Front Cover
 The gilded boy
 The conscientious cat
 Back again!
 His one fault
 Who's afraid in the dark
 Little sailor Jack in England
 Driven back to Eden
 Historic girls: Zenobia of...
 The boys' club
 A fool's wisdom
 Easter morning (pictures)
 Ready for business; or, choosing...
 "Love is blind"
 "Uncle Ben"
 Among the law-makers
 The robin and the chicken
 "The grand Pacific"
 The children of the cold
 For very little folk: My little...
 Editorial notes
 The letter-box
 The Agassiz association - Forty-ninth...
 The riddle-box
 Great expectations (picture)
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00155
 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: VID00155
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
    The gilded boy
        Page 402
        Page 403
        Page 404
        Page 405
        Page 406
    The conscientious cat
        Page 407
        Page 408
        Page 409
        Page 410
        Page 411
    Back again!
        Page 412
    His one fault
        Page 413
        Page 414
        Page 415
        Page 416
        Page 417
        Page 418
    Who's afraid in the dark
        Page 419
    Little sailor Jack in England
        Page 420
        Page 421
        Page 422
    Driven back to Eden
        Page 423
        Page 424
        Page 425
        Page 426
        Page 427
        Page 428
        Page 429
        Page 430
        Page 431
        Page 432
    Historic girls: Zenobia of Palmyra
        Page 433
        Page 434
        Page 435
        Page 436
        Page 437
        Page 438
    The boys' club
        Page 439
        Page 440
        Page 441
        Page 442
        Page 443
    A fool's wisdom
        Page 444
        Page 445
        Page 446
        Page 447
    Easter morning (pictures)
        Page 448
        Page 449
    Ready for business; or, choosing an occupation
        Page 450
        Page 451
    "Love is blind"
        Page 452
    "Uncle Ben"
        Page 453
        Page 454
    Among the law-makers
        Page 455
        Page 456
        Page 457
        Page 458
        Page 459
        Page 460
    The robin and the chicken
        Page 461
    "The grand Pacific"
        Page 462 (MULTIPLE)
        Page 463
        Page 464
    The children of the cold
        Page 465
        Page 466
        Page 467
        Page 468
        Page 469
        Page 470
        Page 471
    For very little folk: My little house
        Page 472
        Page 473
    Editorial notes
        Page 474
    The letter-box
        Page 475
    The Agassiz association - Forty-ninth report
        Page 476
        Page 477
    The riddle-box
        Page 478
        Page 479
    Great expectations (picture)
        Page 480 (MULTIPLE)
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

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APRIL, 1885.

No. 6.

[Copyright, 1885, by THE CENTURY CO.]

A True Story of a Florentine Pageant in 1492.


ON one of the obscure streets of the city of
Florence, many years ago, two cavaliers stopped
one day to watch a group of children engaged in
play. One little half-clad fellow, with the face
and form of a cherub, seemed to attract their spe-
cial attention. They looked at him, and then ad-
dressed each other, smiling often, but speaking so
low that no one overheard what was said.
Come here, my child," one of them at last
But the child, on perceiving who called him,
retreated behind one of the older boys, from under
whose arm he took a sly look at the strangers.
Come, my child," again said the cavalier, in
a coaxing tone, "and I '11 give you a florin." And
he held out the coin invitingly.
Go go !" urged the older boy; and the little
fellow crept slowly forward.
"What is your name ?"
"And where do you live?"
Over yonder," said the little fellow, pointing
with his finger to a small house across the way.
Is your mother at home ?"
"Yes, sir."
Then lead us to her, for we wish to speak to
The little fellow, accompanied by his brother,
immediately crossed the street followed by the
two strangers, and the whole party entered the
house. The visit was not a long one, and the

strangers had scarcely gone before the elder of the
two boys came running to his playmates, crying
"What do you think? Giovanni is going to
the Magnifico's palace! He 's going to have a
crimson cap with a feather in it, and a little cloak
all covered with gold, and he's going to ride in a
grand chariot, and oh --"
But here he stopped for want of breath, and
stood with dilated eyes and flushed cheeks, pant-
ing with excitement.
"Do you think we are all fools?" replied his
companions. "What does the Magnifico want
with a little beggar ? "
Giovanni 's not a beggar," retorted the boy.
"Just wait until to-morrow, and you '11 see."
And, sure enough, to-morrow they did see.
For about noon a carriage, as beautiful as Cin-
derella's, dashed up to the door of the humble
home. Then, who should come out of the house
but little Giovanni and his mother, both dressed
in their holiday clothes; and, before the group of
children around the door could recover from their
surprise, the child and his proud mother had en-
tered the carriage and were driven rapidly away.
After a short ride, the carriage drew up before
the palace of the Medici, on one of the grandest
streets of Florence. Alighting, the mother and
child were led up a flight of steps into a large
hall, where richly dressed people were coming and
going continually, or standing idly by, gayly talk-



ing and laughing. Passing through this and many
other apartments, they were shown into a little
room, far withdrawn, where several gentlemen with
plumed caps and long swords were waiting for
"Ah I is this the child?" cried one, as they
entered; but without waiting for an answer he
continued: Come, my boy, and we '11 give you
a suit of clothes such as never mortal wore."
After some gentle entreaty, still holding to his
mother's hand, Giovanni drew near, and allowed
the loose dress that he wore to be taken off.
"Now, my little one, let me put you on this
table; I have something to show you."
And, still clinging to his mother's hand, the
child was lifted to the table.
See," said the gentleman, holding up a tiny
sheet of gold that quivered and fluttered in the
air, so light was it.
Pretty," said the child, touching it delicately.
Shall I put some on Giovanni's foot, and
make it gold, too ?"
Yes," said the boy, laughing.
The gentleman had with him a peculiar liquid,
into which he dipped a brush, and anointed
Giovanni's plump foot; then, with a quick motion
of the hand, he applied the precious material, and
in a moment the child's foot looked as if it had
become solid gold; even the little pink nails were
Now we '11 put some up here," said the gen-
tleman, touching the round leg. Make Gio-
vanni gold all over."
And thus amusing the little fellow, he pro-
ceeded, working rapidly, until nearly half of the
boy's body was covered with gold.
Before the work had advanced to this stage,
however, his mother interfered.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed. "You
told me Giovanni was to be clothed in a beautiful
crimson satin suit, and ride in a car with other
children. You did not tell me you were going to
do this."
That is true, my good woman, but you see
we have altered our plan, and we will give him a
golden suit instead of a satin one."
But not until ten crowns had been promised
her did the mother cease her expostulation, and
by that time both she and Giovanni were weeping.
At this, the gentleman grew angry, and spoke
so sharply that the affrighted child choked
back his sobs, and the poor mother sank to her
seat, scarcely daring to breathe as she saw the
work rapidly advancing, and her little boy cov-
ered with gold from the tips of his ears to the ends
of his toes. When, however, the operation was
completed, and she saw how beautiful he looked,

and that he felt no pain, she gathered courage
enough to laugh at some merry remark the gen-
tleman made; and when he told her how all her
neighbors would envy her happiness, and wish
their little boys could have taken Giovanni's
place, why, what else could she do but believe
it, and begin to feel quite contented ?
The fair city of Florence awoke early next day,
and every house and palace seemed to empty its
inmates into the street. Over many of the prin-
cipal thoroughfares great arches of antique and
elaborate design had been thrown, while pennons,
banners, and flags fluttered in silken folds on
every side. Rich carpets and wondrous pieces of
tapestry were flung over the balcony-railings and
drooped from the windows of many dwellings, and
everything was done that ingenuity could suggest to
give the city a festive appearance. For Lorenzo de
Medici, called the "Magniico," or the "Magnifi-
cent," the powerful and wealthy chief magistrate
of Florence, had promised the people a "triumph,"
as it was called, such as they had never before seen;
and as they had witnessed innumerable cavalcades,
masquerades, and mythological pageants, much
wonder was expressed as to what could be done to
make this one surpass the last, which in general
estimation had exceeded all others. So the whole
city was on the very tip-toe of expectation.*
Here they come was at last passed from lip
to lip, and there they came indeed. Heading the
column was a cavalcade of noble gentlemen clothed
in silver armor, with long plumes drooping from
their helmets, while the trappings of their horses
sparkled with jewels.
Rumbling on behind them, drawn by two oxen
with gilded horns and hoofs, and covered with
leaves, came a magnificent car, on which sat figures
representing certain gods of ancient mythology.
Accompanying the car were twelve shepherds, clad
in costly robes of ermine, with sandals on their
feet, bearing baskets of fruit and flowers, and
crowned with garlands of leaves. The horses on
which these shepherds were mounted had for sad-
dles the skins of lions, tigers, and lynxes, whose
claws were gilded. The spurs were shaped in the
form of the heads of rams, dogs, and other ani-
mals; the bridles consisted of tresses of silver and
Thus car after car, accompanied by bands of
music, rolled by, each differing entirely from the
others, and in many points surpassing in mag-
nificence those that preceded it.
On one, drawn by four elephants, sat a person
dressed to represent Julius Caesar, the greatest
of the Roman generals. This car was covered
with pictures of the most famous achievements
of the conqueror. Here he was seen landing

* A sketch of one of these pageants of Lorenzo the Magnificent was given in ST. NICHOLAS for.March, 1884, in the series of" Historic Boys."




on the shore of Britain, his soldiers around
him, his war-galleys on the sea, the throngs of
barbarians in front. In another, he rode his horse
into the waters of the Rubicon; in another, he sat
enthroned in the Roman senate. Twelve cava-
liers, whose brilliant arms were enriched with gold,
followed this car. Each cavalier carried a great
lance, and was accompanied by his squire, who
bore a torch in his right hand.
But now the crowd gazed in silent amazement,
for approaching them was a car that excited their
highest admiration and wonder. It was drawn by
twelve winged horses. Their harnesses were gilded,
as were their hoofs, while even their shoes were
yellow with the precious metal. The sides of the
car they drew were covered with elaborately carved
figures, all overlaid with gold. Among others
were four female figures representing Faith, Hope,
Charity, and Humility. In the middle of the car
was an immense golden globe, on the top of which
was stretched the effigy of a knight clad in old and
rusty armor. Close beside this, and as if issuing
from it, the people saw a chubby boy, with his
bare body gilded from head to foot. His hair,
glistening with diamond dust, looked as if each
thread were of spun gold; and, shining in the sun-
light, it made a halo about his beautiful face. The
little boy was full of life. He was constantly in
motion, turning this way and that to gaze down
on the crowd or up at the balconies. Often, [in
answer to some expression of admiration and en-
dearment, his lips parted with a smile, displaying
his pearly teeth. Several times he stretched out
his hands to the crowd, with the grace that only
childhood knows.
It was Giovanni.
And so the car rolled on; it was intended to
symbolize that the Iron Age the age of war,
want, and ignorance-was dead, and that from
its body had sprung the Golden Age the age of
peace, plenty, virtue, happiness, refinement, and
But where was Giovanni's mother ? She set out
in the morning, determined to keep near her boy
throughput the whole march. Indeed, it was only
with this assurance that she succeeded in quieting
his fears, and persuading him to remain on his
elevated seat. For a while she found no difficulty
in carrying out her purpose, and walked along
with no little feeling of pride and pleasure as
she saw how bravely Giovanni was playing his
part, and what unfeigned admiration he excited.
When, however, the long procession entered the
chief thoroughfares, it passed through such dense
masses of people that she found it impossible to
advance a step. The crowd, pressed back against
the houses, stood still, and there was nothing for

the poor woman to do but stand still also, until
the whole pageant had gone far beyond her.
Once released, she sped on rapidly, though
rudely jostled by the crowd, and becoming, as the
day advanced, very foot-sore and weary. Once she
missed her way altogether, by turning down a
by-street in the direction in which she thought the
procession was passing, but only to find, to her
dismay, that it had taken an opposite course, and
that all her labor was for nothing.
When at length she regained her place, a little
incident occurred that amused her, in spite of her
fatigues. She found the car brought to a stop,
the winged horses pawing the ground impa-
tiently. Giovanni, who till that time had borne
up bravely, began to grow weary and impatient at
such unaccustomed confinement in one spot, and
not seeing his mother in the crowd or any friendly
face he began to cry. So the car was stopped, and
some one mounted to the top of the golden globe
by means of a ladder, and tried to soothe him.
"What do you want, my child ?" said the man.
I want my Mamma," replied he, between his
"Well, don't cry; we 'll take you to your
Mamma as quickly as possible. Don't you want
something to eat? Don't you want a piece of
cake ?"
Yes," said the boy.
So the little Golden Age sat on his car with a
huge piece of cake in his chubby hands, which
he ate greedily, to the great diversion of the
The men laughed.
The women said, "Dear little fellow and
wanted to kiss him.
The boys mimicked him.
I want my Mamma! bawled a great fellow,
with legs as long and slim as a grasshopper's.
"Don't you want a piece of cake?" piped a
shrill voice behind him.
Yes," was the answer.
And, for several days after, the boys were heard
calling thus to each other on the streets of Flor-
ence, until Lorenzo the Magnificent himself heard
it, and laughed heartily when told what it meant.
At length the long day came to a close, and the
weary and anxious mother clasped her boy to her
Now take off the gold, and let us go home,"
she cried. Take it off! Take it off!" she re-
iterated vehemently.
But when the attempt was made, the work of
removing the gold was found to be a difficult one.
The child, already overtasked, could not or would
not endure it. His restless efforts ended in frantic
struggles to free himself; and at last the gentle-




man who had the matter in hand rose impatiently,
saying: Take him home, good woman. When
he has rested, I '11 come and remove the gold.
Take him home; it is useless to think of removing
it now."
So the mother took her boy in her arms and
returned to her home.
All that night there was feasting and dancing in
the Magnifico's palace. But in the humble home
-of Giovanni there was neither mirth nor joy. The
little fellow was wakeful, and tossed about on his
cot in feverish restlessness, calling repeatedly for
a drink of water, and taking only a sip when it
was offered him. And when the gentleman came,
in accordance with his promise, though late in the
day, the child was in a raging fever.
He is sick with over-excitement and fatigue,"
said the gentleman, "and he will soon recover.
But we can not remove the gold to-day; we must
get him well first, then the other will be a matter
of small concern."
But it was not a matter of small concern. For
when the leech or doctor was called in he looked
at the little Gilded Boy very seriously, knit his
brows, shook his head, opened a vein in the
chubby arm, and, administering some powders,
promised to call the next day. But the next day was

too late. The gold-leaf that had shone so brightly
all over the body of the little boy was really doing
deadly work. It closed the pores or tiny openings
of the skin, and, as all you young students of
physiology know, these can not be closed with-
out endangering health and life. As the gold
could not be removed, the fever of the Florentine
boy increased, and before many hours had passed
poor little Giovanni died.
It was a sad ending to all the brilliancy and
beauty of that grand procession in which the
little fellow played so important a part; but in
those old days human life was not held so highly
as now, and one street boy the less made slight
difference to the proud and ambitious rulers who
studied only their own pleasure and desires. There
were then no societies for the Prevention of Cruelty
to Children, such as we now have -societies that
look after poor children, and protect and care for
those who are exposed to ill-treatment. And
although this Lorenzo de Medici, whom men
called the Magnificent," boasted that his was
an age of prosperity and progress, we know how
much better a day we live in, when no one, however
rich or powerful he may be, would dare to do so
cruel a thing as was done to the poor little Gilded
Boy of Florence four hundred years ago.







IT was a curious place for a cat-the lonely which must be her only refuge. As I did so a
"Hydraulic Mines," on the crest of the Sierra dog's head was thrust cautiously out-only the
Nevada Mountains in California. Where she came head-and then stopped. Round the corner of
from, no one could tell. My acquaintance with her the hut dashed the flying cat, and, before the dog's


was made in a singular and altogether startling
manner. It was in this wise: I was visiting the
mines, and, under the guidance of the super-
intendent, had just passed over the brow of a great
hill crowned with a thick growth of magnificent
sugar pines, when suddenly we came upon the Hy-
draulic Mines-so lonely, so dreary, so utterly
uninviting in appearance and situation, that I could
not help asking, Could anything but a gold-hunt-
ing man be induced to live in such a place? "
"Wait and see," replied the superintendent as
he walked in the direction of a rough shanty used
by the miners as a place of shelter.
Just then I was startled at seeing a white cat
come dashing toward us at full speed, her tail puffed
out to an enormous size, and apparently pursued by
a number of men armed with picks and crowbars.
Full of sympathy for the poor cat making such
a wild race for her life, I glanced toward the shanty

head could be drawn in, there came a violent col-
lision, and a perfect storm of howls and hisses
which marked the meeting of the angry cat and
the much astonished dog. In spite of my sym-
pathy, I could not help laughing heartily at this
ludicrous collision-and my laugh was echoed by
the cruel men who, as I supposed, were chasing
poor pussy with murderous designs. But my
laughter was suddenly cut short as I saw what
seemed to be the great mountain sliding directly
upon me, and, following the example of the cat,
I turned and fled for shelter to the hut, while the
men redoubled their laughter.
"What under the sun is the matter? I asked,
perplexed alike by the cat, the rushing men, and
the moving mountain.
And then, with many jokes and muc ughter,
the whole matter was explained.
It appears that one cold and stormy night,


about a year before my visit to the mines, the
men were startled by a pitiful mewing outside
the camp. One of the miners, following up the
sound of distress, soon returned with a most for-
lorn and miserable-looking kitten, more dead than
alive. How she came to that desolate camp and

late spot, brought back memories of their boyhood
and the old homes far to the east in Maine woods
or on New Hampshire hills, and called up, for all
of them, a picture of the happy childhood days
before the fever of adventure had led them so far
from the dear old home in the mad race for gold.

t ." .. .
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'I '




where she came from was a mystery, but the
miners, naturally tender-hearted, and welcoming
anything that brought a change in the monotony
of their my' life, took pity on the foundling and
at once yited her. Perhaps, too, the sight of
such a home-body as a cat, away off in that deso-

Well, whatever their thoughts, they adopted the
cat and made her so warm and comfortable, with
plenty of milk to drink and a warm fire to curl be-
fore, that pussy was soon purring away as content-
edly as if she had never been a homeless wanderer.
There is no such thing as stopping work in the



- -~-- __gl. -I-L LII


mines. Day and night the work goes on, and the
men are divided into day and night gangs, each
of which works for a certain length of time, reliev-

destination, pussy at once took up her position near
her friend and carefully watched the proceedings.
.A hydraulic mine, my young readers must


ing the other at regular intervals. So it hap- know, is one in which water is made to take the
opened that pussy, dozing before the fire, was part of pick and shovel. A tremendous pressure
aroused by a stir in the room, and glancing up forces the water through a great iron pipe three or
saw the miner who had rescued and cared for her four feet in diameter, and sends it in a torrent

I (I i



preparing to go out to his work. Determined not
to lose sight of her preserver, she jumped up and
followed him. When the men arrived at their

against the bank of dirt in which the j ishid-
den. This mighty stream of water w es away
the bank and brings it caving and tumbling down,


while it separates the gold from the gravel, and
with the occasional assistance of blasting powder
does a vast amount of mining work.
It was at one of these hydraulic mines that the
fugitive cat had found friends; and as after sev-
eral visits she lay watching their operations, she





seemed to reason it all out in her own mind that
as soon as the great dirt-bank opposite her showed
signs of giving way under the action of the water
forced against it, the men would rush for shelter to
the shanty near by, to which, of course, she too
would scamper to escape the falling earth. So,
reasoned pussy, if these kind friends of mine are
always in danger from these tumbling-down banks,
why cannot I, in return for their kindness, watch
the dirt-banks and give them proper warning ?
Now, as you all know, there is nothing a cat
dislikes so much as water; just watch your kitty
shake 1la paws daintily when she steps into a
puddle,1 see how disgusted she is if a drop of
water false on her nose or back. But this Sierra

Nevada pussy was a most conscientious cat. She
felt that it was her duty to make some sacrifice for
her friends, and so, after thinking it all over, she
took her place right on top of the nozzle of the
"monitor" (as the big iron pipe through which the
water is forced is called), and here, in spite of
occasional and most unwelcome shower-baths, she
would watch for the first movement of the falling
bank, when away she would go like a flash with all
the miners at her heels until they all reached the
shelter of the hut. So faithfully did she perform her
self-imposed task that, in a little while, the men
gave up their precaution of keeping one eye on the
dangerous slide and waited for puss to give the sig-
nal. As soon as they saw her spring down from the
comfortable bed which the miners, had made for
her on the "monitor," they would all cry, "The
cat; the cat! and start on a run for the shanty.
And it was at just such a moment that I came to
the mine and encountered this most conscientious
cat leading her friends to safety.
She soon learned also to distinguish between
the various phases of hydraulic mining; and when
the monitor was being used simply for washing
the gold or for general "cleaning up purposes,
she knew that there was no danger, and would
serenely close her eyes and take a comfortable
nap on her cushion, regardless of what was going
on around her, until by some strange instinct she
knew that the "monitor" was turned upon the
bank again, and was awake and watchful in an
instant. Her very color, too, was a help to her
friends, as, being a white cat, she served on dark
nights as a guide to the men who came to relieve
the gang to which pussy belonged, and which no
consideration would induce her to desert.
Now, it happened that about the time of pussy's
appearance at the mine a very unprepossessing
mongrel pup had been left at the camp, as not
worth taking away, and so he too was adopted by
the kind-hearted miners. But alas the dog proved
as great a coward as the cat was a heroine. His
only thought was to look out for number one, and
he did that so thoroughly that when he too had
learned that a sudden move on the part of the men
meant danger, he would scud into the hut in an
agony of fear, and, like the dastardly dog he was,
retreat into the farthest corner with his tail between
his legs. Evidently, when I first made his acquaint-
ance, he had not heard them rushing toward the hut
and had thus been caught napping, and hence the
collision I had witnessed. He was such a good-for-
nothing that the men called him "Tailings "-which
also nians the refuse gravel and dirt out of which
every speck of gold has been taken. And in such
awe did he stand of Pussy that, though they took
their meals together, Tailings" always waited





until pussy had finished before he presumed to You don't know, boys and girls, how greatly this
take a bite, wagging his tail until the ground was story of the miners' cat pleased me. All my life
swept clean, and whining I had been taught to look
meanwhile with hunger .upon the dog as the type
and impatience. Once, of nobility, faithfulness,
and once only, he en- and courage, from the
deavored to assert him- ..- big St. Bernard to the
self and take a bite be- pet pug or poodle, al-
fore his betters. Pussy most too fat to waddle
stopped eating, looked by his mistress's side.
the culprit sternly in the And I h ad always been
eye, and then, slowly lift- told that the cat was the
ing her paw, brought it "' embodiment of treach-
down with a sudden blow ery, selfishness, and cun-
exactly in the center of ning-although, between
the dog's nose. "Tail- .. you and me, I had always
ings gave such a howl really loved the cats the
that the miners thought the whole mountain was best. And here on the Sierra Nevada Mountains
caving in, and rushed out to see what was the mat- I had a new revelation, and I left the Hydraulic
ter. Pussy went on calmly finishing her dinner, Mines well pleased-with my visit, and especially
and "Tailings" never again presumed to eat at pleased that my favorite animal had been so com-
the first table, to rebel against Pussy's rules, pletely vindicated.

"-k CTo"m- o3 xo oce, O..

yo -- 6-rrik y tT o .,

POie5 le tI cav90xy oio- io 4oiqz I-

i k2 Poo W- tboo qook ,Vo a0 to




THE chill snows lingered, the spring was late,
It seemed a weariful while to wait
For warmth, and fragrance, and song, and flowers,
And balmy airs and delicious showers.
But we bided our time, and with patient eyes
We watched the slowly relenting skies,
Till at last one April morning we woke
To find we were free of the winter's yoke,
And a rush of wings through the rushing rain
Told us the birds were back again.
A joyous tumult we heard aloft-
Clear, rippling music and flutterings soft.
So light of heart and so light of wing,
a, All hope of summer, delight of spring,
They seemed to utter with voices sweet,
Upborne on their airy pinions fleet.
Dainty, delicate, lovely things!
Would that my thoughts, like you, had wings
To match your grace, your charm, your cheer,
Your fine, melodious atmosphere!
Precious and beautiful gifts of God,
Scattered through heaven and earth abroad!
Who, ungrateful, would do you wrong,
Check your flight and your golden song?

O friendly spirits 0 sweet, sweet birds !
Would I could put my welcome in words
Fit for such singers as you to hear,
Sky-born minstrels and poets dear!






LATE to bed that night, the harassed and weary
Christopher slept until a late hour the next morn-
ing; Aunt Gray thinking it best he should not be
Let him sleep when he can," said that really
pitying lady, adjusting her cap for the day. He
has trouble enough before him "
He, trouble! What do you think of me?"
said Uncle Gray, wheezing with asthma over a
narcotic weed he was burning in a saucer. But
let him sleep I don't want anything more of the
services of a boy like that I should n't have this
attack if it had n't been for "
Wheeze! cough A fresh attack stopped his
speech; while the puffs of smoke curled upward,
past the craggy brow and thickets of stiff iron-
gray locks, filling the air with a bluish cloud and
a pungent odor.
It must have been the odor which finally awak-
ened Kit in his attic. He knew it meant asthma,
or "azmy," as the old folks termed it; and he
started up instantly with a guilty consciousness of
his situation. Uncle Gray was always crabbed and
exacting, as short of temper as he was short of
breath, even on ordinary occasions of his attack;
what then must he be after such a night as Kit
had caused him to pass?
With sickening recollections of the strange horse
in the barn, and misgivings as to the time of day,
the boy got up, and, with gasps and tremors of anx-
iety, began to put on his clothes. He felt that he
was an outcast wretch, no longer of any account in
the household; not suspecting that it was partly
owing to his aunt's kindness that he had not been
He was surprised at her gentle manner toward
him when he appeared in the kitchen; telling him
to sit down to his breakfast, taking it from the
oven, where she had been keeping it warm.
"Abram has done the chores," she said,-a piece
of news which did not much tend to lighten the
weight of condemnation under which he felt him-
self bowed to the dust. The day was dull and
foggy, and it was even later than he had surmised.
' Your uncle is n't well this morning."
I smelt the smoke," Kit murmured miserably.
"It 's all owing to last night, I suppose."
"Partly to that, I guess, and partly to the
change in the weather. Mental trouble 's often

wus for him than a damp air. But eat your break-
fast, and don't worry," said Aunt Gray.
I can't help worrying," said Kit, with starting
tears at her kind words.
He had little appetite, yet he felt that he must
eat for strength in the day's business before him.
He must go and look at that horse first, however,
a duty from which he shrank. It seemed to him
that he could never look at a horse again without
a spasm of conscience.
He went out heroically, however, and re-exam-
ined the beast by daylight, wondering more and
more at himself for having mistaken him, even in
his haste and in the dusk, for Dandy Jim. He
watered and fed him, reviewing at the same time
all the circumstances of the evening before, and
then returned to the house, fully resolved upon
what he was to do.
"Can I see Uncle?" he asked, after forcing
himself to eat the breakfast awaiting him.
"I 'm afraid 't wont be any great satisfaction to
you," Aunt Gray replied, but you can see him."
Kit knocked timidly at the bedroom door, and
a gruff Come in ushered him into a room full
of smoke, in the midst of which sat his uncle at a
light stand, burning his weed again, with his face
over the saucer.
"Wal, f'r instance! growled the old gentle-
man, barely giving him a glance through the thick
cloud. "What do you think of yourself this
morning? "
His voice ended in a cough, which tapered to a
wheeze, made as deep and long-drawn and distress-
ing as possible, in order to show Kit what suffering
he had caused his poor old phthisicky uncle.
Kit made no direct reply to the question, but
said humbly:
I suppose that horse must go back."
Go back! Of course he must go back. I wish
he could stay! I want a hoss to-- I hoped
the weather w'd gra'jally clear up- so I could -
ventur' out -hire a horse, and drive over tu -tu
Peaceville-leadin' the one you- Here his
words were quite lost for a moment in the tumult
of his broken breathing- and see what I could
hear of Dandy."
"It does n't look much like clearing up," Kit
No," buzzed Uncle Gray, bending lower over
the smoking saucer.
It wont do to wait," Kit went on. I meant


to have the horse half-way back there by this time,
and I should if I had n't overslept myself."
You said his uncle, scornfully.
"Yes, sir," said Kit, firmly. "I took the
horse, and I ought to take him back. I can ride
him, and maybe get Dandy yet."
"Nonsense hummed Uncle Gray. "I would
n't trust you with -- -
"You need n't trust me with anything," an-
swered Kit, unless it is a bridle. I can ride bare-
back, if you are afraid to let me have the saddle."
The truth is, Uncle Gray had decided objections
to letting the new horse go until the old one had
come. It seemed a pretty good swap, but for the
slight irregularity attending it, and he had been
studying how it could be reconciled to right and con-
science. He coughed noisily for some time over
the problem, with his nose in the smoke; then,
hearing Kit's hand on the latch, he snarled out,-
Wal it's a bad job I s'pose the hoss has got
to go. And I can't go with him to-day, as I see "
Kit did not wait to hear more, but opened the
door quickly, and shut it again after him, escaping
at once from the smoke he disliked and the inter-
view which was not, in a strict sense, delightful.
He had found the base-ball cap comfortable the
day before; it was at hand as he went out through
the kitchen, and he put it on. Then he curried
and bridled the new horse, and led him from the
He did not mean to take the saddle, not knowing
what he should do with it if he did not have Dandy
to ride home, a happiness he could hardly hope for ;
but he found himself so lame and sore when he
came to mount, with only an old meal-bag between
him and the equine back-bone, that he readily
listened to Aunt Gray's earnest counsel.
"If you must go," she said, "don't think of
riding without the saddle. It's of no great account,
anyway, if it never comes back."
She also made Kit take a little of her own money
for necessary expenses; and sent him off with her
best wishes, and a strict charge not to blunder
into any more trouble."
The horse's walk was torture enough to Kit at
first; and a trot was excruciating. But the lad
forced himself to bear the exercise, and found his
stiff joints limbering up to it before long.
He could not endure to have his mother see him,
after the false good tidings he had brought her the
night before; so he took another street through
the village and, passing beyond, was soon retracing,
with rather less of joy and triumph in his soul, the
course of his recent moonlight ride from Peaceville.
The horse was quite as free as he wished him to
be at first. But as the soreness of his own limbs
wore off, the animal's paces began to relax, and

much clucking; and urging with heels and reins, at
length became necessary.
The more he dreaded meeting the owner
whose beast he had ridden off so unceremoniously,
confessing his error, and suffering he knew not
what reproaches and retribution, the more anxious
Kit was to have it all over with; his conscience,
which was strong, spurring his courage-which
was by no means weak in serious things, timid and
sensitive boy as he was.
He had made about half the distance, when he
stopped to water the horse at a wayside trough.
Near by grew a walnut-tree with boughs overhang-
ing the pump, from the top of which he reached
up and cut a stout twig, for use as a riding-whip in
making the rest of the journey. Then, after
stretching his legs a minute, he remounted, and
went on at a quicker pace.
He had not gone far, however, when he discov-
ered that he had, with his usual heedlessness, left his
knife lying on the top of the pump. He was very
much incensed with himself for falling into the same
old fault, after all his recent lessons; and he hardly
knew at first whether to suffer the loss of the knife
or the pain and chagrin of riding back for it.
It's a full half mile," he said, looking back,
and miles were important to him just then. "If
I was sure of coming this way with Dandy "
But he felt the great uncertainty of his return-
ing with Dandy either by that or any other way.
He could not afford to lose so good a knife; and
this was one that had been his father's.
I'11 go back he exclaimed, after a little re-
flection; "and then make up for lost time by rid-
ing faster." *
It was the first knife he had ever been able to
keep long in his possession; and he had even
mislaid this one, two or three times. He resolved
to recover it now, and then see if he could not
carry it safely in his pocket at least as many
months as his father had carried it years.
As he approached the trough, he noticed a light
wagon coming down another road, which joined
the one he was on at a point not far beyond.
It carried two lads, who, looking across at him,
touched up their horse.
Something in the excited looks they gave him
made Kit almost wish he had not returned for his
knife. The roads converged rapidly; and, when
he reined up at the pump, the rattling wagon
would not have been more than three or four rods
away, if it had not already passed.
The faces in it looked back rather wildly at Kit;
and, after taking his knife from the pump, without
dismounting, he saw with growing alarm, as he
turned about, that, instead of keeping the more di-
rect road beyond the fork, the wagon made a short




turn into the road he was on, and was coming to-
ward him.
He endeavored to act like the innocent boy he
was, and began to ride away again, as if nothing
uncommon was happening. But as the wagon
followed with increasing racket, he could not for-
bear trying his new whip, and striking into a pace
that might have kept those too-eager faces awhile
longer at a distance, but for a startling circum-

BEHIND a low wall, which bounded the upper
side of the triangular field separating the forked
roads, a sturdy youth was seen running. His
parted lips and his crooked arms, flying quickly
back and forth in time with his vibrating legs,
indicated strenuous effort. He had evidently left
the wagon just before Kit sighted it, and had
struck across the lot in order to get behind Kit,
while his companions at the same time whipped
forward so to head off Kit in front.
He was himself heading him off now, since Kit
had turned back from the pump. He leaped over
into the road, and made a rush at his bridle-rein,
while the wagon clattered close behind.
What do you want of me ? Kit gasped out in
some trepidation, no longer trying to escape.
We '11 show you what we want cried Lon,
-for the seeming highwayman was none other
than the eldest of the Benting boys.
He appeared very much excited, seizing Kit's
leg with one hand, while he clung to the rein with
the other.
Get off your stolen horse "
Is this your -horse? inquired Kit.
Rather said Lon, with wild glee. Here,
boys! "
Tom and Charley tumbled from the wagon;
and Kit, half-paralyzed by the suddenness of the
onset and the rude manner of his capture, was
pulled to the ground before he fairly had time to
"Don't tie my hands!" he pleaded, as they
whipped a halter out of the wagon and were pro-
ceeding to bind him with it in no gentle fashion.
I did n't steal him; I took him by mistake."
"Oh, yes said Lon, with gruff sarcasm. "No
doubt! "
That 's what they all say," added Charley.
Always a mistake exclaimed Tom.
But it's so Kit insisted, with pale and trem-
bling innocence, which appeared more like guilt
to the elated Benting boys than guilt itself would
probably have done. I was taking'him back to
"Of course! said Lon.

"Which way is Peaceville? cried Charley.
" The way you were going when we first saw you,
or the way you went after we got in ahead of
you? "
Then Kit saw how unfortunate had proved the
blunder of leaving his knife and having to go back
for it. But for that, he might have passed out of
sight before being described by the boys from the
other wall, and might have returned the horse to
his shed at the cattle-show, in a manner which
would have left no doubt as to his honest inten-
tions; or, if overtaken, he would, at least, have
been found on his way thither. Who would be-
lieve his story now ?
Not the Benting boys, evidently. They tied his
hands behind him, and hustled him into the wagon,
Tom and Charley guarding him, seated between
their knees on the wagon-bottom, as if he had been
some desperate character (poor Kit!), while Lon
mounted the recovered horse and rode near, ready
to lend assistance in case the horse-thief, slipping
his bonds, should attempt to overpower them and
get away.
They had traced the little rider in the white cap
but a short distance out of Peaceville, the night
before, and had been all the morning scouring the
country roads for news of him. No news had they
been able to get; but here was something better
still- the horse and the little chap himself!
Passing the pump and turning at the fork, they
took the road by which they had come, talking
hilariously of their good luck, and now and then
questioning Kit, without, however, givingtheleast
apparent credit to anything he had to say.
"Whose saddle and bridle are these?" Lon
demanded, riding beside the wagon.
They belong to my uncle," replied Kit.
Uncle Oh, yes exclaimed Lon, sarcasti-
"The horse I was after belongs to him, too,"
said Kit, from his ignominious seat on the wagon-
No doubt of that, either! "
Lon did not have a bad heart, by any means;
but he was young, and exhilarated by what seemed
to him a great triumph, and he could not help
showing his amused incredulity.
"Who was the other rogue in league with you
when you stole this horse ? "
"I tell you I did n't steal him," Kit insisted.
"And there was nobody in league with me."
No use of your saying that," Tom retorted.
He pretended somebody had stolen his saddle
and bridle; but we found afterward you and he
had been seen together, and that he helped you
get away with our horse. What do you say to
that? "



I say what I 've been trying to say all along,
only you would n't hear me "
Once more Kit endeavored to make it plain that
there was but one rogue in the transaction, and
that Branlow was the man. But his protestations
fell on unbelieving ears. The evidence they had
gathered, after Branlow left them outside the fair-
grounds, that he was an associate of the little
chap in the white cap, appeared to the boys so
conclusive that they only laughed at their prison-
er's indignant denials.
I hope you caught him I exclaimed Kit.
Of course replied Tom, who thought it wise
to pretend to have caught the supposed accom-
plice, in order to induce their captive to tell them
all about himself.
If he owned up everything, he told you the
only stolen horse was the one he stole from my
uncle,-the one I meant to take when he hurried
me off with yours. If he told you that, he told the
truth; if anything different, he told you what was
Kit spoke passionately, with swelling heart and
starting tears.
He wont dare to say anything else to my
face he added, struggling in vain to bring up
one of his tied hands to his filling eyes. Where
is he now? "
Don't say anything more to him," spoke up
Lon, who did not altogether approve of Tom's
Yet he himself had one more question to ask.
"You 've been expecting to meet your pal
somewhere this morning, have n't you?"
If you mean the horse-thief," replied Kit,
"he 's the last person I 've expected to meet; he
will keep as far away from me as he can! Bring
us together; that 's all I ask. And let me know
what became of his stolen horse. Have you got
that, too ? "
I can't tell you now," Lon replied, trying to
give his words a dark significance. You '11 find
out all you want to know, and maybe a good deal
more, when you are hauled up before the court.
No more talk, boys; but come along "


A RIDE of four or five miles brought the Benting
boys and their captive in sight of a small maple-
grove by the road-side and a large white farm-
house, gleaming behind the screen of foliage and
the colonnades of gray trunks.
The grove was in place of the common country
door-yard, and it was unfenced; a short drive-way
among the trees led directly to the doors of the

house. One of these was open, and in it stood
the most radiant figure Kit had ever beheld.
All the morning had been dull and overcast;
but now the sunshine flashed through broken
clouds, lighting up the maples variegated with the
hues of early autumn, the house-front half in
shadow (it stood back from the grove a little), and
that figure in the door.
Charley, the youngest of the brothers, had ex-
changed his seat in the wagon for Lon's in the
saddle, and he now rode forward under the trees,
swinging his hat, and shouting:
Good news! Good news, Elsie "
This was in fact the home of the Bentings,
which Elsie, with poetical school-girl fancy, had
named "Maple Park." The figure in the door was
Elsie herself, radiant with joy at sight of Charley
on the recovered horse, and of the captive he
pointed out, following with his brothers.
"Oh you 've got him, too?" she said. "So
you have!" noticing the white cap, which had
been much talked of as the distinguishing mark
of the little rider last seen with the missing horse.
Rogue as they deemed him, the boys in
the wagon had taken pity on Kit, in his painful
posture, on the bottom-board, and had put him up
on the seat between them; though they had
not untied his hands. As they brought him to
the door, Elsie's countenance lost something of its
radiance, though nothing of its beauty. She was
really a very pretty, fresh-complexioned blonde.
She had the brightest, sweetest eyes poor Kit had
ever seen, and now at sight of him, dejected,
bound, and blushing in her presence, they began
to deepen with compassionate concern.
"Where's father?" asked Lon, jumping from
the wagon.
Mr. Benting had also been in quest of his horse
that morning, and finding, on his return home an
hour before, that the boys had not been heard
from, he had started off again.
"Mamma went with him the last time," said
Elsie. He was going to town, to get notices in
the papers, and offer a reward."
That wont be necessary now," said Lon
proudly. How soon can we get a bite to eat?"
When told that dinner would be ready in half
an hour, he exclaimed:
"We can't wait! Give us some bread and
milk, cold meat, pie, and cheese; anything in the
house! We are hungry as wolves, but we must
be off again in five minutes."
Elsie could not keep her eyes away'from the
prisoner; her brow knitted with an expression of
pity and dread, as she thought how young he was,
and yet how wicked.
"Where are you going?" she inquired.


April. ,


"To town, to get out a warrant and give our "Nonsense !" said Lon. "But if you 'd like to
horse-stealer over to the constable," was the reply. ride him, all right. I was thinking of the saddle
Must you?" murmured Elsie, with another and bridle; they probably belong to somebody."
intensely serious glance at Kit in the wagon. "You 'll find they belong to somebody!" said
Of course we must. What else can we do with Kit. "Talk about my stealing your horse! Look
him? Charley," cried Lon, "put the other seat at your own selves; what are you doing?"
"Does hedeny
S- -'it it ?" Elsie whis-
E .,' pered to Tom,
4i. I".-I- in the hall-way.
Sip." Of course
i .P -. he denies it
"'Do you sup-
T 'F -.. T ,, pose he is go-
t ing to own up,
lev G" like a good boy?
SSee what a sur-
Sly, hang- dog
look he has "

VOL 'X:He does
S,' i amiable, to be
S.I "'" sure," said El
S, sie. "I don't
.' -,1 wonder he ap-
S' pears angry
F I and ashamed !
PAK He has been
Z "crying, has n't
r- he ?" she add-
ed, as she no-
I 2 ticed the streaks
on Kit's face,
,' ', i where the dust
,I i, of the road had
I settled on the
tracks of tears
"''.x I he had been
-' '' g1 unable to wipe
'I- ,away.
...Yes he
II_._I. ., cried, and
.. -- ... pleaded, and
..I ...,7- told all sorts of
stories, to make
-. us let him off
But we don't go
a-hunting such
game everyday
.... .in the year,"
we, boys ?"
into the wagon, then we can all ride in that, and "He must have been led into it by some
leave General at home." older person," Elsie declared. I expected to
"We 'd better take General along," suggested see a hardened wretch, with a bad, wicked face;
Charley. "We may need him to put in the evi- and I never was more surprised! If he had
dence." n't been caught with the horse in his possession,
VOL. XII.-27.



I could n't believe that he had a hand in stealing
him "
".Of course you could n't! said Tom, who had
followed Elsie to the kitchen. Girls don't know
about such things, anyway. But now let 's see
what there is to eat."
He washed his soiled hands and dusty face at
the sink; while Elsie, with the aid of a stout
serving-woman, set out a hasty luncheon in the
large middle room of the farm-house.
Tom, having made an imperfect toilet, was
going out to stand guard over the prisoner and let
his brothers come in, when his eye rested on the
table, where Elsie was placing knives and forks
and plates.
Are you going to eat with us ?" he asked.
No, indeed !" she replied. "It is all I can
think of doing to feed you."
Then what is that for? "
He pointed at a fourth plate, arranged, with its
knife and fork, at a discreet distance from the
other three, on the end of the large table.
You will give him something to eat, wont
you?" said Elsie.
If we do, it will be in the wagon," said Tom.
Do you suppose we are going to sit at the same
table with a horse-stealer ? "
I will put his plate on the kitchen table, if you
object to his company," said Elsie. I think you
ought to let him get out of the wagon; he looks
very tired, sitting there, with his hands tied! "
Well he '11 have to sit there, with his hands
tied, looking tired, till we take him to Judge
Sweet," muttered Tom.
Elsie said no more, but quietly removed the ob-
jectionable plate to the kitchen table, where she
had it placed, flanked with the knife and fork,
when Lon came in.
He, too, noticed it and frowned at her foolishness
when told for whom it was designed. But he was
older and more reasonable than Tom, and she had
her little argument ready for him.
Of course you will give him something to eat,"
she said. "You would n't wish to be cruel to him,
if he was the worst person in the world; and any-
body can see he isn't that. He isn't as old as
Charley; I don't believe he is much older than I
am! How absurd, to keep him tied there in the
wagon, as if you were afraid of him; afraid he
will knock you all down, and run away from
you, I suppose-three great boys like my big
brothers !"

Lon scowled again, but finally responded, rather
Do as you please; I 'm not afraid only it will
waste a little time. We can just as well watch him
in here as out there."
Kit was accordingly brought into the kitchen,
where, again seeing Elsie, he bashfully begged for
permission to wash his hands at the sink, after
Charley had got through with the basin.
Of course you can cried Elsie, hastening to
fill it with fresh water, while Lon reluctantly untied
the prisoner's hands.
As he could not very well eat with them tied
again, Tom thought they ought, at least, to bind
his legs, and perhaps make him fast to the chair
he sat on at table. But Elsie treated this proposal
with merry scorn.
What are you three great boys thinking of ?"
she whispered, behind Kit's back, as he bent over
the wash-basin. I believe I could keep him from
running away, without help from either of you "
You don't know anything about the tricks of
these rogues," replied Lon, who, however, relaxed
his vigilance sufficiently to let the prisoner sit un-
lashed at the kitchen table, where the brothers, from
their places in the next room, could watch him
through the open door. They were ready to
start up and spring upon him at the first move-
ment he might make to escape; and Lon had a
stout cane within reach.
Elsie went to and fro between the rooms, per-
forming the office of table-girl with graceful alac-
rity,' but stood, at last, watching with almost fas-
cinated eyes the captive as he ate, or tried to eat.
A little soap and water, and a careless brushing
back of the hair from the forehead with his wet
fingers, had wonderfully improved Kit's appearance.
He had a full, fair brow, a good nose, a chin with
an interesting dimple, and ruddy, brown cheeks,
which were blushing again with uneasy conscious-
ness of a pure girl's searching gaze. He kept his
eyes downcast, but she could see that they were
full of gentle expression : and his sensitive lips were
quivering in a way that excited her sympathy.
You don't look like such a person she said,
He forgot his bashfulness in a moment, and
raised his eyes to her face with a look in which
there was a gleam of proud defiance.
"Don't I?" he said. "Well, I am about as
much such a person as your brothers are highway-
men "

(To be continued.)








PERHAPS it may interest the readers of ST.
NICHOLAS to read about a little American boy who
visited England, and what he saw of ships and
sailors while there.
In England it has for several years been the fash-
ion for boys from five to thirteen years of age to
wear real sailors' suits; that is, suits made at the
naval outfitter's, just like those of the man-o'-war's
men. These suits are made of the dark-blue royal
naval serge, with broad collar, sailors' black silk
handkerchief, and lanyard of snow-white braided
cord attached to either whistle or knife. The
breeches are very large about the feet, or else worn
short, reaching only to the knee.
The cap is of dark-blue cloth. On hat or cap
there is always a black silk ribbon bearing the
name of some ship of Her Majesty's navy in gold
letters. The name is selected according to choice,
or by accident, though sometimes because the lad's
father is or was attached to the ship bearing the
name on the ribbon; and again, because the ship
named was the one first visited by the wearer of
the cap.
It is indeed a pretty sight at the sea-side towns
and "resorts," to see so many of these little tars
running about, rowing, sailing, etc., just like a
ship's crew at play on shore. Many look and act
as if they were indeed young sailors, and I am cer-
tain that many would, in fact, like to be mem-
bers of the Queen's navee."
Well, our little Jack, though an American boy,
had to have his sailor-suit, and he first wore it at
a summer resort on the beautiful Isle of Wight.
Although countless sail were in sight daily, and
he could at any hour meet the vigilant coast-guards-
man on his rounds on the high cliffs, yet many
weeks went by before Jack saw an armed ship of
any kind.
The coast-guardsmen are excellent sailors, picked
men, in fact, who have been long at sea. They
are posted all along the English coast, and they
carry powerful spy-glasses so as to spy out smug-
glers and vessels in distress. They are very kind-
hearted and fond of children, and, I believe, espe-
cially of boys dressed, just like themselves, in
man-o'-war costume. The coast-guardsman has
no ship's name on his hat-ribbon, but simply the
words, COAST-GUARD.'" Our little Jack made
friends with some of them, and one day the sailors
asked his papa to let them take the little sailor out
to sea in their coast-guard boat, for a few hours,

to board a cutter. It was hard to decide what to
do about it, but a reluctant consent was given, and
off Jack started with his new-found friends.
The guardsmen had a fine large boat, painted
black outside and oil-finished inside, with hand-
some brass fittings. They placed Jack in the
stern, giving him the tiller-ropes to hold, then they
shoved off, and were soon out of sight, the sailors
rowing and little Jack steering as composedly and
happily as if he actually belonged to the service.
After a long pull, they reached the cutter; and
you can well believe that the crew on the cutter
were surprised to find such a young coxswain in
the guards' boat.
Many kind invitations were given to the little
sailor to come on board and make the cruise of
the English coast. But soon the business of the
guards with the cutter was over, and, the transfers
made, the boat steered back for Ventnor, where
all arrived safely and where Jack found his papa
waiting to welcome him after his voyage.
Jack left the island after a while for Southsea,
which is a part of Portsmouth, a celebrated place
for English ships and sailors. A fine beach and
esplanade extend all the way from Southsea to
Portsmouth, and between the two places is a great
common, where reviews and parades take place
frequently. Sometimes thousands of soldiers
parade at once on this great common. It makes
a fine play-ground for boys, and every afternoon
you will find large crowds of them enjoying the
games, or playing on the beach close by.
The harbor of Portsmouth is always full of ships,
and many of them are war-ships and school-ships
for young sailors. There is a famous dockyard
where war-ships are built and repaired, and where
are vast stores of shot and shell and cannon and
arms of every description. In the channel are an-
chored several ships, among them the "Excellent,"
where sailors' are taught all kinds of gunnery, and
where they receive their certificates of proficiency
in firing. Gun-boats and torpedo-boats practice
nearly every day, in the lower harbor, at targets
floating at regular distances. Below the Excel-
lent" is the great school-ship, "St. Vincent," where
young English sailors learn the first principles of
seamanship, and near by are other ships used as
receiving-ships for sailors. In the harbor opposite
the dock-yards are anchored two old-fashioned war-
ships, the Duke of Wellington and the grand
old "Victory." In the outer harbor are usually




more modern war-ships at anchor, like the Min-
otaur," "Sultan," "Hercules," some of which
distinguished themselves in the bombardment of
Alexandria in 1882. Very often great white troop-
ships, like the Malabar," will arrive loaded with
soldiers coming home from the distant colonies.
One day, while we were at Portsmouth, Queen
Victoria was expected to arrive from France in her

beautiful yacht, the "Victoria and Albert." Large
crowds assembled all about the neighborhood of
the dock-yard where the Queen was to land. The
ships in the harbor were covered with flags from
the water at the bow and over the high masts to
the water under the stern; this is called "dressing
ship." The yards were manned with sailors stand-
ing in line, and every one seemed anxious to make

the sight as beautiful as possible for the beloved
Queen. The crowds waited patiently some hours,
and at last the signals from the high tower of the
dock-yard announced the approach of the yacht.
Slowly the "Victoria and Albert" moved to the
dock, and then the Queen stepped on shore, under
a pavilion of flags. An address was read to her,
and then she entered her beautiful railway-carriage
and started, amid cheers from the
assembled crowds, for Windsor
Our Jack never wearied of vis-
iting ships and sailors, and our
first visit in Portsmouth harbor
we decided should be paid to the
old ship "Victory." How many
of the readers of ST. NICHOLAS
have read of that illustrious naval
commander, Lord Nelson, and
the remarkable battle of Trafal-
gar? Very many, I have no
doubt; but I feel quite sure that
few American boys have visited
Lord Nelson's flag-ship in that
famous battle, the glorious old
Victory," on whose deck the
gallant admiral received his death-
wound, October 21, I805, in the
I Bay of Trafalgar. The "Victory"
led the attack against the com-
bined navies of France and Spain.
It was Lord Nelson's mightiest
victory, and the power of France
Son the ocean was destroyed. The
Good old ship still presents a fine
appearance, and looks strong
enough for another sea-fight.
Few of her original timbers re-
main, however. The Victory"
floats high out of water, and her
ports, from which the cannon
have so often proclaimed Eng-
land's victories, are mostly closed,
and the few guns on board are
used only for firing salutes. The
British flag still waves from the
mast and a small company of
sailors guard the ship.
After coming on board, an es-
cort is provided. Visitors are requested to register
their names and contribute a trifle toward paying
for this escort duty by the crew, whose chief em-
ployment is to show visitors the interesting places
on board. We first went on to the main-deck. A
brass plate set in one part of this deck is inscribed,
"Here Nelson fell." Our guide said that Lord
Nelson had no right to stand near this spot," and

':.- :'"


that "he was killed by one of his own men, who
shot him from the cross-trees"; but we did not
care to listen to such a story, believing, rather, as
indeed is the truth, that Nelson was killed by the
enemy. His showy uniform made a brilliant tar-
get for their riflemen stationed aloft.
The great deck, as it now appears without a sin-
gle gun, looked lonely enough, and we descended,
by way of the decks between, to the cock-pit, where
the gallant sailor died. It is a damp, gloomy, and
silent place, where, on that eventful day, and at the
close of Nelson's greatest battle, the great chief was
tenderly carried. The gallant sailor had requested
that a mantle be thrown over him, so that, as they
passed through the decks, he might not be recog-
nized, lest his crew should lose heart in the despe-
rate struggle. Around him, in the moment. of
death and of victory, stood a few of his faithful
officers waiting for his spirit to take its flight. It
was at Southsea that the hero had embarked to
fight the enemies of his country. The spot is now
marked by one of the "Victory's" old anchors;
and to the same spot, later, came the returning

boats in solemn procession, one of them bearing
the remains of the hero of Trafalgar. What a con-
trast England can well afford generous honors to
such a naval chief.
Our Jack enjoyed with deep interest all he saw
on the Victory," and rowed back evidently much
impressed. The next morning he came into his
papa's bedroom, and had a great battle on the bed
with his sleepy parent. English beds are very high,
and in the midst of the frolic Jack fell off the bed
and upon the floor, with a heavy thump. Of course,
Papa was rather afraid that the little fellow might
be hurt, but Jack scrambled quickly to his feet
and said:
"Papa, please have a brass plate put in this
floor to mark the spot where I fell, for it was a
hard fall."
Many other ships-of-war our little six-year-old
sailor visited, and many forts he built under the
shadow of Southsea Castle; but, in spite of all these
happy days, Grandpa's seemed the best place, after
all, and his patriotism still insisted that there is
no place like America."






maim -0-IM6 iVEM M R






i i L that the
S. poets from
'4 L [he begin-
ning of time
; have writ-
S en about
S light, could
not express
ny joy as I
w that wel-
S come glim-
in',r on the
I fr. Before its
S J.. nnt I had
I.c, awed by
'i-.i rempest as,
Sm a -nnbed with
.cold .,I d shivering
had f-o.. et clothes, I
had waited --a prey
to many terrible fears and surmises; but now I
cried :
Cheer up; here comes a light! Then in my
gladness I shouted the greeting that everywhere
hailed Mr. Jones:
How are YOU, JOHN ? "
Guess you did n't know what had become of
me ? was the reply.
"You're right. Or what was to become of us,
either. Are n't we. nearly home? We are all half
"Just let me spy round a bit with the lantern, and
I'll soon tell you everything." He bobbed back
and forth for a moment or two like a will-o'-the-
wisp. Then he said: Now turn sharp to the left
and follow the light."
A great hope sprung up in my heart and I
hushed Winnie's and Bobsey's crying by say-
ing, Listen, and you 'll soon hear some good
news. "
Our wheels crunched through the deep snow
for a few moments, and then suddenly I saw a
gleam of ruddy light shining from the window
of a dwelling. Then Mr. Jones shouted:
"Whoa Light down, neighbors; you're at
-your own door."
There was a chorus of delighted cries. Merton

half tumbled over me in his eagerness to get out.
A door opened, and out poured a cheerful glow.
Oh the delicious sense of safety and warmth
given by that open door !
I caught Mousie in my arms, floundered knee-
deep through the snow, and placed her in a big
rocking-chair. Mr. Jones followed with Winnie,
and Merton came in with Bobsey on his back.
The little fellow was under such headway in crying
that he could n't stop at once, although his tears
were rapidly giving place to laughter. I rushed
back and carried in my wife, and then said, in a
voice a little unsteady from deep feeling:
Welcome home, one and all! "
Never did the word mean more to a half-frozen
and badly frightened family. Safety, warmth,
and comfort were, of course, uppermost in our
thoughts, but as wraps were taken off and all
gradually thawed out, eager-eyed curiosity be-
gan to explore. Taking Mousie on my lap and
chafing her hands, I answered questions, and en-
joyed to the full the exclamations of pleasure.
Mr. Jones lingered for a few moments, then gave
one of his big guffaws by way of preface, and said :
Well, you do look as if you were at home and
meant to stay. This scene makes me homesick;
so I '11 say good-night, and I'll be over in the
morning There's some lunch on the table, that
my wife fixed up for you. I must go, for I hear
John junior calling' me."
His only response to our profuse thanks was
another laugh, which the wind swept away.
Who is John junior? asked Merton.
Mr. Jones's son, a boy of about your age," I
replied. He was here, waiting for us and keeping
the fire up. When we arrived he came out and
took the horses, and so you did n't see him. He '11
make a good playmate for you. His father says
'he's a fairish boy as boys go,' and that, from
John Jones, means that he 's a good fellow."
Oh, what a happy group we were, as we gath-
ered around the great, open fire, which I piled
high with wood !
Do you wish to look around a little ? I asked
my wife.
No," she replied, leaning back in her rocking-
chair. Let me take this in first. Oh, Robert, I
have such a sense of rest, quiet, comfort, and home-
iness that I simply wish to sit still and enjoy it all.
The howling of the storm only makes this place
seem more like a refuge, and I 'd rather hear it than



the Daggetts tramping overhead and the Ricketts wished to let the picture sink deeply into my heart.
children crying downstairs. Oh, is n't it nice to At last my wife sprang up and said:
be by ourselves in this quaint old room? Turn "I've been sentimental long enough. You're not

petite, was casting sundry

There seemed to be no occasion for haste, and I or Winnie and Bobsey will be asleep on the floor.
I U r~i,.:I. ---ri ..-i
". I
-, r I,

t d ..I. il it. l- -.. -

d 1 1 .i .I.. It.

Ts r se:em r! ,to be r forhaste and- or W e B w b th f

petite was catn sudr

__ __~_



I feel as if I could sit here till morning; but I '11
come back after the children are in bed. Come,
show me my home, or, at least, enough of it to let
me see where we are to sleep."
"We shall have to camp again to-night," I
answered. Mrs. Jones has made up the one bed
left in the house, and you and Mousie shall have
that. We '11 fix Winnie and Bobsey on the lounge;
and the youngsters can sleep in their clothes, just
as soldiers do. Merton and I will doze in these
chairs before the fire. To-morrow night we can
all be very comfortable."
I took the lamp and led the way, my wife,
Mousie, and Merton following, first across a little
hall, from which one stair-way led to the upper
chambers and another to the cellar. Opening a
door opposite the living-room, I showed Winifred
her parlor. It looked cozy and comfortable, even
now, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Jones's kind offices.
A morning-glory stove gave out abundant warmth
and a ruddy light which blended genially with the
red colors of the carpet.
Oh, how pretty I can make this room look! "
exclaimed my wife. But there's no place to
sleep here."
Come to the room over this, warmed by a pipe
from this stove," said I.
"Ah this is capital she cried, looking
around an apartment which Mrs. Jones had made
comfortable. "Was n't I wise when I decided to
come home ? It 's just as warm as toast. Now let
the wind blow.- Why, I don't hear it any more."
No, the gale has spent itself. But see, con-
nected with this room is another, for Mousie and
Winnie. By leaving open the door between, it will
be warm enough for them. So, you see, this end of
the house can be heated with but little trouble and
expense. The open fire in the living-room is a
luxury that we can afford, since there is plenty of
wood on the place. On the other side of the
hall there is a room for Merton. Now, do me a
favor: don't look, or talk, or think any more to-
night. It has been a long, hard day. Indeed,"
looking at my watch, "it is already to-morrow
morning, and you know how much we shall have
to do. Let us go back and get a little supper, and
then take all the rest we can."
Winifred yielded, and at the word "supper,"
Bobsey and Winnie were awake at once. Then
we knelt around our hearth and made it an altar
to God, for I wished the children never to forget
our need of His fatherly help and care.
Now I will take the children upstairs to bed,
and then I must come back, for I cannot leave
this wood fire just yet," my wife remarked.
She soon joined me at the hearth again. Mer-
ton, meanwhile, had stretched himself on the

rag carpet with his overcoat for a pillow, and was
in dreamless sleep. My wife's eyes were full of
languor. She did not sit down, but stood beside
me for a moment. Then, laying her head on my
shoulder, she said softly:
"I can't give you any new theories ro such
things, but I will try to make you all happy here."
"Dear little wife," I laughed, "when has
woman hit upon a higher or better wisdom than
that of making all happy in her own home ? And
you half asleep, too."
Then I '11 bid you good-night at once, before
I say something stupid."
Soon the old house was quiet. The wind had
utterly ceased. I opened the door a moment and
looked on the white, still world without. The
stars glittered frostily through rifts in the clouds.
Schunemunk mountain was a shadow along the
western horizon, and the eastern highlands banked-
up and blended with the clouds.
I stole silently through the house. There, too,
all seemed in accord with nature. The life of a
good old man had quietly ceased in this home;
new, hopeful life was beginning. Evil is every-
where in the world, but it seemed to me that we
had as safe a nook as could be found.
I remember little that followed until I was
startled out of my chair by a loud knocking. The
sunlight was streaming in at the window and John
Jones's voice was at the door.
I think we have all overslept," I said, as I ad-
mitted him.
"Not a bit of it. Every wink you 've had after
such a day as yesterday is like money put in the
bank. But the sleighing is better now than it will be
later on," he said. "The sun '11 be warm by noon,
and the snow '11 soon be slush. Now's your chance
to get your traps up in a hurry. I can have a two-
hoss sled ready in half an hour, and, if you say
so, I can hire a big sleigh of a neighbor, and we 'I1
have everything here by dinner-time. After you're
fixed up to your satisfaction, you wont care if the
bottom does fall out of the roads for a time. Well,
you have had to rough it; Merton might have
come and staid with us."
Oh, I 'm all right," said the boy, rubbing his
eyes open as he rose from the floor, at the same
time learning from stiff joints that a carpet is not
a mattress.
"Nothing would suit me better, Mr. Jones, than
your plan of prompt action," said I. I 'm the
luckiest man in the world in having such a long-
headed, fore-handed neighbor to start with. I know
you '11 make a good bargain for the other team,
and before I sleep to-night I wish to square up for
everything. I mean, at least, to begin business in
this way at Maizeville."



Oh, go slow, go slow!" said Mr. Jones. The
town will mob you if they find you have ready
money in March. John junior will be over in a
few minutes, with a pot of coffee and a jug of
milk, and we '11 be off sharp."
There was a patter of feet overhead, and soon
Bobsey came tearing down, half wild with excite-
ment over the novelty of everything. He started
for the door as if he were going head first into the
snow. I caught him, and said:
Do you see that chair ? Well, we all have a
busy day before, us. You can help a good deal,
and play a little; but you must n't hinder and
pester. You must either obey orders or else be
put under arrest and tied in the chair."
To go into the chair then would have been
torture indeed, and the little fellow sobered down
at once.
The others soon joined us, eager to see every-
thing by the broad light of day, and to enter
upon the task of getting settled. We had scarcely
come together before John junior appeared with
the chief features of our breakfast. The chil-
dren scanned this probable playmate very curi-
ously, and some of us could hardly repress a smile
at his appearance. He was even more sandy than
his father. Indeed, his hair and eye-brows were
nearly white, but out of his red and almost full-moon
face his mother's black eyes twinkled shrewdly.
They now expressed only good-will and bashful-
ness, and every one of us shook hands with him so
cordially that his boy's heart was evidently won.
Merton, to break the ice more fully, offered to
show him his gun, which he had kept within reach
ever since we left the boat. It made him feel more
like a pioneer, no doubt. As he took it from its
stout cloth cover, I saw John junior's eyes sparkle.
Evidently a sympathetic chord was touched. He
said excitedly:
"To-day 's your time to try it. A rabbit can't
stir without leaving his tracks, and the snow is so
deep and soft that he can't get away. There 's
lots of'em right on your own place."
O Papa cried my boy, fairly trembling with
eagerness, can't I go? "
"I need you very much this morning."
But, Papa, others will be out before me and I
may lose my chance!" and he was half ready to cry.
Yes," I said, there is a risk of that. Well,
you shall decide in this case," I added, after a mo-
ment. "It is rarely best to put pleasure before
business or prudence. If you go out into the snow
with those boots, you will spoil them and very
probably take a severe cold. Yet you may go if
you will. If you will help me now, we can be back
by ten o'clock, and I will get you a pair of rubber
boots as we return."

Will there be any chance after ten o'clock ?"
he asked quickly.
"Well," said John junior, in his matter-of-fact
way, "that depends. As your pa says, there's a
The temptation was too strong for the moment.
Oh, dear exclaimed Merton; I may never
have so good a chance again. The snow will melt
soon, and there may not be anymore till next win-
ter. I'11 tie my trousers down around my boots,
and I'll help all the rest of the day after I get back."
"Very well," I said quietly, and he began eat-
ing his breakfast the abundant remains of our
last night's lunch very rapidly, while John junior
started off to get his gun.
I saw that Merton was ill at ease, but I made a
sign to his mother not to interfere. More and
more slowly he finished his breakfast, then took
his gun and went to the room that would be his,
to load and prepare. At last he came down and
went out by another door, evidently not wishing to
encounter me. John junior met him, and the
boys were starting, when John senior drove into
the yard. Then I heard him call out:
John junior, come here for a minute "
The boy returned slowly, Merton following.
"You have n't said anything to me about goin'
off with that gun," said Mr. Jones severely.
"Well, Merton's pa said he might go if he
wanted to, and I had to go along to show him."
"That first shot was n't exactly straight, my
young friend John," said I. I told Merton that
it was n't best to put pleasure before business, but
that he could go if he would. I wished to let him
choose to do right instead of making him do right."
Oho, that's how the land lies, is it ?" said John
senior. Well, John junior, you can have your
choice too. You may go right on with your gun,
but you know the length and weight of that strap
at home. Now, will you help me, or will you go
after rabbits ?"
The boy grinned pleasantly and replied: "If
you had said I could n't go, I would n't; but if
it 's choosing' between shooting' rabbits and a strap-
pin' afterward,- come along, Merton "
Well, go along then," chuckled his father.
"You 've made your bargain square, and I '11 keep
my part of it."
"Oh-pshaw for the rabbits! You sha'n't
have any strapping on my account," cried Merton;
and he carried his gun resolutely to his room and
locked the door on it.
John junior went quietly to the old barn and put
away his gun.
Guess I '11 go with you, Pa," he said, joining
"Ha, ha, ha!"laughed Mr. Jones. "It was




rather a poor bargain you made for yourself.
Come, now, let 's all be off as soon as possible.
Neighbor Hollins down the road will join us as we
Merton," I said, see if there is n't a barrel
of apples in the cellar. If you find one, you can
fill your pockets."
He soon returned with bulging pockets and a
smiling face, feeling that such virtue as he had
shown had soon brought reward. My wife said
that, while we were gone, she and the children
would explore the house and plan how to arrange
everything. We started in good spirits.
Here 's where you thought you were cast away
last night," Mr. Jones remarked, as we passed out
of the lane.
The contrast made by a few short hours was
indeed wonderful. Then, in dense obscurity, a
tempest had howled and shrieked about us. Now,
in the unclouded sunshine, a gemmed and spark-
ling world suggested beauty everywhere.
Merton munched his apples, but his eyes were
busy, and I saw that he was impressed by winter
scenery such as he had never before looked upon.
Soon, however, he and John junior were deep in
the game question, and I noted that the latter
kept a sharp lookout along the roadside. Before
long, while passing a thicket, he shouted, Tracks !
tracks !" and floundered out into the snow, Merton
The boy truly was showing good woodcraft.
Restraining Merton, he cautiously approached
the tracks, which, on account of the lightness and
depth of the snow, were not very distinct.
"He can't be far away," said Junior, excitedly.
Don't go too- fast till I see which way he was
a-p'intin'. We don't want to follow the tracks back,
but forward. See, he came out of that old wall
there, he went to these bushes and nibbled some
twigs, and here he went,-here he went,- here,-
here,-yes, he went into the wall again just here.
Now, Merton, watch this hole while I jump over
the other side of the fence and see if he comes out
again. If he makes a start, grab him."
John Jones and I were now almost as excited as
the bojs, and Mr. Hollins, the neighbor who was
following us, was standing up in his sleigh to see
the sport. It came quickly. As if by some in-
stinct, the rabbit believed Junior to be the most
dangerous, and made a break from the wall almost
at Merton's feet, with such swiftness and power
as to dash by him like a shot. The first force
of its bound ended, it was caught by nature's trap,-
snow too deep and soft to admit of rapid running.
John Jones soon proved that Junior came hon-
estly by his passion for hunting. In a moment he
was floundering through the bushes with his son

and Merton. In such pursuit of game my boy
had the advantage, for he was as agile as a cat;
but a moment or two elapsed before he caught up
with the rabbit and threw himself upon it, then
rose, white as a snow man, shouting triumphantly
and holding the little creature aloft by its hind legs.
Never rate Junior for hunting again," I said,
laughingly, to Mr. Jones. He 's only a chip of
the old block, it seems "
I rather guess he is," my neighbor acknowl-
edged, with a grin. "I own up I used to be
pretty hot on such larkin'. We all keep forgettin'
we were boys once."
As we rode on, Merton was a picture of exulta-
tion, and Junior was on the sharp lookout again.
His father turned on him and said, Now, look-a-
here, enough's as good as a feast. I'll blindfold
you if you don't let the tracks alone. Mrs. Durham
wants her things, so she can begin to live. Get up
there and a crack of the whip ended all further
hopes on the part of the boys. But they felt well
repaid for coming, and Merton assured Junior that
he deserved half the credit, for only he knew how
to manage the hunt.
Before we reached the landing I had invested a
goodly sum in four pairs of rubber boots, for I
knew how hopeless it would be to try to keep
Winnie and Bobsey indoors. As for Mousie, she
would have to be prudent until the ground should
become dry and warm.
There is no need of dwelling long on the bring-
ing home of our effects and the getting to rights.
We were back soon after ten, and found that Win-
nie and Bobsey, having exhausted the resources
of the house, had been permitted to start at the
front door, and, with an old fire-shovel and a piece
of board, had well-nigh completed a path to the
well, piling up the snow as they advanced, so that
their overshoes were a sufficient protection.
After we had carried in the things, I interceded
with Mr. Jones, and then told the boys that they
could take their guns and be absent two or three
hours if they would promise to help faithfully the
rest of the day.
As I had bought at the Maizeville landing such
provisions, tools, etc., as I should need immedi-
ately, I did not worry because the fickle March
sky was clouding up again with the promise of
rain. A heavy down-pour now with snow upon
the ground, would cause almost a flood, but I felt
that we could shut the door and find the old house
a very comfortable ark.
"A smart warm rain would be just the best
thing for you," said Mr. Jones, as he helped me
carry in the furniture and put up the beds.
"It would take the snow off. Nat'rally you want
to get out on the bare ground, for there 's always a



lot of clearin' up to be done in the spring; and old man
Jamison was so unwell the last year that he could n't
keep things up to the mark."
Yes," I replied, I am as eager to get to work out-
doors as the boys were to go after rabbits. I believe I
shall like the work; but that is not the question. I
did not come to the country to amuse myself, like so
many city people. I don't blame them. I wish I could
afford farming for fun. I came to earn a living for my
wife and children, and I am anxious to be about it.
I. '11 not appeal to you for
,.' anything except what
Syou can easily
,L / give me-

l '- -
,'^ l---, ". .--

If .

1e ~oq~nt of-t~e Ribbic

V a~a

only had a city training, and my theories about farming are perhaps calculated to make you smile.
But I 've seen enough of you in these few days to feel that you are inclined to be kind and neigh-
borly, and the best way to show this will be in helping me to good, sound, practical, common-sense


t^csr' -i.

,- .1. .. I I- _1 I I I-


advice. But you must n't put on airs, or be im-
patient with me. Shrewd as you are, I could
show you some things in the city."
Oh! I 'd be a sight queerer there than you
here," said Mr. Jones. I see your point, and if
you 'll ask my advice, I '11 not let you make any
blunders I would n't make myself,-though p'r'aps
that is not saying a great deal."
By this time everything had been brought in and
either put in place or stowed out of the way until
my wife could decide where and how she would
arrange things.
Now," I concluded, as Mr. Jones drove off,
"please carry out our agreement."
He gave me 3 wink and jingled away.
Our agreement was this: first, that he and Mr.
Hollins, the owner of the other team, should be
paid in full before night; and second, that Mrs.
Jones should furnish us our dinner, in which the
chief dish should be a pot-pie from the rabbit
caught by Merton, and that Mr. Jones should
bring everything over at I P. M.
My wife was so absorbed in unpacking her china,
kitchen utensils, and groceries, that she was un-
aware of the flight of time; but at last she sud-
denly exclaimed:
I declare it 's dinner-time !"
Not quite yet," I said; dinner will be ready
at one o'clock."
"It will? Oh, indeed! Since we are in the
country, I suppose we are to pick up what we can,
as the birds do. Perhaps you intend to invite us
all down to the apple barrel."
"Certainly, whenever you wish to go; but we 'll
have a hot dinner at one o'clock, and a game din-
ner into the bargain."
I 've heard the boys' guns occasionally, but I
have n't seen the game, and it's after twelve now."
"Papa has a secret-a surprise for us," cried
Mousie. I can see it in his eyes."
"Now, Robert," said my wife, "I know what
you 've been doing; you have asked Mrs. Jones to
furnish a dinner. You are extravagant, for I could
have picked up something that would have an-
No, I 've been very prudent in saving your time
and strength, and saving these is sometimes the
best economy in the world," I replied. Mousie
is nearer right. The dinner is a secret, and it has
been furnished chiefly by one of the family."
"Well, I 'm too busy to guess riddles to-day,"
my wife replied; "but if my appetite is a guide,
it is nearly time we had your secret."
Mr. and Mrs. Jamison had clung to their old-
fashioned ways, and had done their cooking over
the open fire, using the swinging crane, which is
now employed chiefly in pictures. This, for the

sake of the picture it made, we proposed to keep
as it had been left, although at times it might
answer some more prosaic purpose.
At the eastern end of the house was a single
room, added unknown years before, and designed
to be a bedchamber. The room was quite large,
having windows facing the east and south, and
therefore it would be light and cheerful, as a
kitchen ever should be, especially when the mis-
tress of the house is cook. There Mr. Jones and I
set up the excellent stove that I brought from New
York -one to which my wife was accustomed.
It cheers one up to enter a kitchen like this,"
she said.
It is to be your garden for a time, also," I ex-
plained to Mousie. By this last window I shall
soon have a table with shallow boxes of earth, and
in them you can plant some of your flower-seeds.
I only ask that I may have two of the boxes for
early cabbages, lettuce, tomatoes, etc. You and
your plants can take a sun-bath every morning
until it is warm enough to go out-of-doors; and
you '11 find the plants wont die here as they did in
the dark, gas-poisoned city flat."
"I feel as if I were going to grow faster and
stronger than the plants," cried the happy child.
Junior and Merton now appeared, each carrying
a rabbit. My boy's face, however, was clouded,
and he said a little despondingly:
I can't shoot straight missed every time, and
Junior shot 'em after I had fired and missed."
Pshaw," cried Junior, Merton 's got to learn
to take a quick, steady sight, like every one else;
he gets too excited, that 's all."
That 's just it, my boy," I said. You shall
go down by the creek, Merton, and fire at a mark a
few times every day, and you '11 soon hit it every
time. Junior's head is too level to think that any-
thing can be done well without practice. Now,
Junior," I added, "run over home and help your
father bring us our dinner, and then you stay and
help us eat it."
Father and son soon appeared, well laden. Win-
nie and Bobsey came in ravenous from their path-
making, and all agreed that we had already grown
one vigorous Maizeville crop,- an appetite.
The pot-pie was exulted over, the secret of its
existence explained, and we all congratulated Mer-
ton as the one who had provided our first country
Before the meal was over I said, seriously,
Now, boys, there must be no more hunt,.g until
I find out about the game-laws. They should be
obeyed, especially by sportsmen. I don't think
that we are forbidden to kill rabbits on our own
place when they threaten to be troublesome; and
the hunt this morning was so unexpected that I



did not think of the law, which might be used to
make us trouble. You killed the other rabbits on
this place, Junior ? "
"Yes, sir, both of'em."
Well, hereafter you must look after hawks and
other enemies of poultry. Especially do I hope
you will never fire at our useful song-birds. If
boys throughout the country would band together
to protect game when out of season, they would
soon have fine sport in the autumn."
In the afternoon we let Winnie and Bobsey ex-
pend their energy in making paths and lanes in
every direction through the snow, which was melt-
ing rapidly in the south wind. By three o'clock
the rain began to fall, and when darkness set in
there was a gurgling sound of water on every side.
Our crackling fire made the warmth and comfort
within seem tenfold more cheery.
A hearty supper, prepared in our own kitchen,
made us feel that our home machinery had fairly
started, and we knew that it would run more and
more smoothly. March was keeping up its bad name
for storm and change. The wind was again roar-
ing, but laden now with rain, and in gusty sheets
the heavy drops dashed against the windows. Our
old ark of a house, however, kept us dry and safe;'
although it rocked a little in the blasts. They soon
proved a lullaby for our second night at home.
After breakfast the following morning, with
Merton, Winnie, and Bobsey, I started out to see
if any damage had been done. The sky was still
clouded, but the rain had ceased. Our rubber
boots served us well, for the earth was like an over-
full sponge, while down every little incline and
hollow a stream was murmuring.
The old barn showed the need for many nails
to be driven here and there, and no little repair-
ing. That done, it would answer very well for corn-
stalks and other coarse fodder. The new barn had
been fairly built, and the interior was dry. It still
contained as much hay as would be needed for the
keeping of a horse and cow until the- new crop
should be harvested.
Papa," cried Winnie, "where is the chicken
place? "
"That is one of the questions we must settle
at once I replied.
The new barn had been built on a side hill, and
it had an ample basement, from which a room
extending well into the bank had been partitioned.
The entrance to this basement faced the east, and
on either side of it was a window. To the right of
the entrance were two cow-stalls, and to the left
was an open space half full of mouldy corn-stalks
and other rubbish.
See here, Winnie and Merton," I said, after a
little examination, "I think we could clear out

this space on the left, partition it oft, make a door,
and keep the chickens here. After that window is
washed, a good deal of sunlight can come in. I've
read that in cold weather poultry need warmth and
light, and must be kept dry. We can soon secure
all these conditions here. Having a home for our-
selves, suppose we first set to work to make a home
for the chickens."
This idea delighted Winnie and pleased Merton
almost as much as hunting rabbits.
"Now," I resumed, "we will go to the house
and get what we need for the work."
By eleven o'clock we had the basement cleaned,
and Winnie had washed the wilidows. Then John
Jones's thin figure darkened the door-way, and he
Hello, neighbor, what ye driving at ? "
Look around and see, and then tell us whera to
get a lot of chickens."
"Well, I declare !" said Mr. Jones. How you
've improved things! You're not goin' to scrub the
dirt floor, are you ? This looks like business-just
the place for chickens. I wonder old man Jamison
did n't keep 'em here ; but he did n't care for fowls.
Now I think of it, there is to be a vandoo next week,
and there 's a lot of chickens goin' to be sold at
auction. I '11 bid 'em in for you if they 're a good
lot. If you, a city chap, was to bid, some straw-
bidder would be raisin' the price for you. I know
what they 're worth, and everybody there '11 know
I do, and they '11 try no sharp games with me."
"That will suit me exactly, Mr. Jones," I replied.
Have you looked into the root-cellar?" in-
quired my neighbor.
"Yes; we opened the door and looked in, but
it was as dark as a pocket."
Well, I don't believe in matches round a barn,
but it 's damp as a well in that room. I '11 show
you something "; and he opened the door, struck
a match, and, holding it aloft, revealed a heap of
turnips, another of carrots, five barrels of pota-
toes and three of apples. The children pounced
upon the last with appetites sharpened by their
morning's work.
"You see," resumed Mr. Jones, "these were
here when old man Jamison died. You can have
the lot at a low figure (which he named).
I 'll take them," I said promptly.
"The carrots make it look like a gold-mine,"
cried Merton.
You're wise to take 'em,"continued Mr. Jones.
You '11 have to get a cow and a horse soon, and
perhaps I can pick them for you too, at the van-
doo. You can go along, and if anything strikes
your fancy, I '11 bid on it."
Oh. Papa !" cried the children in chorus, "can
we go with you to the vandoo ? But what is it ? "





I explained that a "vandoo," as Mr. Jones
called it, was a vendue," or auction sale of farm
and household things, and I added: "Yes, I think
you can go. When does it take place, Mr. Jones ? "
"Next Tuesday. That's a good breed of pota-
toes. Jamison always had the best of everything.
They '11 furnish you with seed and supply your table
till new ones come. I should n't wonder, too, if
you could sell a barrel or so of apples at a rise."
"I've found a market for them already," said I.
" Look at these children, and I 'm good for a half a
barrel myself if they don't decay too soon. Where
could we find better or cheaper food? All the
books say that apples are fattening."
That 's true of man and beast, if the books do
say it. They 'll keep in this cool, dark cellar
longer than you 'd think -longer than you'11 let
'em, from the way they 're disappearin'. I guess
I'll try one."
"Certainly," I said; help yourself."
"This is the kind of place for keeping apples
cool," he remarked, as he munched the fruit with a
relish; dark, even temperature. Why, they're as
crisp and juicy as if just off the trees. I came over
to make a suggestion. There's a lot of sugar-maple
trees on your place, down by the brook. Why not
tap 'em and set a couple of pots bilin' over your
open fire? You 'd kill two birds with one-stone.
The fired keep you warm and make a lot of sugar
in the bargain. I reckon, too, the children would
like the fun."
They were already shouting over the idea, but I
said, dubiously:
How about the pails to catch the sap?"
"Well," said Mr. Jones, "I 've thought of that.
We 've a lot of spare milk-pails and pans that
we 're not usin'. Junior understands the business,
and, as we 're not very busy, he can help you and
take his pay in sugar."
The subject of poultry was forgotten, and the
children scampered off to the house to tell of this
new project.
Before Mr. Jones and I left the basement he
said, "You don't want any partition here at pres-
ent, only a few perches for the fowls. There 's a
fairish shed, you remember, in the upper barn-
yard, and when it is not very cold or stormy, the
cow will do well enough there till next winter. The
weather '11 be grow'n' milder 'most every day, and
in rough spells you can put her in here. Chickens
wont do her any harm. Law sakes! When the
main conditions are right, what's the use of havin'
everything just so ? It's more important to save
your time and strength and money. You'll find
enough to do without one extra stroke." Thus
John Jones fulfilled his office of mentor.
I restrained the children until after dinner, which

my wife hastened. By that time Junior was on
hand with a small wagon-load of pails and pans.
"Oh, dear I wanted'you to help me this
afternoon," my wife had said. But seeing the
dismayed look on the children's faces, she had
added, "Well, there's no hurry, I suppose. We
are comfortable, and we shall have stormy days,
when you can't all be out in the open air."
The horse was put in the barn, for he would
have mired in the long spongy lane and the
meadow which we must cross. So we decided to
run the light wagon down by hand.
I tapped the trees last year, as old Mr. Jamison
did n't care about doin' it," said the boy, an' I
biled the pot of sap down in the grove; but that
was slow, cold work. I saved the little wooden
troughs I used last year, and they are in one of the
pails. I brought over a big kettle, too, which
mother let me have, and if we can keep this and
yours a-goin', we '11 soon have some sugar."
Away we went, down the lane, Junior and Mer-
ton in the shafts, playing horses. I pushed in some
places and held back in others, while Winnie
and Bobsey picked their way between puddles and
quagmires. The snow was so nearly gone that it
lay only on northern slopes. We had heard the
deep roar of the Moodna creek all the morning,
and had meant to go and see it right after break-
fast; but providing a chicken home had proved a
greater attraction to the children and a better in-
vestment of time for me. Now from the top of the
last hill-side we saw a great flood rushing by, with
a hoarse, surging noise.
"Winnie, Bobsey, if you go near that water
without me, you march straight home," I cried.
They promised never to go, but I thought Bob-
sey protested a little too much. Away we went
down the hill, skirting what was now a good-sized
brook. I knew the trees, from a previous visit;
and the maple, when once known, can be picked
out anywhere, so genial, mellow, and generous an
aspect has it, even when leafless.
The roar of the creek and the gurgle of the
brook made genuine March music, and the chil-
dren looked and acted as if there were nothing left
to be desired; but when Junior showed them a
tree that appeared to be growing directly out of a
flat rock, they expressed a wonder which no town
museum could have excited.
But scenery, and even rural marvels, could not
keep their attention long. All were intent on sap
and sugar, and Junior was speedily at work. The
moment he broke the brittle, juicy bark, the sap
began to flow.
As fast as he inserted his little wooden troughs
into the trees, we placed pails and pans under them
and began harvesting the first crop from our farm.


This was rather slow work, and to keep Winnie
and Bobsey busy I told them they could gather
sticks and leaves, pile them up at the foot of a
rock on a dry hill-side and we would have a fire.
Meanwhile I picked up the dead branches that
strewed the ground, and with my axe trimmed
them for use in summer when only a quick blaze
would be needed to boil the supper kettle. To
city-bred eyes wood seemed a rare luxury, and
although there was enough lying about to supply
us for a year, I could not get over the feeling that
it must all be cared for.
There are few greater delights to children than
that of building a fire in the woods, and on that
cloudy, chilly day our blaze against the rock
brought solid comfort to us all, even though the
smoke did get into our eyes. Winnie and Bobsey,
little bundles of energy that they were, seemed
unwearied in feeding the flames, while Merton
sought to hide his excitement by imitating Junior's
stolid, business-like ways. Finding him alone
once, I said:
"Merton, don't you remember saying to me
once-' I 'd like to know what there is for a boy
to do in this street?' Don't you think there 's
something for a boy to do on this farm ? "
Oh, Papa! he cried, I 'm just trying to hold
in So much has happened, and I've had such a
good time, that it seems as if I had been here a
month; then, again, the hours pass like minutes.
See, the sun is low already."
"It 's all new and exciting now, Merton, but
there will be long hours,- yes, days and weeks,-
when you '11 have to act like a man and do the
work because it must be done."
So there would if we staid in town," he said.
But soon I decided that it was time for the
younger children to return, for I meant to give
my wife all the help I could before bed-time.
We first hauled the wagon back, and then Merton
said he would bring what sap had been caught.
Junior had to go home for a time to do his even-
ing chores, but he promised to return before
dark and help carry in the sap.
There '11 be frost to-night, and we '11 get the
biggest run in the morning," was his encouraging
remark, as he harnessed up and made ready to
Mrs. Jones had been over to see my wife, and
they bade fair to become good friends. I set to
work putting things in better shape and bringing
in a good pile of wood. Merton soon appeared
with a brimming pail. A kettle was hung on the
crane, but before the sap was placed over the fire
all must taste it, just as it had been distilled by

nature. And all were quickly satisfied. Even
Mousie said it was "too watery," and Winnie
made a face as she exclaimed, "I declare, Mer-
ton, I believe you filled the pail from the brook!"
Patience, youngsters; sap, as well as some
other things, is better for boiling down."
By the time it was dark we had both the kettles
boiling and bubbling over the fire, and fine music
they made. With Junior for guest we greatly en-
joyed our supper, which consisted principally of
baked apples and milk.
When the meal was over, Junior went out on
the porch, and returned with a mysterious sack.
"Butternuts he ejaculated.
Junior was winning his way truly, and in the
children's eyes was already a good genius, as his
father was in mine.
"0 Papa," was the general cry, "can't we
crack them on the hearth? "
"But you 'll singe your very eyebrows off," I
Mine are so white, 't would n't matter," said
Junior; nobody 'd miss 'em. Give me a ham-
mer, and I'll keep you going. "
And so he did, on one of the stones of the hearth,
with such a lively rat-tat-snap that it seemed a
regular rhythm.
"I've cracked well-nigh on to fifty bushel in my
life, I guess," he explained, in answer to our wonder
at his skill.
And so the evening passed around the genial
old fire-place, and before the children retired they
smacked their lips over syrup sweet enough to
satisfy them.
The following morning- Saturday- I vibrated
between the sugar-camp and the barn and other
out-buildings, giving, however, most of the time
to the help of my wife in getting the house more
to her mind and in planning some work that
would require a brief visit from a carpenter, for I
felt that I must soon bestow nearly all my atten-
tion on the outdoor work. I managed to keep
Bobsey under my eye for the most of the time, but
in the afternoon I left him for a few moments only
at the sugar-bush while I carried up some sap. A
man called to see me on business and I was detained.
Knowing the little fellow's proneness to mischief
and forgetfulness of all commands, I at last hast-
ened back, with a half-guilty, half-worried feeling.
I reached the brow of the hill just in time to
see him throw a stick into the creek, lose his bal-
ance, and fall in.
With a terrified call, his own cry forming a faint
echo, I sprang forward frantically, but the swift
current caught and bore him away.

(To be continued.)







MANY and many miles and many days' journey
toward the rising sun, over seas and mountains and
deserts,- farther to the east than Rome, or Con-
stantinople, or even Jerusalem and old Damascus,
- stand the ruins of a once mighty city, scattered
over a mountain-walled oasis of the great Syrian
desert, thirteen hundred feet above the sea, and
just across the northern border of Arabia. Look
for it in your geographies. It is known as Pal-

[Afterward known as "Zenobia
Augusta, Queen of the East."]
A. D. 250.


myra. To-day the jackal prowls through its de-
serted streets and the lizard suns himself on its
fallen columns, while thirty or forty miserable Ara-
bian huts huddle together in a small corner of
what was once the great court-yard of the mag-
nificent Temple of the Sun.
And yet, sixteen centuries ago, Palmyra, or
Tadmor as it was originally called, was one of the
most beautiful cities in the world. Nature and

Copyright, 1884, by E. S. Brooks. All rights reserved.



VOL. XII.-28.


art combined to make it glorious. Like a glitter-
ing mirage out of the sand-swept desert arose its
palaces and temples and grandly sculptured arch-
ways; aqueducts and monuments and gleaming por-
ticoes; countless groves of palm-trees and gardens
full of verdure; wells and fountains; market and
circus; broad streets stretching away to the city
gates and lined on either side with magnificent
colonnades of rose-colored marble. Such was Pal-
myra in the year of our Lord 2So, when, in the
soft Syrian month of Nisan, or April, in an open
portico in the great colonnade and screened from
the sun by gayly colored awnings, two young peo-
ple-a boy of sixteen and a girl of twelve-looked
down upon the beautiful Street of the Thousand
Columns, as lined with bazaars and.thronged with
merchants it stretched from the wonderful Temple
of the Sun to the triple Gate-way of the Sepulchre,
nearly a mile away.
Both were handsome and healthy- true children
of old Tadmor, that glittering, fairy-like city which,
Arabian legends say, was built by the genii for the
great King Solomon ages and ages ago. Mid-
way between the Mediterranean and the Euphrates
it was the meeting-place for the caravans from the
east and the wagon trains from the west, and it had
thus become a city of merchant princes, a wealthy
commercial republic, like Florence and Venice in
the middle ages-the common toll-gate for both
the East and West.
But, though a tributary colony of Rome, it
was -so remote a dependency of that mighty mis-
tress of the world that the yoke of vassalage was but
carelessly worn and lightly felt. The great mer-
chants and chiefs of caravans who composed its
senate and directed its affairs, and whose glittering
statues lined the sculptured cornice of its marble
colonnades, had more power and influence than the
far-off Emperor at Rome, and but small heed was
paid to the slender garrison that acted as guard of
honor to the strategic or special officers who held the
colony for Rome and received its yearly tribute.
And yet so strong a force was Rome in the world
that even this free-tempered desert city had gradu-
ally become Romanized in manners as in name, so
that Tadmor had become first Adrianapolis and
then Palmyra. And this influence had touched
even those children in the portico. For their com-
mon ancestor-a wealthy merchant of a century
before -had secured honor and rank from the Em-
peror Septimus Severus-the man who walled
in" England, and of whom it was said that "he
never performed an act of humanity or forgave a
fault." Becoming, by the Emperor's grace, a
Roman citizen, this merchant of Palmyra, accord-
ing to a custom of the time, took the name of his
royal patron as that of his own "fahdh," or

family, and the father of young Odhainat in the
portico, as was Odhainat himself, was known as
Septimus Odsenathus, while the young girl found
her Arabic name of Bath Zabbai, Latinized into
that of Septima Zenobia.
But as, thinking nothing of all this, they looked
lazily on the throng below, a sudden exclamation
from the lad caused his companion to raise her
flashing black eyes inquiringly to his face.
"What troubleth thee, my Odhainat?" she
There, there; look there, Bath Zabbai! re-
plied the boy excitedly; "coming through the
Damascus arch, and we thought him to be in
The girl's glance followed his guiding finger, but
even as she looked a clear trumpet peal rose above
the din of the city, while from beneath a sculptured
archway that spanned a colonnaded cross-street the
bright April sun gleamed down upon the standard
of Rome with its eagle crest and its S. P. Q.
R. design beneath. There is a second trumpet
peal, and swinging into the great Street of the
Thousand Columns, at the head of his light-armed
legionaries, rides the centurion Rufinus, lately ad-
vanced to the rank of tribune of one of the chief
Roman cohorts in Syria. His coming, as Od-
hainat and even the young Bath Zabbai knew,
meant a stricter supervision of the city, a re-en-
forcement of its garrison, and the assertion of the
mastership of Rome over this far eastern prov-
ince on the Persian frontier.
But why should the coming of the Roman so
trouble you, my Odhainat?" she asked. "We
are neither Jew nor Christian that we should fear
his wrath, but free Palmyreans who bend the knee
neither to Roman nor Persian masters."
Who will bend the knee no longer, be it never
so little, my cousin," exclaimed the lad hotly, as
this very day would have shown had not this crafty
Rufinus may great Solomon's genii dash him in
the sea !- come with his cohort to mar our meas-
ures! Yet see-who cometh now?" he cried;
and at once the attention of the young people was
turned in the opposite direction as they saw,
streaming out of the great fortress-like court-yard
of the Temple of the Sun, another hurrying throng.
Then young Odhainat gave a cry of joy.
See, Bath Zabbai; they come, they come "
he cried. It is my father, Odhainat the esarkos,*
with all the leaders and bowmen and spearmen
of our fahdh armed and in readiness. .This day
will we fling off the Roman yoke and become the
true and unconquered lords of Palmyra. And I,
too, must join them," he added.
But the young girl detained him. "Wait,
cousin," she said; "watch and wait. Our fahdh

*The "head-man," or chief of the "fahdh" or family.




will scarce attempt so brave a deed to-day, with
these new Roman soldiers in our gates. That
were scarcely wise."
But the boy broke out again. So; they have
seen each other," he said; "both sides are press-
ing on "
True; and they will meet under this very por-
tico," said Bath Zabbai, and moved both by inter-
est and desire this dark-eyed Syrian girl, to whom
fear was never known, standing by her cousin's
side, looked down upon the tossing sea of spears
and lances and glittering shields and helmets that
swayed and surged in the street below.
"So, Odaenathus said Rufinus, the tribune,
reining in his horse and speaking in harsh and
commanding tones, "What meaneth this array of
armed followers ?"
"Are the movements of Septimus Odanathus,
the head-man, of such importance to the noble
tribune that he must needs question a free mer-
chant of Palmyra as to the number and manner
of his servants? asked Odaenathus haughtily.
Dog of a Palmyrean; slave of a camel-driver!"
said the Roman angrily, "trifle not with me.
Were you ten times the free merchant you claim
you should not thus reply. Free, forsooth None
are free but Romans."
"Have a care, O Rufinus," said the Palmyrean
boldly, "choose wiser words if you would have
peaceful ways. Palmyra brooks no such.slander
of her foremost men."
And Rome brooks no such men as you, traitor,"
said Rufinus. Ay, traitor, I say he repeated,
as Odanathus started at the word. "Think not to
hide your plots to overthrow the Roman power in
your city and hand the rule to the base Sapor of
Persia. Everything is known to our great father
the Emperor, and thus doth he reckon with
traitors. Macrinus, strike! and at his word the
short Gallic sword in the ready hand of the big
German foot-soldier went straight to its mark and
Odamnathus, the head-man of Palmyra, lay dead
in the Street of the Thousand Columns.
So sudden and so unexpected was the blow that
the Palmyreans stood as if stunned, unable to com-
prehend'what had happened. But the Roman
was swift to act.
Sound, trumpets Down, pikes! he cried,
and as the trumpet-peal rose loud and clear, fresh
legionaries came hurrying through the Damascus
arch, and the pilum* and sfatla of Rome bore
back the bowmen and lancers of Palmyra.
But, before the lowered pikes could fully dis-
perse the crowd, the throng parted and through

the swaying mob there burst a lithe and flying fig-
ure-a brown-skinned maid of twelve with stream-
ing hair, loose robe, and angry, flashing eyes.
Right under the lowered pikes she darted and,
all flushed and panting, defiantly faced the aston-
ished Rufinus. Close behind her came an equally
excited lad who, when he saw the stricken body
of his father on the marble street, flung himself
weeping upon it. But Bath Zabbai's eyes flashed
still more angrily:
"Assassin, murderer! she cried; "you have
slain my kinsman and Odhainat's father. How
dare you; how dare you she repeated vehe-
mently, and then, flushing with deeper scorn, she
added, Roman, I hate you! Would that I were a
man. Then should all Palmyra know how "
"Scourge these children home," broke in the
stern Rufinus, or fetch them by the ears to their
nurses and their toys. Let the boys and girls of Pal-
myra beware how they mingle in the matters of
their elders, or in the plots of their fathers. Men
of Palmyra, you who to-day have dared to think of
rebellion, look on your leader here and know how
Rome deals with traitors. But, because the mer-
chant Odmnathus bore a Roman name, and was
of Roman rank--ho, soldiers bear him to his
house, and let Palmyra pay such honor as befits
his name and station."
The. struggling children were half led, half car-
ried into the sculptured atrium f of the palace of
Odaenathus which, embowered in palms and vines
and wonderful Eastern plants, stood back from the
marble colonnade on the Street of the Thousand
Columns. And when in that same atrium the
body of the dead merchant lay embalmed and
draped for its "long home,"t there, kneeling by
the stricken form of the murdered father and kins-
man, and with uplifted hand, after the vindictive
manner of these fierce old days of blood, Odana-
thus and Zenobia swore eternal hatred to Rome.
But how could a fatherless boy and girl, away
off on the edge of an Arabian desert, hope to resist
successfully the mighty power of Imperial Rome ?
The story of their lives will tell.
If there are some people who are patriots, there
are others who are poltroons, and such a one was
Hairan, the elder brother of young Odhainat,
when, succeeding to his dead father's wealth and
power, he thought less of Roman tyranny than of
Roman gold.
"Revenge ourselves on their purses, my brother,
and not on their pikes," he said. 'T is easier and
more profitable to sap the Roman's gold than to
shed the Roman's blood."

The pilum was the Roman pike, and the spatlka the long single-edged Roman sword.
t The large central "living-room" of a Roman palace.
SThe Palmyreans built great tower-tombs, beautiful in architecture and adornment, the ruins of which still stand on the bill slopes over-
looking the old city. These they called their "long homes," and you vrill find the word used in the same sense in Ecclesiastes xii., 5.



But this submission to Rome only angered her mingled Arabic and Egyptian blood,-for she
Odhainat, and to such a conflict of opinion did it could trace her ancestry back to the free chiefs of
lead that at last Hairan drove his younger brother the Arabian desert, and to the dauntless Cleopatra
from the home of his fathers, and the lad, an of Egypt,- she loved the excitement of the chase,
Esau among the Jacobs of Tadmor," so the record and in the plains and mountains beyond the city
tells us, spent his youth amid the roving Bedaween she learned to ride and hunt with all the skill and
of the Arabian deserts and the mountaineers of the daring of a young Diana.
Armenian hills, waiting his time. And so it came to pass that when the Em-
But, though a homeless exile, the dark-eyed peror Valerian sent an embassy from Rome to


Bath Zabbai did not forget him. In the palace of
another kinsman, Septimus Worod, the "lord of
the markets," she gave herself up to careful study,
and hoped for the day of Palmyra's freedom. As
rich in powers of mind as in the graces of form
and face, she soon became a wonderful scholar for
those distant days -mistress of four languages:
Coptic, Syriac, Latin, and Greek, while the fiery
temper of the girl grew into the nobler ambitions
of the maiden. But above all things, as became

Ctesiphon, bearing a message to the Great King,
as Sapor, the Persian monarch, was called, the
embassy halted in Palmyra, and Septimus Hairan,
now the head-man of the city, ordered, "in the
name of the senate and people of Palmyra," a
grand venatio, or wild beast hunt, in the circus
near the Street of the Thousand Columns, in
honor of his Roman guests. And he dispatched
his kinsman Septimus Zabbai, the soldier, to the
Armenian hills to superintend the capture and




delivery of the wild game needed for the htnt.
With a great following of slaves and huntsmen,
Zabbai the soldier departed, and with him went his
niece, Bath Zabbai, or Zenobia, now a fearless young
huntress of fifteen. Space will not permit to tell
of the wonders and excitement of that wild beast
hunt-a hunt in which none must be killed but
all must be captured without mar or wound. Such
a trapping of wolves and bears and buffaloes was
there, such a setting of nets and pitfalls for the
mountain lion and the Syrian leopard, while the
Arab hunters beat, and drove, and shouted, or lay
in wait with net and blunted lance, that it was rare
sport to the fearless Zenobia, who rode her fleet
Arabian horse at the very head of the chase, and,
with quick eye and practiced hand, helped largely
to swell the trophies of the hunt. What girl of
to-day, whom even the pretty little jumping-mouse
of Syria would scare out of her wits, could be
tempted to witness such a scene? And yet this
young Palmyrean girl loved nothing better than
the chase, and the records tell us that she was a
" passionate hunter and that she pursued with
ardor the wild beasts of the desert" and thought
nothing of fatigue or peril.
So, through dense Armenian forests and along
rugged mountain paths, down rock-strewn hill-
slopes and in green, low-lying valleys, the chase,
swept on: and one day, in one of the pleasant
glades which, half-sun and half-shadow, stretch
away to the Lebanon hills, young Bath Zabbai
suddenly reined in her horse in full view of one of the
typical hunting scenes of those old days. A young
Arabian hunter had enticed a big mountain lion
into one of the strong-meshed nets of stout palm
fibers, then used for such purposes. His trained
leopard or cheetah had drawn the beast from his
lair, and by cunning devices had led him on until
the unfortunate lion was half-entrapped. Just
then, with a sudden swoop, a great golden eagle
dashed down upon the preoccupied cheetah, and
buried his talons in the leopard's head. But the
weight of his victim was more than he had
bargained for; the cheetah with a quick upward
dash dislodged one of the great bird's talons,
and, turning as quickly, caught the disengaged leg
in his sharp teeth. At that instant the lion,
springing at the struggling pair, started the fasten-
ings of the net which, falling upon the group, held
all three prisoners. The eagle and lion thus en-
snared sought to release themselves, but only en-
snared themselves the more, while the cunning chee-
tah, versed in the knowledge of the hunter's net,
crept out from beneath the meshes as his master
raised them slightly, and with bleeding head
crawled to him for praise and relief.
Then the girl, flushed with delight at this double

capture, galloped to the spot, and in that instant
she recognized in the successful hunter her cousin
the exile.
Well snared, my Odhainat," she said, as, the
first exclamation of surprise over, she stood be-
side the brown-faced and sturdy young hunter.
" The Palmyrean leopard hath bravely trapped
both the Roman eagle and the Persian lion. See,
is it not an omen from the gods ? Face valor with
valor and craft with craft, 0 Odhainat! Have you
forgotten the vow in your father's palace full three
years ago ? "
Forgotten it? Not he. And thenhe told Bath
Zabbai how in all his wanderings he had kept
their vow in mind, and with that, too, her other
words of counsel, "Watch and Wait." He told
her that, far and wide, he was known to all the
Arabs of the desert and the Armenians of the hills,
and how, from sheikh to camel-boy, the tribes were
ready to join with Palmyra against both Rome
and Persia.
"Your time will indeed come, my Odhainat,"
said the fearless girl, with proud looks and ringing
voice. "See, even thus our omen gives the
proof," and she pointed to the net, beneath whose
meshes both eagle and lion, fluttering and pant-
ing, lay wearied with their struggles while the
cheetah kept watch above them. "Now make your
peace with Hairan, your brother; return to Pal-
myra once again and still let us watch and wait."

THREE more years passed. Valerian, Emperor
of Rome, leading his legions to a war with Sapor,
whom men called the Great King, had fallen a
victim to the treachery and traps of the Persian
monarch, and was held a miserable prisoner in the
Persian capital, where, richly robed in the purple
of the Roman emperors and loaded with chains,
he was used by the savage Persian tyrant as a
living horse-block for the sport of an equally savage
court. In Palmyra, Hairan was dead, and young
Odhainat, his brother, was now Septimus Odan-
athus-" head-man" of the city, and to all ap-
pearances the firm friend of Rome.
There were great rejoicings in Palmyra when
the wise Zenobia- still scarce more than a girl -
and the fearless young head-man of the desert
republic were married in the marble city of the
palm-trees, and her shrewd counsels brought still
greater triumphs to Odanathus and to Palmyra.
In the great market-place or forum, Odaenathus
and Zenobia awaited the return of their messengers
to Sapor. For the "Great King," having killed
and stuffed the captive Roman Emperor, now
turned his arms against the Roman power in the
east and, destroying both Antioch and Emesa,
looked with an evil eye toward Palmyra. Zenobia,


remembering the omen of the eagle and the lion,
repeated her counsel of facing craft with craft,
and letters and gifts had been sent to Sapor, ask-
ing for peace and friendship. There is a hurried
entrance through the eastern gate of the city, and
the messengers from the Palmyrean senate rush
into the market-place.
"Your presents to the Great King have been
thrown into the river, O Odaenathus," they re-
ported, "and thus sayeth Sapor of Persia: 'Who
is this Odsenathus, that he should thus presume to
write to his lord ? If he would obtain mitigation of
the punishment that awaits him, let him fall pros-
trate before the foot of our throne, with his hands
bound behind his back. Unless he doeth this, he,
his family, and his country shall surely perish !' "
Swift to wrath and swifter still to act, Zenobia
sprang to her feet. Face force with force,
Odasnathus. Be strong and sure, and Palmyra
shall yet humble the Persian "
Her advice was taken. Quickly collecting the
troops of Palmyra and the Arabs and Armenians
who were his allies, the fearless head-man" fell
upon the army of the haughty Persian king, de-
feated and despoiled it, and drove it back to Persia.
As Gibbon, the historian, says: The majesty of
Rome, oppressed by a Persian, was protected by
an Arab of Palmyra."
For this he was covered with favors by Rome;
made supreme commander in the East, and, with
Zenobia as his adviser and helper, each year made
Palmyra stronger and more powerful.
Here, rightly, the story of the girl Zenobia ends.
A woman now, her life fills one of the most brill-
iant pages of history. While her husband con-
quered for Rome in the north, she, in his absence,
governed so wisely in the south as to insure the
praise of all. And when the time was ripe, and
Rome, ruled by weak emperors and harassed by
wild barbarians, was in dire stress, the childish
vow of the boy and girl made years before found
fulfillment. Palmyra was suddenly declared free
from the dominion of Rome, and Odenathus was
acknowledged by senate and people as Emperor
and King of kings."
But the hand of an assassin struck down the son
as it had stricken the father. Zenobia, ascend-
--, -.-, 4

ing the throne of Palmyra, declared herself Zen-
obia Augusta, the Empress of the East," and,
after the manner of her time, extended her empire
in every direction until, as the record says: "A
small territory in the desert, under the government
of a woman, extended its conquests over many rich
countries and several states. Zenobia, lately con-
fined to the barren plains about Palmyra, now held
sway from Egypt, in the south, to the Bosphorus
and the Black Sea, in the north."
But a new emperor ruled in Rome: Aurelian, sol-
dier and statesman. "Rome," he said, "shall never
lose a province." And then the struggle for domin-
ion in the East began. The strength and power
of Rome, directed by the Emperor himself, at last
triumphed. Palmyra fell, and Zenobia, after a
most heroic defense of her kingdom, was led a
prisoner to Rome. Clad in magnificent robes,
loaded with jewels and with heavy chains of gold,
she walked, regal and undaunted still, in the great
triumphal procession of her conqueror, and, dis-
daining to kill herself as did Cleopatra and Dido,
she gave herself up to the nobler work of the edu-
cation and culture of her children, and led for many
years, in her villa at Tibur, the life of a noble
Roman matron.

*, SUCH, in brief, is the story of Zenobia. You
must read for yourselves the record of her later
years, as it stands in history, if you would know
more of her grandeur in her days of power, and her
moral grandeur in her days of defeat.
And with Zenobia fell Palmyra. Centuries of
ruin and neglect have passed over the once fairy-
like city of the Syrian oasis. Her temples and
colonnades, her monuments and archways and
wonderful buildings are prostrate and decayed, and
the site even of the glorious city has been known
to the modern world only within the last century.
But while time lasts and the record of heroic
deeds survives, neither fallen column nor ruined
arch nor all the destruction and neglect of modern
barbarism can blot out the story of the life and
worth of Bath Zabbai, the brave girl of the Syrian
desert, whom all the world honors as the noblest
woman of antiquity-Zenobia of Palmyra, the
dauntless Queen of the East."





FIVE little maids with hearts so light;
Five little bowls with milk so white;
Five little girls with an appetite;
Five little bowls all empty, quite.



WHAT can an East-side fellow do with his spare
time- that is, one who lives in the neighborhood
of Tompkins Square in New York city ? There is
not a nut-tree there. Not an apple orchard nor a
brook nor a good hill for coasting, nor even a barn
where a fellow can play on rainy days. There does
not seem to be any fun on the East side. There is
the big square with its doleful signs, every one say-
ing, as gruffly as you please, DO NOT PLUCK A
There are the hard, dull paths; they would be
pleasant enough if they led anywhere in particular.
There are trees; but there is that melancholy police-
man. You can't climb one of the trees if you wish
to ever so much. It would n't do any good if you
did. They are only elms and maples, and not a
chestnut or hickory among them all. If you do sit
on the benches in the square there is nothing to be
seen but the dreary houses. There is Central Park
far away up town. How is a little fellow to tramp
three miles to get to the entrance ? How is a fellow
to raise ten cents to ride up and back? There 's
Rad Statfelder. He 's a rather small boy; he's
never been to the Central Park at all; he says he

does n't believe there is any Park or anything else
except the streets. What can a fellow do for fun
in the streets? Nothing at all. Did the folks who
invented cities forget all about boys ?
Well, this is precisely what a certain excellent
lady who lived, and still lives, in that very neigh-
borhood asked herself. That is her house, the big
brick one there looking out on Tomkpins Square.
There is a school in the building, a kind of little
housekeepers' school,* where girls learn the beau-
tiful art of housekeeping and how to be ladies,
even if you do make cakes and wait on the door,
and shine silver, and all that. Somehow it seemed
to the boys in the square as if the girls were hav-
ing all the good times. There were no chances for
the little fellows in the streets; and when the wind
blew cold and it rained and mother was busy at
home, what could a boy do ? There was nothing
but the street for him, and that horrid policeman
always saying, ",Come, move on; move on now "
A fellow would just like to know where he was to
move to, any way.
One night a crowd of the boys gathered near
the school. Evidently they seemed to think some-

"See articles entitled "Little Housemaids" and Fraulein Smidt goes to School," in ST. NICHOLAS for April, 1879, and September, 1884.



thing was wrong. They made a great noise, and
some of them even threw stones and broke the
windows. They didn't r.-il.y mr:n ;iny h.-lr',.
but were dissatisfied with they knew not what.

/Somehow the world was all upside
down, and there was n't any fun
-or anything that was pleasant
i and comfortable for street boys.
SWell, that crowd of boys began
Sto look like a regular riot, and
yet the big black building stood
as grim and dark as ever. Surely
the lady who lived there would
get frightened soon and telegraph
for the police. All of a sudden,
and just in the midst of the row,
-. --- the door opened and there stood
the lady herself. Yes; and then
she came right out and spoke to the mob of
boys. And what do you suppose she said ?
She asked them to come in, and prom-
ised them coffee and cakes. Coffee and cakes 1
Oh, no! No, you don't! that's an old trick.
You can't play that on wide-awake East-side boys.
You've a dozen big policemen in there behind
the door. Or if the policemen are all asleep 'round
the corner, you 've some dull chap or other in
there who '11 talk us to death before the coffee and
cakes show up." All this is what the boys thought
and what a few of them said.
"No, no police No lecture !" replied the lady.
What! Only coffee and fun! Only a warm
#bm out of the cold and the street! Coffee and
cak-:., and no lectures about bad boys!

. -- L. I





It was all true. The mob marched in, and
sure enough there were the cakes.
The coffee, too, was delicious; and, after the fine
feast, every fellow could go home if he wished.
That was so strange that of course they wanted
to stay. It was warm and light, and so nice
and pleasant! If only a fellow had a game or
two, or a book, or a picture-paper, he would
stay and spend the evening and thank the lady
It was the most wonderful thing that ever hap-

After a while, other folks became interested in
the good work and wished to assist in it. Cer-
tain young people who had happier homes than
the East-side boys came in to help. They
brought books and cards and picture-papers, and
ST. NICHOLAS. Tley brought games, too, of
all kinds; enough domino boxes to go around,
checkers for every boy for the asking, and noth-
ing to pay for anything. Some gentlemen who
found out what was going on sent a full sup-
ply of comfortable chairs and tables. And soon

C.:.m,-..-I_,-;,": rnd Nhe? I_. :. N
1 d. .-, j n.r t il !-,, C o N. f

.t it r i -,t hoe laLi.- :I A1,r,,. ,.
-: i-i. :- i N i a b ,:, thcr- .. i.:. -, o .. ,,1 K
,: ,l t l e h e r g F: 1'7t .1 c I i I'll
was not the coffee, though the lady's way of
making that was much superior to the home way. a superintendent, was put in charge, but the
It was something else. They could n't tell just boys could talk and laugh just as much as they
what it was. Perhaps it was the lights and the pleased.
warmth, the pleasant room, the pictures, and a So it happened that they called it the Boys'
happy escape from the street. There was a police- Club. And that is the name it.goes by now. It
man inside now, buthe satvery quiet and never said is not a school; it is not a lecture-room nor any
a word. He was evidently one of the good police- kind of a meeting. It is only a club for the East-
men who have n't forgotten when they were boys. side boys, where every fellow can read, or play

games, or talk, or tell stories, or do anything that ticket to the librarian. He takes it and punches
is regular out and out fun, and not mischief, a hole in it, and keeps it while you have your
The superintendent has one or two boys to help game. Here are a table and five chairs.
him,- one to look after the hats and caps, another "Hello, Rad Statfelder Are you a club boy,
to keep an eye on the wash-room, and another to too! Oh! there's Mike Cassady and Jack Stark-
take charge of the drawing materials used by the weather and Isaac Cohen. It's 'Go Bang,' eh?
boys who are busied with the study of drawing. Will you join the game? Well, well; quite an in-
These officers, if you have a mind to call them so, ternational East-side party at the club this evening.
take turns, so that every young member of the On the walls of the room are posted the cata-
Boys' Club has a chance to make himself useful, logues of the
and may be promoted to the highest position if he -books in the I lillll ,
shows himself fit for that honor. library. Half ''. i i
Every night at half-past seven, excepting on a dozen little \ .,L- i, _Jl'I '

:Sundays, the doors are opened and the boys file
in, down the stairs to the big basement where the
club holds its jolly meetings. Show your ticket
at the door, give up your hat to the gentlemanly
usher, aged nine, and take a check for it.. Will
you read the picture-papers, sir, or play checkers?
Will you read a story-book, or indulge in "Go
Bang"? A game, eh? all right; show your


fellows are reading the enticing lists, and off
they go to the librarian, and present their
cards for their books. Her 's a good, quiet
place in a corner, where a fellow can read in
peace. There is a great clatter of voices, with
every one talking as fast as he can; but your
city boy can read anywhere. And then the
book is so particularly interesting that all the
talking in the world would n't make any
"Excuse me, sir It seems to me your small
hands are rather grimy?"
"Yes, sir. I sells papers. It does black
your hands up turribl'."
"All right, sir. If you '11 go to that door
over there, you will find a young man, aged ten,
who will give you soap, water, and a towel."
Off he goes, and soon Mr. Newsboy returns
looking quite the gentleman, with clean hands and
a merry heart.
And so the superintendent looks after every-
thing, and sees that all the fellows have a good
time. Every boy can talk and laugh as freely as
in his own home. Make all the noise you like,
within reasonable bounds. It is good for the
lungs. Who ever heard of a boy who could fold
his arms and be truly good all the. time. In the




Boys' Club every fell:.. : tr I :~: i a: l .:
pleases, provided h-: .J.:..:- r,,:t irt..-rl.; .: aI.
any other boy's fur. : iac thi.:, ph', -" r:.-"
and follow my leader" Well, no. Those
are out-of-door games, and not fit for a young
gentleman's club. Only house fun is in or-
der; and, if any boy feels that he must race
about the room, the fatherly policeman suddenly
wakes up and Mr. Race-horse is invited into
the street, where he can run to his heart's con-
tent. He can not come again to the club till
he learns how young gentlemen behave in the


Of course there are rules of some kind. To
enter the club, the boy must apply for a ticket,
and this ticket is only good for a month. If, during
the month, a boy behaves badly in the club-room,
he will lose his ticket, and, perhaps, not get another

for a long time. All the boys who show that they
wish to do the right thing, and treat the club and
each other properly, have their tickets renewed
every month. Yqu. see from this that, really, the
club is practically free to any little East-side fellow
who wishes to escape from the dismal streets, and
is willing to behave himself for the sake of the
good time the club affords him.
Of course it costs something to carry on the
club. Certain good people of New York city help
to pay the rent, the attendants, and to buy the books
and papers, and to provide the gas and coal. A
visiting committee of young men who are inter-
ested in the enterprise manages the business affairs.
The boys pay nothing- and yet perhaps they do.
They pay in happy faces, improved manners, and
better lives when they grow up. Besides the peo-
ple who support the club, there are others who go
there once in a while and give the club a first-
clAs entertainment., And if you could witness the
breathless interest with which they follow the won-
derful sleight of hand tricks of the gentleman who
conjures a flock of pigeons out of the hat in which
he has just cooked an omelette, and could hear
the hearty applause with which they greet every
new trick and every funny speech, you would say
that the members of the Boys' Club are truly
an appreciative set of fellows, and that the accom-
modating friends who provide the entertainment
are themselves well repaid for their trouble and
interest. On such nights every member of the
club is on hand, you may be sure, and the hall is
packed as full as it will hold.



Then on other nights there are lessons given in
drawing and modeling to those whose tastes run
that way. There is a big room opening out of the
club-room, and in there are a number of tables
around which the young artists gather with paper
and pencil and have a first-rate time studying how
to use the pencil, while a lady from the Decorative
Art Society helps them over the hard places, and a
friendly sculptor guides them in their modeling. In
fact, there is no end to the delights of this truly
jolly club. Our pictures will tell all that has not
here been set down.

Well, now, young reader of ST. NICHOLAS, what
should you do ? Have you any spare games and
old but really good books? How would you like to
send them to the Boys' Club for the use of the
small fellows of the East side? Or perhaps you
live in some other great city where hundreds of poor
little men run about in the dreary streets because
they have no club. Could n't you manage to get
up a club in your city ? How can you do it ? Why,
you must invent a plan just as do all good American
children who firmly believe in the great human
motto: Where there's a will there's a way."

' And learned speech, I fi
with me,
Induces a siesta."

With book and scroll, the Sage walked out,
One damp and rainy morning.
About his heels his mantle flapped,
But all his soul in thought was wrapped,
The ills of weather scorning.

As thus his tranquil way he went,
The cup of knowledge quaffing,

He met the Fool, a man of ease,
Who placed his hands upon his knees,
And straightway fell a-laughing.

"Most honest sir," he cried aloud,
"I can but wonder whether
That pondrous mass of learned stuff
You carry there be dry enough
To shield you from this weather! "

"Peace, motley Fool!" the Sage replied.
"Men think you monstrous clever.
Would you were truly wise, like me !
Alack I think you fain would be
A motley Fool forever! "

" Now, by my bauble," cried the Fool,
" Thou man of melancholy,
Save for our differing dress and mien,
There 's not a man can judge between
Your learning and my folly! "



s85.1 A FOOL S WISDOM. 445

"i HE Sage raised eyes and
hands to heaven;
When, as it chanced, he
And in a muddy ditch, and
A sight to make the hard-
ened weep !--
c The man of learning tumbled.

S" Now, faith," exclaimed the laughing Fool,
'His bells, hilarious, tinkling,
I '11 prove my words are sound and true !
S' 1 You shall be I, and I '11 be you-
*I-$$Rt$t5. A. 9We 'll fix it in a twinkling.

,. z Lend me your mud-bespattered gown,-
STr I never mind a wetting,-
'- And put you on this pretty suit,
My merry cap and bells, to boot,
'T will charm you out of fretting.
I- ," You, sir, shall play the Fool to-day,
And I the learned miser.
S- We two..wil have some dainty sport,
And, take my word, in all the court,
No one will be the";wiser! "


ALF-willingly the Sage arose
And donned the red and
SAnd down the street he
went apace,
With gaudy dress and
somber face,
A mirth-provoking

From all the town the
merry folk
Who loved the Fool, ran after,
And hailed his maxims and his saws,
His arguments and learned laws
With clamorous shouts of laughter.

Before the jovial King he stood,
His vaunted powers displaying.
The courtiers laughed until they cried,
The monarch held his aching side,
And roared at each new saying.

"Good sirs," he murmured, spent with mirth,
"Give this rare Fool some money.
For, faith, and I can laugh no more.
In all my life, I ne'er before
Heard anything so funny!"

Abashed and mortified, the Sage
Drew back, with frown scholastic;
While still they took his mien severe
For some new quirk of humor queer,
Exquisitely fantastic.




I EANWHILE, the Fool dis-
coursed to those
Who used the Sage to
They heard, with nods
of wise assent,
His reasoning gravely
ses hollow.

With spectacles astride
his nose,
And air insinuating,
He urged and argued and explained,
And ever eager listeners gained,
To hear his solemn prating.


T night he sought the van-
quished Sage,
Whose welcome was
but chilling.
"Well, sir," he cried,
with twinkling eye,
Are you convinced?
Or shall we try
The game again?
-I'm willing "

". No answer did the Sage
But changed his clothes in
And from the grinning Fool he ran,
To rise again, a sadder man
But wiser, on the morrow.

I HAVE a little laddie,-such a tiny little laddie !-
Yet he 's vowed to me quite stoutly that he '11 some day be a man.
And I 've told him that I knew it,
And felt sure that he would do it;
But, really, he 's so little that I don't see how he can !

/ ,--<..




p --

Ci. tr~- t



S'_i-' .-
.' wi rr. .

VOL. XII.--29.

r I 1





CURIOSITY has been called a "low vice," but it
must be true that we owe a great deal of our knowl-
edge of scientific matters to that very trait. Fancy
the first man that ever closely examined a piece
of coal. He picks it up from the ground, carefully
looks at it, turns it over and over, breaks it with a
stone, looks at the pieces, smells them, tastes them;
he is curious to discover just what the substance is
and what it is good for. He shows a piece to his
neighbor, but the neighbor does not know any
more about it than does he himself. Then he
tries to boil a piece, but it will not boil; a portion
is accidentally thrown intoor near his wood fire,
where it burns until it becomes red, when it throws
out heat. Then-lo and behold! he has found a
new kind of fuel, destined to be one of the most
important and useful articles the world has ever
seen. And all this, we will suppose, resulted
from a man's curiosity his desire to "find out."",
The curiosity, of which the poet speaks as being a
" low vice is the inquisitiveness displayed by shal-
low-minded people who like to pry into the per-
sonal affairs of their friends and neighbors. When
we come to pry into the mysteries which surround
us in the natural world, it is a very different mat-
ter; then we are well employed, and are exercis-
ing our minds in the right direction. Suppose
that the men and women of past ages had never
taken any interest in the earth, the ocean, the
mountains; had never sought for ores and min-
erals; had never studied improvements in naviga-
tion; had never, when sick, ascended from the
valleys and tried the health-giving breezes of the
hills above them,-would we be as happy and
comfortable as we are to-day ? No, indeed !
Now, the first analytical chemist must have been
a man of some curiosity. Of course, he did n't
know very much, and he could not be compared
with the chemists we have in these days; but he
went to work to discover of what elements iron,
coal, tin, zinc, copper, and many other things to be
met with in our daily walks of life were composed.
And work of that sort is precisely what is done by
the analytical chemist of to-day.
You and I, when we look around the world, see
hundreds-yes, thousands-of articles and sub-
stances the nature of which appears to us very

strange. And yet all these different articles are
composed of one or more substances out of a list of
sixty; and these substances are called, by the an-
alytical chemist, "elements."
To illustrate: Suppose your father said to your
elder sister, "Louise, you shall have a diamond
ring for your birthday." She, I suppose, would
say that he was very kind. But suppose, before
the birthday came, he should get to talking some
evening about having been unfortunate in business,
and should express grave doubts as to whether he
could keep his promise. Louise, like a good girl,
would tell him not to worry on that account; that
she could wait. Then perhaps the talk would turn
on the value of diamonds, and Louise might say
that there was nothing like them in the world. Her
father would maintain that there was, and would
tell her that, if she desired, he would bring her a
substance which was composed of precisely the same
simple element as a diamond, and weighing three
times as much as the ring he had promised her.
The next night her father would show her a ring
roughly made out of charcoal, and tell her (what
might perhaps be news to her) that chemists had
discovered that a diamond and a piece of char-
coal were composed of the same simple element -
There are two kinds of practical chemistry: one
is analytical chemistry, and the other synthetical
The business of an analytical chemist is the
separating or resolving of compounds into their
constituent elements. If you gave a mineral or a
chemical to a chemist, he could separate them and
tell you of what they were composed. Suppose
you gave him a piece of gypsum, and asked him
to tell you what it was. By certain methods
known to the profession he would discover the
sulphuric acid which it contained. Then he would
find lime in it, and, finding no other substance in
its composition, he would promptly tell you the
piece was sulphate of lime, which is gypsum, or
plaster of Paris.
A synthetical chemist is one who takes the ele-
ments of which I have spoken and from them,
by various combinations, builds up different sub-
stances. For instance: while the analytical
chemistry, as I have just explained, would separate
gypsum into its elements,-sulphuric acid and

* Copynght by G. J. Manson, 1884.





lime,--synthetical chemistry would take sulphuric
acid and lime, and, by adding them together in the
proper proportions, would make sulphate of lime,
the common name for which is plaster of Paris.
"Well," you may say, "suppose the chemist
can do all this, of what use is it ?" I will give you
an instance of its usefulness. In the city where
I live the young people were greatly agitated one
summer on account of several persons having been
poisoned by eating ice-cream. Now, the analyti-
cal chemist was at the bottom of this ice-cream
scare. The Board of Health had asked him to
analyze some of the same kind of cream eaten by
the persons who had been made sick. He made
his report, stating that the poison had been caused
by the vessels in which the cream was made; and
forthwith all the people, for a time, ceased eating
ice-cream. Just so, on another occasion, with soda-
water. He examined the soda-fountains in the
drug stores, told the Board of Health that the
pipes, as they were arranged, could not be kept
clean, and that they were sure to develop a cer-
tain kind of poison. People stopped drinking
soda-water, the druggists lost a great deal of
money, and were obliged to adopt new methods
of serving the beverage.
But let us see how useful is the work of the
analytical chemist in other ways. He tells the
iron-dealer how much iron there is in the ore he
proposes to sell; and the same in regard to gold
andisilver ore. He tells you whether your coffee
anddyour sugar are good or adulterated. The
boards of health in the different cities frequently
call upon him to report on the purity of the candy
of which the American boys and girls are so very
fond. All kinds of precious stones are subjects of
his investigation. Almost all the chemicals used
by the various manufacturers are sold upon the
basis of their purity as determined by the chemist;
and a certificate of an analytical chemist often is re-
quired by the buyer before he will make a purchase.
A boy who desires to enter this profession can,
in the larger cities, get some knowledge of its
general principles in the public schools. This,
of course, must be followed by a technicaltraining
in a college or school where the subject is specially
taught. Take, for instance, the School of Mines,
in New York. A boy can not enter there until he
is seventeen years of age. The course of instruc-
tion occupies four years. The instruction is given
by lectures and recitations. During the first year
the student makes experiments with simple chem-
icals ih the laboratory, listens to lectures, of which
he is obliged to take full notes, and goes through
blackboard exercises and recitations. During the
second and third years he analyzes more complex
substances, and during the fourth year he devotes

his time to laboratory work. The annual tuition
fees are about two hundred and fifty dollars.
Board, including room-rent, fire and light, and
washing, may be had in New York for from six
dollars and fifty cents to thirteen dollars per week.
The same general remarks will apply also to the
great Institute of Technology in Boston.
And now a word or two about the chances of
success in the profession. Analytical chemists are
employed much more generally than they were
years ago. Manufacturers are making more use
of them. Most of the large chemical houses em-
ploy their own chemists. They are also employed
at metallurgical and fertilizing works, in paint-
houses, in oil-works, in sugar-refineries, in dye-
works, in gold, silver, and iron works, in rolling-
mills; and a great many railroads have chemists to
analyze the iron or steel rails used for their roads.
Chemists as a rule receive from one thousand
to twelve hundred dollars a year. This seems
small when we consider to what expense a young
man has been put to obtain the necessary educa-
tion. Sometimes, however, in a manufacturing
house where he has made himself particularly use-
ful, a chemist may receive eighteen hundred or two
thousand dollars, and, as superintendent of works,
he might get five thousand or ten thousand dol-
lars; but such cases are very exceptional. One
reason why salaries are smaller in our large cities
is said to be found in the number of competent
chemists who have come from Germany, and who
are willing to work for lower wages than their
American brethren demand.
When a chemist has, after years of study and
long practice, thoroughly qualified himself in his
profession, he can give what is called "an expert
opinion." This, as Sam Weller might say, "is an
opinion as is much more valuable than an opinion
as is not expert." In a lawsuit, for example,
chemists would'be employed by both sides, and
an expert would receive from fifty dollars a day
to twenty-five dollars an hour. If an expert exam-
ined a mine, made a report on the formation,
gave his views on the likelihood of its paying the
people who intended to purchase it, he would be
paid perhaps five or six hundred dollars and all
expenses. But, remember, there are very few ex-
perts," and that those who enjoy that reputation
have paid the price of long-continued study, of
hard and enthusiastic labor, for the reputation
they have made. A young man might obtain the
best education to be afforded at a first-class col-
lege; he might open offices fitted up in the very
best of style, and, sending out his cards, Pro-
fessor Jonas Quigley, Expert Analytical Chemist,"
might stand at his door on the tip-toe of expectation
waiting for clients until he was old and gray, with-



out receiving a single call to exhibit his analytical
ability. As I say, he must work long and hard,
and have a real genius for his profession, before
he can hope to become an expert.
In the Far West, where there are so many mines,
an analytical chemist may gain both success and
money in the examination of ores; but the great
bulk of chemical work is done in the Eastern States,
where there are so many manufacturing industries
in which such services as he can give are in demand.
The South is rich in phosphates and in metallur-
gical works; but, unless a young man has a prom-
ise of special employment, the Eastern States are
considered the best. In the city of New York (where
so many young men, in all businesses and profes-
sions, foolishly think fortunes are easily made),
there is such a host of chemists, and such a con-
stant struggle to get what work there is, that a
beginner would probably meet with some dis-
couragement. Some young men open offices,
where they do a general business in assaying.
They may previously have been employed in
some old-established office having a large list of cus-
tomers. Some of the clients of their old employer,
seeing that the young men have started for them-
selves, may give them patronage, believing that they
will thereby get the work done at a cheaper price.
One very important work performed by the ana-
lytical chemist--important for him on account of
the pay he receives, and important for society in
leading to the detection of a certain class of crim-
inals -is the examination of the human stomach

after death, in cases of suspected poisoning. This
doubtless seems like very gloomy and unpleasant
work, but chemists say that practically there is
nothing disagreeable about it. They usually re-
ceive five hundred dollars for such an analysis,
and they are required to testify on the trial.
I have said that the pay of the analytical chemist,
as a rule, is small; but, perhaps, his profession
makes up in interest what it lacks in mone-
tary reward. His work is in a laboratory. He is
dealing with the secrets of nature. He is per-
forming all manner of experiments -now blow-
ing with a blow-pipe on a bit of metal to test
its nature; now experimenting with acids; now
weighing the tiniest amounts of matter on scales
specially constructed for such work; and so the
analytical chemist passes on from simple experi-
ments to others more difficult, until, after long
experience, he is able to work such wonders that
to an outside observer he appears in his labora-
tory more like a wonderful magician than a pro-
fessor working in accordance with certain known
rules and laws.
In this, as in every other business, there are
those who will achieve prominence as well as
those who will only drudge. But let it be borne
in mind that it is an occupation in which both
fama, and fortune have been attained, and in
which any young man whose heart is really in
his work may, with study and perseverance, ad-
vance not only his own interests but those also
of the profession which he has chosen.


" MAMMY is old and wrinkled and black,
With sooty, crinkly hair;
But just as dear to little Sue
As if she were young and fair.

And as I passed the nursery door,
The sweet child's voice I heard
Say, as she patted "Mammy's" cheek:
Oo sweet littlee hummin'-bird! "



s885.] "UNCLE BEN." 453



" OF all the disagreeable people, of all the horrible, cross old men
That ever lived,"--said my angry Dolly,-" the very meanest is 'Uncle Ben'!
You need n't look at me, I 'm in earnest; just wait till I tell you what he said,
And what he did to poor Rip Van Winkle; and see, then, whether you'll shake your head!
Horrid, hateful"-the naughty speeches came tumbling over each other so fast,
That instead of shaking my head at Dolly, it was Dolly herself I shook at last!

"Don't you know, oh, you little tempest! that 'Uncle Ben' has his work to do,
And is bound himself by regulations which he has no right to break for you ?
He's employed to keep the park in order, and dogs are never allowed, you know;
So what can the poor man do, I wonder, when naughty children bother him so ?
You should n't have taken Rip Van Winkle, and you are the one that is to blame."
But he should n't have kicked him sputtered Dolly. He should n't have called him a
horrid name."

All in the heat of her indignation, flushed and defiant Dolly stood,
And Dolly's mother was morally certain that scolding would do no sort of good.
But Adam, the gardener gray and wrinkled, Adam the man whose words are wise,
Looked up from the grape-vine he was pruning, with grave rebuke in his honest eyes.
"We're all poor creturs," said he, "poor creturs! According' to Scripter we 're prone to err;
An' Ben Bogardus is no exception. So mebbe Miss Dolly is right-so fur.
But we ought n't to be too quick in jedgement until we know what a man 's been through: -
You would n't be quite so ready, I reckon, to rail at Ben, if you only knew."

"Knew what?" cried Dolly. "It's no use, Adam" (tossing her curls with a stubborn air),
" To talk like that, for it does n't matter. Whatever it is, I should n't care.
I think 'Uncle Ben' is perfectly horrid. I always shall, whatever you say;
So you need n't tell me! "
But Adam, regardless, kept right on in his quiet way.
You never heard tell of 'The Swallow,' did you? It 's nigh upon forty years ago,
That she struck on a rock in the further channel, one night when the sky was thick with snow.
There was n't a chance to reach or help her, though the town-folk swarmed up here in the park,
And we heard the screams, and the splitting timbers awful sounds to hear in the dark!
I '11 never forget 'em," said Adam, slowly, shaking his head with a look of pain.
" Sometimes in the night, when I wake up sudden, it seems as if I heard 'em again.
An' often enough I 've dreamed about it -the pitiful sight I saw next day,
When the poor drowned creturs drifting shoreward, in an' out o' the water lay.
Men an' women, an' little children! I counted 'em up to thirty-five,
When we laid 'em out in the town-hall yonder; and there was n't a single soul alive.
Mostly strangers they were, an' traders, bound for York, an' come from the West;
But one was a neighbor--a little woman, with a bit of a baby hugged to her breast.
I can see her still," said the old man, gently (he glanced at Dolly and gravely smiled);
" And I '11 never forget how I felt when I saw it was Ben Bogardus's wife and child."

" Oh, Adam! it was n't! I can't believe it!" My Dolly's cheeks with her blushes flamed,
And her quick tears sprang. You want to tease me, and I think you ought to be ashamed! "
But stern was the old man's face, and solemn the look and tone with which he spoke.
It is n't the sort of thing, Miss Dolly, that I 'd be likely to say in joke.
No, no-it was poor Ben's wife and baby, just as I told you, that lay there dead.
Poor little things !-you can't much wonder the shock and the trouble turned Ben's head.

I 'm not denying he 's cross and cranky; but he 's lived a desolate sort of life,
And folks do say he 's been kind o' crazy, more or less, since he lost his wife.
Mebbe it 's true, an' mebbe it is n't; but this is the p'int I 'm coming' to-
We ought n't to be too harsh in jedgin', until we know what a man 's been through."

He turned him about, this wise old Adam, and clipped at the vines, and said no more.
My Dolly watched him, her bosom swelling with mingled feelings unknown before.
She pleated the ruffle of her apron with restless hands for a minute's space,
Then softly whispered, "I 'm sorry, Adam and ran away with a crimson face.

A little later I saw her plucking out of her own small garden-bed
Pinks and pansies and ragged-robins, and tying them up with a ribbon red.

KB -- <.,I ~ - \ /
SI .. .. .


4_ ... 4 .1

And from that time forth, I'm glad to tell you before my true little story ends,
My Dolly (forgive her naughty tempers )- and Uncle Ben" were the best of friends.





(Recollections of a Page in the United States Senate.)


As THIS is the month ushered in by April Fools'
Day, it will not be out of place to leave the more
sober and imposing side of life among the law-
makers and take a glimpse at some of the comical-
ities which we Senate pages enjoyed. Many of my
companions were born actors, equally successful in
both tragedy and comedy. One in particular, whom
I will call "Tom," had an especial preference for
the character in Shakespearean and other tragedies
known as the heavy villain," and he was usually
encountered, cane in hand, wildly fencing the air
with "two up, two down, and a lunge." One day,
during an executive session of the Senate, we were
all assembled in our favorite vestibule, when this
page began declaiming in his usual high style and
thrusting around at imaginary ghosts and foes.
The door leading to the Chamber was shut, and
he would occasionally make a violent charge at
it. Having recited King Richard's famous night-
mare and a few other choice selections (which we,
standing in the marble niches, properly applauded),
he cried out lustily:
Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.
I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day, instead of him.
Just at this moment the door slowly opened from
within. Tom, however, had hunched his back,
and, with his eyes fiercely rolling and head down-
ward, like a goat preparing to "butt," was alto-
gether too excited to notice our alarumss "; and
as he declaimed the famous line,
A horse! a horse my kingdom for a horse!
he made a leap, and, with a terrific dive of the
cane,, took a certain well-known senator, who shall
here be nameless, full in his senatorial stomach !
There was, in truth, a decidedly hasty "retreat
and flourish" on the part of the senatorial Richmond,
but we did not wait for the curtain to fall. We
made a stampede through the swinging doors and
down the corridor, followed by Tom, who, revers-
ing the proper order of affairs, still flourished his
sword," and shouted at the top of his voice:
Victorious friends, the day is ours!
Some of our tragic recitations were too sacred
for the profane eyes of outsiders." Of the many

solemn councils held by us in the President's Room
with closed doors; or of how we were surprised
on several occasions by the unexpected arrival
of President Grant; or how we fled through the
open windows, retreated via the balcony and
Marble Room, and appeared with innocent looks
of wonder before the enraged group vainly trying
to unlock the door, with the dead-latch down on
the other side, I need not speak. These were
trivial matters, although the President himself and
Captain Bassett did not seem to take them as phil-
osophically as we did. Few things could disturb
our equanimity.
But, of course, we did not confine our acting to
secret vestibules and dungeons. Our energy de-
manded still higher and more public stages of
action; and even as the Senate throws aside its
frigid dignity at night sessions, and everybody
does about as he pleases, we also often found
it impossible to curb our desire for a little more
freedom of action than the rules allowed. Captain
Bassett, however, did his best to prevent too much
sacrilege in the day-time. His favorite amuse-
ment was to sit peacefully in his chair, and, when
an erring page returned and sat down near the
chair, to catch hold of the ear of that page and
give it a gentle twist.
Senator Gorman, who was a distinguished figure
in the last Presidential campaign, as manager of
the Democratic interests, was formerly a page;
and Captain Bassett once told me that he has
many a time pulled the Honorable Gorman's ears
as vigorously as he has pulled mine. I was glad
to hear it.
In retaliation upon the Captain, I may state that
there was one way in which we could appease him
-by giving him peppermint lozenges or broken
horehound candy. I always adopted that course.
It was "fun" to see the Captain take a lozenge
and convey it to his mouth, with his eyes turned
heavenward and a demure expression on his coun-
tenance as though he were studying the curious
pictures on the large glass blocks in the, ceiling.
Such is the man who pulled the ears of Senator
Gorman and myself!
He has been in continuous service for more than
fifty years. Next to him, in length of service and
rank of office, comes equally good-natured James
I. Christie, who is a sort of Lieutenant," and,
with the Sergeant-at-Arms, guards the Vice-Presi-

* Copyright, 1884, by Edmund Alton. All rights reserved.


dent on his right. We pages considered that we
ranked next. The Captain and Mr. Christie are the
most highly valued officers of the Senate. I do not
know what it would do without them. The Cap-
tain started in as a page. At that time there was
but one in the Senate, and Daniel Webster wanted
young Isaac Bassett appointed as an additional
page. The other senators thought it a great ex-
travagance-two pages for forty-eight senators!
It was enough to bankrupt the Republic Captain
Bassett declares that there was a hot debate over
the suggestion of Webster. However, Webster
fought hard and, with his great eloquence, suc-
ceeded. SoyoungBassettwas appointed. Although
his hair is now as white as snow, he loves fun and
is still as merry as a boy. Just think of it He was
a Senate officer when the Senate met in the old
Chamber, now occupied by the Supreme Court;
when the House met in their old Hall, now occu-
pied by statuary donated by the States; when the
evening sessions of both Houses had to be illumi-
nated by "tallow dips." He has heard Webster,
Hayne, Clay, Calhoun, Bernt.:.-. Douglas, and he
has seen -why, I believe he has seen nearly all the
The Captain's recollection of the days when
senators dressed in swallow-tailed coats causes him
to shudder when "innovations" are suggested.
But these "innovations are constantly going on.
It has for many years been the clutomr to'irritc the
name of each senator on a st l:p o:I i\ or .-. hlt :-
wood, and fasten it on his desk by way of identifi-
cation, as Mr. Sumner," Mr. Cole," "Mr. Fen-
ton." Last year these wooden labels were removed,
and silver plates substituted, bearing simply the
surname without the "Mr.," as "Bayard,"
"Edmunds," "Ransom." I understand the Cap-
tain has not yet recovered from this horrible act of


ONE of our favorite performances, in the comedy
line, was to caricature the proceedings of the Sen-
ate. Frequently, upon finishing our filing, in the
morning, as we would have nothing else to do, one
of us would take the Vice-President's chair and call
the "Senate" to order in right Parliamentary
fashion. The proceedings of such a session were
sometimes eccentric, but of course conducted strict-
ly according to the rules of Congressional proced-
ure; for the pages of my day had really a good
knowledge of Parliamentary law.

Most of our sessions were characterized by scenes
of disorder that, as one member of our little com-
pany disrespectfully remarked, "were worthy of
the Lower House." In fact, they almost invariably
broke up amid the wildest confusion- generally,
however, because we ran them too near the hour
for the assembling of the real law-makers, and were
forced to decamp. Senators, Representatives,
House and Supreme Court pages, and other
" stragglers" would come in during our debates,
listen spell-bound to our wonderful oratory and
keen logic, and admire the aptitude shown by
our presiding officer in applying the rules of the
It was usual for us to parody the actual debates
of Congress, and we would often take up copies
of the Globe of the preceding day, distributed on
the desks of senators, and follow the order of
events there reported, with "variations" and other
"improvements" in language and gestures. As
it would be unfair to omit so historic a matter as
a session for debate by these make-believe law-
makers, I will give you a brief and mild specimen,
and you may judge for yourselves in what respects
such a "Senate" resembled or differed from its
great prototype.

.(Actual names are used because of the senatorial seats occupied by
the pages. The senators with whose names this liberty is taken
should not bear improper odium on that account. The bracket
remarks are such as would be used by official reporters.)

TOM (assuming the chair, and giving a loud rap with the
gavel): The Senate will come to order, and the Secretary will read
the journal of yesterday's proceedings.
DICK (acting as Secretary, reading solemnly): Oh, frubjous
day! Calloo! Callay.-
HARRY (rising from the seat of Senator Cameron): Mr. Presi-
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom, of course): The senator from
SENATOR CAMERON (Harry): I move that the reading of the
journal be dispensed with.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: The senator from Pennsylvania moves
that the reading of the journal be dispensed with. Is there objec-
tion ? [After a pause .] The Chair hears none. The Chair will
lay before the Senate a communication from the King of the Fiji
GEORGE (from the place of Senator Carpenter): I move that it
be thrown into the waste-basket.
(Motion carried.)
SENATOR X. (Fred); (standing in the aisle): Mr. President
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: The senator from Nowhere. [Applause.]
SENATOR X.: Mr. President, I rise to a question of privilege.
In yesterday's Coyote, a sheet that pretends to be a journal for the
dissemination of news, there is an article seriously attacking my
reputation, accusing me of bribery and other high crimes and mis-
demeanors. Ordinarily I would take no notice of such a thing, but
as everybody seems to believe it, [Voices: "We do, we do !" "Is
n't it true ?'" etc.], I consider that I owe it to this body, of which I
have the honor to be a member, to ask for the appointment of a
special Committee of Investigation.

The old Hall of Representatives in the Capitol now goes by the name of Statuary Hall," to which Congress has invited each State
to contribute statues of her most eminent citizens. Some States have availed themselves of the privilege; many have not yet acted upon it.




SENATOR HAMILIN (Bob): I suggest that the matter lie on the
table for the present. The House of Representatives has consumed
nearly all the revenues of the country for investigating purposes.
And I wish to find out whether there is enough money left in the
Treasury to meet this proposed expense. [A voice: "Raise tie
Taxes!"] I think, however, that the reporter who inserted the
article should be excluded from the privileges of the gallery.
SENATOR X. (Fred): I am willing that the matter go over until
to-morrow. [A general sigh of relief Voice: You'llnever hear
of ltat again "]

of the subject I would like to ask him if he was not convicted of
stealing from a sutler's wagon during the war of 1812. [Great
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe) (coolly, but with cutting irony): Very
likely; I was born in 1858 [Laughter andafplause.\
SENATOR BAYARD (Jack): I meant no discourtesy. I merely
asked for information. [Renewed laughter.]
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): I yield the floor to my friend, the
senator from Nowhere (Fred), as he is under an important engage-
ment to attend a base-ball match this afternoon.

-^- of t

"% K .. "


VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) (striking with his gavel): The morn-
ing hour having expired, the Chair lays before the Senate the unfin-
ished business of yesterday. [The clerk reads the title of a bill to
appropriate a million dollars for the purchase of the North Pole.]
.Joe, as SENATOR EDMUNDS, is recognized by the Chair as kav-
ing had the floor when the Senate adjourned the previous day.
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): Mr. President, when the Senate
adjourned yesterday I was speaking of- [Several voices: Oh,
we remember where you left off." The mock-senator pays no heed
to the interruption.]- the sacred trust reposed in us as the guard-
ians of the public funds -
SENATOR CAMERON (Harry): Will the senator from Vermont per-
mit me to ask him a question ?
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom): Does the senator from Vermont
yield to the senator from Pennsylvania ?
SENATOR EDMUNDs (Joe): No; I can not be disturbed. [To
Senator Cameron (Harry) :] You made your speech yesterday.
Now, let me make mine.
SENATOR CAMERON (Harry): I would like to ask you if-
SENATOR EDUwNDS (Joe) (emphatically): Will you desist?--
[Great laughter and applause. The senator continues, after
restoration of order:] and of the integrity and fidelity with
which we should exercise that--
SENATOR BAYARD (Jack): Before the senator leaves that branch

SENATOR X (Fred) having the floor, proceeds quietly to rub
the intellectual part of his head with Ais handkerchief, brushes
back his hair, adjusts his cravat, coughs, stretches his arms as if
prepared for a" set speech," andatletngth begins: Mr. President-
Mr. President-Mr. President-ahem!-achoo!-this here [hits
the desk] -this question am one-
SENATOR CARPENTER (George): Mr. President, I rise to a Par-
liamentary inquiry!
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom): The senator will state it.
SENATOR CARPENTER (George) : I wish to ask if the senator can
massacre the English language with impunity.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tonm): Certainly. He not only can, but
does [Hands to the Clerk U. S. Constitrdion. Clerk reads Art. I.,
Sec. VI., Cl. I.
SENATOR CARPENTER: But under the second clause of the pre-
ceding section we have authority to control such matters by a rule.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: But there is no rule on the subject.
SENATOR CARPENTER (taking his seat with a crestfallen air):
Well, there ought to be. It should be made a penitentiary offense.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: The senator from Nowhere will proceed.
SENATOR X. (Fred): I congratulate the senator from Wisconsin for
his welcome suggest. I was hasty. I oughter know'd better. I
will suspect the proprietaries of debate and be more carefuller in
futurio. [Cries of "Keep to English." "Please let sone kind of


language be left."] Now, then, what were I saying when I left
off? [Prompted by a friend.]- Oh, yes. This question is one
[Voice: "No, it is n't It are two who is likely to give large
unsatisfaction to the sovereignty populace! [Smiles, as if he hIad
produced afine burst of eloquence. Waits for applause. It does
not come. Appears dejected. Face suddenly lights iu, as with a
happy thought. Strikes the desk, waves his arms wildly about like
those of a windmill, and yells:] Public extravergance, Mr. Presi-
dent,-(another slap),- public (thump) and private (thump) ex-
travergance (heavy thump) caused the downfall of- of- [refers to
paper] of Rome [thumpi. thumfp !!] Page, bring me GIBBoN'S
HISTORY--. I will pass that portion of my remarks, Mr. Presi-
dent, for the present, until I have got the volume. Again, as the
senator from Vermont so haply said, what is our responsibilities as
legislators? Now, that there last idea [Voice: "Doyou call that an
idea "] suggests another. The provisoes of our glorious Constitu-
tion is too broad [Strikes a file of papers and sends several of
tntem into the face of his neighbor. Leans over his desk. to apologize
and knocks of a volume nfon the head of the mock-senator in
front. Applause and cries of "Bravo!." 'Encore!" etc.] It's
unwise for to have this unlimitless power over the public funds.
There oughter to be some restrict put upon it, so as in order to pre-
vent extravergance, and that there can't be no inadvantage taken!
[Applause by an attentive rural constituent in the gallery, who
thinks it is the Senate itself in session.]
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) [rapping with his gavel and speak-
ingftercely]: The Chair desires to admonish those occupyingseatsin
the galleries against further demonstrations. [Rural constituent gets
scared and goes out. Other folks lanughat this; Pice-President
continues to rap.]
SENATOR X. : Now, then,-
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) [still rapping] : The senator will
suspend until order is restored. [Rap rap rap -!- Here, two
genuine senators enter, and pause to "take in the situation."] Gen-
tlemen in the rear of the seats will. please be seated [Rap! rap!
rap !] The Chair requests senators to take their seats. [Rap rap !
The senator from Nowhere will proceed.
SENATOR X. (Fred): Mr. President, from the way things are go-
ing, and the way things have went, we will soon be like unto Rome,
and I shall now read from Gibbon, as the volume are here. [Opens
a book and is about to read.]
SEVERAL MOCK-SENATORS [jumping to their feet and simultan-
cously exclaiming : Mr. President, I rise to a point of order.
VICE-PRESIDENT [recognizing Senator Edmunds (Joe)] : The
senator from Vermont will state his point of order.
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): My point of order is that the senator
from Nowhere is out of order. He must speak to the bill. We can
not waste our valuable time in listening to such trash.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) : The senator is himself out of order.
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): No, I'm not! [Excitement.]
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) : I tell you, you are and I wont be
answered back either! [Increased excitement.]
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe) [meekly]: Well, why am I?
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) [recovering his dignity]: For using
unparliamentary language. [Cries of "Let the words be taken
down," fake him apologize," etc.]
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): Well, I ask for a ruling on my point.
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) : The point of order raised by the
senator is well taken. The senator from Nowhere will proceed in
order and confine his remarks to the subject under consideration.
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): Does the Chair sustain my point of
order ?
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: The point of order is sustained.
SENATOR EDMUNDS (Joe): I appeal from the decision of the Chair.
[Great uproar, cries ofI Are you crazy?" A Supreme Court
fage sticks his head through the door and shouts out a disrespectful
remark. Terrifc hubbub, cries renewed : "Turn the rascal out!
Supreme Court page ejected.]
SENATOR X. (Fredi : Mr. President, are it in order to move that the
senator from Vermont be lynched? [Cries of Treason!"]
SENATOR X.: Then I make that motion. [Renewed uproar,
and general confusion.]
VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) [rapping and shouting]: The Chair
wishes to remind senators that this is not the House of Representa-
tives. [Instantaneous silence.]

SENATOR CARPENTER (George): As it is manifest that the Senate
is not in a mood to listen to my friend from Nowhere, I ask that he
yield for a motion to go into executive session.
SENATOR X.: Not by any means! I intend to finish this
speech! [Criesof Goon Hear! hear /"]
THE VICE-PRESIDENT: The senator from Wisconsin moves that
the Senate do now proceed to the consideration of executive busi-
ness. Those in favor of that motion will say "aye" [shrieks:;
those opposed will say "no" [louder shrieks]; the "ayes" have
it. The sergeant-at-arms will clear the galleries and close the
[One of the mock-senators converts himself into the sergeant-at-
arms, and moves about as ifrequesting people to leave the chamber.
SENATOR X. screams that the VICE-PRESIDENT had no right to
"entertain any motion" while he had the floor. THE VICE-PRES-
IDENT says he understood the senator to yield, and suggests that the
senator hereafter get an interpreter to explain his peculiarjar-
gon. This provokes the orator's wrath.]
SENATOR X. (Fred): I propose to be heard on this bill. I'll notbe
gagged. I want to say that I believe there is n't any pole at the
North. I believe that this bill are a wasteless misuse of the people's
money! a piece of robbery! a job! [Continued excitement.] Let
us spend what money we have on that nav- [flourishing his
arms, and looking straight at Senator CAMERON (Harry)].
SENATOR CAMERON (Harry) [indignantly]: Who's a knave?
SENATOR X. (Fred): Nobody.
SENATOR CAMERON [in an excited basso]: What did you look this
way for, then ?
SENATOR X. [baritone]: I was saying -
THE VICE-PRESIDENT (Tom) [rapping, and in a high tenor]:
Senators will please address their remarks to the Chair!
SENATOR CAMERON (Harry) [in a shrill falsetto] : I '11 not be
insulted t
[The remainder of his speech is lost in the confusion. Senator X.
manages to say somethiungabout "thatnavy ofours." SenatorCam-
eron (Harry) vociferates, andflourishes apaper-cutteras a weapon.
Miodre cries. All the mock-senators jump to their feet. Great
The hand of the clock is notfar from the hour of twelve. Captain
Bassett hears the noise, rushes in from the lobby, and walks
sternly toward our presiding officer (Tom). ,
A mock-senator on thefloor rescues the dignity of the mock-senate
by a motion to adjourn. A nd our presiding officer still has strength
aud pluck enough to Ptul the question, give the table a soft blow with
the gavel, and, amid general laughter and applause, announce an
adjournment to the next day! EXEUNT!]

Soon the real Vice-President and the Chap-
lain appear; the Senate is called to order, and
enters upon its dreary work; and the atmosphere
again subsides into a lugubrious calm.



DURING the fall of 1872, the country emerged
from a presidential and congressional election, in
which "economy in the administration of public
affairs had been a loud party cry. There is no
doubt that there were abuses, and that there was
room for retrenchment of expenses in certain
features of the public service, and one of these
abuses was what is termed the Franking Privilege.
The Franking Privilege permitted congressmen
and other officials to write their signatures on
envelopes and other packages, and send letters and




documents through the mail without payment of
postage. Such a signature was a "frank"; and
some congressmen were rather careless and franked
private matter of friends which ought to have paid
postage, thus causing the Government to lose a
great deal of money which the Post-office Depart-
ment would otherwise have collected from the sale
of stamps.
When the law-makers met in December, they
set about correcting this abuse, and in January an
act was passed, and became a law, utterly abolish-
ing the franking privilege.
Now, General Benjamin F. Butler, who was
then a member of the House, had an idea that, as
congressmen were compelled, by the abolition of
the Franking Privilege, to buy postage stamps,
they ought to have their salaries increased. So,
shortly after the passage of the Act, and on the 7th
of February, 1873, he reported from the Committee
on the Judiciary, a bill which was numbered H. R.
3852,* "to amend the salaries of the three De-
partments of the Government." It was read a first
and second time and referred back to the Com-
mittee on the Judiciary. On the Ioth of February,
General Butler made a motion that the House sus-
pend its rules in order to pass a resolution directing
the Committee on Appropriations to include in the
"Miscellaneous Appropriation Bill the provisions
of Bill No. 3852. To suspend the rules requires a
two-thirds vote, and, as the General did not succeed
in getting that number, his motion failed.
On the 24th of that month, however, he saw his
chance. It was night. The House had resolved itself
into a Committee of the Whole on the state of the
Union $ (Mr. Dawes occupying the Chair instead
of Speaker Blaine), and was proceeding to consider
the amendments of the Senate to the general ap-
propriation bill, entitled: A bill making appro-
priations for the legislative, executive, and judicial
expenses of the Government for the year ending
June thirtieth, eighteen hundred and seventy-four,
and for other purposes." That bill had previously
passed the House, and gone to the Senate. But
the Senate had made numerous amendments to it,
and had sent it back to the House. One of those
amendments provided that the salary of a Senate
Clerk should be raised from $2592 to $3600,

and the House Committee on Appropriations
advised that the House concur in that amendment,
with a further amendment increasing the salaries
of a number of their own clerks.
That is where the snow-ball began. General
Butler saw that a spirit of liberality had taken pos-
session of some of the members, and he thereupon
offered as an amendment to the amendment of the
Committee, to be substituted for it, a long provi-
sion, which was almost word for word the language
of Bill No. 3852, which he had previously tried to
have passed, but without success. This amend-
ment of General Butler's contained the salary-
grab and back-pay provision. It provided that,
on and after the 4th day of March, 1873, the pay
of the President should be $50,000 instead of $25,-
ooo; that of the Chief-justice of the United States,
$10,500, and of the Associate Justices of the
Supreme Court, $1o,ooo each; that the Vice-
President and Speaker of the House should receive
$10,000 each; that the Cabinet Officers should
receive $io,ooo each, and three of the Assistant
Secretaries, $6,500 each; and that the salaries of
the Senators, and Representatives, and Delegates
should be increased from $5000 to $7500 a year
each, and that the members of the Forty-second
Congress should be paid at that rate, from the be-
ginning of the Congress, two years before (thus
giving to each congressman, as "back-pay,"
$5000), and that $1,200,000 should be appropri-
ated to cover this "back-pay."
Immediately after the reading of the proposed
amendment, it was subjected to a fusillade of
" points of order." Under the rules, these points
of order," if "well taken," and sustained by the
Chair, or by the Committee upon an appeal from
the decision of the Chair, would have been fatal.
A general appropriation bill is too important to be
hindered and delayed by all sorts of new fancies,
and, to secure its speedy passage, the rules do not
favor amendments which embody the substance
of other bills, or do not pertain directly to the
subject under consideration. When an amend-
ment not permitted by the rules is offered, a
member has merely to make the point of order "
and show that fact, and the amendment is left out
in the cold.

The bills of each House are numbered in the order of introduction, the numbers beginning and ending with every Congress.
SI have already explained that an Appropriation Bill is one that decrees or sets apart, out of the Treasury, a certain sum of money to
defray expenses, either general or special, in one, or all, of the various departments of the Government.
SThe object of going into Committee of the Whole is to permit freer discussion, as the strict rules of the House do not then apply.
When the House goes into Committee of the Whole, the Speaker leaves the Chair and designates a member to take it. All the other
members thereupon constitute a Committee" (instead of the House"), and they address their presiding officer as Mr. Chairman,"
instead of Mr. Speaker." After transacting its work, the Committee "rises," the Speaker resumes the Chair, and the House receives the
report of the Chairman just as if it were the report of any other committee. In the Senate this formality of going into Committee of the
Whole is merely assumed," the presiding officer being always Mr. President," and the journal merely stating that the Senate as in
Committee of the Whole did so and so. But, whatever action is taken "in Committee of the Whole," by either of the Congressional
bodies, must be done over again by the "House" or "Senate," in order to be of effect; otherwise it is of no more value "than the
report of any other committee."



This measure, therefore, that was destined to
raise so much dissatisfaction among the people,
was met at the very threshold by objections.
Dawes himself was opposed to it, but as Chairman
he had to apply the rules impartially. As Chair-
man of the Committee of the Whole, he overruled
the points of order made. Mr. Holman, as one
of the objectors," appealed from the decision of
the Chair. But the committee voted to sustain
the Chairman's ruling.
At last, after much debate, it came to a vote on
the proposition. The committee divided. That
is, those in favor of it stood up and were counted
by the Chairman, who said there were 93; and
then those in favor sat down, and those opposed
stood up and were counted, and they numbered
71--in all 164. Thereupon 'Mr. Holman, who
never knows when he is beaten, demanded tellers.
So tellers were ordered and appointed,* and they
shook hands and stood up in front of the Clerk's
desk, and the committee again divided. That is,
the ayes passed, one after another, between the
two tellers, who touched each of them on the back
as they passed through, and "counted" them.
Then the noess" passed through and were
counted, and the tellers reported the result to the
Chairman. There were 81 ayes and 66 noes -in
all 147.
So the amendment proposed by General Butler
was agreed upon, as well as the other amendments
increasing the pay of officers and employees of
Congress. When the committee had done this, a
motion was made that it rise," and, being agreed
to, Mr. Dawes came down from the chair and the
Speaker resumed it, and the House proper was
again at work. Then Mr. Dawes stood in front
of the Clerk's desk where the tellers had previously
stood,-- which space is called the "area of free-
dom,"- and went through the formality of report-
ing to the Speaker what had been done by the
House while in Committee of the Whole, of which
he had been Chairman. Thereupon the Speaker
reported the information back to the members
(who, of course, knew it quite as well as he did);
and then the members agreed to the amendments
again, thus making their adoption the action of
the House, and so really passing the bill. And
this explains to you the whole process of an action
of the House in Committee of the Whole."
From the House the bill went to the Senate,
and then, after a long debate, the Senate asked
for a Committee of Conference that is, a com-
mittee composed of members of both Houses-to
adjust the bill so that it should satisfy the majority
in both Houses. Such a committee was ap-

pointed, and on Monday, the third of March, the
Conference report came up for consideration in
both the Senate and the House, and it was adopted,
after a very exciting debate, by a vote of 36 to 27
in the Senate, and of 102 to 96 in the House, and
the bill thus became an act. On the morning of
March 4th the House, at 2:50 A. M., took a re-
cess until half-past nine o'clock A. M. ; and upon
re-assembling, Mr. Buckley, from the Committee
on Enrolled Bills, reported that the committee had
examined the bill and found it duly enrolled.t It
was then signed by the Speaker, and the Clerk
brought it over to the Senate. Thereupon the
parchment was signed by Vice-President Colfax,
and I stood by the side of his chair and dried the
ink of his signature with a blotter That was the
last I saw of it, but somehow it must have reached
the President's room, for shortly afterward the
President's private secretary appeared in the
House and informed that body that the Act had
been approved.
Within a few minutes after Mr. Babcock's an-
nouncement, the Speaker of the House declared
the House of Representatives of the Forty-second
Congress adjourned without day, and he and the
other law-makers thereupon marched over to the
Senate, as described last month, to attend the cere-
mony of the inauguration.
Such was the last memorable act of that Congress.
If you want to find comments on it, pick up almost
any newspaper of that year. If you want to see the
law itself, you will find it in the seventeenth volume
of the Statutes at Large, at page 485.

The people of the country were furious when
they heard of the passage of this salary-grab."
The idea of the law-makers voting to themselves
a million dollars just at the end of their terms, and
then quietly dispersing, jingling the gold in their
pockets The more the people thought of it, the
more indignant they became. There was one loud,
prolonged outburst of wrath against the members
of that Congress, which found vent in the news-
papers, the organs of public opinion," and which
swept the country from one end to the other.
The fun of it all was yet to come. Many mem-
bers had drawn their back-pay, including even
those who had opposed the measure. As the storm
of public condemnation increased in fury, those
who had not drawn were afraid to touch the
money, and those who had drawn began to feel
uneasy and to wish they had not done it, and some
even returned the money to the treasury.
Many of the representatives of the Forty-second
Congress had not been re-elected at the election of

*Tellers are appointed by the Chairman, and it is the custom to appoint as the two tellers the member who has made the demand for
them and his leading opponent.
t I have explained the enrolling of bills in a previous chapter.




1872, and never expected to be. These, of course,
were not alarmed. But many members had been
re-elected and wanted to be re-elected forever and
forever, and they were very eager to do something
to soften the wrath of their constituents. Their
wild, anxious efforts at repentance were almost
laughable. And I may as well remark here, that,
notwithstanding all their efforts, many of them
were never forgiven, but were put aside by the
people of their districts at the very next election.
Let me show you the celerity with which the
Congressmen acted upon that Salary bill, however,
when they re-assembled. The first session of the
Forty-third Congress began on Monday, the first
day of December, 1873. On Thursday, the fourth,
a resolution was offered, in the House, that the
repeal of the Salary bill," so called, should be
taken into consideration.
That resolution was agreed to; and then was
presented a pretty spectacle Nearly every mem-
ber seemed to have prepared a bill on the subject,
and was anxious to gain the credit of having re-
pealed the obnoxious law. But Mr. Hale, of
Maine, was the victor, and, on the 8th of Decem-
ber, he introduced a bill providing for the repeal
of the "Salary bill." It was referred to a com-
mittee, and was promptly reported to the House
again, with a few changes, but really as a new bill;
and then the discussion that ensued was very fierce
and exciting. Some obstinate members spoke of
the denunciation of the people as the outcry of a

lawless mob! Others spoke less defiantly. But
when it came to voting, nearly all, General Butler
included, voted for the passage of the resolution
repealing the bill! It was wonderful. And the
same is true of the Senate.
This act repealing the Salary bill was passed in
the House of Representatives, on the 17th of De-
cember, 1873, by a vote of 122 to 74! On the
i2th of January, 1874 (the holidays having inter-
vened), the Senate passed it, with an amendment,
by a vote of 50 to 8 and the title was amended so
as to read: A bill repealing the increase of sala-
ries of members of Congress and other officers."
As so amended, it provided that the increase of
the compensation of public officers and employees,
whether members of Congress, delegates, or
others, except the President of the United States
and Justices of the Supreme Court," should be
repealed, and the salaries fixed as before the pas-
sage of the Act of March 3, 1873.
The very next day after its passage by the Sen-
ate, it reached the House. The representatives
promptly concurred in the amendment of the
Senate by a vote of 225 to 25 and on the 20th
(one week later) it was approved by the President.
And so the law-makers, after boldly marching
up the hill, deemed discretion the better part of
valor, and marched down again. Perhaps no bet-
ter instance could be given of the statement made
in a previous chapter that, "in this country, the
people are the real rulers."

(To be coninueed.)



A PLUMP little robin flew down from a tree,
To hunt for a worm, which he happened to see;
A frisky young chicken came scampering by,
And gazed at the robin with wondering eye.

Said the chick, "What a queer-looking chicken is that!
Its wings are so long and its body so fat!"
While the robin remarked, loud enough to be heard:
" Dear me an exceedingly strange-looking bird "

" Can you sing?" robin asked, and the chicken said, "No,"
But asked in his turn if the robin could crow.
So the bird sought a tree, and the chicken a wall,
And each thought the other knew nothing at all.



(A True Incident.)


'T WAS a rather small engraving of a very large hotel
That little Grace was studying so earnestly and well;
And at last she softly murmured,- this funny little mouse,-
" So that big, enormouss building is Gran'pa Cific's house "

"Who are the Cifics, anyway? Mamma, I want to know;
I 've heard so much about them I 've never seen them, though.
And it 's always Gran'ya Cific. I think there ought to be
A dear old Gran'ma Cific that.I might go and see."

(A Series of Brief Papers concerning the Great Musicians.)



OF the girls of our day, there are io!rilp- i r i
few who do not, as part of their education,/give some
study to the pianoforte; and of those so engaged,
whether loving music or not, there are few who do
not hate the drudgery of exercise and scale, and wish
that the time devoted to them might be given to
almost any other form of torture. It is so discour-
aging to play the same ancient exercise day after
day, and still seem no nearer to Chopin or Wag-
ner than six months before. You come to look
upon the piano as a deadly enemy and to dislike it
more than anything in the world unless it be those
black notes on the paper before you, unmanage-
able as so many giants. You wish for some fairy
godmother to suddenly lay a spell upon the keys
so that they should play enchanting melodies un-
der your touch; but alas one might as well wish
for the moon. There is no help for the toil; no
one ever played without it, not even Mozart or
Beethoven. But whatever one's work may be,
there is everything in the feeling which one brings
to it, and so, perhaps, you who are working at the
piano would be glad of anything that could make
practicing a little interesting and the piano your
friend. Now, would it not encourage you if you
could know that the greatest performers on the piano
worked day after day as steadily as you do in-
deed, much more steadily than you generally work ?
Would it not cheer you to hear that Mozart had

to play scales--which he afterward said should
Ru,' 1ik;: oil and that he had to go through exer-
: .i-: .1 hen he was a little boy, and that every per-
former, lu., .: i-r reat or humble, has plodded on
just as :'.u ir.. plodding now? Anyhow, it is
surely more interesting to play the music of a man
whose life you know, and who seems to you like a
friend, than that of one who is only a name to you.
In a brief glance at the lives of some of these men,
then, we shall see how they were trained to play
or compose, how they felt when they made melody,
whether they loved their art and were willing to
drudge for it! Most of the men we shall read about
were pianists, but as every one who plays should
know the men who are first in every department of
music, we shall also learn something of the genius
who is greatest in oratorio and also of him who is
supreme in opera.


One of our greatest composers, and a man who,
above all others, should be called the musicians' mu-
sician, is Johann Sebastian Bach, born at Eisenach
in 1685. We might almost say that music was born
again in Bach, so much does his art owe-to this
illustrious man. He inherited his genius, his family
for generations before him having been musical.
Indeed, to be born a Bach seemed to mean to be
born a musician. More than fifty of this family
were great in their art, but Sebastian is the one,





above all, to whom musicians have turned, and
will always turn, as one of the founders of instru-
mental music.
Little is known of Bach's childhood, which was
passed in the little Eisenach village, among a
quiet, religious people, not far from Wartburgh,

fact that his atmosphere was so favorable to its
cultivation, he did not acquire his art any too
easily. He had only begun to receive instruction
from his father on the violin when the latter died,
leaving Sebastian an orphan in his tenth year.
The child now went to live with his brother Johann


where Luther used to live. It was fortunate for the
child that he was surrounded by many who were in-
terested in music. It was in the air, and he must
constantlyhave heard it, and have fed his love for it.
Still, notwithstanding the boy's genius and the

Christoph, who was an organist at Ohrduff. He
gave Sebastian lessons in singing, and clavichord*
playing- the piano not then having been invented.
Thelittle pupil astonished hismaster by his progress,
soon knowing his exercises by heart, and begging

The clavichord was an old-fashioned stringed instrument, played with keys, something like the old-time harpsichord and spinet-all
of them direct ancestors of the modem piano.


. I


for something more difficult. For some strange
reason his brother always denied this request.
C.t :,L:, i: had a manuscript which contained the
works ofthecelebrated clavichord c -. : i that
day. .,:L L -, s 2 -:, :. ,J ,-r a, :, :r,
refused to lend him the score. Fired by his love
for music, he managed to get the manuscript from
the closet in which it was kept, and, child as he was,
he copied it all. As he was allowed no candle, he
could only write on n.. ..',.gt nights, and it was
six months before the work was finished. When
his brother found the manuscript in his possession,
he was cruel enough to take the child's precious
copy from him.
In i]r:. Chrir: -.;h died, and our young musi-
cian was thrown upon the world at fourteen, with
his own living to get. 7i1.1 .: iI :- his beautiful voice
he obtained a -:.-it,- as chorister at St. Michael's
church, Liineberg. This was a great i-i- nrir ;,.i .
for, besides his musical .: 1-' : 5. he received an edu-
cation, and also had r pp[. ci ;.. to hear the best
music. Bach felt how necessary it is for one who
desires to progress in music to hear the best masters
of his art. Just as we, who now study the piano
or -. attend pI...:.! r.;,!.. .- and symphony
concerts, so Bach never missed a chance to hear
the best performers of his day. He :......i!.
trudged long distances to neighboring cities, often
staying after his money was spent, -: in ,; home
hungry and forlorn, but with the memory of the
music haunting and inspiring him.
In 1703 he was made organist at Arnstadt.
While there he studied very J[ ..:2e: drudging
at the works of the great composers, and striving
to perfect his execution. It is said that often
during the service his musical fancies led him so
far from the score that the choir found it almost
*imp.-._:. to sing with him; still the congregation
were only too glad to have so fine an organist.
In -: he removed to Weimar, where he staid
for nine years. He had now become the first organ-
ist of the day. When playing at Dresden, on a
certain occasion, one too ambitious man ventured
to compete with him. This was a Frenchman
named ': --:h:- .. who had .:;i-'T.r-d the Dres-
den people with his playing. Marechaud was a
conceited man, and doubtless pictured in his own
mind an easy victory over his youthful rival. But
when the time for trial came only Bach appeared.
Marechaud had vanished from the city that morn-
ing. It is supposed that, having heard Bach
play, he fled to avoid a failure after his previous
Bach's improvisations on the pianoforte were
marvelous. (By improvisations or improvising we

mean composing as one plays-or, as the phrase
goes, "on the spur of the moment." The great-
est pianoforte players have excelled at improvisa-
tion.) His manner at the instrument was beauti-
fully quiet and subdued. One thought not of the
man, but of the music. There was no need for
gestures or motions of any kind; he could trust
his music to express the emotions of his soul.
It may surprise some of us to hear that before
Bach's time people fingered almost as they pleased,
seldom using the thumb or little finger at all, a
most convenient method for the performer. But
we should have found Bach a strict teacher, for
he not only refused a pupil unless he showed
musical ability, but he only took a small number,
so as to give the utmost attention to each. He in-
sisted, as the best teachers now insist, on each fin-
ger being equally trained; and the hands must be
held in such a position over the keys that each fin-
ger is ready to play. We have called him the
musicians' musician," and rightly, for he will always
be studied by real students of music. Schumann
tells young musicians to make Bach their daily
bread," and so Mozart, Beethoven, and all the mas-
ters have done. One could scarcely exhaust Bach's
if he spent a life-time in studying him. We have
no space in which to speak of his vocal compositions
except to say that he revolutionized church music,
and that his cantatas and oratorios are unsurpassed.
This great genius and simple, modest man, who
would have been received with honor by the
world, seldom traveled, and passed a quiet life at
home. Two of his rare trips he made to Halle, hop-
ing to meet Handel, but each time he missed him.
He devoted himself to his music and to the musical
education of his son, remembering perhaps his own
boyish struggles and rebuffs. His son Emanuel
inherited great musical talent, and was the first to
insist on a ** -i.-. style ofplaying. He said the
piano should sing the melody, and he set his face
S.. -. .!i c: '. ir.: and drumming. Bach manu-
factured and tuned his own instruments besides
copying his own and other musical works. At last
his eyes gave out under the long strain put upon
them, and two years before his death, like the great
Handel, he became totally blind. He died July 28,
1750, and was buried without a stone to mark his
grave. Forty years afterward he was f_-r :-. r-: -. and
half his almost matchless compositions were lost.
He was too great for his time, and not till the end
.i 6..: -i. rl century, and then chiefly through
the effort of Mendelssohn, were the great master's
works brought before the public. Now every one
who knows anything of music knows Bach's im-
portance in the history of his art.






THE Eskimo children have but few toys, and
these are only of the rudest kind. Yet it is sur-
prising to see the amount of enjoyment they get
from these trifling affairs, so easily are they amused.

of reindeer sinew about six inches long. The ivory
or wooden pin is about as long as the forefinger,
and its smaller end is sharpened to about the size
of a knitting-needle. One end of the ivory "cup-
ball is bored as full of holes as possible, and the
object of the game is simply to impale the "cup-

> One of ball" on the pin by thrusting the latter in one of
the most the holes. This is done, as shown in the illustra-
S common tion, by swinging the "cup-ball" backward and
A toys that forward once or twice and then bringing it around
I found with a gentle sweep, the end containing the holes
S in u s e being turned toward the pin.
among Simple as this little toy is, it requires consider-
them was able dexterity and skill to make the run of a number
c a 1 e d of successful points, which is often accomplished
--- noo-glook- by a little Eskimo. Sometimes he will swing it
FIG. i.-THE PIN AND CUP-BALL. tookornoo- completely around two or three times, alternating
glook-takk, or, as it might be called in our lan- on different sides of the hand, and an expert player
guage, "Pin and Cup-ball." In Fig. I is seen will in this manner swing it so rapidly that it
an end and side view of the toy. It consists of two looks like a revolving buzz-saw, and will then, with
pieces, generally of walrus ivory, united by a string a sharp crack, impale it on the pin. I remember
VOL. XII.-30. *Copyright, by Frederick Schwatka, 1885.



that I tried it once, and brought the h.-. :, ..-. .- .iii
so sharply against the end of my thumb-nail that
it stung for half an hour after. The most expert,
however, will always succeed in sticking it on the
pin, or in catching it on the pin's point between
the holes, so that the ball will bounce back. A
number of holes are also cut obliquely in the sides
of the ball, as shown in Fr '. i, so that
i'" it dies sidewise it may be caught by
i .-. in through one of these; and, in
Snfact, those who desire to show
S unusual skill try to impale the
ball on one of these side holes.
Should they fail in this en-
deavor, the thumb-nail or
nG. 2.--A USK-OX cUr. .,IniTb-J. rir. usually gets a
whack that makes the player
squirm for some time; but, with that indifference
to b.:didy pain so characteristic of savages, they
go right on with their play, r .'.:.i n t i. Lr :, the
hurt. In a i 1 = of half a dozen families, you
will nearly always see a group of little children,
ep-:i il:. the girls, t-iv'ai:r_, away at this game.
As soon as one misses they pass it on to the next,
the number of successful catches showing who is
victor for that particular round.
Another chddis-,h amusement is to take one of
the musk-ox cups, shown in Fig. 2, and, ,; :..- i[
filling it with soup or stew, whirl it around on a
board or flat rock in the center of a group col-
lected to play the game; the person to whom
the handle of the cup points when it has stopped
turning is the victor, and can appropriate the con-
tents of the cup. This game is not so much
played by the children as by the old women of
the tribe, and I am sorry to say that this simple
game is often used by tl. :-r.', as a means of gam-
bling. When the person to whom the handle has
pointed has taken out the article placed in the cup
(or alongside it, if it be too large), some other
article must be placed in it or 1i. i..',- :. it, and a
brisk twirl is then given it that sends it spinning
around again for four or five times before it settles
to a rest and the handle designates the new victor.
I have said this is a kind of ."I '...-.., because the
lucky one often puts in the musk-ox horn cup
thin much more valuable than are taken out,
the only idea of value among the Eskimo being
the present necessity for an article. A needle
that is wanted for use ,:. .-....-:.. .-is more valu-
able in their eyes than the horn cup which holds
it, ..'..t-1... 1 it may have taken them a month to
make e the cup.
The making of these curious cups of musk-ox
horn is worth relating. If my readers will look in
some wel-illustrated book on natural history, iJ.
will see that the horn of a musk-ox, as it ap-

I: r, -.,-: .- his head, commences to flatten out in a
wide plate that is crimpled at the edges. The
Eskimo take this widened base of the musk-oxen's
horn, boil it in their kettles, and then scrape it with
knives to get it to the proper thickness, after which
it is bent in the shape seen in Fi... 2, and is then
left to dry. Little toy ones are often made for the
babies to play with, but most of them are large
and hold from a pint to a couple of *-n.rt- The
little girls often play with the im-moo-sik, as .T -;
call this cup, the victor's winnings being a little bit
of soup poured into the cup.
Another game, also called noo-glook-took, is
played by the men and boys. A piece of walrus
ivory, about as long as the i r*n.: :n al .i probably
a little larger in diameter, is pierced near the mid-
dle with holes running entirely through, and as
'th .:. p'!- :-. as can be without cutting it in two.
T '1.:.:i-i each extremity is passed a stout sinew
string, one end of which holds it fast to the roof of
the igloo, or tent, while the other is tied to some
heavy object, as a walrus's skull or a stone, which
acts as a weight and keeps both strings taut.
Some member of the playing party then puts
up -i:.i :rl-;nr as a prize-a pair of walrus's tusks,
or, perhaps, a reindeer coat. The players, who
stand in a circle around the p.: r:rxi.-d ivory .::.;n-
der, arm themselves with long, sharpened sticks,
with points small :-no.7 h to enter the holes (such
as seal-spears with the barbs c:c..,--.. or iron
ramrods), and are then ready to commence; and
as the prize-giver gives a sudden shout of Yi!
Yi 1" they all begin jabbing at the holes. Finally,
some .. .: fellow succeeds in r :u-'in.t the point
of his stick, spear, or ramrod I.,:'.;-i one of the
holes, when he loudly shouts Yi Yi! and
pushes the 1: .r,9d,! aside to show that he is win-
ner, and the jabbing ceases. The victor now puts
up some new prize,-a musk-ox robe, or a sledge
dog, or a sealskin line,-and the game goes on as
usual until all are ready to stop. This is a favor-
ite game during the long winter evenings when food
is ,! 1 r ,f,. 1 and -r 1... is merry.
:-1.- of the little Eskimo ir have dolls,
dressed very much like -I.:.- l .l,:. and made en-
tirely by their own hands. The face is of tanned
sealskin, about as black as their own, two round
beads being sewed in for eyes and a :.i-1. if long
ones for nose and mouth. The rest of the doll is
clothed in reindeer skin, the same as is its little
mistress when she is out in the winter's cold. The
little Eskimo girls do not seem to take as kindly to
their dolls or to derive as much amusement from
their assumed care and trouble with them as do
our little girls of the temperate zone. They seem
to p-. -:-- other and rougher enjoyments.
1 give here a picture of a I&. .. which was given





me by a little Eskimo girl, in return for a present
that I had made her, as is the usual Eskimo cus-
tom; and I think my little girl readers, when they
see its hideous countenance, with its glistening bead
eyes and straight bead nose, and especially the
fierce grimace of its straight bead mouth, will cease
to wonder why their Eskimo sisters do not grow
enthusiastic over their dolls. In fact, I can readily

Eskimo; and most of their amusements, as I have
said, are confined to their simple games. If you
should wish to make a toy sledge, you, of course,
would need to have some wood to build it from.
In my first article, I told you of the scarcity of
wood among the Eskimo, and what funny notions
some of them have about timber growing on the
bottom of the sea and the drifting ice break-

,- --. -. -

2-.j <- - "' iairlc L
most of you will
S"that you don't see how
S the world they can like them at
,- :The face of the doll's hood is trimmed w
black fur, taken from the back of the reinde
The rest of the dress, except a little trimm
around the bottom of the coat, is made of white r
deer-fur, taken from the flanks of the animal.
belt is of black sealskin, secured by a br:
headed tack, and the gloves of dark-colored ri
deer-fur. The stockings are made from the
glossy fur taken from the legs of a young reindi
and many of these show very creditable ornam
station, considering the limited display of co.
to be found on a single reindeer skin. Over
feet are drawn sealskin leather slippers, secu
fastened by a puckering string, drawn tight
tied. These prevent the water from getting
the reindeer stockings, the fur of which we
be spoiled by the moisture. Except for its hi
ous face, the Eskimo doll, queer as it looks
you, is generally a very good miniature repress
station of the Eskimo girl.
The number of toys that represent articles
daily use, and which are so common among
such as toy wagons, toy sleds, toy railroad train
and a hundred others, are very limited among

-L. .. .. r, [ '. .r [ E: :

hat a, it off. \Vell, zince wood is ou ucaice that all
say they can get must be utilized to make their real
in sleds, harpoon -iid-spear shafts, etc., leaving none
all. or very little to-- made into toy representations
rith of these things, little Boreas looks elsewhere for
eer. material for his
ing coasting sled;
ein- and he makes
The it of-what do
ass- you think?-
ein- theveryfunniest
flat material imag-
eer, inable -- ure .
len- ice cut from the '$
lors nearest lake or -
the river.
rely If the sleds '
and of ice, judging'
Sat from the one in
iuld the illustration, "
de- seem rather
Sto bulky, they are -
;en- much stronger
than you would AN ESKIMO DOLI
of imagine,andthe
us, boys can coast downhill without breaking them, pro-
ins, vided the changes in the slope are gradual and there
the are no stones or ice-hummocks protruding through



the snow. Even the grown people occasionally use
these primitive sledges when dragging their effects
over the smooth salt-water ice near the shore
line of the sea. The snow-knife, which I repre-
sented among the tools that are used to build the
igloo, or native snow house, is the implement
employed to cut or chip out the ice-sledge.
There is one advantage to be found in this kind
of a sledge that partially compensates for its


great weight: the bottoms of the sledge-runners
are always perfectly smooth and slippery, being of
pure ice; and when the sledge party is on hard
and level snow, but little pulling is required--
much less, in fact, than one would think--to
make rapid progress with such a bulky and cum-
bersome vehicle.
So much easier will a sledge pull when it has
runners of ice, that, in the Eskimo country, the
ordinary wooden sledges always have the bottoms
of their runners iced before they start on a day's
sledge journey. First, the sledge runner is shod
with a strip of bone cut from the lower jaw of a
whale into a long, thin piece, like a batten, or
small board, and a trifle wider than the runner.
This is made fast to the runner by thin thongs of
whalebone. The sledge is thrown on its back, the
slats being down, and the native sledgeman prepares
the runners for the journey, by carefully icing them.
He has a small bucket or musk-ox ladle full of
water, and, picking up a piece of snow about as big
as his fist, he dips it in the water to render it
soft and slushy, and then presses the slushy mass
over the bone shoe of the runner with the open
palm of the hand until it is completely covered
around and along the whole length of both run-
ners. The open hand is kept working backward
and forward over two or three feet of the run-
ner's length, smoothing and leveling this opaque
mass until it is frozen hard (a process which gen-
erally takes only about half a minute in cold
weather); then the operation is renewed farther on
along the runner. The slushy snow being com-

pletely frozen, the next operation is to put on the
ice itself. This is done by the sledgeman taking
a big mouthful of water and, while he works the
palm of his hand backward and forward very rap-
idly, slowly spurting the water over the frozen,
slushy snow; this distributes the water evenly and
smoothly, and the watery spray freezes almost as
soon as it strikes the cold runner. Thus iced, it is
really wonderful how much easier the sledge will
run than when it is not so treated.
My largest sledge was so heavy,
even when unloaded, that I could
hardly turn it over sidewise; yet,
when Toolooah, my sledgeman, had
S'- carefully iced it, I could with one
hand take this ponderous affair,
< weighing nearly half a ton, and slide
it backward and forward a distance
of two or three feet without any un-
usual effort. If Toolooah iced the
Sledge on the side of a hill, and,
Sthoughtlessly turning it over, al-
lowed it to point downhill, away
it would go like a frightened horse,
unless it was stopped.
Our worst luck would be to have some half-
hidden stone tear the ice from one of the runners,
when it would drag as if a treble-sized load had been
added. But whether little Boreas's sled be made
of ice or wood, he is nearly as fond of a sled-ride
as the little boys in better climates, and probably
would be found as often in the week enjoying one,
if his winter time were as short; but as his winter
is three or four times as long as ours, he grows
tired of the sport, in time.
Most of the sled-rides of our boys are on some of
the nice sloping side-hills, while nearly all of those
of little Boreas are behind well-trained dogs, which
carry him along as fast as a pair of good horses.
They go coasting" quite often, however, if they
can find a good hill for the purpose, which they
can not always find, because most of the tops and
ridges of the hills in their country are kept clear
of the snow by the terrible gales of wind that they
have so often.
One sport that amuses the Eskimo boys very
much would probably be called in our language
"reindeer hunting." Having found a long and
gentle slope on a side-hill, they place along the
bottom of the hill a number of reindeer antlers,
or, as we sometimes incorrectly call them, deer-
horns (for you boys must not forget that the antlers
of a deer are not horn at all, but bone). These
antlers of the reindeer are stuck upright in the
snow, singly or in groups, in such a manner that
a sled, when well guided, can be run between them
without knocking any of them down, the number



of open spaces between the groups being equal to
at least the number of sleds. The quantity of rein-
deer antlers they can thus arrange will, of course, de-
pend upon their fathers' success the autumn before
in reindeer hunting; but there are nearly always
enough antlers to give two or three, and some-
times five or six, to each fearless young coaster.


You can see that, in such a case, the slower they
go when they are passing the antlers the better.
They must knock over the antlers with their spears
or arrows only, as those thrown down by the
sledge or with the bow or spear in the hand do
not count. They begin to shoot their arrows
and throw their spears as soon as they can get
within effective shooting distance; and, even after
th.:-, 1-i .: Fpa.-i c:I bet.i-.:r n thi r.- i. ..r :intlli! the
0,,_! ._ i-r '. :- ill turn .u r ,rn.j c.r. cl i l1',I in:-
:l-.1 :irid ii-,u l br:, ; -i :.'p ar .:.r arr.:. T1 d .iiltli.: r,
I'. .: ,:, Ii ci.r i 1 ii,-, .. -I .ii-, l -I.

_pli:.:-.: r ,li.m i r a Flr bi, thc .ii. :.-. Tic-ri t[i:,.ie
a.,:: ,,l.-n-ari ll .:n. I>:l;> ] ,,.J er -Li,, rl-i, l' :d 'I : _: :- ,: _-t:* rin
lijr r.i and l; 1 ., r,:tirn I':,r din': li r 'i:h d.... ,ii
lh,. I.[l, u rn i Ili ll-,- anri r:" h:t' b:.f "" -p ::ic i:.j."



The boys with their sleds, numbering from four
to six in a fair-sized village, gather on the top of
the hill, each boy having with him two or three
spears, or a bow with as many arrows. They
start together, each boy's object being to knock
down as many antlers as possible and not be
the first to reach the bottom of the hill.


Sometimes there is but one antler left, and when
there are five or six contesting sleds the race
becomes very exciting, for then speed counts in
reaching the antler first. When all are down, the
boys count their winnings, and the victor is, of
course, the one who has obtained the greatest
number of antlers.

(To be continued.)




HERE comes April, laughing brightly!
Bless me! No. She 's weeping slightly; -
Now, she laughs! Can I be dreaming?
See, with tears her face is streaming!
Dry your eyes, dear April, do; -
Happy eyes so bright and blue !-
Pretty April, does it strike you,
That the children are just like you?

"THE ants here," a young Sandwich Islander
writes me from Kohala, Hawaii, "kill flies by
clinging to them, as was mentioned in a recent
number of ST. NICHOLAS. One day, noticing a
row of ants drinking at some water spilled on a
marble slab, I watched them. They would drink
from five to ten minutes, and gradually their bodies
would swell until they were at least twice the usual
size, and a good-sized drop of water showed plainly
when they were between me and the light. Often
one would start to go away, but return and take a
little more."
Why did they take so much ?" he asks. "Are
they like camels, and can they drink water enough
at one time to last them several days, or do they,
in some way, feed it to their grubs?"
Who knows?
THE lady-apples have been heard from. Grace
J. G., of Portchester, N. Y., sends word that
every autumn Jack Frost shakes down large
quantities of the lovely fruit from a lady-apple
tree on her father's lawn; and Lizzie M. D., a lit-
tle Jersey girl, says that no tree but a lady-apple
tree can bear lady-apples," and the little beauties
are never found growing on the same trees with
ordinary apples.

E. R. B., whose uncle in the town of Fall River,
Mass., has a number, of lady-apple trees, says
"they grow just like any other apple, only they
are so pretty "
Another little girl, who lives in Morrow, Ohio,
writes that, like the Little School-ma'am, she has
some lady-apples growing, and has gathered them.
" We have five large trees in our garden," she adds,
" that my grandpapa planted for my mamma, a
long time ago, and they bear a great many apples.
If any of your little readers will send me ten cents
in stamps, I will send them some cuttings off of
the trees. I will send you a few apples, dear
Jack. Please be sure to taste them, that you may
see how good they are."
You will be glad to know, my chicks, that the
lady-apples came safely, and were much enjoyed
by the Deacon, the Little School-ma'am, and by
" Jack himself," though few of my family indulge
in such luxuries.

ITHACA, N. Y., December 30, 1884.
"I WANT to tell you, dear Jack," writes a young
girl, something interesting about squirrels. A
boy went out shooting, and, seeing a squirrel in a
tree, shot at it and killed it. It stuck in one of the
branches, and he climbed up the tree to get it.
He heard a queer noise in a hole in the tree. He
looked in and found two baby squirrels, which he
took home. He had a pet cat, and she seemed to
take a great fancy to the squirrels. She let them
go in the same basket with her kittens, and it was
a funny sight to see her wash their faces. They
soon learned to love her, and played like kittens,
and would run after a string, or chase a ball. One
of them was given to me, and I never had a more
knowing or interesting pet. The lively little fel-
low ran all about my room; and every night he
went to sleep in a leather bag which hung in my
closet. But as he grew older he began to get
destructive, and finally I was obliged to let him
go. Once, as I was walking in the woods, I heard
a chattering above my head. I looked up, and
there was Bunny. I called him by name, and he
came down, sat on my shoulder a minute, and
then was gone. I have never seen him since. I
live in Ithaca, on Cayuga Lake. It is a beautiful
place, and I would not like to go back to the city.
Your constant reader,
Give my love to the Little School-ma'am."

THE letter here shown you must tell its own story,
my friends. If any of you can throw any outside
light on this remarkable frog, or offer any other
explanation than that given by Mr. Carlyle, I shall
be pleased.
The fact is, I never saw an illuminated frog my-
self, nor do I well understand how Mr. Fire-fly
managed to light up his enemy, so to speak, from
the interior. Still, a frog's skin is very thin and



885s.] JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 471

transparent; and, as the Deacon says, strange things
do happen. Our dear Little School-ma'am has the
real name and address of the writer, who vouches
for the truth of his narrative.

DEAR CHILDREN: What is an illuminated frog ? I think I hear
you and our good friend Jack-in-the-Pulpit ask.
Now, an illuminated house is a house that has lights in all the win-
dows; and when all the houses in a large city are thus illuminated,

Southern States call them, lightning-bugs. While I was engaged
in such a chase one evening, a littlefellow suddenly flashed his tiny
dark-lantern almost in my face, and the stroke which I made with
my cap in his direction resulted in bringing him to the ground in
front of a large frog that was sitting quietly waiting for whatever
might come along for his supper.
The fire-fly apparently and unfortunately struck a light on the
gravel of the walk to see what he had fallen upon. The old toad nod-
ded his head quickly toward him, as if to say, "Good-even-
ing "- and the little fly disappeared on the instant. At the same
time, the toad straightened himself up and puffed out his white vest,

_ -, 7z :._


as sometimes happens on great public occasions, it is a grand spec-
tacle indeed. No boy or girl who has ever seen such a sight is likely
to forget it; and so I never shall forget seeing an illuminated frog
when I was a little boy, although the occasion was so strictly private
that no one saw it but myself. In all my life I have never heard
or read of any one else having witnessed a like exhibition.
It happened a great many years ago, away down in the South,
where frogs are so numerous that you can count dozens of them
hopping about the garden-walks, in the twilight, at any time
after a recent summer rain has enticed them from their holes. At
such times, in warm climates, the air is filled with insects of many
kinds, and, the frogs scramble out from their queer little houses, not
for the purpose of enjoying the scenery, or the exercise they get in
their sudden and vigorous journeys from one spot to another, but
to hunt the insects which form their favorite food.
I was very fond of catching fire-flies, or, as the children of the

as much as to say, "Do you think I would swallow such a thing as
a fly, or a streak of lightning, or anything of that sort? and in
the self-same instant I saw- an illuminated frog !
The frog had swallowed the fire-fly, for all his innocent looks to
the contrary; and the poor little victim, finding himself suddenly
transferred into such a new and dark and close place, had flashed
his ever-ready lantern to discover what manner of living prison he
had fallen into The flash was produced only tw:ce while I was
looking on in wonder and amazement, and at each such flash I saw
in the darkness the strange spectacle of a luminous frog, with every
line on his queerly marked hide brought out into plain and bright
With the second flash the light of the little prisoner went out, the
toad hopped into the grass, and I hastened into the house to tell
the assembled family of my first discovery in natural history.



DEAR lit-
tie boys and
girls about as
old as I am, gon tbs
--(I am nine
teen ; but it
is months),-
I want to tell
you about a
little game I '
can play with -
my Papa.
Papa holds
out his arms
as if he were going to take me; but his hands are clasped tight shut,
so I can not run in. Then he says, "Come into your little house !" Then
I say, "All locked up! Then
Papa says, "Knock on the
door!" Then I knock on
his fingers. Then he
opens his arms and
says, "Come in."
Then I run in,
and he hugs
me up tight,
and gives me :f
a kiss.
Then I say,
Knock out!"
and I turn
around and
knock on the ,
door again. I
Thenhe opens
.his arms and




so I run out. Then Papa says: "Shut
the door after you !" Then I take
one of his hands in my left hand,
and one of his
hands in my .'-z)> -
right hand, -/ /
and shut them
up tight. Then
he always has
one of his
thumbs stand-
ing straight
up; and he
says, "Lock
the door!"
Then I take
the thumb that
is standing up, and tuck it down in his hand. I like to come into
my little house. Any little boy can play this game with his Papa.
'Feck-shuntly, Hy.
HY is my little name. My other name is Hahdy Bahdy; and my
big name is Hah-lin-H-Bah-lid-Ju-ner-Mas-sa-too-sitts.



THE prizes offered on page 68 of the November number of ST. NICHOLAS, for a story for girls written by a
girl, have been awarded by the Committee, as follows:

FIRST PRIZE.-Forty Dollars to the story entitled Myself, or Another ? "
Written by: Marion Satterlee, New York City.

SECOND PRIZE.- Twenty Dollars-to the story entitled "Helen's Prize Dinner."
Written by: Anna McClure Sholl, New Brunswick, N. J.

THIRD PRIZE.- Fifteen Dollars to the story entitled Nothing but a Girl."
Written by: Sallie Whittier Hovey, Portsmouth, N. H.

FOURTH PRIZE.- Ten Dollars to the story entitled "What a Little Bird Told Me."
Written by: Helen V. Pierce, Albany, N. Y.

FIFTH, SIXTH, AND SEVENTH PRIZES.- Five Dollars each to the stories entitled "Mrs. Lafferty's Discovery,"
"The Mysterious Wardrobe," and Marjorie's Ball."
Written (respectively) by: Carrie C. Peddle, Terre Haute, Indiana; Clara Belle Cahill, Lansing,
Michigan; Mamie Magovern, Brooklyn, N. Y.

The Committee desires to state that the stories entitled What Susub Found," How She Was Cured," Nell's
Decision," Kate's Discipline," The Queen of the School," and Bridget" are deserving of especial notice and
praise, though under all the conditions of the competition they did not win prizes. And if space permitted, the
Committee would be glad also to add a list of forty or fifty stories which came next to those named above in order
of merit, and were well worthy of commendation as the efforts of young writers.
The Committee, in the name of the magazine, sincerely thanks the hundreds of young friends who so promptly
and heartily entered into the spirit of ST. NICHOLAS'S effort to obtain a good short story for girls written by a girl.
The stories which won the first and second prizes are to be printed in the next two numbers of ST. NICHOLAS.


IN connection with the story of Zenobia," which appears in this
number, due credit for certain information, hitherto unrecorded and
first used in this paper, should be given to Dr. Robertson Smith's
article on "Palmyra," in the new Vol. XVIII. of the Encyclofedia
Britannica, advanced sheets of which were kindly placed at the
service of the author of "Historic Girls," by the Messrs. Black of
Edinburgh, and Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons of New York.
Old Palmyrean coins, containing the heads of Odanathus and
Aurelian, Odaenathus and Zenobia, and Zenobia and her son, the
boy-emperor Wahballath, are still to be found in some of the coin
collections of to-day, though very rare. Has any boy or girl reader
of ST. NICHOLAS ever seen one of them ?
Rev. William Ware's story of "Zenobia" will be found very
interesting by the older ST. NICHOLAS readers, although recent
discoveries have materially changed some of the data on which his
story is based.

Miss HUNTINGTON has just issued a new edition of her Kitchen-
Garden Book," at a reduced price. It contains some new songs
and games. Our readers will doubtless remember the article on
Miss Huntington's Kitchen-Garden School, which appeared in the
number for April, x879, and also another paper entitled Frliulein
Mina Smidt goes to School," which was printed in the number for
September, 1884.

A FRIENDLY correspondent has sent us the following verses,
inscribed to the little Infanta Marguerita, whose portrait, copied
from Velasquez's painting, it will be remembered, formed the frontis-
piece of our December number:


DEAR little maid of two centuries past,
As we look to-day on your sunny face,
We thank you for standing stately and prim,
Dressed in your satin gown, velvets, and lace.

Marguerita, Princess Infanta of Spain,
With pretty round cheeks so rosy and fair,
Did you long to run in the fields and play?
Did your little feet weary of standing there?

Of what were you thinking, dear little maid?
Did you watch your face on the canvas grow,
While ladies amused you with stories quaint
Or played on the mandolin soft and low ?

There's a happy look in your bright black eyes
As you stand so sweetly before us here,
Coming from out of the great long-ago,
To bring us a greeting on our New Year.





DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Many children like to read about cats,
and perhaps they would like to hear about my cat, whose name is
Barkis. He is now nearly seven years old. The Old Colony Rail-
road passes at the foot of our garden. One day in the summer-
time, when Barkis was about a year old, we saw from our back door
a cat all covered with mud, crawling along by the side of the rail-
road track. It looked so pitiful and in such an awful condition that
we went out and brought it into the house. At first we could not
believe that it was Barkis, he was in such a terrible condition; all
covered with mud and dirt Oh, how we pitied the poor kitty!
We washed him and made a nice soft bed for him; and folks said,
" Oh, get some one to shoot him We could n't bear to do that,
so we took the best of care of him, and, strange to tell, he got well
again, and is now not lame at all; but he could never after sing or
purr. We suppose he was on the track when the train came
along, and was struck by the "cow-catcher" and thrown into
the air, coming down into a mud puddle. If he could talk he
would probably have had quite a story to tell of his adventures that
day. I will tell you how he came to get the strange name he goes
by. When he was quite young we taught him to roll over and then
stand up on his hind feet.whenever we said to him, "If you want a
piece of meat, roll over." We would never deceive him, and he is
always willing. Father was always a great lover of Dickens' writ-
ings, and one day when he saw kitty minding so readily, he said,
"'Barkis is willing, call him Barkis." We all laughed, and ever
after called him by that name. Your friend and reader, L.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you for eleven years,
but I have never written to you before.
I have a pair of skates, and I can skate a little. I have three card
albums, and I like to arrange the cards in them. I got nineteen new
cards for Christmas. I enjoy reading you very much indeed. I
like Frank Stockton's stories about the best of any. I am thirteen
years old. Your friend, BETTIE B.
PEKING, CHINA, Nov. 30, 1884.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you ever since I was two
years old, and now I am almost seven, but I have never written to
you before. I like to read the letters the little children write you,
because I have no brothers or sisters of my own, and I get lonely
sometimes, and like to hear what other children are doing. I have
never had as many pets as they all have, because I have gone about
too much to keep them, but I have three birds now: two of them are
brown, with white spots like snow-flakes all over them, and red bills.
They sit close together, and love each other all day. All the Chi-
nese children walk about the streets carrying birds on sticks; they
are so tame they would not fly away. They have tame crickets in
cages, too, that sing, and they put whistles on the pigeons' tails that
make a sad moan when they fly; they think it sounds pretty, and
then it keeps the hawks from them. They use the pigeons for mes-
senger boys, and tie letters around their necks. The men here
carry hawks on their shoulders, and when they fly off, they call, and
they come back. The streets are very dirty and full of holes, so the
foreigners here used to walk on the city wall; now they wont let
them, so we go about either in carts without springs, or in chairs
carried by coolies. I think I ought to know something about geog-
raphy by this time. I was born in Maryland, and we lived three
years in New Mexico and Colorado, then three years in Europe,
and last summer we left Switzerland for China, coming by America,
and we were three months traveling. I hope my letter is not too long.
A certain old body is writing for me.
Your loving little friend, DOLLIE ROCKHILL.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Will some of the little folks who read your
"Letter-box try to make out lists of words having the same termina-
tion ? How long a list can they make of words ending in ing, ess, en,
gs, etc.? How long a list of words ending in ion ? To give an illus-
tration:-The Reed cousins had their occasional family gatherings,
and at these reunions papers previously prepared by some of the
cousins were collected into what they called The Miscellany," and
read for the amusement or improvement of all. At one of these meet-
tugs the following paper was read, prepared by Mary McCord, of
Wassaic, Dutchess County, New York, who died July S8, 1883. It
is here given as a sort of verbal curiosity :
THE Miscellany, friends, has a vast circulation,
Though only a semi-occasional publication.
This, of course, is a great aggravation
To all of literary reputation.

However, we hope, with its solid foundation,
With an editor of so much education,
And correspondents of every station,
We 'll soon be spread over all creation.
For it's a magazine of wondrous diction:
It contains in its columns both truth and fiction.
Wit and wisdom are there. Without exaggeration,
You '11 find it brilliant beyond imagination.
My esteem for The Miscellany 'tis proper here to mention,
And also for a moment to invite your kind attention
To a fact that's quite important if viewed in this connection,
And which rightly may tax your most earnest reflection.
As I was standing wrapt in meditation,
Upon a subject of some consideration,
The Editor stepped up with great deliberation,
And made this astounding proclamation.
Said he: "I came to make the proposition
That you would better, in addition
To your former miscellaneous production,
Write still another for our instruction.
For on .Thanksgiving Eve,-'t is a family invention,-
To assemble the cousins is our intention.
The Miscellany, then, of high commendation,
Must be read in their hearing for their edification.
To give us something,.then, you must form a resolution;
So we '11 look to you for a contribution.
To puns or conundrums we have no objection;
As to poetry-we 'd like a bit in that direction."
Now, this was the very first information
That I had received of a determination
On the part of the Editor -with some reservation -
To collect together his beloved relation.
True, among the Reeds for a generation
It has been a custom of great veneration
To meet together for joy and exultation
On this great day of feasting and libation.
But now there is such a multiplication
Of uncles, aunts, and cousins without limitation,
That of late there seems to be no inclination
On the part of many for its perpetuation.
So, although by this unexpected declaration
He rather aroused my consternation,
Yet I attempted, without procrastination,
To get up something for their information.
Now, I really had the expectation
That writing would be a mere recreation;
But I 'm obliged to say, on retrospection,
That that idea doth need correction.
For, after a deal of cogitation,
There seemed to my thoughts no concentration.
I began to be in mighty frustration!
Why, it almost stopped my respiration !
Then I rushed to my room to make preparation;
I rocked to and fro in great agitation;
I seized my pen with some exasperation
And tried to arouse my imagination.
I thought of every land and nation,
And tried to write about civilization.
I looked in vain and with lamentation
To find a fit subject for contemplation!
How I deplored my inanition,
And lack of skill at composition !
I groaned aloud in desperation,
I thought of politics and legislation,
Of tariff laws and of inflation,
Of science, too, and conservation.
But to my troubles came no cessation,
Nor any theme worth commendation!
And there I continued in uneasy position--
Can you imagine my sad condition?
But all for naught. 'T is my solemn conviction,
To the flow of ideas there 's wondrous restriction.
My brain was blank-without habitation;
Not a thought was there, to my indignation;
I waited and waited for inspiration,
But it would not come at my invitation.
So, at last, with the utmost resignation,
I gave it up as a plague and vexation,
For by this .time I was in great tribulation,
And my brain in the greatest fermentation.
And, oh! my dear friends, have some commiseration
For the feelings of one in this situation.
'T is so dreadful to find, on examination,
That you can't say a thing to create a sensation.
I 've tried to give you a brief presentation




Of my trials in composing this concatenation;
But pray excuse me if you 've any realization
Of the difficulty I 've had in its compilation.
If you see in these lines too much repetition,
I confess to a failure of my ambition.
But learn from this the application,
Not to write lines with the same termination.
Now, I know you 'll decide, without hesitation,
That writing is not my forte or vocation;
But let me tell you, as'my only justification,
For the lack of ideas there is no compensation.
NOTE.-There are roo lines in the above, every line ending in
tion, and no word is repeated. Yours truly, W. H.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl nine years old; I live on
a ranch, and I can see the light-house from here. We are only
about three miles from the beach. There is a small island about
half a mile from the shore, and there is a fog-horn on it, which
whistles every time it is foggy. I am learning to read music by
note. My brother and cousin are getting a collection of birds'
eggs and butterflies. I like ST. NICHOLAs very much indeed.

LONDON, ENGLAND, December, 1884.
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I always look forward to the end of
every month, when Papabrings you. A little time ago I played the
Cuckoo in a toy symphony. We had great fun, and were twelve
children, altogether. I have several little friends who take you, and
like you quite as much as I do myself. Your constant little reader,
M. L.

SCRANTON, PA., Dec., '84.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for four years, and I
think you are the best of all magazines. In one of the St. NICHO-
LASES there was a receipt in the Letter-box that a little girl wrote; it
was how to make a vase with a tumbler with salt and water. I
tried it, and it was quite a success. I suppose some of your other
boys and girls read ST. NICHOLAS, and I hope they will try it. I
am ten years old. Your faithful reader, CLARE.

WE acknowledge with thanks the receipt of interesting letters from
the young friends whose names are given herewith: G. M. M.,
Josephine Battey, Elma Dame, Alice V. Cary, Edward S. Sears,
L. M. Holly, Josie, Mary L. Steinfort, W. S., EmmaTaylor, Bessie
E. Simpson, Birdie E. S. S., Julian W. Cheners, Elden Shaw, Edie
W. Longfellow, M. Carrie Rives, Ned Selkregg, A. M. Sanborn,
Benjie N. Butcher, Emma H., Ada H., Susie F., I. H. F., R.
Earle Olwine, Fannie L. Morey, Maud Guild, Hattie Figley, James
Woolfenden, Horty O. M., H. A. G., M. G. & A. V., Carrie
Barney, Joe Howells, Jr., A Royal Mosnat, Arthur S., Bianca
Noa, Lib, Frank G. Mellen, Minnie Anderson, R. E. H., J. C. T.,
Bertie J. Brush, May E. R., Claribel, P. J. G., Nellie L. B. Hill,
Mary Armstrong, Eddie St. John, Graham Shaw, Ethel B. Sterne,
May, Alice Burr, Emmie B. Taylor, Margaret S. L., Adele, L.
Maude Westphal, Wager Fisher, Alan W. R., Vincent J. Walsh,
Grace M. Searles, Mabel Bosworth, Charley Parsons, W. G. R.,
J. T. Wagner, Louise G. B., E. M. Gillingham, S. V., S. R. &
M. D. S., Jessica, Mattie P. Williams, John Gird, Caroline


THE following letters, in response to our request that some Chem-
ist would volunteer his aid to members of the "A. A.," bring us
fresh gratitude and hope.
13 BROAD ST., BOSTON, MASS., Jan. 26, 1885.
Dear Sir: In answer to your question, "Can we have a Chemist?"
I will reply, Yes; I will be happy to assist you in any way in my
power and to answer, as best I can, any questions that the members
may wish to ask, provided they have not a commercial bearing; so
long as the questions are strictly scientific, I will answer them with
I have taken much interest in the Association from the start. Pro-
fessor Agassiz was one of my teachers.
S. P. SHARPLES (State Assayer).

Dear Sir: In the last report of the Agassiz Association, I find a
request for a chemist. Ifrnyservices will be of any use to you, you
are welcome to them, for the work of the Association, in the success
of which I am much interested. Yours truly,
WM. H. SEAMAN, M. D., etc.
(For ten years Professor of Chemistry at Harvard University Medical

Dear Sir: If I can render any service to the beginners in chem-
istry of the Agassiz Association in helping them over the difficulties
they may meet, I gladly volunteer it. In making this tender, I am
far from asserting my ability to answer any question I may be asked,
neither would I wish to render what may be styled strictly profes-
sional assistance.
But if any student of your Association who desires assistance in
his amateur studies in chemistry will write me a note stating his
difficulties and inclosing a stamp for reply, he shall receive what at-
tention I may be able to give. Yours very truly, C. J. LmcotLN.

WASHINGTON, D. C., January 28, r885.
My Dear Sir: In the ST. NICHOLAS for February I see a desire
expressed on the part of the Agassiz Association for a "Chemist,"
and I shall be happy to serve the members of the Association in such

capacity, in case you shall not have already secured the service of
another. I have for years past been actively engaged in interesting
my young friends in such matters, and shall be glad of the larger
opportunity which this organization of young naturalists offers.
Sincerely yours, PETER COLLIER.

308.WALNUT STREET, CHICAGO, ILL., January 29, 1885.
DearSir: In the.February ST. NICHOLAS the inquiry was made
for a chemist, to whom puzzling questions might be referred.
I will volunteer my services, and will devote what time I can to
the work. Yours, etc., A. J. SHERMAN.

Dear Sir: If any of the members of the Agassiz Association desire
to consult me upon questions pertaining to physics or chemistry, I
shall be glad to aid them. Of course, many of the boys and girls
may ask questions that I can not answer fully, but then I can
always give the scientists' answer, I don't know. Yours,
LE Roy F. GRIFFIN, Professor Natural Science.

STATE COLLEGE, ORONO, MAINE, February 4, 1885.
Dear Sir: I shall be pleased to assist the members of the Agassiz
Association in chemistry as well as in hemiptera. The one is my
business, the other my recreation. Yours very truly,
THE Philadelphia Assembly of the A. A. is now issuing a com-
plete report of the proceedings of the late Convention of the Associa-
tion held in Philadelphia. It will contain all papers and speeches in
full. A limited edition is published at 25 cents a copy, postage
paid. This will not cover cost of printing. The Assembly, however,
" thinking that it would be a great loss to the A. A. at large not to
have the proceedings published," has most generously advanced
the money.
For all members of the A. A., these books will contain much in-
teresting material pertaining to the Natural History papers and




discussions of the best methods of Chapter work. Those that have
not already secured copies may address Philadelphia Assembly of
the A. A., P. O. Box 259, Philadelphia, Pa.


PROFESSOR W. H. SEAMAN hopes to enlist the co-operation of
many of our members in a series of simple observations. He writes:
During the past year there have been several articles on the value
of rings in the trunks of trees as a means of determining the age of
the tree. It has occurred to me that the A. A. might contribute valu-
able information, and I suggest the following:
Does the number of rings of growth in a tree-trunk agree with the
number of years the tree has lived ?
Every Agassiz member who knows of a tree being cut down whose
age is certainly known, is invited to send answers to the following
questions to Wi. H. Seaman, 1424 nxth St., Washington, D. C.
The results of the answers will be published. Put the number of
each question before the answer, but do not write the question.
I. What is the exact locality of the tree ?
2. When was it planted, or when was it first noticed, and how do
you know this time?
3. How many complete rings and how many partial rings in its
trunk ?
4. Give name of tree (i. e., oak, apple, etc.)

163. Colors of Flowers.-I have been reading The Colors of
Flowers, by Grant Allen. If color is so very important a factor in
attracting insects, why can no insect be induced to visit artificial
flowers ? Is it clearly proved that insects can not be so induced ?
I have tried it myself unsuccessfully, and have never heard of a
successful case; but I wish that other members would try also.- C.
164. Phytocollite.-One of my latest specimens is phytocollite.
It now resembles jet, but when taken from the ground, where it formed
layers with a clayey soil, it looked like a black jelly. It burns
slowly in a Bunsen burner, but, after hardening in the air, bums
readily, with a clear yellow flame, then leaves a light, white ash, and
has the odor of bituminous coal. It has a conchoidal fracture, and
a resinous luster. It comes from Scranton, Pa.
I find the study more and more interesting.- Ellen C. Wood.
165. Flying Squirrels.- I am positive that some flying squirrels
do not hibernate; I keep mine in an old chicken-house, with only
wire screens over the windows, and in the coldest weather (about 300)
they were as lively as ever.- Mark Manley.
166. Squirrels in Winter.-For watering winter, wild squirrels eat
snow, and gnaw ice that has formed in the crevices of trees. I have
seen gray squirrels gnaw off small twigs and lap up the sap that
flowed from the wounds.- Mark Manley.
167. Caterpillars in Ice.-While skating, a great many cater-
pillars were observed on the ice. One was secured that was about
half an inch in the ice. It was an inch long, black, with light spots
on sides, and was rather lively. Is this common ?- Curator, Ch.
20, Fairfield, Iowa.


Birds' eggs.-Wm. Monk, 1225 Dorchester Street, Montreal,
Polyphemus cocoons, moths, eggs, and minerals, for minerals.-
F. V. Corregan, 47 E. 7th Street, Oswego, N. Y.
Pipestone, for minerals.- Sioux K. Grigsby, Sec. 750, Sioux Falls,
Chinese nuts, agatized wood and ores from California, for eggs,
star-fishes, etc.- Geo. S. Eddy, Leavenworth, Ks.
Birds' eggs blown through one small hole in side, for same.
Coirespondence desired.- Frank W. Wentworth, x61 York Street,
New Haven, Conn.
Birds' eggs (side blown).- Geo. H. Lorimer, no2 York Street,
New Haven, Conn.
Slate, in natural state, for minerals or plants. Write first.- Chap-
ter 731, box No. i, Baird's Mills, Tennessee.
A small stone from California for one from any country in Eastern
Hemisphere. Please label distinctly.-Linta Booth, Piedmont, Oak-
land, Alameda Co., Cal.
Butterflies, moths, cocoons, for entomological specimens. Cocoons
and pupae specially desired.--H. W Furniss, 327 W. North Street,
Indianapolis, Ind.
Minerals and insects.-E. R. Lamed, 2546 Dearborn Street,
Chicago, Ill.
Miscellaneous specimens.-Miss MacFarland, 1727 F. N. W.,
Washington, D. C.
Amazon stone- smoky topaz, petrified leaves, etc. Please
write.-Walter D. Burnham, 338 S. x5th Street, Denver, Col.
Correspondence with view to exchange.-Howard Crawley, Sec.
Ch. 8, 307 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
Minerals and shells. Correspondence with Southern and Western

Chapters.- H. E. Sawyer, Curator Ch. 1x2, 37 Gates Street, South
Boston, Mass.
Shells from W. Indies, Spanish moss, and fossil coral for minerals,
etc.- S. A. Howes, Battle Creek, Mich.
Tertiary fossils for gold, silver, copper, lead, and zinc ores.- F. L.
Yoakum, Palestine, Texas.
Feldspar, Iceland spar, green calcite, and iron pyrites, for butter-
flies-moths or cocoons.- Malcolm MacLean, 417 Washington
Street, Wilmington, Del.
Silver and gold ores, iron and copper pyrites, for birds' eggs.-
Henri N. Barber, Polo, Ogle Co., III.
Good specimens of Lepidoptera for same.-W. P. Cook, Fuller
Street, and Ashland Avenue, Chicago, ll.
Correspondence for Ch. 135 should be addressed to E. T. Gibson,
Jackson, Mich.


587. Concord, N. H., January, 21, 1885. For the last month
we have had very interesting and profitable meetings, considering
the size of our Chapter.
We have been reading up about different kinds of precious stones
and about star-fishes, sea-anemones, and such sea-side curiosities.
We read articles about whatever subject interests us, and take
notes, which are copied into a book. One good source of material
is the Popular Science Monthly, and most of our articles lately
have been taken from that.
735, N. Y. R. We have decided to take up one of the kingdoms
every two months, and have lectures delivered on it. Last month
we studied butterflies; we are now looking up minerals. The
Society seems to get on very well, and all seem glad to come. As
we had very little money in the treasury, we started a paper, which
has already brought us in about five dollars. We hope soon to increase
its circulation. This money is to be used for buying books; that is,
some mentioned in the Hand-book. We wish to exchange a speci-
men of copper ore from Lake Superior for a specimen of tin.-- Jessie
P. Andresen, Sec.
708, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Two months have passed and our
Chapter is getting along nicely.
We have now twenty active and six honorary members.
Twelve meetings have been held, and twenty-one essays read.
We have a cabinet and have three hundred specimens in it.
We are now preparing a play which we are to have soon for the
benefit of our Chapter.-Yours truly, Peter T. Bourne, Sec.
688, Landis Valley, Pa. We are getting along slowly, but surely.
At present our library numbers 82 volumes, among which are the
Geological Survey, by Powell (U. S.); g9 Agricultural Reports from
'63 to '83; 64 reports on fisheries, ordinance Smithsonian Reports,
etc. The 82 volumes did not cost us a cent; some of them will be
very useful to us, especially the reports on Entomology in U. S. Agri-
cultural Reports.
Our Chapter has the use of a small printing-press, with which we
print our blanks, etc.
As I write I see a domestic fly on the window; these I noticed all
winter, and on parting the leaves of tobacco I noticed many of them
beside.a wasp, and a few varieties of spiders in a sort of stupor be-
neath the leaves. Our relic collector goes by signs; when he sees
small chips of flint, quartz, etc., on the ground, there he is sure of
finding some Indian implements.- H. K. Landis, Sec.
87, N.Y. B. Itgivesmethegreatestpleasuretorecordso eventfula
year in the annals of New York B. Our Chapter has made an im-
mensestride in the past year. Better organization, increased interest,
sounder finances, mark every step. Several notable events in the year
stand out in bold relief. The adoption of the new Constitution of the
A A.'; the A. A. convention in Philadelphia; and the adoption of
the new Constitution and By-Laws by the Chapter. The Conven-
tion of the A. A. will forever be a source of pride to the members of
our Chapter in general and to the delegates in particular; and will
do much to effect public recognition of its excellent work. The
voluntary lectures and essays by members mark a great advance
upon the almost compulsory delivery of former years. The library
is increasing and shows many valuable acquisitions. We have at
present 71 volumes treating of the various branches of science; 581
magazines, and 6r essays written by members. It has been more
diligently patronized than in former years. The treasury is in ex-
cellent condition; we have $123.95 in cash. The expenses of the year
amounted to $85.24. We have had 18 discussions on various subjects.
The Curators' Committee did fine work in exhibiting selections from
the cabinet This makes the members acquainted with the cabinet,
which, being in a private house, is necessarily more or less inacces-
sible to them. The evening entertainment, although successful be-
yond expectation, was not as representative of our work as the
annual exhibition held upon Prof. Agassiz's birthday, which gained
us many friends. We have had two excursions--one to South
Orange and one to Rockland Lake,- which, with the moth-hunts in
East New.York, gave the members an excellent chance to combine
pleasure with work. The thanks of every individual member are due
to the friends to whose disinterested encouragement we are indebted
for our existence, our continuance; their kindness being the bond of
union which unites our small efforts. Let us work as good and true
young men, appreciative of the good that we arereceiving.- Frederic
Schneider, Rec. Sec.



Name. No. ofMembers. Address.
Paterson, N. J. (A)....... 4..Mrs. T. H. Ciosby, 289 Broad-
Baltimore, .Md. (J)....... 6..W. Hugg, go North Paca
Newton Centre, Mass. (B) 8..Ernest Nickerson, Box 188.
Baltimore, Md. (K).... ..W. E. Moffett, 27 ist Street.
Detroit, Mich. (G)........ o..Wm. W. Bishop, 74 Pitcher St.
Alleghany City, Pa. (A).. 8..Frank Woodburn, 170 North
Chicago, Ill. (X)......... 6..J. Cook, 236 Dearborn Ave.
Wt~'e.lr.E. W. Va.' (A).... 6..F. S.Dalzell, care City Bank.
Ch e:'.:r ;. C. (A)........ 4..Prof. H. A. Green.
New York, N. Y. (T)..... 8..W. E. Matheson, 70 Union P1.
Sloatsburg, N. Y. (A)..... 6..W. W. Allen, Box 12.
Vineland, N. J. (A)...... 5..John S. Gage, Box A.
Baltimore, Md. (L)....... 6..Miss E. O. Williams, 167 Park
Concord, N. H. (C)...... 4..Harley B. Roby, 7 Bailey's
Effingham, IlI. (A)....... 4..Homer Clark, Box og9.
Oakland, Cal. (C)........ 4.SR. Wood, 2018 Telegraph

777 Seneca Falls, N. Y. (A)... 8..Claude Christopher.
778 Embla P. 0., Baltimore
Co., Md. (A).......... 4..C. S. Lee.
779 University of Va. (A) .... 6..James T. Underhill.
780 Jamestown, D. T......... 6..Frederick Lyon.
781 Brooklyn, N. Y. (K)...... 4..C. H. Town, 3 Montague
782 Clinton, Iowa (B)........ 5,.Miss Laura E. Bachelder.
783 Owego, N. Y. (A)........ 8..F. Storrs Hansell.
784 Providence, R. I. (D)..... 4..E. A. Burlingame, 337 Broad
785 Champaign, Illinois (A)... 7..Willie Scott.

710 San Bernardino, Cal......2o..A. S. Guthrie.
275 Washington, D. C. (E)... 2..Alonzo H. Stewart, 204 4th
Street, S. E.
Address all communications for this department to the President
of the Association,
Principal of Lenox Academy, LENOX, MASS.



I AM composed of seventy letters, and form a couplet by Shake-
4-27-70-24-30-33 and ministers of grace defend us !"
"For stony 29-26-37-11-57-22 can not hold love out."
"I do beseech you to 43-4-9-63-20-46-51-28-60-19 my purposes
"Or like a 1-41-45-18-61? Very like a 1-41-45-18-61."
The lady 47-16-55-44-21-46-66-23 too much, methinks."
"An old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in
his 54-52-8-40-58 an inland man."
So x1-7-34-3I-21-49-12-25 and so wild in 66-38-3-59-35 attire."
Still 2-39-6-xo-32-69-70 on my daughter."
Slaying is the word; it is a deed in 53-39-22-67-68-7-27."
"-That- quench the fire of your pernicious rage with 42-56-64-
15-18-61 fountains issuing from your veins-."
I do not set my life at a 5-5o-69-23 fee."
"There's a 13-48-62-36-4-36-40-65 that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will." F. A. W.

THE centrals, reading downward, spell a name famous in history.
CROSS-WORDS: x. Wept noisily. 2. Pertaining to a canon. 3.
Beloved by good housewives. 4. A mariner. 5. In trepidation. 6.
What worth is said to make. 7. An assembly. 8. Avessel used by
soldiers for carrying liquor for drink. 9. Buying provisions..
C. d. B.


3 . 4

5 6

7 8
FROM I to 2, cheated; from 2 to 6, forces along; from 5 to 6,
escapes by stratagem; from i to 5, an instrument of correction; from
3 to 4, to clothe; from 4 to 8, eaten away; from 7 to 8, guarded;
from 3 to 7, to accompany; from i to 3, compensation for services;
from 2 to 4, to color; from 6 to 8, dismal; from 5 to 7, to consume.

My primals and finals name two very famous writers born in April.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): I. An exhibition. 2. A nimbus.

3. To affirm. 4. Species. 5. Huge bodies of water. 6. The fore-
part ofa ship. 7. A river of Spain. 8. In the distance. Afloat.
io. A distributive adjective pronoun. YCIE."


THIS differs from the ordinary numerical enigma, in that the words
forming it are pictured instead of described. The answer isa maxim
of Poor Richard's," commending industry.

OFT, with my second nestling near,
While under foot my wwole you press,
You by myfirst are borne along.
(-When safe at home my riddle guess.) "CEDIPUS."





PI. sisting of meconic acid and a base.. To attain. 5. Earthnuts.
6. Rends. 7. Rank. 8. A cold substance. 9. An exclanation.
IN what poem by John G. Whittier do the lines occur from which io. In eleate. Rank 8 A cold substance 9 cla io.
the following "pi" is made? I r.
Fro weske het doucis dah kedra eth shill, INVERTED PYRAMID.
Nad vedex het laves twih arinnig,
Adn lal eth wsodo weer ads wtih simt, ....
Nad lla het brosok palincoming.

THE central letters (indicated by stars), when read downward,
spell the name of a brave general in the Revolutionary War.
CROSS-WORDS: i. In Clinton. 2. A reptile. 3. An antique ves-
sel. 4. The foot of beasts of prey having claws. 5. A number.
6. A beverage. 7. A monkey. 8. A young animal. 9. Devoured.
to. Imagination. II. Certain shell-fish. 12. Apparel.
x. OF the same country. 2. The surname of a prominent charac-
ter in the play, "A New Way to Pay Old Debts." 3. A salt con-

ACROSS: I. Of the nature of a parasite. 2. A series of violent
declamations. 3. Became dim. 4. The cry of a certain animal.
5. In pyramid.
DOWNWARD: I. In pyramid. 2 A preposition. 3. To tear.
4. The nationality of Mohammed. 5. An Eastern salutation. 6. A
notion. 7. A boy's nickname. 8. A verb. q. In Alcibiades.

i. In debate. 2. An abbreviation of the name of a month. 3.
Fretted. 4. Allured. 5. A girl's nickname. 6. The governor of
Algiers. 7. In debate. CHARLOTTE.

IN each of these examples, the problem is to arrange the grouped
letters so that they will form a word agreeing with the accompanying
I. LAMNEEEOSRYY. Relating to charity.
2. TAAVIEELL. To mitigate.
3. BLATTEEDDII. Weakened.
4. CONIIIPPAARTT. The act of sharing in common with others.
5. SCATTLLIIINNO. The act of emitting sparks. MARION V. W.


CONCEALED PROVERB. A rolling stone gathers no moss.
BEHEADINGS. Mayne Reid. I. M-eat. 2. A-rid. 3. Y-ore. 4.
N-ear. 5. E-den. 6. R-ace. 7. E-spy. 8. I-bid. 9. D-ale.
Paris. 4. Parasol. 5. Risen. 6. Son. 7. L. II. i. L. 2. Pip.
3. Petal. 4. Literal. 5. Pared. 6. Lad. 7. L. III. i. L. 2.
Nap. 3. Natal. 4. Lateral. 5. Pared. 6. Lad. 7. L. IV. i.
L. 2. Lip. 3. Libel. 4. Liberal. 5. Perry. 6. Lay. 7. L. V.
I. L. 2. Dab. 3. Debar. 4. Labored. 5. Bared. 6. Red. 7. D.
ANAGRAMS. Authoress, Harriet Beecher Stowe. x. Uncle Tom's
Cabin. 2. Little Foxes. 3. The Minister's Wooing. 4. Oldtown
DOUBLE DIAMOND. Across: i. C. 2. Rat. 3. Lines. 4. Men.
5. S. Downward: i. L. 2. Rim. 3. Canes. 4. Ten. 5. S.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Michel; finals, Angelo. Cross-

words: I. ManiA. 2. IntroductioN. 3. CraG. 4. HingE. 5.
EquaL. 6. LoO.
CUBE. From i to 2, ferreous; 2 to 6, suspense; 5 to 6, sparable;
I to 5, fabulous; 3 to 4, trailing; 4 to 8, garrison; 7 to 8, shagreen;
3 to 7, theatres; a to 3. faint; 2 to 4, shrug; 6 to 8, consumed; 5 to
7, shuts.
WORD-SQUARES. I. I. Baton. 2. Atone. 3. Toads. 4. On
dit. 5. Nests. II. i. Rouge. 2. Owner. 3. Under. 4. Geese.
5. Erred.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. A dry and cold March never begs its
A LETTER PUZZLE. Start at the letter "i" in "price." Indus-
try pays debts, while despair increaseth them.
AN OCTAGON. I. Nap. 2. Forum. 3. Nostril. 4. Artiste. 5-
Pursued. 6. Mites. 7. Led.

ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER were received, before FEBRUARY 20, from "Navajo "-Paul Reese-
Maggie and May Turrill-Clara and Mamma-"Judith"-" CEdipus"-J. N. W.-Dorie and May Higgs-Archie and Thirza-
Ernest B. Cooper-"Pepper and Maria"-Dora Chase Congdon-Mamie Hitchcock-Trebor Treblig- Hugh and Cis -Willie Serrell
and friends- Paddy and Joe-" St. Paul"-Lucy M. Bradley-Ida C. L.- Francis W. Islip-" Shumway Hen and Chickens"-
Marion Stuart Smith Harry M. Wheelock--Bessie Yates.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER were received, before FEBRUARY 20, from M. R. Bailhache, i -W. A. Pickell, i -
E. A. Patchen, I-M. Reynolds, 2-F. E. Loeb, i-H. L. Haughton, i-C. Langstroth, i-C. and A. Loeb, i-S. Seabury, I-
T. S. Y. L. A. M., x-Robert McK. Barry, 2-M. D. Bush, i-L. S., 2-Ada M. Smith, 2-N. Lewis, I-M. F. F., 3-George W.
Chandler, 2 A. B. Corbin, I S. E. Day, Bessie Packard and Ethel Saltus, 3 E. and J. Rhoads, J. Foote, i M. Bloomfield, I
-"Sparta," -B. Everly, -"Socks," 2-Laura E. Maas, 2-L. Wells, -H. H. Tryon, x -M. Rogers, -A. E. Hartranft, i-
Amelia Norris Frink, 2-Harry G. H., --M. L. R. Satterlee, I-"Two Sisters," 2-J. 0. Starkweather, I-C. D. Mason, i-Ferd.
G., --Emma L. Gilbert, 7-H. W. P., 3- H. Figley, i- Mayme C., L. Wippert, I- M. Guild. I- M. Cassler, i--Julius L. Troy,
2-" Psyche," 6-C. Clark, x -Manny Neuburger, 2-Frank M., x-" Marguerite," --Lulu Philibert, 2-A.Neuburger, I -" Midget
and Brownie," 3-S. R. Bent, Willie S. Covell, 2- P. G. Peltret, i -A. Morgenthan, I H. H. C., I -" Puss," 3 M. E. Dickman,
S- Carrie Barney, 2- Prof. Plunkett, A. L. Zeckendorf, I-Anna E. Ross, 2-" My Sister," --" Sinbad the Sailor," 5-Florence
Abbie Clarke, 6- Percy Varian, 7- E. Hoffman, -" Oakland Crowd," 5 F. G. Mellen, i Genivieve Alling, 2-" You B.," Ham-
burg, i Morris D. Sample, 9 Emma Findlay, 2 Flora McDonald, 3 -B. J. Brush, i Laura Smith, x J. L. Kendrick, I M. Mebs,
S- Ben. Ives Gilman, 8-M. A. Granger, i-Edith and Lawrence Butler, 3-"Pyramus and Thisbe," 4- Lou Henry, 2 Helen C. S., i
- Sadie and Bessie Rhodes, 9 H. L. Stebbins, I -J. W. Stebbins, i F. A. Foster, i Carrie C., I K. Jordan, I G. Goldsmith, 4-
K. E. Clulow, --Edith L. Granger, 3-J. S. H., r-Fred B. Defrees, 2-Annie Pierce, 3-Nellie E. Miner, 3-E. B. Haggin, i-H.
Payne, N. M. Suydam, A. Lehow, M. W. Nicholas, Ellie and Susie, 2- Edith and Myra, 6-H. P. Cofran, i--Effic K.
Talboys, 7 Susie E. Hepner, 4 E. C. Brownell, I S. Symington, x Gertrude Perkins, 3 Rose and Roger Perkins, 9 L. Kendrick,
x-M. E., i -Edward Hamill, 8-" Merlin," i-Jer, 3-M. F. S., i -J. H. Farwell, --Jessie Mackeever, 7-Lily M. W., r-J. P.
Hedley, Nona Fritz, 7- C. Parsons, i--Willie Tahourdin, 2-Bertha and Mamma, 7 Arthur E. Hyde, 5- Grace L. Dickie, 3 -
Petsy and Beatie, 3 F. R. Nickerson, i Lillie Parmenter, 5- Geo. Habenicht, 2 Mamma and Marian, 5 -John V. Simeral, 2 M.
McGaw, I- R. H., Papa and Mamma, 2- Laura Gordon, 2 Nellie Wood, 7--Josie E. Wilhelm, 3 -James Conner, 3- Ida Maude
Preston, to J. A. H. H., 9-" Juventus." 8 -" Josie," I Josephine Casey, 4- Bob Howard, 6- Budge, Bab, and Auntie, 7- Barry
H. Jones, 3- W. S. Symington, 2 M. R. and L. W., I E. Muriel Grundy, 9- Eleanor B. Linsley, 4 Tiny Puss, Mitz, and Muff, 9
-" Penetrator," 3-" Puz," 7 -C. Powers, i T. Snell, i -Herbert Gaytes, ro--"Jamie" and Mamma, 5-" Phil O. Sophy," 8-
"R. I. Chard," o--Emmie B. Taylor, 2-L. Jay, i-"S. 0. Theytellme," 3-Fanny R. Jackson, 9-Edith Y. and Jennie D., 4-
Willie Sheraton, 3- Harry and Hallie C., 2-Jessie L. Frost, 2 F. B. Buckwalter, i--Lulu M. B., -E. and M. Peart and J.
Spiller, 5 Sallie Viles, 9 Snipe," 2 Pernie, 8 Bijou, 2.





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