• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Discovered
 Little Menan light
 The dance of the daisies
 The value of an Egyptian girl's...
 The rain-harp
 Midsummer pirates
 A portrait
 The story of Laura Bridgman
 The story of the flower
 Captain Duck
 The little Persian princess
 A mutiny on a gold-ship
 The road-runner
 The shag back panther
 Sweet peas
 Among the Florida Keys
 Summer holiday thoughts
 The bunny stories
 Nell's fairy-tale
 From our scrap-book
 Flower ladies
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00216
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00216
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    Discovered
        Page 723
    Little Menan light
        Page 724
        Page 725
        Page 726
        Page 727
        Page 728
        Page 729
        Page 730
    The dance of the daisies
        Page 731
    The value of an Egyptian girl's gold necklace
        Page 732
        Page 733
        Page 734
        Page 735
    The rain-harp
        Page 736
    Midsummer pirates
        Page 737
        Page 738
        Page 739
        Page 740
        Page 741
        Page 742
        Page 743
        Page 744
    A portrait
        Page 745
    The story of Laura Bridgman
        Page 746
        Page 747
        Page 748
        Page 749
        Page 750
        Page 751
    The story of the flower
        Page 752
    Captain Duck
        Page 753
        Page 754
        Page 755
        Page 756
    The little Persian princess
        Page 757
        Page 758
        Page 759
        Page 760
        Page 761
    A mutiny on a gold-ship
        Page 762
        Page 763
        Page 764
        Page 765
    The road-runner
        Page 766
        Page 767
        Page 768
    The shag back panther
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
        Page 773
        Page 774
        Page 775
    Sweet peas
        Page 776
    Among the Florida Keys
        Page 777
        Page 778
        Page 779
        Page 780
        Page 781
        Page 782
        Page 783
        Page 784
        Page 785
    Summer holiday thoughts
        Page 786
    The bunny stories
        Page 787
        Page 788
        Page 789
        Page 790
    Nell's fairy-tale
        Page 791
    From our scrap-book
        Page 792
        Page 793
    Flower ladies
        Page 794
        Page 795
    The letter-box
        Page 796
        Page 797
        Page 798
    The riddle-box
        Page 799
        Page 800
        Unnumbered ( 83 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text


















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1


/ THE FIRST RIDE.
DRAWN BY MARY HALLOCK FOOTE.


II~~IY"-~"Vn~lIrrrgnu~rulcp...~~


















ST. NICHOLAS.




VOL. XVI. AUGUST, 1889. No. 1o.

Copyright, 1889, by THE CENTURY CO. All rights reserved.



DISCOVERED.

BY HELEN THAYER HUTCHESON.

ON the slope of a hill in the edge of a wood,
Bloomed and nodded a sisterhood
Of pale-tinted Blossoms that nobody knew,
Saving the Wind and the Sun and the Dew.

The Wind blew back the curtains of dawn,
And the Sun looked out when the Wind was gone,
And the flowers with the tears of the Dew were wet,
When the Wind was flown, and the Sun was set.

The Wind brought a wild Bee out of the west,
To dream for an hour on a Blossom's breast,
And the Sun left a Butterfly hovering there
With wide wings poised on the golden air.

And the Dew brought a Firefly to whirl and dance,
In his own bewildering radiance,
Round the slender green pillars that rocked as he flew,
And shook off the tremulous globes of the Dew;

The creatures of air gave the secret to me.
I followed the hum of the' heavy-winged Bee,
I followed the Butterfly's wavering flight,
I followed the Firefly's bewildering light.

I found the pale Blossoms, that nobody knew;
They trusted the Sun, and the Wind, and the Dew;
The Dew and the Wind trusted Firefly and Bee.
I give you the secret they gave unto me.
723
















rTT- i
.1 _= -:-'._? -- -


I I
~ BCW~a


By GEORGE WHARTON EDWARDS.


T is a weird and desolate
"I spot, is Little Menan,
/ ", -even on the clearest
/ days, when the square,
N whitened light-house
tower gleamsbrightly
in the sunshine, re-
S- minding one of a
gravestone marking
the resting-place of
so many who have gone down to the sea in
ships." But bright, clear days at Little Menan
are rare; the color of the sky is generally a leaden
gray, and the whole place seems to be in mourn-
ing for the countless wrecks that have happened
in the neighborhood.
Little Menan is a high rock rising from the sea
to an altitude of two hundred feet, and is nine
miles from the mainland. If you look on the map
of Maine you may by chance find it, somewhere
between Portland and Grand Menan. Toward the
land it slopes gently to the water's edge, where
there is a sort of natural harbor protected by a
reef, and capable of holding a half-dozen sailing
vessels comfortably during a storm. But all around
are the ragged points of the innumerable reefs,
sticking up like cruel teeth, over which the water
seethes and bubbles and tosses, even in the calm-
est weather.


Seaward the rock is steep, rearing its full height
suddenly and boldly from the sea, and the chart
. gives fifteen fathoms, clear, at its very foot. How
the tide roars as it comes in How it dashes
against the face of the rock How mightily it
piles itself in flashes of white and green flame upon
* the ragged rocks! The white foam fairly dazzles
one's eyes in the somber gray of the scene, and
the mist twists and writhes curiously, as it is blown
upward toward the tower.
A desolate place, indeed, and Dan Humphrey
thought so as he trimmed the lamps in the tower
overhanging the wet and glistening rocks. He
was somewhat bent and gray, and he had grown
so at Little Menan Light, for gray hairs come fast
when one has nothing to do but to watch sea and
sky. He had come to the light, a young man with
his wife, who loved him well enough to be willing
to give up the society of the little town in which
she was born, and, save for him, to live in solitude
out in the sea. The monotony was broken twice
a year by the arrival of the light-house steamer,
bringing the government inspector, and supplies
of coal, provisions, and oil for the lamps.
So the time dragged itself along peacefully and
happily enough for these two people, until there
came into Dan Humphrey's life a day when hope
and happiness died within him,-his cheery-faced,
sweet-voiced little wife passed away with the set-






LITTLE ME

ting of the sun, leaving with him a tiny stranger,
whose wail grated upon his ears.
Upon the death of his wife he fled to the tower;
he did not look at the helpless atom in the nurse's
arms; he could not bear the sight.
Dan Humphrey became a changed man. Nat-
urally silent, he grew taciturn and ill-humored.
He never took the child in his arms, never kissed
it, nor manifested any interest in it whatever.
He would sit up in the lantern for hours at a
time, looking seaward, his hands beneath his
square chin, his elbows resting upon his knees.
Before his wife had been in heaven a year, every
hair upon his head was white, and, while yet under
forty, he seemed and acted like an old man. Still
there was a certain hard, unbroken strength about
him, and in spite of his appearance of age, he was
not thought unequal to the duties of the light.
He was grimly faithful to his trust; no vessel ever
looked in vain for Little Menan Light. At sun-
down its beam shone in the sky like a white star;
and at sunrise the curtains were drawn for the
day. Beyond his duties he had no association
with living interests. He never talked more than
he could help with his old sister, who had come to
attend to the wants of himself and the child; but
when he was alone in the tower, polishing the
lenses and putting the lamps in order, she often
heard his voice and the sound of his wife's name.
In this atmosphere, and with these hardly cheer-
ful surroundings, in the sole company of hard-
featured, rough-voiced old Martha Ann, the little
girl grew up. Left to herself most of the time, she
haunted the rocks, knew of all sorts of wonderful
caves in the cliff, and learned to swim like a little
seal, in the warm shallow pools left by the tide
high in the rock. Later on, old Martha Ann
taught her to make biscuit, and fry fish, and mend
and darn. Somehow she learned her letters, and
could print them; and as for singing, why, her
sweet, shrill little voice might have been heard a
long distance from the rocks, as she sat 'going
over and over again the camp-meeting songs she
had learned from old Martha Ann.
At length, one morning at breakfast, her father
looked up, and in his rough voice, yet with a cer-
tain kindness in his tone, said:
I 'm thinking Marthy Ann, that as Altie 's"
(she had been named "Alta," for her mother)
" close onto twelve year old, ye might be spared
ter go off home to Friendshiptown. Folks '11 be
glad ter see ye ag'in, and their' ain't nothing' here
thet Altie can't do just 's well es not. 'T ain't the
liveliest place yere, an' ye won't mind goin'. Gov-
er'ment boat '11 be yere ter-morrer, I cal'late, bein'
es she 's due, and ye can be car'd over on her."
Now, while Martha Ann wished to go home to


NAN LIGHT. 725

Friendshiptown, she had certain qualms about leav-
ing little Alta alone. But Dan Humphrey would
hear of no opposition. So brave Altie took up her
burden, and tended her father by night and day;
but all her little deeds of kindness and acts of love
brought forth from the father no word of love nor
appreciation; he never seemed to notice nor to care
for her. Often she cried herself to sleep with a
yearning that she could not have explained to her-
self had she tried (and of course she did n't), for she
did not know that it was a mother's love she craved.
The only mother she had ever known was old
Martha Ann. And now that she was gone from
Little Menan, it was lonely indeed.
The few strangers who visited the light from the
yachts which, during a "blow," occasionally toolc
advantage of the shelter afforded by the excellent
little harbor, were touched to see this quiet, womanly
little girl attending to the duties of the household,
grave and unsmiling, without any of the childish
ways they were accustomed to see in children of
her age.
None the less, she had many boyish traits; she
could set a trawl, and underrun it, as well as any
fisherman. Her muscles became hardened, and
her limbs sturdy and well rounded. To see her
standing in the bow of her little green dory, in
a yellow oil-jacket, and with tarpaulin hat tied
tightly under her round little chin, one would have
thought she really was a boy. She knew all the
weather signs, and had made friends with the huge
gray "shag" (a kind of gull) that had sat on
the inner ledge ever since she could remember.
She would row up to him quietly, as he sat watch-
ing her intently with his beady eyes, and, when
quite close, she would take some choice morsel of
fish of which he was particularly fond, and throw
it high in the air. As it fell, Old Pat," as she
had named him, would heavily flap his wings for a
few moments, and then, rising slowly, with his
yellow legs dangling so comically that she would
laugh aloud, he would dive and secure the prize,
clucking discordantly the while. When he had
once more settled upon the rock, she would sit in
the dory, and talk to him, while he snapped his
bill with enjoyment. Who shall say what were
the confidences that passed between them, or that
they did not understand one another?
Poor little thing!--she was very lonely after
old Martha's departure from Little Menan; but it
never occurred to her to complain. She attended
her father in her grave unchildish way, and
greedily picked up whatever crumbs of comfort
she could find in their intercourse.
One day she was sitting at the table, with her
elbows upon it and her hands under her chin, as
she had so often seen her father sit, looking out






LITTLE MENAN LIGHT.


of the deep-set square window. Old Dan, who
had been ailing for some days, was in the large
chair beside the stove. It was growing cold, it was
in September, and this month on the Maine coast
is often cold and foggy. Her father complained
of a curious numbness in his side.
Altie had attended to the lamps and filled the
tank with oil. She had also wound up the heavy
weight that turned the lamps at night. It was a
hard task for the little one, and her arms ached.
She was waiting for sundown, to light the burners.
How 's the wind, Altie ? asked her father.
Altie glanced at him, for his voice sounded thick


was passing, its sails double-reefed and shining
golden in the rays of the setting sun. Goin' to
be a blow," she said softly, as she uncovered and
unscrewed the chimneys and taking up the torch
applied it to the wicks, one by one. Now the lamps
were all lighted, and pulling the little lever, as she
had seen her father do, the lamps began to re-
volve, and the long rays of light to shoot out over
the wild expanse of waters.
Looking through the lens, seaward, she pres-
ently saw low down near the horizon the faint
gleam of another light. She smiled to herself
as she said:


" SHE WAS SITTING AT THE TABLE LOOKING OUT OF THE DEEP-SET SQUARE WINDOW."


and unnatural. Then, looking out of the window
to where the dory, moored far below, was nodding
and tossing on the black and wrinkled water, she
answered, "Bow to the nor'ard,-wind no'east."
The father moved uneasily. Go up and light
her," he said.
Altie took down the torch from its hook on the
wall, lighted it, and opened the door at the side
of the room where were the stone steps leading to
. the tower above. She ran up lightly many and
many a time had her little feet taken the same
journey !-and soon she was in the lantern. Put-
ting the torch carefully on the iron shelf, she drew
back the yellow curtains that shut the light away
from the lenses; for if, by chance, the sun were to
shine through them, its rays would burn every-
thing they fell upon. How they magnified the
wild scene beneath Her little green dory dan-
cing far below in the harbor seemed almost near
enough to touch. How the water boiled and
dashed upon the ledge! A huge three-master


Got ahead of Seguin to-night, again."
Putting out the torch,. and giving one last
glance about, to see that everything was right,
she descended the stairs and entered the room
where her father sat. "All right, Father," she
said. Taking up a basket, which she placed on
the table, she seated herself, and selecting a stock-
ing began to mend a gaping hole in the heel,
singing softly a hymn that she had learned from
Martha Ann:

Gathered as the sands on the sea-shore;
Numberless as the sands on the shore.
Oh, what a sight 't will be -
When the ransomed hosts we see -
As numberless as the sands on the sea-shore."

"Altie !" called out her father in a strangely
altered voice, "Altie- child,- I 'm numb I
can't move water! I 'm burning "
The child ran to him. He was leaning over
the side of the chair. Putting her sturdy little


726






LITTLE MENAN LIGHT.


arms about him, she lifted him back against the
cushion. As she looked in his face, she gave a
cry of fear. It was all drawn to one side.
Oh, Father," she cried, "what is it-what is
,it?"
The man tried to speak, but only a babbling
came from his lips; he waved his left hand up
and down. Little Altie ran, got water, gave him
to drink, bathed his head, chafed his hands,
called out to him to speak to her! She loved him
dearly, this cold, silent man. All his silence
toward her was forgotten, and, indeed, had
hardly ever been noticed by her. There was im-
planted in her little heart an affection for him that
no coldness could kill, that no neglect could
extinguish. It -was her legacy from the dead
mother.
Then her little heart sank within her, as she saw
that he did not revive, but continued to wave his
left hand-the right hung helpless--and mumble
and cry out. A terrible fear came over her.
What .could she do? She bathed his hot fore-
head and burning bosom, but it was of no avail.
He was burning with a fever she could not cool.
Of illness she had had no experience whatever.
There was a medicine-chest under the window, in
the locker, but she had never opened it. The
key hung on her father's key-ring she knew, but
the remedies were of no use to her, for she did not
know which to use.
All that long night she bathed her father's hot
head and hands.
The Portland steamer passed at half-past nine.
She heard the chug, chug, chug, of the paddles,
and ran out with a lighted lantern, and waved it,
in hope that they might see it and send a boat to
know what was the trouble; but the steamer kept
steadily upon its course, and soon the lights of its
saloon windows were lost in the night.
Morning dawned at last, a wild and stormy one.
How the wind blew !
Her father seemed to be asleep. All the night,
while bathing her father's head, she had been
busy with plans of what she would do. Her own
little head ached with the thinking. All her plans
resolved themselves into one conclusion: she must
get help from the mainland, nine miles away.
But then how could she leave her father alone
until she returned? and she might not be back
in time to light the lamps in the tower She tried
again and again to rouse her father, to make him
understand.
"Father!" she said. Father! I must go
over to Friendshiptown for the doctor. Do you
understand? I must leave you alone, while I go
for help "
For an instant the man started forward with a


gleam of intelligence in his glazed eyes; then he
dropped back into his old listless attitude, and
aimlessly waved his left hand. He tried to speak,
and she bent her ear down to his lips, but only an
unintelligible mumble came from them.
"What shall I do?" she cried, wringing her
hands.
Outside, the wind was piling up the surf upon
the jagged rocks; great numbers of gulls soared
about the island and screamed discordantly. The
sky was a pale green, and the water between
Little Menan and the shore was black-blue, and
its wrinkled surface was wind-swept in long, curious
lines from the north-east. The mainland stood
out bold and clear, and the white houses of Friend-
shiptown seemed hardly more than two miles
away, and gleamed against the dark green of the
hills.
Altie placed a pitcher of water and some cold
boiled fish where her father could reach them, and,
carefully banking the fire in the stove with fresh
coal, she donned her yellow oil-jacket, and tied
the strings of her tarpaulin hat under her chin.
Then, slipping on a pair of high rubber boots, she
kissed her unconscious father, closed the door of
Little Menan light-house, and in five minutes was
off to where her little green dory rocked and
swayed in the angry water of the harbor.
It was hard work to step the mast and hoist the
little sail, in the strong wind, but Altie had been
out in bad weather before, and knew how to han-
dle her dory; and soon she was seated in the stern,
oar in one hand to steer, and sheet in the other,
skimming away toward the mainland.
Friendshiptown lies well down behind the finger
of land that juts out before it. Its harbor was full
of mackerel-seiners, mainsails up and all heading
the same way, for there was a "' weather-breeder "
in the sky, and Friendshiptown had gathered itself
for the coming storm.
Friendshiptown, to a man, had sought shelter
under the sheds that-lined the wharves, where it
could see the harbor and the vessels, and whatever
of interest might come to pass. There, leaning
its back against the anchors, old capstans, sails, or
mackerel-barrels, it looked over toward the gleam
of the square, white light-house tower, on Little
Menan, and said more or less shrewdly: "Well!
I cal'late we're goin' ter hev a spell o' weather!"
And in the house, the woman, whose father,
husband, or brother was with the fleet on the
Banks, murmured a prayer, and said aloud, "I
wish't Tom,"-or Sam, or Ben,- "was ashore "

A boy with a high forehead, round greeny-blue
eyes, and tow hair combed behind his large, flar-
ing red ears, who was attired in a large tarpaulin


727






LITTLE MENAN LIGHT.


hat and a pair of historic trousers, sat on a bar- Sure enough! In the driving sea, against the
rel-head among the fishermen under the shed band of orange light .in the sky; could be dimly
on the wharf, industriously whittling away at the seen a small, dark object, now rising on the top


TO SEE HER IN A YELLOW OIL-JACKET AND WITH TARPAULIN HAT, ONE WOULD HAVE
THOUGHT SHE REALLY WAS A BOY."
heel of one of his huge cow-hide boots. Suddenly of a huge blue-black wave, only to hang there
he straightened himself, stood up, shut his knife, for an instant and then to disappear in the trough
and, pointing toward the mouth of the harbor, of the next sea.
ejaculated: "Thar, b' cracky! spoke up one of the men,
Jing! ef there ain't a dory a-comin' round he 's gone this time sure 's a gun Thet 'ar
the p'int! wave es riz last, swamped 'im; 't ain't no boat,


[AUG.






LITTLE MENAN LIGHT.


less 'n one made o' cork, es kin live in any sea
like this 'n' !"
A moment's suspense followed; then the watch-
ers saw the tiny boat-lifted on the crest of a huge
wave and borne forward. There was a sigh of
relief from the men, and -the red-eared boy threw
up his tarpaulin with a yell:
"Whoever's a-sailin' o' thet dory knows what
'e 's a-doin'! "
Thar, Cass," said the man who spoke first,-
he seemed to be the patriarch,-" jest ye run up
ter the woman" (that is, wife) "and git my glass.
I '11 jest spy out ter oncet who 't is a-navigatin' o'
thet their' dory. I don't re-cog-nize the boat. It
ain't f'm Bremen," he added aggressively, look-
ing about him at the others. No one taking up the
cudgel thus cast down, the patriarch again fixed
his eye upon the strange boat.
The moments passed painfully; the wind had
shifted suddenly to the westward, and the dory
was compelled to beat. It rose and fell regularly
upon the black tumultuous waves; and, as a huge
mound of water grew behind it, the watchers in
their excitement rose to their feet. As the billow
reached the dory, the crest broke in a long line of
white and pale green, completely hiding the little
craft. Swamped! called out the patriarch,
drawing the back of his horny hand across his lips.
But, no!-a moment later the tiny boat ap-
peared, struggling up the side of a huge wave.
"Mast's down! mast's down!" passed from
lip to lip; and it was seen that the occupant of
the boat had the oars out and was keeping the
boat before the wind.
It 's the dory f'm Little Menan Light! I kin
spy the letters on 'er bow," came down to them
from the rocks above the wharf, where stood the
red-eared boy, with the glass glued to his watery
blue eyes.
By this time most of Friendshiptown was gath-
ered on the wharves, for the news had spread
through the little town that a dory was struggling
in the storm off the point. Out in the harbor, on
the seiners, men were running to and fro, and soon
half a dozen dories were launched from the decks,
where they lay in nests, fitted together like baskets,
and the fishermen could be seen jumping into
them by twos and threes.
The little green dory was by this time abreast
of the Barrel," a huge and dangerous rock that
lifted itself above the water just inside of the point.
Sturdy arms pulled the oars of the huge dories,
and shortly they were alongside. The fishermen
could be seen standing up in the boats; then they
all came together and hid the little dory from
sight. .As -the people on the wharves leaned
breathlessly forward, a ringing cheer came faintly


to them upon the whistling wind; and then, as
the boats-parted, the little green-dory was seen in
tow of the foremost boat, and empty.
I see 'im a-settin in the starn," said one, as
the glass was passed from hand to hand. "It's
Dan Humphrey," said another, "'cause it's shore
enough Dan's boat. And other' ain't no one ter
be in 'er but 'im,-stands ter reason "I kain't
see no baird," said the first speaker, 'n' Dan 's
got a baird He meant a beard.
Here the pop-eyed youth took possession of the
glass. Hey he yelled, presently, ef it ain't
Altie Humphrey! I tell. ye I know that green
tarpaulin hat. Ain't I seen her enough times off
Owl Head a-underrunning on 'er trawl, with it onto
her head? "
In a paroxysm of triumph over his discovery he
began dancing about and yelling out, "It's Altie
Humphrey! at the top of his lungs, when he
caught a backhander from the patriarch of the
wharf, who hoarsely growled out, Stow that,
consarn yer! Kain't yer see Marthy Ann's ahind
of yer?"
As the foremost boat reached the wharf, with its
crew of fishermen and the little figure in the stern,
one of the schooners out in the harbor was seen to
hoist its jib and foresail and stand away in the
direction of Little Menan. Tenderly the little
figure in the queer, green tarpaulin hat, oil-coat,
and heavy boots was passed up to willing, anxious
hands on the wharf, surrounded by the women,
and at length carried by the patriarch up the hill,
the yellow, curly hair falling over his shoulder
from under the hat, the limp, wet brown hand
lying heavily on his neck,-for little Altie had
fainted.

There is not much more to tell. It was a long
time before Altie was able to be about again. With
her short, cropped hair,- for, during the fever which
followed her rescue, she had it all cut short,- she
looked more than ever like a boy. But as all this
happened some years ago, it has had time to grow
again. I hear that she is living with the patri-
arch, who has adopted her. Dan Humphrey is
-living with them, but is paralyzed; he can say
only a few words, although he seems to understand
what is said to him. And, singularly enough,
these words are the echo of what he said to little
Altie in the tower on Little Menan during that
dreadful storm,- Light 'er up, Altie."
The government gives him a pension, in con-
sideration of his faithful service; and this, with the
money he saved from his salary, is sufficient to
keep them comfortably.
His chair is so placed that by day he can see the
square tower of the light-house gleaming against


729








the sky; and by night he watches its revolving instant been taken from him. He has a set of flags
ray as it sweeps the horizon. It is touching to see which he raises on a pole against the side of the
the care Altie lavishes upon him in his uncon- house, as the vessels enter the harbor, and is quite


"AND SO THE TIME PASSES."
scious, crippled condition. He does not heed it happy in the belief that he holds an important gov-
now, any more than he did in his tower on Little ernment position; indeed, this is his only interest.
Menan. Yet that tenderness has. never for one And so the time passes.


739


LITTLE MENA~N -LIGHT.











THE DANCE OF THE DAISIES.


BY SARAH M. B. PIATT.


So, my pretty flower-folk,
you
Are in a mighty flutter;
All your nurse, the wind,
can do,
Is to scold and mutter.

We intend to have a ball
(That 's why we are fret-
ting),
And our neighbor-flowers have
all
Fallen to regretting.

Many a butterfly we send
SFar across the clover.
(There '11 be wings enough to
mend
When the trouble 's over.)

" Many a butterfly comes.home
Torn with thorns and blighted,
Just to say they can not come,-
They whom we 've invited.

" Yes, the roses and the rest
Of the high-born beauties
Are 'engaged,' of course, and pressed
With their stately duties.


" They 're at garden-parties seen;
They 're at court presented:
They look prettier than the Queen !
(Strange that 's not resented.)

" 'Peasant-flowers' they call us-we
Whose high lineage you know -
SWe, the ox-eyed children (see!)
Of Olympian Juno."

(Here the daisies all made eyes
And they looked most splendid,
As they thought about the skies,
Whence they were descended.)

"In our saintly island (hush !)
Never crawls a viper,
Ho, there, Brown-coat! that's the thrush:
He will be the piper.

"In this Irish island, oh,
We. will stand together.
Let the loyal roses go;-
We don't care a feather.

Strike up, thrush, and play as though
All the stars were dancing.
So they are! And-here we go-
Is n't this entrancing? "


Swaying, mist-white, to and fro,
Airily they chatter,
For a daisy-dance, you know,
Is a pleasant matter.




ESCAPING A SHOWER.

BY MALCOLM DOUGLAS.


Two crabs who were out on the beach to walk Then if we stay," said the other, "it's plain
Shook claws when they met and stopped to talk. That both of us will be caught in the rain."


" We 're going to have a storm," one said.
" Just look at those big clouds overhead "


So, ere the threatened shower began,
Back in the water they quickly ran.












.THE VALUE OF AN EGYPTTAN GIRL'S GOLD
NECKLACE.

BY CHARLES S. RoeiNSON.


IT seems to be customary now for tourists .\ho
visit Egypt, to get possession of a mummy, if pos-
sible, or a piece of one, or some sort of relic of
one, in order to secure recognition as first-class
orientalists. Just so, in Crusading time, pilgrims
brought home branches from the Holy Land, and
were delighted at being called "palmers" there-
after. But things are not always what they seem.
A museum in the back parlor lacks the enthusiasm
which is indispensable to the proper endurance of
certain classes of oriental curios. There are many
remains of ancient civilization that shine, and
others that make one shudder; and travelers are
not as discriminating in their purchases as they
might be. It has mournfully to be admitted of
Egyptian souvenirs that when they are good they
are very good, and when they are bad they are
horrid.
Two objects have come to the knowledge of the
writer of this article which are more than worth
having; they are worth more than the wealth of
a thousand worlds like ours, provided one regards.
them as an investment of money, and makes his
calculations at compound interest.
Of the one of them which met my eye first I
do not care to speak very much at length; but it
should be indicated and described. It has no in-
scription nor legend to help in its identification;
but the wisest authorities declare that it belongs to
the Ptolemaic age, or at all events to the Greek-
Roman period which succeeded it. That gives a
generous margin of about six hundred years just
before and just after the birth of our Lord Jesus
Christ, within the limits of whichh its history must
be reckoned. It is a silver bracelet, about two
,.and a half inches in diameter, solid and stiff, and
put on like a modern bangle by an awkward
stretching of its spiral to get one's hand through.
It is unjoined, of course, at the ends, each of which
is flattened out in a wide surface so as to be en-
graved with the figure of a stately deity in the
fori of a human bust crowned with emblems of
supremacy. We may reckon this as nearly nineteen
hundred years old, and so standing as a coeval rep-
resentative of the whole Christian era. It is worth
looking at for its own sake, even though we know
nothing of its ancient owner. While the graver


was cutting the lines upon it, it may possibly have
been he could have heard the suain or the rirst
Christmas carol by the angels, if only he had been
in Palestine rather than in Egypt, and had chanced
to be out on Bethlehem hills one night four years
before "A. D." began.
SThe other object is of more interest st.ll to all
of us. It is a chain of exquisite gold, a rich orange
yellow in color, with links dexterously twined
one upon another. It is about thirteen inches
long, three-eighths of an inch wide, and as nearly
a tenth of an inch thick as I can measure it with
a rule. The ends of it were at first fitted only
with small solid rings set into clamps beautifully
ornamented with leaf-work. Perhaps it was fast-
ened to the wearer's neck by a filament or cord
of silk tied through. The present owner has
arranged a modern clasp in the shape of the lotus-
-flower. It can still be used, and indeed as well
as ever, as an ornament for one in full dress. It is
so flexible, falling doi n into picturesque folds the
moment it is let go, that it seems more like a rib-
bon of delicate tissue than like mere metal. An
expert goldsmith told me, after he had examined
it with his glass, that it undoubtedly had a perfect-
ness of uniformity in the links which could be
found only in a chain manufactured by machinery.
This was to me a matter of wonder, for I was
not prepared to learn that the ancient Egyptians
had the knowledge of machines which could pro-
duce woven fabrics from pure gold. It was at once
a discovery and a delight. It must be confessed
that when I have spoken of this necklace as be-
longing to a princess I have had no actual authority.
It dates from the age of Moses, if Herr Emile
Brugsch is correct in his supposition (see letter,
page 734) as to its belonging to the nineteenth
dynasty,-a learned period, it is a fact, but how
much acquaintance the nation had then with deli-
cate machinery it is not easy to say. This orna-
ment was found in one of that range of tombs
opened along the Nile, where royal and priestly
burials were frequent. It may have been worn by
a daughter of a king, but not yet is any one able to
give her name, her lineage, or her history.
These two acquisitions made in Cairo, two or
three years ago, have been of themselves a peculiar






THE VALUE OF AN EGYPTIAN GIRL'S GOLD NECKLACE.


help to me. They are accompanied by one of
those letters giving careful and skillful authenti-
cation from Emile Brugsch, which he, as the di-
rector of the museum, is accustomed to bestow
upon strangers who purchase; he never goes be-
yond what he can candidly aver, and so his testi-
monials are always of interest arid real value.
It so happened that I was delivering a course
of lectures on Egyptian history, as illustrated by
the discoveries of some
mummies now on exhibi-
tion in the museum at
Bflak, near Cairo; and
I wished to make a vivid
impression, especially
upon the. minds of the
younger people among
my hearers,- which
would convey to them
the meaning of such a
period of time as three
thousand or four thou-
sand years. I told them,
in a familiar way, just
before I began my lect-
ure, how interesting this
necklace had proved to
me; and I promised to
borrow it again and bring
it for the next week's
lecture. But I asked the
boys and girls to make a
calculation to show what
a great, great while three
thousand years of time
must be.
Years ago, when arith-
metics less accurate than
those now in use were
put in the hands of schol-
ars, it used to be given
as a rule that money, at
compound interest at .
six per cent. a year,
would double itself once
in every eleven years or
a little more; now the THE SILVER BRACELET.
rules say it requires
twelve. To render the big problem a possibility
for even the youngest mathematicians, we settled
on thirty-six hundred years ago, as the time when
the Egyptian girl wore her beautiful chain.
Then the question was this: How much would
the money which bought the gold chain, if it hai
been American money, thus put at compound in-
terest for thirty-six hundred years at six per cent.,
amount to to-day if the original price had been


equal to twenty dollars? Then I gave the hint,
so as to help a little in the outset with the smaller
boys, that it could be answered by solid work in
multiplying, of course; but that this would be very
long and wearisome. It could also be answered
according to the common rules of geometrical pro-
gression. And it could be answered, more easily
yet, by the same rule expressed in a formula, made
up of algebraic signs and letters. But the best way


THE GOLD NECKLACE,

to reach the end quickly, would be to bear in mind
that twelve would go into thirty-six hundred just
three hundred times; so this sum of twenty dollars
would have to be considered as doubling itself
three hundred times. That is, the problem would
be made perfectly clear, if only we could ascertain
what would be the three hundredth power of two,
and then multiply that vast sum by the twenty
dollars which the necklace cost in the beginning.


733






734 THE VALUE OF AN EGYPTL
The matter excited much enthusiasm in the
public schools; but almost all found the enor-
mous figures needed for the calculation too
much for their patience. There was one plucky


sanvmst
COnSERVAin N IIO ANTlOUIltS

DIRECTION GcNiRLE
I DC e
faW6'BB e


Bovuou~.4te{45Le seat


ae---a- l,---































boy who toiled through with a wonderful cour-
sent me a letter saying, that he had done his
should be stated, however, that at first I had given













out the number of thirty-three, instead of thirty-six,
e ye f I h i m e e
*'/ 9 fC, "/-/ ~I^ ^ y


ge Sve days&afer that lture1/ was overa-.he





bs a. b ev 7hadthect7







b h ytoil, ftro wIt ain ondteorul c





age. Seven days after that lecture was over, he
sent me a letter saying that he had done his
best and believed he had the correct result. It
should be stated, however, that at first I had given
out the number of thirty-three, instead of thirty-six,
hundred years, for I had in mind the old rule


A


.N GIRLS GOLD NECKLACE. [AUG.

which gave eleven years as the period in which a
sum would double itself, instead of twelve. Hence
my brave boy's answer was this: $65,476,163,
865,ioo,- and then add sixty-nine more ciphers !
He said that he had dropped the decimal places in
the last two or three multiplications, and this
would change in some small measure the grand
result. For, indeed, it was grand.
It is not necessary for me to pronounce whether
this answer is a true one: I have never been care-
fully over the figures. Life is short, and I can
prolong my usefulness, I am persuaded, by pru-
dently avoiding such mathematical problems as
this lad undertook to solve by a reckless exertion
of main strength in simple multiplication. So I
beg leave to admit that his answer satisfies all
needs of investment which I expect ever to con-
template with necklaces or anything else. But if
I ever need a patient, faithful, hard-working boy,
to trust, I think possibly I know where to find him,
and I shall remember his name.
Then maturer mathematicians took up the prob-
lem. Earliest among them was a schoolma'am."
I saw her afterwards, with her fair hair in plain
parting upon her broad forehead; and now I have
one more good friend. She was unfortunate in
catching the exact sums mentioned upon the plat-
form, and so took three thousand two hundred,
instead of three hundred. But (as she wrote) it
made but little difference." The ingenuity was
perfectly legitimate inher process of calculation, and
so she saved an enormous amount of work by rais-
ing o06, that is, $1.06, to the fortieth power, and
multiplying that by itself; thus she reached the
eightieth power, and by multiplying that by the
twentieth power she gained the hundredth. After
that, she multiplied the hundredth by the hun-
dredth, and so got the two hundredth. Then the
advances pushed on rapidly; the two hundredth
power was multiplied by the two hundredth in turn,
and the resulting four hundredth, by the four hun-
dredth, and then the eight hundredth by the eight
hundredth, gave the sixteen hundredth, which,
multiplied by itself, brought the thirty-second hun-
dredth power.
A single multiplication more did the work; and
I think it was an industrious achievement of climb-
ing mathematical stairs, that might become as
famous as Xenophon's retreat of the ten thousand,
or Sherman's march through Georgia to the sea,
if only it had the proper poet to sing its praises.
The result was this: $6,462,434,595,555,262,158,
761, 846,458,349, 521,917, 919,009, 818, 238, 064,
go6, 501, 568, 467, 523,393, 211,837, 120, 242,444,
906,380.08. It may be said that one of the high-
est authorities in the land has pronounced this
enormous result to be practically correct.


'






THE VALUE OF AN EGYPTIAN GIRL'S GOLD NECKLACE.


By this time, the popular enthusiasm was kindled
to a blaze. People tried to numerate these ninety
-figures, so as to tell each other how much the
twenty dollars invested in a necklace would be
worth if invested for thirty-three hundred years at
compound interest; and nobody could read out the
sum. Experts took up the problem; one was a
soldier trained in the use of logarithms and such
things as they work with up at West Point. The
problem was rather simple, when one had tables
and knew how to treat them. This "lightning-
calculator" wrote a calm letter which showed that
he knew what he was talking about. He said that
the only way of solving the problem with absolute
correctness, was to compute the interest by ordi-
nary methods thirty-three hundred times, carrying
all the decimals, however many, as they could not
safely be disregarded in an operation so extensive
and of such magnitude. He added that the
approximate solution might be obtained with ease
by means of logarithms; but, it would have to be
confessed that logarithms were only approxima-
tions to the truth. Then he defined his position
by remarking that in ordinary logarithmic opera-
tions six decimal places are used. In others, where
a larger number would be involved, or a greater
accuracy desired, twelve decimals are employed;
and in extensive problems in surveying or star-
measuring, a much larger increase would have to
be used. He pronounced this particular problem
one which transcended inconceivably any of the
historic calculations thus far attempted, and in-
sisted that any accurate working of it by means
of logarithms must be far from the absolute truth,
and that only the first few figures could really be
vouched for.
STaking twelve places of decimals, therefore, he
offered his solution, which he hoped would prove
as correct as could be obtained with customary
means. So he resolved his question into a geo-
metrical progression in which n, the number of
terms, is 3,301; a, as the first term, would be 20;
r, the constant ratio, would be I.o6; and 1, the
last term, must be the answer required.
The formula for working would be given in
words thus: the last term equals the first term
multiplied by the ratio raised to the power indi-
cated by the number of terms less one. Then he
works out the problem.
The logarithm of r is .025305865265. Multi-
plying this by 3,300, or n-i, we have 83.5093553-
74500. Multiply by 20, or add the logarithm of
a, that is, 20; so we get 84.810385370164, the
logarithm of 1.
This last is the logarithm of the required answer,
and indicates that the result contains 85 integral
figures. The number that answers to this in the


tables is: $6,462,274,246,268,656,716,417,910,447,
761,-044, 776, 104,477, 610,447, 761, 044, 776, 104,
477,810,447,761,044,776,104,477.61. This would
be the value of the gold.
Alluding to the proposition itself, he remarks
that the old calculation was faulty, in that, as a
matter of fact, a sum of money would not double
itself in eleven years at compound interest at six
per cent. It would require nearer twelve than
eleven: the amount of $20 for eleven years would
be only $37.97; but for twelve years would be
$40.25. A difference would be made between the
two results if the problem should be worked out
on the other basis; indeed, the result would be
nearly a hundred and sixty thousand times too
great. But he observes with a calm quaintness
peculiarly mathematical, That would not matter
much."
For now we reach the great mystery and won-
derment of this calculation: the result of it is
simply bewildering. I am willing to admit that it
has seemed to me so incomprehensible that I have
sent the general problem around to some of the
best men in the country. My friend whose ex-
planation gave so much help proposed a curious
illustration of the result he had reached. To show
how inconceivably enormous is this sum of money,
let it be assumed that ten silver dollars, piled upon
one another, are one inch in height. Six hun-
dred and thirty-three thousand six hundred dollars
thus placed would extend a mile. Assume the
whole distance from the earth to the sun to be
95,000,000 miles. The number of silver coins
thus piled, necessary to bridge the firmament, be-
tween sun and earth, would be Co, 192,oo0,000,000.
Suppose the number of dollars shown in the an-
swer we got to the problem, should be put into
columns, going up to the sun and back. The num-
ber of those columns nobody could read aloud;
we do not know how to numerate such strings of
integers. The number of times the dollars would
go to the sun would claim seventy-one places of
figures to state them. A rough calculation which
anybody can make will show that this amount of
silver, cast into a solid mass, would be bigger than
the sun and entire solar system, if combined.
What mind can conceive this?
Since I began to use this chain as an illustration,
I have heard from another eminent teacher whose
position on the staff of the Albany Academy is
proof of his scholarship. I raised the conditions
of the problem, lately, and am now accustomed
to mention the time as 3600 years; and it is bet-
ter to say twelve years than eleven for the period
of doubling at compound interest; all this is to
make round numbers. It has brought me a
large number of estimates in illustration. The


735


A889.1






THE VALUE OF AN EGYPTIAN GIRL'S GOLD -NECKLACE.


mathematical professor at Albany worked out the
problem, and I have his result. He requires
ninety-two -places of figures to state it. In exact
detail it is this: $12,625,000,000,000ooo,ooo,000,,000,
000, 000, 000, o,000, 000, 000, 000, 000, 0 000, 000,
000, 000, 000, 000, 000, 000, 000, 000, 000,000, 000,
ooo. Then this is to be multiplied-also by twenty,
because it was twenty dollars which was put at in-
terest, and the result represents the actual value of
the necklace. A likelier actual present value for
this necklace, however, would be about a hundred
dollars Then he follows with some very sugges-
tive comments and illustrations.
Practically, the above sum is infinity. The in-
terest upon it for one year would be practically
infinite. The fact that those ninety-two places are
virtually, and to all intents and purposes, infinity,
may become more evident by considering that, if
the amount originally put at interest had been one
cent instead of one dollar, the result would only
be lessened by two places of figures,- that is, one
one-hundredth; so if one mill were originally the
principal, the result would be lessened by three
places of figures ; or, in other words, would be one
one-thousandth. The mind can not conceive of
any such numbers; it can not appreciate any such
differences in the results; the figures throw all as-
tronomical ones into the shade- even such as are
used in reckoning with the remotest stars. If we
take the velocity of light, and then say it will need
four years to travel from a distant constellation,
the whole distance so ascertained is little compared


with a result measured by a line of ninety-two fig-
ures. All the wealth of the-world, real and per-
sonal, would not :approach such a number of
dollars; a million of worlds would not approach
it What is a man to do with.such revelations ?
And then, in order to calm my perturbed mind
and clear my bewildered brain, I sent the entire
calculations and comments and illustrations to my
honored friend, Professor Newton of Yale Uni-
versity. This patient man-was good enough to
examine them, and-he says they are correct, in the
main, in all their particulars. And he puts some
interesting questions of his own, that are excellent
to close this article with.
He bids me ask my arithmeticians to com-
pute the size of a pile of diamonds worth one
million dollars to the cubic inch, which pile, as a
mass, should be worth the difference between the
twenty dollars, put out at interest at six per cent.
compounded annually, and the same put out to
be compounded semi-annually, for thirty-six hun-
dred years. He grows bold enough to say that
this difference, when the interest is at three per
cent. for six months, is several times as great as
the vast amount we have been already contem-
plating. So now, having set me to gazing awhile
at such a pile of diamonds, he proposes that I ask
some one just to compute how many such spheres
of diamonds it will take to reach a star, provided
it is a million times as far away as the sun. And
then he adds: "Of course this is all play with
numbers, but it interests."


THE RAIN-HARP.


BY FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN.


WHEN out-of-doors is full of rain,
I look out through the window-pane,
And see the branches of the trees,
Like people dancing to the breeze.

They bow politely, cross, and meet,
Salute their partners and retreat,
And never stop to rest until
They reach the end of the quadrille.


I listen, and I hear the sound
Of music floating all around,
And fancy 't is the Breeze who plays_
Upon his harp on stormy days.

The strings are made of rain, and when
The branches wish to dance again,
They whisper to the Breeze, and he
Begins another melody.


I 've heard him play the pretty things
Upon those slender, shining strings;
And when he 's done-he 's very sharp,-
He always hides away the harp.


736














. .". _- -- .. .


BY RICHARD H. DAVIS.


HE BOYSliving
at the Atlantic
House, and the
boys boarding
at Chadwick's,
held mutual
sentiments of
something not
unlike enmity
feelings of
hostility from
which even the
older boarders
were not al-
together free.
Nor was this
unnatural under the circumstances.
When Judge Henry S. Carter and his friend
Dr. Prescott first discovered Manasquan, such an
institution as the Atlantic House seemed an impos-
sibility, and land improvement companies, Queen
Anne cottages, and hacks to and from the railroad
station, were out of all calculation. At that time
" Captain" Chadwick's farmhouse, though not
rich in all the modern improvements of a seaside
hotel, rejoiced in a table covered three times a day
with the good things from the farm. The river,
back of the house, was full of fish, and the pine-
woods along its banks were intended by Nature
expressly for the hanging of hammocks.
VOL. XVI.-47. 7"


The chief amusements were picnics to the head
of the river (or as near the head as the boats could
get through the lily-pads), crabbing along the
shore, and races on the river itself, which, if it was
broad, was so absurdly shallow that an upset meant
nothing more serious than a wetting and a tem-
porary loss of reputation as a sailor.
But all this had been spoiled by the advance of
civilization and the erection of the Atlantic House.
The railroad surveyors, with their high-top boots
and transits, were the first signs of the approach-
ing evils. After them came the Ozone Land Com-
pany, which bought up all the sand hills bordering
on the ocean, and proceeded to stake out a flour-
ishing city by the sea" and to erect sign-posts
in the marshes to show where they would lay out
streets, named after the directors of the Ozone
Land Company and the Presidents of the United
States.
It was not unnatural, therefore, that the Carters,
and the Prescotts, and all the Judge's clients, and
the Doctor's patients, who had been coming to
Manasquan for many years, and loved it for its
simplicity and quiet, should feel aggrieved at these
great changes. And though the young Carters
and Prescotts endeavored to impede the march of
civilization by pulling up the surveyor's stakes and
tearing down the Land Company's sign-posts, the
inevitable improvements marched steadily on.
I hope .all this will show why it was that the


r~


-r






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


boys who lived at the Atlantic House and dressed
as if they were still in the city, and had hops "
every evening- were not pleasing to the boys who
boarded at Chadwick's, who never changed their
flannel suits for anything more formal than their
bathing-dresses, and spent the summer nights on
the river.
This spirit of hostility and its past history were
explained to the new arrival at Chadwick's by
young Teddy Carter, as the two sat under the
willow tree watching a game of tennis. The new
arrival had just expressed his surprise at the ear-
nest desire manifest on the part of the entire Chad-
wick establishment to defeat the Atlantic House
people in the great race which was to occur on
the day following.
"Well, you see, sir," said Teddy, consider-
able depends on this race. As it is now, we stand
about even. The Atlantic House beat us playing
base-ball- though they had to get the waiters to
help them- and we beat them at tennis.. Our
house is great on tennis. Then we had a boat-
race, and our boat won. They claimed it was n't
a fair race, because their best boat was stuck on
the sand-bar, and so we agreed to sail it. over
again. The second time the wind gave out, and
all the boats had to be poled home. The Atlan-
tic House boat was poled in first, and her crew
claimed the race. Was n't it silly of them ? Why,
Charley Prescott told them, if they 'd only said it
was to be a poling match, he 'd have entered a
mud-scow and left his sail-boat at the dock! "
"And so you are going to race again to-mor-
row? asked the new arrival.
"Well, it is n't exactly a race," explained Teddy.
"It 's a game we boys have invented. We call
it 'Pirates and Smugglers.' It 's something like
tag, only we play it on the water, in boats. We
divide boats and boys up into two sides; half of
them are pirates or smugglers, and half of them
are revenue officers or man-o'-war's-men. The
'Pirate's Lair' is at the island, and our dock is
Cuba.' That's where the smugglers run in for
cargoes of cigars and brandy. Mr. Moore gives
us his empty cigar boxes, and Miss Sherrill (the
lady who 's down here for her health) lets us have
all the empty Apollinaris bottles. We fill the bot-
tles with water colored with crushed blackberries,
and that answers for brandy.
"The revenue officers are stationed at Annapolis
(that's the Atlantic House dock), and when they
see a pirate start from the island, or from our dock,
they sail after him. If they can touch him with
the bow of their boat, or if one of their men can
board him, that counts one for the revenue officers;
and they take down his sail and the pirate captain
gives up his tiller as a sign of surrender.


Then they tow him back to Annapolis, where
they keep him a prisoner until he is exchanged.
But if the pirate can dodge the Custom House
boat, and get to the place he started for, without
being caught, that counts one for him."
"Very interesting, indeed," said the new arrival;
"but suppose the pirate won't be captured or give
up his tiller, what then ? "
S"Oh, well, in that case," said Teddy, reflect-
ively, "they 'd cut his sheet-rope, or splash water
on him, or hit him with an oar, or something.
But he generally gives right up. Now, to-morrow
the Atlantic House boys are to be the revenue
officers and we are to be the pirates. They have
been watching us aswe played the game, all summer,
and they think they understand it well enough to
capture our boats without any trouble at all."
"And what do you think?" asked the new
arrival.
"Well, I can't say, certainly. They have faster
boats than ours, but they don't know how to sail
them. If we had their boats, or if they knew as
much about the river as we do, it would be easy
enough to name the winners. But, as it is, it's
about even."

Every one who owned a boat was on the river,
the following afternoon, and those who did n't own
a boat, hired, or borrowed one with or without
the owner's permission.
The shore from Chadwick's to the Atlantic House
dock was crowded with people. All Manasquan
seemed to be ranged in line along the river's bank.
Crab-men and clam-diggers mixed indiscriminately
with the summer boarders; and the beach-wagons
and stages from Chadwick's grazed the wheels of
the dog-carts and drags from the Atlantic's livery-
stables.
It does not take much to overthrow the pleasant
routine of summer-resort life, and the state of tem-
porary excitement existing at the two houses on the
eve of the race was not limited to the youthful con-
testants.
The proprietor of the Atlantic House had already
announced an elaborate supper in honoi of the an-
ticipated victory, and every father and mother whose
son was to take part in the day's race felt the im-
portance of the occasion even more keenly than
the son himself.
"Of course," said Judge Carter, "it's only a
game, and for my part, so long as no one is drowned,
I don't really care who wins; but, if our boys"
("our boys" meaning all three crews) "allow
those young whippersnappers from the Atlantic
House to win the pennant, they deserve to have
their boats taken from them and exchanged for
hoops and marbles! "


738





MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


Which goes to show how serious a matter was
the success of the Chadwick crews.
At three o'clock the amateur pirates started from
the dock to take up their positions at the island.
Each of the three small cat-boats held two boys:
one at the helm and one in charge of the center-
board and sheet-rope. Each pirate wore a jersey
striped with differing colors, and the head of each
bore the sanguinary red, knitted cap in which all
genuine pirates are wont to appear. From the
peaks of the three boats floated black flags, bear-
ing the emblematic skull and bones, of Captain
Kidd's followers.
As they left the dock the Chadwick's people
cheered with delight at their appearance and shouted
encouragement, while the remaining youngsters
fired salutes with a small cannon, which added to
the uproar as well as increased the excitement of
the moment by its likelihood to explode.


and determined purpose such as Decatur may have
worn as he paced the deck of his man-of-war and
scanned the horizon for Algerine pirates. The
stars-and-stripes floated bravely from the peaks
of the three cat-boats, soon to leap in pursuit of
the pirate craft which were conspicuously making
for the starting-point at the island.
At half-past three the judges' steam-launch, the
"Gracie," made for the middle of the river, carrying
two representatives from both houses and a dozen
undergraduates from different colleges, who had
chartered the boat for the purpose of following the
race and seeing at close quarters all that was to
be seen.
They enlivened the occasion by courteously and
impartially giving the especial yell of each college
of which there was a representative present, whether
they knew him or not, or whether he happened to
be an undergraduate, a professor, or an alumnus.


"'WHICH DO I THINK IS GOING TO, WIN' SAID THE VETERAN BOAT-BUILDER TO THE INQUIRING GROUP AROUND
HIS BOAT-HOUSE."
At the Atlantic House dock, also, the excitement Lest some one might inadvertently be overlooked,
was at fever heat. they continued to yell throughout the course of the
Clad in white flannel suits and white duck yacht- afternoon, giving, in time, the shibboleth of every
ing-caps with gilt buttons, the revenue officers known institution of learning.
strolled up and down the pier with an air of cool Which do I think is going to win? said the


x889.]






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


veteran boat-builder of Manasquan to the inquir-
ing group around his boat-house. "Well, I would
n't like to say. You see, I built every one of those
boats that sails to-day, and every time I make a
boat I make it better than the last one. Now, the
Chadwick boats I built near five years ago, and the
Atlantic House boats I built last summer, and I've
learned a good deal in five years."
So you think our side will win ?" eagerly in-
terrupted an Atlantic House boarder.
"Well, I did n't say so, did I ? inquired the
veteran, with crushing slowness of speech. I did
n't say so. For though these boats the Chadwick's
boys have is five years old, they're good boats still;
and those boys know every trick and turn of 'em
- and they know every current and sand-bar just
as though it was marked with a piece of chalk. So,
if the Atlantic folks win, it '11 be because they 've
got the best boats; and if the Chadwick boys win,
they '11 win because they 're the better sailors."
In the fashion of all first-class aquatic contests,
it was fully half an hour after the time appointed
for the race to begin before the first pirate boat
left the island.
The Ripple," with Judge Carter's two sons in
command, was the leader; and when her sail filled
and showed above the shore, a cheer from the
Chadwick's dock was carried to the ears of the pi-
rate crew who sat perched on the rail as she started
on her first long tack.
In a moment, two of the Atlantic House heroes
tumbled into the "Osprey," a dozen over-hasty
hands had cast off her painter, had shoved her head
into the stream, and.the great race was begun.
The wind was down the river, or toward the
island, so that while the Osprey was sailing before
the wind, the Ripple had her sail close-hauled
and was tacking.
They 're after us said Charley Carter, ex-
citedly. It's the .Osprey, but I can't make out
who 's handling her. From the way they are point-
ing, I think they expect to reach us on this tack as
we go about."
The crew of the Osprey evidently thought so
too, for her bow was pointed at a spot on the shore,
near which the Ripple must turn if she continued
much longer on the same tack.
Do you see that?" gasped Charley, who was
acting as lookout. "They're letting her drift in
in the wind so as not to get there before us. I tell
you what it is, Gus, they know what they 're do-
ing, and I think we 'd better go about now."
Do you ? inquired the younger brother, who
had a lofty contempt for the other's judgment as a
sailor. "Well, I don't. My plan is simply this:
I am going to run as near the shore as I can, then
go about sharp, and let them drift by us by a boat's


length. A boat's length is as good as a mile, and
then, when we are both heading the same way, I
would like to see them touch us "
"What's the use of taking such risks?" de-
manded the elder brother. "I tell you we can't
afford to let them get so near as that."
At the same time," replied the man at the helm,
"that is what we are going to do. I am command-
ing this boat, please to remember, and if I take
the risks I am willing to take the blame."
"You '11 be doing well if you get off with noth-
ing but blame," growled the elder brother. "If you
let those kids catch us, I '11 throw you overboard I "
"I'll put you in irons for threatening a superior
officer if you don't keep quiet," answered the
younger Carter, with a grin, and the mutiny ended.
It certainly would have been great sport to have
run almost into the arms of the revenue officers,
and then to have turned and led them a race to
the goal, but the humor of young Carter's plan was
not so apparent to the anxious throng of sympa-
thizers on Chadwick's dock.
What's the matter with the boys Why don't
they go about ?" asked Captain Chadwick, excitedly.
"One would think they were trying to be caught."
As he spoke, the sail of the Ripple fluttered
in the wind, her head went about sharply, and, as
her crew scrambled up on the windward rail, she
bent and bowed gracefully on the homeward tack.
But, before the boat was fully under way, the
Osprey came down upon her with a rush. The Car-
ters hauled in the sail until their sheet lay almost
flat with the surface of the river, the water came
pouring over the leeward rail, and the boys threw
their bodies far over the other side, in an effort to
right her. The next instant there was a crash, the
despised boat of the Atlantic House struck her fairly
in the side and one of the Atlantic House crew
had boarded the Ripple with a painter in one hand
and his hat in the other.
Whether it was the shock of the collision, or
disgust at having been captured, no one could
tell; but when the Osprey's bow struck the Ripple,
the younger Carter calmly let himself go over back-
ward and remained in the mud with the water up
to his chin and without making any effort to help
himself, until the judges' boat picked him up and
carried him, an ignominious prisoner-of-wai, to the
Atlantic House dock.
The disgust over the catastrophe to the pirate
crew was manifested on the part of the Chad-
wick sympathizers by gloomy silence or loudly
expressed indignation. On the whole, it was per-
haps just as well that the two Carters, as prisoners-
of-war, were forced to remain at the Atlantic House
dock, for their reception at home would not have
been a gracious one.


740






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


Their captors, on the other hand, .were received
with all the honor due triumphant heroes, and were
trotted off the pier on the shoulders of their cheering
admirers; while the girls in the carriages waved their
parasols and handkerchiefs and the colored waiters
on the banks danced up and down and shouted like
so many human calliopes.
The victories of John Paul Jones and the rescue
of Lieutenant Greely became aquatic events of
little importance in comparison. Everybody was
so encouraged at this first success, that Atlantic


hundred yards from the Atlantic House pier, where
the excitement had passed the noisy point and had
reached that of titillating silence.
Go about sharp !" snapped out the captain of
the pirate boat, pushing his tiller from him and
throwing his weight upon it. His first officer pulled
the sail close over the deck, the wind caught it fairly,
and, almost before the spectators were aware of it,
the pirate boat had gone about and was speeding
away on another tack. The revenue officers were
not prepared for this. They naturally thought the


"WHEN THE OSPREY'S BOW STRUCK THE RIPPLE, THE YOUNGER CARTER CALMLY LET HIMSELF GO OVER BACKWARD
AND REMAINED IN THE MUD WITH THE WATER UP TO HIS CHIN."


House stock rose fifty points in as many seconds,
and the next crew to sally forth from that favored
party felt that the second and decisive victory was
already theirs.
Again the black flag appeared around the bank
of the island, and on the instant a second picked
crew of the Atlantic House was in pursuit. But
the boys who commanded the pirate craft had no
intention of taking nor giving any chances. They
put their boat about, long before the revenue
officers expected them to do so, forcing their adver-
saries to go so directly before the wind that their boat
rocked violently. It was not long before the boats
drew nearer and nearer together, again, as if they
must certainly meet at a point not more than a


pirates would run as close to the shore as they
possibly could before they tacked, and were aiming
for the point at which they calculated their oppo-
nents would go about, just as did the officers in
the first race.
Seeing this, and not wishing to sail too close to
them, the pirates had gone about much farther
from the shore than was needful. In order to fol-
low them the revenue officers were now forced to
come about and tack, which, going before the wind
as they were, they found less easy. The sudden
change in their opponents' tactics puzzled them,
and one of the two boys bungled. On future oc-
casions each confidentially informed his friends
that it was the other who was responsible; but,


88g.]


741






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


however that may have been, the boat missed
stays, her sail flapped weakly in the breeze, and,
while the crew were vigorously trying to set her in
the wind by lashing the water with her rudder, the
pirate boat was off and away, one hundred yards to
the good, and the remainder of the race was a pro-
cession of two boats with the pirates easily in the
lead.
And now came the final struggle. Now came
the momentous "rubber," which was to plunge
Chadwick's into gloom, or keep them still the
champions of the river. The appetites of both
were whetted for victory by the single triumph
each had already won, and their representatives
felt that, for them, success or a watery grave were
the alternatives.
The Atlantic House boat, the "Wave," and the
boat upon which the Chadwicks' hopes were set,
the "Rover," were evenly matched, theircrewswere
composed of equally good sailors, and each was de-
termined to tow the other ignominiously into port.
The two Prescotts watched the Wave critically
and admiringly, as she came toward them with
her crew perched on her side and the water show-
ing white under her bow.
They 're coming entirely too fast to suit me,"
said the elder Prescott. I want more room and
I have a plan to get it. Stand ready to go about."
The younger brother stood ready to go about,
keeping the Rover on her first tack until she was
clear of the island's high banks and had the full
sweep of the wind; then, to the surprise of her
pursuers and the bewilderment of the spectators,
she went smartly about, and, turning her bow di-
rectly away from the goal, started before the wind
back past the island and toward the wide stretch
of river on the upper side.
What's your man doing that for? excitedly
asked one of the Atlantic House people, of the
prisoners-of-war.
"I don't know, certainly," one of the Carters
answered, "but I suppose he thinks his boat can
go faster before the wind than the Wave can, and
is counting on getting a long lead on her before
he turns to come back. There is much more room
up there, and the opportunities for dodging are
r about twice as good."
Why did n't we think of that, Gus?" whis-
pered the other Carter.
We were too anxious to show what smart sail-
ors we were, to think of anything answered his
brother, ruefully.
Beyond the island the Rover gained rapidly;
but, as soon as she turned and began beating
homeward, the Wave showed that tacking was her
strong point and began, in turn, to make up all
the advantage the Rover had gained.


The Rover's pirate-king cast a troubled eye at
the distant goal and at the slowly but steadily ad-
vancing. Wave.
His younger brother noticed the look.
If one could only do something," he exclaimed,
impatiently. That 's the worst of sailing races.
In a rowing race you can pull till you break your
back, if you want to; but here you must just sit still
and watch the other fellow creep up, inch by inch,
without being able to do anything to help your-
self. If I could only get out and push, or pole!
It's this trying to keep still that drives me crazy."
I think we 'd better go about, now," said the
commander quietly, and instead of going about
again when we are off the bar, I intend to try to
cross it."
What! gasped the younger Prescott, go
across the bar at low water? You can't do it.
You '11 stick sure. Don't try it. Don't think of
it "
"It is rather a forlorn hope, I know," said his
brother; "but you can see, yourself, they 're
bound to overhaul us if we keep on we don't draw
as much water as they do, and if they try to follow
us we '11 leave them high and dry on the bar."
The island stood in the center of the river, sepa-
rated from the shore on one side by the channel,
through which both boats had already passed, and
on the other by a narrow stretch of water which
barely covered the bar the Rover purposed to cross.
When she pointed for it, the Wave promptly
gave up chasing her,- and made for the channel
with the intention of heading her off in the event
of her crossing the bar.
She 's turned back! exclaimed the captain of
the Rover. Now, if we only can clear it, we '11
have a beautiful start on her. Sit perfectly still,
and, if you hear her center-board scrape, pull it
up, and balance so as to keep her keel level."
Slowly the Rover drifted toward the bar; once her
center-board touched, and as the boat moved fur-
ther into the shallow water the waves rose higher
in proportion at the stern.
But her keel did not touch, and as soon as the
dark water showed again, her crew gave an exult-
ant shout and pointed her bow toward the-Chad-
wick dock, whence a welcoming cheer came faintly
over the mile of water.
I 'll bet they did n't cheer much when we were
crossing the bar! said the younger brother, with a
grim chuckle. "I '11 bet they thought we were.
mighty foolish."
"We could n't have done anything else," re-
turned the superior officer. It was risky, though.
If we 'd moved an inch she would have grounded.
sure."
I was scared so stiff that I could n't have moved






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


if I 'd tried to," testified the younger sailor with
cheerful frankness.
Meanwhile, the wind had freshened, and white-
caps began to show over the roughened surface of
the river, while sharp, ugly flaws struck the sails
of the two contesting boats from all directions, mak-
ing them bow before the sudden gusts of wind until
the water poured over the sides.
But the sharpness of the wind made the racing
only more exciting, and such a series of maneuvers
as followed, and such a naval battle, was never be-
fore seen on the Manasquan River.
The boys handled their boats like veterans, and
the boats answered every movement of the rudders
and shortening of the sails as a thoroughbred horse
obeys its bridle. 'They ducked and dodged, turned
and followed in pursuit, now going free before the
wind, now racing, close-hauled into the teeth of it.
Several times a capture seemed inevitable, but a
quick turn of the tiller would send the pirates out
of danger. And, as many times, the pirate crew
almost succeeded in crossing the line, but before
they could reach it the revenue cutter would sweep
down upon them and frighten them away again.
We can't keep this up much longer," said the
elder Prescott. There's more water in the boat
now than is safe; and every time we go about we
ship three or four bucketfuls more."
As he spoke, a heavy flaw keeled the boat over
again, and, before her crew could right her, the
water came pouring over the side with the steadi-
ness of a small waterfall. That settles it for us,"
exclaimed Prescott, grimly; "we must pass the
line on this tack, or we sink."
They 're as badly off as we are," returned his
brother. See how she 's wobbling- but she's
gaining on us, just the same," he added.
Keep her toit, then," said the man at the helm.
"Hold on to that sheet, no matter how much water
she ships."
If I don't let it out a little, she '11 sink "
"Let her sink, then," growled the chief officer.
I 'd rather upset than be caught."
The people on the shore and on the judges'.boat
appreciated the situation fully as well as the racers.
They had seen, for some time, how slowly the boats
responded to their rudders and how deeply they
were sunk in the water.
All the maneuvering for the past ten minutes had
been off the Chadwick dock, and the Atlantic
House people, in order to get a better view of the
finish, were racing along the bank on foot and in
carriages,- cheering their champions as they came.
The Rover was pointed to cross an imaginary
line between the judges' steam-launch and Chad-
wick's dock. Behind her, not three boat-lengths
in the rear, so close that her wash impeded their


headway, came the revenue officers, their white
caps off, their hair flying in the wind, and every
muscle strained.
Both crews were hanging far over the sides of
the boats, while each wave washed the water into
the already half-filled cockpits.
"Look out!" shouted the younger Prescott,
"here comes another flaw "
"Don't let that sail out!" shouted back his
brother, and as the full force of the flaw struck her,
the boat's rail buried itself in the water and her
sail swept along the surface of the river.
For an instant it looked as if the boat was
swamped, but as the force of the flaw passed over
her, she slowly righted again, and with her sail
dripping and heavy, and rolling like a log, she
plunged forward on her way to the goal.
When the flaw struck the Wave, her crew let
their sheet go free, saving themselves the inunda-
tion of water -which had almost swamped the
Rover, but losing the headway, which the Rover
had kept.
Before the Wave regained it, the pirate craft
had increased her lead, though it was only for a
moment.
"We can't make it," shouted the younger Pres-
cott, turning his face toward his brother so that the
wind might not drown his voice. They 're after
us again, and we 're settling fast."
So are they," shouted his brother. "We
can't be far from the line now, and as soon as we
cross that, it does n't matter what happens to us "
As he spoke another heavy gust of wind came
sweeping toward them, turning the surface of the
river dark blue as it passed over, and flattening out
the waves.
Look at that! groaned the pirate-king, add-
ing, with professional disregard for the Queen's
English, "We 're done for now, that 's certain "
But before the flaw reached them, and almost be-
fore the prophetic words were uttered, the cannon
on the judges' boat banged forth merrily, and the
crowds on the Chadwick dock answered its signal
with an unearthly yell of triumph.
"We 're across, we 're across! shouted the
younger Prescott, jumping up. to his knees in the
water in the bottom of the boat and letting the wet
sheet-rope run freely through his stiff and blistered
fingers.
But the movement was an unfortunate one.
The flaw struck the boat with her heavy sail
dragging in the water, and with young Prescott's
weight removed from the rail. She reeled under
the gust as a tree bows in a storm, bent gracefully
before it, and then turned over slowly on her side.
The next instant the Wave swept by her, and
as the two Prescotts scrambled up- on the gunwale






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


"THE 'WAVE' SWEPT BY HER AND THE DEFEATED CREW SALUTED THE VICTORS WITH CHEERS."


of their boat the defeated crew saluted them with
cheers, in response to which the victors bowed as
gracefully as their uncertain position would permit.
The new arrival, who had come to Manasquan
in the hope of finding something to shoot, stood
among the people on the bank and discharged his
gun until the barrels were so hot that he had to
lay the gun down to cool. And every other man
and boy who owned a gun or pistol of any sort,
fired it off and yelled at the same time, as if the
contents of the gun or pistol had entered his own
body. Unfortunately, every boat possessed a tin
horn with which the helmsman was wont to warn
of his approach the keeper of the draw-bridge.
One evil-minded captain blew a blast of triumph,
and in a minute's time the air was rent with toot-
ings little less vicious than those of the steam
whistle of a locomotive.
The last had been so hard-fought a race, and
both crews had acquitted themselves so well, that
their respective followers joined in cheering them
indiscriminately.
The Wave just succeeded in reaching the
dock before she settled and sank. A dozen of
Chadwick's boarders seized the crew by their coat-
collars and arms as they leaped from the sinking
boat to the pier and assisted them to their feet,


forgetful in the excitement of the moment that the
sailors were already as wet as sponges on their
native rocks.
I suppose I should have stuck to my ship as
Prescott did," said the captain of the Wave with
a smile, pointing to where the judges' boat was
towing in the Rover with her crew still clinging
to her side; "but I'd already thrown you my rope,
you know, and there really is n't anything heroic
in sticking to a sinking ship when she goes down
in two feet of water."
As soon as the Prescotts reached the pier they
pushed their way to their late rivals and shook them
heartily by their hands. Then the Atlantic House
people carried their crew around on their shoulders,
and the two Chadwick's crews were honored in
the same embarrassing manner. The proprietor
of the Atlantic House invited the entire Chadwick
establishment over to a dance and a late supper.
"I prepared it for the victors," he said, "and
though these victors don't happen to be the ones I
prepared it for, the victors must eat it."
The sun had gone down for over half an hour
before the boats and carriages had left the Chad-
wick dock, and the Chadwick people had an oppor-
tunity to rush home to dress. They put on their
very best clothes, "just to show the Atlantic people


744






MIDSUMMER PIRATES.


that they had something else besides flannels,"
and danced in the big hall of the Atlantic House
until late in the evening.
When the supper was served, the victors were
toasted and cheered and presented with. a very
handsome set of colors, and then Judge Carter
made a stirring speech.
He went over the history of the rival houses in a
way that pleased everybody, and made all the peo-
ple at the table feel ashamed of themselves for ever
having been rivals at all.
He pointed out in courtly phrases how excellent
and varied were the modern features of the Atlan-
tic House, and yet how healthful and satisfying


was the old-fashioned simplicity of Chadwick's. He
expressed the hope that the two houses would learn
to appreciate each other's virtues, and hoped that
in the future they would see more of each other.
To which sentiment everybody assented most
noisily and enthusiastically, and the proprietor of
the Atlantic House said that, in his opinion,
Judge Carter's speech was one of the finest he had
ever listened to, and he considered that part of it
which touched on the excellent attractions of the
Atlantic House as simply sublime, and that, with
his Honor's permission, he intended to use it in his
advertisements and circulars, with Judge Carter's
name attached.


$' ^


A PORTRAIT.

BY MARY E. WILKINS.

WHO is that young and gentle dame who stands in yonder gilded frame,
Clad in a simple muslin gown where broideredd frills hang limply down,
Blue ribbons in her yellow curls, around her neck a string of pearls -
Her eyes, blue stars in ancient gloom, a-seeking you all o'er the room,
As if to call sweet memories to her ? --
My grandmother, before I knew her.


1889.]


745


~;zc~a~lsert4a~s~ri~~
-e ^I
~w_ -nl


= **- .
/"














THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.

BY JOSEPH JASTROW, PH. D.


THE PERKINS INSTITUTE FOR THE BLIND, SOUTH BOSTON.


ONCE upon a time (so all strange stories begin)
there was born a baby girl. The peculiar thing
about this once upon a time is, that I can tell
you just when it happened, while the fairy-tale
writers never can. It was on December 21, 1829,
she was born into this world; and no one dreamed
of the wonderful life this child was destined to live.
She was a pretty infant with bright blue eyes, but
very delicate and small, and she was often severely
ill. But when she came to be about eighteen
months old, her health improved, and at two years
of age, those who knew her describe her as a very
active and intelligent child. She had already
learned to speak a few words, and knew some of
the letters of the alphabet.
But, when she was two years and one month
old, came the sad event which was to make her
life a strange one. The scarlet-fever entered the
household. Her two elder sisters died of the dis-
ease, and she was stricken down by it. She was


dangerously ill for a long, long time. No one
thought it possible that this delicate child could
recover. For five months she was in bed, in a per-
fectly dark room. She could eat no solid food for
seven weeks. It was a whole year before she could
walk without support, and two years before she
could sit up all day and dismiss the doctor. But
she did not die, though for long her life hung by
a slender thread. And, when she recovered, she
was really born anew into a strange world-a
world so strange that we of this world can hardly
imagine what it is to live in it. The fever had de-
stroyed her sight,-the poor little girl was forever
blind. Nor was this all; her hearing, too, was
totally gone. And, not being able to hear, she
would never learn to talk as we do,-she was dumb.
A pretty child of five years,-deaf, dumb, and
blind! Even worse,- she had very little power
to smell or taste. Touch was her only sense. Her
fingers must take the place of eyes, ears, and mouth.






THE STORY OF L

Of course the fever had destroyed all recollection
of her babyhood. Her life in this beautiful world
that children love, and which she had hardly
known, was over. She must live in a dark world
without sunshine,--a silent world without a sound.
She could not even smell the flowers whose beau-
ties she could not see.
But lest you should think so strange and sad a
story is not meant to be true, I will tell you her
name. It was Laura Dewey Bridgman. Here it is
in her own handwriting:



tT L TU.. 6 hrfa


Her parents-Daniel and Harmony Bridg-
man-lived on a farm about seven miles from
Hanover, New Hampshire, and there Laura was
born.
Some time ago I went to a large, old-fashioned
building in South Boston-the Perkins Institute
for the Blind. At the door of a neat cottage near
the main building I asked for Miss Bridgman.
Soon a pleasant-looking woman, fifty-seven years
old, though looking younger, came into the parlor
with the matron.
Miss Bridgman was rather tall and thin and usu-
ally wore large blue spectacles. When told my
name, she shook hands and was pleased to learn
that I brought the greetings of a friend of hers. Her
face brightened and she uttered a low sound which
she could make when pleased. She was very lively,
and one could almost read her feelings by her face.
But how could she talk and be understood?
That is a long and a strange story. I must begin
at the beginning.
- She lived on the farm near Hanover until she
was eight years old. Her parents were poor and
they knew nothing of the ways of teaching the
blind or the deaf and dumb. They treated her
with great kindness and taught her to make her-
self useful about the house. It was difficult to
make her understand what they desired, but they
communicated by simple signs. Pushing meant
" go," and pulling, come." A pat on the head
meant "That 's good, Laura"; a pat on the
back, "Laura must n't do that." When Laura
wanted bread and butter she stroked one hand
with the other to imitate the buttering; when she
wished to go to bed,, she nodded her head, just as
other children do when "the Sandman" comes.
And when she did n't wish to go to bed, but her
father thought she ought (perhaps you have heard
of such cases), he stamped on the floor until she
felt the shaking, and Laura knew what he meant.


AURA BRIDGMAN. 747

Her mother taught her to knit, to sew, to set the
table, and to do other such little things. When
she set the table, she never forgot just where the
little knife and fork belonged for her little brother.
But I will not tell this part of the story, because
Laura has told it herself. When she was twenty-
five years old, she wrote an autobiography, telling
all she remembered of her life at home. Here it
lies on my table; sixty-five pages written in a
queer, square handwriting. She had a peculiar
way of saying things; but when you remember
that she never heard a word spoken, nor spoke
one herself, and how hard it must be to learn to
write without seeing the letters, you will think it
wonderful enough that she could write at all.
Here is the first page of the autobiography:*

"THE HISTORY OF MY LIFE.
"I should like to write down the earliest life extremely.
I recollect very distinctly how my life elapsed since I
was an infant. But that I have had the vague recollec-
tion of my infancy. I was taken most perilously ill
when I was two years and a half. I was attacked with
the scarlet-fever for three long weeks. My dearest
mother was so painfully apprehensive that there was a
great danger of my dying, for my sickness was so ex-
cessive. The physician pronounced that I should not
live much longer. My mother had a watch over me in
my great agony many many nights. I was choked up*
for 7 weeks as I could not swallow a morsel of any
sort of food, except I drank some crust coffee. I was
not conveyed out of the house, for an instant for 4
months till in June or July."

Then she tells how delighted her mother was
when she was getting well, how attentive people
were to her, and how the light stung her eyelids
"like a sharpest needle or a wasp." She liked to
see her mother "make so numerous cheeses, apple,
and egg, and mince-pies, and doughnuts, and all
kinds of food which always gratified my appetite
very much." She tells how her mother spun and
carded wool, and washed, and cooked, and ironed,
and made maple-molasses, and butter, and much
else. It is really wonderful how well she knew what
was going on. She used to follow her mother
about the rooms, and touch the various objects,
tables, chairs, books, etc., until she knew them all.
Laura's great friend was a Mr. Tenny, a kind-
hearted old man, who "loved me as much as if
I was his own daughter," she writes. He used
to take her out for a walk across the fields, or sit
down by the brook and amuse her by throwing
stones into the water and letting her feel the little
waves, that the stonesmade, come back to theshore.
She always knew Mr. Tenny and all her friends by
simply feeling their hands. So you see that little
Laura was quite happy. She never knew how


* I am never sure of her punctuation. All the rest is just as she wrote it.






748 THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. [AUG.
much more of the world other little girls could en- my boot, nor any of my folks. I did not feel so
joy, and so she did not envy them. She says her- solitary with a baby as I should have felt if I had
self that I was full of mischief and fun. I was in not it." "I liked my living baby, the cat, much
such high spirits, generally, I would cling to my better than the boot."
mother, wildly and peevishly many times." She In this way she spent three long years. Her few


LAURA DEWEY BRIDGMAN. (FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY CONLY, BOSTON.)


once seized Mr. Tenny's spectacles from his nose,
and the old gentleman took it very good-naturedly.
She innocently threw the cat into the fire, which
neitherher mother nor the cat considered good fun.
She liked sweet things and nice dresses, and was
not so very different from other girls, in any way.
Of course she had a doll, but a queer one it was:
" I had a man's large boot which I called my little
baby. I enjoyed myself in playing with the arti-
ficial baby very much. I never knew how to kiss


signs were all that connected her with other human
beings. She did not know the name of anything.
She knew only the few things that she could touch.
For all the rest she lived in that dark, silent, lonely
world of her own. The green trees and gay flowers,
the blue sky and floating clouds were unknown to
her. Imagine, if you can, a world without color,
without light! A perpetual night without moon
or stars; would n't it be awful? No green fields
and no sky; no blue eyes and golden hair; no pict-






THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.


ure-books nor bright dresses. And the sad still-
ness of that world, where nobody laughs and no
birds sing and Mother's voice does n't call and
comfort; where nobody can tell stories or play
make-believe. Think of a child who could n't ask
questions! Why, that's the principal thing that
children have to do !
But Laura was not to stay much longer in her
lonely world. One day a gentleman came to see
her parents and offered to take Laura to Boston to
teach her to read and write as other blind children
do, and to talk with her fingers, as do the deaf and
dumb. It was Dr. Samuel Howe, superintendent of
the Perkins Institute for the Blind. -He was one of
those wise men who put heart and soul into what-
ever they decide to do. What Dr. Howe decided
to do was to bring Laura Bridgman back into
our world, just so far as that could be done. Of.
course her parents were sorry to have Laura go,
but they knew it was for the best; and Laura felt
just as homesick, when she came to the big institu-
tion in Boston, as any ofher girl of eight years
would have felt. Of course she could n't know why
she was taken away from home. She soon made
friends with the matron, and with her teacher, Miss
Drew. She spent much time, the first few days,
in knitting, for she liked to have something to do,
and took her work to the matron whenever she
dropped a stitch.
One morning,: after she was used to the Home,
Dr. Howe and Miss Drew gave Laura her first
lesson. They were to teach her the alphabet.
But how? She could n't see the letters, but she
could feel them if they were cut out of wood or
raised on paper. But when she felt something
like an A, she could not know what it was, and they
could not tell her. It was just the same as feeling
her mother's tea-pot:-it was a thing with a funny
shape and did n't seem to be of any known use.
As for three things, like C, A, T, spelling or mean-
ing the puss, you might as well ask her to feel a
table, a chair, and an inkstand, and give her to
understand that those meant the cat. There did not
seem to be any way of showing her what a word
was for; you learned itjust by hearing other people
speak. But Laura had never heard nor read nor
spoken a word since she could remember.
This is what Dr. Howe did. He took some
things such as she knew at home,- a knife, fork,
spoon, key, chair,-and then formed on labels in
large raised letters the names of these things -
KNIFE, FORK, etc. He made her feel the knife,
and then passed her'finger over the label; then, he
pasted the label, KNIFE, on the knife, to show that
they belonged together, and made her feel them
again. Laura submitted to it. But all she un-
derstood was that the labels were not all alike,


and people seemed to want to paste them on
things. Her first lesson, lasting three-quarters of
an hour, left her much puzzled. But at last, after
many repetitions of this exercise, she seemed to get
the idea that the raised labels meant the objects.
She showed this by taking the label, CHAIR,
and placing it on one chair and then on another.
Now, Laura was interested; it was a splendid
game. Dr. Howe gave her the things and she
was to find the right labels; then he gave her the
labels and she found the things. She had learned
what a word is, and was delighted. Dr. Howe
always patted her on the head when she was right,
and tapped her lightly on the elbow when she
was wrong. The lessons were long and tedious,
but -she was acquiring a language!
Of course one cant not do much talking with a
lot of labels; and a great many things that one
wishes to talk about can not be labeled at all.
The next thing was to teach her that a word was
made up of letters. The label, BOOK, was cut up
into four parts: B, O, O, K. Laura was then made
to feel the label and each of the parts; then these
were mixed together and she was to set up the
word like the label. That was rather easy.
Then Dr. Howe had a case of metal types made
for her. It had four alphabets in it and one was
always set up in alphabetical order, while she
moved about the other three. In three days she
learned the order of the letters, and could find
any letter at once. She was never tired of setting
up the metal types, to make the few words she had
learned. She could really be a child now, for she
could ask questions. She indicated the butter
to ask what the name of it was, and her teacher
set up B-U-T-T-E-R oft the type-case. Laura felt
it, took it apart and set it up again, and knew it
ever after. Those were bright and busy days for
her. She was making up for her long years of
loneliness, and entering a real world at last.
But even this was a clumsy way of talking.
There was a much quicker way for her: the finger
alphabet; and that was learned next. Most deaf-
mutes can see the signs, but Laura had to learn
them by feeling. They gave her the type A to feel
with one hand, while she felt the position of the
teacher's hand with the other. Then she herself
made the sign for A, and was patted on the head
for getting it right. She was overjoyed with this
easy way of talking. This is what her teacher
said of it: "I shall never forget the first meal
taken after she appreciated these of the finger
alphabet. Every article that she touched must
have a name, and I was obliged to call some one
to help me wait upon the other children, while
she kept me busy in spelling the new words."
In that way she talked with me when I saw her


749


1889.1






THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.


in Boston. The matron put her own hand in Miss
Bridgman's and spelled out the words so fast
that you could hardly follow the motions. But
she was understood still faster and, with her other
hand, Miss Bridgman was ready to spell out the
answers. At one time, she went to lectures with
her teacher, and if the lecturers spoke slowly her
teacher could make the signs, and she could
understand them as fast as the words were spoken.
So far, she knew only the names of things. When




A B C D E F



G H I J K L


M N P




R .S T- U V





THE FINGER ALPHABET.
she had learned about one hundred of these com-
mon nouns, Miss Drew began to teach her a few
verbs. She let Laura feel the motion of the door
as it was being closed, and then spelled out Shut
door" on her fingers. Then the door was opened
and her teacher spelled out "Open door." Laura
knew what door was, and so easily learned the
meaning of "shut" and "open." Then adjectives
were learned, beginning with such as could be
easily understood, for example: heavy, light,
rough, smooth, thick, thin, wet, dry. Next she
learned proper names, and very soon she knew the
names of all the many persons in that large institu-
tion. But just think she never knew her own
name nor even that she had one, until then-
when she was nine years old. A year later, she be-
gan to learn to write. A pasteboard, with grooves
in it, just the size of the small letters, was put un-
der the paper. A letter was pricked in stiff paper
so that she could feel its shape; then, holding the
pencil in her right hand, she placed the forefinger
of her right hand close up against the lead, so as to
feel how the pencil was moving. It was rather


slow writing, but all the trouble it cost her to learn
it was forgotten when she sent her first letter to
her mother. You may be sure that all the village
saw that wonderful letter, and not a few of the wise
heads were rather doubtful whether Laura really
had written the letter, after all.
Before going on with the story let me tell you of
her mother's first visit to the institution. Laura
had been away from home for six months, and
doubtless had been wondering in her own mute way
whether she should ever go home again. She did
not know enough language to ask about it. Dr.
Howe tells how the mother stood gazing, with tears
in her eyes, at the unfortunate child, who was play-
ing about the room and knew nothing of her pres-
ence. Presently Laura ran against her and began
feeling her hands and dress to find out who she was;
but soon turned away from her poor mother as from
a stranger. Her mother then gave Laura a string
of beads which Laura had worn at home. She rec-
ognized the beads and joyfully put them around her
neck. Her mother nov\ tried to caress her, but
Laura preferred to play. Another article from
home was given her and she was much interested.
She examined the stranger more closely; she be-
came very much excited and quite pale; suddenly
it seemed to flash upon her that this was her mother.
She cared nothing for beads or playmates, now !
Nothing could tear her away from her mother's side.
But, when the time for parting came, Laura bore
it like a little heroine. She went with her mother
to the door and, after embracing her fervently,
took her mother's hand in one of her own and
grasped the hand of the matron with the other.
Then she sadly dropped her mother's hand and,
weeping, walked back into the house.
The language Laura used at first, and, indeed,
what she always used, was somewhat different from
that you and I talk, as is only natural in one whose
language has not been learned by talking. Her lan-
guage is more like written or book language.
Here are a few of her early sayings and doings.
When she wanted bread she said, Bread give
Laura." She once asked why t-a-c would not spell
"cat" as well as c-a-t. That may seem silly to
you, because you have heard it pronounced; but for
her.the letters were but three signs, and she could
not see why one way of making them should not be
as good as another. When she was taught what
" right" and left meant, she correctly described
her hands, ears, and eyes, as being right or left,
but stopped in surprise when she came to her
nose and did n't know which to call it. When her
lessons were rather long she said, My think is
tired." She soon began to make words as children
do. She knew what alone meant and wished to
say that she desired company, so she said, Laura


750






THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.


go al-two." After giving her the word "bachelor,"
her teacher asked her to tell what it meant; she
remembered old Mr. Tenny and spelled: Tenny
bachelor-- man have no wife and smoke pipe."
She had a funny way of playing a game with her-
self. She would spell a word wrong with one hand,
slap that hand with the other, then spell it right
and laugh at the fun. And once, going over a
box of ribbons that belonged to her teacher, she
was tempted to take some, but she gravely knocked
herself on the elbow, which was her own way of say-
ing wrong," and put them away. When shewas
quite alone, she sometimes talked to herself, and
the little fingers spelled out the words as though
they were proud of what they could do. Even in
her sleep she has been seen to make the signs indis-
tinctly with one hand and feel them with the other,
as though mumbling something in her dreams.
At one time it was noticed that she was already
up and dressing when they came to call her in the
morning. When asked how she knew when to get
up (for she had no means of knowing the time),
she said she put her finger in the key-hole and, if
she felt the shaking, then she knew the girls were
moving about and it was time to rise. That was
certainly very bright. She once brought her doll
to school, and moved its fingers to spell out words
and said, with delight, Doll can talk with fingers;
I taught doll to talk with fingers."
When Charles Dickens visited her, in 1842, he
wrote some pages about her in his "American
Notes," in which he mentions that Laura wore a
green silk band over her eyes and, on picking up
her doll, he noticed that a tiny bandwas tied across
the doll's eyes too. The little girl wished the doll
to live in her small world, where people could n't
use their eyes and had to talk with their fingers.
But it would be impossible to tell all there is to
tell: how she learned arithmetic, and geography,
and history, and much else; in short how a silent,
sightless child, with power to make only a few signs,
grew up into a well-educated, bright, pleasant,
happy woman. You will find much of the story
in a book about Laura Bridgman, written by one
of her teachers, Mrs. Lamson.
I can only tell you in a few words how her life
has been passed. Through the kindness of Mr.
George Combe, of Scotland, and others, itwasmade
possible to give her a teacher all to herself. With-
out one, she could not have been cared for as she
deserved. Her teachers kept a.journal in which
they put down the story of Laura's progress, and
you can read it in Mrs. Lamson's book.
She received all her education at the Perkins
Institute for the Blind, and has always been there
except when spending the vacations at home. She
had many friends, and, through the reports that


Dr. Howe wrote for many years of her progress,
had become known to people all over the world.
Many ladies learned the finger alphabet simply to
be able to talk with her, and she wrote and re-
ceived many letters. Her room had a window
facing south, and she often headed her letters
" Sunny Home." She took pleasure in arranging
her room and read a great deal. You know that
quite a number of books have been printed in
raised letters for the blind. The letters must be
large and are printed on one side of the page only.
It takes sixteen large volumes to print the Bible in
this way. Most blind persons cultivate one finger
for reading until it is very sensitive and can feel
the letters very rapidly, but, of course, not so
rapidly as we can read with our eyes.
Miss Bridgman became quite an author, too.
Almost from the time she learned to write, she be-
gan to keep dailyjournals. Those she wrote dur-
ing her first five years in Boston form quite a large
pack, and are full of many interesting things. She
recorded all her little daily doings, and in going
through them from the earliest to the latest en-
tries, you can see how she gradually used more and
more words, and began to use capitals, and wrote
more clearly. She had also written a few poems.
These have no rhyme, of course, because that de-
pends on the sound. What she says in her poems
is in great part taken or imitated from the Bible.
Her spare time was devoted to knitting, sewing,
crocheting lace and mats, and talking. I have a
very pretty crocheted mat which she made in one
evening. Though her life was a peaceful and happy
one, it had also its severe trials. Several of her
teachers, to whom she was much attached, died;
her closest tie with the world was always her con-
stant teacher and companion, who was eyes, ears,
and tongue for her. Her teachers naturally learned
to sympathize with her condition more than others
could, and the loss of one of these dear friends was
a great affliction. She even had to endure the loss
of her benefactor, Dr. Howe. He had lived to see
her grow up into what he had hoped she might be-
come when he took her from her home in Hanover.
His death occurred in 1876, and affected Miss
Bridgman so seriously that she was very ill and
weak for a long time afterward.
So she lived her quiet life, so the days grew into
months, and the months into years and so, also,
quietly and peacefully she passed away, on the 24th
of May, 1889.
Laura Bridgman's days of darkness are over.
Many persons will, for a long time to come, think of
her, and will often speak of the patience she showed
in her affliction and the earnestness with which she
labored to make the most of her life.
She was cared for to the last by the loving friends


1889.]






752 THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.
who had made a happy existence possible to one so to her the sense of human love and sympathy, and
grievously helpless. Into her dark and silent even made her a sharer in the world's treasure of
world the wisdom of man found a way; it brought learning and imagination.


THE STORY


OF THE FLOWER;


BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD.


A SPOTLESS thing enough, they said,
The drift, perchance, from foreign lands,-
Washed in atop of mighty tides
And lightly left along the sands.

Was it the treasure of some shell?
Some islander's forgotten bead?
A wave-worn polyp from the reef?.
The gardener said, It is a seed."

". Bury it," said he, in the soil.
The earth will quicken here, as there,
With vital force; so fair the seed,
The blossom must be wondrous fair I"

Ah, woe, to lose the ample breath
Of.the salt wastes! To see no more
The sacrifice of morning burn
And blot the stars from shore to shore.

Ah, woe, to go into the dark!
Was it for this, the buoyant slide
Up the steep surge, the flight of foam,
The great propulsion of the tide ?

To lose the half-developed dream
Of unknown powers, the bursting throe
Of destinies to be fulfilled,
And go into the dark- ah, woe !

But.the mold closed above the seed
Relentlessly; and still.as well
All life went on; the warm winds blew;
The strong suns shone; the:soft rainsfell.


Whether he slept, or waited there
Unconscious, after that wild pang,-
Who knows? There came to him at last
A sense as if some sweet voice sang;

As if, throughout the universe,
Each atom were obeying law
In rhythmic order. In his heart
He felt the same deep music draw.

And one sharp thrill of tingling warmth
Divided him; as if the earth
Throbbed through him all her stellar might
With the swift pulse of some new birth.

Up the long spirals of his stems
What currents coming from afar,
What blessedness of being glows,-
Was he a blossom or a star ?

Wings like their own the great moths thought
His pinions rippling on the breeze,-
Did ever a king's banner stream
With such resplendent stains as these?

Over what honey and what dew
His fragrant gossamers uncurled I
Forgotten be that seed's poor day, -
Free, and a part of this high world I

A world of winds, and showers aslant,
With gauzy rainbows everywhere,
Cradled in silken sunshine, rocked
In skies full of delicious air I


Ah, happy world, where all things live
Creatures of one great law, indeed;
Bound by strong-roots, the splendid flower,-
Swept by great seas, the drifting seed !











CAPTAIN DUCK.


BY JOAQUIN MILLER.


TIM FORGOT THAT HE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP ON THE WARM FLAT ROCK THAT COOL AUTUMN DAY."


CAPTAIN DUCK was a Modoc Indian, with the
shortest possible legs. His legs were so short that
when he walked he waddled along like a very fat
duck. And that is why he was called Captain Duck
at the stage station, which was at the foot of the
great white mountain in the heart of the Modoc
country, Mount Shasta. Some said his legs had
been shot off in a battle. And then some said his
VOL. XVI.-48.


legs had been eaten off by a bear. But I do not
very well see how that could be; for his feet were
there, all right. And very big feet they were, too;
wide and big and flat like ducks' feet. So I think
he must have been born that way.
Poor Captain Duck could not hunt very well,
or go on the war-path with the other Indians, and
so he came to the stage station, to hire out, with






CAPTAIN DUCK.


the few rough men who kept the old log fort and
took care of the stage horses there.
These men did not like the old Indian, but as
they were a lazy set, they were glad to have him
at the fort to rub down and water the stage horses
when the sun was hot or there was frost in the air.
But they made all sorts of sport of the poor Indian.
And, indeed, they laughed at him so much, and
made so much fun of his short legs and big feet,
that he often wished he was dead. For he was
very sad and sensitive.
One day, Big Dan the stage driver left at the
station a little boy whose father had died; for the
boy had no money to pay fare further. The
rough, lazy men there put him to work with the
Indian, and they named him Limber Tini,"
because he was so slim and limber. And then
they did not know his name. But I suppose that
would have made no difference, anyway; for, in
the mountains of California, they name folks just
what they please. And if a boy looks as- if his
name ought to be "Limber Tim," or Timber
Slim," or anything of that sort, why that must
be his name and he can't help it.
The little orphan boy was sent out every day
with the short-legged Indian, up on the side of the
mountain, to herd the stage horses and keep guard
over them. He had a belt, and a pistol in it, and
a bowie-knife; and also a gun to carry on his
shoulder.
Pretty soon he came to like this very much and
began to grow like a weed and get fat. He and
the Indian were the best friends in the world. But
the men of the station, somehow, were harder and
harsher than ever.
But Captain Duck and the boy did not mind it
so very much now, for each had a friend,- a friend
in the other.
They would buckle on their pistols as soon as it
was daylight and they had had a little breakfast
of crackers and broiled bear-meat or venison, and,
each mounting a horse and driving the others, they
would go up on the imountain-side, and there, by a
little grove of thick wood, they would stop and
let them graze all day. Sometimes Limber Tim
would go to sleep on a warm flat rock, while he
was supposed to stand guard and look away to the
right and to the left for Indians on the war-path.
But Captain Duck would never betray him.
Every time that Big Dan the stage driver came
by, he would make all sort of fun of Captain Duck,
as he hobbled about and hitched up the four stage
horses, while the driver sat high up in the box and
snapped his long whip.
The Indian did not like Big Dan, and Big Dan
did not like the Indian. Dan said the Indian was
a spy, and told the men at the stage station that


some night Captain Duck would set fire to the
place and run away by the light of the blaze.
One ~hot day, as he sat on the box with the four
lines in his hand all ready to start off at a gallop
down the great mountain, he told the Indian, with
an oath, to waddle in on his duck legs and get
him a drink.
The Indian did not move. Then Dan struck
him with his whip. The men standing around
rpared with laughter. Still the sad-faced cripple
did not move. Then Dan struck him another cut,
across .the face.
The Indian's brow grew dark and terrible, but
he did not stir. Some one else brought the drink,
and then, the driver snapping his whip, the stage
dashed away down the mountain and left the In-
dian standing there, with the boy tenderly wiping
his friend's bleeding face and speaking kind and
pitiful words to him. The two friends went up on
the mountain-side by the little pine grove, and
watched the horses as before, and the Indian never
spoke at all of what had happened.
A month or two went by, and everybody forgot
about the trouble between Big Dan and, the sad-
faced savage. Everybody, did I say? -
One day:the stage came thundering in with Big
Dan the driver leaning forward helpless on the-
'box. There had been. a shot fired from the thick
wood back upon the mountain-side. Theman was
dying, and the four reiis were slipping through
his helpless hands;
Who could have fired that shot? When the
stage driver was dead and buried, some of the men
took Limber Tim aside and asked him whether
he had been all the time with Captain Duck the
day the shot was fired.
"All the time, every minute, every second,"
answered the lad, earnestly. For he had no sus-
picion at all that Captain Dick had shot the stage
driver. Indeed, the boy believed what he said, and
would have maintained it at any hazard. He for-
got that he had fallen asleep on the warm flat
rock that cool autumn day.
The next summer, signal-fires were seen one
night on the mountain-tops. The men at;the stage
station hastened to fasten the old log fort. For
this, they knew, meant war. The Modocs were
on the war-path.
The men made their guns ready, and gave Lim-
ber Tim an extra pistol to put in his belt, so that
he might fight with all his might and help save
their lives. But when they came to look for Cap-
tain Duck, next morning, he was gone. He had
joined the Indians.
Then the men at the stage station were very
much afraid; for they had been very cruel, not
only to the cripple but to all the Indians, and they


I [AUG.






1889.] CAPTAIN

knew that if they fell into their enemies' hands they
had no right to expect any mercy at all.
The next night the Indians set the woods on
fire, and all the land was dark with smoke. The
great pine-trees were falling across the road, and
no soldiers, nor anybody, could come to help the









































"THEY HURRIED THE BOY THROUGH THE GREAT WOODEN
RAMROD AND HELD IT HIGH OVER
men shut up in the little log fort, and surrounded
by the blazing forests.
The men looked one another in the face as the
air grew dark and dense from the smoke, and shook
their heads sadly--for they believed their time to
die had come.
About ten o'clock one morning, the Indians ap-
peared behind the stables and began to fire on the
fort. They took the horses out, mounted them,
and then set fire to the stables.


r


And now there was little hope, for the flames white flag.
would spread to the fort, and then all must perish. By and by, the boy with the white flag on the


DUCK. 755

The smoke was so dark and thick that the men
were almost choked. They could not see to shoot
the Indians, for it was like night.
What can we do ?" cried the men shut up in
the fort, and hiding their eyes from the smoke.
"'The Indians will not come near enough for us to









































GATE OF THE FORT, AS HE TIED A WHITE TOWEL ON A
HIS HEAD IN THE THICK SMOKE."
see them and fight. If we go out to find them we
shall be shot down from behind the rocks and trees,
and not one of us will live to tell the tale."
Let me go out !" said little Limber Tim. If
I can find Captain Duck, I will save you all."
They hurried the boy through the great wooden
gate of the fort, as he tied a white towel on a ram-
rod and held it high over his head in the thick
smoke. Then the men bolted the great gate and
left the brave little fellow to do his best with his






CAPTAIN DUCK.


ramrod came pounding at the gate, and the men
gathered around wild and eager as they opened it.
"What luck? What hope?"
Well, if you will all leave your guns and go out
one at a time down the stage road and never come
back here any more, you can go."
Never come back here any more ? cried one
man, as he jumped toward the gate; "catch me
coming' back here any more, if I ever get out of
this!" and he leaped out through that gate like
a newly sheared sheep leaping over the bars.
Then another followed and another, all feeling
very much ashamed of the way they had treated
the boy. But somehow they did not have the
manhood to hold up their heads and say so.
When the men had gone, glad to go and never
thinking of looking back or ever returning to the
Modoc country, Captain Duck came hobbling in.
The Indians helped Tim to put out the fire and
then went away, taking all the stage horses and
guns and blankets with them. So when the sol-
diers came, three days after, they found only these
two in charge of the fort,--little Limber Tim and
Captain Duck.
The government left some soldiers there after


that, and Limber Tim was made station-master by
the stage company "
He was the youngest station-master, I suppose,
that ever was on the border.
When I passed by there, last year, on a visit to
my parents in Oregon, I saw him once more. But
he is a man now. He has long hair, a small, black
mustache, and wears two pistols in his belt; for
the frontier ways prevail in that country still.
As for poor Captain Duck, he is shorter in the
legs than ever, I think. His face is deeply
wrinkled now, and his long black hair has turned
as white as are the shining snows of mighty Mount
Shasta when seen against the cold, blue sky above.
He never speaks to any one. But he loves Lim-
ber Tim with all his heart, and never is long
away from his side nor out of his sight if he
can help it.
Captain Duck was sitting in the chimney-corner
by the great log fire, smoking his pipe, when I
saw him last. He was looking straight into the
fire,-thinking, thinking. And what was he
thinking about? Maybe he was thinking about
the dead stage driver who had struck him with a
whip. It may be so. It may be so.


AN INVITATION.


"OH, come, Mr. Lobster, and bring Mr. Crab,
We 've brought you a beautiful dye.
: It will change both those dull unaesthetic cos-
tumes
To a hue that will charm every eye !"


"Very kind, we are sure 1 said the Lobster and
Crab,
"But we don't care to die,-it's our loss:
We'd rather be dressed in our every-day clothes
Than in scarlet, with Mayonnaise sauce I "












THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


BY MARY E. WILKINS.


ND you must spin faster, Dorothy, or
you '11 go to bed without your supper,"
said Dame Betsy.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Dorothy. Then she
twirled the wheel so fast, that the spokes were a
blur.
Dorothy was a pretty little girl. She had a small
pink and white face; her hair was closely cropped
and looked like a little golden cap, and her eyes
were as blue as had been the flowers of the flax
which she was spinning. She wore an indigo-blue
frock, and she looked very short and slight beside
the wheel.
Dorothy spun, Dame Betsy tended a stew-kettle
that was hanging from the crane in the fireplace,
and the eldest of Dame Betsy's six daughters sat
on the bench beside the cottage door and ate
honey-cakes. The other daughters had arrayed
themselves in their best tuckers and plumed hats
and farthingales, spread their ruffled parasols, and
gone to walk.
Dame Betsy had wished the oldest daughter to
go with her sisters; but she was rather indolent, so
she dressed herself in her best, and sat down on the
bench beside the door, with a plate of honey-cakes
of which she was- very fond. She held up her
parasol, to shield her face, and also to display the
parasol. It was covered with very bright green
satin and had a wreath of pink roses for a border.
The sun shone directly into the cottage, and the
row of pewter plates on the dresser glittered; one
could see them through the doorway. The front
yard of Dame Betsy's cottage was like a little grove
with lemon-color and pink hollyhocks; one had to
look directly up the path to see the eldest daughter,
sitting on the bench, eating honey-cakes. .She.was
a very homely girl. All Dame Betsy's daughters
were so plain and ill-tempered that they had no
suitors, although they walked abroad every day.


Dame Betsy placed her whole dependence upon
the linen chests, when she planned to marry her
daughters. At the right of her cottage stretched
a great field of flax, that looked now like a blue sea,
and it rippled like a sea when -the wind struck it.
Dame Betsy and Dorothy made the flax into linen
for the daughters' dowries. They had already two
great chests of linen apiece, and they were to have
chests filled until there were enough to attract suit-
ors. Every little while, Dame Betsy invited all the
neighboring housewives to tea; then she opened
the chests and unrolled the shining lengths of linen,
perfumed with lavender and rosemary. "My dear
daughters will have all this, and more also, when
they marry," she would remark. The housewives
would go home and mention it to their sons, for they
themselves were tempted by the beautiful linen, but
there it would end. The sons would not go to woo
Dame Betsy's homely, ill-natured daughters.
Dorothy spun as fast as she was able; Dame
Betsy kept a sharp watch upon her, as she stirred
the stew. Dorothy wanted some of the stew for
her supper. It had a delicious odor, and she was
very faint and hungry. She did not have a great
deal to eat at any time, as she lived principally upon.
the scraps from the table, and the daughters were
all large eaters. She also worked very hard, and
never had any time to play. She was a poor child
whom Dame Betsy had taken from the almshouse,
and she had no relatives but an old grandmother.
She had very few kind words said to her during the
day, and she used often to cry herself to sleep at
night.
Presently Dame Betsy went down to the store to
buy some pepper to put in the stew, but, as she went
out of the door, she spoke to the eldest daughter,
and told her to go into the house and mend a rent
in her apron. Since you were too lazy to go to
walk with your sisters you must go into the house
and mend your apron," said she. The eldest
daughter pouted, but she made no reply. Just as
soon as her mother was out of hearing she called
Dorothy. Dorothy, come here a minute she
cried imperatively. Dorothy left her wheel and
went to the door. Look here," said the eldest
daughter, I have one honey-cake left, and I have
eaten all I want. I will give you this, if you will
mend my apron for me."





THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


Dorothy eyed the honey-cake wistfully, but she
replied that she did not dare to leave her spinning
to mend the apron.
Why can't you mend it in the night?" asked
the eldest daughter.
"I will do that," replied Dorothy eagerly, and
she held out her hand for the honey-cake. Just as
she did so she saw the little boy that lived next
door peeping through his fence. His beautiful little
face, with his red cheeks and black eyes, looked,
through the pickets, like a damask-rose. Dorothy
ran swiftly over to him with her honey-cake. "You
shall have half of it," said she, and she quickly
broke the cake in halves, and gave one of them to
the little boy. Ile lived with his old grandmother,
and they were very poor; it was hard for them to
get the coarsest porridge to eat. The little boy
often stood looking through the fence and smiling
at Dorothy, and the old grandmother spoke kindly
to her whenever she had an opportunity. -
The little boy stood on one side of the fence
and Dorothy on the other, and they ate the honey-
cake. Then Dorothy ran back to the house and
fell to spinning again. She spun so fast, to make
up for the lost time, that one could not see the
wheel-spokes at all, and the room hummed like a
hive of bees. But, fast as she spun, Dame Betsy,
when she returned, discovered that she had been
idling, and said that she must go without her sup-
per. Poor Dorothy could not help weeping as she
twirled the wheel, she was so hungry, and the
honey-cake had been very small.
Dame Betsy dished up the stew and put the
'spoons and bowls on the table, and soon the five
absent daughterscame home, rustling theirflounces
and flirting their parasols.
They all sat down to the table and began to eat,
while Dorothy stood at her wheel and sadly spun.
They had eaten all the stew except a little, just
about enough for a cat, when a little shadow fell
across the floor.
Why, who's coming ? whispered Dame Betsy,
and directly all the daughters began to smooth their
front hair; each thought it might be a suitor.
But everything that they could see entering the
door was a beautiful gray cat. She came stepping
Across the floor with a dainty, velvet tread. She
had a tail like a plume, and she trailed it on the
floor as she walked; her fur was very soft and long,
and caught the light like silver; she had delicate
tufted ears, and her shining eyes were like yellow
jewels.
It 's nothing but a cat! cried the daughters
in disgust, and Dame Betsy arose to get the broom;
she hated cats. That decided the daughters; they
also hated cats, but they liked to oppose their
mother. So they insisted on keeping the cat.


There was much wrangling, but the daughters
were too much for Dame Betsy; the beautiful cat
was allowed to remain on the hearth, and the rem-
nant of the stew was set down there for her. But,
to every one's amazement, she refused to touch it.
She sat purring, with her little silvery paws folded,
her plumy tail swept gracefully around her, and
quite ignored the stew.
I will take it up and give it to the pig," said
Dame Betsy.
No, no cried the daughters; leave it, and
perhaps she will eat it by and by."
So the stew was left upon the hearth. In the
excitement, Dorothy had stopped spinning, and
nobody had observed it. Suddenly, Dame Betsy
noticed that the wheel was silent.
"Why are you not spinning, miss? she asked
sharply. "Are you stopping work to look at a
cat?"
But Dorothy made no reply; she paid no atten-
tion whatever: she continued to stare at the cat;
she was quite pale, and her blue eyes were very
large. And no wonder, for she saw, instead of a
cat, a beautiful little princess, with eyes like stars,
in a trailing robe of gray velvet covered with silver
embroidery, and instead of a purr she heard a
softly hummed song. Dame Betsy seized Dorothy
by the arm.
"To your work!" she cried.
And Dorothy began to spin, but she was trem-
bling from head to foot, and every now and then
she glanced at the princess on the hearth.
The daughters, in their best gowns, sat- with
their mother around the hearth until nine o'clock;
then Dorothy was ordered to leave her wheel, the
cottage was locked up, and everybody went to bed.
Dorothy's bed was a little bundle of straw, up in
the garret under the eaves. She was very tired
when she lay down, but did not dare to sleep, for
she remembered her promise to mend the eldest
daughter's apron. So she waited until the house
was still, then she arose and crept softly downstairs.
The fire on the hearth was still burning, and
there sat the princess, and the sweet hum of her
singing filled the room. But Dorothy could not
understand a word of the song, because it was in
the Persian language. She stood in the doorway
and trembled; she did not know what to do. It
seemed to her that she must be losing her wits to
see a princess, where every one else saw a cat.
Still she could not doubt the evidence of her own
eyes. Finally, she advanced a little way and
curtsied very low. The princess stopped singing
at once. She arose in a stately .fashion, and
fastened her bright eyes upon Dorothy.
So you know me ?" said she.
Dorothy curtsied again.






THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


Are you positive that I am not a cat ?"
Dorothy curtsied.
"Well, I. am not a cat," said the princess. "I
am a true princess from Persia, traveling incognita.
You are the first person who has pierced my dis-
guise. You must have very extraordinary eyes.
Are n't you hungry ?"
Dorothy curtsied.
Come here and eat the stew," ordered the
princess, in a commanding tone. Meantime I
will cook my own supper."
With that the princess gave a graceful leap
across the floor; her gray velvet robe fluttered like
a gray wing. Dorothy saw a little mouse scud
before her, then in an instant the princess had
him! But the moment the princess lifted the mouse,
he became a gray pigeon, all dressed for cooking.
The princess sat down on the hearth and put
the pigeon on the coals to broil.
"You had better eat your stew," said she; "I
won't offer you any of this pigeon, because you
could not help suspecting it was mouse."
So Dorothy timidly took up the stew, and began
to eat it; she was in reality nearly starved.
Now," said the Persian princess, when she had
finished, "you had better do that mending, while
I finish cooking and eat my own supper."
Dorothy obeyed. By the time the apron was
neatly mended, the princess had finished cooking
and eaten the pigeon. Now, I wish to talk a lit-
tle to you," said she. "I feel as if you deserved my
confidence since you have penetrated my disguise.
I am a Persian princess, as I said before, and I am
traveling incognita to see the world and improve
my mind, and also to rescue my brother, who is a
Maltese prince and enchanted. My brother, when
very young, went on his travels, was shipwrecked
on the coast of Malta, and became a prince of that
island. But he had enemies, and was enchanted.
He is now a Maltese cat. I disguise myself as a
cat in order to find him more readily. Now, for
what do you most wish? "
Dorothy curtsied; she was really too impressed
to speak.
Answer," said the princess imperiously.
"I- want," stammered Dorothy, "to take
my grandmother out of- the almshouse, and have
her sit at the window in the sun in a cushioned
chair and knit a silk stocking all day."
Anything else ?"
I should like to have her wear a bombazine
gown and a white lace cap with lilac ribbons."
"You are a good girl," said the princess,
"Now, listen. I see that you are not very pleas-
antly situated here, and I will teach you a way to
escape. Take your hood off that peg over there.
and come out with me. I want to find my port-


manteau that I left under the hedge, a little way
down the road."
Dorothy put on her hood and followed the prin-
cess down the road. The little girl could scarcely
keep up with her; she seemed to fairly fly through
the moonlight, trailing her gray robe after her.
Here is my portmanteau," said the princess,
when they had reached the hedge. The hedge
was all white hawthorn and very sweet. The port-
manteau had lain well under it. All Dorothy
could see was a tiny leather wallet, that a cat could
carry in her mouth. But the princess blew upon
it three times, and suddenly a great leather trunk
stood on the grass. The princess opened it, and
Dorothy gave a little cry; her eyes were so daz-
zled. It was like a blaze of gold and silver and
jewels. "Look at this," said the princess. And
she took out of the trunk the splendid robe that
was laid uppermost.
Dorothy looked; she could not say anything.
The robe was woven of silk, with gold and silver
threads, and embroidered with jewels.
"If you will give this to Dame Betsy for her
eldest daughter's bridal dress, she will let you go,"
said the princess. She took a pair of silver shears
out of the trunk and cut off a bit of the robe under
a flounce. Show that to Dame Betsy," said the
princess, and tell her you will give her the dress
made of the same material, and she will let you go.
Now you had better run home. I shall stay here
and sleep under the hedge. I do not like Dame
Betsy's house. Come here in the morning, when
you have told her about the dress."
The princess sat down on the trunk, and it
immediately shrunk into the little wallet; then
she curled herself up on the grass under the flowery
hedge. Dorothy, ran home and crept noiselessly
up to her bed in the garret.
In the morning, when the daughters came down
to breakfast, they missed the cat. "Where is the
cat?" they inquired indignantly of their mother.
They suspected her of driving the cat away with
the-broom. They had quite a wrangle over it.
Finally, the daughters all put on finery and went out
shopping for some needles and pins; then Dorothy
showed Dame Betsy the scrap of the splendid robe,
and said to her what the princess had directed she
should say.
Dame Betsy was very much surprised and dis-
turbed. She did not wish to lose Dorothy, who
was a great help to her; still, she had no doubt
that a suitor would soon appear for her eldest
daughter, if arrayed in so beautiful a bridal gown
as that. She reflected how she might have a tea-
party and invite all the neighbors, and display
the robe, and how all the sons would come flock-
ing to the door. Finally she consented, and


759


1889.]






THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


Dorothy, as soon as her mistress's back was turned,
ran out and away to the hedge, under which she
knew the Persian princess to be concealed.
The princess looked up and rubbed her eyes.
She had slept late, although the birds were sing-
ing loudly all around her. Dorothy curtsied and
said that she had come for the robe. "Very well,"
replied the princess, I will give it to you; then
you must carry it and hang it over Dame Betsy's
gate, and run back to me as fast as you are able."
Then the princess blew on the wallet until it
became a trunk, and she took out the splendid
robe and gave it to Dorothy, who carried it and
hung it over Dame Betsy's gate just as she had
been bidden. But as she was about to run away,
she saw the little boy who lived next door, peeping
through his fence, so she stopped to bid him good-


bye. He felt so sad that he wept, and Dorothy
herself had tears in her eyes when she ran to join
the princess.
Dorothy and the princess then set off on their
travels; but nobody except Dorothy herself knew
that there was a princess. Every one who met
them saw simply a little girl and a beautiful gray
cat. Finally they stopped at a pretty little village.
"Here," said the princess," we will rent a
cottage."
They looked about until they found a charming
cottage with a grapevine over the door, and roses
and marigolds in the yard; then Dorothy, at the
princess's direction, went to the landlord and bar-
gained for it.
Then they went to live in the cottage, and the
princess taught Dorothy how to make lovely tidies


and cushions and aprons out of the beautiful
dresses in her trunk. She had a great store of
them, but they were all made in the Persian
fashion and were of no use in this country.
When Dorothy had made the pretty articles out
of the rich dresses, she went out and sold them to
wealthy ladies for high prices. She soon earned
quite a sum of money, which she placed at interest
in the bank, and she was then able to take her
grandmother out of the almshouse. She bought
a beautiful chair with a canary-colored velvet
cushion, and she placed it at the window in the
sun. She bought a bombazine dress and a white
cap with lilac ribbons, and she had the silk stock-
ing with the needles all ready.
But the day before the old grandmother came
the princess bade Dorothy good-bye. "I am


going out again on my travels," said she; "I wish
to see more of the country, and I must continue
my search for my brother, the Maltese prince.
So the princess kissed Dorothy, who wept; then
she set forth on her travels. Dorothy gazed sor-
rowfully after her as she went. She saw a-dainty
little princess, trailing her gray velvets; but every-
body else saw only a lovely gray cat hurrying
down the road.
Dorothy's grandmother came to live with her.
She sat in her cushioned chair, in the sunny win-
dow, and knitted her silk stocking, and was a very
happy old woman. Dorothy continued to make
beautiful things out of the princess's dresses. It
seemed as if there would never be any end to them.
She had cut up many dresses, but there were ap-
parently as many now as when she began. She






THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


saw no more of the princess, although she thought
of her daily, until she was quite grown up and was
a beautiful maiden with many suitors. Then, one
day, she went to the city to deliver a beautiful
cushion that she had made for some wealthy ladies,
and there, in the drawing-room, she saw the Per-
sian princess.
Dorothy was left in the room until the ladies
came down, and as she sat there holding her cush-
ion, she heard a little velvet rustle and a softly
hummed song in the Persian language. She
looked, and there was the princess stepping across
the floor, trailing her gray velvets.
So you have come, dear Dorothy," said the
princess.
Dorothy arose and curtsied, but the princess
came close and kissed her. "What have you
there ?" she inquired.
Dorothy displayed the cushion; the princess
laughed.
It is quite a joke, is it not ? said she. That
cushion is for me to sleep on, and it is made.out
of one of my own dresses. The ladies have bought
it for me. I have heard them talking about it.
How do you fare, Dorothy, and how is your
grandmother ?"
Then Dorothy told the princess how the grand-
mother sat in the cushioned chair in the sunny
window and knitted the silk stocking, and how she
herself was to be married the next week to the
little boy who had lived next door, but was now
grown up and come a-wooing.
"Where is his grandmother?" asked the
princess.
Dorothy replied that she was to live with them,
and that there was already another cushioned chair
in a sunny window, another bombazine dress and
lace cap, and a silk stocking, in readiness, and that
both grandmothers were to sit and knit in peace
during the rest of their lives.
"Ah, well," said the princess, with a sigh, "if
I were only back in Persia I would buy you a wed-
ding present, but I do not know when that will
be,- the ladies are so kind."
Dorothy ventured to inquire if the princess had
found her brother, the Maltese prince.
"Dear me, yes," replied the princess. "Why,
he lives in this very house. He is out in the back
parlor, asleep on the sofa, this minute. Brother,
dear brother, come here a second, I pray I "
With that a Maltese prince, with a long, aristo-
cratic face, andbeautiful, serious eyes, entered with
a slow and stately tread. He was dressed in gray
velvet, like his sister, and he wore white velvet
mittens. Dorothy curtsied very low.
"Yes, I found my brother here, some time ago,"
said the princess; but I have very little hope of


freeing him from his enchantment. You see,
there is only one thing that can break the spell:
one of his mistresses must drive him out of the
house with the broom, and I do not believe that
either of them ever will,- they are so exceedingly
gracious and kind. I have tried to induce my
brother to commit some little sin,-to steal some
cream, or some meat, or to fly around the room as
if he were in a fit (I myself have shown him how to
do that), but he will not consent. He has too
much dignity, and he is too fond of these ladies.
And, if he should, I doubt if he would be driven
out with the broom,- they are so kind."
The princess sighed. The prince stood looking
in a grave and stately manner at Dorothy, but he
did not speak. "However," the princess contin-
ued, cheerfully, "we do very well here, and in
some respects this is a more enlightened country
than either Persia or Malta, and it is a privilege
to live here. The ladies are very kind to us, and
we are very fond of them; then, too, we see very
fine company. And there are also Persian hang-
ings and rugs which make it seem homelike. We
are very well contented. I don't know, on the
whole, that we are in any hurry to go away. But
should either of the ladies ever take it into her
head to drive my brother out of the house with the
broom, we shall at once leave the country for Per-
sia and Malta; for, after all, one's native land is
dear."
The princess stopped talking, and began to hum
her Persian song, and then the ladies entered the
room. They greeted Dorothy kindly; then they
began to call, Vashti, Vashti, come here, pretty
Vashti," and, Muff, Muff, come here, pretty
Muff." For they did not see the Persian princess
and the Maltese prince, but two beautiful cats,
whose names were Vashti and Muff.
Just hear Vashti purr," said one of the ladies.
"Come here, pretty Vashti, and try your new
cushion."
And the ladies saw a cat sitting on the rich
cushion, and another cat looking at her gravely,
while Dorothy saw a Persian princess, and a Mal-
tese prince.
However, the ladies knew that there was some-
thing uncommon about their cats, and they some-
times suspected the truth, themselves, but they
thought it must be a fancy.
Dorothy left her cushion, and went away, and
that was the last time she ever saw the Persian
princess. As she went out the door, the princess
pressed close to her. The ladies thought she
mewed, but in reality she was talking.
"Good-bye, Dorothy," said she, "I hope you
will live happily ever after. And as for my brother
and I, we really enjoy ourselves; we are seeing the





THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS.


country and, improving our minds, and we love
the ladies. If one of them should drive him out
with the broom, he will become a prince again,
and we shall leave; but I do not know that it is
desirable. A cat has a more peaceful life than a
prince. Good-bye, dear Dorothy."
The prificess was going closer to embrace Doro-
thy, but the ladies became alarmed; they thought


that their beautiful cat was going to steal out of
the house. So they called, and a maid with a
white cap ran and caught the Persian princess,
and carried her back to the drawing-room. The
ladies thought she mewed, as she was being car-
ried in, but in reality she was calling back merrily,
"Good-bye, and live happily ever after, dear
Dorothy I "


A MUTINY ON A GOLD-SHIP.
(A True Story.)

BY FRANCES STOUGHTON BAILEY.


IT was our last Friday night at Castle Bluff
boarding-school. Most of the girls were gone, and
the few who lived in or around New York, and
were obliged to remain until Saturday morning,
were counting the hours of captivity.
It was a dismal night. The rain beat a cease-
less tattoo upon the piazza roof, while the honey-
suckle scraped an.accompaniment upon the panes;
the wind piped shrilly, and every now and then,
as it shifted, we could hear the roar of the breakers
at Forlorn Hope. We were huddled together,
seven girls, in the study-parlor, grumbling be-
cause the evening train for New York was an
express, and so did not stop at Castle Bluff.
"I would have cut the closing exercises and
taken the two o'clock train if the 'General' would
have let me," said Sarah Priest, frowning.
The General" was our name for our principal,
Mrs. M., whose imposing carriage suggested the title
which Dickens bestows on one of his characters.
"Our sacerdotal friend seems pensive to-night,"
I remarked, mischievously. "What entertain-
ment would your Reverence be pleased to counte-
nance ? I added, turning to Sarah. The poor
girl had to answer to a great many punning varia-
tions of her name. Indeed, we all bore school-
names. Mine was Gaul," given me by the class
in Caesar's Commentaries," as- an improvement
Son "France," otherwise Frances. Minnie Walsh,
the most diminutive girl in school, was Cardiff
Giant," abbreviated to Cardie"; Jennie Shep-
herd was known as Shepherdess or Bopeep ";
Bertha Hein, who was always willing', was
Barkis "; "Lib" Chamberlain, a high-spirited,
independent girl, was called Liberty."
I had been reading aloud from "Our Mutual
Friend," but finding my audience too restless to
-listen, I closed the book and walked to the window.
No use to watch for the steamer to-night, girls,"


I said; you could n't sight the Great Eastern a
boat's-length away."
Oh, how nautical! remarked Jennie. Have
you been taking lessons of Mrs. Jones ?"
Well, I 'm not so sure that it would n't be a
good idea to have a lesson from Mrs. Jones," I
said. "What do you say to one of her 'sailors'
yarns,' as she calls them? "
"Just the thing !" exclaimed Alice.
"Let 's get her to tell us a real live blood-and-
thunder-your-money-or-your-life pirate story."
"Run along and prepare her, Gaul," said Lib,
Alice's chum. "We will follow in a procession."
"Come, girls," cried Alice, "form a line. Choose
partners! 'But as for me,'" seizing her chum,
"'give me Liberty, or give me death !'"
We fouled the matron sitting before a little wood
fire, working a cushion for a fair.
It was almost equal to a voyage around the world
to go into Mrs. Jones's room. On the mantel and
shelves were foreign shells and different kinds of
corals, from the massive brain-coral of the West
Indies to the delicate pink specimens from the
Micronesian Islands, also stuffed birds, bits of ore
from Australia, and Spanish souvenirs. Over a
photograph of Windsor Castle, the Stars and
Stripes mingled their folds with those of the Union
Jack. Above the flags hung a colored lithograph
of H. M. S. Three Jolly Tars," which, although
represented as scudding before a "large" wind,
on a heavy sea, had all her canvas set.
Mrs.. Jones. was fond of young people, and glad
to relax the strict rules of school discipline.
"Is that you, Miss Bailey ?" said she. Come
in, and Miss Priest, too. How many girls are
there. of you ?" she asked, catching sight of the
line in the hall.
We are seven,'" said Alice, as we distributed
ourselves about the room.





A MUTINY ON A GOLD-SHIP.


I wish there were twice as many!" said the
matron, with one of her genial laughs. I sup-
pose you are all glad to be off duty, and done with
that examining board for the term."
"In what country were you born, Mrs. Jones?"
I asked, partly to set the ball rolling and partly to
settle a disputed point.
"In no country," answered the lady. "I'm
the woman 'without a country.'" After enjoying
our perplexity for a while she added, "I was born
on the high seas."
"But of what nationality are you? I persisted.
"I can hardly tell you, my dear," rejoined Mrs.
Jones. Perhaps African, as much as any, for I
was born at sea off the Cape of Good Hope. My
father was an English sea-captain, and he married
my- mother, who was a Spanish lady, in Madrid.
"I lived on board ship the Three Jolly Tars -
until I was fourteen, so you see that picture is a view
of my birthplace and early home. My father was
captain of that vessel for twenty-eight years.
When I was sixteen I was married in England,
and went to housekeeping in Australia. I married
a sea-captain and made many voyages with him,
so that much of my life has been passed on ship-
board. It would really seem more home-like to
me than living on land, if my husband and chil-
dren were alive and could be with me."
But is n't it dreadfully monotonous the same
thing, day after day ?" inquired Jennie.
"Dear, no!" said the matron. "If you are
not a mere passenger, impatient to be at your
journey's end, you can have as much home-life on
shipboard as anywhere. As to monotony, the sea
is the most variable thing in the world, hardly alike
two days in succession."
Did n't you ever meet any nice pirates or have
any mutinies on board, or anything of that sort,
you know? Alice asked persuasively.
Mrs. Jones laughed. Not exactly," she said;
"but we had a bit of a scare on one voyage. Per-
haps you would like to hear about that ?"
We gathered around, and she began:
"My husband was captain of the 'Bonanza,' a
ship running between Melbourne and Liverpool,
some twenty-five years ago. I shall never forget
the first voyage I made with him. Vessels did not
go so fast then as they do now, and I remember
that we were just five months and three days from
Phillips's Dock, Liverpool.
"Our freight was gold-dust for the return trip,
and the worst of it was that we could get a crew
only of convicts. Our own sailors caught the gold-
fever, which was running very high then, and
while the ship was lying at Melbourne ran away to
the gold-fields to prospect for themselves. These
convicts were old sailors who had been transported


for crime, but who had served out their terms and
wished to return to England by working their
passage. David that was my husband's name -
said we could do no better than to take them; and
he had n't the slightest fear that they would make
any trouble: they were too anxious to get back to
England.
"All seemed to go well for a while, but after
we had been out- to sea for some time, it seemed
to my husband as if the Bonanza was a little off
her bearings; so the first bright day he took an
observation. He was shut up for about an hour
making the calculations. When he came out I
saw by his face that something was wrong. He
went aft and spent some time with the helms-
man. He had found that the Bonanza was off her
bearings, sure enough. The man at the wheel
told him that she would n't mind her helm -that
she was water-logged. This got about among the
passengers, and they began to be nervous; so my
husband announced that he would make an exam-
ination, and invited two of the passengers to ac-
company him into the hold. They went down
into the lower hold, where the ballast is stowed,
and found the ship was all right. The captain
sent the boatswain aloft to give out through the
trumpet that the report was false.
After this I could see that David was uneasy,
although I did not then understand why.
"I awoke one night just before seven bells struck.
When I heard the bells, I knew that it was only
half-past three, and was trying to get to sleep
again, when my ears, which are exceptionally
quick, caught a peculiar scraping sound under the
berth. There would not seem to be anything
alarming about this, for most ships are full of rats,
but the fact was, that the gold tank was built into
the ship just under the captain's berth, the only
entrance being by a trap-door. If this scraping
came from the tank, it could not be rats, for no rat
who had any respect for his teeth would be likely
to experiment on the zinc lining. A few nights
afterward I heard the noise again, and felt sure it
was some sharp instrument working on a metallic
surface. I awakened David, but he could not hear
i anything, and said that it must be my imagination..
Soon after this, I noticed that a curious change
i had come over Arnie, our cabin-boy. His whole
name was Arnold McIntyre. He was really very
young for the place, but I had been pleased with
his appearance and induced my husband to take
him. This was the boy's first trip. His father
had been a prosperous squatter in Australia, a
Scotchman by birth, and a fine man.
One night the father was awakened by the bark-
ing of the dogs, and on going to the door found
a gang of bushrangers surrounding the house.


763






764


A MUTINY ON A GOLD-SHIP.


They evidently knew that he had been selling cattle we spoke suddenly to him; but during breakfast
that day and had brought home a large sum of I often noticed that he was gazing at us with an
money. It is not likely that they intended to harm indescribable expression. I have seen something
him, for it was only the money that they were like it in the face of a dumb animal when it
is trying in vain to make
itself understood by a
human being.
I was sitting on deck
with my work, one pleas-
ant morning soon after,
when, happening to need
a book which was below,
I sent Arnie down to get
it. When he handed it
to me there was a folded
slip of paper between the
leaves; a single word was
scrawled upon it--the
word 'Mutiny.'
"That day, when we
had finished our dinner,
the captain rose in his
place and made a short
speech. He said some-
thing like this:
Ladies and gentle-
men, I wish to have a
few straight words with
T you. I do not wish to
cause alarm, and hope
after, but he showed fight there is no occasion for
and knocked two of them I any, but I think it best
down. 0 that there should be a
Well, the end of it was fair understanding be-
that the poor Scotchman got EP tween us, as to how
a bullet through his head, and matters stand. I have
the bushrangers rode away reason to believe that all
with everything valuable. I- is not right on board,-
Mrs. McIntyre was never the that there is mischief
same again. She lost her brewing among the crew.
wits, let the baby fall on its If I can have the support
head (in consequence of of the passengers, I feel
which it died not long after- V sure that I can manage
ward), and she took no notice the men. There must be
of Arnie. He was a bright, no panic among you. It
clever lad, and it seemed a is absolutely necessary
pity that he should go to that all be calm, watch-
destruction, so we took care ,, ful, and self-controlled.
of him. He was very fond "MY EARS CAUGHT A PECULIAR SCRAPING SOUND. I believe that you will
of us, and I took great pleasure in teaching him, be. I think I can trust you and shall expect you
for he was very grateful and a quick scholar. to sustain me. We will look this danger in the
All at once, as I said, a great change seemed to face, and we shall see whether a dozen true Eng-
have come over him. He came into the cabin lishmen can be cowed by a gang of convicts '
one morning as white as a piece of canvas, and I The speech had the effect my husband desired.
noticed that his arm shook so that he had to carry The passengers felt that he trusted to their honor
the captain's coffee-cup with both hands. He de- and courage, and the gentlemen all promised to
cared he was well, and seemed to be startled when be ready to stand by him in any emergency. The






A MUTINY ON A GOLD-SHIP.


captain had all hands piped on deck, and we fol- world has not been the better for y6ur living in it,
lowed. The crew were a hard-looking set of fel- but I have treated you as if you had been the most
lows, most of them, with rough, unshaven, scarred honorable men in England. You have had a
faces, and they glowered at the captain, from under chance to show that there was something of true
their heavy eyebrows, like wild beasts, manhood left in you, yet. Now, how have you
My husband was not much of an orator, but returned this? I will tell you! You mean mis-
when a man's blood is up he can talk, if he ever chief! I understand this as well as you do. Your


"IF ANY MAN CROSSES THE SECOND LINE, I 'LL SHOOT HIM DEAD."


can; and I assure you he laid down the law to
those men in words they could understand.
"' There is not a man of you,' he said, 'who
dares look me in the eye and say that he has re-
ceived anything but fair play from me, or from
the subordinate officers, since he shipped on the
Bonanza. Your past lives have not been such as
would lead a man to put confidence in you. The


plot is known to me, and the time has come for
you to give an account of it. You will find that
I am not a man to be trifled with. I am master
of this ship, and I intend to remain so. The
Bonanza is freighted with gold-dust, and I shall
defend her with my life! I command you all, as
true British sailors, to bring forward your arms and
lay them on the capstan!'






A MUTINY ON A GOLD-SHIP.


You may not know that it is against the ship-
pinig -tticles for sailors to carry arms; one of the
first questions asked when a man ships before the
mast is, Have you any weapons ? '
"There was silence among the men when the
captain ceased. We could hear the soft flapping of
the sails overhead, and the occasional scraping of
a heel, as some one eased his muscles by shifting his
weight from one foot to the other. I was standing
by the main-shrouds and remember counting the
ratlins over and over, to help keep my self-control.
It seemed a brief lifetime to me, but I suppose it
was hardly thirty seconds before four men came
forward and laid down horse-pistols. Not another
man stirred. I saw my husband's face redden and
his eyes flash angrily.
Is no one else true ?' he shouted.
"I began to tremble lest he should lose his self-
control.
"He called for some chalk. Chalk is always kept
on board for. whitening spots when a ship comes
into port. He stooped doWn and began to draw
two lines across the deck in front of him. Sud-
denly there was a sharp click. My husband had-
drawn a pistol and cocked it! An instant after he
rose to his feet and cr;.d in a voice like thunder,
'You may walk up to that first line and lay down
your arms, but if any man crosses the second line,
I '11 shoot him deadly '
"I closed my eyes,-but when I looked again I
could hardly see the top of the capstan for the
bowie-knives and pistols that covered it !
"The captain called the sailmaker aid whispered
a word in his ear, He went below and came up with
the irons. The passengers lent a hand, and in a
few minutes we had the ringleaders provided for.
"Then the captain thought of Arnie. He said,
'I understand you have got Arnie in tow. Bring
him up.' He was brought up, pale as death.
"'Now,' says the captain, 'you 've got to tell
all you know about this business.'
"The child's lips quivered. 'If I do, they will
kill me,' he said.
"'You shan't be touched,' said the captain.


Still Arnold was afraid to speak. He was trem-
bling in every limb. He was such a little fellow,
his head did not reach up to my shoulder. It
was the hardest work to make him tell what he
knew! David had to promise that he should stay
in the cabin all the way, and at last he told the
whole story, and we found everything to be just as
he said. He had heard it all while lying in his
bunk; and the men bound him by a dreadful oath
to secrecy, and swore they would murder him and
throw his body overboard if he should betray them.
He believed they would, but he felt that he must
warn us. He tried to let the captain know in some
way without breaking his oath, but could not make
him understand, and had given me the scrap of
paper as a last resort.
"The convicts had a large supply of weapons and
had bribed the steersman to turn the ship from her
course little by little, intending to mutiny and take
possession of her. They wished to take her to
some strange port and then scuttle her, going
ashore in the boats, and leaving us to our fate.
"Arnold told which men had weapons in their
lockers, and where the keys were, and the captain
sent and seized the arms. He told us, also, that the
ship's cutlasses, which had seemed in good, condi-
tion at the last inspection, had been deprived of
their blades, so that, as we found, only the sheaths
and handles remained, and we could not have used
them for our defense.
S"The boy also told. us that two or-three at-
tempts had been made to cut through the gold
tank, and, on examining, we discovered several
places at the side where some sharp instrument
had been used. This explained the filing sound I
had heard twice.
"Arnie had saved our lives, and you may be sure
we did not forget it.
"We reached- England in safety,, and, before
landing, the passengers made up a handsome purse
for the boy. He was sent to a good school and
well educated, and to-day Arnold McIntyre is an
officer in the Royal. Navy, andt one of the finest
men in Her Majesty's service."


THE ROAD-RUNNER.


BY C. C. HASKINS.

THE road-runner is a native of the western part names as an old convict, but is a very clever,
of America, and has been seen in nearly every companionable, and useful bird. The Spaniards
favorable locality on that coast, from northern named him paisano; he is sometimes called chap-
California to Central America. He has as many arral-cock, and sometimes ground-cuckoo, while






THE ROAD-RUNNER.


the naturalists have given him some very long
names, such as Geococcyx mexicanus; but either
of the simpler names, road-runner or ground-
cuckoo, will answer our purpose very well.
SHe is a cuckoo, but his appearance is quite
different from any other known to us in North
America. His entire length is from twenty to
thirty inches, and the female is much smaller than
the male. Half of his length is due to the long
tail, as you see in his portrait. He is a pretty and
active bird, with many colors in his coat. The
upper parts (darkest in the picture) are olive-
green, each feather being edged with white near
the outer end. The feathers at the side, and on
part of the neck, are white trimmed with black,
and the top of the head is blackish blue. The
lower portions of the body are white, and the legs
green. The four toes on each foot are so placed
that two of them point backward and two forward;
and therefore, from the track, it is sometimes diffi-
cult to tell which way the bird was walking. The
bare spot around his eye has three colors, red, yel-
low, and blue, each separate, and the eye itself
is very bright and beautiful. The crest that
grows on the head can be erected or depressed,
at will. The redbird, the waxwing cedar-bird,
and some others have the same power. That long
switch-tail he can spread, much like a feather-fan,
and he waves it up and down very gracefully.
Sometimes, when excited, he jerks, and jumps
about as a cat-bird will when one comes too near
the blackberry-bushes.
The road-runner lives in the chaparral, among
the cactus-plants. There he is secure from the
hawks and other large birds of prey, and, as he is
nearly always on the ground, he can easily escape
from his enemies by jumping into his castle of
thorns. He is not a very good house-carpenter, for
his nest is merely a few dry sticks loosely thrown
together. His two to four little ones are hatched
from nearly round, white eggs, a little larger than
those of pigeons. He has no song, but cooes like a
dove, and when excited pipes out a shrill, sharp
tone.
But, though neither a house-carpenter nor a
musician, he is an excellent hunter, and, like most
hunters, is a very large eater. His food consists
of bugs, snails, beetles, lizards, snakes, and, I am
sorry to say, he occasionally makes a dinner of
small birds. A fat mouse is a dainty bit for him,
and must be very fleet of foot to escape. He is as
quick as a cat, and will jump eight or ten feet into
the air and catch a bug on the wing, closing his
bill on the unfortunate with a loud, quick snap.
As he seldom rambles far from home, he collects
such little necessary articles as are needed for his
style of housekeeping, and takes care that they


shall be near. One of these is a butcher's-block,
where he dresses his meat for dinner. If the bug
he has caught happens to have a shell, he takes it
to his block," which is a large stone or piece of
bone, and there it is hammered with his bill until
the shell is broken. The same treatment is
adopted for large snails; then dinner is ready.
The early emigrants to California, observing these
"kitchens" of the chaparral-cock, were greatly
puzzled to account for their battered appearance
and the quantities of broken shells and beetle-scales
lying about, until somebody saw the bird at work.
The tarantula, a large poisonous spider that
lives in the same regions as the road-runner, is
said by the inhabitants to be a favorite food.
Whether that be true or not, the bird kills every
one he finds asleep, by a very ingenious method.
Taking some thorny cactus-leaves in his bill, he
builds with them a wall around his prey so high
that the spider can not jump over. Then, taking
a piece of cactus in his bill, the road-runner
hovers over the spider and drops the thorny leaf


CHAPARRAL-COCK, OR ROAD-RUNNER.
upon him. Mr. Spider awakes as much astonished
as a small boy can be when he falls out of bed, and
bounds round his little circus-ring until he kills
himself on the thorns. Then, I suppose, the bird
eats him, but of this we are not certain.
The paisano catches lizards and snakes in the
same cunning way; and I don't know but a spider
would do as well for dinner as a lizard. The poison
of the spider is harmless when taken into the bird's
stomach, but would probably cause death if in-
troduced directly into his blood. Similarly, the
poisoned arrows with which the South Americans
kill the manatee, or sea-cow, in the Amazon, do
not make the meat of the animal unfit for food.
We can not well understand how the bird finds out
the difference, but I think he must know that it is
safer not to risk himself in a fight with a poison-
ous enemy, and that tarantulas for dinner are less
harmful when dead than when alive.
The road-runner takes that name from his dis-
position to escape capture by running rather than


x889.]






THE ROAD-RUNNER.


by flying. It is difficult for a dog to overtake one.
Lieutenant Couch of the United States Army,
while in Texas, saw a wolf, which had just failed in
the attempt to catch a hare, fail a second time in
trying to catch a road-runner. "Apparently much
disappointed," the Lieutenant says, he looked at
me for a moment with an expression that seemed
to say, 'I have half a mind to try you.'" Then he
turned sulkily away, entirely to the officer's satis-
faction.
Colonel Geo. A. McCall, who has been a close
observer of the bird's habits, once had a long chase
after a plucky road-runner. The bird was one
hundred yards in advance at the start, and Colonel
McCall followed him on horseback for nearly a
quarter of a mile, at the end of which time he had
gained only fifty yards upon the little runner. The
bird then ran into the chaparral, and so saved
himself just in time, for he was very tired, and
could not have held out much longer.


The road-runner is easily tamed, and becomes
very familiar and mischievous, stealing and hiding
articles of clothing, spoons, etc., as persistently as do
tame jackdaws, crows, or ravens, and he is always
delighted if he can tear in two a letter or news-
paper, or tip over an inkstand, a lamp, or a flower-
vase.
A gentleman in California owned one that was
not confined, but was allowed to run at large like
a chicken. When small live birds were given to
him, he treated them as a kitten does a mouse,
tossing them into the air, throwing and chasing
them, playing with them until tired, and then
swallowing them whole. Raw meat was not re-
fused, but he preferred lizards, and once ate, at a
single meal, three sparrows, one lizard, and part
of the breast of a coot, without apparent incon-
venience.
This, I think, must have been a Christmas or
Thanksgiving dinner!


THE ARTIST'S DAUGHTER.


768











THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


BY ROWLAND E. ROBINSON.


LOOKING eastward from Lake Champlain, where
it is bordered by the township of Lakefield, the first
eminence that catches the glance that does not over-
shoot to the nobler heights of the Green Mountains,
far beyond, is Shag Back. All Lakefield people,
who have proper town pride, speak of it as Shag
Back Mountain, or, quite as often, as "the Moun-
tain," with the same respect that Camel's Hump
and Mansfield are spoken of by those who dwell
in their mighty shadows. But when the mountain
folk have occasion to speak of it, as they sometimes
do when in its neighborhood, it is only as "that
hill" or "that cobble," and, in fact, if set on a
side of one of their grand familiars it would be
hardly a noticeable ridge.
Forty years ago or more, Shag Back was so
famous for its crops of blueberries and huckleber-
ries, that people came to it from miles away to
gather them; but from some unknown cause, these
crops have failed continuously for many years.
In the fruitful years, when a nimble-fingered
picker might fill a milk-pail in an hour, a French
Canadian lived in a little house standing so near
the foot of Shag Back, that the sunrise came late
to it over the mountain's rugged crest of pines and
gnarled oaks.
Th6ophile Dudelant was the name that parents
and family had given him, but his Yankee neigh-
bors called him DuffyDoodlelaw. He liked neither;
for-the old name was too suggestive of his cast-off
nationality when properly pronounced, and the
attempts of New England tongues threat sounded
so oddly that people were apt to laugh when they
first heard it. So he cast about for a better-sound-
ing name, and as no one could translate for him
the one he bore, he hit upon one which, to his ears,
most resembled it, and presently announced that
his name in English was David Douglas, by which
hereafter he would be known.
Some of his transplanted Canadian friends, who,
casting off with their moccasins the names of
ancestors that had toiled and fought with Cham-
plain and Frontenac, had become Littles, Shorts,
Stones, Rocks, Grigwires, Greenoughs, Loverns,
and what not, accepted it as genuine, and were par-
ticular to address him and speak of him as David
Douglas; but to his great disgust the Yankees
continued to call him Duffy Doodlelaw. Then
VOL. XVI.-49. V


he felt that he had made a mistake and rechrist-
ened himself David Dudley; but this cognomen
would stick no better than the other.
He was thinking of this troublesome question of
names, quite as much as of the onions he was weed-
ing, one August forenoon, when the sun's rays fell
hot upon him.
Douglas; Dudley; ah do' know if one of it was
de bes', or one of it was de bes'," he soliloquized,
as, squatted in the path between the beds, he
tugged at a stubborn bunch of mallows. He car-
ried on all conversations with himself in English,
perhaps to perfect himself in the language, but
more likely to show his mastery of it. And he
had no one else to talk with, for the two youngest
children, who had been left at home while their
mother and the rest went huckleberrying, had not
yet arrived at intelligible speech. Now and then,
when irresistibly attracted by the onions they at-
tempted to pull one, their father would bellow
hoarsely at them in French, or roar the name of
the delinquent in English, but he had nothing
further to say to them. He continued his self-
converse undisturbed, whether they played and
laughed, or fought and squalled.
"Douglas; prob'ly dat was Dudelant. Dudley;
prob'ly dat was Dudelant.' Which of it was saoun'
de bes'? Ah, do' know, me. Good many,
Mista Douglas addressing himself in his bland-
est voice. "Dat was saoun' pooty gooode, bah
jinjo," he commented, and Mr. Douglas began to
frame a polite response to himself. Pooty well,
t'ank you, Mista when he caught sight of a
youngster just snatching an onion-stalk. "Pren'
garrrde! he roared, and the little thief scrambled
away on all fours with the purloined morsel be-
tween his teeth.
Then Th6ophile resumed, while he tugged at
the refractory weed, "Pooty well, t'ank you, Mista
Dud-," but the mallow suddenly broke or
loosened its hold, and he sat down unexpectedly
while the mallow's roots, flying aloft with his
hands, rained a shower of dry earth upon his up-
turned face.
"Sss-a-cr6 ton sac' "he hissed and groaned, as
he got upon his feet and, wiping the dust from his
eyes with the backs of both hands, turned to view
the havoc he had made. "Bah jinjo Ah '11 spilte






THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


more as half-pecks onion!" he said sorrowfully.
"Wal, sah, ah guess ah was be Mista Dudley.
Mista Douglas he ain't sim for be very good lucky,
-he si' down on too much onion !"
Accepting this omen as determining his name
henceforth, he was familiarizing himself with it by
frequent repetitions, when he heard approaching.
footsteps, and voices hushing to low tones and
whispers as they drew nearer.
Looking a little beyond the rough paling of his
garden, he saw a pretty, fair-haired girl of sixteen
years, and two small boys two and four years
younger, in whose complexions and features,
though sunburned and more coarsely molded,
brotherhood with her was plainly discernible. The
three looked so good-humored and happy that it
seemed hardly possible for one to meet them in
any other mood, but each carried a pail or basket
with the evident purpose of berry-picking, and
Th6ophile's heart was at once embittered against
them, and he bent over his onions pretending to
be unaware of visitors. But when the girl came
up to the fence, timidly laying her hands upon it,
starting shyly when the tin pail rang against the
palings, and accosted him with a pleasant Good-
morning, sir," he could no longer ignore their
presence, but arose and faced the honest blue eyes
with profuse simulated courtesy.
"Gooode many, mees. Pooty gooode day dis
many, don't it ? Pooty hot, dough, an' ah guess
he 'll rain some t'under, by 'n' by, ah guess," and he
scanned the brassy sky in which there was not a
promise that rain would ever fall again. "Yas,
sah, he '11 rain 'fore soon, ah believe so, me."
The girl cast a questioning look toward the lake
whence summer showers oftenest came.
"Oh,.dear! Do you think it will rain? My!
I don't want to get wet, but I 'most wish it would
rain, for Father says everything needs it, and my
posy garden is all dryin' up. My Chiny asters is
all wiltin'."
"Ah, ma poo' leetly gal!" cried Theophile,
raising his outspread palms toward her, and then
dropping them by his thighs. "You '11 ain't want
for git ketch in t'under, up on de mountain. De
Slitlin was stroke more as half de tree, ev'ry tam it
t'under, an' de t'under stroke more as half de tree
ev'ry tam it litlin. Oh, bah jinjo! But prob'ly
you '11 ain't goin' dar?"
"Oh, yes!" she said, "we've come huckle-
berryin', and we wanted to ask you where the best
place is; we don't know anything about the
mountain."
"Goin' on de mountain I 'Lone?" said Th6o-
phile, raising his voice in a horrified tone, with an
exclamation point, and an interrogation point brist-
ling at the end of every word. One leetly gaal


an' two leetly boy? Oh, bah jinjo you can' go!
Ah can' let you went! You be all eat awp 'fore
two hour! You be all tored to piecens! and
his upraised hands fell to clawing the air with
hooked fingers.
The smile faded out of the girl's face as she
lifted her startled eyes to Th6ophile's, and her
parted lips framed an inarticulate Why?"
I "Was it possibly you '11 ain't hear 'baout de
pant'er? She shook her head, and her brothers,
who had stood apart, fidgeting impatiently over the
delay, were drawn near with quickened interest at
the mention of a panther.
"Naw? Wal, bah jinjo! Dey was twenty,
prob'ly forty. Folkses have hear it yaller Ev'ry
day, ev'ry day Ah '11 hear it to-day, myse'f, yes,
sah! Prob'ly 'f you '11 listen leetlywhil', you hear
it, you'se'f. Dah lifting his left hand toward the
mountain and rolling his eyes in the same direc-
tion from whence came the snarling squall of a
young crow, ain't you '1l hear dat noise ? "
That sounds jus' like a crow," the elder boy re-
marked, after listening a moment with held breath.
Cr-row!" Th6ophile growled contemptuously.
"Bah jinjo, ah guess you ain't t'ink he was cr-row
'f he 'll gat hees claw in you. Yas, sah, he could
make ev'ry kan' of noise, ev'ry was'be make. Like
blue-jay, like cr-row, like hawk, like howl, like huo-
mans, like bebbee, w'en he '11try for foolish some-
body for come near it. But you '11 wan' hear it w'en
he'll spik hees own language! He '11 mek you
hairs froze awp straight on tawp you' heads, dat
time Oh, it was dreadfully Ma wife her 'll go
for try git few hawkleberree for make happlesasses
for de chil'en, tudder day, an' her '11 come home so
scare of dat pant'er her mos' can' breev, her '11 make
so much run 'way from it. Her so scare naow, her
ain't stay home 'mos' any, so close de mountain.
Her '11 gone vees'tin' to-day and all de chil'en can
walked, 'cep' de bebbee, her carry. An' one time
if you '11 believe, dat pant'er was 'mos' scarit me;
but ah '11 ain't scare. No, sah! He gat to be
more as one pant'er, for scare me, ah guess," he
said, in a big voice, ending with a bellow of scorn-
ful laughter that might have made a panther's
blood run cold.
Ough, the hateful thing the girl shuddered
as she cast a frightened glance toward the moun-
tain where the terrible beast was lurking. It's
too bad We wanted so to get some for Mother.
She 's kind o' peaked this summer, and hankers
after huckleberries, and we 've come 'most three
miles," she explained to Th6ophile. "If there
was only somebody to go with us You could n't,
just till we could git a few ?" she asked, timidly,
after little struggle with her bashfulness. "Father
'd pay you; I know he would."






THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


Th6ophile felt that he had made a mistake in
vaunting his bravery, for nothing was further from
his purpose than to guide any one, out of his own
family, to the fruitful fields that be had set the
mythical panther to guard.
It will make me so glad for go, if ah can, but
ah can' go an' lef ma leetly chil'en, an' ah can'
take it. Oh, no, no. Ah can' go to-day, ain't you
see? But prob'ly ah could go some many very
airly, an' peek some for you,-very airly, 'fore
you can gat here. Ah spec' dough, de hawkle-
berrees all dry awp, he ain't rain, so long tam."
Say, Lib," said the older boy, after a long,
wistful look at the steeps above, whose tops were
level, with ledges fringed with a shrubby growth
that promised huckleberries, Le' 's go up apiece;
I ain't afraid "
No, no," she said, in a tremor of alarm, you
must n't go a step "
Oh, 'fraid cat! You can stay here 'f you wan'
to, an' me an' Abner '11 go. Come on, Abner,"









.4,,
,.::='..^ :i ",'




















Oh, 'Johnny," she pleaded, "be a good boy,




and le' 's go home; you know we ought to."
He would not stop for being told he must, but
i!:




TH]AOHILL TELLS LIBBY AND

he cried with boyish bravado, and took a few steps
toward the-woods; but Abner did not follow.
Oh, Johnny," she pleaded, be a good boy,
and le' 's go home; you know we ought to."
He would not stop for being told he must, but


was not at all unwilling to do so when coaxed, for
he began to feel a queer sensation creeping and
crawling down his back till it unpleasantly tickled
his toes. A great hawk was wheeling in slow cir-
cles above the mountain and gasping out tremu-
lous, angry cries, as if he spied some hateful
intruder prowling beneath him. Perhaps he saw
the panther.
He ain't 'fred for go, all 'lone, ah know dat,"
said Theophile in a wheedling tone, but it would
be weekend weekend for go in so danger. An'
he was good boy, ah know by hees look of it."
If I 'd only fetched my gun, I'd resk anything
touchin' us," said Johnny, feeling braver with the
mountain behind him.
"No, sir I guess nothing would," Abner said;
and to Theophile, He shot a fox last fall when he
went huntin' with Uncle Abner, did n't you,
Johnny? A real fox, sir, and big! wa' n't he,
Johnny ?" and Johnny nodded a modest assent,
looking down at the ant-hill he was kicking, yet


TH BOYS ABOUT THE PANTHER.
rHE BOYS ABOUT THE PANTHER.


"- -.~


casting a furtive, sidelong glance the while to note
how the story of his doughty deed was received
by the Canadian. He was quite disgusted that it
excited no more surprise than was expressed in
the remark:


x889.]





THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


"Oh, he keel fox, hein? Wal, sah, de shoot
Sdat will keel fox, was jes' make pant'er more mad-
der, for hate you wus. Wal, ah mus' take care ma
onion an' ma bebbee, or ma woman her '11 scol' !
Ha! ha! Ah '11 more 'fred ma woman as ah was
'fred pant'er. Ha! ha!"
"Oh, dear suz!" Elizabeth sighed, "I s'pose
we must go home. Come, boys. Good-bye, Mis-
ter ?"
"Douglas-Dudley, ah meant, was ma nem,
David Dudley. Good-bye, mees, good-bye. Ah
be sorry you '11 can' gat some berree."
When he had seen the disappointed little party
climb the second fence on their homeward way, he
Turned again to his lazy labor, chuckling over his
mean achievement. "Pant'er on the mountain!
Oh, bah jinjo! It took David Dugley for foolish
de Yankee,-ha! ha! ha-e-ee I "
Hot, tired, and disheartened, the girl and her
brothers went across the fields that seemed to have
doubled their weary width since they made their
hopeful morning journey over them. In the past-
ures where the sheep stood in huddles under the
trees, with noses close to the ground, making no
motion but when they kicked at the pestering flies,
the dry grass was more slippery underfoot and
the stubble of the shorn meadows was sharper.
The piercing cry of the locusts and the husky clap-
ping of their wings sounded more tiresome, hotter,
and dryer; and they had not noticed till now that
the bobolinks had lost their song and gay attire,
and were gathered in little flocks along thickets
of elders, raspberry-bushes, and golden-rods that
almost hid the fences, though they were so high as
to seem almost insurmountable barriers. Here
the bumble-bees droned from aster to golden-rod,
from willow-herb to fire-weed, after brief, fumbling
explorations of each as if they found no sweet in
any, and the kingbirds made hovering flights
from stake to stake, vexing the weary giil with
their needless alarm and causeless scolding; and,
indeed, everything in nature seemed out of tune,
with nothing in it satisfied, or satisfying, or pleas-
ant or cheery. When they came to the edge of
the meadow behind their own home, how far away,
and like an ever-receding mirage, the red house
S and gray barns looked, though they could hear
the hens cackling. They thought they must die
of thirst before they could reach the well; though
they cold see the sweep slanting against the sky,
and even the slender pole that hung from its tip.
When at last they came near it, a tall man was
drawing up the bucket, intently watching its slow
ascent with such care as if it was bringing up his
fortune and every drop was a diamond, that he did
not see them till they were close upon him.
The sunburned face he turned toward them, witt


a lItle expre-s;on of surprise, wore also such habit-
ual guise of good-nature that one would guess he
could never be much at variance uit h anything -
unless it might be work.
"Why, younkits, you back so soon ? Where 's
you' baries?" seeing how lightly hung the empty
pails and baskets; and then, with a little chuckle,
Wal, I swan! If you hain't busters His quick
eye noted how longingly theirs were bent on the
dripping bucket. "Dry, be ye? Wal, this come
if' the north-east corner, an' it's colder 'n charity.
Here's a dipperful to start on, Libby." He passed
a brimming quart to his-niece, who held it while her
brothers drank before she took a sip.
Oh, Uncle Abner, there 's a panther!" Johnny
gasped, when the first draught had loosened his
parched tongue.
"A what ?" asked the uncle, backing into an
easy position against the curb.
"A panther, areal panther. Yes, sir, there is "
in earnest protest against the incredulity expressed
in his uncle's face; "on Shag Back Mountain,
there is "
"Did you see him? Wa' n't it a woo' chuck? "
Uncle Abner asked, dallying with the returned
dipper in a way that shocked Elizabeth's house-
wifely ideas' of neatness.
Oh, Uncle Abner! cried Johnny reproach-
fully. "No, sir, we did n't see him, but a man
told us, that's heard him, an' he 's scairt every-
body to death, so they dassent go there any more."
"Who's the man?"
Wha' 'd he say his name was, Lib ? Anyways,
he 's a Frenchman that lives up there, and he
'pears to be real clever, and candid, and was awful
'fraid we 'd go and git hurt, but I would 'f I 'd had
my gun. My sakes! -if I could shoot a panther !"
The confaounded critter Uncle Abner re-
marked, in as angry a tone as he ever used; his
hearers were in some doubt whether the epithet was
bestowed on the man or on the panther.
Why, Uncle Abner, you don't believe the man
lied ?" Johnny asked, opening his eyes as wide as
his mouth. There was a fascinating horror in the
belief that there was a panther so near, as if the
Sold times, that made his flesh creep when he heard
Stories of them, had come back, and it made him
uncomfortable to have his faith shaken.
S "Lie? Oh, no I That Canuck never lies," Uncle
Abner replied, hardly reassuringly, never, when
he keeps his mouth shut. He would n't care haow
many hucklebaries folks got, if they bought 'em o'
him."
When they had detailed all they had heard of
Ithe savage invader of Shag Back, their uncle gave
a little snort which expressed skepticism, if not
I downright unbelief, but said'nothing till he had


; [AUG.


772






i889.]


THE SHAG BA


filled his water-jug and corked it with a.corn-cob
fresh from the crib.
"Maybe, if we finish gittin' in the oats to-day,
I '11 go up to Shag Back with ye to-morrow, an'
we '11 see if we can't git a hucklebary, spite o' that
painter. The confaounded critter! And he
strode away with his chuckling jug to the barn,
where the hoofs of the horses could be heard
pounding the floor with resounding thumps in
warfare with the flies.
The young folks were as glad to have the oat-
field cleared that day,-as if the crop had been their
own, for it was a great day when Uncle Abner
would go with them fishing, berrying, or nut-
ting, and they were sure, now, that a little special
pleading would make his "maybe as good as a
promise.
They were not disappointed. When the sun rose
next morning out of the coppery and leaden clouds
which gave no promise of the rain that every one
but these selfish people was wishing for, it was the
same red, rayless ball that it had been for weeks,
and soon after breakfast Uncle Abner, with exas-
perating slowness, made ready to start. In a short
time the expedition set forth.
Johnny besought his uncle for leave to take his
rifle and the old hound. The dog, when he divined
his master's intention of taking an outing, jumped
about with delight, bellowed a sonorous entreaty
to accompany him, tugging at his chain and corru-
gating his sorrowful brows with new lines of grief
when he was bidden to stop his noise.
No, Bub, your gun '11 be enough an' Laoud
ain't a painter dawg. Shut up, Laoud, 't won't
be long 'fore coonin' time, ol' feller."
The hound sat down, shifting his weight from
one crooked leg to the other, as he wistfully
watched the party out of sight, and then, after a
few pivoting turns of imaginary nest-making, lay
down with a whining sigh of disappointment.
In company with one so learned as their uncle
in the lives of wild things, the way to the moun-
tain was not long, though they often turned aside
to see the deserted nest of a bird or the bird it-
self, when they heard an unfamiliar note. Some-
times it was a jay, uttering of his many cries one
that they had never heard before. Sometimes a
cat-bird practicing some new mimicry in the seclu-
sion of a fence-side thicket; and once, when the
squalls of a shrike drew them to a wide-spreading
thorn-tree, their uncle showed them an impaled
sparrow that the little gray and black butcher had
hung in his leaf-roofed shambles.
The veil of distance and the drought haze that
revealed the mountain only as a velvety gray-
green bound of the horizon, dissolved in an hour,
and the steeps arose just before them, clad in the


CK PANTHER. 773

individual tints of trees, each wearing such green-
ness as the pitiless sky had left it.
Without coming in sight of the Canadian's
house, they entered the woods at the open door of
the Notch, and, near the brook that had grown
faint and almost voiceless in the parching heat,
they fortified themselves for further journeying
by draughts from a famous cold spring, the
scarcely melted outflow of a far-away ide-bed,
creeping from under a mossy rock into the light
of day,- a distillation of the heart of the moun-
tain with a subtle flavor of the hidden inner world,
and so cold that the scant measure of a birch-bark
cup full made their throats ache.
Then they went along on a wood road, which
wound hither and thither with such gradual turns
that the children soon so completely lost all knowl-
edge of the points of compass that the dim shad-
ows of the trees pointed for them to the south-east,
and the puffs of south wind bent the hemlock tips
away from the north. But their uncle's fox-hunt-
ing had taken him so many times to Shag Back
that he knew every nook and corner of it, all the
favorite run-ways of foxes, and, as well, on what
ledges and slopes the huckleberries flourished
best, for in the first October days of hunting they
had not yet all fallen off with the reddening leaves.
To such a place he had led them, and presently
they were so busy with picking that the panther
was almost forgotten.

It very naturally happened that on the same
morning Th6ophile Dudelant went, by a different
way, to the same place; for no one knew better
than he where the bushes were most heavily laden
with the fruit he had set'the panther of his own
creation to keep others from gathering. His con-
science was not quite benumbed by all the strokes
and smotherings it had received in the forty years
(during which he could scarcely recall a time when
it had not had the worst of his wrestling with it)
and it gave him some faint twinges now and then,
as he remembered the disappointment of his yes-
terday's visitors,- twinges that he allayed by a
promise uttered aloud to himself.
Bah jinjo ah will take some nicest berree ah
can fin' to dat folkses, an' sol' it cheap I Yas, sah,
footy cheap; jes' enoughh for paid for ma tam an'
troublesome; twelve cen' a quart, ah guess, an'
take ma paid in pork -if he ain't ask too much "
And thus he excused his invention of an enemy:
" Wal, dey was ma berree, ain't it? Dat was ma
orchard, ain't it? Yas, sah Dey ain't let me go in
dey orchard for happles w'en ah want it, an' ah .11
ain't let dey go in ma orchard, if ah can help it,
bah jinjo An', sah, dey maght be pant'er, prob'ly.
Dey was goode place for it, an' they don't wan' deir






THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


chillen all tore up to piecens; an' prob'ly dey lay
it to me. Yas, sah! It was a very good place for
pant'er raght here "
Indeed it was- here under low, branching pines
where twilight brooded throughout the sunniest
day over the dun, noiseless mat of fallen needles,
so like a panther in color that one might crouch
upon it, unseen ten paces away; so soft that even
a caress footfall would be unheard at half the dis-
tance. It was such a likely place for a panther to
lurk in, that he shivered, in spite of the heat which
penetrated even these shades, when he heard
approaching footsteps and the swish of saplings
and branches recovering their places, and stood
aghast till he saw a straw hat (of his wife's manu-
facture); and then a neighbor's face appeared
above the undergrowth that choked the path.
"Hello, Duffy!" cried a reassuring voice in a
tone expressing as much disappointment as sur-
prise, "I thought you was my yearlin's when I
heard ye. Hain't seen 'em, hev ye ? I been rum-
magin' the hull mountain arter 'em, an' can't find
hide ner hair on 'em. Guess suthin' 's eat 'em
up -a painter, er suthin'. Mebby a tew-legged
painter But ye know there was a regular painter
scairt a gal, onct, aouten her seben senses, right
clus to where we be, not sech a terrible while ago.
Oh, thirty, forty year, mebby. Yes," stooping to
look beneath the low boughs toward a spring that
bubbled up in the shade of the pines, at the edge
of an old clearing, "right there, at the spring, she
was a-bleaching a web o' cloth. Guess he 's come
back an' got my young cattle, for I can't find 'em.
Goin' baryin', be ye? Wal, I 've seen sights on
'em this morning If you see them yearlin's,--a
brindle steer an' tew red heifers,- you let me know,
Duffy."
The cattle hunter lightly dismissed the subject
of panthers and went his way, but it had made its
impression on Theophile.
There had once been a panther here, and why
might there not be one now? The possibility so
constantly presented itself, that he could think of
nothing else when he had come to his berry patch,
and he listened long, and carefully scanned the
bordering thickets before he began picking.
Years ago the scant growth of wood had been
cut from an acre or two of this eastering slope, and
the thin soil nourished now only a knee-deep
thicket of huckleberry-bushes and sweet-ferns.
The woods sloped to it on the upper side, a dense
growth of low pines pierced with tremulous spires
of young poplars and-slender trunks of sapling
birches traced in thin, broken lines of white against
the dark evergreens. A deep, narrow hollow ran
along its lower easterly edge, always dark with the
shade of pines and balsam firs, a little colony of


which had established itself here, far from the home
of the parent stock. Down this hollow the scant
outflow of a spring trickled almost noiselessly
among liverwort and moss, from tiny pool to pool
where ripples quivered with the blazing reflections
of cardinal-flowers, like inverted lambent flames.
Th6ophile had seen it a hundred times, but it had
never before occurred to him that it was just the
lurking-place a panther might choose,- where he
might lie in wait for prey, or rest unseen and un-
disturbed and quench the thirst begotten by his
horrible feasts. The intermittent dribble of the
rill sounded terribly like the slow lapping of a
great cat; what seemed but the stir of a leaf, might
be a footfall of his stealthy approach; the .acci-
dental snapping of a drytwig, perhaps, by a squir-
rel; a rustle of last year's leaves, made by a covey
of partridges; the sudden shiver of a sapling,
struck, perhaps, by a falling, rotted limb, might
all be signs of his presence as he crept near, with
cruel, eager eyes, measuring the certain distance
of a deadly spring. The songs of the birds were
hushed, as if the singers were awed to silence by
some baleful presence. No bird voice was heard
but the discordant squalling of a jay, raised in
alarmed and angry outcry against some intruder,-
a fox or an owl, perhaps,- but there were possi-
bilities that his sharp eyes had discovered some-
thing far more dreadful than these, prowling in
the black shadows. The shifting sunlight and
shadow on a withered pine-bush gave it the sem-
blance of a living, moving object too large and
tawny to be a fox, and Thdophile held his breath
and listened to the beating of his heart, till a long
look had assured him how harmless a thing it was.
He tried to laugh at his causeless alarm, but the
sound of his mirthless laughter was so strange that
it gave him new affright.
If any eyes were upon him, they could not but
note his trepidation when he often withheld his
trembling hands from the drooping clusters of
fruit, and bent a strained ear to listen to a sigh of
the wind, the rustle of a leaf, the flutter of a bird,
or the stir of some shy inhabitant of the woods,
and scanned again and again the bounds of its
mysterious shades, often standing up to look
behind him.
The scarcely broken silence, an awed, expectant
hush of nature, the sense of being there alone to
face whatever might come, were so hard to bear
that he promised himself he would stay no longer
than to half fill his pail; and long before that was
done he wished for the company of his worthless
cur, and began to invent a story of sudden sickness
to excuse an immediate retreat.
The drip of the tiny rill seemed to cease in a
moment of ominous silence, then a poplar shivered





THE SHAG BACK PANTHER.


in a sudden puff of hot wind that died away in a
gasping sigh among the pines.
There wasacrashoftwigsin the edge of the woods,
and a frightened partridge hurtled across the clear-
ing, too bewildered to notice him or turn aside for


When Uncle Abner had sent a final terrific
screech tearing through the woods after the flying
Canadian, his part in the play was ended. Before
the echoes of the unearthly cry had faded, in slow
pulsations, out of the hot air, he led his little party


P


" WITH A SMOTHERED CRY OF DREAD HE SPRANG AWAY."


him; and then a fiendish yell rent the air,-such
a terrific outbreak of discordant sound that for an
instant all power of motion sank out of him, while
he stood frozen with terror -but onlyfor an instant.
Then, with a smothered cry of dread, he sprang
away, instinctively taking the path he had fol-
lowed thither; His foot caught in a root and he
fell headlong, dropping his pail and spilling his
berries, but still continuing his flight on all fours
till he got again upon his feet, and then ran on and
on at such speed as he had never made before; only
halting when the woods were half a mile behind
him and he dropped exhausted on a pasture knoll
and in painful gasps recovered his spent breath.


forth from their hiding-place to the window of
spilled berries.
"We '11 leave him his pail, if he ever dares to
come arter it; but it wouldd be tew bad t' hev these
big ripe baries wasted," he said, as he and the
children scooped them by handfuls into their own
half-filled pails.
Though it is not reported that Shag Back was
ever again visited by a panther, the dread of such
a visit abode with Th6ophile, till dew and rain and
snow had rusted his pail out of all use but to ex-
cite the curiosity of such as happened to come upon
it,- when each one's fancy accounted in its own
way for the cause of its abandonment.


775


'"_J"










SWEET PEAS.


BY MILDRED HOWELLS.


Ar


ONCE within my garden wall,
From their dainty flight
Rested a flock of Butterflies,
All in pink and white.


Why they chose my garden plot
I shall never know-
But people call them now Sweet
Peas,
And really think they grow I













AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


A SUMMER VACATION ALONG THE CORAL-REEFS OF SOUTHERN FLORIDA.

BY CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER.


CHAPTER V.

IT was a glorious day, not a cloud was in the
sky; the water was as smooth as glass, save when,
now and then, the flapping tail of some big fish
splashed the surface. The subdued roar at the outer
reef sounded like far-off music, the white Keys and
the azure of the bright sky were reflected again
and again in the water, and the whole scene seemed
to the boys a dream of enchantment.
Long John led the way in the dinghy, with three
or four of the boys, while the Professor and the rest
of the expedition followed in the reef-boat. Before
long, they left the channel and came suddenly
upon the reef, which here rose almost perpendic-
ularly from the water and bristled with innu-
merable points of coral. Deep down among the
green moss-fronds, an anemone, looking much like
the weird passion-flower, turned its fair face toward
them; angel-fish flashed by, their gay bands and
wing-like fins resplendent with color; gayly striped
murries darted in and out of the shadows of the sea-
fans and feathers, and the gorgonias, brilliant with
rainbow tints, played among duller-hued conches
and hermit-crabs, sea-eggs, and devil-fish. A small
species of saw-fish darted under the boat, just escap-
ingTom Derby's spear, and the weapon landed in
a large black mass about three feet in diameter and
concave on top, like a huge vase.
Hallo, what's this? cried Tom, hauling away
at the mass.
"It is a sponge," Professor Howard said. "The
color is the animal part."
"Why, are sponges animals, Professor?" asked
Ludlow.
"Animal mucus and fat-oil have been found in
them by analysis, and scientific men admit them
to the ranks of animated nature, though of course
among the very lowest forms," the, Professor ex-
plained. "If you examine them closely in the
water you may see a slight current over the pores
and openings, which shows that the necessary
nourishment is probably thus absorbed while it
circulates through these cavities. The common
sponges, as we use them, are but the skeletons."


The boat was now gradually nearing Bush Key,
with its scraggy trees, when Eaton exclaimed:
"Why, there 's a cigar in the water "
So it is," said Bob Carrington, nearly tumbling
overboard in an attempt to reach it.
"Sold again," laughed Vail, who had secured
one: "it's only a plant."
"You 'd find them hard to smoke, boys," said
the Professor, "although they are more useful than
all the cigars that could be sent over here from
Havana. They are the seeds of the mangrove-
tree, one of the reef-builders. The land of the
State of Florida has been formed mainly by the
coral and the mangroves."
"Tell us how, Professor," said Tom Derby.
"Well," said the Professor, "suppose this clear
water, on which we are drifting, should be visited
by a single egg of the star-shaped coral called the
Astraea. It settles on a bit of shell. In a few days
some tentacles spring out, and the tiny polyp
seems only a solitary sea-anemone. But then a little
growth of lime, secreted by the anemone, forms
in the shell, and soon overspreads it with a jagged
coating. Then, another polyp grows beside this
one, and the single egg that first drifted here has
by the process of growth become two. This goes
on indefinitely, until the bottom all around here
is covered with coral work. Then, when these
polyps decay and die, the sea-sand sifts in; other
corals grow on this; floating matter is caught and
added to the growing reef; some forms of branch-
ing corals take root here, together with gorgonias,
or sea-fans and feathers; all these are eaten or
crushed down by great worms and' coral-eating
fishes. Upon this decay, still other forms of coral
take root; shell-fish of various kinds make it their
home; delicate corals that need protection from the
waves grow up in the lagoon formed within the
shallow circle; as the reef becomes higher, sea-
weeds and corallines are added; every particle of
refuse adds to the upbuilding of this curious island;
and now, just as the dry layers, or top-dressings, ap-
pear above the waves, along comes Eaton's floating
'cigar.' The larger end of the mangrove bud
strikes the sand or mud collected on the reef, the
77






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


tide drives it still further on, and, touching the soil,
it sends out little shoots. These soon obtain foot-
hold, and thus a mangrove-tree is started. These
being self-propagating by shoots and rootlets, a
gro\n th in time may extend around the whole island,
other waste matter of the sea is accommodated, the
influence of winds and tides changes the surface,
and nature furnishes ,suitable plants to flourish in
the new soil which the decay of vegetable and ani-
mal organizations is continually increasing and en-
riching. That is the secret of reef-buildirig."
As the Professor had been engaged in his de-
scription, the boat had slowly drifted toward the
Key, when right ahead a large sting-ray leaped from
the water, flapping its wing-like fins in the air a
moment, and then coming down with a crash that
was heard all over the lagoon. A large fin showed
itself above the water, rushing after the ray toward
a shoal near the Key.
It 's a shark chasing a sting-ray," shouted
Bob Carrington from the bow. Give way, boys,
give way !"
The boat surged ahead in the direction of the
great fishes. The shark was gaining on its less
rapid victim, and the ray repeatedly leaped into
air to escape the rushes the shark made toward it.
Suddenly the ray took a desperate chance as it
neared the shoal, and, instead of turning, dashed
upon it; the flat body passed through the scant
eight inches of water with a rush, and in an instant
it was through the breakers and in the blue
waters of the Gulf. The shark, following in blind
haste, could not force its big body over the shoal,
and was soon high and dry on the reef. The
boat's crew were quickly upon it, but, on account
of its tremendous efforts to free itself, they dared
not come near it. In its struggles the shark
would bend nearly double, and then, suddenly
straightening out, would hurl the water over the
boys, who had now left the boat and were wading
about in the shoal water, dodging the shark's tail
and trying to get within striking distance. Finally
Woodbury hurled his grains into the shark's head.
This only increased the shark's struggles, but
Long John, jumping up to the writhing monster,
struck it a terrific blow, breaking its backbone,
and killing the fish as suddenly as if it had been
struck by lightning.
"It 's.easy enough, when you know how," he
said, laughing; and Professor Howard, Ludlow,
and Long John were soon at work cutting up their
prize.
"Stand still, Tom," said Professor Howard,
presently, as he lifted the shark's jaw and held
it so that it easily fitted over Derby's head and
shoulders;
It has eight rows of teeth," said Douglas,


counting them. "What a time the young sharks
must have when cutting their teeth "
"Yes," said Ramsey, feeling of the terrible
weapons, and each one is saw-like and sharp as
a knife."
"All the teeth except the front row lie flat,"
said the Professor, "when not in use. As you
see, they move up and down; but when it was
after the ray I feel sure they were all vertical and
ready for action."
For his share of the prize, Long John took the
liver, intending to try out the oil.
Sharks are not entirely worthless animals, you
see, after all," said Professor Howard. "The
teeth are used by many savage islanders for
weapons, the liver is taken out for the oil it con-
tains, and in the East the tails and fins are valua-
ble articles of commerce, and the skin, as with us,
is used for various purposes, and even in jewelry."
"What do you call this shark that we have
caught, Professor ?" asked Bob Carrington.
It is a white shark," he replied, of the genus
Carcharias. They have been caught in the East
over twenty-five feet long. There are at least a
hundred different specimens of sharks now known
to naturalists, and this gentleman had an enor-
mous forefather, away back in what is called the
Tertiary period, known as the Carcharodon. That
ancestor must have been over a hundred feet long,
and had teeth as large as your open palm."
"But what is this, Professor?" asked Ludlow,
striking at a black body hanging to the shark,
just under water, which Long John now exposed
to view by turning the body over.
"Take it by the head and pull it off," said Long
John; "'t won't hurt you; it's only a sucker."
But this was by no means easy, for the curious
object stuck so fast that only by a violent wrench
could Ludlow and Vail tear it from the shark.
"Why, it 's a remora, and a very interesting
fish it is," said Professor Howard. "It follows
the larger fishes and attaches itself to them by
this disk, refusing to leave them even when they
are dead, as you see."
That's why we call 'em suckers,'" said Long
John.
"They are sometimes called ship-stayers,'" said
the Professor, '"and one of them is said to have
changed the history of the world and given the
Roman Empire to Augustus Caesar."

CHAPTER VI.

DOUBLY interested by so historic and important
a fish, the boys gathered around this curious speci-
men and examined it minutely.
The disk, which was the principal object of






o'y 9. AMUjNG THE F
curiosity about the remora, was oval in shape, and
on the very top of the head. It resembled, in con-
struction, a Venetian blind, for it was composed
of what the Professor called oblique transverse
cartilaginous plates," and Tom Derby said were
"slats of gristle.". These were supplied with deli-
cate teeth or hooks that helped it to.cling.
Bu t how did it help Augustus Caesar? inquired
Hall.
There is a legendary story that one of these
fellows fastened itself on Antony's galley at the
great naval battle of Actium, and thus allowed
the galley of Augustus to obtain the advantage
in the onset," the Professor explained. Hence
its name-' the ship-stayer.'"
I have heard you can catch turtles with 'em,"
said Long John, "although I 've never seen it
done."
I have heard the same thing," said the Pro-
fessor. In some countries the natives, it is said,
keep this fish in a tub of water, and then, when a
turtle is sighted, the remora, with a cord tied to
its tail, is tossed overboard. Instinctively, it fast-
ens itself to the unconscious turtle, which is
speedily hauled in by the fisherman."
Well, well, a live fish-hook. That is an idea,"
laughed Tom Derby. "Let 's keep it and try.
Only it would be rather rough on us if Mr. Remora
should fasten himself to a shark instead of to a
turtle."
Wading along the shoal toward the reef, the boys
continued their investigations in tide-water; and
Ludlow and Woodbury, coming upon a large piece
of coral, that had been worn almost through, rolled
it over. In doing so they disclosed a natural pool
beneath the coral, and at the bottom of the pool
lay a most peculiar fish.
S" Well, here 's a curious chap, Professor," said
Woodbury; "what under the sun--or, rather,
under the coral is he ? "
The Professor stooped down and investigated.
"You're right, Woodbury; he is a curious chap,"
he said. "This is called the Malthcea. It has, as
you see, no fins for swimming, but is provided with
short feet, like paddles, with which it moves over
the muddy bottom in which it lives."
"Well, he 's lazy enough," said Vail; as the
fish, even when touched, showed but small desire
to move.
"It is one of the class of sluggish fishes," ex-:
plained Professor Howard, "of which there are a
number. This one, you will notice, is formed and
colored so as to appear like an inanimate sub-
stance, a part of the sea-bottom. But here is the
singular thing. Do you see here, right under the
nose, a sort of depression or pit, from the roof of
which hangs a curiously colored pendant? "


'LORIDA KEYS. 779
The boys, after a careful look, saw it distinctly.
Well," said the Professor, that is the means
by which the Malthlea makes up for his sluggish-
ness. His broad mouth rests on the mud, above it
this curious-looking pendant twists and writhes
and puffs itself, and looks so much like a tempting
and luscious worm to the hungry prawn or inquisi-
tive crab, that the living bait is approached too
closely; the great mouth yawns wide open, and -
good-bye to Mr. Crab or Mr. Prawn "
"Well," said Douglas, "we've seen a living
fish-hook and a living bait; if we keep a sharp
lookout, perhaps we shall find a live reel or fish-
ing-pole "
Here is a curious shell," cried Eaton, who had
waded out into deeper water. He lifted up a gor-
gonia a foot in diameter and of a rich yellow hue.
Clinging to it were a number of beautiful oblong
shells of about the same tint tending toward pink.
Those are fan-shells," said the Professor, and
are parasites on the gorgonia, or sea-fan. They
make beautiful sleeve-buttons."
The boys supplied themselves with a stock of
these natural cuff-buttons, and then Douglas, turn-
ing over a rock that was alive with spider-crabs,
pulled a beautiful blue one out of the water and
tossed it to Long John, to be placed in the water-
pail for security.
"Here's an odd fellow," said Tom Derby a
moment after, stooping over the rock and bringing
up a curious-looking spider-crab.
"That is a deep-water one," said the Professor;
some of his big relatives, measuring nearly three
feet across, have been hauled up in the South At-
lantic from a depth of nearly two miles."
"As deep down as that?" exclaimed Douglas;
"why, Professor, I thought the pressure was too
great for animals to live at such great depths."
Water is practically incompressible, Douglas,"
explained the Professor; that is to say, it can not
be forced into a smaller compass, as solids can.
So, as all these creatures are filled with water, the
pressure is equalized. If you lower an empty
bottle two miles under water it will burst, but if
lowered full of water it will remain intact. And
yet, the pressure in deep water is simply tremen-
dous. A deep-water crab, for instafice, must with-
stand a pressure, at such depths as two and a half
miles, of a number of tons,- as against the fif-
teen pounds' pressure which a fish at the surface
experiences. But all animals are adapted for their
particular sphere of life."
Noticing a bubbling in the sand, Bob Carring-
ton thrust his hand under the sand, and forced up
what the Professor declared to be a box-crab. As
Professor Howarde demonstrated, it had the fac-
ulty of closing its legs around its body in such a


Ir____ __II __^___ _____I






AMONG "THE FLORIDA KEYS.


manner as to seem a solid piece. When released,
it opened out and showed its curious make-up,- a
round body, covered with queer, brown spots and
ridges, and even the claws were formed in gro-
tesque shapes.
It is a very common crab on these reefs," said
Professor Howard; "its scientific name is CalaPfa
tuberculosa."
Hallo-look over yonder! came a sudden
shout from Long John. We 've got to clear out
of this and be quick about it too "
They all followed the direction of his warning
gesture, and saw on the horizon a small, wiry black
cloud, its lines as distinct as if drawn with a brush.
As they sprang into the boats and pulled for Long
Key, the cloud seemed to increase, and so rapidly
did it gain upon them that, in ten minutes from the
time they sighted it, the cloud was almost on them.
Landing hurriedly they hauled the boats on shore,
and turning the dinghy keel up, they crawled be-
neath it and just in time! For, with a darkness
that turned day into night, and with a low, far-
away moaning that grew into a roar, wind, rain,
and sand burst upon them in a hurricane, with a
fierceness that threatened to carry away the boats.
The wind howled and shrieked, the lightning
flashes lighted up the scene in fitful glances, while
the sea was beaten into clouds of foam, lifted into
the air and hurled far beyond them over the island.
"It won't last but a minute," shouted Long
John, from somewhere; and even as he spoke it
began to grow lighter; the rain ceased, and they
crawled from beneath the boat. The cloud or
squall disappeared almost as rapidly as it came,
and in twenty minutes from the time the storm
arose, the sun was shining again from a clear sky.
A start was now made for home. The squall had
left a stiff breeze behind it, and with sails hoisted on
the reef-boat and towing the dinghy astern they were
soon rushing toward Garden Key, gunwale under.
Well, that was a blow I said Tom Derby.
Oh, it's nothing when you get used to it," said
Long John. "I 've seen seven or eight of 'em
moving around the horizon, looking just as if they
were painted on the sky. It's quick come, and
quick go, with 'em; but if you keep your weather
eye open, you know how to steer clear of'em."
This is not the way home, is it? asked Bob
Carrington, as Long John headed the flying boat
between Long and Bush Keys.
"It's one way," said the boatman, trimming
the sail still more.
Crossing the reef, the boat dashed into blue
water and bore away to the south, where the long
line of breakers seemed to form an impassable bar-
rier. Long John kept along the reef until nearly
opposite the sally-port of Fort Jefferson, which


could just be seen two miles away, and then sud-
denly he kept off before the wind and headed
straight for the breakers.
The boys looked at the raging surf in some
anxiety, and then glanced at Long John. He
was cool and calm.
"I suppose he knows what he 's about," mut-
tered Tom to Bob.
"Slack off the sheets!" shouted Long John
quickly, standing up now and scanning the distant
fort.
The boys did as directed, and the boat bent
over and rushed headlong toward the reef and,
seemingly, to destruction.
I don't care to swim in that surf," said Lud-
low, looking uneasily at the mass of foam they
were rapidly approaching.
You won't have to swim," said Long John,
" if you hang on tight."
It was too late to object, so they all drew a long
breath and "hung on tight," as advised. With
a mighty rush the boat plunged into the breakers,
now on top of one, again nearly buried under
another, now careening over so that the boys
sprang to the windward, and then luffing and
sliding close by one bare head of coral to avoid
another; covered with foam and spray, drenched
from head to foot and, almost before they could
catch their breath, they were over the shoal, safe
and sound, and tearing along in the smooth water
of the inner reef.
The boys drew a long breath. Well, what
kind of navigation do you call that ?" said Tom,
wiping the spray from his eye.
"Why, John," said the Professor, in some'sur-
prise, you cleared those heads only by about
six inches."
That's all the room there was, sir," replied
Long John with a grin. That 's a regular
channel, that is; we call it the 'five-foot channel.'
I 've been through when it was worse."
How did you know how to steer? asked Bob.
"Well," said Long John, "if you '11 promise
not to let on, I '11 tell you. Keep down the reef
until the Garden Key light is just on a line with
the third chimney of that big brick building of
the big fort: then let her drive, and, if you can
keep her head on, you 're all right."
And if you can't? interrupted Bob.
"Well, sir," said Long John, running alongside
the landing-place, it's one of the things it would
n't pay to miss it 's a bad place for sharks."

CHAPTER VII.

DURING the night the wind had shifted to the
north, and in the morning the wind was blowing a


780






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


gale. The cocoanut-trees in the fort were lashed
and torn, and the water, as far as the eye could
see, was a mass of boiling foam. This weather
continued for three days before the norther (as
this wind is called) was succeeded by a dead calm.
Then the boats were put in readiness for a trip, and
it was decided to start at Long Key and follow
along the entire length of the reef, which was now
piled with dead coral, weeds, and deep-sea shells
tossed up by the waves.
The party was soon ashore at Long Key, select-
ing many beautiful specimens from the numberless
richly colored weeds and shells strewed along the
sand. The univalves, or one-shelled specimens,
were the most numerous, but upon the pieces of
gorgonia many delicate bivalves of exquisite red
and blue tints were found.
Half-way up the Key, high and dry, lay an old
schooner that had been hauled up for repairs, years
before, and left there. As those in advance neared
her, they heard a shout from behind them, and
looking back saw a very unusual spectacle. Tom
Derby and Professor Howard, who had lingered
behind, were now rushing- along the beach as if
for dear life, while not a hundred yards behind
them, and running parallel with the Key, towered
a huge water-spout. Its top was lost in the clouds,
and with gigantic curves it came rushing on, hiss-
ing like a steam-engine and tearing up the shallow
bottom at a terrible rate. A race with a water-
spout is not a pleasant pastime. It. ran so close
upon them that its drippings gave them a complete
ducking. Thus far they had kept even with it,
but, as they began to shout, it had surged ahead,
arid changing its direction headed for the old
schooner in the Key. Tom and the Professor were
safe, but now the rest were in danger.
S"Run toward the spout and get behind it," yelled
Long John, hauling his boat off shore.
.-The boys ran past the spout, which was now
very near the shore, and when they were out of
harm's way, they turned to watch the monster's
progress. On it went with a rush, striking the
shore at an angle of about forty-five degrees, plow-
ing up the sand like a hurricane, hurling the old
boat into the trench thus dug, and then, with a
roar, was off and over the water on the other
side, scarcely leaving water enough on the island
to prove it had passed that way.
"Well, that was a close shave said Bob Car-
rington, shaking the sand from his clothes; and
the others fully agreed with him.
The line of march was again taken up, and
before long they reached the head of the island
where a narrow strait separated Long Key from
Bush Key. While stopping to overhaul a huge
pile of sea-weed their attention was attracted by


the comical, asthmatic cries for food made by
some young pelicans from their nests of drift-wood
in the mangrove-trees near by. The old birds
were hard at work, diving for fish in the lagoon.
The boys watched one, which was quite near them,
with considerable curiosity. It would flutter an
instant over its prey, then plunge down, and with
open, dip-net bill resting on the water would
adjust the catch in the capacious pouch beneath.
In one of these expeditions a gull, with trained
and eager eye, hovering near, settled down on
Papa Pelican's broad head, and as the fish was
tossed about so as to drop into the pelican's pouch,
the thievish gull would adroitly snap it up and sail
away with a derisive "ha, ha!" while the pelican,
as if accustomed to this sort of pocket-picking,
simply flapped heavily up again to renew its search
for food. But the gull, as the boys speedily saw,
had laughed all too soon. For down upon it from
the neighboring shore swooped a strong-winged
fish-hawk. With a shrill cry of alarm, the gull
darted now this way and now that, in zigzag lines,
striving with all his power to escape. Fear and
fatigue prevailing, he let his choice stolen morsel
slip from his grasp. Then the hawk, with a lower
swoop, clutched the falling fish and bore it away
to the nearest rock.
"So the struggle for existence goes on," said
the Professor, and turning from hawks and gulls
the party continued their search for specimens.
Tom Derby drew back with an exclamation of
pain as, attempting to pick up a big black echinus,
or sea-urchin, one of the needle-like spines pierced
his unwary fingers.
"They belong to the starfish family," the
Professor explained, as Tom nursed his wounded
hand. "There is another of the same class," he
continued, pointing to a large worm-like animal
coiled in a pool.
"Take it, Vail; one is enough for me, I won't
be selfish !" said Tom, dryly.
Vail, with Tom's discomfiture in mind, poked
it cautiously with his foot, and finally picked it up.
It looked like a large caterpillar, covered with
wrinkles and armed on the under side with an
array of queer, short tentacles.
It is the trepang, a holothurian," said the Pro-
fessor, "and a regular article of diet with the
Chinese."
Hallo,- see here cried Bob Carrington, as
the wriggling trepang, which he had taken from
Vail's unwilling grasp, suddenly doubled up, and
from its open mouth shot out a slender stream of
water; "is it a fish fire-engine, or a living squirt-
gun?"
"And oh, look at that," shouted half a dozen
excited voices, as out of the trepang's mouth a


1889.]






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


queer, fish-like head appeared, followed by an eel- the kindly offices of this inside boarder, the trepang
like body, white and ghostly. could not live. However that may be, the situation
Bob dropped the fish in some trepidation. is a curious one. We should learn from such dis-
"Goodness gracious "he cried, "I must coveries to study humbly the works of nature, set-
have squeezed out its very soul! ting aside all preconceived notions of how things
But the Professor quickly ought to be. Only by patient observation can
picked this strange true knowledge be gained."
visitor from the Wandering along the reef, they came
sand, and suddenly to the five-foot chan-
placed itin / nel" through which Long John
a glass of had so skillfully carried them
water the day before. Here the
beauty of the corals and
gorgonias caused them
to remain for some
time, and then they
pulled out to an old
-. -wreck that lay in
shoal water, a
-- quarter of a mile
:" ~_.._ ...... .:,~_ .~ away.
It proved to be
the remnant of a
very large ship.
Part of the lower







r -- -- "


"It is a fish within a fish," he explained,-""a
boarder in the trepang, and, as you will see, short-
lived out of its proper sphere."
The curious animal was a perfectly formed five-
inch fish, so transparent that its internal organs
could be seen; but evidently out of its element;
for, even as the Professor spoke,
it gave a few struggles in the
water, sank to the bottom, and
died.
The trepang, as you will see ___
upon dissecting it," said Professor
Howard, "has a double intes-
tine, in one part of which this
creature, called the Fierasfer acus, resides. He
seems to be a sort of digestive assistant, as he prob-
ably lives upon the food taken in by the trepang.
Indeed, it is asserted by naturalists that, but for


THE DEFRAUDED PELICAN.
deck remained, and evidently for years had been
a favorite resting-place for the birds. The whole
framework was rotten and shaky, and this was
speedily found to be due to the fact that the sub-


782'






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


merged portion of the wreck was literally honey-
combed with the tubes of the teredo navalis, or
ship-worm. Were it not that these persistent
borers had lined the holes they made, with a sort
of deposit that strengthened the wooden partitions
a little, the whole mass of woodwork would long
since have fallen to pieces.
After Long John had arranged the contents of
the dinner hamper on the dry portion of the wreck,
and the boys had enjoyed a feast of hard-boiled
gulls' eggs, crawfish salad, and turtle sandwiches,
which caused them to unanimously confer upon
Paublo the title Prince of Cooks," they continued
their search and their investigations about the old
hulk. Suddenly Hall, who was stretched out with
his head over the water, where he could observe
the fish, cried out, "My, though!- there's a
queer fish," and the other boys crowding around
him saw a large head like that of an eel bobbing
in and out from under a partly imbedded plank.
That 's a murry," said Long John, picking up
his grains, and a big one, too. Look out there !
Let me take a shot at him."
Lowering his spear cautiously into the water, he
suddenly jammed it into the fish's head, and then,
with a quick, backward motion, skillfully drew the
murry out of its hole. It was over four feet long,
and as thick as a man's arm. It made a terrible
struggle, twining about the grains, tearing off
pieces of the old wreck, and when hauled half-way
on deck, it fastened its teeth in the wood and held
on with the grip of a bull-dog.
Why, it's a regular sea-serpent," said Tom.
"Yes, and there he goes cried Long John,
as with a loud report the pole snapped in two,
and the ugly monster darted away. Bob Carring-
ton seized his grains and vaulted to a long head of
coral toward which the murry had gone. There
he could see the fish writhing around the coral,
and making desperate efforts to detach the steel
barbs. Moving as near as he could, Bob sent his
spear into the murry and with a vigorous jerk
drew it to the coral head, where it leaped and
twisted, sending the water in all directions. Long
John, in the boat, pushed over to Bob, and soon
quieted the struggling fish with a blow from his
axe.
He's the biggest fellow I ever saw," said he.
" Just look at his teeth "

CHAPTER VIII.

THEY tossed their enormous prize aboard the
wreck, and when, soon after, they started for their
quarters, Professor Howard gave the boys some
interesting facts concerning it.
The Murenidce, or murries," he said, "are,


as you see, only a species of great eels. They are
historic. They were deified by the Egyptians.
The Romans kept them in great stews, or storage-
ponds, trained them as pets, and held them to be
a special delicacy as food. In the time of Augus-
tus Caesar, condemned slaves were thrown to the
ferocious fish as food; and when Augustus was
declared Dictator, one of his courtiers presented
the populace with six thousand of these murries
taken from his ponds. So you see, Bob, our big
friend, the murry, is worth fighting for and worth
preserving."
The tide-gate of the moat, on the southern side
of the fort, was a famous place to observe fishes
and alga going out with the tide. The morn-
ing after their visit to the wreck, the boys were
seated or stretched along the moat, in various
attitudes suggestive of little to do, intercepting
numerous specimens floating out to sea.
Say, boys," said Hall, "would n't it be a
splendid place to keep a shark, here in the moat ? -
plenty of water and no way of his getting out."
"A good plan," said Ramsey; let 's do it."
"First catch your hare, Hall," suggested the
Professor, who just then came among them.
"The place is a good one, but it means hard
work and some risk. We '11 talk with Long John
about it. Meantime, when this tide runs out, why
not make out to the shoal and find some more
of those Tellina radiata that Hall discovered yes-
terday ? "
The suggestion was readily accepted, and while
waiting the falling of the tide, Eaton, who was
lying prone on the bridge with his face near to
the water, said, These little jew-fishes seem
to make a nest for themselves, Professor. I 've
been watching one for some time, and it seems to
pick up pieces of dead coral and bits of sand with
its fins and tail and then scoop out a hollow and
settle down as an old hen does upon her eggs."
Yes, you are right, Eaton," said the Profes-
sor, it is a nest. Many fishes build such nests. It
seems to be a regular hen-like hatching of eggs;
and, after the young fish-chicks are out, the
mother is as ferocious and untiring a guardian of
her children as any hen in a farmyard."
The tide had now fallen sufficiently to enable
the boys to wade out to the shoal, and they were
soon at work digging up the beautiful shells
called tellina radiata. These are marked in a
rich imitation of the sun's rays with gaudy color-
ings. Indeed, Long John firmly maintained that
the shells owed their decoration to the rays
that shot across the sky during the gorgeous
sunsets, for which the locality around the Florida
Keys is noted. The tellina radiata, or sun-shells,
are in shape much like the soft clams of the North,






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


but wonderfully polished, and ornamented with
ray-markings that spring from near the hinge,
growing wider as they reach the lip of the shell.
They were found at the bottom of a round hole
about two inches in diameter and two feet deep,
and were invariably dead with a hole bored in
each, showing the death to be the work of some
parasite.
This looks as if the natica, or welk, had been
at work here," said the Professor. "It has a won-
derful arrangement of teeth, or grinders, with which
it bores circular holes in the clams and devours
them at leisure. By the way, the natica is a nest-
builder, such as we were mentioning. Those collar-
shaped pieces of sand that you have found on the
Northern beaches are the nests in which the natica
deposits her eggs."
Here a shout from Long John and Bob Rand,
who were out on the sea-wall, caused the boys to
look up quickly.
Look out yonder," shouted Long John, point-
ing toward Long Key. "The Jacks are beating."
Following the direction of his finger, the boys
looked toward Long Key and witnessed a singular
sight. All around the shore the water was in the
greatest commotion, though there was a dead calm
elsewhere. Large bodies were seen leaping into the
air and falling down into the sea with a noise that
could be distinctly heard at a great distance.
Why, they 're fish! cried Raymond.
"Come on, boys," shouted Vail, and seizing their
grains they all scrambled into the boats and headed
for Long Key, which Long John and Bob Rand had
now nearly reached.
"Just look at those fish," cried Tom Derby.
"Why, there are millions of 'em."
He was not far wrong. All along the shore the
"Jacks "- a species of mackerel-had driven in a
school of sardines, and so crazed were they with
the excitement of pursuit that they were leaping
into the air, darting through the solid mass of ter-
rified sardines, and throwing themselves on the
beach, by hundreds. The sardines literally packed
the shore, for four or five feet, and out over the water
they were leaping in the air followed by the larger
"Jacks," who paid not the least attention to the
new-comers.
All the party were soon at work in this strangest
kind of fishing.
"Give it to them," cried Tom, as he struck a
ten-pounder and flung it on the beach. Bob Car-
rington struck at one in mid-air, and at that moment
a large "Jack" leaped plump against his legs and
tumbled him headlong into the mass of flounder-
ing fish.
Long John and Bob Rand were standing knee-
deep among the sardines, grasping the mackerel in


their hands and flinging them on the beach; but
when the boys tried this primitive way of fishing,
the sharp dorsal fins pierced their hands and made
them bleed.
You need tough hands for this sport," said Bob
Rand, and the boys agreed with him.
The "beating" did not abate in the least. Clouds
of gulls hovered over the spot and darted down into
the mass of fish, while a number of pelicans, includ-
ing Long John's clumsy pet, were diving among the
fish and filling their capacious pouches.
Finally, when all were tired out with capturing
this enormous catch of fish, and Long John and
Bob were at work storing the game on the flat-boats
to carry the fish away for cleaning and salting
down, the boys climbed into the boats again and
pulled leisurely back to the fort.
West of Long Key stretched a reef. About four
feet of water covered its clean, white sand, on which
any object could be seen at quite a distance. As
they pushed the boats along with the grains, the
boys would occasionally drop over and dive for
conches and other shells.
"What are those round things, shells or stones ?"
asked Woodbury as the boat passed over some
curious oval objects protruding from the sand.
Bob Carrington saw them also, and, saying, Hold
on a minute," dropped over the side of the boat.
Diving down, he inserted his hand under them
and brought several of them to the surface.
"This is an interesting find," said Professor
Howard, as Bob clambered into the boat with his
prize. "They are called sea-squirts, from their
habit of ejecting water. They seem to occupy a
position in life between the worm and the lowest
backbone animals. These specimens are what we
call ascidians, and their class name is Tunicala.
They have a stomach, liver, and nervous-system
besides, and a most accommodating heart that,
when tired of beating one way, stops and goes the
other, so to speak, throwing the blood in the
other direction."
"Hallo, there are a lot of coral-heads," said
Tom, who was poling with his grains in the bow.
Oh, no. These can't be coral-heads, here," said
the Professor, as he looked toward the black
spots indicated by Tom, and then he added, I
thought as much. They are black sharks, or
' merse,' as they are called. Keep quiet, and we
can go directly over them. Their scientific name
is Ginglymostoma, meaning hinge-mouthed, and
referring to some peculiarity of the jaw. They
have small mouths and keep in herds, like cattle,
and sleep, as those below us are doing, on the
great sandy plains of the reef. If there is a small
one there, we might try to catch it."
My, though! cried Tom, growing excited.


784






AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS.


"There are over a hundred down there, and
they're all lying still."
The boats were now directly over the sharks.
The fish were a dark chocolate color, and many of
them apparently over ten feet long. As yet they
had not taken the alarm, but, in his eagerness to
see them, Ramsey slipped on the gunwale, and in


great rate; now taking a turn around an oar and
whisking through Tom's fingers, and finally, in the
confusion, twisting itself around Bob's leg and
throwing him off his feet. Then the line became
taut, and off darted the boat, towed by the shark.
"Take the line off before I 'm hauled over-
board," screamed Bob.


/ I
--.,-- 2:~-


"TOM WENT HEADLONG OVER THE BOW."


an instant they all dashed away, stirring up clouds
of sand and rushing by wildly in every direction.
Tom could resist no longer and, as a large one
crossed the bow, he let fly the grains.
"Look out, boys!" he cried, paying out the
line. "Keep clear of the rope!"
This was more easily said than, done, as the
rope was rushing out, whirling and turning at a


The boys were laughing loudly over Bob's pre-
dicament, but they managed to release him, and
again Tom lost his hold upon the line. The rope
was nearly.run out now, and as the piece of wood
to which it was attached dashed over the side, Tom
grabbed at it, lost his balance, and with the end
of the rope in his hand went headlong, with a
great splash, over the bow of the boat.


(To be continued.)


VOL. XVI.-50.


785











SUMMER HOLIDAY THOUGHTS.


BY C. B. GOING.


I WISH that I were a flower, to sway
In some sweet field, where a stream was
flowing:
To have no lessons at all to say,
But to watch how the white clouds floated away,
And sweetened the sweet winds blowing.

I 'd like to sail with the breeze, and blow
Through wide blue skies, where the clouds run
races:
To strew the orchards with summer snow,
And murmur a lullaby, soft and low,
In the quiet and shady places.


I think that flowers can see,- don't you ?
And the soft white clouds, I am sure, are
Splaying;
The wind can talk to the grasses, too,
For I 've listened and watched, and I 'm sure they
do;
I almost can tell what they're saying.

And when I sit in the fields, and see
The long grass wave, when the breezes blow it,
I'm just as glad as a girl can be;
And the daisies are glad, too, it seems to me,
And nod their heads to show it.


-a--c -- -. -


-L7-


AN AUGUST DAY AT THE SEA-SHORE.


~ iC~L i~aQ~OJ~i~-~Zl~er~ ~
_-
~~v~--
c ~5~X ~
aiii








HE BUNNY STORIES.
THE BUNNIES' GARDEN.

BY JOHN H. JEWETT.

PART I.
THE garden at Deacon Bunny's was a real
-garden.
t :,It was not one of the "Keep off the grass"
S nor the "Do not handle" kind, where
the walks and flower-beds are as prim
and regular as a checkerboard; but a
garden to work in, to rest in, and to enjoy.
Gaffer Hare, who was called Deacon Bunny's farmer, was the
head-gardener; but all the Bunnies were gardeners also, and
they had one or more plats each, to keep in order, in which
they planted what they liked best.
The only rule the Deacon made was that the Bunnies
should take good care of what they called their own, and
should see to it that the weeds did not rob the flowers
of what rightfully belonged to them.
"Weeds will grow anywhere that flowers can .
grow," said the Deacon, and all that is best and
loveliest, and really worth having, needs con-
stant care and work to make it thrive."
Of all the Bunnies, Pinkeyes loved flowers
care of them best, and for this reason and
was Gaffer's favorite.
He never tired of telling her of the
of plants and shrubs and the bestway *
'Gaffer did not know theirbotan-
other word of Latin, but he loved
just what each needed to make
be all.the best flower or plant
In one corner of their
had been allowed to run ove
of low bower, where Gaffe
These pets were ;only t
them, calling them his quie
They were not molested i
the plants, and Gaffer often
catching flies and feeding
tamer and i,-ll'4. more friendly,
them open a~_.,' 0,,.' their queer mou
the flies, : ,. orsit staring like a
Sf e ", "l:''l- when thevwe


GAFFER S WATCH-DOGS.


Cuddledown said she d
ugly creatures among th
Gaffer told her the toad
S pretty, and, next to the bir
in destroying the insects and
Then Cousin Jack told them an
in the Toad's Head," and added
good lesson, for beauty often shone
folks saw only the plain and comm


'LI


A


and the
others, she


many varieties
to treat them.
ical names, nor any
the plants, and knew
it grow or blossom and
of its kind could be.
;arden, a wild grapevine
r the wall and form a kind
r kept some odd pets.
oads, but Gaffer prized
t watch-dogs.
n their corner, nor among
amused the Bunnies by
the toads, to make them
or for the fun of seeing
ths, blink, and swallow
Chinese jdol.
re all watching the toads,
lid not like to see such
e lovely flowers.
s were harmless, if not
ds, were his best helpers
other pests of the vines.
old myth of the "Jewel
:hat Gaffer's toads were a
through, where careless
lonplace.






THE BUNNY STORIES.


Bunnyboy said he supposed it must be true, if
Cousin Jack said so, but that he failed to see any
beauty shining through a toad, and Cousin Jack
replied that there were a great many kinds of
beauty, and that outward show was not a proof
of inward grace.
"The flowers," said Cousin Jack, "teach us
one lesson of beauty, and perhaps the toads an-
other, for it is something to be useful and harm-
less in a world like ours."
"The real ugly things," said he, are oftener
found living in houses than out in the beautiful
gardens and fields."
Browny asked him what things he meant, and
he replied, I did not really mean 'things,' but
thoughts and motives, like deceit, selfishness,
pride, and hatred."
Pinkeyes, who had been listening to all this,
said she wondered if some of the little flies and
bugs destroyed by the toads were not harmless and


Mother Bunny liked to work in the garden
among the flowers as well as the others, but found
little time for this kind of recreation, for she was
always busy in doing or planning for the rest of
the household.
She often used the time spent with them in the
garden as "a moment to do a little mending for
the children," which really meant stitching a lot
of love and patience over all the worn and torn
places in their clothing, that her four beloved
little Bunnies might be fresh and tidy every day
in the week.



id--'- "-
-C '. ,: -

1, .


~l".:os~Y~ t I 'V e ;V I:- Id
-Ad "...,
~-* I .~ '"I-j '.;:-et. -zd .
''x. FiFt1


BUNNYBOY AND BROWN TRY TO DRIVE THE GOATS OUT OF THE GARDEN.


useful, too, if only we knew the whole truth about
them.
Gaffer coughed and looked at Cousin Jack, who
seemed somewhat puzzled for a minute.
Presently he answered Pinkeyes by saying,
"That is a good suggestion, my dear, and no
doubt it is true, for the more we think about the
wonders of the world we live in, the more we learn
of their use and beauty."
Just then Mother Bunny came out with her
sewing, to get a breath of the sweet summer air,
and the Bunnies gave her the best seat in the
shadiest nook, where she could watch them at
their work.


'i"' It was at her sug-
gestion that Pinkeyes
and Cuddledown pick-
ed all the freshest
blossoms in their gar-
dens every Wednesday
morning, and carried
them to the Flower
Mission in the village,
whence they were sent
to cheer the sick-rooms
and to gladden the
hearts of the old and
feeble in both villages.


The Bunnies always enjoyed "Mission Morn-
ing," as they called it, and though they never
knew just where the flowers were sent, they felt
sure, at least, that they made life brighter for some
one, somewhere, for a little while.

PART II.

STRANGE VISITORS IN THE GARDEN.

THE flowers occupied only a part of the inclos-
ure the Bunnies called their garden.
Beyond the flower-beds was a large field where
Gaffer raised many vegetables for the home table.


788






THE BUNNY STORIES.


Bunnyboy and Browny each had a share in this
field, and enjoyed planting, weeding, hoeing, and
harvesting their own crops of vegetables.
The Deacon told them a little real work was a
good thing for boys, and gave them all the land
they could use, and all they could raise on it, for
their own, to sell or give away.
Sometimes they sold a few early vegetables, or
berries, but oftener found some poor family to
make glad with a basket of fresh things of the
Bunnies' own raising.
Later in the season they always saved some of


They all came rushing into the garden, and then
excitement began in earnest.
Each Bunny ran shouting after the goats, and
the terrified kids dashed first one way, and then
another, over the beds and vines, half wild with
fright, while the anxious Mother Nanny ran help-
lessly bleating after them.
Round and round the garden they went, dash-
ing in every direction but the right one, toward
the gate, until nearly every bed had been trampled
by their sharp hoofs, and the poor creatures were
panting with fear and distress.


GAFFER COAXES THE GOATS THROUGH THE GATE.


each kind to send to the village Almoner as a
Thanksgiving offering to the needy.
It was not a great deal to do, but the Bunnies
enjoyed thinking that they had done something
with their own hands to make Thanksgiving-day
more truly a day of thanksgiving for somebody in
the world.
One morning, a few days after the talk about
the toads, Bunnyboy went to the garden early to
begin his work.
He found the gate wide open, and on going in
he saw a mother-goat and two kids nibbling his
young pea-vines.
Runningback to the house, he called the other
Bunnies to come and help him drive out the goats.


Fortunately, Gaffer heard the din and racket
and came to the rescue, before the garden was
quite torn up.
Calling the Bunnies to the gate,,he told them to
be quiet and keep out of sight, and let him catch
the goats in a quieter and quicker way.
Gaffer then took a wooden measure with some
coarse salt in it, and shaking it gently, he called
in a low voice: Co-boss! Co-boss Co-boss! "
until the mother-goat came slowly up to him and,
after a moment's hesitation, began to lick the salt
from his hand.
The kids soon followed their mother to the gate,
and, in less than half the time the Bunnies had
taken in trying to drive them out, Gaffer had






THE BUNNY STORIES.


coaxed them through the gate, and sent them
trotting off to their pasture on the hill.
No one knew who had left the gate open, but
suspicion fell on Browny, as he was the last one to
leave the garden the night before, and also because
he was often heedless in little things.
Cousin Jack said the goat might have opened
the gate herself, for about the only thing an able-
bodied goat could not do in the way of sight-seeing,
was to climb a tree.
Gaffer looked at the havoc made in the garden,
and said it would take a week to undo the mischief
they had done in five minutes.
Cousin Jack turned to Gaffer and slyly asked him
whom he meant by they," -the goats or the Bun-
nies? and Gaffer replied, "Both "


Then Cousin Jack said, "Well, well the goats
did not know any better, and the Bunnies did the
best they knew then."
"Another time," said he, "I hope they will
remember that the quietest way is usually the best
way, and that bustle and noise and needless flour-
ish are usually a waste of time and strength."
Gaffer said that he had always found that
" Come," caught more. goats than "Go," besides
being an easier way.
Cousin Jack smiled and told the Bunnies that
the sight of those trampled and torn flower-beds
and the example that Gaffer had shown them was
a better lesson than he could teach from the text
of, "How not to do it," and that each one of them
would do well to make a note of it in their diaries.


(To be continued.)



















C -
, c S yW /

ii' ~


{f$) IMII


BY 0. HEiFORD.


i i THE fairy-tale'was ended, the wicked Queen had
fled;
The Prince had saved the Princess and cut off
I the monster's head;.
..i i" / The people all were joyful, and the Princess and
the Prince
Were married and-so ran the tale-"lived
happy ever since."
S Nell closed the book of fairy-tales and mused:
3 I wonder why
There are no fairies nowadays? I only wish
that I
Could be a fairy princess like the Princess Goldenhair."
Here Nell dropped off to sleep, and then she started in her'chair,
When, of its own accord, the book popped open, and behold !
Out crept a wee elf-princess all arrayed in cloth of gold;
She sighed a:little tired sigh and then Nell heard her say;
In a tiny tired little voice, that sounded far away:
" Oh, dear! how very nice it is for once to get outside.
You 've no idea how flat it is, my dear, until you 've tried,
To be shut up in a story-book with Dragons, Queens, and Kings,
And always have to do and say the same old, senseless things;
You think it would be very fine, but really it 's no joke
I'd rather be a girl, like you --"
Then little Nell awoke.
" Poor Princess Goldenhair," said she,-" unhappy little elf,
I 'm rather glad, upon the whole, that I am just myself "


Z/

























CORNISH LULLABY.


OUT on the mountain over the town,
All night long, all night long,
The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
Bearing their packs and crooning a song;
And this is the song the hill-folk croon
As they trudge in the light of the misty moon:
"Gold, gold! ever more gold-
Bright red gold for dearie !"


Deep in the hill the yeoman delves,
All night long, all night long;
None but the peering, furtive elves
See his toil and hear his song;
Merrily over the cavern rings
As merrily over his pick he swings,
And merrily over his song he sings;
Gold, gold! ever more gold -
Bright red gold for dearie! "


Mother is rocking thy lowly bed,
All night long, all night long -
Happy to smooth thy curly head
And to hold thy hand and to sing her song;
'T is not of the hill-folk, dwarfed and old,
Nor the song of the yeoman, stanch and bold,
And the burden it beareth is not of gold;
But it's "Love, love nothingbut love -
Mother's love for dearie "
Eugene Field, in Chicago News.


A DUCAL HOME FOR THE BLIND.

BY ELLA F. MOSBY.

HAVE you any idea how many blind people there are
in the world? Statisticians say 1,400,000 totally blind,
without reckoning other thousands who are partially
blind. Most of these are poor and ignorant people, for
children may lose their sight from neglect and misman-
agement, and adults often becomeblind because their work
ruins the eyes : as cameo-cutters, engravers, and sewing-


women. It is only within a hundred years that there
have been schools for the blind, and the whole number
is less than a hundred, much fewer than are needed.
One beautiful home for the blind, or rather a hospital,
for they are brought there to be cured, is in a palace -
the villa of the Duke of Bavaria, at Meran. It happened
in this way: The Duke is a skilled oculist, and has a
tender compassion for the blind peasants, whose lives
are so dreary and colorless. His wife, a Portuguese
princess, shares this feeling, and is his able assistant in
his operations. The Princess soothes the poor pa-
tients who are frightened or nervous, and explains their
troubles to her husband, for many are so ignorant that
it is hard to understand their uncouth dialect. She is
especially loving with children.
She also aids to keep'patients quiet and obedient, for
it is not easy to care for them during convalescence. Ab-
solute quiet is necessary--they must not move hands,
nor feet, nor head. Sometimes they swallow only liquid
food given by the nurse. This is to avoid movement of
the jaws.
The Duke has succeeded in giving sight to several
children born blind. When first their sight is restored,
they are as helpless as infants, and still rely upon the
familiar sense of touch. One small girl was seen, after
a long look at a table, to approach and stroke it with
her fingers. The duchess showed one little boy her
watch, but until he had touched it he could not tellwhether
it was round or square. Many children, when beginning
to see, can not go down-stairs alone, and for a while are
more helpless than when blind; but how different their
lives soon become!
The Duke's first hospital was near his palace on the
lake at Tegernsee, some thirty miles from Munich. But
he was not strong, and physicians sent him to Meran,
where the climate is milder. So many blind peasants
came to the town hospital that he could not receive
them, but now they are at his own villa and have most
assiduous care. During one visit to Meran, the Duke
had as assistant the grandson of the German poet Riick-
ert. The peasants of the three neighboring valleys are
devoted to the Duke, and Margaret Howitt has written
a charming account of the night in May when peasants
kindled beacon-fires in his honor on every peak and hill
and high point. Though a pouring rain put out the
fires, they none the less proved the inextinguishable
love glowing in the hearts of the grateful people.
792






THE ST. NICHOLAS SCRAP-BOOK.


793


AN ATHLETIC SPELLING LESSON. column, and you have that most eloquent of all the words
in the language of home and children.-The Memphis
Daily Avalanche.
Two bright little girls, one seven and the
other five years of age, form an important arc
S of the family circle of a member of the Ava- ii
lance staff. The eldest has quite an invent-
ive turn of mind, and finds in her younger
sister an apt pupil. An evening or two
since, tiring of books and slates,
They concluded to pursue their
studies in another way. Look,
Papa, we are going to spell
with ourselves! cried one of
them. Where they got the idea nobody knows. Per-
haps it was an inspiration. The eldest took the lead.
Standing straight up, with her arms by her sides, she
called to her smart little assistant to lie down on the
carpet. It was done in a moment. Did anybody know
what letter it was ? Plain as day, the letter L. '1

The second letter was not so
easily made. They put their little
feet together,.clasped hands, bent
themselves backward --tried a i
S dozen ways, but, as the mirror a I
few feet away informed them when
it was consulted from time to
time, they were not successful.
Suddenly one of them tripped
away, returning in a moment with her big hoop. Press-
ing themselves close to the hoop upon either side, with
their curly heads over the top, the result was not only a
very pretty picture, but a perfect letter O.

Now for the third letter, and
Really it did not seem to be much '
/1/ easier than the second. There
were two or three quite severe
falls, but it was no time for tears,
and so very determined were they
to succeed that they took no no-
tice of what would have been
reason enough for giving up all thought of play, at another
time, and so at last they succeeded. It was very easy.
The jumping rope solved the problem and made. of the -
pair a very picturesque V.

It was useless to pretend ignorance
any longer of the word they were try-
ing to spell. The last letter was the
most difficult of all. How it was to
be done, Papa was obliged to own to
himself, he did not see. By stand-
ing with their faces to each other,
three feet apart, bending over until
the tops of their heads touched and holding an arm straight
down, they made the letter, but it was not upright. After
many trials, however, they succeeded in making, as the
illustration shows, an excellent E. A ( P UN HIN
Hold the page at arm's length, glance down the












FLOWER LADIES.

BY ELIZABETH ISLAND.


DID any of you little people ever play "Flower
Ladies ?
I have :nade many inquiries, and never found
any children but :those of -my own family who
knew about the game. It was the delight of my
childhood, and now that I am gro'ui up and can
n6t.play it myself, and have no babies of my own
to teach it to, I begin to fear that the beautiful
game will be lost.
It began in this way. I: lived with my sister,
when we were little, down--ever so far down-
in Louisiana; so near the Gulf of Mexico that
when the evening breezes blew we could smell the
salt sea-air. It was on a sugar plantation.
On the left of the big, square, white house in
which we lived was the garden. It covered four
or five acres, and was inclosed with hedges of
pyracanth covered with sweet, white blossoms
in the spring and bunches of red berries in the
autumn. Where the garden.sloped down to the
wide, sleepy, brown hbayou was a long row of ba-
nana trees that rustled -in the wind their great
satiny, green leaves, which served us for hats, and
flags, and even for letter paper, for we wrote notes
on them with thorns out of the hedge.
Above the bananas, on the crest of the slope,
was a row of picayune-rose bushes, with their
myriads of dear little miniature blossoms. And
then there was all the big beautiful garden. It
was laid out in beds of every shape imaginable,
with walks between covered with white shells.
But it was n't a prim, formal garden at all, for
we were allowed to do anything we wished there,
and I think it must have been because we loved it
so and lived in it so much, that we invented the
play of Flower Ladies," to suit the place and
give us an excuse for staying there. It was a
place of perfumes. I am sure you never saw
roses grow as ours did. They rioted everywhere
without check. They climbed up in the trees,
and spread over the walks, and bloomed out into
,thousands and thousands of .roses all at once,
almost as many at Christmas time as in the spring.
Then there were the sweet-olive trees, and three
kinds of magnolia trees, and every sort of jasmine,
and Japan plum trees. When they all bloomed,
Flora Ann, the old native African negro, used to
say that "the garden wuz des 'luminated."


This was the way we played. We gathered
roses with stems about two inches long and set
them down on their petals, and any one can see in
a minute that they then became beautiful ladies,
v.ith tall, slender figures, lovely pink or crimson,
satin or velvet, skirts and-little green overskirts.
The men were thorns from the hedge, which
stood up very nicely. when, stuck in the ground, or
else they. were bits of stick; but they were rather
stiffand:unbending,- were these gentlemen,- and
really played a ery insrignificart part in the-flower
ladies households.
The houses in \hich the ladies lived 'ere of the
very simplest architecture; just bits of stick or
blades of grass laid together in squares to inclose
rooms and halls. A green leaf made a pretty bed,
and tiny flat pebbles furnished beautiful chairs.
Then a chip served excellently for a grand mahog-
any table, and upon very small mud-pies, frosted
with sand, and mud chocolate-custards, in acorn-
cups, and loaves of mud-bread, the flower ladies
lived luxuriously.
Our ladies were divided into two families. My
sister's family always bore the surname of Grey,
arndmi-ne.was called Graham. The big Solfaterre
-roses with the thick loose petals 'were the grand-
mothers, because they had wide laps for the babies
to rest upon. The common damask-roses were
nice comfortable mothers, who were careful lest the
children should get their feet wet, and always had
ready lovely mud-pies for the children when they
came home from school.
'The Gloire-de-France roses were the sweet young
aunts, named Mabel, or Irene, and the moss-roses
and old-fashioned thorn-roses were the ugly-
tempered aunts, called Jane or Maria.
There was a rose-bush thatbore verylong, slender
white buds, and one of these buds, because it
could n't stand up well, was always a girl named
Kate, who had hurt her spine. Lying on the
orange-leaf sofa, she bore her sufferings with
touching fortitude.
Next came the children. The Greys 'and Gra-
hams had very large families. The picayune-roses
came in here, the fullest-blown kind being the
eldest girls of about twelve, and from these they
went down through various ages to the tiny, tiny
bud that was the new-born baby rocked to sleep in






FLOWER LADIES.


a velvety rose-leaf, and so sensitive that all the
little flower children had to tread lightly for fear of
waking her.
Such lovely times those Greys and Grahams had !
They went sailing on a big magnolia leaf in the
garden ditch, or visited each other, driving up in a
banana-leaf carriage; or danced at big balls, or gave
splendid dinner-parties. Perhaps the best fun of
ai were the christenings and the burials. When the
Grey and Graham babies were old enough, every-
body drove to the grand church built for the occa-
sion, and there they were baptized. The font was a
white rose-leaffilled with water, and there was al-
ways so much excitement over choosing a name for
the new baby and such a supper afterward, with
quantities of christening-cups of acorn-ware coming
in every moment, that there was n't anything but
a funeral that was nearly as interesting.
When somebody's stem broke, or the leaves
dropped off,- which happened frequently, the body
was carefully wrapped in a banana-leaf and hauled
away to the grave in a Japan-plum-leaf hearse.
And there were sermons and hymns, and the flower
ladies cried dreadfully, and did i't give any more
parties for a long time.
When yve were kept in the house by rain, a serv-
ant went out with an umbrella and fetched us in
lots of roses, and then we.played flower ladies in
more artificial style.
The furniture was made of pasteboard, of a kind
with which every little girl is familiar.


All the family wore dresses cut from tissue-paper,
just oval pieces with a little hole in the middle to
put the stems through. The children's school-
dresses were simply pieces of plain paper, but their
elders wore elaborate costumes cut in open-work
patterns-a sort oflace oe dresses, through which
the pink or red satin skirts could be seen.
While Mamma and.Grandmamma were supposed
to cut out these beautiful frocks, the children were
at school, and Irene and Mabel, the kind aunts, sat
at the little sea-shell piano and sang one of these
two songs (which seemed to be the only ones they
knew):
Over the far blue mountain,
Over the white sea foam,
Come, thou long parted one,
Come to thy home !.
or,
Gayly the troubadour
Touched his guitar
As he was hastening home from the war,
"Singing from Palestine gladly I roam,
Lady-love, Lady-love, welcome me home! "

The great charm of this play was that everything
could be swept away in a moment. There was no
trouble of putting away playthings; and then every-
thing was fresh and new each day.
We used roses, because we had so many, all the
year, but crocuses or daffodils or daisies (and red
clovers) make nearly as lovely flower ladies.


WATER-LILIES.


795










THE LETTER-BOX.


CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the x5th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently be
examined ,at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the magazine with contributions
will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.


MILTON, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I read Jack-in-the-Pulpit's
paragraph about dolls that talk, in a recent number of
ST. NICHOLAS, and write to tell you of the one I saw.
It was about fifteen inches tall, I should think, and
could say:
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go."

The words came out distinctly, and the effect was very
funny indeed.
The explanation is that there was a small phonograph
inside the doll's body, into which some one had spoken
the words quoted above. Then, by means of some ma-
chinery, when a spring was pressed, the cylinder, with
its indentations, was made to revolve, and the sounds
were repeated, causing the well-known lines to be heard.
The phonograph is a wonderful invention, and this
use to which it has lately been put is certainly very
amusing, if nothing else.
Of course, each doll may be made to say a different
thing, from Jack and Jill to the Declaration of In-
dependence." Imagine them'all talking at once !
Your very true friend, MARY A. T-- .
I


A VIGILANT critic, C. M. Woodward of Washington
University, St. Louis, Mo., finds errors in the following
paragraph from Ancient and Modern Artillery," pub-
lished in the April number:
"Now, the momentum or moving power of a body is
measured by the product of its weight and velocity.
Therefore, if this ram, when worked against a wall of
stone, was moved at the rate of two feet a second (a
moderate estimate), its force on striking the wall would
be 300,000 pounds, which would be exactly the same as
the force exerted by a weight of 300,000 pounds in fall-
ing from a height of one foot. That is, it would exert
greater power than any gun or cannon invented up to
the year 186o."
Mr. Woodward asserts that the true statement is, that
the energy of the battering-ram, which is the same as
would be exerted by 150,000 pounds falling t foot, is
9375 foot-pounds, or only h1 of that exerted by 300,000
pounds falling one foot. He says, also, that in 1860 many
guns sent 200oo-pound projectiles 1500 feet a second, or
with an energy of 7,031,560 foot-pounds-750 times
that of the battering-ram.


SAN AUGUSTINE, TEX.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in the eastern part of
Texas, in the old historical town of San Augustine, where
General Sam Houston lived awhile when he first came tc
this country, which was then a republic.


I am a boy fourteen years old, and have two brothers
and two sisters, Eugene and Guy, Sara and Itasca--all
younger than myself. I am very fond of hunting, and
have two guns and a dog.
You have been a welcome visitor to our home for
more than four years. We all enjoy looking at "The
Brownies" very much- the "dude" especially. Like
most of your readers, we think that Little Lord Faunt-
leroy is the best of your stories. .
Your admiring reader, EDDIE A. B-.


GALENA, ILL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have wanted for a long time
to tell you what a nice magazine you're. 'I have taken
you for several years and enjoy you very much. I only
wish you came oftener. I live in Galena, the old town
where General Grant psed to live. Mrs. Grant still
owns a house here. A great many noted men have
been connected with this town. Galena is something
like Rome, built on seven hills, although I am not sure
that there are exactly seven.
I am twelve years old, and the eldest of a family of four
children, and very fond of reading.
I kept a few geraniums this winter, and had wonderful
success with them. I am your loving reader,
ISABEL S-.

OAHE, DAK.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My brother takes you. We
all enjoy reading you very much. My favorite stories
are Little Lord Fauntleroy," "Juan and Juanita," and
"Sara Crewe."
We live on the Missouri River. I have made two trips
across the Reservation. The Indians have many queer
customs. I wonder if any of the readers ever heard of a
"Ghost give-away." When an Indian dies, some friend
or relative claims to possess his spirit. This relative can
not possess the spirit of the departed unless he keeps a
lock of his hair, with a piece of the scalp attached. A
tent is put up for the ghost to live in, and the relative
pretends to feed the ghost. While keeping the ghost he
Collects as many presents as he can. After a long while
he has a great feast and gives away all the things -
expecting to get something to pay for it after awhile.
Once, when I was on a trip, we camped near where there
was a ghost-tent. The man who owned the tent prom-
ised to take us into the tent,but when the time came he said
he would not unless we would take the ghost a cup of cof-
Sfee. And, of course, we could not do that, as the person
we were traveling with was a missionary. My father went
to see a "Ghost give-away" once. They had a large
feast and there were a great many people there. There
were gifts of all kinds from a small burro to a -needle
book. They gave about twenty ponies and a great many
war bonnets. The Indian had been three years in col-
lecting the things. They also gave moccasins, pipes,
belts, and various kinds of fancy-work, blankets, com-
forts, shawls, feather fans, and horn spoons. At a" give-
away," or Ghost feast," they always eat awhile, then
dance awhile, and then go back to the presents, and then
around the same way. For music (?) they have an old
796






THE LETTER-BOX.


bass-drum, which they pound on all the time, without any
regard to time. They all dance to the tune, which is no
tune at all. The old women who are too old to do any-
thing else sit around and sing. This "Give-away" I
speak of lasted three days. Some of the customs of the
Indians seem meaningless to us; but they must mean
something to the Indians or they would not devote so
much time and energy to them. Such customs are fast
dying away. The strongest features of their religion
seem to consist in punishing themselves.
I hope this will be as interesting to some as other
letters about strange places are to me.
Your Western reader, E. W. C-- .

WE take pleasure in printing in the Letter-box" the
accompanying sketches which a bright little girl sent to
her uncle. The title below is the one she gave them.


Bloody Island. There are many Indians' graves there
now, and arrow-heads have often been found there. We
have one of the prettiest views on the -lake from our
ranch. Mt. Konocti is directly opposite our place on
the other side of Clear Lake, and though it is twenty-
five or more miles away, on a clear day it does not look
ten. There are mountains all around us and pretty
farms and ranches. There is a most beautiful little
steamer on the lake. It is built after the model of the
" City of Tokio," but it is much smaller, of course, and
its name is the City of Lakeport." There are many
other steamers and yachts here, as the lake is an excel-
lent place for yacht races. We have a very pretty steam-
yacht. This is a very long letter, but as it is the first
letter I have ever written, I hope you will print it. I
love you very much, and your pretty stories. I think
your best story is Little Lord Fauntleroy."
Your devoted reader, MARGARET D. C-.


"MY EXCUSES FOR not WRITING A LETTER."


CLEAR LAKE, LAKE CO., CAL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I don't think you ever had a
letter-from here before. I live on a ranch which bor-
ders on the lake. I am a little girl ten years old, but
quite old enough to appreciate the beautiful scenery
around me. The space which is now covered with
water, hundreds of years ago was supposed to have been
the crater of a volcano. This supposition is most prob-
ably true, as shown by the fact that instead of having
sand or pebble beaches as lakes generally have, ours
have volcanic stones instead. These stones are very
pretty. They are usually flat and of a black, transpar-
ent substance. The Indians made their arrow-heads of
them at the time of the war with the Indians, thirty years
ago. The place where they had their most terrible fight
is not more than two miles from us. It is called


FORT DAVIS, TEXAS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am only ten years old. My
sister takes ST. NICHOLAS, and we all think it lovely.
I have a brother older than myself, and Papa gave us a
pony and carriage. We take turns in riding in the even-
ing, for we go to school all day and only have the even-
ings to ourselves with Saturday and Sunday. I also have
a sister who has a tiny white cat named "Muff," because
it looks just like one.
I like to feed our chickens and turkeys; we got them
when they were quite young. The turkeys will eat corn
from my hand. There is an old black, shaggy-looking
rooster that will also eat out of my hand; but the rooster
is not half so shaggy as the dark mountains that tower
at the back of the houses. They are the Apache Moun-
tains; and we children have plenty of fun climbing to


797






.THE LETTER-BOX.


the top of them. Great herds of goats roam over these
mountains, and also great numbers of burros. I suppose
not many of -the readers of ST. NICHOLAS have' seen
burros; they are something like mules, but shorter and
with ears four times as long.
I remain your constant reader, MELVILLE C-.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little boy, thirteen
years-of age. I live in Illinois. We have taken the
-ST. NICHOLAs since 1876. My father is mayor of a
city. I here give you an original poem, and I shall be
very much obliged if you will publish it:

S THE ITALIAN BOY.

Once upon the time. ofold,
There was a harp all made of gold,
Which an Italian boy did play,
He lived o'er hills so far away.

He lived by the side of a river;
And in the winter the boy did shiver.
SSo far away, the boy was cold,
SBecause his garments all were old.

The boy that lived in the time of old,
That had the harp all made of gold,
Took sick one day, by the riverside,
And then, oh, then he died, he died!
C. E. H-, JR..

ORANGE, N. J.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I inclose a paper that my
uncle sends to you. I have taken you for nearly five
years, and I like you very much. I have seen a great
many letters in the Letter-box but never written to
you before.
Yours truly, G. S. S--.

The names of the following six Presidents of the
United States contain, conjointly, all the letters of the
alphabet: George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John
Quincy Adams, Martin Van Buren, James Knox Polk,
Zachary Taylor.

WE are glad to print a few selections from the journal
of a young friend of ST. NICHOLAS, Richard Lawrence
Benson, of Philadelphia. The journal was written during
a trip to Europe in 1887, and was afterward printed for
circulation among his friends:
The-Zoo, in Holland, is very magnificent; they have
a fine collection of birds. While walking in the Zoo, a
bird snatched my ticket from my hand, but we got it
back.
After leaving The Hague, we went to Coblentz. We
stayed at the Hotel du Geant.
Ehrenbreitstein Castle is a large fortress on the
Rhine; it was opposite to our hotel. It is built on a
large rock. *
Berne is a very pretty place, we staid at the Hotel
Bernerhof. We went to the Bear Pit, and saw the bears
of Berne.
The Clock is one of the most interesting things. When
the Clock strikes the hour, a cock crows and flaps his
wings, a bear dances, little men walk round a circle, a
man stamp's his foot, and a man pulls a bell. On top of
the tower of the Clock is a figure of a man, striking with
a hammer the number of hours. *
We went from Geneva .to Vevay, and staid at the


Grand Hotel. The Castle of Chillon is a very large old
castle; it is on a rock extending into Lake Geneva. The
dungeons in the castle are very dark and lonely. The
prisoners sleep on the stone bed before they are executed.
Bonnivard was a prisoner in one of the dungeons a num-
ber of years; he wore a hole in the stone, by having his
feet in the same place so long.
The tortures were very severe; one was hanging the
prisoner up by his thumbs, and burning the soles of his
feet with very hot iron. a
SFrom Ziirich we went to Munich, and stayed at the
Bayerischer. One morning we went to see the Picture
Gallery; the paintings are very wonderful; all the figures
are life-size.
"Building the Pyramids," i- one 1:f the finest paintings
that I have ever seen; it look iver real. 'The Fall
of the First Man," is very well painted.
.There are a number of celebrated pictures, besides
these two paintings. a a a
The palace of the late Emperor William is a very
large and plain old palace. When living, the Emperor
appeared at the windows of his palace every day to see
his people.
Unter-den-Linden is a very beautiful avenue; it is
used for walking and driving.
The palace of the father of the late Emperor William
is very large. The interior is very magnificent.
The King had no stairs in the palace, but a place for a
horse to carry him up to his bedroom.
The floors of the palace are very highly polished, and
the visitors have to wear large velvet slippers to keep
the floor from being scratched.
The ball-room is very. long and wide; there are so
many pictures in this room that they nearly cover all
the wall.

KENOSHA, WIS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Our names are Lucien and
Lilian. Mamma read to us your lovely story, Daddy
Jake the Runaway." We pretend that it is about us.
We have had the ST. NICHOLAS ever since we can re-
member, and we really think we would die if it did n't
come. Sister Rene is writing this letter for us and we
are telling her what to say. We are seven years old.
You see we are twins. We hope this letter. will be
printed, as it is our first. Lucien has a dog named Pete,
and Lilian has a cat named Alward. We love little
pigs, too. Good-bye, dear ST. NIcHoLAS.
Your devoted admirers,
LUCIEN AND LILIAN.

WE thank the young friends whose names here follow
for pleasant letters received from them : Edith G. Scott,
"Thirteen Brothers and Sisters," L. M. H., Paul Gage,
Mildred D. G., May Waring, C. Maye Young, Mabel A.
Wells, Mildred W. Bennett, Fannie R., Adela C., Vivian
G., Merle Churchill, Willie Helm, Katherine," T. C.
Richardson, Jr., Charles Norton, Laura May Hadley,
M. E. E., L. Krutz, Emily C., Edna Foley, Edna and
Eleanor D., M. G. F., Mary Laycock, A. P. C. Ash-
hurst, A. N., Lillie Gray, Alice Earle and Elsie Wood-
ward, Clara C. B., Josephine D. W., Mida and Sadie,
Eleanor Bloomfield, H. B., Alec. and Archie Lander,
Eleanor L. Bell, L. Asher, Elsie A. R., L. B. Roth,
Fred. Bowie, Marie H. Janorin, Florence V. Medcalf,
Geo. W. Hare, Louisa M. Bell, Susan Elizabeth Clay,
Charles E. W., H. V. B., P. H. T., Roxalene'O. How-
ell, Emily H. Magee, Clara Louise Randolph, Faith
Tyler, Isabella and Marguerite White; Pauline Freyhan,
Lillian V. and Clara G., Charles Pfeiffer, Edith Dana,
Mabel Agnes Bloomer, Eleanor- 0., Isabella Margaret,
Eleanor A. Richards, J. H. Boatwright, Emmie C. B.,
A. R. F. C., and M. R. C.


798













THE .RIDDLE-BOX.



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.
DOUBLE DIAGONALS. Birthrights and Declaration. Cross-words: CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Thermometer.
I. Battalioned. 2. Misfortunes. 3. Parasitical. 4. Controlling. PI. O to lie in the ripening grass
5. Marshmallow. 6. Encouraging. 7. Contaminate. 8 Mysta-. That gracefully bends to the winds that pass,
gogues. 9. Trierarches. co. Ponderosity. ix. Noctilucous. And to look aloft the oakleaves through,
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Agassiz; finals, Le Conte. Cross- Into the sky so deep, so blue!
words: i. AnviL. 2. GracE. 3. AttiC. 4. SalvO. 5. SlaiN.
6. IngoT. 7. ZoclE. O to feel as utterly free
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. As the ricebird singing above on the tree,
If the first of July it be rainy weather, Or the locusts piping their drowsy whirr,
It will rain more or less for four weeks together. Or the down that sails from the thistleburr!
A STITCH PUZZLE. I. Arrow-stitch. 2. Hem-stitch. 3. Run- WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER.
ning-stitch. 4. Buttonhole-stitch. 5. Feather-stitch. 6. Lock-stitch. REBUS. A Tale of the Lights.. "A polite acolyte with a slight
7. Star-stitch. 8. Cat-stitch. 9. Cross-stitch. ao. Back-stitch., blight to his eye-sight, sang in the twilight, 'Let there be light.' In
xx. Briar-stitch. 12. Chain-stitch. 13. Outline-stitch. 14. Rope- this plight he saw with delight the flight of an arolite enlighten the
stitch, starlight like the daylight; and, alighting on an electric light, it put
RHOMBOID. Across: i. Gleam. 2. Orion. 3. Arbor. 4. Sloop. out the light quick as lightning."
5. Endor. ACROSTIC. Edda. i. Eagle. 2. Ducat. 3. Daric. 4. Angel.
CUBE AND SQUARE. From X to 2, tangled; 2 to 4, dauphin; PECULIAR ACROSTIC. Third row, Robert Burns; fifth row, Wil-
l to 3, torment; 3 to 4, trodden; 5 to 6, element; 6 to 8, trodden; berforce. Cross-words : i. caRaWay. 2. chOrIst. 3. taBuLar.
5 to 7, enforce; 7 to 8, enliven;- i to 5, tame; 2 to 6, dart; 4 to 8, 4. shErBet. 5. teRrEne. 6. coTeRie. 7. reBuFfs. 8. grUmOus.
noon; 3 to 7, tale. Inclosed square: i. Ment. 2. Ever. 3. Nero. 9. poRtRay. to meNaCed. xi. poStErn.
4. Trod. EASY RIDDLE. Cares.
EASY BEHEADINGS. Vacation. I. Vales. 2. Await. 3.- Clock. CONCEALED WORDS. Mountains. I. Hecla. 2. Atlas. 3. Nebo.
4. Aware. 5. Train. 6. Ideal. 7. Opine. 8. Never. Trees. I. Sandal. 2. Oak. 3. Yew.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the s5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY-CO., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May i5th, from Paul Reese K. G. S.- Ida C. Thal-
lon- Mary L. Gerrish.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May i5th, from A. E. Fischer, x--Addie and Simah, -
Amy F., i A. E. H. Meyer, x Lillian V. and Clara G., I Anna and Hattie, 3 Queen Elizabeth," 3 -A. W. Gibson, I -" Mamma
and her boys," 2 Louis Nuttman, 2 Wilford W. Linsly, 2 Ethel. Kirkland, 6 A. B. Dodge, I -- Madeleine D., I L. A. Conklin,
--Gert and Fan, 3- S. I. Myers, I-A. P. C. Ashhurst, I A. S. and B. R., --Clara and Emma, 3-Sadie Wigg, 2-E. E.
Strout, i -" Mischief and Mirth," i Fred E. Parmly, 4--" Toots," a --Marion S. Dumont, 2- B. M. Rickert, 2-Caroline S. Hop-
kins, 2- R. 0. Howell, M. Connett, I C. L. Trendley, 2- Madge Rutherford, 2- Mary E. Breed, 2--J. M. Caffee, i- C. S.
Marsh, I R. S. Morrison, I A. B. Lawrence, i E. W. Hamilton, I M. H. Janvrin, x Elsie A. R., 2 -" Rocket and Flyer," I -
Maude E. Palmer, Ia- Ariadne, Mary E. T., I Alice Hill, 2 -C. B. 0., 5 0. Z. H., 2 Marion, Barbara A. Russell, 2 -
Effie K. Talboys, ix Bub and Sis, 2 F. E. Hecht, I Lisa D. Bloodgood, 6--" Maxie and Jackspar," x2 Nadjy, i Gertrude
M. Meyer, I Ethel H., i -" May and 79," 9 -" Infantry," 13- George Garlichs, 2 Elizabeth A. Adams, i-" Roseba and
Laurida," 4- Conway, i H. S. Hadden, 3- Florence L. Beeckman, 7 Henry Guilford, 13 -" The Wise Five," 13 Marian W.
Little, 4 Monell, 3 Mamma and Millie, 3 Nellie L. Howes, -" Skipper," 2-" Golden West," 3- A. M. Pierce, i- S. W.
Adams, i Clara and Lucy, 2 Grace K., 3 May Martin, I -Jo and I, 12 Geoffrey Parsons, 2 S. Scott, I Mathilde, Ida and
Alice, 7- Emma Sydney, 2 C. C. D., 3 -Mattle E. Beale, Ii K. Guthrie, No Name, Louisville, o-- Grace Harwood, 3-
Gruoch, 4- A. Clarke, I -" Shep and Puskie" Taylor, 3- A. L. Brownell, E. Shirley, I.


CENTRAL ACROSTIC. States. 3. A part of a ship. 4. A moiety. 5. A Mohammedan.
6. A narrow valley. 7. A sharp-sighted beast. 8. A Chinese in-
THE words described are of unequal length, but when rightly strument. 9. Forsook. o1. To cry as an owl. ii. A pain. 12.
guessed the initial letters will all be the same, and the central letters An ecclesiastical dignitary. 13. A poet. 14. A staff. 15. Facile.
will spell the name of an American poet. 16. A time of fasting. 17. To curb. 18. The surname of a great
CROSS-WORDS: T. Those who carry. 2. Believes. 3. A kind of American statesman. 9g. A river of Germany. "AMERICA.
Ipo u 'I lI d 4, th


parrot lound in te U rlllllpplm AlallUB. 4. pluup maL aVy
horseback. 5. Grows smaller. 6. A wading bird. 7. A division
.of a book. 8. A kind of pleasure-carriage. 9. To sear with a hot
iron. LOUISE McCLELLAN.
CHARADE.
M.first ascends on soaring wings
To Heaven's gate,"
And hails the coming of the spring
In notes elate.
Mfy second shines on knightly heel
In battle won,
A token that its wearer's steel
Has prowess done.
My whole, beside his lady's bower,
In varied hue,
In stately pride unfolds its flower,
Pink, white or blue.
M. N. ROBINSON.

ZIGZAG.
EACH of the words described contains the same number of letters.
When these are rightly guessed, and placed one below the other, the
zigzag (beginning at the upper left-hand comer) will spell an event
which took place one hundred years ago.
CROSS-WORDS: A place to hold water. 2. One of the United
7i


A CLUSTER OF DIAMONDS.
I. i. In explodes. 2. A small draught. 3. To use frugally. 4.
A gem. 5. Supercilious. 6. Termination. 7. In explodes.
II. i. In explodes. 2. A tool. 3. A piece of leather. 4. A
precious stone which was set.in Aaron's breast-plate. 5. Part of
the body. 6. To place. 7. In explodes.
III. In explodes. 2. 'A body of water. 3. A jewel. 4. Skill.
5. In explodes.
IV. i. In trapeze. 2. A toy. 3. A gem. 4. The god of shep-
herds. 5. In trapeze.
V. I. In trapeze. 2. Era. 3. A 'kind of quartz. 4. A familiar
abbreviation. 5. In trapeze.
VI. a In blacking. 2. A pronoun. 3. A gem. 4. A kind of
grain. 5. In blacking. GRACE DUNHAM.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

MY primals will spell the name of a noted American; the central
row of letters will spell the name of a noted Englishman.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length) : i. Loads. 2. Reclining. 3.
Settles or fixes on a person and his descendants. 4. Selling. 5. An
escape by artifice or deception. 6. The most formidable of all sea-
gulls 7. One who distributes alms in behalf of another. 8. A re-
past at noon. 9. Degrades. K. P. K. and E. A. M.






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


NUMERICAL' celebrated pianist
ENIGMA. the Novum Org
in Paris." io.
SI AM composed of ninety- author.
one letters, and am a four- The central let
S line verse by Henry Syl- celebrated poet an
vester Cornwell.
My 85-65-14-52-25 is
always on the dinner-table.
My 56-9-47-68 is often on NI het
the breakfast-table. My Ree
62-39-29-17 is certain. My Roy
32-6-20 is a domestic am- Ruden
mal. My 4-89-72-34-91 is
Stheuprightpostabout which
the steps of a circular stair- Mesco
case wind. My 8-11-43-58 Dan
is one of the United States. Her
My 45-22-83-37 was a fa- Dan fy
mous city of ancient times.
My 64-26-60 is a beverage.
My 70-74-18-50-78 is a
sweet substance. My -41-
3o-x3-66-23-81 is a com-
S\ position oflime, water, and I. Filled.
S. sand. My 28-82-44-53 is 5. To inder
.. twisted toward one side. II. A glossy
My 49-87-15-69- 55_--i5 5. Airy homes.
is one of the sub-kingdoms
of animals. My 73-46-90-
27-54-59 is a color. My
9-61-38-33-76 is part of a
fen. My 75-36-21 is the name of a lovely ladyin Spenser's Faery
Queen." My 10-71-88 is to drag through the water by means
of a rope. My 24-35-5-67 is beautiful. My 86-80-7-57-40-5--x-2
is astonishment. My 63-42-48-77-84-3-31 is an old name for heat
"CORNELIA BLIMBER."

AN ESCUTCHEON.


FROM I to 5, a n
3 to 9, to fortify;
slightly; from to 1
From 24 to 26, to h
an iota; from 32
3 to 16, a South A
useful article at thi

SH
THE diagonals,
Sand comer, will
24 "majestic intellige
CROSS-WORDS:
ACROSS: i. The English novelist who wrote "Jack Sheppard." character in "The
2. An English artist whose work was much admired by Charles and Juliet." 4. A
Lamb. 3. The Irish poet who wrote "The Burial of Sir John "Much Ado Ab
Moore." 4. An eminent English divine and hymn-writer. 5. A Juliet." 7. A ch
famous English caricaturist, many of whose pictures were published Hamlet." All
in Punch. 6. The author of "The Two Foscari." 7. The most

THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.


of recent times. 8. The philosopher who wrote
anum." 9. The author of "The Fudge Family
The goddess of discord. Ii. A letter from an
ters, reading downward, will spell the name of a
Id novelist who was born August 15, 1771.
F. s. F.
PI.
strif wrosdy hate fo ugatus onon,
yte teh stupares rea wrendembo dan ryd,
te eht slowwal thesbear reh trapping shig,
eht dre nus nad het smorcin nomo,
Trigenge su lal oto noso,
eht mulped droldogen hwit tinnuflag intra
flits ehr lewloy hade glano eht wya
we weste wlid seros ledboom tub reedystay,
amo saidies dendod ni didasin
Tajuyl nus dna nira.

WORD-SQUARES.
2. To expiate. 3. To pledge. 4. To succeed.
fabric. 2. Solitary. 3. Taxes. 4. A small bay.
M. N. ROBINSON.
MALTESE CROSS.

1 2 3 4 5
19g 6 7 8' 32
2o 24 9 29 33
21 25 27 A 28 30 34
22 26 xo 31 35
23 11 12 13 36
14 15 16 17 18
masculine name; from 6 to 8, an opening; from
from Ii to 13, to immerse; from 14 to 18, to burn
to 16, relationship; from 19 to-23, a small candle;
inder; from 21 to 27, equal value; from 29 to 3r,
to 36, to blush; from 28 to 34, a luminary; from
merican bird of brilliant colors; from 21 to 34, a
e seashore. "LUNA."
AKSPEREAN DIAGONAL.
from the upper left-hand comer to the lower right-
spell the name of an Athenian statesman whose
ncee" is extolled by Plato.
I. A character in "Timon of Athens." 2. A
Merchant of Venice." 3. A characterin "Romeo
Character in "Julius Cmsar." 5. A character in
out Nothing." 6. A character in "Romeo and
aracter in "King Henry V." 8. A character in
he characters described are masculine.
MAX1E AND JACKSPAR.


800




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