• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 A rhyme of robin puck
 Four sides to a triangle
 Prince Elecampane of the golden...
 The statue
 A hint
 Jingle
 The crowned children of Europe
 The fortunes of Toby Trafford
 Good measure of love
 Plain truths about hunting
 The torpedo-station at Newport
 Jingle
 The merry outlaw, Bob o' Linco...
 The song of the thrush
 Vacation days
 How the maiden and the bear sailed...
 Chan ok; A romance of the eastern...
 The twins
 The swimming-hole stories
 The story of the "century" cat
 A new tale of a tub
 A morning in the hayfield...
 Some incidents of Stanley's...
 The story of my life
 The frogs' singing school
 The rabbit and the donkey
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 A marble quarry
 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/UF00065513/00244
 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: VID00244
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
    A rhyme of robin puck
        Page 731
    Four sides to a triangle
        Page 732
        Page 733
        Page 734
        Page 735
        Page 736
        Page 737
    Prince Elecampane of the golden plume
        Page 738
    The statue
        Page 739
        Page 740
    A hint
        Page 741
    Jingle
        Page 741
    The crowned children of Europe
        Page 742
        Page 743
        Page 744
    The fortunes of Toby Trafford
        Page 745
        Page 746
        Page 747
        Page 748
        Page 749
        Page 750
        Page 751
        Page 752
        Page 753
    Good measure of love
        Page 754
    Plain truths about hunting
        Page 755
        Page 756
        Page 757
        Page 758
        Page 759
        Page 760
    The torpedo-station at Newport
        Page 761
    Jingle
        Page 762
    The merry outlaw, Bob o' Lincoln
        Page 763
    The song of the thrush
        Page 764
    Vacation days
        Page 765
        Page 766
        Page 767
        Page 768
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
    How the maiden and the bear sailed away
        Page 773
        Page 774
    Chan ok; A romance of the eastern seas
        Page 775
        Page 776
        Page 777
        Page 778
        Page 779
        Page 780
        Page 781
    The twins
        Page 782
    The swimming-hole stories
        Page 783
        Page 784
    The story of the "century" cat
        Page 785
        Page 786
        Page 787
    A new tale of a tub
        Page 788
        Page 789
    A morning in the hayfield (illustration)
        Page 790
    Some incidents of Stanley's expedition
        Page 791
        Page 792
        Page 793
        Page 794
    The story of my life
        Page 795
        Page 796
        Page 797
    The frogs' singing school
        Page 798
    The rabbit and the donkey
        Page 799
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 800
        Page 801
    A marble quarry
        Page 802
        Page 803
    The letter-box
        Page 804
        Page 805
        Page 806
    The riddle-box
        Page 807
        Page 808
        Unnumbered ( 83 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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ST. NICHOLAS.


VOL. XVIII.


AUGUST, 1891.


A RHYME OF ROBIN PUCK.

BY HELEN GRAY CONE.


HOWSOE'ER the tale be spread,
Puck, the pranksome, is not dead.

At such tidings of mishap,
Any breeze-blown columbine
Would but toss a scarlet cap,-
Would but laugh, with shaken head,
" Trust it not, do not repine,
Puck, the pranksome, is not dead!"
If you know not what to think,
Ask the tittering bobolink;
Straightway shall the answer rise
Bubbling from his gleeful breast:
" Dead ? 'T is but his latest jest !
Robin Puck, the wild and wise,
Frolics on, and never dies! "


Tricksy Puck! I shall not tell
How it is I know him well.
Swift yet clumsy, plump yet wee,
Brown as hazel-nut is he;
And from either temple springs
Such a waving, hair-like horn
As by butterflies is worn;
Glassy-clear his glistening wings,
Like the small green-bodied flies'
In the birch-woods; and his eyes,
Set aslant, as blackly shine -
As the myriad globes wherein
The wild blackberry keeps her wine;
And his voice is piercing thin,
But he changes that at will-
Mocking rogue!-with birdlike skill.


Had we but the elfin sight, now It is I must no tell,
On some pleasant summer night But you see I know him well.
We should see him and his crew
In the fields that gleam with dew; Ah with some rare, secret spell
Had we but the elfin ear Should we bathe in moonlit dew
(Pointed sharply like a leaf), Eyes that this world's book have read,
In the meadows we should hear We should see him and his crew
Fairy pipings, fine and brief, In the dreamy summer dell:
Shrilled through throats of tiniest flowers; For, however the tale be spread,
Would that subtler sense were ours! Puck, the pranksome, is not dead!
Copyright, 1891, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.


No. o0.







cANp


By CHARLES R. TALBOT.
-5-- *-r




~I By CHARLES 1k. TALBOT.


r HE race was to be a tri-
angular one; the starting
point off Ruggles's wharf; thence two miles
and a half E. S. E. to Old Can Buoy; thence
one and three-quarters miles, N. E. by N.,
around Wood Island; and then three miles
W. by S., straight home again. It was to be
sailed by the Quinnebaug Catboat Club, a
youthful organization of the town of Quinne-
.baug, consisting of six catboats with their
respective owners and crews, and having a
constitution, a commodore, a club-house, and
a club-signal, all its own. The prizes were given
by the bishop's daughter. They were an ele-
gant yachting ensign for the boat first in, and a
brass compass set in a rosewood box for the
second. The boys were enthusiastic over the
prospect. There was not one of them, com-
modore, captain, or crew, but believed that
the boat he sailed in would take either first or
second prize.
Phil Carr and Horace Martin stopped at the
bishop's cottage on the way down to the wharf,
the morning of the race, to take a last look at
the prizes. Miss Maitland herself was on the
porch as they came up. Miss Maitland was a


very beautiful young lady who came every sum-
mer to Quinnebaug with her father, the bishop.
She took a warm interest in the affairs of the
catboat club. She went into the cottage with
Phil and Homer, and once more the ensign and
compass were examined and admired.
I only wish I might see this at the peak of
the Nameless,' said Phil, with the bunting in
his hand. He spoke with the least bit of a sigh.
The Nameless was a good boat; but, alas there
was one boat in the club, the Flash," that up
to this time had been able to show herself a
better. It was to this fact that Phil owed it
that Clarence Caldwell and not he himself was
commodore of the club.
I am sure I wish you might," said Miss
Maitland, heartily.
Phil was a favorite with her, and there was
no boy in the club to whom she would rather
have awarded the prize.
"I shall try my best," said Phil.
Then Miss Maitland took from the table and
held up before the boys what she laughingly in-
formed them was a third prize, a large tin watch
with a leather chain.
"This is given by my Uncle Poindexter,"






FOUR SIDES TO A TRIANGLE.


said she. He has come down here to deliver
a lecture for the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals. You know he is full of fun.
This is one of his jokes. It 's a booby prize
for the boat that comes in last."
The Nameless won't take that, at any rate,"
Phil declared stoutly. Will she, Horace ?"
"No," said Horace emphatically, "the Name-
less won't take that."
There were things that the Nameless could n't
do. She could n't come in last at a race.
SThe day of the great race came.
Down at the wharf quite a number of people
had assembled, and the boats were already pre-
paring for the start. The Nameless was quickly
among them, with Phil at the helm and Horace
close at hand, ready and alert at the slightest
hint to do his captain's bidding. Presently the
first gun was fired from the judge's boat, and the
boats, all under way now, began standing about,
each with the purpose of crossing the starting line
at the earliest possible moment. Then, as the
final minute drew near, one after another, as
each found itself in position, they sprang away
across the line. Bang! from the tug went the
second signal; and the race was begun.
It was anybody's race for the first stretch.
The wind was free, and good sailing was easy
for everybody. The boats, all six, were still
keeping well together as they rounded the Old
Can Buoy.
From that point on, however, things were
different. The breeze was forward now; and
presently, with Wood Island to keep it off,
there was less of it. There was a chance for
manceuvering. You could make long tacks or
short ones; you could lay a boat close to the
wind or could keep her off; and the sailing
qualities of both crafts and skippers were put
more severely to the test. It soon became
apparent, on this windward stretch, which
were the better boats of the fleet. Two of
them, before long, had drawn well ahead of
the other four and seemed to be making up
a match between themselves. They were the
Flash and the Nameless. Phil Carr's eye spar-
kled and his heart beat quicker as he realized
the fact. This was what he wanted; indeed,
it was what he had expected. He had believed
all along that the two boats destined to take


those two prizes were his own and Clarence
Caldwell's. He had felt sure that the Nameless
would get the second prize at least. But he
intended her to take the first. And as he sat
there, the tiller in one hand and the sheet in
the other, and felt his boat draw and spring
beneath him, Phil resolved that she should take
the first. The Flash was not a better boat than
the Nameless. Certainly, Clarence Caldwell was
not a better sailor than he. And if pluck and
skill and watchfulness could do anything, he
meant to be in first at the finish, and not second.
The Flash weathered the north point of Wood
Island first, however, and, standing on a few
moments beyond it to make sure of deep water,
was first to turn westward for the home stretch.
But the Nameless was not far behind her; and
Phil, as he cleared the island, noted a condition
of things that more than counterbalanced the
distance between the two boats. The wind had
shifted, around here. The run home would be
straight before it. Moreover it was blowing
harder. Now, as it happened, this state of
things was exactly what the Nameless wanted
and what the Flash did not want. With the
wind aft and plenty of it, the Nameless was
always at her best and the Flash at her worst.
Phil Carr's heart swelled exultantly as he slack-
ened his own sheet and headed his boat home-
ward. Well he knew that long before that
three-mile stretch was ended he would over-
haul his rival and leave him behind.
Five minutes later it seemed clear that Phil's
hopes would be realized. They were certainly
overtaking the Flash. The gestures of the
boys on board the latter boat could now be
plainly discerned. Phil gaily declared that he
could see their faces grow long at the prospect
of being beaten. Presently a stir was observa-
ble on board the Flash, and then Commodore
Caldwell was seen to be looking very intently
through a pair of field-glasses at something
off to the northward.
There 's nothing over there but Highwater
Rock," said Phil. "What's he looking at
Highwater Rock for?"
Perhaps he wants to know about the tide,"
Horace suggested.
It was a well-known fact among the boys that
the state of the tide could be at any time almost





FOUR SIDES TO A TRIANGLE.


exactly determined by a look at Highwater
Rock. The rock was all out of water at low
tide, and was just covered from sight at high
tide. It was from this fact that it got its name.
It lay half a mile or so northward of where
the boats now were and could be plainly seen,
although only a foot or so of it was now above
water. The tide was nearly in.
Humph !" said Phil in answer to Horace's
suggestion; "he would n't need a pair of
opera-glasses to see the tide with. No," he
added, after a moment, he 's looking at some-
thing on the rock. What can it be ? It looks
like a bird or something. Hand me the spy-
glass, will you ?"
So Horace brought the spy-glass from where
it hung in the companionway, and Phil, giving
Horace the tiller, opened it, carefully adjusted
it to a mark on the barrel, and then leveled it in
the direction of the rock. He had hardly done
so when he uttered an exclamation:
Why," cried he, "it 's a cat!"
"A cat! repeated Horace in astonishment.
"How came a cat on Highwater Rock? "
I don't know," Phil answered, still looking
through his glass. "But it's a cat, sure. Some-
body's left it there to get rid of it, maybe."
"Well, they 've taken a sure way," said
Horace, The rock will be all under water in
half an hour."
Poor thing! murmured Phil in a pitying
tone. The glass brought the cat so near that
it almost seemed the victim might hear him.
"It 's too bad. I 'd stop and pick you up,
if I was n't sailing a race."
They stood on several minutes, still watching
the cat with interest. It seemed too bad to
leave her there. But what could be done?
"I vow !" exclaimed Phil at last. "I think
Clarence Caldwell might run over there and
take her off."
He spoke in an irritated tone. Possibly his
own conscience was pricking him a little.
I don't see why he should do it any more
than we should," observed Horace simply.
I do," declared Phil. He 's going to lose
the race, anyway; and it won't make so much
difference to him."
Horace shook his head. I don't believe he
will look at it in that way," said he.


It would seem that the owner of the Flash
did not look at it in that way, for he still stood
on. And the Nameless stood on after him.
But Phil still looked anxiously now and then at
the cat. And presently he took to looking
aft, too, where the four other boats could now
be seen coming round the island.
Perhaps some of them would go over and
get the cat. There was no reason they should
not; they could n't win the race.
But the minutes passed and the boats held
on; and (although they must have seen her)
not one of them showed any signs of turning
aside to go to the rescue of the cat. Phil dis-
gustedly gave them up at last, every one of
them, as cases of utter, incurable heartlessness.
Then he looked over at the cat again. He
almost fancied he could hear the poor crea-
ture's cries as the water rose about her. He
turned his eyes away. He would not look at
her. But he could not help thinking of her.
Then, all in an instant, he jumped to his feet,
shoved over his tiller and began hauling in his
sheet. The boat came up to the wind and in
another moment, with her sheet trimmed well
aft, the Nameless was running off at a sharp
angle from her former course.
Well! uttered Horace in blank amazement,
"what 's that for, I should like to know?
What are you going to do ?"
I 'm going after that cat," answered Phil
grimly. And that was all he said.

At the "finish of the race, the Flash came
in first, still making good her claim to being
the best boat in the club. Commodore Cald-
well proudly kissed his hand, as amid plaudits
from the shore and the waving of gay-hued
parasols and handkerchiefs he shot across the
line and his time was taken.
The "Prancer" came next, not so very far
behind, winner of second place. Then followed,
one after the other, the Winsome," the "Jolie,"
and the Black-Eyed Susan."
And last, with her colors union down in comic
token of distress, came the Nameless. Phil's
friends greeted him laughingly as he and Horace
came up the steps of the wharf.
Hallo, Phil," they cried, "brought 'em all
back with you this time, eh ? "






FOUR SIDES TO A TRIANGLE.


Yes," answered Phil laughing too. "We
carried everything before us this time."
Then, with the cat under his arm, he went up
to the bishop's to get his tin watch. Phil had
no notion of being ashamed of himself because
he had been beaten. He was not sorry for
what he had done.
There was a gathering of the guests on the
bishop's lawn, where there were to be refresh-
ments, and the awarding of the prizes.


Maitland's uncle, came forward holding a paste-
board box. Mr. Poindexter was a quaint, wiry
little gentleman with a nervous manner and a
quick, jerky way of speaking. His jokes always
sounded funny whether they were so or not.
Phil bit his lip and felt that his time had come.
Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Poindexter
began in a comically impressive tone, I believe
that watches or chronometers are generally con-
sidered indispensable on board ship."


"'WHY' CRIED PHIL, 'IT 'S A CAT!'"


Miss Maitland herself conferred the first two
prizes, speaking a few appropriate words to
the winners as she did so. Phil Carr's heart
throbbed rebelliously as he saw Clarence Cald-
well receive and bear away the yachting ensign.
Phil had wanted that ensign dreadfully, and he
knew that "by good rights" he ought to have it.
But he was glad that Dave Comstock took the
second prize, which Dave could not have done
had the Nameless kept her course.
Then, after a moment, Mr. Poindexter, Miss


Then he took the tin watch from the box and
held it up to view. There was a burst of good-
natured merriment from the audience. They
understood that this was the booby prize.
I suppose they are needed," continued the
speaker, "to keep the ship from being behind
time." At this there was more merriment.
Then he added facetiously, "I don't know
whether this is the starboard watch or the port
watch or the dog watch. Perhaps it is the
anchor watch." Whereupon those who were






FOUR SIDES TO A TRIANGLE.


"AND LAST CAME THE NAMELESS."


listening laughed more than ever; all except
Phil, who did not feel like seeing anything
funny about it at all.
Then Mr. Poindexter's manner suddenly be-
came graver.
But before I call upon the young gentleman
who has won this valuable prize to come forward
and receive it, I wish to show you its works,"
said he, and to tell you a little story about it."
Mr. Poindexter, as he spoke these words,
touched a spring in the case of the watch,
which, flying open, disclosed a bright object
within. This object he took out and held up
to view by itself. It was a beautiful gold watch
and chain. The audience gazed at it in silent
wonder, Phil Carr more amazed and mystified
than all the rest.
"You all know," continued Mr. Poindexter,
smiling, that I am a member of the Society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. That
is my hobby, people say. And I am quite con-
tent that they should call it so, if they like.
Certainly, the objects which that society has in
view commend -themselves to me, and I think so


well of them that I do everything I can to for-
ward them wherever I am. When I came down
here yesterday and learned about the boat race,
I immediately concocted a little plan of my own
in connection with it, which had to do directly
with this hobby of mine. I resolved to test
these boys, while they were racing their boats
and striving for their prizes, in a new way-to
find out how much kindness of heart they could
feel and show for a dumb animal in distress.
"This was the way I did it. This morning,
as soon as the boats started in the race, I had a
man take a steam launch and go down to what
you know as Highwater Rock and leave there,
on the rock, a cat that I had borrowed. I did
not mean to leave her there for any length of
time, of course, or that she should be in danger.
The man had instructions to wait until the boats
were in sight before he left her; and he was
to run over to Wood Island until the boats
went by, and then go back and take her off
again. I had an object in view which I thought
warranted me in subjecting her to so much of
anxiety. I knew that the boats, in sailing the


736






FOUR SIDES TO A TRIANGLE.


last stretch of the race, would pass in full view
of the rock and must see the cat. And I knew-
and I knew that each of those boys would
know--that if the poor creature were left there
the tide would certainly come up before long
and drown her. My object was to see if any
of the boys would turn aside from the race to
pick her up. I hoped that some one of them
would be humane enough to do so even though
he should thereby seriously damage his pros-
pects in the race. I am glad to tell you, ladies
and gentlemen, that the plan succeeded admir-
ably.
"The captain of one of the boats had the
race practically in his hands. Four of the
boats were well behind him, and he was rapidly
overhauling the only one that was ahead. And
yet, in spite of this, when he saw that none of
the others would do it, he himself stood over to
Highwater Rock and rescued the cat from her
perilous position. I saw the whole race through
a spy-glass from the bishop's cupola, as plainly
as if I myself had been in the boat. It was


a noble act. 1 honor and praise that young
gentleman for it. And in the name of the society,
which in some sense I represent, I thank him
for it, and beg him to accept this watch as a
tribute to his real manliness of character. Will
Master Philip Carr please come to the plat-
form ?"
Then Phil, confused and blushing, went for-
ward, and presently found himself, cat and all,
standing before the audience while a perfect
storm of applause burst upon him from the
hundred true friends of his that were present.
Everybody liked Phil Carr; but they liked him
that day as they had never liked him before.
And when he received his new gold watch
everybody was as glad and happy over it as he
was himself.
"Ah, Phil!" said the bishop's daughter as
she-took his hand to congratulate him, "this is.
better than beating the Flash, is it not ? "
"Yes, indeed!" cried Phil. And then he
added confidentially, But I mean to beat the
Flash yet, Miss Maitland."


~p,- ~i

/r







$ &


By Margaret Joknson .


WHEN the midsummer wanes and the fields are loud
With pipe of crickets, and bees a-boom;
When the blackberries ripen along the hedge,
And the grass is brown at the thicket's edge,
When the rose that reigned by the roadside gray
Has flung her crown to the winds away,-
He comes, to rule with a lordlier sway,
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume.

The dust rolls up in a curling cloud;
He recks not the mimic white simoom.
He laughs in his scorn of the passers-by,
Who, trudging, scan with a vacant eye
His shape superb, in its splendor drest,
The sunbeams gilding his radiant crest,
And the fire of youth in his royal breast,
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume.

The burdocks under his feet are bowed,
They crouch and cower to yield him room.
He turns from the reaching venturous vine,
The daisies that dim in his shadow shine.
He nods with an arrogant, easy grace
To the breeze that timidly fans his face.
He is lord of the realm for a little space,
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume.

The thistle he woos,- she is flushed and proud,
As she leans to her lord in the fragrant gloom.
His heart is haughty, his hopes are bold,
The blood in his veins is a wine of gold.
He lifts his face to the cloudless sky,
And the summer wanes, and the days flit by,
And he scarce remembers that he must die!
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume.






PRINCE ELECAMPANE OF THE GOLDEN PLUME.

The asters shine in a starry crowd,
The goldenrod breaks to her perfect bloom,
And the sumach marshals his banners red,
And crowns her queen in the prince's stead.
He feels, astonished, his strength decline,
He fails, he droops, by the blackberry vine,
And cold in his veins is the ebbing wine,
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume.

The spiders spin him a silvery shroud,
The bees go buzzing abroad his doom.
He trails in the dust his shriveling crest,
And the faithless thistle laughs with the rest.
His reign is over, his splendor is spent;
He yields up his life and his crown, content,
And the loyal breezes alone lament
Prince Elecampane of the Golden Plume!


THE STATUE.

By TUDOR JENKS.


A TRAVELER came to a certain great city, and
as he entered through one of its wide gates a
passer-by spoke to him.
Welcome, sir," said the citizen. I saw by
your dress that you were a stranger and make
bold to accost you."


Your welcome is most courteous," answered
the traveler, and I thank you for it."
You must not fail to see the statue in our
market-place," said the citizen. "We take
great pride in it, and for my part I consider
myself fortunate in being one of the community






THE STATUE.


that owns so fine a work of art and so grand a
memorial."
"I shall certainly take pains to see it," an-
swered the traveler, bowing to the citizen as he
passed on.
So when the traveler had made his way into
the city he paused for a moment, wondering in
which direction the market-place lay. As he
stood in doubt, another citizen presented him-
self, hat in hand.
You seem unfamiliar with our city," said the
new-comer, politely. If you are seeking the
market-place I can easily direct you to it."
': You are right in your supposition," said the
traveler.
Naturally," said the citizen, smiling. All
the world comes to see our great statue; and I
have pointed out the way to many. It would
be strange if I did not know it, for it was I who
proposed the setting up of the statue in the
market-place. I am fortunate enough to be
one of the town council."
My respects to you," said the traveler, salut-
ing him.
Follow this straight course," said the coun-
cilman, pointing, "and ask again when you
come to the open park."
Bidding the citizen good-day, the traveler pro-
ceeded upon his way; nor did he pause until he
had come to the park. Then, as he had been
instructed to do, he made further inquiry at the
door of a little shop.
Yes, indeed, I can tell you," said the woman
who came to the door, for it was my husband
who designed the pedestal for it. John! an-
other stranger to see the statue."
In a moment," said her husband, from the
back of the shop. How do you do, sir ? he
asked, as he greeted the traveler. Your face
seems to me a familiar one. Where have I seen
you? Never been here before? Ah, I must
have been mistaken. A chance resemblance,
no doubt! Turn to the right, and follow this
wall, and you will soon reach the statue, for
which I designed the pedestal, as the good
people of this town will tell you."
The traveler withdrew, and walked leisurely
along by the wall. At the first corner he met a
workingman who was carving a bit of stonework
on a fence-post.


A stranger, sir ? inquired the workman, as
the traveler approached. "To see the statue,
no doubt ?"
Yes," said the traveler.
"A good bit of work, and well worth your
time. Many 's the long day I have worked over
it. I carved the block, and never did a better
bit of work! Turn to the left but, wait
Here is a man who can show you the way.
Henry! "
As he spoke a man who was driving a heavy
wagon drew up near the sidewalk.
"Can you show this gentleman the way to
the statue ? "
Can I ? when you know well enough that
I drew the statue to its place with this very horse
and wagon. Come, my friend, follow me. Or,
better still, get up on my wagon and I '11 take
you there. You 're a lighter load than that bit
of hewed stone, I warrant you "
So the traveler mounted upon the wagon, and
was soon at the market-place, and stood before
the statue itself.
As he gazed up at it, another citizen ad-
dressed him:
Admiring the statue, eh ? Well, it's a noble
bit of art, and a credit to the place. Every
stranger says so."
"It seems well done and well kept," replied
the traveler, quietly.
"Well kept? To be sure it is well kept!
Would the council of the town have me here
if I did n't attend to my duty? Perhaps you
don't know that I 'm the custodian of this
work of art? No? Well, I am. Yes, you
see before you the statue-keeper. It's a great
responsibility; but there, there!- the towns-
people don't complain, so I suppose my work
is not so badly done."
"Who is it ? asked the traveler.
Oh, I never thought to ask," said the man,
unconcernedly. Maybe I 've heard the name;
no doubt I have. But I 've forgotten it long
since."
The traveler thanked the fellow and gave
him a silver coin. Then he departed from out
the city. But as he went through the gate in
the city wall, there was a boy playing marbles
near by, for now the school-hours were over.
And as the traveler passed him, the boy looked






THE STATUE.


to see whose shadow fell upon the wall; and
then the boy sprang to his feet, and said:
See! see! There is the man whose statue
stands in the market-place "
And so it was; but none else in the city knew
anything beyond their stone image of the
man.


You were asleep and dreaming in the sun !"
the people said, when the boy told his story.
And as the traveler never came again, even the
boy himself began as he grew older to think it
was a dream, so real seemed the statue com-
pared to his faint memory of the great one in
whose honor it stood aloft.


A HINT.

By ANNA M. PRATT.


IF you should frown and I should frown
While walking out together,
The happy folk about the town
Would say, The clouds are settling down,
In spite of pleasant weather."


If you should smile and I should smile
While walking out together,
Sad folk would say, Such looks beguile
The weariness of many a mile,
In dark and dreary weather."


JINGLE.


THE boys and girls have gone to bed; the moon shines on the sea;
A band of merry sandpipers are going out to tea.
"We shall be late!" the youngest cry, in something of a flurry.
" Oh, take your time," the elders say, there really is no hurry!"






THE STATUE.


to see whose shadow fell upon the wall; and
then the boy sprang to his feet, and said:
See! see! There is the man whose statue
stands in the market-place "
And so it was; but none else in the city knew
anything beyond their stone image of the
man.


You were asleep and dreaming in the sun !"
the people said, when the boy told his story.
And as the traveler never came again, even the
boy himself began as he grew older to think it
was a dream, so real seemed the statue com-
pared to his faint memory of the great one in
whose honor it stood aloft.


A HINT.

By ANNA M. PRATT.


IF you should frown and I should frown
While walking out together,
The happy folk about the town
Would say, The clouds are settling down,
In spite of pleasant weather."


If you should smile and I should smile
While walking out together,
Sad folk would say, Such looks beguile
The weariness of many a mile,
In dark and dreary weather."


JINGLE.


THE boys and girls have gone to bed; the moon shines on the sea;
A band of merry sandpipers are going out to tea.
"We shall be late!" the youngest cry, in something of a flurry.
" Oh, take your time," the elders say, there really is no hurry!"












THE CROWNED CHILDREN OF EUROPE.

By CHARLES K. BACKUS.


THE crowns of three of the hereditary king-
doms of Europe are now worn by children.
The oldest in length of reign and youngest in
years is Alphonso XIII. of Spain. He has been a
king from the day of his birth, May I7, i886,
his father, Alfonso XII., having died a few
months before.
As the youngest child of Alphonso XII.
was a boy, under the laws of Spain which de-
clare that the royal title shall descend in the
male line whenever that is possible he became
king at once, taking rank above his sisters, the
first-born of whom then ceased to be Queen of
Spain and became only Princess of the Asturias.
The short life of this titled boy has been less
happy than that of many of his little subjects, for
his health has not been good, and he has passed
through some severe illnesses, which have left
him a frail rather than robust child. He has
recovered from his illnesses without serious
results, and is now a knowing and attractive
little boy, who loves play and delights in mis-
chief, even though he does live in a palace and
is surrounded with all the ceremony of a court.
As many amusing stories are told of his
bright sayings and comical acts as are told of
wonderful babies of less prominent families.
One anecdote relates to his first attendance
at chapel. Great pains had been taken to
make him understand that he must sit very
still during the service, and especially must not
say a word. He listened eagerly and in silence
to the organ, but when the priest commenced
to speak the small monarch called out, Stop!
you must not talk in chapel."
His pictures are common in Europe, and all
of them are pleasing. In one he is in the chair of
state. On a footstool, before him, are his two
sisters, and at his right hand sits his mother.
Standing before him, in a rich uniform, is one of
the high officers of Spain, who is reading a long
address to his sovereign as solemnly as if he were


in the presence of a monarch of ripe years. Not
only do the baby eyes stare in surprise at this
interruption of fun and frolic, but the mouth also
is wide open, while one tiny hand clutches with
all its puny strength the fingers of his faithful
Andalusiari nurse, who stands in waiting behind
the monarch's chair of state.


M

_-t


ALPHONSO XIII., KING OF SPAIN, AND THE QUEEN REGENT.
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY FERNANDO DEBAS, MADRID.)
The Spaniards are both an unruly and a chiv-
alric people. Within twenty-five years they have






THE CROWNED CHILDREN OF EUROPE.


changed their government several times. They
drove out Queen Isabella, the grandmother of
Alphonso XIII. An indirect result of their
effort to choose her successor was the terrible
war in 1870 between France and Germany.
One of their temporary rulers, Marshal Prim,
was assassinated. They would not submit to
the sway of the Italian Prince, Amadeus, and he
finally abdicated the throne. A strong party
among them now prefer a republic, and hope to
see it established. But all classes have been
touched by the innocence and lovableness of
the little fellow who is their ruler in name, and
the Baby King at present gives real strength
to the throne. He is greatly liked by his peo-
ple, and his daily appearance in Madrid with
his sisters, in his little carriage drawn by four
fine mules, always calls out universal expres-
sions of affection. It is especially fortunate that
his mother is a woman of good sense, high
character, and an exceedingly kind heart. She
was an Archduchess of Austria and is now
Queen Maria Christina, reigning as regent
until her son reaches the age of sixteen years.
She has greatly endeared herself to the people
of her adopted country by her wisdom and her
benevolence. Lately, the eloquent leader of the
Spanish republicans, Sefior Castelar, explained
the quiet condition of his party by saying: One
cannot make war upon a baby and a woman "

Servia is a new European monarchy. It
was for many years one of the small principali-
ties situated on the lower Danube, and bounded
by Turkey, Austria, and Russia. Its security
was constantly in peril through quarrels with its
neighbors because of the rival ambitions of
those powers. Finally, in I882, it was made
an independent kingdom, each of the nations
who were eager to absorb it consenting to its
independence with the view of preventing
the territory from falling into the hands of
the others. The family of Obrenovich had
long been Princes of Servia, and its head be-
came the first king, under the title of Milan I.
He had married Natalie, the daughter of a Rus-
sian colonel named de Kechko, and to them
there was born on August 14, 1876, their only
child, a son named Alexander.
King Milan and his wife did not live happily


together; and Queen Natalie has been accused
by many of the folly of letting her Russian
patriotism outweigh her prudence, and of lend-
ing herself to plots and intrigues which aimed at
I


A- .A.A.. 1., -1t -t --Vi.
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY ADtLE, VIENNA.)
bringing Servia in greater or less degree under
the control of her own country. The result
was a long and bitter quarrel, of which the end
was their separation and the expulsion of Queen
Natalie from Servia. King Milan I. finally ab-
dicated his throne and his son became King of
Servia on March 17, 1889, under the title of
Alexander I., while still in his thirteenth year.
The actual government is in the hands of a
" Council of Regency," composed of three ot
the most experienced statesmen and soldiers
of the country; and Alexander is yet in care of
his tutors, and he rarely sees either of his pa-





THE CROWNED CHILDREN OF EUROPE.


rents, neither of whom lives at Belgrade, the
capital. His real authority is as yet but slight.
He is an attractive youth, speaks French and
German, as well as the Servian dialect, and is
reported to be intelligent, well-disposed, and
manly. His reign has thus far been peaceful
and prosperous, for the men who govern in his
name have shown themselves to be both saga-
cious and patriotic.

Wilhelmina, Queen of the Netherlands, was
born at The Hague on August 31, 1880, and
received the full name of Wilhelmina Helena
Pauline Marie. The monarchy of the Nether-
ands includes not only Holland but its colonial
dependencies in South America and the East and
West Indies. These colonies are both rich and
extensive, covering an area of 800,000 square
miles and containing a population of more than
27,000,000, six times that of Holland itself!
The youthful Dutch queen is the daughter
of William III., who died on November 23,
1890, and of Emma Adelaide Wilhelmina,
Princess of Waldeck-Pyrmont. Her father was
the last descendant in the direct line of one of
the most famous families of Europe, the house
of Orange-Nassau, which has given to history
three splendid figures: William the Silent, the
first Stadtholder of the Dutch republic; his son
Maurice; and William III., who became also
King of England.
From her early childhood Princess Wilhel-
mina has been trained to prepare her for her
royal duties. She has been carefully educated
under an English governess, having been re-
quired to master the English and French lan-
guages as well as the Dutch, and great attention
has been given to her diet, exercise, and all that
could contribute to her health. She has also
received the constant supervision of her mother,
a woman of amiable character and excellent
judgment, who is greatly and deservedly be-
loved in Holland, and who acts as queen
regent during her daughter's minority. As
princess, Wilhelmina is dressed plainly, wear-
ing simple white gowns, and having as her only
ornament a turquoise or pearl necklace.
She will not take up the full duties of queen


for six or seven years to come, and probably
there will be no great change in her habits and
privileges in the interval.
The people of Holland have welcomed her
to the throne with feelings of tender pride and
interest akin to those with which more than
half a century ago Great Britain greeted the
accession of their "Bonny English Rose," the
Princess Victoria, then a girl still in her teens.










.i



S I


QUEEN WILHELMINA OF HOLLAND.
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY KAMEKE, THE HAGUE, NETHERLANDS.)
That Queen Wilhelmina has already won the
love of the Dutch has been shown by the fact
that even during her father's life her birthday,
although not a regular ftle, was usually cele-
brated with public rejoicings by the people.


744











THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


By J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


[Begun in the November number.]
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
MAKING ENEMIES.
TOBY had plenty of time to talk the business
over with Burke, and give him further instruc-
tions, before sending him to meet the afternoon
train.
The boy played his part well, but he brought
only one passenger; a disappointment to Toby,
who had hoped the success of the forenoon might
be repeated. He was consoled, however, when
told that there were but two fares for the bus.
He was beginning to regard the traveling pub-
lic exclusively as so many fares."
He now found a use for one of his omnibus
tickets. His passenger was going to spend a
day or two at the Springs, and would not risk
paying a return fare by the boat, owing to the un-
certainty of the weather. But he was willing to
take a ticket which, Toby told him, would be
good for either the boat or the bus.
Then there was the party Toby had engaged
to bring back from the Springs for the four-
o'clock train. He himself went with his one
passenger, and returned with the five. Burke,
who was left to do some work at the wharf.
let the Whitehall boat in Toby's absence to
two young fellows going a-fishing. A very sat-
isfactory business for one day.
In the evening there was a wind that rendered
the lake rough for rowboats. But Toby went
out with Mr. Allerton in the "Swallow," and
learned to manage it under sail.
The boat behaved beautifully; it sailed close
to the wind, and never missed stays. It was
a delightful lesson. And what interesting things
in the present and future Toby had to talk over
with his friend !
Mr. Allerton warned him against being puffed
up by prosperity.
"Things promise well," said he, "but you
VoL. XVIII.-53. 7


must n't expect to step into a business worth
twenty or twenty-five dollars a week without
meeting with obstacles."
The obstacles were not slow in appearing.
The following week opened with two days of
bad weather, when the lake was very rough.
Then, when business brightened with the bright-
ening skies, Burke reported that the sign on
Mrs. Patterson's fence had been pulled down.
It must be Yellow Jacket's doing Toby
declared resentfully.
But it was worse than that.
Mr. Thomas Tazwell, manager of the omni-
bus line for the railroad of which he was a di-
rector, was likewise the real-estate agent who
had let to Mrs. Patterson the old house oppo-
site the station. She had no lease; and he had
lately sent her word that either she or the sign
must go.
"So what could I do ? she said appealingly
to Toby, when called on for an explanation.
"Pretty small business for Tazwell, I should
think! said Toby indignantly. But he is n't
going to stop my boats that way. I 've more
time now, and I '11 go myself to the depot with
Burke, and we '11 just rope in all the fares we
can."
Then a still worse thing happened. He
had found a great convenience, and no small
profit, in the use of the omnibus company's re-
turn tickets. So what did the company do ?
It issued, in place of the old tickets, paper slips
each stamped with the date and the notice,
Good for this day only." If any omnibus
passengers cared to stay more than one day at
the Springs, they could arrange matters with
the driver. But Toby could not receive these
slips and be sure of using them the same day.
Still, some who went over in the omnibus
were willing to sacrifice their return slips, and
pay full fare in Toby's boats, in order to enjoy
the trip on the lake. And Toby spared no
45





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


efforts in procuring all the "go over" fares
he could. He and Burke were getting used to
the business; generally they were both at the
station to meet the two principal trains; and
in fine weather they gained a full share of the
public patronage.
Then came another device :or', il- ..: oi .ti
company. Through ticket; tr. l-uli.. i,._
were sold at the railroad :,fi-:. r Z-- thi
great center for summer tu!!r:t-. TI-,,..:, .-
course, were good only in the bus. OIn on-t E
casion every passenger arr. nm .t 1e i!!.:II
on his way to Three Spri ng i aire ii,
provided with one of these, rt-il;c-.
Toby was struck with dir:ni..
It seemed for a while tir! h-
must fall back upon the ..
business of letting boats;
that was growing in ..
importance, but it was .' '
not enough to satisfy his ."
awakened energies. :.
Nevertheless, many
passengers still slipped ''' .. '
through the company's :
well spread net. Toby's
business was beginning ,1.
to advertise itself; and
you might now and then
have heard, at summer
resorts, and especially
in the larger hotels at
Z- such remarks as
this:
If you go to Three
Springs, don't put so
much as your nose into
the omnibus at Lakes- -
end, but find the boy
there who takes people acro.: thlie !.,ie in
his boats. It 's worth whilP."
He had his four boats 'i :p:tin.e :r,.:-.,
including the "Swallow," whlch lMr. Ailerron
insisted on his using. Sometimes when the
wind was favorable he put up the sail and took
his "fares" across in fine style. If he could
not return without beating and there was not
time enough for that, he would down sail"
and row.
Over the Whitehall boat he fitted an awning,


which could be stretched in calm weather when
the sun poured down its too fierce rays on the
lake.
His enterprise attracted much attention in the
village. He was pop-
ular with the lim-

hi 1,. l -.
l ..t ., "R


rW
vp


,- i~:~x


. .** i, 'T..1 -


A B-, DAY FOR BUSINESS.
A BAD DAY FOR BUSINESS.


might have heard a great deal of talk about
"that Trafford boy," and the "brave fight"
he was making with fortune and the railroad
company.
He had his enemies also. Some took sides
with the company, called him a cat's-paw, and


746


,..-':.. -^i
k .A-_ _::





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


declared that it was n't-merely a boy they were
fighting, but somebody behind him and back-
ing him.
This "somebody must have meant Mr. Aller-
ton. He certainly had done much to incite and
direct his young friend. But he took no credit
to himself for this. If Toby had not possessed
enterprise, assiduity, and a readiness to take ad-
vantage of circumstances, no "backing" could
have enabled him to succeed.
I proposed something very like it to another
young fellow, who lacks those qualities," said
the schoolmaster. "He would not even look at
it until Tobias had taken it in hand. Now he
treats me as if I had injured him, and he is
Trafford's enemy."
Yellow Jacket might have forgiven Toby for
accepting what he himself had at first declined,
and even have become reconciled to seeing the
boy Burke employed in his place. But the easy
recovery of the gun by Toby and his friend,
after his own futile attempt, and Toby's foolish
sarcasms on the subject had given his vanity
wounds that would not heal. He did not say
much, but sullenly brooded over his fancied
wrongs.
Then, there was the affair of the swallows,
which Tom made the most of in keeping alive
in his companions the bad feelings Toby had
aroused. Aleck the Little did not share Tom's
deep-seated ill will; but he had a malevolent
nature that enjoyed seeing mischief afoot.
As for Butter Ball, he would have forgotten
in a week all the resentment he was capable of
feeling, but for his servile subjection to the in-
fluence of his older companions. He was proud
of being the associate of such fine fellows as
Tom Tazwell and the minister's son, even
though often conscious of being regarded by
them as a mere tool. He had no real hatred
of Toby. But they made him think he had,
and muddled his dull wits with the notion that
to plot revenge was manly.
Toby also gave offense to some by attending
strictly to business and having little to say to
idlers. They called him "stuck-up," and said
they would like to see him "let down a peg."
I regret to say that Bob Brunswick belonged
to this set. To those inclined to be lazy an
example of industry is hateful.


But the enmity of all such would have
amounted to nothing if Tom had not kept it
stirred up and given it direction.
He of course took sides with his father and
the omnibus line against Toby and his boats.
He had fallen into the habit of being out late
nights, when he would meet on familiar terms
associates with whom he would not have been
seen speaking by day. He never missed a
chance of haranguing them on the one excit-
ing topic.
"What right had he to chip in and interfere
with our coaches ? "-which proposition he en-
larged upon, with arguments that would have
held equally good against all competition in busi-
ness. It was just because he got booted out
of our store! And what right has he to block
up the highway with his wharf? "
This question was about as reasonable as the
other. The Trafford place did not extend to
the water; and Toby had found it convenient to
put his wharf at the foot of the street. But it
was a small affair, with only one end resting on
the shore; and nobody hitherto had thought of
its obstructing the thoroughfare.
Anybody has a right to tear that thing away
or bum it up; and that is just what '11 happen to
it some time, if he 's not careful!" blustered Tom,
firing the hearts of his partizans against the al-
leged obstruction.
Hints of this opposition reached Toby's ears
from time to time. But he paid no heed to it
until it became necessary that his wharf should
be rebuilt and enlarged. Then came the crisis.

CHAPTER XXXIX.
"I 'LL TAKE THE RISK."
IN August, summer travel was at its height;
and to secure his share of it Toby met the de-
vice of the company's through tickets with a
project of his own.
In this he had the counsel and assistance of
his best friend. Mr. Allerton visited the princi-
pal hotels of Z- and got permission to put
up printed notices in conspicuous places on the
walls. He also caused to be inserted in the
Tourists' World a modest advertisement, with
editorial paragraphs calling attention to "the
praiseworthy enterprise of young Mr. Trafford,"






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


whose line of boats across the loveliest of lakes
"met a long felt want."
Toby perceived at once the good effect of
these announcements. His boats were crowded
in fairweather, and occasionallyhe had to employ
another assistant. To supply at the same time
the demand for boats to let, he ordered a new,
light, cedar boat, to be sent to him by the
boat-builders.
The increase of business rendered necessary
a better and larger wharf. There was no
other place so convenient for it as the foot of
the street; but before making the change he
deemed it prudent to consult the town officers.
The chief magistrate visited the spot with
him, listened to his plans, nodded, and gave an
opinion.
No, Toby; I really don't see the slightest
objection to what you propose. Your structure
won't be in the way of vehicles, unless people
want to drive into the lake, and it seems to me
you '11 leave them plenty of room to do that.
But I suppose you know there 's some feeling
about your having a wharf here at all? "
"That 's why I thought it best to get your
permission," said Toby.
"As for any formal permission, that is some-
thing we have no right to grant. There would
be no legality about it without a vote of the
town, and I 'm not sure but the consent of the
county commissioners would be required; possi-
bly an act of the Legislature."
Not an act of Congress too, I hope," said
Toby, laughing. I had no idea so simple-
looking a thing could be so complicated."
It is simple enough, if you choose to put your
wharf here, and take your chances of its being
allowed to remain. But when you talk of ac-
quiring a right, that 's a different matter. An
established highway does n't belong to individu-
als; it belongs to the town, to the county, to
the whole community. I can say only that
the town authorities will not object."
What if anybody else objects? Toby asked
anxiously.
I 'm not much of a lawyer," the magistrate
replied, "but I don't see what anybody's objec-
tion can amount to, unless a complaint is entered
and your wharf is shown to be a nuisance."
"That 's all I care to know!" exclaimed


Toby. It may not be a legal act for me to
put it here; but once here it will not be a legal
act for Tom, Dick, and Harry to meddle with it."
Tom, Dick, and Harry," said the magistrate,
" will have no more right to injure your property
than they have to destroy mine, if they find my
cart left on the sidewalk. If it is absolutely in
their way, they can move it out of their way,
but they will be liable for any wilful damage
done to it. If I persist in leaving it there, they
can make a complaint."
"That looks like common sense, whether it is
law or not," said Toby.
The law itself is only a sort of cut-and-dried
common sense, as I understand it," said the
town officer, turning to go.
Toby thanked him and said, "I '11 take the
risk. I '11 build a neat wharf here, well out in the
lake, where it will be in nobody's way, but where
other people will find it a convenience, whether
they use it as a boat-landing, or as a platform
to stand on if they come to the lake for water."
And he said to Burke, the carpenter's son:
"Tell your father, as soon as he has a few
minutes to spare I want to see him."
The elder Burke came, listened to Toby's
plan, pronounced it "likely," and, standing in a
boat, measured with an oar the depth of water
off the old wharf. Then he made some fig-
ures on a chip with a bit of red chalk, and gave
an estimate of the cost.
That won't break me! said Toby, gleefully
conscious of accumulating profits. When can
you do it? The season is short; and my new
boat will be here in a day or two."
"To-morrow morning, good and early, I '11
be on hand with a load of lumber and jise"
(carpenter's word forjoists). I '11 have a man
to help me," said the elder Burke, "and we '11
try to squeeze the job into a day."

CHAPTER XL.
THE LAKESIDE LOT.
WHEN Toby went home to tell what he had
done, and to make ready for the afternoon train,
he was amazed to see Mr. Tazwell coming away
from the door.
They could not well avoid a meeting, if
either had wished to do so. Toby was passing






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


by, with head held high and a stern look, when
the merchant accosted him as politely as if
there had never been the slightest unpleasant-
ness between them.
I hope you are well, Toby. How are you
getting on ?"
"I am getting on as well as could be ex-
pected under the circumstances," Toby an-
swered coldly.
I have just been to call on your mother,"
said Tazwell, "to see about the transfer of that
piece of property."
"What piece of property ? Toby asked,
though he knew very well.
"Why, that lake-side lot," said the smiling
Tazwell. You know how she acquired it:
by foreclosing a mortgage I turned over to her.
I promised to make the loss good; and as the
land is n't salable, I am now--and have been
for some little time-ready to take it off her
hands."
Toby knew that, too, very well. Soon
after the collision between him and the perse-
cutors of the swallows on the lot in question,
Tom's father had written Mrs. Trafford a re-
spectful, businesslike note, making the pro-
posal. She was in favor of accepting it at
once; but by the advice of her children she
had delayed sending an answer.
Then Mrs. Tazwell had called, and in speak-
ing-sincerely, no doubt, for she was a sincere
woman-of her husband's desire to act hon-
orably by the widow, she had reminded her of
his offer.
"It is very kind of him," said the widow;
"'and I will think it over."
Which meant that she would once more
consult her children. But now Toby's sus-
picions were fully roused.
He has never made that offer out of mere
good will to you, I am sure," he declared. "I
believe, with Mr. Allerton, that the property on
this lake is going to rise in value within a few
years, and that our lot will be worth more than
it has cost us, if we can afford to keep it. Taz-
well has come to the same conclusion. He
does n't want to help you; what he wants is
the lot."
Mildred would never agree with her brother
when there was a fair opportunity for a disagree-


ment; but now she declared herself to be of the
same opinion.
I should think everything of Mr. Allerton's
judgment," she said, for he seems to be a liv-
ing refutation of the old prejudice that a man
who knows books can know nothing else. I
would wait a while longer."
So the widow had waited; and at last, in his
neat kid gloves, and with his persuasive smile,
Mr. Tazwell himself had come to repeat his
proposition.
I '11 think of it; I '11 see," was all the satis-
faction he could get when he urged her to
name a price for the property. And he had
finally gone out to "waste the sweetness of his
smiles on Toby,"-so said Mildred, who watched
him from the half-open door.
What did my mother say ? Toby asked him,
with hardly concealed disdain.
"That in her ignorance of business she has
done some unwise things; and that now her son
is getting to know more of practical matters than
she does."
Tazwell meant this for flattery, and watched
for its effect on Toby.
That does n't imply that I know very much,"
the boy answered, making a move to enter the
house.
The merchant laid his gloved forefinger on
Toby's arm.
"But you know well that the property lies
dead on her hands; and you must see that it
will be much better for her to get rid of it."
If better for her, how will it be for you ? "
"That's my lookout," said the merchant; I
feel bound to make up for her losses."
In that case," replied Toby, "suppose you
begin with the West Quarry bonds that you
turned over to her at par, and that are now
worth about seventeen cents on the dollar."
The merchant was seldom disconcerted; but
this suggestion, put to him by the boy with a
quiet smile and almost laughing eyes, made him
color to the tips of his ears.
I shall attend to them in good time -all in
good time," he replied, and artfully glided from
that disagreeable topic. "I consider myself
fortunate in being able to fulfil my obligation
regarding the lot, in the first place. Now if a
bonus of one hundred or even two hundred






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


dollars will satisfy your mother, why, I am not
the man to stand dickering about it."
Could n't you make it five hundred? "
Toby put this question ironically, without the
slightest idea that Tazwell would consider it.
"That would be an extravagant price!
Three hundred-or three hundred and fifty-
I am willing to go as high as that, considering
all the trouble your mother has had; but that
is the limit."
Then there 's no use in talking," said Toby.
Once more the merchant stopped him as he
was entering the house.
See here, Toby, if it can be settled at once,
I will give a bonus of five hundred dollars.
Shall I go in with you and talk it over again
with your mother ? "
I 'd rather talk it over with her alone,"
replied Toby, finally breaking away from the
gloved finger and going in.
He kept his emotions well under control
until in the presence of his mother and sister,
when he went into convulsions of laughter.
Over and above what the place has cost
us! Five hundred dollars-and a month ago
we could n't sell it at any price. If it was
anybody but Tazwell, I should say he was
crazy. But Tazwell! Oh!"
"What can it all mean? asked Mildred.
It means that the place has a value which
Tazwell sees and we don't. I can't think of
any peculiarity about it except the old swallow-
tree; and he is n't the man to take any stock in
a curiosity of that sort. I suppose that would
soon be cut down, if he had the place. And
that 's another objection to his having it,"
added Toby.
But five hundred dollars profit! said the
widow. "What are we thinking of, children?
People will say we are the crazy ones!"
Let 's be crazy, then cried Toby hilari-
ously. "I tell you, it 's fine to own some-
thing Tazwell wants so badly that he is willing
to hide his hatred of me and my boats and
come to us in this fawning way!"
But we must n't sacrifice our own interests
in order to spite him," argued the widow.
Oh, no; we won't. You may be sure the
place is worth more than he offers if we could
only find out his secret!"


At all events," said Mildred, let's wait and
see what Mr. Allerton says."
The schoolmaster, who came often in those
days to take tea with the family, came again
that evening; and he was decidedly of the opin-
ion that Mr. Tazwell's apparent generosity
should be examined with great caution.

CHAPTER XLI.
CATS AND CLOVER.
FORTUNATELY, the Traffords were better able
to hold the lot than they had been before Toby
set up his business. That made Toby, for one,
feel vastly independent; he was so sure of
success!
To-morrow," said he, "I '11 have my new
wharf; then in two or three days you '11 see my
new boat in the water. I wonder what Tazwell
will say then ?"
The boat was to cost fifty dollars; he had
saved money enough beyond his expenses to
pay for it, and also for the wharf, which was to
cost thirty dollars. No wonder his head was a
little turned.
The carpenters began driving spiles for the
wharf early the next morning. It was a great
day for Toby.
With feelings of pride and triumph he saw
his plan, which had existed first as an idea in
his own brain, take solid shape and plant its
firm legs in the water.
The wharf was built high enough to make
room for two good-sized boats under it, and
there were rings along each edge for lines. On
one side, a little below the main platform, was
a short, narrow one, that made an easy step
from the wharf and the boats. On the other
side, but nearer the shore, was placed a long,
low box, in which he locked up his oars, row-
locks, sponges, and bailers.
It was a dull day, and perhaps that was the
reason why there were but few passengers for
the Springs-no more than the boy Burke
could ferry over. Toby was not sorry, for he
took great pleasure in helping the carpenters,
and in seeing where every nail was driven.
The work attracted considerable attention,
and friendly people stopped to talk with him
about it; while Lick Stevens and his set passed


750






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


by with evil glances and whisperings among
themselves. When the men gathered their tools
together, late in the afternoon, and went home
to supper, the wharf was practically finished.
Toby, too, went home to his supper, but in
half an hour he was back again, admiring the
structure, and clearing up the litter about it
with rake and broom. His mother and Mil-
dred also came down to look at it and praise it
with some sly pleasantries on the girl's part;
and later in the evening Mr. Allerton appeared.
His approval brimmed the cup of happiness
for Toby, who showed him how easily the two
boats could be run into their stalls under the
platform, and how convenient the step at the side
would be at low water for women and children.
Then the two sat down on the end of the wharf,
and with their legs dangling over the lake had
a good talk.
Mr. Allerton had just returned from a trip to
the city.
"By the way," he said, "how was business
to-day ? "
Rather poor, even for dull weather," replied
Toby. "The omnibus got more than its share."
I ask," said Mr. Allerton, because I found
that those notices we put up in the hotels had
been torn down."
Who did that, do you suppose ? said Toby,
surprised and angry.
"I could n't find out. The clerks claimed to
know nothing about it. Either the railroad
people have used their influence to have them
removed, or somebody has gone in and pulled
them down without any formality."
We can put them up again," said Toby.
"Yes; but will they stay up? What a piti-
ful thing it is that one should have such enemies."
"I 'm independent of 'em; I '11 show them
that before I get through "
I don't like to hear you make so many dec-
larations of independence," replied the school-
master. Nobody is independent of his ene-
mies, or of anybody, or of anything, I might
almost say. We are all links in a chain."
He lifted his hat, patted his hair, and went
on, while they both sat looking out on the star-
less and moonless water:
"There is a curious story naturalists tell,
which will show you what I mean. You


wouldn't imagine, I suppose, that the quality
of English beef, which is so celebrated, could
depend at all upon cats ? "
I can see how cats may depend upon beef;
not how beef can depend upon cats," said
Toby.
"I'll tell you. The favorite food of the
English ox is red clover. To sow clover you
must have the seed. To have the seed the
pollen of the blossoms must be 'mixed,' as
gardeners say; that is, the dust of the anthers
must be lodged upon the stigmas."
I know it is so with cucumber plants," said
Toby. If you grow them under glass, in cold
weather, you have to go around with a little
brush and mix the pollen, or the pickles won't
set. I 've seen gardeners do that. But the best
way is to have a hive of bees where in warm
days they will find their way under the sashes
and mix the pollen for you."
"That is just what field bees do for the red
clover," said Mr. Allerton; though in a differ-
ent way. Now there is a field-mouse that de-
stroys the nests of the bees; where there are
many mice there are few bees, and the clover
suffers in consequence."
"I see!" exclaimed Toby. "The cats, by
killing the mice, give the bees a better chance;
so where there are the most cats there are the
most field bees and the most clover seed."
"The clover makes the beef, and the beef
nourishes the robust Englishman," the master
added. "So he who kills a good mousing cat
strikes a blow at the human brotherhood, and
the keepers of cats are philanthropists. This is
not a fancy picture; nor is it true of English
cats and clover alone. It is more or less true
of life everywhere. We are parts of the uni-
versal network of men and things. So don't
boast of your independence. Your feeblest
enemy may do you a great mischief. I am
sorry you have made enemies, Tobias."
So am I," said Toby; but I can't see that
it is all my fault."
I have helped you a little in getting them,"
replied Mr. Allerton. "We might better have
left that gun at the bottom of the lake; and
what was I thinking of when I gave those swal-
lows to Tom's sister!"-for Bertha had told
Mildred of Tom's anger, and of the tragic fate






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


of the birds. But we must n't sit here any
longer," he said, rising to his feet.
Toby waited to see if he had left everything
"all right." The doctor's boat and the Milly"
were under the wharf where they could be heard
rocking and chafing as the light waves lapsed
lispingly under their sides. The "Swallow" and
the Whitehall were moored outside with lines
made fast to the corner rings of the wharf.
Toby put his broom into the oar-box, which
he locked, then shouldered his rake.
I meant to take care of this litter to-night,"
he said, giving a poke with his foot to the pile
of shavings, chips, and splinters and fragments
of boards and joists which he had gathered up
at the shore end of the wharf. "To-morrow is
Sunday, and it looks like rain."
I am afraid I have hindered you," said the
schoolmaster.
No," replied Toby; I was really too tired
to do anything more this evening, and now it is
too dark. If that rubbish heap gets wet it can
get dry again."
As they turned up Water Street they heard a
rush of footsteps, and saw two or three figures
glide behind a fence and disappear in the
darkness along by the lake shore.
Toby did not think much about this until
after he had parted with the schoolmaster at his
mother's gate. Then he said to himself:
I wish I had taken care of that rubbish;
but it is too late now." And he went in and
went to bed.

CHAPTER XLII.
THE STRANGE LIGHT MILDRED SAW.
FRONTING the street were two bedrooms, sepa-
rated by an entry. One of these was Toby's;
the other, a corner room, one window of which
looked out on the lake, was occupied by Mildred.
She had heard Toby bid the master good-
night at the gate, and had spoken to him as he
passed through the upper entry. Soon after,
she too retired.
She had been an hour or two asleep, when
she was wakened by a strange light, and
started up, wondering what it could be. It
evidently came in through the window that
commanded the lake. The sash was open, but


the blinds were closed, and through the slats
played gleams of flickering light.
She sprang to the window, threw open the
blinds, and looked out on a startling scene.
All the lake shore was lighted up by the red
glare of fire.
She darted across the entry to call her brother.
He was sleeping so soundly after the day's
fatigue and excitement that it was not easy to
rouse him.
She glided into his room, a dim white ghost.
"Toby! Toby She did not speak very
loud, for fear of alarming their mother, who
slept in the room behind her son's. Toby!"
she repeated, coming to his bed and shaking
him.
"What is it ?" he murmured, struggling out
of his deep slumber.
Get up quickly !" she said in a wild whis-
per. Your wharf is burning! "
He was on his feet in a moment, stumbling
across the floor, pulling on his clothes. One
look from the window told him the whole dire
history. The wharf was all a sheet of fire,
sending up flames and smoke, with a dull
crackling roar.
With a cry of dismay, Toby withdrew his
head, which he had thrust far out of the win-
dow, and struggled with his garments, which
it seemed to him never would go on. And his
shoes -where were his shoes? Never nfind
the socks!
Keep watch," he cried to Mildred, who had
returned to her own room, and was hurriedly
dressing by the light of the fire, and see if
you can catch sight of anybody! "
It is too late for that, I am afraid," she
replied. Whoever set it has had time to get
away."
He was rushing through the entry as he
spoke. Down the stairs he ran, with clatter of
feet and clash of doors, less mindful than she
had been of their mother's rest; through the
kitchen, where he seized a pail by the light
that came in broadly from the lake shore; and
out of the house, with loud cries of Fire!
Fire "-cries always so strange and startling in
the middle of the night.
"What is it? Where is it?" asked Mrs.
Trafford, rushing from her own room.





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


Nobody's house," Milly answered; "it is
the wharf. Somebody must have set fire to the
pile of rubbish the carpenters left."
"The wharf!-after all Toby's trouble and
expense exclaimed the widow. Who could
be so cruel ?"
The rubbish had not only been fired, it had
first been scattered over the platform in a way
to insure destruction of
the whole wharf.
A strong breeze
fanned the flames. If
they no longer mounted
so high as when Toby
first saw them from the
window, it was because
most of the light litter
was consumed, and they
had settled down to
steadier work. The dry '
flooring blazed almost
from end to end, holes .
were appearing in it, .
and flaming cinders '
were dropping down
into the water, and into
the boats beneath.
The wind blew off-
shore, but obliquely, and
the flames were raging
most fiercely on the side
upon which was the
low, narrow platform.
On the opposite side,
nearer the shore, the
oar-box was quietly .'--
burning; and there --
Toby began the work
of extinction. "TOBy CAST PA
There was danger of all the boats being de-
stroyed. Two were under the wharf. The two
others, the Swallow" and the Whitehall, were
moored off the end of the platform by bow and
stern lines that held them within a few feet of it.
Of these the "Swallow" was in the position
of greatest peril. Fortunately, the attaching
line burnt off before the boat became ignited,
and allowed it to swing around with the wind
by its bow moorings. The Whitehall had not
yet been reached.


With furious energy Toby cast pailful after
pailful of water on the blazing oar-box and the
wharf. Every splash left broad, black, smoking
streaks where before there were curling tongues
of fire. The box was a charred ruin, but its
contents were saved. The flames, as they were
driven off toward the farther side, revealed gaps
in the flooring; but there was still hope of say-


-- --_.. r-.Sf .^^ -' '- v e sa --. -.; -
ILFUL AFTER PAILFUL OF WATER ON THE WHARF."
ing the foundations of the wharf, and at least
one of the boats that were still under it.
A curious thing happened to the other boat.
It really seemed moved by a sort of dull instinct
to get out of its uncomfortable situation. Its
fastenings had burnt off, and there was an
opportunity of escape. With the wind agitat-
ing and urging it, along by the outer row of
posts it worked its way, and, barely clearing
the Swallow" as it passed, set sail upon the
open lake.


q89..]


753






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


It was already on fire; a sheet of flame shot
up from stem to stern. It was the boat Toby
had bought of the doctor. Before running it
under the wharf that evening, he had laid in it,
the Swallow's mast, with the sail wrapped
around it. Flakes of falling cinders had ignited
rails and thwarts, and the roll of canvas seemed
to unfold into another sail, all of flame, driving


before the wind. The movement was so unex-
pected that Toby, intent on drenching the wharf,
did not notice it until the boat was well off shore.
Then to attempt to save it would have been to
abandon the Milly," which was under the plat-
form and perhaps already on fire. And the
farther side of the flooring, with the timbers
under it, was still in flames.


(To be continued.)


GOOD MEASURE OF LOVE.

BY ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON.

ONE twilight was there when it seemed
New stars beneath young eyelids gleamed;

In vain the warning clock would creep
Anear the hour of beauty-sleep;

In vain the trundle yearned to hold
Far-Eyes and little Heart-of-Gold;

And Love that kisses are the stuff of
At last for once there was enough of,

As though of all Affection's round
The fond climacteric had been found -

Each childish fancy heaping more,
Like spendthrift from a miser store,

Till stopped by hug and stayed by kiss -
The sweet contention ran like this:

" How much do I love you ? (I remember but part
Of the words of the troth of this lover)
"I love you"-he said-" why-I love you-a heart
Brimful and running over.

"I love you a hundred said he with a squeeze;
"A thousand! said she as she nestled;
"A million! he cried in triumphant ease,
While she with the numbers wrestled.

" Aha! I have found it! she shouted, "Aha!"
(The red to the soft cheeks mounting)
" I love you-I love you-I love you, Papa,
Over the last of the counting! "















M


By JULIAN RALPH.


I SUPPOSE every
natural, healthy
Sboy has a keen ap-
r' petite for books and stories
of travel and adventure. I
suppose they all envy such ex-
plorers as Stanley and such hunters as Cum-
ming. The feeling does not end with boyhood,
for I find that if you come to know the most
sedate and busiest men, wrapped up in the affairs
of stores and offices, underneath their gray hairs
you will discover that they often think of how
they would have enjoyed seeing new countries,
hunting wild animals, and fishing in rivers where
great fish are swarming. But I wonder how
many boys ever think of the price such pleasures
cost-I do not mean the cost in money, but
in discomfort, hardship, fatigue, and pain. I
wonder how many grown-up men realize that
they could not possibly endure or go through an
ordinary hunting adventure in a rough country.
It happened that, a year ago, I was asked to
go into the wildest regions I could find in order
to describe the hunting of big game and the
catching of what are called "game fish." I
had always possessed a city boy's fondness for
the country and had enjoyed rural life for at
least a short time every year since the days when
I was at boarding-school. I had fished in the
St. Lawrence, gone bird-shooting in the woods
and mountains near New York, had camped
out half a dozen times, and had even been deer-
hunting in what I thought were wild districts.
Nevertheless, when I sought a true hunter and
told him what I was about to undertake he
looked me all over (though he knew me very
well), and he said:


"I don't believe you can do it."
"Why not ? I asked. I was so astonished.
"Because you can't stand' the racket,'" said he.
There was no need for me to reply that I was
strong, healthy, sound, and with at least ordinary
pluck, fair nerves, and a strong digestive appara-
tus. He knew that as well as I.
I believe that hunters are born, not made,"
said he; "at least, what I mean is that if they
have not roughed it from boyhood there is no
use in their trying to rough it in manhood. You
have no idea what you are thinking of under-
taking. To live the life of men in a rough coun-
try, you must have a body like india-rubber,
without fat or extra flesh, with supple muscles
and hard substance. You must have lungs that
will serve you as long as you call on them-
that is the most important thing of all. You've
got 'sand' enough" (he meant courage and pride
and earnestness by that one word), "but what
good is all the 'sand' in the world if your wind
gives out when you are running away from a
grizzly, or trying to climb a mountain two miles
straight up in air, or when an Indian whom you
could break in two across your knee asks you
to follow him on a dog-trot for ten miles at
a stretch over a rough country ? What would
any one give for your pluck if your breath stops
short, and your muscles relax, and you have to
sit down and rest when everything depends on
your going straight ahead ? "
I could not understand what he meant, any
more than any reader of this who has not tried
what we talked of can understand it; but I was
very enthusiastic and very much in earnest, so
I persisted that he was wrong. The hunter
ended the talk by paying me a very high com-






PLAIN TRUTHS ABOUT HUNTING.


pliment, which I only mention because I did
not deserve it and because it will show how
thoroughly serious he was in his belief that
"not every soft man can endure a hard time,"
as he put it. He found all his talk was to
no purpose, and then he said, Well, all that I
can say is that if any man who can't do it can
do it, you are the man."
One day, nearly two years afterwards, a very
kind friend in Vancouver, British Columbia, de-
clared that, if I would say the word, he would
get me two Indians who would guarantee that I
should kill a mountain goat within three days.
It was a very tempting offer. The mountain
goat and the big horn, or Rocky Mountain
sheep, are rapidly disappearing, and their capture
offers a sport which all hunters covet. In a very
few years from now it will seem a great deal (to
one who loves hunting) to be able to say that
he has killed a mountain goat. But I had
just come from a very rough experience in the
Selkirk mountains, I was sore and tired, and I
had learned what mountain work" means.
I knew that in order to capture the mountain
goat you must hunt down the mountain, that is
to say, you must ascend to the top and work
your way down, as the goats will always run up
when hunted and if you are below them you
will be sure to be left below them. No, thank
you," said I; some other time I will accept
your offer."
In the best hunting districts in British Co-
lumbia, and in all that vast region north of the
settled parts of Canada, the wilderness is mainly
as Nature left it. You travel either along a
"trail" through the woods, or in a canoe on the
rivers and lakes; seven-tenths of your time you
cannot take a horse and do not want one, and
unless you are a "make-believe hunter," like
the rich noblemen of Europe who expect to
have their work done for them and their game
driven before their guns, you must take your
full share of the hardship. By that I mean the
work, the exposure, the fortunes of the chase,
and the discomfort of living where the food is
the simplest; water is often hard to find, a
blanket forms your bed, a few boughs are your
shelter, and cold, heat, insects, duckings, dirt
and sprains come as they will. Any one of a
dozen causes may prevent your making a fire,


and many and many a man has had to walk vio-
lently to and fro a whole night, after an exhaust-
ing day, to keep from freezing to death. But the
contingencies -that is to say, the possibilities
that go hand in hand with roughing it are far
too numerous to set down here. I met a civil-
engineer last summer who started out for a three
months' walk over the Rockies. After a time,
when he was hundreds of miles from any settled
place or house he slipped on a rock beside a
mountain torrent and lost his bacon, his tea, his
knife, and, in fact, all his outfit except a coffee
pot and his gun and ammunition. Think what
a plight that left him in! Another man told
me he started out with a companion to make a
day's journey in the mountains on snowshoes.
The two were within half a mile of one another.
One went through a narrow pass, and in a
few minutes heard a crashing noise and, look-
ing behind, saw that a vast body of snow
had fallen from the side of the mountain, filling
the pass and burying his companion beyond
human help.
But those things one can take into account.
The chances of a boat's upsetting, of a horse's
stumbling, of a gun's bursting, of wettings and
freezing and snow-slides and encounters with
animals-you must take the risk of them cheer-
fully. And let me add that I have often heard
soldiers, explorers, and hunters say that in
the matter of pluck the city boy and man can
oftener be relied upon to show plenty than
country folks can. That is difficult to account
for, but it has often been said, by men who have
tried all sorts of their fellows in emergencies,
that there is more will and moral strength and
a greater store of reserved courage in city-bred
than in country-bred persons. However, there
are occasions when the trials of wild life out of
doors demand some things that the country boy
possesses more often and in greater degree than
most city boys these are wind, strength, and
hardened flesh and muscles.
When I look back upon one terrible climb I
made in the Selkirk mountains it seems to me
beyond belief that any physical exercise should
be so difficult. It amounted to climbing for
hours up a flight of stairs formed of boulders,
no two of which were of a size. They" teetered"
and rolled about and were sometimes too far


756





PLAIN TRUTHS ABOUT HUNTING.


apart, while at other times they were so big that
it took a deal of work and trouble to get over
them at all. And once in a while there would
be one that you would scarcely expect a fly to
climb up, to say nothing of the oozy, greasy bits
of vertical earth up which I had to hoist myself
by the help of twigs, bushes, branches, and
tree-trunks. When I breathed, it was as if there
was only a teaspoonful of air in my lungs, and
the sun shone so hot through the clear, thin air
that I was wet with perspiration. The air was
so clear that objects apparently close at hand
proved to be half an hour away, and the climb-
ing reached on and up until a walk of thirty
miles on level ground was as nothing beside it.
With the loss of breath all the strength in my
body seemed to leave me. Of course I sat down
-forty times. I think I must have sat down
if a mountain lion were after me.
On my return I tried to cross a
glacier a vast frozen river of ice.
It looked dirty and rough and as
if it offered easy walking, but the
dirt proved to be slippery, greasy
mud, and the ice beneath it was
smooth and wet, and there were aw-
ful blue and green cracks all about,
like hungry mouths, big enough h '
to swallow up an entire regiment. '
I fell and slid many times; and '' '
at last, worn out, bruised, wet to -
the skin, and grimed with mud, I
turned and made my way to solid't
earth by crushing the rotten ice be-
neath my heels to get a purchase
for each step. -'
Yet that was only like every other .
adventure in the mountains. On
the forest trail," or path made by
felling trees, any one could travel,
but whatever we wanted to do
forced us to leave the trail, and then
came the hard work, the slipping,
the climbing, the slow fighting through bushes
and thorns, the missteps and falls, the awful tax
upon one's lungs. Creeping vines caught our
feet and threw us heavily, rotten tree-trunks
broke beneath us, muddy places swallowed up
a too venturesome leg now and then, twigs tore
our hats off-sometimes these happenings were


constant so long as we traveled; and this was
whenever we hunted or fished or went even a
few steps away from the trail on any errand
whatsoever. When snow deeply covers such
a country, as it did where I once hunted the
moose in Ontario, all the roughness of wilder-
ness travel is increased tenfold. It was humili-
ating and vexing to have to ask the long-legged,
quick-footed Indians to halt every now and then,
but I had to do it to get my breath.
I found a new way to tax my lungs last sum-
mer. It came in the course of paddling up a
swift stream in a birchbark canoe. The straight-
forward paddling was tiresome enough, but it
was not all straightforward. Here and there
the river bottom would sink and the water would
roar over rocks in its bed. At such places
the Indians would take advantage of the "set

6 ,


'1.
A-


'k SAI"


W II
,. -.- _. -, ', I.i


NG VINES CAUGHT OUR FEET AND THREW US HEAVILY."

back" and we would glide along a little way
without work, but there was always one point,
of course, where we must force the boat against
the full, strong, swift current. Ah, then came
tug-of-war! We would fight the current with
strong, vicious stabs of our paddles, full sixty to
the minute. The perspiration would flow, the






758 PLAIN TRUTHS ABOUT HUNTING. [AUG.
breath would grow short, the muscles would endurable. These were mosquitoes and black-
tighten, and the boat would stand as still as if flies. They bit us as a Gatling-gun shoots or
as grains of pepper shake out
of a castor. In half an hour
I was red hot, smarting all over,
covered with lumps, itching as
\ if I had been rubbed with poison-
S- ivy. And yet I wore a calico
S- bag over my head with a little
Sillapron on it to cover my neck,
S my face was smeared with
,... pennyroyal, tar, and grease,
Sand I sat in the smoke of a
: ',, "smudge" or fire covered with
'j grass and green leaves. It was
-. \ .i -. nearly night and we put up a
"'1, -d tent and filled it with smoke,
\ then closed it tight and passed
S '.' the flame of a candle all over the
Canvas walls to burn up the
.__ mosquitoes and flies that were
-"- resting there. We slept well
Sand next morning essayed to
fish. It was of no use. The
-- insects almost drove us wild.
.- .- There was no reason why we


ONLY OUT OF BREATH.
it were pinned between rocks. There was no
time to think, no breath to speak with noth-
ing to do but to fight with desperation. Jab,
jab, jab with the paddles we went, like men
fighting for life, one minute, two minutes, four
minutes, then--ah! the boat shot ahead, and
we fell back in our places, limp, breathless,
spent, sore, fagged out.
We fought that stream all one day and for
worse than nothing. When we got to the best
fishing ground it looked precisely as if it was
snowing. Billions of tiny white moths filled
the air above the river, and were driven along
before the breeze, hurrying forward, yet stead-
ily sinking to cover the river as with snow.
They were trout-flies, and were in such numbers
as you never saw anything but sand grains or
snowflakes. Yet in that same air were other
things, unseen until we landed, that proved so
frightful and vicious as to render life itself un-


MOSQUITOES AND BLACK-FLIES.
should endure the torture. We packed up our
things and started back to the frontier, chased
out of the forest by these winged imps. We
saw some Indians "packing" freight over a


41





PLAIN TRUTHS ABOUT HUNTING.


" portage" or neck of land between the river
and a lake. Wondering how they could stand
the pests, we paddled over to see them. They
were in misery. Their faces and hands were
swollen and their necks were raw and bleeding.
We gave them our next to worthless bottle of
" mosquito frightener," and their gratitude well
repaid us.
But these are only incidents. Whoever tries
roughing it must sleep out of doors; must ex-
pect to spend days of idleness in wretched habi-
tations if there is crust on the snow or some other
interference with hunting; must fare only on
bacon and flapjacks and tea, without complain-
ing; must endure heat, rain, sleet, bitter cold,
thunder-storms and loneliness; must climb and
toil; must carry a gun and a pack of food which













T uS&W b


'i n I





I think I 3ee why pec


a ways say:


"Te funny little fell


drag like lead; must work as no laborer ever
had to work; must walk interminable distances;
must be up by daybreak at the latest, and so
on, through all the long category of the danger-
ous, disagreeable, and uncomfortable things that
go to make up such a life.
The bright side of the subject you have all
read. It is not exaggerated. When you come
upon your game you forget all it has cost. When
a four-pound trout is on your hook every fiber
of your body thrills with pleasure. When you
break a routine of bacon and flour with your
first venison, or your first trout, you enjoy that
meal as few kings ever enjoyed theirs. But it
is not all fun; it is not a sixth part of it fun.
And it is well to remember that it is not every-
body who can stand it.


picture of my5elf-






































queer little boy in he month of June,



Sung a swing for himself from Ihe poinls of the moon,


Se sung and swung fill the 'tnoon grew round,


k hern he rope slipped off, and he fell Io Ihe ground.












A/, 1


r Y


~











THE TORPEDO-STATION AT NEWPORT.


By JOHN OSBORNE.


WHAT a wonder-land for warlike imaginings
is that little island in Newport Harbor called the
"Torpedo Station." On it are but a few insig-
nificant buildings; but in them is made nearly
all the gun-cotton used in the United States
navy.
Gun-cotton! It seems a peaceful name for a
terrible explosive. How innocent it appears,
done up in little round cakes. And yet that
peaceful looking cotton is ready at the touch of
the electric spark, or the slightest blow of a ham-
mer, to rend great rocks or masses of metal that
would resist three times the weight in powder.
Near the long, low buildings in which gun-
cotton is manufactured, but separated from
them by the massive walls of an old-time forti-
fication, is the machine-shop of the station.
Above the shop are lecture-rooms, and storage
places for the various kinds of torpedoes used in
the past. The specimens run from a model of
David Bushnell's original torpedo, designed to
blow up a British man-of-war in the Revolution,
down to the types used in the great rebellion;
and there are even working models of the kinds
which will probably be used in the future wars
of our country, should there be need of them.
In the large and well lighted lecture-room,
those officers of our navy who are selected to
"study up this subject and become experts in
handling these dangerous implements of war,
frequently gather for instruction. Here they see
not only plans and charts, but the real models
themselves. The various methods of anchor-
ing, buoying, floating, towing, or propelling tor-
pedoes are carefully explained to them here.
They learn also what substances make up the
many deadly explosives used, and are taught to
handle the wires, batteries, and other means of
exploding them.
In the broad, beautiful bay, whereon the sun-
light shimmers beneath the station windows, the
classes lay mines and countermines, or send
VOL. XVIII.-54.


the swift movable torpedoes tearing through the
water in search of an imaginary enemy.
In the center aisle of the lecture-room, and
hanging from the ceiling, are short portions of
booms or spars bearing torpedoes on their ends.
They are all large, ponderous, and black, and
point down at you in so realistic a way that
one looks anxiously about, fearing that a few
may have caps on and be loaded. Some are
round, some are cylindrical, others are oval;
some are like great conical cans, others yet
are pear-shaped.
On the floor, to the left, is a "mushroom
torpedo," made to lie at the bottom of a bay,
where a ship must pass over it. Beyond it is
one shaped just like a great sunfish, with a tail-
like rudder, and attachments known as side
elevators, looking like fins. This is made to be
towed by a chain fastened to a ring in what may
be called its nose; and upon little rods sticking
from its snout are caps, the touching of which
means destruction.
On the right of the room is a reel on which
is wound a long line. The line is to tow and
direct the queer-looking towing-torpedo just
beyond it, with the iron handle upturned. Next
to this lies a "union," an arrangement from which
a number of wires can diverge to a like number
of torpedoes. The torpedoes can then be set off
"in battery" or separately.
The long, white, pointed torpedoes are more
modern, and are known as Fish," Log,"
and Whitehead." Some of these are propelled
by electric engines in the torpedo, connected
to the shore by a wire which is paid out. Some
of the torpedo engines work by soda-gas. In
another sort, the machinery is kept in motion
by a wire which -is continually pulled from the
coil in the torpedo by those on shore. The coil
being thus revolved turns the machinery of the
torpedo, so the harder you pull the faster it goes
from you. Yet another is propelled by a heavy





THE TORPEDO-STATION AT NEWPORT.


iron wheel, which, revolving at wonderful speed, whole purpose of each
is set spinning in the hollow torpedo shell, stealthy, obedient, and,
and by gear-wheels operates the propeller. This action.


device is to be quiet,
above all, effective in


STORAGE-ROOM FOR TORPEDOES.


fly-wheel runs a long time. Perhaps you have
seen toy locomotives run by the same method.
In fact, surrounding the visitor all kinds and
shapes and sizes of queer-looking objects can
be seen; but they are all torpedoes, and the


The entire collection is wonderfully interest-
ing and instructive, but each of the terrible
machines, although unloaded, has a certain
dangerous air which is likely to give a timid
visitor the creeps."


JINGLE.

By W. S. REED.

Bow your little heads, daisies white, daisies white; Lift your little heads, daisies white, daisies white,
Bow your little heads, purple clover, And open all your eyes, purple clover,
And shut your eyes up tight, for soon it will be For the sun is coming up to cover you with
night light,
The sun sets, and day-time is over. And to tell you that the night-time is over.











THE MERRY OUTLAW, BOB O' LINCOLN.


BY L. E. STOFIEL.


THE merry bobolink is one of the prettiest
song-birds in the country. In Eastern Pennsyl-
vania, along the Delaware, the bobolink is known
as the reed-bird," and is eagerly hunted by
sportsmen.
You must likewise know that the bobolink
has a third name--"rice-bird." That is what
it is called in the Southern States. It is so
named because it attacks the rice-fields and de-
vours the grain. We of the North know little
of the trouble it causes by this especial appetite.
The magnitude of the depredations of the little
bobolink can hardly be appreciated outside of
the narrow belt of rice-fields along the coasts
of a few of the Southern States. In innumer-
able hosts the birds visit the fields at the time
of planting in spring, eating the seed-grain be-
fore the fields are flooded," and then fly back
north into Pennsylvania, New York, and New
England, where they spend the summer. About
the middle of August they commence to migrate
south again, and swoop down upon the rice-
fields once more, just at the time of harvesting
the crop. What rice escaped in the spring now
has little hope of surviving, for as the grain ma-
tures the birds pick it off in the face of the most
desperate opposition.
To prevent total destruction of the crop dur-
ing these invasions, thousands of men and boys,
called bird-minders," are employed by the
rice-planters; hundreds of thousands of pounds
of gunpowder are burned, and millions of birds
killed. Still the number of bobolinks invading
the rice-fields each year seems in no way di-
minished, and the aggregate annual loss they
cause is estimated by Dr. C. Hart Merriman,
Ornithologist of the United States Department
of Agriculture, at $2,000,000.
One of the largest rice-growers in South Car-
olina, Captain W. M. Hazzard, of Annandale,
tells these interesting facts:
My plantation records will show that in the past ten
years the rice-birds come punctually on the night of the


21st of August. All night their chirp can be heard
passing over our summer-house. On the next three
nights millions of these birds make their appearance,
and settle down on our rice-fields. From that time un-
til the 25th of September our every effort is to save the
crop. Men, women, and boys are posted with guns and
ammunition, one to every four or five acres, and shoot daily
an average of about one quart of powder to a gun. This
firing commences at the dawn of day, and is kept up un-
til sunset. During the bird season we employ about
one hundred bird-minders on this plantation, who shoot
from three to five kegs of powder, of twenty-five pounds
each. Add to this the cost of shot and caps, and you
may know at what an enormous expense our fight with
the bobolink is kept up. After all the waste of money,
our loss of rice seldom falls below five bushels per acre,
and through these pests of birds, rice-culture is rendered
a hazardous speculation.
Between spring and late summer, when the
bobolink is at the North, he displays none of


!.i'*


2


p., */, i
I i


THE BOBOLINK.

these ruinous ways of his. He is all beauty
and music. Sometimes he may plunder a corn-
field slightly, but in Pennsylvania he is not
guilty even of that slight offense. He is known
on the farms of the North only as a bird most
showy in his dress of black, white, and yellow
feathers. The song of the bobolink is a pecu-
liar, rapid, jingling, indescribable medley of
sounds, started first by one bird, quickly fol-
lowed by another and another, until the whole
flock are engaged in a grand concert. Then,
suddenly, without any apparent reason, they






THE MERRY OUTLAW, BOB 0' LINCOLN.


all, at the same instant, stop. These delightful
choral concerts endear them to the farmer boys
and girls of Pennsylvania. The "mellow, me-
tallic chink" the birds utter has given them
a name to imitate their song-" bob-o-link."
When the birds mate, the male appears to lose
his vocal powers, and is heard to utter only a
sharp, clinking note, like that of the female.
And when they settle down to plundering a
rice-field, they seem to have lost all their mel-
ody, for then they can only chirp.
Another strange thing about the bobolink is
that he loves the darkness of night. They
only migrate, or travel, at night. They winter
in the West Indies, where they get so fat that


the natives have given them a fourth name-
the "butterbirds."
Now, you know the habits of this masquera-
ding little warbler. On his spring journey from
the West Indies north, he robs the rice-fields of
the Carolinas as they are being planted. Then
he flies from justice to find a refuge in Pennsyl-
vania and the North, where he suddenly puts
on a quaint, coquetting air of sweetness, and
wins the admiration and love of all who come
within the sound of his voice. Then, suddenly,
he takes on an evil mood, clothes it with dark-
ness, and flies back to the rice-fields, where he
spreads desolation all around, and increases the
cost of rice in the cities of the North.


THE SONG OF THE THRUSH.

BY C. P. CRANCH.


" AH, will you, will you," sings the thrush,
Deep in his shady cover,
" Ah, will you, will you live with me,
And be my friend and lover ?

"With woodland scents and sounds all day,
And music we will fill you.
For concerts we will charge no fee.
Ah, will you will you will you ?"

Dear hidden bird, full oft I 've heard
Your pleasant invitation;


And searched for you amid your boughs
With fruitless observation.

Too near and yet too far you seem
For mortals to discover.
You call me, yet I cannot come,-
And am your hopeless lover.

Like all that is too sweet and fair,
I never may come near you.
Your songs fill all the summer air;
I only sit and hear you.


X q-
I .- --. .;._.., -, .. .., .


-. -'", "'- "' "-;-: '" l -- -







LEFT E 1 N G .- P F.-.iL I I' i T. I


- I/Q




.'




" -









VACATION DAYS.
A STORY TOLD BY LETTERS.


By LAURA E. RICHARDS.


S.J


EDITH.


I. FROM EDITH, THE ELDEST.
BYwoOD, MASS., July 2.
DEAREST MAMA: We arrived safely last
night. The little ones were pretty tired after
the long stage-ride, but this morning they are
as bright as buttons, and have gone to pick
wild flowers in the meadow. Cousin Eunice
seemed glad to see us, and is very kind, though
I think perhaps she is not much used to children.


She starts whenever they scream (and you know
Agatha cannot live without screaming!) and asks
whether "the little one is injured." I do hope
they will be good, and I know they mean to be.
Mammy, darling, of course I think of you every
day in the hour, as Phil used to say. It seems
very strange, does n't it ? for us all to be scattered
so, when we have never before been separated.
But we can all be together, as you said, in think-


~;
i*





VACATION DAYS.


ing of Papa and each other. I try to remem-
ber all the things you said, and I do hope I
shall be able to keep the little ones well and
happy. How is our precious Baby ? The moun-
tain air will be so good for him, and for you,
too; you seemed so pale and tired, as I looked
out of the car window. My own Mammy! You
will take the very best care of yourself-won't
you ? You know you promised. Next time I
will tell you all about this lovely place; but
Agatha wants to write now, and I must rule
a piece of paper for her. Always and always,
dearest Mammy,
Your very loving child, EDITH.

II. FROM THE FIVE-YEAR-OLD AGATHA.
DEAR MAMMY: Ther is a cow her, And three
pigs, and one is awl blak and one is awl whit
and one is spotted. They skweel. I can skweel
just lik them, but Cusin Unis dosnt lik it. She
is nis, she gave me gam on my bread. I am
very wel. I hop you are very well. Edith is
wel too. She sais I mustnt do things a good eel


At


III. FROM MAY.
July 3-
DEAR MAMA: Edith and Agatha wrote
yesterday, so it is my turn to-day. This is a
lovely place, and I like it very much, only I
wish you and Baby and Phil were here. Cousin
Unice is funny and kind, and Vesta is funny,
too. Vesta is the girl. I think she must be
about a hundred. She calls me Child of Mor-
tality !" whenever I drop anything or tumble
down. I have n't broken anything yet, but I
fell down stairs yesterday, and dropped my hair-
ribbon down the well this morning. Cousin
Unice thinks I must be weakly, and wants to
give me some kind of medicine that an old
Indian used to make, but Edith told her I
always fell down and dropped things. We
have not been down to the beach yet, but Edith
is going to take us soon. There is an old yel-
low horse called Buckskin," and Cousin Unice
says I may ride on him sometimes, when he
is not hauling. They say "hauling" here for
everything.
To-morrow is Fourth of July, and we shall
not have any fireworks, but we don't mind
much. I have n't written any poetry yet, dear
Mammy, but I feel as if I should soon. There
are pine trees near the house, and when the
wind blows through them it makes me feel like
poetry. There is a rock on the beach, and an-
other girl and I play it is a camel, and we have



-- '_ -.= _-


"THERE IS A SEE-SAW, TOO."


but I will be good be coz dear Papa is dead. It
is a pity he is dead. Edith sais I must not say
that but I wil be coz it Is a pity. Ther is a see-
saw too. I lik it. So good bi from AGATHA.


fine rides on it, for the grass is thin and short and
pinkish, and the sand does very well for a desert.
Edith is going to lend me her shawl for a caftan,
and then we will have a sand-storm, and we


766





VACATION DAYS.


-may kill the camel to get water out of him,
,but I am not sure yet. Now, good-by dear
Mammy, from MAY.

JV. FROM PHIL, THE BOY OF THE FAMILY.
PUMPKIN HOUSE, MONTANA, July 1o.
DEAR MAMA: I have n't written before,


times; but I kick his shins under the table when-
ever he does it. He does n't make them very
often, now.
There are some woods near the house that
remind me of home, and I walk there often. I
have a tree-toad, and am taming it for May.
I found it on a tree, and it was exactly the


I. ,


St."



- ,.,i a


7'

(.3W-


-Ll
tAst~r Jia


" WE PLAY IT IS A CAMEL.


because I have been looking about me; you
know you have to, when you go to a strange
place. Uncle James had n't any name for the
place, so I call it Pumpkin House, after that
story of the two children who found a big pump-
kin and lived in it, because it is bright yellow.
I mean the house is. Uncle James is out on
the farm all day, and so is Ned, and Aunt Caro-
line is sick. I fought with Ned yesterday because
he said that I was nothing but a tenderfoot.
It was about even, but I think I shall lick him
next time, because I am practising with a bag
of hay in the barn. I hang it from a beam and
punch it. He makes faces at me at table some-


color of the bark. Then I brought it home in
my pocket, and when I took it out it was nearly
white. I put it in my bureau drawer, and when
the girl was putting away my clean clothes, it
jumped out and scared her, and she screamed
like a house afire. She is a stupid girl, any
way; but Aunt Caroline said I must take it out
to the barn, or her nerves would be destroyed.
I have found two or three strange moths one
of them a beauty, only I had to set them with
common pins, for I forgot my butterfly pins. If
you should go to Boston, will you please go to
the shop and get me a box and send it? I
chloroformed them.


U89I.]


.~-------,
'-'-
3;'-






VACATION DAYS.


"THERE ARE SOME WOODS THAT REMIND ME OF HOME, AND I WALK THERE OFTEN."


I must stop now. I hope Baby is all right
again. Your affectionate son,
PHILIP STRONG.
V. FROM EDITH.
BvwooD, July 20.
OWNEST MAMA: First I will say that May
and Agatha are both sitting here beside me, as
good as kittens, shelling peas; and then I will
tell you what a fright we had yesterday about
May. I thought she was with Cousin Eunice
(she was when I left her), and Cousin Eunice
thought she had come to me; but when dinner-


time came, the child was not to be found. Oh!
Mamma dear, you can imagine how I felt. We
hunted the whole house, from garret to cellar!
We ran through the orchard and garden, calling
and shouting. Dear Cousin Eunice was so
kind, and kept thinking of one place and then
another; but there was no sign of May. Aga-
tha thought it was only fun, and kept singing,

She fell
Down the well!
Down the well
She fell! "


768





189i.] VACATION DAYS.

which did n't make me feel any better. Oh,
dear! At last a neighbor came in with some
vegetables, and said he had seen a little girl
with a pink frock running about in the meadow
by the cliffs. Then my heart went down, and
all my strength seemed gone for a moment;
but next minute I thought of you, and then I
flew I could n't call, for my voice seemed
all dried up in my throat; I just looked and
looked, as I ran. I came to the meadow, and
saw the cliffs, and the sea shining so blue and J
calm, and thought-but never mind what I
thought, Mama dear. Just then I saw a spot :
of pink in the grass, quite near the edge of the
cliff. I don't know how I got to it, but I did,
and Mammy there was that child, lying g
down, as comfortable and quiet as if she were
on the sofa at home. And when I came up,
panting and gasping, and dropped on the grass
beside her, she just looked up, with the com- 8
position" look in her great blue eyes, and said:
"There is n't any good rhyme to silver,' is
there, Edith ? "
Well, I could n't do anything but cry. Of
course it was very silly, Mammy darling, and I
knew it all the time, but I suppose it was only g
natural. I could n't speak to tell May of our
fright, and May, of course, did n't know what
was the matter, and thought I had had bad news .
from you; and altogether it was a bad moment.
But it is all right now, Mammy, and you may
be sure it will never happen again, for I shall
hardly let the child go out of my sight. I
suppose she ought to have been punished, but 8
yet-well, she had no idea that she was doing :
wrong, and I remembered dear Papa's "If the
intention is good, never mind the result! so I 3
only explained to her what the danger was, >
and what a terrible fright we were in. Cousin
Eunice talked to her, too, so wisely and sweetly!
We all love her dearly. But old Vesta shook
her head, and said : "Child of Mortality, ye 'd
oughter be spanked and put to bed I and then
gave us apple-turnovers all round, because we
had "had a turn."
Your letter made us all happy next morn- .
ing, and since Baby is well, and you rested and
quiet, everything looks bright. Yes, dear, we
are very happy here! A lovely, lovely place,
flowers, and fields, and fresh air, and berries,


769


5J


,'1

, -





VACATION DAYS.


and the sea, and such great kindness! Only,
of course, I do miss you dreadfully, and there
would be no use in saying I did n't, because
you would know better. Then--there is one
thing more! I fear poor dear Phil is not happy
in Montana. His letters are rather blue, and I
don't think he gets on well with Uncle James's
family. Could he possibly come here, Mammy


VI. FROM MAY.
BYWOOD, July 20.
DEAREST MAMA: I am very sorry they
were frightened about me, but, of course, I
should n't have fallen over the cliffs, so there
was n't really any danger. I wanted to make a
little song about the sea, so I went to look at it
and be near it. I wish I could find a rhyme


"I WANTED TO MAKE A LITTLE SONG ABOUT THE SEA."


dear? Cousin Eunice says she would like to
have him. Tea-time now, so good-by, my own
dearest. Kiss our blessed Baby twenty thousand
times for his and your EDITH.
P. S.- I have finished The Old R6gime in
Canada," and am beginning Pontiac." Oh,
how interesting it all is! Is n't Mr. Parkman
a great historian ? Everything is so clear, and
so thrilling. I want to read all his books.


for "silver," but I can't, except delverr," and
of course that won't do. I wanted to begin
Sailing on a sea of silver,"

but I had to give it up, so I made this instead:

If I had a little boat,
I would sail and I would float
Like a rover proud and free,
All across the silver sea.






VACATION DAYS.


-A 1


. ,'"


*ul -1 r l ir li ii r L l
i r. s .r e I,. i I.l Ie-i L.',I I,








r ,,l ,, A r:,,, an1 i er ni.,.
D .:) .. LtA In k tllat i'. lre tr;, L,.l d.
' I. .i !i [ -.: I r ke t l ird.i ler L. .i t I1









!,, e ri i ri,, : d. ble t,: )' '_lt. h y d h
\\e i, ,J k c.r-,. Il l t!l in.;.rniri,. I B )
r..,.I,- :,. I .-.] klIr, j I r i i B b %i 1 Ei -1 e
h' -: ,_,f ti.- .r ri-ii and : ni !iO.-i li. in it








) ..n I n \\':.0li..].-ltrp_.] ti e 1.tili eL. alfi -l. 11-
a.1,2 little :t er,urln lec .: .- r I' ,'_.. i -I .
It was great fun! I must stop now, so
good-by with love from MAY.


VII. FROM LITTLE AGATHA.
DER MA;MY: May drop Ella into the pig sty,
so we said she should be the pigs' dolly. Was n't
that funny? she had only one leg, and both


I .



II ll I

I),.


l'i

'b;
"D






W.'i~


PHILIP IN THE WINDMILL. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)

her arms was lost and her hed was broke, so
we did n't care, but the pigs tryd to eet her and
I skweeled, so Bob took her out. Bob made
me a cart it is panted red it has too weels
he sais I must be a boocher but I want to be a


~ -;--~~~----

j,
--I--. 1'


~I. '*,';





VACATION DAYS.


tin pan man. He cam her yesty Cusn Unis bort
sum tin pans they are brite and she bort me a
plate with al fib bits on it. So now I will
say good bi. Good bi from AGATHA.

VIII. FROM PHILIP.
August i.
DEAREST MAMA: I hope you will not be
angry when I tell you that I have run away.
I shall not send this till I have nearly got to
Bywood, because I don't want you to be fright-
ened. I could n't stay there any longer. That
Ned was a perfect terror. He said that bats
were birds, and when I said they were n't he said
I lied and I knocked him down and made his
nose bleed and broke one of his front teeth.
(I 'm sorry for that, but it could n't have been
much of a tooth.) So Uncle James said he
would flog me before all the farm hands, and I
would n't stand that, so I ran away. You know
he is n't my real uncle at all, and even if his
first wife was my aunt I don't see what right he
would have to do that. Do you ? I am certain
he had not. When I got a good way from the
farm I hired out to a man to tend windmill. It
was great fun! You have to oil it, and regulate
the speed, and watch the troughs. And just
think! one day I saw Uncle James, and I sup-
pose he was looking for me, so I hid behind
the sail, and he went right by and never saw
me. I caught a gopher, and now he is so tame
he stays in my pocket or sits on my shoulder.
I did it while I was tending the mill. The man
was very kind. In about a week he had to go
to Chicago, on business, and I went with him.
I had all the money you had given me for my
fare back. He gave me-I mean the man did


-quite a sum of money, and his wife gave me
such a lot of nice grub I beg pardon! I
mean food-to take with me, and a note to
some other people on the way (they had a boy
just my age who died, and they wanted to keep
me, but of course I could n't stay), and so I
had a splendid time. I '11 tell you all about my
journey, when I see you again. But at Chicago
I found Uncle Dick just starting for the East,
and he took me with him to New York. The
rest was easy enough, and I shall get to Bywood
some time to-morrow. So good-by, dear Mammy,
with love from PHILIP STRONG.
TELEGRAM.
To Mrs. John Strong, Bethlehem, N. H.
Phil arrived last night. All well and happy.
See letter. EDITH STRONG.

IX. FROM ALL FOUR.
BYWOOD, Aug. 3.
DEAREST DEAR MAMA: Please don't mind!
We are all together, and we are so happy!
Phil looks splendidly well, and Cousin Eunice
is delighted with him. She is writing to you
herself, but this is just a little line from all of
us, to say how glad we are, and how jolly it is,
and how we do hope you won't mind.
--Oh!!! Your letter has just come, saying
that you and Baby will be here in three days.
Oh! Mama, Mama! it seems too good to be
true. We can't write any more, for we must go
and dance the Dance of Delight," which Phil
invented when he got here. Hurrah! hurrah!
hurrah! Kisses and love from EDITH,
PHIL,
MAY,
AGATHA.


772































(A NONSENSE RHYME.)


A MERRY little maiden with a wealth of golden hair
Went out one day a-sailing with a friendly polar-bear.
The maiden spread her handkerchief and made a jolly sail;
The bear sat in the stern, and told an interesting tale.
" Now this," the bear remarked to her, is just what ought to be.
We '11 sail away and sail away until we cross the sea,
And I will be the captain, while you shall be my mate;
I 'm sure a boat like this cannot be hard to navigate."
So on they sailed and sailed away and never knew a care,
This merry little maiden and the friendly polar-bear.

But after many days the wind began to blow a gale,
And all the crew were ordered up aloft to shorten sail.
" Dear me! the merry maiden cried, how miserable I feel! "
" You must not speak," the captain said, "to him wot 's at the wheel.
Now throw the cargo overboard as quickly as you can;
We 've got to lighten ship at once or perish to a man! "
Oh, then the captain looked at her and she looked back at him,
And each remembered, suddenly, that neither one could swim.
They looked to windward, fore and aft; there was no help in sight.
They felt that all their beaming hopes must suffer early blight.
At last the captain, sobbing, said, I might eat you, my dear;
And that would lighten half the weight at once, 't is very clear."
" Excuse me," said the mate, I think the better plan would be
To cut off all your bushy hair and fling it in the sea."
" No sooner said than done," said she, and straight her scissors plied,
And snipped away until the bear had lost his shaggy hide.






774 HOW THE MAIDEN AND THE BEAR SAILED AWAY.











",~~~~ --_ . .. --

'AND STRAIGHT HER SCISSORS PLIED.'

They saved the hair, however, and they made a goodly raft,
Then sailed away and sailed away on that fantastic craft;
And when the captain's temperature without his coat grew low,
He boxed the compass for a while and got in quite a glow.

They studied navigation, and they passed some hours away
In teaching schools of porpoises to tell the time of day,
But made so little headway, since they could not sail nor row,
They begged a whale, that happened by, to take the raft in tow.
But suddenly the whale he dived, and disappeared from view,
And left them floating on the sea, this shipwrecked crew of two.

Then said the bear: The very thing we ought to do just now,
Is to go and furl the mizzen-shrouds and lash them to the bow."
Then they gave the keel a luff or two and brought the jibs about;
They took an observation and sat down to work it out.
That night the captain kept the watch. They had but one, you see,
And he forgot to wind it, so they drifted far to lee;
And when the morning broke they saw the breakers just ahead,


,~',













"TEACHING SCHOOLS OF PORPOISES TO TELL THE TIME OF DAY."
Yet not a solitary spot where they could heave the lead.
They drifted on! they felt a crash! the boat began to sink!
When suddenly the mate remembered she had saved the ink.
She rushed below,- she got the ink,- she poured it on the waves,
And thus alone that hapless crew were saved from watery graves.


~___






.] HOW THE MAIDEN AND THE BEAR SAILED AWAY.
She took a pen and dipped it down into that inky sea;
She wrote a line,-threw it ashore,-'t was caught, and thus you see
They all were drawn quite safe to land, the captain and his crew,
And lo they found they were in France and had to parlez-vous."
Now this," the bear remarked to her, is just what ought to be;
We've sailed away and sailed away until we've crossed the sea."
And they started off to view the land,-this friendly polar-bear
And the merry little maiden, with the wealth of golden hair.








N T I,. v


I'


CHAN OK; A


ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


By J. O. DAVIDSON.


[Begien in the May number.]

CHAPTER VIII.
THE ESCAPE.
NEXT day was bright and beautiful; but
Frank Austin was kept a close prisoner, though
he occasionally caught glimpses of the fleet fol-
lowing in their leader's wake. Twice during
the day they passed heavily laden traders north-
ward bound; but all were allowed to go by
unmolested. Strange behavior for pirates,
Frank thought, as he saw the prizes glide by
without being even hailed.
Toward nightfall land was sighted, and the
fleet hove to in a deep and narrow passage
between two islands. Evidently some impor-
tant work was to be done here; for busy prepa-
rations were made by the crews, and boats


passed from junk to junk carrying the long
grass hawsers which Frank had seen on the
beach while he was at the settlement. After
dark, he saw a line of glimmering lights stretch-
ing over the water on both sides of the chief's
junk, as if the fleet had formed a line of battle.
What could it all mean? No foe was in sight,
and they were still at some distance from the
land. How quiet everything seemed on board!
But for an occasional footfall on the deck above,
Frank would have thought the craft deserted.
His lonely watch and the gentle rolling of the
boat wearied him, and he fell asleep.
How long he slept he did not know. He
was suddenly awakened by the distant sound
of a steamer's whistle. The deep boom of the
deck-gong then sounded above, and was im-
mediately followed by sharp orders from the






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


THE PIRATES CLOSING IN UPON THE FRENCH STEAMER.


officers; then came the surge of the sweeps, and
Frank knew, from the bustle, that the crew
were casting loose the guns.
Can it be the gunboat on their track? "
Frank asked himself, but at once remembered
that the pirates would hardly dare to meet her
in open fight. Again the steamer's whistle
reached him; but now she was much nearer.
One, two, three-four short blasts, followed
by a long one.
"That means 'Clear the track!' Something
is in her way," said Frank to himself.
The thud, thud of the propeller and the rush
of water at the steamer's bows could now be
heard.
Suddenly the shout of a man came clear and
distinct through the night air saying in French:
Port your helm Stop her! Back her! For
your life, be quick! We 're among pirates!"
Then the steamer's bell clanged twice, and
Frank heard the reversing of the engines. He
rushed to the window and looked out. For a
moment all was still; then came a terrific crash,
the sound of rending planks, and the surging of
spray, with a shock that almost threw him off his
feet. The explosion of heavy guns succeeded;
and, by the light of the discharges, Frank saw
N>


the shadowy form of a large iron steamer along-
side, completely surrounded and hemmed in by
the fleet of junks, whose crews he could see
swarming over her sides with weapons in hand.
Darkness, powder, and smoke soon obscured
the scene. No more cannon were fired, but the
confused noise of a struggle reached his ears,
mingled with the reports of firearms, of battle-
cries, and then-savage yells of exultation from
the pirates.
At length he heard the noise of escaping
steam from the captured steamer's safety-valve.
Frank, horror-stricken at the fearful tragedy tak-
ing place so near him, crouched on his prison
floor, fervently hoping that the strangers might
yet manage to escape from their deadly peril.
Suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder, and
a well-known voice hissed in his ear, Quick!
Cap'n Frank, for your life, follow me! "
He turned and beheld the swarthy form of
Kanaka Joe, crouching on the floor, dripping wet,
and with a coil of rope wound about his body.
Silencing Frank's cry of astonishment, Joe
motioned him to one of the stern windows,
from which Frank saw that a bar had been
wrenched. Fastening the rope to a ring-bolt
both slid down by it, Frank going out first,





CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


and dropped into a sampan* hardly distinguish-
able through the smoke of the conflict still rag-
ing fiercely above them.
Stunned and bewildered, Frank stumbled into
a seat, and grasping the oar that was thrust
into his hand commenced rowing with all his
strength. Joe's sinewy back swayed to and fro
before Frank, as he, also, bent to the work. A
few moments' hard pulling, and they left behind
them the smoke of the conflict, and not till then
did Frank notice that Proddy was behind him
rowing, while old Ben Herrick stood astern,
abaft the cuddy, steering.
Give way, my lads, give way cried Ben;
"we 'd better get well clear of this neighbor-
hood as soon as we can! "
Behind lay a confused mass of drifting smoke
in which could vaguely be seen the masts and
spars of the vessels; while the occasional fitful
gleam and dull report of firearms showed that
resistance was still being made to the robbers.
Soon, however, all sounds of conflict ceased, and
everything was dark again.
For two hours more they kept on their way
until exhaustion compelled them to rest.
"We ought to be thankful for our deliver-
ance, Mr. Frank! exclaimed Ben, reverently,
as he extended his honest hand to his com-
mander. I little thought our stay with those
thieves would be so short! "
But, Ben, I did not know you and the boys
were. with the fleet. How did you come to be
with us ? asked Frank eagerly.
"Well, sir, if you '11 let me take a spell at
your oar, I '11 spin you the yarn; and simple
enough it is."
After changing places with Frank, Ben began
his story:
"The day you had me eased of that hard
labor I had nothing to do but to wander around
gathering all the information I could about this
here expedition; and, although I could not un-
derstand much of their lingo, I heard enough to
convince me it was our only chance to get away.
So I consulted with Joe and Proddy, and con-
sequently they were of the same mind. Just
before they started that evening, we slipped into
a boat with some coils of rope and casks that
had been forgotten, chucked the boat-keeper


over, and rowed out to the fleet. We hardly
knew what to do after we got there; but it
would not do to go back, so Joe puts on a bold
face, and picking out the smallest junk he tells
her crew as how the chief had ordered us to
sail in her. It was easy enough to hide our-
selves, after we once got aboard, until they got
to sea; and then it was too late to send us back.
They kicked us about a good deal and made
us work; but they said nothing to the chief


_- --_, .. --



FRANK'S ESCAPE.
about our being there, and that made everything
right so far. You know the rest."
"Why, no, I don't," replied Frank. What
was all this fight for, to-night ? "
"Well, Joe says that he heard the men talk-
ing of a French steamer they expected to lay a
trap for between two islands. I suppose that
must be the steamer they took to-night."
"But how could they stop a powerful steamer
like that ? Why did n't she go around them ? "
Why, you know, Mr. Frank, those steamers
don't turn out for junks. They just blow the
whistle, and then run 'em down. Well, know-


A light skiff, sometimes with a matting roof, usually propelled by a sail, or sculled.
VOL. XVIII.--55.






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


ing that fact, these cunning chaps just fastened
all their fleet together with those big grass haw-
sers we saw them making. The steamer's look-
out mistook us for a sleepy lot of traders,
becalmed.
"At first they were going to sheer out of our
way, but the pirates rowed their junks right
across their bows, an' so she tried the usual
way-running them down.
"When she struck, she smashed the middle
junks to match-sticks. Thunderation how
the timbers flew! But those, you see, were
old, rotten hulks, with no one on board. It
was then these grass cables came into play;
for they held the wrecked junks together, and
the steamer's headway made the rest of them
fall back on both sides of her like a mass of
kelp weed. As soon as they came alongside the
steamer, the pirates chucked a lot of old cordage
and fish-nets under her stern, and fouled the
propeller. But long before that, there were
three hundred or more of the yellow rascals on
her decks, armed with their terrible knives and
the Frenchmen stood no chance whatever!"
Horrible! exclaimed Frank.
"Yes, sir, bad enough; but you see, if Euro-
pean steamers had n't that reckless way of run-
ning down the junks, this thing would not have
happened. It was a clever trick, though, we
must confess."
Before Ben had finished his story, the gray
streaks of dawn appeared, and the sun rose in
splendor over the expanse of blue water. Low
down on the horizon lay the two islands; and
near them, almost under the sun, a few specks
indicated where the pirates' fleet was busy with
its capture.
"Ay, there they are, the thieves! taking
her off to rob at their leisure 1 growled Ben
as he gazed after them.
It 's pretty hard work, this rowing; and
it 's a pity to lose this fine breeze," said Frank,
turning to the mate. Ben, don't you think
we might rig up some sort of a sail? "
Well, we might; but there is nothing on
board but a small bundle of canvas, here in a
locker. We might make out by using our
coats and shirts, and such few things as we
can spare! So saying, Ben went to work and,
with a sailor's ingenuity, soon finished a contri-


vance which all heartily laughed at, but which
nevertheless held the wind, and caused the
boat to run merrily through the water.
"There! said Ben, eying his work aloft
with great satisfaction, "it 's not much of a
craft, with that lug; but I think, as we 're lay-
ing a good course, we 'd better beat all hands
to quarters, and give you the command of the
ship, sir "; and he made a bow as respectful as
if Frank were the captain of a man-of-war, just
going into commission.
"All right, Ben. I shall take command," re-
plied Frank, laughing; and as there are only
four of us, we can all be officers. You can
be lieutenant, Ben; Joe, second-officer; and
Proddy, chief cook. As we 're all hungry, the
chief cook had better get us some breakfast! "
Proddy drew a long face, and announced
that two pounds of rice, a keg of water, and
some salt-fish was all their larder afforded.
We had to steal this boat, and get off dur-
ing the fight, sir; and I 'm afraid we over-
looked the provisions entirely, not thinking of
anything at the time but how to escape," said
Ben, ruefully.
"Well, gentlemen, I suppose we shall have to
go on short rations immediately," said Frank,
with as much cheerfulness as he could com-
mand; "for we have a long journey before
us, and must not waste a grain of rice."
Dividing out their first day's food, they had
just enough left for one day more.

CHAPTER IX.
ON THE SAMPAN.
ALL day long they relieved each other at the
oars, and managed the sail so as to catch every
breath of wind that favored their northward
course. As soon as relieved, each crawled under
the thatched roof of the cuddy and instantly fell
asleep. Those on duty kept a careful watch for
any passing sail, but saw nothing more than the
distant clouds, or the dip of a white gull's wing.
After an anxious night's watching, the second
morning broke as clear, bright, and beautiful as
the preceding, but its very serenity was a source
of anxiety; for without wind or rain their
death was certain before long. Indeed, the last
morsel of food and the last drop of water were






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


consumed that day, and as the evenir
came out starvation stared them in tl
Next day, at noon, Joe contrived to
few little fish that had sheltered these]
der the shade of some floating sea-weed.
they divided and ate raw; but all their
to tempt some sea-birds within reach of
boo pole were unavailing. The long, h(
noon wore away, and still they toiled
oars. They looked for rain, but in vain.
kept watch for a sail; still nothing but
a waste of blue water iir r:ii~:ii\.
floating clouds met thei- e.
Again the sun set in .1-:!lei gi,-r,:
the constellation of the S ..iirh..:rn ro.
blazed out in the heaci .. -.r, irih
cool night winds crept g.-rilil ,:.:r thr-
unruffled water.


The morning of the fo
them too exhausted to t,
so one kept watch while t
into the cuddy to forget


if possible, in sleep.
Little was said as
they relieved each
other on the watch,
for their parched
mouths almost re-
fused to form words,
and as they avoided
one another's desper-
ate eyes, they all felt
the end could not be
long delayed.
The spectacle they
presented was pitiful
indeed. The rude,
patched sail flapped
lazily against the
mast as the old boat


Possibly his long, rough life at sea had rendered
him less sensitive to suffering.
At all events, while his companions dozed, Ben
still watched. The evening's chill settled over
the water. Just as the light was fading from
the sky, Ben struggled to his feet and, steadying
himself against the mast, gazed long and ear-
nestly at a thin, dusky haze stretching along the
horizon.
"Can that be land ?" he huskily muttered,


. . . ~ ;~'. ;,
---
~~-N


'F1-






C;




S i


turned its prow slowly


from point to point, as if seeking some sign
of relief from the stillness around. In the
cuddy lay Frank and Joe, stupefied with hunger
and utterly exhausted, and Proddy sat listlessly
on the thwart. Old Ben, with his gray locks
hanging in tangled masses about his head,
leaned feebly against the mast and gazed with
restless eyes around the horizon.
Strange to say, the old man had withstood
privation better than his younger companions.


BECALMED.
"or is it the smoke of a steamer? I '11 not
wake the boys yet. Disappointment now would
kill them."
He continued to gaze at the hazy cloud as
the darkness closed around. An hour passed:
and though the boat turned slowly about, now
pointing this way, now that, becalmed on the
glassy water, the old man still kept his eye on
that one point where he had seen the dusky
line. Presently his patience was rewarded by
the sight of a faint point of light like a tiny star


"






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


resting on the water; but it was yellower in
color than the stars above.
Thank Heaven!" the old sailor whispered
as he tottered aft. "Ay, sleep away, my lads!
You '11 soon be out of this trouble."
So saying, he softly opened a locker and drew
forth a lot of oakum, rags of canvas, and a few
chips of wood. These he carried forward in a
pannikin, which he fastened in the bows. Then
he produced from his pocket a quaint-looking,
circular Chinese mirror of polished metal, and
carefully rubbed it bright with a bit of flannel.
The distant light was now much nearer, and
another could be seen somewhat lower than
the first. Ay, ay! there's her masthead-light
and her bow-light," exclaimed Ben; and now
I see her red light to port. The starboard green
light is hid yet, so she must be a large steamer.
Hullo! there's her green light now. She 's
changed her course somewhat. She is coming
head on. Guess I 'd better show my glim."
So saying, he touched a match to the mass in
the pan, and it instantly burst into a bright flame.
"Fire, fire! came in husky tones from the
cuddy, as Frank sat up, dazzled by the glare.
Ben touched him on the shoulder and, point-
ing to the distant light, uttered but one word:
"Safe!"
Joe and Proddy, who had now crawled out,
comprehended the situation instantly, and stood
watching eagerly, as Ben, standing behind the
fire, reflected the glare in the little mirror and
flashed its light far out into the darkness toward
the steamer.
Hush!" whispered Joe, leaning over the
boat's side and putting his ear close to the
water. Propeller, Massa Frank. P. and 0.
steamer. Listen! "
Sure enough, before long the thud, thud," of
a propeller wheel came faintly to their ears. At
this the weakened crew attempted a cheer, but
their voices were so faint they produced only a
shrill, feeble cry. So they gave it up and busied
themselves in feeding the fire with such things
as they could lay their hands on. In their
eagerness they even tore off the cuddy thatch
and split up the seats to keep up the fire.
Golly, Massa Frank! exclaimed Proddy,
"we '11 burn up the boat befo' dey gets here "
Never mind, lads; it 's our last chance,"


cried Ben, as he snapped an oar to feed the
flames. "Pile everything on. Hooray, lads!
they see us! Here they come."
In a few minutes the great hull of a large
steamship emerged from the darkness, and she
slowed up within a hundred yards, her many
lights twinkling from her open ports, while
numerous figures could be seen clustered about
the decks.
"Boat ahoy! Do you want any help?"
came in ringing tones over the water.
"Yes! Yes!" cried the castaways all at
once; but their voices were so husky and shrill
that they could hardly have been heard on the
steamer.
Fearing they were to be deserted, Frank
seized a brand from the fire and, waving it


"HELP, HELP!"
above his head in despair, managed to call
out, Help, help !" and then, overcome by the
exertion, fell back into the arms of Ben.
The rattling of blocks and tackle now was
heard from the steamer as the crew sprang to
lower the life-boat, and the officer's orders from
the bridge were audible as he directed the men;
but all other sounds were presently drowned by
the roar of steam from the safety-valve.






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


SAn instant later the stanch life-boat ran along-
side the small craft. It was not a moment too
soon, for the neglected fire had reached the
woodwork of the sampan and she was all ablaze
forward.
The rescued castaways were helped into the
life-boat, and Frank was tenderly laid in the
stern-sheets.
"Quick, men! Shove off! ordered the offi-
cer, for all the bow of the sampan was now in
flames. The sail, too, had caught, and from it
were dropping blazing fragments, which hissed
as they were extinguished in the inky water.
The steamer's side was soon gained, the
tackle hooked on, boat, crew, and all were run
swiftly up to the davits, and the rescued men
were taken into the cabin, where they received
the best attention the steamer could afford.
The rescuing vessel had meanwhile resumed
her headway, and left the blazing craft to fade
into the distance, where the smoke and flame
from her burning hull and mast rose like a
luminous column straight upward into the
darkness, like a warning finger pointing to
the midnight sky.
The kindly care of their rescuers soon restored
the exhausted men to health, and, three days
later, they were landed at Hong Kong.
Immediately on arriving they repaired to
the company's office, where their appearance
created the greatest astonishment, as all believed
that they had perished in some gale.
Frank was ushered into the agent's office,
and to him the young captain recounted his
adventures in detail.
When he had finished, the agent shook him
warmly by the hand, saying that the company
would gladly have paid double the required
money to get him back; but now that they had
been saved so large a ransom (which would
have been a total loss, in addition to the cost of
their junk) by Herrick's and Joe's foresight in
affording Frank the means of escape, he would
amply reward the men for their devotion.
On being called from the outer office the
three came awkwardly in, hats in hand; but
Joe paused a moment at the door, and stepped
on the rich carpet only after much coaxing.
"The lad has n't been used to such fine
footing," Ben explained in apology.


"Well, my lads," said the agent, "I hear
an excellent report from Mr. Austin of your
devotion to him and to the company's interests.
You shall not be unrewarded."
"We did no more than our duty, sir, in get-
ting him out of the clutches of those villains,"
replied Ben, and it was Joe, here, sir, that put
the notion into our heads. He's a fine fellow
is Joe, sir, and Proddy, too,--if he is only a
cook."
At this both Joe and Proddy grinned, looking
very embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"I see you are all modest, and the carpet
seems too hot for Joe, so I won't keep you
waiting," said the agent, laughing. Then ring-
ing a bell, he told the porter to summon all
the employees in the offices. In a moment or
two all the clerks and others were assembled,
wondering what was on hand.
In a few words the agent gave them an
outline of our friends' adventures, and highly
praised them for their faithfulness. Then, turn-
ing to Ben, he said:
Ben Herrick, in this affair you have behaved
with a courage, bravery, and fidelity proverbial
among men of your class, and I take pleasure
in now extending to you, and to your two mess-
mates, Proddy and Joe, the thanks of the com-
pany, and also a more substantial reward."
He then handed to each a considerable sum
in gold, in addition to their regular wages.
Thank ye, sir," replied Ben. Then he added
severely, Proddy, stop your staring, and say
'Thank ye' for your present! "
Joe had already made a low obeisance after
the manner of his people.
All the employees now crowded about to
congratulate them, and Ben, flourishing his hat,
called for Three cheers for the agent, Captain
Austin, and the company!" Three rousing
" Hurrahs! followed, and as all filed out Ben
was heard to say, Proddy, you lubber of a sea-
cook, where were your manners?-you acted
like a fool! "
Golly, Massa Ben," answered the good-
natured fellow, I was done gone a'most crazy
for shuah, when he give me all dis money."
Now, Mr. Austin," said the agent, when
they were alone together, please accept from
me this token of appreciation. I know you are






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


going to say that you lost your ship and cargo,
and do not desire to take any present; but, I
assure you, you have done us a great service in
putting us on the track of the worst pirate in
these seas. This man has caused us such losses
that if we succeed in destroying him we shall
consider this last loss as nothing! "


So saying he drew from his finger a handsome
ring.
Now, sir," continued he, we had better lay
your information before the proper authorities,
so that they may lose no time in starting one
of their swiftest cruisers on the track of these
piratical gentlemen."
continue.)


THE TWINS.


-- I


"How queer it is

So much like


that we should look

one another!


Most people get us all mixed up -

They can't tell me from brother,

And no one 's certain which is which

Excepting only mother!"


Jessie B. McClhle.


"I "



K'
\ ..





~_ -7__ _












THE SWIMMING-HOLE STORIES.


By WALTER STORRS BIGELOW.


V. A HORNETS' NEST.

MY mother had come to spend the month
of September with Charlie's mother, and had
brought my younger brother, Robert. I was
attending school with Charlie, because there
was only a District School in the village where
we lived. But Robert's eyes were not strong,
and the doctor had said that for the present
he must not study. Charlie and I wished that
we could have weak eyes, too. When we were
kept at home by illness, we were generally so
light-headed, or so shaky in the legs, that we
could n't have any fun. But a boy with weak
eyes could play just the same as usual.
One evening soon after the Revolution in
school, mother called us aside just as we were
starting for bed.
"This afternoon," said she, "Charlie heard
some of the boys talking over a plan to frighten
you and Robert to-morrow. He wanted to
warn you without tattling, and asked me to
give you a hint. Then you can look out for
yourselves. Now, I will ask you one question.
Do hornets ever build their nests down near
the water ? You need n't answer, but you may
think about it, and talk it over."
So off we went upstairs, puzzled. Do hor-
nets ever build their nests down near the water ?
What a queer question !
"Last one in bed puts out the light! "
We had walked very slowly upstairs, but at
this challenge from me we both began to undress
with great speed. Our coats came off together,
and then our collars-neck and neck. Down
we went on the floor, like a well-drilled regi-
ment's "Order arms!" and began to unlace
our shoes in unison. The rights came off to-
gether; but, with too hasty fingers, I pulled
the end of my left shoestring through the loop.
I was the one to put out the light--after that
knot was untied, and then I crawled in beside


my little brother, who would much rather not
have won by a foul."
Soon we began to talk over the mysterious
question, Do hornets ever build their nests
down near the water?
Do you suppose the boys will play they 're
hornets, and sting us with big thistles asked
Bobby, with an anxious voice.
"Perhaps so;' but they won't dare try it if
Ned Barnes is there."
If he is n't, I won't go in," said Bobby, in
the tone of one who has made up his mind.
"We '11 go down, anyway. Perhaps there 's
a real hornets' nest, and we may find it. We
can tell by the way the boys act, what to do."
The next afternoon, much to our relief, Ned
Barnes came down to the swimming-hole soon
after our arrival there, and Bobby and I did not
feel obliged to sit and watch the other boys
having all the fun. There was whispering
among the boys, but we knew what it was
about, and were ready for any trick they might
dare play while Ned was there. This was
Bobby's first visit to the spot, but he could
swim like a little duck, and was to be our com-
panion, instead of joining the paddlers of his
own age in the shallow water, up stream.
For all my little brother's bright blue eyes
were not strong, they were a much better pair
of observers than mine; and if there were a
hornets' nest to be seen, I depended chiefly on
him to discover it.
This time I was undressed first, taking care
about my shoestrings; and after the usual cere-
monial soaking of my brown hair with water,
and burying my browner face in a double hand-
ful of it, I dived into the deep hole.
I have already told how the current would
carry us swiftly under the big tree that projected
above the stream, and how we would clutch it
and thereon reach the bank. But this time, as
I came up, turned on my back, and was borne





THE SWIMMING-HOLE STORIES.


under the tree, I saw, hanging out from the
down-stream side of the trunk- IT!
I did n't clutch the tree, but floated past,
scrambled out on the bank below, and hastened
to where my brother was about to make his
maiden plunge into our swimming-hole.
Wait, wait, Bobby! I cried, in a hoarse
whisper. I want to tell you something. The
nest is on that big tree. You dive once, so 's not
to seem afraid; but get to land without touching
the tree. Then we '11 go home."
The other boys were so busy that, when Bobby
had made his plunge, we quietly dressed and
slipped away unnoticed.
When Charlie arrived about tea-time, he
asked me:
"What was the matter with you this after-
noon? Why did you come up to the house
so early ? "
Oh, you need n't pretend," said I. You
were a trump to give us that hint."
"What about ? "
"Aw! you know. About the hornets' nest
on the trunk of the big tree."
There is n't any nest on the tree, that I know
of. There was one on the old stump up by the
shallows, yesterday; and the fellows meant to
have some fun with you by knocking it off, and
making the hornets mad. But some one else
destroyed it before we got there this afternoon."
"But I saw a nest on the tree myself," I
insisted.
"Why did n't the rest of us see it, then ? "
"You would have seen it if you 'd been on
the lookout, as I was; and I wonder you did n't
see it, anyway."
But don't you suppose that some one of the
boys would have hit it when he pulled himself
out of the water ? "
I should think so. I saw it only just in
time to keep from hitting it myself."
I believe you only imagined you saw a nest,
because you were afraid. Just as people afraid
of ghosts are always thinking they see 'em."
"I was n't afraid. Come down there and
I '11 show it to you."
"All right, but 1 know you won't find any
nest."
So that evening, after tea, Charlie, Bobby, and


I went again to the swimming-hole. When we
reached the stream, our shoes and the lower
ends of our trousers were soaked with dew from
the long meadow grass through which we had
waded. It was nearly dusk. We got down on
our hands and knees at the edge of the bank
below the tree, and peered at the place we had
come to look at, and there saw-a big, brown,
warty knot on the trunk. In all the times I had
seen the trunk of that tree, I had never noticed
the knot; but I had never before been looking
out so sharply for a hornets' nest.
Charlie and Bobby looked at each other, but
they both kept still so still, in fact, that they
made me nervous. But they were very good
about it, and the chaffing I expected never
came.
The way back seemed to me a great deal
longer than that we had come, though it was
over the same ground. Across the meadow it
was slightly up hill from the stream, and perhaps
that was the reason. The long grass matted
and tangled before us, and our shoes ripped
through it as we crossed the meadow in the
growing darkness.
We were so tired when we reached home that
we went straight up to bed, talking over the
events of the day.
Now let 's go to sleep, Bobby," said I, at
last. Good night."
Well, good night," said Bobby.
Good night."
Good night."
"There; did you hear the clock strike nine ?
Well, after nine o'clock we must n't talk. I '11
say good night, and then we '11 stop. Good
night."
Good night," echoed Bobby.
"You ought n't to answer me, when it'sso late.
You 've said good night, and now I '11 answer,
and then we must go to sleep. Good night."
Good night," said Bobby.
"Why do you keep on answering? Suppose
we say it together, after I count three."
"All right," said Bobby.
Now, then. One, two, three "
"Good- night!" we both exclaimed, to-
gether.
In three minutes more we were sound asleep.











THE STORY OF THE "CENTURY" CAT.


By MARY F. HONEYMAN.


So Tiberius might have sat
Had Tiberius been a cat."
PROBABLY most ST. NICHOLAS boys and girls
have a favorite cat or kitten, maybe a whole
family of these furry friends. And perhaps the
lively interest taken in their home pets will be
extended to the big silver-gray Maltese pussy
whose portrait stands at the head of this page.
His experiences have been somewhat different
from those of cats in general. In the first place,
he began life very high up in the world; that
is to say, in the seventh story of the building
which is the home of the ST. NICHOLAS maga-
zine. At an early age he went into business, not
as an office boy, but as an office cat; for mice
were plenty in the great building, and their
sharp little white teeth did much mischief in
nibbling the backs off the magazines for the
morsel of paste that secures the cover. And
these mice, perhaps knowing more than most
mice, having been familiar with good literature


all their days, just laughed at mouse-traps, no
matter how temptingly baited with toasted
cheese, and refused to be caught in them on
any terms. At length it was decided to get a
cat to put an end to their depredations; and
what cat could be better than the gray one who
lived on the top floor with the janitor, and was
then some three years old ? So it came about
that he was installed as The Century Cat; and
what could be more fitting than that he should
receive the name "Century" ? A good friend of
his at once gave him a fine collar with his name
engraved upon it, and very soon he came to
know his name quite as well as you boys and
girls know yours, and answered when it was
called more promptly perhaps than some of you
always answer to yours.
His duties were so faithfully performed that
in a short time no mice were to be seen about
the premises; but how or when they were dis-
posed of no one knew, though there was a


Al

y.





THE STORY OF THE "CENTURY" CAT.


general impression that the cat and the mice
arranged their affairs at night when they had
the building to themselves. Certainly, during
the day Century devoted most of his time to
sleeping, sometimes curled up into a huge furry
ball, as like as not on top of a tall heap of
magazines, his head resting on one of the soft
gray paws that you see in the picture.
He evidently believed that a cat must live,
and was inclined to be a trifle particular as to
both the quality and the quantity of the beef or
mutton, and milk that were daily brought from
a restaurant for his delectation. In this way,
although he could not be said to draw a salary,
yet his name was upon the pay-roll, and his
weekly account was audited with the general
business of the magazines.
Century was not unmindful of his social
duties, and during some portion of every day
he gave his friends an opportunity of show-
ing him those little attentions of which all cats
are so fond. He walked about the entire office
on the tops of the desks, stepping carefully over
the books, letters, papers, etc., with which they
were covered, never displacing anything, and
strange to say, never upsetting the ink. Once,
though, he did get a paw into a large inkstand
accidentally, and then walking over one of the
large wrappers in which the magazines are
mailed, the perfect impression of the paw was
left upon the paper, many times repeated, in
violet ink. This was preserved as a specimen
of the office cat's handwriting.
In some particularly cozy corner or near some
chosen friend he would lie down and take his
afternoon nap; and very amusing it was to see
what trouble people would take so that the
cat might not be disturbed. Sometimes he
would station himself on the counter and make
friends with the persons who came in, very few
of whom failed to pat and speak to the beauti-
ful creature. These courtesies were generally
received with dignified condescension. Occa-
sionally, however, he seemed to throw dignity
to the winds; and then with ears laid back and
tail erect, he would scamper down the corridor,
just a city block from the front to the rear of
the building, and back again as fast as he
could go.
In summer, when the windows were open, he


liked to lie far out on the sill, stretched at
full length. And if any one, fearful that he
might fall from his lofty perch, tried to per-
suade him to take a safer position, he would
scold and resume the outermost ledge as soon
as possible. One thing here disturbed his peace
of mind, and that was when the sparrows would
alight on the telegraph wires, not far from the
windows, and there chirp and twitter in the
most exasperating manner. Long, sly looks he
took at them, and if they came nearer than
usual he would show his teeth and talk" in
what seemed to be a very disagreeable way.
If Century were telling this story himself, I
suppose he would say that his most dreadful
experience was on the night when the build-
ing took fire. It was some time before. the
poor fellow could be found, thoroughly fright-
ened and very wet but not at all burned. He
never seemed to recover entirely from the scare,
however, and this fact may have led to the
suggestion, when the question of office vaca-
tions came up last summer, that Century should
take a vacation, too. Why not? He must
find it very trying to be shut up alone from
noon on Saturday till the following Monday
morning, all summer long, to say nothing of
every night. So it was arranged that the cat
should have a vacation, and should spend it
in one of the pretty villages of New Jersey.
There he found himself one fine day, though the
less said the better as to the manner in which
he conducted himself on the way thither. But
then boys, and, I am sorry to add, girls, do not
always behave perfectly well on trains and boats
and in other public places; so let us not expect
too much of a mere cat.
It was good to see how delighted the hand-
some captive was with the new out-of-door
world that was now opened to him. Do you
remember how you felt when you were first
taken from the hot and noisy city to the sea-
shore, or to some lovely green farm? How
charming it was to dig in the sand, to run and
frisk about to your heart's content, to throw
yourself down on the soft grass under the shady
trees and to breathe the sweet air! Something
like this poor Century felt, for you will remem-
ber that he had never been out of the city
before, had never walked on the ground nor





THE STORY OF THE "CENTURY CAT.


chased another cat, and as for climbing trees,
he did not know there were such things as trees.
He felt his way about very cautiously at first,
as if the light were too strong for his eyes, and
with the air of being afraid that the ground
might give way beneath his feet. He was in
a strange element, and acted much as it is said
sailors have been known to do when on land in
a severe gale, creeping timidly about the streets,
fearful that the houses may fall upon them.
After a little, the spirit of investigation seemed
to take possession of our cat. Every tree, every
shrub, the flowers, and the grass he must sniff
and rub against in the peculiar fashion in which
cats make acquaintance; this not once, but again
and again. The trees impressed him greatly, and
it was not long before he attempted to run up
one--rather shyly at the start, and not very
far, but gradually he lost all fear and climbed as
nimbly as any cat need. Insects were curiosi-
ties to this town-bred creature, and he would
perk his head on one side and look at a
grasshopper or a cricket with a comically criti-
cal air. Of course he knew no better than to
play with bees. Having pinned one to the wall,
he proceeded to examine it closely; and, when
stung, he shook his head vigorously and seemed
much surprised that the smart could not be
dislodged in that way. Toads afforded him
endless diversion. He would keep one in sight
for hours, giving it an occasional pat, or chasing
it if he felt inclined to frolic. As to birds, their
number and variety evidently filled him with
amazement, not to mention the entire uncon-
cern with which they would alight close to him
to pick up a crumb or a seed.
He was disposed to be very neighborly at
first; in fact he seemed to think that one coun-
try house was quite as good as another-an
opinion that usually led to his hostess's going
about the neighborhood at nightfall inquiring
for a large Maltese cat. When found he invari-
ably made forcible protest against being carried
home.
After a time, though, he seemed to accept the
idea of home and regular hours, and now not
one of you boys who are the proud possessors


of bright new watches could excel Century in
the matter of punctuality. How he manages it
I do not know, but every night precisely at ten
o'clock the tap, tap of his collar may be heard
against the pane of a certain low window which
he has selected in preference to a door. And then
he knows that he will be admitted to the waiting
saucer of milk, and to the warm rug on which
he sleeps.
Fears that he might not be able to defend
himself against other cats and dogs proved to
be quite groundless. He took his stand from
the very first morning that he lay dozing in the
porch and waited for an intrusive terrier to come
up barking noisily. Then Century flew at that
dog, taking care not to let him escape from the
premises until a sound thrashing had been ad-
ministered, when he was allowed to depart
wailing down the street, a wiser dog, for he has
passed daily ever since without vouchsafing so
much as a growl. Dogs much larger than Cen-
tury are admonished to depart without cere-
mony; and as to cats, all and sundry, a warning
" S-p-t-z-f-f, s-p-t-t-t!" is the only salutation that
the boldest waits for.
Century dearly loves to get into the dining-
room at dinner, when he will steal from chair to
chair, softly purring; and having attracted atten-
tion by gently touching one's elbow with his
paw, or rubbing his head against one's arm, he
will sit up on his haunches, very straight, drop
those soft gray paws forward close together on
his breast, and so wait for whatever choice
morsel he may have. Cheese he likes exceed-
ingly, and will do his most irresistible "beg-
ging" when his keen scent apprises him that
cheese is upon the table.
He is still in the country, nowise anxious to
return to the city and to business, apparently;
and I know not where you will find a sleeker,
happier, more comfortable cat. He is affec-
tionate and grateful to a degree, though people
who do not like cats will tell you that they are
never the one nor the other.
Along vacation, did you say ? Century doesn't
think it too long, I am sure; and when did you
ever find that fault with one of your vacations ?












A NEW TALE OF A TUB.


7P By N. P

S ---~-- II rLE Eddy was just
S three years old. His
S,-father was a fisher-
is man; his mother
was a washer-
woman, and did the
I ;ng for the city people
I/ 7 I who came down to the beach in sum-
mer. They were very poor folk, and lived in
a very small house, half-way down the side of
the bluff that runs out into the ocean. Along
that side of the bluff, and away out across the
beach, runs a little stream, where Eddy's mama
used to wash the clothes when the tide was out;
for the stream was then shallow and the water
quite fresh.
One day she took down a large tub full of
clothes to wash, and while she worked little
Eddy played about on the sand and dabbled
with his little pink feet in the shallow pools of
the creek. When the clothes were all washed
and wrung out, she laid them in a large sheet,
and made them up into a bundle, which she
threw over her shoulder so as to carry it up
the hill. She called to Eddy to go with her,
and they started together; but before they had
gone very far, Eddy ran back to chase a flock
of little sandpipers on the beach, and forgot all
about going home. After a while he felt tired
and sleepy. Now, it happened that his mother,
after emptying out the wash-tub, had left it
standing on a little sand bank near the edge of
the bay; and, inside of it she had left an old
coverlet, which had served to keep the clothes
from blowing away out of the tub when she
brought them down. Eddy crept into the tub,
and curled himself up in a funny little heap in
the soft coverlet, where he soon fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile his mother had hung out all the
clothes on the clothes-line, and then noticed,
for the first time, that Eddy was nowhere about.
She called him, but not a sound answered; she


SFRANCIS.


looked through the house, but no Eddy was
there. Then she looked down and saw her
wash-tub on the sand; but the little fellow in-
side she could not see. She saw only that he
was nowhere on the beach, and she began to
be very much frightened; so that, though she
knew the tide was coming in, she could not
even stop to save her wash-tub, but ran as
fast as she could go to the top of the bluff
and then down the road to the neighbors', to
ask if any one had seen Eddy. Of course
nobody had seen him; and while they were
talking about him and looking for him, the tide
came in and floated the tub from the little
sand bank. Now that afternoon a smart lit-
tle breeze chanced to be blowing off shore.
The wash-tub, with little Eddy's weight in it,
canted over toward one side, and the opposite
side stood high out of water and made a very
good sort of a sail. So, instead of going up-
stream with the tide, Eddy's new-fashioned
boat sailed straight out to sea, passed safely
over the tiny breakers at the mouth of the


stream, and stood boldly out, heading due east
for the Old World.
Eddy's father, as I said before, was a fisher-
man. He used to go out very early in the


---






A NEW TALE OF A TUB.


morning, with trawls and hand lines, sor
a long way from home. After setting hi!
he would spend the day in fishing with h
lines, and toward evening, after visit
trawls and taking off the fish that were
he would come home, either rowing or
wind favored, under sail. Now, that aft,
while Eddy was taking his sail in the w,
his papa was sailing home along shore
boat, and he noticed something floating
water a little distance out seaward. .
he could not make out what it was; b
who live much on the sea soon become v
sighted, and it was not long before he s;
it was a wash-tub. He was very tired,
knew that, if he went out to pick up the
would have to row back against the win
then, he was very poor, and he thought
self how useful another wash-tub would
his wife. So in spite of his weariness he
his boat, and, going out before the wind, i
overtook or, as the sailors say, overhaul'
slow-sailing tub.
"Why, that 's a master good tub, tl
said he, when he came near; and b]
heart, what 's that inside ? Why, if there
lot of old clothes in there and, so say
took hold of the tub and went to pull
what he supposed to be the old clothe
just think how he felt when,
down among the folds of the
coverlet, he found his own --
little rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed,
yellow-haired, roly-poly baby
that he loved so much!
How he hugged him and -
kissed him, and how glad he
was that he had not been
lazy enough to let the old
wash-tub go! There, indeed, was a rev
his trouble !
He took little Eddy into his boat, a
tub, too, and then he pulled home and r
the high tide right into the stream just be
house. His wife saw him coming, and
down toward the shore, crying as if he
would break; and with her came some
kind neighbors, who were doing all the


to comfort her. One of them told her that her
wash-tub was in the boat; but what did she care
for the tub, when she had lost her little darling ?
She did n't even look up. Nobody saw Eddy;
for he had soon gone to sleep again, and was
lying on the bottom of the boat all covered up
in his papa's big pea-jacket.
When the boat touched the sand, and was
drawn up high and dry, Eddy's father stepped
up to the women and asked what they were all
crying about. But he did n't wait for the an-
swer, for the tears stood thick in his own eyes.
" Look 'e here, Mary," said he, I 've brought
ye back your tub; and what d' ye s'pose I
found in it ? and with that he caught up the
boy from the stern of the boat and laid him in
his mother's arms.
Of course I need not try to tell you how glad
she was to see her
heedless wanderer
again. She took
Eddy up to their
house, and gave
him a good supper,
and put him into
his little crib.


-V


HE TOOK LITTLE EDDY INTO HIS BOAT, AND THE TUB, TOO.
'ard for The next day nearly all the boarders at the
beach came to see the little sailor boy that went
.nd the to sea in a tub; and when they saw what nice
an with people Eddy's parents were, and how very poor,
low his they collected a good sum among themselves,
she ran and they bought the poor fisherman a fine sail-
r heart boat; so after that he made a good living by
of the taking out people that wanted a sail. And little
y could Eddy often went out with them.


789



















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A MORNING IN THE HAYFIELD.


A


I ~


C.


' .. _














SOME INCIDENTS OF STANLEY'S EXPEDITION.

BY E. J. GLAVE.


THE Zanzibaris have played a noble part in
Central Africa. They have been the compan-
ions of many white travelers in that wild land,
and to their zeal, courage, and loyalty is history
greatly indebted for the exploration of the Dark
Continent. Under the standard of those Anglo-
Saxon heroes, Stanley, Livingstone, Burton,
Speke, Grant, the natives have done wonderful
service.
No nobler record of absolute devotion to
duty on the part of blacks exists than Through
the Dark Continent," in the pages of which the
graphic pen of Stanley thrilled the hearts of all
nations with the brilliant narrative of the deeds
of his heroic followers of those adventurous
and plucky spirits who left home and friends
in Zanzibar, enrolled themselves under the two
great Anglo-Saxon banners, the Stars and
Stripes and the British Union Jack," and re-
mained with their noble leader, Stanley, through
thick and thin-repelled the persistent attacks
of hostile savages, bore sickness, privation, and
hunger, and remained unconquered till their
work was accomplished and Africa had been
crossed.
During Stanley's last triumphal success, re-
lieving Emin Pasha from the fanatic hordes
of the Mahdi, the young Zanzibari, Saleh Bin
Osman, served with great distinction and by his
loyal conduct gained the confidence of Buana
Mkubua," Big Master," which, as I have told
you, is the name by which these people knew
Stanley.
After accompanying Stanley through Dark-
est Africa, he returned with the expedition to
Zanzibar, and remained with his leader while
the explorer narrated to America his stirring
adventures.
Being conversant with Ki-Swahili, the lan-
guage of the Zanzibaris, I have had several


interesting chats with young Saleh, and in the
following short article I have translated from
his own tongue some anecdotes and incidents
which happened on the march and in camp
during the travels of the expedition.

Early in 1887, Stanley arrived at Zanzibar, in
command of the Emin Relief Expedition,"
for which Mr. Mackenzie, who was acting as
agent, had gone on ahead in order to recruit
Zanzibari followers.
Among the candidates for enlistment was
Saleh bin Osman, who, although he had never
made a journey with Stanley, had accompanied
white travelers in some parts of Eastern Africa
and the island of Madagascar.
Saleh "signed on" as a servant, and owing
to his superior intelligence was soon appointed to
be chief of all the black servants of the force.
The expedition remained at Zanzibar but three
days. Six hundred and twenty Zanzibaris in all
were engaged, and as they were duly enrolled
on the Expedition books they were sent off in
barges and placed on board the Madura," a
steamer chartered to convey the party from
Zanzibar around the Cape of Good Hope to
the mouth of the Congo.
When all arrangements were complete, and
the Kaa Heris (good-bys) had been said by the
enlisted men to their friends who came off in
dhows and canoes, the Madura hoisted her
anchor and steamed away to the southward.
The Zanzibari force was now divided into
companies, and the white officers of the ex-
pedition received their respective commands.
The boys who had engaged as servants were
also told off to their different masters, and Saleh
bin Osman became Stanley's body servant.
After a few days' steaming, the Madura ar-
rived at Cape Town. Some of the white offi-





SOME INCIDENTS OF STANLEY'S EXPEDITION.


cers and Tippu Tib went ashore, but the
Soudanese and Zanzibaris were not permitted
to do so, as such liberty would be taken ad-
vantage of by some of the disorderly.
But a day or two was spent at Cape Town,
and then the ship steamed away for the west
coast of Africa, and arrived a few days later at
the mouth of the Congo. Here the expedition
was transferred to smaller boats, and the whole
force, white and black, was conveyed to Ma-
tadi, one hundred miles up the Congo River.
When the Expedition was landed at Matadi,
all the men received their rifles and ammuni-
tion. Each of the blacks had quite a bulky
package of his own private property, a mis-
cellaneous assortment of odds and ends, no doubt
valuable additions to comfort, but superfluous
weight on the march. So when each man re-
ceived a load of sixty-five pounds weight to carry
two hundred odd miles, besides the several
pounds of rations for the journey, all those
private packages had to be abandoned by their
mourning owners.
Previous to receiving their heavy loads, the
Zanzibaris had been full of good spirits,-prob-
ably expecting a continuation of the enjoyable
existence so comfortably passed on the good
ship Madura,-but the weighty cases of car-
tridges and the big steep hills ahead which had
to be climbed, brought unhappiness and ren-
dered the men dejected. Instead of dancing
and singing throughout the evening as before,
the camp looked glum and miserable as the
smoldering campfires lit up the sadly meditative
faces of the silent throngs who saw their time
of ease and comfort was at an end, and realized
that arduous toil was ahead of them.
The white traveler who has performed the
overland march from Matadi to Stanley Pool can
heartily sympathize with the black porter who
manfully struggles up the steep, rocky incline
of Pallaballa, Congo Di Lemba, or staggers
almost stifled through the suffocating valley of
Lakanga. The white man makes the marches
unhampered by unnecessary clothing, and then
flatters himself he has performed a wonderful
feat of endurance.
Saleh said it was curious to watch Stanley's
white officers when they were first introduced to
chiquanga, a kind of pudding made of boiled


manioc root. Neither the taste nor odor of
this food is at all inviting at first; but necessity
brings all whites as well as blacks to regard it as
the bread of life before many months of resi-
dence in Central Africa.
Sometimes when deprived of it for many days
I have often hailed a piece of toasted chiquanga
as a real luxury, and I have been rather dis-
gusted with newly arrived whites whose upturned
noses condemned my barbaric taste.
When Stanley's white officers had finished
their small stock of tinned provisions and rice,
they were absolutely compelled to fall back on
the manioc dishes; but the sourness of taste of
this African pudding is a serious barrier to the
enjoyment of it, and some stubborn persistence
is required before the white man hails chi-
quanga as a delicacy; but like other white trav-
elers, these officers began to like it, and when
they passed beyond the districts where it grew,
and were forced to adhere to a roast plantain
diet, they regretted bitterly that they had no
manioc.
As all the world knows by Stanley's account,
the advance column of the expedition had a
hungry journey in their march through the
great forest. For days and days, both whites
and blacks lived upon mushrooms and the acid
fruit of the india-rubber vine.
Saleh is eloquent in his tributes to Stanley's
wonderful influence during this trying time,
saying that it was his personal example in
enduring hardship, and his consoling presence
that kept up the spirits of the men.
The marches, owing to the weakness of the
men, were but a few miles a day, when a halt
would be called and everybody would be sent
into the jungle to search for food. Saleh cited
an incident which illustrates the condition of
mind and body to which these poor creatures
had been reduced.
One day they had stopped as usual, after a
short march, in order to hunt for food. Two of
the Zanzibaris, Asumani and Ismail, wandered
off together for the purpose of finding mablungui
(india-rubber fruit). After they had penetrated
a little way into the forest, Asumani espied a
rich cluster of the fruit, and pointed it out to
his friend, but told him that as he had been the
first to see it, he considered that it was his,





SOME INCIDENTS OF STANLEY'S EXPEDITION.


and advised his friend Ismail to go and find
another such lot himself. The other suggested
that such selfishness was not right in hungry
times. These two men, made weak by many
days of starvation, after a harsh discussion de-
termined to fight. They closed, but had not
sufficient strength for fighting. They sat down
breathless and glared. When sufficiently re-
covered to speak, Ismail said he would seek
another tree.
Then Asumani started to scale the tree.
Ismail's wits had been sharpened by hunger,
and under the circumstances he considered a
little deceit quite pardonable. So he quietly
hid under the tree his friend had climbed.
Asumani ate ravenously of the ripened mabungu
fruit, and then threw some to the ground, in-
tending to pick it up and take it to camp with
him. He little dreamed that Ismail, hidden be-
neath, was disposing of it as fast as it fell.
By and by Asumani became exhausted and
decided to descend. But he had not sufficient
strength to support his own weight, and he fell
from a height of fifteen feet down upon his friend.
Amid groans and hard breathing, they again
tried to settle differences by a contest; but it
was of no use, they were too weak. They
limped back to camp. Having arrived in a
village where they got abundance of corn, ban-
anas, goats, and fowls, they told how Ismail had
obtained the yellow rubber-fruit, and recounted
Asumani's abrupt descent from the tree.

During the very hungriest time spent by
Stanley's expedition in going through the dense
forest, it happened that the discovery of a little
child of the dwarf tribe proved truly provi-
dential.
Upon approaching one pf the settlements of
these people, the natives, fearing that the Arabs
were upon them, hastily retreated to the depths
of the jungle, leaving in the village one .of the
young children. He was an ungainly little crea-
ture, and from Saleh's description had an enor-
mously big head, protruding lower jaw, lean
frame, and ungainly, fat body. The Zanzibaris
sat about in dejected groups, complaining of
their present hard existence, and the sad contrast
of to-day with their joyous life in their island
hdme away in the Indian Ocean.
VOL. XVIII.-56.


The little Teki-Teki (pigmy), although not
more than three years old, was busily search-
ing for something in the dry leaves. The Zan-
zibaris were attracted by the child's activity.
Presently the sparkle of his eyes and the increased
earnestness of his hunt showed that he had been
successful; and, indeed, he returned to the
camp-fire carrying a lot of pods like enormous
beans. These he scraped to a fine powder,
which he damped, rolled in some big leaves,
and then toasted in the ashes. When cooked
to his satisfaction he opened the dainty package
and the whole camp became filled with the
pleasant odor of this new dish. The men of
the expedition then closed round and, much to
the young Teki-Teki's disgust, helped them-
selves to a tasting pinch. The Zanzibaris knew
the tree quite well; it was the "makneme." This
new discovery brought a gleam of hope to the
hearts of these hungry beings. The capture of
the tiny woodsman was a godsend, and Saleh
said that had this unhappy little creature but
faintly understood their language he would
have been overwhelmed with the heartfelt bless-
ings showered on him. A few days afterwards
another tribe of these same small people was
met, and the child was handed over to them to
be returned to his parents.
One evening the expedition arrived at Fort
Bodo, after the long, hungry march and many
days of anxiety because of the continued fights
with cannibals and dwarfs. Now they could
have good food in place of the fungi and wild
fruits on which they had been living for many
months. The groups oflaughing men clustering
round the big camp-fires seemed to be on good
terms with themselves and were well contented.
This particular evening Saleh passed with
three friends, who formed a select little party
around a big, steaming saucepan. They were
saying, "We have passed the hunger-stricken
forest and shall soon be strong again. Many
have fallen by the way; all we can do or say
will not bring them back again. Let us who'
remain at least be happy and regain as quickly
as possible our health and strength." All
agreed to make the best of their lot.
"Who can tell us a good story?" said one.
Another native answered, "I will tell you a
story of the animals long ago. It is a story of:






SOME INCIDENTS OF STANLEY'S EXPEDITION.


THE CAT AND THE RAT.

THE cat and the rat lived on the island
Miota, all alone. The rat said, Let us go to
the island of Joanna, for if we get sick no one
would care for us." So they started to go seven
hundred miles in a canoe made of a sweet po-
tato. The rat rowed till he became tired and
cross, and began to eat the potato. The cat
said, Row on," but the rat said, I am tired;
you row awhile."- So the cat rowed till she
was tired, and she fainted. The first thing
they knew the boat was sinking.
The cat said, Now, I am going to eat you,
for you ate my boat."
The rat said, No; if you eat me in the water
you will die. Just wait till we are on land."
They swam to the island Miota, and the rat
began to dig a hole and said, "Wait till I dig
some roots before you eat me, then you will
have a nice dinner." When the rat finished
the hole, they fought for a long time; then the
rat ran into the hole all but his tail. The cat
stayed outside and changed his voice to imitate
the rat. He said to the rat, "Even if I die
you will never be free, for you and all the rats
forever will be beef and mutton for my sons
and daughters."
Then the cat went away and made a great
banquet for all the animals. He told the lion
how the rat ate his canoe. The lion said,
Had I been you I would have killed the rat
for eating your canoe! The lion then roared
and said, I give orders for the cats to eat the
rats forever! The rabbit, who was sitting near,
and was the judge of the animals, said, "Why
so?" The lion answered, "For eating the
canoe." The rabbit said, "The rat did right
for he was hungry. You think you are king
but I know somebody stronger than you."
The lion, irritated by the rabbit's talk, angrily
asked him, "Who can be stronger than I ?"
The rabbit, trembling at the glare and roar of
the lion, said," I know you are powerful and
terrible and are able to kill other animals, and
successfully battle even with men, but I am
sure Mzi Nyaa [Old Man Hunger] is your
master." The lion jeered contemptuously at
the little animal and said in scorn, "You are


an idiot, my little friend. Mz6 Nyaa cannot
conquer me. I challenge him to a duel." All
right," said the rabbit; I know where he
lives. I will go after the banquet and tell
him what you say, and in a few days' time I
will return again and let you know what he
says."
The rabbit then hopped away, and selecting a
quiet spot in the depths of the forest he built a
strong house of heavy posts stoutly fastened to-
gether. This little rabbit superintended the
construction, the other animals in the woods
lending a helping hand, being always willing to
render any assistance to thwart their old tyrant
the lion. When everything was completed to
the rabbit's satisfaction he again sought an in-
terview with the lion, and said:
I have seen Mz6 Nyaa, who scorns your de-
fiance and has appointed a meeting-place for the
conflict, to which I will conduct you when you
are ready."
We will go now," said the lion. I am too
angry for any delay."
So the little rabbit piloted the great forest king
through the quiet paths to the little stockaded
house he had recently constructed.
If you will just lie down in there," said the
rabbit, Mz6 Nyaa will appear."
The lion innocently walked into the trap and
the rabbit closed and firmly barred the door.
The rabbit then gaily scampered off to receive
congratulations from the other animals for the
success of the ruse, and the lion was left in silent
conflict with Mz6 Nyaa.
After a few days the little rabbit approached
the trap. The lion was now shrunk to a skele-
ton; he pleaded hard, but it was of no avail.
"Continue the contest," said the rabbit.
Day after day the little animal appeared, until
the captive died of hunger.
Ever after that the rabbit was king, but he
lived in a hole in the ground. The animals said
as he was so small it would be better to keep
himself from danger.
Now," said the story-teller, "during our
recent travels we were the lions and Hunger
was the master. In his grasp we were weak as
women, though we feared not wild beast nor
savage man."
C











THE STORY OF MY LIFE.
(As told by Saleh and recorded in shorthand.)


.v .
4W


SALEH BIN OSMAN.


I BORN in July 9, 1871. My mother was
dead when I three years old. When I was one
year older, I go to my mother sister, and stay
with her. When I get four year old, my father
send me school to read Koran, and then when
I seven year old I begin to read the Bible, and
finish when I eight year old the Bible. The
schoolmaster name is "Shayhah"; over in


America you call him schoolmaster. He change
my name and call him Saleh," mean honey ";
and when I ten year old, I finish all school and
went to my father, and taker me one year to
stay with my father. When I get ten year, he
taker me travel to India, Bombay, Calcutta,
Bungola, and come back to Zanzibar.
He asker me, Which kine business you





THE STORY OF MY LIFE.


like ? I say, I liker make shop, fruit-shop ";
and then he give me 40 dollar, and I go to my
fren [friend] and he give 40 dollar, and then to
anotherr fren, he give 40 dollar, and then we
make bisness. We sell cokenuts, orange, and
mango, and sweet lemon. And then my fren
he tol' me "This maker dirty bisness, much
better to buy boat, a little rowboat," and we
pay 200 dollar, and that 's all money we got.
When 'Merican manwah [man-of-war] come,
we bring people down; and next time we went
to go, the sea very bad, and boat he go down,
and one my fren no swim, he wear heavy jacket,
and he go down dead. And we swim to man-
wah, and anotherr boat he come and bring us to
shore, and all people say my fault, because I at
the head of the bisness, and I mad. And he say
I be liker to get a plent' money quick! And my
father was cross-to me because all people say that
my fault. I run away and went to Malagascar
[Madagascar]; and all money I get I got 20
rupee [rupee, 40 cts.] in my pocket.
When we 'rive to Malagascar, we stop at
Noosbay. All French people, and master asker
me for passage. I broke French. I say, "How
much ?" He say, "Twenty rupee," and I say,
"That 's all money I got." He say, "I don't
care, I want twenty rupee, now, quick! I give
it him, and I don't got any money in my
pocket. And I went in police station, and
soon I see myself, and I set down and cry.
When watchman come, asker me, "Why you
cry ? He think somebody beat me. I told I
cry because I no home this country, no fren.
He asker me what language speak. I say, "I
speak Arab"; and he laugh me, and say you
can't go far, we no speak Arab in this coun-
try [Madagascar]. I stayed there till half-past
five, and see him, he bring in tin, a small tin
liker a cup, and it inside no sugar, no milk. A
piece bread he giver me, and said, "That all I
have in my supper. Have no better supper."
And I say, Thank you to God, and thank you
to yourself." And then he show me place and
say, "You go down there." In evening rain
come and sundercome [thunder come], and I
fright. And I don't got blanket, don't got pil-
low, just sleep in groun. And when rain come,
and I up and I sit down, and I cry.
In morning I went to French town, and I


see big big man, and he say to me, 1' Hello, boy!
what you do here ? Because he know me very
well, because I dress different; I dress Zanzi-
bar dress. He say, "You Zanzibar boy." I
said, "Yes. I don't know anybody here." He
say, "Come with me." And I go to him. And
he told me, I want you to go to my wife, and
carry bag, and to go with her all places she go,
when she go for walk." This man Frenchman.
He name Admirally Pierre. He fight in Mala-
gascar. And he taker me in his manwah, and
taker me to his wife; and she be glad. She
say, I tried to find Zanzibar boy when I there,
to teacher me Zanzibar language."
Half-past four we went down shore, in town,
and she buy too much cloths, and guve to me,
and she told to me, "I want you to throw
'way dirty cloths you got." And I throw 'way,
and dress fine.
We sail from Noosbay to Junka, and we fight
there for seven day. That was the native Mala-
gascar, called "Hover"; yellow, liker Chinese.
Got two naine, the other name we call him
" Wambalambo." When we fight we stay there
for two mont's. And Madam Pierre she show
very kine for me, liker my mother. And
then I teach her in Zanzibar tongue for two
mont's, and then she speaker me very well.
When I say something to her she understand .
And then she asker me everything 'bout myself,
an' I told her how I come. She said, I am
very sorry for you, I maker you happy just liker
mother." And then she say, I want you
teacher me Zanzibar language, and I want
you learn Malagascar, because when Admirally
go home he will want you interpreter, and on
manwah."
He got two boys, and he say, Now, Saleh,
you taker walk with these boys every day and they
teacher you. You go down city, and they tell
you name everything." One boy told me some-
thing and I put down Arab, and I learn quick
in four months. And Madam go home, and she
say, "Admirally, taker care Saleh, he good boy."
And then my bisness was carry Admirally's rifle
and glass when we go in shore. And on man-
wah I have nothing do, and sit down and
eat and dress nice. And then he call me," Saleh,
my boy," in Zanzibar language, because he
speak Zanzibar first class. One day he called


796






THE STORY


me in morning and give me letter, and I open
and fine Madam's picture and little gold ring.
Madam go home, write Admirally, Please
bring Saleh home, we show people, and we send
him back to Zanzibar." One day in morning he
called me, we go shoot guinea-fowl, and taker
clean and bring to Madam when we go to
France. And we went there and shoot one,
and he send me look for it, and
he forget I there, and he shoot and
his bullets come through my ear, and
I fall down and cry loud, and he come
and looker, and then throw 'way
his gun, and call somebody taker
me 'way to manwah. And he taker
care for me, and when I get better
he finish his business himself, and
we sail for Marseilles, France. And .
then he ketch fever in sea, and when
he go to Marseilles he sick seven
day, and he dead. And his wife
she was good to me and sen' me
back to Zanzibar.
I was glad to go back, but I was
sorry to lose Admirally because he
was good to me. I was glad to go
home, but I was sorry to leave
Madam because she nicer lady.
That all my story travel in Mala-
gascar with Admirally.
My uncle, Tippu Tib, told me
much about Mis'r Stanley. He
know him. He Mis'r Stanley's fren..
When Mis'r Stanley 'rive in Zanzi-
bar, that maker me to go with him
in Africa because I think I travel all
same liker I travel in Malagascar. I
find Mis'r Stanley nices' man I ever
see. He is strong man, and very clever man.
He is a very good shot. He is strong for march.
He is clever for caravan. He has six hundred
twenty-one Zanzibars, and all liker him, all
speaker good for him. He think all time for
his people. This Dark Forest, we don't have
car'age there, no horse, no donkey, no camel, no
railway, you know very well. This travel every-
body must carry his rifle, his cloths, tent, and
ammunition. And this Dark Forest, all bush
and trees very very high,- big! People live in
this Dark Forest, cannibals and pigmies. This


OF MY LIFE. 797
little people, this pigmies are 'bout two feet and
half big. The pigmies not strong enoughh for
grow anything. They maker iron, they maker
fine powsen [poison], and they go round ele-
phant, because they so small he no see them,
and they shoot him in eyes with powsen arrow,
and before long he fall down dead. And they
go to village and call big natuve, we call


TIPPU TIB.
Wasamgora and cannibals. Pigmies have no
big knife, [and bring other natives] because
they got knives to cut elephant. Now this
big natuve he come cut all meat and divide,
and taker half, and half he leave to pigmies.
These cannibals (Wasamgora) eat man the
same they eat beef and mutton. And we
have cannibal man, he belong to Emin Pasha,
and his name we call Binsa. Emin Pasha give
him to Docter Junker and taker to Zanzibar,
and he went with us in Africa. He is not
cannibal now.






THE STORY OF MY LIFE.


I think Mis'r Stanley is very fine man. We
lose many people in Dark Forest for hunger.
I don't forget why I say Mis'r Stanley is very
fine man, he think for his people more than for
himself. One day he told me, I think I liker
my people very much, because my people is
my home. If I lose my people I can't go any-
where." All native in Africa liker Mis'r Stan-
ley. Everything he want and do, he call his
people, asker first. And me sure many people
say Mis'r Stanley bad man--all je'lus, have
nothing in head, all head full flies. I see six
hundred people myself liker Mis'r Stanley,
speak well for him. I been three year and half
with him, he teach me very well. I enjoy my
travel with him. He bring me back to Zanzibar,
home. I asker him to come to Europe with him.
I come for good time with him in Europe. He
is here July, and have wife, good heart and
fine looking. We all went through Europe,
France, Germany, Italy, Switz'land, come back


to London and went to Scotlan' and Irelan' and
all over Englan'. He taker me over here to
'Merica now, and I liker 'Merica very much.
I think there is nice ladies in 'Merica. And
I think there is nice boys and girls. I think
they have nice schools in 'Merica. I believe
this is a rich country: I been in New York,
Brooklyn, New Jersey, Springfield, Boston,
Worcester, Providence, Chelsea, Rochester,
Buffalo, Cleveland, Chicago, and too many
places in all the country that no have time to
say, and I forget his name.
I have no time to tell you how good time I
have this country. I like this country very
much. I write book in Arab, and I go to pub-
lish when I go home. I have no time tell you
how fine ladies this country. How fine boys.
I 'm sure I got something to say when I get
home. Goo'-bye. I sail Wednesday to Englan'.
Soon as I get to Englan' I go home to Zanzibar.
SALEH BIN OSMAN,
Of the Stanley Expedition for the Relief of Emin Pasha.


THE FROGS' SINGING-SCHOOL.

By MRS. E. T. CORBETT.

DOWN in the rushes, beside the pool,
... The frogs were having a singing-school;
S Old frogs, young frogs, tadpoles and all,
S Doing their best at their leader's call.
S' He waved a grass-blade high in the air,
And cried, "Ker-chunk!" which means
Prepare "
But the youngest singer took up the strain,
S\ And sang Ker-chunk" with might and
main.
The others followed as he sang;
Ker-chunk" their voices loudly rang,
Until their leader so angry grew
S He snapped his baton quite in two,
S.- And croaked, "Oh, wrong! oh, wro-ong
oh, wro-ong !"
'Which his class mistook for another song.
At that, their leader had hopped away -
S" Ker-chunk! oh, wro-ong! I heard him
say.
Then flop! he went, right into the pool.
S 'And that was the end of the singing school.


798





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.

THE RABBIT AND THE DONKEY.


A RABBIT met a donkey.
"What a queer little horse!" thought the rabbit, "and--my, what
big ears! "
"What a strange cat! thought the donkey, and my, what big ears "
But all they said was, "Good day."
799






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


Si.\C K IN -THE L P -I T.

"NEXT to fine-weather friends," the Deacon
says, "come warm-weather friends"-and yet I
do not see why, nor can I see what friends have to
do with the weather any way, unless it is to make
dark days bright and fine days finer. However,
be that as it may, all my friends this month are
warm-weather friends or none at all, and in my
opinion the sooner there's a coolness among us
the better.
Here is an idea for you: Whenever you are too
warm think of ice, spell ice, say ice to yourselves
over and over till you feel better.
Now, if you are quite comfortable, we '11 take up
the matter of

ANOTHER CHANCE FOR WORD-MAKERS.
PHILADELPHIA.
DEAR JACK: The disroportionableness" of the length
of the two "Long Words" in your June sermon, to what
should be expected from such wee-uns as we be, is a
matter of" incomprehensibleness."
Here are seven letters from which four good English
words can be made, using all the letters for each word:
CDLMAEI.
Will you give your hearers and the Little School-
ma'am a chance to work them out? ARUM.
THE CRAB'S LESSON.
HERE is a capital little seaside story, with not
sufficient moral to dry it up entirely, sent me on
purpose for you by your friend Tudor Jenks:
" DEAR mother," cried a little crab, I 'd like to see a
man!
I 've never yet set eyes on one. Oh, tell me when I
can! "
"Why, come with me," his mother said, and took him
nearer shore.
"What luck!" said she. "Here comes one now. Pray
scan him o'er and o'er."
The crablet waved his high-stalked eyes and clasped
his claws with joy.


"Behold," then spoke the mother wise, "the kind of
man called 'Boy.'
Those boys are dreadful creatures, love. Be careful
where you roam.
Look out! Avoid that net! That's right. We'd
better sidle home."
Away they slid; and, safe at home, the crablet straight
began
To tell his mother what he thought of that strange
creature man.
" How awkward it does seem," said he, "and yet I see
it 's true,
While we walk straight on eight small legs, he goes
sideways on two!
His shell looks soft and seems to be a kind of sickly
pink,
Much uglier than our dull green and lovely brown,
I think.
With his small claws how could he tear the weakest
fish in two?
And if he tried to fight a crab-I don't see what
he'd do!
His eyes are flat. How can he look behind him in
the sea?
I can't see how he lives at all. What use can such
things be?"
"'T is hard to tell," the mother said. "Your father used
to say
That boys and nets were trials, love, and useful in
this way:
When youthful crabs are lazy, and won't learn to swim
with speed,
These creatures come to punish them, and on their
bodies feed!
So walk as fast as you know how, and swim and dive
with care,
That when the boys with nets shall scoop, they will
not find you there.
Remember your dear father's fate-a crab came back
to me
To bring your father's parting words, just as he left
the sea.
How carefully I 've treasured up his last, his dying
charge,
'Pinch all that 's small or weak,' said he, 'and run
from all that 's large.'"


THOUGHTS ABOUT ANIMALS THINKING.
WHETHER animals think or not (and Jack thinks
they do), certain it is that the question put from
this Pulpit in May has set my youngsters thinking.
Letters have come in from all parts of the world,
and more, too. Last month I showed you as many
as I conveniently could, and now out of many
good letters at hand, so to speak, I shall give you
two that must be thought over by yourselves in
shady groves when you are not dallying with
school-books.
GRAND RAPIDS, MICH.
DEAR JACK: In the May ST. NICHOLAS a girl wanted
to know if horses, cows, cats, and dogs, etc., have lan-
guages of their own.
My opinion is, that dogs do, but I don't know much
about the horses and cows. Here is my proof:
I have a dog. His name is Nanki Poo (commonly
called Nank); he has a friend, our neighbor's dog,
" Don." For two years these dogs have been together,
both going to school with me. Every time I go out fish-
ing they go, too, and the boys became quite interested in
their friendship.
Another neighbor bought a dog, and he tried to get


800






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


into society with Don and Nank. Nank, however, took
a dislike to this dog, and Don liked him.
Don and Nank did not go together any more, since
Don paid any attention to the other dog. Nank proba-
bly said in dog-language," Don, if you go with that other
ugly dog any more, I '11 drop you."
And so he did. The other dog is either dead or has
run away, but Nank has never had anything more to do
with Don. Father said it was jealousy, but mama and I
don't think so. Yours truly, GEO. B. E- .

ANOTHER DOG STORY.

THE other storyis this one, which comes Irom
Augusta, Maine.

DEAR JACK: ONE of the officers at the Soldier:' N-.
tional Home, Togus, Maine, owned two dogs, a thor..u ih.
bred greyhound and a pure-blooded silver Sl
One day the servant went to the gentleman and I:.1l
him the sugar was disappearing faster than they us.-. i :
he said, "You must watch, and find out, if possible.
takes it." A few days later she
came to tell him it was his grey-
hound who was the thief. He loved
his pet and could not punish him,
so he told the servant that she must. \ -
In what way the beautiful creature
was corrected I do not know, but he
remembered the lesson, and did not
go again himself for the much-loved
sweet. For some days the sugar
was untouched; then it was seen to i
disappear too fast again. A second
watch showed that the greyhound,
remembering his correction, but
longing for the dainty, must have
communicated with his little com-
panion, and he, the little Skye, not
loving sugar himself, stole it for his mate.
He was seen to go for it, and carry it to the
larger dog.
As their fond master says, "I have no
question in my own mind but that they had
a language by which they communicated
their wishes and desires to each other."
The proof to me seems strong that the hound reasoned
to himself that the terrier, not loving sugar, would not
be suspected of the theft and watched and punished as he
had been. If they had not talked it over, how could
he know that his faithful little friend did not love sugar,
and would help him in his trouble ?
Yours sincerely,
Lucy WILLIAMS C-.

A SPIDER'S INGENUITY.

HERE is a very interesting article lately sent for
your amusement and instruction by a very observ-
ing friend of nature and of ST. NICHOLAS:

DEAR JACK: When the wind is blowing fresh, the
spiders' beautiful webs are likely to be broken at any
moment, and without a web the spider can have nothing
to eat. To prevent such an accident requires its con-
stant attention, and like the captain of a ship the brave
little animal takes up its position in the center of its silken
home and remains there until the "blow" is over.
Here the spider is in full control. The middle of the
web is the central station to which all news relating to its
glistening domain is sent. Every vibration, even at the
mostdistant point, is instantly telegraphed to headquarters,
and if the news be of vital importance, the spider leaves


for the scene of danger at once. There it may find that a
strand has broken loose which, unless instantly repaired,
will completely ruin the web.
But sometimes the accident is of such a nature that to
repair the damage calls for considerable ingenuity. For
instance, the lower part of the web is often fastened to a
weed. When the wind begins to blow, the weed gently bows
its head, and the danger to the web becomes very great;
another bow more lowly than before, and the strands snap,
leaving the web flapping like a sail in a wind. The spider
hurries down, but everythingis in confusion; the broken
strands are flying in all

I : [l,: ,.,J ". l "I ,'uI --
, .. II ,,- ..:.. .



T..... .



--.. ....J i -' '.


:-Z _-:-_ ,' ,1 I.


t ~i
= I-'


'''!


- -.- -0-
-- -I


S- ~-- one little spider
.C." c solved the diffi-
culty. It quickly low-
ereditselftothe ground,
Sand procured a small
-- chip of wood around
which it fastened a
thread. It then hung this to
the lower part of the web with
a strong silken cable.
The effect was wonderful. It
kept the web firm, and yet
S"gave" enough to yield to the
wind. Accidentally it was
knocked off, but the spider recovered it and hung it as
before. The web suffered no further injury although the
wind blew very hard.
Some spiders use a very small stone instead of a chip of
wood, and even fasten the weight to a web which is five
or six feet from the ground.
Yours very truly, M. N-.
HOW ABOUT THE FLY?
MAY I ask a question? In what manner do flies-
the house-fly, of course, musca domestica-alight on the
ceiling ? They fly wings uppermost, and must turn round
altogether to get their feet highest. They strike with
their forefeet I suppose, and pivot on those, but my best
attention has failed to prove my theory.
Sincerely yours, H. S. SANFORD, Jr.


: -_ .-., -
_ .,- ,,












A MARBLE QUARRY.


BY GEORGE P. MERRILL.


THE deep cleft in the ground, shown in the pic-
ture on the opposite page, is a marble quarry in the
green hills of western Vermont. Unnumbered years
ago, before even the Rocky or Alleghany Mountains
were formed, this part of the United States, now cov-
ered by beautiful fields and wooded hills, lay buried
by the waters of a great ocean. And in this ocean
there lived and died, year after year, shell-fish and
corals and a thousand interesting and curious crea-
tures. Those of us who have stood on the sea-shore
when the tide was out, have seen that the muddy bot-
tom was formed of pebbles, broken shells, whole
shells, perhaps with the animals still in them, sea-
urchins, sea-weeds, and a great variety of creatures.
Now, in just the same way, on the bottom of this
old sea a similar mud formed for no man can tell
how many years, until at last, owing to the great
heat and pressure upon the layers far down, it


I).- .- ;t _:.-.i..1 I(.. a.1 ', r:, ;:r. i: .l ,.f rM iL m ar-
ihh 1 ,,U l .:..0,1 L oc, h .ii.i. -1r. ii. rtli.1 marble,
-_u,:l i- ,- 1-.d I.: build [h- C -_pi.:,i ;it \\- !shing-
i,;,i. i rdi iD b,.j i, u-:.i thlIe r ,ld :o'.i. r ,*.n:i, day.
In i iL :L, ,b.:li d: n,-iqit iL e t'.:.. c -i-,r:d ail along
western Vermont, Massachusetts, and Connecticut;
and when the earth's crust became folded up in
great wrinkles and the ocean disappeared, soil
spread rapidly over these beds, and trees and
shrubs grew upon it. There for whole ages it
lay in the ground until the earth was no longer
young but was old; until after countless years
man was created; until after hundreds and thou-
sands of years of living in caves, tents, or houses
built of mud, men in America began to build
houses of wood, brick, and stone; and these beds
were undiscovered even until more than three hun-
dred years after America was discovered by Colum-
bus; then marble was needed and men began to
quarry it as will be described.
At the Vermont quarries, shown in the first
picture, the marble lies in the hillside in the form
of layers or beds, of from one to several feet in
thickness, some of the beds being pure white,







A MARBLE QUARRY.


while others are gray, bluish, or greenish in color
and often beautifully mottled or veined. These
layers are not all equally good marble, nor do
they lie horizontally one on top the other. They
are steeply inclined like a great pile of planks that
have fallen over endwise, the upper ends forming
what is now the natural surface of the ground.
Theworkmenselectplaces
where several of the best F- 7
layers are lying together,
and begin quarrying out
the stone, following the
beds deeper and deeper
into the ground until at
last the quarries come to
be great artificial caves,
like this one. Some
of these quarries are
nearly two hundred feet
deep, and are partly
roofed over to keep out
rain and snow. On even
the hottest and driest
days it is always cool
and damp down at the
bottom of the quarry. f P
Indeed, the water is so
plentiful that steam
pumps are kept at work '
night and day to pump
out the water which
trickles slowly through '
crevices in the rocks.
Some old, abandoned
quarries become great ', -
wells quite full of water;
and from them no more
stone can be taken until
they have been pumped
dry again.
Down in the quarries
the men are at work with Ii"
steam drills, cutting out ,"
the stone in huge blocks. ,
These are drawn to the
surface by means ofsteam
derricks and wire cables.
They are then put on rail-
road cars and shipped
away immediately, or they
may be first taken to the
shops near by (shown in
the other picture) where they are sawed into thin
slabs for floors, mantels, grave-stones, and so on,
or turned on lathes into beautiful columns, or cut
into square blocks for building houses, or perhaps
sent to some sculptor to be carved into the statues
he has modeled. But only the finest and whitest


marble can be used for statues, and nearly all of it
is brought from celebrated quarries in Italy.
Even now we sometimes find fossil shells or
corals imbedded in the solid rock, and we know
they could have come there only when the stone
was soft and mud-like. In the black marble tiles
forming the floors of the National Museum at


A VERMONT MARBLE QUAIRV.

Washington may occasionally be seen white spiral
outlines of some of these shell-fish, now dead these
millions of years; and perhaps many of you have
walked over them without reflecting that the firm
rock they stood upon was once soft mud in the
depths of an ocean.


---









THE LETTER-BOX.


CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the 15th of September, manuscripts can-
not conveniently be examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the
magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.


A COURTEOUS correspondent criticizes a statement
made in "The Land of Pluck," in the May ST. NICH-
OLAS, concerning the so-called "Hook and Codfish War."
But the author did not intend to convey the idea that the
war was due exclusively to the incident described. Ac-
cording to some historians that trivial dispute was the
spark that fired the already combustible material, though
the war between classes was inevitable with or without
that episode.
Still, another and probably better explanation of the
terms Hoek and Kabbeljaanw is given in the interesting
letter of our kindly critic, Mr. Adrian Van Helden, "a
Hollander by birth and education," who says:
"Modern historians are of opinion that the diagonal
squares of blue and silver, resembling fish-scales, which
constituted the livery worn by the adherents of Count
William (who led the cities and middle classes in their
struggle for greater liberty and influence against the
nobility) caused that party to be known as Codfishes;
while, "in retaliation, the nobles were called Hooks, be-
cause they tried to entrap and catch those clever fishes."


READERS of Saleh Bin Osman's quaint account of his
life, and of Mr. E. J. Glave's interesting article concern-
ing him, will be glad to see this letter from a Brooklyn
girl, telling how she met Saleh after one of Mr. Stanley's
lectures:
BROOKLYN, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Not the least remarkable of the
party accompanying Mr. Stanley is his faithful young
Zanzibari attendant, Saleh Bin Osman. Through the
African forests with his leader, a helper and a comrade
in the darkest days of the long march to Emin Pasha,
faithful and honorable was Saleh to his chief. And
now he has joined his fate with that of his master, and
is as loyal as in the dreariest hours of the long march.
The world is small after all. Not many months have
passed since we heard that Stanley was fighting his way
through the dark African swamp; then we learned of his
rescue of Emin Pasha, and safe arrival at Zanzibar; and
now in our city we have seen Mr. Stanley and heard the
great explorer's own description of his journey.
After the lecture, having expressed to our friend Mr.
Glave, a wish to talk with Saleh, we went toward the green-
room, where Saleh was waiting. Upon hearing his name
called, the boy came quickly forward. After a few words
with Mr. Glave in an African language, Saleh smiled
pleasantly at me and was presented. Saleh was in or-
dinary dress, except that he wore the Oriental fez.
He speaks English fairly well. I handed him a flower
from my bouquet, and the gift was courteously acknow-
ledged. He looked at me for an instant, and turning
to Mr. Glave spoke again in his native tongue. After-
ward I learned that he said he was not accustomed to
such consideration from Americans. Saleh says that lie
receives a great deal more respect in London than in
New York.
Bright as a button is the African lad; he converses
readily, and his expressions are clear and often humor-


ous. He has since then visited our house several times
with Mr. Glave.
Saleh is always neat and most particular as to his
dress. The glistening collar and cuffs are never blem-
ished; his straight, rather chunky figure is usually clad
neatly in black, while the red fez rests upon his dark
head. He has made rapid progress in his English edu-
cation, both in conversation and in writing. Sometimes
in the midst of some exciting narrative he will suddenly
stop, gaze with piercing eyes at the ceiling, muttering
the while, Oh, what you call that word ? But some-
how or other he is sure to find the missing term, and
once more plunges forward. Loyalty, honor, and gener-

osity dwell within his boyish heart, and he advances
rapidly under careful teaching.
We greatly respect the faithful young Zanzibari, and
wish him happiness and prosperity. NETTIE S- .


WASHINGTON, D. C.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I will tell your readers some-
thing about the United States Fish Commission, here in
Washington. The object of the commission is to stock
with fish the various rivers of the country, and to make
scientific inquiry as to the habits, etc., and ascertain where
the best fishing grounds are. Every spring the commis-
sion raise small shad at the building here in Washington.
As is known by most of the readers of ST. NICHOLAS,
the shad, like other fish, only spawns i. e., lays its eggs
- once a year, in its season, which is between the months
of April and July. It is at this time that the commis-
sion secures the eggs. There is a station on the Potomac
River about ten miles south of Washington, where the
shad are caught in large nets and the eggs are extracted
from the fish. The eggs are now sent to the main
station in Washington in egg crates," which are made
especially for them. Upon arriving at Washington they
are put into hatching-jars. Water is kept running
through these jars by a pump. The jars are all con-
nected with each other by pipes. The eggs, being com-
paratively heavy, sink to the bottom of the jars and thus
escape running out at the pipe openings. All that is
needed to hatch the eggs is the constant flow of water.
The time of hatching is from three to four days. When
the eggs hatch, the shad is only a half-inch long. They
are then put in cans and sent by express to various
parts of the country to be put in rivers and thus stock
them. Your devoted reader, HENRY R-


CARTHAGE, MO.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am eleven years old and my
brother is twelve. We live on a farm and have very nice
times together. There have been several strange events
here where we live. I 'll relate one. It was but a few
days before Thanksgiving, therefore it was turkey-catch-
ing time. One evening all the men but papa were out
catching them,-he was sitting with mama at the supper-
table. A turkey, in wild fear for his life, seeing their light,
flew for it, and actually went right through a pane of
glass and alighted in a platter in front of papa, who car-
ried him out. He came with such force that he scat-
tered glass for thirty feet. Your interested reader,
M. B. K- .






THE LETTER-BOX.


CANTERBURY ROAD, OXFORD, ENGLAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little American girl.
I am seven years old. We have been staying in Oxford
for several months. Some of the greatest colleges in
the world are here. Christ Church is the largest col-
lege; the gentleman that wrote "Alice in Wonderland"
is there. I have been to Wadham College kitchen; we
saw there an old-fashioned spit with a big joint of mutton
roasting on it; the draught in the chimney turns a fan,
which turns a chain, which turns the spit. At the side
of the great chimney there is a little recess where they
used in olden times to tie a dog who turned the spit.
One day we went to the top of the Radcliffe Library,
where we saw the spires, steeples, and towers; it was
very beautiful, for my mama tells me that except in old
Rome there are not so many beautiful buildings in any
city as in Oxford. One of the towers of Christ Church
is called "Tom Tower," and in the top hangs "Old
Tom." It is a very large bell, that even mama cannot
reach around with her arms; it strikes one hundred and
one times at nine o'clock in the evening, and then every
student must be in his own college. The students have
to wear the cap and gown.
We saw some boat races called the Torpids; they are
so called because of their slowness compared with the
Oxford and Cambridge boat race. The coaches are men
that run along on the river side and tell the men in the
boats how to row. But the coach of the 'Varsity crew
rides on a horse to keep up with them, because they go
so quickly. I am your admiring little reader,
JANEY W-.

CHICAGO.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you about
my trip south with my grandmother. I had been kept
in the house all winter with the whooping-cough, and
she thought going away to a warm climate, where I could
be out of doors, would do me good.
I went first to St. Augustine, where we stayed three
weeks and had a very nice time. We went to the Hotel
San Marco and had a beautiful view of the ocean from our
windows. We went to walk one day over to the old fort,
Fort Marion. We saw the moat and the drawbridge,
and the dungeon where they used to keep the prisoners.
This is an old Spanish fort and is not used now. The
Spaniards called it Fort San Marco, but when the Ameri-
cans took it they changed the name to Fort Marion.
I saw a great many oranges growing on the trees, and
the gray moss looked very strange; it looked like tangled
silk hanging on the limbs of the trees.
There was a little girl who used to come every evening
to the hotel with a basket of orange blossoms, and roses,
and violets to sell, and I used to go very often to play in
a lovely garden which belonged to a friend of my grand-
mother's. She let me play in the garden and pick the
flowers just as I wanted to, lovely roses and violets.
A very handsome hotel is the Ponce de Leon, named
after the man who was always searching for the Fountain
of Youth.
On our way north we stayed one night and a day in
Savannah, and one day in Augusta, then two or three
days in Nashville, and one day in Cincinnati, and then
home. From your little reader,
KATHARINE LAY MC- .


SAN LUIS OBISPO, CAL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a Californian girl; I have
always lived here and have never been out of the State.
We live a mile and a half from town on a vineyard called
"La Ladera." The house is on a hill and the view of the
mountains and of the town is beautiful; travelers often
come up to see it. From the town running northwest to


the ocean are seven tall peaks. The first is the San Luis
Mountain, the second Bishop's Peak, and the last is a huge
rock standing in the bay and called Morro Rock.
We have three dogs. The largest and handsomest is
called Tito; he is black with a white collar and tail. The
next is Topsy; she is a very bright one. The smallest is
Mr. Boffin. They are very fond of going to walk up the
mountain.
I have taken you for six years and think you the best
magazine printed.
I am your constant reader, ALICE V. B. H- .


KEY TO THE MUSICAL PUZZLE STORY PRINTED IN THE
JULY ST. NICHOLAS.
Ed Brace was such a strange little boy, that until he
reached the age of one decade his friends all feared that
he never would turn out a sharp man. His head was
full of crotchets, and among them was one very bad one,
viz.: a determination not to learn his a, b, c. He would
run away to catch dace in the brook, and pretend to be
deaf when they called him to learn his lessons. His
father said, "Ed is either a natural or a flat; I have
little hope of him, as he shows no signs of intelligence."
One day Farmer Brace called his son, and said, I want a
measure of corn from the mill. Here is a note to the miller.
When he learns the tenor of it, he will give you the corn
without any fee, as I cannot trust you with the money.
Put the corn in this bag, tie it with this cord, and hold it
tight." Ed set off, but when he had gone about an eighth
of the way, he saw old Abe, a superannuated cab horse,
grazing in a field near by. The boy climbed the bars
with ease, and began to feed old Abe with apples; then
mounting on his back he began to beat him with a staff
which he carried in his hand. The horse started on a
quick run across the field, and the boy was several times
within an ace of falling off, when suddenly Abe pitched
him over his head into a bee's nest. A bee stung him in
the face, which began to swell rapidly. His cries rose in
a wailing crescendo until they reached their loudest for-
tissimo. Farmer Gaf, who was plowing in a neighboring
field, calling "gee" to his oxen, and trying to make them
take an accelerando gait in place of their usual rallen-
tando movement, now came to the bars and said to the
boy, "I thought you were dead until I heard you scream.
What are you doing in this quarter?"
"Father bade me go to the mill," he replied, "but I
wanted to run away, cross the high seas, scale lofty
mountains, and treble my fortune! "
You must be off your base," replied the farmer. "Go
home and let your mother put you to bed."
The boy's cries, having passed through all stages of
diminuendo and piano, now reached theirfinale. "Yes,
I will," replied Ed. "I am fagged out, but I shake
and quaver somewhat at the prospect of my punish-
ment. Perhaps father will tie me up, and gag me, but
the result of this adventure will last the rest of my life;
it will neverfade from my memory, and I am sure I shall
not wish to repeat it."
That's right, sonny," answered the farmer. "Be
sharp, be natural, but don't be flat!"


BERLIN.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Jack and I thought perhaps
your readers might like to hear about Von Moltke's fu-
neral from some one who had seen it,as we did yesterday.
General von Moltke died very suddenly, after a busy
day, for, although he was ninety-one years old, he had
been to two public meetings and entertained friends at
dinner in the evening of the day he died.
The American flag was the first one to be put at half-


805






THE LETTER-BOX.


mast; all the German flags, as well as those of all other
nations, were half-masted in his honor the next day
throughout Berlin.
The Emperor was away from the city on a visit, but
was telegraphed for, and returned immediately.
Although Von Moltke was a great general and a very
celebrated man, he lived very quietly; but it was decided
after his death to bury him with all the honors of a king.
The night he died a number of the commanding gen-
erals watched over his body, and the three days before he
was buried there was a military guard stationed in the
room where the body lay.
The room and the house itself were filled with flowers
brought by friends and fellow-officers.
All who wished to do so were allowed to see his body.
We stood waiting in the crowd and scorching sun two
whole hours before the funeral, but the military display
and the whole pageant were well worth the trouble.
First came the Garde du Corps," allin white, on horse-
back (the Emperor's bodyguard), then more cavalry, the
Red, White, and Black Hussars, the Potsdam Regiment
(soldiers of the old Emperor), then the hearse, which was
the one used for the old Emperor and for his son.
The hearse was drawn by six horses draped in black;
it was open, and on a high mass of flowers was the coffin,
over which hung two long garlands of flowers.
On each side of the hearse walked three officers (pall-
bearers) carrying large wreaths, and beside these the
members of his household; behind came six or eight
priests, and then the Emperor on foot, with the King of
Saxony, both in full uniform.
Then followed crowds of officers, all walking, and the
procession came to an end with students in their univer-
sity garb and state officials in civilians' clothes.
Von Moltke was buried by the side of his wife (who
died twenty-three years ago), on his own estate at Krei-
sau, about four hours' ride from Berlin.
The Emperor and King followed him to the grave.
I saw Von Moltke about a month ago out driving. He
had a kind face, but looked his age.
I forgot to mention that Bismarck sent a beautiful
wreath, but was not at the funeral, although a warm per-
sonal friend.
Your constant readers, E. and J. B-- .


CHICAGO.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I thought you might like to hear
about a fresh-water crab or crawfish.
At this time of the year the crabs dig holes and back
into them, so it was hard for me to get one. But at last
I got one and put it in a dish of water.
It was rather stupid, and so I did n't cover it.
In the middle of the night mama heard it fall out of the
dish and go crawling around on the floor.
In the morning before I got dressed we tried to find
the crab, but we could n't find it anywhere. So I started
to put on my shoe and I could n't get my foot in the toe.
I thought the lining was rumpled, and so I put my hand
in, and there was the crab as surprised as I was.
I suppose he thought he had found a hole ready made.
Yours truly, ADAH W- .


NEW YORK.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Would you like to hear a little
of my journey to Alaska last summer ? We took a large
steamer at Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, called
the "Queen." We had a fine large stateroom with three


berths and a sofa in it, and we sailed about three thousand
miles in the most comfortable manner. We touched at
several curious Indian villages, where we saw the Indian
women making silver bracelets and rings. They were
sitting on the ground and wore bright-colored blankets
over their heads. They also weave very curious baskets
made from the bark ofa tree.
We saw a boarding-school at Sitka, where the large
boys played for us on the brass band. Then we saw a
large frozen river named the Muir Glacier. The color
of it is a beautiful bright blue, and every few minutes
great pieces of ice fall off with a sound like thunder.
We took all the ice for the use of the steamer from the
glacier. While our steamer was waiting at the glacier,
Indians came up to us in little canoes or dugouts, with
baskets and skins to sell. There was one little boy
dressed in an entire suit of white underclothes. He
looked very cold, and we saw that his teeth chattered,
and we wished very much that some one would put a
blanket over him, which his'mother finally did.
We sailed past beautiful snow-covered mountains, and
after touching at Juneau, Sitka, and Fort Wrangel, we
sailed back to Victoria. We had a very interesting trip.
I hope that many others will be fortunate enough to take
the same journey. I am your little friend,
LILY M--

MORGANFIELD, KY.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : We are five little boys and ten
little girls who have just begun reading you. Our teacher
introduced you to us, for she loved and read you when she
was little. We have read "Elfie's Visit to Cloudland,"
David and Goliath," and we have read all the letters in
the Letter-box, but have seen none from Kentucky. We
Kentuckians are very proud of our beautiful ladies, fine
horses, and the greatest natural wonder in the world, the
Mammoth Cave, but not so proud of the state's great
distilleries !
We are known as Miss Maine's Room, and our names
are:


ANNA MAY C.
EDNA L.
BERRY C.
ADDIE BECK W.
MARY C.
WILLIS B.
ROBERT R.


BLANTON A.


STELLA R.
MAMIE TATE C.
J. V. C.
BETTIE C.
CAMILLE B.
SALLIE F.
CASWELL McE.


AFTER the July number of ST. NICHOLAS was on the
press, correct answers to the "What Is It? question
printed in the Jack-in-the-Pulpit department of the ST.
NICHOLAS for April, were received from Caroline B. S.,
Margie F., Hortense H.


WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: Aubrey G., Blanche
and Posy, Elsa and Gretchen Van H., Georgie H. and
Marie T., N. J. S., Willie K., M. K., Waddell K., F.
K. Travers W., Charlotte and Jeanette, Florence H. H.,
Harry A., Aubrey H.W., Bertha C., F. A. D., Ethel
Leslie, Mamie L. S., Edith, Maud and May, Perseus,
William J. H., Edward A., David R., Jr., Jeannie F.,
Elsie P., Joseph J., John McV. H., Florence W., Ethel
R., May V., Edith B., Kittie B., Edythe P. R., Frances
M., A. D. D., Nellie H. McC., Clare H., H. W. T.,
Walter S.


806








ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.
DIAMOND. I. B. 2. Ale. 3. Adore. 4. Blomary. 5. Erase. SOME GEOGRAPHICAL QUESTIONS. I. Turkey. 2. Cork. 3.Jer-
6. Ere. 7. Y. sey. 4. Oil. 5. Orange. 6. Cologne. 7. Leghorn. 8. Cod. 9. Bris-
STAR PUZZLE. From ii to to, Danton; 2 to ix, Arnold; 2 to 12, tol. xo. Snake. ii. Sable. 12. Ulster. 13. Bismarck. 14. Shanghai.
Adrian; 4 to 12, Hudson; 4 to 13, Handel; 13 to 6, Lytton; 6 to 15. Hamburg and Astrakan. 16. Atlas. 17. Darling. 18. Mosquito.
I4, Napier; 8 to 14, Taylor (Bayard); 8 to 15, Titian; 15 to o1, The sun hangs calm at summer's poise;
Newton. From i to so, Washington. The earth lies bathed in shimmering noon,
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Bunker Hill. Cross-words : i. roBin. At rest from all her cheerful noise,
2. yoUng. 3. baNks. 4. liKen. 5. drEss. 6. caRol. 7. asHes. With heartstrings silently in tune.
8. quiet. 9. hoLly. to. hiLly. The time, how beautiful and dear,
NOVL WORD-SUARE. Ghast. Haste 3. Aster. Stern. When early fruits begin to blush,
NOVEL WOR-SQUARE. Gast. Haste. 3. Aster. 4 Stern. And the full leafage of the year
5. Terns. Sways o'er them with a sheltering hush.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. "We join ourselves to no party that does PRIMAL ACRTIC. Banda. Cross-words: Bonito. 2. An-
not carry the flag and keep step to the music of the Union. them. 3. Nickel. 4. Defile. 5. Anubis.
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Independence Day. HIDDEN DIAMONDS. I. From i to 12, George Cuvier. Cross-
RHOMBOID. Across: i. Tables. 2. Siesta. 3. Natant. 4. Forger. words: I. Gorgons. 2. Parsees. 3. Belabor. 4. Inciter. 5. Aver-
5. Pellet. 6. Seldom. age. 6. Stupefy. 7. Bacchus. II. From i to 12, Thomas Edison.
WORD-BUILDING. .. I. 2. I. 3. Ino. 4. Iron. 5. Groin. Cross-words : r. Neptune. 2. Panther. 3. Horizon. 4. Stadium.
6. Trigon. 7. Rioting. 8. Ratioing. 9. Migration. o0. Emigra- 5. Bifilar. 6. Madison. 7. Euterpe.
tion. ix. Germination.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS "Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May i5th, from Paul Reese-Mama and Jamie-
"Infantry"-" The McG.'s"- Blanche and Fred Rebecca M. Huntington -E. M. G.-" Hawkeye "-Josephine Sherwood -" The
Wise Five "- Sara L. R.--Nellie L. Hawes Uncle Mung Ida Carleton Thallon.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May isth, from G. I. Shirley, i -" Sister," 2 Elaine S., 3- Clara
B. Orwig, 7 Pearl F. Stevens, 6 Effie K. Talboys, 4 -" Fox," 3- Mama and Marion, 4 Mary, Agnes, Julia, and Ella, x -" May
and '79," 7 Estelle, Clarendon, and C. Ions, I Grace C. Sargent, I -" Charles Beaufort," o-- No name, New York, i- Freddie
Sutro, 4-" King Anso IV.," 7- Carrie K. Thacher, 3- W. W. L., -" Rychie de Rooster," 7- Alice M. Blanke and sister, 9 -
lo and I, 1o--Mama, Olive, and Kate, 4-"The Nutshell," 9-Elizabeth Moore, 2.


I. I. A TRACT of soft, wet ground. 2. The East. 3. One
who rids. 4. A Roman magistrate. 5. Parts of fishing-
lines. 6. Urgency.
II. I. A large flat fish. 2. A person who lends money
at an exorbitant rate of interest. 3. A famous Italian
tenor. 4. An inhabitant of a certain country. 5. A daugh-
ter of the river-god Cebren, and wife of Paris. 6. Tri-
gons. ELDRED JUNGERICH.

DROPPED LETTERS.

INSERT letters in place of the stars, in each of the
nine following sentences. When all the words are
rightly completed, select from each of the sentences a
word of five letters. When these nine words have been
rightly guessed, and placed one below the other, the
central letters, reading downward, will spell a name
given to the first day of August.
I. S*o*t f*l*y a* i* f*i*s.
2. S*a*e t*e r*d a*d s*o*l t*e c*i*d.
3. D*a*h c*m*s w"t*o"t c*l*i*g.
4. H*m*n b*o*d i* o* o*e c*l*r.
5. I* i* v*r* h*r* t* s*a'e a* e*g.
6. H*s*e m*k*s w*s*e.
7. L*i*g r*d*s o" d*b*s b*c*.
8. D*p*n*e*c* i* a p*o* t*a*e.
9. O*t o* p*c*e" i* o*t o* s*y*e.
"MR. FEZZIWIG."

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

MY primals name a humorist, and my finals the hero
of one of his books.
CROSS-WORDS: I. To ascend. 2. A prefix to many
words, implying imperfection. 3. A domain. 4. De-


prives of life. 5. A bone of the leg. 6. A woman
whose husband is dead. 7. To make use of. 8. A
feminine name. 9. The point opposite the zenith.
"MAY BELLE."
STAR PUZZLE.


17 18 8 9


6 2
6 10
S 3:


IS 14


12 iI


a13

FROM 7 to 8, a recess; from 8 to 9, a treatise; from
9 to Io, a pleasure-boat; from Io to II, insnares; from
II to 12, to declare upon oath; from 12 to 13, to send
back; from 13 to 14, to mark; from 14 to 15, a support
for a picture; from 15 to 16, a person afflicted with a
certain disease; from 16 to 17, furious; from 17 to 18,
to delay; from 18 to 7, a fortification; from 7 to I, the
goddess of retribution; from 2 to 9, an ancient science
which aimed to transmute metals into gold; from 3 to II,
gardening implements ; from 4 to 13, erect; from 15 to
5, a yellowish varnish; from 17 to 6, to perceive; from
I to 6, the father of Jupiter. "TIDDLEDY-WINKS."






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


DIAMOND.

I. IN ants. 2. Skill. 3. Odd. 4. The twin sister
of Apollo. 5. Fearful. 6. A famous epic poem. 7. In
ants. A. P. C. ASHHURST.
PI.

HET stercal pipopes sculter yb eht doar,
Het segewnip shystec safhl ni eht langlif sargs,
Dan binglemur gasnow, hitw thire hevay doal,
Lango het study wahshigy, nigengril, saps
Ni sarveth mite.

Ho, ontubeous soneas, chir thruhog veery rouh
Ni stigf hatt keam rou slous hwit yoj a-nute;
Hte flutifur thare si shavil fo reh derow,
Romf gromsinn shulf lilt wogls het welloy mono,
Ni vasreth emit.

HALF-SQUARE.

I. AN aquatic, wading bird. 2. A combination.
3. Uproar. 4. Hazard. 5. A printer's measure. 6. In
wading. POLLY W.
GEOGRAPHICAL ACROSTIC.

THE words described are of unequal length, but when
rightly guessed, and placed one below the other, the
third row of letters will spell a name for Philomel.
I. The capital of Siam. 2. A city in Connecticut. 3. A
famous island. 4. A seaport of Brazil. 5. A city on
the Arkansas river. 6. A populous country of Asia. 7. A
mountain-chain in China. 8. A country of Asia. 9. An
inland sea. Io. A desert of South Africa. I A large
bay of South Australia. LAURA J. AND SADIE B.

MYTHOLOGICAL CUBE.
I


FROM 'I to 2, the wife of Amphion; from 2 to 4, one
of the Muses; from 4 to 7, a handsome giant and hunter,
son of Hyrieus; from I to 3, a nymph of streams and
springs; from 3 to 6, the goddess of hunting; from 6 to
7, a certain Greek bard who is often represented as rid-
ing on the back of a dolphin; from 2 to 5, a son of Pano-


peus; from 3 to 5, a famous island in the 2Egean Sea;
from 5 to 7, a sea-nymph. CYRIL DEANE.

BEHEADINGS.
I. I. BEHEAD a trace, and leave a place of refuge.
2. Behead unreal, and leave to divide. 3. Behead a cord,
and leave a tree. 4. Behead a knot, and leave a geo-
metrical figure. 5. Behead a fruit, and leave to rove at
large. 6. Behead nothing, and leave something.
The beheaded letters spell the name of a poet.
II. I. Behead a charioteer, and leave a pleasant feature
in a landscape. 2. Behead to raise, and leave part of the
head. 3. Behead to desire, and leave to acquire by labor.
4. Behead a famous explorer, and leave a farming imple-
ment. 5. Behead an incident, and leave to utter. 6. Be-
head nothing, and leave should.
The beheaded letters spell the name of a poet.
L. AND E.
A CHARADE.
MY first, a word most near to every heart;
My next, a very large and heavy cart;
My last, an implement that makes a bed;
My whole, a story widely loved and read.
MIRIAM W. G. (TEN YEARS OLD.)

DOUBLE SQUARES.


* *
* *
* X**


I. ACROSS: I. A South American quadruped. 2. In-
formed, 3. An idolater. 4. Incensed. 5. To rejuvenate.
. INCLUDED SQUARE: I. Strife. 2. A Turkish com-
mander. 3. A quadruped.
II. ACROSS: I. Treatment. 2. Rest. 3. One of the
Harpies. 4. Very cold. 5. Part of an ode.
INCLUDED SQUARE: I. Sediment. 2. A measure of
length. 3. A masculine name. "XELIS."
A LITERARY NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I AM composed of sixty-two letters, and am a quotation
from one of Shakspere's plays.
My 51-42-21-11-28 is a famous poem. My 62-3-22-
57 is a famous German philosopher. My 37-60-44 -15-
40-9 is the title of a novel by a famous Scotch author.
My 23-33-49-38-7-16 is an illustrious German poet.
My 2-19-53-47-32 is his most widely read work. My
54-30-22 is a goddess in the Norse mythology. My 46-
41-34-48-14-22 is the surname of the author of" Per-
suasion." My 17-52-35-8 is the name of an English
poet and critic. My 26-25-59-45-18-5 is a living Ameri-
can poet. My 13-36-61-50-56-39-58-12-6-24 is an Eng-
lish poet, who, in 1802, married Mary Hutchinson. My
10-4-27-55 is the name signed to many delightful essays.
My 43-29-1-31-20 is the subject of a poem by Burns.
A. AND M.


THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.




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