• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 "Midshipman" the cat
 Something about snakes
 Tom Paulding
 A year with dolly
 A quiet beach
 Two girls and a boy
 To a little trout
 How ships talk to each other
 "What news?" in mid-ocean
 A fishing trip to Barnegat
 Overshadowed
 When I was your age
 The jolliver's donkey
 The early owl
 Strange corners of our country
 The robber rat and the poor little...
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter box
 The riddle box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00258
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00258
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 Matter
        Front Matter
    Frontispiece
        Page 722
    "Midshipman" the cat
        Page 723
        Page 724
        Page 725
        Page 726
        Page 727
        Page 728
        Page 729
    Something about snakes
        Page 730
        Page 731
        Page 732
        Page 733
        Page 734
        Page 735
        Page 736
    Tom Paulding
        Page 737
        Page 738
        Page 739
        Page 740
        Page 741
        Page 742
        Page 743
        Page 744
    A year with dolly
        Page 745
    A quiet beach
        Page 746
        Page 747
        Page 748
        Page 749
        Page 750
    Two girls and a boy
        Page 751
        Page 752
        Page 753
        Page 754
        Page 755
        Page 756
        Page 757
        Page 758
    To a little trout
        Page 759
    How ships talk to each other
        Page 760
        Page 761
        Page 762
        Page 763
        Page 764
        Page 765
    "What news?" in mid-ocean
        Page 766
        Page 767
    A fishing trip to Barnegat
        Page 768
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
        Page 773
        Page 774
        Page 775
        Page 776
    Overshadowed
        Page 777
    When I was your age
        Page 778
        Page 779
        Page 780
    The jolliver's donkey
        Page 781
        Page 782
        Page 783
        Page 784
        Page 785
    The early owl
        Page 786
        Page 787
    Strange corners of our country
        Page 788
        Page 789
        Page 790
        Page 791
        Page 792
    The robber rat and the poor little kitten
        Page 793
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 794
        Page 795
    The letter box
        Page 796
        Page 797
        Page 798
    The riddle box
        Page 799
        Page 800
    Back Matter
        Page 802
    Back Cover
        Page 803
        Page 804
    Spine
        Page 805
Full Text




























,iz'p.JI


1'*'a7p i


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THE OLD LIGHTHOUSE-KEEPER AND THE CHILDREN.
"HE WOULD SPIN THEM YARNS WHILE THEIR EYES GREW BIG AS HIS STORIES EXPANDED." (SEE PAGE 745.)


k3
















NICHOLAS.


AUGUST, 1892.


"MIDSHIPMAN," THE CAT.

By JOHN COLEMAN ADAMS.


THIS is a true story about a real cat who,
for aught I know, is still alive and following
the sea for a living. I hope to be excused if
I use the pronouns "who" and "he" instead
of "which" and "it," in speaking of this par-
ticular cat; because although I know very
well that the grammars all tell us that "he"
and "who" apply to persons, while "it" and
"which" apply to things, yet this cat of mine
always seemed to us who knew him to be so
much like a human being, that I find it unsat-
isfactory to speak of him in any other way.
There are some animals of whom you prefer to
say "he," just as there are persons whom you
sometimes feel like calling "it."
The way we met this cat was after this fash-
ion : It was back somewhere in the seventies,
and a party of us were cruising east from Bos-
ton in the little schooner-yacht Eyvor." We
had dropped into Marblehead for a day and a
night, and some of the boys had gone ashore
in the tender. As they landed on the wharf,
they found a group of small boys running sticks
into a woodpile, evidently on a hunt for some-
thing inside.
"What have you in there?" asked one of
the yachtsman.
Nothin' but a cat," said the boys.


"Well, what are you doing to him?"
Oh, pokin' him up! When he comes out
we '11 rock him," was the answer, in good
Marblehead dialect.
"Well, don't do it any more. What 's the
use of tormenting a poor cat ? Why don't you
take somebody of your size ?"
The boys slowly moved off, a little ashamed
and a little afraid of the big yachtsman who
spoke; and when they were well out of sight the
yachtsmen went on, too, and thought no more
about the cat they had befriended. But when
they had wandered about the tangled streets of
the town for a little while, and paid the visits
which all good yachtsmen pay, to the grocery
and the post-office and the apothecary's soda-
fountain, they returned to the wharf and found
their boat. And behold, there in the stern-
sheets sat the little gray-and-white cat of the
woodpile! He had crawled out of his retreat
and made straight for the boat of his champions.
He seemed in no wise disturbed or disposed to
move when they jumped on board, nor did he
show anything but pleasure when they stroked
and patted him. But when one of the boys
started to put him ashore, the plucky little fel-
low showed his claws; and no sooner was he
set on his feet at the edge of the wharf than he


Copyright, x892, by THE CENTURY CO. All rights reserved.


ST.


VOL. XIX.


No. 10.






" MIDSHIPMAN," THE CAT.


turned about and jumped straight back into the
boat.
He wants to go yachting," said one of the
party, whom we called "The Bos'n."
Ye might as wal take the cat," said a grizzly
old fisherman standing on the wharf; "he
does n't belong to anybody, and ef he stays
here the boys '11 worry him t' death."
Let's take him aboard," said the yachtsmen.
"It's good luck to have a cat on board ship."
Whether it was good- luck to the ship or not,
it was very clear that pussy saw it meant good
luck to him, and curled himself down in the


he was allowed to remain in the boat, and was
taken off to the yacht.
Upon his arrival there, a council was held, and
it was unanimously decided that the cat should
be received as a member of the crew; and as
we were a company of amateur sailors, sailing
our own boat, each man having his particular
duties, it was decided that the cat should be
appointed midshipman, and should be named
after his position. So he was at once and ever
after known as Middy." Everybody took a
great interest in him, and he took an impartial
interest in everybody-though there were two


"BEING A MARBLEHEAD CAT IT MADE NO DIFFERENCE TO HIM WHETHER HE LIVED AFLOAT OR ASHORE."


bottom of the boat, with a look that meant
business. Evidently he had thought the matter
all over and made up his mind that this was
the sort of people he wanted to live with; and,
being a Marblehead cat, it made no difference
to him whether they lived afloat or ashore; he
was going where they went, whether they
wanted him or not. He had heard the conver-
sation from his place in the woodpile, and had
decided to show his gratitude by going to sea
with these protectors of his. By casting in his
lot with theirs he was paying them the high-
est compliment of which a cat is capable. It
would have been the height of impoliteness not
to recognize his distinguished appreciation. So


people on board to whom he made himself par-
ticularly agreeable. One was the quiet, kindly
professor, the captain of the Eyvor; the other
was Charlie, our cook and only hired hand.
Middy, you see, had a seaman's true instinct
as to the official persons with whom it was his
interest to stand well.
It was surprising to see how quickly Middy
made himself at home. He acted as if he
had always been at sea. He was never seasick,
no matter how rough it was or how uncom-
fortable any of the rest of us were. He roamed
wherever he wanted to, all over the boat. At
meal-times he came to the table with the rest,
sat up on a valise and lapped his milk and took


[AUG.


724






1892.] MIDSHIPMA

what bits of food were given him, as if he had
eaten that way all his life. When the sails were
hoisted it was his especial joke to jump upon the
main-gaff and be hoisted with it; and once he
stayed on his perch till the sail was at the mast-
head. One of us had to go aloft and bring
him down. When we had come to anchor and
everything was snug for the night, he would
come on deck and scamper out on the main-
boom, and race from there to the bowsprit end
as fast as he could gallop, then climb, monkey-
fashion, half-way up the masts, and drop back to
the deck or dive down into the cabin and run
riot among the berths.
One day, as we were jogging along under a
pleasant southwest wind, and everybody was







F i










"AT MEAL-TIMES HE SAT UP ON A VALISE."
lounging and dozing after dinner, we heard the
Bos'n call out, "Stop that, you fellows! and a
moment after, I tell you, quit!-or I '11 come
up and make you!"
We opened our lazy eyes to see what was
the matter, and there sat the Bos'n, down in the
cabin, close to the companionway, the tassel
of his knitted cap coming nearly up to the
combings of the hatch; and on the deck out-
side sat Middy, digging his claws into the
tempting yar, and occasionally, going deep
enough to scratch the Bos'n's scalp. When
night came and we were all settled down in
bed, it was Middy's almost invariable custom
to go the rounds of all the berths, to see if
we were properly tucked in, and to end his
inspection by jumping into the captain's bed,


N," THE CAT.


H WAS HO iD W.I
H' I'
HE WAS HOISTED WITH


725


THE MAIN-GAFF."


treading himself a comfortable nest there among
the blankets, and curling himself down to sleep.
It was his own idea to select the captain's
berth as the only proper place in which to
turn in.
But the most interesting trait in Middy's
Character did not appear until he had been a
week or so on board. Then he gave us a sur-
prise. It was when we were lying in Camden
harbor. Everybody was going ashore to take a
tramp among the hills, and Charlie, the cook,
was coming too, to row the boat back to the
yacht.
Middy discovered that he was somehow
"getting left." 'Being a prompt and very de-
cided cat, it did not take him long to make
up his mind what to do. He ran to the low
rail of the yacht, put his forepaws on it, and
gave us a long, anxious look. Then as the boat
was shoved off he raised his voice in a plain-
tive mew. We waved him a good-by, chaffed
him pleasantly, and told him to mind the an-
chor, and have dinner ready when we got back.
That was too much for his temper. As quick


"HE SELECTED TIE CAPTAIN'S BERTH."






"MIDSHIPMAN," THE CAT.


as a flash he had dived overboard, and was
swimming like a water-spaniel, after the dinghy!
That was the strangest thing we had ever
seen in all our lives! We were quite used to ele-
phants that could play at see-saw, and horses
that could fire cannon, to learned pigs and to
educated dogs; but a cat that of his own ac-
cord would take to the water like a full-blooded
Newfoundland was a little beyond anything
we had ever heard of. Of course the boat was
stopped, and Middy was taken aboard drenched
and shivering, but perfectly happy to be once
more with the crew. He had been ignored
and slighted; but he had insisted on his
rights, and as soon as they were recognized
he was quite contented.
Of course, after that we were quite prepared
for anything that Middy might do. And yet he
always managed to surprise us by his bold and









Y .-












"STOP THAT, YOU FELLOWS!
independent behavior. Perhaps his most bril-
liant performance was a visit he paid a few
days after his swim in Camden harbor.
We were lying becalmed in a lull of the wind
off the entrance to Southwest Harbor. Near
us, perhaps a cable's-length away, lay another
small yacht, a schooner hailing from Lynn.
As we drifted along on the tide, we noticed
that Middy was growing very restless; and
presently we found him running along the rail


and looking eagerly toward the other yacht.
What did he see-or smell-over there which
interested him ? It could not be the dinner, for
they were not then cooking. Did he recognize


"MIDDY WAS TAKEN ABOARD."


any of his old chums from Marblehead ? Per-
haps there were some cat friends of his on the
other craft. Ah, that was it! There they were
on the deck, playing and frisking together,-
two kittens! Middy had spied them, and was
longing to take a nearer look. He ran up and
down the deck, mewing and snuffing the air.
He stood up in his favorite position when on
lookout, with his forepaws on the rail. Then,
before we realized what he was doing, he had
plunged overboard again, and was making for
the other boat as fast as he could swim! He
had attracted the attention of her company,
and no sooner did he come up alongside than
they prepared to welcome him. A fender was
lowered, and when Middy saw it he swam
toward it, caught it with his forepaws, clam-
bered along it to the gunwale, and in a twink-
ling was over the side and on the deck scraping
acquaintance with the strange kittens.
How they received him I hardly know, for by
that time our boat was alongside to claim the
runaway. And we were quite of the mind of
the skipper of the Winnie L.," who said, as he
handed our bold midshipman over the side,
"Well, that beats all my going a-fishing! "
Only a day or two later Middy was very
disobedient when we were washing decks one
morning. He trotted about in the wet till his
feet were drenched, and then retired to dry
them on the white spreads of the berths below.
That was quite too much for the captain's pa-






1892.] MIDSHIPMAN

tience. Middy was summoned aft, and, after
a sound rating, was hustled into the dinghy
which was moored astern, and shoved off to
the full length of her painter. The punish-
ment was a severe one for Middy, who could
bear anything better than exile from his be-
loved shipmates. So of course he began to ex-
ercise his ingenious little brain to see how he
could escape. Well under the overhang of the










tj -






"THEY PREPARED TO WELCOME HIM."
yacht he spied, just about four inches out of
water, a little shoulder of the rudder. That
was enough for him. He did not stop to think
whether he would be any better off there. It
was a part of the yacht, and that was home.
So overboard he went, swam for the
rudder, scrambled on to it, and began
howling piteously to be taken on deck
again; and, being a spoiled and much- /"
indulged cat, he was soon rescued from
his uncomfortable roosting-place and
restored to favor.
I suppose I shall tax your powers of
belief if I tell you many more of
Middy's doings. But truly he was a
strange cat, and you may as well be -
patient, for you will not soon hear of
his equal. The captain was much given .
to rifle-practice, and used to love to ''
go ashore and shoot at a mark. On
one of his trips he allowed Middy to
accompany him, for the simple reason,
I suppose, that Middy decided to go, and got
on board the dinghy when the captain did.
Once ashore, the marksman selected a fine


," THE CAT. 727

large rock as a rest for his rifle, and opened
fire upon his target. At the first shot. or two
Middy seemed a little surprised, but showed
no disposition to run away. After the first
few rounds, however, he seemed to have
made up his mind that since the captain
was making all that racket it must be entirely
right and proper, and nothing about which a
cat need bother his head in the least. So, as
if to show how entirely he confided in the cap-
tain's judgment and good intentions, that im-
perturbable cat calmly lay down, curled up,
and went to sleep in the shade of the rock
over which the captain's rifle was blazing and
cracking about once in two minutes. If any-
body was ever acquainted with a cooler or more
self-possessed cat I should be pleased to hear
the particulars.
I wish that this chronicle could be confined
to nothing but our shipmate's feats of daring and
nerve. But, unfortunately, he was not always
blameless in his conduct. When he got hungry
he was apt to forget his position as midshipman,
and to behave just like any cat with an empty
stomach. Or perhaps he may have done just
what any hungry midshipman would under the
circumstances; I do not quite know what a
midshipman does under all circumstances and
so I can not say. But here is one of this cat
midshipman's exploits. One afternoon, on our


"MIDDY CURLED UP AND WENT TO SLEEP.
way home, we were working along with a head
wind and sea toward Wood Island, a haven for
many of the small yachts between Portland







"MIDSHIPMAN," THE CAT.


and the Shoals. The wind was light and we
were a little late in making port. But as we
were all agreed that it would be pleasanter to
postpone our dinner till we were at anchor, the
cook was told .to keep things warm and wait till
we were inside the port before he set the table.
Now, his main dish that day was to be a fine
piece of baked fish; and, unfortunately, it was
nearly done when we gave orders to hold back
the dinner. So he had closed the drafts of his
little stove, left the door of the oven open, and
turned into his bunk for a quiet doze,-a thing
which every good sailor does on all possible
occasions; for a seafaring life is very uncertain
in the matter of sleep, and one never quite
knows when he will lose some, nor how much
he will lose. So it is well to lay in a good
stock of it whenever you can.


,- ,. ,



~- "- II- ,



A -
;40-


"MIDDY CAME FLYING UP THE COMPANIONWAY -FOLLOWED
BY A VOLLEY OF SHOES AND SPOONS AND PIECES OF COAL."

It seems that Middy was on watch, and when
he saw Charlie fast asleep he undertook to
secure a little early dinner for himself. He evi-
dently reasoned with himself that it was very
uncertain when we should have dinner and
he 'd better get his while he could. He quietly
slipped down to the stove, walked coolly up to
the oven, and began to help himself to baked
haddock.
He must have missed his aim or made some
mistake in his management of the business, and,
by some lucky chance for the rest of us, waked
the cook. For, the first we knew, Middy came
flying up the cabin companionway, followed by
a volley of shoes and spoons and pieces of coal,
while we could hear Charlie, who was rather
given to unseemly language when he was ex-


cited, using the strongest words in his diction-
ary about "that thief of a cat!"
"What 's the matter?" we all shouted at
once.
Matter enough, sir!" growled Charlie.
"That little cat 's eaten up half the fish! It 's
a chance if you get any dinner to-night, sir."
You may be very sure that Middy got a
sound wigging for that trick, but I am afraid
the captain forgot to deprive him of his rations
as he threatened. He was much too kind-
hearted.
The very next evening Middy startled us
again by a most remarkable display of cool-
ness and courage. After a weary thrash to
windwaid all day, under a provokingly light
'breeze, we found ourselves under the lee of the
little promontory at Cape Neddick, where we
cast anchor for the night. Our supply of water
had run very low, and so, just after sunset, two
of the party rowed ashore in the tender to
replenish our water-keg, and by special permis-
sion Middy went with them.
It took some time to find a well, and by the
time the jugs were filled it had grown quite
dark. In launching the boat for the return to
the yacht, by some ill-luck a breaker caught
her and threw her back upon the beach. There
she capsized and spilled out the boys, together
with their precious cargo. In the confusion of
the moment, and the hurry of setting matters
to rights, Middy was entirely forgotten, and
when the boat again was launched, nobody
thought to look for the cat. This time every-
thing went well, and in a few minutes the yacht
was sighted through the dusk. Then some-
body happened to think of Middy! He was
nowhere to be seen. Neither man remembered
anything about him after the capsize. There
was consternation in the hearts of those un-
lucky wights. To lose Middy was almost like
losing one of the crew.
But it was too late and too dark to go back
and risk another landing on the beach. There
was nothing to be done but to leave poor
Middy to his fate, or at least to wait until
morning before searching for him.
But just as the prow of the boat bumped
against the fender on the" yacht's quarter, out
from under the stern-sheets came a wet, bedrag-






"MIDSHIPMAN," THE CAT.


gled, shivering cat, who leaped on board the
yacht and hurried below into the warm cabin.
In that moist adventure in the surf, Middy had
taken care of himself, rescued himself from a
watery grave, got on board the boat as soon as
she was ready, and sheltered himself in the
warmest corner. All this he had done without
the least outcry, and without asking any help
whatever. His self-reliance and courage were
extraordinary.
Well, the pleasant month of cruising drew to
a close, and it became a question what should
be done with Middy. We could not think of
turning him adrift in the cold world, although
we had no fears but that so bright and plucky
a cat would make a living anywhere. But we
wanted to watch over his fortunes, and perhaps
take him on the next cruise with us when he
should have become a more settled and digni-
fied Thomas. Finally, it was decided that he
should be boarded for the winter with an ar-
tist, Miss Susan H- a friend of one of our
party. She wanted a studio-cat, and would
be particularly pleased to receive so accom-
plished and traveled a character as Middy. So
when the yacht was moored to the little wharf
at Annisquam, where she always ended her
cruises, and we were packed and ready for our
journey to Boston, Middy was tucked into a
basket and taken to the train. He bore the
confinement with the same good sense which
had marked all his life with us, though I think
his feelings were hurt at the lack of confidence


we showed in him. And, in truth, we were a
little ashamed of it ourselves, and when once
we were on the cars somebody suggested that
he be released from his prison just to see how
he would behave. We might have known he
would do himself credit. For when he had
looked over his surroundings, peeped above the
back of the seat at the passengers, taken a good
look at the conductor, and counted the rest of
the party to see that none of us was missing,
Middy snuggled down upon the seat, laid his
head upon the captain's knee and slept all the
way to Boston.
That was the last time I ever saw Middy.
He was taken to his new boarding-place in
Boylston street, where he lived very pleasantly
for a few months, and made many friends by his
pleasing manners and unruffled temper. But I
suppose he found it a little dull in Boston. He
was not quite at home in his esthetic surround-
ings. I have always believed he sighed for the
freedom of a sailor's life. He loved to sit by
the open window when the wind was east, and
seemed to be dreaming of far-away scenes. One
day he disappeared. No trace of him was ever
found. A great many things may have hap-
pened to him. But I never could get rid of the
feeling that he went down to the wharves and
the ships and thd sailors, trying to find his old
friends, looking everywhere for the stanch little
Eyvor; and, not finding her, I am convinced
that he shipped on some East Indiaman and is
now a sailor cat on the high seas.


"A SAILOR CAT ON THE HIGH SEAS.












SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


By MARGARET W. LEIGHTON.


SKELETON OF AN INDIAN PYTHON. (PHOTOGRAPHED BY PERMISSION FROM THE ORIGINAL
IN THE NATIONAL MUSEUM, WASHINGTON, D. C.)


HAVE you ever thought what hidden beau-
ties there are in the beings most shunned by
man? Professor Huxley says, "The vertebra
of a snake is the most beautiful piece of anat-
omy I ever saw." The movement of a snake,
in the water or on land, is very wonderful and
a mysterious sight to the unfortunate man whose
limited acquaintance with nature has not en-
abled him to solve the riddle. He says, "Here
is a creature with neither legs, nor wings, nor
fins, and yet it moves with even more swift-
ness and grace than most animals which pos-
sess these means of getting about." How is it
that this can be ? We will look for a moment
at the skeleton. We see that it consists merely
of the skull, the backbone, and the ribs. The
vertebrae are joined by exquisite ball-and-
socket joints, and two ribs are attached to each
vertebra, one on each side. Probably you have
noticed that the under side of a snake's body
is covered with crosswise plates, which scienti-
fic men call scuta. Now, instead of having
the ribs attached to a breastbone, like the mam-
mals and lizards, the snake has them attached
to the scuta, so that, as Miss Hopley says in
her valuable book on Ophidians, the snake,
instead of having no legs, really has two for
each foot.


There are fifteen species found in Massachu-
setts. Two of them, the banded rattlesnake
and the copperhead, are venomous; but I think
that, at least in the eastern portion, the copper-
head has become extinct. Rattlesnakes are
found in the Blue Hills, which is probably as
near Boston as one will be likely to see them.
The common black-snake, Bascanion constrictor,
whose species name, constrictor, comes from its
mode of killing its prey, constricting or bind-
ing them,-in other words, hugging them to
death,-is our largest snake, often reaching a
length of six feet and over. Near my home I
found a perfect skin of this snake, five feet and
two inches long. The black-snake often lives
in stone walls, and is fond of climbing into a
tree overhanging the water. Here it wraps a
few folds about the branches, and watches its






A SNAKE'S LEC.
(s.e. \^c S-?)
chance to snap up any nice little frog which
hops by, a bird, if one alights near enough, or
perhaps a field-mouse scampering along. This






SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


snake has a great deal of curiosity, and is said
to follow men and beasts long distances; but
it retreats instantly if turned upon. It is harm-
less, and should you by chance disturb or tread
upon it, the worst it would do would probably
be to wrap a few folds about your legs, or
stick out its tongue, or possibly give you a
slight bite.
One of the handsomest of our snakes is tli.:
checkered adder, chicken-snake, or thunder
and-lightning snake, as it is variously style.
The title of chicken-snake comes from its al-
leged fondness for sucking eggs.
The accusation may or may not
be true; but I found one in a half
torpid condition, one early spring
day, in a hen-house.
You may have seen the striped or
garter-snakes of which two species
inhabit Massachusetts, the smaller
being called the swift garter-snake.
The larger one is at home alike
on land and water. I have often
seen them catching grasshoppers; ;
and here I must stop a moment
to tell you of the strange way this
snake has of eating. When he
catches a grasshopper or little
frog, he opens his jaws so wide
that they are actually out of joint.
Having taken his food into his
mouth, he readjusts the jaws,
holds the animal for some time, '
so that it may become thoroughly
moistened, and then, with a mighty r ''
gulp, swallows it. The handsom-
est snake in my collection is a
garter-snake brought to me, by a
friend, from Canada, where they
grow larger and finer than in New
England.
Next in size to the racer, or
black-snake, comes the red-bellied
water-snake. He is a rough-looking fellow,
owing to each of his scales having a little keel
or ridge in the middle.
One warm still day in April I was walking
along the shores of a small pond, hoping
I should see some signs of the snakes wak-
ing from their long winter's nap. Suddenly I


stopped. Could those enormous gray-black
coils about the roots of that little oak-tree be
the body of a snake? I touched them with
the handle of my long net; instantly the crea-
ture thrust forth a wicked-looking head. How
wicked were those fixed, glittering eyes! I stood
spellbound, experiencing at once the over-power-
ing fear. mis- a, /- taken for fascination,
i%,i,- :l2ke are i, to ,: itI- it
.ill o lL r i. ir cr :itur:. H ere
S,-, a ,ik-, it l 'cith t l
]":* -':* li t.d --. I .-iJ '. :' n -


THE BLACK-SNAKE.


strict, and yet I felt that he had the power to
kill me instantly, should he choose to do so.
I have since come to the conclusion that this
reptile was the grandfather of the tribe of red-
bellied water-snakes which inhabit that pond.
They are very numerous hereabouts, and the
young and half-grown ones have beautiful light-







732 SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.

colored bands, like rings, about their bodies. As
they 'ir .Il,',, idl' t l',-hi ii :.t'-: iu '. b the c
surfa. tl-. lL .. L.r .: ..:. like *j rnL.e:ar.s; -itrrkiIiL
acrc thie 1al:k. I nr,-cr hI::d ~uLLL C :'d ill
captui-iirZ r LN.i L.i im ll -p..-:imenieiis t.iii'


_ '- ,
.-: ::_. I'X


THE THUNDER-AND-LIGHTNING SNAKE.


snake, and, as I wanted a good one, with the
bright-red color on the under side of the body,
which is not attained until he has grown quite
large, I started out with my can, net, and thick
gantlet glove, determined to secure a large
one if I could.
In the middle of the pond were the remnants
of an old raft. I counted five snakes and two
turtles sunning themselves thereon. I '11 have


* *. ~ S 'I


I,,
il 1 I- S
*';'IA?'

-.7* ^- 7.'7i

7


one of those before I go home I said to my-
self. I threw some stones, hitting the raft and
scattering its occupants into the water. I waited
a long time after this, watching a snake snap up
little frogs, and all at once it occurred to me
that possibly I myself might make use of a
frog for bait. I saw a dead one floating near
the bank. Only a few feet out was a large flat
rock. I managed to reach this dry-shod, and,





, -


"' .. '
-." 7 ; :"
.1 /I
iiiF
,... ,

." '. '. i!
I "


'.. .


THE RED-BELLIED WATER-SNAKE.


. I


"~-~"
''






SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


, 1'-.,-,

(


A RATTLESNAKE COILED.

stooping, dropped my frog gently into the head coming toward the bait. I lay flat on the
water. My heart thrilled as I saw a little dark rock and held my gloved hand ready. Nearer


-"






SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


he came and nearer, and when he seemed to
be within reach I made a quick plunge to my
elbow-only some weeds were clutched tight
between my fingers. Another hour of long,
patient waiting, and the coveted prize came
once more to the surface. This time I
brought him up in triumph, twisting and
writhing.
My only rattlesnake was caught alive by a
young girl who had that summer killed eleven
on her farm in California. This snake has five
rattles, which, if we believe they denote the age,
will show that he is five years old. Darwin
believed that the rattle, besides being used as
a warning to keep off the
snakes' enemies, some-
times is employed to call
their mates.
The heads of most of
the venomous snakes, .'
including the "rattlers"
bulge just beyond the
neck. Without excep-
tion they have fangs,
either always erect, or
raised and laid back
at will. These fangs \
are long, sharp-pointed
teeth, with a hollow
groove running their I, ,
entire length. At the
root of each fang is a
little bag of poison.
When the snake bites,
the motion presses the
poison-sac, and its contents flows down through
the hollow in the tooth into the puncture or
wound. The harmless little forked tongue is
often spoken of by the uninformed as the snake's
"stinger." Now, there is no propriety in the
name, as the poisonous snakes do not sting,
but bite, their victims. There is no creature,
even if brought from foreign countries where
"rattlers" do not exist, but will halt and tremble
at the first warning sound of the rattle.
Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, with others, has been
making experiments with the venom of different
serpents. He has found that, aside from its
poisonous qualities, it contains living germs,
which have the power of increasing enor-


mously fast. So, you see, when an animal is
bitten, these tiny bits of life, entering with the
poison, cause harmful action to begin almost at
once. Dr. Mitchell has found that the nervous
center controlling the act of striking seems
to be in the spinal cord, for if he cut off a
snake's head, and then pinched its tail, the
stump of its neck turned back, and would have
struck his hand had he been bold enough to
hold it still.
When a snake has bitten several times, the
poison is quite exhausted for the time being,
rendering the animal comparatively harmless.
It is said to be this fact which enables the


'.RTCUN SHOWlkq
Q. aF. FNIo CIP E
T'HEi POISON FANo
o-e ThIE SN A 1r


Indian snake-charmers to
handle their charges without
danger. They tease them
into anger, when they will
readily bite a stick or bundle
of rags, and so exhaust their venom. Perhaps it
will be well here to say a few words more .in
regard to snake-charmers. Many kinds of ser-
pents, especially the hooded cobra of India,
are thought to be affected by music. In cap-
turing them for exhibition, the Indian takes his
bagpipe, and, stationing himself near an old
well or ruin, begins to play. A cobra is almost
certain to make its appearance soon, for they
are very numerous in that country. They are
held in sacred reverence, the little children
calling them Uncle," and setting saucers of
milk for them to drink; and they are looked
upon as guardian angels. Should one be
killed the slayer would suffer death in punish-






SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


1892.]


ment. As the music of the bagpipe rises and tremolo it puffed its body out; the violin sud-
falls, the snake seems to sway slowly to and fro, denly produced the sound of bagpipes, which
and, all unconscious, is seized by the musician's greatly excited the snake; soft minor
confederate. In this state chords were then played and a sudden
of musical excitement the sharp discord struck without warning.
snakes are said to be quite The snake flinched whenever this was
safe to handle, although x done, as if it had been struck." This
I think I should not care seems to show that the snakes have a
to try it myself. highly sensitive nervous-organization.
A man has lately been The Indians say that this snake used
making investigations on to have seven heads, but now it has
this subject at the Lon- only one, and that its hood is the rem-
don Zo6logical Gardens. nant of the other six.
He hired a violinist, and The African cobra is regarded some-
together they went to the what differently by the natives of that


ca~ .-.".



THE HOODED COBRA.


serpents' quarters. He says: "We selected
for our serenade a large yellow Indian cobra,
which was lying coiled up asleep on the gravel
at the bottom of his cage. At the first note
of the violin the snake instantly raised its
head, and fixed its bright yellow eye with a
set gaze on the little door at the back of the
cage, whence the sound came. The music then
became gradually louder, and the snake raised
itself in traditional attitude, on its tail, and
spread its hood, slowly oscillating from one side
to the other, as the violin played in waltz-time.
There was a most strangely interested look in
the cobra's eye and attitude at this time, and the
slightest change in the volume or character of
the music was met by an instantaneous change
in the movement or poise of the snake. At the


country, who, once a year, kill a cobra-de-capello
and hang its skin to the branch of a tree, tail
downward. Then all the children born dur-
ing the past year are brought out and made to
touch the skin. This, their parents think, puts
them under the serpent's protection. The cobra-
de-capello -divides with the horned viper of
Africa the questionable honor of being the
"worm of Nile," to whose venomous tooth
Cleopatra's death was due.
The Kafirs use the venom of this snake's
cousin, the puff-adder, to poison their arrows;
and when they have any small quantity left
they swallow it, having a theory that it will
protect them from the bad effects of future
bites.
The Snake Tribe of the Punjab say that the


"- ~s.
~9aS~i~a~B1 -






SOMETHING ABOUT SNAKES.


bites of snakes do not hurt them; and if they
find a dead serpent, they dress it in clothes and
give it a superb funeral.
Some one has discovered that the leaves of
a bitter aromatic plant, Aristolochia Indica, if
bruised into a pulp, mixed with a little water,
and swallowed, will often cure the bite of the
Indian cobra. It has been known to cure even
when the victim showed no sign of life save
warmth of the body; but the most general
remedy is the snake-stone. Professor Faraday
has found this to be made of charred bone. It
is applied to a bite, and when it drops off of
its own accord, the patient is said to be out of
danger. These stones are used also in Mexico.
Our own North American Indians will not
kill a snake in their path. They hold it in rev-
erence, and although they select great numbers
of them to use in their snake-dances, they never
kill them, but, when the ceremony is finished,
take them out on the plains and release them.





















THE HOR

Some Zufii Indians from New Mexico, with
whom I became acquainted, refused to repeat
their folklore out of doors for fear the rattle-
snakes would hear.
A few words, now, as to the habits of snakes
in general. All snakes, poisonous or otherwise,
with the exception of the Anodon family, have
two rows of teeth on the roof of the mouth,


fine, sharp, and pointing backward; so you
see it would be very hard for a small animal,
once caught, to escape after these teeth have
fastened on him. If any teeth are broken or
injured, they are replaced by new ones.
Snakes shed their teeth, now and then, as
they shed their skins. Many of our wild birds
use the snake-skins in nest-building.
In the fall, when the leaves begin to turn,
and before the first frost comes, our snakes
collect in numbers, from three or four to a
dozen or more, roll themselves in balls, in a
hole in the ground or in a hollow tree, and
there they remain in a state of hibernation, or
deep sleep, through the winter. They can live
for a long time without food.


NED VIPER.


One day, as I was putting a snake I had
caught into a can that I carried for the pur-
pose, a lady, hunting for botanical specimens,
stopped and regarded me some moments in
silence. Then she asked me what I was going
to do with it.' I answered, Preserve it."
Upon which she asked, "Do they make good
preserves?"











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

By BRANDER MATTHEWS.


[Begun in the Novezmber number.]
CHAPTER XVIII.
MAKING READY.
R. RAPALLO re-
ported to Tom that
the title to the va-
cant block was still
in dispute.
"There 's no
knowing," he said,
"when that law-
suit will be settled.
S It has been going
on for seventeen years now, and everybody in-
terested in.it has come to hate everybody else;
and so they persist in fighting like the Kilkenny
cats.' "
"Then we can't get permission to look for the
two thousand guineas ? Tom asked, anxiously.
"We shall have to do without permission,"
Uncle Dick replied. And I suppose that we
shall be trespassers when we go into that vacant
block to dig up your great-grandfather's gold."
It is n't our fault that our money is there,"
said Tom.
"No," his uncle responded. It is n't our
fault, and it is n't the fault of the first owner
of the money; whereas if the first owner of the
land had exercised proper care over it, he
would have refused to harbor on it the body
of a thief laden with stolen goods."
"When we find the gold," Tom asked, do
you think the bags in which it was tied will
still be there, or will they have rotted away ? "
I should n't wonder if the bags would be
gone," Mr. Rapallo replied.
"That's what I thought," Tom continued;
"and so I have bought some bagging. It 's
coarse, but it 's very strong--and I don't think
we need care about the looks -"
"If the gold looks all right," Uncle Dick
VOL. XIX.--47.


interrupted, I don't think it will matter what
we put it in."
"I 've asked Polly to make me four bags,
just the same number the money was in when
my great-grandfather had it," said Tom. Of
course, I did n't tell her what I wanted them
for; I don't believe in trusting women with
secrets. Do you, Uncle Dick?"
Mr. Rapallo smiled. "As I 've told you
before," he answered, "the best way to keep
your secret safe is to keep it all to yourself.
That 's one reason I have n't told you yet how
I propose to get the water for our hydraulic
mining. But come out with me on Saturday
afternoon, and I will show you how I mean to
manage it."
Since his return from his journey, Mr. Ra-
pallo had settled down into his old way of life
at his sister's house. He was still irregular and
erratic in his comings and goings. When he
went out in the 'morning, the household never
knew when he would return. Some days he
seemed to have little or nothing to do, and on
the other days he was apparently full of en-
gagements. Knowing that Tom was free from
his duties only on Saturday afternoon, he ar-
ranged to have that time free.
About three o'clock on the Saturday before
Decoration Day, he and Tom walked over to
the vacant block where the stepping-stones
were, for a final examination before they should
attempt to find the buried treasure.
The vacant block was of dimensions common
enough in New York. It was about two hun-
dred feet wide from street to street, and nearly a
thousand feet long from avenue to avenue. The
stepping-stones were on the northern side of the
block about one third way from the eastern
end; and over them projected the tongue of
made land which had been filled in mainly with
builder's rubbish. The original level of the
ground sloped sharply from the east to the






TOM PAULDING.


west, as the brook had coursed briskly along,
hastening away to the Hudson River.
Mr. Rapallo and Tom were pleased to find,
what they had never noted before, perhaps
because the entrance to it was overrun with
brambles, that a culvert had been left to carry
off the waters of the brook, which must, then,
have been flowing, when the avenue on the
western end of the block had been carried
across, high in the air above the original level
of the land thereabouts.
The brook, still easily to be traced by the
stunted willows that once lined its bank, had
dried up years before Tom and his uncle
tramped along its bed; but the culvert had
survived the stream.
It is a piece of good fortune," said Mr.
Rapallo, that the old outlet of the stream is
still here. It will serve to take away the water;
and now we need not fear that we shall not
have fall enough to carry off the waste we shall
wash out of the bank."
But where are you going to get the water?"
asked Tom.
"Come and see," his uncle answered, leading
the way from the sunken lots up the bank to
the street level.
The stepping-stones were perhaps three hun-
dred feet from the northeast corner of the
block, and the tongue of land above them pro-
jected perhaps fifty or sixty feet into the hollow
sunken lot.
Mr. Rapallo took Tom along the sidewalk
of the street which bounded the block on the
south, and they followed it until they came
opposite the stepping-stones.
Here," he said, laying his hand on a sort
of iron post which rose from. the sidewalk at
the edge of the gutter, what is this ?"
"That 's a hydrant," replied Tom; "that 's
to supply water to the engines when there 's
a fire."
"Then why should n't it supply us with the
water we need ? his uncle asked.
Well," Tom hesitated a moment, "I sup-
pose it would, perhaps. I don't see why it
should n't. But how are you going to get a
key to turn it on? "
I 've got it already," Mr. Rapallo answered,
taking the key from his pocket.


Oh! cried Tom. But how are you going
to get hose to fit this hydrant, and to reach 'way
across the block here ? "
I 've ordered that," Uncle Dick replied. I
saw that you had done all the thinking over
this problem and had worked it out for your-
self, so I determined to help you all I could.
I was n't going to see you fail for want of a
little aid when you needed it most."
"Uncle Dick, I -" began Tom.
"I know all about it," said his uncle, check-
ing Tom's thanks with a kindly pat on the
shoulder. You need n't say another word."
"But -" the boy began again.
But me no buts," laughed Mr. Rapallo, or
I will not tell you anything about the hose I
have ordered. There will be one section about
forty feet long, like fire-engine hose, and made
to fit this hydrant. Then I shall have per-
haps a hundred and twenty-five feet of ordi-
nary garden hose, with a valve and joint so
that we can fasten it to the end of the larger
hose."
"Won't the difference in size hinder us? "
Tom inquired.
"I think not," his uncle answered. "The
reduction in the section of the tube through
which the water is delivered ought to increase
the force of the current as it leaves the nozle-
and that is just what we want. The one thing
that I am afraid of is that the common or gar-
den hose won't be able to stand the strain put
on it. But we shall have to take our chances
as to that."
"Is the hose ready ?" asked Tom.
"It is to be delivered at the house to-night,"
Mr. Rapallo replied.
"But then Polly will want to know what it
is," Tom suggested promptly.
"And I shall not tell her," Uncle Dick de-
clared ; at least, I shall tell her only that it is
something for me."
"Well," Tom continued, "I suppose that she
won't dare to ask you too many questions. But
she '11 be wild to know what it is."
On their way home Tom asked his uncle
what time he thought would be the best to
begin work on Decoration Day morning.
The sooner the better," Mr. Rapallo replied.
Before breakfast ? Tom inquired.







TOM PAULDING.


"Before daybreak! his uncle answered;
"that is to say, it ought to be light enough for
us to work soon after four o'clock, as the sun
rises at half-past four."
Oh!" said Tom, feeling that here was an
added new experience for him, as he had never
in his life been out of the house before six
o'clock in the morning.
"We must get our work done before any-
body is stirring about," Mr. Rapallo explained.
"That's our only chance of doing what we
have to do without fear of interruption. We
don't want to have a crowd about us when
we are playing the hose on that pile of earth
there; and I think that hydraulic mining in the
streets of New York is novelty enough to draw
a crowd pretty quickly, even in this part of the
city. Fortunately, there is hardly a house near
enough to the place where we are going to mine
to make it likely that we shall disturb any one
so early in the morning. Besides, we sha'n't
make much noise."
It's a good thing that there is n't a station
of the elevated railroad on either of the streets
that go past the place," Tom remarked. There
are people coming and going to the stations at
all hours of the night, so Cissy tells me. His
house is just by a station."
"I do not think any one is likely to see us at
work unless he suspects what we are up to,"
said Uncle Dick. By the way, is there any
danger from that inquisitive boy you used to
call Corkscrew ?"
No," Tom answered. I don't believe
Corkscrew Lott will be up at half-past four-
or at half-past six either."
I hope we shall have our job done before
six," said Mr. Rapallo.
Of course," Tom continued, Corkscrew
would get up overnight if he thought he could
pry out anything. But I don't believe that he
will bother us this time, because he is kept abed
with a sprained ankle."
Then we need not worry about him," Uncle
Dick remarked.
I heard that he was better this morning,"
Tom added doubtfully. "Perhaps he 'll be out
by Decoration Day."
"I do not believe that there is much chance
of this Corkscrew's bothering us; and if he


does, why-there will be time enough to at-
tend to him then," Mr. Rapallo replied.
And when the time came, Uncle Dick was
able to attend to him.
On Monday, Tom told Cissy Smith and
Harry Zachary that all was ready to begin work
the next morning. Decoration Day came on a
Tuesday that year.
"Shucks cried Cissy, that lets me out.
Father will want to know where I 'm going, if I
try to get out of the house 'in the morning
by the bright light,' as you want me to."
"And my mother would never let me go,"
said Harry Zachary; at least not without
asking awkward questions."
"I told Uncle Dick that I did n't believe
you two fellows could get off; and he said
he'd settle that."
"Father would settle me," Cissy declared,
"if he caught me at it."
"Uncle Dick is going to ask Dr. Smith if
you can't spend to-night with me so that we
can all go off on an expedition with him in
the morning."
"Then I guess it '11 be all right," Cissy ad-
mitted. My father sets store by your uncle.
He knew him out in Denver, you know, and
he thinks a lot of him."
"And how about me ? asked Harry Zachary.
"Uncle Dick 's fixed that too," Tom ex-
plained. "He 's going to get my mother to
write to your mother inviting you over to our
house to spend the night."
"I reckon that '11 do it," responded Harry.
"Uncle Dick 's going to take Cissy into his
room; and you are to sleep with me, Harry,"
said Tom.
I don't believe we shall sleep much," Cissy
declared; "we shall be too excited to sleep."
Napoleon used to slumber soundly before
his biggest and bloodiest battles," Harry Zach-
ary remarked reflectively; "and I reckon it 's
a good habit to get into."
As it happened, the boys went to bed far
earlier than they had expected. Mr. Rapallo
succeeded in arranging with Dr. Smith that
Cissy should be left in his charge for one night,
and Mrs. Zachary intrusted, her son to Mrs.
Paulding-to whom Uncle Dick gave no rea-
son for the invitation other than that he was go-


739






TOM PAULDING.


ing to take the three boys out on an expedition,
and that they would see the sun rise.
When Polly heard this, she wanted to go
too. But Mr. Rapallo tactfully suggested a
variety of reasons why she should not join the
party; and some one of them must have struck
the little girl as adequate, for she did not renew
her request.
After supper- during which meal it had been
very difficult for the three boys to refrain from
discussing the subject they were all thinking
about- Mr. Rapallo gave them each a coil of
hose, and they set out for the vacant block.
There was more hose than could conveniently
be carried at once by the four of them. So they
took about half of it the evening before, and
left it in the open air, half hidden under the
bushes. There was no moon, and Mr. Rapallo
thought that it would be perfectly safe to trust
the hose at night in a place where nobody was
likely to go.
When they had returned to the house it was
barely eight o'clock, but Uncle Dick promptly
sent the boys off to bed;-or rather, he led
the way himself, answering their protests by
the assertion that they would need all the sleep
they could get. He declared that he was not
going to have his workmen too sleepy to see
what they were about in the morning.
He set them the example himself, and all
four were sound asleep before nine o'clock.
They had had nearly seven hours' slumber
when Mr. Rapallo roused them. In. the gray
dawn-which struck them as being colder and
darker than they had expected--the boys
dressed themselves hastily. They gladly ate
the bread and butter that Uncle Dick had
ready for them; and each drank a glass or two
of milk.
Then they crept softly down-stairs and out
into the garden. Mr. Rapallo divided the rest
of the hose among them, and took as his own
load three light spades and a pickax.
Thus the procession set out. Tom's heart
had already begun to beat with alternating
hopes and doubts; he was in haste to get at
the work and to find the buried treasure as
soon as might be. Cissy Smith and Harry
Zachary had a boyish delight in the pleasantly
romantic flavor of the adventure. To them it


was as if they were knights-errant going to a
rescue, or scouts setting out on a scalp-hunt,
or, perhaps, pirates making ready for a sea-
fight against a Spanish galleon laden with
doubloons. Harry Zachary's imagination was
the more active; but in his own way Cissy
Smith took quite as much enjoyment in the
situation.
CHAPTER XIX.
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY.
SHEY walked on as
the gray dawn was
breaking with a
faint, rosy tinge in
the eastern sky.
Two abreast, they
r ? bore with them the
Implements of their
A) new craft. Tied in
a bundle and slung
over his shoulder, Tom had also the bags in
which to put the buried treasure.
When they had come to the vacant block,
they set down part of the hose on the sidewalk.
The rest they carried with them down the steep
sides of the lot.
The first thing Tom and Mr. Rapallo did
was to make sure that the things which had
been brought overnight were still there. Ap-
parently no one had touched these; probably
no one had even seen them.
"Now, boys," cried Uncle Dick, "I '11 go to
work and get the hose ready, while you dig me
a trench to carry off the water and the waste
it will wash down."
The stepping-stones crossed what had been
the middle of a wide pool into which the
brook had broadened. A little below, the
ground sloped away sharply. As Tom be-
lieved that the remains of Jeffrey Kerr lay at the
bottom of the pool, covered with sand, it was
needful to remove not only the later rubbish,
shot down from the street when the projecting
tongue of land was made out into the block,
but also to get a fall of water sufficient to carry
off the sand at the bottom of the pool.
Fortunately, this was not a difficult task. By
digging a trench a foot wide around a rock
which had retarded the stream, and by carry-






TOM PAULDING.


ing it along less than twenty feet, the natural
declivity of the ground would then bear the
water off to the open culvert at the end of the
block.
Mr. Rapallo consulted with the boys as to
the best course of this little trench. Then he
roughly traced its path with the point of the
pick, loosening the earth here and there where


ble tube more than a hundred and fifty feet
long, with the hydrant at one end and a broad
nozle at the other.
When he had thus prepared the hose for its
work, he went over to the trench to see how
the boys were getting on. By this time the sun
had risen and was visible, a dull-red ball glow-
ing in the east and slowly climbing the sky.


"THUS THE PROCESSION SET OUT."


it seemed more than ordinarily compact. They
set to work with the spades he had brought,
while he went over to make ready the hose.
The sections of common kind were first un-
rolled and stretched out across the block from
the point of attack toward the hydrant. He
screwed them firmly together. Then he went
up to the hydrant and fastened to it the section
of heavier hose, to the lower end of which was
affixed a screw-joint to receive the end of the
garden hose. By the aid of this, Mr. Rapallo
joined the two kinds; and he had then a flexi-


"Are you all ready?" cried Tom, as his
uncle came up.
I can turn on the water now if you have
the trench done," was the answer.
The boys had followed the line Mr. Rapallo
had traced, and, working with the eagerness and
enthusiastic strength of youth, they had dug a
ditch both broader and deeper than he had de-
clared to be necessary.
"That 's excellent," said Uncle Dick, when
he saw what they had done. It could n't be
better."






TOM PAULDING.


Shall we knock off now ?" asked Cissy.
You need n't do anything more to the
trench," Mr. Rapallo answered. "That is just
right. Gather up the spades and take them
out of the way of the water."
Then as they drew back he explained what
he proposed next. What they needed to do was
to lay bare the original surface of the pool by
the stepping-stones. To do that they would
have to wash out a hole in the bank at least
twenty feet broad, perhaps fifteen high, and
certainly ten feet deep.
Can you do that with the hose?" asked
Cissy, doubtfully.
I think so," Mr. Rapallo answered. Luckily
we shall have a strong head of water. Owing to
the work on the new aqueduct, part of the sup-
ply for this portion of the city has been shut off
below us for three or four days, so that here-
abouts there is a very full pressure. What I 'm
most in doubt about is whether this small hose
will stand it. We might as well find out as soon
as possible. Tom, you can take this key and
turn on the hydrant up there."
Tom hastily grasped the key, and sprang
away across the open space. In a minute he
had climbed to the street and turned on the
water.
Mr. Rapallo seized the hose by the long brass
nozle and stood pointing it firmly toward the
bank of earth before him. As Tom opened the
valve of the hydrant, the long line of hose stiff-
ened and filled out. There was a whishing of
air out of the nozle as the water rushed into
the flexible tube. At the juncture of the larger
hose with the smaller the joint was not tight,
and a fine spray filled the air.
"Let's see if you can tighten that," cried
Mr. Rapallo to Cissy, who ran back at once
and succeeded in nearly stopping the leak.
Then the smaller hose distended to the utmost.
But Mr. Rapallo's fears were groundless, for it
was stanch and stood the strain.
It seemed but a second after Tom had turned
the handle of the hydrant that a stout stream of
water gushed solidly from the end of the pipe
and curved in a powerful arch toward the bank
before them.
Uncle Dick turned the stream upon the lower
end of the trench the boys had dug, and in a


minute he had washed it out to double its former
capacity.
On his way back Tom joined Cissy and as-
sisted him to tighten the valve which united the
two kinds of hose. Harry Zachary had been
helping Mr. Rapallo to get the end of the tube









\












into working order, ad-
justing the curves and
straightening it, so the
utmost force of water
might be available. "IN A SECOND, CORKSCREW
When he had washed ASE SOAKED THROUGH."
out their trench, Mr.
Rapallo raised the nozle and carefully directed
the stream full at the center of the bank be-
fore him, striking it at what had been the level
of the ground before the filling in. The water
plunged into the soft earth, and in less than five
minutes it had washed out a large cave five or
six feet deep.
Then Uncle Dick brought the force of the
current again into the ditch which had partly
filled up. The stream, adroitly applied first
at the lower end, swept out the trench as if
a giant were at work on it with a huge broom.
Turning the water again on the bank of
earth, Mr. Rapallo loosened the overhanging
roof of the cavern he had first made, and it fell
in soft heaps as the stream bored its way into
the mound of earth. The hose removed the
dirt faster than a dozen men could have shov-


742







eled it away; and a little attention now and
then served to spread the washed out stuff
over the lower part of the vacant block, leaving
open a channel by which the water could
make its escape to the culvert.
Minute by minute the cavity in the tongue
of made land grew larger and larger, and the
rubbish dumped there-ashes, builder's dirt,
even old bits of brick and odds and ends of
broken plaster-seemed to melt away under
the impact of the curving current of water.
The sun slowly rose, and its early rays fell
on this bending fountain, which sparkled as' if
it were a string of diamonds. As yet not a sin-
gle passer had disturbed them at their work.
But now and again the rattle of an early milk-
cart could be heard in the morning quiet.
Once, when the bulk of the earth to be re-
moved was nearly gone, Harry Zachary tapped
Mr. Rapallo on the shoulder and pointed to
the avenue on the west of them. Uncle Dick
turned off the flow at once and in the silence
they heard the wagon of a market-gardener
come rumbling toward them. Mr. Rapallo
raised his hand, and they all sheltered them-
selves hastily under the shadow of the bank
until the intruder had passed on out of hearing.
As Uncle Dick turned on the water again he
said, "We 've been very lucky, so far. But
as soon as we get this first job done I think we
had better put out sentinels."
In a few minutes more the heap of dirt was
washed away and the original level of the
ground was laid bare up to the edge of the tall
rock by the side of which Tom hoped to find
his great-grandfather's guineas.
Uncle Dick thoroughly cleaned out the
trench again and then turned off the stream.
Now, Tom," he said, here we 've got down
to the surface of the soil as it used to be. We
are now standing on what was the bottom of
the brook before it dried up. Where had we
best begin on this?"
Here," Tom answered, pointing to the base
of the tall rock. "At least it seems to me that
if a man tried to cross on those stepping-stones
there, and got washed off by the brook, his body
would be carried into.the pool there, and then
it would be rolled over and over and nearer
and nearer to that rock."


743


"Well," Uncle Dick returned, "I think that's
the place, myself. But we must clear away
here so that the water can get in its fine work."
He took the pickax and loosened a few
stones and pried them out. The boys opened
another trench leading down to the first ditch.
When this was done, Mr. Rapallo said, We
shall know in ten minutes now whether Tom
has located his mine properly, or whether the
claim is to be abandoned."
Tom was excited, and his voice shook as he
answered, Go ahead, Uncle Dick; the sooner
I know the better."
"I think we ought to have outposts," Mr.
Rapallo declared. Cissy, will you keep your
eyes open for any one approaching from the
south or east ? Harry, you take charge of the
north side and the west. Tom, stay with me."
This last admonition was hardly necessary,
as it would have been difficult to make Tom
move a step just then.
Cissy went back to the left of the group and
looked about him. .Harry withdrew a little to
the right. But the fascination of expectancy
was upon them both, and they kept a most
negligent watch. They had eyes only for the
stream of water, as Mr. Rapallo turned it on
again and as it tore its way into the compact
sand which had formed the bottom of the
brook. Only now and again did they recall
their appointed duties, and then they would
give but a hasty glance around.
The current of water washed out the edge of
the bottom of the pool, and Mr. Rapallo was
able to expose a depth of fully five feet, into
which the stream was steadily eating its way.
As the open space approached nearer and
nearer to the tall rock at the base of which
Tom hoped to find the buried treasure, his
heart began to beat, and he pressed forward in
his eagerness to be the first to see whatever
might have been hidden in the sand of the
brook.
When about two yards remained between
the tall rock and the widening breach made by
the water, he thought he caught sight of some-
thing white. With a cry he sprang forward,
and just at that moment the stream washed
away the sand which had concealed the bones
of a human foot and leg.


TOM PAULDING.






TOM PAULDING.


At that moment there came a whistle from
Cissy Smith:
Hail.


In a second, as it seemed, this was followed
by a second warning from Harry Zachary:

Hail


Involuntarily, Tom whistled the answer:

.__. C
Answer.


Then he looked at Cissy, who was pointing to
the figure of a man standing on the sidewalk
behind them, within a yard of the hydrant.
Mr. Rapallo looked also, and then waved
his hand. The man waved back.
"That 's all right," said Uncle Dick.
Something in the man's gesture seemed fa-
miliar to Tom as he saw it indistinctly in
the growing light of the morning.
Is n't that the Old Gentleman who leaned
over the Wall? he asked.
"Yes," his uncle replied. "And is n't that
your friend Corkscrew?" he continued, indi-
cating a tall figure in high boots who was
then advancing out on the tongue of made
land before them.


This was the stranger Harry Zachary had
seen when it was too late. As this visitor came
to the edge of the hollow which they had
washed out, they knew that it was Corkscrew
Lott.
What's he doing here ? Tom wondered. I
thought he was in bed with a sprained foot."
"I '11 send him to bed again with a shock of
surprise," said Mr. Rapallo, raising the nozle
again and turning on the stream.
As it gushed forth, Uncle Dick aimed it full
and square at Corkscrew, and it took the in-
truider first in the chest and then in the face.
In a second he was soaked through. He turned
and twisted and staggered back, but Mr. Ra-
pallo never relented. The full stream was kept
steadily on the inquisitive visitor until the tall
boy crawled out on the sidewalk and started
home on a full run.
As soon as he was out of sight, Tom cried to
Mr. Rapallo, "Turn it on the place where it
was before, Uncle Dick; I think I saw a bone
there !"
"I thought I saw it, too," Mr. Rapallo
replied, as the full head of water began search-
ing again in the sand.
Tom ran forward as far as he could, and in a
moment he gave a cry of joy; for the water was
uncovering a human skeleton, and among the
bones he had caught a glitter of gold.


(To be continued.)


A CURIOUS TANDI M


c. -
''.,













1


1


P






-r
rrll


I wish Id minded mama just ri\ht,
And thought ofher .smiles and Kisses,
Tor if we were forced to spend the night
In any such place as this i ,
ly Dolly would die and So should I
But the only plan I see
Is just to stay till they come this way
And find my Dolly and me


\ "Year with Dolly

B1y Eudora S. 3Bumstead,

WJe slipped thro' the Sate this afternoon
When Bridoet for,ot to latch it ;
A cricket fi7bbeb a queer little tune,
And we hurried along to catch it.
I wish we'd stayed in the yard and played,
Tor we've wandered and turned an( CroSSeb
LIp and down all over the town,
Till Dolly is afraidd we re lost.






-. -..
ks


\ _


7, \ /'\
.i,,\,


- -"












A QUIET BEACH.

BY W. A. ROGERS.


"I DON'T want to see de elephant; fere
does the sand-diggin's begin?"
That was what Bobby said as he toddled
over endless plank-walks, catching occasional
glimpses of the sea between merry-go-rounds
dancing-platforms, and bathing-pavilions.
It was a desire to please this disappointed
little lad that led to the discovery of the
quiet beach; a place of pure delight to old-
fashioned folks and little children who can see
in an unbroken stretch of shining sand a path-
way of infinite wonders.
No doubt the people who like the din and
bustle of the great resorts would find this quiet
beach unendurably stupid; but to those who
had eyes to see and ears to hear there was en-
tertainment in plenty.
It would be more generous, perhaps, to go
into particulars and state just what train or
boat these good people took when they jour-
neyed to their delectable strip of sand. There
are other old-fashioned people who would like
to know where such a place of quietude could
be found near the bustling city. But the risk
of having this one haven of rest destroyed is
too great to be taken lightly. It must suffice,
then, to describe what these good people did
and what they saw after they got there.
The first necessity of the party was a shelter
from the sun. A little "beach-combing" re-
sulted in the finding of many bamboo poles,


S "- bits of board, and a great,
ragged piece of coarse wicker.
Out of these materials and all the
wraps, coats, and umbrellas belonging to the
party, a rude kind of tent was constructed.
The children were informed in a very im-
pressive manner by their father that the pieces
of wicker had floated there from some great
fortification where, in the shape of a basket
filled with sand, it had formed part of a breast-
work. But Hannah, the old colored nurse,

















said it looked "mighty like de, wicker dey use
to pack dates wif." Whether it had formed a
part of our harbor defenses or not was a matter
of great moment until the family dog, a tiny
creature, was observed attacking a belated
horseshoe-crab that had been left ashore by
the retreating tide.
Hannah got the children into their bathing-
suits as soon as the shelter was completed, and
Mr. Eugene (so Hannah called their uncle) ap-






A 'QUIET BEACH. 747























"WAITING FO A BIG WAVE TO TUMBLE THEM ALL OVER.
peared at the door of an abandoned fishing- youngsters into an old boat that lay half sunken
shanty, ready to take the youngsters into the in the sand, and then he would sit and spin
water. them yarns about wrecks and pirates, and the
It was a pretty sight to see the little people mighty sea-serpent, while their eyes got big as
----~ .-
















clinging to a great barrel-hoop, their uncle in his stories expanded.
the center, waiting for a big wave to tumble When the sun was high a gentle breeze
them all over. sprang up, and soon, like butterflies flitting over
A little way up the beach stood a lighthouse, the waves, a fleet of canoes came sailing in close
There the children soon made acquaintance to the shore. Their skippers gazed curiously
at the strange tent on the
beach, evidently having
y- -- 7-;--2--'' taken it for the camp of
.some roving canoeman.
"Then they sheered off and
..J -9 -'1_ -iJ flitted away again.
S.-' By and by a short little
"-" "S man carrying a square
I ,' basket and a rod and reel
,- -came down the beach,
S ~ and carefully selecting his
,y/' ground rolled an old keg
S" from a pile of drift, set it
S ------' up on end and sat down
on it. Then he jointed
"A STRANDED SCHOOL OF WOODEN DOLLS." (SEE NEXT PAGE.) his rod, took some soft
with the keeper, a jolly, old, brown son of the clams from his basket, baited his hooks, and
surf, who always wore a pair of oilskin trousers, with a mighty whirl of the rod cast his line
were it fair or foul. Sometimes he would get the far out into the low, curling breakers.





A QUIET BEACH.


The youngsters soon made his acquaintance
also, and he showed them where to look for
delicate little mussels, and told the boys how
to cook them, so that to the contents of the
hamper were added roast mussels cooked on a
piece of an old sheet-iron trunk over a fire of
drift-wood.
The older folks found the conglomerate can-
opy of umbrellas and things a great addition to
their comfort during the heat of the day, but
the youngsters in their bathing-trunks and big


-7 't\
A- // L


iQd


'4 t.,'


' ^*A i's.


"AT THE HEAD OF THE PROCESSION WALKED A NUN."


hats reveled in the sunshine, and con-
stantly made new discoveries.
First it was a stranded school of wooden
dolls. There were hundreds of the tiny
weather-beaten idols. Bobby said Santa
Claus must have been wrecked there. A big
wooden sabot was the next find, and the
children never tired searching for its mate.
Toward evening a strange, dark, mov-
ing line appeared on the beach to the
westward. It soon resolved itself into a
file of little boys, each carrying a towel
and bathing-trunks over-his arm.
At the head of the procession walked
a nun, her sad, calm face almost hidden
in the shadow of her black bonnet.


There were nearly a
hundred boys in line, and
they moved along at a
quiet pace toward a row
of old weather-beaten
bath-houses hidden in a -
cedar-grove.
The sad-faced nun sat down by the sea and
opened a tiny black book to read while the boys
donned their trunks in the bath-houses.
But the book slipped from her hands, and she
.- sat looking out over
the waves. Soon,
A from the cedar-


grove the boys came
trooping out, scamp-
ering over the sand
and shouting with
delight. But none
Sas yet went into the
;-'. surf, and it was a
"<- question to our little
party how they were
to bathe safely.
The sister picked
up her little black
book and arose; as
she did so the
scampering boys
once more formed
in line, this time
holding hands and
facing the sea. As
the sister raised her


THE BLIND BEACH-COMBER. (SEE PAGE 750.)


748


"'






1892.] A QUIET BEACH. 749

hand the little fellows with a shout, rushed into When their half-hour was up, they put on
the surf, still holding tightly to each other's their orphans' clothes and trotted off in line
hands; while the good sister walked up and behind the sister, each boy with a very damp
down the line to see that no adventurous pair of trunks over his right arm.
youngster got beyond his depth. When the Our party was in no hurry to leave the beach,


"IT WAS AN OLD MAN BAKING CLAMS IN THE TIRE OF A WAGON-WHEEL." (SEE NEXT PAGE.)


bath was over she gave them half an hour's
freedom on the beach.
This gave Bobby a chance to fraternize with
them, and he found out that none of them had
fathers or mothers; that this sister was very
kind to them, but some of the others were not,
and that they did not have ice-cream for din-
ner on Sundays.


but watched the sun go down until it shone on
the far-distant sails of a fleet of yachts return-
ing from a cruise, and finally touched only the
uppermost sail of a square-rigged merchantman
far out toward Sandy Hook.
Then the moon rose, and every one said a
stroll up the beach by moonlight would be
delightful. Soon they came upon an old






A QUIET BEACH.


"ARMINTY."
man walking slowly in a zigzag course toward
them.
In his hand he carried a stout hickory stick,
which he continually poked into the drift as he
followed the .high-tide mark. He stooped oc-
casionally to pick up some object and drop it
into the pocket of his bedraggled linen coat.
There was something uncanny in the old
man's actions that kept the whole party look-
ing at him in silence.
When he drew near they
saw that he was blind;
and as he passed by with
wide open and stony
eyes, entirely uncon-
scious of their presence,


there was such an eager, greedy look upon his
sightless face that a queer little feeling of hor-
ror came over every one. The old colored
nurse heaved a sigh as she whispered:
Dat was a fust warning ; two more, an' poor
old Hannah's time hab come! "
The passing of the blind man, and the gather-
ing darkness, made the beach seem a very mys-
terious pathway; the stunted pines, torn and
twisted by many a battle with the sea, looked to
the children strangely like the dragons in their
Japanese fairy books, and by and by, when
they saw a little ring of fire ahead of them,
and an old man with a long, white beard
dancing over it, they thought they had surely
entered in at the gates of Hobgoblin land.
But it was only an old man baking clams in
the tire of a wagon-wheel.
I 'm expecting' a big party down in a one-
horse wagon, an' I 'm getting' ready for it.
Them 's my bathin'-houses," the old man said,
pointing to what looked like a pile of old lum-
ber and driftwood. My house is just back
of them trees. Ye can go in and set down.
Arminty 's got sody an' ginger-ale, and san-
giches if you want 'em."
So they went in and sat with Arminty awhile,
and as something seemed to have happened to
the "large party who were to come in the one-
horse wagon," and it had failed to put in an
appearance, they went out on the beach again
and enjoyed the old man's clambake.
This was the end of that day on the quiet
beach; for the old man with the. white beard
hitched up his horses to a crazy old four-seated
wagon and took his
guests to a station on a
railway that shall be
nameless, and in an hour
they were at home in
rather an old-fashioned
quarter of New York.


750












TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


BY LIEUT. R. H. FLETCHER.


[Begun in the January number.]
CHAPTER XVII.

IT was the evening of the third day after
Christmas. Mildred was sitting in the library
reading one of the books her mother had given
her. Major Fairleigh was sitting in his easy-
chair; his hands were clasped behind his head,
and he was idly looking at the fire. Mrs. Fair-
leigh, on the other side of the fireplace, was at
work on some sewing, from which she every now
and then raised her eyes to glance at her hus-
band. At last Major Fairleigh took his hands
down, while his head dropped wearily back
against the chair, and he sighed. But happen-
ing at the same moment to catch his wife's
anxious look, he tried to turn the sigh into a
smile, and immediately said, with an attempt at
cheerfulness:
I wonder how Mildred would like to go."
"Go where, Papa? asked Mildred, looking
up from her book.
"To California," replied her father.
"To California t" exclaimed Mildred, opening
her eyes very wide. "With you ?"
Yes," said her father.
"And mama?"
"We could scarcely go anywhere without
mama, could we?" asked her father.
Oh," cried Mildred, clasping her hands, I
should like it ever so much! "
Then Mrs. Fairleigh arose and going over
to her husband's side, knelt down by his chair,
and putting her hand on his shoulder, said :
Do you mean it, Will? Will you go ?"
"As I have before remarked, madam," said
the Major, lightly, I don't see the necessity of
it, myself; but as you seem to have set your
heart on traveling, I suppose that you will have
to be gratified. So you may begin your prep-
arations as soon as you like."
Mildred, who had been standing in front of


her father and mother all this time, looking
and listening eagerly, did not altogether un-
derstand what was meant, but she understood
enough to know that they were going to travel.
And she burst forth eagerly with the question:
"When are we going, Papa to-morrow ? "
"To-morrow, sweetheart ? said her father,
smiling. "Well, hardly. It will take us rather
longer than that to get ready."
It won't take me longer than a week, Will,"
said Mrs. Fairleigh. "I can get ready easily
in a week."
You are as bad as Mildred," said the Major,
smiling at her. However, we will call it a
week if you like. We will start a week from
to-day."
To say that Mildred was excited at this sud-
den announcement but partly expresses her
state of mind. She did not know that the great-
est events in our life generally occur most unex-
pectedly, and I do not suppose that it would
have made any difference if she had known it.
For to Mildred it seemed as though the world
had all at once opened out before her; and she
was filled with wonder and expectation, and, it
must be confessed, some misgiving of what
might lie beyond the safe shelter of her home.
It was long before she could get to sleep that
night; and the following morning, when she
awoke, it was with a confused notion that
something had happened-that some change
had come over her life; but that it was really
so wonderful a thing as a journey across the
continent she could scarcely realize. A dread-
ful doubt arose in her mind that she had
dreamed it all. But when she went down to
the breakfast-room her mother assured her that
the plan was no dream, but a reality.
Then Mildred felt that she must tell the news
to somebody, and so, after breakfast, having
obtained her mother's permission, she ran over
to Leslie's house with the wonderful tidings.






TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


Charlie was not at home; but Mildred had
every reason to feel satisfied with the effect her
words created on Leslie. Her friend listened
with open eyes and mouth and then broke forth
into all sorts of exclamations. But they were
exclamations of regret rather than astonishment.
For to Leslie it did not seem so astounding
a thing for any one to start for California at a
week's notice-or at a day's notice, for that
matter. She was accustomed to such sudden
"changes of station" in the army. But she did
honestly regret losing Mildred.
When Charlie came in a few minutes later
and heard the news, he did not say much, but
he made it plain that he decidedly disapproved
of the whole proceeding. It was rather hard,
he said, just as they were all getting to know
each other; -particularly hard, of course, for
Leslie, he added, because there was no one she
was so intimate with as Mildred. Mildred was
not quite certain about this in her own mind,
but she accepted Charlie's assurance in the
spirit in which it was meant, and said that she
would be very sorry, indeed, to leave them
both.
You don't know how long you will be gone,
I suppose ?" said Charlie.
No," said Mildred. I think we shall stay
as long as it does papa good."
Of course," said Charlie, trying to look
more cheerful. I expect it will do him lots of
good, too; I 'm sure I hope it will. And when
you do come back we will get up another play.
Shall we ?"
Yes," said Mildred, laughing a little; "I 'm
ready."
Although," said Charlie, lapsing into gloom
again, like as not we won't be here when you
come back. Pa 's liable to be ordered off at
any moment. That 's the worst of being in the
army,-just when you make friends you always
have to leave them."
"Maybe pa will be ordered to California,"
suggested Leslie, by way of comfort. Don't
you know, Charlie, there 's some talk of the re-
giment's going to California?"
Oh, yes, I know," said Charlie; "but they
are always talking about the regiment's going
somewhere. And at any rate, even if it did
move, like as not I 'd have to go to boarding-


school; and you would n't see Mildred out there,
either."
Charlie's gloomy view of the subject was
rather depressing for Mildred. In fact, when
the time came, a few days later, for Mildred to
go around and really say farewell to all of her
friends, she did not find it a cheerful task. They
all seemed to think California such a long way
off, and the chances of her ever returning so
very uncertain, that on the whole Mildred was
glad when it was over.
Occupied in these and othbr preparations for
her departure, the week slipped by so quickly
that Mildred was quite startled when she awoke
one morning and realized that it was her last
day at home. And a trying day it proved to
be. She had said good-by to the dear old
attic, and to her dolls (all except Marie, whom
she was going to take with her), and to Miss
Betsy, the cat, and to the garden and the
empty stable, and to all the loved, familiar places
and objects, a dozen times. The trunks were
all packed and there was little to do to occupy
her mind, and that little the servants would not
let her do. Both Amanda and Eliza went
around with red eyes, and fairly overwhelmed
Mildred with kindness. In fact, the moment
Amanda had been told of the Major's decision,
she had invited Mildred to make herself at
home in the kitchen, and was continually cook-
ing her some little tart or biscuit, just as if she
was an invalid herself and needed delicacies;
while Eliza insisted on waiting on her to such
an extent that it was almost embarrassing, be-
sides making Mildred uncomfortably sorry for
having ever been ill-tempered with either of
them. When at last dinner-time came, every
one sat down and made a pretense of eating;
for although Amanda had fairly outdone her-
self in making this last dinner a good one, no
one had any appetite. It was a great relief
when eight o'clock, the hour set for departure,
arrived. Just before that time a huge transfer-
wagon drove up and stopped before the house
with a rattle and bang. There was a flashing
of lanterns, a great upheaval of trunks on men's
shoulders, and then another rattle and bang,
and wagon and trunks disappeared in the.dark-
ness. After that the carriage, driven by Eliza's
husband, was announced. Then the servants


752






1892.] TWO GIRLS
gathered in the hall, and amid sobs from Eliza
and tremulous good wishes and blessings from
old Amanda, the final good-bys were said.
Major Fairleigh was assisted into the carriage
by his friend the surgeon, who had come to see


AND A BOY. 753
slowly out of the depot. Faster and faster it
swung along to an iron tune of its own mak-
ing; the street-lights grew scarce, and farther
apart, and finally disappeared altogether; the
row of-lights on Long Bridge dwindled out of


- ,' -.-,' '*1: .

STHE SCENE WAS ALWAYS CHANGING."


them off, Mrs. Fairleigh and Mildred followed,
the door was slammed to, and away they rum-
bled through the lamp-lit streets to the depot.
Here, after the silence of the streets all seemed
noise and tumult. Hurrying travelers and their
friends, porters wheeling huge trucks heaped
high with trunks, and train-men giving orders,
made a scene of the greatest confusion. How
they ever disentangled themselves from this
throng, Mildred did not know; but, clinging
closely to her mother's side, she at last found
herself in the quiet of a Pullman car. Then the
doctor took hasty leave, and the train glided
VOL. XIX.-48.


sight and, last of all, the crown of lights on the
mighty dome of the Capitol vanished, and with
it the last trace of Washington and home.

CHAPTER XVIII.

IT is not my intention to tell all of Mildred's
experiences on that overland journey. In fact,
I could not begin to tell all the surprising
sights, the funny sights, the pretty, the tiresome,
the startling, and the stupid sights that swept
before her eyes like a panorama-a panorama
set to the music of the untiring wheels singing





TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


their iron song to the answering rails from sun-
rise to sunset, and from darkness to dawn. The
scene was always changing, and as the train
whirled on and on, it .seemed to Mildred that
they had passed so many farm-houses and
cities, trees, villages, and rivers, that there
could not be any more left to pass; but there
always were. No matter if she sat for hours
gazing out of the window in the daytime, or
woke up in the night and peeped out at the side
of the curtain, there was always a farm-house,
or trees, or a village flitting by. Everything in
the world was being left behind,--that is, every-
thing except the telegraph-poles, for they always
kept hurrying along by the side of the train, just
as though they had charge of the scenery and
were showing it to Mildred. Mildred began
to feel quite a friendship for the telegraph-poles
because they had come all the way from Wash-
ington with her. Then they were such dauntless
fellows! Scaling the mountains, skipping down
into the valleys, jumping rivers, and balancing
themselves on trestles,--nothing ever stopped
them. In fair weather or foul, there they were,
dancing along to the hammering chorus of the
iron song. That was a wonderful tune, too,
that song of the flying wheels. It set itself to
any words that Mildred pleased. When she
was light-hearted it caroled cheerily, and when
she grew tired it changed into a lullaby and
soothed her to sleep. In fact, she grew so used
to being sung to that when the train stopped at
night at some water-tank or way-station, the
silence often awoke her, and she did not go to
sleep again until the train once more began its
murmur along the rails.
When they crossed the Missouri River, at
Omaha, it seemed as though the stock of farm-
houses and cities, trees and rivers, had at last
been almost used up, for they became very
scarce, and in their place stretched the great
level prairie with nothing on it but dry grass
and prairie-dog mounds. The towns at which
the train stopped were far apart; and some of
them were no more than a single street of one-
story frame-houses, set down on the open plain,
with no trees or flowers about them-only
rough men with slouch-hats and big spurs, and
coils of rope at their saddles, who stood leaning
against their shaggy ponies watching the train


as it came in. Her father said that they were
out West now, and that these were "cow-boys."
At one of these stations Mildred saw some
queer-looking people crouching on the platform,
all huddled up in blankets with nothing but
their heads showing. Their faces were dark like
Eliza's, but their hair was long and black, and
they had very high cheek-bones and Roman
noses. Her father said they were Indians.
Mildred wondered why the people were not
afraid of them; but no one seemed to be. She
did not like to ask her father too many ques-
tions, as the doctor had told them at starting
that he must be kept as quiet as possible. But
after they had traveled further west, and Mil-
dred had become used to seeing the Indians,
she learned that they were tame Indians who
lived near the stations; and that the wild In-
dians, like the buffaloes, were no longer seen
on the line of the railroad; for which Mildred
was not sorry. Sometimes they stopped at
stations where there were soldiers, who inter-
ested Mildred more than did the Indians; for
was not her father a soldier? Then, too, these
were the plains that Charlie and Leslie, whose
father was also a soldier, had talked about so
often.
One night Mildred went to sleep after a
good-night look at the prairies, and awoke in
the morning to find herself in the mountains.
The snow lay deep upon the ground, and the
dark pine-trees arose out of it, bearing little
white scraps upon their stiff limbs. Then,
every once in a while, the glaring sunlight re-
flected from the snow outside was shut out, as
the train entered what seemed to Mildred a
tunnel. But she learned that these were snow-
sheds built to keep the snow from drifting on
the track and stopping trains altogether. One
of the passengers pointed out a place where a
party of emigrants had frozen to death in the
snow, many years previously, before the rail-
road was built. It seemed very queer to Mil-
dred to see how bitterly cold and desolate it
was outside and how easy it would be to starve
and freeze to death in those solitudes, and yet,
at the same time, how warm and pleasant and
homelike it was in the car;
But this contrast was nothing compared to
one that presented itself, a day or two later,


[AUG.






1892.] TWO GIRLS

when the train began swinging down the west-
ern slope of the Sierras. In twelve hours they
had left behind snow and rock, frost and pine-
trees, and were gliding along in a pretty valley
where the grass was green and the birds were
chirping and the flowers blooming, all as though
it was June, instead of January. In fact it was
just as though they had ridden from winter into
summer. Only the telegraph-poles and the iron
song of the hammering wheels remained to re-
mind the travelers of their home in the far-off
East. And this was California.

CHAPTER XIX.

IT was toward the close of the seventh day
of their journey that Mildred, with her father
and mother, arrived in Oakland, on San Fran-
cisco Bay. At the Sixteenth Street station a
gentleman came into their car and, after speak-
ing to the conductor, walked up to where they
were sitting and said to Mildred's papa, Major
Fairleigh, I believe."
The. Major instantly sat up (for he had been
reclining with his head on a pillow) and, holding
out his hand, exclaimed, Why, Kenilworth! is
this you ? I 'm glad to see you. This is very
kind of you, indeed You received my letter,
then ? "
The gentleman returned the greeting and, at
the same time laying his hand gently on the
Major's shoulder, said, Don't disturb yourself,
Will. Yes, I received your letter just in time to
meet you."
Then Major Fairleigh said to his wife,
"Mary, you remember my cousin, John Kenil-
worth ?"
"I am glad to meet you once more, Mr.
Kenilworth," said Mrs. Fairleigh, giving him
her hand. "It is a long time since we have
seen each other."
Not since the war," he replied. "And this,
I presume," he continued, turning to Mildred,
"is the baby."
"Yes," said Mrs. Fairleigh, smiling, this is
the baby."
And Mildred, who had been shyly looking
at the stranger all this time,- this stranger who
had seemed so far away when he had sent her
oranges at Christmas-time,--came forward and


AND A BOY. 755
shook hands with him in acknowledgment of
the introduction.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with
dark hair and beard and dark eyes, and his
face was browned by the sun, all except a white
streak on his forehead where his hat shaded it.
He did not talk much, but when the little party
arrived at the Oakland mole, where they had to
change cars for the huge ferry-boat that was
to take them across the bay to San Francisco,
he quietly took. charge of everything. Mildred
particularly liked the way he helped her father,
just as though it was only because he was glad
to be with him again, and not because he really
needed assistance. Then, after he had seen her
father and mother comfortably seated in the
cabin, this new Cousin John took Mildred out
on deck and showed her the lights of San Fran-
cisco twinkling through the haze and smoke
on the opposite shore. He pointed out the
"Golden Gate," and a great steamship com-
ing in, which, he said, was the China steamer.
It made Mildred feel very far away from home
to.think that out there in the purple twilight
was the Pacific Ocean, and that close at hand
was a steamship that had just come from China.
The immense harbor was filled with odd-
looking ships,-foreign men-of-war, merchant-
men, quaint little fishing-boats with red sails,
great Chinese junks such as she remembered
having seen in her geography, and all sorts of
queer craft. Then, too, although the sun had
set, the sky and the water and the distant hills
were all softly colored and tinted; it was like a
picture, a strange though beautiful picture.
It did not take long to cross the bay, and
very soon they were rattling over the cobble-
stones of San Francisco, on their way to the
hotel. And here again Mildred found some-
thing to wonder at; for they drove through an
arched way and into a large courtyard; and in
this court were palm-trees, broad-leaved ba-
nanas and glossy, dark orange-trees, set around
in big, green boxes; while opening out upon the
court was a large dining-room, in which could
be seen ladies and gentlemen at dinner. Alto-
gether it was a cheerful sight for tired travelers.
Mr. Kenilworth had engaged rooms for them,
and they found the gas lighted and fires in the
grates, and great bowls of La France roses to






TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


greet them,-a true California welcome. When
Cousin John took his leave, his ears must have
burned, so many pleasant things were said of
him. Mildred, who, as has been before re-
marked, did not make friends quickly, espe-
cially sounded his praises. I think he is just
as nice as he can be she said.

K:- -,-.


"THE IMMENSE HARBOR WAS FILLED WITH ODD-LOOK


The next morning Major Fairleigh was so
worn out by his journey that he could not leave
his bed. Of course Mrs. Fairleigh was very
anxious about him, and when Mr. Kenilworth
came she asked him to deliver the letter of
introduction which Dr. Strong, their army-
surgeon in Washington, had given them to a
certain Dr. Merton who lived in San Fran-
cisco. Now this Dr. Merton was a physician
who was very well known, not only on the Pa-
cific coast but in the East as well, for his skill
and wisdom. In fact, Dr. Strong had said that


he knew of no one whose opinion of Major
Fairleigh's case he would rather have than Dr.
Merton's.
Naturally, then, Mrs. Fairleigh was eager to
meet this celebrated physician on whose words
so much depended. He arrived at last,-a ,
little gray-haired man with thoughtful eyes and
slim white hands. Mildred,
who had overheard from time
to time enough to impress her
with his importance, looked at
i him with awe as he passed
into her father's room, but
was rather disappointed that
l i he was not bigger.
'The doctor returned soon,
saying cheerfully that Major
S Fairleigh was more in need
of rest than of anything else
--'- at present, and that he would
F call again. He came the fol-
lowing morning and found the
patient better, and prescribed
a ride for the next day. They
all went on that ride, Cousin
John with his strong arms
and quiet manner helping the
Major. They drove through
the park and out to the beach,
where Mildred for the first
time saw the Pacific stretch-
ing away to the horizon, and
S beyond,- to the shores of
China and India, and the
S islands of the Southern Sea.
They stopped at the Cliff
House to rest, and, sitting on
:ING SHIPS.,
ING SH" the veranda which overhung
the surf, watched the seals swimming in the
water and writhing over the rocks, with' their
ceaseless yelping and barking. Then they drove
back through the park in the bright warm air
with the blue sky overhead, and green lawns
and gorgeous flowers around them -it was
very hard to believe that this was the month of
January.
Each day after this Major Fairleigh grew a
little better. At the end of a week the doctor
said that he was strong enough to go to the
southern part of the State, where he would not


756






TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


be confined to the hotel as he was in the city,
but could be out of doors all day long. Cousin
John wanted them to go home with him, prom-
ising them unlimited fresh air and all the com-
forts possible; but, unfortunately, his home was
in the north and the doctor did not think the
climate quite suitable.
Indeed," said the doctor, "if you could
take a sea voyage, to the Islands, that would
help you more than anything."
"I rather fancy a sea voyage, myself," said
the Major.
"Then by all means let us go," said Mrs.
Fairleigh.
"Well," said the doctor, "think it over."

CHAPTER XX.

THE morning following this discussion, Mil-
dred was sitting by the window watching the
stream of people and vehicles passing by on the
street below, and wishing that Leslie or Charlie
might be with her to see the strange sights.
The Chinese, or Chinamen," as every one
called them, especially amused her. She had
seen one or two Chinese before, on rare occa-
sions, at the legation in Washington; but here
in San Francisco they were so common that no
one noticed them. There were Chinese laundry-
men trotting along with big baskets of clothes















"THEY HAD STOPPED TO BUY A POMEGR
on their shoulders, and Chinese peddlers with
pairs of huge baskets slung to a pole across
their backs, and Chinese house-servants in white
blouses with their queues hanging down from
their shaven heads. And while Mildred was
looking out of the window she saw a Chinese


A


woman dressed in a loose gown of glossy black,
with wide sleeves, a pair of purple trousers tied
at the ankles, and on her feet dark Chinese
shoes with very thick white soles, so that she
had to shuffle along to keep them on. Her
face was painted and her black hair trussed out
with gold sticks. She held a child by the hand,
a walking bundle of crimson and yellow clothes,
with a gaudy round cap on its shaven little head,
and red paint on its cheeks. They had stopped
to buy a pomegranate from an Italian fruit-ven-
der, and Mildred was wishing that she might
see the funny little baby closer, when her mo-
ther came in and stood by her side.
Mrs. Fairleigh smiled when Mildred pointed
out the Chinese woman and child, but was evi-
dently thinking of something else. Presently
she said:
"Mildred, dear, how would you like to go
with Cousin John to his home in Arcata, for a
little while?"
With you and papa, Mama ? said Mildred,
looking up quickly.
No, dear," said her mother; "by yourself.
Papa has almost made up his mind to take a
sea voyage to the Hawaiian Islands," she con-
tinued. The doctor thinks that it is best, and
as we came out here to try and make papa
well, I am very anxious to do just as the doctor
says. Now, as we shall not be gone more than















NATE FROM AN ITALIAN FRUIT-VENDER."
two months, Cousin John has been kind enough
to ask us to let you visit him."
"Oh, Mama! said Mildred, looking up at
her mother, while the tears came slowly into her
eyes, "I don't want to do that I don't want
to go away from you! "





TWO GIRLS AND A BOY.


Don't you, dear ? said her mother, sitting
down by Mildred's side and putting her arms
around her; I was in hopes that perhaps you
would like to go. It is for so short a time; and
Cousin John has quite an affection for you, and
you like him so much, and he says that he will
do all that he. can to make it pleasant for you.
He has a ranch not very far from his home in
Arcata, and you can go there with him and
have a pony to ride, and see all the horses and
cows and sheep. His housekeeper, who is an
elderly relative of his, will take good care of
you.")
"But why can't I go with you and papa?"
asked Mildred. "I would so much rather."
"And I would much rather have you, dear,"
said her mother; "but it is a very expensive
trip, and we are spending a great deal of money;
more than we can afford. In fact, papa was
inclined to give up the idea of taking this sea
voyage on that account, but I told him that
I thought you would be willing to stay with
Cousin John, and persuaded him not to aban-
don the voyage; because, of course, your stay-
ing would make a great difference."
Mildred was silent for a few moments looking
out of the window, though she saw nothing
through the blur of tears; at last she said:
"Then papa wants me to stay ?"
"Papa says that you are to do as you like,"
said her mother.
There was another short silence, finally bro-
ken by Mildred's throwing her arms around her
mother's neck and bursting into tears.
Oh, Mama," she sobbed, "I can't! I don't
want to! Do let me go with you, please do,
Mama! "
"There, there, dear heart! said her mother,
laying her cheek against Mildred's head; "we
are not going to force you to stay. Come,
come, let us talk of it sensibly, and then if you
make up your mind that you would rather not
stay, why then you need not."
These assurances and sundry little caresses


gradually quieted Mildred, until, looking up
with an attempt at a smile through her tears,
she said apologetically:
"You know, Mama, that I never have been
away from you in all my life, and to have you
and papa go across the ocean and leave me
here all alone where I don't know anybody,
it-it-" and here the thought once more so
nearly overcame her that she had to stop and
swallow the lump in her throat before she could
add, "it made me cry."
Of course, sweetheart," said her mother,
consolingly; "I understand. And I am sure
that it is very natural that the idea should star-
tle you at first. But if I were you I would
think about it a little before I quite made up
my mind. And when you come to look at it
I don't think that you will find it such a very
dreadful thing. When I was your age I went
to boarding-school and was away from home
for five or six months at a time; and though I
cried at first, I soon got used to it. There are
times, you know, when we have to sacrifice our
own wishes for our own good, or the good of
others. That is what we call duty. And believe
me, dear, there is no satisfaction equal to that
which comes from having bravely done our
duty. I remember a certain little girl who used
to take great pride in hearing how her ancestors
in ancient times were gallant men and women
who did what they thought was right, no matter
what it cost them. And I remember, too, how
anxious that little girl was'lest she should never
have a chance to show how courageous she
could be in time of trial. Do you remember?"
Mildred nodded her head, but without look-
ing up.
And I told you then," continued her mother,
"that while perhaps opportunities to show hero-
ism in war or sudden danger were fortunately
rare, life was only too full of trials that needed a
brave heart. And these are the ones, overcome
alone and in silence, that are hardest to bear;
and victory over them deserves the most praise."


(To be continued.)











mE TROUT



TELL me, tell me, little trout,
Does your mother know you 're out- -
\' That you 're truant from your school,
Playing hookey in this pool ? \,'


As you .see, my little trout, /
I desire to draw you out.
In the brook noise so abounds
That I cannot catch your sounds.


(If that joke he do but see,
Any trout should tickled be.)
Would you take the point so fine,
If I dropped you just a line ?


-- Don't they teach it in these creeks
That when one above you speaks,
First, before a sole'replies,
It is meet that you should rise ?


Blithely, as becomes a trout
(I 'm not angling for a pout),
Quickly take things on the fly,
For I 've other fish to fry.


Thank you, thank you, little trout,
Schools are in but you are out:
School anid pool alike forgot-
S ---- II Is hli.:key-is it not?



.,, : ^vi^^^^^ ;^





























HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.

By CHARLES WILLIAM KENNEDY.
(Formerly Commander S. S. Germanic.")


A LONG trail of smoke issuing from the fun-
nel of a tender about a quarter of a mile off
attracted my attention, and I knew that my
passengers had left the landing-stage at Liver-
pool, and would very soon be on board the
steamer.
Leaving the wheel-house, where I happened
to be standing at the time, I hurried below to
the main-deck, and taking my station in a con-
venient place to receive them, I awaited their
coming.
The tender rapidly approached, and in a few
moments glided smoothly alongside. Ropes
were thrown to us, and after everything had
been made secure the gang-plank was run out,
and without further delay the passengers pro-
ceeded to come on board.
Among the first to appear was a family con-
sisting of a gentleman and his wife, five boys,
and two maids. The gentleman and lady saluted
me with a pleasant bow and smile, and I imme-
diately recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Quincy,
from Philadelphia. A few weeks before, they
had crossed with me from New York to Liver-
pool for the purpose of bringing home their five
sons, who for nearly two years had been living
in Germany.


I immediately went forward to receive and
greet them. After the usual salutations were
over, Mr. Quincy turned, and, waving his hand
in the direction of the lads, said in a tone of
fatherly pride:
"Captain, all these are my boys. William,
the eldest, George, Harry, Jack, and here is
our baby, Tom," taking hold of a little fellow
of about six years, who had shrunk back behind
one of his big brothers, and pulling him forward.
The faces of all wore a bright, intelligent
expression, and, as each one advanced and ex-
tended his hand to me in an easy, gentlemanly
manner, I saw at a glance that they were boys
of whom any parents might be proud.
After a few words of conversation, the family
left me, going aft to their rooms.
For the first three days the weather was wet
and disagreeable; so much so that I saw but
little of the passengers, and that only at meals.
Even then very few were able to appear at the
table. The saloon seemed almost deserted.
On the morning of the fourth day the sun
came out, and the weather was glorious.
Steamer-chairs appeared in all directions, and
very soonf after breakfast each had its occu-
pant. The deck was full of life and animation.






HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.


Ladies and gentlemen were walking about,
children were running this way and that, fol-
lowed by their nurses, and all enjoying the first
fine day we had had since leaving Liverpool.
I had come out of my chart-room and was
standing forward under the bridge, taking a
look at the horizon, when I felt a slight tug
from behind, and at the same moment heard a
clear, boyish shout, Captain! Captain!"
What do you want with me ?" I exclaimed,
turning quickly round to see who was at the end
of my coat-tail.
There stood the two youngest members of
the Quincy family, Jack and Tom, their faces
shining with eagerness and their eyes flashing
with excitement as they fastened them intently
on me.
Say, Captain, may Tom and I go up on the
bridge ? asked Jack.
"Oh! it 's you, is it, boys ?" said I, recog-
nizing them at once. "Do you think you
little fellows can take care of yourselves alone?
It 's pretty rough this morning," I continued,
somewhat sternly, and purposely evading their
question.
"Oh, yes; I can take care of myself and
Tom, too!" replied Jack, as if he had been
to sea all his life. "But may we, Captain?"
he added, not in the least abashed or dis-
heartened.
"Humph!" I ejaculated; "I don't suppose
either of you boys knows how to read! Do
you ?" looking from one to the other.
"Why, of course, I can read," replied Jack,
a little indignantly. "What made you think
I could n't ?"
"Come with me, and you shall soon find
out."
Giving a hand to each boy, I led them to the
wheel-house, and pointed out to them the notice
posted at the foot of the ladder.
Now let me hear you read that," said I to
Jack, as I lifted him up that he might see
more plainly.
Very slowly and carefully he read the fol-
lowing words, Passengers are not allowed on
the bridge."
Oh!" exclaimed both the little fellows in
a tone of great disappointment, as I set Jack
again on his feet.


A shadow of deep despair settled upon their
round faces, as they saw their happy anticipa-
tions rapidly vanishing.
"But we are such little passengers!" said
Tom, looking wistfully up to me.
How was it possible to resist such an argu-
ment as that! I could n't do it. Stooping
down and lowering my voice to a confidential
tone, I said:
"Now, boys, if I take you on the bridge
you must keep it a profound secret; for, if I
took up there all the little boys who cross the
ocean with me, I should n't have any time to
look after my ship, you know."
The clouds disappeared, and the sun shone
out even brighter than before, as both prom-
ised faithfully that they would not "tell."
"Only papa and mama; we may tell them,
Captain ?" eagerly exclaimed Tom.
"Oh, yes; never keep anything from your
father and mother, if you want to be good
boys," I replied.
Bidding them wait for a moment, I went into
the chart-room to make a memorandum. I
heard their voices under the port, and now and
then a suppressed little laugh, as they stood
waiting for me. As soon as I had finished my
work I went out and met them.
Just opposite the wheel-house door I hesi-
tated a moment. There was quite a sea on,
and I feared that it was too much for the little
fellows. They were standing very quietly by
my side, watching my every movement, and
actually trembling with delight. I could not
make up my mind to disappoint them a second
time, and so decided to gratify them.
Taking Tom in my arms, I carried him half-
way up the ladder, and, setting him down, told
him to cling to the rail and go ahead. Then I
went down for Jack. He did not require any
assistance, but ran nimbly up by himself, I fol-
lowing closely behind.
From our post of observation, the great
steamer could be seen her entire length from
bow to stern. Masts and rigging stood out in
bold relief, while the huge smoke-stacks, send-
ing out thick columns of smoke, seemed higher
and bigger than ever before.
Not a word escaped the lips of the two boys,
as they gazed fore and aft, above and below.






HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.


They seemed to be struck dumb by the novelty
of the scene.
Turning around, they looked toward the
horizon. As far as the eye could reach not a
sail was to be seen. Nothing lay before them
but the great ocean and our own vessel.
"Hold on tight, or .you '11 get something
you won't like," cautioned I, as the ship gave
a lurch and the boys staggered to one side.
"Oh, it 's nice up here; it 's fun!" said
Tom at last, catching his breath as he spoke.
"I wish I could stay here all day with you,
Captain."
"So do I," echoed Jack.
"You would n't, if a big wave should come
and wet you all over, and perhaps carry you
off," I replied, smiling at their enthusiasm.
Just then a heavy sea broke against the ship,
covering her with spray, and giving the two
boys a taste of what they might expect if they
remained "all day," as Tom said.
Little Tom's face turned white; whether from
fright or seasickness I could not quite decide.
Taking him again in my arms, I told the boys
that we would better go, on deck, where it was
safer, and bade Jack follow me, which he did,
clinging more tightly to the rail than before.
When the boys found themselves safe on
their feet, they turned and with shining faces
thanked me for taking them on the bridge
"where the big passengers could n't go "; and
then ran away as fast as their little legs and the
motion of the ship would allow, to tell their
father and mother, as Tom had before suggested.
A day or two. after this little event, I stood
near the wheel-house door enjoying a quiet
smoke, when I heard a loud clattering of boy-
ish feet along the deck. Looking aft I saw
Tom and Jack rushing toward me in a state of
great excitement.
Oh, Captain!" shouted both together be-
fore they had fairly reached me. "There 's a
steamer ahead of us, and we are going by her
pretty soon !"
Is there ? I inquired taking my pipe from
my mouth and putting it away. "We '11 go
and have a look at her."
The usual commotion caused by the appear-
ance of a strange vessel on the voyage was
already apparent among the passengers on deck,


and the very same old questions were being
asked one of another: "What steamer is it ?"
" Where is she bound ? "What line does she
belong to ?"
Going into the chart-room, I took my glass
from its place, and, followed.by the boys, who
were close behind, went out and stood under
the end of the bridge. Raising the glass to my
eyes, I scrutinized her closely, trying to make
her out.
"What steamer is it, Captain? Can you
see ?" asked Jack, standing on the tips of his
toes and peering over the rail, while Tom was
steadying himself by clinging to my coat.
From the end of the gaff four flags were fly-
ing in the wind, and I saw that she wished to
communicate with us.
Let 's go and find out, boys," I replied,
putting my glass in my pocket. She is telling
us who she is, and she wants us to do something
for her."
"Telling us who she is!" echoed Jack, a
slight tone of contempt in his voice. Ships
can't talk, Captain! "
Can't they ? said I. "Don't be so sure,
my boy! Ships can make their wants known as
well as you and Tom can. Deaf-and-dumb
people don't talk, but for all that they have a
language of their own; and so do ships."
But how do they do it ? How is it ? asked
Jack eagerly, looking up into my face to see if
I was really in earnest.
"We '11 soon know all about it if we go aft,
on the -whaleback," said I, hurrying along in
that direction, the boys jumping and running
by my side.
"The whaleback! exclaimed Jack, opening
his bright black eyes at the mention of this
hitherto unknown part of the ship. "Why,
what 's that, Captain? Where is it ?"
Come along with me, and you '11 see," I
answered, smiling at the two eager faces up-
turned to mine. I shall make good sailors of
you youngsters yet before we get to New York."
The boys laughed, and Jack ran on ahead.
"Look out Hold fast to the rail and don't
fall off!" I called out to the lad, as he stepped
on the narrow foot-bridge leading from the
saloon-deck to the one beyond.
"I won't fall!" he shouted, allowing his






HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.


hand to slide smoothly along the rail as he ran
swiftly across.
Little Tom clung to me as I led him safely
over. Picking our way carefully among coils
of rope and other sailing-gear, we were soon
standing on the extreme end of the stern where
the officer was signaling.
Here we are, boys, on the whaleback,"
said I "but never mind that now. We must
look sharp if we want to find out what the
steamer is saying."
We had by this time nearly overtaken the
stranger, and could plainly distinguish her sig-
nals as they floated from the peak.
Do you see those four flags flying from the
gaff-end ?" said I to Jack.
"Yes, sir; I see the flags, but I don't know
where the gaff-end is," replied the little fellow,
standing on tiptoe to obtain a better view.
Never mind, if you only see the flags," said
I. "That 's the principal thing. Now, look
closely, and you will see that they are fastened
on a rope, one below the other, and that no
two are alike. Each one of those flags repre-
sents a letter-just the same as when you are
reading a book, you know that A is A, and
B is B. There are four, and we must read
from the top downward. Keep still, Tom.
Don't cling to me, for I can't steady my glass
if you do."
Tom immediately released his hold, and I
turned my attention to the signals.
Looking steadily at the flags, I saw what
letters they represented, and read them aloud
to the boys.
"They are J, Q, H, V. Now, we must look
in the signal-book to find out what steamer has
that signal given to her. We cannot stop now,
for she is going to say something else to us,
and we can find out the name afterward."
"Oh, Captain!" shouted Tom, "there go
some flags up on our ship! What are they
for ? "
"Those are our letters, and will tell her who
we are. They are N, V, B, Q," I replied.
"They have drawn down those on the other
steamer, and are running up some more," ex-
claimed Jack, dancing about in great excite-
ment.
Yes; now they are going to ask us a ques-


tion, and we must look carefully, and not make
any blunders," said I, raising my glass to my
eyes as I spoke.
"There are only three flags this time, Cap-
tain. What does that mean ?" asked Jack,
turning around and watching me closely.
In a moment I will tell you," said I, exam-
ining the signals carefully. They are P, D, S.
Now, my officer who is signaling will know
just what that means. Yes, he has hauled
down the ship's letters and run up his reply.
That is a long, pointed flag, called a pennant,
and means, Yes, I will.'"
There is another flag all by itself, and they
are pulling it up and down on the rope. What
is that for, Captain?" shouted Tom, still watch-
ing the strange steamer.
That flag is the ensign; and by lowering
and raising it they are saying, I have no more
to ask. Thank you very much. Good-by.' "
Does it mean all that ?" cried Jack, open-
ing wide his large black eyes.
It means all that," I answered, laughing at
the expression of amazement on the boys' faces.
The steamer being now some distance astern,
the signals were hauled down and put away.
Now, boys," said I, come with me to the
chart-room, and I will show you the signal-
book. We shall find out there all we want to
know."
In the gayest spirits, both boys left me and
ran ahead.
As we approached the wheel-house I saw the
two elder brothers of Jack and Tom standing
near the door, watching the steamer now almost
out of sight.
"Oh, Will!" shouted Jack to the elder of the
two, a lad of about seventeen, "the Captain
is going to show us the signal-book, and tell us
all about the signals."
"Is that so ?" said Will, turning round and
smiling.
Thinking that the subject might be inter-
esting to the larger as well as to the smaller
boys, I invited the lads to come in also; which
invitation they both accepted with evident
pleasure.
Sitting down on a camp-stool, I took out my
signal-book and laid it on the desk. Jack stood
on one side of me, Tom on the other, both






HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.


leaning on their elbows; while the two elder
boys sat on the sofa at my left, where they also
could easily see.
Opening the book, I turned to the list of
registered vessels, comprising nearly seventeen
thousand, each having her own allotted signal,


-" i-







K-~f ---

-r2r


-t--=;t-


SIGNALING AT SEA.
and soon ascertained to what ship the letters
J, Q, H, V belonged.
"That ship, boys," said I, "is the 'Tyne-
mouth Castle,' and she is from North Shields,
England." Then, referring to the code, I found
that the letters P, D, S signified, "Report me to
Lloyd's Agent," and explained that this meant,
" Report passing me to the New York agent in
charge of such matters."


"I suppose, Captain," said Will Quincy,
"that the code is similar to those used in
cabling; is n't it ?"
Yes, with the exception that the letters used
in signaling do not form words, being all con-
sonants. In cabling, certain words are adopted,


-II

- A'- ,..


each bearing the sig-
nification of a long
sentence; whereas in
signaling the combi-
nation is of two, three,
and four consonants,
making it impossible
to spell a word. Why
this is so, I cannot tell.
You will see, by look-
ing over the signal-
book, what a long
code has been ar-
ranged. Almost any
question you 'd think
of can be asked and
answered. We can
notify a vessel within
signaling distance that
we are sinking; or, we
can invite the captain
to come and take din-
ner with us; just as we
happen to feel."
The boys were
laughing at this when
George interrupted
them. "Captain,"said
he, how is it done at
night ? Flags cannot
be seen in the dark."
"No; you are right,"
I replied. "When a
ship is in danger,
rockets are used at


night, and bonfires also are kindled, so that the
attention of a passing vessel is attracted by the
light. Then the latter throws up certain rockets
which indicate that assistance will be sent as
soon as possible."
"When you have once learned the flags, it
is n't so very difficult after all; is it, Captain? "
said Will, smiling.
It is like everything else, my lad," said I,






HOW SHIPS TALK TO EACH OTHER.


A FEW OF THE SIGNALS USED AT SEA.
closing the book of signals and putting it won't ever say after this that ships can't talk,
away, "It all seems to be very easy after you will you?"
once know it." No, indeed, Captain," said the little fellow,
Now, Jack," I continued, as the boys rose earnestly. "But I did n't know any better
from their seats, and prepared to leave, "you then, you know, and now I do."









"WHAT NEWS? "-IN MID-OCEAN.


By H. D. SMITH.
(Captain U. S. Revenue Cutter Service.)


SIGHTING a vessel at sea is always an event
carrying with it a certain amount of interest,
curiosity, and excitement, shared alike by the
grave officer and the careless boy or apprentice.
The little speck silhouetted against the clear-
cut horizon, gradually assuming shape and
familiar proportions, with an occasional gleam
of snow-white canvas glinting in the sun's rays,
rivets the attention of all hands, breaks the dull
monotony of a long voyage and awakens tender
yearnings and longings for news from home.
No incident of the sea voyage is more inter-
esting than that of the meeting of ships and
their conversation with signals. No prettier
marine picture may be found than two vessels
covered with spotless canvas towering aloft,
swelling majestically to the favoring gale,
passing each other on opposite tacks, with
numerous gaily colored and oddly shaped flags
fluttering from the masthead.
An exciting incident of signaling at sea was
experienced by the writer when making a
homeward-bound voyage on one of the far-
famed "tea-clippers."
The ship had touched at Anjer Point for
the purpose of replenishing the stock of fresh
provisions; and the news received at that
trading-place was startling, to say the least,
and evidently had considerable effect upon
the "old man," who thoughtfully paced the
deck. The captain of a merchant vessel is
always called the old man," though he may
be the youngest man on board.
Our commander had good reason for reflec-
tion over the news he had received. He was
in command of one the finest vessels afloat, a
craft of over 2000 tons burden, and with a
cargo of tea and silk under her hatches valued
at more than $250,000; the clipper herself must
have been worth a small fortune.
On shore, beneath the wide-spreading
branches of the celebrated banyan tree, where
Armenians, Chinese, Japanese, Malays, Hin-


doos, Persians, Tatars, Bornese, Sumatrans,
Javanese, and Europeans jostled one another,
our captain had learned that the dreaded "Ala-
bama" was already in the China Sea, and
had left her mark as she swept onward in quest
of peaceful and defenseless merchant ves-
sels. The fine ships "Amanda," Contest,"
and Winged Racer" had fallen victims to
Semmes and his crew. There was no telling
where the slippery cruiser might turn up next.
Give me a cracking breeze," remarked the
captain to his chief mate, as he glanced proudly
at the lofty and tapering spars of his gallant
craft, and I '11 bid defiance to all the Con-
federate crafts afloat! I can't remain here.
Every day lost is so many dollars out of the
owner's pockets. Hit or miss, I shall make a
break for the Cape, and I have faith enough
in the clipper to believe her good luck will
stand by her."
The, captain's will was law, and half an hour
afterward the ship, under a cloud of canvas,
was skimming over the surface of the water,
with the highlands of Sumatra rapidly blend-
ing into the roseate hues of a gorgeous sunset.
The run to the Cape, the haunt of the Fly-
ing Dutchman," was quickly made, and there
was little rest for officers or crew. A vigilant
lookout was constantly maintained from aloft.
Braces and bowlines, tacks and sheets, were
constantly under the surveillance of the officer
of the watch, while the "old man" might
be seen pacing the deck tt all hours, night
and day.
Early one morning the mate was startled by
the cry from aloft, Black smoke ahead, sir!
A big steamer standing to the southward."
The captain was called, and in a trice bounced
on deck, where, applying the glass to his eye,
he took a long look at the stranger who had
pushed so suddenly out of the early mist hang-
ing low upon the horizon.
Whatever her character, we had but little






"WHAT NEWS? "-IN MID-OCEAN.


chance of escape, if she had rifled guns. Many
a glance of apprehension was directed toward the
somber hull and pair of sloping smoke-stacks
with the twisting smoke trending far astern.
Show him our colors, sir! Bend on the
ensign; we may as well be hung for a sheep as
a lamb. If that fellow is a rebel, the sooner
we know it the better! exclaimed the cap-
tain somewhat excitedly to the mate.
It was close upon six bells (seven o'clock)
when the steamer revealed her nationality.
We fairly yelled as the blood-red cross of St.
George danced up aloft from the steamer's sig-
nal-halyards. She was evidently a troop-ship
bound for the Cape, a trifle out of her course,
but we did not stop to consider that.
She was too far distant to speak, but in obe-
dience to a gesture from the captain, the mate
emptied a bag of gaily colored signals on deck;
and the boys were called aft to man the hal-
yards and lend a hand to bend on the magic
flags. Upward fluttered the party-colored bits
of bunting, glasses were leveled, and breathless
expectancy marked the sunburnt features of
the clipper's crew; for the inquiry flying from
our mizzenroyalmast was, "What news of the
American War?"
The flash of foam cast up by the huge pro-
peller greeted our straining vision, the great
steamer glided onward, but no responsive sig-
nals gladdened the anxious hearts of those
yearning to hear news from home.
With a passionate exclamation of disappoint-
ment the captain closed the joints of his long
glass with a savage snap, saying, as he turned
away, He has n't our code. It's no use."
"Look at that!" suddenly exclaimed the
mate, pointing. "What is he going to do?"
He is coming about," shouted the captain,
his bronzed features fairly paling. Can it be
possible he has played us a trick, and is the
Alabama ? Stand by, all hands, for "
A deep blast of the steam-whistle rumbled
over the flashing waters, followed by a number
of quick toots as the steamer ranged to leeward;
then an expanse of white canvas was lowered
over the side.


Glasses were directed upon that bright patch
amidships, upon.which dark lines could be dis-
cerned with the naked eye. The glass showed
these were letters.
"I have it!" shouted the captain, leaping
excitedly into the rigging. "Spread the news
fore and aft! It says, 'The American con-
flict is over! Davis a fugitive'-and what's
that? Heavens, no -yes--'Lincoln is killed!'
"Strike the colors half-mast, sir," continued
the captain to the mate, in a subdued tone.
Then he added, "Hoist the signal,' Thank you,'
to the steamer."
At that moment the rich, full tones of a
regimental band were wafted across the heav-
ing swells, and many an eye glistened with
emotion as the well-known strains of "Hail
Columbia" were faintly heard. The steamer
slowly fell off, and resumed her course, while,
as if actuated by one impulse, officers and men
sprang into the weather-rigging, giving three
times three and waving their hats in return for
the kindness of the courteous Englishman.
The Stars and Stripes were dipped three times,
the hoarse whistle rang out in return, the
Meteor flag" slowly and majestically re-
turned the salute, and the greeting in mid-
ocean was over.
"The commander of that craft is a gentle-
man-every inch of him! was the admiring
remark of the mate as he glanced astern at
the fast-fading troop-ship.
"We are brothers after all," answered the
captain, "and have the same customs and
speak the same language. It strengthens one's
faith in human nature, an act like that. But
the President- can it be?" and shaking his
head mournfully, he turned and went below.
There was deep mourning throughout the
ship, for our delight in victory and peace was
at first overcome by the sorrowful tidings of
the death of the beloved President. There
was no other news until we hove to for a
pilot off Barnegat, and he brought a file of
papers which gave us full news of the sur-
render at Appomattox, and told how the great
Lincoln had been assassinated.








''C.


A FISHING TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


By JOHN WHITEHEAD.


WO brothers, one twelve and the
other fourteen years old, sat one
afternoon in their room in a house
in New York city. The younger
Swas reading, the elder was disen-
tangling some snarled fishing-lines. No states-
man unraveling some knotty problem of state-
craft could have frowned more fiercely, or have
busied himself more devotedly.
When he had cleared the tangle he looked
up at his younger brother, and, after a sigh of
relief, said:
"I say, Jack, let's go fishing! "
"A first-rate idea! But where shall we go ?"
"Well, I 've thought of asking mother to let
us go with Uncle John on one of his trips to
Barnegat Bay. He's down-stairs now. It can't
do any harm to try it. Let 's go and settle it
right away."
Down they ran, like the mouse when the
clock struck one.
They found their uncle John talking with
their mother in the sitting-room. The mother's
cheerful and pleasant expression seemed habit-
ual, and proved that she was'happy in her home
and proud of her boys. Her face brightened
as they came in.
Jack spoke at once:
Oh, Uncle John, we 're so glad you are


here! We 've been talking of a splendid plan,
but we need your help, Will you promise to
give it ? "
Not quite so fast, youngster," replied their
uncle. He had a rather stern expression, was
black-browed, and wore a full beard. But for-
bidding as he might seem to strangers, it was
evident, as he glanced at the bright faces of his
nephews, that it would require little coaxing to
enlist his sympathy and aid in any reasonable
plan they might propose.
Come, Jack," said he, I see that Will also
has something to say. As he is the elder,
let him tell me the plan to which I am at once
to say yes."
"Well, Uncle," said Will, "you have often
told us of your fishing-excursions in Barnegat
Bay, and this morning we were talking them
over, and Jack said now that school was ended,
and we had both done well,-you said so your-
self,-you might be willing to take us with you
to your famous fishing-grounds."
Both boys looked at their mother, evidently
fearing that she might oppose the plan. She
seemed to avoid their questioning eyes, and,
repressing a smile, waited for their uncle's
reply.
He pretended to be very stern.
You imagine, then, because it is your vaca-






A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


tion, that I have nothing to do ? Do you know
what your 'few days' means? Do you think I
can abandon my business, engage old Captain
John, and ruin myself in buying fishing-tackle
and provisions for two hungry boys with appe-
tites sharpened by the salt air ? You must think
that money grows on trees I"
Uncle John, with a smile to their mother,
continued: Well, what do you say to this ab-
surd idea ? Do you think I should be burdened
with them during my holiday? and would you
be willing to intrust two such madcaps to me
for a few days ? "
Now it so happened that she and Uncle John
had been discussing the very plan that was now
independently proposed by the boys.
Indeed," said she, seriously, the boys have
fairly earned a good vacation by their last term's
work. Perhaps during the hot summer days a
trip on the salt water, with the excitement of
fishing and your good care, would bring them
back better able to stand the depressing heat of
the summer."
"Suppose they fall overboard, run fish-hooks
through their fingers, or otherwise disport them-
selves so that I can return to you only two
dilapidated remnants of the boys I took away,
will you agree to forgive me ? "
Jack saw signs of success in this last speech,
and burst in:
"Oh! take, us this once, Uncle John; we
won't give you any trouble; we '11 be as good
as kittens. We always keep our promises;
mother will tell you so! "
"'Always' is a long word, my dear," said their
mother, playfully.
Now, Mother," said Will, jumping up, "let
bygones be bygones. If you only say so, I 'm
sure Uncle John will take us!" and he went
and stood by her side. She put her arm around
him, saying:
"Well, John, what do you say?"
"I suppose I must. It will be a great trial
to my nerves" (the boys laughed at the idea
of Uncle John having any nerves), "but it is
good discipline." Then, after an exaggerated
sigh, he said:
When shall we go, boys ?"
To-morrow, of course!" said Jack, excitedly.
"To-morrow, you young rascal why, I
VOL. XIX.-49.


have got to see Captain John Anderson and
secure him and his boat."
"Write out a telegram and I '11 go down to
the office and send it," said the younger boy.
"That 's business," said Uncle John; "and
as I suppose I am in for it, I may as well begin
at once; so here goes! "
Sitting down, he wrote the telegram, which
the boys eagerly seized and they were starting
off with it when their uncle called out:
Hold on! One of you go, the other must
stay behind; we've something else to do besides
sending telegrams."
So off started Jack with the precious paper,
and Uncle John turned to Will.
"What lines and hooks have you ?"
"Why, you told us that Captain John pro-
vided all the tackle."
You 're right, boy, so he does, so he does.
But then, where are the provisions?" said their
uncle, with pretended anxiety.
"But," said Will, "I have you there again,
Uncle; you said Captain John provided all the
eatables, cooked the meals himself, and that he
gave you pretty good fare, considering every-
thing.' "
"So he does," said the uncle, again convicted
out of his own mouth.
So it was settled, and the boys anxiously
awaited the reply from Point Pleasant, where
Captain John lived.
In the afternoon it came, and, to the delight
of the boys,-the captain answered that he would
be ready at any time. Neither Will nor Jack
knew what was in the message sent by their
uncle, but the truth is that he and Captain
John had already had some correspondence
and fully understood each other. The uncle
announced by his telegram simply that he and
his nephews would be on hand the next morn-
ing by the earliest train.
Bright and early the boys were ready; and
when Uncle John put in his appearance two
more joyous youths could not be found in the
great city of New York. Uncle John was an
especial favorite of theirs; they had tried him
many times, and he had never been found
wanting.
It was a bright and beautiful day in June.
They made their way down the city, reached





A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


the slip, and were soon on board the good
steamer, "Jesse Hoyt"' It is quite uncer-
tain which was the happier of the group of
three, the uncle or the two boys. Jack was the
noisiest, for Will expressed his pleasure only
by his sparkling eyes and heightened color,
and an occasional burst of enthusiasm; the
uncle had little to say. He was proud of his
nephews and did not hesitate to show his
pride; his eyes rested on them lovingly and
admiringly.
The time was so pleasantly occupied by
their uncle's cheerful, interesting conversation,
that they were quite astonished when they ap-
proached Sandy Hook, and were told that here
they were to land and to proceed by rail for the
rest of their trip until they met Captain John.
They had never been on this route and
everything was new to them. At Sandy Hook
they took the cars which were there ready to
receive passengers. As they sped along their
eyes opened wider and wider at the new scenes:
the ocean spreading out before them, the houses
upon the beach with their surroundings of fresh
green grass, shrubs, trees, and flowers springing
apparently from the dry sand; Shrewsbury River,
upon which floated pleasure-boats with their
white sails and gay-parties; and Seabright, with
its group of quaint fishermen's huts, clustered
together, apparently without order.
As they approached Long Branch their ad-
miration gave place to wonder. But little time-
was given them to view these various objects,
as they passed so rapidly. When they reached
Elberon their uncle pointed out to them the
house occupied by President Garfield during
his last illness. Indeed, he did not fail to direct
their attention to every object of interest.
Bayhead was gained at last, and as they
neared the platform Uncle John looked for
the captain. When the train stopped, the trio
sprang to the ground; and there stood a tall,
gaunt, rough-bearded man, seamed and grizzled
by the hardships of many years' exposure on
the salt water. But in his face there lingered
the kindest expression, and out of his deep-
sunk eyes there beamed the good nature of the
warmest of hearts. Uncle John at once ex-
tended his hand and said:
"Well, Captain, here we are; here are these


boys of mine. Do you think we can give them
a ducking before we get through with them ? "
The captain was a man of few words, but
those who knew him would have known from
his glance at them that he had taken the young-
sters under his particular care.
"Well," he said, "your telegram gave me
short notice; yet I think I have made all the ne-
cessary arrangements. Come along; let 's see."
So they gathered up their baggage and left
the platform, the rough captain leading the
way. He and Uncle John walked demurely on,
chatting about old times, but the boys were too
full of life to repress themselves. They looked
around, however, to take their bearings, as the
captain would have said, and saw upon the
east side of the railroad track a collection of
houses, modem and tasteful in their architec-
ture. The boys wished to know who lived in
these pleasant dwellings, and were told that
Bayhead was a resort for literary people, and
that several professors of Princeton College
lived there during the summer.
As the party passed toward the boat which
was to take them out to the ".KFate," the boys
noticed that Bayhead was situated at the head
of a narrow, irregular strip of sand stretching
southward as far as the eye could reach between
the bay and the ocean. The bay began at that
point, and extended to the south toward Cape
May. Indeed the captain said that at one time
he himself had sailed, in a little catboat which
he owned, almost to Cape May; the bay was
an open sheet of water as far as the Great
Inlet; below it was much broken up with com-
paratively large islands, but even then it could
be navigated by small vessels.
Captain, is the water salt ? Will asked.
"Why, of course."
"Well, how does the salt water get there ?"
"From the Atlantic through Barnegat Inlet."
While the captain had been talking with the
boys, the whole party had stopped; but now
they began to walk toward the water. A small
boat lay rocking by the edge of the bank,
and the captain rowed them out to the Kate,
which was anchored a little distance from the
shore. The boys quickly sprang on board, and
soon began a thorough examination of what
was to be their home for several days. They


770






A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


found it. to be a schooner of recent make,
comfortable in all its appointments, and fitted
up so that it could pleasantly accommodate
eight to ten passengers. What pleased the
boys more than anything else about it was the
tiny kitchen, wherein was a stove in full blast,
with pots and pans and all the implements ne-
cessary for cooking a dinner. But the boys
were impatient to be off; the sight of the rods
and tackle which lay on the deck increased
their impatience to be on the fishing-ground.


guided by that. But I have no great necessity
to notice landmarks, for I have traveled over
this bay so often that I know all the ins and
outs of the course, crooked as it is."
Just at this moment a lad suddenly emerged
from the cabin, the captain went below, and
the small boy took the captain's place. Soon
an appetizing odor made its way from the
cabin; and then the kindly face of the captain
showed itself and he announced in the briefest
manner possible: "Dinner!"


. -~--f ~ -- _~~-J A-


"J^,. -* "~ *'^~ ---' --
_S SS .. .;.... -.* -_' .

"-"- .- i' ," ,, %-'-- --
.T- -. ''--

_ _I A K N F- T A-T -
... ---i -
-I..



4i-' >


EMBARKING FOR 1THE "RATE.'"


The captain weighed anchor, set his sails, and
the vessel was soon gliding down the bay. So
much attention had been paid in the building
of the Kate to the comfort of the passengers
that her speed was not great; but the boys
were delighted with the gentle motion.
How do you tell where the channel runs,
captain ?"
Well, I tell that in different ways; sometimes
I take an object which I know to be in a certain
position with reference to the channel, and I am


The boys' appetites had been increased by
the salt-water breezes, so they joyfully heard
this pithy speech of the captain. Jack called
out to his uncle, who was in the bow of the
boat:
"Uncle John, dinner is ready and we 're
hungry!"
The uncle had been standing for a long time
motionless, with his arms folded, looking into
the water and watching the gliding of the
Kate. He started at the sound of the boy's






A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


voice, rejoined his nephews, and together they
passed down into the cabin. Uncle John was
obliged to bend his head, but the boys got
in without any difficulty. They had wondered
where the table was to come from, and where
it was to be set. They found a perfect dinner-
table extended from the center of the cabin,
formed by- the raising of two swinging leaves,
which had before rested quietly against a small
partition which divided the cabin, but was
only two or three feet high from the floor.
On this table was spread the dinner. It was
well served and well cooked, and the boys
found it excellent. It was mostly sea-food;
fish, oysters, and clams being the principal
dishes. At one end of the table was a large
piece of corned beef. The boys instantly de-
termined that they would have none of that.
They knew that the fish and shell-fish must
be fresh from the water, and that they must be
good; and they were good. Such fish, such
oysters, such clams, they had never tasted before.
The captain had stood high in their estimation,
but now he was raised a point higher, and they
regarded him as the very paragon of skippers.
To their complete astonishment, after the sub-
stantials were disposed of, the captain brought
on pudding and pie; and, to cap the climax,
gave them some good coffee. They thought
that if they were to be treated in this manner
every day, their cup of happiness would be
brimming over. It was almost too-much for
Jack. Several times he was half inclined to
rush out- on deck to give three cheers for Cap-
tain John.
After the dinner was over, the captain re-
sumed his place at the tiller, and the small
boy took his place in the cabin, to eat his din-
ner and afterward to clear away the dishes. If
the supply of eatables had not been bountiful
and the boys merciful, it is somewhat doubt-
ful whether the cabin-boy might not have gone
hungry. Then the captain took his pipe and
began to smoke, and the boys seated themselves,
one on each side of him, and begged hard for
some story of his experience. The captain was
not much of a hand at story-telling; still, he
managed to thrill their young hearts with one
story in particular of how he had been ship-
wrecked, and cast on a barren island with


three others. They were forced to sustain them-
selves upon such raw shell-fish as were thrown
upon the shore by the waves. The boys no-
ticed, however, that the captain did not seem to
have his mind much set on the story-telling, but
every now and then kept peering around him on
both sides of his boat. All at once he brought
the Kate round with a sharp turn, picked up
the anchor, and threw it overboard. The boys
opened wide their eyes, and wondered what was
coming next. The captain lowered the sails
half-way down the mast, stepped quietly up on
the deck, selected some rods, then returned,
and opened what seemed to be a trap-door
nght under where his feet came when he sat
at the tiller, and took out some crabs. Jack,
as usual, was in search of information. He had
never seen such crabs before, and so he began
to ply the captain with questions. He wanted
to know what kind of crabs those were.
These are what we call 'shedders,'" said
the captain, and they are used for bait. You
will see presently how we use them."
Now, my boy," said the captain, addressing
Jack, "you seem to be the one in this party
most anxious to do some fishing. You take that
rod and throw the hook over on this side of the
boat. Be careful to keep your hook a few inches
from the bottom, and see what will come."
Jack was only too ready, and over went his
line in short order into the water. It was not
long before he had a bite, and with a great deal
more force than was necessary he threw his
hook, line, and fish up in the air. There, over
the sail, hung dangling the oddest fish that Jack
had ever seen. What it was he did not know;
it was of a dirty yellow color, with a head and
mouth a great deal larger than the rest of his
body, which was slimy and disgusting, and tap-
ered rapidly to the tail. Jack stood with mouth
and eyes wide open, looking at his prize, and
thinking that if this was the kind of fish Uncle
John caught in Barnegat Bay,-the kind over
which he had so often gone into ecstasies of
delight,- he did not care for any more of them.
Uncle John, seeing Jack's disgust, could not
help a burst of laughter.
"Well, Jack," said he, "you 've got him
now!" Will, who was as much disgusted as
his brother, stood staring at the unlucky fish






A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


until roused from his amazement by the hearty
laugh of Uncle John.
Captain John," said Jack, will you please
tell me what that is ? "
Why, that's a toad-fish; or oyster-fish, some
people call it."
Is this the sort of fish you catch in Barne-
gat Bay ?"
Oh, yes!" said Captain John; lots of'em."


"Come," said Uncle John, and look at my
fish; and, Captain, you take Jack's fish off his
hook and bring it here, and we '11 examine the
two side by side."
Detaching his fish from the hook, Uncle John
laid it upon the deck. The captain brought
Jack's line down from the sail, took the fish
from the hook, and laid it beside the beautiful
one that Uncle John had just caught.


r-
A c-


ON THE FISHING-GROUNDS.


Jack turned to his uncle with an inquiry on
his open lips; but just then his uncle felt a
tug at his line, and up he pulled, deftly and
quickly, a beautiful shining fish radiant with
almost all the colors of the rainbow. "What
a monster! thought Jack; and, forgetting his
toad-fish, he rushed forward to his uncle to
examine this beautiful prize. There it lay,
beating the hard board with head and tail,
gasping for air, its life fast ebbing away.


"Now, this fish of yours, Jack," said the
uncle, "is not only called the toad-fish and the
oyster-fish, but, sometimes, the grunting toad-
fish. There are species of it found all over the
world, but this is the regular American toad-fish.
"This fish of mine is called the weakfish.
Notice its beautiful colors, brownish blue on its
back, with irregular brown spots, the sides sil-
very, and the belly white. It grows from one
to three feet long, and is a very sharp biter.






A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


When one takes the hook, there is no difficulty
in knowing when to pull in. Why it is called
the weakfish I do not know, unless because
when it has been out of the water its flesh soft-
ens and soon becomes unfit for food. When
eaten soon after it is caught, it is very good."
Just as Uncle John finished his little lecture,
an exclamation from Will, who had baited with
a piece of the crab, and dropped his line into
the water, attracted their attention. Not quite
so impetuous as Jack, he landed his prize more
carefully, and stood looking at it with wonder,
hardly knowing what to say. At last he called
out:
"Well, what have I caught ?"
It was a beautiful fish, though entirely differ-
ent from Uncle John's. It had a small head
and the funniest little tail that ever was seen.
Its back was of a bright brown color, but its
belly was almost pure white; it was quite round
and flat, with a rough skin.
"Turn him over on his back, and rub him
gently," said the captain. Do it softly, and
watch him."
Will complied, and gently rubbed him. Im-
mediately the fish began swelling, and as Will
continued the rubbing it grew larger and larger
until Will feared that the fish would burst its
little body.
"Well," he said, "I never saw anything like
that, Captain! Do tell me what this is."
"This we call, here in Bamegat, the balloon-
fish. It is elsewhere called the puffer, swell-fish
and globe-fish. One kind is called the sea-
porcupine, because of its being covered with
short, sharp spines. It is of no value for food."
Jack thought his time had come to caich
another prodigy; and when his hook had been
rebaited by the skipper, he dropped his line into
the water, and was soon rewarded by another
bite. Using more caution this time, he landed
his fish securely on deck instead of over the
sail, and exclaimed:
"Wonders will never cease! I don't know
what I've got now, but I suppose that Captain
John can tell."
While he was saying this the fish began to
utter some sounds that, by a stretch of the im-
agination, might be called musical. They were
about as harmonious as the croak of a frog.


It was of a dark-brown color, with a head
larger than the rest of its body, but not dispro-
portioned. Like the toad-fish, its body tapered
toward the tail, but not so sharply; its head
was shovel-shaped, and just below its gills
there were two large projecting fins and some
feelers.
"Give him a pinch just below the gills, and
see what he will do," said the captain.
Will was rather afraid to risk the experiment,
but being assured that there was no danger, he
at once grasped the fish with thumb and finger,
and was rewarded by a repetition of the musical
sounds.
"That is what we call a sea-robin. Perhaps
your uncle can tell you something about it,"
said the captain. So they carried the musical
fish to Uncle John, who was at the bow.
"That is sometimes called a gurnard," said
he; "and there are several species of it. Its
flesh is white and, when properly cooked, it is
said to be very good."
"There is a gentleman at Perth Amboy who
always buys all the sea-robins the fishermen
bring him; he thinks they are the best kind of
fish," said the captain.
In the mean time Uncle John had been
quietly landing upon the deck several beau-
ties like the one he had first caught. This was
too much for the boys; they watched him very
closely to see how he handled his rod and line.
They noticed that as he dropped his hook into
the water, he carefully sounded the depth and
so arranged his line that the hook should be a
short distance above the bottom, and that he
'kept it in very gentle motion, making, how-
ever, no sudden movements with it. The boys
Were very.intent upon learning how to fish, and
knowing that their uncle was an old hand, they
hoped to become expert fishermen by imitating
him. So, after watching a few moments, they
took their own rods in hand and were soon re-
warded by the capture of several fine fish. The
captain had also taken a rod, and was trying
to see what he could do.
The boys were too busy in attending to
their own rods to look after the captain, or
even after their uncle. There was a cessation in
the biting'of the fish; both, however, in hopes
of success, never relaxed their efforts. All at






1892.] A FISHING-TRIP

once an exclamation from the captain-in it-
self a most unusual occurrence--caused them
to look toward him. They saw him leaning
over the side of the boat, line in hand, intently
engaged in trying to draw something from the
water. What it was neither he nor they could
tell.
"The landing-net!" cried the captain;
"quick! "
The boys had seen on deck a net gathered
round a circular iron rod attached to a long
pole, and Will at once supposed it was the
landing-net. He instantly sprang for it and
made his way to the captain.
I 'm afraid I '11 break my line," declared the
captain. "There is something at the other end
of it; what it is I can't imagine. It is mighty
heavy; it is not a fish, or I should know it by
the motion; it is something that is giving a
dead, heavy pull. It does not seem to resist
being drawn to the surface, except by its own
weight. Master Will, follow my line and put
the landing-net under whatever it may be, and
see if we cannot land it in that way."
Will shoved the net down into the water,
placing it deep enough to get under whatever
was so taxing the patience of the captain. He
found that it took all his strength to raise the
net. By the joint efforts of the captain and
Will, the prize was brought to view, and to
their astonishment they found they had caught
a huge turtle of the hawk-bill species.
Green-turtle soup! said Jack.
"Oh, no! said the captain; "this is a turtle,
but not that kind. We seldom catch that kind
with a hook. In fact, I don't remember that
it has ever been done; but this fellow is fairly
hooked. Now, Master Will, lay him over on
his back, and we '11 see what he is like."
Will, who was scientifically inclined, exam-
ined the turtle quite critically, and was aston-
ished to discover that in many respects it very
much resembled an ordinary duck in its appear-
ance. Its fore legs were like the wings; its
body was round and quite like that of a duck;
its hind legs resembled those of the same bird;
and Will began to think of what he had read
in Miss N. B. Buckley's interesting book, Life
and her Children," about the relations between
the different orders of the animal creation. He


TO BARNEGAT. 775

was interested by the appearance of its head
and neck. The upper jaw closed over the
lower, being like the bill of a hawk. This ex-
plained its name.
What to do with the animal was the question.
The captain was a practical man, and he soon
decided. It was to be taken to the hotel, and
the next day made into soup, which, while it
might not be equal to green-turtle soup, would
supply the needs of a party of hungry fishermen.
The boys noticed that even while they were
so intently engaged in taking care of the turtle,
the captain had been looking out, apparently
scanning the surface of the water, and then look-
ing aloft. By this time the boys had learned
that when the captain did that he had some par-
ticular reason for it. So they patiently watched
and waited, and at last the captain said:
Boys, look out ahead and notice whether
you see anything peculiar upon the surface of
the water."
At first they could see nothing, but after-
ward, almost as far off as the eye could see,
they thought they saw a peculiar quiver or
motion just upon the surface, and so told the
captain.
"Now," he went on, "look up in the sky, and
tell me if you see anything unusual there."
No," said Jack; "nothing but gulls sailing
about. Once in a while one drops to the water.
I can see that in New York Bay, any day."
"Ah!" said the captain, "I '11 show you
some sport, now, such as you never saw before.
Do you know what all that means ?"
"No said both the boys.
"Well, that means bluefish. Did you ever
catch bluefish, boys? "
No."
"Well, you '11 catch some now."
The captain weighed anchor, raised the sails
and trimmed ship, so as to catch the wind.
When this was done the boat passed rapidly
down the bay. The captain now opened a lit-
tle compartment under the seat, where he still
sat as he guided the ship by the rudder. He
took out three long, strong lines, nearly a hun-
dred feet in length. At the end of each line was
a piece of lead, two or three inches long, into
one end of which was soldered a large fish-hook.
"What do you bait with, Captain? said Will.





A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


Nothing."
"Nothing ? Do you catch fish with that? "
"Yes. You '11 see."
The uncle knew what was coming, and very
quietly took one of the lines, threw out the end
upon which was the lead and hook, fastened the
other end securely to the boat, and allowed the
line to float until there were at least fifty feet
extended. He then grasped the line, first
guarding his hands with a pair of stout cotton
gloves, and stood ready. He had not been
long in this posture when he began to draw in
his line hand over hand, quickly and at the
same time with a regular, steady motion.
The boys could not understand how any fish
could be fool enough to bite at a piece of lead.
But they soon discovered that there certainly
was a fish at the end of the line. It threw it-
self out of the water and turned and twisted,
evidently desirous of escaping from the force
which was dragging it from its native element.
Uncle John very quietly continued his exer-
tions until his fish was within a few feet, when
he lifted it from the water and threw it over
into the boat.
What do you think of that, boys ?" asked
the captain.
Think of that! Why, what a fool that fish
is! What is it?"
"That's a bluefish, and a splendid fellow; it
must weigh at least four or five pounds."
The boys examined the fish and found that it
was rightly named. It was blue upon its back,
with a rounded head and full body. It had
quite sharp teeth in each jaw; in fact, -the cap-
tain warned them not to let their fingers come
too near his jaws. The boys now longed to
catch one themselves; so each armed himself
with a line and was soon rewarded. Will had
closely watched his uncle's manceuvers, and
imitated them to the best of his ability. He
soon landed a mate to the one his uncle had
caught. Jack was too impulsive. He succeeded
in bringing his fish to the side of the boat; but
just at the critical moment he lost his hold on
the line, it slipped from his hands, and away
weTt Mr. Bluefish!
Never mind, Master Jack," said the cap-
tain; "better luck next time! You must be
careful never to lose hold of the line. One hand


at least must grasp it, and the other must be
sure of its hold before you let go with the first."
Jack did not mourn long over his loss, but,
quickly throwing his line, soon hooked another,
and this time brought his fish in safely.
Now," said his uncle, "we have each of us
caught a bluefish, we have a number of weak-
fish, and it is hardly worth while for us to con
tinue the sport longer. I 've little doubt you
youngsters are sufficiently tired to make prepa-
rations for bed."
The excitement of the sport had in a meas-
ure subsided, and the boys readily admitted
that they were tired. So the Kate was rounded
to, the anchor was slipped, the sails lowered
and securely fastened, and the boys and their
uncle seated themselves and began to examine
their catch. The toad-fish had been preserved
at Jack's earnest request.
The captain began making preparations for
supper, and selected some of the bluefish and
some of the weakfish. Jack spoke up and said:
Captain, I thought after I had finished my
dinner that I should never want to eat any
more, but I am about as hungry as ever I was
in my life."
"You will have enough," said the captain,
"and there will be some to spare."
The captain soon had supper ready for them,
and there was enough on the table to satisfy
even Jack's hunger. Then the boys began to
wonder where they were to sleep. But the
captain soon solved that problem, as he had
solved so many others which had puzzled his
young passengers.
They sat for an hour or two talking quietly
with their uncle, until they began to nod. Then
Uncle John called out:
Captain, are the bunks ready? "
"Oh, yes," said the captain; "they have
been ready for some time."
"Well, boys," said their uncle, "let's go to
bed."
He led the way, and they found three com-
fortable beds arranged on the sides of the cabin,
with pillows and sheets and blankets, one for
each. Oh, how they slept!-with the ripple of
the waves against the sides of the boat for their
lullaby! Thus ended the first day of the excur-
sion into Barnegat Bay.


776





A FISHING-TRIP TO BARNEGAT.


The rest of their stay was equally delightful,
and the boys gained steadily in health and
strength until their return. When their mother
received them back safe and sound, she felt


that their vacation had been in every way a
most profitable one.
As for Uncle John, he invited the boys to
go again whenever they could.


OVERSHADOWED.

BY D. L.


MY tiny daughter Dolly
Comes frowning from her walk.
" My hat 's so dreffle big," she says,
That I tan't see to talk!"












WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.


By LAURA E. RICHARDS.


[Begun in the January numberr]
CHAPTER IX.
OUR FRIENDS.
WE had so many friends that I hardly know
where to begin. First of all, perhaps, I should
put the dear old Scotch lady whom we called
" D. D." She had another name, but that is
nobody's business but her own. D. D. was a
thousand years old. She always said so when
we asked her age, and she certainly ought to
have known. No one would have thought it,
to look at her, for she had not a single gray
hair, and her eyes were as bright and black as
a young girl's. One of the pleasantest things
about her was the way she dressed, in summer
particularly. She wore a gown of white dimity,
always spotlessly clean, made with a single
plain skirt, and a jacket. The jacket was a little
open in front, showing a handkerchief of white
net fastened with a brooch of hair in the shape
of a harp. Fashions made no difference to
D. D. People might wear green or yellow or
purple, as they pleased; she wore her white
dimity, and we children knew instinctively that
it was the prettiest and most becoming dress
that she could have chosen.
Another wonderful thing about D. D. was
her store-closet. There never was such a
closet as that! It was all full of glass jars,
and the jars were full of cinnamon, and nut-
meg, and cloves, and raisins, and all manner
of good things. Yes, and they were not
screwed down tight, as jars are likely to be
nowadays; but one could take off the top, and
see what was inside; and if it was cinnamon,
one might take even a whole stick, and D. D.
would not mind. Sometimes a friend of hers
who lived at the South would send her a barrel
of oranges (she called it a bar'l of awnges,"
because she was Scotch, and we thought it
sounded a great deal prettier than the common


way), and then we had glorious times; for
D. D. thought oranges were very good for us,
and we thought so too.
Then, she had some very delightful and in-
teresting drawers, full of old daguerreotypes,
and pieces of coral, and all kinds of alicum-
tweezles. Have I explained before that "ali-
cumtweezles are nearly the same as picknickles
and bucknickles ?
D. D.'s son was a gallant young soldier, and
it was his hair that she wore in the harp-shaped
brooch. Many of the daguerreotypes were of
him, and he certainly was as handsome a fellow
as any mother could wish a son to be. When
we went to take tea with D. D., which was
quite often, we always looked over her trea-
sures, and asked the same questions over and
over, the dear old lady never losing patience
with us. And such jam as we had for tea!
D. D.'s jams and jellies were famous, and she
often made our whole provision of sweet things
for the winter. Then we were sure of hav-
ing the best quince marmalade, and the clear-
est jelly; while as for the peach marmalade-
no words can describe it!
D. D. was a wonderful nurse; and when we
were ill, she often came and helped our mother
in taking care of us. Then she would sing us
her song-a song that no one but D. D. and
the fortunate children who had her for a friend
ever heard. It is such a good song that I must
write it down, being very sure that D. D. would
not care.

There was an old man, and he was mad,
And he ran up the steeple;
He took off his great big hat,
And waved it over the people.

To D. D. we owe the preservation of one
of Laura 's first compositions, written when she
was ten years old. She gave it to the good
lady, who kept it for many years in her treasure-






WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.


779


drawer, till Laura 's own children were old
enough to read it. It is a story, and is called:

LOST AND FOUND.
Marion Gray, a lovely girl of thirteen, one day tied on
her gipsy hat and, singing a merry song, bade good-by
to her mother, and ran quickly towards the forest. She
was the youngest daughter of Sir Edward Gray, a cele-
brated nobleman in great favor with the king, and con-
sequently Marion had everything she wished for. When
she reached the wood she set her basket down under a
chestnut-tree, and climbing up into the branches, she
shook them till the ripe fruit came tumbling down. She
then jumped down, and having filled her basket was
proceeding to another tree, when all of a sudden a dark-
looking man stepped but, who, when she attempted to
fly, struck her severely with a stick, and she fell senseless
to the ground.
Meanwhile all was in confusion at the manor-house.
Marion's faithful dog, Carlo, had seen the man lurking
in the thicket, and had tried to warn his mistress of the
danger. But seeing she did not mind, the minute he
saw the man prepare to spring out he had run to the
house. He made them understand that some one had
stolen Marion. "Who, Carlo, who?" exclaimed the
agonized mother. Carlo instantly picked up some A-B-C
blocks which lay on the floor, and putting together
the letters that form the word Gipsies, looked up at his
master and wagged his tail. "The gipsies! exclaimed
Sir Edward;. "alas if the gipsies have stolen our child,
we shall never see her again." Nevertheless, they
searched and searched the wood, but no trace of her was
to be found.

"Hush here she is! Is n't she a beauty ?"
"Yes! but what is her name? "
"Marion Gray. I picked her up in the wood. A
splendid addition to our train, for she can beg charity,
and a night's lodging, and then the easiest thing in the
world is just to find out where they keep the key, and
let us in. Hush! hush! she 's coming to."
These words were spoken by a withered hag of seventy
and the man who had stolen her. Slowly Marion opened
her eyes, and what was her horror to find herself in a
gipsy camp!
I will skip over the five long years of pain and suffer-
ing, and come to the end of my story. 5 years have
passed, and the new king sits on his royal throne, judging
and condemning a band of gipsies. They are all con-
demned but one young girl, who stands with downcast
eyes before him; but when she hears her doom, she
raises her dark flashing eyes on the king. A piercing
shriek is heard, the crown and sceptre roll down the
steps of the throne, and Marion Gray is clasped in her
father's arms !

Another dear friend was Miss Mary. She
was a 'small, brisk woman, with New Eng-
land" written all over her. She used to stay


with us a good deal, helping my mother in
household matters, or writing for our father;
and we all loved her dearly. She had the most
beautiful hair, masses and masses of it, of a
deep auburn, and waving in a lovely fashion.
She it was who used to say, Hurrah for Jack-
son! whenever anything met her special ap-
proval; and we all learned to say it too, and
to this day some of us cheer the name of Old
Hickory," who has been in his grave these fifty
years. Miss Mary came of seafaring people,
and had many strange stories of wreck and
tempest, of which we were never weary. Miss
Mary's energy was untiring, her activity un-
ceasing. She used to make long woodland ex-
peditions with us, in the woods around the
valley, leading the way "over hill, over dale,
thorough bush, thorough brier," finding all
manner of wild-wood treasures, creeping-jenny,
and ferns and mosses without end, which were
brought home to decorate the parlors. She
knew the name of every plant, and what it was
good for. She knew when the barberries must
be gathered, and when the mullen flowers were
ready. She walked so fast and so far that
she wore out an unreasonable number of shoes
in a season.
Speaking of her shoes reminds me that at
the fire of which I, spoke in a previous chapter,
at the Institution for the Blind, Miss Mary was
the first person to give the alarm. She had on
a brand-new pair of morocco slippers when the
fire broke out, and by the time it was extin-
guished they were in holes. This will give
you some idea of Miss Mary's energy.
Then there was Mr. Ford, one of the very
best of our friends. He was a sort of facto-
tum of our father's, and, like The Bishop in
the "Bab Ballads," was "short and stout and
round-about, and zealous as could be." We
were very fond of trotting at his heels, and
loved to pull him about, and tease him, which
the good man never seemed to resent. Once,
however, we carried our teasing too far, as you
shall hear. One day our mother was sitting
quietly at her writing, thinking that the chil-
dren were all happy and good, and possessing
her soul in patience. Suddenly to her appeared
Julia, her hair flying, eyes wide open, mouth
ditto,-the picture of despair.






WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.


"Oh, Mama!" gasped the child, "I have
done the most dreadful thing! Oh, the most
dreadful, terrible thing! "
"What is it? exclaimed our mother, drop-
ping her pen in distress; what have you done,
dear? Tell me, quickly!"
"Oh, I cannot tell you!" sobbed the child;
" I cannot! "
Have you set the house on fire ? cried
our mother.
Oh, worse than that!" gasped poor Julia.
" Much worse!"
"Have you dropped the baby ?"
"Worse than that!"
Now there was nothing worse than dropping
the baby, so our mother began to feel relieved.
"Tell me at once, Julia," she said, "what
you have done "
"I-I-" sobbed poor Julia; "I pulled-
I pulled-off-Mr. Ford's wig!"
There were few people we loved better than
"Tomty," the gardener. This dear, good man
must have been a martyr to our pranks, and
the only wonder is that he was able to do any
gardening at all. It was "Tomty! here and
"Tomty!" there, from morning till night.
When Laura wanted her bonnet-strings tied
(oh, that odious little bonnet! with the rows
of pink and green quilled ribbon which was al-
ways coming off), she never thought of going
into the house to Mary, though Mary was
good and kind, too; she always ran to Tomty,
who must "lay down the shovel and the hoe,"
and fashion bow-knots with his big, clumsy,
good-natured fingers. When Harry was play-
ing out in the hot sun without a hat, and Mary
called to him to come in, like a good boy, and
get his hat, did he go? Oh, no! He tum-
bled the potatoes or apples out of Tomty's
basket, and put that on his head instead of a
hat, and it answered just as well.
Poor, dear Tomty! He went to California in
later years, and was cruelly murdered by some
base wretches, for the sake of a little money
which he had saved.
Somehow, we had not very many friends of
our own age. I suppose one reason was that
we were so many ourselves that there were
always enough to have a good time.
There were one. or two little girls who used


to go with us on the famous maying-parties,
which were great occasions. On May-day
morning we would take to ourselves baskets,
some full of goodies, some empty, and start for
a pleasant wooded place, not far from Green
Peace. Here, on a sunny slope where the
savings grew not too thickly to prevent the sun
from shining merrily down on the mossy sward,
we would pitch. our tent (only there was no
tent), and prepare to be perfectly happy. We
gathered such early flowers as were to be found,
and made garlands of them; we chose a queen,
and crowned her; and then we had a feast,
which was really the object of the whole expe-
dition.
It was the proper thing to buy certain
viands for this feast, the home dainties being
considered not sufficiently rare.
Well, we ate our oranges, and nibbled our
cocoanut, and the older ones drank the milk,
if there were any in the nut: this was con-
sidered the very height of luxury, and the little
ones knew it was too much for them to expect.
I cannot remember whether we were generally
ill after these feasts, but I think it highly
probable.
In mentioning our friends, is it right to pass
over the good "four-footers," who were so
patient with us, and bore with so many of our
vagaries? Can we ever forget "Oggy the
Steamboat," so called from the loudness of her
purring? Do not some of us still think with
compunction of the day when this good cat
was put in a tin pan, and covered over with
a pot-lid, while on the lid was set her deadly
enemy, "Ella," the fat King Charles spaniel?
What a snarling ensued! what growls, hisses,
yells mingled with the clashing of tin and the
"unseemly laughter" of naughty children!
And Lion," the good Newfoundland dog,
who let us ride on his back-when he was in
the mood, and tumbled us off when he was
not! He was a dear dog, but Fannie," his
mate, was anything but amiable, and some-
times gave sore offense to visitors by snapping
at their heels and growling.
But if the cats and dogs suffered from us,
we suffered from "Jos6"! 0 Jos6! what a
tyrannous little beast you were! Never was
a brown donkey prettier, I am quite sure;


780






WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.


never did a brown donkey have his own way
so completely.
Whether a child could take a ride, depended
entirely on whether Jos6 was in the mood for
it or not. If not, he trotted a little way till
he got the child alone; and then he calmly
rubbed off his rider against a tree or fence, and
trotted away to the stable. Of course this was
when we were very little; but by the time the
little ones were big enough to manage him,
Jos6 was dead, so some of us never got even
with him," as the boys say. When the dearest
uncle in the world sent us the donkey-carriage,


things went better, for the obstinate little brown
gentleman could not get rid of that, of course,
and there were many delightful drives, with
much jingling of harness, and all manner of
style and splendor.
These were some of our friends, two-footers
and four-footers. There were many others, of
course, but time and space fail to tell of them.
After all, perhaps they were just like other
children's friends. I must not weary my read-
ers by rambling on indefinitely in these long-
untrodden paths; but I wish other children
could have heard Oggy purr!


(To be concluded.)


THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.

By KATE TANNATT WOODS.


o HE Jollivers were
a very happy fam-
Sily. The old priest
who sometimes
Si visited them said
A^, they were "the
"I I happiest family he
Shad ever seen"; and
When you consider
S lhat the dear old
in an traveled hundreds
S.1 ,:, miles on foot, and
visited families of all
\' l/ sizes and conditions, his
W word possessed some value.
When Grandpa Jolliver died and left his sons
a fortune, made out of pelts and skins brought
down from the Red River of the North, his
sons opened a large banking-house in the very
city where their father had made purchases out
of vehicles the queerest and quaintest ever seen
on wheels, but familiar to the Western fur-
traders as Red River carts."
The Jollivers grew and flourished. John


Jolliver was short and stout. Joe Jolliver was
long and lank. John was fond of a joke, and
never made one; Joe always made them for
his brother to laugh over.
Both were married in the same place, on
the same day, by the same minister, and they
married sisters.
As the children grew about them they were
happier than ever, for Joe's children were all
boys, and John's children all girls. People
hardly knew which family they were visiting, for
the Jolliver boys were always at Uncle John's,
or the girls were at Uncle Joe's.
John Jolliver laughed until his eyes glistened
when the school-teacher said: That boy of
yours will make his mark; he has a wonderful
taste for mathematics." John's boys were all
girls, but he thanked the teacher and told Joe
about the praise for his boy.
One day Bessie Jolliver called at the bank-
ing-house on her way home from school.
Bessie was just thirteen, and as pretty as a
rosebud. When she went into the outer office
and said to Mr. Gruff, the senior clerk, that






THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.


"she must see papa on important business,"
Mr. Gruff's wrinkled face looked younger, and
he tapped at the door of the private room.
Some one said, "Come," and Mr. Gruff
opened the door a very little.
Miss Bessie would like to see her papa,"
said he.
Come in, little girl," said John, opening his
arms at once for her. Bessie went in, and
seated herself on his knee.
I did n't mean to interrupt you, Papa, in
business hours, but Uncle Joe will please ex-
cuse me, for it 's very important, and-"
Oh, it 's all right," said Uncle Joe. "Don't
mind me."
How could he say anything else with that
bright, beaming face before him?
Her hat was tipped back, her rippling,
tantalizing hair fell softly over her brow and
touched her rosy cheeks, and when she spoke,
deep dimples peeped out among the roses. It
was a sight to brighten any spot, or gladden
any heart.
"You see," said Bessie, eagerly, "it has just
come out, you know; for the telegram came
last evening, and they are all packing up,
and 'Din' must be sold."
"Your pronouns are rather confusing, my
dear," said her father
"You have jumped into the middle of your
story, pet," said Uncle Joe.
Oh, yes! Well, it 's the Needhams. Old
Judge Needham has sent for Mrs. Needham
arid the boys to come to New York at once;
they are to meet a friend of his at Hastings to-
morrow, and everything must be sold, and Ned
Needham almost cried when he said Din must
be sold. Din knows ever so much, Papa; and
the crusty old judge won't let the boys keep
him; and Ned said, perhaps-if-he knew I
would be kind to Din, and I said, if you were
willing, and Uncle Joe did n't mind,- why, you
see, I just adore donkeys, Papa."
Uncle Joe joined John in laughing, but Bes-
sie's sober face silenced them.
"What am I to understand from this, little
daughter? Do you wish me to purchase a
small donkey for you?"
"Why, of course, Papa; it 's Din Needham!
Everybody knows him; he 's as cunning and


gentle as can be, and Ned rides him up to the
Falls, and everywhere."
Ned is a boy, you know."
"Yes, Papa, but Ned's cousin rode Din all
last summer when she was visiting here; and
it's so nice to ride a donkey all by yourself,-
they look so much wiser than ponies."
So the poor ponies will stand in the stable
henceforth ?"
Oh, no, Papa; I will only ride Din a little
to keep him in order; and you will, now,
won't you, Papa ? "
Then Bessie Jolliver patted her papa's cheek
with one hand and pulled his whiskers with
the other, as she looked coaxingly in his
round, full face.
Uncle Joe winked slyly at his brother, and
then struck a little bell on the table. A young
clerk came at once.
Harrison, I wish you would step round to
Needhams' on Nicollet Avenue and tell them
to send round the donkey for our inspection."
Oh, no, Uncle Joe dear, please don't," ex-
claimed Bessie as she left her father to grasp
her uncle's hand, please don't. Din looks so
nice in his own stall with his cunning blanket
on; and if you and papa would n't mind, it 's
such a little way, and-and-"
So it came to pass that both brothers walked
along the streets of St. Paul in the glorious
noonday sun, and between them ran, skipped,
and danced Miss Bessie.
The little stable was wonderfully neat and
pretty. Ned Needham was there with his
younger brother Eugene, and they were en-
gaged in showing Din to a coarse-looking
man.
Ned's eyes brightened when the wealthy
bankers came in. Eugene hastily wiped away
some suspicious moisture from his eyes, for the
rough man had just said:
"He 's good enough to wollop around on
after the cows."
The idea of their beautiful, sleek Din being
"wolloped" anywhere, and especially after
cows, by a rude herd-boy! It was dreadful
to Eugene; it was even worse to Ned, for he
had spent many happy hours on Din's back.
Ned blushed when he saw Bessie's smiling
face, and he at once put the bridle in her hands.


782






THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.


Well, business is business," said the rough
man. "I '11 give you just twenty-five dollars for
the brute with the saddle, blanket, and bridle.
You 've got to sell, and money is money to a
widder."
John Jclliver stepped forward then.
"How much do you ask for him?" said he,
kindly, to the boys.
"Mama said we ought to get fifty dollars
with his outfit; papa paid more than that for
the saddle and bridle."
Would you like the money for your journey
to New York ?"
Oh, no, sir; grandpa will pay our expenses.
He told us to get what we could for Din and
our own things,
and leave the
money with you."
John Jolliver
looked at Joe,
and Joe raised
his eyebrows. -
"We knew your
father, Ned," said
John, speaking
for the firm.
"Yes, sir," said
Ned, not daring
to look up.
He was good
man, and I am
very sorry you
must go away "NED, APPROACHING TI
WISH TO
from us. Still,
your grandpa knows best, and I dare say he
will give you every possible opportunity."
The coarse man here interrupted:
"I don't know what you want here, Squire,
but I came after that donkey; it 's just the sort
of thing for my herd-boy to use, and if he 's got
any nonsense in him I 'm the man to take it
out."
Eugene drew nearer Bessie, and Ned spoke
out bravely:
"We don't wish to sell Din to do such work;
he was a present to me from papa on my ninth
birthday, and I would rather kill him now than
have him abused."
"You 're mighty smart, young feller; but you
need n't put on any airs with me! I 'm blunt,


I am, and everybody knows that your 'papa'
owed more money than can ever be paid, since
he passed in his checks so suddenly."
John Jolliver's eyes flashed, and Joe Jolliver
was seen to double up the fingers of his right
hand, yet neither of them said a word to the
coarse creature who could hurt the feelings
of two fatherless children. Mr. Needham had
been dead but two months; he had been a kind
husband and an affectionate father, and consid-
ered a man of wealth; but some unfortunate
investments had impoverished him previous to
his sudden death. Had he lived, he might have
made his way to better times, but strangers
were left to settle his estate.

















i--

HE DONKEY, SPOKE OUT BRAVELY, 'WE DON'T
SELL DIN TO DO SUCH WORK!' "

I will purchase your donkey, Ned," said
John Jolliver; "and you shall name your own
terms. As for you, sir," said he, turning to the
unfeeling stranger, "I think you need not
trouble yourself to tell these fatherless boys
of their misfortunes. Money can escape from
all of us, but a kind heart and a pleasant word
are current coin everywhere."
The stranger walked off without a word, and
Joe Jolliver said to his brother, "It was hard
work to remember my Quaker training! "
That very night Din was taken to the pretty
stable where the Jollivers' horses were kept, and
all the children marched out to see him in his
new quarters.
The Jollivers lived in a double house with a


H






THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.


beautiful garden behind it; and just around the
corer of the block, at the end of a pretty drive-
way, stood the stable with its French roof and
handsome doors. All the Jollivers knew that
the donkey was purchased for Bessie, but that
did not matter. John Jr. gave it sugar, and tried
the comb and brush on its glossy sides; Percy
braided its mane; Bessie patted and hugged it,
and each and all hung about it until the groom


/1 __


"WHEN SATURDAY CAME, BESS


said they made more fuss over the little beast
than over all the fine horses in the stable."
The Needhams came round to say good-by,
and all the Jollivers waited upon them to the
stable, where Din winked knowingly at them, as
much as to say, I 'm quite comfortable here."
When Saturday came, Bessie and John Jr.
started for the Falls of Minnehaha. It was
only a pleasure trip, and, like true Western chil-
dren, they were as much at home in the saddle
as your grandma is in her rocking-chair.
You may take dinner at your aunt Russell's,
and come home early in the afternoon," said
Bessie's mother.
You may come whenever Bessie is ready,"
said John Jr.'s mother.
The children started off in fine spirits, and
all the Jollivers shouted good-by from the back-
piazza steps.
When they were fairly under way, a fancy
came to Mrs. Joe, and she left her work of
putting out the children's clean clothes for
Sunday, to run across the large hall which
separated the two houses.
Sister," said she, "suppose we take the car-


riages, and drive up in time to come home with
the children ? "
Or, better still, let us surprise Aunt Russell
by taking tea with her, and drive home by
moonlight," said her sister.
Excellent," said Mrs. Joe.
In less than ten minutes Percy Jolliver was
running down the hill on his way to the bank-
ing-house, with a note for "John or Joe."

















IE AND JOHN JR. STARTED."

The Jolliver ladies very often addressed their
notes in that manner, for Mr. John might be
out and Mr. Joe in, or Mr. Joe out and Mr.
John in; and every one knows that family
notes on family matters should be answered
at once.
John Jolliver was in, and he at once re-
plied, "Yes, we will go. Lunch at one o'clock
sharp, and order the horses at one-thirty."
Then there was hurrying to and fro: three
Jolliver girls to dress, and three Jolliver boys
to make ready. However, it was all done
without fretting, for the Jollivers helped one
another, and everyone had a place for every-
thing. At half-past one o'clock, both families
came out of their respective front doors and
went down the steps to their respective car-
riages.
Each coachman cracked his whip, and each
horse was ready for duty. Once out of the
city, they traveled faster.
"How surprised Bessie will be!" said Bes-
sie's sisters.
And how surprised John Jr. will be! said
John Jr.'s brothers.


784


Q,
AX






THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.


"Aunt Russell will be so delighted," said
Mrs. Joe; "she always enjoys our visits."
When they reached Aunt Russell's fine farm,
not far from the Falls of Minnehaha, she was sur-
prised and delighted also, but neither Bessie nor
John Jr. had been there at all. Then every
Jolliver looked sober, and in one corer the gen-
tlemen talked in a low tone with Uncle Russell.
"Indians ?" said Mrs. Joe.
Never," said Aunt Russell; "there is n't
an Indian within fifty miles that would hurt a
white man."
Lost their way? said Mrs. John.
Nonsense," said Aunt Russell; "they both
can come here blindfolded."
"We will settle the matter," said Uncle
Russell. "We men will run into Minneapolis,
and hunt them up.. I 'm inclined to think that
the donkey is the cause of the trouble," and
away went the gentlemen to town.
The streets were full of people, for 'eyery-
body was going to the circus. The afterrion
performance began at three.


"Have you seen two children,--a girl riding
a donkey, and a boy mounted on a black pony? "
Every one said "No." At last, near the
square where the tents were pitched, a man said:
"Yes; I saw 'em in the procession."
Mr. Joe and Mr. John looked at each other
in astonishment. Their children had never
before deceived them in all their lives. This
was a very sad day to the indulgent fathers.
Uncle Russell bought tickets, and they went
in. The crowd was so great the children could
not be seen, even if they were in the tent.
They walked twice about the ring, but neither
Bessie nor John Jr. could be found.
We must wait," said Uncle Russell.
At last the trumpet sounded, and the grand
march began. The elephants, the horses, the
acrobats, the "freaks," and then the ponies.
"Good heavens! exclaimed John Jolliver,
"there are our children in the procession!"
Joe Jolliver saw them at the same moment.
Bessie did not raise her eyes, but John Jr.
looked eagerly about. He caught sight of his


THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY IN THE GRAND PROCESSION.
"We may find them in the tent," said Uncle father's face, and quickly raised his hat and
Russell. nodded toward the tent where they had entered.
"Never! said John Jolliver. My Bessie Before the march was over, Joe and John
is a timid little woman and avoids a crowd." and Uncle Russell were in the performers' tent,
Over and over again they asked: and when pretty Bessie came out, the first
VOL. XIX. -50.







THE JOLLIVERS' DONKEY.


persons she saw were her uncles and her own
dear father.
Papa!" she cried. "0 Papa, take us
away. We could n't help it. Din would come!"
Bessie began to cry, and John Jr. told the
story, which the manager thus confirmed:
We were pretty near the bridge, sir, when
your young people came along; and as soon as
that donkey heard the music, he broke and ran
for a place in the lines. He would have it,
he did have it, and our best trained ponies had
to give way. The young man is a splendid
rider, and so is the young lady; we would n't
mind having such, any day. But we tried our
best to turn that donkey out, as soon as we
got here. He would n't go, and so I told
the young folks to wait until the afternoon
performance was over, and he would be tired
out. The young lady did n't dare dismount
for fear he 'd get away. When he heard the
trumpet to form into line, he was like a wild
creature. You see, he has been trained to it,
and he remembered it all at once. I offered


to buy him, but the young lady would n't sell
him, and so we made up our minds to let
him perform, and then' he would go away
satisfied."
Sure enough, Din had once belonged to a
circus company, and Mr. Needham had bought
him when he was laid up with a lame foot.
So Din found a good home, and the groom
soon cured him; but the children never knew
until that eventful day that his droll tricks were
taught him in a circus-ring.
When the grand march was over, Din was
tired and glad to go out into the fresh air.
"Better shut him up until we leave town,"
said the manager, or he may break and run
after us. The music sets him wild, you see."
Bessie's father took his advice, and Din was
put in a stall at the Russell farm.
The Jollivers had a merry supper at Aunt
Russell's, and rode home by moonlight; but
poor Bessie was much mortified when she saw
in her papa's morning paper an account of the
queer antics of Jollivers' Donkey.


-A
i7r
IV


By OLIVER HERFORD.


N Owl once lived in a hollow tree,
And he was as wise as wise could be.
The branch of Learning he did n't know
Could scarce on the tree of knowledge grow.
He knew the tree from branch to root,
And an Owl like that can afford to hoot.


786






THE EARLY OWL.
And he hooted-until, alas! one day
He chanced to hear, in a casual way,
An insignificant little bird
Make use of a term he had never heard.
He was flying to bed in the dawning light
When he heard her singing with all her might,
"Hurray! hurray for the early worm!"
Dear me!" said the Owl, "what a singular term!
I would look it up if it
were n't so late;
I must rise at dusk
to investigate.

rise
Makes an Owl healthy
and stealthy and
wise!" ,AL


So he slept like an honest Owl all day,
And rose in the early twilight gray,
And went to work in the dusky light
To look for .the early worm all night.
He searched the country for miles around,
But the early worm was not to be found.
So he went to bed in the dawning light,
And looked for the worm again next night.
And again and again, and again and again
He sought and he sought, but all in vain,
Till he must have looked for a year and a day
For the early worm, in the twilight gray.


At last in despair he gave up the search,
And was heard to remark, as he sat on his perch
By the side of his nest in the hollow tree,
"The thing is as plain as night to me-
Nothing can shake my conviction firm,
There 's no such taking as the early worm."


jNn
#9>.r& *;'4i"


787















fI


r,
1!













STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY.


BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS.


[Begun in the December number.]
CHAPTER V.

AN Indian who dwells in a house at all
seems no Indian at all to most of us, who
know none too much about our own coun-
try. We picture him as living in his wigwam
or tepee of bark or hide for a few weeks
or months at a time, and then moving his
" town elsewhere.
There are some tribes of civilized natives in
the Indian Territory who have learned to dwell
in ordinary houses and to give up their rov-
ing; but that is a lesson they have mastered
only within the last few years. There is but
one Indian race in North America above Mex-
ico which has always lived in houses since their
history began. And in very similar houses they
dwell to-day, and in very much the same style
as before- the first European eyes ever saw
America. There are hundreds of ruins of these
enormous community-houses scattered over the
territory of New Mexico, and a few are still
inhabited. The most striking example in use
is the present pueblo of Taos, in the extreme
north of the territory. That wonderfully pictur-
esque town -looking at which the traveler finds
it hard to realize that he is in America--has
but two houses; but they are six stories high,
and contain some three hundred rooms apeice.
Acoma, in a western county, has six houses,
all three stories high; and Zuii, still farther
west, has a six-story community-house, cover-
ing many acres and containing several hundred
rooms. As for ruins of such buildings, they
are everywhere. Some years ago I discov-
ered, in a remote and dangerous corer of the
Navajo country, such a ruin, "The Pueblo
Alta,"- the type of countless others,-in which
the five-story community-house formed an en-
tire rectangle, inclosing a public square in the


middle. The outer walls of these houses never
had doors or windows, so they presented a
blank wall of great height to any robber foe.
On one side of this ruin is a great tower, with
part of the fifth story still standing, and still
showing the loopholes through which the
besieged Pueblos showered arrows on their
besiegers. This pueblo was a deserted and for-
gotten ruin when the first European entered
New Mexico, three hundred and fiftyyears ago.
All these great houses were built of stone,
very well laid. The outer edges of all these
slabs of stone are as smooth as if it had been
chiseled-and yet we are absolutely sure that
before the conquest the Pueblos had no metal
tools whatever. Their only implements were
stone axes and the like.
The architecture of the Pueblos is unique
and characteristic; and their original houses
look like nothing else in the world. They are
all terraced, so that the front of a building looks
like a flight 'of gigantic steps. The second
story stands well back upon the roof of the
first, which gives it a broad, uncovered porch,
so to speak, its whole length; the third story is
similarly placed upon the second, and so on
up. There are no stairs inside even the largest
of these buildings--except sometimes ladders
to go down into the first story, when that is
built in the old fashion, without doors In
Acoma, which has over seven hundred people,
there are but six doors on the ground; and to
get into the first story of any of the hundreds
of other houses, you must go up a ladder to the
first roof, enter the second story, lift a wee trap-
door in its floor, and back down another ladder
to the ground floor. All the stairs are outside
the house and can be moved from place to
place a plan which has its advantages as well
as. its drawbacks, for they are all simple,
clumsy, and astonishingly tall ladders.






STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY.


All these architectural peculiarities were for
purposes of defense. The lower story was a
dead wall, into which an enemy with only abo-
riginal arms could not break-and some of
these walls have defied American field-pieces.
The ladders could be easily drawn up; and
the level roofs made an excellent position fiom
which to rain stones and arrows upon the foe.
Even if the enemy captured the first roof, the
people had only to retire to the second, from
which they could fight down with no less ad-


liantly whitewashed, according to the Pueblo
custom, with gypsum. The rafters are the
straight trunks of tapering pines, stripped of
their bark; and above these is a roof of straw
and clay which is perfectly water-tight. The
doors and windows are all small,- another
relic of the days of deadly danger,- and in the
more ancient houses the windows are only thin
sheets of gypsum. Nearly every room has its
queer, southwestern fireplace, in which the
sticks are burned on end. Those for heating


'r', -
p -~. **(, *j .


PUEBLO OF TAOS.


vantage. Even where a terraced house stood
alone, it could easily be defended against a
far superior force; and as a rule the tenements
were built around a square, so that their sheer
back walls presented a cliff-like face which no
savage foe could scale, and their fronts faced
upon the safe common inclosure. At Pecos,
the largest of the pueblos, and at many smaller
ones, an Indian could step from his door and
walk around the whole town on any one of the
tiers of roofs. Sometimes these community-
houses were terraced on both sides; and the
two at Taos are like huge pyramids, sloping to
the top from all four sides.
The stone walls are plastered inside and out
with adobe-clay, which makes a smooth, sub-
stantial wall and looks very neat when bril-


alone are very tiny, and stand in a corner; but
the cooking fireplaces often fill one side of
a room, and under their capacious "hoods" a
dozen people can sit.
As you may imagine from what has been
said of their houses, the Pueblos are very pecu-
liar and interesting Indians. They live very
neatly and comfortably, and their homes are
generally as clean as wax. They are peaceable
and industrious, good hunters, but farmers by
profession-as they have been ever since the
world first found them. They have always
elected their own officers, and obey the laws
both of their own strange government and of
the United States in a way which they cer-
tainly did not learn from us for there is no
American community so law-abiding. They






STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY.


are entirely self-supporting, and receive no-
thing from the government. They are Indians
who are not poor, who are not lazy, and who
do not impose servile labor upon their wives.
One of my Pueblo neighbors in Isleta lent the


*.- -Ly -_ -_.- "
AN ANCIENT CLIFF-DWELLING.
money to pay off the soldiers in New Mexico
during our civil war!
Quite as interesting and remarkable as the
best types of the Pueblo communal architec-
ture, though in a different way, are the ruins
of their still more ancient homes. It was long
supposed that the so-called Cliff-builders" and
" Cave-dwellers" were of an extinct race; but


as soon as there was any really scientific inves-
tigation of the Southwest, the fact was fully
established that they were Pueblos. Indeed,
we now know even some of the history of the
most remarkable of all these ruins. The Pueb-
los used always to build in places
which nature had fortified, and
almost invariably upon the top of
"islands" of rock. Those who
found themselves near one of the
peculiar terraced cautions which
abound in some parts of the
Southwest generally built their
town upon the shelves of the
cliff; while those whose region
furnished precipices of easily
carved stone, usually hollowed
out caves therein for their dwell-
ings. It was all a matter of lo-
cality and surroundings.
A cation of the Cliff-builders"
is a wonderfully picturesque and
interesting place. The rock strata
were a great aid to the builders
of:those quaint chasm-towns, and,
indeed, probably first suggested
to them the idea of putting their
houses there. As I have said,
these cations are always terraced.
The cliffs are six to ten times as
far apart at the tops as at the
bottom, and a cut across the
canon would look something like
the letter V.
Sometimes there is a running
stream at the bottom; but as a
rule, in this arid region, the dry
season leaves only a chain of
S pools- which were, however,
enough for the water-supply of
S these curious communities. The
several lower shelves of the gorge
were never built upon; and the water was. all
carried in earthen jars or tight-woven baskets
on the heads of the industrious housewives sev-
eral hundred feet up the cliff.
But safety was before water; and so the
swarthy people built their homes far up the
side of the receding cliff. And there was a
great saving of labor. And there, too, the






STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY.


" Cliff-builder" found that nature had made
ready to his hand three of the six sides of every
room. The smooth, solid rock of the shelf
was his floor, and a narrow but endless porch
outside,as well. The overhanging rock of the
ledge above was his roof-frequently a very
low one-and the face of the intermediate
stratum was his back wall. He had only to
build three little stone walls from stone floor
to stone roof, and there was his house!
These cliff-rooms were extremely small, vary-
ing somewhat according to the strata, but sel-
dom more than a dozen feet long, eight or ten
feet deep, and five to eight feet high. In
many of them no ordinary person could stand
erect. There were seldom any windows; and
the doors-which served also as chimneys-
were very low, and but twelve or fourteen
inches wide. An enemy at the very door
would be so crouched and cramped in enter-
ing, that those within could take him at a dis-
advantage.
Think of a town whose sidewalks were three
or four feet wide, and more than that number
of hundred feet apart, and had between them
a stupendous gutter five hundred feet deep !
Think of those fat, dimpled, naked brown ba-
bies whose three-foot playground had no fence
against a five-hundred-foot tumble !
There are several of these cautions of the
" Cliff-builders" near the town of Flagstaff,
Arizona--gigantic gashes in the level upland,
to whose very brink one comes without the
remotest suspicion that such an abyss is in
front. One of these cautions is over twenty
miles long, and six hundred feet deep in
places. It contains the ruins of about a thou-
sand of these remarkable cliff-houses, some of
which are very well preserved. The Cafion
de Tskyee, with its mummies, was another
abode of the Cliff-builders "; and there are
many more scattered over parts of Arizona,
New Mexico, and Colorado. In most of these
houses there is little left. Furniture they never
had, and most of the implements have been
*carried away by the departing inhabitants or
by other Indians. The floors are one and two
feet deep with the dust of ages, mingled with
thorns and nutshells brought in by the chip-
munks which are now their only tenants. By


digging to the bedrock floor I have found fine
stone axes, beautiful arrow-heads, the puzzling
quoit-like stones, and even baskets of yucca-
fiber exactly like the strange "plaques" made
in Moqui to-day-but these crumbled to dust
soon after they were exposed to the air.
Between the cliff-houses of which I have
been speaking and the cave-dwellings, there is


THE CUEVA PINTADA, OR "PAINTED CAVE." (SEE NEXT PAGE.)
a very curious and startling link-houses, or
even whole towns, built in natural caves!
The Iylontezuma Well is such a one, and there
are several others, of which the best example
is the wonderful cave-village on the Mancos.


1892.]






STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY.


These caves are not, like the Mammoth Cave,
great subterranean passages and chambers, but
vast hollows- generally bowl-like-in the
face of a cliff. They absolutely protect the in-
closed town, above, at both sides, and often
also below as they are usually well up from
the bottom of the cliff, and between is a steep
ascent which no enemy could scale in the face
of any opposition. Such towns could be cap-
tured only by surprise. The romantic Cueva
Pintada,* which only half a dozen white men
have ever seen, is a very good type of these
caves on a smaller scale-being only about
fifty feet in diameter. It looks very much like
the bowl of a gigantic ladle set into the cliff
fifty feet from its base, and has several artificial
cave-chambers, but no houses of masonry.
To me the real cave-dwellings are the most
interesting of all these strange sorts of prehis-
toric ruins. They are perhaps no older than
the cliff-houses; but they seem so much farther
from our world! To enter them almost carries
one back to the time when our own ancestors
-and all mankind-dwelt in holes and wore
the skins of beasts: those far, dim days when
there was not even iron, and when fire itself
was new, and the savage stomach was all the
conscience and brains that man knew he had.
The most extensive and wonderful cave-
communities in the world are in the Cochiti
country, on the west side of the Rio Grande,
some sixty miles northwest of Santa F6. The
country itself is well worthy a long journey to
see, for it is one of the wildest on earth. The
enormous plateau is divided into pillars by
dizzy caions from the mountains to the deep-
worn river; and the mesas t which separate the
cafions run out in long triangles, so that when
they break off in thousand-foot cliffs in the
chasm of the Rio Grande their points are so
narrow as to look from the front like stupen-
dous columns-whence the Spaniards named
them potreros, pillars.
The whole region for very many hundreds
of square miles-and indeed like the larger
part of New Mexico-is volcanic. When I


was a boy in New England, I thought the
floating-stone with which I scrubbed my dingy
fists was a great curiosity; but in the gorges
of the Cochiti upland are cliffs a thousand feet
high, and miles long, entirely of this pumice.
There is in these cliffs enough stone that will
float" to take the stains from all the boy hands
in the world for all time.
In this awe-inspiring wilderness several tribes
of Pueblo Indians dwelt in prehistoric times.
It did not take them long, probably, to learn
that in such a country of soft cliffs it was rather
easier to dig one's house than to build it-
even when the mason had no better tools
than a sharp splinter of volcanic glass. The
volcanoes did some good, you see, in this land
which they burned dry forever; for in the same
cliff they put the soft stone in which any one
could cut a house, and nuggets of the ex-
tremely hard glass which the same eruption
had made, wherefrom to chip the prehistoric
knife.
In the beautifully picturesque canon of the
Rito de los Frigoles T is a very large village of
caves, which was deserted long centuries ago.
It has more than a thousand rooms dug from
the bright cliff; and outside were more rooms
yet, built of big cut bricks of the same rock,
but ic.i, fallen.
A few miles farther up the river are two
castle-buttes of tufa, rising high upon the top
of the plateau itself; and in these are hundreds
of other cave-houses-and on the top of the
largest cliff the ruins of a large square pueblo
built of cut blocks of the same convenient
stone.
In this same wild region, too, are the only
large stone idols (or, to speak more correctly,
fetishes) in the United States-the great
Mountain Lions of Cochiti, carved in high re-
lief from the solid bedrock on the tops of two
huge mesas. To this day the Indians of Co-
chiti before a hunt go to one of those almost
inaccessible spots, anoint the great stone heads,
and dance by night a wild dance which no
white man has seen or ever will see.


* "Painted Cave," so called from the strange pictographs or picture-writings in red ocher which
adorn its concave walls. t Table-lands. t Brook of the Beans.










THE ROBBER RAT AND THE POOR LITTLE KITTEN.
(For Very Little Folk.)

By KATHARINE PYLE.


I. III.


A KITTEN once lived all alone
In a little yellow house;
It lived on crusts of bread and cheese,
And now and then a mouse.


II.
A robber rat lived in a wood--
A gloomy wood--close by;
He had sharp teeth, and a pointed tail,
And a wicked, restless eye.


To the yellow house the rat would come,
And strike the door-knock! knock!
The kitten's tail would stand on end,
It gave him such a shock.


Then in the rat would boldly march.
"What have you here?" he'd say;
And then he would steal the bread and cheese,
Andcarry it all away.
793


4

<000







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


Now that you have had a little time to rest,
beloved hearers, we will see what our wise ones
have to communicate upon the really pressing
need of
A NATIONAL SONG.
FIRST let us give respectful attention to Brother
Rossiter Johnson who sends us "by particular re-
quest" a letter, part of which is here shown you:
ONE of the commonest of proverbial expressions
assumes that a song is the cheapest of all things; yet
the richest country on earth is without a national song.
Thirty years ago it offered six hundred dollars for one;
but the song was not forthcoming, though the condition
of affairs in our country seemed calculated to call forth
all the lyric energy that any poet possessed. And in-
deed a few fine poems were produced, but no song that
fairly claimed the prize.
We have the "Star-Spangled Banner," and sometimes
we sing it and make ourselves think we are enthusiastic;
but the least critical of us feels that it is too clumsy to
be a good song or a good poem; and I suspect it has a
fault even more radical than its uncouth rhythm. It is
not good art to make a picture of a picture, or to sym-
bolize a symbol. To illustrate this, hold up side by
side a photograph from an oil-painting, and one from
life. Though the American flag is to our eyes the most
beautiful of all one can find in a forest of shipping in
any great seaport, and though it represents the finest
country and the most progressive people on earth, and
though your heart sometimes comes to your throat when
you think what has been achieved under it, still, it is only
a picture and a symbol. No star-spangled rhymes, or
allegorical representation of Freedom tearing the sky
into,:strips of bunting, will ever make an effective and
enduring national song. When the song arrives, we
shall find that it somehow deals directly with the na-
tional power and destiny, not with any conventional
symbol or picture of it.
"Yankee Doodle" has its uses as a tune; but no
words that are not doggerel ever have been set to it,
and it is doubtful if any can be. Samuel Francis Smith
wrote .a respectable hymn beginning My Country, 't is


of Thee." But its candidacy for the place of national
song is killed at the outset by the fact that it is set to the
tune of another nation's hymn. Then, too, how should
we ask some millions of our citizens to sing Land
where My Fathers Died," when they left their fathers'
bones in various parts of Europe?--or how expect
much accent on "Land of the Pilgrims' Pride" from
the throats of those who take no pride in the pilgrims ?

That is n't a very encouraging view, is it ? The
Little Schoolma'am looked quite blue when she
had read this, but Deacon Green was n't at all
disturbed by it.
The Deacon says there is much truth in what
Brother Johnson has set forth, but there is also
something to be considered on the other side.
We do not ask everybody to join in our National
Song; but we ask to have such a song for those
who would like to express their patriotism melo-
diously and poetically.
If any who dwell in these United States do not
yet feel love and loyalty to the nation, they are not
yet citizens of this country, but merely sojourners
on our soil for their own ends. They are not even
adopted children until they will adopt in some
degree our national traditions, interests, hopes,
and enthusiasm.
Never fear. We can wait for the right song.
For temporary needs, we have created excellent
songs before now. And when the right song-
the national song-is written, there will be an
enthusiastic grand chorus of men, women, and
children to sing it. They will sing it with all
their hearts, too. If there happens to be a mental
reservation in a line or two, what harm does that
do, so long as the singer swells the great chorus
with full sympathy !
The Deacon is patriotic, you see. And mark how
the Little Schoolma'am is smiling again! I believe
the Deacon is right. My birds have criss-crossed
over the whole country, from Maine to Texas, and
their reports are most encouraging. So far as they
can see, the whole nation is sound not a cracked
place in it. "'When the right touch is given it
will respond with no uncertain melody," the Little
Schoolma'am says.
The Deacon and other elders have done quite
enough to introduce the fluttering batch of letters
piled around the pulpit. Let us turn to the younger
patriots.
Here is a strong letter from a regular Declara-
tion of Independence youngster:

DEAR JACK: It seems to me that "Yankee Doodle"
ought to be out of the question as the national hymn.
The tune is, I am pretty sure, an English one: "The
Rogue's March." And the words, as you know, were
written in derision. Not much of a combination for
Americans! Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean is the
English song, Britannia, the Gem of the Ocean," with
Columbia substituted for Britannia. Hail Columbia "
is an English air; and, though I am not positive, I think
is the English "Hail Britannia." "My Country, 't is
of Thee has for its music the English God Save the
Queen," the German Heil Kaiser dir," and the national
airs of several other countries. "The Star-Spangled
Banner," on the contrary, was written by a Continental
officer, Philip Key, I believe, and the music was by an


794








American also. So I should think that being entirely
American it ought to be the one for Americans, in pref-
erence to any of foreign origin.
Sincerely yours, H. L. D.
And here is something that the Deacon does not
attempt to dispute:
MISSOURI.
DEAR "JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT": In regard to your
question, "What is the National Hymn?" I reply-
My Country, 't is of Thee." "Yankee Doodle," "The
Star-Spangled Banner," or any of the others mentioned,
may be national airs, but I hardly think they are hymns,
because hymns are of a more sacred order.
MARY KELLOGG.

A bright letter signed A Patriot dismisses
"Yankee Doodle" with the remark, "I do not
think we want anything even verging on a comic
song "; it declares that the two Columbia songs are
not well enough known, and makes the usual ob-
jection to "My Country, 't is of Thee "- that it
is English. "The Star-Spangled Banner," the
writer claims, is "original, grand, well loved, and
well known. It is inspiring, and will draw cheers
quicker than any other patriotic tune. Whenever
I hear it, I am glad that I am an American, and,
like a small boy of my acquaintance, feel that I
should 'like to hug my country!'"
Among many other advocates of the same stir-
ring song are Ethel N. N., Nelly D. B., Algeria
Trude G., Lina Nyburg, Agnes, and Charlie G.,
Jr., who calls it the American Marseillaise. The
choir declaring for My Country, 't is of Thee"
are Robert O. C., "The Princess," A. C. G.,
Henrietta Slade, Alice J., Carrie E. Leinbach,
May H. F., Bessie A. Meyers, and Marguerite A.
Speckel, and the last mentioned makes a strong
argument for the song and quotes it in full. "Hail
Columbia" has the backing of Lewis G. W. and
Luellen D. Taylor, and Columbia, the Gem of
the Ocean has only one advocate this time.
A young lover of peace and concord makes a
novel proposition. She inquires why some one
cannot fit the words of "My Country, 't is of
Thee" to the music of The Star-Spangled Ban-
ner." Perhaps if she will seek some quiet place,
and try the effect of mixing the two very cau-
tiously, she will not insist upon an answer.
After a careful weighing of all the opinions pre-
sented, your JACK is inclined to consider "The Star-
Spangled Banner" as the strongest existing claim-
ant to the honor of being the National Song. But
the National Hymn does not seem to be yet settled
by our boys and girls. The Deacon says-and
I 'm inclined to think he is right-the National
Song is one thing and the National Hymn an-
other, and they should not be confounded. The
National Hymn should be to the same air in. all
countries, though the words may differ. The Lit-
tle Schoolma'am says that in Bayard Taylor's
" Song of the Camp," when the soldiers united
their voices,


1892.J


JACK-IN-T


HE-PULPIT. 795

Each heart recalled a different name,
But all sang Annie Laurie.' "

In singing a hymn, all men are brother men. But
in singing a national song, they are simply patriots.

"WHAT IS LOVE"
Now for a different problem. Here is the diffi-
cult question, What is Love? answered by Sylvia
K. E., and she ought to know, for she is eleven
years old:
WHAT is Love? How can I tell?
Ask the stars, they know as well;
Ask the waves that rise and fall;
See if they know, question them all.
If they know not, come again;
Maybe I can tell you then.

They can't tell you? Well, I can:
Love is not only found in man.
No! it comes from God alone-
Comes from him, the Corner-Stone.
See how freely it is given;
Surely it must come from Heaven.

Now we will take up another deep subject:

THE OCEAN.
THE average depth of the Atlantic Ocean, so the
Little Schoolma'am informs me, is two and a half
miles, or over 12,000 feet. Yet I know a pretty,
white-breasted gull who believes it is not over a few
inches deep. You see, he catches his fish right at,
or just below, the surface, and naturally, that 's all
he knows about it.

JUST before we separate, and you resume your
summer study of the ocean, the lakes, the rivers,
the woods, and outdoors generally, JACK wishes to
acknowledge three bright letters from May H. F.,
Ruth and Josephine S., and G. B., and to show
you a charming bit of verse sent you by Elizabeth
Hill:
TO A BUTTERFLY.
"BUTTERFLY,
Thou trifling thing,
Bright of color,
Light of wing,-
Hast thou, then, no other care
Than to ornament the air?
Hither, thither,
High and low,
Why and whither
Dost thou go? "
"From the garden to the hedge,
From the field-flower to the sedge,
I flutter, flutter everywhere.
Save to be fair
I have no care,-
An idler am I."
"0 fie! Ofie!
Hence, thou useless thing, away !
Nay! thou needed beauty,- stay! "













THE LETTER-BOX.


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magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.


EDITORIAL NOTES.

IN regard to signaling at sea, about which two stories
are printed this month, Captain Smith, author of "'What
News ?'-in Mid Ocean," sends some interesting facts.
The ancient galleys made signals by hoisting and lower-
ing sails, showing shields, or building bonfires. By the
thirteenth century flag-signals were invented, and by the
seventeenth century there was an attempt to form a code.
The International Code, which enables ships of all
nations and languages to exchange messages, was de-
vised by the British Government in 1856, and gradually
adopted by other nations -by the United States in 1871.
It is a great advantage of this system that the number
of flags in a single signal shows at once whether it is an
urgent or an ordinary message. For long distances,
where it would be difficult to see colors or patterns,
three flags or other objects, one round, one pointed like
a pennant, and one rectangular, may be used instead
of the pattern flags shown in the pictures given with
Captain Kennedy's story.
Boys might find it interesting and useful to invent sim-
ple codes and signals of their own, and may take a hint
from the marine boat-signals, in which two hats, two
handkerchiefs, and two planks, or long strips of any kind,
are used. Thus, a'sailor standing with his hat held up
so as to look round, and on his left another sailor hold-
ing the plank, means "You are running into danger."
The army-signals by the flag, and signaling by flashes
of a small mirror (an Indian invention), are also very
interesting.

BY an oversight, which we regret, the name of Miss
Helen Maitland Armstrong, the artist, was incorrectly
printed in the table of contents of the July ST. NICHOLAS.


ADELAIDE TERRACE, PERTH,
WESTERN AUSTRALIA.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write
and tell you about a very funny pony I saw the other
day. I was out riding, and we stopped at a little cottage
to get some water. As we drew our horses up at the door,
a little yellow pony came and poked its head into the
room. A woman, who was inside the house,-came up
to the pony and gave it a plate of meat (it looked like
hash), and the funny little creature began to eat it with
great relish. He evidently expected his meat supper
when he came and stuck his head in at the door. The
man who gave us the water to drink said that the pony
would eat anything, and would drink porter.
Your loving reader and well-wisher,
SANDRA C-.


SAN REMO, ITALY.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I will tell you about the Carni-
val. There were some girls on the parade by the sea,
selling violets. We bought some and put them in our
carriage to throw at people. The procession began at
one end of the town and went through to a piazza, where
it turned around. On either side of the street, the win-
dows, doorways, balconies, and stands were filled with
people who showered the carriages and coaches with
flowers and confetti as they passed. Some coaches were
beautifully decked with flowers, roses, daisies, or menoza-
blossoms. The people inside wore gay-colored dominoes
to match, and we pelted each other as we passed. There
are prizes awarded to the finest carriage and person on
foot. The former receives two thousand francs. As we
passed one stand, the confetti came so hard and fast that
the bottom of our carriage was covered. Some people
threw papers with mud in them, which were quite hard.
The balconies were often decked with bright-colored silks,
and the people wore dominoes to match.
Your interested reader, RICHARD R- .
P. S.-We await the ST. NICHOLAS the more eagerly,
because we are so far from home.


COMPTON, CANADA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little boy ten years old.
My sister takes ST. NICHOLAS. I have also two bro-
thers, and we all take a paper except myself.
Among our pets we have a dog whose name is Toby,"
which my brother and sister brought from Florida in a
basket, so you see he is a great pet.
Lately (not having been able to go out, it has been so
stormy) I have spent a great deal of my time in reading,
and I am very fond of Sir Walter Scott's novels; but
my brothers like Dickens better. I have already read
"Woodstock," Kenilworth," "Peveril of the Peak," and
I am now reading "Rob Roy."
One reason, perhaps, why I like Scott's books so well
is because there is so much history in them. I got a.
better idea of the Earl of Leicester in Kenilworth" than
I ever did in any history.
Believe me, dear ST. NICHOLAS, your faithful reader,
PHILIP A. H. K-


E. B.- Mr. Trowbridge has never, to our knowledge,.
published a sequel to "The Tinkham Brothers' Tide-
mill."

BOONE, IOWA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write you
how much I like your magazine. I gave my papa
" Over the Teacups," by Oliver Wendell Holmes, a year
ago last Christmas. It had the Broomstick Train; or,.
The Return of the Witches," and before they knew it I
had it all by heart; and they gave me a witch's spoon for
my birthday. I like Holmes's poetry very much.







THE LETTER-BOX.


I was very sick last winter, so that I did n't see any of
my friends for ten weeks. Papa is going to let me take
Delsarte lessons and German lessons because he will not
let me go to school. He is going to get me a pony, so
I can be outdoors in nice weather. I am so sorry for
the little girl that has been sick three years.
I want my papa to be a poet like Holmes, but papa
says poets are born, not made, so I think I have written
enough. From your friend, LOUISE R-- .

PARIS, FRANCE.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for a year
and seven months, and I like you very much; I am sure
you are the nicest magazine in the world.
We have a darling little dog called "Afrite"
(it is an Arab name); he is a little Blenheim,
and such a little beauty. He knows all sorts of
tricks ; he can die for his mistress, beg, ask, jump
over papa's leg, dance, and play hide-and-seek.
When he thinks some one is going to hurt his
mistress, he whines and cries like a baby. He
loves going out, and when he sees us putting on
our hats he begins howling and barking with joy.
One need only say, "Yes, dear, we are going you
know where," or simply, "Yes," or "Out," and j
he goes down-stairs to have his collar put on.
When he is out he runs like a wild thing after .
the birds.
My father is French and my mother is English, '
but she was born in Canada. I am twelve years ..,
old. -
From your admiring reader, "
MARIE DE B- .
BOSTON, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My home is in Halifax,
Nova Scotia, but I have been living in Boston for
nearly two years now, though I don't like it nearly as well
as Halifax. I have been at boarding-school now for about
four years, and like it much better than I do day-school.
A few summers ago my mother, my brother Louis,
and myself went to Bridgewater, N. S., for the summer.
We went by coach; and all the way along, on the roofs
of the houses, we saw haddock spread out in the sun to
dry. They looked so funny all spread open and lying
there salted, and ready to be called Finnan Haddy."
I like you very much and look forward every week to
reading you.
Your interested reader, MURIEL A- .


WEST POINT, N. Y.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have seen only one letter
from dear old West Point, so I thought I would write,
that you might hear oftener from this town.
We have the dearest pony that was ever born, and a
dear old cat that is just as good-natured as he can be.
I don't like to ride on the pony because lie has a very
rough gait, but I love to drive him when he does not
kick up too much.
What do you think I saw on St. Valentine's Day? I
saw some dear little bluebirds. I think that was pretty
early, don't you?
I am very much interested in your new story, "Tom
Paulding," and I am almost wild to know whether Tom
finds the hidden treasure. I like Two Girls and a Boy"
very much, too. I must stop my letter now.
I am your devoted reader, BETTY M- .

BLOOMINGDALE, N. Y.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl, and have
taken you three years, and like you very much.
We spent the winter in the Adirondack mountains for


797


my papa's health, who is an officer in the navy. The chief
sport here in winter is coasting. The hill which we coasted
on is about three quarters of a mile long. We used sleds
which are called travelers; they are made by putting a
sled at each end of a long board. It was fun when a
lot of us got on and rode down together. The coldest
it has been here is forty-two degrees below zero, and we
have had nearly three months of sleighing.
There was a little fawn which we went to see quite
often; it was caught in the mountains when it was only
a few weeks old. There was a bear seen in the village
last summer, and a guide tried to kill it, but it got away.
Good-by. Your constant reader and friend,
FANNIE G-.

FOR LITTLE FRENCH SCHOLARS.


*1''


5t Or"- ...
,19,






ji 5ir ^ U A ^ el l S 0
' "': "1


SANDWICH ISLANDS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: There are few islands as beauti-
ful as those lying far out in the Pacific Ocean. As you
near the islands you see the famous volcano Mauna
Loa, thirteen thousand feet in height. Half-way up this
mountain is Kilauea, the volcano which is one of the
most terrible and active of volcanoes. You may see
red-hot lava flowing for miles into the sea. In the Sand-
wich Islands are many beautiful mountains. Most of
the natives are half civilized. Hawaii, which is the
largest island in the Sandwich group, is about the size
of Connecticut, and the most beautiful. It is said that
Hawaii contains a river of lava ninety miles long.- Its
chief occupation is raising sugar, which grows in great
quantities. The Sandwich Islands were settled about
1775 by Captain Cook, who was afterward killed by the
natives. Honolulu has many beautiful residences. There
have been a few earthquakes, but not any very serious
ones. Among the races that live there are Americans,
Englishmen and Chinese. About one half of the whole
population are natives. There are beautiful sandy beaches
in Honolulu, and it is delightful to see the big waves dash
up on the shore. In the sand are small holes, and, if
you poke a stick into them, little crabs will come out and
run into the sea. There are a good many sharks in the
bay of Honolulu, which makes it dangerous for any one
to swim out very far. They are very bold, and will come
quite near a person. Honolulu is twenty-one hun-
dred miles from San Francisco. There are about one
hundred thousand tons of sugar raised every year. In
Hawaii there is a lake from which rises a cliff seventy
feet high, and the natives take pleasure in jumping
from it into the lake below. The bottom of this lake
has never been found. Hundreds of years ago the place
where this lake is was a volcano, but it got filled with
water. The missionaries came to the Sandwich Islands
in 1820. At that time the natives were not half civilized.







THE LETTER-BOX.


The natives thought that Kilauea was a goddess, and
that any one who went near her would be thrown into
the lake of red-hot lava by this goddess whose name was
"Pele." But the queen, when she heard the mission-
aries speak about Christ, thought the natives were wrong;
so, to prove it, she climbed the mountain and looked into
the crater, then she came down in safety. This changed
the natives' opinion; but some of them still think that
a goddess dwells in Kilauea.
I hope the ones who read this will have a chance to
see the Sandwich Islands. This was written by a boy
who lived there six years. KENNETH A-- .

HEDGEROW, WEST HILL,"
WELLSBORO, TIOGA Co., PA.
DEAR OLD ST. NICHOLAS: This afternoon I, the
youngest of six girls, have been having such a pleasant
time reading the last number of ST. NICHOLAS. We
have taken you ever since you were born, or rather ever
since there was any such magazine as ST. NICHOLAS,
and I think we shall take you until you or we die.
We have a very pleasant home here in northern Penn-
sylvania. We have animals, a tennis-court, which we
change into a skating-pond in the winter, and a lovely
orchard. In Mrs. Richards's story, When I Was Your
Age," I am very often reminded of how we play in our
orchard.
I have been to Washington two or three different win-
ters, and I think it must be the nicest city in the world,
but of course I do not know. Of all the interesting
things I saw there, I think I liked the National Mu-
seum almost the best. One day I went there alone, and
stayed all day taking notes on the curious old things.
Then I wrote a composition on them.
Mama says I am quite an athletic girl. I love to play
tennis, skate, swim, ride horseback, and take long walks.
I have walked seventeen miles in one day.
I am riot going to tell any of my family that I have
written this letter, because if it is printed I am going to
have it a surprise to them. Good-by.
SHIRLEY P--.

WASHINGTON, D. C.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In your last number I saw a
letter from a little girl who spends the summers at Mount
Vernon. I should think that would be lovely. I have
been down there, and we watch for it every time we go
down the river in the summer. It is very interesting to
know about the things we read about in the "Letter-
box." Some friends give you to us every Christmas.
We have taken you since 1887. There are six girls of us,
and we all read you, from the oldest down to myself. I
am fourteen.
On Washington's Birthday we went to a Colonial Re-
ception, where we met the Chinese Minister and his
secretary. The minister can't speak English, but the
secretary does very well and acts as interpreter. They
were very much interested in a little girl who was with
us (Senator Palmer's granddaughter), and talked to her
a great deal. A young lady offered the minister some
chocolate, which he immediately offered to the little girl.
She declined it, and the secretary explained that it is the
custom in their country, when they receive a present that
they appreciate, to give it to some one they like. When
they went away the'minister shook her hand and left in
it a half-eaten wafer which she is going to keep as a sou-
venir. He seemed to think it all very funny, and laughed
all the time. Both he and the secretary were in their
native dress, with their queues down their backs.
EUNICE R. 0-.


LOUISVILLE, KY.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am very fond of you, and we
have been taking you ever since I can remember. I am
now fourteen years old. I have something to tell you
which I think you would like to know, and hope you
will print it for the benefit of your many readers. In
school, the other day, one of my teachers said that the
sun was gradually losing its heat, and that Mars was
getting nearer and nearer to the sun, while we are get-
ting nearer to Mars. She said some astronomers think
Mars will drop into the sun and help to give light for about
seventy-five years, and then the earth will drop in, to
give light to the other planets. She told us that we look
to the stars as they do to us; she also said that astrono-
mers are trying to find out if Mars is inhabited, and that
if there is an atmosphere around the star it has life in it;
and if thereis vegetable life, there are generally people.
The astronomers think there is an atmosphere around
Mars, but have not made any telescope strong enough
to make certain their suspicion. I hope that none of us
will be living when the earth is burned up.
I remain your faithful reader, ELIZA B. McG- .

STONINGTON, CONN.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for seven
years, and have only written you once in all that time.
Some few months ago I saw a letter in the Letter-box "
from a girl (if I remember rightly), in which she men-
tioned having some original portraits by Rembrandt
Peale. I would like to say that he is my great-uncle
by marriage, and that we have a portrait of Washington,
painted by him, and taken from life; also several others,
members of our family. Mrs. Peale copied so well that
her husband said he could not tell her paintings from his
own. We have a picture of Martha Washington painted
by her, copied from one of Mr. Peale's.
Most of the girls and boys who write to you speak of
their pets. So I will tell you that we have a dear little kit-
ten whom we have trained to jump up on the music-box
which stands near the front door, every time she goes
out. We never let her out unless she does this. We also
have a pony which we enjoy very much. Although I
am quite a big girl I am not yet tired of your delightful
magazine. Your fond reader, RIETA W. B- .


WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: M. M. M., Ethel-
bert C., Winifred B., Leigh B., Mary F., Lallah St. J.,
M. M., Jessie M. W., Margie C., H. Lynne P., Helen
S. K., Janie P., Ruth S., Lottie B. C., R. E. S., Wm.
S. W., E. G. A., Martha T., M. K. S., M. E. C. and
H. W., Alice C. H., Harry C., Holly-hock," Terol, E.
L. B., Mabel and Margaret C., Edelherty and Dorris,
Florence H., Bessie C., R. C. S., E. C. M., Corinne W.,
Eleanor P. M., Anna N., P. I., Lowell W., Nancy W.
D., Hetty A., John W., Pansy F., Lena A. and Grace L.,
Florence and Elizabeth E., Lula D. and Ethel L., Elisa
E. W., Thomas B. Jr., Helen M., Winnie N., Harry
F. N., M. S. H., Margaret D. C., E. G. H., Nora C. U.,
"Blondie," Neely C. T., Beatrice F. M., Marguerite R.,
Muriel A., Albert J. W., A. P. W., Struthers B., Ethel
G., Elm, Inez L., Emily B., Estella S., Mary O'B.,
Edna C., Bessie K. F., A. M. F., Germaine J., Adelia
M. F., Edith Louise B., Norma L. C., Male L. F. B.,
Emily L. E., Geo. D. G., Albert C. S., W. J. C., Inez
P., M. C. V., Marion M., Charlotte and Alice, Josephine
McC., Ethel J., Angie R. C., May O'B., Lauretta S.,
Howard J. M., H. G., A. M. J., and Nathan A.















SCo


ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.
DOUBLE PRIMAL ACROSTIC. Freedom: liberty. Cross-words: ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS. I. P. 2. Met. 3. Me-
I. Florid. 2. Riddle. 3. Ebbing. 4. Eelpot. 5. Dragon. 6. Otiose. dea. 4. Pedants. 5. Tense. 6. Ate. 7. S. II. i. S. 2. Ner.
7. Mystic. 3. Noter. 4. Settled. 5. Relet. 6. Det(er). 7. D. III. S.
RHYMED WORD-SQUARE. I. Music. 2. Unite. 3. Siren. 4. Items. 2. Ear. 3. Ended. 4. Saddled. 5. Relay. 6. Dey. 7. D. IV. r. S.
5. Cense. 2. Bar. Baled. 4. Sallied. 5. Reign. 6. Den. 7. D. V.
ZIGZAG. The Nero of the North. Cross-words: I. Tea. 2. Aha. I. D. 2. Yes. 3. Yodel. 4. Deduced. 5. Sects. 6. Les(son).
3. Woe. 1. One. 5. Eke. 6. Ore. 7. Ago. 8. Foe. 9. Fly. 7. D. The sun han alm at summer's poise:
ro. Ate. "r. Ich. 12. Net. 3. Nab. 4. Cob. 15. Jar. 6. Ate. The sun hangrth s calm at shiummer's poised
:7. Hob.--ANAGRAM. Harriet Beecher Stowe. AThe earth lies bathed in shimmering noon,
17. Hob.- ANAGRAM. Harriet Beecher Stowe. At rest from all her cheerful noise,
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. "A Star for every State, and a State for With heartstrings silently in tune.
every Star." The time, how beautiful and dear,
A HEXAGON. Cross-words: i. Mast. 2. Asher. 3. Shamed. When early fruits begin to blush,
4. Templet. 5. Relate. 6. Deter. 7. Term. And the full leafage of the year
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Centrals, Helluo librorum. Cross-words: Sways o'er them with a sheltering hush.
I. acHes. 2. glEan. 3. caLyx. 4. taLly. 5.flUte. 6. shOck. DOUBLE ACROSTICS. I. New-ton. Cross-words: i. Newt.
7. daLly. 8. grill. 9. saBre. xo. baRds. Ii. wrOng. 12. stRay. 2. Echo. 3. Wren. II. Scot-land. Cross-words: i. Soil. 2. Coma.
13. glUme. 14. caMeo. 3. Open. 4. Tend.
DOUBLE WORD-SQUARE. Across: I. Oast. 2. Alto. 3. Roar. RHOMBOID. Across: I. Humic. 2. Sarah. 3. Tires. 4. Strap.
4. Sere. Downward: i. Oars. 2. Aloe. 3. Star. 4. Tore. 5. Sodom.- RIDDLE. A shoe.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the g5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS "Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May xgth, from Maude E. Palmer-Alice Mildred
Blankeand Co.-Paul Reese- Jo and I-"Guion Line and Alpha Slate Co."-Ida and Alice- Mama and Jamie-" Uncle Mung"-
Ida Carleton Thallon-Josephine Sherwood-" Leather-Stocking"-Blanche and Fred-E. Kellogg Trowbridge.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May x5th, from Janet R. C., I-Ada B. Lackler, --Grace
I. Shirley, x Carrie Chester, S. M. G., i-" Pickwick," i -"Only I," --Elaine S., 3-Minnie and Lizzie, i -Genevieve B.
Mattingly, i Sarah and Jennie, i Charlotte, i-Beatrice F. M., i Eleanor White, I Toby T., Jr., and Tom P., Jr., 2- Charles
S. Townsend, 4- Eleanor White, Lena Quinn, i- Vinnie Hongley, 1 -" Lillian A.," r -M. Farrister and M. E. Breed, Lewis
Don, I Nag6 Rheatan, 2 Elizabeth C. Grant, x Eleanor Ogier, z Effie K. Talboys, 8 Louise and Beth, i -Jas. R. Sharp, 9 -
Gwendolen-iReid, 3 -L. O;.E., a4-Edith -Woodward, 4-Hubert L. Bingay, ix-Mabel and Aunty, 14-Sarah E. Schuyler, i-
Nellie M. Archer, 5- Rosalind Mitchell, 4-Dora and Violet Hereford, 6- Julia Johnson, Mama and Marion, 4- Emily Good-
nough, 3 -E. M. G., 14-We Girls, io-No Name, New York, 3 Harry and Mama, 9- Helen S. Coates, 7- Laura M. Zinser, 3-
Cornelia Wilcox, 14-" Two Girls." o -" May and '79," 9 Charles H. Munch, 2 Harry Day Brigham, 4 Nellie L. Howes, 7-
"Two Big Confederates," io-E. K., 2-"Three Blind Mice." 6-Rosalie Bloomingdale, 7-Anna A. Crane, 4-Mama and
M. H., 2-Jessie Chapman, 4-Clhra B. Emerton, 2.


WORD-SQUARES.
I. I. THE flower of a plant. 2. Extensive. 3. The
path described by a heavenly body. 4. The arch which
crosses a Gothic vault diagonally. 5. Rhythm.
II. I. The. ground where a battle is fought. 2. To
furnish. 3. That which is educed. 4. Riches. 5. To
hinder.
The first words of these two squares, when connected,
will form the name of an English poet.
FRANK SELLING.
ANAGRAIM.
A FAMOUS novelist:
I WHACK 'EM REALLY I PAT-A-CAKE 'EM!

PI.
EHT yowell gledon-dor si desserd
Ni agal-yda ratite;
Het gongwil drewdee yb eht nefce
Sishen kile a onscrim rife;
Dan rofm het oth defsil hatfrest dege
Het scrikcet fost franeri
Thiw molwel cantce stell eht late
Hatt sugtau's ereh naiga.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
MY primals spell the name of an admiral who died in
August, 1870; and my finals spell the name of a general
who was born in August, 1769.


CROSS-WORDs (of equal length): i. Model. 2. One
of the United States. 3. A device for catching certain
rodents. 4. A round building. 5. A headland. 6. Closely
allied. 7. To endure. 8. A liquid measure, formerly
used for wine, equal to one third of a tun.
F. S. F.
CONNECTED SQUARES.


I. UPPER SQUARE: I. A shell-fish. 2. To run
swiftly. 3. Pain. 4. A beverage.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: I. A dull color. 2. To
efface. 3. One of the great divisions of the globe. 4. To
shine
III. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. Part of a plant. 2. An
imaginary monster. 3. Minerals. 4. A critical trial.
IV. LOWER SQUARE: I. A place of trade. 2. Sur-
face. 3. To raise. 4. Sharp. A. P. C. A.


0 1








THE RIDDLE-BOX.


NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I AM composed of ninety-nine letters, and am a quota-
tion from an address by David Dudley Field.
My 64-23-56-12 is of great size. My 48-94-36-70-83
is a popular game. My 2-40-88 is to fight with the fist.
My 80-75-19-73 is a joke. My 31-6-34-44 is money.
My 16-27-86 is to cover with frosting. My 77-98-38-
92-52 is to blight. My 54 is a letter that is much used.
My 67-11-20-58 is one of the United States. My 8-84-
42 is a cover. My 29-61-45-89-49 is to cut into thin
pieces. My 15-65-24-5 are worn by all, and my 32-9-
74-79-63-46 is the material of which they are often made.
My 22-60-69-99 is a prison. My 82-25-72-96 is the
main stock. My 14-1-91-85 is soapstone. My 35-26-
17-47-87 is to burn slightly. My 59-68-41-55-21 is
worthless matter. My 4-50-7-81-97-71-51-28 is costly.
My 37-93-78-10-43-95-13 is to stammer. My 53-30-
66-39-90-76 is a craving for food. My 18-57-3-62-33
is a name for any one who cannot guess this enigma.
0. B. G.
AN OCTAGON.
I. To weaken. 2. Caustic. 3. To disperse. 4. A
literary composition. 5. Hurled. 6. A term used by
printers which means erases." 7. A color. c.

WORD-BUILDING.
I. A vowel. 2. A preposition. 3. A useful metal.
4. A prong. 5. To dye. 6. Measuring. 7. Denomi-
nating. 8. Deserving. 9. Relaxing.
ELDRED JUNGERICH.

GEOGRAPHICAL CUBE.
I 2


5 6



3 4



7 8

FROM I to 2, a city of Belgium; from I to 3, a city of
northern Africa; from 2 to 4, a river of the United States ;
from 3 to 4, the name of a river and two lakes in the
State of New York; from 5 to 6, the capital of the Philip-
pine Islands ; from 5 to 7, a province of the Austrian
Empire; from 6 to 8, the capital of one of the Southern


States; from 7 to 8, a fortified town of Portugal; from
I to 5, a kingdom of Asia under French protection;
from 2 to 6, a seaport city of Brazil; from 4 to 8, a large
island; from 3 to 7, a city of Arabia. M. A. S.
HOLLOW STAR.
4



I 2







5 6


3
FROM I to 2, a harsh, shrill noise; from I to 3, bur-
dened; from 2 to 3, rehearsed; from 4 to 5, ridiculed;
from 4 to 6, inferred; from 5 to 6, erased.
"ANNA CONDOR."
RHOMBOID.
ACROSS: I. Illustrious. 2. A relative. 3. To fool
away time. 4. A kind of cement. 5. Concise.
DOWNWARD: I. In knife. 2. A preposition. 3. To
command. 4. To spring. 5. Splendor. 6. Besides.
7. Transposed, to endeavor.' 8. A German pronoun.
9, In knife. ALICE C. C.
CENTRAL ACROSTIC.
ALL of the words described contain the same number
of letters. When placed one below the other, in the
order here given, what will the central letters form ?
CROSS-WORDS : I. The outline of the country by the
sea. 2. A large, strong rope. 3. A bird allied to the
parrot. 4. A portable, covered el..l:l- f:r one person.
5. A large piece of paper. 6. A i-ir, c5l.e. 7. Correct.
8. Not the same. 9. Alert. IO. A native Indian prince.
II. Furnished with a pike. 12. An autumn fruit.
13. Habitations. 14. To flinch. 15. To move about with
hesitation. 16. Superior. 17. Irritation. 18. A pink
substance sometimes found in a lady's jewel-box. 19. To
turn over. 20. To change. 21. The buccal cavity.
22. Very unusual. 23. An arbor. 24. A pugilist.
25. Faithful. 26. A sharp instrument for cutting.
ZUAR."


THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.


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