• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Master Skylark
 A delectable land (from a boy's...
 The timorous trimble
 How plants spread
 Bob's way
 June's garden
 A race for a girdle
 How the bad news came to Siber...
 The last three soldiers
 The labors of Hercules
 The plimsoll mark
 A love song: to John
 The bicycle race
 A wonder-worker
 "Nancy"
 An old-time thanksgiving
 Ye minstrel and ye mayde
 The true story of Marco Polo
 The lions tour
 The king's castle in no man's...
 Changing days
 A thanksgiving-day problem
 The rhyme of Ten Little Rabbit...
 The curiosity-shop
 The letter-box
 The riddle box
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00318
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00318
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
    Frontispiece
        Page 2
    Master Skylark
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    A delectable land (from a boy's point of view)
        Page 14
    The timorous trimble
        Page 15
    How plants spread
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Bob's way
        Page 21
    June's garden
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    A race for a girdle
        Page 27
        Page 28
    How the bad news came to Siberia
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
    The last three soldiers
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
    The labors of Hercules
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
    The plimsoll mark
        Page 45
        Page 46
    A love song: to John
        Page 47
    The bicycle race
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
    A wonder-worker
        Page 54
        Page 55
    "Nancy"
        Page 56
        Page 57
    An old-time thanksgiving
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    Ye minstrel and ye mayde
        Page 64
    The true story of Marco Polo
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
    The lions tour
        Page 68
        Page 69
    The king's castle in no man's land
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
    Changing days
        Page 77
    A thanksgiving-day problem
        Page 78
        Page 79
    The rhyme of Ten Little Rabbits
        Page 80
        Page 81
    The curiosity-shop
        Page 82
        Page 83
    The letter-box
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    The riddle box
        Page 87
        Page 88
    Back Matter
        Page 90
    Back Cover
        Page 91
        Page 92
    Spine
        Page 93
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OWNED BY ROBERT GOELET.

PORTRAIT OF MISS BEATRICE GOELET.
(SEE PAGE 84.)


BY JOHN S. SARGENT.


ENGRAVED BY H. WOLF.




















ST. NICHOLAS.


NOVEMBER, 1896.



MASTER SKYLARK.

By JOHN BENNETT.


CHAPTER I.

THE LORD ADMIRAL'S PLAYERS.
THERE was an unwonted buzzing in the east
end of Stratford on that next to the last day of
April, 1596. It was as if some one had thrust
a stick into a hive of bees and they had come
whirling out to see.
The low stone guard-wall of old Clopton
bridge, built a hundred years before by rich Sir
Hugh, sometime Mayor of London, was lined
with straddling boys like strawberries upon a
spear of grass, and along the low causeway from
the west across the lowland to the town, brown-
faced, barefoot youngsters sat beside the road-
way with their chubby legs a-dangle down the
mossy stones, staring away into the south across
the grassy levels of the valley of the Stour.
Punts were poling slowly up the Avon to the
bridge; and at the outlets of the town where
the streets came down to the' waterside among
the weeds, little knots of men and serving-
maids stood looking into the south and listening.
Some had waited for an hour; some for two:
yet still there was no sound but the piping of
the birds in white-thorn hedges, the hollow low-
ing of kine knee-deep in grassy meadows, and


the long rush of the river through the sedge be-
side the pebbly shore; and naught to see but
quiet valleys, primrose lanes, and Warwick or-
chards white with bloom, stretching away to the
misty hills.
But still they stood and looked and listened.
The wind came stealing up out of the south,
soft and warm and sweet and still, moving the
ripples upon the river with gray gusts; and,
scudding free before the wind, a dog came trot-
ting up the road with wet pink tongue and side-
long gait. At the throat of Clopton bridge he
stopped and scanned the way with dubious eye;
then clapped his tail between his legs and
bolted for the town. The laughing shout that
followed him into the Warwick road seemed
not to die away, but to linger in the air like the
drowsy hum of bees-a hum that came and
went at intervals upon the shifting wind, and
grew by little, taking body till it came un-
broken as a long, low, distance-muffled murmur
from the south, so faint as scarcely to be heard.
Nick Attwood pricked his keen young ears:
They 're coming, Robin hark 'e to the
trampling! "
Robin Getley held his breath and turned his
ear toward the south. The far-off murmur was


Copyright, 1896, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.
3


VOL. XXIV.


No. I.







MASTER SKYLARK.


a mutter now, defined and positive, and, as the
two friends listened, grew into a drumming roll,
and all at once above it came a shrill, high
sound like the buzzing of a gnat close by the
ear
Little Tom Davenant
drLo'ppc': fr:'m ri th ing-r-
p'-:t, nd.l c.,ine r rLIn|irnl'L q'


"PUNTS WERE POLING SLOWLY UP THE AVON TO THE BRIDGE."


up from the fork of the Banbury road, his feet
making little white puffs in the dust as he
flew. "They are coming--they are coming! "
he shrieked as he ran.
Then up to his feet sprang Robin Getley,
upon the saddle-backed coping-stones, his hand
upon Nick Attwood's head to steady himself,


and looked away where the rippling Stour ran
like a thread of silver beside the dust-buff Lon-
don road, and the little church of Atherstone
stood blue against the rolling Cotswold hills.
"They are coming-they are coming!"
shrilled little Tom, and scrambled up the coping
like a squirrel up a rail.


/
^/^


1r


[Nov.






MASTER SKYLARK.


N color amid the April green, a clear, shrill trum-
pet blew and blew again.
j: 7..,.:.---', "They are coming!" shouted Robin,-"they
are coming! and, turning, waved his cap.
A shout went up along the bridge. Those
i down below came clambering up, the punts
r came poling with a rush of foam, and a rip-
S' ."& ---.- ple ran along the edge of Stratford town like
,', the wind through a field of wheat. Windows
i' creaked and doors swung wide, and the work-
"' men stopped in the garden-plots to lean upon
..,' their mattocks and to look.
Si '''' "They are coming !" bellowed Rafe Hicka-
*-' thrift, the butcher's boy, standing far out in the
1 street with his red hands to his mouth for a
''' ''.' trumpet-" they are coming!" and at that the
4 doors of Bridge street grew alive with eager
eyes.
1,. -" At early dawn the Oxford carrier had brought
Sthe news that the players of the Lord High
.' -- -i Admiral were coming up to Stratford out of
'- .1

7 /' ,.. -~
,/ I ,1


LITTLE TOM DAVENANT DROPPED FROM THE FINGER-POST, .
AND CAME RUNNING UP FROM THE FORK OF
THE BANBURY ROAD."
A stir ran out along the guard-wall; some
crying out, some starting up. "Sit down, sit
down! cried others, peering askance at the E,
water gurgling green down below. "Sit down,
or we shall all be off! "
Robin held his hand above his eyes. A ,
cloud of dust was rising from the London road A
and drifting off across the fields like smoke when i
the old ricks burn in damp weather-a long, 'i
broad-sheeted mist; and in it were bits of mov- -
ing gold, shreds of bright colors vaguely seen,-
and silvery gleams like the glitter of polished
metal in the sun. And as he looked the shifty -
wind came down out of the west again and t
whirled the cloud of dust away; and there he
saw a long line of men upon horses coming at
an easy canter up the highway. Just as he had
made this out the line came rattling to a stop,
the distant drumming of hoofs was still, and as
the long file knotted itself into a rosette of ruddy 'THEY ARE COMING !' BELLOWED THE BUTCHER'S BOY."






MASTER SKYLARK.


London from the south, to play on May-day
there; and this was what had set the town to
buzzing like a swarm. For there were in Eng-
land then but three great companies, the High
Chamberlain's, the Earl of Pembroke's men,
and the stage-players of my Lord Charles
Howard, High Admiral of the Realm: and the
day on which they came into a Midland mar-
ket-town to play was one to mark with red and
gold upon the calendar of the uneventful year.
Away by the old mill-bridge there were fish-
ermen angling for dace and perch; but when
the shout came down from the London road
they dropped their poles and ran, through the
willows and over the gravel, splashing and
thrashing among the rushes and sandy shallows
not to be last when the players came. And old
John Carter, coming down the Warwick road
with a load of hay, laid on the lash until pie-
bald Dobbin snorted in dismay and broke into
a lumbering run to reach the old stone bridge
in time.
The distant horsemen now were coming on
again, riding in double file. They had flung
their banners to the breeze, and on the chang-
ing wind, with the thumping of horses' hoofs,
came by snatches the sound of a kettledrummer
drawing his drumhead tight, and beating as
he drew, and the muffled blasts of a trumpeter
proving his lips.
Fynes Morrison and Walter Stirley, who
had gone to Cowslip lane to meet the march,
were running on ahead, and shouting as they
ran: There 's forty men, and sumpter mules!
And, oh, the bravest banners and attire and
the trumpets are a cloth-yard long! Make
room for us, make room for us, and let us up "
A bowshot off, the trumpets blew a blast so
high, so clear, so keen, that it seemed a flame
of fire in the air, and as the brassy fanfare died
away across the roofs of the quiet town, the
kettledrums clanged, the cymbals clashed, and
all the company began to sing the famous old
song of the hunt:

The hunt is up, the hunt is up,
Sing merrily we, the hunt is up!
The wild birds sing,
The dun deer fling,
The forest aisles with music ring!
Tantara, tantara, tantara!


Then ride along, ride along,
Stout and strong!
Farewell to grief and care;
With a rollicking cheer
For the high dun deer
And a life in the open air !
Tantara, the hunt is up, lads!
Tantara, the bugles bray!
Tantara, tantara, tantara,
Hio, harkaway!

The first of the riders had reached old Clop-
ton bridge; and the banners strained upon
their staves in the freshening river-wind. The
trumpeters and he drummers led, their horses
prancing, white plumes waving in the breeze,
and the April sunlight dancing on the brazen
horns and the silver bellies of the kettledrums.
Then came the banners of the company, curl-
ing down with a silky swish, and unfurling
again with a snap like a broad-lashed whip.
The greatest one was rosy-red, and on it was a
gallant ship upon a flowing sea, bearing upon
its mainsail the arms of my Lord Charles How-
ard, High Admiral of England. Upon its
mate was a giant bearded man with a fish's
tail, holding a trident in his hand and blowing
upon a shell, the Triton of the seas which Eng-
land ruled; this flag was bright sea-blue. The
third was white, and on it was a red wild rose
with a golden heart, the common standard
of the company.
After the flags came two-score men, the
players of the Admiral, the tiring-men, grooms,
horse-boys and serving-knaves, well mounted
on good horses, and all of them clad in scarlet
tabards blazoned with the coat-armor of their
master. Upon their caps they wore the fa-
mous badge of the Howards, a rampant silver
demi-lion; and beneath their tabards at the
side could be seen their jerkins of many-col-
ored silk, their silver-buckled belts, and long,
thin Spanish rapiers, slapping their horses on
the flanks at every stride. Their legs were
cased in high-topped riding-boots of tawny
cordovan, with gilt spurs, and the housings
of their saddles were of blue with the gilt an-
chors of the admiralty upon then. On their
bridles were jingling bits of steel, which made
a constant tinkling like a thousand little bells
very far away.
Some had faces smooth as boys, and were



























' 1' 4,


'~~c a


i W


i


/


THE LORD ADMIRAL'S PLAYERS. "THE TRUMPETERS AND THE DRUMMERS LED, THEIR HORSES PRANCING, WHITE PLUMES
WAVING IN THE BREEZE."
7






MASTER SKYLARK.


quite young; and others wore sharp-pointed
beards with stiff-waxed mustaches, and were
older men with a tinge of iron in their hair,
and lines of iron in their faces, hardened by
the life they led; and some again were smooth-
shaven, so often and so closely that their faces
were blue with the beard beneath the skin.
But, oh, to Nicholas Attwood and the rest
of Stratford boys, they were a dashing, rakish,
admirable lot, with the air of something even
greater than lords, and a keen knowingness
in their sparkling, worldly eyes that made a
common wise man seem almost a fool beside
them!
And so they came riding up out of the
south:
Then ride along, ride along,
Stout and strong!
Farewell to grief and care;
With a rollicking cheer
For the high dun deer
And a life in the open air!

"Hurrah, hurrah! God save the Queen!"
A dropping shout went up the street like an
arrow-flight scattering over the throng; and
the players, waving their scarlet caps until the
long line tossed like a poppy-garden in a
summer rain, gave a cheer that fairly set the
crockery to dancing upon the shelves of the
stalls in Middle Row.
"Hurrah!" shouted Nicholas Attwood, his
blue eyes shining with delight. "Hurrah,
hurrah! for the Admiral's men!" And high.
in the air he threw his cap, as a wild cheer
broke from the eddying crowd, and the arches
of the long gray bridge rang hollow with the
tread of hoofs. Whiff, came the wind; down
dropped the hat upon the very saddle-peak
of one tall fellow riding along among the rest.
Catching it quickly as it fell, he laughed and
tossed it back; and when Nick caught it whirl-
ing in the air, a shilling jingled from it to the
ground.
Then up Fore Bridge street they all trooped
after, intd Stratford town.
Oh," cried Robin, "it is brave, brave !"
"Brave? cried Nick. It makes my very
heart jump. And see, Robin, 't is a shilling, a
real silver shilling--oh, what fellows they all
be! Hurrah for the Lord High Admiral's men!"


CHAPTER II.

NICHOLAS ATTWOOD'S HOME.
NICK ATTWOOD'S father came home that
night bitterly wroth.
The burgesses of the town council had or-
dered him to build a chimney upon his house,
or pay ten shillings fine; and shillings were
none too plenty with Simon Attwood, the tan-
ner of Old Town.
Soul and body o' man!" said he, "they
talk as if they owned the world, and a man
could na live upon it save by their leave. I
must build my fire in a pipe, or pay ten shillings
fine ? Things ha' come to a pretty pass -a
pretty pass, indeed!" He kicked the rushes
that were strewn upon the floor, and ground
the clay with his heel. "This litter will ha' to
be all took out. Atkins will be here at six i'
the morning to do the job; and a lovely mess
he will make o' the house!"
Do na fret thee, Simon," said Mistress Att-
wood gently. The rushes need a changing,
and I ha' pined this long while to lay the floor
wi' new clay from Shottery common. 'T is the
sweetest earth! Nick shall take the hangings
down, and right things up when the chimley 's
done."
So at cockcrow next morning Nick slipped
out of his straw bed, into his clothes, and down
the winding stair, while his parents were still
asleep in the loft; and, sousing his head in the
bucket at the well, began his wvork before the old
town clock in the chapel tower had yet struck
four.
The rushes had not been changed since
Easter, and were full of dust and grease from
the cooking and the table. Even the fresher
sprigs of mint among them smelled stale and
old. When they were all in the barrow, Nick
sighed with relief, and wiped his hands upon
the dripping grass.
It had rained in the night--a soft, warm
rain, and the air was full of the smell of the
apple-bloom and pear from the little orchard
behind the house. The bees were already
humming about the straw-bound hives along
the garden wall, and a misguided green wood-
pecker clung upside down to the eaves, and
thumped at the beams of the house.






MASTER SKYLARK.


It was very still there in the gray of the
dawn. He could hear the rush of the water
through the sedge in the mill-race; and then,
all at once, the roll of the wheel, the low rum-
ble of the mill-gear, and the cool whisper of
the wind in the willows.
When he went back into the house again the
painted cloths upon the wall seemed dingier
than ever compared with the clean, bright
world outside. The sky-blue coat of the Prod-
igal Son was brown with the winter's smoke;
the Red Sea towered above Pharaoh's ill-
starred host like an inky mountain; and the
homely maxims on the next breadth -" Do
no Wrong," "Beware of Sloth," "Overcome
Pride," and "Keep an Eye on the Pence"-
could scarcely be i ead.
Nick jumped up on the three-legged stool
and began to take them down. The nails
were crooked and jammed in the wall, and the
last came out with an unexpected jerk. Losing
his balance, Nick caught at the table-board
which leaned against the wall, but the stool
capsized and he came down on the floor with
such a flap of tapestry.that the ashes flew out
all over the room.
He sat up dazed, and rubbed his elbows;
then looked around, and began to laugh.
He could hear heavy footsteps overhead. A
door opened, and his father's voice called sternly
from the head of the stair: "What madcap
folly art thou up to now? "
"I be up to no folly at all," said Nick, "but
down, sir. I fell from the stool. There 's no
harm done."
Then be about thy business," said Attwood,
coming slowly down the stairs.
He was a gaunt man, smelling of leather and
untanned hides. His short iron-gray hair grew
low down upon his forehead, and his hooked
nose, grim wide mouth, and heavy under jaw
gave him a look at once forbidding and severe.
His doublet of serge and his fustian hose were
stained with liquor from the vats, and his eyes
were heavy with sleep.
The smile faded from Nick's face. "Shall I
throw the rushes into the street, sir? "
Nay; take them to the muck-hill. The
burgesses ha' made a great to-do about folk
throwing trash into the highways. Soul and
VOL. XXIV.-2.


body o' man!" he growled, "a man must ask
if he may breathe. And good hides going
a-begging, too!"
Nick hurried away, for he dreaded his father's
sullen moods.
The swine were squealing in their styes, the
cattle bawled about the straw-thatched barns in
Chapel lane, and long files of gabbling ducks
waddled hurriedly down to the river through
the primroses under the hedge. He could hear
the milkmaids calling in the meadows; and
when he trundled slowly home the smoke was
creeping up in pale-blue threads from the
draught-holes in the wall.
The tanner's house stdod a little back from
the thoroughfare, in that part of Stratford-on-
Avon where the south end of Church street
turns from Bull lane toward the river. It was
roughly built of timber and plaster, the black
beams showing through the yellow lime in cu-
rious squares and triangles. The roof was of
red tiles; and where the spreading elms leaned
over it the peaked gable was green with moss.
At the side of the house was a garden of let-
tuce; beyond the garden a rough wall on which
the grass was growing. Sometimes wild prim-
roses grew on top of this wall, and once a yel-
low daffodil. Beyond the wall were other gar-
dens owned by thrifty neighbors, and open lands
in common to them all, where foot-paths wan-
dered here and there in a free, haphazard way.
Behind the house was a well and a wood-
pile, and along the lane ran a whitewashed
paling fence with a little gate, from which the
path went up to the door through rows of
bright, old-fashioned flowers.
Nick's mother was getting the breakfast.
She was a gentle woman with a sweet, kind
face, and a little air of quiet dignity that made
her doubly dear to Nick by contrast with his
father's unkempt ways. He used to think that,
in her worsted gown, with its falling collar of
Antwerp linen, and a soft, silken coif upon her
fading hair, she was the most beautiful woman
in all the world.
She put one arm about his shoulders, brushed
back his curly hair, and kissed him on the fore-
head.
"Thou art mine own good little son," said
she tenderly, "and I will bake thee a cake in






MASTER SKYLARK.


the new chimley on the morrow for thy May-
day feast."
Then she helped him fetch the trestles from
the buttery, set the board, spread the cloth, and
lay the wooden platters, pewter cups, and old
horn spoons in place. Breakfast being ready,
she then called his father from the yard. Nick
waited deftly upon them both, so that they were
soon done with the simple meal of rye-bread,
lettuce, cheese, and milk.
As he carried away the empty platters and
brought water and a towel for them to wash
their hands, he said quietly, although his eyes
were bright and eager, "The Lord High Ad-
miral's company is tb act a stage-play at the
guildhall to-morrow before Master Davenant
the Mayor and the town burgesses."
Simon Attwood said nothing, but his brows
drew down.
"They came yestreen from London town by
Oxford way to play in Stratford and at Coven-
try; and are at the Swan Inn with Master
Geoffrey Inchbold-oh, ever so many of them,
in scarlet jerkins, and cloth of gold, and doub-
lets of silk laced up like any lord It is a very
good company, they say."
Mistress Attwood looked quickly at her hus-
band. What will they play ? she asked.
"I can na say, surely, mother-' Tambur-
lane,' perhaps, or The Troublesome Reign of
Old King John.' The play will be free, father--
may I go, sir? "
And lose thy time from school ?"
"There is no school to-morrow, sir."
"Then have ye naught to do that ye waste
the day in idle folly ? asked the tanner sternly.
"I will do my work beforehand, sir," replied
Nick quietly, though his hand trembled a little
as he brushed up the crumbs.
It is May-day, Simon," interceded Mistress
Attwood, "and a bit of pleasure will na harm
the lad."
Pleasure ? said the tanner sharply; if he
does na find pleasure enough in his work, his
book, and his home, he shall na seek it of low
rogues and strolling scapegraces."
But, Simon," said Mistress Attwood, "'t is
the Lord Admiral's own company-surely
they are not all graceless And," she contin-
ued with very quiet dignity, since mine own


cousin Anne Hathaway married Will Shakspere
the play-actor, 't is scarcely kind to call all
players rogues and low."
No more o' this, Margaret," cried Attwood,
flushing angrily. "Thou art ever too ready
with the boy's part against me. He shall na
go--I '11 find a thing or two for him to do
among the vats that will take this taste for idle-
ness out of his mouth. He shall na go : so that
be all there is on it." Rising abruptly, he left
the room.
Nick clenched his hands.
"Nicholas," said his mother softly.
"Yes, mother," said he; "I know. But he
should na flout thee so! And, mother, the
Queen goes to the play father himself saw her
at Coventry ten years ago. Is what the Queen
does idle folly ? "
His mother took him by the hand and drew
him to her side, with a smile that was half a
sigh: Art thou the Queen ? "
Nay," said he; and it 's all the better for
England, like enough. But surely, mother, it
can na be wrong "
"To honor thy father?" said she quickly,
laying her finger across his lips. Nay, lad, it
is thy bounden duty."
Nick turned and looked up at her wonder-
ingly. Mother," said he, art thou an angel
come down out of heaven ? "
"Nay," she answered, patting his flushed
cheek. I be only the every-day mother of a
fierce little son who hath many a hard, hard
lesson to learn. Now eat thy breakfast thou
hast been up a long while."
Nick kissed her impetuously and sat down;
but his heart still rankled within him.
All Stratford would go to the play. He
could hear the murmur of voices and music, the
bursts of laughter and applause, the tramp of
happy feet going up the guildhall stairs to the
mayor's show. Everybody went in free at the
mayor's show. The other boys could stand on
stools and see it all. They could hold horses at
the gate of the inn at the September fair, and
so see all the farces. They could see the fa-
mous Norwich puppet-play. But he what
pleasure did he ever have ? A tawdry pageant
by a lot of clumsy country bumpkins at Whit-
suntide or Pentecost, or a silly school-boy


[Nov.







MASTER SKYLARK.


masque at Christmas, with the master scolding
like a heathen Turk. It was not fair.
And now he 'd have to work all May-day.
May-day out of all the year Why, there was
to be a May-pole and a morris-dance, and a
roasted calf, too, in Master Wainwright's field,
since Margery was chosen Queen of the May.
And Peter Finch was to be Robin Hood, and
Nan Rogers Maid Marian, and wear a kirtle
of Kendal green -and oh, but the May-pole
would be brave: high as the ridge of the guild-
school roof, and hung with ribbons like a rain-
bow! Geoffrey Hall was to lead the dance,
too, and the other boys and girls would all be
there. And where would he be? Sousing
hides in the tannery vats. Truly his father was
a hard man i
He pushed the cheese away.

CHAPTER III.
THE LAST STRAW.
LITTLE John Summer had a new horn-book
that cost a silver penny. The handle was car-
ven and the horn was clear as honey. The
other little boys stood round about in speechless
envy, or murmured their A B C's and "ba be
bi's" along the chapel steps. The lower-form
boys were playing leap-frog past the alms-
house, and Geoffrey Gosse and the vicar's son
were in the public gravel-pit, throwing stones
at the robins in the Great House elms across
the lane.
Some fewdull fellows sat upon the steps behind
the school-house, anxiously poring over their
books. But the larger boys of the Fable Class
stood in an excited group beneath the shadow
of the overhanging second story of the gram-
mar-school, talking all at once, each louder
than the other, until the noise was deafening.
Oh, Nick such goings on I called Robin
Getley, whose father was a burgess, as Nick Att-
wood came slowly up the street, saying his sen-
tences for the day over and over to himself, in
hopeless desperation, having had no time to
learn them at home. "Stratford Council has
had a quarrel, and there 's to be no stage-play
after all."
"What ?" cried Nick, in amazement. "No
stage-play ? And why not?"


"Why," said Robin, it was just this way-
my father told me of it. Sir Thomas Lucy,
High Sheriff of Worcester, y' know, rode in
from Charlcote yesternoon, and with him Sir
Edward Greville of Milcote. So the burgesses
made a feast for them at the Swan Inn. Sir
Thomas fetched a fine, fat buck, and the town
stood good for ninepence wine and twopence
bread, and broached a keg of sturgeon. And
when they were all met together there, eating,
and drinking, and making merry-what ? Why.
in came my Lord Admiral's players from Lon-
don town, ruffling it like high dukes, and not
caring two pops for Sir Thomas, or Sir Edward,
or for Stratford burgesses all in a heap; but sat
them down at the table straightway, and called
for ale, as if they owned the place; and not be-
ing served as soon as they desired, they laid
hands upon Sir Thomas's server as he came in
from the buttery with his tray full, and took
both meat and drink."
"What? cried Nick.
"As sure as shooting, they did!" said Robin;
and when Sir Thomas's gentry yeomen would
have seen to it -what? Why, my Lord Ad-
miral's master-player clapped his hand to his
poniard-hilt, and dared them come and take it
if they could."
"To Sir Thoinas Lucy's men ? exclaimed
Nick, aghast.
"Ay, to their teeth! Sir Edward sprang up
then and said it was a shame for players to be-
have so outrageously in Will Shakspere's own
home town. And at that Sir Thomas, who, ye
know, has always misliked Will, flared up like
a bull at a red rag, and swore that all stage-
players be runagate rogues, anyway, and Will
Shakspere neither more nor less than a deer-
stealing scape-gallows."
Surely he did na say that in Stratford Coun-
cil?" protested Nick.
"Ay, but he did-that very thing," said Rob-
in; "and when that was out, the master-player
sprang upon the table, overturning half the ale,
and cried out that Will Shakspere was his very
own true friend, and the sweetest fellow in all
England; and that whosoever gainsaid it was a
hemp-cracking rascal, and that he would prove
it upon his back with a quarter-staff whenever
and wherever he chose, be he Sir Thomas Lucy,






MASTER SKYLARK.


St. George and the Dragon, Guy of Warwick,
and the great dun cow, all rolled up in one !"
"Robin Getley, is this the very truth, or art
thou cozening me ?"
Upon my word, it is the truth," said Robin.
"And that 's not all. Sir Edward cried out
'Fie!' upon the player for a saucy varlet; but the
fellow only laughed, and bowed quite low, and
said that he took no offense from Sir Edward for
saying that, since it could not honestly be de-
nied, but that Sir Thomas did not know the
truth from a truckle-bed in broad daylight, and
was but the remnant of a gentleman to boot."
"The bold-faced rogue!"
"Ay, that he is," nodded Robin; and for
his boldness Sir Thomas straightway demanded
that the High Bailiff refuse the company license
to play in Stratford."
"Refuse the Lord High Admiral's players ? "
"Marry, no one else. And then Master John
Shakspere, wroth at what Sir Thomas had said
of his son Will, vowed that he would send a
letter down to London town, and lay the whole
coil before the Lord High Admiral himself. For
ever since that he was high bailiff, the best com-
panies of England had always been bidden to
play in Stratford, and it would be an ill thing
now to refuse the Lord Admiral's company after
granting licenses to both my Lord Pembroke's
and the High Chamberlain's."
And so it would," spoke up Walter Roche;
"for there are our own townsmen, Richard and
Cuthbert Burbage, who are cousins of mine,
and John Hemynge and Thomas Greene, be-
sides Will Shakspere and his brother Edmund,
all playing in the Lord Chamberlain's company
in London before the Queen. It would be a
black score against them all with the Lord Ad-
miral- I doubt not he would pay them out."
Thac he would," said Robin, "and so said
my father and Alderman Henry Walker, who,
y' know, is Will Shakspere's own friend. And
some of the burgesses who cared not a rap for
that were afeard of offending the Lord Admiral.
But Sir Thomas vowed that my Lord Howard
was at Cadiz with Walter Raleigh and the
young Earl of Sussex, and would by no means
hear of it. So Master Bailiff Stubbes, who,
't is said, doth owe Sir Thomas forty pound, and
is therefore -nder his thumb, forthwith refused


the company license to play in Stratford guild-
hall, inn-yard, or common. And at that the
master-player threw his glove into Master
Stubbes's face, and called Sir Thomas a stupid
old bell-wether, and Stratford burgesses silly
sheep for following wherever he chose to jump."
"And so they be," sneered Hal Saddler.
"How? cried Robin hotly. "My father
is a burgess. Dost thou call him a sheep, Hal
Saddler?"
"Nay, nay," stammered Hal hastily; "'t was
not thy father I meant."
"Then hold thy tongue with both hands,"
said Robin sharply, or it will crack thy pate
for thee some of these fine days."
"But come, Robin," asked Nick eagerly,
"what became of the quarrel ? "
"Well, when the master-player threw his
glove into Master Stubbes's face, the Chief
Constable seized him for contempt of Stratford
Council, and held him for trial. At that some
cried 'Shame!' and some 'Hurrah!'-but the
rest of the players fled out of town in the night,
lest their baggage be taken by the law and
they be fined."
"Whither did they go ? asked Nick, both
sorry and glad to hear that they were gone.
"To Coventry, and left the masterplayer
behind in gaol."
Why, they dare na use him so the Lord
Admiral's own man! "
"Ay, that they don't! Why, hark 'e,
Nick! This morning, since Sir Thomas has
gone home, and the burgesses' heads have all
cooled down from the sack and the clary they
were in last night, la! but they are in a pretty
stew, my father says, for fear that they have
given offense to the Lord Admiral. So they
have spoken the master-player softly, and given
him his freedom out of hand; and a long gold
chain to twine about his cap, to mend the
matter with, beside."
"Whee-ewl" whistled Nick. "I wish I were
a master-player !"
Oh, but he will not be pleased, and says
he will have his revenge on Stratford town
if he must needs wait until the end of the
world or go to the Indies after it. And he has
had his breakfast served in Master Geoffrey
Inchbold's own room at the Swan, and swears







MASTER SKYLARK.


that he will walk the whole way to Coventry
sooner than straddle the horse that the bur-
gesses have sent him to ride."
"What! Is he at the inn? Why, let's go
down and see him."
"Master Brunswood says that he will birch
whoever cometh late," objected Hal Saddler.
"Birch? groaned Nick. "Why, he does
nothing but birch! A fellow can na say his
'sum, es, est' without catching it. And as
for getting through the 'genitivo' and 'vo-
cativo' without a downright threshing-" he
shrugged his shoulders ruefully as he remem-
bered his unlearned lesson. Everything had
gone wrong with him that morning, and the
thought of the birching that he was sure to get
was more than he could bear. "I will na
stand it any longer-- I '11 run away! "
Kit Sedgewick laughed ironically. "And
when the skies fall we '11 catch sparrows, Nick
Attwood," said he. "Whither wilt thou run ? "
Stung by his tone of ridicule, Nick out with the
first thing that came into his head: To Coven-
try, after the stage-players," said he defiantly.
The whole crowd gave an incredulous hoot.
Nick's face flushed. To be crossed at home,
to be birched at school, to work all May-day
in the tannery vats, and to be laughed at it
was too much.
"Ye think that I will na ? Well, I '11 show
ye! 'T is only eight miles to Warwick, and
hardly more than that beyond--no walk at
all and Diccon Haggard, my mother's cousin,
lives in Coventry. So out upon your musty
Latin-English is good enough for me this
day! There 's blue-bells blowing in the din-
gles, and cuckoo-buds no end. And while
ye are all grinding at your old Esop, I shall
be roaming over the hills wherever I please."
As he spoke he thought of the dark, wain-
scoted walls of the school-room with their
narrow little windows overhead, of the foul-
smelling floors of the tannery in Southam's
lane, and his heart gave a great, rebellious
leap. Ay," said he, exultantly, I shall be
out where the birds can sing and the grass is
green; and I shall see the stage-play; while ye
will be mewed up all day long in school, and
have nothing but a beggarly morris and a
farthing May-pole on the morrow."


Oh, no doubt, no doubt," said Hal Saddler
mockingly. "We shall have but-bread and
milk, and thou shalt have a most glorious
threshing from thy father when thou comest
home again!"
That was the last straw to Nick's unhappy
heart.
"'T is a threshing either way," said he,


NICK ATTWOOD'S FATHER.

squaring his shoulders doggedly. "Father will
thresh me if I run away; and Master Bruns-
wood will thresh me if I don't. I '11 not be
birched four times a week for merely tripping
on a word, and have nothing to show for it but
stripes. If I must take a threshing, I '11 have
my good day's game out first."
But wilt thou truly go to Coventry, Nick ?"
asked Robin Getley earnestly, for he liked
Nick more than all the rest.
"Ay, truly, Robin,-that I will;" and, turn-
ing, Nick walked swiftly away toward the
market-place, never looking back.


(To be continued.)


x896.]












































OVER the hills and far away
There are dreadful dragons that knights may
slay-
Great snorting dragons with brazen scales,
And wings of leather, and coiling tails.
But if you 're the proper kind of knight,
With a suit of mail and a sword that 's bright,
You may whip those dragons and win the day,
Over the hills and far away!

Over the hills and far away
There are ogres living in castles gray,
With a horn to blow and the drawbridge down,
And the ogres bellow, and stamp, and frown.
But it does n't do to be frightened-no!
You must face them boldly and strike a blow,
And then you marry the Princess May,
Over the hills and far away !
14






A DELECTABLE LAND. 15

Over the hills and far away
There are fairy monarchs in grand array,
With gnomes, and pixies, and brownies, too;
And my! the marvelous things they do!
But though they startle you just a bit,
They will help a lad who is sharp of wit,
And it's fun to watch when they dance and
play -
Over the hills and far away!


Over the hills and far away
You may have an 'excellent time, I say.
There are golden islands and magic springs
And jabberwockies and heaps of things !
You can't be dull in a land like that,
With enchanted boots and a talking cat,
So is it a wonder you long to stray
Over the hills and far away ?


THE TIMOROUS TRIMBLE.


BY FELIX LEIGH.


THE Trimble saw the Gillybut
Careering through the sky:
" Come down," she called; there is a Wunth
Which snaps at those who fly!"

The Trimble watched the Gillybut
Sail forth upon the sea.
" Put back," she wailed; "the east is red-
'T will blow a Shimmerkee!'

The Trimble found the Gillybut
Asleep beneath a wall.


"Get up," she cried; now just suppose
The Tangskip were to.fall!"

The Trimble spied the Gillybut
At supper on a bough.
"Jump off," she screamed; "you're sure to catch
Odilopasis now!"

The Trimble plagued the Gillybut
In this wise day by day;
But who they were and what she feared
It's difficult to say.



























E have all noticed how
a weed appears in a
field or lawn,- per-
haps only one or two
plants the first year,--
and in a season or two
has spread everywhere.
The dandelion is an
Old World flower, not native in America, save
far to the North and on some of the highest
of our western mountains. But somehow it
was brought here, perhaps from England in old
colonial times- Now we see its golden heads
and feathery balls at every grassy roadside, the
" clocks the boys and girls blow to tell the
hour. A few years ago farmers in the North-
west found a new weed, a vile prickly weed, in
their wheat-fields. In a very short time this
weed, the Russian thistle, has spread over
wide acres of the best farm-land in that part
of the country, and has done great injury to
the crops.
How do these plants spread so fast and so
far? They are not carried about and planted.
No one would be so foolish as to sow Russian
thistles. The mother-plant must have ways
of her own for sending her offspring abroad
into the world. Plants propagate themselves
in two ways, from seed or from buds. Some-
times these biids are borne on slender runners.
A strawberry plant, after it has blossomed, be-
gins to send out such runners, with buds, un-
folding tufts of leaves, along them. These tufts


are at first connected with the parent plant, but
later the runners between break away, and
each tuft becomes a new plant. Many grasses,
like Bermuda grass and the troublesome quick-
or couch-grass, have creeping stems, each joint
sending out a bunch of roots below and a bud
on the upper side. If you try to hoe up such
grasses, you only make matters worse, for each
joint when cut off is ready to form an indepen-
dent plant. Such grasses spread very fast, and
soon take possession of the land they get into.
Many plants, like lilies and crocuses, have
thick bulbs or corms underground, on which
grow the buds that are to make new plants.
Every year new bulbs grow out of the old one.
The little round, dark bulblets between the
leaves and stems of our showy garden friend
the tiger-lily are buds that fall to the ground
and make new plants.
But most plants grow from seed, and we are
going to see just now how the seed is scattered.
It is good for plants to keep as much apart
as possible. If the seed fell straight to the
ground, and the young plants all grew -up to-
gether around the parent one, they would starve
each other out. For plants are like people,
and when crowded too closely together, fall to
fighting among themselves. Their struggles
are very bitter ones, though we do not see or
hear them. The plants that are strongest in
these silent battles end by getting the light and
air and water and food they need from the
soil, while the poor weaklings are left to starve





HOW PLANTS SPREAD.


and die. To prevent ..
too much of this waste- ''
ful crowding and strug- '
gling, old Dame Na- I '
ture has invented many t
a clever little scheme. ,
When trees or small-
er plants grow on river
banks, their fruits often all into the water,
and are carried down stream by the current,
sometimes finding landing-places on the banks, and so grow-
ing up into new plants. Who has not seen sycamore-balls
and buckeyes traveling along in this easy fashion ? These
are the fruits
of the trees
they grow on.
Fruit is
S' ,the part I
of the
I_ plant that .1"
incloses the
seed, with the
Seed itself. So
the dry pods
SE that hold the
black morning-
glory seeds are as
truly fruits as are ap-
THE THISTLE'S ARGOSY.
ples or strawberries,
though we commonly use the word only for
those that are good to eat. It often hap-
pr.en that, on small islands in rivers, trees and flowers are
o.inid chlar dc.I not grow on the neighboring banks. These have
:me dr.;n ther ri er, sometimes from the mountains where it rises,
in the s ,hap ori fruits, and have found lodging on the island, during
'high wter. Somtnrimes fruits are thus borne quite out to sea, and
lien the, nal, b1 caught up by ocean currents and carried long dis-
.nnc.-;. It h.i been said that Columbus first formed the notion that
td'-t nhi,2-l L art-nd beyond the western ocean on seeing some strange
nlit. tl: har I ,b--:n washed to the shores of the Azores from far
away America.
SThe usual way for seeds to be carried is by the wind. Sometimes they
are so small and light as to be easily wafted by the breezes. This is
hbe case with the seed of the moccasin-flowers and meadow-pinks, and the other
beautiful plants of our woods and bogs called orchids. And the tiny bodies,
like atoms of dust, termed "spores," that answer to seed in ferns and mosses
and toadstools, are borne away by the lightest breath of air. But most seeds
are themselves too heavy for this. So they are ofttimes provided with thin,
OFF ON A FAVORING
IREEZE. THE SEEDS broad wings that carry them before the wind as a sail carries a boat. The
OF THE MILKWEED. pairs of "keys that hang in clusters from the maple-trees in spring are such
VOL. XXIV.-3.






HOW PLANTS SPREAD.


winged fruits. When ripe they float slowly to
the ground, or if a high wind is blowing, they
are carried farther from the tree. The ash has
thick bunches of winged fruits much like these,
but single. The elm has a thin, papery border
all around its small seeds, which makes them
quite conspicuous as they hang on the branch-
lets before the leaves have come out.


S \ Num.

pn t- he, e

delicate hairs or
bristles that take the place of wings. A dan-
delion "clock," or a head of thistle-down, is
a bunch of seeds, each with a circle of fine
bristles on the summit. When the seeds are ripe,
along comes a breeze, and puff! away go the
seeds, hanging from their tufts of bristles, as
the basket hangs from a balloon. The bunches
of long silky hairs that come from a bursting
pod of milkweed, and fill the air around, have
each their precious cargo in the shape of a


small, brown seed. The seeds that ripen in
heads on the clematis, after the handsome purple
flower-leaves have fallen, have long feathered
tails, like slender bird-plumes, that do the same
work that is given to the silk of milkweed. The
" cotton around the seeds of the willows at the
riverside and of the poplars along city streets
serves the same useful purpose. Cotton itself


S is only a bunch of fine white hair
S around the seed. Ages before men
thought of spinning it, and weaving it into
cloth, it was making itself useful to the cot-
t.on-plant by helping to scatter its seeds.
Tumble-weeds spread themselves in a whole-
it.le f.ishion. Instead of sending the separate
-:eds out into the world with wings or hairs to
carry them, the whole plant breaks off near the
root, when these are ripe, and goes rolling
:,loni the ground before the wind. The bare
isur--.:orched deserts of the Great West produce
.Lr.:tl tumble-weeds, and there are some in
the prairie region. It is natural that they
should be most abundant where there are no
hills nor trees to stop them in their course. But
we have one tumble-weed in the East the
old-witch grass, so-called, maybe, because it
rides the wind like an old beldame. In Sep-
tember this grass spreads its head, or panicle,
with hair-like, purple branches, in every sandy
field. When the seeds are ripe the plants are
blown across the field, often piling up in masses
along fences and hedgerows. As might be ex-
pected, the hair-grass, which has so effective a


[Nov.






HOW PLANTS SPREAD.


way of spreading itself, is found throughout
the United States, from ocean to ocean.
After a stroll afield, in the fall, one is apt to
wonder, as he works away at the burrs that
cover his clothes, what use they can possibly
be. Burrs are a great nuisance to men and.
animals; but the plants they grow on find them
very serviceable, for they are simply fruits cov-
ered with spines or prickles; and this is only
another way plants have to distribute their
seeds. That it is a scheme that works well
any one can see who has a hunting-dog, and
keeps it in his yard. In the spring fine crops
of Spanish needles and clot-burrs come up as if
by magic, where there were none before. They
have grown from the burrs the dog brought
home in his coat the autumn before. Around
woolen mills in New England plants from the
West spring up in a mysterious way, and nearly
always these have burr-fruits. They have
grown from the burrs taken from the fleece of
sheep, in cleaning, and thrown out as waste.
Some troublesome weeds have been introduced
in this manner. On the prairies there are many
plants with this kind of fruit. In former days,


Spanish needles, have only
three or four slender spines,
or awns, as they are called,
at the summit of the fruit.
If we look at them through
a magnifying-glass, we find
them bearing sharp, down-
ward-pointing barbs, like
that of a fish-hook. The
sand-spur, an ill weed that
grows on sea-beaches and
sandy river-banks, has burrs
.covered with such spines. a
The boy who has stepped
on sand-spurs with his bare
feet knows this to his sor- SPANISH NEEDLES.
row. The tiny barbs go in easily, but every
attempt to draw them out makes them tear
into the flesh.
Often the spines or bristles are hooked in-
stead of being barbed. The clot-burr, or cockle-
burr that grows abundantly in waste ground,
and the agrimony of our woods, are examples.
Burdock has such hooked prickles on its fruits,
and they stick so fast together, that children
make of them neat little baskets, handles and
all. The tick-trefoil has jointed pods, covered
thickly with small hooked hairs that can hardly
be seen without a magnifying-glass. These
are the small, flat, brown burrs that cover the
clothing after a walk through the woods in
September. They are most annoying burrs,
worse than clot-burrs, they are so small and
stick so fast.
The most curious of all the ways of spreading
the seeds is that adopted by the jewel-weed.
This is a handsome plant, often seen in shady
places along brooks. It owes its name to the
dew that in early morning hangs in glistening
drops, like small round diamonds, along the scal-
loped edges of the leaves. Late in summer,-






HOW PLANTS SPREAD.


in August and September,-the jewel-weed
is covered with pretty flowers, something like
snapdragon blossoms, orange-red spotted
with brown. Later on, when the seeds are
ripe, the lightest touch will make the pods
that hold them burst open suddenly, and
scatter them far and wide, like shot from a
tiny cannon. For this reason the European
jewel-weed is known as Noli-me-tangere, which
is Latin for "Touch me not." The garden
balsam, or lady's-slipper, a relative of the jewel-
weed, has the same sort of elastically-opening
pods.
Another American plant that shoots out its
seed in the same fashion is the r
witch-hazel, a shrub sometimes .
planted on lawns, and growing
wild along brooks and on hill- It
sides. The witch-hazel blos-
soms in October or November,
when most other plants are
dead. Often its own leaves
have fallen when it begins to
unfold its strap-shaped, crinkled
yellow petals. Its
shining black seeds -
do not ripen till the next
(i ^SH a


O4
4900


' midsum-
mer. Then
they are
discharged
violently from
the pods, and
are sometimes


S or twelve
feet. The
JIi witch-hazel
is a sturdy,
independent fel-
I i:, and he does
S nou wait for wind
or water, or for
ES. chance wander-


ing animals to do his,
work for him.
But the most re- ,''
markable instance of
this method of scat-
tering the seeds is affordLd 1
by Hura crepitans, a hand-
some tree, native of the
] forests of South America.
; The curious fruit of this
"r tree is a somewhat flat-
tened, deeply furrowed or
I' fluted body, made
up of a
circle of
r many cells,
'each con-
S training one
seed. When __
7 the seods
are ripe the
cells open, and expel them with a
loud report, like the crack of a THE TICK
pistol. Hence the fruit is some- TEO
times called the "monkeys' dinner-bell."
Stories have been told of Hura fruits being
placed in desks and subsequently opening and
discharging their seeds with such violence as to
break ink-wells, and even to crack the wood of
the desk.
Many other means employed by plants to
disperse themselves could be described were
there space for them. Those of us who live in
the country, or visit it in summer, can discover
some of these for ourselves. They are of never-
failing interest, for they show how ready plants
are to seek out new homes, and fit themselves
for more important places in the world. Those
that can do this are always spreading and wax-
ing strong among their fellows, while the weaker
ones gradually become rarer, and finally, if
completely overcome, may disappear from cer-
tain localities.


THE CLEMATIS. SEEDS WITH PLUM











BOB'S WAY.


BY TUDOR JENKS.


ST. NICHOLAS belongs to Bob,
Because our Uncle Jim
When he subscribed, last Christmas Day,
Had it addressed to him.

But when it comes, why, I can't wait -
To read it--till Bob 's through;
And Bob, who 's always good to me,
Found out a way to do.

So, while he 's reading on one page,
I 'm reading on another.
It 's just like Bob.-Whatever 's his
He shares it with his brother.


I,


..' a:
F-











JUNE'S GARDEN.


BY MARION HILL.


CHAPTER I.
THE PLAN.
"LEILA, I wish you'd stop reading," begged
June, gloomily. I have something very im-
portant to tell you."
Urn," assented the absorbed reader, turning
a page.
Besides, it is too twilighty to read," pur-
sued June, relentlessly. "You ought to stop.
Do you hear me ? "
"Um-um," murmured Leila, buried fathoms
deep in the story.
Reading is a fearful waste of time," moral-
ized June, who, having come to the end of her
book, found that the minutes were hanging
heavily-" a a great waste; because, you
see, things in books are never what they are in
real life. I have felt it from my babyhood up.
Even in my school-days I was tormented by
the discrepancies. Take, now, that story of the
boy who broke somebody's window, and nobly
went to pay for it with his one and only dollar.
If you recollect, the owner of the smashed win-
dow put the money back in the youth's hand,
and all but wept tears of joy over his honesty.
Now, if I broke a window, I am sure I would
not only lose my dollar, but would get roundly
scolded for carelessness into the bargain.
Don't you think so ?"
Leila cooed again without raising her eyes,
but June accepted the sound as an evidence
of attention, and proceeded with her reminis-
cences: Then the studious youth who wanted
some books very badly and went out one frosty
New Year's morning to buy them, only to stum-
ble across a destitute family, to whom the new
and shining (as if that made it any more valu-
able!) to whom the new and shining money
went as a matter of course. But did the child
have to do without his books, as you or I would
expect to do? Not a bit of it, my young


friend. Lo and behold! his father, who in
some marvelous manner became informed of
the whole transaction, bought him a double
quantity of books to reward him for his kind-
ness of heart. Such tales are a perversion of
Nature, who contends that you cannot have
your cake and eat it. I have communed much
with Nature, and I know her sentiments.
These are her exact words : 'You cannot keep
your cake, Miss June Miller, and likewise eat
it.' "
There was a pause, during which some ashes
fell into the grate. Leila turned another page,
and June cast a rapt gaze ceilingward as she
gathered material for her next words.
"Books are the root of all evil they are a
delusion and a snare. Have you noticed that
no matter how ugly a heroine is to start with,
she is always sure to blossom into a beauty be-
fore you are done with her? Why, if I were
to live for a hundred years, do you think any
combination on earth could transform me into a
beauty? "
"I do not announced Leila, emphatically,
roused at last to articulation.
June laughed good-temperedly. She ac-
cepted the fact of her plainness without letting
it worry her.
"To hear you talk, one would think you were
a monster of uncharitableness, when the truth
is, you give away your clothes, and your books,
and your time, and your Leila went on.
Not my money," said June, dryly.
"Simply because you never have any money.
But you would if you had."
"' Sister, my sweet sister,' as Byron says, you
have not grasped the gist of my remarks at all.
What I am objecting to is the idea that we get
paid right back for everything we do, when we
don't. And we ought not to, for it spoils every-
thing. Why, if I deny myself something to
have a little money for charities, and then some
!2






JUNE'S GARDEN.


one makes up that something to me, I feel as if
I had been cheated out of half the fun."
"Oh, June!" said Leila, wincing. Often-
times June's direct expressions were a trial to
her; so she sought to change the trend of
thought by asking, "What was the important
thing you had to say ? "
Oh! Ah! It is hard to start in the right
place to make you see its importance as I see
it," confessed June. But I '11 do my best.
We get enough to eat, don't we, Leila ? "
Good gracious, June, what a question "
"Answer, please," was the remorseless re-
sponse.
"Yes."
And we have clothes to cover us, even if
they are of the fashion of years gone by."
Yes."
And we pay our bills -"
"With trouble."
"And we live in rather a nice street -"
In a verv nice street; too nice, for our
house is the only shanty on the block."
But in spite of these enumerated blessings,
has it never occurred to you that we are really
very poor? "
Have we not always been poor?" sighed
Leila.
Well, we have; but that is no reason why
we should be content to remain so. And since
poor father died, mother has had to work en-
tirely too much for her strength. You and I
are willing enough to work, Leila, but we cer-
tainly are not successes at obtaining employ-
ment. And yet it is clear that we must do
something to help little mother along "
"We have talked this way so often, and it
has never come to anything," said Leila, truly
enough.
Well, one swallow does not make a sum-
mer," said June, soothingly; she had a way of
extracting unusual meanings out of the pro-
verbs she used. "I have another plan -a
grand one."
What is it ? "
"To work in my garden for profit as well as
for pleasure; to raise violets for florists, and
roses, and chrysanthemums, as the season bids.
Don't you think the idea is glorious ? "
"Y-y-yes," was the halting answer.


Oh, you don't, eh ? Well, for myself, I can
see only one thing against it."
"What is that ? "
"The agony that my commercial proceedings
will arouse in both our neighbors," said June,
with an irrepressible burst of laughter as she
thought of the situation.
And the haughtiest one on the block, the
lame girl, sits where she will be able to watch
you gardening. There will be no keeping out
of her sight."
"It may cheer her up to have something
to look at," suggested June. At any rate, I
cannot afford to be hindered by fear of what
the neighbors may think of me. I am not go-
ing to do anything wrong."
Are you really going to do all this that you
have said ? asked Leila.
Yes."
To ask money for your flowers that you love
so, to work in your garden as at a business, to
ask florists to buy from you? Oh, June, it is
hard! "
"Yes," repeated June, rising, and putting her
hands sturdily behind her.
She looked like one making ready for a dire
struggle.
"Oh, why are we, so poor ? What wrong
have we ever done ? cried Leila, breaking
into tears.
"What right have we ever done that we
should be rich ? demanded June, grimly, but
smoothing her sister's bent head with the ten-
derest touches.
Oh, June, how strong you are! You never
cry."
Tears are not in my line," said June, wink-
ing back, as she spoke, a sympathetic fog. "I
only cry when I have done everything else I
can think of. And really, with so much to do
in the world, there is mighty little time for
weeping -that is, for me. As long as I can
swing my arms, and take a deep breath, and
get at something, I never despair. 'Up and
doing, little Christian,' is my motto; though
candor compels me to confess that I am not
little, nor am I as good a Christian as I could
wish, nor is my doing' of any vast importance.
Still, the motto is excellent. Now I come to
think of it, can there be a nicer occupation






JUNE'S GARDEN.


than being up' early in the morning, and 'do-
ing' in a sweet-smelling garden ? Answer, 'lit-
tle Christian.'"
"So you have made up your mind? "
"Yes; and made my preparations, too."
"In what way? "
First, I asked mother if I might."
"What does she think ? "
She deplores the necessity, but commends
the courage of my undertaking," said June,
reveling in her romantic wording.
Good: but you 're not businesslike."


perching upon the arm of Leila's chair, kissed
her sister with a gay penitence.
When are you going to begin your new
business ?" asked Leila, faintly cheered.
As the sages tell us, there is no time like
to-morrow," quoth June, triumphantly.

CHAPTER II.
MISS ARCTIC."
JUNE and Leila and a small white kitten sat
on the steps of the porch, and surveyed the

r-L,~.y iI -1lm


JUNE BEGINS HER GARDEN.


"Well, maybe not. But people have their
different ways, I suppose. As a worthy woman
once remarked, It takes all sorts of folks to
make the world, and, thank fortune I 'm not
one of them.'"
"June, dear "
"What 's the matter now ?"
Can't you be serious for a moment ?"
"Well, when things come into a person's
head, what is that person to do ? and June,


long neglected garden. The kitten was quite
as interested as anybody, turning her coquettish
little head from side to side with the thought-
fulness of a professor.
"Why did we call this kitty Misfit' ?"
asked Leila, after a silent reminiscence.
Because her thick fur is a decided misfit for
her thin bones, and because her largely active
spirit is a misfit for her small body. Moreover,
if she should be addicted to fits, the name


[Nov.






JUNE'S GARDEN.


would be suitable; just as it would be if she
missed having fits. Do you remember? "
"Oh, yes; you never forget things, do you ?"
"Oh, never !" said June, derisively.
There was another period of silence. Really,
the garden was in a state of distress.
"What are you going to do first? asked
Leila.
"Dig," responded June, with Spartan brevity;
and, jumping up, she ran down the steps, seized
a spade, and flung herself into the occupation.
The morning was one of California's fairest-
I did not tell you, did I, that the Millers lived
in California? Well, they did; and in the gar-
den city of Alameda- a broad and gracious
town, where one can call himself in the city or
the country, as the whim seizes him. Flowers
grow with as little effort or care as the birds
sing. No wonder that June felt sanguine.
Now, according to the best literature," she
puffed, between the digs, my venture ought to
attract the attention of an eccentric millionaire
with an appreciation of earnest endeavor, who
:would buy my flowers at triple their value, as
fast as I could raise them, so that eventually I
would retire on a fortune sufficient to buy up
all Europe; or, if the season for millionaires
was dull, I might have to content myself with
purchasing the United States. Or I might as
well prepare myself for the worst, and make up
my mind to earn no more than would buy us a
homestead, and keep us in silk dresses for the
rest of our natural lives."
"What would your millionaire buy ?" asked
Leila, looking around at the dearth of blooms.
"What 's the matter with those hyacinths ? "
demanded June, loftily.
"Nothing. They are beautiful," agreed
Leila. "I did not notice them before."
"I did. They are my whole stock in trade
just at present. Just smell them cried June,
ecstatically.
"I believe that you like to work out here,"
said her sister, skeptically.
"Glory in it. Don't you ?"
"I would rather be indoors reading," said
Leila, proceeding to vanish.
Left to herself, June worked with a greater
will than ever, drinking in the nectar of the
morning's freshness, and pouring out the ex-
VOL. XXIV.-4.


uberance of her heart either in song or in bits
of advice to Misfit, who was embarrassingly
persistent in her attentions.
"I suppose you think I could not get on
without you ?" exclaimed she reproachfully, as
Misfit rolled rapturously over a slip just planted.
Now the kitten ran about chasing a leaf, next
sat down to watch it, and finally jumped a foot
in the air in a nervous frenzy when the wind
moved the leaf unexpectedly.
"I declare, plants and kittens do give one
the most charming thoughts! I have n't en-
joyed myself so much for months. And our
high and mighty neighbors have n't appealed
to the police yet. Things are not so frigid as
I expected. Positively, it is quite equatorial
while I work here in the center of things; but
what will happen if I spade myself down to
either fence ? Something, surely; for there is
Miss Arctic' at her post, scowling over her
crutches (poor thing!) ; and, as I live, there is
old Mrs. Antarctic' tottering round her garden."
While June invented these coldly-descriptive
names, she worked steadily on, just as if the
two curious neighbors were not watching her
every movement. She soon forgot them again
in the interest of her work. It was so delight-
ful to dig up great mounds of rich-smelling
earth! So absorbing t6 plant out the tiny
pansy seedlings! So fascinating to cut chrysan-
themum slips and trim the rose-bushes! Mis-
fit, too, seemed so wildly grateful for the un-
usual companionship. Not a hole could June
dig that Misfit did not deem it dug expressly
that she might descend into it and chase her
tail in those confined quarters.
"Won't you please go away! You bother
me so! wailed June piteously at last; and to
her horror she heard a freezing voice reply:
"I quite fail to see how my presence can
bother you! "
June had insensibly spaded "herself near to
the domain of Miss Arctic; and that offended
young person, fancying herself addressed, was
preparing to limp indoors, when June, sitting
down in the grass in her great despair, ex-
plained:
"I was talking to my cat!"
At this precise moment, too, Misfit hurled
herself upon a newly planted pink slip, and,





JUNE'S GARDEN.


dragging it bodily out of the ground, wrapped
it in a warm embrace, and rolled from side to
side with it.
"Do you wonder ?" implored June.
No," replied the lame girl, smiling faintly,
and looking as if she would like to linger and
talk. In spite of the smile, a perpetual frown
gloomed upon her face.
"I am so glad we are acquainted at last,"
announced Miss Miller, taking it for granted
that the ice was broken. "I have always
wanted to know you."
"Why ? "
"Because you are so pretty, .for one thing,"
replied truthful June.
"Me pretty! Me! said the lame girl, flush-
ing painfully, and glancing at her crutch.
"Very pretty. Look at me, now; I am
hopeless. But all the same, I adore pretty
people and pretty things."
And would you adore me ? asked the girl,
a trifle bitterly.
"If you would let me, Miss Arc oh, my! "
What did you call me? "
"I don't know your name," mumbled June.
"My name is Sarah Allison. Sarah. Beau-
tiful, is n't it? "
"Don't you like it ? "
"I detest it! "
Oh, dear!" said her sympathetic listener.
"I think Sarah is a grand old name. Sarah
means the princess. It 's so dignified. My
name is June. No dignity about that."
"June ? Because you were born in June ?"
"Exactly. My sister was born in November."
"And her name is- "
"Leila," replied Leila's sister, laughing.
"I wish I had a sister," said Sarah Allison.
"But you have the dearest brother! -I have
seen him."
"Dearest!" echoed the girl, with scorn.
Gracious! What's the matter with him?"
asked June, in consternation.
"He is rough. He teases. He is unfeeling.
He runs about, while I can only hobble."
June jumped to her feet, with a look of dis-
taste on her bright young face. Her voice,
too, was very clear as she said:
"It seems to me that you speak as if you
would like him to be lame, too."


For answer the girl burst into tears, crying:
Nobody loves me! Nobody knows how I
suffer "
Ugh! weeping again! It's a wonder you
have any weeps left! cried a scoffing voice.
I suppose you are Roy Allison, though I
can't see you," said June, looking around.
A little higher," said the same jeering voice;
and June obediently lifted her eyes until she
gazed right into two dancing blue orbs whose
owner was perched in a tree near by.
"Oh! said June, amicably, pleased at her
penetration.
You don't say so twittered the boy.
June laughed in friendly fashion. Being
brotherless, her heart went out to boys.
"What a grand climber you are !" she said.
Not a bit afraid."
Any one who is familiar with the mysterious
ways of boys can guess the effect of these words
upon the young gentleman. He gave no evi-
dence of having heard, but nevertheless com-
menced a series of difficult evolutions, springing
from branch to branch, clinging to slender
twigs by the skin of his teeth, as it were, and
ending by sliding down a treacherously swaying
limb, and landing almost at his sister's feet.
Good! commented June, critically. But
Sarah thought otherwise.
'" Showing off! she sneered.
The boy's handsome face flushed angrily,
and he seemed about to make some rude" re-
joinder; but, having caught June's anxious look,
he thought better of it, and walked proudly away.
I would like to be friends with that boy,"
announced June, warmly.
"And not with me?" cried the lame girl,
with jealous suffering.
I am friends with you," replied June, softly.
"He is always as you saw him--insolent
and uncompanionable."
Just high animal spirits, I think," said June,
sagely.
He caused my lameness," whispered Sarah.
"How ?"
I '11 tell you some time," promised Sarah,
walking into the house in obedience to a bell.
"This bids fair to be a highly exciting ac-
quaintance," confided June to the kitten; and
both entered again upon their labors.


(To be continued.)





A RACE FOR A GIRDLE.


projects the overland and the submarine -
were pitted against each other.
A very unequal race it seemed at the outset.
The Overland was strong and vigorous, the
Atlantic was broken by former failures. The
Overland was popular, and had plenty of money
back of it; the Atlantic was derided, and "only
fools," it was said, would invest in it."
The fleet of the Russian Expedition which
sailed from San Francisco in the summer of 1865
,vas quite a navy. There were ocean steamers,
sailing-vessels, coast and river boats, and Rus-
sian and American ships of the line, with a
promise of a vessel from her Majesty's navy.
The expedition was well officered, and about
120 men were enlisted-men of superior
ability in every department. The supplies
embraced everything that could be needed.
Thousands of tons of wire, some 300 miles
of cable, insulators, wagons, etc.
The expedition was divided into four parties.
One sailed for British Columbia; another for
the Yukon; another for Siberia; and another
for the Anadyn region- that desolate tract
far north of Kamchatka. It was more than
two years before some of those "telegraph
boys" heard from home. The story of their
heroism and endurance in exploring a route
for the telegraph, cutting poles on snow-shoes
and dragging them across the desolate arctic
wastes, is graphically told in the books written
by members of the expedition, such as Ken-
nan's "Tent-Life in Siberia," Bush's "Rein-
deer, Dogs, and Snow-Shoes," Dall's "Alaska,"
and others.
August 26, 1866, the Great Eastern landed
its cable at Trinity Bay, and the whole world
was electrified by the news that it worked per-
fectly- that the victory had been won. -More
than that. The Great Eastern not long after-
ward picked up the cable lost the year before, and
that too was soon in working order. Two elec-
tric girdles had been clasped around the earth.
The success of the "Atlantic" was defeat
for the Russian." An overland telegraph-
line could never compete with the submarine
cables. The first triumphant click, click!"
at Trinity Bay was therefore the death-blow of
the Russian scheme, and all work connected
with that project was at once abandoned.


But the workers the brave men facing
famine among the wild Chookchees- buried
in their lonely huts waiting for some news from
their comrades, or straining every nerve to
complete their share of the great work -how
pathetic that so many of them did not hear
what had happened in some cases for more than
a year after the success of the cable!
Some of the most terrible experiences of
the members of the expedition were endured
long after the project had been abandoned
by its promoters, and when they were working
all in vain -if good, honest work is ever all
in vain.
Not until July, 1867, did the Siberian party
hear the great news. They boarded a whaler
which had put into their port, and read it in
an old newspaper. They were not long in
starting for home -in leaving their 15,ooo
telegraph-poles for the camp-fires of the wan-
dering natives. When the party at Nulato Bay
heard the news, they hung all the black cloth
they could spare upon the poles planted in the
hard frozen earth, and left them for the birds
to roost upon.
August, 1867, found some 120 men of the
expedition in camp at Plover Bay, waiting for
the ship the Western Union was to send after
them. It seemed a pity that so much of the
lives of those men should have been spent in
such dreary exile and hard labor, and all for
naught. Only four members of the expedition
had died, terrible as had been the experiences
of the majority. The fickle world, which had
so loudly cheered the going forth of the expe-
dition, had quite forgotten its fate in rejoicing
over the Atlantic cable.
The loss to the Western Union was about
$3,000,000-a loss hardly felt in the gain
which came to the telegraph company in the
success of the cable.
When we remember the explorations and
scientific gains of the Western Union Russian
Overland Extension," we can hardly call it a
complete failure. Perhaps it is one of those
defeated successes whose results we are never
to know. It was a fair race, and now that we
have nearly a dozen cables crossing the north-
ern Atlantic, it is doubtful if the idea of an
overland will ever be revived.












HOW THE BAD NEWS CAME TO SIBERIA.


By GEORGE KENNAN.


IN every race somebody must be beaten,
and in the telegraphic Race for a Girdle,"
described by Mrs. Parker in the present num-
ber of ST. NICHOLAS, I had the misfortune to
be on the losing side. The news of the suc-
cess of our trans-Atlantic competitor--good
news for the world, but bad news for us did
not reach the remote part of Arctic Asia, where
we were at work, until June, 1867, almost a
year after submarine telegraphic communica-
tion between Europe and America had been
successfully established. I was at that time
superintendent of a division of the Overland or
Russian-American Telegraph Line, and had
my headquarters in the Siberian village of Gi-
zhiga Gee'-zhee-gah'], a small collection of one-
story log-houses, situated on a river of the
same name about six miles from the coast of
the Okhotsk Sea. My comrades and I had
been in Siberia two years. We had explored
and located the route of the proposed telegraph
line from Bering Strait to the Amur [Am-moor']
River through nearly 2000 miles of trackless
wilderness; we had maintained half a dozen
strong working-parties in the field, and expected
soon to reinforce them with 1ooo hardy native
laborers from Yakutsk [Yah-kootsk']; we had
cut and prepared 15,000 or 20,000 telegraph-
poles, and were bringing 600 Siberian ponies
from the Lena River to distribute them; we had
all the wire and insulators for the Asiatic divi-
sion on the ground, as well as an abundant
supply of tools and provisions, and we felt more
than hopeful that we should be able to put our
part of the overland line in working order be-
fore the beginning of i870. So confident, in-
deed, were some of our men, that in the pole-
cutting camps they were singing in chorus every
night to the air of a well-known war-song:

In eighteen hundred and sixty-eight-
Hurrah! Hurrah!


In eighteen hundred and sixty-eight-
Hurrah! Hurrah!
In eighteen hundred and sixty-eight
The cable will be in a miserable state,
And we '11 all feel gay
When they use it to fish for whales.

In eighteen hundred and sixty-nine--
Hurrah! Hurrah!
In eighteen hundred and sixty-nine--
Hurrah! Hurrah!
In eighteen hundred and sixty-nine
We 're going to finish this overland line;
And we '11 all feel gay
When it brings us good news from home.

But it was fated that our next news from home
should not be brought by the overland line,
and should not be of such a nature as to make
any of us feel gay."
On the evening of May 31, 1867, as I sat
trying to draw a map in the little one-story
log-house which served as the headquarters of
the Siberian division, I' was interrupted by the
sudden and hasty entrance of my friend and
comrade Lewis, who rushed into the room, cry-
ing excitedly, Oh, Mr. Kennan! Did you
hear the cannon ?" I had not heard it, but I
understood instantly the significance of the in-
quiry. A cannon-shot meant that there was a
ship in sight from the beacon-tower at the
mouth of the river. We were accustomed
every spring to get our earliest news from
the civilized world through American whaling-
vessels, which resort at that season of the
year to the Okhotsk Sea. About the middle
of May, therefore, we generally sent a couple
of Cossacks to the harbor at the mouth of the
river, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout
from the log beacon-tower on the bluff, and fire
three cannon-shots the moment they should see
a whaler or other vessel cruising in the Gulf.
In less than ten minutes the news that there
was a vessel in sight from the beacon-tower had
reached every house in the village, and a little






HOW THE BAD NEWS CAME TO SIBERIA.


group of Cossacks gathered at the landing-
place where a boat was being prepared to take
Robinson, Lewis, and me to the sea-coast.
Half an hour later we were gliding swiftly down
the river in one of the light skiffs known in that
part of Siberia as "lodkas." We had a faint
hope that the ship which had been signaled
would prove to be one of our own vessels; but
even if she should turn out to be a whaler, she
would at least bring us late news from the out-
side world, and we felt a burning curiosity to
know what had been the result of the second
attempt to lay an Atlantic cable. Had our
competitors beaten us, or was there still a fight-
ing chance that we might beat them ?
We reached the mouth of the river late in
the evening, and were met at the landing by
one of the Cossacks from the beacon-tower.
"What ship is it? I inquired.
"We don't know," he replied. "We saw
dark smoke, like the smoke of a steamer, off
Matuga [Mah'-too-gah] Island just before we
fired the cannon, but in a little while it blew
away and we have seen nothing since."
"If it was a whaler trying-out oil," said Rob-
inson, we '11 find her there in the morning."
Leaving the Cossack to take our baggage
out of the lodka we all climbed up to the bea-
con-tower with the hope that, as it was still
fairly light, we might be able to see with a glass
the vessel that had made the smoke; but from
the high, black cliffs of Matuga Island on one
side of the gulf to the steep slope of Cape Cath-
arine on the other, there was nothing to break the
level horizon line except here and there a field
of drifting ice. Returning to the Cossack bar-
rack, we spread our bearskins and blankets
down on the rough plank floor and went dis-
consolate to bed.
Early the next morning I was awakened by
one of the Cossacks with the welcome news
that there was a square-rigged vessel in the
offing, five or six miles beyond Matuga Island.
I climbed hastily up the bluff, and had no diffi-
culty in making out with a glass the masts and
sails of a good-sized bark, evidently a whaler,
which, although hull down, was apparently
cruising back and forth with a light southerly
breeze across the Gulf. We ate breakfast has-


tily, put on our fur kukhlankas and caps, and
started in a whaleboat under oars for the ship,
which was distant about fifteen miles. Although.
the wind was light and the sea comparatively
smooth, it was a hard, tedious pull, and we did
not get alongside until after ten o'clock. Pac-
ing the quarterdeck, as we climbed on board,
was a good-looking, ruddy-faced, gray-haired
man whom I took to be the captain. He evi-
dently thought, from our outer fur dress, that
we were only a party of natives come off to
trade; and he paid no attention whatever to us
until I walked aft and said, "Are you the cap-
tain of this bark ? "
At the first word of English he stopped as
if transfixed, stared at me for a moment in si-
lence, and then exclaimed in a tone of profound
astonishment, Well! Has the universal Yan-
kee got up here ? "
"Yes, Captain," I replied, "he is not only
here, but he has been here two years or more.
What bark is this ? "
"The 'Sea Breeze,' of New Bedford, Massa-
chusetts," he replied; and I am Captain Hamil-
ton. But what are you doing up in this for-
saken country? Have you been shipwrecked ?"
"No," I said; "we 're up here trying to
build a telegraph line."
"A telegraph line!" he shouted. "Well,
if that is n't the craziest thing I ever heard of!
Who 's going to telegraph from here? "
I explained to him that we were trying
to establish telegraphic communication be-
tween America and Europe by way of Alaska,
Bering Strait, and Siberia, and asked him if he
had never heard of the Russian American Tele-
graph Company.
"Never," he replied. "I did n't know there
was such a company; but I 've been out two
years on a cruise, and I have n't kept up very
well with the news."
How about the Atlantic cable?" I in-
quired. "Do you know anything about that ?"
"Oh, yes," he replied cheerfully, as if he
were giving me the best news in the world,
"the cable is laid all right."
"Does it work?" I asked with a sinking
heart.
"Works like a snatch-tackle," he responded


*A garment like a blouse, or sweater," and made of reindeer skin.






HOW THE BAD NEWS CAME TO SIBERIA.


heartily. "The Frisco papers are publishing'
every morning the London news of the day
before. I 've got a lot of 'em on board that
I '11 give you. Perhaps you 'll find something
in them about your company."
I think the captain must have noticed, from
the sudden change in the expression of our
faces, that his news about the Atlantic cable
was a staggering blow to us, for he immediately
dropped the subject and suggested the pro-
priety of going below.
We all went down into the cosy, well-fur.
nished cabin, where refreshments were set be-
fore us by the steward, and where we talked
for an hour about the news of the world, from
whaling in the South Pacific to dog-driving in
Arctic Asia, and from Weston's walk across
the American continent to Karakozef's attempt
to assassinate the Tzar But it was, on our
side at least, a perfunctory conversation. The
news of the complete success of the Atlantic
cable was as unexpected as it was dishearten-
ing, and it filled our minds to the exclusion
of everything else. We had lost the race, and
even if we should go over the course we could
hardly expect to get any applause, or attract
any attention. The world would have no use
for an overland telegraph-line through Alaska
and Siberia if it already possessed a working
cable between London and New York.
We left the hospitable cabin of the Sea
Breeze about noon, and prepared to return to
Gizhiga. Captain Hamilton, with warm-
hearted generosity, not only gave us all the
newspapers and magazines he had on board,
but literally filled our boat with potatoes,
pumpkins, bananas, oranges, and yams, which
he had brought up from the Sandwich Islands.
I think he saw that we were feeling somewhat
disheartened, and wanted to cheer us up in the
only way he could-by giving us some of the
luxuries of civilized life. We had not seen a
potato, nor tasted any other vegetable or fruit,
in nearly two years.
As we left the ship we gave three hearty
cheers and a tiger" for Captain Hamilton
and the good bark Sea Breeze.
When we had pulled three or four miles
away from the bark, Lewis suggested that in-
stead of returning at once to the mouth of the


river we should go ashore at the nearest point
on the coast, and look over the newspapers
while the Cossacks made a fire and roasted
some potatoes. This seemed to us all a good
plan, and half an hour later we were sitting
around a fire of driftwood on the beach, each
of us with a newspaper in one hand and a ba-
nana or an orange in the other, and all feeding
mind and body simultaneously. The papers
were of various dates, from September, 1866, to
March, 1867, and were so mixed up that it was
impossible to follow the course of events chro-
nologically or consecutively. We were not
long, however, in ascertaining not only that the
new Atlantic cable had been successfully laid,
but that the broken and abandoned cable of
1865 had been picked up in mid-ocean, re-
paired, and put in perfect working-order. I
think this discouraged us more than anything
else. If cables could be found in the middle
of the Atlantic, picked up in ten or twelve thou-
sand feet of water, and repaired on the deck of
a steamer, the ultimate success of submarine
telegraphy was assured, and we might as well
pack up our trunks and go home. But there
was worse news to come. A few minutes later,
Lewis, who was reading an old copy of the San
Francisco Bulletin," struck his knee violently
with his clenched fist and exclaimed, Boys!
The jig is up Listen to this!

'SPECIAL DESPATCH TO THE BULLETIN.
'NEW YORK, October 15.
'In consequence of the success of the Atlantic cable
all work on the Russian American Telegraph line has
been stopped, and the enterprise has been abandoned.'"

"Well! said Robinson, after a moment of
thoughtful silence, that seems to settle it. The
cable has knocked us out."
Late in the afternoon we pulled back with
heavy hearts to the beacon-tower at the mouth

of the river, and on the following day returned
to Gizhiga, to await the arrival of a vessel from
San Francisco with an official notification of
the abandonment of our great enterprise.
The Overland Telegraph Company had lost
the race, and we, its employees, had lost two
of the best years of our youth in the snowy
wastes of arctic Asia.











THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


By WILLIAM HENRY SHELTON.


CHAPTER I.
COMPLETING THE LINE.
IF Andy Zachary, the guide, had not myste-
riously disappeared from his home within the
month which followed the events of the night
of the second of July in the year 1864, sooner
or later the postmaster in the Cove on one side
and the people in the valley on the other must
have learned of the presence of the little colony
on the summit of the great rock.
On that particular night the cavalcade had
come silently and secretly over the mountains
by an unfrequented trail from the last station
on Upper Bald, which towered above the Sandy
River country. The troopers had followed the
guide in single file along the ridges and down
the stony trails, and now, when they emerged
on the open Cove road for the first time, Andy
fell back to the captain's side, in his butternut
suit and mangy fur cap, with his long rifle slung
behind his broad, square shoulders.
For that night his will was law above that of
the captain; and before the three pack-mules
at the end of the train had come out on the
road, the head of the column had turned up a
washout to ihe left, which presently brought the
whole outfit into the shelter of a grove of pines
alongside a deserted log-cabin. It was just a
trifle.past midnight by the captain's watch, and
the full moon which hung above the ridge
to the west would light the Cove face of old
Whiteside for yet an hour; and during the dark-
ness which must follow in the small hours of
the morning there would be ample time to steal
through the sleeping settlement and find a
lodgment high up on the mountain which was
the objective of the expedition.
The troopers dismounted, and some lay down
on the ground by the horses, while two kindled
a fire in the stone chimney of the cabin and
made coffee for the others. Corporal Bromley


leaned a bundle of red and white flags against
the door-post, and after turning aside with Lieu-
tenant Coleman and Philip Welton to inspect
their supplies on the pack-mules, the three
joined the captain and the guide in the shadow
of that end of the cabin which looked toward
the singular mountain standing boldly between
the Cove and the valley beyond. That it was a
mighty fortress, unscalable on its western side,
could be seen at a glance. The broad moon-
light fell full on a huge boulder, whose mighty
top, a thousand feet above the Cove, was
fringed with a tall forest growth that looked in
the distance like stunted berry bushes, and
whose rounded granite side was streaked with
black storm-stains where the rains of centuries
had coursed down. The moonlight picked out
white spots underneath the huge folds which
here and there belted the rock and protected
its under face from the storms. These were the
spots which the rills dribbled over and the tor-
rents jumped clear of, to meet their old tracks
on the bulging rock below. It looked for all
the world as if the smoke from huge fires had
been curling against the mountain for ages, so
black were the broad upward streaks and so
white in the moon's light were the surrounding
faces of the rock. Phil was the first to speak.
It must have been a giant that rolled it
there," he said with a sigh of relief, and looking
up at Andy, the guide.
Well, now, youngster," said Andy, you 'd
'low so if you was round these parts in the
springtime when the sun loosens the big icicles
hangin' on them black ledges, an' leaves 'em
fall thunderin' into the Cove bottom."
The Cove post-office, whose long white roof
crowned a knoll nearly in the center of a small
tract within the mountain walls, Andy said
was at such times a great resort of the moun-
taineers, who came that they might watch the
movement of the avalanches of snow and ice.






"iHE LAST THREE 3SLDIERS. 33

E,,-.:.,u-,- ,-t ,nderfI *,r inann. ri.. rITII, to e tii r is a drummer-boyin the
n, untnr.- ... rbn rI- ri er- I. ll dJur- :1l Oi1:., -r !ir :Ini capacityy in any other com-
lr I_. f H-h. i. it ,.s ,.a, e.. r nfr.t fi.- :i ,.- of a gentle, affectionate
: ir, iil I.% ir ..- r ..ir ,.'. r.'- i u r. : :ri t Ii.- re-fined, but his opportuni-
ties for education had
been limited to the
winter schools and
the books he had
read behind the flour-
sacks in his uncle's
mill. Some said his
uncle was glad to be
rid of him when he
went away to the war.
Like his friend and
protector, Bromley,
he had served with
the colors on many
a hard-fought field,
and now the two had
just been detached
from their regiment
and assigned to duty
under the command
of Frederick Henry
Coleman, a second
lieutenant whose
regiment was the
z2th United States
Cavalry.
George Bromley,
although the oldest
of the three, was not
yet twenty at the time
he had enlisted at the
beginning of the war,
I and he had left col-
lege in his junior year
"." to enter the army.
.4 Lieutenant Cole-
., .man had graduated
from West Point the
summer before, the
very youngest mem-
.ber of his class. Al-
t,- n.-it.. ..n c. r. l, .h i .,..i' iii._i" rl e h r ',e ee mere boys at the time
t I-,,: L -- ., the t[ !e- ir -, ,iu-t [.- .I .ilr ch !,I-iL n -r[ each had entered the
\t I l-.-. n, .. inl I i-n ,t II .Ii. i i -, I li,: ii r i' 1, r ir-:, ll mie :rongest m motives of pa-
`hrt i 'l hLI in._ [em iii 'rpi.ii, %ii hou ii i..- cn r 3fii : F Ilowed the fortunes of
ien- 1 ,-.je.r. e iuld ringer [it,-e e,-n per- the n.,ri ial :iu vith an interest which
S '2 X I, %-.-. 5.






THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


showed itself in accordance with his personal
character.
At that time General Sherman's army was en-
gaged in that series of battles which began at
Marietta, Georgia, and, including the capture
of Pine and Lost Mountains, was soon to end
in the victory at Kenesaw. The army of Gen-
eral Sherman was steadily advancing its lines
in spite of the most heroic resistance of General
Johnston, and every new position gained was
fortified by lines of log breastworks, some-
times thrown up in an hour after the regiments
had stacked arms. These hastily constructed
works, extending ten and twelve miles across
the thickly wooded country, were nowhere less
than four feet high, with an opening under the
top log for musketry, and out in front the tree-
tops-were thrown into a tangled mass, almost
impossible for an attacking army to pass.
These peculiar and original tactics of General
Sherman enabled him to hold his front with a
thin line of men, while the bulk of his troops
were sent around one flank or the other to turn
the enemy out of his works, and so gain a new
position.
This was the sort of service Corporal Brom-
ley and Philip Welton had been engaged in
during the early part of the campaign; and
when they remembered the long rains and the
deep mud through which the soldiers marched,
and the wagon-trains foundered and stuck fast,
they were not sorry to be mounted on good
horses and riding over hard roads.
Now that the moon had set, the troopers
mounted again and moved quietly along the
stony road, Andy Zachary, the guide, riding
with the captain at the head of the column.
The deep silence of the forest was on every
hand, broken only by the clicking of iron shoes,
and the occasional foaming and plunging of
a mountain stream down some laurel-choked
gorge. The road wound and turned about,
fording branches, mounting hills, and dipping
down into hollows for an hour, until open fields
began to appear bristling with girdled trees,
and then the wooded side of the huge granite
mountain shot up, towering over the left of the
column. Soon thereafter the forest gave way
to open country, and as the road swept round
the base of the mountain it became a broad


and sandy highway, so that when the horses
trotted out there was only a light jangling of
equipments,-sabers clicking on spurred heels,
and the jingling of steel bits,-and when the
pace was checked to a walk in passing some
dark cabin, only the creaking of the saddles
was heard.
So it was that the troopers stole silently
through the valley of Cashiers, with the solemn
mountain-peaks standing like blind sentinels
above the sparse settlement. Occasionally a
drowsy house-dog roused himself to bark, and
his fellow gave back an answering echo across
the bushy fields; but no one of the sleepers
awoke under the patchwork quilts of many
colors, and the long rifles hung undisturbed
over the cabin doors. Then the troopers ex-
ulted in their cleverness, and laughed softly in
their beards, while the night winds blew over
the roofs of the dark cabins as they passed.
After they were clear of the sandy road in
the settlement, it was a long way up the moun-
tain-side, and the iron shoes of the scrambling
horses clicked on many a rolling stone, and
some sleepy heads caught forty winks as they
climbed and climbed. The cabins disap-
peared, and the fences, and the plow-steers in
the hill pastures rattled their copper bells from
below as the troop got higher; and so it was
lonesome enough on the shaggy mountain, and
every trace of the habitation of man had disap-
peared long before they reached the rickety
old bridge which spanned the deep gorge.
Andy said that this bridge was the only
possible way by which the top of the mountain
could be reached, and that it had been built a
great many years ago by a crazy old man who
once lived on the mountain, but who was long
since dead. It was still too dark to examine
its condition. It could be seen that the near-by
poles of the old railing had rotted away and
fallen into the black chasm below. More than
half of the bridge was swallowed up in the
shadows of the foliage on the other bank.
Away down in the throat of the gorge, where
tall forest-trees grew and stretched their top-
most limbs in vain to reach the level of the
grass and flowers on the fields above them, a
tinkling stream fell over the rocks with a far-
away sound, like the chinking of silver coins in


[Nov.






THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


a vault. The silence above and the murmur
of the water below in the thick darkness were
enough to make the stoutest hearts quail at the
thought of crossing over by the best of bridges,
so the captain prudently decided to wait for
daylight; and as the distance they had gained
above the settlement made the spot a safe en-
campment for a day, he ordered the troopers
to unsaddle.
After feeding the tired horses from the sacks
of oats carried in front of the saddles, the men
lay down on the ground and were soon sleep-
ing soundly under the tall pines which grew
above the bridge-head.

CHAPTER II.

THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.

THE captain and Andy lingered by the
bridge-head, and the three boy-soldiers, who
were to be left behind next day, long as the
march had been, felt no inclination for sleep.
They were too much interested in watching for
the first light by which they could examine
this important approach to their temporary
station.
"I should like to know something more
of the crazy old man who built this crazy old
bridge," said Philip, appealing to Lieutenant
Coleman. Why not ask the guide to tell us ? "
Andy was by no means loath to tell the
story so far as he knew it, which was plain
enough to be seen by the deliberate way in
which he seated himself on a rock. Andy's
audience reclined about him on the dry pine-
needles.
Mountaineers are not given to wasting their
words, and by the extreme deliberation of the
guide's preparations it was sufficiently evident
that something important was coming.
"Thirty years back," said Andy, taking off
his coonskin cap, and looking into it as if he
read there the beginning of his story, and for
that matter down to five year ago, there was a
man by the name of Jo-siah Woodring lived all
by himself in a log-cabin about half-way up
this mountain, and just out o' sight of the trail
we-all come up to-night. He owned right
smart of timber-land and clearin', and made a


crap o' corn every year, besides raisin' 'taters
and cabbage and onions in his garden patch.
He had a copper still hid away somewhere
among the rocks, where he turned his corn
crap into whisky; and when Jo-siah needed any-
thing in the line of store goods he hooked up
his steer and went off, sometimes to Walhalla
and sometimes clean up to Asheville.
Now about a year after Jo-siah settled on
his clearin', about the time he might have been
twenty or thereabouts, when he come back
from one of those same merchandising' trips,
instid of one steer he had a yoke, and along
with him there was a little man a good thirty
year older 'n Jo-siah, an' him walking' a consid-
erable piece behind the cart when they come
through the settlement, same as if the two
wa' n't traveling' together. The stranger was a
dark-complected man, so the old folks say,
and went just a trifle lame as he walked; and
as for his clothes, he was a heap smarter dressed
than the mountain folks. Not that he looked
to care for his dress, for he did n't, not he;
but through the dust of the road, which was
white on him, hit was plain that he wore the
best of store cloth.
"As the cart was plumb empty, hit would
seem that the little man fetched nothing along
with him besides the clothes on his back, and
such other toggery as he may have stowed
away in the cowskin knapsack they do say he
staggered under. If he had any treasure, he
must 'a' toted hit in his big pockets, which, hit
is claimed by some folks now livin', was stuffed
out like warts on an apple-tree, and made him
look as misshapen as he was small.
Now, whether anybody heard the chinkin'
o' gold or not, (which I 'm bettin' free they
did n't), hit looked bad for Jo-siah that this
particular stranger should disappear in his
company, for he was never seen ag'in in the
settlement, or anywhere else, by any human for
a good two year after the night he come trudg-
in' along behind the cart. Hit was natural
enough that the neighbor folks in time began
to suspicion that Jo-siah had murdered the man
for his money, and all the more when he made
bold to show some foreign-lookin' gold pieces
of which nobody knowed the valley.
"They say how feeling' run consid'ble high






THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


in the settlement that year, but hit was only
surmisin' like, for there was no evidence that
would hold water afore a jury of any crime
havin' been committed; and hit all ended in
the valley folks avoidin' Jo-siah like his other
name was Cain and that sort o' treatment
'peared to suit him mighty well. Leastways,
he went on with his plowin' and sowin' and
takin' in his crap, and whistled at the neglect


with the disappearance of the other one, who
was counted for dead.
Now when day comes," said Andy, you-
all will see for yourselves that there is no tim-
ber on the other side o' this here gully tall
enough to make string-pieces for a bridge of
this length; and so the two string-pieces must
have been cut on this side so as to fall across
the chasm pretty much where they were


ANDY TELLS THE STORY OF THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.


of his neighbors, who never came to the clearin'
any more, and in that very year he built this
bridge, with or without the help of the other
one.
"When the bridge was first seen, hit was
stained by the weather, and moss had come to
grow on the poles, and rotten leaves filled the
chinks of the slab floor as if hit had never been
new, and no one cared to ask any questions of
Jo-siah, who kept his own counsel, and seemed
to live more alone than ever. The bridge was
only another mystery connected with the life
of this man that everybody shunned, and no-
body suspicioned that hit had anything to do


wanted. Well, that was how it was; and the
story goes that the man who first saw the
bridge reported, judging by the stumps, that
the right-hand timber had been cut six months
or more before the other one, which might have
been just about the time Jo-siah brought the
stranger home with him, and would easily ac-
count for his disappearance onto the summit of
the mountain, for of course you understand he
was not dead, and Jo-siah the Silent had no
stain of blood on his conscience.
The mountain folks, however, thought dif-
ferent at that time, and looked cross-eyed at the
painted cart drawed by the two slick critters on






TIE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


hits way to the low country. They was quick
to take notice, too, when Jo-siah come back,
that the cart carried more kegs than what hit
had taken away, besides some mysterious-
lookin' boxes and packages. Now this havin'
continued endurin' several half-yearly trips, hit
was the settled idee in the valley that Jo-siah was
a-furnishin' of his cabin at a gait clear ahead
of the insolence, like, of driving' two steers to his
cart when honest mountain folks could n't af-
ford but one. Hit was suspicioned, moreover,
that he was a-doin' this with the ill-got gold of
the old man he had murdered, and the gals
shrugged their shoulders as he passed, for no
one of the gals as knew his goin's-on would set a
foot in his cabin. It leaked out some way that
Jo-siah had been investing' in books, which was
the amazin' and crownin' extravagance of all,
for hit was knowed that he could scarcely read
a line of print or much more 'n write his own
name.
These unjust suspicions of murder and rob-
bery against an innocent man continued to ran-
kle in the minds of the valley folks for more
than two years, until a most surprising' event
took place on the mountain, to the great disap-
pointment and annoyance of those gossips who
had been loudest in their charges against Jo-
siah Woodring. Hit happened that two bear-
hunters from the settlement found themselves
belated in the neighborhood of this very bridge
one September night, and, bein' worn out with
the chase, they sat down to rest in the shadow
of an old chestnut, where they soon fell
asleep. They awoke just before midnight, and
were about to start on down the mountain
when they heard footsteps coming up the trail,
and presently, dark as the night was, they
saw a man with a keg on his shoulder
a-walkin' toward the bridge. The man was
Jo-siah; and after restin' his burden on a stump
and wipin' the sweat from his forehead, he
shouldered hit again and tramped on over the
bridge.
"The hunters were bold men and well
armed, and, having had a good rest, they fol-
lowed the man at a safe distance until he came
to the ledge of rocks which you-all will view for
yourselves by sun-up, and there he was met by
a man with a ladder who stood out on the


rocks above. The hunters noticed that the
stranger was a small man, and just then the
moon came out from behind a cloud, and they
knew him for the little old man who was sup-
posed to have been murdered.
"When the hunters told what they 'd seen
on the mountain, you may believe," said Andy,
" there was right smart excitement in Cashiers,
and some disappointment to find that Jo-siah
was neither a murderer nor a robber. They
went on hating him all the same for driving
two steers to his cart and for having deceived
them so long about the man on the mountain,
and then they started the story that it was
only a slow murder after all. After that, one
day, when Jo-siah had gone away to market,
half a dozen of the valley men, with the two
hunters to guide them, went up the mountain
for the purpose of liberating that poor prisoner
o' Jo-siah's.
They carried a ladder along, and when they
had climbed up the ledge they found a little log
shelter not fit for a sheep-hovel; and as for the
prisoner, he kept out of their way, for it was a
pretty big place, with plenty of trees and rocks
to hide among. Well, as the years went on,
Jo-siah brought back less and less of suspicious
packages in his cart when he came up from
the low country; but it was known that he still
went up the mountain on certain dark nights
with a keg on his shoulder. The strange old
man himself was seen at a distance from time
to time, but at last his existence on the moun-
tain came to be a settled fact and the people
ceased to worry about him.
"Well, five years ago, as I said," continued
Andy, Jo-siah took sick with a fever, and come
down into the settlement to see the doctor; and
he was that bad that the doctor had to go back
with him to drive the cattle. He rallied after
that so as to be about again, and even out
at night; but three months from the time he
took the fever he died. The doctor was with
him at the time, and the night before he
breathed his last he told the doctor that the
little man on the mountain was dead. After
the funeral another party went up to the top
of the mountain, and, sure enough, there was
the grave, just outside of the miserable shelter
he had lived in so long; there was no sign about






THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


the hovel that he ever cooked or ate ordinary
food.
The strangest thing about the whole strange
business," said Andy, getting on to his feet,
"is that there was nothing in Jo-siah's poor
cabin worth carrying away; and if the old man
did n't build this here bridge with his own
hands thirty year ago, hit stands to reason that
he helped Jo-siah."

CHAPTER III.
THE MOUNTAIN OF THE TWENTIETH RED PIN.
A FORTNIGHT before the events described in
the opening chapter of this story, the topo-
graphical officer attached to General Sherman's
headquarters might have been seen leaning
over a table in his tent, busily engaged in stick-
ing red-headed pins into a great map of the
Cumberland and Blue Ridge Mountains. The
pins made an irregular line beginning at Chat-
tanooga, and extending through Tennessee and
North Carolina at no great distance from the
Georgia border. Altogether there were just
twenty of these pins, and each pin pierced the
top of a mountain whose position and altitude
were laid down on the map. After this officer,
who was a lieutenant-colonel, had spent half
the night, by the light of guttering candles, in
arranging and rearranging his pins, he sent in
the morning for the adjutant of' a regiment of
loyal mountaineers. Beginning with the first pin
outside of Chattanooga, he requested the pres-
ence of a mountaineer who lived in the neigh-
borhood of that particular peak. When the
man reported, the colonel questioned him about
the accessibility of the mountain under the first
pin, its distance from that under the second pin,
and whether each peak was plainly visible from
the other. The colonel's questions, which were
put to the soldier in the shade of the fly outside
the tent where the map lay, brought out much
useful information, and much more that was of
no use whatever, because half the questions
were intended to mislead the soldier and con-
ceal the colonel's purpose. Sometimes he
changed a pin after the soldier went away;
and at the end of three days of interviewing
and shifting the positions of his pins, the twen-
tieth red head was firmly fixed above the point


laid down on the map as Whiteside Mountain.
Still a little further along a blue-headed pin
was set up, and then the work of the topo-
graphical officer of the rank of lieutenant-col-
onel was done.
These pins represented a chain of signal-sta-
tions, nineteen of which the captain of cavalry,
with Andy Zachary to guide him, had now es-
tablished one after the other, with as much se-
crecy as the lieutenant-colonel had employed
in selecting the positions. And now the gray
dawn was coming on the side of the twentieth
mountain as Andy finished his story. In fact,
as the last word fell from his lips, a lusty cock
tied on one of the pack-saddles set up a shrill
crow to welcome the coming day. Although
tall pines grew thick about the bridge-head
where the troopers were still sleeping, it was
light enough to see that only low bushes and
gnarled chestnuts grew on the other bank.
The noisy branch kept up its ceaseless churn-
ing and splashing among the rocks far down
in the throat of the black gorge, and the great
height and surprising length of its single span
made the crazy old bridge look more treacher-
ous than ever. It swayed and trembled with
the weight of the captain by the time he had
advanced three steps from the bank, so that he
came back shaking his head in alarm. By this
time the men were afoot, and Andy asked for an
ax, which at the first stroke he buried to its
head in the rotten string-piece.
"Just what I feared," said the captain. "Do
you think I am going to trust my men on that
rotten structure ?"
Andy said nothing in reply, as he kicked off
with his boot a huge growth of toadstools, to-
gether with the bark and six inches of rotten
wood from the opposite side of the log. Then
he struck it again with the head of the ax such
a blow that the old sticks of the railing and
great sections of bark fell in a shower upon the
tree-tops below. The guide saw only conster-
nation in the faces of the men as he looked
around; but there was a smile on his own.
Hit may be old," said Andy, throwing
down the ax, "but there is six inches of tough
heart into that log, and I 'd trust hit with a
yoke o' cattle." With that he strode across to
the other side, and coming back jounced his


rNov.






THE LAST THREE SOLDIERS.


whole weight on the center with only the effect
of rattling another shower of bark and dry fungi
into the gorge.
"Bring me one of the pack-mules," cried
Andy; and presently, when the poor brute ar-
rived at the head of the old causeway, it settled
back on its stubborn legs, and refused to ad-
vance. At this the guide tied a grain-sack
over the animal's eyes, and led him safely
across. Lieutenant Coleman led over the sec-
ond mule by the same device, and Bromley the
third. By this time it was broad daylight, and
the captain detailed three men to help in the
unpacking. These he sent over one at a time,
so that after himself Philip was the last to cross.
Beyond was an open field where blue and
yellow flowers grew in the long, wiry grass,
which was wet with the dew. This grass grew
up through a thick mat of dead stalks, which
was the withered growth of many'years. Un-
der the trees and bushes the leaves had rotted
in the rain where they had fallen, or in the


hollows where they had been tossed by the
wandering winds. There was not a sign of a
trail, nor a girdled tree, nor a trace of fire, nor
any evidence that the foot of man had ever
trodden there. The little party seemed to have
come into an unknown country, and after
crossing the open field they continued climb-
ing up a gentle ascent, winding around rocks
and scraggly old chestnut-trees, until they ar-
rived under the ledge which supported the up-
per plateau. This was found to extend from
the boulder face on the Cove side across to a
mass of shelving rocks on the Cashier's valley
front, and was from thirty to fifty feet in height,
of a perpendicular and bulging fold in the
smooth granite. After a short exploration, a
place was found where the ledge was broken
by a shelf or platform twenty feet from the
ground; and just here, in the leaves and grass
below, lay the rotted fragments of a ladder
which had doubtless been used by the Old Man
of the Mountain himself.


(To be continued.)


II


-1-
4-


9 --


.PROFESSOR LEO FORTISSIMO AT HIS BEST.


,896.]








































By J. EDMUND V. COOKE.


IN ancient Greece, long time ago, a man was
born or, maybe,
I ought to say a god was born -or, better
yet, a baby.
His father's name was Jupiter; Alcmena was
his mother,
Who vowed he was "the sweetest pet," and
"never such another! "
But Juno, queen of all the gods, pretended
not to know it;
She did n't like young Hercules, and straight-
way sought to show it.
She sent two horrid, monstrous snakes, to eat
him in his cradle,
Which reptiles found him sitting eating sugar
with a ladle.
They smiled to see how sweet he 'd be, but
lo! the boy gave battle:
He killed them both, and used their tails to
make a baby-rattle.


Then Juno let him thrive in peace; but, after
he was grown,
He found that she had kept him from a king-
dom and a throne.
Eurystheus obtained these plums, but night
and day was haunted
By tales of mighty Hercules-the hero and
undaunted!
So, after some deep thinking, Eurystheus plan-
ned to send him
To do a dozen labors, any one of which
might end him.

LABOR I.

THE Nemean lion, accustomed to ravage
The country around, being voted too savage,
Our hero was sent to remove him from Earth,
With no arms save the two that he had at
his birth.






THE LABORS OF HERCULES.


Brave Hercules blocks up one hole of the den
And enters the other. A silence, and then
Comes a growl, and a roar, and a rush, and
a shock-




^b 1'r'











Like waves in a tempest they struggle and rock,
Till Hercules wins the renowned "strangle-
lock,"
And the lion goes down like a log or a post,
Repents of his sins, and so gives up the ghost.

LABOR II.
THERE lived at that epoch, according to story,
A terrible monster, whose principal glory
Consisted of heads, which a strict inventory
Declared to be nine; and one of the same
Was as deathless as Jove, so authorities claim.


Nothing daunted, our Hercules went forth to
fight it;
He cut off one head, and two others were
sighted.
And thus the solution appeared to his view:
VOL. XXIV.-6.


"When you take one from one, the result will
be two."
Rather taken aback, but still thoroughly game,
He called his hired help, Iolaus by name.
Then he shaved off the heads as a man would
a beard,
And the necks (by his servant) were carefully
seared,
Till the deathless head soon was left grinning
alone,
And that one he buried beneath a big stone.

LABOR III.
THE Arcadian stag was a curious kind,
Golden-horned, brazen-hoofed, and could out-
run the wind;
Whoever pursued him was soon left behind.


The mandate was given to capture him living,
So our hero set out without any misgiving.
All over the kingdom he followed the brute,
Till a year was consumed in the useless
pursuit.
"Confound you!" said Hercules, seizing his bow,
"I 've got something here which I '11 wager
can go
As fast as two stags." And it proved to be so.
The arrow succeeded in laying him low.
The wound was n't fatal, so Hercules caught
him,
And into the king's haughty presence he
brought him.

LABOR IV.
THE boar of Erymanthus was de trop,
Which is Frehch for saying how
Bores are looked on, even now.






THE LABORS OF HERCULES.


,y. .




Our hero ran the rascal through the snow,
Snared him neatly in a net,
Picked him up, like any pet,
And took him to the Capital, to add him tc
the show.

LABOR V.


AUGEAS, King of Elis, it appears,
Had several thousand oxen in his stable,
But had n't cleaned the place for thirty years.,
The hard taskmaster heard, pricked up his
ears,
And cried, Ho, ho! my Hercules, you 're
able
To do great things. I give you just one day
For this spring cleaning." Stranger to dismay,
Our hero sought the stables of Augeas,
Turned into them the river named Alpheus,
And reinforced it with the swift Peneus.

These brooms soon swept the dirt away, you
have my word.
Perhaps they swept the stables with it. That
I have n't heard.


LABOR VI.

THE Stymphalian birds were a horrible lot,
And everyone thought
That they ought
To be shot;











)lo



191 q j~~B '


Yet no one could do it, till Hercules brought
His little snake-rattle to set them to flying,
And then popped them over by only half try-
ing.
LABOR VII.

A BULL, sent by Neptune to die in his honor,
Not having been killed, was made mad by the
donor.
Eurystheus must have been running a Zoo,"
And having the stag and the boar, wanted, too,
The mad bull of Crete; so he ordered "Go,
get him!"


5_.-





Though Hercules never so much as had met
him.
S But the hero set sail,
S Grabbed the bull by the tail,






x896.] THE LABORS C

And took him to Hellas; but not for 'the
Garden,
For, having arrived, he then (begging his par-
don
Because he had given his tail such a pull)
Set him free -and all Greece was as mad as
the bull.

LABOR VIII.
DIOMEDES
Used to feed his
Mares on human flesh.
Hercules just cut him up,
Found the mares inclined to sup,
And fed him to them, fresh.
'T was a most successful plan,
Though before they liked a man
More than oats or anything,


Bg '


Strange to say, this master di
Made them docile, kind, and
To be taken to the king.


)F HERCULES. 43

The queen was a traitress, and covertly
wrought







) 1bor


'vt^ ^<^


S To undo him; so, seizing the girdle he sought,
S N He slew her, and thus was it bloodily bought.
bo rJm Which shows that a man may be brave as
S the best,
5omnades And yet ungallant when it comes to a test.


LABOR X.

GERYONES had a fine herd of red cattle,
With a two-headed dog and a giant, to battle
SWith any who trespassed upon his domain.
Dog, owner, and keeper, were met and were
slain,
Yet Hercules still had to fight heavy odds
et (A number of men and a parcel of gods);
quiet, But in spite of them all, he conducted the
string


LABOR IX.

THE Amazon queen had a beautiful belt.
'T was given by Mars; and the queen justly
felt
Quite proud of the trifle; but Hercules started
To see if the belt and queen could n't be
parted.
At first it appeared he had only to ask
To receive it; but this was too easy a task
To please Mrs. Juno, who stirred up a bolt
In the ranks of the Amazons.' When the re-
volt
Was reported to Hercules, he rather thought


' /-






THE LABORS OF HERCULES.


Of handsome red beasts to his brute of a
king.

LABOR XI.

WHEN Juno was married, the goddess of Earth
Presented some apples of excellent worth,
Made all of fine gold


From the smooth, shiny skin to the pips in
the core.
(Alas! I am told
Such beautiful apples don't grow any more.)

But wealth is a worry. Nobody need doubt it,
Unless, like myself, he is always without it.
And Juno was worried until she grew pale;
Her nectar was flat, her ambrosia was stale.
The fear of a burglar had entered her head,
And so every night she looked under the bed.
No matter what Jupiter argued or said,
She 'd wake him at midnight, to vow and
declare
There must be an apple-thief round about
there.
At last, growing tired of the worry and wear,
She placed them in care
Of the sisters Hesperides, living just where
The sun sets at night.
Our hero met Atlas, who held up the height
Of the heavens in air,
And a bargain was struck that the hero should
bear
The dome for a while, and the action should
earn
The apples, which Atlas brought back in return.
Though I can't understand


Why a chap with a chance to steal apples at
hand,
Scot-free of all blame,
Should so lose his head
As to give up his claim
And let somebody else do it for him instead.


LABOR XII.

PLUTO, in his world below,
Had a great three-headed beast
Called a dog. Perhaps 't was so,
But I doubt his breed, at least.
House-dog? Hardly. Poison-drops
Fell from out his gaping chops,
And his fangs were sharp as hate,
And he guarded Pluto's gate.

Hercules was told to fetch
This repulsive, savage wretch.
Hercules with little fuss
Seized the snarling Cerberus,
Took him to the Earth from Hades,
Scared the king in playful sport,
Showed him round to all the court,
Made him bark for all the ladies.
Then the hero let him go,
And he sank to realms below,
One head growling,
One head howling,
One head yowling,
As mythology rehearses.


And the fun
Of the Labors-all was done.

So are these doggerel verses.


~-~ --------
----~
i=- ----
~---?--~-
T


b























F you ever walk around the
Swater-front of a large com-
mercial city and look
Closely at the big ocean
steamships and sailing
ships moored along the
wharves, you will notice
that many of them have a
white circle and a lot of white
lines marked on their sides, close to the water,
almost as if some bad boy had been chalking a
picture there of a griddle-cake and a gridiron;
but when you find that hundreds of ships are
marked just the same way, those painted light
colors having the marks in black, you know.
that those marks really mean something of im-
portance in connection with the ships on which
you see them. If you should notice more
closely you would soon discover that all the
ships belonging to Great Britain, even the mag-
nificent passenger-steamers like the Lucania"
and Teutonic," were marked with those queer
signs, and that ships of no other nation had
them. If you were to ask some sailor what
the mark meant he would tell you briefly that
it is the Plimsoll Mark," and you would be no
wiser than before; in fact, he probably would
not know much more than that bare fact himself.
That ugly mark, however, is the safeguard
to hundreds of vessels on the stormy ocean,
and to thousands of lives, and to millions of
dollars' worth of freight. It has only been in
use about twenty years, only properly used for
the last ten years, and is still adopted by only
one great seafaring nation in all the world.
Twenty-five years ago it was no' uncommon


thing for ships to go out to sea laden with val-
uable cargo and hopeful human beings, never
to be seen or heard of again. People on shbre,
even the owners of the cargo and relatives of
the passengers, would take it as something they
must be prepared to expect on account of the
dangers of the ocean. Finally, one man deter-
mined to make a study of the subject, and see
if such terrible tragedies were really unavoid-
able. He was an inflexible Englishman, named
Plimsoll, and a member of Parliament. He
spent day after day along the docks watching
ships loading and unloading, coming in and
going out; he talked with ship-owners, captains,
and sailors. He saw ships sent to sea with
leaky bottoms, rotten spars, and worn-out rig-
ging, with rusty boilers and rattle-trap engines.
He saw them loaded until even in the still
waters of the harbor their upper decks were
down to the water's edge, and this overloading
seemed to be the worst and most frequent fault.
Then he went back to Parliament, and intro-
duced a bill to put a mark on the sides of ships
to show how deeply they could with safety be
loaded. The mark suggested was a circle with
a horizontal line through its center. When this
horizontal line was down to the water's edge,
no more freight was to be put into a vessel;
she was to' be considered loaded. Immediately
Plimsoll brought down upon himself the wrath
of ship-owners, while everybody else laughed at
his cranky idea; but he was not going to be
silenced. He published a book telling all he
had learned about the criminal overloading of
vessels, and their wretched condition when sent
to sea. At last he got a vague sort of an act


Ar -LSR-k-a






THE PLIMSOLL MARK.


passed, giving the Board of Trade power to
survey ships going to sea, and to stop those
which seemed to be unseaworthy. This was in
1873, and during the first nine months of the
act 286 vessels were surveyed, and 256 of them
found unseaworthy. At least one in every ten
was found to be so dangerously overloaded
as to be in almost a sinking condition before
leaving the dock. Of course, this opened the
eyes of the Board of Trade and of Parliament,
and Plimsoll's mark became an established fea-
ture on British sea-going ships; but its estab-
lishment was fought against by ship-owners,
inch by inch. It was nicknamed the "pan-
cake," and ridiculed and treated with contempt
in every way. Some ship-owners put the mark
on their smoke-stacks in defiance and derision.
Plimsoll held to his idea, however, even get-
ting himself suspended from the House of Com-
mons one day for being too blunt and violent
in his plain talk upon the subject. The result
was "The Merchant-Shipping Act of 1876,"
making the Plimsoll Mark compulsory on all
British sea-going vessels, and requiring its po-
sition to be fixed, not by the ship-owners, but
by the Board of Trade.
The fight being over, and the mark estab-
lished, it was gradually modified and adapted
to suit different seasons and different waters.
A "Load-Line Committee," in 1885, made
rules for determining its location, and prepared
tables figured out to simplify the application of
the rules. Another merchant-shipping act was
passed in i890, and under it the regulations
in force to-day were made by the Board of
Trade, and went into effect December i, 1892.
The original Plimsoll Mark, established by
the Act of 1876, was the disk with the horizon-
tal line through its center, the upper edge of
the horizontal line indicating the depth to
which a vessel could be loaded for a summer
voyage in salt water. It is placed half-way
between the bow and stern of a ship, and at a
height on her side determined by calculations
based upon her length, breadth, depth, and
tonnage. The additional lines for different sea-
sons and waters came into use gradually after
1876, and are fixed by the regulations of 1892.
A vertical line one inch wide is marked
twenty-one inches forward of the center of the


disk. The load-line for fresh water is marked
from .the top of this line toward the stern, and
the load-lines for different seasons are marked
from the vertical line toward the bow. These
lines are horizontal, one inch broad and nine
inches long, and ships can be loaded until the
upper edge of the proper load-line is level with
the water; the lines being marked at the same
height on both sides of the ship. These lines and
marks are shown in the diagram on this page.
The marks are not only painted, but cut or scored
into the wood or iron of the ship's side, so that
if the paint is rubbed off the mark can be found.
Initial letters are marked at the ends of the
lines to tell for what season or condition each
line is intended. Thus F. W. means fresh
water, I. S. means Indian summer, S. means
summer, W. means winter, and W. N. A. means
winter, North Atlantic. Steamships have all
of these marks which are suitable to the nature
of their employment, but sailing ships, beside
the disk, have only the marks for fresh water
and North Atlantic winter.

FOR STEAMER.
Starboard Side.
FWIs






Port Side.
IS FW

~S WN
W
WNA


,.


FOR SAILING VESSEL.
Starboard Side.


WNA ,
Port Side.


* -

1 -


WNAFO






z896.1 THE PLIMS(
When a British merchant ship is completed,
or a foreign-built ship is purchased to run under
the British flag, her builder or owner makes
application to the Board of Trade for a Cer-
tificate of Approval of the position of a load-
line disk, and states in his application where
the vessel's dimensions are registered, and in
what waters she is going to trade. The ship
is then visited by an officer of the Board of
Trade, who takes with him copies of the tables
for determining the position of the disk. He then
makes a little calculation by the official rule.
The lines and disk are then marked on the
ship's side, and a certificate issued to the owner
stating in detail their position. This certificate
can be found framed and hung in a conspicu-
ous place on all British sea-going vessels. The
junction of the upper deck with the ship's side
is usually marked on the outside of the ship by
a white mark like 'the load-line marks, and the
distance from this junction down to the center
of the load-line disk is called the freeboard. By
the upper deck is meant the highest deck which
extends out to the ship's sides in all directions.
The summer load-line can be used in north


OLL MARK. 47
latitudes from April to September inclusive, and
in south latitudes during the other half of the
year. The North Atlantic winter load-line must
be used in that ocean north of the latitude of
Baltimore, from October to March inclusive.
The Indian summer load-line refers to summer
in the Indian Ocean.
You wonder, no doubt, why no other country
has adopted the Plimsoll Mark. At the Inter-
national Marine Conference which sat in Wash-
ington in 1889, a committee was appointed to
consider the feasibility of all countries adopting
the mark, but after carefully considering the
subject they made a vague report to the effect
that" the time is not yet ripe." In this respect,
other nations are at least twenty years behind
Great Britain.
Samuel Plimsoll has dropped out of politics
and out of public view, but to him will ever be
given the credit and honor of saving countless
human lives, and property beyond estimate,
year after year till the end of time, and the day
will come when his curious and much-ridiculed
mark will be stamped like a great seal of safety
upon every ship that sails the ocean.


A LOVE-SONG-TO JOHN.


BY LAURA E. RICHARDS.


WHEN I think about him, I laugh, and say,
"John, dear John! "
The thought of him sets my heart at play--
John, dear John!
And as I wander along the street,
And look at the boys and girls I meet,
I see that there 's never a one so sweet
As John, dear John.

A beauty? Hardly! His hair is red;
His figure is like a feather-bed;
When one of his hugs I must endure,
I think the bears have got me, sure!
And feel to see if my ribs are fewer-
John, dear John!


His boots are generally out at the toe;
Where his mittens hide we never know;
His pockets are full of string and crumbs,
His fingers are every one of them thumbs,
And he likes ST. NICHOLAS better than sums-
John, dear John!

But I think 't is the love that shines in his face-
John, dear John!
That lends it a little of Heaven's grace-
John, dear John!
And if I were offered the world, for choice
Of something to make my heart rejoice,
I 'd choose the sound of his dear old voice-
John, dear John!











THE BICYCLE RACE.


By WALTER CAMP.


WHY
can't I
have a bi-
cycle, moth-
er ?" said seven-
teen-year-old Jack
SDare to his still pretty
but gray-haired mother, as he stood whirling
his school-books by the strap threateningly close
to the light little sewing-table that stood in the
sitting-room.
Because your father cannot possibly afford
it, Jack. You know he was ill so long after
that failure five years ago that what little money
we had was all used up, and he can hardly af-
ford now to keep you in school instead of put-
ting you to work," said his mother.
"I wish he would put me to work. I 'm
tired of seeing you and him work so hard all
the time; and I could earn a good deal, I
know."
"But my boy," and the fond tone grew
softer, "you know he wants to have you go to
college, and is saving every cent for that."
Jack Dare was in the junior class at Queen's
school, and would graduate in a little over a
year. The school-was one of the best in the
country, and although Jack lived at home the


expense of keeping him at Queen's was quite a
tax upon the family purse,
What makes you so eager for a bicycle just
now, Jack? You never seemed to care very
much for the one you had two years ago."
Oh! but that was a heavy old thing. It
weighed over fifty pounds, mother, and nobody
could ride that fast."
"But why should you want to ride fast,
child ? "
Why, you see, mother, we're going to have
a meeting that 's races with Oriel school in
three weeks, and I want to try for the bicycle
race. When I had that old wheel I used to
beat some of the other fellows, and I 've tried
their new wheels sometimes when I had a
chance, and I 'm pretty sure I could get a
place, for we can enter three men for that
event."
So that is what the new demand for a bicy-
cle means, is it? Well, Jack, I wish you had
one, but it is out of the question. Could n't
you get the old one repaired so that it would
do? "
"No, mother dear, I could n't. The new
wheels racers ride now weigh less than twenty
pounds; and what chance do you suppose I 'd
have against them ? "
But would n't some one of the boys lend
you his, just for the race ? They will not want
their bicycles while the race is going on, I sup-
pose."
"But don't you see, mother, I can't get a
chance to make the team-to be chosen-
unless I have a wheel to practise on. There
are a dozen fellows who can ride as fast as I can
now because I have n't had a show to get used
to these light wheels, but I know that in a week
or two I could."
"There, there, run along, Jack, and don't
think of it any more- that's the way. You'll
study all the more if you don't have any bicy-






THE BICYCLE RACE. 49
cle to think of," said Mrs. Dare, and Jack wheels, will you? We 're going to have a
walked out without another word. trial."
But he could not help thinking about it, and Jack jumped over into the track, and as Al-
in the afternoon he went over to the track where len came up to the line held his wheel for him
the boys had begun practising for
the coming games. The bicycle -
men did not practise until
the others had gone, -l I
there were only a few left
to look on when the wheel.. ,
men went on to the course. .
Jack was a very popu.-
lar boy in the school, even
though he was known to '
be poor. The boys though:
none the less of him for
that, though most of the rn '

does not have to study "
economy. Their pa-
rents wisely kept Y, ,
down their allow-
ances within ordi-
nary limits, but they
wore better clothes,
and had many things
that Jack had to go
without.
Among the bi-
cyclists was Allen preparatory
Thorne, one of the t to the sttart.
best riders in school; All ready,
and Thorne was ,o! and
looked upon as the %k iith a care-
only likely match ful shove
for Joe Wheeler of lack started
Oriel, who had a ln, Iairly upon his course.
wonderful reputa- Arun, the tra.k they
tion for spurting, and erint, rir-t one setting the
whose record .was p:,ce, ticfln .i!noher, but all
better than Thorne's. perfectly well aware that
Jack had sometimes when Thorne let himself
ridden with Thorne "'IT 'S YOUR DUTY TO THE SCHOOL,' SAID WRIGHT." out he would leave them
when they were (SEE PAGE 50.) all standing. And so he
both in the fourth class at Queen's; but that did. On the last lap he swung out wide on
was two years ago, when wheels were far the turn, and, passing the rest, went flying up
heavier and tires poorer. How Jack envied the straight, around to the up-curve, and down
Allen as he watched him slipping his toes toward the finish like the wind, gaining at every
into the clips! Here, Jack," Thorne called second and finishing with a hundred yards be-
out, come over and hold one of these tween him and Haddon, who was the next man.
VOL. XXIV.- 7-8.





THE BICYCLE RACE.


How it made Jack's heart thump to see Thorne
come, and how his legs fairly twitched under
him as he imagined his own feet on the pedals !
"The trouble with you, Haddon," Wright, a
graduate of the school, and one of the riders for
Yale, was saying by way of coaching when
they finished, "is that you know Thorne can
out-spurt you, and you lose all heart as soon
as he lets out. You can learn to go very
nearly as fast as he can, if you 'd only believe
it, and half try. You want some one to pace
you every day whom you 're not afraid of-
some man who can ride just as fast as Thorne,
perhaps; but if you don't think he can, you '11
keep up with him. Now, the rest of this set
are all too slow for you, and you 're just getting
worse and worse; and, first you know, our sec-
ond string will not be in it, and both seconds
and thirds are going to count, you know."
Thorne had dismounted, and had been listen-
ing to all this. Of course he was pleased at be-
ing the best rider in the school, and having it so
frankly confessed; but he was also very anxious
to have their team beat Oriel in the games,
and, besides, it looked as if the points in the
bicycle race were going to determine the final
issue.
Suddenly a thought struck him. Why don't
you have a try at it, Jack ? You used to ride
years ago, I know, for you and I had many
brushes when we first came to school."
Oh, I don't ride any more," stammered
Jack.
"But you 'd soon get into it again," said
Thorne. "Here, take my wheel, and have a
try at it."
Jack hesitated; but Wright said: If you
can ride at all, it 's your duty to the school to
do it, young man."
That settled it. He would have just one
turn, anyway. So he ran into the dressing-
room, stripped to his undershirt, and, slipping
on an old pair of running-trunks, came out.
"He 's got a good leg," he heard Wright say,
as he came across the track. "Let's see you
ride a bit first," Wright continued, as Jack
mounted the slender wheel. The thing was so
much more sensitive .than his old machine, and
he had had so few chances to mount a really light
wheel, that for some minutes he felt completely


at sea. But Wright, who had mounted another
wheel, and was riding by his side, told him not
to be nervous, to take it easy at first, and then
fell to coaching him until, after ten minutes, he
went better. Then Wright called out to Had-
don to come up: "Now here, Dare, I want to
see you ride alongside him once around, and
then on the second lap, Haddon, you spurt,
and come away from him." And, sure enough,
on the second lap Haddon spurted, and al-
though Jack did all he could, Haddon came
away from him and finished forty yards ahead.
Jack pounded as hard as he could, but he
felt he was not getting nearly as much out of
himself as he should, and that he could go
much faster when he had become better used
to the wheel.
"There," said Wright, "don't you see all
you lack is confidence, Haddon? This fellow
rides fast, and will ride faster; and the thing
for you both to do is to have one or two
brushes every afternoon."
Then Jack felt called upon to speak up.
I 'm sorry, sir, but I can't come out," said
he mournfully.
Why not ? said Wright.
"I have to work at home three afternoons
every week," he said; "and besides I have n't
any wheel."
"Well, I '11 tell you what I '11 do," said
Wright. "I 'll send you down my wheel--
the one I rode last season. I 've a new one,
and if you can't get out every day, you come
out when you can, and give Haddon practice."
Jack could hardly believe his ears at this of-
fer, for Wright was the best rider at Yale, and
his old wheel was sure to be very nearly as
good as any in Queen's school. Jack fairly
walked on air all the way home, and as soon
as he opened the door he rushed to his mother
with the joyful news. She was as pleased as
he over it, but made him promise to be very
careful of Wright's wheel lest it be broken.
"For," said she, "you know, Jack, if you
should break it, your father would insist upon
replacing it, and I don't see how in the world
we could spare the money."
From that time on, three afternoons every
week Jack was out on the track, for Wright's
wheel had come down the very next day, and






THE BICYCLE RACE.


proved to be the one on which he had won the
last Harvard-Yale race.
For the first week Haddon could still pull
away from Jack, but it was harder each day
for him, and the gap was not a wide one. In
the second week Wright came down again, and
as he devoted most of his time to Haddon,
Jack felt a little grieved; but just as Wright
was leaving, he came over to Jack and said
kindly, "You 're improving, Dare, and I want
you to take good care of yourself. You may
be needed."
How Jack's heart thumped at those words!
True, the third place was supposed to be
Green's, but Green had been off two weeks,
and it was his absence that had made a chance
for some one else. That evening Thorne came
over to Jack's house and told him that Wright
said that Jack was to come to training-table
on the following Wednesday-which was just
one week from the day of the games. Jack
could hardly sleep that night for thinking of
it. In two days he was to go to training-table.
He had had only a little over a week on the
new wheel, and he was just beginning to get
the hang of it. It was a pleasure to see him
ride, for he was very strong in the legs, and
rode more steadily than any of the rest except
Thorne.
The next day, as he went over to the track,
he met Green, who had just returned. His
heart fell a little, but he plucked up his spirits
as he thought, Green is only just as good as
Haddon, and I 'm pretty close to Haddon
now." As soon as they all came out, Wright,
who had agreed to see them once more, said,
I am going to send you fellows just as if you
were in the race to-day, and I 'm going to ride
myself, and you can think I 'm Oriel's best
man Wheeler."
At first Jack had visions of his having to give
up his wheel to Wright, but no--Wright had
brought down his own; and as he mounted
and moved smoothly along down the track he
was the envy of every boy there. Presently all
were ready, and they lined up on the mark,
each wheel held by some boy, ready for the
start.
Wright gave them a word or two of instruc-
tion. He told Haddon that he wanted him to


set the pace for Thorne, and to keep it hot, too,
for the first mile, and then that Jack should go
up and carry it, if he could, for another lap.
"Then," he said, "as soon as Thorne goes up,
the rest of you all ride it out as hard as you
can, and finish as close to him as you know
how--if you can beat him out you need n't
hesitate about doing it."
So they rode according to instructions; and,
of course, when Thorne went up, Wright went
with him, and the rest had no chance with them.
But Green and Haddon and Jack had a hot
time of it, and as they came down the straight
Jack pedaled his hardest, and got the place by
a yard. It was something of a surprise to
Green, for he had not been out since Jack
began riding, but Haddon seemed quite de-
jected. Green rode over to Jack, and called out
good-naturedly, Congratulate you. Looks
as though Haddon and I would have to fight
it out for the third place."
For the next day or two Wright gave Jack a
good deal of coaching, and Thorne also helped
him. He felt that' he was riding better every
minute under their hints, and the wheel seemed
more a part of him. He told his mother that
night of his victory, and that it would probably
give him a chance at the team. She was only
too ready to rejoice with him, and said he could
take all his afternoons until the day of the
meeting.
Jack was rapidly acquiring an ability to
spurt, and, with Wright and Thorne by his side,
the three would come down the straight fairly
even until Wright let himself out. Then Jack
and Thorne would have it at a great rate, and
the former was very nearly able, at times, to
hold Thorne. He could not quite get that last
pound or two, however, and Thorne's wheel
would slowly but surely push clear of him.
Haddon had become quite discouraged after
Jack had beaten him, and Green was chosen
as the third man. He was riding well, and
could be relied upon to keep very close to
Jack, although, since Jack had learned how to
spurt, Green could n't stay up with him long.
The great feature of Jack's 'spurting was that,
now he had once acquired the hang of it, he
could keep up his spurt in a most remarkable
way. If they would only ride fast from the


1896.]






THE BICYCLE RACE.


very start Jack always seemed nearly as strong
as Thorne.
So the days slipped by until the afternoon
of the meeting. The night before, Jack had
dreamed of riding a race uphill, and awoke
only to find himself nearly out of bed. The
games were held on the Winsor track, a very
good one, and especially good for the bicycle
races, because it had been built for that pur-
pose. All the townspeople were out, for the
rivalry between the two schools was great, and
each spectator was an ardent partizan. The
orange and white of Oriel was matched by the
red and gray of Queen's, and long before the
games began the cheering and waving of flags
had become general. Presently the hundred-
yard dash was called, and Jack felt his heart
come into his throat as he looked up the track
from the piazza of the dressing-room and saw
the men get on their marks. He hardly re-
membered a thing from that moment on until
Wright came into the dressing-room and called
out," Now, you bicycle fellows, the whole thing
hangs on you. Five points tie, and six win
for us -you 've just got to get it. Now re-
member all I 've told you. If they don't get
off fast, you, Green, go out and set the pace for
the first three laps. If Wheeler moves up be-
fore that, you go up with him, Jack. Thorne,
you keep easy until the next to the last lap.
Then ride as you never rode before. And,
Jack and Green, you both remember that we
need six points to win that 's first and third
places. If Thorne can get the first, you
certainly between you can get that one for
third."
But there was no time for more. The bicy-
cle entries were called, and all three boys, with
Wright, went out with their wheels. Wheeler
was already there, riding down the track easily
and gracefully. The other two of the Oriel
boys were coming around on the other side.
Jack thought neither of them looked very
strong, but then, you can't tell in a bicycle
race, he reflected. Soon all were getting lined
up. Jack's legs shook a little with excitement
as he was placing his toes in the clips, but
the boy who was holding him whispered,
"Steady, Jack; you '11 be all right." Wright
was holding Thorne, of course, but he had


managed to give Jack a pat on the back as
he passed that did Jack good.
Now all was ready, and in another instant
the pistol cracked and off they went on their
two-mile journey. In a few seconds it was
evident that the Oriel men wanted to have the
race a slow one, for none of them went up to
set the pace. Green, therefore, went to the
front and began hitting it up in a pretty lively
fashion. Wheeler hung on Thorne's right. Two
laps were reeled off in this way, and the pace
that Green was setting was not a bit to the
liking of the Oriel men. In fact, Jack was the
only man whom it really suited, though Thorne
preferred it to a loafing race.
Green 's carrying them along at an awful
clip," said Wright. I did n't expect him to
hit it up quite so high. However, it is hurting
Wheeler just as much as it is Thorne, and Dare
can stand more than anybody else in the lot,"
he added reflectively, as they spun around into
the third lap. Wright called out Good! as
they swung by, and we afterward learned that
Green thought he said Go it! and took it as
special advice to him to set the pace up higher.
He said in his good-natured way later in the
evening that he fancied he must have been
riding too easy, and as he wanted to oblige
Wright all he could, he set his teeth and
pounded harder. The way they all whirled
around this lap was killing, and it effectually
disposed of the two tail-enders from Oriel, as
that group of four distanced them, Green lead-
ing, Thorne and Wheeler hanging on to his
rear wheel, and Jack, with every bit of speed
he had in him, sticking to them. Thus they
entered the fourth lap. Now Jack, remember-
ing his instructions,- namely, that at that point
he was to relieve Green and set the pace, began
to wonder whether he was likely to catch Green
at all. He had n't been doing much looking
round thus far, for he saw those two rear wheels
of Thorne and Wheeler keeping just about so
far ahead of him, no matter how hard he
pushed, and he knew Green was somewhere
up ahead. When, however, they came into the
straight on this fourth lap, Jack set sail for the
lead, and coming up level with Wheeler, finally
crept up with Green, and was passing him when
Green's wheel began to wabble. Before he






THE BICYCLE RACE.


could steady himself, Thorne, who was between
Green and Wheeler, felt his wheel just touch
Green's, and over he went with a crash. He
sprang to his feet, seized his wheel, and tried to
mount; but the bicycle was a wreck, and it was
useless.
A great cry went up from the throats of the
Queen's boys as they saw Jack, Wheeler, and
Green riding on alone, the latter dropping be-
hind gradually, while there on the track stood


Green who had fallen, when, just as he came
down the stretch, Wright called out: Thorne
is gone Ride it out! and as Jack started in
on that sixth lap it gradually dawned upon
him that Thorne had fallen, and that he was
left alone with Wheeler. At first he felt queer
in the pit of the stomach; but as he pedaled
on he seemed to be getting rested, and he
could hear the shouts of the boys as he passed,
-"Go it, Dare! Dare! Dare!"- and this


DARE AND WHEELER AT THE FINISH.


their champion Thorne, with the wreck of his
wheel and the wreck of their hopes. Presently
came the last two men, who, having been hope-
lessly run out of it, now took on new courage
at Thorne's accident, and pushed along, hoping
to see Green coming back to them before the
finish.
Jack had heard the crash, but had not dared
to look around. He had supposed that it was


made him feel that he would never let Wheeler
pass him.
He was just thinking this as they came into
the seventh lap; and as they rounded the turn
he saw something come like a flash between
himself and the pole, and pass him, and then
he knew that that streak was Wheeler, and
he could hear the grand stand- Wheeler!
Wheeler! Oriel! He put on all his power,


_-/ (V


--------------


1896.]






THE BICYCLE RACE.


and went after him. For a minute he did n't
raise his head; then he looked forward, and
there was Wheeler just rounding the head of
the track, but not much farther ahead than the
distance he must have picked up just in that
moment when he flashed by, and caught Jack
by surprise. Then Jack settled down to work
again, setting his teeth grimly, as he thought of
that last quarter mile yet to go in which he
must catch that man ahead. Then he heard
the bell ring, and knew that Wheeler had be-
gun the last lap. As he, too, passed the bell,
he heard Wright call out again: "Go in,
Dare!" and he gripped his handle-bars, and
fairly jumped ahead. Then the crowd saw
that Dare was gaining- Dare .Dare! an-
swered the Wheeler! Wheeler!"
Half the last lap was over, and Dare was
almost by the side of the Oriel man. Now
came the question of endurance. Both were


spurting for all they were worth; but so they
had been before. Which would hold it out the
longest to reach the line ? Jack was gaining;
but he would have a longer sweep to make on
the turn, as Wheeler had the pole. Now they
reach the curve, and this tells. Jack's wheel
falls back a little, but in the next instant, as
they come into the straight, he comes level again
and they fly on to the finish. A hundred yards
from home there is no choice. Then, with a last
effort, Jack's wheel gives just two or three lit-
tle jumps forward, as it were, and he has won by
three feet!
He can hardly check himself, and almost
falls into the arms of his friends at the end of
the straight. And, best of all, what is this that
comes down the track behind the pair who have
just finished ? It is old Green, with just enough
left in him, after all, to finish third, and get that
needed odd point and Queen's has won!


A WONDER-WORKER.

BY CHRISTOPHER VALENTINE.


I WAs standing one afternoon on a corner in
one of the miserably crowded neighborhoods
that are to be found in our large cities, and as
I looked along the sidewalk, I pitied the chil-
dren. There were throngs of them--poor, list-
less, prematurely old-looking little things who
had no other place for their play than the few
nooks and corners left by their busy, hard-fea-
tured elders. The children were sitting on the
door-steps, leaning against the railings, crawling
over boxes and barrels, hanging to wagons,
clinging to hydrants, but in no case did they
seem to be having any real playtime.
I wish I could do something to make these
children happy -if only for a little while," I
thought; but that is out of the question."
Just then something ran up against me, and
a voice said pleasantly, "La miperdoni !"
Turning, I saw a man pushing a piano-organ.
It seemed to have been sent by some fairy


godmother, in answer to my wish. I drew
a little money from my pocket, and said:
"Play for the children to dance."
A bright smile lighted up the swarthy face,
the organ was halted, that mysterious brass peg
on the side of the instrument adjusted, the
handle was turned, and the notes of a brisk
waltz charged like an army of fairies upon the
discordant imp noises of the street.
And you should have seen the children!
They sprang to their feet, some alone, some
with partners, and whirled, like bright autumn
leaves driven by the wind. Long faces shortened
and broadened into smiles, and bits of song were
heard.
I left them dancing.
And as I went on, I wondered why, in the
parks opened for children's playgrounds, it would
not be a good plan to hire a few piano-organ
men to play, so that the children could dance.













































WY





4ji


"THE CHILDREN TOOK PARTNERS AND WHIRLED LIKE BRIGHT AUTUMN LEAVES DRIVEN BY THE WIND."
55


I- ~clwrf~"~;'E~

~" T
J ~~
,~PPj
~4~! ~p~


1" -7





........









"NANCY."
(A true story.)


By MARY BRADLEY.


"'ATTENTION, PUSS! SEE HERE A MINUTE!'"

MY brother Ned, who has a fancy And mother thought it rather risky:
For pets of all sorts, brought one day For cats are fond of fish, my dear,
Some goldfish to the room where Nancy And kittens can't help being frisky-
With her four kits beside her lay. I would n't put temptation near."






NANCY."
But the glass bowl with water brimming
Stood all a-sparkle in the light,
And round and round the goldfish swirillnii'.
Were really such a pretty sight
That Ned protested: "I shall teach har
They 're not for her to touch," he iu.l;
And lifting up the purring creature,
He tapped her smartly on the hea.

"Attention, Puss! See here a minute,''-
As Nancy squirmed beneath his
thumb,-
"These fish are mine, and you 're
not in it!
You '11 catch what Paddy gave
the drum,
And more besides, first time I find
you
So much as winking at 'em. See ?
Just tuck that in your noddle,
mind you,
And keep a sharp lookout for me!"


He put her down, all rough and
fluffy,
And Nancy gave herself a shake,
And marched off, tail up, mighty
huffy,
But looking very wide awake.
"She knows which side her bread
is buttered!"
Laughed Ned: "She knows the goose
hangs high!"
But mother still her warning uttered,
"She '11 eat those goldfish by and by."

" Not she! And he declared he 'd risk it.
"Why, Nancy was nobody's fool;
He 'd bet his head against a biscuit
She would n't! so ran off to school.
For some domestic thing or other
There came, in Bridget's dulcet tone,
Soon afterward, a call for mother,-
And then the cat was left alone.

Straightway, perceiving she was able
Her little plan to carry out,
Nancy just leaped upon the table,
And took the kittens, turn about.
Then showing them the fish, precisely
As Ned had shown them her before,


NANCY WARNS HER KITTENS.
She boxed each pair of ears quite nicely,
And set them back upon the floor.

If Mother had not seen her do it,-
(The door was open just a crack,
And she could easily peep through it
As to the room she hurried back),-
You might n't give the story credit;
But every word is just as true
As if George Washington had said it,
And done it with his hatchet, too.

Another thing is true as surely,
That, unmolested from that day,
The goldfish swim around securely,
And not a kit will wink their way.
Ned laughs when people talk about it,
And answers, just as cool as cool,
He knew quite well enough, without it,
That Nancy was nobody's fool.

























"'HOW DO, ENGLISH!'


AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


BY M. ELOISE TALBOT.


LITTLE Prudence stood by the window, with
her face pressed hard against it. She was not
looking out; she could not do that, for the
window-frame, instead of being filled with clear
panes of glass, had oiled paper stretched tightly
across it.
It was a very curious window, indeed, and it
transmitted a dull light into a very curious room.
The floor was of uncovered boards; the walls
were built of logs of wood with the bark still
clinging to them in places, and overhead were
great rafters from which hung suspended many
things swords and corselets, coats, bundles of
dried herbs, pots and pans.
The furniture was very simple. In the cen-
ter of the room was a wooden table, scoured to
whiteness, stiff-backed chairs were ranged against
the wall, and a dresser, where pewter cups and
platters stood in shining rows, adorned the far-
ther corner. In a wide chimney-place a royal
fire was blazing, and before it stood Prudence's
mother, carefully stirring some mixture in an
iron pot which hung upon a crane. Within
the circle of the firelight, which played upon
her yellow hair and turned it to ruddy gold,
Mehitable, Prudence's sister, stepped rapidly
to and fro, her spinning-wheel making a hum-


ming accompaniment to the crackling of the
blaze.
Prudence turned to watch her, pushing far-
ther back a little white cap which pressed upon
her short curls; for she was a little Puritan
maiden, living in the town of Plymouth, and it
was not the present year of our Lord, but about
two hundred and seventy-five years ago. She
was a very different Prudence from what she
would have been if she had been living now,
and it was a very different Plymouth from the
pleasant town we know to-day, with its many
houses climbing up the hill, and the busy peo-
ple in its streets. There were only seven houses
then, and they stood in one line leading to the
water, and there was but one building besides-
a square wooden affair with palisades, which
served as a church on Sundays, a fort when
enemies were feared, and a storehouse all the
time. Beyond these nothing could be seen
but woods trackless, unknown forests and,
away to the east, the ocean, where the waves
were booming with a lonesome sound.
It was not quite a year before that Prudence's
father had stood with the other brave colonists
on the deck of the Mayflower," and had
looked with eager eyes upon the shore of the






AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


New World. This first year in Massachusetts
had on the whole been a happy one for Pru-
dence. During the cold winter which fol-
lowed their landing, she had indeed cast long-
ing thoughts toward the home in Holland
which they had left; and especially did she
long for the Dutch home when she was hungry,
and the provisions which had been brought on
the ship were scanty; but she had forgotten
all such longings in the bounty given by the
summer, and now it seemed to her there was
no more beautiful place in the world than this
New England.
It was Prudence's father who opened the
door and came in, carrying on his shoulder an
ax with which he had been felling trees for the
winter's fuel. Prudence never could get over
the queer feeling it gave her to see her father
thus employed. When they lived in Holland,
he was always writing and studying in books of
many languages, but here he did little else than
work in the fields, for it was only so that the
early settlers obtained their daily bread. He
leaned his ax in a corer, and came toward the
fire, rubbing his hands to get out the cold.
"I have news for you, dear heart, to-night,"
he said to his wife. I have just come from
the granary, and, indeed there is goodly store
laid up of corn and rye, and game that has
been shot in the forest. The children's mouths
will not hunger this winter."
"Praised be the Lord! replied his wife,
fervently. "But what is your news ?"
"The governor hath decided to hold a
thanksgiving for the bountiful harvest, and on
the appointed day is a great feast to be spread;
and he hath sent a messenger to bid Massasoit
to break bread with us."
Massasoit the Indian ?"
Ay; but a friendly Indian. He will come,
and many of his braves with him. You will be
kept busy, my heart, with the other housewives
to bake sufficient food for this company."
Oh, mother, may I may I go?" cried
Prudence, her eyes dancing with excitement,
clutching at her mother's skirts; but her father
continued:
How now, Mehitable? The news of a
coming feast does not seem to make you merry
as it was wont to do in Holland."


Mehitable was grave, and there was even a
tear in her eye.
"I know," cried Joel, who was two years
older than Prudence; "she is thinking of John
Andrew, who is across the sea."
But the father frowned, and the mother said,
Peace, foolish children!" as she placed the
porridge on the table.
So Prudence and Joel drew up their benches,
and said no more. Chairs and conversation
did not belong to children in those days; they
sat on little stools and kept silence. That did
not keep them from thinking. A thanksgiving
feast! What could it be ? The only thanks-
giving they knew about meant such long pray-
ers in church that the little people grew very
tired before the end-but a feast!-that
would be something new and interesting.
The feast was to be held on the following
Thursday; so, during all the days between, the
house was full of the stir of brewing and bak-
ing. Prudence polished the apples, and Joel
pounded the corn, in eager anticipation; but
when the day arrived a cruel disappointment
awaited them, for their father decreed that they
should remain at home.
"You are over young, my little Prudence,
and Joel is over bold; besides which, he must
stay and care for you."
"And do neither of you leave the house
while your father and I are away," added the
mother. "I shall not have a moment's peace
of mind, if I think you are wandering outside
alone."
I will bring you back a Dutch cake, my
little sister," whispered Mehitable, who looked
sweeter than ever in her best attire of black silk
and a lace kerchief, which with an unwilling
heart she had put on in obedience to her mo-
ther's command.
But when the elders were gone the disap-
pointment and loneliness were too much for
the children. Prudence, being a girl, sat down
in a corner and cried; while Joel, being a boy,
got angry, and strode up and down the room
with his hands in his pockets.
"It is too bad!" he burst out suddenly.
"The greedy, grown-up people, I believe they
want all the food themselves! It 's a down-
right shame to keep us at home "






AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


"Joel! gasped Prudence, horrified -" fa-
ther and mother "
Well, I know," admitted Joel, more-mildly;
"but at least, they need not have shut us up in
the house as if we were babies. Prudence, let's
go out in the yard and play, if we can't do any-
thing else."
But mother forbade us," said Prudence.
"I know. But then, of course, she only
meant we must not go into the woods for fear
of wild beasts. There is no danger here by the
doorsteps, and father won't care; he 's not
afraid! "
"I don't know," faltered Prudence.
"Well, I 'm going, any way," said Joel, reso-
lutely, taking his hat from the peg. "Ah, do
come too, Prudence he added persuasively.
So Prudence, though she knew in her heart
it was a naughty thing to do, took off her cap,
and tying her little Puritan bonnet under her
chin, followed Joel through the door.
Once outside, I am afraid their scruples were
soon forgotten. All the sunshine of the sum-
mer and the sparkling air of the winter were
fused together to make a wonderful November
day. The children felt like colts just loosed,
and ran and shouted together till, if there had
not been a good deal of noise also at the stone
house where the feast was being spread, their
shrill little voices must surely have been heard
there.
All at once Joel caught Prudence by the arm.
Hush! he exclaimed. "Look!"
A beautiful gray squirrel ran across the grass
in front of them. It stopped, poising its little
head and intently listening.
"I 'm going to catch him," whispered Joel
excitedly. Father said if I could catch one,
he would make me a cage for it. Come along."
He tiptoed softly forward, but the squirrel
heard and was up and away in an instant.
Joel pursued, and Prudence ran after him.
Such a chase as the little creature gave them-
up on the fence, under the stones, across the
fields, and finally straight to the woods, with
the children panting and stumbling after, still
keeping him in sight. Breath and patience
gave out at last; but when they stopped, where
were they? In the very heart of the forest,
where the dead leaves rustled, and the sunlight


slanted down upon them, and the squirrel, safe
in the top of a tree, chattered angrily.
Never saw anything run so fast,"
panted Joel in disgust. "I give him up.
We had better go back, Prudence. Why -
but I don't think I know the way! "
Prudence's lip quivered, and her eyes filled.
That 's just like a girl said Joel, harshly,
" to go and cry the first thing."
I don't care," cried Prudence, indignation
burning away her tears; you brought me
into this, anyhow, Joel, and now you ought to
get me out."
This was so obviously true that Joel had no
retort at hand. Besides, he did not like to see
Prudence unhappy. So, after a moment, he
put his arm around her.
"Never mind, Prue," he said; "I think if
we try together, we can find the way home."
But though they walked until their feet were
weary, they could find no familiar spot.
When they came out of the woods at last,
it was only to find themselves unexpectedly
on the sandy beach of the ocean. They sat
down on two stones, and looked at each other
in silence. Joel began to feel even his bravery
giving way. All at once they heard a sound
of soft feet, and a low, sweet voice said:
How do, English "
A little Indian boy stood before them. He
wore a garment of skins, and a tiny bow and
quiver hung upon his back. His feet were
bare, and he walked so lightly that the children
could hardly hear his tread. Prudence, in
fright, shrank close to her brother; but Joel had
seen many Indians during their year in the
New World, and the stranger's eyes were so
bright and soft that the white boy returned the
Indian's salutation. Then, plunging his hand
into his pocket, Joel brought forth a handful
of nut-meats, and held them out for an offering.
The little Indian smiled delightedly, and po-
litely took a few--not all. Having munched
the kernels gravely, the new-comer began to
dance.
It was a most remarkable dance. It was
first a stately measure, accompanied by many
poisings on his toes, and lifting of his head,
from which the wind blew back his straight
black hair; but gradually his motions grew


[Nov.






AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


faster and more furious, his slow steps changed
to running, he turned, he twisted his lithe body
into all possible contorted shapes, he threw his
arms high above his head, waving them wildly,
he took great leaps into the air, and. finally,
when his dance had lasted about fifteen min-
utes, several amazing somersaults brought him


Prudence's head drooped upon her brother's
shoulder.
I 'm rather tired, Joel," she said, wistfully;
" don't you think we could get to Plymouth
pretty soon ?"
I don't know," said Joel, despondently.
At the words the Indian boy sprang to his


"'THOU ART COME BACK TOME--THE WARMTH OF MY HEART, THE SUNLIGHT OF MY WIGWAM! EXCLAIMED MASSASOIT."
(SEE PAGE 62.)


breathless, but still smiling, to the children's
feet.
His spectators had been shouting with de-
light during the whole performance, and now
asked him eager questions. What was his
name ? How did he learn to dance ? Could he
not speak any more English ? But to all their
inquiries he only shook his head, and at last sat
down beside them, motionless now as any little
bronze statue, and looked steadily out to sea.


feet. He ran toward the woods, then stopped,
and beckoned them to follow.
He is going in the wrong direction, I am
sure," said Joel, shaking his head.
The boy stamped on the ground with im-
patience, and, running back, seized Prudence's
hand, and gently pulled her forward.
"Plymout'! he said, in his strange accent.
The children looked at each other.
We might as well try him," said Joel.






AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


The boy clapped his hands together, and
ran on before them into the forest. It was a
weary journey, over bogs and fallen trees, and
seemed three times as long as when they had
come. A wasp once stung Prudence on the
cheek, making her cry out with pain; but quick
as thought the little Indian caught up a pellet
of clay, and plastered it upon the wound, and,
marvelous to relate, before many minutes the
sharp pain had quite gone away.
The woods seemed gradually to grow a little
more open, and pretty soon they heard the dis-
tant tinkle of a cow-bell. At last (Prudence
held her breath for fear it might not be true)
they emerged suddenly into the clearing, and
home lay before them.
They found they had made a complete cir-
cle since they started.
Their little guide stooped and picked up a
gaudy-colored feather from the ground. He
examined it closely, and then he shouted aloud,
and began to run toward the storehouse as fast
as his sturdy legs could carry him.
I want to see mother," said Prudence, half
crying with fatigue; so they ran all together
across the clearing.
All this while the feast had been progressing.
About noontime the great Massasoit, chief of
the Indian tribe called the Wampanoags, had
emerged from the forest with all his tallest
braves in single file behind him. They wore
their best beaver-skins, and their heads were
gay with nodding feathers. They were re-
ceived at the door of the storehouse by their
English entertainers, who also' wore the bravest
attire that Puritan custom allowed. They gave
the braves a hearty welcome.
Within, the long table fairly groaned with
abundance of good cheer; for the housewives
had vied with one another to provide the fattest
game and the daintiest dishes that Dutch -or
English housewifery had taught them.
After asking a blessing, they all sat down,
the stalwart colonists and their fair-haired
women side by side with the taciturn Indians.
The white men felt that the best way to thank
God for the harvest was to share it with their
dark-skinned brethren, who had first taught
them to plant and raise the maize which now
furnished the table.


Governor Bradford sat at the head of the
table. He hoped much from this feast; first,
that it might cement the friendship between the
colonists and their Indian neighbors, the Wam-
panoags; and, second, that the news of it
might induce the neighboring tribes, which
were still partly hostile, to live in peace with
the settlers. But though food and talk passed
blithely round among the other guests, the
governor saw, with growing dismay, that the
great Massasoit sat frowning and depressed.
The governor was not long in learning the
cause. The interpreter, observing the govern-
or's uneasiness, whispered in his ear that in a
recent war with the Narragansetts, Massasoit's
only child, a boy, was missed and was thought
to have been taken prisoner, and of course put
to death, after the cruel savage custom.
Toward the end of the feast, drink was served
to every guest. For the first time Massasoit
showed animation. He seized his cup, and lifted
it in the air, and cried aloud in his native tongue,
as he sprang to his feet:
May plague and famine seize the Narragan-
setts 1 "
At that very moment the house-door opened,
and a pretty group appeared upon the threshold.
Two English children stood there, as fair and
rosy as the May-time, and between them a dark,
lithe little Indian, with sparkling eyes.
Prudence ran straight to her mother.
Massasoit paused and trembled; then, as his
cup fell and shivered upon the ground, he
crossed the room in one stride, and caught the
Indian boy in his arms, looking at him as if he
could never see enough.
Governor Bradford knew in an instant that
the lost child had been restored, even without
the Indian warrior's shout of triumph, and'Mas-
sasoit's passionate exclamation: Light of my
eyes staff of my footsteps! thou art come
back to me the warmth of my heart, the sun-
light of my wigwam! "
The rejoicing was so great that no one
thought of chiding Joel and Prudence for their
disobedience. The governor himself gave Joel
a large slice of pudding, and Prudence told all
her adventures, throned upon her father's knee,
wearing around her neck a string of wampum
which the grateful Massasoit had hung there.





AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING.


And, oh! she exclaimed, while the In-
dian b6y was dancing for Joel and me, I looked
out to sea, and I saw such a wonderful bird -
a great white bird, flying along close to the wa-
ter, and rising up and down. It was many
times greater than the swans in Amsterdam! "
"Was it, my little maid? said the good
governor, laying his hand on her head, and
then he exchanged a keen look with Prudence's
father, saying nothing more. But when the
guests had departed, bearing home the Indian
boy in triumph, none was so early as the gover-
nor to reach the seashore; and it was his call
that brought the colonists to see the good ship
" Fortune" (Prudence's great white bird ") al-
ready rounding the point, and making ready to
cast anchor in Plymouth harbor.
Ah, then indeed the great guns rang out from
the shore to hail the ship, and the ship's can-
non boomed a quick reply, and the whole little
town was full and running over with glad wel-
come for the second English vessel to land
upon our Massachusetts coast.


In the evening a happy circle gathered round
the fire in the house of Prudence's father, and
there was eager talk, for all had much to learn
and to tell.
"I know now," said Joel to Prudence, as
they sat side by side, I know now what
Thanksgiving means. It means plenty to eat."
Prudence looked at the dear faces around
her, at Mehitable's sweet smile, and at the shin-
ing eyes of John Andrews, for he had been a
passenger by the Fortune.
Perhaps," she replied; but I think, Joel,
that we have Thanksgiving because we are so
glad to be all together once more."
This first Thanksgiving happened long ago,
but out of it all our later ones have grown; and
when we think of the glad meetings of long-
parted parents and sons and daughters, of the
merry frolics with brothers and sisters and cou-
sins, which come upon Thanksgiving Day, in
spite of our bountiful dinner-tables we shall
agree with Prudence that it is the happy family
party which makes the pleasure, after all.


s ir, two but they don't mein the same,

Qne from my master, he cos me tkm p ,

Snd one from the neighbors, fiey c Tne Scnp.








'.r,-',"--',-s. ix,. "a$''' ".-r.,~ ,*'C
." .-. -V -- .. ,
"- 44,


-a m .', I ,


YE MINSTREL AND YE
MADE.

BY FREDERICK B. OPPER.

PAUSE a moment, pray, my pretty
Rustic made !
Listen while I sing a ditty -
'T is my trade.

I will warble for your pleasure,
And I '11 thrum
On my soft guitar a measure -
Tumty-tum !

What !-you will not hear a sonnet
Or rondelle ?
Then, since you insist upon it,
Fare you well!


Iiii ,,


\i~


\












THE TRUE STORY OF MARCO POLO.


BY NOAH BROOKS.


[Begun in the June number.]

CHAPTER XIII.

HOW THE GREAT EMPEROR WENT TO WAR.

YOUNG Marco devoted a great deal of his
space to accounts of the Great Khan's wars
and fighting, and his hunting. Evidently,
Marco was himself fond of sport, for he de-
scribes many kinds of game birds and beasts,
and it is easy to see that he must have hunted
somewhat himself-although he modestly avoids
saying much about his own doings while he
was in Cathay. His account of one of the
Great Khan's battles is so vivid that we must
quote what he has to say of it, as well as
what he tells us of the Khan's title:

OF CUBLAY KAAN, THE GREAT KAAN NOW REIGNING,
AND OF HIS GREAT PUISSANCE.

Now am I come to that part of our book in which I
shall tell you of the great and wonderful magnificence of
the Great Kaan now reigning, by name CUBLAY KAAN;
Kaan being a title which signifyeth The Great Lord of
Lords," or Emperor. And of a surety he hath good
right to such a title, for all men know for a certain truth
that he is the most potent man, as regards forces and
lands and treasure, that existeth in the world, or ever
hath existed from the time of our First Father Adam
until this day. All this I will make clear to you for
truth, in this book of ours, so that every one shall be fain
to acknowledge that he is the greatest Lord that is now
in the world, or ever hath been.

CONCERNING THE REVOLT OF NAYAN, WHO WAS
UNCLE TO THE GREAT KAAN CUBLAY.

Now this Cublay Kaan is of the right Imperial lineage,
being descended from Chinghis Kaan, the first sovereign
of all the Tartars. 'And he is the sixth Lord in that suc-
cession, as I have already told you in this book. He
came to the throne in the year 1256, and the Empire fell
to him because of his ability and valor and great worth,'
as was right and reason. His brothers, indeed, and
other kinsmen disputed his claim, but his it remained,
both because maintained by his great valor, and because
VOL. XXIV.--9.


it was in law and right his, as being directly sprung of
the Imperial line.
Up to the year now running, to wit, 1298, he hath
reigned two and forty years, and his age is about eighty-
five, so that he must have been about forty-three years of
age when he first came to the throne. Before that time
he had often been to the wars, and had shown himself a
gallant soldier and an excellent captain. But after com-
ing to the throne he never went to the wars in person
save once. This befel in the year 1286, and I will tell
you how he went.
There was a great Tartar Chief, whose name was
NAYAN, a young man of thirty, Lord over many lands
and many provinces, and he was Uncle to the Emperor
Cublay Kaan of whom we are speaking. And when he
found himself in authority this Nayan waxed proud in
the insolence of his youth and his great power; for in-
deed he could bring into the field 300,000 horsemen,
though all the time he was liegeman to his nephew the
Great Kaan Cublay as was right and reason. Seeing
then what great power he had, he took it into his head
that he would be the Great Kaan's vassal no longer;
nay, more, he would fain wrest his empire from him if
he could. So this Nayan sent envoys to another Tartar
Prince called CAIDU, also a great and potent Lord, who
was a kinsman of his, and who was a nephew of the Great
Kaan and his lawful liegeman also, though he was in re-
bellion and at bitter enmity with his sovereign Lord and
Uncle. Now the message that Nayan sent was this:
That he himself was making ready to march against the
Great Kaan with all his forces (which were great), and
he begged Caidu to do likewise from his side, so that by
attacking Cublay on two sides at once with such great
forces they would be able to wrest his dominion from
him.
And when Caidu heard the message of Nayan, he was
right glad threat, and thought the time was come at last
to gain his object. So he sent back answer that he would
do as requested; and got ready his host, which mustered
a good hundred thousand horsemen.

HOW THE GREAT KAAN MARCHED AGAINST NAYAN.
When the Great Kaan heard what was afoot, he made
his preparations in right good heart, like one who feared
not the issue of an attempt so contrary to justice. Con-
fident in his own conduct and prowess, he was in no
degree disturbed, but vowed that he would never wear
crown again if he brought not those two traitorous and
disloyal Tartar chiefs to an ill end. So swiftly and se-






THE TRUE STORY OF MARCO POLO.


cretly were his preparations made that no one knew of
them but his Privy Council, and all were completed
within ten or twelve days. In that time he had assembled
good 360,000 horsemen and 1oo,ooo footmen,-but a small
force indeed for him, and consisting only of those that
were in the vicinity. For the rest of his vast and innu-
merable forces were too far off to answer so hasty a sum-
mons, being engaged under orders from him on distant
expeditions to conquer divers countries and provinces.
If he had waited to summon all his troops, the multitude
assembled would have been beyond all belief, a multi-
tude such as never was heard of or told of, past all count-
ing! In fact, those 360,000 horsemen that he got to-
gether consisted merely of the falconers and whippers-in
that were about the court !
And when he had got ready this handful (as it were)
of his troops, he ordered his astrologers to declare whe-
ther he should gain the battle and get the better of his
enemies. After they had made their observations, they
told him to go on boldly, for he would conquer and gain
a glorious victory: whereat he greatly rejoiced.
So he marched with his army, and after advancing for
twenty days they arrived at a great plain where Nayan
lay with all his host, amounting to some 400,000 horse.
Now the Great Kaan's forces arrived so fast and so sud-
denly that the others knew nothing of the matter. For the
Kaan had caused such strict watch to be made in every
direction for scouts that every one that appeared was in-
stantly captured. Thus Nayan had no warning of his
coming and was completely taken by surprise; insomuch
that when the great Kaan's army came up, he was asleep.
So thus you see why it was that the Emperor equipped
his force with such speed and secresy.

OF THE BATTLE THAT THE GREAT KAAN FOUGHT
WITH NAYAN.

What shall I say about it ? When day had well
broken, there was the Kaan with all his host upon a hill
overlooking the plain where Nayan lay in his tent, in all
security, without the slightest thought of any one coming
thither to do him hurt. In fact, this confidence of his
was such that he kept no vedettes whether in front or
in rear; for he knew nothing of the coming of the Great
Kaan, owing to all the approaches having been com-
pletely occupied as I told you. Moreover the place was
in a remote wilderness, more than thirty marches from
the Court, though the Kaan had made the distance in
twenty, so eager was he to come to battle with Nayan.
And what shall I tell you next ? The Kaan was there
on the hill, mounted on a great wooden bartizan, which
was borne by four well-trained elephants, and over him
was hoisted his standard, so high aloft that it could be
seen from all sides. His troops were ordered in battles *
of 30,000 men apiece; and a great part of the horsemen
had each a footsoldier armed with a lance set on the
crupper behind him (for it was thus that the footmen
were disposed of); and the whole plain seemed to be
covered with his forces. So it was thus that the Great
Kaan's army was arrayed for battle.
Battalions.


When Nayan and his people saw what happened,
they were sorely confounded, and rushed in haste to
arms. Nevertheless they made them ready in good
style and formed their troops in an orderly manner.
And when all were in battle array on both sides as I
have told you, and nothing remained but to fall to blows,
then might you have heard a sound arise of many instru-
ments of various music, and of the voices of the whole
of the two hosts loudly singing. For this is a custom
of the Tartars, that before they join battle they all unite in
singing and playing on a certain two-stringed instrument
of theirs, a thing right pleasant to hear. And so they
continue in their array of battle, singing and playing
in this pleasing manner, until the great Naccara of the
Prince is heard to sound. As soon as that begins to
sound the fight also begins on both sides; and in no
case before the Prince's Naccara sounds dare any com-
mence fighting.
So then, as they were thus singing and playing, though






,7














DRAWN FROM A CHINESE PICTURE.
THE KHAN'S WAR-DRUMS, CALLED NACCARAS.

ordered and ready for battle, the great Naccara of the
Great Kaan began to sound. And that of Nayan also
began to sound. And thenceforward the din of battle
began to be heard loudly from this side and from that.
And they rushed to work so doughtily with their bows
and their maces, with their lances and swords, and with
the arblasts t of the footmen, that it was a wondrous sight
to see. Now might you behold such flights of arrows
from this side and from that, that the whole heaven was
canopied with them and they fell like rain. Now might
you see on this side and on that full many a cavalier and
man-at-arms fall slain, insomuch that the whole field
seemed covered with them. For fierce and furious was
the battle, and quarter there was none given.
But why should I make a long story of it ? You must
know that it was the most parlous and fierce and fearful
battle that ever has been fought in our day. Nor have
there ever been such forces in the field in actual fight,
especially of horsemen, as were then engaged-for,
taking both sides, there were not fewer than 760,0o0
f Cross-bows.






THE TRUE STORY OF MARCO POLO.


horsemen, a mighty force! and that without reckoning
the footmen, who were also very numerous. The battle
endured with various fortune on this side and on that
from morning till noon. But at the last, by God's
pleasure and the right that was on his side, the Great
Kaan had the victory, and Nayan lost the battle and
was utterly routed. For the army of the Great Kaan
performed such feats of arms that Nayan and his host
could stand against them no longer, so they turned and
fled. But this availed nothing for Nayan; for he and
all the barons with him were taken prisoners, and had
to surrender to the Kaan with all their arms.
Now you must know that Nayan was a baptized
Christian, and bore the cross on his banner; but this
naught availed him, seeing how grievously he had done
amiss in rebelling against his Lord. For he was the
Great Kaan's liegeman, and was bound to hold his lands
of him like all his ancestors before him.

HOW THE GREAT KAAN CAUSED NAYAN TO BE
PUT TO DEATH.

And when the Great Kaan learned that Nayan was
taken right glad was he, and commanded that he should
be put to death straightway and in secret.
And when the Great Kaan had gained this battle, as
you have heard, all the Barons and people of Nayan's
provinces renewed their fealty to the Kaan. Now
these provinces that had been under the Lordship of
Nayan were four in number, to wit: the first called
CHORCHA; the second CAULY; the third BARSCOL; the
fourth SIKINTINJU. Of all these four great provinces
had Nayan been Lord; it was a very great dominion.
And after the Great Kaan had conquered Nayan, as
you have heard, it came to pass that the different kinds
of people who were present, Saracens and Idolaters and
Jews, and many others that believed not in God, did
gibe those that were Christians because of the cross that
Nayan had borne on his standard, and that so grievously
that there was no bearing it. Thus they would say to
the Christians : See now what precious help this Cross
of yours hath rendered Nayan, who was a Christian and
a worshipper thereof." And such a din arose about
the matter that it reached the Great Kaan's own ears.
When it did so, he sharply rebuked those who cast these
gibes at the Christians; and he also bade the Christians
be of good heart, "for if the Cross had rendered no help
to Nayan, in that It had done right well; nor could that
which was good, as It was, have done otherwise; for
Nayan was a disloyal and traitorous Rebel against his
Lord, and well deserved that which had befallen him.
Wherefore the Cross of your God did well in that It
gave him no help against the right." And this he said
so loud that everybody heard him. The Christians then
replied to the Great Kaan: Great King, you say the
truth indeed, for our Cross can render no one help in


wrongdoing; and therefore it was that It aided not
Nayan, who was guilty of crime and disloyalty, for It
would take no part in his evil deeds."
And so thenceforward no more was heard of the flout-
ings of the unbelievers against the Christians; for they
heard very well what the Sovereign said to the latter
about the Cross on Nayan's banner, and its giving him
no help.

Marco makes one or two errors in his account
of the Great Khan's warlike doings. This was
not the only time that the Emperor went to war
in person; for the Chinese annalists tell of at
least one other occasion when he led his army
against his brother and rival, Arikbuga, in 1261;
and in his old age he took the field against
Kaidu, a rebel in the North. Nayan, whose
defeat and tragical death are so vividly de-
scribed by Marco, was not the uncle of Kublai
Khan; he was no more than a cousin many
times removed.
A bartizan" was a sort of tower, made of
timber, and used for purposes of defense or at-
tack. It would appear that the Great Khan
went to war in person, riding in a great wooden
tower which was carried on the backs of four
elephants. On an elephant was also carried the
big war-drum which Polo calls a naccara. This
was an immense kettle-drum shaped like a brass
cauldron, tapering to the bottom and covered
with dried buffalo-hide which had been scraped
thin and tightly stretched for the drum-head.
These were sometimes three or four feet across
at the top, and the noise from them when beaten
was something terrific. Two of these monster
drums would be slung on the back of an ele-
phant, and the drummer, seated between the
two, would beat first one and then another,
when the signal was to be given to the fighting
men.
Imagine 460,000 soldiers, infantry and cav-
alry, marching to battle with the gigantic drums
sounding, flags flying, troops shouting, and over
all the war-banner of the great Emperor, streim-
ing from his castle borne on the backs of four
elephants. Truly that was a "parlous and
fierce and fearful battle," the like of which
we have never seen in our day.


(To be continued.)

















,s&cATc
-, L
~rii~
""~~~~~~P;i r r>$'~ C~


By OLIVER HERFORD.


SIS MAJESTY, the King
of Beasts,
Tired of fuss and for-
mal feasts,
Once resolved that he
would go
On a tour incognito.

But a suitable
W disguise
Was not easy to
^ devise;
Kingly natures do
not care
Other people's
things to
wear.


And so he did, and as you '11 guess,
He had a measure of success.
Disguised in name alone, he yet
Took in 'most every one he met.

The first was Mister Wolf, who said
"Your Majesty-" "Off with his head!"
The angry monarch roared. "I am,
I 'd have you know, a Woolly Lamb."

Then Mistress Lamb, who, being near,
Had heard, addressed him: "Brother
dear-"
"Odds cats !" the lion roared, "my word !
Such insolence I never heard!"


The very thought filled him with shame.
"No, I will simply change my name,"
Said he, "and go just as I am,
And call myself a Woolly Lamb."






THE LION'S TOUR.


His rage was a terrific sight
(It almost spoiled his appetite).
And so it went, until one day
He met Sir Fox, who stopped to say
(Keeping just far enough away,
Yet in a casual, off-hand
way,
As if he did n't care
a fig),
" Good morning to you,
Thingumjig."














Now everybody, small and big,
Knows what is meant by Thingumjig;
But what is now a household word
In those days never had been heard.
Sir Fox himself invented it
This great emergency to fit.

The King of Beasts, quite unprepared
For this reception, simply stared.


Of course he was not going to show
There was a word he did not know.
He bowed, and with his haughtiest air
Resumed his walk; but everywhere
He went his subjects, small and big,
Took up the cry of Thingumjig.

It followed him where'er he went;
He did n't dare his rage to
_vent.
Suppose it were a compli-
ment ?













His anger then would only show
Here was a word he did not know!
The only course for him, 't was clear,
Was to pretend he did not hear.

And this he did until, at length,
Long fasting so impaired his strength
He gave his tour up in despair,
Mid great rejoicing everywhere.











THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.
(Third story of the series entitled The City of Stories." Begun in the September number.)

Rv FRANK M. BICKNELL.


AFTER reading the "End of Week after
Next," the Princess and her companion walked
about the city reading here and there bits of
stories, so as to find one that was especially in-
teresting. At length they turned into a street
that seemed to promise entertaining reading.
Accordingly they began the perusal of a tale
entitled :

THE KING'S CASTLE IN No MAN'S LAND.
ONCE on a time there lived a man named
Avaro. He was so mean and miserly that he
was heartily despised
by all who knew
him. None of his
neighbors would even
speak to him if they -'
chanced to meet him --
in the street. He- -
had no family, and
he lived quite alone. -
He never asked peo-
ple to visit him, and
it is doubtful whether
anybody would have .
come.
One summer day a
strange old man with
a long beard came
'HOW DARE
trudging down the
road. He had journeyed a great distance, and
was warm and tired. Noticing that Avaro's
house cast a deep shadow, the wayfarer thought
it would harm no one if he were to sit down
there on the grass to cool and rest himself a bit.
But it chanced that Avaro was in an unusually
bad temper that day. While counting his
money in the morning he had lost a farthing
piece. It had slipped between his fingers, and
rolled away somewhere into a crack in the floor
so that it could not be found. This awful


calamity had made the miser as cross as two
sticks and sourer than last year's cider. When
he saw the stranger seated before his house he
rushed out of doors in a great rage.
You lazy good-for-nothing! he cried, "get
up and begone! How dare you sit down in
my beautiful shadow ? "
"In what way am I wronging anyone by
sitting here ? asked the old man; "is not the
shade free ? "
"Free! screamed Avaro. My beautiful
shade free! Don't you suppose this house cost


YOU SIT DOWN IN MY BEAUTIFUL SHADOW?'"

money? Well, if the house were not here
neither would the shade be; therefore the shade
also cost money, did n't it? Off with you,
vagabond, and never let me catch you about
here again, using my costly shadow! "
Certainly you are the meanest man alive,"
remarked the traveler, rising and taking up his
staff, and you have used me shabbily; never-
theless I will tell you something that will please
you. Next week you will be made king."
The miser opened his eyes and his mouth






THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.


too, in amazement at this piece of news. But
before he coulm fairly collect his wits to ask
any question the old man had gone.
A few days after this the reigning king died
suddenly, without leaving any children to suc-
ceed him. So, as the people must have a king,
a council of twenty of the principal men met to
see what should be done. And as it costs a
great deal to keep up the dignity and state of a
sovereign, it was decided that the wealthiest of
the late king's subjects should be the one to
succeed him on the throne.
Now it had been supposed that the Gold-
smith who was one of the council of twenty
-was the richest man in the kingdom, but as
it proved, this was not the case. When the
decision was made public, Avaro came forward
and presented his claim. Here was a disagree-
able surprise to everybody, and particularly to
the Goldsmith, his wife, and their pretty daugh-
ter, who already had begun to look on them-
selves as a royal family. Up to that time
Avaro had feigned extreme poverty, and indeed
it had cost him a severe pang at last to admit
that he possessed so much wealth. But the ad-
vantages of being king were too great. So he
showed beyond a doubt that his title to sover-
eignty was good, and the council of twenty
were forced to accept him as their king.
From the very first no one liked the new
ruler, and as time went by he grew more and
more unpopular. On coming into -power he
cut down expenses in every possible way, and
resorted to numberless mean and petty tricks
by which money was turned into his own
pockets. In a few weeks the court became
so poor and shabby from Avaro's parsimony
that the very rag-pickers were ashamed.
Finally the discontent grew to be so great
and so widespread that the council of twenty
held another meeting- this time to try and
devise some means of getting rid of the mon-
arch with whom they had so unluckily burdened
themselves. However, Avaro's removal was
not to be brought about so easily as had been
his elevation to regal power. There was no
law against stinginess, and unless he broke
some law there could not be found a sufficient
excuse for depriving the king of his throne.
No one was able to suggest anything, and the


council were forced to confess themselves non-
plussed.
Among them all no one had racked his
brains harder for some way of getting Avaro
deposed than the Goldsmith, and as nothing
had come of it he went home in rather an un-
pleasant state of mind. As soon as he got into
the house his wife and daughter eagerly began
to question him about the result of the meeting.
Of course he was obliged to tell them that all
the deliberation had been to no purpose. He
had scarcely made the confession when he was
startled by a loud, boisterous laugh. Turning
quickly about, he strode across the room to-
ward the stove, behind which sat an overgrown,
out-at-elbows lad. He was still laughing.
Bobo, you triple idiot, what are you haw-
hawing about? How dare you make fun of
your betters, sirrah ?" demanded the angry
Goldsmith, uplifting his cane to chastise him.
"Ho! ho! I could n't help it," cried the
youth, nimbly dodging the stick. Don't strike
me, master. I laughed to think of twenty wise
men wearing out their wits over a matter that
any fool could have settled in less than five
minutes."
My faith did ever any one hear the like ?"
exclaimed the Goldsmith. Think you, Bobo,
that you, who are the biggest fool I know,
could help us out of our trouble?"
"That indeed I could," replied Bobo.
"How, good Bobo ?"
The youth shut one eye and looked very sly.
"Master," quoth he, "that is a secret which
passes not out of my own keeping. But I will
bring the thing about on a certain condition."
Pray, what may that certain condition
be ?" inquired the Goldsmith, in growing
amazement.
That you give me your daughter to wife,"
answered Bobo coolly.
When she heard these audacious words the
Goldsmith's pretty daughter, who was as proud
as she was pretty, could hardly believe her
ears. That this poor fellow, who was looked
on as little better than a simpleton, should dare
ask her hand seemed preposterous.
Upon my word," she exclaimed with flash-
ing eyes, "the booby has gone mad-stark,
staring mad to dream that I would ever wed






THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.


with such as he!" and with a look of scorn at
poor Bobo she left the room.
But her father took the matter more quietly.
He wished very much to sit on the throne,
and he was unwilling to let pass any chance.
As he reasoned, he would run no risk in promis-
ing his daughter to Bobo conditionally, for if the
youth failed there would be no harm done, and
if he succeeded he would have proved himself
clever enough to deserve her.
Do you mean," he demanded, "that you
can remove King Avaro from the throne with-
out violence and by lawful methods ? "
"Ay," replied the youth; "or, rather, I intend
that King Avaro shall remove himself--that
is, if you promise me your daughter," he added
quickly.
"Very well," returned the Goldsmith, no
longer hesitating; "rid us of Avaro and the
maiden shall be yours."

Some weeks after these events it became
known that the Prince Magnifico, who-was
traveling about the world for his own amuse-
ment, had decided to pay King Avaro's capital
a visit. In fact, his royal highness shortly ap-
peared in town and took up his abode in the
finest house that money could hire: Magnifico
was a fine, handsome young man of free and
gay manners, and was good-hearted and gener-
ous to a fault. Naturally he took early occa-
sion to pay his respects to the king. The latter
received his visitor with seeming graciousness,
though all the while he was wishing him at the
other end of the earth. He knew that he would
be expected to show the prince some attentions
during his stay in the city, and he had no mind
to pay out good money for what he reckoned
as extravagant follies. Instead of offering re-
freshments to the prince and his attendants, he
asked the former to go with him and look at
the palace gardens,- which would cost nothing,
- and as for the latter (who, he had no doubt,
would have "eaten him out of house and
home if he had but given them the chance),
he left them to shift for themselves.
While they were promenading through the
garden the king happened to remark, with en-
vious eyes, an unusually. large diamond that
Magnifico wore in his cap. Seeing that the


gem had attracted Avaro's notice, the prince
removed it from its place that it might be ex-
amined more closely. As he was about to put
it in the king's hand, however, a bird suddenly
flew down, snatched the glittering stone in its
beak, and then disappeared almost in a twink-
ling. Avaro gave a cry of horror and started
forward as if to pursue the thief, but Magnifico
said, with a light laugh:
Let the bauble go; there are enough more
like it to be had from the king's castle in No
Man's Land."
"Eh?" exclaimed Avaro, pricking up his
ears, and do you hold the key to that won-
derful castle ? "
Not I," returned Magnifico, with another
laugh. "The door stands wide open to all.
When the king of No Man's Land died, many
years ago, he left a castle filled with treasures,
and any one may go and help himself."
Know you how the castle is to be reached ?"
queried Avaro, eagerly.
"Oh, yes; nothing can be easier to find. It
lies within three days' journey from the bound-
aries of your kingdom. You have only to
travel until you come to a strange old man
with a long beard, sitting at the entrance to a
wood. Bestow upon him a suitable alms, and
he will direct you to the king's castle."
Soon the prince took his leave, much to the
satisfaction of Avaro, who was in a violent hurry
to get hold of the treasures of the king of No
Man's Land. Without losing time he gathered
a great number of oxen and pack-horses and
started out.
A three days' march beyond the confines of
his own dominions brought the king to the bor-
ders of an immense forest where a strange old
man with a long beard was sitting. It was the
very same person whom he had formerly driven
away from the shade of his house, though Av-
aro did not know that. The miserly monarch
fumbled a while in his pockets for a suitable
alms," and finally, not without much reluctance,
he threw a copper toward the old man, and
asked to be directed to the king's castle.
The old man looked disdainfully at the coin
lying on the ground before him. "Is that all
a rich king can afford to give a poor creature
who asks charity ?" he demanded, severely.






THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.


I do not say I am rich, nor yet a king," an-
swered Avaro, fearing to part with any more of
his dearly loved money.
Indeed! But it is a great train that follows
you ?"
"The Prince Magnifico is visiting me," re-
plied Avaro, unblushingly.
Ah," said the old man slowly, "you wish


"THE PAVEMENTS OF THE COURTYARD WERE NEARLY A HUN
WERE STILL SINKING RAPIDLY." (SEE P

me to think you are not rich, nor a king, and
that this train belongs to Prince Magnifico.
Very good! So be it!" And his words were
accompanied by a look that make Avaro shiver
with dread.
But Avaro repeated his request to be shown
the way to the king's castle. Whereupon the old
man stooped, and, plucking a small plant that
grew at his feet, he threw it to Avaro, saying:
"Rub your horse's nose with the juice of
that herb; then give him the rein and he will
take you where you seek to go. But first let
VOL. XXIV.-1o.


me offer you a piece of advice that you will do
well to follow. In the king's castle in No Man's
Land is a great hall from which open one hun-
dred doors. Ninety and nine of these you may
freely pass through, but beware that you do not
so much as lift the latch of the hundredth door,
else ill-luck will surely befall you."
Without paying very much heed to the old
man's last words Ava-
ro rubbed the herb
upon his steed's nos-
trils, and dropping the
reins on his neck rode
S forward at a quicker
pace. In about an
hour he came to a
clearing, in the midst
S of which he saw the
S King's Castle. It was
a grand and stately
S building, but Avaro
had no thought of
stopping to admire the
beauty of its architec-
ture. Galloping into
the courtyard he dis-
mounted, and leaving
his horse with an at-
tendant, he hurried
'4' through the lofty por-
tals into the great hall.
There, as the old man
had said, were the
S ,,l' hundred doors all
S- alike, save that the
last bore a placard:
DRED FEET BELOW HIM AND It is forbidden to
AGE 74.) enter here."
With hands trembling from excitement Avaro
pushed open the first of these hundred doors.
What a sight then met his gaze! He was on
the threshold of a large chamber filled with
gold coins shining as if fresh from the mint.
For some minutes he stood gloating over this
mass of wealth; then he carefully shut that
door and opened the next one. This time a
room full of magnificent pearls was disclosed to
view. After he had feasted his eyes upon them
for awhile, he passed on to the third door.
When he opened this he was nearly blinded by






THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.


the luster of a great heap of diamonds, not one
of which could have been smaller than a robin's
egg. He was now almost beside himself for


11V
/


B


"'MASTER,' QUOTH BOBO, 'THAT IS A SECRET THAT PASSES
(SEE PAGE 71.)


NOT


joy, and without waiting to investigate further,
he rushed forth to summon his attendants and
set them to work. He was in a feverish hurry
to get the treasure into sacks that he might
take it away before any one else should come
to dispute his right to it.
For nearly a week, day and night, he kept
his men at their labors. There was neither
sleep nor rest for any one until all the ninety-
nine doors had been opened, and the mines
of riches that were revealed had been carried
out of the castle. The amount that Avaro
thus laid hold of was enormous, but if there
had been ten times as much he would not have
left a farthing's-worth behind.
At last, toward the end of the seventh day,
the ninety-nine rooms stood quite empty, and
every man and beast was loaded down with as
much as he could possibly carry. And now
Avaro turned his whole attention to the mys-
terious hundredth door, for despite the warning
of the strange old man-or, rather, because
of it he was irresistibly tempted to penetrate
its secret. He- suspected that it concealed a
treasure far greater than any he had yet seen.
The thought of leaving behind anything for
others to get was too much for his avaricious
soul. He did not long hesitate, but presently
raised the latch and pushed open the door.


There was nothing alarming to be seen.
Only a flight of stone steps leading downward.
He began slowly to descend, and soon found
himself in a well-
lighted cellar. He
glanced about him.
''" The apartment was
S.' bare save for a large
stone vase that stood
in the center of it.
-.$ Upon the vase was
this inscription: "If
you would behold a
wonder throw a hand-
S ful of earth into this
vase."
.s -' Avaro was sure that
some enormous trea-
sure was about to be
OUT OF MY OWN KEEPING!'" revealed to him, so
he scooped up some
mold from the cellar floor and dropped it
in upon a tiny brown seed that lay in the
bottom of the vase. No sooner had he
done so than a little green shoot appeared
through the earth, and continued to grow
even more rapidly than it had begun. In
a very short time it had become a tree and
had reached the top of the room. Meantime
its branches were spreading to such an extent
that Avaro realized that the place must be
soon quite filled with the foliage. In some
alarm he turned and hurried back up the stone
steps. Suddenly there came a report as if a
cannon had been fired. The trunk of the tree
had burst the vase, and now its roots were strik-
ing deep into the ground, while its limbs shot
upward with renewed vigor. At the same time a
curious trembling and shaking motion made it-
self felt throughout the castle. Breathless with
haste and terror, Avaro rushed into the great hall,
intending to make his escape to the courtyard,
where his followers were awaiting him. But on
reaching the portals, what was his horror to find
that the pavements of the courtyard were nearly
a hundred feet below him, and apparently -
were still sinking rapidly. In fact the castle
was being raised into the air by the marvelous
growth of the tree in the cellar. In vain that
he shrieked frantically for help; he was already






1896.] THE KING'S CASTLE

far beyond the reach of human hands. More-
over, while he was thus being borne aloft there
suddenly appeared in the midst of his aston-
ished attendants the strange old man with the
long beard. Looking upward, this singular
person addressed to Avaro these words, every
one of which was distinctly audible:
"You have brought upon yourself your own
punishment. Until some one meaner than you
are shall come to take your place, you must re-
main where you are. Now, indeed, you are not
rich, neither are you a king, and your great train
belongs to the Prince Magnifico. He will know
how to make a proper use of your ill-gotten
gains; you will never see -them more."
Whereupon the unhappy miser, now nearly
three hundred feet above the earth, saw him
ride away, followed by the entire company of
men, horses and oxen.
Thus was Avaro left alone in the empty cas-
tle, while the immense treasure of which he
had ruthlessly stripped it was carried off before


IN NO MAN'S LAND. 75

his Highness wished to marry and was on the
lookout for a suitable bride. Then, of course,
there was a great stir among the maidens. One
evening Magnifico gave a great ball, to which
all the fairest damsels in the kingdom were
bidden. Naturally they came, every one, and
among them, looking her very prettiest, was
the Goldsmith's pretty daughter. To her the
Prince showed marked favor from the first, and
danced with her as often as his duties to his
other guests would permit.
By and by, during a pause in the dancing,
Magnifico stepped forward and thus addressed
the company:
My friends, I have called you together this
evening for a particular reason. I desire to
take a wife; but in a land where all the maid-
ens are so beautiful, how can I decide which
to choose ? As you see, my position is a deli-
cate one. I should like, therefore, to have the
matter settled thus: if there be any maiden here
who loves me truly, and whose heart tells her


UV1 _Ah
-I~ 'I, I_


"MAGNIFICO DREW BACK HAUGHTILY."


his very eyes. And as it is not likely that a
meaner man than he will ever come into this
world, probably Avaro remained in the King's
Castle in No Man's Land until he died.
In the mean time Prince Magnifico had con-
tinued to live at the capital and was becoming
very popular there. Soon it became known that


that I love her, let her come and place her hand
in mine."
This was a strange and unusual method of
procedure, and it caused some wonderment
among those assembled. But all eyes were
turned expectantly in one direction--toward
the Goldsmith's daughter, who,. blushing very


'I ;~-





-







THE KING'S CASTLE IN NO MAN'S LAND.


much, now stepped forth, and hesitatingly ap-
proached the Prince. Her embarrassment was
great, but it was soon to be far greater, for when
she stretched out her hand to lay it in that of
Magnifico, the latter drew back haughtily and
said, with a meaning look:
"Upon my word, the girl must have gone
mad to think a king would condescend to "-
but at that very moment a messenger rushed
into the ball-room with the news that a large
train of oxen and pack-horses had just arrived,
bringing an enormous amount of wealth for
Prince Magnifico. And there also appeared a
strange old man with a long beard, whom the
Prince received with a tender embrace.
Good people," cried this last comer, ad-
dressing the astonished assemblage, "in Prince


Magnifico behold your lawful sovereign, the
long-lost son of your former king! -now most
happily restored to you. As for Avaro, he will
return no more. Greet, therefore, your rightful
lord."
At this revelation everybody was wild with
delight. The air was filled with the sounds of
rejoicing, and the entire country soon was ringing
with shouts of Long live King Magnifico "
But what about the Goldsmith's daughter ?
Well, the young King promptly told her that
he loved her very much; they were happily
married, and dwelt together in perfect accord
to the end of their lives.
So, although the. Goldsmith did not get to
be king, he lived to be the father of -a queen,
which certainly is something of an honor.


(To be continued.)


TEDDY'S DREAM AFTER GETTING HIS NEW CAMERA.
















































CHANGING DAYS.

BY RUDOLPH F. BUNNER.


SooN the days that hide behind
The little bedroom window-blind,
They that come and peep within
Eyes from dreamy sleep to win,
Soon they 'll bear a different face,
Soon they '11 wear another grace.

We shall greet them open-eyed,
Though behind white hills they hide;
We shall find them gone away,
Oh! so early, while we play.


But just now "betwixt, between,"
Grass grows yellow, grass grows
Green;
Days are short, or days are long,
As the cloud-flocks closer throng;
Or the gray cloud-curtains rise,
Showing sunsets to our eyes -
Sunset clouds and lights that lie
Trailing in the western sky,
While at dusk the wind, grown bold,
Plucks the loosened leaves of gold.







A THANKSGIVING-DAY PROBLEM.
(A Prize Puzzle. See page 84.)

BY MARY SEYMOUR.


WALTER and Grace have been making
merry, this Thanksgiving Eve, over my newly
acquired title of Colonial Dame." They do
not understand why I value it. I wish I could
interest them in those old pioneer days to which
I now seem to have a closer tie, but how to do
it is a problem. If only their curiosity can be
aroused in some way, the charm of the subject
will surely lead to a deeper interest and more
thoughtful study. It is worth trying, at least,
and as they both delight in the mystery that at-
taches to an unknown quantity, they shall be
supplied with something to puzzle them in the
quieter hours of their few days' vacation. I
will set Walter and Grace to thinking, with
just a hint of their personality; of --seme -of.
the people who made our country's history
in the earlier colonial days.
They will learn to reverence the names of
such men as the good bishop to whom'Pope
ascribed every virtue under heaven" (i), the
author of The Freedom of the Will (2), and
the self-denying Apostle of the Indians (3).
Their love of adventure will be stirred by the
perilous life of the colonist who named New
England (4), and by the strange career of the
Scotch seaman who, being sent on the ship
" Adventure to suppress a crime, committed it
himself and became an outlaw (5). They will
trace the long and tedious journeys of the ex-
plorer (6) who claimed Louisiana and named
it for his sovereign, and of.the missionary (7)
who, besides his companion, was the first Euro-
pean to see the Mississippi River after De Soto.
They will grieve for the fate of the navigator
(8) who, in a .ship with a luminous name, sailed
up the noble river by which he is best re-
membered, and afterward was left by a muti-
nous crew to perish in the waters of a great
bay also named after him.
They will marvel at the strange mixture of
austerity and credulity in the divine (9) who, in
reference to the Salem witchcraft, declared that
"the devils were familiar with Latin, Greek,


and Hebrew, but were less skilled in the In-
dian languages." They will wish that more
could be learned of the first child of English
descent born in America (ro) than merely her
name and parentage. They will follow with in-
terest the stormy paths of the colonial gover-
nors, among whom were the Head-
strong" (i ), after whose farm or bouwerij
the Bowery in New York is named, and the
illustrious statesman (12) to whom Milton re-
ferred as "young in years, but in sage counsel
old." Their admiration will be excited by the
generous efforts of the philanthropist (13) who
came to found a colony as a refuge for in-
solvent debtors, and they will mark the contrast
between him and the "Tyrant of New Eng-
land" (14).
The marriage of the man (15) who began
the first systematic cultivation of tobacco will
engage their attention. They will learn of the
captain (16) who silenced with drums the read-
ing of the hated governor's commission and
hid a charter in a famous tree, of the eloquent
young Englishman (17) who crossed the At-
lantic seven times to preach in America, and
of the colonist (18) on the lid of whose chest
was signed the political compact of the Pil-
grims on board the "Mayflower."
They will be sorry that the Virginia Rebel"
(19) is not remembered by a better title. They
will look with horror at the gallows erected
on Boston Common where a woman (20) was
hanged for belonging to a proscribed Chris-
tian sect. But turning from this, they will be
grateful to the governor (21) who appointed
the first Thanksgiving Day; and sent out four
men fowling, "that they might in a more special
manner rejoice together."
They will lament the fate of the old man (22)
who was pressed to death under heavy weights
for refusing to plead guilty or not guilty to the
charge of witchcraft, and will laugh at the bar-
gain made by the controversial woman (23)
who, with her adherents, bought the island which






A THANKSGIVING-DAY PROBLEM.


has been called the "Eden of America" for
forty fathoms of wampum, twenty hoes, and
ten coats.
Then there will be the delightful story of the
Indian woman who was presented at King
James's court as "The Lady Rebecca (24),
and the romance of the matrimonial envoy (25)
of the first commissioned military officer in New
England (26).
They will be reminded of the marvelous pos-
sibilities of small beginnings, as they learn of
the young clergyman (27) who gave half his
slender estate and half his library to found the
oldest college in America. They will honor the
humane and friendly sachem (28) who made
the first treaty with the white men in New
England, kept sacred for fifty years, and the
brave, high-minded naturalist (29) who won a
victory over the astonished Mohawks, when
for the first time they saw white men and
heard the sound of muskets.
They will learn of the lavish way in which
royalty bestowed power by the vast domain
granted the first lord proprietary (30) of the
State named after the Queen of Charles I., and


by the immense territory controlled by the man
(31) who made what Voltaire said was "the
only league between the aborigines and the
Christians which was never sworn to and never
broken." They will accord respect to the con-
scientious leader (32) of a colony who tried to
form a state with no laws but those of Moses,
and therefore would have no trial by jury.
They will note the difference between the
short-sighted governor (33) who thanked God
there were no free schools nor printing-presses
in his colony to breed sedition, and the man
(34) whose epitaph begins with the lines,
Born in America, in Europe bred,
In Africa traveled, and in Asia wed.

And surely a glow of noble impulse will be
kindled as they mark the single-hearted devo-
tion of the "Apostle of Soul-liberty" (35), the
first person in Christendom to establish civil
government on the doctrine of the liberty of
conscience.
So they, not I, shall solve the problem, and
so shall they learn something of the time when
Thanksgiving Day was young.


,t7


THE PARTY OVER THE FENCE: "Why don't you let me play on your team? My
hair 's all right, and I 'm a first-rate kicker."


7






W ryAg '


RaYT Ms. MYTl WgE
little rabbit, one
went out in the


field to


run,


its, two
did nt


know what to do.


little r
5aid:
climb


rabbits, three


Let


us


a tree.


little
Said:


on the ol


rabbits, four
Let's swing
d barn door i,


little
Said


rabb
they


'ITS




THE TEN LITTLE RABBITS.


1 little rabbits, five
Said: We're glad
just to be alive 41


little rabbits,


SIX
\We like to


pick


up sticks'


little rabbits
seven


Said: W


e wish


were el


we


little rabbits.
eight


Said: Come let


us run


through the gate"


little rabb
nine


Said: hen
5aid: Then


let us


Form in line.


little


rabbits,


fen


f-


was nt
VOL. XXIV.- II.


1'II1 got in line-and then-
it fun to see them run?


__II___~_I


Said:









THE CURIOSITY-SHOP


NAMING NAILS.

ANY boy who has been about a carpenter shop,
or has handled a saw and hammer himself, knows
all about the different kinds of nails,-fourpenny,
eightpenny, tenpenny, and so on,-and perhaps
he has sometimes wondered why the different sizes
are known as pennies."
Originally, an eightpenny nail, for example, was
called an "eight-pound" nail, because a thousand
nails of that particular size weighed eight pounds.
Carpenters were not particular about pronouncing
the names very clearly, and in a short time an
eight-pound nail was known as an "eight-pun"
nail; from that it became changed to "eight-pen; "
and then somebody, thinking "pen was a con-
traction for "penny," changed it to eightpennyy,"
and that 's the way it has remained to this-day. It
is somewhat curious that a pound should have
worked its way down to a penny, and that when
we say penny we really mean pound.



A "SETTING" HEN.

IS it not a strange thing that so many of us speak
of a setting" hen without realizing that it is not a
correct expression ? If we hear a farmer say, "My
hen is setting on her eggs," we think that sounds
all right; but should he say, "My boy is setting
on the grass," we would think he was not a very
good English scholar, and yet the one is as much
of a mistake as the other.
A hen does not set "; she sits on her eggs,
just as we say a boy sits" on his chair; but nev-
ertheless the mistake has been made so often, and
for so long a time, that to very many people it
would sound like a mistake to say the right thing
-a sitting hen.


"SETTING THE RIVER ON FIRE."

SOMETIMES, when a person wants to make an
unpleasant remark in a pleasant sort of way about
a dull boy, he will say, "That boy will never set
the river on fire." Now, that is all very true; for
even the smartest man in the world could never
set a stream of water on fire, and so perhaps many
of you who have heard this expression have won-
dered what is meant by setting the river on fire.
In England, many, many years ago, before the
millers had machinery for sifting flour, each family
was obliged to sift its own flour. For doing this, it
was necessary to use a sieve, called a temse, which
was so fixed that it could be turned round and
round in the top of a barrel. If it was turned too
fast the friction would sometimes cause it to catch
fire; and as it was only the smart, hard-working
boys who could make it go so fast as that, people


got into the way of pointing out a lazy boy by say-
ing that he would never set the temse on fire.
After a while these sieves went out of use, but as
there were still plenty of stupid boys in the world,
people kept on saying that they would never set
the temse on fire. Now, the name of the river
Thames is pronounced exactly like the word
" temse "; and so, after many years, those persons
who had never seen or heard of the old-fashioned
sieve thought that "setting the temse on fire"
meant setting the river Thames on fire. This ex-
pression became very popular and traveled far and
wide, until the people living near other streams
did not see why it was any harder for a slothful
boy to set the Thames on fire than any other river,
and so the name of the river was dropped, and
everybody after that simply said "the river,"
meaning the river of his particular city or town;
and that is how it is that people to-day talk of set-
ting the river on fire.



AN APPLE PROBLEM.

ONCE upon a time, there were two old men who
sat in the market early every morning and sold
apples. Each one had thirty apples, and one of the
old men sold two for a cent, and the other old man
sold three for a cent. In that way the first old man
got fifteen cents for his basket of apples, while the
second old man received ten cents; so that to-
gether they made twenty-five cents each day. But
one day the old apple-man who sold three for a
cent was too sick to go to the market, and he asked
his neighbor to take his apples and sell them for
him. This the other old man very kindly consented
to do, and when he got to the market with the two
baskets of apples, he said to himself, "I will put
all the apples into one basket, for it will be easier
than picking them out of two baskets." So he put
the sixty apples into one basket, and he said to
himself, Now, if I sell two apples for one cent,
and my old friend sells three for one cent, that is
the same thing as selling five apples for two cents.
Therefore I will sell five for two cents." When
he had sold the sixty apples he found he had
only twenty-four cents, which was right; because
there are twelve fives in sixty, and twice twelve are
twenty-four. But if the other old man had been
there, and each one had sold his apples separately,
they would have received twenty-five cents. Now,
how is that explained?



EAVESDROPPERS.

Do you know why a person who listens at a key-
hole is called an eavesdropper ?
About two hundred years ago, there was a cer-






THE CURIOSITY-SHOP.


tain very powerful secret society which would allow
no outsider to hear or see what went on at its meet-
ings. There were some people in those days, just
as there are now, who spent much of their time in
prying into other persons' affairs, and they tried in
all sorts of ways to discover what this society was
doing. They kept ori trying until several of them
were caught and punished, and that put an end to
their prowling around and listening at knot-holes
or chinks or the wall; for when a man was caught
at this trick he was condemned to be suspended for
a short time under the eaves of a shed while it was
raining hard, until the water ran in under his collar
and out at his shoes; and from that day until this
a prying person has been called an "eavesdropper."


REAL GIANTS.
WE have become so accustomed to looking for
giants only in fairy-tales and fables, that we are
apt to forget that there have been some real giants
in the world, and some of them have been quite
big enough to have been characters in a fairy-tale.
Perhaps one of the best known real giants is
Goliath. He was nine feet four inches tall, and
it is scarcely to be wondered at that he filled his
enemies with fear. Another giant mentioned in
the Bible was Og, king of Bashan. We judge he
was a giant from the fact that his bed was thirteen
and a half feet long, and unless he slept in a bed
entirely too big for him, he must have been much
larger and far more imposing than Goliath. Com-
ing down to later times, we hear of Gabara, an
Arabian, who lived in the first century of the
Christian era. He was a tremendous fellow-
nine feet nine inches in height. Then there was
Eleazer, who lived about the same time. He was
even bigger than the Arabian giant, and more
than a foot taller than Goliath; in fact, he was ten
feet six inches high--probably the biggest man
of whom we have any definite record. Several
centuries later came Andronicus II. He was also
a ten-footer, but lacked several inches of being as
tall as Eleazer. Charlemagne was another giant
ruler. He was eight feet tall, and was so strong
that he could squeeze together three horse-shoes
at once with his hands. Maximius, one of the
Roman emperors, was likewise a giant, being six
inches taller than Charlemagne. But the giants
are not all confined to ancient history. In the
beginning of the seventeenth century there lived
in England a man by the name of John Middleton,
who was nine feet three inches tall, and his hands
were seventeen inches long and eight and a half
inches broad. The present century has produced
a number of giants, but none of them have come
up to Goliath in their height. One of the largest
was Patrick Cotter, who died in 1865. He was
eight feet seven and a half inches -high. Some
of the others are Chang Woo Goo, the Chinese
giant, seven and a half feet tall; Captain Bates,
seven feet eleven inches; Gilly, a Swede, eight
feet in height; and Big Frank seven feet eight
inches. We do not hear much about real giant-
esses, but there have been several of them, one of


whom is said to have been over nine feet tall. Alice
Gordon, who died in 1737, was seven feet high.


BARBER POLES.
WHEN a man wants his whiskers trimmed or a
boy needs a hair-cut, he looks around for a place
that has a red:and-white pole in front of it, and as
soon as he sees such a pole he knows he has found
a barber shop. But why does a barber always
have this kind of a sign in front of his shop ?
In times gone by, before the world knew as
much about medicine as it does now, everybody
thought it was the proper thing to get rid of some
of his blood now and then, especially in spring-
time. Thiswas called blood-letting, and was done
by the barbers, who also pulled teeth, and did
several other things in those days besides cutting
hair. The operation of blood-letting required the
use of a small pole or stick, which the patient held
in his hand, and two bandages-one to wrap
around the arm before the cut was made, and the
other to bind the wound after the bleeding was
over. Two bandages, ready for use, were kept
wound around a red pole and displayed in the
door or window as a sign to the public. After a.
time, instead of going to the trouble of winding
strips of cloth about the pole, white stripes were
painted on the pole to represent the bandages, and
from that day until this barbers have always used
that kind of a sign. There are very few barbers
to-day who know'why they use a red-and-white
pole, and some of them try to give it a patriotic
meaning by painting their signs red, white, and
blue. This is all very well, for a man has a right
to do what he likes with his sign, but it takes away
what little sense still remains in using a blood-let-
ting sign for a barber shop.


MUSTACHES.
TALKING of barbers very naturally brings to mind
the interesting subject of mustaches; for what boy
is there who does not look eagerly forward to the
proud time when he can raise a mustache? The
wearing of mustaches is such a universal custom
that we might suppose it never had a special mean-
ing or beginning; but the fact is, that it did have
a beginning several hundred years ago, and served
a very important purpose for a while. You will
remember that for several centuries the Moors had
possession of Spain, but were finally conquered or
driven out by the Christians. The Moors were be-
lievers in Mohammedanism, and havingmade many
converts, it was not always an easy matter to tell a
Mohammedan from a Christian; and as there were
constant conflicts between the people of the two
religions, the Christians decided to adopt some
sign by which they could be distinguished from
the unbelievers. So they let the hair grow on the
upper lip and on the chin, in order to produce, as
nearly as possible, the form of a cross, and in
that way they were able to recognize one another
at all times, and flock together in times of danger.


~ _O_ C __~









LIST OF PRIZES OFFERED FOR ANSWERS TO "A THANKSGIVING-DAY
PROBLEM."


FOR the best answers to the Thanksgiving-day puzzle on page 78, according to the conditions of the compe-
tition, ST. NICHOLAS offers the following prizes:
One prize of Five Dollars.
Two prizes of Four Dollars each.
Five prizes of Three Dollars each.
Ten prizes of Two Dollars each.
Twelve prizes of One Dollar each.
These, amounting to sixty dollars, will be given in the form of brand-new one-dollar bills. Directions for pre-
paring and forwarding answers are given below. The competition is limited to subscribers, or regular readers, of
ST. NICHOLAS from the age of ten to the age of eighteen years inclusive.
The Committee of Judges in awarding prizes will take into account not only the correctness of the answers, but
the age of the sender and the neatness of the manuscript. All answers must be received at the office of.ST. NICH-
OLAS before November 15, 1896, and no competitor may send more than one copy.
Do not write letters or notes that require a reply, as the Editor cannot undertake to answer questions concern-
ing the competition. The conditions are fully stated here.
Each number represents a question to be answered by the name of a man or woman. Arrange the answers
in the order of the questions, and number them on the left-hand margin.
Give your name, age, and address at the top of each page of the answers, leaving 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 envelop Prize Puzzle."




THE LETTER-BOX.


EDITORIAL NOTES.

WE gladly avail ourselves of the permission kindly
accorded by Mr. Robert Goelet to reprint the famous
portrait of his little daughter Beatrice, which forms the
frontispiece of the present number. The original paint-
ing by John S. Sargent is one of the masterpieces of
American art, and we rejoice in the pleasure which the
engraved copy will give to our readers. It is pleasant
to think, also, that in days to come many a one, young
and old, in turning over the pages of the magazine, will
be delighted to come upon this rare picture a beautiful
figure of a sweet little child, marvelously portrayed by
one of the greatest of our American painters.


PORTLAND, ME.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am on a trip around the New
England coast, and a few days ago, while at Portsmouth,
I crossed the river to the Kittery Navy Yard, where I
saw the old frigate Constitution."
The Constitution is moored alongside of an old ship-
house. She is, painted yellow, and is housed over by
a large roof. On the end of the poop deck, facing the
bow, are printed in raised, gilt letters, "Don't give up
the ship," which is the watchword of the American
navy.
There is very little left of the original ship; and these
are two posts, called bitts, which were used for hoist-
ing the mizzen topsails. The bottom timbers are very


rotten, and the ship takes in two feet of water per
day. I will now close, and remain
Your interested reader, A. C. LANGDON.
THIS letter will recall to our readers the article about
the famous frigate, "Constitution," which was printed
in ST. NICHOLAS for February, 1895. Many readers
will remember, also, the incident recorded in that article
of a boy's leap from the masthead of the Constitution;
and in connection with this we gladly print the following
letter from Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont. Two corre-
spondents questioned the truth of the incident, soon after
our article was published, and an editorial note relating
to the incident was printed in ST. NICHOLAS for June,
1895. Mrs. Fr6mont's letter seems to confirm the story
that a boy did really leap from the masthead of a United
States frigate, and she states that he was a son of Com-
modore Rodgers.
Los ANGELES.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: By chance I read your editorial
note (June number, 1895) referring to the jump from the
masthead of a boy on the old "Constitution." I do
not know the ballad, nor have I seen the February num-
ber to which you refer. But the fact itself I was familiar
with in my early life -told me again and again by a
young daughter of Commodore Rodgers. A pet monkey
had snatched off her brother's cap, and run with it up the
mast- I think Frederick was the boy's name. He fol-
lowed it, dangerously high, when his father was called.
Coming on deck, he took in the situation, and met it






THE LETTER-BOX.


with the order to Fred, "Jump overboard! which he
did. The atmosphere and inherited habit of instant, un-
questioning obedience was the trait of Fred's mind.
His not to reason why."
Added, was faith in his father.
Truth is a force of nature, and is always worth follow-
ing up. Where it illustrates beautiful trust in a parent,
it is more than ever good to make sure of its comforting
evidence.
Young Rodgers was drowned by the swamping of a
small boat in the bay of New York, while still very young.
JESSIE BENTON FRA.MONT.


ST. NICHOLAS gladly prints the following clever verse
entitled "The Elfin Kite," and also four word-puzzles in
rhyme -all written by a little Chicago boy only eight
years old.
THE ELFIN KITE.

BY STARR HANFORD LLOYD.

ONCE on a time, one summer night,
A merry elf sent up a kite;
And when he let it fly away,
It sailed so fast, by night and day,
It reached the blue sky very soon,
And ever since has been the moon.

CROSS-WORD ENIGMAS.
MY first is in rough, but not in kind,
My second is in thought, but not in mind;
My third is in bring, but not in take,
My fourth is in pudding, but not in cake;
My fifth is in single, but not in pair,
My whole is a bird that flies in the air.
My first is in slipper, but. not in boot,
My second is in aim, but not in shoot;
My third is in rain, but not in hail,
My fourth is in kite, but not in tail;
My whole is a well-known singer.
My first is in robber, but not in thief,
My second is in truth, but not in belief;
My third is in tiger, but not in bear,
My fourth is in rabbit, but not in hare;
My fifth is in sea, but not in land,
My sixth is in brass, but not in band;
My whole is used all over the land.
My first is in think, but not in tell,
My second is in spring, but not in well;
My third is in swim, but not in float,
My fourth is in ship, but not in boat;
My fifth is in bruise, but not in hurt,
My sixth is in clay, but not in dirt;
My seventh is in French, but not in Dutch,
And my whole a dude likes very much.

YONKERS, N. Y.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am ten years of age, and
like you very much. I can hardly wait for you to come.
I am collecting stamps, and have collected eleven hun-
dred, all different. I have been collecting ever since I
was six.
I hope to see this letter printed.
I had a gray squirrel. His name was "Dick.' He
used to run around thehouse with me, and take nuts out of
my pocket, and eat out of my hand. One morning I came
downstairs and found him dead. My uncle said a cat


or weasel frightened him to death, as squirrels are very
timid animals. Your interested reader,
ALLEN S. DAVENPORT.

SAN RAFAEL, CALIFORNIA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As you have now given prizes
several times, and the competing children had to be ten
years of age, I write to ask you if you will not do some-
thing for the children under ten. I am only eight, and I
should so like to try for a prize.
Your loving friend, MARION ANGELLOTTI.
Yes, Marion, we will remember your request.

SELMA, ALA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: You have been an inmate of
our home for nearly nine years, owing to the kindness
of a dear friend.
I am thirteen years old, and have a sister eleven, and
four brothers.
I am very fond of cats. Not long ago one of my dear
little white kittens had a fit, and the boys carried it to a
field and shot it. Its name was "Mr. Hobbs." "Dearest,"
who reallyis Mr. Hobbs's mother, and" Fauntleroy," the
other ball of fur, miss it very much. I had an "Earl,"
but he scratched the baby, so I had to give him up.
I am very much interested in stamps, but my collec-
tion is slim, as I am a beginner.
Selma is a dear little city, situated on the north side of
the Alabama River. The streets are wide, and bor-
dered with grand old oaks. There are many handsome
buildings, considering the size of the place. I have al-
ways lived here, and love my home dearly.
I remain your constant reader,
JULIA BLAIR B-.

VILLA ESCULAPE, KIFISSIA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little Greek boy nine
years old. I have passed my examinations very well,
and we came to Kifissia for the summer, where papa
built a nice house called Villa Esculape. The house is
finished, but the garden is not yet. Papa is having a
little house built for the hens.
I have a little tortoise in Athens named Flack," and
my brother has another called Louis." I have also two
cats; one is "Blanc-blanc," and her kitten, "Black." I
love Blanc-blanc. I found her on a road, one day,
brought her home, and kept her ever since. She was
a nice little kitten and her eyes were closed. I gave
away the other little ones that I had, and kept her.
I had such pity for her; she would have died had I not
found her that day.
We had great fun here the day before yesterday.
Papa hired two donkeys for us, and we went trotting to
Keffallari with our servant. I love the country, and am
so glad to stay here for three months.
Mama knows many American ladies, and likes them
very much.
I love ST. NICHOLAS, it has such a lot of interesting
stories. I like very much "His Father's Price." I
know French very well. I read more English and
French stories than Greek ones.
We have fireworks here at the station every Saturday
and Sunday about nine o'clock in the evening. One
ship all lighted up fell down off the line. Happily, no
one was burned, but all were afraid and ran away.
Your loving reader, EPAMINONDAS P. CAVADIAS.


AMERICAN SCHOOL, ATHENS, GREECE.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are now much excited
about Crete, where the Greeks and Turks are fighting.


_ I~ _1_







THE LETTER-BOX.


Small bands of Cretans have been coming to Athens
lately to stir up the people, and they sit in caf6s and tell
the crowds that gather about them their troubles. They
are tall and broad-chested men, and wear big baggy
trousers, like the French Zouaves.
The Cretan women have given these men ear-rings and
other valuables to sell and raise money for ammunition.
A few days ago, at midnight, five hundred of these
insurgents left for Crete, armed to the teeth. These
men are going back to die rather than stand the Turks'
hard measures.
There is only one factory in Greece for turning out
cartridges, and this one can turn out only 1500 a day.
There was a slight explosion there a few days ago.
I am an American boy twelve years old, and have lived
in Greece four years. I alWays look forward to the end
of the month to see you, dear ST. NICHOLAS.
Your interested reader, GARDNER RICHARDSON.


SAGINAW, MICH.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Although we have taken you
for more than eight years, I have never before written to
you; but do not think that it is because I do not appre-
ciate you, for I could not possibly get along if it were
not for your coming once a month. I have been sick
ever since the first of January, '95, but am now much
better, and hope soon to be as well as ever. I have a
fine little black French-Canadian pony that was given me
last fall, which I have already almost learned to ride. His
name is" Dick." I wish to tell you about the experience
one of my sister's kittens had. When it was quite small,
adog--arat-terrier, I believe--pounced suddenlyuponit
one day, and shook it severely, breaking, as it afterward
proved, one of its hind legs. When we first discovered
its condition, we thought that perhaps its leg was only
out of joint, and not liking to kill it, we took it to a doc-
tor,-a friend of ours,-thinking that if it was so he
could pull it into place without any trouble; but be-
fore we knew it, he was bringing it up, its leg in a plas-
ter cast. He had chloroformed it, fixed its leg, and
brought it up to us, and it was still unconscious. Well,
the cat went around with the cast on for a couple of
weeks, and then we soaked it off in warm water, and that
cat is as well to-day as any cat.
Your ever-devoted reader, DANIEL W. HARDIN.

TRINIDAD, COLO.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live three miles from Trini-
dad. We live in the valley of the Las Animas River,
and can see the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, nearly
eighty miles distant. When we climb a hill we can see
the Spanish Peaks.
This is more of a mining than a farming country.
There are three large coal-mines within a few miles of
my home. The people around here are nearly all Mexi-
cans. On that account, though we live in the country,
we drive to town to school. I have been going to school
for four years now.
I am ten years old, and I have three brothers and two
sisters. I am the middle girl.
Your faithful reader, FREDA HILL.


COHASSET, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken your magazine
for two years, and I like it very much.
The other day I went up to Boston, and went down
on the "Chute." I don't know as you know what it
looks like, so I will tell you. It is very much like a to-
boggan-slide. Half of it has cracks with water running
down through them. In the middle of this half there is
a track. On the other half there is no water, only a track
which cars run up. On the other track a boat goes
down. The people get in the cars and ride to the top;
there they get into the boat and shoot down into a pond
at the bottom. Good-by, from DOROTHY BOLLES.

IPSWICH, MASS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are two friends of yours
who live in the historical old town of Ipswich, in Essex
County, Mass.
We saw, a few months ago, in your magazine, a poem
on Ipswich. A few days ago we went to the unveiling
of a memorial tablet to some of the well-knownmen who
have lived and worked here, and the orator spoke of the
false alarm given, that the British troops had landed on
Ipswich Beach, and were advancing toward the town.
When he said this we instantly thought of the poem.
We remain your sincere friends,
JULIA H. and ELIZABETH T-


HIGHLAND PARK, ILL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are spending the summer
at Highland Park. Our place is right by the lake, on a
high bluff.
We have a family of cats the mother and her three
kittens. One day a northeasterly storm came, and the
waves were very big. After supper papa went out and
saw the mother cat down at the beach, right close to the
water. Every time a wave came in she would spring
back and watch her opportunity to catch a fish. At last
she caught one about six inches long. She then brought
it up the bluff. When she saw papa she looked as if she
had been stealing chickens, and sneaked off with it to
her kittens.
We thought it very strange that she should take so
much pains to catch fish for her family when they are
well fed. We never heard of cats going fishing before,
and thought you might be interested.
Is it not an unusual thing for cats to go fishing?
ESTHER R. CUSTER.


WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received: Edna B. Mastick, Eleanor
Hall, Cynthia Arter, Cosette Minton, J. Marion Lewis,
Charlie S. Bullon, Helen M. S,, Lydia H. L., Winifred
Mary Elwell, F. F., Miriam S., Alice M. Gorham, Jessie
Laura Dolland, Nellie W. Staples, H. L. Warner, Ger-
trude E. H., Anna Q. C., Margaret M. Thomessom,
Julia Colby, Lily Bernard, Virginia L. Austin, Julia and
Esther B., D. H. Cheairs.























ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE OCTOBER NUMBER.
A BUDGET OF BOXES. I. Letter. 2. Coal. 3. Snuff. 4. Pill. Banjo. 3. Kettle. 4. Mandolin. 5. Hatchet. 6. Jug. 7. Knife.
5. Match. 6. Cake. 7. Chatter. 8. Band. 9. Hat. ao. Spice. 8. Scorpion.
ii. Powder. 12. Jewel. 13. Music. 4. Cash. ZIGZAG. The Colossus of Rhodes. Cross-words: I. Timothy.
DIVIDED CITIES. I. Arch-angel. 2. Liver-pool. 3. Ham-burg. 2. Thither. 3. Theresa. 4. Bracket. 5. Teutons. 6. Whistle.
4. Can-ton. 5. My-sore, 6. Washing-ton. 7. Mad-rid. 8. Leg- 7. Galileo. 8. Aimless. 9. Prussia. ao. Refusal. ii. Husband.
horn. 9. Mus-cat. so. Tehe-ran. Ii. Cay-enne. 12. Del-hi. a2. Wonders. 13. Francis. 14. Grecian. 15. Schemes. 16.
OBLIQUE RECTANGLE. I. A. 2. Art. 3. Arrow. 4. Tours. Scholar. Holiday. aS. upiter. io. Bishops.
SWring, Snare. 7. Grand. 8. Ensue. 9. Dunce. io. CHARADE. Mogul.
aclat. ii. Eaten. a1. Tehee. 13. Needs. 14. Edict. 15. Scare. CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Armenia. Cross-words: I. drAma. 2.
16. Tryst. 17. Est. 18. T. foRge. 3. leMon. 4. whEel. 5. fuNny. 6. knIfe. 7. plAte.
WORD-SQUARE. I. Flame. a. Lorel. 3. Armil. 4. Meine. 5. DIAMONDS CONNECTED BY A SQUARE. I. O. 2. Aye. 3.
Ellen. Aisle. 4. Oysters. 5. Eleve. 6. Ere. 7. S. II. i. B. 2. Met.
SEVERAL SYLLABLES. i. The quality of mercy is not strained. Merry. 4. Berries. 5. Tries. 6. Yes. 7. III. Basi
2. Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay. Aware. 3. Samoa. 5. Irous. 5. Leash. IV. N. A. a. Ar.
3. Alarm. 4. Arabian. 5. Triad. 6. Mad. 7. N. V. a. A. .
ILLUSTRATED FINAL ACROSTIC. Roentgen. I. Mortar. 2. Ute. 3. Ultra. 4. Attract. 5. Erase. 6. Ace. 7. T.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the i5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE AUGUST NUMBER were received, before August 15th, from M. McG.- Jersey Quar-
tette "- Josephine Sherwood- L. O. E. Sigourney Fay Nininger- Nessie and Freddie- Morton Atwater Katharine S. Doty -
Lucy L. Atwater.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE AUGUST NUMBER were received, before August 15th, from Alma Floeckher, i -Fedora Edgar, 2
- Ralph Garretson, I E. J. Hatch and H. P. Gill, 3 Louise H. Curtis, 3 Paul Reese, i Helen C. Marble, i "May and '79,"
8--Virginia Bartle, Nannie G. Clay, Eunice H. Linsly, G. B. Dyer, o Erlmah Livermore Paulette, 4- Katharine L.
Baird, i--Georgianna A. Hallock, 3-Elizabeth G. Roper, ix-"Dondy Small," xr- Florence and Edna, 7-Florence Winslow, x-
R. G. and L. S., Sarah L. Wadley, 2- Gladys E. Vause, 2 -Effie K. Talboys, 1o- Allie M, Davison, i- Warren B. Blake and B.
W., 3 -Claudice Piper, 5- Helen L. Enos, i-Wm. A. Lochren, I -"Jamaica Plain Trio," 2--ClaraD. Lauer Co., xo- Randolph
S. Bourne, 6- Caroline E. Chase, 4 "Brynhild," I- Betty G., 3- M., K., and K., 9-Allil and Adi, ao- Chiddingstone, 8- In
the Mountains," 7-W. Y. W., 8-A. Poirer, 4- Marguerite Sturdy, 8-" Two Little Brothers," io- Jo and I, x Marjory Gane, 7
-" Woodside Folks," 8 Daniel Hardin and Co., 5 Mammaand Jack, 5-" Merry and Co.," 8-Belle A. Goldman, 6- Laura M. Zin-
ser, 7-A. M. Z., xx- Grace Edith Thallon, x Camp Lake," ao-S. Stankowitch, 2-" The Butterflies," 4-Victor J. West, 3.


WORD-SQUARE.

I, PART of the face. 2. A famous city. 3. Lyric
poems. 4. A point of the compass.
L. AND M. HARDENHOOK.


ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS.


*5*5
V f i

* # *
x
.


I. UPPER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In crystal. 2.
A globe. 3. A bay-window. 4. Things of small im-
portance. 5. A feminine name. 6. A meadow. 7. In
crystal.
II. UPPER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In crystal.
2. To allow. 3. A morning reception. 4. Divers. 5.
An old word meaning "round." 6. To consume. 7.
In crystal.
III. CENTRAL DIAMOND: I. In crystal. 2. Ready.


3. To uncover. 4. A breed of dog. 5. An attempt.
6. A snake-like fish. 7. In crystal.
IV. LOWER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In crystal
2. An islet. 3. A feminine nickname. 4. Baleful. 5.
Weary. 6. Three-fourths of a word meaning "to
guide." 7. In crystal.
V. LOWER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: I. In crystal.
2. A cover. 3. A rocking stone. 4. A barge. 5.
Noted the time of. 6. A masculine nickname. 7. In
crystal. K. S. D. AND W. A.

RHYMED WORD-SQUARE.

A NEEDY rover is my first;
My second is in cunning versed;
My third, a very common stone;
My fourth, more silent, you will own.
My fifth are lords of noble line.
Now guess this five-word square of mine.
MARJORIE S. COMSTOCK.

NOVEL ACROSTIC.

EACH of the five words described contains four letters.
When rightly guessed, and placed one below another,
the initial letters will spell a word signifying poets. The
twenty letters which form the five words may be rear-
ranged so as to form the surnames of four famous poets.
CROSS-WORDS: I. Animals that fly by night. 2. Cer-
tain small insects. 3. To plant and fix deeply in the
earth. 4. To refuse. 5. A tax or fine.
NELLIE R. T.







THE RIDDLE-BOX.


ZIGZAG.

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
surname of a famous general.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A kitchen utensil. 2. A field
flower. 3. A proposal. 4. 'The staff of life." 5. A
garden flower. 6. A large animal. 7. A kind of fur.
8A book used in studying geography. 9. A bird.
J. L. M.

DISSECTED OBJECT-SPELLING.

EXAMPLE: Dissect a month into a bird, a tree, a meas-
ure, and an English river. Answer, July. Jay, yew, ell,
Wye.
I. Dissect a cover into a hint, an animal, a facial or-
gan, part of a house, and a beverage.
2. Dissect an entanglement into a body of water, an
exclamation, a pronoun, and a measure.
3. Dissect an animal into an insect, a tree, part of a
house, and a measure.
4. Dissect a guide into a vegetable, part of the face, a
measure, an exclamation, and a drink.
5. Dissect what all ought to do into a river, a tree, a
Chinese plant, and another river.
6. Dissect an offense against right into a command to
an animal, a pronoun, a feature, a measure, and a bever-
age. L. E. JOHNSON.

ILLUSTRATED DIAGONAL.


of brush. 5. Take five hundred from to train, and leave
a little brook. 6. Take fifty from a flat stone, and leave
to drudge. 7. Take one hundred from to delight, and
leave to hurt. 8. Take fifty from heaps, and leave pas-
try. 9. Take five from low ground, and leave a bever-
age. Io. Take fifty from a blaze, and leave renown. II.
Take fifty from insipid, and leave plump. 12. Take
fifty from fast, and leave parts of a table. A. POIRIER.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
MY primals spell the name of a famous poet; my finals
spell the name of his most famous hero.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): I. A perch. 2. A
letter of the Greek alphabet. 3. A fish. 4. One of the
Muses. 5. Prices. 6. Worthless matter. 7. A bev-
erage. 8. A combination. 9. To pardon. io. A rel-
ative. In. Pertaining to the sun.
EFFIE K. TALBOYS.

CHARADE.
WHEN the wild wind, roaring, blows,
Then the yachtsman always knows
That he must try another one
If he 'd get home by set of sun.
When the clock, with sure refrain,
Speaks its words, again, again,
With its monotone so sweet,
Two your ears will always greet.
When the soldiers in a fight
Are well arranged, to left and right,-
Ah, the general 's master then
Of my whole, in ruling men.
ELIZABETH SCHWEFEL.

DIAMOND.

I. IN animal. 2. Anything woven in meshes. 3. A
fruit. 4. A weight. 5. In animal.
C. ROSAMOND TROWBRIDGE.

CROSS WITH SQUARED ENDS.



* *
3 ^ # tf ^ 4
.
iC .


ALL the words pictured contain the same number of
letters. When rightly guessed and placed one below the
other, in the order numbered, the diagonal (from the up-
per left-hand letter to the lower right-hand letter) will
spell the name of a celebrated English navigator.

SUBTRACTIONS.
EXAMPLE: Take fifty from a shallow dish and leave
the head. Answer, P-l-ate, pate.
I. Take five from to justify, and leave to show. 2.
Take two fifties from even, and leave nightfall. 3. Take
one thousand from a month, and leave to curve. 4.
Take one hundred from a movable seat, and leave a kind


2

I. UPPER SQUARE: I. Four fifths of satin. 2. 4840
square yards. 3. Part of the eye. 4. A cosy home.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: I. Young animals. 2. A
mental image. 3. Half. 4. Four fifths of satin.
III. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. Four fifths of lasso.
2. Affection. 3. To acknowledge frankly. 4. Con-
nected by threads.
IV. LOWER SQUARE: I. A performance by one per-
son. 2. By word of mouth. 3. A substance emitted
by a volcano. 4. Four fifths of lasso.
V. CENTRAL DIAMOND: I. In fact. 2. A lovely
lady, the personification of truth, in Spencer's Faerie
Queene." 3. Five eighths of chanting. 4. Deed. 5.
In truth.
From I to 2, and from 3 to 4, each spell a familiar
name. DAVID H. DODGE.


THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.













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