• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Playmate sketches
 Back Matter
 Back Cover






Title: Playmate sketches profusely illustrated
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00087384/00001
 Material Information
Title: Playmate sketches profusely illustrated
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Donohue, Henneberry & Co
Donohue & Henneberry ( Printer )
Publisher: Donohue Henneberry & Co.
Place of Publication: Chicago
Manufacturer: Donohue & Henneberry
Publication Date: c1898
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Boys -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Girls -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Indians -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Playmates -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Human-animal relationships -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Loyalty -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Fairies -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1898   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1898   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1898   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
 Notes
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note: Title page engraved.
General Note: Some text in double columns.
General Note: Pictorial cover.
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087384
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224575
notis - ALG4841
oclc - 262616002

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
        Page 3
    Frontispiece
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Playmate sketches
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
    Back Matter
        Page 137
    Back Cover
        Page 138
        Page 139
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PLAYMATE SKET
PLAYMATE .SKETCHES


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COPYRIGHT, 1898
DONOHUE, HENNEBERRY & CO.




































PRESS OF
DONOHUE A HENNEBERRYT
CHICAGO.









The Dancing Lesson.

Welcome Home from School.


T is easy enough to see
that those little folks,
two of them at least,
are welcomed home by
their friends, the kit-
tens.' It is also as
easy to see that one of the little girls is
a visitor, who is not used to kittens.
The little black one in its mistress'
hands, is quite willing to make friends,
but the stranger is plainly afraid of
its claws. The boy, over whom the
other pussies are crawling, looks up in
mild surprise at such unusual timidity,
while the old cat purrs about, the very
picture of happy contentment with her
lot, and confidence in her little master.
a o t
AIr Old Saw.
A DEAR little maid came skipping out'
In the glad new day with merry shout;
With dancing feet and with flowing
hair,
She sang with joy in the morning air.
"Don't sing before breakfast; you'll cry
before nigkt! "
What a croak, to darken the child's
delight!
And the stupid old nurse, again and
again,
Repeated the ancient, dull refrain.
The child paused, trying to understand;
But her eyes saw the great world rain-
bow-spanned ;
Her light little feet hardly touched the
earth,
And her soul brimmed over with inno-
cent mirth.
"Never mind-don't listen-O sweet
little maid!
Make sure of your morning song," I
said,


" And if pain must meet you, why, all
the more
Be glad of the rapture that came
before."


The Dancing Lesson. -A Cat
and a Stork, who had a high opinion of
their powers of music and dancing,
thought they would have a private re-
hearsal. Pussy, with all the airs of a
professor, sings her best, accompany-
ing herself on the accordeon, while
Miss Stork flies round and round and
makes some wonderful efforts at danc-
ing, trying to turn on one claw like a


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ballet-dancer. They are making such
a clamor,. that they are not aware of
the presence of Mr. Rat, who evidently
does not take any great delight in
either music or dancing. The thought
of being caught under the claw of Miss
Stork makes him feel nervous, and he
knows full well if Pussy catches a
sight of him, the concert will come to
an end in short order.


..a: .. ., .








TPhe Ti/l~imn. ri,'


Th1e ComMron Crow.


SAW! CAW!" Every-
body knows the crow.
It is a sleek, black, de-
liberate sort of a bird,
feeding on insects and
Almost anything else it
can pick up, during the winter and
part of the Spring and Fall, but feast-,
ing on grain, seeds, and small birds
during the summer. It is not a popu-
lar bird, and is supposed to be fonder
than it ought to be of corn, peas, and
other seeds we sow in our gardens and
fields. Hence' it is that it is generally
warned off by the farmers, who invent
all kinds of scarecrows to frighten it, and
who shoot it mercilessly whenever they
can. But, as the crow is a very cun-
ning bird, and strong on the wing, it
is not easily killed, and some people
think that even the crow is not quite
" so black as he is painted," but does
good by eating up the grubs.

Business Maxinrs for Boys.
ATTEND carefully to details.
Best things are difficult to get..
Cultivate promptness and regularity.
Do not seek a quarrel.
Endure trials patiently.,
Fight life's battles bravely.
Give what you can from principle.
He who follows two hares, is sure to
catch neither.
Injure no one's reputation or busi-
ness.
Join hands only with the virtuous.
Keep your mind from evil thoughts.
Learn to think and act for yourself.
Make few friends.
Never try to appear what you are not.
Observe good manners.
Pay your debts promptly.


Ques~ti:on no man's veracity without
cause..
Respect your word as your bond.
Say "No" firmly and respectfully
when necessary.
Touch not, taste not, handir- not,'the
cup which intoxicates.
Use your own brains rather than
those of others.
Virtue, not pedigree, is a sign of no-
bility.
What is just and honorable, do.
S'Xtend to every one a kindly saluta-
tion.
Yield not to discoira'eiemnts.
Zealously labor for the right,
& success will be yours.


The TitnMouse.
HERE is a regular little Yankee bird.
It is a native of the Eastern States,
and stops there
right along,
winter and l .
summer. It is
a very friendly
bird, anl seems
to .njo) the so-
ciety of other
birds, and even
of human, be- "
in l;. if they do
not fri ghten it
a wa y. It is
s omet i m e s
cal ed. the
Chick-a-dee, from its pn -;i t Warble,
which cannot be mistaken. It live
on cit(erpillars and other insects and
their. eggs and larvae, and is therefore
a useful as well as a merry little
fellow. :: .


________ ______________


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(ome fporelt eeC.--whe \hillow.

HE next summer Joe and Charlie made Grandfather Green
another visit, and remembering the interesting stories he had
told them of forest trees, they were anxious to gather further
information upon the same subject. So, before they had fairly
gotten rested from their trip, Charlie said:
"Now, grandpa, we want to learn more about trees while we are here
this summer; and, while we have been reading a great deal about different
kinds of trees, Joe and I both think you can tell us a great many things we
cannot get out of books."
"Very well," said grandfather, "I should be only too glad to help you gain
useful information. Let us go down to the river fishing to-morrow and while
there we can, perhaps, learn something of trees that grow in the low-
lands."
The boys were delighted, not only at the idea of learning more about
trees, but at the prospect of going fishing as well, for what boy is not fond of
this sport The next morning bright and early the boys were up and searched
the premises for fishing tackle. Grandfather had provided for that, however,
and told them if they would only get the worms for bait he would find fishing
rods, hooks and lines. It took the boys but a little while to gather a sufficient
supply of bait. for the day, and then, with a lunch basket that grandma in-
sisted they should take with them, they started. While on the road their grand-
father told them many stories of forest trees and forest life, but said, as some
large willow trees were found upon the river bank, he had concluded to tell
them about them. On reaching the river the boys found the willows as grand-
father had said and their interest was much aroused. Before beginning
the sport of the day the boys wanted to hear about the willow trees, ),
lying down in the shade of one of the trees, they prepared themselves to
listen.
Grandfather said: "The willow trees that you see around us here, boys,
are some of the largest that can be found anywhere. As a rule the willow does-
not grow very large. It separates into many branches a few feet from the
ground and spreads out as you see around us. The branches are very slender.
The leaves are so thick and so heavy that the limbs all bend downward as you
see. The tree affords as dense a shade as any other. Willows are found
almost wholly in low-lands. There are quite a number of different kinds, as
you know. The lumber from the tree has but little commercial value., The.















































































































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tree" branches so near the ground ,that logs of any length cannot be obtained
trom it Willow is used, however, for quite a number of purposes. The trunk
and larger limbs of the tree are worked into base ball and cricket bats, but I
presume you boys know more about these things than I do. When we used to
play ball and cricket when I was a boy we did not do it with machine-made
bats and balls which you use to-day. The willow is valuable for this purpose
because it is light and strong. The tree and branches are cut into proper
lengths and split and each strip is cut by a lathe.
"The Indians used to weave baskets out of willow twigs and some of then
are very beautiful indeed.. The twigs after being. cut and dried are plaited
together. You will, perhaps, find inyour own home a, number of baskets of
different shapes and sizes made from these willow twigs. The twigs -are very
pliable; that is, they will bend without breaking, which makes them especially
useful for this purpose. The willow is used in making chairs and rockers of
various kinds. The willow is also used in making fences. I can show you a
willow or hedge fence in the lower pasture if you wish. Only a few years ago
I wanted a fence there and I had the men gather a lot of willow cuttings,- we
went down there one day in early summer, and stuck these willow slips into the
ground a few inches apart, and as a result there is a fence there to-day which
stock cannot easily get through. You.will find a great many of these hedge
fences throughout the country, especially in low-lands. Willow trees make a
rery good fuel when dry; it is, however, too light to burn very long, but it
makes a hot, quick fire and your grandmother, thinks it is the best wood we get
here for summer use. I'think that is about all I can tell you, about willows.
Now, boys, if we are going to do any fishing, it is time we should
begin."
"Well," said Joe, I never thought there was so much to learn about trees.
I believe I would like to live here on the farm with you all summer,, grandpa,
.uid do nothing but study trees."
"I may say, I should like to have you with me, boys," said grandpa, "and
I you will only stay with me until fall I think you will go back to your city
Some regular little foresters, but we must not wait any longer. Get your'tackle
-eady and we will see if there are any tih in this stream."

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S GREAT many years ago, about the year eighteen hundred'
when some of the eastern states were considered as being
"quite far WMestr,' there nestled at the foot of one of the Green
S Mountain ranges in Vermont the little country village of
Farmington. Close around it clustered a number of farm
c d.vellings, surrounded by their fields of tilled land, but for
Sthe most part it was comparatively a new country, and the settle-
S ments few and far between. By climbing a short distance up the moun-
tain slope, however, one could see a few scattered farm-houses here and
there in the distance; and the frequent breaks in the trees that stood in bold
relief against the horizon showed where the woodman's ax had been busy
opening up a new. road through the forest, hewing out timbers for a cabin, or
cleaning a patch of ground for the Indian corn.
In one of the farthest of these cabins lived Edward Solis and his family,
consisting of a wife and three children. The eldest, Jennie, was but eleven
years of age, while Helen had just seen her fifth birthday, and the youngest
was a baby of a year or so old. The family had but lately moved there -from
Connecticut, and had hardly got settled in their new home as the spring
opened.
One day in early summer Mr. Solis found he must go to a neighboring
town at some distance to obtain some farm appliances which he could not get
at the village.. The journey-would take him several days from home, as the
roads were rendered almost impassable from an exceedingly heavy rain, so, bid.
ding adieu to his family, he started early on the following morning.
The day passed as usual with the family, but at night it was'observcd that
the baby, who had during the day crept out unseen, and had been found pad-
dling in the water, had taken a severe cold and was flushed with fever. The
fever increased so rapidly during the night, and baffling all Mrs. Solis's simple
Remedies and kill, by morning she determined to summon to her aid the vil-
lage doctor.
But whom should she send? There seemed to. be but one messenger--
Jennie, and she had scarcely been beyond their little clearing. But the nearest
neighbor ,was nearly; a distant as the village, and to be reached only by a nar-
row path through a dense forest; so the safer and more expeditious plan
sIeemed,to -be to take thnewly-cut" wagon road to town. Jennie was very
timid about the journey, and begged very harry, that her little sister might b"






















































































JENNIES CROSSING.


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-t allowed to go with her for company, and Helen, childlike, was even more eager;
so alter many injunctions as to directions and carefulness, and being bid co
walk as fast as they could, the children set out. Collie, their pet shepherd dog,
-went with them, and Jennie carried a well-filled lunch' basket on her arm, which
-her mother had given her, telling them that, after sending the doctor on, they
:lght take their time coming home. In those days doctors rode on horseback
instead of in gigs, and the children would have to return as they went.
The distance to the village was about three miles. Between them, about
a mile from town, flowed a creek, which higher up stream, touched the opposite
.side of the town. At this point was a bridge, but to reach it the Solis's would
3lave to go two miles out of their way. Their usual crossing place was at a
shallow ford, where stepping-stones had been laid from either bank. This was
,, n,-rly a safe means of crossing, for a dam above the town confined the sur-
t-i.' water, and the creek was never very deep.
Jennie and Heien, with Collie leading the way-he had been over the road
~many times-reached the creek without stopping to rest. Carefully pick-
ing their way over the white stepping-stones, they seated themselves on the
,opposite bank, laughing to see Collie slip off one of the large stones as he tried
to get a drink without wetting his toes. But Collie looked none the worse for
his wetting, for he soon shook himself dry, and the girls bathed their warm
-fces and tired feet. Then they hurried on.
After reaching town they easily found the doctor by inquiry; but he was
just starting out to answer an urgent call at some distance, and said he could
n~ot be back again before night. He read Mrs. Solis's note, however, which
Jennie produced from her basket, and said he would put up some medicine
which he thought, if the directions were carried out, would be all that was
-ieeded, and he would call at night on his way back.
There was no help for it, so Jennie turned slowly away; and now they
-m st walk back with the precious medicine even faster than they came. Try-
.-i her best to encourage little Helen, who was almost in tears, and whose
-weary feet lagged sadly, she hurried on her way. A nameless dread had also
seized her. As she had passed through the door of the doctor's office, she had
heard a man remark to him when he spoke of returning that night, "You'd
better not try that till morning, Doctor. This last heavy rain has broken out
that weak spot in the dam, and if the water keeps tumbling down the moun-
tain as it has been doing, there's no telling where the bridge will be by night,"
Poor Jennie! "If the dam is gone, how will we get across the creek," she
thought, "and what will mother think, and then perhaps Willie will die if I
don't get the medicine there before the doctor comes." Faint with fear she sat


-











ot a log by the roadside, as much t- steady her trembling knees as to rest
Helen. Taking the lunch from tne basket, she divided it between Helen and
Collie, bidding the former eat her share as quickly as possible.; The latter,
needed no such bidding, and soon they were again on their way.
Taking Helen by the hand, she hurried her at the top of her speed, ansger-
ing her wondering look with a gentle reminder that they must- get the medicine
to brother Willie as quickly as they could, that he might get well. It would do
her no good to tell her of the rising water, Jennie wisely thought, she would not
understand, would only be frightened, and might hinder getting her across.
With pale cheeks and trembling steps, she hurried forward, and at last
came in sight of the creek. Her worst fears were realized; the stepping-stones,
were completely submerged by dark, troubled waters, on" whose surface floated
here and there bits of broken timber, telling too well the work of destruction
above. But now that she at last stood in the presence of the dreaded danger
Jennie instantly grew brave. "Helen," said she, quite calmly, "see how the rain
has filled the creek. I don't believe you can find the stones, but we'll play
'horse,' and sister will carry you over on her back. It will be lots of fun. Get
on this stone, and put your arms as tight as you can around my neck."
Helen, who had been gazing rather doubtfully at the water, seeing Jennie
made but play of the matter, was immediately re-assured, and instantly com-
plied with the conditions for a little "fun." Jennie's new-found courage never
failed her. Slipping the basket over her arm, she, clasped her hands* tightly
behind her, over Helen's chubby bare legs; but how could she find the stepping-
stones? Here Collie came to her aid. With an instinct almost human, he
seemed to take in the situation at a glance. Wagging his tail, he stepped out
on the first stone, and looked knowingly back as if to say, "It's all right. Come
on."
From stone to stone he guided her, never attempting to swim his way
along; and the emergency made Jennie sure-footed, while Helen was quite
boisterous in her glee. In safety they reached the opposite bank, and scarcely
had they done so, when a dull report was heard far up stream; the whole dam
had given away, and soon the pent-up waters would engulf the low banks of the
creek.
Jennie recognized the sound and understood its meaning, and nothing
but the thoughts of her sick brother, and the needed medicine, supported her
the remainder of the distance. When at last they reached the open caMin
Sdooi, she fell fainting on the floor, and only Helen'was left to tell the story of
how "me and Jennie played horse."
When the doctor reached there, late in the night, he found two patients










inrstad of one, But left both at daybreak doing well. Before the next night
Jennie was quite a little heroine in the village, as the story of her bravery be-
came noised around through the kind-hearted doctor, and the village paper
stated.that "Mistress Jennie Solis was the bravest little- maid in the sixteen
states."
It was not long ere a bridge spanned the stream over the stepping-stones
and now an iron structure does duty at the identical point; but from that day
to this the place has been known as "Jennie's Crossing."


t








Little 6olen Read.


AY LITTLE GOLDEN HEAD
lived within a town
Full of busy bobolinks flitting up
and down;
Pretty neighbor buttercups, cosy auntie
Clovers,
And shy groups of daisies all whispering like
lovers.

A town that was builded on the border of a
stream
By the loving hands of Nature when she
woke from winter's dream;
Suntumn for the workingmen, taking turn
with shower,
Rearing fairy houses of nodding grass and
flower.

;rowds of noisy bumble-bees rushing up and
down,
'Wily little brokers of that busy little town,
Bearing bags of gold dust, always in a hurry,
ussa, bits -of gentlemen, fu'" of fret and
Aurry.


Gay little Golden Head fair and fairer grew,
Fed on flecks of sunshine and sips of balmy
dew,
Swinging on her slender foot all the happy
day,
Chattering with bobolinks, gossips of the
May,

Underneath her lattice on starry summer
eves
By aad by a lover came, with his harp of
leaves;
Wboed and won the maiden, tender, sweet
and shy,
For a little cloud home he was building in
the sky.

And one busy morning on his steed of might
He bore his little Golden Head out of mortal
sight,
But still her gentle spirit, a puff of airy
down,
Wandered through the mazes of that b.igv
little town.


I,










On the Way to Market.


cELL, this is a good
Sidea-a farmer lead-
ing his horse and driv-
ing his sheep to mar-
ket! Do not tell me
That this is an Ameri-
can scene An American wagon would
have four wheels, and the farmer would
be in it holding the reins, and there
would probably be two horses, trotting
at a good pace. Evidently the sketch
was taken in Europe, but it is a very
pretty one. The man at the horse's
head is very proud to take his wife and
little boy along with him to the market,
and after they have sold their vegetables
and sheep they will have lots of things to
buy and take home with them. What a
good thing it is that there are markets
in the great towns where people can
buy from ahd sell to one another!

"Good-morrting."-A visit to
the farm is always a pleasure, espe-
cially to the little folks. Our little
girl in the engraving is paying a visit
to the stable, and is met at the door
by the calf, who seems to discover in
her a companion for a good romp.
But Annie is rather timid about the
advances of the calf, and thinks, per-
haps, if it comes too near, she might
be knocked down. But the calf will
lick her hand if she pats it, and they
soon will be the best of friends.

WITHOUT earnestness no man is
ever great or does really great things.
He may be the cleverest of men; he
may be brilliant, entertaining, popu-
lar; 'but, if he has not earnestness, he
will want weight. No soul-moving
picture was ever painted that had not
in it depth of shadow.


A Cluster of Nevers.
NEVER utter a word of slang,
Never shut the door with a bang.
Never say once that you "don't care,"
Never exaggerate, never swear.
Never lose your temper, much;
Never a glass of liquor touch.
Never wickedly play the spy;
Never, Oh never, tell a lie !
Never your parents disobey,
Never neglect at night to pray.
Remember these maxims
Through all the day,
And you will be happy,
At work or play.




:9


The Waifs of the Street.


The Waifs of the Streets.


OST'of our young
readers will be sur-
prised and no doubt
grieved to learn
that there are in our
o h large cities, hun -
dreds of children who have no par-
ents and no homes. Many of them
sleep in sheltered corners out-of-
doors, and they frequently suffer
from hunger and cold. Sometimes
they can find old shoes and clothes
to put on, and sometimes they wash
themselves in the river or at the pub-
lic fountains, but generally they are
both ragged and dirty. How dread-
ful it must be, to have no home to go
to; to be hungry and not know how
to get a bit of bread; to be ragged
and not know where to get clothes.
In some of our cities there are now
places provided where homeless chil-
dren can go and get simple food.
Such a place is shown in our picture.
How grateful the little fellows are for
such kindness. The ladies who pass
them their mugs of milk and the big
slices of bread must seem to them like
angels.

FIDELITY.-A few'weeks ago, a party
of immigrants left a dog and a basket
at a depot in Louisville, Ky. The dog
probably knew that the people to whom
he belonged valued the contents of the
basket, for he refused to leave it; nor
would he allow any one to touch the
basket, growling at every person who
showed a disposition to do so. Finally,
\ the depot officers slipped a string around
ithe basket and dragged it away, the dog
Following as far as he could. A gentle-
man who witnessed the animal's act of
fidelity gladly gave him a homni
,' '* *


A Neglected Artist.
THE master oft says I'm a dunce;
But just see what I'm able to do!
This picture-I drew it at once;
If you please, I'll take your likeness,
too.
His legs are so slender and long;
His arms are as neat as can be;
I'm sure that the master is wrong!
I'm a genius, as well you may seet
But country-folk always are slow;
They can't understand gifts like
mine,
I believe, if to London I go,
That there, as an artist, 1'll shine

WITHOUT a firm faith no man can
perform a valuable achievement. Doubt
and deed are deadly enemies to each
Other.




Ir -~ -~lgr-=- .---li c~--=L;--~~i.~~I(-i;~~~;i ~ ; L1l


The Natural Bridge, Virginia.


E'O P L E will journey
a long way to see the
bridge represented in
this picture. It is not
a man-made bridge,
but was formed by the
operations of Nature herself, though
exactly how'it was done it is not easy
to say.
You only see part of the bridge here.
The total height of the arch is about
two hundred feet, and the thickness of
the arch is about forty feet. There is
not much earth deposited at the base,
so that if the arch was scooped out by
water, the material has been carried
completely away. The rock is what is
called limestone. A little brook called
'Cedar Creek runs lazily under the arch,
but there are no traces of the gradual
wearing of the sides of the arch by
water, even if the brook has had a pow-
*erful current in times past. A person,
many years ago, tried to climb to the
top of the bridge from the bottom,
butfell when within fifteen feet of the
summit, and was killed.


Sirtgular Plurals.
REMEMBER, though box'in the plural
makes boxes,
The plural of ex should be oxen, not
oxes;
And remember, though fleece in the
plural is fleeces,
That the plural of goose is not gooses
nor geeses;
And remember, though house in the
plural is houses,
The plural of mouse should be mice
and not mouses.
Mouse; it is true, in the plural is mice,
But the plural of house should be
houses, not hice;
And foot, it is true, in the plural is feet;
But the plural of root should be roots,
Sand not reet.

IN proportion as men are real coin,
and not counterfeit, they scorn to en-
joy credit for, what they have not.
" Paint me," said Cromwell, "wrinkles
and all." Even on canvas, the great
hero despised falsehood.

Irt the Woods.-How refresh-
ing it is on a hot August day to take
a tramp through the woods!
The boys of Maine often make
long journeys, camping out at
night, and enjoying themselves
in various ways during the day.
They -sometimes take a, tent
and food and guns and fishing-
tackle, and when they find a
plea :anlt: spot, they pitch their
tent and. stay through their va-
cation. If they know how to
take care of themselves, they
can get both health and pleasure
S.plendir, -their holidays in the
woods.















A BOY's LIFE SAVED BY HIS FAITHFUL DOG.

ICOLAS MULLER was a German peasant boy, andl he lived
alone with his grandmother in the village of Konigstein. She
was very old and very deaf, and could earn no money her-
self, and all they had to live on was earned by Nicolas, who went to
Homburg three times a, week to sell the vegetables which grew in
their garden.
It was ten miles from Konigstein to Homburg, and that was a
long walk for Nicolas, and for his faithful friend, Fritz, who always
accompanied him. Fritz was a large yellow-coated dog, with a dark
face and soft, sad, brown eyes. Nicolas would harness him up to
his cart of vegetables, and together they would make their trips to
Homburg. First, they went through the dark forest, with its rows
of straight pine-trees standing as regularly as soldiers on a parade;
and when the trees were left behind they had to traverse some three
miles of a white, dusty road, with hedgeless fields on each side. The
red roofs of Homburg and the Castle, rising high above them, were a
welcome sight to the tired travelers.
One afternoon in July, when the sun wa; still high and the weather
was very hot, he had sold all his goods earlier than usual, and by four
o'clock he was on his way back to Kitnigstein.
After they had left the white, dusty road, and were in the shade
of the trees, Nicolas told Fritz that he might rest a little ; and the dog
lay down and forgot even to snap at the flies, he was so hot and tired.
The boy had chosen a lovely place for the halt, and the breeze
soon blew away his tired feelings, and he skipped and romped about,
quite forgetting that he had a seven miles' walk before him. There














































































A BOY'S LIFE SAVED BY HIS FAITHFUL DOG.













was a little ditch not more than a yard wide, and he amused himself
jumping backwards and forwards over this. But he did this once too
often, for hardly had he cleared it the third time than he caught his
foot in a bilberry bush, and fell into the stony ditch. He tried to get
up, but when he moved the pain was so great that (brave little man
though he was) he could not help crying out. No one heard him
but Fritz, and he ran.up, dragging the lumbering cart after him. He
saw something was amiss but he did not know what to do, so he
licked his master's hand with his rough tongue, and looked the sorrow
which he could not speak.
"This is unlucky," said little Nicolas, "and so far from home, too,
and such a lonely place, no one will pass by for hours, if then. But
you will stay with me, Fritz: we have often been hungry before."
Fritz sat down by Nicolas, evidently expecting the boy to get up;
and when he made no movement Fritz patted him gravely with his
paw, as if to warn him that it was getting late. "I can't get up,
Fritz, I have hurt my foot: I cannot stand."
Again the gentle paw was raised, and the dog rubbed his head
against Nicolas' hand.
"I don't know what. you want, Fritz; we shall have to stop here all
night."
But Fritz did not seem inclined to stop there all night. He gave
Nicolas a farewell paw and set off at a trot in the direction of Konig-
stein. In vain Nicolas called; Fritz did turn his head, but he did rnot
go back; rather he quickened his speed, and was soon out of sight.
If Nicolas shed some tears when the dog was gone, it was not
only from the pain in his foot.
Fritz had a great business to perform, and he was quite too lull of
it to heed his master's voice. The cart was heavy, and the poor
fellow was tired, and hungry, and thirsty; but he got over the seven.
long miles as quickly as his tired feet would carry him.












By six o'clock the little cart was rattling along the quiet street of
Kinigstein.
Fritz went straight to his own door and scratched loudly with his
paws, but could not make himself heard by Frau Muller.
Fritz at last grew tired of watching the handle of the door with
his wistful eyes, and seeing a villager pass he went to him and stood
before him wagging his tail.
Get out, you brute!" said the man, angrily; and Fritz slunk back
with a sad heart.
After a time Johann Humbert came up the street whistling, and
saw poor Fritz standing dejectedly at the door.
What is Nicolas thinking of," he said, to leave the dog in the
cart so long T"
And then he came up and patted Fritz, who looked delighted and
licked his hands. Johann lifted the handle of the door and went in.
"Here is Fritz, Mother Muller, waiting for his supper. Where is
Nicolas all this time?"
But the old woman could not catch what he said, so he shouted in
her ear, Where is Nicolas?"
His words startled her, and she cried, Fritz come home without
little Nicolas ? The boy is hurt somewhere in the forest If I were
ten years younger I would run myself, Johann, but I'm old and can't
stir. Surely the dog will guide you to where my boy is. He is as
sensible as many a man."
Don't be unhappy; I will go and look for him, whether the dog
comes or no; but first I will unharness the poor fellow."
Fritz jumped about quite gaily when he was released from the
harness, and took hold of Johann's coat and tried gently to drag him
out of the house.
I will follow you, my boy, never fear," said Johann, "if only you
will take me straight."













Fritz looked up in Johann's eyes, and then set off at a sober pace
on the return journey, occasionally looking back at Johann, who
Same striding after him.
Fritz led Johann by a very direct path, but before they reached
the place where he left Nicolas it was getting dark among the pines,
and the wind was making mournful music high up in the branches.
At last Fritz bounded forward with a bark of delight, and Johann
saw what seemed to him to be a bundle of rags lying in the path.
He soon found that it was Nicolas, but the poor boy was insensible
from pain and hunger. Johann got some water from the brook and
dashed it over him, while faithful Fritz never moved from his mas-
ter's side.
Nicolas opened his eyes after a while and sat up, and seeing Fritz
le remembered what had happened, and said:
Fritz, old boy, you won't leave me ?"
That he won't," said Johann's cheerful voice; "and no more
will I until I have you safe at home. What has happened to you ?"
"It's my leg," said Nicolas, sitting up and looking about him. I
can't stand on it, but I don't know what is the matter with it."
Johann soon found out that it was broken. "I shall have to carry
you home. It's lucky you are not much of a weight."
He lifted Nicolas up very carefully, and carried him all the way
home, although he sometimes found him a heavy load up the hills.
It was a long time before Nicolas could go to Homburg again;
and though many years have passed away since the incident happened,
he has never ceased to gratefully remember the faithful dog that
saved his life.


HE who receives a good turn should never forget it: he who does'
. one should never remember it. CHARRON.















A BOY's BATTLE WITH AN EAGLE.


(fJHE white-headed eagle, commonly known as the American eagle,
is found in nearly all parts of temperate North America, from
whence it seldom wanders. It is a very powerful bird, and has been
known to attack and carry off young lambs, pigs and even small
children.
A few years ago a desperate fight occurred between an eagle and
a boy in one of the pasture fields of the Soldiers' Orphans' Home, in
Green county, Ohio.
A boy whose name was Wallace Mead, and who was only fifteen
years of age, went out to look for some cattle, when he saw a large
eagle perched on a bough of a tree. He immediately turned and
began to run towards the Home; but the bird, giving chase, overtook
him and buried its talons in his leg. He managed to shake it off, but,
jumping on him, it bit him severely on the arm. The boy then faced
the fierce creature and boldly fought it with his fists. After a
struggle he managed to grasp it by the neck, and choked it to death.
The brave boy received many scratches and bites during his battle
with the eagle, and was so exhausted after his victory that he had to
be taken to a hospital.
----~---

THE NEGRO AND THE EARTHQUAKE.

AT r'ort Augusta, in Jamaica, is shown the tomb of a negro who
in a great earthquake was swallowed up, and, apparently, buried alive
in a chasm which was opened under his feet. A moment later
another convulsion threw him out on the surface again, undamaged
but for a few bruises, scratches and scare, and he lived for many years ;-
afterward.


L ~cC----C-.






















































































A BOY'S BATTLE WITH AN EAGLE.
















A DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH INDIANS.

W BOUT the middle of July, 1782, seven Wyandott Indians crossed
the Ohio river a few miles above Wheeling, and committed
great depredations upon the southern shore, killing an old
man whom they found alone in his cabin, and spreading terror through-
out the neighborhood. Within a few hours after their retreat, eight
men assembled from different parts of the small settlement, and pur-
sued the enemy with great expedition. Among the most active and
efficient of the party, were two brothers, Adam and Andrew Poe.
They had. not followed the trail far, before they became satisfied that
the depredators were led by Big Foot, a renowned chief of the
Wyandott tribe, who derived his name from the immense size of his
feet.
Adam Poe was overjoyed at the idea of measuring his strength
with that of so celebrated a chief, and urged the pursuit with a keen-
ness that soon, brought him in the vicinity of the enemy. For the
last few miles, the trail had led them up the southern bank of the
Ohio, where the footprints in the sand were deep and obvious, but
when within a few hundred yards of the point at which the whites as
well as the Indians were in the habit of grossing, it suddenly diverged
from the stream, and stretched along a rocky ridge. Here Adam
halted, for a moment, and directed his brother and the other young
men to follow the trail with proper caution, while he himself still
adhered to the river path, which lay through a cluster of willows
directly to the point where he supposed the enemy to lie. Having
examined the priming of his gun, he crept cautiously through the
bushes until he had a view of the point of embarkation. Here lay

























































































THIMANS IN THEIR WAR-PAINr "fNW OM BATTLE---'


; 'f











cwo canoes, showing that the Indians were close at hand; he relaxed
nothing of his vigilance, and gaining a jutting cliff, which hung
immediately over the canoes, he peered cautiously over, and beheld
the object of his search. The gigantic Big Foot lay below him in
the shade of a willow, and was talking in a low, deep tone to another
warrior, who seemed a mere pigmy by his side. Adam cautiously
drew back and cocked his gun. The mark was fair- the distance
did not exceed twenty feet, and his aim was unerring. Raising his
rifle slowly and cautiously, he took a steady aim at Big Foot's breast,
and drew the trigger. His gun flashed. Both Indians sprang to
their feet with a deep interjection of surprise. Adam was too much
hampered by the bushes to retreat, and, setting his life upon a cast
of the die, he sprang over the bush which had sheltered him, and,
summoning all his powers, leaped boldly down the precipice upon the
breast of Big Foot with a shock that bore him to the earth.
At the moment of contact, Adam had thrown his right arm around
the neck of the smaller Indian, so that all three came to the earth at
once. At that moment a sharp firing was heard among the bushes
above, announcing that the other parties were engaged, but the trio
below were too busy to attend to anything but themselves. Big Foot
was for an instant stunned by the violence of the shock, and. Adam
was enabled to keep them both down. But the exertion necessary
for that purpose was sogreat-that he had no chance to use his knife.
Big Foot quickly recovered, and, without attempting to rise, wrapped
his long arms around Adam's body and pressed him to his breast
with the crushing force of a boa-constrictor.
Adam instantly relaxed his hold of the smaller Indian, who sprang
to his feet. Big Foot then ordered him to- run for his tomahawk,
which lay within ten steps, and kill the white man while he held him
in his arms. Adam, seeing his danger, struggled manfully to extri-
cate himself from the folds of the giant, but in vain, The smaller


-


~'~~r~"I-;~-7'~'-'--:---~"'"~N~"":""~ T-T:IP*";;~;~`~F~




P- .- -- I


Indian approached with his uplifted tomahawk, but Adam watched
himclosely, and as he was about to strike, gave him a kick so sudden
and violent, as to knock the tomahawk out of his hand and send him
staggering back into the water. But the smaller Indian again
approached, carefully avoiding Adam's heels, and making many
motions with his tomahawk, in order to deceive him as to the point
where the blow would fall.
Such was Adam's dexterity and vigilance, however, that he
managed to receive the tomahawk in a glancing direction uponi the
left wrist, wounding him deeply but not disabling him. He now made
a sudden and desperate effort to free himself from the arms of the
giant, and succeeded. Instantly snatching up a rifle, for the Indian
could not venture to shoot for fear of hurting his companion, he shot
the smaller Indian through the body. But scarcely had he done so
when Big Foot arose, and, placing one hand upon his collar and the
other upon his hip, pitched him into the air, as he himself might have
pitched a child.
Adam fell upon his back at the edge of the water, but before his
antagonist could spring upon him he was again upon his feet, and,
stung with rage at the idea of being handled so easily, he attacked
his gigantic antagonist with a fury which for a time compensated for
inferiority of strength. It was now a fair fist fight between them,
for in the hurry of the struggle neither had an opportunity to draw
his knife. Adam's superior activity and experience as-a pugilist gave
him great advantage. The Indian struck awkwardly, and finding
himself rapidly dropping to leeward he closed with his antagonist
and again hurled him to the ground. They quickly rolled into the
river, and the struggle continued with unabated fury, each attempting
to drown the other. The Indian being-unused to such violent exer-
tion, and having been much injured by the first shocki in his stomach,
waF unable to exert the same 'powers which had given him such a












superiority at first; and Adam, seizing him by the scalp-lock, put his
head under water and held it there until the faint struggles of the
Indian induced him to believe that he was drowned, when he relaxed ,
his hold and attempted to draw his knife. The Indian, however,
instantly regained his feet, and in his turn put his adversary under.
In the struggle, both were carried out in the current beyond
their depth, and each was compelled to let go his hold and swim for
his life. There was still one loaded rifle upon the shore, and each
swam hard in order to reach it, but the Indian proved the more expert
swimmer, and Adam seeing that he should be too late turned and
swam out into the stream, intending to dive, and thus frustrate his
enemy's intention.
At this instant, Andrew, having learned that his brother was alone
s a struggle with two Indians, and in great danger, ran up hastily to
the bank above, in order to assist him. Another white man followed
him closely, and seeing Adam in the river covered with blood, and
swimming rapidly from shore, mistook him for an Indian and fired
upon him, wounding him dangerously in the shoulder.
Adam turned, and, seeing his brother, called loudly upon him to
"shoot the big Indian on shore." Andrew's gun, however, was
empty, having just been discharged. Fortunately, Big Foot had also
an empty gun, having seized the one with which Adam had shot the
Indian. The contest was now who should load first. Big Foot
poured in his powder first, and drawing his ramrod out of its sheath
in too great a hurry, threw it into the river, and while he ran to
recover it, Andrew gained an advantage. Still the Indian was but a
second too late, for his gun was at his shoulder, when Andrew's ball
entered his breast. The gun dropped from his hands and he fell for-
ward upon his face upon the very margin of the river. Andrew, now
alarmed for his brother, who was scarcely able to swim, threw down
his gun and rushed into the river and brought him ashore. Adam













Poe recovered of his wounds, and lived many years after his conflict;
but never forgot the tremendous hug which he sustained in the arms
of Big Foot.

AN ELEPHANT'S SAGACITY.
IN 1853 a regiment was marching from,Peshawur to Kopulvie, and
was accompanied by a train of elephants. It was the duty of the
mahout in charge of each elephant to prepare twenty chupatties, or
flat cakes made of coarse flour, for his charge. When the twenty
chupatties were ready, they were placed before the elephant, who,
during the process of counting, never attempted to touch one of them
until the full number was completed. On one occasion one of the
elephants had seized the opportunity of his mahout's attention being
distracted for a moment to steal and swallow one of the chupatties.
When the mahout, having finished the preparation, began to count
them out, he, of course, discovered the theft, and presented his charge
with nineteen in place of the usual number.
The elephant instantly appreciated the fact of there being one less
than he had a right, to expect, and refused to touch them, expressing
his indignation by loud trumpetings. This brought the conductor of
the elephant line on the scene. Having heard the explanation of the
mahout, the conductor decided that the mahoutwas in fault for not
keeping a better lookout, and ordered him to provide the twentieth
cake at his own cost. When this was prepared and added to the pile,
the elephant at once accepted and ate them.
It is incredible that an elephant, sagacious as he is, should be able
to count up to twenty. At the same time it is difficult to find any
other explanation, except one which would imply the possession of a
still higher degree of intelligence, namely, the consciousness of his
own delinquency, and an expectation (justified by the result) of what
would follow when he called the conductor's attention by trumpeting.
















A DOG'S DEVOTION TO HIS DEAD MASTER.

N the virtues of fidelity and constancy the dog furnishes the
highest models for our admiration and gratitude. Numberless
are the instances where these faithful animals have been found,
even on fields of battle, lying by and guarding the bodies of their
dead masters. An incident is related where a dog's devotion to its
dead master resulted in the detection and punishment of his mur-
derers. When Pyrrhus, the king of Epeirus, was in Italy, whither
he had gone in the year 280 B. C. to assist the Tarentines in their
war against the Romans, he observed lying by the wayside the dead
body of a slave over which a dog was keeping guard. On being told
that the animal had been there for three days without food or water,
he ordered the body to be buried and the dog brought to him.
Having received some information that induced him to suspect that
some of his soldiers had murdered the slave, the king ordered that
all of his soldiers should be marched, in single file, before him, while
he kept the dog by his side to -observe them as they passed along.
The dog lay quietly by the king's side for a while, when suddenly, he
started up and attacked some of the soldiers with great fury. This
induced the king to believe that they were guilty of murdering the
dog's master, and he caused them to be arrested and charged with the
crime. Though there was but little other evidence than the actions
of the dog to convict them of the murder, the soldiers accused made
a full confession and were punished for their crime. Another instance
where a faithful dog caused the arrest and conviction of its master's
murderers occurred in Paris, in 1764. A farmer, who had been to
receive a sum of money, was waylaid, robbed, and murdered by I
























































































A DOG'S DEVOTION TO HIS DEAD MASTER.












two villains. The farmer's'dog returned with all speed to the house
of the person who had paid the money, and expressed such amazing
anxiety that he would follow him, pulling him several times by the
sleeve and skirt of the coat, that at length the gentleman yielded to
his importunity. The dog led him to the field, a little from the road-
side, where the body lay. From thence the gentleman went to a
public house, in order to alarm the country. The moment he entered
(as the two villains were there drinking), the dog seized the murderer
by the throat, and the other made his escape. This man lay in prison
three months, during which time they visited him once a week with
the dog; and though they made him change his clothes with other
prisoners, and always stand in the midst of a crowd, yet did the
animal always find him out and fly at him.
On the day of trial, when the prisoner was at the bar, the dog
was let loose in the court-house, and, in the midst of some hundreds,
he found him out, though dressed entirely in new clothes, and would
have torn him to pieces had he been allowed; in consequence of which
the man was condemned, and at the place of execution he confessed
the crime.


AN INTELLIGENT DOG.

THE keeper of the Bear Island light is the owner of an intelligent
dog. When a steamer passes the light it whistles its salute, and in
response the light-keeper rings his bell, or rather did ring before the
dog took the job out of his hands. Seeing that the passing of a boat
and the ringing of the bell were two things that went together, the
dog took it into his own hands-or mouth-to ring the bell, and
when a boat comes along, without waiting for her whistle, he seizes
the bell rope with his teeth and rings a vigorous salute.


S-,i'. *- ;- T'




-*- -.'-- "


T- 0. V






OU needn't laugh at me just because I -am yeii,, and covered
With tiny cracks and don't happen to be dressed like your other
S. dolls. I-know I look funny and old-fashioned to you, but really
my heart is as young as ever it was.
And when your grandmama was a little girl this way of wear-
. ing the hair was very fashionable, and it was considered quite
vulgar to wear heels on one's shoes, and so mine were made as
you see, and were thought very genteel, indeed.
I was so happy yesterday, for Miss Martha said that we were to have com-
pany, and she took me out of my box, where I had been laid away for so long
that it is a treat. to get out of my paper wrappings.
Her "grand-niece," she said. So you are her grand-niece! Well! you favor
your grandmama, child. You are very like what she was at your age: the
same yellow.hair and laughing mouth, only your eyes are not so blue nor your
skin so fair as hers vwas. Or am I forgetting? Was it her sister Betsy who
was light? Yes, it was Betsy; I remember now, your grandmama was quite dark.
How one does forget in seventy years!
I am a little stiff, you notice, but it's no wonder, for it is fully twenty years
since I was last out of my box; then, too, we were taught in my time to stand
or sit very straight and stiff, and habits grow very strong upoh one,' you know.
How well I remember the last time Miss Martha had me out. Twenty
years ago-that was long before you were born, my dear. They gave me to your
Aunt Lucy to play with, I recollect. I don't like to speak ill of your kinfolk,
child, but really your Aunt Lucy was a very rude girl. She laughed at my
oddly-dressed hair and made fun of my flat feet, and made the most odious
comparisons between me and an ill-bred china doll that she carried.; and she
%tuck pins into me to such an extent that I assure you I had a pain in my in-
side for-hours.
She is a woman now and I understand that she is very well mannered and
gentle, but somehow it always gives me a turn even to think of her.
And your Uncle Rob, your great-uncle I mean, he used to tease mre too.
He once tied me to the cat's back and I was terribly frightened. To this day .1
am afraid of cats and china dogs.
I know it sounds silly, but I cannot oveiccme my fear of china dogs. Now
V Vyur grandmama had one, a brown and white one, that used to sit upon the
parlor mantel, and he looked very o-nrtle indeed, when, really, he was a most




..






ferociouss beast. I had it from a friend of mine who heard him growl savagp'v
at the cat worked upon your grandmama's sampler. My friend fainted wilk
fright and remained unconscious for fully forty minutes, until she was aroused
by the striking of your great-grandfather's clock and the whirring of the wheels
as the heavy weights ran down.
But I was telling you how your great-uncle, Rob, tied me to the cat's back.
I was wearing a pink muslin frock and a buff pelisse and a tippet that your
grandmama had just finished. I always tried to keep my clothes neat and tidy
and so I was lying quite still upon the shelf, that my new finery should not be-
come mussed.
Rob espied me and he called the cat. I can hear his voice now as he called,
"Puss, nice pussy, come here, puss." Strange how one can recall a voice after
seventy years! Puss came, suspecting no mischief, and in a twinkling Rob had
tied me to her back with a stout piece of pack-thread, and she was tearing
across the yard at such a mad pace that I was breathless with fear.
I think that Rob was frightened when he saw this, for he had meant no harm,
but only to have a bit of sport. Away we flew into the barn and up on the hay-
mow, when the string broke and I felt myself slipping down-down toward the
horses' manger. My love, I cannot tell you my sensations as I felt the hot
breath of the great monsters, but they only pushed me to one side, where Rob
soon found me.
He carried me back and laid me on my shelf, but my tippet was lost and my
pelisse torn and ruined; and there was a large ugly crack across my neck; lift
up my gold beads, dear, and you can see it now.
Rob bought these beads as a peace-offering, and your grandmama tiec
them on with her own hands. I have never had them off since then. Be careful,
Aear, the silk thread may have become tender with age and it might break easily,
and I should not like anything to happen to them.
It may sound sentimental, but I should like always to keep them on ac-
count of Rob. Poor lad! it must be fifty odd years since he was drowned.
I can't tell you the story, child, for whenever I think of him such a lump
,:omes in my throat that it opens the old crack, and I cannot speak at all.
Well! well how I have run on, and really my throat begins to ache, and you
must notice that my voice is growing husky. I dare say it's because I can't help
thinking of your great-uncle, dear, but I think I must stop talking now.
Lay me down carefully, child, for I am not so young as I once was, and I
feel quite fatigued. There! that will do nicely. How gentle you are, my dear,
quite lik' what yiur grandmama was seventy years ago.













(he stolen &eavee.


HO stole my beautiful leaves?"
Whispered the old Oak-tree;
"West-wind, South-wind, look
K for the thieves!
Find them, and bring them to me."
"Not I," said North-wind; "oh, no,
I would not treat an old friend so;
I found them lying upon the ground,
Brown and dead, and I carried them round
To bring them to life
In the autumn sun,
But I did not steal
A single one."
"Not I," said North-wind; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old tree so."

"Who stole my beautiful leaves?"
Said the weeping Willow tree;
"West-wind, South-wind, look for the thieves!
Find them, and bring them to me,"
"Not I," said the Frost; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old friend so;
I covered them over with crystals white,
And talked with them in the cold moonlight,
Till I felt the breath
Of the morning sun,
But I did not take
A single one."
"Not I," said the Frost; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old tree so."

"Who stole my beautiful leaves?"
Said the shivering Maple-tree;
"West-wind, South-wind, look for the thieves!
Find them, and bring them to me."
"Not I," said the Sun; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old friend so;
I painted your leaves all scarlet and green,
'With rows of crimson and gold between,


And I saw them fade
Ere my work was done,
But I did not take
A single one."
"Not I," said the Sun; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old tree so."

"Who stole my beautiful leaves ?"
Echoed the Poplar-tree;
"West-wind, South-wind, look for the
thieves!
Find them, and bring them to me."
"Not I," said the Rain; "oh! no,
IYwould not treat an old friend so;
I mixed the shades of green and of gold
Fwr the Sun to use, and I always told
The little rain-drops
Which way to run,
But I did not take
A single one."
"Not I," said the Rain; "oh! no,
I would not treat an old tree so."


'"O Maple, Willow, and Oak,
No one stole your beautiful leaves;"
West-wind, South-wind, pitying said;
"North-wind, Frost, Sun, are not thieves
They are dead, the Snow-flakes say;
I tell the tale another way:
Waiting in silence under the snow,
Are the souls of the leaves that shall upward
grow
In the resurrection
Of the spring;
When violets bloom
And robins sing,
And new life your heart receives,
To your arms will spring the beautiful leavesPf







-- -- 2 -7 ""'~


@John Founds' 5ehool.

OHN POUNDS was born at Portsmouth in the year 1766, and
as he grew up his parents, who were in humble circumstances,
apprenticed him to a shipwright. Whilst working in the dock-
yard he met -with an accident; one of his thighs was broken, he
was rendered a cripple for life and had to seek another means
of subsistence. He took to mending shoes, and lived in a
weather-boarded house in St. Mary's street in his native town ..
Being of a gentle and humane disposition, he was fond of animals, and
kept a number of tame birds in his stall, and his good nature moved him to
take charge of a child belonging to his brother, who had a numerous family.
This poor child was a cripple, his feet overlapping each other, but the ingenious
cobbler contrived an apparatus of old shoes and straps, by means of which the
boy's feet were kept in their right position and he was soon cured. The kind-
hearted John next taught him to read, and, thinking that his little nephew would
Earn better with companions, he asked a neighbor to send him his children to
be taught. Others followed, and soon the wooden booth, which was eighteen
feet long by six in width, was crowded to overflowing. His teaching was all
Gratuitous, and he delighted in reclaiming and teaching "the little blackguards,"
,as heralded them. He sought out the ragged urchins on the quays of the town,
-and bribed them with a roasted apple to come to his school.
'He managed to procure some fragments of old school-books, and from
these and some old hand-bills he taught the children to read, whilst with slate
and pencil they learned writing and arithmetic. His method of instruction was
by means of questions. Seated with his lapstone on his knee in the midst of
his mob of little pupils, he would go on with his work, whilst asking them the
names of different objects and then making them spell them. With the younger
ones he was very playful. He would touch a little one's ear and say: "What's
this?" And when the child replied: "Ear," he would say: "Spell it." Then,
pinching it gently, he would say: "What do I do?" "Pinch." "Then spell
that," said he. And so on with the hand or foot.
As the children grew older he adopted a stricter discipline with them, but
they all loved him; and many hundreds of persons, filling useful positions in
life, owed all the education they ever received to the poor cobbler, whose sole
reward was the joy he felt in doing good to others, and in the visit, now and
then, of some brave soldier or sailor, grown out of all remembrance, who came
to shake hands with their kind old teacher. Though he was favorably noticed


-~ -...- ,. .-. -










by the local authorities, he never got one penny for his services, and-lived the
,-ost frugal and self-denying life, known chiefly to his poorer neighbors.
On the Ist of January, 1839, when John Pounds was seventy-two years of
age, he and his
nephew determined
to have a grand di.-
I ner in honor of New
Year's Day, and they
bought a mug of
sprats; but before
they were cooked, as
he was looking at a,
picture of his school
which had recently
been done for him,
he suddenly fell
down and expire_
Great was tae
grief and consterna-
tion of the children,
and the younger ones
could hardly be made
to understand that
their kind old friend
was really gone from
them, and many of
them came to the
door next morning
and cried because
~a' they could not be
-admitted; and for
several days the little
ones would come in
S-~groups of two or
three, look about the
deserted room, and,
not finding their
friend, go sorrowfully away.
John Pounds was a true benefactor to his species, though he was only a










poor cobbler, for he was the originator of those ragged schools which have
since done so much to instruct the children of the poorest class and save them
from lives of misery and crime.



4@nlg @ne M-other."
"Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky;
Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds that go singing by;
Hundreds of bees in the sunny weather.
Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the morn;
Hundreds of lambs in the purple clover;
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn;
SBut only one mother the wide world over."

, ND of that mother, Charles Kingsley said: "She had always such
a big 'holiday heart!' Just what that means we may guess.
Good housebuilders and good homekeepers know that holiday
hearts make holiday faces; and to our children are priceless pic-
tures on the home walls.
The sun comes straight in and comes, as Ike Marvel says, "goldenly." It
begins with a cheery breakfast, and is attendant upon every hour of each day.
No everyday guest is more welcome. All the windows of the heart catch the
morning, with its light and air, just as the warm east sunshine should gener-
ously flush the coffee cups. Holiday hearts glorify the little bright faces, fresh
from the night's sleep and the morning bath!
The day begins with sunshine-even when" the rain come down!
Mr. Thackeray liked "Clive Newcome" because he was not such a bril-
liant boy, maybe, but always pleasant.
Pleasantness is so contagious. The good mother had been up all night
with baby, who had the croup; papa wasn't in a saintly mood, Jany looked glum;
and Susie whimpered. Jack came bounding in with "Here's the Morning Post,
papa," in such an excited, cheery way papa had to smile.
'*The top of the morning to ye, polly-wog," he shouted to whimpering
Susie, who laughed; and as Bridget came in with the cakes she "felt quite
lifted with the breeze." The pale mother felt the little brown fingers on her
shoulder with a thrill, as her merry boy passed her chair and took his seat at
the table.
So the sunshine came in with Jack! Enough to cover the whole family

















aqrt Almd and.a&aisi
Ira 5ds 1 all silver bnrib.
iAjaisir? dusky purple.
Ard ar? Almond creamy-Wtibe.
11Iv
idt be'Raisi b bbhe.Almond Said tbhelRisin to theA mor?d
Was once aS full of Wine W e are bot from Souther lands,
As a deWdrop is of sunlight, And we come once more together,
And a loss skir? Was Mire. :-aVin- fallen i English hands"
III V
Said theAlmord to the Raisir,"Dont you think We ouhbt tomarry?
Anrd 1'se a bale to tell T a sure'tWould be as Well,
lv9as born inside a floWer, Thoub you hae lost yourjuices,
iAnd Ilived Within a sJhell Arnd I hae lost Ty s heli"
VI
$aid the Almond to theTE{.Jsn
I"l It, is my dearest wis "
xx X X x x. X
A Th ~ yo -avde/ ayK s/4itdg a' M,


___ __


"- i-: -'v'-- ',,Ta. -' .-











c he r)inaeus (ccona.

HE was a dainty, blue-eyed, golden-haired darling, who had ruled
her kingdom but four short years when the events in our history
occurred. Very short the four years had seemed, for the baby
princess brought into the quiet old house such a wealth of love,
with its golden sunshine, that time had passed rapidly since her
arrival, as time always does when we are happy and contented.
Our little princess did not owe her title to royal birth, but toc
her unquestioned sway over those around her; a rule in which was so happily
blended entreaty and command that her willing subjects were never quite sure:
to which they were yielding. But of one thing they were sure, which was that
the winning grace of the little sovereign equalled their pleasures in obeying her
small commands, and the added fact-a. very important one-that this queen
of hearts never abused her power.
No little brothers nor sisters were numbered among the princess' retainers,
but she had had from her babyhood an inseparable companion and playfellow
in Moses. Now Moses was a big brown dog who, like his namesake of old, had
been rescued from a watery grave, and it chanced that baby-girl and baby-dog.
became inmates of the quiet old house about the same time. But the dogf
grew much faster than the little girl, as dogs are wont to do, and was quite a
responsible person by the time Leona could toddle around. When she was
pld enough to play under the old elm tree Moses assumed the place of
protector of her little highness, and was all the body-guard the princess needed,
for he was wise and unwearied in his endeavors to guard her from all mishaps.
But, although Moses felt the responsibility of his position, he did not consider
it beneath his dignity to amuse his mistress, and so they played together, baby
and dog, shared their lunch together, and frequently took their nap together of
a warm afternoon, the golden curls of the little princess tumbled over Moses'
broad, shaggy shoulder.
One day when Leona was about four years old an event occurred in her
life that seemed for a time to endanger the intimacy between the little girl and
her four-footed friend, and caused Moses considerable anxiety. It was a rainy
morning and she could not play under the trees as usual, so she, took her little
chair and climbed up to the window to see if the trees were lonesome without
her. Something unusual-going on in the house next door attracted her attention
-nd her disappointment was soon forgotten. No one had lived in the house







.7

since the little girl could remember. Now the long closed doors and windows
were thrown wide open, and men were running up and down the steps. She
was puzzled to know what it could all mean, and kept her little face so close to
the window, and was so unmindful of Moses, that he felt quite neglected and
lonely.
The following morning was warm and bright and the little princess and her
attendant were playing under the trees again. Moses was so delighted in hav-
ing won- the sole attention of his little mistress and played so many drolb
pranks that Leona shouted with laughter. In the midst of her merriment
she chanced to look up, and saw through the paling a pair of eyes as bright
as her own, dancing with fun and evidently enjoying Moses' frolic quite as
much as the little girl herself. The bright eyes belonged to a little boy about
Leona's age, whose name was Jamie, and who had moved into the house that
had interested her so much the day before.
Now our little princess in her winning way claimed the allegiance of all
that came within her circle, and so confidently ran over to the fence to make
the acquaintance of her new subject. Jamie was quite'willing to be one of her
servitors, and although they were separated by the 'high palings they visited
through the openings all the morning, and for many mornings after, exchang-
ing dolls, books, balls, and strings, and becoming the best of friends. This
new order of things was not quite satisfactory to Moses, who felt he was no
longer necessary to Leona's happiness. He still kept his place close beside
her, and tried to be as entertaining as possible. But do what he would he
oould not coax her away from her new-found friend, and 'all the merry plays
under the old elm tree seemed to have come to an end, but Leona was not
really ungrateful to her old playfellow. She was deeply interested in her new
companion and for-the time somewhat forgetful of Moses, which is not much
to be wondered at, when we remember what great advantage over Moses Jamie
had in one thing. He could talk with Leona and Moses could not. But
although the dog's faithful heart ached at the neglect of his little mistress,. he
did not desert his place of protector, but watched and guarded the princess
while she and her friend prattled on all the long, bright days, quite unconscious
of his trouble.
One afternoon Leona's happiness reached its highest point. Her mother
had been watching the visiting going on through the fence, and saw Leona's
delight in her new companion, so, unknown to her, she wrote a note, asking that
Jamie be permitted to'come into the yard and play under the elm tree. When
- Leona saw Jamie coming up the walk, in her own yard, her delight knew no
bounds. She ran to meet him, and dolls and buggies and carts and everythinP










she prized was generously turned over to her visitor.. How quickly the after
,ouon passed. Moses was as happy as the children themselves-for if he'could
not talk he could at least bark, and now they were altogether under the tree,
his troubles were forgotten and which were the happier, children or dog, it were
hard to say. So with merry play the beautiful day came to a close. The sun
was sending up his long golden beams in the west. Jamie was called home, and
Leona came into the house. The tired little eyes were growing, drowsy and
the soft curls drooped over the nodding head when mamma undressed her
little girl to make her ready for bed. Then Leo knelt beside her little bed
and repeated the prayer she had been taught: "Now, I 'lay me down to
sleep," and "God bless papa and mamma and everybody, and make Leona a
good girl." But when she had done she did not rise as usual; looking up
earnestly at Ler mother, she said: "Please, mamma, I want to pray my own
prayer now." Then folding her little hands, the sweet childish -voice took on
an earnestness it had not shown before, as she said: "Dear Father in heaven,
I thank you for making Jamie, and 'cause his mamma let him come in my yard
to play. Please make lots more Jamies," and with this sincere expression
of her grateful heart, and her loving recognition that all our blessings come
from the Father above, the tired, happy little girl was ready for bed and soon
asleep.
Moses lay sleeping contentedly on the rug beside the princess' little bed,
ile too had had a happy day. I wonder if he had any way to express his thank.
fulness to his Creator, the same Father in heaven to which Leona prayed, for
the love and companionship of his little playfellows, and for the bright, happy
day he had spent? I believe he had. What do you think about it?
-ANNA L. PARKER.





N-;


"If,~?erz you have-counf ,i
And some seeds there I
Worthless is that floral tin e'
Tind another,-try ag&~


Thus ?eeIrTe's tell e time "
ubt a fact -Lat you should knzow
tIs tath tey are,When there couidnt zbre,
Very careful kow they blov.
kfrox











\ Veek of (ianksgiinog.

ISS ROXY was darning a table-cloth. Miss Roxy being on the
Swarm side of fifty, still adhered to some of the careless ways.
I of youth; she would bite off her thread in spite of warnings.
and protests from her more sedate elder sister, half expecting
a reproof. This morning, however, she escaped, and when
Miss Eunice took off her spectacles, it was only to say, in an
annoyed tone:
"I declare, if a week from to-day ain't Thanksgiving! Does seem
to me it's coming pretty early in the season, with the leaves hardly
down and the grass green as summer."
A week is time for a good deal to happen," said Miss Roxy "I wonder if
John's wife will ask us up there this year. Don't reely seem as if she could with
the children just getting over the measles, and John so behindhand on account
of his broken leg."
Well, Roxy," said Miss Eunice, "it does seem as i' it was kind of forcing;
things to make much fuss over Thanksgiving. I don't say we oughtn't to be
thankful, but a body might do that without having a day set for it. L.ok at.
John's folks now, and look at us, with every last dollar of our savings gone just
as we had a chance to make a good investment in that creamery."
"Yes, it's hard, but I'd rather be the one to lose than the one to rob poor
folks of their savings. I tell you, Eunice, we ought to be thankful we ain't
neither of us the cashier of that bank."
"Don't be a fool, Roxy," said her sister, grimly.
"Well, then," persisted Roxy, "I'm thankful John wasn't; a broken leg:
ain't half so trying' as a bad conscience."
:' Of course they wont ask us there," said Miss Eunice, "and I wouldn't go,
if they did. We'll stay at home and keep our thankfulness and our troubles,
to ourselves. I don't mean to go to church."
"Eunice Martin!" said Miss Roxy, with an appalled face.
"No, I don't. Mercy sakes, Roxy! you needn't look so scared. The
Lord didn't appoint Thanksgiving Day any more 'n Trainn' Day, or 'Lection
Day. It's just the governor, and I've read that he was a regular infidel, any-
how."
Miss Eunice put a little shawl over her head, and went out to see how old
Silas Bowles was getting on with the wood he was sawing, or rather should have










been sawing, for as Miss Eunice came to the door of the shed her keen eyes
pounced upon the old man. sitting on the chopping block, his bleared eyes
,closed in tipsy slumber, while a bottle rested between his feet.
"The miserable old sot!" said Miss Eunice, looking scornfully at the sleep-
er, who quickly roused himself and bustled off for the saw, saying:
"'Scuse me, ma'am, I'm kinder beat out this morning been watching' all
night with a sick critter, and I set down to file the saw and kinder lost my-
self."
Here's your file," said Miss Eunice, significantly, picking up the bottle.
"That? Oh, yes, that's a sort of mixter I keep on hand for the spells that
ketch me in the stomach. It's juniper berries and-and-"
Whisky," said Miss Eunice, grimly.
"Well, yes, there's a leetle liquor in it; not more'n you have in your cam-
phire bottle,"-said the old reprobate, slyly.
"If folks only took liquor through their noses, a whisky bottle mightn't do
any more harm than a camphor bottle," and Miss Eunice went away. She was
on her morning rounds to the barn and the chicken house, and she came back
with a couple of new-laid eggs in her apron, to find the saw again silent, and
old Silas sitting comfortably in the corner of the kitchen, with a bowl of hot
coffee in his clumsy hand.
Rory answered her look of indignant inquiry with a brave little smile
quite unusual to her, and the old man paused between- his sips to say apolo-
getically:
I jes' come in f'r s'm taller to grease the saw, 'n Miss Roxy she fixed me
wp a bowl of coffee. Goes to the spot, I c'n tell ye, when a body hain't got
nothing' inside of him but cold pancakes."
"Cold pancakes!" said Miss Eunice, incredulously.
"Yes'm; my old woman's over to Cap'n Cady's making' sassidge and trying'
,out. She 'lowed she'd git through last night and fetch home suthin'. Mis'
Cady she's allus free with her help, but 'pears-they didn't git done."
The old man finished his coffee, picked up his bit of tallow candle, and
-went out.
Cold pancakes!" said Miss Eunice scornfully. I found him asleep over
a whisky bottle. I s'pose vou gave him that extra chop. I call that encour-
,aging drunkenness."
"'Well, I call it discouraging it," said Miss Roxy, cheerfully. "If I had to
.tart in for a day's work oh cold pancakes I might take to tippling, like as not.
And I may as well tell you, Eunice, I made up my mind if we want going to
.keep Thanksgiving this year any special day, I'd sort of spread it out as fur vt











wouldd reach, and I begun to-day. I am giving thanks that John ain't a poor,
tipsy, old toper, and that breakfast was my thank-offering.
Miss Eunice went slowly to the pantry to put away her eggs, remarking to
herself:
Some folks never do seem to grow up."
Silas came to his work the next day in quite a comfortable condition .i
body and mind. His "old woman" had come home; the family larder was
enriched by such store of "sassidge" and spare-rib as it had not seen in a twelve-
month. The weather was' blustering, however, and Miss Eunice made no,
objection when Roxy set the coffee-pot on the back of the stove, that the old
man might be warmed up by an opportune draught.
I suppose you're still giving thanks about John," said Miss Eunice, looking
curiously at her sister.
"No," said Miss Roxy, laughing in her silent fashion, "I'm giving thanks
that I ain't Silas Bowles' old woman.
"Well, of all things," said Miss Eunice, but Miss Roxy was calmly survey-
ing some red flannel shirts John's wife had given her to make a stripe for the
new carpet.
"That's a nice red," she said, spreadiag a garment on her lap. I thought
I'd get at it and work 'em up before the moths got into 'em, but it seems most
a pity to cut 'em up. There's a good deal of wear in 'em yet if they was fixed
over. Don't you remember, Eunice, what a master hand mother was to make
over."
Was ye cal'lating to make over them shirts for me or for you?" asked
Miss Eunice, with grim sarcasm.
"I was thinking of the McBoles; Jimmy looked so frozen when he came
over last night; I don't s'pose Bridget can sew any more than a hen, but I could
fix these up so't they'd go all winter."
"And leave out your red stripe?"
"Yes, I believe I'll leave out the red stripe. I can-"
Can what?" said Miss Euniice impatiently, as her sister stopped in the
middle of her sentence.
"Make a little thank-offering of it for to-morrow," said Miss Roxy, very
gently, and was soon absorbed in piecing and patching and reducing the gar-
ments to the dimensions of the small boy she measured in her imagination.
Miss Eunice clattering away in the pantry, smiled compassionately to hear her
singing over her work.
"The Lord is my Shepherd, no want shall I know,
I feed in green pastures, safe-folded I rest."











"Roxy's voice ain't what it used to be," she reflected, "but she's a nice
singer yet, and she don't seem to fall off much in her looks, as I see."
Miss Roxy's week of Thanksgiving was almost ended. The day dawned
upon the world with clear, bright skies over a fleece of light snow that caught
the sparkle of the sunshine on millions of crystalline shapes. Her heart had
been growing warmer and younger with each day of kindly deeds, and now, as
she drew aside the curtain and looked out on-the splendor of the morning, she
said softly:
"'And I saw a new heaven and a new earth.' "
"Well," said M'iss Eunice, in an injured tone, "this settles it about going
to church; we can't walk cover in this slosh. I must say I think it's curious
John's not coming near us all the week. He might have sent some word and
said he was sorry not to have us come over, but I s'pose it's his wife's doings.
When a man of his time of life marries a young widder with three children,
tain't to be expected his old maid sisters will count for much."
Miss Roxy went about her morning work meditating upon the possibility
of going to church alone, but Jimmy McBole made his appearance at the house,
heading a procession of small boys, all in a state of noisy hilarity. A big, good-
natured dog was harnessed to a sled, behind which had been constructed an
ingenious scraper, with handles like a plow, which the boys took turns in holding,
the tenure of office only lasting until some one succeeded in tumbling the in-
cumbent into the nearest ditch.
"We've cleaned a path to the gate," said Jimmy, proudly, "and we're going
to the well and the barn, and clean up to the meetin'-house. Mother said she
knew you'd go to meeting' on Thanksgivin' Day, ef you had to swim there,
but we'll fix ye a fust-rate path," and with a crack of his whip, Jimmy roused i1o
the dog and started his cavalcade onward.
"I declare," said Miss Eunice, "if that ain't a real ingenious contrivance*
I reckon we will have to go, after all, seeing' it' turned off so pleasant."
Miss Roxy was thinking of Jimmy McBole with his coat unbuttoned to
show a bit of the warm red shirt; of the grateful look in poor old Sally Dow's
faded eyes when she brought her the cushion of blue and black scraps filched
from her hoarded carpet rags, and her heart was still in a flutter at the thought
of the pleased surprise of the minister's wife, when she pressed into her hand
a five-dollar gold pieces "A little thank-offering for the good you have done me,"
she said, hurriedly. That gold piece had been saved many a year, in case of
anything "happening unexpected," but nothing had happened, and now it
was gpne Miss Roxy really felt lighter, if she had got rid -( the danger
also.










In the porch outside, John's man met them after the service, with sleigh
and extra robes for the long ride.
Going over? Of course we ain't," said Miss Eunice. "We ain't so hard
pushed as to take invitations this time of day."
"Didn't you git Mis' Martin's letter?" said Ezra, staring at them. "She
wrote ye; I heard her say so, and I seen her give it to Mr. Martin tomail when
I was takin' him to the deepo. I bet it's in his pocket yit."
"To the deepo! Where's he gone?" said Miss Eunice, sharply.
"Gone to the city; he was called sudden the day he was cal'latin' to drive
over and see ye. Hadn't ye better be getting in? It's a middlin' long ways,
and the sleighin' ain't none too good."
The sisters settled themselves in silence, and not a word was said until
just as the sled was passing the shut-up house Miss Eunice called out:
"Stop a minute, Ezra, I've got to go in."
She disappeared a few minutes and came out with a basket in her hand,
saying:
I just thought I'd take that, chicken-pie and cranb'ry sass over to Malviny
Bowles as we went by. Seems a pity to have 'em wasted, and I dare say they
wont have anything out of the common run."
They left the unexpected bounty at Silas' door, and sped on over the long.
hilly country road. Only once Ezra turned his frosty face toward them to say,
from the depths of his woolen comforter:
"Say, I heard Mr. Martin tellin' the deepo master they'd got back that
money that was stole, every last dollar."
Silence for some minutes, and then the man turned again to add:
"That feller that was goin' to start the creamery, lie's failed up; gone all
to smash. Lots of folks has lost by him, they say."
"Poor things," said Miss Roxy, compassionately.
"Roxana Martin," said Miss Eunice, grimly, "I'm an ungrateful old gump,
and don't deserve to have another Thanksgiving long as I live."
"If we only got what we deserved, Eunice," said Miss Roxy, mildly, "we''
all of us be dretful bad off."
"Well, I've been feeling so cross-grained all the week I feel as if I sh'd
have to keep Thanksgiving a month to git square."
-EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER.


-~e~s~2~





.. ,









A Boy's HEROIC DEEDS.

A' 31 ist. 18S9, is a day that will lon:- be remembered with .A-
horror bly the people in the beautiful valley of the Cone-
l-.augh, in Pennsylv-ania. On that date occurred the
terrible disaster which is known to the world and will be named in
historyy as the "Johnstown Flood."
For many days previous to that date it had been raining hard,
and great floods extended over a vast region of country in Pennsyl-
v'ania, New York and the District of Columbia.. Never before had
.there been such a fall of rain in that region within the memory of
the- oldest inhabitant. The waters in the river and creeks of that-
beautiful valley rose rapidly and overflowed their banks, while the
1 people-looked on in wonder, but seemingly not in fear. 'Suddenly
there appeared to their wond erin.g gaze a great bay horse galloping
* -. ,at break-neck speed and bearing a rider who waved his hands to them
and cried: 'South Fork-dam will burst. To the hills for your lives."
Only a few heeded his words of warning, while many mocked and
jeered. On dashed the rider to warn still others of the impending
,danger, and, alas, to be himself and horse dashed to death by the mas-
sive timbers of a falling bridge. South Fork dam did break; and the
:rmi ht- waters of Conemaugh Lake were hurled wich resistless force .
1: upn the doomed people of that beautiful valley. The terrible details
of the appalling .lisaster would fill several volumeslarg-r than this. On
-rushed the mighty waters, sIeepling onward in their flood dwellings,
chu 1rcheb anci buildings of every description, whether of wood, brick or
ston-e, until Iohnsto1n was reached and destroyed. The town wai
"-itllv lifted from it; foundations.' Thousands of men, womer --id



"- .~ -~-, -' '-."
-, : .-'." -r 'g -: ,.- .. .. ..._ "..-a, ,_- .' .' ..a- "----.- '











children were caught up and swirled away in the pitiless flood, and their
agonizing but vain appeals for help could be heard amidst the mighty
roar of the waters. Many acts of heroism were performed by brave
men and women-yes, and boys-in rescuing victims of the flood.
Only one of them concerns us here. Charles Hepenthal, a schoolboy,
seventeen years of age, who was on his way to Bellefonte from his,
home at East Liberty, Pa., on the evening of the flood, stood quietly
among the passengers on the express train, as they crowded to view
the terrible havoc done by the flood. As the flood reached the
train, at Sang Hollow, a small frame house came pitching down
the mad tide, an eddy floated it in, near to the train, so close that
the wailing cries of an infant were heard, piercing their way through
the roar. Charles Hepenthal's heart was touched and his courage
was equal to the emergency. He determined to rescue that little
wailing waif from a watery grave. Strong men urged him to desist,
insisting that he would only sacrifice his own life for nothing-that
it was impossible for any one to survive in the surging waters. But
the boy was resolved. He cut the bell cord from the cars, tied it
fast to his body, and out into the whirling gulf he went; he gained
the house, secured the infant and returned through the maddened
waters with the rescued babe in his arms. A shout went up from the
passengers on the train. "Wait!" he cried; "there is still another
in the house, I must save her!" and, seizing a plank to use as a sup-
port, he plunged again into the surging waters. Ah! his struggle
this time was harder, for his precious load was heavy. In the floating
house on his first visit he found a little girl, apparently ten years old,
disrobed and kneeling beside her bed, on which lay the screaming
infant, praying to her Father in heaven to save her and her baby
brother from the fury of the flood. "God has heard my prayer," she
cried, as Charles entered the door. "Oh, save the baby, quick," and
then fainted away on the floor. When Charles had landed the babe
I





















































































SAVED FROM THE FLOOD.













in safety and returned again for the girl, he found her still uncon-
scious on the floor, and the water was fast flowing in at the door. In
another minute she would have been drowned. But the brave boy's
manly arms were soon around her, and with his precious load the
young hero fought his way back to land and was given three times
three cheers and a "tiger" by the passengers of the day express.





A CAT'S EXTRAORDINARY LEAP.


IN the latter part of I880, at a time when the Washington monu-
ment had reached a height of 160 feet, an adventurous and patriotic
cat ascended the interior of the shaft by means of the ropes and
tubing. When the workmen arrived at the upper-landing the next
morning, and began to prepare for the day's work, pussy took fright
and, springing to the outer edge, took a "header" of i60 feet to the
hard earth below. In the descent which was watched closely by two
score of men, the cat spread herself out like a flying squirrel and
alighted on all fours. After turning over on the ground a few times
in a dazed manner, she prepared to leave the grounds and had gotten
almost beyond the shadow of the monument, when a dog belonging
to one of the workmen pounced upon her and killed her, she, of
course, not being in her best running trim, after performing such an
extraordinary feat. One of the men procured the body of the dead
feline, smoothed out- her silky coat, and turned the remains over to a
representative of the Smithsonian Institution, who mounted the skin
and placed it under a glass case. The label on the case tells this
wonderful story in a few words: "This cat on September 23, i88o,
jumped from the top of Washington's monument and lived.'


-3r
---r~-~,~c~gL~?~ --_ -7 ---~-- -:- -F -- :=-~-~-~-~---~-- :;~~; 7-Ri~~--j~T~:~_LI 15i~i~ :iLT~;~I~!
r- -i7


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"EMPTY YOUR POCKETS, AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT."

















A BoY's ADVENTURE WITH A BUSH-RANGER.


UT not your trust in strangers, or in chance acquaintances, is
a precept that has been too frequently disregarded, to the cost
of many a confiding youth. An interesting illustration of this
truth is related as occurring in Australia, soon after the discovery
of gold in that country.
As in all cases of newly-discovered gold-fields, an immediate rush
took place from all quarters to the diggings, and this was followed
shortly after by a perfect reign of terror, caused by bush-rangers, whose
daring outrages committed on persons going to or returning from the
diggings were of daily occurrence. These were desperate men, and had
for their leader a tall, powerful fellow, known by the name of "Black
Dave," who seemed to bear a charmed life; for, though the military.
scoured the bush in all directions, he had never been taken. He
seemed to have a perfect knowledge of the secret movements of those
The attacked, never interfering with any large or well-organized party
,of travelers, but swooping down upon those who were foolhardy
,enough to travel in bands of two or three. He also knew the bush
well, and moved about with amazing speed, appearing with his men first
in one place, then far away in another direction, robbery with violence
always following in his train. Black Dave, however, though of dark
complexion and very powerfully made, was not of forbidding appear-
ance, and, strange to say, was apparently a man of education and
refinement.
On one occasion a young Englishman, named Sidney, eager for
adventure and excitement, had joined himself to a party of men all
proceeding tn the gold fields. Sidney '"as a fine. hbndsr-ne v.i '














fellow, fond of fun, but rash and daring, and soon became a: great
favorite with his-companions. He had a first-class revolver with him,
which, with other valuables and money, he kept carefully hidden on his
person, his other belongings being stowed away in one of the wagons.
When the party camped for the night, care was taken that it should
be in an open space, where a good lookout could be kept, to make
sure against any sudden surprise;, but Black Dave did not seem to be,
in the neighborhood, for several days and nights passed away in per-
fect quiet.
One evening, however, to their great surprise, soon after camping
for the night, they were suddenly joined by a man, who walked out
of the thickest part of the bush, and announced his intention of pro-
ceeding with them to their destination, explaining that he was a perfect
stranger, making his way to the gold-fields, that he had ventured thus
far alone, but being now in the wildest part of the bush he had lost
heart, and determined to join the first party he met with. So taken by
surprise were all the party that they sat mutely staring at the stranger,
who had neither luggage nor provisions with him, nor anything to
indicate that he was bound on a long journey; but though somewhat
suspicious of the truth of his tale, they could not be so inhospitable
as to turn him out, especially as he was very civil, and offered to pay
for any food they might give him. They therefore did not refuse his
request, but determined at the same time to keep a strict watch on
their new friend, and await the progress of events. Meanwhile the
new-comer proved himself well informed and agreeable, took par-
ticular notice of Sidney, walked with him, talked with him, and told
him so many queer and amusing stories that the frank young English-
man formed quite an attachment to the stranger, assuring all his other
companions that he would trust "Godwin," as the stranger called him-
eelf, with untold gold.
Rut the others did not sympathize with this. One or two aueer


-, 7" _1 -_ "













things had been observed about the stranger: he was very fond oQ
detaching Sidney from the others and walking with him alone; it looked
suspicious (though Sidney could not see it); and, indeed, one or two
of them ventured to affirm that the mysterious man was Black Dave
himself. But if so, where were his men? and what object had he in
view? The fourth day after Godwin had joined the party, he asked
Sidney once more to take a walk with him, and the two wandered off
together into the bush. They had not gone very far when Godwin
began to talk about firearms, rifles and revolvers, their various makes
and merits. Suddenly turning to his companion he said, "You have
a revolver, surely?" "Yes," replied Sidney, innocently; "a very fine
one. I paid a big price for it in London, I can tell. you."
"Let me look at it," replied the other, with ill-concealed eagerness;
"I do admire a fine weapon."
Sidney unbuckled his waistband and produced the revolver, which
he handed to Godwin without the slightest hesitation. The stranger
handled it carefully, observed that all its chambers were loaded, and
loudly commented upon its beauty. He then walked a. few steps !i
advance, and, turning round suddenly, presented the weapon full a-
Sidney's head, calling out, in a commanding tone, Stand '' his coun-
tenance so changed as scarcely to be recognized.
Then Sidney knew what was before him, probably death at the
hands of this ruffian, who was none other than Black Dave himself,
For a moment there was profound silence, as the two stood facing
each other, Sidney remembering with a pang that he was totally
unarmed.
"Well," said Godwin, at length, "'You are the poorest fool I ever
saw in all my life! You are not worth shooting! Bu,, look here,
empty your pockets, and be quick about it; aye, and take off that belt,
too, it seems well-lined and heavy. Give me every blessed shiner you
have, or I declare-L-illU drop you where you stand."


32













With a throbbing heart and a quickened pulse, poor Sidney sur-
:endered his money and other valuables, which Godwin secured and
stowed away.
Now return to your friends," he called out, in a voice of thunder,
-'Tell them that Black Dave only wanted a weapon and some spare
cash, and if they venture to pursue him, he and his men will give
them a warm reception." So saying, the villain turned on his heel and
strode away into the bush, leaving Sidney to return to his mates with
his dismal story. We need scarcely say that Black Dave was not
pursued. But it is some satisfaction to know that this man's evil
career was ended soon after this; he was shot dead in a skimish with
the military





FOXY RAT-CATCHER.


i PENNSBURG, PA., gentleman, whose barn was formerly overrun
.:ith rats, is no longer troubled with them, and he used neither traps
nor dogs in driving them out. About a year ago he purchased a fox
somewhere in the west. The fox was given the freedom of the barn,
and in a short time after its arrival all the rats found it convenient to
depart, and none of them seemed to have believed it expedient to
return. Reynard catches rats after the manner of a terrier, and when
not engaged is frequently seen following his master about like a well-
behaved canine, to which he bears no little resemblance. He is per-
fectly tame, and goes about the streets of the town without being
molested by the dogs that roam around ready to attack any animal
not of their own tribe.

















A DOUBLE ENCOUNTER WITH BEARS.


It HE following dangerous adventure with bears occurred in the
vicinity of Tara-height, on the Madawaska River, a few years
ago. A trap had been set by one of the men named Jacob Harrison,
who, being out in search of a yoke of oxen on the evening in question,
saw a young bear fast in the trap, and three others close at hand in a
very angry mood, a fact which rendered it necessary for him to make
tracks immediately. On arriving at the farm, he gave the alarm, and,
seizing an old dragoon sabre, he was followed to the scene of action
by Mr. James Burke, armed with a gun, and the other man with an
ax. They proceeded direct to the trap, supplied with a rope, intend-
ing to take the young bear alive. It being a short time after dark,
.objects could not be distinctly seen; but on approaching close to the
scene of action, a crushing among the leaves and dry branches, with
sundry other indications, warned them of the proximity of the old
animals. When within a few steps of the spot, a dark mass was seen
on the ground-a growl was heard-and the confined beast made a
furious leap on Jacob, who was in advance, catching him by the legs.
The infuriated animal inflicted a severe wound on his knee, upon
which he drew his sword and defended himself with great coolness.
Upon receiving several wounds from the sabre, the cub com-
mnenced to growl and cry in a frightful and peculiar manner, when the
old she-bear, attracted to the spot, rushed on the adventurous Har-
rison, and attacked him from behind with great ferocity. Jacob
turned upon the new foe, and wielded his trusty weapon with such
energy and success that in a short time he deprived her of her fore
paws bv a lucky stroke and completely disabled her, eventually by a


__ __


- 1, *.** L*'- .-i






















































































TAKING AIM AT THE BEAR.


.:- ***W.-i--.^v'













desperate cut across the neck, which divided the tendons and severed
the spinal vertebra. Having completed his conquest, he had ample
time to dispatch the imprisoned cub at leisure.
During the time this stirring and dangerous scene was occurring,
war was going on in equally bloody and vigorous style at a short
distance. Mr. Burke having discharged his gun: at the other old
bear, only slightly wounded him; the enraged bruin sprang at nim
with a furious howl. He was met with a blow from the but-end of
the fowling-piece. At the first stroke the stock flew in pieces, and the
next the heavy barrel was hurled a distance of twenty feet among
the underwood by a side blow from the dexterous paw of the bear.
Mr. Burke then retreated a few feet, and placed his back against a
large hemlock, followed the while closely by the bear, but, being:
acquainted with the nature of the animal and his mode of attack, he
drew a large hunting knife from his belt, and, placing his arms by his
side, coolly awaited the onset.
The maddened brute approached, growling and gnashing his.
teeth, and, with a savage spring, encircled the body of the hunter and
the tree in his iron grip. The next moment the flashing blade of the
knife tore his abdomen, and his smoking entrails rolled upon the
ground. At this exciting crisis of the struggle the other man, accom-
panied by the dog, came up in time to witness the triumphal close of
the conflict.
Two old bears and a cub were the fruits of this dangerous venture
-all extremely fat-the largest of which, it is computed, would
weigh upward of two hundred and fifty pounds. Mr. Burke received
no injury; Mr. Jacob Harrison, although torn severely, and having
three ribs broken, recovered under the care of an Indian doctor of
the Algonquin tribe.


_ _~


P















A LEOPARD HUNT.


iHE leopard's power of climbing makes it a more insidious and
]L dangerous animal than a tiger, to man and beast. It is a
scourge to the villages of India where it takes up its abode. It slips
along without any noise, and will creep up to a veranda full of people
without anyone suspecting its presence.
An incident which occurred in one of these Indian villages, which
well illustrates the insidious nature of the leopard's attack, is related
as follows: A gentleman was sitting in an easy chair one evening
playing with a little fox terrier; he arose to go inside the house, plac-
ing the dog on the chair, and had just reached the door of the room
when there was a sudden rush behind him, the chair was overturned,
there was a half stifled yelp, and away bounded a large leopard over
the veranda railings with the dog in his mouth, and was clear away
in the darkness before anyone had time to snatch up one of the guns,
which are always kept loaded for such emergencies. The man was
lucky to have escaped the fate of the poor terrier, for the leopard is
no respecter of persons, and is not over scrupulous whether his victims
are beasts or men.
A traveler relates that once a monster leopard made a dash upon
a herd of beeves, and succeeded in carrying off a large ox; and loud
was the lament of the poor Hindoos that one of the sacred herd had
thus unceremoniously been assailed and slaughtered before their eyes.
A party of the Bengal native infantry, consisting of an officer and five
others, having been informed of the circumstance, followed in the
direction of the leopard's den determined, if possible, to punish him
for this and the many other depredations he had committed Having


- ---- ---'-T--~d












































Fi




vb











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THELEOARDBOUDIN Re, 4 "P -!S-- .~












come to an intervening ravine, they were about to cross it, when they
saw the object of their search on the opposite side. There he was,
lying in his lair, heedless of danger, and luxuriously feasting on the
carcass of his captive. It was the monster's last meal, however. The
party approached with stealthy steps, as near as they could without
crossing the defile. Take your aim, fire !" cried the captain. They
did so, and four balls pierced the leopard, three in the neck and one
in a more dangerous place, through the brain. Startled by this
unpleasant salute, the animal rose, gazed with glaring eyes on its
enemies, at the same time pawing the earth in its pain and fury.
The sepoys were astonished that he did not roll lifeless at their
feet; but, instead of this, before they had time to reload, the creature,
after uttering a terrific cry, sprang across the ravine and seized one of
its assailants. It must have been, in some degree, weakened by its.
wounds; but its strength was yet great, for the man seemed to have
no power of resistance to its attack. The leopard, having a hold of
the sepoy in its mouth, darted off in the direction of a jungle close at
hand, the other soldiers following up as fast as they could, but not
daring to fire lest they injure their luckless comrade. Sometimes
they lost sight of the leopard and its bleeding burden; but the blood
marks on the grass or on the sand enabled them to regain the trail,
and to carry on the pursuit. The animal at length came to a small'
river; it hesitated for a little on the brink, and then leaped in, still
tenaciously retaining its prey. The stoppage thus occasioned enabled
the pursuers to gain ground, and, just after the leopard had emerged
from the river, and was shaking its skin free from the watery drops,
one of the party seized the auspicious moment, and fired. The beast
dropped its prey at once, howled furiously, and then fell dead. To
their great surprise and joy, the soldiers found that their comrade
was still alive, though he had fainted from fear and from weakness
occasioned by the loss of blood. He gradually recovered, and. under




.W


the stimulating influence of a cup of brandy, was able to proceed
home with his comrades. The soldiers returned, sometime after, and
skinned the animal, carrying home it spotted covering for a trophy.





THE RAVENS OF ALASKA.

THE Alaska raven is a fine-looking bird, as large as a turkey, and
ipon closer acquaintance a real handsome fellow. His coat is indeed
black, but of a black glossier and richer than silk and softer than
velvet, while in a semi-shade the feathers are tinged with that peculiar
color so often seen on well preserved blue-black bronze. It is very
:unny to see these birds h-lding, as it were, a conclave. Ten or a
dozen alight on the ground and walk to the meeting place with a
stately, erect step, their every movement cool and assured. Then an
old bird steps gravely into the middle, and tne meeting begins with a
series of guttural and harsh croaks, which gradually swell in volume
until the entire lot of birds have joined in the debate. Along comes
a dog, and for him they scatter, resuming their positions when he
passes, until the meeting again terminates, and they fly off to the
beach and hills. These birds are seldom killed, unless it be by some
sailor in pure wantonness. If you examine the bills of these ravens
the peculiar construction is remarkable. They are a combination of
chisel, scissors, dagger and gimlet. The bill forms an important
-factor in the raven's existence, for he has to dig on the beach for
clams, bore the hard shell by repeated chipping, and again, in pure
mischief, he will tear and break anything that his bright and unerring
eye lights upon.


*I




Y.4'-'


Whe Sparrows and the Soew-Fakes.


AID the sparrows to the snow-flakes:
"Where did you come from, pray?
You make the trees all wet and cold;
We wish you'd go away."

Said the snow-flakes to the sparrows:
"Don't be so rude and bold;
Your feather coats are nice and warm-
You cannot feel the cold."
Said the sparrows to the snow-flakes:
"You cover up the way;
We'll starve, because we cannot find
A thing to eat to-day."


"Dear sparrows," said the snow-flakes.
S"Now do not get so mad:
We come from yonder cloudland,
To make the children glad.
"And the little ones who love us,
They love the sparrows too;
They'll scatter crumbs each morning,
And houses build for you."
"Of course we will, and gladly,"
Said the little children all.
"We love the tiny snow-flakes-
We love the sparrows small."
-N. M.











ON


v .


.... I-









SLit in the 1oin.

~JTTLE DICK is in a sad fix. His mamma sent him over to Mr. Day's
with a basket of clothes she had washed for Mrs. Day. It was
m snowing a lit-
tie when Dick
started, so hle took an
umbrella. He put the
basket on the sled Santa
Claus had brought him
and started out in a
merry mood. But the
.wind blew hard and
turned his umbrella
-vrong side out.
Dick thought it
was spoiled and began
to cry. See his face.
Does he not look sad?
When he gets to Mrs.
Day's she will fix his
umbrella and give him
a big apple. Then he
will not cry any more.
Dick ought to khnw that
it will do no good to cry.
It is as easy to laugh as
to cry. Which do you
do when things do not,
suit you ?




W -


COME, my drowsy little one,
Come here to mother's-knee,
From which the boat of sleep sets
sail
Across the Slumber ...
0 come, and kiss me sweet good night,
And then away, away,
To find the shores of Slumberland,..
Where all the dream-elves stay.
O, kiss good night, my little one.
And then away, away,
But to the land of Wide-awake
Come back at peep o'day.

See, dear, the sleep-boat's sails are spread,
Like wings of some white bird.
And lo! with winds from twilight land
Each snowy sail is stirred.
And hark! the bells of Slumberland
Are ringing sweet and low,


I hear the boatman calling you-,
It's time for you to go.

O, kiss good night,-my little one:
And then away, away,
But to the land of Wide-awake
Come back at peep o'day.

SGood night, my sleepy little dear,
Take mother's loving kiss
STo dream of as you sail away.
And dream, my child, of this:
That mother's heart is warm and true
Her love will never fail,
And it will always follow you,
No matter where you sail.

0, kiss good-night, my little o _:.
And then away, away,
But to the land of Wide-awake
Come back at peep o'day.
-SELECTE,


Be tie So0nr Q
\ '- f -----











Ecu'W faQilurex

MAMMA!" and Lou rushed into Mrs. Allen's sitting-room with
a bound, "the professor of the Art School has offered a
prize for the best piece, of painting! How lovely! for,
mamma, I'm sure to get it; everybody in school says I
have the finest talent."
"I hope you may," said Mrs. Allen kindly, as she called
one of the smaller children to close a door Lou had thought-
lessly left open. Lou, meanwhile, threw her books on the floor, her
lunch-basket on a chair, and sat twirling her hat on one finger while
she told mamma "all about it."
"I believe you forgot to care for Dicky this morning, dear; at least, I
found him without food or water some little time after you had gone to school."
Mrs. Allen said this while Lou rested from her first gush of enthusiasm.- "Be-
sides, Hannah tells me you forgot to order the roast this morning, and we were
obliged to go without meat for dinner. Papa was not at home, so it did not
matter so much, but I do wish you would try and be more thoughtful, dear."
"I really hate to think of such things, mamma. I am tired to death of
Dicky and I always did dislike shopping, or anything belonging to a kitchen."
Mamma might have asked Lou what she did not dislike.
'When I get farther along in painting," Lou said with a satisfactory little
tod, "I wont think of such horrid things any more, but only of my beautiful
painting and my darling books."
The few weeks before the trial week were passed very quickly. There were
new studies to copy and new tints to mix and test.
"I am sure I wont get the prize," said Leah Forbes as she leaned wearily
over her easel. "I have no time to study anything but bread and cake and
dirty dishes. How I wish mamma was well, or we could have a good house-
keeper!"
The whole school knew how heavy were Leah Forbes' burdens, and the
more kindly disposed tried to help her bear them by offering friendly sympathy
and gentle words. 4
The-long-looked-for week came at last, the week for making the prize pic-
tures. Each pupil was to choose her own design and copy according to her
best taste and progress in the work. The professor was to be absent these days
so far as giving help or offering suggestions was concerned, and each was in all .
ways to depend solely upon herself.









"I[ shall paint flowers," said Lou to Mrs. Allen the morning beginning the
,eek for painting the prize pictures.. "Sweet wild roses, purple heliotrope,
with geranium leaves and lilies of the valley. Wont that make a beautiful
picture?"
"They are all very pretty flowers;" and Mrs. Allen stooped to replace a tidy
Lou had ruthlessly pushed from a chair.
"Good-by, mamma," Lou cried cheerfully as sne passed through the
gate; "help me to think of the very nicest way to spend my prize money."
Five days of unceasing labor and the pictures were finished and num-
bered and sent nameless to the judges in a neighboring city who were to ex-
amine and decide as to the finest workmanship.
"Did you see this one?" said Professor Jones, pointing to a painting of
flowers. "I think it is the best-I have seen."
"So I thought, and I still believe she possesses the finest taste, but I
think she is careless as regards little things; for instance, she has put the lilies
of the valley on heliotrope stems and vice versa. I am very sorry; but for this
the work of a thoughtless moment, she would justly deserve the prize."
"Strange I did not see this," said Professor Jones, still eyeing the picture
admiringly; "possibly because the design is so pleasing."
"Here is one, said Professor Barrows, pushing forward a painting ef three
loaves of bread still in the tin and apparently fresh from the oven. "I call
this design strikingly natural. The true, perfect brown, a trifle darker on top,
the sides bulging a little over the tin, as I've often seen my mother's bread look
when it was extra light, while the cracks and seams are points deserving out
attention."
When the morning came for telling the pupils the decision of the judges a
row of expectant faces greeted the professor. After a few introductory words,
the professor said.-
"Leah Forbes will please step forward and receive the prize for dis-
playing the most artistic workmanship of my class."
For a moment the room was very still, then Leah, tired, slender Leah,
who had worked with perhaps the faintest heart of all, received the congratu-
lations of her teacher and class.
"You are ever so much more deserving than I, and I think I am glad you
got the prize." No one knew how much this little friendly speech cost Lou
Allen.
Watching her opportunity Lou slipped away and home, where she felt she
could sob at will over her bitter disappointment.
"The professor gave us each a card with a personal verse, he said, written











on it." Lou said this after her mother's kindly sympathy had stayed the torrent
of her grief. "Mine is:-
"The poet, the artist, the sculptor,
The same simple story tell:
That they who would rank with the greatest
Must do the little things well."
"I think, my dear, your teacher understood his pupil when he sent my Luu
that verse."
That night, alone in her room, Lou fought one of the hardest battles of
her life, and let us hope she came off victorious.
A few months later Lou'got a letter written in a strange, cramped hand and
bearing an odd postmark. It read :-
ALASKA.
My dear Miss Lou:-I want to tell you that the pretty painting you sent
us in the missionary box has taught me to love Jesus, and led me to become a
Christian. LALA REEVES.
"How strange!" said Lou to her mother that evening as they sat alone;
"but my failure has done more good than a success could possibly have done,
for it has helped a soul to love Jesus: besides," and Lou looked at Mrs. Allen
thoughtfully, "I think it has taught me to be more careful and thoughtful in aPI
things."
"I know it has, dear!" and Mrs. Allen stooped to kiss her daughter's cheek; -
"and I hope this may teach my daughter that failures are often blessings in dis-
guise."
Then Mrs. Alleni repeated softly in the gathering twilight.-
"All our heaviest blows are surely
Inflicted by our Master's hand;
So let us pray 'as God will,'
And hope in him and suffer still."



f A.4


--- *










Aer'e and (here (fpo'n the Ilobe.

The Land of the Vikings.

OME, Paul, tell us of your visit to Norway last summer,"'saio
dll 1 Sarah, as the children sat around the table at Grandfather Lee's, .
one cold, rainy evening, where they had gathered to spend a
week in gathering nuts and apples and, perhaps, to get a piece
of pumpkin pie and an occasional doughnut such as only Grand-
ma Lee can make. "Yes," said grandpa, "the night is cold and dreary enough ,
for even a Norwegian, and a description of the land of the Vikings, the home
of Hans Andersen, whom children love so well; and of Ole Bull, whose swect
strains on his loved violin have opened new beauties to thousands of lovers of
music, would certainly give pleasure to us all."
"Well," said Paul, with some hesitation, "if my recollections of a pleasant
summer in Norway can help you to spend an evening, I will tell them as best I
can. The trip I liked best was from Christiana to North Cape and return,
though the time spent in Christiana was full of pleasant surprises." "Tell us
something of that city, Paul," said grandpa; "we would like to know whether it
is like the cities in our own land." "Yes," chimed in Sarah, I have read much
about it and would like to know from some one who has seen it if what I have
read is true." I cannot tell what you have read," replied Paul, "but there is
much to interest one there. The city is not unlike an American city; the
streets are broad and well kept, the houses not so tall, perhaps, as we see them
here, and the people seem to enjoy life. While I was there it was always light.
From eleven until twelve at night was the darkest hour and even then one
could distinguish objects as easily as in our own twilight. After twelve it began
to grow lighter and at almost all hours of the night the streets were full of
people. There are a great many shops where ales and stronger liquors are
sold, which gives the traveler an unfavorable opinion of the place; still, but few
intoxicated persons are met.
"One of the most noted buildings is Oscar's Hall, built on a wooded knoll
in a little park on a promontory just outside the city. It was built by King.
Oscar for his son, but sold to the Norwegian Congress by King Carl XV. and is .
used as an art gallery. Another point of interest is the saeter, where the cows
are kept, and where the peasant girls go to take care of them and to make
cheese. A friend and I. drove up there one afternoon and passed through a
dozen or more gates, at each of which was a little boy or girl ready to open it,









and ready also to pocket the ore which we gave him. The ore is the small.
ocu coin used and is one-fourth,of a cent in our money. The saeter is a co'-
lection of houses such as the peasants build, only much more comfortable. A
bed is built in one corner of the house and, of course, cannot be moved. Near
by is the store-house or granary, the second story of which projects beyond the
first on all sides. The whole is set on posts and is a -quaint affair to look
upon.
But I-mustlhurry if I get to North Cape to-night," said Paul. "In going
to North Cape our party went by rail from Christiana to Throndhjem, a dis-
tance of three hundred and fifty miles. This railroad, by the way, is the only
one of any length in Norway, the country being too mountainous to permit of
them. The stops are long and frequent and twenty-four hours were spent in
going this distance. The cars are much like those of England, and our party
filled one compartment very nicely. We stopped at a little town for supper
and hardly knew what to do at first. The table was set with plates, knives,
forks and napkins, while on smaller tables at the sides were bountiful supplies
of fish, meats, vegetables, bread and coffee. There being no waiters each one
had to help himself, so, filling our plates with what we wanted, we ate our
suppers, stepped to the counter and paid for what we had eaten, the attendant
taking our word for what we had had without a murmur.
The night on the train was not altogether comfortable, but we made the
best of it.. At no time during the night was it so dark but that we could see the
time by our watches. The country through which we passed the last day was
like much of our own. The soil was poor and the farms bore an air of poverty.
I cculd easily understand why the Norwegians are so prosperous in America
when I saw the soil they tilled in their native land. From time to time we
passed a substantial looking farm-house, but most of them had turf roofs, and
the house could not be told from the stable, and several times we saw bushes
growing from the turf on the roofs of houses.
"While waiting in Throndhjem for the steamer I wandered around the
town to see the people. An elderly fisherwoman became quite talkative when
she found I was from America, and seemed quite disappointed because I had
not met her son, who was somewhere in Minnesota.
"The boats which run from Christiana to North Cape and back carry
freight as well as passengers and it was not a rare occurrence for the captain
to find a telegram at some little town telling him to hold his boat for a cargo
fromrsome hamlet in the interior. The telegraph runs everywhere and is used
freely by the people. The boat we were on was loaded with salt, flour and
provisions on her up trip, and with fish and lumber back. Our captain could


i .II_


























































TfBUlit'k1]ElG I"~ T --F~~~












A.~. S










speak English quite well and, as he w-. a good-natured soul, freely answered
our many questions. He told us that on many trips the mist was so dense that
nothing could be seen, but, fortunately, we had clear weather and made the
most of it. The shore is rocky and in many places great iron bolts are driven
into the rocks, to which vessels are mocred while taking on cargo. We passed
the Giantess, a huge rock with some faint resemblance to a human form, and
the captain told us the story of it, whichI will give. This giantess lived upon
one of the many islands here and used to step from one to another with perfect
ease when she wished to go from place to place. One day while passing along
playing with her parasol she discovered a suitor whom she disliked very much
in pursuit of her. She started to run away from him when her brother, a giant
at work near by getting out a glacier to put on his water pitcher, stopped his
labors and gave chase tc the suitor. The suitor shot an arrow at the giant, but
only succeeded in shooting a hole in his hat. The wind whistled through the
hat so loudly that the giant dashed it to the ground, when the sun sent a strong
ray of light upon the hat and turned it into stone. At the: same time a part'of
the ray went through the hole, struck the giantess and her suitor, and turned
them ioth into stone. They fell upon their sides and remain to this day as a
proof of the truth of the story."
"I don't believe that," said Sarah; "it sounds too much like a story book."
Neither do I," said Paul, "but I give it to you as the captain told it."
At one place we stopped, on a Sunday morning," continued Paul, "a
Lapp came down to the boat. He was a short, thick-set man; wearing an odd
shaped woolen frock, leather leggins, reindeer-skin shoes, and a peaked woolen
cap. He spoke to the captain, who asked us if we wanted to go to church. Of
course we wanted to go, and we followed the Lapp some distance to the church.
This was a large, eight-sided building, and as-we came near we noticed men,
women and boys on the outside, some talking, some whittling, and some asleep.
The women wore handkerchiefs on their heads and the men heavy woolen
mufflers around their throats, though the day was hot. These articles seemed
to constitute the main part of their, Sunday clothes. Upon trying to enter the
church we found it crowded, the men and women in the seats, the boys standing
on one side of the aisle and the girls on the other. An old clergyman, dressed
in a black robe with white ruffles at the neck and wrists and wearing a skull
cap, was slowly coming down the aisle catechizing the children. We did not
wait for him to finish but got out of doors and back to the ship.
At Tromso we-went on land and I went to a hotel and asked for a
bath. The landlord brought out a huge, wooden tub, water, soap and towels
and left me to myself. Itwas not such a bath as I was used to, but I made the
b ;.t of it















































4


~


--
--
1






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---
--~-


--~--=-=-
-=-~- "--~---~-~


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=~= --


~`~-r-' '~-~`1;23~' ZIL~t.~Bi~ca~~a~i~B~ "




I "- '






"After we had got on-board the ship the captain said he thought we cnuld
see the sun at midnight if we cared to. Just at twelve we all gathered on trhe
deck and there was the sun on the edge of a bank of cloud, shining brightly, and
I saw what has always seemed strange to me-the midnight sun.
"The next forenoon found us at Hammerfest, the most northern town in
S the world. It is a quaint little town lying at the foot of a steep, high hill, close
to the water's edge. It has a fine harbor; though, and this was filled with ships.
As we rambled through the town we noticed the door key hanging upon a nail
outside the door at almost every house. The people are honest and seem to
have no thought of danger from this source. It was while there, grandpa,
that, I wrote you that letter headed, 'The Most Northern Town in the
World.'
Leaving there we went on and reached North Cape in the early evening
.and after supper made the ascent, and from this rough, rocky point once more
saw the strange spectacle of the sun shining at midnight. While standing on
the rocks one of the party recited Longfellow's poem, 'The Discoverer of thb
North Cape,' beginning:
1 'Othere, the old sea-captain,
Who dwelt in Heligoland,
To King Alfred, the Lover of Truth,
2 Brought a snow-white walrus-tooth,
Which he held in his brown right hand.'"
-- 'es, children, I read that poem when Paul's letter came," said g-andpa,
"and it helped me to understand where Paul was. Mr. Longfellow has told us
,much of Norse tradition in in his poems. His 'Skeleton In Armor' is the best
known, but if you will look through his works you will find many others. Go
on with your story, Paul."
S" Our trip back was-uneverrtfl," said Paul. It was interesting to see the
sailors load fish. At every stopping-place were barrels and barrels of herring
waiting to be taken on. These were loaded with a large derrick and it seemed
to me no market could be found for the quantity we had. You know that the
fisheries are the main support of these people.
"At one town at which we stopped I noticed a sheaf of grain mounted on
a high pole and asked the captain what it meant. He said the Norwiegians
tiave a pretty custom of fastening a sheaf of grain near their barns for the birds
to feed upon at Christmas time. The sheaf we saw was stripped of grain but
had not been taken down. At Christmas time the farmers sell these sheaves in
i the towns for this purpose, just as Christmas wreaths are sold with us. It is a
Pretty notion and speaks volumes for the kind hearts of these simple
people.










"But it is bed-fime now, and I fear if 1 get back to Christiana to-night
grandma will have no one to help eat those waffles which she promised' us for
breakfast in the morning, so I think I had better say, -as the stories-do, 'tn be
continued.' "
"Well, Paul, you have given us a pleasant evening," said grandpa, "and
have proved, too, that a boy can get a good deal out of a trip to the land of the -
Vikings," .
































'TLH I LlAD OF' 'rHu MIDNIGHI'r 8U5 ,





\---^


I ~

























I




_
I















A MURDERER TRIED AND CONVICTED BY A DOG.

S ERHLPS every boy in America, who can read, knows some-
-thing about a "trial by jury." But how many of them,-we
wonder, know anything about a trial by battle? In olden
times it was generally believed, as God was always on the side of .
right as against wrong, that, therefore, in a case of contest He
would always give the victory to the side whose cause was just and
eight Hence arose the custom of "trial by battle," where the
"plaintiff and "defendant were each armed with a cudgel or some
similar weapon, and required to determine their dispute by a duel,
the right always being adjudged to rest with the victor. A very
remarkable trial of this kind occurred during the reign of Louis VII.,f
of France, where a dog was admitted as one of the parties to the
trial. An officer of the king's body-guard,, named Montidier, while in
the Forest of Bondy, near Paris, accompanied by his greyhound, was
murdered and his body buried in the forest. Sometime after the
murdered officer's greyhound was seen to go into the forest, lay down
on some newly turned earth and begin a most mournful howling.
The ground was dug up, and the body of the murdered officer dis-
covered. It was noticed that since the death of its master the dog
had taken a' great dislike to a certain other officer of the guard,
named Macaire, springing upon him whenever it saw him, and on
one occasion would have choked him to death had it not been forcibly
taken off. Suspicion was thus aroused of Macaire's guilt of murder-
ing his fellow officer, and he was summoned before the king, who
required, him to be brought face to face with the dog, when the
animal at once sprang at him. The king then charged Macaire with





LD
pr -T
... -


THE TRIAL SB rTAFTLE.-


~J~ilwrin. -~ J













tl, murder, but the latter strenuously denied his guilt, and protested
that he was innocent of any share in the murder. The king, how-
ever, believed that the dog's actions were based upon his knowledge
of Macaire's guilt, and "he decided that the matter should be deter-
mined by a "trial by battle between the man and the dog.
The king and his entire court assembled to witness the battle.
Macaire was armed with a formidable club, but the dog succeeded in
avoiding his blows, and, with a sudden spring, fastened on his throat
with so firm a hold that Macaire could not free himself, and finding
that he was being strangled he cried out that he was guilty, and im-
plored that the dog be taken off. With much difficulty the dog was
made to let go his hold, when Macaire made a full confession of the
crime and was taken away and executed. It is the only case recorded
where a murderer was duly tried and convicted by a dog



A PICNIC FOR THE WOODPECKER.

THrI English sparrow has a mortal enemy in the common red-
headed woodpecker, who, though no giant among birds, is as big as
half a dozen English sparrows and not afraid of half a hundred. The
woodpecker's beak is so hard, and his head and neck are so powerful,
that in a single peck he can kill a sparrow, and the English birds
have become aware of his powers, and are very much afraid of him.
The appearance of a red-headed woodpecker will set a whole flock of
sparrows to flight, and the only time they will face him is when he
makes an onset on their nests. The-eggs of the sparrows are not
larger than peas, and their young about the size of grubworms, and a
nestful of young sparrows is a dainty picnic for a woodpecker, which
he is careful not to overlook. The sparrows will fight, but they
can not drive him away.


_--- I----~---------~




.' S.'. .' l;'Z ^ 'E ~-" ".


A TERRIBLE TUSSLE WITH A WHALE.

HE ship Ann Alexander, Captain J. S. Deblois, sailed from
J New Bedford, Mass., June ist, 1850, for a cruise in the South
Pacific for sperm whale. Having taken about five hundred barrels
of oil in the Atlantic, the ship proceeded on her voyage to the Pacific.
Nothing of unusual interest occurred until, when passing Cape Horn,
one of the men, named Jackson Walker, of Newport, N. H., was lost
overboard in a storm. Reaching the Pacific, she came up the coast
and stopped at Valdivia, on the coast of Chili, for fresh provisions,
and on the 31st day of May, 1851, she called at Paita for the purpose
of shipping a man. The vessel proceeded on her return voyage to
the South Pacific.
On the 20th of August she reached what is known to all whalers
as the off-shore ground," in latitude five degrees fifty minutes south,
longitude one hundred and twenty degrees west. In the morning of
that day, at about nine o'clock, whales were discovered in the neigh-
borhood, and about noon, the same day, they succeeded in making
fast to one. Two boats had gone after the whales--the larboard
and the starboard, the former commanded by the first mate, the latter
by Captain Deblois. The whale which they had struck was har-
pooned by the larboard boat. After running some time, the whale
turned upon the boat, and, rushing at it with tremendous violence,
lifted open its enormous jaws, and, taking the boat in, actually crushed
it into- fragments as small as a common chair! Captain Deblois
immediately struck for the scene of the disaster with the starboard
boat, and succeeded, against all expectation, in rescuing the whole of
the crew of the boat-nine in number.


_J





















































































A TERRIBLE TUSSLE WITH A WHALL












There was now eighteen men in the starboard boat, consisting of
the captain, the first mate and the crews of both boats. The frightful
disaster had been witnessed from the ship, and the waist boat was
called into readiness, and sent to their relief. The distance from the
ship was about six miles. As soon as the waist boat arrived the
crews were divided, and it was determined to pursue the same whale,
and make another attack upon him. Accordingly they separated,
and proceeded at some distance from each other, as is usual on- such
occasions, after the whale. In a short time they came up to him, and
prepared to give him battle. The waist boat, commanded by the
first mate, was in advance. As soon as the whale perceived the
demonstration being made upon him, he turned his course suddenly,
and, making a tremendous dash at this boat, seized it with his wide-
spread jaws, and crushed it to atoms, allowing the men barely time
to escape his vengeance, by throwing themselves into the ocean.
Captain Deblois, again seeing the perilous condition of his men,
at the risk of meeting the same fate, directed his boat to hasten to
their rescue, and in a short time succeeded in saving them all from a
death little less horrible than that from which they had twice so nar-
rowly escaped. He then ordered the boat to put for the ship as
speedily as possible; and no sooner had the order been given than
they discovered the monster of the deep making toward them with
his jaws widely extended. Fortunately, the monster came up and
passed them at a short distance. The boat then made her way to
the ship, and they all got on board in safety.
After reaching the ship a boat was dispatched for the oars of the
demolished boats, and it was determined to pursue the whale with
the ship. As soon as the boat returned with the oars, sail was set
and the ship proceeded after the whale. In a short time she over-
took him, and a lance was thrown into his head. The ship passed on
by him, and immediately after they discovered that the whale was












making for the ship. As he came up near her they hauled on the wind, ,
and suffered the monster to pass her. After he had fairly passed
they kept off to overtake and attack him again. When the ship
had reached within about fifty rods of him they discovered that the
whale had settled down deep below the surface of the water, and, as
it was near sundown, they concluded to give up the pursuit.
Captain Deblois was at this time standing in the night-heads on
the larboard bow, with lance in hand, ready to strike the monster a
deadly blow should he appear, the ship moving about five knots, when,
working on the side of the ship, he discovered the whale rushing
toward her at the rate of fifteen knots. In an instant the monster
struck the ship with tremendous violence, shaking her from stem to
stern. She shivered under the violence, of the shock as if she had
struck upon a rock. Captain Deblois immediately descended into
the forecastle, and there, to his horror, discovered that the monster
had struck the ship two feet from the keel, abreast the foremast.
knocking a great hole entirely through the bottom. Springing to the
deck, he ordered the mate to cut away the anchors and get the cables
overboard, to keep the ship from sinking, as she had a large quantity
of pig iron on board. In doing this the mate succeeded in getting
only one anchor and one cable clear, the other having been fastened
around the foremast. The ship was then sinking rapidly. 'Th(
captain went to the cabin, where he found three feet of water; he,
however, succeeded in procuring a chronometer, sextant and chart.
Reaching the decks, he ordered the boats to be cleared away, and
to get water and provisions, as the ship was keeling over. He again
descended to the cabin, but the water was rushing in so rapidly that
he could procure nothing. He then came upon deck, ordered all -
hands into the boats, and was the last to leave the ship, which he did
by throwing himself into the sea, and swimming to the nearest boat.
The ship was on her beam end, top-gallant yards under the water




































































































S1GNALJSG THE SHIP..












*They then pushed off some distance from the ship, expecting her to
sink in a very short time. Upon an examination of the stores they
had been able to save, he discovered that they had only twelve quarts
of water, and not a mouthful of provisions of any kind. The boats
contained eleven men each, and were leaky, and, night coming on, the
men were obliged to bail them all night to keep them from sinking.
Next day, at daylight, they returned to the ship, no one daring to
venture on board but the captain, their intention being to cut away
the masts, and fearful that the moment the masts were cut away that
the ship would go down. With a single hatchet the captain went on
board and cut-away.the mast, when the ship righted. The boats then
came up, and the men, by the sole aid of spades, cut away the chain
cable from around the foremast, which got the ship nearly on her keel.
The men then tied ropes around their bodies, got into the sea and
cut a hole through the decks to get out provisions. They could pro-
cure nothing but about five gallons of vinegar and twenty pounds of
.vet bread.
On the 22d of August, at about five o'clock P. M., they had the
indescribable joy of seeing a ship in the distance. They made signal
and were soon answered, and in a short time they were reached by
the ship Nantucket, of Nantucket, Mass., Captain Gibbs, who tool
them on board, and extended to them the greatest possible hospitality
On the succeeding day Captain Gibbs went to the wreck of the
ill-fated Ann Alexander, for the purpose of trying to procure some-
thing; but, as the sea was rough, and the attempt considered
dangerous, he abandoned the project. The Nantucket then set sail
for Paita, where she arrived on the I5th of September, and where she
landed Captain Deblois and his men. Captain Deblois was kindly
received and hospitably entertained at Paita by Captain Bathurst, an
English gentleman residing there, and subsequently took passage on
-board the schooner Providence, for Panama.
." 2


I .




-"SB~iBwa -.


A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF.

6 HE great gray wolf is a terror to man and beast in the lovely
eJ_ forest regions of-Northern Europe, and many exciting stories
are told of their bold attacks upon the dwellers in the villages border-
ing on these forests. A thrilling adventure with one of these savage
beasts is related as occurring a few years ago on the borders of a
large forest in Russia. In a little out-lying village, a mere collection
of rough log huts, there lived a fair young girl, the only child of her
parents, and the affianced bride of a peasant named Ivan, a man of
Great strength and courage, and renowned as a hunter of the savage
gray wolf. One evening, shortly before the wedding was to have
taken place, the pretty Alesca, whose home was on the very edge of
the forest, had stepped out to visit a female neighbor and exhibit
some of her-bridal finery. Alas! she never returned.
Beneath the fitful glimmer of the rising moon, a hasty search was
made by her alarmed friends, only to reveal the terrible fact that she
had been seized by a wolf, a few remnants of blood-stained clothing
being all that was left to witness to the tragedy which had taken
place. Immediately on the sad intelligence becoming known, six
men headed by Ivan, whose bearded face was convulsed with fury, set
off on the track of the destroyer, resolved on immediate vengeance.
They had but one gun among them, the rest of the men being armed
with clubs, hatchets, and short hunting knives. Tramp, tramp,
through the silent forest they went, under the full splendor of the
winter moonlight. On, on, for miles, without sight or sound of
the lurking enemy, the men conversing together in under-tones, all
save Ivan, who held a little aloof, too much absorbed by grief to be
able to respond or even to listen to the kindly, though rough, sympa-


















































































































4 TIMELY SHOT."


I-"i~m














thy of his neighbors. At length the moon became obscured, and thf
hunters had to proceed with greater catition; but this did not last
long. Again the moon shone out, again the branches of the leafless
forest were bathed in silvery light, and the men began once more to
quicken their steps. But where was Ivan? His companions, from
respect to his grief, had suffered him to fall a few paces behind, and
*ow he was gone! Dismay was on every face, for they knew, only
too well, the terrible risks of going astray in the forest in winter
time. Suddenly they heard a cry-a shrill, agonized, yet choking yell
-the cry of a man in some awful need; the next moment all were rush-
ing in the direction of the sound. Speedily they found Ivan grap-
pling with a great gray monster, whose yellow, murderous eyes were
glowing in the darkness, and his terrible teeth tearing at Ivan's sheep-
skin. The poor man had lingered too far behind his friends; he had
not heard the rustle of that stealthy tread, as the savage animal cun.
singly followed his straying footsteps. At length, with a snarl it had
shot out from the dark thicket and fallen upon him; then Ivan, in his
agony, had uttered that cry which broughthis friends to his aid-and
not a moment too soon. Ivan was completely exhausted; everything
was swimming before his eyes; a rushing, roaring sound was in his
ears, and he was just falling to the ground, when a fatal bullet was
buried in the monster's side, and his skull was shattered by blows
from more than one hatchet.
Ivan, though insensible when picked up, was scarcely even
wounded, his thick sheepskin cloak having saved him from the ter-
rible fangs of his adversary perhaps the very monster that had
robbed him of his promised bride.

SWHETHER a boy is from country or city, rich or poor, weak o-
strong, talented or not, will and work are sure to win. Wishes fail,
but wills prevail. Labor is luck. WILBUR F. CRAFTS.










ADAM'S PEAK.


HERE is a celebrated moun-
tain in Ceylon, round which
gather many Eastern legends,
and which is held sacred by
the islanders.
On its top is the imprint of a large
footstep, where Mohammedan tradition
says Adam stood on one foot in peni-
tence for 1,000 years, and this is ven-
erated by the pilgrims who, for hundreds
of years, have flocked annually to wor-
ship on the mount.
The precious stones and gems occa-
sionally found in its rocks, they say,
are the tears of the first created man,
and it is called "Adam's Peak,' be-
cause it is, according to Eastern belief,
the place of Adam's repentance after
the fall.
On the summit, which is nearly 8,000
feet above the sea, there is a temple
built, and to this pilgrims used to go,
year after year, to do homage to Adam's
footprint. Those Europeans who have
climbed the- mountain describe the view
from its topmost point as being one of
the grandest in the world. Looking
down its precipitous sides, streams and
waterfalls glisten with silver threads,
while the mountain peaks stand up
sharp and well-defined out of the clouds,
and seem as if they were suspended in
mid-air, with the fleecy clouds and
mists floating by 2,000 feet below. The
heathen, ignorant of God Himself, yet
worship and venerate His work in the
beauties of nature. To those who know
God, the ascent of Adam's Peak only
brings to them a deeper reverence of
Him. and reminds them of the Psalm-
ist's words: "The heavens declare the
glory of God, and the firmament shew-
1th His handy-work." t.


DUTIES are ours, events God's. This
removes an infinite burden from the
shoulders of a miserable, tempted, dy
ing creature; on this consideration hP
can securely lay down his head and
close his eyes.

INJUSTICE is very hard to bear. Yetwe
must all learn to expect it, and to suffer
it as calmly as we can. To have our
best deeds turned and twisted into evil
ones; to have our acts and words utterly
misrepresented; to have those turn cold
to us for whom we have always felt the
warmest friendship, is only the fate of
humanity.

EXAGGERATION.-The habit of exag.
geration is one which rapidly grows into
untruth, if encouraged. Never "color"
a story for the sake of a foolish jest, or to
excite the laughter of a few companions
at the expense of a friend. Be anxious
when you relate anything to tell it just
as it occurred. Never vary in the least
degree.

MUTUAL SYMPATHY.-We should
make it a principle to extend the-hand
of friendship to every man who dis-
charges faithfully his duties, and main
tains good order, who manifests a deep
interest in the welfare of society, whose
deportment is uplri'lit, whose mind is
intelligent, without stopping to ascer-
tain whether he swings a hammer or
draws a thread. There is nothing so
distant from all natural claims as the
reluctant recognition, the backward
sympathy, the forced smile, the checked
conversation, the hesitating compliance.
which the well off are apt to manifest
to those a little lower down.










MUSICAL WONDERS.


"TERE was once two brothers of
the name of Monk, and they weie or-
phans; but they had an uncle of the
same name, who was very kind to
them, and brought them up as if he
had been their father. Unfortunately
'they were passionately fond of music,
while hee hated it. He was a very
good sort of man, but the mere sound
of a flute or violin was sufficient to


throw him into the most violent fit of
passion. His ungrateful nephews, as
they, grew older, took advantage of
this peculiarity, to tease the poor old
man. They went and pretended to
start a Society for the Suppression
of Organ-grinders and other Itinerant
Musicians," and were always coming
t him for subscriptions. These he


liberally gave, for he was a generous
old fellow, except to musical people,
whom he detested. But now mark
the depths of human baseness! What
did these two nephews of his do with
the money they got out of him? Why,
they went and bought musical instru-
ments with it, and played at night
under his window; or paid other fel-
lows to grind organs outside his house


all day. At last he found them out;
and then, though he still supported
them in the most liberal manner, he
positively refused to contribute any
longer to the Society. Nobody could
blame him. He had fondly hoped
that this Association would put a stop
to street music, but he found there
was more of it than ever, and that his




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