Front Cover
 Mowgli's brothers
 St. Augustine
 Snap-shots by Santa Claus
 How paper money is made
 The little man of Morrisburg
 Recollections of the wild life
 The pop-corn man
 Travelers of the sky
 A bird's-eye view of the animal...
 The witch in the candle
 Palmer Cox and the brownies
 The brownies through the union
 A coasting song
 A watchword for the new year
 Ethel's discovery
 A serious question in mathemat...
 Tom Sawyer abroad
 The wise little woman who opened...
 Toinette's Philip
 How the secretary of the treasury...
 The little people from Java
 Christmas bells
 A topsyturvy concert
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00278
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00278
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
        Page 194
    Mowgli's brothers
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
    St. Augustine
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
    Snap-shots by Santa Claus
        Page 215
        Page 216
    How paper money is made
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
    The little man of Morrisburg
        Page 225
    Recollections of the wild life
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
    The pop-corn man
        Page 229
    Travelers of the sky
        Page 230
    A bird's-eye view of the animal kingdom
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
    The witch in the candle
        Page 238
    Palmer Cox and the brownies
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
    The brownies through the union
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
    A coasting song
        Page 247
    A watchword for the new year
        Page 248
    Ethel's discovery
        Page 248
        Page 249
    A serious question in mathematics
        Page 250
    Tom Sawyer abroad
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
    The wise little woman who opened the pews
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
    Toinette's Philip
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
    How the secretary of the treasury once played Santa Claus
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
    The little people from Java
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
    Christmas bells
        Page 282
        Page 283
    A topsyturvy concert
        Page 284
    The letter-box
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
    The riddle-box
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


"P~~1 I~J~ t~"s~rs gmomI~1~ I "

V~ !:~



t T44

1 74''''



JANUARY, 1894.
Copyright, 1893, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.



No. 3.

IT was seven o'clock of a very warm even-
ing in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf
woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself,
yawned, and spread out his paws one after
the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in
their tips. Mother Wolf lay with her big gray
nose dropped across her four tumbling, squeal-
ing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth
of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!"
said Father Wolf, "it is time to hunt again";
and he was going to spring down hill when
a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the
threshold and whined: Good luck go with
you, 0 Chief of the Wolves; and good luck
and strong white teeth go with the noble
children, that they may never forget the hungry
in this world."
It was the jackal--Tabaqui, the Dish-licker-
and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui be-
cause he runs about making mischief, and tell-
ing tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather
from the village rubbish-heaps. But they are
afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than
any one else in the jungle, is apt to go mad,
and then he forgets that he was ever afraid
of any one, and runs through the forest biting
everything in his way. Even the tiger runs
and hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for
madness is the most disgraceful thing that can

overtake a wild creature. We call it hydro-
phobia, but they call it dewanee-the mad-
ness- and run.
"Enter, then, and look," said Father Wolf,
stiffly; "but there is no food here."
"For a wolf, no," said Tabaqui; "but for so
mean a person as myself a dry bone is a good
feast. Who are we, the Gidur-log [the jackal
people], to pick and choose?" He scuttled
to the back of the cave, where he found the
bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat
cracking the end merrily.
"All thanks for this good meal," he said,
licking his lips. How beautiful are the noble
children! How large are their eyes! And so
young too! Indeed, indeed, I might have re-
membered that the children of kings are men
from the beginning."
Now, Tabaqui knew as well as any one else
that there is nothing so unlucky as to compli-
ment children to their faces; and it pleased him
to see Mother and Father Wolf look uncom-
Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief
that he had made, and then he said spite-
Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his
hunting-grounds. He will hunt among these
hills for the next moon, so he has told me."



Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the
Waingunga River, twenty miles away.
He has no right! Father Wolf began an-
grily-" By the Law of the Jungle he has no
right to change his quarters without due warning.
He will frighten every head of game within ten
miles, and I-I have to kill for two, these days."

Shere Khan below in the thickets. I might
have saved myself the message."
Father Wolf listened, and below in the valley
that ran down to a little river, he heard the
dry, angry, snarly, singsong whine of a tiger
who has caught nothing and does not care if
all the jungle knows it.


"His mother did not call him Lungri [the
Lame One] for nothing," said Mother Wolf,
quietly. "He has been lame in one foot from
his birth. That is why he has only killed cattle.
Now the villagers of the Waingunga are angry
with him, and he has come here to make our
villagers angry. They will scour the jungle for
him when he is far away, and we and our chil-
dren must run when the grass is set alight. In-
deed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan!"
"Shall I tell him of your gratitude? said
"Out!" snapped Father Wolf. "Out and
hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm
enough for one night."
I go," said Tabaqui, quietly. Ye can hear

"The fool!" said Father Wolf. "To begin
a night's work with that noise! Does he think
that our buck are like his fat Waingunga.
"H'sh! It is neither bullock nor buck he
hunts to-night," said Mother Wolf. It is
Man." The whine had changed to a sort of
humming purr that seemed to come from every
quarter of the compass. It was the noise that
bewilders wood-cutters and gipsies sleeping in
the open, and makes them run sometimes into
the very mouth of the tiger.
"Man!" said Father Wolf, showing all his
white teeth. Faugh! Are there not enough
beetles and frogs in the tanks that he must eat
Man, and on our ground too "


The Law of the Jungle, which never orders
anything without a reason, forbids every beast to
eat Man except when he is killing to show his
children how to kill, and then he must hunt out-
side the hunting-grounds of his pack or tribe.
The real reason for this is that man-killing
means, sooner or later, the arrival of white men
on elephants, with guns, and hundreds of brown
men with gongs and rockets and torches. Then
everybody in the jungle suffers. The reason
the beasts give among themselves is that Man
is the weakest and most defenseless of all living
things, and it is unsportsmanlike to touch him.
They say too-and it is true-that man-eaters
become mangy, and lose their teeth.
The purr grew louder,, and ended in the full-
throated Aaarh!" of the tiger's charge.
Then there was a howl--an untigerish
howl-from Shere Khan. "He has missed,"
said Mother Wolf. "What is it?"
Father Wolf ran out a few paces and heard
Shere Khan muttering and mumbling savagely,
as he tumbled about in the scrub.
"The fool has had no more sense than to
jump at a woodcutters' camp-fire, and has
burned his feet," said Father Wolf, with a
grunt. "Tabaqui is with him."
"Something is coming up hill," said Mother
Wolf, twitching one ear. Get ready."
The bushes rustled a little in the thicket, and
Father Wolf dropped with his haunches under
him, ready for his leap. Then, if you had been
watching, you would have seen the most won-
derful thing in the world-the wolf checked in
mid-spring. He madehis bound before he saw
what it was he was jumping at, and then he tried
to stop himself. The result was that he shot up
straight into the air for four or five feet, landing
almost where he left ground.
"Man!"he snapped. "Aman's cub. Look!"
Directly in front of him, holding on by a low
branch, stood a naked brown baby who could
just walk-as soft and as dimpled a little atom
as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He
looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed.
"Is that a man's cub ? said Mother Wolf.
" I have never seen one. Bring it here."
A wolf accustomed to moving his own cubs
can, if necessary, mouth an egg without break-
ing it, and though Father Wolf's jaws closed

right on the child's back not a tooth even dented
the skin, as he laid it down among the cubs.
"How little! How naked, and-how bold!"
said Mother Wolf, softly. The baby was push-
ing his way between the cubs to get close to
the warm hide. "Ahai! He is taking his
meal with the others. And so this is a man's
cub. Now, was there ever a wolf that could
boast of a man's cub among her children?"
"I have heard now and again of such a
thing, but never in our Pack or in my time,"
said Father Wolf. He is altogether without
hair, and I could kill him with a touch of my
foot. But see, he looks up and is not afraid."
The moonlight was blocked out of the mouth
of the cave, for Shere Khan's great square
head and shoulders were thrust into the en-
trance. Tabaqui, behind him, was squeaking:
"My Lord, my Lord, it went in here!"
"Shere Khan does us great honor," said
Father Wolf, but his eyes were very angry.
"What does Shere Khan need?"
"My quarry. A man's cub went this way,"
said Shere Khan. "Its parents have run off.
Give it to me."
Shere Khan had jumped at a woodcutters'
camp-fire, as Father Wolf had said, and was
furious from the pain of his burned feet. But
Father Wolf knew that the mouth of the cave
was too narrow for a tiger to come in by. Even
where he was, Shere Khan's shoulders and fore
paws were cramped for want of room, as a man's
would be if he tried to fight in a barrel.
The Wolves are a free people," said Father
Wolf. "They take orders from the Head of the
Pack, and not from any striped cattle-killer.
The man's cub is ours-to kill if we choose."
Ye choose and ye do not choose! What talk
is this of choosing ? By the bull that I killed,
am I to stand nosing into your dog's den for my
fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speak!"
The tiger's roar filled the cave with thunder.
Mother Wolf shook herself clear of the cubs
and sprang forward, her eyes, like two green
moons in the darkness, facing the blazing eyes
of Shere Khan.
"And it is I, Raksha [that means The De-
mon], who answer. The man's cub is mine,
Lungri mine to me! He shall not be killed.
He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt


with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter
of little naked cubs frog-eater- fish-killer -
he shall hunt thee! Now get hence, or by the
Sambhur that I killed (I eat no starved cattle),
back thou goest to thy mother, burned beast of
the jungle, lamer than ever thou camest into the
world! Go!"
Father Wolf looked on amazed. He had
almost forgotten the days when he won
Mother Wolf in fair fight from five other
wolves, when she ran in the Pack and was not
called The Demon for compliment's sake.
Shere Khan might have faced Father Wolf,
but he could not stand up against Mother
Wolf, for he knew that where he was she had
all the advantage of the ground, and would

of man-cubs. The cub is mine, and into my
teeth he will come in the end, O bush-tailed
Mother Wolf threw herself down panting
among the cubs, and Father Wolf said to her
"Shere Khan speaks this much truth. The
cub must be shown to the Pack. Wilt thou
still keep him, Mother ?"
Keep him! she gasped. "He came naked,
by night, alone and very hungry; yet he was
not afraid t Look, he has pushed one of my
babes to one side already. And that lame
butcher would have killed him and would have
run off to the Waingunga while the villagers
here hunted through all our lairs in revenge!


fight to the death. So he backed out of the Keep him? Assuredly I will keep him.-Lie
cave-mouth growling, and when he was clear still, little frog. O thou Mowgli,-for Mowgli
he shouted: the Frog I will call thee,-the time will come
"Each dog barks in his own kennel! We when thou wilt hunt Shere Khan as he has
will see what the Pack will say to this fostering hunted thee."


But what will our Pack say ?" said Father been beaten and left for dead; so he knew the
Wolf. manners and customs of men. There was
The Law of the Jungle lays down very clearly very little talking at the rock. The cubs tum-
that any wolf may, when he marries, with- bled over each other in the center of the circle
draw from the Pack he belongs to; but as soon where their mothers and fathers sat, and now
as his cubs are old
enough to stand on. :.
their feet he must -.'
bring them to the i 4
Pack Council, which .' lett ,.
is generally held once'
a month at full moon,
in order that the other
wolves may identify
them. After that in- 2
section the cubs are
free to run where they
please, and until they j a
have killed their first
buck no excuse is ac- ? 2
cepted it a groin wolf T
of the Pack kills one I
of them. The punish- ea
ment is death where I., d
the murderer can be /
found; and if you "4.
think for a minute you
will see that this must
be so.
Father Wolf waited
till his cubs could run
a little, and then on / $
the night of the*Pack I
Meetingtookthemand A,
Mowgli and Mother
Wolf to the Council .
Rock a hilltop cov-
ered with stones and
boulders where a hun- /
dred wolves could
gray Lone Wolf, who
led all the Pack by strength and cunning, lay and again a senior wolf would go quietly up
out at full length on his rock, and below him to a cub, look at him carefully, and return
sat forty or more wolves of every size and color, to his place on noiseless feet. Sometimes a
from badger-colored veterans who could handle mother would push her cub well out into the
a buck alone, to young black three-year-olds moonlight, to be sure that he had not been
who thought they could. The Lone Wolf had overlooked. Akela from his rock would cry:
led them for a year now. He had fallen twice "Ye know the Law-ye know the Law. Look
into a wolf-trap in his youth, and once he had well, 0 Wolves!" and the anxious mothers


would take up the call: Look -look well,
0 Wolves !"
At last-and Mother Wolf's neck-bristles
lifted as the time came-Father Wolf pushed
" Mowgli the Frog," as they called him, into
the center, where he sat laughing and play-
ing with some pebbles that glistened in the
Akela never raised his head from his paws,

is any dispute as to the right of a cub to be ac-
cepted by the Pack, he must be spoken for by
at least two members of the Pack who are not
his father and mother.
Who speaks for this cub?" said Akela.
"Among the Free People who speaks?"
There was no answer, and Mother Wolf got
ready for what she knew would be her last
fight, if things came to fighting.


but went on with the monotonous cry: Look
well!" A muffled roar came up from behind
the rocks -the voice of Shere Khan crying:
" The cub is mine. Give him to me. What have
the Free People to do with a man's cub ?"
Akela never even twitched his ears: all he said
was: Look well, 0 Wolves! What have the
Free People to do with the orders of any save
the Free People? Look well! "
There was a chorus of deep growls, and a
young wolf in his fourth year flung back Shere
Khan's question to Akela: "What have the
Free People to do with a man's cub? Now
the Law of the Jungle lays down that if there

Then the only other creature who is allowed
at the Pack Council-Baloo, the sleepy brown
bear who teaches the wolf cubs the Law of the
Jungle: old Baloo, who can come and go
where he pleases because he eats only nuts and
roots and honey-rose up on his hind quarters
and grunted.
The man's cub-the man's cub ? he said.
"Ispeak for the man's cub. There is no harm
in a man's cub. I have no gift of words, but I
speak the truth. Let him run with the Pack,
and be entered with the others. I myself will
teach him."
"We need yet another," said Akela. Baloo


-, -,~- A-


has spoken, and he is our teacher for the young
cubs. Who speaks beside Baloo ? "
A black shadow dropped down into the cir-
cle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky
black all over, but with the panther-markings
showing up in certain lights like the pattern of
watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and
nobody cared to cross his path; for he was as
cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo,
and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But
he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping
from a tree, and a skin softer than down.
O0 Akela, and ye the Free People," he
purred, I have no right in your assembly; but
the Law of the Jungle says that if there is
a doubt which is not a killing matter in regard
to a new cub, the life of that cub may be
bought at a price. And the Law does not say
who may or may not pay that price. Am I
right ?"
"Good! good! said the young wolves, who
are always hungry. "Listen to Bagheera. The
cub can be bought for a price. It is the Law."
"Knowing that I have no right to speak
here, I ask your leave."
"Speak then," cried twenty voices.
"To kill a naked cub is shame. Besides, he
-may make better sport for you when he is
grown. Baloo has spoken in his behalf. Now
to Baloo's word I will add one bull, and a fat
one, newly killed, not half a mile from here, if
ye will accept the man's cub according to the
Law. Is it difficult?"
There was a clamor of scores of voices, say-
ing: "What matter? He will die in the winter
rains. He will scorch in the sun. What harm
can a naked frog do us? Let him run with the
Pack. Where is the bull, Bagheera? Let him
be accepted." And then came Akela's deep bay
crying: "Look well-look well, O Wolves!"
Mowgli was still deeply interested in the
pebbles, and he did not notice when the wolves
came and looked at him one by one. At last
they all went down the hill for the dead bull,
and only Akela, Bagheera, Baloo, and Mowgli's
own wolves were left. Shere Khan roared still
in the night, for he was very angry that Mowgli
had not been handed over to him.
"Aye, roar well," said Bagheera, under his
whiskers. For the time comes when this naked
VOL. XXI.-26.

thing will make thee roar to another tune, or I
know nothing of man."
It was well done," said Akela. Men and
their cubs are very wise. He may be a help in
"Truly, a help in time of need; for none
can hope to lead the Pack forever," said
Akela said nothing. He was thinking of the
time that comes to every leader of every pack
when his strength goes from him and he gets
feebler and feebler, till at last he is killed by the
wolves and a new leader comes up-to be
killed in his turn.
Take him away," he said to Father Wolf,
"and train him as befits one of the Free People."
And that is how Mowgli was entered into
the Seeonee wolf-pack for the price of a bull
and on Baloo's good word.
Now you must be content to skip ten or
eleven whole years, and only guess at all the
wonderful life that Mowgli led among the
wolves, because if it were written out it would
fill ever so many books. He grew up with the
cubs, though they of course were grown wolves
almost before he was a child, and Father Wolf
taught him his business and the meaning of
things in the jungle till every rustle in the
grass, every breath of the warm night air,
every note of the owls above his head, every
scratch of a bat's claws as it roosted for a while
in a tree, and every splash of every little fish
jumping in a pool, meant just as much to him
as the work of his office means to a business
man. When he was not learning he sat out
in the sun and slept, and ate and went to sleep
again; when he felt dirty or hot he swam in
the forest pools; and when he wanted honey
(Baloo told him that honey and nuts were just
as pleasant to eat as raw meat) he climbed up
for it, and that Bagheera showed him how to
do. Bagheera would lie out on a branch and
call, Come along, Little Brother," and at first
Mowgli would cling like the sloth, but after-
ward he would fling himself through the
branches almost as boldly as the gray ape.
He took his place at the Council Rock, too,
when the Pack met, and there he discovered
that if he stared hard at any wolf, the wolf




would be forced to drop his eyes, and so he
used to stare for fun. At other times he would
pick the long thorns out of the pads of his
friends, for wolves suffer terribly from thorns
and burs in their coats. He would go down
the hillside into the cultivated lands by night,
and look very curiously at the villagers in their
huts, but he had a mistrust of men because
Bagheera showed him a square box with a drop-
gate so cunningly hidden in the jungle that he
nearly walked into it, and told him that it was
a trap. He loved better than anything else to
go with Bagheera into the dark warm heart of
the forest, to sleep all through the drowsy day
and at night see how Bagheera did his killing.
Bagheera killed right and left as he felt hungry,
and so did Mowgli-with one exception. As
soon as he was old enough to understand things,
Bagheera told him that he must never touch
cattle because he had been bought into the
Pack at the price of a bull's life. "All the
jungle is thine," said Bagheera, and thou
canst kill everything that thou art strong
enough to kill; but for the sake of the bull
that bought thee thou must never kill or eat
any cattle young or old. That is the Law of
the Jungle." Mowgli obeyed faithfully.
And he grew and grew strong as a boy must
grow who does not know that he is learning
any lessons, and who has nothing in the world
to think of except things to eat.
Mother Wolf told him once or twice that
Shere Khan was not a creature to be trusted,
and that some day he must kill Shere Khan;
but though a young wolf would have remem-
bered that advice every hour, Mowgli forgot it
because he was only a boy-though he would
have called himself a wolf if he had been able
to speak in any human tongue.
Shere Khan was always crossing his path in
the jungle, for as Akela grew older and feebler
the lame tiger had come to be great friends
with the younger wolves of the Pack, who fol-
lowed him for scraps, a thing Akela would
never have allowed if he had dared to push
his authority to the proper bounds. Then
Shere Khan would flatter them and wonder
that such fine young hunters were content to
be led by a dying wolf and a man's cub.
" They tell me," Shere Khan would say, that

at Council ye dare not look him between the
eyes"; and the young wolves would growl and
Bagheera, who had eyes and ears every-
where, knew something of this, and once or
twice he told Mowgli in so many words that
Shere Khan would kill him some day; and
Mowgli would laugh and answer, I have the
Pack and I have thee; and Baloo, though he
is so lazy, might strike a blow or two for my
sake. Why should I be afraid?"
It was one very warm day that a new notion
came. to Bagheera-born of something that he
had heard. Perhaps Ikki the Porcupine had
told him; but he said to Mowgli when they
were deep in the jungle, as the boy lay with
his head on Bagheera's beautiful black skin:
"Little Brother, how often have I told thee
that Shere Khan is thy enemy ?"
"As many times as there are nuts on that
palm," said Mowgli, who, naturally, could not
count. What of it ? I am sleepy, Bagheera,
and Shere Khan is all long tail and loud talk-
like Mao the Peacock."
"But this is no time for sleeping. Baloo
knows it; I know it; the Pack know it; and
even the foolish, foolish deer know. Tabaqui
has told thee, too."
Ho Ho! said Mowgli. Tabaqui came
to me not long ago with some rude talk that I
was a naked man's cub and not fit to dig pig-
nuts; but I caught Tabaqui by the tail and
swung him twice against a palm-tree to teach
him better manners."
"That was foolishness; for though Tabaqui
is a mischief-maker,he would have told thee of
something that concerned thee closely. Open
those eyes, Little Brother. Shere Khan dares
not kill thee in the jungle; but remember, Akela
is very old, and soon the day comes when he
cannot kill his buck, and then he will be leader
no more. Many of the wolves that looked thee
over when thou wast brought to the Council
first are old too, and the young wolves believe,
as Shere Khan has taught them, that a man-cub
has no place with the Pack. In a little time
thou wilt be a man."
"And what is a man that he should not
run with his brothers ? said Mowgli. I was
born in the jungle. I have obeyed the Law of


the Jungle, and there is no wolf of ours from
whose paws I have not pulled a thorn. Surely
they are my brothers !"
Bagheera stretched himself at full length
and half shut his eyes. "Little Brother," said
he, "feel under my jaw."
Mowgli put up his strong brown hand, and
just under Bagheera's silky chin, where the
giant rolling muscles were all hid by the glossy
hair, he came upon a little bald spot.
"There is no one in the jungle that knows
that I, Bagheera, carry that mark-the mark
of the collar; and yet, Little Brother, I was
born among men, and it was among men that
my mother died-in the cages of the King's
Palace at Oodeypore. It was because of this
that I paid the price for thee at the Council
when thou wast a little naked cub. Yes, I too
was born among men. I had never seen the
jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron
pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera-
the Panther-and no man's plaything, and I
broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw
and came away; and because I had learned
the ways of men, I became more terrible in the
jungle than Shere Khan. Is it not so ? "
"Yes," said Mowgli; "all the jungle fear
Bagheera-all except Mowgli."
Oh, thou art a man's cub," said the Black
Panther, very tenderly; and even as I returned
to my jungle, so thou must go back to men at
last,-to the men who are thy brothers,-if
thou art not killed in the Council."
"But why-but why should any wish to kill
me ?" said Mowgli.
"Look at me," said Bagheera; and Mowgli
looked at him steadily between the eyes. The
big panther turned his head away, in half a
That is why," he said, shifting his paw on
the leaves. "Not even I can look thee be-
tween the eyes, and I was born among men,
and I love thee, Little Brother. The others
they hate thee because their eyes cannot meet
thine; because thou art wise; because thou
hast pulled out thorns from their feet-because
thou art a man."
"I did not know these things," said Mowgli,
sullenly; and he frowned under his heavy black

"What is the Law of the Jungle? Strike
first and then give tongue. By thy very care-
lessness they know that thou art a man. But be
wise. It is in my heart that when Akela misses
his next kill,-and at each hunt it costs him
more to pin the buck,-the Pack will turn
against him and against thee. They will hold
a jungle Council at the Rock, and then-and
then-I have it!" said Bagheera, leaping up.
"Go thou down quickly to the men's huts in
the valley, and take some of the Red Flower
which they grow there, so that when the time
comes thou mayest have even a stronger friend
than I or Baloo or those of the Pack that love
thee. Get the Red Flower."
By Red Flower Bagheera meant fire, only
no creature in the jungle will call fire by its
proper name. Every beast lives in deadly fear
of it, and invents a hundred ways of describ-
ing it.
"The Red Flower ?" said Mowgli. "That
grows outside their huts in the twilight. I will
get some."
"There speaks the man's cub," said Ba-
gheera, proudly. "Remember that it grows in
little pots. Get one swiftly, and keep it by
thee for time of need."
"Good!" said Mowgli. "I go. But art
thou sure, O my Bagheera"-he slipped his
arm round the splendid neck, and looked deep
into the big eyes-"art thou sure that all this
is Shere Khan's doing?"
"By the broken lock that freed me, I am
sure, Little Brother."
"Then, by the bull that bought me, I will
pay Shere Khan full tale for this, and it may be
a little over," said Mowgli; and he bounded
"That is a man. That is all a man," said
Bagheera to himself, lying down again. Oh,
Shere Khan, never was a blacker hunting than
that frog-hunt of thine ten years ago!"
Mowgli was far and far through the forest,
running hard, and his heart was hot- in him.
He came to the cave as the evening mist rose,
and drew breath, and looked down the valley.
The cubs were out, but Mother Wolf, at the
back of the cave, knew by his breathing that
something was troubling her frog.
What is it, Son ? she said.


"Some bat's chatter of Shere Khan," he
called back. "I hunt among the plowed
fields to-night"; and he plunged downward
through the bushes, to the stream at the bot-
tom of the valley. There he checked, for he
heard the yell of the Pack hunting, heard the
bellow of a hunted Sambhur, and the snort as
the buck turned at bay. Then there were
wicked, bitter howls from the young wolves:
"Akela! Akela! Let the Lone Wolf show
his strength. Room for the leader of the Pack!
Spring, Akela! "
The Lone Wolf must have sprung and
missed his hold, for Mowgli heard the snap
of his teeth and then a yelp as the Sambhur
knocked him over with his fore foot.
He did not wait for anything more, but
dashed on; and the yells grew fainter behind
him as he ran into the crop-lands where the
villagers lived.
Bagheera spoke truth," he panted, as he
nestled down in some cattle-fodder by the win-
dow of a hut. "To-morrow is one day both
for Akela and for me."
Then he pressed his face close to the win-
dow and watched the fire on the hearth. He
saw the husbandman's wife get up and feed it
in the night with black lumps; and when the
morning came and the mists were all white
and cold, he saw the man's child pick up a
wicker pot plastered inside with earth, fill it
with lumps of red-hot charcoal, put it under
his blanket, and go out to tend the cows in the
Is that all ? said Mowgli. If a cub can
do it, there is nothing to fear"; so he strode
round the corner and met the boy, took the
pot from his hand, and disappeared into the
mist while the boy howled with fear.
"They are very like me," said Mowgli, blow-
ing into the pot, as he had seen the woman do.
"This thing will die if I do not give it things
to eat "; and he dropped twigs and dried bark
on the red stuff. Half-way up the hill he met
Bagheera with the morning dew shining like
moonstones on his coat.
"Akela has missed," said the Panther.
"They would have killed him last night, but
they needed thee also. They were looking for
thee on the hill."

I was among the ploughed lands. I am
ready. See!" Mowgli held up the fire-pot.
"Good! Now, I have seen men thrust a dry
branch into that stuff, and presently the Red
Flower blossomed at the end of it. Art thou
not afraid ? "
"No. Why should I fear? I remember
now--if it is not a dream--how, before I
was a Wolf, I lay beside the Red Flower, and
it was warm and pleasant."
All that day Mowgli sat in the cave tending
his fire-pot and dipping dry branches into it to
see how they looked. He found a branch that
satisfied him, and in the evening when Tabaqui
came to the cave and told him rudely enough
that he was wanted at the Council Rock, he
laughed till Tabaqui ran away. Then Mowgli
went to the Council, still laughing.
Akela the Lone Wolf lay by the side of his
rock as a sign that the leadership of the Pack
was open, and Shere Khan with his following of
scrap-fed wolves walked to and fro openly be-
ing flattered. Bagheera lay close to Mowgli,
and the fire-pot was between Mowgli's knees.
When they were all gathered together, Shere
Khan began to speak-a thing he would never
have dared to do when Akela was in his prime.
He has no right," whispered Bagheera.
"Say so.. He is a dog's son. He will be
Mowgli sprang to his feet. "Free Peo-
ple," he cried, "does Shere Khan lead the
Pack ? What has a tiger to do with our lead-
ership ?"
"Seeing that the leadership is yet open, and
being asked to speak-" Shere Khan began.
"By whom?" said Mowgli. "Are we all
jackals, to fawn on this cattle-butcher? The
leadership of the Pack is with the Pack alone."
There were yells of "Silence, thou man's
cub!" "Let him speak. He has kept our
Law"; and at last the seniors- of the Pack
thundered: "Let the Dead Wolf speak."
When a leader of the Pack has missed his kill,
he is called the Dead Wolf as long as he lives,
which is not long.
Akela raised his old head wearily:
"Free People, and ye too, jackals of Shere
Khan, for twelve seasons I have led ye to and
from the kill, and in all that time not one



has been trapped or maimed. Now I have
missed my kill. Ye know how that plot was
made. Ye know how ye brought me up to an
untried buck to make my weakness known. It
was cleverly done. Your right is to kill me
here on the Council Rock, now. Therefore, I
ask, who comes to make an end of the Lone
Wolf? For it is my right, by the Law of the
Jungle, that ye come one by one."
There was a long hush, for no single wolf
cared to fight Akela to the death. Then Shere
Khan roared: Bah! what have we to do
with this toothless fool? He is doomed to die!
It is the man-cub who has lived too long. Free
People, he was my meat from the first. Give
him to me. I am weary of this man-wolf folly.
He has troubled the jungle for ten seasons.
Give me the man-cub, or I will hunt here
always, and not give you one bone. He is a
man, a man's child, and from the marrow of my
bones I hate him!"
Then more than half the Pack yelled: "A
man! a man! What'has a man to do with
us? Let him go to his own place."
"And turn all the people of the villages
against us ?" thundered Shere Khan. No;
give him to me. He is a man, and none of us
can look him between the eyes."
Akela lifted his head again, and said: "He
has eaten our food. He has slept with us. He
has driven game for us. He has broken no
word of the Law of the Jungle."
"Also, I paid for him with a bull when he
was accepted. The worth of a bull is little, but
Bagheera's honor is something that he will per-
haps fight for," said Bagheera, in his gentlest
"A bull paid ten years ago!" the Pack
snarled. "What do we care for bones ten
years old ? "
Or for a pledge ?" said Bagheera, his white
teeth bared under his lip. "Well are ye called
the Free People!" "
No man's cub can run with the people of
the jungle," roared Shere Khan. Give him
to me!"
He is our brother in all but blood," Akela
went on; "and ye would kill him here! In
truth, I have lived too long. Some of ye are
eaters of cattle, and of others I have heard that

under Shere Khan's teaching ye go by dark
night and snatch children from the villager's
door-step. Therefore I know ye to be cowards,
and it is to cowards I speak. It is certain that I
must die, and my life is of no worth, or I would
offer that in the man-cub's place. But for the
sake of the Honor of the Pack,-a little matter
that by being without a leader ye have forgot-
ten,-I promise that if ye let the man-cub go
to his own place, I will not, when my time
comes to die, bare one tooth against ye. I will
die without fighting. That will at least save
the Pack three lives. More I cannot do; but
if ye will, I can save ye the shame that comes
of killing a brother against whom there is no
fault,- a brother spoken for and bought into
the Pack according to the Law of the Jungle."
He is a man a man a man! snarled
the Pack; and most of the wolves began to
gather round Shere Khan, whose tail was be-
ginning to switch.
"Now the business is in thy hands," said
Bagheera to Mowgli. ".We can do no more
except fight."
Mowgli stood upright-the fire-pot in his
hands. Then he stretched out his arms, and
yawned in the face of the Council; but he was
furious with rage and sorrow, for, wolf-like, the
wolves had never told him how they hated him.
" Listen you! he cried. "There is no need for
this dog's jabber. Ye have told me so often to-
night that I am a man (and indeed I would
have been a wolf with you to my life's end), that
I feel your words are true. So I do not call
ye my brothers any more, but sag [dogs], as a
man should. What ye will do, and what ye
will not do, is not yours to say. That matter is
with me, and that we may see the matter more
plainly, I, the man, have brought here a little of
the Red Flower which ye, dogs, fear."
He flung the fire-pot on the ground, and
some of the red coals lit a tuft of dried moss
that flared up, as all the Council drew back
in terror before the leaping flames.
Mowgli thrust his dead branch into the fire
till the twigs lit and crackled, and whirled it
above his head among the cowering wolves.
"Thou art the master," said Bagheera, in an
undertone. Save Akela from the death. He
was ever thy friend."


Akela, the grim old wolf who had never
asked for mercy in his life, gave one piteous
look at Mowgli as the boy stood all naked,
his long black hair tossing over his shoulders in
the light of the blazing branch that made the
shadows jump and quiver.
"Good!" said Mowgli, staring around slowly.
"I see that ye are dogs. I go from you to my
own people-if they be my own people. The
jungle is shut to me, and I must forget your
talk and your companionship; but I will be
more merciful than ye are. Because I was all
but your brother in blood, I promise that when
I am a man among men I will not betray ye
to men as ye have betrayed me." He kicked
the fire with his foot, and the sparks flew up.
"There shall be no war between any of us in
the Pack. But here is a debt to pay before I
go." He strode forward to where Shere Khan
sat blinking stupidly at the flames, and caught
him by the tuft on his chin. Bagheera followed
in case of accidents. Up, dog!" Mowgli
cried. "Up, when a man speaks, or I will set
that coat ablaze!"
Shere Khan's ears lay flat back on his head,
and he shut his eyes, for the blazing branch was
very near.
"This cattle-killer said he would kill me in
the Council because he had not killed me when
I was a cub. Thus and thus, then, do we beat
dogs when we are men. Stir a whisker, Lungri,
and I ram the Red Flower down thy gullet!"
He beat Shere Khan over the head with the
branch, and the tiger whimpered and whined
in an agony of fear.
"Pah! Singed jungle-cat-go now! But
remember when next I come to the Council
Rock, as a man should come, it will be with
Shere Khan's hide on my head. For the rest,
Akela goes free to live as he pleases. Ye will
not kill him, because that is not my will. Nor
do I think that ye will sit here any longer,
lolling out your tongues as though ye were
somebodies, instead of dogs whom I drive out
-thus Go! The fire was burning furiously
at the end of the branch, and Mowgli struck
right and left round the circle, and the wolves

ran howling with the sparks burning their fur.
At last there were only Akela, Bagheera, and
perhaps ten wolves that had taken Mowgli's
part. Then something began to hurt Mowgli
inside him, as he had never been hurt in his life
before, and he caught his breath and sobbed,
and the tears ran down his face.
"What is it? What is it? he said. "I do
not wish to leave the jungle, and I do not know
what this is. Am I dying, Bagheera ?"
"No, Little Brother. That is only tears such
as men use," said Bagheera. "Now I know
thou art a man, and a man's cub no longer.
The jungle is shut indeed to thee henceforward.
Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears."
So Mowgli sat and cried as though his heart
would break; and he had never cried in all his
life before.
"Now," he said, "I will go to men. But
first I must say farewell to my mother"; and he
went to the cave where she lived with Father
Wolf, and he cried on her coat, while the four
cubs howled miserably.
"Ye will not forget me? said Mowgli.
"Never while we can follow a trail," said the
cubs. Come to the foot of the hill when thou
art a man, and we will talk to thee; and we will
come into the crop-lands to play with thee by
"Come soon!" said Father Wolf. "Oh, wise
little frog, come again soon; for we be old, thy
mother and I."
"Come soon," said Mother Wolf, "little
naked son of mine; for, listen, child of man, I
loved thee more than ever I loved my cubs."
"I will surely come," said Mowgli; "and
when I come it will be to lay out Shere Khan's
hide upon the Council Rock. Do not forget me!
Tell them in the jungle never to forget me! "
The dawn was beginning to break when
Mowgli went down the hillside alone to the
crops, to meet those mysterious things that are
called men.

Next month I will tell you how Mowgli kept
his word, and laid down Shere Khan's hide on
the Council Rock.




" j~.-.^ ,-^- '-, ,.- -,. c


THE city of St. Augustine, on the eastern
coast of Florida, stands in one respect pre-
eminent among all the cities of the United
States-it is truly an old city. It has many
other claims to consideration, but these are
shared with other cities. But in regard to age
it is the one member of its class.
Compared with the cities of the Old World,
St. Augustine would be called young; but in

the United States a city whose buildings and
monuments connect the Middle Ages with the
present time, may be considered to have a
good claim to be called ancient.
After visiting some of our great towns, where
the noise and bustle of traffic, the fire and din of
manufactures, the long lines of buildings stretch-
ing out in every direction, with all the other
evidences of active enterprise, proclaim these

*This picture, and those of the oldest house in St. Augustine, Charlotte Street, and the Ponce de Leon and
Alcazar Hotels, are copied by kind permission, from "Florida and St. Augustine," published by Messrs. Carrere
& Hastings, architects, New York.


cities creations of the present day and hour, it
is refreshing and restful to go down to quiet St.
Augustine, where one may gaze into the dry
moat of a fort of medieval architecture, walk
over its drawbridges, pass under its portcullis,
and go down into its dungeons; and where in
soft semi-tropical air the visitor may wander
through narrow streets resembling those of
Spain and Italy, where the houses on each side

mitted many atrocities; and, half a century after
Drake, the celebrated English buccaneer Cap-
tain John Davis captured and plundered the
Much later, General Moore, Governor of
South Carolina, took the town and held it for
three months, but was never able to take the
fort. In 1740 General Oglethorpe, another
Governor of South Carolina, attacked St. Au-



lean over toward one another so that neighbors
might almost shake hands from their upper
windows, and are surrounded by orange-groves
and rose-gardens which blossom all the year.
St. Augustine was founded in 1565 by Pedro
Menendez de Aviles, who was then Governor of
Florida. Here he built a wooden fort which
was afterward replaced by the massive edifice
which still exists. St. Augustine needed de-
fenses, for she passed through long periods of
war, and many battles were fought for her pos-
session. At first there were wars in Florida be-
tween the Spanish and the French; and when
the town was just twenty-one years old, Sir
Francis Drake captured the fort, carrying off
two thousand pounds in money, and burned
half the buildings in the town. Then the In-
dians frequently attacked the place and com-

gustine, planting batteries on the island oppo-
site, and maintaining a siege for forty days; but
he was obliged to withdraw. Three years
later he made another attack, but succeeded no
better. Even now one can see the dents and
holes made in the fort.by the cannon-balls fired
in these sieges.
In 1819 Florida was ceded to our Govern-
ment, and St. Augustine became a city of the
United States.
Approaching St. Augustine from the sea, the
town looks as if it might be a port on the
Mediterranean coast. The light-colored walls
of its houses and gardens, masses of rich green
foliage cropping up everywhere in the town
and about it, the stern old fortress to the north
of it, and the white and glittering sands of the
island which separates its harbor from the sea,



make it very unlike the ordinary idea of an
American town.
In the center of the city is a large open
square called the Plaza de la Constitucion, sur-
rounded by beautiful live-oaks and pride-of-
India trees, with their long, hanging mosses and
sweet-smelling blossoms.
Most of the streets are narrow, without side-
walks, and from the high-walled gardens comes
the smell of orange-blossoms, while roses and
other flowers bloom everywhere and all the time.
At the southern end of the town stands the
old Convent of St. Francis, which is now used
as barracks for United States soldiers.
The old palace of the governor still stands,
but now contains the post-office and other
public buildings. There was once a wall
around the town, and one of the gates of this
still remains. There is a tower on each side
of the gateway, and the sentry-boxes, and loop-
holes through which the guards used to look
out for Indians and other enemies, are still
there. Along the harbor edge of the town is a
wall nearly a mile long, built at great expense
by the United States Government as a defense
against the encroachments of the sea. This is
called the sea wall, and its smooth top, four
feet wide, is a favorite promenade. Walking
VOL. XXI.-27-28.

northward on this wall, or on the street beside
it, if you like that better, we reach, a little out-
side of the town, what I consider the most in-
teresting feature of St. Augustine. This is the
old fort of San Marco, which, since it came into
the possession of our government, has been re-
named Fort Marion.




The old fort is not a ruin, but is one of the
best-preserved specimens of the style of fortifi-
cation of the Middle Ages. We cross the moat

-s r ". -- '
'' ." ""; "" aa


and the drawbridge, and over the stone door-
way we see the Spanish coat-of-arms, and under it
an inscription stating that the fort was built dur-
ing the reign of King Ferdinand VI. of Spain,
with the names and titles of the dons who super-
intended the work. It took sixty years to build
the fort, and nearly all the work was done by
Indians who were captured and made slaves
for the purpose. Passing through the solemn
entrance, we come to an open square sur-
rounded by the buildings and walls of the fort,
which, in all, cover about an acre of ground.
On the right is an inclined plane which serves
as a stairway to reach the ramparts where the
cannon were placed. The terre-plein, or wide,
flat surface of the ramparts, makes a fine walk
around the four sides of the fort from which we
can have views of land and sea. At each cor-

ner was a watch-tower, three of which remain;
and into these one can mount, and through the
narrow slits of windows get a view of what is
going on outside with-
out being seen him-
self. At one end of
Sthefortis the old Span-
ish chapel, and all
around the square are
the rooms that used to
u d do be occupied by the of-
ficersand the soldiers.
Into the chapel the
condemned prisoners
r.- used to be taken to
Shear their last mass
before being marched
Sup to the north ram-
S part and shot.
S Down in the foun-
Ik dations of the fort are
dungeons into which
no ray of sunlight can
enter. After the fort
came into the pos-
session of our gov-
ernment, a human
-'a -re o skeleton was found in
Sone of the dungeons,
chained to a staple in
INE. the wall; and in an-
other dungeon, with-
out door or window and completely walled up,
there were discovered two iron cages which had
hung from the walls, each containing a human
skeleton. The supports of one of the cages had
rusted away, and it had fallen down, but the
other was still in its place. A great many ro-
mantic stories were told about these skeletons,
and by some persons it was supposed that they
were the remains of certain heirs to the Spanish
throne whose existence it was desirable ut-
terly to blot out. One of the skeletons was that
of a woman or girl. The cages and skeletons
have been removed, but we can go into the
dungeons if we take a lantern. Anything
darker or blacker than these underground cells
cannot be imagined. I have seen dungeons
in Europe, but none of them were so hope-
lessly awful as these.



In another part of the fort is a cell in which Os-
ceola, the celebrated Indian chief, was once im-
prisoned, in company with another chief named
Wild Cat. There is a little window near the top
of the cell, protected by several iron bars; and
it is said that Wild Cat starved himself until he
was thin enough to squeeze between two of the

of Indian prisoners who had been captured in
the far West. Some of them were notorious for
their cruelties and crimes, but in the fort they
were all peaceable enough. It was one of these
Indians, a big, ugly fellow, who lighted me into
the dungeon of the skeleton-cages.
This fort, which is in many respects like a
great castle, is not built of ordinary stone, but

r' i,-,ri ,:i t -.e i h Ir:!h n l n ,in 'I [li c l- ,.ir' nii' ',f i'-',
!iaI\e uniel iTit.. -i rjlj -: lik :" ,.-.li.I ri-,k. I( 'ii

ar .-t-y:i* r ii-lj :li[.,n .: i- i t..i ,it 'i. i:riii -tic

t.:, ., i.; L I.I|| It 'i n rL i.[i-t ,. I 'd i l ,i:l ,_,I
tli'h-c !l .iIJ ,:,L.icr e i t,:, th, l ti.-.|cr
-[i [ I dhi I llk 1[,_ ,] ill-. d i tlfl1ci,., \' II : itli


bars, having first mounted on the shoulders of
Osceola in order to reach them. Whether the
starving part of the story is true or not, it is
certain that he escaped through the window.
When I last visited San Marco, it was full

lower we look down the more and more solid
and stone-like the masses become.
The harbor of St. Augustine is a portion of
the sea cut off by Anastasia Island. South-
ward, the Matanzas River extends from the



harbor; and in all these waters there is fine
fishing. On the sea-beaches there is good
bathing, for the water is not too cold even in
winter. St. Augustine is an attractive place
at all seasons of the year, and its three superb
hotels-the Ponce de Leon, the Alcazar, and
the Cordova-are among the most celebrated
in America. In winter people come down from
the North because its air is so warm and pleas-
ant, and in summer people from the Southern
States visit it because its sea-breezes are so
cool and refreshing. It is a favorable resort
for yachts, and in its wide, smooth harbor may
often be seen some of the most beautiful vessels
of this class.

town by a little railroad. At Tocoi, the river
terminus of the railroad, people who wish to
penetrate into the heart of Florida, with its
great forests and lakes and beautiful streams,
can take a steamer and sail up the St. John's,
which, by the way, flows northward some two
hundred miles. In some parts the river is six
miles wide, resembling a lake, and in its narrow
portions the shores are very beautiful.
About forty miles above Tocoi the Ockla-
waha River runs into the St. John's, and there
are few visitors to St. Augustine who do not
desire to take a trip up the little river which is
in many respects the most romantic and beau-
tiful stream in the world. At Tocoi we take a


St. Augustine is not only a delightful place
in which to stay, but it is easy to reach from
there some points which are of great interest to
travelers. The great St. John's River is only
fourteen miles away, and is connected with the

small steamboat which looks like a very narrow
two-story house mounted upon a little canal-
boat, and in this we go up the St. John's until we
see on the right an opening in the tree-covered
banks. This is the mouth of the Ocklawaha,


and, entering it, we steam directly into the heart
of one of the great forests of Florida. The
stream is very narrow, and full of turns and
bends. Indeed, its name, which is Indian, signi-
fies crooked water "; and sometimes the bow

long distances there is no solid ground on
either side of the river, the water penetrating
far into the forest and forming swamps. Near
the edge of the river we frequently see myriads
of tree-roots bent almost at right angles, giving


of the boat has even to be pushed around by men
with long poles. Of course we go slowly, but no
one objects to that, for we do not wish to hurry
through such scenery as this. On each side
we see green trees with their thick evergreen
foliage, with vines and moss hanging from
many of them, and the ground beneath covered
with the luxuriant shrubbery which grows in
these warm regions.
Sometimes we can see through the trees into
the distant recesses of the forest, and then again
we are shut in by walls of foliage. Now and
then we may see an alligator sunning himself
on a log, and as our boat approaches he rolls
over into the water and plumps out of sight.
Water-turkeys, whose bodies are concealed in
the bushes, run out their long necks to look at
us, presenting the appearance of snakes darting
from between the leaves; while curlews, herons,
and many other birds are seen on the banks
and flying across the river. In some places
the stream widens, and in the shallower por-
tions near the banks grow many kinds of lilies,
beautiful reeds, and other water-plants. For

the trees the appearance of standing on spider-
legs in the water.
Sometimes the forest opens overhead, but
nearly all the way we are covered by a roof
of green, and at every turn appear new scenes
of beauty and luxuriance.- Occasionally the
banks are moderately high, and we see long
stretches of solid ground covered with verdure.
There is one spot where two large trees stand,
one on each bank, close to the water, and the
distance between the two is so small that as
our boat glides through this natural gateway
there is scarcely a foot of room to spare on
either side.
Although the river is such a little one that
we are apt to think all the time we are sailing
on it that we must soon come to the end of
its navigation, we go on more than a hundred
miles before we come to the place where we
stop and turn back. The trip up the Ockla-
waha requires all the hours of a day and a
great part of a night; and this night trip is
like a journey through fairyland. On the high-
est part of the boat is a great iron basket, into


which, as soon as it becomes dark, are thrown
quantities of pine-knots. These are lighted in
order that the pilot may see how to steer. The
blazing of the resinous fuel lights up the forest
for long distances in every direction, and, as
may easily be imagined, the effect is wonder-
fully beautiful. When the fire blazes high the
scene is like an illuminated lacework of tree-
trunks, vines, leaves, and twigs, the smallest
tendril shining out bright and distinct; while
through it all the river gleams like a band
of glittering silver. Then, as the pine-knots
gradually burn out, the illumination fades and
fades away until we think the whole glorious
scene is about to melt into nothing, when more
sticks are thrown on, the light blazes up again,
and we have before us a new scene with dif-
ferent combinations of illuminated foliage and
It often happens that during the night our
little steamer crowds itself to one side of the
river and stops. Then we may expect to see
a splendid sight. Out of the dark depths of
the forest comes a glowing, radiant apparition,
small at first, but getting larger and larger until
it moves down upon us like a tangle of moon
and stars drifting through the trees.
This is nothing but another little steamboat
coming down the river with its lighted win-
dows and decks, and its blazing basket of pine-
knots. There is just room enough for her to
squeeze past us, and then her radiance gradu-
ally fades away in the darkness behind us.
We travel thus, night and day, until we
reach Silver Springs, which is the end of our
journey. This is a small lake so transparent
that we can see down to the very bottom of it,
and watch the turtles and fishes as they swim
about. A silver coin or any small object
thrown into the water may be distinctly seen
lying on the white sand far beneath us. The
land is high and dry about Silver Springs, and
the passengers generally go on shore and stroll
through the woods for an hour or two. Then
we reembark and return to St. Augustine as
we came.
It must not be supposed that St. Augustine

contains nothing but buildings of the olden
time. Although many parts of the town are
the same as they were in the old Spanish days,
and although we may even find the descendants
of the Minorcans who were once its principal
citizens, the city now contains many handsome
modem dwellings and hotels, some of which
are exceptionally large and grand. Hundreds
of people from the North have come down to
this city of orange-scented air, eternal verdure,
and invigorating sea-breezes, and have built
handsome houses; and during the winter there
is a great deal of bustle and life in the narrow
streets, in the Plaza, and on the sunny front of
the town. Many of the shops are of a kind
only to be found in semi-tropical towns by the
sea, and have for sale bright-colored sea-beans,
ornaments made of fish-scales of every variety
of hue, corals, dried sea-ferns, and ever so
many curiosities of the kind. We may even
buy, if we choose, some little black alligators,
alive and brisk and about a foot long. As to
fruit, we can get here the best oranges in the
world, which come from the Indian River in
the southern part of Florida, and many sorts
of tropical fruits that are seldom brought to
Northern cities.
If St. Augustine were like most American
cities, and had been built by us or by our im-
mediate ancestors, and presented an air of
newness and progress and business prosperity,
its delightful climate and its natural beauties
would make it a most charming place to visit.
But if we add to these attractions the fact that
here alone we can see a bit of the old world
without leaving our young Republic, and that
in two or three days from the newness and
busy din of New York or Chicago we may sit
upon the ramparts of. a medieval fort, and
study the history of those olden days when
the history of Spain, England, and France was
also the history of this portion of our own
land,-we cannot fail to admit that this little
town of coquina walls and evergreen foliage
and traditions of old-world antiquity occu-
pies a position which is unique in the United



"I DON'T see," said Santa Claus, as he took a in the present-giving way, and I mean to tell
last look around before going out to climb into you only about a few of the pictures he took.
the waiting sleigh, "why I should n't take my He spoiled a good many, for they were all
camera with me!" taken by flash-light and in a hurry. But he got
So he picked it up and deposited it on the one good view of a village church near which
seat by his side. lived a favorite little boy and his two sisters;
Swish! -and away they went, but not so fast and also a picture of their stockings hanging
as usual, since "Dunder" and "Blitzen" were from the holly-covered mantel.
lame, and "Prancer" was not well. At another house one little girl woke up
You know what the genial old gentleman did when Santa Claus was taking her picture; but


she thought next morning it was only a dream, who snarled at Santa Claus, were frightened
so Santa Claus did n't mind having been seen. by the flash-light, and so spoiled their pictures.
A picture of some snowy chimneys, showing Santa Claus took plenty of other pictures, but
his path to and from the flue, and of the tired he does n't care to show any but these. Next
reindeer team, also proved successful; but a year he hopes to be better skilled, for he says
very timid little girl, and a cross black cat it is fun to take pictures on Christmas eve.



S'.'oT very far from
Sri e great Wash-
ington Monu-
ment, although
far enough
away not to
be hurt if it
should ever
.. tumble down,
stands a large
K.. brick building
the Govern-
ment parks
a : and the Poto-
: mac River. This
ii the Bureau of
S. SEnraving and Print-
j ongs. ttre place in which
ONE OF UNCLE SAM'S MONEY- Uncle Sam makes his
COUNTERS. greenbacks- his millions
and millions of dollars' worth of paper money.
For many years all of the paper money was
engraved and printed by private corporations;
but about thirty years ago it occurred to Uncle
Sam that it would be a good idea to take part
in the making of his money, and not allow out-
siders to do it all alone. So, in spite. of the
objections of the bank-note companies, who
felt that they were being deprived of a very
good business, the work of printing the notes,
bonds, and securities of the United States was
divided between the Government and these
private concerns. Uncle Sam printed the
faces, and the bank-note companies took care
of the backs. But Uncle Sam became so well
pleased with his success as a printer, that by
and by and little by little he appropriated
more and more of the business to himself,
until finally he had entire charge of it, and now
the outside people do no more than manufac-
ture the paper. At first the business was car-

ried on in the basement of the Treasury Build-
ing, but this was soon found to be too small a
shop for so large an enterprise, and it was then
transferred to the garret, where there was more
room although not much more light. But at
last it was found that so much space was
needed that there was nothing to be done but
to build a special building. So Congress ap-
propriated three hundred thousand dollars for
the construction of a suitable building, and
about thirty thousand dollars to purchase a
site upon which to locate the bureau. In due
time a suitable site was chosen-the property
at the corner of 14th and B streets, in the
city of Washington. The land was bought in
1878; and two years later the building was
The average visitor to the Bureau of En-
graving and Printing does not have an oppor-
tunity of seeing very much, for Uncle Sam is
very careful not to take any chances that
might result in the loss of any of his valuable
paper money. So the visitor must content
himself with looking through cages and screens,
behind which he sees men and women busy at
work amid stacks of paper in all the stages of
making, from the blank sheet to the printed
notes; nor is he allowed to wander about
wherever he likes, and to go peering into se-
cret rooms; but a guide must accompany all
those who want to see this wonderful money-
shop, and they may go only into such rooms
and places as the guide is permitted to show
them. But when I called, and said to the su-
perintendent that I wanted to tell the readers
of ST. NICHOLAS all about the bureau, he rang
an electric bell for a guide; and when she ap-
peared he told her to show me through "spe-
cial," which meant that closed doors, cages, and
screens were all to be open to me in order that
I might not miss anything.
Of course the first thing to be done in mak-


ing a note is to make the design and the en-
graving, and this is really the most difficult and
important part of the whole work. When an
order is received from the Treasury for a new
design, the designer must set his wits to work


to think of. something which is different from
anything that has already been printed, but
which at the same time will be in keeping with
the general look and form of a bank-note. Sev-
eral years ago it was the custom to print the
portraits of living persons on the money; but
Uncle Sam came to the conclusion that this
was not a very good plan, and so he passed a
law prohibiting the use of the portraits of living
persons, and therefore you will never see the

portrait of a prominent man upon a note or a
greenback till after his death.
When the design has been approved by the
proper officials, it is turned over to the engravers.
These men are all expert steel-engravers, as
none but the very best
and most proficient
are employed; and
they are obliged to
.1, work in a secluded
,. room, into which no
; one but the officials
of the bureau and
S-the special visitors is
ever allowed to come.
Each one sits before
a window with cur-
.. tains and shades so
arranged as to give
him the best light;.t
and, if~he- xdafyis not
bright, he works by
the electric light. The
duties of these en-
gravers are very la-
borious and difficult,
as they are obliged to
be exceedingly careful
and exact.
If you will look at
inu-.. the pictures upon a
mone-dollar bill, you
will see that the por-
trait of Martha Wash-
ington or of Stanton
is composed altoge-
ther of curved or
straight lines the
N PRINTING nly kind of engraving
that is allowed to be
done in the bureau; because unless it is done
in this manner, and unless the lines are cut very
deep, the engravings cannot be used. Now
this portrait was engraved in a piece of steel by
the use of a very sharp little instrument known
as a graver.
Every little scratch on the steel plate will
in printing show a black line, so you will see
how very careful the engraver has to be that
he shall not make any false scratches, and



that the lines shall be just so long and just so Besides this manual work, some of the en-
broad. graving is done by machinery, as for exam-
Now, steel-engraving is the direct opposite of ple the background of the portrait and of the
wood-engraving. The scratches and cuts made borders, and the shading of the letters--this
on a wooden block will be white in the print, being done by what is known as the ruling-ma-
and it is only the uncut portions of the block chine, which can rule several hundred perfectly
that print black; while on the steel the un- straight lines within an inch. The intricate
scratched portion leaves the paper white. scroll and lace-like work around the figures on
When a design has been cut on a steel plate the face and the back of the note is done by
and it is ready to be printed, the ink is put on a wonderful machine known as the geometric
the plate or block, and all the cuts and scratches lathe. This machine consists of a large num-
become filled with ink.
Then the ink is care-
fully rubbed off of the
surface, so that none
remains except what
is in the lines. When
a piece of dampened
paper is placed on the
plate and subjected to
very heavy pressure,
it sinks into the lines;
and when it is taken off
it draws the ink out X -
with it, and thus the
picture is printed on
the paper.
It takes an engraver
about six weeks or two
months to complete
one portrait, and a man
who engraves the por-
traits never does any
other kind of engrav-
ing. Each engraver
does only a certain
portion of the work
on a note; no one is
permitted to engrave
an entire note; so that
besides the portrait-
engravers, there are .:.
some who do nothing j
but engrave the figures, -. .
the seal, the lettering,
this way it would be
impossible for an engraver to make a complete ber of wheels of all sizes and in all sorts of
engraving for his own use, if he were dis- arrangements, together with a complicated
honest enough to want to do such a thing. mechanism of eccentrics and rods, all of which



is incomprehensible to any one but an expert
By a proper adjustment of its parts, the deli-
cate diamond point that moves about over the
face of the steel is made to work out a perfect
and artistic pattern with greater accuracy and
much more speed than could be done by hand;
and hence this delicate and intricate part of
the engraving is one of the greatest obstacles
with which the counterfeiter has to contend,
for he finds it next to impossible to imitate it
Fortunately for Uncle Sam, the geometric
lathe is a very complicated and very expensive
machine, and the counterfeiter is generally a
poor man; and even if he did manage to lay
up enough money to buy the lathe, it is hardly
likely he would live long enough to learn
how to use it properly; for there are only four
men in the world who understand how to
operate it.
Indeed, the man who now has charge of the
geometric lathe at the Bureau of Engraving and
Printing is the only one in the United States
at the present time who knows how to manage
it; and if anything should happen to him, it
might tangle matters up for a while in this
important branch of our Uncle Sam's big
Well, after all the different parts of the
design that go to make up a note are com-
pleted, the engravings, or "dies" as they are
called, are transferred to steel rollers. It
would not do to print from the dies them-
selves, as they would very soon wear out and
it would be too expensive to be making new
ones all the time. So the engraving is trans-
ferred or pressed on to another piece of steel.
This is done by rolling a steel roller over the
dies, with a pressure so great that the impres-
sion of the dies is cut into the surface of the
roller, just as the eagle on a fifty-cent piece
would be impressed on a piece of putty if you
pressed the half-dollar on it. Of course the
roller is made as soft as possible,-"decarbon-
ized" as it is called,-so that the designs can
be well marked on it. When this is done, the
roller is hardened and run over a softened steel
plate, and in this way the engraving is trans-
ferred for a second time. This plate is large

enough to contain four engravings or impres-
sions of the face or the back of a note,-which-
ever it may be,-and it is from these plates,
after they have been hardened and touched up
by the engravers, that the money is printed in
sheets of four notes each. So you see that if
anything should happen to a plate, all that
would be necessary would be to take the roller
and make another plate, instead of having to
make new dies.
Each one of these plates is numbered, and
each one of the four engravings of the note is
marked by one of the first four letters of the
alphabet. If you will look closely on your
one-dollar bill, you will find a small A or B or
C or D, which means that it is the first, sec-
ond, third, or fourth engraving on a certain
plate; and if you have good eyesight you will
soon discover the number of the plate in very
small figures hiding alongside or below the
Now, you may not think it worth while to
have these tiny letters and figures on the note,.
but they are one of the many guards Uncle
Sam uses to prevent counterfeiting; for the
bad people who make false money sometimes
overlook these little marks, or sometimes, when
they are too smart and crafty, they put a little
E or an H off in one corner, and of course
Uncle Sam's experts detect the mistake at
As you might know, all of these dies, rollers,
and plates are very valuable, and great care is
taken to prevent their being lost or stolen.
Two large vaults, with double steel doors and
time locks, are used for storing them away.
Every evening, each and every piece of steel
that has the least engraving upon it, and that
has been out of the vault during the day, is re-
turned; and nothing can be taken out in the
morning without an order from the superinten-
dent. Every two or three years, a number of
officials known as the Destruction Committee
come over from the Treasury to examine the
vaults for the purpose of seeing whether every-
thing is all right, and of picking out such roll-
ers, plates, and dies as they think are no longer
fit for use. These they have packed into a
strong box bound with iron bands, and they
take this box with its precious load down to



the Navy Yard, where all the pieces of steel
are melted in a fiery furnace.
The paper upon which the engravings are
printed is made by a private concern, whose
mills are closely guarded by Uncle Sam's
watchmen; for no one is allowed to make this
particular kind of paper except for the use of
the Government. It is made from duck cloth
and canvas clippings, which make the finest
quality of linen paper. The little red and blue
scratches you see on the face and back of the
note are not really scratches, but the silk
threads that are woven in with the paper.
When the paper is sent to Washington it is
stored away under lock and key in the base-
ment of the Treasury, and sent over, whenever
it is needed, to the Bureau
of Engraving and Print-
ing, in packages of a thou-
sand sheets each. __
When it reaches the
bureau, it is taken to what
is called the wetting di-
vision, where it is care-
fully counted to see
whether the correct
number of sheets has
been sent, and then
placed between wet cloths
and stacked on the floor.
When the paper is thor-
oughly dampened, it is .
counted a second time
and made ready for the
The printing is done
in an immense room on
the third floor of the
building, crowded with
presses and machinery of
all kinds, doing all sorts
of printing and making
all sorts of noises; while
men and women, young PRINTING SH
and old, short and tall,
handsome and homely, are busy at work amid
the noise and confusion and dirt.
Some of the presses are run by steam, but
nearly all of them are hand-presses. Several
times Uncle Sam has announced his intention

of doing away with these old-time ones, but
each time the printers objected and Uncle Sam
relented; and so to-day, in the midst of all
the great modern improvements, these ungainly
hand-presses still remain in Uncle Sam's great
printing-establishment. Of course the printers
are not all doing the same kind of work: some
are printing the greenbacks, some the brown-
backs, some the faces, and others the backs and
faces, of the revenue stamps. Each printer has
a woman assistant, who takes the sheets off
the press and examines them to see whether
they are properly printed; and if she finds no
defect she lays them on a pile at her side.
But if she does not think a sheet has been per-
fectly printed, and the printer agrees with her,

,.- s



she tears a rent in it and throws it to one side.
If she and the printer are both undecided as to
whether it is to be passed, they leave it for the
expert examiners down-stairs. Each one of the
presses has an ingenious register attached to it,


so that a record is kept of every impression
made by the press, whether it be on a waste
sheet or a note. At the end of each day's
work, a clerk examines the register and com-
pares it with the number of sheets printed and

of manufacturing the inks with which the money
is printed.
When the sheets are printed, they are taken
to the room of one of the officials, where a
record of their number is kept, and they are


wasted; and if they do not agree, and no satis-
factory explanation is made, somebody is likely
to get into trouble. If a sheet is lost, the per-
son responsible for it must pay its face-value:
that is, if it was a sheet of five-dollar bills he
would have to pay twenty dollars, and he
would have to pay this even if it had only the
backs printed on it. When you remember that
there are fifty-dollar bills, one-hundred-dollar
bills, and one-thousand-dollar bills, you can im-
agine that everybody is very careful not to lose
a scrap of paper.
As Uncle Sam thinks he can make better
and cheaper ink than anybody else, a portion
of the basement is used for the dark purpose

then carried down to the counting and exam-
ining division. Here they are counted by
women who do nothing but count, count,
count all day long, week after week, month
after month, and often year after year; and they
are so expert that they can count ten sheets as
fast as you can count one. Some of the examin-
ers make themselves a sort of paper cap to pro-
tect their eyes from the light, for keen eyesight
is needed in this work. After being counted
the sheets are thoroughly dried in a large room
where the temperature is kept up to about 120
degrees above zero; and after coming out they
pass through the hands of the examiners.
The examiners are obliged to be very skilful,


and unless a woman is able to keep her mind
steadily on her work she is of little use in the
examining division, where every imperfection,
every little blemish, must be detected, no matter
how slight or unimportant it may seem.
Such sheets as are not found perfect in every
way are thrown in with the waste sheets, to be
destroyed in what is known as the macerating-
machine-a machine which grinds the paper to
shreds and turns it into a kind of pulp.' When
this pulp is dried it is sent back to the manu-
facturers, to be once more turned into paper.
Those sheets that are perfect in all respects
are placed in a press and put under so enor-
mous a pressure that when they are taken out
each is as smooth and flat as though it had
been separately ironed.

upper right-hand and lower left-hand corners
are put on the bills and notes by women who
make use of little machines that keep up a con-
tinual clatter and rattle. This work requires a
good deal of skill and experience, and in spite
of both, mistakes are likely to occur.
Every woman is allowed to spoil ten out of
every thousand sheets. Some spoil ten every
time, and others do not on the average spoil
more than three or four.
Those that are spoiled are punched full of
holes on a funny little machine, so that nobody
could make any use of them, even if he were
wicked enough to try.
The numbers on the money seem simple
enough, but if anybody should think of go-
ing into the unwelcome business of counterfeit-

c rr

They are then taken to the division in which ing, he would first have to learn some of Uncle
the numbering is done. Here everything is Sam's little tricks, if he hoped to make a success
bright and clean, quite different from the litter of it; for besides the many other traps Uncle
and confusion in the printing and examining Sam has set for these thievish people, he has in-
divisions. The numbers which you see in the vented a very ingenious system of numbering



to a complicated clock
arrangement, so that
when the doors are
closed for the night no
man or set of men can
open them again until
the time arrives for the
clockwork to pull back
one of the bolts, and
then nobody but the
man who understands
the combination can
open the doors. Some-
times there are two
hundred and fifty mil-
lions of dollars' worth
of paper money stored
up in this vault, so it is
no wonder that there
should be so many
doors and bolts.
The money is sent
over to the Treasury
in sheets, and it is
there cut into single
notes, besides having
the red seal printed
on it. Somebody who
was fond of Arabian

1B.,' ...: I E : T P i .-

his money, so that the
man who does not un-
derstand it will very
soon be caught if he
tries to circulate bad
paper money among
his good and un-
suspecting neighbors.
All the bonds, notes,
securities, bills, and
stamps, before they go
over to the Treasury,
are stored in a large
and very strong vault,
which, like the vaults
in the engraving divi-
sion, has two or three
doors and half a hun-
dred bolts, in addition






`- '-- ~


Nights' stories and subterranean passages, sug- Printing in about three or four years, dirty and
gested that an underground passageway between ragged, after having traveled, perhaps, many
the Bureau and the Treasury be built, so that the times over every part of this great country and
money could be trans-
ported without danger; I
but Uncle Sam did not I
appreciate this sugges-

himself with a wagon 's. .
and two horses. Any i
one passing down
Pennsylvania Avenue
about half-past eight .
or nine o'clock in the .
morning will see this I
great black wagon,
closely covered on all. I
sides, rolling on its way n
toward the Treasury. t
Two stalwart men,
armed with revolvers,
keep the driver com- i
pany, while three other I
brave men, likewise
stand on a broad step at the back to protect passed through hundreds of thousands of hands;
the wagon from the rear, in case anybody and then, with a lot of its worn-out companions,
should lose his wits to such an extent as to try it is thrown into the macerating-machine and
to commit highway robbery on the streets of forever destroyed with all the marvelous tales it
Washington. might have told of joy and sorrow, storm and
If a note is not lost or destroyed, it finds its sunshine, of millionaires and starving people, of
way back to the Bureau of Engraving and happy boys and girls.


H, the little man of Morrisburg
Who would a-fishing go!
He put three fish into a tub,
And thought he 'd have a throw!
One was a dace, and one was perch,
And one was speckled trout;
And just as sure as he put them in,
He 'd fail to pull them out!
Oh, the little man of Morrisburg,
Who would a-fishing go!
With fisherman's rig, when he grows big,
He 'll know just where to throw!
VOL. XXI.- 29.






ONE of the earliest recollections of my adven-
turous childhood is the ride I had on a pony's
side. It seems strange to think of riding in
this manner; nevertheless, the Indian mode of
life made it possible. I was passive in the
whole matter. A little girl cousin of mine was
put in a bag and suspended from the horn of
an Indian saddle; but her weight must be
balanced, or the saddle would not remain on
the animal's back. Therefore, I also was put
into a sack, and made to keep both the saddle
and the girl in their proper position! I scarcely
objected to the manner of the ride, for I had
a very pleasant game of peek-a-boo with the
little girl, until we came to a big snowdrift,
where the poor beast was stuck fast and began.
to lie down. Then it was not so nice!
This was the convenient and primitive way
in which some mothers packed their children
for winter journeys. However cold the weather
might be, the inmate of the fur-lined sack was
usually very comfortable-at least I used to
think so. I believe I was treated to all the
precarious Indian conveyances, and, as a boy,
I enjoyed the dog-travois ride as much as any.
These travois consisted of a set of rawhide strips
securely lashed to the tent-poles, which were
harnessed to the sides of the animal as if he
stood between shafts, while the free ends were-
allowed to drag on the ground. Both ponies
and a large kind of dogs were used as beasts
of burden, and they carried in this way the
smaller children as well as the baggage.
This mode of traveling for children was pos-
sible only during the summer; and as the dogs
were sometimes unreliable, the little ones were
exposed to a certain amount of danger. For
instance, whenever a train of dogs had been
traveling for a long time, almost perishing with
the heat and their heavy loads, a glimpse of
water would cause them to forget everything

else for it. Some of them, in spite of the
screams of the women, would swim with their
burdens into the cooling stream, and I was thus
not infrequently compelled to partake of an
unwilling bath.
I was a little over four years old at the time
of the Sioux massacre in Minnesota. In the
general turmoil we took flight into British
Columbia, and the journey is still vividly rec-
ollected by all our family. A yoke of oxen
and a lumber-wagon were taken from some
white farmer and brought home for our con-
veyance. How delighted I was when I learned
that we were to ride behind those wise-looking
animals, and in the gorgeously painted wagon!
It seemed almost like a living animal to me,
this vehicle with four legs, and especially so
when we got out of axle-grease, and the wheels
went along squealing like pigs!
The boys apparently enjoyed much innocent
fun by jumping from the high wagon while the
oxen were leisurely moving along. My elder
brothers soon became experts. At last I mus-
tered up courage enough to join them in this
sport. I was sure they stepped on the wheel,
so I cautiously placed my moccasined foot
upon it. Alas! before I could realize what had
happened I was under the wheels, and had it
not been for the Indian immediately behind
our train, I might have been run over by the
wagon following us as well.
This was my first experience with a civilized
vehicle. I cried, venting all possible reproaches
on the white man's team, and concluded that
a dog-travois was good enough for me. I was
really rejoiced that we were moving away from
the people who made the wagon which had
almost ended my life, and I did not think at all
that I alone was to be blamed in the matter.
I could not be persuaded to ride on that
vehicle again, and was glad when finally we
left it beside the Missouri River.
Our wanderings from place to place afforded


us many pleasant experiences, as well as many
hardships and misfortunes. We had several
narrow escapes from death. There were times
of plenty and times of scarcity. There were
seasons of happiness and seasons of sadness.
In savage life the early spring is the most
trying time, and almost all the famines oc-
curred at this period of the year.
The Indians are a patient and clannish peo-
ple; their love for one another is stronger than
that of any civilized people I know. If this
were not so, I believe there would have been

days. I well remember the six small birds
which constituted the breakfast for six families
one morning; and then we had no dinner or
supper to follow it. What a relief that was to
me-although I had only a small wing of a
small bird for my share! Soon after this, we
came to a region where buffaloes were plenty,
and we soon forgot all the suffering we had
just gone through.
Such was the Indians' wild life! When game
was plenty and the sun shone graciously upon
them, they forgot the bitter experiences of the

-. .*=--. .-."
**"'S3 ?= -:* -.-_4 *"

- .-__ --"' '


tribes of cannibals among them. White people
have been known to kill and eat their com-
panions in preference to starving; but Indians
-never! In times of famine the adults often
denied themselves a fair meal in order to make
the food last as long as possible for the chil-
dren, who were not able to bear hunger as well
as the old. As a people they can go without
food much longer than any other nation.
I once passed through one of these hard
springs when we had nothing to eat for several

winter before. Little preparation was made
for the future. They are children of Nature,
and occasionally she whips them with the lashes
of experience; yet they are forgetful and care-
less. Much of their suffering might have been
prevented by a little calculation. During the
summer, when Nature was at her best and pro-
vided abundantly for the savage, it seemed to
me that no life was happier than his! Food was
free-lodging free-everything free! All were
alike rich in the summer; and, again, all were


alike poor in the winter and early spring.
Their diseases were fewer, and were not so de-
structive as now, and the Indian's health was
generally good. The Indian boy enjoyed such
a life as almost all boys dream of and would
choose for themselves if they were permitted
to do so. He had the fullest liberty, with the
privilege of wandering where he pleased and of
pursuing his own inclinations.
Yet the idea of becoming a warrior was early
inculcated and nurtured in his simple mind.
He was intrusted entirely with the care of the
ponies. He must bring them home at evening
and picket them near the tepee, and again herd
them in the morning upon some pleasant grassy
plain. He must always be on the lookout for
horse-thieves of other tribes. Thus I spent a
good portion of every day in pony-racing and
practising feats of horsemanship. When the po-
nies were watered, we boys used to play at sham-
fights, chasing one another across the streams.
The raids made upon our people by other
tribes were frequent, and we had to be con-
stantly on the watch. I remember one time a
night attack was made upon our camp, and all
our ponies stampeded. Only a few of them
were recovered, and our journeys after this mis-
fortune Were effected mostly by means of the
The second winter after the Minnesota mas-
sacre, my father and my two older brothers,
with several others, were betrayed by a half-
breed at Winnipeg to the United States au-
thorities. As I was then living with my uncle
in another part of the country, I became sepa-
rated from them for ten years. During all this
time I was under the impression that they had
been killed by the whites; hence I was taught
that I must avenge their deaths as soon as I was
able to go on the war-path. In reality, they
were imprisoned for four years, and then par-
doned by President Lincoln.
I must say a word in regard to the character
of my uncle, who was my adviser and teacher
during most of my earlier days. He was a
man about six feet two inches tall, very erect
and broad-shouldered. He was known at that
time as the best hunter and the bravest warrior
among the Sioux in British America, where he

still lives; for to this day we have failed to per-
suade him to return to the United States. He
was a typical Indian-not handsome, but
truthful and brave. He had a few simple prin-
ciples from which he scarcely ever departed.
Some of these I will relate when I speak of my
It is wonderful that any children grew up
through all the exposures and hardships that
we suffered in those days! The frail tepee,
pitched anywhere, in the winter as well as in
the summer, was all the protection that we had
against storms. I can recall times when we
were snowed in, and it was very difficult to get
fuel. We were once three days without much
fire, and all of the time it stormed violently.
There seemed to be no anxiety on the part of
our people; they rather looked upon all this
as a matter of course, knowing that the storm
would cease when the time came.
I could endure as much cold and hunger as
any of them; but now if I miss one meal or
accidentally wet my feet, I suffer as much as
if I had never lived in the manner I have
described, when it was a matter of course to
get myself soaking wet many a time. Even if
there was plenty to eat, it was thought better
for us to practise fasting sometimes, and hard
exercise was kept up continually, both for the
sake of health and to prepare the body for the
exertion which it might at any moment be
required to undergo. In my own remembrance,
my uncle used often to bring home a deer on
his shoulder. The distance was sometimes
great for any man to carry such a load, yet he
did not consider it any sort of a feat to perform.
The usual custom with us was to eat only
two meals a day, and these were served at each
end of the day. This rule was not invariable,
however; for if there should be any callers, it
was Indian etiquette to offer either tobacco or
food, or both. The rule of two meals a day was
more closely observed by the men-especially
the younger men-than by the women. This
was when the Indians recognized that a true
manhood, one of physical skill and activity,
depends upon dieting and regular exercise.
No such system is practised by the reservation
Indians of to-day.

(To be continued.)



THERE 's a queer little man lives And his wrinkles, too-oh, I know he 's
down the street wise!
Where two of the broadest highways meet, And then just think of the way he makes
In a queer little house that 's half of it glass, The corn all jump into snowy flakes
With windows open to all
who pass,
And a low little roof that's
nearly flat,
And a chimney as black
as Papa's best hat.
Oh, the house is built on
this funny plan
Because it 's the home of
the pop-corn man!

How does he sleep, if he
sleeps at all ?
He must roll up like a
rubber ball,\ \
Or like a squirrel, and
store himself
All huddly-cuddly under
the shelf.
If he wanted to stretch he'd
scarce have space
In his bare little, spare
little, square little

cooped up in a can,
This brisk little, frisk lit-
tle p'op-corn man!

I know he 's wise by the
way he looks,
For he 's just like the men I 've seen in books, With a "pop pop pop in his covered pan,
With his hair worn off, and his squinty eyes, This queer little, dear little pop-corn man!



J. HEARD last summer a true story, which
seemed to me worthy the ear of ST. NICHOLAS.
It was narrated by a clergyman to a group of
young folks on a hotel piazza. I shall not tell
his name, because I know the story better than
the historian.
Several years ago this gentleman was living
in the German capital with his family. There
were many new sights and sounds to interest
the American family, but nothing more fasci-
nating than the colony of white storks which
settled on the adjacent housetops and made a
bird village of the nestled chimney-stacks.
The birds had such an air of proprietorship



and general coziness, that some member of the
family insisted that that particular part of the
city was the regular summer home of these
tourists, who returned to their old quarters each
season, in human fashion. This idea was not
accepted as fact, and there were many specula-
tions as to some possible means of testing the
theory. Not being up in the stork language,
no one could ask questions and get answers,
neither could any mortal remember the fine
points of stork physiognomy from year to year.

A plan was finally decided upon, and one
particularly aristocratic monarch-of-all-I-survey-
looking bird was enticed by a good dinner into
the garden. There a silver ring was placed
about his leg, on which was engraved, Berlin,
1888." He then flew back to his favorite chim-
ney, and ere long he joined the passing flocks
that were constantly leaving for the south.
Many a thought followed the feathered fugitive
during the long winter, and at the first sign of
spring eager eyes watched for the return of the
travelers. After many days. a distant line of



storks, far up in the blue, came into view. Over
the clergyman's house several detached them-
selves from the sky caravan and hovered
around the dwelling. A tempting feast was
prepared, and presently the weary pilgrims flew
down into the yard. Friendly eyes watched

every movement with joyous welcome. Ima-
gine the surprise when one of the flock was seen
to have two silver rings upon its legs!
Behold! the old ring was back again, and
accompanying it another, which read: "India
sends greeting to Berlin."



IT is quite true that a goodly number of
books and articles about animals have been
printed for the special benefit of Uncle Sam's
boys and girls. But how many are there, think
you, out of every thousand of those same young
people who have a clear knowledge of the
grand divisions of the animal kingdom ? Not
many, I fear. Why is this ? Chiefly because
those whose business it is to publish maga-
zines and books for the young have either
forgotten or neglected to lay for them a series
of foundation-stones on which they might build
intelligently all the rest of their lives. The
publishers of ST. NICHOLAS have decided to do
now what has been so long and so universally
left undone in this field. I have been invited
to select the choicest materials our country
can furnish, take mortar and trowel, and lay
for our boys and girls a foundation on which
they can build zoological knowledge with regu-
larity and precision.
Come, then, let us get together in a great
zoological observatory, and put over our door
this inscription:

After taking a bird's-eye view of the grand
divisions of the animal kingdom, let us then
cultivate the acquaintance of our nearest and
most interesting neighbors-the quadrupeds,
birds, reptiles, and fishes of North America.

Let us talk our talks and make our observa-
tions systematically, and leave for a while the
miscellaneous studies in natural history we have
hitherto been following. The animal kingdom
is not an animated crazy-quilt, but one long,
unbroken chain,--with a few side links here
and there, to be sure,-the unity and beauty
of which are seen to be most complete when
you follow it up or down, link by link.
In the matter of illustrations, the publishers
generously give "unlimited credit" on all the
sources of supply, with orders to get only the
best, and, in the words of Mrs. Jack Means,
" Git a plenty while y' 're a-gittin'." We are to
lay under contribution the best American mu-
seums and zoological gardens, and the best
artists and engravers, for the purpose of obtain-
ing the finest of animal illustrations, and plenty
of them.
How strange it is that while nearly all our
schools teach an unnecessary amount of higher
mathematics and dead-and-gone history, it is
a rare exception to find even a city high school
in which the boys and girls are taught syste-
matically about the inhabitants of the earth!
Even in some normal schools this is shamefully
neglected. Thus we are left to grow up, live,
and die without any systematic knowledge
of our neighbors,-and by neighbors I mean
not only man, but also the other animals of the
But," some one will say, I take no inter-
est in animals." That is merely the trade-mark
of zoological ignorance, my boy. If you only


knew something about them, you would. You
could not possibly help being interested in their
babyhood, and how they are reared, where they
live, what they live upon, what they do in win-
ter, how some of them build their homes, feed,
fight, play, and talk. Yes, talk. Why, cer-
tainly all the more highly organized animals
have languages of their own, and quite extensive
and wonderful some of their languages are, too.
Recently a great stir has been made by Pro-
fessor Garner, who has made the astounding dis-
covery (?) that monkeys have a language of
their own, and can talk to each other. Dear
me! And who ever said they could n't? I
suppose Mr. Garner will next discover that
Africa is. the darky continent, and the Dutch
have taken Holland! I have here at my left
elbow a two-volume book by Dr. W. L. Lind-
say, in which no less than five chapters are de-
voted to the subject of language among the
higher animals. There is probably not a single
species of bird or quadruped but has a language
of its own. Every farmer's boy knows perfectly
the language of his chickens,-quite an exten-
sive language it is, too,- and can interpret cor-
rectly every sound they make; But there,-we

must not stray into by-paths the first thing, no
matter how full of interest they may be.
To start fair with my reader, I wish to say
that while the zoological sketches I shall offer
will be meant to contain facts that are interest-
ing and entertaining, and on the whole easy
reading, they will be offered with the serious
purpose of telling you what every one of Uncle
Sam's boys and girls ought to know as a
matter of common education. You may never
get the like in any school you attend, unless
you should take the scientific course in some
good college or university; and this series, re-
member, is offered as something to remember
and use for the rest of your lives. For instance,
if you intend to become a minister, I would not
have you make the mistake once made by a
revivalist in Texas. In his sermon he chose the
coyote as an illustration of fierce bloodthirsti-
ness and horrible danger to the traveler. But
his moral missed fire completely, for the cow-
boys, who knew the coyote as the king of
cowards, laughed him to scorn, and refused to
accept a moral on that basis.
Our first step is to take a good look at a
map of the universe, find the places where our


The study of Nature's
works and forces.

GEOLOGY........ The study of the creation
earth and its changes.
MINERALOGY .... The study of the miner
NATURAL HISTORY: rock elements of the
The study of Nature's crust.
common works. BOTANY ......... The science of plant life.

Zo5LOGY ....... The science of animal life
ANTHROPOLOGY. .The scientific study of m

The science of the com- Various subdivisions.
position of things.

is works.

of the

al and

an and

SASTRONOMY. The study of the heavenly bodies.
PHYSICAL SCIENCE: PHYSIcs........ The science of the forces and
The study of Nature's principles of inanimate nature.
elements and forces.
METEOROLOGY.. The scientific study of the earth's
I atmosphere.
[NOTE: The subjects illustrated in this paper have been selected with care to represent perfect types of
each of the fourteen great classes of animals. (See page 236.) Thus, the Baltimore oriole is chosen as the
most perfect bird type because (I) it is a good flier;' (2) it is a perching bird; (3) it has beautiful plumage;
(4) it has a beautiful song; (5) it builds a truly wonderful nest; (6) it feeds on both insects and grain; and
(7) it has fixed habits of migration.]



objects, methodically classified, arranged, and
made permanently useful. The science of zo-
ology (pronounced zo-ol-o-gy, not zoo-ol-o-gy) is
the systematic study of animals. And this
brings us to the laying of
Our Corner-stone. An animal" is any mem-
ber of the animal kingdom, no matter whether
it be quadruped, bird, reptile, or fish, insect,
crab, or jellyfish. Unfortunately, a great num-
ber of English-speaking people have fallen into
the mischievous habit of saying animal" when-
,' v ever they mean quadruped," or "mammal."
If I can teach all the readers of ST. NICHOLAS
to adopt and use hereafter the good, simple,


work is to be done, and study the location and
surroundings of what is to be our zoSlogical
"What is zoology, anyway ? says eleven-
year-old Helen.
Let us see what it is, and also where it is
with reference to the rest of this great universe.
On the opposite page is a classification de-
signed to show you all this and much more
in a very few words. I desire to place it "on
file" with you, as a reference map of our
And what is "science," do you ask? A very
proper question. Science is a collection of de-
tailed facts about any class or group of natural

Ys~t~.-~ c

sensible word mammal, instead of "animal,"
when speaking of quadrupeds, I shall feel that
I have not lived in vain.
And now for something interesting the
grand divisions, the Europe-Asia-and-Africa, as
one might say, of the animal kingdom. If there
is one thing more than another that professional
naturalists cannot agree upon, it is the syste-


VOL. XXI.-30.




matic arrangement or
classification of the ani-
mal kingdom. As for
myself, a mere private
in the ranks, the laws of
common sense compel
me to reject one feature
of the most commonly
accepted list of clas-
sification, which gives
to all vertebrate (or
backboned) animals
combined mammals,



birds, reptiles, and fishes-the same rank
in the scale of arrangement as is given to
the insects alone, and corals alone, and even to
worms! This means, for example, that the dif-

____ 'I~i 'P1ayi



butterflies, and bees. I cannot accept an ar-
rangement which degrades the greatest and
most important groups of animals, and promotes
to the highest rank (called branch) the various
groups below the vertebrates.
Classification of natural objects is simply a



means by which to arrive at a clear knowledge
of a multitude of different forms, and an aid to
the memory in keeping each one in its place.
On page 236 is the arrangement which I be-

ferences between mammals, birds, reptiles, and
fishes are no greater, and are of no higher im-
portance, than the differences between the va-
rious orders of insects
-beetles, grasshoppers,



~L- -- --





lieve conveys to the mind of the student the
clearest and most truthful idea of nature's own
grand divisions of the animal kingdom, and the
position occupied by each. If all the living
creatures of the world were thrown together on
a plain in one great creeping, crawling, yowling
mass, and we were called upon to sort them out
as perfectly as possible in a week's time, these
REATLY are the various baskets we would naturally put
NIFIED.) them in during the first general sorting-out:



S Animals with a
O spinal column
0 and internal bony
S skeleton.


Class. General Characters.
MAMMALS .....Warm-blooded creatures that bring forth their young alive
and suckle them. Hairy; air-breathing.
BIRDS ........ Warm-blooded; young hatched from eggs; feathered, and
can fly. All air-breathing.
REPTILES ...... Cold-blooded; egg-layers. Some amphibious, and most
are either scaly or shell-covered.
BATRACHIANS..The connecting-links between reptiles and fishes.
FISHES ....... Cold-blooded; strictly aquatic; mostly scaly; possessing
gills and fins.
INSECTS ....... Body divided into three parts; blood purified by tubes in
the body; reproduce by metamorphoses.
CRUSTACEANS.. Covered by hard shell; gill-breathing; mainly aquatic.
MOLLUSKS. .... Covered by a hard, limy shell.
WORMS .......True worms, and also zoological odds and ends that do not
quite fit in any of the other classes.
STARFISHES ... Salt-water animals, with a star-like or radiate structure.
CORALS ....... Soft-bodied salt-water animals, some of which build up
solid masses of their limy skeletons.
JELLYFISHES .Disk-shaped, gelatinous sea-animals, having no hard parts.
SPONGES P....Plant-like aquatic animals, without power to move; skele-
ton of tough, fibrous cells.
PROTOZOANS...The lowest forms of animal life, beginning with the single
cell. Mostly microscopic.











This is offered to you as the ground-plan of these fourteen classes into about 112 orders, a
what will be-if you wish it so-our great task which we will not enter upon, for we have
zoological building. now before us in the next paper something
A step farther would mean the subdivision of vastly more pleasing and interesting.
(To be contHiued.)



I FOUND one night
In my candle's light,-
The soot was lumpy and black in the flame,-
A witch's head
With eyes of red,
And I wondered whence she came.

Said I, 0 Witch in the candle-light,
Where is my lost doll hid?

Why don't I get all my lessons right?
And always do as I 'm bid? "

But the little witch looked angry and black,
And never a word she said;
So with Grandmama's snuffers I went "snick-
And scampered away to bed.



WHO and what were the Brownies? and did believed to inhabit the forests of Scotland long
Palmer Cox invent them? are questions that years ago; and Mr. Cox chose them for his
come to Mr. Cox from children all over the rhymes in preference to all other little people
country, because they were such good little things, never
The Brownies were fairies or sprites who were mischievous or naughty like the greater part of


I FOUND one night
In my candle's light,-
The soot was lumpy and black in the flame,-
A witch's head
With eyes of red,
And I wondered whence she came.

Said I, 0 Witch in the candle-light,
Where is my lost doll hid?

Why don't I get all my lessons right?
And always do as I 'm bid? "

But the little witch looked angry and black,
And never a word she said;
So with Grandmama's snuffers I went "snick-
And scampered away to bed.



WHO and what were the Brownies? and did believed to inhabit the forests of Scotland long
Palmer Cox invent them? are questions that years ago; and Mr. Cox chose them for his
come to Mr. Cox from children all over the rhymes in preference to all other little people
country, because they were such good little things, never
The Brownies were fairies or sprites who were mischievous or naughty like the greater part of


Fairyland's diminutive population. The Brown-
ies never showed themselves to men, never
gave advice or charms, but went quietly about
doing good, seeking out every one in trouble in
order to afford relief. Their work was ac-
complished wholly during the night, for it was
believed that should the sun
shine upon them, his rays
would be fatal.
How did the artist dis-
cover what the little crea-
tures looked like? He
searched everywhere for in-
formation, in all the musty
old books he could find that
contained accounts of fair-
ies or fairy-pictures:; hut of
course there were no pho-
tographs of the Brownies, as
no one had ever seen them;
so he was obliged to make..
them according to his own
idea of what a fun-loving, _
good-natured sprite might
be. At first all the Brown-
ies drawn by Mr. Cox were
alike round-faced, thin-
legged little fellows wearing
pointed caps. Soon he began '
to introduce the different
personages. The Irishman
was the first new figure l
seen in the gay company,
and, in all the stories that
followed, Mr. Cox con-
tinued to add new char-
acters until the list has
become almost full. Some-
times the characters would
suggest themselves to him;
sometimes an idea received from an admiring
reader would be carried out. A few days after
the verses in which the Brownie Indian ap-
peared for the first time had been sent to press,
the following queer request from a little chap
in Dakota reached the artist:
DEAR MR. Cox: Please make a Brownie Indian
with feathers.
To the little writer the feathers were the dis-
tinguishing mark of an Indian, for he lived

among them, and was very familiar with their
style of dress. When the boy discovered the
Indian, made purposely to please him (he
thought), and dressed in full war-costume with
the desired feathers, his delight knew no bounds;
and another letter was written thanking the

,a ,


artist, and advising him to keep an eye on the
new member, because," explained the boy,
"the Indian looks very savage, and might
scalp the Dude and spoil his complexion."
Another little boy, very fond of horses, wanted
a jockey Brownie.
Very often little girls write to ask why there
are no girl Brownies; they seem to consider
themselves neglected-not finding any one to
represent them among their favorites. But



'=- ;~U~

V ~f -;F


tradition says there were no girl Brownies -
another difference found between them and all
other kinds of fairies. Notwithstanding this
fact, there is a little girl in Maryland who has
been called for them, her real name being
" Brownie." To her Mr. Cox sent the auto-
graph verse printed on page 241.
In a big box in a dark closet Mr. Cox keeps
hundreds of letters received from boys and

bed late, and is usually among the last to arrive
at the meeting-place, but they are fond of him
all the same. On the whole, the Dude seems
to be the favorite, as even the boys show a
preference for him. But their devotion is not
so entire as that of the girls; naturally, they
take a great interest in the Policeman and the
The Brownie wearing the crown is not the


girls all over the United States, Canada, and
also from across the ocean; and even now not
a day passes but he finds three or four chil-
dren's letters in his mail.
Every letter is faithfully answered, and the
artist's correspondents often make him laugh
by the funny things they ask, and the amusing
stories they tell. But the greater number of
these letters contain merely thanks and expres-
sions of appreciation. The children love the
Brownies, so they cannot resist the desire to
tell Mr. Cox about it. All the little girls who
write to him prefer the Dude to the others, be-
cause he is always so nicely dressed. They
admit he is inclined to be lazy, likes to lie in

king, Mr. Cox is often called upon to explain.
He merely took the crown from one of the
palaces they visited, and has worn it ever
since; but it gives him no authority, as
their government is strictly republican. The
Twins, being the oldest Brownies, take a fa-
therly care of the others, assisting them when
they are hurt or in difficulties. In case any
particular Brownie happens to be missing from
one or two stories, the children are anxious to
know whether he is dead, or what has become
of him; but there is no need for the children
to fear, for none of the Brownies can ever come
to serious harm.
Mr. Cox's youngest correspondent is but two



years and nine months old-so tiny, in fact, others in the olden times in Scotland; and it is
that his mama is obliged to write his letters, for this reason that he never destroys anything
This little fellow is desirous of knowing "dus' in any way connected with them. On the walls
[just] where the Brownies go bed." Numbers of his studio are some toy Brownies made of
of others ask the same question, as they often cloth, wire, and chamois-skin; they were sent

i~t~ ~ LrCI
rytc-u~L~ ~LLM "i' Cp~ /aY~e

~c /3n~u;v~Lc~ iyLLt cM~Lcr' /,e,,,, ~

f~f~N~-~-C ~ 2~u3~ ~---I

wonder where the Brownies go when the stars
go out." Two little boys even refused to obey
their mother's injunction to "be good and go
to sleep," giving as their reason for refusing to
do so that the Brownies are good and they
never go to sleep. In order to convince them,
their mother wrote to Mr. Cox, who replied
that of course the Brownies sleep, as every one
must; but they sleep on beds of soft moss and
leaves deep in the woods where it is dark, as
they are obliged to take their rest in the
The first Brownie story came out in October,

to him by the lady who first manufactured
them, to secure his approval before putting them
on the market. It took her a year to get them
to look just like those in the books. Four
more Brownies stand on one of his desks; they
are "green"-looking things made of eggs, and
were given to him as an Easter offering by two
sisters in Detroit. The heads and bodies are
formed of separate eggs, the arms and legs of
wire, and their clothes of tissue-paper. The
little artists succeeded admirably in painting in
water-colors the expressions of all four. Be-
sides, the common Brownie and those already

1882, long before many of those who love them mentioned, there are the Chinaman, the Indian,
to-day were born. The Brownies have brought and the Dutchman.
good luck to Mr. Cox, as they used to do for Brownie Land or, in other words, Mr.
VOL. XXI.-31.



Cox's studio, on Broadway, New York -does
not in the least resemble what we should
imagine a fairies' hiding-place to be. We
would fancy a dimly lighted room, full of all
kinds of queer old-fashioned furniture and
hangings, forming nooks and corners where
the little sprites could play at hide-and-seek,
or conceal themselves at the approach of hu-
man footsteps. Instead, the room is large and
very light, with five windows through which
comes the continual echo of the city's busy
life; though there are, of course, cozy corners

and hiding-places from which the Brownies
might peep to watch their friend at work. It
is at a very business-like desk, covered with
pencils, pens, brushes for India-ink, and paper,
that the artist seats himself when he wishes to
enrich some page with a new picture to delight
his thousands of small readers.
But in spite of his commonplace surround-
ings, the noise of heavy carts and the never-
quiet street-cars, Palmer Cox manages to hear
the Brownies chat, and to see all they do, as
his verses and pictures prove.




HE infant year scarce
toddled o'er
The threshold of
Time's open
To show the date that
far and near
Must now at letter-heads appear,
When Brownies answered to a call
That promised pleasant times for all.
Said one, "A rest we have enjoyed
Since last our hands have been employed,
Or since with glee we rambled round
Through many a strange historic ground.
Here in the Old Bay State' we '11 find
Much that may well engross the mind;
Although no ancient castles throw
Their shadows on the waves below,
As by the Tweed, the Rhine, or Rhone,
Or other streams as widely known,
This land, believe me, is not weak
In points the tourist well may seek.
This granite monument so high
That here is pointing to the sky,
And draws the traveler's eyes long ere
He comes within the city fair,
Soon calls to mind the clash and din
That bright June morning ushered in,
When up the steep and slippery slope,

With leveled steel came Britain's hope
In even lines, with even tread,
And crimson banners overhead."
Another said, "'T is true, indeed,
As one may on the tablet read,
This is the spot where Warren fell,
Upon that day when rang the bell
Of Freedom through the startled land,
To call to arms each valiant band.
Here bravely up the grassy steep
The British came, in columns deep,
To backward roll from volleys hot
Of bullets, slugs, and partridge-shot,
Or whatsoever men
could pour
Or ram into the
Smoking bore."
N T Soon round and
f round the wind-
ing stair
They ran to climb
the tall affair,
To reach to topmost windows small,
And gain a bird's-eye view of all.
It was, indeed, a pleasing sight:
The city in a blaze of light,
With streets and squares and pleasure-grounds
Marked out with lamps to farthest bounds.
They hurried round from place to place


With nimble feet and beaming face;
Now through the Public Garden strayed,
Then in the Boston Common played,
Until a striking clock would prove
The time had come for them to move.
Upon the old church spire they gazed
Where long ago the signal blazed
That gave the hint to Paul Revere
To mount his steed and disappear
Into the darkness, far away
His hasty tidings to convey.
Not satisfied to simply stare
Upon the church from street or square,

-' ;~b -- -~



The Brownies to the belfry went
To look around; then, well content,
They started off to make a call
On old time-honored Faneuil Hall.
There they stood round and "speechified"
From balconies on either side,
And talked about the
times when there
The angry people did
Till every nook and
foot of space
Was crowded with the
To Cambridge, with
inquiring mind,
The Brownies traveled
next, to find
The ancient oak be-
neath whose shade
Stood Washington to
draw his blade





~~ I


With solemn vows to take command
Of his bold, patriotic band.
They tarried there to climb about
And study old inscriptions out.
And then away to Plymouth Rock

The Brownies ran, a lively flock;
For lightly does the Brownie go,
And skims the meadow like. a crow,
When there is need of extra haste,
Or few the minutes he can waste.
When that historic spot was found,
In groups the Brownies stood around
To talk about the daring few
Whose spirit nothing could subdue.
They entered boats, and, pulling out
Some space from
.. sl tl'c. t T urr,-
~i~I1 .u u



r, I

j j
8' 1

And made a rush, to show the way
The Pilgrims acted on that day
When it was counted much to be
The first to place a foot or knee

Nor let companions call in vain.
They don't look round to see who '11 fling
His coat aside, the first to spring
Without a thought but one- to save

Upon the rough though welcome beach,
So far from persecution's reach.
Some jumped, while water still was deep,
And down they went to take a peep
At submarine attractions spread
Where clams and lobsters make a bed;
But, rising, found a friendly hand
Prepared to drag them to the land;
For Brownies note each other's woe,
And quickly to the rescue go;
Through flood or fire they '11 dash amain,




A fellow-creature from the grave:
They go themselves. Thus oft you '11 find
A dozen with a single mind -
Each striving to be first to lend
Assistance to a suffering friend.

Said one, when he had gained
the ear
Of dripping comrades standing
No wonder that the Pilgrims
A lengthy breath when they
got through
The jumping in and crawling
That marked their landing
And much the Indians must have been
Surprised to see those stalwart men

So eager to find footing here
Upon the Western Hemisphere."

The Brownies now to Lowell sped,
And then away to Marblehead;
On Salem next their eyes were thrown--
That has a history of its own.
And then to old Nantucket strand
With eager glances moved the band,
Where they could gain no stinted view
Of ocean rolling deep and blue.


"* ':-" ..

S u, rry, scurry Through the 5nhov
Bobby's sId and Bobby o .
In the 5torm or pleasant whether,
Bolby and his sled tether.

Blow your fingers, stamp your toes,
Dont let Jack Trost nip your nose
Up the hill, and down gain:
Lots of fun for itdle men.

/-/ 4/



ROLL your ball of snow, children,
Roll your ball of snow!
The more you roll your snowball up,
The bigger it will grow!

Roll a kind thought round, children,
Roll it all around!
Until it gathers all kind thoughts
That gentle hearts have found.

/ i




WHEN yOU find a certain lack
In the stiffness of your back
At a threatened fierce attack,
Just the hour
That you need your every power,
Look a bit
For a thought to baffle it.
Just recall that every knave,
Every coward, can be brave
Till the time
That his courage should be prime--
Then 't is fled.
Keep your head
What a folly 't is to lose it
Just the time you want to use it!

When the ghost of some old shirk
Comes to.plague you, and to lurk
In your study or your work,
Here 's a hit
Like enough will settle it.
Knowledge is a worthy prize;
Knowledge comes to him who tries--
Whose endeavor
Ceases never.
Everybody would be wise
As his neighbor,
Were it not that they who labor

For the trophy creep, creep, creep,
While the others lag or sleep;
And the sun comes up some day
To behold one on his way
Past the goal
Which the soul
Of another has desired,
But whose motto was, "I 'm tired."

When the task of keeping guard
Of your heart -
Keeping weary watch and ward
Of the part
You are called upon to play
Every day -
Is becoming dry and hard,-
Conscience languid, virtue irksome,
Good behavior growing worksome,--
Think this thought:
Doubtless everybody could,
Doubtless everybody would,
Be superlatively good,
Were it not
That it 's harder keeping straight
Than it is to deviate;
And to keep the way of right,
You must have the pluck to fight.



LAURA, Lady Laura, was a beautiful doll
who lived with some children in a big brick
house on a hill, a mile away from the city.
These children- Mary and Alice and Susy
and Jenny and Julia and Polly and Linda and
Sarah and Fanny and Winny and Dora and
Ethel, and many others-all lived together, with

kind people to take care of them, because they
were children who had no fathers and mothers.
Lady Laura had come to them as a present.
She was to be a playmate for them all.
One of the little girls, Ethel, could not hear
or speak. She could laugh and run and play,
but when she wanted to talk she had to make



WHEN yOU find a certain lack
In the stiffness of your back
At a threatened fierce attack,
Just the hour
That you need your every power,
Look a bit
For a thought to baffle it.
Just recall that every knave,
Every coward, can be brave
Till the time
That his courage should be prime--
Then 't is fled.
Keep your head
What a folly 't is to lose it
Just the time you want to use it!

When the ghost of some old shirk
Comes to.plague you, and to lurk
In your study or your work,
Here 's a hit
Like enough will settle it.
Knowledge is a worthy prize;
Knowledge comes to him who tries--
Whose endeavor
Ceases never.
Everybody would be wise
As his neighbor,
Were it not that they who labor

For the trophy creep, creep, creep,
While the others lag or sleep;
And the sun comes up some day
To behold one on his way
Past the goal
Which the soul
Of another has desired,
But whose motto was, "I 'm tired."

When the task of keeping guard
Of your heart -
Keeping weary watch and ward
Of the part
You are called upon to play
Every day -
Is becoming dry and hard,-
Conscience languid, virtue irksome,
Good behavior growing worksome,--
Think this thought:
Doubtless everybody could,
Doubtless everybody would,
Be superlatively good,
Were it not
That it 's harder keeping straight
Than it is to deviate;
And to keep the way of right,
You must have the pluck to fight.



LAURA, Lady Laura, was a beautiful doll
who lived with some children in a big brick
house on a hill, a mile away from the city.
These children- Mary and Alice and Susy
and Jenny and Julia and Polly and Linda and
Sarah and Fanny and Winny and Dora and
Ethel, and many others-all lived together, with

kind people to take care of them, because they
were children who had no fathers and mothers.
Lady Laura had come to them as a present.
She was to be a playmate for them all.
One of the little girls, Ethel, could not hear
or speak. She could laugh and run and play,
but when she wanted to talk she had to make


letters with her fingers, and spell out whatever
words she wanted to say.
One day, when Ethel was playing with Lady
Laura, she laughed out with great delight.
What do you think she had found? Why, a
wonderful thing, to be sure! Lady Laura could
talk with her fingers !
The pretty doll's arms and hands were of
kid, and each finger and thumb had a wire
in it.
Ethel had found that she could bend Lady
Laura's wee fingers into the shapes of the
letters. After this wonderful discovery, Ethel
had grand fun with Lady Laura.
When they played "tea-party," Ethel's fingers
would spell out words like these:

"Will you have sugar?"
And then she would take Lady Laura's tiny
kid hand, and bend the fingers into these
shapes; and this would be Lady Laura's reply:

Six lumps, please."
I could not begin to tell you of all the fine
plays they had together. Lady Laura was
always ready to talk as much as Ethel wished;
and she could spell just as well as Ethel could,
Ethel grew very fond of Lady Laura, and
Ilked. hi iitl r .-, im.i:u h th.ir L ad iaura. had
ro g rt i the ll i,:,,-pit l -i nil r new
Ila n,.s in, ma rrnm.s L.efore
Etl had gr.'wnv to.) big
a girl to:* pl.iy with
licr any n-ore.

VOL. XXI.-32.


(For Frisky Young Mathematicians.)


IT is well known that the square of any
number can be readily obtained; also the cube,
the fourth power, and so on. Thus, the square
of two is four, the cube is eight, the fourth
power is sixteen, etc. Likewise in algebra it
is not difficult to find the successive powers of
various quantities. For example, the square
of m is Mn2, the cube is m3, the fourth power

is mi, etc. Or a polynomial, as a+ 6, can be
similarly involved.
Now, everybody knows what a square looks
like, and everybody knows just how a cube
looks; if not, the children of the kindergarten
can tell us, for they all learn those two shapes.
The question here proposed is:
What does the fourth power look like ?



[Begun in the November number.]

I WAS so weak that the only thing I wanted
was a chance to lay down, so I made straight
for my locker-bunk, and stretched myself out
there. But a body could n't get back his
strength in no such oven as that, so Tom give
the command to soar, and Jim started her
We had to go up a mile before we struck
comfortable weather where it was breezy and
pleasant and just right, and pretty soon I was
all straight again. Tom had been setting quiet
and thinking; but now he jumps up and says:
I bet you a thousand to one I know where
we are. We 're in the Great Sahara, as sure as
He was so excited he could n't hold still;
but I was n't. I says:
"Well, then, where 's the Great Sahara ? In
England or in Scotland ? "
"'T ain't in either, it 's in Africa."
Jim's eyes bugged out, and he begun to stare
down with no end of interest, because that was
where his originals come from; but I did n't
more than half believe it. I could n't, you

know; it seemed too awful far away for us to
have traveled.
But Tom was full of his discovery, as he
called it, and said the lions and the sand meant
the Great Desert, sure. He said he could 'a'
found out, before we sighted land, that we was
crowding the land somewhere, if he had
thought of one thing; and when we asked him
what, he said:
"These clocks. They 're chronometers.
You always read about them in sea voyages.
One of them is keeping Grinnage time, and the
other is keeping St. Louis time, like my watch.
When we left St. Louis it was four in the after-
noon by my watch and this clock, and it was
ten at night by this Grinnage clock. Well, at
this time of the year the sun sets about seven
o'clock. Now I noticed the time yesterday
evening when the sun went down, and it was
half-past five o'clock by the Grinnage clock,
and half-past eleven A. M. by my watch and the
other clock. You see, the sun rose and set
by my watch in St. Louis, and the Grinnage
clock was six hours fast; but we 've come so
far east that it comes within less than half an
hour of setting by the Grinnage clock, now, and
I 'm away out more than four hours and a

(For Frisky Young Mathematicians.)


IT is well known that the square of any
number can be readily obtained; also the cube,
the fourth power, and so on. Thus, the square
of two is four, the cube is eight, the fourth
power is sixteen, etc. Likewise in algebra it
is not difficult to find the successive powers of
various quantities. For example, the square
of m is Mn2, the cube is m3, the fourth power

is mi, etc. Or a polynomial, as a+ 6, can be
similarly involved.
Now, everybody knows what a square looks
like, and everybody knows just how a cube
looks; if not, the children of the kindergarten
can tell us, for they all learn those two shapes.
The question here proposed is:
What does the fourth power look like ?



[Begun in the November number.]

I WAS so weak that the only thing I wanted
was a chance to lay down, so I made straight
for my locker-bunk, and stretched myself out
there. But a body could n't get back his
strength in no such oven as that, so Tom give
the command to soar, and Jim started her
We had to go up a mile before we struck
comfortable weather where it was breezy and
pleasant and just right, and pretty soon I was
all straight again. Tom had been setting quiet
and thinking; but now he jumps up and says:
I bet you a thousand to one I know where
we are. We 're in the Great Sahara, as sure as
He was so excited he could n't hold still;
but I was n't. I says:
"Well, then, where 's the Great Sahara ? In
England or in Scotland ? "
"'T ain't in either, it 's in Africa."
Jim's eyes bugged out, and he begun to stare
down with no end of interest, because that was
where his originals come from; but I did n't
more than half believe it. I could n't, you

know; it seemed too awful far away for us to
have traveled.
But Tom was full of his discovery, as he
called it, and said the lions and the sand meant
the Great Desert, sure. He said he could 'a'
found out, before we sighted land, that we was
crowding the land somewhere, if he had
thought of one thing; and when we asked him
what, he said:
"These clocks. They 're chronometers.
You always read about them in sea voyages.
One of them is keeping Grinnage time, and the
other is keeping St. Louis time, like my watch.
When we left St. Louis it was four in the after-
noon by my watch and this clock, and it was
ten at night by this Grinnage clock. Well, at
this time of the year the sun sets about seven
o'clock. Now I noticed the time yesterday
evening when the sun went down, and it was
half-past five o'clock by the Grinnage clock,
and half-past eleven A. M. by my watch and the
other clock. You see, the sun rose and set
by my watch in St. Louis, and the Grinnage
clock was six hours fast; but we 've come so
far east that it comes within less than half an
hour of setting by the Grinnage clock, now, and
I 'm away out more than four hours and a


r Y ';` CIL;.4 L

-~ .........~ v..... -

AEk v
.1 ft

(SEE PAGE 253.)





half out. You see, that meant that we was
closing up on the longitude of Ireland, and
would strike it before long if we was p'inted
right-which we was n't. No, sir, we 've been
a-wandering -wandering 'way down south of
east, and it 's my opinion we are in Africa.
Look at this map. You see how the shoulder
of Africa sticks out to the west. Think how
fast we 've traveled; if we had gone straight
east we would be long past England by this
time. You watch for noon, all of you, and
we '11 stand up, and when we can't cast a
shadow we '11 find that this Grinnage clock is
coming mighty close
to marking twelve.
Yes, sir, I think we 're
in Africa; and it 's
just bully."
Jim was gazing ,
down with the glass.
He shook his head -,
and says: :,
"Mars Tom, I .
reckon dey 's a mis- .
take som'er's. I hain't
seen no niggers yit."
"That 's nothing;
they don't live in the
desert. What is that,
'way off yonder? Gim-
me a glass." .
He took a long -.
look, and said it was
like a black string
stretched across the -"-
sand, but he could n't
guess what it was.
Well," I says, "I THE LAST MAN TO GO SN
reckon maybe you 've 0
got a chance, now, to find out whereabouts
this balloon is, because as like as not that is
one of these lines here, that 's on the map, that
you call meridians of longitude, and we can
drop down and look at its number, and-"
Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, I never see such
a lunkhead as you. Did you s'pose there 's
meridians of longitude on the earth ? "
"Tom Sawyer, they 're set down on the map,
and you know it perfectly well, and here they
are, and you can see for yourself."

Of course they 're on the map, but that 's
nothing; there ain't any on the ground."
"Tom, do you know that to be so ? "
Certainly I do."
"Well, then, that map 's a liar again. I
never see such a liar as that map."
He fired up at that, and I was ready for him,
and Jim was warming his opinion, too, and next
minute we 'd 'a' broke loose on another argu-
ment, if Tom had n't dropped the glass and
begun to clap his hands like a maniac and
sing out-
Camels!- Camels! "

<' ,
x3 i ,,

So I grabbed a glass, and Jim, too, and took
a look, but I was disappointed, and says-
Camels your granny, they 're spiders."
"Spiders in a desert, you shad? Spiders
walking in a procession? You don't ever
reflect, Huck Finn, and I reckon you really
have n't got anything to reflect with. Don't
you know we 're as much as a mile up in the
air, and that that string of crawlers is two or
three miles away ? Spiders, good land! Spi-
ders as big as a cow ? Perhaps you 'd like to



go down and milk one of 'em. But they 're
camels, just the same. It 's a caravan, that's
what it is, and it 's a mile long."
Well, then, le' 's go down and look at it. I
don't believe in it, and ain't going to till I see
it and know it."
"All right," he says, and give the command:
" Lower away."
As we come slanting down into the hot
weather, we could see that it was camels, sure
enough, plodding along, an everlasting string of
them, with bales strapped to them, and several
hundred men in long white robes, and a thing
like a shawl bound over their heads and hang-
ing down with tassels and fringes; and some
of the men had long guns and some had n't,
and some was riding and some was walking.
And the weather-well, it was just roasting.
And how slow they did creep along! We
swooped down, now, all of a sudden, and
stopped about a hundred yards over their
The men all set up a yell, and some of them
fell flat on their stomachs, some begun to fire
their guns at us, and the rest broke and scam-
pered every which way, and so did the camels.
We see that we was making trouble, so we
went up again about a mile, to the cool weather,
and watched them from there. It took them
an hour to get together and form the proces-
sion again; then they started along, but we
could see by the glasses that they was n't
paying much attention to anything but us.
We poked along, looking down at them with
the glasses, and by and by we see a big sand
mound, and something like people the other
side of it, and there was something like a man
laying on top of the mound, that raised his
head up every now and then, and seemed to
be watching the caravan or us, we did n't know
which. As the caravan got nearer, he sneaked
down on the other side and rushed to the other
men and horses for that is what they was -
and we see them mount in a hurry; and next,
here they come, like a house afire, some with
lances and some with long guns, and all of
them yelling the best they could.
They come a-tearing down onto the caravan,
and the next minute both sides crashed toge-
ther and was all mixed up, and there was such

another popping of guns as you never heard,
and the air got so full of smoke you could only
catch glimpses of them struggling together.
There must 'a' been six hundred men in that bat-
tle, and it was terrible to see. Then they broke
up into gangs and groups, fighting tooth and
nail, and scurrying and scampering around, and
laying into each other like everything; and
whenever the smoke cleared a little you could
see dead and wounded people and camels scat-
tered far and wide and all about, and camels
racing off in every direction.
At last the robbers see they could n't win, so
their chief sounded a signal, and all that was
left of them broke away and went scampering
across the plain. The last man to go snatched
up a child and carried it off in front of him on
his horse, and a woman run screaming and
begging after him, and followed him away off
across the plain till she was separated a long
ways from her people; but it war n't no use,
and she had to give it up, and we see her sink
down on the sand and cover her face with her
hands. Then Tom took the hellum, and started
for that yahoo, and we come a-whizzing down
and made a swoop, and knocked him out of the
saddle, child and all; and he was jarred con-
siderable, but the child was n't hurt, but laid
there working its hands and legs in the air like
a tumble-bug that 's on its back and can't turn
over. The man went staggering off to overtake
his horse, and did n't know what had hit him,
for we was three or four hundred yards up in
the air by this time.
We judged the woman would go and get the
child, now; but she did n't. We could see her,
through the glass, still setting there, with her
head bowed down on her knees; so of course
she had n't seen the performance, and thought
her child was clean gone with the man. She
was nearly a half a mile from her people, so we
thought we might go down to the child, which
was about a quarter of a mile beyond her, and
snake it to her before the caravan people could
git to us to do us any harm; and besides, we
reckoned they had enough business on their
hands for one while, anyway, with the wounded.
We thought we 'd chance it, and we did. We
swooped down and stopped, and Jim shinned
down the ladder and fetched up the kid, which



was a nice fat little thing, and in a noble good
humor, too, considering it was just out of a
battle and been tumbled off of a horse; and then
we started for the mother, and stopped back of
her and tolerable near by, and Jim slipped down
and crept up easy, and when he was close back
of her the child goo-goo'd, the way a child
does, and she heard it, and whirled and fetched
a shriek of joy, and made a jump for the kid and
snatched it and hugged it, and dropped it and
hugged Jim, and then snatched off a gold chain
and hung it around Jim's neck, and hugged
him again, and jerked up the child again, a-sob-
bing and glorifying all the time; and Jim he
shoved for the ladder and up it, and in a min-
ute we was back up in the sky and the woman
was staring up, with the back of her head be-

~-~x 2t


tween her shoulders and the child with its arms
locked around her neck. And there she stood,
as long as we was in sight a-sailing away in
the sky.
"NOON !" says Tom, and so it was. His
shadder was just a blot around his feet. We

looked, and the Grinnage clock was so close to
twelve the difference did n't amount to nothing.
So Tom said London was right north of us or
right south of us, one or t'other, and he reck-
oned by the weather and the sand and the
camels it was north; and a good many miles
north, too; as many as from New York to the
city of Mexico, he guessed.
Jim said he reckoned a balloon was a good
deal the fastest thing in the world, unless it
might be some kinds of birds-a wild pigeon,
maybe, or a railroad.
But Tom said he had read about railroads
in England going nearly a hundred miles an
hour for a little ways, and there never was
a bird in the world that could do that-
except one, and that was a flea.
"A flea? Why, Mars
Tom, in de fust place
he ain't a bird, strictly
"He ain't a bird, eh ?
Well, then, what is he ?"
I don't rightly know,
Mars Tom, but I speck
he's only jist a' animal.
No, I reckon dat won't
-- do, nuther, he ain't big
enough for a' animal.
""- He mus' be a bug. Yas-
sir, dat's what he is, he's
a bug."
"I bet be ain't, but
let it go. What's your
second place ?"
"Well, in de second
place, birds is creturs dat
goes a long ways, but a
_flea don't."
.- f_ He don't, don't he ?
Come, now, what is a
NOCKED HIM OUT OF THE long distance, if you
know ?"
Why, it 's miles, and lots of 'em- anybody
knows dat."
Can't a man walk miles?"
"Yassir, he kin."
As many as a railroad ?"
Yassir, if you give him time."
Can't a flea?"



"Well,--I s'pose so--ef you gives him heaps finger on him. Now that's a common, ordi-
of time." nary, third-class flea's gait; but you take an
Now you begin to see, don't you, that dis- Eyetalian first-class, that's been the pet of the
stance ain't the thing to judge by, at all; it's the nobility all his life, and has n't ever knowed


time it takes to go the distance in that counts,
ain't it ?"
"Well, hit do look sorter so, but I would n't
'a' believed it, Mars Tom."
"It's a matter ofproportion, that's what it is;
'and when you come to gauge a thing's speed by
its size, where 's your bird and your man and
your railroad, alongside of a flea? The fastest
man can't run more than about ten miles in an
hour-not much over ten thousand times his
own length. But all the books says any com-
mon ordinary third-class flea can jump a hun-
dred and fifty times his own length; yes, and he
can make five jumps a second too,--seven hun-
dred and fifty times his own length, in one little
second-for he don't fool away any time stop-
ping and starting--he does them both at the
same time; you '11 see, if you try to put your

what want or sickness or exposure was, and he
can jump more than three hundred times his
own length, and keep it up all day, five such
jumps every second, which is fifteen hundred
times his own length. Well, suppose a man
could go fifteen hundred times his own length
in a second-say, a mile and a half. It 's
ninety miles a minute; it 's considerable more
than five thousand miles an hour. Where 's
your man now?-yes, and your bird, and your
railroad, and your balloon ? Laws, they don't
amount to shucks alongsidee of a flea. A flea is
just a comet b'iled down small."
Jim was a good deal astonished, and so was
I. Jim said-
"Is dem figgers jist edjackly true, en no jokin'
en no lies, Mars Tom?"
"Yes, they are; they're perfectly true."




"Well, den, honey, a body 's got to respect'
a flea. I ain't had no respect' for um befo',
sca'sely, but dey ain't no gittin' roun' it, dey do
deserve it, dat "s certain."
"Well, I bet they do. They 've got ever so
much more sense, and brains, and brightness, in
proportion to their size, than any other cretur
in the world. A person can learn them 'most
anything; and they learn it quicker than any
other cretur, too. They 've been learnt to haul
little carriages in harness, and go this way
and that way and t'other way according to
their orders; yes, and to march and drill like
soldiers, doing it as exact, according to orders,
as soldiers does it. They 've been learnt to do
all sorts of hard and troublesome things.
S'pose you could cultivate a flea up to the
size of a man, and keep his natural smartness
a-growing and a-growing right along up, big-
ger and bigger, and keener and keener, in the
same proportion-where 'd the human race be,
do you reckon? That flea would be President
of the United States, and you could n't any more
prevent it than you can prevent lightning."
My lan', Mars Tom, I never knowed dey
was so much to de beas'. No, sir, I never had
no idea of it, and dat 's de fac'."

"There 's more to him, by a long sight, than
there is to any other cretur, man or beast, in
proportion to size. He 's the interestingest of

- ,"-

\ ^


them all. People have so much to say about
an ant's strength, and an elephant's, and a
locomotive's. Shucks, they don't begin with a
flea. He can lift two or three hundred times
his own weight. And none of them can come
anywhere near it. And moreover, he has got
notions of his own, and is very particular, and
you can't fool him; his instinct, or his judg-
ment, or whatever it is, is perfectly sound and
clear, and don't ever make a mistake. People
think all humans are alike to a flea. It ain't
so. There 's folks that he won't go near, hun-
gry or not hungry, and I 'm one of them. I 've
never had one of them on me in my life."
Mars Tom! "
It 's so; I ain't joking."
"Well, sah, I hain't ever heard de likes o'
dat, befo'."
Jim could n't believe it, and I could n't; so
we had to drop down to the sand and git a
supply and see. Tom was right. They went
for me and Jim by the thousand, but not a one
of them lit on Tom. There war n't no explain-
ing it, but there it was and there war n't no get-
ting around it. He said it had always been
just so, and he 'd just as soon be where there
was a million of them as not; they 'd never
touch him nor bother him.
We went up to the cold weather to freeze 'em
out, and stayed a little spell, and then come
back to the comfortable weather and went
lazying along twenty or twenty-five miles an
hour, the way we 'd been doing for the last
few hours. The reason was, that the longer we
was in that solemn, peaceful desert, the more
the hurry and fuss got kind of soothed down in
us, and the more happier and contented and
satisfied we got to feeling, and the more we
got to liking the desert, and then loving it. So
we had cramped the speed down, as I was
saying, and was having a most noble good
lazy time, sometimes watching through the
glasses, sometimes stretched out on the lockers
reading, sometimes taking a nap.
It did n't seem like we was the same lot that
was in such a state to find land and git
ashore, but it was. But we had got over that
-clean over it. We was used to the balloon,
now, and not afraid any more, and did n't
want to be anywhere else. Why, it seemed
VOL. XXI.-33.

just like home; it 'most seemed as if I had
been born and raised in it, and Jim and
Tom said the same. And always I had had
hateful people around me, a-nagging at me,
and pestering of me, and scolding, and find-
ing fault, and fussing and bothering, and
sticking to me, and keeping after me, and
making me do this, and making me do that
and t'other, and always selecting out the
things I did n't want to do, and then giving
me Sam Hill because I shirked and done
something else, and just aggravating the life
out of a body all the time; but up here in the
sky it was so still and sunshiny and lovely, and
plenty to eat, and plenty of sleep, and strange
things to see, and no nagging and no pestering,
and no good people, and just holiday all the
time. Land, I war n't in no hurry to git out
and buck at civilization again. Now, one of
the worst things about civilization is, that any-
body that gits- a letter with trouble in it comes
and tells you all about it and makes you feel
bad, and the newspapers fetches you the trou-
bles of everybody all over the world, and keeps
you down-hearted and dismal 'most all the
time, and it 's such a heavy load for a person.
I hate them newspapers; and I hate letters;
and if I had my way I would n't allow no-
body to load his troubles onto other folks he
ain't acquainted with, on t'other side of the
world, that way. Well, up in a balloon there
ain't any of that, and it's the darlingest place
there is.
We had supper, and that night was one of
the prettiest nights I ever see. The moon
made it just like daylight, only a heap softer;
and once we see a lion standing all alone by
himself, just all .alone on the earth, it seemed
like, and his shadder laid on the sand by him
like a puddle of ink. That 's the kind of moon-
light to have.
Mainly we laid on our backs and talked;
we did n't want to go to sleep. Tom said we
was right in the midst of the Arabian Nights,
now. He said it was right along here that
one of the cutest things in that book hap-
pened; so we looked down and watched while
he told about it, because there ain't anything
that is so interesting to look at as a place that
a book has talked about. It was a tale about



a camel-driver that had lost his camel, and he
come along in the desert and met a man, and
Have you run across a stray camel to-day ?"
And the man says-
"Was he blind in his left eye ?"
"'Had he lost an upper front tooth ?"
"Was his off hind leg lame ?"
Was he loaded with millet-seed on one side
and honey on the other ? "
Yes, but you need n't go into no more de-
tails--that 's the one, and I 'm in a hurry.
Where did you see him ?"
I hain't seen him at all," the man says.
Hain't seen him at all? How can you de-
scribe him so close, then.? "
Because when a person knows how to use
his eyes, everything has got a meaning to it;
but most people's eyes ain't any good to them.
I knowed a camel had been along, because I
seen his track. I knowed he was lame in his
off hind leg because he had favored that foot
and trod light on it, and his track showed it.
I knowed he was blind on his left side because
he only nibbled the grass on the right side of
the trail. I knowed he had lost an upper front
tooth because where he bit into the sod his
teeth-print showed it. The millet-seed sifted
out on one side -the ants told me that; the
honey leaked out on the other the flies told
me that. I know all about your camel, but I
hain't seen him."
Jim says -
Go on, Mars Tom, hit 's a mighty good
tale, and powerful interesting. "
"That 's all," Tom says.
"All? says Jim, astonished. "What 'come
o' de camel? "
I don't know."

Mars Tom, don't de tale say ?"
Jim puzzled a minute, then he says-
Well! Ef dat ain't de beatenes' tale ever I
struck. Jist gits to de place whah de intrust is
gittin' red-hot, en down she breaks. Why, Mars
Tom, dey ain't no sense in a tale dat acts like
dat. Hain't you got no idea whether de man
got de camel back er not ?"
No, I have n't."
I see, myself, there war n't no sense in the
tale, to chop square off, that way, before it
come to anything, but I war n't going to say
so, because I could see Tom was souring up
pretty fast over the way it flatted out and the
way Jim had popped onto the weak place
in it, and I don't think it 's fair for everybody
to pile onto a feller when he's down. But Tom
he whirls on me and says-
What do you think of the tale ? "
Of course, then, I had to come out and make
a clean breast and say it did seem to me, too, same
as it did to Jim, that as long as the tale stopped
square in the middle and never got to no place,
it really war n't worth the trouble of telling.
Tom's chin dropped on his breast, and 'stead
of being mad, as I reckoned he 'd be, to hear
me scoff at his tale that way, he seemed to be
only sad; and he says-
Some people can see, and some can't-
just as that man said. Let alone a camel, if a
cyclone had gone by, you duffers would n't 'a'
noticed the track."
I don't know what he meant by that, and he
did n't say; it was just one of his irrulevances,
I reckon--he was full of them, sometimes,
when he was in a close place and could n't see
no other way out but I did n't mind. We 'd
spotted the soft place in that tale sharp enough,
he could n't git away from that little fact. It
graveled him like the nation, too, I reckon,
much as he tried not to let on.

(To be continued.)


KG 'i' ~lafv Q -___
\ -

,: :r:-~~4-~~

~- ~-- ~ 7_




HAVE you heard of the tropical Isles of June,
The coral isles with their splendors of palms,
Where the sails hang loose in the languorous
And a dusky sun is the rising moon,
And the Southern Cross hangs over the sea
Like the jewels of Heaven ? Ah, me! ah, me!
Those gardens of gold in the opal main,
How they tempted the souls of the pilots of
But as John the old Sailor was wont to say,
When he told old tales in his comical way,
"'T is only the gold that does good that is
And only the rightful gold is gain.
Alas for the spoil of the pilots of Spain!
'T was fool's gold all."

Our John was a sailor, Sailor John,
A grizzly old sailor of Provincetown Bay,
And one queer old tale that he used to tell
By the bright fire-dogs to the boys now gone,

And the fisher folk-I remember well.
He would tell it to us in his odd old way,
After the revels on Christmas Day,
And at evening after the hours of play.
He would lock his hands and strike them
His knees, like this: chink, chink, chink,
It sounds like coins of gold, I know,
It sounds like coins of gold-but oh,
When you open your hands there is no-
thing there
But a goldless chasm of empty air!-
'Twas fool's gold all.

Our John the sailor, Sailor John,
He used to tell the tale this way,
In a very slow and deliberate way,
After the storms upon Provincetown Bay:
" 'T is about Sir Francis Drake of the Tay,
Who was born in a hut beside the Tavy,
A famous salt in Elizabeth's day,
The old sea-dog of the British Navy.



He guarded the coast of England well,
And haunted the seas, that old invader,
And gathered spoils from the Spanish war,
From the Isles of June to Cristobel,

I 'm growing old and my veins are cold,
But still my soul is athirst for gold.
Let me go once more to the Spanish Main,
To isles of the sun, and the golden rain,


And flouted King Philip off Trafalgar,
And scattered the ships of the Great Armada.
The first to sail the Pacific Sea,
And first to smoke tobacco, was he.

'And he said at last, Our coast is hilly,
And the northern seas are dark and chilly;

And rob the galleons old of Spain.'
He went and died 'mid the isles, ah me!
And his white ship scudded across the sea,
The Golden Hinde in the western wind,
And never again to his home came he -
But only his gold brought home again.
'T was fool's gold all.



" Old Plymouth stands by the windy sea,
As lovely a city as ever was seen.
And fair are the churches of Plymouth dean,*
And tall was the church that stood on the

" Now lonely old Susan lived on the moor,
Away from the tower of Plymouth Green,
Away from the roads of Plymouth dean.
A little old woman and poor was she,
Whose father had died on the stormy sea,
And she went to the church on each Lord's
Though her cottage was many a mile away-
To the sailors' church that looked o'er the bay,
The church of the storms and wild sea-
And she was hired to open the pews.
It made the church seem friendly and free,
To open the pews by charity.
The standing committee who seated the
And the grim old bell-ringer who lived in
the steeple,
And the beadle who kept evil-doers in awe,
And tickled the sleeper's nose with a straw,
And made lazy old women jump up in their
And wake all their neighbors with spasms
and screams-
They were worthy folks all, but not equal
in dues
To the wise little woman who opened the
And the good folks on Sunday each gave
her a penny,
And at weddings and Christmases twice as
And at Hallowe'en they gave her a guinea.

Now, one autumn morn, as she came to
the church,
The sailors, lingering round the porch,
Under the trees strange stories told
Of Sir Francis Drake and his shipload of gold;
And Susan stopped and listened awhile,
Then opened the pews in the long, broad aisle,
Not over-pleased at the wonderful news.

' 'T is only the gold that does good that is gain,
And I want not the gold of the pilots of
Said the wise little woman who opened the
"'T was in glimmering September-the hour,
near noon;
The prayers had been read; the clerk gave
out a tune,
And stood up and looked through the window,
and then
His eyes oped as though he 'd ne'er close
them again;
His mouth opened, too, and his lips rounded,
And left on his face just the round letter O.
Then he winked to the beadle, and.winked to
the squire,
And their eyes sought the window, and
turned from the choir.
The horizon was broken-there were sails in
the air;
And the cross of St. George on the breeze
floated fair.
Then arose from the quay a tumultuous
And the heads of the singers went bobbing
And no one looked upward, but every one
"The children grew restless, the tirewomen bold,
And the beadle cried out, Run, run! I 've
no doubt
'T is Sir Francis Drake and his shipload of
It will make us all rich, and we '11 have a new
Then the beadle ran out; and the clerk and
the squire
Said, 'We '11 now put new shingles upon
the old spire!'
Ran the sailors and women and tradespeo-
ple all;
And the deaconess, who could not her feelings
Said, Run, and it may be I 'lIget a new dress.'

* Dean, as here used, means "a small valley."



Till-oh, 't is a scandalous story to tell-
Till no one was left save quaint Rector Mews
And the wise little woman who opened the
pews -
Only she, and the figures of saints on the
Then the rector said, 'Susan, we might as
well run;
There 's a ship coming in from the isles of
the sun.


J'%I~~ Lsas



It bodes good to us all, this remarkable
I '11 run, while you shut up the pulpit and
'T is not every day I am called to behold
A ship from the Indies all loaded with gold!
'T will make us so rich we '11 all things
make new,
And have a new hassock in every pew!'

And he doffed his long robe in a hurry,
and he
Ran after the others all down to the quay.

Susan heard the men shouting on roof-top
and shore,
The boom of the cannon, the answering gun.
But she turned from the church to her
thatched-cottage door,
And was thankful her riches had made her
so poor.
Uneventful years passed,
and dull was the
And the wise little
woman still
opened the
And Sir Francis
again from
the port sail-
ed away,
5A4Far off from the
hills of the
Tavy and
And at last the
good people
looked out
on the main
For his ship to
appear in the
distant ce
And the parson
e --r still preached on the sins
of the Jews.
SFrom the Isles of June came
-not gold, spice, nor news;
E WALL. And the wise little woman
who opened the- pews
Used to say, You must search for gold on
your knees,
And look up to Heaven, not over the seas
For gold-laden ships from the bright Carib-
The riches that galleons bring over the deep.
'T is only the gold that does good that is


And the gold that we covet and hoard up
and keep,
That 's fool's gold all.'

"The St. Martin birds -came to the church-
tower tall,
And the purple-winged swallows that lived
in the wall;
The mavis sang sweet, and the green hedge-
rows burned,
And the wayside brooks into violets turned;
The lilies tossed in the scented air,
SThe peach-boughs reddened, and whitened
the pear.
Again on a Sunday came wonderful news,
And the little old woman who opened the pews
Again heard the shouting of joy on the quay,
The cannon and answering gun on the sea.
But half-mast hung the flag on that battle-
ship old.
Half-mast! Who had died 'mid the cabins
of gold ?
The grand ship rode into the harbor, and still
Grew the wharves and the towers and the
oak-shaded hill,
And the news came at last, 't was Sir
Francis had died
'Mid his cabins of gold at the last Christ-
'Sir Francis ?' they said. Let the old bell
be tolled.'
And the old bell began to toll-toll-toll,
Toll toll toll toll.
We hope there was gold in Sir Francis's soul.

And the people all turned from the long,
windy quay-
With tears turned away from the May-
pleasant sea,
And talked of the brave old sea-lord who
had died
'Neath the Southern Cross at Christmas-tide,
And whose form had been sunk in the
deep, moving sea
In the festival days of Nativity.

"When the folks sought the church to talk
of the news,
Came the wise little woman who opened
the pews,
And she said to the parson,' I 'm sorry indeed;
'T is not that kind of gold that our spirits
most need,
But the gold of the Word, the heart and
the deed.
The Sea Knight has only that true gold
That his honor refused, or his heart gave
Let us look no more to the stores of the seas,
To the isles of the sun or the bright
Let us envy no more the rich galleons of Spain,
'T is only the gold that does good that is gain.
The wealth that avarice seeks to find
Is like the gold of the Golden Hinde;
Chink, chink, chink, chink; who it commands
Will stand at last with empty hands--
'T is fool's gold all!'"






'\ /



Autl/r of "Lady Jane."

[Begun in the May number.]
A FEW days after the exhibition on the front
steps, Madam Ainsworth was sitting in the
drawing-room talking very earnestly with her
old friend, and her voice was raised somewhat
above its usual well-bred level.
"If they had consulted me, it never would
have happened," she said decidedly. They
were too hasty, and now they regret it."
Naturally they would like their own son to
be the elder," the friend placidly answered.
"Certainly they would; but it 's not only
that. They are tired of the boy; he has n't turned
out as they expected. As he grows older, very
common traits develop in his character; but
what else can you expect from a child brought
up by an old colored woman? Lately he has
had a little' negro thief here, to whom he is de-
voted. We have had an actual struggle to keep
the little fellow away from the premises; and even
now, I dare say, Philip meets him outside."
How fortunate the little heiress is n't here
this winter! remarked the friend.
Oh, if Lucille had n't gone abroad with her
mother, I should have insisted on his being sent
away. The poor child suffered enough through
him last winter," said Madam Ainsworth, an-
grily; "and now Edward and Laura are as
miserable as they can be, and all on account of
that troublesome boy. They don't love him
now, as they thought they did. I '11 give them
the credit of thinking they were fond of him;
but they never really loved the boy, and now
that they have one of their own, they know it."
"It's a very unfortunate situation, is it not?"
said the friend. They can't very well get rid
of him, can they? "
VOL. XXI.- 34. 26

"No, that 's just it; they can't. I should not
be sorry if he should take it into his head to
run off with some of his strange companions
where they could never hear from him again."
Dear me, and to think of all they have
done for him! It would be a terrible change
for the boy after his life of luxury," said the
friend, smoothly.
Oh, I think he would prefer a gipsy life.
There 's no doubt in my mind of his being the
child of very common parents; and to think
that Edward should adopt him without know-
It 's going to be very bad for their own son
to have such a boy for an elder brother-for
you know children are so imitative."
"Yes, it 's dreadful any way you look at it,"
returned Madam Ainsworth, with a heavy sigh.
And just now, when I could be so happy with
my grandson, to have it all spoiled by that little
waif, that little intruder into my family! And as
far as I can see, there 's no way to get rid of
When Madam Ainsworth and her friend left
the drawing-room, after some more confidential
chatter, there was a slight movement behind
the curtain that draped the alcove of the win-
dow, and Philip slipped out silently and timidly.
He was very pale, and his eyes had a wild,
frightened look. He had been sitting there
watching the people in the street when the eld
ladies entered, and he had unwillingly heard
every word of their conversation.
Later in the day, when Madam Ainsworth
was returning from a visit of charity, as her
carriage crossed Seventh Avenue she saw
Philip and Lilybel standing on a corner talk-
ing together very earnestly. "It 's just as I
thought," she said to herself; "he sees that
little ragamuffin outside. What in the world


can he wish to say to him? I really dread the
result of having that boy under our roof!"
When Philip entered the drawing-room just
before dinner, they all noticed how excited he
appeared, and how carelessly he was dressed.
"That boy is not fit to come into the draw-
ing-room," said Madam Ainsworth in a low,
vexed voice to her daughter-in-law. "He is so
untidy, and utterly indifferent to his dress!"
I 'm very sorry," returned Mrs. Ainsworth,
flushing a little. "Perhaps it 's my fault. I 'm
afraid I have neglected him lately; he certainly
has changed in appearance."
Philip noticed Madam Ainsworth's look of
disgust, and heard her unkind words; for his
senses were very acute, and his heart very sore.
He was looking at a book, and he bent his
head lower over it to hide the tears that sprang
to his eyes. When dinner was announced, he
walked out silently behind the others, and took
his accustomed place without a word.
Bassett was distressed because the boy ate
nothing; and when the dessert came out, he slip-
ped into a drawer a generous plate of maca-
roons and bonbons, saying to himself, "The
little chap shall 'ave these to-night. 'E 's hill
and un'appy. I 'm going to cheer 'im hup with
While Bassett was putting away the silver,
Philip crept softly into the pantry, and stood
near the old man, watching him wistfully. He
wanted to say something, but his heart was too
full. When Bassett took out the bonbons and
gave them to him, he could not control himself;
his lips quivered pitifully, and large tears rolled'
over his face.
"Why why, Master Philip, my little man,
what 's the matter ? What 's happenedd ? cried
Bassett, astonished at such signs of trouble in
his usually merry little friend.
"Oh, nothing, Mr. Butler; but but you 're
so good to me, and it makes me cry now
when--when any one is good to me."
"Yes, I see, my poor little lad. You hain't
as rugged as you used to be; I see you 're
losing your appetite, an' that won't do. You
must n't fret. It 's along of that new boy;
they 're hall so taken hup with 'im that they
don't think of no one else."
Oh, I don't mind that, Mr. Butler. Well,"

with a heavy sigh and a fresh burst of tears,
"I 'm I 'm going to my room now. Good
night, Mr. Butler, good night." Still he lin-
gered with his hand on the door. Suddenly he
turned to Bassett, and said, almost entreatingly,
" I wish I wish you 'd shake hands with me,
Mr. Butler."
"Why, bless your 'eart, my dear little lad,
hof course I will!" And Bassett gave him
such a hearty clasp that Philip smiled through
his tears.
"And- and you won't you won't forget
me, will you? "
"Forget you? Why, 'ow you do talk! 'Ow
am I a-going to forget you when I see you
every day?"
"But when I 'm not here-when-when
I go away, you '11 stand up for me? You '11
say I was n't a bad boy, won't you ?"
That I will, Master Philip. I '11 stand hup
for you as long as I 've a leg to stand hon."
"Oh, thank you! Good night; and thank
you for the candy and cake." And with a look
eloquent of mingled sorrow and affection, Philip
hurried out.
When he had gone, Bassett stood for some
time looking thoughtfully at the forks in his
hand; then he muttered to himself, Hit's too
bad, the way they slight that pretty, kind-
'earted little chap. An' what 's 'e got in 'is
'ead to-night? 'E 's that blue 'e almost
made me cry myself. I must try and cheer 'im
hup to-morrow."
When Philip reached his room, he looked
around him nervously; then he opened the
door cautiously, and listened. They were all
below in the drawing-room. There were visitors.
Once in a while he heard the sound of laughter
and conversation. They were all very much
engaged; they were not thinking of him. After
standing silent a moment in deep thought, he
went to a drawer,.and from the very bottom of
it he drew out the red-and-yellow silk kerchief
belonging to the children." This, with a
thick woolen one which he wore in cold
weather to protect his throat, he wrapped care-
fully around the cage, and tied securely. Then
he took a small bag which Mrs. Ainsworth had
given him for his school-books, and lifting from
the upper shelf of his wardrobe a paper box, he




removed from it the crumpled funeral wreath,
with the motto "A ma mere," enveloped in the
piece of crape Dea's last gift; these he care-
fully folded in paper and deposited in the
bottom of the bag. On his table lay the little
Bible and prayer-book-Toinette's gifts; these
he also placed with the wreath. Then he
opened his small safe, and taking out his

;i, '" ,.,' ,

'" J "*!.

Ii'; I.

-f( --



savings, which he had hoarded with great self-
denial, he counted them over and over; there
was not so much as he thought he had, but he
had drawn heavily on them to supply Lilybel's
exorbitant demands. However, he put what
there was in his pocket-book, and that, with
Bassett's paper of bonbons, he dropped into
the bag with his other treasures. From his
wardrobe he selected his oldest
suit, his oldest shoes and cap, and
when he had put them on, he hesi-
tated a moment over the fur coat.
It was so warm -but no; it had
cost a great deal: he would not
take it. He hung it up, and in-
SI stead of it he selected a plain little
ulster. It was thick and warm, but
Snot so warm as the rejected fur coat.
When he was dressed, he open-
91 ed the door and listened. There
was no one on the back landing,
and he knew he could slip out that
way without being seen. So he
took the "children" in one hand
and the bag in the other,-they
were his own little belongings, and
S they were all he had,- and silently
and tremblingly he crept, like a lit-
tle culprit, down the back stairs and
out into the street.
It was early in March, and a
wretched, drizzling night, half rain
and half snow. Philip shivered
and coughed as he stepped upon
the sidewalk. For a moment he
hesitated, then with a last sorrow-
ful look at the luxurious home he
was leaving, he went out in the cold
and darkness, with only Pere Josef's
little "children for company.

THE next morning after Philip's
departure, Madam Ainsworth and
her daughter-in-law were sitting at
the breakfast-table alone. Neither
of the ladies ate much, and both
seemed preoccupied and troubled.



When the meal was nearly over, Mrs. Ains-
worth looked up suddenly and said, as if it had
just occurred to her, "Why, where is Philip
this morning ? He is always so punctual, I 'm
afraid he is ill! "
If you please, Madam," remarked Bassett,
with a little tremor in his voice, "I will go to
'is room and hinquire."
"Yes, go," replied Madam Ainsworth, petu-
lantly; and tell him to come down immedi-
ately-that we have nearly finished breakfast.
I hope the boy is n't going to be dilatory. It
will be very trying if he is."
He never has been," said Mrs. Ainsworth,
excusingly; he is always down before we are.
I notice he coughs lately. I 'm afraid he is not
well; I really must consult the doctor. I con-
fess I am worried about him."
Oh, he has a little cold, I suppose," said
Madam Ainsworth, indifferently; but it's not
his health I should worry about."
"Why, what has he done now ?." asked Mrs.
Ainsworth, surprised. "I hope there is no new
trouble"; but before her mother-in-law could
reply, Bassett entered hurriedly and uncere-
"The room 's hempty!" he exclaimed; "and
Master Philip 's gone! "
The old man was pale and trembled visibly.
His strange manner alarmed Mrs. Ainsworth.
"Gone!" she cried, starting up excitedly.
"What do you mean? Gone where?"
Oh, I don't know where 'e 's gone, poor
little lad," replied Bassett, in a broken voice.
"Hall I know is that 'is room is hempty, an'
that 'e did n't sleep hin 'is bed; 'e must 'ave
left last night."
What! Has he been gone all night ? Out
alone in the dark and cold! Oh, -what can
have happened to him ?" gasped Mrs. Ains-
worth, pale and trembling, He must have met
with some dreadful accident to keep him away
all night!"
Hit was not han accident, Madam," said
the butler, gravely. "Hin my opinion, Mas-
ter Philip 'as gone with the intention of stay-
ing, because 'e 'as taken 'is cage of little mice
with 'im."
"Run away! Just what I expected he would
do!'" exclaimed Madam Ainsworth. She was

so excited that she quite forgot Bassett was in
the room.
"Please don't condemn him until you know,"
pleaded Mrs. Ainsworth. "I can't think he
has gone of his own will, he loved us so, and
was so-so grateful and happy."
"I beg your pardon, Madam," interposed
Bassett, decidedly. Hif I may be allowed to
say hit, Master Philip 'as n't been 'appy for
some time. I don't know what was hin 'is little
mind; but, now I think of hit, I might 'ave
known that something was going to happenn by
the way 'e came to me in the pantry last night,
an' asked me to stand hup for 'im when 'e
was gone."
Oh, you knew it, did you?" interrupted
Madam Ainsworth, severely. "And you never
told us! Really, Bassett, you astonish me!"
No; I did n't know nothing, Madam," re-
turned Bassett, firmly. I only thought the
pretty little lad was hill, an' down hin spirits,
an' I tried to cheer 'im hup; then, when 'e said
good night, 'e-'e was a-crying."
"Did he say anything, Bassett? Did he tell
you where he was going?" asked Mrs. Ains-
worth, anxiously.
"Not a word, Madam. 'E did n't even say
that 'e was going; 'e only 'inted at something."
Oh, I am to blame! It is my fault!" cried
Mrs. Ainsworth, regretfully. Since I have had
Baby to care for, I have. neglected the poor
boy. I did n't mean to, but I have. I have
driven him away! What shall I do? How
shall I find him? and Mrs. Ainsworth looked
appealingly at her mother-in-law.
"My dear Laura, don't be foolish. It is
absurd to make a fuss about that boy," said
Madam Ainsworth, coldly. "The ungrateful
little creature has grown tired of your kindness,
and he has gone back to his former condition.
In plain words, he has run away. I saw him
again with that little negro only yesterday. They
were plotting then; and, if you remember, he
seemed guilty last night-he was ashamed to
look one in the face."
I remember that he appeared excited and
troubled, but I should not say that that was an
indication of guilt. I can't understand it; I
can't think he would go voluntarily, and with-
out a word to me. I wish Edward were here.



I don't know what to do; I don't know what
steps to take!" cried Mrs. Ainsworth, despair-
"Bassett, did you notice whether he had
taken his clothing ? asked Madam Ainsworth.
I should say, Madam, that 'e 'ad only
took what 'e 'ad hon. I looked hin 'is ward-
robe; hit was full, an' 'is little fur coat was
"Oh, well, then you can depend on his com-
ing back. He has gone off on some expedition
with those friends of his. When he is tired
and hungry he will return."
But we ought to do something now," urged
Mrs. Ainsworth. I can't let the matter rest
and wait for him to come back."
"I should advise you to do so," returned
Madam Ainsworth, indifferently. "I suspect
that the bootblack and the little negro have
persuaded the boy to go off and exhibit those
horrid little animals. One can't tell what ab-
surd ideas they have put in his head. In any
case, I should advise you to wait at least for a
few days, and avoid all talk and excitement.
It would be ridiculous to make a great fuss,
and then have him come back, hungry and
dirty, just as the little negro did. No doubt it
is one of his nice little tricks to surprise and
alarm us."
"I wish I could think so," said Mrs. Ains-
worth, sadly. I wish he would come back
this moment, well and unharmed."
"And I wish he would stay away," thought
Madam Ainsworth, as she left the breakfast-
room. "I think we should be well rid of
Bassett went about with a very sorrowful face.
Thinking of Philip's strange manner the pre-
ceding evening, he felt that the boy had said
good-by instead of good night. Pretty little
lad, 'e was that un'appy that 'e could n't bear
hit hany longer," thought Bassett, as he worked
and pondered; so 'e just took them little hani-
mals and went hoff all alone last night. Dear
me, what 's to become hof a delicate little chap
like that!"
Several days passed. Philip did not return,
and nothing was heard of him. The boot-
black was questioned concerning Lilybel, but
he could give no information; the little negro

had vanished too. Evidently he and Philip had
gone together.
When Mrs. Ainsworth examined the boy's
room, she was fully convinced that he did not
intend to return. She missed the funeral
wreath, the Bible and prayer-book, and she
knew that he had gone forever and taken his
treasures with him. In spite of Madam Ains-
worth's advice, she was not satisfied to let the
matter rest. After a few days had passed, and
there was no news of the missing boy, she wrote
to her husband for advice, and at the same
time employed a detective to try to find Philip.
She was conscience-stricken and dismayed
when she fully realized how she had neglected
the child and left him to himself. "It is my
fault," she would think regretfully. He had a
beautiful nature. He was so affectionate, so gen-
erous, I could have made anything of him. He
would have been good and happy if I had not
seemed to forget him -if I had not neglected
my duty. If he has really gone away, I alone
am to blame."



WHEN Pere Josef, after long and weary jour-
neyings through the mountainous regions of
New Mexico, returned at last to the little mis-
sion of San Miguel, he found a letter, written
months before, from his friend Pere Martin of
St. Mary's, telling him of the death of Toinette,
and of the adoption of Philip by the Northern
artist and his wife; whereupon P&re Josef
wrote immediately to Pare Martin, asking that
a certain package of papers left in his care be
forwarded as soon as possible to the mission
of San Miguel. But long before the papers
reached him, Pere Josef was off on another
journey, longer and. more arduous than the
preceding; and it was well on in the second
winter of his mission when he returned to San
Miguel and found the package awaiting him.
One night, alone in his little cell, weary, dis-
heartened, and homesick, Pere Josef broke the
seal of a large brown envelop addressed to him
in a feeble, almost illegible scrawl. Within it
were several papers and quite a number of let-
ters. The first one he opened and glanced at



bore the signature of Toinette, and read as

DEAR PARE JOSEF: The doctor says I have heart-
disease and may die suddenly; that is why I write this
letter to you, and why I give you these papers to keep,
and to open only after I am at rest. I want to have
everything plain and clear for my boy when I am gone,
and wheh you read this letter you will understand all
about it.
You may think that I ought to have told you all this
long ago, but I never could. I never could decide to be
parted from my boy, and I knew you would tell me that
it was my duty to give him up.
I must begin at the beginning, and try to tell you all
as plainly as I can. I was brought up by the Detrava
family with great care and kindness. I was taught to
speak French and English; to read, write, and em-
broider; and also to plant and cultivate flowers. When
my young mistress, Miss Estelle, was born, I was thirty.
They put the babe in my arms; she was mine from that
hour, and I belonged to her. She grew up pretty and
good. I watched over her, and loved her better than
anything on earth. When the war came and she lost
both father and mother, she was more mine than ever.
It was hard to live then; every one was for himself, and
no one remembered the desolate orphan. I put my arms
around her and held her up when she was ready to fall.
She was life and everything to me.
There was an encampment of Union soldiers near our
plantation. They were our enemies, but they did not
molest us. The young captain in charge was very good
to us. He pitied my young mistress, and did all he
could to protect us and make us comfortable; and he
was so gentle and kind that we could not help liking
him and trusting him. Well, one night she and the
young captain were privately married by a French
priest. He had come to our parish to take the place
of our cur6, who had gone as chaplain in a Confederate
regiment. Pire Josef, you were the priest who married

Here Pere Josef looked up from the letter,
and sat for some time in deep thought. Yes,"
he said at last, I remember it. It was while
I was in the parish of St. John the Baptist. It
was one night in the little vestry. The poor young
things came to me, and I could n't refuse.
Those were stirring times, and strange things
happened. Yes, I remember,-a pale, lovely
girl and a young Union officer. I thought it
very strange, but I married them. Yes, this is
the certificate I gave them"; and he unfolded a
paper and saw his own signature. Then he
went on reading Toinette's 'letter:

Now I have recalled that to you, you will remember
what followed. A year after, you baptized their child, a

beautiful boy; and when the child was scarce two months
old, the young father was killed in a skirmish, and my
mistress, the child and its nurse fled from the country to
the city house, which, as you may remember, was burnt
that very night. All three were supposed to have per-
ished in the flames. It is true the young mother lost
her life, but the child and nurse did not. I am the
nurse, and Philip is the child. When the fire broke out
the babe was asleep in my arms. I carried him to a
place of safety, and then went back to try to save my
dear mistress; but I was too late. I could not find her.
When I heard that the nurse and child were supposed
to be buried in the ruins, I took the baby without any


.-.-..----- ,'


one noticing me, and fled to a friend in another part of
the city. She gave me shelter, and kept my secret until
she died. After her death I went back to the Detrava
place. I wanted the boy to grow up on his own property.
He did not know that it was his, but I knew that it would
some day belong to him.
Do you remember, when I first brought Philip to you,
how closely and severely you questioned me about his



parentage ? You did not remember me, and you did not
dream that the boy was the child of Estelle Detrava and
the young Union officer.
You will wonder why I concealed the truth and kept
my secret so long. I will tell you. I loved the child;
he was the only one left of his family, and it seemed as
though he belonged to me, and that it would kill me to
lose him; but the strongest reason of all was-I had
solemnly promised my young mistress that if she should
be taken away, I would never part with the child. For
a reason very natural then, she was set against his being
brought up in the North. She knew that her husband
had never made his marriage known to his family, be-
cause of the bitter feeling between the two parts of the
country. She was proud and sensitive about it, and she
made me promise over and over that if she and her young
husband died, I would keep the boy, at least until he was
old enough to choose for himself. I was afraid if I gave
him up that he would be sent north to his father's family,
and that I should be parted from him. They knew
nothing about him, and perhaps they would not care for
him, and he was my very life. No, I could n't give him
up then, but I thought I could when he got older. That
time- the time to give him up- has never come, and I
think and hope it never will until I am where I cannot
miss him, or fret to lose him.
But I must finish this, because writing tires me and is
slow work. I 've been days and nights over this con-
fession, trying to make it all clear and plain. After the
excitement about the fire was over, I went secretly back
to the deserted plantation-house and got all of my young
mistress's papers, which fortunately she left behind her
in her hurried flight, or they would have been lost with
her. I knew they would be needed some day. They
are all in this package-the certificates which you gave,

and a number of letters from the young officer to my
mistress; and you will see that there is a letter ad-
dressed to the young man's mother, which has never
been opened. He gave it to my mistress, so that if any-
thing happened to him she could send it to his mother.
I suppose that in it he confesses his marriage and asks
them to take care of his wife and child. But she, blessed
saint, will never need their care. She went to heaven, just
as her young husband had perished, only a few days be-
fore her; and now there is none left but the boy, who,
when I am gone, must be given up to his father's family.
It may be wrong to keep him from them now, but he is
only a little fellow and he loves me dearly. I have done
my best for him: I have taught him to be good. No one
can say a word against Toinette's Philip; and oh, Phre
Josef, I just feel that when you read this he will be alone!
I shall be gone--the "mammy" he has always loved
and obeyed. Will you do your best for the child, love
him, comfort him- he will be so unhappy away from me ?
Of course these letters and papers must be sent to his
grandmother. I wonder if she will love him as I have!
Oh, Phre Josef, be good to him! I leave him in your
care; and if I have done wrong by keeping him, forgive
me, and commend me to the mercy of God.

When P&re Josef finished Toinette's letter,
he furtively wiped a tear from his thin cheek;
then, after looking over the papers carefully, he
inclosed all, with a few explanatory lines from
himself, in a strong package which he addressed
to Madam Ainsworth, Madison Avenue,
New York.

(To be continued.)


IT was a bitter cold night in November,
1865. The Howard family, after the early sup-
per, were gathered around the fire, laughing
and chatting for an hour before the children,
two little girls, Louise and Jean, went to bed.
Mr. Howard, in the big Boston rocker, was
swaying gently back and forth; there was a
strained, anxious look on his pleasant face, and
he answered the children's many questions in
an absent-minded way which was startling.
Now, Papa," said Louise, "that 's three
times you have said 'Yes, dear,' when you
should have said 'No.' What is the matter -
are you thinking ? "
"Papa is thinking very hard, deary," said
the mother; he has a hard problem to solve."
Their father looked at the two eager faces
for a moment, and then said, Come here,
chicks. I will tell you all about it."
The children sprang to him, and clasping
them closely in his arms, he began. "Let
me see how wise and sensible you can be.
You are both well-grown girls now; do you
think you could make a sacrifice for our sakes
Mama's and mine?"
"Oh, yes, yes! of course we could," cho-
rused both children. "What is it?"
"Could you two little girls give up your
Christmas tree this year ? "

The curly heads drooped softly to
the father's shoulder. He went on:
"It is just this way. You see I am in the
employment of the Government-a servant of
Uncle Sam. The war has been cruel and long;
all the money has been used for the poor
soldiers; so Uncle Sam has n't paid me for
some months, nor, I heard at the office to-day,
will he be able to do so for some time to come.
Almost all my money is used up. I dare not
spend a penny for anything but food and clothes
for us all; a Christmas tree and presents are
out of the question. I want you both to help
us bear this; for, believe me, my little lassies,
't is harder for us than it will be for you."
Oh, Papa," wailed Jean, we 're too little
to bear such dreadful things. Why, I 'most
think I could n't live without a Christmas tree !
Why, we always have a tree /"
The father sighed as he kissed the tear-wet
face of his darling. "What has my big girl to
say ?" he asked, looking at Louise. The brown
curls were tossed back from the flushed face.
"Papa, don't mind Jeanie, she 's too little to
bear things; but I 'm a big girl. Only "-here
a sob was choked down-" you see we're so
used to it, you know."
"We will not talk about it any more to-
night, for it is time to go to bed," said Mama.
As the children were going slowly up the
stairs, Louise heard her father say, "If the
Honorable Hugh McCulloch could know how
I suffer for my children's sake to-night, he
would make an effort in my behalf."


Everything went wrong at school the next You have helped me, Miss Annie. I think I
day. The pretty young teacher looked at can get it written all right. I-excuse me, but
Louise in amazement, for the child's thoughts I can't tell you about it, because it's something
seemed to be everywhere but on her lessons. about my father's business."
After school
hours, the busy
teacher looked .T .)
up from her I a-a- .
weekly reports
to find Louise ..
gazing at her
Well, dear,
what is it? s"
"Why, Miss dean
Annie, I did not
say anything."
"No, dear,
not with words,
but you know -
that the eyes
talk. What is
the trouble? "
I want to
ask some ques-
tions. I know
the ownerof the
United States
is Uncle Sam,
but what's his
last name? and
who is the Hon-
orable Hugh
McCulloch ? .
and do you '. ,
know where -; .
they live? "
"You funny
child !"laughed
Miss Graham.
" I have never
Sam's family-
name, but Mr. McCulloch is an intimate friend Miss Graham smiled again at the little one's
of his-in fact, carries his purse and pays all dignity, but she drew the excited child to her
his bills for him ; and he lives in Washington." loving arms, and said, "That 's quite right, my
Oh! Well, I am going to write to him-a dear. Go to your desk and write yourletter; I
big letter." will give you a stamp for it."
Indeed? What about, dear ? Can I help Late that afternoon the important letter was
you in any way ? taken to the post-office. Don't you think the
VOL. XXI.-35.


great man must have been amused when his
secretary handed him the letter, addressed in
the funny, childish writing?
This was how it looked:


I think the correspondence which was car-
ried on by the distinguished man and the little
girl will tell you best how it all ended.

Nov. 30, 1865.
DEAR MR. MCKULLOCH: Won't you plese excuse
me for Writing to you. I am in such trouble and want
you to help me please my papa says we can't have a
chrismus tree this year, now is n't that too offley bad ? He
says uncle sam owes him some money and he can't get it.
My papa is in the revenue business, the revenue bus-
ness has stamps in it his name is mr henry Howard, 52
Sprague St Newark N. J. won't you plese ask him to pay
him else we can't have a tree, my teacher says you pay
all the bills for him. wont you ask Uncle Sam to let you
pay my papa? my little sister Jeanie crys all the time,
she wouldent care mutch if she was ded, she feels so bad
shes so littel not to have a tree. have you got any little
girls. May be the war would n't let you get paid too. I
hope your little children won't have to go with out any
tree. Won't you plese beg uncle sam to pay up his bill
to my papa plese exkuse bad spelling and Writing my
mamma always helps, but she don't know about this ne-
ther does my papa. Truly your littel friend,
P. S. Arent you glad the war is over.

Dec. 4, 1865.
My DEAR LITTLE FRIEND: I was very much pleased
to receive your letter. I am glad you wrote to me in
your trouble, for I can and will help you.
The check for the amount the Revenue Service owes
your father will be forwarded to him, without fail, by the
22d of the month-so, dear child, tell him to proceed
with his arrangements for the tree. It will be all right.
I have a dear little girl like you. Her name is Louise
too. She was pleased with your letter, and wishes she
could have a picture of you and little Jeanie. Can you not
send her one?
Yes, my little girl will have a tree too, so I am sure of
the happiness of three children, at least. Wishing you
and Jeanie a Merry Christmas, I am yours sincerely,
HUGH McCULLOCH, Secretary of the Treasury.
P. S. Yes, I am very glad the war is over.

Dec. 28, 1865.
DEAR MR. McCULLOCH: My papa was so sur-
prised when i got the big letter all seeling wax. he
laughed and kissed me hard and said what a child but
he was glad and so was mamma. I was so glad and so
was Jeanie we both cryed, we thought mamma did too -
she says she dident. oh what a beautiful littel tree we
had, not so Big or so fine as other years, but we liked it
better, ever so much better than others because we dident
expect it.
You are such a kind Gentleman, do you see those
round spots on this letter, they are kisses from Jean and
me to you, this is our picture taken with the tree, do you
like it, do you see that littel man hanging right in front,-
thats george Washington, its a pen-wiper a littel boy in
my fathers sunday school class made it for his chrismus
gift those are my skates hanging on the tabel and that's
jeanies doll, is n't she nice. Jeanie has light hair and blue
eyes I have brown hair and gray eyes anser soon.
Your loving friend, LOUISE HOWARD.
P. S. I am glad you are pleased about the war being
over,--but do you know there a dredful lot of sick sol-
jers in our hospittel yet-I go and sing to them every
saturday afternoon.
Jan. 15, 1866.
My DEAR LITTLE LOUISE: I was more than pleased,
I was delighted, with your picture. I had it on my li-
brary table on New Year's day, and it created great in-
terest, and also admiration. The tree is beautiful, but to
me your happy little faces are more so. ,My little Louise
clapped her hands with joy when she saw it. I enclose
to you a picture of her.
I knew that was George Washington before you told
me. It is a striking likeness. I think that is a very nice
tree for hard times.
I will close with many kind wishes for the new year-
indeed, for your whole future.
Sincerely your friend,

That was the end no, not quite. I think if
the great secretary could have looked into the
children's room at bedtime, and seen the two
little white figures kneeling at their mother's
knee, his heart would have glowed within him;
for the ending of their prayer, said in unison,
was always this:
"God bless Papa and Mama and Mr. Hugh
McCulloch, and make Louise and Jean good
girls. Amen."




IN the great Dream City that stood last sum-
mer by the blue waters of Lake Michigan there
were as many as 50,000 real inhabitants.
To the visitor they seemed to be only a part
of the scene: but to an inhabitant the visitors
were the fleeting show, and he came to know
and to like or dislike his neighbors as their
manners or his fancy gave him cause.
Near the part of the city where I lived was a
district inhabited by the little people from Java.
Their streets were so clean, their houses so
pretty, and they looked out on the stranger with
such cheerful, timid smiles, that they soon won
the hearts of their neighbors, and their coffee-
house came to be a favorite gathering-place.
When I first visited their streets, I inquired
of a bright little woman who sat before a tiny
loom on the portico of her house whether she
spoke English. She replied quickly:

"Na, na; no spik Inglis-all spik Chicago
nax week "; and then the little woman went on
weaving a sarong, meanwhile singing softly to
A sarong is a piece of batik, or cotton cloth,
about three feet wide by six feet long. It is
used by the Javanese men and women as a
kind of skirt, being folded about the hips and
tucked in under a belt.
But weaving a batik is only a small part of
the work of making a sarong. Under another
wide portico a patient, skilful woman sat draw-
ing the most beautiful designs on the white
First she made a border exactly like a back-
gammon board at each end of the cloth; then
an inner strip of fantastic pictures of birds fly-
ing and spreading their wings; and then a
maze of lines that seemed to get all tangled up,

and draws a few lines
before the wax cools.
i When the design is
complete the cloth is
dipped in dyes, and
when dry is washed in
hot water. Then all
the wax lines come off,
leaving a white figure
w-, wherever they were
S..u traced, for the dye can-
Sn il not get through the
The most fantastic
Sarongs are made for
% O the dancing-girls of the
Royal Theater of the
Sultan of Solo. For
SI them, too, the young
S' .. Javanese girls embroi-
"__" der velvet bodices with
gorgeous figures in
Si colored silks.
A Javanese prince
brought over a com-
SI plete company-actors,
.\, dancers, and orchestra
-from the Sultan's
Theater to help amuse
the visitors to his street
in the City of Visions.
GATEWAY AND GUARD. He had a beautiful
yet all came out in a regular figure in the end, little theater built, all of bamboo and of woven
just as the riders do at the circus when they all matting and close-set thatch; and in this at-
canter out dressed as seventeenth-century cava-
The pencil with which this design was drawn -
should not, perhaps, be called a pencil at all- -i
it is very different from the ones ST. NICHOLAS'S
artists use; it is a tiny bowl,
about as big as an acorn, with
a little curved spout, and is
fastened on the end of a short
bamboo handle. The bowl is
filled with hot wax, which the -: -
woman keeps melting in a
copper vessel over a charcoal
fire. Every moment or two
she dips the bowl in the vessel
of wax, then blows in the spout, JAVANESE WOMAN AT WORK ON A SARONG.


tractive building the clever and well-trained
troupe of performers gave entertainments every
day-parts of a long, native drama that if
given at one performance would take as much
time to play
clear through
as is required
for a game of
I made the
$ of Prince
Adnin Soekmadilaga
soon after we became
neighbors, and used
to go and visit him
a sometimes at the
S' The company all
held their royal stage
manager in great re-
verence, and when-
A CLOWN IN A COMIC MASK. ever the little danc-

ing-girls passed him, they crouched low on the
floor, and waddled by him in Oriental style.
The prince used to laugh good-naturedly
about this absurd waddle. He told me that
every one who went before the Sultan of Solo
had to waddle in the same way for a hundred
yards, and that some of the very fat men would


grow so tired before they got to the sultan, that
they would have to lie down and rest, and then
try it over again.
Whenever a Javanese came into the green-
room with a message or letter, he slipped off his
sandals and dropped down on his knees on the
mat before the prince; and once, when I had
made a sketch of a pretty dancing-girl, the
whole company knelt down in a circle around

-. --

the prince while he held it up for them to see.
It was like the scene in "Patience" where the
forty love-sick maidens kneel around Bunthorne.
At the back of the stage in the theater stands
a heavy wooden frame curiously carved, and
painted blue and gold. It holds up two huge
gongs toned to a sound as deep and mellow as
far-distant thunder.
These gongs form the deep bass of the orches-
tra. An old wrinkled Javanese squats between
them, with eyes closed, and apparently fast
asleep; but just at the right time his arm swings
and strikes a deep note that vibrates all through
the house. The other instruments are smaller
gongs in wooden frames, a rude drum or two,
a bamboo flute, and a fiddle with one string.
Nearly everything the Javanese use is made
either of bamboo poles or palm-leaves-the
walls and floors of their houses are of split


bamboo woven into a basketwork, the frames
are of bamboo poles, and the roofs of palm-
leaf thatch.
The children's toys, wagons, drums, and tops,
and the rude musical instruments used by the
common people, are all of bamboo.
When the iron electric-light poles were put
up on their streets, the Javanese looked on them

and we all walked down a great street to
where an old and wily Turk sold a kind of
Oriental pancake that he insisted was always
"hot! hot! hot!" although they were very
often cold.
The little Javanese men and women were
very fond of the old Turk's cakes; and there
we sat down, a Lapland family on our right, on


with disgust. But the very next day not one of
the poles was to be seen. The bright little peo-
ple had spent the whole night thatching them
from top to bottom with the black fibrous
sheath of the palm-leaf, and capped them off
with little conical thatch hoods.
On the night when I last saw my little neigh-
bors, before the great Dream City vanished,
there was a cold wind blowing in from the lake.
It was uncomfortable on the wide porticos,

our left a pair of giant Samoans, while the old
Turk tossed hot pancakes from the fire to his
motley guests.
The Great Dipper was swinging high above
the North Star when we dispersed, and we saw
one another no more from that time; for the
days of the most beautiful and short-lived city
in the world were ended, and now our neigh-
bors have vanished to the lands of the midnight
sun and the waters under the Southern Cross.





THE time has gone
by when itwas necessary
to prove that a stamp-
collection is a good
thing, and has a value
of its own. The fact
that there are thou-
SARDINIA, A. D. 18ig. sands of men and wo-
men, and hundreds of
thousands of boys and girls, who find the
greatest pleasure in gathering and preserving
these interesting bits of paper, in itself seems
to show that a stamp-collection has a value.
Just what that value is, however, is the ques-
tion. The answer will give the reason for the
great interest in collecting on the part of old
and young, and the steady increase in the num-
ber of collectors.
It is not with the money value of stamps that
we are particularly concerned. That they have
this is conclusively shown by
the prices obtained for rare
stamps at the sales held every
season. For instance, a single
Confederate local" stamp of
Livingston,Alabama, brought
more than seven hundred dol-
lars at auction last winter.
STAMP, LIVINGSTON, One of the best things
ALABAMA. about stamps, however, is
that so many of them, having great value for
other reasons and in other ways, can be obtained
at small cost. Fine collections of coins or ex-
pensive bric-a-brac can be made by the wealthy
only. Many very fine stamp-collections are the
property of boys or girls, or of older people, in
moderate circumstances. This small cost, com-
bined with the great value of stamps as a means
of giving wholesome and profitable pleasure,
accounts for the great and growing popularity
of stamp-collecting in this country and Europe.
The craving for knowledge is one of our
strongest and certainly most worthy desires.

Stamp-collecting ministers directly to this; its
educational value is great already, and is con-
stantly increasing.
The knowledge of modern historical events in
a concise and definite form is one of the posses-
sions of the thoughtful stamp-collector. We have,
in Spanish history, the futile insurrection of
DonCarlos, 873-75,

issue of stamps which
he caused during
those years, and the
face of the pretender
in our albums keeps
the fact definitely in SPAIN. CARLIST STAPS.
our minds. The change from King Alfonso
XII. to the Regency and the baby king Alfonso
XIII., born in 1886, no boy collector will for-
get. Nor will the girls fail to remember that in
1891, soon after the death of the old king, Wil-
liam III., a charm-
ing girlish face made
its appearance on
the stamps of the
i NM I These are but two
ALFONSO XII. AND ALFONSO XIII. instances showing
how recent historical events are recorded by
There is scarcely a stamp-issuing country
which does not exhibit on its stamps the
changes of government since it began their
issue. Fathers and
mothers who have
lived through these
changes of govern-
ment, but who may
have forgotten the CEN 5 CENT
dates, will appreci- THE NETHERLANDS. KING WILLIAM
ate the means which III. AND QUEEN WILHELMINA.
their children have in stamps for preserving the
knowledge in a definite and suggestive form.
It would not require much argument to prove


the value of a collection of stamps as a means
of education, had they been in use as long as
coins, for example.
Think of having the portraits of all the em-
perors of Rome, from Augustus to the fall of
the empire, upon a series of stamps like our
own United States issues, engraved by ancient
workmen as skilful as our modern engravers!
The simple and worn designs upon ancient coins
would have small value as historical relics in
comparison with such stamps.
Had the invention of printing and the use of
steam been events of two thousand years ago,
we might have had such priceless relics. Now
it is reserved for future generations of stamp-
collectors to glory in the rare and beautiful
issues of the great American Republic, beside
which Rome in her palmiest days was no larger
than the pygmy to the giant.
Stamps as teachers of history will be more
appreciated in the future than they can be in
the present.
The stamp-issuing nations, moreover, are now
providing commemorative issues upon the an-
niversaries of great events. This must add
greatly to the value of stamps as teachers of
important historical truths. The young col-
lector who has found it easy to remember that
Columbus discovered America in 1492, but not
so easy to recall the exact date, will have the
very day fixed in his memory if he can secure
the Argentine commemorative stamp which was
issued and used on one day only in the year
1892- October 12th.
Also 1498, as the date when Columbus first
It stood upon the mainland of
South America, will be easily re-
membered by means of the com-
memorative stamp which the
government of Venezuela has
CE just issued.
NEW SOUTH WALES The beautiful set of Columbian
STAMP. stamps of the United States, sim-
ilar in design, and engraved by the same com-
pany as this stamp of Venezuela, cannot fail to
awaken interest and keep in mind many of the
most important events connected with early
American history.
These commemorative issues always arouse
the greatest interest among collectors, and the

direct information which they furnish is in
many instances noteworthy. Take the Hong
Kong Jubilee stamp as an example. The
nationality of the inhabi-
Stants is seen in the name
S-- Hong Kong, and in the
Chinese characters on the
stamp. That it is an isl-
.' --r m |: and situated off the Chinese
coast near the great
city of Canton, every
collector knows; and
with the word "Jubi- STAMP.
lee," and the dates 1841-1891," shows that
it belongs to Great Britain, and has been in
her possession for more than fifty years.
The United States first issued commemo-
rative stamps to celebrate the centennial of
American independence in 1876, and its ex-
ample in that, and the great Columbian issue,
is being widely imitated. A number of other
nations have made similar historical issues, and
scarcely a month passes with-
out an announcement that some
country intends to commemorate
in this manner an event of its
Thus the value of a stamp-
HONG KONG collection as a teacher and re-
JUBILEE STAMP. minder of great events in history
is continually increasing. Those young people
who begin now the collection and preservation
of specimens, will some day find them an aid in
the understanding of history and geography.
No knowledge gained in school slips away in
later life more easily than the facts of geogra-
phy. Indeed, no learning will long remain in
all its fullness unless its details be occasionally
recalled anew. Stamp-collecting brings the sit-
uation of every important nation of the earth
again and again through life to the mind of the
All his reading of the newspapers, which are
continually reporting events in foreign coun-
tries, is made clear and definite by the know-
ledge gained through stamp-collecting.



South and Central Africa, for instance, are
assuming considerable importance commercial-
ly, and for this and for other reasons our atten-
tion is being continually invited by newspapers
and by magazine articles to this portion of the
earth. No one knows so definitely as the
thoughtful stamp-collector (unless one has
made a special study of African territorial
changes) what
to protectorate
I have been; what
sections are gov-
I.. B rJA earned by what
nations, and

probabilities and reasons for commercial devel-
There are nations which issue stamps bear-
ing upon them maps of the section of the earth
in which they are situated. Yet it is not so
much through these maps as it is through the
fact that the stamps issued by the nations bring
existence and situ-
ation again and
again to the mind
of the collector,
that stamps are
valuable aids to
the knowledge of Sii
geography. AFRICAN STAMPS.
The knowledge of physical geography also
receives aid from the stamp-collection. For
example, the volcanic character of Salvador is
made evident by its stamps. The stamp-col-
lector never forgets this, but among other edu-
cated people it would be hard to find one in
a hundred who could tell positively whether
there are volcanoes in Salvador or not.
The productions and industries of many na-
tions are illustrated on their stamps.
The collector whose efforts have secured for
his collection the stamps here shown, will not
forget that Newfoundland sends out fishing-
smacks for cod.
The natural history of many countries is
taught by their stamps.
Where only is the kangaroo found? Whence
come the emu and the beautiful "bird of
VOL. XXI.-36.


paradise ? What is the country of the hippo-
potamus? Where is the land of the llama?
The young stamp-collector
We acquire, in connection
with progress in stamp-col-
lecting, certain habits of
close examination and dis-
S crimination which are most
COLOMBIAN STAMP. valuable in all departments
of life. The advanced col-
lector notes carefully all va-
rieties of color and shade.
He sees at a glance differ-
ences in the size of perfor-
ations. He knows what
laid and wove, quadrille
and ribbed papers are. He
studies water-marks. He
is well acquainted with the quality of the work
done by the most prominent firms of engravers
throughout the world. He sees in the differ-
ences between the Paris and Athens prints of
the Greek stamps, and in the roughness of the
native Bolivian lithograph, made when its stock
of finely engraved stamps
ran short, the comparative
progress of nations in the
arts of the engraver and
printer. The wit-sharpening
process which the stamp-
collector undergoes in these SALVADOR STAMP.
and in many other ways cannot be over-esti-
The lessons. that are given to the stamp-




collector by his stamps are being constantly in-
creased in number and broadened in scope by
the new issues made by the nations. Stamp-
collecting has greatly advanced, and is much
more valuable than it was twenty years ago.
The advance of the future will undoubtedly
increase in a remarkable degree the valuable
character of the pursuit from the educational
Stamp-collecting, as an
elevating, refining, and
character-developing plea-
sure, is in the very front
rank among human amuse-
ments. Let a boy become
thoroughly interested in LIBERIAN STAMP.
stamp-collecting, and let him receive the help
and encouragement in it from his parents which
he does in other pursuits, and we prophesy for
him a successful future. He will be more likely
to use his spending-money wisely; and the in-
terest in stamps will never leave him.

The editor and publishers of ST. NICHOLAS
have noted the eager way in which young


people are taking up stamp-
collecting. They see that this
interest is constantly increasing
and spreading. They appreci-
ate the value of the pursuit when
properly conducted. They have
therefore decided to open a
stamp department, devoting PERUVIAN STAMP.
a page or more each month to the subject.
The object of this stamp department will be
to help young collectors to choose the best
methods of collecting, and to make their col-
lections in such a way that they will be to
them not only a pleasure, but a decided aid in
their general education.
The department is opened for your benefit,
young collectors, and we ask your help and
cooperation, that it may be the greatest possible
We know you have many questions you
would like to ask about stamp-collecting.
Send them in a letter to ST. NICHOLAS, mark-
ing it Stamp Department," and you will find
your answers sooner or later on the page de-
voted to stamps.



.'..77,.HIS world of ours is full of song
To overflowing, dear;
."! And many are the carols sweet
, i '*.. For Christmas time o' year.

Tihei all the bells in joyful tone
Rinm.- out "May peace abide
(O'. r .ll the earth," not here alone,
" This blessed Christmas-tide.
Good will to men," from zone to zone,
In countries far and wide.



HERE comes a fine young fellow with whom
I trust we shall all become well acquainted-
Master Eighteenhundredandninetyfour.
It 's a long name, I admit, but then he comes
of a long line of ancestors, and it has taken him
just eighteen hundred and ninety-three years to
get here-or is it ninety-four? That is too trifling
a point for this pulpit, so I must submit it as a
puzzle to be solved in your leisure moments.
A New Year. What wonder that his appearance
is hailed with joy and gratitude, and a little anxiety!
What may he not bring to us ?-and, on the other
hand, what may he not take away? These are
questions which are yet to be answered, and your
Jack trusts satisfactorily answered. Never forget
that while there probably are undoubted blessings,
and absolute sorrows in every year,-many gains
and many losses,- there also are pleasures that it
is no loss to lose, and disappointments that may
prove in the long run to be a great gain.
It is given to us to shape our own days to a great
extent. Even my birds know this; and they are
so near you and so fond of you (at a distance) that
I 'm sure they '11 be pleased at my mentioning the
matter this morning. As for Deacon Green and
the dear Little Schoolma'am bless them why,
they have begged me to give on this occasion
quite a good deal of excellent advice that I really
have n't about me at this moment. So, my chil-
dren, just greet the New Year with an open mind,
a warm, loyal heart, and a firm, no-nonsense sort
of a conscience, and Eighteenninetyfour, as the
Deacon already calls him, will take you cordially
by the hand.
Now let us consider the subject of

MANY of you, my hearers, as I have learned by
your letters, have heard, or fancied you heard, the
corn growing in a corn-field. Now, here comes a

true story of silent but wonderfully quick growth,
attestedby an almost eye-witness, as you presently
shall see:
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I wonder if your young
crowd have any idea how rapidly some plants grow ? I
can tell them of one instance which occurred at my own
home. On one side of our path is a vegetable and flower
garden with splendid bits of color, and on the other is
grass. The weeds had been removed on the first of
September, the path and lawn raked perfectly clean, and
a few mornings afterward, at eight o'clock, I went, book
in hand, to the hammock that hangs between an apple
and a cherry tree. While settling myself comfortably in
it, I noticed how very smooth and green the grass looked.
The volume once opened, everything else was forgotten
until I heard the big hall clock strike ten. Then I real-
ized I had spent two hours in solid enjoyment. Rising
from the hammock, I saw just by my side a cluster of
toadstools, one quite large, and two or three smaller
ones, where two hours before not a hint of a toadstool had
been visible! My regret was that I had not seen the
ground break and the little plants come forth; but there
they stood bravely, a wonderful example of rapid growth.
Yours truly, LUTIE E. DEANE.

"How many feet has a cat?" asks the Little
Schoolma'am. "Four." "Quite right. And how
many claws has a cat?" "Why, four times five,
of course," says the lightning-calculator boy of the
Red Schoolhouse. "Has she?" exclaimed the
Deacon in surprise-

How many claws has our old cat?"
Asked Eddie. "Who can tell me that?"
Oh, that," said Harry, "every one knows:
As many as you have fingers and toes."
Yeth," lisped Ethel, "shee'th justht got twenty;
Five on each foot, and I think it-th plenty."
"Yes," said Bertie, "just five times four;
That makes twenty-no less nor more."
Wrong," said Eddie; "that's easy seen;
Catch her and count 'em she has eighteen !
Cats on each of their two hind paws
Have only four, and not five, claws."
P. T.

Do you know the twelve signs of the Zodiac
pictured on the new cover of this magazine-
Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra,
Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Aquarius, and
Pisces? Of course the younger readers of SiT.
NICHOLAS will need to be told about them by
their parents or teachers; the very youngest of
them will see in them only pictures, and very
pretty ones, too; but the big boys and girls must
search their memories or their books, and they
will discover that these tiny round pictures have a
great significance. Even the largest dictionaries
contain in their silent pages something about the
signs or constellations of the Zodiac that I venture
to say will be new to more than half of the grown-
up persons in the English-speaking world.



THIS is one of the funniest entertainments ever seen,
and one of the easiest to prepare.
It needs only a screen or a curtain stretched across
any room.
The height of the curtain may be determined by the
size of the children who sing in the concert, for they
stand in a row behind the screen or curtain.
It is well to have these singers nearly of the same
size, as the screen or curtain should conceal all of their
bodies except the head and neck.
The only preparation required is that the arms and
hands of each should be covered with stockings, and that
shoes be worn upon each hand with the soles of the shoes
pointed forward, so that the toes will be turned toward

the spectators, who are seated in front of the curtain at
a little distance. At the conclusion of each verse the
singers stoop down all together and very quickly, and
each, lowering the head, elevates the arms above the
The effect thus produced is that all the singers seem
to be standing on their heads.
They keep time with their feet (or rather hands) to
the music of the song, and the sudden changes, when
done simultaneously, will never fail to amuse.
The idea of this unique performance probably origi-
nated in the fertile brain of a Frenchman; but it has
been adapted for the use of children, and will prove an
enjoyable addition to the holiday merrymakings.


ST. NICHOLAS readers will welcome this cordial letter much pleased I was with the gift, and how grateful I am
from their friend Helen Keller. to the unknown friend who sent it. I always welcome a
new book as I would a dear friend. I have many of
HULTON, PA., October 28, 1893. them now, some that I read myself, and others that my
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Last summer, just before I teacher reads to me. They are, as I am sure ST. NICHO-
started on my trip around the world,--for that is what a LAS knows, sweet companions, and I spend some of the
visit to the World's Fair really is,- I received a beauti- happiest hours of my life in their beloved society.
fully bound edition of ST. NICHOLAS for I891, and, as I I think ST. NICHOLAS will be glad to hear that I am
do not know who sent me the beautiful present, I thought spending this winter in Hulton with some very dear
I would write and tell my good friend ST. NICHOLAS how friends. I am studying Latin, mathematics, and litera-

U~ia~~~cic~i ~ W~~4~P



THIS is one of the funniest entertainments ever seen,
and one of the easiest to prepare.
It needs only a screen or a curtain stretched across
any room.
The height of the curtain may be determined by the
size of the children who sing in the concert, for they
stand in a row behind the screen or curtain.
It is well to have these singers nearly of the same
size, as the screen or curtain should conceal all of their
bodies except the head and neck.
The only preparation required is that the arms and
hands of each should be covered with stockings, and that
shoes be worn upon each hand with the soles of the shoes
pointed forward, so that the toes will be turned toward

the spectators, who are seated in front of the curtain at
a little distance. At the conclusion of each verse the
singers stoop down all together and very quickly, and
each, lowering the head, elevates the arms above the
The effect thus produced is that all the singers seem
to be standing on their heads.
They keep time with their feet (or rather hands) to
the music of the song, and the sudden changes, when
done simultaneously, will never fail to amuse.
The idea of this unique performance probably origi-
nated in the fertile brain of a Frenchman; but it has
been adapted for the use of children, and will prove an
enjoyable addition to the holiday merrymakings.


ST. NICHOLAS readers will welcome this cordial letter much pleased I was with the gift, and how grateful I am
from their friend Helen Keller. to the unknown friend who sent it. I always welcome a
new book as I would a dear friend. I have many of
HULTON, PA., October 28, 1893. them now, some that I read myself, and others that my
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Last summer, just before I teacher reads to me. They are, as I am sure ST. NICHO-
started on my trip around the world,--for that is what a LAS knows, sweet companions, and I spend some of the
visit to the World's Fair really is,- I received a beauti- happiest hours of my life in their beloved society.
fully bound edition of ST. NICHOLAS for I891, and, as I I think ST. NICHOLAS will be glad to hear that I am
do not know who sent me the beautiful present, I thought spending this winter in Hulton with some very dear
I would write and tell my good friend ST. NICHOLAS how friends. I am studying Latin, mathematics, and litera-

U~ia~~~cic~i ~ W~~4~P


ture under a private tutor, assisted by my teacher. I
enjoy mylessons very much, especially literature. I am
studying Tennyson's poems now, and have just learned
"The Brook." What a pretty, musical little song it is !
It makes me feel gay and happy, just as bright music
makes me want to dance. I like Latin, too, though I
must say the Romans had rather an odd way of express-
ing their ideas sometimes, and I do not think the lan-
guage is as pretty as the French. But arithmetic-well,
the less said about it the better! I suppose, if I am
patient, and try very hard, I shall understand it by and
by, and then I shall like it better; but now my mind
gets to fluttering like a little bird in spite of all my efforts
to keep it in the right place.
I am staying in a lovely place, with tall forest trees all
around the house, and to-day the wind is rushing through
them with a mournful sound, like the moaning of the sea
when there is going to be a storm. It seems to say:
"Summer is gone; winter will soon be here." A mys-
terious hand is silently stripping the trees of their beau-
tiful autumn tapestries, and the leaves fall like little
frightened birds, and lie trembling on the ground. But
this great change in nature does not make me sad, for I
know autumn does not die. She only sleeps for a little
while, tenderly wrapped in winter's soft mantle of snow.
It is as our dear poet said: "There is no death. What
seems so is transition."
But, bless me, what a long letter I have written I fear
ST. NICHOLAS will think I am a perfect little chatter-
box,- I say "little" because my thirteen years will not
make me seem very big to ST. NICHOLAS, though I am
rather tall.
My teacher joins me in wishing ST. NICHOLAS all
good things. May the dear God bless and prosper you
in the bright new year which is so nearly here.
Affectionately your friend, HELEN KELLER.

A GOOD friend of ST. NICHOLAS, Mr. H. Webster,
a chief engineer in the United States navy, writes that
he takes a great interest in the patriotic methods now
being carried on throughout the Union for increasing
the love for the flag. Having been in the navy since
1862, and passed through Farragut's river and bay cam-
paigns, he is familiar with naval practice, and he kindly
sends to the magazine the following letter giving clear
directions for making a flag of correct proportions by a
simple method based upon the stripes alone:
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In the November number of
ST. NICHOLAS I note an inquiry from "C." regarding
the correct proportions of the United States flag.
The answer to the query, taken from the Brooklyn
Eagle, is indefinite in that it fails to give such proportions
as to enable a tyro in flag-making to make one; and I
have ventured to send, for the benefit of the readers of
ST. NICHOLAS, a brief description of the system pursued
by the old quartermasters in the navy, who have all the
work of this kind to do on board our man-o'-war. The
flag is twenty-one stripes long, it is thirteen stripes wide,
the union is seven stripes square.
Applying these proportions to stripes four inches wide,
we have a flag eighty-four inches long, and fifty-two inches
wide; and the union will be twenty-eight inches square.
The top and bottom stripes of the flag are red, and the
bottom stripe included in the union is also red.
This method of working by stripes is easily remem-
bered, and makes the flag of just the right shape; and I
should think it a good idea if these notes were spread far
and near by publication in your magazine.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I notice on page 91 of the
ST. NICHOLAS for November the proportions of our
flag quoted by you from the Brooklyn Eagle. I am a little
army girl, eleven years old, and my father is an officer.
He tells me that the following is the proper description
of our glorious Stars and Stripes:
The garrison flag is 30 feet fly by 20 feet hoist, with
13 horizontal stripes of equal breadth, alternately red and
white, the red stripes being on the margin. In the upper
corner is the "union," of blue, one third the length
of the flag, with one white star for each State, and ex-
tending from the top to include the seventh stripe. The
post flag is 20 feet by Io feet, and the storm flag is 8 feet
by 4 feet 2 inches; both flags of the same color and design.
The Eagle is therefore not quite correct in its description.
The stars should be arranged for forty-four States, in
six rows, the upper and lower rows to have eight stars,
and the others seven each, arranged as follows, leaving
room for the symmetrical addition of stars for four more

4 *

4 *

Your friend, EMILY D- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: While Mama was away one
morning my brother and I wrote the verses below:

When the stars at set of sun
Twinkle in the sky,
Then the little babes at rest
Dream that mother 's by.

Then when morning light appears,
And the bright sun gleams,
Babes, and birds, and flowers, too,
Wake from sweetest dreams.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My brother and I have taken
you ever since you were started; but I have not had
you this last winter, as I have been attending a mili-
tary school in Illinois; and it seems so good to get home
and see you again.
My father is missionary to the Oneida Indians, and
we have lived among them for about two years. We
have grown very fond of them during this time, for
they are such simple, childlike, lovable people. In the
words of one of the more intelligent of their number,
they are only grown-up children, but like to be treated
like men and women." Their former missionary, Rev.
E. A. Googenough, lived among them for thirty-six
years, and the Indians grew to love him so that now
they can hardly hear his name without tears.
A great many years ago the Government established


six day-schools on this reservation, but now some of
them have been suspended, and a large Government
boarding-school established, which has, I believe, about
eighty pupils. There are also schools at Hampton, Vir-
ginia; Lawrence, Kansas; and Carlisle, Pennsylvania, to
which it has been the custom to send pupils; but now
that this Government school has been established, more
will stay here until they are further advanced.
About sixty years ago the Oneidas lived in western
New York; but about 1830 they moved out to Wis-
consin, under the leadership of their chief, Elijah Sken-
ando, a descendant of the chief Skenando who figured
in the Revolution. They settled ten miles west of the city
of Green Bay, where they still live. There is a little
stream called Duck Creek, which flows through the re-
serve. We have a rowboat on it, and have great fun.
Until about thirteen years ago the Indians still kept up
all their tribal institutions. The tribe was divided into
four clans, called the Bear, Wolf, Big Turtle, and Little
Turtle clans. Each clan had its special chief, and then,
over all, was a chief of the Oneida nation. The chiefs
were always elected.
The name Oneida means the People of the Stone ";
and the tradition runs that one day, as some families of
the Oneidas were out hunting, many years ago, Tam-
many, a great spirit, appeared unto them and delivered
unto them a red stone, saying that as long as the Oneidas
kept that stone they would be happy, prosperous, and
So whenever they went to war and conquered and
destroyed a village, they took a stone, painted it red,
and left it amid the ruins, in token that the Oneidas had
wrought the ruin; and their name was feared among all
their neighbors. I remain sincerely yours,

THE gaunt, bare trees against the wint'ry sky
Stand shrinking as the chill wind whistles past,
Lift their lean arms, and for a covering cry,
For they are cold, and shiver in the blast.

The glow and life of autumn all are gone,
The dull gray mist looks pitiless and drear;
The very heavens seem to droop and mourn,
Like one in grief who cannot shed a tear.

Along the streets the hurrying people throng,
Each pushing to reach home before the storm;
And faint the town-bells shiver out their song,
For e'en the bells must move to keep them warm.

But now the fury of the storm bursts forth;
Its efforts to control itself are vain.
It shrieks and moans and ravages about,
And moans and shrieks and ravages again.

Down from the clouds the frightened snowflakes haste,
Afraid to stay within the angry skies,
And swirl and fall, and make each dreary waste
Look like a fairy garden to our eyes.

The seared leaves that still lie scattered round
Spring up and madly join the fairy dance,
But soon in dust are beaten to the ground,
While still the dizzy snowflakes twirl and glance.

Out from their windows all the children gaze
With eager eyes upon the pretty sight;
They chat with glee of all the coming days,
And laugh and clap their hands in sheer delight.

Beneath them, swift, a pauper hurries by;
He pulls his thin coat tighter o'er his chest,
And glances upward with an anxious eye-
He does not think that winter-time is best.

From out the barn the farmer's whistle comes;
The while he makes his cattle snug and warm,
He claps his mitten'd hands, and sings and hums,
And tells his cattle how he loves the storm.

The skipper leans against his rolling mast,
And looks with joy upon the snowy air,
And cries: Ho! mates the winter 's come at last! "
And so it has-'t is winter everywhere.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been an interested reader
of yours for a long time.
Our city was laid out about a hundred and forty-eight
years ago. In 1755 George Washington went through
here, over what is called the National Pike Road, with
General Braddock. Then this country was governed by
the British. Francis Scott Key, author of the "Star
Spangled Banner," is buried here in Mount Olive Cem-
etery. I suppose all of your readers know of Barbara
Frietchie; she is buried in the Reformed Church grave-
yard. We have a very old school here called Frederick
College, which has had some noted statesmen among its
students. There is a big tree at the rear of the college,
on the opposite side of the street, that Stonewall Jackson
tied his horse to when he came through here in 1862.
Yours truly, CHARLIE J-.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl twelve years
old, and I am the eldest of four children. I have taken
you for two years, and like you better than anything I
ever read.
I live in the southern part of Missouri, in a little town
in the Ozark Mountains. In June, Papa, Mama, and
we children, with a party of friends, took a trip down the
Current River to the Club House. It is situated on a
great rock about three hundred feet high. From the top
you may get a beautiful view of the winding river and
the surrounding mountain-peaks. You ride about forty
miles on the cars to Chickopee, and from there take the
boats to the Club House. We had a lovely trip, and
were all sorry when it was ended.
Your constant reader, NEELY C. T-.

WE thank the young friends, whose names follow, for
pleasant letters received from them: Lottie S., Lorenzo
B., May D. S., Ruth and Beth A., R. W. W., Howard
L., Helen C., S. E. R., Addie B., Hazel J. H., Pauline
C. D., Daisy S. and Laura W., Beatrice W. C., Laura
G., Caroline S., Frances G., Caroline W. H., Flossy
Laura C., J. S. H., Mary J. R., "' Lady Clermont,"
Laura L. and Louise C., Vivian C., Florence C., Fan-
chette W. M., Mary L. E., Helen K., Elizabeth S., Tina
M. N., Frank C., Mattie W. L., Nellie B., Eveline J.,
Leila E. N., Lora M. M., M. E. W., Fannie G. G., Edna
S. O., Myrtle W., Florence B., Leigh B., Jean McK.,
Edith S. H. and Jennie B. M., James D. McL., Eva B.


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