Front Matter
 Sir Morven's hunt
 Nan Merrifield's choice
 Decatur and Somers
 The bears of North America
 The brownies through the union
 The punctuation points
 In Japan
 The drum-major
 A young hero
 Jack Ballister's fortunes
 The last of the "kearsarge"
 "Charles Carroll of Carrollton...
 Old Colonel Camera
 A visit to the North Pole
 July the fourth
 The Studlefunks' bonfire
 Rhymes of the states
 At school
 The frogs fourth of July
 Throught the scissors
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00285
 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: VID00285
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
        Frontispiece 1
        Frontispiece 2
        Page 754
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Sir Morven's hunt
        Page 755
        Page 756
    Nan Merrifield's choice
        Page 757
        Page 758
        Page 759
        Page 760
        Page 761
        Page 762
        Page 763
        Page 764
        Page 765
        Page 766
    Decatur and Somers
        Page 767
        Page 768
        Page 769
        Page 770
        Page 771
        Page 772
        Page 773
        Page 774
        Page 775
        Page 776
        Page 777
    The bears of North America
        Page 778
        Page 779
        Page 780
        Page 781
        Page 782
        Page 783
        Page 784
    The brownies through the union
        Page 785
        Page 786
        Page 787
        Page 788
    The punctuation points
        Page 789
    In Japan
        Page 790
    The drum-major
        Page 791
        Page 792
        Page 793
    A young hero
        Page 794
        Page 795
        Page 796
        Page 797
        Page 798
        Page 799
        Page 800
    Jack Ballister's fortunes
        Page 801
        Page 802
        Page 803
        Page 804
        Page 805
        Page 806
        Page 807
        Page 808
        Page 809
    The last of the "kearsarge"
        Page 810
        Page 811
        Page 812
        Page 813
        Page 814
        Page 815
        Page 816
    "Charles Carroll of Carrollton"
        Page 817
    Old Colonel Camera
        Page 818
    A visit to the North Pole
        Page 819
        Page 820
        Page 821
        Page 822
        Page 823
    July the fourth
        Page 824
    The Studlefunks' bonfire
        Page 825
        Page 826
        Page 827
        Page 828
        Page 829
    Rhymes of the states
        Page 830
        Page 831
    At school
        Page 832
    The frogs fourth of July
        Page 833
    Throught the scissors
        Page 834
        Page 835
    The letter-box
        Page 836
        Page 837
        Page 838
        Page 839
    The riddle-box
        Page 840
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



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VOL. XXI. JULY, 1894. No. 9.
Copyright, x894, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.



OH, it's twenty gallant gentlemen,
Rode out to hunt the deer,
SWith mirth upon the silver horn
And gleam upon the spear;
They gallop'd thro' the meadow-grass,
They sought the forest's gloom,
S,- And loudest rang Sir Morven's laugh,
And lightest tost his plume.
There 's no delight, by day or night,
Like hunting in the morn;
.. '' So busk ye, gallant gentlemen,
And sound the silver horn!

They rode into the dark greenwood,
By ferny deli and glade,
And now and then upon their cloaks
The summer sunshine played.
They heard the timid forest birds
i / Break off amid their glee,
,\1 ', /- They saw the startled leveret,
iB ut no stag did they see.
S/Wind, wind the horn on summer morn!
K.-a Tho' ne'er a buck appear,
There 's health for horse and gentlemen
i A-following the deer.


They panted up Ben Lomond's side,
Where thick the leafage grew,
And when they bent the branches lic-k
The sunbeams darted through;
Sir Morven in his saddle turn'd
And to his comrades spake,
"Now quiet! we shall find a stag
Beside the Brownies' Lake."
Then sound not on the bugl.: bi:r'
Bend bush, and do not
Lest ye should start the
fleet-foot hart
A-drinking at the "-



I Ii I

(~ I

Now they have reached the
Brownies' Lake-
A blue eye in the wood-
And on its brink a moment's space
All motionless they stood.
Then suddenly the silence broke
With twenty bowstrings' twang.
And hurtling thro' the drowsy
V Their feather'd arrows rang.
-Then let the silver note
/ d Across the forest cool;
/ Sir Morven's dart hath slain
/the hart
S Beside the Brownies'

When shadows seal the forest up
And o'er the meadows fall,
Those twenty gallant gentlemen
Come riding to the Hall;






, '' ,,'


With gleam of torch and merry shout
They crowd the courtyard then,
To lift from Morven's saddle-bow
A royal stag of ten.
Oh, lay aside the trusty spear,
And lay aside the horn!
To-night we '11 feast upon the deer,
And hunt another morn.




THE front door banged, an umbrella fell
into the stand with a sharp click, and a boy's
voice shouted:
"In here," came the answer from behind the
portieres, and Bob Merrifield walked into his
uncle's library, to find his cousin Nan seated
comfortably on the floor in front of the low
A saucy lifting of the eyebrows was her
greeting, followed by the question:
"To what am I indebted for the honor of
this call ? "
Oh! it was a rather wet afternoon, and I
did n't have a good book, and Jack 's gone to
the city," was the answer, given with the usual
politeness of fifteen-year-old cousins.
"And you thought I might serve to amuse
you under such circumstances ? Much obliged,

I am sure; but as long as you are here you
can make yourself useful. We have to find
an example of oratorical climax for Monday's
Rhetoric, and Miss Bird told me to look in
Patrick Henry's speeches. Just hunt it up for
me, will you?" and Nan handed him the vol-
ume over which she had been bending.
Bob turned the pages slowly, then with-
"Here you are, I guess," read a portion of
the famous appeal to arms. Beginning with,
"There is no retreat but in submission and
slavery," he grew more and more earnest, till at
the last well-known words, Give me liberty,
or give me death," his voice rose to a ring of
enthusiasm that caused the audience of one to
clap heartily from her seat on the arm of the
With a rather sheepish look, Bob tossed the
book upon a chair near by, saying:

"`'~";~" ~P~~


"One cannot read such words without roar-
ing. Is that the speech you wanted?"
Yes, I think so," answered Nan; but you
need n't be ashamed of the 'roaring,' as you
call it. I am sure I wish you would speak it
that way in school."
Could n't do it, Miss Merrifield. Imagine
your humble servant committing prose, when
verses nearly use him up. Why, it would take
a whole afternoon to learn enough of that to
make a show."
"Well, I think it would pay better than
some of the things you boys recite. I am so
tired of Abou Ben Adhem' and Marco Boz-
zaris'; as for dear Horatius,' I sometimes wish he
had been nicely drowned in his beloved Father
Tiber, with all his harness on his back.' I tell
you, if I were a boy, I would just set to work
and learn some of those grand prose things, if"
-and a scornful gleam shown in Nan's brown
eyes-" if it did take a whole afternoon'! "
The only chance I ever had," she went on,
"was when Miss Jackson had us commit the
first and last clauses of the Declaration. Do
you remember? "
"I should think I did," was Bob's reply;
" and fine work some of you girls made of it.
Was n't it a lark to hear Lily Ames recite with
that pretty little lisp, 'our liveth, our for-
tuneth, and our thacred honor'?"
Both cousins laughed heartily at the recol-
By the by," said Nan, "our turn to speak
comes in two weeks. Have you chosen your
piece ?"
"Yes, and I have a fine one for you, too.
Do you know 'The Jackdaw of Rheims'?
Where 's the poetry encyclopedia?"
Nan brought it from the table, and both
heads bent eagerly over the index.
"'Barbauld,' 'Barbour,' 'Barham,' page
three-fifty-six,-here it is!" Then for five
minutes there was no sound but the beating of
the raindrops as the cousins read the bright
poem in silence.
It 's just splendid! exclaimed Nan, as she
finished; "but don't you want it for yourself? "
"Too long by half; besides, I hate those
wiggling verses. Give me nice, respectable
four-liners, with two rhymes to a stanza."

"You lazy creature! What is your choice
this time ? "
Goldsmith's Mad Dog'; know it? It 's
just my style; not very long, and you can't tell
whether it 's meant to be sad or comical. It
will be great fun watching the folks' faces.
You just wait till you see the solemnity with
which I shall declaim-

The man recovered from the bite,
The dog it was that died! "

Why, do you know it already? questioned
Nan, in surprise.
"Almost. Some one gave it to Baby Nell
in a picture-book, and shekept me reading it to
her till I could n't help learning it by heart."
Nan burst into an irrepressible laugh.
"You certainly are the most labor-saving in-
dividual, Bob Merrifield; but all the same I
am ever so much obliged for The Jackdaw.
It 's exactly what I like; it is funny, but not
"I thought it would suit, and I guess you '11
do it all right, for you are pretty good at that
sort of thing, if you are my cousin."
Much obliged for the compliment, and I '11
return it, only I'cannot help wishing that you
would try Patrick Henry."
"I will leave him for you, this time; but
there !--Jack's train is due, and I must go. If
you take The Jackdaw, be sure to get him up
in fine style. I '11 promise to start the ap-
plause." And with a farewell pull of his
cousin's long braids, Bob departed as sud-
denly as he had come.
Left to herself, Nan proceeded to read her
chosen piece aloud.
"It 's the best I have had in two years. I
know just'what gestures to make, and I '11
wear my new red dress." There she paused
and smiled to herself, for somehow the pros-
pect was very pleasing.
Nan Merrifield was not exactly vain of her
gift for recitation; but who does not take
pleasure in the consciousness of doing a thing
acceptably ?
It was only that morning that one of her
friends had said:
"I am so glad we are coming to the middle
of the alphabet. It is such a relief when it is




time for you two Merrifields, for you always
have such nice, funny pieces."
It was of these words that Nan was think-
ing when the clock, striking six, reminded her
that dinner would be in half an hour. She
picked up the volume of speeches, and her
eyes fell again on Patrick Henry's famous
"How I wish I could do it!" she sighed,
and then proceeded to read the speech through
with her finest em-
phasis; but the re-
sult was anything
but satisfactory, and
she closed the book
with an exclamation
of disgust. No, it
needs the roaring,'
as Bob said; but
I do wish there was
some great, quiet
thing that I could
learn and speak, for
I am getting tired
of doing just funny
things; besides,"-
as she pushed the
book into its place
with a vindictive
slap,-" I should like
one chance to shame
those lazy boys."
Turning the new
notion over in her
mind, she went "'HERE IT
slowly up-stairs to
prepare for dinner. Twenty minutes later, in
all the bravery of a new dress, she danced
dpwn the staircase and paused with a low
courtesy before the hall mirror. The scarlet
and black image, with its rosy cheeks, dancing
brown eyes, and long flying braids mocked
.her. The idea of that figure attempting any-
thing serious was ridiculous,' and with her head
at its sauciest angle, Nan recited:

And the Abbot declared that, "when nobody twigged it,
Some rascal or other had popped in and prigged it!"

Those two lines of her prospective piece had
greatly tickled Nan's fancy, for, fifteen-year-old

girl that she was, she loved fun as heartily as
any boy that ever lived.
With scarcely a pause after the last word, she
raised one arm upward, then, pushing her other
hand inside the jacket-front of her black-velvet
zouave, she proceeded to declaim: "' Give me
liberty or give me-' but just there the ban-
gles on her upraised wrist slipped down with
a silvery ring; the contrast between that very
feminine sound and the words she was recit-
ing was too much
for Nan's dignity,
and the speech end-
ed in a merry laugh.
As she turned
from the mirror, she
caught sight of a
figure standing in
S the shadow of the
staircase. With a
cry of joy she dashed
"Brother Jim! I
am so glad you
have come. We
did not expect you
till to-morrow."
And some one
else was glad too,
if the close clasp
in which the lit-
tle sister was held
meant anything.
But there was a ro-
,' SAID NAN." guish twinkle in the
brother's eyes as he
hung up his coat and remarked:
Would you kindly iifform me what wonder-
ful composition you were declaiming just now ?
It struck me as a most remarkable mixture of
slang and solemnity."
Nan laughed.
"I '11 tell you all about it after dinner. I
want a serious talk with you, too, on a serious
subject, as soon as possible."
"As serious as you like, little woman. I
have an engagement at eight-thirty; but the
time between that and dinner is at your dis-
posal"; and young Mr. Merrifield went up-
stairs for his mother's welcome.




In that last reply of his, lies the key to
Nan's ardent love for her only brother.
"Why, yes; he teases me of course," she
would answer, when questioned as to that in-
herent quality of the fraternal class. But,
somehow, it is always when I don't mind, and
when I want him to be serious, he is."
It was to "Brother Jim" that she brought
her difficult problems for explanation. It was
he who heard her history-lessons, and drew
such interesting plans of those dreadful Civil
War campaigns that she could actually remem-
ber that Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville
were on the same side of the Rappahannock.
It was Brother Jim who had concocted such a
famous scheme for learning the Latin conjuga-
tions, and it was on the arm of this same
brother's chair that Nan took her seat after
dinner and told her new idea, ending with the
"Do you think it is silly ? "
"Silly? No," and her brother stroked his
mustache, thoughtfully. "On the whole, I
think it would be most sensible if it could be
carried out, for of course a failure would never
do. You would need a certain kind of a
speech. Are your desires particularly set on
Patrick Henry ? "
"Oh, no; I thought perhaps you would
know something that would not need so much
"Well, let me see, there 's Webster's famous
speech, with the Massachusetts part and the
Union ending. How would you like one of
those selections?" and her brother laid an
open book before Nan's eager eyes.
She read the two extracts, slowly.
"Yes, they are very grand-sounding; but I
should have to keep thinking what the long
words meant,-besides, they are only parts.
Did n't any one ever write a short, great
speech, that I could understand right off?"
asked Nan, with a beseeching tone in her ear-
nest voice.
A short, great speech that she could under-
stand ? To one familiar with his country's ora-
tory, there was little question where to find
a composition answering to that description.
Opening the book again, Mr. Merrifield said:
"There are two: Lincoln's second inaugural

and his Gettysburg address. Read them care-
fully"; and he took up the evening paper. But
he found the stock-quotations decidedly dull
when compared with the intent young face
beside him.
First she read the inaugural; then, turning the
leaf, she began the immortal speech. Twice
the brown eyes traveled over the short page;
then lifting a face glowing with suppressed
feeling, she asked:
Do you really think that I could say this
without hurting it ? "
Her brother smiled at the anxious tone, then
said reassuringly:
Yes, indeed; I don't see why not. All you
need do is to recite in such a way that the au-
dience will forget all about you, and think only
of the words you are saying, and the thoughts
they stand for. That does not seem very dif-
ficult, and yet, as we have but two weeks, you
will have to work hard."
I don't mind the hard work, if you '11 only
tell me how," exclaimed Nan, all eagerness to
First comes the committing. To do that
well, you must know every next word without
thinking, for there will be no rhymes to help
along. Study it aloud, Nannie, if you can, and
when you have said it five times in succession
without a mistake, then we '11 see about the ex-
pression. There! I have preached quite a
sermon on elocution, but my time is up. Good
night, little orator"; and with a kiss on the rosy
cheek near him, Brother Jim departed.
During the next few days Nan realized that
her task was more difficult than she had sup-
posed. Many a time she blundered over those
two clauses in the middle of the speech that
seem so similar and yet are so different. But
she kept bravely at work, and Wednesday even-
ing met her brother with the triumphant ex-
clamation: "I 've done it seven whole times
without a mistake !"
After dinner the library doors were closed
and the training began.
Nan had decided to have no gestures.
I never could make any fit for the words,"
she said, "and my hands look so like a girl.
Don't you think I could put them behind my
back ? They would be out of sight then, and I




know the people that make speeches do that
After -a moment's thought, her brother
said yes.
Say it through once," were his next words,
and Nan obeyed. There was a slight tremble
in the girlish voice, but the words were spoken
with no hesitation, and in such a way that the
hearer felt instinctively the love and reverence
that they had aroused in the heart of the
"Very good, so far," was the brother's com-

ized till then how Catiline must have shaken
in his shoes. I suppose you would call it a sort
of reserved force, and that 's what I want for
There is no use trying to tell how Nan en-
joyed the evenings that followed, for her
brother told her story after story of his favorite
hero, Lincoln, and Saturday took her to New
York to see the famous cyclorama of the battle
of Gettysburg. After that, the words, "the
brave men, living and dead, who struggled
here," meant more to her than ever before.


ment; "only, of course, it must be stronger.
The great thing for a woman is to speak
clearly, because she cannot shout-and ought
not, either. I remember when I was in the
high school our teacher had a fancy to have us
read our Cicero in the Latin, with proper em-
phasis, and there was one girl who beat us all;
for while we boys thundered with all our lung-
power, she, with her low, clear voice made us
actually shiver. In fact, I think I never real-

The day after her decision she had met Bob,
and remarked:
I have found another piece, and I do wish
you would take The Jackdaw."
"What's the matter ? Going to give us Pat-
rick ? with a quizzical grin.
No, I 'm not."
"Is your new one better than The Jackdaw ?"
"Yes, I think so."
As long ? "


"Well, I thought you 'd find those peculiar
verses rather a pull. My Mad Dog is fine.
They '11 applaud it more than yours."
"I know they will," and the conversation
There had also been the announcement to
the rhetoric teacher. Ten days before the time
for recitation, each scholar was obliged to re-
port the name of the piece chosen.
The teacher glanced at the title written
on the slip of paper that Nan gave her, then
"Why, Miss Merrifield, do you really mean
that this is your choice ?" and she looked up as
if expecting to hear that the girl was joking.
"Yes; it is, Miss Bird," was Nan's answer.
" I really want to speak it, and my brother is
showing me how. You have no objections,
have you ? "
"Why, no. I suppose it is a good plan to
be familiar with such things, and you generally
know your pieces, so I trust this will be well
"Yes, Ma'am"; and Nan retired, saying to
herself, "Well committed !-as if that were all!"
Friday morning came. Her brother was to
be away till Saturday evening.
Good luck to you, little sister. Do your
best for Abraham Lincoln," were his last words;
and Nan felt as if a solemn trust had been
committed to her keeping.
"I suppose you will want to wear your new
dress this afternoon ?" her mother remarked, as
they rose from the luncheon-table.
Does n't this one look well enough ? asked
Nan, with an anxious glance at the plain folds
of her dark-green school-dress.
"Yes, indeed; only I thought the girls tried
to be a little gayer on speaking-days."
"They do, generally, but -well- Mother
dear, you know what my piece is, and some-
how I want to do everything I can to make
them forget about me and think only of the
great words I am saying. See, I have even
changed my hair-ribbons"; and with a tremu-
lous little laugh she pulled her braids over her
shoulder, showing two neat dark bows, in place
of the floating cardinal ribbons that usually
served to keep the bonny brown locks in place.

Mrs. Merrifield did not even smile.
I understand, little daughter. You have
Mother's best wishes for your success," was all
she said; but in her heart she felt that more
than Lincoln's great words would be needed
to make her forget, for one instant, the sweetly
serious face that had been lifted for her tender
kiss. However, we all know that mothers are
different from most observers.
When Nan entered the school-room, her first
act was to look toward the large blackboard
above the platform. She breathed a sigh of
relief: the program had not yet been written.
There were several glances at her dress, and
one girl exclaimed:
"Why, I thought it was your turn to speak
this afternoon ?"
"It is," was Nan's reply as she walked to
her seat and began to look over her algebra.
How she got through her recitations Nan never
knew. "You can't forget it; you can almost
say it backward," she kept saying to herself;
but in her heart she knew that her burning
cheeks and shaking hands came from no fear
of forgetting, but from the dread of bringing
into shame those grand words that she had
learned to reverence so deeply.
Two o'clock struck, and Miss Bird came in
to write the program. It was the custom at
Norton high school to hold a rhetorical exer-
cise of an hour, every Friday afternoon. There
were, usually, three essays and three recitations.
Those who took part were selected alphabeti-
cally from the three upper classes.
The program for this Friday was as follows:

Essay-" The County Fair "..... WALTER JENNINGS.
Recitation-"The Inchcape Rock".... ALFRED LANE.
Essay-" Curiosity".................. HELEN KING.
Recitation-" The Mad Dog".. ROBERT MERRIFIELD.
Essay-" My Favorite Heroine ".......KATE LESLIE.
Recitation -" The Gettysburg Address "

There it stood, at last, read by three hundred
curious eyes. Nan felt the many glances that
were turned toward her. It was a relief when
Miss Bird announced the first number on the
program. Just at that moment the door opened
and Mr. Lester, the principal, entered, followed
by a tall, white-haired man, whom all the schol-



ars knew to be Judge Lane, one of Norton's
most prominent citizens. He mounted the plat-
form, bowed with courtly grace as Miss Bird
offered him a chair, then, slowly raising his
gold-rimmed glasses, turned and read the pro-
gram. Nan watched, with her heart beating
fast, for the Judge was one of her father's
friends, and she would have been so glad if she
had felt sure of pleasing him. For just one
moment she thought of The Jackdaw, then with
an unconscious lifting of her head, and a silent
"Are n't you ashamed of yourself?" turned
her attention to the essay in progress. Walter
Jennings was convulsing his hearers with his
description of a county fair. Nan found her-
self laughing with the others, as he told of his
investment of ten cents for the sight of the
"wonderful phenomenon of a horse with his
head where his tail ought to be," only to dis-
cover a poor old quadruped faced about in its
stall. Nan's lip curled at the following recita-
tion, for this was one of the stock pieces, and
she was heartily weary of seeing "Sir Ralph the
Rover's" wonderful performances, as interpreted
by school-boy gestures. Helen King's "Curi-
osity" was as short and sparkling with wit
and humor as high-school essays sometimes
can be. Then came "The Mad Dog." Nan
was obliged to confess that Bob's solemnity
was irresistible. It was as he had predicted.
The audience was not quite sure as to the
humor or pathos of the piece, and Bob's sober
countenance kept them well in doubt till at the
end he recited the last two lines in the most
commonplace fashion, and there followed an
involuntary burst of merry applause. Judge
Lane's eyes had twinkled all through the reci-
tation, and Nan from her desk in the front row
heard a subdued Well done !" under cover of
the applause.
"Oh, dear! I wish they did n't like funny
things so well; but Kate will sober them down,
for she always writes serious essays," was her
inward comment. But-alas for her hopes!
"My Favorite Heroine" turned out to be
Mother Goose, and the dear old dame was
served up in such an attractive style that even
the coming orator could not help listening to
the end. Kate made her courtesy, and Nan's
time had come. Her knees shook as she left

her seat. It seemed an endless journey to the
corner of the platform. She would not meet
the mischievous look in Bob's eyes as she passed
his desk, but the muttered, "I 'm wid yez,
Patrick!" sounded clearly in her ears.
As she reached the platform her brother's
parting words flashed through her mind, Do
your best for Abraham Lincoln."
There was no further hesitation; with steady
step she passed to the front, linked both hands
loosely behind her, then paused one second for
perfect silence. The next instant there fell on the
school-room air, in a voice low, but strong and
clear as a sweet-toned bell, the opening words
of Lincoln's masterpiece:

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought
forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty,
and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created

One after another the short, grand phrases
fell from the girlish lips. Every consonant re-
ceived its full value, every word could be plainly
heard in the farthest corner of the large room.
Firm and strong rang the words:

The world will little note nor long remember what
we say here,-

and with hushed earnestness the sentence

but it can never forget what they did here.

Finally came the noble and inspiring close:

That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not
have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall
have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the
people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from
the earth.

The room was still, as Nan paused, with a
stillness more flattering than the loudest ap-
plause; but when she reached the head of the
platform'steps, the clapping began. It rose and
fell with a vehemence seldom, if ever, heard
before in that school-room. As Nan took her
seat, she caught a glimpse of the Judge thump-
ing his gold-headed cane with all his might,
but under the bushy white brows there was a
gleam of something in the keen eyes that all
Bob's solemn fun had failed to bring there.





Of course there were many in that school-
rooni-audience who applauded "because the
others did."
What did possess them to make such a
noise ? said Lena Chase, to her bosom friend.
"I did n't see anything very wonderful. Why,
she never made one gesture, and I am sure I
have seen her look a great deal prettier lots of
"Yes, so have I," answered the bosom
friend; "but I felt sort of shivery all the time
she was reciting, and when she finished I
could have cried or shouted, I don't exactly
know which."
As for Nan herself, she was almost tired of
being asked, "What made you do it?" "Are n't
you ever going to speak any more funny
pieces ? "
To the former question her answer was the
provoking but convenient Maybe I '11 tell
you, sometime"; to the latter, "Yes, indeed.
I have a very funny one for next time-one
that Bob chose for me."
When she was half-way home that afternoon,
she heard a quick tramp behind her. It came
nearer, and finally halted at her side. The next
minute, her cousin took the books from under
her arm, while he said, holding out his right
hand: "Shake hands on it, Nan. I give in;
the Mad Dog was awfully tame, and I 'm go-
ing to begin on Patrick to-morrow."
The following evening, when Mr. James
Merrifield came into the library before din-
ner, he found a rather silent little sister gazing
into the fire.
"Well, Nannie, how did it go ? "
"I don't know, exactly; nobody laughed,
and they looked pretty solemn, and-yes-
they clapped quite loud, but somehow I
did n't notice very much what happened.
But I did remember what you said, and
tried to do my best for you, and-Abraham
Before her brother could reply, her father
came into the room. As Nan stood up for
her evening kiss, he pinched her cheek and
said, as he handed her a sealed envelop:
"When did you and Judge Lane begin a
correspondence? He left this at my office

Nan broke the seal, and read in the Judge's
stately handwriting:

MY DEAR MIss ANNA: I trust that the inclosed may
serve to convey in some slight degree my appreciation
of your fine rendering of the greatest speech in our lit-
erature. I feel that it would have been impossible for
one who did not honor the writer of that speech, and
also the occasion that called it forth, to have spoken those
words as you did yesterday. It may be that your father
has told you that my only son was among those "hon-
ored dead." I remain, Miss Anna,
Yours sincerely,

Father and brother thought the Judge would
have been fully repaid for parting with one of
his cherished autograph manuscripts had he
seen the delight in Nan's face as she unfolded
the inclosed sheet of rote-paper. The slightly
yellowed surface showed but a few lines of
writing, but beneath them in plain, legible,
homely characters, stood the signature-


The Merrifield family spent two weeks in
Chicago last October. When Nan thinks of
that fortnight of delights, it seems one long,
beautiful dream of swift gliding over blue
lagoons between white wonders called build-
ings; of fascinating strolls in the famous Mid-
way, and of endless vistas of rare and curious
productions. There is one day, however, that
stands in the diary of her thoughts, stamped in
letters of gold. Strange as it may seem, it was
a day when she did not go to the Fair.
Nan must see the Lake Shore .Drive," her
brother had remarked one morning. And a
more perfect day for the sight could not have
been chosen. A strong north wind was toss-
ing the gleaming blue waves of Lake Michigan
all a-tumble, as Nan and her brother walked
along the famous avenue. Every now and
then a soft hissing crash filled the air, while the
feathery spray of the broken waves was tossed
six feet or more above the granite breakwater.
The girl drew long, delighted breaths of the




keen wind as they turned the comer into
Lincoln Park, and took their way toward
a flight of granite steps.
Whose statue is it ? was the question
that trembled on Nan's lips as she stood
with one hand resting on a huge bronze
ball and looked up at the figure above.
The question was never asked, for one
glance into the strong, homely face look-
ing down upon her was enough. Bronze
is a hard metal, but the face of Lincoln,
in St. Gaudens's statue, will always be
tender and grand to every American.
After that first long look, Nan turned
to her brother with an unconscious sigh
of satisfaction.
"Look under your hand, Nannie," he
said, and she obeyed. There, in letters
of bronze, she saw the well-known words,
beginning: "Fourscore and seven years
ago." Slowly following the characters over
the curves she read the speech to the end,
then, with another glance at the face.above,
she turned away.
Well, what do you think of it? asked
her brother.
"Think of it ?" came the prompt re-
ply-" that it is the very best thing I
have seen in all Chicago."
And Nan Merrifield thinks so still.


Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a
new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men
are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or
any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a
great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field
as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation
might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate-we cannot consecrate-we can-
not hallow-this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here,
have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will
little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what
they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the un-
finished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us-
that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for
which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve
that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall
have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, by the people,
for the people, shall not perish from the earth.



[Begun in the May number.1

BEFORE making any attack upon Tripoli,
Commodore Preble was awaiting the return
of the Siren," under Lieutenant-Commandant
Stewart, which had been sent to Gibraltar for
some stores, and to have some slight repairs
The Siren, however,
did not come back as
promptly as was ex-
pected, which annoyed
Commodore Preble ex-
cessively. The officers,
all of whom were Stew-
art's friends, were fearful
that it might hurt him
very much in the com-
modore's opinion. His
arrival, therefore, was
looked for anxiously,
and every hour of the
day, the question was
asked, "Has anything
been heard of Stew-
art ? And every day -
Commodore Preble's
vexation became more
evident. At last, one
morning, seeing a very
fine merchant ship that
was bound for Gibral-
tar, making her way
out of the harbor, the C N S T
commodore signaled to
her, and sent a boat with a letter to Captain
Stewart. The letter was written in the commo-
dore's most peremptory vein, and with his
curtest decision. It simply directed Stewart to
sail at once, without waiting for further repairs.

A day or two afterward, when the usual in-
quiries were made about Stewart, Trippe an-
swered dolefully:
The commodore has just had a letter from
him, saying his mainmast is'so badly sprung
that it is unserviceable, and he is having a new
one made. Was there ever anything so un-
lucky? Of course, he can't get here for a con-
siderable time, and all that time Old Pepper


will be lashing himself into a rage; and, on top
of this, Stewart gets the commodore's orders to
sail at once."
But one fine -morning, only a day or two
after this, a vessel which looked very like the



"Argus," a sister ship to the Siren, was discerned
approaching; and within a few minutes the
officers with their glasses declared her to be
the Siren. But she had no mainmast, and her
appearance with only one mast was grotesque
in the extreme.
"What can it be, sir, that Captain Stewart is
towing?" asked Pickle Israel of Lieutenant

before. He remembered his peremptory or-
ders to Stewart to sail at once. Stewart
had evidently taken him at his word, and
had sailed with one mast and was towing the
The good news that Old Pepper" had
smiled instead of scowling at Stewart's device,
quickly communicated itself to the officers, and


Trippe, as the two watched from the deck of
the flag-ship, the Siren approach.
Trippe examined it carefully; but, before he
could make out what the object was, the com-
modore walked up, and, handing Trippe his
glass, asked him:
"Will you be kind enough, Mr. Trippe, to
examine the Siren and see what'she is towing? "
Trippe took the glass, and he could not refrain
from smiling as he answered the commodore:
It is undoubtedly the Siren's mainmast, sir.
As you see, she has only her foremast standing,
and the spar is much too big and too long for
anything but the mainmast."
Commodore Preble's mouth twitched. He
had never seen a ship-of-war in such a plight

gave them great satisfaction. The reception
of the Siren's captain, when he came aboard
the "Constitution" soon after, was comparatively
mild, and his explanation so satisfactory that
he was invited to prolong his visit and have
luncheon with the commodore.
Decatur and Somers were much relieved at
the news brought them that "Old Pepper"
smiled grimly when Stewart told him about the
mainmast, and said "that was the way he' liked
to have his orders obeyed."
The fleet was now assembled for the first
demonstration against Tripoli; and not until
Commodore Preble himself had seen the "Phila-
delphia" and her position in the Tripolitan har-
bor, would lie finally fix upon any plan, although



Decatur had a promise that he should have the
honor of commanding the expedition.
One morning, in response to a signal from
the Constitution, all of the captains Decatur,
Somers, Hull, and Stewart-assembled on the
flag-ship, to hold their first council of war with
the commodore. As the four young captains
met on the quarter-deck, the extreme youth of
every one of them seemed to strike them sim-
ultaneously, and Somers remarked:
You, Decatur, will be the only one of us
with assurance enough to parley with the
Somers," said Decatur, with unwonted
gravity, "I do not feel as if I could make a
suggestion or argue with Commodore Preble,
if my life depended upon it."
"I pity the rest of us, then," said Stewart,
As the four young captains entered the cabin,
they passed a gentleman of middle age, who
was a guest of the commodore on board the
flag-ship. Captain Hull recognized him as
Colonel Lear, who was the American consul at
Tangiers, and, with a bow to the assembled
officers, the consul retired.
After the usual formalities, which Old Pep-
per" was careful to observe, unless he happened
to be in a choleric humor, the captains seated
themselves around the table, the commodore at
the head. Commodore Preble then opened his
plan of campaign, which was listened to with
the most respectful attention. He next asked
each of the youthful commanders for an indi-
vidual opinion. Each hastened to agree with
that of the commodore.
The commodore then asked if any one of
them had a suggestion to offer. Somers looked
at Decatur, and Decatur looked gravely at
Somers. Hull and Stewart looked straight
before them. After hemming a little, each
one in turn declared that he had' no sug-
gestions to make. "Old Pepper," after a
glance around the table, rose suddenly.
"Gentlemen," said he, "this council is over.
I regret to say that I have not had, in any
way, the slightest assistance from you. Good
The four young captains then filed out in
the same order in which they had entered, but
VOL. XXI.-97.

very much more quickly, and looking like
whipped school-boys.
Some hours after, Colonel Lear, entering the
cabin, found Commodore Preble sitting at the
table, leaning his head on his hands, in an
attitude of the deepest dejection.
Lear," said he, raising himself up, I have
been indiscreet in accepting the command of
this squadron, with the duty of punishing Trip-
oli. Had I known how I was to be sup-
ported, I certainly should have declined it.
The Government has sent me here a lot of
school-boys, as commanders of all my vessels,
and not one of them but is afraid to open his
mouth before me!"
Nevertheless, the commodore went on with
his preparations, and about the middle of De-
cember he set sail for Tripoli.
The squadron kept fairly well together for
some days. Then a heavy gale arose, and for
several days the ships did not see one another.
Toward night, on the day that the gale abated,
Decatur, while off the Tripolitan coast, caught
sight of a ketch with a lateen sail, and flying
Tripolitan colors.
He at once gave orders for the pursuit, but
the ketch showed herself a fairly good sailer,
and it took several hours to overhaul her. She
was skilfully navigated, and ran very close in
shore, hoping to induce the Argus to follow
her. But Decatur was wary, and, keeping well
off the shore, declined to trust his ship upon
the treacherous rocks \and shoals toward which
the Tripolitans would have led him. At last,
just as a faint moon arose in a murky sky, the
Argus got to windward of the ketch, and, bear-
ing down on her, opened fire with deadly pre-
cision. The Tripolitans at once hauled down
their colors; but Decatur, remembering their
treachery as told him by Somers, and knowing
that the pirates preferred hand-to-hand fight-
ing,'did not slacken his fire, but, standing on,
ranged up alongside. The call for boarders
had been sounded, and, of the Argus's small
company of eighty men, two thirds were ready
to spring aboard the Tripolitan at the word.
In another minute the two vessels were broad-
side to broadside. Decatur himself gave the
order to toard; and, as the Americans. sprang
over the side, they were met by every available




man in a crew as numerous as their own, and
armed with the terrible curved sword of the
Barbary pirates.
The fight on the deck of the ketch was furious
but short. The Tripolitans fought desperately
but in disorder, and within fifteen minutes they
were beaten.. Decatur, in examining his prize,
found that she had sustained but little injury;
and, bearing in mind (as he had done ever
since the first day he had heard of the Phila-
delphia's loss) the destruction of the frigate,
he determined that the ketch would be of great
use on the expedition, and he would, there-
fore, take her back to the rendezvous at Syra-
cuse with him.
She is of a build and rig common in the
Mediterranean," he said to his first lieutenant,
James Lawrence; "and, in arranging a sur-
prise, it would be best to have a Mediterranean
vessel which would not be readily suspected."
Lawrence agreed with his young captain.
Leaving the prisoners on board, a midshipman
was put in command of the ketch, with a prize
crew, and sent back to Syracuse. Decatur
then joined the rest of the squadron, and they
proceeded to Tripoli, where, lying off the town,
they gave it a bombardment by way of a prom-
ise of what was to come. The lack of small
vessels to enter the tortuous and rocky harbor,
prevented much damage being done; but the
Bashaw saw the fine fleet the Americans could
muster, and word was conveyed to him that it
would return in a few months with gun vessels
and bombards, and attack the town in earnest.
To Captain Bainbridge and the poor prison-
ers with him in the'dungeons of the castle the
sight of the American flag fluttering from the
gallant little fleet in the far distance was an as-
surance of hope, and the cannonade, which was
merely a defiance, was sweet music to the cap-
tives. The sight of the great Philadelphia rid-
ing at anchor under the guns of the castle and
the fort, and wearing the Tripolitan colors, was
a sore one for the American officers and sailors.
But Decatur, during all the days of the can-
nonade, kept his eyes fixed on the frigate when-
ever he could, studying her position, examining
charts, and thinking out the scheme for destroy-
ing the ship. He felt that he was destined to
achieve glory in that undertaking.

UPON the return of the squadron to Syra-
cuse, preparations went on vigorously for the
attempt upon the Philadelphia. Decatur's
first plan, which he held to eagerly, of going
in boldly and cutting out the frigate, was flatly
forbidden by Commodore Preble, as being too
rash. Decatur's second plan, of going in with
the ketch, disguised, and destroying the frigate,
was approved of by Commodore Preble, who
had, in fact, first suggested the idea to Decatur.
He and Old Pepper spent many long hours
in the cabin of the Constitution, perfecting
the details of the hazardous expedition; and
the commodore's respect for his "school-boy
captains" increased every day that they served
under him. Particularly was he gratified at the
spirit of instant acquiescence they showed, when,
after the keenest rivalry among them all for the
honor of supporting Decatur, the privilege was
accorded to Captain Stewart, in the Siren, which
was the fastest and most weatherly of the brigs
and schooners. Somers felt the deepest disap-
pointment; but, with his usual calm good sense,
he allowed no impatient word to escape him.
The ships were to remain at Syracuse all
winter. Meanwhile, every effort was made
to communicate with Captain Bainbridge and
his officers imprisoned at Tripoli. A large re-
ward was offered for the conveyance of letters
to and from the prisoners, and two letters were
successfully conveyed to Captain Bainbridge,
and answers received.
The general plans of Decatur's expedition
were now known among the American officers,
and privately discussed. "Old Pepper" gave
Decatur one last warning:
"You may dream, Captain Decatur, that
you could bring out a frigate of the Philadel-
phia's draft through that tortuous harbor at
night, under the fire of every battery in the
town, of the castle, and the whole fleet in the
harbor. Very well, sir, if you attempt it, and
get out alive, you shall be sent home at once,
under charges; for look you, Captain Decatur,
it is as dangerous to do too much, when you
are under my orders, as it is to do too little."
Decatur very wisely held his tongue, and



realized that the destruction of the ship was
all he could aim at.
The expedition was to start about the first of
February. Decatur consulted with Somers, and,
with his help, made out a list of the officers
he desired, which he submitted to the com-
modore. Decatur found himself ufiable to
make a choice among his three lieutenants,-
Lawrence, Thorn, and Bainbridge (the nephew
of Captain Bainbridge),-and felt obliged to
take them all.
Somers and Decatur were constantly together
during those last days, and Decatur was ably
assisted by Somers's extraordinarily good judg-
ment in matters of detail, especially regarding
the disguising of the ketch and her company.
Every officer and man was to be provided with
a jacket and trousers such as the Maltese sailors
wear; for the "Intrepid was to steal in as a
fruit-laden vessel from Malta.
At last, every preparation being well forward,
on the afternoon of the third of February, De-
catur, with Somers, was.pulled to the Constitu-
tion, where they found Stewart and Hull.
Every officer and man on the ship knew that
the choice of officers was to be made that day,
and all were on hand so as not to miss the
chance of going upon an expedition of so much
Decatur went immediately to the commo-
dore's cabin, where he submitted his list; and
every name was approved. As he appeared
upon the quarter-deck with the commodorehe
could not but smile at the ill-concealed eager-
ness of the officers, who could scarcely restrain
their impetuosity.
The commodore looked around and smiled;
not an officer was missing. He took his station
near the gangway, and an instant hush fell.upon
them. The boatswain's call to "Attention"
was a mere form.
Gentlemen," said he, "you perhaps know
that it is in contemplation to send an expedi-
tion, under the command of Captain Decatur,
to Tripoli, for the purpose of destroying the
Philadelphia, which has been raised, refitted,
and now flies the Tripolitan colors. Captain
Stewart, of the Siren, is to support Captain De-
catur, with his whole force. The ketch, so gal-
lantly captured by Captain Decatur, is to be

used, as being of a build and rig often seen in
Mediterranean ports, and therefore not likely
to excite suspicion. She has been fitly named
the Intrepid, and her ammunition is now aboard
of her, and she sails at daylight. Captain De-
catur has the selection of his brave assistants.
I can only say that his choice,-like mine of
the ships and the captains to do the work,-
will be made solely upon the ground of availa-
bility. If willingness to go were the oVy test,
there could be no choice; but in other respects
there is a choice, which Captain Decatur has
made, with my approval."
The names selected were then read off.
The older officers looked acutely disap-
pointed; many of them had hoped to go; but
they gave the lucky ones a rousing cheer, while
the "stay-at-homes" among the midshipmen
joined in, and all shook hands cordially with
their more fortunate messmates.
Decatur then ordered his boat alongside,
and said farewell to the commodore and the as-
sembled officers. He directed the midshipmen
to report on board the ntrepid at daylight;
and then, inviting Somers and Stewart to go to
his ship, all three were pulled to the Argus.
It was about four o'clock on a lovely after-
noon in February, which is a spring-like month
in Sicily. The ketch was at anchor, with the
red flag flying at her fore, showing that she
was taking on powder. On the Argus, too,
there was the tension of expectation, as they
knew from the state of forwardness in the
preparations of the ketch that the time of
adventure was at hand.
The three young captains came over the side
together, and immediately Decatur ordered the
boatswain and his mates' to pipe "All hands to
muster." Almost before the sound had died
away, the men crowded up the hatchways, and
the officers quickly ranged themselves on the
quarter-deck. "All up and aft" was reported,
and Decatur advanced with the list in his
"Gentlemen," said he to his officers, in his
usual impetuous way, "you know, perhaps, that
an expedition leaves at daylight to-morrow
morning, in the ketch Intrepid, to destroy the
Philadelphia, in the harbor of Tripoli. I have
the honor of commanding the ketch, while


Captain Stewart, in the Siren, commands the
supporting force. All will wish to go,"- a
murmur of assent was here heard,-"but all
cannot go; hence I select those who seem to
me best adapted to bear the hardships and to
withstand the peculiar fighting methods of the
Tripolitans. I have concluded to make no
choice among my lieutenants, but take them
all, and Midshipman Macdonough, and Dr.
Heermann, surgeon."
A rousing cheer, as on the Constitution,
greeted this announcement, and the five offi-
cers were warmly congratulated. Decatur then
turned to the men.
Of you, my men," he said, I will name
one who may go: the pilot, Salvador Catalano.
I wish sixty-one men out of the ship's company,
and I shall take the first sixty-one who volun-
teer. Let each man who wishes to go advance
two steps."
As if moved by a common impulse, every
man and boy on the ship, including two or
three just out of the sick-bay who had not yet
reported for duty, advanced two steps.
Decatur stood looking at them, his fine face
lighted up with pleasure.
My men," he said, it is impossible that all
should go. Let those who are most necessary
on the ship, those who are not physically strong,
and those under twenty and over forty, step
Not a man moved. In the midst of the
dead pause Danny Dixon spoke up, touching
his hat.
"Please, sir," he said, "ain't none of us
more 'n forty or less 'n twenty; ain't none of us
necessary on board the ship, as we knows on;
and ain't a one of us that ain't jest as healthy
and strong as a whale."
Decatur managed to take this without smil-
ing, but replied, "Very well. Pipe down,
boatswain. Within an hour I shall have made
out a list of the sixty-one men whom I wish
to accompany me."
Summoning Lawrence, his first lieutenant,
Decatur, with Stewart and Somers, disappeared
into the cabin, and the men were dismissed.
Next morning at daylight the five officers
from the Argus, the five midshipmen from the
Constitution, the sixty-one petty officers and

seamen, and the pilot, Catalano, were assem-
bled on the deck of the ketch. The accommo-
dations were bad, and not more than half the
officers could sling their hammocks at one
time;, but not a word of objection was heard.
Early as it was, Somers was on hand to bid his
friend good-by. Just as the pale pink flush
of dawn lightened the dark water, the Intrepid,
hoisting her one lateen sail, got under way, and
Somers, wringing Decatur's hand, dropped into
his boat alongside. As the ketch caught the
morning breeze and began to glide rapidly out
toward the offing, Decatur ran aft and waved
his cap at Somers, standing up in the boat, who
returned the greeting and then pulled away to
his own vessel. The Siren, being a fast sailer,
did not leave until the sun was well up, when
she too spread her white sails and flew.
Several days of delightful weather followed.
The officers amused themselves with rehearsing
the proposed strategy by which they were to
make the Tripolitans believe them to be Mal-
tese sailors, and the ketch a Maltese trading-
vessel. Catalano was to do the hailing,
prompted by Decatur, if they reached, as they
hoped, the Philadelphia's side. Except a few
men, the vessel's company was to remain be-
low, but ready at a signal to leap on deck.
The Intrepid proved to be a better sailer than
was thought at first, and, on a lovely afternoon
five days after leaving Syracuse, anchor was
cast about a mile to the windward of the town.
The Siren followed some distance behind. She
too was disguised, her ports being closed, her
guns covered with tarpaulins, and her sails
daubed with lampblack, while patches painted
on them represented old and worn canvas.
By devices of various sorts she was made to
look like a stanch American or English mer-
chantman after a long voyage. Having got
the Intrepid in a good position without being
discovered, Decatur was eager for night to fall,
that the desperate adventure might be made.
Right out before them lay the large though
dangerous harbor of Tripoli, the frowning
castle, and the numerous forts that protected
the t6wn. Among all the shipping the dark
and towering hull of the Philadelphia was most
conspicuous; and from her peak flew the
crescent of Tripoli.




There she is, my men! cried Decatur, as
he pointed her out. "All her guns are kept
double-shotted, and when we make a bonfire
of her, she will give the rascals a broadside
that will make them squeal."
The wind had been rising for some little
time, and just then it blew violently from the
southwest. The sky became overcast, and
suddenly darkness seemed to envelop them.
This Decatur thought rather favorable to his
scheme; but Catalano, the pilot, who knew
every foot of the harbor, came up at that
Sir," he said in English, but with a strong
Italian accent, "we cannot take the ketch in
to-night. The water is no doubt now breaking
clear across the reef at the western passage;
and, even if I could get in, there would be no
chance of getting out. I know this harbor
well, sir, and the water must be smooth before
it is safe to go near the reefs."
It was obviously impossible to attempt the
attack that night, and accordingly the Intrepid
so signaled the Siren. The wind had now be-
come a roaring gale, and soon the Intrepid
was stretching out to sea. It was observed
that the Siren was having trouble with her an-
chor, but she finally contrived to get away from
the offing.
For six days the storm raged. The brig,
which had finally been obliged to leave her
anchor and cable, managed to keep in com-
pany with the ketch, which threatened to
founder at every moment.'
Their provisions were soaked; and, in cold
and wet and hunger, these brave men wea-
thered the gale. But at last, on the morning
of the 15th of February, the weather moder-
ated, the wind fell, and a bright sun shone.
The ketch and brig found themselves in the
Gulf of Sydra. .As all signs promised good
weather for some days, Decatur signaled the
Siren to bear away for Tripoli, and began to
make his preparations for the attack.
Toward evening they found themselves in
sight of the town, with its circle of forts
crowned by the frowning castle. The great
hull of the Philadelphia, larger than any other
in the harbor, stood out in bold relief, her
masts and spars clearly defined against the daz-

zling blue of the African sky. Two frigates,
anchored about two cables' lengths apart, lay
between her and the castle, while nineteen gun-
boats and a few galleys lay near her. From
the castle and the batteries, one hundred and
fifteen guns could be trained upon an attacking
force; but the bold tars in the Intrepid took
all the chances cheerfully, and even gaily.
Every man had been instructed in his duty,
and the crew was not mustered, for fear of
awaking distrust. The watchword "Philadel-
phia" was passed around. The men quietly
took their places below the hatches, while half
a dozen officers sat or lay about on deck.
Catalano took the wheel, and Decatur, in a
common sailor's jacket and fez, stood by him.
The breeze had become light and baffling in
the offing, and the Siren, which kept well away
from the Intrepid in order to avoid suspicion,
was evidently unable to get any nearer until
the wind should change. But at the entrance
to the harbor it was very fresh, and carried
the ketch forward at a lively rate. Decatur
saw that his best hope wias to make a bold
dash then, without waiting for the gallant little
brig, that was almost becalmed. At the mo-
ment when the steersman made straight for the
western entrance to the harbor, Decatur ad-
dressed a few last words to his officers and men.
"You see," he said, in a firm, clear voice,
perfectly audible to all, although not loud,
"that Stewart and his gallant crew cannot as-
sist us. Very well; the fewer the number, the
greater the honor. Our brave shipmates now
in prison have been forced for many months
to see the shameful spectacle of an American
frigate wearing the colors of her pirate captors.
Please God, it shall be so no longer after to-night.
Let every man think of this; let him think of his
country; and, though we cannot hoist our flag
at the Philadelphia's peak, we can at least send
the ship to the bottom."
A half-suppressed cheer greeted Decatur's
brave words, and every officer and man felt
himself possessed by that noble enthusiasm
which works miracles of courage.
About nine o'clock, when they were a mile
off the town, a brilliant moon rose.
The scene was one of perfect peace ard
beauty. All the shipping in the harbor lay


quietly at anchor, and the water was so smooth
that their lights were as stationary as those that
twinkled in the town and the Bashaw's castle.
The Intrepid stole quietly in, leaving the
Siren farther and farther astern. The moon
was now high, flooding the sea with glory, and
making the harbor-lights mere twinkling points
of flame. The Intrepid steered directly for the
Philadelphia's bows, and this caused her to be
hailed while still at a considerable distance. A
number of Tripolitans were seen lounging about
the Philadelphia's decks; and an officer leaned
over the rail and called out:
"What vessel is that ?"
"The ketch Stella,' from Malta," responded
Catalano, in Italian. We were caught in the
gale, and nearly wrecked. We lost our anchors,
and our commander would like the favor of rid-
ing by you during the night." Decatur, in his
round jacket and fez, lounged near Catalano,
and whispered to him what to say.
Your request is rather unusual," replied the
"Bananas and oranges, with a few bales of
raw silk," answered Catalano, pretending that
he had understood the Tripolitan to ask what
the Stella's cargo was. The ketch continued to
draw rapidly near, and the supposed Italian
mariners moved lazily about, gesticulating to
one another.
Mulehead and son of a jackass!" cried the
Tripolitan, "it is nothing to me what you are
laden with. I say it is dangerous to have you
dogs of Christians made fast to us. If you get
on board, you will steal everything you lay
your hands on."
"That's not a very pleasant way to meet
men who have been in a whole gale for six
days, with all our provisions spoiled, and on
short allowance of water, and expecting every
moment to go to the bottom." So answered
Catalano, in an injured voice, the ketch still
advancing. steadily.
"Then you may lie by us until daylight,"
answered the officer. At the same time, he
ordered a boat with a fast and hawser to be
Not the slightest suspicion had yet entered
the minds of the Tripolitans that the Intrepid
was anything but a trading-vessel-and luckily

enough for Decatur and his dauntless company;
for at that moment a puff of wind came, the
Intrepid's head fell off, and she drifted directly
under the Philadelphia's broadside.
At this appalling moment, the least hint of
the Intrepid's real character would have meant
death to every man on board. Decatur, with
his unshakable coolness, ordered a boat out
with Lawrence and three seamen, carrying a
hawser, which they quietly fastened to the fore-
chains of the Philadelphia. The ketch, mean-
while, was drifting under the port-batteries of
the frigate, toward the stern, where, if she had
escaped the guns in broadside, the stern-chasers
could have annihilated her. But every man on
board shared Decatur's calm self-possession at'
this crucial moment.
The frigate's boat containing the fast had
then put out. Lawrence, rowing back to the
ketch, met the Tripolitan boat.
"Give us your fast," he said, "so we can
let go another hawser. We lost our best cables
with the anchors, and our hawsers are so small
that it will take two to hold us in case the wind
should rise during the night."
The Tripolitans handed out the fast, which
Lawrence coolly carried on board the Intrepid.
The men on the ketch's deck, catching hold
of the fast, then drew their little craft close to
the frigate's huge black hull, and were soon
breasting along under her port-side.
The shadow cast by the Philadelphia's hull
was of immense help to the Intrepid's men; but
near the stem was a great patch of white moon-
light, and any object passing through this glitter-
ing and shimmering belt could be seen as plainly
as in daytime. As the ketch glided steadily
along and into this brilliant light, her anchors,
with their cables coiled up, were seen on her
"Keep off!" shouted the.Tripolitan officer,
suddenly taking the alarm. "You have de-
ceived us; you have not lost' your anchors,
and we do not know your character"; and, at
the same moment, he ordered men with axes
to cut the fasts. But, as if by enchantment,
the deck of the Intrepid was alive with men,
whose strong arms brought her grinding up
against the frigate's side in a moment's time.
Then a great yell went up from the frigate.



"Americanos! Americanos!" cried the Tri-
politans. The next instant, Decatur, who was
standing ready, made a powerful spring, and
jumped at the Philadelphia's chain-plates,
shouting at the same moment: "Board!"
Morris and Laws, two of the midshipmen of
the Constitution, were at Decatur's side, cling-
ing to the frigate's plates. Morris and Decatur
both sprang at the rail, and Morris being little
more than a boy, and very lithe and agile, his
foot touched the quarter-deck first; but Deca-
tur's was second. Laws had dashed at an
open port-hole, and would have been the first
on the frigate, but his boarding-belt, with his
pistols in it, caught between the gun and the
port, delaying him so that he was third.
Instantly, in the dazzling moonlight, tur-
baned heads appeared over the rail and at
every port. The Americans came pouring over
the side, and as the Tripolitans rushed above,
they found the quarter-deck already in posses-
sion of the "Americanos." The Tripolitans
ran forward and to starboard. The Americans,
quickly forming a line across the deck, and
headed by Decatur, dashed at them; and,
caught between an advancing body of resolute
seamen and the ship's rail, those who were not
cut down, after a short but desperate resistance,
leaped overboard. The Americans proved more
than a match for them in hand-to-hand fight-
ing, at which they had been thought invincible,
and they fought in disorder. In five minutes
the spar-deck was in possession of the Americans.
Below, there was a more prolonged struggle.
The Tripolitans, with their backs to the ship's
side, made a fierce resistance; but they were
clearly overmatched from the beginning; and,
as it was their practice never to fall alive into the
hands of an enemy, those who were not cut
down on the spot ran to the ports and jumped
overboard, and, within five minutes more, there
was not a Tripolitan on board the frigate ex-
cept the dead and wounded. Not until then
did the batteries, the castle, the two frigates
moored near the Philadelphia, and the gun-
boats, take the alarm. The ketch, however,
fastened close under the overhanging quarter-
gallery of the frigate, and completely in the
shadow, still escaped detection. Lights began
to flash about from the ships and the batteries;

but not enough could be discerned to justify
the Tripolitans in firing upon their own ship.
Warning had been given, though, and it was
now only a question of a few moments how
long the Americans could work undisturbed.
Decatur now appeared upon the quarter-deck
to see that the powder on the ketch was rapidly
transferred to the frigate. Lawrence was with
him. When the moment came that Decatur must
give the word for the destruction of the frigate,
his resolution to obey orders almost failed him.
He turned to his lieutenant, and, grasping
him by the shoulders, cried out in an agonized
voice: "Oh, Lawrence why cannot this gal-
lant ship be cut out and carried off, a glorious
trophy of this night ? "
"She has not a sail bent," answered Law-
rence, firmly. "The tide will not serve to take
so large a ship out now; and, remember, it is
as dangerous to do too much under Commo-
dore Preble's orders as to do too little. Let
me beg you to give the order at once to. hand
up the powder. See, the frigate off the port-
quarter is lighting up her batteries."
For a moment or two, as Lawrence watched
Decatur's agitated face, he almost feared that
his young captain literally could not give the
order to destroy the ship, so intense was his de-
sire to bring her out. But, after a moment or
two, Decatur recovered himself. The opposi-
tion of so fearless a man as Lawrence con-
vinced him, against his will, that it was impossi-
ble to save the ship; and he gave the order,
and the men began rapidly hoisting the kegs of
gunpowder over the side, and carrying them
along the decks. In a few moments the gun-
room, the magazine-scuttle, the cockpit, and-the
forward store-rooms were filled with combus-
tibles, and smoke was already pouring from the
ports in the gun-deck, before those in the lower
parts of the ship had time to get up. They ran
to the forward ladders; and, when the last fir-
ing-party reached the spar-deck, the men were
jumping into the ketch, all except Decatur
and a small party of his own. Two eighteen-
pounders, double-shotted, had been dragged
amidships and pointed down the main hatch, in
order to blow the ship's bottom out; and a
port-fire, with a train of powder, had been
started, so as to fire these two guns with certain


effect. The sailors "then, seeing their glorious
work well done, dropped quickly -over the side,
into the ketch; the officers followed, and Deca-
tur, taking one last look at the doomed frigate,
now wreathed in curling smoke, left her deck.
And, the frigate being quickly enveloped in
fire and smoke, with little tongues of flame be-
ginning to touch the rigging, Decatur leaped
from the Philadelphia's deck into the ketch's
rigging; and, sixteen sweeps being already
manned, the order was given to cast off. At
that very moment the guns from the Bashaw's
castle, half gunshot off, boomed over the heads
of the Americans.
In this moment of triumph, though, they in-
curred their greatest danger of that dangerous
night. The head-fast having been cut, the ketch
fell astern of the frigate, out of whose ports the
flames were now blazing. The Intrepid's sail
flapped against the 'blazing quarter-gallery;
while on her deck, just under it, lay all her
S ammunition, covered only by a tarpaulin. To
increase their danger the ster-fast became
jammed, and they were fixed firmly to the
blazing frigate, while the ships' chore-batteries
now opened a tremendous fire upon them.
There was no ax at hand, but Decatur, Law-
rence, and the other officers managed, by des-
perate efforts with their swords, to cut the haw-
ser; and, just as they swung clear, the flames-
rushed up the tar-soaked rigging of the Philadel-
phia, and the two eighteen-pounders fired their
charges into the bottom of the burning ship.
The Intrepid was now plainly visible, in the
light of tbe blazing Philadellphia, to every man
on board the aroused fleet and batteries, and
to the crowds that soon collected on the shore.
Then the thunder, of a furious cannonade began.
And now, after this unparalleled achieve-
ment, the Americans gave one last proof of
their contempt of danger. As the Intrepid
worked out into the red blaze that illuminated
the whole harbor, a target for every .gun in the
Tripolitan batteries, the men at her sweeps
stopped rowing, every officer and man rose to
his feet, and, with one impulse, they gave
three thundering American cheers.
When this was done, they settled down to
getting out of the way.
As they drew farther from the shore, they'

were in more and more danger from the batter-
ies; but, although many shots threw showers
of spray over them, the Americans gave back
only derisive cries and cheers. A rapid count
showed that not a man was missing.
As they pulled with powerful strokes toward
the offing, they could see the vague outline of
the Siren and her boats, fully manned, lying
like black shadows on the water. The harbor
and town were as light as day, with the reflec-
tion from the blazing frigate and the silvery ra-
diance of the moon. The Philadelphia seemed
to be burning in every spot -at the same mo-
ment. Flames poured from her ports, and her
fifty guns, all shotted, began to go off in every
direction, as her blazing hull drifted helplessly
with wind and tide. Many of the shells from
her guns crashed into the fleet around her,
while, at almost every turn, she poured a furi-
ous cannonade of heated shot into the castle.
As her decks fell in, the guns were lowered
at the breech, and their hot shot went farther
and farther, even into the town itself. One shot
from the castle,passed through the sail of the
ketch; but the men only laughed.
They were soon well out of range, and close
to the launch and cutter of the Siren. Decatur
hailed the cutter, which was very fast.
"Bring up alongside," he cried, "and take
me aboard!" The cutter quickly drew along-
side. Decatur jumped on board, and .the boat
shot ahead of the slower ketch. As they
neared the Siren, Decatur perceived, by the
light of the moon, Stewart at the gangway,
anxiously peering into the darkness. He could
see only the officer in command of the boat in
uniform, and he did not recognize Decatur,
disguised in the jacket of an Italian sailor.
When the boat got near enough, Decatur made
a spring at the hawser that hung astern, and
in another moment he had sped along the
deck and clapped Stewart on the shoulder.
Did n't she make a glorious bonfire ? he
cried; "and we came off without losing a man "
Stewart. wrung Decatur's hand, while the
other officers crowded around and joined in
overwhelming Decatur with congratulations.
The wind still held, and, the Siren getting up
her anchor, Decatur returned on board the
ketch; and all sail was made for Syracuse.

(To be continued.)



* j .I










-vz7 V


^- ^4

*- 9-_j
*'" --n~wt"f

~- ~-.



FOR several years we have been h
some self-sacrificing American nature
tackle the bears of North America,
gether a collection of about two hun
and five hundred skulls, representing
and all localities, and then solve t
drums that are continually being tl
us by some of the members of this
It seems absurd that there shou
doubt about the classification of so
common an animal as the cinnamon
even. of the rarely-seen barren-gro
but the doubts are here, neverthele
stay until some courageous author
a "monograph," or technical treat
Ursid&, and give us a plain, common
tlement that will stick. This wouli
have been done long ago but for th
fact that bear-skins are expensive.
There are very few intelligent p
are not interested in bears and the
At the present hour one of th
products of the mountains of Pe
next to coal and iron, is bear stor
spite of the fact that something les
thousand have been published duri
four years, the new crop is still inter
now, however, a new storm-center
oped in the South, and we are
blood curdled regularly by the me
and awful shorthand reports of b
bats-always to the death, but wi

(Seventh pafer of the series, Quadrupeds of North America.")


charge for that-between bears and alligators.
If I could only find out when and where the
next combat is to take place, I would have a
front seat regardless of cost or mosquitos. I
suspect, however, it will come off in'the top
CK BEAR. story of some story-maker's house, where quiet
reigns, and ink is more plentiful and far less
oping that expensive than gore. But the wild-animal
list would story-teller occupies a family all by himself;
bring to- and while he alone is worthy of a chapter,-
dred skins which I may some time be tempted to offer,
Small forms -he has no claim to a place with our bears.
he conun- At the head of our list of American bears
rust upon comes the POLAR or WHITE BEAR, whose
family. POLAR BEAR Latin name means liter-
ld be any (Tha-lass-arctos mar-i-ti'-,as.) ally the bear of the icy
large and sea. He is big and burly,
n bear, or always hungry, and, thank goodness! always
und bear; of the same color. No fickle turncoat is he,
ss, and will like all other American bears, but wherever
shall write you find him he is always white and unmis-
se, on our takable. The strangest thing about him is that
n-sense set- he is as sublimely indifferent to the coldness of
d probably ice-water as is the hull of a ship. The grizzly
e annoying bear is fond of water,-when its temperature is
right,-but he would about as soon think of
persons who entering a lake of fire as an ice-filled stream
ir ways. in midwinter.
e principal The chosen home and hunting-ground of the
nnsylvania, Polar Bear is the edge of the icy sea, where the
ies, and in frost king and old ocean continually struggle
s than two for the mastery. He seldom wanders more
ng the last than twenty-five miles inland. In winter, as
sting. Just the edge of the frozen sea moves farther and
has devel- farther south, he follows its advance. In sum-
having our mer, as the ice-pack melts and breaks away he
)st thrilling follows it northward again for the sake of the
loody com- seals that go with it. He thinks no more of
thout extra plunging in and swimming two or three hours




amid the floating ice, with the temperature
at forty degrees below zero, than we would
of going to the post-office the day before
In the summer of 1881, Mr. E. W. Nelson,
then in the Signal Service on the "Corwin,"
shot a huge female Polar Bear that was over-
hauled by the steamer while swimming with
her mate in the open sea, near Herald Island,
northwest of Bering Strait. The male also was
killed, but the floating ice was so thick that he
was lost before a boat could reach him. "With
this female," says Mr. Nelson, was a yearling
cub, and when the pursuit became pressing, and
the cub began to tire, she swam behind it with
one of her fore paws on each side of its back,

off to us in the face of the sleet and wind. He
had probably smelled our smoke, and came off
to reconnoiter; but a warm reception changed
his mind, and he turned and vanished in the
fog again."
The favorite food of the Polar Bear is the
flesh of seals, sea-lions, walruses, fish, and dead
whales. Of all seal-hunters, he is the most suc-
cessful. Instead of being obliged to stalk his
game on the ice, in plain sight, he can hunt like
a crocodile. He takes to the water, swims slowly
up, with only his nostrils and eyes at the sur-
face, and before the seal, watching landward,
is aware of his danger, his clumsy body is fairly
within the hungry jaws of the "tiger of the
ice," as Dr. Kane called him.

thus shielding it from danger, and urging it But, strange as it may appear, the Polar
along. She continued to do this until wounded Bear does not live by flesh alone. In their
in various places and finally disabled. Alaskan travels, Mr. Henry W. Elliott and
While the Corwin lay at anchor off the ice Lieutenant Maynard once chanced to visit St.
during a heavy gale, a bear came swimming Matthew Island, a lonely bit of land in Be-



ring Sea, about half way between the strait
and the Aleutian Archipelago. There they
found between 250 and 300 Polar Bears, bask-
ing in the warm lap of summer, shedding their
winter coats, lazily eating and sleeping, and
growing fat on the roots of'the small flowering-
plants and mosses that abounded. As the ex-
plorers' boat approached the shore, a score
of bears were in sight at one time. The bears
literally possessed the island, grazing and
rooting about like hogs in a common." In
spite of their numbers they could not be in-
duced to fight, but always ran when ap-
proached, either in "a swift, shambling gallop,
or trotting off like elephants." They were fond
of sleeping in the sun on sheltered hillsides

"soundly, but fitfully," says Mr. Elliott, "roll-
ing their heavy arms and legs about as they
dozed." After shooting half a dozen specimens
in the tamest manner, the two explorers decided
to kill no more; for, by reason of shedding,
their furry coats were worthless. One that was
shot by Lieutenant Maynard measured exactly
eight feet in length of head and body together,
and its weight was estimated at between iooo
and 1200 pounds.
In former times, before the advent of the
breech-loader, the Polar Bear was bold, ag-
gressive, and dangerous to man. Many a
poorly-armed Eskimo has gone down forever
under his huge paws. But modem fire-arms
have changed all that. Now this once dreaded




creature runs from man as far as he can see
him, like a timid deer, and unless the hunter
can bring him to bay with dogs, or get him in
the water at a disadvantage, there is no such
thing as getting a shot at him.
The home of the Polar Bear on this conti-
nent is not very difficult to define. On the
Pacific side it begins at St. Matthew Island,
and the mouth of the Yukon River, let us
say 600 north latitude, and thence follows
the coast lines and the ice-pack northward
through Bering Strait, eastward wherever land
meets the waters of the Arctic Ocean and its
many connections. It extends through all the
straits, channels, and bays of the great frozen
archipelago, into Hudson's Bay as far down as
600, and down Labrador, I know not how far
at present. Thence they range northward along

THE BLACK BEAR is the most persistent of all
(Ur'sus A-mer-i-can'us) our large mammals in his
refusal to be exterminated.
Because of the facts that his senses are keen,
his temper suspicious and shy, and his appetite
not at all capricious, he hangs on in the heavily
wooded mountains, swamps, and densely tim-
bered regions of North America, generally long
after other kinds of big game have all been
killed or driven away.
As his name implies, he is jet black all over,
except his nose, and when his fur is in good
condition it is glossy and beautiful. His muz-
zle, from his eyes down to the edge of his
upper lip, is either dull yellow or dingy white,
and sometimes, particularly in Alaska, he has
a white spot on his breast. According to lo-
cality and climate, the hair of the Black Bear

both sides of Baffin's Bay and Davis Strait, may be short and close, as in the South, or
to General Greely's storm-beaten camps on long and inclined to shagginess, though not so
Cape Sabine and Lady Franklin Bay. And much so as the grizzly's. Very often his coat
still on northeastward they go, along the north will be abundantly thick and of good length,
Greenland coast to where Lieutenant Lockwood but so even on the outside and so compact
saw their tracks at 830 3', almost at his very that he looks as if he had been gone over by
farthest north, headed northeast and still a-go- the scissors and comb of a skilful barber. So
ing! And there we must leave him for the present. far as I have seen, neither the grizzly nor cin-


namon ever has that appearance. In the
North, where his furry coat is finest, it is now
eagerly sought by the furriers, and the stan-
dard price for a large skin of good quality is
twenty-five dollars. The ladies prize it for
muffs and collars, and the carpet warrior and
the bandmaster love to have it tower heaven-
ward from their warlike brows as a shako.
In size the Black Bear ranks third (among
American species) after the polar bear, the grim
old grizzly occupying second place. The cubs
are usually two in number, and at first are blind,
helpless, and almost shapeless. Two were born
.on February 7, 1894, in the Zoological Park at
Washington, concerning which Mr. A. B. Baker
soon after wrote me as follows:
One was accidentally injured by the mother
bear and died on the second day. It was of a
mouse-color, a little lighter underneath, the skin
,darker than the hair., The hair was fine, short,
and quite elastic, lying close to the body and
offering considerable resistance when rubbed the
wrong way. The little fellow was eight and
one-half inches long, including one-half inch of
tail, and weighed eight ounces. The other cub
now, at four weeks old, seems to be about twice as
large as when born, and is of a bright, glossy
black. It has, from the first, had a strong voice,
but it has not yet opened its eyes.

Although the cubs are at first so ridiculously
small and helpless, they grow rapidly after the
first month, get their eyes open in about forty
.days, and within a year are quite sturdy brates.
A Black Bear weighing 400 pounds may fairly
be considered a large one, but they often grow
far beyond that weight. In a very interesting
paper on this species in the Century for March,
1882, Mr. Charles C. Ward mentions a Black
Bear that he once saw which weighed 523
pounds, and measured six feet four inches from
nose to tail. Although I have often hunted in
Black Bear country, the largest specimen I ever
shot was unhappily a small one; but at the
leading hotel of Tacoma, State of Washington,
I saw in 1888 a live Black Bear.whose propor-
tions were truly enormous. He was as large
.as the largest grizzly I ever saw alive, and I es-
timated his weight at 750 pounds, which I am
sure was not over the mark. Notwithstanding
his enormous size, he was as playful as a puppy,

and almost as good-tempered, at least with the
hotel cook, who served his meals in a wash-
tub! It was a most comical sight to see him
skylarking with the cook to get possession of a
broom. When finally he captured it he went
through as many antics with .it as a monkey,
the drollest of which was when he held it in all
four of his paws, rolled his huge bulk over and
over, and finally ended by lying on his back,
and twirling the broom on the soles of his hind-
feet like a juggler, seldom letting it fall. It was
an odd sight to see such a huge animal so ac-
tive and playful.
It is easier to tell what a Black Bear does n't
eat than to give his bill of fare. His principle
seems to be--everything is food that can be
chewed! He is carnivorous, herbivorous, fru-
givorous, insectivorous, and omnivorous. If any
new "ivorous" is ever invented hereafter, be-
yond a doubt he will be that also. To him,
nothing is either too big or too little, too high
or too humble, to be eaten. For instance, he
loves beef, pork, mutton, and poultry of all
kinds, and sometimes makes havoc in an un-
protected barnyard that happens to be within
striking distance of his home ranch. He loves
dead fish that are cast upon the shore, and
live fish whenever he can catch them.
In the month of May, the Black Bears along
the east coast of Florida swim the Indian
River, which is nearly everywhere three miles
or more in width, and become industrious
beach-combers during June, July, and Au-
gust, while the green turtles and loggerhead
turtles are crawling up out of the ocean, and
laying their eggs in the warm sand along the
beach. Mrs. Latham, of Oak Lodge, once
knew a Black Bear to devour two hundred
turtle eggs at one sitting, from a nest that had
been counted and marked the evening before.
The Black Bear loves frogs also. He tears
to pieces every old decayed stump, log, or ant-
hill that he can find, and devours the ants, ants'
eggs, and grubs within with all the relish of a
professional ant-eater. He loves every berry
that grows, whether on bush, tree, or vine, and
likewise the sweet potatoes and apples raised
by the farmer. In his own forest he finds
plenty of edible roots that make excellent bear
meat, for which he roots like a hog.



But a bee-tree, oh, a bee-tree-with honey in
it! That is the candy and ice-cream of Bruin's
whole life. He will climb any height, and take
the thousand stings on his bare nose for the
sake of a good feed of honey fresh from the
/ ,,

Top and sole of fore paw.

Top and sole of hind paw.

tree. He is not particular about the quality
of it, or the shape of the comb, but reaches his
black arm into the cavity, rakes out the sweets
with his living rake, and devours them greedily,
comb, honey, young bees, larvae and all. And
woe to the queen herself if she ever gets within
range of his sweet tooth,- everything goes!
Bruin is the only fellow living who will deliber-
ately rifle a wasp's nest for what there is in it.
He may be stung on his nose and lips until he
howls with pain, but he considers honey a good
salve for stings, and keeps right on.
One of the most curious things about the
Black Bear (and the grizzly and cinnamon also)
is the way he goes into snug winter quarters
when winter has fairly set in, and lies dormant
in his den without either eating or drinking

until the next spring. This is called hibernation;
and during this period the ordinary processes
of digestion seem to be entirely suspended. In
our semi-tropics bears do not hibernate, but
Nature undoubtedly planted this instinct in the
brain of the bear of the North to enable him to
survive the severe winter period when the snows
lie deep, and all food is so scarce that other-
wise he would be in danger of starvation. This
period of hibernation is from about the middle
of December to the middle of March. It has
been stated that if bears have plenty of food
they will not hibernate, even in the North, but
this is a mistake. I know of at least two in-
stances wherein bears in captivity have "holed
up" in December and remained dormant until
March, in spite of all temptations of offered
food. The natural instinct was so strong that
it refused to be overcome by appetite alone.
There is another very curious thing about
the hibernation of the Black Bear. His den is
usually a hole dug under the roots of either a
standing tree or an uprooted tree, but it may
be in a hollow tree, a hollow log, or more fre-
quently, a miniature cave in a rocky hillside.
Sometimes he makes a bed of leaves and moss
for himself, but often he does not. In holing
up" under the roots of a tree he is frequently
completely snowed in, and under such a con-
dition, the warmth of his breath keeps the
snow melted immediately around him. This
moisture freezes on the inside of his den, and
presently he is incased in a dome of snow,
lined with ice, the hard lining of which ever
grows thicker from the frozen moisture of his
breath. As a result, he often wakes early in
March to find himself a prisoner in a hollow
dome of snow and ice, from which he cannot
escape for days, and where he is often found
self-trapped, and shot without the privilege of
even striking a blow at his assailants. And
there is where Nature serves poor Bruin a
mean trick. I have never seen a bear in such
an ice cage of his own building, but Dr. Mer-
riam has, in the Adirondacks, and this informa-
tion is borrowed from him.
The Black Bear has courage, but it never
comes to the surface until he is cornered by
dogs and hunters, and knows he must fight
or die. It is very difficult to kill a Black


Bear by unaided tracking and still-hunting, for
he is so wide awake and wary he is hard to
overtake. The beat-hunter usually pursues
him with the aid of a pack of full-blood curs,
small in size, but artful dodgers, who run down
the bear and snap at his heels until he is
obliged to stand
at bay and fight
them. A wise
bear-dog never
attempts to seize
a bear, for his
game is to harry
Bruin and give
tongue until his
master comes up
with his gun.
Bear-hunting in
this manner is
even yet the
greatest sport to
be found in the
mountains of
West Virginia.
ger is there to the
pound in a wild
Black Bear when
you meet him in .-
his haunts, acci- '
dentally and at
close quarters ?
Mrs. C. F. Latham,
wife of mine host BLACK BEARS S
at Oak Lodge, on the Indian River peninsula
(Brevard Co., Florida) can tell you exactly.
There is a cleared trail leading from this same
lodge-in-a-vast-wilderness to the beach, half a
mile away. It runs through a dense and fear-
fully tangled jungle of cabbage palmetto, live-
oak, and saw palmetto which forms a living
wall on each side of the trail.
About twelve months ago, Mrs. Latham was
returning from the beach alone, and armed
only with an umbrella. When just a quarter
of a mile from this very porch, she heard the
rustling of some animal coming toward her
through the saw palmettos. Thinking it must
be a racoon, she quickly picked up a chunk of
palmetto wood, and held it ready to whack

Mr. Coon over the head the instant he emerged,
All at once, with a mighty rustling, out stepped
a big Black Bear within six feet of her! The
surprise was mutual and profound. Naturally
Mrs. Latham was scared, but not out of her
wits, and she decided that to. run would be to
invite pursuit and
possibly attack.
She stood her
ground and said
nothing, and the
bear rose on his
hind legs to get
a better look at
her, making two
or three feints in
her direction with
his paws. Feel-
ing that she must
do something, Mrs.
Latham pointed
her umbrella at
the bear, and
quickly opened
and closed it two
or three times.
Woof!" said
the bear. Turning
about he plunged
into the palmet-
tos and went
crashing away,
while the lady
CKING A CAMP. ran homeward as
fast as she could go. So much for the "savage
and aggressive disposition of the Black Bear.
Bears are much inclined to mischief. Many
a lumberman in the backwoods has returned
to his cabin to find it completely sacked, and
everything eatable eaten or destroyed by bears.
It is said that no animal makes so complete a
wreck of a camp as a bear, except a wolverine;
but having once had even my hut itself torn
down and trodden upon by wild elephants, I
will back Elepkas Indicus against both the other
fellows taken together as camp-smashers.
I was about to state what I know of the geo-
graphical range of the Black Bear, but, an Idea
came to me, and you will find- it in the Letter-
Box this month.





FTTIMES the cun-
ning Brownie
To visit South-
i ern States
had planned,
S a But something else
.' .~ attention drew
And pushed their
project out of view.
At length a brief discussion rose
That brought the matter to a close.
Says one: No patriot should shun
The land that gave a Washington,
Who for this nation of our own
Laid such a good foundation-stone,
That will be last to roll away
When worlds shall crumble in decay;
And Jackson, who from cotton-bales
Made his opponent spread his sails,
And to some safer quarter tack;
And then 'Old Rough and Ready' Zach,
Who nearly fifty years ago

Made stirring times in Mexico."
These words, that touched each Brownie's
Soon brought about an early start.
For Florida the band set out

With nimble feet and courage stout,
And skirted many a cape and bay,
And headland, on their southern way.
They visited St. Augustine,
To feast their eyes on many a scene

VOL. XXI.-99. 785


That left impressions on
the mind
Of the observing Brownie
Old forts that once were
And kept the howling foe
When it was much to have
a gate
Between one and a fea-
thered pate,
Were talked about, and
stories told

Of wars,
j- until the theme
grew old.
It gave them sport to run around
And climb the trees that there they found,
And swing on vines that stretched between
The mossy trunks like hammocks green.
Sometimes a dozen in a row
Would thus be swaying to and fro,
Until a break the swing would end
And to the ground they 'd all descend.

But what care Brownies for a fall?
To reach another vine they 'd crawl,
And soon be sweeping through the air
Upon some breakneck, frail affair.
Oh, happy Brownies, who can spring
From trouble as with golden wing,
And from their minds forever cast
All thoughts of pain or trials passed!
Where shall a mortal turn his face
To bring in view another race
So full of hope, by nothing bowed,
And with good nature so endowed?
Then up the St. John's River wide,
Of Ponce de Leon's state the pride,
The daring Brownies took their course
To trace it fully to its source.
At times they paused, and well they might,
As some bright landscape
came in sight,
That cannot but awake
In those who have admir-
ing eyes.
Said one: "We Brownies, as
you see,
Are gifted in a high \.Vk\
degree, )Y 6



For Nature never knew a band
Or race, or tribe, in any land,
From Sitka Sound to Singapore,
That could appreciate her more.
A scene that dull and dark might fall
On some, perhaps, who coldly crawl

4iM P I7 ) 1`

Along through life without a thrill,
With rapture will a Brownie fill.
Each stream and grove attracts the eye,
The flowering vales and sunny sky;
And not alone of these we speak,
We note the charm of beauty's cheek,
We mark the eyes that have the art
To soon enslave the fluttering heart,
And lips to which the memory clings
Through every change that fortune
brings." .
Once, while in boats they worked their
Around a bend to reach a bay,
Near by an alligator great
Was resting in a dreamy state.
Said one: "I 'm weary of the oar,
We '11 venture nigher to the shore
A rope around that creature throw
And make him take our boat in tow;
Through mystic power we '11 keep him
Obedient to the Brownies' will,
And thus more time we can command
To view the scenes
around so grand."

Soon Brownie oars were
laid aside,
And poles by which
they'd stemmed
the tide,
And up the stream with
wondrous speed
The alligator took the

The lengthy rope between was taut
As with the current still he fought,
While changed in disposition well
Beneath the Brownies' mystic spell,
He furnished more than one a seat
Who thought the ride no common treat.
In fact, so much they liked the joke,
Each alligator they awoke
Was soon subdued through Brownie art
And in their service played his part,
Delighting much the group that found
Upon his back a camping-ground.
For fear the charm might lose its hold
That for a time the beasts controlled,
And they might think they had some cause
Without reserve to use their jaws,
The Brownies with precaution good
Secured the mouth as best they could;


'''~~-~-ifl: ~~ ~~~ln~'n ;1Y~~ul/k~n,. I
Iv $-~t;-


So, should the spell slip from them all,
No harm would to the Brownies fall,
Except what trouble they might find
If one saw fit to change its mind,
Quit surface-swimming, and instead,
Try crawling on the river's bed.

Perhaps we 'd be as free and quick
To take advantage of the trick.
At times you might have seen a scare
If you had been in hiding there,
And had the gift to see them right
That only comes with second sight;



- -;--jZ C-


Had we, like them, the power to bind For sometimes in that jot
The jaws of creatures found unkind, In spite of charms things
Could we, through mystic spells, reclaim And Brownies would be i
What proved unfriendly or untame, The swimmer's art till hel

rney long
would go wrong,
forced to try
lp drew nigh.




The State is. full of wonders strange
That tempted Brownies still to range.
Through dismal swamp and everglade
Without a guide they onward strayed;

In places where no mortal cares
To set his foot, a Brownie dares
To travel freely in delight,
And study Nature's face aright.



Six little marks from school are we,
Very important, all agree,
Filled to the brim with mystery,
Six little marks from school.

One little mark is round and small,
But where it stands the.voice must fall,
At the close of a sentence, all '
Place this little mark from school: I*

One little mark, with gown a-trailing,
Holds up the voice, and, never failing,
Tells you not long to pause
when hailing
This little mark from school:

If out of breath you chance to meet,
Two little dots, both round and neat,
Pause, and these tiny guardsmen
greet- -
These little marks from school:

w w w 1 ~1.

When shorter pauses are your pleasure,
One trails'his sword-takes half the measure,
Then speeds you on to seek new
This little mark from school: *

One little mark, ear-shaped, implies,
"'Keep up the voice,-await replies";
To gather information tries
This little mark from school: *

One little mark, with an exclamation,
Presents itself to your observation,
And leaves the voice at an
elevation, r
This little mark from school:

Six little marks! Be sure to heed us;
Carefully study, write, and read us;
For you can never cease to need us,
Six little marks from school!


-, is{en n'd urear s}ie +1emofhierwol bu,

~ift~CosuirbeUm. rii cheris+ne3-n-Sie].
%~~~~~~y'e 'oi~ is s cIi ut y u -o r
isea ti Ih erans +b- No,-t ,n wbifewngs
-C hat you. putye ft1 frme
V~a rai-O you Paye-d f bom

Roses mria lilies slhohi snhcew A-lY Way:
ie .Sun-9o0Thels )lowi Is smileb
SC twu1)M a Japarnese mof.er -woI a say
Z o a Ii+ 4lejapanest chl.



WHEN I was a boy in New York, as many
of us youngsters walked in front of a proces-
sion as there were soldiers in it. The platoon
of mounted police which now clears the street
for blocks ahead, was then-and it was not so
many years ago, either-unknown; for there
was no mounted police. Those were the days
before a State uniform was required, and each
regiment wore a uniform of its own. The fa-
mous Seventh were attired like chasseurs; there
were zouaves, and a whole regiment of cavalry,
and separate corps, like the Gardes Lafayette,
who wore blue coats and red trousers, and
were preceded by sappers with gleaming axes,
bearskin caps, and long white aprons-not to
mention two German regiments whose uniforms
were not unlike those of the Prussian service.
They made a motley procession, but not
more motley than the vanguard of boys, the
tallest among us marching in the lead and
swinging one of his father's sticks like a drum-
major. To us the real drum-major seemed lit-
tle more than an ornament and a harlequin, a
soldier-acrobat who would have been as much
in place in a circus as at the head of a regi-
ment. The drum-majors were fine-looking fel-
lows then, as now; tall and shapely, their
natural height increased by their great bear-
skin caps, so that they all seemed sprung from
a race of giants. Whenever the drum-corps
had been playing for some time, we would look
back impatient for the drum-major's signal to
the band. How it thrilled us to see his stick
flourish in the air; and when, as he brought it
down, the band broke in uponi the drums with
a crashing chord, our forms straightened up
and our steps became more buoyant! In those
days I thought the duties of the drum-major
were limited to squelching alternately the drum-
corps and the band, and between times looking
as large and handsome as possible. But, while
the drum-major cannot, under any circum-

stances, be said to have been born to blush
unseen, he performs many duties of which the
looker-on at a street-parade knows nothing.
It requires a visit to a State camp or a United
States Army post to learn what the tall man in
the bearskin hat has to do. .For there he is
busy even when he is n't on show.
The drum-major is to the band what the
first sergeant is to a company. He drills the
musicians in marching, sees that they are rightly
equipped, that the brasses are bright and the
music in order. The band, of course, practises
under the band-leader, but the drum-major has
full charge of the field music-the trumpeters
and the drum-and-fife corps. In fact, the
drum-major derives his name from the fact
that he was formerly the chief drummer of the
regiment. He has been an ornament of the
British army since the reign of Charles II., and
has long flourished in the continental services."
He is tambour-major in the French army, and
he went by the same name in the German
service until the gradual giving up of French
terms after the Franco-German war converted
him into the Regiments-trommler,- the regi-
mental drummer,- a term which well expresses
the original duties of the office, but lacks the
swing of "drum-major." and "tambour-major."
And what is a drum-major without swing ?
At "parade," at an army post, or State camp,
the drum-major leads the band and field music
to the front, and brings it to a halt facing the
color-line. At the approach of the adjutant he
gives the command, Open ranks," and, when
the arms have been inspected, "Close ranks."
He then marches the band back to its place on
the color-line.
The drum-major's uniform is usually the gay-
est in the regiment. A striking bit of color, and
aiguillettes,* combine with the bearskin hat to
make him one of the most picturesque features
of a parade, especially if he has been selected

* The tagged points or braid hanging from the shoulder in some military uniforms.


for his height and his soldierly bearing. Drum-
major Ludwig Jorgensen, of the battalion of
engineers at Willet's Point, is among the most
striking-looking drum-majors in the regular
army. With his bearskin hat he stands seven
feet eight inches, or within four inches of eight
feet. He carries a heavy staff about four and a
half feet long, with a large head and long ferule.
This staff is considerably longer than the usual
short bamboo loaded in the center, and hence
is better adapted for signaling commands to the
band and field music, though the shorter stick
is easier to twirl. A clever trick with these
short sticks is for two drum-majors to stand
some distance apart, twirl their sticks in front
of them, and then let go, each drum-major
catching the other's stick and returning it to
him in the same way.
The drum-major's uniform is so gorgeous be-
cause his imagination is not fettered by the
United States Army regulations, he being al-
lowed to wear any uniform which his colonel
considers appropriate. He will usually have
three or four uniforms, changing them accord-
ing to his fancy. You see he is the artist of the
regiment, and so is allowed some freedom in
dress. The drum-major ranks as a sergeant, but
no regular sergeant in the United States Army
could get himself up as Drum-major Jorgensen
does, with a red breast-piece of Prussian Uhlan
(Lancer) pattern, a broad gold and white band,
gold epaulets, and aiguillettes, to say nothing of
the towering bearskin hat.
Like poets, drum-majors are born, not made.
One man may become a drum-major in a
week, while you can't make one of another in
a lifetime. Without the knack of handling
the stick he will never be an artist, and will,
probably at the very moment when he should
look his jauntiest, commit the crime, unpar-
donable in a drum-major, of dropping his left
hand to his side. For the left hand should al-
ways, except in two-handed movements with
the staff, rest, knuckles up, on the hip. Thus
the drum-major's pose, when not marching or
giving a command, is to stand with his left
hand on his hip, his right hand grasping his
stick just below the head, the point of the stick
resting on the ground. He presents a fine, im-
posing figure as he stands there, erect and tall,

two paces in front of the band. Now comes
the moment, so glorious to the small boy,
when the commands Play and Forward-
March" are to be given. Facing the band the
drum-major, with a quick turn of the wrist,
points the ferule upward, letting it slant a lit-
tle to the right. Then, raising his staff to the
height of his chin, he thrusts it the full length
of his arm to the right, and draws it back
again. This is the signal to play. Then,
turning, he points the staff to.the front, thrusts
it the full length of his arm forward, and music
and march begin. In the old days the drum-
major then brought the "cane," as the staff
was called in the tactics, to the position of
"carry sword." Now the drum-major beats
time, setting the "cadence"-the number of
steps to a minute-of the march. As a rule
he simply repeats again and again the thrust
and recover, through which he gives the com-
mand to play. Expert drum-majors, however,
introduce some fancy movement here. Jor-
gensen, for instance, has a pretty way of de-
scribing a circle from the front to the back of
his right shoulder, grasping the staff in the
middle and twirling it so that the head points
downward at the moment the left foot is to
advance. In unskilful hands this movement is
apt to end in disaster, the ferule striking the
drum-major's back or nose-which puts the
nose out of joint and the band out of time.
It is important that the drum-major should
mrk the cadence correctly, as otherwise, not
only his own, but all other regiments following,
will march too slowly or too rapidly. The
regular cadence is 120 steps to the minute; but
in Memorial Day parades, when there are many
veterans in the procession, the drum-majors
quietly reduce it to ninety. Another clever
trick of the drum-major is to seize the ferule
between the fore and middle fingers, swing a
full circle with it four or five times, and let go,
giving it a slight twist as it leaves his fingers.
The drum-major who gets the knack of the
twist and knows enough to allow for the num-
ber of steps he will advance, can make his staff
circle high up in front of him and sail down
into his hand again.
When the band is to execute an oblique
movement, the drum-major holds his staff in a



horizontal position at the height of his neck,
and pointing the ferule in the direction of the
oblique, extends his arm to its full length. The
prettiest evolution of the band is the counter-
march. The drum-major "faces the music"
and gives the signal to march, but instead of
turning remains standing with his face toward
the band. The band marches upon the drum-


major, but on reaching him the file leaders to
the right of him wheel to the right, those on the
left to the left, the drum-major marching down
through the center. To signal for halt the tall
man in the bearskin cap raises the staff with
both hands in a horizontal position above his
head, and with arms extended drops it to a
horizontal position at the height of his hips.
With the staff he also indicates to the field mu-
sic what signal it is to play, and puts the drum-
corps through the manual: for instance, "Put
up the drum-sticks,"-" Detach the drums,"-
"Ground the drums."
The drum-major and the musicians are not

fighting men. In battle they aid the ambulance
corps. It would be queer tactics to use smoke-
less powder to prevent the foe from detecting
your position, and then have the band tooting
away on your line of battle!
The armies of the world are becoming less
and less ornamental. The uniforms are plainer
than formerly, so that the soldier may not be

" Forward." Halt"

an easier target for the enemy, and in other
ways the actual needs of the service have
overcome the mere notions of the parade-
ground. But the drum-major remains. He
has his special role. He gives a theatrical
touch to a review which otherwise it would
lack, and, lacking, sadly miss. He is the last of
all the old-time "fancy touches," and may his
days still be long! Like the conductor of an
orchestra, he sets the pace. A regiment with a
jaunty drum-major will never lack buoyancy
and snap.
And so, though a non-combatant, the drum-
major is the bravest-looking of all.

VOL. XXI.- 100.


.f' 2:7'





IN City Hall Park, New York city, stands
the bronze statue of a young man, the story
of whose brief life thrills all patriotic hearts.
The statue represents him pinioned, awaiting
the gallows, as he uttered his last words.
Americans unite in admiration of his noble
character, pride in his self-forgetful heroism,
and grief over his untimely death. Every boy
and girl in America should know by heart the
life of Captain Nathan Hale. It is a story
which every son and daughter of the great
Republic should enshrine in their memories.
In the darkest hour of our country's struggle
for liberty, this self-devoted hero-inspired
with fervid patriotism and eager to render ser-
vice to his country-laid down his young life,
a sacrifice to the cause of American liberty.

The days and weeks that followed that mem-
orable Fourth of July in 1776 were dark indeed
for the struggling colonists.
Determined to crush with one effort the
insurrection in her American colonies, Great
Britain sent that summer a larger force than
any which had before landed upon our shores.
You know the story of the disastrous battle
upon Long Island-where the few thousand
ill-clothed, undisciplined provincial troops faced
a splendidly equipped army, many regiments of
which were veterans. The raw American troops,
despite their courage and heroism, were no
match for the trained and skilled soldiery of
Great Britain; and even General Washington,
undemonstrative and reserved as he was, is
said to have wrung his hands in anguish .upon

.4.-~t .-


seeing his troops defeated and driven back, he
being powerless to aid them.
During the night of August 29, 1776, Wash-
ington escaped with the remainder of his little
army across the East River.
The troops were so greatly depressed by
their defeat, and were in so alarming a state of
gloom and despondency, that men deserted by
the score.
Washington sorely needed information of the
strength and probable movements of the pow-
erful enemy. He deemed it necessary that
some skilled soldier should go, as a spy, within
the British lines, and procure for him the
knowledge so much desired, that he might be
"warned in ample time."'
He wrote to General Heath that "everything
depended upon obtaining intelligence of the
enemy's motions," and he entreated him and
General Clinton to "leave no stone unturned"
to secure information.
The commander-in-chief's desire became gen-
erally known among his officers, but so perilous
was the service that for a time no one offered
to undertake it.
Captain Nathan Hale, a brilliant young of-
ficer belonging to "Knowlton's Rangers,"
calmly decided it was his duty to undertake
the enterprise upon which the fate of the de-
jected little army seemed to depend. His
friends sought in vain to dissuade him from
his purpose. "I desire to be useful," was his
reply; his only thought seemed to be to serve
his country.
His fellow-officer and college friend, Captain
William Hull, entreated him as a soldier not to
run the risk of ending his military career by risk-
ing the ignominious death of a spy. Hale's reply
to his friend's argument was that Every kind
of service necessary to the public good becomes
honorable by being necessary."
The young officer presented himself to Gen-
eral Washington as a volunteer for the dan-
gerous service, was accepted, received his
instructions, and disappeared from camp.
He passed up the Connecticut shore, dis-
guised himself as a schoolmaster, and landed
upon Long Island. He visited all the British
camps upon Long Island and in New York,
and made drawings of the fortifications, writing

his observations in Latin, and hiding them be-
tween the soles of his shoes.
He had been about two weeks within the
British lines, had accomplished his purpose, and
was waiting upon the shore at Huntington,
Long Island, for a boat that was to convey him
to Connecticut, when he was captured hav-
ing been recognized a few hours previous by a
Tory refugee. He was taken aboard a British
man-of-war, and carried to Sir William Howe's
headquarters in New York city. Here he was
condemned to be executed at sunrise on the
following morning.
In what prison or guard-house the noble-
souled young patriot spent that last sad night
of his life is not known; but of the brutality
with which he was treated by the provost
marshal into whose hands he was given over,
there is abundant proof. His request for the
attendance of a clergyman was, refused. Even
a Bible was denied him.
SDuring the preparations for the execution, an
English officer obtained permission to offer the
prisoner the seclusion of his tent, where writing
materials were furnished.
But the farewell letters he wrote to his mo-
ther, to his sweetheart, and to a comrade in
the army, were torn to shreds before his eyes
by the cruel provost marshal.
It was early dawn on Sunday morning, Sep-
tember 22, 1776, that our young hero was hur-
ried away from the tent of the English officer
to the gallows. The spot selected was the
orchard of Colonel Henry Rutgers, on East
Broadway, not far above what is now Frank-
lin Square.
A crowd had gathered, many of whom after-
ward bore witness to the noble bearing of the
young hero, and to the barbarity with which
he was treated by the provost marshal. This
official said: "The rebels shall never know
they have a man who can die with such
As Hale was about to ascend the fatal
scaffold, he stood a moment looking upon the
detachment of British soldiers, and the crowd
standing about; and the words that came from
his loyal young heart in that supreme moment
will never die: I only regret that I have but
one life to lose for my country."



It is not known in what spot his body was bri1
laid, but the bones of the young patriot crum- I
bled to dust in the heart of the great metrop- and
olis of the republic he helped to found. large
So long as love of country is cherished, and sou
devotion to the cause of liberty is remembered, coll
so long will the name of Nathan Hale shine acc
with pure and undimmed luster. I
The birthplace of our hero is in the town of the
Coventry, twenty miles east of Hartford in the con
State of Connecticut. Upon high ground, cor- ing,
manding a fine prospect, stands the large, old- the
fashioned farm-house where he was born. He beii
was the sixth of twelve children: nine sons and En
three daughters. So delicate was he as an in- fou:
fant, it was feared he would not live; but when wer
he became a lad, exercise in outdoor sports, of I
which he was very fond, gave strength and of
vigor to his body. mo:
As a boy he was famous for his athletic feats. and
It is said he excelled all his fellows in running, ma:

leaping, wrestling, playing ball,
and shooting at a mark. When
a student at Yale College he
made a prodigious leap which
was marked upon the Green
in New Haven, and often
|1 pointed out long afterward.
Colonel Green, of New Lon-
don, who knew him later when
he was a schoolmaster in that
town, speaking of Hale's agility
says: He would put his hand
S on a fence as high as his head
and clear it at a single bound;
he would jump from the bot-
S tom of one empty hogshead
over and down into a second,
and from the bottom of the
1,!. second over and down into a
Third, and from the third over
and out like a cat."
He "loved the gun and
fishing-rod, and exhibited great
ingenuity in fashioning juvenile
implements of every sort." He
used jokingly to boast to his
sisters over their spinning-
wheels, that he "could do
anything but spin!" His
ght mind was quick to apply what he learned.
n those days high schools were unknown,
Classical academies were confined to the
;e towns; so boys of the smaller towns who
ght for a liberal education were prepared for
ege by the ministers, many of whom were
omplished scholars.
Doctor Joseph Huntington, the minister of
parish in which young Hale was born, was
sidered in the churches a pattern of learn-
," and from him Nathan Hale and two bro-
rs received their preparation for college -
ng intended by their father for the ministry.
och at sixteen years of age, and Nathan at
rteen, entered Yale College together, and
e graduated in 1773.
Doctor Eneas Munson, of New Haven, says
Nathan Hale at this time: He was al-
st six feet in height, perfectly proportioned,
Sin figure and deportment he was the most
nly man I have ever met. His chest was




broad; his muscles were firm; his face wore a
most benign expression; his complexion was
roseate; his eyes were light blue, and beamed
with intelligence; his hair was soft and light
brown in color; and his speech was rather low,
sweet and musical. His personal beauty and
grace of manner were most charming .
At his graduation he took part in a Latin dis-
pute followed by a debate upon the question,
"Whether the education of daughters be not,
without any just reason, more neglected than

which the young schoolmaster made a stirring
speech. Let us march immediately," said he,
"and never lay down our arms until we have
obtained our independence."
The young teacher gathered his school-boys
together, and, after giving them wise counsel,
bade them an affectionate good-by, and hurried
away with the other recruits to Boston.
He was soon made lieutenant in a company
belonging to a regiment commanded by Col-
onel Webb, and the next year he was put in


that of the sons." A classmate wrote of this
debate: Hale was triumphant. He was the
champion of the daughters, and most nobly
advocated their cause."
The year after his graduation from college,
he taught school in the town of East Haddam.
When the news of the fight at Lexington
rang through the colonies, Nathan Hale was
master of the Union Grammar School in New
London. A town meeting was at once called, at

command of a company of a
Knowlton's Rangers, known

famous corps--
as Congress's

One of the last letters written by Captain
Hale before starting upon his perilous mission
was to his brother Enoch. These brothers
were very deeply attached to each other, and
the grief of the young minister Enoch for his
brother's tragic fate was most profound. It
will bring the young hero nearer to children of


to-day, to remember that Enoch's son, Nathan,
was the father of the distinguished author
of our own time, Edward Everett Hale, and
of Lucretia P. Hale, especially well known
to ST. NICHOLAS readers and to many other
young people as the author of the "Peterkin
When Captain Hale departed on his fatal
errand, he left his uniform and camp accoutre-
ments in the care of Asher Wright, a townsman
who acted in the capacity of a servant to the

memory of the Martyr Spy of the American
President Timothy Dwight of Yale College,
grandfather of the present President of the
University, was Nathan Hale's college tutor.
He commemorated Hale's career in a poem
highly praising the character and qualities of
his former student.
Four years after the execution of Captain
Hale, Major Andr6 was captured within the
American lines; it was Major Benjamin Tall-


-a iFTtstp
*4h. 4 -a~^~


young officer. Some years after his discharge
from the service, Asher Wright returned to his
old home in Coventry, bearing the precious
relics: the camp basket, the camp book, and
the tenderly-cared-for uniform of the beloved
young officer. He lived to extreme old age,
but to his latest day he could not speak with-
out tears of his young master. His grave is in
the burial-ground at South Coventry, within a
few feet of those of the Hale family, and near
the granite monument erected in 1846 to the

madge, a college classmate and dear friend of
Nathan Hale's, who conducted Andr6 to Wash-
ington's headquarters; and on their way thither
Andre talked of Hale and of his fate.
Lafayette, in his memoirs, speaking of these
two young officers, says:

Captain Hale of Connecticut, a distinguished young
man, beloved by his family and friends, had been taken
on Long Island under circumstances of the same kind
as those that occasioned the death of Major Andre; but
instead of being treated with the like respect, to which





Major Andrd himself bore testimony, Captain Hale was
insulted to the last moment of his life. "This is a fine
death for a soldier!" said one of the English officers,
who were surrounding the cart of execution. "Sir," re-
plied Hale, lifting up his cap, "there is no death which
would not be rendered noble in such a glorious cause! "

A fine bronze monument to the memory of
Nathan Hale is in the vestibule of the State
Capitol, Hartford, Connecticut. It was erected
in 1887, a large sum of money being voted to-
ward its cost by the State of Connecticut.. It
bears the inscription:

June 6, 1755,
Sept. 22, 1776.
"I only regret that I have hut one life to lose for my country."

But it is most fitting that the latest monu-
ment to his memory should stand in the city
of New York near the spot where he suffered
death for his country.


" .* .,,



'.'' :




~-~. i~l.SL~.7~$~



[Begun in the April number.]
MARLBOROUGH was Colonel Birchall Parker's
home. It was, in its day, perhaps the finest
house in Virginia, not even excepting the Gov-
ernor's palace at Williamsburg. It stood upon
the summit of a slope of the shore rising up
from the banks of the James River. The trees
in front nearly hid the house from the river as
you passed, but the chimneys and the roof
stood up above the foliage, and you caught a
glimpse of the brick facade and of the elaborate
doorway through an opening in the trees where
the path led up from the landing-place to the
hall door. The main house was a large two-
storied building capped by a tall steep roof.
From the center building, long wings reached
out to either side, terminating at each end in
a smaller building or office standing at right
angles to its wing, and, together with the main
house, inclosing on three sides a rather shaggy,
grassy lawn. From the front you saw nothing
of the servants' quarters or outbuildings (which
were around at the rear of the house), but only
the imposing facade with its wings and offices.
Colonel Birchall Parker had arisen, and his
servant was shaving him. He sat by the open
window in his dressing-gown and slippers. His
wig, a -voluminous mass of curled hair, hung
from the block, ready for him to wear. The
sunlight and the warm, mellow breeze came in
at the window, just stirring the linen curtains
drawn back to either side.
Colonel Parker held the basin under his chin
while the man shaved him. He had a l.rg,-
benevolent face, the smooth double chin just
now covered with a white mass of soapsuds.
The noises of newly awakened life were
sounding clear and distinct through the un-
carpeted, wainscoted spaces of the house -
Vo'. XXI.-1-I. 8c

the opening and shutting of doors, the sound of
voices, and now and then a break of laughter.
The great hall, and the side rooms opening
upon it, when Colonel Parker came down-stairs,
were full of that singularly wide, cool, new look
that the beginning of the morning always brings
to accustomed scenes. Mr. Richard Parker,
who had been down from his room some time,
was standing outside upon the steps in the fresh
open air. He turned as Colonel Parker came
out of the doorway. "Well, brother Richard,"
said Colonel Parker, I am glad to see you; I
hope you are well? "
Thank you, sir," said the other, bowing, but
without any change in the immobility of his
expression. I am, I believe, very well indeed.
I hope you are in good health, sir ? "
"Why, yes," said Colonel Parker; I believe
I have naught to complain of now." He came
out further upon the steps and stood with his
hands clasped behind him, looking now up
into the sky, now down the vista between the
trees and across the river.
There was a pause. "Have you any one
staying with you now ?" asked Mr. Richard
Parker, presently.
"Nobody but Rodney Harrison and his
sisters, and Mr. William Edwards, who stopped
last night on his way down the river. I think
I hear the young people now."
There was a sound of fresh young voices
echoing through the upper hall; then the noise
of laughter, and presently the sound of rapid feet
running down the uncarpeted stairway. Eleanor
Pnrker burst out of the house in a gale, caught her
i fa ti i by the coat, and standing on her tip-toes,
kised: both of his cheeks in rapid succession.
Two young girls and a young fellow of six-
teeik or seventeen followed her out of the house.
My dear," said Colonel Parker, do you
not, then, see your uncle ? "
"Why, to be sure I do," said she; "but how


could you expect me to see anybody until I had
first kissed you? How do you do, Uncle
Richard? and she offered him her cheek to
Mr. Richard Parker smiled, but, as he always
*did, as though with an effort. "Why, zounds,
Nell! said he. Sure, you grow prettier every
day. How long do you suppose 't will be be-
fore you set all the gentlemen in the colony by
the ears ? If I were only as young as Rodney,
yonder, I 'd be almost sorry to be your uncle,
except I would then not have the right to kiss
your cheek as I have just done."
Rodney Harrison smiled constrainedly, and
the young girl blushed and laughed, with a flash
of her eyes and a sparkle of white teeth be-
tween her red lips. "Why, Uncle Richard,"
said she, "and in that case, if you were as
handsome a man as you are now, I too would
be sorry to have you for nothing better than an
At this moment the other visitor came out at
the doorway. Good morning, sir," said Colo-
nel Parker, turning calmly to meet him; "I
hope you slept well last night."
"Thank you, sir; I did," said Mr. Edwards.
"One is apt to sleep well after a forty-mile ride.
How d' ye do, Parker?"
"How do ye do, Edwards ?" said Mr. Parker,
and his face had once more resumed its look
of cold indifference.
Just then a negro appeared at the door and
announced that breakfast was ready. And they
all went in together.
They had hardly begun their meal when the
door opened and Mistress Parker, or Madam
Parker, as she was generally called, entered the
room, followed by her negro maid carrying a
cushion. The three younger gentlemen rose
to greet her.
Lady Parker was a 1hin little woman, very
nervous and quick in her movements. She
had a fine, sensitive face, and, like her daugh-
ter, very dark eyes, only they were quick and
brilliant, and not soft and rich like those of the
young girl.
The morning was very warm, and so, after
breakfast was over, the negroes were ordered
to carry chairs out upon the lawn, under the
shade of the trees, at some little distance from

the house. The wide, red, brick front of the
building looked down upon them where they
sat, the elder gentlemen smoking each a long
clay pipe of tobacco, while Mistress Parker sat
with them talking intermittently. The young
people sat at a little distance chatting together
ceaselessly in subdued voices with now and
then a half-suppressed break of laughter.
"I hear, brother Richard," said Colonel
Parker, "that Simms hath brought up a lot of
servants from Yorktown."
"Yes," said Mr. Parker, there were about
twenty altogether, I believe. And that brings
a matter into my mind. There was one young
fellow I should like very much to have if you
can spare him to me-a boy of about sixteen
or seventeen. I have no house-servant since
Tim died, and so if you have a mind to part
with this lad, sir, I 'd like mightily well to have
"Why, brother Richard," said Colonel Parker,
"if Simms hath no use for the boy, I see no rea-
son why you should not have him. What hath
Simms done with him?"
"He is with the other servants over at the
old storehouse. I believe, sir, Simms had them
sent there last night. May I send for the lad,
that you may see him ?"
"Why, yes, if you choose," said Colonel
Mr. Richard Parker beckoned to a negro
who was passing along the lawn in front of the
house. "Go ask Simms," he said, "if he will
send over that young boy I spoke to himl of

Jack, as he followed the negro through the
warm, bright sunlight, gazed about him-
,though half bewildered with the newness of
everything-with an intense and vivid interest.
He had seen -really nothing of Marlborough
when lie had been marched up from the land-
ing-place at midnight with his fellow-servants
the night before, excepting a tall mass of trees,
and then the dark pile of the house looming
against the sky. As the negro led him around
the end of the building he- gazed up curiously
at the wide brick front of the building. Then
he saw that there was a party of ladies and
gentlemen sitting in the shade across the lawn.



He followed the negro as the other led him
straight toward the group, and then he halted
at a little distance, not knowing just what was
expected of him.
Mr. Richard Parker beckoned to him. Come
hither, boy," said he; this gentleman wants to
see you." Jack obeyed, trying not to appear
ungainly or uncouth in his movements, and feel-
ing that he did not know just how to succeed.
Look up, boy,--hold up your head," said a
gentleman he knew at once to be the great
Colonel Parker of whom he had heard, a large,
stout, noble-looking gentleman, with a broad,
smooth chin, and a diamond solitaire pinned in
the cravat at his throat. As Jack obeyed, he
felt, rather than saw, that a pretty young lady
was standing behind the gentleman's chair,
looking at him with large dark eyes. Where
did you come from ? asked the gentleman.
Jack, with the gaze of everybody upon him,
felt shy of the sound of his own voice. "I
came from Southampton," said he.
"Speak up, boy,-speak up," said the gentle-
"I came from Southampton," said Jack
again ; and this time it seemed to him'that his
voice was very loud indeed.
"From Southampton, hey?" said the gentle-
man. He looked at Jack very critically for a
while in silence. "Well, brother Richard,"
said he, at last, "'t is indeed a well-looking"
lad, and if Simms hath no special use for him I
will let you have him. How long is he bound
for ? "
Seven years, I think," said Mr. Parker. "I
spoke to Simms about him yesterday, and he
said he could spare him. Simms gave thirty
pounds for him, and I will be willing and glad
enough to pay you that for him."
"Tut, tut, brother Richard," said Colonel
Parker, don't speak to me of paying for him;
indeed I give him to you very willingly."
"Then indeed, sir, I am very much obliged
to you. You may go now, boy." Jack hesi-
tated for a moment, not knowing clearly if he
understood. You may go, I said," said Mr.
Richard Parker again. And Jack went away
accompanied by the negro.
The gloomy interior of the storehouse struck
chill upon him as he reentered it from the

brightness and heat outside, and once more he
was conscious of the dampness and all-pervad-
ing earthy smell. The transports huddled toge-
ther were dull and silent. One or two of them
were smoking, others lay sleeping heavily,
others sat crouching or leaning against the wall
doing nothing-perfectly inert. They hardly
looked up as Jack entered.
What did they want of ye ? inquired the
man beside whom Jack sat down.
"I don't know,' said Jack; "it was Colonel
Parker I saw. He 's a great, grand gentle-
man. It's a grand house, too." Others of the
servants near by listened with a fleeting show
of interest as Jack spoke, but when he ceased
speaking the interest flickered out, and they did
not ask any other questions.

THE next morning the door of the storehouse
in which Jack and his companions were con-
fined was suddenly opened by a white man.
He was a roughly dressed fellow with a shaggy
beard, and with silver ear-rings in his ears.
"Where 's that there boy of Mr. Richard
Parker's ?" said he.
D' ye mean me ?" said Jack. Am I go-
ing for good and all? "
I reckon ye be."
The other redemptioners had roused them-
selves somewhat at the coming of the man, and
were listening. "Good-by, Jack," said one of
them; and as he was about to go the others
took up the words, "Good-by good-by,
Then he followed the man out into the
bright sunlight. His conductor led the way
down back of the great house and past a clus-
tered group of cabins, in front of which a num-
ber of negro children played like monkeys, half
naked and bareheaded. They stopped their
antics and stood in the sun and watched Jack
as he passed, and some negro women came to
their doors and stood also watching him.
"Won't you tell me where I 'm going to be
taken to, sir ?" asked Jack, quickening his steps
so as to come up alongside of his conductor.
"You 're going with Mr. Richard Parker,"



said the man. I reckon he '11 be taking you
down to the Roost' with him."
The Roost ?" said Jack, and where is the
Roost ?"
"Why, the Roost is Mr. Parker's house. It's
some thirty or forty mile down the river."
As they were speaking they had come out
past the end of the great house and upon the
edge of the slope. From where they were now
they looked down to the shore of the river and
upon a large flatboat, with a great square sail,
that lay at the landing-place. There was a
pile of bags and a lot of boxes and bundles of
various sorts lying upon the wharf in the sun.
Three or four negro men were slowly and indo-
lently carrying the bags aboard the flatboat.
"Are we going down the river in that flat-
boat?" asked Jack, as he descended the slope
at the heels of the other.
Yes," said the man, briefly.
On the bank at the end of the wharf was a
square brick building, in the shade of which
stood Mr. Simms and Mr. Parker, the latter
smoking a cigarro. Mr. Simms held a slip of
paper in his hand upon which he kept the tally
of the bags as they were carried aboard. Jack
went out along the wharf, watching the negro
men at work until Mr. Simms called out: Get
aboard the boat, young man!" Thereupon he
stepped into the boat, climbing over the seats
to the bow, where he settled himself easily upon
some bags of meal, and whence he watched the
slow loading of the boat.
At last everything was taken aboard. "We're
all ready now, Mr. Simms," called out the man
who had brought Jack down from the store-
Mr. Parker and Mr. Simms came down the
wvharf together. Mr. Parker stepped aboard
the scow and immediately it was cast loose and
pushed off from the landing.
Good-by, Mr. Parker, sir," called back Mr.
Simms across the widening stretch of water, and
he lifted his hat as he spoke, while Mr. Parker
nodded a curt reply. The boat drifted farther
and farther away with the sweep of the stream,
as the negro rowers settled themselves in their
places, and Mr. Simms still stood on the wharf,
looking after them. Then the oars creaked in
the rowlocks and the head of the boat came

slowly around in the direction intended. Jack,
lying upon and amid the meal-bags, looked out
astern. Before him were the naked, sinewy
backs of the eight negro oarsmen, and away in
the stern sat the white man-he was the over-
seer of the North Plantation-and Mr. Parker,
who was just lighting a fresh cigarro. Presently
the oars sounded with a ceaseless chug, chug, in
the rowlocks, and then the overseer left the tiller
for a moment, and came forward and trimmed
the square, brown sail that now swelled out
smooth and round with the warm wind. The
rugged, wooded shores crept slowly past them,
and the now distant wharf and brick buildings
of the great house perched upon the slope
dropped slowly away astern. Then the flatboat
crept around the bend of the river, and house
and wharf were shut off by an intervening point
of land.
Jack could not but feel the keen novelty of it
all. The sky was warm and clear. The bright
surface of the water, driven by the breeze,
danced and sparkled in the drifting sunlight.
Jack felt a thrill of interest that was almost like
delight in the newness of everything.
About noon the overseer brought out a ham-
per-like basket, which he opened, and from
which he took a plentiful supply of food; he
passed forward to Jack a couple of cold roast
potatoes, a great lump of Indian corn-bread,
and a thick slice of ham. It seemed to Jack
that he had never tasted anything so good.
After he had finished his meal he felt very
sleepy. He curled himself down upon the bags
in the sunlight and presently dozed off.
He must have slept very soundly, for the af-
ternoon sun was slanting when he was aroused
by a thumping and bumping and a stir on
board. He opened his eyes and sat up to see
that the boat had again stopped at a landing-
place. It was a straggling, uneven wharf, at
the end of which, upon the shore, was an open
shed. Thence a rough and rugged road ran
up the steep bluff bank, and then turned away
into the woody wilderness beyond. A wagon
with a nondescript team of oxen and mules,
and half a dozen men, black and white, were
waiting beside the shed at the end of the wharf
for the coming of the flatboat.
Then followed the unloading of the boat.




Mr. Parker had gone ashore, and Jack could
see him and the overseer talking together and
inspecting a small boat that lay pulled up from
the water upon a little strip of sandy beach.
Jack himself climbed out from the boat upon
the wharf, where he walked up and down
stretching himself and watching those at work.
Presently he heard some one calling, "Where 's
that young fellow? Hi, lad, come here! "
It was the overseer who had brought the
flatboat down the river who was calling him.
Then Jack saw that they had made ready
the smaller boat they had been looking at, and
had got the sail hoisted upon it. It flapped
and beat in the wind. A little group stood
about it, and Jack saw that they were waiting
for him. He ran along the wharf and jumped
down from it to the sandy beach. They were
in the act of pushing off the boat when he
climbed aboard. As it slid off into the water
Mr. Parker stepped into it. Two men ran
splashing through the water and pushed it off,
and, as it reached the deeper water, one of
them jumped in over the stern with a dripping
splash of his bare feet, catching the tiller and
trimming the sail as he did so, and bringing
the bow of the boat around before the wind.
Then there was a gurgling ripple of water
under the bows as the wind filled the sail more
strongly, and presently the wharf and the flat-
boat dropped rapidly astern, and once more
Jack was sailing down the river, while wooded
shores and high bluff banks alternating, drifted
by and were dropped away behind.

THE sun had set and the dusk' was falling
rapidly when they finally reached their desti-
nation. As well as Jack could see, the boat
was running toward a precipitous bluff shore,
above the crest of which, and some forty or
fifty yards back, loomed the indistinct form of
a house with two tall chimneys standing out
sharply against the sky. There was a dark
mass of trees at one side, and what appeared to
be a cluster of huts to the other. The barking
of two or three dogs sounded distantly across
the water, and a dim light shone from one of
the windows. As the boat approached nearer

and nearer to the shore the steep bluff bank
shut out everything from sight, and then, at
last, with a grinding jar upon the beach, the
journey was ended.
"Jump out, boy," said Mr. Parker, and Jack
A flight of high, ladder-like steps reached
from the sandy beach to the top of the bluff.
Jack followed Mr. Parker up this stairway, leav-
ing the man who had brought them to furl and
tie the sail. Excepting the barking of dogs and
the light in the window, there was at first no
sign of life about the place as they approached.
Then suddenly there was a pause in the dogs'
barking, then a renewed clamorous burst from
half a dozen throats at once. Suddenly the
light in the room began to flicker and move,
and Jack could see that half a dozen dim
forms had appeared around the end of the
house. The next minute a wide door was
opened and a woman's figure appeared holding
a candle above her head. Instantly half a
dozen hounds burst out from behind her and
came rushing down toward the two, baying
and barking clamorously. They jumped upon
the master, whining and pawing on him, and
he kicked them away right and left, swearing
at them. They smelt at Jack's legs, and he
drew himself away, not knowing how fierce
they might be.
Mr. Parker led the way directly up the flight
of tall, steep steps and into the hallway.. He
nodded to the woman as he passed. "Well,
Peggy," said he, briefly.
She was a middle-aged woman with a strong
stolid face. She stood aside, and the master
passed by her into the house, Jack following
close at his heels. It was a large, barren hall-
way, and the light of the candle barely lit it up.
At the farther end was the dim form of a
broad, bare stairway leading up to the floor
above. The whole place seemed to have an
empty, neglected look. A couple of saddles
lay in a heap in one corner of the room beside
a tall, dark clock that was not going. The
cane seats of the two tall, stiff chairs were
burst through, bristling raggedly. A bridle
and a couple of hats hung on a row of pegs
against the plastered wall, and there was
throughout the place an indefinable odor of


horses and of the stables. Mr. Parker beck-
oned to one of the several negroes who stood
just outside the door looking in from the fall-
ing night.
Here, Coffee Sambo What 's your
name-is Dennis about?"
"Iss, Massa"; and he grinned in the dark-
ness with a sudden gleam of his white teeth.
"Then take this boy to him and tell him that
he 's to fill Tim's place. As for you," said the
master to Jack, "you can come back here to-
morrow morning early, and Mistress Pitcher,
here, will show you what to do."
As the negro led Jack around the back of the
house, he found himself in what seemed to him
in the darkness to be an open yard nearly bare
of grass. Upon one side of this open space
fronted a jumble of rickety sheds and cabins.
A number of human figures were moving si-
lently about these huts. They stopped and
looked as Jack passed by them in the darkness.
The negro led him to the last cabin in the row,
then pointing his finger, said, "In dar, Massa
Dennis"; and Jack understood that he was to
The interior of the hut was dark and filled
with the stale odor of wood-smoke. The whole
of one side of it was occupied by a vast
chimneyplace black as ink with soot. A ta-
ble, two wooden chairs, and a settle, or bench,
comprised the furniture of the room. Above
was a shelf-like floor reached by a ladder, and
in this loft was the dim outline of a wide bed.
All this Jack saw by the light of a candle burn-
ing upon the table. Beside the table sat a little
red-haired man smoking a pipe of tobacco.
When Jack entered, he was poring over the
tattered pages of an almanac, while a bare-
footed negro woman moved hither and thither
silently upon the hard earthen floor. She wore
a loose cotton dress, and a bright red handker-
chief was knotted into a turban about her head.
A double row of blue glass beads hung around
her neck.
As Jack entered, Dennis looked up from un-
der his brows, shading his eyes from the light
of the candle.
Mr. Parker sent me here," said Jack; "he
said I was to stay with you."
"Where did you come from?" asked Dennis.

"I have just been brought here from Eng-
land," answered Jack.
"Oh! Ay, ay -to be sure," said Dennis.
"Then it 's like ye 're to take Tim's place ? "
"Yes," said Jack; "that 's what Mr. Parker
"And I suppose the first thing you want is a
bite of supper ? said Dennis.
Why, yes," said Jack; I do feel something
At Dennis's bidding the negro woman set a
plate of cold food for Jack, doing so with an air
of stolid indifference, as though he had always
been an inmate of the house. As Jack ate his
meal, Dennis talked to him, asking him all
about whence he came and the circumstances
of his coming. He showed neither surprise at,
nor especial interest in, the fact of Jack's having
been kidnapped. Ay," said he, "they bring
a many from England that way nowadays."
"And don't they ever get a chance to get
home again?" asked Jack.
Dennis. shook his head. "No," said he;
"and even when their time 's up they grow to
like it here and they stay here."
After his supper, Jack sat for a long time on
the other side of the fireplace. In the reaction
from the continued straining interest of the day
he began to feel very tired and homesick. He
replied to Dennis dully, and by and by got
up and went and stood in the doorway, looking
out into the great hollow space of night dusted
with its myriad stars. The warm darkness was
full of the ceaseless whispering noises of night,
broken now and then by the sound of gabbling
negro voices. The mocking-birds were singing
with intermittent melody from the dark stillness
of the distant woods. The oppression seemed
to weigh upon Jack's soul like a leaden weight.
He felt utterly helpless and alone, and presently
he crept back into the hut and to the bench,
where he laid himself down. Dennis was still
reading his almanac, and presently, before Jack
knew it, his eyelids closed upon the figure
bending over the table, and he had drifted
away into a blessed nothingness of sleep.

In the moment of first awakening Jack did
not know where he was. His sleep had been
leaden heavy, and in the first few moments



of consciousness he had a feeling that he was
back in the old house at Portsmouth. Then he
became aware of an all-pervading smell of cook-
ing pork. There was the sound of hissing and
sizzling, and some one was moving about the
room. He turned his head and saw the negro
woman busy preparing breakfast, turning the
frying bacon over and over, each time with a
loudly renewed hissing and sputtering. Then
he remembered where he was. He got up
from the low bench where he had been sleep-
ing, and went out into the air and sunlight.
The wide sweep of morning was very sweet
and cool in contrast to the close, warm interior
he had left. Everything appeared singularly
fresh and new in the keen yellow light, and he
looked around him with a renewed interest
at his new surroundings.
The Roost was a great, rambling, frame
structure, weather-beaten and gray. There was
about it an all-pervading air of dilapidation
and neglect. Several of the windows were open,
and out of one of them hung a patchwork bed
coverlet, moving now and then lazily in the
wind. A thin wreath of smoke curled away from
one of the chimneys into the blue air. The open
space of yard was what he had fancied it the
night before, the dusty area almost bare of grass.
The huts facing upon it were an indescribable
jumble of cabins, some of them built of wood,
some of wattled sticks plastered with clay.
Dennis's cabin'was by far the best of them all.
A lot of negro children had been playing
about the huts. They ceased their play and
stood staring at Jack as he came to the door-
way of the cabin, and it made him feel how
strange and new he was to the place. A negro
lad of about his own age was standing in the
door of a wattled hut at a little distance. He
was lean and lanky, with overgrown, spider-like
legs and arms. He had a little, round, nut-like
head covered with a close felt of wool. He came
out from the doorway and stood for a while
staring at Jack; then he came up close to him.
Hi, boy he said, what you name ? "
My name 's Jack Ballister," said Jack.
"What 's -your name ?"

My name Little Coffee," and the negro boy
grinned with a flash of his white teeth.
Little Coffee! Why, to be sure, that 's a
very queer name for any Christian soul to
have," said Jack.
The negro boy's grin disappeared into sud-
den darkness. "Me name no queer," he said,
with a sort of childish sullenness. My name
Little Coffee all right. Me fader Big Coffee-
me Little Coffee."
"Well," said Jack, "I never heard of any-
body named Coffee in all my life before."
"Where you come from ? asked the negro
I came from England," said Jack.
"Oh, yes! me know," said the negro boy.
"All white man come from England."
No, they don't, either," said Jack. "There 's
plenty of white men besides those in England."
No," said Little Coffee, "all white men
come from England. Me Virginia black boy,"
he added, with some pride.
"What do you mean by that? said Jack.
Why," said the negro boy, me fader and
me mudder came from over yan," pointing to
the east in the direction in which Africa might
be supposed to lie; "me born here," pointing
to the cabin, "in dis house; so me be Virginia
black boy."
Just then Dennis came to the door. Hi,
boy!" he called. Come and get your break-
fast. The master '11 be awake presently, and
then he '11 be a-wantin' you. You had better
be in the way when he wants you, if you know
what 's good for you."

HEZEKIAH TIPTON had been down at the
wharf. He was returning with a packet of
papers in his hand when, at the street corer,
he came face to face with Attorney Burton.
"Good morning, Master Tipton," said the lit-
tle lawyer. "I 've been looking for you every-
where, and am glad to find you at last."
The old man, holding the papers in one

In the talk of the negroes throughout the narrative, it is intended rather to suggest the dialect of the times
than the negro talk of nowadays. It must be borne in mind that a large number of the negro slaves of that time
were native Africans who had only just learned English, or were learning it.



hand, looked vacantly at the little lawyer.
"Well," said he, "what do you want, Master
Burton ? I be in a great hurry now, and have
very little time to talk.".
"In a hurry, eh ? said the little attorney.
"Well, maybe you can't do better than to talk
to me for a while even if you are in a hurry.
Maybe you don't know, Master Tipton, how
all the town is talking about your nephew,
Jack Ballister, and how he 's disappeared all
of a sudden. Nobody seems to know aught
of him, Master Tipton. I myself had an ap-
pointment with him two weeks ago at the In-
dian Princess Coffee-House, and when I came
here I found he was gone and all the town
talking about him. Maybe you can tell me
something of him, Master Tipton."
The old man shook his head. "No," said
he, "I know naught of Jacky."
He moved as though to go, but the little
man also moved to place himself in front of
him. "Well," said he, "if you can't give me.
news of your nephew, Jack Ballister, maybe
I can give you some news of him. I think I
know where he is, Master Hezekiah Tipton,
and I think I know where I can find him."
He thrust his hand into the inner breast-pocket
of his coat, and brought out a packet of papers
tied around with a tape. I have here," said
he, "some papers that may give you news of
your nephew. Stop a bit, Master Tipton;
don't be in such a hurry until you hear what
I have to say." Then the old man seemed
suddenly to surrender himself to the interview.
He let his hands fall at his side and stood lis-
tening. "First of all," said the attorney, "I
have here an affidavit of Israel Weems, the
London crimp. He was the man who was
down here with some redemptioners just about
the time your nephew vanished. 'T is very
important evidence, Master Tipton."
Hush, Master," said Hezekiah, "don't talk so
loud unless you 'd have all the street to hear."
"Oh, oh! very well," said the lawyer, "if
that 's the way you feel about it, why then I
won't talk so loud." He felt that he had
gained a point. "Just step a little aside here
(To be c

then. Well, Master Tipton, I '11 tell you in
brief what I 've been able to find out so far as
I can. I 've found out enough to make me
know that your nephew, Jack Ballister, hath
been kidnapped and hath been taken away to
Yorktown in the Virginias, and these affidavits
and papers can prove it beyond a question.
Now, Master Tipton, I tell you what 't is: I
have a mind to go to the Americas and hunt
up Master Jack Ballister."
"Why would you do that ? said Hezekiah.
"Because," said the little man, "I have a
deal of interest in him. But all the same I
won't go to the Virginias if somebody else will
take the business up-you, for instance, Mas-
ter Tipton. Now, I 've got a great deal of
evidence about- your nephew, Jack Ballister.
If you '11 pay me a hundred pounds, I '11 give
all this evidence over to you. I '11 hand over
all these papers to you and go home and say
no more about it, and let you follow up the
case as you choose. That 's what I have to
offer, Master Tipton."
Hezekiah seemed to think a little while. He
absently fingered the papers he held. "Well,
Master Burton," said he, at last rousing him-
self, "all this is very new and strange to me
that you be telling me, and I can't answer you
right off about it. To tell you the truth I am
in a vast hurry just now about some other
business. I must have time to think of this
here. Just you bring your papers over to the
office-let me see-day arter to-morrow3 and
then I '11 be able to talk to you and tell you
what I '11 do. So, good day to ye, good day
to ye, Master Burton. Day after to-morrow
in the art'noon." Then the old man was gone,
hurrying away up the street.
"Stop a bit! Stop a bit! called the little
man after him. "What time in the afternoon
shall I come?"
But the old man did not seem to hear him as
he hurried away. "Well," said the attorney to
himself, as. he pocketed his papers, "he 's a
mightily unsatisfactory man to deal with for
certain. He 's bound to deal with me though,
all the same."
continued )

VOL. XXI.-1o2. 809



STANDING before the bulletin-boards of any
of the newspapers of the country, on a morn-
ing in the early days of last February, we
should have found ourselves in a group of
people eagerly discussing the news. We should
have heard exclamations of surprise, sorrow,
and regret arising on every side: "What! the
old 'Kearsarge' wrecked!" "What a pity to
lose the famous old ship! Too bad that she
should be lost !"- while the older men in the
crowds, turning to the younger, were recall-
ing incidents of those stirring times when the
"Alabama," built in England for the Confeder-
ate States, was for nearly two years the terror
of the seas.
During the height of the Civil War, from the
Sunday, August.24, 1862, when she was put in
commission under the command of Captain
Raphael Semmes, near the Azores, to that Sun-

day, June 19, 1864, when she was sunk off the
coast of France, the Alabama roamed at will
over the North Atlantic, South Atlantic, and
Indian oceans. From Newfoundland to Singa-
pore her name was known and spoken with fear.
Appearing and disappearing, she captured and
looted prizes, pursued and destroyed merchant-
men, but eluded all naval pursuit. Escaping
every danger, she accomplished more work and
did more harm than any other ship of ancient
or modern times.
So great, indeed, was the injury done to Amer-
ican commerce, that at length the Government
built a ship of good live-oak in the navy-yard
of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and, naming
her the Kearsarge, after one of the mountain-
peaks of the Old Granite State," commissioned
her, under the command of Captain John A.
Winslow, to hunt down this famous "Corsair
of the Seas."
The Kearsarge immediately went in search of
the Alabama, and found her at last in the har-
bor of Cherbourg, on the northern coast of
France. The Alabama had run in there for
coal, and Captain Winslow, having made sure
of his famous enemy, awaited her off the coast.
Visitors from Paris, and all the country round,
flocked to town, as rumors of a coming naval
combat filled the air, and the rumors proved
not without foundation; for on Sunday morn-
ing, June 19, 1864, while thousands of specta-
tors lined the shore, the Alabama, flushed with
her past exploits, and confident of success,
sailed proudly out to meet the Kearsarge be-
yond the neutral waters of the bay.
"We, as victors, will continue last night's
festivities on shore this evening," said the Ala-
bama's officers to their friends, on taking leave,
laughing merrily over the hand-shakings and
good-bys. One hour and two minutes from the
time the first guns were fired, those very con-


fident officers were swimming for their lives,
and the Alabama, riddled with shot and shell,
her hull pierced through and through by the
eleven-inch shells from the great after-pivot
gun of the Kearsarge, and with many of her
crew killed and wounded, had disappeared
forever beneath the waves.
The Alabama sunk!" How the news, when it
arrived, flashed over this country, and with what
rejoicing it was received in all the loyal States!
All honor to the Kearsarge, who, without the
loss of a single man, had achieved such a glo-
rious victory over the terror of merchantmen
and "Scourge of the High Seas"!
Honor, and glory, too, have followed her in
all these after years, wherever she has gone; for
all the world had learned by heart the story of
her gallant and historic fight with the Alabama.

No wonder, then, when in the cold, gray damp
of a winter's morning we read of her loss, that
in turning away there should come to us a
touch of sorrow as we thought of the fate of the
brave defender of a nation's honor,- sunk on
a hidden reef, abandoned by officers and crew,
and left to the mercy of the waters of that far-
off Caribbean Sea.
Let us see what had become of the noble
Prepare now for a sea-voyage. Fancy that,
in the middle of the month of March, a few
weeks after the news of the disaster had arrived,
you were with us on board the steamship
" Orion," with Norfolk, Virginia, and Fortress
Monroe left behind, standing out between the
capes of the Chesapeake, headed for San Salva-
dor. After the American continent faded from





view, that first land seen by Columbus was the "Do you think we can save her ? was the
first land that we sighted. question all asked the officers--of whom there
We were bound for Roncador Reef, where were on board more than there were brigadiers
the old Kearsarge went down; for the Gov- in Washington during the Civil War. There
ernment, unwilling to abandon such a faithful
servant without an effort in her behalf, sent out
our expedition to see whether the ship could
not be raised and brought triumphantly to port.
As we left the coast, the weather was cold,-
the sea was rough, and there was little sleep
on board. Now and again in the night you
found yourself on all fours, crawling like a cat
over the floor of the cabin, having been pitched
from an upper bunk. But all were good-
natured, and even Billy, the mess-man," did
not complain when dishes left the table, refus-
ing to be penned in by the racks. Suddenly o
came a great change. How warm it was! We
entered the Gulf Stream, and the water turned -
a beautiful blue. Flying-fish were seen; occa-
sionally one came on board, to the great de-
light of Muggins," the cat, favorite of all the
crew. We saw whales spouting; they are of-
ten found near that great stream of warmer
water. The weather became warm and lovely,
and in the beautiful moonlight nights the men,
gathering in groups on the deck, would spin
sailors' yarns and strange adventures from all
over the world. At times, too, Mike" and
"Luke," the divers of the expedition, related
strange tales of experiences under water; or
the chief engineer, who was fond of music, was
persuaded to play-for an occasional dance. THE LAST OF THE "ALABAMA."




were Lieutenant Forse, of the navy, executive
officer of the Kearsarge at the time of the wreck;
Captain William F. Humphrey, of the com-
pany that had made a contract with the Gov-
ernment for saving the old vessel; Captain
Smith, commanding the Orion; Captain Bur-
gess, head of the wrecking-crew, with Captain
Dean as foreman. All were questioned; nor


did the landsmen spare even Martin," the life
of the forecastle, or "Frank," the greatest wit
of the crew.
We made San Salvador on the third morn-
ing out, sighting a few. small hillocks that rose
from the island. Other islands and lights were
passed, and on the following day we sailed
along between the beautiful western coast of
Hayti and the eastern end of Cuba. The moun-
tain-chains rise precipitately out of the water,
with here and there a lonely peak towering
into the clouds. Some of us who were familiar
with the Eastern Seas compared the coast of
Hayti to that of China.

From Cape Dame Marie our course was
shaped toward Roncador, the interest and ex-
citement increasing day by day as we ap-
proached the dangerous reef. After the noon
observation on Wednesday, March 21, Captain
Smith announced that by eleven o'clock on
the morrow we should see the Kearsarge. All
were on the lookout the following morning, but

--lc -eo,,.

by eleven o'clock, as there were no signs of the
Kearsarge, the engines were stopped until the
noon observation should determine the po-
sition of the ship. Then it was found that a
current had taken us out of our course, and
that we were some miles due south of the reef.
Then we steamed north, while every eye swept
the horizon. Some of the men climbed to the
masthead, others clung to the shrouds. We
were beginning to fear that we had again gone
astray, when a shout from above, and then
another, and another, proclaimed Breakers on
the starboard bow! "
The excitement became intense. I see a



vessel!" cried a man from the masthead.
"Two three a whole fleet! "
"Pirates! exclaimed one captain.
"Robbers! added another.
"We 'll clear them out," Captain Smith
Can you see the Kearsarge ?" we asked.
"Yes; there she lies over to the leeward of
the breakers; one mast in her. No! no! that's
a small ship and no wreck. I can't see any
signs of her. Yes! yes! there she lies off yon-
der! No! That's not the Kearsarge."
Thus the uncertainty continued, but in the

no signs of the Kearsarge. "She 's gone!"
exclaimed the lieutenant.
The vessels we had seen turned out to be
four small schooners and a sloop, ostensibly
fishermen; and toward them we made our
way, dropping our anchor about five o'clock
in the afternoon. The breakers, rolling in
a mile and a half away, kept up a continuous
roar, so that we understood why the Spanish
should have named the reef "Roncador," or
"The Snorer."
After we had anchored, a dark mass in the
surf was seen. It was the only possible object


mean time we had caught the gleam of the surf
from the deck below, and before long the
whole sweep of the breakers coming into view
offered a most magnificent spectacle.
There was the boundless ocean, with the
waves sweeping in until suddenly, in a line,
more than ten miles long, they were dashed
into glittering spray with a roar that sounded
like distant thunder. The color of the water,
moreover, was beyond description. It had
in places the intense blue of the deep seas,
with the glow of the deepest sapphires, .and
over the nearest shoals there was the sheen of
the celestial blues, such as are seen in Canton
We approached nearer and nearer; but found

that could be the Kearsarge. The scoundrels
had burned her! No one had been willing to
admit the truth, though it had grown more
evident the nearer we approached.
The Kearsarge was gone! Men looked at
one another and sadly shook their heads. Thus
vanished all hope of seeing the old ship afloat
once more, and brought safe home. The Kear-
sarge had won her last battle, breasted her last
storm, sailed her last voyage. Henceforth she
belonged to history.
Captain Burgess, in the surf-boat, went at
once to explore; but before his return the dug-
outs of the fishermen pulled alongside and the
men came on board.
From them we learned that the Kearsarge




had indeed been burned. .. .......
What was left was made up
of the boilers and stem, ris-
ing above the surf, together
with one or two pieces of the
side, washed farther up upon
the reef. One of these pieces
was even then burning, and
as night came on the glow
of the fire could be seen
above the waves. Who had
destroyed her no one knew.
The exploring party returned
at dark with precisely the .--
same story to tell. The Kear- -
sarge had evidently been -l
looted, then burned to the -
water's edge, and the storms
entirely broken her up. Have
you seen in the markets the big red fish called waters seemed full of them, and that even-
red snapper-a fish like huge goldfish, but ing, anchored off Roncador, under the light
weighing a great many pounds? There the of the Southern Cross and gleaming Canopus,

I r '-'' ,t t.

.. .. ... ..H .. W .



we amused ourselves pulling them in, though
things were very quiet on board that night,
the real purpose of the expedition having failed.
Bright and early in the morning the boats
were lowered and manned, and all hands, offi-
cers and crew, started for the wreck. After a
pull of more than a mile, the water shoaling to
within two or three feet, we left the boat, and,
wading up to our knees,-caught now and then
by a big wave that gave us a tumble in the

surf,-we reached the first piece of the wreck,
a large part of the port side, lying in the water,
washed by the waves. Several hundred feet
farther on an even larger section of the same
side was out of the water, while just beyond,
in the very heart of the breakers, very much in
the position in which she must have struck,
stood the stem of the Kearsarge, charred and
blackened- this, with the boilers, being all
that could be seen.




'-;:~:~,;;;;;:I_'.:;WLU~rUrZ;_ ;~
r~p~~ 1
B~Li;, _~ -~d~i~r2;t~-- ~25


Gathering then on the bigger piece of wreck,
and being joined by the natives, fishermen and
wreckers,--pirates, if you like,- the photograph
was taken, and then, as the lieutenant was anx-
ious to procure some of the old live-oak tim-
ber, dynamite cartridges were inserted here
and there, and a blasting began that continued
throughout the day.
While this was going on, some of us paid a
iisit to the key, or island; for the reef extend-
ing for ten miles is all below water save at the
northwest end, where, for some thirty or forty
acres, it rises seven or eight feet above the level
of the sea. As we approach its shore not a green
thing is seen save a.sort of seaweed, or hardy
moss, out of which the birds, pulling a few pieces
together, make their nests--nothing else but
great lumps of train-coral and stretches of sand.
Admiral Stanton's headquarters and those of
the other officers were still standing, for it was
on that bit of sand, just out of the water, that
they and the crew of the Kearsarge lived for
over a week. As we looked at the sand, it
seemed fairly to move on account of the myri-
ads of crabs! Swarms of fish darted about in
the shallower waters, while turtles were seen in
great numbers on shore. The things, however,
of greatest interest were the thousands of birds
-a large web-footed species called boobies.

It was the hatching-time, and as we walked
among them they did not try to fly away,
but pecked at us savagely with large sharp bills
if we came too near, flapping their wings and
giving a vicious scream. The older birds are
black, with white breasts, and are ugly, but the
young are pure white-like great big balls of
snow. We picked up a few relics scattered
here and there on the sand-a dinner-bell, an
old bayonet, some brass buttons on a tattered
coat, a few bits of timber these were all.
That afternoon, about five o'clock, Lieu-
tenant Forse having secured several tons of
timber as relics for the Government, orders
were given to return to the Orion. Anchor was
weighed, and as the.sun was setting we steamed
away,.with the glorious waters more beautiful
than ever before, in all their thousand changing
tints! The air was filled with birds returning
with food for their young, hovering like a great
black cloud over the little patch of sand. The
schooners danced in the wake of our bigger
vessel as the propeller churned the waters into
foam, while the men in the dugouts waved a
last good-by. Fainter and fainter grew the roar
of the breakers as we moved away, and our last
vision of Roncador was that line of sparkling
breakers, flashing like a silvery sickle on the
rim of the ocean, over against the evening sky.



ON the memorable Fourth of July, 1776, the
American Declaration of Independence had
been adopted, and the delegates were in the act
of signing their names to it. No doubt it was
not without hesitation and some misgivings
that our patriot forefathers came to their great
resolve that day in Philadelphia, knowing, as
they did, the grave import of what they were
doing. One man signed his name, Charles
Carroll." Thereupon his associates began to
whisper among themselves. Should the new
confederacy be crushed by the mother country,
punishment would surely fall upon the framers
VOL. XXI.-1o3.

of this rebellious declaration. But it happened
that there were a number of Charles Carrolls
living in America at that time. So this Charles
Carroll had a chance of escape, which none of
his colleagues could look for. Presently the
murmur reached the ears of the signer himself.
Instantly turning back to the table, he picked
up the pen again, and completed his signature
in a way that left no doubt as to which Charles
Carroll was accountable. And this is the hon-
orable reason why that one signature, well re-
membered by all Americans, stands out, different
from the rest: Charles Carroll of Carrollton."


"WHAT 's all this fuss about?-
This frantic rushing up and down?"
" Oh, have n't you heard the news, my dear?
Everybody is wild with fear,
For old Colonel Camera
Has come to take the town."

Right and left the people were running;
You could hear the fat ones pant and strive.;
And a bride and groom were shouting madly,
"We '11 never, never be taken alive!"



There was nobody in that devoted city
Whom Mrs. O'Flaherty had not scorned;
For she was a cook with a deep conviction
That her profession she well adorned:
But when she saw how she was taken,
She sat her down, and she wept and

The valiant few who resisted boldly,
As a matter of course were taken first;
And the non-committal, who looked on
As they deserved, were taken worst.

Not one escaped from the doughty colonel;
He nobody spared, or great or small.
Their flights and struggles were worse than
For at last they were taken, one and all.

So, if you should meet this conquering hero,
Don't try to hide, or to run, or fight,
But assume your very best expression,
And put yourself in a pleasing light.

*~ .2
J1-L _

~s~n) ,;i

Said a man unused to babies,

As mindlin one he sat,

SIt's plain o see that he'5

.oin'n to be





Now," said Uncle Jack, after he had firmly
secured his Edison electric flying-machine to
the ice with ice-anchors, I '11 just take a few
readings with my instruments, and then I fancy
that we '11 know the exact location of the North
Pole, for it cannot be more than a few feet
away. In the mean time, Bob and Harry, help
the girls out of the car." The two boys helped
their cousins, Ethel and Laura, out of the won-
derful machine in which they had started from
their home in America only the previous morn-
ing for a short visit to the North Pole.
I do believe if I were only on the horizon,"
cried Ethel, "I could reach up and touch the
"It does look as though you could," an-
swered Bob,-"more so than it does at sun-
set at home."
Light plays all sorts of queer tricks in this

latitude," said Uncle Jack; "but light is not
the only queer thing about 90o north, as I will
show you in a few minutes. Ah, here we are.
Now, boys and girls, the lower extremity of this
plummet just touches the actual physical end
of the North Pole. I '11 just make a cross on
the ice to locate the exact spot, and then you
can take turns standing on the top of the North
Pole of the earth."
After the mark had been made, the two boys
and two girls took turns at standing on the
spot, and each declared laughingly that it
made him or her feel dizzy.
It ought not to," said Uncle Jack; for this
spot and the corresponding one at the South
Pole have simpler motions than any other
places on the earth's surface. Every other has
a circular motion around the diameter of which
this is one end, as you know, and the angular



velocity of some points is very great indeed; it
becomes greater as you near the equator. This
point has but a motion around the sun. All
other places have a combined motion a mo-
tion around the sun added to a motion around
the axis. This point merely traces an ellipse in
space as it flies around the sun. The others
generate spirals. Now, Harry, as you are still
standing on the.Pole, please tell me what time
it is ? "
Harry pulled out his watch, and looking at it,
told his uncle that it was half-past one o'clock.
In New York, you mean," said his uncle;
and it is here, too, for that matter. But so is
it any other time. It is half-past ten o'clock,
or three o'clock, or any other time in the
twenty-four hours that you wish it, and to-day
may even be to-morrow or yesterday."
"Now you 're joking, Uncle Jack," exclaimed
Not at all," Uncle Jack replied. "Time in
reality merely measures the distance between
different meridians. Each meridian has its
own time: all the meridians meet at this spot,
so any instant here is any particular time that
you wish to call it within the limit of twenty-
four hours."
I should think that would be very con-
venient for people who are inclined to procras-
tinate," said Harry.
"And very inconvenient for ladies who send
out invitations to dinner at a certain time,"
added Ethel.
You see, time is really identical with eter-
nity here," continued Uncle Jack. Go a
fractional part of an inch away from the Pole,
and time has a value. You, Harry and Bob,
shake hands over the spot I have marked.
Now, it may be midnight where Harry is and
high noon where Bob is, and yet they are
shaking hands with each other. At any rate,
there is twelve hours' difference in the time
of their respective localities. Now, Ethel, stand

over the cross-mark, and hold out your arms
so that they will point in opposite directions.
Now, which way do you face ? "
"South," Ethel answered.
"And which way does your right hand
point ?"
Why, it points south, too," said Ethel, after
a moment's reflection. I was trying to deter-
mine whether it pointed east or west."
"And your left hand ?"
South also."
"And what is at your back ?"
"The south."
"That 's right. Now, suppose you were to
walk in any direction ?"
I 'd walk due south no matter which way I
"We have all sorts of wind at home. What
kinds of wind do they have here, Bob ? "
"They 're all south winds, sir; and they 're
pretty cold for south winds, too."
"Yes, and all currents of water flow to the
south. How would the compass point here,
"Both ends would point south, sir."
"Now we have an infinite variety of longi-
tude here. What latitude have we, Laura ?"
Ninety degrees, north."
"Yes, and it 's the only place in the world
that has that latitude, although ordinary lati-
tudes are common to a great many places.
Now, where is the north star?"
"It must be directly above us, sir."
"Yes, almost but not quite -at the zenith, for
the Pole does not point exactly to it. It
would n't be much of a guide to the escaping
slave in these latitudes, would it? Now, boys
and girls, cut out a chunk of ice to take away
as a souvenir, plant your American flag in the
hole, and we '11 start for home, for I promised
to have you back in time for supper to-morrow
evening, and I don't want your mothers and
fathers to worry about you."


,JOHN DORY, tell the story of the night
When the Pinna gave a dinner to the Trout.
It was surely (yet not purely) a delight,
Though attended- ay, and
ended-with a rout.

But every fish-un of condition sure was there,
From the Cuttle down to little Tommy Sprat;
From the Urchin who was perchin' on the
To the Tunny in his funny beaver

The Swordfish, like the lord
fish that he is,
Brought the Pilot, say-
ing, "Thy lot
shall be
mine !"
The Guffer tried
to huff her
with a

But the Gurnet look-
ed so stern, it made
him whine.

The Grayling was a-sailing
through the dance;
And the Oyster from his
cloister had come out,
And the Minnow with her fin oh!
did advance,
And the Flounder capered
round her with the Pout.



When the Winkle, with a twinkle in his eye,
Led the Codfish (such an odd fish!) to the
Cried the Mullet, "Oh! my gullet is so dry,
I could swallow half the hollow sea at least! "

The Frogfish and the Dogfish followed next,
And the Sturgeon was emergeon from his lair,
And the Herring by his bearing was perplexed,
But the Tinker, as a thinker, did n't care.

The Cobbler-such a gobbler as he was!-
Why, the Blenny had n't anything to eat;
And the Trunk-fish grew a shrunk fish, just
The Plaice there said the Dace there was so

V, The Torpedo said, To feed, oh! is my joy.
Let me wallow, let me swallow at my will!"
Cried the Shark then, "Here 's a lark, then;
come, my boy,
Give a rouse now-we '11 carouse now to
our fill!"

The Dolphin was engulfin' ginger-beer,
Though the Porgy said, How logy
he will be!"

7 ----



-_ I





~-~i~/~- ~c~eez6"-~f~/l


And the Scallop gave a wallop as they handed him a
And the Sculpin was a-gulpin' of his tea -deary me!
How that Sculpin was a-gulpin' of his tea !

I, John Dory, to my glory be it said,
Took no part in such cavortin' as above:
With the Sunfish (ah, the one fish !) calm I fed,
And, grown bolder, softly told her of my love.--'-

But the Conger cried, "No longer shall this be!" \ /-
And the Trout now said, No doubt now it .
must end."
Said the Tench then from his bench then,
"Count on me! "
And the Salmon cried, "I am on hand, my

Then we cut on to each glutton as he swam,
And we hit them, and we bit them in the tail;
And the Lamprey struck the damp prey with a Clam,
And the Goby made the foe be very pale;

The Gudgeon, not begrudgeon of his force,
Hit the Cunner quite a stunner on the head!
And the Mussel had a tussle with the Horse,
And the Whiting kept a-fighting till they fled.



The Carp.too, bold and sharp too, joined our
On the Weaver, gay deceiver, did he spring;
And the Mack'rel chased the Pick'rel o'er
the sand,
And the Stickleback did tickle back the
Lifg i

We drove them and we clove them to the
We raced them and we chased them
through the sea;
SAnd the Scallop gave a wallop when
S we took away his collop,
But the Sculpin still was gulpin' of
his tea deary me! j
How that Sculpin was a-gulpin' of
his tea!



I DON'T see why the people call
This Independence Day, at all.
" I would n't do that if I were you,"
Is all I 've heard, the whole day-through.


I '
h 1


S Te As : i R


IT was the third of July, and sundown.
Harry Barton sat upon the front stoop, anx-
iously waiting for his supper.
He was anxious to be off to the village, where
his friends were preparing for the Fourth.
It was to be a memorable Fourth for him,
as he had been elected captain of the Studle-
funk Cadets," who were to have a mock parade
the next morning, at six o'clock.
Money had been collected and a prize offered
to the most grotesque costume in the procession.
Now Harry, like most New England farm
boys, was poor, and, with a determination to
win the prize of ten dollars, he had ransacked
the attic for queer old hats and long-tailed
coats. All alone, in the musty old attic, by
the light of a candle, he had gone through a
dress rehearsal the night before. As he put on
the finishing touches, with burnt cork and red
paint, he had exploded with laughter; for the
old coat, which was well stuffed out with pil-
lows, burst down the back, and buttons flew
off in all directions. Yes; so sure was he of
winning the prize, that he could almost feel
the ten silver dollars in his trousers pocket.
If Joe were only here," he murmured, how
he would have helped me !" But Joe, the farm-
VOL. XXI.- 104.

hand who Itad been Harry's playfellow, had
been long absent from the neighborhood.
Whenever Harry had wanted a boat rigged,
a popgun made, or a rabbit-trap mended, Joe
had always cheerfully done the work. One
day (the boy's mother will never forget it) Harry
wandered down to the river-bank, and, trying
to capture a turtle with a speckled back, he
lost his balance and fell into the swift current.
Joe was plowing in a field not far away, and
arrived in time to save the boy's life. This
was the principal reason why Harry loved Joe.
But Joe, like so many New England farm lads,
had an attack of western fever." He drew all
his savings from the bank and left for Texas.
Harry was just thinking that it was three
years ago that very third of July since he and
Joe had tearfully parted, when he saw a ragged,
,slouching figure coming slowly up the lane.
"Another tramp," thought he, as he glanced
at the weather-worn coat fluttering in the
breeze, the battered hat, and the broken shoes.
As the man approached the stoop, with the
old hat drawn well down over his eyes, Harry
rose and shook his head, as if to say, Nothing
for you." But the tramp walked straight up
to Harry and, uncovering his bronzed face,


held out his hand. Joe ? Surely this weather-
beaten face could not be that of his old friend.
Yet it was, and Joe had a dismal tale to tell of
his wanderings.
He had not succeeded well in that west-
ern country, and, having lost all his savings,
had tramped his way back to Tinborough after
three years of fruitless wanderings. Could
not Harry help his old friend?"

I I '

Tears were in Harry's eyes when the "tramp"
finished his story, and the boy began to think
how he might help Joe. Suddenly he jumped
up and slapped his shabby companion so hard
on the back as nearly to knock him over. He
had a bright idea: Joe must win the ten-dollar
prize to-morrow! He was almost grotesque
enough to win it just as he stood.
Now Harry feared that his father might not
be cordial even to Joe, at least not until he
looked more respectable; for Farmer Barton
classed all wanderers as worthless ne'er-do-wells,
and he would not have them about the place.
So Harry took Joe to an old corn-house

down the lane, where he managed to bring
some supper. Joe ate more like a famished
beast than a man. After he was refreshed he
told Harry that he would gladly try for the
ten-dollar prize, which, naturally, seemed a for-
tune to him. The following morning two ridicu-
lously clad figures with masked faces stole away
from the farm in the direction of Tinborough.
They went most of the way "cross lots,"

;:, Is .':' t to be sseen until the
yr:nd L .r::e-:i.:,n ,t-lrcd; but, in
pa .11ing tlir:,.igl \\'ido.:. Bennett's
lbarn-y:rl, th.y iiine'.i[.e.tedly en-
ciouintTred: t!ie g:ood "- :oiman at her
milking. Shl to'-k one look at
tht .:. ai tit w\as n:ugh. .A"ai went milk
and sto:, :l. i.l le the \.ido.:i and cow \ied with
Coach otlir ill trying to escape around the
corner of the barn. No harm was done, and
when their fits of laughter became less fre-
quent, and they had recovered breath, the two
oddities went on to the village; but in crossing
the village green they had another adventure.
Before his door stood Deacon Barnes's old
horse and buggy. The old gentleman was
starting off bright and early to bring his
daughter from a neighboring village, so that
she might witness the procession.
The deacon called this lame, bony old horse
"Gunpowder"; but the boys of the village
had of their own accord named him Cold
Molasses," because they had found that that
was the slowest-moving thing in the world.
The old deacon cast but one frightened




glance over his shoulder, and then scrambled
into his buggy. There was a grand clatter and
crash, and old Gunpowder went tearing down
the street, his legs swinging with the awkward-
ness of a rickety windmill. Nightcapped heads
were thrust forth, and had the good people
seen Deacon Barnes flying through the air,
they would not have been more astonished.
The boys hurried away to an empty barn
which had been agreed upon as the meeting-
place for the Cadets. Upon entering through
a side door, they found themselves in what
seemed a hobgoblin world. A shout went up
from fifty terrible-looking creatures, who proved
to be the Studlefunk Cadets."
Bits of broken looking-glass had been nailed
to doors and walls, and in the dim light
these uncanny fellows were putting on finishing-
touches, all the while performing elfish pranks.
In the center of the floor was a tip-cart, and
while some boys were dressing the horse in
blue overalls, others had put a
log of wood in the cart and
were painting it black to look
like a cannon. This was the
Studlefunk Artillery.
Here Harry and Joe came
across an old Rip Van Winkle,"
who peered at them through
his long hair and beard of hemp
rope, and said in a shaky voice,
"Are you anudder brudder ? "
A drum-major was superb with
his immense fur cap made
out of a huge moth-eaten muff
which his grandmother had
carried when a bride, nearly fifty
years before. His baton was a
broomstick toppedby abrass ball.
The Studlefunk Band was rehearsing in the
hay-loft. Their music was certainly in keeping
with their appearance. A more outlandish com-
pany could not be imagined. The tallest mem-
ber wore an immense fool's cap and blew a
terrible blast on a huge fish-horn.
The boys were all chattering together, and
when Harry went among them, he was told in
strictest confidence that Tinborough would
long remember this Fourth. He also heard
allusions to a "big bonfire."

In spite of his questioning, it was not until
afterward that Harry learned the secret. In
the outskirts of the town, in a field next to the
Agricultural Grounds, where the races would
take place, stood the old and abandoned shell
of a farm-house. One of the most reckless of the
boys had planned in strictest secrecy to make a
huge bonfire of this ancient pile.
Inthe neighboringwoods a tar-barrel and shav-
ings soaked in oil had been hidden; and when
the dance at the Fair Grounds was at its height,
he meant to "show the crowd the biggest
Fourth of July blaze ever seen in the county "
At last the Studlefunks were ready; the
doors were thrown wide open, and the Cadets
marched forth into the early morning sunlight,
where they looked even stranger than before.
They had the place of honor in the parade
that wended its way to the Fair Grounds.
The selectmen were to view the procession
from the grand stand, and about them were


grouped all the pride and beauty of the village.
Every girl hoped that her own brother would
win the prize.
The Widow Bennett was there, looking none
the worse for her morning adventure; and, not
far away, Deacon Barnes and his rosy-cheeked
daughter sat in the old buggy, which, although
more shaky than ever, still hung together.
But old Gunpowder-alas! he had run his
last and only race. He stood--yes, just stood,
that is all-with lowered head and drooping


ears, and though the Studlefunk Brigade Band
played their loudest beneath his very nose, he
did not so much as look at them.
A wonderful procession it proved, outlan-
dish and comical. As it moved around the
race-track it looked like a huge many-colored
serpent, and the din it made was heard at
Middleborough Corners, four miles away.
Every boy played his best and loudest, and,
when it drew near the grand stand, the girls
all put their fingers in their ears. As they
passed the judge's stand each cadet did his
best to excel all others,
not only by his ridicu-
lous attire, but by antics
of every description.
At last the anxious
moment arrived. The
Cadets were drawn up
in line, and although
every girl exclaimed,
"Oh, I knowmybrother
will win!" some of
them noticed that the
judge was watching the
remarkable tumblings of
a stranger who wore an
ancient yellow beaver of _-e.u
size profusely decorated -n ih1 I-r'lthcl .
from an old duster. Hi- i:: \.i: a-
very long in the tails and hI-id i-l.:g
brass buttons. He v.or: kince-
breeches, and shoes with ire.t sil' er
First of all he put his ai.tr .rn th-,I
ground and turned "cart- v. Ihls all
around it. Then he picked it up
with his teeth and cleverly tossed it on his
head, while keeping his hands in his pockets.
Several girls all, but cried with vexation,
while Harry Barton was overjoyed, when the
judge rose with ten glittering silver dollars in
his hand, and said to the disguised stranger:
Please step forward and give your name.
You have won the prize."
To the surprise of all, the winner raised his
great beaver hat, disclosing a rough head of
unkempt hair, and, making a low bow, said:
I am Joe, just simply Joe, as once did chores
for Farmer Barton; that 's all, your honor."

A great shout went up as Joe received his
money. Then he and Harry made their way
to the refreshment-tent, where Joe had a feast
such as he had not enjoyed for many a long day.
In the afternoon there were bicycle-races,
horse-races--in fact, every imaginable kind of
race-which Harry longed to see, but Joe,
weary and footsore with long weeks of tramp-
ing, and made sleepy by his unusual feast, pre-
ferred to take a nap in some shady place.
Harry saw him limp away through the
crowd, but soon forgot all about Joe in watch-

ing the exciting races, and in the noise and
animation of the scene.
In the evening the Tinborough Brass Band
played on a stand erected in the center of a
wooden floor laid expressly for the dancers. A
big crowd of mothers, aunts, and lookers-on
stood about the edges.
Kerosene lamps and a few Japanese lanterns
were hung about, dimly lighting the scene.
Suddenly, when every one was gayest, a red-
dish glow lighted up the faces of the dancers,
and the cry of Fire was raised. Yes, sure
enough, the old farm-house was ablaze! The



~-. ;~~a~


flames were curling in and out of the paneless
windows of the lower floors. o0
Harry hurried to the fire with the rest. He d
found the Studlefunk Cadets lurking about the h(
edges, trying hard to look as if they knew noth- b;
ing about it. If any one had told the boy who ei
set the fire that he had committed a criminal act p
he would have been astonished, but such was the lo
case. Soon the whole lower portion of the old pi
tinder-box was a sheet of flame, and the crowd th
was cheering lustily at this magnificent bonfire, w
But suddenly their faces blanched, for above ai
the roar of the flames they heard an agonizing
cry, Help! Help! ni
And then in an upper window they beheld w
the figure of a man outlined against the flame. I
Harry looked for but an instant. He knew h
as soon as he heard the voice- that it w as Joe, tl
and he felt ra :oihd -:i.,.Ir run ,i.:,.T his b:1.:, in,
while his le L ;ilm: -t La; e u .-, un!:l r liin. st
Harry soov.,d v..:ndi:rful :.rec.:n.e ':' niiii, d.
that night. Qui.l; a' tl ho: gh.i, I-,,ir. -ei ...l n i.: ai
which had L:e!n us.ed in biiil.:ln the 'tin iin.- I
platform, and calling tll C.~d't-- t: .l...., rannr
as fast as t-.. trr-nili.hir, Ic :,:,u c:anri hi I.
in the direcrio:n ...t" tli Li,. -i t -le.,.:i e tih't :ht.:oJ
in the cent. r o:i the Fitr (Cr.:*u'.il-. ii
The flairme: ,,-re in in a-l:b .,ut tle hitile
window in tic iek .:.f thr roof' Thi cr owd
yelled, Don't jumni; a lia.ddr ic cornin-!
But, indeed. J-oe .a a'illa id t:, jiI .
Alas! bei.ore the i:dd.l r i:,:i :,me, ;
it would be r:.:*, lIat. A ui'' a ,n:t I
up from thL iro.'. d.IJ.e aiiled
out and hutllc I'.. r tl. iil. i.' to
hold on as 1.:'.r i e i:cLculd.
He closed I- ,C -e in il
terror, and ;.a.i-.t /
about to let
go when
he heard a.
yell from
the boys.
Some- I
his foot. -
Then it .
cameup .

He looked
ver his shoul-
er and be-
eld a gold
all on the
id of a long
ole, while be-
xw and flap-
ng madly in
e hot air
ere the Stars
nd Stripes!
He needed
ot to be told
hat to do.
n an instant
e was astride
te pole, and

jilt r ll 1, illt
.,V.1i into 'thl
m.-,:f Hairy-
nd the Lboic.

earned A





(or a quiet
[lic'e where he
nI miglt take his nap,
J:'e- had, quite by
acdc r.:lri. chosen the
'de rrc, house.
in the years that
ifli:lox ed, Harry nev-
,r reretted his kind-
rner- to Jo:e.WhenMr.
Elirtron lied, not long
il'ter..]rd, and Joe,
hal ing been stead-
i!) at \ark until that
time, b,.:a me Harry's
right-i.trn man, we
mrn.:, Le sure he did his
v,,* ,rk '- eil.for the Bar-
t:n farmn was famous
as tihe ri.:riest farm in
Worcester County.







* [(7



NOTE.-In shape, Rhode Island somewhat resembles a plowshare.

Good Rog e lliams was a man
Who loved his neighbors well;
S But for his faith they made. him. seek.
Another place to dwell.

Among the Indians, in the woods,
To live in peace he went,
.And down by Narragansett Bay
He made a settlement.


'2' Although Rhode Island State is small,
SIts census-roll is full,
ts mighty factories turn to cloth
Our cotton and our wool. i' V41 5



'The State of Connecticut
.'-,You may know on the map, ,
'0: Because it resembles
. A little boy's cap. ..

-. It c:ipR al, Hartford,
,s_ N,,.rthy of pride
Haven's Yale College
iis far Ufa rand, wide.

Now these six noble States:
New England we name,
Because their first settl rs'
Fr old England came.

T eI les


N !



How hard, on composition day,
For kittens to know just what to say!

But easy 't is for all to sing:
"The cat ran off with the pudding-bag string,"
Or, "Ding, dong bell,
Pussy 's in the well!
Oh, what a naughty boy was that
To go and drown poor pussy cat!"


HAPPY little Frog! Of course he was going .
to see what Bobby, and Nelly, and Mamie, and *
Lee, and Louis, and Edyth, and Philip intended '
to do. Afraid of fire-crackers ?-who? he ? No,
indeed! So he did not heed his mother's warning, but hopped off to the
lovely grove at Woodreve, the children's summer home.
The nurses Kate, and Annie, and Mary spread a nice luncheon of cake
and lemonade on the grass under the trees. It was very warm, and the
children played, and swung, and fired torpedoes, and set off fire-crackers.
They were getting restless and tired, when Bobby said: Let's fill a tomato-
can with fire-crackers, turn it bottom up, tilt it a little, and set fire to one of
the crackers with a match tied to a long pole." The plan was hailed with
delight. So they fixed it all, and then sat down to enjoy the great fright of
the nurses, who were sewing and knitting under a tree not very far from the
can, but with their backs to it.
The little frog had been hiding in the grass near by, and he did not un-
derstand.at all why everything was suddenly quiet -so he hopped, and he
hopped, and he hopped, and at last he hopped up on the can, so that he might
see better. There he sat, puffed out with pride and staring all about, while
the children stared back at the foolish fellow,- when bang! bang went the
crackers,-up went the can,-and over went little Mr. Frog into a black-
berry bush! The nurses screamed, the little girls shrieked, the lemon-
ade was turned over, the cake upset, Edyth's bottle of milk was
broken, and such a time! But
it did not last long, for fresh-
supplies came from the house.
One of the ladies came out to -, 4
ask what was the matter; and ,
then all the children told the
story, and laughed and laughed, .,", ,.:..
at the fun. But the little frog _-. .
rubbed his legs and scratched --
his head, wondering what had ; '
happened, and then hopped -- __.
away to his home as fast as he -' J
could go the most surprised
little frog that ever saw a
Fourth of July. BANG! BANG!
VOL. XXI.--o5. 833

THE steamer El Norte," of the Morgan Line, which
arrived here yesterday from New Orleans, reported a
most remarkable mirage, or reflection, or whatever it
was, seen off Hatteras on March I8th. On that day the
mate of the ship, who was on duty, saw away to the
westward a big bank of fog. The sea was smooth and
the sun was shining. As he looked at the bank of fog
lying off to the westward he saw the counterfeit pre-
sentment" of about twenty-eight schooners outlined
against the bank. Some were beating north against the
wind, and some were sailing south before the wind. Al-
though the weather was clear, a mist would every now
and then settle down about the steamer and blot out the
picture of the sailing vessels outlined on the fog-bank.
Then the mist would disappear as suddenly as it had ap-
peared, and the sailing schooners were seen hurrying
north and south again. The spectacle began at six o'clock
in the morning and lasted until eight o'clock.
Many people on the ship saw it. It was not like an
ordinary mirage, but appeared to be some peculiar re-
fraction of light from the morning sun which pictured
the sailing schooners against the cloud-bank. No one of
the schooners whose reflection was seen was above the
horizon. The first officer said that some of the schooners
could be seen with masts and sails and hulls above the
water-line distinctly portrayed, while of others only the
sails could be seen, and some of them were cut short off
in the middle, and others did not show their topmasts.-
New York Tribune.

IT seems quite possible that the swallow will prove
a successful rival to the carrier-pigeon in its peculiar line
of service," said a gentleman from Washington, D. C., who
was at the Southern Hotel last night. "I know a man
who has been experimenting with these birds for years,
and who managed to tame them and make them love
their cage so that they will invariably return to it after a
few hours' liberty. The speed of these messengers can
be judged from a single experiment. The man of whom
I speak once caught an untrained swallow which had its

nest on his farm. He put the bird in a basket and gave
it to a friend who was going to a city 150 miles distant,
telling him to turn the bird loose on his arrival there,
and telegraph him as soon as the bird was set free. This
was done, and the bird reached home in one hour and a
half. Their great speed and diminutive forms would
especially recommend swallows for use in war, as it would
not be an easy matter to shoot such carriers on the
wing."-The St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

WHAT trees bear the largest leaves? An English
botanist tells us that it is those that belong to the palm
family. First must be mentioned the Inaja palm, of the
banks of the Amazon, the leaves of which are no less
than 50 feet in length by so to 12 in width. Certain
leaves of the Ceylon palm attain a length of 20 feet, and
the remarkable width of 16. The natives use them for
making tents. Afterward comes the cocoanut-palm, the
usual length of whose leaves is about 30 feet. The um-
brella magnolia of Ceylon bears leaves that are so large
that a single one may sometimes serve as a shelter for 15
or 20 persons.
One of these leaves carried to England as a specimen
was nearly 36 feet in width. The plant whose leaves
attain the greatest dimensions in our temperate climate
is the Victoria regia. A specimen of this truly magnifi-
cent plant exists in the garden of the Royal Botanical
Society of Edinburgh. Its leaf, which is about seven
feet in diameter, is capable of supporting a weight of 395
pounds.-The Scientfic American.

A GENTLEMAN from this city was rowing down through
the Narrows in a small boat one evening about two weeks
ago, when his attention was attracted to a pair of night-
herons which were standing upon a large rock near the
water's edge. The discharge of a gun by a man con-
cealed among the bushes on the river's bank was heard,
and the birds took to their wings, uttering cries of dis-
tress as they flew. When nearly an eighth of a mile off,
one of them was seen to falter, and it soon fell into the
river. As his boat drew near, the gentleman perceived
that the bird was wounded, and was swimming confi-
dently toward him, as though claiming protection and
help. He extended one of his oars, and the bird seized
it with his sharp claws and suffered himself to be lifted
out of the water. Upon examination, the gentleman
found that the bird's right wing was broken, and that
fractured bones were protruding. A linen handkerchief
furnished bandages for the bleeding wing, until, upon ar-
riving at New Castle, the wound was properly dressed
by a surgeon, who admired the fortitude of his feathered
patient during the painful operation. Portions of the
bone had to be removed, but the doctor thought it possi-
ble for the bird to live if carefully nursed. Our friend


brought the bird to this city, and under careful treatment
it soon regained its wonted health and strength, and was
pronounced a "perfect beauty" by many ladies who
called to see him. The wound healed rapidly, and the
heron was allowed to go in quest of his mate as soon as
he could fly.-Manchester (N. H.) Union.


THE sealing schooners Allie I. Algar" and Henry
Dennis," owned by J. C. Nixon, have been heard from,
Mr. Nixon having recently received letters from Captains
Wester and Miner. The letters were written from Port
Lloyd, Bonin Islands, where both vessels arrived Febru-
ary 8th, the Dennis dropping anchor just three hours
after the Algar. Before the schooners left here some of
the hunters offered $200 as a reward for the one which
made the shortest time from Cape Flattery to Bonin
Islands. The Algar left here December 7lth and the
Dennis December 24th. The former's sailing time across
the Pacific was forty-seven days, and the Dennis's forty-
three days. The Algar lost four days at Honolulu, but
this cannot be counted out. Mr. Nixon thinks it re-
markable that two vessels should race 8000 miles and be
so close together at the finish. He also thinks it the long-
est race on record.-The Seattle Post-Intelligencer.

THE phenomenon known as lightning, followed by a
rolling, reverberating report, recognized as thunder, is
common to a wide zone of the earth, but it is not gener-
ally known that there are localities where the vivid flashes
and the deafening peals are incessant. The most notable
of these continuous lightning districts is on the eastern
coast of the island of San Domingo, a leading member of
the group of the West Indies. It is not meant that the
lightning is here continuous the year round, but that,
with the commencement of the rainy season, comes the
zigzag electric illumination, which is then continuous,
day and night, for weeks. The storm-center is not
always in one place, but shifts over a considerable area,
and, as thunder is seldom heard over a greater distance
than eight miles, and the lightning in the night will illu-
minate so as to be seen, thirty miles, there may be days
in some localities where the twinkle on the sky is con-
stantly kept up, while the rolling reports cannot be heard.
Then again come days and nights when the electric artil-
lery is piercing in its thunderclaps; and especially is
this the case when two separate local cloud-centers join,
as it were, in an electric duel, and, as sometimes occurs,
a third participant appears to add to the elemental war-
fare. Then there is a blazing sky with blinding vivid-
ness and stunning peals that seem to hold the listener to
the earth.- The Pittsburg Dispatch.


PROFESSOR FRITCH, of Germany, states that his ap-
paratus for photographing projectiles in flight is the in-
vention of a little Scotch boy, named Vernon, twelve
years old.-San Francisco Argonaut.


THERE is a man in Washington who has a most un-
common name. His mother was on the lookout for

something original, and one day, before his christening,
she noticed on the door of a building the word "Nosmo."
This struck her fancy. Now,for a middle name. Later,
coming along by the same building, she saw on the door
the name "King." Ah, this was what she was after!
"Nosmo King Jones he shall be," she said, and he was
christened so. On the way home from church after the
christening she passed the same building again. Both
the doors were closed, and behold! the doors with the
names on them she had selected were shut together, and
she read, not "Nosmo King," but "No Smoking," and
her heart was grieved.-The Boston Home Journal.


I WAS hunting duck on the Platte River in Nebraska,
when my horse fell, throwing me under him. In the
fall he broke his leg and I my foot. I lay under the
horse. The animal looked at me and desperately tried
to get up, but could not, owing to its broken leg. I
could not move from pain and the weight of the horse.
After a number of attempts at trying to extricate myself,
I gave up in despair. Finally, with a human look in its
eyes, that horse arched its sides and with a great effort
rolled completely over, away from me. This released me,
but I could not rise. My dog, who had been barking and
jumping around, at once ran away at full speed, bark-
ing. In twenty minutes he returned, and with him a
farm-hand, who said that the dog had attracted his atten-
tion by running up to him and whining and then run-
ning toward where I was lying. Finally the man fol-
lowed him. I was carried to a farm-house and cared for,
but not until I gave orders that my horse should be
cared for, his leg.set, and his life saved if possible. He
is alive. So is the dog, and they romp together in the
meadow at my farm. The horse cannot be used, so I 've
made him a pensioner.-St. Louis Globe-Democrat.


BOTH the Queen of Portugal and the Queen Regent
of Spain have distinguished themselves by saving life.
The Portuguese queen threwherself into the Tagus on one
occasion to save her children from drowning; while the
Queen Regent of Spain rescued a little girl, not long ago,
from a railway-train that was rapidly approaching a level
crossing on which the child was playing.-San Francisco


IT would seem that kindergarten, or something like it,
has spread to Japan. One of the schools in the Royal
University of Tokio is held in a building so constructed
that three sides or wings of the structure inclose a large
court. This space is carefully leveled and covered with
white sand, and in this sand is a map ofJapan,laid out with
the most mathematical accuracy as regards proportions
and directions. The sand represents, of course, the seas
which surround the Island Empire, and the loam, which
represents the land, has little hillocks and elevations to
represent mountains and table-lands, and corresponding
depressions for valleys. The location of cities is dis-
tinctly marked, bays and gulfs are seen, and all the little
interior islands are shown in the proper proportion-of
their size and distance from the main island.- The West-
ern Stationer.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The Black Bear inhabits a great
many of the States and Territories of our country, a num-
ber of the Provinces of Canada and the Northwest Terri-
tory, and Alaska. It is a conspicuous and an' interesting
It is in my mind that a number of your bright boys
and girls might enjoy a bit of original zoological work,
with a prize or two at the end of it. If you will consent
to print a full-page map of North America, showing the
work of the leading prize-winner, ST. NICHOLAS might
let the subject for investigation be: What parts of North
America have been inhabited by the Black Bear during
the last fifteen years ?
The time allowed shall be seventy-five days from July
I, 1894, and results must be submitted by September 15,
1894. Judgment will be rendered by the undersigned,
subject to the concurrence of Dr. J. A. Allen, of the Ameri-
can Museum of Natural History, New York, and the re-
sult will be announced in the Christmas number of ST.
NICHOLAS. The competition shall be governed by the
(1) An observation is considered authentic only when
based on an animal that was seen, or killed, or its
skin seen, by a reliable person, who vouches for
its locality. A skull fully identified as having
belonged to a Black Bear (not a cinnamon or griz-
zly) is satisfactory evidence.
(2) With every locality listed must be given the year
(month not essential) when the observation was
made, the name of the observer, and, if copied
from a printed report or article, the name of the
publication is necessary.
(3) It is not desirable to list localities that are less than
Ioo miles apart in the same State, or Territory.
(4) This inquiry relates to the geographical distribution
of the Black Bear only (Ursus Americanus), and
not the cinnamon, nor "brown bear," nor grizzly.
The cinnamon is to be regarded as a distinct va-
(5) Unsigned statements in newspapers are not to be
considered as satisfactory authority unless verified
in some way by the competitor.
(6) This inquiry is to cover observations made during
the past fifteen years only, or dating back to Jan-
uary I, 1878. Observations prior to that time
will not count.
(7) This competition is open to any subscriber or regular
reader of ST. NICHOLAS eighteen years of age and
under. The competitor may receive advice from
older persons as to the best methods to pursue in
seeking information, or in regard to books, papers,
collections, or correspondents likely to yield in-
formation. Any person may be asked for facts
drawn from his own observations or collections,
but aside from that the actual research and corre-
spondence must be done by the competitor alone,
and so certified with his list. This is required be-
cause the chief object of this offer is to stimulate
original inquiry on a scientific subject.
SUGGESTIONS.-Consult the museum bulletins and re-
ports of scientific societies in the libraries nearest you;
glance through the latest books of North American travel
and explorations; inspect the museum collections within
your reach; consult the files of Forest and Stream, The

Field, and similar publications; question all hunters and
travelers within reach; write to The Postmaster of
the town or village nearest to any locality believed to
contain the Black Bear, inclose a stamp, and ask him to
give you the names and addresses of one or two reliable
sportsmen who can tell you about places inhabited by the
Black Bear. Yours very truly,

ST. NICHOLAS heartily accepts Mr. Hornaday's sug-
gestions, as set forth in this welcome letter, and gladly
offers the following prizes:
For the best list of localities, dates, and authorities,
according to the conditions named for the competition,
Fifteen Dollars and an autograph copy of Mr. Hornaday's
Two Years in the Jungle." For the second best list,
Ten Dollars and an autograph copy of Mr. Hornaday's
"Taxidermy and Zodlogical Collecting." And for the
third best list, Five Dollars.

THE full-page picture printed on page 656 of the May
number was copied for ST. NICHOLAS from a painting
by Miss Maria Brooks, entitled "A Fine Lady," and
owned by Mrs. Walter Watson, Jr., who kindly gave her
consent to its reproduction in our pages.

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

WE owe to Mr. Charles Battell Loomis both an apol-
ogy for an oversight and our thanks for the following
good-natured letter in which he calls attention to our
mistake. The illustrated verse, "A Model Speller," on
page 627 of the May ST. NICHOLAS, was wrongly cred-
ited, in the table of contents of that number, to Mr.
Malcolm Douglas. It was really written by Mr. Loomis,
and we sincerely regret that he did not receive the credit
due him. In his letter, he says:

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: By your courtesy the May
number of your ever-charming magazine lies before me.
A perusal of the table of contents tells me that my
name is Malcolm Douglas, whose bit of nonsense verse,
"A Model Speller," I know that I wrote. And yet I
don't recollect having written the two clever rhymes, by
Malcolm Douglas, on page 596.
A five-year reader of "Our Young Folks," I began
twenty-one years ago to read ST. NICHOLAS, and I have
never had cause to regret it, even though I was never
represented in its pages. When I.received this copy I
felt a peculiar pride in the thought that at last my name


was to appear in the magazine that had brought delight
to my boyish heart for so many years, and when I gazed
upon the name of Malcolm Douglas I felt that I had not
lived in vain. Yet to my boys I will still be known by
the old familiar name (to them) of
(Yours very sincerely)

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a boy fourteen years old.
We get you every month, and I like you very much. I
have made up a little story about you, which I thought
the readers of the Letter-Box" might like to see.
Here it is. I will call it A Dream about St. Nicho-
las." The other night I dreamed that, while out walk-
ing with "Tom Paulding," a friend of mine, we met
"Two Girls and a Boy," who said they were going to ex-
plore "The White Cave." One of the girls said that her
name was "Marjorie, and Her Papa" was going to join
them at a certain turn in the road. The other girl's
name was "Polly Oliver," and she asked us shortly how
and when Hollyberry and Mistletoe first came to be
used for Christmas decoration.
The boy was "Toinette's Philip," andhe said: "' When
I Was Your Age' I went with' Tom Sawyer Abroad,' and
spent' Six Years in the Wilds of Central Africa.'
"The Recollections of the Wild Life' there are al-
ways with me," he added.
We determined to join them, and on our way we dis-
cussed "The Fortunes of Toby Trafford," and speculated
as to how it was that he came to be Crowded Out o'
Crofield." We all agreed that "The Boy Settlers"
had had considerable to do with the gaining of "Jack
Ballister's Fortunes," and after this we turned our atten-
tion to "Polly Oliver's Problem."
We finally gave this up in despair, and were having a
heated argument about the Quadrupeds of North Amer-
ica," when Lady Jane went by in a handsome carriage
drawn by two white horses.
The dust flew into my eyes, and I commenced to rub
them, when suddenly I awoke and found myself sitting
up in bed rubbing, not dust, but sleepiness, out of my
eyes. I had been dreaming about ST. NICHOLAS.
Yours very truly, WILLIE J. M- .

Sioux CITY, IA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In the March number I saw a
story called" Owney, of the Mail-bags." One day he was
in this city, and I was glad I had read that story.
Owney seems to know that people look at him, and he
stands still while they do so.
A gentleman here had his name and city engraved on
a silver quarter and put on Owney's harness. He also
had a Corn Palace medal put on, for, you know, this is
the Corn Palace City.
The day after I saw him Owney started for San Fran-
cisco. Ever your reader, EMILY C- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have long been intending to
write a letter to you, but I never had anything very in-
teresting to write. My sister and I took your magazine
when we were very little children, and now that I am
older (being eleven) I find new interest in the old num-
bers. We have just moved into the home of our grand-
parents -a quaint old house in Fairfax County, and near
many of the celebrated battle-fields of the Civil War. The
house is situated between Fairfax Court House and
Manassas. Ten minutes' ride in the train brings us to
the latter place.

But I must tell you about the house. It was originally
owned by English people, whose slaves built it 137 years
ago. Its date we found cut in a soft stone in one of the
upper rooms. We also found some hand-made nails lying
between two loose stones, which prove how old it is.
There are fireplaces built in the cellar, and we heard
that these were the slaves' quarters in those days. It
seems so queer in this age of improvement to live in a
house built of stone and mud, but we think it so quaint
that we will not modernize it. The walls are two feet
thick, and the chimneys are not built outside, as on the
old frame houses of Virginia. What its name originally
was I do not know, but Mr. Hunter bought it from an
Englishman named De Niel, and sold it to my grand-
father as Hunter's Hou, which was changed from Hun-
ter's Haugh, meaning Hunter's Meadow. The owners
were no doubt millers, for there is an old mill-stone near
by a branch, with two deep races leading to it. We often,
in our rambles over the farm, find curious relics of the
old days, such as arrow-points of slate and flint and
tomahawks of stone and iron. I am ever your devoted
reader, C. DE W. I-.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a new subscriber to your
magazine, and enjoy reading it very much, and that is
why I concluded to write to you and tell you about one
of the industries of southern Michigan, where I live.
One of the most useful productions of this section is
the peppermint plant, which is raised extensively on the
marshes. The roots are planted in rows in April, and in
a few weeks the ground is nearly covered with the dark-
green foliage, which is very fragrant.
By the latter part of August the plant sends out a
small purple blossom. It is then ready to be cut and
distilled. The oil obtained from distilling the leaves is
used by druggists and confectioners, and is very valuable.
The oil is refined, and also made into crystals called
menthol, which are much used in medicine.
More peppermint is raised in St. Joseph County than
in any other section of the world, and a great deal of the
refined oil and crystals is shipped to Europe.
Yours, LAURENCE T- .

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As we have been reading
your magazine for some time, it has been a great pleasure
to us. We are two girls, fifteen and thirteen years of
age. We thought we would tell you of a polly parrot we
have. It was a black polly, with a white spot on his
back. If company would come in the house, he would
mock them when he thought they had stayed long enough.
He would give them a hint to go,by saying, Good-by,
man; come back some day." He was a very impolite
bird. My uncle has two colts and three horses. We
have great sport with the colts. We often go riding.
We go to the river most every day and gather shells in
the summer. We have read a great many books, but
your magazine takes the prize. Awaiting another of your
magazines, Yours truly, HATTIE and DACY M- .

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As I have not seen any
letters from this State, I thought the readers of ST.
NICHOLAS would like to hear about our part of the
United States. I was twelve years old last November.
My parents came here twenty-one years ago. They
came here from Adams, Jefferson County, N. Y. When
they came here the Indians were numerous. There is
an old fort down-town that was built to protect the white
settlers from the Indians. It belongs to Colonel Fransisco.


He was the first white settler here. He came here
about thirty years ago. We live seventy-one miles south
of Pueblo, on the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. It is
three miles on a straight line from the top of the Spanish
Peaks to our ranch. Our town is a summer resort. It
is a town of about 500 inhabitants. It is a great coal
country. We are surrounded by hills that back East
they would call mountains. There is nice, cool water
here, and it is cool here all the year round. I have more
to say, but it will take too much room.
Your loving reader, WILLET R. W- JR.



UP on the lonely tree-tops high
The wind is singing the birds' lullaby;
It sings of the meadows so sweet and fair,
And of the flocks that were feeding there-
About the grasses and daisies high,
The wind doth tell in the birds' lullaby.

It tells of the river so swift and bold,
And of the mountains so icy cold;
It tells of the little brook so sweet,
And of the pebbles that shine beneath;
About the rabbit so soft and shy,
The wind doth tell in the birds' lullaby.

So sleep, little birds, in your nice warm nest,
For the great round sun has set in the west,
And mother above her birds would stay,
And the old wind sings as he goes his way,
And the little stars are in the sky-
That 's what he tells in the birds' lullaby.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are two little girls who live
in the great city of Boston. Our little brothers, Louis
and Robert, are very fond of you.
Papa once told us a story about a Frenchman who was
traveling in Germany. He wanted some dinner, but did
not know how to speak German. He wished for some
mushrooms; so he drew a picture of them on paper. The
waiter thought they were umbrellas, and went at once to
get one. When the Frenchman saw what he had brought,
he was very much disgusted, and at once left the restau-
rant. We are your affectionate readers,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: There are many interesting
things in Colorado to tell about.
One day the children enjoy is "Watermelon Day."
It is celebrated every year. One day in October is ap-
pointed, and the settlers build a pen about ioo feet by 50
feet, and fill it full of melons until they are piled higher
than a man's head; and excursion-trains come in, bring-
ing people from all over the State. It takes about six
men to cut melons, and they have to work pretty hard to
keep the people eating. It is funny to see the colored
people devouring large slices with a grin broader than
the melon. I am eleven years old, and live with my
grandma. MINNIE- M- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Seeing a letter from my cousin
in your March number, I thought I would write to you.
I enjoy you very much, and am much indebted to my
cousins in Ottawa (whom I have never seen) for sending
you to us.
There are three of us-my mother, my brother, and
myself, the youngest. We live in the south of Edin-
burgh, quite near to the Braid Hills, which are low-lying
and flat, and are used for the purpose of playing golf,
a game which almost everybody plays at Edinburgh. I
like sailing very much, and would like some day to visit
my uncle in Ottawa. I have made a tour through the
West Highlands and Islands of Scotland in a steamer
belonging to my uncle, who is at Glasgow. The scenery
is very beautiful there, though in some parts rocky and
wild. I think that the west coast is much prettier and
nicer than the east coast of Scotland. I have never been
out of Scotland and England. We were greatly interested
in the story called Toinette's Philip," and I liked the
one called" Tom Sawyer Abroad" very much. I.remain
your interested reader, ARCH. M. L- .

WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them:

Allan C., Arthur B., Victor J. W., Helen G. M., An-
drew B. B., Jay S. P., Jean N. R., Anna M. P., Flor-
ence E. H., A. T. B. W., Rosalind D., Grace M., Marie
S. N., Robert H. B., Edythe C., Miriam S., Ernestine
F., Pearl F., Henry W. P., Marion W., Dorothy T.,
Mabel H., Laurence B., Hetty M. A., L. Olive R. H.,
Juan Jos6 A., Madeline J., Olive C., Addie R., Lena S.,
Ethel B., Faith and Rose T., Wilfred B., Laurence W.
W., John W. L., May W. and Virginia F., Daisy M.,
Clara S. M., Maud N., Anne B. D., W. T. S., Margaret
W., "Polly," Grace A. and Bessie C., Arthur B., Ruth
H., Beatrice B., Cornelia C. W., Laura B. A., Elizabeth
J. H., Mary S., Harold W. M., Bessie P., Dora P.,
Paul P., Harry R. S., Nathalie H. and Louise I., Jean-
ette B., M. K. E. H., Gertrude S., Mabel B. S. and
Katharine R. C., Laura and Olive, Alda L. A., F. H.
McI., Clyde M., Charles W. A., Mary D., J. Waters, C.
Ernest J., John C. H., Julia and Fay K., Florence C.
B. A. and J. and E., Phelps T., Pauline R., Edith M.
H., Rachel I. G., Beatrice L. and Edith C., Rupert S. J.,
Will P. L., Paul D., Margery T. B., George McV., Wal-
ter K., E. H. R., Clarice and Circe V., Florence E., A.
B., H. M. L., R. M., F. P. W., Vida V., Helen P.,
Letty G., M. D., Frank G. M., Jr., Anna, Marian and
Laura, Harry S. M., Mattie L. G., Frank O. L., James
C., Edith M., Cora E. C., Flossie I. C., Edna A. T.,
Maude E., Gracie N., Nelson L. P., Agnes H. B., Ellen
J., Miriam C., Ella and Ida T., Helen R. H., Anna L.,
R. H. L. D., Virginia B. W., S. L. H., Eveleen W.,
May W., Florence H., Isabel and Clara D., Herbert M.,
Guy H. B., Blanche N., John R. B., Elizabeth L. M.,
L. S. M. R., Ethel A. G., Carla S., Roderick ten B.,
Mary M., Camilla and Janette B., Minna J., Hastings
C., Lilian C. H., A. H. and G. L., Elaine S. 0., Clarice
and Lulu H., Miriam H. N., Elizabeth A. P., Ethelwyn
R. D., Ralph C. J., Lulu, Gertie and Katie S., Harold
H. N., Don G., Louise T., Lorenz N., Helen C., Ger-
trude A. W., Nena I. E., Rose G., Hattie A. M., Her-
bert W., Miriam H., C. M. B., Bertie C., Mollie B. H.,
Mabel C., J. Elton B., E. O. W., Edith E. M., John B.
S., Jr., A. F. B., Kitty W., Jennie R., Gertrude I. S.,
"Betsey," Alice L. P., Edith M. K.


WORD-SQUARE. i. Zambo. 2. Aloud. 3. Moose. 4. Busto. CONNECTED SQUARES. I. I. Load. 2. Once. 3. Ache. 4. Deed.
5. Odeon. II. i. Heed. 2. Eddy. 3. Edge. 4. Dyed. III. i. Gems. 2. Edit.
PI. Fair and green is the marsh in June; 3. Mica. 4. Stay.
Wide and warm in the sunny noon. DROP-LETTER PROVERBS. I. A burnt child dreads the fire.
The flowering rushes fringe the pool 2. Enough is as good as a feast. 3. A friend in need is a friend
With slender shadows, dim and cool. indeed. 4. Too many cooks spoil the broth.
From the low bushes "Bob White" calls; DIVIDED WORDS. Bar-rel, val-ley, barley. 2. Nove-mber,
Into his nest a roseleaf falls, fau-lty, novelty. 3. For-ego, cl-ever, forever. 4. Sup-erb, sim-ply,
The blueflag fades; and through the heat, supply. 5. Bro-nze, dar-ken, broken.
Far off, the sea's faint pulses beat. ILLUSTRATED METAMORPHOSIS. Bird, bard, card, care, cage.
ANAGRAM. The Father of Medicine." Bird, bard, bars, bass, bast, best, nest.
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Centrals, Andromache. Cross-words: ZIGZAG. Coronation of Queen Victoria." Cross-words: I. Cram.
I. parAgon. 2. eveNing. 3. shaDing. 4. depRive. 5. barOnet. 2. cOwl. 3. foRk. 4. zerO. 5. caNt. 6. fAng. 7. Tome. 8. mink.
6. terMite. 7. wreAthe. 8. sinCere. 9. fisHers. so. divErge. 9. blOt. so. shuN. ix. ErOs. 12. aFar. 13. Quit. 14. fUme.
A FLUMINOUS ENIGMA. "The American Rhine." i. Tiber. 15. skEe. 6. wanE. 17. buNk. 8. OVid, 19. Iris. 20. aCid.
2. Hoosac. 3. Elbe. 4. Amazon. 5. Milwaukee. 6. Edisto. 7. Rio 2x. ioTa. 22. CatO. 23. laRk. 24. Nile. 25. Arid.
Grande. 8. Irrawaddy. 9. Colorado. so. Amoor. as. Nile. 12 Rhone. HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, Barbary. Cross-words: x. craBbed.
13. Hong-Kiang. 14. Indus. s5. Niger. x6. Ebro. 2. slAng. 3. aRt. 4. B. 5. cAb. 6. faRce. 7. plaYers.
To OUR PUZZLERs: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the x5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April i5th, from "M. McG."--Alice Mildred
Blanke and Co.-Josephine Sherwood-Helen C. McCleary-Paul Reese-L. O. E.-" Uncle Mung"- Mama, Isabel, and Jamie-
Mabel Gardner and Marjorie Brown- Ida Carleton Thallon-" Arthur Gride"-"The Wise Five"-Louise Ingham Adams-Walter
L. Haight- Helen Rogers-Odie Oliphant-Annie R. Peabody-John Fletcher and Jessie Chapman-Harry and Helene-R. Bloom-
ingdale --Jo and I.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April x5th, from Carrie Chester, x- G. Isabel, i Raymond
Little, i- Francis W. Honeycutt, x-H. E. J., 2- Samuel J. Castner, I--H. L. Popper, 2-G. B. Dyer, 9-"Two Little Girls
in Blue," -- Elaine S., i-" Tweedledum and Tweedledee," a-" Queen Elizabeth," ro-Rhees Jackson, L. H. K., i- Harold
A. Fisher, 2--Robert H. Jacobs, i-Thomas Avery Roper, 9-Jessica Childs, i Mattie L. Garfield, x-Frank O. Libby, 2-C. G.
L., J., R., 2-Ethel C. Watts, i-"Will O. Tree," 8 -Pearl F. Stevens, 9-" Butterflies," so-J. and P., 2-Elsie Harman, x-Effie K.
Talboys, 4- Katharine Parmly, I- Herbert Wright, 3- Marjory Gane, 4- Grandma, Mama, and I, 6-" Lily Maid," i-Samuel J.
Castner, --Hattie A. M., I -Rose Gilbert, P. Le B., H. L, and P. O. S. M., 7-Robert H. M., --Ralph B. Mason, i- Hubert
L. Bingay, 9-Norman C., 2--Charles MacLean Moss, 4-F. Pember, i-" Wisie," i-"Annie Laurie," i-Maud and Dudley
Banks, 8 eo. S. Seymour, 3- No Name, Littleton, 8- Harriet E. Strong and Co., 5 -Carl Mason, -" Three Blind Mice," 5-
"Tipcat," 9-Mama and Charlie, 4- Eleanor Barras, and Helpers, 8- Karl Garthwaite Smith, so- Floy Noteman, 4.

HOUR-GLASS. from 5 to 7, clear; from 6 to 8, convolved; from 7 to 8,
disfigured; from I to 5, empty; from 2 to 6, previously;
THE central letters, reading downward, will spell a from 4 to 8, watched; from 3 to 7, a kind of nail with
name given to a person of excessive enthusiasm. a large head. PHILIP LE BOUTILLIER.
CRoss-WORDS: I. A deep yellow color. 2. A French
coin. 3. An insect. 4. In hour-glass. 5. Devoured. PI.
6. A subterfuge. 7. Drawing utensils. E. W. w.
ToH mudremsim's detpet norce,
CUBE. Twese ot em hyt swordy note
Stell fo stoneculs snynu suroh,
I 2 Glon sayd; dan lodis skabn fo sweflor;
Fo glufs fo stewnesse thouwit bundo,
Ni Idnian swissrendeel dofun;
Fo Saniry capee, moralmit surelie,
5 ." Strifem reech, dan kidbrile ralesupe.


EXAMPLES: A crowded letter. Answer, D-pressed.
3 4 A fettered letter: A-bound.
I. A quiet letter. 2. A varied letter. 3. A numbered
letter. 4. An appropriated letter. 5. A widely known
letter. 6. A saucy letter. 7. A suspended letter. 8. A
7 8 bruised letter. 9. A sloping letter. Io. A talking letter.
II. A masticated letter. 12. A classified letter. 13. A
FROM I to 2, a bird of prey; from I to 3, rascals; from lamented letter. 14. A separated letter. 15: An inhab-
2 to 4, to wreathe; from 3 to 4, meat that has been ited letter. 16. A delayed letter. 17. Two powdered
minced and highly seasoned; from 5 to 6, form of speech; letters. 18. Two packed letters. A. C. BANNING.



I. A COLLECTION of tents, arranged in an orderly
way. 2. The agave. 3. One of a mixed race inhabit-
ing Northern Africa. 4. Saucy. H. H. S.


THIS differs from the ordinary double
acrostic in that the words forming it are
pictured instead of described. When
the seven objects have been rightly
named, the initial letters will spell a
word often heard on the Fourth of July;
the final letters will spell the surname
of an illustrious American.


I. MY first in the earth will ever be
My second 's a slight elevation of

2. My first are often idle,
We know not what they mean.
My second is of value,
In coin, or king, or queen.

3. In character most sweet and mild;
In simple faith, a little child.
His name, well, everybody knows,
For on a farm it always grows.

4. My name is but the title
Of a very famous man,
Whose word is law to all who go
In deed or thought-to kiss his toe.

5. My first is but another name
For color or for shade;
My second 's what you 're loth to do
When a pleasant call is made.

6. In my first you will travel,
When fresher scenes you seek;
My second is a kind of thread
That silky looks, and sleek.

7. My first is an animal, gentle and
A more useful one you never could
My second 's a sound of happy
Another one makes,-not the one
I first meant.


I AM composed of one hundred and
two letters, and form a prose quotation,
concerning success, from Longfellow's
My 23-37-77 is a plaything. My
69-33-92 is a pronoun. My 82-61-
97-11 is the threads that cross the warp
in a woven fabric. My 42-86-53-56 is
to utter a loud, protracted, mournful
sound or cry. My 99-3-47-59 is a
quarrel between families or clans. My
95-29-78-51 is the surname of an Eng-
lish poet and wit. My 85-13-4o-o1

is the surname of a very famous French author. My
93-63-15-67-73 is a male relative. My 80-7-98-31-
48-90 is an imperfection. My 18-Iol-45-30-35-71 is
a city of Turkey. My 2-49-74-5-26-43 is a city of the
West Indies. My 28-89-60-76-19-36 is a city of Spain.
My 16-21-84-65-25-8-54 is to twist together. My 58-
87-14-55-75-79-20 is a central mass or point about
which matter is gathered. My 70-22-
12-96-34-27-102 is a person given as
a pledge that certain promises will be
fulfilled. My 9-41-38-6-62-94-24-4 is
the close of day. My 91-81-32--66-

savage race of South Africa. My 39-
S 46-17-44-Ioo-68-64-83-57 is home-


S* *

I. IN bats. 2. To capture. 3. A
feminine name. 4. Votes. 5. A sphere.
6. Consumed. .7 In bats.
2. A measure of length. 3. To assign
as a share. 4. The European pollock.
( ) 5. In bats. .CYRIL DEANE.

ALL the words described contain the
same number of letters. When rightly'
guessed, and placed one below the
other, the central letters will spell the
name of a man, famous in history, who

CROSS-WORDS: I. To offer for ac-
ceptance. 2. The common herring. 3.
A state carriage. 4. A kind of trumpet,
whose note is clear and shrill. 5. To
render more comprehensive. 6. Hauled.
7. Filled. 8. Vestments. L. W.


2 ., 9

S..8 .1.
4 .............I
5 .... 12

6 13 .
S 7 14 .
FROM I to 7, a famous American;
frdm 8 to 14, a famous Englishman.
CROSS-WORDS: I. Surrendering. 2.
Simple, or trifling. 3. To proclaim. 4.
A book of directions and receipts for
cooking. 5. A sh6rt, light cannon. 6.
Pertaining to the lungs. 7. To convey
from one place to another.



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