Front Cover
 The battle on skates
 The admiral's caravan
 A valentine
 Historic dwarfs
 A South American hunt
 Tom Paulding
 A year with Dolly
 Strange corners of our country
 The little man in the orchestr...
 The winning of vanella
 The elf and the dormouse
 Electric lights at sea
 When I was your age
 Two girls and a boy
 Crooked Dick
 Shoe play
 A record of Master Harry's ups...
 Cuddle down, dolly
 Electricite bien appliquee
 From "Fido"
 The card castle
 The new toy and the clock
 The music box
 The letter-box
 The riddle box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00251
 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
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
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: VID00251
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
        Page 242
    The battle on skates
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
    The admiral's caravan
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
    A valentine
        Page 253
    Historic dwarfs
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
    A South American hunt
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
    Tom Paulding
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
    A year with Dolly
        Page 273
    Strange corners of our country
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
    The little man in the orchestra
        Page 278
        Page 279
    The winning of vanella
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
    The elf and the dormouse
        Page 286
    Electric lights at sea
        Page 287
        Page 288
    When I was your age
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
    Two girls and a boy
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
    Crooked Dick
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
    Shoe play
        Page 307
    A record of Master Harry's ups and downs
        Page 308
        Page 309
    Cuddle down, dolly
        Page 310
    Electricite bien appliquee
        Page 311
    From "Fido"
        Page 312
        Page 313
    The card castle
        Page 314
    The new toy and the clock
        Page 315
    The music box
        Page 315
    The letter-box
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
    The riddle box
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

SJh- 7






THREE faces peered out of the window
across the common to where the pond lay
dark and calm in the clear moonlight. A
number of people were skating upon its smooth
The faces were wistful and disappointed
ones, for the children longed to join the skaters,
but mama had said they must stay in, because
they had been out all day.
Mr. and Mrs. Hosted had gone to a wed-
ding, and the children did not know how to
pass this long, dreary evening.
Edith, the oldest, pouted and declared that it
was mean; Walter was teasing the cat to relieve
his injured feelings; while Mollie nestled up to
Edith, lovingly, and was silent.
Children, come here," called a soft voice.
At the sound their faces brightened, and
quickly they went to the sitting-room whence
the voice proceeded. It was Aunt Ella who
called. The jolliest aunt in the world-al-
ways ready for fun or a game, or even to tell
a story,- she could fly a kite and shoot mar-
bles 'most as well as a boy, invent new fashions
for dolls, and run a race. She was, in the eyes
of the children, a paragon, and to be adored.

She had been ill with headache during the day,
and the children had been kept away from her;
but now they eagerly rushed into the room.
She sat in an easy-chair by the grate, and the
glowing bed of coals threw a dim light into the
room- half redeeming it from darkness. After
they had greeted her, she said:
"What is the matter,-Edith? You are so
quiet. Don't you feel well? "
Yes, I 'm well. But mama won't let us go
out. The other girls are going and we can't.
The ice is just right, too." The tone in which
Edith spoke betrayed how near she was to tears.
I 'm sure mama is right, dear," said Aunt
Ella. "Hear how the wind blows. It is very
cold, and while this weather lasts you will have
plenty of such fun. What are you going to do
this evening, while your mother is away ? "
Nothing," came the answer in a disconso-
late voice.
"Then, listen; I have a story to tell you.
Just sit down near the fire and I will begin."
Let it be a truly story, Auntie," pleaded
"Yes, dear."
Quickly they prepared to listen. Mollie, be-

Copyright, 1892, by THE CENTURY CO. All rights reserved.


No. 4.


cause she was the youngest, crept into Aunt
Ella's lap; Edith nestled by her side on an
ottoman, and Walter, stretched full length upon
the hearth-rug, stared intently into the fire.
Surveying the expectant trio, Aunt Ella began:

Once upon a time King Philip of Spain
went to war with Holland. You know where
Holland is, don't you ? It is a small country
in Europe, somewhat north of Germany. You

capture Haarlem. The city was almost sur-
rounded by water, then frozen over, as it was
winter. There were a few ships lying near
Haarlem, but they were held fast by the ice,
and might easily have been captured had not
the sailors dug a trench all around them, and
fortified them against the enemy.
As soon as Don Frederick arrived, he sent a
body of soldiers to attack the ships. The sol-
diers marched out to the vessels, but as they

r .. .. -. ^ ; F -, ; *. "

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remember the story, how a brave boy stopped
a leak in the dike in this same place; you
know, too, that the country is lower than the
sea-level and there have to be big walls, called
dikes, to keep the water from sweeping over
the land. This fight was a desperate one, for
King Philip was so eager to subdue the country
that he waged the war with all the means at his
command. He sent to Holland, as his com-
mander-in-chief, the Duke of Alva, a Spanish
nobleman and a famous general. After the war
had been going on a long time and many towns
had been seized, the Duke saw that if he could
take Amsterdam he could easily overcome the
rest of Holland,-but between Amsterdam and
the King's forces lay the city of Haarlem.
The Duke sent his son Don Frederick to

came near a body of armed men on skates
sprang from the trench.
The Hollanders were used to skating from
their very babyhood, for in winter the canals
and sea were frozen for miles around, and every-
body skated. Not only did they skate for fun,
but to market, and their daily business, just as
easily and far more quickly than they could walk.
They used to have games and sham battles on
the ice, so that when there was need for real
fighting, they knew what to do.
But the Spaniards lived in a southern country
where there is little ice, and they never went
sliding or skating. When they saw the Holland-
ers dart out at them, their feet shod with steel,
appearing almost to fly in the air, they thought
the enemy must be aided by witchcraft! They

.. 1 4-i




were tempted to run, such was their amazement
and terror.
However, when the bullets came flyingamong
them, they tried to pick up their courage and
fight. But their efforts were feeble, for, unable
to keep their footing on the slippery surface,
they would stumble and fall, while the Holland-
ers would glide by unharmed and send their bul-
lets to the mark.
The Hollanders were victorious; and, when
they drove the Spaniards off the ice, several hun-
dred of the enemy lay dead, while the conquer-
ors scarcely suffered any loss. When the Duke
heard of this defeat he was much surprised, and
decided that he would not be beaten again in
that way.
So he ordered seven thousand pairs of skates,
and commanded all the soldiers to learn to skate.
They had fun while learning, but not long after-
ward were able to handle their weapons on ice
as boldly as the Hollanders. But they had little
occasion to make use of this new accomplish-
ment, for a sudden thaw and flood made it
possible for the ships to sail away, and the sailors'
brave spirits were much cheered by the sudden
frost that followed and rendered them safe
from naval attack for a time.
The Spaniards soon after captured Haar-
lem, but they had to fight hard to take it, for
the city was well fortified and the people brave.


-I- i _

rV) -'

_1- 4 I

Reluctantly the children marched off to bed,
and in their dreams that night saw strange
visions in which ice, skates, ships, Spaniards
and Hollanders mingled in the wildest con-



I ;~~'1








[Begun in the December number.]
BEING in a garden full of flowers at Christ-
mas-time is a very fine thing; and Dorothy was
looking about with great delight, and wonder-
ing how it had all happened, when she sud-
denly caught sight of a big robin walking
along one of the paths, and examining the vari-
ous plants with an air of great interest. He
was a very big robin, indeed-in fact, he was
about as large as a goose, and he had on a gar-


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,-, '1b

.1 .. '
-,. '' : "

I '' *
/ I, ,',I-: r ',' i'' ,

markable thing about him was that he was walk-
ing about with his hands in his waistcoat-pockets.
Dorothy had never seen a robin do this before,
and she was looking at him in great astonish-
ment, when he chanced to turn around to take
a particular look at a large flower, and she saw
that he had two caterpillars embroidered on the
back of his waistcoat forming the letters B. S.
"Now I wonder what B. S. means," she
said to herself with her usual curiosity. It
stands for Brown Sugar, but of course it can't
be that. Perhaps it means Best Suit, or Bird
Superintendent, or-or-why it must mean

_'2 I




dener's hat, and a bright red waistcoat which Bob Scarlet, to be sure!" and clapping her
he was wearing unbuttoned so as to give his hands in the joy of this discovery, she ran after
fat little chest plenty of room; but the most re- the Robin to take a nearer look at him.



But Bob Scarlet proved to be a very difficult
person to get near to. Over and over again
Dorothy caught sight of the top of his hat beyond
a hedge, or saw the red waistcoat through the
bushes; but no matter how quickly she stole
around to the spot, he was always gone before
she got there, and she would see the hat or the
waistcoat far away in another part of the garden,
and would hurry after him only to be disap-
pointed as before. She was getting very tired
of this, and was
walking around
rather discon-
solately, when
she happened to
look at one of
the plants and '
discovered that -' .
little sunbonnets
were growing
on it in great *' '
profusion, like '. :.
white lilies; and .,
this was such a .
delightful dis- --
covery that she .
instantly forgot ,
all about Bob
Scarlet, and she
started away in -
great excitement '---
to examine the
other plants.
There was a
them, and theGR
them, and they

all were of the sa
sides the bonnet-bui
down with little
small shoes growing
and delicate vines
soms on them, and
Dorothy, a row o
a crisp little frock g
upside down.
"They 're only b
tered Dorothy, as s
other; "but, of cou
it 's what they ca

fancy-" she exclaimed, stopping short and
clasping her hands in a rapture, "just fancy
going out to pick an apronful of delightful
new stockings, or running out every day to see
if your best frock is ripe-yet! And I 'm sure
I don't know what she would have said next,
but just at this moment she caught sight of
a paper lying in the path before her, and, of
course, immediately became interested in that.
It was folded something like a lawyer's docu-


me curious character. Be- ment, and was very neatly marked in red ink
sh, there were plants loaded MEMORUMDRUMS"; and after looking
pinafores, and shrubs with at it curiously for a moment, Dorothy said to
g all over them, like peas, herself, "It 's probably a wash-list; nothing but
of thread with button blos- two aprons, and four HDKeffs, and ten towels
I, what particularly pleased -there 's always such a lot of towels, you
If pots marked "FROCK know," and here she picked up the paper; but
each containing a stalk with instead of being a wash-list, she found it con-
rowing on it, like a big tulip tained these verses:

ig enough for dolls," chat- Have Angleworms attractive homes ?
he hurried from one to the Do Bumblebees have brains ?
rse, they '11 grow. I s'pose Do Caterpillars carry combs ?
1ll a nursery-garden. Just Do Ducks dismantle drains?


Can Eels elude elastic earls ?
Do Flatfish fish forflats ?
Are Grigs agreeable to girls ?
Do Hares have hunting-hats?
Do Ices make an Ibex ill ?
Do Jackdaws jug their jam ?
Do Kites kiss all the kids they kill ?
Do Llamas live on lamb ?
Iill Moles molest a mounted mink
Do Newts deny the news ?
Are Oysters boisterous when they drink ?
Do Parrots prowl in pews ?
Do Quakers get their quills from quails ?
Do Rabbits rob on roads?
Are Snakes supposed to sneer at snails ?
Do Tortoises tease toads ?
Can Unicorns perform on horns ?
Do Vzpers value veal?
Do Weasels weep when fast asleep ?
Can Xylophagans squeal ?
Do Yaks in packs invite attacks ?
Are Zebras ful of zeal ?
P. S. Shake well and recite every
morning in a shady place.

I don't believe a single one of them, and I
never read such stuff!" exclaimed Dorothy,
indignantly; and she was just about to throw
down the paper when Bob Scarlet suddenly ap-
peared, hurrying along the path, and gazing
anxiously from side to side as if he had lost
something. As he came upon Dorothy, he
started violently, and said Shoo! with great
vehemence, and then, after staring at her a
moment, added, Oh, I beg your pardon I
thought you were a cat. Have you seen any-
thing of my exercise ? "
"Is this it ? said Dorothy, holding up the
That 's it," said the Robin, in a tone of
great satisfaction. Shake it hard, please."
Dorothy gave the paper a good shake, after
which Bob Scarlet took it and stuffed it into
his waistcoat-pocket, remarking, "It has to be
well shaken before I take it, you know."
"Is that the prescription ? said Dorothy,
beginning to laugh.
No, it 's the postscription," replied the
Robin, very seriously; "but, somehow, I never
remember it till I come to it. I suppose it 's

put at the end so that I won't forget it the next
time. You see, it's about the only exercise I
"I should think it was very good exercise,"
said Dorothy, trying to look serious again.
Oh, it 's good enough, what there is of it,"
said the Robin, in an off-hand way.
But I 'm sure there 's enough of it," said
"There is enough of it, such as it is," replied
the Robin.
Such as it is ? repeated Dorothy, beginning
to feel a little perplexed. "Why it's hard
enough, I 'm sure. It's enough to drive a
person quite distracted."
"Well, it 's a corker till you get used to it,"
said the Robin, strutting about. "There 's such
a tremendous variety to it, you see, that it exer-
cises you all over at once."
This was so ridiculous that Dorothy laughed
outright. I should never get used to it," she
said. "I don't believe I know a single one of
the answers."
"Ido! said Bob Scarlet proudly; "I know
'em all. It 's No' to everything in it."
Dear me !" said Dorothy, feeling quite pro-
voked at herself, "of course it is. I never
thought of that."
And when you can answer them," continued
the Robin, with a very important air, "you can
answer anything."
Now, as the Robin said this, it suddenly
occurred to Dorothy that she had been lost for
quite a long time, and that this was a good
opportunity for getting a little information, so
she said very politely: "Then I wish you 'd
please tell me where I am."
"Why, you 're here," replied the Robin
promptly. "That 's what I call an easy one."
But where is it ? said Dorothy.
"Where is what?" said the Robin, looking
rather puzzled.
"Why, the place where I am," said Dorothy.
"That's here, too," replied the Robin, and then,
looking at her suspiciously, he added, Come-
no chaffing, you know. I won't have it."
But I 'm not chaffing," said Dorothy, begin-
ning to feel a little provoked; it's only because
you twist the things I say the wrong way."
"What do you say 'em the wrong way for,



P *

i ,
; ""V.

fusing it all is!


- -

-1:t i i \ i
L r l': r rr

Lcir rne' -
claimed Dorothy, now
quite out of patience.
How dreadfully con-
t you understand I

only want to know where the place is where
I am now,-whereabouts in the geography, I
mean," she added in desperation.
"It is n't in there at all," said Bob Scarlet
very decidedly. "There is n't a geography
going that could hold on to it for five minutes."
Do you mean that it is n't anywhere ?" ex-
claimed Dorothy, beginning to feel a little
No, I don't," said Bob Scarlet obstinately.
"I mean that it is anywhere-anywhere that
it chooses to be, you know; only it does n't stay
anywhere any longer than it likes."
"Then I 'm going away," said Dorothy has-
tily. I won't stay in such a place."
"Well, you 'd better be quick about it," said
the Robin with a chuckle, or there won't be
any place to go away from. I can feel it begin-
ning to go now," and with this remark Bob
Scarlet himself hurried away. There was some-
thing so alarming in the idea of a place going
away and leaving her behind that Dorothy
started off at once as fast as she could run, and
indeed she was n't a moment too soon. The

. --.



DOROTHY was just drawing a long breath
over her narrow escape, when she discovered
the braided floor of the garden floating away
far above her head with the trunks of the trees
dangling from it like one-legged trousers. This
was rather a ridiculous spectacle, and when the
floor presently shriveled up and then went out
of sight altogether, she said, Pooh! very
contemptuously and felt quite brave again.
It was n't half so solemn as I expected,"
she went on, chattering to herself; I certainly
thought there would be all kinds of phenome-

garden itself was already
beginning to be very much
agitated, and the clothes
on the plants were folding
themselves up in a flutter-
ing sort of a way as she
ran past them; and she
noticed, moreover, that
the little shoes on the shoe-
shrub were so withered
away that they looked like
a lot of raisins. But she
had no time to stop and
look at such things, and
she ran on until she had
left the garden far be-


ners, and after all it's precisely like nothing but
an old basket blowing away. But it 's just as
well to be saved, of course, only I don't know
where I am any more than I did before. It 's
a kind of wooden floor, I think,"
she added, stamping on it with
her little shoe; "and, dear me! i
I verily believe it's nothing but a

i ,

/ ^-.- i,.J,,,.
i -

shelf. It is a shelf! she exclaimed, peeping cau-
tiously over the edge; "and there 's the real
floor ever so far away. I can never jump down
there in the world without being dashed t... .:1.
struction! "-and she was just thinking

suffocated. In fact, he was so black in the face
that she had to pound him on the back to bring
him to.
"We 're disguised, you know," said the Ad-
miral, breathlessly. We found these things
under the bed. Bob Scarlet is n't anywhere
about, is he ? he added, staring around in an
agitated manner through his spy-glass.
"About ? said Dorothy, trying to look seri-
ous. "I should think he was about five miles
from here by this time."
I wish it was five thousand," exclaimed Sir
Walter, angrily, smoothing down his frock.
"Old Peckjabber!"
"Why, what in the world is the matter?"
said Dorothy, beginning to laugh in spite of
"Matter!" exclaimed the Admiral, with his
voice trembling with emotion. "Why, look
here! We were all shrinking away to nothing in
that wanishing garden. Bob Scarlet himself was
no bigger than an ant when we came away."
"And we was n't any v1
bigger than uncl:-," ...t in ,
the Highlander. ,

I, .

how it would do to hang from the edge
of the shelf by her hands and then *
let herself drop (with her eyes shut, <. ., .. ..II
of course), when a little party of peo- .' ll
ple came tumbling down through the ," '1 i
air and fell in a heap close 4
beside her. She gave a scream i
of dismay and then stood .,-.
staring at them in utter be-
wilderment, for, as the party -
scrambled to their feet she
saw they were the Caravan, -
dressed up in the most ex-
traordinary fashion, in little
frocks and long shawls, and
all wearing sunbonnets. The
Highlander, with his usual
sunbonnet backward, with BEING SUFFOCATED."
the crown over his face, and was struggling with You 're not more than three inches high
it so helplessly that Dorothy rushed at him and this minute," said Sir Walter, surveying Doro-
got it off just in time to save him from being thy with a critical air.



"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Dorothy,
with a start. It seems to me that 's extremely
small. I should think I 'd have felt it coming
It comes on sort of sneaking, and you don't
notice it," said the Admiral. We 'd have
been completely inwisible by this time -if we
had n't jumped overboard."
"It was an awful jump!" said Dorothy, sol-
emnly. Did n't it hurt to fall so far? "
"Not at all," said the Admiral, cheerfully.
"The falling part of it was quite agreeable-so
cool and rushing, you know; but the landing
was tremenjious severe."
"Banged us like anything," explained the
Highlander; and with this the Caravan locked
arms and walked away with the tails of their
shawls trailing behind them.
"What strange little things they are!" said
Dorothy, reflectively, as she walked along after
them, and they 're for all the world precisely
like arimated dolls-movable, you know," she
added, not feeling quite sure that "arimated"
was the proper word,-" and speaking of dolls,
here 's a perfect multitude of 'em!" she ex-
claimed, for just then she came upon a long
row of dolls beautifully dressed, and standing
on their heels with their heads against the wall.
They were at least five times as big as Dorothy
herself, and had price-tickets tucked into their
sashes, such as 2/6, CHEAP," 5S., REAL WAX,"
and so on; and Dorothy, clapping her hands
in an ecstasy of delight, exclaimed: Why, it 's
a monstrous, enormous toy-shop! and then she
hurried on to see what else there might be on
Marbles, probably," she remarked, peering
over the edge of a basket full of what looked
like enormous stone cannon-balls of various
colors; for mastodons, I should say, only I
don't know as they ever play marbles,- grocery
shop, full of dear little drawers with real knobs
on 'em, 'pothecary's shop with true pill-boxes,"
she went on, examining one delightful thing
after another; "and here 's a farm out of a box,
with the trees and the family exactly the same
size, as usual, and oh! here 's a Noah's Ark full
of higgledy-piggledy animals-why, what are
you doing here ? she exclaimed, for the Cara-
van were huddled together at the door of the

ark, apparently discussing something of vast
We 're buying a camel," said the Admiral,
excitedly; they 've got just the one we want
for the Caravan."
"His name is Humphrey," shouted the
Highlander uproariously, "and he 's got three
humps! "
"Nonsense! cried Dorothy, bursting into a
fit of uncontrollable laughter. There never
was such a thing."
They have 'em in arks," said the Admiral
very earnestly. You can find anything in arks
if you only go deep enough. I 've seen 'em
with patriarchs in 'em, 'way down at the
Did they have any humps ? inquired the
Highlander with an air of great interest.
Dorothy went off again into a burst of laugh-
ter at this. He 's the most ignorant creature
I ever saw she said to herself.
"I thought they was something to ride on,"
said the Highlander sulkily; "otherwise, I say,
let 'em keep out of arks!" The rest of the
Caravan evidently sided with him in this opin-
ion, and after staring at Dorothy for a moment
with great disfavor they all called out, Old
Proudie!" and solemnly walked off in a row
as before.
I believe I shall have a fit if I meet them
again," said Dorothy to herself, laughing till her
eyes were full of tears. "They 're certainly the
foolishest things I ever saw," and with this she
walked away through the shop.

"How much are you a dozen? said a voice,
and Dorothy, looking around, saw that it was a
Dancing-Jack in the shop-window speaking to
her. He was a gorgeous creature with bells on
the seams of his clothes and with arms and legs
of different colors, and he was lounging in an
easy attitude with his right leg thrown over the
top of a toy livery-stable and his left foot in a
large ornamental tea-cup; but as he was fast-
ened to a hook by a loop in the top of his hat,
Dorothy did n't feel in the least afraid of him.
"Thank you," she replied with much dignity.
"I 'm not a dozen at all. I 'm a single person.
That sounds kind of unmarried," she thought to
herself, "but it 's the exact truth."


No offense, I hope," said the Jack, looking
somewhat abashed.
No not exactly," said Dorothy rather
"You know, your size does come in dozens
-assorted," continued the Jack with quite a
professional air. "Family of nine, two maids
with dusters, and cook with removable apron.
Very popular, I believe."
"So I should think," remarked Dorothy, be-
ginning to recover her good nature.
But of course singles are much more select,"
said the Jack. We never come in dozens,
you know."
"I suppose not," said Dorothy innocently.
"I can't imagine anybody wanting twelve
Dancing-Jacks all at the same time."
It would n't do any good if they did want
'em," said the Jack. "They could n't get 'em,-
that is, not in this shop."
Now, while this conversation was going on,
Dorothy noticed that
the various things in
the shop-window
had a curious
wB'v nf rnn-

%k _

--- ---- "- --

IL -

turning into something else. She discovered
this by seeing a little bunch of yellow peg-tops
change into a plateful of pears while she
chanced to be looking at them; and a moment
afterward she caught a doll's saucepan, that


was hanging in one corner of the window, just
in the act of quietly turning into a battledore
with a red morocco handle. This struck her
as being such a remarkable performance that
she immediately began looking at one thing af-
ter another, and watching the various changes,
until she was quite bewildered.
"It 's something like a Christmas panto-
mime," she said to herself; "and it is n't the
slightest use, you know, trying to fancy what
anything 's going to be, because everything
that happens is so unproblesome. I don't
know where I got that word from," she went
on, but it seems to express exactly what I
mean. F'r instance, there 's a little cradle that's
just been turned into a coal-scuttle, and if that
is n't unproblesome, well then-never mind "
(which, as you know, is a ridiculous way little
girls have of finishing their sentences).
By this time she had got around again to
the toy livery-stable, and she was extremely
pleased to find that it had turned into a smart
little baronial castle with a turret at each end,
and that the ornamental tea-cup was just
changing, with a good deal of a flourish, into
Ssmaill rowboat floating in a little stream that
Io!-n ,1i the castle walls.
Come, that 's the finest
thing yet! exclaimed Doro-
thy, looking at all this with
great admiration; and I wish
a brazen knight would come
South with a trumpet and blow
a blast "- you see, she was
quite romantic at times--and
she was just admiring the
Clever way in which the boat
was getting rid of the handle
"JI-H-- of the tea-cup, when the Dan-
cing-Jack suddenly stopped
talking, and began scrambling
over the roof of the castle. He
was extremely pale, and, to
S Dorothy's alarm, spots of
UED THE JACK." bright colors were coming out
all over him, as if he had been made of stained
glass, and was being lighted up from the inside.
"I believe I 'm going to turn into some-
thing," he said, glaring wildly about, and speak-
ing in a very agitated voice.



Goodness! exclaimed Dorothy in dismay. to herself, not to know which of two people is
"What do you suppose it 's going to be ? talking to you, 'specially when there 's really only
I think," said the Jack solemnly, I think one of them here," but she never had a chance
it's going to be a patch-work quilt," but just as to ask any questions about the matter, for in the
he was finishing this remark a sort of wriggle meantimeapart
passed through him, and, to Dorothy's amaze- of the castle had
ment, he turned into a slender Harlequin all quietly turned
made up of spangles and shininri trimngle-. upside do.vn,
Now this was all very well, :i .i : .....ur-- r i : ii. ;i -
much better than turning
into a quilt of any sort,. .
but as the Dancing-Jack's I
last remark went on without ."' -
stopping, and was taken .. ..j.
charge of, so to speak, and ,,, -
finished by the Harlequin, .
it mixed up the two in a very .' '.
confusing way. In fact, by -
the time the remark came '.- -
to an end, Dorothy did n't ,
really know which of them -- __ -_-
was talking to her, and, to
make matters worse, the
Harlequin vanished for a -
moment and then reap-
peared, about one half of
out of the door of the castle with an uncon- little stone bridge with the stream flowing
cerned air as if he had n't had anything to do beneath it, and the Harlequin, stepping into
with the affair. the boat, sailed away under the bridge and
"It 's dreadfully confusing," said Dorothy disappeared.
(To be continued.)


My heart, dear Goldilocks, Though certainly 't is small,
Within this paper box Yett is my little all,
You will find: Bear in mind.




HARLES I. was to marry the
Young and beautiful Henrietta
Maria of France. When she
came to England there was
/' great rejoicing throughout
the kingdom. Bells rang mer-
rily, bonfires blazed, and the people shouted
themselves hoarse.
Perhaps the finest of the many feasts given
in honor of the royal couple was at Burleigh, in
Rutlandshire, the home of the Duke of Buck-
ingham. The fair Henrietta had a fancy for
dwarfs, and, as everybody at that time was striv-
ing to please her Majesty, the Duke concluded to
offer her a certain little manikin of his own,
named Jeffrey Hudson. This mite became
celebrated, and was the hero of so many ad-
ventures by sea and by land that the story
of his life reads more like romance than like
Queerly enough, he was born in Rutlandshire,
the smallest county of England, in 1619. Lit-
tle is known of his babyhood. His mother was
tall, and his father must have been a robust man,
for he was a drover in the service of George,
Duke of Buckingham.
When Jeffrey was seven or eight years old, he
was presented by his father to the Duchess. He
was well formed and good-looking, although
he was only eighteen inches tall. He remained
at this height from his eighth to his thirtieth
year, after which he grew again, reaching three
feet and six inches, and never exceeded that.
The Duchess ordered his patched and well-
worn clothes to be removed, arrayed his little

person in silk and satin, and appointed two tall
serving-men to attend on him.
Here is a story of one of his adventures while
living with her Grace, though the quaint terms
of the period have been changed. An old
woman, having invited a few of her cronies to
dinner, some practical jokers who had stolen her
cat dressed Jeffrey in a cat's skin and conveyed
him into the room. When the feast was nearly
over and cheese set upon the table, one of the
guests offered the pretended cat a bit. Grimal-
kin can help himself when he is hungry," said
the dwarf, and then nimbly ran down-stairs.
The women all started up in the greatest con-
fusion and clamor imaginable, crying out "A
witch, a witch with her talking cat! But the
joke was soon after found out; otherwise the
poor woman might have suffered.
A magnificent feast had been prepared at
Burleigh in honor of the King and Queen, and
it was arranged that the little dwarf should step
from a huge venison pasty into her Majesty's
service. This mode of appearance was not
new even then. A pie with a dwarf inside was
thought a dainty dish to set before a king,"
and a gift of this kind was often a road to the
sovereign's favor.
On the day of the dinner, Jeffrey found him-
self imprisoned in a large dish surrounded by a
high wall of standing crust. Of course a way
had been found to give him air, but he after-
ward said he felt buried alive. To add to his
discomfort, Buckingham slyly ordered the pie
to be warmed, saying, It were better eaten
warm than cold."
Young Jeffrey remained quiet and said never
a word as the dish was carried to the kitchen;


but he was far from happy, and thought of
Nebuchadnezzar and the fiery furnace until he
grew "warm with apprehension." The cook,
however, understood the joke, and the dwarf-
pie was placed in safety on the royal table. At
last came the fateful time -the crowning mo-
ment of Jeffrey's life. The pie was opened, the
trumpet sounded, and forth sprang the dwarf!
He was clad in a full suit of armor and skipped
about the table, shaking his little sword at some
of the guests; and, remembering the scorching
the Duke had threatened for him, he gave a
vicious little tweak at his Grace's noble nose.
Buckingham drew back in time to save his
handsome face and threatened to cudgel the
young knave with a chicken-bone; but the King
laughed and said Buckingham was served quite
By this time Jeffrey was nearly deafened with
applause, and half drowned in the perfumes the
ladies sprinkled upon him, so he hastened to
end the scene by prostrating himself before the
Queen's plate and entreating to be taken into
her service.
His request was readily granted, for her Ma-
jesty was much diverted by his odd perform-
ances. Although she already had two other
dwarfs, one named Richard and the other Anne
Gibson, Jeffrey was taken back to court, where
he was made much of by Queen Henrietta and
the court ladies. He was as brave and true-
hearted a little knight as ever wore spurs, and
proved a trusty messenger on many occasions.
Through all the trouble that afterward came
to the royal couple the dwarf remained loyal
to the King and his beloved Queen; but the
little fellow could not stand prosperity, and
his sudden rise in the world had filled his small
head with queer vanity and foolish fancies.
One day, in frolicsome mood, the King was
persuaded to confer the order of knighthood
upon the manikin. How his little heart must
have throbbed with pride when, kneeling on a
velvet cushion at the feet of his sovereign, he
felt the sword laid gently across his shoulders
and heard the royal voice say, "Arise, Sir Jef-
frey Hudson! "
Being so much indulged, Sir Jeffrey altogether
forgot his humble birth, and when his father
came to see him he refused to recognize the

drover, for which, by the King's command, the
ungrateful son was very soundly and very prop-
erly whipped.
By this time Jeffrey was high in the favor of
Queen Henrietta, and afforded her so much
amusement by his odd speeches that he became
a privileged character.
But even in these prosperous days Sir Jeffrey
had his troubles. His pathway through the
royal household was not altogether without
thorns. The domestics and nobles took great
pleasure in teasing the fiery-tempered midget,
and truth compels me to state that he was quick
to take offense and of quarrelsome disposition.
The Queen had a pet monkey with which Jef-
frey was on very friendly terms; but often, when
the two were seen together, such jokes and
comparisons were made as would drive young
Hudson into a frenzy of rage.
The King's gigantic porter, William Evans,
was another thorn in Jeffrey's flesh, and a very
big thorn, too. Evans was truly a giant, mea-
suring seven and a half feet in height. Jeffrey
and he could never meet without squabbling,
and indeed the very sight of this ill-assorted
pair standing side by side was enough to occa-
sion remarks that made Jeffrey's blood boil.
One evening, when a merry-making or mask-
ing-frolic was going on at the palace, the giant
and the dwarf happened to meet. As usual,
an angry quarrel took place. Evans began to
tease his tiny rival by allusions to pies, veni-
son-pasties, and the like, and, in the style of the
well-known Goliath of Gath, when deriding
David, cast reflections upon Hudson's diminu-
tive size. Jeffrey, though extremely angry,
tried to preserve his dignity. With a very red
face he strutted up to the giant, whose knee was
about on a level with the dwarf's head, and
said with an angry stamp:
"Peradventure, my friend, you have never
sufficiently considered that the wren is made by
the same hand that formed the bustard, and
that the diamond, though small in size, outval-
ues ten thousand times the granite! "
At this sally Evans's mighty lungs thundered
forth a peal of laughter that drowned the shouts
of the courtiers, and snatching up the valiant
knight he thrust him into one of his huge pock-
ets. Holding an immense hand over the


Ar%^ 4-';
", -- .- ly'' :" ,. .

*^:^^W, .-.

.. .


midget to prevent his escaping, Evans pro-
ceeded to take his place in the pageant, where
he was to perform a dance. When this was fin-
ished he drew from his pocket a big loaf of

bread which he broke in two, and then from the
other pocket he took the squirming Jeffrey,
placed him between the half-loaves as if he
were the slice of meat that goes to make up a


sandwich, and intimated that the King's giant
would lunch upon the Queen's dwarf.
The surprise and mirth of the spectators were
gall and wormwood to poor Jeffrey, whose lit-
tle feet could be seen kicking furiously in all
directions from the sides of the loaf.
While I am telling of the giant, I will take
time to say that in Newgate street, London,
fixed in the front of a house, is a stone carving
in low relief representing these two remarkable
persons. The tablet has remained there for
more than two hundred years, and bears the
M. P. A.

The letters M. P. A. are supposed to be the
initials of the builder.
About this time Jeffrey was sent by the Queen
on a mission to France. He was to bring back
with him a French servant, and, according to
a letter written by her Majesty to a certain
Madame St. George, she was in need of "a
dozen pairs of sweet chamois gloves, one of
doeskin, and the rules of any species of game
then in vogue." She also asked that a French
tailor be sent over, "if only to make her some
petticoat bodices."
Here was an errand for our hero! A lit-
tle man a foot and a half high was selected to
go to France and escort back to England a
servant and a tailor, to say nothing of gloves
and games!
Sir Jeffrey arrived safely at the French court,
where he became an object of great admira-
tion and received presents for himself to the
value of some twelve thousand dollars. He
attended faithfully to the business of the Queen,
and in due time was ready to return with the
servant, the gloves, and a French dancing-
master in place of the tailor. He had in his
keeping, too, many rich gifts from Marie de
Medicis, the French queen and mother of Hen-
rietta, to her daughter in England.
The voyage home proved unlucky. The
vessel in which he embarked with all this trea-
sure was old and small, scarcely fit to contend
with the rough waves of the Channel. They
had not proceeded far when a Dunkirk privateer
bore down upon them; and as the frail little
VOL. XIX.- 17.

French craft could not offer the slightest resis-
tance to an armed vessel, she was soon boarded
by the pirates. They were no respecters of per-
sons, but captured Sir Jeffrey, the servant, and
the dancing-master, and robbed them of all
they had; whereby the unhappy dwarf lost not
only his mistress's presents, but his own as well.
I am afraid none of the captives behaved
very bravely. The doughty knight was found
hidden behind an enormous candlestick, and
the French dancing-master was easily per-
suaded to put on one of her Majesty's "petti-
coat bodices" and do a French step for the
amusement of the pirate crew. Jeffrey, with
the rest of his party, was held a prisoner at
Dunkirk for some little time.
Here it was that our hero fought his famous
battle with a turkey-cock, which recalls the
celebrated combats between the pygmies and
the cranes told about by Homer. It is said,
though it is a big story, that a turkey-cock en-
countered the knight in one of his walks, and
tried to swallow him as if he were a grain of
After a gallant struggle the dwarf was almost
beaten, but, the servant appearing at a lucky
moment, he called to her for help, and she soon
saved him from the beak and claws of the fierce
Several years after this Sir William D'Ave-
nant was appointed poet laureate and printed a
stately epic poem called "Jeffreidos," in which
he holds up to ridicule the events of the
dwarf's trying journey:

For Jeffrey strait was thrown ; whilst faint and weake
The cruel foe assaults him with his beake.

Sir Jeffrey lost none of the Queen's favor by
his misfortunes; his liberty was bought from
the pirates, and he was sent on another mis-
sion across the Channel. Again he was taken
prisoner by pirates, this time by Turks, and was
carried off to Barbary, where he was sold as a
slave. He was taken to Morocco, where, ac-
cording to his own account, he was exposed to
many hardships, and set to cruel labor; but
the officers of the garrison stationed at Tan-
giers told a different tale, and asserted that it
took the dusky Moors a long time to invent
an employment for the tiny slave.



Again a ransom was paid, and after many
mishaps he reached his native shores, to find
England engaged in civil war, and his beloved
King and Queen in dire distress.
Jeffrey immediately took up the King's cause,
and was made a captain of horse in the royal
army, a capacity in which he must have been a
very comical figure. Once, when the dashing
Prince Rupert made a sudden charge on a troop
of the Roundheads near Newbury, Jeffrey and
his band joined in the assault. The Royalists
were driven back; but Jeffrey declared the
victory would have been sure if he had been
better mounted. He complained that he was
seated on a long-legged brute of a horse and
that his sword was too short. At all events, our
tiny knight and Prince Rupert were forced to
beat a hasty retreat, while the victorious Puri-
tans set up a cry of "There go Prince Robin
and Cock Robin!"
By this time Henrietta, the queen, whom all
England had been striving to please but a few
years before, had become even more unpopular
than her unfortunate husband. She was a
stanch opponent of the Puritans, and she had in-
censed the members of Parliament by trying to
raise money to provide the King with means
of defense. On her return from Holland,
whither she had gone to sell her jewels, Queen
Henrietta went to Bath in hopes of finding relief
from a severe attack of rheumatic fever. But
war had left its traces on that beautiful western
city. The place was full of soldiers, and the
Queen was forced to push on to Exeter, one of
the few towns which still remained loyal. She
was there greeted with tender messages from her
husband, but her sufferings increased; and in
less than two weeks the Earl of Essex advanced
to besiege the city. Hearing that his lordship
had set a price upon her head, she summoned
sufficient resolution to leave her sick-bed, and
with three faithful attendants hid herself in the
woods between Exeter and Plymouth. A few
of her ladies and officers, in various disguises,
stole out of the town and joined her; among
these was the valiant Jeffrey. For two days the
faithful dwarf kept watch while the Queen lay
hidden in a miserable little hut under a heap of
rubbish, suffering from cold and hunger. She
heard the enemy's soldiers pass by her retreat,

exclaiming that they would carry the head of
Henrietta to London, where Parliament had
offered for her death a reward of fifty thousand
As soon as the troops had passed, she left her
hiding-place, and, accompanied by Jeffrey and
a few other officers and attendants, made her
way to Pendennis Castle. The Queen suffered
greatly on the road, but at last reached the
royal fortress on the 29th of June, 1644.
A friendly Dutch vessel was in the bay. In
this the party set sail; but before they reached
the shores of France a cruiser in the service of
Parliament gave chase and fired on them sev-
eral times. Sir Jeffrey was again in danger of
being taken prisoner, but this time he escaped,
although one shot hit the Queen's bark, and
all gave themselves up for lost. In the nick of
time, a French fleet hove in sight and hastened
to their rescue. The party finally landed at a
wild and rocky cove near Brest.
For a time Henrietta's French relatives gen-
erously gave her money; and, wishing to be
near the baths at Bourbon, the poor Queen
made her residence at an old palace in the city
of Nevers. Next the chateau was an extensive
park, and there was fought a famous duel be-
tween Sir Jeffrey and Mr. Crofts, a member of
the Queen's household.
When his royal mistress was in greatest dan-
ger, the manikin had shown himself quite as brave
as many of her cavaliers and much more useful;
and ever since her escape from Exeter he had
assumed an air of great importance that was
highly amusing to the Queen's attendants. His
temper had not improved by time, and he used
to grow frantic with rage at any one who at-
tempted to jest with him or tease him.
Accordingly, he announced with great dig-
nity that he would challenge to mortal combat
the first person who should allude to battles
with turkey-cocks, or mention venison-pasties,
or who should insult him in any way. This, of
course, gave promise of great fun to his tor-
mentors, and Mr. Crofts lost no time in finding
an opportunity to quote a part of Sir William
D'Avenant's poem, "Jeffreidos," before the
knight and other members of the royal house-
Jeffrey was furious, and nothing but a duel


would heal his wounded honor. It was settled
that Crofts and the dwarf were to meet on
horseback, in order that Jeffrey might be more
nearly on a level with his adversary, and they
were to fight with pistols.
Jeffrey carefully armed himself for the fray;
but Crofts, who looked upon the whole affair
as a joke, took with him nothing but a large
squirt-gun, thinking to put out both his small
opponent and the priming of his pistol by a gen-
erous shower of water. The angry Jeffrey, how-
ever, was a skilful horseman and an accurate
shot. He managed his steed with such dexter-
ity that he avoided the shower aimed at him
and killed Crofts with a shot from his pistol.
Great was the excitement at the palace when
the news was told. The duel brought Queen
Henrietta a great deal of trouble and proved
the ruin of Jeffrey. In order to save his head,
Henrietta wrote to Anne of Austria, Queen
Regent of France, asking her to pardon the
dwarf, and she also sent the following letter to
the prime minister, Cardinal Mazarin:
MON COUSIN: I have written to the queen,
madame my sister, on the misfortune which has
happened in my house. Le Joffroy has killed
the brother of Crofts. I have written to the com-
mandeur the whole affair for your information;
and what I wish is, that both one and the other
being English and my domestics, the queen, my
sister, will give me power to do justice or pardon
as I would. This I would not do without writing
to you, and praying you to aid me herein, as I
ever do in all that concerns me, according to my
profession of being, as I am, my cousin,
Your very affectionate cousine,
NEVERS, October 20, 1644.

Sir Jeffrey's life was spared; but he could no
longer retain his place at the court of his royal
mistress. The brother of the Crofts whom Jef-
frey had killed was captain of the Queen's
guard, and proved implacable in his pursuit.
The dwarf was forced to escape to England,
where he lived in obscurity for many years.
His kind protector, Charles I., died on the
scaffold, and Queen Henrietta was long with-
out money for her own living.
Jeffrey managed to exist at Oakham, his na-

tive town, on a small pension granted him by
the Duke of Buckingham and a few others.
During his residence there he grew, as I al-
ready said, till he was more than twice his for-
mer height, and his chief amusement was to
tell his adventures to the country people.
After the great London plague and fire had
devastated the city, Sir Jeffrey (he never for-
got his title) was induced to pay a visit to the
son of his beloved Queen Henrietta, who was
then reigning as Charles II. At this time the
whole nation was excited over the supposed
discovery of a plot to assassinate the king, and
Jeffrey was accused of complicity and thrown
into prison with numerous other persons.
The Merry Monarch,
Who never said a foolish thing,
And never did a wise one,

left the inquiry about the plot and plotters to
drag on for years, and certainly did not trouble
himself to find out whether his mother's favor-
ite dwarf was innocent or not. Poor little Jef-
frey in jail must have presented a most fantastic
appearance. His mustache was so long that
the ends almost twisted back amongst, and
mingled with, his grizzled hair." His head,
hands, and feet seemed rather large for the
rest of his body, and the only clothes he had
were his worn-out court fineries, the lace and
embroideries of which were tarnished and
He had an old cracked guitar, on which he
occasionally strummed the air while he sang
some of the Spanish or Moorish ballads he had
learned in former days. The little voice that
at one time had served to divert and amuse
the highest in the land grew feebler and fee-
bler, and finally, in 1682, it ceased altogether.
The valiant Jeffrey died, all unnoticed and
uncared for, in his cell in the Gate-House,
Westminster. His little waistcoat of blue satin,
slashed and ornamented with pinked white silk,
and his breeches and stockings, in one piece of
blue satin, are preserved and may still be seen
in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford.
No tomb marks his resting-place, but he has
been immortalized by two of the greatest artists
of his time, Vandyck and Daniel Mytens.



MY papa is a great big man;
But what I cannot see is
Just how they 're going to work that plan
To make me big as he is.


My brother's brother's not my brother;
And this is why, you see,
Though his dear mother's my dear mother,
My brother's brother 's me.




W E were living- Dolly, and Bert,
and I-in the little village of
Chapada, somewhere about the center of South
America. You will not find Chapada on your
maps. It lies some thirty miles to the north-
eastward of Cuyaba, well within the limits of
Brazil, but not far from Bolivia.
Cuyab& is a city," capital of the province
or state of Matto Grosso. But when you read
capital" and state," you must not think of
a region like New York, and a capital like Al-
bany or Boston. Matto Grosso is, indeed,
larger than New England and the Middle
States put together; but half the civilized in-
habitants live in the capital, which is only an
oversized village after all; another quarter make
up the "cities" of Corumbk and Villa Maria,
and the rest-enough to form another village
-are scattered over the inhabited part of the
State. This does not differ greatly from the
uninhabited part, for the houses or settlements
are often twenty miles asunder, and even the
largest plantations are mere dots in the wilder-
But what a wilderness! Suppose I could
select a score of the ST. NICHOLAS boys-the
real boys, who love a gun and fishing-rod, and
glory in a long tramp-to ramble with them
over those great, breezy, sunshiny hills and down
through the tangled forest ? I am sure that a
deer might be stalked on that green hillside;

possibly there are wild pigs and certainly game-
birds in that little wood; no lack of fish in the
stream. You can never know the zest of hunt-
ing or fishing until your dinner depends on
your success; you have never attained the sub-
lime in cookery until you have spitted your fish
or meat on a freshly peeled stick, rubbed the
salt in with your fingers, and boiled it over a
woodland fire, you watching it jealously lest it
get ablaze, and all the time that meat is brown-
ing you grow hungrier and hungrier; and every
time it sputters in the glow you catch wafts
of fragrance, until you feel that you have the
capacity of a dozen starving men, and wonder
whether a single haunch of venison can supply
your wants.
Bert was a youngster then,-so was I for that
matter, and am yet whenever I get a whiff of the
wild woods. Bert had his gun, a good service-
able breech-loader, the envy of the neighboring
hunters. Of these, we generally kept three or
four in our employ-sturdy, brown fellows, of
that mixed race found all over the interior of
Brazil. Then there was our German boy Carl,
or Carlos as we called him, a good shot, and
handy about camps. For myself, I 'm no
hunter, unless an entomologist be one; but I
could share in the excitement of a successful
day, and assist nobly at the dinner afterward.
We made our headquarters at Chapada for
a long time, and what we did n't know of the
country for twenty miles round was not worth
knowing. One day we organized a grand
hunting-party. Besides Bert and Carlos, there
were Vicente, a dark half-breed and notable
hunter; David, an ex-soldier of wandering


tastes; Pedro, a great strapping fellow, prin-
cipally handy for bringing home game, though
he could shoot too, on occasion; and three or
four others. Vicente's wife, Barbina, went along
as ccok, and to take care of her husband's
numerous dogs: these were all of that doubtful
race known as pure mongrel-small and bony
and scraggly; but what they lacked in flesh
they made up in voice. Our own dog, Boca-
negra," would never associate with this pack in
the village, but when hunting he admitted them
to a modified companionship, for the general
We were bound for a place or region called
Taquarassi, about twenty miles from Chapada;
our hunters had already stalked the small red
and brown deer there, and had seen cervos or
stags. The latter are rather rare on the high-
lands, though common along the river-plains.
I was anxious to secure a cervo for our collec-
tion, and Bert and Carlos were 'u ,1Iil anxious
to shoot one. Boca-negra, too, pricked up his
ears when we talked of cervos and Taquarassd;
he could n't understand a word of English, but
was fairly well up in Portuguese for a dog, and
thoroughly versed in hunting-terms. Dear old
fellow! He was a mongrel too, but he must
have had noble blood somewhere in his veins,
for no dog was ever braver or more generous.
The main party set out in the morning; the
men on foot, with two mules and an ox to carry
the camp-fixtures, hammocks, blankets, and sup-
plies of mandioca-meal, coffee, sugar, and so on.
Dolly and I followed about two o'clock, on
horseback. The road for Matto Grosso is a
good one, winding along the edge of the pla-
teau, with glorious views here and there over
the lowlands of the Cuyabf.
Just before sunset we turned into a path
which led to the lower table-land of Taqua-
rassf. Surely there is not such another bit of
hunting-ground in the world; hardly a prettier
spot. The country, though I have called it a
table-land, is not flat, but rolling. Most of the
slopes support but a scrubby growth, showing
gray in the distance; here and there it is varied
by stretches of emerald-green sward, where the
land is wet; and all the valleys are dotted with
the loveliest groves, certain marks of a stream
or spring.

We knew that there were streams in plenty,
and could catch the sparkle of one below us,
between two of the groves. Here, to complete
the picture, stood a noble group of fan-leaved
miriti-palms; and beyond the palms, quietly
grazing on one of those patches of greensward,
were two deer. We were a quarter of a mile
away, with the wind blowing toward us, so they
had not caught our scent; but as we rode down
the hill they lifted their pretty heads, gazed at
the apparition for a second or two, and then
bounded off, the pictures of grace.
It was growing dark when we reached the
place that had been agreed upon for the camp;
much to our surprise, it was deserted, though
there were signs of recent occupation. We did
not see in the twilight a note that had been left
for us, stuck in a split stick; so, as we knew
that the party could not be far off, we found
their trail and rode after them. Luckily the
grass was high and showed plainly where the
party had passed, else we could not have fol-
lowed in the gathering darkness; as it was, we
nearly lost the trail once or twice. It crossed
a brook and skirted a strip of woods. After
half an hour we saw the gleam of a fire, and,
guided by its light, presently rode under the
trees into a space that had been cleared for the
They had done well to change the camp.
The place was sheltered from wind and heat,
and a prettier spot could hardly have been
found. Our tent was up, and the men had
constructed beside it a most ambitious palm-
thatched hut,-that is, it would have been palm-
thatched, but the palm-leaves gave out before
it was half covered; so it was a house with a
hole where most of the roof should have been.
Hammocks were slung to trees; pack-saddles
and cooking-utensils were scattered about; the
dogs sallied out in grand chorus as we rode up;
the fire blazed and crackled, throwing queer,
moving shadows on the overhanging branches;
there came to our nostrils a fragrance as of
broiling meat, and a faint aroma as of coffee;
and, best of all, on a horizontal pole, between
uprights, two deer were hanging by their hind
legs, as deer should hang at a camp. These
were enough to prove that the hunters had
made a start; true, they were the small, brown



deer, not stags, but then the party had been
here but a few hours.
The hunters greeted us as warmly as though
we had been separated for days instead of
hours; cups of fragrant coffee were brought,
and presently supper of venison-steaks and
black bean-porridge, with such fixings as the
packs would afford. Then we turned into our
hammocks, watching the play of firelight on
the branches above; no sound but of a crack-
ling brand and the murmur of the brook, or the
monotonous creak of hammock-ropes as the
men swung lazily, until we dropped off to
dreamless slumber such as only children and
hunters can know.
At the first glimpse of dawn, Bert roused me
softly. I had arranged to go with him and
Carlos to stalk cervos by a small lake near by;
that is, the boys were to do the stalking, while
I looked on from the vantage-ground of a tree.
We stole silently through the scrub growth, a
mile or more, to the top of a ridge; beyond this
lay the lake, a mere pond in a hollow, with the
scrubby growth all around except close to the
shore, where there was a strip of open sward.
The dawn was now well advanced. At the top
of the ridge Carlos, who was ahead, suddenly
stooped behind a bush, with a quick sign of
caution to us. We crept up on all-fours and
looked down over the lake. There, knee-deep
in the water and calmly drinking, was a stag.
I think both the boys had an attack of buck-
fever when they saw those antlers. But- whiff!
there came just a waft of air on our backs, and
going right toward the stag. He raised his
noble head,- such a sight!- sniffed the air,
came to the shore, sniffed again, and began to
move off uneasily. The boys raced along be-
hind the ridge to head him, but it was too late.
Those antlers never adorned Bert's room, though
he has plenty of other hunting-trophies.
We followed the tracks for half a mile, until it
was clear that the chase was hopeless. The boys
fumed a little, but agreed that prospects were
encouraging, and their spirits went up to boiling-
heat when we returned to the lake and found
the marks of more than one cervo along the
banks; mingled with these, too, were numerous
trails of the small deer, and, best of all, the
unmistakable three-toed tracks of tapirs. No

doubt this was a regular drinking-place for
forest animals, and by watching at night, the
usual drinking-time, a cervo or a tapir might be
bagged. Disappointment gave way to hope.
Bert had visions of antlers with ten prongs, and
Carlos talked of a tapir-skin lariat as if he al-
ready had the dead tapir at his feet. The sun
was rising gloriously; we took a cool dip in the
lake, of course carefully avoiding the side where
tracks were numerous, and then hurried back to
our camp.
There a new excitement awaited us. Vi-
cente, exploring the woods up-stream, had struck
the fresh trail of wild hogs a large drove, he
said, and they must have passed during the
night. Probably they were feeding within a
few miles, and could easily be brought to bay
with the dogs.
Dolly had thoughtfully urged forward the
morning repast, well knowing that there would
be no time to lose. You should have seen the
boys go through that meal, talking all the time,
with their mouths full of corn-cake, and Bert
hammering at fresh cartridges the while.
In five minutes we were ready-Bert, Carlos,
Vicente, and Pedro with their guns; I with a
revolver strapped to my waist and an insect-net
in my hand, ready for peace or war; and the
dogs in great excitement circling about any-
where. David went off to hunt alone, and the
other men stayed by the camp to complete their
too-aspiring hut. It never got beyond half a
The stream by our camp and above it for a
long distance was bordered by a strip of beau-
tiful forest. Vicente led us quietly along the
skirts of this wood about a mile, and then
turned under the trees to a bit of swampy
ground within. The dogs, running ahead, were
already yelping as only Vicente's dogs could,
and no wonder, for the mud was covered with
pig-tracks where a large herd had been feed-
ing, probably just before daybreak.
The trail passed up-stream, always in the
wood; soon the dogs were racing after it, noses
to the ground, and at first yelping madly; but
after a bit they settled down to their work, and
we heard their signals only at intervals. We
scrambled on as fast as we could, now cutting
our way through the woods, now running along



the edge, each man for himself, but all strug-
gling to catch up with the pack. Stopping to
net an insect or two, I was soon distanced hope-
lessly, so, to make the best of it, I found a good
spot and descended to the less exciting pursuit
of bugs and butterflies.

I had heard shouts in the distance, and knew
that our hunters must have found the game.
Presently our dog Boca-negra broke through
the bushes and ran up wagging and whining, as
triumphant as a dog could be. A minute after,
the hunters-all except Pedro-trooped up


It is not uninteresting work, and my captures
were good; by noon my boxes and bottles were
full, and I strolled down to the stream, where
the trees grew thinly, forming a lovely open
glade. A tiny cascade looked so inviting that I
immediately stuck my head under it, and came
out with my hair and half my shirt dripping.
Then I threw myself on the bank, watching the
play of sunlight on the pool below, while I dis-
cussed the lunch that Dolly had provided. The
ferns bent down lovingly to the pool; a hum-
ming-bird came to bathe, poising its tiny body
over the water and flashing green and crimson
from its helmet, then dipping twice or thrice
and darting off to plume itself on a neighboring
twig. I have seen large moths bathing and
drinking in the same way.

with the rest of the dogs, Vicente bending under
the weight of a pig that was slung over his back.
They had found the drove, about thirty, a
mile farther up-stream; the pigs were gathered
in a little open space, clicking their white tusks
at the dogs, and making no attempts to escape;
the dogs were barking furiously, but kept a safe
distance -all except one that had ventured too
close and was lying on the ground, a victim to
his own rashness; he had yelped his last yelp.
Vicente, who was ahead, called to the boys to
be careful, and climb a tree if the drove charged,
as these animals sometimes do. Bert plunged
through the bushes, and came up to the pigs on
one side while they were still engaged with the
dogs. Seeing his chance, he picked out the lar-
gest one within range and knocked it over neatly


with a shoulder-shot. At that the drove broke
and raced off through the woods. Vicente took
a flying shot, but only wounded one; they fol-
lowed for a mile or more, but the trail ran
through a tough thicket of bamboos, where
their progress was so slow that the hunters had
to give up the chase.
They then returned to the dead pig, waited
for the dogs to come in, and, about noon,
started back to camp. All were in high spirits,
though Vicente growled a little about his lost
dog, and vowed never to set his pack on a pig-
trail again. Pedro was missing, but could take
care of himself; so we went on.
The pig was one of the kind called caitit/, the
smaller of two species found in this region; it
generally goes in droves, sometimes of a hundred
or more, and its chase is quite dangerous enough
to be exciting. I have heard of hunters treed

We found David in camp, and he had brought
another deer; one of the men had shot a brace
of pheasant-like birds; and, late in the day, Pe-
dro came staggering in under the weight of a
great porco, the larger species of wild hog.
The trail had carried him across ravines and
over a rocky hill, until he came on the hogs
(there were a pair) in a little thicket. His first
shot secured one. It weighed about a hundred
pounds, and Pedro carried it nearly eight miles.
We remained at Taquarassd a week, but I
have no space to tell you all of our adventures:
how we watched at night by the lake and saw
more cervos, but got none; how Vicente shot
an ant-eater, and Bert and Carlos between them
bagged a young tapir.
It was a successful hunt, though we got no
stags. The week's sport counted up seven
deer, three wild hogs (one the larger species),

by pigs, and besieged for hours. A pack of an ant-eater, a young tapir, and as much small
wolves is hardly more to be dreaded than a game as the men had cared to shoot. We
score of caititis, if they have the courage to were a very tired and very happy party when
charge, we reached Chapada late Saturday night.


(A Tale of Treasure Trove in the Streets of New York.)


[Begun in the November number.]

cessive Satur-
day after-
noons Tom
Paulding de-
voted to the
box of old
papers, care-
fully going
over every let-
Ster twice or
'1 thrice, that he
might make
sure of its full meaning and of its exact bear-
ing on the problems to be solved. With like
industry he read through the old newspapers
and the cuttings therefrom which made up
more than half the contents of the box. In
these newspapers Tom found nothing relating
to his investigation; but he discovered much in
them that was amusing; and the glimpse of
old New York they gave seemed to him so
strange that Tom began to take interest in the
early history of his native city. The more
thoroughly he came to know the annals of
New York, the prouder he was that he and
his had been New-Yorkers for five generations
at least.
One Saturday morning, early in December,
about a month after Mrs. Paulding had given
her son permission to take the box of old pa-
pers, Tom was going out to get his mother the
ingredients for a batch of cakes she had to
bake for a customer. Mrs. Paulding was fond
of cooking, and she made delicious broths and
jellies; but her special gift was for baking cake.
When the New York Exchange for Woman's

Work was opened, Mrs. Paulding sent to it for
sale a Washington pie, made after a receipt
which had been a tradition in the family, even be-
fore the days of Mrs. Nicholas Paulding, Tom's
great-grandmother. The purchaser of this deli-
cacy was so delighted with it that she went
again to the exchange and asked for another.
So in time it came about that Mrs. Paulding
was one of the ladies who eke out a slender
income by making soups, jellies, and cakes to
order for the customers of this Woman's Ex-
In this pleasant labor Tom and Pauline were
always anxious to aid. Polly had much of her
mother's lightness of touch, and was already
well skilled as a maker of what she chose to
call "seedaway cake,"-because it was thus
that she first had tried to name a cake flavored
with caraway seeds. Tom had no liking for
the kitchen, but he was glad to do what chores
he could and to run all his mother's errands.
Besides, Mrs. Paulding, with motherly fore-
thought, was wont to contrive that there should
be left over, now and again, small balls of
dough, which she molded in little tins and
baked for Tom and for Polly. These, how-
ever, were accidental delights to which they
looked forward whenever their mother had a
lot of cakes to make.
The Careful Katie did not always approve
of Mrs. Paulding's invasion of her kitchen to
make cake for others; but she always was
pleased to see the little cakes which might lie
a-baking in a corner of the oven as a treat for
Tom and for Polly.
"It's a sweet tooth they have, both d' the
childer," she said.
Polly had just called to her brother, Oh,
Tom, don't go out till you have given me that
'rithmetic of yours "
"All right," answered her brother.


Just then Katie left the room, and Polly
again delayed Tom's departure.
"When you were little," she said, "and
Katie used to say you had a sweet tooth in
your head, did it make you open your mouth,
and feel your teeth, and wonder why she said
you had only one? Because I did,--and I
used to be afraid that perhaps if I ate too
much cake I might lose my sweet tooth and
not be able to taste it any more."
"You did lose all that set of sweet teeth,
my dear," remarked Mrs. Paulding, smiling at
Polly, as she weighed out the powdered sugar
for her frosting.
"But I 've got a new set of them," Polly
replied, "and I 'm sure that I like cake now
more than ever."
"There was one of Katie's sayings that used
to worry me," said Tom; and that was when
she pretended to be tired of talking to us, and
declared that she would n't waste her breath on
us. That made me think that perhaps we had
only just so much breath each, and that if we
wasted it when we were young, we should n't
have any left when we were grown up "
"I used to think that too," interrupted
"And I thought that it would be horrible,"
continued her brother, "to be an old man, and
not be able to speak. So when I went to bed,
sometimes I used to save my breath, keeping it
in as long as I could."
I wish I 'd thought of that," Polly declared.
"But I did n't. Now, where 's that 'rithme-
tic?" she added, seeing that her brother had
again started to go.
I '11 get it for you," Tom answered. It 's
in my room."
In a minute he returned with the book in his
Across the cover were written the following
'robt ito).hv'.y' cRooy.

Polly took the volume, and, seeing this
strange legend, she asked at once, "What 's
that ?"
That?" echoed Tom. Oh, that 's
Mrs. Paulding looked around in surprise.

I did not know you were studying Greek,"
she said.
"I 'm not," Tom answered. That is n't
really Greek. It 's just my name in Greek let-
ters I got them out of the end of the dic-
tionary, you know. Besides, I did that years
ago. I have n't used that book since I was
Then he took the list of things his mother
wished him to get, and went out.
When he came back, Pauline danced out to
meet him, waving a paper above her head with
one hand, while with the other she kept tight
hold of the kitten which had climbed to her
Guess what I 've found!" she cried; "and
guess where I found it! "
Tom went into the dining-room to make his
report to his mother. Then he turned to Polly
and said: Well, and what did you find ?"
"I found this -in your 'rithmetic," she an-

I H 2

I; N


/ '"i 'r N


i -' *1
I I-

swered, opening the paper and holding it be-
fore him. It 's one of your compositions,
written when you were younger than I am
now--when you were only ten. It 's about
money-and Marmee and I don't think that it
is so bad, considering how very young you
were when you wrote it."


Mrs. Paulding smiled, but said nothing. The signature and the date under it are omit-
Let me see! cried Tom, holding out his ted, but the latter showed that Tom was just
hand. ten years and three months old when he com-
"Will you promise to give it back? she posed it:

asked, retreating behind her mother.
It 's mine, is n't it ? he replied.
"But I want to keep it. I would I Money
II and if
like to show it to our teacher and to II ad if
III half
some of the girls, because it is so IV is a
funny. I can tell them that a little V are a
boy wrote it, without telling who it VI the I
was. It was a good subject to write VII Russ
about, I think. Just think what I 've II The
IX the
got to do a composition on next x men
week! On Loyalty!' What can I XI and
write about Loyalty? That's one of XII of ti
those head-in-the-air words I never XIII tw(
XIV and
have anything to say about. The V a
XV as
teachers we had last year used to XVI, Sta
let us write descriptive compositions. XVII, mi
I wrote one on 'A Walk in River- XVIII, E
side Park,' and I told all about the XIX, ver
XX mow
little girl's tomb with the urn on it, XXI doll
XXI dol
you know. And we kept changing
teachers, and I handed in that composition
three times!"
O Pauline! said her mother, reproachfully.
"Well," the little girl explained, I wrote it
over every time and made it longer and fixed it
up a bit. It's so hard to think of things to say
when you have to write a composition."
Let me have mine now," said Tom, "and
I '11 give it back."
Honest ? she asked.
Certain sure," he answered.
"Hands across your heart ?" she inquired,
holding out the paper.
Never see the back of my neck again, if I
don't! declared Tom, taking it from her hand
When he had opened it, and when he saw the
irregular handwriting and the defective spelling,
he blushed slightly.
"I wrote this when I was a boy," he said
"What are you now? asked his mother, as
she glanced up from her labors, smiling.
"I mean a little boy," Tom answered.
This is the composition which Tom Paul-
ding had written when he was "a little boy."

is one of the most useful things in the world
it was not for money we should not have
the comforts and emploments which we have. Money
great thing and goes a great sometimes. There
Great many kinds of coins of different nations
english, the French, the American, the Austriun, and the
ian, and a great many others kinds of coins,
re has been a great deal of money spent in
war, To pay the soldier, and to buy the imple-
.ts of war, such as cannons, mortars, and cannans balls
powder, and some of it to give to the widows
he soldiers who have been killed, There are
o kinds of Money, one kind of which is paper
Sthe other kind is speice which is coin such
gold silver and copper The coin, of the United
tes are eagles, dollars, dimes, cents, and
lls, These are gold silver and copper. The
agles dollars are gold, dollars dimes half dimes are sil-
, cents and half cents are copper., Besides the paper
ney of the United States, which are the loo, 1o, 5
lars and less.

What I like about it," said Polly, stooping so
that the kitten could jump off her shoulder, "is
the way you have numbered the lines. Those
Xs and Vs take up a lot more space than plain
figures, and they help to fill up beautifully. Our
teacher now wants us to write forty lines, but
she won't let us number them-is n't that
mean ? "
I suppose you could write a very different
composition on the same subject now, Tom,
since you have been in search of the money
stolen from your great-grandfather," Mrs. Paul-
ding suggested.
"I don't know," Tom answered, with a laugh;
"I think I have learned something about the
history of the battles here in September, 1776;
but I don't know any more about money, be-
cause I have n't found any yet."
How do you get on with your search ?"
asked his mother.
"I don't get on at all," Tom answered
frankly. I seem to have found out all there
is to know -and that does n't tell me any-
thing really. I know all about the stealing,
but I have n't the first idea where the stolen
money is."


Then I would not waste any more time on
it," said Mrs. Paulding.
Oh, I 'm not going to give it up now," Tom
declared forcibly; "it's just like a puzzle to
me, and I 've worked over puzzles before.
Sometimes you go a long while, and you don't
see in the least how it could be done; and then,
all of a sudden, it comes to you, and you do it
as easily as can be. And that's what I hope
will happen about this two-thousand-guinea
puzzle. At any rate, that 's the biggest prize I
ever had a chance at, and I 'm not going to
give it up without trying hard for it."
Mrs. Paulding's eyes lighted up with pleasure
at Tom's energy.
"I wish your uncle Dick were here to help
you," she said.
I 'd rather do it all by myself, if I can,"
Tom returned. If I can't, then I 'd like Uncle
Dick's help."
Where is Uncle Dick now ? asked Pauline.
"I believe he is at the diamond-fields in
South Africa," her mother answered. "That is
where I wrote him last; but I have n't heard
from him for nearly a year now."
But if Uncle Dick came back, mother, we
should n't need the two thousand guineas," said
Tom; "he 'd pay off the mortgage, and send
me to study engineering, and get a new doll for
Polly, and-"
'*I 'm not a baby!" interrupted Pauline, "and
I don't want a new doll. If I had lots and lots
of money, I think I should like a little teeny-
weeny tiger-just a tiger-kitten, you know. It
would be such fun to play with it. Is Uncle
Dick very rich, Marmee ? "
I do not know whether he has any money
at all or not," answered Mrs. Paulding. He
was always a rolling stone, and I doubt if he
has gathered any moss."
"I should n't like an uncle who had about
him anything so green as moss," said Tom.
"We 'd like to see him, if he had n't a cent,"
cried Polly. But I 've read stories where
uncles came back, and were ever so rich, and
did everything you wanted, and paid off the
mortgage, and gave everybody all the money
they needed."
I 'm afraid you must n't expect that kind
of an uncle," sighed Mrs. Paulding.

"Then I wish we had a fairy godmother!"
Polly declared.
"We 've got something finer than that," said
Tom, bending forward and kissing Mrs. Paul-
ding; "we 've got a mother better than any



T must not be
supposed that
Tom Paul-
ding's whole
40 time was given
Sup to his quest
for the stolen
guineas,or that
he in any way
Neglected his
studies at
school or his
duties at home. He went to school regularly,
and he did his usual tasks much as he had done
them before he had taken up the search; per-
haps his interest in American history was a little
keener now that he felt himself in touch with
the soldiers of the Continental army. His lik-
ing for mathematics, and his ingenuity in solv-
ing problems, were no greater than before, as
the science of numbers had always been his
favorite branch of learning.
At home, as at school, life went on with the
same round of duties and pleasures, the same-
ness of which was not relieved after Tom had
set his mind on a single object. It was only on
Saturday, and then chiefly in the afternoon,
that Tom could really devote himself to his
quest. And this fixing of Tom's energies on a
private enterprise caused a loosening of the
tie that bound him to the Black Band. He
lacked the time to take part in all the elaborate
sports of his friends; and although, now and
* again, some specially wild plan of the delicate
Harry Zachary might for a moment tempt him,
he wavered for a moment only and went on his
own way with little regret, leaving his friends
to amuse themselves after their fashion.
At first this giving up of the pleasant sports of
boyhood, even for a little while, was not easy;



but as time went on, and as Tom became more
and more deeply interested in the work to
which he had given himself, he found that it
was easier and easier to turn aside from the
tempting suggestions of Harry Zachary and the
hearty invitations of Cissy Smith. It seemed
to Tom as if he had now a more serious object
in life, to gain which would relieve not only
himself, but his mother and his sister; and this
thought strengthened him, and he ceased to
regret in any way his lessened interest in the
doings of the Black Band.
On the afternoon of the Saturday when
Pauline had read his early composition on
" Money," Tom took a map he had found in
the boxes of papers. This was the map roughly
outlined by Nicholas Paulding, and it showed
the position of the American and British forces
on the night of the robbery. On it were
marked also the situation of the camp-fire
where Nicholas had slept that evening, and the
posts of the two sentries who had fired at the
thief. It showed, moreover, the course of the
little stream which separated the opposing
armies. Tom intended to compare this map
with the ground as it was now, and to see if
he could identify any of the landmarks, and
so make sure exactly where the robbery took
place and in which direction Jeffrey Kerr had
The weather was mild for the season of the
year. It was almost the middle of December,
and as yet there had been neither ice nor snow.
A bright, clear December day in New York
is, as Shakspere says of old age, frosty, but
kindly." Tom felt the bracing effect of the breeze
as he stepped briskly along. What he wished
chiefly to discover was a trace of the brook
which the map indicated as having fldwed be-
tween the camp of George Washington's men
and the camp of the men of George III. He
knew the ground fairly well already, but he did
not recall any such stream.
As he was hurrying along he came suddenly
upon a little group of the Black Band, march-
ing down the street two abreast under com-
mand of Cissy Smith, who careened at the
Hello, Tom!" cried Cissy Smith.
"Hello!" replied Tom.

Halt! commanded the leader of the Black
Band. "Break ranks! Go as you please!"
Lott twisted himself forward and greeted
Tom sneeringly:
"Hello, Curly! Are you off on your wild-
goose chase now ?"
Look here, Corkscrew, I 've told you before
that I won't be called Curly! And you sha'n't
do it any more," Tom declared indignantly.
He regretted bitterly that his dark hair per-
sisted in curling, despite his utmost endeavor to
straighten it out and to plaster it down.
"If I had hair like a girl's, all curls and
ringlets, I should n't mind being called Curly,"
Corkscrew explained, a little sulkily.
"Well, I do mind," Tom said emphatically;
"and I want it stopped."
Lott was silent. Perhaps he had no answer
ready. He was a little older than Tom, and of
late he had begun to grow at a most surprising
rate. He was already the tallest boy of the
group. Cissy Smith had said that if Corkscrew
only kept on growing, the Black Band would
make him their standard-bearer and use him as
the flagstaff, too. Lott's spare figure seemed
taller and thinner than it was because of the
high boots he always wore.
I reckon there '11 be a row between Tom
and Corkscrew, sooner or later," whispered
Harry Zachary to Smith. "They are both of
'em just spoiling for a fight."
"Tom would knock the. fight out of him
in no time," Cissy answered. "He 's well set
up, while Lott 's all out of shape, like a big
clothes-pin. If he tried to bully me, I 'd tell
him to stop it, or I 'd make him sorry."
Lott hesitated and then held out his hand to
Tom. I tell you what I '11 do," he said. I '11
agree never to call you Curly again, if you '11
take me into this search of yours. I 'd like to
know all about it, and I can find out a lot for
Oh, ho! cried Cissy. I thought you called
it a wild-goose chase ? "
"So I did," Lott replied. "But that was
only to tease Tom."
I do not want any help," Tom declared.
I '11 do what I can," urged Lott. "And
when we get it, I '11 ask for only a third of the



No," Tom replied. "I 'm going to find it
alone or not at all."
"I '11 help you for a quarter of what we
get-" Lott went on.
"There 's no use talking about it," said
Tom. "When I want a side-partner in this
business, I '11 pick one out for myself."
All right," Corkscrew answered, with a sud-
den twist which took him out of the circle.
"It's your loss, not mine. Any way, I don't
believe you '11 ever find anything, either."
At this juncture little Jimmy Wigger ran up
breathlessly and joined the group of boys.
Are you going to play any good games to-
day ?" he asked eagerly. Can't I play, too ?
I 'd have been here before, but my aunt
would n't let me till now. She 's given me
permission to be out two hours if I 'm with
Cissy or Tom, and if I promise to be very
careful and not to get my feet wet."
I '11 take care of you," said Cissy.
And we '11 let you play with us, if you are
a good boy, and don't cry," added Lott.
I have n't cried for 'most a year now," lit-
tle Jimmy declared indignantly.
"Then see you don't cry to-day," said Lott,
taking from his pocket what was apparently a
bit of wooden pencil. Oh, I say, Jimmy, just
hold this for me, will you, while I tie it ?"
"Certainly," little Jimmy replied willingly.
"Hold it this way," Lott explained, "be-
tween your thumb and your finger-so. Press
tight against each end-that 's it. Now I '11
tie the string."
As Corkscrew took hold of the threads which
came out of a hole in the middle of the pencil,
which, if pulled, would thrust two needles into
little Jimmy's hand, Tom grabbed him by the
"Drop that, Corkscrew !" he cried. You
sha'n't play that on Jimmy."
"Why not?" asked Lott. "I fooled you
with it yesterday."
I 'm old enough to take care of myself,"
Tom answered. "Jimmy is n't. Besides, he 's
just been put under my care and Cissy's for to-
Lott sullenly wound the threads about the
mean contrivance in preparing which he had
spent his study hour the day before. As he

put it in his pocket he said, I don't see why
some people can't mind their own business "
"I 'm going to make it my business to keep
you from bullying Jimmy," Tom responded.
"How are you going to do it?" sneered
I 've been able to do it so far by catching
you in time. But before we get through I
believe we shall have to fight it out," Tom
"Oh, indeed! Lott rejoined. "And who '11
take you home to your mother then ? "
"I 'm younger than you," Tom answered,
"and I 'm not so big, but I don't believe you
can hurt me. And I don't mean to have you
hurt Jimmy here. Do you understand?"
Oh, yes, I understand fast enough," Cork-
screw rejoined; "and I shall do just what I
like. So there!"
There was a little more talk among the
boys, and then they parted. The Black Band

j I i,



marched off, Cissy Smith lurching ahead as
captain, with little Jimmy Wigger and Cork-
screw Lott in the ranks together. Tom went
on his way to verify the map made by his
Just as the Black Band was going around a



corer which would take them out of sight,
Lott stopped and called back.
Tom turned in answer to this hail. What
he heard was the taunting voice of Corkscrew
shouting after him, Good-by, Curly! Curly!
Oh, Curly! Put them up in paper when you
get home! "
Tom hesitated whether he should run after
Lott and have their fight out once for all, or
whether he should pay no attention to his
words. He chose the latter course, and went
on his way again.
During the afternoon, before the early twi-
light closed in, he was able to find most of
the positions indicated on the map. Some of
them were plainly to be seen, being very little
changed from their condition the night before
the Battle of Harlem Heights. Others were
difficult to verify, because of the new streets
and the houses which had been built of late
The little brook, which was the chief object
Tom wished to trace, he succeeded at last in
locating precisely. Of course it was no longer
a brook. When streets are run across mea-
dows and through hills, the watercourses must
needs lie dry and bare. But there were several
adjoining blocks where the street-level was
higher than the original surface, and where the
vacant lots had not been filled in.
Across three of these open spaces Tom was
able to trace the course of the little stream, with
its occasional rock-bordered pools, in which fish
once used to feed, and which had become dry
and deserted. The willows which bordered one
bank of the brook were still standing. Tom
was successful in discovering even the site of
the Seven Stones which had served for a passage
across the stream where it broadened out into a
tiny pond.
In the plan made by Tom's great-grandfather
these were marked "the stepping-stones sim-
ply; but in another and rougher map, which also
Tom had found among the papers of Wyllys
Paulding, they were called the Seven Stones.
Tom was interested in identifying them, as he
thought that Jeffrey Kerr might have crossed
them in his flight from the American camp to
the British.
But as Kerr never reached the British forces,

there was no need of speculating how it was
that he might have gone if he had reached
them. This Tom felt keenly. In fact the
more he studied the situation, and the better he
became acquainted with the surroundings, the
more difficult seemed the problem of Kerr's
disappearance. When that feeling was at its
worst, he would recollect that his grandfather
had made the same inquiries he was now trying
to make, and that his grandfather had suddenly
and unhesitatingly abandoned the quest; and
the reason for this strange proceeding seemed
to Tom as hard to seek as the other.
Tom walked slowly home in the gathering
dusk of the December day. The sun was set-
ting far down across the river, and the clouds
were rosy and golden with the glow. Tom did
not see the glories of nature; his mind was busy
with his puzzles. He kept turning them over
and over again. He wished that he had some
one to whom he could talk plainly, and who
might be able to suggest some new point of
view. None of his school-fellows was available
for this purpose. Corkscrew, of course, would
not do, and Harry Zachary was too young,
while Cissy Smith was so practical and so sar-
castic sometimes that Tom hated to go to
him, although he and Cissy were the best of
His mother he was not willing to bother with
his hopes and his fears. She had her own
burdens. Besides, the delight of bringing her
money to pay off the mortgage and do with as
she pleased would be sadly damped if she had
any share in the recovery of the guineas.
Tom found himself wishing that he had some
older friend whom he could consult. He won-
dered even whether he might not do well to go
down-town and have a talk with the lawyer, Mr.
When he had climbed the steep flight of
wooden steps which led from the street to the
ground about their house, he thought he saw
Pauline at a window as though she were waiting
for him. As he drew near the porch, the front
door was opened and Pauline came flying out,
her eyes sparkling and her hair streaming out
"Tom," she cried; oh, Tom, guess who is
here! "


I can't guess," he answered. Who is it ? now he's in the parlor talking to Marmee and
It 's Uncle Dick," she answered. He waiting to see you."
came this afternoonjust after you went out, and Here, as it happened, was the very friend
I was all alone, and I had to receive him. And Tom had been hoping for.
(To be continued.)

A Year with olly

brua ny Dolly oenf to ride in a seie,
SAnd I ,oas the horse to dra. her;
She tumbled out I x)as ruLnning avay -
S' And O there v\as nobody saW) her;
P / But I found her at last in a bank of snovo,
-S *11o ,l and zosy ,
E 3S, ,.. pat) ii. .. C ]'v ,
/ '-As t it J 1- n ar 1-0 o: .


-. -T t -.

I took her in and put her to bed -
I v)as sure she must be freeing;
I rubbed her feet and I rubbed her head
For fear it v)ould set her snee3inr .
Now she v0ill soon be well, no doubt,
But I've made a resolution
To take more care v)hen she 3oes out
Of my iDolly's constitution.
VOL. XIX.-18.

-i~ -1




[Begun in ite December number.]

THE Great American Desert was almost bet-
ter known a generation ago than it is to-day.
Then thousands of the hardy Argonauts on
their way to California had traversed that fear-
ful waste on foot with their dawdling ox-teams,
and hundreds of them left their bones to bleach in
that thirsty land. The survivors of those deadly
journeys had a very vivid idea of what that
desert was; but now that we can roll across it
in less than a day in Pullman palace-cars, its
real-and still existing--horrors are largely
forgotten. I have walked its hideous length
alone and wounded, and realize something
more of it from that than a great many rail-
road journeys across it have told me. Now
every transcontinental railroad crosses the great
desert which stretches up and down the conti-
nent, west of the Rocky Mountains, for nearly
two thousand miles. The northern routes cut
its least terrible parts; but the two railroads
which traverse its southern half-the Atlantic
and Pacific Railroad and the Southern Pacific-
pierce some of its grimmest recesses.
The first scientific exploration of this region
was Lieutenant Wheeler's United States survey
about 1850; and he was first to give scientific
assurance that we had here a desert as absolute
as the Sahara. If its parched sands could speak
their record, what a story they might tell of
sufferings and death; of slow-plodding cara-
vans, whose patient oxen lifted their feet cease-
lessly from the blistering gravel; of drawn
human faces that peered at some lying image
of a placid lake, and toiled frantically on to

sink at last, hopeless and strengthless, in the hot
dust which the mirage had painted with the hues
and the very waves of water.
No one will ever know how many have
yielded to the long sleep in that inhospitable
land. Not a year passes, even now, without
record of many dying upon that desert, and of
many more who wander back, in a delirium of
thirst. Even people at the railroad stations
sometimes rove off, lured by the strange fascin-
ation of the desert, and never come back; and
of the adventurous miners who seek to probe
the golden secrets of those barren and strange-
hued ranges, there are countless victims.
A desert is not necessarily an endless, level
waste of burning sand. The Great American
Desert is full of strange, burnt, ragged moun-
tain ranges, with deceptive, sloping broad val-
leys between-though as we near its southern
end the mountains become somewhat less nu-
merous, and the sandy wastes more prominent.
There are many extinct volcanoes upon it,
and hundreds of square miles of black, brist-
ling lava-flows. A large part of it is sparsely
clothed with the hardy greasewood; but in
places not a plant of any sort breaks the
surface, as far as the eye can reach. The sum-
mer heat is unbearable, often reaching 1360
in the shade; and a piece of metal which
has been in the sun can no more be handled
than can a red-hot stove. Even in winter the
midday heat is insufferable, while at night ice
frequently forms on the water-tanks. The daily
range of temperature there is said to be the
greatest ever recorded anywhere; and a change
of 80o in a few hours is not rare.
Such violent variations are extremely trying

1 Copyright, 1891, by Charles F. Lummis.


to the human system; and among the few peo-
ple who live on the edges of the hottest of lands,
pneumonia is the commonest of diseases. The
scattered telegraph-offices along the railroad are
all built with two roofs, a couple of feet apart,
that the free passage of air may partially ward
off the fearful down-beating of the sun. There
are oases in the desert, too, chief of which are
the narrow valleys of the Mojave* River and
the lower Colorado.
It is a strange thing to see that soft green
ribbon across the molten landscape- between
lines as sharp-drawn as a fence, on one side of
which all is verdant life, and on the other, but a
foot away, all death and desolation.
The twisted ranges, which seem to have been
dropped down upon the waste, rather than up-
heaved from it, are very rich in gold and sil-
ver--a fact which has lured many a victim to
death. Their strange colors have given an ap-
propriate name to one of the largest silver-
producing districts in the United States-
it is called Calico." The curiously blended
browns and reds of these igneous rocks make
them look like the antiquated calicoes of our
As would be inferred from its temperature, the
desert is a land of fearful winds. When that
volume of hot air rises by its own lightness,
other air from the surrounding world must rush
in to take its place; and as the new ocean of
atmosphere, greater than the Mediterranean,
pours in enormous waves into its desert bed, such
winds result as few in fertile lands ever dreamed
of. The Arabian simoom is not deadlier than
the sand-storm of the Colorado Desert (as the
lower half of this region is generally called).
Express-trains cannot make head against it-
nay, sometimes they are even blown from the
track! Upon the crests of some of the ranges
are hundreds of acres buried deep in the fine,
white sand that those fearful gales scoop up by
car-loads from the plain and lift on high to fling
upon the scowling peaks thousands of feet
above. There are no snow-drifts to blockade
trains there; but it is frequently necessary to
shovel through more troublesome drifts of sand.
Man or beast caught in one of those sand-laden
tempests has little chance of escape. The man

who will lie with his head tightly wrapped in
coat or blanket and stifle there until the fury of
the storm is spent, may survive; but woe to the
poor brute whose swift feet cannot bear it be-
times to a place of refuge. There is no facing
or breathing that atmosphere of alkaline sand,
whose lightest whiff inflames eyes, nose, and
throat almost past endurance.
The few rivers of the American desert are as
strange and as treacherous as its winds. The
Colorado is the only large stream of them all,
and the only one which behaves like an ordi-
nary river. It is always turbid- and gets its
Spanish name, which means the Red," from
the color of its tide. The smaller streams are
almost invariably clear in dry weather; but in a
time of rain they become torrents not so much
of sandy water as of liquid sand! I have seen
them rolling down in freshets with waves four
feet high which seemed simply sand in flow;
and it is a fact that the bodies of those who are
drowned at such times are almost never recov-
ered. The strange river buries them forever in
its own sands. All these rivers have heads;
but hardly one of them has a mouth! They
rise in the mountains on the edge of some hap-
pier land, flow away out into the desert, making
a green gladness where their waters touch, and
finally are swallowed up forever by the thirsty
sands. The Mojave, for instance, is a beautiful
little stream, clear as crystal through the sum-
mer, only a foot or so in depth but some two
hundred feet wide. It is fifty or sixty miles
long, and its upper valley is a narrow paradise,
green with tall grasses and noble cotton-woods
that recall the stately elms of the Connecticut
Valley. But presently the grass gives place to
barren sand-banks, the hardier trees, whose roots
bore deep to drink, grow small and straggling;
and at last the river dies altogether upon the
arid plain, and leaves beyond as bare a desert
as that which borders its bright oasis-ribbon on
both sides.
It is a very curious fact that this American
Sahara, over fifteen hundred miles long from
north to south, and nearly half as wide, serves to
trip the very seasons. On its Atlantic side the
rains all come in the summer; but on the Pacific
side they are invariably in the winter, and a

* Pronounced Mo-ka/t-vy.



shower between March and October is almost
as unheard of as the proverbial thunder from
a cloudless sky.
In the southern portions of the desert are
many strange freaks of vegetable life-huge
cacti sixty feet tall, and as large around as a

ported from Africa by an enterprising Yankee
who purposed to use them in freighting across
the American Sahara. The scheme failed; the
camels escaped to the desert, made themselves
at home, and there they roam to-day, wild as
deer but apparently thriving, and now and then


barrel, with singular arms which make them look
like gigantic candelabra; smaller but equally
fantastic varieties of cactus, from the tall, lithe
ocalilla, or whipstock cactus, down to the tiny
knobs smaller than china cups, whose inno-
cent-looking needles give them a roseate halo.
The blossoms of these strange vegetable pin-
cushions (whose pins all have their points out-
ward) are invariably brilliant and beautiful.
There are countless more modest flowers, too,
in the rainy season, and then thousands of square
miles are carpeted thick with a floral carpet
that makes it hard for the traveler to believe
that he is really gazing upon a desert. There
are even date-palms--those quaint ragged
children of the tropics; and they have very
fitting company. Few people are aware that
there are wild camels in North America, but
it is none the less true. Many years ago a
number of these ships of the desert" were im-

frightening the wits out of some ignorant pros-
pector who strays into their grim domain.
There are in this desert weird and deadly
valleys which are hundreds of feet below the
level of the sea; vast deposits of pure salt,
borax, soda, and other minerals; remarkable
" mud-volcanoes" or geysers; marvelous mir-
ages and supernatural atmospheric effects,
and many other wonders. The intensely dry
air is so clear that distance seems annihilated,
and the eye loses its reckoning. Objects twenty
miles away appear to be within an easy half-
hour's walk. There are countless dry beds of
lakes of ages ago-some of them of great
extent-in whose alkaline dust no plant can
grow, and upon which a puddle of rain-water
becomes an almost deadly poison.
In the mountain-passes are trails where the
pattering feet of starveling coyotes for thousands
of years have worn a path six inches deep in the



limestone. Gaunt ravens sail staring over the
wan plains; there hairy tarantulas hop; and the
"side-winder"-the deadly, horned rattlesnake
of the desert, which gets its nickname from
its peculiar sideling motion-crawls across the
burning sands, or basks in the terrific sun
which only he and the lizards, of all created
things, can enjoy.
Within a year great interest has been excited
by the formation of the "Salton Sea." There
was no need for mystery about it-the Colo-
rado River merely broke into that strange basin
which is two hundred and sixty-eight feet below
the sea-level.
The most fatally famous part of the Great
American Desert is Death Valley, in California.
There is on all the globe no other spot more
forbidding, more desolate, more deadly. It is
a concentration of the horrors of that whole
hideous area; and it has a bitter history.
One of the most interesting and graphic
stories I ever listened to was that related to me,
several years ago, by one of the survivors of the
famous Death Valley party of 1849-the Rev.
J. W. Brier, an aged Methodist clergyman now
living in California. A party of five hundred
emigrants started on the last day of September,
1849, from the southern end of Utah to cross
the desert to the, then new, mines of California.
There were one hundred and five canvas-topped
wagons, drawn by sturdy oxen, beside which
trudged the shaggy men, rifle in hand, while
under the canvas awnings rode the women and
children. In a short time there was division
of opinion as to the proper route across that
pathless waste in front; and next day five
wagons and their people went east to reach
Santa F6 (whence there were dim Mexican trails
to Los Angeles), and the rest plunged boldly
into the desert. The party which went by way
of Santa F6 reached California in December,
after vast sufferings. The larger company trav-
eled in comfort for a few days until they reached
about where Pioche now is. Then they en-
tered the Land of Thirst; and for more than
three months wandered, lost in that realm of
horror. It was almost impossible to get wag-
ons through a country furrowed with cautions;
so they soon abandoned their vehicles, packing
what they could upon the backs of the oxen.

They struggled on to glittering lakes, only to
find them deadly poison, or but a mirage on
barren sands. Now and then a wee spring in
the mountains gave them new life. One by
one the oxen dropped, day by day the scanty
flour ran lower. Nine young men, who sepa-
rated from the rest, being stalwart and unen-
cumbered with families, reached Death Valley
ahead of the others, and were lost. Their bones
were found many years later by Governor Blais-
dell and his surveyors, who gave Death Valley
its name.
The valley lies in Inyo County, and is about


one hundred and fifty miles long. In width it
tapers from three miles at its southern end to
thirty at the northern. It is over two hundred
feet below the level of the sea. The main
party crossed it at about the middle, where it
is but a few miles wide, but suffered frightfully
there. Day by day some of their number sank
upon the burning sands never to rise. The
survivors were too weak to help the fallen.
The strongest of the whole party was ner-
vous, little Mrs. Brier, who had come to Colo-
rado an invalid, and who shared with her boys
of four, seven, and nine years of age that in-
describable tramp of nine hundred miles. For
the last three weeks she had to lift her athletic



husband from the ground every morning, and
steady him a few moments before he could
stand. She gave help to wasted giants any one
of whom, a few months before, could have
lifted her with one hand.
At last the few survivors crossed the range
which shuts off that most dreadful of deserts
from the garden of the world, and were ten-
derly nursed to health at the hacienda, or ranch
house, of a courtly Spaniard. Mr. Brier had
lost one hundred pounds in weight, and the
others were thin in proportion. When I saw
him last he was a hale old man of seventy-five,
cheerful and active, but with strange furrows

in his face to tell of those bygone sufferings.
His heroic little wife was still living, and the
boys, who had had such a bitter experience as
perhaps no other boys ever survived, are now
stalwart men.
The Great American Desert reaches from
Idaho to the Gulf of California and down into
Mexico; and includes portions of Idaho,
Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, and Cali-
fornia. There have been numerous schemes to
reclaim parts of it,-even to turning the Colo-
rado River into its southern basins,- but all
the ingenuity of man will never change most
of it from the fearful wilderness it is to-day.


IF you should go to the play some night
You '11 see in the orchestra, on the right,
A little man;
And, if he does n't astonish you
With the musical antics he goes through-
Why, nobody can!



First he plays the I-don't-know-what, whose tones
Sound just as if you were hitting bones;
Then, with a jump,
He jangles the chords of the tumty-tum,
And he 's sure to be back when the big bass drum
Requires a thump.

Next the what-you-may-call-it must be whacked;
And then from the thingummy he 'll extract
A tinny sound;
While the jiggermaree he will wake to life
Till it sets you on edges, like a knife
When it 's being ground.

And there are those round brass things, you know;
What 's the name they give 'em ?-er-er-they go
Ching-ching Ching-ching !
Wherever there comes a great big crash
He uses his feet, and makes 'em clash
Like everything!

There 's a little bald man on the other side
Who stands up and looks rather dignified;
But don't watch him ;
His fiddle 's the biggest of all, it 's true,
But the only thing he can make it do
Is to go "zim-zim!"



MY father was a rich merchant, and I natu-
rally expected that he would give me enough
to insure me a fair start in life. Consequently,
after the celebration of my twenty-first birthday,
I was not surprised when he told me that he
wished to hold a serious conversation with me
in his study. I found him sitting upon his favor-
ite green silk divan.
He motioned to me to be seated.
My son," he began, it is time you began
your career."
Most true, Parent revered," was my answer.
Unfortunately," he went on, "the pirates
have lately captured six of my largest galleys
loaded with emeralds, topazes, and notions, and
I shall be unable to provide for you as I wished
to do. But the money, which it seems was
fated to be lost, would have been only a disap-
pointment, and you can now show me what you
are capable of doing by your unaided efforts."
It is an excellent opportunity," I agreed.
"Your brothers, as you know, have already
attempted to cope with the world."
I know," I assented.
But hitherto I have not told you of their
fortunes. The King of a neighboring country
seeks a husband for his only daughter, and
promises to abdicate as soon as he has found a
suitable son-in-law for the place."
What sort of a son-in-law does his Majesty
desire ? "
He does n't say. Both of your excellent
brothers have returned to me for enough to
make a new start in life, after having failed to
win the hand of this princess."
Did they tell you of their experiences ? I
inquired with natural curiosity.
Only in the most general terms," my father
answered, smiling grimly at his own thoughts.
" They told me that each candidate had certain
tasks to perform, and agreed to leave the coun-
try forever if unsuccessful."

And my brothers failed ? "
"At the first task," said my father.
"Which was, perhaps, difficult? "
Difficult, you may well say. It was to bring
from the Hereditary Khan of Bijoutery, a proud
and warlike chieftain, his most cherished bit of
bric-h-brac, a goblet containing three priceless
amethysts, given to him by a descendant of
Haroun Alraschid. The Princess thinks she
would like to have the jewels set in her bon-
Pardon me, Papa," said I, "but I do not
know that Frankish term."
It is an outlandish name for a candy-box,"
said my father, who was simplicity itself.
Could not my brothers obtain this little fa-
vor for the gentle Princess ? was my comment.
"They escaped with their lives only by the
merest accident," said he. "The eldest made
a midnight visit to the Khan's jewel-room, was
discovered and leaped into the moat, some fifty
parasangs below, if my memory be what it was;
and then he swam four leagues, according to
his own estimate, before rising to the surface for
"And the second ?"
"Formed an alliance with a Cossack leader,
and made war upon the Khan. But the Khan
defeated them in seven pitched battles, and
that discouraged your brother so that he re-
turned home."
"Hearty commiserations for my brothers'
misfortunes! I said, after a few moments spent
in reflection. "And the Princess-is she
beautiful, that she inspires such courage and
resolution ? "
"The Princess Vanella is an exceedingly nice
girl," said my father. "She is graceful, re-
spectful to her elders, plays upon the lute like a
true daughter of the desert, makes excellent
muffins, and has the happiest disposition (next
to that of your lamented mother) I have ever


known. She is worthy of your highest ambi-
tion. To win her hand would be happiness,
even should you thereafter lose the kingdom
that goes with her. And those realms, my
son," added my father, with a sigh, are always
slipping through one's fingers! "
In silence I waited my father's recovery from
his emotion. My loved parent had lost several
kingdoms already-not by carelessness, but
through misfortune. From our earliest days my
mother taught us never to remind papa of the
thrones that were once his. She was always
"Why should I not undertake this adventure
in my turn ? I asked soon after.
"So I asked your brothers; but they were
inclined to ridicule the idea."
"' Ultimate ridicule is most satisfactory,' I
suggested, quoting a proverb of my native land.
No doubt," my father agreed, nodding his
great white turban. Really, your chances are
excellent. The fairy stories are all in your
favor. You are the third son, and I have noth-
ing to give you; your elder brothers have failed,
and scorn your desire to at-
tempt the tasks. You will,
when you go, have only your
father's blessing which I
will furnish. All seems favor-
able. But are you stupid
enough? There I cannot
help you. The true stupidity
is natural, not acquired." "'4.
I will be as stupid as I
can," said I, with proud
humility. "The lovely Prin-
cess Vanella shall be mine.
I am enchanted with her al- /- '
ready. She shall be mine."
"Enough!" said my father;
and I withdrew.
In a few days I started,
with my father's blessing,
carrying all my possessions in a silk hand-
kerchief slung from a stout staff. Upon my
way I kept a sharp lookout for old men with
bundles of fagots too heavy for their strength,
aged women asking alms, and, in fact, for all
unattractive wayfarers; for I knew that fairies
were likely to take such forms.

And my vigilance was rewarded. At the
first cross-roads I saw an ancient beggar crone
hurling stones at a tree with more earnestness
than aim.
"What seek ye, honest dame? I inquired
in an anxious tone as a rock avoided the tree
and came most marvelously close to my right
"Alas! My best bonnet has flown on the
zephyr's wing, and roosts in yon tree," she re-
plied, poising another boulder.
Resolved to stop the bombardment at any
cost, I spoke hastily:
Nay, pelt not the shrub! Care thou for my
burden, and I will scale the branches and rescue
the errant triumph of the milliner's art! "
My language was romantic in those days,
perhaps too romantic, for she failed to catch
my meaning, and waved the stone uneasily.
"Hold on! I said. Drop the rock, and
I '11 get the bonnet. If you hit it, you might
smash all the style out of it."
My praise of her bonnet was not unpleasant
to her, for when I brought it she said gratefully:

a -

"You are a noble youth. I have little with
which to reward you; but give me the pen and
inkhom that dangles from your belt, and a bit
of parchment. I can write you a line that may
aid you in time of need."
Convinced that she was a fairy, I obeyed.
She wrote a few words in a crabbed hand, and


advised me to read them when I was in need
of counsel.
Give you good day, fair youth," said she,
Fare thee well, gentle dame," I replied, re-
moving my right slipper, which is a token of
respect in my native land.
1 met with but one other adventure on my
way to the Khan's palace. I rescued an em-
erald-green parrot from a cat, and seeing no
dwelling near carried the pretty creature with
On the eighth day after leaving my father's
house, I was ushered by two gorgeous guards
into the courtyard of the palace where the
beautiful Vanella dwelt. My heart beat rap-
turously, and I felt so young, so brave, and so
strong that I feared neither the King nor his
I happened to arrive just when the King was
holding audience, and he was graciously pleased
to see me without more than three or four hours'
delay in the anteroom.
When the curtained doorway was opened I
advanced into the audience-hall and saw -
For seventeen minutes I saw nothing but the
Princess! In fact, the guards had just been or-
dered to show me out, as a dumb and senseless
wanderer, when I came to myself, and began
to catch sight of the King dimly through the
edges of the glory which in my eyes surrounded
the Princess.
"Pardon, father of Vanella the peerless,"
said I, "the stupefaction of one who indeed
knew your daughter to be beautiful, but had
no idea vhat a pretty girl she was. I never
saw any princess who can hold a rushlight to
her; and it was very sudden. I am better
"We are glad you are better," said the King,
" and hope you will soon be well enough to tell
us what you wish."
"I have come to marry Her Effulgent Per-
fectness the Princess Vanella! "
Yes? said the King, with a slightly sarcas-
tic air.
"Provided I can win her," I added. "And
that we shall soon see."
I think the old man liked my courage. At

all events, he called me to him, and presented
me to the Princess. For he was a very sensi-
ble ruler and an indulgent father; and he had
no idea of marrying his daughter to any man
she did n't think worthy of her. So in all cases,
permission had to be given by the Princess be-
fore the candidate could begin the ordeal.
But so beautiful was Vanella, and so eager
were the young nobility to win her hand, that
they all looked handsome and daring when in
her presence. I think I must have been attrac-
tive in those days, for Vanella says now that
she never admired me more than when I was
first presented to her. It was love at first sight
on both sides. In fact, after we had conversed
a few minutes, the Princess told me that she was
"sorry the tests were so awfully difficult, and
she did n't care so very much about the goblet,
after all, though of course she would like it, if it
was n't too much trouble to get it."
No trouble at all," said I. I would get it
for you, even if you did n't want it at all."
She looked pleased and then frowned.
"I mean," I added hastily, "I 'd get it if
you wanted it, even if you did n't care whether
I got it or not."
She seemed to understand me perfectly.
"I shall start after luncheon," I said. "And,
before I go, is there anything else of the Khan's
that you 'd like ? It's no bother to me to get
you the whole treasury if you 'd care for it."
"The goblet will do," she said, blushing
charmingly, and looking at her father to see
whether he was listening. He was n't.
"Papa," said Vanella, "it 's all right."
"Eh? What 's all right ?"
"He 's going, after luncheon."
"Who is ?"
"This young gentleman."
"Oh, yes," said the King. "Very well. I
suppose he will get the goblet first. Yes ? Well,
then, good-by, my young friend. Good-by."
"Au revoir," I answered, in the Frankish
Can you not leave the parrot ? suggested
Vanella. I adore green parrots -of that
particular shade of green, I mean!"
"With pleasure," I answered with a grateful
glance. "May I ask you to allow it to remind
you of me ? "



The color will help," said the King, a little
maliciously, I thought. So I hurried away
without further delay.
As there were no modern systems of rapid
transit, I traveled speedily but comfortably to-
ward Bijoutery, thinking so constantly of the
Princess that I never reflected upon how I was
to obtain possession of the goblet until I found
myself upon the frontier. Then I was stopped
by an outpost of the Khan's army.
"Who goes there ? he inquired, as he drew
his bow and adjusted an arrow to the string.
Goes where ?" I asked, waking up from a
brown study, for I was a little abstracted.
"Wherever you are going," he explained,
lowering his bow.
"Why, I do, I suppose," I answered, a little
annoyed by the question, which was absurd on
the face of it.
Well, what do you want ?" he asked.
"I want to marry the Princess Vanella," I
said, absent-mindedly.
"Why don't you, then? the soldier inquired,
smiling indulgently.
She has sent me to get the Khan's goblet,"
I said, for I had no wish to go about the enter-
prise in any underhand manner.
I did n't know he was going to send it to
her," said the sentinel.
Perhaps he won't after all," I said frankly.
"Maybe not," answered the soldier; "he
thinks a great deal of it. But I suppose she
would n't have sent you unless she thought he
would let you have it. Would she, now?"
he asked. He seemed to be proud of his
Well, she might," I said, cautiously. But
if he does n't care to give it to me, he can say
So he can," said the soldier. I wish you
good luck."
Thanking him for his kindness, I went on my
way. It did n't occur to me until afterward
that the soldier thought I was a mere messen-
ger sent by the Princess according to some
arrangement between the Khan and herself.
Once within the frontier, I had no further
difficulty until I reached the Khan's castle. I
attributed my good fortune thus far to the fact
that I had minded my own business. It is so

much easier to go into a foreign country by
yourself than it is to get in at the head of an
army. My brother expected to be stopped, and
he was stopped. I took it for granted that I
could go in, and they let me in. It was very
simple indeed.
Now another problem confronted me. Here
was a strong castle built on a rocky promontory
surrounded on three sides by the sea, and on the
fourth defended by a lofty wall of hewn stone.
I went to the drawbridge gate and blew the
Hullo Who 's there ?" said a gruff voice.
"It 's a gentleman to see the Khan," I said.
"Where is he ? asked the voice, through an
iron lattice.
"I am the gentleman," I replied.
Go away, boy!" said the voice, and the
latticed window was shut.
This was discouraging.
"What would the Princess say if she saw me
now ?" I thought, and then I returned to the
gate and again winded the trumpet. No an-
swer. I kept on winding the trumpet, but
without result. At last, having blown so hard
that I broke it, I was in despair.
I sat me down on the bank of the moat and
threw stones into the water, with a strong desire
to throw myself in after them.
Then I remembered the bit of parchment
which the old woman had given me, and con-
cluded it was time to use it. At first I hesi-
tated, because I thought I should perhaps need
the charm when I came to the other tasks
which the King would set me. However, rea-
soning that I should never come to the second
task until the first was performed, I drew out
the bit of writing and read:
That was all it said. Bitterly disappointed,
I flung it after the stones into the moat. But
I could n't forget it. And as I began to think
it over, I found the advice good.
"What is it I want to do ? I asked myself.
"Why, to get at the Khan and his goblet."
Now, the thing that stopped me was simply a
stone wall and a locked gate; and I was n't
anxious to get into the castle. I wanted to
communicate with the gentleman of the house.




Nothing could be simpler. I still had my
writing-materials, and in a few moments I had
written a note and tossed it over the wall. It
was as follows:
ken the trumpet at the gate, and can't get an answer. I
come directly from the princess Vanella, who wishes the
great goblet which is decorated with amethysts. What
are you afraid of? I am only a single young man with-
out weapons, and promise not to hurt you. I await your
answer. But if I do not receive some proper recognition
within a reasonable time, I shall report your discourtesy
to Princess Vanella and her royal father.
This letter was of course handed to the Khan
as soon as it was picked up, and I was admitted
at once to his presence.
He demanded an explanation of my letter,
and I told him just how the matter stood.
"I did n't believe you would allow a paltry
bit of glassware and jewelry to stand between a
young man and happiness -especially when a
lady had asked for it. In my own country, we
never refuse any reasonable request a lady
makes; and in spite of reports to the contrary,
I knew you to be too brave and great a man to
depend upon the possession of a few gems for

your renown. So, instead of bringing an army,-
which, of course, you would easily defeat, thus
causing much trouble and distress,--I thought
I would see what you wished to do about it."
The Khan said not a word during my expla-
nation. Then taking the crystal goblet from the
top of his sideboard, he handed it to me, saying:
Young man, you have my best wishes. You
have acted like a gentleman in the whole mat-
ter. I believe your name is Kaba ben Ephraf,
is n't it ?"
I nodded.
"Well, was n't there a ben Ephraf whom I
defeated a few months ago ? "
"My brother," I explained.
"Yes, yes! said the old gentleman. "He
sent me a demand for the goblet, but as he
did n't explain what he wished it for, of course
I considered the message impertinent, and re-
fused it. It is n't the gems I care for; but I do
insist upon being approached in a proper spirit.
I am fond of romance, myself, and if you and
the Princess care to visit me some time, I '11 show
you my jewels. I have barrels of them. I am
tired of them-so tired of them that I prefer
paste for personal use."


I looked uneasily at the goblet in my hand.
Oh, that is all genuine," he said. You are
quite welcome to it. But," he added, after a
pause, when you come to the throne, there 's a
little province that abuts on my dominions, and
if you could see the way to transfer it to me-
why, favors between friends, you know-"
I begged him to receive the assurances of my
wish to oblige him in any reasonable request,
and we parted in the best of humor.
"By the way," said he, as he pressed my
hand in parting, "that gatekeeper who called
you 'boy'-"
"Oh, let it go," I said.
"He has already been beheaded, or some-
thing," said the Khan. "I 'm sorry, if you
would have preferred to forgive him."
"It 's of no consequence," I said.


"None whatever," said the Khan good-
humoredly. Good-by."
I returned to the frontier in the Khan's pri-
vate carriage, and had a pleasant trip back to
the palace. Like many other distinguished
people, the Khan had been misunderstood.
My meeting with Vanella was joyful, and she
received the goblet with exclamations of ad-
miration and gratitude.

The King invited me to stay to supper, infor-
mally; and we had the most delicious muffins I
ever ate. The Princess has never been able to
make them taste quite so good again. She says
that they were then flavored with our first happi-
ness; but I insist that it was simply a larger
portion of sugar.
Next morning, bright and early, I announced
to the King that I was ready for the second
"It is a sweet little puzzle," said the King.
" My daughter has another name than Vanella,
known only to herself and to me. We have
vowed never to tell the name to any human
being. You must find out by to-morrow morn-
ing what that name is."
I was much discouraged, and did not see how
it was possible for me to perform this task. I
returned to my own room in the palace and
racked my brains in vain all day. There seemed
no possible clue to the mystery, and the longer
I thought of the difficulty of the task, the bluer
I became. Just at nightfall there came a light
footstep at my door and then a soft knock.
Come in," I said in a hollow voice.
It was one of the Princess's attendants.
"The Princess Vanella's compliments," said
the maiden, and she says this parrot chatters
so that she cannot sleep at night. She requests
you to take charge of him yourself." She bowed
and retired.
She cares no longer for me or my presents!"
said I, bitterly.
Then I put upon a table the golden cage in
which the parrot was confined, and threw myself
upon the divan without undressing.
"Alas!" I said bitterly, "I have deceived
the Khan! I shall never be able to learn the
name and I can never give him the province
he desires. Unhappy ben Ephraf! "
"Mrs. ben Ephraf! said the parrot.
"Hush! I said ill-naturedly.
"Vanella,Vanella; Strawberria, Strawberria!"
repeated the parrot slowly and impressively.
It did not require a remarkably keen intellect
to comprehend the Princess's kindly hint. I
went cheerfully to sleep, slept soundly till morn-
ing, and awoke ready to resume the tests.
But when I had guessed the name Straw-
berria," much to the King's surprise, Vanella




objected to putting me through any further
trials, and as there was no reason for delay we
were married within a few weeks.
We invited the Khan to the wedding, and he
proved an excellent dancer and most agreeable
Vanella was delighted with him, and he sent
her fourteen mule-loads of jewels as a wedding

present. My father also came to the wedding
and gave me his hearty congratulations.
"You have won a prize, my son," he said.
And so it proved.
NOTE.--Any one who will give a green parrot a good
home and kind treatment, may have one free by applying
to Mrs. ben Ephraf at the palace, any week-day between
eleven and three o'clock.


UNDER a toadstool
Crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain
To shelter himself.

Under the toadstool,
Sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse
All in a heap.

I [rrm .nled thewee Elf,
S Fr- ltened, and yet
F. ringg to fly away
Lest he get wet.

i': t[li. ne\t shelter-
lI.\-b. a mile!
nudd,:nr tlhe wee Elf
'nmided a wee smile,

TiitLeed till the toadstool
T.:'-.led in two.
SHo:lding it over him
'oAi}. G 'ily he flew.

Soon he was safe home
_, Dry as could be.
.:Soon woke the Dormouse-
, "Good gracious me!

Where is my toadstool ? "
Loud he lamented.
-And that 's how umbrellas
First were invented.




N olden times the gal-
leys or war-ships used
by the Romans and
In the Carthaginians were
driven along by oars
and sails. They had
neither guns, steam-
power, nor the com-
pass, and so must be
steered cautiously from point to point of the
coast on the way to their distant battle-ground
(if the scene of a naval engagement can be
so called).
Steering from one well-known headland to
another by day was not so hard; but when
storms arose, and the ship was blown out of
sight of land, and the darkness of night fell on
the sea, the mariner had many an anxious mo-
ment until daylight revealed once more some
well-known landfall, as the first sight of land
at sea is called by sailors.

The whereabouts of harbors in those times
was shown at night by fires kept constantly
burning on the nearest headland, or, when the
coast was low, on a high tower near the en-
trance of the port, and sometimes on light-ships
anchored off shore. Occasionally, if the port
was a wealthy one, they built an immense stone
tower called a "pharos," on the top of which
wood-fires were kept burning day and night.
These lights were visible from a great distance
at sea; and the coasts at that time must have
been pretty with these twinkling lights, the
flaming pharos, and the lights upon passing
As science taught the modern world to light
its coasts with other and stronger lights of
great power, these were used almost entirely
by lighthouses; and war-ships, through all ages
and down to within a few years, still used oil-
lamps and common candles or "dips." Even
the great Nelson, as he walked the quarter-deck


of the "Victory," did so by the light of lanterns. zon, spread out over a vast expanse of water,
These were placed at the stern of the ship, and or narrowed down to a thread-like beam of
were very large; but, as far as light, revealing with blinding intensity every-
giving light is concerned, they thing within its range, and bringing up objects
were not so good as the open out of the darkness, with a silvery sheen
wood-fires carried by the an- beautiful to behold.
cient Roman galleys. Some of A fine exhibition of its splen-
the stern-lanterns used by the C ..". did equipment of electric lights
French and Spanish fleets which -was recently given by the White
fought with Nelson were large Squadron" on the Hudson River,
enough to hold several men, and near New York city; and some
were of very elegant design and finish. of those who paid taxes to build
At length, however, electric lighting was these vessels had an opportunity
invented. The maritime world, till then to see what our Navy Department
content with the old methods of lighting, ~ had accomplished. It is safe to
soon blossomed and flashed with the radi- say that all who saw that wonder-
ance of electricity. Now, no first-class modern ful display were convinced that no
ship, whether a man-of-war or a passenger- AN OLD-TIME STEN- enemy could steal up undiscovered
steamer, is complete without its sets of inside LANTERN. to attack those ships by night.
lamps and outside search-lights, and the modern The picture shows several of these vessels
voyager has his own pharos, not only to warn moving "in line of battle," each lighting up
others from his path, but to discover by night with its friendly search-light the water beside
the rocky cape or wandering iceberg. the one ahead, and thereby making a bright strip
The electric search-light is so mounted that around its companion vessel, through which no
its rays can be swept for miles around the hori- torpedo-boat could advance unseen.




[Begun in the January number.]
NOT many children can boast of having two
homes; some, alas! have hardly one. But we
actually had two abiding-places, both of which
were so dear to us that we loved them equally.
First, there was Green Peace. When our
mother first came to the place, and saw the
fair garden, and the house with its lawn and
its shadowing trees, she gave it this name, half
in sport, and the title clung to it always.
The house itself was pleasant. The original
building, nearly two hundred years old, was
low and squat, with low-studded rooms, and
great posts in the corners, and small many-paned
windows. As I recall it now, it consisted largely
of cupboards-the queerest cupboards that
ever were, some square and some three-cor-
nered, and others of no shape at all. They were
squeezed into staircase walls, they lurked be-
side chimneys, they were down near the floor,
they were close beneath the ceiling. It was as
if a child had built the house for the express
purpose of playing hide-and-seek in it. Ah,
how we children did play hide-and-seek there!
To lie curled up in the darkest corner of the
"twisty" cupboard, that went burrowing in
under the front stairs; to lie curled up there,
eating an apple, and hear the chase go clatter-
ing and thumping by-that was a sensation!
Then the stairs! There was not very much
of them, for a tall man, standing on the ground
floor, could touch the top step with his hand.
But they had a great deal of variety; no two
steps went the same way; they seemed to have
fallen out with each other, and never to have
" inade up" again. When you had once
learned how to go up and down, it was very
well, except in the dark, and even then you
had only to remember that you must tread on
VOL. XIX.-19. 2

the farther side of the first two steps, and on
the hither side of the next three, and in the
middle of four after, and then you were near
the top or the bottom, as the case might be, and
could scramble or jump for it. But it was not
well for strangers to go up and down those stairs.
There was another flight that was even more
perilous, but our father had it boarded over,
as he thought it unsafe for any one to use.
One always had a shiver, in passing through a
certain dark passage, when one felt boards in-
stead of plaster under one's hand, and knew
that behind those boards lurked the hidden
staircase. There was something uncanny about
"O'er all there hung the shadow of a fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted."
Perhaps the legend of the hidden staircase was
all the more awful because it was never told.
Just to the right of the school-room, a door
opened into the new part of the house, which
our father had built. The first room was the
great dining-room, and very great it was. On
the floor was a wonderful carpet, all in one
piece, which was made in France and had be-
longed to Joseph Bonaparte, a brother of the
great Emperor. In the middle was a medal-
lion of Napoleon and Marie Louise, with sun-
rays about them; then came a great circle,
with strange beasts on it ramping and roaring
(only they roared silently); and then a plain
space, and in the corners birds and fishes, such
as never were seen in air or sea. Yes, that wase
a carpet! It was here we danced the wonderful
dances. We hopped round and round the cir-
cle, and we stamped on the beasts and the
fishes, but it was not good manners to step
on the Emperor and Empress-one must go
round them. Here our mother sang to us;
but the singing belongs to another chapter.
The great dining-room had a roof all to it-
self-a flat roof, covered with tar and gravel, and


railed in, so that one could lie on one's face and
kick one's heels, pick out white pebbles, and
punch the bubbles of tar all hot in the sun.
But, after all, we did not stay in the house
much. Why should we, with the garden calling
us out with its thousand voices ? On each side
of the house lay an oval lawn, green as emerald.
One lawn had the laburnum-tree, where, at the
right time of year, we sat under a shower of fra-
grant gold; the other had the three hawthorn-
trees, one with white blossoms, another with pink,
and a third with deep red, roselike flowers.
Other trees were there, but I do not remember
them. Directly in front of the house stood two
giant Balm-of-Gilead trees, towering over the
low-roofed dwelling. These trees were favorites
of ours, for at a certain time they dropped down
to us thousands and thousands of sticky cat-
kins, full of the most charming silky cotton. We
called them the cottonwool trees," and loved
them tenderly. Then, between the trees, a flight
of steps plunged down to the greenhouse. A
curious place this was-summer-house, hot-
house, and bowling-alley all in one. The sum-
mer-house part was not very interesting, being
all filled with seeds and pots, and dry bulbs, and
the like. But from it a swing-door opened
into- Elysium! Here the air was soft and
balmy, and full of the smell of roses. One went
down two steps, and there were the roses! Great
vines, trained along the walls, heavy with long
white or yellow or tea-colored buds ; I remem-
ber no red ones. Mr. Arrow, the gardener,
never let us touch the roses, and he never gave
us a bud; but when a rose was fully open,
showing its golden heart, he would often pick it
for us, with a sigh, but a kind look, too. Mr.
Arrow was an Englishman, stout and red-faced.
Julia made a rime about him once, beginning,

"Poor Mr. Arrow, he once was narrow,
But that was a long time ago."

Midway in the long glass-covered building
was a tiny oval pond, lined with green moss. I
think it once had goldfish in it, but they did
not thrive. When Mr. Arrow was gone to din-
ner, it was pleasant to fill the brass syringe with
water from this pond, and squirt at the roses,
and feel the heavy drops plashing back in one's
upturned face, Sometimes a child fell into the

pond, but as the water was only four or five
inches deep, no harm was done save to stock-
ings and petticoats.
The bowling-alley was divided by a low par-
tition from the hothouse, so that, when we
went to play at Planets, we breathed the same
soft perfumed air. The planets were the balls.
The biggest one was Uranus, then came Saturn,
and so on down to Mercury, a little dot of a
ball. They were of some dark, hard, foreign
wood, very smooth, with a dusky polish. It
was a great delight to roll them, either over the
smooth floor, against the ninepins, or along the
rack at the side. When one rolled Uranus or
Jupiter, it sounded like thunder- Olympian
thunder, suggestive of angry gods. Then the
musical tinkle of the pins, as they clinked and
fell together! Sometimes they were British
soldiers, and we the Continentals firing the
"iron six-pounder" from the other end of the
battle-field. Sometimes, regardless of dates, we
introduced artillery into the Trojan war, and
Hector bowled Achilles off his legs, or vice
The bowling-alley was also used for other
sports. It was here that Flossy gave a grand
party for Cotchy," her precious Maltese cat.
All the cat-owning little girls in the neighbor-
hood were invited, and about twelve came, each
bringing her pet in a basket. Cotchy was beauti-
fully dressed in a cherry-colored ribbon, which
set off her gray satiny coat to perfection. She
received her guests with much dignity, but was
not inclined to do much toward entertaining
them. Flossy tried to make the twelve cats
play with one another, but they were shy on first
acquaintance, and a little stiff. Perhaps Flossy
did not, in those days, know the proper etiquette
for introducing cats, though since then she has
studied all kinds of etiquette thoroughly. But
the little girls enjoyed themselves, if the cats did
not, and there was a great deal of chattering
and comparing notes. Then came the feast,
which consisted of milk and fish-bones, and next
every cat had her nose buttered by way of des-
sert. Altogether, the party was voted a great
Below, and on both sides of the greenhouse,
the fertile ground was set thick with fruit-trees,
our father's special pride. The pears and peaches



of Green Peace were known far and wide. I
have never seen such peaches since, nor is it
only the halo of childish recollection that shines
around them, for others bear the same testimony.
Crimson-glowing, golden-hearted, smooth and
perfect as a baby's cheek, each one was a thing
of wonder and beauty; and, when you ate one,
you ate summer and sunshine. Our father gave
us a great deal of fruit, but we were never al-
lowed to take it ourselves without permission.
Indeed, I doubt if it ever occurred to us to do
so. One of us still remembers the thrill of hor-
ror she felt when a lit-
tle girl, who had come
to spend the afternoon,
picked up a fallen
peach and ate it, with-
out asking leave. It- -
seemed a dreadful
thing not to know that. Ar.
the garden was a field
of honor. As to the
proverbial sweetness
of stolen fruit, we knew -
nothing about it. The
fruit was sweet enough
from our dear father's
hand, and, as I said, he- --
gave us plenty of it.
How was it, I .
wonder, that this sense=--
of honor seemed some-
times to stay in the
garden and not al-
ways to come into the
house ? For as I write THI
the thought comes to me of a day when Laura
was found with her feet sticking out of the
sugar-barrel, into which she had fallen head
foremost while trying to get a lump of sugar.
She has never eaten a lump of sugar, save in
her tea, since that day. Also, it is recorded of
Flossy and Julia that, being one day at the In-
stitution, they found the store-room open, and
went in, against the law. There was a beauti-
ful polished tank which appeared to be full of
rich brown syrup. Julia and Flossy liked syrup;
so each filled a mug, and then they counted
one, two, three, and each took a good draught,
- and it was train-oil !

But in both these cases the culprits were
hardly out of babyhood, so perhaps they had
not yet learned about the "broad stone of
honor," on which it is good to set one's feet.
I must not leave the garden without speak-
ing of the cherry-trees. These must have
been planted by early settlers, perhaps by the
same hand that planned the crooked stairs and
quaint cupboards of the old house enormous
trees, gnarled and twisted like ancient apple-
trees, and as sturdy as they. They had been
grafted- whether by our father's or some earlier

.- -. '-

hand I know not- with the finest varieties of
"white-hearts and "black-hearts," and they
bore amazing quantities of cherries. These at-
tracted flocks of birds, which our father in vain
tried to frighten away with scarecrows. Once
he put the cat in a bird-cage and hung her up
in the white-heart tree, but the birds soon found
that she could not get at them, and poor pussy
was so miserable that she was quickly released.
I perceive that we shall not get to the sum-
mer home in this chapter; but I must say a
word about the Institution for the Blind, which
was within a few minutes' walk of Green Peace.
Many of our happiest hours were spent in


this pleasant place, the home of patient cheer-
fulness and earnest work. We often went to
play with the blind children, when our lessons
and theirs were over, and they came trooping
out into the sunny playground. I do not think
it occurred to us to pity these boys and girls
deprived of one of the chief sources of pleasure
in life; they were so happy, so merry, that we
took their blindness as a matter of course.
Our father often gave us baskets of fruit to take
to them. That was a great pleasure. We loved
to turn the great globe in the hall, and, shutting
our eyes, pass our fingers over the raised sur-
faces, trying to find different places. We often
"played blind," and tried to read the great
books with raised print, but never succeeded
that I remember. The printing-office was a
wonderful place to linger in; and one could
often get pieces of marbled paper, which was


r i

valuable in the paper-doll world. Then there
was the gymnasium, with hanging rings, and its
wonderful tilt which went up so high that it
took one's breath away. Just beyond the gym-
nasium were some small rooms in which were
stored worn-out pianos, disabled after years of
service under practising fingers. It was very
good fun to play on a worn-out piano. There

were always a good many notes that really
sounded, and they had quite individual sounds,
not like those of common pianos; then there
were some notes that buzzed, and some that
growled, and some that made no noise at all.
And one could poke in under the cover and
twang the strings, and play with the chamois-
leather things that went flop (we have since
learned that they are called hammers), and
sometimes pull them out, though that seemed
Then there was the matron's room, where we
were always made welcome by the sweet and
gracious woman who still makes sunshine in that
place by her lovely presence. Dear Miss M-
was never out of patience with our pranks,
had always a picture-book or a flower or a curi-
osity to show us, and often a story to tell, when a
spare half-hour came. For her did Flossy and
Julia act their most thrilling tragedies, no other
spectators being admitted. To her did Harry
and Laura confide their infant joys and woes.
Other friends will have a chapter to themselves,
but it seems most fitting to speak of this friend
here, in telling of the home she has made bright
for over fifty years.
Over the way from the Institution stood the
workshop, where blind men and women, many
of them graduates of the Institution, made mat-
tresses and pillows, mats and brooms. This
was another favorite haunt of ours. There was
a stuffy but not unpleasant smell of feathers
and hemp about the place. I should know
that smell if I met it in Siberia! There were
coils of rope, sometimes so large that one could
squat down and hide in the middle, piles of
hemp, and dark, mysterious bins full of curled
hair, white and black. There was a dreadful
mystery about the black-hair bin-the little ones
ran past it with their heads turned away-but
they never told what it was, and one of them
never knew.
But the crowning joy of the workshop was
the feather-room-a long room, with smooth
clean floor; along one side of it were divi-
sions, like the stalls in a stable, and each divi-
sion was half-filled with feathers. Boy and
girl readers will understand what a joy this
must have been! -to sit down in the feathers,
and let them cover you up to the neck, and be



a setting hen! or to lie at full length and be a
traveler lost in the snow, Harry making it snow
feathers till you were all covered up, and then
turning into -the faithful hound and dragging
you out! or to play the game of "Winds," and
blow the feathers about the room! But Old Mar-
garet did not allow this last game, and we could
do it only when she happened to go out for a
moment, which was not very often. Old Mar-
garet was the presiding genius of the feather-
room, a half-blind woman, who kept the feathers
in order and helped to sew up the pillows and
mattresses. She was always kind to us, and let
us rake feathers with the great wooden rake as
much as we would. Later, when Laura was
perhaps ten years old, she used to go and read
to Old Margaret. Mrs. Browning's poems were

making a new world for the child at that time,
and she never felt a moment's doubt about the
old woman's enjoying them; in after years
doubts did occur to her.
It was probably a quaint picture, if any one
had looked in upon it: the long, low room,
with the feather-heaps, white and dusky gray;
the half-blind, withered crone, nodding over
her knitting, and the earnest little child, throw-
ing her whole soul into the Romaunt of the
Page," or the "Rhyme of the Duchess May."
"Oh the little birds sang east,
And the little birds sang west,
Toll slowly! "
The first sound of the words carries me back
through the years to the feather-room and old,
blind Margaret.

(To be continued.)



The Scissors: "Now what's the matter with you that you're looking
so alarmed?"
The Pincushion: Do you know, I 've swallowed a pin! "


Rr-r-r-r-r-rat-a-tat-tat, a-rat-a-tat-tat!
Is the national air of the rollicking rat.




Opossum: "What is new in Winter styles ?"
Hare: Ears and hind legs are to be worn long- tails short."



[Beg7n in the November number.]


THE next day was Saturday, and a holiday
for Mildred. Leslie Morton came to see her
in the morning as she had said she would do.
Mildred had made up her mind, the night be-
fore, that she would accept that challenge to
run a foot-race with her, as soon as she came.
But when she saw Leslie she felt so shy about
it that she was glad the matter was not men-
"I 'm ever so glad that you came," said
Mildred. Let's go up-stairs, and I '11 show
you my play-room and my dolls."
Now if there was one spot in the old-fash-
ioned, yellow-brick house on Sixteenth street
that Mildred was fonder of than another, it was
the attic up under the steep roof. It was all
her own to do as she liked in, and all of her
playthings were there. It was a very large
room, indeed, with a low ceiling. The ceiling
began at about four feet from the floor, and
sloped up to the middle like a tent. At each
end was a big brick chimney coming up from
the floor on its way out through the roof, as
if they were the tent-poles. Then on the
side facing the street, where the roof sloped
down, were the two queer little dormers, like
passageways, ending in windows which opened
out as shutters do. From these you could see
the Capitol, and the Smithsonian Institution,
and the Washington monument, and a great
many other places.
In one of these little alcoves Mildred had
put some doll's chairs, and a little bedstead and
a bureau, and she had laid a piece of carpet
on the floor.
"What a big, lovely room it is! said Leslie,
looking around the garret. "Why, you could
have lots of fun up here!" And then she began
to dance over the spacious floor until at last she
stopped in front of Mildred again, quite out of

breath, and exclaimed, That 's fine! There 's
room enough to give a party. And would n't
it make a splendid place for a theater, though ?
Charlie would make a theater out of it in a
"Would he ?" said Mildred, a little doubt-
fully. Oh, but," she added, suddenly clapping
her hands, I have n't shown you my best doll! "
She was a blond doll, having curly flaxen hair,
and blue eyes, and she was dressed in a black
silk frock, which was very becoming to her.
"There," said Mildred, showing her to Les-
lie, "don't you think she 's pretty ? Her name
is Marie."
Is it ? said Leslie, just glancing at the doll.
"Yes, she is pretty. You could swing a ham-
mock up in here, too," she added, looking
Have you got any dolls ? asked Mildred,
feeling not quite satisfied with Leslie's interest
in Marie.
No," said Leslie, promptly. I gave them
all away, long ago. Oh!" she exclaimed, dart-
ing over to the window, there 's a pigeon! "
Why did you give your dolls away ?" said
Mildred, slowly following her.
Oh, because," said Leslie, laughing, I 'm
too old to play with dolls any more. I never
cared very much for them, anyway. Is that the
Capitol, over there ? "
"Yes," said Mildred. Then, while Leslie
was staring out of the window, she looked
down at the pretty Marie in her black silk
dress. Somehow Marie did not seem such a
treasure as she had seemed before. Mildred
thought to herself that she was twelve years
old now, and she felt a bit abashed to think
that she had been so eager to show Leslie her
dolls. She remembered, too, that some of the
girls at school had laughed at her for playing
with them. And old Mrs. Seller had met her
once when she was wheeling her doll-carriage
on the pavement and said, Dear, dear, what


a big girl to be playing with dolls!" But
old Mrs. Seller always was saying something
disagreeable. Still, Mildred wondered whether
Leslie thought her silly. Just then Leslie turned
away from the window and said, What shall
we play? "
I don't know," said Mildred. I guess I
don't care to play with the dolls. Maybe I am
getting too old." But as soon as she had said
this, Mildred repented it. She felt as if she
had been disloyal to Marie and her other old
playmates just to please this new friend. So
she added quickly, while the color came into her
face, But I would n't give them away for any-
thing in the world! "
Why, what's the matter ? said Leslie, star-
ing at Mildred's flushed face. "I did n't say
anything about your dolls to hurt your feelings,
did I? I didn't mean to."
"No," said Mildred, holding herself very
straight, "but -but some of the girls at school
do laugh at-at other girls for playing with
Well, goodness! burst out Leslie," let them
laugh. I guess it does n't hurt anybody. If I
liked dolls and wanted to play with them, I 'd
play with them if all the girls in school were
to stand up in a row and laugh till they cried.
I guess they'd get tired of it before I would."
Mildred nodded her head in assent, too much
overcome by Leslie's unexpected and sturdy
sympathy and encouragement to say much.
Oh," she said, suddenly awakening to the fact
that Leslie was her guest, and it was her place
to entertain, I '11 tell you what let's do. Let's
play house. This window shall be your house,
and this one shall be mine. And there are some
old dresses and things in this trunk that mama
lets me play with, and we will put them on, and
then I '11 come and call on you, and you can
come and call on me-will you? "
"All right," said Leslie; "that will be fun."
"The things are in this trunk," said Mildred,
going to a queer little trunk that stood in the
corner of the attic with a lot of other trunks
and boxes, a spinning-wheel, some disused
furniture with spindle-legs, and all sorts of odds
and ends. This particular trunk was made of
cowhide with the hair on it, and all around
the edges it was studded with brass-headed

nails, and on the end were the initials J. H.
F. in brass-headed nails, and altogether it
was very old-fashioned, and much worn and
battered. Leslie had never seen a trunk like
that, and its oddity was quite enough to start
her laughter afresh.
"It belonged to my great-grandfather's
brother," said Mildred, with dignity, "John
Henry Fairleigh. He was a lieutenant in the
navy ever so long ago."
"Was he? said Leslie.
"Yes," said Mildred. He was with Lieu-
tenant Decatur in the war with Tripoli. All
the other countries were afraid of Tripoli, 'cause
the people there were pirates, and they paid
them money to get them to leave them alone.
But we did n't. We fought them, and made
them leave us alone. And my great-grand-
father's brother, he was in one of the ships that
fought the pirates. It was named the Phila-
delphia.' And while it was running after the
pirates it ran on a rock. And then the pirates
came and took them all prisoners."
"Did they? said Leslie, beginning to get
interested. What did they do with them?
Cut their heads off?"
No," said Mildred. They took them on
shore and kept them there."
"Then they could n't have been real pi-
rates," said Leslie; because real pirates would
have cut their heads off, or made them walk
the plank. I know, 'cause Charlie used to tell
me all about them out of a book he had."
"Well, these did n't," said Mildred, shaking
her head very positively; and they were real
pirates, too, because Amanda says they were.
They just took them on shore and kept them
there. And some of the pirates kept the ship,
though they could n't get it to go, because it
was stuck on the rocks. And Lieutenant De-
catur he was on another ship, and one day he
went away off, and got a boat that looked just
like the boats the pirates had. And in the
evening he sailed right up to the Philadelphia,
and the pirates did n't know that he was an
American, 'cause he was in one of their kind of
boats. So then he jumped on the Philadel-
phia, and drove all the pirates into the sea."
"All by himself? exclaimed Leslie.
"Oh, no," said Mildred; "he had some



other sailors with him. And then he set fire
to the Philadelphia, and burned it up, and the
pirates were so scared that they gave up my
great-grandfather's brother and all the rest of
the prisoners."
What 's in the trunk ? asked Leslie. "Are
there any of the pirates' things ? "
Oh, no," said Mildred; "only some old
dresses that mama gave me for my dolls."
And Mildred opened the trunk and pulled
out some faded finery that had been part of a
ball-dress some fifty years ago, a black silk skirt,
stained and torn, and other odds and ends that
would have found their way into the rag-bag
had not Mildred begged them for her dolls.
"Now," said Mildred, "you put on some,
and I '11 put on some."
And, laughing a great deal, they dressed
themselves in the long skirts and tied pieces of
lace and ribbons around their necks, and then
Leslie began to parade around the room, singing:
"Hark! hark! The dogs do bark.
The beggars are coming to town,
Some in rags and some in tags,
And some in velvet gowns."
Just at that moment a strange voice was heard
saying: Hullo! May I come in? "
Mildred looked up with a little gasp, and saw
a strange boy standing in the doorway.
"Why, Charlie Morton!" cried Leslie.
"What are you doing here? Nobody asked
you to come."
Ma sent me for you," said the boy; "and
the colored girl down-stairs told me you were
up here, so up I came."
He was a nice-looking boy, tall and slender,
with blond hair cropped close to his head,
and gray eyes with black lashes, which made
them look curiously dark. He had a rather
large mouth like Leslie's, but otherwise he did
not resemble his sister. He did not laugh at
everything, as she did; on the contrary, he
seemed rather solemn, so that when Mildred
found him looking at her she was very much
disconcerted, and began hurriedly to take off
her ragged finery. But Leslie interposed, and
said, Oh, don't mind him."
"No," said the boy, "don't mind me. Go
ahead with your fun. My goodness! what a
jolly big room! "

"I don't believe ma wants me at all," said
Do you suppose I 'd come tramping all
the way up here after a little girl like you, if I
did n't have to ?" said her brother. Don't
flatter yourself, madam. I 've too many other
things to do."
"Honor bright ?" said Leslie.
Honor bright," said Charlie. "You 're not
polite," he added. "Why don't you introduce
me to your friend ?"
"Oh," said Leslie, I forgot. Mildred, this
is my brother, Charlie."
Then Mildred shook hands with the boy, and
Leslie, bemoaning the necessity of having to go
home so soon, began taking off her costume.
"This would make a gorgeous theater," said
Charlie, looking around the room.
"There! cried Leslie, stopping her work
and looking at Mildred; what did I tell you?"
By this time both of the girls were ready, and
they all started down-stairs. When they reached
the second floor, Leslie said, "I '11 beat you
down!" and sitting sidewise on the banister,
she slid down the short length to the first
landing where the steps made a turn.
"You tomboy! said her brother.
Charlie shook his head disapprovingly, and
said to Mildred, I wonder what you think of
her, at any rate ?"
And Mildred, remembering what she had said
of Leslie to her mother, blushed guiltily and did
not reply.
"You see," said her brother, apologetically,
"she 's been petted and spoiled. She 's been
used to living in a garrison where she had all
outdoors to play in, and the officers and men
made a great deal of her. She will learn quieter
ways after a while. I hope you '11 like her. I
know you will," he added; "everybody is fond
of Les." Charlie said this as if he was ten
years older than his sister, instead of three.

LESLIE was right when she said that she
supposed that she would have to go to school,
now that she was living in Washington. This
had been the principal subject of conversation
between her mother and Mrs. Fairleigh, on the
day that Mildred and Leslie first met. And


when Mrs. Morton learned what school Mil-
dred attended, she declared that she would send
Leslie there,.too. An omnibus, on the side of
which was painted Loring Seminary," went
around each morning for the day-scholars, and
brought them home in the afternoon. In this
way Mildred met Leslie regularly, and soon
they became quite intimate; and Mildred found,
as Charlie had said, that she was beginning to

intimate with them than Mildred was, although
Mildred had been going to the school for two
years. Not that Leslie seemed to try especially
to make friends; she was simply companionable,
that was all. She was ever ready to laugh and
talk with anybody and everybody, and conse-
quently there was always a little group of girls
around her.
Mildred, on the contrary, was somewhat shy

-;, .: ,, ,,
.'D -'"4 ":" "" 1; 'I,
N ,i(

like Leslie. In fact Mildred was secretly a little
surprised when she thought how quickly this
friendship had grown. She had not a great
many intimate friends, and those she had were
among the children of families who, like her
own, had lived in Washington a great many
years; all of which friendships were very serious
affairs with Mildred, the growth of her lifetime.
Therefore she was surprised at the rapidity with
which she and Leslie had become acquainted.
But she was still more surprised at the rapid-
ity with which Leslie became friends with all
of the girls of her own age in the school. A
week after her entrance she knew them all by
name, and in a month she was a great deal more

and reserved. As I have said, she had but few
intimates whose arms would naturally slip
around her waist for a confidential walk and
talk during recess. Therefore, in Leslie's first
few weeks at school, she quickly formed so
many new and closer friendships with girls
whom Mildred scarcely knew, that Mildred be-
gan to have less and less of her companionship.
She had felt a little hurt at this, at first, and had
let Leslie see that she felt hurt; but Leslie de-
clared that it was not her fault. Why don't
you be more sociable ? she said. "What 's
the use of poking off by yourself, or with that
haughty Blanche Howes all the time! You'd
have lots more fun if you went with us, and I



try to get you to. You know I do. I keep
asking you and asking you over and over, only
you won't."
This was true. But it was not precisely
what Mildred had in mind. She had expected
that Leslie, being her friend, would be content
to go with her alone, and not care for the so-
ciety of all the other girls, too. But as Leslie
did not seem to think of the matter in this way,
Mildred did not like to explain it to her, so she
said nothing at all.
Then Leslie said, "You 're not angry with
me, are you? "
"No," said Mildred; "of course not. You
have a right to go with whoever you choose."
At the same time there was no denying that
Mildred was secretly disappointed with Leslie.
But -Leslie, on the contrary, was quite satis-
fied when Mildred said that she was not dis-
pleased. And when she was not visiting
elsewhere, or having some girl visit her, she
would run over to Mildred's house and play
with her as usual. And after a while Mildred
began to understand Leslie better, and to see
that she could not fashion her friends on a pat-
tern of her own, but would have to accept them
as she found them.
Charlie, too, was now going to school. Be-
fore his father had been ordered to Washington
he had been attending a boarding-school in
New York. But now he was living at home
and going to school in the city. He was
preparing for college, and he had to study
very hard; at least Charlie said so, although
he seemed to have plenty of time for other
One afternoon Mildred's mother had gone
out, leaving Mildred alone; so she went to
Leslie's house to ask Leslie to come and play
with her. The servant told her that Leslie was
in the library with her brother. This room
was not exactly a library, but a place where
Captain Morton had a desk and a few books,
and it was here that the children studied their
lessons. When Mildred opened the door, she
found no one but Charlie there. He was lying
on the rug with his chin on his hands, gazing
at the fire.
Come in !" he said, rising as he saw Mildred,
and offering her a chair. Are you looking for

Leslie? She just went up-stairs. Sit down;
she '11 be back in a minute."
Mildred by this time had become well ac-
quainted with Charlie, so she sat down and,
noticing a book lying on the rug, said, What
were you reading? "
I was n't reading," he replied; I was study-
ing geometry, but I got to thinking, instead."
"What about?" said Mildred, with ready
sympathy; for she herself had a habit of
thinking when she ought to be studying.
"Well," said Charlie, dreamily, "I got to
thinking what an awful lot there is in the world
to learn. Now there 's that geometry," he
continued, touching the book with his foot;
"that seems pretty hard when you 're just be-
ginning to tackle it, but it's nothing to algebra,
and algebra is easy compared to trigonome-
try, I 'm told, and trig. is just A, B, C to
calculus, and when you get to calculus, you
find you 're just about ready to begin what
they call higher mathematics. Same way with
everything," continued Charlie, shaking his
head at the fire. Here I am studying just as
hard as I can for college,-just to get ready for
college, mind you,-and when I get to college
I '11 have to work like a horse for four years
just to get ready for studying some profession.
And I 've heard my father say that a man
sometimes does n't master his profession till he 's
forty. And here I am, only sixteen. It does n't
seem worth the trouble, does it ? And Char-
lie looked up at Mildred so dolefully that she
could not help laughing. "That's all right,"
he said; "you can laugh. You 're a girl, and
don't have to work as men do, you know."
I did n't mean to laugh," said Mildred;
"only you looked so funny. Don't you wish
that you were a girl ? Then you would n't have
to study all those things ? "
"Who Me ?" exclaimed Charlie, scornfully.
"Not much, I don't !"
"But then you would n't have to study so
hard, and learn a profession," persisted Mildred.
"Well, I 'd rather study," said Charlie.
"Besides that," he added, looking back at the
fire, when you come to think of it, it is n't so
bad, after all. It 's fun to find out about all
sorts of things. It 's like going into a strange
land. You don't know what is before you,



nor what may happen to you. Who knows,
maybe some day I might be looking at the fire
like this and discover something very wonderful
just as What 's-his-name did when he saw the
steam lifting the lid of the kettle ? "
"I don't see why you should n't," said Mil-
dred, earnestly.
Now that's the way I like a girl to talk,"
said Charlie, looking up at Mildred approvingly.
"That's what I like about you; you 're not
always making fun of a fellow. Now, some day,
if I should ever become a great lawyer or engi-
neer, or anything, I '11 call around on you, and
say, Miss Fairleigh' (you 'll be a young lady
then, you know), do you remember the after-
noon we were sitting by the fire together in that
house on Seventeenth street? '- and so forth.
And you '11 say, Yes'; and I '11 say, 'Well,
look at me now; I 'm a shining light in my
profession!' And then you '11 say,' Did n't I
tell you so!' And you '11 ask me in and feed
me on tea and sponge-cake." (These were two
things of which Charlie was very fond.)
They both laughed at this brilliant flight of
fancy, and then Mildred said: But really,
what are you going to be, Charlie ?"
"I don't know," he replied. "My father
wants me to be a civil engineer, but I think I 'd
rather be an artist."
"What kind of an artist ? said Mildred.
"Why, a painter," said Charlie. That 's the
only kind of an artist I ever heard of. No, it
is n't, either. Come to think of it, there 's a
barber down on Pennsylvania Avenue who 's
got a sign,' Tonsorial Artist.' But I don't think
I 'd like to be a barber," he added.
"Well, I should think not!" exclaimed Mil-
dred, indignantly.
I used to think that I would be a pirate,"
said Charlie. That was ever so many years
ago, when I was reading a book about pirates.
And I made Les, who was a little thing then,
walk the plank into a tub of water, and I got
such a punishment for it that I never wanted
to be a pirate since. But I think that I really
should like to be an artist. I never showed
you any of my pictures, did I ?"
No," said Mildred.
Then Charlie got up, and opening a drawer
of his father's desk, took out a little portfolio and

handed it to Mildred. "They 're not very good,
of course," he said; but still-"
And he waited for Mildred to speak. The
pictures were water-colors, and to Mildred they
seemed beautiful, and so she told him frankly,
at which Charlie blushed a little, and said:
Pa says this one is pretty good. The cow
is not quite right. I don't know what 's the
matter with her, but she looks more like a zebra
than a cow. Still, it 's the best of the lot. I
don't suppose you 'd care to have it to stick up
in your garret parlor, would you ?"
"Do you mean to give it to me ? said Mil-
dred, looking up in pleased surprise.
"Yes, if you care for it," said Charlie.
"Why, of course I care for it," said Mildred,
enthusiastically. But then," she added, "per-
haps I ought not to take it, because your father
thinks it is the best, and he might not want you
to give it to me."
Oh, that 's all right," said Charlie. Pa
has all he wants of my works of art."
At this moment Leslie came in.
"Why, Dreddy," she said (" Dreddy" was a
name she had given Mildred), I did n't know
you were here. Has Charlie been showing you
his pictures ? "
- "Yes," said Mildred, "and he has given me
this. Is n't it pretty ? "
"Why, Charlie Morton! exclaimed Leslie,
"you mean thing! You never gave me one of
your pictures "
You never said you wanted one," said
"I have, too!" retorted Leslie. "-Lots of
times; and I think you 're real mean!"
"You can have one now if you want it.
Take your choice," said Charlie.
Then Leslie, laughing a good deal, appealed
to Mildred for her opinion, and finally chose
one, which she afterward left lying on a chair.
Now, will you come over to my house?"
said Mildred. I want to show you what I am
making for Christmas."
"May I come too ? said Charlie. "I 'd
like to see it."
"It 's nothing that you 'd care to see," said
Mildred. It's only a tidy."
But I 'm a fine judge of tidies," said Char-
lie; "you'd better let me come."



So then they all went together to Mildred's
house; and while Mildred was in her room
getting the tidy, Leslie and her brother went up
to the attic. Mildred kept the tidy hidden
away very carefully, because it was to be a
surprise for her mother, and so it took her some
little time to get it. When she finally went up-
stairs to rejoin them, she heard them talking
together, and when she went in the room she
heard Charlie say, Hush! here she is now,"
and they both stopped talking, and Leslie be-
gan to laugh. Then her brother said, Now,
remember! You 've promised! "
"What is it? What 's the matter?" said
Mildred, looking from one to the other.
It 's a secret.! cried Leslie, dancing up
and down.
Is it about me ? said Mildred.
"Yes," said Leslie, nodding her head several
Now, Leslie," said her brother, "that 's
not fair!"
"I don't like you to have a secret about
me," said Mildred.
"Oh, but it 's a nice secret," said Leslie,
" and you '11 know some day."
Is that the tidy ? said Charlie. Let me
see. Why, I think that 's very swell. How did
you make all those holes in it? "
"Holes!" shouted Leslie. That shows
how much boys know about such things.
Those are not holes."
I don't believe you know any more about
it than I do!" said Charlie. "You never do
any of that kind of work."
Well, but I can," said Leslie. That 's
what you call drawn-work, and you pull the
threads out to make it. Don't you, Dreddy ?"
Mildred nodded her head. She was thinking
about the secret.
"Well, I think you are very clever to make
it," said Charlie. Will you have it done in
time for Christmas ?"
Of course," said Mildred; this is only No-
vember, and it does n't take very long. Christ-
mas won't be here for a month yet. Only I 've
got other things to make."
"What do you do on Christmas ? said Les-
lie. "Do you have a Christmas tree ? "
No," said Mildred, "but I get lots of pres-

ents, and have lots and lots of fun." And her
brown eyes sparkled at the thought of it.
"I don't believe we '11 have a good time at
all this Christmas," said Leslie, gloomily. "In
garrison we always had a splendid time. Oh,
say, Charlie! she suddenly exclaimed, "do you
remember that Christmas at Fort Jones? The
snow," she continued, turning to Mildred, "was
that deep on the parade-ground," and she held
her hand about two feet from the floor. "And
in the drifts it was 'way over your head. And
the mail-rider had to go on snow-shoes all the
Sway to Crazy Dog station. And the freighters
were snowed up so that all the things we had
sent for for Christmas did n't get to the post-
oh, for ever so long after Christmas. But we
had a lovely time, just the same. All the offi-
cers and everybody got together and fixed us
up a Christmas tree. Charlie, don't you re-
member Mr. Hartley,-he was quartermaster,
you know."
"We made everything ourselves that we put
on the tree," said Charlie. "And there were
presents for everybody, grown people as well as
the children. Mr. Saddler, he got a gingercake
doll, and pa got a great big pair of moccasins.
Mr. Sabrely was the cleverest, though. He
made Leslie a set of dolls' furniture-every-
thing, parlor and bedroom and dining-room; it
was awfully nice. And he made me a base-ball.
And he got a lot of new tin from the quarter-
master and cut it in thin strips-you know how
tin curls up when you cut it with shears-and
he hung those little curls on the tree, and they
shone just as bright and looked as pretty as the
real things you buy in a store. And he made
for the tree a lot of little flags, out of silk."
Oh, we had all sorts of things," Charlie
went on. "I don't remember half of them.
We had the tree in a big log-house they used for
a theater or ball-room, or anything like that.
It was all decorated with evergreens, and flags,
and guns, and sabers. And the tree looked
fine. We had lots of pop-corn and made strings
of it, and one of the officers,-I don't remember
now who it was,-he got some glue and some
powdered mica out of the quartermaster's stores,
and he dipped apples and nuts in the glue and
then powdered them with mica, so that they
looked as if they were covered with frost."



"I should n't think you 'd want to eat them
after that," said Mildred.
"We did n't mean to eat them, goosie," said
Leslie; "they were to hang on the tree."
"Oh!" said Mildred.
"Then we bought a lot of candles from the
commissary," continued Charlie, and painted
them red, and blue, and all sorts of colors, and
stuck them up on the tree; only they kept fall-
ing down all the time, and they had to put
two soldiers there to look out for them. And
after that we had a dance. Old O'Shaugh-
nessy, of pa's troop, played the fiddle, and one
of the music-boys out of D company played
the flute, and Smith played the guitar. You
remember Smith, don't you, Les ? He deserted
the next spring."
Leslie nodded her head in assent.
"What is deserted' ?" asked Mildred.
"Ran away," said Charlie. "He was in the
guard-house half the time. But he could play
the guitar beautifully."
And after the dance," Leslie chimed in, we
had supper. It was nearly all commissary
things, but it was pretty nice -all except the ice-
cream. Mr. Saddler tried to make that out of
condensed milk and snow, and it was horrid."
"I tell you what," said Charlie, shaking his
head thoughtfully, that was a hard winter.
We were snowed in for nearly four months, and
'most all the cattle on the ranges died, and even
the coyotes would come right into the post at
night, and sit on the parade-ground and howl,
'cause they were so hungry. But we had a
pretty good time. The soldiers used to have a
show nearly every week, and sometimes the
officers would give one. Oh, say! I tell you,"
he exclaimed suddenly, why can't we get up
some charades, or something ? "
"Oh, yes!" cried Leslie, clapping her hands.
How do you mean ?" said Mildred. "I
don't understand."
Did n't you ever act in a play ? said Les-
lie. It 's more fun! I acted once in a play
that Mr. Sabrely wrote, called The Last Nail
in the Shoe; or, the Farrier's Ruse.' That was
at Fort Gila, ever so long ago. I was the far-
rier's daughter, and Charlie was my brother,
and we were lost out on the plains, and had
to sleep out there, and Charlie took off his coat

and put it over me, and the audience all ap-
plauded like anything! Did n't they, Charlie?"
"Yes," said Charlie, only Rags' spoilt it all.
Rags was a little spaniel that Mr. Sabrely gave
Les," Charlie explained to Mildred. He was
only a puppy and did n't have much sense, and
when he saw Les and me lying there on the
stage, he thought- we were playing, and he ran
up and began to bark at us, and got hold of a
corner of the coat, and pulled and tugged at it,
and tried to get it away from Les, and then
everybody commenced to laugh. But say, I
don't see why we can't get up a play. There 's
Mildred, and you, and me, and we can get
Frank Woods, and one other girl, and that will
be enough."
"Good gracious! exclaimed Mildred, draw-
ing back, I can't act."
"Yes, you can," said Charlie. I know you
can. That's one thing that made me think of it.
Have n't you noticed, Les, that whenever Mil-
dred gets interested in anything she's saying
that she makes little gestures with her hands
and her head. That's all that you 've got to
do when you act. I never could get Les to
do it. Why, the way you said you could n't
act, just now, was fine. Good gracious, I can't
act! '" and Charlie drew himself back and threw
up his hands in imitation of Mildred, so that
Leslie laughed, and Mildred blushed, but then
laughed, too, and was rather pleased than other-
But I don't think mama would let me," she
Oh, yes, she would," said Leslie.
"But I 'd be afraid," said Mildred. "I
would n't like to do it before a whole lot of
"But there won't be a whole lot of people,"
said Charlie. Only your mother and father,
and my mother and father, and girls and boys
that we all know. It 's all right, at home. Ma
would n't let us act except at home, or in a garri-
son where we know everybody. You ask your
mother. I know she won't mind. And then,"
continued Charlie, growing quite enthusiastic
over the idea, this would be a splendid place
to have theatricals up here. And you 've got
so many jolly things we could use,-that old
spinning-wheel and those old dresses. I believe



I could write a play myselt, and make it take
place a long time ago, when they used spinning-
wheels, and the men wore wigs and gold-lace on
their coats, and the ladies powdered their hair,
and all that, like those pictures you've got down-
stairs. We'd look fine, I tell you!" and Charlie
nodded his head several times in admiration of
their appearance. "Ask your mother, will you?"
"Well, yes," replied Mildred, doubtfully.
"I '11 ask her, but really I don't believe she
will like me to do it."
Well, I '11 tell you," said Charlie. When
she comes home, we '11 all go down and ask
her. How would that do ?"

"All right," said Mildred, somewhat relieved;
"that's what we 'd better do, 'cause I don't
know enough about it to explain it to mama."
"What do you call her 'mama' for? said
Leslie. "Why don't you call her 'ma' ?"
Why, because," said Mildred, I 've always
called her 'mama.' There she is now," she
continued, as the front door was heard to close.
All right," said Charlie; you go down first.
Maybe some one is with her."
So Mildred went, and finding her mother alone,
delivered her message. Then she came out, and
calling to Charlie and Leslie, who were leaning
over the banisters, they all went in together.

(To be continued.)

By ANN 1'--- rL; r

ERE yet the niigh .:-i' Ei,.i .,,- ,. '!:, h ;
umphed C.'..r hi- .,... ...'
Ere on the fiell ., ..i ..... .i 1 1l.... r *
Bloody R.-. .. '
King Richard TI i m ,:,d,_ iii nL. ,:,'ri *I. j: i ..:l -o'id : & A ''W
o'er fell,
W ith tw enty g lIlt -, .ii.-tl ni- I rt,.,.' .l. t :.:i- *, .
full well!
There was C:,.:;L.. in.l N.:rih!lt,l, .-rljin.:l, .:Ind
N orfolk sti...11i :i.l I.. 1.1.
With seven other Einlihh I"e.-;, Ik.1m i. Itl :n.l.
from wold.

They chased the deer from thicket thro' bracken and thro' glade,
With yelping hounds and trampling steeds the forest pathway made;
They drave the deer o'er stony crags, neathh mighty fern and tree,
Till the weakest strained them forward and drew breath pantingly,-

' I' *


But, lo! the King's horse staggers, and his rider, spent at last,
Sees the chase go sweeping by him, ever faster and more fast,
And the tott'ring steed, now struggling in the agonies of death,
Throws his master on the greensward,- helpless, senseless, without breath.

But little hands have raised him, and soft voices whisper low,
While on his misty eyesight now the leafy arches grow;
Two children of .the forest," clinging, timid, sorely shy,
Bring the fallen hunter's senses from the death he else might die.
"Wind the horn, child! Norfolk! Catesby!--'T is no use, the chase is hot!
But they must return to seek me, so I will not leave this spot.
Ah, what mishap Brave White Surrey, strong of limb, and keen of sight,
You would never leave your master here, in this confounded plight!"
The wide-eyed children, wondering at the trappings rich with gold,
Never heed the restless glances, and the cruel eye, and cold,
For the glance toward them was softened and the harsh voice gentler grew,
As he said, with hand extended to the pair that nearer drew,

"Ah, little ones, I thank ye for a kindly deed, in truth!
-' "" -. '- }^.^.' -"" "
I 'i% ,

-. ,- -:. ,

Tell me your names, I pray you?" "I am Edwyn; this is Ruth.
What is yours ? The guileless question makes the dark smile keen and quick.
Mine you ask? You see it on me. People call me 'Crooked Dick.'
._ .- t-- ..

"Ah, little ones, I thank ye for a kindly deed, in truth!
Tell me your names, I pray you?" "I am Edwyn; this is Ruth.
What is yours? The guileless question makes the dark smile keen and quick.
"Mine you ask? You see it on me. People call me 'Crooked Dick.'


,... *-' j


For I bear my shoulders weighted with a weight of bitter woe;
Are n't you frightened at a cripple ? "
Quick the answer: "Frightened? No."
"Why, there are Joan and Margery"-they said, in loving tone,
"There 's nobody in all the shire that has not heard of Joan.
She 's on her couch the livelong day, and all night racked with pain.
We children bring her marigolds to make her well again.
She tells us fairy-stories, and she knows each flower's name,
While she draws us pretty faces, and never two the same.
And she sits out by the cottage door, all in the yellow sun,
And sings us merry ballads-oh, Joan is full of fun!
And mother says," the voice was awed, "the King 's a cripple too!
And has a big hump on his back, and suffers just like you!
And you know, sir,--oh, you must know, that his Majesty the King
Is the greatest man in England, and the head of everything!"


The huntsman cleared his throat and laughed, a loud laugh and a long,
And a robin swinging overhead stopped suddenly his song,
VOL. XIX.-20.




For the laugh was not a merry one. The King 's a cripple, eh ?
And does he, too, bear his burden with patience day by day?"
Oh, sir, you 're laughing at me; I 'm but a little thing.
Of course, there 's no one in the land so good as is our King!
Why, everybody honors him,- in church his name is read;
I always say, God bless the King,' before I go to bed!"

A clatter in the bushes, a hurried, panting breath,
The trample of a speeded horse, a courtier white as death.
"My liege! you're safe? "-he cried, and dropped in haste on bended knee;
"The others follow fast, my horse the swiftest carried me.
We thought you lost! -"
"Begone at once! and leave us here alone!
Come, little one, take you this purse and give it to poor Joan,
From a cripple to a cripple,- and remember Crooked Dick'
The mischief take this dusty day, the very air is thick!"
He stooped and kissed the upturned mouth, left in the hand a ring
Bearing the arms of England, the signet of the King 1
Then, turning not to right or left, strode silently away,
Half blinded by a something which was not the dusty day.

The two ran home in wonder. Oh, Father, Father, see!
We met a huntsman in the woods, and this he gave to me!
His dress was of green velvet, his housings all of gold,
And he kissed me very kindly, although his eyes were cold-
But, Father!" here the brown eyes filled, the voice with sobs grew thick,
" He says that people laugh at him and call him 'Crooked Dick'!"

,, ,, .. ,; ,. :;i -
..,, h li r4 -/ 1,

., ,., '" .. .,..,_
"'- .. .. .i ,.., 'i- ...... .: -" "..o



Five little holes in Baby's shoe?
Five round buttons to slip through,

First one says III begin
second one says- tLet me in!
Third one says- can try
fourth one says Oh how high
rifth one says- oom for me?

Sheen pops his head up just to seel



BY L. N. W.

IT had often occurred to the writer of this
paper that a vast field for research lay open to
the student who would devise a system or
method by which to gage the spirits of people.
With such a system we should not say, on
being asked how we were," Pretty well," "Quite
well," or "So-so," but we should be able to
reply to our friends' inquiries that we were at 20,
40, or 60, as the case might be.
Now, without any idea of offering such a
system, the author has recorded here- simply a
few facts which took place in a certain family--
which we will call the Thompsons.
Mrs. Thompson, with her daughter Seraphina
Angelina, had decided upon paying a visit to
relatives at some distance, leaving behind the
head of the family and the two boys, Alfred,
aged fifteen, and Harry, aged nine years. Be-
fore her departure Mrs. Thompson had serious
misgivings as to the state of the spirits of the
family during her absence, and repeatedly urged
each one left behind to "be sure to write."
Her husband promised faithfully to keep her
advised as to the state of affairs, and to this end
it was decided, after consultation with Alfred,
that the spirits of the family might be faithfully
recorded from the emotions of Harry; for it was
self-evident that if he was not down-hearted the
others would be all right. Then again, Harry,
being the -youngest, and free from outside cares,
would not be affected by causes which might
disturb the other members of the family. Thus,
silence on the part of the head of the family, or
absent-mindedness at the breakfast-table, might
be due to anxiety for the welfare of the recently
planted strawberries, but this would have no
effect whatever upon his general spirits when
recalled to himself. Or, in the case of Alfred, a
tendency to rise discontentedly from the break-
fast-table, or to look serious, might be due to
anxiety on his part as to how long the home-
made bread would last; whether there was

in the kettle water enough to wash the dishes;
whether he could pick and shell peas enough
for dinner in time to cook them that day, and
so on. But if Harry was observed to eat his
breakfast slowly, to sit still in his chair after
having pushed it back from the table, or to
stand by the side of his papa's chair with a
pensive, far-off look in his eyes, then the spirits
of the family took a downward course. When,
on the other hand, Harry forgot to shut the
door after him, put very large pieces of bread
into his mouth, or whistled at table, then the
spirits of the family were certainly rising.
The chart shows the rise and fall during the
first week of Mrs. Thompson's absence.

THE curve starts at 50 on Monday, the day
of his mother's departure, descending rapidly,
toward evening, and reaching the lowest point
about eight o'clock, shortly after the departure
of the train, when the curve indicates so.
On Tuesday there was a slight improvement,
and the curve rises to 20, which improvement
was maintained throughout the day.
The rise to 30 on Wednesday morning was
due to a decided improvement in the weather
and to the prospect of remunerative employ-
ment next day in a neighbor's garden. There
was a steady improvement during the day, so
that the curve reached 40 at night.
Thursday there was a steady and continuous
rise. In the morning Harry and his particu-
lar chum, Billy Brown, each made ten cents by
weeding the neighbor's garden; at noon a fine
dinner was prepared by Alfred, consisting of
peas from the Thompson garden, and there
was said to be a prospect of beans from the
same source on the following day. In the
afternoon Harry's father employed the two boys
in his garden, so that in the evening Harry was
possessed of the sum of twenty cents. A part


of this sum he expended on cakes; with the rest
he bought a so-called" Fisherman's Outfit," and
closed the day with a curve record of 70o.
Thursday's high mark was maintained on
Friday morning, as it was a perfect day. The
fishing-tackle was tested, in company with two
young friends, on a neighboring pond. At
noon, however, there was a fall to 60, due to
the fact that it was not deemed wise to allow
him to go fishing again in the afternoon; but

being due, possibly, to a reaction from the pre-
vious evening's excitement. It rises to 80 in the
evening, after an afternoon spent on the pond
with papa and Alfred, and a trip down-town.
This high point is maintained throughout
Sunday; but on Monday morning there is a
decided fall, as it was very hard to induce him
to eat any breakfast. Alfred suggested that
the line should not go too low on this occa-
sion, as he thought the depression was largely

Crosr Seeliotj~frmn



al | | |I


the curve rises to 90 in the evening, when he
went out to tea at the Rectory, where he con-
ducted himself beautifully. He had water-ice
for the first time, and was delighted when he
found that a whole plateful of bonbons had
been provided for his special benefit. The
curve on this night would have gone up to ioo,
but it was found that this point could not be
reached until his mother's return, for, on the
way home, being asked if he had not had a
royal good time, he said, Yes, I had a lovely
time, and I think all the Rectors are lovely, but
-I 'd like to see mama."
The curve falls to 70 on Saturday morning, this

due to the fact that Harry was up quite late
on the preceding evening; he also stated that
he had observed similar depressions even when
their mother was at home. However, in spite
of the fact that the curve went down to 40,
the recovery was rapid, so that at noon-the
end of the first week- Harry is found seated
under the awning, his friend by his side, a large
tin dish containing half of a good-sized water-
melon on his knee, and, as he slices it up, call-
ing to his father, who is just leaving the house,
" I shall want a pretty high mark now, Papa."
So Mr. Thompson has no hesitation in putting
him up as high as 90.


THEY sent me to bed, dear, so dreadfully early,
I had n't a moment to talk to my girlie;
But while Nurse is getting her dinner, down-stairs,
I '11 rock you a little and hear you your prayers.


Cud-dle down, dol-ly, Cud-dle down, dear! Here on my shoulder you've nothing to fear.

J : -' -S-: y- -o- _. .-i -s- -o- -.
That's what Mama sings to me ev erynight, Cud-dle down, dol-lydear, shut your eyes tight!

Not comfor'ble, dolly?-or why do you fidget?
You 're hurting my shoulder, you troublesome midget!
Perhaps it 's that hole that you told me about.
Why, darling, your sawdust is trick-ker-iing out!


We '11 call the good doctor in, right straight away;
That can't be neglected a single more day;
I '11 wet my new hankchif and tie it round tight,
'T will keep you from suffering pains in the night.

I hope you 've been good, little dolly, to-day,
Not cross to your nursie, nor rude in your play;
Nor dabbled your feet in those puddles of water
The way you did yesterday, bad little daughter!
Oh, dear! I 'm so sleepy-can't hold up my head,
I '11 sing one more verse, then I '11 creep into bed.

^-ao-4-z---- __. _____ _ ______

Cud-dle down, dol- ly, here on my arm, Nothing shall frighten you, nothing shall harm.
-^4 F ---- E--=t== --:-^ c- -l_-=_

Slowly and softly.

Cud-die down sweetly, my lit tie pink rose, Good angels come now and guard thy re pose.

(A Jingle in French.)


JE chante de ma poupde fran9aise,
Qui n'a jamais des humeurs mauvais'es!
Elle est toujours tris gaie,
Elle parle ou se tait
Comme je veux--elle est "Edisonaise."


I""-- FROM "FIDO."


T. NICHOLAS: I am a pet dog named Fido. I belong
to a little girl whose name is Sally. She has always
been very good to me, and I never snap nor growl
"- at her, for I do not need to. But I have some young
puppies to bring up, and do not like the way she treats
them. I am too shy to speak to her about this; but, as she reads your
magazine, I have made up my mind to write you a letter so that you can
print it. Then she )Will read it, and it will make her stop doing the things
I do not like.
While puppies are small it is good for them to sleep nearly all the time.
Now, as soon as I have put mine to sleep, Sally is sure to come and take
one of them to play with. What would she think if I went up to the nursery
and took her baby sister out of the cradle to play with ?
One day she took "White Nose," my smallest puppy, and carried him into
the hall. Here she sat down in grandpa's big chair, took a lump of sugar
from the bowl, and tried to make White Nose eat it! Was n't she silly ?
It made my mouth water to see her waste good sugar on a puppy that had
no teeth. I tried to show her that it was better for me to eat sugar than
to let White Nose have it. I even sat up and begged for it. White Nose
only kicked at it with his fat little legs, and was afraid the sugar would
bite him.
I hope Sally, after she reads my letter, will see that it is best to give
sugar to big dogs, and to let little puppies sleep until they have some teeth.
Your friend, FIDO.




Ii 'll.





The Card Castle.

UP in the high card castle
There sat a princess fair.
The castle was enchanted;
No toy could enter there.
The paper-dolly princess
Could see far, far away
The floor and nursery closet,
And all the toys at play;

And, sitting in the castle,
She heard their cheerful stir,
But not a toy among them
Would come to rescue her.
Now hark! she hears a sighing,
Yet nothing can she see.
Then some one softly whispers,
"I come to rescue thee."

" Who is it," asks the princess,
Has dared to hither come ?"
"I am the wind," it answers.
I '11 bear thee to my home."
Now-puff!-out through the window
He and the princess fly,
While on the nursery carpet
The cards all scattered lie.

TheNewToy and the Clock.

THE busy, happy little clock
Hangs just above the shelf;
The toys can hear it every day
Still singing to itself.

One time a china figure came;
She had been bought that day; '
Too lonely and too strange to rest
She longed to run away.

The other toys were fast asleep,
'T was dark as it could be,
But all the while the nursery clock
Kept singing cheerfully.

It cheered the lonesome little toy,
And so she slept ere long,
And in the morning, when she woke,
She still could hear that song.

" I 'd rather be that cheerful clock,"
The china figure thought,
" Than be the very finest toy
That ever money bought! "

The Music Box.

HE music-box is not at all
Like any other toys;
There are no games that it can play
With little girls and boys.

Sometimes upon the bureau
It stays for days and days,
But, oh! when once it has been wound,
Such pretty tunes it plays.

And sometimes, when the little gir)
Is snugly tucked in bed,
Between the sheet and bolster,
It lies beneath her head.

Like far-off fairy music,
It tinkles faint and clear;

It plays until she 's fast asleep,
And can no longer hear.

It 's only meant for quiet times,
Or when the hour grows late;
And yet it 's such a gentle toy,
It 's quite content to wait.

TheNewToy and the Clock.

THE busy, happy little clock
Hangs just above the shelf;
The toys can hear it every day
Still singing to itself.

One time a china figure came;
She had been bought that day; '
Too lonely and too strange to rest
She longed to run away.

The other toys were fast asleep,
'T was dark as it could be,
But all the while the nursery clock
Kept singing cheerfully.

It cheered the lonesome little toy,
And so she slept ere long,
And in the morning, when she woke,
She still could hear that song.

" I 'd rather be that cheerful clock,"
The china figure thought,
" Than be the very finest toy
That ever money bought! "

The Music Box.

HE music-box is not at all
Like any other toys;
There are no games that it can play
With little girls and boys.

Sometimes upon the bureau
It stays for days and days,
But, oh! when once it has been wound,
Such pretty tunes it plays.

And sometimes, when the little gir)
Is snugly tucked in bed,
Between the sheet and bolster,
It lies beneath her head.

Like far-off fairy music,
It tinkles faint and clear;

It plays until she 's fast asleep,
And can no longer hear.

It 's only meant for quiet times,
Or when the hour grows late;
And yet it 's such a gentle toy,
It 's quite content to wait.


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT requests us to say that he is now
enjoying a brief vacation rest. He will address his con-
gregation as usual, next month, and he hopes for a large
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We live beside the river Mer-
sey; we can see the many Atlantic steamers that pass.
The stories I like best are The Fortunes of Toby Traf-
ford" and "The Land of Pluck." We have got a spaniel
dog called Bruce." We live just opposite the Liverpool
docks. Sometimes we go to see the large steamers.
Yours, etc. NEIL CAMPBELL S--

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little boy ten years old.
In the winter we live in Portland, and in the summer at
Cape Elizabeth. The Cape is a very nice place, with its
green fields and meadows, its trees, ponds, and brooks.
There are trees in our grounds that are centuries old.
Once papa made me a boat, and I took it down to the
brook and got in it. I was sailing around as nice as
could be, when over I went and got wet through! We
have a camera and we take lots of pictures, mama and
I. I have n't any children to play with in summer, but I
have a bicycle, and we have a horse named Don and a
dog named "Rover." The other day papa and I went fish-
ing. The fish were so plenty that as fast as we could
bait our hooks we would pull up a fish, and got a big bas-
ket full in an hour. I have taken your magazine ever
since I was fouryears old, and think it is the best maga-
zine I ever read. Yours very truly,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in the capital of a State
which is known but little in the East, but is, neverthe-
less, one of the greatest States in the Union, viz.: Oregon.
Salem has a population of about 15,ooo, and is beauti-
fully situated on the Willamette River.
It has an excellent public-school system, besides a uni-
It contains many of the State institutions, and is a place
of great attraction to Eastern people, and many emigrants
settle here.
Vive la ST. NICHOLAS "
Your admiring reader, Guy C. M- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little Peruvian girl, and
all is new to me in this country. I am seven years old.
I came from Lima, Peru. Lima is a beautiful city, but
small in comparison to New York. When I came, in
April, I did not know how to speak a word of English.
Our trip lasted seventeen days. I have been in New
York for a good while. Now I am in Bay City with my
Aunt Kate and Uncle Dan. My sister Anna R. B. wrote
two years ago to you.
Your little friend, SOPHY CARROLL B-- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have taken you six years,
and in all that time I have seen only one letter from

I am an American boy, but we have lived here over
six years, and so I am tolerably Kussianized by this time.
As I think the American summer is much better than
the Russian one, I will not write anything about it; but
I am sure some of your many readers would like to hear
something about the winter here.
Before the real winter we have what is called the lit-
tle winter," a few days of snow and frost. The real win-
ter lasts usually about seven months, during which time
we have snowfalls about every four days, and sharp frosts.
We can very rarely make snowballs, for the snow is frozen
so hard as to become like dry powder.
We have a great deal of skating and tobogganing here
in winter. Our hills are made like tobogganing hills,
only they are paved with ice, and the sleds are iron, with
cushions. The sledges are very low, with curved-up
fronts, behind which the driver is seated, thus protected
from the flying snow. Sometimes private sledges have
nets in front. The passengers sit back of the driver, all
muffled up in furs, for it is not at all uncommon to have
the thermometer registeeger 5 degrees above zero.
I remain your constant reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl six years old.
Mama buys you for us every month, and my brother, who
is five, and I love you very, very much. We think the
American books are much nicer than the English ones.
Mama read us a letter from a little American girl, and I
think little American girls and boys must be clvery clever.
My big sister is helping me; she rules the lines. This is
the first long letter I have written, but I had to write to
say how I love you. Your little friend,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Last week mama gave me a
surprise in bringing me home the first and second parts
of ST. NICHOLAS for I891.
I have read many nice and interesting books before,
but I have to confess that the ST. NICHOLAS takes the
prize of them all. Two of the best stories I have read
in it are "Toby Trafford" and Lady Jane." I am very
anxious to get the next number of ST. NICHOLAS.
Very truly yours, W. S-.

DEAR ST. NICHOIAS: I belong to a gymnasium and
my cousin fell and broke her arm once, we have lots of
fun playing ball down there.
I go to Lake Geneva every summer. We have lots of
fun going on picnics in the woods. And also bathing in
the lake and rowing. My brother and I have a buycicle;
we have fun in riding it.
We have three horses and two colts; the horses are
"Tom," "Nellie," and LCaptain Jinks." The latter is a
race-horse. Mora is the older colt's name; it is one of
the best colts in Ohio. The other colt is not named yet.
"Nellie" is the name of its mother. Nellie is very gentle;
we ride her horseback and drive her all around town.
Well, good-by. Your friend, LOUISE M. B--


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Here is a letter from one of
your grown-up children, for I have several bound volumes
of ST. NICHOLAS, subscribed for for me as a child, and
still often used both by myself and by my children two
boys, one nine and the other twelve years of age.
After marriage I renewed my subscription because I
missed you. When the babies came, first they enjoyed
the pictures, then I read what they could understand and
had the numbers bound. The source of endless enjoy-
ment the magazines have been since the boys could read
for themselves I cannot express.
May you live always !
I will tell you of a clever trick I saw"this summer; it
may be interesting to your little readers. B-- .

A LITTLE robin was being taught to fly by its parents;
attempting too great a distance, it fell to the ground in the
middle of the street on which I live. My little boy caught
it; I told him to bring it to me. Taking it up-stairs, I put
it out on the roof of the front porch. Now," said I,
"we will see if they will give another 'flying lesson! '"
What do you think happened? After the old birds
fluttered about awhile, they went off and I really feared
had forgotten the young one. But not so. Here come
three robins; they go direct to the roof. Two of them
hold a piece of twine by the ends; the nestling grasps
the center and off they go, but as they start we see why
the third bird came, for it flies directly under the young
bird, supporting it on its back.
Don't you think they were smart birds ?

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I went to Quebec last summer,
and while I was there I went to St. Anne's. It is twenty
miles from Quebec. People who have been sick for
years go there and are said to come out well and strong.
Our landlady told mama that a friend of hers from the
United States came to Quebec and went to St. Anne's;
she was so sick she had to be carried there; when she
came home she walked and was well. In front of the
church are two pillars reaching to the top of the church,
and these are filled with crutches from big ones to babies'
crutches. In going there I saw the falls of Montmorenci,
which are higher than Niagara. In Quebec we went to
the House of Parliament and heard the people talking
French. It seems so strange that in a country that has
been under English rule for one hundred and thirty years
that almost all the people speak French. Even the little
children speak it too. Good-by. Your loving little reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl living at the
United States Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland.
My father is a naval officer on duty here. We live in
the grounds, and our house commands a fine view of the
harbor and of Chesapeake Bay beyond.
We girls have fine times playing, and our favorite
game is Hare and Hounds.
Every boy and girl should know this game, for it is
I enjoy the foot-ball Wednesday and Saturday after-
noons, when the cadets play against some out-of-town
Dear ST. NICHOLAS, I do enjoy you so much, and so
do my two little sisters. I have read everything in your
magazine for the last year. I like all your stories, but

TER-BOX. 317

"Lady Jane," "The Fortunes of Toby Trafford," and
"Chan Ok are my favorites.
I have not said anything about Annapolis, which is an
old historic place, you know, but my letter is already
long enough. Your devoted reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I hope you will publish this
letter about the Tower of London, which I think was
the most interesting thing I saw when I was abroad this
summer. I saw the room where the crown jewels are
kept; also the Armory, St. John's and St. Peter's chapels,
Beauchamp tower, and the dungeons, through which we
were taken by a very fat old beef-eater, who, after he had
taken us through many dark and narrow passages, calmly
remarked that the people imprisoned there did not have
a very pleasant time." Your devoted reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am the youngest of three
children who have taken you for three years. I read
you, and like you very much.
About three years ago I went to Colorado; I had a
very nice time there, too. I climbed the mountains, and
once mama and I were taking a nap in our room, and
mama woke up and went down-stairs, and they all went
to climb the mountains, and left only grandpa and me there
alone. When I woke up I asked grandpa where the
folks were; he said they were out climbing the mountains.
I told him I was going too, and when I got half-way up
I saw them 'way above me, so I tried to climb up the
side of the mountain, but I could n't do it, so I com-
menced to cry, and the folks thought it was some little
boy or girl lost on the mountain back of them. At last
they looked down and saw me there. They sent the boys
home with me. Yours truly, LAUIA S--.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have never written to you
before. I live near to London. My little brother and I
like the "Brownies and Little Lord Fauntleroy best
of all your stories.
I am eleven years old, and I am the editress of a maga-
zine called The Gosling. All my cousins and friends
write for it. I am yours truly, AGNES E. B-

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : We are twin sisters, aged fif-
teen, and last winter was spent in travels in Europe.
We visited the most interesting points in London, among
which were the Tower, National Gallery, Trafalgar
Square, British Museum, Houses of Parliament, and St.
Paul's Cathedral. While in London we both received
presents of small gold lockets with London engraved
upon them, also our names underneath, for mementos,
as we were to gather such from every place of interest.
In Paris we made the ascent of the Eiffel Tower, early
one morning.
We then journeyed to Switzerland, and high up among
the Alps, at a queer little hut, we made our abode for
the night. The next morning we started, on our don-
keys, the guide leading us along the easiest places down
the rocky path. The queer things in Berne amused us
very much, and to remember that place we collected
small pictures of the wayside taverns and parks.
Italy we enjoyed most of all. In Venice we spent most
of the time in rowing and noticing the natural way in
which the children took to the water. For a remem-


brance from Venice we got small miniatures of the gon-
dolas, cut in coral. In Rome, the guide took us through
many ruins of noted castles. The huge stones lay in
crumbled masses, and we were allowed to pick up some,
upon which we had our names and the date chiseled.
On our way back we spent a week in Berlin, visiting
the most important places. Wishing you prosperity, we

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My brother took Our Young
Folks until you were first issued, and I have taken you
ever since.
I attend the Milwaukee College, and enjoy it very much.
I live up at the bank of Lake Michigan, in a red house.
I can see the lake all day. I enjoy most watching the
sun rise out of the lake.
We have a large, black horse, and he takes us for the
most beautiful rides. I so wish you, dear ST. NICHOLAS,
might be with us.
My uncle, who was the minister to Japan some years
ago, brought us many quaint and beautiful things, one
of which is a black table with gold lacquer work on it.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Two years ago my mother,
brother, and myself were in Europe and went to the
Paris Exposition, which was very beautiful.
My uncle, who was then in Paris, took me to see the
tomb of Napoleon Bonaparte, and many other beautiful
Summer before last I was in Washington; I saw the
Capitol, White House, the Treasury, and Navy Depart-
ment, the Declaration of Independence, and the Sword
of George Washington. I went up to the top of Wash-
ington Monument, from which there was a lovely view.
Your loving reader, LAURA Y. G- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl of eleven years,
and go to school at the Milwaukee College.
I have two turtles, each the size of a fifty-cent piece,
and they are very cunning. I have had them all sum-

mer, and they are quite tame. They eat flies and bugs
mostly. I keep them in a long tin bath-tub, with sand
at the bottom and leaves at one end for them to sleep in.
They are very pretty and intelligent. Whenever I feed
them, they stick their heads out of the water and open
their mouths. Your constant reader, E. B--

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have taken you for one year.
I like you very much.
I am eight years old. I have been to Washington,
Baltimore, Maryland, all over the battle-field of Gettys-
burg and the cemetery in which the soldiers are buried.
I like "Chan Ok: A Romance of the Eastern Seas,"
"Toby Trafford," and the "Tee-Wahn Folk-Stories."
Your loving friend, ROGER RAE R-

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are twin brothers, Freddie
and Percy, and live on an orange-ranch, in California,
near the home of Ramona." We each have a bronco
pony and a rifle, and ride many miles each day in search
of coyotes. The Government gives us five dollars for
each wolf's scalp. We each have six greyhounds, and
are very successful in hunting rabbits. We will now
give you a piece of poetry we composed, and if our let-
ter is too long, please publish our poetry:

Freddie and Percy are two gay Spanish boys,
Who are exceedingly fond of tomales;
They have guns and toys and their sorrows and joys,
And their father's name is Gonzales.


WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: Marjorie H.,
"Pinkie," Leonie W. W., Anna St. J., Judith S. R.,
Marie V. P., W. H. H., Elsy, Clara J., Julia S. J.,
Katharine T. W., Irma K., M. H., Jean H. V., Rebecca
W. B., Katharine E. F., Ida S., Edwin W. J.



WORD SYNCOPATIONS. Twelfth Night. I. Be-ate-n. 2. Br-own-ed. ILLUSTRATED DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Stephen; finals, De-
3. Al-leg-e. 4. St-all-age. 5. S-oft-ly. 6. Sho-ute-d. 7. Pari-she-s. catur. Crosswords: i. Squid. 2. Thistle. 3. Epic. 4. Pagoda.
8. S-end-ing. 9. S-pin-et. xo. Man-age-s. ii. See-the-d. 12. Cur- 5. Helmet 6. Emu. 7. Number.
ate-s. PI. A flower unblown; a book unread;
DOUBLE SQUARES. Jalap. Agape. 3. Lares. 4. Apeak. A tree with fruit unharvested;
5. Pesky. II. i. Draft. 2. Rider. 3. Adieu. 4. Feels. 5. Trust. A path untrod; a house whose rooms
Lack yet the heart's divine perfumes;
DOUBLE AcROSTIC. Primals, gonfalon; finals, gonfanon. Cross- A landscape whose wide border lies
words: I. Gang. 2. Ohio. 3. Noon. 4. Fief. 5. Anna. 6. Loon. In silent shade'neath silent skies;
7. Olio. 8. Nain. A wondrous fountain yet unsealed;
A GREEK CROSS. I. I. Urban. 2. Rhino. 3. Bison. 4. Anode. A casket with its gifts concealed: -
5. Nones. II. Redan. 2. Erato. 3. Damon. 4. Atone. 5. This is the year that for you waits
Nones. III. i. Nones. 2. Ovolo. 3. Novel. 4. Eleve. 5. Soles. Beyond to-morrow's mystic gates.
IV. Soles. 2. Ovate.- 3. Lathe. 4. Ether. 5. Seers. V. i. HORATIO NELSON POWERS.
Soles. 2. Opera.. 3. Lemon. 4. Erode. 5. Saner. NOVEL WORD-SQUARE. Anna, noon, noun, Anna.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the x5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS "Riddle-bbx," care of THE CENTURY Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER were received, before November x5th, from Paul Reese- Maude E.
Palmer-L. O. E.-" The McG.s"-Ida Carleton Thallon-A. H. R. and M. G. R.-" The Peterkins"-" Wee 'Y--Hubert L.
Bingay -Alice Mildred Blanke and sister Gertrude Laverack-" The Wise Five"-" Uncle Mung "-" Dad and Bill "-" Leather-
stocking "- E. Kllogg Trowbridge Jo and I The Spencers "- Helen C. McCleary M. L. M. and C. E. M.-Josephine Sherwood
-" Queen Anso IV."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER were received, before November 15th, from Henry Martin Rochester, I Helen
H. Patten, 2--Jennie D., i--Mabel Ganson, i- Minnie Walton, i--Mabel Ames Wheeler, I -Alice V. Farquhar, 2--Mary Lee
Warren, i-Elizabeth A. Adams, ix-E. M. B., x -Elaine S., 2--Lizzie W. Valk, i- Grace Shirley, I--Van, i--Olive Gale, x
Mama and Clara, i Pauline Miller, i F. L. Andrews and H. G. Clarke, x Effie K. Talboys, 4 Margaret Otis, i Beth, i -
Arthur Williams, Carrie G. M., I-" Oregon," 5 Stephen O. Hawkins, lo--Isa Stearns, I- M. S. Garver. G. A. H. and C.
L. C., 2- Jessie M. King, i -" One of te A. S.," I- A. R. M. and A. J., I Russell Mount, 2- Anna St. John, 2- Bessie Rhoads,
3 Margie Bradrick, i -Louise and Peg, i -" May and'79," 2 Nellie Archer, 3 -" Chiddingstone," to Jessie Chapman, 8 Ella J.
Mendsen, i-Harry and Mama, 8 "Ed. and Papa,"--" We Uns," 5-Clara and Emma, 4--Edith and Queen Frederick, 2- Ida
and Alice, o- Mama and Charlie, 2--Mama and Marion, 4--Agnes C. Leaycraft, I Franz L., 5-E. M. G., o--" Only I," I
-Gwen and Brian, o--E. K., -" Santa Claus and A.," i-Blanche and Fred, io -" Puss," I -" Theos.," 3-Auntie and Ed, i -
Alice M'Lennan, Alice Goddard Waldo, i.


ACROSS: I. A measure of weight. 2. A kind of
type. 3. To exercise for discipline. 4. A short treatise.
5. Keenly desirous.
DOWNWARD: I. In rhomboid. 2. Aloft. 3. Clear
of all charges and deductions. 4. Management. 5. To
efface. 6. A feminine name. 7. A small horse. 8. A
pronoun. 9. In rhomboid. M. A. S.


B B (

' *
S 5, *

2. To carve. 3. To make a short, sharp sound. 4. In-
struction. 5. Attempted. 6. A capsule of a plant. 7. In
2. To unite with needle and thread. 3. Place. 4. Neces-

sary. 5. A thin cake. 6. One half of the fruit of the
durio. 7. In slant.
III. CENTRAL DIAMOND: I. In slant. 2. A slight
moisture. 3. An ancient Celtic priest. 4. Not decided
or pronounced. 5. Telegraphed. 6. A disrespectful
name for a parent. 7. In slant.
2. In what manner. 3. Damp. 4. Existing in name
only. 5. Tempestuous. 6. A period of time. 7. In
2. A gentle blow with the hand. 3. Fixes the time of.
4. Pertaining to the side. 5. A small fruit. 6. To
speak. 7. In slant. M. A. S.


ALL the words described contain the same number of
letters. When rightly guessed, and placed one below
another, the diagonals, beginning at the upper left-hand
letter and ending at the lower right-hand letter, will spell
a name often given to Horatio Nelson.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A row or rank. 2. A buzzing
sound. 3. To assist. 4. A masculine name. 5. Equa-
ble. 6. The fleur-de-lis. 7. A musical instrument. 8.
To cheat. 9. Tolift. o1. To stop. II. A reverbera-
ton. 12. A plant beloved by Welshmen. 13. A pro-
tuberance. 14. To scoff. 15. To baffle. 16. A cupola.



- a -

. t
*f -h



I. I. IDIOCY. 2. Beginning. 3. Tomature. 4. A
kind of molding. 5. Wickedness. 6. Within. 7. In
II. I. The shell of a nut. 2. Coalesced. 3. The
protagonist in a play by Shakspere. 4. A minute
particle. 5. "Children of a larger growth." 6. A
masculine nickname. 7. In sprain.


ALL of the ten small pictures may be described by
words of equal length. When these are rightly guessed,
the central letters, reading downward, will spell the name
of certain things which often come in February.
C. B.
CROSS-WORDS: I. To drain off completely. 2. Per-
taining to an organ. 3. The place where King Arthur
is supposed to have held his court. 4. Relating to the
base. 5. Pertaining to a canon or rule. 6. A large
artery in the neck. 7. A beautiful, wax-like flower.
When rightly guessed and placed one below another,
the diagonals, beginning at the upper left-hand corner,
will spell the name of the heroine of an epic poem by
Tasso. D.

EXAMPLE: Separate conferred, and make the first
quality and indebted. Answer, best-owed.
I. Separate the trachea, and make to twist and a boat-
swain's whistle used to call the crew to their duties. 2.
Separate a large fleet of armed ships, and make a branch
and a feminine name. 3. Separate the aspect of two
planets sixty degrees apart, and make gender and a name
sometimes given to a man's stiff hat. 4. Separate great

dislike, and make a cover for the head and a color. 5.
Separate ignorant of letters or books, and make sick
and to do a second time. 6. Separate the name of a
distinguished philosopher, and make a small lizard and
forward. 7. Separate a voracious eater, and make to
cloy and a measure of weight or quantity. 8. Separate
the stopper of a cannon, and make to drive in by frequent
gentle strokes and the title of a tragedy by Thomas Noon
Talfourd. 9. Separate to subvert, and make above and
to place. o1. Separate a native of Normandy, and make
a conjunction and a human being.
When the above words are rightly guessed and placed
one below the other, the initials of the first row of words
will spell the name of a famous man born in 1732; the
initials of the second row spell a quality for which he
was distinguished. CYRIL DEANE.


I. A RELIGIOUS book of the old Scandinavian tribes.
2. A piece of mournful music. 3. Exhausts. 4 To
disturb. 5. A substance of the nature of glass. 6. A
variety of iron. 7. Certain measures of length.

I. I. A PERCH. 2. Uncovered. 3. To grant to an-
other for temporary use. 4. Closes.
II. I. A stain. 2. To regard with affection. 3. A
place for heating or drying. 4. A portable house of
canvas. M. K.

MY primals spell the name of a celebrated conqueror;
my finals, the surname of the author of a very popular book.
The primals and finals together spell the name of a hero.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): I. A tree. 2. A
South American lizard. 3. The sweet-bay. 4. A legu-
minous plant. 5. Yttrium. 6. Pertaining to the maple.
7. A plant sacred to Venus. "XELIS."

# % *

I. I. To ENVIRON. 2. To suppress. 3. Fascinating.
4. Delightful regions. 5. Rigid.
INCLUDED WORD-SQUARE: I. Part of the eye. 2.
Wrath. 3. A retreat.
II. I. A variety of fine clay containing iron. 2.
Unspotted. 3. Courage. 4. Less common. 5. A
INCLUDED WORD-SQUARE: I. A meadow. 2. Part
of the head. 3. A verb.
III. I. A nautical term meaning "cease." 2. Small
hairs on plants. 3. A foreigner. 4. A fall of hail and
snow. 5. Hues.
INCLUDED WORD-SQUARE: I. Evil. 2. To remain.
3. Sediment. "CHARLES BEAFUORT."




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