Front Cover
 Among the Polly-dancers
 A fable for boys
 The story of Robin Hood
 Mr. and Mrs. Chipping Bird's new...
 The Tinkham brothers' tide-mil...
 Signs of May
 A Kansas nursery
 Peggy's trial
 Stories of art and artists - Twelfth...
 Dinner-time at the zoological...
 Mike and I
 An unsatisfactory meeting
 The last of the Peterkins
 Curious items about birds
 Swept away
 A weather prophecy
 Work and play for young folk: V,...
 Curious head-dresses of women
 The big black dog and the big black...
 The vain little girl
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00129
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00129
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Among the Polly-dancers
        Page 483
        Page 484
        Page 485
    A fable for boys
        Page 486
        Page 487
        Page 488
    The story of Robin Hood
        Page 489
        Page 490
        Page 491
        Page 492
        Page 493
        Page 494
    Mr. and Mrs. Chipping Bird's new house
        Page 495
    The Tinkham brothers' tide-mill
        Page 496
        Page 497
        Page 498
        Page 499
        Page 500
        Page 501
        Page 502
    Signs of May
        Page 503
    A Kansas nursery
        Page 504
        Page 505
    Peggy's trial
        Page 506
        Page 507
        Page 508
    Stories of art and artists - Twelfth paper
        Page 509
        Page 510
        Page 511
        Page 512
        Page 513
        Page 514
        Page 515
    Dinner-time at the zoological gardens
        Page 516
    Mike and I
        Page 517
        Page 518
        Page 519
    An unsatisfactory meeting
        Page 520
    The last of the Peterkins
        Page 521
        Page 522
        Page 523
        Page 524
        Page 525
        Page 526
    Curious items about birds
        Page 527
        Page 528
        Page 529
        Page 530
        Page 531
        Page 532
        Page 533
        Page 534
    Swept away
        Page 535
        Page 536
        Page 537
        Page 538
        Page 539
        Page 540
        Page 541
        Page 542
    A weather prophecy
        Page 543
    Work and play for young folk: V, chalk talk
        Page 544
        Page 545
        Page 546
        Page 547
        Page 548
        Page 549
    Curious head-dresses of women
        Page 550
        Page 551
    The big black dog and the big black goat
        Page 552
    The vain little girl
        Page 553
        Page 554
        Page 555
    The letter-box
        Page 556
        Page 557
        Page 558
    The riddle-box
        Page 559
        Page 560
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


[See Stories of Art and Artists," page 509.]


Ycssloll, from the engraving




MAY, 1883.

[Copyright, 1883, by THE CENTURY CO.]



To children in towns, anything that suggests
the wild woods and breezy hills is oftentimes
even more than the woods and hills themselves are.
to those who live among them. From a city win-
dow, I have seen children, playing in a vacant
house-lot overrun with weeds, plucking and re-
joicing over the rough, homely things as if they
were the fairest of flowers, and, with delight that
was almost ecstasy, sorting over the faded ever-
greens thrown there from some neighboring chapel,
where they had long served as decorations.
The very word "evergreen" seems full of all
manner of woodsy sights and sounds and smells.
When a bit of a child myself- almost a baby -
I remember that one day my father called me to
the low table, which was just about on a level with
my eyes, and said:
Look at the Polly-dancers "
He had brought in a green pine-twig from the
wood-pile, had cut off half a dozen brush-like little
tufts, had trimmed their tips, and then, blowing
upon them gently, had set them dancing about the
table as if they were alive. They floated this way
and that, each taking its own direction; and when
one moved too near the edge of the table, a light
puff from his lips would send it back again. They
seemed to me like tiny green-skirted sprites having
a frolic together, and I was charmed with them
more as playmates than as playthings.
I had a large family of rag-babies of home
manufacture, featureless and limbless, which either
wore their only night-gown all day or had squares of

bright calico (their entire wardrobe) pinned about
their shoulders, shawl fashion; and for each of
these I felt a separate motherly affection. There
was also a London doll laid away in a drawer,
which I was told belonged to. me, but whose rosy
cheeks and flaxen curls I was forbidden to touch.
For this fine lady I had a great admiration, with-
out any feeling of attachment, and when she finally
fell into my hands, my ill-treatment of her soon
brought her down to the level of my humbler
But I wholly forgot rag-babies and London dolls
in my rapture over the Polly-dancers.
No matter if they had neither heads nor feet,
they could move like living creatures. The lack
of motion and life is what makes dollies, however
dear, unsatisfactory to a sensible child. All the
imagining in the world will not make them stir.
But a dolly that could flit hither and thither at a
breath, it was no matter whether she had a visible
head of her own or not, since there was one ready
to grow for her, at any moment, out of her little
admirer's brain.
When I asked, "Where did the Polly-dancers
come from?" and was answered, "From the
woods," a whole new, unexplored world rose be-
fore me.
There was a dark-blue outline against the sun-
set, across the river, and another heavier line of .
purple-green in the north, toward the sea, which
I had heard called the woods." The name had
been full of mystery to me, before; but from that




No. 7.


moment it stood for a wonder-land-the home of
the Polly-dancers How I longed for the time
when I should be old enough to go to the woods !
And when one summer day, a year or two after,
my brother asked and gained leave to take me
with him a-berrying, was not I a happy girl?
The walk was through a long street, past a
great many houses, and then over an open, un-
shaded road. But at last we were there. When
the cool, lofty greenness closed us in, and fresh
earth-smells came up from the moss and ferns
beneath our feet, I seemed to know it all as if I
had been there before. These were really the
woods of my dream !
My brother seated me on a great rock covered
with lichens, and told me not to move from the spot
until he came for me. Then he went out of sight
with his basket, whistling. I felt like crying for
loneliness when I saw him disappear, but the still-
ness around me inspired a feeling of awe that made
me afraid to utter a sound. And presently I be-
gan to feel at home in the wonderful place. There
were doft whisperings all about me, that seemed
like kind voices of unseen friendly people, rustlings
as of gossamer garments.
Nothing would have tempted me from my perch,
for I( had read of elves and gnomes and fairies,
and I firmly believed in them. They always lived
in the woods; and though I would gladly have
stepped inside a fairy-ring, just once, I would not
for worlds have done so without first feeling my
hand fast in my brother's, else I was sure I should
never see home again. But he did not believe in
fairies, and I soon forgot that I did as I listened to
the song of the Polly-dancers.
For there they were, thousands and tens of thou-
sands of them, up in those great trees, dancing
with their feet out to the sky, and making such
music together, low, sweet, and solemn! I have
never forgotten how it sounded to me that first time
I heard it. It seemed to tell me that the world was
a larger and lovelier place than I had dreamed,
and that it would always have awaiting me some-
thing grander than I could guess. Of course, I had
no words for my feelings then; I did not even know
that I was having feelings" at all. A child never
does, until long afterward. But the feelings come
back, and we remember the moments when we
began to be acquainted with the world and with
My brother and I walked home, two merry,
tired, matter-of-fact children. He had -left me
only a half-hour or so alone; and he did not con-
fide to me until we were almost home that his
basket, which seemed brimful of huckleberries, was
really crammed with fresh leaves, and that there
iwas only a thin layer of berries on the top I re-

member thinking what a remarkable boy he was to
have conceived such a clever artifice. But he had
not liked either to take me into the bushes or to
leave me long alone; and he did not wish to appear
unsuccessful in his search for berries, if he should
chance to pass other boys. He little dreamed how
much more than berries I had found in the woods
that day!
For the pine trees have been like dear friends to
me ever since. Every summer I go to visit them in
their homes on the mountain-sides, where they
best love to be, and where they are always ready to
give those who love them a hospitable welcome.
I do not know of any tree that seems so much
like a human being as a pine tree. Every one of
its myriad little needle-like leaves vibrates like a
sensitive nerve to the touch of the breeze, and its
great song is a chorus of innumerable small voices
answering each other, and carrying the anthem on
into limitless space. It distills rich gums, and sends
out spicy odors to make the air around it healthy
'and sweet, and it throws down its leaves to make a
dry bed on the damp earth, where we can rest on
hot midsummer days. There is no outdoor repose
sweeter than that we find under its shadow, look-
ing up through its boughs into twinkling breaks of
blue sky. I always feel like a little child again
when I find myself in that friendly solitude.
There are companions all about me, happy, liv-
ing creatures, and the most neighborly of these are
the squirrels. They and the Polly-dancers seem
very fond of each other. A squirrel runs out to
the very tip of a long bough over my head, and a
little gust of sound, that might be a laugh or a
sigh, steals softly down to me. Is that distant chat-
ter of the squirrels frolicking or scolding? I can
not always tell. But once I saw a pitched battle
between two chipmunks, high up in the tree-tops,
and suddenly one of them fell with a light thud on
the ground beside me, fifty feet or more below the
scene of the fight. He did not seem the least bit
hurt or discomfited, but was flashing up the next
tree in an instant, after his victorious foe.
It is wonderful how the squirrels know at once
when any one has come into the woods. Let the
intruder be ever so quiet, in a minute or two
there is an approaching "chip-chip-chip!" a
clattering down the loose bark of a tree, as of
somebody whose shoes do not fit very well, and
two small, bright eyes are staring at him inquisi-
tively from a safe distance.
Sitting perfectly still on the ground, I have eyed
a squirrel ten minutes at a time -he as still as my-
self and gazing into my eyes as steadily as I into
his. I have usually had to be the first to look
away; then he would perhaps venture a little
nearer, or possibly would take alarm at my move-




ments, and run up into his tree, quivering with
excitement. Once I caught the eye of one sitting
on a pine-scrub near me, with a nut or acorn in his
mouth, which fitted in exactly and gave it the
shape of the letter "O." He staid there a long
time quite motionless, with his tail in the air, and
his paws uplifted to his cheeks, stuffed out with
the nut, which he did not attempt to eat or to drop,
until I turned away. It was very comical, the
three interjections that his eyes and mouth made
as he watched me. I tried to talk to him in squir-
rel-language, and he seemed to listen, but not to
understand, for he gave no answer; I suppose he
was laughing inside at the ridiculous mispronunci-
ations of the intrusive foreigner. But I have had
long talks with squirrels that came down to within
a few feet of me, and told me unmistakably that
they had better command of their own vocabulary
than I, and that I had better leave their premises
at once.
Squirrels in their native haunts are sometimes
very tame. At a picnic in the woods, I have seen
one come and take away a slice of cucumber almost
from the hand of the person who laid it on the
ground for him. We hoped he did not have to
send for a squirrel-doctor, after eating the indigest-
ible morsel. And one actually jumped from a tree
down upon the shoulder of a lady who sat there
talking with a friend.
This was in the Maine woods, which, perhaps,
are no lovelier than the woods of any other State,
though they seem lovelier to me because I have
passed so many peaceful, almost perfect, days
in their shade. The ground all carpeted with
delicate linnea-vines, interwoven with trailing
arbutus and snowberry streamers, wherever the
pine-needles had not fallen too thickly to let them
through; checkerberry and bunchberry dotting
the deep verdure with scarlet drops; the note of
some belated bird now and then floating down the
hill-side; the great tree-trunks before me framing

in the river and vast green meadows, and the grand,
far-off mountain ranges tinted with azure and
purple and pearl-it takes but a thought to carry
me thither, and I journey there often through
closed doors and windows. For memory and fancy
are like the magic traveling-rug of the "Arabian
Nights," and much pleasanter conveyances than
steam-boat or railway car.
I think there is some secret league between
the Polly-dancers and the mountains. They are
always found together; and they perhaps like
each other because of their differences, as persons
sometimes do. For what is so airy, so easily
stirred, as the needle-like foliage of the pine tree ?
and what is so immovable as a mountain?
Yet the far blue summits and the gray crags and
precipices seem to speak through the pine tree.
They are dumb, but they make its wiry leaves
their harp-strings. The west wind steals down from
the peak and breathes through the pine in a mono-
tone, as if the mountain were thinking aloud, while
the stormy blast wakens there a surging music as
from vast organ-pipes. And the somber green of
the pine-groves is never so picturesque as when
contrasted with the misty tints of a hilly back-
ground. To know the pine trees well you must
live with them on the mountain-sides.
When the pine tree sings, it wakes an echo in the
heart of the smallest child who listens beneath its
boughs. What is its song?
That every little, firm, green thread, set so close
upon its branches, delights to take its part in the
grand music of creation, to breathe out the story of
life all around it, larger and stronger than itself-
life that it feels thrilling up from its hidden roots
and out of the infinite spaces of the sky. And this
song is so full of deep meaning to every human
being who aspires to live truly, it seems so full of
our own inmost longing, that we almost feel while
we listen as if the pine tree had a soul.
This I have learned among the Polly-dancers.



As SOON as a boy leaves school and looks about
to see what he shall do next, he is very likely to
be told by some unwise person, The world owes
you a living." This probably strikes him as being
avery wise remark, and the boy says to himself,
"If it is true that the world owes me a living,
then I 'm all right." He finds a place, and goes to
work manfully; but after a time he concludes that
there is no fun in it, and he stops to consider:
"If the world owes me a living, why should I
trouble myself? Let the world pay its debt
to me." Suddenly he loses his place and has
nothing to do. He is surprised, and wonders why
the world does not give him his due,. ."A nice
bed, warm clothes, and regular dinners are good
things, and I ought to have them. The world
owes them to me, and if I do not get them I 've
been cheated out of my rights."

A fable is a story that has been "made up"-
an imaginary story that is not really true. The
saying that the world owes every man a living "
sounds very deep and wise, but it is only a fable.
It is not true.
Come, boys, get your hats and walking-sticks,
and let us take a tramp and see what we can find.
We will start in the country and walk to town by
the brook, along the river-side and over the canal.
This is a pretty good road. It leads toward the
city. It is smooth and hard, and the teams we
meet roll along swiftly and easily. Yonder is a
horse dragging a cart through some plowed land.
He has a hard time of it, but as soon as he reaches
the road he will trot off merrily enough.
Here's a stone bridge over a brook. See how
nicely all the stones have been laid, one over the
other, to make the arch that spans the water. The
brook is deep and muddy, and it would not be
much fun to wade it to reach the other side. But,
having the bridge, there is no need of that.
We walk on, and presently come to another
bridge. Ah! this is the canal. It looks like a
narrow river winding through the country. There
is a path on one side for the horses, and here
and there are locks. Here's a boat coming. First
comes the horse stoutly pulling on the long rope,
and the great boat slips silently through the water
behind him. A horse is able to drag on wheels a
load which, if he walks all day, is equivalent to
moving ten tons one mile. This horse pulling the
canal-boat moves a load of five hundred and
fifteen tons the same distance in the same time.
That was certainly a good idea in some one to
make a watery road and put boats, instead of
carts, upon it, and thus make such a gain in the
work of the horse. The canal looks like a river,
but it is not. Thousands of men worked hard for
a long time to dig the ditch and fill it with water,
that the boats might travel from town to town.
Here 's a lock. Let us stop and see the boat
pass through. There are two great gates, arranged
in pairs, at each end of the lock. The lower gates
are open, and the lock is empty. At the upper
end we find that the water is much higher above
the lock than in it. The boat glides into the lock,
and the lockman closes the gates tightly behind
it. Then he turns a crank, and immediately
we hear the water rushing into the lock. How
wonderful! The great boat rises slowly till it is
level with the water above the lock. Then the






man opens the upper gates, and the boat slips
through and goes on its way. Here one man
lifted, alone, a load of over five hundred tons, and
moved the boat from one level of the canal to
another. Certainly, some one must have been a
wise man to make such an admirable contrivance.
Let us go on, for there is much more to be seen.
We walk along the road and the houses become
thicker, and there is a nice graveled sidewalk,
with rows of trees on either side. Ah! There 's
the river. Let's turn aside and look at it. The
banks are lined with stone to keep the waves from
washing the soil away, and out in the stream are
red-and-black beacons to mark the channel for
the steam-boats. There is one coming now. How
swiftly it moves along! What a very clever in-
vention it is There 's a sloop beating up stream
against wind and tide. The sail-boat finds it dif-
ficult to make a mile while the steam-boat is going
We trudge along, and presently come to a horse
railroad leading into the town. Twenty-two peo-
ple in the car, and only two horses. Two horses
in a carriage find it quite enough to drag four
people on a sandy beach or rough road, but when
the carriage runs on smooth iron rails they can
drag sixty people or more. Certainly, somebody
must have been very bright to find out this and to
put it into practice.
Here we are in the city. There 's a policeman
standing guard on the corner, to keep the thief and
pickpocket from entering our house or stealing
our purse. Here 's a fine, large school-house,
where a hundred children are getting an educa-
tion free. Next door is a free picture-gallery and
a public library, and here's a fountain in the street
where men, horses, and even dogs, can have a
drink of pure water at any time. Not far away is
an engine-house, and we may stop at,the door
and look in at the beautiful and intelligent horses,
trained to put themselves into place before the
engine the instant the bell rings. What a fine

How finely the streets are laid out, paved, and
lighted with gas, and provided with signs on the
corners to point the way. If we go down-town,
we shall see great docks, with swift and beautiful
ships floating in the harbor and great steam-ships
ready to take us to any part of the world. There
are the forts, where the soldiers mount guard day
and night the year round. See that white tower
in the distance. That is the light-house to guide
strange vessels to the port. Yonder is a war-ship,
with rows of black guns looking out of its sides-
a noble sea-dog, ready to repel any invaders who
dare come to our shores bent on mischief. There
are many more things to be seen, but perhaps
this is enough. Let us take the cars and go
home. We pay a few cents, and are brought back
to the country safely, quickly, and cheaply.
Now, boys, what do you think of it? We had a
good road to walk upon, and a bridge to help us
over the brook. We saw the water-road called a
canal, and the river kept in fine order for boats.
We saw the horse railroad, the steam-boat, the
streets, the docks, the fort, and the light-house,
the gallery and school; and beside all these were
many more wonderful things we did not have time
to examine.
We read that in certain countries there are no
roads, towns, or even houses. Bears and wolves
roam through the wilderness, and the few men who
live there have a hard time to find food to eat
and skins enough to keep out the cold. Were you
carried there and left to take care of yourself, you
would soon starve. There might be fish in the
water, and grapes on the vines, and birds among
the trees. But would the fish come up to be
cooked and eaten, would the grapes drop into your
hand, or the birds stay to be caught? Not at all.
Nature would simply let you starve. The world
would see you faint with hunger or perishing with
cold, and not a living thing would seem to care
whether you lived or died.
Put a line in the sea and catch the fish, and he

piece of machinery is the engine-and the men, will make a hard struggle to get away. Only
too. They look like able workmen, and, no doubt, because you are stronger, only after you have killed
when the need comes, they will risk their lives him, can you eat the fish. Only by climbing the vine
with a noble courage we can not help admiring, can you get grapes, only by trapping the birds




can you eat them. This seems hard and cruel.
Why does not Nature make fried fish to come up to
the shore ? Why should not the grapes grow close
to the ground? Why do not. the broiled ducks
and boned turkeys hop down into our plates? I
do not really know why not, but it is certain they
never do.
At one time this country was a wilderness, where
no man could live, save by fighting the wild beasts.
Some one chased away the bears and wolves, cut
down the forests, laid out' roads, built towns, and
dug canals. Somebody spent vast sums of money
in constructing railroads, steam-boats, docks, light-
houses, schools, libraries, and all the fine things
you enjoy so freely. More than this, somebody
pays the policeman, the fireman, the soldier, sailor,
the light-house keeper and school-master.
From the day you were born your father and
mother have fed, clothed, and sheltered you. It
has cost you nothing. None of these great public
works, roads, canals, towns, navies, and armies cost

you anything. How can you say the world owes
you a living? Is it not you who are in debt?
What has a boy done to deserve all this? Not a
thing. It is you who must pay-not the world.
Ah! boys, he was a foolish creature who first
said, "The world owes me a living." He told a
very silly fable. The world owes no man a living
till he has done some worthy deed, some good
work to make the world better and a fairer place to
live in. Those old fellows who dug canals and laid
out towns, who built cities and invented all these
splendid things,-these telegraphs, these ships,
these magnificent engines,-had the right idea.
They worked manfully, and the world at last did
owe them a living, and paid it many times over. If
you mean to get out of the great debt you owe the
world, do something, go to work and show you are
a man. Then, when you have shown the world
you can work, it will gladly pay you a living, and
the finer and more noble your work the greater
will be your reward.




0 ,o~



'4 ._.-., INTRODUCTION.*

Shas been called
i C, a robber; but,
S w in fact, he was
t not a robber at
all, in the true
sense of the
Sword. He was
a patriot against
whom the de-
cree of outlawry
Shad been ut-
tered by a ty-
rannical king.
r pIn the year
1265, on the
field of Eves-
ham, the patriots, who were struggling against the
tyranny of Henry III., came to grief. They were
utterly defeated and many of their noblest leaders
slain. The most notable of those who survived the
battle were outlawed and their homes and property
confiscated. Robin Hood, who, under the leadership
of De Montfort, a nobleman (Earl of Leicester), had
shown great bravery and skill as an archer, was es-
pecially hated by the tyrant, and forced, in order to


save his life or to avoid banishment from his be-
loved country, to take refuge in the vast wild forests
of Sherwood, in Nottinghamshire, where he soon
called about him a band of brave, but unfortunate
lovers of liberty, who vowed never to surrender to
the invaders of merry England. These men were
of the good, substantial middle class of English-
men, called yeomen, whose delight it was that
they were free-born and had the right to bear the
English long-bow and arrows as their arms and the
badges of liberty.
In those days life and property were not so secure
as they are now, and governments were less stable.
The wealthy men and hereditary nobles of Eng-
land fortified themselves in vast castles surrounded
with solid walls and moats filled with water, whence
they now and then went forth, with their armed
retainers, to do all manner of evil deeds. And
these enemies of the people had given their
allegiance to the invaders and conquerors of
So it may be easily seen how Robin Hood and
his compatriots were situated in their enforced exile.
They had fought for freedom, and had been de-
feated. To surrender was death or banishment for
life. They were in the wild greenwood, with their
weapons in their hands, and they resolved not to
surrender to the tyrant, whose very name was hate-
ful, and whose heart had never known mercy.
They were free men and loved England, and they

* Copyright, 1883, by Maurice Thompson.





could not bear the thought of being put to death
by a king who had gathered about him a foreign
court, and had unsparingly oppressed the yeo-
manry of his realm.
At first, Robin Hood and his men sought to live
by killing game in Sherwood forest; but the tyrant
would not allow this, rather choosing to send com-
panies of armed men to scour the wood in search
of them, with orders to take them dead or alive.
Resistance became necessary, and Robin and his
brave fellows fell upon some of these companies,
and drove them from Sherwood with the loss of
many men.
A reward was offered for Robin Hood's capture.
The rich nobles and even some of the ecclesiastics
joined the King in his oppressions, doing every-
thing in their power to bring Robin to his death.
So it came to pass that at last this brave forester
called his band together and gave the following
orders, which were adopted as the law to govern
their actions:
See that you do no harm to any husbandman
that tilleth with the plow, or to any good yeoman,
or to any knight or squire that is a good fellow;
but those that live upon the fat of the land, and
subsist by plundering the poor, you may beat and
bind them. The High Sheriff of Nottingham, too,
you may bear in mind, for he is no friend to any
of us."
This simple proclamation gives us an insight
into the situation. The yeomanry and the knights
and squires of England had mostly been on the
side of freedom in the late struggle. They and the
honest tillers of the soil sympathized with Robin
and his band. The official class, as has been said,
had always been the robbers of the poor and the
auxiliaries of the tyrant. As for the Sheriff of
Nottingham, he, no doubt, was desirous of capt-
uring Robin and his men for the sake of the
reward offered by the Government and the rich
oppressors against whom Robin had leveled his
Bearing in mind these prominent features, the
reader is ready to go into the greenwood where
this dauntless band of archers have their home, and
there witness those exploits which have rendered
the name of Robin Hood a household word in the
homes of merry England for seven centuries or
What shall interest you in all this ? Why, you
shall go where the summer breezes sing, and the
brooks ripple, and the wild birds carol in the shady
groves. You shall hear the twang of the bow-
string and the hiss of the flying arrow as the merry
woodsmen hunt the deer, the wild swan, the pheas-
ant, and other game. You shall see them catch
the trout in the sweet, cold brooks. You shall be

with Robin and his bold men in many a skirmish
with the emissaries of the King, and you shall wit-
ness their kindness to the poor and their noble
tenderness to women.
You will keep in mind, however, that the .days
of honorable outlawry are gone by-that what
was justifiable in the times of the tyranny and law-
less conquest of kings would be robbery, punish-
able with imprisonment and disgrace, in this free
and happy land of ours. And you will draw from
the story of Robin Hood a fuller knowledge of the
happiness you derive from living in an age of real
freedom, and in a land where the Government pro-
tects the people instead of joining with their ene-
mies to oppress them.


.." .- -. --' .-. -

-- HE earliest story of Robin
Hood is contained in a
S!ude ballad beginning as
S' ome, listen to me, ye gentlemen
That be of free-born blood:
S. shall tell you of a good yeoman,
lHis name was Robin Hood."

.. his ballad was written about
S_ r hundred years ago, and is
..;J 1 :ided into eight parts. The
I49f !ir ..,'Tr ,3 the ballad-singer's story
.:.f i.: oor Knight."
One fine morning, Robin Hood
stood under a tree in the depths of the forest.
He was leaning against the bole of the tree and
must have looked weak and hungry, for one of his
best men, who was called Little John, said to him:
"Master Robin, if you would eat a good, hearty
dinner, it would do you much good."
"I have no desire to eat," said Robin Hood,
"and shall not dine unless I have some stranger
for a guest who can pay for his meal."
In fact, Robin and his band had been so har-
assed of late by the sheriffs of the King, and by
bodies of men-at-arms sent to kill them, that the
outlaw felt a keen desire to avenge himself.
Well, what must we do ? said Little John,
who was a great eater, and who was growing very
hungry. "Give us our orders." And Robin an-
You and Much, the miller's son, and William
Scathelock, take a walk up to the dwarf-willow
thicket and watch the highway called Watling





street, and take the first man that comes along,
be he baron, or abbot, or knight, and bring him
here to me. I'll have dinner all ready by the time
you return."
Then the three men strung their long yew-bows,
and, bowing to Robin Hood, went to do his bidding.
They were strong men, especially Much, the mill-
er's son, who was a match for several ordinary
men. They must have shone bravely, as they
stepped along through the summer woods, for they
wore green mantles and gay hoods, and in their
broad belts their arrows gleamed brightly. Robin
watched them with pride, for they were the truest,
the bravest, and the strongest of his men.
When they had hidden themselves in the wil-
lows, or sallies, which overlooked the highway,
they began watching for some passer-by, but for a
long time saw none. At last, however, a knight,
shabbily dressed and evidently in a sad mood,
came slowly riding by, with one foot in stirrup, the
other carelessly dangling free, and with his hood
pulled low over his eyes.
Little John stepped forth from his hiding-place,
and, bowing before the knight in a very courteous
way, said:
"I am glad to meet you, Sir Knight, for my
master has been waiting dinner for you these three
hours. You will be right welcome, gentle knight,
to our feast under the greenwood tree."
The knight reined up his horse and said:
And who is your master, my good yeoman ?"
"Robin Hood," replied Little John.
"Robin Hood, the brave patriot? I have heard
much of him," said the knight. He 's a good
yeoman, and I will go to him with you, although
I was to dine at Doncaster to-day."
My master will give you better fare than any
inn-keeper at Doncaster," said Much.
That he will," said Scathelock.
As they went along through the forest toward
the tree where they had left Robin Hood, Little John
and his companions noticed that the knight was
very sad, and that the tears now and then dropped
down his cheeks. They wondered what was the
cause of his trouble, but kindly forbore to ques-
tion him.
At the tree Robin stepped forward, and, taking
off his hood, bowed before the knight and said:
"You are welcome, Sir Knight, to my green-
wood home. I have been waiting three hours to
dine with you."
"Ah, thank you, good Robin Hood said the
knight, graciously bowing and smiling sadly.
"God save you and all your men."
They gave the stranger such accommodations
as they had. He and Robin went to the brook,
and bathed their hands and faces side by side, and

dried them upon the same towel. Then they dined
together under the tree. And what a dinner it was!
There was fat venison and wine and pheasants and
river-fowl, and the ballad goes on to say:
"And there wanted never so little a bird as ever was bred on brier."

The knight ate ravenously, and when his hun-
ger was appeased, said:
"Thank you, sir; for three weeks I have not
had such a meal. I must be going now, but if I
ever have the chance I shall repay your kindness
by giving you just as good a dinner as this."
"You must pay before you go," said Robin,
who suspected that the knight might be a King's
officer in disguise.
At this the stranger looked chagrined, and said:
" I have no money." His voice trembled and his
eyes grew gloomy again, as if some deep distress
had almost worn out his spirit.
"If that is so," said Robin Hood, "you shall go
free. Upon your knightly honor, Sir Knight, how
much have you ?"
I have but ten shillings," said the poor knight,
blushing for shame at his poverty.
Robin was touched, but he wished to be sure, so
he told Little John to search the knight. Sure
enough, there were but ten shillings in his purse.
Then Robin passed around the wine, and they
drank the knight's health.
I wondered what made your clothes so thin,"
said Robin, "and now tell me--(I '11 keep the
secret)-were you made a knight by force or from
the yeomanry, or have you lived an uproarious
life and wasted your fortune in debauchery?"
I have not lived a sinful life," said the knight,
" and my ancestors have been knights for more
than two hundred years."
Then he went on to tell Robin how he had been
good to his neighbors and had had a living of four
hundred pounds a year, and how he had lost his
wealth through his son's misfortune in a tourney
where he had killed a knight and a squire. To
save his son from the consequences, his goods had
been sold and all his land mortgaged to the Abbot
of St. Mary's Abbey.
And when must you repay the Abbot in order
to save your estate ? said Robin Hood.
A few days are left me yet, but I shall not be
able to get the money," was the sorrowful reply.
" My poor wife and children must suffer."
"How much do you owe the Abbot?" Robin
Four hundred pounds," replied the knight.
And what will become of you if you lose your
land ? "
I shall sail away to Palestine," said the knight,
" to the land where Christ lived and died on Cal-


vary. My fate is hard. Farewell. I shall never
be able to repay you. You have been very kind
to me." He was shedding tears as he spoke, and
he turned to leave them, his head bowed and his
face deeply lined with trouble.
Robin Hood's three sturdy men stood by and
wept at this.
"What friends have you who will become your
surety if I lend you the four hundred pounds ?"
Robin asked.
Heaven is my only friend," replied the knight.
Since my poverty has come upon me all men
have deserted me."
But you offer no security," insisted Robin.
"I have none to offer," answered the knight-
except my knightly honor."
Robin Hood was wise. He knew human nature.
I will lend you the money," he said, quickly.
So he sent Little John to his hidden treasury to
fetch the money. Not only this, at Little John's
suggestion, the knight was given three yards of
every color of cloth contained in the outlaw's rich
store. Much grumbled at Little John's free meas-
urements, seeing that he used a six-foot bow for a
yard-stick, and gave three feet over at each length;
but Scathelock laughed and said, Little John
can afford liberal measure, as the cloth did not
cost him much !"
Master Robin, you must give the knight a
horse to pack all these goods upon," said Little
John, eying the enormous pile of green and scar-
let and gold and blue cloth.
And a palfrey," said Much.
"And a pair of boots," added Scathelock.
"And these gilt spurs," cried Little John.
The knight stood silent, much moved by this
great generosity.
Now, when shall you expect me to pay back
this money ?" he asked, as he prepared to depart.
On this day, a year hence, under this green-
wood tree," replied Robin.
Then the knight bade them good-bye, and was
about to go, when Robin spoke up and said:
It would be a shame for so fair a knight to
ride through the land with no squire, or yeoman,
or page to walk by his side. I will lend you Lit-
tle John to be your servant, and to stand in the
stead of a yeoman, if you need one."
And then the knight rode gladly away, with
Little John by his side, while the birds sang in the
green trees, and the sweet breeze whispered, and
the brooks bubbled, and the deer bounded across
the grassy glades.
"Now," said the knight to Little John, I must
be in York to-morrow, at the Abbey of St. Mary,
so as to pay the Abbot this money, or I may lose
my estates forever."

He was thinking how happy his wife and chil-
dren would be when their home could again be
called their own. He smiled so happily that it
made Little John glad and proud of the part he
had taken in befriending him.
When they reached the great highway which
led to York, they followed it, meeting on the way,
no doubt, many noble knights, clad in shining
steel armor, and many lords and ladies and eccle-
The knight reached the Abbey just as the Abbot
was considering what was to be done about the
pledged estates.
He was rather surprised at seeing the four hun-
dred pounds counted out, and it was not with much
pleasure that he surrendered the knight's lands,
free of all encumbrance.
But it was a happy day for the good knight,
and a proud one for Little John. The two left the
Abbey and went to the knight's home, where the
latter's wife was sorrowfully waiting for him. They
made her joyful with the news they bore, and she
blessed the name of Robin Hood, and wished him
and his noble men long life and great success.
The knight and Little John sang merry songs.
The whole world looked bright to them, as it
always does to those who receive great benefits
and to those who do noble deeds.



i \ LITTLEE JOHN was to
S remain in the em-
ploy of the knight
S for one year, at
'the end of which
he was to return
to the greenwood
and report to
I( Robin Hood.
The knight had
no sooner secured
his estates from
the greed of the
Abbot than he began making every effort to get
the four hundred pounds necessary to meet his
promise to Robin Hood when the year should
Days passed on, and Little John found his new
master a kind and generous one, who allowed him
to enjoy himself in any way he chose. One day
the Sheriff of Nottingham was standing in a field,
near some marks at which a number of archers
were shooting. Little John joined in the game,





and hit the center of the mark every time he shot.
The Sheriff, who was anxious to get into his serv-
ice archers who could equal Robin Hood and
his men, at once offered him twenty marks for a
year's service. This offer the knight permitted
Little John to accept.
The reader must remember that Robin Hood
and all his band were at war with the King, and

that the Sheriff '2
was the King's ...
representative. It -- I ,-
is said, and usu- *S' '
ally acted upon, i,'
that any strategy
is fair in war. Lit- .."
tle John, in going
into the Sheriff's
employ, gave his name as Reynold Greenleaf, and
did not hint that he had ever been with Robin
Hood. The Sheriff gave him a fine horse to ride,
and showed him marked favor. But Little John
remembered well the many noble and patriotic
fellows this Sheriff had caused to be slain or ban-
ished, and he was only watching for a chance to
punish him, and relieve the people from his op-
pression. This chance soon offered. Little John
formed a plot with the Sheriff's cook, by which it
was arranged to carry away to Robin Hood all the
Sheriff's money and silver plate. The plot was
successful. The cook and Little John got safely
into the greenwood with three hundred pounds in
money and a large amount of plate. They were
gladly welcomed by Robin and his men, and the
cook was taken into the company.
When this was accomplished, Little John ran

five miles to join his master, the Sheriff, who was
hunting deer in a wood.
Master he cried, when he found the Sheriff,
" I have been deep in the forest, and I have seen
a glorious sight-the fairest sight these eyes ever
saw. I have seen a fine hart, and with him no less
than sevenscore deer He is of a green color,
and his antlers have full sixty points."
This declaration,
together with Little
S '.John's breathless and
St : k excited condition,
Aroused the Sheriff's
'0 ,curiosity.
!''''-'. I should be glad
I to see such a sight
i .as that," he said.
'. 't "Come with me,
1 then," cried Little
John earnestly," and
1 I '11 show you the
green hart and all
S l''''' the deer. They are
S ~ .'' .. but five miles away."
The Sheriff bade
Little John lead on,
S and, forthwith leav-
,' .. ing his comrades of
the chase, he followed
.- ,. _-- the wily outlaw di-
rectly to Robin Hood,
S' who, with a green
S mantle on his shoul-
', ders, stood by the oak
called the "Green-
tal Tree," which was
the spot where he and
his band usually met.
"Here is the fine green hart-the master of
the herd," cried Little John, pointing at Robin.
The Sheriff turned pale and began to tremble.
He knew he was trapped by Little John, and ex-
pected nothing but death at the hands of Robin
Hood, whom he had so long and so shamefully
persecuted. But, to his surprise, he was asked to
dine, and was courteously treated. All that Robin
Hood required of him was to sleep one night on
the ground wrapped in nothing but a thin green
mantle, so that he might know how the hardy
patriots were accustomed to fare. Then, on the
morrow, Robin administered an oath to the Sheriff
that he would never molest any of the band, and
that he would help whomever of them should need
assistance. The Sheriff took this oath solemnly on
Robin's sword, as was the form among the outlaws,
and was allowed to return to Nottingham.

*A mark is thirteen shillings and four-pence-or about three dollars and twenty cents.


The outlaws were now very happy, thinking they
could henceforth live in the greenwood without fear
of persecution from the Sheriff. The year rolled
around, the merriest year they had ever seen.
They met in the glades, and held shooting tourneys
with their bows and arrows. Robin Hood himself
joined in their sports, and was always the best
archer among them.
But when the day came for the knight to re-
pay Robin's money, the chief looked in vain for
any sign of his approach. Dinner was delayed,
for Robin wished to have the knight at table with
him. Little John got very hungry, and kept in-
sisting on proceeding with the meal.
"I fear greatly," said Robin, "that the knight
has failed me, for he is not come, and my pay is
not sent to me."
"Never doubt," said Little John; "the sun is
not yet down by three hours, and the money is not
due till then. I know the gentle knight will not
break his word."
Then Robin said to Little John and Much and
Take your bows, and go to the sallies and Wat-
ling street, and bring me the first stranger that you
see, and if he shall chance to be a messenger, or a
minstrel, or a poor man, he shall partake of my
And they went, and after a time returned with
a fat fellow, whom they had captured along with
his pack-horses and two attendants. This man
proved to be the high cellarer of Saint Mary's
Abbey, to which the poor knight's land had been
"And so you belong to that Abbey, do you?"
said Robin, and then he ordered Little John to
search the fellow's coffer, a thing which Little
John was glad to do, for he knew how hard this
same high cellarer had tried to defraud the poor
knight, and how he had oppressed all the good
yeomen of the county.
There proved to be more than eight hundred
pounds in his coffer. In fact, when captured he
was on his way as a messenger to a council of the
King's advisers, and was commissioned to urge the

confiscation of the poor knight's property, and to plot
the destruction of Robin Hood and his merry men.
So our hero simply turned the tables, so to speak.
Now, go to your masters," said Robin, as the
man was leaving, "and tell them I shall be glad
to have one of their cellarers to dine with me every
With a light coffer and a heavy heart the fellow
went his way from the greenwood tree.
The sun was now nearly down, but its bright
rays were still flashing on the tops of the tallest
trees when the poor knight was seen approaching.
He dismounted, and taking off his helmet bowed
low before Robin Hood.
"May heaven bless you and your brave men,
good Robin Hood," he said, in a tone of great
Welcome, very welcome, gentle knight," cried
Robin; "but what has kept you so long ?"
"I stopped at a wrestling match, as I came
along," said the knight, and I saw a poor yeo-
man, who had no friends present, being set upon
and badly treated, so I stopped to assist him."
"You did I thank you, Sir Knight, for that
deed. I shall always be the friend of him who
helps a good yeoman at need," said Robin, his
face beaming with pleasure. And when the
knight tendered the four hundred pounds that he
had borrowed, Robin would not take the money.
"Keep it yourself, gentle knight," he ex-
claimed. "Fortune has already paid me my
money. She sent it to me by the high cellarer
of Saint Mary's Abbey."
Then, at a signal from the knight, a hundred
men dressed in white and red came forward, and
offered Robin Hood a hundred new bows and a
hundred sheaves of arrows, in token of the knight's
gratitude for the kindness of the outlaw chief and
his comrades.
Robin Hood was overjoyed, and for many days
after the knight's departure he and his merry
men sang gaily wherever they went. Their hearts
were light, and they felt secure since the Sheriff
of Nottingham had taken an oath to help them at
need, and to never again molest them in any way.

(To be continued.)





BY H. H.

Came from the South to-day;
And this is what I saw them do,
And almost heard them say:

Their last year's house stood empty still-
'T was in Crab Apple Row,
On Grape Vine corner, where the grapes
In autumn sweetest grow.

The house was only one year old-
Last spring they built it new;
But snow and rain all winter long
Had drenched it through and through.

And winds had rocked it back and forth,
And torn it on one side;
'T was but a shabby little house
It can not be denied.
Still, if 't were patched, as birds know how,
It might do one more year;
And Mr. Chipping Bird, I think,
Believed that this was clear.
Eying it round, and round, and round,
He hopped about the tree,
And chatted gayly to his wife,
As pleased as he could be.
"A little here and there," he said,
'T will be as good as new!

Upon my word, my dear, I think
That we can make it do !"
"Humph !" said the wife (at least she looked
As if that were the word)-
"I think you must have lost your head,
Dear Mr. Chipping Bird!
" To patch up such a shell as that
Is worse than building new.
I doubt if we could mend it so
'T would last the summer through!"
" My dear, you 're wrong. 'T is not so bad--
'T is all your silly pride !

'T will answer! Mr. Chipping Bird
In shriller accents cried.
" Ha! Will it?" chirped the little wife,
And at the tree she flew,
And in a jiffy, with her feet,
She tore the house in two!
" Now let 's see you mend that," she said,
Smart Mr. Chipping Bird!"
And then she cocked her eye at him
And never spoke nor stirred.
Wise Mr. Chipping Bird, he laughed;
What better could be done?
And off they flew, and in an hour
The new house was begun !

ul~.4, i Y~? ~ it:1~




No doubt Tilly Loring hoped Rush would fol-
low her into the tree, and, by some soothing ex-
planation, atone for the shock he had given her.
That is what almost any other girl in her place
would have wished and would have had a right to
expect, if what he had said was only an ill-timed
But he merely called after her, Letty will
tell you all about it! and walked into the mill,
looking terribly offended, Tilly thought.
"What have I done?" she said to herself.
"They will never forgive me I know now why
Letty nudged me at the table-she wanted to stop
my tongue. I never was in such a scrape in all
my life! To think how I talked to them-I,
their guest !"
She heard footsteps coming along the bank,
and, looking up, saw, Letty bringing hats and
"0 Letty!" she implored, "say it is n't so! "
"Why, Tilly!" began Letty, guessing what
Rush had been telling her.
This is n't the dam the Dempford people are
excited over, is it ? Say it is a mistake "
"I wish I could," said Letty. "For you've no
idea how we all feel about it. All but Mother.
She does n't know of it yet."
Oh! oh! oh! said Tilly. How I did talk
to your brothers How they must all hate me "
"No, indeed !" Letty threw a hat over her
friend's agitated curls. Of course, you did n't
"Understand? Why, I know no more of the
rights of the case than the Queen of China-if
there is a Queen of China! Your brothers could
n't have built the factory; they have n't been here
long enough. It looks as old as they are i"
It is, almost. So is the dam. It has been
where it is for years. And nobody ever thought
of making a fuss about it till lately. It has a
right to be there; and it would ruin the boys-it
would ruin us all-itwould be the cause of Moth-
er's losing every dollar of the money which she
has put in the place-if the dam should be taken
"Why, Letty !"Tilly exclaimed, indignantly.
The Dempford folks know nothing of this."

"Certainly they don't Or they don't want to
know. The prejudice against the dam, and against
the boys on account of it, is just frightful! "
"But is there no way of letting the boats
To be sure there is. The new Commodore's
new yacht went through yesterday. There are
two boards, next to the platform by the mill; can
you see? They pull up, and make an opening
wide enough for the widest boats. And Lute has
offered to build a regular lock, though there would
be a great deal of work in it."
I should think that ought to satisfy them."
"So we think," said Letty. "But, no! they
must have the whole width of the river, no matter
who suffers from the loss of the water-power."
I had no idea they could be so unreasonable
as that !"
Why, they act like fiends A few nights ago
some of them came-when everybody in the
house was asleep, of course-and, not satisfied
with injuring the dam all they could, broke the
water-wheel of the mill, and did a great deal' of
How mean how cowardly! exclaimed the
sympathetic Tilly. "How little we know of a story
when we have heard only one side "
You thought the mill-owners were monsters,"
laughed Letty. "As obstinate as they were mean;
was that the phrase? "
"Don't speak of it!" Tilly threw her hands up
to her face. "I never was so ashamed of any-
thing I can never look them in the face again."
"Don't feel so about it; they will take it as a
good joke, that 's all. O Tilly! I believe there
never were such brothers as these of mine. They
are so good to me and Mother! and I know, I
know they would never do wrong, even to an
Tears sprang to Letty's eyes, while Tilly ex-
claimed fervently:
I am sure they would n't! "
"But see how they are hated-just because
they have rights and interests that are in the way
of those selfish Argonauts !"
While they were talking, a man in a blue coat
and a cap, with a metallic badge on his breast,
came strolling up the Dempford side of the river.
He crossed the bridge above, and walking up the
road met a man in a gray coat and a hat, coming
from the direction of Tammoset village. The

* Copyright, 1882, by J. T. Trowbridge. All rights reserved.







man in gray, it should be said, also had a metallic
badge on his breast.
Now when the Dempford man in blue met the
Tammoset man in gray, they exchanged smiles
and looked at their watches, much as if they had
come to that particular spot by appointment; then
turned together into the by-road leading to the mill.
There comes the man we saw on the other side
o f Ol' nic it a:." ; -..l L ,:i_- "" ._. ..il.-t [ L', ,i]|
h rim L IAu,: r ri-. I..:1 i
h o'p ,- i r I: r,'r ii,., t ,- .d.l 1.,1,:, ,- 'l.,i.: r "

tirri d 0h-r I d._ l ti : I dt 'rl. i I- 1,I

pott.:,,,::i [ y

M ,r-. L..-r.. iic,i: i.. I* :h.: I t on-" .
h.: i

S L ark i _.. ,i'i.. i i-. L .i' i i l-i '.. '
a nd -_t ..i.,:l r [!I-.. .-. l ,.,t" r.l.1, |_.!I.| -t|,

If you will be so kind," said the Tammoset
man in gray.
Each at the same moment extended his docu-
ment toward the astonished Letty with one hand,
and touched hat or cap with the other.
She advanced along the plank to the turf, and
received the two envelopes, one in each hand.

.r^ -

"I have a document for her," said the Dempford
man in blue.
"A document for her," repeated the Tammoset
man in gray.
Each at the same time drew from his breast-
pocket an official-looking envelope of large size.
"Please hand it to her," said the Dempford man.
VOL. X.-32.

IZ ['" I r ..... I_-... : ood
:. .- . 1 .. r .. the-
h Hi 'l' the

N' IU I h k
1; uI rh,- ]-.,,' ,,,)s et

T- i.. ...i ._ ong

brief parley; the cap and
the blue coat returning down
the Dempford side of the river, while the gray coat
and the hat took the road to Tammoset.
"What does it mean? What shall I do with
them?" said Letty, in a tremor of doubt over the
suspicious-looking envelopes. "Oh, here is Mart! "
I don't exactly fancy such things just now,"
said Mart, with a puzzled and scowling expres-


sion. I wonder what sort of dynamite, or other
explosive material, those mysterious packages
Could n't you open one ? Letty asked.
"No, my dear." Mart shook his head. "I
never could break a seal addressed to Mother.
There 's but one thing to do, happen what will.
They must be put into her own hands. Lute!"
he called, come into the house with me."
Still looking at the envelopes, he walked slowly
toward the door, quickly followed by Lute, who
was followed by Rush, who was followed in turn
by the two smaller boys.
Lute and Rush, on coming up, also examined
the envelopes. They were then returned to Letty.
They were handed to you, and I '11 let you
deliver 'emi," said Mart. Go on alone. We,'ll
be at hand if there's need of us. Keep back, you
young Tinkhams !"
Tilly, ashamed to face the brothers, remained in
the tree.
The widow, seated, with her crutch leaning
against the window-pane at her side, had just
taken up her sewing, when Letty came into the
"You 're a person of great importance all at
once, Mother! she said, with a laughing air.
" See what two men have just brought you."
Brought me?" said Mrs. Tinkham, taking the
missives. "This is strange."
She saw the words, Town of Tammoset,"
printed on one of the envelopes, along with the
town's coat-of-arms, a flag-staff with crossed
swords,- and added, with a smile:
Oh something about taxes, I suppose."
But, before breaking the seal, she looked at the
other envelope. That also bore a coat-of-arms,-
an Indian in his canoe on a river,-with the
words, "Town of Dempford."
But I don't owe any taxes in the town of
Dempford, do I ? Of course not."
With hands beginning to tremble she tore the
wrapper, and took out a large sheet of letter-
paper. The date was filled in after the printed
form, Office of the Town Clerk, Town of Demp-
ford"; then followed the written message:
MADAM : This is to notify you that the mill-dam appertaining to
your property in Tammoset, which said dam abuts upon the shore of
this Town of Dempford, and obstructs the passage of the river, has
been declared a nuisance by the authorities of this said town, and
you are hereby required to remove said dam within six days from
this date.
"Signed by the Town Clerk, by order of the Selectmen."
Instead of trembling more, the widow's hands
seemed to grow firmer as she opened the second
envelope, and with sparkling eyes and compressed
lips read the Tammoset document:

"DEAR MADAM: Complaint being made that your mill-dam on
Tammoset River, in this town, prevents the free passage of yachts
and row-boats up and down said river, which is a natural public
way, open to all, it is therefore ordered that the obstruction be at
once demolished and removed.
"Signed by the Town Clerk of the Town of Tammoset, by order
of the Selectmen."
"Where are the boys?" said the widow, in a
quick, suppressed voice, looking up from the



;' -' READING the effect of the
C -' #^ *papers upon their moth-
_' ^ I er, the brothers came
<, thronging into the room,
e' and formed an anxious
group around the wid-
ow's chair.
S "Well! here's some-
S thing pleasant! she
'.1: *2I' said, handing the papers
SI tothetwooldest. "They
've been trying to scare
you boys, and now they
I: -' think they can frighten
I ji ,'i. ,ir.u your poor old crippled
I "What is it all about?"
cried Rush. "What do
you mean by their trying to scare us boys ? "
Why, Rocket! she said, with a bright smile.
"Do you imagine I am so stupid as not to have
known anything of your troubles all this time ? Oh,
you dear, deceitful, naughty, precious children "
And the bright eyes flashed through tears.
"Oh, Mother!" cried Letty, "have you known?"
"Yes, child; from the very first. I can hardly
tell how I found out. It was in the air, as they
say. Then I overheard Rupert whispering to
Rodman about something I was n't to know, for
fear it would make me unhappy. But you see I
have n't been so very unhappy, after all."
The tears were dashed resolutely away, and the
smile was there still.
"You have kept up, and have let us believe we
were hiding it all from you, because you thought
that would make us happier Oh, Mother!"
And Letty fell sobbing upon her neck.
There! there This is no time for crying! "
said the widow, crying with her the while, and
caressing her with fervent affection. "There!
Why, I 'm as much a baby as you are! You'll
spoil my clean collar "
"You 're the most wonderful woman in the




world !" Rush exclaimed, in a gust of feeling that
filled his voice and his eyes. "And the best "
Did you think the mother of such children
would show herself a coward?" cried the widow.
"But I let you amuse yourselves with your devices
to keep me ignorant, and all the while I was
watching you, deceiving you, loving you! What
do you say, boys, to those formidable town docu-
ments ?"
Unmanly as it may seem, those big sons of hers
had half forgotten the launched thunderbolts of
the local authorities which they held in their
hands, and were winking their moist eyes over
her surprising revelation.
"You knew Tilly Loring was talking about our
dam? said Rupert.
"Certainly I did! And the young men who
came that day to the mill, and the two girls who
came the day before-it was all about the dam,
was n't it? And don't you sleep in the mill, one
of you, every night? I was sure of it! "
"You're a w-w-witch, Mother! said Lute,
wiping his misty spectacles.
"I should n't be the mother of the Tinkham
boys if I was a fool! Come in, come in, Tilly "
called the widow, seeing the visitor's face pass the
open door. "There are to be no more secrets.
You and I have known only a part of the truth;
now we are to know all."
I've told her," said Letty.
Then I am the only one kept in the dark!
Well! I forgive you, because I know you only
meant to spare me. What are you afraid of,
Tilly? My boys are not the hard-hearted wretches
they are thought to be over in Dempford."
I never was so ashamed of anything in all my
life!" said the remorseful Tilly, coming reluctantly
into the room.
"You need n't be; it 's a part of the fun,"
laughed Rush.
Hardly re-assured by the cordial pleasantry with
which she was received, Tilly sat down quietly in a
corner, and heard a history of the troubles, as the
boys told it to their mother.
Dushee's duplicity, Buzrow and his crow-bar,
the work of the night marauders, the interview with
the Argonauts' committee, and, lastly, the missives
of the town officers-everythingwas discussed; and
poor Tilly, in listening, burned anew with anger
and shame at what she had heard in Dempford,
and with sympathy for this noble mother and these
brave boys.
"I want to go right back to Dempford," she
spoke up earnestly, "and tell my friends there what
I now know."
"It would n't be of any use," said Rush. You
could'ai't do more than Lew Bartland could.

Both towns have gone mad, I believe! Look at
these papers "
It seems to be a pretty good day for t-t-town
clerks and selectmen," said Lute. "Brave in 'em,
is n't it, to join in making w-w-war on a woman "
I suppose they addressed Mother, because
the property is in her name," said Rush. "But
look at the meanness of it Do we live in a free
country? or under a tyranny, in an age of persecu-
tion? Who is going to obey their royal edicts,
anyhow ? "
"Mother, of course said Rupert. She's
going out there on her crutches, with shovel and
tongs, to tear the dam away, because some old
fools say she must, I fancy "
"Or she can tell you and me to do it, Rupe,"
said Rodman. "'And we will-when we get
Snap your fingers at the Dempford and Tam-
moset selectmen. I would !" Rupe rejoined.
Snapping our fingers is all very fine," said the
widow, once more reaching out her hand for the
papers. But let 's see first what ground we have
to stand on while we snap. This action of the
two towns makes the matter look serious. What
right have they to order the dam away? "
"About as much, I imagine," said Mart, handing
the papers, which he had been studying in silence,
" as they would have to order us to take our house
away because it cuts off somebody's view. That
is, if our dam has a right to be where it is. That's
the main question."
If the Argonauts have no right to meddle with
it, then all the towns in the c-c-county have no
right," said Lute. They are just trying to
b-b-bluff us; that 's all."
You have n't been much frightened yet, boys;
and I glory in your spirit. But I 'm afraid there's
no shirking the fact that we have got into a terrible
situation here by buying out Dushee. We have
everything at stake; and in maintaining our rights,
we must know just what our rights are. One of you
must go to town at once and see your uncle's
lawyer, who looked up the title for you."
All concurred in the wisdom of this step. The
mother thought Martin should attend to a matter
of so much importance. But he said:
It stands us in hand to keep as strong a force
as possible here at the dam, about these times.
Rocket is quick with a bean-pole; but I suppose I
could do more effective work, in case of an attack.
In matters of business, though, he 's as level-headed
as any of us; and I say, let him slip into town and
talk with the lawyer."
"You 're right," said the mother; "Rocket shall
Rush shrank from so great a responsibility.



Just think," he said, "what a fix I have got
you all in, by hunting up this place and making
you buy it! Don't trust me again."
"Tut! tut!" cried the widow. "Nobody
blames you for that, and you sha'n't blame your-
self. See what train you can get, and be off."
In half an hour he was on his way to town.
Mrs. Tinkham was left alone with Letty and their
guest, and the older boys had returned to the mill.
In the interval of slack water, that afternoon,
they showed their determination to keep the dam,
and their defiance of the authorities of both towns,
by an act which astonished some Argonauts who
witnessed it, on going up the river.
Without waiting for Rocket's return with the
lawyer's latest counsel, they rebuilt the platform at
the end of the dam, and put in the required fish-
"We'll let 'em know we mean b-b-business,"
said Lute.


K .T was late that evening when
Rush returned home and
entered his mother's room
with an unusually serious
air. He found Mart talking
with her, and Lute followed

What makes you so so-
ber, Rocket?" Lute asked.
"No bad news from the
1-1-lawyer, I hope "
Rush explained. He had
found Uncle Dave in his
shop, and they had gone to-
gether to the lawyer's office.
"Then I went home to supper with Uncle; and
I have just spent an hour in Cousin Tom's sick-
room. I can't help feeling bad, for I don't expect
ever to see him alive again."
Then he had to tell all aboyt their cousin before
the business was again mentioned which made
them all so anxious.
"As to that," Rush then said, brightening, "it
is all right! I had a long talk with Mr. Keep in
Uncle's presence, and I have written down the most
important things he said."
Mrs. Tinkham nodded approvingly, as he drew
from his pocket a paper, which he unfolded.
He says, since we own one bank of the river,
and have secured by purchase a privilege on the
opposite bank, we have a right to construct and
maintain a dam which does not change the course
of the stream, nor injure anybody by setting back

the water. Of course, I told him, nobody claimed
that we do that."
Rush continued, bending toward the light on his
mother's table, and looking over his memorandum:
He says, if we have n't that right, then nobody
has a private right to dam any mill-stream in the
country. A dam, wherever placed, is liable to be
in the way of somebody; but if the fisherman or
boatman who finds it an obstacle has a right to
destroy it, where is there an unchartered dam that
would be safe ? The fact that, instead of two or
three persons, two or three hundred wish it away,
or even all the inhabitants of two towns,- that, he
says, makes no difference. If we have a right to
our mill-power against the wishes of one individ-
ual, we have a right to it against the world. Only
legislative enactments can touch it."
Lute clapped his hands gleefully.
"Let the Argonauts put that in their pipe and
smoke it," drawled Mart. Go ahead, Rocket."
"There is only one question-is this a naviga-
ble stream ? For, of course, no person has any right
to obstruct navigation."
He told us once it could n't come under the
legal definition of a navigable stream," said Mart.
" That's what I've relied on."
"You can rely on it still," replied Rush. To
make sure, I had him show me something on the
subject he quoted from Chief-justice Shaw; and I
copied it."
"Rocket, you're the joy of my heart! cried
his mother, delighted.
"In the case of Rowe versus Granite Bridge
Company, Chief-justice Shaw says: 'It is not
every small creek, in which a fishing-skiff or gun-
ning-canoe can be made to float at high water,
which is deemed navigable. But it must be navi-
gable,'" Rush went on, reading with emphasis,
"' to some fpurfose useful to trade or agriculture.'"
P-p-precisely! stammered Lute.
The business of these pleasure-boats that find
our dam a nuisance," Mart remarked, in his dryest
manner, "is trade and agriculture at a tremen-
dous rate !"
He showed me something similar in two or
three other cases," said Rush. Important deci-
sions, all to the same effect. Boys he 'added,
triumphantly, "if language means anything, and
if Chief-justice Shaw knew more law than the
Argonauts, then this is not a navigable stream,
and we have a right to dam it."
What did he say to the orders sent us by the
two towns ? Mrs. Tinkham inquired.
He laughed at 'em. He said just what Mart
said -that they might as well order us to take our
house or barn away. The fact that the dam has
been there so many years, without being seriously





objected to, makes our position all the stronger,"
Rush added, again referring to his memorandum.
"And the other question-about defending it?"
Mart asked.
You have the same right which every man has
to defend his property. You can use all the force
necessary to drive away assailants. Knocking
them on the head will be good for 'em.'"
Rush laughed as he read. He had even that
down in his memorandum.
I trust it wont come to that," drawled Mart.
"But it 's well to know just what our rights are.
'Strong reasons make strong actions,' as Father
used to say."
"And as Shakespeare said before him. Your
father was a reader of Shakespeare," said Mrs.
Tinkham. After a pause, she added: "But, oh,
boys it does seem as if there must be some way
to settle these troubles without a resort to brute
force I What did your uncle advise ? "
To keep within the law, and get along peace-
ably if we can, but to fight it out if we must."
Exactly our p-p-position all the time," said
He thinks we should try to influence public
opinion by talking with prominent men, and by
making a candid statement of our case in the
"Excellent advice," said the widow. "I am
sure the prejudice against us all arises from a
misunderstanding. We will begin with that."
"We may as well reason with the w-w-wind,"
said Lute. Though it wont do any harm to try.
If we knew how to g-g-go to work."
"I '11 think it over," his mother replied. "We
can do nothing now until Monday."
But before she slept that night the widow had
written for the two-headed local newspaper an
appeal to the public, full of plain facts and good
sense, yet burning with the eloquence of a mother
pleading for justice to her boys.
One thing," Rush said to his brothers as they
went out together, I forgot to mention. See
here "
He picked up a small bundle, which he had
dropped by the doorstep on returning home.
What in time is it ?" said Mart.
It's the lasso Cousin Tom brought home from
Texas two years ago, and which he tried to teach
us how to throw, you remember."
"The lasso! Ho, ho !" said Mart. "I do
remember; and I don't believe I 've forgotten our
practice, either."
"It's the b-b-best hint yet," said Lute. "I
wonder it had n't oc-c-ccurred to us."
"He said it might come in play," laughed


9 _9


- fi
"'^ "^ ^

- TINKHAM'S appeal to the
public having been read and
approved by the boys, it was
decided that it ought to go
into the next issue of the
Janus-faced newspaper. It
was put into Rush's hands,
and early Monday forenoon
he took it to the printing-
office in Dempford.
He found the editor in his
shirt-sleeves, setting type for
his paper with his own hands.
As that guardian of the pub-
lic interests of two towns
seemed inclined to finish his
stick before attending to other
business, Rush could not help
glancing at the "copy" he
was at work on-a strip of
manuscript, stuck up before
him on the case.
It was entitled, "A New
Yacht and an Old Nuisance."
Something for Mart's
scrap-book," Rush said to
himself. And, since it was
evidently designed for the
public eye, he ventured to
read a little of it in advance.
He had skimmed along far
enough to see that it was

extravagantly laudatory of Commodore Foote and
his yacht, and violently abusive of the dam,
" which proved a serious hinderance to that fine
new craft in its passage up the river last Friday,"
when the type-setter looked up and saw what he
was doing.
But that personage did not appear in the least
displeased; on the contrary, he smiled at Rush's
indiscretion, remarking:
Guess that '11 tickle the boys some, wont it ?"
"No doubt it will tickle a good many," replied
Rush. But there are some it wont tickle."
Who are they? inquired the editor, in some
The Tinkham boys," said Rush.
Who cares for the Tinkham boys ?" said the
editor. "They've got no friends."
They're not overrun with them," said Rush.
"If they were, I suppose we should see fewer
articles of that sort."


"Well!" exclaimed the editor, turning, and
for the first time looking the visitor full in the face.
" I thought I knew you, but I see I don't. You're
a curiosity! "
Am I, though ? said Rush, smiling.
"Yes said the editor, with good-humored
frankness. "You 're the first fellow I 've seen take
their part."
"You have n't seen me take their part," replied
Rush. Though I don't know why I should n't."
"You know them? "
"Pretty well. I ought to. I am one of them."
"Is it possible!" said the astonished local
editor. "You! I thought they were great rough
rowdies "
Am not I a great rough rowdy ? Rush asked.
"Well, I have two brothers older and larger than
I, but not a bit rougher or more rowdyish. I felt
sure that you had been misinformed in regard to
us, and for that reason I have called to see you."
Walk in here; sit down," said the local editor,
showing a door that opened into a small, littered
editorial room. I shall be glad to talk," remov-
ing some newspapers from a chair. What can I
do for you ? "
"Justice, I hope. That's all we ask."
Rush smiled to see that his presence was embar-
rassing to this disseminator of local prejudices.
Here is a brief statement of the facts in our
case," taking his mother's appeal from his pocket,
"which we should like to have you print If you
will take the trouble to read it, you will see what I
The editor looked it through with a perturbed
countenance, then appeared to be bracing himself
for an act of firmness.
"Do you expect me to put such an article as
that into my paper?" he asked, turning to Rush.
"We hoped you would. We supposed you
would wish to be fair to both sides."
"Fair- certainly! But"-the editor struck
the paper on his desk- "I could n't print an
article like that for any consideration "
"Why not?"
"Because obviously- don't you see?- it
would n't do! "
Rush persisted in wishing to know why it
would n't do.
You never had experience with a local weekly,
or you would n't need to be told," said the editor,
showing some irritation. My readers would n't
stand it, and it would make a hum about my ears
that I could n't stand."
"Then you print only what you think will
please your readers ? said Rush.
"In one sense, yes," replied the editor, frankly.
"Excuse me," said Rush. "I thought the

business of a newspaper was to lead public opin-
ion, and to correct it where it was wrong."
This was one of the phrases his mother had
armed him with, and it came in aptly here. The
editor colored deeply through his thick, sallow
"That is incidental. We publish a newspaper
mainly for the same reason that you make dolls'
"We try to make good, honest dolls' car-
riages," said Rush-" genuine in every part. We
would n't make any others."
The editor coughed, colored still more confus-
edly, glanced once more at the article, and finally
handed it back.
I should lose forty subscribers if I printed it;
and of course you can't expect me to be such a
fool. I wish to be fair to both sides, as you say;
but in this matter there is really but one side-
that of the public interest. Ninety-nine persons out
of every hundred in this community wish the dam
away, and I am not going to swamp my business
by opposing them. I don't know anything about
you and your brothers; I've nothing against you,
personally. But you're in an unfortunate position,
and you must get out of it the best way you can.
That's my candid opinion."
"Thank you !" Rush returned the paper to
his pocket, and was taking leave so quietly that
the editor followed him to the outer door, thinking
he saw a chance for a little stroke of business.
I believe your family is not represented in my
list of subscribers."
I rather think not! replied Rush, with a
You '11 find my columns full of matters of
local interest; always fresh and timely. I should
like your subscription."
"We'll think of it," said Rush, dryly, and with-
drew in the midst of the editor's explanation that
the Tammoset Times and the Demfpford Gazette
were the same paper, and they could have it,
under either name, at two dollars a year, in
"I've kept my temper, and that's about all I
have done," thought Rush, as he walked away.
The editor meanwhile returned to his case of
type, and resumed work on the "fresh and timely"
article concerning "A New Yacht and an Old
The Tinkhams made two or three more attempts
to combat the general prejudice, but succeeded
only in discovering how strong and how wide-
spread it was, and how completely men of influence
were under its control. Politicians and public
officers were, in fact, as fearful of losing place and
votes as the editor had been of losing subscribers,



1883.] SIGNS OF MAY. 503

by seeming to favor in any way the cause of the their minds that the next attack would be in the
widow and her sons. night-time, that they did not consider the risk
Then came a sudden interruption to these very great.
efforts. A dispatch was received, announcing All the family accordingly attended Tom's
the death of Cousin Tom; and the boys must funeral, except the mother, who staid at home on
attend his funeral. account of her lameness.
"IWe 'll risk the dam for an afternoon," said She afterward had reason to wish that she had
Mart, "no matter what happens." gone, too. Better have been anywhere that after-
The Argonauts had continued so very quiet, and noon, she declared, than at home without her
the brothers had got the idea so firmly fixed in boys!
(To be continued.)


BY M. M. D.

,--- MAY day and June day,
Spring and Summer weather,
Going to rain; going to clear;
/ '- \Trying both together.
Flowers are coming! No, they 're not,
Whilst the air 's so chilly;
S First it 's cold, then it 's hot-
Is n't weather silly?
S'pose the little vi'lets think
e Spring is rather funny,
t So they hide themselves away,
Even where it 's sunny.
h T" S'pose the trees must think it's time
To begin their growing.
See the little swelling buds!
See how plain they 're showing!
I S'pose they know they 're going to make
Peaches, apples, cherries.
Even vines and bushes know
SWhen to start their berries.
/ Only little girls like me
Don't know all about it:
/ May be, though, the reason is
We can do without it.
S Winter-time and Summer-time
We keep on a-growing;
So, you see, we need n't be-
Like the flowers, and like the trees,
And the birds and bumble-bees-
Always wise and knowing.




"THE baby ?" we asked, as with mop and broom
Its mother came to the ranch one day.
Oh, she 's picketed out across the way !
I dare not leave her alone in the room."

And the busy mother looked for a tub,
While we saddled our horses and rode to see
How the lonely baby fared, while we
Had stolen its mother to sweep and scrub.

For the babies we were accustomed to
Could never have kept their silk and lace
And little be-ribboned hats in place,
With only a tree for their nurse, we knew.

But this Kansas baby had no hat;
And it laughed as if it thought silk and lace
Would have been entirely out of place
On a prairie,-or, for the matter of that,





Anywhere else. It could only go
The length of the rope; but its little feet
Pattered about where the grass was sweet,
Just as it pleased; and that, you know,

Is more than the city babies do:
For, trundled under the city trees,
They are carried just where the nurses please,
Which I should n't like at all; should you?

As I thought it over, it seemed to me
That a city darling has less to hope,
" Picketed out" with invisible rope
To a somewhat less reliable tree!


\, K .11

=-I _: 'l'.




...' EGGY was out in the
orchard picking up
apples. They were
summer apples-
yellow, crisp, and so
ripe that they would
crack open just as
easy And some of
them had grown so fast and so
freshly after the late showers, that
they were full of water at the core !
Fine, juicy apples and a clear,
bright morning are enough to make
any little girl happy. No wonder
Peggy sang. And Peggy could sing
very well indeed. She had never
been taught, but that did n't seem
to make any difference. She be-
gan to sing even before she could
talk-a sort of pleasant little hum-
ming, that would make her grand-
ma say, "She will make a cheerful
woman! "
But Peggy was getting to be quite
a young lady; and, on the morning
when our story opens, she was sing-
ing gaily a pretty little song she
had learned at school. The hap-
pier she became the louder she sang;
and her voice rang out through the
sunny orchard until the shadows
of the leaves on the grass actually
seemed to dance about with pleasure, and chase
each other, first this way and then that, some-
times hitting a golden apple, sometimes darken-
ing the rose in a clover-head, sometimes making
a little mask on Peggy's upturned face, almost
as if they would like to kiss her white fore-
head. I suppose it was the breeze sweeping softly
among the branches that made the shadows dance
so, but it seemed as if they danced to Peggy's
singing. She had nearly filled her basket,. and
was about to pick up the last tempting-looking
globe, when she saw something sparkle very
brilliantly in the grass. Stooping quickly, but
not ceasing in her song, she picked up the shining
thing, and looking at it in amazement, became
dumb with surprise. It was a lovely diamond ring!
Peggy counted the sparkling stones. One, two,
three, eight glowing, bewitching bits of color and
shine, reflecting the trees and the sky, the apples

and the clover. She could see every shade of the
rainbow in the precious jewel, and she was almost
wild with delight. She slipped it on her fingers,
looking at it first in this way, and then in that.
She could hardly take her eyes from it. Well,"
said she, "I am so glad! Just then, "Peggy!
Peggy came pleasantly from the house. "I must
go," said she to herself. Grandma is calling.
What will she say to this? Why, she will say it is
not mine, and that I must not keep it; I know she
will! But it is mine. I found it in our orchard,
and I know it is mine. I will keep it. I never
had so lovely a thing before, and I mean to keep
it." Peggy said this to herself out loud, and shook
her head hard. Then she put the ring in her little
pocket, and, picking up the basket, started for
the house. "I will not tell her yet," said she to
herself. "I will think it over."
When she got to the great, breezy kitchen, her
dear grandma was "up to her ears in flour"-as
she herself would have expressed it-making pies.
"Oh!" said she, with a cheery laugh, when
Peggy came in, tugging the heavy basket along in
both hands, my little 'help' has arrived. I am
going to make a turn-over for my 'help.' But,
Peggy, what is the matter? What has happened?
Are you unhappy, dear ? "
No, ma'am," said Peggy, rather sullenly, I'm
not.", And then she blushed. She thought to
herself: "I wonder if it shows right in my face,
that Grandma can see something has happened?
I don't believe I am very happy, either. I don't
feel so glad as I did."
On the first opportunity she ran upstairs and
hid the ring in her own little chest. It had a till
in it-just the cunningest place to hide any little
object! When she tucked it away, she again
almost kissed the beautiful stones-they were so
like icicles and sunsets, and everything pretty and
fairy-like she had ever dreamed of.
She was eleven years old, and had been quite a
reader. She knew that diamonds were very valu-
able, and had even read in her "Child's Philosophy
of Little Things" of what they were composed, and
how difficult it was to obtain them. "I have a
fortune of my own now," she said to herself, as
she shut down the cover of her chest and turned
the key. I am a rich lady; and if I ever want
to sell my beautiful ring I can buy ever so many
things with it-books, and pretty dresses, and
even a necklace like Cora May's! Hum! I guess



if the girls knew what I have got they would not
put on so many airs over their little gold-heart
rings and coral chains. I should just like to show
my lovely diamond once "
Then she began to sing, but in the very first
line of the song she stopped. She turned a little
pale, and stood looking out of the hall window
with a strange sort of stare. Before her spread
the summer scene. The old windmill swung
its great sails about lazily. Robins and sparrows
chirped and twittered busily. The old-fashioned
garden, with its troop of herbs and flowers, its
shrubs and bushes, half clipped, half straggling,
sent up a subtle fragrance, and ever and anon the
little brook could be heard rippling over the stones
by the bridge, where she had so many times
waded and "had fun" with her little friends.
But Peggy did not notice anything of this. She
was thinking: "I don't feel like singing; but I
can't, I wont, give up my splendid ring. If I tell
of it, Grandma will tell all the neighbors, and the
owner will be found and claim it. It is not the
owner's any more. They should not have lost it.
I found it, and now it is mine. I don't care if I
can't sing. I can look at my ring whenever I
please." Upon this she began to cry as though
her heart would break, just to prove how happy
she was in doing wrong. But in a few minutes
she brushed away her tears, for she was a resolute
little girl, and went down-stairs.
"Why, Peggy, you must be sick, dear. You
have been crying, I am sure," said her loving
grandmother immediately. "Or are you un-
happy? Come to me, child, and tell me all about
it. Do I know I can help my little girl."
Grandma," said Peggy, pettishly, "I have only
a headache. I have nothing to tell." (" That
was not true," she added to herself, with the just-
ice and severity of a judge.) Peggy was no igno-
rant wrong-doer. She knew as well as you and I
do, dear reader, that she was going away from all
the pure and good things which she had ever been
taught. Just then a neighbor came in. Her name
was Mrs. Smart. She always knew all the news
of the neighborhood just as soon as it happened
-sometimes before !
"They 've had a great time up to the boardin'-
house," said she.
Now, Grandma did not like to listen to the
stories which Mrs. Smart was so apt to tell. She
knew that very often they turned out to be false,
and in any case they were gossip. Every school-
girl and school-boy knows what gossip is. When
you grow up, I hope you will not get to be like
Mrs. Smart. If you do, you will pry and peak
and ask questions, and hint around until you find
some little thing that you can twist into a story

against somebody,- (neverfor anybody, be sure of
that!) -and then you will go from house to house
to tell the evil thing you have imagined, thus doing
injury to innocent people, and meddling with mat-
ters which do not concern you.
"Yes," said Mrs. Smart, "they 've had a great
time up there. One of the fine ladies has lost her
diamond ring. It was stolen from her by a cham-
bermaid. Poor gyurl! I do pity her, if she is a
thief! There she sits a-cryin' The lady knows
it was that gyurl, for she was the last person in the
room, and the lady is sure that she left her ring on
the bureau, and when she came up to breakfast it
was gone, and the gyurl herself said nobody else
had been in the room! They 've searched her
trunks and can't find nothing but they made such
a fuss that Mr. Laird has discharged the poor
thing, and she's agoin'."
"What lady was it?" questioned Grandma, for
she was quite interested.
"'T was that Miss Dulcimer that was down here
a-tryin' to buy your chiney t' other day. She feels
very badly, too 'T was her mother's ring, and
folks say 't was worth four hundred dollars! "
Peggy trembled with excitement, but her voice
was pretty calm as she said: "Which way did she
go home from here, Grandma? Was-it while I
was at school?"
Yes; it was day before yesterday, in the after-
noon. She went up to the boarding-house through
the orchard, because it was cooler, she said."
"Well," said Mrs. Smart, "I must go, for I
want to see that guilty gyurl off. She was a-sittin'
in the kitchen cryin' as if her heart would break,
and a-tellin' how she never done no such thing;
but you never can tell! Those gyurls are so de-
ceivin'. I presume she 's got the ring somewhere
about her clothes now. At any rate, she wont
get another place very soon. I kinder pity her,
and yet it serves her right."
"Is she going away?" asked Grandma.
"Yes; in the stage,-why, I hear it now,-
good-bye. I 'm agoin' to see how she takes it when
she goes! "
Peggy sprang upstairs like a deer. She went
straight to her chest. Through the window came
the rumble of the stage, nearer and nearer. In a
minute or two it would reach the boarding-house,
and go on. Peggy looked for the key. It was not
under the mat, as usual. Where could it be?
Peggy tried to think, but her head seemed in a
whirl. What could I have done with the key?"
she sobbed. Putting her hand up to her neck, she
happened to feel a little ribbon. Oh, yes," she
sighed in relief. She had tied the key to a ribbon,
and placed it about her neck; for now that she had
a diamond ring in her chest, she would have to be



more careful, she had said to herself. But the
ribbon was tied in a hard knot, and was too strong
to break. The ominous rumble had stopped; the
stage had reached the boarding-house. What
shall I do ?" groaned Peggy, her heart beating
with fright and anxiety. Oh! I must get into
my chest." Then she saw a penknife on the table.
In an instant she had cut the ribbon and unlocked
the chest, caught up the ring, and run down-
stairs. Her grandma called, '-Where are you
going? but she dashed like a whirlwind through
the kitchen, cleared the two steps at a bound, and
went up the road like a flash. How she ran! Her
heart beat like a trip-hammer, but her ears were
wide open to catch the sound of the stage. Round
the corner, by the end of the orchard, she still kept
on; but just as she came in front of the trim
croquet-ground, she saw the stage start off from
the door.
After it she sped with all her might. The sum-
mer boarders were all collected in front of the
house. Mrs. Smart was by the road, watching the
last tears of the unfortunate maid; some fashion-
able city children, whom Peggy had always feared,
and almost disliked, because they were so "airy,"
as she called it, were right in her path; but she
went after the stage as if her life depended on it.
"Whoa!" she cried. "Stop! Whoa! Driver!
Driver! Stop!" ("Oh, dear! "-under her breath
-" I can never make him hear. I can; I will !")
"Stop!" she screamed, this time with all her little
might, and, as she had almost reached the stage,
the driver heard, and brought his horses to a
"Which is the girl? said Peggy, breathlessly,
adding, as she caught sight of the poor maid:
" Here's the ring! You must get out and go back!
You must! I found it. I'll tell them. Come!"
The girl gave a cry of joy, an'd immediately got
out of the stage.
"Yes," said she to the astonished driver, "you
must put my trunk down, for I shall not go. They
will' all see I did not steal the ring now! and, as
he complied with her order, she clasped Peggy to
her heart and said: "You dear little girl! How
good of you to run so How glad I am you found
it! I can never thank you enough."
Peggy was panting and half sobbing, but she
went with the happy maid to the house, and handed
the ring to the delighted Miss Dulcimer.

"Where did you find it, you splendid child?"
said that gushing person, who had not been kind
and just enough to make sure before she had had the
unoffending maid discharged. I want to make
you a little present, to show my gratitude. Here
are ten dollars, and I can not say how very thankful
I am to you for being so honest and good."
I was not honest at all," said Peggy, whose
flaming cheeks and excited eyes made her look
very pretty indeed. I thank you very much, but
I don't want any present. I don't deserve it.
Yes, I will take it, though," she added; and, having
taken the bill in her hand, she said to the maid, who
was standing by, a silent witness of the scene:
"You deserve it much more than I; keep it," and
with a half laugh, half sob, she put the bill into the
maid's hand, and fled out of the room and down
the lane without another word. It was not very
polite, but she really could n't stay there another
minute. She wanted to get to her dear grandma,
and be comforted and forgiven. She ran down
home almost as fast as she had come up the hill;
but this time she was not anxious or unhappy.
She noticed the sweet smell of a bed of mignonettes
in the door-yard, and heard one of her doves "co-
roo, co-roo on the roof as she went in. Grandma
met her, looking worried and troubled. "Peggy,"
said she, rather severely, how strangely you act
this morning. What is the matter with you?"
Then Peggy put her arms around her grandma's
neck, and told her everything about it-how she
had found the ring and was bound to keep it, and
felt so wicked, and then was so frightened for fear she
should not be able to save the poor, wronged girl;
and how she ran and how she made the driver hear,
and all about it from beginning to end; and even
how she could not sing as she stood by the window
that morning. But I can sing now, Grandma "
she exclaimed, and broke into a little trill as happy
and free as any bird's.
"Yes, dear," said Grandma, with a smile, "you
can sing even more happily than ever, for you have
learned to-day what a terrible thing it is to carry,
even for one moment, the sense that you are doing
wrong, and also the peace that comes from resisting
temptation and obeying the voice of conscience."
And when, next morning, Peggy went out into
the orchard to pick up some more apples, she sang
as blithely as ever, and had not a sad thought in
her mind.




- 9.A

I I,





animals, with untiring patience and uncommon

THE greatest painter among the pupils of It is easy to understand that this mother must
Rubens was Anton or Anthony Vandyck (oi- Van have rejoiced to find that Anthony had artistic
Dyck, as it is also spelled). He was born at Ant- talent, and it is probable that it was through her
werp in 1599. His father was a silk-merchant, and influence that he became a pupil under the artist
his mother was a lady of artistic tastes; though Heinrich von Balen when he was but ten years
she had twelve children, she yet found time to do old. He was still a boy, not more than seventeen,
much embroidery and tapestry work. She had a when he entered the studio of Rubens, just at the
daughter named Susannah, and it may have been time when the great master was devoting himself
on account of this child that her finest work was a to his art with his whole soul, and had a large
large piece on which the story of Susannah was number of young students under his direction.
represented. She was occupied with this before Vandyck soon became the favorite pupil of
the birth of Anthony, who was her seventh child, Rubens, and was early allowed to do such work as
and during his early years she skillfully plied her proved that the great artist even then appreciated
needle, and wrought her many-colored silks into the genius of the brilliant and attractive youth -
landscapes and skies, trees and houses, men and for such we are told that Vandyck was. Among

- ~ -' C? -s

i ~.~a

) ,-~.

:us'~ Jr..~ j~j~s


other things, Rubens intrusted to Vandyck the
labor of making drawings from his pictures, to be
used by the engravers who made prints after his
works, for which there was a great demand at this
time. It was necessary that these drawings should
be very exact, so that the engravings should be as


nearly like the original works as possible; and the s
fact thatVandyck, when still so young, was chosen ti
for this important task, proves that he must have h
been unusually skillful and correct in his drawings. I
Rubens left his studio but rarely, and when he E
did so, his pupils were in the habit of bribing his v
old servant to unlock the door of his private room, t
that they might see what the master had done. g
The story goes that, on one occasion, just at even- s
ing, when the master was riding, the scholars, as
they looked at his work, jostled each other and v
injured the picture, which was not yet dry. They n
were filled with alarm, and feared expulsion from u

he school. After a consultation, they begged
"andyck to restore the injured picture. With some
esitation he did so, and to the eyes of the pupils
was so well done that they counted on escaping
discovery. The keen eye of the master, however,
detected the work of another hand than his own;
he summoned all the pupils and de-
manded an explanation, and when he
knew all that had happened, he made
no comment. It has even been said that
: he was so well pleased that he left the
picture as Vandyck had restored it.
Some writers say that this accident hap-
pened to the face of the Virgin and the
arm of the Magdalen, in the great pict-
ure of the "Descent from the Cross,"
now in the Antwerp Cathedral; but we
are not at all certain of the truth of this
In 1618, Vandyck was admitted into
the Guild of Painters at Antwerp, a great
honor to a youth of nineteen. In 1620,
Rubens advanced him from the rank of
a pupil to that of an assistant, and in
S 1623, when Rubens made a contract to
decorate the Jesuit Church at Antwerp,
a clause was inserted which provided
that Vandyck should be employed in the
work, showing that he then had a good
reputation in his native city. It was
about 1618 when an agent of the Earl
of Arundel wrote to his employer: "Van-
dyck lives with Rubens, and his works
are beginning to be almost as much
esteemed as those of his master. He is
a young man of one-and-twenty, with a
very rich father and mother in this city,
so that it will be very difficult to per-
suade him to leave this country, espe-
cially since he sees the fortune that
Rubens is acquiring."
This hint was enough for the Earl of
Arundel, who was a great patron of the
arts, and he immediately began to make
uch offers to Vandyck as would induce him to go
o England. Rubens, on the other hand, urged
is pupil to go to Italy; but at last, in 1620, while
Rubens was absent in Paris, Vandyck went to
:ngland. Very little is known of this, his first
isit there, beyond the fact that it is recorded on
he books of the Exchequer that King James I.
ave him one hundred pounds for some special
service; and again, in 1621, the records show that
Vandyck was called His Majesty's servant," and
ias granted a pass to travel for eight months. It is
ot known, however, that he went again to England
until some years later, when Charles I. was king.




In 1622, Vandyck was invited to
the Hague by Frederick of Nassau,
Prince of Orange. While there he
painted some fine portraits, but he
was suddenly called home by the ill-
ness of his father, who died soon
after his son reached his side. The
Dominican Sisters had nursed his
father with great tenderness, and
before his death he obtained a prom-
ise from Anthony to paint a picture
for the Sisterhood. Seven years later
he fulfilled his promise, and painted
a Crucifixion, with St. Dominick and
St. Catherine near by. There was a
rock at the foot of the cross, on which
he placed this curious inscription, in
Latin: "Lest the earth should be
heavy upon the remains of his father,
Anthony van Dyck moved this rock
to the foot of the cross, and gave it
to this place." In 1785, this picture
was bought for the Academy of Ant-
werp, where it now is.
Rubens advised Vandyck to devote
himself especially to portrait-paint-
ing, and it has been said that he did
this because he was jealous of the
great talent of his pupil. But time
has proved that it was the wisest and
most friendly counsel that he could
have given him. As a portrait-paint-
er Vandyck ranks beside Titian, and
they two excel all others in that spe-
cial art -in the period, too, when it
reached the highest excellence it has
ever known.
When Vandyck was ready to go
to Italy he made a farewell visit to
Rubens, and presented him with
three of his pictures. One of these,
The Romans Seizing Christ in the
Garden of Gethsemane," Rubens
hung in the principal room of his
house, and was never weary of prais-
ing it. The master returned his pu-
pil's generosity by presenting him
with one of his finest horses. Van-
dyck made his first stop at Savel-
them, a village near Brussels. Here
he fell in love with a girl named
Anna van Ophem, and forgot Italy
and his art while gazing in her face
and wandering by her side through
the fair valley in which she dwelt.
SBut Anna regretted his idleness, and
was curious to see the pictures that



he could paint. Finally, he yielded to her persua-
sions, and painted two pictures for the parish church
of Savelthem.
One of these was a Holy Family," in which the
Virgin was a portrait of Anna, while St. Joachim
and St. Anna represented her father and mother.
This picture he gave to the church. It has long
since disappeared, and it is said that it was used
to make grain-bags by French foragers. The sec-
ond picture, for which he was paid, represented
St. Martin of Tours, when he divided his cloak
with two beggars. The saint was a portrait of Van-
dyck himself, and the horse he rode was painted
from that which Rubens had given him. This
picture was very dear to the people of'Savelthem,
and when, in 1758, they discovered that the parish
priest had agreed to sell it, they armed themselves
with pitchforks and other homely weapons, and,
surrounding the church, insisted that the picture,
should not be removed. In 1806, however, they
were powerless before the French soldiers, and
though they loved their saint as dearly as ever, he
was borne away to Paris and placed in the gallery
of the Louvre, where he remained until 1815, when
he was taken again to Savelthem and restored to
his original place. It is also said that, in 1850, a
rich American offered $20,000 to any one who would
bring this picture to him, no matter how it was
obtained. Some rogues tried to steal it, but the
watch-dogs of Savelthem barked so furiously that
the men of the village were alarmed, and rushed
to the church so quickly that the robbers scarcely
escaped. Since then a guard sleeps in the church,
and St. Martin is undisturbed, and may always be
seen there dividing his cloak and teaching the les-
son of that Christian charity for which his.own life
was remarkable.
When Rubens heard of this long stay in Savel-
them he was much displeased, and wrote to Van-
dyck such letters as induced him to go to Venice,
where he studied the portraits of Giorgione and
Titian with great profit. His industry was untiring,
and he made many copies, besides painting some
original pictures. From Venice Vandyck went to
Genoa, where Rubens had formerly been so much
admired that his pupil was sure to be well received.
Being welcomed for his master's sake, he soon
made himself beloved for his own: for Vandyck
was elegant and refined in his manners, and these
qualities, in addition to his artistic powers, gained
for him all the patronage that he desired. Many
of the portraits which he then painted in Genoa
are still seen in its splendid palaces.
When Vandyck went to Rome, he was invited by
the Cardinal Bentivaglio to make one of his family.
This prelate had been a papal embassador in Flan-
ders, and had a fondness for the country and its

people. He was therefore very friendly to Van-
dyck, and employed him to paint a Crucifixion, and
a portrait of himself. This portrait is now one of
the treasures of the Pitti Gallery, in Florence. A
copy made by John Smybert, a Scotch artist, who
came to Boston early in the last. century, hangs in
one of the halls of Harvard College.
Vandyck found that the Flemish artists in Rome
were a rude and uncongenial company, and he
avoided their society. This so affronted them that
they became his enemies, and he shortened his stay
in Rome on that account, and returned to Genoa
two years after he had left.it. There he found a
charming friend in Sofonisba Anguisciola. She
had been a noted painter, and though she was
now blind and ninety-one years old, Vandyck was
accustomed to say that he learned more of the
principles of art from her than from the works of
the most celebrated masters. Vandyck visited
Palermo, Turin, Florence, and other cities, but
spent most of his time in Genoa until 1626, when
he returned to Antwerp.
It was some time before the artist met with any
success at home which at all compared with that
he had achieved in Italy. In 1628, he received an
order for a picture of St. Augustine in Ecstasy,"
for the Church of the Augustines in Antwerp. He
painted the saint in light vestments, and the
brotherhood insisted that they should be changed
to black. This so interfered with the distribution
of the light that the whole effect of the picture
was spoiled.
Again he was employed to paint a picture for
the church at Courtrai. It is said that the canons
insisted upon seeing the work before it was raised
to its place; and, not being able to judge of what it
would be when hung, they were not pleased with
it. They called Vandyck a "dauber," and left him.
After a time they found that they had made a
mistake, and asked Vandyck to paint two other
pictures for them, but he replied: "There are
already daubers enough in Courtrai without sum-
moning those of Antwerp," and took no further
notice of them. This story, however interesting,
does not accord with the fact that one of his finest
works is the "Elevation of the Cross," still in the
Church of Notre'Dame at Courtrai. It has been
called "one of the most admirable masterpieces
that the art of painting has ever produced."
During the five years that Vandyck remained in
Flanders and Holland, he painted almost number-
less portraits of royal and distinguished persons,
and more than thirty religious pictures for churches
and public places in the Low Countries. The
value of many of these works is now almost
fabulous. I must tell you one anecdote of this
time: On one occasion Vandyck was at Haarlem,








the home of Franz Hals, a noted Dutch portrait-
painter. Vandyck went to his studio, but, as usual,
Hals was at the tavern. Vandyck sent for him,
saying that a stranger wished his portrait painted,
and had but two hours to stay for it. Hals seized
a canvas and finished the picture within the
given time. Vandyck
praised it warmly, and
said: Painting seems
such a simple thing that
I should like to try what
I can do at it." Hals -
changed places with him,
and the visitor painted
the second portrait as
quickly as the first had
been made. When Hals
saw the picture, he em-
braced the painter and -
cried: You are Van- I.
dyck! No other could -
do what you have now
done !"
In 1632, after many
preliminaries, Vandyck
was called to the service
of Charles I. of England.
He was welcomed by the
King, who appointed him
court-painter, with a sal- /
ary of 200 a year, and
three months after his \
arrival in London con-
ferred on him the honor
of knighthood. From
the day he reached Eng-
land, Vandyck was the
fashion there. His ele-
gant and courtly man-
ners, and his style of
living when in Rome, PORTRAIT OF
had gained for him the
title of "II pittore Cavalieresco" (the noble or
generous painter), and now, in England, he in-
dulged in lavish hospitality. He often entertained
his sitters at dinner, in order to study their expres-
sion, and even the King visited his house without
ceremony. He was liberal to musicians and men
of genius, and made himself popular with many
classes. As the result of all this, his studio became
the resort of men of rank, and, in fact, a visit to
Vandyck was, of all things, most desirable to the
fashionables of the day, and men and women of
rank and influence vied with each other for the
privilege of being his sitters, until a list of the por-
traits which he painted is an endless repetition of
titles and notable names.

His lavishness threw him into debt, and he was
constantly in need of money, while his habits of
life undermined his health and made him very low
in his spirits. It is said that, with the hope of in-
creasing his fortune, he spent much time over
chemicals trying to discover the philosopher's

\ a ', \ [ \, m \

stone, which he believed would bring him limitless
gold. The poisonous gases which he thus inhaled
injured his already weakened health, and the King
and his friends became alarmed lest he should die.
At length, the King resolved to persuade Van-
dyck to marry, and selected a beautiful Scotch girl,
who had a position in the household of the Queen,
as a suitable wife for him. Her name was Maria
Ruthven, and she was a granddaughter of the Earl
of Gowrie. Very little is known of the married
life of the artist, but there is nothing to indicate
that it was not a happy one. He had one child, a
daughter, called Justiniana.
It is probable that Vandyck had frequently
visited Antwerp while living in England. We


know that, in 1634, he was chosen Dean of the Con-
fraternity of St. Luke in his native city, and a great
feast was celebrated on that occasion; and when,
in 1640, he took his bride there, the members of
the Academy ot Painting and many others received
them with distinguished attentions.
In spite of all he had done, Vandyck's highest
ambition as a painter had never been satisfied.
He had long cherished a desire to do some great
historical painting. At one time he had hoped to
decorate the walls of the banqueting-hall at the
palace of Whitehall. The ceiling had splendid
pictures by Rubens, and Vandyck proposed to
perfect the whole by portraying the history of the
Order of the Garter beneath the work of his mas-
ter. Charles was pleased with the idea, and asked
Vandyck to make his sketches; but he finally
abandoned the scheme, much to the regret of the
While he was at Antwerp with his wife, the
painter learned that Louis XIII. was about to deco-
rate the large saloon of the Louvre. He hastened
to Paris in the hope that he might obtain the com-
mission for the work, but when he arrived it had
already been given to Poussin. Greatly disap-
pointed, he returned to England, to find the royal
family, whom he knew and loved so well, over-
whelmed with misfortune. In March, 1641, the
Queen fled to France, while the King and his sons
took refuge at York. In May the Earl of Strafford
was executed, and all these'disasters, added to his
previous disappointments and the fact that the arts
which the King had cherished were already fallen
into dishonor, brought upon the artist a disease
which proved to be fatal.
He continued to paint until within a few days of
his death, and it was but eight days before that
event that his daughter was born and he made his
will. When the King returned to London, in spite
of all his own troubles and cares, he found time to
be true to his friendship for Vandyck. He offered
his physician 300 if he could save the artist's life;
but nothing could be done, and he died at his
home in Blackfriars, December 9, 1641, at the
early age of forty-two years. It is said that his
funeral was attended by many nobles and artists.
He was buried in the Cathedral of St. Paul's, near
the tomb of John of Gaunt. When St. Paul's was
burned, the remains of Vandyck were probably
scattered. When the grave of Benjamin West was
prepared in the crypts of the new St. Paul's, Van-
dyck's coffin-plate was discovered there.
The pictures of Vandyck are so numerous that
we can here say almost nothing of them. They
embrace a great variety of subjects, and are found
in nearly all large or good collections. He left

some etchings, also, which are executed with great
spirit. I have said that as a portrait-painter he is
almost unrivaled; as a painter of other subjects he
had also great merits. He had not the power of
invention of his master, Rubens, and could not
seize upon terrible moments and important inci-
dents to give them the power which the pictures
of Rubens had; but Vandyck gave an intensity of
expression to his faces, and an elevation to their
emotions, which excelled his master. His drawing
was more correct, and his feeling for Nature
more refined, so that, taken all in all, perhaps
the master and pupil were very nearly equal as
painters, though they differed in the qualities of
their talents.
Vandyck may be said to have painted in three
manners. The first was that of a rich and mellow
color, which he acquired after visiting Italy to
study the works of Titian and others. Sir Joshua
Reynolds said of this style: It supposes the sun
in the room." The second manner is seen in the
silvery color of his English pictures; they are
brilliant and delicate at the same time that they
are solid and firm in their execution. His third
manner is that of his latest works, when poor
health and low spirits caused him to be careless
and to give but little attention to their sentiment
or execution.
Among his most distinguished portraits are
those of Charles I. and his family. Perhaps the
most pleasing of these is the picture of the three
children of the King--a subject which Vandyck
several times repeated. One of these is in the
gallery of Turin, others at Dresden and Berlin,
and a small one at the Louvre, in Paris. His
equestrian portraits are noble works, and many of
his full-length figures exist in various galleries.
The most magnificent collection in any one place
is that of Windsor Castle, in possession of the
Queen. It consists of thirty-nine pictures, all but
three being portraits of single figures or groups.
The prices that are now paid for the works of
Vandyck, on the rare occasions when they are
sold, are enormous. A portrait of Anne Cavendish,
Lady Rich, was sold at the San Donato sale, in
Florence, in 188o, to Mr. Berners, for $30,000. In
1876, a few of his etchings were sold in Brussels;
and that from a portrait of the artist, both portrait
and etching being his own work, brought about
We have not space to speak here of the his-
torical, mythological, and other pictures painted
by Vandyck. Though they are not equal to his
portraits, they are very interesting, and those of
you who go to Europe will see many of them in
the churches and galleries that you will visit.





I /,
. . . .




r '


r583.l MIKE AND I.



WE were off for our summer vacation, Mike (my
chum) and I. Mike took it rather quietly, but
that is his way. People have different ways of
talking; his was through his eyes, and how much
they could tell a fellow But I 'm not the mum
kind, and I wanted to talk to everybody -
wanted to ask them if they, too, were going away
from the hot, dusty city, to stay three long, rest-
ful, delicious weeks.
Finally, as we came near our journey's end, and
packed ourselves away in the old stage which was
to land us at the lake-side, I felt that I must talk
or explode. I tell you, being shut up in a dingy
little office in a dingy little street of a dingy big
city for eleven months of the year makes one ap-
preciate some things; so, when I sniffed the real
country odors, and then caught sight of a pond
through the trees, I gave Mike a rapturous shake ;
but he made no reply except to rattle the fishing-
tackle in his pockets. This was expressive, but
rather dull for steady conversation; so, in despera-
tion,. I began to scan my fellow-passengers, in hopes
of finding somebody else who wanted to talk. There
was a tall, good-natured man, his wife, big girl,
little girl, poodle, and baby, and a jolly-look-
ing boy, who sat cocking his eye at me in such
a remarkably funny way that I laughed, which
laugh seemed to act on him like an inspiration,
for he immediately broke the silence by inquiring
in a rapid voice:
"Where you going? We're going to the Lake
View House tip-top place ever been ? Splen-
did fishing was there last summer lots of fun."
I informed him that I was going there also, and
then followed a spirited discussion as to the rela-
tive merits of grasshoppers or angle-worms for
bait. As my experience with either was limited,
this subject soon dropped, when he inquired,
"Are n't any of your folks going to be there?"
possibly envying me freedom from the sisterhood.
"None of my folks," I replied, "but my chum,
my best friend; we 're going to have fine times to-
gether. You 'd like him; he's a capital fellow -
when he is in the mood," I said, laughing, as I
noticed him sitting silent and stiff beside me.
"You must come up to our room some day," I
added, as the stage stopped before our hotel.
I saw nothing of my new acquaintance for a day
or two, and Mike, who had come out of his dumps,
was such good company that I forgot all about the
boy till, one afternoon, he came rushing down the

hall after me as I was returning to our room from
a long tramp.
"Halloo! Where you been-fishing?" he
asked, breathlessly.
Yes," I answered.
Catch anything? "
Of course."
Where 's your chum?"
"Mike? Oh, he is upstairs; he does n't like
fishing. Come and see him. He will be in a gay
humor when I show what I have. We will have a
festive time. Come up ? "
"Yes, guess I will. I 'm sick of things here,
This was no uncommon boy. He was just like
a thousand others a rough-and-tumble sort of
chap, but good-hearted, and ready to learn good
or bad, just whichever happened to come his
way. As I listened to his bright talk of his
thrilling adventure with a pickerel, I congratu-
lated myself that he would be quite an addition to
my pleasure, for Mike, as I have intimated, was a
queer one, not fond of the active part of fishing
or hunting; but he did ample justice to the spoils,
as I assured Bob-which I found to be the boy's
name-when he made some damaging remark
about my friend, to the effect that "Mike could n't
be much of fellow if he didn't fish." So I had to
plead his cause as we ascended the last flight of
stairs, declaring that he made up for this masculine
deficiency by the host of things he knew. "Why,"
I said, "he is the most interesting company in the
world; he tells the most wonderful stories,-more
marvelous than the Arabian Nights, or Jules
Verne, and all true, too, and he will keep at it as
long as you have a mind to sit up of an evening."
The look of disdain over Mike's deplorable lack of
interest in those sports dear to the heart of every
well-regulated boy had changed to one of lively
interest when I promised, as I turned the key of
134 and flung open the door, to "set Mike a-going
for his benefit." Mike was not visible, and while I
disposed of my fishing apparatus, Bob surveyed
the empty room with disappointment.
"Where is he ? Trot him out," he demanded.
Oh, I keep him locked up in a closet when I
am gone out," I replied, stooping to draw off my
muddy boots, and at the same time hide my
amused face from the perplexed Bob, who ex-
claimed, Gracious! you don't, do you?" Think-
ing the climax of his bewilderment was reached, I




proceeded to unlock the door of a black-walnut
boi standing on the floor, and drew out and set
upon the table a microscope, announcing, as I
waved my hand toward it, "Behold my friend,
my chum, my blessed old Mike "
Bob's face was a circus in itself. Many expres-
sions struggled for the field, but disgusted disap-
pointment gained the day, and he muttered, as he
picked up his hat and started for the door, Who
wants to see your old telescope !"
Hold on I cried-" stay five minutes; then
you can go back to the girls and abuse me and
my friend if you want to."
So back he shuffled, but slowly, and with a look
of determined suspicion at me. I went about my
affairs, feeling sure he would change his tune
when once Mike had a chance to defend himself.
The "catch" of my fishing, which was all con-
tained in a small glass bottle with a wide mouth,
I began to investigate by holding it up toward
the light. Seeing some very small specks float-
ing about, I took a glass tube, about as big and
as long as a new slate-pencil; placing my finger
closely over one end, I lowered the other directly
over one of these specks, when, lifting my finger
for an instant, out rushed some air, and at the
other end up rushed some of the water, and with it
the speck. This I allowed to run out upon a little
slip of glass, called a slide, by lifting my finger
again, when in rushed some air, and out went the
.drop of water. By this time Bob had lost his dis-
gusted expression, and condescended to show slight
interest in this new way. of fishing. The slide,
with the drop upon it, I then placed on the little
shelf, or "stage," of my microscope. Looking
through the long tube which is the main part of
the instrument in size, touching a screw here, an-
other there, and turning the little mirror, just
under Oe stage, toward the light, I asked Bob to
take a look also, at the same time remarking that
I rather guessed I had beat him in fishing for that
day. Bob squinted up one eye, peeped cau-
tiously with the other, and forthwith exclaimed,
" Jimminy Jinkins Jimminy failing to appear
upon the scene, I did, telling him, while he looked
and wondered, wondered and looked, that all the
little fellows'he saw had names and histories, and
cut up the funniest capers imaginable.
But Bob interrupted with, Oh here 's a huge
one, and all tangled up in a grdat, long green
stem, and kicking like mad What 's his name?"
"That is a da/nia," I said, smiling at his
enthusiasm; "and now look carefully, and you
will see that you can look right through him. Do
you see something beating inside of him-eh?
Well, that is his heart, and you can sometimes see
that every time it contracts some colorless fluid is

pushed out through the body; that is the blood
circulating, and-"
But here Bob broke in with wild excitement,
" True as preaching, he 's eating something, and I
can see him swallowing it Oh, is n't this fun "
I could not help laughing in my sleeve to see
this boy so wholly absorbed by my old telescope,"
and suggested that he take his eye from the tube
for a moment, aild with his own hands move the
glass slide just a very little to one side, so as to get
a view of another part of the vast sea contained in
the drop of water. This being done, he again ap-
plied his eye to the bung-hole," as he elegantly
termed it, when I asked him what he saw now.
"Oh! an awfully funny thing, kind of like a
worm, with ever so many branches at one end-
no, it 's like a long hand with long, crooked fin-
gers, only there are eight of them-and-oh,
they are all stretched out and feeling around! "
"Yes," I assented, knowing well the animal at
which he was looking. "Now, give the glass slide
a little tap with your finger-nail, but keep looking
just the same." The result of this experiment
made him jump, as he exclaimed: "He jerked
all his fingers in quicker 'n lightning, and now he
is all drawn up into a little ball! "
As I enjoyed his excitement, I explained that
the fingers were called tentacles, and that they
were used to feel about for food, and that some
naturalists thought that at the end of each tentacle
was a little sting, with which they killed their
prey, and then drew it into their mouth, which was
a little opening in the end of the tube from which
these tentacles grew.
"But what 's the gentleman's name?" de-
manded Bob, wishing to know everything at once.
"Well," I answered, do you know about the
twelve things that Hercules had to do before he
could become immortal? "
Bob looked as though he had known from earliest
infancy, but as I myself remembered that my wisest
looks had too often been in direct proportion to
my ignorance, I thought it best to tell the story.
Somehow, it happened that Hercules got
cheated out of the throne which he was to in-
herit; so his father, Jupiter, made Juno prom-
ise that she would make Hercules immortal if he
accomplished twelve great deeds. One of them
was the killing of the Hydra, a monster with nine
heads. Hercules went bravely to work chopping
these off, but every severed head was immediately
replaced by two. So this little animal is called the
hydra, and if we try to slay it we shall be as much
amazed as was Hercules; for, if we cut off one
of these tentacles, another will grow in its place.
And more than this : the piece that is cut off
lives on, and, in time, will grow its own circle of



1883.] MIKE AND I.

tentacles and be a full-fledged hydra, independent
of everybody! Why, just to think, there was a
Frenchman who, aided by his microscope, could
do very delicate work, and he turned some hydras
wrong-side out, and they did n't seem to mind it
at all, but meekly accommodated themselves to the
situation, and went on fishing as happily as before,
making what was before their outsides do for
their stomachs It is almost impossible to kill
them, for, even if you chop them up into little
pieces, each piece will grow into an animal like
the one from which it was cut, and set up house-
keeping on its own account. So, you see, out of
one hydra you can make a large community."
"Let 's do it now," said the eager Bob, with
eyes big with wonder.
"Oh, no," I said. "It takes some days for all
this to happen, and remember that you can hardly
see the hydra with your naked eye. And it requires
some skill to do this microscopic butchering."
This seemed a new idea, and he examined my
small water-jar with renewed interest, asking,
" Are there more of these fellows in here? "
"Perhaps not one," I answered. "Sometimes
I can't find one for weeks, and then all at once
I may come across a pond with thousands; but
even then you have to know just how to find
them. The best way is to dip up some water
from the bottom or side of a stagnant pool--
taking bits of the little water-plants, or of the green

scum (which will turn out to be delicate stems,
with lovely patterns in green dots running along
them), with it. Set the bottle in the window for
a day or two, and you will find the hydras, if there
are any there, fastened to the glass next the light."
As the gong for tea sounded, I said, as I began
to put things away, while Bob took a last peep,
"Well, Mike is n't so bad, is he? Come up again,
if you like him. We have only made a beginning
as yet on what is to be seen in that water. By the
way, Simple Simon was n't such a fool, after all, if
he had a microscope,- eh Bob ?"
"What do you mean?" said Bob, trying his
luck at fishing with a glass tube, as if for once
supper had failed to charm.
"Why, don't you remember-
'Simple Simon went a-fishing for to catch a whale,
And all the water that he had was in his mother's pail'?"
By this time Mike had been put into his box,
and Bob remarked, as we went down-stairs,
"He's the best old chap I 've seen yet!"
As I glanced across the long dining-hall, I was
convulsed to see Bob, who was at the next table,
suddenly stop a glass of water half-way toward
his lips, and gaze into it with horror. The next
moment he dashed over to me, shouting: Say!
Is this water full of 'em ?" I assured him that he
could drink it with entire safety, there being
nothing of the kind in ordinary water, as Mike
could further prove next time he gave a show.

J1 ,


- 2




1Joii V ry

I- i


' ,-- -- ,,
t i'-, ,
A ..' .
4- .--

I -


A LITTLE man, in walking down the dusty road one day,
Met a little woman traveling afoot the other way;
And, laying down his big valise, he bowed in handsome style,
While she returned his greeting with a curtsey and a smile.
"Can you inform me where,
ma'am, I can find a wife? "
S-said he.
-1i6 A "'T was on my tongue to ask
about a husband, sir," said

,. Ai ij

"I'm weary of my single state,
and many miles I've gone
For one who '11 cook and wash
for me, and sew my buttons
Who'll wait on me when I am
well and tend me when I 'm
.And never give me cause to
grumble at a foolish bill.
Do you know any one, ma'am,
you can recommend?" said
"I 'm looking for precisely such
a husband, sir," said she.





He puckered up his lips and whistled thoughtfully and low,-
Then slowly reached for his valise, regretfully to go;
While, with a pensive little smile, she gazed up at the sky
And watched the fleecy cloudlets as they lazily passed by.
" 'T is plain I 'm not the husband you 're after, ma'am said he.
"'T is evident I 'm not the wife you're seeking, sir! said she.


I .5





^ -t- --Lt1^ r

r A,




THE expedition up the Nile had taken place suc-
cessfully. The Peterkin family had reached Cairo
again-at least, its scattered remnant was there,
and they were now to consider what next.
Mrs. Peterkin would like to spend her life in the
dahabieh,* though she could not pronounce its
name, and she still felt the strangeness of the
scenes about her. However, she had only to look
out upon the mud villages on the bank to see that
she was in the veritable "Africa" she had seen
pictured in the geography of her childhood. If
further corroboration were required, had she not,
only the day before, when accompanied by no one
but a little donkey-boy, shuddered to meet a
strange Nubian, attired principally in hair that
stood out from his savage face in frizzes at least
half a yard long.

But oh, the comforts of no trouble in housekeep-
ing on board the dazabiek / Never to know what
they were to have for dinner, nor to be asked what
they would like, and yet always to have a dinner
you could ask chance friends to, knowing all would
be perfectly served Some of the party with whom
they had engaged their dahabielJ had even brought
canned baked beans from New England, which
seemed to make their happiness complete.
Though we see beans here," said Mrs. Peter-
kin, they are not 'Boston beans' "
She had fancied she would have to live on stuffed
ostrich (ostrich stuffed with iron filings, that the
books tell of), or fried hippopotamus, or boiled
rhinoceros. But she met with none of these, and
day after day was rejoiced to find her native tur-
key appearing on the table, with pigeons and

* A boat used for transportation on the Nile.




. 1 1



chickens (though the chickens, to be sure, were
scarcely larger than the pigeons), and lamb that
was really not more tough than that of New
Hampshire and the White Mountains.
If they dined with the Arabs, there was indeed a
kind of dark molasses-gingerbread-looking cake,
with curds in it, that she found it hard to eat.
"But they like it," she said, complacently.
The remaining little boy, too, smiled over his
pile of ripe bananas, as he thought of the quarter-
of-a-dollar-a-half-dozen green ones at that moment
waiting at the corners of the streets at home. In-
deed, it was a land for boys. There were the dates,
both fresh and dried-far more juicy than those
learned at school; and there was the gingerbread-
nut tree, the d6m palm, that bore a nut tasting
"like baker's gingerbread that has been kept
a few days in the shop," as the remaining little
boy remarked. And he wished for his brothers
when the live dinner came on board their boat,
at the stopping-places, in the form of good-sized
sheep struggling on the .shoulders of stout Arabs,
or an armful of live hens and pigeons.
All the family (or as much of it as was present)
agreed with Mrs. Peterkin's views. Amanda at
home had seemed quite a blessing, but at this dis-
tance her services, compared with the attentions
of their Maltese dragoman and the devotion of
their Arab servants, seemed of doubtful value, and
even Mrs. Peterkin dreaded returning to her tender
"Just imagine inviting the Russian Count to
dinner at home -and Amanda exclaimed Eliza-
beth Eliza.
And he came to dinner at least three times a
week on board the boat," said the remaining little
The Arabs are so convenient about carrying
one's umbrellas and shawls," said Elizabeth Eliza.
" How I should miss Hassan in picking up my blue
veil "
The family recalled many anecdotes of the short-
comings of Amanda, as Mrs. Peterkin leaned back
upon her divan and wafted a fly-whisk. Mr.
Peterkin had expended large sums in telegrams
from every point where he found the telegraph in
operation; but there was no reply from Solomon
John, and none from the two little boys.
By a succession of telegrams, they had learned
that no one had fallen into the crater of Vesuvius
in the course of the last six months, not even a
little boy. This was consoling.
By letters from the lady from Philadelphia, they
learned that she had received Solomon John's
telegram from Geneva at the time she heard from
the rest of the family, and one signed "L. Boys"
from Naples. But neither of these telegrams gave

an address for return answers, which she had,
however, sent to Geneva and Naples, with the fatal
omission by the operator (as she afterward learned)
of the date, as in the other telegrams.
Mrs. Peterkin, therefore, disliked to be long
away from the Sphinx, and their excursion up the
Nile had been shortened on this account. All the
Nubian guides near the pyramids had been fur-
nished with additional backsheesh and elaborate
explanations from Mr. Peterkin as to how they
should send him information if Solomon John and
the little boys should turn up at the Sphinx-for
all the family agreed they would probably appear
in Egypt together.
Mrs. Peterkin regretted not having any photo-
graphs to leave with the guides; but Elizabeth
Eliza, alas! had lost at Brindisi the hand-bag
that contained the family photograph-book.
Mrs. Peterkin would have liked to take up her
residence near the Sphinx for the rest of the year.
But every one warned her that the heat of an
Egyptian summer would not allow her to stay
at Cairo -scarcely even on the sea-shore, at
How thankful was Mrs. Peterkin, a few months
after, when the war in Egypt broke out, that
her wishes had not been yielded to For many
nights she could not sleep, picturing how they all
might have been massacred by the terrible mob
in Alexandria.
Intelligence of Solomon John led them to take
their departure.
One day, they were discussing at the table
d'kdte their letters from the lady from Philadel-
phia, and how they showed that Solomon John
had been at Geneva.
"Ah, there was his mistake!" said Elizabeth
Eliza. "The Doolittles left Marseilles with us, and
were to branch off for Geneva, and we kept on to
Genoa, and Solomon John was always mistaking
Genoa for Geneva, as we planned our route. I
remember there was a great confusion when they
got off."
"I always mix up Geneva and Genoa," said
Mrs. Peterkin. "I feel as if they were the same."
"They are quite different," said Elizabeth Eliza;
and Genoa lay in our route, while Geneva took
him into Switzerland."
An English gentleman, on the opposite side of
the table, then spoke to Mr. Peterkin.
"I beg pardon," he said. "I think I met one
of your name in Athens. He attracted our atten-
tion because he went every day to the same spot,
and he told us he expected to meet his family
there--that he had an appointment by tele-
graph "
"In Athens! exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin.



"Was his name Solomon John?" asked Eliza-
beth Eliza.
"Were there two little boys?" inquired Mrs.
"His initials were the same as mine," replied
the Englishman,-"S. J. P.,-for some of his
luggage came by mistake into my room, and that
is why I spoke of it."
"Is there a Sphinx in Athens ?" Mrs. Peterkin
"There used to be one there," said Agamem-
"I beg your pardon," said the Englishman,
" but that Sphinx never was in Athens."
"But Solomon John may have made the mis-
take-we all make our mistakes," said Mrs. Pe-
terkin, tying her bonnet-strings, as if ready to go
to meet Solomon John at that moment.
"The Sphinx was at Thebes in the days of
CEdipus," said the Englishman. "No one would
expect to find it anywhere in Greece at the present
"But was Solomon John inquiring for it?"
asked Mr. Peterkin.
"Indeed, no!" answered the Englishman; "he
went every day to the Pnyx, a famous hill in
Athens, where his telegram had warned him he
should meet his friends."
"The Pnyx!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; "and
how do you spell it?"
"P-n-y-x!" cried Agamemnon- "the same
letters as in Sphinx! "
"All but the 's' and the 'h' and the 'y,'"
said Elizabeth Eliza.
"I often spell Sphinx with a 'y' myself," said
Mr. Peterkin.
"And a telegraph-operator makes such mis-
takes !" said Agamemnon.
"His telegram had been forwarded to him from
Switzerland," said the Englishman; "it had fol-
lowed him into the Dolomite region, and must
have been translated many times."
"And of course they could not all have been
expected to keep the letters in the right order,"
said Elizabeth Eliza.
"And were there two little boys with him?" re-
peated Mrs. Peterkin.
No; there were no little boys. But further in-
quiries satisfied the family that Solomon John
must be awaiting them in Athens. And how nat-
ural the mistake! Mrs. Peterkin said that, if she
had known'of a Pnyx, she should surely have
looked for the family there.
Should they then meet Solomon John at the
Pnyx, or summon him to Egypt? It seemed safer
to go directly to Athens, especially as Mr. Peterkin
and Agamemnon were anxious to visit that city.

It was found that a steamer would leave Alex-
andria next day for Athens, by way of Smyrna and
Constantinople. This was roundabout course, but
Mr. Peterkin was impatient to leave, and was glad
to gain more acquaintance with the world. Mean-
while, they could telegraph their plans to Solomon
John, as the English gentleman could give them the
address of his hotel.
And Mrs. Peterkin did not now shrink from
another voyage. Her experience on the Nile had
made her forget her sufferings in crossing the At-
lantic, and she no longer dreaded entering another
steam-boat. Their delight in river navigation, in-
deed, had been so great that the whole family had
listened with interest to the descriptions given by
their Russian fellow-traveler of steam-boat naviga-
tion on the Volga-" the most beautiful river in
the world," as he declared. Elizabeth Eliza and
Mr. Peterkin were eager to try it, and Agamemnon
remarked that such a trip would give them an
opportunity to visit the renowned fair at Nijni-
novgorod. Even Mrs. Peterkin had consented to
this expedition, provided they should meet Solo-
mon John and the other little boys.
She started, therefore, on a fresh voyage without
any dread, forgetting that the Mediterranean, if
not so wide as the Atlantic, is still a sea, and often
as tempestuous and uncomfortably "choppy."
Alas she was soon to be awakened from her for-
getfulness: the sea was the same old enemy.
As they passed up among the Ionian Isles, and
she heard Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza and
their Russian friend (who was accompanying
them to Constantinople) talking of the old gods of
Greece, she fancied that they were living still, and
that Neptune and the classic waves were wreak-
ing their vengeance on them, and pounding and
punishing them for venturing to rule them with
steam. She was fairly terrified. As they entered
Smyrna she declared she would never enter any
kind of a boat again, and that Mr. Peterkin must
find some way by which they could reach home
by land.
How delightful it was to draw near the shore,
on a calm afternoon even to trust herself to the
charge of the boatmen in leaving the ship, and to
reach land once more and meet the tumult of
voices and people! Here was the screaming and
shouting usual in the East, and the same bright
array of turbans and costumes in the crowd
awaiting them. But a well-known voice reached
them, and from the crowd rose a well-known face.
Even before they reached the land they had recog-
nized its owner. With his American dress, he
looked almost foreign in contrast to the otherwise
universal Eastern color. A tall figure on either
side seemed, also, each to have a familiar air.


Were there three Solomon Johns ?
No; it was Solomon John and the two other
little boys -but grown so that they were no longer
little boys. Even Mrs. Peterkin was unable to
recognize them at first. But the tones of their
voices, their ways, were as natural as ever. Each
had a banana in his hand, and pockets stuffed
with oranges.
Questions and answers interrupted each other in
a most confusing manner:
"Are you the lite boys?"
Where have you been? "
"Did you go to Vesuvius ?"
How did you get away? "
Why did n't you come sooner ?"
Our India-rubber boots stuck in the hot lava."
Have you been there all this time ? "
"No ; we left them there."
Have you had fresh dates ? "
They are all gone now, but the dried ones are
better than those squeezed ones we have at home."
How you have grown "
Why did n't you telegraph ? "
"Why did you go to Vesuvius, when Papa
said he could n't ? "
Did you, too, think it was Pnyx? "
"Where have you been all winter?"
"Did you roast eggs in the crater? "
"When did you begin to grow ? "
The little boys could not yet thoroughly explain
themselves; they always talked together, and in
foreign languages, interrupting each other, and
never agreeing as to dates.
Solomon John accounted for his appearance in
Smyrna by explaining that, when he received his
father's telegram in Athens, he decided to meet
them at Smyrna. He was tired of waiting at the
Pnyx. He had but just landed, and came near
missing his family, and the little boys too, who
had reached Athens just as he was leaving it.
None of the family wished now to continue their
journey to Athens, but they had the advice and
assistance of their Russian friend in planning to
leave the steamer at Constantinople; they would,
by adopting this plan, be en route for the proposed
excursion to the Volga.
Mrs. Peterkin was overwhelmed with joy at hav-
ing all her family together once more; but with
it a wave of home-sickness surged over her. They
were all together; why not go home?
It was found that there was a sailing-vessel
bound absolutely for Maine, in which they might
take passage. No more separation; no more mis-
takes; no more tedious study of guide-books; no
more weighing of baggage. Every trunk and bag,
every Peterkin, could be placed in the boat, and
safely landed on the shores of home. It was a

temptation, and at one time Mrs. Peterkin actually
pleaded for it.
But there came a throbbing in her head, a swim-
ming in her eyes, a swaying of the very floor of
the hotel. Could she bear it, day after day, week
after week? Would any of them be alive? And
Constantinople not seen, nor steam-navigation on
the Volga!
And so new plans arose, and wonderful discov-
eries were made, and the future of the Peterkin
family was changed forever.
In the first place, a strange, stout gentleman
in spectacles had followed the Peterkin family to
the hotel, had joined in the family councils, and
had rendered valuable service in negotiating with
the officers of the steamer for the cancellation of
their through tickets to Athens. He dined at the
same table, and was consulted by the (formerly)
little boys.
Who was he?
They explained that he was their preceptor."
It appeared that, after they parted from their
father, the little boys had become mixed up with
some pupils who were being taken by their precep-
tor to Vesuvius. For some time he had not noticed
that his party (consisting of boys of their own
age) had been enlarged; and after finding this
out, he had concluded they were the sons of
an English family with whom he had been cor-
responding. He was surprised that no further
intelligence came with them, and no extra bag-
gage. They had, however, their hand-bags; and
after sending their telegram to the lady from Phil-
adelphia, they assured him that all would be
right. But they were obliged to leave Naples
the very day of dispatching the telegram, and
left no address to which an answer could be sent.
The preceptor took them, with his pupils, directly
back to his institution in Gratz, Austria, from
which he had taken them on this little excursion.
It was not till the end of the winter that he dis-
covered that his youthful charges -whom he had
been faithfully instructing, and who had found the
gymnasium and invigorating atmosphere so favor-
able to growth-were not the sons of his English
correspondent, whom he had supposed, from their
explanations, to be traveling in America.
He was, however, intending to take his pupils to
Athens in the spring, and by this time the little
boys were able to explain themselves better in
his native language. They assured him they
should meet their family in the East, and the pre-
ceptor felt it safe to take them upon the track
It was now that Mr. Peterkin prided himself
upon the plan he had insisted upon before leaving
home. "Was it not well," he exclaimed, "that




I provided each of you with a bag of gold, for use
in case of emergency, hidden in the lining of your
hand-bags? "
This had worked badly for Elizabeth Eliza, to be
sure, who had left hers at Brindisi; but the little
boys had been able to pay some of their ex-
penses, which encouraged the preceptor to believe
he might trust them for the rest. So much
pleased were all the family with the preceptor
that they decided that all three of the little boys
should continue under his instructions, and return
with him to Gratz.
This decision made more easy the other plans of
the family.
Both Agamemnon and Solomon John had de-
cided they would like to be foreign consuls. They
did not much care where, and they would accept
any appointment, and both, it appeared, had writ-
ten on the subject to the Department at Washing-
ton. Agamemnon had put in a plea for a vacancy
at Madagascar, and Solomon John hoped for an
opening at Rustchuk, Turkey; if not there, at
Aiutab, Syria. Answers were expected, which
were now telegraphed for, to meet them in Con-
Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin had been consulting
the preceptor and the Russian Count about a land
journey home. More and more Mrs. Peterkin
determined she could not and would not trust
herself to another voyage, though she consented
to travel by steamer to Constantinople. If they
went as far as Nijninovgorod, which was now
decided upon, why could they not persevere
through Russia in Asia ?
Their Russian friend at first shook his head at
this, but at last agreed that it might be possible
to go on from Novgorod comfortably to Tobolsk,
perhaps even from there to Yakoutsk, and then to
"And cross at Behrings' Straits exclaimed
Mrs. Peterkin. It looks so narrow on the map."
And then we are in Alaska," said Mr. Peter-
"And at home," exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin,
and no more voyages."
But Elizabeth Eliza doubted about Kamschatka
and Behrings' Straits, and thought it would be very
"But we can buy furs on our way," insisted
Mrs. Peterkin.
"And if you do not find the journey agreeable,"

said their Russian friend, "you can turn back
from Yakoutsk, even from Tobolsk, and come to
visit us."
Yes s !
For Elizabeth Eliza was to marry the Russian
He had been in a boat that was behind them
on the Nile, had met them often, had climbed the
ruins with them, joined their excursions, and had
finally proposed at Edfu.
Elizabeth Eliza had then just written to consult
the lady from Philadelphia with regard to the
offer of a German professor they had met, and she
could give no reply to the Count.
Now, however, it was necessary to make a de-
cision. She had meanwhile learned a few words
of Russian. The Count spoke English moderately
well, made himself understood better than the
Professor, and could understand Elizabeth Eliza's
French. Also, the Count knew how to decide
questions readily, while the Professor had to con-
sider both sides before he could make up his mind.
Mrs. Peterkin objected strongly at first. She
could not even pronounce the Russian's name.
"How should she be able to speak to him, or tell
anybody whom Elizabeth Eliza had married?"
But finally the family all gave their consent, won
by the attention and devotion of Elizabeth Eliza's
last admirer.
The marriage took place in Constantinople not
at Santa Sophia, as Elizabeth Eliza would have
wished, as that was under a Mohammedan dis-
pensation. A number of American residents were
present, and the preceptor sent for his other pupils
in Athens. Elizabeth Eliza wished there was time
to invite the lady from Philadelphia to be present,
and Ann Maria Bromwich. Would the name be
spelled right in the newspapers ? All that could
be done was to spell it by telegraph as accurately
as possible, as far as they themselves knew how,
and then leave the papers to do their best (or their
worst) in their announcements of the wedding
"at the American Consulate, Constantinople,
Turkey. No cards."
The last that was ever heard of the Peterkins,
Agamemnon was on his way to Madagascar,
Solomon John was at Rustchuk, and the little boys
at Gratz; Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, in a comfortable
sledge, were on their way from Tobolsk to Ya-
koutsk; and Elizabeth Eliza was passing her honey-
moon in the neighborhood of Moscow.


I ,




I ,, l ~

. .,





-~~ I''~i:
6- I'



MANY of the readers of ST. NICHOLAS will re-
member an article on "Curious Nests," which
was printed in the number for November, 1880.
Of the nests described, some were remarkable for
the situations in which they had been built-such
as "the nest in the scare-crow"; while others-
like "the nest of lace" and "the nest suspended
by a thread"-were peculiar in the way they
were made or secured. Not the least curious
thing about them, however, was the fact that in
almost every instance there was a good and sensi-
ble reason for the oddity. It is not always a mere
whim that causes a pair of winged builders to
violate the usual fashions of bird-architecture, or
to select a site for their home that might well
make respectable bird-society gossip and stare.
No, indeed! However "queer" or eccentric the
little couple may seem to their own kind, the girl
or boy, or gentle wise man, who finds their deserted
nest in the autumn, soon observes that the thing
which made it peculiar, as birds' nests go, was the
very thing that made it more safe or more com-
fortable than birds' nests usually are.
Since the publication of the article we have men-
tioned, ST. NICHOLAS has received a number of
letters and communications telling of curious nests
or doings of some common birds. And the most
appropriate time for showing these to you is surely
this very month of May,-when, in every tree
and wayside hedge, and also in the city parks and
arbors (for some of the most curious nests have
been found in the city), you can yourselves ob-
serve the little architects at their work, and see
how clever and skillful they are.

Here, to begin with, is an account by Dr. C. C.
Abbot, of the cunning way in which a little bird
rebuilt its nest in order to avoid hatching an in-
truder's egg. When you have read it you will
agree that our correspondent was right in calling
the bird's plan
"A pretty little fly-catcher, which had taken
much pains to build her nest, was in trouble about
her own pearly eggs, and through no fault of her
own. An impudent cow-bird (Molothrus 1pecoris
of naturalists), too lazy to make a nest for herself,
or to look up an old one, or, indeed, to hatch her
own eggs, had slyly dropped an egg in the fly-
catcher's nest, and then gone off, quite indifferent
as to what became of it.
What the first thoughts of the fly-catcher were
when she saw the intrusive egg, I am at a loss to

conjecture; but the nest itself tells us that the
bird was not easily outwitted, and also that the con-
clusion it finally reached was, to get rid of the
noxious egg, by making practically a new nest out
of the old one.
Now, this fly-catcher, which ornithologists
know as the white-eyed vireo (Vireo noveboracen-
cis), builds a rather fragile, hanging nest, usually
out of fine twigs and strips of thin bark, all nicely
interlaced, but sometimes employing also large
pieces of newspaper. The nest is suspended to the
delicate twigs that grow on the very ends of long,
wavy branches. To compensate, therefore, for the
considerable motion to which it is subjected when
the wind blows, the nest is made very deep, and
quite small at the top. So deep is it, in fact, that
usually we can not detect the sitting bird, unless
the nest is looked upon from above.
In the instance of the nest here described, this
great depth of the original structure came nicely
into play; for the outcome of the bird's thoughts
was that to build a new floor to the nest, while it
would necessitate leaving two of her own eggs un-
hatched, would place the unwieldy egg of the
interloper down in the basement also, and would
thus leave her free to rear her own family, unmo-
lested, on the second floor. This she cunningly
accomplished by first placing a stout twig just
above the eggs, and then interweaving suitable
soft materials with the sides of the nest, allow-
ing their weight to rest upon the twig extending
from side to side and projecting beyond them.
Just how this was arranged is shown by the out-
line of the nest in the accompanying diagram.
Considering the fix the fly-catcher was in, and
her determination not to nurse the foundling, cer-
tainly this was an easy way out of it; and not only
easy, but ingenious, showing, as it does, an intel-
ligence that would be
little suspected by the
unfortunate men and
S women (and girls and
boys) who pass by,
unheeded, the many
S wonders of bird-life
that help to make this
world so beautiful.
"Another little bird
that is much more fre-
quently subjected to
the annoyance of visits
from the cow-bird, is our very common, pretty sum-
mer warbler (Dendraoca cstiva). When this bird
finds the strange egg in its nest, it covers up the egg


(with any of its own that are alongside it) in a mass
of materials like that of which the nest is made, and
another set of eggs is laid upon this new flooring
of the nest. Sometimes it happens that a second
cow-bird's egg is laid on this new floor, and again
the warbler has to cover it also, that its own eggs
may not be disturbed; so that we have
in such a case a three-storied struct-
ure. What patient. i*: --:tr .t ,
birds, then, these lit ".. .. '
lers are
"Considering UL I .
many of our birds v.- .-
untarily perform s:. /
much unexpected i
labor to secure the
welfare of their
broods, let me / r ;I -
ask of the young '
readers of ST. I
in all cases they
will examine the
nests of birds iL "'1
without disturbing
them, and col-
lect them only -
after the birds .
need them no-
longer. Theirstruct- --'
ure and materials
can be studied as
well then as before.
"Let me add, ir,
conclusion, that a
task of much inter- :
est to ornithologist. '-
is to determine hov.
far the nests of ou
birds vary in con-
struction, material-
used, and localitie
chosen. While man-,
of our birds build -
nests throughout v, -:
areas of country, it ; J 1----
not certain, by a-, -
means, that their ne.- -i -- -
ing habits are tl- .
same in Maine and in ',
Maryland, at the Atlantic seaboard and
on the Western prairies. I trust that the
readers of ST. NICHOLAS-and especially the
members of the Agassiz Association-will largely
study this subject, and subsequently compare
notes, being very careful to correctly determine the
species of birds that.have built the nests found."

Birds often foil larger enemies than their feath-
ered foes by some cunning piece of strategy. The
picture on page 530, for instance, illustrates an
odd incident which really happened. A mother-
bird, seeing the cat approaching, and fearing the
loss of her brood, attracted the atten-
tion of the stealthy animal by fly-
; 1.. i ... he fence upon
". .:i r I,:. -twas crouched,
-i ., i rl ., by feigning a
Ir.. i-: n wing and hop-
I along with
S ,-. '.- \ intive chirps
'1st in front of
I._ ,_';, i:?i j :* \ *
I\ er enemy (but
\ always just out
-- .- c ofhisreach),
-r.- Sed in luring
"'"'A '"" him to a safe
1 .i Then she
11 immediately
SAl--i ook to flight,
S.'ianmd by a cir-
c uitous route
S returned to her
-.. est. Bravely
~d r .. r-, little mother !
'. L ere, too, is an
S. a.:.:. l taken from a
r.: a- pl'.,er, of a pitched
iiill!, between some
i-- ..- and a cat, in
.i h i, h ., rIrdylittlewinged
S --.- -r:., .:.rally put Puss
r i-. .
P .rr- %iIt i i. .. recently, a half-
T ".' II ,-'it. e .. lro young sparrow,
1 d 1 .:t w a r.r .f i ... e.1 I '.udly, giving the
i-!h. :m. ..r Itw moments a
: ,, ...... 4 i b..: :elligerent little
.: .:.b- ,-.- .... They swooped
.., 1 .:., r.., ,., I ,,, .: r direction, and,
,Ih..,. i h.: ~I- .. h.:.I i.-, Ib .: k, extended her
i., .i,: I!!.I 1.: .- : 1: ir .: I !--, was overcome e
Au, H-. a i i t-.:.: i .:- i.. i-' to the shelter
S,., -I .-I ,. i _l Ilis did not end
the matter. In the. course of a half-hour Puss
made her entry on.the scene again. But the birds
seem to have put some of their number on picket-
duty, for, as soon as the cat came from her shelter,
the alarm was sounded and the feathered clans
came afresh to the attack in greater force than
ever. Their feline enemy, profiting by past expe-
rience, did not wait to make a fight, but ran as



swiftly as she could to her home, half a square through a hole in the dial, and attempted
away, the sparrows striking her as long as she was to build a nest in the machinery of the
in sight." clock. The slow revolution of the
4 NEST HUNG iii-i ii iI !: '1 ..I 1 .. '

The nestsuspendedby .ir. .i .iin ,,i ...i i.. 1 I II. !.
matched by one built by .. .L i i,, ....
orioles in a tree opposite a r i i ..
the autumn, the limb to wi,.:l I i.., ,
was suspended blew dow., -.. .... .,, I..
and the nest is now preserve :I "- r.. '.,,..I ... ..r
as an evidence of the remarl:- '- '. 'i ...-.
able skill and instinct of the-; f. ..
birds, for it was found .' I
securely fastened to the: -- :..
branch with pieces of "
wire, which they had :..1,
picked out of the .. ... ..
sweepings of the tin- TI
shop. F .
Some of our most fa- '
miliar birds are quick to ..
see and take advantage of iL- 1
fact that the neighborhood ,:. -
men's homes frequently of..
them better protection or I-.. '
rial than the woods and rn. I.-
afford; and a search abo'd!O rL
roofs of large buildings i "I'.
towns often discovers .li.i Jl
homes in the most unexpe.c .: .
places. One correspondent
sends us an account, from.- ,
local newspaper, of

"The old clock in th.-
tower of the First Presbyt:
rian Church, Newark, has "
not been giving correct
time lately. Charles Free-
man, employed by the
Common Council to reg -"'\
ulate the town clocks, .... i i
was puzzled by the antics Vot .c n
ofthe ancient time-piece, r.
and when it came to
a stop recently, heF
decided to give it a 1. ..1,,l-- h--- 1,,
thorough examina- : ,1 .. A ..- ...1 .
tion, In the wheels .. I- ,:- 'a I.. .. ..._ ,
he found a tangled 7
mass of hay, twine, N iii ..u -... -.- every year, flying in at both ends.
grass, cotton, and feathers, amounting to nearly The horn was about forty inches long, and the
half a peck. A pair of birds had entered the tower large end measured nearly twelve inches across."
VoL. X.-34.


George Washington. It was
discovered one day that in the
forehead of this figure a wood-
pecker had bored a hole for
a nest! "


,,,- uX'
--- .. .. ---
-- --- --- -t - ,, ,i,,l'


Mr. Beard adds that: "Very near to the fire- nest
-:.-~~ ~ .. ..-- =


engine house in Covington was the county court- Peri
house, and on its cupola stood a wooden figure of thro

An artist friend sends a pen-
and-ink sketch which he made
of a gargoyle, or ornamental
rain-spout, on the cloven tower
of Heidelberg Castle, on the
Rhine. Gargoyles, as perhaps
you know, are very common
in European architecture, and
sometimes they are modeled
after some portion of the
human figure, and sometimes
after parts of animals. This
gargoyle, as you see in
the picture, represented a
S lion's head. It was carved in
stone, and partly overgrown
with vines. Years ago some
birds, tempted by the shelter
of its great open mouth, built
-a nest there, which, my friend
Says, is mentioned by Mr.
--- -- Longfellow in his Hyperi-
s on," a prose book, in the chap-
ter headed Interlachen."
When the artist wrote, the
was still remaining ii the gargoyle's mouth.
laps some of our readers may be passing
ugh Heidelberg this coming summer, and if





they stop at the castle they should be on the look-
out for this queer home of a pair of birds.

A girl-reader sends us this account of how the
sparrows found the weak spot" in the masonry
and took advantage of it:


The ST. NICHOLAS artist has made sketches also
of two curious nests that were to be seen in New
York City. The first was built upon the arm of a
stone angel which stands in a niche of Trinity
Church. It could be plainly seen by passengers of
the Elevated Railroad as the trains passed the

-t.~ Afl7



* *% .





"One day last summer, we noticed a couple of
S sparrows flying very often to one of the pillars of
our back-piazza, where they seemed to disappear.
We went to investigate, but all we could see was
a few stalks of grass and hay sticking out of a little

:. 1 '^ ,,

"- ing from
S the Rector
street station.
', ,. A NEST IN A CHALICE. The nest was
filled with
young birds when seen by the
friend who wrote to ST. NICHOLAS about it, and
the fledglings appeared to feel the protection of the
angel's arm, and to be in nowise disturbed by the
trumpet, or by the noise and confusion of the great

The other nest was built in a goblet. On the
side of the chapel of St. Luke's Old Ladies'
Home," New York City, is a panel holding the
carved figure of a saint, the carving in high relief.
The figure holds a chalice or goblet in the right
hand, and in the goblet a pair of sparrows have
built a nest, to which they return every year.


hole in the masonry. (It was a flat pillar, right up
against the wall of the house, from the floor to the
roof of the porch.) We watched the place a min-



ute or two, and presently a
sparrow flew right in the
hole--which really did n't
seem to be more than an
inch across; but the bird
went all the way in, out of
sight, and we could hear
the young birds chirping
inside. I suppose the masons must have left a
small cavity there when the house was built, and
that the piazza post covered it all but this little
corner. A pair of sparrows have built in the same
place this year, too. I don't know, of course,
whether or not they are the same ones, but I
should think it highly probable."


Mr. Ernest Ingersoll contributes the following
account of a very curious and ingenious nest built
by a little Asiatic bird:
Of all the hanging nests, commend me to that
made of grass by the baya sparrow of India. It is
one of the most perfect bird-houses I know of, and
seems only to need a fire-place to make it a
real house. Its shape and mode of attachment at
the top to the end of the limb are shown in the
picture. It is entered through the long neck at
the lower end. The bed for the eggs rests in the
bulb or expansion at the middle of the nest, where
there are actually two rooms, for the male has a
perch divided off from the female by a little par-
tition, where he may sit and sing to her in rainy
weather, or when the sun shines very hot, and
where he may rest at night. The walls are a firm
lattice-work of grass, neatly woven together, which
permits the air to pass through, but does not allow
the birds to be seen. The whole nest is from four-
teen to eighteen inches long, and six inches wide
at the thickest part. It is hung low over the
water,-why, we shall presently see,-and its only
entrance is through the hanging neck.
"Why do birds build hanging nests?
"Those birds that do make hanging nests, un-
doubtedly do it because they think them the
safest. Birds' eggs are delicacies on the bill of
fare of several animals, and are eagerly sought by
them. Snakes, for instance, live almost entirely
upon them, during the month of June; squirrels
eat them, raccoons also, and opossums, cats, rats,
and mice. But none of these animals could creep
out to the pliant, wavy ends of the willow branches
or elm twigs, and cling there long enough to get at
the contents of a Baltimore oriole's nest.
"In the country where the baya sparrow lives,
there are snakes and opossums, and all the rest of
the egg-eaters; and in addition there are troops

of monkeys, which are more to be feared than all
the rest together. Monkeys are wonderfully ex-
pert climbers, from whom the eggs in an ordinary
open-top pouch nest, like the oriole's, would not
be secure; for if they can get anywhere near, they
will reach their long, slender fingers down inside
the nest. The baya sparrow discovered this, and
learned to build a nest inclosed on all sides, and to
enter it from underneath by a neck too long for a
monkey to conveniently reach up through. Beside
this, she took the precaution to hang it out on the
very tips of light branches, upon which she thought
no robber would dare trust himself. But she found
that the monkeys knew a trick worth two o' that.'
They would go to a higher limb which was strong,
and one would let himself down from it, grasping it
firmly with his hands; then another monkey would
crawl down and hold on to the heels of the first
one, another would go below him, and so on until
several were hanging to each other, and the lowest
one could reach the sparrow's treasures. Hewould
eat them all himself, and then one by one they
would climb up over each other; and last of all
the tired first one, who had been holding up
the weight of all the rest, would get up, too, and
all would go noisily off in search of fresh plunder,
which, I suppose, would be given to a different one,
the rest making a ladder for him as before.


Now L '1-- I

ning baya -I'
row saw a .
to avoid e, ..
this dan:- '
ous tricky .. I-.. I
knew thb ,t [l,.: r.- "' li'
was nothi. I .
monkey I -.I- .- .
so terribly as to
get his sleek coat wet. He would rather go hun-
gry. So she hung her nest over the water close to
the surface, and the agile thieves do not dare make
a chain long enough to enable the last one to.
reach up into her nest from below, as he must do,
for fear that the springy branches might bend so
far as to souse them into the water.
"The sparrow has fairly outwitted the mon-
key "




-> -


A TRAVELING NEST. crossed a ferry as regularly as the boat came and
I. M., a Western friend, sends us a description The Cedar River, though quite wide at Mus-
of a nest built in a very peculiar place, and which catine, is very shallow, and ferry-boats are run


across by means of wire ropes
stretched from one bank to
the other. A block and pul-
ley slip along the wire, and
from each end of the boat
comes a rope which is fast-
ened to the block. By means
of these ropes, the boat is
inclined to the current in
such a manner that the
force of the stream drives
the boat across without the
use of oars,
paddles, or
"On this
traveling- .
block a pair
of birds
built their
nest, and
reared a
brood of
young. The
boat cross-
ed at all
times of the
day and
night, and

-- -- -<1






at every trip
the block, with the nest on it, would go rattling
across on the iron cable, high above the water.
The nest was well guarded by the ferry-man, and
was the marvel of all who saw it."

We shall conclude our curious items about birds
with an advertisement (in rhyme) which one of our
correspondents has addressed to the birds them-

To RENT for the summer, or longer, if wanted,
A fine lot of old nests-not one of them haunted:
All built by day's work in the very best manner -
Some Swiss and some Dutch and some a la Queen Anna.

By title direct from Dame Nature I hold,
And until I am felled not a stick shall be sold;
The plan I pursue is to lease-don't you see?-
With a clause that improvements shall follow the fee.

In size the nests vary-but each has a perch:
Some are swung like a hammock, some firm as a church.

With views unsurpassed, and the balmiest breezes,
We 're free from malaria and kindred diseases.

We do have mosquitoes-the truth must be told;
But in making this public I feel very bold,
For the tenants I'm seeking will know how to treat
And if they are saucy, without sauce they 'll eat 'em.

My neighbor, the farmer, just over the way,
Has an elegant barn where, without any pay,
I welcome my tenants to all they can eat
Of corn or of hay-seed, of oats or buckwheat.

To suitable parties my charges are low
(You 'll excuse if I ask for a reference or so).
I'm sure you 'll not think me exclusive or proud,
But approve of my maxim, No SPARROWS ALLOWED."

For terms and conditions, if such you require,
Drop a line to the owner, Rock Maple, Esquire
(If you write, just address to ST. NICHOLAS' care),
Or call at the Tree-top--he 's sure to be there.




\;I -~i.






"I TELL you he 's risin', Jack, shuah 's you 's
bawn! "
Crabapple Jackson, a stout negro lad, born in
Kentucky, and twelve years old, had climbed to
the top of the cabin of his employer (who lived in
the lowlands of Arkansas), and, standing erect,
while he steadied himself by placing one hand
on the stone chimney, he looked anxiously toward
the Mississippi.
Jack Lawrence, the son of Crabapple's employer,
and a year younger than the negro boy, also
made his way up the steep incline of the roof, and
a minute later stood beside "Crab," as he was
always called.
The Father of Waters, when he staid in his
bed, was more than four miles away; but on that
day in March, 1882, he showed a disposition to
leave his couch and wander over the adjoining
Young Jack Lawrence, having placed himself
near Crab, surveyed the alarming sight of the
rising waters. They had noticed that morning
that the Mississippi was unusually high, but at
first had felt no anxiety, for a rise of the great river
comes as regularly as the return of spring.
There were only three persons in the house at
this time-Jack, Crabapple, and Dollie, two years
younger than her brother. Archibald Lawrence,
the father of Jack and Dollie, was absent in Ken-
tucky; the mother had been dead more than a
year; and Dinah, the cook and general superin-
tendent of the household, was down in Alabama,
visiting her friends and relatives, who were almost
beyond enumeration.
The great flood of 1874 had swept over the little
plantation now occupied by Archibald Lawrence,
but that was before he moved thither from Ken-
tucky, so that all the family knew about it came
from hearsay.
"I tell you he's risin', Jack! repeated Crab-
apple, after the two had stood side by side for
several minutes.
"You are right; but the water is a half-mile
away, and we are several feet above it," said Jack.
"It don't take de ole riber long to climb up
dem free, four feet-you can jes' make up your
mind to dat," was Crab's cheerful reply.

"Well, Crab, what is best to be done? Shall
we take to the high ground back of us ?"

That was the question which the two boys had
been thinking over and talking about during the
afternoon. There were three mules, two cows, a
number of pigs and fowls, beside the children
themselves, who would be caught in a dangerous
predicament if the river overflowed its bank much
more extensively than it had already done. Jack
had even taken one of the mules, and, pounding his
heels against his iron ribs, ridden on a gallop to
the nearest neighbor, who lived about the same
distance from the Mississippi, to ask his counsel.
Colonel Carrolton had floated down to Vicksburg
on a hen-coop during the flood of '74, since which
time he had been looked uporn as an authority on
The Colonel was anxious, and news had come
which caused him to fear that an immense destruc-
tion of property was inevitable; but he was hope-
ful that the river would not reach the house of Mr.
Lawrence nor his own; at any rate, he was not
going to make any move of his stock until the
morrow. He was satisfied that it was safe to wait
till the next morning, aind he so said to young
Lawrence. Thereupon Jack had pointed the head
of his mule toward home, and begun pounding his
ribs again. The animal struck into a trot, which,
somehow or other, was so managed that he was
always going up just as Jack was coming down, and
vice versd. The lad had found himself so jolted
and bruised by this strategy of the mule that he
had been forced to bring him down to a walk.
When the boy made his report to Dollie and
Crab, they were greatly relieved; but it can not
be said that the words of Colonel Carrolton had
brought full assurance, for the fact remained that
the river was steadily rising, and no one could say
when it would stop.

Crabapple Jackson was the most anxious, for the
stories which had reached his ears of flood and

disaster along the Mississippi had magnified them-
selves in his imagination, until he dreaded the over-
flow more than any other danger. After feeding the
stock, Crab, as already stated, had climbed upon
the roof of the cabin, and, making his way to the
peak, had taken a survey of the river. A careful
study of landmarks soon told him that the stream
had risen perceptibly within the past hour, and


that it was still creeping upward. Between the
home of Archibald Lawrence and the river were
numerous trees and quite a stretch of pine timber.
When Crab had studied these bowing, swaying
tops for some little time, he knew he had made no
mistake. Jack Lawrence required but a few min-
utes to assure himself on the same point, and then
the two talked earnestly together.
"I think we might as well start for the back
country," said Jack, still standing beside the chim-
ney, and looking out upon the vast inland sea
sweeping southward.
"We 've got to go a good six miles afore we
strike de high -ground back ob Gin'ral Johnson's,
and I reckon dat we wont be safe till we get dar."
The country rises all the way, Crab; so that
we ought to reach a place short of that where the
river is in no danger of following."
But Crab turned toward his young master, and
shook his head, his huge ti-l1....;,; hat giving
emphasis to the shake.
I tole you if de riber gets a start it is n't a-gwine
to stop short ob Gin'ral Johnson's plantation, and
dere is a good deal ob lowlands a-tween here and
"If that is so, we may as well stay here till
morning, for we can't get to his place till long
after dark."
"I guess you 's 'bout right," assented Crab,
again turning his gaze upon the flood.
Jack staid but a few-minutes longer, and then
he crawled back toward the roof of the shed ad-
joining, upon which he dropped, and leaped to
the ground, where Dollie was awaiting him.
I think we shall have to move to-morrow," said
he, in answer to her anxious questions, "but we
are safe until then."
Dollie, like all younger sisters, accepted the word
of her big brother as infallible, and, passing into
the house, began making ready the supper, un-
disturbed by a fear of what was coming.
Nowhere in the world is more delicious corn-
bread prepared than in Missouri and Arkansas.
The climate and soil unite to produce this golden
staple of food-alike appetizing and nutritious.
Dollie set to work to bake some bread and to fry
some bacon, when Jack looked in upon her.
"Dollie," said he in an undertone, as if afraid
some one would hear him, while you 're about it,
get enough bread and bacon ready to last several
"What for?" asked the little girl, turning her
big blue eyes on him in surprise.
"We may not want it; but if we do, we shall
want it badly."
It will be better if I make it fresh every day."
"But you may not have the chance: if the river

reaches the house before we are out of the way,
we shall have no time to cook any food. Mind,
Dollie, I don't think it will, but it 's best to be
ready. I'll help you."
Oh, I don't mind the trouble," said the in-
dustrious little maid-of-all-work, moving briskly
hither and thither, pushing her big brother to the
right and left, and asking him to please keep
out of her way.
The fire was kept very hot, and until long after
dark Jack and Crabapple helped Dollie prepare
rations for the necessity which they hoped would
never arise.
. Just before night closed in, Jack walked to the
edge of the river.to take a last survey. He stood
within a yard or so of the muddy stream, and
looked out upon the immense expanse, covered
with trees, limbs, logs, cabins, and debris sweeping
downward toward the Gulf of Mexico, all wear-
ing a strange, uncanny look in the deepening
All at once his feet felt cold, as though ice had
touched them. Looking down, he found that he
had become an island, for the water was flowing
around his shoes, and several inches back of them.
My gracious how fast it is rising! he said
to himself, hurrying toward the house again.
At the barn he stopped long enough to untie the
mules and take them from the stable; the cows
were already outside, where, if the flood should
reach them, they would not be handicapped in any
I wish I had n't taken Colonel Carrolton's ad-
vice," thought Jack as he went into: the cabin;
"we ought to have started back for the highlands
hours ago."



JUST a half-century ago, that great philologist
and traveler, Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, came upon
a beautiful sheet of water in north-western Min-
nesota, at an elevation of three-fourths of a mile
above the sea level. The lake was walled in by
picturesque hills, and the outlet through which
the clear, cold waters flowed to the sea, thousands
of miles away, was twelve feet wide and a foot and
a half deep. There are other lakes as lovely as
Itasca, in Minnesota,-the "land of the sky-tinted
water," according to the Indian legend,-but they
can never be so famous, for it is the source of the
mightiest river of the globe.
The Miche Sefe, as the aborigines called the
Mississippi, drains with its tributaries one-seventh
of the North American continent. Its length, from


Itasca to the Gulf of Mexico, is more than one-
eighth of the distance around the world, and its
basin exceeds a million square miles. Its crystal-
like current is tainted by the whitish
mud of the Missouri, the red ocher of
the Arkansas and Red rivers, and the
emerald hue of the Ohio; while it is
forever bringing down and pouring in-
to the Gulf a prodigious
m ass of ,f l. i ,,. .
vegetair... i':
of w hi: l, 1, ,,-,: ,.,,.:.- I -,b-.

made -,rf rV.: i.i..I.I: li, ,, IM.i

dreading the worst, and as helpless when it comes
as is the mountaineer who dwells in the shadow of
the volcano or in the path of the avalanche.
In the spring of 1879, Archibald Law-
rence moved from Kentucky to the
lowlands of Arkansas, taking with him
his wife Margery, Jack, Dollie, Dinah
: the cook, and the negro lad, Crabap-
ple Jackson. The home selected lay
"- ,'.[ ... -,.. 1V ..- -; ,; ,d the

Y ..--- -' .. ,,...... C,, rock-
i, ng to
of the ,.-,un '. -.- r.. i-i n.1 .: r. rI. oi north-
try. Capt _- .- ,I .. .. r,.. s gen-
Eads -. -i .. ,,.- .. : .id, as
to a c!ii.ir, ,"L' i..: ... r build-
extent. I. '.'' .r ii. l.. [.- u i,.:i.:I acres
means .T he p cOe-, ,', Id' i hd T s Ii -. a LI an, hie had
deepe, .i .. ev.e i t .e pio e ..,irt, rh.is.. ... IC o.ing he
of the : i ti .. i..r is .. ui, th ai,. l.-1.. i..: r-! i r l an in

schargen.- ... .y t ., ... i, h g i .. i y and
stoppedl iii hi i -i. I.-.II'..-i.. i-l.. There
the mln,!.:: ..i i. . r,- 3.1- 1.H.- .:. ._ bitter
in g de-i r, .... .. .1..: t. .... : ..- .:. ., ,l, .: w ere
to th e ..,t. ... _.. i ,: r ', .... arrr.. I'.. ",.1 .I,. L ., .ren ce,
hamlet,, unId laLtatiuna aioulg -- who. had bee wi0 G'nestal ili hias, in
its banks. The peril comes periodically, and has Tennessee, enjoyed many a smoke and chat with
existed ever since the pioneer built his cabin within the grizzly old Confederates of "Arkansaw," while
a day's ride of the Mississippi. But the planter and they fought the old battles over again.
settler can only toil and spin, hoping for the best but On his farm or plantation Mr. Lawrence raised



cotton, corn, sweet potatoes, and melons; and,
believing the climate and soil suitable for fruit, he
gave much care to the culture of peaches, apples,
pears, and grapes. Care and intelligence brought

-- - .- -.

-..... I



success. The fame of his fruit-farm spread, and
he was visited by many who went home and
attempted the same thing, some on a larger and
some on a smaller scale. The cultivation of
fancy fruit soon became a favorite pursuit in many
parts of Arkansas.
"A few more years," said the Kentuckian to his
wife, as they sat on the bench in front of their
cabin, "and we shall reap the reward of our
"We have toiled hard, Archibald," replied his
wife; "but the toil was lightened by love, and,
therefore, it was blessed."
Labor is always more pleasant than idleness,


have done well in the way of teaching them, but
it is imposing too much on you, and they are enti-
tled to greater advantages than we can give them."
Husband and wife discussed their future with
the confidence which we all show; but, within a
few weeks, the devoted wife and mother lay down
upon the bed from which she was never to rise.
Her death spoiled all the plans and hopes of
Mr. Lawrence, who determined to sell his place
and move back to Kentucky. He was absent on
that business in the month of March, 1882, which
explains how the two children, Jack and Dollie,
were left for a fortnight in the cabin with only
Crab to keep them company.
But to return to our story. When the candles
had been lighted and the doors all closed, the
three anxiously discussed the situation. They
had prepared a plentiful supply of food, which
was placed in a bag and carried to the second
story. They decided to keep on their clothing,
and to stick to the cabin, which was so well
put together that, if the flood did come, it would
buoy them up. Jack owned a skiff which he
always kept along the river's margin, but that
had been swept away long before; indeed, a frail
vessel like that would have been less secure than
a strong raft, such as the cabin would make.
"De bestest ting dat we kin do am dis-"
said Crab, who thereupon stopped, inhaled a deep
breath, and waited for the others to ask him to
explain. They did so by their looks.
"Dat am, for me to go on top de roof and
What good will that do ?" demanded Jack.
I can let you know how things are gwine, so
you wont be took by s'prise."


Margery, especially as, in our case, the reward is Jack could not see clearly what advantage would
already in sight. A couple of years more, and be gained by the African perching himself there,
Jack and Dollie must be sent away to school. You and suspected that the true reason was because


he believed it was the safest place, in case the
floods came. Crab proved the appropriateness of
his name by climbing to the roof of the lower part
of the cabin, from which he easily made his way to
that of the main one, finally establishing himself
in his old position by the side of the chimney.
Do you think the water will reach us be-
fore morning ? asked Dollie, who again became
alarmed over the preparations she had been help-
ing to make for the last hour and more.
I hardly know what to think, Dollie; I expect
the river will be close to us, though I hope we shall
be able to get the stock off when daylight comes."
What will become of us ? asked Dollie.
"We shall have to go with them, of course.
General Johnson and the other neighbors will aid
us until we can hear from Papa," said Jack.
"Has the river ever been much higher than
now? continued his sister.
"You have heard them tell of the great flood
of 1874, when it was much higher."
"Then it must have covered all the land
around us ? replied Dollie, anxiously.
"Yes, and a good way back in the country.
You see, we are between two rivers,-the White
and the Mississippi,- and both are very high. If
they continue to rise, why-we shall have to float
off with the cabin."
"And then what will become of us?" asked
Dollie, with I'r-.i.[ eyes.
It is a long way to New Orleans; but there are
a good many towns and people along the shores.
Besides, the steamers will be on the lookout for
persons adrift. I don't like the prospect of starting
down the Mississippi at night on the top of a log
cabin; but a good many have done it, and never
been the worse. You know Colonel Carrolton
went all the way to Vicksburg, clinging to a hen-
coop. There was an old rooster inside, which he
meant should be his companion all the way, but
the Colonel finally became so hungry, that he
wrung his neck and ate him raw."
Pretty little Dollie Lawrence turned up her nose
at the thought of eating uncooked chicken, for she
could not see how any one could be hungry enough
to do that.
If the water reaches the first floor, we will go
upstairs," added her brother; and, if it gets up
to the second story, why, we shall have to take to
the roof."
Suppose it reaches the roof?"
"Before it gets that high we shall be afloat-
heigho "
The boy and girl started up, for just then they
heard a strange sliding noise overhead, followed
by a resounding blow on the roof of the kitchen
and then a solid thump on the ground. Dollie

caught up the candle and ran to the door,
Jack at her elbow. As the light was held aloft,
they saw Crabapple Jackson rising to his feet in a
confused way, as though he hardly understood
what had happened.
What 's the matter?" asked Jack.
I guess I must have been 'sleep," said Crab,
walking unsteadily toward the door, which he
entered, the others passing inside with him.
"Yes, dat was it," he added, brightening up;
"I got asleep when I was n't tinkin', and rolled
off de roof."
"Did n't it hurt you?" asked Dollie in much
"Not a bit," was the cheery reply, "but I
thought it was goin' to be de last ob me."



"ARE you going back to the roof?" asked Jack,
unable to keep from laughing at Crab's mishap.
No ; I don't tink dat's de right kind ob bed to
sleep in. If you go to turn ober, you roll off, and
besides, I could n't find any piller to lay my head
The front door of the cabin had been left open.
There were in this portion but two rooms on the
first floor, the rear door facing the river. Dollie
walked to the latter, opened it, and held the can-
dle above her head, but the draught was so strong
that it was puffed out before she could use her
eyes, and the three were left in darkness. It was
quickly relit, but during the brief time taken in
doing so all three had caught an alarming sound:
it was that made by water forcing its way among
the trees, close to the house. Cautioning his sister
to keep the light away from the draught, Jack
stepped out of the rear door, and began carefully
groping his way toward the barn, which lay in the
direction of the river. The rush and roar of the
muddy current was in his ears, and he had gone
less than half the distance when his shoes splashed
in the water--the Mississippi was at their very
door, and had already surrounded the barn. It had
risen, and was still rising, with alarming rapidity;
a few minutes more and it must reach the house.
Jack Lawrence turned about and dashed back
to where Dollie and Crab were eagerly awaiting
him. His frightened looks told the news before
he spoke.
It wont do to wait any longer," said he; we
must start for the back country at once."
This declaration was a surprise, for up to that
moment Jack had given the impression that he




meant to stay by the cabin and share its fortune.
But the certainty that the great, surging river was
creeping up upon them filled all three with a natu-
ral anxiety to get beyond its grasp. They sprang
up, and were about to rush out of the door, when
Jack asked them to wait a minute.
We must take a little food with us," said he.
"We don't need it all, but I will get a ham."
He ran upstairs in a twinkling, and shortly re-
turned with the article which was so likely to prove
Can't we take the candle ? asked Dollie, who
shuddered as she gazed out on the dark night,
which was without any moon or stars. "If we
don't, we shall get lost."
The three looked in one another's faces in aston-
ishment: why had they not thought of it before ?
They had a lantern in the house which had been
used many times. It was in the kitchen, and was
brought out by Crab, who made a dash for it,
returning in a few seconds. Then the candle
which was on the table was lifted out of the stick
and placed in the lantern, which was taken charge
of by Jack, who led the way, with Dollie and Crab
following close behind him. The door of the
house was shut, and, swinging the light like a
switchman signaling a train, the young leader
moved away from the building. Less than a hun-
dred yards distant ran the highway, parallel with
the river, and at right angles to the course they
were following. This highway, if followed some
twenty miles, would take them to Helena, which
stands on a high bluff, overlooking the Mississippi;
to the south it would have led them to Arkansas
Post, or, as it is more generally known, Arkansas
City, a journey which would compel them to cross
the White River. The road was no more than
reached when all three received the greatest fright
that had yet come to them: the highway was
found to be full of water that was running like a
mill-stream. The slight depression, which they had
never noticed, was enough to open the path for
the overflowing current before it reached the build-
ing, although the latter was nearer the river-bank.
The little party paused, with their feet almost in
the water, and Jack held the lantern above his
head. As he did so, they saw the current as far in
front as their vision penetrated.
"It's no use," said Jack; "we 're too late."
What shall we do ?" asked Dollie, showing a dis-
position to nestle closer to her big brother and cry.
"Dar 's only one ting dat we can do," was the
sensible remark of Crab, who turned about and ran
in the direction of the house.
The others were not far behind him. They
quickly reached the porch, over which they scam-
pered, and dashed through the door, the latch-

string of which was hanging out. They did not
fail to notice one important fact: they stepped in
water where there was none when they had left
but a few minutes before, and an ominous splashing
was heard in the yard of the building itself. The
Mississippi was already knocking at their door, and
could not be kept out much longer.
All this was plain enough, but the children were
not without a strong hope that the cabin would
keep its base until the danger passed. It must
have required a stupendous increase to raise the
river the few feet shown during the last few hours,
for the expansion was enormous. A proportion-
ately greater volume would be necessary to bring
it over the floor of the structure.
I don't think it will be lifted off its foundation
until the water is pretty well to the second floor,"
said Jack; and it will be a wonderful thing if it
reaches thal point."
But as they talked they could hear the eddying
of the current around the corners of the house, and
against the porch and trees-the swish and wash
showing that it was rising faster, if possible, than
ever. The lantern was placed on the table, and
its dull light added to the impressiveness of the
scene. Dollie looked at the furniture,-the chairs,
the table, the stand, the pictures, the gun resting
on the deer-prongs over the mantel-piece, every-
thing,- and wondered whether, in case the building
itself should swing loose from its foundations, and
go drifting over this wild inland sea, all these would
stay together and be restored to her father again.
"Heaven take care of Papa !" was her childish
petition, as she thought of her loved parent. I 'm
glad he does n't know where Jack and I are to-
night, for he would be so worried he could n't
sleep. Dear God, please take care of Jack, and
Crab, and me," she added, reverently, as she never
failed to do when kneeling at her bedside; "and
don't let us drown in the Mississippi."
It was the simple, trusting prayer of childhood,
but like petitions trembled that night on the lips
of hundreds along the banks of the great river;
for a danger which they always dreaded was creep-
ing stealthily and surely upon them.

"WE 'RE OFF !"
THE situation of Jack and Dollie Lawrence and
Crab Jackson could hardly have been more dismal.
They hoped that the river would not rise high
enough to carry away the house, and yet there
was reason to fear it would do so. Jack was like
a physician, who notes the pulse of his patient:
sitting in his chair, he was awaiting the jar which
he dreaded to feel, but which was sure to come




sooner or later. There was little that could be said
to comfort one another, and all held their peace.
Dollie was on her own chair, beside her brother,
while her arm rested on his knee. She looked
steadily at the yellow candle burning inside the
lantern, and listened to the flow of the waters
outside. All had clothed themselves warmly, for,
though the weather was not severe, they were wise
enough to make full preparations against it. They
had on shoes and stockings, though Crab would have
preferred to go barefoot, and sturdily refused to don

rig up in fust-class style; if it was n't for dat, I
would n't wear dese pesterin' shoes, dat grow
shorter ebery day."
He intended to take his .oat with him, if the
cabin should start on its .-. so that he could
don it whenever the necessity should arise.
It will take four or five feet more," said Jack,
speaking as much to himself as to Dollie. It
seems impossible; and yet, it keeps creeping up,
up, up, all the time--
"See their e!"
As Jack uttered this exclamation, he

.. i : : .- ... -1i th e

3.,,-. .1 ,-I... .. I .,-h. .. ,.. bhair
I C- U' I i"

ti- ''' i ,! "' u -, (i ir.,her,
:"t _:. ,i 1, i,2 L !, 'l !.~ L- 'o r

!( ''i. [.L !,E,~['. -~,' lLt i e


the rather dilapidated coat which he wore in winter.
His baggy trousers were held in place by a single
suspender, which was skewered at the rear by a
tenpenny nail, the extra length of the band flap-
ping in the wind. This unequal support of his
trousers gave Crab a lop-sided look, which he did
not mind. His shirt was of the "hickory" variety,
and quite clean. Crab had put it on that after-
noon, when he learned there was a likelihood of
the flood coming upon them.
Dar's no telling whar 't will land us," he mused,
as he worked and tugged with his shoes. "We may
strike Vicksburg, or Natchez, or New Orleans, or
may be dar '11 come a whirlpool dat will land us up
de riber at Cairo, and it's my belief dat I 'd better

then pushed its head gently forward a few inches
more, and then paused again.
Jack at first thought it was a serpent stealing in
upon them, and he was about to spring up for the
gun, when he observed that it was a tiny stream of
water forcing its way into the room. This showed
that the current was more than a foot deep all
around the house. In the kitchen, where the floor
was lower, it must have entered some time before.
Having reached the larger room, it appeared in a
dozen places within the next three minutes, coming
through the cracks of the floor and from all the
corners and knot-holes.
It's time to go upstairs," said Jack. "Come,
Crab. it wont do to stay here any longer."


"Did you ever?" exclaimed Dollie. "He's
sound asleep "
Crab's big round straw hat had fallen to the
floor, and his head *. lying over the back of his

.- n --_

- ._' _--2 := -r 4.i -

Her brother took the hint and brought it upstairs,
though at the same time remarking that he did
not think they should need it. They took good
care not to forget the bag of provisions.


chair. His mouth was very wide open and his
eyes closed. There could be no doubt he was
sunk in slumber, though his breathing was no
deeper than usual. Jack shook him by the
shoulder. The drowsy fellow opened his eyes,
and when he saw Jack take the lantern from the
table and start up the short stairs, followed by
Dollie, he knew what it meant.
Qu'ar dat I can't shet my eyes but dat some-
body must roll me off de house or wake me up."
While uttering this plaint, he had picked his hat
from the floor and was in the second story almost
as soon as the others. There were two rooms
used for sleeping purposes, the quarters of Crab
and Dinah being over the kitchen. From the
apartment belonging to Mr. Lawrence a trap-door
opened to the roof, but the boys would never
have dared use it, unless under the stress of some
great necessity like the present one. All that re-
mained was to sit down and wait and watch and
pray. Crab was so very wide awake, that he felt
as though he could not sleep for a week to come.
The children knew well enough that it would never
do for them to stay where they were, in case the
house should be lifted from its base, for the water
would be sure to fill that room. Therefore, Jack
stepped upon a chair and pushed the trap-door
back, so that, when necessary, they could pass
through and place themselves on the upper sur-
face of what would then become a raft. When
this was done, Dollie asked him why he did n't
bring the gun from below, as they might need it.

I feels hungry already," said Crab, looking
wistfully at the valuable property.
You can keep on feeling hungry," said Jack,
"for you don't get anything to eat before to-
morrow morning."
Crab sighed, but said nothing, for though older
than his young master, he never resisted him.
The rush of the water against the house sounded
loudly in their ears, and, more than once, they felt
the structure tremble from top to bottom: there
could be no doubt now in the minds of all that it
would soon be afloat. Jack walked to the head of
the stairs and held the lantern so that he could
look down the steps.
It 's half-way to this floor," said he, "and we
sha'n't have to wait long."
"Here we go! exclaimed Crab, springing up
from the chair on which he had been sitting;
"let's run out on de roof! "
Jack was on the point of leading the way, when
he perceived that Crab had been mistaken: the
cabin still remained firm. But a crashing, grind-
ing splintering was heard, which they at once knew
was caused by the wrenching off of the other part
of the building. There was less weight to that,
and it had swung loose and gone down the river.
The children trembled, for nothing was more cer-
tain than that the larger part of the house would
soon follow.
I don't think it will do to wait any longer,"
said Jack, for, when it starts, it will go with a
rush, and we may have no time to get out of a



very bad place. I'll climb up first, then I '11 help
Dollie up, and Crab can follow."
"Hurry up," said the negro; "for, if dar aint
much time, den dar aint any time to fool away."
This was self-evident, and Jack Lawrence acted
upon the hint. He easily drew himself up through
the trap-door, and, making his seat secure, reached
down and pulled up Dollie after him. She was
timid when she found herself on the roof, but
she meant to be brave, and, though the roof
inclined considerably, she took the lantern and
felt safe for the time. Then the gun, provisions,
and some articles of clothing were passed up
by Crab, who clamored for more haste. Jack
gave him his hand, but just as Crab reached up-
ward, the chair on which he was standing tipped
over, and he came near dragging Jack down with

him. But Crab kicked the air vigorously for a
minute or two, while Jack stoutly held on, and at
last the boy came through the opening, where
Dollie sat, lantern in hands waiting him.
Now that we are all here," said Jack, "let's
move up nearer the chimney, where we 'll be
farthest from the water.
The proposal was acted upon, and a few minutes
after the three were on the peak of the roof; but,
as there was some doubt whether the chimney
would keep the building company, they kept at a
prudent distance from it, fearing that it might make
things unpleasant when the crisis should come.
"We've done all we could," said Jack, "and I
don't think we shall have to wait long-
"Hello! we 're of!"
This time Crabapple Jackson was right.

(7T be cnmtinulc )






YEARS ago, the writer was invited to deliver a
lecture before a number of friends. Being at a
loss for a subject, he concluded to take no subject,
but simply to draw some large cartoons in chalk,
and entertain his audience by developing pictures
before their eyes. Naturally, as the pictures grew
they suggested explanatory remarks, jokes, inci-
dents, and stories; in short, there was so much
talk mixed in with the pictures that, as the enter-
tainment had no other name, it came to be known
as Chalk Talk."
Ten years of travel through the United States,
and much pleasant visiting among young people,
with unusual opportunities of observing their in-
clinations and latent talents, suggests the idea that
many only need a little direction to be able to
amuse themselves and their friends by Chalk
Talks" of their own.
Of course, it is not the purpose of this article to
give a systematic lesson in drawing. There are
already plenty of good works on this subject, and
we desire only to stimulate the fancy and creative
faculty by giving practical hints in the use of
charcoal and chalk.
Every family in which there are ).-. '!A ........
should have a blackboard of some kind. They
may be bought of all sorts and sizes, or they can be
manufactured at home. A piece of smooth board,
covered with two coatings of liquid slating, sand-
papered when dry, will give an excellent surface;
but the best is the lapinum cloth. This comes
prepared for writing on both sides, and by cover-
ing a smooth board of the requisite size with a
layer of paper upon its face, and then tacking the
lapinum over the paper, the result is as soft and
pleasant a surface to draw on as could be desired.
Having prepared the board and furnished our-

selves with chalk, we naturally ask, What shall
I draw? Draw? Why, draw anything, so that
it is amusing; and almost anything can be made
amusing. But, for all that, we had better not
begin with a telegraph pole or a bale of cotton,
because it requires too much real hard study to get
much amusement out of these. Let us take some-
thing which has expression and character. Try a
pig. But before we begin, let us consider what
the animal shall be doing or thinking about-for
the supposition is that even a pig thinks; and just
as surely as he thinks, he thinks about something
to eat. Now we have often observed the attitude
of attention which the pig assumes as he hears the
familiar cry of "Piggy! piggy piggy! which
summons him to his repast of swill, and we can
suggest the expression with a few lines in a
very simple way. Thus: Now let us draw him as
he appears when,

benevolent inten-
tions of the caller,
S he trots off content-
*edly to his dinner.
We can do this if we choose by using the very
same lines and reversing the figure.
Such things we can do very quickly; and if we
wish to amuse, we must always do our work
rapidly, studying to Q
use no more lines
than are absolutely I
necessary to pro-
duce the expression
we desire to con-
vey. The following illustrations are a few exam-
ples of how character can be suggested with very
little work.



In designing and drawing such slight outlines,
it is well to consider the different lines used by
themselves, and, remembering their proper places,


the figure can be drawn in an astonishingly
short time. For instance, take the owl:
SFirst, as shown below, we have three sim-
ple lines then the circles wlhirh m!qlr the
eye :. .. .., -
sp c ..i :. : .,, 1.
the i i. ii i- I... rl.i
legs, finis -.-. 11.. ..:
and w e h -, : r1. ... I .".. -i: i :
Thus v...- ....
the illusti ,.....- ...!. _. : -
ing a litt ... .
nuity, des.. r..:
ones, by !.I -.:. *
before us .l
picture ol

like the accompanying outline sketch. But we
can simplify the figure, and draw it more rap-
idly, by merely making an
arc for the back, and a
horizontal line for the
under-side. Now we
will put in the eyes,
ears, tail, and legs,
and we have a pretty
fair mouse, as shown by the small diagrams below.
From the same outline we might make a num-
ber of other objects: a fish, a turtle, and, no doubt,
n1-n" .lliri.lis things.
TI, : e that, if
I.:.,,. to draw
,I.' II, m ust use
S, !,..aracte
i -, !- character


i. .,i I,.I...:t, every-
H1,h,_ -. !..,,ds on the
I.,,,. *i h ..i. sed. We
i. 1, -.- specially
. ,,,: !,, he use of
,-,, .:. ,,,.I singles, as
i11.. !."..:3 entirely


something that we wish to draw, and simplifying
the original. Take any picture of a mouse, such
as may be found in common school-books. After

studying the form of
the animal until we
perceive the general / (
lines which give it char- .7 21
acter, we will soon come |
to the conclusion that 1\/\

diff:..i i- 1,i..: Straight lines and angles in
an .,,!.,il i,,. awkwardness, harshness, sharp-

ness, etc., while the curved lines
indicate grace and freedom.
Take, for example, the skater. First we have an
adept in the art. See


there is nothing very difficult to be accomplished, how gracefully he glides over the frozen surface of
Our first trial will probably result in something the lake, and observe the tracks which he leaves
VOL. X.-35-



behind him-all beautiful curves. Now see the
awkward learner, and notice how angular are the
positions which he assumes. Examine the tracks
left by his skates.
Again, take the horse as an example: What a
beautiful animal when in good condition, and how
soft the curves which constitute the outlines But
when we draw the horse with straight lines and
angles, we give at once the impression of awkward-
ness and debility. We may also illustrate the dif-
ferent character of curves and angles by the features
of an old man and those of a child.
After learning to draw simple outlines, the en-

tertainment can be made much more interesting
by introducing transformations of various kinds.
In order to do this, we may select some outline
that will admit of a number of changes. Here,
for example, is a form which suggests nothing in
particular, and is apparently without interest; but,
by exercising a little ingenuity, we can easily make
from it, as you see, a number of funny things.


/* J : .: I

It really makes little difference what outline we
choose, but to illustrate further let us examine
another figure and some of the possibilities it
presents, which can be seen on the next page.
We may even take the alphabet, thus: "A is
for Artist," and with a few strokes of the crayon
we have the artist himself.
"B stands for Butterfly," and with a little ad-
dition we have the butterfly.
C stands for Caterpillar,"-and so on.
Thus we could go through the whole alphabet,
transforming the letters into odd representations of
the objects they stand for. But we need the room

for other things, and if too much is told there will
be nothing left for the ingenuity of the reader to
Much amusement may be derived from queer
illustrations of Mother Goose rhymes, and the in-
terest could be greatly increased by the introduc-
tion of transformations to suit the changes of the
story. For instance:



There was a man in our town,
Who was so wondrous wise
He made himself a big balloon,
To sail up in the skies.

Draw on the board an outline of the balloon.

Before he made his final trip,
He thought he 'd try it first;
But ere he got up forty rods,
The horrid thing it burst

Draw a number of lines at the top of the bal-
loon, indicating the place where it burst, and then,
by drawing the man's features on the balloon, show
how he looked when he discovered the accident.
Leaving the same sketch on the board, we can
illustrate another story to the same tune:

There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise:
He lifted up the skeeter bar,
And let in all the flies.

But when he tried to go to sleep,
He found it was in vain;
So he lifted up the skeeter bar,
And let 'em out again.

Draw a few lines to indicate the pillow and
coverlid, change the eyeballs to the top corners
of the eyes, and put in the flies, and we have this
rhyme illustrated. This can all be done on a
blackboard-indeed, for outline work, the black-
board is better than any other surface; but there
are certain express-
ive phases of char- /
acter, especially
quick changes in
the expression of
the eye, which can
be delineated much
more satisfactorily
on paper. The white chalk on black ground is
apt to produce an expression altogether the op-
posite of that which is intended-making the
eyes look down when we actually intend them
to look up. The blackboard is the best thing

on which to practice, and will really answer any
ordinary demand; but, in case we wish to make
quite an affair of our Chalk Talk," and invite
the neighbors in to witness the enter-
tainment, it is well to have paper for
some of our illustrations. Almost any
kind will answer the purpose, but the
largest sheets of buff manilla paper are
S the best. The surface is just right to
take the charcoal and chalk easily, and
it is tough and not apt to break or tear,
besides being cheap. A dark buff color
is the best shade to select, because it will show the
whlitc chalk as well as other colors. It is true that
quite a life-like picture can be drawn in brilliant
colors on the blackboard, but it is much easier and
generally more effective to use paper for rapid draw-
ing in many colors. The secret of rapid and tell-
ing work lies in the knowledge of just uhalt you
are going to do, and how you are going to do it.
There must be no hesitation. The study must all
be done before any exhibition is attempted. But
it is much easier to determine wiat you wish to do
than how you are to accomplish it; therefore, a few



general hints on the subject will not be amiss. Recol-
lect that the aim of a Chalk Talk is to produce
a finished effect with the fewest possible lines in the
shortest possible time, so we must not needlessly
waste time in the introduction of the different colors.
We will suppose that we have the paper nicely
tacked on the board, and the chalks (ordinary
school chalks, assorted colors, are as good for the
purpose as any others) and charcoal at hand. We
will begin by ,l1.:r,1 r, the rhyme:
This ugly wight would ne'er go right:
Would you know the reason why?

,A '-

He follows his nose where'er it goes,
And that stands always awry."
Selecting a piece of red chalk, hold it so that
the side-not the end-will be against the paper.


Rub it lightly, covering with the red tint as much
surface as the size of the head requires. It makes
little difference if the
tint does not take the
exact shape of the head
to be drawn. We next
seize the white chalk,
and with a stroke lay in
the collar. Then for the coat. If we
desire a blue coat, by rubbing with
the side of the blue chalk we produce
a mass of color about the shape we
desire; and we finish with brown
trousers. Now a little patch of brighter red on
the place where we intend to make the nose, and
we are ready to complete the illustration by simply
drawing the outline with charcoal over the shades
we have produced.
An amusing transformation in different colors
can be made from a fruit-piece. Here, for exam-
ple, are an apple and a pear. Colored in red and
yellow, with a touch of green near the top, they
make a very pretty picture ; but the caricaturist is

-- ,--


not satisfied with this result. He must get ahead
of a pear in some way; so he puts in a pair of eyes
with white chalk, draws dark circles around them
with his charcoal to make them stand out brightly,
then adds a nose and mouth, and he has changed
the pear into a head. The apple must not be
neglected, so it assumes the features of a funny
baby. The spectator will be puzzled to understand
what is going to be done now; but the artist him-
self knows very well, and, by adding appropriate
bodies, causes the design to become apparent-
or "a parent." In the same manner, a sugar-bowl
may be transformed into a first-rate Chinaman.
A story might be told about a weasel and an egg.
First draw the egg in outline (see next page),
shading it along the bottom edges with gray
chalk, and putting a little white on the top of the
larger end, to give it the appearance of round-
ness. Then introduce the weasel, and tell how
he tried to suck the egg, at the same time draw-

ing some irregular lines on the surface of the egg
to indicate the place where he has broken the


C ,i

shell. Then bring the story to a satisfactory ter-
mination (showing how wickedness is punished)
by introducing the bird, which appears prema-
turely from his shell and takes summary venge-
ance upon the sly thief
S...---- to the tune of "Pop
S Goes the Weasel."
Now we have had
I.' i enough suggestions for
S' transformations to put
S" the reader upon the
j' '-. i track; but we would
S warn him that these
S transformations can not
;' be conceived in a mo-
S*. i '- mient, but must be de-
? '-'- signed and practiced
until the artist becomes
perfectly familiar with all the details, and knows
just what lines and what chalk he will use from the
beginning to the end. A very good exercise will
be found in placing five points or dots upon the

C..- --

, I '~

board, in any position, and i .1.4 7
then trying to so draw a '
human figure that each ex-
tremity will touch a point
a point for the head and <- 1-.
one for each hand and foot. We present a few
examples on the next page. As soon as the stu-
dent is skillful enough to draw a passable figure, a




little practice will make him so sure of success
that any one may be allowed to place the points.
Perhaps a "Chalk Talk" would be more suc-

in using very few lines without stop or hesitation; so
it is better as a rule not to lift your chalk from the
board until the required shade or line is completed.

* c

cessful if two were to take part in the performance. In case you are drawing with several colors,
Select the boy or girl who seems best adapted for select those you purpose to use in your picture,
that part to do the talking, and the one most skill- and hold them in your left hand ready for use.
ful as an artist to draw the pictures. The "talk- When applying a certain color to your picture, let
it finish its work before it is relin-
quished. For instance, you are draw-
Sing a girl with a blue hat, blue
S. parasol, and blue underskirt. Put
a shade of blue on the board for the
hat, another where the parasol is to
Sbe drawn, and still another for the
,_ z_ underskirt. Now you .have finished
with the blue crayon, and can lay it
aside, using the next color in the

47 -

ing" part may be an extemporaneous story, a poem,
or a reading; but the talker must always so arrange
his sentences as to give the artist a chance to illus-
trate one point before another is presented.
Now a few hints to the artist. Make your out-
lines with a strong, steady press- ..
ure, so as to produce a thick, uni-
form line that may be seen across
the room. Never draw two lines
when one will convey the idea. i''
The secret of drawing rapidly lies .
not so much in hurried action as

: 1 _


4, 4.~i

succession, whatever it may happen to be, in pre-
cisely the same manner.
Perhaps some of those who read this article do
not possess the skill necessary to produce the illus-
trations exhibited here, but there are many who
draw sufficiently well to furnish
a half-hour's entertainment; and
those who are not ambitious to
-- ., give a veritable Chalk Talk"
will find a world of amusement in

designing original and amusing
things upon their own blackboards.

*1~-~~-- ;-

. -



As THE railways penetrate into the remote,
picturesque parts of Europe, the national costumes
gradually disappear, and the only places where one
sees now the old-time dresses, are country fairs,
stations, and third-class railway carriages.
While the women are giving up many of their
stiff, quaint dresses, they still cling to their distinct-
ive head-dresses, so that the queer-looking heads
on the opposite page look very much like the heads
of the great-grandmothers of these foreign folk.
In fact, many of the ornaments and head arrange-
ments were the identical ones worn by the great-
grandmothers, still preserved with great care by
the modern great-granddaughters.
This curious-looking thing at the top and mid-
dle of the page, and which looks so much like a
sign-board, is not one, but the back view of a
quaint, outlandish cap-from Concarneau, in Brit-
tany. How it is made, how the wires hold oiut
such an expanse of muslin, and how the wearer
gets through narrow door-ways, are mysteries
which can only be solved in Concarneau itself.
Less grotesque, but almost as difficult to arrange
and keep in order, is the one to the left, worn by
all the maidens in Nantes; it looks like the del-
icate wing of a locust, and is almost as transparent
and fragile; she must have her troubles in keep-
ing the filmy structure from being crushed and
blown off.
The other woman on the right is from sunny
Italy, and she has evidently studied the becoming
to great advantage;-she is a Roman nurse, and
when she walks out on the Pincian Hill, with her
blue-black hair encircled with a garland of bright
scarlet ribbons, thrust through with a bunch of sil-
ver wheat, her large golden ear-rings flashing in the
sunlight, and her coral beads wound around her
throat, she attracts more attention than the little
Italian noble she is tending, you may be sure. Just
below her left shoulder is a head-covering which
would be hard to describe, and still harder, I should
think, to make, as it has almost as many angles as
a problem in geometry, only the sides are not at
all equal, and the use of the little bag at the end
must be left to conjecture.
The three demure figures whose faces are
turned toward her are all from parts of Ger-
many. The first of these head-dresses is from the
Black Forest, and is black, with long ribbons down
the back, but the small crown is red, covered with
gold embroidery. The lower one is very similar,
only a highly ornamented horn takes the place of
the crown at the back; these are only donned on

Sunday and state occasions, and at other times
doubtless repose in the old painted trousseau-
chest. The middle one is plainer, and gives the
modest German fraulein a most prim and anti-
quated look, and, as she kneels in the cathedral,
with downcast eyes, she could easily have stepped
out of an Albrecht Diirer picture.
Not so the woman who holds the middle of the
page. She has no hard, formal lines about her,
everything is flowing and graceful; her white
linen napkin is folded in the most picturesque man-
ner, so as to fall on either side of her olive, oval
face, and it sets off to the greatest advantage her
splendid dark eyes. Although she looks down,
she knows she looks artistic; and the first artist who
sees her will want to put the Italian contadina's
head on canvas-which is more than can be said
of the sister of charity, who walks about the streets
of Florence, wearing a huge Tuscan straw shade-
hat, with a brim about two feet wide, over her sim-
ple convent attire.
As the sister's head-dress is simple and plain, so
is the head-dress just below, belonging to a fresh-
faced Holland girl, intricate and elaborate. The
entire head is covered with a lace cap and frill,
underneath which gleams a band of gold or silver;
to the ends of these are attached gold blinders,
which prevent any sidelong or wandering glances.
Above the blinders are small rosettes of hair; not
her own, which is rigidly put out of sight, but
false, coarse little bunches, which, in turn, are sur-
mounted by erect golden pins, like the antennae of
an insect. The last touch to this complex costume
is a metal band that runs obliquely across the fore-
head; this is always an heirloom, and among rich
Hollanders is sometimes set with diamonds.
The stiff Dutch lady below is from Broeck, in
Holland, as she appeared sitting erect, listening to
a Dutch sermon from a Dutch parson. Her head
is gotten up like that of her young countrywoman,
but is surmounted by her best Sunday bonnet, the
fashion and shape of which never have changed
from the first, in her quiet, well-scrubbed village.
The damsel from Utrechtwas seen and sketched
on a steam-boat, on the river Scheldt; she was on
her travels, but her head-gear must have impeded
her view, especially two large gold-wire springs,
that protruded from her temples. No doubt they
were thought to be very beautiful in Utrecht.
The object in the lower left-hand corner, if one
studies it awhile, is found to be a woman becapped
and bonneted, her nose only showing. This
vision is seen constantly in Antwerp market.


pr ?,,--
-., ...--C ,-r.S ,

- _,

,/, ... /. \\

/: ^t



1" 1'

/ -r-'^I~S~

The huge black silk bow on this fresh little
blonde, although it has ends like rabbit-ears, cer-
tainly is not so ugly, when seen in the Baden
forests or in Alsace, as are the great coal-scuttles

which the women of Scheveningen wear, as they
tramp along the shores of the North Sea, with
their baskets of fish; but these hats are so large
and deep they hide the great red faces beneath,


---, st~J~




Cr,, '. BY A. P. WILLIAMS.

A BIG black dog met a
big black goat one day
on the street. Said the big black dog to the
big black goat: "Let 's play!" "What shall
we play ?" said the big black goat to the big
black dog. "A-ny-thing you like," said the big
black dog to the big black goat. "Well," said
the big black goat to the big black dog, and he
stood up on his hind legs to make a bow. On
his way down, the big black goat struck the
big black dog with his head and threw
him off the walk. "What 's that? said the
big black dog to the big black goat. "I ,
don't play that way ..-
"Butt /" said the big black
goat to the big black dog, ,'' .-
"that 's the way I play!" 3 .'
*'" "' "-. ...- '- r.- .._ 'i ._





ONCE there was a vain lit-tie girl named Kate, who thought more of her
fine clothes than of a-ny-thing else. She would look in the glass a long
time when-ev-er she put on her hat, and then she would turn and twist
her-self this way and that, to ad-mire the bow of her wide sash-rib-bon.
Well, one day her mam-ma said: "Kate, if you will put on your hat
quick-ly, you may drive with me in the Cen-tral Park. But I can wait
for you on-ly two min-utes, my dear."
Oh, yes, Mam-ma," said Kate, much de-light-ed; "I shall be read-y."
So she went up-stairs and braid-ed her hair, and
tied it with a rib-bon. Then she put on her best
shoes, and her best dress, and her best sash. This
she tied a-bout her waist in front, mak-ing a large
bow; then she pushed the sash down as far as she. .
could, and then turned it a-round so as to put the f
bow be-hind. But Kate did not yet feel sat-is-fled.
The pink sash, she thought, would, af-ter all, look
bet-ter than the blue one; so she took off the blue
and put on the pink sash. Then she said she must /
have a pink bow on her hair to match the sash. At .
last she was near-ly dressed, all but the gloves-
which pair should she wear? Her lace mits were
pret-ty, but she felt they were too old; so she put '
on her white silk gloves, but soon took them off,
be-cause they were too short to suit her. Then
she put on her kid gloves, and felt just like cry-ing
be-cause they were a lit-tle loose. Poor, fool-ish
lit-tle girl! At last her gloves were on, and af-ter
tak-ing her lit-tle par-a-sol from the shelf, and ad-mir-ing her-self in the
glass a-gain and a-gain, she ran down-stairs.
Mam-ma, Mam-ma! she called. But Mam-ma did not an-swer.
Then Bridg-et, who was dust-ing the hall, said:
Shure, Miss Ka-tie, if it's yer mam-ma ye are want-in', she's gone out
rid-in' 'most an hour a-go, so she has."
Poor Kate She sat down on the stairs and cried.
"It was all the fault of my gloves," she sobbed.
Do you think it was?


_,..'. :, -." .,
.A -- 1 .- ..

5 '-- '"-

-i' ,4 'T-
;.' -.!_ I, h .- I

7 *' '.


GOOD-MORROW! I said to you all,
When boisterous winds were blowing;
But now it's "good-day for it's May-
And never a morrow can come this way
More fair and good than a day in May,
Or wiser than this that is going.

She's smiling? Why, then it is well.
She is frowning? We need n't be snarling:
For if she is sad, it is bad
To whine, forsooth! that the day is n't glad,
For there is n't a weather that May has n't had
To work in and laugh in, the darling!

Now is she not lovely and true:
And is she not wise and knowing?
If it were not for her, why what would they do-
The things that are ready for growing?
So good-day to you all! I say,
For it's May, and she 's here to-day,
And never a morrow can come this way
More fair and good than a day in May,
Whatever way she be going.

A FRIEND sends your Jack an account of a fire at
a certain place in the State of Pennsylvania, which
has already burned for nearly fifty years, and is
likely to continue for years to come. The story
goes on to say that, about half a century ago, some
men opened a mining "drift" (or passage for an
under-ground road) into a mountain about four
miles from Pottsville, and that it was usual, at that
time, to build a large fire at the mouth of the drift,
in midwinter, to prevent its being blocked up by
snow and ice. One Saturday night, in 1835, the
fire was left unguarded, but Monday morning dis-
closed to the miners the result of their folly. The
timber of the drift had ignited, and the flames had

been communicated to the coal in the mine. The
mine had to be abandoned, and all efforts to
quench the fire, which constantly grew more in-
tense, were soon given up. The under-ground fire
had its own way, and in time turned the mountain
into a burning mass. A few years ago, when the
flames were nearer the surface than now, the sky
was lighted up with a ruddy glare at night, while
rain and snow disappeared in clouds of vapor as
they fell on the hot, parched surface. People who
endeavored to open mines in the same vicinity
have been repeatedly driven out by the fire.

~ii* -,



* *I,


IF you don't believe it, just reflect upon the fact
-fresh from Deacon Green-that, in a single
quart of water taken from a lake near Minneapolis,
a scientific gentleman lately counted 1829 small
creatures, all visible to the naked eye.
It may interest my younger hearers to know that,
of these 1829 little folk, there were 1400 ceriodaph-
nia, 9 daphnia, 56 simocephalus, 50 cypris, 28 cy-
clops, 120 amphipods, 35 infusoria, 22 mollusks,
Ioo diptera, and 9 hemiptera.
The Deacon says that while 18oo does seem a
rather large population for a quart of water, yet
there 's a certain "Mike "-mentioned, he tells
me, in this very number of ST. NICHOLAS- who
has often discovered our above-named friends, or
some of their relatives, in numbers that leave the
gentleman's count far behind.


THE Chinese people are very ingenious, and, I'm
told, are exceedingly skillful in dwarfing plants. It
is said that the Chinese ladies wear in their bosoms
little dwarf fir-trees which, by a careful system of
starvation, have been reduced to the size of button-
hole flowers. These remain fresh and evergreen
in this dwarfed state for a number of years, and are
worn by ladies of the highest rank in the Celestial
Empire as a symbol of eternal love and devotion.


YES, my dears; and once every week. It is told
of Lord Holland, an English nobleman of the
time of William III., that he used to give his
horses a weekly concert in a covered gallery, built
specially for the purpose. He maintained that it
cheered their hearts and improved their tempers,
and an eye-witness records the fact that they
seemed delighted therewith."
The Little School-ma'am says that Lord Holland
was regarded as a very eccentric man, but-if all
accounts are true-it could n't have been because
of his horse-concerts merely. For I am told that
there are some horses in America to-day that
live in stables costing many thousands of dollars,
and are much better -fed, quartered, and served
than three-fifths of the human population. Having


every other want supplied, why should human
beings begrudge them the addition of a weekly
concert--or any kind of entertainment they may
fancy ?
Strange to say, however (and with no offense
to Lord Holland or anybody else), these facts will
keep reminding me of a puzzling sentence I heard
the Deacon quote, one day, from somebody whom
he called a wise philosopher." This is the sen-
tence: "Things are in the saddle and ride man-
kind." You and I may not quite understand it,
but it seems to mean a good deal-does n't it?

DEAR JACK: I don't wonder that your birds thought those
"orchid"-flowers you told us about in January were bees. The
flowers themselves do look very much like bees, I assure you. Sis-
ter Nell and I saw some of them last summer when we were in
i,.. i...
S. .ve an uncle, though, who says he has seen another orchid
that is just as funny as the one you showed us in the picture. It is


I '
..- ..
J:---- -- .

*-- '-.' .

called the foilet-orcigd, and grows in Mexico. I send you a
drawing of it which Uncle made for us. He says to tell you that
the blossoms, or little flower-sprites, are clothed in yellow caps and
scarlet aprons, and each one is upheld by a slender, curved stem,
which causes the pretty elves to hold a 'nid-nid-nodding party,'
whenever the slightest breeze blows past them."
Yours truly, A E M
F ---:=

." -' -


~ :.. -.. ; i ,I +, ii-
-. .
[' ,. : = _= -

-i, '-. ..
S .,- --" '/ - -

which causes the pretty elves to hold a .nid-nid-noddmg party,


I 'M informed that the managers of the German
Navy have resolved to employ carrier-pigeons as a
means of communicating between light-ships and
light-houses and the shore. It seems that they
have been testing these fine birds in this business
during the last few years, and that the feathered
messengers have done their work like men-or
better than men. Success to the Government
bird, says your Jack.


THE Little School-ma'am asks me to show you
these sage reflections in verse by a poetical boy,
who one day after a hearty meal unexpectedly
found his little conscience full of fish:


I ate at dinner eggs of shad.
Cooked shell and all, they are not bad;
And yet, somehow, it makes me sad
To think what fun they might have had
If they had hatched-a thousand shad.

But still, I know the Delaware
Has many others swimming there,
And these crude fish may be my share.
S If all the eggs the fish prepare
Were laid and hatched, I do declare
There 'd be no water room to spare
For vessels on the Delaware.

It 's well all fish are not so large
As that old one which took in charge
Poor Jonah in its whalebone jaws,
Because he did n't mind God's laws;
Or that great sturgeon, king of fish,
That came at Hiawatha's wish,-

And swallowed him and his canoe,
SWith Squirrel Adjidaumo, too,
And kept him there till it he slew
And sea-gulls pecked the daylight through.
Dear Mr. Longfellow surely knew
His fishing story was not true.

My eyes grow dim and fish-thoughts few;
To sturgeon, shad, and whale, adieu.


A QUEER way of employing ants is re-
S ported by an English gentleman, who has
been traveling through one of the provinces
of China. It appears that in many parts
S of the province of Canton the orange-trees
S are infested by worms, and to rid them-
I selves of these pests the natives bring ants
into the orangeries from the neighboring
hills. The ants are trapped by holding the
mouth of a lard-bladder to their nests. They are
then placed among the branches of the orange-
trees, where they form colonies, and bamboo rods
are laid from tree to tree to enable the ants to move
throughout the orangery.



As THE four composition subjects for this month,* we suggest the


IN behalf of the poor children of New York, ST. NICHOLAS heartily
thanks "The Busy Bee Club" of Brooklyn for the following letter,
and the twelve dollars which the club sent with it as a subscription
to The Children's Garfield Fund:

BROOKLYN, N. Y., March 17, 1883.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Having seen your notice about The Chil-
dren's Garfield Fund in the Letter-Box of January ST. NICHOLAS,
our club determined to get up an entertainment in aid of the same.
So we had two plays, some music, and recitations, in the parlor of
Miss Clara Carr (one of our members), on the 22d of February,
1883. We charged ten cents admission, and made the sum of twelve
dollars ($12.00), for which we inclose a check. Please acknowledge
the receipt of it through ST. NICHOLAS.
Your constant readers,
Members: Clara Carr, Sadie Rhodes, Bessie Rhodes, May Car-
We acknowledge with thanks, also, another subscription from
the same city, sent by a correspondent who modestly signs herself
" Julia," but who incloses one dollar for the Fund.
For full particulars concerning The Children's Garfield Fund, see
ST. NICHOLAS for November, 1881, and July, 1882.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Can you tell me who was the author of the
verses that begin -
"There was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
And when she was good
She was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid ?" etc.

It is thought by some to have been written by Longfellow for the
amusement of his children. Your constant reader, F. I. G.

Who will answer this question?

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want Papa to say that I am a little girl
who never had ST. NICHOLAS before this one, and I think it elegant.
I am often very bad, but I will keep good now, and Papa will buy
me ST. NICHOLAS every month. He helped me some to make out
the puzzles, but I will soon be clever enough to do it all alone.
Your new friend,

(P. S.-DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: If this inducement succeeds, it will
be the first that has been able to restrain a temper certainly not got-
ten by example from "PAPA.")

We print the above letter and postscript just as they came to us,
omitting only the name, place, and date. But we hope to receive
another letter by and by, stating that the "inducement" Lhas "suc-
ceeded" in enabling our new little friend to "keep good" all the

PROVIDENCE, R. I., Feb., 1883.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I was very much pleased, upon looking
over one of our old ST. NICHOLASES, to find an account of the Swiss
glaciers in the November number for i88o. It was doubly interest-
ing to me from the fact that I have seen those very glaciers. We

See ST. NICHOLAS for October and January.

rode for three days in a carriage, going from Brieg to Andermatt,
stopping at the Rhone glacier on our way. I never shall forget it.
My sister and I walked up to the glacier, with an old guide, and
saw the cavern where the Rhone comes out. It comes out of a big
cavern in the ice, first a little stream, then gradually flowing into the
river. I spent three years abroad, and enjoyed myself very much.
I hope you will print my letter, as I am very fond of reading the
ST. NICHOLAS. I have taken lessons on the violin for nearly three
years. Your affectionate reader, JOSEPH C. HOPPIN.

JEFFERSONVILLE, IND., March 5, 1883.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I commenced taking ST. NICHOLAS when
I was seven years old, and now I'am eleven. I have seven volumes,
bound in red and gold, with my name on them, and I read them over
and over a great many times. We have had a great flood here, and
8000 people were without homes. If it had not been for the kind
- 1.. i.. sending us food and clothes and money, many
".1. '. I At th ..... 1.. .ich I was born the water
was ten feet deep, and I ... I .in .....- over the fences, trees, and
tree-boxes, right up to the top of the door, and we could have gone
in through the ''rr-r -I-h -f the window. The house in which we
live stands on a li.., ,' .1, i -. high, on the bank of the Ohio River,
and I saw thirteen houses drift down the river one day. In one
house there were four persons: a man, his wife, and two children;
they were waving a white cloth, and the life-savers came to their
rescue. A little cradle went by with a little blue-eyed boy-baby in
it, and went on down the river, and some one caught it and is keep-
ing it until called for. I expect its parents are drowned, as it is
there yet. We are all very poor now, but we are so glad to be alive
and well, that we do not mind it much. A. C. W.

T. HAMPTON.-No conditions are imposed upon those who wish
to send answers to puzzles.

SAN FRANCISCO, March I, 1883.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have taken you for a good many
years now, and I think I have the privilege of an old correspondent,
of making a few remarks on the production of Mary Lizzie Spear, in
your March number for i883. I don't think Miss Spear gives the
Eastern children a correct idea of the California boys, or of their
ingenuity, in :ir;n tht "none of them knew how to go about
making a sled, I r.. .. them here-of course, not as theydo in
the snow countries, but surely enough so as to know how to make
one, they being such simple things. They are used very often here
for a sport quite well known, namely: A number of boys make a
sled, and after getting a long rope, wait in the road for a wagon to
come along. Seeing one, they rush forward and slip it (the rope)
around anything convenient in the back part of the wagon, so get-
ting a ride.
And as you must know from the newspapers, ST. NICHOLAS, the
weather during the latter part of December was so cold here that it
was said that, if this was a snow country, the signal service would
have predicted a snow-storm. Therefore, you Easterners must not
imagine that we had mild weather before the storm; and I think
that the party must have had a rather cold day on that shore, which
is never too warm. Hoping to see the judgment of the California
members of ST. NICHOLAS as to which is the more correct of these
two letters concerning California and Californian children, I remain,
Yours sincerely, A. H. S.

IN connection with the "Art and Artists" installment for this
month, we present the following list of the principal works of Anton
Vandyck to be seen in European galleries: PITTI PALACE, FLOR-
ENCE: Portraits of Cardinal Bentivaglio, and of Charles I. and Hen-
rietta Maria. UFFIZI GALLERY, FLORENCE : Equestrian portrait of
Charles V., portrait of John Montfort. THE EP.ERA, MILAN:
"Madonna and St. Anthony." CAPITOL MUSEUM, ROME: "An
Entombment." PINACOTECA, TURIN: Three children of Charles
I., "Holy Family," an equestrian portrait. MUSEUM, ANTWERP:
"Descent from the Cross," The Entombment," a portrait. MU-
SEUM, BRUSSELS: "Crucifixion of St. Peter," "A Satyr," portrait
of Alexandre de la Faille. MiVsEtUM OF THE TRI'PPENHUIS, AM-
STERDAM: Two children of Charles I. MUSEUM, BERLIN: Seven
pictures, including four portraits, "The Mocking of Christ," and
the "Descent of the Holy Ghost." GALLERY, CASSEL: Four fine



portraits. DRESDEN GALLERY: Ten portraits, and a St Jerome.
PINACOTHEK, MUNICHt: Twelve pictures, ten portraits, and two
pictures of the Pieta. THE BELVEDERE, VIENNA : Nine pictures,
four portraits, two Madonnas, "Venus and Vulcan," "Samson and
Delilah," "Holy Family," and a Magdalen. ROYAL MUSEUM, MAD-
RID: Nine portraits, The Crowning with Thorns," and the Be-
trayal of Christ." LOUVRE, PARIS: Thirteen portraits, "Renaud
and Armid," "St. Sebastian," "Dead Christ," and two Madon-
nas. GALLERY AT HAMPTON COURT: "Samson and Delilah,"
and two portraits. NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON: Miraculous
Draught of Fishes," a study, and a portrait of Vandyck. THE
HERMITAGE, ST. PETERSBURG: Twenty-one portraits, "Naked
Boys Blowing Bubbles," "Holy Family," "Incredulity of St.
Thomas," and Martyrdom of St. Sebastian."

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My sister has taken you since the second
year you were published, but this year I take you in place of my
sister. I think you are lovely, and every month I await you anx-
iously. My mother and I are traveling through the South this win-
ter, and some of the things I see are so funny. My uncle has a
very clever setter dog, which can do a great many tricks. When I
was at school, he always appeared at the school at a quarter of twelve
to take my books home. I hope you will print this in your Letter-
Box, and oblige your constant reader, EDITH C.


I WAS going to our barn one day to get the ax. I had to jump
a fence. Now Dolley, the cow, was shut up inside of this fence. I
am very much afraid of her, because she likes to hook. So I stood
up and looked about me to see where she was. I noticed that the
barn door stood open. It was a very big sliding door. There were
two of them, and they met in the middle. Two large barrels of bran
were in the barn, uncovered. Now our hired man, Sam, was very
careful to keep the door shut, because cows will eat bran or mid-
dling until they burst themselves. I had left the door shut except
one inch, but while I was gone Dolley was wise enough to push her
horn through into the crack, and open it enough to put her head in,
then her body, and last of all her tail. Then she walked straight
to the bran, and began to eat as fast as she could. The minute I saw
her in the barn I called Sam, and in two minutes up came Sam, all
out of breath from running so fast. I told him what had happened,
and he rushed in and drove her out, and locked the door and went
away. P. G. W. (a little boy eleven years old).

WE have renewed cause for gratitude this month in the kind offers
of help which come to us from several well-known specialists. The
first two are for our botanists :
If your correspondents desire the names of any ferns, grasses,
or plants in general, or any information on the subject of botany, I
shall be .1 1 .. iwer all such, or at least all that come from west
of the : i 'i i I realize the value of such work as you are
doing, MARCUS E. JONES, Salt Lake City, Utah."
Noticing your call for the aid of specialists, I briefly offer my serv-
ices in the following directions: I. General botanical items of in-
terest. 2. Classification ofall flowering plants and vascular crypto-
gams (ferns, t- r Tnd on the North American continent and in
Germany; i i.. life histories, etc. 3. Gasteromycetes (puff
balls) of the world. 4. Spiders of the U. S. 5. Mammals of the
U. S. AUG. F. FOERSTE, Dayton, Ohio."
"If I can serve the cause mineralogically, call on me
"DAVID ALLAN, Box 113, Webster Groves, Missouri."
".I should be glad to assist the A. A. in any matter relating to
marine zoBlogy.
"C. F. HOLDER, American Museum Nat. Hist.,
"Central Park (77th st. and 8th ave.), New York, N. Y."
'"I have watched, with more interest than I can readily conmmni-
cate, the genesis and development of the A. A. In answer to your
call for assistance, I 4-.i; 1- ;. --t i.-i-.- to identify minerals and the
commoner forms of .. i
.! South Pittsburg, Tenn."
"1qth and Race streets, M'arch i, 1883.
"Having seen your call, in ST. NICHOLAS of this month, for
assistance in answering the many questions brought forward by the
members of the A. A., I take pleasure in i '..: my aid. My
specialties are entomology and conchology. ... irnest desire for
the success of the society, G. HOWARD PARKER."

The gentlemen who have thus freely offered their aid can hardly
realize how great a service they are rendering. Think of it! Here
are over 5000 young and older amateur naturalists belonging to our
society, most of whom, living in remote towns, have few opportu-
nities of instruction in the subjects of their choice. They are now
placed in such a position that they can go right on with their obser-
vations without leaving home; can be advised as to the best books
for consultation in their several departments; can exchange speci-
mens and thoughts with members in all the different States and
Territories; and can have the assistance of men trained in special de-
partments of science, and all without expense. Mlay not the A. A.
be the means of solving one of the most perplexing educational
questions of the day? Who knows but we may yet offer regular
courses of reading and study in the several departments, followed by
examinations, and the presentation of certificates ?
That our members are not slow to appreciate the increased advan-
tages the A. A. offers them, is proved by the more earnest and en-
couraging tone of our Chapter reports, as well as by the large list of
new branches which follows:


No. VName. Ml7embers. Secretary's A ddess.
423 Perth Ambov, N. J. (A)...16..Bertha Mitchell.
424 Decorah, Iowa. (A) ....... 5..W. E. Clifford.
4'3 Greeley, Col. (A)......... 9..Louis L. Haynes.
426 La Porte, Ind. (B) ........ 4..Leo B. Austin.
427 New York, N. Y. (L)..... 4..Chas. H. Broas, "Tremont."
428 St. Paul, Minn. (C)..... 6..Philip C. Alien, 5 Laurel ave.
429 Dorchester, Mass. (A)... 9..Miriam Badlam, 15 Columbia
430 Kinmundy, Ill. (A)........ 5..Bertie Squire.
431 Terre Haute, Ind. (A)..... 7..Jacob Greiner, 432 N. Center.
432 Grand Rapids, Dakota. (A) 5..Jesse French.
433 Dallas, Texas. (A) ........ 9..David C. Hinckley.
434 Meadville, Pa. (A) ........ 6. Lawrence Streit.
435 Northampton, Mass. (B)... 4..H. L. Halliard, box 756.
436 Toronto, Ont. (A) ......... 5..Robert Holmes, 273 Bathurst
437 T..-;. .- N. J. (B)...... 4. Natalie McNeal.
438 -. I-, Mass. (A)...... 6..Harry E. Sears, cor. Medford
and Chester sts.
439 Wilmington, Del. (B)...... 4..Percy C. Pyle, 417 Washing-
ton street.
440 Keene, N. H. (A) ......... 6..F. H. Foster, box 30o.
441 Valparaiso, Chili. (A). .... 7..W. Sabina.
442 Waldoboro, Me. (A) ....... 4..Thomas Brow(n.
443 Brunswick, Me. (A)....... 6..E. B. Young.

Leaves, flowers, and seed of Chinese tea.-Alfred Stoehr, Cincin-
nati, 0., 99 East Liberty st.
Eggs.-Fred Russell, 38 Concord st., Brooklyn, N. Y.
Orange blossoms and mistletoe.-F. C. Sawyer, Beauclerc, Fla.
Agates, Florida moss, minerals, etc.-Maude M. Lord, 75 Lam-
berton st., New Haven, Conn.
Labels for specimens.--H. H. Downs, box 176, Rutland, Vt.
Copper ore, manganese ore, and other minerals.-K. M. Fowler,
Sweetland, Cal.
After April ist, silk-worm eggs.-Box 14, Beverly, N. J.
Sea-urchins, star-fish, minerals, for ocean curiosities, and fossils.-
E. C. Shaw, 60 Locust st., Toledo, 0.
Cocoons, A tacus cecropia, for minerals, corals, etc.-Walter M.
Patterson, roio West Van Buren st., Chicago, Ill.
Minerals, for bugs; lead and silver ore, for tin and zinc.-E. P.
Boynton, Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
Minerals, petrified wood, and shells, for fossils and sea-mosses.-
D. G. Hinckley, 1435 Elm st., Dallas, Texas.
Birds' eggs, minerals, etc.-Frank W. Wentworth, 1337 Michigan
ave., Chicago, Ill.
Coral and ocean shells.-Lemuel A. Wells, T---'- -; C-nn.
i. What is the most common bird in Ame. I I is the
largest known glacier in the world? 3. What makes the "fire" in
opals? 4. H-ow many minerals in the U. S. whose names end in
"ite" ? --Chicago F.
Plumbago and rose quartz from N. H.-Louis Ager, 295 Carlton
ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.
Minerals. -Joseph Stiles, Belmont, Nev.
Two cocoons, Atlacus cecrofia, and two fossil sp'ijfrs.-Ira
Lamed, Dearborn st., Chicago.
Copper ore, feldspar, and other minerals and shells, for trap-door
spiders' nests, fossils, etc.-Thomas Brown, box 55, Waldoboro, Me.
Three olive shells for natural curiosities, except birds' eggs.--Willie
D. Grier, 539 Tremont st., Boston, Mass.
T:. ... .-. 1 minerals.-Alvin S. Wheeler, Dubuque, Iowa.
S-* H. Chittenden, Washington st., Dorchester, Bos-
ton, Mass.


The mass of reports has so accumulated that we must be content
to glance very rapidly at them.
No. x58 is re-organized.-2x9 has collected 70 cocoons, and a few
winter birds, such as pine grosbeak, and has spent most of its time
in arranging and labeling previously collected specimens.-352, Am-
herst, Mass., numbers 20, and not one has dropped. Three of the
members have seen hair-snakes come from the side of the body of a
cricket.-The President of 382 gives blackboard notes on entomol-
ogy at each meeting, which are copied by the members, and at each
meeting, also, some interesting extract is read aloud, such as a story
about Robert Dick or-Hugh Miller, or one of the parables from na-
ture.-Berwyn, Pa., numbers 14 active and 2 honorary. Prizes
have been offered in the Chapter for best collections of insects, with
excellent results. At each meeting the President has named one
mineral to be the subject for the following meeting. During the week
all the members studied the subject, and were prepared for a thor-
ough discussion. Among the questions that have been asked are:
Why is frost formed on the inside of window-panes? Difference be-
tween igneous and aqueous rocks ? What distinguishing peculiarity
of quartz crystal apart from its shape ? (Ans. The strims on its lat-
eral faces.) What are Plutonic rocks? What are mineral earths?
Have birds the sense of taste? What is bog iron ore ? [See Cros-
by's "Common Minerals."] John F. Glosser, Sec.-390, Chester,
Mass., has 32 members, and posts weekly printed notices of its meet-
ings. A peculiarly interesting Chapter has been formed at Valparai-
so, Chili. The first in South America since Cordoba moved North.
Its members are Nos. 5000 to 5007 of the A. A. Chicago F, 229,
has elaborate letter-heads and envelopes. "Each member has two
insect-nets, and a little kit, with chloroform, etc., for insect hunting."
-The new Secretary of 188, Newport A, is- F. Burdick, P. 0. box
614.-Chapter 366, Webster Groves Mo., has flourished upon igno-
rant local opposition, and has increased in numbers from 39 to 65.
-364 asks about arrow-heads, etc. These, and coins, stamps, etc.,
are not recognized by the A. A.- Cedar Rapids, Iowa, has found
seven different kinds of scales on butterflies' wings. [Why not send
pictures of them?] -170, Brookfield, Mass., celebrated its anniver-
sary by a special meeting, with essays, etc. ; 14 members.-285, Du-
buque, Iowa, is getting on exceedingly well; has purchased a nice
cabinet, and is studying geology.
There is to be a general reunion of all Chicago Chapters on Agas-
siz's birthday, May 28.- Chicago G is very active, and intends to
"canvass the country round and secure a collection of all the min-
erals of Chicago."- Cedar Rapids B has learned the branches and
classes of the animal kingdom, and has debated with C, its sister
Chapter, the interesting question, whether Arachnida should be
classed under the I7secta. Pro: A. S. Packard, Jr., W. E. Wilson,
Sanborn Tenney. Contra: J. G. Wood and Webster's Dictionary.
[We wish to hear from the A. A. generally on this question.] It is
asked whether a corresponding member of the A. A. can also be
a member of a Chapter. [Certainly, and vice versd.] Does the sap
in trees ever freeze? What is it that we see above and around a hot
stove? Has a mole eyes? [Yes.] Can insects hear? -The interest
of Neillsville, Wis., "grows daily," and its visible growth is seen in
a handsome black-walnut case for the butterflies collected last year.
-261, East Boston, has 26 members. "At our next meeting we are
to hear several sketches of the lives of great naturalists."--303 has
earned a dagger in the hand-book by deceasing; but its wide-awake
Secretary remains a corresponding member.-North Adams, Mass.,
has a new Secretary, Miss Lulu Radio. Collections are to be made of
minerals, insects, and plants.-- Sag Harbor, N.Y., is "' flourishing ;
has increased to 20o regular and 6 honorary members, and has for ex-
change micaceous quartz, silver ore, olive and ebony wood, and
skates' egg cases.-Bryan, 0., is having "splendid" meetings; col-
lecting scraps for ascrap-book, and making excursions.-The mem-
bers of Chicago E, 153," go in a body once a fortnight to the Academy
of Science. There the President distributes cards containing the
names of birds and mammals common here. Each then goes to the
cases and finds some bird named on his list, and studies it. When
we think we can describe the birds we have selected, we assemble,
and are called on in turn to give a description of the chosen bird, but
without telling its name. If the members can not tell from the de-
scription what the bird's name is, the describer tells it himself After
all are done, the President reads the list, bidding each one to speak
when the name of a bird is read that he does not know. The descrip-
tions are kept in note-books."-Altoona, Pa., has 15 members and a
fine cabinet, and promises some fossils for our general A. A. cabinet,
for which our thanks, we trust, will soon be due. [By the way,
members of the A. A. can greatly help us in our work if they will
now and then send for the Central A. A. Museum's labeled speci-
mens in theirseveral departments. Chapter No. i, Lenox, ishaving
cases made and a room furnished for this purpose, and we hope to
build up a museum which shall worthily represent the Association.
All specimens should have the name of the donor attached. Each
Chapter should be represented on our shelves, as many of them al-
readyare.]-Belpre, 0., writes: Some of the folks take an interest
in us, and others make fun of us, but I notice they are very anxious
to know what we are doing."- Scituate, Mass., has 29 members.-
Taunton, Mass., 93; has over 800 specimens, and Pine City, Minn.
(lately formed), has 244 varieties of insects.-Buffalo B, always one
of our best Chapters, sends a report so long and full of interest that

it would not be altogether a bad plan to print it entire, for our gen-
eral report, if there were not 432 other Chapters. Buffalo B is anx-
ious for a general representative meeting of the A. A. next summer,
or "some time."--o6 has been re-organized.-Beverly, N. J., has
made large and valuable additions to its cabinet. "The way we do
is this: every week we have essays on some such subject as geology.
The first paper names the orders, and mentions some examples of
each. The other papers describe the specific examples."-Erlanger,
Ky., has found the head of a trilobite measuring 2 by 25 inches, and
is preparing an herbarium.-The address of 311, omitted from ST.
NICHOLAS, is San Juan, Col., Mrs. J. L. Brewster, Secretary, 5 mem-
bers.-353, Philadelphia K, has 26 volumes as a nucleus for a library.
-San Francisco 321 is "getting on" splendidly, and desires a
book giving names and pictures ofeggs.-Amherst, Mass., desires
correspondence. Address H. L. Clarke, Providence, R. I., Sec.


(I) Spider.-- found what seemed to be a brown spider. It meas-
ured i y inches from the extremities of its legs. Its bodywas entirely
covered with little spiders. Next morning it was dead. The little
spiders, at least 5o, were swarming on the glass. I had read that
spiders' eggs are laid in a cocoon. HIRAM N. BICE, Utica, N. Y.
(2) Rabbit and Weasel.-A little white weasel was observed to
drag the body of a large rabbit for sixty rods, over many obstacles.
When twigs hindered, its sharp white teeth removed them.
E. B., South Gardiner, Mass.
(3) Birds.-I feed many birds from the cupola of our house, and
they have grown so tame that one dear little fellow eats from my hand.
B. KELLOGG, Detroit, Mich.
(4) Electricity.-This winter every metal thing in our house gives
electric sparks. The largest come from the steam-radiators. I have
conducted the electricity from bells and gas-jets along a wire. Can
any one explain it? WILLIE SHERATON, Toronto, Canada.
(5) Pollen.-The grain of heartsease seems to be a prism. A. B.
(6) Wingless Motls.-Some of my caterpillars left their cocoons
Nov. I, 1882, and had no wings. They soon died. I do not under-
stand it. Wilmington, Del.
(7) Snakes, Fly-catcher.-For a month I have fed my pet snakes
nothing, but they seem as lively as ever. I saw one of my large rat-
tlesnakes shed its skin. It accomplished this by drawing its body
around rough stones in the bottom of the case. I have noticed that
nine times out of ten the nest of the great Custer flv-catcher contains
two or three snake-skins. I heard of one who, unable to find them,
substituted onion skins. JAS. DE B. ABBOT.
(8) Polyphemnus Cecrofia.-I have found the larvae of polyphemus
on hard and soft maple, white birch, and elm. I have found cecropia
on white birch and syringa. E. H. PIERCE, Auburn, N. Y.
(9) Sider.-While I was watching spider, it started out horizon-
tally into the air, with no web in front of it. It went a few feet and
stopped, keeping up a nimble movement with its feet. Presently it
started again, went some 20 feet, stopped again, and then again went
on till out of sight. How does it sustain and how propel itself?
(10) Smallest Flower.-The smallest flower in the world is Semna
Polyrrhiza. E. D. LOWELL, Jackson, Mich.
(ii) Albino Squirrels.-I have two snow-white squirrels with pink
eyes. They were taken from a gray squirrel's nest. Why are they
white? A. W. BOARDMAN, Meriden, Conn.
(12) Hornet's Nest.- Geneva's challenge is accepted. I haveahor-
net's nest that measures from crown to tip 27 inches, and in circum-
ference 42 inches. It was cut from an apple-branch at Bustleton,
Philadelphia. T. C. PEARSON.
(13) Hair-snakes.-I have taken hair-snakes from crickets.
(14) Snow-fleas.- On January 31, 1883, I observed thousands of
snow-fleas on the unfrozen surface of a pond. H. L. -CLARKE.
A change of Secretary in a Chapter causes so much confusion that
we strongly urge each Chapter to take a P. 0. box which may be
the Chapter's permanent address. Since the publication of the A. A.
Hand-book, the first edition of which is nearly exhausted, the num-
ber of Chapters has nearly doubled; and the question of a second
edition, revised, containing addresses of all Chapters and other new
matter, must soon be decided. We should like to hear from the As-
sociation regarding the matter. Before writing to the President,
members should recall the conditions of correspondence given in
previous reports. In particular, write requests for exchange on sep-
arate slips of paper. .It will be an additional assistance if Notes on
Natural History (which we propose hereafter to number for conven-
ient reference) be written on separate slips, and not in the mid-
dle of Chapter reports. Owing to the pressure on our columns, re-
ports must appear substantially in the form shown in this number of
ST. NICHOLAS, and the nearer to this form they are when they reach
us, the less labor will be required to prepare them for print.
All communications, including reports heretofore sent to Mr. Glos-
ser, must be addressed to HARLAN H. BALLARD,
Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.




THE answer to the accompany-
ing illustration is a familiar pro-


I. ACRoss: I. A bird. 2. A
swarm of bees. 3. A pool or
lake. 4. An epithet. DOWN-
WARD: z. In riddle. 2. An ex-
clamation. 3. Vigor. 4. Smooth.
5. Epoch. 6. A printer's meas-
ure. 7. In riddle.
II. ACRoss: i. To stagger.
2. To distribute. 3. A ferocious '
animal. 4. An apartment. DOWN-
WARD: i. In numerical. 2. A
boy's nickname. 3. A snake-
like fish. 4. The bed of a wild
beast. 5. Three-fourths of a word
meaning to observe. 6. A word
of denial. 7. In numerical.
"NOVICE," and "c. D."


THE syncopated letters, placed
in the order here given, will spell
one of the United States.
i. Syncopate a drain, and leave
a prophet. 2. Syncopate the
understanding, and leave the
propercoat of the seed of wheat.
3. Syncopate a proper amount
of medicine, and leave a deer.a
4. Syncopate to chide, and leave
bartered. 5. Syncopate a ma-
rine conveyance, and leave an
animal. 6. Syncopate to weave,
andleave a wooden tub. 7. Syn-
copate a substance which exudes
from certain trees, and leave to
govern by a bridle. 8. Synco-
pate suffering, and leave the god
of shepherds. 9. Syncopate a
sound, and leave part of the foot.


M:Y primals name an article
important at an annual festival ;
my finals name what is worn by
the principal personage at the
CROSS-WORDS: i. Deriding.
2. A country of Asia. 3. A
measure of time. 4. A loud and
prolonged sound. 5. A chief of the Seminole Indians who died in
Fort Moultrie in 1838. 6. Gaunt. 7. A species of antelope found
in South Africa. "ARIANA MOORE."
HET norib, teh nefurneror fo eht rispgn,
Het ludibreb, hitw sit judnoc logincar,
Het seltsres slowslaw dubingil ni eth vaese,
Het 1 1.. ..,,i bsup, het sargs, eth values,
Het ,i.- i ... i hte sniwd fo ayTM,
Lal clomewe hist jamstice iholady. J. A. C.

I AM composed of sixty-one letters, and am a verse from the Book
of Psalms.
My 58-6-14-19 is the muse who presides over history. My
41-13-29-37-50-24 is the son and trumpeter of Neptune. My
1-27-2-53-30 is a fabled personage, who is represented as bearing

the world upon his shoulders. My 61-45-i2-4o0-o is the goddess
who presides over hunting. My 42-18-36-46-20-6-60-21 is the son
of Jupiter, celebrated for his great strength. My 56-50-44-59 is
what he had to do. My 34-9-19-5-28 was the god of eloquence
among the ancient Egyptians. My 31-39-58-46-47-26-54-4-35 is a
priestess of Bacchus. My 33-16-23-2-3-39 is the muse who presides
over comedy. My 51-26-8-32-49 were three goddesses who pre-
sided over human destinies. My 17-25-48-31-7-30 was the capitol
of Boeotia. My 38-50-22-43-36 was the greatest poet of Greece.
My 1-43-15-57-49 was the shield given by Jupiter to Minerva. My
52-55-11-16-19-6-5o0-5-55 is the science treating of myths.
M. T. z.
IN my first, when gay flowers were blooming,
Forth with my second I went,
Admiring the pleasant landscape,
Inhaling the fragrant scent.
Soon we came where a stately mansion
Grew under the builder's art;
There my whole at his toil we discovered,
Contentedly doing his part. w. H. A.

EXAMPLE: Take a small boy from an illness, and leave a month of
blossoms. ANSWER : Ma-lad-y.
i. Take an epic poem of the Spaniards from to determine, and
leave a river of Scotland. 2. Take to gain from wound around, and
leave a boy's nickname. 3. Take inside from a dearth, and leave
celebrity. 4. Take hostility from recompense, and leave a color. 5.
Take a kind of engraving from straining, and leave a cord. 6. Take
a part of the head from closest, and leave a home for birds. 7. Take
one of the measures from pertaining, and leave a creature. 8. Take
a tiny portion from restricted, and leave a cover. 9. Take a visit
from brought back, and leave a marsh grass. o0. Take a conjunc-
tion from remote, and leave to pretend. ss. Take frigid from
upbraiding, and leave to warble. 12. Take a well-known game from
the price paid for the conveyance of a letter, and leave to place in


12 3 2 3
-i--- j 1 '-- -
4 5 6 4 9 5

7 8 9 6 7 8

Cut out of paper or card-board nine small squares numbered and
placed as in Fig. I. In sixteen moves arrange the blocks as they
appear in Fig. II., without taking out any, except removing the
"one" block when beginning and replacing it when finished. In
sending solutions, indicate the process in this way: 2 left, 5 up,
6 right, 3 down, etc., etc. E. Z. C.


I. UPPER SQUARE: I. A luminous body. 2. A weed that grows
among wheat. 3. Sciences. 4. Repose.
II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: i. A couple. 2. An abbot. 3. A
bird highly venerated by the ancient Egyptians. 4. Repose.
III. CENTRAL SQUARE: I. Repose. 2. A girl's name. 3. To
disgrace. 4. A weed that grows among wheat.
IV. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: I. A weed that grows among wheat.
2. An entrance or passage. 3. A French word meaning nothing."
4. A famous volcano.
V. LOWER SQUARE: i. A weed that grows among wheat. 2
Sour. 3. To be conveyed. 4. A delightful region.



i1L. .sx f, tlI.i puC. ,. 6I -.3 I.f Ii., d ..li uu.. training
seven letters. From 4 to 2, to lap over; from 15 to 3, to
effuse; from i6 to 4, to note carefully; from 17 to 5, to step
beyond; from 18 to 6, a sea-port town of Italy; from 19 to 7, pertain-
ing to the Empire of Turkey; from 2o to 8, without study or prep-

aration; from 21 to 9, gross injury; from 22 to 1o, one who holds
an office; from 23 to Ii, the wife of Mark Antony; from 24 to 12, a
station at a distance from the main body of an army; from 25 to 13,
an affront.
The row of figures from 14 to 25 all represent the same letter. The
row of figures from 2 to 13 represent letters which spell a word mean-
ing to overpower by weight. "GIGLAMIPS."

MY first is in September; my second in April; my third in May;
my fourth in December; my fifth in March; my sixth in July. My
whole is a gala day coming in the spring. F. DUSTIN.

WHEN rightly arranged, the ii :... vords will form a well
known stanza of six lines by Willi ... .. I. ... All the capitals used
in the original verse are retained in the pi.
When hallowed Spring Returns with sweeter wishes Than ever
cold dewy fingers to sink Fancy's sod How shall She have the coun-
try's mould there to dress their rest their brave sleep who trod a deck
By all feet blest. IHATTIE L.
i. IN Michigan. 2. A projecting part of a wheel. 3. An animal
without horns. 4. A beautiful white flower. 5. A kind of fruit.
6. One-half of a word meaning to delay. 7. In Michigan.


SILLUSTRATED PUZZLE. Silhouette. i. Hut. 2. Teeth. 3. List.
4. Thistle. 5. Son. 7. House. 8. Oil. 9. Islet. xo. Tiles. i.
Sheet. s2. Hoe. 13. Toilet. 14. Tie. 15. Lute. 16. Hole. 17.
Suit. 18. Slit. 19. Stile. 20. Title. 2. Hilt. 22. Stilt. 23.
Sole. 24. Heel. 25. Sol. 26. Hose. 27. Shoe. 28. Toes.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Charles; finals, Dickens. Cross-
words: i. CheereD. 2. Hol (den). 3. AdriatiC. 4. RooK.
5. LucrativE. 6. EntertaiN. 7. SaluteS.
REVERSIBLE WORDS. I. Now-won. 2. Reward-drawer.
RIDDLE. Guilt-gilt.
GEOGRAPHICAL PUZZLE I. Negro. 2. Thomas. 3. Guinea.
4. Shanghai. 5. Bantams. 6. Thomas. 7. Fear. 8. Sable. 9.
Ada. io. Morgan. s. Sunflower. 12. Carroll. 13. Hart. 14.
Great Bear. 15. Buffalo. I6. Bullock. 17 Hnrnar 18. Cook.
19. Ada. 20. Nubia. 21. Afghan. 22. :-almon. 24.
Turkey. 25. China. 26. Orange. 27. Malaga. 28. Brazil. 29.
NOVEL ACROSTIC. Longfellow, Evangeline. Cross-words: i.
LeEward. 2. ObVious. 3. NeArest 4. GeNesis. 5. FaGging.
6. EmErald. 7. LuLlaby. 8. Leisure. 9. OmNibus. oo.

NINE DIAMONDs. Top Row: I. I. R. 2. Ray. 3. Raker.
4.a.Ye R.5 II. R. 2. Rap. 3. Razor. 4. Pot. 5. R.
III. i. R. 2. Ril (1). 3. River. 4. Lee. 5. R. Middle Row:
I. -. R. 2. Top. 3. Rover. 4. Pen. 5. R. II. I. R. 2.
Tub. 3. Ruler. 4. Beg. 5. R. III. i. R. 2. Tie. 3. Rider.
4. Eel. 5. R. Bottom Row: I. 1. R. 2. Car. 3. Racer. 4.
Red. 5. R. II. 1. R. 2. Lap. 3. Rarer. 4. Pet. 5. R.
III. i. R. 2. Fop. 3. Rower. 4. Peg. 5. R.
PROVERB REBUS. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
PI. Every tear is answered by a blossom,
Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
Apple-blooms upon the breezes toss them,
April knows her own, and is content.
Susan Coolidge in Ajfrd.
A day in April never came so sweet
To show how costly summer was at hand.
Merchant of Venice, Act II., Scene 9.
CONCEALED WORD-SQUARE. I. Event. 2. Valor. 3. Elate.
4. Notes. 5. Tress. CHARADE. Cargo.
Two CRoss-WORD ENIGMAS. I. Spain. 2. Riddle.

ANSWERS TO FEBRUARY PUZZLES were received, too late for acknowledgment in the April number, from George B. Carter, -
Sonora, 3-W. Rigby, Manchester, England, --George Smith Hayter, Highgate, London, 1o.
ANSWERS TO- ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before March 20, from "Aunt Arabella"-H. F.
Davis-Cuchee Smith-Florence G. Lane-The Houghton Family-S. R. T.-Clara Franc and Co.-Arthur Gride-K. M. B.-
Professor and Co.-"Alcibiades "- Fannie, Sadie, Fanny, and Carrie Belle Bartholomew -"Charles "-Olive M. Allen-" Two Sub-
scribers" Pinnie and Jack- Paul Reese- Amy G. Torrance- Helen Peirce- C. and Wm. V. Moses- Mama and Bae- Sam Pell-
Marie, Annie, Mamma and Papa-"Town and Country"-Helen F. Turner-Clara J. Child-Francis W. Islip-D. B. Shumway-
Appleton H.-Sallie Viles-Katie Schoonmaker-The Martins-Lillie C. Lippert-John W. Reynolds-Lottie A. Best-Carey
Melville Grace Eddington and Mrs. B.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before March 20, from Adrienne M. Duysters, -Andrew L. Riker,
4-Philip Embury, Jr., 9- L. Fleetwood, I -C. R. Williams, i R. Parker, z Dorsey Schenck, i -N. Holly, i Maud Houghton,
i-Wilson Brainard, 2-May Pierson, I-B. C. Boulton, I-D. N. Babbitt, H- Helen L. Towne, -May Rogers, r -A. M. Hill, I
--Myra L. Clark, 4--S. W. Thurber, i-G. Cornett, I--Ella Shaw, 5-B. and L. Veiller, r--F. T. Vernon, -F. R. Gadd, --L.
C. Estabrook, I -Ruth D. and Sam'1 H. Camp, 7--G. M. Hall, i-J. C. Bunell, i -Julia Gates, i-Carl Niemeyer, 5-C. Robinson,
i- Oulagiskit, 6--Samuel M. Leiper, 5- Geo. T. Parkes, Arthur, G. B. Jr., i- Roy Guion; 6- E. E. Neff, 2- I. Ries, -
Severance Burrage, xo-A. Blanche B., 2-N. Morganstern, King Arthur, G. Cosgrave, Tiksigaluo, 9-M. S. S. F. Club,
--L. Wardell, i--Charley Weymouth, 6-A. B. Hall, --R. Stone, i -Harry B. Sparks, 8-Julia B. Arnwine, i--Ethel, i--Mona
Downs, ix-Ralph S. Whiting, x--G. F. Blandy, i--N. B. Gisburne, -x-W. A. Bearmore, i--Clarence A. Cobleigh, 12-Anna L.
Minich, 2-Wm. Koehnle, ra-CChas. Westcott, x2-Calla, 4- G. Butts, -E. Polemann, x-G. H. Williams, x-J. W. Preston, Jr.,
9-L. Oates, x-E. T., --Alice P. Pendleton, r--Edith' and Geneva, I -Willie Trautwine, 6-Effie K. Talboys, i--Mary C.
Burnam, 6- Kendall Family, Rosy and Posy, S. Bessie Saunders and Mamma, 6--Wallace K. Gaylord, 6--G. Austin, 2 -
Nellie Taylor, 2- Star, --Nellie and Mamie, 6-Xenophon, 8-Vin and Henry, so-Mary Livingston, i-Ellie S. Vail, 2-C. M.
Philo, r-Trail, I -W. T. H., i-Daisy and Dandelion, 4-T. Haynes, --W. R. Hamilton, 2--Hessie D. Boylston, 9-W.
Kinsey, --N. Duff, x-G. Lineburgh, x-L. I., i--"Judge T_ Tr-The McK.'s, 6-Harry R. Wicks, 6-F. Andreas, s-
Clarence H. Woods, 2-W. M. Shipp, Jr., 4-E. B. Judkins, i--' i. Oro, 12-Anna H. Ransom, 8-Willie -H. Park, 9-Alecia
and Jessica, 8-Scrap, xi- Minnie B. Murray, 12- George Lyman Waterhouse, 20-" Patience," 6-W. S. D. Moore, 9 -Nellie and
Harold Crowell, 5-E. Reyemllac, 9- "Lode Star," 8-Alice Cantine, 9-Dycie, 12-Vessie Westover, 4-Julia A. Groff, -Ina, 3
- Chas. Haynes Kyte, 12 -"A. P. Owder, Jr.," 12-Nellie Caldwell, 5-Dick and Annie Custer, 6 B. P. Gause, I- George Smith
Hayter, o--No Name, 7 -Jennie Koehler, 5-Valerie, 6-D. C. Hicks, 4-"M. N. Bank," 2-Viola and Louise, 7-Algernon
Tassin, 8-Arthur and Florence, I-Checkley, 3 Alice H. Foster, I -Willie C. Anderson, 2-Pernie, so-VenieAtwood, 6S-Bertie B.
Wordfin, I -Louis E. Osborn, 2 Tillie Kirchstein, 2 Clara and her Aunt, 12- Frank White, I Hester M. F. Powell, 6 Mary A.
Piper, i -George Mather, 5. Numerals denote the number of puzzles solved.



". K"eep yur Card ithi. Pocket and return it
.- with -lie'book to the library.

.' ,.. -:LP .

........Aperso i wfilly and maliciously .
-' ri s uion- or injares a60'k, plate, picture,
S.'. :engraving or etatue belonging to a-law, town
republic li.rary, sli1 be fined not more than
ione thousan-d dollars, nor less tharinfive dol-
Sars." Section .6978, of the General Laws
6 :f f:Verrnont, 191..



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