Front Cover
 Front Matter
 George o' green and Robin Hood
 A vegetable Ogre
 The fire on the water
 The horses of the castle
 The three wise owls
 Historical military powder-hor...
 The true story of Marco Polo
 Good little miss and master
 The swordmaker's son
 The kind-hearted bear
 An educator
 More Gobolinks
 All things come round
 The end of the week after next
 Dot and the new moon
 Portrait of a little girl (picture...
 A cooked-up romance
 A vexed question
 Fifty charades: A prize puzzle
 Sindbad, Smith & co.
 Jimmie's ambition
 The donkey of Carisbrooke well
 The very good friends
 The thimble
 Pussy's lesson
 The ten jolly brothers
 Report upon the prize puzzle: A...
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00316
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00316
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
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
        Page 970
        Page 971
    George o' green and Robin Hood
        Page 972
        Page 973
        Page 974
        Page 975
        Page 976
        Page 977
        Page 978
        Page 979
        Page 980
        Page 981
    A vegetable Ogre
        Page 982
        Page 983
    The fire on the water
        Page 984
        Page 985
        Page 986
        Page 987
    The horses of the castle
        Page 988
        Page 989
        Page 990
        Page 991
    The three wise owls
        Page 992
    Historical military powder-horns
        Page 993
        Page 994
        Page 995
        Page 996
        Page 997
    The true story of Marco Polo
        Page 998
        Page 999
        Page 1000
        Page 1001
        Page 1002
        Page 1003
    Good little miss and master
        Page 1004
        Page 1005
    The swordmaker's son
        Page 1006
        Page 1007
        Page 1008
        Page 1009
        Page 1010
        Page 1011
        Page 1012
    The kind-hearted bear
        Page 1013
        Page 1014
        Page 1015
        Page 1016
    An educator
        Page 1017
    More Gobolinks
        Page 1018
        Page 1019
        Page 1020
        Page 1021
    All things come round
        Page 1022
    The end of the week after next
        Page 1022
        Page 1023
        Page 1024
        Page 1025
        Page 1026
        Page 1027
    Dot and the new moon
        Page 1028
    Portrait of a little girl (picture from a painting by F. S. Church)
        Page 1029
    A cooked-up romance
        Page 1030
    A vexed question
        Page 1031
    Fifty charades: A prize puzzle
        Page 1032
        Page 1033
        Page 1034
        Page 1035
        Page 1036
        Page 1037
    Sindbad, Smith & co.
        Page 1038
        Page 1039
        Page 1040
        Page 1041
        Page 1042
    Jimmie's ambition
        Page 1043
    The donkey of Carisbrooke well
        Page 1044
        Page 1045
    The very good friends
        Page 1046
        Page 1047
    The thimble
        Page 1048
        Page 1048
    Pussy's lesson
        Page 1049
    The ten jolly brothers
        Page 1050
        Page 1051
    Report upon the prize puzzle: A Boston tea-party
        Page 1052
        Page 1053
    The letter-box
        Page 1054
    The riddle-box
        Page 1055
        Page 1056
        Page 1057
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

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VOL. XXIII. OCTOBER, 1896. No. 12.
Copyright, 1896, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.


By M. M. D.

KATRINKA, fresh as the morning,
Gazed from her casement low;
Far off, the great-sailed windmills
Stood darkly in a row,
And the sky with the changing splendor
Of dawn was all aglow.
"I wonder," thought the maiden,
Thrilled with the glorious sight,
"If all the beauty around us,
And all the love and delight,
Comes flooding the earth at sunrise
To bide with us, day and night ?
I wonder if all the goodness
That makes us steady and true
Glides softly in with the dawning
To gladden us through and through-
To lift our hearts to the Giver,
And help us in all we do?
"Yet, whether we lose it or keep it,
Depends upon many a thing:
Whether we 're lazy or busy,
Whether we grumble or sing;


Whether our thoughts are noble,
Or whether they grovel and sting.

Oh, the wonderful sky!" sighed Katrinka,
"How grand But the day has begun.
There 's breakfast, and spinning, and mending,
And the kettles to shine one by one -
Good-by, you dear, beautiful morning!
There's so much to do; I must run."

Bright little maiden, Katrinka,
In the land of the dyke and the sea!
They who live in the glow of the dawning
Are, all the world over, like thee.
Bearers of sunlight and gladness,
Faithful in shadow and sadness-
The path of the day is diviner
Wherever their light may be.



IN the dusky aisles of the greenwood caroled
lustily a man, clad in Lincoln green from top
to toe, as he took his way blithely down the
woodland path:
Oh, give me my bent bow of yew;
Oh, give me my lads so good and true;
Oh, give me my forest so wild and green,
And the dappled deer the boles between!
"I must take me further afield if I would
have adventure this day," he mused, thinking
aloud. "'T is but five o' the clock, and a good
ten miles from Nottingham. It may happen a
fat monk will pass, with purse well filled with
gold." Thrusting his hand into his pocket he
drew it out empty, and looked at it with rueful
countenance. "But alack! mine is as empty
as yon nest! "- glancing at a wood-pigeon's
nest atop a sturdy oak. "'T would be a fine
frolic to fill it from some fat purse in the priory
A few steps brought him to a cool dell wherein
bubbled a brown spring, now somber in the
deep shadows, but under the sun rays sparkling
as a crystal cup. He stooped, and drank a

draught from its depths, and again proceeded on
his way to the outskirts of the forest where ran
the road. When he came in sight of it, he
saw, slowly coming toward him, two lean monks,
whose habits were gray with dust of the high-
way. Their cheeks were sunken with fasting,
and their steps slow and uncertain.
The man in green hid behind a tree, and
laughed softly, as he said:
If any purse they have, 't is empty! The
mendicant friars ne'er carry coin in their purse,
nor victual in their wallet."
The monks dragged wearily out of sight,
with slow and solemn gait. When they were
well away he took to the road, and set off down
Nottingham way. He walked for a matter of
two miles, when he came to a glebe parceled
out to the country folk thereabout for pasture.
There he found, stretched out at full length, on
a bank of thyme bordering a brook, a young
country fellow of great breadth and brawn, fast
asleep, although it was now full day. As he
approached, a lark rose high in spiral curve till
it seemed lost in the ribbon-like clouds that




streaked the blue sky, then thrilled forth a red pig,- that 's Sandy,- he has a coat like a
song so sweet and joyous to greet the day, borderman's poll, so I calls him by that name,-
that the forester raised his cap in reverence. he 's uncommon wise; and there 's the black-"
Aha, bonny bird!
Hast borrowed an an-
gel's song? And yet -
that lout sleeps!" So
saying he prodded the
churl with the oaken
staff till he grunted like .
one of the pigs that 21,
strayed near.
"Sandy, thou var- -'
let! the sleeper mut-
tered drowsily; "is 't
'ee again ?" and he
raised his great bulk
half up, supporting it
on his elbow, as he
rubbed his eyes free of
And who may San-
dy be ?" put in a blithe,
laughing voice. .
"Sandy is the can-
niest pig i' all the coun-
try-side," said the man, ". .
fully rising. Ay, that
pig, there 's naa lout
i' a' the parish that 's .
wiser than he be! "
"Hoot, toot, man!"
quoth Robin Hood-
for the man in green :
with the laughing voice
was he,- "how canst .
thou make such speech!
Thouknowest menot!"
The man standing .'
on his feet towered %
over Robin two or
three inches, a very
giant in girth and .
stature. His face be-
tokened dullness and
Na-a, by the good
Saint Dunstan I know thee not," he said; "That 'll do, man! Pigs are pigs till they
"but I know my pigs. There 's the speckled be killed, then they be bacon! But tell me
pig, that 's the slyest beast o' the lot; and the how a man o' the brawn and bone o' thee


comes to be minding pigs? Why, man, any
bairn could do as much!"
The man muttered, "They 're none o' mine.

I I/

They be Goody Hoskins's, an' she gi'es me a saplin
sixpence, and a bed at night, and a bowl o' wrenc
porridge morn and eve, and an oatcake at of his
noontide for mindin' 'em." T
So, thou 'rt a pig-minder when thou might- though
est be the greatest wrestler hereabout, or even for an
carry a free lance! Ge
Eh ? Think'st thou so ? said the man stu- to Re
pidly. But I could n't sleep between mindin' C
as I can now. When the pigs stray too far o'er 1
afield Sandy cooms and grunts to warn me. lookir
Then I take my withe and beat 'em back to our snapp
part of the glebe. And so I make shift to live." He

ow, I doubt me if in all that brawn there
one ounce of strength," muttered Robin.
v art thou called, Master Pig-minder?"
"George o' Green."
"Why that ?"
"Ho, ho, ho! "roared
.- the churl. "So wise,
and don't know that
--withal! Why, I live
on the green and mind
the pigs!" And he
wiped tears of laugh-
ter from his eyes on the
sleeve of his fustian
"I doubt me," said
Robin, "if thou canst
play with the quarter-
"Ay, but I can!"
'said George, quickly.
"Show thy prowess
then! said Robin, with
a quick thrust at him
with his white-oak staff.
Bide here and mind
the pigs till I go to yon
i thicket and get me a
i' staff."
Robin consented, and
gazed after the brawny
i' man as he walked with
long, slow strides to
the oak thicket on the
4 hither side of the brook.
There he carefully se-
lected a tough green
g, almost two inches thick, and then
hed it off near the ground with a twist
powerful hands.
'his bodes me no good in the coming tilt,"
ht Robin. But though he never withdrew
ly cause, rarely had he suffered defeat.
orge turned him about, and, coming up
)bin, said:
anst lend me that knife o' thine? 'T is
too frayed for a good staff," he said,
ig at the fringe of splinters where he had
ed off the stem.
Trimmed the staff carefully, then handed



back to Robin his knife. But chancing to look At once the sound of the clashing of staves
around, he saw the pigs scampering off to a filled the air. As both were so deft in handling
distant corner of the common, the staff, all blows were skilfully parried. At
Thou'st not minded the pigs! Now Goody the end of an hour Robin's arm began to weary,
Hoskins will rate me well! cried George with but George's brawny arm was unfailing. In
heat, yet timidly withal. warding off a powerful blow Robin's arm
But Sandy did n't give me warning!" swerved, and George's staff came down on
pleaded Robin. his crown with a sharp rap, the first hit
"Good old Sandy! Faithful shoat! He made by either. For near two hours longer
knows thee not. He '11 talk only to me !" and the clashing of staves kept up, when Robin's
George's ill-nature left him at this proof of the foot slipped on the thyme, and down he rolled
faithfulness of his favorite, into the brook.
He set off at full speed after the pigs, Robin George greeted his fall with hoarse guffaws,
at his heels. When they had got the swine bending double and clinging to his staff to keep
back to their own feeding-ground they lay from falling, so tickled was he at Robin's sorry
themselves down on the short thymy turf to plight. Robin climbed out of the brook splut-
rest. The chase had
been a right merry
one, and both were
short of wind; for
the pigs had scam-- '
pered and dodged
sprightfully in a way ;
that made the men .
more weary than a"
five-mile sprint. .
George dozed off. ,
on the instant, and i'. '
Robin panted loud.
In ten minutes-Rob-: _
in prodded George i, .i .'/.
with his staff, and
"Sluggard Art
ready? i
George yawned 1
prodigiously, show- -
as a young dog's, w
rimming his jaws.v '
Then he rose and ran I O
his fingers through 7
his shock of red hair, -
stretched mightily, '"' i
and said briefly:
"Well, then," cried
Robin, "stand forth now and defend thyself! tering and gasping, and gave himself a mighty
I 'll warrant thou wilt be no longer sleepy shake, which sent the water flying in a shower
when I shall have done with thee!" all about him.



When George could speak for laughing he
"Rest thee here and let the sun dry 'ee a
bit while I gather the pigs."
The beasts had again strayed, led by the
treacherous Sandy, who like a bad boy took
advantage of his master's unheeding.
George set off in a shambling run, and Robin
threw himself down full length on the ground.
Soon George came back with all his pigs; but
Sandy was not in favor this time, and George
took his oaken staff, and laid it lustily over the
pig's back till he squealed loud and shrill.
Take that for thy pay, base varlet that thou
art! said George, as seriously as if the red pig
were a naughty boy. Hast not eaten of my
porridge, and shared my oaten cake ? I '11 not
favor thee next time! "
For reply the Sandy grunted "Ugh, ugh,
ugh!" as he rubbed his smarting back against
a low shrub.
Glancing up at the sky, where hung the sun
in the middle, George exclaimed:
The morn hath passed right merrily. It is
noontide. Wilt share my oaten cake ? "
And he drew it from the pocket of his jerkin
and broke it in two.
"Right gladly," said Robin, "for such a
morning's bout whetteth one's appetite."
They sat them down on the bank, and each
munched his cake in silence, and washed it
down by a draught of water from the brook out
of a cup made of a dock-leaf.
"Hast had enough?" queried George of
Robin, whose nether garments were still steam-
ing in the sun's heat.
"Not I," quoth Robin; "nor till one or
t' other hath proven the better man. And I
bethink me, George o' Green, thou 'rt a better
man than first I thought thee." This last Robin
said to himself.
They set to again. This time both were in
earnest, each eager to prove himself the victor,
and the blows fell thick and fast on pates and
shoulders. Many a hard rap George gave, and
many a skilful blow Robin dealt; for the ad-
vantage George had in strength Robin made up
in skill.
The pigs were again forgot, and had long
since routed Farmer Arkell's swine from their

allotted corner of the glebe, and were enjoying
the forbidden ground as only pigs or vagrants
The sun began to decline, and still the staves
clashed, not so briskly and merrily, but warily
and carefully. Each blow was studied. Five
hours they had been at it since the nooning,
and the graying light betokened but a few
hours of day.
Robin heaved a mighty sigh, for he was well-
nigh spent, and, raising his hand to his head to
dash off drops of sweat that were trickling into
his eyes, his staff fell with a feeble blow against
George's, while the pig-minder's sapling came
down on Robin's head with a crash that laid
him low and well-nigh brained him. For a
moment he lay stunned. George ran to the
brook, and, gathering water into the bowl made
of his two hands, dashed it into Robin's face.
Robin came to himself, and rose up on his
elbow. Said George t6 his fallen foe:
"Hast had enough ? "
"Look I not like a man that knows when
he hath enough ?" said Robin, testily. Then
rising to his feet, he took George by the hand
and said:
"Thou 'rt the first to lay Robin Hood low."
George's chin fell, and his eyes stuck out;
for until that moment he had not known the
name of his friendly foe. -
"I I knew thee not!" he stammered,
" or by St. Dunstan-" and he choked so he
could say no more.
Nay, nay! said Robin, good-naturedly.
"Take it not so. Thou 'rt too good a man.to
mind pigs. Come! Go with me to Sherwood,
and I '11 give thee occupation worthy of thy
brawn and bone."
But Goody Hoskins -and the pigs and
Sandy-" faltered George.
I '11 have speech with the good dame, or
my gold will speak for me,"- thrusting his.
hand in his pocket. He drew it out empty,.
while a rueful look spread over his face.
" Never mind, 't will soon fill again. Wilt go
with me if I can win thee from the good dame ?"
George trembled and whimpered. "The
good dame, as thou call'st her, hath a bitter
tongue. She '11 rate thee up hill and down dale."'
Robin laughed, then his lip curled with scorn.


I 've ne'er seen matron or maid but I could
win a smile from by soft words. Enough. Cour-
age And let's set off to Goody Hoskins's cot."
They gathered the pigs and started, each man
using his staff, that but now had played so mer-
rily about the other's crown, to keep the drove
together. Betimes they reached the hovel of
Goody Hoskins. It was made of sticks and

, /'-

' ,/ '


stones plastered together with mud, and the
roof was of thatch, with a hole in the middle for
the smoke to go out. The dame was busy,
bending over a little fire, stirring porridge with
a long wooden ladle, for her supper. When
the squeal of the pigs broke on her ear, she
rose hastily, and a flush of anger spread over her
face. She hobbled to the door, and cried out:
"Thou lazy varlet! Late again! Only half
a porringer shall be thy portion to-night!"

"Good mother, the blame rests with me.
This man hath done me service that hath taken
his time; but had I known, it should have been
devoted to thee, believe me, naught would
have made me accept it. It hath ever been my
delight to yield to such as thee! "
The old dame's looks softened, and she made
If he hath done aught for thee thou 'rt right
welcome; but 't is little he does but eat and



Robin looked surprised at George,-who
stood the picture of fear, twisting his fingers and
shuffling his feet, but saying not a word,- and
wondered if he could be the same man that had
used his staff so lustily and valiantly against him.
Now he seemed too much affrighted to speak.
Robin advanced and took off his cap. Bow-
ing low, he said:





sleep and snore like one of his own pigs 1" and
she shook her crooked finger in George's face
till his knees knocked together with fright.
"Is not the fellow faithful in his minding ?"
No, no; a younker of ten could do better "
Why not get rid of so worthless a churl,
then ? said Robin, bending a look of contempt
on George.
Stupid George looked surprised, and was
about to protest when Robin gave him a glance
that warned him to be silent and let Robin do
the talking.
Farmer Arkell's son Peter asked but to-day
to mind my pigs along o' his, and he wants no
bed nor porridge, only the sixpence."
Then why not take him ?"
"Why, I ha' na the sixpence that he must
ha', he saith, every sennight. "
Those thou gavest George will do, I be-
think me," said Robin.
Oh," broke in the guileless George, I ha'
to gi'e 'em to Goody Hoskins to pay as fines to

Farmer Arkell for letting my pigs stray into his
part of the glebe. It 's a ha'penny every time."
Robin bent a shrewd look on the old dame,
and said:
Ah, I see! If I send thee five shillings
will that do, good mother, to pay the lad? I
have it not about me now. But I '11 send it
"Nor ever will!" snapped the old woman,
suspicious at once.
Good dame, didst ever hear of Robin Hood
wronging any woman ? "
"I never did. But thou 'rt not he. He
goeth forth with threescore followers and his
purse is always well lined! said the old dame
"Thou believes me not! I '11 soon prove
thee the truth!" and he drew from under his
cloak a silver horn on which he blew three
short blasts. After a little there was a crackling
in the bushes at the right, and a splash in the
brook, and a sound of rustling leaves, and




lo! -about him there stood a score of men
dressed in Lincoln green, all that were within
sound of his magic horn. They now thronged
closely to his side.
"What 's your will, good master?" asked
one, a youth who, under his mantle of green,
was clad in scarlet from top to toe.
"Only that thou tell yon dame who I am."
"Thou 'rt Robin Hood! "A free archer of
Sherwood forest." "And captain of a lusty
band of rangers," came in chorus from the
score of throats.
The old dame curtesied low, and said, no-
thing abashed:
I e'en believe thou art he Wilt share my
porridge? Yon lout can have none. His
share shall fall to thee."
Robin laughed and thanked her, but declined
her courtesy.
Hath any man of you five shillings ?"
Twenty hands dived into twenty pockets,
and all came out empty.
Each man stared at the other with blank
It 's not so great a matter. 'Easy come,
easy go!' To-morrow, good dame, I '11 pay
thee thy shillings, and Jock o' Nimble Heels
shall fetch them," said Robin, laying his hand
on the shoulder of a stripling that stood near.
Meantime take this as earnest of my faith,"
and he drew from his thumb a golden ring and
pressed it in her palm.
Now this lout may go with me ? pointing
with his thumb over his shoulder at George,
who had shrunk back at the rating tongue of
the dame.
Yes, yes; but forget not my silver," she said
George bent to Robin's ear and said, in a fal-
tering whisper:
"But I canna go wi' thee. I canna leave
"Sandy! Who might Sandy be?" asked
Robin in surprise. "Ah "- recollecting-
yon red shoat! and he placed his hands on
his hips and laughed long and loud. "Thou
shalt take thy pet along," he said softly.
"Leave it to me! "
"But he 's not mine i' the law."
"Pooh, pooh, I '11 make him thine "

Turning to Dame Hoskins, he said:
"Good dame, canst spare a pig for six good
bottles of sack ? It seems to me 't would taste
right well, roasted whole."
A look of fear crossed George's face, and
he was about to object when Robin trod on
his toe and made him cry out, thus turning his
attention, and interrupting his speech. The
dame seemed bent on haggling, but soon con-
sented to the bargain, and asked:
"Which wilt 'ee have ? "
"Oh, anyone! The easiest-caught!" said
Robin, with a knowing wink at George, who at
once chased off after the whole drove, and soon
came back with Sandy squealing and squirm-
ing under his arm.
Robin's men all grinned at their master's
cunning, and he himself hid the smile on his
lips by stroking his mustache.
"To the forest, men! For the sun declines.
The wood-dove even now sobs for his homing-
mate, and the nightingale will soon sing from
yonder copse."
They all set off smartly toward the forest,
Robin and George, with Sandy under his arm,
bringing up the rear. The men sang cherrily,
accompanied by the squeals and grunts of
"Oh, give me my staff of whitest thorn;
Oh, give me my bow of yew;
Oh, give me the dun deer's dappled side;
And my arrow stanch and true.
Tirralee, tirrala, tirralee!
There be none so happy, none so free,
As the men that live under the Greenwood tree."

When at last they reached the forest, the
moon, cut clean in the middle like half a warden
pie, lit up but faintly the forest paths; but they
made their way through them as readily as
if the noontide sun himself filtered through the
laced boughs of beech and oak over their heads,
making a tunnel of greenery. The nightingale
sang softly from its bower in a wild-rose, and
from the top of an oak, near to the road, an
owl suddenly called out its never-answered
question, Who, who ?"
"Why, Robin Hood and his merry men,"
gaily answered Jock o' Nimble Heels.
Hey, youngster, bandy not words with yon
bird of night, for he can blight thee with his



spell. 'T is best to be friends with his ilk,"
said grim John o' Groats.
For a few moments there was silence. Twigs
crackled underfoot, and forest sounds that had
been all unnoticed made themselves heard, the
falling of leaves and the stir of sleeping birds,
the crickets' homely song, and the distant creak
of frogs. A gleam of red flashed on their sight,
and silence fled.
"'T is good Friar Tuck and Little John
roasting the deer," said Will Scarlett.
And each man gave a joyous shout. A few
moments brought them to the trysting tree, and
into the full glare of the huge fire where the
two men were busily roasting a deer for their
"Is the buck roasted to a turn?" queried
Robin. Hunger, they say, is a good sauce;
and, by my troth, we bring our share to the
feast this eve."
Ay, ay; a minute's patience, and 't is done,"
said Friar Tuck as he blew a breath coolingly
upon the back of his hand, which had been for
a moment too near the fire.
But whom have we here?" he asked in
surprise, as George's huge bulk was revealed
in the leaping flame.
'T is George o' Green, erstwhile a valiant
pig-minder to as cross-grained an old dame as
e'er stirred porridge." And Robin roared
again as he thought of George's fear of Goody
Hoskins, and the men joined in, as George
gravely set down the grunting pig.
All eyes were bent on him, and he bore their
looks but ill, shuffling his feet, and twisting his
fingers; and keeping his bashful eyes turned to-
ward the ground.
"Thou hast snared a brave bawcock, good
Robin," sneered Little John.
Robin made answer, He who hath a mind
to beat a dog will easily find a stick. Wait
till he hath supped and try him in a bout at
wrestling, good Little John !"
"That I will; and now, if thou sayest so!"
"No; after," said Robin decisively. "We
are both nigh famished-have only fed upon
one oat-cake since morn."
At that moment Friar Tuck announced the
buck was done to a turn, and all fell to. After
they had eaten excellently, and had rested at

full length on the sward for a space, Robin
"Now, good Little John, since thou art so
eager, just try yon younker in a wrestling bout."
'T were a pity to bruise so much brawn "
laughed Little John.
The two men took position, and at the fall
of an oaken twig set to. The fire leaped high,
and the half moon added her misty light to the
strange scene. The men writhed and twisted,
this way and that, till their breath came in
gasps like those of hunted stags. Then all of
a sudden Little John came sprawling at full
length on the ground at Robin's feet, flung
clean over George's shoulder.
"'T were ne'er done before! panted Little
John, ruefully.
We must all have our fall, 't would seem,"
quoth Robin, with a wise smile.
After George had rested a little Jock o' Nim-
ble Heels said to hin: "Well, good George
o' Green, canst leap yon hazel clump i' the
widest part ?"
This was Jock's great feat, and at it he had
ne'er been worsted. George only grinned, and
nodded yes."
Thereupon young Jock threw off his jerkin
of leather, and running swiftly for four or five
yards, cleared at a bound the thicket he had
chosen; but as he descended his feet scraped
the other side. A cheer greeted him, while the
men nodded to each other as if to say, He
will ne'er beat that! "
George rose, shook back his red hair, bent
toward the ground, swung his long arms to and
fro, and in one tremendous bound his great bulk
rose with the lightness of a bird, cleared the
bush, and landed full four feet beyond. There
was no cheer to greet him -only deep silence,
for they were too surprised to speak.
Robin called him to his side and asked:
Canst use the short cudgel ? "
"A little, good master," answered George,
Here, Friar Tuck, art thou willing to show
this clown how handy thou art i' the matter of
short cudgels?"
Friar Tuck threw back his cowl, slipped off
his sandals, and, baring his brawny arm to
the shoulder, cried Come on!" as he bran-



dished his cudgel -a club of white thorn about
three feet long and thick as a man's arm.
Hast no cudgel, George?" asked Robin.
"Well, go to yonder tree,"-pointing to a
little thorn growing near,- and pluck one."
The men all grinned, for they thought it but
a pleasant jest of Robin's. To their amaze,
the man walked to the tree, chose a branch,
and broke it from the trunk as if 't were an
osier twig. Friar Tuck threw down his cudgel.
"I can fight fist to fist with man, but not
with the evil one," quoth he.
"'T is thy true work! shouted the men to-
gether. They crowded round George, and
grasped his hand heartily in congratulation.

"Think you he 's worthy to belong to the
merry men o' Sherwood ? asked Robin.
"Ay, ay," came a chorus of answers.
"And, my men, there be something more.
He hath this day beaten me and my good oak
staff in a bout lasting from morn till nigh set of
sun; but was himself worsted by the clattering,
unruly little tongue in a woman's head."
A shout of laughter greeted this, and jests
flew from mouth to mouth.
Henceforth," said Robin, let it be said,
when one excels in anything,' Thou 'rt as good
as George o' Green'; for he hath beaten each
of us in what he does most excel."
And so it is to this day the proverb stands.





WE who live in the temperate zone are
accustomed to Nature on her best behavior.
We see her orderly ways in the woods, where
pines and oaks, poplars and maples, alders and
willows, and other forest trees have roots that
grow down into the ground and limbs that
grow properly up and out into the air.
But elsewhere Nature has other moods and
methods. In a tropical forest there is none
of this air of dignity and good principle. The
odd pranks, the wild absurdities, the vegetable
freaks, which she is there guilty of, make a dif-
ference that is astonishing.
Trees apparently grow upside down, and
assume all sorts of eccentric shapes. Great
dragging vines sprawl over everything, twisting
and distorting the poor tired trees until they
are crippled for life with what looks like rheu-
matism. The heavy rains and the hot sun
make the plants grow rapidly, and there are
fierce fights to see which shall win a little
space in all that tangle. Such pushing, such
Then there is the orchid, clinging fringe-like
everywhere-frail and lovely, swinging back
and forth in the soft air; but it has no con-
science. It will not do a stroke of honest
work, and is determined to live on some one
else, in which it certainly succeeds.
And there too is the wild pineapple (called in
the West Indies the "pine"), which takes root
in the rich mold lying on the upper sides of the
largest branches of the mightiest and oldest
of the trees. Where its diverging leaves start
a cup is formed, which catches the rain and
stores it up for the dry season. In this water
little tree-frogs and small crabs live; and it is

told that years ago one of the expeditions sent
against the fierce marooners in the mountains
of Jamaica would have perished from thirst had
it not been for the little "pines" and their tiny
But of all the vegetable inhabitants of the
tropical woods the strangest is that one whose
seed, it is said, will die if it falls upon the
ground, and which only grows when it finds a
resting-place on the rock or a fence, or on an-
other tree, where there is not a particle of earth
or moisture; and in' all the West India forest
this tree is the greatest criminal. It has a long
and beautiful Latin name, which, it might be
supposed, would have some subduing influence
upon it, but it does not seem to. This plant
is the wild fig.
Let us imagine that some hungry bird, tak-
ing in its beak one of these figs, flies to a
neighboring tree, and, alighting on a lofty
branch, eats the fruit. One seed is left. The
sun is warm and the air moist, and after a while
the tiny germ begins to sprout, and the minute
leaves, breaking their thin shell, shoot upward
-a tender little innocent, putting up its slender
arms in a "please-help-me sort of way; while
its spider-like legs are reaching out to get a
firm hold on its aerial home. The little plant
seems so harmless, and the hospitable forest
giant can not know to what a robber and
monster it has given a resting-place. After a
while the fig sends up a stem, and its root,
peeping over the edge of the lofty branch, finds
the ground eighty or one hundred feet below
But nature has endowed this sprig with daring,
and, nothing daunted, the slender thread leaps
into the air, and, feeding upon the moisture with


which the hot atmosphere is laden, it drops
slowly and boldly to the ground and there
takes root. As the plant grows, it lets fall other
long feeders, one by one, which descend to the
earth. Some of the tentacles have by this time
found that the tree itself affords an easy de-
scent, and one day a root starts along the
branch, and, reaching the trunk, trips lightly
doWn its spiral stairs, and thus reaches the soil.
Others, finding this way so easy, follow, and so
the roots increase in number and size, nourish-


13" -

far from Northeast Point, on the coast of the
beautiful island of Jamaica. The trunk of the
larger is about thirty-six feet in circumference.
It is composed of a mass of great columns,
twisted and strained together like tangled and
knotted cables of enormous size. Some of them,
twelve and fourteen inches through, are sepa-
rated from the main trunk. Apparently a rock
formed the foundation for this great tree. The
other has displaced what was once a tree about
a foot in diameter, which can still be seen in

~~2.- r4 -& ~5, ..rc

ing their master above. It has now grown in
strength and vigor, and, wrapping themselves
around the trunk'of the tree that supports them,
the roots strain and press upon it cruelly. It
is a struggle for life, but their forest host is
doomed. Slowly and surely they envelop it.
The embrace of the fig is death. At last the
great tree dies, and little by little, rotting branch
by branch, it falls to pieces, and its place is
taken by the ogre that has strangled it.
The fig-trees shown in the illustration are not

the midst of the twisted strands of the fig which
make up a trunk three feet in thickness. Its
roots sprawl over the ground like so many big
The wild fig belongs to the same family as
the banyan. It is found in the East and West
Indies and in Australia, and has the same
destructive habits everywhere. Sometimes it
grows to an immense size. The wood is soft,
and the natives make bowls, trays, and spoons
of it. The fruit is about as large as an apricot.



(Based pon an actual incident.)


I WAS riding on the big red-and-black engine
of the "Flying Bluenose," the crack train of
the Dominion Atlantic Railway. We were
roaring down from Halifax through the heart
of the Evangeline country," making swift time
and few stops. In the long, straight runs be-
tween stations the burly engineer, Bill Steeves,
found time to talk to me, though his eye never
ceased to scan the lines of shining metal stretch-
ing ahead.
I began to question Steeves about railway
accidents, all unmindful of the fact that it is

contrary to railroad etiquette to talk of acci-
dents when on the train. The engineer evaded
my queries for a time, calling my attention now
to a fine bit of landscape, and now to the speed
we were making on the down grade, till at last
I realized my error.
Oh, I beg your pardon!" I cried, half
laughingly, but with sincere apology. I
forgot the time-honored superstition of the
No," said Steeves, quickly, I 'm not a mite
superstitious. The truth is, I 've been mighty


fortunate so far, ever since I took charge of an
engine. I only pray that Providence will be
Sast pd in the future as in the past."
.' : Do you really mean to say," I asked, in
some surprise, that you have never been in a
serious railroad accident in all the years since
you first became an engineer ? "
Since I took charge of an engine," was the
answer, there 's never been any one killed on
a train of mine. Two or three little break-
downs I 've had, but only just enough to shake
us up a bit -nothing more. But since you 're
asking, I '11 tell you about a smash-up I was in
when I was fireman on a freight engine on a
railroad in Michigan-"
i' What railroad was it ?" I asked, interrupt-
ing him.
I Steeves looked grave. It is n't exactly fair
to mention names; in fact, it is n't friendly or
lucky, when you 're telling of an accident on a
railroad. As I was saying, I 'm not a mite su-
perstitious, but we 're bound to respect other
people's superstitions, say I."
"Again, I beg pardon! I exclaimed. "Never
mind what road, as long as you tell me the
Well, it 's not much of a yarn, either," per-
sisted Steeves. "There was nobody killed.
But it was a pretty complete smash-up, and
mighty exciting while it lasted; so I '11 tell you
about it as nigh as I can remember. The
strangest thing about it was that it threatened
the ruin of a whole town of six or seven thou-
sand inhabitants."
"Ah What town ? I inquired, my curios-
ity again getting the better of me.
Steeves smiled mysteriously.
"If I told you what town, you 'd know what
road I referred to," said he. "We '11 call the
town Jonesville, because that is n't its name,
and its real name begins with some other
"My engine was hauling an oil-train. The
time of year was October. We had had a long
spell of dry weather, and fires were beginning
to break out in the woods all over the country.
That afternoon the air was hazy with smoke,
and the sun went down like a ball of hot cop-
per in the thick sky.
"About three miles above Jonesville the line
VOL. XXIII.-124.

crosses a shallow little river which, running
through the heart of the town, supplies water-
power for two big mills. The mills were at the
lower end of the town, where the water falls
some thirty feet into a deep ravine. At the
place where the railway crossed the river, the
banks were steep, and the bridge was a piece
of wooden trestle-work.
"As we thundered down the grade leading
to the bridge,--which was hidden from view
by a curve,--we noticed that the fires were
getting close to the track on both sides.
"' It '11 be bad if the fire gets into the bridge,'
said Bob Macdonald, the driver, to me, as I
heaved a shovel of coal into the fire-hole. It
was dusk by this time. I looked out ahead
before I answered. Then I said:
"'There does n't seem to be much fire in
that direction. I reckon the bridge won't get
scorched this time.'
"Three minutes later we were round the
curve, and in full view of the bridge. To our
horror, there were the vicious little blue-and-
orange tongues of the fire licking away hungrily
at the tall trestles.
Down brakes!'screeched the whistle wildly.
But there was no stopping that rushing mass
of loaded tank-cars. With what seemed to us
undiminished speed we slid down the burning
"'Jump for it!' yelled Macdonald. We
sprang, almost together; and the brakemen
behind followed our example. The speed was,
of course, slackened by this time.
"End over end I went down the embank-
ment, and fetched up in a mossy pool not ten
yards from the gulch. I staggered to my feet.
The engine was just crashing through the
bridge. Down piled the oil-cars on top of it,
like so many sheep playing follow-my-leader
over a fence. I remember noting how they
kicked up behind, just as sheep do, as they
went over the edge. The next minute the
flames were roaring up like mad. The oil had
None of the fellows was much hurt but
Bob Macdonald; and he, though his arm was
broken, was able to crawl up on to the track,
where we huddled to watch the dreadful sight.
Then a strange and terrifying thing took place.



The flames ran out swiftly from the burning
ruins over the top of the water, just as if the
river itself was on fire. The oil was being
carried down by the current.
"'Great Heavens!' wailed Macdonald, 'the
whole of Jonesville will go, sure. In thirty
minutes that will be a river of fire rushing
through the town!'
"At these words a pang tightened around my
heart. You '11 smile when I tell you why. On
the day before, when my train was running up the
other way through Jonesville I had chanced to
catch a glimpse of a little lad, with fluffy yellow
curls, on the balcony of a house right by the
edge of the water. The little lad had smiled
and waved his hand at me, and looked after
me some way, as if he was lonely, and wanted
to come. I carried his look with me all day.
About that time I had a little lad of my own,
with curls something like this one's, away East.
My boy was a good deal bigger than this one;
but maybe a streak of homesickness made me
sort of sentimental, you know.
"Well, at those words of Macdonald's it
was n't the town I thought of, but the little
lad at the window.
"' I '11 warn the town!' I shouted. Then I
scrambled down the bank, on the side above
the fire, got across the river by alternately
swimming and wading, and started on the run
down the track toward Jonesville.
In those days I was a smart long-distance
runner, and five miles was my pet distance.
But it was one thing running on a well-made
racing-ground, and quite another on the irregu-
larly placed sleepers of a railroad "
I should think so I interjected feelingly.
I had tried it more than once.
But I tell you," continued Steeves," I made
good time. The river was swift, and those
sliding flames had a big start; but in five min-
utes I was abreast of them. Soon I was well
ahead; and then I lost them behind a turn of
the banks.
Before I reached the town my eyes felt full
of blood, my heart seemed as if it would burst,
but my legs could have gone on forever. The
streets were lighting up. I began shouting, as
I ran, 'Fire! Fire!' as vigorously as my dry
throat and heaving lungs would permit. There

was no sign of fire to be seen, but the won-
dering people caught up the cry, and by the
time I reached the engine-house everything was
ready for a start, and the firemen were looking
anxiously about them to see where they were
wanted. I told my story; and before it was
through the engine was tearing toward the wa-
terside as fast as the horses could gallop.
For half a mile above the town the river ran
a straight course. When we reached the water-
side there was nothing to be seen. Presently a
murmur of incredulity arose among the crowd;
but it changed suddenly into cries of horror as
a red line of flames appeared around the bend
and rolled noiselessly toward the imperiled town.
"Houses, many of them built out on wooden
piles, were crowded thickly along the very edge
of the water, and interspersed with great heaps
of sawed lumber--deals, clapboards, shingles,
laths. The town had a good water-service, and
all the hose that could be got was fastened to
the hydrants. Engine and hydrants were pres-
ently playing great streams along the water-
fronts of exposed buildings; while the lumber
was rapidly tumbled into the current, in the
hope that most of it-would escape over the falls.
For my own part, I had run at once to the
house where the yellow-haired child had greeted
me. There the little lad was. He was in an
upper window, clapping his hands at the ap-
proaching terror. Then he was snatched away;
and a minute later a lady, I suppose his mo-
ther, appeared in the street, and carried him
away to some less perilous neighborhood. I
was relieved at once of my curious anxiety, and
turned again to watch the stream.
"The blazing oil formed a sort of phalanx from
shore to shore, and spread for some forty or fifty
yards up stream. As it passed the waterside
buildings, all the streams from engine and hy-
drant were turned upon the threatened points.
The invading flames were thus foiled. They
failed to gain a foothold in any part of the
town. But at last they reached the two big
mills below town, one on each side of the river.
"And now they found their opportunity. The
various sluices and waterways led them into the
heart of the great wooden structures; and in a
very few minutes, in spite of the utmost efforts
of the firemen, both were in a blaze.



"The crowd drew back, and we all stood in
silence watching the splendid and awful scene.
Just then a man in light-gray clothes pushed
wildly through the throng, rushed across the
plank way leading to the first mill, and disap-
peared in the building. The plank way itself
was already on fire. It seemed to me, and to
everyone, that the man had gone to certain
death. A murmur of horror arose.
'Who is it ?' I asked. And some one near
me answered, It 's Sam Byers, bookkeeper
of the Company. The mill has just made big
shipments; and if the papers are burned, it '11
be as bad as the loss of the mill itself.'
Two, three, four, five minutes passed, and
Byers did not reappear. I could 't stand it.
Won't any one go in after him ?' I cried.
"No one answered.
"' Whereabouts is the office ?' I asked.
Yonder, in the right-hand corner !' some
one said; 'but nobody can get there now.'
I had my own idea about that, however. I
knew a good deal about saw-mills, and had
now detected a way by which I calculated I
could get in--and get out again safely, too.
I ran down the bank, below the edge of the
fall, and swung myself in among the timbers of
the under-work, which dripped with a ceaseless
shower of spray. In less than no time I was up
into the mill, in the midst of the terror of smoke
and flame. I was already deafened by the roar
of the water; but, even above that, the roar of
the fire made itself heard.
I pointed straight for the office; but before
I had gone ten feet I stumbled over something
soft in the smoke. It was Byers. I dragged
him back to where I had started from, and then
down into the spray, where the air was clear.
He was still clutching a big book under his
arm; and, seeing that he 'd risked so much to
save that book, I took his neckerchief and tied
the book to him for safety. Then I looked
about to see how I was going to climb out with
that senseless weight.
"It was n't half a minute, however, before

Byers came to himself. He had been suddenly
overcome by the smoke. He had fine nerve,
and was able to work along with a little help
from me. And, there, on the wet rocks, were
half a dozen men, who had seen my risky ven-
ture and climbed down to try to help me out.
We got Byers, book and all, over to the shore
without much difficulty. Some of his friends led
him home. I myself, with two or three others,
.seeing that the wet bushes screened us from the
heat, stayed there a bit longer to watch. Truly,
it was the greatest sight I ever saw,- the flames
and the cataract, all mixed up together, as it
were. But the blazing oil did n't get below the
falls. It got so tumbled about in the foam and
spray that it was smothered before it reached
the bottom. By and by the mill buildings fell
in, the greater part of them went down into the
roaring chasm, and a few glowing timbers were
all that was left to light up the darkness."
As Steeves stopped his narrative the outskirts
of Windsor rose about us, and our speed began
to slacken.
"But what did the good citizens of Jones-
ville have to say to you for saving their town?"
I asked.
Steeves was busy with his engine, and for a
moment did not answer. Then he said:
"Oh, they did the handsome thing. In fact,
as I found afterward, I was burned some, and I
had to 'lay up' for a few days at Jonesville.
The town council gave me a fine address of
thanks, with a good fat purse to emphasize it.
And the mill company gave me this gold
watch for saving their bookkeeper -or their
papers I don't know exactly which."
I made no further remark, thinking that
Steeves was for the present too much engrossed
to heed me. But as the train rolled slowly into
the station he said:
And who do you suppose that bookkeeper
I saved was ? "
"Who ?" I inquired.
"Why, the father of the little lad with fluffy
yellow curls! Queer was n't it?"



OF mrH-


ON the top of a steep and high hill there -f .
stood a great castle, the home and fortress of a -
brave knight. The road that led up the-
hill went zigzag because it was so steep,.
and, even then, from the bottom to the top
was no easy journey.
Yet every few days the long, hard climb
was made by the patient pack-horse who
brought certain supplies from the village '-
below., "- *' '- .-
One night, just as this hard-working /-;K -
creature was coming toward the castle after -
his usual trip, he met in the road the knight's -
favorite charger a
mettlesome, high-bred
steed, the sight of
whom always made
the pack-horse unhap-
py with his lot.
The man who was
driving the cart cried,
"Whoa !" and, jump-
ing from his perch, entered into a li
walked about for a talk.
few minutes, talking Beautiful w
with the stableman their observed
who was exercising charger. It 's a pleas
the charger. And the to be alive on such a day."
two horses, being left Humph !" grunted the pa
near together, likewise "A LITTLE TALK." horse, rather ungraciously; but





was tired. I could enjoy any sort of day if I
had nothing more to do than such lazy gentle-
men as you! "
Your work must indeed be tiring," was the
charger's kindly reply. "The rough road from
the village is no joke to tired hoofs."
"None, indeed,"
the old pack-horse /
agreed. "It seems
hard that I should /
have to travel it so ',
often. Why should ,w
not some of you /
others take a turn
now and again?"
"Each has his
duties. If it were .
necessary, I would
gladly do my share,"
the charger said, for /
the hint of the pack-
horse was not to be
mistaken; "but, to
tell you the truth,
my friend, I am not .
sorry that I wear
the trappings while --- -
you haul the cart.
Very likely, though,
when the bugles
sound the onset, the
cart won't seem
quite so heavy!"
The carter came back, climbed up, and
drove on; and there were no further words
between the horses.
He talks glibly enough," said the pack-
horse, as he tugged again at the traces, but it
is easy to see that he knows that his talk is all
bosh. Anybody can go to war, tricked out in
a shining uniform, with trumpets blowing, ban-
ners waving, and all one's gallant friends gal-
loping alongside; besides, a war does n't come
every day, and most of the time these lazy aris-
tocrats simply eat their heads off in their fine
stables, or have their grooms to walk them
up and down for fear they won't get exercise
enough. Useless creatures! If it was n't for
them, there would n't be any need for these
heavy bags of corn I have to drag. As for me,

I fail to see the use of these high-strung, pam-
pered, lazy, supercilious- "
But just then he came to the stable-door, and
Not long afterwards the country was invaded
by its enemies, and for a time they carried all

before them. Their attack being unexpected,
they met little resistance. Towns were taken;
castles were stormed, pillaged, and burned; and
meanwhile the forces of the invaded land were
scattered here and there in fancied security,
since in those old days news had to come afoot
or on horseback.
So one evening there arrived a messenger at
the castle, warning the knight that a force of
the enemy was approaching, with the intention
of destroying his stronghold. The messenger
had been pursued, and indeed had narrowly
escaped with his life a bullet having pierced
his leather jerkin, and wounded him slightly in
the shoulder.
"How long before they will be here ? How
much time have we left?" asked the knight.




"About four hours," was the answer.
"It is scant warning," said the knight, anx-
iously. "There is a mere chance that I can
reach the city in time to bring back the garri-
son. If it can be done, I have the steed that
can be trusted to cover the distance; but there
is not an instant to lose."
Directing his squires to look to the needs of
the wounded messenger, the knight ordered his
charger to be saddled and bridled.
No sooner was the charger ready than the
knight sprang to his back, struck
-;-' spurs into his sides, and was off
q down the hill at breakneck speed.
As horse
and rider shot
,' down the hill,
They passed
: f the old pack-
horse, who
was dragging
; the cart up-
S ward to the
castle. There
was time only
for a word in


"Where away? said the pack-horse.
"For help i was the charger's reply as he
bounded past.
When the pack-horse reached the castle, he
found everything in confusion. Provisions were
being carried to the great keep-the strong
tower on which the defenders meant to put
their last reliance. Timbers and earth were
formed into barricades; bridges were cut away,
leaving only the drawbridge by which to cross
the moat; sheaves of arrows were piled here
and there behind the battlements, and great
machines for throwing bolts or stones were fit-
ted together.
When the pack-horse was able to exchange
a few words with one of his stable mates, he
soon learned the state of affairs; and then his
heart began to beat loudly.
Four hours! he exclaimed,- "only four
hours, in which to go to the city and bring
back the garrison ? Why, then we 're lost! I
could n't do it in eight."
"But the knight's charger may," answered
the other.
What that lazy, delicate creature ? said
the pack-horse, disdainfully. He ? he will
drop in his tracks before he's gone a half-hour !"
He 's an Arabian," said the stable-mate,
"and he will go till he dies."
Then both were hitched to a long,
squared timber, and needed every breath
to budge it.
The hours wore away, and just as the
van of the enemy's forces were seen
upon the brow of a distant hill,
a trumpet call was heard, and
down in the valley the watch-
ers upon the castle-tower
made out a rider coming
at a good rate of speed.
SUp, up the steep road
he came, his horse scarcely
slacking his speed even on
that slope; and behold, it
was the knight upon his
charger, and behind him
came the serried ranks of
the garrison
So the charger saved the
OUNDED PAST." castle and all its inmates.







And when next the pack-horse met the Ara-
bian, he humbly begged permission to rub
noses which was cordially granted.
I see," said the pack-horse to the charger,
"that the work of the world is of more than
one sort. I am ready and willing to drag up
sacks of corn for you the rest of your life."

Nonsense!" the Arabian replied, laughing;
" you would have done the same as I, if you
had been trained for it. Each for all, and all
for each,' is my motto."
It shall be mine, also, from this day forth,"
said the pack-horse.
And they remained good friends.



The Three


There were
three owls
in Kankakee,
And they were


a, j

--.JOH QN--.INTT --b-
. /

a hollow

"" And when
a a cruel huntsman
P-pezWi came, those three
wise owls to slay
-0f^ They gogglecl
so re- proachfully
He turned



POWDER-HORNS have become quite rare, and
are curious objects for the study of the collector
and the historian.
Like coins and medals, from which the col-
lector may find out many interesting facts
about the past, powder-horns which have been
decorated with pictures and inscriptions give
much information concerning the geography and
history of famous places and events.
The use of horns of animals for carrying gun-
powder was introduced into America from Eng-
land and France, but. the exact date when they
were first used in Europe is not known. Cer-
tainly it was not less than three hundred and
fifty years ago, as can be seen from the dates
on specimens in European museums.
Before improved guns and cartridges were
used, the curved horn was the best device for
carrying gunpowder in war time for the use
of the muzzle-loaders and flint-locks, and the
horns were used even with some of the later
guns-those that were fired by percussion-
A desirable horn could be had easily and
cheaply. It was quickly prepared for holding
the gunpowder, and, moreover, it was light,
and yet strong enough to withstand the rough
usage to which horns were often subjected, as
in skirmish-fighting or making long marches
through the wilderness. The horns neither rust
nor decay, even if buried in the earth for a
century; and, if the plugs are properly fitted,
the powder will keep dry although carried for
days in the rain. They can be floated, or
dipped in the water, without harm to the pow-
der within, this being a matter of the greatest
importance during the Colonial and Revolu-
tionary wars, when bridges were hardly thought
of, and armies had to wade through swamps
and streams of water, often up to the necks of
the soldiers.
In order to prepare the horn for the soldier's
VOL. XXIII.- 125.

use, the ends were stopped by wooden plugs
and were securely fastened to a strap which
was worn under the left arm and over the right
shoulder, the curved horn fitting the left side
of the waist of the wearer; and a more graceful
equipment could not be desired.
During the Colonial times and during the
Revolution, when a soldier volunteered or was
ordered out for active service, he was generally
required to come provided with four articles,
namely: gun, powder-horn, blankets, and knap-
sack. The Government furnished the rest of
the accoutrements and the outfit of clothing.
A military order required every powder-horn
to be marked with the.owner's name, so that it
could be quickly returned to him after being
filled at the powder-wagon.
In order to make a good powder-horn, a
new and suitably-curved horn was chosen; the
inside pith was removed by soaking or boiling
the horn in water containing a little potash;
then, after being scraped and cleaned, the horn
was fitted with a wooden bottom, the point was
shortened by sawing off the end, the smaller
end was bored to secure an opening, and after
the outside was cleaned and polished, it was
As a rule, each soldier decorated his own
powder-horn; but if one was not skilled in the
art he employed a comrade to do it for him,
perhaps in return for the favor taking his
friend's tour of duty standing guard, or doing
some other service for him. Professional en-
gravers also did some very fine work.
Only the rudest engraving could be done by
means of a pocket-knife, as the blunt blade was
apt to slip and break the lines. Some horns
were marked quite successfully by picking the
surface with the point of a needle. But the
best work was done with the engraver's tool.
If a horn was dry or old its glassy surface had
to be first softened by hot water; and profes-


.-- -' ,

A i-.:.. r .' E : T -

signal i I',-,r -
e.rs often rs:ioakdl
the horns in some yel-
Slow or orange dye to impart
an amber color to them; a rub-
bing of brown paint followed, to fill
the markings made by the engraver, and
the process was finished by a polish with
emery-cloth and oil.
If an officer had gained the admiration of
his command by bravery or success, they ex-
pressed their regard or esteem by presenting a
fin.-!y-'Jeco:rati.d .o .iid r- .:rn t: limi. A.\ttr the
Baitlte of Dinirniton ;Genr:iai Stark tis rhu=:
h nc.r.:.re--I l.\- h-is s..dier: i'.r h. l rillant l, :i er-
ship. General \\Vahiritron ai : r.:..' e: hIorn
foi hii. ser~ :is in the Frrn,,h arn:l In'ijn V"ar
The hi,rns i mv:le nrid d.i.:.cr *redl irinm. rhel
pen.-od ol'earl French Colo:ri:il i ar_, fromi 1739
to 1745, ]ie:n ulhe i.,ting m thi-_ N -\
England Srtati-, ar-: quite plain when :.irnprarcil
wirlh tr)he u.eld i thI- Fr-cr: wj l Indiian
Wui. \i hn tlih. invest and nmi 't artistic ui:.rk
w.as d.ne:, l'r surpr,.fmLg the t Re\.: .t n. r
War pr[oirlucrtijls.


The Erit;dh :.it f amn v.a.i 3 prominent
t'eatLire, t.Le-riing large _:,:p e ,:l t surface ,
and making a very beautiful decoration. In
i755, when the last French
War began, one of the objects
of the British armies was to
force the French out of every
post south of the St. Lawrence
River, and finally to drive them
from Canada. The fighting
throughout this campaign took
place in Pennsylvania, Mary-
i tnd, and Ne,, V- orl, rhe ii-,
trior o, t e Stl rer Len,_ '
then a ci mpir. te t i ,ilJ.r-
n..":. 1, and the j ,r10L- r ui, te
being I ,lr,,cj unknl.o, n
e'.:~ip t Il It ul-tra-
der-. 1Thki a c ..,

S.. aued
a lie fea-
turt to appear

expeditior are :|iiton tle orn ofse
sho 'ini tie nirtlir .: n ti t .nirj the
country portrayed varying greatly in extent.
Many begin with the city of New or, showing
Ihe route:- ot G_-;rer. l Brad-
do,.k's arid Colr.l Bouuet's
expedition,-, are quite rutre, vd,ih: dhose
showin__ the n.,rtiern routes are nurmerotus, the
country portrayed varying greatly in extent.
Many begin with the city of New York, showing

in. ~ i~: h.



'4.- r "
its church st s t d by t cnhurc

tonal weathercock. Then came Schene, -
and othc-r

ings, an:d its Iharbor
anrd hipping. Alba,-ly
was pictured surround,-d by
a stockade, and crowned by a fort on ahill, and
its church steeples topped by the conmven-
tional weathercock. Then came Schene,-.
tady, and the numerous forts and mili-
tary posts. Such maps include the
Hudson and Mohawk river regions,
the country and the lakes in New
York, and sometimes the intervening
sections of Canada to Montreal and
These were not only handsome in
appearance but extremely useful to
both the officers and the men, as the
maps showed the roads and told
where supplies could be obtained
when needed. At that time few
printed maps existed even for the
use of the higher officers, who were
forced to depend on these horns for
maps of the wilderness, especially
those showing the routes of the fur-
traders from Canada to New York,
and giving the various camping-places.
The maps also told where boats could
be obtained to make the voyage eas-
ier, and to make the land journey as
short as possible; for roads were al-
most unknown, and the trails were
often very roundabout. A soldier

rl s tli,-. gri- nitCt %.tlu e ur-on cli

kett orr rifl atid

parior~s I* v1j


E.F.% P.' .- T C .. Irr ..


during years of dangers and hardships, as his the regular size, so that they could be placed
greatest friends. He learned to love and conveniently in the pocket.
cherish them; and at the close of Between the years
the war he hung them upon l 1755 and i760, about
the %all of his ho :,over .. eighteen hundred
thbe great frelIlace. army horns were used
whlere they. wrre .i" in the English and
co:,nstnt r-.nmind- .7 American armies en-
ers of his %ar- gaged with the French,
experiences. .. and probably the same

He never parted with them, but at life's close
willed them to his descendants, or to some dear
One old soldier, though he left much prop-
erty, when making his will disposed first of all
of that which he most prized his ornamented
Every officer and private soldier carried a
powder-horn. Mounted officers and others
who carried pistols used horns smaller than

number existed in the
American Army du-
ring the Revolution.
Each horn used in the
Continental Army was
marked with the ini-
tials or name of the
soldier who carried it.
The spirit of the times
is shown by the sen-
timents engraved on
the horns, and daily
read by the owner
and his companions,
such as these:
Liberty or Death.
In defence of Liberty.
My Liberty I '11 have or
my Death.
Liberty, no Slavery.
Death before Dishonor.
Now is the time ye
hearts of oak,
To give our foes a fatal
Horns were last
used in the war with
Mexico in 1848. After
that they rapidly dis-
appeared. Many were
shortened to make

them more convenient for hunting purposes;
some of them were cleaned, the valuable re-
cords and engravings upon them being scraped
off and thus lost.
Of the horns shown in the pictures the one
called The Nicholas is the only geographical
horn" known that shows the route of the fur-
traders from Oswego to Albany. The streams
were used whenever there was sufficient water
to float a canoe. The date of this horn is be-




fore 1756, as Fort William Henry,
which was built in 1756, is not
marked upon it. In 1758
it was mounted in sil-
ver and presented
to MIr. Samuil .n

horn v.,_ sei.
denTlr made
by or ,or


a British officer who spent some time in Cuba
and then in the Colonies of America.
Another excellent specimen of the decorated
powder-horn is shown on this page. It is
known as the Dorchester Heights horn.
This intensely interesting relic of the Revolu-
tion was presented in 1881 to the Massachu-
setts Historical Society at Boston by James
Lord Bowes of Liverpool, England. It shows
the British and American works on Boston Neck

as they existed on March 9, 1776, eight days
before the British evacuated the city and the
American army marched in. The British fleet
is shown in the harbor
The illustrations in this article are taken from
a few pictures selected from a collection of
over four hundred water-colors of military pow-
der-horns. These water-colors were painted by
Professor R. A. Grider, Canajoharie, New York,
and are owned by him.






[Begrn in the June number.]



HAVING given us some description of the
manners and customs of the Mongol Tartars,
Marco Polo works his way southwestward to-
ward the frontier of Tibet. In the country of
Sinju (as he calls Sining-fu, the Chinese city
nearest the Tibetan frontier), he saw many in-
teresting beasts and birds. In describing some
of these he says:

There are wild cattle in that country almost as big as
elephants, splendid creatures, covered everywhere but
on the back with shaggy hair a good four palms long.
They are partly black, partly white, and really wonder-
fully fine creatures, and the hair or wool is extremely
fine and white, finer and whiter than silk. Messer
Marco brought some to Venice as a great curiosity, and
so it was reckoned by those who saw it. There are also
plenty of them tame, which have been caught young.
These the people use commonly for burden and general
work, and in the plough as well; and at the latter they
will do full twice as much work as any other cattle, be-
ing such very strong beasts.
In this country, too, is found the best musk in the
world; and I will tell you how 't is produced. There
exists in that region a kind of wild animal like a gazelle.

It has feet and tail like the gazelle's, and stag's hair of a
very coarse kind, but no horns. It has four tusks, two
below, and two above, about three inches long, and slen-
der in form, one pair growing upward, and the other
downward. It is a very pretty creature. The musk is
found in this way. When the creature has been taken,
they find between the flesh and the skin something like
an impostume full of blood, which they cut out and re-
move with all the skin attached to it. And the blood
inside this impostume is the musk that produces that
powerful perfume. There is an immense number of
these beasts in the country we are speaking of. The
flesh is very good to eat. Messer Marco brought the
dried head and feet of one of these animals to Venice
with him.
The people are traders and artisans, and also grow
abundance of corn. The province has an extent of
twenty-six days' journey. Pheasants are found there
twice as big as ours, indeed nearly as big as a peacock,
and having tails of seven to ten palms in length; and
besides them other pheasants in aspect like our own, and
birds of many other kinds, and of beautiful variegated
plumage. The people, who are Idolators, are fat folks
with little noses and black hair, and no beard, except a
few hairs on the upper lip. The women too have very
smooth and white skins, and in every respect are pretty

The large animals mentioned first in the ex-
tract I have given of which Marco speaks as
being "almost as big as elephants," are yaks,
sometimes called grunting oxen on account


of the peculiar noise they make. The yak may
be tamed and used as a beast of burden; and
generations of them have been so used in Tibet
and China. But the wild yak is much larger
than the captive of its species; it is very fierce,
with big, curving horns, and long white hair on
its lower parts. These creatures are sometimes
six feet high and seven or eight feet long.
The Chinese pheasant mentioned by our
traveler is a handsome bird, specimens of which
have been brought to the United States since
commerce between this country and China has
been opened. Marco's description is not ex-
aggerated. The feathers of the pheasant are
partly golden and partly azure, mingled with a
reddish brown; and the tail feathers are some-
times seven feet long. Marco's "ten palms"
length was rather an understatement.
Musk deer are still hunted on the frontiers of
China and Tibet; and the musk used in the
perfumery trade is brought from China and
Burmah, having been previously brought from
the region referred to by Marco Polo. The
little animal has only two canine teeth, or
"tusks," however, and not four, as described
by Marco. Formerly musk was used as a
medicine in various parts of the world; but
doctors in civilized lands do not hold musk in
high repute. In China it is still thought to be
a very good medicine; but the Chinese have
queer notions about cures and charms. Abb6
Huc, a distinguished traveler, says that when a
Tartar doctor finds himself without his drugs
and medicines, he is not in the least embar-
rassed. He writes the names of the needed
drugs on slips of paper, and these, being rolled
up in little balls, are swallowed by the sick
man. "To swallow the name of a remedy, or
the remedy itself," say the Tartars, comes to
precisely the same thing."



TURNING his face again to the eastward,
Marco takes us to one of the localities near the
Great Wall; for, although he never once makes
mention of that wonder of the world, it is sup-

posed by many eminent writers that he had in
his mind its ramparts when he speaks thus of
the region which he says is Tenduc: Here
also is what we call the country of Gog or Ma-
gog; they, however, call it Ung and Mungul,
after the names of two races of people that ex-
isted in that
province be-
fore the mi-
gration of the
Tartars. Ung
was the title
of the people
of the coun-
try, and Mun-
gul a name
plied to Tar-
The Great
Wall was built
before the
Tartars, that l ,
is Mongols,
had overrun
China, and
was intended
to keep them
out. It be-
gins at the
Kiayu Pass,
near the Des-
ert of Gobi,
in one of the
extreme west-
ern provinces
of China, and 76
extends to the
mouth of the
Gulf of Liau-tong, on the eastern coast, about
fourteen hundred miles. Part of the way the
wall is double, and even triple, so that the
actual length of the builded structure is esti-
mated to be two thousand miles. Its height
varies, but is generally about twenty feet; it
is twenty-five feet thick at the base, and fif-
teen feet at the top. The towers which are
built along the wall are three hundred feet apart,
and they are about forty feet high. The ma-
terial used is brick and stone laid up in thick



walls, and filled in with earth. The part of to London, where they were chained at the
the wall which lies to the westward has been door of the palace of the King. When they
called the Rampart of Gog and Magog. died, wooden images of the two giants were
put in their places.
In the course of time,
a great fire destroyed
these, but now, if you
go to London you
will see in the Great
Hall of one of the
famous buildings -
the Guildhall two
immense wooden ef-
figies of men, called
Gog and Magog.
But there are other
traditions of the two
giants. One is to the
effect that when Al-
exander the Great
overran Asia, he
chased into the moun-
tains of the North an
impure, wicked, and
man eating people
who were' twenty-two
nations in number,
and who were shut
up with a rampart in
which were gates of
brass. One of these
nations was Goth and
another Magoth, from
which we readily get
the names of the
mythical giants. It is
supposed, however,
that the Turks were
meant by Gog, and
the Mongols were the
children of Magog.
We shall find mention
made of Gog and Ma-
gog in many books,
Who were Gog and Magog? English tra- including the Bible; but there is the Great
edition says that they were the last of a race of Wall and the Rampart of Gog and Magog,
giants who infested England until they were whatever may have been the fact that gave
destroyed by some of the Trojans who went to the names of the two giants to that portion
the British Isles after the destruction of Troy. of the structure.
Gog and Magog, it is said, were taken captive Outside of the walls, and north of the city



of Kalgan, was the summer palace of Kublai
Khan. It was in the city of Kaiping-fu, or
City of Peace, and it was here that the three
Polos found the Great Khan when they first
came together to visit him. The palace was
called Chandu by Marco, but Xandu is believed
to be the proper way of spelling the title. The
traveler's description, as you will see, is very
enjoyable, and we can imagine that young
Marco had a good time viewing its glories and
its magnificence. He says:

And when you have ridden three days from the city
last mentioned, between northeast and north, you come
to a city called CHANDU, which was built by the Kaan
now reigning. There is at this place a very fine marble
palace, the rooms of which are all gilt, and painted with
figures of men and beasts and birds, and with a variety
of trees and flowers, all executed with such exquisite art
that you regard them with delight and astonishment.
-Round this Palace a wall is built, inclosing a compass
of sixteen miles, and inside the Park there are fountains
and rivers and brooks, and beautiful meadows, with all
kinds of wild animals (excluding such as are of ferocious
nature), which the Emperor has procured and placed-
there to supply food for his gerfalcons and hawks, which
he keeps here in mew. Of these there are more than
200 gerfalcons alone, without reckoning the other hawks.
The Kaan himself goes every week to see his birds
sitting in mew, and sometimes he rides through the
park with a leopard behind him on his horse's croup;
and then if he sees any animal that takes his fancy,
he slips his leopard at it, and the game when taken is
made over to feed the hawks in mew. This he does for
Moreover, at a spot in the Park where there is a charm-
ing wood, he has another palace built of cane, of which
I must give you a description. It is gilt all over, and
most elaborately finished inside. It is stayed on gilt
and lackered columns, on each side of which is a dragon
all gilt, the tail of which is attached to the column whilst
the head supports the architrave, and the claws likewise
are stretched out right and left to support the architrave.
The roof, like the rest, is formed of canes, covered with
a varnish so strong and excellent that no amount of rain
will rot them. These canes are a good three palms in
girth, and from ten to fifteen paces in length. They are
cut across at each knot, and then the pieces are split so
as to form from each two hollow tiles, and with these the
house is roofed; only, every such tile of cane has to be
nailed down to prevent the wind from lifting it. In short,
the whole palace is built of these canes, which serve also
for a great variety of other useful purposes. The con-
struction of the palace is so devised that it can be taken
down and put up again with great celerity; and it can all
be taken to pieces and removed whithersoever the Em-
peror may command. When erected, it is braced against
mishaps from the wind by more than 20o cords of silk.
VOL. XXIII.-1 26.

The Lord abides at this Park of his, dwelling some-
times in the Marble Palace and sometimes in the Cane
Palace for three months of the year, to wit, June, July,
and August, preferring this residence because it is by no
means hot; in fact, it is a very cool place. When the
28th day of August arrives he takes his departure, and
the Cane Palace is taken to pieces. But I must tell you
what happens when he goes away from this Palace every
year on the 28th of August.
But I must now tell you a strange thing that hitherto
I have forgotten to mention. During the three months
of every year that the Lord resides at that place, if it
should happen to be bad weather, there are certain
crafty enchanters and astrologers in his train, who are
such adepts in necromancy and the diabolic arts, that
they are able to prevent any cloud or storm from passing
over the spot on which the Emperor's Palace stands.
The sorcerers who do this are called TEBET and KESI-
MUR, which are the names of two nations of Idolaters.
There is another marvel performed by those BACSI,
of whom I have been speaking as knowing so many en-
chantments. For when the Great Kaan is at his capital
and in his great Palace, seated at his table, which stands
on a platform some eight cubits above the ground, his
cups are set before him on a great buffet in the middle
of the hall pavement, at a distance of some ten paces
from his table, and filled with wine, or other good spiced
liquor such as they use. Now, when the Lord desires
to drink, these enchanters by their enchantments cause
the cups to move from their places without being touched
by anybody, and to present themselves to the Emperor;
This every one present may witness, and there are oft-
times more than 1o,oo0 persons thus present. 'T is a truth
and no lie! and so will tell you the sages of our own
country who understand necromancy, for they also can
perform it.
And when the Idol Festivals come round, these Bacsi
go to the Prince and say: Sire, the feast of such a god
is come" (naming him). My Lord, you know," the
enchanter will say, that this god, when he gets no offer-
ings, always sends bad weather and spoils our seasons.
So we pray you to give us such and such a number of
black-faced sheep," naming whatever number they please.
And we beg also, good my lord, that we may have such
a quantity of incense, and such a quantity of lignaloes,
and"-- so much of this, so much of that, and so much
of t' other, according to their fancy-"that we may
perform a solemn service and a great sacrifice to our
Idols, and that so they may be induced to protect us and
all that's ours."
The Bacsi say these things to the Barons intrusted
with the stewardship, who stand round the Great Kaan,
and these repeat them to the Kaan, and he then orders
the Barons to give everything that the Bacsi have asked
for. And when they have got the articles they go and
make a great feast in honor of their god, and hold great
ceremonies of worship with grand illuminations and
quantities of incense of a variety of odors, which they
make up from different aromatic spices. And then they
cook the meat, and set it before the idols, and sprinkle




the broth hither and thither. Thus it is that they keep
their festivals. You must know that each of the idols
has a name of his own, and a feast-day, just as our
Saints have their anniversaries.
They have also immense Minsters and Abbeys, some
of them as big as a small town, with more than two thou-
sand monks (i. e., after their fashion) in a single abbey.
These monks dress more decently than the rest of the
people, and have the head and beard shaven. There
are some among these Bacsi who are allowed by their
rule to take wives, and who have plenty of children.

The Chinese emperors, long after the de-
scendants of Kublai Khan had vanished from
the Celestial Empire, were in the habit of
spending the hot weather at a very beautiful
summer palace, far to the north of Peking,
which was one of the wonders of the world.
It was wantonly destroyed by the allied armies
of France and England, during the war of
1860. The palace, which was filled with a


The glories of Chandu, or Xandu, have been
celebrated by many travelers since Marco's
time. The city and the palace have long since
disappeared, but one traveler saw the ruins still
standing when he visited the site, toward the
close of the seventeenth century. It was just
after reading Marco Polo's description of the
splendors of the court of Kublai Khan at
Xandu that Coleridge, the poet, fell asleep and
dreamed the famous poem beginning with these
lines :
In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran,
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests, ancient as the hills,
Enfolding spots of sunny greenery.

vast quantity of precious objects of art and
rare fabrics, was known as the Yuen-min-Yuen.
One of the pavilions of the palace may give
the readers of the ST. NICHOLAS some idea of
the appearance, though not of the extent, of the
Great Khan's summer palace at Xandu.
The canes which Marco mentions as used
for building material were bamboo. In most
oriental countries where the bamboo is com-
mon, it is so universally used that the people
regard it as the staff of life. They eat the
green shoots, and of the canes in various stages
of growth they make an infinite variety of articles.

MARCO gives a full account of the wonderful
tricks of conjuring which he witnessed at the
court of Kublai Khan. We make no doubt
that he saw, or thought he saw, the feats which



he says were done. before his eyes. He in-
tended to be strictly truthful, and he says, with
some notion that he may be disbelieved, that
these things are, true, and no lie. Other and
later travelers have described the same tricks,
and have given no explanation of them, except
to say that the spectators were probably hyp-
notized that is to say, they were made to be-
lieve that they saw that which did not exist.
At the present day, weather-conjuring is prac-
tised in China, Tartray, and India, and there
are so-called conjurers who pretend to be able
to make fogs and clouds come and go.
Not many years since, a Chinese Emperor
found it necessary to forbid his people to offer
prayers for rain after he had in vain prayed to
Heaven for that blessing. He indignantly
said: "If I, offering up prayer in sincerity,
have yet room to fear that it may please Hea-
ven to leave MY prayer unanswered, it is truly
intolerable that mere common people, wishing
for rain, should at their own. caprice set up
altars of earth, and bring together a rabble of
Hosgang [Buddhist priests] to conjure the spir-
its to gratify their wishes."
The court jugglers in the time of Kublai
Khan made it appear to those who looked on
as if dishes from the table actually flew through
the air. One of the travelers who visited the
regions of which Marco gives us some account
says: "And jugglers cause cups of gold to fly
through the air and offer themselves to all who
list to drink." And Ibn Batuta, a Moor who
visited Cathay a century after, gives this ac-
count of a similar incident:
That same night a juggler, who was one of the Kin's
slaves, made his appearance, and the Amir said to him;
"Come and show us some of your marvels." Upon
this he took a wooden ball, with several holes in it
through which long thongs were passed, and (laying
hold of one of these) slung it into the air.. It went so
high that we lost sight of it altogether. (It was the
hottest season of the year, and we were outside in the
middle of the palace court.) There now remained only
a little of the end of a thong in the conjurer's hand, and
he desired one of the boys who assisted him to lay hold
of it and mount. He did so, climbing by the thong, and
we lost sight of him also The conjurer then called to
him three times, but getting no answer he snatched up
a knife as if in a great rage, laid hold of the thong, and
disappeared also! By and bye he threw down one of
the boy's hands, then a foot, then the other hand, and
then the other foot, then the trunk, and last of all the

head! Then he came down himself, all puffing and
panting, -and with his clothes all bloody kissed the
ground before the Amir, and .said something to him in
Chinese. The Amir gave some order in reply, and our
friend then took the lad's limbs, laid them together in
their places, and gave a kick, when, presto! there was
the boy who got up and stood before us All this as-
tonished me beyond measure, and I had an attack of
palpitation like that which overcame me once before in
the presence of the Sultan of India, when he showed me
something of the 'same kind. The Kazi Afkharuddin
was next to me, and quoth he: Wallah 't is my opin-
ion there has been neither going up nor coming down,
neither marring nor mending; 't is all hocus-pocus! "
Mr. Edward Melton, an Anglo-Dutch trav-
eler, who visited Java in 1670, gives a long de-
scription of the tricks of some Chinese conjurers
who performed in Batavia while he was there.
After describing various other feats, he says:
But now I am going to relate a thing which
surpasses all belief, and which I would scarcely
venture to insert here if it had not been wit-
nessed by thousands before my own eyes."
He then goes on to describe a trick very much
the same as those witnessed by Marco Polo
and Ibn Batuta; and he adds: "Then straight-

way we saw with these eyes all those limbs
creep together again, and in short time a whole
man, who could at once stand and go just as
before, without showing the least damage!"

(To be continued.)


(An old-style story with old-style pictures.)

As Miss and Master went to town
They met a poor lad coming down,
All rags and tatters, pale and wan.
Miss saw him first, and thus began:

"Look, brother, look at yon poor lad!
How thin he seems how. pale and sad!
I think he 's almost starved, don't you?
I '11 tell you, brother, what we 'll do.

0 0




"My aunt, when we went there to play,
Gave us some pence, the other day;
Now with this money of our aunt's
We may relieve his pressing wants."

"Ay, so we will, with all my heart! .

I 'm glad I have not spent my part.

"Here, you poor boy without a hat,
This penny take-and now take that.
We do not want it, but you do."
"Oh, thank you, Miss, and Master, too!"







[Begun in the November number. ]



IT was late in the Passover night. A
through Jerusalem, all over the world, wherc
ever there were Jews, those who had eaten th
Paschal lamb had arisen from the sacred feas
For the greater part, they remained in the
houses, or went only short distances to oth(
houses, or in and about Jerusalem, to the booth
and tents provided for pilgrims. Rarely ha
these been so numerous, for men had come froi
all the world to hear and see the new Teache:
the Prophet of Galilee.
Out of one house came two who went i
haste, and one said to the other: My son, w
did well to watch when he came in. Now tha
we know where to seek him, let us not be to
late. He will not stay in the city."
"Father!" suddenly exclaimed the othei
"look yonder! There are torches and arme,
men. They are coming from the house of th
High Priest. They are the priests, and th
captains of the temple, and the elders! "
They paused, while around a corer ofmassiv
masonry near them trooped a motley thron,
from which came angry words and exclamations
"Cyril!".exclaimed Ezra, "seest thou tha
man with the torch ? It is Judas Iscariot, on
of the Twelve. The Master is betrayed! Oh
that we could warn him! "
It was'impossible! They knew not, as Juda
did, that Jesus had appointed the shadow'
garden of Gethsemane as the place of his las
hour'of agony and prayer and communion wit]
the men he loved, before he should be give
up to death. All that Ezra and his son could
do was to follow the throng that was led b
On went the traitor, and those who were wit]

him, through the eastern gate, opened for them
by its guards, and out toward the Mount of
Olives. With them went Ezra and Cyril, as
if they were members of the band of men who
were seeking the life of the prophet of Naz-
11 areth.
"If they succeed," muttered Cyril, "if they
.e should take him, what will then become of the
t. kingdom ?"
ir No answer came, for Ezra was striding for-
er ward, his right hand now and then working
is convulsively, as if he longed to grasp a weapon.
d In strong contrast with that rush of angry
n men, through the streets of the city and out
r, across the Kidron, was the scene presented near
a shaded spot upon the Mount of Olives.
n Three men lay there who had been overcome
e more by grief and anxiety than by bodily fa-
Lt tigue, and they were sound asleep, although
o they had been bidden to wait there and to pray.
At no great distance from them, in one direc-
r, tion, waited eight others who, though awake,
d were silent. Within a stone's cast in the opposite
e direction knelt One who was alone.
e He had been praying again and again, each
time returning to find his followers asleep. He
e had wakened them with words of pitying re-
g proof; but they could not keep awake, for they
. were weary.
.t The third time, when he came back to waken
e them, he again rebuked them gently, but
i, added:
"It is enough, the hour is come; behold
s the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of
y sinners. Rise up, let us go; lo, he that be-
't trayeth me is at hand."
h Not many minutes later, the throng of men
n with torches, staves, and swords, went up the
I slope at a point directly across the valley from
y the Temple, and poured in among the trees and
vines of Gethsemane.
h Cyril knew at once that Judas had guided


only too well, and the son of Ezra saw rather
than heard, for all his soul was in a tumult of
He saw the Master stand as if waiting, and
he saw Judas press forward to greet him with a
kiss. Then he saw the sword of Peter flash
from its sheath and strike one blow; and he
learned afterward from one of the Twelve
that a servant of the High Priest received a
wound which the Master at once touched and
healed, as he said to Peter:
Put up thy sword into its sheath: the cup
which my Father hath given me, shall I not
drink it ? "
The armed men stepped forward, but the
disciples had fallen away, at that moment, from
around their Master, and he stood alone, in the
light of the many torches. From so majestic,
so kingly a presence, those who came to take
him shrank backward, and many fell upon their
They arose and again rushed forward. All
the disciples turned and fled, while Cyril
gasped in terror:
They have taken him! "
The Jewish priests would not have been per-
mitted to go with their servants armed through
the streets of Jerusalem, either by day or night,
nor would the gate have been opened for them
had they been unaccompanied. The real arrest-
ing force had therefore been a strong party of
Roman legionaries from the Temple guard.
These acted as a protecting escort while the
captors led the Master back across the Kidron
and into the city. The officer in command
of them, as Cyril knew, was responsible for
the safety of a prisoner until delivered to the
authorities. Cyril, therefore, feared no imme-
diate harm as he marched along with them
into the city and up the street which led to
the princely house of Annas, the father-in-law
of Caiaphas the High Priest, to whom the first
report of the arrest was, for some reason, to
be made.
All who could manage to do so--and many
had joined on the way-pushed through the
ample portal into the great hall where Annas
awaited the prisoner.
"There is John," said Cyril to himself.
"And there is Peter, warming himself by the

brazier. Not another man of the Twelve is
In every direction, as he glanced around,
were only angry and threatening faces, or else
those whose open exultation more plainly de-
clared the spirit that brought them. The Mas-
ter, deserted by his followers, was alone before
his accusers.
Cyril himself was thinking: "There is no-
thing that I can do-" when suddenly his
cheek flushed with helpless anger and shame.
A soldier had struck the unresisting prisoner.
All in that chamber had been humiliated by
the blow except the unflinching majesty which
had been smitten. Cyril was watching the
servants of Annas, who were now tying the
hands of Jesus as those of an accused criminal,
to lead him away to the house of the high
priest, Caiaphas.
"I will be there before them!" exclaimed
Cyril, turning to hasten toward the door; but
a voice at his side responded:
"Thou here? I had hoped to see thee
again. It was in the name of this prophet
that thou didst give me freedom in the Arena.
I heard of him again, both at Rome and at
Athens. I come to Jerusalem to see and to
hear him."
"He is my King! answered Cyril. Oh,
Apollos, he is the Messiah that was to come,
and they will slay him! "
"I fell before him when the rest did, in the
garden," said Apollos, as they hurried on, side
by side. "Tallienus commands the new le-
gion of the city-and I, though I am now free,
was with him when he ordered the guard for the
chief priests. My own people condemned Soc-
rates for speaking the truth. I think the Jews
will slay this prophet, for I heard him say, in
the Temple, I am the truth.' I believe he is.
His word set me free. Come, friend Cyril, let
us go. Thou art a Jew, and I am a Greek, but
he is my King as he is thine. Let us see what
will be the end."
So the two strong youths who had raced be-
fore the Emperor in the Roman amphitheater
were among the first arrivals at the house of
Annas to enter the ample audience-room in the
palace of Caiaphas, the High Priest.
It was something more than a mere popular



assembly that had gathered there. Had Cyril
and Apollos been a moment later, they might
not have gained admission; but they went in
with some of the most distinguished members
of the Sanhedrim, the great council of the Jew-
ish nation, and shortly afterward the doors were
closed against the multitude that thronged the
open space without.
It was an exceedingly dignified, pompous
tribunal, like a Senate, and the High Priest
sat as its presiding official. Before him, calm
and utterly silent, stood Jesus of Nazareth,
while the witnesses attempted to give some rea-
son known to the laws why he should be ar-
rested or punished. No questioning drew from
him a word of comment or response, while the
conflicting witnesses, one after another, broke
down in their too willing testimony.
"They must let him go," thought Cyril. He
has done no wrong."
But at that moment the High Priest himself
arose and stepped forward, confronting the pris-
oner, and said:
I adjure thee, by the living God, that thou
tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of
Cyril's heart seemed to stop beating, for a
new and wonderful thought that had been
dawning upon him was now taking a shape
of which he had never dreamed.
In truth," whispered Apollos, he is more
than man. I believe he is one of the gods."
For Apollos was a Greek, and his people be-
lieved that their divinities sometimes visited
the earth.
Deep, hushed, awful, was the stillness over
the Sanhedrim, as they listened for the reply to
the question of the High Priest. It came dis-
tinctly, in words which sent a thrill through all
who heard:
"Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto
you, hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sit-
i ting on the right hand of power and coming in
the clouds of heaven."
The High Priest rent his clothes and ex-
claimed :
"What further need have we of witnesses?
Behold now ye have heard his blasphemy."
Angry responses from all sides declared that
the answer merited only death; but only one

authority in Jerusalem could inflict the death-
penalty. The prisoner must therefore go be-
fore the Roman governor.
Let us go to Pilate's house," said Apollos,
in a low voice; and Cyril turned away, feeling
almost as if the earth were failing from under
his feet.
It is all over," he said. "They will im-
prison my King, as they did John."
No," exclaimed Apollos, as they hurried on-
ward, eager to be first at the house of Pilate.
"No power can compel him. Did you not
hear him say it ? he is the Son of God! "
Many things had been said which Cyril had
heard but could not now recall, and he was
thinking only of what might be the next scene
in that dreadful night. It was now, indeed,
no longer really night, but in the dawning
of the sixth day of the week-our Friday.
It was still one of the festival days, and no
member of the Sanhedrim would have entered
the house of a heathen, like Pilate, for fear of
becoming thereby unclean, unfit for entering
the Temple.
It was for this reason that Pilate, notified of
what was coming, had ordered his throne-chair
of judgment brought out to a spot called Sab-
batha, from its ornamental pavement," in
front of his palace portal.
Here he now sat, and before him came the
Jewish notables, bringing with them their pris-


IT was indeed an imposing spectacle, that
court before the splendid palace, of the Roman
ruler of Judea. It was nevertheless a great
piece of hypocrisy. Pilate, sitting in the Judge's
seat, knew very well the true nature of the case
brought before him. The course pursued by
Jesus of Nazareth, year after year, all over the
land, had been known of all men. Pilate was
entirely willing, however, to see and hear
one so celebrated as the Galilean prophet.
There were political reasons why he was will-
ing, at that time, to gain favor with the Jewish
priests and people.
So there he sat and listened while members



of the Sanhedrim presented, with their prisoner,
their formal accusation against him: that they
had found him "perverting the nation, and for-
bidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that
he himself is Christ, a King."
"Art thou the King of the Jews? said Pi-
late to the prisoner.
Thou sayest it," was the Master's response.
Immediately Pilate arose from his chair, and
the two went into the palace together, out of

After all, this Roman law has something of
justice in it."
But loud, fierce, angry, threatening in its tone,
was the response of a white-robed rabbi who
now stood forth in front of the rest :
"He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout
all Jewry, beginning from Galilee, to this place."
The face of Pilate was crafty as well as cruel,
and there came a change in it as he heard the
accuser speak of Galilee.


the hearing of all who stood around the judg-
After a few moments of suspense, during
which scarce any audible words were exchanged
by those who were waiting, the two came out
again, and Pilate spoke:
"I find no fault in this man."
Cyril's heart leaped gladly, for a moment,
and he heard Apollos mutter:
VOL. XXIII.- 127.

He belongs to Herod's jurisdiction," he
said. I will send him to Herod, for his de-
Herod had no power to inflict capital pun-
ishment in Judea, but the responsibility was to
be shifted.
It was not difficult for Cyril and his friend,
less dignified than their elders, to speedily reach
the palace where Herod maintained a kind of




royal state during the Feast. He too had been
notified, and was waiting in his judgment-hall
the arrival of the escort which Pilate sent with
Jesus, and the priestly accusers who came with
Herod had slain John in the dungeon of the
Black Castle, but this prophet of Galilee he had
never seen. His face wore an attentive look as
the throng poured in and the people took the
places which their rank or assumed duty as-
signed to them. Certainly, nothing was lacking
of external pomp and state and splendor in
the appointments of Herod's hall and throne of
public audience. Jewels and gold and royal
robes and armed guards and the assured ap-
pearance of conscious power over the lives of
men, all these were there with Herod, and not
in all the world were there men of more per-
sonal dignity than that of the Jewish rulers
who now stood before him as accusers of the
prisoner sent to him by Pontius Pilate.
Nevertheless, this pomp, even in the eyes
of the multitude, was not regarded.
The real royalty, the one manifest greatness
in that hall, stood unattended before them.
He was in plain clothing, bareheaded, but
kinglier than any king, as he listened in undis-
turbed silence to the many questions put to him,
loftily at first, then angrily, by Herod himself.
Not a word of response was made to either
accusation or inquiries. To Herod's disap-
pointment, there was no exhibition of the super-
human power concerning which the slayer of
John the Baptizer had heard so much. At
last, it became plain that Pilate's cunning at-
tempt to rid himself of a troublesome case had
failed, although he had succeeded in pleasing
Herod by a semblance of deference to his au-
thority over Galileans. The whole matter must
therefore be referred back to Roman jurisdic-
So Cyril understood, half gladly, even while
the wrath and disappointment of Herod and his
officers broke out in fierce derision of the pre-
tended king," as they called their prisoner. A
King, they scornfully said, should have a bet-
ter robe than the plain abba he was wearing,
and so, as they sent him away, they threw over
it one from the wardrobes of the palace, gor-
geous in tints and embroidery upon its ground

of royal white. He was not crowned, as yet, but
upon him had been placed the raiment which,
by old tradition, belonged only to Hebrew roy-
alty, to the princes of the house of David.
Once more did Pontius Pilate come out to
sit in the chair of judgment at the Pavement.
Once more the accused Prophet of Galilee
stood before him, the royal robe he wore nei-
ther adding to nor taking from the majesty of
his serene, undisturbed demeanor. His head
was not bowed, nor did his lips utter a word.
No one knew what had been going on in the
mind of Pilate, nor what motive he might have
for wishing to spare his prisoner. But Cyril
now heard him again declare his first decision
that he found no fault in this prisoner; he added
that Herod also had sent him back uncon-
demned. Therefore, as it was an honored cus-
tom to release one important prisoner at the
Passover Feast, he would but scourge him and
let him go.
"Scourging, for the King! "thought Cyril; but.
at that moment there arose a cry of many voices,.
acting on a quick suggestion by the accusers::
"Not this man, but Barabbas! "
"What ? exclaimed Cyril, "the robber in-
stead of the Christ ?"
Then Pilate added, as they called loudly for
"What then shall I do with Jesus, who is
called the Christ ? "
Not till that very moment had Cyril under-
stood how deep and deadly was the enmity
which had been growing during all the years of
the Master's open condemnation of the priests.
and rabbis, the scribes and Pharisees, their
teachings and their works. There had been a
war, long and severe, waged without swords or
armor, and it was a war of life and death. The-
old evils or the new good must perish. Hot.
and fierce, therefore, was the fanatical zeal of
Isaac Ben Nassur, as his stentorian voice sent.
forth the cry caught up and repeated by so-
Crucify him Crucify him! "
Cyril heard other words around him. He-
heard Pilate speak again, and the priests and
rulers replying. He knew that Jesus had again.
been taken into the palace, but knew not what
there had passed between him and Pilate.



He is coming now! exclaimed Apollos at There was little or nothing to be done on the
his side, and in a moment more they saw Jesus Sabbath, except to wait, and to weep at think-
standing near the judgmdnt-seat. ing of what the Master had suffered on the
"Behold your King !" said Pilate, and then cross.
loud shouts replied: The Sabbath passed, the first day of the
Away with him! Crucify him!" week came, and a troubled, uncertain state
He once more almost pleaded for his pris- of mind seemed to weigh down Ezra the Sword-
oner: maker. The morning hours went by and still he
"Shall I crucify your King? sat gloomily in the house with his children.
The tumult deepened; the outcries became That is, with Cyril, whenever his impatience
more seditious; and the weakness of Pilate's would let him keep still, for Lois took her part
nature yielded to the clamor of the rabble, in household duties. It was a little after
Come thou away!" said Apollos. "They noon, therefore, when Cyril was summoned
are leading him forth." to the outer door. He opened it and uttered
Cyril was in such distress that he hardly a loud exclamation, for there stood Apollos,
knew how Apollos led him, but in a minute his face all radiant, like that of a bearer of
more they were out from the throng. good tidings.
Apollos," he said, wringing his hands, I Oh, my friend," he said," thy King is risen! "
must go to my father and my sister, and tell and then, in quick, excited sentences, he told
them that the Romans are leading the Master a story of women who had been early at the
away to put him to death! tomb, and of some of the disciples; and how the
guard had fled in fear of an angel who came
and rolled away from the sepulcher the stone
CHAPTER XXXIV. that closed its door. The women, first, and then
the disciples, had not only seen the risen Jesus,
THE NEW KINGDOM. but had spoken with him.
Oh, that I might see him again!" exclaimed
THE next day was the Sabbath, and a deep Cyril.
stillness, as of fear, seemed to have settled over They know me not," said Apollos, and I
Jerusalem. Men were whispering to one an- cannot join their company. Neither must thou,
other concerning the signs which had accom- except secretly, for Valerianus is here and he
panied the crucifixion the darkness and the might do thee a mischief if he found thee. He
earthquake, and the rending of the veil before is a man who never forgets or forgives."
the Ark of the Covenant in the Temple. Ezra had come out and had listened.
Abigail, Tabitha, and their friends, were only "I believe it! he declared. I go to the
waiting for the morrow, to return to Joppa; but Cave and to our friends. I will return before
Lois had been provided for, as had Cyril, in next Sabbath. My son, thou wilt be safer in
the house of one of Ezra's friends, an old dis- one of the villages than in the city. I will send
ciple of John the Baptizer. thee out to Emmaus unto my friend Cleopas.
"We will remain in Jerusalem for a season," Thou knowest him."
said Ezra to Cyril and Lois. We must have Cyril might have preferred remaining in the
courage, and wait. The kingdom will surely city, but he knew that his father's counsel was
come, for the Master said it was at hand. I best. Before long, he was on his way and be-
believe him." yond the city walls. His father's friend, Cleo-
So did Cyril and Lois, though it seemed all pas, once a disciple of John the Baptizer, was
hope was gone. Perhaps the old Swordmaker the very man with whom he could talk most
could not clearly have told them what he meant freely concerning his lifelong dream of the King
or what he expected; but every now and then and the new Kingdom, and of how it had
he looked at his restored right hand, and al- been shattered.
ways his face brightened when he did so. And when Cyril reached Emmaus he found



that Cleopas had a story to tell that confirmed
the joyful tidings brought by Apollos.
Cleopas had left Jerusalem with another fol-
lower of the Master.
Heavier grew their hearts, and slower, more
thoughtful, their long walk through the winding
valley and over the hills between Jerusalem and
Of course they met with many wayfarers, and
many more, bent upon pressing business, passed
them; but one, at last, a stranger who caught
up with them, seemed in no more haste than
were they themselves. It seemed to Cleopas
that his heart was too full to speak to any man,
but the stranger drew near and went with them.
"What manner of communications are these
things," he asked, "that ye have one to an-
other, as ye walk, and are sad ?"
They stood still, looking sad enough, but
Cleopas responded quickly:
Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and
hast not known the things that are come to pass
there, in these days ? "
"What things ? again asked the stranger.
"Concerning Jesus of Nazareth," replied
Cleopas, which was a prophet, mighty in deed
and word before God and all the people: and
how the chief priests and our rulers delivered
him up to be condemned to death, and have
crucified him "
"But we trusted," exclaimed the friend of
Cleopas, that it should be he which should
have redeemed Israel."
"And besides all this," continued Cleopas,
" it is now the third day since these things were
done. Yea, and certain women also, of our com-
pany, made us astonished, which were early at
the sepulcher, and when they found not his body,
they came, saying that they had also seen a
vision of angels, which said that he was alive.
And certain of them that were with us went to
the sepulcher and found it even so, as the wo-
men had said, but him they saw not."
"0 fools! exclaimed the stranger, and
slow of heart to believe all that the prophets
have spoken: Ought not Christ to have suffered
these things and to enter into his glory?"

He was evidently one learned in the Scrip-
tures, for he began, as they now resumed their
walk, a series of quotations, from the books of
Moses onward to the latest prophets, all of
which, as he brought them out and explained
them, seemed to tell the story of Jesus of Naza-
reth, to the very hour when the Romans cruci-
fied him.
At length they reached the house which was
the temporary home of Cleopas, and the stranger
ceased to speak. He would even have walked
on if Cleopas and his friend had not urgently
invited him to come in.
It was time for the evening meal and it was
put out upon the table for the refreshment of the
arrivals from Jerusalem. So they reclined at
the table, with their guest in the place of honor.
Immediately he took in his hand a loaf of bread
and blessed it and broke it, and gave to each of
them one of the pieces.
For one brief moment they gazed at him in
glad, astonished recognition.
"It is ,the Master!" said something in the
heart of Cleopas, although for some reason
he did not speak.
Then they saw him no more, for he had van-
ished out of their sight.
"Did not our hearts burn within us," said
Cleopas, "while he talked with us on the way,
and while he opened to us the Scriptures ? "
Come," said Cyril, when he had heard the
story told by Cleopas; "let us return to Jeru-
salem, that we may tell the disciples and all the
Master's followers."
"I will go gladly," said Cleopas; "for we
can bring joyful tidings."
I must tell Lois and the women and Apol-
los," said Cyril, but, first of all, I must go and
tell my father. I think this is part of what he
was looking for. Jesus of Nazareth is not dead,
but he is risen. It is just as he said to Pilate:
His kingdom is not of this world. He is the
Christ, and he has suffered, and he has entered
into his glory."
Amen! said Cleopas.
And so Cyril and Cleopas walked on, to-
gether, into Jerusalem.



(Translatedfrom the Russian of Vera P. Zhelikhovsky.)


THIS remarkable incident happened in the
year 1847, in the Trans-Caucasian German col-
ony of Elizabeththal, about thirty miles from
In that region, bears' and all sorts of wild
beasts are still to be found in abundance, but
fifty years ago it was a perfect paradise for
sportsmen; hence unarmed admirers of nature
were sometimes alarmed by unexpected encoun-
ters. It was regarded as an ordinary, every-
day occurrence to run across a bear, especially
at the season when berries, fruits, and grapes
were ripe in gardens and forests. All inhabi-
tants, even the summer residents in the villas,
who had come for refreshment to the villages,
colonies and military settlements in the vicinity
of the capital of Georgia (which was deserted
from June to September), knew this very well,
and did not run the risk of going unarmed to
work or on pleasure parties. It is well known
that even women and children, in that region
and in those days, understood how to handle
daggers and firearms.
But it sometimes happened that weapons,
even firearms,--which were far from having
the long range which they now possess,- proved
unavailing, powerless to save the victims.
This is an account of an original scene, exactly
like a fairy-tale, which was enacted, once upon
a time, in the outskirts of the Elizabeththal
colony, before the eyes of a number of people
who were riding to the forest on a picnic, and
a party of the colonists, who were returning
from their work. The colonists were descend-
ing from the opposite mountains, and the horse-
men were riding along the bottom of the ravine-
like valley on the bank of a turbulent mountain
stream. On the right hand, where lay the
planted fields, grew bushes and small trees; but
on the left bank of the stream rose the barren
cliffs, which became more steep and perpendic-

ular as they increased in height. At their sum-
mit, just below their last, jagged crest, which
seemed inaccessible and rose in peaks, like the
walls of a fortress, a mountain path descended.
It wound like a narrow ribbon around a vast
crag which thrust forward its granite bosom.
The inhabitants had broken it through the thick-
ets for the purpose of communicating with the
mountain villages. In some places this foot-
path was a fathom wide; but just at that point,
on the cliff, it had been hard to blast it out with
powder, and it was so narrow that it was -diffi-.
cult, not only for mules but even for tiny don-
keys and people, when they met upon it, to pass
each other. Even pedestrians generally halted
behind the projecting crag, and did not enter
upon that strip until they had shouted vigor-
ously, thereby giving notice to any one who
might chance to be on the other side, so that
they might not meet at dangerous and impass-
able points.
On both sides of the cliff, springing from the
rifts, clinging and intertwining, from summit to
base, grew a mantle of barberry, raspberry and
thorny blackberry bushes of that region, with
their rich clusters of fruit, which at a distance
looked more like grapes, and near by more like
huge mulberries, than like the squat, bluish, sour
berry which is called a blackberry in Russia.
The children- little Tartars from the moun-
tain villages and little Germans from the colony
- in company with the goats, had broken many
a path along the steeps of the clefts nearest to
the exit from the gorge; but they rarely peeped
further into it, because they were afraid of wild
beasts. There was no making one's way through
the wild game there.
The little path ran to the left; on the right,
along the mountains, the forest began, in a thick
mass, cut by such deep ravines, by such crevices
and jagged ridges of rocks, that the foot of man



probably had never trodden them at all; certainly
not in the days of which we are speaking.
From these forest-clothed vales crept unbid-
den guests in search of fruits and, sometimes,
of living food- wolves, bears, jackals, wildcats,
even hyenas, who had come from Persia or Ana-
When the villa residents of those days, who
lived in the colonies or in the regimental head-
quarters, set out upon an expedition to the for-
est, they always sent men on ahead to clear the
way. The noise of the cavalcade, the firing of
the escort, frightened away the denizens of the
forest, and thus rendered the place safe for the
members of privileged society. Never were pic-
nics and riding parties in such vogue, half a
century ago, as in the Caucasus and in Georgia;
but people rarely ventured upon them without
these preliminary precautions; so that the lit-
tle company which had, in the present instance,
assembled for a picnic, appointed at a spot two
or three versts* from Elizabeththal, had not
the slightest expectation of encountering a wild
beast. All at once, one of the ladies, on raising
her eyes to the summit of the cliff which we
have described, on the opposite side of the
rushing river, uttered an exclamation, and draw-
ing rein, called general attention by pointing
with her whip. Men and women all halted,
and gazed in silence to the spot aloft which she
There, on the narrow path which has been
mentioned, with slow and stately tread, swaying
his dark, heavy body about on all four feet, a
huge bear was wending his way.
Apparently Mishenka t was either sad or
was thoughtfully considering some difficult
problem, or simply had overloaded his stomach
by eating his fill of herbs and grasses which at
that season of the year were abundant red,
green, and yellow. Like a tortoise, he barely
moved; his muzzle was hanging close to the
ground, and swinging lazily, as though he were
burdened with its weight.
For several minutes the interested specta-
tors watched in silence the unusual sight of a
bear on a leisurely ramble, and then all began

to talk at once. Some were sorry that they
were so far away--no bullet would reach the
peak from such a distance; others propounded
divers theories as to whence he had come and
whither he was bound; others, still, had al-
ready concocted a plan for a future hunt, covet-
ing poor General Toptygin," I who calmly
continued his stroll, neither hearing nor seeing
his sworn enemies, and not suspecting their evil
designs against his person. At the moment he
was, evidently, in the most blissful state of mind,
cherishing no evil thought against any one,
peaceably digesting the forest fruits and berries,
and perhaps, also, the juicy products of the
colonists' vineyards, to which he had, plainly,
been treating himself.
With a laugh, one of the riding-party made
the suggestion, in the hearing of all, that "it
would be a good thing to hit his Waggleship
with a bullet."
"You can't reach him from here with any
gun," objected another.
Nevertheless, we might try," suggested the
Of course, we might try! Perhaps he would
quicken his pace."
"At least, let us knock the arrogance out of
him! Hurry him up! Let 's see how he '11
run! That would be fun!"
"What fun it will be! You 're bold
enough at a distance; but what if we were rid-
ing on that side of the river ? It 's not pleas-
ant to meet such fellows."
"And on such a path, to boot,--where there's
no getting out of the way. You would either
have to leap into the abyss head-foremost, or
fall victim to the teeth and claws of that
beast!" all exclaimed, excited by a spectacle
which was not on the program of amusements
for their picnic.
"Well, after all, why not? MikhAil Ivanitch
will not feel our shot, but he '11 hear it. It
will startle him, and we shall see the result,"
said one military man decisively, to the satis-
faction of the ladies.
And, turning to a kazak of the escort, he
gave the order:

A verst is nearly two thirds of a mile. Mickey." The Russians call a bear Mikkdil, diminutive, MAisha,
or Mitsenka, which is still more diminutive, adding (as will be presently seen) either Ivdnovitch, the son of John,
or Potdpovitck, the son of Potap.-I. F. H. f General Trampler is as near a translation as can be given for
the title of Bruin.-I. F. H.




Come now, brother, try to hit that lazy,
shaggy fellow; fire a shot! "
In an instant the kazak had unslung the gun
from his shoulder and was taking aim, when
suddenly, from behind the riders, a restrained
but authoritative shout rang out from the midst
of a group of Germans who were descending
on the other side of the gorge, and whom they
had not, up to this moment, perceived.
"Don't fire, gentlemen! the voice cried in
German. "Stop! Don't fire!"
What 's the matter ? Why not fire ? all
exclaimed, addressing the colonists, after order-
ing the kazak not to fire just yet, and compre-
hending that there must be some reason for
such a command.
All four of the Germans, who were walking
with their pitchforks and rakes on their shoul-
ders, halted two or three fathoms higher up
than the riders, and all, except the man who
had hailed them, and who hastily approached
them, stared intently upward, with an expres-
sion of dumb terror on their faces.
"What terrible thing do. they see yonder?"
was the general thought of both the men and
women. And they, also, raised their eyes
The bear was still proceeding along the path
with his former rolling gait. That was all they
could see.
Meanwhile, the German who had stopped
the shot had come up with the Colonel who
had given the order to fire, brought him to a
halt, and hastily explained something to him.
The roar of the river prevented their all hear-
ing distinctly what the matter was, but those
nearest groaned, and immediately, in affright,
communicated the news to the rest.
He says that they have described up yonder
some man or other, who is descending the path
from the other direction. He says that they
could not make it out clearly, because of that
projecting cliff,-but that they distinctly per-
ceived a human figure moving directly toward
the bear."
Oh, but now we must fire We must call
the man's attention to us, and warn him to turn
back to go no further."
"On the contrary!" this adviser was an-
swered. These people think that if we let

the bear alone he will probably turn off through
that ravine yonder -do you see? The Ger-
mans declare that he probably has his den
But what if he does not turn off there ? If
he goes straight on he will meet the man on the
narrowest part of the path -what then? all
exclaimed at once.
If we scare him with a shot he will set out
on a run, and, thinking that he is being pur-
sued, he will pass his den. In that case they
will meet."
Oh, what a terrible situation! And there
is no way to help "
"Perhaps these Suabians have already de-
vised some method. They seem to have an
Look, look! Those up above are pointing!"
In fact, the colonists who had remained
above, and who were able to see further along
the mountain-path than was possible from the
bottom of the gorge, suddenly began to move
frantically, to talk together in haste, pointing
out something to each other, and exhibiting
plain evidences of being overwhelmed with ter-
ror and excitement.
All the members of the riding party, also
seized with involuntary terror, kept their eyes
steadfastly fixed on the cliff, in expectation of
what was coming. What horrible sight were
they about to see?
And, all at once, a simultaneous cry of pity,
terror, horror, broke from all. From behind
the crag a little girl made her appearance. The
tiny colonist was seven or eight years old; not
more. She was strolling along with her arms
crossed carelessly on her pink apron. A large
hat of coarse straw, such as all the colonists,
whether young or old, wear in hot weather, had
fallen quite over on the nape of her neck; and
surrounded by this aureole, all flooded with
sunlight, the poor little thing stepped out on
the path which skirted the cliff on the brink of
the abyss.
The poor child was going to her death in
plain sight of many men and women- and to
what a dreadful death And not one of them
could help her! No one could either save her
or even warn her of her danger.
All were condemned to gaze, inactive, at the



dreadful event which was on the point of hap-
pening before their eyes.
The women raised a cry, and fell to weeping.
The majority of them sobbed themselves into
hysterics beforehand. The men, even those
1- ho h, bIeen In battle more h ti:in t.,nce. iho
had It-celd ,leait[i arndJ lood, said -fiternard
tl-at they bc a.nt e -:ld i,,d lizzy, and ian\'
tulr i.J a \iy" tl-hiir -ye; in a:i' ul;h. Buit
th-,:-e wh\i h elinriure. the .,rd jal., o:n rilh
ctiher li.-iri!. L. iteldl .1 ni a rvel.
Be.L:.uIe of tr!e Itr, n in ilie p, h. -
t< clii,-l .:iu.t n t :ee lie tern -
L]I.: fellow, .-tr.-veler vlic:. ,.,as c._rn -
ing to mn,:et her. hlie onlyv cauht '
sg *li ot th: rt .:dark-brownt i h ii hg-y
ruiss it tlie mmn-ient when it ,lmonl-t
came iii .onrita r \ iih hier. The
hug'e Leajt completely blocked licr I
r:.a..l. H i- 1.. ft i. -r.,:,d .n J '
tie veri ed,'g- of tlie p-tlt, wile

with his right side he almost rubbed the cliff.
They caught sight of each other almost at the
same moment.
Probably a cry or an exclamation on the part

of the child revealed
her presence to the
beast, as he was
walking along with
his muzzle and eyes
drooped earthward.
SThey stared fixed-
S ly at each other.
The little girl was
petrified with fear;
Sthe bear halted, in
,indecision, no doubt
much astonished if
not frightened. For
one moment, prob-
ably, he reflected:
"What am I to do
now ?" It was im-
possible to pass
without crushing
ili the unexpected ob-
stacle, without strik-
ing it or hurling it
into the abyss. The
path was so narrow
at this point that he
could not even turn
round on all fours.
What was to be
'l done ?
P Down below the
people waited, with
bated breath, ex-
pecting at any mo-
mlnt to -ec tlie unhappy child pushed into
the nls- Bciut e\ idently that was not the
iy \-itltl l full-led and therefore good-
natuIred c M;kh .i i I \:ln'tch, General Toptygin,"
had tledl the hprrblem. He wished neither
death- ni:r hiirm to thi-, tiny creature, helpless
blciore Iim,. -0 itli op- fn mouth and staring eyes,
hating i:st thru:,I feI-ar all power of crying,
.ind av.artin. hli \\ill in trembling silence. And
-- Mishenka carried out his will.
With a faint growl, caused not by anger but
by the necessity of putting himself to trouble,
he reared up on his hind legs, strode close up
to the little girl, and, bracing his back against
the cliff, clasped 'his forepaws round her, just
beneath the shoulders.



Shrieks and groans of despair resounded from
below. The ladies, who still continued to gaze
with dim eyes, grew faint; but the men, espe-
cially the huntsmen, who were acquainted with
the murderous habits of the bear-family, leaped
in spirit, and with a hope a mad hope- for
the child's safety. They perceived that Mishka
was behaving in a very remarkable manner, with
all the caution and dexterity which he could
They were not mistaken as to his unprece-
dented goodness. The kind-hearted bear lifted
the little girl up, carefully bore, her over the
precipice, and, turning on the pivot of his hind
paws, set her down on the other side of the path.
Having performed this gymnastic exercise,
the- bear, without waiting to be thanked (evi-
dently he was well acquainted with the human

race), whirled about, dropped on all fours, and
proceeded quietly on his way, swaying from
side to side, and grunting contentedly in antici-
pation of sweet repose in his lair not far away.
The colonists hastened to the spot, and found
the little German child safe and sound, but
greatly frightened by the bit of a waltz with
such an unusual partner. But I must confess,
to the shame of the men, that the virtuous bear
was not in error as to his bad opinion of us. I
know not whether he slept sweetly after his hu-
mane act, but I do know for a fact that it was
his last night in this transient vale of ingrati-
tude and evil. On the following morning a
hunting-party set out after him, and a month
later his magnificent skin lay in Tiflis, in the
private study of one of the witnesses to this
miraculous scene.

NOTE.- Madame Zhelikh6vsky lived for years in Tiflis and the Caucasus. She probably heard this story from
one of the spectators. She died not long ago. I. F. H.

"In learning," proudly said the birch,
I once played quite a part;
Whenever little boys were dull,

Why, I could make 'em smart!"

. VOL. XXIII.-I128.




HERE are two Wriggles from Wriggleumtown-
Their legs are sky-blue and their bodies are
Their tails are a wonderful changeable hue;
I don't care to have them for playmates, do you ?

GAY harlequins dancing-beribboned are they,
And carry two poles in the air;
That rest on their heads in a curious way,
And atop of each pole is a bear,
I declare,
A wonderful, long-tailed bear.

THESE squirrels have paused to consider
The fact that 't is late in the fall,
And time to lay nuts up for winter
If they would have any at all.
SThe red squirrel hoards like a miser;
But, alas, the improvident gray,
He 's only a pauper of winter
Who scampers the summer away.

* See ST. NICHOLAS for September, page 916.





Two little Gobolinks one day
Were sent to do the dishes;
Instead of which they ran away
And fished for shadow-fishes.
They fished and fished and fished and fished,
And but a leaf they caught-o;
And then they wished and wished and wished
They 'd done the thing they ought to.
So b'y and by they homeward crept
With plumage drooping sadly;
And there lihey bowed their heads and wept
Because they felt so badly.

WITHIN. the caverns of the sea
Two Water-weedles stay.
Their hearts are happy as can be;
Within the caverns of the sea
They sing and frolic in their glee
Throughout the livelong day.
Within the caverns of the sea
Two Water-weedles stay.

THE head of a Gobolink Tiger-
With sellers arranged as you see.
He used to reside on the Niger,
But now he is living with me.





"The things that I think I am loath to relate,
You look so exactly like me."




Got out of a job
And went to consult with his brother:
Said his brother to him,
Your chances are slim
Unless you go hunt up another."

THE shadow-rack stands in the Shadow-man's
It holds shadow-canes and umbrellas, and all
The various things that the Gobolinks use
When they go for a walk to get rid of the blues.

Two Widgelums went for a walk one day
By the shores of a shimmering sea;
And one of them said to the other, "I pray,
Now what 's your opinion of me?"
Then the Widgelum looked at his widgelous
My charming companion," said he,



k -



MOST Shadow-people are polite,
And bow whene'er they meet;
For us to do the same is right,
At home or in the street.

HERE is a pair of funny beasts,
I hardly know their habits-
Perhaps they may be elephants-
Perhaps they may be rabbits.

BenW Buninyg

went u- hunting,

Loped to nloot -wild bowr),

But ell the trees

there were tbout

front door.
ootk C. Rice.




IT was terribly hot, ahd I laid me down
At the foot of a hickory tree;
And a squirrel above who was n't afraid
Sat barking, and scolding me;
And a bumble-bee swung by a winding
With his surly Get out of my way";
And a roving mosquito came blowing his
So what could a fellow say ? -
"This bumble-bee thinks that he owns the
And the squirrel, there, claims the tree,

And this third little varlet would take all the
That 's of any importance to me!"
But, you see, I was tired and fell asleep,
And when I opened my eyes,
They found out the door of the thumble-
bee's store,-
There was honey enough for a prize!
And the squirrel had thrown me a parcel
6f nuts;
And near, on a floating spray,
A robin was singing a cheery song-
The mosquito had come his way!

W. C. M' Celland.

(Second story of the series entitled "The City of Stories.")


BOTH the Princess and the Third Son ex-
claimed'in delight. In the midst of a vast
plain lay a large and beautiful city. The walls
were not high enough to hide the glittering
domes, the stately towers, the graceful spires,
and the harmonious colors of the housetops.
Oh, how lovely -how charming !" cried
Yolette, after a moment of silence. It needed
but a few minutes to reach the walls of the city.
They found a spacious gateway surmounted by
an arch bearing an inscription in golden letters:
Beneath, on the closed gates, was a long
and curious list of the streets in the city. A
few of these, which from their familiar look par-
ticularly attracted the attention of Yolette, are
given here: "Cinderella Street," "Sleeping
Beauty Avenue," Blue Beard Square," Hop
o' my Thumb Place," Little Red Riding Hood
Lane," Puss in Boots Crescent," Jack the
Giant Killer Street," "Beauty and the Beast
Avenue," and "Jack and the Beanstalk Lane."
I will now set you down," said the Tower
Clock, "as I suppose you will wish to look
about. You can ramble over the city, and

I will look you up occasionally to see how you
are faring; and when you have had enough of
it we will continue our tour."
Yolette and the Third Son at once passed
through a small doorway at one side of the
great gates, and entered the city. They soon
perceived that the City of Stories was very dif-
ferent from any city they had ever seen before.
Its streets branched out in all directions from
the main entrance, and each one bore the title
of some story. These names were all beauti-
fully printed in raised letters on fanciful sign-
boards. Many of them were already known to
Yolette, but by far the larger part were quite
new to her. The streets were not straight as
city streets usually are,-or, at least, as they
ought to be,-but wound about in graceful
curves. But by far the strangest thing of all
was the fact that each street formed one long
page containing the story from which it took its
name. The pavements were of white marble,
and on each block was painted a letter. These
letters were so joined as to make up the words
and sentences of the story. Only, instead of
being arranged as in books, each successive
line was put above the last, thus making it


IT was terribly hot, ahd I laid me down
At the foot of a hickory tree;
And a squirrel above who was n't afraid
Sat barking, and scolding me;
And a bumble-bee swung by a winding
With his surly Get out of my way";
And a roving mosquito came blowing his
So what could a fellow say ? -
"This bumble-bee thinks that he owns the
And the squirrel, there, claims the tree,

And this third little varlet would take all the
That 's of any importance to me!"
But, you see, I was tired and fell asleep,
And when I opened my eyes,
They found out the door of the thumble-
bee's store,-
There was honey enough for a prize!
And the squirrel had thrown me a parcel
6f nuts;
And near, on a floating spray,
A robin was singing a cheery song-
The mosquito had come his way!

W. C. M' Celland.

(Second story of the series entitled "The City of Stories.")


BOTH the Princess and the Third Son ex-
claimed'in delight. In the midst of a vast
plain lay a large and beautiful city. The walls
were not high enough to hide the glittering
domes, the stately towers, the graceful spires,
and the harmonious colors of the housetops.
Oh, how lovely -how charming !" cried
Yolette, after a moment of silence. It needed
but a few minutes to reach the walls of the city.
They found a spacious gateway surmounted by
an arch bearing an inscription in golden letters:
Beneath, on the closed gates, was a long
and curious list of the streets in the city. A
few of these, which from their familiar look par-
ticularly attracted the attention of Yolette, are
given here: "Cinderella Street," "Sleeping
Beauty Avenue," Blue Beard Square," Hop
o' my Thumb Place," Little Red Riding Hood
Lane," Puss in Boots Crescent," Jack the
Giant Killer Street," "Beauty and the Beast
Avenue," and "Jack and the Beanstalk Lane."
I will now set you down," said the Tower
Clock, "as I suppose you will wish to look
about. You can ramble over the city, and

I will look you up occasionally to see how you
are faring; and when you have had enough of
it we will continue our tour."
Yolette and the Third Son at once passed
through a small doorway at one side of the
great gates, and entered the city. They soon
perceived that the City of Stories was very dif-
ferent from any city they had ever seen before.
Its streets branched out in all directions from
the main entrance, and each one bore the title
of some story. These names were all beauti-
fully printed in raised letters on fanciful sign-
boards. Many of them were already known to
Yolette, but by far the larger part were quite
new to her. The streets were not straight as
city streets usually are,-or, at least, as they
ought to be,-but wound about in graceful
curves. But by far the strangest thing of all
was the fact that each street formed one long
page containing the story from which it took its
name. The pavements were of white marble,
and on each block was painted a letter. These
letters were so joined as to make up the words
and sentences of the story. Only, instead of
being arranged as in books, each successive
line was put above the last, thus making it


easy for the reader to walk onward and also to
enjoy the story at the same time.
Naturally, Yolette was eager to begin read-
ing something at once; and although the Third
Son would have been better pleased to do great
deeds himself than to read of those done by
others, he decided to stay with the Princess
a while, in the hope that eventually he might
be able to rescue her from some peril. So the
pair, having chosen a handsome street not far
from the great gates, started into it and read
upon its pavements the story of


THERE was once a King whose kingdom was
not bounded by any other king's kingdom--
that is to say, he ruled over an island and had
no neighbors except the fishes. This island was
large and very beautiful, being of circular shape
and fancifully indented along its shores. The
King lived in a magnificent palace situated in
the exact center of his. dominions.
The King had an only daughter who was
one of the most beautiful creatures that ever
was born. Moreover, she was wise, witty, and
accomplished, but, withal, inconceivably proud.
Though, to be sure, there was some reason
for her pride. She was one of the fairest and
wisest maidens the sun ever shone upon. She
dwelt in a beautiful palace, and her father's
domains which she would one day inherit -
were bounded only by the ocean. Under these
circumstances it is not strange that when it
came time for the Princess to think of marry-
ing, no one could be found half good enough
for her at least, in her own opinion. Scores
of the handsomest, bravest, most learned, and
most virtuous princes living sued for her hand,
but not one of them pleased her; she turned
up her pretty nose at them all. She made a
pretense of giving them a trial, indeed, but
small comfort they got from that. She asked
them questions they could not answer or set
them tasks they could not perform, and then,
ridiculing their failures, sent them away covered
with confusion.
This state of affairs disturbed the King
greatly. He was growing old and was anxious
to see his daughter well married and settled be-

fore his death, but, from present indications,
there seemed little chance of that desire being
gratified. He could not force her to wed, be-
cause there was an old law forbidding, the
marriage of royal children without their own
At last, however, just as he was at his wit's
end; his majesty was lucky enough to discover
the existence of another old law to the effect
that when a king's daughter had refused an
hundred suitors her father could oblige her to
take as a husband whomever he chose, even
though it were a beggar at the palace gates.
Now the Princess had already sent ninety and
nine highly estimable and accomplished young
men about their business, and so, when he
heard she had packed off the one-hundredth,
the King, losing all patience, rushed to his
daughter's apartments with the statute-book in
hand and cried out in a passion: Proud
and wilful child, since the very best is not good
enough for you, you shall be married to the first
fool who comes along."

It happened, not a great while before this, a
certain rich man of that kingdom had died and
left behind him two sons. The elder was a
youth clever enough, but the younger was little
better than a fool. He was so stupid that he
scarcely knew as much as A B C, to say no-
thing of D E F and the other letters that follow.
And as for counting, he could not have told
how many hands he had if you had asked him
in a hurry. But one fine morning what should
the simpleton do but arise and astonish his
elder brother by suddenly exclaiming:
Brother, give me my share of our father's
wealth that I may go forth and see what the
great world is like."
But the brother, thinking that the simpleton
knew nothing of the care of money, and would
only waste or lose it if it were given to him, was
unwilling to grant his request.
My brother," he said, I cannot do as you
ask, for our father's property has not yet been
"Well, then, when will it be divided? per-
sisted the Youth, who was not thus easily to be
put off.
Oh! surely not until the end of week after



next," answered the elder brother, hoping to
get rid of him.
The simpleton asked no more questions, but
he did not go back to his chimney-corner. On
the contrary he began to walk the floor, repeat-
ing over and over again, in a doleful voice:
Alack! I would that the End of Week
after Next were here! Oh! that the End of
Week after Next were come "
Until finally the elder brother, quite weary
of his whinings, exclaimed impatiently:
Well, if you are in such a hurry for the
coming of the End of Week- after Next why do
you not go out and meet it half way ? "
"Ah! that is a fine idea, brother; a famous
idea !" cried the simpleton in delight; "but,
tell me, which way shall I go ? "
"Which way, indeed, if not toward the east,
whence all the days come ? was the response.
To be sure!" said the Youth, and he set off
at once in high good humor.
After he had traveled for some time he met
a wayfarer.
"Pray can you tell me," he asked, "how
soon the End of Week after Next will be along
In fourteen days," replied the wayfarer, for
it was then Saturday.
The simpleton thanked him and journeyed on
for two days more, at the end of which time he
met a second wayfarer. To him he repeated the
query he had put to the first, and the answer
he now received was that the End of Week
after Next would come in nineteen days, for it
was then Monday. This news might have dis-
couraged some people, but the simple youth
did not know that nineteen was.a larger num-
ber than fourteen, so it made very little differ-
ence to him. He kept patiently on his journey
for some weeks longer, inquiring of every one
he met about the arrival of the End of Week
after Next, but all to no purpose. The much-
wished-for day was like a will-o'-the-wisp;
sometimes a shorter and sometimes a longer
distance away, but never quite within reach.
At length he really began to be disheartened,
and one evening, weary and foot-sore, he sat
down by the roadside and for the first time in
his life he fell seriously to thinking.
I set forth," said he to himself," to meet the

End of Week after Next half way, and surely
I have gone far enough, at last, to have met it
whole way. Can it be, then, that we two have
passed each other on the road? That is a
question I cannot answer. Alas! as I grow
older I find there are a great many questions
I cannot answer. This must be because I am
such a simpleton. Would it not be better for
me if I were wiser? I think I will give up
looking for the End of Week after Next, and
use my time in trying to become wiser. Then,
perhaps, the world may run more smoothly
with me."
This resolution, although made by a simple-
ton, was really a very sensible one; for, when
a man realizes that he knows very little, cer-
tainly he has learned something, and in the
end he will be almost sure to gain still further
On the following morning, animated by his
new purpose, the youth resumed' his wander-
ings, until by and by he came to the King's
palace. Now it fell out curiously enough that
he arrived just after the King had declared
that his daughter should wed the first fool that
came along. So when, his majesty caught
sight of the simpleton staring up at the pre-
cious-stone palace with eyes and mouth wide
open, the thought struck him at once that
there was the very fellow he wanted, and he
sent a servant to fetch him-in. Some moments
later, the youth being shown into his presence,
he turned to the Princess, and said:
"Behold your bridegroom, my daughter!
Go and don wedding attire, that you may be
married without delay."
At these words the simpleton looked more a
simpleton than ever, and the Princess, turning
pale as death, besought her father to reconsider
his hasty determination. But she pleaded in
vain; the King was deaf to her entreaties. He
had firmly resolved that she should wed the
youth; he had said it, and nothing could in-
duce him to break his royal word. However,
by the most earnest prayers the Princess finally
did obtain a delay of three days, and the per-
mission to set the youth three tasks before she
married him.
"Thus far you shall have your owni way,"
quoth the King; "but remember, it will make



no difference, for marry this youth you must
and shall in any case."
The Princess bowed her acquiescence in her
father's will, and then addressing the simple-
ton, she said:
"This shall be the first task. Around my
father's palace runs a wide avenue, as hard
and smooth as glass, and in the form of a circle.
Tell me what part of it the workmen made last."
"That I cannot do, Princess, unless you
give me until to-morrow to think about it," re-
plied the Youth, bowing politely to her.

was, made a sorry appearance, was thrust into
a garret, high up in a tower at one corner of
the palace.
As the Youth was tired from much tramping,
he went early to bed and straightway fell sound
asleep, not troubling himself in the least to
give another thought to the Princess's question.
He slept like a log until the clock struck
twelve, when he was suddenly awakened by
the sound of voices. These voices belonged to
the Big Wise Weathercock on the Tower, and
the Little Foolish Weathercock on the Turret,

:* .~ ~ ~ i -i-'."'*_-r'-- *'a -- i

... -.2U^1^.: !


"Very well," returned the Princess, who felt
sure he would never solve the problem, until
the morrow you shall have, then."
Thereupon the Youth was placed in the charge
of a servant, who gave him some supper and
showed him to the chamber in which he was
to spend the night. All the other suitors of
the Princess had been lodged sumptuously in
fine state apartments, as befitted their rank;
but the poor simpleton, who, travel-worn as he
VOL. XXIII.-1 29.

who were having a talk with each other as
was their nightly custom.
"That was a hard task the Princess gave the
Youth," remarked the Little Foolish Weather-
cock to his larger companion.
Oh, not so very hard, after all," returned
the Big Wise Weathercock.
How then should one set to work to do
it? queried the Little Foolish Weathercock.
It is very simple; one should answer the

K,-' /

\ \




Princess thus, replied the Big Wise Weather-
cock; and thereupon he explained all to the
Little Foolish Weathercock, while the youth
listened eagerly, and carefully remembered ev-
ery word. Then he turned over and went to
sleep again.
The next day, when he appeared in presence

now since you are so clever at asking questions,
let your second task be to ask me one that I
cannot answer."
Princess," replied the Youth, that I can-
not do without some preparation. Give me
until to-morrow to think upon it."
To this the Princess assented, and the Youth





of the Princess, she asked with a mocking smile
whether he were ready with his answer.
"Princess,". returned the Youth, "before I an-
swer your question will you answer one for me?"
"Yes," said the Princess, "provided it is
not the one I have asked you."
Oh, no; quite the contrary," said the
Youth. "You asked me what part of the cir-
cular avenue running around the palace the
builders made last. I ask you what part of it
they made first "
They began to work in front of the great
gates," replied the Princess.
"Then there they also finished working,"
exclaimed the Youth, for between the begin-
ning and the ending of a circular road there is
not so much as a hair's-breadth of space."
"Very good," returned the Princess, when
she had recovered from her surprise. "And

went away. That night again he slept in the
garret under the roof of the tower; and at the
stroke of twelve once more he was aroused by
the voices of the Big Wise Weathercock and its
foolish little neighbor.
Certainly that is a very hard task the Prin-
cess set for the Youth to-day," remarked the
Little Weathercock on the Turret.
Oh, not so very hard, after all, if one but
knows what question to give to the Princess,"
answered the Big Weathercock on the Tower.
"What question should one give her then? "
inquired the-Little Weathercock.
"One should question the Princess in this
manner," returned the Big Wise Weather-
cock; and thereupon he explained the whole
matter to the Little Weathercock, while the
Youth listened eagerly and carefully stored away
in his memory every word that was said.





The next day when the Youth appeared be-
fore the Princess and she asked him if he were
ready to perform the second task he answered
thus :
"Princess, it is well known that deep beneath
the foundations of your father's palace there
lies buried an iron chest. In this iron chest
is an oaken chest which incloses a box made
of silver. This in turn contains a box made of
gold, wherein is a casket all studded with pre-
cious gems. In the casket is a flask cut from a
single diamond. Within the flask sparkles a
tear-drop from the eye of the queen whose hus-
band built this palace. Now can you tell me
whether that tear-drop fell from the right eye or
from the left eye of the queen ? "
No ; neither I nor any other person living
can answer that question," returned the Prin-
cess. "You have performed successfully the
second task; now for the third. Look very
closely at my hands! Look well at them!"

_iJ-: i-..


"Yes, Princess; I think I should. Never-
theless, I beg you will give me until to-morrow
to consider the matter."
"So be it," said the Princess, and the Youth
went away.
That night for the third time he slept in the
tower chamber, and for the third time he was
awakened by the voices of the two weather-
"Without any doubt that is a very hard task
the Princess is to give the Youth to-morrow,"
began the Little Weathercock.
"Oh! no," returned the Big Weathercock;
"if he but knew how, he might easily get the
better of her."
"How, then, could that be managed ? "
In this way," replied the Big Wise Weather-
cock, and he explained all to the Little Foolish
Weathercock, while the Youth listened eagerly
and carefully remembered every word.
The next day the Youth was conducted by



Yes, Princess; they are the most beautiful
hands I have ever seen," answered the Youth,
who was not so much of a fool as once he had
You think so, do you ? retorted the Prin-
cess in a tone that seemed disdainful; "and
would you know them again among the hands of
nine-and-forty other maidens, do you suppose? "

an officer of the court to a room that was di-
vided across the center by a great curtain fall-
ing from ceiling to floor. Behind this curtain
stood fifty maidens whom he could not see,
while before it, put through convenient holes,
their fifty pairs of hands were exposed to view.
Look at them all," said the attendant, and
point out the hands that belong to the Princess,"


'~ "'""""'"


The Youth advanced, and pretended to ex-
amine carefully each pair of hands. They were
all equally small, equally white, and equally
beautiful. There seemed no choice between
them. After having gazed at them for some
minutes the Youth spoke thus:
The Princess is not behind this curtain, and
yet all those hands belong to her, for they are
the hands of her maids of honor and therefore
are hers to command."
At this the King, who was in hiding with the
Princess at the other side of the room, exclaimed
My daughter, the last task is done and you
have no longer any possible excuse for not ac-
cepting this youth as your husband."
"Ah! but wait a bit," replied the Princess
calmly; something yet remains to be said on
that subject."
"Indeed And pray what may it be ?" de-
manded the King in surprise. Have I not
said that you must marry him ? Are you not
bound by my royal word to do so ? "
Oh, no! I am not bound in the least," re-
turned the Princess. "You said I was to marry
the first fool who canm along. By performing
my tasks so satisfactorily this youth has proved
plainly that he is no fool; therefore I am not
bound to take him for my husband."
The King was staggered. He saw that he
was in danger of being thwarted, which would
be a very humiliating thing for him both as- a
sovereign and as a father. However, he did not
give up quite yet.
"The Youth has proved nothing of the
kind he declared. He has had counsel or

he could not have got through the three tasks
so easily. Did he not take twenty-four hours
to consider each one of them? I will soon
show you that his wit was borrowed and that
he has none of his own. I will give him a rid-
dle to guess on the spot, and you shall see how
blank he will look over it."
Whereupon, coming forth from the hiding-
place, the King asked the Youth to solve the
following riddle:
"' What is that which is always coming, but
never arrives ? "
"Oho! exclaimed the Youth, "nothing
could be easier to answer. That which is al-
ways coming, but never arrives, is surely the
End of Week after Next."
On hearing this reply it was the King and
not the Youth who looked blank. Indeed, his
Majesty had not a word to say for himself. But
just then, most unexpectedly, the Princess (who
really was not averse to the Youth, although
she had been too proud to acknowledge it) de-
clared herself so charmed by his ready solution
of the riddle that she was quite willing to ac-
cept him after all. So the wedding took place
and everybody rejoiced to think that the Prin-
cess was married at last.
After this the Youth and the Princess lived
long and happily together, and when in due
time the old King died the young King suc-
ceeded to the throne, which he occupied to the
satisfaction of all. And if ever he was per-
plexed by affairs of state, he had only to betake
himself for a night to the tower and all was
sure to be made plain to him by the weighty
words of the Big Wise Weathercock.


I HAVE been told do you think it is true ? -
That when the new moon first comes into
The bright little moon, like a bent silver bow,
If I see it just over my left shoulder--so,
Bad luck will follow me all the month through;
But I don't believe much in signs. Do you?

But the new moon, last night, above the elm-tree,
Over my right shoulder glanced down at me,
The pretty new moon, and, you know, that 's
a sign
That the best of good luck will surely be mine.
I can't help believing that sign will come true.
Signs may be silly-but, now, would n't you?


if "**


,?. ":








LADY," said a brave and courteous Knight,
While waiting for his supper at an inn,
To me it is a very painful sight
To see you blistering your pretty skin
Over that broiling fire and blazing light.
And, though a thousand triumphs I might win,
In field or tourney or in off-hand fight,
I really think it would be quite a sin
For me to now forsake you in such plight.

So, while I tire not of the battle's din,
Because I am a brave and courteous Knight,
If I might hope your fairy hand to win,
I would change places, if you think it 's right,
And stir the porridge thick or stir it thin,
Just as you bid me, morning, noon, or night,
And thus together we might keep the inn -


For cased in armor I 'm protected quite,
While you would save your lily, milk-white skin."

So runs the legend. Thus do men explain
The queer design by which is still bedight
The sign that marks through wind and sun and rain,
"The Hostelry of the Most Courteous Knight."



I WENT in the school-room, one morning;
My two little girls were there,
And over their atlas bending,
Each with a puzzled air.

Mary glanced up as I entered,
And said, with an anxious look:
"Mama, perhaps you can help us.
It says here, in this book,

"That we bought Louisiana
From the French. Now that seems queer!
For Nellie and I don't understand
How they could send it here.

"Whoever brought the land over
Must have taken so many trips.
Nell says they put it in baskets;
But I think it must have been ships."





FOR the best lists of answers to the fifty charades
here printed, according to the conditions of the competi-
tion, ST. NICHOLAS offers the following prizes :
One prize of Ten Dollars.
Two prizes of Eight Dollars each.
Five prizes of Six Dollars each.
Ten prizes of Four Dollars each.
Twelve prizes of Two Dollars each.
These, amounting to one hundred and twenty dollars,
will be given in the form of brand-new one-dollar bills.
The competition this time is open to all subscribers,
or regular readers, of ST. NICHOLAS from the age of ten
to the age of eighty years inclusive.
The Committee of Judges in awarding prizes will take
into account not only the correctness of the answers but
IN a little old school-house that stood on a hill
A little old schoolmaster taught with a will.
But over his pupils he had no control;
They said he was crusty and cross and my
And the rascals declared it would serve him
just right
To play him a practical joke some fine night.
So down to the river they went, and they took
My first from my last of the dark, muddy brook.
Then they eagerly hurried, yet quiet as a mouse,
Till they came to the little old schoolmaster's
They smuggled my first in my last with great
And chuckled to think how irate he would be.
FROM History's truthful page,
We all of us may know
My first was strongly built
Thousands of years ago.
The books of ancient lore
We read again and see
That long before my first
My whole was said to be,-

And people who lived then,
Had surely never heard
Of eighteen ninety-six,
My second and my third.

the age of the sender and the neatness of the manuscript.
All answers must be received at the office of ST. NICHO-
LAS before October 15, 1896, and no competitor may
send more than one copy.
Arrange the answers in the order of the charades
and number them on the left-hand margin.
Give your name, age (if over eighteen, simply so state),
and address at the top of each page of the answers, leav-
ing space enough above to fasten the pages together.
Use sheets of note-paper size, and black ink, and write
on only one side of the paper.
Address: Office of ST. NICHOLAS,
Union Square, New York City;
and write in left-hand lower corner of the envelope
"Prize Puzzle."
WE were all alone in the castle,
Sir Harry and my first;
We sat by the smold'ring embers,
And idly we conversed.

Sir Harry went to the window
And looked out through my last,
'T is a biting night outside," quoth he,
It blows a roaring blast."

It was twelve by the clock in the turret,
I was smoking my last cigar;
My whole, on the bridge at midnight,
Was chained to a metal bar.
MAID of Athens, ere we part,
Hear my first with tender heart;
Ere another hour is past,
Let me be of thee my last.
Then behold my very soul
Filled o'erflowing with my whole.
To the grandest of monarchs that ever was
My first was presented by Sheba's fair queen.

Far, far away back in the ages long past,
According to science, the earth was my last.

My whole is a creature exceedingly fair,
Addicted to singing and combing her hair.



DOROTHY DAUBER sat serene,
Painting my total on a screen,
When a little mouse went scampering o'er
Dorothy Dauber's yellow floor.
Dorothy, with a piercing cry,
Clambered up on a table high;
My first went madly rushing past
Waving vigorously my last.
Such a commotion in the house,
And all on account of a little mouse.
HOPING my first kind Heaven will send her,
The suppliant prays on bended knee.
Like Little Billee, "young and tender,"
We all desire my last shall be.
So that she might become my,whole
God breathed in Eve a living soul.
A SOLDIER of the rebels lay dying in the field;
A brave but sturdy fighter, he could fall but
could not yield.
But a- comrade stood beside him while his
life-blood trickled fast,
And bent, with pitying glances, to wrap him
in my last,
Seeking his country's glory, e'en in the can-
non's mouth.
Though in the midst of bloodshed, my first
stood for the South.
The dying soldier faltered as he took his com-
rade's hand,
Saying, Make my whole, my brother, it is
my last command."
BENEATH the Roman Eagle's glory,
Great Casar, famed in song and story,
Triumphant banners floating o'er him,
Carried my Roman first before him.

In springtime days of sunny weather,
When lads and lasses dance together,
Around the May-pole gaily flying,
They are my last, there 's no denying.

A gallant knight and lovely lady-
Were sauntering down a pathway shady;
He offered her, with words beguiling,
My whole, which she accepted, smiling.
VOL. XXIII.- 130.

AN old philosopher was my last,
And his wife was my first in the distant past.

Select two sticks that are smooth and straight,
Lay them with care and precision great,
One north and south, one east and west,
They are my whole, it must be confessed.
LEAVING my whole with grief and pain
Columbus sailed across the main.
He came at last to western lands
And saw the Red Men's savage bands.
They were my last, they were my first,
Columbus' fears were then dispersed.
MEN often strive my first to gain
By strength or skill, by speed or worth;
It causes deepest woe and pain,
It causes also joy and mirth.

I watched a tennis-player serve,
And through the air the ball whizzed fast,
But took an unexpected curve;
The umpire said it was my last.

With thoughtful eyes and puzzled brow,
It is my whole you 're reading now.
MY first, men call thee wicked, and perhaps
they may be right,
Yet I contend thou shouldst be judged ac-
cording to thy light.

My last, thou art a messenger received with
joy or dread,-
Frequently driven, very deaf, found in an hum-
ble shed.

My whole, of upright bearing, and found in
many lands,
In order to be seen of men, upon street-cor-
ners stands.
MY first is a statesman, a pen and a bird;
There are people who worship my last, I have
My whole sailed away in a ship called the
And hoped to obtain a much-coveted cargo.



My first, of high degree,
Thousands succumb to thee -
In Oriental countries thou art found;
Beneath thy mighty power
Thy fainting victims cower,
Thy greatness brings them prostrate to the

Unhonored and unsung,
My second was, when young,
Beheaded by a tyrant's stern decree;
Her home and friends she left,
Her children were bereft,
Yet martyred in a worthy cause was she.
In far Afghanistan,
In China and Japan,
On Greenland's ice and India's coral strands;
My whole in mighty hordes,
So history records,
Worship their idols in barbaric bands.
AH, distinctly I remember
'T was my first and not December,
And each separate dying ember wrought
its ghost upon the floor,
Eagerly I wished the morrow,
Vainly I had sought to borrow
In my last, surcease of sorrow, sorrow for
the lost Lenore.

For my whole so rare and radiant,
Whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here forevermore.
AT my first was my friend.
We went for my last;
I 'd a half-hour to spend,
At my first was my friend;
As we went round the bend
O'er my total we passed.
At my first was my friend,
We went for my last.
My total of the heavens showed that a storm
would burst,
So we went into my second before it should
my first.

AN artist stepped into an office one day,
And held up my first for the clerk to survey;
"It 's a good black and white,
But it is n't quite right,
For I just drew it off in a hurry last night.
It 's not very fine,
Nor of novel design,
But I hope 't will be taken and hung on the
He had scarcely gone out when a lady came
And she stopped in to ask if my second was
"'T was a canvas," she said,
"And it fills me with dread,
To think that the colors have faded or spread."
Well, I sat there all day,
In that very same way,
Amazed at the endless and changing array
Of my whole that appeared in a motley dis-
Percale and pique,
Some green and some gray,
Worn in all colors and worn in all shades,
Worn by the ladies and worn by the maids,
By large and by small,
By short and by tall,
Till I ran away home to get out of it all.


MY grandsire in the Mayflower came across
the raging waters,
And so I sought to join the Revolutionary
I studied up my pedigree, and when my search
was ended,
I learned to my chagrin that from my first I
had descended.

The cashier left his books in wild confusion
and disorder,
And started to my last across the far Cana-
dian border.

My whole is used by artisans of every clime
and nation,
The blacksmith's need, the mason's pride, the
school-girl's detestation.



THE breaking waves dashed high,
The vessel rose and fell;
My first was drenched from end to end
With every heavy swell.

The vivid lightning flashed,
The awful thunder boomed.
Unless my last is sent to us,"
The captain said, we 're doomed."

The tempest cleared away
Before the morning light.
Within my whole," the captain said,
"I 've not seen such a night."
THE jolly old farmer was my last;
As he went to my first, o'er my total he passed.
OLD Deacon Griggs made money fast;
His greatest virtue was my last.
But his son John turned out my whole,
Which grieved the deacon's sordid soul;
For hast'ning to my first, the son
Disbursed the gold that Griggs had won.
MY first, with the meek brown eyes,
In whose orbs a shadow lies,
Standing with reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet.
If where wild-flowers blossom rank,
You my last upon the bank,
Down the hillside you may roll
And play havoc with my whole.
I CROSSED my first upon a bridge
Although my first was dry;
And when I reached the other side,
My first was in my eye.

My second it would puzzle me
Exactly to define,
Perhaps 'tis easy to your powers,
'T is difficult to mine.

My whole used with intelligence
A wondrous power will prove,
And if it is but great enough
A mountain it may move.

UPON my last I saw a yacht;
My last is smooth, my first is not.
My first felt Alexander's blade,
My last has formed a strong blockade;
Both can be broken, cut or made;
And when you see my whole displayed
Upon my last, oh, then beware!
To venture near it do not dare.
The yacht was flying fast; the day was fair;
The sky was clear and blue; and my first,
Upon the sailors and upon the sea.
I stood upon the deck, and with my last
I saw the distant shores of Barnegat,
I watched the heaving billows roll and toss,
I thought that we were going to my whole.
MY first, an Irish poet,
Sang songs and ballads gay;
My second was a Redcoat,
A general in his day.

My whole was large and heavy,
(It was a sorry case),
The stranger took it with him,
Yet left it on the place.
As my first was walking with weary step, on
a drear and lonely road,
With a heavy heart and a downcast glance,
of my second he bore a load;
He saw my third, he was soon my third, he
had reached his welcome goal,
And with song and dance and merry jest, he
listened to my whole.
AN ancient family of Chaldee
Went from my first to Canaan's land.
My second I can never see,
But I can hold it in my hand.
My whole is found on the ocean's bed,
Though often on pillows he rests his head.
IT was my whole, a thunder-storm had burst;
My last was fierce, and filled us with my first.



My whole drops from trees.
My last is a season,
When as every one sees
My whole drops from trees.

My first is a breeze,
And that is the reason
My whole drops from trees.
My last is a season.

BENEATH the gaslight's brilliant glare
The feast was spread with dainties rare.
My whole was set with silver fine,
And shining glass and sparkling wine.
A wise professor, old and staid,
Was talking to a chattering maid.
In ancient lore she was not versed,
She was my last, and he my first;
While I across, the table sat,
Wishing I could enjoy her chat.

MY first is black and white and blue and red,
'T is yellow, yes, and sometimes it is gray;
'T is high and low, 't is restless and 't is dead,
'T is writ for us to read and sing and play.

My last is greeted with delight and dread,
The farmer's solace and the farmer's bane;
Trod by his feet, yet worn upon his head,
Refreshed and ruined by a drenching rain.

My whole lay deep beneath the waves, they
But bravely rescued from the billow's roll,
Though dripping wet upon the sands out-
With gladness and delight I pressed my
THE melancholy days have come, the sad-
dest of the year;
There 's not a flower on all the hills because
my first is here.
And through the keen and wintry air I watch
the leaves my last;
I shall not see my whole again until the win-
ter 's past.

My first's a very common thing,-
It has been worn by cat and king;
Part of my lady's fine attire,
The soldier's pride, the tramp's desire.

My second, with a vacant stare,
Jaunty red cap and curling hair,
Once at a gay and festive scene,
Captured a bright and smiling queen.

My whole is very often used
To hit a beast that 's much abused.
MY first is often broken, 't is so frail;
Sometimes it has a head, sometimes a tail;
Lives in the water, worn upon the hand,.
Dooms the offender, represents a land.
My last is found on mankind and on brute,
Possessed alike by fish and fowl and fruit.
The daring mariner who seeks the pole,
Failing to find it, may secure my whole.
MY first was ground beneath the oppressor's
Subjected unto barbarous tyrannies;
With ears cut off, encaged in netted wire
Into a burning fiery furnace thrust.
My first take from my second, and my whole
My second is a faithful friend.
Gaily with him across the moors I go
From mor to dewy eve.
I went one day
To visit an old man. Beside the fire
He sate. His well-loved pipe, made of my whole,
He smoked in calm and undisturbed content.
WHEN from my ivied casement I look down
Upon the garden bathed in sunset glow
I see my first ranged in imposing rows
Yet distant as the poles,
I hear the noise
Of merry children romping in their glee;
I hear their laughter and I hear my last.

A hero of my youthful days there was,
Who, with inquiring mind and hatchet sharp,
Upon my whole reached everlasting fame.




A SOLDIER and a sailor met
One day upon the shore;
And one was my first with a coat of my last,
And my whole the other wore.
OF my first, 't is averred
That there is no such word;
But we know better.
Unless you said "Proceed "-
I would not dare to read
My second letter.
Unless my total you have made,
Alreadyyou 've guessed this charade.
BOSTON, my first is said to be,
And Milton was my next.
My whole, an ancient mother.
Who was often much perplexed.
A COLLEGE youth toward magic yearned,
And all the wizard's arts he learned.
He had the mumbo-jumbo pat,
And made my first in his silk hat.
Sorcery, black art, and all the rest
He could accomplish with the best;
And when, as wizard, he fell flat,
He made my last in his silk hat.
Dressed for the street, he chanced to pass
One day, before his cheval-glass;
With faultless garb and new cravat,
He saw my whole in his silk hat.
THOUGH some one spoke this truthful word,
"The pen is mightier than the sword,"
Without my first, you 'll all agree,
Of little use the pen would be.
Deep in my second, long ago,
Young Mr. Green was said to throw
A victim innocent of wrong,
The hero of a well-known song.
What products of what mighty brains!
What wond'rous books my whole contains!
What reams of prose and verse! Yet all
Tinged with the bitterness of gall!
IN certain realms men have to bring
My first to earth before their king;


In others, they are only bound
To make my second touch the ground.
My whole 's a curious little man-
One of a most amusing clan.
A BRAVE man looked forth and a figure he saw;
'T was bound to my first--he surveyed it
with awe.
And as it was fast disappearing from sight,
He began to my second with furious might.
An often-fought foe, very hard to control,
In the Scriptures we read of the fall of my whole.
MY dogs I love, my horses I adore;
They 're much to me, and yet my last is more.
And though my first is less, my whole I know,
Has ever been my last's unconquered foe.
IN my first sweet Peggy rode,
Like my whole her fair cheek glowed;
At her feet my heart I 'd cast,
If she 'd only be my last.
SAFE from the cold December storm,
I sat by my whole so bright and warm,
When the cry of my first I plainly heard.
My last sprang up without a word;
And panic-stricken, in sudden fright,
We rushed out into the winter night.
THE night was dark, the way was cold,
And very cold and tired was I;
Across the wide, deserted wold
We trudged beneath a heavy sky.
We felt of friends and joy bereft
Since my bright second we had left.

In sooth, 't was bad enough to plod
From scenes so dear to beau and belle,
But Fate had still a heavier rod -
My first without a warning fell,
And on the ground lay white and still,
Just as we reached the castle hill.

We ran, and as we ran we pressed
My first into my second small.
Not ours to sleep, to sit, to rest,
If we would reach the town at all;
But still we stooped my first to roll,
And thus that night we made my whole.



[Begun in tle January number.]



THE Co. seemed to have forgotten all about
his quarrel with the senior partner the next
morning, but Sindbad soon reminded him of it
by his icy reserve and his studied politeness at
the breakfast-table. It was: "Mr. Brown, we
await your pleasure, sir"; or, "Thomas, my
lad, pass the butter to Mr. Brown. He must
be served first, of course."
After a while the situation seemed to dawn
upon Mr. Brown, and at length he said very
"I hope you don't hold any grudge against
me, Mr. Sindbad ?"
Oh, no, indeed," replied Sindbad, his nose
high in the air. I had almost forgotten your
existence when I met you on the piazza just
now. Let me see. I believe you claim to have
a treacherous memory ? "
"Treacherous is not the word, sir," replied
Mr. Brown. My memory is too weak to be
"How sad!" sneered Sindbad. "But I don't
suppose you have forgotten our agreement of
last night ? "
Agreement of last night ? said Mr. Brown,
tapping his forehead. "Let me think! Oh,
yes you were to forfeit the enchanted trousers
if we met with no accident between Newhamp-
ton and New York."
"I thought you would n't forget it," said
Sindbad. "But let me assure you that you '1
never own those trousers, sir."
"Are you going to back out ?" asked Mr.
Brown, anxiously.
"Back out! No, sir; George W. Sindbad's
word is his bond. But that train will meet
with an accident."

And he strode from the room, followed by
Tom and Mr. Brown.
*" I say," whispered the angry boy to the Co.,
"let 's dissolve the partnership at once."
"Let 's do nothing of the sort," returned Mr.
Brown promptly. "I can't afford to, for I ex-
pect to be the owner of those trousers within
an hour and a half. Stick to me, my boy, and
you won't regret it."
They were just in time to catch the express
for New .York, and were fortunate enough to
secure parlor-car seats.
For some minutes neither of the trio spoke.
Mr. Brown was the first to attempt to break
the ice.
"Beautiful day, Mr. Sindbad," he said with
an ingratiating smile.
Umph I" grunted Sindbad.
"I suppose you've often visited New York ?"
continued the Co.
"Umph! "
"Now, my dear fellow," said Mr. Brown,
leaning over and placing his hand on Sindbad's,
it is really wrong for you to allow a slight dif-
ference of opinion to estrange us. You believe
that this train will not reach New York safely, I
believe it will. Should it prove that I am in the
wrong I shall acknowledge my error, and en-
tertain in the future a greater respect for your
judgment than I have at present -if that be
The severity of Sindbad's features had gradu-
ally relaxed during this speech.
You are very kind, sy," he said. "I assure
you that you are in the wrong; and I am will-
ing to stake my reputation as an explorer that
this train will meet with a serious accident."
"Let us hope so," said the Co. suavely.
Meanwhile Tom sat staring out of the win-
dow with a very long face. He was obliged to.
confess to himself that he was disappointed.
The Arabian Nights Sindbad and the real Sind-


bad, the Arabian Nights adventures and the
real adventures, were so different.
"I 'm afraid Sindbad is getting too old," he
soliloquized. "It seems to me he 's in his
second childhood, or pretty near it; it must be
time. But maybe we 're going to have a bet-

ter adventure now. I can't help feeling sorry,
though, for the other passengers, who don't
know that Sindbad is on board."
His sympathy was wasted, however, for the
train rolled into the Grand Central station ex-
actly on time. Just before it came to a stand-
still Sindbad's face grew very pale, and he said,
addressing Tom, with a ghastly attempt at a
"They tell me this is New York, but I 'm
sure there must be some mistake. No ? Really,
this is unaccountable. Will some one kindly
bring me a glass of water ? "
, The porter, who chanced to be within hear-



ing, brought the water. Sindbad swallowed
the contents of the glass at a gulp; then he
I am better now, I think; but this is a se-
vere blow to me. A run of that length, and
no accident! Tut! tut! "
"The old man is breaking
up fast," whispered Mr. Brown
to Tom. "It is as I feared.
We must get him to a hotel as
soon as we can."
Sindbad was tenderly lifted
into a cab, and driven to a
hotel not far from the station.
When the partners were
alone in their rooms the great
explorer suddenly rallied.
The enchanted trousers
are yours, Brown," he said.
"Yes, I suppose they are,"
-replied the new partner; but
I want you to keep them until
you become reconciled to part-
ing with them -say, a week
1'i or ten days."
"No, you shall have them
at once," said Sindbad. "Ex-
cuse me a few minutes -"
and he entered his dressing-
Poor old man! said Mr.
Brown, evidently trying hard
to assume a compassionate
tone, "it is rather rough on
him. But a bargain is a
Tom made no reply; a few minutes later
Sindbad entered, wearing a pair of trousers of
the latest London cut.
"You will find the others in my dressing-
room whenever you wish them," he said. "I
tell you because, I may not be here."
"Really, you alarm me, my dear Sindbad,"
cried Mr. Brown. Where are you going, may
I ask?"
"I don't know that myself yet," replied the
explorer; "but I am about to take a serious
"What are you going to do ? asked Mr.
Brown, edging toward the door.


"I am going to summon an eminent and
powerful fairy," answered Sindbad. "I do
this for two reasons: first, because I know
you both doubt the truth of my claims, and
this will convince you of it; and secondly,
because I feel the need of assistance at this
trying, time. Please be seated. You 'd better
take that chair over by the window, Mr. Brown.
Thomas, you sit on the sofa. And mind that
neither of you speaks while the fairy is here,
unless she addresses you."
Tom took his place on the sofa, and Mr.
Brown seated himself on the edge of the chair.
In a moment, Sindbad sprinkled upon the
hearth a few grains of a white powder which he
had taken from his pocket; he now applied a
match to it, at the same time muttering several
words which neither Tom nor Mr. Brown could
understand; a cloud of smoke arose, but quickly
cleared away.
Say, Sindbad," exclaimed Mr. Brown, gig-
gling hysterically, this is really nonsensical!
Your methods are out of date. Why, in this
enlightened age, in the glare of the nineteenth
century -gracious /"
This sudden exclamation and the nervous
jump that accompanied it were occasioned by
a sharp rap upon the door.
Come in," cried Sindbad, and a servant en-
tered, with a tray upon which was a card.
"A lady to see you, Mr. Sindbad," he an-
nounced. The explorer glanced at the card.
"Mrs. Parkinson Chadwick, eh ? he said.
" Show the lady up."
As,the man left the room Mr. Brown, who
was evidently greatly relieved, said:
Now this is very annoying, just as we were
expecting to have a seance with a real fairy.
But, after all, Sindbad, your charm does n't
seem to work. Own up, please, that your fairy
was only a creation of your lively imagination.
But who is Mrs. Parkinson Chadwick ? "
Don't you see ? -can't you see ? shrieked
Sindbad in a high falsetto voice, "that she is the
fairy ? "
A fairy with such a name as Mrs. Parkinson
Chadwick! laughed Mr. Brown. Oh, now,
I say, Sindbad, that is really taxing our credu-
lity a little too much. Because your incantation
fails to work you try to pass off a chance caller

as a fairy. It won't do, my dear boy, it really
Tom could see that Sindbad was about to
make a very sharp reply, when the door flew
open, and a dowdily dressed little old lady en-
"My dear Mrs. Chadwick," exclaimed the
explorer, this is, indeed, kind of you "
It is n't anything of the sort," snapped
the newcomer, ignoring Sindbad's outstretched
hands and sinking into a chair; I should n't
have done it if I could have helped myself.
And I do think it was inconsiderate, not to say
unkind, in you to summon me in such a hurry
after this long lapse of years. You must re-
member, Sindbad, that I 'm not so young as I
used to be."
I am very sorry," said Sindbad apologeti-
cally, to have caused you any inconvenience,
but you remember you gave me permission to
summon you -"
"At a critical point in your life," interrupted
Mrs. Chadwick. Those were my words; I
remember them well."
"And so do I," smiled Sindbad; "and very
kind, indeed, it was in you to allow me the
privilege, and I am truly grateful. But won't
you be seated? "
No, I won't," said the fairy. "Tell me
what you want, and be quick about it."
"I want your advice and assistance," re-
sponded the explorer. "I -"
"Wait a minute, we are not alone. Who
are these persons ?"
And Mrs. Chadwick glanced scornfully at
Tom and Mr. Brown.
"They're my partners," replied Sindbad; "if
I 'd never met them I should n't have sum-
moned you to-day."
"Then I wish you 'd never met them. Well,
is it necessary they should remain here during
our interview ? "
If you don't object, my dear Mrs. Chad-
"Don't Dear Mrs. Chadwick' me I don't
care whether they stay or not. Now then,
Sindbad, out with it! what do you want me to
do for you ? "
I 'm in a fix," cried the explorer, evidently
much agitated; "I seemito be losing my grip,



if you '11 pardon the expression." And he im-
petuously poured out the story of the events of
the past few hours.
The fairy listened attentively; and, when he
had finished, said:
"It 's all your own fault; you should n't
have taken partners."
"I realize that fact now that it is too late,"
almost sobbed Sindbad. Do not reproach
me-I beg."
"Don't be a baby," said Mrs. Chadwick,
sharply. I '11 help you out this time, but I
warn you not to summon me in a hurry again."
"I won't."
"Just sprinkle upon the hearth a little more
of the powder which
you used to summon
Sindbad obeyed.
"Now ignite it.
That 's it. Now I '11
proceed to transport
both your objection-
able partners to an
uninhabited island in 'I
the Pacific, and I '11 ,
warrant they won't L,?i''
get away from it in a
"Hold on! inter-
rupted Tom, "that
won't do." .
"Notby any means,"
added Mr. Brown. "I
am quite satisfied with
New York."
"Were there ever-
two such marplots as
you! cried Sindbad -
frantically. "Did n't
I tell you not to speak ,'T 'S ALL YOUR OW
while Mrs. Chadwick
was here ? If you could have kept quiet only ten
seconds longer everything would have been all
right; you 'd have been comfortably deposited
on a nice, commodious island where you could
have had things all your own way, and I should
have been rid of you forever. Mrs. Chadwick,
I don't like to trouble you, I assure you, but
will you not kindly begin all over again? "

No, I won't," replied the fairy in a very
sharp, high-pitched voice. "It would be
against all rule and precedent."
"But," pleaded the explorer, can't you
make an exception in this case?"
No, I can't," snapped Mrs. Chadwick.
"All I can do for you now is to grant you the
regulation three wishes, and I '11 divide 'em up
among you. Each of you three people has a
wish-now make whatever use of them you
like." And the fairy very abruptly flounced
out of the room, slamming the door with great
"Well," said Sindbad, drawing a long breath,
"I never saw her in such a temper before, and

_- Z


I 've known her ever since your great-great-
grandfathers were in swaddling-clothes."
"The duration of your acquaintance with
the so-called Mrs. Chadwick," said Mr. Brown
very stiffly, "can be of no possible interest to
Thomas or myself. It is now understood,-is
it not,-that the firm of Sindbad, Smith and
Co. has been dissolved and no longer exists ? "



I hope so," replied Sindbad. "And you
are both much better off than when I met you.
You have each been granted a wish "
And I '11 have mine right now," interrupted
Tom, who had been awaiting a chance to speak
ever since the fairy's departure. I wish to
meet my father. -Why, father!" And he
rushed up to Mr. Brown with extended hands.
"Oh, really this is nonsense! exclaimed the
Co. Calm yourself, Thomas."
"But you are my father," persisted Tom.
"Really, I think you must be mistaken,"
said Mr. Brown. "I have n't the slightest
recollection of you. But I forgot that I had
lost my memory! We '11 soon settle this busi-
ness: I wish my memory back."
The next moment Tom and the Co. were
in each other's arms, and the latter was saying:
It all comes back to me now! I left you
at that school in Oakdale just before my mem-
ory failed me. Then I forgot to whose care I
had intrusted you, and soon after I forgot your
very existence. And that was my sorrow!



Dear! dear! Well, I don't wonder I was wor-
ried. And, just to think! my name is really
James P. Brown! But I say, Sindbad, old man,
why don't you congratulate us ? "
"Because," slowly replied Sindbad, who had
been surveying his partners with a cold, cynical

stare, I don't want anything more to do with
either of you. Now, I have a wish, and I wish
for the power to become invisible at will, and
particularly desire to disappear right now."
Scarcely had he uttered the last word when
he vanished.
"I say, Mr. Sindbad," cried Mr. Brown,
springing toward the spot where the great ex-
plorer had stood but a moment before, "this
won't do! Come back -and let 's talk this
business over coolly and calmly."
But as he spoke the door opened and closed
apparently without human assistance.
He 's gone! cried Tom.
"Well, let him go," said Mr. Brown. "I'm not
going to run after him. Anyhow, we have those
trousers left."
So saying he ran into Sindbad's late dressing-
room, returning in a moment with the enchanted
This garment will really be of great help to
us," he said, and we must be very careful of
it. Why, good gracious! I can't find any
money in the pocket. You
Tom tried; but it was of no
use- the, gold eagle would
not materialize.
"The trousers are not trans-
ferable, that 's the amount of
it," said Mr. Brown, with a
very blank face. Oh, well,
never mind," he continued.
I 've just remembered that I
have a very comfortable ac-
count in a bank not far from
here, besides several pieces of
property in Harlem, which
must have increased in value
by this time, so we sha'n't go
hungry. But let 's see if we
can't find Sindbad."
They inquired at the office,
but no one had seen him.
"Well, Tom," said Mr. Brown, "if ever
there was a stubborn, self-willed man, it is that
same George W. Sindbad. I don't believe we
shall ever see him again."
I don't suppose we shall," sighed the boy.
And they never did.


t : :hool the teacher wou.d.Wt
lo dream of scolding me.
-towt+be theboy would.
s a e-



.t t
aI I .7l:

lie and. dLo .

_7D-M A-F
I'd walk wi+h long sti-ides
to ao-cL f
As Kings do, ons the stage;
IFa tsmt _y foot, and s5y
ha o!-
\A/ithouttheber!-lhe F-es
-y &ge-';

v..ldc be a oost delightful
t hng
To _alk 4on the goass.
Polkee,,n ckY+ arrest a King!-
Theycd Ka'ke to let me fass.

* "; ~: "

- 41~e

*-- Z: V 1
If I should. haapen to be ll
The doctor shoulcn'-t make
Me show my tongue, o- take & bill
Withocct a biece of cake.

They'd be afv-edt oF me,- what funt
They'd feas- my oyal look.
IdE lod. i+ over eve-yone,-
Except-e excel+ ou cook.


I -ea lly like to
be a l Me t
It must b
Ik ha've ny way
n asK o ona






A LITTLE knot of people slowly gathered
outside the wooden door of the tiny stone hut,
patiently awaiting their turn to enter. Despite
rain and the discomfort of standing in a puddle
under dripping umbrellas, we were as eager as
Dotty to see the wheels go round." Presently
we heard a bolt draw back, the solid old door
creaked open on its hinges, and we walked into
a one-roomed cabin. Almost at the back, in
the middle, was the old well. In appearance
it resembled most other wells, being merely a
dark hole surrounded by a stone guard, around
which had been placed a two-stepped wooden
platform. Over the well was the usual arrange-
ment of ropes and a bucket. When the keeper,

or showman, rather, had carefully locked the
door again, he mounted the steps, and began in
a slow, monotonous voice:
"This well is seven hundred years old. It
is almost two hundred feet deep one hundred
and seventy-five feet down, and twenty-five
feet of water. It has never been known to
go dry. It would take a man too long to wind
the bucket up, so we have it done this way.
Come, 'Jacob!'" We turned in the direction in
which the showman had called, and saw that a
huge wooden wheel, about twenty-five feet in
diameter, had been put alongside the well, and
arranged in such a manner that its axle formed
the beam around which the bucket-rope was


coiled. The wheel and a tiny space to the left
was partitioned off by a low railing, and in this
inclosure stood a small but wise-looking don-
key. He had a very large head, enormous ears,
and a fat, round little body. While keeping
one eye on the showman, he playfully thrust
his head over the rail, and with his teeth seized
an apple from the hand of an unwary country-
man who was gazing at the hanging rope.
However, on hearing the words Come, Jacob!"
his Donkeyship immediately dropped the apple,
assumed a business-like air, and entering the
wheel, began to trot. The wheel revolved
fairly rapidly, and looked much like that in a
squirrel's cage, on a large scale. When Jacob
thought it about time for the bucket to come
up, he stopped, and glanced round to see how
much rope had been wound up, and then con-
tinued his trotting. After doing this two or
three times, he finally gave an extra spurt, and
upon seeing the bucket appear, jumped out
of the wheel before the man had time to call
to him.
Jacob stood quietly by, panting a little, and
gazing with interest at us to see if we properly
appreciated his feat. We each were offered
a glass of the clear, sparkling water, and then a
lighted candle placed in a stand was lowered

to enable us, by looking over the curb, to judge
the depth of the well.
The exhibition being, now over, we were
ushered out by a door opposite the one through
which we had entered, and the next batch of
sight-seers was admitted at the same time. We
had purchased a photograph of Jacob pre-
vious to going out, thinking that a picture of
him, standing faithfully in his wheel, made a
far better souvenir than any spoons with the
castle engraved on them. As we looked back
on the tiny building that now protected the old
well from the ravages of time and weather, we
realized how absolutely necessary a water-sup-
ply must often have been.
Carisbrooke Castle stands on the highest
point of the Isle of Wight, and thus it naturally
came to be looked upon by the inhabitants of
neighboring villages as the only refuge when
a foreign enemy used that beautiful island as a
stepping-stone to England.
It is probable Jacob is descended from a
long line of ancestors who did their share of
work in times of trouble and turmoil; and'
though their descendants are now doing the
same work for the pleasure of visitors, he,
nevertheless, looks as if he inherited a certain
sense of pride of office.



CC Jenck5
(Nonscnse verses.)

NoIV. IteyTrmvel AbrodaL.

THE time was morn,, and the day was bright,
And the sky was blue, and the clouds were white,
When the Very Good Friends set out to find
What travel would do to improve the mind.
And to make the test complete and grand
Each went alone to a different land,
S And sought, with the utmost thoughtful care,
A different mode of getting there.
The rabbit rode a velocipede
To the tropic haunts of the tow-head Swede;
The whale set out in a three-decked ship
To take in the Cumberland Mountain trip;
While the donkey took a sleeping-car
From the Sandwich Islands to Malabar.
In a big balloon the porcupine
Went down to explore a copper mine;
And the cuckoo climbed up Bunker Hill
In a wheelbarrow turned by a water-mill.
But they all, by the regular convex way,
Encircled the globe, and ret-.rned nert dni:
And, applying a yardstick, v-rr.- ;i.l t:i riite
That their minds were broadenedl ri. li,-ti !,
of an ell.
Excepting-guess. ho l b -Y
Oh, you never would gue r '
Why, the kangaroo.' .
Who bought a red dress
In Timbuctoo,
I- And forgetting the errand on wii hi!,
S| h.- ias bent,
His mind showed a vi
1 shrinkage :
... ninety per
.p- cent!


NoyV thy All Elh Sik.
'T WAS a luckless day, and no mistake-
The wind blew chill o'er the leafless lake -
The mossy moonbeams idly toyed
With the shadows cast-in celluloid.
'T was a luckless day, I am sorry to say-
For the Very Good Friends -oh! a luckless day!
The air grew thin, and the sunshine thick,
,And at half-past eight they-all fell sick.
UThe chipmunk had a bad attack
Of palpitation of the back;
The clam required a stimulant
To cure his cough; and the cormorant
Began to sneeze, and could n't quit
Till he tumbled down in a catnip fit;
The muskrat had so many chills
That he swallowed a hundred quinine pills;
The rat from a steel trap caught the grip;
i-'_ .' The crow had a swelling on his lip.
Such a terrible time they had the while, .
That it drew forth tears I'ronm the crocodile:
But the auk prescrib-d me wirds tro spell.
And very soon the, all got v ell.
They all got ill, aind they all got
But the '.&, : rO, ,,
Who never could tecll -
": For he never kne" ,
Whether he had a iunm or
Nor whether h:
lived. or

p -%% hat.


. ," A

" : Ii \ "


LITTLE finger, slim
and nimble,
Here am I, your
friendly Thim-
(Germans call me
Finger-hat ";
Jolly little name is
Put me on, and you
will see
What a helper I
can be.
Brother Needle 's
very fine -
Sharp and clever,
in his line,
But he oft would
puzzled be,
If he had no help
from me!
When the cloth is
stiff and hard,
Oft his headlong
dash is barred,
And he balks, and
frets, and pricks:

Says, "I 'm in a
dreadful fix!
This will never,
never do -
I shall really break
in two."
Then 's my time.
No fuss or
Just a steady, pa-
tient push--
And the stiffened
fiber slacks,
And the stubborn
threads relax,
And Friend Needle
darts along,
Singing his trium-
phant song.
Yes, I may not be
so keen,
Nor so brilliant to
be seen,
But 't is true that
without me
Ofttimes he would
puzzled be.

SLaura E. Richards.



O! little elves, 0! pretty elves,
That frolic all the night,
And to the flowers betake yourselves
To vanish with the light--

Why do you always dance and play
When I 'm not there to see,
And hurry, scurry, slip away,
As daylight dawns for me?
Z. D. Underlill.





LITTLE finger, slim
and nimble,
Here am I, your
friendly Thim-
(Germans call me
Finger-hat ";
Jolly little name is
Put me on, and you
will see
What a helper I
can be.
Brother Needle 's
very fine -
Sharp and clever,
in his line,
But he oft would
puzzled be,
If he had no help
from me!
When the cloth is
stiff and hard,
Oft his headlong
dash is barred,
And he balks, and
frets, and pricks:

Says, "I 'm in a
dreadful fix!
This will never,
never do -
I shall really break
in two."
Then 's my time.
No fuss or
Just a steady, pa-
tient push--
And the stiffened
fiber slacks,
And the stubborn
threads relax,
And Friend Needle
darts along,
Singing his trium-
phant song.
Yes, I may not be
so keen,
Nor so brilliant to
be seen,
But 't is true that
without me
Ofttimes he would
puzzled be.

SLaura E. Richards.



O! little elves, 0! pretty elves,
That frolic all the night,
And to the flowers betake yourselves
To vanish with the light--

Why do you always dance and play
When I 'm not there to see,
And hurry, scurry, slip away,
As daylight dawns for me?
Z. D. Underlill.





BY C. D. L.

LISTEN, children, listen, and I will tell you true,
About a little pussy, and 't was -
Mew, mew, mew !
Just as black as midnight, with long and silky
Happy as the sunshine, and 't was -
Purr, purr, purr.

Wakened up his mama, and 't was -
Scat, scat, scat!

Down she dragged him from the shelf,
white as snowball now;
Boxed his ears with vigor, and 't was -
Me-ow, me-ow, me-ow /

One day when his mama was purring sound .
Slyly stole this pussy, and 't was- Now his mama's slumbers are sweet and calm
Creep, creep, creep, to her -
Jumped up on the pantry shelf, in the milk Pussy minds his mama, and 't is -
fell flat, PTrr, purr, purr.
VOL. XXIII.- 132. 1049

L-. 4


By F. B. O.

Y.P~ A--I--




IT was almost dark, and Geoffry,
With his nose against the pane,
Watched the last faint tints of sunset
Flush the sky, and fade again;
And he said, "I wish that something-
Something strange and unforeseen,
Something very nice would happen,
For to-night is Hallowe'en."

Lo! the words had scarce escaped him
When there came a sudden knock,
Which aroused him from his musings
With an unexpected shock;

And, before he 'd time to answer,
Open flew his chamber door,
And in walked a figure stranger
Than he 'd ever seen before.

Such a man! -so queer, so funny,
With small, twinkling, bright black eyes,,
Altogether so uncommon,
Geoffry stared in dumb surprise.
But his guest, in accents friendly,
Said: "Excuse me, sir, I pray,
For intruding on your musing
In this unexpected way;


"'But we thought, I and my brothers,-
There are ten of us in all,-
That if you had no objection,
We would stop and make a call.
But it may not be convenient;
If you 've something else to do
Do not hesitate to say so,
And we '11 not intrude on you."

But by this time Geoff had started
To his feet, and now exclaimed:
"Sir, believe me, of my rudeness
I am really quite ashamed,
For I 'm very glad to see you.
And your brothers-where are they? "
"My dear sir," replied the other,
"They'll be here without delay."

Then again the door flew open,
And in trooped the other nine.
To describe them were a puzzle
For a brighter pen than mine;
Some were short, some tall, some crooked,
But each wore a pleasant smile,
As they sauntered up to Geoffry
In a jaunty single file.

Then the first one gave an order
To his funny brothers nine,
And with movement military
They fell back into a line;
And, to Geoffry's great amazement,
They at once began to sing
In such clear and hearty voices,
That they made the whole room ring:


We are ten jolly brothers
As ever you can find,
Of different size and features,
But all, sir, of one mind.

Each month, with your permission,
We '11 make a call on you,
And, if we 're not mistaken,
Teach you a thing or two.

We aim to entertain you,
But we shall not rehearse
The program we 've planned for you
Of prose and song and verse.

This eve we will perform, sir,
A little trick we know,
And if you watch us closely
Our family name 't will show.

Then the first one snapped his fingers,.
And with laughter Geoffry shook
At the comical positions
That they instantly all took;
For they kicked, they twirled, they capered,
Twisting up in marvelous shapes,
Till, instead of human beings,
They looked more like agile apes

Then like magic, quick as lightning,
Just as if transfixed they stood,
Looking like fantastic figures
Carved from bits of stone or wood;
"Ah! I know you!" shouted Geoffiy,
"What you 're up to now I see;
Oh, I know you; yes, I 'm certain
What your family name must be."

And the brothers winked and nodded
In a most convulsing way,
Saying, Sir, we know you 've guessed it,
But don't give the trick away."
As for you, my gentle readers,
If their trick you would discern,
Study this long illustration
And their name you, too, will learn.




ST. NICHOLAS received a great many fine lists of answers to the Prize Puzzle printed in the July number; and
a great majority of the lists showed careful and intelligent research, and bore evidence of honest and conscientious
work on the part of their young senders.
In a few of the lists, however, a whole page was missing, and this and similar oversights probably have pre-
vented some from winning prizes and others from appearing on the Roll of Honor.
Some of the contestants, who evidently considered an American historical puzzle as appropriate work for the
nation's birthday, tied up their lists with red, white, and blue ribbon; and one set of answers was decorated on
every page with cunningly painted fire-crackers, pistols, tomahawks, blunderbuses, and cannon. The whole set
of answers, thus embellished, bore so threatening an aspect, that it was with considerable trepidation the Com-
mittee admitted that three mistakes were made by its patriotic sender.
The correct list of answers is as follows:
I. Alexander Hamilton. 13. Dolly Madison. 25. Mary (or Molly) Pitcher.
2. John Jay. 14. Benjamin Franklin. 26. James Monroe.
3. Thomas Paine. 15. Col. Henry Lee. 27. Anthony Wayne.
4. Benedict Arnold. 16. Joseph Brant. 28. Noah Webster.
5. Martha Washington. 17. Sir Henry Clinton. 29. Ethan Allen.
6. Samuel Adams. 18. Joseph Warren. 30. John Adams.
7. John Hancock. 19. George Washington. 31. Thomas Jefferson.
8. Lord Carlisle. 20. Patrick Henry. 32. Richard Henry Lee.
9. Joel Barlow. 21. Abigail Adams. 33. General Lafayette.
1o. Israel Putnam. 22. Major Andre. 34. Paul Revere.
r1. General Burgoyne. 23. Lord Cornwallis. 35. John Paul Jones.
12. Aaron Burr. 24. John Stark.
Mothers, fathers, guardians, and teachers sent many delightful notes indorsing the work of the respective con-
testants and graciously adding an expression of their personal pleasure in ST. NICHOLAS.
The work of awarding the prizes was carefully done. Not only was the correctness of the list considered, but
the amount of assistance given by outsiders in preparing it. Of course, the sender of a correct list, who had re-
ceived help on a number of questions, is not entitled to precedence over one who had sent a list with but one
mistake, where the sender had done the work entirely unaided. It is pleasant to know that the first prize has
been bravely earned by one who may fairly be called a ST. NICHOLAS girl," for the letter which accompanies it
says: "During the ten days since Grace's eleventh birthday, she has held her tongue, lest it ask questions, and her
ears, lest they hear suggestions. American Orators,' in the identical timeworn and loveworn copy of ST. NICHOLAS
(vol. 2, page 542), read by Grace's mother at eleven, gave Grace the answer to No. I. Clues from the same,
and many a later article, guided her to hidden treasures in Bancroft, Irving, Sparks, Fiske, Eggleston, and Higgin-
son, until at last she believes she has discovered the thirty-five names."
The Committee of Judges have awarded the prizes as follows:
The Five-dollar Prize is awarded to Grace C. Norton, Omaha, Neb.
The Two Prizes of Four Dollars each are won by Isaac Ogden Woodruff, Quincy, Ill., and Fannie Goldstein,
Shreveport, La.
The Five Prizes of Three Dollars each are won by Walter Beach Hay, Los Angeles, Cal., Constance Lydia
Mills, Washington,'D. C., Margaret Little, Aspen, Col., Emma Jennette Pratt, Oshkosh, Wis., and Grace Medes,
Kansas City, Mo.
The Ten Prizes of Two Dollars each are won by Henry L. Gray, Bowling Green, Mo., Sophie S. Lanneau, Wake
Forest, N. C., Clara M. Root, Hopkinton, Mass., Vivien Lee, Dubuque, Iowa, Will C. Wilson, Minneapolis, Minn.,
Hubert G. Webb, Millburn, N. J., James Jackson Forstall, Chicago, Ill., Robert B. Gibson, Newport, Ky., Dorr
Viele, Buffalo, New York, and Marion M. Vaughan, Long Island City, N. Y.
The Twelve Prizes of One Dollar each are won by Sigourney Fay Nininger, Gurley, Ala., Jennie B. Elder, Lew-


istown, Pa., Will W. Gibson, Albany, N. Y., George W. Eggers, Dunkirk, N. Y., Lydia Atherton Stites, Wyoming,
Pa., Mabel Gray, Bowling Green, Mo., Kenneth Rae Shand, Livingston, Staten Island, N. Y., Muriel Cecile
Phillips, Kewanee, Ill., Stuart B. Garbutt, Fort Collins, Col., Margaret Welles, Minneapolis, Minn., Rose Moor,
Niles, Mich., and Catharine T. Phillips, South Hanover, Mass.

Jennie Mary Bailey, Ellen B. Townsend, Mata Davis, Mary Guest Smith, Bessie Ellsbree, Sally F. Dawes,
Katharine S. Doty, Lucretia de Schweinitz, Gertrude B. Weaver, Constance Miriam Kirby, Anna Schiller May,
Maria Campbell May, Marie L. Slack, Mollie A. Menner, Myra S. Chickering, Lucy A. Hamilton, Louise Parke
Atherton, Daniel M. Karcher, Dorothy Jackson, Ernest Warner, Robert P. Lee, Samuel Radley, Antonio J. War-
ing, Henry Bradshaw, Gertrude G. Byrne, Rita Parker, Harry F. Burgess, Belle Noble Dean, Helen W. Holbrook,
Audrey Holmes, Edith Ellsbree, Henry Fish, Emily C. Oliver, Paul T. Kamerer, Eleanor Lovell Little, Anna
Chamberlain, Nellie M. Fitz, Clara Frances Gardiner, Evelyn L. Swain, Martha Warner Riggs, James P. Rich-
ardson, Alice E. Dyar, George B. Bradshaw, Wm. Hustace Hubbard, Frederick T. Kelsey, Helen Benbridge,
Keith McLeod, S. D. Pauline Johnson, Cortlandt Bonny, Eleanor Whidden, Clara Ward Lewis, Louise DeWitt,
Susan A. Harrison, Edna Cushing, Walter Thompson Karcher, Eben Hitchings, Helen Eshbaugh, Kenneth Tay-
lor, Ruth E. Charles, Sarah Sanborne, Helen Thompson, Macgillivray Milne, Gertruda G. Vroom, Cynthia McCague,
Marie Josephine McGinnis, Ralph C. Willard, Ethel Atherstone, Edmund Clark Johnston, Harry Floyd, Ruth Balmer,
Edwin Balmer, Sarah Haskell, John Cecil Black, Maria H. Albee, Clifford C. Hubbard, Agnes M. Merry, Hilda Kirke
White, Beth Bradford Gilchrist, Josephine F. Wilson, Samuel Arnold Greeley, De Forest Gove, Jack Armstrong,
Bess Kelly, Nellie Thompson, Sandford M. Salyer, J. Clement Berry, Charles W. Brown, Clarissa Rinaker, Rod-
erick du Val Sheldon, Mary Ednah Fiske, Nellie Hughes, Willard A. Gibson, Deane Burns, Lucia S., Evelyn, and
John H. Holliday, Ferdinand I. Haber, Julian Pilgram, Nira V. Seaman, J. Fred Sultzbach, Arthur Wilson Page,
Eleanor Magruder, Louise Entwisle Growoll, Hamilton Bradshaw, Farnsworth Collins, Mary Brooks, Manly C.
Beebe, Max Beebe, Chauncey McLean Gilbert, Helen Searle, Malvina M. Wentworth, Hannah Goodman, Jane M.
Kerr, Eugene Hammond, Florence M. King, Ruth Wilson, Grace M. Fernald, Willie Graves, Ada Claire Darby,
Helen C. Bonney, Ernest A. Haskell, Juliette G. Hollenback, Alice Price, Helen M. Stanley, Anna B. Eisenhower,
Beulah Battin Shelley, Mary B. McNeily, Louise Morgan Simpson, Marian Kinney, Bessie Davis, Wilhelmina E.
Hess, Junius Browne, Grace L. Van B. Gray, Edith M. Schenck, Clarence King, Willie Oberne, Wm. D. Hart, Ida
Gardner, Ethel York, Laura Hickox, Isabel Wallace, Louise La Barre, Sue Leonard, Julia A. Swartz, Albert W.
Morford, Laura O'Brien, Bessie A. Ayer, Lulie H. Stevenson, Joseph Cantwell, Waldron M. Ward, Kate Wall, Caro-
line G. Towles, Hannah Virginia Noyes, Roberta L. Lewis, Julia Benner Thomas, Abbie F. Williams, Edith K.
Hill, Clara King, Anthony Hunt, Kate Paddock, Cora Keplinger, Horace S. Merrill, Mabel Haddock, Fauntleroy
Barnes, Elsa C. Drew, Katherine T. Greene, Leopold Bermann, Ralph Bevan, Susie Thompson, Blanche Millard,
Edna Schoyer, Bertha H. Lippincott, Mary C. Smith, Helen M. Ingham, Mary Lacy, Orville T. Waring, James
Hassler, Philip B. Loomis, Florence H. Watson, Harriet W. Johnson, Margaret Eshbaugh, Elizabeth G. Torrey,
Edwin H. Abbot, Lydia H. Kirk, Henrietta F. Thacher, Lillian O. Fort, Katherine H. Ross, Abbot A. Thayer,
Agnes Downer, Willie A. Nichols, Grace E. Taber, Edith Merry, Gertrude Robinson, Nora Pettit, Mollie Kil-
lough, Ruth Lawrence, Thomas H. Tulloch, Raymond A. Fuller, Jessie Kauffman, Helen Ford, Lucy Coles
Garrett, Agnes H. Rider, Margaret Bennitt Horsfield, Rose Bell Goldman, Maude L. Watters, Mary C. Belknap,
Annie Love Dowdell, Edna Warren Mason, Irene Lacy, Ona C. Gibson, Jennie Fones, Ruth Baker, Angie Marke,
W. DeWitt Manning, Helen 0. Koerper, Cicily Leech, James Parks, Jr., Glenn B. Houghton, Karl Baumgarten,
Tracy Smelzer, William C. Thayer, Charles F. Thompson, Lucy P. Hall, Alfred and Margaret Hincks, Helen
Weinman, James Morgan Clarke, Conklin Mann, E. B. Lyman, Cleora C. Wheeler, Mary R. Cecil, Raymond
Spellman, John R. Post, Stanley Bachelder, Florence Darling, Joe E. Kellogg, Annie I. Williams, Hermann Hage-
dorn, Jr., J. G. Stubbs, Ethel E. Tulloch, Ray Seaman, Anita Willets, Norman L. Newhall, Bessie M. Jelliffe,
Florence Goldschmidt, Sara Ross, Charlotte J. Baumann, Bessie D. Buell, Chas. H. Dayton, Anna L. Oathout,
Frederica Cronyn, Ellen W. Bowman, Evelyn Quintard Jackson, Edwin LeGrand Woodhams, Zola Miller, Ger-
trude N. Crane, Worthington Bonner, C. Herrick Hammond, Laura Kennish, Faith E. Lyman, Ethel Quinlan,
Sarah G. Pomeroy, Frank G. Sulloway, Louise R. Morris, Eleanor Parmelee, Henry Iverson, Edith Huntington,
Fred C. Keffer, Minnie P. Flack, John H. Bowman, Hilda A. Weber, Wallace J. Young, Sophia Miller, Clara E.
Clarke, Ethel Watson, T. Arthur Davis, Ralph W. Westcott, Sarah E. Lovell, Irvine Stiles, Augusta W. Marge-
dant, Harriet Walsh, Helen Hollenbeck, John Walbridge, Helen E. Allis, Abbie Newton, Frederick S. Sturges,
Jessie L. Pointer, Meta Kemble Jackson, Bessie R. Trowbridge, Boyd Marshall, M. Edith Briggs, Alma Block,
Maxwell Evarts Bessell, Blanche Johnson, Sarah L. Bates, B. J. Ostrander, Henry N. Frear, Lucie Armstrong,
Anna L. Curtis, Wm. Jerome Wilson, May Smoak, Charles A. Ludlow, Leigh Penniman, Mary Edith Dean,
Hubert W. Eldred, Kate Burlock, Bernice Catlin.



Two pages of the Letter-Box have been crowded
out this month by the Report on the Prize Puzzle; but
there will be three pages, as usual, in the November
number, and the full names of our young correspondents
will hereafter be printed with their letters.

MANY of our readers no doubt remember with pleas-
ure the article entitled Two School-houses and a Ship-
wreck," printed in ST. NICHOLAS for September, 1894,
and telling how an American vessel on her way to Japan
was shipwrecked near an island called Tanega-shima,
and the survivors were cared for by the kindly residents
of two villages of that island, afterward being sent to the
American consul at Kob6, who procured them a passage
home to America. The United States government ap-
propriated five thousand dollars to be sent to the Japan-
ese who had befriended the shipwrecked mariners, and
this money was used to establish schools for the Japan-
ese children of the rescuers. An account of the event
was inscribed upon stone tablets, and these were set up
in the yards of -the two village schools provided for by
the money voted to the Japanese fisherman. Mr. H. F.
Cutter, author of the paper, in a recent letter writes as
"It may interest you to learn that my article in ST.
NICHOLAS for September, 1894, on 'Two School-houses'
of Tanega-shima and the monument, has been trans-
lated into the Japanese language, and published in To-
kio, Osaki, and Nagasaki; also that I sent through our
minister, Mr. Dun, to Viscount Mutsu, the Minister of
Foreign Affairs at Tokio, a copy of ST. NICHOLAS for
the scholars of each of the schools of Tanega-shima.
These were duly forwarded to the good islanders by Vis-
count Mutsu, who expressed much gratification on the

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for nearly
four years, and I have in book form many of the serials
that were published in you before I began to take you,
and I find that my favorite books first came out in you.
I am the only girl in the family. I have a brother nine
years old, and I am fourteen. I always take great pleas-
ure in reading "The Letter-Box."
We live quite a distance out of town in a picturesque
old house which was here before the Civil War. It has
a large orchard with a brook running through it, and in
the brook we find many pretty little shells. Once I
found what looked like a petrified frog.
In the spring the mountains here are full of wild flow-
ers, and we take long walks to gather them. Later on
there are all sorts of berries, and the poor people pick
large bucketsful and bring them to town to sell.
I have two beautiful cats, one white and one gray, of

which I am very fond. I have also some ants, which live
in a large, wide-mouthed bottle, as contentedly as when
they were free. My brother John has a tame terrapin,
which he found; but as we do not know what to feed it,
we have to let it go now and then, and take the chance of
finding it again.
John was much interested in the letter of the boy who
told how to make shinneys, and he and his bosom friend
are trying to make some, though rather unsuccessfully.
Thanking you gratefully for the many happy hours
you have given me, and joining with many other boys
and girls in wishing you prosperity and long life,
Your faithful friend and reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Formerly we lived in Ohio,
but we moved down here two years ago on a very large
peach plantation, and we have a large crop this year.
I have a number of pets.
We took a day's ride on the Ocmulgee river not long
ago. I saw two alligators, some wild ducks, and a blue
crane or heron, I believe like the one Lady Jane had.
Success to ST. NICHOLAS !
Your devoted reader, ELSIE G. W -

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I just got you to-day, and I
read "A Story of Admiral Farragut," which very much
interested me, as my grandfather, Admiral Craven, was
in command of the sloop-of-war Brooklyn," which led
the expedition to Vicksburg. The Hartford" was a
frigate, and not a sloop-of-war, as is stated in the narra-
tive. The Mississippi" was not in the fleet, but the
Brooklyn was.
My papa was in the mortar-fleet which came after.
Every one of our family has been in the navy since
Commodore Truxton, who was in the Revolution.
I am the editor-in-chief of a little paper. No one con-
tributes who is over sixteen years old.
I like ST. NICHOLAS very much. We have taken it
ever since No. I, but I have only read it since I was
eight years old.
From your constant reader and admirer,
OUR young critic will find on more careful investiga-
tion that the statements in the article about Admiral
Farragut are correct as they were printed.

WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received: Alice M. Smith, Frances Alice
Cramp, Rufus Ready, Lacie, Elsie and Tillie, Robert
B., Lillie Staubach, Estelle Stephens, Mary R. Buck-
nell, Gertrude Teschan, Margaret H., Anne Neland,
Edith Mackey, Walter Dreyfus, Mattie F. Morris, Ralph
Garretson, Earle Strong, Frank D. T., E. M. N., Eva
A. B., Ruth E. Crocker, Emma Gibbons, Rebie P. Ha-
mer, Margaret C. S., Hildegard L., Jeannette Powers,
Nannie and Alice, Marie A. Hammond, Margaret D.

HOUR-GLASS. Emerson. Cross-words: I. Science. 2. Named. A BOAT RIDDLE. I. Ice-boat. 2. Steam-boat. 3. Cat-boat. 4.
3. Her. 4. R. 5. Ask. 6. Crown. 7. Earnest. Sail-boat. 5. Flat-boat. 6. Gunboat. 7. Gravy-boat. 8. Life
COMBINATION PUZZLE. Primals, Bacon. Cross-words : i. Backs. boat. 9. Row-boat. to. Pilot-boat. ir. Canal-boat. 12. Tow-
2. Abate. 3. Carat. 4. Otary. 5. Natal. boat.
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Centrals, Nelson. Cross-words: i. Cun-
ning. 2. Essence. 3. Trellis. 4. Session. 5. Colonel. 6. Sin. A FLEET OF SHIPS. I. Santa Maria. 2. Christopher Columbus.
ners. 3. Pinta. -4. Nina. 5. Ark. 6. Argo. 7. Bucentaur. 8. Mar-
WORD-SQUARES. I. Lily. 2. Idea. 3. Lear. 4. Yard. II. tin Harpertzoon Tromp. 9. Oliver Hazard Perry. oo. Lawrence.
x. Goat. 2. Otto. 3. Atom. 4. Tome. Ii. Horatio Nelson. 12. Victory. 13. Ferdinand Magellan. 14.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Valkyrie. .Finals, Defender. Henry Hudson. 15. Half Moon. I6. Sir Francis Drake. 17.
Cross-words: i. Void. 2. Able. 3. Loaf. 4. Knee. 5. Yarn. Golden Hind. 18. Monitor. 19. Great Eastern. 20. America. 2.
6. Raid. 7. Idle. 8. Ever. Fram. 22. Lucania. 23. Union.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the s5th 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 xsth, from "Tod and Yam" -" Buffalo Quartette"
-L. O. E.-W. L. -"Dondy Small "- "Jersey Quartette"- "Itye" Midwood" -Josephine Sherwood -Joe and I-" Chid-
dingstone" Ethelberta Naum-ke-ag" Ruth Worthington Bowie -" Pro and Con "- Grace Edith Thallon -Nessie and Freddie.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER were received, before July i5th, from L. H. Smith, i Owney," i E. Goldstein, I
-Adele B., I P. Darrow, i E. A. Pinto, x -J. C. Mendenhall, x-J. B. and M. M., 2 K. Huey, 2 S. B. Limer, i -" M. Tul-
liver," 5- G. B. Dyer, zx F. Edgar, Ruth H., I- Mac Phillips, i- H. A. R., io J. Schoenthal, i -J. O'D. Rennie, 5 Win.
K. Dart, r Irving and Mamma, 9 Marion J. Homans, 9- Effie K. Talboys, 9- "Owl's Nest Club," 9- "Brynhild," M. A.
Hobbs, 3--J. Sharot, i C. D. Lauer and Co., ai Mabel Wilitts and Marie Ruget, 9 Mary K. Rake, 2- Paul Reese, ro -
Franklyn A. Farnsworth, ix -Ralph C. Jack, Wm. A. Lochren, 8- May and 79," Cloyd Hines, 5- Van Neste, 6-N. V. S.,
3- Laura M. Zinser, 6 "Two Little Brothers," zo--Marguerite Sturdy, 8 -Norah Moyer, 4 "Brownie Band," 7 W. Y. W.,9 -
Sigourey Fay Nininger, xz Mary B. Keefer, 3- Warren B. Blake, x W. E. F. F. Co., 7 Elsie Grey, 4 Olive Oburn, 7-- Ken-
yon Y. Taylor and Marjory Gane, ro -Daniel Hardini and Co., 6- Belle A. Goldman, 1o- Merry and Co.," 7- No name, Milwau-
kee, 6 "Woodside Folks," 4 "The Butterflies," 7 M. Connor, a.

A BUDGET OF BOXES. 6. Divide a city of the United States into scrubbing
and a weight.
-7. Divide a city of Spain into angry and to free.
8. Divide a city of Italy into part of a chair and a wind
9. Divide a city of Arabia into confusion and a small
Io. Divide a city of Persia into a giggle and hastened.
S" II. Divide a city of Guiana into two letters of the al-
(Fourteen kinds of boxes are suggested iy the following 12. Divide a city of Hindostan into a ravine and ele-
e en k s o bes ae vated. NUNNY."

Here 's a great pile of boxes of every kind;
The first one you may in the alphabet find;
The second to guess you must delve in a mine;
The third makes you sneeze, be it ever so fine;
The doctors will give you the fourth, if you 're ill;
The fifth splutters terribly, do what you will;
Jolly darkies, with airs, for the sixth often walk;
You, yourself, are the seventh, when too much you talk;
A crowd of musicians the eighth join to make;
The ninth, when indoors, from your head you must take;
When the cook makes mince-pies, she tenth must not
When near the eleventh you come, have a care;
The twelfth oft is precious, is sparkling, is bright;
And to the thirteenth listen all with delight;
The last you will need just as long as you live;
And right clever you are when these answers you give.
J. S.
EXAMPLE: Divide a city of Ireland into a metallic in-
strument and quick. Answer, Bel-fast.
I. Divide a city of Russia into a curved line and a
celestial being.
2. Divide a city of England into an important organ
and a small lake.
3. Divide a city of Germany into a kind of salted meat
and a town.
4. Divide a city of China into a metal vessel and a
5. Divide a city of India into a pronoun and inflamed.


I. A LETTER. 2. Skill. 3. A missile weapon of offense.
4. Journeys. 5. To squeeze hard. 6. To trap. 7. Mag-
nificent. 8. To follow. 9. A dolt. Io. Striking effect.
ii. Consumed. 12. To titter. 13. Urgent wants. 14. A
decree. 15. To frighten. 16. An appointment to meet.
17. A suffix. 18. A letter. EUGENE WALTER.



I. To blaze. 2. A vagabond. 3. An ancient astro-
nomical instrument. 4. An old word meaning "retinue."
5. The Christian name of the heroine of "The Lady of
the Lake." E. W. W.

REARRANGE each of the following groups of syllables
so as to form a familiar quotation:
T. Ed, mer, ty, of, i, not, cy, qual, strain, the, is.
II. Years, Ca, bet, Eu, cy, of, ty, fif, rope, cle, ter,
thay, than, a, of. F. V.


mans. 6. To make a sharp, shrill sound. 7. A famous
Italian astronomer. 8. Without an object. 9. A coun-
try of Europe. so. The choice of taking or refusing.
II. A married man. 12. Things which excite surprise.
13. A masculine name. 14. Pertaining to Greece. 15.
Plots. 16. One who learns of a teacher. 17. A day
of amusement and gaiety. 18. One of the planets. 19.


IN dewy fields on summer morns
The farmer's men go to and fro
About their work; and they my first
With steady motion, strong and slow.

Far off above the tossing waves,
My second circles in the air;
Or, weary, sinks upon the sea
To float and rest in safety there.

My whole is but a memory now,
But, in the days that are no more,
His word was law, in India great,
From mount to sea, from shore to shore.

ALL the words described contain the same number of
letters. When rightly guessed and placed one below an-
other, the central letters will spell the name of a country
lying about Mount Ararat.
CROSSWORDS: I. Aplay. 2. To form by heating and
hammering. 3. A fruit. 4. A word often used by bi-
cyclers. 5. Droll. 6. A useful tool. 7. Something used
in every dining-room. PAUL PAESCHKE.


* *
* *
* 0 *
* x*00

WHEN the eight objects in the above illustration have
been rightly guessed, and the names (which are of un-
equal length) written one below the other,. the final
letters will spell the name of a famous scientist.
ALL of the words described contain the same number
of letters. When these are rightly guessed, and placed
one below another, in the order here given, the zigzag,
beginning at the upper left-hand letter, will spell the
name of a famous brazen statue of Apollo.
CROSS-WORDS: 1. One of the epistles of the New
Testament. 2. In that direction. 3. The second name
of a famous Empress of Austria. 4. A gas-fixture or
lamp-holder projecting from the face of a wall. 5. Ger-

I. UPPER DIAMOND: I. In observant. 2. Yes. 3.
A passageway. 4. Bivalves. 5. A French word mean-
ing a "pupil." 6. Before. 7. In observant.
II. LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In observant. 2.
Touched. 3. Blithe. 4. Small fruit. 5. Endeavors.
6. Yea. 7. In observant.
III. CENTRAL SQUARE: I. An aromatic herb. 2.
Cognizant. 3. A group of islands in the Pacific. 4. An
old word meaning "irascible." 5. A thong of leather.
IV. RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In observant. 2.
Skill. 3. A warning of danger. 4. An Arab. 5. A
union of three. 6. Angry. 7. In observant.
V. LOWER DIAMOND: I. In observant. 2. One of
a certain tribe of Indians. 3. Extreme. 4. To draw.
5. To efface. 6. A unit. 7. In observant.



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