when Washington saw, as he so
often did, a British man-of-war lying in the river
off Mount Vernon, his mind was thrilled with
pleasure as he thought of the power of the empire
to which he belonged. He had seen the British
soldiers marching against the French, and he had
himself served under a British general. He had
an ardent desire to go to England, to see London,
to see the King and his Court, and Parliament, and
the Courts of Justice, and the great merchants who
made the city famous; but as yet he had been
unable to go.
He had seen but little of the other colonies. He
had made a journey to Boston, and that had given
him some acquaintance with men; but wherever


he went, he found people looking eagerly toward
England and asking what the Ministry there would
do about fighting the French on the Western bor-
ders. Though he and others might never have
seen England, it was the center of the world to
them. He thought of the other colonies not so
much as all parts of one great country on this side
of the Atlantic, as each separately a part of the
British Empire.
After all, however, and most of all, he was a
Virginian. In Virginia he owned land. There was
his home, and there his occupation. He was a
farmer, a planter of tobacco and wheat, and it was
his business to sell his products. As for the French,
they were enemies of Great Britain, but they were
also very near enemies of Virginia. They were
getting possession of land in Virginia itself -land
which Washington owned in part; and when he
was busily engaged in driving them out, he did
not have to stop and think of France, he needed
only to think of Fort Duquesne, a few days' march
to the westward.
When, therefore he found the British Govern-
ment making laws which made him pay roundly
for sending his tobacco to market, and taxing him
as if there were no Virginia Legislature to say what
taxes the people could and should pay, he began
to be restless and dissatisfied. England was a
great way off; Virginia was close at hand. He
was loyal to the King and had fought under the
King's officers, but if the King cared nothing for
his loyalty, and only wanted his pence, his loyalty
was likely to cool. His chief resentment, however,
was against Parliament. Parliament was making
laws and laying taxes. But what was Parliament?
It was a body of law-makers in England, just as
the House of Burgesses was in Virginia. To be
sure, it could pass laws about navigation which
concerned all parts of the British Empire; but,
somehow, it made these laws very profitable to
England and very disadvantageous to Virginia.
Parliament, however, had no right to pass such a
law as the Stamp Act. That was making a special
law for the American colonies, and taking away a
right which belonged to the colonial assemblies.
Washington had grown up with an intense love
of law, and in this he was like other American
Englishmen. In England there were very few
persons who made the laws, the vast majority had
nothing to do but to obey the laws. Yet it is among
the makers of laws that the love of law prevails;
and since in America a great many more English-
men had to do with government in colony and in
town than in England, there were more who
passionately insisted upon the law being observed.
An unlawful act was to them an outrage. When
they said that England was oppressing them, and


507







GEORGE WASHINGTON.


making them slaves, they did not mean that they
wanted liberty to do what they pleased, but that
they wanted to be governed by just laws, made by
the men who had the right to make laws. And
that right belonged to the legislatures, to which
they sent representatives.
So it was out of his love of law and justice that
Washington and others protested against the Stamp
Act; and when the act was repealed, they threw up
their hats and hurrahed, not because they now
should not have to buy and use stamps, but be-
cause by repealing the act, Parliament had as much
as said that it was an unlawful act. However, this
was an unwilling admission on the part of Parlia-
ment, which repealed the act, but said at once:
"We can tax you if we choose to."
In fact, Parliament stupidly tried soon after to
prove that it had the right by imposing duties on
tea, paper, glass, and painters' colors. But the
people in the colonies were on the alert. They
had really been governing themselves so long that
now, when Parliament tried to get the power away
from them, they simply went on using their power.
They did this in two ways; the colonial govern-
ments again asserted their rights in the case,
and the people began to form associations, in
which they bound themselves not to buy goods of
England until the offensive act was repealed.
This latter was one of the most interesting move-
ments in the breaking away of the colonies from
England. It was a popular movement; it did not
depend upon what this or that colonial assembly
might do; it was perfectly lawful, and so far as
it was complete it was effective. Yet all the while
the movement was doing more, and what but a
very few detected; it was binding the scattered
people in the colonies together.
Washington took a great deal of interest in these
associations, and belonged to one himself. He
was growing exceedingly impatient of English
misrule, and saw clearly to what it was leading.
" At a time," he says, when our lordly masters in
Great Britain will be satisfied with nothing less
than the deprivation of American freedom, it seems
highly necessary that something should be done to
avert the stroke, and maintain the liberty which
we have derived from our ancestors. But the
manner of doing it to answer the purpose effect-
ually is the point in question. That no man
should scruple, or hesitate a moment, to use arms
in defense of so valuable a blessing, is clearly my
opinion. Yet arms, I would beg leave to add,
should be the last resort. We have already, it is
said, proved the inefficacy of addresses to the
throne, and remonstrances to Parliament. How
far, then, their attention to our rights and privi-
leges is to be awakened or alarmed by starving


their trade and manufactures, remains to be
tried."
He took the lead in forming an association in
Virginia, and he kept scrupulously to his agree-
ment; for when he sent his orders to London, he
was very careful to instruct his correspondents to
send him none of the goods unless the Act of Parlia-
ment had meantime been repealed. As the times
grew more exciting, Washington watched events
steadily. He took no step backward, but he moved
forward deliberately and with firmness. He did not
allow himself to be carried away by the passions of
the time. It was all very well, some said, to stop
buying from England, but let us stop selling also.
They need our tobacco. Suppose we refuse to
send it unless Parliament repeals the Act. Wash-
ington stood out against that except as a final
resource, and for the reason which he stated in a
letter:
"I am convinced, as much as I am of my own existence, that
there is no relief for us but in their distress; and I think, at least I
hope, that there is public virtue enough left among us to deny our-
selves everything but the bare necessaries of life to accomplish this
end. This we have a right to do, and no power upon earth can com-
pel us to do otherwise, till it has first reduced us to the most abject
state of slavery. The stopping of our exports would, no doubt, be
a shorter method than the other to effect this purpose; but if we owe
money to Great Britain, nothing but the last necessity can justify the
non-payment of it; and, therefore, I have great doubts upon this
head, and wish to see the other method first tried, which is legal and
will facilitate these payments."

That is, by the economy necessarily preached,
the people would save money with which to pay
their debts.
Washington had been at the front both in the
House of Burgesses, in his own county, and among
the people generally. He was a member of the
convention called to meet at Williamsburg; and
he was appointed by that convention one of seven
delegates to attend the first Continental Congress
at Philadelphia.

CHAPTER XIV. ,

THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS.

NEAR the end of August, 1774, Patrick Henry
and Edmund Pendleton, two of the delegates from
Virginia to the first Continental Congress, rode
from their homes to Mount Vernon and made
a short visit. Then, on the last day of the month,
Washington mounted his horse also, and the three
friends started for Philadelphia to attend the con-
gress, which was called to meet on the 5th of
September. Pendleton was a dozen years older
than Washington, and Henry was the youngest of
the party. He was the most fiery in speech, and
more than once, in recent conventions, had carried
his hearers away by his bold words. He was the most


[MAY,






GEORGE WASHINGTON.


eloquent man in the colonies,-of rude appear-
ance, but when once wrought up by excitement,
able to pour out a torrent of words.
For my part, I would rather have heard the
speech which Washington made at the convention
in Williamsburg in the August before, when he
rose up to read the resolution which he and his


consumed with indignation at the manner in which
Great Britain was treating the colonies. He was
ready, he said, to raise a regiment of a thousand
men, pay all their expenses, and lead them to Bos-
ton to drive out the King's soldiers.
The three men, therefore, must have talked long
and earnestly as they rode to Philadelphia; for the


-


--










WASHINGTON, PATRICK HENRY, AND EDMUND PENDLETON ON THEIR WAY TO PHILADELPHIA,
AS DELEGATES TO THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS.*
.. . ,2- .






AS IIELEGATRS TO THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS.*


i


neighbors had passed at their meeting in Fairfax from England and set up for themselves.
County. The eloquence of a man who is a famous They were five days on the road, and on Sep-


orator is not quite so convincing as that of a man
of action, who rarely speaks, butwho is finally stirred
by a great occasion. People were used to hearing
Washington say a few words in a slow, hesitating,
deliberate way; and they knew that he had care-
fully considered beforehand what words he should
use. But this time he was terribly in earnest,
and when he had read the resolution, he spoke
as no one had heard him before. He was a
passionate man who had his anger under control;
but when it occasionally burst out, it was as if a
dam to a stream had given way. And now he was


tember the 4th, they breakfasted near Newcastle,
in Delaware, dined at Chester, in Pennsylvania,
and in the evening were in Philadelphia, at the
City Tavern, which stood on Second street,
above Walnut street, and was the meeting-place
of most of the delegates. Washington, however,
though he was often at the City Tavern, had his
lodging at Dr. Shippen's. The Congress met the
next day at Carpenters' Hall, and was in session
for seven weeks. The first two or three days were
especially exciting to the members. There they
were, fifty-one men, from all the colonies save


* The above illustration is reproduced from Irving's "Life of Washington," by kind permission of Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons.


Congress which they
were to attend was the
first one to which all
the colonies were in-
vited to send dele-
gates. It was to con-
sider the cause of the
whole people, and
Virginia was to see in
Massachusetts not a
rival colony, but one
with which she had
common cause. The
last time Washington
had gone over the
road he had been on
an errand to the
King's chief repre-
sentative in America,
the Commander-in-
Chief, Governor Shir-
ley, and one matter
which he had held
very much at heart
had been his own com-
mission as an officer
in His Majesty's army.
He was on a different
errandnow. Still, like
the men who were
most in earnest at that
time, he was thinking
how the colonies could
secure their rights as
colonies, not how they
might break away





GEORGE WASHINGTON.


Georgia, met to consult together-Englishmen
who sang "God save the King," but asked also what
right the King had to act as he had done toward
Boston. They did not know one another well at
the beginning. There was no man among them
who could be called famous beyond his own col-
ony, unless it was George Washington. Up to


CARPENTERS' HALL, PHILADELPHIA,
WHERE THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS ASSEMBLED.

this time the different colonies had lived so apart
from one another, each concerned about its own I
affairs, that there had been little opportunity for a
man to be widely known.
So, as they looked at one another at the City c
Tavern, or at the Carpenters' Hall when they p
met, each man was wondering who would take the t
lead. Virginia was the largest and most impor- s
tant colony. Massachusetts had a right to speak,
because she had called the convention, and be-
cause it was in Boston that the people were suffer- i
ing most from the action of the British Parliament. t
Perhaps the two most conspicuous members at
first were Patrick Henry, of Virginia, and Samuel 1


Adams, of Massachusetts; but in the seven weeks
If the session, others showed their good judgment
and patriotism. Patrick Henry was asked after he
returned to Virginia whom he considered the great-
;st man in the Congress, and he replied: If you
peak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Caro-
ina, is by far the greatest orator ; but if you speak
of solid information and sound judg-
ment, Colonel Washington is un-
questionably the greatest man on the
floor."
Washington carried on the meth-
ods which he had always practiced.
He attended the sessions punctually
and regularly; he listened to what
Others had to say, and gave his own
S opinion only after he had carefully
S formed it. It is an example of the
'I thoroughness with which he made
himself master of every subject, that
he used to copy in his own hand the
important papers which were laid be-
fore Congress, such as the petition to
the King which was agreed upon.
This he would do deliberately and
exactly,-it was like committing the
paper to memory. Besides this, he
i;- r made abstracts of other papers, stat-
ing the substance of them in a few
clear words.
The greater part of each day was
occupied in the Congress, but be-
sides the regular business, there was
a great deal of informal talk among
the members. They were full of the
subject, and used to meet to discuss
affairs at dinner, or in knots about
the fire at the City Tavern. Phila-
delphia was then the most important
city in the country, and there were
-- many men of wide experience living
in it. Washington went everywhere
by invitation. He dined with the
Chief Justice, with the Mayor, and with all the
notable people.
In this way he was able to become better
cquainted both with the state of affairs in other
colonies and with the way the most intelligent
people were thinking about the difficulties of the
ime. The first Continental Congress gave expres-
ion to the deliberate judgment of the colonies
ipon the acts of Great Britain. It protested
against the manner in which Parliament was treat-
ng the colonies. It declared firmly and solemnly
hat as British subjects the people of the colonies
owed no allegiance to Parliament, in which they
iad no representatives; that their own legislatures


[MAY,


5IO






GEORGE WASHINGTON


alone had the right to lay taxes. But after all, the
great advantage of this first Congress was in the
opportunity which it gave for representatives from
the different colonies to become acquainted with
one another, and thus to make all parts of the
country more ready to act together.
It was only now and then that any one suggested
the independence of the colonies. Washington,
like a few others, thought it possible the colonies
might have to arm and resist the unlawful attempt
to force unconstitutional laws upon them; but he
did not, at this time, go so far as to propose a
separation from England. He had a friend among
the British officers in Boston, one of his old com-
rades in the war against France, a Captain Mac-
kenzie, who wrote to him, complaining of the way
the Boston people were behaving. Captain Mac-
kenzie, very naturally, as an officer, saw only a
troublesome, rebellious lot of people whom it was
the business of the army to put down. Washing-
ton wrote earnestly to him, trying to show him the
reason why the people felt as they did, and the
wrong way of looking at the subject which Captain
Mackenzie and other officers had. He expressed
his sorrow that fortune should have placed his
friend in a service that was sure to bring down
vengeance upon those engaged in it. He went on:
"I do not mean by this to insinuate that an officer is not to
discharge his duty, even when chance, not choice, has placed him
in a disagreeable situation; but I conceive, when you condemn the
conduct of the Massachusetts people, you reason from effects, not
causes; otherwise you would not wonder at a people, who are every
day receiving fresh proofs of a systematic assertion of an arbitrary
power, deeply planned to overturn the laws and constitution of their
country, and to violate the most essential and valuable rights of man-
kind, being irritated, and with difficulty restrained from acts of the
greatest violence and intemperance. For my own part, I confess to you
candidly, that I view things in a very different point of light from the
one in which you seem to consider them; and though you are taught
by venal men . to believe that the people of Massachusetts are
rebellious, setting up for independency, and what not, give me leave,
my good friend, to tell you, that you are abused, grossly abused. . .
Give me leave to add, and I think I can announce it as a fact, that
it is not the wish or interest of that government, or any other upon
this continent, separately or collectively, to set up for independence;
but this you may at the same time rely on, that none of them will
ever submit to the loss of those valuable rights and privileges which
are essential to the happiness of every free State, and without which,
life, liberty, and property are rendered totally insecure."

It was with such a belief as this that Washington
went back to Mount Vernon, and while he was
occupied with his engrossing private affairs, busied
himself also with organizing and drilling soldiers.
Independent companies were formed all over Vir-
ginia, and one after another placed themselves
under his command. Although, by the custom
of those companies, each was independent of the
others, yet by choosing the same commander they
virtually made Washington Commander-in-Chief
of the Virginia volunteers. He was the first mili-
tary man in the colony, and every one turned to


him for advice and instruction. So through the
winter and spring, he was constantly on the move,
going to one place after another to review the
companies which had been formed.
I think that winter and spring of 1775 must have
been a somewhat sorrowful one to George Wash-
ington, and that he must have felt as if a great
change were coming in his life. His wife's
daughter had died, and he missed her sadly.
Young John Custis had married and gone away
to live. The sound of war was heard on all
sides, and among the visitors to Mount Vernon
were some who afterward were to be generals in
the American army. He still rode occasionally
after the hounds, but the old days of fun were
gone. George William Fairfax had gone back
to England, and the jolly company at Belvoir was
scattered. The house itself there had caught fire,
and burned to the ground.
But the time for action was at hand. Washing-
ton turned from his home and his fox-hunting to
go to Richmond as a delegate to a second Virginia
convention. It was called to hear the reports of
the delegates to Philadelphia and to see what fur-
ther was to be done. It was clear to some, and to
Washington among them, that the people must be
ready for the worst. They had shown themselves in
earnest by all the drill and training they had been
going through as independent companies. Now let
those companies be formed into a real army. It was
idle to send any
more petitions e
to the King.
We must
fight !" exclaim-
ed Patrick Hen-
ry; I repeat
it, sir; we must
fight An ap-
peal to arms and
the God of Hosts
is all that is left
us !
A committee,
of which 1Wash-
ington was one,
was appointed to 1111,1: 11 YIII I
report a plan for JOHN ADAMS, OF MASSACHUSETTS, WHO
an army of Vir- PROPOSED WASHINGTON FOR COMMANDER-
IN-CIIIEF OF THE CONTINFNTAL ARMIY,
ginia.
But when people make up their minds to fight,
they know very well, if they are sensible, that
more than half the task before them is to find
means for feeding and clothing not only the troops
but the people who are dependent on the troops.
Therefore the convention appointed another com-
mittee, of whicb Washington also was a member,





GEORGE WASHINGTON.


to devise a plan for encouraging manufactures, so
that the people could do without England. Here-
tofore, the Virginians had done scarcely any man-
ufacturing; nearly everything they needed they
had bought from England with tobacco. But if
they were to be at war with England, they must
be making ready to provide for themselves. It
was late in the day to do anything; slavery,
though they did not then see it clearly, had made
a variety of industries impossible. However, the
people were advised to form associations to pro-
mote the raising of wool, cotton, flax, and hemp,
and to encourage the use of home manufactures.
Washington was again chosen one of the dele-
gates to the Continental Congress, for the second
Congress had been called to meet at Philadelphia.
He was even readier to go than before. On the day
when he was chosen, he wrote to his brother John
Augustine Washington: It is my full intention
to devote my life and fortune to the cause we are
engaged in, if needful."
That was at the end of March. The second
Continental Congress was to meet on May lo;
and just before Washington left Mount Vernon
came the news of Lexington and Concord. Curi-
ously enough, the Governor of Virginia had
done just what Governor Gage had attempted to
do; he had seized some powder which was stored
at Fredericksburg, and placed it for safety on board
a vessel of the British navy. The independent
companies at once met and called upon Washing-
ton to take command of them, that they might
compel the Governor to restore the powder.
Washington kept cool. The Governor promised
to restore the powder, and Washington advised
the people to wait to see what Congress would do.
When Congress met, the men who came
together were no longer strangers to one another.
They had parted warm friends the previous fall;
they had gone to their several homes and now had
come back more determined than ever, and more
united. Every one spoke of Lexington and Con-
cord; and the Massachusetts men told how large
an army had already gathered around Boston. But
it was an army made up not only of Massachusetts
men, but of men from Connecticut, Rhode Island
and New Hampshire. It was plain that there must
be some authority over such an army, and the
Provincial Congress of Massachusetts wrote to the
Continental Congress at Philadelphia, advising
that body to assume control of all the forces, to
raise a continental army, appoint a commander,
and do whatever else was necessary to prepare for
war. There had already been fighting; there was
an army; and it was no longer a war between
Massachusetts and Great Britain.


I do not know what other delegates to the Con-
gress at Philadelphia came as soldiers, but there
was one tall Virginian present who wore his mili-
tary coat; and when the talk fell upon appointing
a commander, all eyes were turned toward him.
Every one, however, felt the gravity and delicacy
of the situation. Here was an army adopted by
Congress; but it was a New England army, and
if the struggle were to come at Boston, it was natu-
ral that the troops should mainly come from that
neighborhood. The colonies were widely separ-
ated; they had not acted much together. Would
it not be better, would it not save ill-feeling, if a
New England man were to command this New
England army ?
There were some who thought thus; and besides,
there was still a good deal of difference of opinion
as to the course to be pursued. Some were all
ready for independence; others, and perhaps the
most, hoped to bring the British to terms. Par-
ties were rising in Congress ; petty jealousies were
showing themselves, when suddenly John Adams,
of Massachusetts, seeing into what perplexities
they were drifting, came forward with a distinct
proposition that Congress should adopt the army
before Boston and appoint a commander. He did
not name Washington, but described him as a cer-
tain gentleman from Virginia who could unite
the cordial exertions of all the colonies better than
any other person." No one doubted who was
meant, and Washington, confused and agitated,
left the room at once.
Nothing else was now talked of. The delegates
discussed the matter in groups and small circles,
and a few days afterward a Maryland delegate
formally nominated George Washington to be
Commander-in-Chief of the American Army. He
was unanimously elected, but the honor of bringing
him distinctly before the Congress belongs to John
Adams. It seems now a very natural thing to do,
but really it was something which required wisdom
and courage. When one sums up all Washington's
military experience at this time, it was not great,
or such as to point him out as unmistakably the
leader of the American army. There was a gen-
eral then in command at Cambridge, who had seen
more of war than Washington had. But Washing-
ton was the leading military man in Virginia, and
it was for this reason that John Adams, as a New
England man, urged his election. The Congress
had done something to bring the colonies together;
the war was to do more, but probably no single
act really had a more far-reaching significance
in making the Union, than the act of nominating
the Virginian Washington by the New England
Adams.


(To be continued.)


[MAY,


512






T .- ,,. I-
-\ ,


t i
S '. -I-- \1



-t-I, ,
I- I 'I -^ I U T !






BY HELEN GRAY CONE.

THE Puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad The sweet-faced maidens trembled, with pretty,
for church; pinky blushes,
A Thrush, white-breasted, o'er them sat singing Convinced that it was wicked to listen to the
on his perch. Thrushes;
"Happy be for fair are ye! the gentle singer And when, that shady afternoon, I chanced
told them. that way to pass,


But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up
to scold them.
" Vanity, oh, vanity !
Young maids, beware of vanity! "
Grumbled out the buff-coat Bee,
Half parson-like, half soldierly.


They hung their little bonnets down and looked
into the grass.
All because the buff-coat Bee
Lectured them so solemnly: -
" Vanity, oh, vanity !
Young maids, beware of vanity "


VOL. XIII.-33.






[MAY,


514


CONRAD was not a prince, not even a lord; he resolved to be very respectful, to do just as he was
was only an ordinary boy. He should have been bidden, and to wait very patiently for the little old
on his way to school; but, having a talent for do- man to speak first.
ing nothing, he was wandering about the fields and Presently the little old man shifted the pipe for
little strips of woodland, amusing himself by watch- a moment, and asked:
ing the birds skim through the air. He hadlately What are those books that you are carrying ? "
been reading a volume of fairy-tales, and as he "They are my school-books," said Conrad;
walked along he began to wonder whether there "but I am tired of going to school, and I wish to
really was a bit of truth in any of them. go with the fairies "
He kept on thinking so intently about it, that he The little old man smiled a benevolent smile,


.." B.C


F if ** .2 '.
'In *' ~- '.


"HE BECKONED TO CONRAD, WHO CROSSED THE STREAM ON A SLIGHT PLANK BRIDGE."


did not notice how near he was to a little brook,
until he found himself almost on the point of tum-
bling into the water. This put a stop to his won-
dering, for the next moment he stood staring in
astonishment, not at the water, but at a little old
man who was sitting on the roots of a large tree
that grew on the opposite bank of the stream. He
was dressed in a very curious fashion. On his
head he had a tall steeple-crowned hat, in which
were placed two long peacock's feathers.
The little old man sat looking very attentively
at Conrad, and seemed to derive a great deal of
comfort from a long pipe, which he was enjoying
so energetically that all around him the air was
filled with smoke. At last he beckoned to Con-
rad, who crossed the stream on a slight plank
bridge, and advanced toward him.
By that time, Conrad had leaped to the conclu-
sion, in his own mind, that the very queer-looking
old gentleman was an enchanter, and so he had


and exclaimed: Oh Then he shifted his pipe
again, and said quickly:
Give me the school-books."
Conrad did so, at once.
The little old man then opened a spelling-book,
and turned to the fly-leaf.
Conrad," said he.
Conrad started, for he wondered how the little
man had learned his name. He himself had not
once mentioned it. He was sure now that the
queer little person was an enchanter.
So, Conrad," said the little old man again,
"you wish to go to the fairies, do you? Well,
you may go; but you must leave your books with
me until you come back."
Conrad's attention was now attracted by a raven,
which he saw standing beside the enchanter, and
which he had not noticed before.
Turning to the bird, the enchanter said: Give
me my key."


HOW CONRAD LOST HIS SCHOOL-BOOKS.



HOW CONRAD LOST HIS SCHOOL-BOOKS.

BY WALTER BOBBETT.






,886.] HOW CONRAD LOST HIS SCHOOL-BOOKS. 515


The raven hopped from a large key upon which
it had been standing, and taking it in its beak,
presented it to its master.
Conrad wished to ask if the raven would bite,












and whether it could do any better trick than carry-
ing a key; but he thought this might be considered
an impertinent question, so he said nothing.
Take this key," saidthe little old man, "and be
careful not to lose it. Walk on until you come to
the edge of yonder forest; pass straight through the
wood, and when you arrive at the other side, you will
behold a castle not far distant. You may find it dif-
ficult to gain admission; but you must persevere.
As to what will happen afterward, I may not tell you
now. One word more, and then begone; should
you ever need my assistance, blow down the key."
Conrad was so astonished at all he had seen and
heard, that he hardly knew what to do; but as the
little old man pointed in the direction of the forest,
Conrad bade him good-day, and walked away to
follow the orders he had received.
He kept on until he came to the forest, which
he entered. It seemed so quiet and dark, that he
would have been frightened, had he not remem-
bered that, in case of danger, he could depend on
assistance from the enchanter.
At last he reached the end of the wood, and
about a mile beyond, he saw the castle with its
gilded dome and all its windows shining in the sun-
light. This sight cheered him, and he walked on
till he came to the gateway. He found the great
gates wide open; and no one prevented his enter-
ing, as it happened to be a day on which the King
received petitions from those of his subjects who
wished to present any.
He passed on through the large court-yard, key
in hand, and instead of going in at the entrance
to the court, he entered a little side door and as-
cended a winding stairway. Up he went, higher
and higher, till it seemed as if the stairway would
never end, when suddenly he came face to face
with an official who was descending.
"What business have you here?" asked the
officer.
Conrad could not answer; so the man gently
took hold of his ear and led him down the stairs


again, varying the monotony of the long descent
by giving the ear a severe pinch at every seventh
step. Out through the court-yard they passed, the
bystanders all cheering and laughing; out of the
gate again; and with one final pinch, the boy was
left sobbing on the roadway.
Poor Conrad had, indeed, found it difficult to
gain admission to the castle. Drying his tears,
however, he began to walk around the outside of
the building, until at last he came to a ladder that
was leaning against a window.
The very thing said he; it must have been
left here on purpose for me."
Up he climbed, slipped in at the window, and
dropped quietly to the floor.
He found himself in a large hall, through which
he walked until he came to an archway at the
farther end. Before the archway hung an em-
broidered curtain. Conrad pushed it aside, and
entered a richly decorated room, at the end of
which stood a throne. Around it were assembled
many nobles, pages, and guards, who were await-
ing the return of the King from hunting.
Few of them looked at Conrad. Some seemed
to cast a scornful side-glance at him, and one even
told him to go back by the way he had come.
Conrad was not a whit daunted, however, and
boldly holding up his key, so that every one could
see it, he walked up to a portly-looking gentle-
man, who was dressed in black velvet and who
wore a golden chain around his neck. Conrad
asked him what he was to do. The portly gen-
tleman stared at him. Conrad asked if any of the
company were enchanted; "because," said he, "if
they are, I '11 disenchant them with my key."
"Enchanted?" said the gentleman in black.
"What do you mean? Why do you bother me
about enchantment?"
Conrad began to feel a little nervous, and to
think that they did not seem at all like enchanted
folk; at least, they did not act like any he had
read about in his books.
The enchanter had told him that he would meet
with difficulties, but, despite his confidence, he
could not help getting very red in the face. And
by this time, all the gentlemen, except the one
dressed in black, were smiling.
Suddenly, Conrad remembered what the little
old man had said about whistling down the key.
Happy thought! He at once rushed up in front of
the portly gentleman with the black velvet suit and
the golden chain, and began to whistle in the key
as hard as he could.
But, at this performance, the nobles all stopped
smiling and looked first at one another, and then
at Conrad, with very grave faces; one even put
his hand upon his sword.





HOW CONRAD LOST HIS SCHOOL-BOOKS.


Now, it happened that the
velvet was a Grand Duke an
of the kingdom. At that mor
over some important question
sight of Conrad
.r fr ,i r

l'i:' . -i

: .- ,
- " -
,I f : .


II'



ii i
'1
i4- i-


ii


gentleman in black picked himself up, he concluded, notwithstanding
d the Prime Minister the difficulties he had encountered, that he would
nent he was thinking try once more to gain admission to the castle. So
n of state, and the he arose and walked toward a door which he saw
whistling and caper- a few paces distant.
1,,,. i,1: .,: H : ri cr.- th,.: 1.:...1 pr -.l... H e pushed
..... i, i,: .. ,i : ,,:- -.i : i ..r. i.l I :, i. ii -sed dow n
,. i :. ",!-,_i . if. .: .; i j l- r: iI-.,: i.n...:l I. ,:,_! ri a d a rk
.i,:.,l :, Lt ', ,r.r. .:!. -:" ii' ,:l .i i. i ,l,: l'l,,,: ," j: -!,i: ,, ,i'! I.,,, *..,- an d sm all
i _:r li, ].,.,.n I',,, L, I_,. l i, ,:,',:1 .h h. _l r ,, M : .d h r.:::king som e
, 1 1: i.,. ..t i ,Ii. i i l..:.r l..: r I. r .r.....l i I i .r i-1 : .,;_; an to feel
i,.. r. I, !,,,i .. ... 1.. I' tT.,_ :, I:, 1,. ,.I~ r, _...1 r.I ri-,,: r. i. o f a b a r-
-- lirr.: i I .I. i" .."..1.i r., : I !.vp-.., hi : posi3ition and
. -... : . . .. h : .:,,ii. h n .. i .. ur ..: l i-i, h t. S ud-
:--- ". "" .... i-i,. .,l: lI, [1,,. I -, i- .- l- L t:.td ..t ,: :i .,.1,,_ before he
h] !_: r ,...,1 .,.: r,:, i .i, r i i : :, -. .,.,i ,_ 1. u i, r.. h is k n ees,


either be ill or
very deaf,"thought 1
Conrad, and he was
just making up his
mind that something
was wrong, when all doubts on the
subject were removed by the Grand
Duke, who advanced toward him, picked him up
by the collar of his jacket, and, carrying him to a
window, quietly dropped him out.
Poor Conrad was very much shaken by his
fall, and for a time was so dazed that he could
hardly realize what had happened. In a little
while, he began to collect his thoughts; but as he


S- ii: :...tpowder. He
:r,,i 1.;r l :-' to free him-
S :!-I. i-.i ..nly upset the
w -r: I -.I covered him-
5l self from
P, ,--- .,'- headtofoot
t : withflouror
S"' ''I'',l fine meal.
W_.__ --.,-- At last he
S called for
''-" ' II assistance;
'-. -' and a door,
ii '---- that he had
not noticed
until then,
opened, and a girl of about his own age came into
the cellar, and asked what was the matter.
"I 've tumbled into something; please come
and help me out," cried Conrad.
She hurried to him, and with her aid he at
last succeeded in freeing himself.
After brushing the dust from his hair and


[MAY,






HOW CONRAD LOST HIS SCHOOL-BOOKS.


his clothes, he followed where his new friend led
the way, and entered a kitchen, thinking that with-
out doubt he was now in the presence of an en-
chanted princess, who must have been waiting
many years for some one to disenchant her. "To
be sure," thought he, "I am not a prince; but
then that does not so much matter; there is no
telling but I may be one, some day; so he decided
to ask the maiden how she had become enchanted.
Beautiful Princess," exclaimed he,-- and he
was just attempting a very fine speech in the best
fairy-story manner, when the young girl laughed,
and told him to be seated, and asked him if he
would like to have a pie. Conrad was astonished
by this question from an enchanted princess; but,
without waiting for his reply, the girl walked to-
ward a table on which stood a number of mince-pies,
and, taking up one of them, she placed it before
Conrad.
That was not the way in which an enchanted
princess was supposed to act; but as Conrad was
very hungry, he did not express his surprise, but
turned his attention to the pie. While he was
eating, the princess busied herself with beating
some eggs in a large bowl, and before he knew it,
Conrad found that he had eaten all the pie.
Then they talked about the weather and what-
ever else they happened to think of; and at last,
Conrad asked her how long she had been en-
chanted.
What! exclaimed the princess.
He repeated his question.
Why, what do you mean ? said she.
He was just about explaining, when tramp,
tramp, tramp! "-the noise of feet was heard com-
ing down the stairs. The princess jumped up,
and cried:
"Oh, run! Run quickly! I shall be punished
if they find that I have given you a pie "
Oh, no," said Conrad; do not be frightened!
I will protect you from them. I came to this
castle on purpose to rescue you."
But I do not want to be rescued said she.
Do go, at once "
Tramp, tramp Nearer and nearer came the
sound,- almost to the bottom of the stairs. Con-
rad felt for his key.
Oh, dear he exclaimed, I must have lost
my key when I fell into the barrel! I never noticed
that I was without it till now. All is lost! Adieu,
good Princess !"
Good-bye," said she; "only go "
He jumped upon a table, and climbed out of the


window. It was all that was left for him to do.
After he was outside of the building, he turned,
and waving his hand to the princess, begged her
to remember him.
I will come back to you, if I ever get my key
again," he said; "and then I '11 disenchant you."
At that moment the kitchen door opened, and
Conrad saw a great light. It might have been a
bull's-eye lantern, but Conrad was sure that it was
a dragon that was pointing its fiery eye at him.
Oh, the poor princess said he. If only I
had my key!"
Then, as the light flashed full at him, he be-'
came so frightened that he turned and ran for the
gate as hard as he could. He made his way across
the courtyard much faster than when he had come
in, and soon he had left the castle far behind.
The houses began to be farther apart and to have
a more rustic appearance. He heard a cart com-
ing along the road.
Please give me aride he cried to the driver.
"Yes, I will," said the man; "jump in." And
Conrad clambered into the cart.
You look tired," said the driver. Lie down
on that blanket and rest yourself."
Conrad gladly did as he was told and, feeling
much fatigued after his adventures, he was soon
fast asleep.
He did not awake until he felt himself carried
out of the cart, and was just enough awake to know
that all the inmates of his father's house, together
with a few of the neighbors, were crowding about
and asking him where he had been. And that
was all he noticed, for the next moment he was
off to sleep again, and was carried upstairs and
put to bed.
He did not feel very well the next morning, so
the doctor was called in, who advised that he
should remain in the house for a few days, as he
had a slight fever.
While at home, he told his aunt what had hap-
pened to him; but she only patted his head, and
told him that he must have been dreaming. But
this Conrad refused to believe.
When he recovered, however, he became a much
better boy, more quiet and attentive to his studies;
and it may be mentioned that, whenever any one
told a fairy-tale, he wore a very solemn face, took
a back seat, and said nothing.
It is not known whether he still believes in fairies;
but one thing is certain -he never saw the little
old enchanter again, nor the school-books that he
had left with him.






518 A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF. [MAY,


BLOSSOM-TIME.

BY L. E. R.


SNOW, snow, down from the apple-trees,
Pink and white drifting of petals sweet!
Kiss her and crown her our Lady of Blossoming,
There as she sits on the apple-tree sweet!

Has she not gathered the summer about her?
See how it laughs from her lips and her eyes !
Think you the sun there would shine on with-
out her?
Nay! 'Tis her smile keeps the gray from the skies !


Fire of the rose, and snow of the jessamine,
Gold of the lily-dust hid in her hair;
Day holds his breath and Night comes up to
look at her,
Leaving their strife for a vision so rare.

Snow, snow, down from the apple-trees,
Pink and white drifting of petals sweet !
Kiss her, and crown her, and flutter down her,
And carpet the ground for her dear little feet!


A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF.

BY ALICE MAY.


EARLY one morning, a palanquin carried by
native bearers, and containing as passengers Mr.
Steedman, an English missionary, and his little son
Harry, was proceeding up the one street of Bifo-
rAna, a queer little bamboo village on the island
of Madagascar, situated about midway between
Antananarivo, the capital, and the eastern coast.


Comparatively little is known of Madagascar,
although the unsuccessful attempt of France to
obtain possession of it drew interest and attention
to it not many months ago. There are but two
larger islands in the world. As many of you know,
it lies some two hundred and fifty miles to the
east of the African coast, is nine hundred and





1886.] A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF. 519


eighty miles long and two hundred and fifty wide, and so, out of the village, and through the swamp
and is therefore nearly four times as large as of Bifordna, the procession moved until the mire
England and Wales combined.
The Oueen of this island king-
*dom is a young woman with the
curious name of Rasendranovo "
Ranavalo III. She succeeded to
the throne in 1883. She is a
Christian, as is also a large part of
the population of her realm; and /
there are numerous missionary .
stations throughout the island.
Harry Steedman's father was
one of these missionaries, and
Harry himself was accustomed
to traveling by palanquin, since -
there are no roads nor carriages
to be found in Madagascar. +7<'
The palanquin was an oblong
basket of bamboo, lined with
plaited sheepskin. The ends of the long U)
poles or handles rested upon the shoulders
of four Madagascan bearers, while four others ac- became
companies these as a relay. Under the palanquin so thick
that the


PASSING A GROVE OF PALMS KNOWN AS THE 'TRAVELER'S TREE.'
hood of woven palm-cloth, Mr. Steedman reclined
comfortably, while Harry nestled cozily at his feet;


palan-
quin could not be
carried with ease. PALANQUIN TRAVELING BECOMES
UNCOMIFPORTABLE.
As the next best UNCOMFORTABLE
mode of conveyance, the two passengers were then
transferred to the shoulders of two stout natives.
Mr. Steedman had started upon an expedition in
search of the beautiful lace-leaf plant, or water-
yam, of Madagascar, which he was told grew in the
forests beyond Biforana, and which he was very
desirous of finding in its native state. Harry, af-
ter urgent solicitation, had been allowed to accom-
panyhis father; but, as he clung to the neck of his
swarthy bearer, the little fellow found that there
was not, after all, so much fun in the trip as he
had expected. And later on, when the palanquin,
in which they were soon seated again, was tossed
and bumped by the slipping and stumbling of the
bearers as they climbed a very steep hill-side, he
began almost to wish himself at home.
After passing a grove of the stately palms known
as the "traveler's tree," they found themselves on
a path that led to the bank of a river. They
endeavored to ford it, but speedily found that
the danger from deep holes and ugly-looking croc-
odiles was too great for them to proceed. So
Raheh, the chief bearer, uttered a curious cry, or
signal, which soon brought into view a rlkana, or
canoe, rudely fashioned from a hollow tree-trunk;
and in it a native was paddling rapidly toward them.
Harry and his father stepped into the rather
shaky-looking craft not without misgivings, but






A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF.


they were soon safely landed on the other shore. Here and there among the cool green and gray tints
When all had been thus ferried across and the of leaves and moss some tropical flowers and fruits
gleamed forth in bright
flashes of scarlet and gold.
Myriads of frail wood-
blossoms hid their pale
heads under the feathery
ferns that clustered about
the roots ofthe trees, and the
dead palms were tenderly
shrouded in waxy-leaved
climbing vines, their grace-
ful fallen crowns replaced
by masses of green ferns,
intermingled with the faint
pink and blue tints of some
rare orchid. On every side
were little groves of bam-
Sboo, their light-green
fringes contrasting with the
darker fronds of the stately
tree-fern.
Absolute silence reigned
throughout this solitude,
and Harry began to be so
oppressed by the stillness
as to grow fearful of danger.
But his father explained
that during the wet season,
in which they were travel-
ing, insect life in these trop-
ical forests is asleep, and
Harry himself knew that
there were but few wild
animals in Madagascar. In-
deed, with the exception of
that curious animal, part
fox, part squirrel, and part
THE LACE-LEAF OF MADAGASCAR. monkey, that is peculiar to
Madagascar and is called,
native boatman had been paid, the party entered from its prowling habits and ghostly appearance,
the great forest of Alamazaotra, which covers more the lemur, or ghostly visitor," the great island
than forty miles of wild and mountainous country. possesses no large native quadrupeds. The hump-
Their path at once led them through a gorge so backed African cattle and the singular fat-tailed
narrow that the sides of the palanquin grazed the sheep, now common throughout the island, were
rocky walls, and the masses of tangled foliage, not originally found in Madagascar, but were taken
meeting far above their heads, almost entirely ob- over from Africa.
scured the light. The bearers paused for breath The bearers of the palanquin clambered on,
after climbing the steep ascent that led from this now over steep and moss-covered rocks, now cross-
gloomy pass, and Harry and his father exclaimed ing sluggish streams on slippery stepping-stones,
in wonder at the strange beauty of the wild trop- or sliding down precipices, until poor Harry was so
ical forest. rattled and shaken and tossed and tumbled that he
Gigantic palms upheld around their stately heads declared he did n't know his head from his heels.
a leafy dome closely interlaced by clinging vines. But, at last, a break occurred in the long stretch
Long garlands of moss and climbing plants crossed of rock and forest, and as the bearers paused upon
and recrossed this lofty roof, and from its shadowy a piece of level ground, for a moment's rest, Raheh
arches great masses of gray moss hung suspended. suddenly uttered the joyful cry of "rano/" (water)


[MAY,


520






A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF.


and all, on listening, distinguished the sound of a
rushing stream.
Urged on by Raheh, the bearers pushed ahead,
and soon stood upon the banks of a beautiful river,
dashing merrily along over rocks and fallen trees,
until with a leap it disappeared in the shadows of
the vast forest. Upon the farther side was grouped
a little village of the clay huts belonging to the
friendly Hovas, and beyond the village stretched
green fields of waving rice. The "Hovas" are
the governing race in the island, and are the most
civilized. Their capital city of Antananarivo, in
the center of the island, is a well-built city of over
1oo,ooo inhabitants.
A tree had fallen across the stream, with its
head resting upon the opposite bank, and this
natural bridge was entirely covered with pink, blue
and white flowers of the waxy orchid. This beau-
tiful sight, however, was unnoticed by Harry and
his father, for in the water at their feet was the
object of their search, the Lattice or Lace leaf.
The lace-leaf plant, or fresh water-yam as it is
sometimes called because of its potato-shaped or
yam-like root, is found in many of the rivers of
Madagascar. The difficulty of obtaining it, how-
ever, makes it a rare plant to Europeans; and
when, a few days before, Mr. Steedman had rec-
ognized in some "roasted potatoes," as Harry


the beautiful forest river. As soon as they recog-
nized it, both Mr. Steedman and his son were on
the ground in an instant, and bending eagerly
above the clear stream. The water was so pure
and limpid that every pebble could be counted,
and in the cool, bright current they saw, to their
delight, a perfect labyrinth of lace-work. Dozens
of lace-leaves, green, gold, olive, and brown, were
floating just beneath the surface of the water.
"Oh, Papa! did you ever see anything so
lovely ? said Harry, excitedly.
Mr. Steedman could take but a one-sided view
of those wonderful leaves, as one glass from his
spectacles had been lost during their rough jour-
ney; but the remaining glass fairly sparkled with
satisfaction.
"Ah, my son, this plant is both lovely and rare.
See, the young leaves are light green and yel-
low; the older leaves are darker,-shades of green
and olive. A few are even black, and all growing
from the same root. How perfect is every leaf, in
spite of its delicate texture Some of those larger
leaves must be ten or twelve inches long. The
strong midrib in each serves as a support for
the fragile threads forming the meshes on each
side."
Harry now plunged his hand into the lace-like
web, half expecting it to dissolve in his grasp. But


.... .








J12







MADAGASCAN DRINKING-CUP FORIMIED FROM A LEAF OF THE "TRAVELER'S TREE."


called the pleasant-tasting vegetable that one of
his boyish Madagascan friends had given him to eat,
the edible root of the lace-leaf plant, the missionary
had determined to make a careful search for the
plant so prized by naturalists. And now at last
he had found it, bobbing backward and forward in
a fantastic dance just above the eddying waters of


no! The wiry little yellow leaf which he raised
from the water, was perfect in form, and a gleam of
sunlight, falling upon the shining meshes, trans-
formed them into threads of glistening gold.
He now discovered, as he examined them
carefully, that the under surfaces of the leaves
were glistening with little pearly bubbles of air.


521





THE CARICATURE PLANT.


-- -
-


I-
I-






RAHEH, THE GUIDE.

Oh, Papa," he cried, joyously holding the glis-
tening meshes aloft, "the lace-leaves are jeweled!"


Yes, Harry," said his father, those diamond
drops are made by the breathing of the plant."
Mr. Steedman attempted to detach a root of one
of the plants from its bed of mud, but the little
tendrils branching from it on every side held the
root firmly in its place. At last he succeeded in
extricating the little white threads, one by one,
and removed the entire plant to the bank. Its
root, which is eaten in Madagascar, was very like
the ginger root, and had a tough, light-brown
skin.
Harry carefully placed the leaves of the plant
in his herbarium, while his father packed the
root, with its native soil, in a tin case, prepa-
ratory to sending it to the Botanical Society in
London.
Harry," he said, as they finished their work,
" this plant could be easily reared in our green-
houses-heat and moisture being all that is
required. But nature seems to have jealously
surrounded these beautiful leaves with almost
impassable barriers, and the lace-plant is compar-
atively unknown.
But come, my boy Raheh says 'maly-massan-
dro' (the sun is dead), and it will be as long as
'two cooking of rice' (two half hours) before we
can be ferried across to yonder village and secure
a place to pass the night."
And so, after Raheh had given Harry one last
drink from the clear, cool river, in the odd-looking
leaf-cup he carried for the purpose, the tired but
successful lace-leaf hunters crossed over to the
Hova village and were soon fast asleep.


THE CARICATURE PLANT.

BY M. A.


ONE of the most remarkable plants in the whole
vegetable kingdom is that known to botanists as
the Justicia Picta, which has also been well named
" The Caricature Plant."
At first sight, it appears to be a heavy, large-
leafed plant, with purple blossoms, chiefly remark-
able for the light-yellow centers of its dark-green
leaves, which cause them to look as if some acid
had been spilled upon them and taken the color
out wherever it had touched.
As I stood looking at this odd plant and thinking
what a sickly, blighted appearance the queer, yel-
low stains gave it, I was suddenly impressed with
the fact that the plant was making faces at me.
Still, unaccustomed as I was to seeing plants


indulge in this strictly human amusement, I was
slow to believe it, and stooped to read the some-
what illegible inscription on the card below the
plant--"Justicia Picta, or Caricature Plant.'"
My first impression was correct then. This curious
shrub had indeed occupied itself in growing up in
ridiculous caricatures of the human face divine,"
until it now stood, covered from the topmost leaf
down, with the queerest faces imaginable. Nature
had taken to caricaturing. The flesh-colored pro-
files stood out in strong relief against the dark-
green of the leaves.
A discovery of one of these vegetable marks
leads to an examination of a second and a third leaf,
until all are scanned as closely and curiously as the


[MAY,






THE CARICATURE PLANT.


leaves of the comic papers that form the caricature
plants of the literary kingdom.
What a valuable plant this would be for one of
our professional caricaturists to have growing in
his conservatory When an order was sent to him
for a speaking likeness" of some unhappy poli-
tician, he could simply visit his Justicia Picta with
pencil and paper in hand, and look over the leaves
for a suitable squint, grin, or distorted nose to
sketch from. He could, moreover, affirm with truth
that the portrait was taken from nature." Cuth-
bert Collingwood, the celebrated naturalist, says
of the Justicia Picta: "One of these plants in the
garden of Gustave Dor6 would be worth a fortune
to him, supplying him with a never-failing fund
of grotesque physiognomies, from which he might
illustrate every serio-comic romance ever written."
I have never heard of the cultivation of the Cari-
cature Plant in this country; but botanists tell us
that it is a hardy shrub. I think we should be glad
to see the funny faces on its leaves. After all the
lovely flowers we are called upon to admire, I am
sure that a plant evidently intended to make us
laugh would receive a warm welcome from our
young people.
The Chinese appreciate the Caricature Plant.
and in some parts of China it is quite extensively
cultivated. Perhaps some of the funny, grinning
faces on Chinese toys and ornaments are repro-
ductions of the grotesque features on the leaves of
the plant.
Finally, I must assure any unbelieving readers of
ST. NICHOLAS that neither in this account of a
very remarkable plant, nor in the accompanying
illustration, has the writer drawn upon imagination.


The Justicia Picta really exists. It is a native
of the East Indies, and is a source of much amuse-
ment and curiosity to both botanists and travelers.


VEGETABLE CLOTHING.

BY C. J. RUSSELL.


ABOUT two hundred years ago the governor of
the island of Jamaica, Sir Thomas Lynch, sent
to King Charles II. of England a vegetable neck-
tie, and a very good necktie it was, although it
had grown on a tree and had not been altered
since it was taken from the tree. It was as soft
and white and delicate as lace, and it is not sur-
prising that the King should have expressed his
doubts when he was told that the beautiful fabric
had grown on a tree in almost the exact condition
in which he saw it. It had been stretched a little,
and that was all.


But if King Charles was astonished to learn that
neckties grew on trees in Jamaica, what must have
been the feelings of a stranger traveling in Cen-
tral America, on being told that mosquito-nets
grew on trees in that country ? He had complained
to his host that the mosquitoes had nearly eaten
him up the night before, and had been told in re-
sponse that he should have a new netting put over
his bed.
Satisfied with this statement, the traveler was
turning away, but his attention was arrested by
his host's calmly continuing, "in fact, we are go-


THE CARICATURE PLANT


a886.1






VEGETABLE CLOTHING.


ing to strip a tree anyhow, because there is to be a
wedding on the estate, and we wish to have a dress
ready for the bride."


You don't mean," said the traveler incredu-
lously, "that mosquito-netting and bridal dresses
grow on trees, do you ? "


That is just what I mean," replied his host.
All right," said the stranger, who fancied a
joke was being attempted at his expense, "let me
see you gather the fruit and I
will believe you."
"Certainly," was the answer;
"follow the men, and you will
see that I speak the exact truth."
Still looking for some jest, the
stranger followed the two men
who were to pluck the singular
fruit, and stood by when they
stopped at a rather small tree,
bearing thick, glossy-green leaves,
Sbut nothing else which the utmost
effort of the imagination could
convert into the netting or the
wedding garments. The tree was
about twenty feet high and six
inches in diameter, and its bark
looked much like that of a birch-
tree.
Is this the tree? asked the
stranger.
"Yes, senior," answered one of
the men, with a smile.
I don't see the mosquito-
netting nor the wedding-dress,"
said the stranger, "and I can't
see any joke either."
If the senior will wait a few
minutes he will see all that was
promised, and more too," was
the reply. "He will see that this
tree can bear not only mosquito-
netting and wedding-dresses, but
~ fish-nets and neck-scarfs, mourn-
I ing crape or bridal veils."
The tree was without more ado
cut down. Three strips of bark,
each about six inches wide and
eight feet long, were taken from
the trunk and thrown into a
S stream of water. Then each man
took a strip while it was still in
the water, and with the point of
his knife separated a thin layer
of the inner bark from one end
of the strip. This layer was then
-- taken in the fingers and gently
pulled, whereupon it came away
in an even sheet of the entire
width and length of the strip of
bark. Twelve sheets were thus
taken from each strip of bark, and thrown into the
water.
A light broke in upon the stranger's mind.


[MAY,





VEGETABLE CLOTHING.


Without a doubt these strips were to be sewn to-
gether into one sheet. The plan seemed a good
one and the fabric thus formed might do, he
thought, if no better cloth could be had.
The men were not through yet, however, for
when each strip of bark had yielded its twelve
sheets, each sheet was taken from the water and
gradually stretched sidewise. The spectator could
hardly believe his eyes. The sheet broadened and
broadened until from a close piece of material six
inches wide, it became a filmy cloud of delicate lace,
over three feet in width. The astonished gentle-
man was forced to confess that no human-made
loom ever turned out lace which could surpass in
snowy whiteness and gossamer-like delicacy that
product of nature.
The natural lace is not so regular in formation
as the material called illusion, so much worn
by ladies in summer; but it is as soft and white,
and will bear washing, which is not true of illusion.


In Jamaica and Central America, this wonderful lace
is put to all the uses mentioned by the native to our
traveler, and to more uses besides. In fact, among
the poorer people it supplies the place of manufact-
ured cloth, which they can not afford to buy ; and
the wealthier classes do not by any means scorn it
for ornamental use.
Long before the white man found his way to
this part of the world, the Indians had known and
used this vegetable cloth; so that what was so
new and wonderful to King Charles and Governor
Sir Thomas Lynch was an old story to the natives.
Some time after King Charles received his vege-
table necktie, Sir Hans Sloane, whose art-collec-
tion and library were the foundation of the British
Museum, visited Jamaica. He described the tree
fully, and was the first person who told the civilized
world about it. The tree is commonly called the
lace-bark tree. Its botanical name is Lagetto
lintearia.


WOE TO THE FOREIGN DOLLY!


THE PET GREYHOUND RESOLVES INDIGNANTLY THAT THE JAPANESE "MUST GO!"


I886.]


525






[MAY,


526


ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.

X.-A CLEVER LITTLE YELLOW DOG. would slink shame-facedly to his special corner
and from there watch me until I would call him


BY JOHN R. CORYELL.

ONE cold winter night, not long ago, I took pity
on a poor little dejected-looking yellow puppy,
and invited him into my house. Having once
taken him in, it was quite out of the question to
think of turning him out again. I was not afraid
that I might be robbing anybody, for he was
the kind of dog that very few persons care to
have. He was dirty-yellow in color, very lank of
body, and he seemed to be made up of ill-assorted
parts of different kinds of dogs. His legs, partic-
ularly, seemed intended for some other dog and
acted as if they never would become reconciled to
carrying the queer body to which they were joined.
I should have preferred a handsome dog, but
since I had no choice, I determined to do my
duty by the little outcast, and to give him such
an education that in the beauties of his mind the
ugliness of his body would be overlooked.
The first thing needed for him was a name; and
I tried to think of something appropriate, but soon
gave it up, and in default of a better title called
him Bob. To teach him the name was easy. I
merely called out the word "Bob!" every time
I fed him. As it was important that he should learn
to look to me as the source of all his happiness and
instruction, I permitted no one else to feed him.
It took him about a week to learn his name, and
to recognize the fact that all the blandishments he
could lavish on the cook would be of no avail,
and that his only hope was in me.
At the very outset, I had made up my mind that
under no circumstances should he receive angry
words or blows. He was a broken-spirited, affec-
tionate little puppy, and I was resolved that if there
was no way of teaching him except by brutality,
he should remain ignorant all his life. The abject
way in which, to this day, he runs from a child
makes me feel sad. I fancy that much of his early
life was spent in dodging stones or snowballs thrown
by boys-not cruel, but thoughtless boys.
It was necessary to control him, and I quickly
discovered an easy way. He was such a sensitive
little fellow that when he once learned to love me,
he seemed to know by the tones of my voice
whether I was pleased with him, and to have me
pleased seemed to be the one object of his life.
Therefore, if I saw him doing anything wrong, I
had only to say sharply and firmly, No, Bob "
and down would go the tail and ears, and he


to me and pat his head.
After a while, a quiet No, Bob would effect
the same result. This was a great victory, and
made most of the subsequent teaching merely a
matter of patience.
The first real lesson was when I undertook to
make him sit up. If he had only known what I
wished him to do, he would gladly have done
it; but the words Sit up !" meant nothing to
him. He was almost too willing, for when I took
hold of him to put him into a sitting position, he
became as limp as a wet rag, and seemed to be
trying to put himself into a condition to be twisted
into any shape I chose.
Then I put him into a corner and set him up,
saying continually, Sit up Sit up !" I held him
up for a while and then took my hand away, but
at once he collapsed as if all the stiffening had
suddenly left his back-bone. Then I showed him
a piece of sugar, of which he was very fond, and
immediately he was himself again. Once more,
and many times more, I put him in position in
the corner, until at last, seemingly by accident, he
failed to fall over when I took my hand away. I
did not tax his endurance, but at once gave him
the sugar.
It took him about three days to grasp the idea
that "sit up! meant a special performance, and
that to achieve it meant a lump of sugar. Then I
put him through the same process in the middle
of the room. He missed the support of the wall
at first, and fell over; whereupon he looked fool-
ish. One fact was evidently firmly fixed in his
mind, however,- the fact that there was sugar to
be had if only he could do as I wished him to do.
All the time that he was struggling for balance,
he kept his eye on the lump of sugar, which I had
on the floor beside me. Finally that lesson was
learned, and he could sit up if I would put him in
position. He knew, too, what sit up !" meant.
After that, I would not feed him until he had
first sat up; but it was a long time before he
gained sufficient confidence in himself to sit up
without help. At first I helped him up by both
paws; then I helped by holding only one paw;
then I merely touched one paw; then I only mo-
tioned, as if about to touch the paw; and finally
I simply said, Sit up!"
I think Bob reasoned this all out in his own
mind and concluded that there must be some
strange and beautiful power in the words "sit






ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


up!" for he could see that whenever he did it, he
had something to eat. I am obliged to confess
that Bob loved to eat; and afterhe had learned to
sit up, he was inclined to perform the feat morn-
ing, noon, and night, and it was, of course, impos-
sible to make him go away without first giving
him a morsel, however small, of food.
Lessons in standing up, walking and waltzing
followed, and they were all easily taught. In
teaching him anything, I was always careful to






S -




I,

- ' I ---
'ir~


AWAITING FURTHER ORDERS.

associate the action required of him with certain
words. Standing, walking on his hind legs, and
waltzing were always "stand up!" "walk!"
"waltz about!" I never taught him more than
one thing at a time, so that there should be no
possibility of his misunderstanding the meaning
of the word or words used.
In teaching him to stand up, I first made him
sit; then by holding a piece of sugar over his head,
I induced him to stand erect,-while I kept re-
peating, Stand up! " Stand up! After he had
learned this lesson, I made him first sit, then stand,


and then, by going from him and saying "Walk!"
I made him follow me until he understood the con-
nection between the words and the action, even
when I was at the other end of the room. I taught
him to "waltz" by making him go around and
around after a piece of sugar held over his head
when he was standing up.
To make him go to his corner and lie down,
without hurting his feelings, was difficult. If I said
sharply, Go to your corner and lie down!" he
would go; but he would feel so badly that he
could not play for half an hour. But by repeat-
ing the command in gradually softening tones
and by giving him apiece of sugar each time, he
eventually learned that he was not thereby in
disgrace.
Seeing, however, how a sharp word would make
his ears and tail droop, I took advantage of this
fact, and whenever he had done wrong I would
always say "Naughty!" a dozen times over, until
at last I had only to whisper Naughty! "-and
down would go those ensigns in a moment. On
the other hand, if I said "Good dog!" he was
immediately on the alert, ears up, head cocked to
one side, and tail wagging, ready for any kind of
sport.
After he had learned to walk, I taught him to go
slowly when I said "like a gentleman!" and
quickly when I said "like a schoolboy! To
teach him these things required patience princi-
pally; but I found that to teach him some things
taxed my ingenuity as well.
I wished him to speak both softly and loudly;
but how to make him do it puzzled me. For Bob
seldom barked except when engaged in uproarious
play, and at such times he was not susceptible to
instruction. One day, however, he had been play-
ing with a little rubber ball, running after it and
bringing it to me until I was tired, a condition in
which he never seemed to be.
To stop the game I put my foot on the ball, and
picked up a book to read. Bob waited a few
moments to see what I was going to do, and find-
ing I was not going to play, tried to push my foot
away with his nose. Failing in that, he pulled
with one paw. That also failed, and Bob was
puzzled. He retired a few steps, placed his head
between his forepaws on the floor and looked at
me. I pretended not to see him, curious to know
what he would do. He remained perfectly still
for nearly a minute, and then, as if determined to
attract my attention somehow, he barked.
There was my clew; I gave him the ball at once.
In a few moments I again placed my foot on the
ball, and waited until I saw he was about to bark,
when I said, "Shout! Shout!" He barked, and
I gave him the ball. I repeated this several times


527






ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


a day, and day after day, until he learned to bark
whenever he wanted the ball and I said "Shout!"
Then I made him shout for his meals, and fi-
nally, he would "shout" whenever I told him to
do so.
To make him speak softly, I took advantage of


I









II

4;


"BOB" JUMPING.


a fashion lie had of whining when he wished to go
into the yard for a frolic. I would go to the door
and say, Want to go out?" Bob would at once
respond by preparing to rush out the moment the
door was opened. Then I would say, Speak
softly!" and keep repeating the words until he


whined. After a while he would whine the mo-
ment I said, Speak softly! "
Another thing that I taught him was to fall down
and lie motionless when I said, "Dead!" This
I accomplished by taking hold of his forefeet in one
hand and his hindfeet in the other, and suddenly
dropping him on his side on the
floor, as I said the word "Dead!"
several times.
At first, Bob thought I was play-
ing some new game with him, and
prepared for a good time, but I
had only to say "No!" to him
to make him sedate at once. By
this time he had learned that
when I repeated a thing several
times, it was because he was to
learn something; and the little
fellow really seemed to try to un-
derstand what I wished him to do.
After I had pulled his feet from
under him a number of times, and
had made him lie still until I said,
"Alive !" I tried tapping a hind-
foot and a forefoot, at the same
time saying Dead !" He was a
long time learning this trick; and
several times when I thought he
had learned to do it when I sim-
S ply tapped his feet, I was obliged
S to go back and pull his feet from
under him. In time, however, he
learned to fall the moment I
touched the side of one hindfoot.
From that to motioning at the
foot, and finally, merely saying
S' "Dead !" the progress was quick.
STo make him jump up, I always
S said "Alive!"
'''' To make him go "lame" was
very easy. I tied a long string
iii':1 to one forefoot, and by saying,
S '" Lame and at the same time
5 ', making him walk, while I pre-
'. vented him from putting the tied
foot down, he soon learned to go
S.on three legs.
' :. One of the funniest things he
learned to do was to take his piece
of carpet, shake it well, and put it
back in its place. It was through
an accident that I thought of teaching him to do
this. I had been accustomed to shake out his
carpet in the yard every morning. One morning
I threw it on the grass to air. In a moment Bob
had it in his mouth and was worrying it, shaking
it, and growling. He was playing, but I saw that


528






ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


I could teach him something, and at once said,
" Make your bed By repeating this, morning
after morning, he at last learned to pick up his
carpet, carry it out into the yard, shake it, and
carry it back. I could never teach him to lay it
down properly, however; he seemed to think it
was as good in a heap as if nicely smoothed cut.
After I had taught Bob a number of tricks, I de-
termined to write a play for him. I do not believe
that any human actor ever had audiences more
appreciative than his, when he per-
formed in his "play." His little
friends were always ready to give him
sugar by the handful if I did not in-
terfere, and Bob was always ready
to take all that was offered. The
"play" was nothing more than a
simple little story into which were
introduced the words which I used
in commanding him to perform his
various tricks. I would repeat the -
story, and when I came to a word -
of command, such as "dead," I
would emphasize it so that Bob
would at once do whatever he had
been taught to do at the sound of .
that word. The play I wrote was :- 'f
about as follows--
"Once upon a time there was a
little dog named Bob [here Bob would
run to me, -and wait expectantly].
Usually he was a verygood dog [wag,
wag, would go his tail], but once in a
while he was very naughty [down
would drop ears and tail]. When he
was a good dog [happy again], he
would sit up and show any little boy
or girl how to behave. At such
times, he would speak softly [pro-
longed whine], as a polite dog should,
though once in a while he would be-
come excited, and shout, shout, shout
[furious barking], as impolite chil-
dren are sometimes apt to do.
"When a lady entered the room where he was,
he would always stand up, ready to give her his
chair if she wished it; or if she preferred to go
into the garden or the street, he would go with
her and walk like a gentleman. When he played,
however, he could run like a schoolboy. But once
he was in the ball-room, he could waltz about as
well as the best dancer there.
If any one ever said to him, 'go to your corner
and lie down,' he would do so at once like the
well bred dog he was. But he was always obedi-
ent and would come immediately as soon as one
said Bob.
VOL. XIII.-34.


I was very sorry to hear one day that this re-
markable dog was dead. I felt so badly that I
went to his house, but was pleasantly surprised
when I reached there, to find that he was very
much alive."
What will be the limit of Bob's education I do
not know, for he continues to learn with increasing
ease every day. In addition to all that has been de-
scribed, he can now, at the proper order of com-
mand, sneeze, catch a piece of meat from his nose









4, ,














S--- ... - -
-' -__ .-:_ --' '- -
0 F.

' l "s-74 '" #

i! '*" ', 4'".' "--", ."


FETCH BRINGS IN THE PERVERSE COW.


at the word "three," jump over a cane, turn a
somersault, and play tag.

XI.-A DOG THAT COULD COUNT.
BY E. P. ROE.

OLD FETCH was a shepherd dog and lived in the
Highlands of the Hudson. His master kept nearly
a dozen cows, and they ranged at will among the
hills during the day. When the sun was low in
the west, his master would say to his dog, "Bring
the cows home"; and it was because the dog did


529






ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


this task so well, that he was called Fetch. He some time before he made up his mind to have a
would run to a flat rock and hold his ear down close dog, as he had often seen dogs ill-use the poor
to it, having learned thathe could thus catch the far- sheep. But believing that in most cases the
off tinkle of the cow-bells better than in any other dogs' harshness toward the sheep was due to bad
way. If he could not hear them he would range training, and not to their naturally evil dispo-
about until he did, and then he was off like a shot sitions, he resolved to make trial of one. The
in the direction of the sound. dog he procured was young; and he trained it
One sultry day he departed as usual upon his after his own ideas. He soon found the docile
evening task. From scattered, shady, and grassy creature a very useful helper in driving a flock
nooks, he at last gathered all the cattle into a from one pasture to another. The sheep often
mountain road, leading to the distant barnyard, took a wrong turn, and then scampered off as
Switching off the flies with their tails, the cows fast as they could go. At such times, most
jogged slowly homeward, the tinkle of their bells shepherds who had dogs were accustomed to send
gradually becoming more and more distinct to the the dog after the flock, at the top of its speed.
milkmaid who was awaiting them. One of the Of course, it soon overtook them, but the sheep
cows was knownto be a little perverse, and on that were often much frightened, and not infrequently
evening she gave fresh evidence of willfulness, hurt by falling down or by rushing against one
One part of the road ran through a low, moist spot another. To prevent this, the shepherd mentioned
bordered by a thicket of black alder, and into this would order his dog Smart to go to the other
the cow pushed her way, and stood quietly. The side of the hedge, saying, Now, go ahead, and
others passed on, followed some distance in the bring 'em back Smart would promptly obey,
rear by Fetch. He was panting from his exertions and would noiselessly run along behind the hedge,
in the hot evening, his tongue lolling from his sometimes even climbing a little slope by the road-
mouth as he slowly and languidly pursued his way. way, whence he could overlook the flock and see just
Indeed he had quite discarded his usual vigi- where each sheep was moving. As soon as Smart,
lance, and the perverse cow took advantage of it. by peeping over or through the hedge, had satis-
As the cows approached the barnyard gate, he fled himself that he was ahead of ail the sheep, he
quickened his pace, and hurried forward, as if to would come coolly out of the hedge and bring them
say, I 'm here, attending to business." But his back down the lane so gently as not to cause them
complacency was disturbed as the cows filed the least alarm. Smart never attempted to get
through the gate. He whined a little, and growled ahead of a flock in the way common to most of the
a little, attracting his master's attention. Then dogs in that vicinity,- by rushing past them and
he went to the high fence surrounding the yard, frightening them ; but looking at his master and
and standing on his hindfeet peered between two wagging his tail, he would cross the hedge, over-
of the rails. After looking at the herd carefully take them, and quietly drive them back into the
for a time, he started off down the road again right road.
on a full run. His master now observed that one
of the cows was missing, and he sat down on a rock XIII.- A STORY OF TWO BUCKETS.
to see what Fetch was going to do about it.
Before very long he heard the furious tinkling of a BY CHARLOTTE M. VAILE.
bell, and soon Fetch appeared bringing in the per-
verse cow at a rapid pace, hastening her on by THERE they were hanging, one of them out
frequently leaping up and catching her ear in his of sight in the cool, deep water, and the other
teeth. The gate was again thrown open, and the swinging empty in the sunshine, as Daisy Hadley
cow, shaking her head from the pain of the dog's and her dog Bruno came up to the well. The
rough reminders, was led through it in a way that little girl and the big dog had been rambling
she did not soon forget. Fetch looked after her a about all the morning, following the brook through
moment with the air of one remarking to himself, fields of sunflowers and poppies, or climbing the
"You'11 not try that trick again," and then he lay rocks on the sides of the mountains; but they
down quietly to cool off in time for supper. were tired and thirsty now, and Daisy looked wist-
fully at the empty bucket, wishing she were strong
XII.-A CLEVER SHEEP DOG. enough to pull it down and bring the other, full
and dripping, up in its place.
A RECENT English writer tells the following story Bruno," she said reproachfully, "I wish you
of an ingenious sheep-dog that, when the flock could draw me some water." Bruno was a great,
took a wrong road, would turn them back with- shaggy Newfoundland, that had been Daisy's play-
out worrying them. His owner had hesitated for mate ever since she could remember. He was a


[MAY,


530






ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


531


SA CLEVER SHEEP DOG." (SEE PRECEDING PAGE.)

wonderful dog. Daisy herself would have told taking part in any more remarkable event. But he
you that there were only a few things he could not did come up ; and Daisy's face brightened, for they
do, but unfortunately managing that well was one were great friends, though she was only a little
of them. So there was no help for it, and Daisy girl in the Kindergarten, and he was a tall young
was turning reluctantly away when she caught sight student. He stopped when Daisy said she wanted
of Mr. Paul Gregg, one of the other summer board- some water; and putting down his botanical box,
ers in the Park. he began to draw some gloves over his rather soft
If he had not come up just then, there would have hands.
been no story to tell, and the buckets might have "I don't like this kind of a well at all," said
gone up and down in the well to this day without Daisy. It is n't half as nice as the one at my






[MAY,


ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.


grandfather's. That had only one bucket, with a
rope that went 'round and 'round a great roller;
and there was a handle that I could turn myself."
This is a very old and respectable kind of a
well, though," said Mr. Gregg, taking hold of the
rope. There must have been such wells as long
ago as Shakspere's time."
"How do you know?" asked Daisy, who was
sure that Shakspere lived a great while ago, though
she could not have told when.
Shakspere, you know, Daisy," said Mr. Gregg,
"was a great poet who lived hundreds of years
ago, and in a play he wrote, called King Richard
II.,' he tells about just such a well as this. Richard
was one of the kings of England, and a very
unlucky king he was, though 1 can't deny that he
brought his troubles on himself, for he was any-
thing but a wise and prudent ruler. At last his
cousin Prince Henry raised a great army and
forced Richard to give up the crown. Poor King
Richard did not show much spirit when his troubles
came; but, according to Shakspere, he made a
very neat speech, when his clever cousin Henry
told him that he had decided to become King him-
self. Among other things, Richard said that the
crown he must give up was
'Like a deep well
That owns two buckets filling one another;
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unseen, and full of water;
That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.'
While Mr. Gregg was talking, the buckets in the
well had changed places. The one which had
swung in the air so lightly at first had gone down
out of sight, and the other had come up ready to
be emptied and to take its place in the sunshine.
Mr. Gregg paused now as he poured out some
of the water. Daisy was silent too, trying to un-
derstand it all.
What became of King Richard? she asked
presently.
He died in prison," said Mr. Gregg. Some
say his cousin Henry, who took his place as king,
had him put to death; and now," he added, turn-
ing away from the well, I think that I will see if
your mother is ready to go to dinner with us."
Then he turned toward the cottage and left
Daisy standing by the well. She had not under-
stood it all, but she felt very sorry for the unhappy
king, and she thought she knew why he said he
was like the bucket in the deep, dark water when
he sank under his grief and shame never to see
any more bright days.
She was leaning on the side of the well, with
her hand upon the rope, thinking very earnestly of
it all and trying to catch a glimpse of the bucket
that was hanging there in the dark, when some-


thing dreadful happened. Before she knew it, she
had leaned over too far. She lost her balance and
fell over the side of the well. Down, down went the
bucket, more swiftly than it had ever gone before,
and with it, but holding desperately to the rope,
went Daisy There was only time for one terrible
cry-and she was out of sight in the well!
There was no one there to save her,- Yes, there
was Bruno! He heard the cry. He saw his little
friend go down, and with a bark that rang across
to the mountains, he rushed to the well. He
leaped frantically against the low wooden side just
as the bucket which had been in the water rose
even with its edge. Somehow he managed to fling
his heavy paws on it, then his whole body, and
then, all at once, it was Bruno that was going
down, down, but clinging to the bucket and howl-
ing as he went,- and Daisy was coming up !
It was only for a minute, therefore, that Daisy
was in the water. The next moment, thanks to
the sudden pull at the other end of the rope, she
was rising again; and just as Bruno, loosened his
hold of the bucket, and dropped heavily into the
water, Mr. Paul Gregg reached the side of the
well, seized the rope and drew Daisy to the top,
gasping, shivering, and frightened almost to death.
As soon as Daisy could speak, she said, Save
Bruno But they had already begun to do that,
and they did save him, of course. The brave old
fellow was none the worse for his adventure. He
dried himself in the sunshine, and then lay down
beside the rocking-chair where Daisy sat folded in
a soft wrap, with vaseline on her blistered hands.
Daisy was none the worse for it either, in the
end; though at first, when her mother asked her
how it happened and she tried to say something
about a poor king," and a bucket-full of tears,"
the poor lady was afraid the plunge had affected
her daughter's mind, and to this day she is in
doubt whether Shakspere or King Henry or Mr.
Paul Gregg was responsible for the accident.
One thing however, was clear. It was Bruno
who had saved her. Had he really meant to go
down with the bucket and rescue her? Daisy
never had a doubt of it herself. For the rest of
the season he was the hero of the Park. The sum-
mer guests bought him a silver collar beautifully
engraved, and Mr. Paul Gregg declared that he
should propose his name as an honorary member
of the Humane Society.
But Bruno's head was not turned with all those
honors. He rambled through the fields with Daisy
as he had done before, and when she put her arms
around his neck, and said that he should be her
dearest friend forever, he was happier than if his
collar had been made of gold, or than if he had
been elected president of the Humane Society.






THE SMALLEST CIRCUS IN THE WORLD.


THE SMALLEST CIRCUS IN


THE WORLD.


BY C. F. HOLDER.


'4


,II
~i'






It..


4~c


i-




_ _~m~ -__----C
-*.t= +"^. ~

Na


THE "GO-AS-YOU-PLEASE RACE, AS SEEN THROUGH A MAGNIFYING GLASS. (SEE PAGE 535-)
THE "GO-AS-YOL-PLEASE" RACE, AS SEEN THROUGH A SIAGNIFYING CLASS. (SEE PCGE 535.)


IN a former number of ST. NICHOLAS the
largest circus in the world was described, and the
curious animal actors were shown in many of their
tricks and performances. We now wish to exhibit
another circus, the smallest in the world, the per-
formers in which, numbering several hundreds,
could all be carried about in a cherry-stone-in
fact, a circus of fleas, of such remarkable intelligence
that in their various feats they were quite equal to
many of the larger trained animals with which we
are familiar.
But before showing what the flea can do. let us
look at its antecedents. We know that it is a
wingless fly,-a cousin to the house-flies on one
side, and to the crane-flies on the other; and a
more knightly-looking little creature you can not
possibly imagine. Under the microscope we see
it covered with a rich polished armor resembling
tortoise-shell. The head is small, and supports two
antennae, or feelers, composed of five joints, and
between these is the proboscis, a terrible affair.
Upon close examination with a powerful glass, what
an array of piercing and cutting blades are seen,-
long, narrow, transparent knives, each edge armed
with a double row of glistening points that extend
outward and then are hooked backward These
are known as the mandibles, and fit closely to-
gether, concealing another and smaller blade that
has a similar but single row of points. Besides


all this, there are two cutting-blades; the under
edges are as sharp as sharp can be, while the upper
are thick and set with bristles. Do you wonder
then that the flea is so sharp a biter ?
On its armored head are two large eyes; and the
entire body is seen to be made up of a series of
elastic armor-like bands wonderfully jointed, and
armed with bristling spines like the steel points on
the armor of olden times. The legs are six in
number, jointed in so remarkable a manner that
they can be folded up one within another. When
the flea makes its prodigious leaps, these six legs
all unfold at once, hurling the little fellow high into
the air.
The baby flea is produced from a minute egg
that in six days hatches into a tiny worm. In
about ten days, the worm changes into a chrysalis,
and in twelve days more it appears a perfect flea,
ready for warfare upon anything or anybody.
Who first discovered that the flea was suscepti-
ble to education and kind treatment is not known;
but the fact remains that on their small heads
there is a thinking-cap capable of accomplishing
great results. In the selection of fleas for training,
however, the same care must be taken as with
human beings, as the greatest difference is found
in them. Some are exceedingly apt scholars,
while others never can learn, and so it is that great
numbers of fleas are experimented with before a


_ ~q~_all~ I__






THE SMALLEST CIRCUS IN THE WORLD.


troupe is accepted. The Flea Circus here de-
scribed was exhibited a few years ago and was
composed of about two hundred of the most dis-
tinguished and intelligent fleas in the entire family.
One of the first lessons taught the flea, is to
control its jumping powers, for if its great leaps
should be taken in the middle ofa performance, there
would be a sudden ending to the circus. To
insure against such a misfortune, the student flea
is first placed in a glass phial, and encouraged to
jump as much as possible. Every leap here made
brings the polished head of the flea against the
glass, hurling the insect back, and throwing it this
way and that, until, after a long and sorry experi-
ence, and perhaps many head-aches, it makes up
its mind never to unfold its legs suddenly again.
When it has proved this by refusing to jump in
the open air, the first and most important lesson is
complete, and it joins the troupe, and is daily har-
nessed and trained, until, finally, it is pronounced
ready to go on the stage or in the ring.
The famous Flea Circus was placed on an ordi-
nary table, and resembled in size and shape a com-
mon dinner plate. A rim several inches high
encircled the outer edge, and around the circle
stood a number of small wooden boxes- the houses
of the performers, and the stables for their car-
riages. The signal being given, the audience,
consisting of one human being, would take in
hand the large magnifying glass, hold it over
the ring, and the performance would begin. At
the word of command from the director, a very
jolly, red-faced old gentleman, armed with a pair
of pincers, a tiny trap-door in one of the wooden
houses sprang open and a number of fleas filed
out. They passed around the circle in a
dignified manner, appearing through the
glass about as large as wasps or bees. Each
flea had a gold cord about its waist, and this
was the grand entry always seen at the cir-
cus. Having completed the circuit, they
returned to their quarters, and the perform-
ance proper commenced. Five fleas, each
adorned with a different color, stepped from
another house, and after running about here
and there, and being admonished by the
director, ranged themselves in a line, and
at the word go! started on a rush around
the circle; running into each other, rolling over
and over, and making frantic leaps over one an-
other. Only after half the course had been gone
over, did they move in regular order, and strive
fairly for the goal. In another moment, a large
flea would have won the race had not two laggards
almost at the last instant, as if made reckless by
their evident risk of defeat, taken a desperate leap
and landed far beyond the winning-post. Forth-


with they were taken up in the pincers, and placed
in solitary confinement in the glass phial, where
it was supposed they had learned not to jump.
A dance was next announced and at a signal
from the manager there came tumbling out from
the third house probably the most ludicrous band
of performers ever witnessed. Each dancer was in
full regalia, like the ladies who ride the padded
horses in the regular circus, their dresses of tissue


-












THE DANCE.

paper being ornamented with purple, gold, and red
hues. The glass was placed in position, the spec-
tator looked through it, the performers were lifted
in by the pincers, and the dance began-a mix-
ture of the Highland-fling, the sailor's hornpipe,
and a regular" break-down.
The little creatures bobbed up and down, now
on one claw, now on all six, hopping, leaping, bow-
ing, and scraping, moving forward and back,
bumping into one another, now up, now down,
until they seemed utterly exhausted, and several
until they seemed utterly exhausted, and several


THE HURDLE-RACE.


that had fallen down, and were kept by their volu-
minous skirts from getting up, had to be carried
off by the aid of the ever-ready pincers.
Next came a hurdle-race. Hurdles of thin silver
wire were arranged, over which two fleas were sup-
posed to leap. One, however, was evidently very
lazy or very cunning, as it won the last race by
crawling under the wire.
A clown flea now appeared in the ring, and


534


[MAY,






THE SMALLEST CIRCUS IN THE WORLD.


crawled about in a comical manner with a white
clown's cap on its diminutive head. A moment
later out came a number of fleas all harnessed with
gold wire trappings, and the several vehicles
were taken from the stables. There was a tally-ho
coach, smaller than a very small pea, an Eskimo
sled, about a quarter of an inch long, with wire
runners, a trotting sulky, evidently made from
hair or bristles, and other gorgeous equipages.
The tally-ho team of four frantic fleas, evidently
fiery steeds, was harnessed to the coach, and on
the top were placed four phlegmatic fleas that
had probably been booked as outsiders, while the
insides were two others fleas, which, we are sorry
to say, were obliged to get in through the win-
dow, and acted very much as if they wished to
get out again. The other vehicles were each pro-
vided with a steed and rider, and then all were
drawn up in a row. At the word of command, off
they started pell-mell The tally-ho leaders evi-
dently jumped their traces at first, but finally they
were off with a rush, running over the clown,
knocking off his hat, and, for the moment, creat-
ing a dreadful panic. The sled team threw its
driver, and the sulky ran away, the flea trotter
actually leaping into the air, sulky and all. But
order was soon restored, and as the track was
arranged on the downhill principle, the racers
made rapid time. In two minutes the circuit was
completed, the tally-ho coming in ahead, with-
out, however, its outside passengers, who were
thrown off as the coach was rounding the curve,
and at once crawled into the nearest place of
refuge.


The last act of this wonderful circus was per-
haps the best. The manager arranged the stage
by placing two very fine entomological pins about
four inches apart, connecting them by a slender
silver wire, and then announced that Signor Pulex
Irritanici, the world-renowned tight-rope per-
former, would attempt his wonderful feat of dancing
upon the wire at a "dizzy height" (compared to
the size of the performer The Signor was then
brought out in a small bottle of cut-glass; his only
ornament was a little jacket of tissue-paper. When
fished out and placed upon the pin-head, he boldly









: ..-- .






SIGNOR PULEX IRRITANICI ON THE TIGHT-ROPE.

started out upon the wire over which his little
clawed toes seemed to fit. In the middle, and over
the terrific abyss, he balanced up and down for a
second, stood upon his longest legs, and then
moved on. crossing in safety, and thus ending the
circus, at least for that occasion.


ROCK-A-BYE.

By MARY N. PRESCOTT.

" ROCK-A-BYE, babies, upon the tree-top,"
To her young the mother-bird sings,
" When the wind 's still, the rocking will stop,
And then you may all use your wings."

" Rock-a-bye, babies, under the eaves,"
The swallow croons to her brood,
" Here you are safer, my children, from thieves
Than if I had built in the wood."

" Rock-a-bye, babies, the river runs deep,"
The reed-bird trills to her flock,
" The river stirs only to sing you to sleep,
The wind your green cradle to rock!"


535





SAW IN THE FLOWERS.


A


*


WHiAT EliTIE -..\\V IN THE
F i. i R -.


I 'i i _. I E. 1, rr 1. '
SI ,I. l i. : .-.i ,_ r,:r: .. i'

1,-1 ,. .. I 1 l . r h ,I I, ..,


I .. .... l1 1. i .In ,





,Ir .. n,, .i ,,,,-,- i ..-i, ,.I ,,,i
r, } , l I ',_ r l '] '


536


[MAY,


WHAT BERTIE


.;it~Q


1' i . 1,


fll,
4,,,*,


*'' ,f'



* r.
i ^ ^


,P

ii ~ Y






KEEPING THE CREAM OF ONE'S READING.


KEEPING THE CREAM OF ONE'S READING.

BY MARGARET MEREDITH.


79 SYplan dates from a few delight-
Sful weeks which I spent with
I, a girl friend, long ago. We
S were devoted to poetry and to
reading aloud; and in that
occupation we had the aid of a
a -i- V brilliant, accomplished young
S woman. She selected for us
from Coleridge, Shelley, and
several other authors, whose
entire works she knew we
would not care to read, all the
specially fine poems or pas-
sages, and these we read and
discussed with her over our
fancy-work. It was charming.
At last, she suggested that,
as I was soon to go away and
leave the books and clippings
with which I had been growing
familiar, it would be helpful
for me to write down the choicest bits, and try in that
way to keep in some degree what I had gained. This
I did, putting the extracts in a school copy-book
which our friend dubbed Snippers,"-from an odd
seamstress word which she had picked up by chance.
Other "snipper" books followed when that one,
years after, had been filled.
My system is an orderly one. All my books
are broad-paged and wide-lined, thus preventing
the cramped and crowded writing which often
makes such books unreadable. When I find any-
thing which strikes me as worth keeping, I note
on a slip of paper, somewhat longer than the book
I am reading, the number of the page and make a
perpendicular line beneath it, with a cross 23
line indicating the relative position of the
sentence which I wish to keep, thus:
If the page is in columns, I make, instead
of the single line, a rough parallelogram, and
note within it by square dots the relative positions
of the sentences chosen for preservation, thus:
187 This slip of paper I use as a book-
mark until it is filled or the book is
finished, noting upon it, as indicated,
the choicest passages and their posi-
tions on the pages. When I have
finished the book I go carefully over
these selected sentences. Many are
discarded; the rest go into my snippers." Be-
low the first entry and to the right, I place the


name of the book and its author, both heavily un-
derscored; below the others, the word Ibid" or
" ditto," underscored. At the top of each page I
note the year, and at the head of each batch of
extracts the month or day.
Paragraphs cut from newspapers, which are
worth saving, are pasted as a fly-leaf to the inner
edge of the page, or even slipped under the bind-
ing thread.
In carrying out my plan I am always content
with hasty work,-but I write plainly, and if pos-
sible with ink, as much fingering destroys pencil-
marks. I once tried classifying the extracts, but
this scarcely paid for the trouble.
I used sometimes to wonder whether these books
of selections were of any real value. But I have
grown now to prize them greatly. Many a time I
go to them for a dimly remembered phrase or pas-
sage. Sometimes, too, I read them over, for of
course they give me the essence of what I most like
and admire in my reading. A short time since I
lent one to a literary friend, and was surprised to
find she enjoyed it so greatly that she was almost
unwilling to give it back.
I am very glad that I began this practice in my
young days. It gives very little trouble, and that
little is a pleasure.
There is a familiar expression about an embar-
rassment of riches." This is the greatest disap-
pointment I experience with my snipperss." For,
occasionally, a book has too many good things in
it to be easily copied, and then my only relief is to
own it and, marking it vol. X, add it to my row
of extract-books.


537






WONDERS OF T-HE ALPHABET.


WONDERS OF THE ALPHABET.

BY HENRY ECKFORD.


THIRD PAPER.

PERHAPS you have never given a thought to the
fact that, because you were born into a nation using
an alphabet that came down from the Phoenicians,
you are saved a world of trouble. But consider
'the Chinese. If a Chinese boy and an American
boy begin to learn their letters at the same time,
each studying his own writing, then by the time
the American is ten years old he has advanced as
far in the use of letters as the Chinese boy will have
advanced in the use of his when he is twenty years
old. That is the same as saying that Chinese writ-
ing is three or four times as hard to learn as English.
Think of spending the years between ten and twenty
in learning to read On the other hand, the long
apprenticeship of Chinese and Japanese boys to
their letters does them good in one way. They
paint their letters with a brush on soft paper. By
this means they learn very early to be skillful with
the brush, which is one reason why Chinese and
Japanese artists are so very dexterous with their
brushes.
All writing, let it be remembered, must have
begun with pictures. It is largely Chinese writ-
ing which has explained how all sorts of letters
were gradually changed from pictures to an alpha-
bet, in which hardly a single letter tells from what
picture it started. The Japanese tongue is quite
different from the Chinese. But the use by the
Japanese of signs employed ages before by the
Chinese explains another step in the progress of
language. The writing of the Mexican Indians also
helps us to understand the growth of alphabets.
When, ages ago, the Chinese began to write, they
drew little pictures of the things they wished to
represent, as did the Egyptians before them in
their picture-writing; and from picture-writing
they made some advance in the direction of
sound-writing, or rebuses. Then the little rebus-
pictures were so much altered that it became very
difficult to see what they once meant.
Now Chinese is a queer language. All its words
are only one syllable long. But the sounds in the
Chinese language are not very many, some four
hundred and sixty-five at most, and their written
language contains about eighty thousand pictures,
each picture representing a thing or idea. And these
pictures must be committed to memory. This is
hard work, and not even the wisest Chinese professor
can learn them all. But now comes a difficulty.


For, of course, where there are so many words and
so few sounds, many different words have to be
called, by the same sound. How then are they to
tell, when several different things have exactly the
same name which of them is meant?
We have such words. For instance, there is Bill,
the name of a boy; and bill, the beak of a bird;
there is bill, an old weapon, and bill, a piece of
money; there is bill, an article over which legisla-
tures debate, and bill, a claim for payment of money;
besides bills of exchange, bills of lading, and so
forth. But Chinese is full of such words of a single
syllable, yen, for instance, which, like bill, means
many very different things. So they chose a
number of little pictures, and agreed that these
should be used as keys." The Chinese keys"


cS





4


y^/N \00/


5


REBUS-PICTURES FROM THE OLD CHINESE, SHOWING THE
BEGINNINGS OF PICTURE-WRITING.
I. A Month. (From a picture of the moon.) 2. The Eye. 3. A Horse.
4. An Ax. 5. Rain. 6. Face. 7. A Dragon. 8. Bamboo.
9. Rhinoceros. Ic. Dawn. (From the rising sun.)
were used like the Egyptian determinative
signs," of which I told you. Each "key" meant
that the sign or signs near which it stood be-
longed to some large general set of things, like
things of the vegetable, mineral, or animal king-


[MAY,


D






WONDERS OF THE ALPHABET.


dom, forests, mines, or seas, air, or water, or of per-
sons, like gods or men. It was like the game called
Throwing Light, in which you guess the article by
narrowing down the field until certain what it is.
But there Chinese writing stopped short, thou-
sands of years ago. There it is to-day. There are
now two hundred and fourteen of these "keys," and,
by intense application, Chinamen learn to use their
method with surprising quickness and success.
The Japanese acted toward Chinese writing
much as the Phoenicians did toward Egyptian writ-
ing. The Japanese, a very intelligent people, made
what you have learned to know as a syllabary, out
of signs taken from the Chinese symbols. It is
called a syllabary, you remember, because each
sign stood in their language for a syllable. They
had to do this, because, while Chinese is all short
syllables, Japanese is a language of much longer
words even than ours. They cut down and simpli-
fied the Chinese signs, giving them names of their
own. In this way they manage to write very swiftly.
And, while not so clumsy as the Chinese fashion,
the Japanese method is clumsier than is the use
of an alphabet. In late years, a society has been
started in Japan to do away altogether with their
old-time writing, and adopt our alphabet.
Perhaps, by this time, you are beginning to see
how very slowly alphabets have grown, and how
hard it has been for human beings to perfect
them. Knowing this, will you not look now with
more interest on written and printed words ? When
you see letters, will you not reflect what a history
each one has, reaching far back into the remotest
past, where at first all seems dark, and where, when
light does come, the very number and variety of
materials perplex the student of alphabets ? More-
over, will you not feel ashamed of people who
laugh or sneer at savage nations who lave no
sound-writing, no syllabary, no alphabet ? It does
not mean that in such races all men are stupid.
As a rule it means simply that the race has not
had a fair chance. It has been racked by wars.
Or it has never come in contact peacefully with
some nation that used a method of writing a trifle
better than its own, so that the brighter minds
could establish schools of learning. When one
nation conquers another, the higher and cleverer
minds among the conquered are often the first to
be destroyed. The best of our Indians of North
and South America seem to have been the first
to fall in battle with the whites, or to have died
off because of their cruelty. The reason why the
others, who lived with or near the white settlers,
did not readily borrow our way of writing in
their turn, as we had borrowed from the Romans,
the Romans from the Greeks and Phenicians,


and the latter from the Egyptians, seems to be
that our system was too far advanced for them.
But if the first white settlers in Central and South
America had been kind and wise men, instead of
coarse and greedy people, they could have found
tribes and nations almost as advanced in their mode
of writing as the Japanese, though not the equals
of the Japanese in architecture and the fine arts.
These tribes could have learned our alphabet if care
had been taken to instruct their superior men. It
is certain that the Aztecs, or Mexican Indians, had
advanced very far on the road to a true alphabet.
When the cruel Spaniards arrived and upset their
governments, destroyed their temples, massacred,
enslaved and then shamefully neglected them, they
had already reached the art of rebus-writing. The
name of the Mexican King, Knife-Snake, or, Itz-
Coati was written in this way : Itzli means knives,
and Coatl, snake. There, in Fig. i, is the snake,







FIG. I. FIG. 2.

and on his back are knives made of flint. They
even went farther. The same name, Itz-Coatl,
was also written as in Fig. 2. The flint-headed
arrow means Ilt; the jar, called Comifl, stands
for Co; and the branch, a picture of water in
drops, stands for atl, water. And it has been as-
serted that certain neighbors of the Aztecs or
Mexicans, known as the Maya Indians of Yucatan,
who were ancient people of Central America,
left ruins of cities covering square miles of forest
and plain, and had reached nearly if not quite to
the invention of an alphabet of vowels and conso-
nants. But the latest authorities agree that such a
Maya alphabet as the Spaniards reported may
have been invented after the whites arrived. Speci-
mens of Maya writing may be seen in Washing-
ton, at the Smithsonian Institute, on slabs and on
paper casts taken from their idols or statues of
kings and priests. It was not by the Maya system,
but by one of rebuses, that the old missionaries
wrote what few books they composed for their un-
unhappy Indian congregations. Only lately a
book composed in picture-writing throughout, was
printed for the Mikmak Indians of Newfoundland.
In the next paper we will endeavor to trace
the road by which our English alphabet came
down from the Phoenicians, that ancient folk of
the palm-tree and the Red Sea, whose alphabet
you saw in the first paper of this series.


The illustrations of this article are reproduced, by permission, from a notable French work on ancient Hieroglyphics
by Prof. L. De Rosny, of Paris.






BUBBLE BOWLING.


I P




V. L


1' -'


i>4
O :LNI


BY ADELIA B. BEARD.


"A NOTHING new in bubbles! Every one knows how to blow bubbles "
yl Of course they do, and yet, the game I am about to describe is an entirely


new and a very interesting one.
When the game of Bubble Bowling was played for the first time, it
furnished an evening's entertainment, not only for the children, but for
grown people also; even a well known General and his staff, who graced
the occasion with their presence, joined in the sport, and seemed to enjoy
it equally with their youthful competitors. Loud was the chorus of
" Bravo! and merry the laugh of exultation when the pretty crystal
ball passed safely through its goal; and sympathy was freely expressed
in many an "Oh!" and Too bad! as the wayward bubble rolled
gayly off toward the floor, or, reaching the goal, dashed itself against
one of the stakes and instantly vanished into thin air.
Bubble parties are delightful, as most children know from experience,
and it is unnecessary, therefore, to give a description of them here. I
propose merely to introduce bubble bowling as a feature in these enter-
tainments, which will furnish no end of amusement and jollity, and add
increased enjoyment and variety to the programme.
The game should be played upon a long, narrow table, made simply
of a board five feet long and eighteen inches wide, resting upon ordi-
nary wooden "horses." On top of the table, and at a distance of twelve
inches from one end, should be fastened in an upright position, two stakes
twelve inches high; the space between the stakes should be eight
S" -" ..,. :. i..:-i. i l;. : r.h. r :'ud four inches from the


-- S

-r~


-1
4'~~~ 1111111110


r ....1_. .. rh. ii.,I... '.hen finished, the table
'.-1 I.... ....:.:.. I I1 some sort of woolen
*.I..11. ,,- ..!.l :II I .ir a breadth of colored
ii 0 -:! 1! ..... I ie purpose excellently.
,, ,ll i,.i ....,1 I.. cut at the right distance
..i i .r. -r .. i-'.:. ..-,s through. The cloth
: i,...,i 1 I.... -11 ...1 fall over the edge of the
i Il.1.:. .-I i- I.I: i. ,.,r -1... fastened down, as it will
I.. ... ..: -..: r, :.. : to rem ove it in order to
I: ,r .1h ii .,I I.. Found more convenient,


~~~i~I ii.l ~~ "l~~IT'i,,,,' IbII' ,, ill ri'IIlljlllR~iTnitfihfiT,,ii~lT~ufl~(ji~lj,


."""... X7////


/ll'































/












-x


[MAY,


/*ii
K)
ffi


I


^ =


t,.,






BUBBLE BOWLING.


therefore, to use two covers, if they can be provided,
as there can then always be a dry cloth ready
to replace the one that has become too damp.
The bubbles are apt to stick when they come
upon wet spots, and the bowling can be car-
ried on in a much more lively manner if the
course is kept dry. Each of the stakes forming
the goal should be wound with bright ribbons of
contrasting colors, entwined from the bottom up,
and ending in a bow at the top. This bow can be
secured in place by driving a small, or brass-
headed tack through the ribbon into the top of the
stake. If the rough pine legs of the table seem
too unsightly, they can easily be painted. Or a
curtain may be made of bright-colored cretonne,-
any other material will do as well, provided the
colors are pleasing,-and tucked around the edge
of the table, so as to fall in folds to the floor.
The illustration on this page shows the top of the
table, when ready for the game.
For an impromptu affair, a table can bemade by
placing a leaf of a dining-table across the backs of
two chairs, andcoveringit with a shawl. The stakes
can be held in an upright position by sticking them
in the tubes of large spools. This sort of table the


captains, and allowing each captain to choose,
alternately, a recruit for his party until the ranks
are filled, or in other words, until all the children
have been chosen; then, ranked by age, or in any
other manner preferred, they form in line on either
side of the table. A pipe is given to each child by
the hostess, and they stand prepared for the con-
test. One of the captains first takes his place at
the foot of the table, where he must remain while
he is bowling, as a bubble passing between the
stakes is not counted unless blown through the
goal from the end of the table.
The bowl of soapsuds is placed upon a small
stand by the side of the bowling-table, and the next
in rank to the captain, belonging to same party,
dips his pipe into the suds and blows a bubble,
not too large, which he then tosses upon the table
in front of the captain, who as first bowler, stands
ready to blow the bubble on its course down through
the goal. Three successive trials are allowed each
player; the bubbles which break before the bowler
has started them. are not counted.
The names of all the players, divided as they
are into two parties, are written down on a slate or
paper, and whenever a bubble is sent through the


nA


J L, i ilj children
can arrange
S-themselves,
Sand it answers the
purpose very nicely. The
d other things to be provided
for the game are a large
bowl of strong soapsuds,
made with common brown
soap, and as many pipes
as there are players.
The prizes for the winners
of the game may consist of
any trinkets or small articles
that the fancy or taste of the hostess may suggest.
Bubble Bowling can be played in two ways. The
first method requires an even number of players, and
these must be divided into two equal parties. This
is easily accomplished by selecting two children for


goal, a mark is set down opposite the
name of the successful bowler.
When the captain has had his three
trials, the captain on the other side becomes
bowler, and the next in rank of his own party
blows the bubbles for him. When this captain
retires, the member of the opposite party, ranking
next to the captain, takes the bowler's place and
is assisted by the one whose name is next on the
list of his own side; after him the player next to
the captain on the other side ; and so on until the
last on the list has his turn, when the captain then
becomes assistant and blows the bubbles.
The number of marks required for either side to
win the game, must be decided by the number of
players; if there are twenty,- ten players on each
side,- thirty marks would be a good limit for the
winning score.
When the game has been decided, a prize is


1 'I' I ii ?


i886.]






[MAY,


THE KNICKERBOCKER BOY.


given to that member of each party who has the
greatest number of marks against his or her name
showing that he or she has sent the bubble through
the goal oftener than any player on the same side.
Or, if preferred, prizes may be given to every child
belonging to the winning party.
The other way in which Bubble Bowling may be
played is much simpler, and does not require an


even number of players, as no sides are formed.
Each bowler plays for himself, and is allowed five
successive trials; if three bubbles out of the five be
blown through the goal, the player is entitled to a
prize. The child acting as assistant becomes the
next bowler, and so on until the last in turn be-
comes bowler, when the one who began the game
takes the place of assistant.


THE KNICKERBOCKER BOY.

BY CAROLINE S. KING.


I.
I 'M a knickerbocker boy !
See my coat and breeches !
Cuffs and collar, pocket too-
Made with many stitches!
I must have a watch and chain,
A silk umbrella and a cane.-
No more kilts and skirts for me
I 'm a big boy-don't you see?

II.

Knickerbockers Knickerbockers !
Give away my other clothes !
Give away my horse with rockers;
I want one that really goes.
Two brisk, prancing goats will do;
But I 'd like a wagon too.
No more chairs hitched up for me !
I 'm a big boy-don't you see?


__






4] THE BROWNIES ON ROLLER SKATES. 542


THE BROWNIES ON ROLLER SKATES.

IBY PALMER COX.


THE Brownies planned at close of day
To reach a town some miles away,
Where roller skating, so 't was said,
Of all amusements kept ahead.

Said one: "When deeper shadows fall
We '11 cross the river, find the hall,


The bridge was nearly swept away,
Submerged in parts, and wet with spray.

But when the cunning Brownies get
Their mind on some maneuver set,
Nor wind nor flood, nor frost nor fire
Can ever make the rogues retire.


__ __: __.~_---;

-:--- _

: '-' '
'. "" "1 A'I .


And learn the nature of the sport
Of which we hear such good report."

To reach the bridge that led to town,
With eager steps they hastened down;
But recent rains had caused a rise-
The stream was now a fearful size;


Some walked the dripping logs with ease,
While others crept on hands and knees
With movements rather safe than fast,
And inch by inch the danger passed.

Now, guided by the rumbling sound
That told where skaters circled 'round,






[ MAY,


THE BROWNIES ON ROLLER SKATES.


Through dimly lighted streets they flew,
And close about the building drew.

Without delay the active band,
By spouts and other means at hand,
Of skill and daring furnished proof
And gained possession of the roof;


I 've rolled in surf of ocean wide,
And coasted down the mountain-side,
And now to sweep around a hall
On roller skates would crown it all."

" My plans," the leader answer made,
" Are in my mind already laid.


Then through the skylight viewed the show
Presented by the crowds below.

Said one: While I survey that floor
I 'm filled with longing more and more,
And discontent with me will bide
Till 'round the rink I smoothly glide.
At night I 've ridden through the air,
Where bats abide, and owls repair,


Within an hour the folk below
Will quit their sport and homeward go;
Then will the time be ripe, indeed,
For us to leave this roof with speed,
And prove how well our toes and heels
We may command when set on wheels."

When came the closing hour at last,
And people from the rink had passed,






THE BROWNIES ON ROLLER SKATES.


The Brownies hurried down to find
The roller skates they 'd left behind.

Then such a scene was there as few
May ever have a chance to view.
Some hardly circled 'round the place,
Before they moved with ease and grace,
And skated freely to and fro,


Upon a single heel or toe.
Some coats were torn beyond repair,
By catches here and clutches there,
When those who felt their faith give way,
Grabbed right and left without delay;
While some who strove a friend to aid,
Upon the floor themselves were laid,
To spread confusion there awhile,
As large and larger grew the pile.
VOL. XIII.-35.


Some rose with fingers out of joint,
Or black and blue at every point;
And few but felt some portion sore,
From introductions to the floor.
But such mishaps were lost to sight,
Amid the common wild delight,-
For little fuss do Brownies make
O'er bump or bruise or even break.


And had that night been long as those
That spread a shade o'er polar snows,
The Brownies would have kept the floor,
And never thought of sash or door.

But stars at length began to wane,
And dawn came creeping through the pane;
And, much against the will of all,
The rogues were forced to leave the hall.


545






546 OUR MUSIC PAGE. [MAY,


EASTER CAROL.

By WM. E. ASHMALL.

A___ ----- 1= -- .


I. Sing a -loud for Christ our King, Our lov ing Say iour dear;


S<=-F---- J- ---------------

I I



------ ---"-


Let our hap py voi ces ring, To all the earth good cheer.
J -- -- --== .....=: =.. -- .......---- -4,-- -- -|
40--


















2 For He is risen up on high,
From earth and dreary grave
Christ is risen! is our cry,
1-4-- iT-j -H














He lives again to save.
Al le lAl leluia Alleluia! Aleluia Amen. A men.








3 Sing aloud for Christ our King,
On this, our ser orn.
He lives again to save.luia Amen.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen.

3 Sing aloud for Christ our King,
For Christ, the Saviour, born;
This carol ever we will sing,
On this, our Easter morn.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen.






THE HANDIWORK OF SOME CLEVER BOYS.


THE HANDIWORK OF SOME CLEVER SCHOOL-BOYS.

BY J. ABDON DONNEGAN.


THE Fair of the American Institute held an-
nually in New York, is chiefly a display from the
various American trades showing improvement and
advancement; here designers and inventors also
present many novelties and useful inventions for
public criticism and judgment.
One feature of the Fair of 1885 that attracted
much attention and comment, was the novel and
unique display of mechanical models designed and
constructed by the boys of the third grade in Gram-
mar-School, No. 57, one of the public schools of
New York City. The work exhibited by these boys
is peculiarly interesting and suggestive, and is an
indication of what observant, thoughtful, and intel-
ligent boys can devise and do when their tastes
and natural inclinations are developed.
The boys' models were made at home, after
class-hours, and on odd holidays during the six
months previous to exhibition, and were primarily
intended to illustrate the principles of the six me-
chanical powers,-the inclined plane, the lever,
the wedge, the pulley, the wheel and axle, and
the screw. When the American Institute Fair
opened, an inclined railway, with its platform and
cars; a miniature guillotine, with ready knife; a
dumb-waiter in full working order; a derrick pre-
pared to raise many weights; a pile-driver with its
automatically dropped weight, the sound of which
never failed to attract attention,-all these, with
other models, occupied a space in Machinery
Hall.
During the morning hours, curtains screened the
models; in the afternoon the youthful exhibitors
arrived and took special delight in showing the
working of their designs. The pleasant hours
spent there, the praise of visitors, and the recog-
nition and commendation accorded by the press
will be long remembered by the boys. At the
closing of the Fair, the exhibit was awarded the
Medal of Merit.
The illustrations on pages 548 and 55 show the
models exhibited. Figure I represents an alco-
holic furnace, illustrating the expansion of a brass
rod by heat. A cylinder of tin, fifteen inches in
height and five in diameter, is hinged to a base of
wood and arranged so as to tilt to the left. A
lever fifteen inches long opens and closes a damper;
this lever (an umbrella rod) is inserted in a piv-
oted rod of wood two inches long, supported in
a square frame made of an inch strip of tin bent
twice at right angles and soldered to the cylinder.


A brass banner rod, seven inches long, also con-
nects with this rod and, passing through an inch
opening, is supported in the flame of an alcohol
lamp and fastened on the opposite side by a tiny
brass knob screwed on the protruding thread of the
rod. A small pulley and weight steadies the
motion of the lever.
The heat of the alcohol flame causes the brass
rod to lengthen, and this in turn moves the lever
which opens the damper; and the degree of ex-
pansion is indicated on a paper scale by a straw
pointer attached to the rod of the damper. A
coating of copper bronze was given to the cylinder.
This model was made in part by Winfred C.
Rhoades.
Figure 2 shows a forge made by William E.
Tappae. A hand-bellows is mounted on a wooden
base about ten by twenty-four inches in size, and
is worked by a lever handle supported in a frame
twenty-six inches in height. The bellows consists
of two boards connected by flexible leather tacked
to the edges. The upper board is stationary, and
an inch central opening is covered on the inside
by a two-inch flap of chamois fastened at one
point, forming a valve.
As the handle is pushed up, the air rushes in,
and when pulled down, the valve closes and the
compressed air is forced through the metal
nozzle to the glowing coals. The carved-wood
anvil was stained black and the other parts were
painted a bright vermilion.
Figure 3 explains one way of connecting levers,
and their uses as a mechanical aid. The base is
four by fifteen inches in size, and the pillars are
respectively six and ten inches in height, and are
firmly mortised and glued into the base. The
upper lever is eighteen inches in length, and con-
nects with the ten-inch lower lever.
The lead weights, sliding on the narrow edges of
the levers, balance each other, and show how the
heavy wagon of coal is balanced in the office by
the weight on the scale-beam.
A wedge made of oak ten inches in height and
five inches in width is indicated by Figure 4.
Figure 5 represents a diminutive pile-driver,
twenty-eight inches in length, showing the plan
and action of a large machine.
The two-pound drop-hammer falls a distance of
twenty-two inches in the grooves of the vertical
posts which are mortised and glued into the base,
as are also the oblique braces to which are attached






























D~-vE


DRAWN BY J. ABDON DONNEGAN.


Fig. i.
FURNACE


Fi4WEDq~F,





THE HANDIWORK OF SOME CLEVER BOYS.


the bobbin, or axle, and crank, on which the cord
is wound that raises the hammer. This hammer is
a flat piece of iron having two pieces of wood, each
four by two and one-half inches in size, cemented
to it. A wire hook is attached just above, and the
extended arm of the hook as the weight nears the
top, meets a projecting pin, and slips the weight
from the cord.
Figure 6 is the model of a wood-press useful in
pressing flowers for an herbarium. The base and
pressure board are each ten inches square, the sup-
ports eight inches in height, and a wooden screw
connected with the upper board turns in the cross-
piece. This and the models shown in the draw-
ings numbered 3, 5, and o1 were made by Harry
Stcecker.
Figure 7 represents the model of an inclined
railway constructed upon the plan of the inclined
railway actually in use between Hoboken and
Jersey City Heights. A board forty-five inches in
length and ten inches in width connects the ter-
minal platforms of this model. The upper plat-
form rests on a support thirty-three inches in
height; to this support is attached an axle turned
by a crank, on which are wound the reversed
cords which connect with the ascending and de-
scending platforms. These platforms are mounted
on rollers and the cars while in motion are kept in
a horizontal position. This model was constructed
by Everett L. Thompson.
The same boy constructed also the model shown
in Figure 8 a dumb-waiter with original ar-
rangement of cords and pulleys. The frame is
thirty-six inches in height, eleven inches in width,
and five inches in depth. Inside, a carrier with
shelves is raised by a cord passing over four pulleys,
the action of which may be seen through glass
slips fitted in grooves. To the end of a cord is at-
tached a weight which balances the weight of the
carrier and contents. The frame-work was stained
a dark mahogany color, oiled and varnished.
Figure 9 represents a miniature guillotine as
made by David W. Benedict. It was copied after
one brought from France and exhibited at a well-
known museum in New York City.
The frame is twenty-two inches in height, and
the block to which is fastened the tin blade, falls
through the grooves in the posts to the rest upon
which lies the head of the criminal. The cord
raising the block runs over the pulleys, and is
wound on the cleat when not in use. A box
beneath receives the head of the imaginary victim
as it falls. The machine with the exception of the
blade was painted in bright vermilion and var-
nished.
Figure o1 shows a small derrick constructed
after a sketch of one used in the erection of the


Madison Avenue bridge across the Harlem River.
A mast of maple twenty-seven inches in length is
mortised into an oak base, ten by twelve inches in
size. A projecting arm, or jib, is fastened to the
mast by a clasp of heavy tin. A cord and pulley
keep the jib at a proper angle with the mast.
The weight is hooked to a double pulley connected
with the single pulley near the end of the jib; the
cord, passing over a wheel in the mast and then
passing downward, is wound upon the axle by turn-
ing the crank; a toothed wheel and ratchet stops the
weight at the desired height. Neater pulleys than
could be purchased were made by joining two
wooden buttons and placing them in a whittled
frame bound with piano-wire. The mast and jib
were painted a dark blue and the base was polished
and varnished.
Figure II shows a model of a foundry crane,
much admired for its accuracy of design and fin-
ish. It was made by George Chase, of seasoned
maple with iron and brass connections. A swinging
jib is pivoted at the top to a brass plate screwed to
the cross-piece of the frame, and turns on a steel
pin fitted to a plate on the base. A carriage travels
along the jib, being kept at the required distance by
a cord passing over a wheel at the end of the jib.
A cord attached to the carriage passes over a pulley
connected with the weight, and also over the wheel
of the carriage, to the wheel directing it to the axle,
which is turned by a cog-wheel and pinion taken
from an old clock.
The carrier of the elevator shown in Figure 12
is hoisted by a cord passing over a small iron pulley
fixed to the cross-beam of the grooved posts, and
thence to the spool, or axle turned by a crank.
A clock-spring attached to a square wooden ro-
sette is shown by Figure 13.
Figure 14 represents a pump improvised by John
B. Cartwright from an old mincing-machine.
A handle turns a series of spur-wheels, which in
turn give a rapid motion to a twelve-inch walking-
beam. To one end of this walking-beam is attached
a piston-rod, with a soft rubber disk working in a
brass cylinder five inches long and three and a half
inches in diameter. Iron fittings, including two
brass valves, one on each side, connect with the
cylinder; an air-chamber is formed with a fitting
and cap. The suction caused by the upward
motion of the piston will draw water from a pail or
cup through a rubber tube connected with the end
fitting of the right-hand valve, then through the
valve to the cylinder; the downward motion of
the piston causes the water to pass through the
left-hand valve to the receiving vessel, and the
air-chamber tends to make the flow regular.
Parts of the machine were painted blue and
striped with gold bronze.


549


~

















































































































SIMPLE MECHANICAL APPARATUS MADE BY BOYS UNDER FOURTEEN YEARS OF AGE.-DRAWN BY J. ABDON DONNEGAN.





A NEW VIEW OF THE MOON.


By the removal of one pane of glass from a win-
dow facing south, the apparatus shown in Figure 15
may be used, like a magic lantern, to project trans-
parencies, in a darkened room.
A pine board, fourteen inches square and one
inch in thickness, has an opening in the middle to
receive a wooden frame seven inches square, hold-
ing a six-inch cosmorama lens, having a focus of
eighteen inches. A three-inch plano-convex lens
having a focus of nine inches, mounted in a wooden
frame, slides along a slit or opening in a board
hinged to the inner side of the board which is
cleated to the window.
A plate-glass mirror, eight by fifteen inches in size,
issecured to a board hinged to a wooden rod, which
can be turned from the inside, and is raised and
lowered by a cord winding on a key. The mirror
is lowered and inclined until the sunlight is re-
flected through the lenses, and then a circle of in-
tense light, from ten to fifteen feet in diameter
appears on the wall or screen. Both lenses will
not cost more than two dollars, and the apparatus
will most impressively illustrate experiments in
light and sound.
An easily made electric lamp is shown by Figure
16. An Argand chimney is fastened to a wooden
base, with the cement known as "Stratena," and
partly filled with water. A cork coated with paraf-
fine is placed inside the chimney, and a rod of car-
boin twelve inches long and one-sixteenth of an inch
in thickness being inserted in the cork, the upward
pressure of the water on the cork causes the end
of the carbon rod to come in slight contact with a
thick rod of carbon which is fastened obliquely to
a square piece of wood, cemented near the top of
the chimney. A brass chip fastened to the wood
keeps the thin rod of carbon in position, and when
two copper wires connect the carbons with six to
ten jars of a bichromate battery, a light appears
where the two carbons meet. As the thin rod
wastes away, the cork rises and keeps the end of


the rod almost in contact with the other carbon
point.
An ambition to creditably make a mechanical
contrivance or apparatus is noticeably characteristic
of many boys. The construction of an aquarium,
a sailboat, or a telescope, or some similar object,
is of absorbing interest to such lads; and the mak-
ing of the electrical apparatus of straws, sealing-
wax, etcetera, once described by Professor Tyndall,
has merely tasked the ingenuity of thinking boys to
improve upon the apparatus.
Many educators maintain that manual training
of a pleasant character, adapted to the age of the
pupils, should form an essential element in the
education of boys and girls, and should be placed
on a par with the regular studies. There is no
doubt that such instruction stimulates ambition
and tends to develop taste, skill, and natural
invention. At the same time an insight into
mechanical occupations, with some practical ex-
perience in the handling of tools, may assist a boy
in choosing a calling suited to his taste, and better
prepare him to enter some practical industry, if his
choice should incline toward such an occupation.
A few years ago, manual training in modeling,
wood-carving, carpentry, forge-work, and other
branches, was introduced into a technical course
in the College of the City of New York, in East
Twenty-third street. To-day it is one of the
most interesting features of the College work,
and is highly appreciated by the students. Private
schools in this city, as also some of the public
and private schools of Boston and Philadelphia,
have introduced the workshop into their methods
of instruction, and devote a few hours in each
week to practical and manual labor.
The models illustrated in this article represent
many well spent and helpful hours of recreation,
and other boys may find pleasure and profit in
making similar use of their leisure time and their
powers of handicraft.


A NEW VIEW OF THE MOON.

BY EVA LOVETT CARSON.


A LITTLE boy just two years old,
Or maybe two months older,
Came riding home across the lot,
Perched on his father's shoulder.

"Look, Oswald! Hold your head up straight!
(Do stop that dreadful drumming!)
See, just above where Mamma stands
A little moon is coming! "


The baby lifts his round blue eyes;
The moon laughs at their glancing.
To see the wonder of his gaze
'Most sets the moon a-dancing.

Frowning, he solved the problem soon;
Indignantly he spoke it:
"Papa, dat's not the big wound moon;
I fink somebody b'oke it!"






JACK-IN -THE-PULPIT.


l :-




.' *. -
,I . I -















i JACK IN THE -PULPIT.

AWAY-ho, away! Let us off on a quest!


To the West, to find where the sunsets go
When the skies are as red as roses a-blow;
To the East, to see whence the mornings come;
To the South, the Summer to track to her home;
To the North, by the gleam of the Polar Star,
And Night's aurora flaming afar,
To seek, in the keen and biting weather,
The lodestone that holds the world together.

Now and then somebody writes out the very
thoughts of the birds; and then again, others tell
me very prettily just what they think ought to be
felt by the tuneful-minded little creatures. Here,
for instance, comes this scrap of verse from my
friend Emily A. Braddock that I hope not only
you children, but all of my birds will hear. I
don't allude so much to the sparrows and such
stay-at-homes as to my migratory, or go-away
birds. I 'm sure they'd be delighted at a poet's
way of putting things. It will give them some-
thing to go for. As for myself, I've not started yet,
so we '11 proceed to discuss a certain odd saying
for which it seems the world is indebted to one
sort of these migratory birds:

"EVERYTHING IS LOVELY, AND THE GOOSE
HANGS HIGH."
THIS expression, the Little School-ma'am says,
is a corruption of an old-fashioned saying that
originated in the early days of this country.
As most of you know, wild geese, when they
migrate in autumn, form themselves into lines
shaped like the letter V, the leader flying at the
point, the two lines following; and as they sail
away, far above the trees, and beyond all danger


from guns -on those cold mornings when the air
is clear, and the sky beautifully blue-they seem
full of glee, and join in a chorus, "Honk, honk,
honk! "
Any one who has heard those curiously sound-
ing notes, the Little School-ma'am says, never
could mistake them for anything else. And the
folks on the earth below who heard the birds' wild
call, in old times, realized the happiness of the
winged creatures in being so high and safe. And
so it became quite natural, when two persons met
each other under peculiarly favorable circumstances
for this or that enterprise, for them to say: "Every-
thing is lovely and the goose honks high!"

GIRLS! TO THE RESCUE!

BEFORE we leave our dear birds, moreover, I
have a special message for you this month in their
behalf:
You must not forget, friend Jack," says the
Deacon, to give the boys and girls, especially
the girls, my May-time sermon about the Audubon
Society."
Forget it? Not I, indeed! Nor would you, if
you could have seen the honest and hearty in-
dignation of the good Deacon and the Little
School-ma'am, as he read to her a printed circular
telling all about the monstrous wrong which the
Audubon Society has nobly begun to fight. You
must know, dear girls, that this "monstrous
wrong" is the custom of wearing feathers and skins
of birds on your hats and dresses. As I am an hon-
est Jack, I don't see how girls and their mammas,
who, as everybody knows, are supposed to have
hearts more tender than men or boys, could ever
havebeen induced to follow so abominable a fashion.
"Abominable" is rather a strong word, I sup-
pose; but it is the very one which the good Deacon
used when he read the printed slip. And the Little
School-ma'am-bless her!-actually gave a nod
of satisfaction when she heard it. As for me, no
word would be too strong to express my feelings
on the subject.
But I '11 be content now with giving you what
the Deacon calls "two plain facts" about this
fashion, and letting them speak for themselves.
"You must know then," says the Deacon, that
a single collector of ornamental feathers in this
country has declared that he handles every year
about thirty thousand bird-skins, almost all of which
are used for millinery purposes; and that another
man collected from the shooters in one small dis-
trict within four months, about seventy thousand
birds!
"Now, Jack," adds the Deacon, "tell your
young hearers to ask themselves and their parents,
whether this slaughter shall continue ? The Audu-
bon Society says 'no!' Its membership is free
to every one who is willing to lend a helping hand
to its objects. And its objects are to prevent as
far as possible, first, the killing of any wild birds
not used for food; second, the destruction of nests
or eggs of wild birds; and third, the wearing of
feathers as ornaments or trimmings for dress. And


[MAY,


552






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


certainly women and girls can do much, in fact
everything, for this third object."
All the older readers of ST. NICHOLAS will
remember the army of bird-defenders which it
established years ago. The Deacon says that
there is a call for a new army, and all that you
need do to join it, my girls, is to refuse to wear
feathers on your hats or dresses. If all the women
and girls who now follow that cruel fashion would
but abandon it, the needless slaughter of the birds
would soon be at an end.

ABOUT LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.
FELIXSTOW," BRIGHTWOOD (NEAR WASHINGTON).
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT : I am a little boy just six years old.
I live in the country about six miles from Washington. I am very
much interested in reading Little Lord Fauntleroy," because Mrs.
Burnett, the lady who wrote it, was out at our house last spring,
and told us the story, and I want to see if she changed it before she
put it in thebook. 1 tell you, her own little boys, Lionel and Vivian,
are nice fellows to play with I have a nice pony named Joe, lots
of chickens, a dog, and two cats, but I like digging in the ground
most. I raised a lot of pop-corn last year. Somebody is writing
this for me, but I am telling him what to write. My little brother
Paul bothers me considerably when I want to make things.
Good bye, dear Jack; you are a nice fellow. Your friend,
FELIX RENOUP HOLT.
"Felix is not alone," says the Little School-
ma'am, "in his admiration for Little Lord Faun-
tleroy. The children of the Red School House all
are charmed with his lordship, and for myself 1
consider him one of the very sweetest and noblest
little boys in English literature."

FISHING FOR NECKLACES.
ACCORDING to my friend, Ernest Ingersoll, a
large proportion of the red coral used by jewelers
in making ornaments comes from the Mediterra-
nean coast of Algeria, where it is gathered chiefly by
an ingenious machine. Nets, the meshes of which
are loose, are hung on the bars of a cross, and
dragged at the bottom of the sea among the nooks
and crevices of the rocks. These nets, winding
about the branches of the coralline growth, break
off its branches, which adhere to the meshes.
When he thinks it is laden, the fisherman draws
the net to the surface and helps himself to the
coral. This is sold in various markets, and after-
ward worked into ornaments, necklaces, brace-
lets, and other pretty articles for girls and their
mammas.
A SUGGESTION TO THE BOTTLED FISH.
READING, MASS..
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I read in the February number about
the bottled fish. I think it is very queer. In Grimm's Fairy
Tales" there is a story about a fox that crept into a hole where there
was something to eat. After he ate it he grew so fat that he could
not get out, and he stayed there till the farmer found him and killed
him. I suppose it was the same way with the fish, only he fed on
oysters, and as I think there are no farmers at the bottom of the sea,
he stayed there till he was drawn up. It I had been that fish, I would
have starved myself till I was thin enough to get out. I have taken
ST. NICHOLAS since I was two years old, and my mamma says she
brought me up on it, so you see I have been well brought up.
I remain yours truly, E. S. K. PACKARD.

THE NEWSPAPER PLANT.
You are to be told in this month's ST. NICHO-
LAS, I hear, about a curious "lace-leaf," a "veg-
etable necktie," and a "caricature plant." If so,
this is a good time for me to show you a curi-


osity called the newspaper plant, which the Little
School-ma'am described the other day to the young
folk of the Red School House.
It seems that in certain far-away countries called
New Mexico and Arizona, there are great tracts
of desolate desert lands, where the very hills seem
destitute of life and beauty, and where the earth is
shriveled from centuries of terrible heat. And in
these desert-tracts grow a curious, misshapen, gro-
tesque and twisted plant that seems more like a
goblin tree than a real one.
Of all the trees in the world, you would
imagine this to be the most outcast and worthless
-so meager a living does it obtain from the waste
of sand and gravel in which it grows. And yet this
goblin tree is now being sought after and utilized
in one of the world's greatest industries-an indus-
try that affects the daily needs of civilization, and
is of especial importance to every girl and boy who
reads the pages of ST. NICHOLAS.
Those wise folk, the botanists, call our goblin
tree by its odd Indian name of the "Yucca" palm.
This plant of the desert for a long time was
considered valueless. But not long ago it was dis-

t,--
,; .V,
,a ,





S -, ,
I '.. .,:7


THE YUCCA PALM.


covered that the fiber of the Yucca could be made
into an excellent paper." And now one of the
great English dailies, the London Telegrafh, is
printed upon paper made from this goblin tree.
Indeed, the Telegraph has purchased a large plan-
tation in Arizona, merely for the purpose of culti-
vating this tree, and manufacturing paper from it.
So, you see, the Yucca is now a newspaper plant.

ONE MORE LIVING BAROMETER.
DEAR JACK : As you have told us so much about living barom-
eters, I want to tell you that I have one. Mine is a red squirrel.
Just before a "cold snap she willbe surly and sleepy. When
she is angry, she will spread her lower teeth apart. She will play
like a kitten. I call her Gipsy, and she is my chief pet.
Your constant reader, M. M. M.


* For an article describing the manufacture of paper, see ST. NICHOLAS for August, 1884, page 808.


' -. ,
" 1 -J-






[MAY,


THE LETTER-BOX.





EDITORIAL NOTES.


IN a note which accompanied the article in our present number,
"When Shakspere was a Boy," Miss Kingsley desires us to state
that she owes much valuable information about charms (mentioned
on page 488), and also about Shaksperean games and customs, to
Mr. Richard Savage, of the Shakspere Birthplace Museum, Strat-
ford-on-Avon.


IN his story of "The Great Snow-ball Fight," printed in our
March number, Mr. Barnard showed how some boys put out the
fire in the Widow Lawson's house, by snow-balling it. This may


have appeared to some readers almost impossible, but it was based
upon an actual occurrence. And an instance of that mode of at least
preventing a fire, was recorded in the New York papers of February
inth. It appears in an account of the burning of the stables of the
Meadow Brook Hunt Club, at Hempstead, Long Island. "No
modern appliance for extinguishing fire was at hand," says one
journal, "but there was plenty of snow, and this was banked up
about the adjoining stables, and undoubtedly saved them from being
burned. Whenever sparks from the burning building fell on the
adjacent barns, they were quickly extinguished by well-directed
snow-balls thrown upon them."


THE LETTER-BOX.


CONCORD, N. H.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Lena and I play dolls very often, but the
latest game we play is throwing cards into a hat placed on the floor
about six feet away. Lena put i. thirty-two out of fifty-two. If you
have room enough to print this in your Letter-box, I should like to
read it.
Yours truly, RUTH A. M.

THAT is a very nice game, Ruth, although six feet seems a long
distance for a small girl to toss the cards. We have seen grown
folk try the game at four feet, and then several of them could not put
one in twenty into the hat; so Lena's score of thirty-two out of fifty-
two is a fine one. The game can be played with any kind of cards,
and with sides or by individuals. The largest number of cards
thrown into the hat, either by one person or by a side, makes the
winning score. If played by sides, not more than twenty cards
should be used, and each side should play five rounds, thus making
one hundred the highest possible score for any player.


MIDDLETOWN, CONN.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am anxious to have the March number
come, so that I can see how Little Lord Fauntleroy's grandfather
treats him. That serial story I enjoy very much. I go to a private
girls'school in the morning, and study German in the afternoon with
my mother.
With much love I am your faithful reader,
HELEN W. A.

PROVIDENCE, R. I.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: This is the first time that I have written
to you.
I have a funny story to tell about a mouse. My canary bird used
to hang up in our nursery-window on a chain. Sometimes in the
evening or night, we would hear mice running around, and in the
morning we would find that some of the seed was gone. Mamma
thought it was a mouse, but w-e did not think so. Papa had been
trying to catch them in a trap, but did not catch many. We then
thought that we would try another way. So Papa took the cage
down and put a pail of water on the chain, and when the little mouse
went up the chain, as he used to do, instead of going in the cage,
he went in the pail of water and was drowned. This is a true story.
I am eleven years old. Good-bye.
am your constant reader, B. G. H.


CARRINGTON, DAKOTA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: You do not know me at all, but I know
you and love you so much When you were brought to me this
morning I almost kissed your bright face for joy. It was stormy
this morning, and I was tired playing with kitty; besides that I had
been waiting so long to read some more about Little Lord Fauntleroy i
He is such a brave, wise little boy Will you ask Mrs. Burnett to
please not make him unhappy with his grandfather? Ever since
we had our Christmas entertainment, I have wanted to tell you
about it, but have been too sick to write you. We called it "An
Evening with Mother Goose and the Brownies." Yes,-we had all
the cute little boys in Carrington dressed up like Brownies. They
did mischief very nicely, all quietly in their stocking-feet. While


Mother Goose was singing her melodies, they came and stole away
her goose, and they pelted Mother Hubbard with paper balls when
she sang that song in the ST. NICHOLAS: I had an Educated Pug."
In the tableaux, they tripped up Jack andJill, upset Blue-beard, stole
Jack Homer's plum, overturned the bachelor's wheelbarrow, little
wife and all, let the spider down from a tree on little Miss Muf-
fett, and tied Bo-peep's sheep-tails to a tree, and woke her up with
their baa's. Then we had "The House that Jack built," just like
it is in the ST. NICHOLAS, for Nov. 1883. It was just splendid, and so
funny; but when the rat was to come out of The House that Jack
built," the cat had put his foot on the string and it broke, so the cat
couldn't come out. Then the maiden all forlorn picked up the rat,
threw it at the cat, and everybody just roared !
I am nine years old, and my name is,
THEODORA C.


NEW HARTFORD, IOWA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I believe the little girls that take the ST.
NICHOLAS will like to hear about my numerous paper dolls. I have
a whole town of them, and they all have their names written on their
backs. I was so interested in "The Firm of Big Brain, Little
Brain & Co." After I read it. I kept thinking what my "Big
Brain" was telegraphing. Well, my big brain telegraphs to my
hand, that if it writes any more, the letter will be too long to print.
So good-bye. I am
One of your many friends,
GRACE C.

WOODLAND, CAL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I think you are the nicest magazine in
the whole world. I think Little Lord Fauntleroy is a beautiful
story. It seems so real. Cedric reminds me of my little cousin
Birdie (that is his pet name). One day his aunt (who is an artist)
asked him if he did not want her to paint him. He said: I had
rather be as I are." He is nearly four years old. I live on a vine-
yard of 16o acres.


Your faithful reader,


LILLIAN H.


FORT ASSINABOINE, MON.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I commenced taking your paper five
months ago, and I think "Little Lord Fauntleroy" is the best story
I ever read.
We have plenty of skating here, and fifty ponies to ride.
Another boy is writing a letter to you too. We live 200 miles from
Helena and we have to go in a stage or wait till the river opens.
We only have to go to school in the morning, and we play all the
rest of the day. Yours truly, S. F. P.

BnOOKLYN, N. Y., 1886.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought that I would send you a letter at
last. I will tell you about our washwoman and me. I have
something the matter with my knee, and so I have to stay in the
house. Well, our washwoman and I were having some fun. I was
at the back parlor window, and the washwoman was down in the
back yard hanging up the clothes, and I got a snow-ball and threw
it at her, and you ought to have seen her! She looked up and down
and could not see anybody, and after a while she saw me, and then,
the way she looked! She said: I will give it to you! "
Yours truly, FRANK T.






THE LETTER-BOX.


EVERETT, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for a year and I could
not do without you. Every month you gladden our home with your
beautiful pictures, interesting stories, and pretty bits of poetry.
I think Little Lord Fauntleroy" is a splendid story. I must not
forget to mention the "Brownies." What busy little workers they
are I have one pet, a beautiful linnet. Her name is Daisy. She is
a very sweet singer.
I remain, your constant reader, MAY F.

KINGSTON, INDIANA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I do not see many letters from Indiana in
your Letter-box. I would not do without you for ten dollars a year.
I like your Natural History. I have several books on Natural
History.
Last year I wanted you so badly that Papa said I must earn the
money myself. I had enough, lacking fifty cents. We had an oyster
supper here, and papa gave me fifty cents to spend; so I did without
oysters and took you. I am thirteen years old.
Yours sincerely, ART. R.


MT. AUBURN, CINCINNATI, O.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I like your stories very much. I am a boy
seven years old. I do not go to school, but Mamma teaches me with
two little girls. I had a lovely Christmas. I got a locomotive, a
sword, a scarf, a marble game, a rolling-pin, a box to keep my pens
and pencils in, and some cards and books for Christmas. I think
you are the best book I ever read. This is the first year I began to
take you. I like the Brownies" best. Tell Mr. Palmer Cox to put
"Brownies" in every ST. NICHOLAS. Please don't forget to print
my letter, for I have written it all myself, and spelled it without any
help.
I had two kittys, and their names were Mitten and Topsy. We
gave away Mitten and kept Topsy, but after a while we lost Topsy,
and then we found another kitty, but she ran away. I am sorry they
went away, for I love kittys. Good-bye, dear ST. NICHOLAS, 1 am so
glad it is most time for you to come again. Please don't forget
to print my letter, for I love you so much!
Your loving friend, RALPH B. R.

LEWISBURG, W. VA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have just finished reading the February
number, and I think that Little Lord Fauntleroy" and "George
Washington" are splendid! I am a little girl ten years old. Have
taken you for four years.
I have ever so many uncles and aunts. One of my aunts sends
you to me. Your loving reader, DOTTIE M.

WYOMINGt, DEL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have never written to you before, but I
love to read the letters others have sent you. You have been coming
to our house nearly three years, and we all look anxiously for the
26th of the month, when you are due. You are my own book. I
pay for you with money I have earned myself. My little sister
wonders whenever she sees ST. NICHOLAS what the Brownies are
doing in it. Mamma is much interested in "Little Lord Fauntle-
roy," and we like it too, and all the rest of your stories, but
especially "The Gilded Boy of Florence," because we know the
man who wrote it and have heard him preach. He says all he wrote
in that story is true. Good-bye.
Ever your faithful reader. C. LIZZIE B.


LONDON, ENGLAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am an American girl who left New York
four years ago, during which time I have been a constant reader of
ST. NICHOLAS. My school friends who read English all want it
also. You have been forwarded to me from London as far as Tur-
key and Egypt. And so, if you can only spare a few minutes, I would
like to tell you about the pyramids and the sphinx.
From Shepherd's Hotel, Cairo, it is a beautiful drive of seven miles
through an archway of large trees by the side of the Nile. There
are several pyramids. The chief one is said to be 463 feet high, and
one would think the top would be very small; but you will no doubt
be surprised to hear that the Khedive gave a dinner to twenty-four
guests upon the top of a pyramid. The dinner was served in the usual
manner by Arab waiters; the gentlemen walked up, while the ladies
were carried up in chairs. The pyramids are built like stairs,- one
stone on top the other, with only an edge for a foothold.
Many tourists try to climb the structure, which is very fatiguing
work. We gave an expert Arab fifty cents to do it in ten minutes;
he went up in six minutes and down in four minutes. From the pyra-
mid to the sphinx is quite a little walk through thick sand; and the
Sphinx is so big you can hardly see it all at once. The English sol-
diers knocked off some of its right hand and all its nose. It is cut
from a solid rock and looks as black as iron. The Egyptian postage
stamps have pictures of both the pyramid and the sphinx. The tem-


ple dedicated to the sphinx lies in ruins here, but the remains are
very beautiful, being nearly all of alabaster; and in the cellar they
have just discovered an image, which is so immense they can't
get it out from the place where it has lain so many hundred
years. Some time I will write a letter about the Holy Land, as 1
lived there two months. I hope you will print my letter; it is my
first attempt, and I am fourteen years old. Your March number will
find me at Alexandria, for I take the Beyrouth steamer next week.
I hope, dear ST. NICHOLAS, your Egyptian friend has not tired you,
and I also hope this may find place in your Letter-box.
Your loving Egyptian friend, MAUD STANLEY F.


MOHEGAN LAKE, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I send you this letter, a true story about a
fish-hawk.
It was in the middle of April, 1883. A man who was rowing on one
of those lakes east of the Highlands, in the northern part of Westches-
ter County, espied a large fish-hawk sitting on a dead limb near the
water. The man, having his gun with him, rowed over toward the
hawk, and when in range fired at him flying. The wounded bird
fell, hit on the outer joint of the left wing. With the help of his
companion the man managed to bring him home. In less than a
week, the boy of the house fed him with fish out of his own hands,
and the hawk did not attempt to claw him. One day the boy wanted
to see how many pounds of fish the hawk would eat. He caught
seven suckers weighing a pound and a half each. The hawk ate six,
one after another, and took the seventh, but refused to eat it until
half an hour afterward. What an enormous appetite he had Later
on in the summer, the boy would take him to the water to wash. He
did it just as a canary does in his china bath. The boy would
take him and put him on the side of the boat and row him around,
and the hawk would sit there, taking in everything, as well as the
summer visitors, who were taking him in. The hawk was so tame
that his keeper could smooth his head and chuck him under his
beak and the hawk would only flop his wings and whistle when the
boy turned, as though delighted with what the boy did. This creat-
ure measured five feet eleven inches from tip to tip of the wings, and
came to his death in October of the same year, by getting caught
in the string by which he was fastened, greatly to the sorrow of his
keeper who cared for him. The bird is now stuffed and in a friend's
room in New York City. Yours truly, S. F. K. E. G.

CINCINNATI, O.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would writeto you to say
what so many of the other girls and boys who take you have already
said: "That I love every one of your stories and can hardly wait
until the 25th of.the month comes, to read you." I have taken you
two years and would not be withoutyou one single month. I live in
the dirty city of Cincinnati, but I have a great deal of fun any way.
We have had two snowstorms this winter, but by the time the
snow has lain on the ground three or four days it is so black that I
actually believe that people who come from the country would not
know it was snow unless they were told.
I will now close, hoping to have the pleasure of seeing this letter
printed. I remain, your constant reader,
GRACE S. C.
P. S. I forgot to say I was thirteen years old and have a brother
nine years old, who thinks the ST. NICHOLAS "a dandy," as he
expresses it.

MORE ABOUT CURVE-PITCHING.
LINCOLN Co., NEB.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The two letters in the February number
on "curve-pitching," 1 was very glad to see. It was during my
college-days that the "curve made its appearance, and it was for
some time a matter of much interesting discussion among us. I was
not much of a base-ball man, but I saw a good deal of curve-pitch-
ing, and occasionally threw some rather wild "curves myself in
an amateurish way. We budding physicists discussed the why and
wherefore of the problem, but never arrived at any satisfactory solu-
tion. The same explanation which is given in the second letter of
your February number suggested itself to me at the time, and I was
quite satisfied with it until I discovered that it did not accord with
the facts of the case. It is a beautiful theory, but, like some other
theories, it doesn't work.
According to the theory, as shown by your correspondent, the
ball rotating (as indicated by his diagram which he gives), against
the hands of the watch should curve to the right, producing the
in curve. But the fact is, that a ball so rotating will curve to the
left the out curve. And a ball rotating in a contrary direction.
i. e., so that points on its forward side are moving to the right, will
curve to the right- the in curve. In both cases the axis of rotation
is vertical, so that the motions of the ball may be well illustrated by
a spinning-top, as is shown in the first letter by A. D. S. But the
case of a rifle-ball in motion does not seem to me to be parallel with
that ofa base-ball under normal conditions. A rifle-ball is given a
rotation about an axis parallel to and coincident with its line of
flight, just as an arrow rotates on its shaft. Now, none of the
curves of a base-ball are produced with the axis of rotation in this


555







THE LETTER-BOX.


position. In the in and out curves, as already said, the axis of rota-
tion is vertical; while the rise and drop are produced by rotating
the ball about a horizontal axis perpendicular to the line of flight.
In all cases the axis of rotation muastbe at right angles to the line
of flight, and the more accurately this condition is complied with,
the more marked the effect. My knowledge of the subject is too
slight to warrant me in asserting that the curving of the rifle-ball and
that of the base-ball do not depend on the same principle, but it does
not seem to me that the two are identical, for the above reasons.
I have no theory to offer, but trust that among the readers of ST.
NICHOLtS some may be found who have penetrated to the true
inwardness of this interesting problem, and will give us a complete
and scientific explanation of it. Yours truly, H. H. H.

BEVERLY, OHIO.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read with considerable interest the
letters in ST. NICHOLAS for February concerning curve-pitching. I
am a boy who takes great interest in base-ball, and have many times
pitched curves. I have seen persons, and see them yet, who firmly
maintain that a ball cannot be curved, even when they have ocular
demonstration of the fact. But that has nothing to do with what I
have to say. I have studied the diagram of my anonymous friend,
and am convinced that he is exactly wrong. With the following
diagrams I shall show which way a ball curves with a given rotation,
and give my theory of the curve:


^-Zoo.eon s.-
lo looos.






.o.s. B.


'fi


.ikreciom z'4w5iclI
tLe Bst is rlr-oawrw.



)krectsiot in wA;cfl
-thak alZ is Thrown./.


e oaeF


Suppose, as in the letter published, the ball moves one hundred
feet per second, and revolves so that the equator moves around at
the same rate. Then, in the first diagram, the friction at B is greatest,
and at D is o. But instead of curving as my anonymous friend
demonstrates, it will curve in exactly the offosite direction; namely,
in the same direction in which it rotates.
I have appended diagram 2, simply to show the curve where the
friction is o at B and greatest at D. Then it will curve as indicated.
I have a short theory, namely: In the first diagram, the more
rapid movement of B compresses the air on that side, while at D it
is in its normal state. Hence the pressure at B more than counter-
balances that at D, and, as it were, shoves the ball in the direction
of the side D, thus producing the curve. In the 2d diagram, the let-
ters B and D interchange in the theory. I would like to hear more
about this subject. Very respectfully yours, F. C. J.

BIRMINGHAM, MICH.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read with great interest the arti-
cles in the October, December, and February numbers, about curve-
pitching. I have had quite a good deal of experience in the "one,-
two,-three,-and-out" line myself, and have also, for the last two or
three years, been able to make others have the same experience,
by putting them out, in the same way. Therefore, I venture a reply
to the explanation in the February number, backing my statement
by the experience of many eminent curve-pitchers, and also by the
storyin the October number of "How Science Won the Game."

14 P




3.B

The above diagram is the same as your correspondent uses, and he
asserts that the point B is moving faster than D; consequently,
there is more friction at B, whence B is retarded more than D,
and so the ball will curve toward W in the path of the dotted line.


Now, if he will look in the story of How Science Won the Game,"
where the base-ball editor shows the boys how to hold and how
to throw the ball to make the different curves, he will find that when
he throws the ball so that it whirls as shown in diagram, it will curve
toward P, a direction entirely opposite from the one he designates.
And any curve-pitcher will tell him the same. When I first read his ex-
planation, I thought it was all right, for it looks quite reasonable, but
upon second thoughts, I saw it was wrong, and to make sure, I took
a ball and tried it. The only way I can get around his explanation
(aside from actual fact) is this: The point B, as he clearly shows,
is moving faster than D, and so the ball, if the friction of the air is
taken away, will naturally curve toward the side D or point P. Now,
the question is, Will the friction of the air be enough greater on the
side B to overcome the difference in the motions of the two sides?
If it is, the ball must move in a straight line, but as it curves
toward the side D, we must conclude that it is not, and that the
friction of the air tends more to hinder than to help the ball to
curve. I really believe that if it could be tried, a person could make
a ball curve in a vacuum more easily than we can make it curve in
the air. Trusting to hear more upon this subject, I remain, sin-
cerely yours, "A CURVER."


FREMONT, NEB.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have never written to you before, but I
think perhaps you will publish this one letter. I hope you will
publish it, as I have never yet had anything of mine published.
I like the story entitled, "How Science Won the Game." Al-
though I am but thirteen years old I think I can pitch a curve. I go
to the Fremont Normal School and like it very much.
I am going to have the 1884 and 1885 ST. NICHOLAS bound next
week. I think you have a very entertaining magazine, and I think
the pictures are very nice. I have the magazine for a Christmas
present every year. I have taken ST. NICHOLAS three years and
I hope I may always take it.
Papa says he does n't think you will publish this, but I think you
will. Yours truly, EDDIE H. B.



AvER, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As so many of your readers have written
to you, I thought I would write too, that I might have the pleasure
of seeing my letter in print.
I have taken you a year and have fallen greatly in love with your
delightful pages.
I think How Science Won the Game is a lovely story; I felt
much interested in it, for last summer the girls of my age who lived
here got up a base-ball nine. In time, we played very nicely and
enjoyed the fun. The readers of the Letter-box may think this a
funny game for girls to play, but we liked it and found it very good
exercise.
I am fifteen years old; I have a little dog, his name is Teddie;
he is a very good little dog, but I pity the cat that gets in his way.
I like to read From Bach to Wagner," as I enjoy reading of dif-
ferent composers. Your true reader, RUTH F.



WE heartily thank the young friends whose names here follow, for
pleasant letters received from them: Kate Ethel C., John Myers,
Sadie B. Crane, G. M. F., Jamie H., Walter J. Cohen, Stuart
L. Martin, George Williams, Eddie L. Goodman, Violette T.
Haines, Lillie M. Grubbs, Freda Nicolai, Eva Wilkins, Miriam
Ferry, Hortie O'Meara, Anna Ross, Clara Louise Whitney, Con-
stance and Richard Bigelow, E. R. B., J. H. B., Mary and Gussie,
Jessie Hiltner, Alberta Stout, Willis Dunning, Nellie E. Stebbins,
Marion R. Brown, A. W. Smith, Josie and May, Kate G., Hallie
H. Haines, Johnny B. S., Daisy, Gertie Beidler, Mary M. C.,
Charles L. Baldwin, Kitty Clover, Alice Olney, Emil Harrington,
Katie M. Cathcart, Arthur F. B., Agnes Hanks, Elizabeth K.
Stewart, Wade W. Thayer, Brooks Upham, Rosalie, Mamie Eells,
Florence Lanty, Frank Dearstyne, Vera Wheeler, Nellie McN.
Suydam, Elizabeth B. Grumball, Ida Cameron, Ethel Marion
Walker, Fawn Evans, Alfa P. Tyrrell, H. and A. V. P., G. P. S.,
Clara Moore, F. W. S., Portia, Nellie T., Eva R., Norine, Anna
M. Lister, Blanche E. Ives, Mary Hicks, Dolly Varden," Nora
T. C., Natie P. Thompson, Daniel McPhail, Mary E. Seavey,
Storrs E. E., H. C. J., Edith B., Kittie E. Fogarty, Frank Carman,
Ruth A., C. H. M., Richard D. Bennett, Anne Grey Millett, Addie
Rockwell. Laura Smith, Paula Goetz, Katie S. Denholm, Carl M.
Ruhlen, Thomas McKeone, W. C. T., Marion Loomis, Alice E.
Bogert, Gertrude E. S., Julian Granbery, B. M. S., Edward P,
Irwin, "The Five Friends," T. L., Kate B. Tilley, Irene S. Duer.
Violet Scath, Florence M. Wickes, E. W. B., May Delany, and
Bertha Sweet.


556


[MAY,







THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


AN ENGRAVED CHARTER FOR FRAMING.

OUR attention has been called to the fact that heretofore we have
sent to our Chapters no charters, or certificates, suitable for framing.
To remedy this deficiency, we have engaged one of the leading
firms of New-York City to design a very beautiful A. A. Charter,
to be handsomely engraved on bond or parchment paper. The
size of the charter will be about 12 x x8 inches or larger.
At the top is drawn an open ST. NICHOLAS, showing on one page
Prof. Agassiz's portrait, and on the other, representations of the
animal and vegetable kingdoms.
Above the magazine is our badge, the Swiss Cross; and below
is the motto, Per Naturam ad Deum. Then follows the certificate
proper, handsomely ornamented, bearing the name of the founder of
the Chapter, the name, number, and letter of the same, and signed
with the autograph of the President of the A. A. Of course the
first two hundred impressions-or artist's proofs-are the finest.
Many members are so pleased with them that they wish to secure
copies for their individual possession.
THE CLASS IN MINERALOGY.
NONE of the courses of study we have ever had the pleasure of
offering to our friends, has had the magnificent success which is
attending Prof. Crosby's class in mineralogy. At this writing no
less than eighty-nine pupils are enrolled, and as Chapters usually
take the course through one representative, this number doubtless
means that at the least five hundred persons are learning how to
observe and describe minerals, under most competentinstruction. To
each pupil is sent a set of thirty valuable specimens, and all exercises
are corrected and returned for revision. Geographically, the class
extends from Washington Territory to England.

REPORTS OF CHAPTERS.

WE have to begin again this month, as last, by presenting the
excellent reports of dilatory Chapters. A little more promptness here-
after, good secretaries, if you please!
37, Aingsboro, N. Y. By some mischance, your card notifying
me that our report is due has just come to my notice, and I hasten to
- :ite I: -.*-:,-, our candlestick may be removed." Last week three
..r- i gold-mine and brought home specimens of rock from
which gold is obtained, averaging about twenty dollars per ton.
The rock is dark, fine-grained, and resembles lime-stone. It effer-
vesces with acid. We have here beautiful specimens of the Azoic
rocks, and we could make up named collections to exchange for
other specimens.-W. W. Thomas, Box 711.
112, So. Boston. We number ten active and three honorary mem-
bers. During the year we have held twenty-two meetings, with an
average attendance of eight. In January we gave an entertainment,
and realized $o1.8o. In April we endeavored to establish an assem-
bly of the Chapters in this part of the State, but did not succeed.
During the year we have studied chemistry, zology, and astron-
omy. At one time we visited the Agassiz museum in a body, and
learned a great deal. Having seen now what we can do. I think we
shall all study harder during the coming year.-Geo. L. Whitehouse,
37 Gates street.

[Don't be discouraged; sw. shall Ihave a State Assembly in
Massachrusetts before many years.]

144, De Pere, Wis. We have eighteen members. Our room is
beginning to look very nicely. We added five new cases last fall.
We have 16oo geological specimens,- including 0ooo fossils,- 600
minerals, So birds, 500 plants, 400 shells, and 1oo ethnological speci-
mens.-A. S. Gilbert.


153, Chicago (E). At the Exposition here last fall, we had two
large cases, one containing minerals, the other fossils, which com-
pared favorably with any in the building, and did much toward
making our society known to the throng of visitors. We haveadded
new books to our library at no small expense. Our Paper is the
latest addition to our meetings, and contains original articles, clip-
pings, and the letters received.- Charles T. Mixer.
164, Jackson, Mich. (B). We have eight members, and expect
more soon. We all have natural histories of our own. We meet
once week, on Monday evening. We had a very pleasant field-
meeting by Clark's Lake. All our members are interested.-James
C. Wood.
168, Buffalo (C). During the summer there were some excur-
sions, which brought a number of specimens into the hands of our
curator. With the new year fresh courage has inspired most of us.
Our prospects are quite bright. We still have our standing com-
mittees in each department, and these have a report to make nearly
every week. Every two weeks we have an essay. Our next topic
is to be "Forests and their Utility." Besides this and the reading
and discussion of scientific essays, we have our weekly report on
the current scientific news, and notes and personal observations.
Chapter K of this city has joined us, and Chapter I thinks of follow-
ing the example of Chapter K.- Sophie Finkenstaedt
187, Albany, N. Y. (A). We have found time foroccasional meet-
ing among the heavy requirements of school-life; and as for myself, I
find our own back-yard a bewildering field for exploration. We have
ten active and eleven honorary members. Our meetings are held alter-
nate Wednesday evenings at the houses of members, and are always
well attended and interesting. At our next meeting- our second an-
niversary a special programme is tobe carried out. We are to de-
bate the comparative usefulness of astronomy and botany; have an
extra number of The Naturalist, our MS. paper; scientific essays,
readings and lectures. Albany A has never been more flourishing.
-John P. Gavit.
THIRD CENTURY.
215, Tioga Centre, N. Y. We have been steadily progressing in
ourdepartment-botany. Last autumn we made asters a specialty,
and succeeded in collecting and analyzing fourteen species and two
varieties. We are now ready to exchange promptly.- Angle Lati-
mer, Sec.
220, De Pere, Wis. (C.) Chapter C has disbanded. Please scratch
our number out.- Jessie R. Jackson.
[But wet ope the C/hafter will jumpp into another bush," so we
can scratch them in again I "]

234, Newo York, (G). We havejoined Chapter87, New York (B),
- F. W. Roos, 335 W. 27th street.
238, Winterset, Iowa. One of our charter members is dead; one
is in Oregon; two are away at college; one is in Mississippi. In fact,
there is nothing left of our Chapter. I am sorry, for I think the
Association work is a very great benefit to the members.- Harry
C. Wallace.
[Our correspondent will remember that by ourf resent rules even
one active member is allowed to maintain the honor, and retain
the number and name of a Chapter once properly organized. We
shall be disappointed if we do not meet him on the 24th of next
A ugust, at Davenport, Iowa, as the representative o/^a reorganized
and efficient Chalter.]

246, Bethlehem, Pa. We are in a very flourishing condition, and
now have fifteen members. Our cabinet is crowded with specimens,
all in good condition. We occupy a pleasant room rented by the


ISM.]


557







THE AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION.


Chapter. We shall enter the coming season with undiminished en-
thusiasm for the study of Nature.
248, Richmond, Va. An informal meeting was held, and twenty-
three of us boys were enrolled as members of a Chapter of the A. A.
We elected our teacher, Miss Jennie Ellett, President. Committees
were appointed to draft by-laws, build cabinets, etc. Instead of
forming a new society, Mrs. Marshall has kindly consented to let us
reorganize Chapter 248.- TV. T. Terry, Sec., 0o9 E. Grace St.
252, Utica, N. Y. We have a most flourishing Chapter of forty-
seven members. In the past year our school building was enlarged,
and a room was made purposely to hold our treasures. In it is a
cabinet overflowing with minerals, shells, and plants, 3 cases full of
lepidoptera, a forty-dollar microscope, and a cabinet, which the boys
are trying to fill with microscopical slides of their own manufacture.
We have also an aquarium 12 x 24 inches, stocked with fish, newts,
snails, turtles, etc., also a bird's egg cabinet that will hold several
hundred specimens, and a Wardia case, 36 x 18 inches, which we
are now using for hatching chrysalids. At our last meeting a cecropia
"came out," measuring over six and a half inches across the wings.
OurChapter is divided into committees,each committee having teach-
er for chairman. The committees are expected to furnish each week
specimens representing their special branches. Of all the subjects
before us the hardest nut to crack was, "What is a sea-bean ?"
but owing to indomitable perseverance, it has been most thoroughly
cracked.

[Please send us the kernel']

Agassiz's birthday was duly celebrated in the woods. Speeches
were made, poems recited, and the rest of the day devoted to a grand
specimen-hunt It rained hard all day, but that could not quench
the fire in this Chapter, and we returned home loaded down with
treasures. We have shells, mica, and lepidoptera for exchange.
The Chapter desires to express its deepest gratitude to the founder
of the A. A. for two delightful years.-Frances E. Newland, Sec.

[Such a delikttful report as the one which we have here con-
densed, is more than enough to repay one for all the labor connect-
ed with the A. A. The debt of gratitude is on the other side.]

254, Fulton, N. Y. We have started a library, and are now
studying ornithology. Our membership is reduced to three, but all
are active.- Herbert C. Howe.

[If three active members understand "Reduction Ascending,"
they will soon reducehememer te e ers o a dozen or more.]

256, Nwton, Upper Falls, Mass. The past year has been one
of gratifying progress. We number twelve. Our meetings are very
interesting, each member giving an account of some object in his
branch of study, often illustrating it by the specimen or describing
some book he has been reading, or relating some recent personal
experience. At the first meeting of each month a paper called
Gatherings is read, composed of original records of personal ob-
servations. Wishing to bring o nour Chapter and its work to the
knowledge of our friends, we have held a series of socials at the home
of one of our members. The first of the evening we have devoted to
talks and essays by the members of the Chapter, and later we have
played games, and amused ourselves in other ways. We find this
plan very beneficial, and have already gained three new members
and a present of books.-Mrs. J. M. H. Smith.

[W e commend this suggestive report to the earnest attention of
every Chapter.]

257, Plantsville, Ct. We have made large additions to our col-
lections. Our library also has been enlarged, and we have now
nearly ioo volumes. We decide on the subject for each coming
meeting in this way. Each member writes on a ballot the subject he
would prefer. The ballots are then shaken in a hat, and the one
drawn first is our subject. Moreover, the one whose ballot is suc-
cessful must furnish a paper on that subject, and all the others bring
short items on the same subject. We closed our last meeting by a
collation, and singing by our glee club.-A. L. Ely, Box 2z9.
26o, Mercer, Pa. We have not been idle, and have quite a col-
lection. We think every Chapter should keep a scrap-book for enter-
ing reports and clippings.- Mrs. H. M. Magoffin.
272, West Town, N. Y.--Most of us are attending school away
from home. We therefore disband through the winter, and then


reorganize for the summer vacation, and work as much as we can,
for we have farm work to do besides. Still we can study as we
work, and we do this. Our minerals are all labeled and mounted.
We have about 200 birds' eggs, some of them quite rare. We pride
ourselves on our insects. I think we have 300, still am not positive.
Our botanical specimens number 200. The work we have done,
though not very great, has done us a great amount of good.-William
Evans, Sec.

SOME IMPORTANT QUESTIONS.

MANCHESTER, VT.
I AM1 extremely anxious to experiment during the coming season
with the American silk-producing worms, not for the purpose of
producing raw silk, but for other reasons of scientific and practical
interest. I wish to learn the best books for giving a knowledge of
the habits of A ttacus Cecropia, Polyphemts, and the Promethean
moths. I shall be glad of any information regarding the best places
to find their cocoons. I should like to hear of the experience of
others in finding cocoons, and raising the moths. I have M.
Trouvelot's papers on the subject, Dr. Garlick's letters on his experi-
ments; also Dr. Stirling's, Prof. Riley's report on Silk Production
No. ni, Packard's "Our Common Insects," Sir John Lubbock's
SOrigin and Metamorphosis of Insects." I should ike the addresses
of aiy parties who have cocoons of the said moths to dispose of;
and finally, information regarding the success or failure of any who
may have tried the experiment of raising the worms.
Very truly yours, C. F. ORVIS.

[Mr. Orvis s a member of the A. A., has been for years engaged
in an important manufacturing business, and we trust may obtain
from "those who know," all the information he desires.]

EXCHANGES.

Two thousand square-cut post-marks, all different, in a neat book;
also 15oo duplicates, for best offer in stone implements.- Laurie II.
McNeill, Ch. 902, Mobile, Ala.
Correspondence with amateur egg-collectors desired. Iowa pre-
ferred.- Oscar Clute, Jr., Iowa City, Iowa.
American bird-skins and eggs (with data), for English. Also
mounted microscopical pathological specimens. Lists exchanged.
-Wm. D. Grier, 49 Gloucester St., Boston, Mass.

NEW CHAPTERS.

No. Name. No.o of Members. Address.
941 Hohokus, N. J. (A)...... 4.Mrs. R. Van Dien, Jr.
942 Sioux Falls, Dakota (B)...io..Percy Edmison.
943 Sancelito, Cal. (A)....... 7..A. J. Campbell,
Box 31, MIarin Co.
944 Buffalo, N. Y. (L)........ 2..Nathan N. Block,
82 Norris Place.
945 Baltimore, Md............ 4..Maurice Straus,
225 Linden Ave.
946 Seneca Falls (B) ......... 5.Wmn. Hopper.
947 San Francisco, Cal. (J).... 4.. Miss Alice J. Ellis,
27 So. Park.
948 Prairie Du Chien, Wis. (A) 7. Chas. Chase, Jr.
949 New York, N. Y. (Z)..... 4. Fred Stanton, 420 W. 6fst St.
DISSOLVED.

863 Providence, R. I. (E) .........Frederic Gorham.
362 Newport, R. I. (B) ...... 4,.Thomas Crosby, Jr.
242 Philadelphia (I) .............. J. F. Stevens.

REORGANIZED.
746 Helena. Montana (A)..... 8..Kurt Kleinschmidt, Box 292.
68 Grand Junction, Iowa..... 2..Miss Sarah I. Smith.
248 Richmond, Va. (A).......23. .W. T. Terry.
o09 E. Grace St.
Address all communications for this department to the President
of the A. A.,
MR. HARLAN H. BALLARD,
Principal of Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.







THE RIDDLE-BOX. 559





THE RIDDLE-BOX.

As THIS number of ST. NICHOLAS goes to press nearly a month earlier than usual, the names of solvers of March puzzles can
not appear until the issue of the June number.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER.


AN EASTER REBUS.
Bid folly fly and sin depart;
Keep inviolate your heart;
And Easter lilies, pure and fair,
Will bud and bloom forever there.
INVERTED PYRAMID. Across: I. Depopulated. 2. Nominated.
3. Deluded. 4. Roses. 5. Ten. 6. D.
ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS. I. B. 2. Dem(and).
3. Dolor. 4. Belgium. 5. Moist. 6. Rut. 7. M. II. M.
2. Ham. 3. Huron. 4. Marston. 5. Motor. 6. Nor. 7. N.
III I. M. 2. Tim. 3. Talon. 4. Million. 5. Moist. 6. Not.
7. N. IV. i. M. 2. Sam. 3. Sedan. 4. Madison. 5. Mason.
6. Non. 7. N. V. a. N. 2. Tam. 3. Titus. 4. Natural. 5.
Murat. 6. Sat. 7. L.
WORD-SQUARES. I. I. Racer. 2. Agave. 3. Canal. 4. Evade.
5. Relet. II. Cabal. 2. Above. 3. Bohea. 4. Avers. 5. Least.
III. i. Rabid. 2. Abide. 3. Bison. 4. Idols. 5. Dense.
PI. Spring, with that nameless pathos in the air
Which dwells with all things fair;
Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain,
Is with us once again.


OTHER GOOSE PUZZLE.


-, _- :_ -- -. ,




:


..; --_-- -- .




rri ;;i
-



.-.. .--) ,".,









THIS puzzle is based upon one of the Mother Goose rhymes. The
pictures represent the last word of the six lines of the verse. What
is the verse?
NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I AM composed of seventy-six letters, and am a quotation from
"Love's Labor Lost."
My 63-2T-58-3r is elevated. My 28-1-42-35 is headstrong. My
725-14-62-25 is on every breakfast table. My 2- i afashion-
able kind of trimming. My 74-0-55-5- is a glossy fabric. My
33-9-29- was the nationality of Othello. My 38-68-70-7- r-76 is
the name of the 67-3-49-61 of one of Shakspere's most celebrated


CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Arbor Day. Cross-words: I. slAin. 2.
stRew. 3. saBot. 4. slOop. 5. stRap. 6. seDan. 7. smArt.
8. slYly.
HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, April fool. Cross-words: i. TartArean.
2. reaPers. 3. scRew. 4. vie. 5L. 6. aFt. 7. foOls. 8.
limOsis. 9. inteLlect.
MYTHOLOGICAL NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I love to go in the capricious days
Of April, and hunt violets.
CONNECTED DOUBLE SQUARES. Upper left-hand square. Across:
I. Houp 2. Alto. 3. Ties. 4. Host. Upper right-hand square.
Across: i. Pent. 2. Otoe. 3. Suet. 4. Tile. Lower left-hand
square. Across: i. Host. 2. Able. 3. Sour. 4. Hem. Lower
right-hand square. Across: i. Tile. a. Eden. 3. Read. 4.
Naps.
BAGATELLE. I. More haste, less speed. 2. Medicines were not
meant to live on. 3. He who hides can find. 4. Pride goeth before
a fall. 5. The absent party is always faulty. 6. A crowd is not
company. 7. Penny wise, pound foolish. Key-words: haSte,
meAnt, hiDes, prIde, paRty, crOwd, peNny.
Central letters, sadiron.



plays. My6-43-5-26 is location. My 13-75-11-46 is mature. My
30-60-47-54-41 is what often follows a chill. My 53-36-4-24 is a
mixture. My 16-39-71-20-66 is used in bread-making. My 37-73-
65-7-23-27-69-I8-56-51 is an allurement. My 32-57-o0-5-64-44-
59-34-48 is a school. HAROLD J. HARDING.
PI.
TA emits a gaftarr zebree mecos toalfing yb,
Da.-. :..... uyo wkon ton hwy,
A ..:..:.:; i hewn agree words twaai
Freoeb a leapac tage
Meos dronswou gapeant; dan ouy scacer loudw tarts,
Fi form a cheeb's thear
A buel-yede Drady, pepsting froth, soldhu ays,
"Hedlob em! I ma Mya!"

CENTRAL ACROSTIC.
EACH of the words described contains the same number of letters;
the central letters, transposed, will spell the name of the heroine of
one of Sir Walter Scott's novels.
I. Was conspicuous. 2. A hard covering. 3. A citadel. 4. A
box for fruit. 5. To ward off. 6. A sudden fright. AVIs.

GREEK CROSS.


UPPER SQUARE: I. To begin. 2. A small drum. 3. Over.
4. Wanders. 5. A lock of hair.
LEFT-HAND SQUARE: I. A region. 2. A report. 3. Plentiful.
4. Plants of the cabbage family. 5. A lock of hair.
CENTRAL SQUARE: I. A lock of hair. 2. A black bird. 3. To
elude. 4. A plant which grows in wet grounds. 5. To scoff.
RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. TO scoff 2. Grand. 3. Declined.
4. A mournful poem. 5. To color anew.
LOWER SQUARE: I. To scoff. 2. Mother of pearl. 3. Applause.
4. One of the Muses. 5. To furnish with a new upper part
nOMlnE


1


7







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


A DECORATION-DAY PUZZLE.

THE words forming this numerical enigma are pictured instead of
described. The answer, consisting of a hundred and one letters, is
a four-line verse by Bayard Taylor.

TRIPLE ACROSTIC.





ACROSS: I. Pertaining to a monarch. 2. Entering without
right. 3. Unmarried women. 4. Unfaithful. Primals, a vapor;
centrals, a brown coating; finals, in a smaller degree. Primals,
centrals, and finals combined, unsuspicious. F. L. F.

INVERTED PYRAMID.

ACROSS: I. Measurement. 2. Consumes. 3. A chemical sub-
stance. 4. A sheltered place. 5. In pyramid. Downward: i.
In pyramid. 2. Two-thirds ofa girl's name. 3. Mankind. 4. Bad.
5. Celebrated. 6. Certain. 7. Wrath. 8. A bone. 9. In inverted.
F. L. F.
CONNECTED SQUARES.


.


I. UPPER SQUARE: i. Pertaining toa certain nymph. 2. A dis-
ease peculiar to children. 3. A dwelling-place. 4. The European
blackbird. 5. A charm.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: i. Burned wood. 2. A continued n-
deavor to gain possession. 3. The inner part. 4. The lesser white
heron. 5. A pugilistic encounter.
III. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: An expression of contempt 2. 2A


small column without base or capital. 3. Parts of shoes. 4. To
assign. 5. To squander.
IV. LOWER SQUARE: I. A term used in playing with balls. 2. A
sacred vestment. 3. Proper. 4. A fine yellow clay. 5. A
measure.
Centrals, reading downward (eleven letters), an architect who
builds houses. Centrals, reading across, a mechanical contrivance
common in cotton-mills. "L. LOS REGNI."

FINAL ACROSTIC.

EACH of the words described contains the same number of letters.
The primals will all be of the same letter; the finals will spell a name
famous in history.
I. Asmall shell-fish. 2. An emblem. 3. A common plant having
a scarlet blossom. 4. To weaken. 5. A specter. 6. An afternoon
nap. 7. A leap. 8. Unassuming. 9. A violent effort. o1. Irony.
ti. A channel. JUVENTUS."

WORD-SQUARES IN DIAMONDS.






I. Diamond: a. In soles. 2. To touch lightly. 3. Satisfies.
4. A beverage. 5. In soles. Included word-square: i. To touch
lightly. 2. Consumed. 3. A beverage.
II. Diamond: i. In strife. 2. To touch lightly. 3. Much talked
of in railway offices. 4. An inclosure. 5. In strife. Included
word-square: i. To touch lightly. 2. A verb. 3. An inclosure.
III. Diamond: i. In youthful. 2. The cry of a certain animal.
3. A mythical being. 4. Skill. 5. In youthful. Included word-
square: ;. The cry of a certain animal. 2. Gaseous substance.
3. Skill. "ARTHUR PENDENNIS."

HOUR-GLASS.

THE central letters, reading downward, spell the name of a very
prominent personage.
CROSS-WORDS: I. Pleasing to the taste. 2. A substance similar
to varnish. 3. An imp. 4. The name of a character in Uncle
Tom's Cabin." 5. In decorations. 6. Sick. 7. Resources. 8. To
call by the wrong name. 9. Gives too many doses to.
"D .VERSITY.
WORD- SQUARE.
THE letters of each of the words described may all be found in the
word NAMER.
i. A girl's name. 2. Close at hand. 3. A cognomen. 4. Surface.
"DENZIL ELINOR."


560