• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 The Gossamer spider
 Billy: the story of a bear
 Jack's literary effort
 A poet with a way of his own
 The king of the Samoyed
 Jack Ballister's fortunes
 The lions of the sea
 A belated violet
 "Tiger's " merry-go-round
 Sir Bedivere Bors
 Decatur and Somers
 Poor Dorothy True
 The characters of Theophrastus...
 The horse that did not eat his...
 Sir Walter Raleigh's house...
 Not like common folk
 Doctor field-mouse
 The disappointed sportsmen
 The Tourney
 The story of Cora's puma rug
 The piper
 When baby goes a-sailing
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The story of the three disobedient...
 Rhymes of the states
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00288
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00288
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    The Gossamer spider
        Page 1019
    Billy: the story of a bear
        Page 1020
        Page 1021
        Page 1022
        Page 1023
    Jack's literary effort
        Page 1024
        Page 1025
    A poet with a way of his own
        Page 1026
    The king of the Samoyed
        Page 1027
        Page 1028
        Page 1029
        Page 1030
        Page 1031
        Page 1032
    Jack Ballister's fortunes
        Page 1033
        Page 1034
        Page 1035
        Page 1036
        Page 1037
        Page 1038
        Page 1039
        Page 1040
        Page 1041
        Page 1042
    The lions of the sea
        Page 1043
        Page 1044
        Page 1045
        Page 1046
        Page 1047
        Page 1048
    A belated violet
        Page 1049
    "Tiger's " merry-go-round
        Page 1050
        Page 1051
        Page 1052
        Page 1053
    Sir Bedivere Bors
        Page 1054
    Decatur and Somers
        Page 1055
        Page 1056
        Page 1057
        Page 1058
        Page 1059
        Page 1060
        Page 1061
        Page 1062
        Page 1063
    Poor Dorothy True
        Page 1064
    The characters of Theophrastus and others
        Page 1065
        Page 1066
        Page 1067
        Page 1068
        Page 1069
    The horse that did not eat his head off
        Page 1070
        Page 1071
        Page 1072
        Page 1073
        Page 1074
        Page 1075
        Page 1076
    Sir Walter Raleigh's house at Youghal
        Page 1077
        Page 1078
        Page 1079
        Page 1080
    Not like common folk
        Page 1081
    Doctor field-mouse
        Page 1082
        Page 1083
    The disappointed sportsmen
        Page 1084
        Page 1085
    The Tourney
        Page 1086
    The story of Cora's puma rug
        Page 1086
        Page 1087
        Page 1088
        Page 1089
    The piper
        Page 1090
    When baby goes a-sailing
        Page 1091
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 1092
        Page 1093
    The story of the three disobedient little rabbits
        Page 1094
        Page 1095
        Page 1096
        Page 1097
    Rhymes of the states
        Page 1098
        Page 1099
    The letter-box
        Page 1100
        Page 1101
        Page 1102
    The riddle-box
        Page 1103
        Page 1104
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text



















































































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ENGRAVED BY HENRY WOLF.


GATHERING AUTUMN LEAVES.

ENGRAVED FOR "ST. NICHOLAS," FROM THE PAINTING BY WILLIAM M. CHASE.


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ST. NICHOLAS.




OCTOBER, 1894.
Copyright, 1894, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.


THE GOSSAMER SPIDER.

By EDITH M. THOMAS.

THERE is a noiseless spinner dark and small,
Her house a curled leaf or a tuft of heather;
She lives alone, within her silken hall,
Or at her window sits, in sunny weather.

Perchance there comes a time of wind and rain,
That fills and tips the meadow lily's chalice,
And brims the hollows of the grassy plain,
And makes an island of the spinner's palace.


What does she then? Discouraged not at all,
She spies beyond the flood some favored highland,
And sits and plans within her ruined hall
A way by which to leave the sinking island.

She throws a web upon the air, and soon
S'T is caught and lifted by the willing breezes;
So, freed from trouble, in her light balloon,
Our spinner travels wheresoe'er she pleases!

The fairy gentlefolk that car may borrow
When they would go a journey through the sky:
Keep watch; perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow,
You may behold them, drifting, drifting by.


Ior9


VOL. XXI.


No. 12.


VI)











She Sor

of

:- &


By TAPPAN ADNEY.


EN LAWSON lived at the edge
of the backwoods. He had
cleared away the forest from
a large patch about the house,
and other settlers had done
the same.
So a comfortable settlement had grown up
there, although they were many miles from the
railroad and much farther from a town-in-
deed, Ben's house stood upon the very edge of
civilization. The forest stretched away from
his dooryard, a vast wilderness of trees, moun-
tains, and lakes, like all the northern part of
Maine.
In these woods were bears, which, every
spring, when the frost had thawed from the
ground, carried off many of the settlers' sheep,
sometimes attacking even the younger cattle.
Ben Lawson had big steel traps set along an
old lumber-road several miles back in the
woods. One day, early in the month of May,
when the traps, carefully baited with smoked
codfish, had been set nearly a week, Ben started
out to see what they might have caught, vowing
vengeance on all bears that might cross his
path; for, only three nights before, a bear had
the audacity to. kill a pair of fine lambs almost
in sight of the house.
It is chiefly in spring that bears are thus de-
structive. They have spent the, winter in a
cozy den under the roots of a big tree, hiber-
nating. When the deep snow has departed,


and the early flowers have begun to think of
pushing upward into the new world, the bears
wake from their long sleep, rub their eyes, and
scramble out lean and hungry. One may see
the trunks of fir-trees that they have ripped
open to lick the sweetish sap under the bark.
Then it is that they have their cubs with them;
and not only are they very hungry, but the
mother bear will savagely attack any one who
ventures near. So Ben took his rifle when he
went to look at his trap that first time.
When he reached the place where the last
trap was set, the rude pen in which the bait was
placed was thrown down and the trap itself was
gone. The soft, black earth was torn up, show-
ing that a struggle had taken place, and there
was no doubt, from the fresh signs, of the di-
rection that the bear had taken. Ben did not
proceed fifty feet before he discovered the bear.
It had climbed a small birch-tree, and now
was securely lodged in a fork of the tree about
twenty feet from the ground. The big steel
trap, weighing thirty pounds, was fast to its fore-
foot, and the animal was further encumbered
with a heavy wooden clog that dangled from
the trap at the end of a short chain. The bear
was a large and powerful one. It showed its
white fangs, with a ferocious look; but the next
instant a ball in its breast brought it to the
ground quite dead.
Bear cubs often stay near by when the mother
is caught, and as she had entered the trap only


1020





BILLY: THE STORY OF A BEAR.


recently they were no doubt in the neighbor-
hood. Ben cautiously looked about him, and
had not moved far before he saw a small black
head peeping over a log. The cub started
away on a run, being apparently able to take
care of itself. But being hard pressed by Ben,
who was hindered somewhat by the thick un-
dergrowth, it took to a small fir-tree, and was
just out of reach when he got there. Ben
climbed after, and, as he pulled it down from
the top, the youngster protested strongly at
such rough treatment. If there were any other
cubs about Ben did not see them, for- they
doubtless made off at the first alarm.
The hide was soon removed from the old
bear, after Ben had tied the little fellow; the
trap was set in order again, and the awkward
load was carried home without mishap.
Ben's little girl, about eight years old, took
a fancy to the young orphan, and called him
"Billy." Billy looked like a big Newfoundland
pup, black and shaggy, but with a tail con-






,






Pei







"BEN SAW A SMALL BLACK HEAD PEEPING OVER THE LOG."
spicuous by being hardly a tail at all," as Ben
said. He was as playful as a young dog or
kitten, and used to romp on the floor with the
children, hugging and pretending to bite them.
But the good woman of the house viewed the
little fellow with suspicion, and was not easily
persuaded that all bears were not equally dan-


gerous. It was plain from the first that even a
baby cub was hardly welcome. So Billy was
provided with a small leather collar that could
be let out as he grew, and a small chain, which,
however, was never used. He was fed at first
on milk, and afterward on bread and buck-
wheat pancakes. Indeed, he was confined to
a strictly vegetable diet, because they thought
his savage nature might be developed by eat-
ing meat.
Billy throve, and soon needed a bigger col-
lar. It was never thought necessary to keep
him chained up, because he was so gentle. He
had, therefore, the run of not only their own
farmyard, but those of their neighbors as well.
He was bent upon every sbrt of mischief; but
it was not until long afterward that he began
the series of depredations that led to his un-
timely end. Summer came and passed. In
the autumn, when Ben dug his potatoes, Billy
followed behind, watching what was going on;
and, it is said, as the children picked the pota-
toes up, Billy himself learned to look for them
and paw them out of the soil. Be this as it
may, every bear uses its paws with great clever-
ness- and Billy was a clever bear.
When the days grew colder, at the approach
of winter, he commenced to dig a hole under
the side of the barn, and soon had a great cav-
ity under the floor of the cow-stable. Into this
den he began to carry all sorts of stuff, and Ben
thought Billy was getting ready for winter in
his natural way.
One day when bread was being baked, Billy
hung about the kitchen with a make-believe
indifferent air. After the bread was carefully
laid away under a white cloth upon the pantry
shelf, Billy waited until the mistress's back was
turned. In an instant, the cub made for the
pantry. There was a shuffle and rattle of
claws, followed by a scream. "The bear,
quick The bear 's got the bread! cried the
wife in distress, as she turned in time to see the
rascal running out of doors with several fine
loaves in his arms.
Ben, as it happened, was close by, and heard
the hubbub. He sprang to the door of the
house just in time to intercept Master Billy.
Billy reared on his hind legs, and, as Ben caught
him by the back of the neck, he growled say-


1021






BILLY: THE STORY OF A BEAR.


agely and struck back at Ben with one free
paw, but never quitting his hold of the bread.
Finally, after getting a good shaking and a
cuffing about the ears, Billy broke away, carry-
ing off the middle loaf of the three. He dis-
appeared into his den, where he ate it at leisure.


BEN CARRIES "BILLY" HOME.


This occurrence might have been passed
over. It was his first display of temper. But
in a day or two a hen was missing, and the
next day another, and it was believed that they
found their way into the bear's storehouse under
the barn.
Close by the barn was a dilapidated tool-
house, which was not now used. Some loose
boards had been torn away, leaving a hole near
the bottom. A hen had found that hole, and
on the inside had built a nest upon the floor.
Later she hatched a fine brood of nearly a
dozen chickens. These chickens went back


there, as chickens will, to roost upon the floor,
so they never learned to roost upon a pole like
respectable hens. In the fall, therefore, they
were still roosting there, although they were
nearly grown. One night, soon after the last es-
capade, there was a great commotion, a squawk-
ing and screeching among
the chickens. Ben jumped out
of bed, hastily dressed, lighted
a lantern, and rushed out to
the old tool-house, whence the
cries were proceeding. He
poked the light into the hole
and there he saw the cause of
the trouble. Billy was standing
there striking right and left,
with several dead hens around
him. As the lantern was thrust
toward him, he made a vicious
pass at that, too.
Ben caught hold of the end
of the chain, and with a pull
brought Billy to the hole; an-
other jerk fetched him out and
Ben started him toward the
S woodshed, assisting him as he
thought necessary. Billy was
Sin disgrace. Indeed, there was
trouble now. Ben's wife shook
her head in -a way that boded
no good for Billy.
"Something must be done
with that bear," she said.
But she soon was feeding
the poor creature with her own
hands now and then. Billy
was kept tied for many days
thereafter. His only happy times then were on
Sunday afternoons, when Ben was at home
and was sure to unchain him for a play. While
Ben had his eye on Billy, the bear could be
kept out of mischief. But Billy remembered
a neighbor's house, where he used now and
then to have a morsel thrown to him out of a
window. Unawares he slipped away one day,
and went over there. On the sill of the very
window-unfortunate thing- was a stack of
pies. Billy stood up and put his paws around
the whole pile to carry them off: It was a
dismal failure; for the pies flew in all direc-


1022





BILLY: THE STORY OF A BEAR.


tions. Billy ran home, and doubtless remem-
bered for some time the sound drubbing he re-


"THE PIES FLEW IN ALL DIRECTIONS."


ceived with a broomstick. This was a serious
matter. Indeed, some one at that time con-
sulted the magistrate of the neighborhood,
and Ben was cautioned about his bear.
A watch was kept on
him now, and doubt- ..
less was thought suf-
ficient, because he was
only mischievous and
had never but once
displayed any temper. .
How Billy escaped the
second time no one
seemed to know.
It was Sunday, as
usual, for he was
chained up at all other
times. It was the noon
hour. Ben was sitting
on the door-step of his
house. Suddenly there
was a shout from over
the way, and a woman
ran out of the house
in affright, screaming,
"Thebear!-thebear!" B


Ben did not delay an instant. As he ran
he saw a line of dirty bear-tracks leading
straight across over the cotton cloth his wife
had bleaching upon the grass, and he knew the
beginning of the story.
There had been no one in the room which
was used as both kitchen and dining-room.
A few of the dishes were already on the table.
Seeing the coast clear Billy had run in and
taken possession. He was squarely planted
upon the table when the woman saw him.
Billy had sniffed the molasses, had promptly
upset the jug, and had begun to lick up the
sweet fluid, which meantime was running over
the edge of the cloth and off upon the floor.
The prints of his dirty feet had not improved
the looks of the table-cloth.
Ben entered, the frightened woman keeping
back. Billy was now standing erect beside
the stove, absorbed in attempts to take the
hot bacon out of the frying-pan.
His master pulled poor Billy away by his ample
ears, a little unceremoniously, perhaps, but yet
with a heavy heart, for he was really very fond
of the bear. And he was right in his fears.
This last escapade did not "blow over."

The little girl and the rest of the children


ILLY TREATS HIMSELF TO MOLASSES.


1023





BILLY: THE STORY OF A BEAR.


"BILLY WAS ATTEMPTING TO TAKE THE HOT BACON OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN."


thought that Billy had only gone away. One
day the next spring, Ben and his little daugh-
ter were walking along the old wood's road,
quite near the house. In the soft mud was


the fresh print of a bear's foot, and Ben pointed
it out to the little girl.
"Do you know what that is ?" he said.
"Oh! she cried, that 's Billy's track! "


JACK'S LITERARY EFFORT.

BY TUDOR JENKS.


JACK'S composition-day was Thursday, and
this record of Jack's manners and customs in
literary matters begins on Wednesday. All of
his compositions were begun on Wednesday
and usually were completed on the same day.
You might from this conclude that he had the
pen of a ready writer; but you would be misled.
Jack was really an ingenious postponer.


Jack had a pleasant room for study and writ-
ing. It contained alow, broad, convenient table
covered with green baize, whereon stood his
green-shaded student-lamp.
At the inner edge of this table was a row of
books; some for reference and some for study,
and others for reading. The reference-books
were little worn, the study-books showed use if


1024





JACK'S LITERARY EFFORT. 1025


not wear, and the reading-books bore marks of
true service.
Good night," said Jack to his family, down-
stairs; "I have a composition to write for to-
morrow."
"Hard luck, Jack," said his younger brother.
"But, my boy," said his mother, "it is half-past
nine now, and you must n't sit up after eleven."
Oh, that's an hour and a half," Jack replied
easily, with a confidence not justified by past ex-
perience. "I '11 get it done all right. Good
night."
Good night! came a cheerful if subdued
chorus; and then Jack slowly climbed the
stairs.
He lighted his lamp, cleared an odd book or
two from the table, found the inkstand, after a
search that would have done credit to a French
detective, and rummaged out a sheet or two of
legal-cap on which to write the first draft.
"Now where's that list of subjects? was his
next inquiry. He ransacked his pockets in vain.
He sat down and thought about it. He rose
and went down-stairs again.
"Mother, have you seen my books ?"
Maybe you left them on the hatstand," she
answered, losing'count of her stitches.
"They're not there," said Jack, after going
to see. "I do wish people would leave my
things -Oh! I know! and with a sudden
recollection that he had left them in the front
yard while he played hand-ball with his brother
Will, Jack ran out, searched in vain, came back
for a candle, and at last found his bundle of
books hanging to a picket of the fence.
"I 've got 'em," he said, in passing, and re-
turned to his room.
The clock struck ten.
"Jupiter Ammon! exclaimed Jack, and
then he sat down before the table, unstrapped
his books, shook several vigorously, and, for-
tunately, at last dislodged the scrap of paper
upon which he had scrawled the list of sub-
jects. There were five. The teacher evidently
had sought variety.
The Tulip-mania in Holland.
The Hundred Days.
Something about Earthquakes.
Eli Whitney and the Cotton-gin.
The Kind of Boy I Like.


Humph!" was Jack's first reflection. Then
he began to consider them. The Tulip-ma-
nia.' I remember something or other about
that. There was a humpback who made a for-
tune out of it, somehow. He thought a tulip-
bulb was an onion and ate it-did n't he?
But I don't see how that would make him rich.
No, that subject takes some reading-up, and I
have n't time, even if I had the books."
He crossed it out.
"'The Hundred Days'- that won't do
either. It would take at least half an hour to
get the encyclopedia and cram up on it. Some-
thing about Earthquakes'-same trouble. I
know that volcanoes have something to do
with them, but I can't stop to find out now.
And 'Eli Whitney' is in the same fix; I don't
see but that I shall have to go at old number
five!"
He drew the foolscap squarely in front of
him, dipped his pen well into the ink, shook it
clear, and wrote the subject at the top of the
sheet, making a small k. But after a few mo-
ments of aimless eyeing of the title, Jack seemed
to be dissatisfied with the k, and made it into
a capital K. Then not finding the title neat
enough, he turned the sheet over, and wrote
his subject slowly near the top of the other
side. He sighed with satisfaction as he fin-
ished, and-the clock struck the half-hour.
"Jimminy! exclaimed Jack, only half an
hour left, and two hundred words to write.
Let me see. That will be one hundred in fif-
teen minutes, and fifty in seven and a half min-
utes, and twenty-five in three and Oh, I
don't know! Here goes, anyway." And mak-
ing sure there was plenty of ink on his pen, he
wrote thus:
"Every boy or most every boy anyway
thinks he knows just the kind of a boy that
he likes the best of any. Any way I do. I
like them-"
Here he paused to find out what kind of a
boy he really did like, and, unluckily, caught
sight of a volume of "Tom Brown at Rugby."
"Just the thing!" he said, joyfully. And he
drew it out, saying to himself, I always liked
East, and I '11 just look it over a little."
He opened the book to the part where East

is waging war upon Martin's museum, and






JACK'S LITERARY EFFORT.


found it so interesting that he chuckled away
the minutes until, happening to glance up at
his little clock, he saw it was a quarter to
eleven.
Goodness!" exclaimed Jack, and he shut the
book with a slam, closed his lips as firmly, drew
up the paper, and resumed his composition
with a hit-or-miss energy that would have been
commendable if there had been any sense in it.
"-I like them to be jolly and pleasant
without being fooling all the time. Nobody
likes fooling all the time. A joke now and
then does no harm, of course; but while all
work and no play makes Jack-"
Here he paused, crossed out "Jack," and
went on:
a boy a dull boy yet one need not be
fooling all the time. But what I do despise
like most other people I guess is a sneak or a
liar. No real boy can like that kind of a boy.
Boys should study too. Is there any reason
why a boy cant stand at the head of the class
and be a base ball pitcher too ? I don't think
so. Yet there are many kinds of boys, and we
cannot all be the same. I like the character
of East in Tom Brown. He was a good
fellow -"
Here again Jack thought the teacher might


not like "fellow," and he put in "chap in-
stead, though it did n't please him. But he had
no time for reflection; his minutes were limited.
"- chap, and yet he had fun in him too.
Boys should always tell the truth. To lie is to
be a moral coward and a boy should be afraid
to be afraid of anything-"
This struck Jack as being too sweeping, and
he rounded it off thus:
"- that they ought not to be afraid of such
as earthquakes and being struck by lightning
unless it is their duty to do so. Time forbids
me to tell all about the kind of boy I like but I
can say in closing that a true boy should be
boy-like in all things."
Here, to Jack's intense dismay, and perhaps
a little to his relief, the clock struck.
"There! he exclaimed, "that will do for
the first draft; I '11 get up in the morning early,
copy it, and then I will polish the style up a
little, and I guess she '11 do."
But he did n't. He was rather late in the
morning--which did happen sometimes, and
took the composition to school intending to
copy it during a half-hour of study-time.
Perhaps you will not be surprised to learn
that when he read it over by daylight, he con-
cluded to answer, Not prepared."


A POET WITH A WAY OF HIS OWN.

BY EMMA A. OPPER.


I KNOW a poet, pale, severe,
Who is a poet born; but he
Declares our language is so queer,
So lacking in .consistency,
He cannot bind himself to it,
But writes as writing should be writ.
With his permission I submit
Some samples of his poetry:



I. THE RABBIT.
So shy and gentle is thy mien,
So shrinking and so timorous!


Thou knowest well if thou art seen
Thy chance of life is slimorous.

II. THE LION.
Thou quiet beast within thy cage,-
Thou captive curiosity!
But, ah! within thy heart is rage,
Revenge, and furiosity.

III. THE CAT.
Calmly thou purrest, snoozing there;
Dost thou feel aught of gratitude
For thy good home and kindly care
And health and strength and fatitude?


1026







THE KING OF THE SAMOYED.
(St. Petersburg, 1719.)

By ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS.


FROM the far and frozen Northland
Which the Ice King holds in fee,
Where the frowning Yalmal headland
Looks out on the Kara Sea,


There came, over ice-bound rivers,
Over tundra and marsh and fen,
In the days of the great Czar Peter,
A band of wolf-robed men.


f. *.


f (7


S,


"THEY CAMPED ON THE FROZEN NEVA."
1027


`r

ap~2r~ ~!' Rb~~;



P ~i~l~
ra-l. .-8~r~I~LP"~r`





p*',"_






THE KING OF THE SAMOYED.


"HE SMOTE THE BOARD IN ANGER."


Their sledges coasted the glaciers
On the slope of the Obdorsk hills,
Their reindeer skimmed the valleys
That the frozen Dwina fills,
And over Onega's gulf and lake,
And on, by the banks of Svar,
The untamed men of the North came down,
To greet the great White Czar.

They camped on the frozen Neva
'Neath the walls of the mighty fort;
They gazed on the rising city,
Czar Peter's pride and port.
And this message went with the bear-skin,
And a plume from the heron's wing:
"A gift to the Little Father
From those who call no man king."


Czar Peter sat at table
In the post-house big and bare,
And his courtiers and his nobles
Were gathered about him there.
Then, into the feast and wassail,
The tokens and hail they bring:
"A gift to the Little Father
From those who call no man king."

Czar Peter sat at table,
Where the vodka-drink flowed free;
And the wine-flush changed to the wrath-flush
That all men feared to see.
He smote the board in anger
And he shouted La Costa's name.
"Ho! summon my fool, La Costa!"
And his Portuguese Jester came.


1028






THE KING OF THE SAMOYED.


Then over the Jester's motley
A royal robe he threw,
And the gibbering Jester's cap and bells
Into crown and scepter grew.
And the Czar he said to his nobles:
"The fools who such tribute bring,
The fools who such message send us,
Shall take a fool for their king."


He lifted the brimming beaker;
He drained it from lid to lead:
"I pledge you the great King
Costa,
The King of the Samoyed!
Now, give him an escort fitting,
And, while royal salvos ring,
Let us carry the fool in state
to rule
Over those who
call no man
king." Ai ,


" Ho! men of the Kara ice-pack;
Ho! men of the Yalmal head;
Bow down to your king, La Costa,
The King of the Samoyed!"

The four and twenty elders
Of the Samoyed bend low
To the fool-king robed in his robe of state,


jY




7I1


And throned on his
throne of snow.
The four and twenty
elders
Bend low,-but with
rush and fling
Topple over the fool
who was set to rule
Over those who call
no man king.


Then down to the ice-bound Neva,
From the great Czar's banquet-hall,
Does the royal cort6ge move in pomp,
And the royal herald call:


`- -~- -
P ~ K>
~~N


1029






THE KING OF THE SAMOYED.


They pommeled him with snowballs,
They rolled him about in the snow,
And they tumbled him down without robe
or crown,
Whenever he rose to go;


"You are Czar from sun to snowland;
You are Father of all the race;
But Father and Czar should never thus
Unto tyrant and fool give place!
Freely we sought you in friendship


L


And, facing the Czar, who was laughing
Till the tears streamed down, they said:
"Look! low lies he whom ye claimed to be
The King of the Samoyed!


Our greeting and gifts to bring.
You may take our lives, but,-sooth, we are
still
The men who call no man king."


Io3o





THE KING OF THE SAMOYED.


Czar Peter listened speechless,
While to rage his laughter grew;
Then his black frowh died into shame and
pride -
This man who brave men knew.
And he vowed by the great Czar Ivan
That nothing should discord bring
'Twixt the man who called all men subjects
And the men who called no man king.


Then, with gifts and gear in plenty,
To their home in the North afar
Went the wolf-robed men who dared with-
stand
The wrath of the great White Czar.
But, forever, the fool La Costa,
Who the fun of a Czar had fed,
Was hailed in sport at Czar Peter's court
As "the King of the Samoyed!"


i03I




















7IS.
w^^^ | ^R"
'"', '" ^


jw~ *; r- A
., -. -.
; -. : ,. a *
-?**. -.,: .* .. .- ,. -, ,***.,
.. W. -._. :. -.B
.. .. .

a: S ,' t? : 1
H. E P-E.D. .- ..DLD. IT O U A.. S T
E P E .PA T B A H I O "E
.L --' : I ,',.,- ... i: "i :.
; ".. : .'~*
.,.; J ,-'
HE PICKEBD UP THE BIIRD AND HELD IT OUT AT ARBI'S LENGTH."' (SEE PAGE 1036.)











JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


BY HOWARD PYLE.


[Beg.n in tke April number.]

CHAPTER XX.
A HOLIDAY.
THE next morning Mr. Parker went away
from home. "I '11 be gone," said he to Mrs.
Pitcher, "four or five days." Jack heard this
with a thrill of delight at the thought of days
of liberty in store for him.

"The weather is going to break up," said
Dennis, some three days after Mr. Parker had
gone. He was standing in the doorway of his
cabin with his hands in his breeches-pockets.
The day was very warm, and his shirt was open
at the throat showing his sinewy neck and breast,
He was 'looking up into the sky; the sun had
disappeared behind a dun curtain of clouds in
the southwest. "D' ye see," said he to Jack,
"an easterly storm at this time of year is most
apt to come up from the so'west."
In the morning, true to Dennis's predic-
tion, the day was gray and the east wind was
blowing cool and strong. During the middle of
the morning fine drops of rain began to fall,
gradually changing into a driving sheet that shut
out the woods and the further bank of the river.
The river itself was cut before the wind into
sharp, running ridges, which now and then
broke and whitened to a rush of foam. Jack
stood looking out of one of the upper windows
of the house. He did not know what to do
with himself. He had been to the stables, but
they were chill and damp, and smelled of wet
straw. Everything appeared depressing, and
he felt burdened with the dull hopelessness that
a rainy day brings to one who wants to be out
of doors.
I wonder if it will clear up to-morrow," he
said as he sat that night in Dennis's cabin, dry-
ing his shoes and his wet and steaming coat
VOL. XXI.- 130. z


before the fire. "I wonder if there be any
chance of the storm breaking away against
morning ?"
SI reckon not," said Dennis, taking his pipe
out of his mouth for the brief speech; "this
is like enough the break-up of the hot weather,
and may be 't will last three days."
Then one afternoon the storm broke away
clear and warm. The sun came out between
the drifting patches of clouds, and shone hot
and strong upon the dripping leaves and grass.
Jack and Dennis sat with a lot of the ne-
groes under a shed beside the stable, looking
out across the wet, teeming earth, and over
toward the distant woodland.
"Um shine out now for tree, four, five days,"
said Kala, one of the negroes.
"I ieckon it will," said Dennis, "and be as
hot as fire, too, like enough."
Jack sat idly watching Little Coffee, who was
pressing his foot into the oozy puddle where
the water had dropped from the roof, squeez-
ing the mud between his crooked black toes.
"Well, if it is clear enough to-morrow and
dries off a trifle," said Dennis, "like enough
I '11 go and have a try to shoot that old cock
turkey that comes out in the North Clearing.
Nama 's been at me now for a week past
for some fresh meat." Nama was the negro
woman.
Jack was all attention at once.
"Ai! ai! said another one of the negroes.
"Um turkey used to be here,- tree, four, lots,-
no more turkey about here now. Turkey all
gone. Man want to shoot turkey, man have
to go up to Norf Clearing."
Aye," said Dennis, that 's true enough. I
mind when I came here that 's been eight
years ago there was a big brood of turkeys
came out from that point of woods yonder
right across the roadway and into the maize-
o33






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


fields. There used to be lots of turkeys about
here then, but they 've all gone up the river
now. I do suppose 't was the big fire four-
no, five years ago last autumn drove 'em away.
They have n't been down this far since."
And do you then mean to go out and shoot
a turkey to-morrow, Dennis ? said Jack.
"Aye," said Dennis, "if it be n't too hot or
too soft to travel around the head of the creek.
'T is a matter of four mile betwixt here and the
North Clearing, seeing as you have to cut in
around the head of the water."
"Why, then," said Jack, "if you do mean to
go, I mean to go along with you."
Dennis made no reply, and Jack knew by
his silence that he did not intend to forbid
him to go.
"Me go too, if you go, boy," said Little
Coffee, and Dennis did not deny him either.
Dennis sat smoking for a while in silence.
Presently he arose slowly and stretched him-
self. "Methinks," said he, while I 'm in the
humor for it, I '11 go over to the cabin and
overhaul the gun now."
Then he walked away from the stables to-
ward the row of cabins. Dennis never asked
Jack to accompany him anywhere, but Jack
knew there was a tacit invitation in his words,
and he arose and followed him.
Jack sat squatted upon the hearth, watching
Dennis as he took the gun apart to clean and
oil it. Little Coffee had followed them there, and
he stood in the doorway looking on. Every
now and then he grinned aimlessly with a white
flash of his big teeth. Dennis still kept his pipe
between his teeth as he worked at the piece.
Now and then he held his head to one side,
squinting his eyes, into which the smoke
drifted.
"Where are you going, Jack ?" said Peggy
Pitcher, the next afternoon.
"Why," said Jack, "I 'm going along with
Dennis. He 's going up to the North Clearing
to try and shoot a turkey for Nama, and I 'm
going along with him."
"Then you 'd better not," said Mrs. Pitcher.
"You know very well that his honor expected
to be at home before this. I dare say the
storm has kept him back, but he may be at
home any time now. You know what he said


to you the last time he went away, about leav-
ing home when he was expected back."
"I know that. you told upon me," said Jack,
"and that he 'd never have known I 'd gone
off fishing with Dennis if you had n't."
Mrs. Pitcher laughed. "I '11 tell upon you
again if I choose," said she.

The next day was clear and bright. The
sun shone out very warm, and by noon there
was not a cloud in the blue arch of sky.
"Will you go out after that turkey this after-
noon, Dennis ? said Jack.
"Why, yes; I do suppose I will," said
Dennis, not stirring from where he sat.
Jack hung about and kept Dennis in sight,
and by and by, in the afternoon, he saw him
take down the gun and hang the powder-flask
and bullet-pouch over his shoulder. He did
not choose to say anything to Jack about go-
ing, but Jack knew that he was willing for him
to go, and he joined Dennis as he started off.
Little Coffee came running after them. Dennis
paid no attention to either. He led the way
across the shaggy field, striking into the edge
of the clearing and so into the woods beyond,
Jack walking along on one side and Little
Coffee upon the other.
"When I rode over to Marlborough t' other
day," said Jack, "there was a great big turkey.
came out and crossed over the road just in
front of me. 'T was almost as if I had n't been
there. I believe I could have knocked it over
with a stick if I had had one in my hand."
Dennis did not say anything. He was chew-
ing upon a piece of spice-wood which he
had broken off from one of the bushes as he
passed by.
To Jack the woods presently became only a
confused maze of trees and undergrowth, but
Dennis walked straight on without any hesita-
tion. It was very warm under the rustling foli-
age of the trees. Now and then they had to
stoop low to pass through the underbrush, and
sometimes Little Coffee was obliged to pick his
way so carefully through the cat-briers that he
was left far behind. But he always caught
up again. They came to a place in the woods
which seemed to be the headwaters of the
creek- a smooth pool of water surrounded by


1034





JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


trees and bushes. Here the ground was soft
and spongy under foot. Dennis picked his way
along and Jack followed in his foot-steps.
Look at that snake! cried Dennis sharply,
and Jack started violently at the quick words
breaking upon the silence. Dennis made a
thrust at the reptile with the butt of his gun,
but it slipped quickly into the water and was
gone. "'T was a moccasin snake," said Dennis.
Jack laughed. I 'm glad I have n't Little
Coffee's bare legs, anyhow," said he. Dennis
grinned, and looked at Little Coffee where he
stood with rolling eyes, seeing another snake in
every coil of roots. Then again they went on
through the woods as before. At last they
came out into an open space of some twenty
or thirty acres in extent where the trees had
been cleared away. Here and there were little
patches of bushes, and here and there the tall
trunk of a tree, blackened and seared by fire,
stood stark and erect; across beyond the clear-
ing was a strip of blue river with the distant
further shore hazy in the hot sunlight.
Is this the North Clearing ? asked Jack.
"Aye," said Dennis. "Phew!" he con-
tinued, wiping his streaming face with his shirt-
sleeve, "it surely be mortal hot this day."
Jack looked all around. He had almost ex-
pected to gee the turkeys, but there was not a
sign of life in sight except a few turkey-buzzards
sailing smoothly through the air and two or
three others perched upon a blackened limb of
a tree.
There 's something dead over yonder," ob-
served Dennis.
Where do you find the turkeys, Dennis?"
said Jack.
"Find 'em! said Dennis, "why, you find
'em here. Where else should you find 'em ?"
Jack did not like to ask further questions,
and presently Dennis explained. "They won't
come out of the woods till toward the cool
of the afternoon, when they comes out to feed.
Then we 've got to creep upon 'em or lie by
till they comes to us." As he spoke he wiped
his face again with his sleeve.
By and by he began loading his gun very
carefully, measuring the powder, wrapping the
bullet in a piece of greasy cloth, and ramming
it down with some difficulty into the gun.


Jack sat upon a fallen log watching him,
After Dennis had loaded his gun he propped
it carefully upon the log, and then stretched
himself out upon a grassy place under the
shade of a tree.
"You keep a sharp lookout now," said he,
"and the best pair of eyes sees the turkeys
first."
Do you often go gunning, Dennis?" said
Jack.
I used to one time," said Dennis, "but not
much now."
"Why not? said Jack.
Oh, I don't know," said Dennis; "I don't
choose to."
He stretched himself as he spoke and closed
his eyes, and Jack did not say anything further.

The sun sank further toward the west, and the
shadows of the trees grew longer and longer.
Jack sat listening, and enjoying the warm soli-
tude. The sun sank lower and lower.
Yan de turkey, Massa Dennis," said Little
Coffee suddenly, and Jack, whose thoughts had
been wandering, came sharply and keenly back
to himself.
Dennis started up from where he lay and
looked in the direction in which Little Coffee
was pointing. Jack raised himself cautiously
and looked, too. The turkeys had come out
from the woods without any of the three seeing
them until that moment. They were feeding in
the opening about a furlong away, and maybe
fifty or sixty yards from the edge of the woods.
Dennis arose and took his gun without speak-
ing. Then, partly crouching, he skirted back
into the woods, Jack following him and Little
Coffee following Jack. They went on for some
distance, and then Dennis turned sharply out
again toward the edge of the woods. He went
forward now very slowly and cautiously, and
Jack followed him half crouching. He found
that his heart was thumping heavily within him.
He was intensely excited: Would Dennis
really shoot one of the turkeys?
Wait a little," said Dennis without turning
around -" wait a little until I see where I be."
Jack could now see between the thickets that
the clearing was just ahead of them. Dennis
crept cautiously forward, and Jack stood watch-


1035






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


ing him. Presently he saw that Dennis was
beckoning for him to come forward. He did
so, coming very carefully. Dennis was crouched
down looking out through the bushes, and Jack
came close to him. Little Coffee followed them.
He peered out from between the leaves and
there were the turkeys, perhaps fifty or sixty
yards away-a great cock turkey, and three or
four hens, each with a brood of some dozen
turkey-poults, perhaps as large as so many pul-
lets. To Jack's eyes the great birds looked
very big and very near.
"'T is like if we went on a little furder,"
whispered Dennis, "we could get nigher to 'em,
but I have a mind to risk a shot from here."
Jack did not say anything. His heart was
beating and throbbing violently. Dennis
crouched for a moment or two, looking at the
turkeys. Then he carefully raised his gun and
thrust it out through a fork of the bush in front
of him. He took a long, steady aim. Jack
waited, hardly daring to breathe, every nerve
tensely braced to meet the shock of the dis-
charge. He waited, but there was no report.
Suddenly Dennis lowered the gun from his
shoulder. Jack's nerves relaxed thrilling.
"'T is like they are too far away for a sure
shot," said Dennis. I 've a mind to try and
get nigher to them around that point of woods
yonder."
Jack drew a deep breath, almost like a sigh.
Then he saw that Dennis was aiming the gun
again. Something must have alarmed the
birds, for the great cock raised his head and
looked sharply this way and that. Then sud-
denly, when Jack was not expecting it, there
came the stunning, deafening report of the
gun. A cloud of pungent smoke hid every-,
thing for a little while. Then it had dissolved,
Could Jack believe his eyes? The great tur-
key-cock was flapping and struggling upon the
ground.
He leaped up with a shout and ran out into
the clearing. He heard Little Coffee shout
behind him. He ran forward through the long,
shaggy grass, jumping over the stumps. He
had a vision of the rest of the turkeys scatter-
ing with shrill, piping cries toward the woods,
half-flying, half-running, but the great turkey-
cock still lay flapping upon the ground. It


was nearly still when he reached it; its half-
closed eyes were still bright with the life that
had just left them. There it lay upon the
ground. Jack looked down at it in an ecstasy.
The sun shone upon the burnished, metallic
luster of its neck-feathers- purple, blue, green.
Its great horny foot made a futile, scratching
struggle, and then it was still.
Dennis was coming hurrying forward at a
trot, carrying his gun hanging at his side.
Little Coffee was capering around. Dennis
came up to where Jack stood. He hid what-
ever exultation he might have felt under an as-
sumed air of stolid indifference. "'T was a
pretty long shot," said he, "and methought I 'd
miss it. But 't was the only chance I had."
As he spoke he wiped his face with his
sleeve. He picked up the bird and held it out
at arm's length. Its wings fell open as he did
so. Then he dropped it again upon the
ground.
Well," said he, there 's Nama's fresh meat,
anyhow."
"I '11 carry it home for you, Dennis," said
Jack.
"You may if you choose," said Dennis.
The shadows were growing longer and longer
as they plunged into the woods again, with their
faces homeward. Jack soon found his load
was very heavy, and presently he was glad to
share it with Little Coffee. He tied the feet of
the great bird together with one of his shoe-
strings; then he slung it over a branch, he tak-
ing one end upon his shoulder and Little
Coffee the other upon his. Then again they
went onward, Dennis leading the way.
The sun had set, and the first shade of twi-
light was beginning to fall when they came out
again from the woods and in sight of the Roost.
As they came up to the row of cabins Kala
came out to meet them.
We shot it, Kala! cried Jack exultingly -
"we shot it. A great, noble, big turkey as
ever lived."
De master he came home while ago," said
Kala. He been axing for you."
Jack stood stock still. "What 's that,
Kala? said he.
De master he came home," repeated Kala;
" he been axing for you."'


1036





JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


Somehow Jack could not believe his ears.
It did not seem possible. D' ye mean Mr.
Parker 's come back ? said he.
Um, um," said Kala, nodding his head.

CHAPTER XXI.

NEMESIS.
"NEVER you mind anything more, Jack,"
said Dennis. "You run up to the house as
quick as you can, and maybe you '11 be in time
to save your skin yet."
Jack did not trust himself to speak; he and
Little Coffee had laid the dead turkey down
upon the ground. Without replying to Dennis
he ran away toward the house. He heard
voices as he approached; they ceased at the
sound of his footsteps as he entered the house.
Mr. Parker was standing with his hat on in the
middle of the hall. Mrs. Pitcher stood lean-
ing over the lean rickety bannister-rail half-way
up the stairs. "There he is now," she said, as
Jack entered. "And 't is no use to bluster at
me any more. I told you 't was none of my
doings that he went."
Mr. Parker fixed a dull, heavy, threatening look
upon Jack, who stood looking down at the floor
holding his hat in his hand. "Come hither,"
said he at last in a gloomy voice, and Jack ad-
vanced slowly and reluctantly. Come here,
I say," he repeated, as Jack hesitated at a little
distance, and again Jack advanced. Mr. Parker
reached out suddenly, and caught him by the
collar of his coat. Jack made no effort to re-
sist him; he stood perfectly quiet, but his throat
was dry and hot, and his heart, partly with the
haste he had made, was beating quickly and
heavily. I 've told you and told you again,"
said Mr. Parker, coldly, "how you have neg-
lected me and your duties, but you don't
choose to take warning by what I say. You
do as you please, to my very face. I told you
that if I ever came home, and found you run
away, I 'd flay you alive and so I will."
He drew Jack across the room, and Jack,
still not daring to resist, allowed himself to be
led as the master chose. It was not until Mr.
'Parker had taken down the heavy riding-whip
from the wall that Jack fully understood what
he intended to do to him. His first instinct


was of defense. As Mr. Parker raised his
arm Jack reached up almost instinctively and
caught him by the sleeve, holding him tight.
" Your honor! he cried in a hoarse, dry voice,
" your honor, I 'm mightily sorry for what I 've
done, and I promise you I '11 never do the like
again. I '11 never run away again, your honor,
indeed I won't! "
"Let go my arm!" cried Mr. Parker harshly.
"What d' ye mean by holding my arm like
that?" He strove to break away from Jack's
hold, but Jack clung to him more desperately
than ever.
"I promise you, your honor," he cried pant-
ingly, "I promise you I '11 never go away
again; and I promise you after this that I '11
do just as you tell me, but but you sha'n't
beat me, your honor; I'm mighty sorry for what
I 've done I am, and you sha'n't beat me! "
Sha'n't I ?" said Mr. Parker. "Then I '11
show you. Let go my arm, I tell you! And
he tried to wrench himself loose, but still Jack
held him tight. Then Mr. Parker let go his
.grasp upon Jack's collar, and tried to pluck
away the hold of the fingers that clutched his
sleeve. "Let me go, I tell you!" he cried,
Are you mad to hold me thus ?-what do you
mean? Let me go! The next moment he
had torn his arm free. He struck at Jack with
the whip, but Jack clung to him so closely that
the blow was without effect, and before he
could strike him again Jack had caught him
once more.
He heard the rasping sound of ripping cloth,
and he knew that he must have torn some part
of his master's dress. You sha'n't beat me! "
he gasped. I tell you, you sha'n't beat me! "
. Mr. Parker tried to thrust him away with his
elbow, but Jack clung all the more tightly to
him. As Mr. Parker pushed him partly away,
Jack could see his handsome face flaming fiery
red, but in the violence and excitement of the
struggle he only half knewwhat he was doing.
He could feel the struggling movements of his
master's body as he clutched him, and he was
conscious of the soft linen of his shirt and the
fine smell of his clothing. Then he felt that
some one had caught him by the collar, and, in
the turmoil of his excitement, he heard Mrs.
Pitcher's voice. "Let go, Jack i "* she was cry-


1037






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


ing. "Are you clean gone crazy? What are
you doing! Let go, I say! "
"No, I won't!" cried Jack, hoarsely; "he
sha'n't beat me, I say!"
In his struggles he felt himself strike against
the edge of the table, and then against a chair.
Then he stumbled against another chair, over-
turning it with a loud clatter. At the same in-
stant Mr. Parker tripped over it, and fell rolling
over and over on the floor. In the fall his hat
and wig were knocked off, but he still held the
whip clutched, in his hand. Jack stood panting,
and Mrs. Pitcher still had hold of him by the
collar of his coat.
In the cessation of the uproar of the strug-
gle, Jack heard the blood surging with a cease-
lessly beating "hum-hum-hum in his ears.
Mr. Parker lay still for a second or two as
though partly stunned by his fall; then he
scrambled up from the floor. He picked up
his wig, and put it on his head. He did not
seem to see his hat where it had fallen under
the table. He put his hand for a moment to
his head; then he flung the riding-whip down
upon the table, and walked to the door without
looking at Jack. Dennis, who was on his way
to his cabin, had heard the sound of the strug-
gle and loud voices, the scuffling of feet upon
the bare floor, and the clattering overturning of
chairs. He had stopped, with the gun over his
shoulder; Little Coffee was carrying the turkey.
Dennis!" cried the master hoarsely, bring
three or four men and come over here directly."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he came back
to the table and poured out a glass of liquor for
himself. The bottle clinked and tinkled against
the edge of the glass with the nervous trem-
bling of his hand.
Jack heard Mr. Parker's words to Dennis,
and realized for the first time how utterly and
helplessly powerless he was. His heart sank
away within him. He stood without moving,
numb with despair, the rapid pulse-beats still
surging in his ears. "Your honor -your
honor," he said huskily, "I--I did n't know
what I was doing-I did n't. I did n't mean
to tear your dress. Pardon me, your honor, I
did n't mean it!" Mr. Parker paid not the
slightest attention to him. "Won't you listen
to me, your honor? said Jack despairingly, as


he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
"I did n't mean to do it, your honor." The
next moment Dennis and three negroes came
into the house. "I want you to take that boy
to the cell," said Mr. Parker, pointing to Jack,
" and chain him up for the night. I '11 flay you
alive to-morrow," said he to Jack, grinding his
white teeth together. And then he turned and
went out of the room.
"What have you been doing, Jack?" said
Dennis.
Oh! I don't know, Dennis," Jack panted-
almost sobbing. He was going to beat me,
and I tried to keep him from doing it, that
was all."
"He fought with his honor like a wild-cat,"
said Mrs. Pitcher, "and he threw him down
over a chair on to the floor."
"Why did you do that, Jack? said Dennis.
" You must have been clean gone crazy to do
such a thing as that." Jack tried to reply, but
he could not do so for the choking in his
throat. Well," said Dennis, "there is noth-
ing left now but to.do as his honor said. You
had better come along, Jack, and not make
any more trouble."
I 'm not going to make any more trouble,"
said Jack hoarsely.
"And what are you going to do with him,
Dennis?" said Mrs. Pitcher.
"Why," said Dennis, "you heard what his
honor said. What else can I do with him?
I 've got to take him to the cell--I can't do
anything else."
"But 't is 'as hot as an oven there, Dennis;
it has n't been opened for a month. 'T will
make him sick."
It does n't matter," said Jack, his voice still
hoarse, and straining with the effort not to sob.
"I do not care now where you take me. I 'd
as lief go to the cell as anywhere."
Dennis and Mrs. Pitcher stood looking at
Jack. "Well," said Dennis, giving himself a
shake, "'t is a bad, bad piece of business. I
can't do anything to help you. .Come along,
and I '11 make it as easy for you as I can."
I '11 send you over something good to eat,"
said Mrs. Pitcher.
"I don't want anything to eat," said Jack,
despairingly.


1038





JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


The cell was a small brick building, immedi-
ately adjoining, and built into, the brick part
of the house. Jack had been there once with
Little Coffee, who had pointed out the three
chains fastened to staples in the walls. Jack
stood by watching Dennis as he worked for a
while with the rusty leg-irons, turning the key
this way and that before he could get the
shackles open. "'T is getting that dark," said
he, "that I can't see a thing. There it comes!
Come, Jack, hold your leg over here. 'T is
got to be done, you know."
Jack tried to say something, but he could
not trust himself to speak. As Dennis adjusted
the irons Mrs. Pitcher came bringing some food
wrapped up in a cloth. Here," said she, you
eat this and you '11 feel the better for it." Jack
shook his head. Well, I '11 put it down here,
and maybe you '11 eat it by and by," said she.
The darkness, when the door was shut, was
like a black wall before him, and the muf-
fled silence covered him over like a blanket.
His ears hummed and tingled and buzzed, and
he sat there thinking thinking-- thinking.
He wished he had not resisted. He wondered
why he had resisted. If there was only some
way he could make himself right with the mas-
ter; if he could only beg and obtain some
pardon. Then he realized, with despair, that
there was no way in which he could undo
what he had done. He saw his master as he
rolled over on the floor, and he knew that he
would never be forgiven such an insult. And
then he thrilled with an agony as he thought
what must happen the next day- of what must
happen. If he could only escape! If he could
only escape! But he could not escape. He
felt the iron around his leg, and he knew he
could not escape. There was nothing for him
but to sit there all night until the next day, and
then to suffer and endure as well as he could.
If it was only to endure; but that was not all.
More would be done to him than he could
endure. Oh! if he could only stop thinking of
it;.but he could not. Then suddenly he felt
that he was parched and dry with thirst. He
wondered if Mrs. Pitcher had brought him
anything to drink. He reached over, fumbling
in the darkness, and opened the cloth in which
was wrapped the food she had brought him.


There was a little bottle with something in it.
It was tea, and Jack, as he drank a long draught
of it, felt an almost animal gratitude in the
quenching of his parching thirst. Presently he
began eating some of the food, and before he
knew it he had made a hearty meal.
For a while the eating distracted his mind,
and his troubles lay big and dumb, brooding
within him; but after he had finished the food
and sat again in the humming silence, it came
back to him with a renewed and overwhelming
keenness. He bowed his head over on his
knees; recollections of the delight of the day
came over him. The ending that had come to
it all made his present sudden fate seem all the
more pitiful and tragic. He felt the hot drops
welling bigger and bigger under his burning
eyelids, and then one dropped upon his hand
and trickled slowly down across it.

CHAPTER XXII.
THE ESCAPE.
IT seemed to Jack that he did not sleep, but
vision-like recollections of the happenings of
the day skimmed ceaselessly through his tired
brain. Now he saw the hot stretch of clearing
as he had seen it that afternoon -the quiver-
ing, pulsing air, the distant river and the blue
further shore, the slanting sun; again and again
he dreamed that he struggled with his master.
Sometimes he dreamed that the next day had
come and that his master had forgiven him.
But through all these dreams there ever loomed
big and terrible in the background of his half-
consciousness the fate that he knew awaited
him in the morning, and he would awaken to
find his dreams dissolved into the black and
terrible reality in which there was no spark of
hope!
Suddenly he was startled from one of these
half-waking dreams by the noise of a key rat-
tling in the lock. It sounded loud in the dead
silence, and he started up widely and keenly
awake. "Who's there?" he whispered, and
then the door opened and the yellow gleam of
a candle cut a square in the darkness. It was
Mrs. Pitcher.
"Why, Mrs. Pitcher, is that you?" said he.
"Yes," said she, "'t is I; but be quiet."


1039






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


"What time of night is it ? said Jack.
"Why 't is early yet-not more than nine
o'clock, I reckon."
"Is that all ? said Jack.
She set her candle down upon the brick floor,
and stood for a while regarding Jack, her arms
akimbo. "Well," she said at last," 't is all your
own fault that you 're here, and none of my
business. I told you not to go away from home
with Dennis; but you did go in spite of all, and
now you see what 's come of it. By rights I
should let you alone; but, no, here I be," and
she tossed her head. Well," she went on," I 'm
not going to stand by and see you beat half to
death, and that 's all there be of it."
Jack shuddered. Mrs. Pitcher's latter words
made his looming terrors start out in dread-
ful distinctness. "What do you mean, Mrs.
Pitcher ?" said he, hoping dumbly that he had
somehow misunderstood.
"Why," said she, I mean that his honor's
in such a state of mind I would n't trust him
not to have you whipped to pieces out of pure
wantonness. I don't know what 's got into him.
He 's been away from home somewhere, and
something 's gone wrong. I 've been talking
to him ever since he sent you here, but he won't
listen to anything. I 've seen him in bad humors,
but I never saw him in as black a humor as
he 's in to-night. If he sets on you to-morrow
he '11 never stop till he finishes you, and that I
do believe."
Jack could not speak; his heart shrunk and
thrilled, and his ears hummed. He sat looking
at her in the light of the candle, with his breath
choking hot and dry in his throat.
Well," Mrs. Pitcher burst out at last, I 've
thought it all over and I 've made up my mind.
I dare say I 'm a fool for my pains, but I 'm
going to let you get away. For the long and
short of it is that I sh'a'nt stay by and see ye
beat to pieces. After Dennis had locked you
up, his honor must needs send for him, and
asked where you was and if you was safe, and
then he must needs have the keys in his own
pockets. He was dead tired, and so went to
bed awhile ago; and I 've just contrived to
steal the keys out of his pockets. So now I 'm
going to let you go-I am."
Oh, Mrs. Pitcher!" cried Jack hoarsely. It


did not seem possible to him that escape had
really come. His mouth twitched and writhed,
and his throat choked, and it was all he could do
to keep from breaking down. But how about
you ? he said, wiping his hand across his eyes.
Never you mind about me," said Mrs. Pit-
cher angrily. "You mind your own business and
I '11 mind my business. I ain't going to see you
whipped, that 's all there is about it. So you
just mind your business, and I '11 mind mine."
"But where '11 I go after you let me out,
Mrs. Pitcher?"
"Why," said she, "that you '11 have to settle
for yourself. 'T is as much as I can do to let
you go." She stooped down as she spoke, and,
by the light of the candle, unlocked the fetter
around his leg. All I know is," she continued,
"that you must go away from here. Now go,
and don't you lag about any longer. If his
honor should chance to wake and find his keys
gone, and have any suspicion you 'd got away,
't would be a worse lookout for you than
ever-not to speak of myself."
It was not until Jack stood up free of his
chains that he realized that he. was really free.
" I '11-I '11 never forget what you 've done for
me," said he in a choking voice, "as long as
ever I live."
There, you go now," said she, as she pushed
him roughly out the cell. "As for me, don't you
think anything about me, Jack; I '11 do well
enough. Now you go."
"Good-by, Mrs. Pitcher," said Jack; "won't
you say good-by ? "
"No, I won't," said she. "You go as I tell ye
to." And then he turned and ran off through
the darkness.
He ran some little distance before he stopped.
Then he began thinking. Where was he to go?
It was all very well for him to escape, but how
was he to escape, and where was he to escape
to? He stood still thinking and thinking.
Then he wondered if Dennis would not help
him in his need. Without any especial aim he
crept around back of the group of huts. He
could see that there was a faint light in Dennis's
cabin. Some one was singing in the darkness
beyond. It was Little Coffee chanting in his
high-pitched voice. Jack walked slowly and
cautiously toward the sound of the singing, and


1040






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


presently he could distinguish the outline of
Little Coffee's form against the sky. He was
sitting perched upon the fence. "Coffee!"
whispered Jack, "Little Coffee!" but Little
Coffee did not hear him, and continued his bar-
baric chant, which seemed to consist chiefly of
a repetition of the words, "White man came
to de gum-tree-possum he go way." Little
Coffee!" whispered Jack again, and then in-
stantly the singing ceased.
"Who dar ? said Little Coffee presently,
and Jack could see that he had turned his face
toward him in the darkness.
"Hush!" whispered Jack, "'T is me -
Jack."
"Who ? Jack? Dat you, boy?" whis-
pered Little Coffee.
"Yes," answered Jack.
Little Coffee jumped down instantly from the
fence, and came in the darkness toward Jack's
voice. "How you git away?" said he to
Jack. Dey say Massa Dennis chain you up
and lock you up. How you git out, boy?"
Never mind that," said Jack. "'T is enough
that I got out, and here I am. Come out here,
Coffee, away from the cabins; somebody '11 hear
us next."
He led the way down toward the edge of
the bluff, and Little Coffee followed him for a
while in an amazed silence. What you going
to do now, boy ? he asked after a little while.
Jack did not answer immediately. "I 'm
going to run away," he said at last.
"You run away ?" said Little Coffee, in-
credulously. Jack did not reply. "How you
going to run away, anyhow?" asked Little
Coffee.
I am going to go off in a boat," said Jack.
You no run away, boy," said Little Coffee.
"Yes, I will, too," said Jack; and then he
added almost despairingly, I 've got to run
away, Little Coffee. I wonder if the oars are
down by the skiff? "
"Yes, um be," said Little Coffee. "I see
Kala prop de oars up again de bank when he
come in from de fish-nets. Where you run away
to, anyhow ?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Jack. "I wish you
would n't bother me so, Little Coffee. First of
all I 'm going over the river to Bullock's Land-
VoL. XXI.-131.


ing," he added. I don't know where I'll go
then-most likely down to North Carolina.
That 's where all the runaways go. I '11 try
to get to England from there."
Little Coffee looked solemnly at him in si-
lence for a while. "I be no more 'fraid to run
away dan you be afraid to run away," said he
at last.
"Would n't you?" said Jack eagerly. "Then
you shall go along with me if you choose."
He grasped at the chance of a companion in
his escape, for now that every step brought him
more nearly face to face with what he had to
do, he began to see what a hard thing it was to
undertake. It seemed to him that if he had
some one with him it would make it easier for
him. The two stood looking out across the
water. From the edge of the bank bluff where
they stood the river stretched away irast and
mysterious into the distance. The rude dug-
out canoe in which Kala had rowed over to the
nets was lying drawn up upon the shore. Jack
could see its form, big and shapeless, in the
darkness. He descended the steps to the
beach followed by Little Coffee. The oars
still stood leaning against the bench where
Kala had left them. Jack gathered them up
and. took them down to the dugout. Some
water had leaked through the cracks into the
boat, and before he pushed it off he bailed it
out with the leather dipper. Little Coffee
stood looking silently at the preparations he was
making. "You going to run away for sure ? "
he said at last.
"Why, don't you see I am ? said Jack.
"Why den," said Little Coffee, "you very
foolish to run away; I no run away with you,
boy."
"What 's that ?" said Jack, standing up
abruptly and facing Little Coffee. "What's
that ? Why, you just now said that you 'd run
away with me if I went."
"I no say dat," said Little Coffee; "I say
maybe I run away." And then he burst out
indignantly, "Guess you tink me fool, boy -
talk of my running away dat way "
"And so you 'd let me go alone, would
you ? said Jack bitterly. "I would n't treat
you that way, Little Coffee. Here, help me
push the boat off, anyhow."


894.]1


1041






JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.


Little Coffee sprang eagerly enough to lend
him a hand. As the two pushed the clumsy
boat off into the water, Jack stepped into it.
He placed the oars carefully in the rowlocks,
and seated himself in the boat. All around him
was the night and the water. The bluff bank
seemed big against the sky. He could see
Coffee's dim form standing upon the shore.
He sat resting, without pulling the boat off.
"Won't you go with me, Little Coffee? said
he, making a last appeal.
Um, um! Little Coffee grunted in the
negative.
The water lapped and gurgled against the
side of the boat, and the current drifted it
slowly around against the shore. Jack still


hesitated and lingered. He had not until then
fully realized what he had undertaken to do.
For one moment of failing courage he told
himself that he would go back and face what
he would have to face the next day; and then,
with a rush of despair, he recognized how im-
possible it would be to face it. If Mr. Parker
would only be merciful,- ever so little merci-
ful,- he would not have to go. "I believe
you be 'fraid to run away, after all," said Little
Coffee from where he stood.
The jar of the sneering words roused Jack
to action.
"Good-by, Little Coffee," said he, hoarsely,
and then he dipped the oars into the water
and pulled off from the shore into the night.


(To be continued )


"IF THEY ONLY WOULD N'T SCREAM SO, I COULD BE OVER BEFORE THEY GET HERE!"


1042










THE LIONS OF THE SEA.
(Ninth fafer of the series "Mammals of North A merica.")

BY W. T. HORNADAY.


NORTH AMERICA possesses a fine fauna of
Sea Lions and Seals. A series of family groups
which would properly represent each of our
"fin-footed" (pinniped) species would fill an
immense room, as large as the largest mammal
hall in any one of our American museums.
And what a grand display such a series would
make! Beginning with the two monster Wal-
ruses from the Atlantic and Pacific, there would
be Steller's Sea Lion, almost as large as the
Walrus, the Fur Seal, the Californian Sea Lion,
the Sea Elephant, and eight more species of
true Seals, some of them very large and of re-
markable form.
I hope the time will soon come when Con-
gress will give the National Museum the money
for another building, in which there may be
abundant room for the display of mounted
specimens of our fast-vanishing quadrupeds:
where an entire hall can be devoted to our
pinnipeds, and another to our large hoofed
animals. Now our entire mammalian fauna
is packed and jammed into a single hall not
one third large enough for it.
The Sea Lions and Seals are all amphibious
flesh-eaters, belonging to the fin-footed family
of the Order Carnivora, and in their habits and
modes of life are very much alike. They all
live upon fish and cuttlefish, of which they con-
sume great quantities. Nature has divided
these creatures into two great groups. The
higher, called. the Eared-Seal Family, is so
called because its members rejoice in the pos-
session of tiny, sharp-pointed external ears,
while the true Seals have no external ears what-
ever. But there is another difference in form
which to my mind seems more conspicuous and
important than the presence or absence of an
ear smaller than a postage-stamp.
For front feet the Sea Lion has a pair of long,
very flat, triangular, clawless, and hairless black
paddles, while the true Seal has a thick, short,


blunt-ended, and hairy front flipper, armed with
five good, stout claws. Remember this, and
when you see a seal-like animal that is strange
to you, look at his front feet, and they will tell
you in an instant whether that animal is a Sea
Lion or Seal.
I trust the reader will recognize the utter im-
possibility of doing justice to this great group
of animals within the limits of even two papers
in a magazine. It is impossible to do more
than give a brief sketch of each species, like a
magic-lantern view on a curtain, leaving the
thousand and one interesting details to be
supplied in some other manner.
STELLER'S SEA LION is the king of the pin-
(E,,-me-to'i-as stel'ler-i) nipeds. Unlike nearly
all other sea animals
that have been gloriously misnamed after fa-
miliar land quadrupeds, his appearance is quite
lion-like, particularly his massive head and fe-
rocious countenance, and his powerful neck
covered with long, coarse hair of a tawny gray
color. While he does not roar quite so thun-
derously as the king of the desert, he roars
much oftener, and more universally. In tem-
per he is more lion-like than the lion himself,
for the old males are continually fighting and
cutting each other with their long teeth in a
way that real lions never dream of. They are
timid and afraid in the presence of their mas-
ter, man; but so is the lion also, for that mat-
ter, though he is not a stupid idiot, like the
Sea Lion.
Steller's Sea Lion is at home in various places
in North America, from the Farallone Islands
and Point Reys, near San Francisco, northward
along the Pacific coast to the Pribilof Islands.
He loves the most rugged and rocky shores,
where the breakers thunder unceasingly against
the foot of tall black cliffs. It is on the Pribi-
lof Islands, however, that this animal may be
seen in the greatest numbers and at his best.


1043






THE LIONS OF THE SEA.


The herds that make that wild spot their home
number many thousand individuals. The herd
that frequents the northeast point of St. Paul's
Island is drawn upon by the natives for food
and other purposes as regularly as if it were a


themselves fairly inland, with all chance of es-
cape cut off.
The groups of from twenty to fifty caught
thus each night are driven up on to the level
ground, and held until from three to five hun-


-- -
MOWe


STELLER'S SEA LIONS.


big herd of cattle. In Mr. Elliott's time that
one herd is said to have contained between
18,ooo and 20,000 head.
At the close of the fur-seal-killing season, the
natives proceed to lay in their winter's supply
of meat. A number of picked men go to North-
east Point, steal down to the shore in the dead
of night, and crawl along at the water's edge
until a line of men is disposed between the
sleeping herd and the water. At a given sig-
nal the men all spring to their feet, yell, dis-
charge pistols, and terribly frighten the sleeping
Sea Lions. Those that lie with their heads to-
ward the water plunge forward and quickly dis-
appear, but those headed landward naturally
enough start forward away from the uproar.
Being continually urged on they soon find


dred have been taken, when the grand drive
begins. Then the whole herd is actually driven
ten miles overland to the village. According
to the condition of the weather, the drive re-
quires from six days to three weeks, but in the
end every Sea Lion who does not die of heat
or exhaustion on the road actually carries his
own carcass to market.
This animal yields about the same class of
products as does the walrus, described in the
preceding paper; and its flesh forms the prin-
cipal food of all the natives of the fur-seal isl-
ands. The skin is thickly covered with coarse
stiff hair of a brownish-yellow color, but it is
destitute of fur," and hence is of no value in
our market.
Steller's Sea Lion is about twice the size of


1044


---- Crrr-l-- ~--.,_-.- -I--~- r -.~


~--I?


~ ~i~-?~ipEE-
~7T~er~_~e"5a~8;~
~"~5~-~Ee";;gE~-_-

Pp



~"~."
j~PL~:


~6~e~Y i



rl






LIONS OF THE SEA.


the Fur Seal, the old male being from ten to
eleven feet in total length, from eight to nine
feet in girth, and it weighs on an average about
1200 pounds. The females are not quite half
as large, in actual bulk, as the males. Although
cowardly in their disposition toward man, the
males are among themselves the fiercest fighters
in the world. It is hard to obtain an old speci-
men whose neck is not cris-crossed all over by
long, deep gashes, or old scars, made by the
powerful teeth of jealous rivals.
Closely resembling Steller's Sea Lion is the
CALIFORNIAN SEA LION, the slim fellow in the
animal show who climbs up out of the water,
all black and shiny,
CALIFORNIAN SEA LION. points his long thin
(Za-lo'phtus Cal-i-for-ni-a'nus.) neck straight upward,
gazes at the top of his cage, and bawls out,
Hoke! Hoke! Hoke!" until all the little
boys outside the tent are fairly wild to get in.


two species come together, the difference be-
tween them was for years quite overlooked.
Nevertheless, the points of difference between
them are very marked.
The Californian Sea Lion is only about half
the size of the preceding species. The male
has less development of neck, less abundant
hair, and, being much lighter in build, is more
active in movement. Indeed, if reports are
true, we may truthfully call this creature the
champion climber and jumper of all the pinni-
peds in the world. Captain Scammon states
that on Santa Barbara Island the old male Sea
Lions are in the habit of climbing to the tops of
the bold rocky cliffs that abound on .its coast,
and lying there for days at a time--to enjoy
the scenery, perhaps! What is stranger still,
these wonderful creatures when attacked or
thoroughly alarmed, will take flying leaps from
the tops of those same cliffs into the sea.


CALIFORNIAN SEA LIONS.
In form and habits this animal so closely re- Captain Scammon relates how he and his
sembles the smaller specimens of Steller's Sea crew once cornered a herd of about twenty old
Lion that on the Farallone Islands, where the male Sea Lions who "were collected on the


1045





THE LIONS OF THE SEA.


brink of a precipitous cliff, at a height of at least
sixty feet above the rocks which shelved from
the beach below. Our men were sure, in their
own minds, that by surprising the animals we
could drive them over the cliff. This was
easily accomplished; but to our chagrin, when
we arrived at the point below where we ex-
pected to find the huge beasts disabled or
killed, the last animal of the whole rookery was
seen plunging into the sea."
The Californian Sea Lion is found only on
the coast of California and the peninsula of
Lower California, and its two centers of great-
est abundance are the Farallone Islands, near
San Francisco, and Santa Barbara Island. In
former years, immense numbers were killed for
their oil, but that has ceased to be a paying in-
dustry. Owing to the fact that they are pro-
tected by law, they have become so numerous
around the Cliff House, the Heads, and in San
Francisco Bay, that their wholesale destruction
of valuable food fishes is bitterly complained of
by the fishermen of San Francisco.
Of all pinnipeds, this species is the most
noisy. "On approaching an island or point
occupied by a numerous herd," says Captain
Scammon, one first hears their long, plaintive
howlings, as if in distress; but when near them
the sounds become more varied and deafening.
The old males roar so loudly as to drown the
noise of the heaviest surf among the rocks and
caverns, and the younger of both sexes croak


BABY SEA LION.


hoarsely, or send forth sounds like the bleating
of sheep, or the barking of dogs. In fact, their
tumultuous utterances are beyond description."
In the water, the body of this creature ap-
pears to be a shiny dark brown, but when the
skin is mounted and dried in a museum collec-
tion, the hair is found to be thin, coarse, very
stiff, and of a dirty brownish-yellow color. The
figures in the accompanying illustration are
from instantaneous photographs taken from life
by Mr. C. H. Townsend.
The FUR SEAL (its name should be Furry
(Cal -o-ta'ri-a ur-si'na) Sea Lion) is the most cele-
brated of all our fur-bearers,
and the United States Government has been
as active in protecting it from destruction as it
was indifferent to the fate of the buffalo mil-
lions. If our great international dispute with
England and Canada over the Fur Seal had
arisen seventy years ago, before the days of


BREEDING ROOKERY OF SEA LIONS.


1046






LIONS OF THE SEA.


peaceful arbitration, there would surely have
been a war over it. Nor is our interest in our
Fur Seal to be wondered at when we stop to
consider that from 1870 to 1890 our national
treasury received $6,000,000 from the Alaska
Commercial Company as royalty on the ani-
mals killed (six sevenths of the purchase-price
of Alaska). When to this we add the amount


sisted upon taking Fur Seals by shooting them
in the open sea, by which wasteful process
seven were lost for every three secured. But
if it were not for the loss of money revenue de-
rived from this animal, it is quite certain the
Government would have allowed the wasteful
slaughter to go on until the last Seal was dead.
The Fur Seal is not a true Seal by any means,


FUR SEALS.


received in a twenty per cent. import duty on
the dressed skins as they came back to us from
the English dyers, the total revenue derived
from the Fur Seal in twenty years amounts to
the enormous sum of $8,500,000. Such an
animal was worth saving from destruction. No
other quadruped ever became such a bone of
contention between two great nations for a long
period, the discussion winding up with a high
and mighty conference of arbitration.
As usual, the whole trouble arose through the
greediness of a few irresponsible and lawless in-
dividuals. The sealers of the Pacific coast in-


but a Sea Lion, with naked, paddle-shaped flip-
pers and tiny ears. It is about two thirds the
size of the Zalophus, -and is therefore the small-
est member of the Sea Lion family. Mr. Elliott
gives the average length of the full-grown male
animal as six feet from nose to tail, and weight
from 350 to 500 pounds. The average length
of the adult female is a trifle over four feet,
and weight from 62 to 75 pounds. When dry,
the coat is of a dark, steel-gray color, and only
the coarse, stiff outer hair is visible. Under-
neath this lies a dense coat of very fine and soft
light-brown fur, in which lies all the value of the


1047





LIONS OF THE SEA.


skin. In preparing the pelt, the coarse outer
hair is entirely removed, and the underlying fur
is dyed a shiny, lustrous black, and sheared
down very evenly. For some mysterious rea-
son, we, the people of Yankee ingenuity," are
actually unable to dye seal fur successfully,
and this work is from sheer necessity sent to
England. When it comes back, there is a high
rate of duty to pay, which in addition to the
original royalty of $10.22 paid to the Govern-
ment by the North American Commercial Com-
pany for every skin taken, the very long bill of
transportation charges, labor, and profits all
along the line, from the back of the seal to that
of the fortunate wearer, accounts for the price
of from $250 to $600 on a seal-skin cloak.
In its habits the Fur Seal is a remarkable
creature. With 3000 miles of coast to land
upon if it chose, this strange and perverse ani-
mal now refuses to set flipper upon any portion
of the whole North American continent, island
or mainland, save the two little dots of land in
Bering Sea, St. Paul and St. George Islands,
known to the world collectively as the Pribilof
Islands. St. Paul is seven miles by fourteen,
and St. George is only five and a half by thirteen.
And yet, when Mr. Elliott made his careful
and elaborate surveys of all the "rookeries," or
herding-grounds on those islands, in July, 1873,
and laboriously calculated the number of their
fin-footed inhabitants, he found there the aston-
ishing number of 3,193,420 Fur Seals. Like
sheep in a pen, they actually crowded one
another on the sloping shores of sand, or water-
worn boulders, or tables of slaty-blue basalt.
Each burly old male appears a giant beside the
females and young males gathered around him.
In the accompanying illustration, drawn from
one of the admirable series of photographs
taken each year by Mr. C. H. Townsend for
the United States Fish Commission, several old
males with their respective groups are seen in
the foreground.
The Fur Seal herds visit the Pribilof Islands
in July of each year. There the young Seals
are born. They depart in October, going south-
ward into the open sea. From October to July
they remain in the open ocean, feeding on cut-


tlefish, and sleeping at the surface of the water.
It is strange that storms and long-continued
rough weather do not drive them ashore, as
they drive the sea-otter.
During the period before seal-shooting at sea
became a regular business for dozens of vessels,
the Alaska Commercial Company owned for
twenty years the lease of the Fur Seal islands,
and was permitted by the Government to take
1oo,ooo Seals each year, on which the Company
paid a revenue of $2 per skin, besides various
extras. In 1890 the North American Commer-
cial Company was the highest bidder for the
lease, and secured the concession, with the privi-
lege of taking 60,000 Seals per annum, paying
therefore $10.22 per skin. But the high contract-
ing parties reckoned without counting in the
poacher, who has so fearfully reduced the total
number of Fur Seals that the Government has
been compelled to order the suspension of all
operations save the annual killing of 7500 Seals
for food purposes. Thanks to this, and to the
agreement between the United States and Eng-
land that the Fur Seal "must and shall be pre-
served," we may presently hope to see the spe-
cies as abundant as it was ten years ago. Three
times during the rule of the Russians, in 1805,
1822, and 1834, did this animal narrowly escape
extermination, but was saved each time by a simi-
lar cessation of hostilities for a period of years.
On July 20, 1893, it was calculated that there
were in round numbers about 1,ooo,ooo Seals
still surviving on the Pribilof Islands.
Now that all seal-killing on the Pribilof Isl-
ands, save for food, has been effectually stopped,
five years more should witness such a marked
increase in the total number, that sealing opera-
tions may be resumed, and the annual crop of
sacks, cloaks, and other garments be gathered
as heretofore, when seal-poaching was an infant
industry.
Unfortunately, seal-poaching has not, as yet,
been entirely suppressed, and the products of
this species of piracy on the high seas, together
with the skins taken by the Russians on the
Commander Islands, will still keep the fur
market partially supplied with skins of the
Furry Sea Lion.


1048



















BY OLIVER HERFORD.


VERY dark the autumn sky,
Dark the clouds that hurried by;
Very rough the autumn breeze
Shouting rudely to the trees.


Listening, frightened, pale, and cold,
Through the withered leaves and mold
Peer'd a violet all in dread-
"Where, oh, where is spring?" she said.

Sighed the trees, "Poor little thing!
She may call in vain for spring."
And the grasses whispered low,
We must never let her know."

"What 's this whispering ?" roared the
breeze,.
Hush! a violet! sobbed the trees,
VOL. XXI.- 132.


"Thinks it 's spring-poor child, we fear
She will die if she should hear!"


SSoftly stole the wind
away,
Tenderly he mur-
mured, "Stay!"
To a late thrush on
the wing,
S" Stay with her one
day and sing!"

Sang the thrush so sweet and clear
That the sun came out to hear,
And in answer to her song,
Beamed on violet all day long.

And the last leaves here and there
Fluttered with a spring-like air,
Then the violet raised her head -
Spring has come at last!" she said.


Happy dreams had violet
All that night--but happier yet,
When the dawn came dark with snow,
Violet never woke to know.


WM////IJW//MX// /Z A_


/m. -
B'/ i











"TIGER'S" MERRY-GO-ROUND.

BY FRANK DELLAN.


"LITTLE JULIUS SAW HIMSELF WITHIN A CIRCLE OF STRANGE CREATURES."


IF "Tiger" himself were to tell the story of
the mishaps that befell him on a certain sunny
day of last September, he might begin by saying
that his ill luck was all owing to the curiosity of
the young turkeys. Such curiosity, to be sure, is
very likely to cause mischief, but in this case it
may as well be said at once that it was his own
weakness for fish that got Tiger, Mrs. Stratton's
fine gray cat, into trouble.
But the turkeys did begin it; and it was in
this way: As the day was a very fine one, and
the ground perfectly dry, even under the old ap-
ple-trees behind the kitchen, Annie, the colored
cook, took her baby boy into the yard and set
him down on the grass; she gave him a tin pan
and some apples to play with, called him her
"little rosebud," kissed him, and returned to
her work. She went into the cool cellar and
brought up a fine bluefish which Mr. Stratton
had caught that very morning.
Now, cats like the flavor of bluefish, and Tiger


having grown up near the sea-shore had become.
particularly fond of them; besides, he had had
poor luck of late in hunting mice, so the sight
of the fish filled him with the most pleasant
thoughts, and with eager air he trotted close
after Annie into the kitchen. There he took
his place on the window-sill, from which he
could see the work, and waited patiently while
Annie was making the fish ready for dinner.
But ill luck would have it that there should
be an interruption. Little Julius enjoyed him-
self well enough on the grass: the sunlight
flickering through the apple-trees fell on his
shiny black skin and on his pink gown; the
glitter of the tin pan and the bright color of the
apples made him crow with delight. So it is
not to be wondered at that the little fellow pres-
ently became an object of interest to others in
the yard. Ten young turkeys were straying near
the small black boy with the pink dress and
the bright tin pan. The mother turkey did


1050





"TIGER'S" MERRY-GO-ROUND.


not seem to approve, but her anxious "peeps "
were unheeded and her inquisitive young ones
cautiously came nearer and nearer to the unsus-
pecting baby; and when little Julius happened
to look up from the small black face he had dis-
covered in the bottom of the pan, he saw him-
self within a circle of strange creatures, with legs
very long and slender, with glossy coats of fea-
thers that shone like metal in the sun, and heads
all stretched out toward him. To a boy of his
small size and little experience this must have
seemed very alarming; the young turkeys looked
so very tall and fierce, their faces so red and
angry, and their foolish way of craning their
necks and fixing on him now the right eye and
now the left were to him mysterious and threat-
ening. It took him a few moments to realize
his danger, then he gave a terrified scream and,
losing his balance, toppled over backward. The
tin pan went over with him and mercifully hid
from him the flapping of wings and the scurry
of the scared turkeys.
Annie heard her baby's scream and rushed
from the kitchen. The bluefish was left on the
table, and so it was that Tiger came to face a
great temptation. He had not thought of doing
mischief; he had been looking on, blinking in a
contented way, possibly indulging in pleasant
dreams of the coming feast. But when the fish
was left unguarded under his very nose, Tiger's
savage instincts suddenly awoke and he forgot
his training. He pounced upon the fish and
fastened his teeth into it with a fierce growl.
Great was Annie's dismay when she returned
to find Tiger and the bluefish gone; and greater
was her anger when a growl from under the
table betrayed the robber, actually glaring at
her as he clutched his prey. Then followed
some bad minutes for Tiger; further enjoyment
of the fish was not to be thought of. Warned of
the coming storm by the flood of fierce language
that was poured upon him, he managed by his
quickness and agility to dodge rolling-pin and
broom-handle, and finally to escape by the open
window. Annie's threats and abuse followed
him into the yard.
The uproar brought Mrs. Stratton from the
sitting-room. Never let that thievish cat
come into the kitchen again," she said, when
the outrage had been explained to her; "and


do not give him anything to eat for at least a
week; when he is hungry let him go to the
barn and catch mice."
This last was just what Tiger meant to do.
Even without having heard Mrs. Stratton's se-
vere sentence, he felt that the house was not
the place for him, and he strolled toward the
barn in a roundabout way, often looking back,
as if he half dreaded further pursuit. Perhaps
he felt as he licked his chops that the bare taste
of the fish, which was all he had got, was not
worth the disgrace and punishment that fol-
lowed. He was cross, and when a friendly
young rooster came near, Tiger made a vicious
pass at him; luckily the sharp claws did not
reach their aim, and the startled fowl hurried
to put himself at a safe distance.
To sit quietly near a hole and wait for a
mouse to appear calls for coolness and pa-
tience; a short trial showed Tiger that it did
not accord with the mood he was in. After
some thought and much nervous lashing of his
tail, he was brought to a decision by the sight
of Mr. Stratton, with a whip under his arm,
walking toward the barn. Tiger resolved to go
to the wind-mill, where his chances of getting
some mice would be better, besides which there
was a possibility of catching a young sparrow
or swallow on the way.
The trip to the wind-mill was not, however, a
purely pleasant task; in the first place, the tall
mill itself was not a homelike, familiar place,
like a house or a barn, particularly on windy
days when the four great sails were going
around with a creaking noise, up on one side










'TIGER' AND THE BLUEFISH.
and down on the other, flinging shadows that
hurried over the ground and up along the sides,
while from within the building came great rum-
bling and buzzing sounds. Another trouble
was the fact that Mr. Hedges, the miller, had a


1051






1052


TI'ER PRETENDED NOT TO HEAR JACK-S BARK.
" TIGER PRETENDED NOT TO HEAR JACK'S BARK."


dog. This dog, "Jack," was in Tiger's eyes an
ugly and dangerous brute. But Tiger was no
coward; his fears of the sails were simply ner-
vous, and he was not the cat to go out of his
way to avoid a dog. So he set out for the mill.
But it was one of those days when everything
seems to go wrong. Over the corn-field Tiger
saw that the sails were not at rest, but wheeling
around in a brisk wind; and when opposite the
miller's house, although he kept himself care-
fully in the high grass, he was espied by Jack,
who challenged him with a sharp bark. Tiger
pretended not to hear this, and passed slyly on
beyond the mill, to deceive the dog, who, as he
well knew, would object to his hunting there,
although it was sheer malice on Jack's part to
grudge his neighbor a few mice, for the miller's
cat was old and lazy and he himself despised
any smaller game than rats.
At length, by keeping under cover of the
beach-plum and bay bushes, Tiger reached his
goafand soon took up a position near a prom-
ising-looking hole by the shady side of the
shingled mill; this happened to be also on the
leeward side, so that the huge arms as they
wheeled around were not in his sight. It was
a good, quiet place to compose his ruffled


I,

*1 1/

-~,/ //
7,,
77


11y

-, I ,- I LI

"TIGER DID A DESPERATE THING." (SEE NEXT PAGE.)

rise on which stood the mill, caught sight of the
unsuspecting cat calmly seated, his nose toward
the mouse-hole and his back toward the com-


"TIGER'S" MERRY-GO-ROUND. [OCT.

nerves. Tiger no longer felt too restless to lie
in wait, so he tucked his feet comfortably under
Shis body, curled his tail around them, and set-
tied down to await some foolish mouse.
But the wind-mill mice were probably well
Sil fed and in the habit of taking noonday naps,
for not the tip of a nose or the faintest squeak
came from the hole. Tiger grew drowsy.
Luckily for himself, he did not fall quite asleep,
for he was in more danger than the mice for
whom he had set an ambush. Jack, the cross
terrier, divining the poacher's intentions, was
stealing a march on him. Without a growl of
warning he had crossed the road from the
miller's house and, noiselessly gaining the little





"TIGER'S" MERRY-GO-ROUND.


1053


ing danger. With a startling yell Jack sprang
toward his victim.
It was shabby of Jack to take Tiger off his
guard, and it is not a matter of the slightest re-
proach to the courage of Tiger that, roused to
his peril at the last moment, he gave
a desperate bound and fled.
It was a race for life! Around
the mill they flew-there was no
tree, no place of refuge near, but
Tiger's smaller size gave him an
advantage on the circular race-
track. Five times the race had --
gone around the mill when sud-
denly Tiger did a desperate thing. -.
The lower end of one of the great
sails happened to sweep near the
ground just ahead of him; he .i I
made a great forward and upward S
bound, clutched the framework and
canvas, and instantly was borne
aloft toward the clouds as if by
the arm of a friendly giant; it was
enough to make a cat's head swim,
but Tiger was safe if he could keep
his hold, for in a few moments the
baffled terrier was barking furiously
forty feet below him.
But presently the sail swept
downward on the other side and
lowered poor Tiger head foremost
toward his enemy's snapping teeth
-this was a critical moment. How-
ever, he managed to scramble to a
point of safety where Jack's highest
leaps failed to reach him. Around
and around he was carried on this
- giddy-go-round; rushingalongnear
the earth at one moment and sail-
ing high in the air at the next.
If it had not been such a topsy-
tuivy performance Tiger might
even have enjoyed the tantalizing IT SEE
way in which each revolution car-
ried him almost within reach of the terrier's
jaws, and excited him to the most frantic but
utterly vain leaps and yells.
Presently, too, the swallows discovered him
and evidently regarded a cat sailing along high
above the vane of the mill as an intruder and


an enemy. Their numbers grew at each turn,
and with shrill screams they wheeled around
and at him. It really seemed as if earth and
air were filled with enemies!
The end of it all might have been very seri-


MED AS IF EARTH AND AIR WERE FILLED WITH ENEMIES."

ous, but the measure of Tiger's misfortune was
at last full. A sharp whistle pierced the air;
Jack pricked up his ears -he knew his master's
call; another last vicious snap at Tiger, as he
whirled by, and Jack dashed away down the
slope and across the road to the house.


1894.]






"TIGER'S" MERRY-GO-ROUND.


Tiger's chance had come, and he made the
most of it; at the next downward turn of his
friendly sail he leaped to the firm earth, showing
very little of the reluctance with which a boy
leaves a merry-go-round. He dashed across
the open space to the corn-field, and as he dis-
appeared in its thick cover his ears caught the
distant sound of Jack's barking and of much
squealing. Tiger's ill luck had left him and
had fallen on some roving pigs that had broken
into the miller's garden and were making havoc
with the vegetables until Jack drove them out.


r:


Ilr~


Nothing was seen of the culprit for some
days; and when at last he reappeared he wore
such an air of dejection that Mrs. Stratton
charitably believed him to be truly sorry for his
fault and was willing to shorten the term of his
punishment.
And it is to be hoped that, with a reason-
able supply of mice and of other lawful dainties,
to keep his appetite within bounds, and with
proper watchfulness on Annie's part, Tiger will
never again yield to the temptation of stealing
a bluefish.


-} I
4t.*1 i


,s>,


--4 tfr>


SIR BEDIVERE BORS.

By FREDERICK B. OPPER.

SIR BEDIVERE BORS was a chivalrous knight;
His charger was proud and his armor was bright.
But he grew very stout,
So that when he rode out
He really presented a comical sight.


io54


_U ff--- "












DECATUR AND SOMERS.


BY MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.


[Begun in the May wmnber.]

CHAPTER X.
AND now, after a series of heroic adventures
which had raised the American name to the
highest point of renown, was to commence the
last, the most glorious, and the most melancholy
of them all.
It had been known for some time that, as the
season would soon compel the American squad-
ron to leave Tripoli for the winter, Commodore
Preble was eager that one great and decisive
blow might be struck before he left. True, the
Bashaw was anxious to treat, but Commodore
Preble was not the man to parley with pirates
and brigands as long as four hundred Ameri-
can captives were imprisoned in Tripolitan dun-
geons. He was the more desirous to strike this
great blow because he had discovered that the
Tripolitans were almost out of gunpowder-
which, at that time of general European warfare,
was of much value and not easy to get. The
Americans, though, were well supplied; and
this put the thought into Somers's mind of at-
tempting a desperate assault upon the shipping
and forts by means of a fire-ship, or "infernal."
He first broached the plan to Decatur, the
night after the last attack upon Tripoli. The
young captains were seated at the table in the
cabin of the Nautilus.
It was a desperate plan; and, as Somers
lucidly explained it, Decatur felt a strange
sinking of the heart. Somers, on the contrary,
seemed to feel a restrained enthusiasm, as if
he had just attained a great opportunity for
which he had long hoped.
"You see," said Somers, leaning over the
table, and fixing his smiling, dark eyes upon
Decatur, "it is an enterprise that may mean
death for us, or liberty to four hundred of our
countrymen and messmates. Who could hesi-
tate a moment to make the effort ? "


"Not you, Somers."
"I hope not: The merit of my plan is that
it requires the risking of but a few lives. Two
boats to tow the fire-ship in, four men in my
boat, and six in another boat, and one officer
besides myself-in all, twelve men. Did ever
so small a number have so great a chance of
serving their country ?"
Decatur made no reply to this; and Somers
went on to explain the details of his scheme.
Decatur aided him at every turn, advising
and discussing with a freedom that their de-
voted intimacy permitted. But, instead of the
gay impetuosity that generally characterized
Decatur, Somers was surprised to find him
grave and almost sad; while the somber
Somers was, for once, as full of enthusiasm as
Decatur usually was.
After two hours' conversation, and it not
yet being nine o'clock, Somers asked Decatur
to go with him to the flag-ship, where the plan
might be laid before the Commodore.
As soon as Commodore Preble heard that
two of his young captains wished to see him,
he at once ordered that they be shown into
the cabin. When Somers and Decatur entered,
they both noticed the grave and careworn
look worn by the Commodore. He had done
much, and the force under him had performed
prodigies of valor. But he had not succeeded
in liberating his old friend and shipmate, Bain-
bridge, and his gallant company.
When they were seated around the cabin
table, Somers produced some charts and
memoranda, and began to unfold his idea. It
was, on the first dark night, to take the ketch
Intrepid,- the very same which Decatur had
immortalized,- put -on her a hundred barrels
of gunpowder and two hundred shells; tow
her into the harbor, through the western pas-
sage, as near as she could be carried to the
shipping, hoping that she would drift into the





DECATUR AND SOMERS.


midst of the Tripolitan fleet; and then, setting
her afire, Somers and his men would take their
slender chances for escape.
Commodore Preble heard it all through, with
strict attention. When Somers had finished,
Commodore Preble looked him fixedly in the
eyes, and said: But suppose the explosion
should fail, the ketch should be captured, and
a hundred barrels of gunpowder should fall
into the hands of the Bashaw ? That would
prolong the war a year."
Have no fear, sir," answered Somers,
calmly. I promise you that, rather than per-
mit such a thing, I myself will fire the ketch if
there is no alternative but capture. And I will
take no man with me who is not willing to die
before suffering so much powder to be captured
and used against our own squadron."
"Are you willing, Captain Somers, to take
that responsibility ? "
"Perfectly willing, sir. It is no greater re-
sponsibility than my friend Captain Decatur
assumed when, in that very ketch, he risked
the lives of himself and sixty-two companions
for the destruction of the Philadelphia."
The Commodore, leaning across the table,
suddenly grasped a hand of each of his two
young captains.
"My boys," he said, with shining eyes, the
first day you sat with me at this table, the sight
of your youth, and the thought of the great
duties before you, gave me one of the most
terrible moments of discouragement I ever
suffered. I deeply regretted that I had ever
assumed charge of such an expedition, with
what I bitterly called then a parcel of school-
boy captains. Now, I can say only that you
have all turned out the best boys I ever saw,
for I cannot yet call you men."
This outburst, so unlike Commodore Preble's
usual stern, morose manner, touched both De-
catur and Somers; and Decatur said:
You see, Commodore, it is because we have
had such a good schoolmaster in the art of
war."
The conversation that followed was long and
animated; and when Decatur and Somers left
the ship, and were rowed across the dark water,
the Commodore's permission had been given
to the enterprise.


The very next morning, the squadron being
well out of sight of the town, and at anchor, the
preparation of the ketch began.
The day was a bright and beautiful one, al-
though in September, which is a stormy month
in the Mediterranean. The ketch was laid
alongside of Old Ironsides, and the transfer of
the powder and shells was begun at sunrise;
for it was characteristic of Somers to do quickly
whatever he had to do, and time was of great
consequence to him then. The men worked
with a will, knowing well enough that some
daring expedition was on hand. Wadsworth,
Somers's first lieutenant, with the assistance of
Decatur, directed the preparation of the fire-
ship, while Somers, in the cabin of the Nautilus,
arranged his private affairs, and wrote his will,
remembering well that he might never return
from that night's awful adventure. He wrote
several letters and sealed them; and then the
last one, inclosing his will, was to Decatur.
The other letters were long, but that to Decatur
was brief. It only said:
Herein is my will, which I charge you to see ex-
ecuted, if I should never come back. For yourself, dear
Decatur, I have no words that I can write. To other
men I may express my affection, and ask their forgive-
ness for any injury I have done them; but, between
you and me, there is nothing to forgive -only the re-
membrance of brotherhood ever since we were boys.
If I were to think long on this, it would make me too
tender-hearted-and when this thought" comes to me,
I can only say good-by, and God bless you.
RICHARD SOMERS.
The golden noon had come; and, as Somers
glanced through the cabin windows of the
smart little Nautilus, he could see the prepara-
tions going on aboard the ketch, anchored di-
rectly under the quarter of the splendid frigate.
Men were busy passing powder and arrang-
ing the shells, doing it all with the cool caution
of those accustomed to desperate dangers. De-
catur's tall figure was seen on the Constitution's
deck. He paced up and down with the Com-
modore, and was really unable to tear himself
away from the ship. Tears came into Somers's
eyes as he watched Decatur. Somers had no
brother, no father, and no mother--and De-
catur had been more to him all his life than he
could express.
It was well understood on the other ships


1056






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


that, except the first lieutenant of the Nautilus,
Mr. Wadsworth,-who was to command the sec-
ond boat,-no other officer would be permitted
to go. Although any and all of them would
have rejoiced to share the glory of this expedi-
tion, they knew it would be useless to ask -
that is, all except Pickle Israel, who marched
boldly up to the com-
modore, as he was pac-
ing the deck, and, touch-
ing his cap, suddenly
plumped out: "Com-
modore Preble, may I go
with Captain Somers on
the Intrepid to-night? "
Old Pepper, coolly
surveying Pickle, who
was rather small for his :
fourteen years, sternly
inquired: "What did I
understand you to say,
sir ? "
The commodore's tone
and countenance were
altogether too much
for Pickle's self-posses-
sion. He stammered,
and blushed, and finally,
in a quavering voice,
managed to get out:
"If-if-you please,
sir-m-may I go"-
and then came to a dead
halt, while Decatur could
not help smiling at him
slyly behind the com-
modore's back.
"May you go aloft
and stay there for a
watch ? snapped Old Pepper, who suspected
shrewdly what Pickle was trying to ask.
"Am I to understand that is what you are
after ? "
No, sir," answered Pickle, plucking up his
courage, and, putting on a defiant air, as he
caught sight of Decatur's smile, while Danny
Dixon, who had been sent on a message, and
had come back to report, stood grinning broadly
at the little midshipman.
"No, sir," repeated Pickle, with still more
VOL. XXI.- 133.


boldness, I came to ask if I might go on the
Intrepid with Captain Somers, to-night! "
Has Captain Somers asked for your services,
Mr. Israel ?" inquired the commodore, blandly.
"N-no, sir," faltered Pickle, turning very red.
"Very well, sir," replied the commodore, still
excessively polite, "until Captain Somers asks
for an officer of your age and experience, I shall
not request him to take you or any other nid-
sh[.man in the 'lqua.iron "
The truth is, Commodore," said Decatur,


"SOMERS PUT HIS HAND KINDLY ON THE BOY'S SHOULDER."
(SEE NEXT PAGE.)
who could not but respect the boy, Mr. Israel
has the courage and spirit of a man-and he for-
gets, after all, that he is a very young gentleman."
"A very young gentleman" meant really a
boy. The commodore smiled at this, and,
looking into Pickle's disappointed face, he said:


o1057






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


Never mind, Mr. Israel, although I cannot
'let you go on this expedition, your gallant desire
has not hurt you in my esteem; and the day will
come when your country will be proud of you."
True it was, and sooner-far sooner-than any
of them dreamed at that moment.
Pickle turned away, sadly. As he was going
gloomily below, he heard a step following him,
and there was Danny Dixon's hale and hand-
some face close beside him.
Mr. Israel, sir," said Danny, touching his
cap, "I wants to say as how I likes your spirit.
You ought 'a' been in the fight with Cap'n Paul
Jones, on the 'Bunnum Richard.'"
"I wish I had been, Dixon," answered Pickle,
almost crying with vexation.
Never you mind, Mr. Israel," answered
Danny, with an encouraging wink. "All the
orficers and men knows you ain't got no flunk
in you; and, if you had n't been such a little
un,-beg your parding, sir,--you 'd had a
chance, sir."
Pickle, not exactly pleased with being called
"a little un," marched off, in high dudgeon,
angry with Danny, with the commodore, with
Decatur, with the whole world, in fact--which
seemed bent on balking his dreams of glory.
However, after an hour or two of bitter reflec-
tion, it suddenly occurred to him, as a forlorn
hope, that he might yet ask Somers. As if in
answer to his wish, at that very moment he was
ordered to take a boat with a message to
Somers, saying that at eight bells a call would
be made for volunteers to man the boats.
Pickle swung himself into the boat with the
agility of a monkey, and in a few moments the
stout arms of the sailors had pulled the little
boat across the water to where the lovely Nau-
tilus lay, rocking gently on the long summer
swell of the sea. Pickle skipped over the side
and up to Somers. on the deck, like a flash of
blue light, in his trim midshipman's uniform.
His message was delivered in a few words, and
then Pickle artfully continued: "And, as there 's
to be a call for volunteers, Captain Somers, I
wish, sir,"-here Pickle drew himself up as tall
as he could,-" to offer my services."
"I am very much obliged, Mr. Israel," an-
swered Somers, courteously, and refraining from
smiling. Your courage, now, as always, does


you infinite credit. But, as only one officer
besides myself is needed, I have promised my
first lieutenant, Mr. Wadsworth, that honor."
Poor Pickle's face grew long and doleful.
He suddenly dropped his lofty tone and man-
ner, and burst out, half crying:
"That 's what all of the officers say, Cap-
tain Somers; and the next thing, maybe, the
war will be over, and I sha'n't have had a
single chance to do anything-and it 's a
hardship-I say, it 's a hardship!"
Somers put his hand kindly on the boy's
shoulder, and said: But you have already dis-
tinguished yourself as one of the smartest and
brightest young midshipmen in the squadron."
Pickle turned away, and was about to go over
the side, when Somers said:
Wait a few moments. Boatswain, pipe all
hands on deck, aft."
The boatswain, who was ready, piped up, and
in a few minutes every man of the eighty that
formed the company of the handsome brig was
"up and aft."
Somers then, with a glow on his fine face,
addressed the men, the officers standing near.
"My men," he said, "you see that ketch
yonder rightly named the Intrepid, after the
glorious use to which our brave Decatur put
her. She has on board a hundred barrels of
gunpowder, two hundred shells, and all the
apparatus for lighting these combustibles; and
to-night, if wind and tide serve, she is to
be taken into the harbor of Tripoli, and ex-
ploded among the shipping. I have obtained
charge of this expedition, and I wish my boat
manned by four men who would rather die
than be captured-for the pirates are short of
gunpowder, and they can get no more from
Europe; so that, unless they capture this, it
will be very easy work to reduce them next
spring, when we shall take another and last
whack at them. But the Intrepid must not be
captured. The commodore, on this condition
only, gave it me. I do not disguise from you
that the enterprise is one full of danger. No
man shall be ordered to go; but I want four
men to volunteer who are ready, if necessary,
to die for their country and their imprisoned
comrades this very night; and let them hold
up their right hands and say 'aye.'"


1o58






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


Every man in the brig's company held up
his hand, and their deep voices shouted, all
together, "Aye, sir."
Somers shook his head and smiled; but his
eyes shone with pleasure at the readiness of his
brave men.
"Ah," said he, I might have known. My
men, I can take only four of you. I shall take
four who have no wives or families. You," he
said to the quartermaster, "are alone in the
world-I want you: and you, and you, and
you," said Somers, walking along the line,
as he picked out three men more; and every
man smiled, and said "Thank 'ee, sir."
"You understand perfectly well," then said
Somers, addressing the four, "that this is an
undertaking of the utmost hazard. We may, in
the performance of our solemn duty, have to
light the fire that will blow us all into eternity.
There will be twelve of us; and it is better
that our lives should be sacrificed than that
hundreds, perhaps, of honored and noble lives
should be required to subdue the pirates in a
longer and severer struggle. So think well over
your engagement; and, if you are of the same
determined mind, follow my example, and leave
all your worldly affairs in order; and thin
make your peace with God for we may never
see the sun rise on another day."
Somers's solemn words had a great effect on
the men. Their enthusiasm was not lessened; but
their tone and manner changed from the jaunty
gaiety with which sailors meet danger to a seri-
ous and grave consideration of their situation.
Somers shook hands with all four men. He
then ordered his boat, and in a few moments
he was pulling toward the frigate.
Somers's words had inspired another heart
besides those of the four sailors; Pickle Israel,
with his shining eyes fixed on the bright horizon,
felt a longing, a consuming desire tugging at
his heart. Pickle, being only a boy, could not
exactly see the reason why he should not be
allowed to go on the expedition, and some
strange and overmastering power seemed to be
impelling him to go. It was not mere love of
adventure. However, Pickle said not one word
more to anybody about his disappointment.
But his face cleared up, as if he had, after
all, a secret cause of satisfaction.


On reaching the Constitution, the men were
mustered and Commodore Preble made a short
speech to them, before calling for volunteers.
"And I consider it my duty," he said, "to
tell every one of you, from Captain Somers
down, that this powder must not be suffered to
fall into the hands of the enemy. For my own
part, it is with pride and with regret that I shall
see you set forth; but, although I value your
lives more than all Tripoli, yet not even for
your lives must they get hold of this powder.
I have not asked this service of any of you.
Every man, from your captain down, has vol-
unteered. But, if you choose to take the hon-
orable risk, all I can say is, 'Go, and God
protect you.' "
As Commodore Preble spoke, the tears rose
in his eyes, and the men cheered wildly. As
on the Nautilus, the whole ship's company vol-
unteered, and six had to be chosen. To Danny
Dixon's chagrin, he was not among them.
When the men were piped down, Pickle Israel
caught sight of the handsome old quartermas-
ter going forward with a look of bitter disap-
pointment on his face.
By sunset everything was ready. Decatur
was with Somers on the 'Nautilus, and, just as
the sun was sinking, they stood together at the
gangway. It was a clear and beautiful Sep-
tember evening, with no moon, but a faint and
lovely starlight. On the dark bosom of the sea
was a gray haze that was the thing most de-
sired by Somers, to conceal the Intrepid as she
made her perilous way toward the city of the
corsairs. A light breeze ruffled the water, and
rocked the tall ships gently. As the friends
stood, watching the dying glow in the west,
Decatur was pale and agitated, while Somers,
instead of his usual gravity, wore an air of joy,
and even gaiety.
Does not this remind you, Decatur, of Del-
aware Bay, and the first evening we ever spent
as midshipmen together ? The water is almost
as blue at home as it is here, and I can quite
imagine that 'Old Ironsides' is 'Old Wagoner,'
and that the Siren, over there, is your father's
ship, the Delaware. It seems only the other
day,-and it is more than six years ago."
Decatur, unable to speak, looked at Somers
with a sort of passion of brotherly love shining


x894.]


1059






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


out of his eyes. He felt as sure as that he
was then living, that he would never see
Somers again.
The boat being ready, the four sailors were
called forward.
Somers and Decatur then went down the
ladder, following the four seamen; and at the
same moment, as if by magic, the yards of
the Nautilus were manned, and three cheers
rang over the quiet waters.
The boat pulled first to the Constitution,
where the second boat was waiting. Com-
modore Preble was standing on the quarter-
deck. Somers, with an air of unwonted gaiety,
came over the side. Going up to the com-
modore, he said pleasantly: Well, Commo-
dore, I have come for my last instructions."
The commodore could only clasp his young
captain's hand and say:
"I have given all that I have to give. I
know your prudence, and your resolute cou-
rage. You are in the hands of God-and
your country will never forget you."
As Somers, still wearing his pleasantest smile,
left the Constitution, its men also manned the
yards and cheered him. With Decatur, he
went on board the fire-ship, to take one last
look, and to wait for complete darkness, which
was now approaching. On the ketch were
Captain Stewart and Lieutenant Wadsworth -
and the four spent this last hour together.
Wadsworth, a man of vigor and determination
like Somers, was, like him, perfectly easy and
cheerful. Stewart and Decatur, who were to
follow the ketch as far in the offing as was
prudent, were both strangely silent.
Meanwhile, the Constitution's cutter had
been lowered, and, with the Nautilus's boat,
had been made fast to the frigate's side, directly
under a port in the steward's pantry. Somers,,
having determined to wait another half hour
for the blue fog, which was steadily rising on
the water, to conceal him entirely, the men had
been permitted to leave the boats. Danny
Dixon, taking advantage of this, was in the
Constitution's cutter, making a last examina-
tion, for his own satisfaction, with a lantern, of
the oars, rowlocks, etc., when, from the ship's
side above him, he heard a whisper of,
Dixon! I say, Dixon!"


Danny glanced up and saw, out of the pan-
try window, in the dusky half light, Pickle
Israel's curly head.
Now, what are you up to, Mr. Israel?"
began Danny, but a violent shaking of the
head, and a "hush-sh!" checked him.
Turn your lantern," whispered Pickle.
Danny turned the dark side round, and then
drew the boat close to the port.
When the boat was just below the port, and
Danny had raised his head to hear Pickle's
mysterious communication, the little midship-
man quickly wriggled himself out of the port,
and, swinging down by his hands, landed
silently in the boat.
Danny was so surprised that he could not
speak a word; but he at once suspected
Pickle's design-to go on the expedition.
Now, Dixon," said Pickle, in a wheedling
voice, don't go and tell on me. In fact, as
your superior officer, I direct you, on leaving
this boat, to go immediately forward, and stay
there unless you are sent for."
Danny grinned broadly at this, and grasped
Pickle's hand in his own brawny one.
I knows, sir, I knows," said he, in a de-
lighted whisper; "but I ain't a-goin' to blow
the gaff on you. I likes these 'ere venture-
some youngsters. But, Mr. Israel, I'11 have to
git out o' this 'ere boat, 'cause, if any o' them
foremast men see me here, when you is missed,
they '11 all say as how Dixon, the quartermas-
ter, was a-talkin' with you, and then the com-
modore will take my hide, sure. But, good-by,
Mr. Israel, and God bless you, as the commo-
dore says; and if you ain't but a little shaver,
let me tell you, sir, you 've got a sperit
that's fittin' to sarve under the greatest man
that ever sailed blue water."
With that, Danny wrung the little midship-
man's hand again, and, with a spring he noise-
lessly gained the ladder and disappeared.
Pickle, being very small, crawled under the
gunwale of the boat, where there was an extra.
coil of rope, spare lanterns, and other things ne-
cessary to repair damages, covered with a tarpau-
lin. These things he carefully distributed along
the boat under the gunwale, and then,'covering
himself up with the tarpaulin, made himself as
small as possible in the place of the ropes and-


io6o






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


lanterns. He had left a little hole in the tar-
paulin through which he could see; and as he
curled himself up comfortably, and fixed his eye
on this opening, there was never a happier boy.
He had succeeded perfectly, so far, in his
scheme. He thought that if any of the men
suspected he was on board, they would be in-
clined to wink at it, like Danny Dixon. And as


at Decatur's return-then would he be brought
forward, Midshipman Israel; and his name
would be in the report sent home, and every-
body would know the prodigies of valor he
had performed, and he would-no doubt-
receive a sword like Decatur's, and be made
a lieutenant. Lieutenant Israel! How charm-
ing was the sound! Pickle was so comfortable


THE EXPLOSION OF THE KETCH. (SEE PAGE 1063.)


soon as they cast off, and got the Intrepid in
tow, there would be no earthly way, as Pickle
gleefully remembered, to get rid of him. At this
idea, he almost laughed aloud; and then when
they came back in triumph, and Captain Som-
ers and Mr. Wadsworth were being congratu-
lated and almost embraced, on the Constitution's
deck, by the commodore and all the officers of
the squadron, and the men cheering like mad, as


and so happy that, unconsciously, his eyelids
drooped. How faint were the stars shining in
the quiet skies, and how gently rocked the boat
in the water! And in five minutes the little
midshipman was sleeping soundly.
An hour afterward, he was awakened by the
boat drawing up to the side of the fire-ship.
Ahead, he could see the Constitution's boat,
carrying the tow-line. The mist was denser on


io6i


pan il 14






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


the water, through which the hulls and spars of
the ships loomed darkly. The Siren and the
Argus were getting under way, and standing at
the low rail of the ketch were two dark figures,
Somers and Decatur.
Somers had taken a ring from his finger, and,
breaking it in two, gave one half to Decatur, and
put the other half in the breast of his jacket.
Keep that, Decatur," he said, "in case we
should never meet again." .Here Somers could
say no more.
Decatur put both hands on Somers's shoul-
ders, and his lips moved, but not a sound came.
He turned silently away, got into his boat, and
was quickly on board his ship.
Somers then descended; the tow-line wasmade
fast; and, with the ketch's lateen sails set so as to
catch the faint breeze, soon the "fire-ship was
making fast through the dark water. The Siren
and Argus, having got up their anchors, followed
the ketch at a distance under short canvas.
The boats and the ketch were fast leaving the
brigs astern in the murky night, when Somers,.
who was sitting in the sternsheets, felt some-
thing moving close by him, and, glancing down,
he recognized, in the uncertain light, Pickle Is-
rael's eyes, peering mischievously up at him.
"Why what is this ? he asked, amazed.
Nothing, Captain Somers-only me," an-
swered Pickle, scrambling up from under the
gunwale. I wanted to go, sir, very much,
on this expedition, just as I did on Captain
Decatur's-and nobody would let me; so
I took French leave, and came by myself."
Somers, although vexed with the boy, and
alarmed at having him on board, yet could
not but admire his pluck.
Did any man on this boat help you to get
aboard? he asked.
"No, sir," chirped Pickle, gaily, "not one of
them knew I was aboard until just now."
Somers could not help smiling at Pickle's
cunning trick. But he said gravely to the lit-
tle midshipman:
Do you understand the terrible risk we run
in this attempt, and that it will be our duty, if
in danger of capture, to blow up the ketch ? "
Perfectly, sir," answered Pickle. He sat up
straight now, in the boat, and his eyes were shin-
ing so that Somers could see them even in the


gloom. "I know that we have only a few chances
for our lives-and, Captain Somers, although I
am only a midshipman, and you are a captain, I
am as willing to risk my life for our country and
for our shipmates in prison as you are."
I believe you," answered Somers. You
are a brave boy; and, be it life or death, we
will be together."
They soon entered the offing, and, drawing
rapidly ahead, helped by wind and tide, they
reached the western passage of the harbor.
There they rested for a few minutes. Before
them, in the misty night, lay the black, masses
of the town and the encircling forts, over which
the Bashaw's castle reared its pile of towers
and bastions. They saw the twinkling lights of
the town, and those on the mastheads of the
shipping in the harbor. Near the entrance
were three low gunboats that looked unnatur-
ally large through the dim and ghostly fog that
lay upon the bosom of the sea, but left the
heavens clear and darkly blue. Behind them,
they could see the outline of the two brigs, on
which as a precaution, not a light was shining.
The fire-ship, as black as midnight, was station-
ary on the water for a moment.
The breeze had then died out, and the men
took to their oars, which were muffled. Like a
black shadow moving over the water, the ketch
advanced. The darkness of the night favored
their escaping the gunboats. They crept past
the rocks and reefs, entered the western pas-
sage, and were within the harbor of Tripoli.
The lights of the town grew plain, and they
could still see the stars, although they seemed
to be alone in a world of fog.
* Suddenly and silently, three gunboats loomed
close upon them-one on each side and one
on their bows. The men, without a word,
seized the tow-line, and drew themselves noise-
lessly back toward the ketch. As the two
American boats disappeared like shadows, and
as if they had vanished from the face of the
water, the Tripolitan gunboats closed up, and,
in another moment, the Americans found them-
selves surrounded on all sides but one by the
corsairs, and that one side was next the fire-
ship. The Tripolitans, with a yell of triumph,
prepared to spring over the side.
"Are you ready to stand to your word,


io62






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


men? asked Somers, standing up in the boat,
with a lighted torch in his hand.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered every man in both
boats, laying down his oar. "And I," called
out Wadsworth. "And I," said Pickle, in his
sweet, shrill, boyish voice.
Then may God bless our country, and have
mercy on us !" said Somers, solemnly, throwing
the torch upon the ketch's deck.
The next moment there came an explosion
as if the heavens and the earth were coming
together. The castle rocked upon its mighty
base. The ships in the harbor shivered from
keel to main-truck, and many of them careened
and almost went over. The sky was lighted
up with a red glare that was seen for a hun-
dred miles, and the deafening crash reverber-
ated, almost paralyzing all who heard it.
Those on the American ships, out in the
offing, heard the frightful roar of the hundred
barrels of gunpowder that seemed to explode
in an instant of time; and, stunned by the
concussion, they could see only the mast and
a sail of the ketch as it flew blazing up the
lurid sky, and then sank in the more lurid water.
To this succeeded an appalling blackness and
stillness. Every light on the shipping and in
the castle and the town had been extinguished
by the force of the explosion. The dense mist
of the fog had again settled upon the water;
and not a cry, not a groan, was heard from
the harbor where the thirteen brave men had
rendered up their lives for their country.
All night, at intervals, a moaning gun was
heard from the Constitution, in the vain hope
that some of those heroic souls might be yet
living. All night Decatur swung in the fore-
chains of his ship, flashing a lantern across the
water, and listening in agony, and vainly, for
some sound, some token, from the friend he
was never to see again.
But the gray dawn brought with it-despair
to him. For Somers and his brave companions
had another morning, and another and more
glorious sunrise.


Six years after this, one evening in Septem-
ber, the Constitution, which had been standing
off and over Tripoli for several days, ap-


preached the town. Since her last visit, the
Tripolitans had been effectually conquered, and
peace had long prevailed. And so highly was
the American name respected, that an Ameri-
can officer could go safely and alone all about
the town and its suburbs.
The captain's gig was lowered and manned,
and Danny Dixon was coxswain. Presently,
Decatur, in the fine uniform of a post-captain,
came down the ladder and seated himself in
the sternsheets; and the gig was rapidly pulled
toward the beach at the end of the town.
Here Decatur left the boat, and, telling Danny
that he would be back within an hour, walked
toward a clump of trees outside the wall.
It was just such an evening as that other,
six years before. The sun had gone down,
and, as yet, there was no moon; but Decatur
walked straight along the path to where the
few straggling and stunted trees made a shadow
against the white walls of the town and the
white sand of the beach.
When he reached the spot, he saw, by the
light of the stars that faintly glinted through
the leaves, a group of graves.
Decatur stood, with folded arms, at the head
of Somers's grave. As in a dream, the whole
of his early life with his friend rose and passed
before him. He remembered their boyhood
together, their happy days as careless and un-
thinking midshipmen, and the great scenes and
adventures through which they had passed be-
fore Tripoli. That night, six years before, they
had parted to meet no more in this world.
Every incident of the night returned to him,-
the horror of the explosion,- the long hours he
had spent hanging in the brig's forechains,-
the agony of the daybreak, when not a man,
or a boat, or even a spar, could be seen.
As Decatur stood by Somers's lonely grave,
he felt as if-still conversing with his friend.
"Not one has ever been-could ever be-
to me what you were, Somers," he said aloud;
"the bravest and the gentlest of men."
Then he went slowly to the head of the
smallest grave of all. He was in tears, but he
smiled, too. He seemed to see the little mid-
shipman's merry eyes, and to hear again his
boyish laughter. "How can I feel sorry for
you?" thought Decatur, as he stooped and


Io63


2894.]






DECATUR AND SOMERS.


pulled some of the shy and beautiful jasmine
blossoms that grew on the small grave, which
was almost hidden under their straggling
leaves. "You lived nobly, and died bravely.
Your life, though brief, was glorious. And you,
Wadsworth, you, too, were worthy to die with
Somers-the best and bravest."


Decatur turned again to Somers's grave, but
he could not see it for the mist of tears.
An hour afterward, a new moon rose into the
blue-black sky; and, just as its radiance touched
the resting places of the brave, Decatur turned
and walked away from the spot where slept his
best, his earliest, and his unforgotten friend.


THE END.


POOR DOROTHY TRUE.

BY MARGARET SEYMOUR HALL.


POOR little, bored little Dorothy True!
A sad little maiden with nothing to do.
There's a room to be dusted, a bed to be made,
And the eggs to be found which the bantam
has laid.


There 's a wee little boy, in the nursery near,
Who 's sobbing and crying with no one to
hear.
But poor little, bored little Dorothy True
Still sits and laments that she 's nothing to do!


Io64












THE "CHARACTERS" OF THEOPHRASTUS AND OTHERS.

BY WILLIAM JASPER NICOLLS.


THEOPHRASTUS lived and died a great many
years ago-so long ago that we can scarcely
conceive that he ever lived at all. He was an
Athenian, that is, a Greek, and a great friend
of the famous Aristotle.
He seems to have been well satisfied with
himself and his surroundings, for when he was
107 years old he complained that "life was
too short," and he went to his grave lamenting
his early end, and upbraiding Nature's partial-
ity in granting long life to the crow and the
stag, but not to man.
He was a philosopher, and loved to study
human nature, which .seems to have been very
much the same 2000 years ago as it is to-day,
judging from the results of his studies, some
bits of which have survived even to the present
time.
Theophrastus was not the name given him at
his birth. His real name was Tyrtamus, and
when he grew up and became an orator he was
so eloquent and brilliant that his friend Aris-
totle suggested a name more suitable to his
genius; so he changed it to Euphrastus, mean-
ing the "accomplished speaker," which did not
quite satisfy him, as he afterward changed it
again to the name by which we know him,
that is, Theophrastus, which means the "divine
speaker."
He seems to have been not only an accom-
plished" and divine" speaker, but also a great
writer, as he wrote with his pen, or stylus, over
200 compositions. None of them were printed
and published until hundreds of years after they
were written--not because the publishers of
those days were hard to please and unreason-
able, but simply on account of the undoubted
historical fact that printing had not yet been
invented.
We have stated that one of the studies
of Theophrastus was human- nature, and he
traced from the lines of the human face the
VOL. XXI.- 134.


character of the individual. From these de-
scriptions an artist drew faces to illustrate a
book, and this book was the constant source
of delight to a little girl called "Billie," who
was born just 2178 years after the death of
Theophrastus. She was only four years old
when she first became acquainted with the
works of this great master, and, being of the
same human kind, she properly becomes one of
the objects of study this great philosopher had
in mind. For we intend to sketch a few charac-
ters, including Theophrastus himself, some of
those he describes, and one or two others,
including Billie.
There is no comparison to make between
Theophrastus and Billie which will give us any
similar lines, excepting the incident of changing
names. In this feature they were alike. Billie
was not the name with which this child was
baptized. She was called Mary, but her father
changed it to Billie, probably because all of his
children were girls and he thought that a boy's
name in the house would be the next best thing
to having a real boy.
Billie's new name was no indication of her
character, for she was not a bit like a boy. She
had long fluffy hair, big blue eyes, with a merry
twinkle in them, and her fat pink cheeks were
about the color of an outside leaf on the first
June rose.
Jim was somewhat younger than Billie. He
was not born or baptized, but just "con-
structed out of old rags; but although of such
low and obscure origin he soon rose to a prom-
inent position in the household, and was one of
Billie's most constant and devoted companions.
He never changed his name, although urged to
do so. He was not eloquent, and he was unable
to write, but he filled his place in the world
with tolerable satisfaction, and was considered
by those who knew him to be half human. He
had one very bad failing-he would never






THE "CHARACTERS" OF THEOPHRASTUS AND OTHERS.


stand or even sit up straight, but when left
to himself he would slide down on the floor
and rest on the small of his back, or even on
his face and stomach, with his legs and arms
twisted around in the most disreputable man-
ner. This habit of Jim's was a sore trial to
Billie, and she tried every means to correct it.
Billie first made the acquaintance of the
"Characters of Theophrastus" in her father's
library, and they were afterward impressed on
her memory under circumstances which she
doubtless will remember though she should
live to be one hundred years old.
It was a very disagreeable experience, and
one well calculated to show in bright relief
some of the various traits of her character.
The library was built after the house was fin-
ished, and looked like an annex to the main
building. It had only one door, which led into
the drawing-room. Two big windows looked
out on the little front lawn.
The library was not large, but it was cozy
and comfortable, with two big, tall bookcases
-how dreadfully tall they looked to Billie!-
all crammed full of books with beautiful bind-
ings, away up above her head; and under her
feet was a bright soft Turkey-red carpet, with a
large bearskin rug. There was a little fireplace
with two old brass andirons, and the biggest
brown-leather arm-chair was entirely too large
for the room. But once you were in it you did
not think so; neither did Billie, when she man-
aged to get into it with a bright, crackling wood-
fire blazing on the hearth in front of her and a
book in her lap. She was always looking at
the books "with pictures in them"; and Billie
judged a book, and its author too, according
to the number of pictures that it contained.
Billie was a curious little girl. The bright,
painted picture-books, so common in these days,
had no charm for her; and she would not be
satisfied until she obtained the book which was
headed with the ponderous title of The Char-
acters of Theophrastus, Illustrated by Physiog-
nomical Sketches," which is certainly a very
large name for quite a small book. But it
proved a veritable treasure-mine for her as
she pored over the queer-looking faces.
And they were faces such as we seldom see in
this age. Perhaps the artist did not catch the


meaning of old Theophrastus's descriptions, for
they certainly were not a particle like Jim's,
or her father's, or even her grandfather's, or
any living being's whom she had ever seen; still
they possessed a weird fascination for her which
she could not resist.


"BILLIE."
There in bold outline she found The Dis-
agreeable," with pouting lips and wrinkled fore-
head. "A companion whose conversation is
tedious, and whose manners are unpleasing";
and she vowed away down in her little heart
that she would never be disagreeable again,
even to Jim.
There she found The Vain," who, clad in
the robe of ceremony, stalks about the forum,"
and "The Proud," who is "never the first to
accost any man."
All of these characters Billie felt sure had
some mysterious connection with little girls who
were naughty and disobedient. But she almost
dreaded "The Superstitious" face. It had such
big, staring round eyes and an open mouth, and
the lines underneath were so uncanny: If in
his walks an owl flies past, he is horror-struck."
That favorite book was on the third shelf
of the tall bookcase, where she could barely


io66






THE "CHARACTERS" OF THEOPHRASTUS AND OTHERS.


reach it by standing on the chair and dictionary;
and Billie thought one day,-when Jim was par-
ticularly disagreeable, that it would be a great
relief to get it down, "all her own self," and
look at the pictures. It was rather a hard task
for such fat little hands and legs; but with the
assistance of the chair and dictionary she man-
aged to get it, and was just settling herself for
a good quiet time when she caught sight of
that graceless scamp Jim lying on the floor in
one of his most exasperating postures. He
was flat on his face, but one leg was twisted
under him and up his back in the most impos-
sible manner. He was limp and ridiculous. The
sight of him in such a position was too much
for Billie, and sliding down from her chair she
took him by the collar and threw him, limp and
clinging, out of the open door, and then she
closed it, turned the key in the lock, which
clicked warningly, and Jim, the wretched out-
cast, was locked out.
But, alas! Billie was locked in.
At first the little prisoner did not bother her-
self very much about this circumstance, but,
curling herself up in the big chair, was soon
engrossed with the pictures. Dear me, how
sorry she was afterward, and how very- care-
ful little girls should be about locking doors!
Billie never thought when that lock clicked in
the door that she was in a prison, as hard and
fast as any jail.
Through the little stained-glass window the
sunlight shone cheerfully on her flossy head,
and was reflected back with added luster from
the heads of the little bandy-legged brass and-
irons, and over against the serene picture of
"Meditation," hanging just above father's
desk, in such a happy, peaceful way, that Billie
soon yielded to its sweet influence, and allowed
the smooth, velvety lids to droop over the
azure eyes for "just forty winks."
And then Billie was asleep, one arm hanging
listlessly over the arm of the big leather chair,
and the other lightly enfolding the "Characters
of Theophrastus."
Billie slept probably for ten minutes, when,
with a little apprehensive shiver, she awoke,
and rubbing her eyes with one pudgy little
fist, she diligently resumed her study of Theo-
phrastus. But somehow the "characters" had


lost their charm. An uncomfortable feeling
that things had changed considerably took
possession of her. The sun had gone down,
and a gray sky obscured the bright gleams, so
that the little library seemed cold and cheer-
less. One or two blackened sticks of wood lay
across the little andirons, which had changed to
a dull brassy yellow. And the somber light
shining through the cold north window fell
upon the hard-visaged features of the Knight
in Armor," which hung on the opposite wall.
The picture of sweet "Meditation" was ob-
scured by the thickening shadows. The patter
of raindrops, dashed by a dreary northeast
wind against the window-pane, sounded a
rattling accompaniment to the low sighing
sound which the wind produced whistling down
the chimney.
The lines in Billie's face are now changing
with great rapidity. Before we can trace "The
Coward in detail we have The Fearful" in
all of its plain, unmistakable wrinkles.
She bravely continues her study, but "The
Disagreeable," "The Vain," and "The Proud"
are not nearly so interesting, and when she tries
the hardest to enjoy the pictures she feels most
nervously uncomfortable.
The patter of the raindrops against the win-









"I.




dow-pane probably quenched the little student's
tiny flame which was lighting the infant mind
in search of knowledge.
Certain it was that the desire for information
concerning human nature quickly became trans-
ferred from the books and pictures to the ob-
jects and individuals themselves; and when she
came to "The Superstitious a chill ran down
her little back, and clear to the end of her


Io67






THE "CHARACTERS" OF THEOPHRASTUS AND OTHERS.


ten little toes, and she looked around nervously
for the owl, and thought of Jim. Poor Jim!
How lonely he must feel, all by himself!
And with this thought she slid down from
her chair, tumbled the Characters of The-
ophrastus on the floor, and tried to unlock the
door.
At that moment Billie's troubles began; for if
it was difficult to lock that
door, it was much harder to
unlock it, and to turn and
twist the key in every direc- /
tion only seemed to fasten it /
tighter.
Now, thoroughly alarmed,
she called with all her might.
But no answer came.
The little library seemed
fearfully quiet. The pictures
looked down on her from the
walls in such a very solemn
way, and the Spanish dagger, the rusty old-
fashioned Dutch pistol, and even the broad-
bladed shining Turkish paper-knife on the table
seemed terribly animated and lifelike. What
Ruskin calls the awful lines" of things stood
out in broad, bold relief, accentuated by the
gray half-light of the dying rainy day.


And this trembling little bit of human na-
ture felt the anguish of' "The Despairing."
She was alone, Deserted," and "Forsaken"!
Her little lip quivered as she thought of her
father. Oh! if he would only come with his
big six-footed strength, and crush that hateful
door with one blow of his strong fist. For to
Billie her father seemed a tower of strength.
Nothing was so strong, nothing so difficult,


but "Father" could with one gigantic effort
subdue and conquer it.
Oh! why does not Father come to rescue
his poor little daughter? If he would only
come now, she would never again be Disagree-
able, or Proud, or Vain, or even Superstitious -
and at the last thought the big, staring round
eyes in the book, the owl, and everything went


round and round in her bothered head, until
finally she sat down in one miserable, wretched
little heap on the floor, sobbing away to her
tired self, as abjectly forsaken a bit of human-
ity as could possibly be found in the great city.
The cold winter night was coming on apace,
and Billie thought she might have to stay there
all night.
The long, straight, angular
lines of "The Hopeless" are
plainly visible on Billie's
4 face. When we see them
S on children only four years
old we know that something
S is wrong in the order of
nature-some one is to
blame, and we had better
scurry around quickly and
find the means for remov-
ing them.
Billie's mother was not very far off all this
time; and we are again puzzled to describe the
expression of Billie's face when she heard her
voice In the twinkling of an eye there was
"Hope," "Love," "Joy "-the sweet mother-
voice penetrated every fiber of her trembling
little body.
And now Billie's mother was just outside,
and Billie was crying and vigorously pounding


Io68






THE "CHARACTERS" OF THEOPHRASTUS AND OTHERS.


against the door with all her strength. It was
time for "Action," so Billie began twisting that
curious little bit of brass in the door-lock, and
also kept beating an animated tattoo with her
toes against the panels.
But they stood firm, and Billie was not safe
yet. Her mother was still unable to release the
little prisoner. Mother's head, however, was
full of love and invention, and she set quickly
to work to effect a rescue.
She first tried everything in the house to pick
the lock, beginning with her scissors and ending
with the family tool-chest, and Billie waited for
the result with breathless interest. Next her
mother went outside of the house, and, mounting
a tall step-ladder, looked through the window
at her little daughter, and Billie could flatten
her small turn-up nose against the window-
pane, but nothing more, as the sash was locked
on the inside, and, try as she would, she could
not open it, although standing on the chair
and the big dictionary. Only a sixteenth of
an inch of clear, transparent glass separated
the child from her mother, but the barrier was
just as effective as the half-inch panel in the
library door.
The rain was now pouring down on Billie's
mother, and the step-ladder showed an oc-
casional inclination to slip around sidewise on
the soft, treacherous soil in such a manner that
it would make the affectionate little lady clutch
desperately at the window-sill. So, dripping
and discouraged, she descended from her in-
secure perch, landing with one foot in the bed
of ferns and the other in a puddle of water.
Things began once more to look serious to


poor Billie as she watched the retreating forms
of her mother and the step-ladder, and her only
hope now was that father would soon come
home from the office and chop the door down
with a big ax-a very good way, to be sure!
But Billie's mother knew a trick worth two of
that kind, and this is what she did:
First calling to Billie to observe what she was
doing, she slipped under the door a long, thin
piece of steel wire-a skewer-which she ob-
tained in the kitchen. It was bent around at
one end, and she told Billie to slip it into the
handle of the key.
Now, my darling," she said, turn the point
of the wire around with both hands until it
points toward the ceiling."
How was that for mother's wit? There was
that little woman instructing her child in "ap-
plied mechanics," the great principle of the lever,
which has moved mountains. But, greater than
that, she applied love, which moves the world.
Now no lock, no matter how old and rusty,
could stand such a pressure as Billie applied to
one end of her lever, and to her supreme de-
light it clicked once more and she was free.
Free as the air, or as the little barefooted, brown-
coated sparrow that had been watching the
entire adventure through the library window.
And then Billie's mother, how she did hug that
little blue-eyed, tangle-pated, chubby-fisted mid-
get! Why, you could not tell which was which,
she squeezed her so tight and close.
And as for Jim--well, Jim just slid down
lower on his miserable, rag-stuffed back, and
twisted his limp, woolly legs into a worse twist
than ever before.


x894.]1


Io69











THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.

By SOPHIE SWETT.


"THERE 'S that horse eating his head off
in the barn-of no good to anybody. He ought
to have been put out of the way long ago, and
the sooner you have it done the better!"
Uncle Minchin was stamping over the floor,
frowning angrily, and thumping his great gold-
headed cane on the carpet, to emphasize his
words.
The children always got into the farthest
corners, and looked askance at Uncle Minchin.
In all his life no boy or girl had suspected him
of having peppermints in his pocket, or hinted
to him that a penny would be acceptable.
Eating his head off, that 's what he 's
doing!" growled Uncle Minchin again; and
Phonse and Merry looked at each other in
wonder. Was "Dobbin" really doing that?
And they could not go to see, for they dared
not stir from their corner when Uncle Minchin
was in the room. Poor old Dobbin! it would
surely kill him to eat his head off, and that
would break their hearts; but still, Phonse, who
was of an inquiring mind, felt that it would be
most interesting to see him do it.
"We are all very fond of Dobbin. The
children could n't bear to have anything hap-
pen to him," said the children's mother, with
her lips quivering. Uncle Minchin always made
her lips quiver.
"Fond! fiddlestick!" said Uncle Minchin,
with a thump of his cane that made the dishes
rattle in the cupboard. "Shiftless, good-for-
nothing people are always talking about what
they are fond of, and what they can't bear!"
And off stamped Uncle Minchin, giving a
parting thump with his cane, which caused the
kitten to make her tail big and spit defiance at
him.
The next moment Phonse and* Merry were
on their way to the barn to see if Dobbin were
really performing the feat that Uncle Minchin
spoke of.


But there stood Dobbin in his stall, com-
posedly munching away at the very last quart
of oats they had, and he looked at Phonse out
of his good eye, and whinnied affectionately.
"Just as if Dobbin would n't have more
sense!" Phonse said, rubbing Dobbin's nose,
and putting into his mouth the lump of sugar
which the little boy had saved from his own
cup of cocoa-for lumps of sugar were scarce
in that household.
"He could n't do it, either; could he?
Maybe Uncle Minchin only meant to be mis-
taken, but he told a wrong story," said Merry
firmly.
"What a silly goosie you are!" said Phonse,
with an air of great superiority. "He only
meant that we were going to be very poor.
Dobbin could n't be a horse and keep on eating
with his head off, of course."
Maybe he could. Don't you remember
that Alice, in 'Wonderland,' saw the pleasant
grin without the Cheshire cat ?" said Merry.
"That '11 do for girls to believe," said
Phonse, but he still looked at Dobbin a little
anxiously.
"Well, what did Uncle Minchin mean?"
said Merry.
"I suppose he meant that Dobbin was eat-
ing a great deal more than we could afford,"
said Phonse. It was a very queer way to say
it, but I don't see what else he could mean,"
"Poor old Dobbin! As if he ought not to
have as much as he wants to eat," said Merry.
" I suppose Uncle Minchin 'd rather have him
like the horse in my book that lived on thistles
till he blew away."
"I don't know but he '11 have to be," said
Phonse, mournfully. "He 's eating the last
mouthful of oats, and the corn is all gone;
there 's nothing left for him but a few old pota-
toes. And the people that Mama has been
sewing for don't want any more work done. I


107o





THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


don't know but we shall all have to eat thistles
till we blow away."
"Dobbin sha'n't eat thistles till I do, any
way !" said Merry, with tears in her eyes, and
bestowing affectionate pats on Dobbin's neck.
I '11 tell you what it is, Merry," said Phonse,
with a manly air. "You and I ought to take
care of Mama. We 're all she 's got, now
that Papa 's dead, and we must n't let her work
so hard, and look so tired."
"I don't see what we can do," said Merry,
dolefully. "We might get lost in the woods,
like Hop-o'-my-Thumb, and come to a wicked
giant's castle, and cut off his head and get all
his money; but if the giant's wife should hap-
pen not to be nice-"
Don't be a silly! There are n't any giants-
anyway, not round here."
Well, we might go and seek our fortunes.
We can get on Dobbin's back, you in front and
I behind, as we always do, and instead of just
going across the meadow-lot, or down to the
pine-grove and turning back again, we can keep
straight on-on, and on, and on, until we find
a bag of gold, or a purse that will never get
empty; and we might find an ogre to eat up
Uncle Minchin."
"Dobbin could n't carry us far enough for
that; he 'd drop down, he 's so old and worn
out. He has never been a mile since papa
bought him, and that was three years ago; he
only bought him to keep him from being ill-
used; he gave an old gipsy man five dollars
for him."
"He rolls on the grass and kicks up his
heels as if he was a colt, sometimes. I think
he could go, and specially if he knew what
it was for. You will take us to seek our for-
tunes, won't you, Dobbin? "
And Merry caressed him, and called him a
great many pet names which some people
might have thought it very absurd to apply
to a blind old horse.
Dobbin uttered a long whinny that sounded
like "Yes, indeed!" He always whinnied when
Merry rubbed his nose, but for all that she was
sure that he meant to approve of the fortune-
seeking.
We '11 start right off!" cried Merry, joy-
fully. And when we come home, Dobbin


shall eat oats till he 's as fat as Squire Elkins's
horse, and can run races."
Phonse laughed. The idea that any amount
of oats would make Dobbin run a race did seem
very ridiculous. Phonse had seen two years
more of life than Merry had, and did not feel
quite so sure of success as she did. He had
come to the conclusion that bags of gold were
most plentiful in fairy stories, and that giants
and fairies and all such delightful people were
as hard to find as a humming-bird's nest. But
since there was no money in the house, and
very little to eat, and Uncle Minchin had pro-
posed to put Dobbin out of the way," it was
evident that something must be done. He had
lain awake through many an hour of the night
trying to think of some plan by which he could
help his mother, but he was not old enough to
work.
Merry's plan might be a failure, but people
outside of fairy books did sometimes seek their
fortunes and find them. Phonse decided to
try it, and it was not long before he was almost
as eager and hopeful as Merry herself.
Early the next morning, while their mother
had gone to the village to carry home some
sewing, they set out.
It was hard to leave their mother without so
much as saying good-by, but if they should tell
her that they were going to seek their fortunes,
she would be very likely to laugh, and call
them foolish children, and tell them to run and
play. And that would be very trying to their
dignity, as well as very disappointing.
So they mounted Dobbin, Merry on behind
with her arms around Phonse's waist, and the
treasures that she could not bear to leave behind
sticking out of her jacket pockets. Fastened by
a string to a button of the pocket, and floating
out behind, was a purple balloon, which a man
in the village had given Merry, the day before,
because she had rescued four of his balloons
that were blowing away.
Phonse had taken nothing but his pop-gun,
which might be useful to shoot robbers, and

his jack-knife, which he might need to cut off a
giant's head with.
They had left on the table this note, which
had been laboriously composed and printed
by Phonse:


1071






THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


Deer Mama, Me and merry has Gon to Seke our
forchoon. o do Not Wepe For Us we Will bring horn
Bags fool off goled and Dimeunts and Preshus stones
And A oger to ete upp unkul min Chin with Respecks
ann pertikler Parting complermunts your Affekshinate
sun Alphonso Harrison p. S. we ma bee Gon a Good
Wile for we want to find A oger which is Orfle feerce and
Hungry.
Nov4 it so happened that while the children
were riding off, and their mother was in the vil-
lage, Uncle Minchin went to the house, that
when Mrs. Harrison returned he might be there,
and' get his rent at the first possible minute.
Uncle Minchin was so rich that he might have
smothered himself in bank-notes if he had
wanted to (and it seemed a pity that he did n't
want to), but it made no difference to him that
Mrs. Harrison was his own niece, and the little
old house she lived in was worth scarcely any
rent at all. Perhaps he had a heart somewhere,
but the way to it was very hard to find. The
children's mother was very tender-hearted and
was always trying to find some good in him, but
I am afraid the plain truth was that the ogre was
likely to find in Uncle Minchin a tough meal.
Finding no body at home, Uncle Minchin
sat down to wait. The folded paper upon the
table caught his eye.
"A bill!" he said to himself. "She 's been
running into debt, and somebody will be trying
to get that money before I do."
And he opened the children's letter.
He scowled when he began, but how much
fiercer grew his scowl as he read, "And A
oger to ete upp unkul min Chin" And when
he came to the postscript about the very hun-
gry ogre, he danced with rage, and pounded
the table with his fist-which hurt his fist;
and that made him even more furious.
"I '11 go myself and kill that worthless old
Dobbin!" said he, and started for the barn. It
did n't make him feel any calmer to find Dob-
bin's stall empty.
I suppose e e's gone to seek his fortune,
and an ogre to eat me !" said Uncle Minchin.
I '11 teach those little paupers a lesson!"
Then he locked the house and the barn, put
the keys in his pocket, and went away.
When Mrs. Harrison came back she found
her home deserted, and pinned upon the door
she found the children's letter, which told her


at once how it had happened, and also that
she had lost her children.
Meanwhile Phonse and Merry, all uncon-
scious of the ruin they had wrought, were.rid-
ing gaily along on Dobbin's back. Dobbin
was not so gay as they were. He could not
enter so fully into the spirit of the undertaking
as he might have done under different circum-
stances.
Dobbin was but mortal, and he found it dif-
ficult to be gay with an empty stomach; he
had eaten nothing that day but two biscuits-
the "lion's share" of the family breakfast. He
trudged along steadily, but slowly and feebly,
and hung his head disconsolately. Unless the
bags of gold and the ogre should be near, Dob-
bin's chance of reaching them seemed small.
Occasionally they met rude boys, who made
very unpleasant remarks, asking "how long old
rack o' bones was going to -hold out." The
boys also called after them to look out for a
high wind, for it would surely blow their horse
away.
They certainly were a queer-looking party,
especially as Dobbin, who could see only out
of one eye, took a zigzag course, first on one
side of the road and then on the other. It
seemed as if they never would reach.Fairhaven,
though it was only six miles away; and they
met no fairies or giants, and had no adventures
at all. It seemed just as commonplace and
uninteresting a trip as if they were going only
to Fairhaven to do some errands instead of set-
ting out to seek their fortune.
Phonse's heart began to sink. His doubts
concerning the existence of ogres and bags of
gold increased with every step. Those things
properly belonged in dark and mysterious
woods. There were woods beyond Fairhaven,
but whether Dobbin would ever reach them
seemed doubtful. But he said nothing about
his doubts and fears to Merry, who felt per-
fectly sure that they should find their fortunes.
Dobbin pricked up his ears. The children
had never thought it possible that he could do
it, his ears always drooped so sadly. But he
also stirred his legs more nimbly. It was a dis-
tant strain of music that caused this liveliness
in Dobbin. As they drew nearer they discov-
ered that the music came from a brass band;


1072






THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


patriotic airs were being played very energeti-
cally, and a crowd of people was collected
near. It was at the junction of two roads, and


by six white horses decked with ribbons and
rosettes.
Following that came six Shetland ponies, the


"'JUST AS IF DOBBIN WOULD N'T HAVE MORE SENSE!' SAID PHONSE."

they soon saw that a great procession was turn- prettiest little creatures that Merry had ever
ing into the road on which they were traveling, seen, some pure white, some jet black, and
First came the band, in a gaily painted some dappled gray. Dobbin stood perfectly
wagon, with flags flying from- it, and drawn still, and stared at them out of his one good
VOL. XXI.-135.


1073







THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


eye, and neighed to them as if he recognized
old acquaintances. Everybody noticed it, and
gaunt old Dobbin was such a funny contrast
to the plump, graceful creatures that people
laughed. Phonse and Merry felt mortified, but
Dobbin did not mind in the least; he was
watching the procession.
Behind the Shetland ponies walked, with
stately and ponderous tread, a huge elephant.
He seemed to fairly shake the ground when he
put his great feet down. Merry had never seen
an elephant, and she felt like running away, but
Dobbin stood, not showing the least alarm, but
gazing as if fascinated. Wagons with gratings
came after, containing almost every wild beast
that Phonse and Merry had ever heard of, and
some that they never had heard of, and which
they thought must have been invented for the
occasion. More beautiful horses followed, with
a very funny-looking clown riding one, and kiss-
ing his hand to the crowd. On another rode
a man bearing a great white silk banner, fringed
with gold, and having this inscription upon it,
in letters of scarlet and green and gold: Von
Homburgh's Great American and European
Menagerie and Circus." After that came a
giraffe, and more horses, and a chariot with a
gorgeously dressed young woman seated in it.
But between the man with the banner and
the giraffe there was a gap-due, probably, to
the giraffe's leisurely habit of stopping to stare
about him, and what did Dobbin do but step
into the line before the astonished eyes of the
giraffe, and walk calmly along in the proces-
sion, in spite of all the earnest remonstrances,
the jerks, and even the blows, of his riders!
Much distressed, and not a little frightened, were
Phonse and Merry; but the crowd laughed and
shouted, and the managers of the procession,
seeing that the crowd was pleased, treated the
matter as a good joke, and allowed Dobbin to
go on.
So into the town, with the circus procession,
rode Phonse and Merry on Dobbin's back, fairly
rivaling the giraffe in the attention they at-
tracted. And it was not long before Phonse
recovered his spirits, and began to feel that it
was the proudest moment of his life. They
went through the principal streets of the town,
a crowd following them all the way, and the


sidewalks lined with people. At length they
came to the great field where the circus tent
was erected. By this time Merry and Phonse
had become somewhat tired and hungry, but
Dobbin walked more firmly and held his head
up higher than he had done in the morn-
ing. And instead of showing a gentle disposi-
tion, as he always had done before, he was
absolutely determined to have his own way.
When the other horses went into the great tent
Phonse tried in vain to keep Dobbin from fol-
lowing. Not that Phonse and Merry did not
wish very much to see the inside of the tent,
but they feared that the managers of the circus
would be angry. Nobody objected, however,
perhaps because in the haste and confusion no-
body noticed, for it was past the hour when the
performance was advertised to begin, and an
impatient audience was waiting on the other
side of the ring.
Phonse and Merry watched the proceedings
with great wonder, never having seen a circus
before.
The clown went first into the ring, and through
the curtain they could hear roars of laugh-
ter from the audience; then the lion-tamer
went in, leading a huge lion by a silken string.
After that there dashed by them a beautiful
Arab horse, with a woman glittering with tinsel
standing on tip-toe on his back.
Dobbin thrilled all over, and as if urged by a
force that he could not resist he sprang after
the horse. Could this be feeble, old, stiff-
limbed, half-blind Dobbin-this horse that was
dashing around the ring, neck-and-neck with
the circus horse, so fast that the audience held
their breath, and Phonse and Merry clinging on
for dear life almost lost theirs ?
The whole audience arose and cheered; they
did n't know exactly what it meant-it looked
like a performance that was not on the pro-
gram; but they saw that the queer old gaunt
horse, with the two children on his back, was
winning the race, and they went wild over him.
The applause seemed to stimulate Dobbin to
renewed efforts. Around and around the ring
he went, and Phonse clung to him, and Merry
clung to Phonse. The ground was strewn with
the treasures from her pockets, and the purple
balloon went sailing off over the heads of the


1074






THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


audience. At last the circus horse was left a
length behind, and then a sudden change came
over Dobbin. He shivered all over, and stood
still; his vigor seemed to leave him as sud-
denly as it came; he staggered and fell, Phonse
and Merry rolling off. Happily they fell into


Phonse and Merry hugged and patted him,
and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
He was carried carefully and tenderly out of
the ring, and the circus managers kept the
crowd off, and all sorts of restoratives were ap-
plied, and poor Dobbin at last revived suffi-


*. f-.: ... .,
"..7



"DOBBIN WALKED CALMLY ALONG IN THE PROCESSION."

the sawdust with which the ring was strewn, ciently to stand upon his feet, which the chil-
and were not at all hurt. But there lay poor dren had never expected to see him do again.
Dobbin, apparently breathing his last; and But his head and ears drooped more dejectedly


1075






THE HORSE THAT DID N'T EAT HIS HEAD OFF.


than ever; he seemed, Phonse and Merry
thought, older than ever before, and he looked
back toward the circus ring, and uttered a mourn-
ful whinny that sounded as if he meant to say:
"It was glorious, but I shall never do it
again-never!"
And then one of the grooms, an old man
who had taken the greatest pains to restore
Dobbin, said:
"I suppose none of you know who this horse
is, but I do. I knew him right off, by the three
little spots on his right fore leg. He was nick-
named Chain Lightning,' and he belonged to
this very circus twenty years ago, and I can tell
you he could beat his namesake all hollow! He
was sold to go on the race-course, and they
named him 'Hero'-everybody has heard of
Hero. There was n't a horse in the country
that could beat him, sixteen or seventeen years
ago. Then he lost one eye, and was n't good
for much, but his owner, Mr. Brush, down at
B-, thought more of him than of all his
other horses, and when he got to be so old
that he could n't do anything he was taken care
of like a prince. When he was stolen from
Mr. Brush, about three years ago, the owner
offered a reward of two hundred dollars for
him, though I don't suppose he was really
worth anything. They thought somebody stole
him just for the sake 'of getting a reward, and
then was afraid to bring him back and claim it
for fear of getting arrested."
While the man was giving this account of
him, Dobbin neighed and nodded his head,
as if to say: Yes; that 's true."
The proprietor of the circus looked rather
suspiciously at Phonse and inquired how Dob-
bin came into their possession. When Phonse
had told him he said that they had better
carry Dobbin home to his owner, for he would
probably give them the two hundred dollars.
Their hearts sank at the thought of losing Dob-
bin, until they remembered that they could not
buy him enough to eat. And perhaps his owner
had felt as badly not to know what had be-
come of him as they did when they thought
they were to lose him. And then two hundred
dollars was almost equal to a bag of gold to
carry home to their mother.


The circus proprietor, who was a very kind
man, told them that it was only an hour's ride,
by cars, to the city where Mr. Brush lived, and
they could take Dobbin on the train. He sent
a man with them, and gave him money to pay
the fare of the party.
When they saw the meeting between Dobbin
and his old master they thought the man was
right in saying Mr. Brush thought more of
Dobbin than of all his other horses!
Phonse and Merry let their tongues run as
fast as ever they liked, telling him all about
Dobbin's funny ways, and how fond they were
of him, and he seemed to feel that he could
never thank them enough for taking such good
care of him. Merry told him what Uncle Min-
chin said about Dobbin eating his own head
off, and he said he would see that Uncle Min-
chin never troubled them any more. And he
thought that the country air was good for Dob-
bin, and that he should let them have him and
pay them for taking care of him.
Oh, and then he can live on oats and sweet
apples and sugar all the time, can't he ? Those
are all the things that he really likes!" cried
Merry.
That evening, before it was quite dark, Dob-
bin's master carried the two children home to
their mother, and he let them give her the two
hundred dollars with their own hands. The
poor woman had spent the day at a neighbor's,
weeping for her lost children and home; and
she thought it was too good to be true to have
them back all safe and sound. Indeed, Phonse
and Merry were rather disappointed that she
did not seem, at first, to think much about the
money. But when Mr. Brush found them, near
their old one, a cozy little house that had a
garden with flower-beds, and a nice stable for
Dobbin, she fairly cried for joy.
The children decided that their fortune-seek-
ing had been a success-though there was the
disappointment about the ogre to eat Uncle
Minchin, which Phonse could not quite get
over.
There is no doubt whatever that Dobbin is a
wonderful horse, for now that his diet consists
of oats, sweet apples, and sugar, he is actually
growing fat!


1076










SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S HOUSE AT


YOUGHAL.


By GODDARD H. ORPEN.


SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S HOUSE. FRONT VIEW.


THE town of Youghal, Ireland, is pleasantly
situated on the side of a rocky hill at the mouth
of the Blackwater River, which here separates
the counties of Cork and Waterford. On en-
tering the town one sees many signs of its age
and importance. Frowning down on the main
street are the grim walls of an old Tudor castle,
Nearer the sea stands the old water-gate, and
on the heights above the old church of St.
Mary may be seen the remains of the town
walls with turrets at intervals, while here and
there many a stone-mullioned window and
pointed arch remind us of the times of Queen
Elizabeth. Similar remains are to be found
in several old towns in Ireland; but Youghal
possesses one building quite unique in its inter-
est, and in the memories which it recalls.
Sir Walter Raleigh's house at Youghal looks


to-day from the outside much the same as it did
three hundred years ago, when the famous sea-
captain, colonizer, poet, and courtier of Queen
Elizabeth's reign lived there for some time.
The front with its projecting porch, and bay-
window; the south side with its sunny oriel;
the back with its towering chimneys; the mas-
sive walls five feet thick; the high-pitched
gables-all remain almost unchanged. In the
garden four old yew-trees, said to have been
planted by Raleigh himself, are still flourish-
ing. The old Irish name of the town, Ed-chaill,
means yew-wood. It is properly pronounced
in two syllables; but English tongues find its
sound difficult, and so they pronounce the name
as "Yawl." Raleigh's usual spelling of the name,
"Yoholl," better suggests the true sound.
Entering the house, we pass through the hall


1077






SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S HOUSE AT YOUGHAL.


and visit the low dining-room on the ground
floor. Up-stairs there are handsome rooms
wainscoted with dark oak. One of these re-
tains in its fireplace the old blue Dutch tiles,
with scriptural subjects inclosed in a circular
border. The principal room, that with the
sunny oriel window, still preserves its beautiful


When Raleigh first came to Ireland he was
but little known to fame. Born of an old
Devon family, he had fought as a volunteer for
the Huguenots in France when a lad of seven-
teen, and again under the Prince of Orange in
the Netherlands; and he had embarked on a
fruitless journey to discover the northwest pas-


A3~~ .
-. 7.4~
Ye'

-iS-.~~:


THE HOUSE AT YOUGHAL. VIEW FROM THE SOUTH.


mantelpiece of elaborately carved oak rising
up to the paneled ceiling. Three figures, Faith,
Hope, and Charity, support the cornice, while
the panels between are richly ornamented, and
an exquisite design runs along the lintel of the
fireplace. This splendid work of art dates
from about Raleigh's time, and is believed to
have been the work of Flemish monks.


sage to Cathay. He was in his twenty-eighth
year when, in the summer of 1580, he received
a commission as captain of one hundred foot-
men to act against the rebels of Munster in
Ireland. His pay was four shillings a day,
equal to six times that amount nowadays.
At this time the Earl of Desmond had joined
the standard of rebellion previously raised by his


1078






SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S HOUSE AT YOUGHAL.


brothers, and in the previous November, in a
terrible raid of destruction, he had plundered
and burnt the town of Youghal.
One instance of Raleigh's personal courage at
this time may be mentioned-a courage that
was afterward so conspicuous in many a sea-fight.
At one time, when he had only five or six men
with him, he was surprised by the Seneschal of
Imokilly, at the head of fourteen horse and three-
score kerns (light-armed men), at a ford be-
tween Youghal and Cork. Raleigh himself
forced his way across the ford. His Irish guide
shifted for himselfe" The horse of one of his
followers fell midstream, and his rider would
assuredly have been killed had not Raleigh
returned, and in the face of great odds res-
cued him, and waited, pistol in hand, until the
rest of his little band were safely over.
In 1586, after the Desmond rebellion had
been quelled, 42,000 acres of the confiscated
territory were granted to Raleigh; and from
this time the house at Youghal became his
favorite place of abode when in that region.
In the garden adjoining his house at Youg-
hal, Raleigh planted the first potatoes ever
grown in Ireland. The vegetable was brought
to him from the little colony which he en-
deavored to establish in Virginia. The colo-
nists started in April, 1585, and Thomas Harriot,
one of their number, wrote a description of the
country in 1587. He describes a root which
must have been the potato:

Openank are a kind of roots of round form, some of
the bignesse of walnuts some farre greater, which are
found in moist & marish grounds growing many together
one by another in ropes, as though they were fastened
with a string. Being boiled they are very good meat.

The Spaniards first brought potatoes to Eu-
rope, but Raleigh was undoubtedly the first to
introduce the plant into Ireland.
So also it was with a more doubtful boon
from the New World: the introduction of
tobacco. In Harriot's description of Vir-
ginia there is a passage with reference to this
plant:
There is an herbe which is sowed apart by itself, &
is called by the inhabitants Uppowoc: in the West In-
dies it hath divers names according to the several places
& countreys where it growth & is used: the Spanyards
generally call it Tabacco. The leaves thereof being


dried and brought into powder they use to take the
fume or smoake thereof by sucking thorow pipes made
of clay into their stomacke & head.
We ourselves during the time we were there used to
sucke it after their maner, as also since our return, &
have found many rare & woonderfull experiments of the
vertues thereof: of which the relation would require a
volume by itself: the use of it of late by so many men
and women ofgreate calling, is sufficient witness.


PORTRAIT OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

One of these "men of great calling" was
undoubtedly Raleigh, who set the fashion
among courtiers of smoking and introduced the
custom into Ireland. He even tried to culti-
vate the plant in his little garden at Youghal.
There is a well-known story of how his ser-
vant, seeing him one day enveloped in smoke,
and thinking him on fire, threw the contents of
a tankard of ale over him to save his life.
In this little house at Youghal, Raleigh spent
perhaps the only tranquil seasons in his restless
and stormy life. Indeed, we know that in the
July of the year 1588 he left Ireland hurriedly
to join in the rout of the great Armada, and
in the spring of the year 1589 he was away
with Drake and Norris on an expedition up
the river Tagus in Spain.
It was probably in the autumn of 1589 that
he paid his visit to Edmund Spenser, the poet,


x894.]1


1079






SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S HOUSE AT YOUGHAL.


',t


-N -* .


MANTELPIECE IN SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S

at Kilcolman Castle. Spenser first came to
Ireland about the same time as Raleigh, as
secretary to Lord Grey, the chief governor;
and he had, like Raleigh, received a grant of
lands, including one of the Earl of Desmond's
castles.
Spenser tells the story of how Raleigh in-
troduced him to Queen Elizabeth and gained
her ear to the recital of his poem, "The Faery
Queen," with the happy result that she made
him poet-laureate with a pension of .5o a year,
and that his great poem, forever famous in Eng-


lish literature, soon saw the
light. Raleigh was indeed
ever ready to use his in-
fluence at court for the ad-
vancement of his friends.
On one occasion, when
h lie came to crave a favor
for another, Elizabeth said
to him, "When, Sir Wal-
ter, will you cease to
be a beggar?" "When
your Majesty ceases to be
a benefactor," was the
courtly reply.
The portrait of Raleigh
i given on page Io79 was
taken from the best of the
many pictures of him. It
shows Raleigh's high, in-
Sl tellectual forehead and
long, handsome face, his
thoughtful, penetrating
eyes, and general air of
superiority. His love of
splendor is indicated by
the countless jewels em-
i broidered on his doublet,
'. and the big pearl in his
broad-brimmed hat.
About two years ago,
_,_ there was some talk of
transporting Raleigh's
house to America and
-- building it up again, stone
by stone, at Chicago for
_J ., .. -. the World's Fair, but the
town authorities of Youg-
hal patriotically refused to
allow the historic relic to be removed from the
town. With the loss of this interesting house all
memory of Raleigh at Youghal would soon die
out. As he himself wrote the evening before his
infamous execution:
Even such is time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with earth and dust;
Who, in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days;
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
My God will raise me up, I trust.


Io8o
































































VOL. XXI.-136.


NOT LIKE COMMON FOLK.

BY ADELE M. HAYWARD.

GALLANT Sir Walter Raleigh!
He went so bravely drest,
In times of courtly folly,
With snowy satin vest.
His beard was pointed cunningly;
His feathered hat swung at his knee,
Banded with pearls "in broiderie";
Rubies and pearly riches
Adorned his satin breeches;
His stockings kept their quarters
Clipt in with diamond garters;
And some six thousand pounds did use
To gem his buff and buckled shoes.

His grandeur takes away one's breath!
How plain it is to all, he
Looked not a bit like common folk
The while he spread his courtier's cloak,
For love of Queen Elizabeth.
Gallant Sir Walter Raleigh!
X08o






















DOCTOR FIELD-MOUSE.
( Tee- Wahn Folk-Stories.)


By C. F. LUMMIS.


As the door opened to admit stalwart Fran-
cisco to the big flickering room where we were
all sitting in silence, the long, shrill wail of a
Coyote, away up on the forsaken hill, blew in
after him on the boisterous March wind. The
boys pricked up their ears; and bright-faced
Manuelito turned to his white-headed grand-
father, and said:
Tata, why is it that Too-whAy-deh always
howls so ? "
"What, stupid one!" replied the old man,
kindly. Hast thou never heard of the Coy-
ote's toothache, and who was the first medi-
cine-man in all the world ? You should know
that; for from that comes all that we know to cure
the sick. And for that, I will tell thee the story."

In the First Days it came that all the animals
were made; and very soon the Coyote was sent
by the Trues to carry a buckskin bag far south,
and not to open it until he should come to the
Peak of the White Clouds. For many days he
ran south, with the bag on his back. But there
was nothing to eat, and he grew very hungry.
At last he thought: Perhaps in this bag there
is something to eat." So he took it from his
back, and untied the thongs, and looked in.
But there was nothing in it except the stars;
and as soon as the bag was opened they flew
up into the sky, where they are to this day.
When the Trues saw that Too-whay-deh had
disobeyed, they were angry, and decreed that


his punishment should be to wander up and
down forever, howling with the toothache and
finding no rest.
So Too-whay-deh went out with his tooth-
ache, running all over the world, groaning and
crying; and when the other four-footed animals
slept, he could only sit and howl. And when
he came to talk with the other animals, to ask if
they could not cure him, they caught the tooth-
ache too; and that is the reason why they some-
times cry. But none have it like the Coyote,
who can find no rest.
In those times there were no medicine-men
in the world,- not even of the people,- and
the animals found no cure.
Time passing so, it came one day that Th'oo-
ch6e-deh, the smallest of Mice, who lives in the
little mounds around the chaparro-bush, was
making his road underground, when he came
to a kind of root with a sweet smell. T'hoo-
ch6e-deh was very wise; and he took the root,
and put it with others in a buckskin pouch he
carried under his left arm.
In a few days Kee-oo-6e-deh, the Prairie-
Dog, came with his head all fat with toothache,
and said: "Friend Field-Mouse, can you not
cure me of this pain? For all say you are
very wise with herbs."
"I do not know," answered T'hoo-ch6e-deh.
"But we will try. For I have found a new
root, and perhaps it is good."
So he mixed it with other roots, all pounded,
o82






DOCTOR FIELD-MOUSE.


and put it on the cheek of Kee-oo-6e-deh; and
in a little while the toothache was gone.
In that time it was that there was so much
toothache among the animals that the Moun-
tain Lion, Commander of Beasts, called a coun-
cil to see what should be done. When every
kind that walks on the ground had met, he
asked each of them if he had found a cure;
but not one of them knew any. The Coyote
was there, howling with pain; but all the other
sick were at home.
At last he came to the Field-Mouse, who is the
smallest of all animals, and who did not wish to
seem wise until all the greater ones had spoken.
When the Mountain Lion said, "And thou,
T'hoo-ch6e-deh-hast thou a cure ?" he rose
in his place and came forward modestly, saying:
" If the others will allow me, and with the help
of the Trues, I will try what I found last."
Then he drew from his left-hand bag the
roots one by one; and last of all the root he
had just found, explaining what it had done
for Kee-oo-ee-deh. He pounded it to powder
with a stone, and mixed it with fat; and,
spreading it on a leaf, put it to the Coyote's
jaw. And in a little while the pain was gone.
At that the Mountain Lion,- the Bear, the
Buffalo, and all the other Captains of the Four-
feet, declared T'hoo-ch6e-deh the Father of all
Medicine. They made a strong law that from
that time the body of the Field-Mouse should
be held sacred; so that no animal dares to kill
him, or even to touch him dead. And so it re-
mains to this day. But only the birds and the
snakes, who were not at the Council of the
Four-feet, do not respect T'hoo-chee-deh.
So the Field-Mouse was the first medicine-
man. He chose one of each kind of Four-feet
to be his assistants, and taught them the use of
all herbs, and how to cure pain, so that each
might practise among his own people-a Bear-
doctor for the Bears, and a Wolf-doctor for the
Wolves, and so for all the tribes of animals.
Time passing so, it came that one day the
Men of the Old Time made Nah-kh-ah-shz, the
great round-hunt. When they had made a


great round circle on the plain, and killed many
rabbits, some of them found T'hoo-ch6e-deh,
and made him prisoner. They brought him
before the chiefs, who questioned him, saying:
How do you gain your life ?"
"By going about among the animals who are
sick, and curing them," he answered.
Then the elders said: "If that is so, teach
us your power, and we will set you free; but
if not, you shall die."
T'hoo-ch6e-deh agreed, and they brought
him to town with honor. For twelve days and
twelve nights he and the men stayed shut up in
the lodge; for two days fasting, and one day
making the medicine-dance, and then fasting
and then dancing again, as our medicine-men
do to this day.
On the last night, when he had taught the
men all the herbs and how to use them, and
they had become wise with practice, they sent
T'hoo-ch6e-deh out with a strong guard, that
nothing should harm him. They set him down
at the door of his house under the chaparro.
A law was made, giving him full liberty of all
that is grown in the fields. To this day all
honor him, so that he is not called small any
more. And they call him not T'hoo-ch6e-deh,
the Field-Mouse, but Pee-id-deh p'ah-hldh-queer,
the Deer-by-the-River, that he may not seem
of little honor. For he was the Father of
Medicine, and taught us how to cure the sick.

"Is that why the Coyote always cries?"
cried the boys. "And is that why we must
never hurt the Field-Mouse, but show him re-
spect as to elders ? "
"That is the very why," said Manuelito's
grandfather; and all the old men nodded.
"And why--" began 'Tonio. But his fa-
ther shook his head.
It is enough. Tdo-kwai "
So we stepped out into the night to our
homes. And from the hill, black against the
starry sky, the howl of Too-whAy-deh, wan-
dering with his toothache, swelled across the
sleeping village of the T6e-Wahn.


IO83
































HOW EXTRAORDINARY! A CHINAMAN WITH AN
ANIMATED QUEUE II. HELLO! MELICAN MAN WANTED BUYEE MONKEE?"


THE DISAPPOINTED SPORTSMEN.


BY W. M. DAVIS.

And here you see
WeT The heroes three,
As gay and free
As they can be.

The mighty bison was their pelf,
By curious instinct led
To hide and to conceal itself
By standing on its head.
"It 's very strange
No game 's in range.
sWe heard," said Dick,
"The herds were thick."


ToM and Dick and Harry went
A-shooting in the West,
To learn and to experiment
Which one of them shot best;


They scoured the prairie's level ground,
They searched the plains so wide,
They peered, they pried across, around,
Between, below, beside.


I. "AH,






THE DISAPPOINTED SPORTSMEN.


"Do you suppose,"
Said Tom, "that those
Round things in rows
Are buffaloes ?"

Said Harry, "They are like indeed
To heaps of new-mown hay
With lightning-rods on each, to lead
The thunder-bolts away."
"But where," Dick cried,
"Do those abide
Who cut and dried
These fields so wide?"


-


They turned, alas! upon their track,
And silently went home;
On prairies and on plains, alack!
They never more did roam.
And which or who
Could shoot most true,
They never knew,
No more than you.


"I can't tell that, to my regret,"
Said Tom, "but this I know:
We 've wondered and we 've wandered, yet
We 've found no buffalo.
I think we 've pressed
Too far out West;
So I suggest
We take a rest."


io85


"Let 's sit beside these heaps of hay,"
Said Harry, "in the shade.
Perhaps some buffaloes may stray
Near by our ambuscade;
And if they do
They '11 soon find who
Can shoot most true
Of me and you."

They scarce had sat upon the ground
Beside a "heap of hay,"
When midst a dull and dusty sound
The "heaps" all ran away.
"Good gracious me!
Now can it be?"
Said Tom. "Are we
L-E-F-T? "

































THE TOURNEY.

By F. H. LITTLEJOHN.


SING, hey, Sir Knights! and hi, Sir Knights!
Why spend your time in foolish fights?
Some day your sharp bulrush shall pierce
Your lily-pad shields, you look so fierce.


Then, ha, Sir Knights! and ho, Sir Knights!
You '11 wish you never had these fights;
For the bulrush sharp may pierce you too;
Then pray, Sir Knights, what will you do ?


THE STORY OF CORA'S PUMA RUG.

By ERNEST INGERSOLL.

YES, there are a great many interesting pour fresh cups of chocolate, we will settle
things in this room-more interesting to me, down by the fire here and have it all over
perhaps, than to you, at first sight. You see, I again.
got this thing and that from the Indians, or Do you remember my telling you once about
found it on some far-away mountain, or shot the time I went on a camping trip in the Cala-
it with my own gun, and so to me almost bases Range, with my friends the McHenrys?
everything has a story written all over it. Yes, it was the same trip where the dead tree
The story of that puma-skin ? Why, that is fell in a gale and crushed my tent about a min-
one of the liveliest of all, and if you will just ute and a half after I went out of it in the
xo86

































THE TOURNEY.

By F. H. LITTLEJOHN.


SING, hey, Sir Knights! and hi, Sir Knights!
Why spend your time in foolish fights?
Some day your sharp bulrush shall pierce
Your lily-pad shields, you look so fierce.


Then, ha, Sir Knights! and ho, Sir Knights!
You '11 wish you never had these fights;
For the bulrush sharp may pierce you too;
Then pray, Sir Knights, what will you do ?


THE STORY OF CORA'S PUMA RUG.

By ERNEST INGERSOLL.

YES, there are a great many interesting pour fresh cups of chocolate, we will settle
things in this room-more interesting to me, down by the fire here and have it all over
perhaps, than to you, at first sight. You see, I again.
got this thing and that from the Indians, or Do you remember my telling you once about
found it on some far-away mountain, or shot the time I went on a camping trip in the Cala-
it with my own gun, and so to me almost bases Range, with my friends the McHenrys?
everything has a story written all over it. Yes, it was the same trip where the dead tree
The story of that puma-skin ? Why, that is fell in a gale and crushed my tent about a min-
one of the liveliest of all, and if you will just ute and a half after I went out of it in the
xo86






THE STORY OF CORA'S PUMA RUG.


morning-which shows the value of early ris-
ing, does n't it ?
Well, one time Mr. and Mrs. McHenry and
Old Joe, the teamster, all went away after sup-
plies, and left the youngsters and me in camp
alone; and I tell you it makes me shiver when
I think of what a report I might have had to
make, if those same youngsters had not been
full of "sand," as they say out West.
There were a good many deer in the moun-
tains, and the boys had discovered a place
about a quarter of a mile from camp where
they felt sure the deer came down to the
stream each night to drink. This set Bob-
Bob? Oh, he was the youngest one of the
lot, and as full of things to do and energy to
do them as any lad of fourteen I ever knew.
Well, nothing would content this youth, Bob,
but to lie in ambush in the dark and try to
shoot one of those deer; and he persuaded
his big brother Tom to go with him and at-
tempt it that very night.
Now, when Cora heard of this plan, she de-
clared that it would be an adventure worth
having, and proposed to join the precious pair.
Everybody objected at once. Old Molly,
the cook and general helper, was simply horri-
fied. I warned the girl that she would get
tired of it before an hour had passed; Tom
said she 'd freeze; and Bob made no end of
fun of the idea.
But Cora was not the girl to be put down by
that kind of talk. She said that she was two
years older than Bob, and could keep awake
and warm as long as he could, that she could
shoot as straight, if she had a chance, and
that where Tom was she would n't be afraid
of anything.
So we gave up and told her to go along.
I suspect that Tom had no idea of getting
any deer at all, and meant to bring both the
enthusiasts back before midnight.
As soon as it was settled that Cora should
go, all three went off to prepare the blind.
What is a blind? It is a sportsman's word
for a hiding-place where he can get a shot at
some animal as it comes near.
The three tramped off, and "Bimber" went
bounding along with them, racing and jumping
and tearing up hill and down dale as if he were


trying to have fun for two dogs. No, no-
Bimber was n't the black setter--that was
" Nig," who would never carry on in that fash-
ion. Bimber was a fox-terrier, and he had more
sport and more mischief in his white and black
skin than any other dog, great or small, that
I ever heard of. I could tell you many a good
story about Bimber.
After supper we all sat around the camp-fire
as usual until eight o'clock, or so, when the sky
grew dark. But the moon would be up soon
after nine, and would shine right down the val-
ley; and Tom and I agreed that the hunters
ought to be in their ambush by that time.
So presently Cora and the two boys shoul-
dered their wraps and their rifles, and started
away bravely toward their hiding-place up the
valley, while I caught Bimber and tied him to
a tent-peg, where he barked and danced and
tugged at his rope until he was too tired to
howl another protest.
Pretty soon Old Molly went off to her own
tent, and I was left alone by the fire with only
Bimber for company.
By this time- I thought, as I lounged there
on the pine-needles and watched the coals -
they have nestled down behind their barricade
of brush, and the midsummer moon must be
just coming over the jagged wall of the moun-
tain and shooting its beams down through the
foliage of the quivering aspens that stand so
thickly along the stream up there. I wondered
whether it would lighten the shadowy spaces
under the trees, and between the thickets of
alder and berry, sufficiently to show the brown
coat and long ears of the mule-deer as he came
cautiously down seeking the water, and .enable
them to distinguish his tossing antlers from the
white poplar twigs.
I myself could see the moonlight silvering
the tops of the trees around our camp and
whitening the dingy tents; and so still was the
air that even the topmost tassels of the spruces
scarcely nodded on their slender stalks. I
amused myself by trying to imagine the
thoughts of the young sportsmen as they lay
there, hardly daring to stir hand or foot, watch-
ing and listening for the least sign of game;
and I wondered whether they heard, as I have
so often heard in lonely camps, the real singing


1087





THE STORY OF CORA'S PUMA RUG.


of the stream in the gurgle and clash of the cur-
rent gliding over the restless pebbles. That
would be the only sound to break the still-
ness of the great wilderness on such a night
as this; and I was glad they were having
such an inspiring experience whether they got
a shot or not.
How long I had been lounging there, in-
dulging these fancies, I don't know; but sud-
denly I became aware that Bimber-that rascal
of a dog-had somehow broken loose and had
taken himself off.
I had no manner of doubt as to where he
had gone. He had rushed away to his mis-
tress, of course, as fast as his four legs could
carry him. And I knew that he would up-
set the whole plan unless he was caught--
very likely he had done so already.
So I pulled my wits together and started up
the valley as quickly as I could go-but quietly,
meaning to overtake the little sinner, if possible,
and bring him back.
As I found out later, the dog had rushed into
the blind with a joyous bark, whereupon he had
been seized by the scruff of the neck and nearly
smothered inside of Cora's shawl in a way that
must have amazed him. No doubt he thought
his friends had gone crazy.
They were hastily discussing in whispers
whether the girl would not better give up her
sport and carry the dog away before the whole
affair was spoiled, when Cora's fingers closed
upon Tom's hand in a sudden grip that told
him her ears or eyes had detected something
unusual.
"Listen!" she whispered. "What 's that
noise?" And if her hand trembled a little
on his, it is not surprising when you remember
what a strange and exciting situation for a girl
that was.
Tom himself, and Bob, too, heard the sound
now-a pit-pat, pit-pat coming nearer and
louder, until at last a dark form, very vaguely
outlined, was just visible toward the river.
And then, just at that unlucky instant, to
their disgust and rage, Bimber squirmed out
and shook himself until his collar jingled like
a ring of tiny sleigh-bells.
The approaching animal, whatever it was,
seemed to start, as if half alarmed; but for-


tunately the dog did not bark, and Cora
dragged him into her blanket again, took off
his collar and held him close in her arms to
stop his mouth.
I see it! whispered Bob, excitedly. It 's
a deer--I see its horns."
"Can you get a bead on its head or shoul-
der?" Tom asked. "I can't."
"Yes-I can."
"Fire, then, if you 're sure."
Bob needed no further orders. Aiming stead-
ily, he pulled the trigger. The animal fell at
the crack of the rifle, and at the same moment
a rustling was heard in the brush at the left,
which they supposed indicated another deer;
but, paying no attention to it, all three jumped
up and the two boys ran down toward the
game, while Cora halted in the moon-lit path.
Now, it was just at that moment that I got
there, so I saw all the rest that happened- and
I would n't forget it either, even if I did n't
have that rug you are lying upon to remind me
of it.
Bob, as I have told you, had plunged into
the bushes, and Tom was on the point of fol-
lowing him, when his attention was suddenly
called backward by a sharp yelp from Bimber-
a yelp of unmistakable terror and defiance.
Turning quickly, Tom's heart nearly stopped
beating; and so did mine, for, although I saw
the danger well enough, I had no gun and
could do nothing at all to help any one.
Cora was standing like a statue in the full,
white glare of moonlight as still as if frozen
there, and was gazing as though fascinated at a
puma, whose lithe tawny form, crouched along
the ground for a deadly spring, was half visible
in the shadows. The swish of its tail, lashing
back and forth against the dewy weeds, could
be heard above the low growling that beto-
kened its rage toward the terrier, who had first
discovered the great beast and had diverted
its attention at the very instant of its intended
leap.
And now Bimber, every hair erect, nerving
his foolish little heart to defend his mistress, was
dashing out and back, yelping and barking,
alternating between courage and cowardice in
the face of that lion of the mountains afraid
to advance, yet determined not to retreat.


o1088






THE STORY OF CORA'S PUMA RUG.


All this came to Tom in an instant of time.
Bob was behind him, and as useless as I was,
for his gun was empty. The girl stood almost
directly between him and the puma, so that he
could see nothing more than the animal's head.
If he moved to one side a bush would get
between them. If he rushed forward the cat
would surely spring upon both.


glanced along the line of moonlight upon the
barrel's ridge, straight between the fiery points
that marked the animal's forehead, and pulled
the trigger.
A sharp report, then a mighty roar of pain,
burst out of the darkness; the panther reared
upright, fell over, and crashed away through the
bushes, and Cora pitched forward in a faint.


"'STEADY! STAND PERFECTLY STILL, CORA,' TOM CALLED OUT."


"Steady! Stand perfectly still, Cora," Tom
called out.
The girl made no reply-perhaps she could
not have answered if she had tried. Her tongue
refused to obey her. Her muscles were rigid
and fixed, as if paralyzed by her terror, and in
the face of those ferocious eyes she never
thought of danger from a bullet.
The puma, as if to remeasure its distance
from its prey, partly rose upon its feet, arousing
the dog to redouble his clamor; and Tom,
pressing his rifle firmly against his shoulder,
VOL. XXI.-137.


As hurriedly as possible we reloaded the
rifles, but the puma did not return, and, after a
few moments, when Cora had recovered, we
hastened back to camp.
At sunrise we went cautiously back to the
place and investigated. The deer had been
shot through the heart and lay where he fell.
A proud boy was Bob!
The puma was found stone-dead by the side
of the stream a few rods away. There we skinned
it; and when, later on, the hide had been pre-
pared, it was given to Cora as a keepsake.


IO89


1894.]













































THE PIPER.


BY LEE CARTER.


ABOUT the time our kite gets torn--
When little fires are lit at mor
To drive away the chill-
We know the Piper we shall see;
He comes to visit Ted and me
From far across the hill.

First he will through the village go
Before he comes to us, you know,
And, though he asks no pay,
For four large apples and a pear-
He always says that that is fair-
His music he will play.


He always goes from east to west,
And never seems to want to rest.
We watch his queer, peaked hat
When he moves toward the sunset, slow,
And as the earth is round, you know,
And is n't really flat,

We think he walks the whole way round,
At least, wherever there is ground,
Through China, France, and Spain.
We watch him till he 's out of sight,
And, wondering where he '11 be at night,
We both go home again.


logo


ti::
~,


12










WHEN BABY GOES A-SAILING.

By CHARLES GORDON ROGERS.

WHEN Baby goes a-sailing by the sunny shores of day,
He sees the port of Sleepytown in Nod-and-Blinkem Bay;
Where every light is gleaming bright, so welcome, warm, and red,
That each one seems to twinkle dreams within a cozy bed!
So drop the anchor, mother sweet, the breeze has died away
Since Baby went a-sailing sailing sailing!


A YANKEE NAPOLEON: "BRING ON YOUR DUKE OF WELLINGTON."







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


HERE you are, my young country folk, and you,
my city ones, brown, bright-eyed, and supple, ready
to leave the mountains, lakes, sea-shore, woods,
orchards, and berry-fields- all drawn hither and
thither by that strange, irresistible longing to be at
school again, which must be felt to be described.
Welcome to you, one and all. Now we will be-
gin the exercises by considering

THE TITMOUSE.
IN a high-school third-year class recitation, a
young girl- writes Ella Guernsey to this Pulpit -
was asked to describe a titmouse.
After considering a moment, she answered:
The titmouse is a species of the rodent family -
a field-mouse."
"A field-mouse The titmouse a-mouse?"
exclaimed the teacher. "Does a mouse fly, flutter
wings, hop on boughs? When you read Emerson's
'Titmouse,' you will learn how the titmouse -

'Flew near, with soft wing grazed my hand,
Hopped on the bough, then, darting low,
Prints his small impress on the snow.
Shows feats of his gymnastic play,
Head downward, clinging to the spray.'

Go out into the woods, the fields; read with eyes
and ears open, if you would place poor titmouse
where he belongs. Then you will learn that he is
no mouse at all, but a bird."
A country-bred boy as an experiment once sought
to learn just how many of his friends could place
the titmouse rightfully. Seven out of every ten
people -men, women, and young people -an-
swered his inquiry:
The titmouse is a species of the mouse family."


THIS reminds me of a letter about a real rodent
-a story of real life, sent to this Pulpit by a new
friend, M. E. B. She calls it
HOW 1 EARNED FIVE DOLLARS.
WHEN I was a little girl, I visited an aunt who lived
in the country. She lamented each day because the
cream, in some mysterious way, disappeared from her
milk-pans; and at last, becoming desperate, declared
she would give five dollars to any one who could
find out where it went. I asked her where she kept
the pans. She replied: "1On a swinging shelf in the
cellar." I determined to earn that money if possible.
The next morning, accordingly, I sat upon the cellar
stairs and watched. Presently I saw a large rat, the very
sight of which filled me with misery. He did not come
toward me, but sprang upon some catnip which hung near
the end of the shelf, forming a sort of perch from which
he jumped upon the shelf. He made his way along toward
the milk-pans, while I watched almost breathlessly. He
raised his front feet to the edge of the pan, and then drew
his body up so he could walk slowly round. I saw him
slash his tail across the surface of the cream and draw it
with great satisfaction through his mouth. I knew if I
called my aunt then that he would be alarmed and run
away. So, after waiting and watching for what seemed
to me a very long time, for I was a little afraid to move,
I ran and told her what I- had seen. She bought covered
pans, and never afterward missed the cream.
THE CHRYSANTHEMUM.
NEW YORK.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I suppose that a
Jack-in-the-Pulpit does not attend flower-shows, at
least not exhibitions of the cultivated flowers-but
oh! if you only could see them intheir almost count-
less varieties, and of all possible shapes, all colors,
and all sizes, from the diameter of a coat-button to
the size of a giant sunflower! Last year (1893) was,
as I suppose your birds have told you, the centennial
of the Chrysanthemum in Great Britain. I am told
that the flower was taken to England from India in
1793, and that as late as the year 1826 there were
but forty known varieties, the Chrysanthemum in-
dicus being at that time the handsomest flower
known.
I wonder how long the Japanese have been
familiar with this, their national flower. Very,
very long, of course, according to their historians,
to whom our nations of the West are creations
of yesterday. But, at all events, I cannot help think-
ing that the Mikado himself would open his little
eyes and catch his breath in true astonishment if he
was suddenly to come upon one of our superb
American Chrysanthemum shows.
Your faithful listener, CARRIE G-
AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Will you kindly
convey my thanks to the several correspondents
who have written me concerning the authorship of
the verse beginning Because of one-dear childish
head" (see ST. NICHOLAS for June, p. 743) -espe-
cially to S. Elizabeth B., of Brooklyn, and to Mary
B. G., of Fort Riley, Kansas, who sends a copy of
four verses by C. C. Hahn, entitled Mater Dolo-
rosa," as they appeared in The Public Ledger of
March Io, 1885, credited by that paper to the


Io92







JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


Chicago Current. The first verse of that poem is
exactly like the one you gave to your congregation
in March last, with the exception of the word
"childish," which should be "infant."
Yours,
LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM.
WHO GAN ANSWER
DETROIT, MICH.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Several years ago, "we
children," in the course of cave-digging, brought to light
a curious coin. It is of copper, the size of a cent. On
one side is a head that resembles George Washington,
and faint lettering about it that may be his name. The
other side has a Liberty Cap, with rays issuing from it,
and "Success to the United States" about the edge.
'The date is entirely obliterated.
Can any of your congregation tell me anything of this
coin, or where I can find out about it ?
A LITTLE GIRL WHO HAS READ YOUR PAGES
FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS.

QUEER PLAYMATES.
DEAR JACK: A jolly little sea-lion and some
pelicans at Central Park were fast friends and drew
crowds of people to watch their curious antics.
One of the sea-lion's favorite amusements was to
lie down close by the pelicans and pretend to be
asleep. He was not asleep, however, but simply
playing '"possum," for if one watched closely he
would see that occasionally the
artful animal slyly opened his eyes.
He was looking to see just where
the pelicans were standing, for in
a moment-after he had closed
his eyes again for a while-he
would surprise everybody by sud-
denly lifting one of the birds with
his flipper. The pelicans would
be startled and then gravely watch
the prostrate animal for any signs .
of life; but the sea-lion was per- '
fectly motionless and to all ap- F
pearances sound asleep. In a few
minutes hewouldstrike them again,
and once more the pelicans would '
stop pluming themselves and eye
curiously the disturber of the peace.
If the birds moved away the sea-
lion would follow them; and then
might often be seen a very pretty
sparring match between the sea-
lion and one of the pelicans. The
pelican would quickly thrust its bill
straight at the sea-lion's head, but that animal
would as quickly dodge it. Again and again in
rapid succession the bird would strike at him, to
the right, left, up and down, but the sea-lion would
always avoid the blow with wonderful quickness.
Sometimes, however, he did not move quickly
enough, and the pelican with wide-open mouth
would clasp him around the neck and look as
though he were trying to swallow the big mouthful.
Often when the sea-lion would jump into the
water for a swim, the pelicans would make great


fun for the spectators. Standing on the edge of
the stone basin the birds would wildly flap their
wings, and I am sure they must have said to the
swimming animal, in pelican language, You can't
catch me, you can't catch me!" for the sea-lion
would hurriedly leave the water, and in his funny
wobbling gait give lively chase to the pelicans. Then
they would flee as fast as legs and wings could carry
them.
During the time that I watched them the peli-
cans and the sea-lion were apparently on the best
of terms, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the fun.
MEREDITH NUGENT.

FROM THE DEACON'S SCRAP-BOOK.
I FIND that the great thing in this world is not
so much where we stand as in what direction we
are moving. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

IN all things throughout the world, the men who
look for the crooked will see the crooked, and the
men who look for the straight can see the straight.
JOHN RUSKIN.

SEA-FOWL'S EGGS.
HAVE any of you bird-lovers ever seen the eggs
of sea-fowl and noticed their peculiar shape? If


they were formed like the eggs of a hen, or even
of an ostrich, they could not keep their places on
the bare edges of rocks where the mother bird lays
them. But, in fact, they often are so very broad
at one end, and so pointed at the other, that they
closely resemble a cone. Is not this wonderful?
And think how round and roly-poly are the tiny
eggs of certain birds who build soft little cup-
shaped nests that do not spill them even when
the branches are rocked by the strongest winds
of the spring!


Io93


d
~4'



























THE STORY OF THE THREE DISOBEDIENT
LITTLE RABBITS.

BY M. R. S.
Br ___


A LONG time ago
an old mother
rabbit and
her three
p little ones
lived in
\ a beau-
tiful for-
7. est. They
S had a nice
house and
i, :. plenty of wild
carrots and tur-
nips and fresh green grass to eat, and the
three little rabbits would have been quite
happy if they had only been good and willing






#/ Z


to mind their mama, but unfortunately
they were not. Their mother never allowed


them to go outside of their own yard without
her, and one day when she was going to market
she left them at home, telling them not to leave
the place and not to let any one in while she
was away. She was no sooner out of sight than
the eldest little rabbit said to his brother and
sister:
Mama won't be back for ever so long; let's
take a walk in the woods; nothing can hurt us."







i ',V'"i





So these naughty little rabbits ran to the gate,
opened it, and scampered away into the woods
alone. They had not gone very far when the
little sister spied a beautiful big red apple lying
in the shade at the edge of a clump of tall grass.


1094






THE STORY OF THE THREE DISOBEDIENT LITTLE RABBITS.
They ran up to it at once, and the little sister
cried out:
Oh oh look at that lovely, big, red ball.
What is it?"
"An apple, you little goose," said one of
her brothers; "and it 's good to eat." So
they all three reached for it. Now this apple
was in a trap which some boys had set, and the
little rabbits had no sooner touched it than
snap shut the trap right on their little front paws,
and not one of them could get away. *i


1095


she saw that they were hurt, she first ban-
daged their paws with arnica and then sent
them to bed without any dinner.


They were dreadfully frightened, and the trap
hurt them so, and they all three screamed so
loudly for help, that a dear friend of their
mother, who was on her way to spend the
day with her, heard them as she was passing


along the road, and hurried to see what was the
matter. The trap was heavy and she had a
great deal of trouble in lifting it, but she got
them loose at last and took them limping home.
Their mother had just come in and was
about to start out to look for them. When


A few days after this, while their mother was
busy at cooking the dinner, these naughty little













S \

rabbits ran away again; but this time they did
not intend to go very far; so as soon as they
were out of sight of the house, they stopped and






Io96 THE STORY OF THE THREE DISOBEDIENT LITTLE RABBITS.


began to play among the trees. All of a sud-
den, one of the little brothers called the others
to come and look at an enormous yellow apple


which was hanging by a string from a branch
of a small tree. They all three walked
around it and looked at it from all
sides; then the little sister said:
" That can't be in a trap, because
it is n't on the ground."
They finally decided that they
would each take a bite out of it, but would r
not try to pull it down. However, the
moment the first one touched the apple, .
down came a sort of wooden cage right
over all three of them, and they could not
get out of it, try as they would. They did
not know what to do, for they were afraid
that if they called for help their mother would
hear them and would punish them for disobey-
ing her. Before they could make up their
minds about it, their mother found that her


children were not in the yard; she called them
to find out where they were, and as soon as
they heard her voice, their fear of being left
in the trap overcame their fear of being pun-
ished, and they all three cried out together:
" Here we are, Mama, here we are Guided
by their voices, she soon found them and set
them free. She then took them into the house,
and put them to bed without any supper. And
then she told them that she was going to give
a lovely party that evening to which they could


not go down; that she was very sorry that they
had been so naughty; and that she hoped this
would teach them a lesson.
In a few moments they heard guests arriv-
ing; then they heard the music playing and all
their little friends dancing and laughing, and
after a little while they could smell the good






X894.] ,THE STORY OF THE THREE DISOBEDIENT LITTLE RABBITS. 1097
things that the company was having -
for supper, cabbage and carrots and "
tea and all sorts of goodies, and as -
they had only some bread and













water before they were put to bed, they were the dogs got tired of waiting and at last went
very hungry, and so miserable altogether that away. Then one little brother peeped out of
first one and then the other began to cry, one end of the log, and one out of the other,
and they cried and cried until at last they and when they were quite sure that the dogs
fell asleep., were really gone, they all three
Now, would you believe that crept out and scampered home
instead of being sorry for having as fast as they could.
been so bad, these three little Their poor mother had been
rabbits were angry with their .looking everywhere for them, but
rabbits were angry with their wasso gl
dear, good mother because she she was so glad to see them safe
had punished them? So the very ,,t and sound, and they were so
next day while she was taking a '\f frightened and promised so faith-
nap after the fatigues of, the 9 fully never to disobey her again,
party, they slipped off and ran that she did not punish them this
out into the woods again. f time, thinking that they had been
When they were some distance punished enough by being kept
from the house, all of a sudden so long in the hollow log, and they
they heard a bark, and in an- kept their word and never went
other moment two big dogs came in sight; outside the yard again without her, but were
then how those poor frightened little rabbits did good little rabbits all the rest of their lives, and
run! But long before they could even see their as happy as their days were long.
home, the dogs were so close to them that they
thought they were surely lost. Just then the
eldest little brother saw a hollow log lying on
the ground, and calling to the others to follow
him, he darted into it. The last little white tail
disappeared in the log as the dogs came up,
but the hole was too small for them to get in; fi
so they sat down to watch until the rabbits c i" i
came out again, and oh, how those naughty
little things wished that they had minded their
mother! /\\ 1 After a long time it began to grow dark, and
VOL. XXI.-138.






RHYMES OF THE STATES.
By GARRETT NEWKIRK.



The "Land of Mary," England's queen,
Named by Lord Baltimore, /
Upon the Bay of Chesapeake '--
Owns oyster-beds "galore!"
,,, u gic, B ,eyes. -
East of the Bay lie farming-lands,
Where corn and wheat are grown; --- .-
The western hills for scenery -
And minerals are known. -

Along the west and southern sides
Potomac River flows;
The District of Columbia
This State's rich lands inclose.' -

The Nation's Capital is there
With all its weighty cares,
There Congress and the President -
Attend to our affairs.






RHYMES OF THE STATES.


'pI


1. this was one Vrginiaf'';i '
'' Till eighteen sixty-three: ''
The land was then divided
/i ; As on your map you see.

I t had an earlier settlement \i'(I',
SThan any other State;
And none can boast a prouder list '
Of sons both good and great;

The cradles of Virginia
ANNI Rocked seven little boys,
T-EN. Who, seven future Presidents,
I Were playing with their toys. '
---- .. Here Washington and Jefferson,
SJames Madison and Monroe,
*I .. ne Harrison, Taylor and Tyler;'
.. ere born long yeais ago.

"MN In West Virginia
r .: ", And coal and ir


there 's salt.-
*on-ore.


But Virginia's old plantations,-
Are near the eastern slor(,
1hW 1, /II 'I!,


1099









THE LETTER-BOX.


EDITORIAL NOTE.
BY an oversight which we sincerely regret, Mr. Fred-
erick H. Littlejohn, author of the two jingles on page
860 of the August ST. NICHOLAS, was not credited with
the sketches illustrating the verses. The pictures were
drawn from colored sketches sent by the author.


MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Mama and Ina are busy talk-
ing up-stairs, and, as I have finished practising for the time
being, I gladly pounce upon this opportunity to write to
you and tell you how very much I enjoy your monthly
visits. My cousin took you for us in 1887, and kept on
taking you till February of 1891, when she stopped. No
one knew how much I missed you, and I don't think I
quite knewmyself, till a very dear friend of mine gave you
to me last Christmas for a Christmas gift; and a fine one
you are, old St. Nic. I would care for none so much as
I do for you. Well, dear ST. NICHOLAS, now you know
how I happen to have you for my very own much-valued
property, I wish to tell you something about myself. I
am a little girl twelve years old and I live in the beautiful
county of Baltimore, Longgreen Valley. Our place is
very large and, to me, very beautiful, and you can just
see our house from the railway station, rising apparently
from the heart of a woods. So you see, ST. NICHOLAS,
that we have a great many trees near us, and although we
do not live quite in the heart of the woods, there is wood-
land accumulated on three sides of us, north, south, and
east; and the lawn is hemmed in with a great number of
stately firs and cedars. Believe me, dear ST. NICHOLAS,
your most sincere well-wisher and friend,
MARIE L. L-.

MACON, GA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My father has just made me a
present of a lamb, and I call her Virginia. She is white
all over, except her head and legs, which are black.
When I first got her I thought I never could make her
tame, she was so wild. But I managed to tame her, and
now she will eat grass out of my hands. She also eats
grass on the Ocmulgee River bank, although the grass is
old, tough, and withered. She likes to go down there so
much that she will sometimes run away. Besides the
lamb I have a young mocking-bird. The bird's name is
"Tom." Whenever I go near the cage he sets up a funny
little squeak, and keeps it up until I give him something
to eat out of my hands. Your interested reader,
ZAIDEE E----.

OGDENSBURG, NEW YORK.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl nine years
old, and have been across the continent four times. Our
old home is in Ogdensburg, N. Y., but we went out to
Seattle to live four years ago. We have been visiting
here for two months, and return West this week. All
the Indians out on the coast are called Siwash. There
was one old Indian whose name was Seattle, and the city
was named for him. He is dead now, but his daughter,
Princess Angeline, is still living. She is about one hun-
dred years old, and some of the old settlers pay all her
expenses. She is quite a character in the city. About
hop-picking time we go down to the docks to see the
Alaskan Indians, who come there in their canoes. These
are made out of huge tree-trunks, and are large enough
for whole families to eat, sleep, and do their cooking in.
These Indians are the dirtiest creatures one can imagine.


They live mainly on fish, which they eat after drying them
in the sun for several days, or boiling in a pot, scales and
all. When we were coming East last time, we passed
through a place called Medicine Hat, and saw some Cree
Indians. My mother bought a string of beads which a
brave wore on his neck. He had on all his war-paint,
and looked very fierce. These are much finer looking
fellows than the Siwash. The Government gives each
of them a new blanket every year. There are mounted
police on guard all the time, with spurs on their heels, so
that they can make their horses go fast over the prairie
to chase the Indians. I have written you a long letter
because I am


Your interested reader,


H. L. V.


ERIE, PENNSYLVANIA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are cousins and spend a
great deal of our time together, as we live next door to
each other.
The Soldiers' Home for Pennsylvania is in Erie, and is
situated on the bank of the lake, and is a very pretty
place; there is a greenhouse where there are a great
many flowers; there are flowers outside, too; the flowers
are planted in different shapes. The last time we were
there we saw one group in the shape of a musket. There
is a blockhouse there made exactly like the old one in
which General Anthony Wayne died.
One of the pleasure-resorts of Erie is Glenwood Park;
it is about four miles out of the city, in the woods, and is
surrounded by beautiful scenery.
We have taken you for about seventeen years, begin-
ning with my eldest brother, and coming down to me.
On the Fourth of July there was on the bay a parade of
all the boats, trimmed up with lanterns, and there was a
fort built in the center of the bay which was burnt up; it
looked very pretty. On the Fourth we shot fire-crackers
nearly all day and had fireworks in the evening. We
enjoy Sr. NICHOLAS very much. Our favorites are
"Toinette's Philip" and "Lady Jane."
From your affectionate readers. M. W. R.
M. E. C.

AT THE SEA-SHORE.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have never written to you
before, but our family has taken you for ten years. I am
going to tell you about this sea-shore place where we are
spending the summer. It is alongpoint and looks some-
thing like the deck of a vessel. It is almost surrounded by
water, and people who come here feel as if they were on a
ship at sea. Perhaps some of your readers would like to
hear of an adventure we had one day. We went on a
clam-bake over by a very large rock. We had just begun
to bake the clams, when a very queer, fantastic-looking
cow came around the rock. It had three horns and two
noses. We were very much frightened and ran up the
rock as fast as we could. Suddenlya Brownie came out
from under the rock, and changed him into a deer. He
bounded away, and disappeared in the Brownies' woods.
The last part of my story is a fairy tale, but strange
things happen in far-away places.
Yours affectionately, CHARLOTTE W--


MORGANTON, BURKE COUNTY, N. C..
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a boy of twelve, and have
been a subscriber to your magazine for a year, and will
continue to subscribe as long as I am able to do so. My
00






THE LETTER-BOX.


home is in the beautiful town of Morganton, in full view of
the grand old Blue Mountains (Blue Ridge), a part of the
Alleghany range. The Catawba River, taking its source
in these mountains, runs rapidly and boisterously over
its rocky bed, near the town. The scenery is beautiful
and inspiring. This is one of the oldest counties in the
State, named in honor of Sir Edmund Burke, and the
town was named in honor of General Daniel Morgan,
of the Revolutionary Army, who once camped here.
I am quite successful in collecting stamps, having a
collection of two hundred and thirty-seven from all
parts of the world. I am very much interested in your
history of the exploits of Decatur and Somers-and in-
deed everything in ST. NICHOLAS interests me. Your
young friend and subscriber, HASSELL H-- .


DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have just been reading the
last number, in which you publish the wail of an unfortu-
nate poet who could not find a rhyme to lattice." There
is a word brattice which you will find in Webster as a
partition wall in a mine. Is it a rhyme to the required
word or not?
Hoping that this, which comes from the land of female
franchise Lady Mayors, will aid the poet,
I am your well-wisher, C--.

RALEIGH, N. C.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I was very much interested in
the article in the July number entitled "The Bears of
North America." More so, perhaps, because we once
had a black bear. Papa got him in Athens, Mich. He
thought he would amuse the boys and girls in Haskell
Institute, the Indian school of which he was superinten-
dent. His name was Jack, and he did amuse them and
the older people also.
Jack was very fond of candy, and he would stand upon
his hind legs and beg for it. He also liked watermelons
and ice, but he did not care much for meat. His chief
diet was bread and milk, though he was fond of all kinds
of fruits and sweetmeats.
He sometimes got loose, but he never did much harm.
We usually found him in a tree, and he would not come
down unless we gave him candy. One day, when he got
away, he went into the small boys' dormitory and ran over
the beds. This performance did not please the matron
very well, but was fun for the boys.
Papa told one of the little Indian girls one afternoon
that he thought he should have to kill Jack, as he was
afraid he would grow cross. The girl said, "What, kill
Jack Haskell? No, never! So Papa decided not to kill
him.
He was very playful and cute, and Papa felt fully repaid
for buying him. I am, as ever,
-Your devoted reader, ALICE W. M-- .


her; Mike can. Pat cannot go on her; he feels bad even
when it is quite calm. Last summer we went to Chicago.
We had three months' holidays to go, but Mr. B-
came to teach us. We saw all the exhibition. We went
in the Ferris wheel. Pat did n't like it; I and Mike and
Sheila did.
We liked America very much. We were sorry to come
home. We are going home soon; we are very glad. No
one but Mike knows I am writing to you. If you ever
put this letterin, Mother and Sheila wouldbe so surprised.
We have to do lessons here with Uncle's secretary.
Mother, Father, and Sheila are in London.
I hope you will find room for this. It has taken me a
long time to do it. I always read the "Letter-box."
What a lot of people write!
Your affectionate friend,
TERRENCE DESMOND O'F-.



THE GRANDE POINTE CLUB,
HARSEN'S ISLAND, MICH.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Though I am not a sub-
scriber, I have taken the liberty to write to you, and hope
you will print the letter. My father buys you every month,
and I greatly enjoy reading you. But your last number
had an article in which I was very much interested. This
sentence is in the article: "Both the grizzly and cinnamon
bears hibernate in winter, and sometimes do so even in
captivity." I once made the acquaintance of a cinnamon
bear owned by Mr. 0. V. Davis, of Mandan, Dakota, which
" holed up every fall in a hole dug for h himself in a lot
near the depot. In I888 he went into the hole on De-
cember 5, and remained, absolutely without food or drink,
until March 17, when he came out in good order. Unlike
most cinnamon bears, he was wonderfully good-natured
and was scarcely ever known to get angry.
That bear's name was Bob," for I named him myself.
My brother caught him about eight years ago in Idaho,
near a small town called Hope. He was then about a
month old, and was very cross. He was chained to a large
hollow tree, in which he used to sleep. At night he used
to call for his mother, just as a baby does, saying Ma-
ma in something between a screech and a spoken word,
which used to bring tears to my mother's eyes. We gave
him to Mr. Davis, because we knew he would take good
care of him. Mr. Davis kept him until he was five
years old, and then sold him to a man who took him to
England. That was three years ago, and I have not heard
or seen anything of Old Bob since.
Yours respectfully, Jos. A. S--



BROADSTAIRS, KENT, ENGLAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have taken you ever since
we came from India, about a year ago, and we all like


you very much. I am a little girl ot eleven, ana i nave
three sisters and two brothers. Broadstairs is such a
pretty place; we have come to spend a month here, and
NEWNHAM TOWERS, BURSLEDON, ENGLAND. are enjoying ourselves very much. We bathe in the sea
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little Irish boy. I am about every other day, and are trying to learn to swim.
ten years old. I and my two brothers are staying at our I have read Toinette's Philip," and liked it very much,
uncle's here. We don't like it as much as at home. We but I think my favorite long story is "Tom Sawyer
live at Ballyheige; it is nicer than anywhere else. My Abroad." We lived in a hill station (7000 feet high) in
brothers' names are Michael and Pat. My sister, who India before we came to England; it was not much
is eighteen, is called Sheila. We have lots of old volumes warmer than England is. We went up to the hill station
of you at home that were given to Father. because it is so hot in the plains. I like India much
At home we have ponies. We go to school at Tra- better than England, it is so much prettier. We had a
lee; we go on Monday and come home on Saturday on very large house out in India, and our compound (or
the ponies; it is a nice long ride. My pony is called .garden) took up about fifteen acres. We had a very
Kate. She is brown with one white foot. She canters nice tennis-court in our garden, and my brother and I
beautifully. We have got a yacht. I can nearly steer used to play tennis in the morning, before our lessons.


IIOI







THE LETTER-BOX.


We used to go fishing in the afternoons sometimes, and
often caught nearly forty fish. The fish are very small.
and full of bones; if a fish weighs two ounces, it is a
very large one. I go to school when I am in Dulwich,
but we have had whooping-cough; so I have not been
for some time. We went for a walk in the corn-fields
yesterday; the corn is so high I have to stand on tip-
toe to see over it. There are such a lot of wild poppies
about here; we pick bunches of them when we go for
walks. The corn-fields look so pretty waving in the
breeze; we are going for another walk this evening. I
am going down to the beach this afternoon to fish. I
am afraid I shall not catch any, as the pier is small, and
the fish have not time to come up near the shore, as the
tide takes them down as soon as they come up.
Your affectionate reader,
MARJORY W--.

LONGMONT, COLO.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for eight years
and have you nicely bound. I am going to write to you
and tell you about a little Scotch terrier called "Scotie."
He knows many tricks. I was visiting there a few
days ago, and as soon as I entered the house, he ran for
his ball. He soon returned and laid it at my feet. Mr.
B- said, "You must kiss the little girl first, Scotie."
And he jumped up and tried to kiss me. Mr. B threw
the ball into the air and Scotie jumped up, turned a somer-
sault, and caught the ball. I said, "Cats, Scotie! and he
ran to the window and barked. He follows Mr. B--
everywhere, but if he sees him take out his best clothes
he goes and lies down, as he knows he can't go with him
to church.
We went out in the yard, and Mr. B- placed the ball
in e o the fork of a tree some twelve feet from the ground ; he
then asked Scoti if he e could get it, and Scotie said, Bow-
wow! and climbed up and brought it down. I have read
many wonderful stories about dogs, but never about one
who could climb a tree; did you ? I remain as ever,
Your devoted reader, SARA L. H- .



REICHENHALL, BAVARIA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Yesterday I went through the
Saizkammergut salt-mine. Every person had to carry
a lantern, and wear a facsimile of the miner's Sunday
costume. The mine was dug out of the interior of a
mountain, and all along the passages salt is found; in
some, salt is found to an extent of ninety per cent., and
other rocks are solid salt, and have to be blasted away.
There are thirty-six artificial salt seas in the mine, and
I was rowed across one half-way up the mountain. The
guide told us that it took three days of walking to bring
a person to the other end of the mine. A pit of salt is
blasted out of the mine and I went into it. I saw solid
salt of different colors. The salt sea is more salty than
the ocean.
I remain forever your eleven-year-old and interested
reader, ADELHEIT H--.


We thank the young friends whose names follow for
interesting letters received from them:
Kate P., Rose S., Virginia W. W., Isabel L.T., Edna
B., Florence H., Annie T., Mabel M. S., Hastings C.,
Melville S. W., G. C., Louise S., Margaret J., Ruth D.,
Beth and Josie, Lillian L. R., Nellie G. M., Frances A.
G., Nina M. W., Arvilla C. 0., Florence M., Ethel S.,
Hope A. S., I. S., Maria W. S., Agnes P., Alfred J. D.,
Ethel L. S., Albert G. McG., Maud R. B., Josephine-
W., Helen T. F., Margaret B., Flossie L.


THERE were several hundreds of answers sent to the
"Floral Enigmas" published in the June ST. NICHOLAS.
Here are the correct answers:


Prim-rose,
Holly-hock,
Sweet-pea,
Su-mach (pronounced
shoe-mac),
Dande-lion
(dandy, lion),
Indian-pipe,
Toad-stool,
Sham-rock,
Cinque-foil,
Golden-rod,
Tiger-lily,


Hare-bell,
Butter-cup,
Witch-hazel,
Rose-mary,
Lark-spur,
Flag-root,
Spear-mint,
Pussy-willow,
Monks-hood,
Trumpet-vine
(or, creeper),
Morning-glory,
Milk-weed.


\Ve thank the following correspondents for their clever
answers:

Dorothea E. Lewis, Clara V. Tice, Margaret Scribner,
Emily M. Pratt, Lucy M. Clark, Norman B. French,
John C. Gray, Jessie S. Goodwin, Ruth Whittemore,
Laura S. Armstrong, Lillian M. Quinn, Laura O'Brien,
Leila Conkling, Helen G., F. P. McDermott, The
"Maxon Family," Edward Kirk, J. Egmont Schermer-
horn, Jr., Esther Tuggy, Georgia Baird and Elsie De
Veaux, Dudley Wilberforce Bramhall, "Elizabeth," Mar-
guerite D. Nutt, Daisy R. Gorham, Evelyn E. Smith,
Ella Coston, Mairan L., "The Windlesham Goslings,"
Tillie S. Taylor, Ellen Ruth Atkins, Leah M. Crane,
Miriam F. Choate, Helen A. Choate, Margaret Dudley
Adsit, P. R. P., Dorothy Swinburne and Mabel Snow,
Odie Oliphant, Esther Eaton, Elinor, Henry, and Con-
stance Hoyt, Mary Ann and Kate Maccoll, Lucy H.
Bullard, Mary H. Beymer, "Elioak," Bertha C. James,
Emily B. Dunning, Marie, James, and Ella Crowly,
Bessie Crocker, Marion Eva Ryan, J. A. Smith, Eleanor
W. Allen, "Two Little Brothers," G. S. 0., Elizabeth
S., Wm. D. Strong, Ruth Robinson, Leota Mendeo,
Madeline Johnson, Wm. Harbaugh, Elizabeth T. Foote,
Helen Clements, Ina Snyder, Florence E. Scriven, Kath-
leen F. and Theresa F., Blanche E. Hellyar, Clara F.
Ray, Violet White, Frances Lee, Edith Vollmer, Edwin
B. Dutcher, E. W. M., W Helen Douglas Love, Katherine
K. Shoemaker, Mary W. Gottlieb, George Goldschmidt,
Eleanor Claire Hull, Effie K. Talboyo, Helen C. Ben-
nett, Helen Rogers, R. S. Coutant, Lillie Anthony, Vir-
ginia and Berkley Bowie, Lotti A. D., "We, Us & Co.,"
Julia W. Maxson, Annie Powell Wall, Helen and Anna
Smyth, Hester V. Brady, Marjorie Prentiss, Miriam
Sheffey, M. G.," Marguerite G. Pritchett, Grace W.
Tucker, Florence D. Guillauden, Ruth Stevens, Tom
N. Metcalf, Mabel Strang, Sumner G. Rand, Bertha
L. Johnson, "The Bishop and the 'Ermit," Fanny B.
Ritchey, Katherine D. Hull, Coulson Soule, Mary Grace
Arthur, Marian Goff, Bertha Stover, Louisa Merritt,
Laura Hickox, Jessie A. Parsons, Olivia F. Tate, Walter
F. Furman, May, Edith, Lizzie, Joey, Adrian and Alma,
Lulu Butts, Abbie F. Potts, Agatha Laughlin, Eunice
D. Follansbee, Julia Wickes Wheeler, Mary W. Jack-
son, Mana J. Abbott, Agnes R. Gray, Ruth Maxson,
Henry Bellows, L. C. G. and C. L. Hawke, Edith Haas,
Amy L. Hill, Helen Lovell, Edith Alice Noble, Phyllis
Winchester, Clinton Raymond Whitney, Annie F. With-
erell, Alice S. Gibson, Nellie Grey, Cordelia B. Carroll,
Bessie R. Dimock, Coert Du Bois, Robert Le Roy,
Shaftoe, Alice N., Olive and Edith Watters, Clare Brews-
ter, Mary Stillman, E. W. C., Rosamond Allen, Paul
Hayden, Marg Leonard, Sadie L. Vernon, Mamie and
Edith Johnson, G. P. Weeks, Jr., Ruth V. I., R. M. G.
and C. P. G., R. M. E. Dorrie, Alice S. B., "Age,"
Ruth T. Mintzer, R. Robinson, Mary H. Wilson, H. M.


102

















ANSWERS TO PUZZLES' IN THE .SEPTEMBER NUMBER.
HALF-SQUARE. I. Portia. 2. Orion. 3. Rite. 4. Toe. 5. In. CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Silas Wegg. Cross-words: i. masSive.
6. A. 2. patIent. 3. reaLity. 4. parAgon. 5. pasSage. 6. shoWers.
ILLUSTRATED PUZZLE. I. Four-o'clock. 2. Hare-bell. 3. Lark- 7. abrEast. 8. surGeon. 9. staGger.
spur. 4. Lady-slipper. 5. Dandy-lion. 6. Fox-glove. 7. Holly- WORD-SQUARE. I. Polar. 2. Odyle. 3. Lyres. 4 Alert. 5. Rests.
hock. BURIED TREASURES. I. Opal. 2. Carbuncle. 3. Garnet. 4. Em-
TRIPLE ACROSTIC. Primals, detach; centrals, ascend; finals, erald. 5. Beryl. 6. Silver. 7. Gold. 8. Pearl. 9. Coral. io. Cat's-eye.
enters. Cross-words: i. Disable. 2. Evasion. 3. Thicket. 4. Ad- a. Jet. 12. Marble. 13. Onyx. 14. Topaz. 15. Ruby. 16. Hya-
verse. 5. Counter. 6. Hinders.--RIDDLE. A radish. cinth (Jacinth). 17. Moonstone. 18. Bloodstone. 19. Amber.
NOVEL ACROSTIC. Tyndall. Cross-words: i. Tempest. 2. Syn- 20.-Agate. 2r. Malachite. 22. Amethyst. 23. Diamond.
onym. 3. Colonel. 4. Mundane. 5. Gravity. 6. Illegal. 7. Lap- TRANSPOSITIONS. I. Reared, dearer. 2. Dispel, lisped. 3. Re-
wing. vised, deviser. 4. Dent, tend. 5. Reap, pear. 6. Rail, lair.
A DIAMOND IN A DIAMOND. a. D. 2. Her. 3. Hadar. 4. De- OCTAGONS. I. I. Ada. 2. Abide. 3. Diver. 4. Adele. 5. Ere.
duced. 5. Raced. 6. Red. 7. D. II. I. Sit. 2. Sines. 3. Inlet. 4. Teeny. 5. Sty.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the i5th 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 JULY NUMBER were received, before July 15th, from "M. McG."-Franklyn Farns-
worth-G. B. Dyer-Mabel Snow and Dorothy Swinburne-Josephine Sherwood-Isabel, Katie, Mama, and Jamie-"The Wise
Five,"- Pearl F. Stevens Ida Carleton Thallon Jo and I- Mary L. Perkins Jessie Chapman and John Fletcher-" Tip-cat."
ANswERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER were received before July r5th, from Beatrice Wells Crosby, i-"Bantam and
Crawfish," 4-"Texas" B., r -Paul Cole and Fred Taylor, 4--Edwin S. Haines, I-"King Lear," 5- Falconhill, 2- G. E. de
Zouche, 2- Sigourney F. Nininger, I -Paul Reese, 9- George S. Seymour, 5- Effie K. Talboys, 6- Ethel M. C., I Papa, Mama,
and I, i-"Three Country Girls," 3-Mary L Austin, i-Lillian Davis, a--Albert Smith Faught, 4-Alice W. Gibson, 8-"The
Brownies," I--"Apple K." and relatives, 6- R. O. B., 5- Alice M. Morrill, Marion Closhier, I Stella Bixby, 4- Bessie
Crocker, 6-Jelly L., Natalie and Randolph, 8 -"All of Us," 7 -"The Butterflies," zo-A. M. J., 9- L. H. K., 2-"Todd and
Yam," 8- No Name, Boston, 8 Two Little Brothers, 8 -" Three Sweet Peas," 4 Highmount Girls, 9 -" Gamma Kai Gamma," 4 -
Dudley and Minnie, 3-" Three Blind Mice," 7.


RIDDLE.

I AM a word of one syllable. Whoever gets into me
wants to get out again as quickly as possible.
Behead me, and though I have no feeling, I help many
people to express their grief. Behead me again, and I
am an eatable beloved by certain bipeds. Behead me
again, and I am an amusing animal. Now transpose the
letters forming the name of this animal and I am only a
common vegetable. MRS. E. T. c.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I AM composed of thirty letters, and form a quotation
from "Hamlet."
My 10-24-15-5-14-18-30 is in good condition. My
20-22-6 is to move with a lever. My 25-2-26-3-17 is to
slide. My 9-11-1-8-4 is a kind of vessel. My 16-29-
13-7 is a complete outfit. My 12-21-27-23-28-19 is a
character in "Dombey and Son." j. R. c.

EASY PRIMAL ACROSTIC.
ALL the words described contain the same number of
letters. When rightly guessed and placed one below the
other, the initial letters will spell the name of a famous
musician.-
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): I. A domestic ani-
mal. 2. An article of apparel. 3. A river of Siberia.
4. A play upon words. 5. A crop that is gathered in
winter. 6. A short sleep. NO NAME.

METAMORPHOSES.
THE problem is to change one given word to another
given word, by altering one letter at a time, each altera-
tion making a new word, the number of letters being
always the same, and the letters remaining always in the
same order. Example: Change LAMP to FIRE in four
moves. Answer: lamp, lame, fame, fare, fire.


I. Change soup to FISH in eight moves. II. Change
FISH to NUTS in five moves. W. C. LAWTON.



CONNECTED WORD-SQUARES.


I. UPPER SQUARE: I. A bill of exchange. 2. A cur-
rent story. 3. A priest's garment. 4. A point in which
the rays of light meet. 5. A lock of hair.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: I. Search. 2. To unfas-
ten. 3. A hard, heavy wood. 4. Tracts of land con-
sisting of sand. 5. An appointment to meet.
III. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. A saline medicine.
2. In front of. 3. Restricted to one place. 4. A track
followed by the hunter. 5. Barters.
IV. LOWER SQUARE: I. Muscles. 2. Relating to
an hour. 3. To blot out. 4. To squander. 5. Smooth.
F. W. F.
03







THE RIDDLE-BOX.
.. .4 ,4 .


1I X


A DIAMOND
IN A DIAMOND.




'
*
*~ 7' #
# # # *
+ *


-k .2


I I. IN bead. 2. A couch. 3.
To make fast. 4. Overtaken by night.
5. Epochs. 6. An affirmative answer. 7. In bead.
INCLUDED DIAMOND: I. In bead. 2. Halfofa Scrip-
tural name. 3. Exultant. 4. Consumed. 5. In bead.
F. S. F.
PI.

EHT sayd rea tills, dan eht glon sti'ngh hudshe,
Dan eth raf kys bruns kile eht hater fo a soer;
Dan eht sodow, twih eth glod for umanut shelduf,
Savhil thire slorpend ni scirmon swons.

WORD-SQUARE.

I. FAMILIES. 2. Vigilant. 3. An evergreen tree. 4. To
blot out. 5. To scatter. E. W. W.

ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS.


* -* *
*
* '. a
* *
*


I. UPPER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In masonic.
2. To stitch. 3. The chief of the fallen angels. 4. Mea-
surements of coal. 5. Carried on, as a war. 6. A mas-
culine nickname. 7. In masonic.
II. UPPER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In masonic.
2. The flesh of a hog cured by salting and smoking.


3. Cavities. 4. Hails. 5. Measure.
6. To observe. 7. In masonic.
III. CENTRAL DIAMOND: I.
In masonic. 2. An obstruction.
3. Valleys. 4. Salt springs. 5.
Repairs. 6. Half of a magic
password used by the "Forty
Thieves." 7. In masonic.
IV. LOWER LEFT-HAND DIA-
MOND: I. In masonic. 2. An
abbreviation for the name of a
political party. 3. Small fishes *,
4. Certain grasses. 5. A hand-to-
hand conflict. 6. To discern. 7.
In masonic.
V. LOWER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In masonic.
2. A title of respect. 3. A masculine name. 4. Certain
minerals. 5. Ran with speed. 6. Dejected. 7. In
masonic. "ECHOING YET."
HOUR-GLASS.
MY centrals, reading downward, spell a kind of puzzle.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A poster. 2. The supposed matter
above the air. 3. A large tub. 4. In hour-glass. 5. A
cooking utensil. 6. Loaded. 7. Freedom.
EDWARD WILSON WALLACE.
A HOLIDAY TRIP.
WHAT are the names of the thirty places here alluded
to by fanciful or popular titles ?
I was somewhat puzzled to know where to spend my
vacation. A party of friends invited me to join them in
visiting (I) the City of Magnificent Distances," (2) the
"Crescent City," and (3) the "Key of the Gulf," then,
going southward, to sail up (4) the "King of Waters."
This I declined to do, but one sunny d.i, I took the
steamer at (5) the City of the Straits" and passing (6)
"Little Venice" I crossed (7) the "Lake of the Cat,'
and landed at (8) the Forest City in (9) the "Buckeye
State." From there I went by rail to (Io) the "Mod-
ern Athens," visiting at the same time (Ii) the City of
Spindles," and then went back as far as (12) Gotham."
Crossing (13) "Davy Jones's Locker," I reached (14)
the "Mistress of the Seas:" Making my headquarters
in (15) Modern Babylon," I went north to (16) the
"Land o' Cakes," for the purpose of seeing (17) "Auld
Reekie," and then, took the boat for (18) the Isle of
Saints," where I had relatives in (19) the "City of
Violated Treaties."
After leaving here, I went direct to (20) the "Bride of
the Sea," thence to (21) the "Nameless City"; I spent
a short time in (22) the Toe of the Boot" and in (23)
the Three-cornered Land "; and then I visited (24) the
" Sick Man of the East." Passing on to (25) the City
of Victory," I sailed south through (26) the "Gate of
Tears," and except for a short stay in (27) the "Land
of the White Elephant," I did not again touch land till
I reached (28) the "Celestial Empire." I spent a month
in (29) the "Land of the Mikado," taking passage from
there to (30) the "Golden Gate "; and from here a jour-
ney by rail, almost across the continent, brought me
safely home. PLEASANT E. TODD.


THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.


1104


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