• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 The little lovers
 The fortunes of Toby Trafford
 A talk about wild flowers
 Being responsible for Toffy
 The boy settlers
 How did she tell?
 A city playground
 The sleeping flowers
 Chan ok; A romance of the eastern...
 Highway and by-way
 Why bees make honey
 Grandpa's sweetheart
 The swimming-hole stories
 A little visitor
 A free circus
 A shadow lesson
 To the winds of June
 A June day in the orchard...
 The second kitten's hunt
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 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/UF00065513/00242
 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: VID00242
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
    The little lovers
        Page 571
        Page 572
    The fortunes of Toby Trafford
        Page 573
        Page 574
        Page 575
        Page 576
        Page 577
        Page 578
        Page 579
        Page 580
    A talk about wild flowers
        Page 581
        Page 582
        Page 583
        Page 584
        Page 585
        Page 586
    Being responsible for Toffy
        Page 587
        Page 588
        Page 589
        Page 590
        Page 591
        Page 592
        Page 593
        Page 594
        Page 595
    The boy settlers
        Page 596
        Page 597
        Page 598
        Page 599
        Page 600
        Page 601
        Page 602
        Page 603
        Page 604
        Page 605
        Page 606
        Page 607
    How did she tell?
        Page 608
    A city playground
        Page 609
        Page 610
        Page 611
        Page 612
        Page 613
        Page 614
        Page 615
    The sleeping flowers
        Page 616
    Chan ok; A romance of the eastern seas
        Page 617
        Page 618
        Page 619
        Page 620
        Page 621
        Page 622
        Page 623
    Highway and by-way
        Page 624
    Why bees make honey
        Page 625
        Page 626
    Grandpa's sweetheart
        Page 627
    The swimming-hole stories
        Page 628
        Page 629
        Page 630
    A little visitor
        Page 631
    A free circus
        Page 632
        Page 633
        Page 634
        Page 635
    A shadow lesson
        Page 636
        Page 637
    To the winds of June
        Page 638
    A June day in the orchard (Illustration)
        Page 639
    The second kitten's hunt
        Page 640
        Page 641
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 642
        Page 643
    The letter-box
        Page 644
        Page 645
        Page 646
    The riddle-box
        Page 647
        Page 648
        Unnumbered ( 83 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text




T TE, 1 111? r, lk P lqj rip _1

Tt- B Y 'd .

1 ..




I ---
P~z~


:.
I r
r. I /;l~lil'r? n'~i!t8
r
''; \
r















ST. NICHOLAS.


VOL. XVIII.


No. 8.


JUNE, 1891.
Copyright, 1891, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.


U m Lv- u"
jRH .L) TT LOvERS

S.. ..=- ... ^.^ :__ --. ---,, BY C. P. C AHW


*J _--- -^ j" .,_.1, 'f .--*

^ .'-' ^-;- ,.,,. ,i- .


--,.^ /1
, '-:' ''' I I
_- .-< : ... ,' .' - ,i'
-, -,*' I 1.-
/ ... -.. .*. '' .__
-\ '** ,
_-.-" ^ .

II'} .;i '. V -
^ ,,'" ,' # ',',


i ir she has fallen asleep in the shade.
(Sing low, sing low- you '11 awake her.)
Oh, she 's the loveliest little maid;
And her father 's our family baker.


Such beautiful buns and chocolate-cakes !
(Sing low, very low--you '11 alarm her.)
And oh, such elegant tarts he makes !
And his name is Joshua Farmer.


And her sweet name is Elinor Jane,
And her step is as light as a feather;
And we meet every day in the lilac lane,
And we go to our school together.






THE LITTLE LOVERS.


And now and then she brings me a bun.
(Sing low, or she '11 hear what we 're saying.)
And after school, when our tasks are done,
In the meadows we 're fond of straying.


And I make her a wreath of cowslips there,
As we sit in the blossoming clover,
And then she binds it around her hair,
And twines it over and over.



She 's ten; I 'm six; but I am as tall
As she is, I guess, or nearly.
And I cannot say that I care for her doll;
But, oh, I do love her dearly !



We were tired of playing at king and queen.
(Sing low, for we must not awake her.)
And she fell asleep in the grass so green;
And I thought that I would n't forsake her.


And when I am grown to a big tall man,
I mean to be smart and clever;
And then I will marry her if I can,
And we '11 live upon tarts forever.


Ut


/ r ..., ,
-i *`.


* -I.









THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


By J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


[Begun in the November number.]
CHAPTER XXX.
THE SWALLOWS AND THE HOLLOW TREE.
THE boat was stranded in the shade of a
large maple; and the two friends walked over
a gently rolling field that sloped up from the
level of the lake.
It seems to me you ought to find a buyer for
so handsome a piece of land as this! said Mr.
Allerton, watching a timid flock of sheep that
stood gazing at them, ready to turn and flee.
" It would make a beautiful little farm."
"Within ten miles of here," Toby replied,
"there are at least ten abandoned farms, that
can be had for less than the money they have
been mortgaged for. Some of them have good
buildings on them; but the owners could n't
compete with western farmers in raising grain,
or even in making butter and cheese. Some
of them have died, and others have gone to
seek their fortunes elsewhere."
"That is a sad state of things," said Mr. Al-
lerton. It seems to me it ought to be reme-
died. In places where there are summer boarders,
garden vegetables and fresh milk are sure to be
in demand. And as for a place like this,"-he
turned to get a view of the lake,-" what a
noble site for a fine summer residence!"
Perhaps we may sell it for that some time,
if we can afford to keep it long enough," said
Toby. "Look at those sheep! I am sure the
boys have been frightening them. They will
generally run to me, expecting salt."
It is the guns that alarm them," suggested
the schoolmaster, as he followed his companion
along a path that led up through a bushy ra-
vine. "The swallows, too, act as if they had
been disturbed."
Toby hastened forward anxiously. There was
a smell of smoke in the air, and the report of a
gun sounded close at hand, just over the crest
of a green knoll. The top of the hollow chest-


nut was already visible, and they could see the
small black bodies and darting wings of the
swallows that were circling about it in great
numbers.
"I never saw such a sight! exclaimed the
schoolmaster, while Toby quickly mounted the
crest, threw up his arms with an excited gesture,
and uttered a fierce shout:
What are you doing here ?"

Yellow Jacket had not given up his search for
Tom's rifle; but thinking they might see it bet-
ter after the reflection of the sunlight had disap-
peared from the surface of the water, he had
proposed to his companions to go off and wait
an hour. In the mean time they were having a
little fun ashore.
The cavity of the chestnut extended all
the way down the trunk to an opening at its
roots. This might have been large enough for
a slim boy to crawl into; and if Butter Ball had
been slim his companions would certainly have
forced him to attempt that difficult feat, in order
"to see what was to be seen," by looking up
through the inhabited hollow.
Then a dispute had arisen as to whether
these were true chimney-swallows; and whether
chimney-swallows objected to smoke. Tom and
Yellow Jacket maintained that they did n't;
while Lick Stevens declared that they never
built their nests in chimneys used for fires in
summer. Butter Ball remained neutral; and it
was he who had the credit of suggesting a set-
tlement of the question, by kindling a fire in the
hole at the base of the tree.
Oh, I would n't bother the birds that way !"
said Yellow Jacket.
But, according to your own argument, it
won't bother 'em; they '11 rather like a little
smoke," Lick replied. "Run, Butter Ball, and
bring sticks and brush and dry leaves from the
ravine !"
Butter Ball obeyed. Tom had some matches.





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


It may here be said that he also had cigarettes.
Since his father refused to give him again the
twenty dollars he had once received and lost,
he felt himself justified in breaking the promise
he had made, to leave off smoking.
He lighted his cigarette. Lick lighted the fire.
Then, while it was kindling, both amused them-
selves by shooting at the swallows on the wing.
The smoke created a great commotion among
the birds, both outside and within the hollow
tree. Butter Ball was stuffing more rubbish into
the opening, and Tom was on the point of shoot-
ing into the flock of swallows over their heads,
when Toby made his appearance on the scene,
followed immediately by Mr. Allerton coming
up over the knoll.
At the sound of Toby's voice, at the sight of
his threatening gesture and angry face, Tom
lowered his gun and stared.
I never saw such a set of cowards! "
With this wrathful exclamation, Toby rushed
in, and began to pull the burning rubbish away
from the aperture. The sound of young birds
fluttering, and peeping, and dropping down
within the hollow trunk to the ground or into
the fire, redoubled his fury.
Mr. Allerton hastened to his assistance, ex-
claiming :
Boys I what are you thinking of, to make
war upon these harmless birds ? I would not
have believed it of you, Patterson!"
Yellow Jacket sulked; and both Tom and
Butter Ball were too much surprised to make
any reply. But Lick Stevens remained cool,
with a polite smile on his sarcastic lips, and a
sparkle of malice in his eyes, as he answered:
"We are not harming the birds, sir. You
can't hit one on the wing, if you try a week.
And they like smoke. So the boys say."
Like it! Toby exclaimed. "It is driving
the young ones out of their nests, and you can
hear them falling here is one now! "
And he snatched the poor little thing out of
the fire.
Oh, that is too cruel!" said the schoolmas-
ter, in pitiful accents.
I did n't know it would do that," Tom mut-
tered, with mingled resentment and mortification.
You might have known it, if you had n't
been worse than a-"


Toby's furious speech was in full career when
Mr. Allerton stopped him.
Don't call hard names, Tobias; they will
not right any wrongs."
But look at that! And Toby, full of ire
and grief, held out in the hollow of his hand
the scorched and suffering bird. And there
are more of them!"
He raked away the fire with the end of a
partly burnt branch, and took out two more
half-fledged swallows. Tom offered to help
him, but was rudely pushed aside. Mr. Aller-
ton secured the birds, while Toby looked for
more and tried to extinguish the fire.
I guess it's about time for us to get out of
this," said Lick Stevens, cool as ever; it almost
seems as if we were not wanted here, as the
tax-collector said when he got kicked down
stairs."
"You are not wanted here; and I '11 thank
you never to come near this tree nor set foot
on this lot again. I mean every one of you "
cried Toby, as the intruders went off together.
I am sorry you were so violent with them,"
said Mr. Allerton, "though I can hardly blame
you. It was certainly an exasperating act.
But even when you are in the right it is n't
best to be too severe. Nobody ever gains
anything by losing his temper."
I know it. But I could n't help it! replied
Toby. "There are more birds in there now-
if I could only get at them. I hope the fire
has n't reached them. But they will be sure to
starve to death."
Mr. Allerton remarked that the fire had
attacked the tree itself, and would be sure to
eat into the dry shell, if every spark was n't
extinguished. I should think we might get
water in the little ravine yonder; I noticed a
wet place as we came by," he added, pointing
toward the lake.
"Yes; and there is the lake-full, just as there
was when I wanted to put out that other fire!"
said Toby. "I have a bailer in my boat. It
won't take five minutes to fetch it."
"Don't have any words with those boys, if
you fall in with them," the teacher warned him,
as he was starting off.
I '11 try not to," replied Toby.
He saw nothing of the marauders, who had


[JUNE,






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


not returned to their boat; and having hastily
dipped up his bailer-full of lake water, he set
out to carry it back up the hill. But the bailer-
an old tin basin-was rusty, and he had not
gone far before he perceived that the water was
fast escaping through three or four holes. He
tried to stop them with his fingers, and ran as
fast as he could; but, by the time he reached
the tree of the swallows, the basin was nearly
empty.
"I am sure you can get some here in the
ravine," Mr. Allerton said, and went himself to
scoop out a hollow place, which was soon filled
with dirty water. "There seems to be a spring
here; and I 've no doubt we should find it very
good water, if we gave it time to settle."
It is good enough for our purpose, as it is,"
said Toby, filling his basin and running with it
to the tree.

CHAPTER XXXI.

"PROMISE NEVER TO TELL!"

THE fire was quickly extinguished; and then
there seemed nothing else to do but to put out
of their misery the poor little fledglings that
had suffered from it.
It made Toby's heart bleed to do this. Nor
could he cease to express his wonder and in-
dignation at what he called the "inhuman
deed."
It was bad enough, certainly," said Mr.
Allerton; but I am inclined to call it thought-
less rather than inhuman. Patterson, I am sure,
would n't willingly have caused these innocent
little creatures to suffer. I am especially sorry
for what has occurred, on his account. He is
extremely sensitive; and I am afraid we may
lose our hold upon him. You forgot to speak
of finding the gun."
Yes, I forgot everything but the mean and
cowardly business we caught them at," said
Toby. Even if I had remembered, I would n't
have mentioned it. I would have taken the gun
Tom had in his hands, and thrown it into the
middle of the lake, if I could. Such fellows
ought never to have a gun. I have thought so
much of the swallows in this old tree."
"The smoke is getting out of it, and they
are quieter now," said Mr. Allerton. I don't


think many young ones have hopped out of their
nests. Can we do better than to leave the well
ones where they are? The parent birds may
possibly find them."
"I've a good mind to take these two home
to Milly," said Toby. If anybody can nurse
them and keep them alive, she can. She has a
great fondness for such pets. She had a young
swallow once."
Mr. Allerton approved the suggestion, and,
making a nest of his handkerchief, he carried
the two helpless, half naked, ungainly little crea-
tures to the boat. He and Toby never knew
how many more were left to their fate, in the
cavity where they had fallen, nor what became
of them.
Half an hour later, Tom and his friends
returned from an excursion they had made far-
ther over the hill; sending Butter Ball ahead,
" to see if the coast was clear," in the vicinity
of the hollow tree.
The scout reporting that Mr. Allerton and
Toby were gone, he was once more sent for-
ward to look out for them, while the others
stopped at the scene of their recent exploit.
It was mere curiosity, however, that moved
them, and not a desire to indulge in any more
sport at the expense of the swallows.
They saw that the fire was out, and looked
rather ruefully at the dead swallows whose de-
struction they had caused; only Lick Stevens
seeming to consider it a time to joke.
You see, boys," he said, I was right about
their not liking smoke. There 's only one biped
that does like it; and he makes a chimney of
himself-like you, Tom."
The spring Mr. Allerton and Toby had opened
in the side of the ravine attracted Tom's atten-
tion as they passed it. The water, which had had
time to clarify itself, was bright and sparkling.
Tom stooped to take up some in the hollow
of his hand. Yellow Jacket got down on his
knees, to drink directly from the spring. Lick
made a movement with his uplifted foot as if
to push the kneeler's face down into the water,
when he was startled by a simultaneous exclama-
tion from his two companions.
What is it ? he asked, as both appeared to
be gazing into the bottom of the brimming
hollow. "A gold mine ? "






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


Tom rose to his feet, looking very much ex- his dripping nose, and once more gazing into
cited. Lick, too, with all his coolness, betrayed the pool.
a lively interest as they discussed the nature of For that reason," cried Tom, don't either
of you breathe a word
S- of it to a living soul!
S' "After Toby's treatment
Sof us to-day, I would n't
S-" ., have him know for any-
thing. I'm glad Butter
SBall is n't here; three
S 'TA V R are better than four to
keep such a secret as
this. Promise, boys,
never to tell!"
S "You won't catch
S me telling anything that
will do him any good,"
St o said Lick Stevens, with
a malicious grin. "But
N.y -,*~ \- maybe he has found it
7.I out for himself."
I don't believe so,"
Tom replied. "Hejust
scooped up the muddy
,, I I water to get some to put
out the fire; and he
could n't have discov-
ered the gold mine, as
you call it, without wait-
ing a while. I '11 make
it worth something to
both of you, if you '11
keep mum. You will,
Yellow Jacket ? "
S'It's nothing I shall
t' go blabbing about,"
-1)i ,.. Yellow Jacket replied.
IIIK "So now," cried Tom,
elated, "let 's fill up
.,' the hole and cover it
with brush! "

CHAPTER XXXII.
FISHING FOR THE GUN.
MEANWHILE, Mr.
Allerton had made the
"TOBY THREW UP HIS ARMS WITH AN EXCITED GESTURE, AND UTTERED A FIERCE SHOUT." purchase of the boat
the discovery. Yellow Jacket sat down on the at the Springs, and was returning down the lake
grass and laughed. with it, in the wake of the Milly. As there
It's on Mrs. Trafford's lot," he said, wiping was no wind, the sail had been furled by wrap-


UUNE,






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


ping it tightly around the mast, and was laid
in the bow; the new owner pulled a pair of
light spruce oars.
"As it has no name," said he, talking from
one boat to the other," I am going to call it
the Swallow,' in memory of this afternoon's
adventure. It rows almost as easily as your
boat, though built for carrying a sail. I am
really delighted with it! "
"There 's Yellow Jacket's boat on the shore,
where we left it," said Toby. "Those fellows
are still up on the hill somewhere. Do you
believe they will meddle with the swallows
again ?"
"I hardly think so," Mr. Allerton replied.
Then in a little while he asked, "What will
you do about that gun? "
"I don't know; I 'm going to have up my
rowlock, anyway," said Toby.
"I think we can get the rifle," said Mr.
Allerton.
Projecting from the bow, with the end of
the mast, was a bamboo fishing-pole that had
happened to be in the boat at the time of the
purchase. The former owner had given the pole
to Toby. With this Mr. Allerton thought the
rifle might be fished up."
Arrived on the spot, however, they met with
unexpected difficulties. The floating cork was
there; but the sun no longer shone into that
part of the lake, and even after the water had
become tranquil the gun was nowhere to be
seen. Only a faint glimmer at the bottom
showed the place of the sunken rowlock. From
that the position of the rifle had to be guessed.
It is a doubtful experiment," said the school-
master; but there will be no harm in trying it.
After the hard names you called Tom and his
friends, I am all the more anxious you should
recover the gun for him."
He had already got into Toby's boat, and
the end of the line attached to the cork had
been made fast to the fishing-pole.
"Now, if you will hold the boat in place,
Tobias, I '11 see what I can do, working without
seeing."
He thrust the end of the pole, with the line,
down into the lake, until he felt that it touched
bottom. Then he raised it a few inches, and
began to move it in a wide circle, in the hope


of carrying the line around the gun. This, it
will be remembered, had been found sticking in
the mud, with the butt-end upwards.
It was only now and then that he caught
glimpses of the rowlock, through the water
which his movements troubled. But he was
soon able to determine the position of the gun,
from the revolutions the pole, with its radius
of string, made around it.
"It is getting wound up on something," he
said. "Tobias, I think we shall succeed! "
Though lukewarm as to doing Tom a good
turn," Toby was keenly interested in the result
of the experiment, which exhibited the master's
ingenuity and skill. And when, after the line
was entirely wound up, Mr. Allerton began to
draw upon it gently, the boy watched as eagerly
as if the rifle to be restored had been his own.
"It has settled deeper in the soft mud than
I had thought possible," said the schoolmaster.
" Something is giving way, though "
Was the line tightening around the gun, or
slipping over the butt ? He took a few more
turns to wind up the slack, then slowly and
firmly lifted on the pole. Up it came perpen-
dicularly; followed by another and clumsier
object, in a tangle of string.
It was the gun, which Toby made haste to
seize and lift over the rail into the boat, with
exclamations of delight.
The rowlock also came up, dangling at the
end of the line.
That was the bait we caught the fish with!"
laughed Toby. "A gun will sometimes snap,
but I never got a bite from one before! Oh,
is n't it a joke on Tom and Yellow Jacket!"
"How so ? "
To think of their trying for two hours to do
what we have done almost without trying! It
is n't the first time Yellow Jacket has looked
for it, either. And he is such a brag! "
We '11 be careful not to brag of what we
have done," replied Mr. Allerton. "Did you
ever consider how a little boasting sometimes
spoils a good deed ? "
"Yes! said Toby; "for I have heard Yel-
low Jacket tell about the persons he has saved,
until I have almost wished he had let 'em
drown."
The line, which was found looped and twisted





[JUNE,


THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


around the lock and stock of the rifle, and caught
on the hammer, was uncoiled by the school-
master, and wound up again on the cork by
Toby. The gun was washed by dashing it into
the clear water of the lake, and carefully wiped
with the boat sponge. Then the Milly was
pulled to Toby's wharf, with the "Swallow"
in tow.
Now, what are we going to do with it ?"
Toby asked, after making the boats fast, as he
stood on the wharf with the rifle in his hands.
"I will leave it at Mr. Tazwell's house, on
my way home," said Mr. Allerton. "I '11 take
these young birds to your sister first."
Mildred, who came to the door at Toby's call,
looked into the folded handkerchief which the
schoolmaster held out to her, and uttered an
exclamation of surprise and dismay.
For me! Oh, Toby, how could you think of
such a thing? The poor, forlorn little midgets "
He says that you had one once," Mr. Aller-
ton explained, and that you are fond of pets."
Fond of pets! she repeated, drawing back,
with glistening eyes, and a smile of tender mirth-
fulness. So I am, so very fond of them that
I can't bear to see them pine away and die, as
my dear little swallow did, spite of all I could
do. Besides, did you imagine, Toby, I had
nothing else to do but to catch flies and devote
my days and nights to trying to keep these
helpless orphans alive ? But I will take them,
Mr. Allerton, if you wish it."
No; I see it will be too much of a trial for
you, after your other unfortunate experiment,"
said the schoolmaster. I will try what I can
do with them myself."
Let me keep one of them," she said, giving
another look at the half-fledged things in his
hand a pitying, yearning look. Oh, yes!
one! And we '11 see which has the best suc-
cess."
You can make a bet on it, and let me hold
the stakes," said Toby. "I hope it will be
candy! I '11 make a swallow of that!"
Mr. Allerton laughed, hesitated, and finally
said:
Would n't it be too bad to separate them?
They will probably do better if kept together."
"Then give me both !" said Mildred.
Thinking she made the request against her


choice and judgment, merely to relieve him of
the birds, he would not consent; but departed,
carrying his handkerchief carefully in one hand
and the gun in the other.
It is to be feared that Toby, when he came to
relate the afternoon's adventures to his mother
and sister, failed to follow the master's advice
in one or two particulars. He did call Tom
and his companions some hard names; and he
did brag.
To his credit, however, it must be said, that
the bragging was mostly in favor of Mr. Aller-
ton; with two interested listeners, he could not
say enough in praise of his wise and generous
friend.
Mildred was mildly sarcastic.
I have no doubt that he is perfect, and knows
everything," she said. But now we '11 see if
he knows enough to bring up two young swal-
lows by hand!"

CHAPTER XXXIII.
WHAT BECAME OF THE BIRDS.
MEANWHILE Mr. Allerton on his way home
stopped at Mr. Tazwell's house to leave the
gun. Bertha, who came to the door, looked up
at him with bright, questioning eyes.
"Tom's rifle she exclaimed, when he told
his errand. Why, he has gone to hunt for it
this afternoon."
"So I heard," said Mr. Allerton. Please
say to him that Tobias and I had the good
fortune to recover it without much trouble; and
that we are very glad to return it to him."
He will be so much obliged to you !" said
Bertha. "How long has it been in the water ?"
Not quite a week yet, I believe," said Mr.
Allerton, standing the rifle against the door-
post.
"That 's true!" she replied. "And yet it
seems weeks and weeks! "
You went into the water with it, I under-
stand," said the master.
"Fortunately, I went into the water with
something not quite so heavy as that!" she
answered, with a laugh, an oar that buoyed
me up till the boat came to our rescue."
"Patterson was a lucky fellow that day!"
said Mr. Allerton.





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


579


How so ?" she asked, meanwhile wonder-
ing what was contained in the handkerchief,
which he held so carefully.
Why, was n't it he who had the good fortune
to save your life ? That 's what I heard."
"That Patterson ? Yellow Jacket ?" Ber-
tha looked up, with a frown knitting her pretty
brows. "I have heard that story!"
"Was n't your life in danger ? "
"In danger! I might have been burned
alive, or drowned, two or three times over-
if such a thing were possible-for all he could
have done for me. Somebody did save my
life, and set me afloat with the oar, before he
came near me. Yellow Jacket did all he could,
and I was thankful enough to be taken into
his boat; but why should people claim for him
all the credit that belongs to somebody else ? "
This was evidently a subject she could n't
speak of without betraying too much feeling.
She shrugged, bit her lips, tapped the floor with
her small foot, and said, as she took hold of the
gun to carry it into the house:
"But it 's of no use !-and I ought not to
have said anything."
I am glad to have heard you say so much.
I think I understand the situation." He was
turning to go, when he paused and said: Since
you may feel some curiosity in regard to what
I have here, let me show you."
And he uncovered the birds in his handker-
chief.
"Oh! what are they? Where did you get
them ? she cried, with eager interest.
"They are young swallows that Tobias and
I picked up at the root of a hollow tree. We
took them home to his sister, thinking she
might like to raise them, but she was afraid she
could n't."
Oh, give them to me! exclaimed Bertha.
Do you think you would like to try ? "
If you will let me! What do they live on ?"
"That is the troublesome question," said the
schoolmaster. The old birds live on insects,-
flies, moths, anything they can catch in the
air,- and I suppose they must feed their young
ones on the same sort of food."
"I can catch flies enough, if they will only
eat them!" said Bertha.
In that case," Mr. Allerton replied, I shall


be only too well pleased to have you take them,
and Tobias, I am sure, will'be delighted."
Oh, thank you thank you "
And, forgetting all about the gun, Bertha
gathered the birds softly into her warm hands,
and ran with them into the house.
Mr. Allerton, greatly relieved, shook out his
handkerchief, wiped his forehead, gave his little
coil of hair a long-needed pat, and walked away,
with a smile of serene satisfaction.
Not long after that, Tom Tazwell came home.
Yellow Jacket, on their return trip down the
lake, had refused to dive again for the gun.
No use," he said, finding it less easy to. see
into the depths of the water than when the sun
was on it. You might as well look for a lost
toothpick in the Adirondack woods. You can
take my opinion for what it's worth."
He gave his head a shake, implying that the
said opinion was that of an expert, and "worth
considerable."
"It 's jest as I told you in the first place.
That gun has sunk down in the mud, where
you never '11 set eyes on it again."
It might have been a satisfaction to the vil-
lage idler to recover the gun, and secure the
reward Tom had offered for it. But it was also
a satisfaction to have his original prediction ful-
filled. That, to a boaster like Yellow Jacket,
was worth at least five dollars.
Tom was not so greatly disappointed as his
companions expected he would be.
Well, never mind! he said cheerfully.
"I '11 go home and tell father."
Imagine then his surprise when he mounted
the steps of the porch, and found the lost gun
leaning quietly and naturally beside the door!
Great Casar! he exclaimed, staring at it.
"Howin thunder!-" He took it up and handled
it. "It can't be! But it is, though I Dogs and
cats and little elephants! how did this happen? "
He ran into the house in great excitement,
bawling out:
"Where did my rifle come from? We have
been diving for it all the afternoon, and here
it is at the door! Say, who knows anything
about it ? "
SAt first it appeared that nobody did; for
Bertha, in her raptures over the young swal-
lows, had forgotten to mention the gun.






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


Why, Thomas said his mother, if you
did n't bring it yourself, I 've no idea how it
got here."
"Bring it myself!" cried Tom, impatiently.
" Don't I tell you I've been searching the bot-
tom of the lake for it, for the last five hours ?
Where 's Bert ?"
In the kitchen, caring for some young birds.
Perhaps she can tell you about it."
To the kitchen Tom went, brandishing the
firearm and blustering.
Oh, yes! cried Bertha, at a side table,
leaning over a tiny basket in which she had
her birdlings imbedded in cotton-wool. I can
tell you all about it. Mr. Allerton brought it.
He said he and Toby found it without the least
trouble, and were glad to return it to you."
Found it without the least trouble ? Tom
muttered, with black looks. I 'd like to know
how! I don't believe it. And I wish they
would mind their own business "
"What a return that is for all their trouble!"
said Bertha indignantly.
"You just said it was no trouble!" Tom
retorted, glowering first at his sister, then at the
gun. "Why should they meddle ?"
But if they found it, what would you have
had them do with it? Tom, you are so un-
reasonable! "
"They did n't do it out of any kindness to
me," Tom answered. "And if they did, I
did n't want any of their kindness. Perhaps
they think they '11 get the five dollars I offered
for a reward. But that was a special offer to
Yellow Jacket."
Tom, in your heart, you don't believe they
had any such mean motive! You almost make
me think," said Bertha, that you don't care to
have your gun again."
I don't care to get it in this way." Then,
without thinking how the words would sound
if reported to his father, he added angrily,
"Why should I want it, anyhow ? I was bound
to look for it, of course, but I knew if I found
it there would be no chance of my making
that trade with Lick Stevens."


Oh, Tom what will father say to that?"
Bertha asked indignantly.
"He won't say anything, for you won't be
such a little goose, as to tell him. If you do,
I '11 come up with you! What have you got
there ? "
"Two dear little birds; see if you can tell
of what kind they are."
Bertha uncovered the basket, willing to di-
vert the storm of her brother's wrath, and never
suspecting how much more terrible a tempest
she was about to raise.
"Where did you get those ? he demanded,
recognizing the young swallows which his own
thoughtless cruelty had assisted in driving from
their nests.
It was not a sight to please him. Poor Ber-
tha, frightened at the fierceness of his look, at-
tempted to explain.
"Now I know it was all intended as an
insult!" he said, interrupting her. "But it
shan't succeed with me, you can tell them! "
And snatching up the basket he ran with it
out of the house.
Oh, Tom Tom! shrieked Bertha, follow-
ing and endeavoring to overtake him, "what
are you going to do ? "
He flung the little basket back at her, and
when she stopped to pick it up, only to find it
empty, he disappeared in the barn, fastening the
door behind him.
She pounded and clamored to be let in; but
in vain. She had grown strangely quiet, when
at length the door was opened, and he came
out, empty-handed, with a hard smile on his
face, showing that all was over with the birds.
Tom Tazwell," she said, choking with emo-
tion, I never will forgive you in this world! "
I 'm not going to have any such game
played on me!" said Tom, stalking past her
toward the house. "When Toby asks how I
liked his swallows, tell him the cat liked them
very well."
Cruel! cruel! cried Bertha, with an intol-
erable sense of wrong, but with eyes flashing
through tears.


(To be continued.)


580











A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS.










S -" -', '':. ';i-- 1 ;- 'i-- -
li'lsi^II'^2A ::
..:J ] -,"


jN ..r,, L .%-1 .-.i.r1....
,.-.') ,. _,.. . ,
',"j~ = .,%' -' .:. .. .

_ r -; _i .1 ,. ,."'. ..
:' ),eh,',l T~
.. . -2 '' -. .' .-: - .5 . -


I in1, I I E 1, '.


S 1i Ithe animal world.
S For instance, that
S. pretty and very abun-
Sdant spring flower of
,' ours, the adder's-
'. .r tongue, or dog's-tooth
". violet, presents a
problem which I have
not yet been able to solve. This plant, you know,
is a lily, and all the lilies, so far as I know, have
a bulb that sits on top of the ground. The onion is
a fair type of the lily in this respect. But here
is a lily with a bulb deep in the ground. How
does it get there? that is the problem. The
class-book on botany says the bulb is deep in
the ground, but offers no explanation. Now it
is only the bulbs of the older or flowering plants
that are deep in the ground. The bulbs of the
young plants are near the top of the ground.
The young plants have but one leaf, the older
or flowering ones have two. If you happen to be
in the woods at the right time in early April, you


1,,:_'!,_ i- h ,_l Il lnjt r.. ,, !> n ,-,f ,Jr, !j c -. th at
,.,i:,', e : rl'. i : ; .* ,., ,,-Ii il:' .- : :,r]'.-i.'r,,._ :''I in -
"ii LIii-'crr T I ,i ,.: I t I-,rhur-r I.ii !! ':.r:in g,
ot lift it up, but pierce through it likc an awl.
But how does the old bulb get so deep into
the ground? In digging some of them up
last spring in an old meadow-bottom, I had to
cleave the tough, fibrous sod to a depth of
eight inches. Some smaller ones were only two
inches below the surface. A friend of mine tells
me he has discovered how the thing is done.
Next summer I hope either to disprove or else
to confirm his observation. In the mean time,
if any of the young readers of this magazine can
solve the problem, they will be acquiring a bit
of fresh and original knowledge that will, I
know, taste wonderfully good to them.
The field of natural history has been so closely
gleaned, so little remains to be found out about
the habits of our familiar birds and flowers,
that an unsolved problem like this is something
to be prized. It is a pity that this graceful
flower has no good and appropriate common
name. It is the earliest of the true lilies, and
it has all the grace and charm that belong to this






[JUNE,


A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS.


order of flowers. Erythronium, its botanical
name, is not good, as it is derived from a Greek
word that means red, while one species of our
flower is yellow and the other is white. How
it came to be called adder's-tongue I do not
know; probably from the spotted character of


ADDER'S-TONGUE, OR DOG'S-TOOTH VIOLET.

the leaf, which might suggest a snake, though it
in no wise resembles a snake's tongue. A fawn
is spotted, too, and "fawn-lily would be better
than adder's-tongue. The "dog's-tooth" may


have been suggested by the shape and color of
the bud, but how the violet" came to be added
is a puzzle, as it has not one feature of the violet.
It is only another illustration of the haphazard
way in which our wild flowers, as well as our
birds, have been named.
In my spring rambles I have sometimes come
upon a solitary specimen of this yellow lily
growing beside a mossy stone where the sun-
shine fell full upon it, and have thought it one
of the most beautiful of our wild flowers. Its
two leaves stand up like a fawn's ears, and this
feature, with its re-curved petals, gives it an alert,
wide-awake look. The white species I have
never seen.
Another of our common wild flowers, which
I always look at with an interrogation-point in
my mind, is the wild-ginger. Why should this
plant always hide its flower? Its two fuzzy,
heart-shaped green leaves stand up very con-
spicuously amid the rocks or mossy stones, but
its one curious, brown, bell-shaped flower is
always hidden beneath the moss or dry leaves,
as if too modest to face the light of the open
woods. As a rule, the one thing which a plant
is anxious to show and to make much of, and
to flaunt before all the world, is its flower. But
the wild-ginger reverses the rule and blooms in
secret. Instead of turning upward toward the
light and air, it turns downward toward the
darkness and the silence. It has no corolla,
but what the botanists call a lurid, that is,
brown-purple calyx, which is conspicuous like a
corolla. Its root leaves in the mouth a taste
precisely like that of ginger.
This plant and the closed gentian are apparent
exceptions, in their manner of blooming, to the
general habit of the rest of our flowers. The
closed gentian does not hide its flower, but the
corolla never opens; it always remains a closed
bud. It probably never experiences the bene-
fits of insect visits, which Darwin showed us
were of such importance in the vegetable world.
I once plucked one of the flowers into which a
bumble-bee had forced his way, but he had
never come out; the flower was his tomb.
There is yet another curious exception which
I will mention, namely, the witch-hazel. All
our trees and plants bloom in the spring, except
this one species; this blooms in the fall. Just






A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS.


as its leaves are fading and falling, its flowers
appear, giving out an odor along the bushy
lanes and margins of the woods that is to the
nose like cool water to the hand. Why it
should bloom in the fall instead of in the spring
is a mystery. And it is probably because of


1kr


.4;
'I.~


this very curious trait that its branches are
used as divining-rods by certain credulous per-
sons, to point out where springs of water and
precious metals are hidden.
One of the most fugitive and uncertain of our
wild flowers, but a very delicate and beautiful one,
is the climbing corydalis, or mountain-fringe. It
is first cousin to squirrel-corn and ear-drop, our
two species of dicentra; but, unlike these, it seems
to have no settled abode nor regularity in its ap-
pearance. In my locality it comes, as the wild
pigeons used to do in my boyhood, at long inter-
vals. I had not found any in my walks for years,
till after the West Shore Railroad was put
through. Then suddenly a ledge that had been
partly blasted away in the edge of the woods
was overrun with it. It appeared also at other
points in the path of the destroyers along the
road. The dynamite and giant-powder seemed to
have awakened it from the sleep of years. It
has now gone to sleep again, as none is ever
seen in these localities. Probably an earthquake
or another gang of railroad builders would wake
it up. I gathered some seed and sowed them in
other places, but no plants have appeared there.
Most young people find botany a dull study.


So it is, as taught from the text-books in the
schools; but study it yourself in the fields and
woods, and you will find it a source of peren-
nial delight. Find your flower and then name
it by the aid of the botany. There is so much
in a name. To find out what a thing is called


-A I


is a great help. It is the beginning of know-
ledge; it is the first step. When we see a new
person who interests us, we wish to know his or
her name. A bird, a flower, a place,- the first
thing we wish to know about it is its name.
Its name helps us to classify it; it gives us a
handle to grasp it by, it sheds a ray of light
where all before was darkness. As soon as we
know the name of a thing, we seem to have
established some sort of relation with it.
The other day, while the train was delayed
by an accident, I wandered a few yards away
from it along the river margin seeking wild
flowers. Should I find any whose name I did
not know ? While thus loitering, a young Eng-
lish girl also left the train and came in my
direction, plucking the flowers right and left as
she came. But they were all unknown to her;
she did not know the names of one of them,
and she wished to send them home to her
father, too. With what satisfaction she heard
the names; the words seemed to be full of mean-
ing to her, though she had never heard them
before in her life. It was what she wanted: it
was an introduction to the flowers, and her
interest in them increased at once.






A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS.


"That orange-colored flower which
you just plucked from the edge of the
water, that is our jewel-weed." I said.
It looks like a jewel," she replied.
"You have nothing like it in Eng-
land, or did not have till lately; but I
hear it is now appearing along certain
English streams, having been brought
from this country."
"And what is this ?" she inquired,
holding up a blue flower with a very
bristly leaf and stalk.
"That is viper's-bugloss or blueweed,
a plant from your side of the water, one
that is making itself thoroughly at
home along the Hudson and in the
valleys of some of its tributaries among
the Catskills, It is a rough, hardy
weed, but its flower, with its long, con-
spicuous purple stamens and blue cor-
olla, as you see, is very pretty."
Here is another emigrant from
across the Atlantic," I said, holding up
a cluster of small white flowers each
mounted upon a little inflated brown
bag or balloon,- the bladder-campion.
It also runs riot in some of our fields
as I am sure you will not see it at
home." She went on filling her hands
with flowers, and I gave her the names
of each,--sweet-clover or melilotus,
probably a native plant, vervain (for-
eign), purple loosestrife (foreign), toad-
flax (foreign), chelone, or turtle-head,
a native, and the purple mimulus or
monkey-flower, also a native. It was
a likely place for the cardinal-flower, but
I couldn't find any. I wanted thishearty
English girl to see one of our native wild
flowers so intense in color that it would
fairly make her eyes water to gaze
upon it.
Just then the whistle of the engine
summoned us all aboard, and in a mo-
ment we were off.
When one is stranded anywhere in
the country in the season of flowers
or birds, if he feels any interest in
these things he always has some-
thing ready at hand to fall back upon.


* pA WFII/


[JUNE,






iS9g.] A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS. 585

i hung with pendent clusters of long
purplish buds or tassels ? The stalk is
four feet high, the lower leaves are
large and lobed, and the whole effect
7"> of the plant is striking. The clusters of
S '- purple pendents have a very decorative
K -" ,. .: effect. This is a species of nabalus, of
S the great composite family, and is some-
times called lion's-foot. The flower is
cream-colored, but quite inconspicuous.
The noticeable thing about it is the
drooping or pendulous clusters of what
appear to be buds, but which are the
involucres, bundles of purple scales, like
little staves, out of which the flower
"' emerges.
"- --' In another place I caught sight of









>1 4






TURTLE HEAD.
And if he feels no interest in them he will do well
to cultivate an interest. The tedium of an eighty-
mile drive which I lately took (in September), cut-
ting through parts of three counties, was greatly /A
relieved by noting the various flowers by the road-
side. First my attention was attracted by wild thyme
making purple patches here and there in the meadows
and pastures. I got out of the wagon and gathered
some of it; I found honey-bees working upon it, and
remembered that it was a famous plant for honey in
parts of the old world. It had probably escaped from
some garden; I had never seen it growing wild in
this way before. Along the Schoharie Kill, I saw
acres of blueweed or viper's-bugloss, the hairy stems
of the plants, when looked at toward the sun, hav-
ing a frosted appearance.
What is this tall plant by the roadside thickly LOOSESTRIFE.
VOL. XVIII.-43.






A TALK ABOUT WILD FLOWERS.


something intensely blue in a wet, weedy place,
and on getting some of it found it to be the closed
gentian, a flower to which I have already referred
as never opening but always remaining a bud.
Four or five of these blue buds, each like the end
of your little finger and as long as the first joint,


TOAD-FLAX.


crown the top of the stalk, set in a rosette of
green leaves. It is one of our rarer flowers,
and a very interesting one, well worth getting
out of the wagon to gather. As I drove through


a swampy part of Ulster County, my attention
was attracted by a climbing plant overrunning
the low bushes by the sluggish streams, and
covering them thickly with clusters of dull white
flowers. I did not remember ever to have seen it
before, and on taking it home and examining
it found it to be climbing boneset. The
flowers are so much like those of bone-
set that you would suspect their rela-
tionship at once.
Without the name any flower is still
more or less a stranger to you. The
name betrays its family, its relationship
to other flowers, and gives the mind some-
thing tangible to grasp. It is very diffi-
cult for persons who have had no special
training to learn the names of the flowers
from the botany. The botany is a sealed
book to them. The descriptions of the
flowers are in a language which they do
not understand at all. And the key is no
help to them. It is as much a puzzle as
the botany itself. They need a key to
unlock the key.
One of these days some one will give
us a hand-book of our wild flowers, by
the aid of which we shall all be able to
name those we gather in our walks with-
out the trouble of analyzing them. In
this book we shall have a list of all our
flowers arranged according to color, as
white flowers, blue flowers, yellow flowers,
pink flowers, etc., with place of growth
and time of blooming. Also lists or sub-
lists of fragrant flowers, climbing flowers,
marsh flowers, meadow flowers, wood
flowers, etc., so that, with flower in hand,
by running over these lists we shall be
pretty sure to find its name. Having
got its name we can turn to Gray or
Wood and find a more technical descrip-
tion of it if we choose. Indeed, I have
heard that a work with some such features
has actually been undertaken by a lover of
birds and flowers in the western part of this
State.












BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


BY SOPHIE SWETT.


THERE were so many of the Primes and they
grew so fast that their father's long-tailed coat
was handed all the way down to little Amos, the
seventh boy; and last year Tudy actually made
her "fore-and-aft" cap of one of the tails. If
one is a minister's daughter in a little out-of-the-
world Cape Cod town, where some people pay
for their share of preaching with salt codfish,
and others with cranberries, one must develop
a contriving bump,- and especially if one is
the only girl in a family of eight, and one's father
cherishes the old-fashioned opinion that a girl is
not of much account, anyway.
Papa Prime's heart yearned over his boys,
running wild with bare feet among the sand
hills, apparently becoming amphibious, but ac-
quiring very little book-learning. How to edu-
cate them was a problem which absorbed much
of his thought, but it never occurred to him
that it was of any consequence, whatever, that
Tudy wished to be an artist. He knew that her
head had been full of this fancy from the time
when, a mite of a girl, she had got into disgrace
by drawing, in the long prayer," an old Portu-
guese sailor, with ear-rings and a wooden leg,
who had strayed into church, until the last
school-examination when the committee had or-
dered that the ship which she had drawn should
remain on the blackboard, being an honor to
the district. If Tudy learned, from her Aunt
Rebekah, to be a thrifty housekeeper, that was
about all the education that was necessary for
her, he thought. So it happened that Tudy ate
her heart out with longing for drawing materials,
colors to set forth the glories of the East Tilbury
marshes in September, and lessons that would
show her just how to express the conceits that
were thronging her brain and fairly tingling at
her fingers' ends. When, besides being the only
girl in a family of eight, one is a twin, one's
difficulties and trials are increased. Tudy was
very apt to be held responsible not only for her


own shortcomings but also for her twin brother's;
and to be responsible for Toffy was sometimes
not a trifling matter.
Their father had settled upon Toffy to be the
minister of the family. Ben, the eldest son, had
sorely disappointed him by a persistent deter-
mination to become a sailor; failing to obtain
his father's consent, Ben had run away to sea,
and now no one dared to mention his name in
his father's presence, but Tudy and Aunt Re-
bekah cried themselves to sleep every stormy
night. It seemed to Tudy that her father had
grown ten years older since Ben had run away.
And now here was Toffy manifesting a trading-
bump, apparently the only one in the family.
His father had talked to him earnestly of the
hopes which he had centered in him, and Tudy,
with a deep sense of responsibility, had set before
him the delights of learning, all in vain. It is
possible that Tudy's arguments might have had
more effect if Toffy had not been acquainted
with her great weakness in the matter of the
multiplication table, and with her private opin-
ion of parsing. But Toffy, even in dresses, had
yearned to play marbles for keeps," and while
the front yard fence still overtopped him he
had, through the slats, challenged every passer
to swop knives" with him. Almost ever since
he had worn jackets, he had been saving up to
buy a cranberry meadow, and the walls of the
wood-shed were covered with an imaginary
profit and loss account of the cranberry busi-
ness; but, alas for poor Toffy! on this summer
when he was fourteen his prospects of owning
a cranberry meadow were represented by thirty-
seven cents, and he suspected Aunt Rebekah
of having dark designs upon that sum for the
purchase of his straw hat.
Even his poultry business, upon which he
could generally depend, had proved unprofit-
able this season; his sitting hens all "rose up "
(as Ann Kenny, the Irish washerwoman, said), a






BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


great mortality visited his young turkeys, and flour-barrel, nor made over a coat seven times,
Aunt Rebekah had an unprincipled way of sighed heavily, and began to look among the
making cake and custards of his eggs before rest of his flock for the one who should follow
the egg-man came around. in his footsteps. Isaiah, who came next to the
But Toffy's determination to become a busi- twins, was addicted to truancy and eccentric
spelling; even now the
minister's heart was
heavy over a soiled and
i I I crumpled scrawl which
S' had been presented to
SII tthe school-teacher by
I Isaiah and by him for-
Si I I. ,I warded to the culprit's
father: pleez igscuz
S, the barer' for being
'' i Late. And Oblidge
"." i. yures truly, rev absalom
I I Prime."
1i l/As to his morals
Isaiah might reform,
,, but Papa Prime de-
spaired of his spelling.
I' Samuel, who came next,
owned an imagination
-which imparted an
"Arabian Nights" fla-
-- vor to his simplest state-
_ _B t\ ments, and in matter
of-fact East Tilbury the
S' -minister'sdistressed ears
had heard him called
Lying Sammy." Then
Lysander was inordi-
HIS FATHER HAD TALKED TO HIM EARNESTLY." nately fat and fond of


ness man was not overthrown by these reverses,
nor by the elusiveness of the cranberry meadow.
He could see no advantage in grinding over
Latin declensions, and when Tudy exhorted him
to work his way through college as a preliminary
to being President,- to be a minister meant,
in Tudy's experience, to be so poor that she
had not the heart to keep that calling stead-
fastly before Toffy's eyes,-Toffy replied that he
would rather keep a store.
Aunt Rebekah said, when she heard of Toffy's
ambition, that she had known folks to serve the
Lord keeping store, and make money, too. And
it was evident that Aunt Rebekah thought that
this combination of aims was not to be despised.
But Papa Prime, who had never scraped the


pie, and his father was afraid that he would never
be spiritually minded; and, to say nothing of Ab-
salom's fixed determination to become a circus
clown, it was feared that his stammer was incur-
able. Peleg and little Amos were notoriously mis-
chievous and troublesome, but as they were but
six and seven respectively, a less despondent soul
than the minister's might cherish hopes of their
reform.
Papa Prime doubted whether the Lord had
blessed him in his children, and perhaps it was
unfortunate that Tudy should have taken the
very day on which he had heard Toffy's re-
mark about keeping store and been led by it
to this gloomy survey of his whole family, to
tell him that Miss Halford, the drawing-teacher


IJUNE,





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


at the S-- Academy, had kindly offered to
give her a drawing-lesson twice a week. The
minister said, decidedly, that Tudy could not
walk four miles to S- and he could not
afford to pay her fare in the stage. Moreover,
she would better give her time to such useful
occupations as cooking and sewing.
Here was another child who was a disap-
pointment with her desire for vain accomplish-
ments, the minister thought bitterly. And
Tudy went away feeling herself the most
deeply injured and unhappy girl in the whole
round world. If she were not the only girl
in the family she would run away, like Ben,
she said to herself; but some one must help
Aunt Rebekah to level the weekly mountain
of patching and darning, avert their father's
anger from Isaiah and Lysander, keep Peleg
and little Amos from setting the house on fire
or falling into the well, and, last but not least,
be responsible for Toffy. Oddly enough, what
he felt to be a great stroke of good fortune
had come to Toffy on this very day. It is
seldom that one's dearest ambitions are real-
ized so soon, but Toffy had actually had an
opportunity to become a partner in a store.
Dave Rickerby, whose father was postmaster
and storekeeper of East Tilbury, had planned
to go into business in this summer vacation.
Dave already had several irons in the fire, be-
ing the owner of a small cranberry meadow,
part-owner of the Frisky Kitty," a jaunty lit-
tle cat-boat which thriftily went fishing in the
fall and spring, and then, being thoroughly
cleansed of her fishiness and thickly painted,
took the summer guests of the Tilbury House
on pleasure excursions; moreover Dave this
summer had taken the contract to supply the
Tilbury House with clams and band concerts
(himself reinforcing the somewhat feeble Sandy
Harbor band with a drum and fish-horn).
Dave was nothing if not enterprising; he had
keen eyes for a business opening, and great
promptness in availing himself of it. Toffy
greatly respected Dave Rickerby.
Now that Tilbury Center had become a
watering-place, and the summer guests drove
or sailed over to East Tilbury every day, and
excursion boats often landed there, Dave was
of the opinion that a small store, kept in an old


fish-curing establishment that belonged to his
father, down on the wharf, would be a paying
investment. He meant to keep fruit, candy,
and nuts, ginger beer and pickled limes, the
latter a delicacy much esteemed by the youth-
ful population of East Tilbury.
It 's well to look out for the home trade,"
explained Dave with his legs dangling from his
father's counter, while Toffy astride a barrel
listened open-mouthed as if he were literally
drinking in wisdom.
Toffy was very proud to have been selected
as a partner by Dave.
"Of course I could have found a partner
with money," Dave had said; "but I know
business talent when I see it." And Toffy felt
that, for the first time in his life, he was appre-
ciated.
But when Tudy heard the terms of the part-
nership she thought that Toffy's share of the
profits was to be small. Toffy had scarcely
thought of that, he had been so flattered by
Dave's appreciation. "He is n't giving you a
fair share, Toffy," she said, indignantly.
"It's Capital; Labor can't contend against
it," said Toffy gloomily. Toffy read the news-
papers and heard the questions of the day dis-
cussed in the store, but he had never felt quite
sure with which side of the labor question" he
sympathized, until now.
By the time that he gets ten per cent. on
the money he invests there will be no more
profits left to divide! said Tudy, who was not
obtuse if she did have difficulties with the mul-
tiplication table. And he will expect you to
do all the work."
"Yes, of course; that 's what he wants me
for; that 's the way you have to do if you have
no capital," said Toffy. But it 's a great
opening for me, as Dave says. There 's the ex-
perience, you know. But I don't know what
father will say about it. You 'd better ask him,
Tudy."
Tudy's face lengthened dolefully. The expe-
rience which she had just had with her father
was not encouraging.
I could n't ask him to-day, and I would n't
if I were you," she said. The minister had
moods like other people, and his daughter
thought that he might be less severe upon


589





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


Toffy's shopkeeping ambitions if the question
were presented another day.
Perhaps we 'd better not ask him at all,"
suggested Toffy, after reflection. "It 's safer."
At any previous time Tudy would have
strongly dissented from this proposition, but now
she was very bitter over
the destruction of her
own hopes. It would
be too bad if her father
should crush Toffy's in
the same way.
"If anybody should
speak to him of mybeing
in the store, we could let
him think that I was .
just tending for Dave.
That 's all it amounts
to, any way. And it may
be a failure, so there ,
won't be any need of
telling him."
Toffy looked some-
what surprised, and very
much relieved that Tudy
made no attempt to re-
fute this logic. Tudy's
generally stern views of
duty and propriety were -
sometimes distasteful to =
Toffy. I can do my
Latin just the same. He
says I 've got to stick
to it all through vaca- T 'S CAPITAL; LAB
tion." Toffy made a wry


face. "You can tend for me
you? I would n't dare to
boys."
Tudy reflected that it was ve
there on the wharf, and if one
count one's fingers in making
probably do it under the cc
always wished to help Toffy-
whose tastes, like hers, were
So it came about that whet
on the wharf had been thor
and whitewashed somewhat
ble-down and very fishy it wa
blue and white paper for the sh
some of her sketches upon the


And Dave appreciated her assistance so highly
as to offer for her acceptance a small pickled
lime, which was quite wonderful for Dave, who
disapproved of giving anything away. And
Tudy was called upon to tend store almost
every day. Dave superintended affairs for a


I ;


'''III


.OR CAN'T CONTEND AGAINST IT,' SAID TOFFY GLOOMILY."


sometimes, can't while, every morning, and he kept the books
trust any of the (the accounts were, in fact, set down upon a
broken slate, but Dave had impressed Toffy
ry pleasant down with the desirability of giving an'air of impor-
were obliged to tance to the establishment, so they always spoke
changee one could of" keeping the books "), but Toffy was expected
hunter; and she to be there constantly, and the Latin lessons,
- poor Toffy! to say nothing of the cares of wood chopping
frowned upon. and poultry keeping, and the occasional beguile-
n the little place ment of a game of ball, which not even the
oughly scrubbed sternest business principles could resist, made
t dingy and tur- this very difficult.
ls-Tudy pinked Aunt Rebekah was forced to do the mend-
elves, and pinned ing alone, and even to make the ginger cookies
walls, for which Tudy was famous, and it became


[JUNE,


----i
~---~--~---
---





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


necessary to use much discretion to prevent
the minister from finding out about the store.
Being responsible for Toffy was harder than
ever. Business was brisk at first; for the most
part, the customers were children with a few
pennies to spend. But, sometimes, when the
fishing-boats were in, or an excursion steamer
made a landing at the wharf, the stock would
be almost exhausted in a few minutes, and Tudy,
racking her brains and frantically counting her
fingers under the counter, would firmly resolve
to privately master the multiplication table be-
fore the next boat came in.
But, after the novelty wore away, the home
trade, as Dave called it, began to fall off; the
tin banks of East Tilbury began to give forth
their wonted jingle, and a virtuous sense of
" saving up again filled many an over-tempted
breast. Except when the boats came in, it was
dull, and Toffy allowed himself to be beguiled
more and more by the charms of ball playing;
moreover, he was securing jobs to row and sail
boats for the summer visitors; he hoped to
earn enough money to have a store of his own,
by another summer. To be a partner in a
business where labor was so overridden by
capital was not only offensive to Toffy's feel-
ings, but against his principles. Tudy carried
her sketch-book to the store, and cheered her-
self by drawing pictures in dull times; she
would have taken the pile of mending, but
Dave objected to that as looking unbusinesslike.
One morning, when the only customer was
little Smith Atwood, who wanted to change his
stick of candy after he had taken a bite of it,
Tudy devoted herself to sketching, from the
window, Smith's small and stocky figure; strug-
gling manfully along under the same disadvan-
tage as "my son John" in the ancient rhyme,
and with his tow head protruding from the crown
of his tattered hat, he struck her as a prom-
ising subject. But suddenly Smith stood still
and shrieked, to the full extent of his small
lungs, and his shrieks were mingled with the
frantic barking of a dog. If it had not been
for the dog, Tudy would have taken it for
granted that the cause of Smith's woe was the
fact that his candy was all eaten; he had been
known to give utterance to his feelings in like
manner under such circumstances. But the dog


was barking on the banks of the cove which
made in behind the wharf; there was a pile of
boards there, and something hidden in it seemed
to be the cause of the dog's excitement.
"It 's my ki-ki-kitten! screamed Smith,
" and that 's Nye's dog that breaks ki-ki-kit-
tens' backs!"
Tudy dropped her sketch-book and ran to
the upper end of the wharf and jumped down
upon the pile of boards. It was easy to drive
Nye's dog away, but the terrified kitten squeezed
herself out from the boards, and took a fly-
ing leap on to a rock which was surrounded
by water.
Now she 's a-goin' to der-der-drownd her-
self!" howled Smith.
Don't cry I '11 get her, Smithy and in a
moment Tudy had taken the flying leap, too,
and catching the kitten tossed her lightly back
to Smith, who by this time had laboriously de-
scended to the water's edge.
When it came to taking the flying leap back
again, without the excitement of the chase, Tudy
found it another matter.
"I shall jump short, and it is quicksandy
about here she said to herself. I don't see
how I ever did it! "
The tide was coming in, and while she delib-
erated the breach widened. She caught sight
of a piece of driftwood floating about on the
waves. It looked long enough to cross the
space between her rock and the shore, and the
incoming tide was bringing it directly towards
her. It was tossed back again on a retreating
wave; forward and backward it wavered, and
in watching and trying to reach it Tudy failed
to note the rapid passing of time until the rock
on which she stood was almost covered with
water. Just in time to escape a wetting she
seized the piece of board and made a bridge
of it to the shore.
"I never left the store so long before," she
said to herself, as she climbed quickly to the
wharf. But I should have seen any one who
came along the road, and if an excursion boat
had come in I am sure that I should have heard
the whistle."
But when Tudy reached the store she felt like
the little old woman on the king's highway who
cried, Oh, lawk 'a' mercy on me, this surely can't





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


be I!" From the counter had vanished the
jar of pickled limes, the basket of lemons, the
figs, and dates, and nuts, and from the shelves
were gone the tins of fancy crackers and cakes,
the boxes of caramels and chocolates, all the
ginger beer! Nothing was left but a few jars of
the poorer candy, and some peanuts. Nothing
was in disorder; there were no signs that the


when she remembered how long she had re-
mained on the rock, she thought it possible that
a boat, the Frisky Kitty or another, might have
put in there, taken the things, and with that
breeze have sailed out of sight, around the point,
before she returned. She reflected, with a heavy
heart, that it was more likely to have been an-
other boat; for Dave was too businesslike for a


"LTUDY HAD TAKEN THE FLYING LEAP, AND CATCHING THE KITTEN TOSSED HER LIGHTLY BACK TO SMITH."


thief had been in haste. Tudy looked out upon
the water, but saw no sign of a boat on all its
broad surface.
Could Dave or Toffy have taken away the
goods to frighten and punish her for having left
the store ? They had been going to take a
party out sailing in the Frisky Kitty, but there
had been so little wind all the forenoon that
Tudy had half expected to see them come back;
a fine breeze was blowing now, however, which
Dave surely would not miss. She must wait
until night to know whether it was they who
had done it. It had seemed at first as if the
thieves must have vanished into thin air, but


joke, and it would not be like Toffy to do any-
thing that would distress her so much.
At one moment she was tempted to give an
alarm and try to get some one on the track of
the thieves, but in the next she reflected that
this would not be easy, since there was no tele-
graph in Tilbury, and she might make a great
deal of trouble and bring everything to her
father's knowledge all to no purpose. And then,
if it should prove to be the boys' joke, she
would have made herself a laughing-stock.
The day came to an end, as even long days
will, and up to the wharf came the Frisky Kitty
with the sunset gay on her sails.


[JUNE,






BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


You did Oh, did n't you take the things
away? gasped Tudy, with all the day's anxiety
in her voice. One glance at the boys' faces told
her that her hope was in vain. And they were
both very severe, even Toffy showing no regard
for her feelings. He said it was "just like a girl
to neglect business to run after a kitten," and
Dave said, loftily, that "it would never have
been his way to trust a girl, and he hoped that
Toffy realized that he was responsible for the
loss." And then he got out the broken slate and
reckoned up the loss; he said it was no more
than fair that he should charge the retail price
for everything because that was what he should
have got; and he brought the figures up to a
height that made Tudy dizzy, and Toffy turn
pale. Even arithmetic was never so dreadful
before! Oh, why had Providence permitted
Smith Atwood to have a sweet tooth, or his stu-
pid kitten to follow him ?
"You've ruined me, that's all! Toffy said to
her bitterly, when Dave had brought his account
up to nineteen dollars and eighty-seven cents.
He must have half the money at once to re-
stock his store, Dave said; the rest Toffy might
work out on board the Frisky Kitty, and in his
cranberry meadow. Of course the partnership
was at an end; he should be obliged to have a
partner with money. Nolly Van Dusen, a New
York boy who was spending the summer at the
Tilbury House, was desirous of being admitted
into the firm.
While Tudy was having her miserable day,
Miss Halford, the drawing-teacher at S- ,
was visiting the minister. She had been much
impressed by Tudy's talent, and had come to try
to persuade her father to allow her to take les-
sons. Mr. Prime was quite unmoved by her
arguments while she remained, but after she had
gone one of them returned to him with some
force. Tudy might be obliged to earn her own
living, and many womanly occupations, such as
sewing and teaching, were overcrowded. Aunt
Rebekah had once said something of the kind
to him. The minister, who, when he was con-
vinced of a duty, lost no time in performing it,
walked over to Tilbury Center, under a hot sun,
and called at the bank.
He met Tudy at the gate when she came
home, and put some money into her hand.


Miss Halford has been here, and has con-
vinced me that it would not be amiss for you
to take drawing-lessons," he said. Your Uncle
Phineas put five dollars into the bank for each
of you when you were born. Yours amounts to
nearly eight dollars now, as you see. It will be
enough to buy your materials and pay your fare
to S- ."
Poor Tudy strangled the largest sob that had
ever filled her throat.
Oh, Father, I shall have to take it to pay a
debt! I owe somebody-such a lot! I can't
tell you about it, because-because it concerns
somebody else," she stammered.
The minister fairly groaned. Were ever chil-
dren so troublesome and disappointing as his ?
"You would better tell your aunt. A girl like
you should not have secrets or debts. I don't
understand."
"Oh, you could n't, Father, you could n't! "
cried Tudy, hastily trying to forestall inquiry.
It was all about a kitten and things, and
something that was carried off."
The minister frowned severely, and turned
away. He had a great distaste for the petty,
practical details of living, and he disapproved
of kittens. Tudy had a guilty sense of having
taken advantage of her father's weakness, but
as she ran out to the poultry yard to find Toffy
she was not without a thrill of happiness in the
possession of the money. She found Toffy rue-
fully surveying his bantams, to discover whether
he could bear to sell them.
Here 's almost half the money, Toffy, and
I will sell a pair of my guinea-hens to make up
the difference she cried.
Toffy had to hear all about it; such a mir-
acle as the possession of eight dollars must be
explained.
It 's too bad about your drawing-lessons,
but probably you would n't have done much at
it; girls can't," said Toffy philosophically, as he
pocketed the money. "I 'm going to charge
Dave Rickerby well for my labor! he added.
" He 'll find out! And I 'm going to be a
Labor Reformer-an Agitator." Toffy pro-
nounced the words as if they were spelled with
very large capitals.
But in spite of the high charges it took a
long time to work out the rest of the debt.





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


Tudy sewed stockings from the factory to help,
and she tried not to think of drawing. Her
sketch-book had been carried away in the raid on
the store; she remembered that she had dropped
it into the basket of lemons; probably the thieves
had thrown it away.
But one September day when Toffy had
picked cranberries for Dave after school, as
the last instalment of his debt, a large box ar-
rived at the post-office for Miss Arethusa
Prime." It was such a very unusual event
that Tudy walked around and around the box,
on the back porch, and dared not open it.
And Toffy was not at all sure that it was not
an infernal-machine intended to blow him up
for being an Agitator.
It was not until Dave Rickerby had come
around, and the minister, too, had arrived,
that the box was opened. There was a letter
on the top addressed, like the box, to Miss
Arethusa Prime, and beneath it lay the sketch-
book which Tudy had expected never to see
again.
The letter, which Tudy read aloud with in-
creasing wonder in her voice, set forth that
the writer, ,who was the proprietor of the
yacht Spitfire," having, on a certain day of
July, been so long becalmed that provisions
on board the yacht were entirely exhausted,
had sent his steward on shore at East Tilbury,
to secure whatever provisions he could in the
least possible time, that they might catch a
sudden breeze; that finding no one in the store
the man had carried off whatever he could lay
his hands on, and the sketch-book had been
found in a basket of lemons; that he, being an
artist Oh, he is the great artist, C-- in-
terpolated Tudy, actually turning pale as she
looked at the name signed on the last sheet -
had been much interested in her sketches,
which he thought showed remarkable talent,
and this opinion was shared by the whole
party of artists on board the yacht; that only
a severe accident, which had disabled both his
yacht and himself-" Oh, I read about the
Spitfire; a schooner ran into her in the fog,
and two or three fellows got hurt," cried Dave.
"A severe accident," continued Tudy, "had
prevented him from paying for the goods taken,
and restoring the sketch-book. Would Miss


Prime accept from brother artists the enclosed
materials, which must be somewhat difficult to
obtain in her remote home, and would she kindly
reimburse the injured shopkeeper, and after-
ward use anything that might remain of the
one hundred dollars enclosed to further her ar-
tistic career ? If she would prefer to consider
it a loan she might repay it at her convenience."
The great box was full of drawing-paper,
drawing-materials, and colors.
Oh, how could they know just what I wanted
only from seeing my name ? cried Tudy, look-
ing through tears of joy from the precious con-
tents of the box to the thin little strip of paper
which had fluttered from the letter, and which
was a check that meant a hundred dollars.
I say, you can't blame me if I did hurry you
up a little about paying me, because now it 's
all yours," said Dave.
The minister was hearing it all. They had to
explain to him just how the robbery occurred.
And you've been working to pay it ? was
all he said.
"Toffy has worked like-like a bear! said
Tudy. "But listen! There 's some more."
"We should hardly have been able to dis-
cover the name of the place where our theft was
committed," the letter went on, "if it had not
happened that our sailing-master was a native
of East Tilbury, a young man of your name,
Benjamin Prime. He had suffered great hard-
ships on a foreign voyage, and so was glad to
take the comparatively easy position of captain
of a yacht for the summer. You may be pleased
to know that his ability, fine character, and the
bravery shown at the time of the accident inter-
ested us so greatly in him that we have helped
him to secure a very responsible position, for
so young a man, with a steamship company in
New York."
The minister swallowed something hard; in
another moment tears were running down his
thin, severe face.
My boy Ben! -of course he was brave!
He must come home, Tudy, he must come
home !"
Tudy's heart danced. That was almost better
than all the rest! And to hear her father say,
" The Lord has blessed me in my children, after
all, Rebekah!"


[JUNE,





BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR TOFFY.


During the reading of the letter, Dave had
been somewhat ill at ease.
I say, Toffy, you and I must try a partner-
ship again, next spring," he broke out, at the
first opportunity. I 'm glad that fellow Nolly


I '11 try it. There ought not to be any
contest between Capital and Labor," said Toffy,
seriously. But sometimes I don't think I know
quite enough to go into business yet. Tudy
thinks Latin would help."


STUDYY READ THE LETTER ALOUD WITH INCREASING WONDER IN HER VOICE."
"TUDY READ THE LETTERR ALOUD WITH INCREASING WONDER IN HER VOICE."


Van Dusen is going home to-morrow; he 's a
regular cheat-claiming everything, because he
has more money than I! I don't know but I
have been a little mean, Toffy, but a-a fellow
has to look out. We '11 share and share alike,
except fair interest on money."


Dave looked a little alarmed. He did n't
altogether approve of Tudy's influence.
Oh, I was going to say--about girls, you
know. We won't have 'em to tend, will we?
They will run after kittens and things, and
another time it might not turn out so well."


i%:



























-E -- .---_-B -R H_--
THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY HUNTER.


THE BOY SETTLERS.


By NOAH BROOKS.


[Begun in the November number.l

CHAPTER XVI.

A GREAT DISASTER.

THE hunters had better success on their
second day's search for buffalo; for they not
only found the animals, but they killed three.
The first game of the day was brought down
by Younkins, who was the guide, philosopher,
and friend of the party, and Oscar, the young-
est of them all, slew the second. The honor of
bringing down the third and last was Uncle
Aleck's. When he had killed his game, he was
anxious to get home as soon as possible, some-
what to the amusement of the others, who ral-
lied him. on his selfishness. They hinted that
he would not be so ready to go home, if he
yet had his buffalo to kill, as had some of
the others.
"I 'm worried about the crop, to tell the


truth," said Mr. Howell. If that herd of buf-
falo swept down on our claim, there 's precious
little corn left there now; and it seemed to me
that they went in that direction."
If that's the case," said the easy-going Youn-
kins, what 's the use of going home ? If the
corn is gone, you can't get it back by looking
at the place where it was."
They laughed at this cool and practical way
of looking at things, and Uncle Aleck was half-
ashamed to admit he wanted to be rid of his
present suspense, and could not be satisfied until
he had settled in his mind all that he dreaded
and feared.
It was a long and wearisome tramp home-
ward. But they had been more successful than
they had hoped or expected, and the way did
not seem so long as if they had been return-
ing empty-handed. The choicest parts of their
game had been carefully cooled by hanging
in the dry Kansas wind, over night, and were


U N21






THE BOY SETTLERS.


now loaded upon the pack-animals. There
was enough and more than enough for each of
the three families represented in the party; and
they had enjoyed many a savory repast of buf-
falo meat cooked hunter-fashion before an open
camp-fire, while their expedition lasted. So
they hailed with pleasure the crooked line of
bluffs that marks the big bend of the Republican
Fork near which the Whittier cabin was built.
Here and there they had crossed the trail, broad
and well pounded, of the great herd that had
been stampeded on the first day of their hunt.
But for the most part the track of the animal
multitude bore off more to the south, and the
hunters soon forgot their apprehensions of dan-
ger to the corn-fields left unfenced on their
claim.
It was sunset when the weary pilgrims reached
the bluff that overlooked the Younkins claim
where the Dixon party temporarily dwelt. The
red light of the sun deluged with splendor the
waving grass of the prairie below them, and
jack-rabbits scurrying hither and yon were the
only signs of life in the peaceful picture. Tired
as he was, Oscar could not resist taking a shot
at one of the flying creatures; but before he
could raise his gun to his shoulder, the long-
legged, long-eared rabbit was out of range.
Running briskly for a little distance, it squatted
in the tall grass. Piqued at this, Oscar stealthily
followed on the creature's trail. "It will make
a nice change from so much buffalo meat," said
the lad to himself, "and if I get him into the
corn-field he can't hide so easily."
He saw Jack's long ears waving against the
sky on the next rise of ground, as he muttered
this to himself, and he pressed forward, resolved
on one parting shot. He mounted the roll of
the prairie and before him lay the corn-field.
It was what had been a corn-field! Where had
stood, on the morning of their departure, a glo-
rious field of gold and green, the blades waving
in the breeze like banners, was now a mass of
ruin. The tumultuous drove had plunged down
over the ridge above the field, and had fled, in
one broad swath of destruction, straight over
every foot of the field, their trail leaving a brown
and torn surface on the earth, wide on both sides
of the plantation. Scarcely a trace of greenness
was left where once the corn-field had been.


Here and there, ears of grain, broken and
trampled into the torn earth, hinted what had
been; but for the most part hillock, stalk, corn-
blade, vine and melon were all crushed into an
indistinguishable confusion, muddy and wrecked.
Oscar felt a shudder pass down his back, and
his knees well-nigh gave way under him as
he caught a glimpse of the ruin that had been
wrought. Tears were in his eyes, and, unable
to raise a shout, he turned and wildly waved his
hands to the party who had just then reached
the door of the cabin. His Uncle Aleck had
been watching the lad, and as he saw him turn
he exclaimed: Oscar has found the buffalo
trail over the corn-field!"
The whole party moved quickly in the direc-
tion of the plantation. When they reached the
rise of ground overlooking the field, Oscar,
still unable to speak, turned and looked at his
father with a face of grief. Uncle Aleck, gazing
on the wreck and ruin, said only: "A whole
summer's work gone!"
"A dearly bought buffalo-hunt!" remarked
Younkins.
"That's so, neighbor," added Mr. Bryant,
with the grimmest sort of a smile; and then
the men fell to talking calmly of the wonderful
amount of mischief that a drove of buffalo could
do in a few minutes, even seconds, of time.
Evidently, the animals had not stopped to
snatch a bite by the way. They had not tar-
ried an instant in their wild course. Down the
slope of the fields they had hurried in a mad
rush, plunged into the woody creek below,
and, leaving the underbrush and vines broken
and flattened as if a tornado had passed through
the land, had thundered away across the flat
floor of the bottom land on the further side of
the creek. A broad brown track behind them
showed that they had then fled into the dim
distance of the lands of the Chapman's Creek
region.
There was nothing to be done, and not much
to be said. So, parting with their kindly and
sympathizing neighbors, the party went sorrow-
fully home.
Well," said Uncle Aleck, as soon as they
were alone together, I am awful sorry that we
have lost the corn; but I am not so sure that
it is so very great a loss after all."






THE BOY SETTLERS.


The boys looked at him with amazement, and
Sandy said:
"Why, Daddy, it's the loss of a whole sum-
mer; is n't it? What are we going to live on
this winter that's coming, now that we have no
corn to sell ? "
"There 's no market for Free State corn in
these parts, Sandy," replied his father; and,
seeing the look of inquiry on the lad's face, he
explained: Mr. Fuller tells us that the offi-
cer at the post, the quartermaster at Fort
Riley who buys for the Government, will buy
no grain from Free State men. Several from
the Smoky Hill and from Chapman's have been
down there to find a market, and they all say


tlers report; and it sounds reasonable. That
is why the ruin of the corn-field is not so great
a misfortune as it might have been."

CHAPTER XVII.
THE WOLF AT THE DOOR.
UNCLE ALECK and Mr. Bryant had gone
over to Chapman's Creek to make inquiries
about the prospect of obtaining corn for their
cattle through the coming winter, as the failure
of their own crop had made that the next thing
to be considered. The three boys were over at
the Younkins cabin in quest of news from up
the river, where, it was said, a party of Cali-


A GREAT DISASTER. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


the same thing. The sutler at the post, Sandy's
friend, told Mr. Fuller that it was no use for any
Free State man to come there with anything
to sell to the Government, at any price. And
there is no other good market nearer than the
Missouri, you all know that,- one hundred and
fifty miles away."
"Well, I call that confoundedly mean !" cried
Charlie, with fiery indignation. "Do you sup-
pose, Daddy, that they have from Washington
any such instructions to discriminate against us ? "
"I cannot say as to that, Charlie," replied
his father, I only tell you what the other set-


fornia emigrants had been fired upon by the
Indians. They found that the party attacked
was one coming from California, not migrating
thither. It brought the Indian frontier very
near the boys to see the shot-riddled wagons,
left at Younkins's by the travelers. The Chey-
ennes had shot into the party and had killed
four and wounded two, at a point known as
Buffalo Creek, some one hundred miles or so up
the Republican Fork. It was a daring piece
of effrontery, as there were two military posts
not very far away, Fort Kearney above and
Fort Riley below.


[JUNE,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


But they are far enough away by this time,"
said Younkins, with some bitterness. "Those
military posts are good for nothing' but to run
to in case of trouble. No soldiers can get out
into the plains from any of them quick enough
to catch the slowest Indian of the lot."
Charlie was unwilling to disagree with any-
thing that Younkins said, for he had the highest
respect for the opinions of this experienced old
plainsman. But he could n't help reminding
him that it would take a very big army to fol-
low up every stray band of Indians, provided
any of the tribes should take a notion to go on
the war-path.
"Just about this time, though, the men that
were stationed at Fort Riley are all down at
Lawrence to keep the Free State people from
sweeping the streets with Free State brooms,
or something that-a-way," said Younkins, de-
termined to have his gibe at the useless sol-
diery, as he seemed to think them. Oscar
was interested at once. Anything that related
to the politics of Kansas the boy listened to
greedily.
"It's something like this," explained Youn-
kins. "You see the Free State men have got
a government there at Lawrence which is law-
ful under the Topeka Legislatur', as it were.
The Border State men have got a city gov-
ernment under the Lecompton Legislatur';
and so the two are quarreling to see which
shall govern the city; 't is n't much of a city,
either."
"But what have the troops from Fort Riley
to do with it ? I don't see that yet," said Oscar,
with some heat.
Well," said Younkins, I am a poor hand at
politics, but the way I understand it is that the
Washington Government is in favor of the Bor-
der State fellows, and so the troops have been
sent down to stand by the mayor that belongs
to the Lecompton fellows. Leastways, that is
the way the sutler down to the post put it to
me when I was down there with the folks that
were fired on up to Buffalo Creek; I talked with
him about it yesterday. That's why I said they
were at Lawrence to prevent the streets from
being swept by Free State brooms. That is the
sutler's joke. See ?"
"That 's what I call outrageous," cried


599


Oscar, his eyes snapping with excitement.
" Here 's a people up here on the frontier being
massacred by Indians, while the Government
troops are down at Lawrence in a political
quarrel!"
The boys were so excited over this state of
things that they paid very little attention to
anything else while on their way back to the
cabin, full of the news of the day. Usually,
there was not much news to discuss on the
Fork.
"What 's that by the cabin-door ?" said
Sandy, falling back as he looked up the trail
and beheld a tall white, or light gray, animal
smelling around the door-step of the cabin, only
a half-mile away. It seemed to be about as
large as a full-grown calf, and it moved stealth-
ily about, and yet with a certain unconcern, as
if not used to being scared easily.
"It 's a wolf! cried Oscar. "The Sunday
that Uncle Aleck and I saw one from the bluff
yonder, he was just like that. Hush, Sandy,
don't talk so loud or you '11 frighten him off
before we can get a crack at him. Let 's go up
the trail by the ravine, and perhaps we can get
a shot before he sees us."
It was seldom that the boys stirred abroad
without firearms of some sort. This time they
had a shot-gun and a rifle with them, and, ex-
amining the weapons as they went, they ran
down into a dry gully, to follow which would
bring them unperceived almost as directly to
the cabin as by the regular trail. As noiselessly
as possible the boys ran up the gully trail, their
hearts beating high with expectation. It would
be a big feather in their caps if they could only
have a gray wolf's skin to show their elders on
their return from Chapman's.
You go round the upper side of the house
with your rifle, Oscar, and I '11 go round the
south side with the shot-gun," was Charlie's
advice to his cousin when they had reached
the spring at the head of the gully, back of the
log-cabin. With the utmost caution the two
boys crept around opposite corners of the house,
each hoping he would be lucky enough to
secure the first shot. Sandy remained behind,
waiting with suppressed excitement for the shot.
Instead of the report of a firearm, he heard
a peal of laughter from both boys.






THE BOY SETTLERS.


"What is it? he cried, rushing from his
place of concealment. What's the great joke ? "
"Nothing," said Oscar, laughing heartily,
"only that as I was stealing round the corner
here by the corral, Charlie was tiptoeing round
the other corner with his eyes bulging out of
his head as if he expected to see that wolf."
Yes," laughed Charlie, and if he had been
a little quicker, he would have fired at me. He
had his gun aimed right straight ahead as he
came around the corner of the cabin."
And that wolf is probably miles and miles
away from here by this time, while you two fel-
lows were sneaking around to find him. Just
as if he was going to wait here for you!" It
was Sandy's turn to laugh, then.
The boys examined the tracks left in the soft
loam of the garden by the strange animal, and
came to the conclusion that it must have been
a very large wolf, for its footsteps were deep as
if it were a heavy creature, and their size was
larger than that of any wolf-tracks they had
ever seen.
When the elders heard the story on their
arrival from Chapman's, that evening, Uncle
Aleck remarked, with some grimness, "So the
wolf is at the door at last, boys." The lads by
this understood that poverty could not be far
off; but they could not comprehend that pov-
erty could affect them in a land where so much
to live upon was running wild, so to speak.
"Who is this that rides so fast? queried
Charlie, a day or two after the wolf adventure,
as he saw a stranger riding up the trail from
the ford. It was very seldom that any visitor,
except the good Younkins, crossed their ford.
And Younkins always came over on foot.
Here was a horseman, who rode as if in
haste. The unaccustomed sight drew all hands
around the cabin to await the coming of the
stranger, who rode as if he were on some impor-
tant errand bent. It was Battles. His errand
was indeed momentous. A corporal from the
post had come to his claim, late in the night
before, bidding him warn all the settlers on the
Fork that the Cheyennes were coming down
the Smoky Hill, plundering, burning, and slay-
ing the settlers. Thirteen white people had
been killed in the Smoky Hill country, and the
savages were evidently making their way to the


fort, which at that time was left in an unpro-
tected condition. The commanding officer sent
word to all settlers that if they valued their
lives they would abandon their claims and fly
to the fort for safety. Arms and ammunition
would be furnished to all who came. Haste
was necessary, for the Indians were moving
rapidly down the Smoky Hill.
But the Smoky Hill is twenty-five or thirty
miles from here," said Mr. Bryant; why should
they strike across the plains between here and
there ? "
Battles did not know; but he supposed, from
his talk with the corporal, that it was expected
that the Cheyennes would not go quite to the
fort, but, having raided'the Smoky Hill country
down as near to the post as might seem safe,
they would strike across to the Republican Fork
at some narrow point between the two rivers,
travel up that stream, and so go back to the
plains from which they came, robbing and
burning by the way.
The theory seemed a reasonable one. Such
a raid was like Indian warfare.
"How many men are there at the post?"
asked Uncle Aleck.
"Ten men including the corporal and a lieu-
tenant of cavalry," replied Battles, who was a
pro-slavery man. "The rest are down at Law-
rence to suppress the rebellion."
So the commanding officer at the post wants
us to come down and help defend the fort,
which has been left to take care of itself while
the troops are at Lawrence keeping down the
Free State men," said Mr. Bryant, bitterly.
For my own part, I don't feel like going.
How is it with you, Aleck?"
I guess we had better take care of ourselves
and the boys, Charlie," said Uncle Aleck, cheer-
ily. It 's pretty mean for Uncle Sam to leave
the settlers to take care of themselves and the
post at this critical time, I know; but we can't
afford to quibble about that now. Safety is
the first consideration. What does Younkins
say ?" he asked of Battles.
"A rendezvous has been appointed at my
house to-night," said the man, "and Younkins
said he would be there before sundown. He
told me to tell you not to wait for him; he would
meet you there. He has sent his wife and chil-


600


[JUNE,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


dren over to Fuller's, and Fuller has agreed to
send them with Mrs. Fuller over to the Big
Blue, where there is no danger. Fuller will be
back to my place by midnight. There is no
time to fool away."
Here was an unexpected crisis. The coun-
try was evidently alarmed
and up in arms. An In-
dian raid, even if over
twenty miles away, was a
terror that they had not
reckoned on. After a
hurried consultation, the
Whittier settlers agreed
to be at the "randyvoo,"
as Battles called it, be-
fore daybreak next morn-
ing. They thought it
best to take his advice
and hide what valuables
they had in the cabin,
make all snug, and leave
things as if they never ex-
pected to see their home
again, and take their way
to the post as soon as
possible.
It was yet early morn-
ing, for Mr. Battles had
wasted no time in warn-
ing the settlers as soon
as he had received notice
from the Fort. They had
all the day before them
for their preparations. So
the settlers, leaving other
plans for the day, went
zealously to work pack-
ing up and secreting in
the thickets and the gully
the things they thought
most valuable and were least willing to spare.
Clothing, crockery, and table knives and forks
were wrapped up in whatever came handy
and were buried in holes dug in the plowed
ground. Lead, bullets, slugs, and tools of va-
rious kinds were buried or concealed in the
forks of trees, high up and out of sight. Where
any articles were buried in the ground, a fire
was afterwards built on the surface so that no
VOL. XVIII.-44.


trace of the disturbed ground should be left
to show the expected redskins that goods had
been there concealed. They lamented that a
sack of flour and a keg of molasses could not
be put away, and that their supply of side-meat,
which had cost them a long journey to Manhat-


THE RETREAT TO BATTLES'S.


tan, must be abandoned to the foe-if he came
to take it. But everything that could be hidden
in trees or buried in the earth was so disposed
of as rapidly as possible.
Perhaps the boys, after the first flush of ap-
prehension had passed, rather enjoyed the nov-
elty and the excitement. Their spirits rose as
they privately talked between themselves of the
real Indian warfare of which this was a fore-


6oi






THE BOY SETTLERS.


taste. They hoped that it would be nothing
worse. When the last preparations were made,
and they were ready to depart from their home,
uncertain whether they would ever see it again,
Sandy, assisted by Oscar, composed the follow-
ing address. It was written in a big boyish hand
on a sheet of letter-paper, and was left on the
table in the middle of their cabin:
GOOD MISTER INDIAN: We are leaving in a hurry and
we want you to be careful of the fire when you come.
Don't eat the corn-meal in the sack in the corner; it is
poisoned. The flour is full of crickets, and crickets are
not good for the stomach. Don't fool with the matches,
nor waste the molasses. Be done as you would do by,
for that is the golden rule.
Yours truly,
THE WHITTIER SETTLERS.
Even in the midst of their uneasiness and
trouble, their elders laughed at this unique com-
position, although Mr. Bryant thought that
the boys had mixed their version of the golden
rule. Sandy said that no Cheyenne would be
likely to improve upon it. So, with many mis-
givings, the little party closed the door of their
home behind them, and took up their line of
march to the rendezvous.
The shortest way to Battles's was by a ford
farther down the river and not by the way of the
Younkins place. So, crossing the creek on a
fallen tree near where Sandy had shot his fa-
mous flock of ducks, and then steering straight
across the flat bottom-land on the opposite side,
the party struck into a trail that led through
the cottonwoods skirting the west bank of the
stream. The moon was full and the darkness of
the grove through which they wended their way
in single file was lighted by long shafts of moon-
beams that streamed through the dense growth.
The silence, save for the steady tramp of the lit-
tle expedition, was absolute. Now and again a
night-owl hooted, or a sleeping hare, scared from
its form, scampered away into the underbrush;
but these few sounds made the solitude only
more oppressive. Charlie, bringing up the rear,
noted the glint of the moonlight on the bar-
rels of the firearms carried by the party ahead
of him, and all the romance in his nature was
kindled by the thought that this was frontier
life in the Indian country. Not far away, he
thought, as he turned his face to the south-
ward, the cabins of settlers along the Smoky


Hill were burning, and death and desolation
marked the trail of the cruel Cheyennes.
Now and again Sandy, shivering in the
chill and dampness of the wood, fell back and
whispered to Oscar, who followed him in the
narrow trail, that this would be awfully jolly
if he were not so sleepy. The lad was accus-
tomed to go to bed soon after dark; it was
now late into the night.
All hands were glad when the big double
cabin of the Battles family came in sight about
midnight, conspicuous on a rise of the rolling
prairie and black against the sky. Lights
were burning brightly in one end of the cabin;
in the other end a part of the company had
gone to sleep, camping on the floor. Hot
coffee and corn-bread were ready for the new-
comers, and Younkins, with a tender regard
for the lads, who were unaccustomed to milk
when at home, brought out a big pan of
delicious cool milk for their refreshment. Al-
together, as Sandy confessed to himself, an
Indian scare was not without its fun. He list-
ened with great interest to the tales that the set-
tlers had to tell of the exploits of Gray Wolf,"
the leader and chief of the Cheyennes. He
was a famous man in his time, and some of the
elder settlers of Kansas will even now remem-
ber his name with awe. The boys were not
at all desirous of meeting the Indian foe, but
they secretly hoped that if they met any of
the redskins they would see the far-famed Gray
Wolf.
While the party, refreshed by their late sup-
per, found a lodging anywhere on the floor
of the cabin, a watch was set outside, for the
Indians might pounce upon them at any hour
of the night or day. Those who had mounted
guard during the earlier part of the evening
went to their rest. Charlie, as he dropped off
to sleep, heard the footsteps of the sentry out-
side and said to himself, half in jest, The Wolf
is at the door."
But no wolf came to disturb their slumbers.
The bright and cheerful day, and the song of
birds dispelled the gloom of the night, and fear
was lifted from the minds of the anxious set-
tlers, some of whom, separated from wives and
children, were troubled with thoughts of homes
despoiled and crops destroyed. Just as they


LUNE,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


had finished breakfast and were preparing for
the march to the fort, now only two or three
miles away, a mounted man in the uniform of
a United States dragoon dashed up to the
cabin, and, with a flourish of soldierly man-
ner, informed the company that the command-
ing officer at the post had information that the
Cheyennes, instead of crossing over to the Re-
publican as had been expected, or attacking
the fort, had turned and gone back the way
they came. All was safe, and the settlers
might go home assured that there was no
danger to themselves or their families.
Having delivered this welcome message in
a grand and semi-official manner, the corporal
dismounted from his steed, in answer to a press-
ing invitation from Battles, and unbent himself
like an ordinary mortal to partake of a very
hearty breakfast of venison, corn-bread, and
coffee. The company unslung their guns and
rifles, sat down again, and regaled themselves
with pipes, occasional cups of strong coffee, and
yet more exhilarating tales of the exploits and
adventures of Indian slayers of the earlier time
on the Kansas frontier. The great Indian
scare was over. Before night fell again, every
settler had gone his own way to his claim, glad
that things were no worse, but grumbling at
Uncle Sam for the niggardliness which had
left the region so defenseless when an emer-
gency had come.

CHAPTER XVIII.
DISCOURAGEMENT.

RIGHT glad were our settlers to see their log-
cabin home peacefully sleeping in the autumnal
sunshine, as they returned along the familiar
trail from the river. They had gone back by
the way of the Younkins place and had partaken
of the good man's hospitality. Younkins thought
it best to leave his brood with his neighbors
on the Big Blue for another day. "The old
woman," he said, "would feel sort of scary-
like until things had well blown over. She
was all right where she was, and he would try
to get on alone for a while. So the boys, under
his guidance, cooked a hearty luncheon which
they heartily enjoyed. Younkins had milk and
eggs, both of which articles were luxuries to


the Whittier boys, for on their ranch they had
neither cow nor hens.
"Why can't we have some hens this fall,
Daddy ? asked Sandy, luxuriating in a big bowl
of custard sweetened with brown sugar, which
the skilful Charlie had compounded. We can
build a hen-house there by the corral, under the
lee of the cabin, and make it nice and warm for
the winter. Battles has got hens to sell, and
perhaps Mr. Younkins would be willing to sell
us some of his."
If we stay, Sandy, we will have some fowls;
but we will talk about that by and by," said his
father.
"Stay ?" echoed Sandy. Why, is there any
notion of going back? Back from Bleeding
Kansas ? Why, Daddy, I 'm ashamed of you."
Mr. Howell smiled and looked at his brother-
in-law. Things do not look very encouraging
for a winter in Kansas, bleeding or not bleed-
ing; do they, Charlie?"
Well, if you appeal to me, Father," replied
the lad, I shall be glad to stay and glad to go
home. But, after all, I must say I don't exactly
see what we can do here this winter. There is
no farm work that can be done. But it would
cost an awful lot of money to go back to Dixon,
unless we took back everything with us and went
as we came. Would n't it ? "
Younkins did not say anything, but he looked
encouragingly at Charlie while the other two
men discussed the problem. Mr. Bryant said
it was likely to be a hard winter; they had no
corn to sell, none to feed to their cattle. But
corn is so cheap that the settlers over on Solo-
mon's Fork say they will use it for fuel this win-
ter. Battles told me so. I 'd like to see a fire
of corn on the cob; they say it makes a hot fire
burned that way. Corn-cobs without corn hold
the heat a long time. I 've tried it."
"It is just here, boys," said Uncle Aleck.
"The folks at home are lonesome; they write,
you know, that they want to come out before
the winter sets in. But it would be mighty hard
for women out here, this coming winter, with
big hulking fellows like us to cook for and with
nothing for us to do. Everything to eat would
have to be bought. We have n't even an ear
of corn for ourselves or our cattle. Instead
of selling corn at the post, as we expected, we


603






THE BOY SETTLERS.


should have to buy of our neighbors, Mr. Youn-
kins here, and Mr. Fuller, and would be obliged
to buy our flour and groceries at the post, or
down at Manhattan; and they charge two prices
for things out here; they have to, for it costs
money to haul stuff all the way from the river."
"That's so," said Younkins resignedly. He
was thinking of making a trip to the river," as
the settlers around there always called the Mis-
souri, one hundred and fifty miles distant. But
Younkins assured his friends that they were
welcome to live in his cabin where they still
were at home, for another year, if they liked,
and he would haul from the river any purchases


fully to hear them talking about going back
to Illinois.
But when the settlers reached home and found
amusement and some little excitement in the
digging up of their household treasures and put-
ting things in place once more, the thought of
leaving this home in the Far West obtruded
itself rather unpleasantly on the minds of all
of them, although nobody spoke of what each
thought. Oscar had hidden his precious violin
high up among the rafters of the cabin, being
willing to lose it only if the cabin were burned.
There was absolutely no other place where it
would be safe to leave it. He climbed to the


N. \t'y-'


"HOME, SWEET HOME."


that they might make. He was expecting to be
ready to start for Leavenworth in a few days,
as they knew, and one of them could go down
with him and lay in a few supplies. His team
could haul enough for all hands. If not, why
then they could double up the two teams and
bring back half of Leavenworth, if they had
the money to buy so much. He hated dread-


loft overhead and brought it forth with great
glee, laid his cheek lovingly on its body and
played a familiar air. Engrossed in his music,
he played on and on until he ran into the
melody of Home, Sweet Home," to which he
had added many curious and artistic variations.
Don't play that, Oscar;. you make me home-
sick cried Charlie, with a suspicious moisture


[JUNE,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


in his eyes. It was all very well for us to
hear that when this was the only home we had
or expected to have; but Daddy and Uncle
Charlie have set us to thinking about the home
in Illinois, and that will make us all homesick,
I really believe."
Here is all my' funny business' wasted," cried
Sandy. No Indian came to read my comic
letter, after all. I suppose the mice and crickets
must have found some amusement in it; I saw
any number of them scampering away when I
opened the door; but I guess they are the only
living things that have been here since we went
away."'
Is n't it queer that we should be gone like
this for nearly two days," said Oscar, "leaving
everything behind us, and come back and know
that nobody has been any nearer to the place
than we have, all the time ? I can't get used
to it."
My little philosopher," said his Uncle Char-
lie, we are living in the wilderness; and if you
were to live here always, you would feel, by and
by, that every new-comer was an interloper;
you would resent the intrusion of any more
settlers here, interfering with our freedom and
turning out their cattle to graze on the ranges
that seem to be so like our own, now. That's
what happens to frontier settlers, everywhere."
Why, yes," said Sandy, I s'pose we should
all be like that man over on the Big Blue that
Mr. Fuller tells about, who moved away when
a new-comer took up a claim two miles and
a half from him, because, as he thought, the
country was getting too crowded. For my
part, I am willing to have this part of Kansas
crowded to within, say, a mile and a half of us,
and no more. Hey, Charlie? "
But the prospect of that side of the Republican
Fork being over-full with settlers did not seem
very imminent about that time. From parts of
Kansas nearer to the Missouri River than they
were, they heard of a slackening in the stream
of migration. The prospect of a cold winter
had cooled the ardor of the politicians who had
determined, earlier in the season, to hold the
Territory against all comers. Something like a
truce had been tacitly agreed on, and there was
a cessation of hostilities for the present. The
troops had been marched back from Lawrence


to the post, and no more elections were coming
on for the present in any part of the Territory.
Mr. Bryant, who was the only ardent politician
of the company, thought that it would be a good
plan to go back to Illinois for the winter. They
could come out again in the spring and bring
the rest of the two families with them. The
land would not run away while they were gone.
It was with much reluctance that the boys
accepted this plan of their elders. They were
especially sorry that it was thought best that the
two men should stay behind and windup affairs,
while the three lads went down to the river with
Younkins and thence home by steamer from
Leavenworth down the Missouri to St. Louis.
But, after a few days of debate, this was thought
to be the best thing that could be done. It was
on a dull, dark November day that the boys,
wading for the last time the cold stream of the
fork, crossed over to Younkins's early in the
morning, while the sky was red with the dawn-
ing, carrying their light baggage with them.
They had ferried their trunks across the day
before, using the ox-cart for the purpose and
loading all into Younkins's team, ready for the
homeward journey.
Now that the bustle of departure had come,
it did not seem so hard to leave the new home
on the Republican as they had expected. It had
been agreed that the two men should follow in
a week, in time to take the last steamboat going
down the river in the fall, from Fort Benton,
before the closing of navigation for the season.
Mr. Bryant had, unknown to the boys, written
home to Dixon directing that money be sent in
a letter addressed to Charlie, in care of a well-
known firm in Leavenworth. They would find
it there on their arrival, and that would ena-
ble them to pay their way down the river to St.
Louis and thence home by the railroad.
But suppose the money should n't turn
up ? asked Charlie, when told of the money
awaiting them. He was accustomed to look on
the dark side of things sometimes, so the rest
of them thought. What then ? "
"Well, I guess you will have to walk home,"
said his uncle, with a smile. But don't worry
about that. At the worst, you can work your
passage to St. Louis, and there you will find
your uncle, Oscar G. Bryant, of the firm of






THE BOY SETTLERS.


Bryant, Wilder & Co. I '11 give you his ad-
dress, and he will see you through, in case of
accidents. But there will be no accidents. What
is the use of borrowing trouble about that ? "
They did not borrow any trouble, and as they
drove away from the scenes that had grown
so familiar to them they looked forward, as all
boys would, to an adventurous voyage down the
Missouri, and a welcome home to their mothers
and their friends in dear old Dixon.
The nights were now cold and the days
chilly. They had cooked a goodly supply of
provisions for their journey, for they had not
much ready money to pay for fare by the way.
At noon they stopped by the roadside and
made a pot of hot coffee, opened their stores of
provisions and lunched merrily, gipsy-fashion,
caring nothing for the curious looks and inquisi-
tive questions of other wayfarers who passed
them. For the first few nights they attempted
to sleep in the wagon. But it was fearfully cold,
and the wagon-bed, cluttered up with trunks,
guns, and other things, gave them very little
room. Miserable and sore, they resolved to
spend their very last dollar, if need be, in paying
for lodging at the wayside inns and hospitable
cabins of the settlers along the road. The
journey homeward was not nearly so merry as
that of the outward trip. But new cabins had
been built along their route, and the lads found
much amusement in hunting up their former
camping-places as they drove along the military
road to Fort Leavenworth.
In this way, sleeping at the farm-houses and
such casual taverns as had grown up by the
highway, and usually getting their supper and
breakfast where they slept, they crept slowly to-
ward the river. Sandy was the cashier of the
party, although he had preferred that Charlie,
being the eldest, should carry their slender
supply of cash. Charlie would not take that
responsibility; but, as the days went by, he
rigorously required an accounting every morn-
ing; he was very much afraid that their money
would not hold out until they reached Leaven-
worth.
Twenty miles a day with an ox-team was
fairly good traveling; and it was one hundred
and fifty miles from the Republican to the
Missouri, as the young emigrants traveled the


road. A whole week had been consumed by
the tedious trip when they drove into the busy
and bustling town of Leavenworth, one bright
autumnal morning. All along the way they
had picked up much information about the
movement of steamers, and they were delighted
to find that the steamboat "New Lucy" was
lying at the levee, ready to sail on the afternoon
of the very day they would be in Leavenworth.
They camped, for the last time, in the outskirts
of the town, a good-natured Border State man
affording them shelter in his hay-barn, where
they slept soundly all through their last night in
Bleeding Kansas.
The New Lucy, from Fort Benton on the
upper Missouri, was blowing off steam as they
drove down to the levee. Younkins helped
them unload their baggage, wrung their hands,
one after another, with real tears in his eyes, for
he had learned to love these hearty, happy lads,
and then drew away with his cattle to pen them
for the day and night that he should be there.
Charlie and Oscar went to the warehouse of
Osterhaus & Wickham, where they were to
find the letter from home, the precious letter
containing forty dollars to pay their expenses
homeward.
Sandy sat on the pile of trunks watching with
great interest the novel sight of hurrying pas-
sengers, different from any people he ever saw
before; black "roustabouts," or deck-hands,
tumbling the cargo and the firewood on board,
singing, shouting, and laughing the while, the
white mates overseeing the work with many
hard words, and the captain, tough and swarthy,
superintending from the upper deck the mates
and all hands. A party of nice-looking, citified
people, as Sandy thought them, attracted his
attention on the upper deck, and he mentally
wondered what they could be doing here, so far
in the wilderness.
"Car' yer baggage aboard, boss ? asked a
lively young negro, half-clad, and hungry-look-
ing.
No, not yet," answered Sandy, feeling in his
trousers' pocket the last quarter of a dollar that
was left them. "Not yet. I am not ready to
go aboard till my mates come." The hungry-
looking darky made a rush for another more
promising passenger and left Sandy lounging


606


[JUFE,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


where the other lads soon after found him.
Charlie's face was a picture of despair. Oscar
looked very grave, for him.
"What 's up?" cried Sandy, starting from
his seat. "Have you seen a ghost? "
"Worse than that," said Charlie. "Some-
body 's stolen the money! "
Stolen the money?" echoed Sandy, with
vague terror, the whole extent of the catastrophe
flitting before his mind. Why, what on earth
do you mean? "
Oscar explained that they had found the
letter, as they expected, and he produced it,
written by the two loving mothers at home.
They said that they had made up their minds to
send fifty dollars, instead of the forty that Uncle
Charlie had said would be enough, It was in
ten-dollar notes, five of them; at least, it had
been so when the letter left Dixon. When it
was opened in Leavenworth, it was empty,
save for the love and tenderness that were in
it. Sandy groaned.
The lively young darky came up again with
"Car' yer baggage aboard, boss ?"
It was sickening.
"What's to be done now? said Charlie, in
deepest dejection, as he sat on the pile of bag-
gage that now looked so useless and needless.
" I just believe some of the scamps I saw loaf-
ing around there in that store stole the money
out of the letter. See here; it was sealed with
that confounded new-fangled mucilagee'; gum-
stickum I call it. Anybody could feel those five
bank-notes inside of the letter, and anybody
could steam it open, take out the money, and
seal it up again. We have been robbed."
"Let's go and see the heads of the house
there at Osterhaus & Wickham's. They will see
us righted," cried Sandy indignantly. "I won't
stand it, for one."
No use," groaned Charlie. We saw Mr.
Osterhaus. He was very sorry -oh, yes!-
awfully sorry; but he did n't know us, and he
had no responsibility for the letters that came to
his place. It was only an accommodation to
people that he took them in his care, anyhow.
Oh, it's no use talking! Here we are, stranded
in a strange place, knowing no living soul in the
whole town but good old Younkins, and nobody
knows where he is. He could n't lend us the


money, even if we were mean enough to ask
him. Good old Younkins!"
Younkins!" cried Sandy, starting to his feet.
"He will give us good advice. He has got a
great head, has Younkins. I '11 go and ask him
what to do. Bless me! There he is now!"
for as he spoke, the familiar slouching figure
of their neighbor came around the corer of a
warehouse on the levee.
Why don't yer go aboard, boys ? The boat
leaves at noon, and it's past twelve now. I just
thought I 'd come down and say good-by-like,
for I 'm powerful sorry to have ye go."
The boys explained to the astonished and
grieved Younkins how they had been wrecked,
as it were, almost in sight of the home port.
The good man nodded his head gravely as he
listened, softly jingled the few gold coins in his
trousers' pocket, and said, "Well, boys, this is
the wust scald I ever did see. If I was n't so
dreadful hard up, I 'd give ye what I 've got."
That's not to be thought of, Mr. Younkins,"
said Charlie, with dignity and gratitude, for we
can't think of borrowing money to get home
with. It would be better to wait until we can
write home for more. We might earn enough
to pay our board." And Charlie, with a sigh,
looked around at the unsympathetic and hur-
rying throngs.
"You 've got baggage as security for your
passage to St. Louis. Go aboard and tell the
clerk how you are fixed. Your pa said as how
you would be all right when you got to St. Louis.
Go and brace' the clerk."
This was a new idea to the boys. They had
never heard of such a thing. Who would dare
to ask such a great favor ? The fare from Leav-
enworth to St. Louis was twelve dollars each.
They had known all about that. And they
knew, too, that the price included their meals
on the way down.
I'11 go brace the clerk," said Sandy stoutly;
and before the others could put in a word he
was gone.
The clerk was a handsome, stylish-looking
man, with a good-natured countenance that re-
assured the timid boy at once. Mustering up
his waning courage, Sandy stated the case to
him, telling him that that pile of trunks and
guns on the levee was theirs, and that they


607






THE BOY SETTLERS.


would leave it on board when they got to St.
Louis until they had found their uncle and
secured the money for their fares.
The handsome clerk looked sharply at the
lad while he was telling his story. You 've
got an honest face, my 'little man. I '11 trust
you. Bring aboard your baggage. People spar
their way on the river every day in the year;
you need n't be ashamed of it. Accidents will
happen, you know," and the busy clerk turned
away to another customer.
With a light heart Sandy ran ashore. His
waiting and anxiously watching comrades saw
by his face that he had been successful, before
he spoke.
"That 's all fixed," he cried blithely.
"Bully boy said Younkins admiringly.
Car' yer baggage aboard, boss ?" asked the
lively young darky.
"Take it along," said Sandy, with a lordly
air. They shook hands with Younkins once
more, this time with more fervor than ever.
Then the three lads filed on board the steam-
boat. The gang-plank was hauled in, put out
again for the last tardy passenger, once more


taken aboard, and then the stanch steamer
New Lucy was on her way down the turbid
Missouri.
Oh, Sandy," whispered Charlie, you gave
that darky the last cent we had for bringing our
baggage on board. We ought to have lugged
it aboard ourselves."
Lugged it aboard ourselves ? And all these
people that we are going to be passengers with
for the next four or five days watching us while
we did a roustabout's work? Not much."
Charlie was silent. The great stern-wheel of
the New Lucy revolved with a dashing and a
churning sound. The yellow banks of the Mis-
souri sped by them. The sacred soil of Kansas
slid past as in a swiftly moving panorama. One
home was hourly growing nearer, while another
was fading away there into the golden autumnal
distance.
"We don't 'cross the prairies as of old our
fathers crossed the sea,' any more; do we, Char-
lie?" said Oscar.
No," said the lad. "We may or may not
be here to see it; but Kansas will be the home-
stead of the free, for all that. Mind what I say."


HOW DID SHE TELL?
(A True Storn.)

By CAROLINE EVANS.

IN little Daisy's dimpled hand two bright, new pennies shone;
One was for Rob (at school just then), the other Daisy's own.
While waiting Rob's return she rolled both treasures round the floor.
When suddenly they disappeared, and one was seen no more.
" Poor Daisy. Is your penny lost ? was asked in accents kind.
" Why, no, mine 's here she quickly said. It's Rob's I cannot find."


608











A v,


By FRANK M. CHAPMAN.


\II ll) !ii"ff l You boys and girls
of the country, with
your shaded lawns and grassy commons, your
fields and woods, tell me, did you ever think how
the boys and girls of cities exist without ever a
sight of nature's playgrounds ? I do not mean
your little city cousins who visit you when the
leaves come, or who flee to the seashore with
the first breath of summer. I mean the real
city boys and girls to whom the word "country"
is only a name, and whose ideas of a rolling
lawn are ever associated with a warning to
"keep off! "
Just think of it, the grass, which was surely in-
tended for running and jumping, wrestling and
tumbling, base-ball and cricket, and almost every
sport known to boyhood, is for them only a thing
to be looked at and wished for in vain!
Now, without all your great natural advan-
tages, what is it these city children do ? Don't
imagine they do not play, for they do. They
play every game that you know, and probably
play some of them even better-a true state-
ment, though you may question it. Play is as
natural and necessary for children as it is for
kittens. The life, the animation of youth, must
find physical expression. The body outgrows
the brain; the mind as yet demands but a small
part of the rapidly increasing strength; hands
and arms, feet and legs, are safety-valves for the
escape of the rest.
Because the playground of these city boys
and girls is restricted to a cobbled street, do
you suppose they are going to forfeit one of
the rights of youth ? Not at all. The crowded
condition of our thoroughfares and the whole


force of city policemen cannot restrain their
inborn instinct for play.
Come with me from your boundless fields,
and after watching these unknown kin of yours
at their games, tell me frankly whether you, with
the same difficulties to encounter, could do one
half so well. I will take you to a west-side
street, uptown in New York; I pass through it
daily, and there have seen the sights you and I
may witness together. It is a very busy street.
Two lines of horse-cars pass through it, and a
railway terminus at the river adds largely to the
number of passing vehicles. Let us stroll quietly
up and down this one block. Here tenement
houses stretch in one unbroken line from
avenue to avenue. It is not unusual to see
here, on pleasant afternoons, and counting only
one side of the street, from sixty to eighty chil-
dren, all under fifteen years of age. I have
counted ninety-six. So you see we shall have
plenty of players for any game you may mention.
We will take no note of the workers, worthy
as they may be of our attention. You will see
them of all sizes, doing everything boys of their
ages can do, from the very little, barefooted
youngster scarcely tall enough to catch the
railing of a passing car and swing himself aboard
with his bundle of daily papers, to the larger
boy carrying a bootblack's outfit on his back.
They are workers, and in their work have little
in common with you. We have come to see
how boys and girls can play your field-games
in this crowded city street.
First, let us notice the girls. Their quieter
games do not meet with the drawbacks which
beset those of their brothers. Steps, doorways,


)alvgrou"dc.






6Io

and sidewalks form their play-
grounds. Here they sit and
chatter, or, with their babies,"
promenade up and down in
quaint imitation of their elders.
But their babies" are not all
of wax or of china, and per-
haps many a little daughter
finds carrying a baby brother
or sister almost as large as she
is, too realistic to be called
play. Neither are the baby-
carriages all make-believe ";
and the beautiful, pinkcheeked,
blue-eyed, golden-haired dolly,
in brightly colored dress, places
in sad contrast the poorly clad,
sickly looking infant riding at
her side.
Seated in a doorway you
will see a group deep in the
mysteries of jack-stones, which
with girls takes the place of
Smumblety-peg"; or, in some
spot not directly in the way
of passers-by, a small party is
making one of the unending


A CITY PLAYGROUND.


A GAME OF "JACK-STONES."


[JUNE,


A-














THE LITTLE MOTHER.
visits to Miss Virginia Jones,"
who receives them with dignity
befitting the occasion. There
are many things these girls do;
they race hoops, and skip ropes;
they play house, of course, and
have "company" ; and are very
earnest and serious about it all.
But most of their games are
far beyond my understanding,
though perhaps you other girls
might find nothing puzzling in
them.
With the boys' games I am
more at home. Let us see
whether you will not learn from
these boys some games to take
to your friends out of town.
First and foremost comes
base-ball. If any one doubts the
universal popularity of this game,
one afternoon upon this street
will convince him that the Amer-






A CITY PLAYGROUND.


ican boys' love of base-ball has become hered-
itary. It seems almost as if these boys no
sooner left the cradle than a base-ball found
its way into their hands. They commence
to play as soon as they can roll a ball across
the pavement. From a real game, with nine
"men" on a side and three bases, we shall
see everything in ball-playing, down to the
solitary youngster who rolls the ball up an
awning and catches it as it returns to him. And
these boys can play
base-ball, too. I hesi-
tate to admit it, for I
was a country boy;
but I '11 warrant you
that from the inhabi-
tants of that block I
can select nine boys,
none of whom shall
be over ten years of
age, who can defeat
the best nine of thir- i
teen-year-old fellows
your village can pro- .
duce.
They play in the
streets; they play on I
the sidewalk; and
they go at it with a -
vim and earnestness
one grows enthusias-
tic in watching. They
pitch curves," and
why their catchers' LITTLE A
intent and maskless little faces are not more
frequently damaged by the bat they "catch off"
of, no one can say. All this, remember, on the
cobblestones, with slippery car-tracks dividing
the "field," and wagons, drays, and cars con-
stantly passing. On any field, a quick and
practised eye is required to measure the arc of
a fly ball," and to select the spot from which
it may be captured; but when the ground is a
crowded street, and there is added the more or
less rapidly passing vehicle, the chances are
even that the fielder may get under a horse's
hoofs and the descending "fly" at the same
time. Many narrow escapes have I seen, but
somehow the active little bodies always manage
to be missed.


But the cars and wagons and pedestrians are
as nothing; the players look out for the former
two, the last must care for themselves if they
wish to avoid a batted ball or a runner making
a frantic dash for "first." What these boys
really mind, because it is an effectual preventive
of ball-playing, is the blue-coated policeman,
known by the boys as a "cop," an abbrevia-
tion of "copper," the origin of which name is
uncertain.












S.. 4


NNIE ROONEY AND HER BIG BROTHER.
Here is a game in active progress; there is
intense excitement; shouts of encouragement
fill the air. Turn away your head for an instant.
now look again. Where are our players ? Not
one of them to be seen; only a few boys stroll-
ing along the sidewalk; not a bat nor ball in
sight. What does it all mean ? Truly, you have
never seen so abrupt an ending to a game of
ball. But look; coming up the street, a block
or more away, in all the stateliness of blue uni-
form and brass buttons, idly twirling his club,
appears the awe-inspiring "copper." For you
must remember that it is illegal to play base-
ball in the street, and every player is liable to
imprisonment. How would you like to have
one of your games so interrupted ? Is the






[JUNE,


A CITY PLAYGROUND.


'ii~.~~ ;


BASE-BALL. "CALL THE GAME! THE COP'S GOT THE BALL!"


game ended? By no means; wait a moment,
this is only time." Slowly the retreating blue-
coat fades in the distance; then like magic each
player resumes his place, and the game is re-
sumed with all its former ardor.
Real base-ball, however, has been obliged to
give way in a measure to ball-games more suited
to the surroundings: We shall see, of course,


9'


all varieties of old cats," and an abundance
of fungoes or, batter up." But several sub-
stitutes have been evolved, and these, I think,
will be new to many of you. One bears some
resemblance to cricket, and may be an imitation
of that game. Two bricks are placed on the
sidewalk, opposite each other and about four
inches apart; across them is laid a small stick


.24


A GAME OF DUCK ON THE ROCK."


612


,.I





A CITY PLAYGROUND.


six or eight inches in length. This constitutes
a "wicket" before which the batsman stands.
The bowler occupies the usual position and
rolls the ball over the pavement at the wicket
trying to dislodge the stick resting on the bricks.
If the stick is dislodged, or the batsman is
caught out, or is thrown out while running,
a new batsman takes his place. In this game
but one base, generally a neighboring telegraph-
pole, is required.


out, attempts to run to a base and return before
the ball can be fielded home." Interesting as
we shall find this base-ball in its endless varia-
tions, and fascinating as are these miniature
but expert little players, we must not spend all
our time with them.
Look above you at the telegraph-wires.
Sooner or later they become the natural end of
every kite flown in this street; and the tattered
fragments with which the wires are adorned


PLAYING MARBLES ON THE SIDEWALK.-

PLAYING MARBLES ON THE SIDEWALK.


Another and more singular game has for its
foundation an ash-barrel. Across the top of
this is placed a board two or three inches in
width, which projects about the same distance
over the rims of the barrel. On one of these
projecting ends a ball is balanced; the bats-
man then takes his bat and with all his strength
strikes the other end of the board. The ball
flies up and away in a before-unknown direc-
tion, and the batsman, should he not be caught


bear witness that kite-flying is a popular pas-
time, even if disastrous to the kites. In this
sport you may fairly claim superiority. Com-
paratively few of these boys know how to fly a
kite; they never seem able to manage the tail.
Kites here can only be successfully flown from
the house-tops, and we will not leave our street
for a visit to so dangerous a resort.
Marbles we shall see, of every kind, "mig-
gles" and alleys," tawss" and "agates." Gen-







erally the games are played in a ring drawn inch of leather, so you see that in theory they
with chalk on the sidewalk, for holes are not may carry the cobblestones with ease so far as
made or found here so easily as they are in your the sucker is concerned. I confess I cannot
playground. see wherein the great popularity of this sport lies,
After every rain-storm there is an outbreak of unless it be that owing to slight irregularities in
"suckers." Do you know what a "sucker" is ? the surface of the leather the "sucker" rarely
A circular piece of rather heavy leather, two or adheres with all its sucking-power, and for this
three inches in diameter, has a string passed reason it is considered quite a feat to carry a
through a hole in the center, and a large knot stone ten yards or more. So here arise the
both stops up the hole and prevents the string spirit of competition and desire to excel, which
from pulling through. For some unknown are the life and mainspring of every game.
reason, "suckers" are at times very popular; Should the rain-storm be unusually severe, the
nearly every boy in the street has one, and the overcharged sewers cannot convey the volume
curbs will be dotted with figures soaking these of water flowing into them, and the gutters
leather disks in the muddy water of the gutters. develop into rushing brooklets, or occasionally,
For, to be effective, the sucker must be thor- where there is a slight depression in the street,
oughly moistened, when it becomes sufficiently small ponds are formed. Now every boy
pliable to adhere.closely to the paving or cob- becomes a sailor, and fleets of odd craft are
blestone upon which the boys pat it with their launched in these muddy waters. At this time,
too, they come as near
Bathing as they ever do,
i i I fear.
S To pass from water to
i'I fire, these boys have one
it lr' amusement which I hope
'- you will not care to imi-
,j~i!.tate. For lack of a better
,. i i-' name I have called it
.' "playing tinker." As in
l--i9 most of their games, the
S'" i.-t, outfit for playing tinker is
i home-made, and consists
-. of an old tin can with a
bit of wire for a handle.
I 'As a source of supply, a
..--.. ''' f bonfire is also necessary;
Indeed, these are made
whenever any combus-
'-. tible material can be
gathered. Over and into
.g-- these fires boys dash with
the confidence of sala-
S- manders, but somehow
iz r.L--2- ly .... always manage to escape
being singed. From the
PLAYING STORE IN A NEW YORK STREET. bonfire, "the tinker"
feet. The air being completely driven out from scrapes a mass of glowing coals into his pail,
between the leather and stone, the pressure then holding it by the wire handle he swings
caused by the weight of the air is all from it over his head, before him, behind him, in
above, fourteen pounds of it to every square rapid circles,-you perhaps have done the same


[JUNE,


614


A CITY PLAYGROUND.






1891.] A CITY PLAYGROUND. 615

thing with a pail of water,- and when you see freedom of the woods and fields. What can
twenty or thirty boys whirling these fire-pails we do to add to the joys of a youth which is
in the dusk of evening, and all of them yelling all too brief? As you enter your high-school,
lille little demons-why, you take the other these boys and girls enter on the serious duties
side of the street as you
walk to the ferry!
I suppose that we oc-
casional pedestrians are <
very naturally regarded
as trespassers, for is this -
not their playground andI 11I
the only one they have ? '
Let us remember this,
then, when we find our
way impeded by a game
of hop-scotch or "shin-
ny"; or when some nim- .
ble little fellow finds in .
us a convenient object -
around which to dodge
in an attempt to escape
the boy who is "it."
But we cannot hope
to see the games of a
year in one afternoon, -
for there is a great natu-
ral law which governs
the times and seasons of
boys' sports. What it is, --
no one can say; but it is
as regular in its workings
as the laws which control
the material universe. A GAME OF "SHINNY" ON THE AVENUE.


Is it instinct--an instinct like that of a
migratory bird which causes the simultaneous
appearance of tops, marbles, or kites, through-
out the town ? To-day not a marble is to be
seen; to-morrow every boy at school has his
pockets filled.
These children are undoubtedly happy in
their play, but I cannot watch them without
sadness and a regret that the fuller pleasures
of a country life will never be theirs at the
time they are best fitted to enjoy them. The
earnest pleading for a leaf or blossom from
the flower-laden tourist as, returning from his
outing, he passes up this street; the eager band
of merry children in pursuit of a wandering
butterfly-fairy-like visitor from a strange land
-tell of a formless longing for the unknown


of life. Then follows the struggle for existence,
and a severe one it usually is.
We cannot give all these children homes in
the country, we cannot give them all even an
outing there; but we can give them playgrounds
in the city; a very little plot here and there will
do. We have reserved great parks and squares
which we permit them to look at and some-
times to venture on. But as playgrounds, these
are practically useless; they are accessible to
comparatively few. A vacant building-lot in
the proper district is far more to the purpose.
Happy is the boy who lives near one! Notice
the evidences of constant use it shows, the small
base-ball diamond" clearly outlined, every
smooth place pitted with marble holes.
What better investment could our cities make





A CITY PLAYGROUND.


than to purchase small plots like this at inter- In giving the nation's future workers such an
vals throughout the city, tear down the build- opportunity to lay the foundation for stronger
ings, fill up the cellars, and leave them, with no and healthier bodies and brighter wits, the city
forbidding sign, open to the children? Their would reap abundant interest on the capital
little feet will soon grade and harden the ground. expended.








THE SLEEPING FLOWERS.

By EMILY DICKINSON.

HOSE are the little beds," I asked,
"Which in the valleys lie ?"
Some shook their heads, and others smiled,
And no one made reply.

S Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again.
"Whose are the beds-the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain ?"

"'T is daisy in the shortest;
A little further on,-
Nearest the door, to wake the first,-
Little leontodon.

'T is iris, sir, and aster,
Anemone and bell;
Batschia in the blanket red,
And chubby daffodil."

Meanwhile, at many cradles,
She rocked and gently smiled,
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever soothed a child.

Hush! Epigea wakens !
The crocus stirs her hood,-
Rhodora's cheek is crimson,
She's dreaming of the wood."

Then turning from them, reverent,
Their bedtime 't is," she said;
"The bumblebees will wake them
When April woods are red."


616












CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


BY J. O. DAVIDSON.


CHAPTER III.
THE PRISONERS.
OMITTING from our record of events the
occurrences of four days succeeding our last
chapter, we travel some three hundred miles
southward from the scene there described, and
find ourselves out of sight of land on the
China Sea. The hour is noon, and the day
is one in that lovely time to the eye of a
sailor or an artist, the trade-wind season in the
East. As far as the eye can reach, heaves and
rolls a vast expanse of bright blue water on
which a toy boat could sail straight away, day
after day on the same course, without a flaw in
the changeless wind to disturb it. The pure
blue of the heavens is flecked with little feathery
cloudlets like snowflakes, all drifting in end-
less procession toward the invisible distance
where ocean, heaven, and clouds melt into one
broad band of warm, golden color, somewhere
within which lies the invisible horizon. No
living thing disturbs the quiet of the scene,
excepting the motionless frigate-bird, that rests
aloft on wide outstretched wings, close beneath
the clouds, and a white-winged gull (lone fisher-
man of the sea) sweeping in narrowing circles
toward the water. The surface is broken now
and then, as the gull falls with a heavy plunge
to rise again overburdened with a fish too large
to manage. Suddenly, while struggling upward,
a shadow drops from heaven. There is a sharp
blow given, and the stunned gull drops its prey.
But before the silvery fish can reach its watery
home again, the noiseless frigate-bird falls upon
the stolen prey and soars tranquilly away with
its prize. The frightened gull also flies hur-
riedly off; but, after a short flight, wheels to
the left where a black speck appears on the
ocean's rim.


As in fancy we follow the gull's rapid flight,
we see that the object grows larger and larger
till the sails and spars of a junk are defined. As
the bird hovers above the junk, it is seen that
her sails are spread widely to the breeze as she
lightly skims over the water with helm lashed
fast.* The crew are at the gangway; a plank
extends over the side, its inner end lashed fast
to the trunnions of a gun; and surrounded by
the natives are our friends, Frank, Herrick,
Proddy, and Kanaka Joe. They stand closely
together, their arms are pinioned, their eyes
blindfolded, and they sway unsteadily on their
feet to the rolling of the junk; while the crew
about them carry on an excited discussion, as is
shown by their threatening looks and drawn
weapons. Evidently the pirate crew are dis-
cussing the fate of their captives.
What are they fighting over now ? growled
Herrick. Can't they kill us and be done with
it at once, without all this sing-song palaver? "
"All no wanchee kill us, Mr. Herrick," re-
plied Joe. Some wanchee take us their Cap-
tain, so he keep us, maybe, for plopper ransom."
"Golly!" cried Proddy, with a sickly grin
spreading over his dusky face, as he shook his
tightly bound arms, we's gone shore, dis time I
Who 's goin' to buy us thin scarecrows, Mas'r
Cap'n Frank?"
"Never mind, Proddy; we should be glad
of any chance of life. Even future slavery is
better than being shot now; for while there is
life, there is hope,' exclaimed Frank, who from
sheer weakness was leaning on Herrick.
Coolie no like shoot with powder, they say.
We walk plank like white man, or hang maybe,
they say," spoke up Joe, who had been quietly
listening to the crew's noisy discussion.
"Aye, aye, lads!" growled Herrick, as his
elbow touched the end of the board on the gun,


SThe trade-winds are so steady and gentle that the natives often fasten the helms amidships, allowing their
craft to sail themselves for hours at a time.
VOL. XVIII.-45. 6r7






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


" and here's the plank we are to walk! It's too
much of a dog's death," the old man resumed
bitterly. "Better to have died like men, fighting
in that cabin, with ten to one agin us, or to have
been blown up with the junk, as I meant we
should be, than to come to this!"
To be forced on the fatal plank, goaded along
its bending length, pierced with sharp knives,
and tortured until, in sheer agony, the last step
is taken, to fall into the sea with pinioned arms
and perish miserably-it was a fate to appal
the boldest.
Work my hand loose, some of ye, and we '11
die fighting yet! hissed. Ben, as he turned so
as to bring his wrists toward Proddy.
No, no!" cried Joe, in a whisper; they no
kill, now! They say they play toss-up-stick to
see what luck-joss says. One side win, we die;
other side win, we live!"
Golly! me wish other side good luck for
sure !" exclaimed Proddy, earnestly.
The crew then proceeded to decide the pris-
oners' fate by chance. Ten of them squatted on
the deck, five on a side, one row facing the
other. Then one sailor, tossing up two short
pieces of an ivory chop-stick, one of which was
marked, caught one in each hand; and held
out his closed hands. A sailor of the opposite
side guessed as to which hand held the marked
stick, indicating his choice by pointing with the
finger. If he guessed rightly, one point was
scored for his side, and it became his turn to
toss the sticks. After a given number of turns
had been played the scores were reckoned, and
the side having succeeded in winning the greater
number of guesses won the game.
For ten minutes the captives waited in a fear-
ful suspense, while the game progressed. Ben
had managed to slip the bandage from his eyes
just as the game was decided.
"Hooray, Mr. Frank, we're safe!" he
shouted, seizing and shaking Frank's pinioned
hand. The blow of a stick admonished him
to be silent, and amid the jabbering of the dis-
contented losers, and the mocking gibes of the
winning party, our friends were pushed roughly
to the mast, and there fastened securely by
ropes.
"Well, if I ever saw the beat of this for a
scrape! said Ben, after they had been left


aawhile to themselves. "We 've been 'most
murdered by cannon, and by coolie knives;
and if my pistol had n't snapped in that 'ere
powder-chest, we 'd all been blown to match-
sticks, the night of the fight! We've been
nearly beaten to death since, and pretty nigh
smothered down below, in this craft; just missed
walking the plank to Davy Jones, a moment
ago; and now here we are, trussed up to this
mast. And I 'm that starved that I can almost
feel my backbone from in front! Ah! Proddy,
if we only had some of your plum-duff and
skillygolee, we might brighten up a bit, under
this ill luck. Ah! that's the ticket!" he re-
sumed joyfully; and all looked up to find one
of the crew bringing some rice and salt fish.
The sailor set the food before them, and
untied one hand of each of the prisoners so
that they might help themselves to the food.
After the scanty meal was finished, each was
allowed to take a short walk along the deck.

CHAPTER IV.
THE BATTLE OF THE JUNKS.

IN the evening a junk was sighted; and
this occurrence seemed for a time to cause the
crew some uneasiness; but a nearer approach
proved the craft to be no larger than their own,
and they were reassured. Signals being made
from their junk and remaining unanswered, the
crew ran to their quarters and prepared for a
fight if necessary. The vessel was put before
the wind, and the larger sails were allowed to
swing on both sides, presenting little mark to
side shots, and as an additional precaution, sev-
eral reefs were taken in the largest of them.
Strong nettings were tied along the low bul-
warks, to prevent boarding, and others were
stretched overhead to catch falling blocks and
splinters from aloft. The guns were then loaded
and pointed, and a dozen heavy sweeps, or long
oars, were run out.
Aye, aye, they know their business, the ras-
cals!" said Ben grimly, as some of the crew
now busied themselves soaking all the sails
with a curiously contrived force-pump made of
leather.
They no wanchee fight," remarked Joe, who
had watched the preparations for battle; but


618


[JUNE,






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


if stranger junk strike first, then they fight
quick!"
The prisoners were tied to the mast, and
made to understand that any attempt to escape
would be punished by death. The crew then
lay down on the deck and awaited hostilities.
By this time the two boats were close together,
and a man on the stern of the strange junk began
to beat a gong, and set off firecrackers, and
throw out bits of burning paper which spluttered
and crackled in the water.
Those other fellows not proper pirates!" con-
temptuously exclaimed Proddy; "they coast-
traders. Pirates no beat gong so-fashion, and
no burn joss-paper for good luck."
Not pirates! replied Ben wrathfully; why,
it's my opinion there 's nothing but pirates in
all these waters. Even the most cowardly
fishing-junk turns thief as soon as it meets
another weaker than itself! Now look at those
hypocrites, burning joss-papers and beating
gongs,--praying to have the fight all their own
way! It may be better for us all if they do
thrash the others, but I can't help hoping they
will get well whipped for being so mean about
it! If I only-"; but here he was interrupted
by the report of a gun, and a shot came crash-
ing through the junk's side and knocked down
two of the crew.
"Well aimed, that! growled Ben with grim
satisfaction, "a yard more this way, though, and
some of us Christians would have been done
for! "
Another, and still another, shot came aboard,
cutting ropes and knocking splinters about; but
still there was no reply from their own vessel.
Frank and his friends began to be uneasy.
"What keeps them so quiet ?" asked Frank.
"We '11 be hit soon, if this keeps on! "
Dey is up to some mischief, sure," replied
Proddy. Dat coolie capting berry smart man,
Mas'r Aus'in. He know what he about! "
Sure enough, he did; as they all soon per-
ceived. The stranger, misled by the junk's
silence, supposed her not to be well armed, and
boldly approached her, with the crew massed
well forward, prepared to board. Then the
moment came for which the pirates had been
waiting. Their helm was thrown to port; the
head-sails came down by the run, the oarsmen


bent to their work, and the junk wheeled about
directly in front of her adversary, now but a
few score yards distant.
Without needing an order, the gunners sprang
from the deck, cast off the gun-covers, and sent
the charges of the six guns tearing through the
crowded ranks of the foe, completely clearing
of men their enemy's forward deck. The dis-
charge of the cannons was followed by a volley
from the small arms, and then began the throw-
ing of small, round objects the purpose of which
Frank did not understand.
"Phew! he suddenly cried. "What a hor-
rible smell! Ugh! I 'm almost suffocated!"
"You 'd be worse off, you'd choke to death,
if you were on the other craft! laughed Ben.
"These rascals are firing chemicals, and it's all
up with those fellows yonder. The fumes from
those chemicals are so suffocating that one can't
stay near 'em; and when they get to burning
they cannot be put out, even with water. See
there, sir, how they are jumping overboard."
When the smoke had cleared away, Frank
could see that the strange junk was in flames
and rapidly sinking. The bow was torn to pieces,
her sails were in tatters, while her suffocating
crew were being driven overboard by the deadly
fumes of the burning compound.
On board their own junk, the pirates were
quietly securing the guns and setting the boat
to rights without any apparent interest in the
burning wreck or her drowning crew.
As soon as everything was in order, the boat
was put on her course again and sailed away,
leaving her late assailants far astern, to save
themselves as best they might.
"That's as neat a bit of work as ever I saw!"
said Ben in a satisfied way. "Now just see
what those wicked chaps have come to by trying
to turn highway-robbers, instead of going about
their own business!"
"But why do they leave them, when they
might have put the fire out, saved the boat and
taken her cargo ? Do you suppose the strange
junk, if stronger, would have left us in the
same way ?" asked Frank, much puzzled.
No, sir, I hardly think that," said Ben.
"You see, those chaps were after plunder,
while our fellows wanted only to be left alone.
They 've got this big boat and cargo, all safe


619





[JUNE,


620


CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN ,SEAS.


and sure; and most likely they reasoned that
' a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.'
They 've hardly enough men to man two junks;
so they just put it out of the other rascals' power
to do us any further mischief, and left 'em."
But I noticed, Ben, that none of the other
crew asked for quarter," Frank said, not yet
satisfied. "They took everything so quietly,-
apparently as a matter of course."
Why, I believe, sir, those chaps are what you
call-let me see, what's the word? Fate-,
something."
Fatalists ? suggested Frank.
"That's it exactly, sir; and they believe
every one starts on his voyage of life with
sealed orders, as it were; so everything must
come about just as it is ordered beforehand.


CHAPTER V.
A HORNETS' NEST.

THE next morning's sun revealed a large,
densely-wooded island close aboard; and as
our friends arose from their hard beds on the
deck the crew were already busy in making
preparations to land.
The junk's bow pointed directly toward a
perpendicular cliff, upon the summit of which
stood a tall, solitary palm-tree. In this cliff,
when seen from a distance, there appeared to
be no opening; but when almost under its
overhanging crags a narrow deep cleft was
seen. This break extended entirely through
the cliff, revealing a deep, inner harbor com-
pletely land-locked. A fresh breeze carried


.. "-.. ^-: -.



'f _-4

-~ :** 5 -


,L;~~ ~bI 1j- -
-Ta


J.
$; ,i ,-;







TH --R TE AB N O .----- E.-_ J-- H FAT.


T HE PINAK!ES ABANDON THE DEFEATED JUNK TO HER FATE.


Those chaps reasoned that in spite of their fire-
crackers they had been caught in a trap; their
joss-papers and prayers were no good; their
josses had gone back on 'em for trying to rob,
and when luck goes against them, they often
give up just like that."


the junk swiftly through, and, firing a bow-gun,
the anchor was dropped and the sails run down
from aloft.
Scarcely had the echoes of the gun's report
died away, when dozens of boats put off from
the shore, where some wreaths of smoke were


V






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


wv, t .


THE PIRATE FLEET,
rising lazily above the tree-tops. Presently a
number of natives came crowding over the side,
and mingled with the crew. The new-comers
uttered shouts of joy and congratulation at the
safe arrival of the rich prize. Some went about
the deck, examining the guns and rigging, while
others dived down below to overhaul the cargo.
Then another fleet of small boats ran along-
side, and a motley crowd of men, women and
children was added to the first; and before long
all were engaged in removing the contents of
the hold.
Not the slightest notice was taken of the
captives until all the cargo was removed. Then
they were ordered into a canoe and swiftly
paddled landward. As the canoe neared the
beach, the mouth of a large river opened out,
and behind the projecting point there appeared
a large settlement of cane-thatched houses, all
neatly fenced in and evidently kept in good
order. Little gardens surrounded each house,
while a cluster of much larger buildings near
the center was inclosed in an open park. Off
from the landing, in mid-stream, lay a number of
large rakish-looking junks and proas, all heavily
armed. One of these vessels gave evidence of
a recent fight; for about her were clusters of
busy men, plugging up shot-holes in her sides
and repairing her splintered masts.


ks .- o ... _"-' ~" -' "_ .-

A' _J -'r ,-- 4 , ,z' --

oat
iI

-r"-~~







AND SETTLEMENT.

"Well, this beats all! said Ben, as they
landed; it 's a regular hornets' nest of pirates.
Why, these thieves must be making a regular
business of robbery Ben's further remarks
were cut short by a rap from one of the guards.
A short walk brought the prisoners to a long,
low building, and being conducted inside and
securely fastened, they were left there together.
The shouts and cries heard from without testi-
fied to the delight of the settlement over the
new capture, and our friends hoped for better
treatment in consequence of the general rejoic-
ing. At nightfall their guards returned and,
bidding the prisoners follow, led them after a
short walk, to the center of the village. Here,
entering a large building, they were ushered,
bound together, into a fine hall, heavily draped
with hangings of rich stuffs, and decorated with
swords, shields, and various suits of Eastern
armor. At the further end, on a slightly raised
platform, was seated a personage who, from the
respect shown him by all who stood about, could
be none other than the pirate chief of this pirate
colony.
For several moments there was complete
silence; and Frank had an excellent oppor-
tunity to study the man who now held the cap-
tives' fate in his hands. Frank expected to see
a warrior, of commanding presence, brilliant






[JUNE,


CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


dress, and certainly of ferocious aspect; but to
his surprise, he saw that this person was of small
stature, with delicate hands, and a beardless,
amiable face; in short, one who might be taken
for a mild-tempered, and even an effeminate
youth. And although the guards and officers
about him were richly and elaborately appar-
eled, their chieftain's dress was simple in the
extreme.
After quietly regarding our friends for a few
moments, he spoke in an undertone to one of
his officers who was standing in shadow. The
official stepped forward to reply. Frank started;
for there before him stood a Chinese mer-
chant" who had engaged passage in Frank's
vessel on its last trip !
"Aye, that's the rascal! whispered Ben, who
had recognized the man at the same moment.
The chief now turned to Frank and said,
My lieutenant tells me, sir, that you were the
captain of the junk he has just sent in; and that
instead of throwing you overboard as is cus-
tomary with useless prisoners, he prevailed on
his men to spare your life in the hope of secur-
ing a ransom from your friends in Hong Kong.
I wish to know what we may expect for your
release, or whether he has saved your life for
nothing."
Frank could not help a slight shudder, as he
heard his death spoken of in this business-like,
matter-of-fact way, but promptly answered the
chief:
I cannot tell how much they will pay for us,
sir, but-"
"Us? Whom do you mean by 'us'?"
asked the chief, abruptly interrupting the young
captain.
My men, here," answered Frank, motioning
toward Ben, Joe, and Proddy.
Why, those sailors are fit only for slaves! "
exclaimed the chief, coolly. Here, take these
fellows away !"
At his command the three other captives were
at once removed by the guard, and Frank was
left alone before the pirate.
Now, sir, go on," said the young pirate," and
be quick. How much can you promise for your
release ? "
"You are welcome," replied Frank, boldly,
"to all I have to my credit at the Victoria


Bank; but I cannot promise more from the
company. They may pay something for the
release of the men, and unless they are included,
I decline to name any sum for my own freedom.
They are brave men. They have stood by me
at the risk of their lives, and fought for me, and
I shall not desert them."
Humph ejaculated the chief, as he eyed
Frank sternly. "I lost some of my best hands
through you and your crew, and now your men
shall pay me back with their labor. As for you,
I will give you till to-morrow to decide whether
you will write to your friends for ransom, or re-
main here with your men, to work as a slave."
I shall have no other answer to give re-
plied Frank firmly.
"Remove him! ordered the chief, and the
face hitherto so mild now showed all the signs
of a hasty and ungovernable temper. The
young captain noted the cruel lines about the
tightly compressed lips of the pirate, and under-
stood the savage nature of the man into whose
power he had fallen. Then, with gloomy fore-
bodings, he returned to his prison.
About midnight, Ben, Joe, and Proddy stag-
gered in and threw themselves on the floor,
utterly exhausted from several hours of heavy
toil under the blows of their cruel task-masters.
"It's a pretty bad business, Mr. Frank,"
said Ben slowly, after a long silence. Why,
they worked us like dogs-and Joe heard 'em
say that if we did n't fetch a good price, we
were to be sent inland, to work on the rice-
plantations. If that's so, we will stand no
chance whatever, for the climate inland is sure
death to foreigners "
I hardly think the chief is so merciless as
that," replied Frank, with a show of cheerful-
ness. No doubt he is a pirate and thief, but
he does not seem to be a man who would be
guilty of wanton cruelty."
"Well, then you are deceived by his looks,"
said Ben; for, judging from what Joe heard
of him, he 's the most cold-hearted, blood-
thirsty wretch in the Eastern seas. And, in
spite of his gentle manners, there 's not a
man under his command would any more dare
disobey his orders than dare play with the
lightning! Why, they said one of his lieu-
tenants ran away with a captured junk, last


622






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


year, intending to start in the business for him-
self; and this quiet chap followed him all the way
to the Malacca Straits, ran him aboard right
under the guns of a Portuguese fort, and sunk the
lieutenant's junk with one broadside At another
time they say that he landed on one of the lit-
tle Sumatra Islands and destroyed an entire
fishing-village, just because it had failed in its
yearly tribute of dried fish,-although he knew
it was only because they had had a bad season!
Aye, he 's a pleasant-looking rascal, with that
quiet smile of his; but I suppose he has to be
cruel, or he could n't manage the set of cut-


piracy-trade out of pure perverseness. He car-
ries on a regular business, I've heard, with certain
ports on the mainland, and sails his stolen goods
into port twice a year, just as if he were an
honest trader. He 's making a great fortune
by it. Oh! piracy is considered a genteel way
of making a living, hereabouts! concluded
Ben dryly.
But why don't they break up the traffic ? "
asked Frank indignantly.
Well," said the old man, foreign powers
try to; but these chaps have their paid spies
and agents in every port. The officials, also,


THE CHIEF OF THE PIRATES QUESTIONS THE PRISONERS.


throats about him. It is said he's the son of a
rich merchant in the Malay country. His father
sent him to India to be educated like a Euro-
pean, but he was so spoilt by indulgence that
nothing but having his own way in everything
would do. As honest people would not stand
his nonsense, he ran away and took to the


are accused of secretly favoring them. At all
events, if any expedition goes after them, the
pirates seem to learn all about it, either through
their spies or the officials themselves, in plenty
of time to sail away to other ports."
After a few more words the tired prisoners fell
asleep on their mats.


(To be continued.)


623





























's.. AID Bouncing Bet to
"OhBlack-eyed Sue:
S a-yuOh, leave your stupid
meadow, do,
And just for once try
my way:
Pull up your roots, dear, every one,
And plant yourself as I have done,
Along the busy highway.


"You see life here And more than that,
You 're seen, yourself. It must be flat,
Beyond all computation,
To grow unnoticed hour by hour -
One might as well not be a flower
As win no admiration!"


But Black-eyed Susan answered back
That as she 'd never felt the lack,


And all her tastes were suited
With birds and butterflies and bees,
And other such simplicities,
She 'd stay where she was rooted.


Now listen, children, while I tell
The fate that Bouncing Bet befell,
By highways dry and dusty;
While meadow-blossoms still were
bright,
Her pinky bloom had faded white,
Her leaves were brown and rusty.


And people passed her where she grew
And went to look for Black-eyed Sue,
As might have been expected:
Her yellow blossoms in a vase
Won everybody's smiling praise-
And poor Bet drooped neglected!













,,^,^ ,"', i T ,V


By ALICE WELLINGTON ROLLINS.


IT is really a lovely garden. Never were
there whiter lilies, nor bluer violets, nor more
interesting pansies.
But it needs something. I think it is bees.
For bees are so picturesque! And then the
hives !-the hives are as picturesque as the bees
themselves. Apple-trees without beehives under
them are as forlorn as lilies without bees over
them.
So we bought some beautiful hives, and placed
them in the orchard, just on the edge of the gar-
den. Soon they began to be filled with delicious
honey in dear little white cells; but the bees
were nowhere to be seen. Every morning they
disappeared, flying far out of sight, and the lilies
and roses were as forlorn as ever. We had the
credit of having bees, for every one could see
the hives and taste the honey; but we did not
have the bees.
So one morning I went out and talked to
them about it.
"Dear bees," I said, what is it that you
miss in the garden ? Every morning you fly
away; but where can you find whiter lilies, or
bluer violets, or more interesting pansies ?"
"We are not looking for whiteness, or blue-
ness, or interestingness," the bees explained.
" We are looking for honey; and the honey is
better in the clover-field that is only a mile
away."
"Oh! if that is all," I exclaimed gladly,
"Pray don't have the honey on your minds-"


"We don't," they said. "We carry it in
little bags."
I mean, don't mind about the honey-"
"Certainly not; how could we, when we
have n't any minds? "
But please don't feel obliged to hunt for
honey. I don't care at all for honey; that is,"
I added hastily, as a slight buzzing made me
fear that perhaps I had hurt their feelings, I
like you, you know, for yourselves alone, not
for what you can give me. The honey is de-
licious, but we can buy it very nice at the gro-
cer's. If you like honey for yourselves, I will
buy some, and fill the hives for you, so that
you need n't work at all, if you will only stay
in the garden, and hover over the lilies, and-
and -be picturesque."
They promised to try. And they did try.
Whenever I looked from my library windows, I
could see them practising their hovering, and
they really hovered extremely well. Satisfied
that my garden was at last complete, I gave up
watching it, and devoted myself to literary work.
Every morning I seated myself at the desk and
wrote rapidly till noon. But one day I was
interrupted by a bee.
He had flown in at the window. Perching
himself on the lid of the inkstand, he waited
awhile; then at last asked quietly:
Why are you not out of doors this beautiful
morning? The garden is lovely; I cannot
see-" and he glanced critically at the vases






[JUNE,


WHY BEES MAKE HONEY.


about the room-" I cannot see that these lilies
here are any whiter, or the violets any bluer, or
the pansies any more interesting than those out
there. And we miss you. A garden really
ought to have people walking about in it. That
is what gardens are for. I don't see why we
must be out there to be seen, when there is
nobody to see us."
: But, dear bee, I am not looking for flowers
this morning; I am writing."
"And what are you writing ?"
A sonnet."
"Are there no sonnets to be had at the
stores ? "
Oh, yes! Shakspere's, and Milton's, and
Wordsworth's, of course."
And are your sonnets better than Shaks-
pere's ? "
"Why, of course not."
Then let your sonnet go. Come out in the
garden with us, and on the way home I '11 buy
you a sonnet at the store; a Shakspere son-
net,- the very best in the market."
But, you see, I want to try making a sonnet
of my own."
Very well; let me see you try."
I took up the pen again, and was soon ab-
sorbed in my rhymes and rhythm. Indeed,
I had quite forgotten that the bee was there,
till he stirred uneasily and finally sighed.
"Are you not happy in the garden ? I asked.
Not very."
"But why not ? Have n't you all the liberty
you want ?"
No; we have every liberty except the liberty
we want."
"And that is-"
"The liberty to work. We find that it is n't
lilies; it is n't clover; it is n't honey; it's making
the honey that we like. It is n't even making
the honey for you, that we care so much about;
because, you see, you don't like honey; it's
just making it."
I don't understand. I can't see how any-
body can really like to work."
"But we do. Suppose you finish your son-
net, while I try to think over a few arguments
to present to you later."
So again I took up the pen, and again I
was soon happily absorbed, and had entirely


forgotten the poor bee, till I heard him say
wearily:
It does n't seem to be very easy to write
a sonnet."
No," I exclaimed enthusiastically, "it is n't
at all easy. That is the charm of it. Anybody
can write some kind of verse, but very few peo-
ple can write sonnets. There are a great many
rules for making a sonnet; you can only have
just so many lines, and just so few rhymes, and
the sentiment must change in just such a place,
and very few people have the patience for it.
Even Shakspere did not keep to the severest
style of sonnet."
"And are you trying to obey all the rules ?"
Yes."
"Why?"
"Why, for the fun of it. It is so interesting
to see whether one can do it."
"But it must be awfully tedious; and from
your own account, you are really working harder
over it than you need to."
"Only because it is a great deal more inter-
esting to do a thing well than just to do it. Let
me read you something from Wordsworth's
sonnet about the sonnet. He says:

In truth the prison unto which we doom
Ourselves no prison is;

meaning that, if we are willing to take pains,
there is a great deal of enjoyment in working
hard over a thing, even if it is a very small thing.
He gives a great many comparisons, about nuns
being contented with their narrow convents, and
hermits in their cells, and students in their libra-
ries, and weavers at the loom; and here, oh, here,
is an allusion to you, dear bee; he tells how-

Bees that soar for bloom,
High as the highest peak of Furness-fells,
Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells.

That is just what you meant, is n't it ? that
you are one of those he speaks of who 'have felt
the weight of too much liberty' ? "
"Yes, that is what I meant; but I think I
said it better than he says it. If it is a fine
thing to say what you mean in just fourteen
lines, why is n't it a finer thing to say what you
mean in fourteen words ? And really it seems
to me that I put the whole of his sonnet into


626






WHY BEES MAKE HONEY.


saying that it is not for the honey that I care,
nor for the sonnet that you care; but the fun of
the work."
The fun of the work! That is a new idea,-
but I believe you are right."
Of course I am right. Sweetness is all very
well, but I should think it would be very tire-
some just to be sweet, like a flower; I 'd rather
be a bee, and have to hunt for the sweetness."
And I 'd rather be a human being and have
to make things sweet. For, after all, if a bee
does n't find any sweetness, he can't have any,


while people can make it for themselves. Do
you know, by the way, that you have given me
a splendid subject for a poem ? "
Perhaps I have. But if you will excuse me,
I will be off to the clover-field; and my advice
to you is, if you must write a poem, try to put
it in four lines, instead of fourteen."
So I tried, and this is the poem:

Sweetness in being sweet, that 's for the flowers;
Sweetness in finding sweets, that's for the bee;
Sweetness in making sweet sorrowful hours,
That is the sweetness for you and for me.


GRANDPA'S SWEETHEART.

By HANNAH CODDTNGTON.


DAISY, Daisy Dimpledew!
May I take a walk with you?
Fields are dotted o'er with flowers,
Days are full of sunny hours,
What then could we better do ?-
Boy of eighty, girl of two.

Daisy, Daisy Dimpledew!
I am now a child like you.
You are tiny, I am large,
Fairy pinnace, heavy barge -
You shall map the course," I '11 go
Quite content to be "in tow."


Daisy, Daisy Dimpledew!
You would wander all day through;
I must port my helm," and "tack,"
Or the woods you will ransack.
Hearts grow young, but limbs grow old,
Little captain, pilot bold!

Daisy, Daisy Dimpledew!
You are brave enough for two -
On the ocean of the world,
Rides your bark with sails unfurled,
While I creep along the shore,
With my ventures almost o'er.

Daisy, Daisy Dimpledew!
You 're a comrade loyal, true;
Sweetest sinner, naughty saint,
Heavenly thinking, speeches quaint!
Grandpa's sweetheart! this you are,
Though you 've lovers near and far.



















*~~. -_;- c----= -----~~;


BY WALTER STORRS BIGELOW.


I. "KA-SOUZE! KA-SOUZE!"

ON summer vacation afternoons, we used to
meet in my uncle's side yard; and the low front
fence, made of short posts connected by smooth,
white beams six inches square, sagged beneath
a row of boys enjoying the shade of full-leaved
maple-trees that lined the street. Those fence-
beams were not set in corner-ways, presenting
a sharp edge to sit on, but were thoughtfully
placed sidewise, and thus made a most inviting
seat.
After two hours of standing and sitting and
lying around, such as only boys are capable of,
while waiting till the July sun had slid well down
the west, we adjourned with one accord, yet at
no perceptible signal, like a flock of birds rising


out of the grass together, to the "swimming-
hole." In groups of three and four, a dozen
or more of us, we loitered down the shady side-
walk to a certain gate. This gate we vaulted
(by preference, for it opened easily), and strolled
along a green lane to its end. There, before
climbing the rail fence at this point, we often
paused a moment, like the young epicures we
were, to look at a tree of little red apples from
which we would help ourselves on our return,
hungry from the bath.
One wide meadow lay between the fence and
the swimming-hole, which was a place in the
stream worn deep at one side by the current,
though it was shallow at the other side. At this
spot a great tree grew out over the water. The
older boys would dive in above this tree, and,
528


"
"7 ._-. .. ,






THE SWIMMING-HOLE STORIES.


as they came up, seize its lower boughs, climb
like young monkeys to the trunk, and walk down
it to the ground.
Through the meadow, half-way between the
rail fence I spoke of and the swimming-hole,
ran a little brook. The direct way over this
brook was at a point where it was about three
feet deep. Here a young tree, perhaps eight
inches in diameter, torn up by some high wind,
had been laid across with its branching roots on
the side toward the swimming-hole. Not far
down, the brook became suddenly shallow and
was forded on stepping-stones.
At this place the line was sharply drawn be-
tween the little boys and the big boys. The
big boys walked the tree-bridge, but the little
boys hopped across on the stepping-stones.
Since to be considered a little boy was a dis-
grace, fear alone prevented those who did not
walk the tree. One fatal day I determined to
bear the stigma, "little boy," no longer. I
spoke to no one of my resolution, but when we
reached the brook that afternoon, I waited until
several of the larger boys had crossed, and then
started boldly over on the tree.
Distracting yells and cries of, "You're in;
you 're in!" arose from both banks, but I kept
discreetly silent, and stepped bravely on. As I
neared the other side I firmly grasped one of
the projecting roots of the tree on which I stood,
and now, thinking myself safe, as I heard once
more the cry, You 're in; you 're in!" exult-
ingly replied, "Am I ?" But just then the root
acted like a lever in my hand, and turned the
trunk beneath my feet. In falling, I whirled
completely round, facing the way I had come.
When my feet touched bottom, I was off my
balance in water breast-high. I stretched out
both arms, and in a wild attempt to regain an
equilibrium, plunged desperately through the
water until I reached the shore whence I had so
valiantly set forth, and drew myself out, soaked
and heavy, on the bank, looking like a drowned
kitten.
I got no nearer the swimming-hole that day.
And on many a day after I was treated to a
clever mimicry of my performance, and heard
from the lips of relentless boys:
"' You 're in; you 're in!' 'Am I ?' Ka-souze !
Ka-souze!"


II. AN UNREWARDED RESCUE.

"JUMP in, Frank; you'll never learn till you
try."
Frank was tall for his age, which was about
my own. He was awkward and heavy, and de-
clared he never could learn to swim. I was a
pretty good swimmer for a small boy, taking
naturally to the water-though not often against
my will, as on the day I first tried to cross the
brook by means of the tree bridge. Frank was
a careless, good-humored boy, not very deep,
which perhaps accounted for his preference for
shallow water. He looked so ridiculous wading
and paddling around with urchins half his size
in the riffles above the hole," that it was no
wonder that we laughed at the sight, and
finally egged him on to make an attempt to
swim.
From the day he first tried it he never waded
with the little boys again. But his struggles in
deep water were funnier than his paddling in the
riffles. He would walk back some distance from
the bank, turn and run to the water's edge, leap
wildly into the air, and descend feet first, out of
sight with a great splash. In a moment up he
would come to the surface spluttering and gasp-
ing, and beating the water into foam about him
with arms and legs, like the paddles of a patent
churn. The current would carry him swiftly
under the tree that projected over the stream,
and he would clutch the low-hanging boughs
like a drowning man, drag himself out upon the
trunk, and thence get ashore. He was at no
time in danger, for the stream was shallow just
below, and had he missed his hold on the tree
he would have been stranded in a moment where
the water was not a foot deep. Day after day
we boys stood on the bank and waited for the
" circus to begin when Frank was ready for his
" swim." He came past us on a double-quick,
elbows down, features set and eyes starting
with determination, and then we witnessed,
with shrieks of laughter, that ungainly, sprawl-
ing leap. For an instant he hung as if sus-
pended, turned half over, and then came down
like a lead image.
Early one morning Frank, Ed Bristol, and I
started out on a fishing-excursion down the
creek. We were all appropriately dressed in the


629






THE SWIMMING-HOLE STORIES.


oldest clothes that we could still get into; though
Frank, having "sprouted" fast, looked more than
the rest like a scarecrow, for his gaunt wrist-
bones showed below his sleeves, and there was
a wide gap between the tops of his shoes and
the legs of his trousers. But he was the proud
wearer of a new twenty-five-cent straw hat, With
very wide brim, which made up for shortcomings
elsewhere. We fished till noon along the bank,
without much success, I must admit. Then we
sat down and transferred to our empty stomachs
the lunch we had carried thus far in a basket,
and after a little rest kept on down stream.
About the middle of the afternoon we reached
a spot unfamiliar to us all. The creek here wi-
dened and deepened, and was overhung with wil-
low-trees that cast a delicious shade upon the
water. Let 's go in swimming," suggested
Frank. But, in my opinion, Frank's swimming
was not so well suited to this place as to one
where he would be less dependent on his own
skill, and I tried to dissuade him, but in vain.
He was determined, and commenced to unlace
his shoes at once; so I, who was ready enough
for my own part, followed his example. Ed's
mother had said he must not go in that day,
and like a good boy he stayed on land. This
I soon had reason to regret, for he was nearly
Frank's size, and I was less than two-thirds as
big.
Frank's swimming powers seemed to have
increased for the occasion. His plunges were
less frantic than before, and when he came up
he struck out boldly, and scrambled on the bank
with little trouble. To vary the programme, I
put on Frank's new broad-brimmed hat, and
dived with it. Of course, when I rose it was
drawn by the water well down around my head
and shoulders, but I swam with one hand and
pulled it off with the other. Frank, elated by
his own prowess, announced that he would per-
form the same feat. We both tried to prevent
this, and warned him of the danger, but he
laughed and said he knew his own business,
crowded the hat on tight, and jumped in. I
stood on the bank with Ed, and watched anx-
iously for his reappearance. Soon up he came,


impeded as I had been, by the broad brim of
his hat. This confused him, as I had feared,
and threw him into a panic, for he could neither
see nor breathe. His arms struck out aimlessly,
and smothered cries of "Help! help!" came
from under that miserable hat.
I felt like a harbor-tug called on to save a
sinking ocean steamer. All I had ever heard
about the death-grip of a drowning man came
into mind; but I jumped in, swam warily
around, back of the helpless boy, and seized him
under the arms. Kicking out rapidly with all
the strength in my short legs, I succeeded in
propelling him within reach of Ed, who pulled
him out. When I had followed, I chanced to
see that hat some distance down the stream, and
watched it float slowly out of sight around a
bend.
Frank soon recovered, and dressed himself
with our assistance. Thus far he had said no
word of thanks to me. I had read of youths
saving the lives of strange young ladies, who
afterward gave their hands, and incidentally
their fortunes, to their brave preservers. But
this was not a parallel case, and words were all
I expected in payment, when Frank's senses
cleared. Just as we were about to start for
home, Frank put his hand to his head, full re-
collection seemed to dawn on him all at once,
and he turned to me. I was ready to stem the
tide of his thanks by protesting that I had done
no more than my duty; but he only exclaimed,
" Where 's my hat? I told him where I last
had seen it, and he cried: Why did you let it
go ? You might have saved it! "
All the way home he grumbled from under the
handkerchief tied on his head in place of that
lost straw hat.
At last I could stand it no longer, and up-
braided him for his ingratitude.
This brought him to his senses, and he said,
sheepishly enough, that of course he was much
obliged, but he wished I had thought to save
the hat, as I might easily have done. How-
ever, he said, it was no matter; but he was
sorry, as it was such a nice hat, and he got it
only yesterday.


(To be continued.)


630














C

*L .
, ," "


\


Y ". -












I SPIED her in my garden.
,'


















've come to pay a visit,"
... -'I







































SPe he i e pretty dear! -
For thirty long, long days, sir.










And are n't you glad I 'm here."
.---- .--















ow wht my be yor me plese






















I gently did demand;
"And whose are all these flowers ?
She said, W they are



















I 'm June last night I came, please,
A LITTLE VISITOR.

BY ELIZABETH L. GOULD.


I SPIED her in my garden.
Clasped tightly in each hand
She held a monstrous posy,
Her dimpled cheeks were rosy;
She smiled and begged my pardon,
When near her I did stand.

I 've come to pay a visit,"
She said,- the pretty dear! -
For thirty long, long days, sir.
And are n't you glad I 'm here."

" Now what may be your name, please ? "
I gently did demand;
And whose are all these flowers ? "
She said, Why, they are ours".
I 'm June; last night I came, please,
Straight from the Summer Land."











A FREE CIRCUS.

By JOSEPHINE POLLARD.


MRS. MARVIN lived in East Fifty-seventh
street, New York, a rather quiet part of the city,
and one not accustomed to getting itself into the
papers. Opposite her house was a queer-look-
ing building which was the cause of consider-
able comment in the neighborhood. Down-
stairs appeared to be a stable with wide doors
that were seldom if ever opened, and it was a
matter of curiosity as to what use could be made
of it. Outside was a brick wall, and beyond
this a grass-plot, the whole being fenced in
with the customary iron railing. Above
the hall door was a small room, used
as a kitchen, and over the stable Z
a larger room in which lived
Mr. and Mrs. Brown and
their six children. This
large room was parlor,
sitting-room, bedroom,
nursery, dining-room,
and everything else,
and I don'tknowwhere
you would have found
a happier home circle
than the members of
that particular colored
family.
They knew the secret
of that stable, and were
paid for not letting the
cat out of the bag, and
very proud they were at
knowing so much more
than their neighbors.
But there are sayings
that Murder will out,"
and "There is nothing
hid that shall not be
known," and little did ,
the Browns surmise
what a trick Fanchon I
was to play on them. FANCHON GOING UPSTAIRS.


Fanchon? Yes, the baby elephant which was
owned by Mr. Reiche, the importer of foreign
birds and animals, and was taken care of by
Mr. Brown, and kept in safety and seclusion un-
til the time arrived for her to appear in public.
But Fanchon grew impatient; she wished to
see a little more of the strange new world into
which she had been brought. So one day when
her keeper was absent she took it into her head
to go on an exploring expedition.


She
marched
quietly out
into the hall,
and climbing up
a narrow stairway
\ --how she didit no one
knows found herself on
an upper landing whence she
easily made her way into the kitchen
where Mrs. Brown was preparing dinner. This







A FREE CIRCUS.


good woman, hearing a step behind her, turned
and saw a sight that almost froze the blood in
her veins. For a moment she stood as one par-
alyzed; then, recovering herself, threw open the
window and screamed for dear life.
It was a February afternoon, and Mrs. Mar-
vin sat busily sewing, when she heard a most
unearthly shriek that made her spring to the



I
II






I













?-.
//-

FANCHON CALLS ON
window in great haste; and all her neighbors
did likewise. There stood Mrs. Brown at her
own window, screaming and wringing her hands
in an agony of despair, while over her head was
stretched out what ? Could it be possible ?
Was it really the trunk of an elephant ? Yes,
unmistakably so, and Fanchon appeared to en-
joy the situation, and to take great delight in
breathing the fresh outdoor air.
The newspapers and the small boy kept alive
the excitement in the street, but that was nothing
to the excitement in Mrs. Brown's rooms where
an elephant had taken up its quarters and was
making itself decidedly at home.
Fanchon was as contented as she could be,
and seemed bent on having a good time; but
VOL. XVIII.-46.


she was an elephant and her pranks were natu-
rally on a large scale. Now and then she would
go to the kitchen sink and help herself to a drink
in the cleverest and neatest way. Occasion-
ally she would come to the window with the
youngest pickaninny in her trunk, and poor
Mrs. Brown could be seen following, and
wringing her hands in an agony of fear. She


I'i,
'I,
I -


\ --


THE PICKANINNY.


would have turned white, had that been possi-
ble; but every one knew the fright she was in,
and every mother pitied her, and, oh, how
thankful they were not to be in her place!
Crowds of people gathered about the building,
and stood staring at it for hours at a time, hop-
ing to catch a glimpse of the new member of
Mrs. Brown's family.
"Luk at her now!" cried Teddy McGuire
from the top of a convenient lamp-post. "She 's
a tossin' the kid up in the air just like its own
father! Wud ye moind the like o' that !"
"An sure she 's brought her trunk with her
and means to stay!" cried Mikey Regan; and
shrieks and shouts made the street like a babel
from morning till night.


N






A. FREE CIRCUS.


Meanwhile, Mr. Brown and Mr. Reiche were
considering how they should get Fanchon down-
stairs again, for it was certain she could not re-
main where she was, and great care must be
taken to prevent her being injured in any way.
A prominent Safe Company offered to bring her
down safe-ly for fifty dollars, but their offer was
declined.
Presently, carpenters with lumber made their
appearance, and 'five men worked like beavers
to make a toboggan-slide for Mistress Fanchon.
It was finished at the end of three days. It
went from the upper window to the top of the
stone wall not a very steep slope then took
a turn and a gradual descent into the open space
below, leading directly into the stable.
All the boys in the neighborhood were in
hope that the show would take place at noon,
to give them a chance to see the fun, but they


woman was to get rid of her unwelcome and
unwieldy guest; and so the baby elephant might
make considerable resistance.
Well, the day came when everything was in
readiness for Fanchon's removal, and long be-
fore noon the street was packed with people
gathered there to see the circus. There were at
least three thousand spectators, not counting
those at the windows or on the roofs of the
houses, and shouts and cries, jokes, and the
songs of the day made things lively for those
who watched and waited for the grand exit.
The crowd were prepared to give Fanchon a
tremendous cheering, but after they had been
requested to be as silent as possible you could
have heard a pin drop. It was a most remark-
able situation.
Out of the window stepped Fanchon, pre-
ceded by young Mr. Reiche, who patted her on


S






N-? Atj t 1 -e~
A k"
_z ~



~""(r4' s 4.).


FANCHON MAKES HERSELF AT HOME.


were doomed to disappointment. It is an old
adage that Great bodies move slowly," and
Fanchon could not be hurried. Besides, she
was well satisfied with her quarters and not half
so anxious to leave Mrs. Brown as the poor


the trunk and quietly urged her along, and all
went well until they came to the end of the
platform resting on top of the stone wall. Here
Fanchon was at a loss to know what she was to
do. What was expected of her ? She stretched


634






1891.] A FREE CIRCUS. 635

out her hind leg in search of some support, so that she would fall no further. Then they
and, finding none, swayed her body against Mr. rolled out five bales of hay, and on these
Reiche and threw him violently down upon the Fanchon got a foothold and was easily led
grass-plot, a distance of at least twelve feet A down into the stable.
thrill of horror went through the crowd! It When Fanchon disappeared from view, and


,
.t -- .

--Is -- ^-- t' 'r ^ ?-
-- .-- 7- -:- -g J '.-. -

-. .- ___- ..r. t i%_-----






-~G-




-TH. ST.R .



THE STREET WAS PACKED WITH PEOPLE GATHERED THERE TO SER THE CIRCUS."


seemed to Mrs. Marvin that the poor young
man stood on his head with his feet in the air
for fully five minutes It was a wonder his
neck was not broken.
Added to this was the threatening danger
that Fanchon, having lost her foothold, would
fall on the young man and crush him to death.
She swayed in that direction The lookers-on
were breathless; powerless to help, and scarcely
daring to move! At this fearful moment, Mr.
Brown, at the risk of his own life threw himself
violently against the elephant and prevented the
catastrophe.
Fanchon turned, .made a misstep and fell,
partly on the wall, and partly on the lower plat-
form. Up to this time she had behaved exceed-
ingly well and was as gentle as a kitten, but
scared at the accident she trumpeted forth a
blast that must have been heard several blocks
away. The carpenters came at once to her
rescue, placing timbers and boards under her,


it was known that she was safe and all right,
the crowd gave a sigh of relief and melted away
like dew before the morning sun. But no one
breathed more freely than Mrs. Brown, who de-
clared that she'd rather have a dozen pickanin-
nies to look after than one elephant -even a
small one like that.
But the most disappointed boy was Clarence
Marvin, who was more than vexed that the show
did not take place at twelve o'clock instead of
two. His mother gave him all the particulars,
and even acted out the way in which Fanchon
stepped off and looked around, and described
everything most minutely. She said it was
comical to see the horses help themselves to the
vegetables in the wagons ahead of them, as if
there was a free lunch set out for their benefit,
while the drivers paid no heed whatever to profit
or loss.
All business in that quarter of the city was at
a standstill for the time being, and, indeed, I put


i'i'
::
,,j



II a





636


A FREE CIRCUS.


[JUNE,


it to you if it was n't enough to make a small the more heartily did he grieve that he was n't
boy weep to have to be told about a circus which on hand to take it in," as he said, and the only
took place in front of his own door and was thing that pacified him was the promise of a
free to all. season ticket to the circus, which was soon to make
And the more Clarence laughed at the story its appearance at the Madison Square Garden.





,r r
,~- -'














A SHADOW-LESSON.

BY HARLAN H. BALLARD.


BEING delayed for fifteen minutes at Lenox
Station, waiting for a train, I occupied the time
and entertained myself by kneeling on a lit-
tle rustic bridge, and watching the water as it
ran below. The rivulet deepened to a small
pool just under the bridge, and on the smoothly
flowing surface a number of water-bugs were
disporting themselves. I observed that except
when disturbed, as by the approach of some-
thing good to eat, an aggressive enemy, or a
thundering train, they rested on the water with
their heads up-stream, and floated quietly down
for perhaps a foot, when, by a sudden, jerky
motion, too quick for the eye to follow, they
regained their former positions, and then floated
down again as before. I presume they are still
there, and still busy, first floating down-stream,
and then snapping themselves back again, and
I have no doubt they enjoy life. Theirs is a
species of liquid coasting that commends itself
to one's approval.
But I was at'once interested to discover by


what means these little creatures were able to
skip thus contentedly upon the surface of the
water, and to learn how they propelled them-
selves so swiftly against the flowing current.
Their brown, diamond-shaped bodies were so
far below my eyes, and withal so slender, and
so nearly the color of the sand below them,
and their motions were so quick, that at first
I could not determine whether they moved by
a rowing of their legs, or whether they ejected
streams of water from the back of their living
craft, as many aquatic insects do. I could
not class them with certainty either as side-
wheelers or propellers. But presently my at-
tention was diverted from the bugs themselves
to their shadows upon the bed of the brook a
foot or two below. By studying these, I found
the solution of both the problems that had
puzzled me.
Fig. i represents one of these curious shadows;
only it is n't half so interesting as the real one,
for this is only a dead shadow, and cannot float,






A SHADOW-LESSON.


and swim, and eat, as the live shadows seem
to do. You will notice that in front of the head,
which is the handle end of the trowel-shaped
body-shadow (a), there are two overlapping cir-
cles, (d) connected to the body by slender lines.
At each side of these are much smaller shadows
(c), elliptical in form, and also connected to the
body by long, slender lines. Behind the body
are two spoon-shaped shadows, connected to it
by short black lines. Remembering that insects
are six-legged creatures, I had no difficulty in
recognizing these portions of the shadow as
caused by the water-bug's legs or feet, and my
first thought was that it must have paddle-
shaped feet, round in front and oval behind, by
means of whose expanded disks it was enabled
to walk the water like a thing of life." But


upper surface of the water beneath its legs, I saw
that the feet were not essentially unlike those of
other insects. They are, in fact, quite slender,

--- ...------ d


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








C --


FIG. 2. THE WATER-BUG.


FIG. I. THE WATER-BUG'S SHADOW.


then I noticed around each foot-shadow, but
not around the body-shadow, a circle or border
of brilliant light.
Here was the key to one riddle: Under each
foot the water was pressed down into a little
concavity or pit. This depression acted as a
concave lens, refracting the light around its
edges in a bright ring; and the large shadows
were shadows not of the feet, but of the curving
water-hollows. The feet were not, then, nec-
essarily of the same shape as the shadows.
Leaving the shadows for the moment, I now
examined more attentively the insect itself; and
having caught a reflection of light from the


as may be seen in Fig. 2, which was drawn
from a similar bug, although I was not able to
catch one of the identical bugs I am describing.
This is certainly a picture of a very near rela-
tive, however, if not of a brother, and serves our
purpose sufficiently well.
The insect rests upon the water not merely



















FIG. 3. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)

its feet, but a considerable portion of its legs.
The hind legs were in contact all the way from
the joint c, the fore legs for the shorter distance


637






A SHADOW-LESSON.


from d to b, Fig. 2. This explains the differing
shapes of the forward and rear shadows. If
you will experiment with some little straws of
different lengths, laid upon still water in full
sunlight, at about one o'clock, you will see ex-
actly how it is -the circle, the oval, and the
surrounding ring of light.
It remained to determine the manner of
locomotion. What I could not see by watch-
ing the insect, the shadow revealed at once.
With every jerk of the bug when it started
to row up-stream, the shadows cc flashed back
(if shadows can do that), until they were on
a line with the broad, oval shadows behind,
and instantly returned to their normal position.
The insect rows itself by means of the middle
pair of legs. That word remigis in the name
of this insect precisely indicates the motion of
these tiny oars, and the "recover" which is
effected by them would make a college oars-
man green with envy. That other name, Hygro-
trechus, water-runner, is n't so bad, either.
Well, I supposed my shadow-lesson was over,
and was about to turn away, as I heard a dis-
tant engine-whistle, when I was surprised to see
the shadow I was watching suddenly grow very
much smaller, so that it was not more than


a fifth its former size. The bug had simply
floated into much shallower water, and, of
course, its shadow was less magnified. The
nearer it approached the bottom the smaller
was the shadow. At the same time I was sur-
prised to see the oar-shadows (cc) of another
water-bug suddenly increase in size and become
circular, and precisely like the forward circles
(id). The two observations explained each
other. The little rower usually carries his oars
dipped beneath the surface, as human boatmen
carry theirs, and consequently their shadows are
smaller than those of the other legs, but he can
raise them to the surface and stand on them,
and then they make shadows as large as the
others. This also shows why the rear shadows
taper to a point; the ends of the hind legs dip
under the water. While I was congratulating
myself on this discovery, I was once more aston-
ished by seeing a new shadow, precisely similar
to those at dd, appear just behind and between
them, forming a triangle of circles (Fig. 3). This
was an easy problem--the bug had simply low-
ered its proboscis to take a drink, or, perhaps,
to make a sub-aqueous observation. Perhaps its
dinner was ready; at all events, my train was.
May their shadows never grow less!


TO THE WINDS OF JUNE.

By MARY A. MASON.

BLOW gently, Winds of June! Each downy nest
Is full of unsung songs and unspread wings
That will respond to patient hoverings;
Soft rocking suit the rustic cradles best.

Blow gently, Winds of June! The bud is here
That soon will be transformed into the rose,
The sweetest miracle that nature knows;
A breath might mar the beauty of the year.

So easily the song drops out of tune,
So eagerly the sun absorbs the dews,
So quickly does the rose its petals lose,
That, for their sakes, blow gently, Winds of June!


638



















































"i .
C ,;-
B
.,~~.. ~' FC~' ^-;
."1. .


...t.rr,.7.li~CC- 1
'~: 5- ''
'''
~I /
'
~ -
: :

":
1.- !.I rJ ~
-lr ~
p
...



:I


A JUNE DAY IN THE ORCHARD.


Li
-r


~u




.1.1 +.




FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


THE SECOND KITTEN'S HUNT.

MAMA," said another kitten, about a week after his brother's meeting
with the turtle as was told in the last ST. NICHOLAS. I am grown up, and
I should like to go and catch mice. I sha'n't catch a turtle."
"Why not wait a few weeks? said his mother.
I can't wait. I feel so big and strong, I must hunt," said the kitten.
"But do you know how?" his mother asked.
It is easy," said the kitten. "All I have to do is to run after a mouse
till I get him in a corner, and then put my paw on him."
But mice are sly," said his mother. So am I," said the kitten.
Very well," said his mother; and I hope you will catch one."
So the kitten walked away with his tail held up high, and went down into
the cellar. The cellar was not very dark, and soon the kitten saw tworats
come creeping and crawling out, to sup upon some wheat stalks which were
in a corner near the big barrel. He thought they were mice. The kitten
saw that there was a queer sort of box there, made of wires, but he did not
know what it was. It is a bird-cage," he said, "but some mean cat has
eaten the bird already. Never mind, I will catch a mouse."
So the kitten jumped, and hit his paw very hard on the stone floor. But
the rats jumped, too, and the kitten heard them laughing. So he was cross,
and ran after one of the rats as hard as he could go.
Now, this was a clever rat, and he saw that the kitten did not know how
to catch him. He ran about a little while, and then played he was very
tired, and sat down near one end of the queer "bird-cage."
"Ah said the kitten, I have tired him out; now I will jump on him."
So the kitten jumped away ran the rat, safe and sound, but there was
a sharp click !- and the kitten found himself caught in the "bird-cage."
"Now, what would mama do, if she was in here?" said the kitten to
himself. I did not ask her how to get out of a bird-cage."
Just then the rats came up to the cage and, hearing him call it a "bird-
cage," said:
"What a pretty bird Sing, birdie, sing!"
A little rat peeked out from a hole in the wall, and said, Tee-hee!"
The kitten was very glad when he heard his mother in soft, furry slippers,
not long after, and he said, Here I am, Mama in the 'bird-cage '! "
Bird-cage," said his mother, and then she began to laugh, too, and said,
"Tee-hee," just as the rats had done. When she stopped laughing, she said:





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK. 64

Why, Kit, that's a rat-trap! and I think you must be taught a little
before you go hunting mice again." Then she helped him out.
As they went up-stairs the kitten heard the three rats in the cellar, and
they said, "Tee-hee Tee-hee Tee-hee!"



















I--
z i








IM,






[JUNE,


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


C, 1 "-. ,IN T-IlE- P U.': -T.

I. :- K IN TH I- L-'L PI T.


DEAR me! This is a busy month, my hearers -
not quite as ornamental or decorative, so to speak,
as May, with her Japanese effects of bare branches
and many blossoms, but more practical and, to my
mind, more beautiful. For the blossoms have be-
gun the work of fruit-making, the gardens are full of
roses, and the fields are fairly nodding with loveli-
ness.
Andthe letters! why, they are fairly raining upon
this pulpit. I cannot show them to you to-day;
but at our next meeting, the July meeting, you know,
I think we shall have nothing but letters-good,
true letters from boys and girls, all answering the
questions put to you from this pulpit last month,
namely, "What is this?" and "Do Animals
Think? "-and let me remark right here that I am
heartily proud of this congregation.
And now to present business. What have we
here? Ah, I see -something kindly sent for the
poor protester by one of your favorite story-tellers,
Miss Alice Maude Ewell:
A PROTEST.
DEAR PUBLIC: Allow me my wrongs to unfold.
Of me every day such queer stories are told,
Past keeping it in, I must really speak out,
And settle this matter beyond further doubt.

As steady a fellow as ever you saw,
The sturdiest stickler for order and law,
Unresting, unswerving, I hold to my way,
From life's morning dawn to the end of its day.

If faster or slower my work-hammer's beat,
If sadly a-weary or joyously fleet -
Still, still it keeps going; night, morning, and noon,
Whenever you listen you 'll hear my brave tune.

I 'm always at work, and I 'm always at home,
Nor high-days nor holidays tempt me to roam.


When all are fast sleeping at midnight, I keep
My watch to make sure they '11 wake safely from
sleep.

Yet what are folks constantly saying of me ?
(I 'm sure when I tell you how falsely you '11 see,)
They say I stand still when they 're shocked or
amazed-
The silliest rumor e'er vanity raised !

They '11 vow that I leap to one's mouth or one's eyes.
(Now, prithee, good Public, consider my size /)
They '11 talk of my sinking most frightfully low,
Into somebody's boots monstrous fib, as you
know.

They '11 say I 've been lost, or been left here or there.
(Why, I never was lost in my life, I declare !)
They '11 say I 've been stolen or traded away,
Or shot by that chit of a Cupid so gay.

They'll even make pictures of me skewered through
With most absurd arrows, (just think of it, do !)
On pink clouds a-floatingwhere rose garlands twine,
In a what-do-you-call-it ? ahem Valentine.

In short, there 's no nonsense they will not invent.
And must I, so slandered, rest meekly content?
My character 's ruined; these chattering elves
Would make me as flighty and wild as them-
selves.

And now, dearest Public, I 've stated my case,
Many thanks to the friends who have granted me
space,
I leave you to judge of the woes I impart,
And sign myself, yours most respectfully,
HEART.
TWO LONG WORDS.
DEAR JACK: Last evening I broke up two good
English words (which shall be sent you, restored,
next month) and" here are the mixed pieces-just
forty-one of them.
Meantime, can the dear little schoolma'am, or
any of her friends, so arrange these forty-one let-
ters as to spell the two words? Every letter here
shown must be used.
PRANSIC HESIBENOS MP ID S LER
ONT ISB O N REPLOS E N E.


Yours truly,


X. Y. Z.


A JUNE ENCOUNTER.
DEAR JACK: I am one of your most devoted readers,
having every number of ST. NICHOLAS. I am especially
fond of reading the letters, and would like to add my
mite to the fund of interest.
Coming from Europe last summer, I met with quite
an adventure. It was in June, and the ocean had been
" as smooth as glass," as the saying goes. But one day
it appeared rougher, while far in the distance could be
seen something glittering.
We were seated at dinner, when word came from
above that there was an iceberg in sight. Every one
rushed up on deck to see the wonder. It was perfectly
beautiful! The sun shone upon it, making it glitter with
all the colors of the rainbow. It looked as if it were


642






1891.] JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 643

made of an immense iridescent crystal. It gradually gather them. But the native dandy, the superlative young
approached the vessel, much to the terror of many of the man, does so when he sets out for his lazy afternoon
passengers. Slowly it came nearer and nearer, towering stroll.
above us like some great giant bent upon destroying us. He has prepared himself for it by lounging all the day,
We all thought the vessel was doomed, when, with- and his air, as he struts along, is that of a person who
out the least warning, the iceberg tottered, and then finds living a great trouble. He is on the lookout, never-
turned over. We were saved! When it fell, it remained theless, for any especially gorgeous blossom, and when
quiet for a few moments, and when 'it again started on he finds one, he lazily plucks it, leaving a long stem, and
its wanderings its course was changed, and it began to fastens it in his hair, disposing it so that it will nod in
float away. graceful harmony with his languid walk.
You can imagine what thankful hearts our vessel held Unfortunately, he does not know moderation,but keeps
as she sped onward toward New York. adding flower after flower, until it sometimes happens
Your loving reader, that his head is one mass of nodding, drooping posies
ISABEL V. M. LIVINGSTON. of such brilliant coloring that the man himself becomes
A FIJI DUDE.
DEAR MR. JACK: Perhaps .1
"dude" is not a word in '. .
good standing with you and .t
your congregation. Well, I
am not fond of foppery my-
self, yet I am disposed to .. .
think that we are sometimes
too severe in our judgment \ .,
ofthis particular species of -
humankind. Surely it is no '.,
more than right for every ,-- -.
person to make himself as at- .-
tractive as possible, and I "
know that history tells us of *- '".
a few great and good men -
who were fops. I have read
that Buffon, the famous nat- ,.. .
uralist, would neither sit -. V
down to write, nor walk in .
his garden to think, unless he
were arrayed in fine clothes,
lace, frills, and ruffs, and was
jeweled and perfumed.
But whether we tolerate
or despise the dude, we must
admit that he is a natural
variety of the human race;
for he is found in every in-
habited part of the globe, be
it burning Africa, or frozen b
Greenland, a vast continent,
or a tiny island in mid-ocean.
And, by speaking of islands,
I have brought myself by de-
grees to the particular dude .
which I have in mind the
Fiji dude.
I remember telling you
some years ago of a South :.
Sea Island fop who had the
very pretty fancy of attaching
living butterflies to his hair,
by means of almost invisible
threads, thus permitting the
beautiful creatures to flutter
about his head as he walked k
abroad. The Fiji dude has
an even prettier fancy.
He seems to have a pas- A FIJI DUDE.
sion for flowers. which, in the
moist, warm climate of the islands, grow with a luxuri- an insignificant part of the display. As the flowers wilt
ance and splendor unknown to men who live in more and fade they are replaced by the fresh ones which are
temperate regions. Orchids and other brilliantly colored to be gathered on every hand.
and exquisite flowers may be plucked on every hand, and Yours truly,
the ordinary Fijian, indeed, does not take the trouble to JOHN R. CORYELL.
See ST. NICHOLAs, Vol. 12, P. 713-





































CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the I5th of September, manuscripts can
not conveniently be examined at the office of the ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the
magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.


U. S. NAVAL ACADEMY, ANNAPOLIS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read letters from a
great many places, but I never saw one from the Naval
Academy. My papa is an officer stationed here; and
the grounds are beautiful all the year, but the spring is
the best time here, for the cadets have drills at four
o'clock every afternoon. During commencement week
in June there is a flag-drill; the cadets are divided into
four companies, and the company that drills the best
carries the colors during all the next year; the marking
is very strict, so they must be particular not to make
the least mistake.
I am seven years old, and have had you for a Christmas
present, for three years. I go to school, and can read,
and I love all the verses you have in your magazine. I
wanted to tell you about my cat, "Teddie," but I am
afraid it will make my letter too long.
DALE S. B- .

ROME, ITALY.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : Perhaps you would like to hear
something about the opening of Parliament in Rome,
which is a very fine affair. The king always opens
Parliament early in December, and he, the queen and
some of the court drive from the palace to the state-
house in the state carriages, which are splendid old-fash-
ioned coaches-masses of carving and gilding. The
coachmen and footmen have on scarlet and gold liveries,
with white silk stockings, powdered wigs, and cocked
hats. Three footmen stand behind, holding on to the
straps. It is exactly like the pictures of Cinderella, ex-
cept that the queen is in modern dress, of course. The
king's carriage is drawn by six horses with white plumes
on their heads and with splendid harness.
The sidewalks are packed with people, but two lines
of soldiers keep all carriages away except those of the
procession.
When they get to the house of Parliament, the king,
in a fine uniform with a brass helmet and an immense


white plume on it, gets out of his carriage and helps the
queen out of hers, and then the people shout: Viva il
Rd! and Viva la Regina! Inside, the great Parliament
chamber is in the form of a semicircle; the king's throne
is on the straight side of the wall. The deputies wear
evening dress with white gloves. The queen and court
ladies sit in a box high up on the right, the diplomatic
corps in another large box on the left, and other people
who have tickets in the gallery between. The king
makes a speech, each deputy in turn takes the oath of
allegiance, cheers the royal family, and it is over. This
year the king's son, the prince of Naples, and his nephew
the duke of Aosta, both just twenty-one, took the oath,
too, which everybody seemed to think very interesting.
Then all march out in great state, the king and queen
drive away slowly, eye-glasses, opera-glasses, and cam-
eras point at them from all sides, soldiers present arms,
and beggars beg, bands play, and dogs bark, and all go
home to breakfast.
I am one of your constant readers, just ten years old
(I mention it as it seems to be the fashion to tell ages in
the letters). As my papa is a U. S. official abroad I
have traveled much, and have seen many interesting
things in the world. Ever your loving friend,
HELOISE S--

NAPLES, ITALY.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : We are traveling in Italy
and have done so much in the last few days that I thought
I would write you a letter to-day. Yesterday we went
up Mount Vesuvius. We bought our tickets at the hotel,
then took a cab down to Cook's office, where we had our
tickets stamped. The carriages did not start until nine
o'clock. There were some men around the office who
wanted to sell canes to help us climb. The carriage we
went in was a regular two-horse carriage only it had three
horses. For almost an hour after we passed the gates
it was just the same as in the city. There were a great
many beggars who ran along beside the carriage, and







THE LETTER-BOX.


the farther away from Naples we got, the more beggars
there were. About two hours from Naples we came to
the lava streams. It was the funniest looking stuff you
ever saw. We got to the place called the Hermitage at
twelve, where we took the wire-rope railroad. At the
top we had to walk. There are some men that want to
pull you up but we did not take any of them. The path
was very zigzaggy and not very steep until we reached
the old crater, which does not let out much smoke. After
that the path was very steep. Walter and I climbed up
alone. About half-way up we both got so much sulphur
in our lungs and were out of breath that we felt like going
back, but we took a little rest and put our handkerchiefs
up to our mouths and got up to the top of the crater. I
did not want to go any farther because I was scared, but
the guide took hold of me and pulled me down into the
crater. Every few seconds there would be a big boom,
and red-hot stones would fly up and fire would go up, too,
and a puff of smoke would go up, and it was awful. All
the bad people in the world ought to see that and I am
pretty sure they would all turn good. I think that Mt.
Vesuvius is the best part of Europe so far.
Your faithful reader,
FRED.

ALAMEDA, CAL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am sick, so my aunt is writ-
ing this for me. I went in a ship around Cape Horn
to Liverpool, and I was one hundred and thirty days,
and the ship's name was the I. F. Chapman. At Cape
Horn it was very cold. In rough weather, the steward
would carry me over on his back to the galley and I
made doughnuts with the cook and steward. My father
bought eighteen chickens, and the carpenter on board
made a chicken-coop for them, and I fed them all the
way, and seven of them died, six were killed, two we
gave to the captain, and three left are coming back on
the ship to me. I expect them every day now. I went
to Brighton and stayed there a little over five months in
boarding-school, while my mama and papa traveled in
Europe. I was glad to get back to California.
I have a little brother four years old, and I am nine,
and we are both Americans. Your little friend,
EDWIN 0-

STAUNTON, VA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have seen in a paper a short
account of Margaret of Orleans, and thinking that the
readers of Lady Jane," would like to know more of
" Mother Margaret" I send you the following little his-
tory: She lived in New Orleans and was known simply
as "Margaret." Her name was Margaret Hauggery,
and years ago she took care of the cows in a large stable,
situated near the spot where the statue now stands. She
fed and milked the cows and sold the milk from a cart
which she drove about the city. She had lost both hus-
band and child and, at that time, was entirely alone in
the world. In the course of a few years, by exercising
strict economy, she managed to save enough to buy a
small bakery. She prospered in her new undertaking
and was soon able to build a larger house. Before long
bread carts were running all over the city bearing the
simple words "Margaret's Bakery." Her bread and
rolls became famous and she had many patrons. During
the war, and in fever epidemics, she ran free bread carts
through the city, generously supplying those who were
too poor to buy.
Margaret always furnished the bread free to the city
asylums and hospitals.
She founded several orphan asylums herself, and at
the time of her death her little charges were numbered by
the thousands.
She spent very little on herself. She dressed in calico,
and wore coarse, heavy shoes, and she had no luxuriesin


her modest dwelling. She cared nothing for her own
comfort and ease, but devoted her life to the good of
others.
When Margaret died all business houses were closed
and the city put on mourning.
Thousands of little orphans and school children took
part in the funeral procession. All the bells in the city
were tolled, the houses all along the line of march were
draped in mourning, and all classes joined in the pro-
cession.
The statue to her memory was erected by the city. It
represents her seated, with one arm around a child who
stands at her side. Her dress is plain and simple. Her
fine head with its smoothly parted hair and her pleasant,
though serious face show a true womanhood, and make
the statue both striking and unique. It stands in a little
triangular park, at the junction of Camp and Prytanea
streets, directly in front of an orphan asylum. At the
time of its erection, it was the only public statue in the
United States in memory of a woman.
I have been reading ST. NICHOLAS for four years and
enjoy it very much. Your constant and devoted reader,
MARGARET C- .


THE illustrated jingle which follows is the work of
our young contributor, Master E. A. Cleveland Coxe.
We commend the moral to all young lawbreakers.

Jhe bniortunate &atherf






Ho/says -fhis policeman on'ia a smile
.Sole caugl ou people baihin'm fihe Ni/e!
.rt they only laVfiu anc roar;
*. For they ill not come asfiove


Until Oapears the chd decl
Croco"ole!













POKLISA, TRANSYLVANIA, AUSTRIA.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As I do not remember
ever seeing a letter from Transylvania in your charming
magazine, I thought I might write you one from this
out-of-the-way corner of the world. We are the only
English people in this part of the country, and live in
an old white house in a little village called Poklisa. I
wonder if any of your readers have ever seen a Transyl-
vanian village. I can scarcely call it pretty, with its
thatched, wooden huts, fences formed of interlaced twigs
and branches, muddy roads, and abundance of pigs. Ex-







THE LETTER-BOX.


cept for ourselves and one or two Hungarians, the rest
of the inhabitants of Poklisa are Rumanian peasants.
I am very interested in these people. They speak a pretty
language, and dress quite picturesquely. The men wear
loose white linen clothes, a sheepskin waistcoat and
broad leather belt, and either a high curly white or black
sheepskin cap, or a wide-brimmed flat hat like a Mexi-
can sombrero. In winter they have thick, long woolen
coats, generally white. On their feet they wear a sort of
leather sandals called "apinci." The women dress in
white also, with waistcoats sometimes beautifully em-
broidered, and two gaily colored aprons, one worn in
front, the other behind. You can easily tell whether they
are married, as the women roll their heads in a long white
cloth, while the girls plait their hair at one side in a most
unbecoming fashion.
The Rumanians have many queer old customs. On
Christmas day, in each village, they have a "cerbi."
That is a man dressed up as a stag, with wide horns and
ears, and a long nose. He goes to all the houses dan-
cing and acting, followed by a boy playing a flute, and
all the unmarried men of the place. He is a most com-
ical sight, as you may imagine, and makes one laugh
very much. Another thing they do is on New Year's
morning, when a party of carters come round with their
long whips, and wake up the people of the house by
cracking them a noisy salute. That is their way of
wishing a Happy New Year.
Besides Hungarians and Rumanians we have plenty
of gipsies here. These are very lazy, dark, and dirty,
and up to all sorts of mischief. One day I went to see-
a gipsy village. It consisted of about a dozen miserable
little huts, half sunk in the earth, and built of turf and
loose stones. It was swarming with untidy children ;
and while we were there a very ragged man with long
black hair came out of one of the huts and played to us
on a sort of bagpipes. All gipsies are fond of music.
They play most beautifully on the violin, and every little
town and village has its gipsy band. Indeed they are
so idle, that is the only way they care to earn their living.
I should like to tell you about the bear-hunts I have
seen, and of the good time we had camping out in the
mountains last autumn, but I am afraid my letter is too
long already. So hoping you will print it, for it is the
first I have written, though we have taken you for ten
years, I am your devoted reader,
BEATRICE.

FORT SELLING, MINN.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : This post, which is one
of the largest in the United States, is divided ;nto three
parts: The upper post, the lower post, and the ordnance
depot.
What is now the ordnance depot used to be the old
fort; the old one-story stone quarters and the remains
of the old gray stone walls are standing yet, and look
very picturesque from a distance, especially in the sum-
mer, when the green of the trees contrasts with the
crumbling walls. Near it stands the old tower, which
was part of a wall (now taken down) built across the
point for fortification.
In the lower post is the hospital and part of the officers'
quarters; going on up we reach as the next thing of inter-
est the headquarters building, in which are the offices, the


post school, etc.; next to it, a little back, is the post hall.
Farther up on the other side are the other officers' quar-
ters, built of yellow brick; in front of them are beautiful
lawns dotted with numerous trees. Just opposite are the
soldiers' quarters, also of yellow brick, built within the
past two years. There have been here, as prisoners, about
twenty Bruld Sioux Indians from the Pine Ridge Agency.
We remain your faithful readers, F. K--
C. K-

ALBANY, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have this year subscribed to
your interesting magazine. It was one of my Christmas
presents. We lived in a hotel last winter, while my papa
was in the Legislature, and I had nothing to do but read
and write. I send you a little rhyme I made while watch-
ing the raindrops on the telephone wires:
I am, your loving friend,
W. H. D-., JR.

THE RAINDROPS.
See the little raindrops go,
Some are fast and some are slow,
Swift along the wires they fly,
And as they pass my window by
I think them like a life,
Swift gliding, full of strife.
Some are weak, and some are strong,
And as they meet, some fall, some pass along.

CHICAGO, ILL.
ST. NICHOLAS: I have no brothers nor sisters and I
was often very lonely up to the time that I got the ST.
NICHOLAS. I like "The Fortunes of Toby Trafford."
It makes me mad when I read about Tom Tazwell; he's
just like a boy near where I live. In school we have
very nice times. We have a hall in which we go to sing on
Friday. We have an orchestra of violins, a flute, and
a piano. Your reader,
WILLIAM D--.

WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: Kate C. Wasson,
Bessie M., Nellie P., Hattie F. W., A. E. C., Nannie
L. S., Mabel G., M. S. G., Helen G. C., Ednah F. C.,
Cushman and David N., Nannie S., Edith W., Hetty M.
A., Elizabeth B. T.,,M. Christabel M., Hugh Eglinton
M., Grace B., Walter F., Ray E. B., Fred M. B., Helen
M., Lulu B. McA.,Walter S., Unity M. T., Horace G.,
M. Clare J., Edna E., Douglas S. N., Nellie O. B., May
M. D., Roy W. H., Birdie B., Bessie G., Carl H.,
Clarence F., Phillips K., Beth, Donald A. S., Eleanor
U., Harold U., Winifred F., Elva E. F., Marguerite,
Eliza N. W. A., Annie C. J., Florence A., Laurel V.
H., Raymond N., Shirley B., Kitty S. J., Effie F., Ethel
L. P., Norman B., Alice C., Heidi G. S., Marion and
Meriam W., Flora L. B., John F., Maud S., Russell S.,
Leslie McB., Gertie A. W., Fannie R. S., Selma P.,
Allie S., Elvenia J. J., T. Charles N., Helen Louise M.,
J. J. F., Natalie S., Charles E. M., Atwood M., Ferris
N., Edith R., Jimmie W., J. H. E., Clyde N., H. R. R.,
Bessie and Alice, Louise B., Harry H., Marion D.,
Thomas G. S., Sophy M., Fred K. C., Mamie C., Regi-
nald B., Edith R. S., Ruth S. G., Rebecca W. B.


646








ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER.
DIAMOND. I. C. 2. Mab. 3. Jalap. 4. Materia. -. Caledonia. ZIGZAG. Chancellorsville. Cross-words: I. Cram. 2. Chin.
6. Baronet. 7.Pines. 8. Ait. 9. A. 3. Brad. 4. Bran. -. Pict. 6. Feat. 7. Loon. 8. Clay. 9. Plot.
RHYMED WORD-SQUARE. I. Thomas. 2. Hopest. 3. Opiate. to. Scar. r. Vast. I2. Avow. 13. Ibex. 14. Flaw. I5. Fold.
4. Meagre. 5. Astral. 6. Steels. 16. Doge.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, John Keats; finals, Leigh Hunt.
Cross-words: i. Jail. 2. Oboe. 3. Hem. 4. Nung. 5. Koch. PI. All about the softening air
6. Each. About. 8. Thin. 9. Shut. Of new-bornm sweetness tells,
6. And the ungathered May-flowers wear
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Centrals, Memorial Day. Cross-words: The tints of ocean shells.
,. M. 2. Met. 3. Lemon. 4. Trope. 5. Porch. 6. Blink. The old, assuring miracle
7. Yearn. 8. Baled. 9. Olden. 10. Impaled. x. Playful. Is fresh as heretofore;
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. And earth takes up its parable
"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, Of life from death once more.
And summer's lease hath all too short a date."
WORD-BUILDING. A, as, sal, last, tales, valets, estival, festival. HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, Audubon. Cross-words : I. abrAdes
RIMLESS WHEEL AND HUB. From I to 8, Schubert; 9 to 16, 2. flUte. 3. oDd. 4. U. 5. aBt. 6. shOck. 7. shiNgle.
Hamilton. From i to 9, sloth; 2 to 1o, cobra; 3 to I;, Hiram; RHOMtBOID AND DIAMOND. Rhomboid. Across: Sages.
4 to 12, Ugoni; 5 to 13, broil; 6 to 14, eclat; 7 to 15, Romeo; 2. Madam. 3. Sated. 4. Metal. 5. Debar. Included diamond:
8 to 16, Titan. a. S. 2. Dam. 3. Sated. 4. Met. 5. D.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the x5th 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 MARCH NUMBER were received, before March isth, from Paul Reese Maude E. Palmer-
Josephine Sherwood Mama and Jamie Alice M. Blanke and sister-" The Wise Five "- Pearl F. Stevens Clara B. Orwig- L. O.
E. and C. E.-E. M. G.-A. H. and R -Agnes and Elinor-" Infantry"-Nellie L. Howes- Blanche and Fred-Violette-" Uncle
Mung "-" King Anso IV."- Edith Sewall-- Cousin Jack-" Lehte"-Ida C. Thallon.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before March I5th, from Helen Hughes, r- Roger B. Farquhar, Jr., -
John Cabot, Jr., 2 -Natalie B., i--Warren Filkins, I-" The Peterkins," 8- Effie K. Talboys, 5- R. and L. Williams, i- Geo.
Holmes, 2-"Faith," i -" Reynard," 3-E. A. C., Stanley, i--Elaine S., 3 -Julia F. Phyfe, 2--Carlotta Morgan, -
"Squib," -" Texas Steer," --Nellie L. Denis, i-"Only I," i -Lisa D. Osgood, 8-Jennie and Madge, 3-Arthur B. Law-
rence. 6- Annie S. Hawes, x -"Kendal," 2- Holcombe Ward, 3- Helen C. McCleary, 9- Channing Newton, I A. P. C. and
A. W. Ashhurst, 7-" Papa, Mama, Uncle Frank, and Clara," i-Nellie M. Archer, 4-" Emajinashun," 3-H. L. Bingay,9 -" Nip
and Bang," 5--Mary C. and Beth T., 4- Marian S., 3-Sara L. R., 7-C. A. M. P., 7-C. Estelle and Clarendon Ions, 3-
"May and 79," 5-" The Scott Family," 8 -Hypothenuse and K," 2-" Charles Beaufort," 8-P. R. England, 2 Clara and Emma, 4
--Charley E Griffith, 2- Mr. Toots," 8-" Two Cousins," Carrie Thacher, 4-Me and Sister, 3 -Bertha W. Groesbeck, 4
Mama, Margaret, and Marion," 2 -" Ida and Alice," 9 -" Two Puzzler," 7 F. B. Barrett, i -" Puzzles," 2.


[Ir'L -L1


S 1 1 WORD-SQUARES.

r I. I. A large bird. 2. TheAmer-
ican aloe. 3. A junto. 4. The front
of an army. 5. Narrow strips of leather
around a shoe.
II. I. The green plover. 2. One of the
Muses. 3. To vacillate. 4. Makes a note of. 5. A
species of cod. "REYNARD.

AN ESCUTCHEON.


CROSS-WORDS: I. A celebrated Dutch painter. 2. A
celebrated French mathematician and philosopher, born
in 1743. 3. The composer of Masaniello. 4. A well-
known Germdn novelist, now living, 5. A famous Eng-
lish poet born in 1788. 6. A very famous singer. 7. An


American novelist of to-day. 8. A German composer,
born in 1714. 9. A French writer of mock-scientific
romances. Io. The wife of Athamus. II. In Tennyson.
The central letters, reading downward, will spell the
name of a poet. "CHARLES BEAUFORT."
WORD-BUILDING.
I. A vowel. 2. A preposition. 3. A tributary of the
Rhone. 4. Advantage. 5. A measure of weight. 6. A
plowing of land. 7. Robbing. 8. Untwisting. 9. Jour-
neying. o1. An attenuated plant. "XELIS."
HOUR-GLASS.
I. A SINGER. 2. To imagine. 3. An insect. 4. In
hour-glass. 5. A metal. 6. Abrupt in address. 7.
Original.
The central letters, reading downwards, will spell a
country of Europe. ALICE C. CALDWELL.
-" NOVEL DIAMONDS.
I. WHEN first I went to I,my eye was caught by a 1-2-3
which a comrade wore. I asked him where he bought it
and he answered, "At 1-2-3-4-5." But my 1-2-3-4-6-7
was to have it immediately, at any 3-4-5-6-7, so he gave
it to me, in exchange for a piece of 5-6-7, and then I was
more at my 7 s.
The words to be supplied may be arranged so as to
form a diamond.
II. WITH some friends, at our I's, we sat down to 1-2-3,
but when we had 1-2-3-4-5 we found that it was 3-4-5
o'clock, so our pleasure came to an 5 d.
The words to be supplied may be arranged so as to
form a diamond. M. E. D.






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


IO!! f WORD
SYNOOPATIONS.
EXAMPLE: Take a
conjunction from sta-
tion and leave to pain
i acutely. Answer, st-
and-ing, sting.
I. Take a little demon
S 'M from artlessly, and
leave cunning. 2. Take
conflict from to recom-
pense, and leave a
color. 3. Take to in-
stigate from to im-
poverish, and leave
to fasten. 4. Take an insect from sloped, and leave
something used in winter. 5. Take a club from argued,
and leave an act. 6. Take to perform from a salt, and
leave tardy. 7. Take a pronoun from whipped, and leave
a small boy. 8. Take a sailor from gazing intently, and
leave to carol. 9. Take a sphere from an alms-basket,
and leave a metal cup. o1. Take consumed from revolves,
and leave decays. II. 'ake a masculine nickname from
sarcastic, and leave a salmon in his third year.
All of the removed words contain three letters. When
these are placed one below another, the central letters,
reading downwards, will spell the name of an important
document, signed on June 15, 1215. F. S. F.

PI.
ROMF eht sadtint cropit drants,
Hewer eth wilbols, thrigb dan bandl,
Og pegcrine, licrung droun het psalm hwit twese tinaf
tenurudne,
Morf sit sidlef fo plugprin slowfer
Slitl tew wiht frangart sweshor,
Het phayp hutso dwin, nilginger, wepses het loray bolsom
fo nuje.
HALF-SQUARE.
I. PERTAINING to the north. 2. A mountain nymph.
3. To lease. 4. To consume gradually. 5. A Latin
preposition. 6. In riddles.
A STAR.






4 4 44



ACROSS: I. In midsummer. 2. A preposition. 3. The
surname of a president who died on June 28. 4. A


small particle. 5. A step. 6. The fruit of certain trees
which grow in warm climates. 7. Sea-nymphs. 8. Two-
thirds of gloomy. 9. In midsummer.
FRANK SELLING.
A GREEK CROSS.






44 4 *


44 4 4 4
* 4 44 4
* '4 44


I. UPPER SQUARE: I. A small drum. To wor-
ship. 3. A kind of knife. 4. A large bay window.
5. Vacillates.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: I. The point opposite the
zenith. 2. An animal that has no feet. 3. A fish.
4. Fanciful. 5. Staggers.
III. CENTRAL SQUARE: I. Dances. 2. Applause.
3. To run away. 4. An error. 5. Precipitous.
IV. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. To soak in a liquid.
2. An ornament for the head. 3. Desirous. 4. Upright.
5. Participator.
V. LOWER SQUARE: I. To imbue. 2. The earth. 3. A
parasitic fungus found on rye. 4. To eat into. 5. A
plate on which consecrated bread is placed.
ELDRED JUNGERICH.

A ST. NICHOLAS NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I AM composed of twelve letters.
My 2-5-7 is on the cover of ST. NICHOLAS. My 7-8-
4-9-2-3-12 are worn by all readers of ST. NICHOLAS.
My 11-2-7 is a name by which several readers of ST.
NICHOLAS are called. My 11-6-o1-4-2-8-12 is whatwe
hope the readers of ST. NICHOLAS are not. My I-Ii-
6-7 is in the nursery of some of the children who read
ST. NICHOLAS. My 7-1O-I2-9-10-3 is a city where
many of the readers of ST. NICHOLAS live. My 1-6-9-
5-2-3 is what the readers of ST. NICHOLAS like to find
in cake. My 4-8-11-3-12 is what boys and girls take in
reading ST. NICHOLAS. My I-10-4-9-1o-3 furnishes
material for the pages of ST. NICHOLAS. My 1-11-6-
4-6-1-12 have praised ST. NICHOLAS ..
My whole are so important thatST.:NICHOLAS could
not get along without them. FRANK AND HERMANN K.


THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.




University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs