Front Cover
 A school of long ago
 "Oh, dear!"
 Our secret society
 The land without a name
 Driven back to Eden
 Historic girls: Clotilda of Burgundy,...
 Johnny "interviews" an anemone
 A lullaby
 His one fault
 The liberty bell
 A school afloat
 Washington's first corresponde...
 Daughter Itha
 Sheep or silver?
 The children of the cold
 The six little flies
 Among the law-makers
 From Bach to Wagner
 How sport saved the kittens
 The letter-box
 The Agassiz association - Fifty-first...
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00159
 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: VID00159
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
        Page 642
    A school of long ago
        Page 643
        Page 644
        Page 645
    "Oh, dear!"
        Page 646
        Page 647
        Page 648
        Page 649
    Our secret society
        Page 650
        Page 651
    The land without a name
        Page 652
    Driven back to Eden
        Page 653
        Page 654
        Page 655
        Page 656
        Page 657
        Page 658
        Page 659
        Page 660
    Historic girls: Clotilda of Burgundy, the girl of the French vineyards
        Page 661
        Page 662
        Page 663
        Page 664
        Page 665
    Johnny "interviews" an anemone
        Page 666
        Page 667
    A lullaby
        Page 668
    His one fault
        Page 669
        Page 670
        Page 671
        Page 672
        Page 673
        Page 674
        Page 675
    The liberty bell
        Page 676
        Page 677
    A school afloat
        Page 678
        Page 679
        Page 680
        Page 681
        Page 682
        Page 683
        Page 684
    Washington's first correspondence
        Page 685
    Daughter Itha
        Page 686
        Page 687
        Page 688
    Sheep or silver?
        Page 689
        Page 690
        Page 691
        Page 692
        Page 693
        Page 694
        Page 695
    The children of the cold
        Page 696
        Page 697
        Page 698
        Page 699
        Page 700
    The six little flies
        Page 701
    Among the law-makers
        Page 702
        Page 703
        Page 704
        Page 705
        Page 706
        Page 707
    From Bach to Wagner
        Page 708
        Page 709
    How sport saved the kittens
        Page 710
        Page 711
        Page 712
        Page 713
    The letter-box
        Page 714
        Page 715
    The Agassiz association - Fifty-first report
        Page 716
        Page 717
    The riddle-box
        Page 718
        Page 719
        Page 720
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


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, I' .

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---- --i-------


VOL. XII. JULY, 1885. No. 9.

[Copyright, 1885, by THE CENTURY CO. I



A HUNDRED and fifty years ago, among the
German settlers of Pennsylvania, there was a
remarkable old school-master, whose name was
Christopher Dock. For a long time he taught
two little country schools. For three days he
would teach school at a little place called Skip-
pack, and then for the next three days he would
teach at-Salford. Every one who knew him called
him "the pious school-master." They said that
he never lost his temper, and one day a man who
thought to try him, said many harsh and abu-
sive words to him, and even cursed him; but the
only reply of the school-master was:
Friend, may the Lord have mercy on thee."
In the time in which Christopher Dock taught
German children in Pennsylvania, all other school-
masters, so far as we know, used to beat their
scholars severely with whips or long switches.
Some of us, whose heads are not yet white, can
remember with sorrow the long beech switches of
the school-masters of our childhood. But long
before our time, School-master Dock, all by him-
self, had found out a better way.
When a child came to school for the first time,
the other scholars were made, one after another,
to give the new scholar welcome by shaking hands.
Then the new boy or girl was told that this was
not a harsh school, but a place for those who
would behave, and that if a scholar were lazy, dis-
obedient, or stubborn, the master would, in the
presence of the whole school, pronounce such a
one not fit for this school, but only for a harsh

school where children were flogged. The new
scholar was asked to promise to obey and to be
diligent, and then was shown to a seat.
"Now," the good master would say, when this
was done, if the new scholar were a boy," who will
take this new scholar and help him to learn ? "
If the scholar were a girl, the question would be
asked of the girls. When the new boy or girl was
clean and bright-looking, many would be willing
to take charge of him or her. But there were few
ready to teach a dirty, ragged-looking child.
Sometimes no one would wish to do it. Then
the master would offer to the one who would
take such a child a reward of one of the beau-
tiful texts of Scripture, which the school-masters
of that time used to write or illuminate for the
children, or one of the "birds" which he was
accustomed to paint with his own hands. Mr.
Samuel W. Pennypacker, of Philadelphia, who has
translated all of Christopher Dock's writings, has a
large book full of illuminations and painted birds
made by the old Pennsylvania teachers; and some
of these are really find. On the next page is an
engraving of one of these illuminations, which,
though not the work of Christopher Dock, is a
good specimen of the cards that were used in his
day. The elaborate inscription, which begins
with such a flourish and then dwindles into close-
crowded writing, is a little sermon on the two vir-
tues of patience and humility; and the tablets in
the corners are interesting as showing queer cos-
tumes of the time.


Whenever one of his younger scholars succeeded
in learning his A B C, the good Christopher Dock
required the father of his pupil to give his son a
penny, and also asked his mother to cook two eggs
for him as a trevt in honor of his diligence. To poor
children in a new country these were fine rewards;
I am afraid that neither the penny nor the eggs
would go far with those who read ST. NICHOLAS.
But at various points in his progress, an industrious
child in one of Dock's schools received a penny
from his father and two eggs cooked by his mother.
All this time he was not counted a member of the
school, but only as on probation. The day on which
a boy or girl began to read was the great day. If the
pupil had been diligent in spelling, the master, on
the morning after the first reading day, would give
a ticket carefully written or illuminated with his
own hand. This read: "Industrious -one penny."
This showed that the scholar was now really re-
ceived into the school. But if he should be idle
or disobedient, the token would be taken away.
There were no clocks or watches; the children
came to school one after another, takingtheir places
near the master, who sat writing. They spent
their time reading out of the Testament until all

Every "Lazy Scholar" had his name written
on the blackboard. If a child at any time failed
to read correctly, he was sent back to study his
passage or verse of Scripture, and called again
after a while. If he failed a second and a third time,
all the school cried out "Lazy! and then his
name was written on the board. Immediately all the
poor Lazy Scholar's friends went to work to teach
him to read his lesson correctly, for if his name
should not be rubbed off the board before school
was dismissed, all the scholars might write it down
and take it home with them. If, however, he
should read well before school was out, the scholars,
at the bidding of the master, called out, "Indus-
trious !" and then his name was rubbed off the
The funniest of Dock's rewards was that which
he gave to those who made no mistake in their
lessons. He marked a large 0 with chalk on the
hand of the perfect scholar. Fancy what a time
the boys and girls must have had trying to go home
without rubbing out this 0 !
If you had gone into this school some day, you
might have seen a boy sitting on a punishment
bench all alone. This fellow had told a lie, or

--- -- _---F--

were there. But every one who succeeded in read- he used bad language; he was put there as implying
ing his verse without mistake stopped reading, and that he was not fit to sit near anybody else. If he
came and sat at the writing-table to write. The had committed the offense often, you would see a
poor fellow who remained last on the bench was yoke around his neck as though he were a brute.
called a Lazy Scholar. Sometimes, however, Christopher Dock would give
For a translation of the text of this illumination, see page 714.




the scholars their choice of a blow on the hand, or
a seat on the punishment bench; and usually they
preferred the blow.
The scholars were allowed at certain times to
study aloud. But at other times they were obliged
to keep still, and a boy or girl was put up as a
"watcher" to write down the names of those who
talked in this time for quiet.
The old school-master of Skippack wrote for his
scholars a hundred rules for good behavior, and
this is said to be the first work on etiquette written
in America. But rules of behavior for simple people
living in houses of one or two rooms only were
very different from those needed in our day.
When you comb your hair, do not go out into
the middle of the room," says the school-master.
And this shows that families were accustomed to
eat and sleep in one room.
"Do not eat your morning bread upon the road
or in school," he tells them, "but ask your
parents to give it you at home."
So the table manners of that time were'very
good, but very curious to us. He says: Do not
wobble with your stool"; because rough, home-
made stools were the common chairs of the time;
and the puncheon floors were so uneven that a
noisy child could easily rock to and fro.
Put your knife. and fork upon the right, and
your bread on the left side," he says; and he also
tells them not to throw bones under the table.
And when the child has finished eating, he is not

required to wait for the others, or to ask to be
excused, but to "get up quietly, take your stool
with you, wish a pleasant meal-time, and go to one


side." And he is cautioned not to put the remain-
ing bread in his pocket.
You may imagine that, as time passed on, Chris-
topher Dock had many friends; for all his scholars
of former years loved him. He lived to be very
old, and taught his schools till the last. One even-
ing he did not come home, and the people went
to look for the beloved old man. Hewas foundon
his knees in the school-house, dead.



SHE 'S a good little girl,-"Good for what?" did you say?
Why, good as a kitten to purr and to play;
And good as a brooklet to sing on its way;
And good as the sunshine to brighten the day.
To what shall I liken the dear little elf?
She 's as good as--as good as-as good as -herself!

THE ambitious ant would a-travelling go,
To see the pyramid's wonderful show.
He crossed a brook and a field of rye,
And came to the foot of a haystack high.
Ah! wonderful pyramid! then cried he;
"How glad I am that I crossed the sea!"





oT'OTO was very disconso-
/.I late. He never staid
indoors for an ordinary
rain, but this was a real
deluge; so he stood by
.t o the window and said,
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!!
Oh, DEAR!!!" as if
he did not know how to
say anything else. His
Good grandmother bore
this quietly for some
i p time; but at length she
Toto, do you know
what happened to the boy who said 'Oh, dear '
too many times ? "
"No! said Toto, brightening up at the pros-
pect of a story. What did happen to him ? Tell
me, Gran'ma, please "
Come and hold this skein of yarn for me,
then replied the grandmother, "and I shall tell
you as I wind it."

Once upon a time there was a boy "
What was his name ?" interrupted Toto.
"Chimborazo i replied the grandmother. I
should have told you his real name in a moment,
if you had not interrupted me, but now I shall call
him Chimborazo, and that will be something for
you to remember." -
Toto blushed and'-hung his head.
"This boy," c:riuiinued the grandmother. "in-
variably put the. if0g'sfioot out of bed rrst when
he rose Lp m' the morning, and consequently he
was aivwas unhappy."
Here Toto held up his hand Oahout speaking.
"Yes, 'ou may speak," said the old lady.
What is it?"
"Please, Gran'ma," said Toto, Which is the
wrong foot ? "
"Do you know which your right foot is?"
asked the grandmother. And do you know the
difference between right and wrong? "
"Why, yes, of course said Toto.
"Then," said the grandmother, "you know
which the wrong foot is.
As I was saying," she went on, Chimborazo
was a very unhappy boy. He pouted and sulked,
and he said 'Oh, dear Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
Oh, dear until everybody was tired of hearing it.

'Chimborazo,' his mother would say; 'please don't
say Oh, dear! any more. It is very annoying.
Say something else.' But the boy would answer,
'Oh, dear! I can't! I don't know anything else
to say!' At last his mother could bear it no
longer, so, one day, she sent for his fairy god-
mother and told her all about it.
Humph said the fairy godmother. I
shall see to it. Send the boy to me.' So Chim-
borazo was sent for, and came, hanging his head
as usual. When he saw his fairy godmother, he
said, Oh, dear for he was rather afraid of her.
"'Oh, dear, it is!' said the fairy godmother
sharply; and she put on her spectacles and looked
at him. Do you know what a bell-punch is ?'
"' Oh, dear!' said Chimborazo. 'No, ma'am,
I don't.'
"'W.ll,' said the godmother, 'I am going to
give you one.'
Oh, dear !' said Chimborazo, 'I don't want
Probably not,'replied she. But that does n't
make much difference. You have it now in your
jacket pocket.' Chimborazo felt in his pocket, and
took out a queer-looking instrument of shining
"'Oh, dear he said.
'Oh, dear, it is!' said the fairy godmother.
'Now,' she continued, 'listen to me, Chimborazo!
I am going to put you on an allowance of "Oh,
dears! This is a self-acting bell-punch, and it will
ring whenever you say "Oh, dear!" How many
times do you think you say it in the course of the
Oh, dear!' said Chimborazo. 'Oh, dear! I
don't know.'
Ting! ting/ the bell-punch rang twice sharply;
and, looking at it in dismay, he saw two little round
holes punched in a long slip of pasteboard which
was fastened to the instrument.
'Exactly!' said the fairy. 'That is the way
it works, and a very pretty way, too! Now, my
boy, I am going to give you a very liberal al-
lowance. You may say "Oh, dear," forty-five
times a day There's liberality for you!'
Oh, dear !' cried Chimborazo. I -'Ting!
said the bell-punch.
"'You see?' observed the fairy. 'Nothing
could be prettier. You have now had three of
to-day's allowance. It is still some hours before
noon, so I advise you to be careful. If you exceed




the allowdnce'-here she paused, and glowered
through her spectacles in a very dreadful manner.
Oh, dear! cried Chimborazo and then he
heard another ting! 'what will happen then'?'
You will see !' said the fairy godmother with a
nod. 'Something will happen; you may be very
sure of that! Good-bye,- remember, only forty-
five !' and away she flew out of the window.
Oh, dear! cried Chimborazo, bursting into
tears. 'I don't want it! I wont have it! Oh,
dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh,
dear!!!' Ting! ting/ ting-ting-ting-ting! rang
the bell-punch; and now there were ten round holes
in the strip of pasteboard. Chimborazo was now

"'Well, Chimbo,' said his father, after tea;
'I hear you have had a visit from your fairy god-
mother. What did she say to you, eh?'
"'Oh, dear! said Chimborazo. 'She said-
oh, dear I 've said it again !
She said: oh, dear! I've said it again!'
repeated his father. 'What do you mean by that ?'
"' Oh, dear! I did n't mean that!' cried Chim-
borazo, hastily; and again the inexorable bell rung,
and he knew that another hole was punched in
the fatal cardboard. He pressed his lips firmly
together, and did not open them again, except to
say good-night, until he was safe in his own room.
There he hastily drew the hated bell-punch from


really frightened. He was silent for some time;
and when his mother called him to his lessons, he
tried very hard not to say the dangerous words.
But the habit was so strong that he said them un-
consciously. By dinner-time there were twenty-
five holes in the cardboard strip; by tea-time
there were forty. Poor Chimborazo he was afraid
to open his lips; for, whenever he did, the words
would slip out in spite of him.

his pocket, and counted the holes in the strip of
cardboard- there were forty-three Oh, dear!'
cried the boy, forgetting himself again in his
alarm. 'Only two more Oh, DEAR Oh, dear!
I've done it again Oh- Ting! TING went
the bell-punch; and the cardboard was punched
to the end. 'Oh, dear!' cried Chimborazo, now
beside himself with terror. Oh, dear Oh, dear!
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!! what will become of me?'


"OH, DEAR !"

A strange, whirring noise was heard; then a
loud clang, and the next moment the bell-punch,
as if it were alive, flew out of his hand, straight
through the open window, and was gone !


Chimborazo stood breathless with terror for a
little while, momentarily expecting that the roof
would fall in on his head, or the floor blow up
under his feet, or that some appalling catastrophe
would follow; but nothing happened. Everything

"The next morning, soon after Chimborazo
came downstairs, his father said in a kind voice:
'My boy, I am going to drive over to your
grandfather's farm this morning; would you like
to go with me ? '
A drive to the farm was one of the greatest pleas-
ures Chimborazo had, so he answered promptly,
"'Oh, dear!'
Oh, very well!' said his father, looking much
surprised, 'you need not go, my son, if you do not
wish to. I shall take Robert instead.'
"Poor Chimborazo he had opened his lips to
say Thank you, Papa I should like to go very
much!' but, instead of those words, out had
popped, in his most doleful tone, the now hated
'oh, dear!' He sat amazed, but was roused by
his mother's calling him to breakfast. Come,
Chimbo!' she said; 'here are sausages and
scrambled eggs, and you are very fond of both;
which will you have?' Chimborazo hastened to
say, 'Sausages, please, Mamma!'-that is, he
hastened to try to say it-but all his mother heard
was Oh, dear!'
His father looked much displeased. Give the
boy some bread and water! he said, sternly. If he
can not answer properly, he must be taught. We
haye had enough of these oh, dear" replies.'
"Poor Chimborazo he saw plainly enough now
what his punishment was to be, and the thought

*- :i

i" 'C- ,. .-

was quiet, and there seemed to be nothing to do of it made him tremble. He tried to ask for some
but to go to bed; so to bed he went, and slept, more bread, but only brought out his 'oh, dear!'
only to dream that he was shot through the head in such a lamentable tone that his father ordered
with a bell-punch, and expired saying Oh, dear!' him to leave the room. He went out into the gar-




den, and there he met John, the gardener, carry-
ing a basket of rosy apples. Oh how delicious
and tempting they looked !
I am bringing some of the finest apples up
to the house, little master,' said John. 'Will
you have one to put in your pocket?'
Oh, dear!' was all the poor boy could
say, though he really wanted an apple very
much! And when John heard those fretful
words, he put the apple back in his basket,
muttering something about ungrateful lads.
Poor Chimborazo! I shall not give the
whole history of that miserable day. A mis-
erable day it was, from beginning to end. He
fared no better at dinner than at breakfast;
for at the second oh, dear !' his father sent
him .up to his room, 'to stay there until he
knew how to take what was given him, and
to be thankful for it.' He knew well enough
by this time, but he could not tell his father
how he suffered; and he went to his room and
sat looking out of the Window, a hungry and
miserable boy. In the afternoon his Cousin
Will came up to see him.
"' Why, Chimbo he cried, why do you /
sit moping here in the house when all the boys '
are out ? Come and play marbles with me on
the piazza. Ned and Harry are out there
waiting for you. Come on!'
'Oh, dear! said Chimborazo.
'What's the matter?' asked Will. 'Have
n't you any marbles ? Never mind! I 'll give
you half.of mine if you like. Come!',
Oh, DEAR said Chimborazo.
'Well,' said Will, 'if that 's all you have
to say when I offer you marbles, I 'Il keep
them myself. I suppose you expected me to
give you all of them, did you ? I never saw such
a fellow and off he went in a huff.

"'Well, Chimborazo,' said the fairy godmother
that evening; what do you think of "oh, dear! "
now?' And poor Chimborazo looked at her be-
seechingly, but said nothing.
Finding that forty-five times was not enough

for you yesterday, I thought I would let you have
all you wanted to-day! said the fairy godmother,
slyly. 'Are.you satisfied with to-day's allowance ?'



"The boy still looked imploringly at her, but
did not open his lips.
'Well! well!' she said at last, touching his
lips with her wand. 'I think that you have had
sufficient punishment, though I am sorry you
broke the bell-punch. Good-bye! I don't believe
you will say oh, dear any more.'
"And he did n't."






WE were six school-girl friends and therefore Oh, girls she cried, "here 's the very thing
inseparable- Kate and Maggie, Sadie and Emma, for our cabinet-a nice big toad We '11 catch it
Flo and myself. We delighted in secrets and and Just then the toad gave a little hop,
in mystery, and we had a post-office in
Emma's father's cellar to give greater se-
crecy to our communications. The post-
office itself was simply a pasteboard box,
in which, through a convenient slit, our pre-
cious letters were deposited.
And just as the novelty of the post-office
was wearing away, life received a new joy
from the suggestion of our teacher, Mrs.
Lindley, who showed us how we could em-
ploy and amuse ourselves out of school-
hours. This was by no less an enterprise
than making a cabinet and filling it with
specimens and curiosities of our own col-
"And," she added, with wise forethought,
"I advise you to do all the work yourselves,
and to tell no one about it."
Is there anything more delightful, girls,
than a secret ? To be met some morning
when you reach'school with the exclamation
from one of your dearest" friends, Oh,
I'm so glad you -'ve come. I 've such a
secret to tell you and then to hear this
secret under the solemnly whispered pledge,
"In deed and deed and double deed, I 'll
never,never tell as longas I live and breathe !"
Maggie, Sadie, and Emma each passed
through this happy experience after Mrs. Lindley and we all followed its example, but quite in the
had talked with Kate, and Flo, and me about our other direction.
cabinet. And so our Secret Society was fairly After much talking and maneuvering, and by
started. dint of much poking with sticks and shooing"
We discussed badges and initiation fees, and and dodging, the coveted treasure was finally
many other features which were never accomplished, caught in Flo's calico sun-bonnet, and we stood as
and we promised a great many curiosities that we exultant as a party of hunters around a captured
failed to obtain; but then we had all the enjoyment wild beast.
of planning; and anticipation, you know, is the *But now who should carry it home ? Each one
next best thing to realization, declined in turn for good and sufficient reasons;
Saturday was our day for collecting. Bugs, but it was finally determined, after an animated
stones, shells, and all such things suddenly ac- discussion, that Flo should carry it the first part
quired new interest in our eyes; and we, who of the way, and then the rest of us would "take
knew nothing about chloroforming butterflies, turns." Flo kept the sun-bonnet tightly closed,
caused those unfortunate flutterers to lead a hard and we walked at a safe distance from it.
life, I fear, just before their death. But we talked So the triumphal procession started for home;
wisely about the poor things, and called them but just as Flo was climbing a rail-fence, a
martyrs to science, and so on. sudden leap from the dissatisfied toad in the sun-
It was on one of these Saturday excursions that bonnet was too much for her excited nerves; she
Flo startled us with a shout of joyful surprise, shook the bonnet with a little scream, and out



jumped Mr. Toad, in long leaps for freedom. We
all pounced upofn the escaped prisoner, and with
chips and sticks, and many a start and shriek,
endeavored to coax it into the bonnet again.
While thus engaged, a gentleman passing by be-
gan, to our great mortification, to lecture us for
cruelty to a poor defenseless toad. We wondered
if devotion to science had ever before been so un-
He laughed so derisively when Kate, with great
dignity, declared our purpose of putting the toad
into a cabinet, that our cheeks fairly tingled with
indignation. But somehow, after he had gone, our
ardor cooled. First one and then another cast
discredit upon our proposed specimen, and when,
at last, Kate was obliged to confess that she knew
nothing whatever of preparing toads for cabinets,
we set our captive free, and Flo reluctantly put
on her sun-bonnet.
Thenceforth we confined ourselves to inanimate


I /

I W11111 11


this thing and now that
proved unattractive.
But while we were in-
dustriously collecting curi-
osities, we were as dili-
gently preparing a place
in which to put them. We
had obtained a large but
shallow dry-goodsbox, and
by our united efforts had
succeeded in tugging and
rolling and dragging it
into a shed joining my
mother's kitchen,-- a place
at once convenient and re-
tired,- where, with hatch-
ets and a saw, boards and
nails, we became six girl-
carpenters. Not a boy,
from first to last, was called
to our assistance, for each
-- .- of us laughed at the idea
that she could not drive a
as any boy of her age; and
objects; but even with these we ranged from the so we hammered and sawed--sometimes our fin-
heights of ecstasy to the depths of despair, as now gers and feet, but generally boards.



All the time we could spare, and some, I fear,
that we should not have devoted to it, was spent in
that old shed. At first we purposed putting in five
shelves, and making double doors; but this plan
finallyresolved itself into three shelves and no doors.
With each new addition to our collection our
hopes grew brighter, and so did our day dreams.
One especially interesting specimen set us to
gravely discussing the propriety of giving a public
exhibition of our cabinet when completed; and
soon the day came when the last shelf was in.
Twelve cents' worth of wall-paper completed the
decorations, and the Secret Society stood survey-
ing its cabinet with flushed cheeks and quickened
pulses, seeing beauties in it that no one else could
possibly have detected.
It was a blissful Saturday when, having bor-
rowed a wheelbarrow, and placed our precious box
thereon, we wheeled it up the hill and through
the back alley to the school-house. We set it up
in the play-room, and arranged our curiosities as
artistically as possible. How we lingered and
started and turned back again to take just one
more look, or to bring into prominence some par-
ticularly engaging butterfly or curious stone! How

impatiently we waited for Monday morning Of
course, we six were first at school, and, with flushed
faces, eager eyes, and heads fairly swimming with
the rush of emotions, we watched for Mrs. Lindley's
coming. It was a proud moment for us when she
came; and, with two of us clasping her hands, and
the rest clustering around, we escorted her to our
cabinet. She praised and petted and laughed, as
we pointed out the peculiar beauties and excel-
lencies of different objects, and we felt amply
rewarded for all our toil.
I don't remember mich about it after that, but
I know that the older girls disappointed us keenly
by showing no interest in this tangible revelation of
our wonderful secret; the mosses, lichens, and some
other things soon fell out, and were tossed about
the play-room, and finally were swept out as litter;
and the double doors were never put on. All of
which seems rather sad in the telling, but did not
trouble us very much, I think. That state of
affairs came about gradually, and not until we had
derived very much pleasure from our cabinet; and
I am sure that no summer of our childhood was
happier than the one in which flourished "Our
Secret Society."



WHERE the Sun sails bold on the Sea of Gold
Past the Violet Islands fair,
And the ragged shapes of the Rosy Capes,
And the Castles of the Air,-
Can you call aright all that country bright,
That is washed by waves like flame ?
'T is the coast admired, 't is the clime desired,
Of the Land Without a Name.

And the way to go, if you fain would know,
Is to charter the Crescent Ship,
All of silver pale, with a cobweb sail,-
And merrily does she dip!
There 's a crew of Hopes at her filmy ropes,
And on board that ship of fame
Many a longing Dream seeks the shores agleam
Of the Land Without a Name.









THE day of our picnic proved to be all that we
could desire. The children were up with the
dawn, and Junior was not long in joining us. By
eight o'clock we were through with breakfast and
the morning work, our lunch-basket .was packed,
and the market wagon was at the door. Mr. Jones
had good-naturedly promised to take an occasional
look at the premises to see that all was right. I
put but one seat in the wagon, for my wife and
myself, since the young people had decided that a
straw-ride to the river would be "more fun than a
My wife entered into the spirit of this little out-
ing with a zest which gave me deep content. The
robins, of which there seemed to be hundreds
about the house, gave us a tuneful and hilarious
send-off; the people and children whom we met
smiled and cheered, following us with envious eyes.
Each of our little people held a pole aloft, and
Merton said that "the wagon looked as if our
lima-bean patch was off on a visit."
In the village we increased our stock of lines
and hooks, and bought a few corks for floats.
Soon after, we reached the mouth of Moodna
Creek, and a weather-beaten boat-house, with a
stable adjoining in which old Bay could enjoy
himself in his quiet, prosaic way. A comfortable
boat was hired, and, as the tide was in, we decided
to go up the creek as far as possible first and
float down with the ebb. This, to the children,
was like a voyage of discovery, and there was a
general airing of geography, each little bay, point,
and gulf receiving a noted name. At last we
reached a deep, shaded pool, which was eventually
dubbed Bobsey's Luck," for he narrowly escaped
falling into it in his eagerness to take off a minnow
that had managed to fasten itself to his hook.
Merton and Junior, being more experienced
anglers, went ashore to make some casts on the
ripples and rapids of the stream above, and secured
several fine "win-fish." The rest of us were con-
tent to take it easy in the shade, and hook an oc-
casional cat-fish and sun-fish. At last the younger
children wanted variety, so I permitted them to
land on the wooded bank, kindle a little fire, and
roast some clams that we had bought at the boat-
house. The smoke and tempting odors lured

Merton and Junior, who soon proved that boys'
appetites can always be depended upon.
Time passed rapidly, until I noticed that the
tide had fallen to such a degree that I cried in
alarm, "Come, youngsters, we must go back at
once or we shall have to stay here till nearly
night." They scrambled on board, and we started
down-stream, but soon dame to a place where the
swift current and ripples proved how shallow
was the water. A moment later we were hard
aground. In vain we pushed with the oars; the
boat would not budge. Then Junior sat down and
coolly began to take off his shoes and stockings.
In a flash Merton followed his example. There
was no help for it, and we had no time to lose.
Over they splashed, lightening the boat, and,
taking the painter," or tie-rope, at the bow,
they pulled manfully. Slowly at first, but with
increasing progress, the keel grated over the
stones, and at last we were afloat again. A round
of applause greeted the boys as they sprang back
into the boat, and away we went, cautiously avoid-
ing shoals and sand-bars, until we reached Plum
Point, where we expected to spend the remainder
of the day. Here, for a time, we had excellent
sport, and pulled up sun-fish and white perch of a
very fair size. Even Bobsey caught so many
specimens of the former variety that he had pro-
vided himself with a supper equal even to his
The day ended in memories of unalloyed pleas-
ure, and never had the old farm-house looked so
like home as when it greeted us again in the even-
ing glow of the late spring sun. Merton and Junior
divided the captured fishes with mutual satisfaction,
while Winnie and I visited the chicken-coops and
found that there had been no mishaps during our
absence. I told Merton that I would milk the cow
while he cleaned the fish for supper, and when at
last we sat down we formed a tired, happy, and
hungry group. Surely, if fish were created to be
eaten, our enjoyment of their browned sweetness
must have rounded out their existence completely.
The beautiful transition period of spring passing
into summer would have filled us with delight had
we not found a hostile army advancing on us -
the weeds. When we planted the garden, the
soil was brown and clean. The early vegetables
came up in well-defined green rows, the weeds ap-
pearing with them being too few and scattered to
cause anxiety. Now all was changed. Weeds



seemed to spring up by magic in a night. The
later-planted parts of the garden were becoming
evenly green in all their spaces, and in some cases
the vegetables could scarcely be distinguished from
the ranker growth of crowding, unknown plants
among and around them. I also saw that our corn
and potato field would soon become, if left alone,
as verdant as the meadow beyond. I began to fear
that we could not cope with these myriads of foes,
little enough now, but growing while we slept, and
stealing a march on us at one part of the place
while we destroyed them in another.
With a feeling of dismay I called Mr. Jones's
attention to these silent forces invading, not only
the garden and fields, but the raspberry plots, and,
indeed, all the ground now devoted to fruit. He
laughed and said:
The Philistines are upon you, sure enough.
I 'm busy whacking them over myself, but I think
I '11 have to give you a lift, for you must get
these weeds well under before haying and rasp-
berry-picking time comes. It's warm to-day,
and the ground 's rather dry. I '11 show you what
can be done. Call the children and come with me
to the garden."
We all were there soon, my wife, who shared my
solicitude, also joining us.
"You see," resumed Mr. Jones, that these
weakly little rows of carrots, beets, and onions would
soon be choked by these weeds, not an inch high
yet. The same is true of the corn and peas and
the rest. The potatoes are strong enough to take
care of themselves for a time, but not for long. I
see that you and Merton have been trying to weed
and hoe them out atthe same time. Well, you can't
keep up with the work in that way. Now take
this bed of beets; the weeds are getting' even all
over it, and they 're thicker, if anywhere, right in
the row, so that it takes a good eye to see the
beets. But here they are, and here they run
across the bed. Now look at me. One good
showing' is worth all the tellin' and reading' from now
to Christmas. You see, I begin with my two
hands, and pull out all the weeds on each side of
the little row, and I pull 'em away from the young
beets so as not to disturb them, but to leave 'em
standing straight. I drop the weeds right down
here in the spaces between the rows, for the sun
will dry 'em up before dinner-time. Now I'll
take another row."
.By this time Merton and I were following his
example, and within a few moments parts of three
more rows were being treated in the same way.
There," said Mr. Jones, now the weeds are
all out of the rows that we 've treated, and for a
little space on each side of 'em. The beets have a
chance to grow, unchoked, and to get ahead.

These other little green varmints in the ground,
between the rows, are too small to do any harm
yet. Practically, the beets are cleaned out, and
will have to themselves all the ground they need
for three or four days; but these weeds between
the rows would soon swamp everything. Now,
give me a hoe, and I '11 attend to them."
And he drew the useful tool carefully and evenly
through the spaces between the rows, and soon our
enemies were lying on their sides ready to wither
away in the morning sun.
You see, after the rows are weeded out how
quickly you can hoe the spaces between 'em," my
neighbor concluded. Now the children can do
this weedin'. Your time and Merton's is too valu'-
ble. When weeds are pulled from right in and
around vegetables, the last can stand without harm
for a while, till you can come around with the hoe
and cultivator. This weedin' out business is 'spe-
cially important in rainy weather, for it only hurts
ground to hoe or work it in wet, showery days,
and the weeds don't mind it a bit. On warm, sunny
days, when the soil 's a little dry, is the time to
kill weeds. But you must be careful in weedin'
then, or you 'll so disturb the young, tender garden
shoots that they '11 dry up, too. I'11 come over this
afternoon with my cultivator, and we '11 tackle the
corn and potatoes, and make such a swath among
these green Philistines that you'll sleep better to-
And he left us laughing and hopeful.
"Come, Winnie and Bobsey, start in here on
each side of me. I'11 show you our plan, this morn-
ing, and then I trust I can leave you to do the work
carefully by yourselves to-morrow. Pressing as is
the work, you shall have your afternoons until the
berries are ripe."
Can't I help, too ?" asked Mousie.
I looked into her eager, wistful face, but said
"Not now, dear. The sun is too hot. Toward
night, perhaps, I may let you do a little. By aiding
Mamma in the house, you are doing your part."
We made good progress, and the two younger
children soon learned the knack of working care-
fully, so as not to disturb the little vegetables. I
soon found that weeding was back-aching work for
me, and therefore spared myself by hoeing out
the spaces between the rows. By the time the
music of the dinner-bell was heard, hosts of our
enemies were slain.
Mr. Jones, true to his promise, was on hand at
one o'clock with his cultivator, and he started in at
the corn, which was now a few inches high. Mer-
ton and I followed with hoes, uncovering the ten-
der shoots on which earth had been thrown, and
dressing out the soil into clean flat hills.




Mr. Jones was not a man of half-way measi
He remained helping us, till he had gone thr<
the corn, once each way, twice between the
rows of potatoes, then twice through all the i
berry rows, giving us full two days of his
I handed him an extra dollar in addition t(
charge, saying that I had never paid out m
with greater satisfaction.
"Well," he said, with his short, dry la
" I '11 take it this time, for my work is sufferii
home, but I did n't want you to become disc
aged. Now, keep the hoes flyin' and you '11
ahead. Junior's at it early and late, I can tell y
It was a winning fight with the weeds, b
was weary work. One
hot afternoon, about
three o'clock, I saw that
Merton was growing
pale, and beginning to
lag, and I said deci-
dedly :
"Do you see that :
tree there? Go and
lie down under it till I
call you."
"Oh, I can stand it
till night," he began,:.
his pride little touched.
"Obeyorders! Iam
captain," I commanded.
In five minutes he
was fast asleep, and I Q I ED
threw my coat overhim,
and sat down, propos- STqArv aERl V
ing to have ahalf-hour's
rest myself. My wife
came out with a pitcher
of cool buttermilk and
nodded her head ap-
provingly at us.
"Well, my thought-
ful Eve," I said, "I find that
our modern Eden will cost Mer-
ton and me a great many back-
If you will only be as prudent always
as you try to be now, you may save me a
heart-ache. Robert, you are ambitious,
and unused to this kind of work. -Please
never be so foolish as to overrate the corn
tive value of corn and potatoes. I 'd rathe
with a few bushels less, than do without you
Merton." And she sat down and kept me idl
an hour.
Then Merton jumped up, saying that he fe
"fresh as if he had had a night's rest," and w

complished more in the cool of the day than if we
had kept doggedly at work.
I found that Winnie and Bobsey required rather
different treatment. For a while they did very
well, but one morning I set them at a bed of pars-
nips about which I
was particular. In
the middle of the "
forenoon I went to J T(AV/BFR5
the garden to see
how they were pro-
gressing. Shouts
of laughter made
me fear that all was
not well, and I soon -


para- discovered that they were throwing lumps of earth
r do at each other. So absorbed were they in their
and untimely and mischievous fun that I was not
e for noticed until I found Bobsey sitting plump on the
vegetables, and the rows behind both the children
lt as very shabbily cleaned, not a few of the little plants
e ac- having been pulled up with the weeds.


Without a word I marched them into the house,
and then said:
You are under arrest till night. Winnie, go to
your room. I shall strap Bobsey in his chair
and put him in the parlor by himself."
The exchange of the hot garden for the cool
rooms seemed rather an agreeable punishment at
first, although Winnie felt the disgrace keenly.
When, at dinner, only a cup. of water and a piece
of dry bread were taken to them, Bobsey began to
cry, and Winnie to look as if the affair were grow-
ing serious. Late in the afternoon, when she
found that she was not to gather the eggs nor feed
her beloved chickens, she, too, broke down and
sobbed that she "would n't do so any more."
Bobsey also pleaded so piteously for release, and
promised such a saint-like behavior, that I said:
Well, I shall remit the rest of your punishment
and put you on trial. You had no excuse for
your mischief this morning, for I allow you to play
the greater part of every afternoon, while Merton
must stand by me the whole of the week."
My touch of discipline brought up effectually
the morale of my little squad for a time. The
next afternoon even the memory of trouble was
banished by the finding of the first wild straw-
berries. There was exultation and universal in-
terest as clusters of .green and red berries were
handed about to be smelled and examined.
"Truly," my wife remarked, "even roses can
scarcely equal the fragrance of the wild straw-
From that day forward, for weeks, it seemed as
if we entered on a diet of strawberries and roses.
The old-fashioned bushes of the latter, near the
house, had been well trimmed, and in consequence
gave large, fine buds, while Winnie, Mousie,
and Bobsey gleaned every wild berry that could
be found, beginning with the sunny upland slopes
and following the aromatic fruit down to the cool,
moist borders of the creek.
"Another year," I said, "I think you will be
tired even of strawberries, for we shall have to
pick early and late."
The Saturday evening which brought us almost
to the middle of June was welcomed indeed. The
days preceding had been filled with hard, yet suc-
cessful, labor, and the weeds had been slaughtered
by the million. The greater part of our crops had
come up well and were growing nicely. In hoeing
the corn, we had planted over the few missing
hills, and now, like soldiers who had won the first
great success of the campaign, we were in a mood
to enjoy a rest to the utmost.
This rest seemed all the more delightful when,
the following morning, we awoke to the soft
patter of rain. The preceding days had been un-

usually dry and warm, and the grass and tender
vegetables were beginning to suffer. I was also
worrying about the raspberries, which were pass-
ing out of blossom. The cultivator had been
through them, and Merton and I, only the even-
ing before, had finished hoeing out the sprouting
weeds and surplus suckers. I had observed, with
dread, that just as the fruit was forming, the earth,
especially around the hills, was becoming dry.
Now, looking out, I saw that the needful water-
ing was not coming from a passing shower. The
clouds were leaden from horizon to horizon; the
rain fell with the gentle steadiness of a quiet sum-
mer storm, and had evidently been falling some
hours already. The air was so fragrant that I
threw wide open the door and windows. It was a
true June incense, such as no art could distill; and
when, at last, we all sat down to breakfast, of
which crisp radishes taken a few moments before
from our own garden formed a part, we felt that
nature was carrying on our work of the past week
in a way that filled our hearts with gratitude. The
air was so warm that we did not fear the damp-
ness. The door and windows were left open that
we might enjoy the delicious odors and listen to
the musical patter of the rain, which fell so softly
that the birds were quite as tuneful as on other
The children joined me, and my wife, putting
her hand on my shoulder, said laughingly:
You are not through with July and August
Mousie held her hands out in the warm rain,
saying, I feel as if it would make me grow, too.
Look at the green cherries up there, bobbing as the
drops hit them."
"Rain is n't good for chickens," Winnie re-
marked doubtfully.
It wont hurt them," I replied, for I have fed
them so well that they need n't go out in the wet
for food."
The clouds gave us a more and more copious
downfall as the day advanced, and I sat on the
porch resting, and watching with conscious grati-
tude how beautifully nature was furthering all our
labor, and fulfilling our hopes. This rain would
greatly increase the hay-crops for the old horse
and the cow. It would carry my vegetables rap-
idly toward maturity; and, best of all, would soak
the raspberry ground so thoroughly that the fruit
would be almost safe. What was true of our little
plot was equally so of neighbor Jones's farm, and
thousands of others. My wife sat with me much
of the day, and I truly think that our thoughts
were acceptable worship. By four in the afternoon
the western horizon lightened, the clouds soon
broke away, and the sun shone out briefly in un-




diminished splendor, turning the countless rain-
drops on foliage and grass literally into gems of
the purest water. The bird-songs seemed almost

In spite of the muddy walks, we picked our way
about the garden, exclaiming in pleased wonder
at the growth made by our vegetable nurslings in

ecstatic, and the voices of the children, permitted a few brief hours, while, across the field, the corn
at last to go out-of-doors, vied with them in glad- and potato rows showed green, strong outlines.
ness. I found that Brindle in the pasture had not
Let July and August--yes, and bleak January minded the rain in the least, but only appeared the
-bring what they may," I said to my wife, "nev- sleeker for it. When at last I came in to supper, I
ertheless, this is Eden." gave my wife a handful of berries, at which she and
VOL. XII.-42.



the children exclaimed. I had permitted a dozen
plants of each variety of my garden strawberries
to bear, that I might get some idea of the fruit.
The blossoms on the other plants had been picked
off as soon as they appeared, so that all the strength
might go toward forming new plants. I found that
a few of the berries of the two early kinds were ripe,
and also that the robins had been sampling them.
In size, at least, they seemed wonderful, compared
with the wild fruit from the field, and I said:
There will be lively times for us when we must
pick a dozen bushels of these a day, to send to Mr.
But the children thought it would be the great-
est fun in the world. By the time supper was
over, Mr. Jones and Junior appeared, and my
neighbor said in hearty good-will:
You got your cultivatin' done in the nick o'
time, Mr. Durham. This rain is a good hundred
dollars in your pocket-and mine, too."
I soon perceived that our enemies, the weeds,
had "millions in reserve," and on the Monday
after the rain, with all the children helping, even
Mousie part of the time, we went at the garden
again. To Mousie, scarcely an invalid any longer,
was given the pleasure of picking the first mess
of green peas and shelling them for dinner.
As the ground dried after the rain, a slight
crust formed on the surface, and in the wetter
portions it was even inclined to bake or crack. I
was surprised at the almost magical effect of break-
ing up the crust and making the soil loose and
mellow by cultivation. The letting in of air and
light caused the plants to grow with wonderful
One Wednesday morning Merton came running
in, exclaiming, "0, Papa! there's a green worm
eating all the leaves off the currant and gooseberry
I followed him hastily, and found that consider-
able mischief had been done already, and I went
to one of my fruit-books in a hurry, to find out
how to cope with this new enemy. As a result,
I mixed a heaping table-spoonful of hellebore
through the contents of a watering-can, on which
I had painted the word "Poison." With this
infusion I sprinkled thoroughly every bush on
which I could find a worm, and the next morn-
ing we had the pleasure of finding most of the
invaders dead. But either some escaped or new
ones were hatched out, and we found that we
could save our currants only by constant vigilance.
An evening or two after this, we were taught
that not even in our retired nook had we escaped
the dangers of city life. Winnie and Bobsey,
in their rambles after strawberries, had met two
other children, and, early in the acquaintance,

fortunately, brought them to the, house. The
moment I saw the strange girl, I recognized a
rural example of the Melissa Daggett type, while
the urchin of Bobsey's age did not scruple to use
vile language in my hearing. I doubt if the poor
little savage had any better vernacular. I told
them kindly but firmly that they must not come
on the place again without my permission.
After supper I went over and asked Mr. Jones
about these children, and he replied significantly,
looking around first to make sure that no one
heard him:
Mr. Durham, steer clear of those people. You
know there are certain varmints on a farm to which
we give a wide berth, and kill 'em when we can.
Of course we can't kill off this family, although a
good contribution could be taken up any day to
move 'em a hundred miles away. Still about
everybody gives 'em a wide berth, and is civil to
their faces. They '1l rob you more or less, and
you might as well make up your mind to it, and
let 'em alone."
Suppose I don't let them alone ? I asked.
"Well, there have been barns burned around
here. Everybody's satisfied as to who set 'em afire,
but nothing' can be proved, Your cow or horse,
too, might suddenly die. There 's no tellin' what
might happen if you should get their ill-will."
"I can't take the course you suggest toward this
family," I said, after a little thought. It seems
to me wrong on both sides. On one hand, they are
treated as outlaws, and that would go far toward
making them such; on the other, they are per-
mitted to commit crime with impunity. Of course
I must keep my children away from them; but, if
the chance offers, I shall show the family kind-
ness,-and if they molest me, I shall try to give
them the law to the utmost."
"Well," concluded Mr. Jones, with a shrug,
"I 've warned you; if they get down on you,
you 'll find 'em snakes in the grass."
Returning home, I said nothing to Winnie and
Bobsey against their recent companions, but told
them that if they went with them again, or made
the acquaintance of other strangers without per-
mission, they would be put on bread and water for
an entire day that all such action was positively
It was evident, however, that the Melissa Dag-
gett element was present in the country, and in an
aggravated form. The redeeming feature was, that
it was not next door, or, rather in the next room.
In the country, wide spaces usually separate us
from evil association.
It must not be thought that my wife and children
had no society except that afforded by Mr. Jones's
family. On the contrary, they were gradually mak-




ing many pleasant and useful acquaintances, espe-
cially among the people we met at church; but
as these people have no material part in this
simple history, they are not mentioned.
The most important active operations of the
season were now drawing very near. The cherries

were swelling fast, the
red, and were already
voted "nice for pies,"
and one morning Mer-
ton came rushing in with
a red raspberry from the
Highland Hardy vari-
ety. I was glad the time
was at hand when I
should begin to receive
something besides ad-
vice from Mr. Bogart;
for, careful as we had
been, the drain on my
capital had been long
and steady, and we were
eager for the turn of the

currants were growing

On the last day of June we gathered a crate of
early raspberries and eight baskets of cherries.
In the cool of the afternoon, these were placed in
the wagon, and with my wife and the three younger
children, I drove to the Maizeville landing with our
first shipment to Mr. Bogart.
"We are p'o-ducers,' at last, as Bobsey said," I
cried, joyously. And I trust that
S this small beginning will end in
loads so big that they will leave
us no room for wife and children,
but will eventually give them a car-
riage to ride in."
Merton remained on guard to
watch our precious and ripening

I had bought a num- -NiqiB~"
ber of old Mr. Jamison's .f..Io ATh "',
crates, had painted out
his name and replaced P -
it with mine. I now l
wrote to Mr. Bogart, for t 4 i
packages best adapted
for shipping cherries,
currants, and raspber-
ries. For the cherries,
he sent me baskets that
held about a peck.
These baskets were so
cheap that they could
be sold with the fruit.
For currants, crates con-
taining twenty-four
quart baskets, were for- /,IA"
warded. These, he "'O-DUCERS' AT LAST!
wrote, would also do for
blackcaps that season, and for strawberries the next After our departure, Merton began a vigilant
year. For the red raspberries, he sent me quite dif- patrol of the place, feeling much like a sentinel
ferent crates, filled with little baskets holding only left on guard. About sundown, he told me, as he
half a pint of fruit. By the time when we had was passing through the raspberry field, he thought
again cleared the corn and potatoes of weeds, he caught a glimpse of an old straw hat dodging
some of our grass was fit to cut, the raspberries down behind the bushes. He bounded toward
needed a careful picking over, and the cherries the spot, a moment later confronting three
were ready for market. children with tin pails. The two younger proved
I had long since decided not to attempt to carry to be Winnie's objectionable acquaintances that
on haying alone at this critical season, but dur- I had told to keep off the place. The eldest
ing the last days of June had hired old Mr. Fergur- was a boy, not far from Merton's age, who had
son, who came at moderate wages, and put in his justly won the name of being the worst boy in
scythe on the uplands. the region. All were the children of the dan-



gerous neighbor against whom Mr. Jones had
warned me.
The boy at first regarded Merton with a sullen,
defiant look, while his brother and sister coolly
continued to steal the fruit.
Clear out! cried Merton. We'll have you
put in jail if you come here again."
"You clear out yerself," said the boy, threat-
eningly, "or I 'll make ye. Yer folks 're away,
and we're not afraid of you. What's more, we're
goin' ter have some cherries before--"
Now, Merton had a quick temper, and, at this
assertion, he sprang so quickly at the fellow who
was adding insult to injury, that he struck the thief
a severe blow in the face.
Then they clinched, and, although his antagonist
was the heavier, Merton thinks he could have mas-
tered him had not the two younger marauders also
attacked him like cats, tooth and nail. Finding
himself getting the worst of it, he instinctively sent

out a cry for his stanch friend Junior. Fortunately,
Junior was coming along the road toward our
house, and he gave an answering halloo.
The invaders, apparently, had a wholesome fear
of John Jones, Junior; for, on hearing his voice,
they beat a hurried retreat. But knowing that no
one was at the house, in the spirit of revengeful
mischief, they took their flight in that direction; see-
ing Mousie's flower-bed, they ran and jumped upon
that, breaking down half the plants; and then they
dashed off through the coops, releasing the hens,
and scattering the broods of chickens. Merton and
Junior, who for a few moments had lost sight of
them in the thick raspberry bushes, were now in
hot pursuit, and surely would have caught them,
had they not just then spied a man coming up the
lane, accompanied by a big dog. Junior laid a
hand on headlong Merton, whose blood was now
at boiling heat, and said quickly:
"Stop "

(To be continued.)



C hlot/ild of Burgundy o

The Girt of the French Jgpcardr

1, L. '*. iC_,:,,:.K:-.

di,:d i. -bt r-

C.,. t 4, \ r,.

S~l 4-5, i5 'lj'
a % little girl
and terrified, at the feet of a pitying priest in
the palace of the Kings of Burgundy. There has
been many a sad little maid of ten, before and since
the days of the fair-haired Princess Clotilda, but
surely none had greater cause for terror and tears
than she. For her cruel uncle, Gundebald, waging
war against his brother Chilperic, the rightful King
of Burgundy, had with a band of savage followers
burst into his brother's palace and, after the fierce
and relentless fashion of those cruel days, had mur-
dered King Chilperic, the father of little Clotilda,
the Queen, her mother, and the young Princes,
her brothers; and was now searching for her and
her sister Sedelenda, to kill them also.
Poor Sedelenda had hidden away in some other
far-off corner; but even as Clotilda clung for pro-
tection to the robe of the good stranger-priest Ugo

.:.f Ri,-ii,: I .,.h.:r ihe K iri:. -, 1.r Ilirlii. I-i r- lo.lged
ci [hIli pal:,- c r. :.r. h,:,h i *' i d .1' l i-', 1 rom
.-ru I-.i: i, rli) .:*,l ,i:,[i :r,-r l t.hie.' i, -.ji.-ir and
-r',,.rr T!ir..u, l hi il- c:.iri'j,.r ,:' ,i'.:* lh,: ri-ih of
I- i-, i rloi ii- rhe dj:t,,!-., ,.i .1- i!ule' flung
-.1d:. : in l h. p,:,:r chil. h,: r: pouir ,ur;, jrlt her
.:,Tl' ,l trr_-1- ;*.. l'lA .r r ht .1J, ', i m-r-,:l -r.,: ti.- -oin']r .
"" H ,:,llu H ,:ic ,. -.. h l-nn ]" !,,- ,:ci ed in
i."-' t ',5 .Llt k i-i,. *" T hruii Ihor r. 1; h.!ir F'riest,
or thou diest in her stead. Not one of the tyrant's
brood shall live. I say it "
"And who art thou to judge of life or death? "
demanded the priest sternly, as he still shielded
the trembling child.
I am Gundebald, King of Burgundy by the
grace of mine own good sword and the right of
succession," was the reply. Trifle not with me,
Sir Priest, but thrust away the child. She is my
lawful prize to do with as I will. Ho, Sigebert,
drag her forth "
Quick as a flash the brave priest stepped before
the cowering child, and, with one hand still resting
protectingly on the girl's fair hair, he raised the
other in stern and fearless protest, and boldly
faced the murderous throng.
Back, men of blood he cried. Back Nor
dare to lay hand on this young maid who hath
here sought sanctuary!"
Fierce and savage men always respect bravery

*Under the Goths and Franks the protection of churches and priests, when extended to persons in peril, was called the "right ot
sanctuary," and was respected even by the fiercest of pursuers.
Copyright, 1884, by E. S. Brooks. All rights reserved.



in. others. There was something so courageous
and heroic in the act of that single priest in thus
facing a ferocious and determined band, in defense
of a little girl,- for girls were but slightingly re-
garded in those far-off days,--that it caught the
savage fancy of the cruel King. And this, joined
with his respect of the Church's right of sanctuary,
and with the lessening of his thirst for blood, now
that he had satisfied his first desire for revenge, led
him to desist.
"So be it then," he said, lowering his threaten-
ing sword. I yield her to thee, Sir Priest. Look
to her welfare and thine own. Surely a girl can do
no harm."
But King Gundebald and his house lived to
learn how far wrong was that unguarded state-
ment. For the very lowering of the murderous
sword that thus brought life to the little Princess
Clotilda meant the downfall of the kingdom of
Burgundy and the rise of the great and victorious
nation of France. The memories of even a little
maid of ten are not easily blotted out.
Her sister, Sedelenda, had found refuge and
safety in the convent of Ainay, near at hand, and
there, too, Clotilda would have gone, but her uncle,
the new King, said: "No, the maidens must be
forever separated." He expressed a willingness,
however, to have the Princess Clotilda brought up
in his palace, which had been her father's, and
requested the priest Ugo of Rheims to remain
awhile, and look after the girl's education. In
those days a king's request was a command, and
the good Ugo, though stern and brave in the face
of real danger, was shrewd enough to know that it
was best for him to yield to the King's wishes. So
he continued in the palace of the King, looking
after the welfare of his little charge, until suddenly
the girl took matters into her own hands, and
decided his future and her own.
The kingdom of Burgundy, in the days of the
Princess Clotilda, was a large tract of country now
embraced by southern France and western Switzer-
land. It had been given over by the Romans to
the Goths, who had invaded it in the year 413. It
was a land of forest and vineyards, of fair valleys
and sheltered hill-sides, and of busy cities that the
fostering hand of Rome had beautified; while
through its broad domain the Rhone, pure and
sparkling, swept with a rapid current from Swiss
lake and glacier, southward to the broad and beau-
tiful Mediterranean. Lyons was its capital, and
on the hill of Fourviere, overlooking the city be-
low it, rose the marble palace of the Burgundian
kings, near to the spot where, to-day, the ruined
forum of the old Roman days is still shown to
It had been a palace for centuries. Roman

governors of "Imperial Gaul" had made it their
head-quarters and their home; three Roman Em-
perors had cooed and cried as babies within its
walls; and it had witnessed also many a feast
and foray, and the changing fortunes of Roman,
Gallic, and Burgundian conquerors and over-lords.
But it was no longer home to the little Princess
Clotilda. She thought of her father and mother,
and of her brothers, the little Princes with whom
she had played in this very palace, as it now
seemed to her, so many years ago. And the more
she feared her cruel uncle, the more did she desire
to go far, far away from his presence. So, after
thinking the whole matter over, as little girls of
ten can sometimes think, she told her good friend
Ugo, the priest, of her father's youngest brother
Godegesil, who ruled the dependent principality
of Geneva, far up the valley of the Rhone.
Yes, child, I know the place," said Ugo. "A
fair city indeed, on the blue and beautiful Lake
Lemanus, walled in by mountains, and rich in corn
and vineyards."
"Then let us fly thither," said the girl. "My
uncle Godegesil I know will succor us, and I shall
be freed from my fears of King Gundebald."
Though it seemed at first to the good priest
only a child's desire he learned to think better
of it when he saw how unhappy the poor girl
was in the hated palace, and how slight were
her chances for improvement. And so, one fair
spring morning in the year 486, the two slipped
quietly out of the palace; and by slow and cautious
stages, with help from friendly priests and nuns,
and frequent rides in the heavy ox-wagons that
were the only means of transport other than horse-
back, they finally reached the old city of Geneva.
And on the journey, the good Ugo had made the
road seem less weary, and the lumbering ox-wagons
less jolty and painful, by telling his bright young
charge of all the wonders and relics he had
seen in his journeyings in the East; but especi-
ally did the girl love to hear him tell of the boy
king of the Franks, Hlodo-wig, or Clovis, who lived
in the priest's own boyhood home of Tournay, in
far-off Belgium, and who, though so brave and
daring, was still a pagan, when all the world was
fast becoming Christian. And as Clotilda listened,
she wished that she could turn this brave young
chief away from his heathen deities, Thor and Odin,
to the worship of the Christians' God; and, revolv-
ing strange fancies in her mind, she determined
what she would do when she "grew up,"--as
many a girl since her day has determined. But
even as they reached the fair city of Geneva-
then half Roman, half Gallic, in its buildings and
its life the wonderful news met them how this
boy-king Clovis, sending a challenge to combat to



s885.] HISTORIC GIRLS. 663

the prefect Syagrius, the last of the Roman govern-
ors, had defeated him in battle at Soissons, and
broken forever the power of Rome in Gaul.
War, which is never anything but terrible, was
doubly so in those savage days, and the plun-
der of the captured cities and homesteads was
the chief return for
which the, barba-
rian soldiers fol- -
lowed their lead-
ers. But when the
Princess Clo-
tilda heard '
how, even in
the midst I I
of his (
burning Iii i I i|iI


and plundering, the young Frankish chief spared
some of the fairest Christian churches, he became
still more her hero; and again the desire to
convert him from paganism and to revenge her
father's murder took shape in her mind. For,
devout and good though she was, this excellent
little maiden of the year 485 was by no means
the gentle-hearted girl of 1885, and, like most
of the world about her, had but two desires: to
become a good church-helper, and to be revenged

on her enemies. Certainly, fourteen centuries of
progress and education have made us more loving
and less vindictive.
But now that the good priest Ugo of Rheims
saw that his own homeland was in trouble, he felt
that there lay his duty. And Godegesil, the

king of
S- feeling uneasy
alike from the
/ '- nearness of this boy
conqueror and the pos-
sible displeasure of his
brother and over-lord,
King Gundebald, de-
clined longer to shelter
XT PAGE.) his niece in his palace
at Geneva.
"And why may I not go with you?" the girl
asked of Ugo; but the good priest knew that a
conquered and plundered land was no place to
which to convey a young maid for safety, and the
Princess, therefore, found refuge among the sisters
of the Church of St. Peter in Geneva. And
here she passed her girlhood, as the record says,
"in works of piety and charity."
So four more years went by. In the north, the
boy chieftain, reaching manhood, had been raised



aloft on the shields of his fair-haired and long-
limbed followers, and with many a hael! and
shout had been proclaimed King of the Franks."
In the south, the young Princess Clotildar now
nearly sixteen, had washed the feet of pilgrims,
ministered to the poor, and, after the manner of
her day, had proved herself a zealous church-
worker in that low-roofed convent near the old
church of St. Peter, high on that same hill in Gen-
eva where to-day, hemmed in by narrow streets and
tall houses, the cathedral of St. Peter, twice re-
builded since Clotilda's time, overlooks the quaint
city, the beautiful lake of Geneva, and the rushing
Rhone, and sees across the valley of the Arve the.
gray and barren rocks of the Petit S616ve and the
distant snows of Mont Blanc.
One bright summer day, as the young Princess
passed into the hospitiunm, or guest-room for poor
pilgrims, attached to the convent, she saw there a
stranger, dressed in rags. He had the wallet and
staff of a mendicant, or begging pilgrim, and,
coming toward her, he asked for charity in the
name of the blessed St. Peter, whose church thou
serves. "
The young girl brought the pilgrim food, and
then, according to the custom of the day, kneel-
ing on the earthen floor, she began to bathe his
feet. But as she did so, the pilgrim, bending for-
ward, said in a low voice:
Lady, I have great matters to announce to thee,
if thou deign to permit me to reveal them."
Pilgrims in those days were frequently made the
bearers of special messages between distantfriends;
but this poor young orphan princess could think of
no one from whom a message to her might come.
Nevertheless, she simply said: Say on."
In the same low tone the beggar continued:
Clovis, King of the Franks, sends thee greeting."
The girl looked up now, thoroughly surprised.
This beggar must be a madman, she thought.
But the eyes of the pilgrim looked at her re-
assuringly, and he said: "In token whereof, he
sendeth thee this ring by me, his confidant and
comitatus,* Aurelian of Soissons."
The Princess Clotilda took, as if in a dream, the
ring of transparent jacinth set in solid gold, and
asked quietly:
"What would the King of the Franks with
"The King, my master, hath heard from the
holy Bishop Remi and the good priest Ugo of thy
beauty and discreetness," replied Aurelian; "and
likewise of the sad condition of one who is the
daughter of a royal line. He bade me use all my
wit to come nigh to thee, and to say that, if it be

the will of the gods, he would fain raise thee to his
rank by marriage."
Those were days of swift and sudden surprises,
when kings made up their minds in royal haste,
and princesses were not expected to be surprised
at whatever they might hear. And so we must
not feel surprised to learn that all the dreams of
her younger days came into the girl's mind, and
that, as the record states, she accepted the ring
with great joy."
Return promptly to thy lord," she said to the
messenger, "and bid him, if he would fain unite
me to him in marriage, to send messengers without
delay to demand me of mine uncle, King Gunde-
bald, and let those same messengers take me away
in haste, so soon as they shall have obtained per-
For this wise young Princess knew that her
uncle's word was not to be long depended upon,
and she feared, too, that certain advisers at her
uncle's court might counsel him to do her harm
before the messengers of King Clovis could have
conducted her beyond the borders of Burgundy.
Aurelian, still in his pilgrim's disguise, for he
feared discovery in a hostile country, hastened
back to King Clovis, who, the record says, was
"pleased with his success and with Clotilda's
notion, and at once sent a deputation to Gunde-
bald to demand his niece in marriage."
As Clotilda foresaw, her uncle stood in too much
dread of this fierce young conqueror of the North to
say him nay. And soon, in the palace at Lyons, so
full of terrible memories to this orphan girl, the
courteous Aurelian, now no longer in beggar's rags,
but gorgeous in white silk and a flowing sagum, or
mantle of vermilion, publicly engaged himself, as
the representative of King Clovis, to the Princess
Clotilda; and, according to the curious custom of
the time, cemented the engagement by giving to
the young girl a sou and a denier.
Now deliver the Princess into our hand, O
King," said the messenger, "that we may take
her to King Clovis, who waiteth for us even now
at Chalons to conclude these nuptials."
So, almost before he knew what he was doing,
King Gundebald had bidden his niece farewell;
and the Princess, with her escort of Frankish spears,
was rumbling away in a clumsy basterne, or covered
ox-wagon, toward the frontier of Burgundy.
But the slow-moving ox-wagon by no means
suited the impatience of this shrewd young Prin-
cess. She knew her uncle, the King of Burgundy,
too well. When once he was roused to -action, he
was fierce and furious.
Good Agrelian," she said at length to the

* One of the King's special body-guard, from which comes the title Compt or Count.
t Two pieces of old French coin, equaling about a cent and a mill in American money.




King's ambassador, who rode by her side; if that
thou wouldst take me into the presence of thy lord,
the King of the Franks, let me descend from this
carriage, mount me on horseback, and let us speed
hence as fast as
we may, for never
''' in this carriage
'. J shall I reach the
',r' presence -of my
lord, the King."
And none too
soon was her ad-
." vice acted upon;
for the counselors
Sof King Gunde-
bald, noticing Clo-
tilda's anxiety to

If Clotilda become powerful, be sure she will
avenge the wrong thou hast wrought her."
And forthwith the King sent off an armed band,
with orders to bring back both the Princess and
the treasure he had sent with her as her marriage
portion. But already the Princess and her escort
were safely across the Seine, where, in the Cam-
pania, or plain-country,- later known as the
Province of Champagne,- she met the King of
the Franks.
I am sorry to be obliged to confess that the first
recorded desire of this beautiful, brave, and de-
vout young maiden, when she found herself safely
among the fierce followers of King Clovis, was a
request for vengeance. But we must remember,
girls and boys, that this is a story of half-savage
days when, as I have already said, the desire

Aj -I


be gone, concluded that, after all, they had made for revenge on one's enemies was common to
a mistake in betrothing her to King Clovis. all.
"Thou shouldst have remembered, my lord," From the midst of his skin-clad and green-robed
they said, "that thou didst slay Clotilda's father, guards and nobles, young Clovis in a dress of
her mother, and the young Princes, her brothers. crimson and gold, and milk-white silk," and with


,,,, -. ,
C,,' ..f/ -__

I z 1I .
~ ~ ~ ~ --., .: ,f,lI.
-"' -, Zs



his yellow hair coiled in a great top-knot on his
uncovered head advanced to meet his bride.
My lord King," said Clotilda, the bands of
the King of Burgundy follow hard upon us to bear
me off. Command, I pray thee, that these, my es-
cort, scatter themselves right and left for two-score
miles, and plunder and burn the lands of the King
of Burgundy."
Probably in no other way could this wise young
girl of seventeen have so thoroughly pleased the
fierce and warlike young king. He gladly ordered
her wishes to be carried out, and the plunderers
forthwith departed to carry out the royal command.
So her troubles were ended, and this Prince
and Princess,- Hlodo-wig, or Clovis (meaning the
"warrior youth"), and Hlodo-hilde, or Clotilda
(meaning the "brilliant and noble maid"),-in
spite of the wicked uncle Gundebald, were married
at Soissons, in the year 493, and, as the fairy stories
say, "lived happily together ever after."
The record of their later years has no place in
this sketch of the girlhood of Clotilda; but it is one
of the most interesting and dramatic of the old-
time historic stories. The dream of that sad little
princess in the old convent at Geneva, to make
her boy-hero a Christian, and to be revenged on
the murderer of her parents," was in time fulfilled.
For on Christmas Day, in the year 493, the young
King and three thousand of his followers were
baptized amid gorgeous ceremonial in the great
church of St. Martin at Rheims.
The story of the young Queen's revenge is not to
be told in these pages. But, though terrible, it is

only one among the many tales of vengeance that
show us what fierce and cruel folk our ancestors
were, in the days when passion instead of love ruled
the hearts of men and women, and of boys and
girls as well; and how favored are we of this nine-
teenth century, in all the peace and prosperity and
home happiness that surround us.
But from this conversion, as also from this re-
venge, came the great power of Clovis and Clo-
tilda; for, ere his death, in the year 5 11, he brought
all the land under his sway from the Rhine to the
Rhone, the ocean and the Pyrenees; he was hailed
by his people with the old Roman titles of Consul
and Augustus, and reigned victorious as the first
King of France. Clotilda, after years of wise
counsel and charitable works, upon which her
determination for revenge seems to be the only
stain, died long after her husband, in the year
545, and to-day, in the city of Paris, which was
even then the capital of new France, the church
of St. Clotilda stands as her memorial, while her
marble statue may be seen by the traveler in the
great palace of the Luxembourg.
A typical girl of those harsh old days of long
ago,--loving and generous toward her friends, un-
forgiving and revengeful to her enemies,- reared
in the midst of cruelty and of charity, she did her
duty according to the light given her, made France
a Christian nation, and so helped on the progress
of civilization. Certainly a place among the world's
Historic Girls may rightly be accorded to this fair-
haired young Princess of the summer-land of
France, the beautiful Clotilda of Burgundy.



"OH, dear! sighed Johnny, as he threw him-
self down on the ground one Saturday morning, all
out of breath after his long run to the woods, where
he had gone to get rid of the very sight and sound
of teachers and books. How I wish I could camp
out here for the summer, like that anemone over
there; that is, as long as there is any blue sky."
Is the sky blue ?" asked a little voice near him,
very plaintively.
It was the Anemone.
Why, don't you see how blue it is? answered
How can I see, when I have n't any eyes? "

That's so! you have n't any eyes; I never
thought of that. Still, it seems to me you have
rather a nice thing of it out here, anyhow; plenty
of cool air and shade, with just enough sunshine."
Yes," said the the little flower, wistfully; it's
very nice, all except the bears."
"Bears exclaimed Johnny. "Why, you're
not afraid of a bear, are you? Bears don't care
anything about anemones; no bear would run
after you! "
No; he would n't run after me, but he might
run over me, you see; and that 's why I 'm afraid
of them."




"But ,there are n't any bears here," said Johnny.
How do you know that ? asked the Anemone.
Why, I 've read about bears in books, and my
teachers have told me something about them, too.
There are grizzly bears out in the Rocky mountains,
and polar bears up in the Arctic regions; but there
are n't any bears at all in these woods."
Dear me said the Anemone. "How splen-
did it must be to be able to know things If you
only knew what a load you have taken off my
mind! So your teacher told you that; do you
suppose I could hire a teacher to come out here
and teach me ? "
"I don't know," answered Johnny, doubtfully.
" I guess not; teachers have to be paid, you know,
and you don't earn any money, I suppose? "
No," said the little flower, ruefully. I can't
earn money; can you? "
"Yes, indeed! perfect heaps of it, shoveling
snow and weeding the garden, and such things.
But then I don't have to pay the teacher with
that; Papa pays the teacher. I spend my money
for candy and things. When I 'm a man, I expect
to earn money enough to have everything I want."
"Dear me! what would I not give for such a
chance as yours," said the Anemone. "I should
like so much to learn things; you don't happen to
know any teacher who would come and teach me
for nothing, do you? "
"No," said Johnny, decidedly, "I don't. But
I '11 tell you what I could do: I could bring some
of the boys out here to tell you things."
And do they know a great deal?"
Well, we don't know as much as the teachers,
of course; but we know more,"-Johnny hes-
itated a moment, trying to put the matter as deli-
cately as possible,-" we know more than some
"And do you learn something every day? "
"Yes," said Johnny, after a moment's reflection;
: we learn something every day."
Then by and by you '11 know a lot?"
"Yes, indeed," asserted Johnny, more confi-
dently this time. When I 'm a man, I shall
probably know all there is to be known."
Dear me! What a chance! But when will
you bring the boys ? "
"Next Saturday, perhaps."
"Next Saturday! exclaimed the little flower
in dismay. "Why I sha'n't be alive next Satur-
day! I only live, twenty-four hours, you know.
How many hours do you live? "
Hours! exclaimed Johnny. "Why, I hope
to live seventy-five years, and may be I shall live
longer than that."
"Seventy-five years to live to learn things in !
-and a teacher too Oh, what a chance !"

"Well, it's evident you ought to begin your
education at once," said Johnny, with decision.
"As you have n't much time to spare, don't you
think,"- again Johnny hesitated a moment; then
he asked, a little doubtfully:
Would you mind being picked ?"
"Would I mind being picked !" shrieked the
Anemone. "How would you like to have your
head snapped off? "
Not very well; but you seemed so anxious to
learn "
That's very true," said the Anemone thought-
fully. "It's worth a good deal of a sacrifice. It
was such a relief to know about the bears! and
I suppose, if you could n't learn things any other
way, you'would be willing to have a leg or an arm
cut off, would n't you ? "
"Well," said Johnny, evading the question,
"I was just thinking that if you did n't mind being
picked, I could take you home to Mother; and
just by hearing her talk, you would learn heaps
of things."
Mother?" asked the Anemone, lifting her lit-
tle face eagerly. What is a mother ? "
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Johnny. "Not
to know what a mother is! I'm sure I don't
know how to tell you about her; you have to have
a mother to know what she is. She's a dreadful
thing not to have. I suppose you're like Topsy,
and just growed'? "
"Is Topsy your sister ?"
No, indeed; Topsy is a story," explained
"But how do you know stories ?"
"Why, I read them," said Johnny.
"And do your teachers teach you to read ?"
"Yes," said Johnny, reluctantly, conscious that
he was confessing a great deal of indebtedness to
the very teachers and books he had "just hated"
so, that very morning.
"I think you may pick me," said the little
Anemone softly. It may hurt me some, but I
would rather know something before I die. Please
pick me right away, and take me home to your
"I'll tell you what I could do," suggested
Johnny. I could take you up, roots and all, with-
out picking you off the stem, and carry you home
in my basket. And if any one can make you live
a little longer than twenty-four hours, Mother can."
you dear, lovely boy I" said the grateful
little Anemone, as Johnny lifted it carefully into
his basket, roots and all. Now you can talk to
me all the way, and tell me things; for, as you
say, I have n't any time to spare."
'"Well," said Johnny as he trudged along,
"I'm sure I did n't think I should ever be a



teacher. Do you know,"-he paused again,
in his endeavor to speak very politely,- "do you
know anything ?"
"Not much," said the little flower humbly.
"I only know what you 've told me this morning."
"Well, that 's something to begin with," said
Johnny, encouragingly. "I don't always know
what my teacher has told me in the morning.
Dear me! that reminds me; he did tell me this
morning that if I were going to the woods to-day,
he wished I would bring him an anemone for his
collection. Now, if you like, you can be pressed
and put into a book, and have your name written
under you, and be shown to lots and lots of chil-

dren; and then, don't you see, you '11 be a teacher,
too; and, between you and me, it's a great deal
better fun to teach than to learn! "
"Is it?" said the Anemone, eagerly. I like
learning so much, that it does n't seem as if I could
like teaching any better. But I think I shall let
you press me and put me in the book "
And when Johnny brought his teacher the
Anemone, and told him about it, the teacher smiled,
and wrote on the black-board as the day's motto for
all the children to learn by heart: "Remember,
nothing is so insignificant but it may teach some-
thing, and no one so wise but he may learn some-
thing! "



NIGHT is here, night is here;
Lullaby, oh, baby dear.
Now the crickets carol shrill,
Fairies dance on moonlit hill,
In the forest dark and green
Merry elfins sport unseen.
Lullaby, oh, baby dear;
Night is here.

Singing low, singing low,
Little night-winds come and go;
Hear their footsteps as they pass
Softly o'er the dewy grass.
Nearer now, and now away
In the dusky trees at play,
Little night-winds come and go,
Singing low.

Hush, my love! hush, my love!
For the bright moon shines above;
Starlets blink their yellow eyes
All night long in peaceful skies;
All night long their watch they keep,-
Lullaby, oh, baby, sleep.
Now the bright moon shines above;
Hush, my love!

Angels white, angels white,
Guard my pretty babe to-night;
Softly o'er his cradle lean,
Tell him of your home unseen,
Where there is no night nor gloom,
Where unfading flowers bloom.'
Guard my pretty babe to-night,
Angels white.







ELI BADGER'S chief feeling, when he saw what
he and his hickory cane had accomplished, was
not pity for his victim,-whom he might have
thought rightly served, whatever the result,- but
alarm at his own share in the affair.
To be summoned before the court to answer the
charge of soundly beating a boy caught pillaging his
vines, was something he had generally thought he
could stand, if the boy could. But breaking skulls,
in punishment for the offense of stealing a few grapes,
was quite another thing. And he was not certain
that this boy had touched a cluster.
"Who are ye ? Why don't ye speak ?" he said,
trying to get the boy into a sitting- posture.
" None of your make-believe with me "
But the boy would not sit; and it was soon too
painfully apparent that there was no "make-
believe in the business. Something warm and
wet dropped from the still face upon his hand;
and he was filled with consternation.
He lifted the limp and nerveless body, and was
not relieved when he found what a mere lad he had
set upon with his cruel bludgeon. If he had
knocked down a man, like himself, it would n't
have seemed quite so bad.
It was a sorry job for Eli, who foresaw that it
might cost him much money and more trouble.
But he was not so brutal a person as many be-
lieved. He had not intended to hurt the boy so
badly, and he now carefully lifted the unconscious
Christopher and carried him to the house.
Mrs. Eli Badger was washing the supper dishes
at the kitchen sink, and Miss Lydia Badger (aged
seventeen) was wiping them, by the light of a
kerosene lamp, when the door was burst open, and
in came the husband and father bearing his burden!
The shock of the spectacle, as the lamplight
shone on Kit's insensible form, cost the family a
plate, which escaped from Miss Lydia's hand and
fell clattering to the floor. Mrs. Badger dropped
her dish-rag and ejaculated:
"The land What's the matter ? "
"I 've hit a boy I caught hookin' grapes,"
said Eli. I 'm 'fraid he 's hurt. Make room on
the lounge there "
"Merthy thak'th Who ith it? said Lydia -
a plump young lady with very light banged hair,
a fair, full face, and a lisp.

I have n't the least idee," said Eli. Don't
stan' starin', but bring your camfire-bottle, quick!"
This last remark was addressed to Mrs. Badger,
as any one acquainted with the family might have
known by the tone of voice. Eli had a mild way
of speaking to his daughter, and a harsh way of
addressing his wife, which revealed much concern-
ing his domestic relations.
Do you know him? I thought probably you
This was uttered in the gentle voice, and Lydia
answered accordingly:
"No, I don't believe I ever thaw him before.
What made you thtrike him tho hard, Pa? He'th
too nithe looking a boy to be thtealing grapeth!"
She was tenderly wiping the stains from Kit's
face, when a faint voice, half-muffled by the wet
napkin she was using, startled them, almost as if
the dead had spoken.
I was n't stealing grapes !"
It was the voice of Kit, reviving without the
aid of the "camfire-bottle," which the.frightened
Mrs. Badger was just then hurriedly bringing.
The wet napkin had quickened his breath and
brought him out of his swoon.
Thereupon Eli forgot his terrors, and remem-
bered his wrath.
"Wa'n't stealin' grapes!" he repeated, as
soon as he saw by Kit's .opening eyes that the
worst danger was over. "What was ye at my
trellises fur ?"
Kit sat up with some difficulty, and lifted his
hand with a vague and unhappy notion that the
head on his shoulders belonged to somebody else,
and that it was sadly in need of repairs. He
dropped his arm quickly, however, with a twinge in
the part that had come in contact with the Badger.
cudgel, and sat staring in a feeble and sickly way
at Eli, on one stout knee before him, at Miss Badger
with her sympathetic face and flaxen hair, and
lastly at Mrs. Badger, thrusting an impertinent
bottle at his nose.
Then he made a faint effort to explain.
"I was coming to find you,- if this is Mr.
Badger,"- said Kit, judging by the square build of
the man that it was indeed he. Please don't! "
This querulous appeal was addressed to the
holder of the bottle, as the powerful odor of the
camphor gave his nostrils a most unpleasant sur-




That 's my name. What did you want of me,
ef not grapes?" said Eli, incredulous.
Kit answered in broken sentences:
"I was at the oyster saloon. In the village. I
heard some young fellows talk of robbing your
trellises.- To-night.- I thought you ought to
So saying, he put up his hand again, still curi-
ous to know what there was so peculiar about the
head he was carrying.
In answer to Eli's questions, he told all he could

He turned again to Christopher.
"What did you run fer, if you was coming' to
see me?"
"You frightened me," said Kit. "Besides, I
did n't know it was you. And I did n't know that
you would know that I "
Here he put up his hand again to that trouble-
some head of his.
"Where do you feel hurt?" asked the com-
passionate Lydia.
"My head. And my shoulder,gLguess. And


remember, or had strength to repeat, of the con-
versation he had overheard.
And you whacked him over the head when he
wath coming' to give you warning!" exclaimed the
excitedLydia. "Ifthatithn'tjutht too awfulthad!"
Of course, I took him for a thief, himself,"
said the father, in his mild voice coming' on to
the premises that way "
"What a dreffle mistake!" murmured Mrs.
"How do you know whether 't was a mistake
or not?" growled the husband in his gruff voice.
" I caught him at my grapes. And I struck him.
Though I did n't mean ter strike him quite so
hard. How do I know now but what he was
helping' himself, or goin' to?"

my I don't know; I feel bad all over," murmured
Kit, looking very pale, and sinking back on the
"Bathe his head in the camfire," suggested the
Why don't ye do it then, and not stan' talking'
o' doin' it ? cried the surly voice of Eli.
"Had n't we better thend for the doctor?"
hinted the daughter.
I'll see, bime-by; I guess he '11 come out on't;
I hope he will," the amiable voice made answer.
" If he was coming' to find me, why under the sun
did n't he come in the front way ?"
At that, Kit roused up again.
I thought the lane was the front way. I did n't
see any other. I never was here before."





Miss Lydia arranged a shawl under Kit's shoul-
ders, and he lay on the lounge, tranquil but
very pale, while Mrs. Badger bathed the rapidly
swelling bunch she found on his organ of self-
"Where 's my cap ? he faintly inquired.
"Here 't ith," replied Lydia. "It dropped off
when Pa wath bringing you into the houthe."
Eli had risen and was walking the room, while
his wife and daughter attended the sufferer.
If ye was re'ly coming' to give me warning, "
said he, "I 'm sorry I was so hasty; I 'dlike to take
back that last blow."
"I 'd like to have you take 'em all back!"
murmured Kit, with a pallid smile, his sense of the
humorous asserting itself in the midst of his weak-
ness and pain, "and keep 'em for those-other
"I 've been pestered to death by boys hookin'
my fruit,". Eli went on, in self-defense. "You
would n't wonder that I was mad sometimes! It's
hard to catch 'em at it; and if I do once, they
're full of their humbug excuses--innocent as
babes! T' other evening' one came walking' right
in among the vines where I was keeping' watch,
and two others after him. I got right up from
where I was hidin', and faced him. Did he run ?
Not a step But jes' 's I was goin' to gral him,
he looks me cool in the face and says, 'Good-
evenin', Mr. Badger! We 've called to see
if you '11 be willing' to sell us a few bushels of
your nice grapes, when they git ripe; we don't
suppose they 're quite ripe enough to pick yit.'
They'd have thought they were ripe enough if I
had n't been there. But what could I do but give
'em a piece o' my mind ? I 've regretted ever since
that I did n't give 'em a whalin' Mebbe I gave
it to the wrong one, when I give it to you," he said,
pausing and looking down at Christopher. "But
how do I know this story 'bout your coming' to warn
me is n't of a piece with their pretense about wantin'
to buy? "
Kit had experienced so much trouble lately in
getting people to accept his explanations, that he
had not heart to answer. He said, however, rather
stolidly, after a pause:
You need n't believe me; but if you find your
grapes gone in the morning, perhaps you 'll wish
you had."
"I shall keep watch," said Eli, with a peculiarly
grim expression of the square-set jaws. -"Who
are ye, anyway? Where do ye live ? "
"My name is Christopher Downimede, and I
live in East Adam."
"EastAdam! That's along way off! What's
your business around here ?"
"I'm on my way home from Peaceville," Kit

answered. He did not deem it a favorable moment
to introduce the horse question.
"Been to the cattle show? asked Eli.
"Yes, I have," replied Christopher.
"I was there yesterday," Mr. Badger resumed.
"I had some grapes and pears on exhibition which
had oughter take prizes. 'T aint much of a show;
Fair's are all running' to hoss-racin' nowadays."
Lydia smiled to see her father so civil to the
young stranger, whose hurts she was nursing. He
was rarely so gracious to any one but her.
Seems to. me you came considerably out o'
your way," he added.
S"I had a little business this way," Kit replied.
Did n't expect to get to East Adam to-night,
did ye ?" persisted Eli.
S" No; I was going to stay in the village back
here. But I thought I ought to come-and tell
you- about the grape-thieves."
His voice faltered; he looked as if he were going
to faint again. Miss Lydia regarded him with ten-
der concern.
He wont have to go away from here to-night,
will he ?" she appealed to her father. "I don't
thee how he can "


ELI BADGER was still averse to calling the doc-
tor, but he did not see that he could do less for
the boy to whom he had given so gratuitous a beat-
ing, than to put him to bed in his own house. The
bed was accordingly prepared, and Kit was weary
and weak enough to fall asleep almost as soon as
Eli had helped him into it.
He got a pooty hard hit, that's a fact! said
the dealer of the blows, as he returned to the
Ith he any worth ? Are you .going for the
doctor?" Lydia inquired, seeing her father put
on his hat and button his coat.
He doesn't want a doctor," said the soft side
of Eli. I'm goin' for Mahoney."
Mahoney was his hired man, who lived a little
farther up the road.
To get him to watch with you ? Mrs. Badger
meekly asked.
"What else do you s'pose I want him for, at
this time o' night?" Eli's hard side sharply re-
sponded. "You go to bed, you two, and never
mind about me. Have the lights out by nine
o'clock, anyhow. There '11 be fun by moonlight
about 'leven, ef this boy tells the truth."
Of courthe he tellth the truth; anybody can
thee that," said Lydia. "I hope you wont whack'
the wrong perthons again."
No danger this time replied the father.


And he went out of the house, and did not
return to it until midnight.
Kit awoke the next morning with a sore head, a
lame shoulder, and a stunned and dizzy feeling
which recalled, disagreeably, his adventures of the
night before. He lay thinking it over, and won-
dering what he should do about Dandy- at the
same time gazing listlessly at the odd figures on the
wall-paper of Mrs. Badger's best room -when
Mr. Badger walked in.
That square-visaged, broad-backed worthy was
in his most amiable frame of mind. He inquired
after Kit's health, and said cheeringly :
"Got along pretty well withoutt a doctor, hey?
Wa' n't hurt so very bad, after all, was ye ? "
I should n't care to be hurt much worse, unless
I wanted to put my friends to the trouble of a fu-
neral," Kit replied, with a smile of feeble pleasantry.
"Wal!" said Eli, with a grin of satisfaction,
"that 's a toler'ble stiff stick I thumped ye with,
no mistake You should 'a' come in t' other way.
But ye meant it for a favor to me; and 't was a
"Did they come for the grapes?" Kit asked,
Eli Badger indulged in a sinister laugh.
"They did! They was true to their app'int-
ment. They came with a one-hoss team and bas-
kets and boxes, prepared to jest clean my vines
out. But I was on hand, an' so was my man. We 'd
been hid fur nigh two hours, an' had had a pretty
lonesome time on 't too, when we heard some-
body come 'round reconn'iterin', an' bime-by a
wagon stopped jest a little way down the road."
Fartherthan the corner of the lane ? askedKit.
"Yes; some rods. If ithad stopped there, it
would n't have got away; I was hid by the fence,
on the watch for 't. As 't was, we gave our 'ten-
tion to the nren; waited till the rascals were well
started pickin', an' then rushed out on 'em."
Eli chuckled grimly. 'T was moonlight. You
should 'a' been there to see the fun! You 've no
idee on 't! "
"Yes, I have," said Kit, remembering his share
in some very similar fun a few hours earlier, and
imagining the surprise it must have been to the
rogues when the ponderous Eli made his onset.
"Did you catch anybody ? "
I knocked one down, and my Irishman grabbed
him. Then I thumped another and* grabbed
him, and I might have disabled a third, if I had n't
been afraid o' striking' too hard with that stick;
my overdoin' the thing with you had taught me a
lesson! He drove away with the wagon. We'did
pretty well, though. We got two baskets and a
bushel box, 'sides our prisoners; and I know who
they all are."

"What did you do with the two you caught?"
Kit asked.
Marched 'em down to town, found a watchman,
and had 'em locked up," said Eli. "I 'II have
out warrants for the others this morning and make
things lively for the hull lot. I 'm much obliged
to you he added, with hearty emphasis.
"You are quite welcome, I am sure," mur-
mured Kit.
Just then came a little rap at the door, and Miss
Badger's lisp was heard.
"Breakfatht, Pa! Can he. come? I 've got
hith ham and eggth a-cookin'."
Come, can't ye? said Eli. Ye '11 feel more
chipper after ye 've got suthin' warm into yer
stomach; don't ye b'leeve ye will? Guess ye
will "
I hope so. I 'll try," Kit answered, bestirring
He had already made two or three attempts to
rise, but had sunk back again with a faint and giddy
sensation. The stout-limbed Eli, full of kindly and
hospitable feelings for his guest, now came to his
assistance; and the boy, sitting up, put his bare
feet upon the painted floor; then carefully rested
his weight upon them.
I shall be all right after a while," he said.
"Don't keep your breakfast waiting for me."
"It can wait as well as not," replied Eli.
"We 're in no hurry this morning My Irishman,
after bein' up half the night, wont be around for
an hour or two. And I 've nothing' to do but to
look after our grape-stealers. Can I do anything
more for ye ? "
"Nothing," said Kit, glad to be left alone.
He limped to the wash-stand, and felt refreshed
after a free use of cold water about his head and
neck. Then he stood before the little square
looking-glass, by a small dressing-table covered
with a white cloth, and with Mrs. Badger's best
hair-brush and comb completed his toilet;- wincing
as he arranged the locks carefully about that part
of his cranium which had been visited by the
hickory stick.
He found the breakfast waiting for him, and sat
down with the family, feeling already much more
comfortable in body and cheerful in mind than
when he awoke.
Two or three circumstances, however, interfered
with his perfect enjoyment of a plain, substantial
There were some not altogether agreeable things
about the otherwise charming Lydia. She seemed
to take her father's treatment of her mother as a
matter of course, no doubt thinking it fully atoned
for by his gentler manner toward herself. With
her full, fair features and flaxen hair,- long and




flying behind, but combed straight down in front,
and cut precisely from ear to ear across the eye-
brows, completely concealing her forehead, if she
had one,-she sat opposite their guest, and seemed

# >-y A

thieves, Eli relating over and over again how he
had lain in ambush and rushed out upon them
with his club, capturing or putting them to flight.
At length, shoving back his chair, he remarked
that he must
drive to the vil-
lage and see
about swearing
South warrants for
them, the first
You 'd bet-
ter not be in a
hurry about leav-
in' us," he said to
the guest. "Stay
and git recruited
a little."
He put on his
hat and was go-
ing to the barn,
when Kit rose to
follow him.
I think I
3 should like to-
to go out and
-' look at your
horses and stock,"

I he said, glanc-
S- 1 ing around, "if
I could find my

him to put it on,
which Kit did
cautiously, wear-
S- -ing it well on the
much~ ofthtmqitolvusofhrrekfs,__sidMr -ader back of his head
to favor his pain-
fully enlarged
bump of self-es-
teem; and the
him two out to-

N ow do you

much of the time quite oblivious of her breakfast, dered? said Mr. Badger, showing the lane and
in the interest she took in his own. But Kit dis- the way into the lower part of it from the back
liked being stared at when he was eating, especially door of the house. If you'd come down further,
by a young lady with banged hair. you 'd 'a' been all right, though the front way 'd a
Another thingtendedtodampen theardor ofKit's been better. The lane, ye see, goes straight to the
attackon theham and eggs,- the thoughtof Dandy cattle-yard."
There was much talk at table about the grape- The cattle-yard surrounded the barn, and at the

VOL. XII.-43.







end of the barn was the stable, the door of which
stood broadly open. Kit, as he entered with Eli,
and heard the sound of horses.champing in their
stalls, felt his bosom swelL with intense expectation.
"I lost a. hoss a week ago," Mr. Badger re-
marked, taking a curry-comb from a corner brace
of the building. One of the best losses I ever
owned. He broke his leg by putting' it through a
hole in the bridge, an' so he had to be killed.
Town ?11 have to pay the damages, or I miss my
calc'lation.. Whoa stan' 'round! "
He slapped the hip of the first horse with his
comb, and passing into the stall, undid the halter.
I bought a new one to take its place day 'fore
yesterday. Had a chance to buy cheap, over at
Peaceville, at the cattle show. Back, ye brute !"
Kit held his breath; it seemed to him that the
slightest thing might burst his hope like a bubble,
and awaken him from an illusion.
Eli tied the halter to a staple in the rear of the
stalls, and began to curry the animal.
"'T was as good a trade as ever I made," he said,
between strokes of the comb. I thought at first
there might be suthin' wrong about the hoss, it was
offered so cheap. But I know a good hoss when
I see one; and I know a broken-down, spavined,
ring-boned beast when I see one. Nothin' wrong
about this critter "
I-should-think-not," breathed Kit, al-
most too excited to speak above a whisper, and
forgetting all his hurts and pains in the thrilling
joy of the moment.


"I COULD N'T tell whether the critter balked
or not till I tried him," Eli Badger went on, full
of the satisfaction inspired by his excellent bar-
gain. "But I can't find that he has that fault,
either. Stan' 'round, you brute "
The horse "stood around" again, turning to-
ward Christopher, in the broad light of the open
door, a peculiarly marked, mottled side.
There might have been something wrong in
the man's title to him," the boy suggested, with
more confidence in his tones of voice.
I thought of that," said Eli. But he told a
pretty straight story. He 'd had to take the hoss
for a debt, and was obliged to turn him into money,
'T was a good chance, anyway; I wanted jest such
a hoss, and I thought I 'd take the risk. If any-
body has a better claim to this animal now than I
have, he 'll have to prove it, that 's all. Stan' round,
will ye "
Kit observed the crinkles that had not yet dis-
appeared from the lately braided foretop, and said,

in as careless a tone as so deeply interested a boy
could use:
"Suppose a man with a claim on the horse
should- happen along ?"
"What'd I do?" said Eli. "What'd any
man, that is a man, do in my place ? I 'd hold on
to the beast as long as I could, sure as fate Any-
body who knows me '11 tell ye that."
"I suppose so," faltered Christopher. "But
you might be putting yourself to a good deal of
trouble and expense."
Likely enough; but I 'd be puttii' the other
fellow to a good deal of trouble and expense at the
same time. That way I might force him to a com-
promise. 'Here,' I 'd say, 'is a hoss worth a hun-
dred and forty dollars. You 've lost him; I 've
bought him.; Give me half that amount o' money
and take him. I '11 git .back what he cost me, any-
how, if an owner does come along and prove prop-
erty,-which is n't at all likely," added Eli, plying
his comb.
Going to drive him this morning," Kit softly
"No; I drove him yis'day; guess I '11 drive
t' other one this morning Thought I 'd rub him
down, though, and see howhe looked. Stan' round,
I say! Mighty likely hoss that, now," said Eli,
"for seventy dollars "
I should think he was well worth twice that,
as you say," replied Christopher.
I believe he is," said Mr. Badger, if he 's
worth a penny. Oh, I struck a good bargain when
I bought him! "
The other horse was then curried and harnessed,
and Eli, telling Kit to make himself at home and
"get recruited," drove away to see about "fixin'
the grape-thieves," leaving Dandy Jim in the
Kit went out and looked about the place, trying
to calm his excitement and determine what he
should do. Then he went back and feasted his
hungry eyes on Dandy Jim once more. There
could not possibly be any mistake this time about
the identity of the horse. It had all Dandy's char-
acteristic marks; it carried itself like Dandy, it
looked like him out of the eyes, and it was shod
behind and not before.
The boy studied the horse a long while, then
strolled up the lane, and looked off in the direction
in which Eli had gone, all the while struggling with
a great temptation.
He was startled from his reveries by a lisping
voice in the vineyard.
"Don't you want to get thome grapeth? I
think you detherve thome, after latht night!"
And the face of the fair Lydia looked over at him
sweetly from its frame of flaxen hair.




He accepted the invitation, but instead of climb-
ing the fence, as on the night before, went around
by the passage between the house and the cattle-
yard. Lydia met him, and picked for him the
finest clusters she could find. He thanked her,
and, wishing to be alone, made off again toward
the stable.
She followed him, however, with her hands full
of lovely Delawares and Concords, which she ate
herself, and continued to urge upon him.
I gueth you 're fond of hortheth! she re-
marked, seeing how absent-mindedly he let his
longing eyes.wander in the direction of the stalls.
Kit confessed that circumstances had caused
him lately to take a lively interest in those useful
My father bought a firtht-rate one; for a mere
thong, two or three dayth ago," she said, plucking
grapes one by one from a bunch. "Have you
then him?"
Your father showed him to me," replied Kit.
"It's a pretty fair-looking horse. Is he easy under
the saddle?"
"I don't know," said Lydia. "I never ride
horthback. do you ?"
Sometimes; once in a great while," Kit an-
swered dryly. r;
"Do you like riding?" she asked, turning her
beaming face full upon him, while she squeezed a
plump Concord between her lips.
"Yes, if I don't have too much of it at once,"
he replied, negligently eating the last of his
"Pa 'th got a thaddle thomewhere," she went
on, as they stood in the stable door. "You can
take a little ride, if you think you.would fanthy
it. Would n't you like to ?"
Here was his temptation again, in a more terrible
form even than at first. Once on Dandy's back,
and starting off for a little ride,-with Miss Bad-
ger's smiling acquiescence,- would he be able to
stop before he had ridden once more safely into
Uncle Gray's front yard ?

He saw himself riding triumphantly through
East Adam village, waving his cap at his mother
as she ran to the door or window in answer to his
gleeful call; and finally astonishing Uncle and
Aunt Gray, as he swung himself from Dandy's
back at their door. And what was to prevent him
from taking Duckford and Maple Park on his way?
But could he repay Miss Badger's kindness by
such an act of seeming treachery ? Strange as it
may appear, her tempting proposal made it still
more difficult for him to take possession of Dandy
in an underhand way.
He had tried his hand once at stealing him,-
for he remembered how much it had seemed like
stealing when he was betrayed into acting against
the dictates of his conscience by Branlow's persua-
sive cunning. Would it seem less like it now,-to
secure his uncle's property by fraud or force, with
or without Lydia's innocent coSperation ?
He could imagine her parting smiles, as she saw
him set off for his "little ride "; then the growing
solicitude with which she would watch for his
return,- her anxiety becoming alarm, as the con-
viction was gradually forced upon her mind that,
if not a grape-thief, their youthful, honest-seeming
guest was what was worse,- a horse-thief in dis-
guise! Then he could foresee Eli's.rage on com-
ing home and learning what had been done in his
Thank you," said Kit, hesitatingly; "I don't
think- I care -to ride."
He had mastered the temptation in its most
enticing shape. And surely the proposed exer-
cise was not such a novelty to him just then that
he should desire merely to be jounced up and down
by a hard-trotting horse.
"I thuppothe you don't feel like it tho thoon,
after latht night," said the sympathizing Lydia.
I 'm afraid it would be a little too much for
my nerves" (meaning his good resolution), he
replied, in a regretful tone.
"I 'm thorry !" said Lydia, sweetly. "I 'd be
tho glad to thee you have a nithe ride! "

(To be continued.)





{; /



SQUARELY prim and stoutly built,
Free from glitter and from gilt,
-N Plain,- from lintel up to roof-tree and to belfry
bare and brown -
Stands the Hall that hot July,-
While the folk throng anxious by,-
Where the Continental Congress meets within
Sthe Quaker town.
| Hark a stir, a sudden shout,
SAnd a boy comes rushing out,
Signaling to where his grandsire in the belfry,
waiting, stands;-
"Ring! he cries; the deed is done!
SRing! they've signed, and freedom 's won "
And the ringer grasps the bell-rope with his strong
and sturdy hands;
While the Bell, with joyous note
Clanging from its brazen throat,
Rings the tidings, all-exultant,-peals the news
S to shore and sea:
S"Man is man a slave no longer;
Truth and Right than Might are stronger.
Praise to God! We 're free; we 'refree/"







-. ;i:
r ,:'



TRIUMPH of the builder's art,
Tower and turret spring and start-
As if reared by mighty genii for some Prince of
Eastern land;
Where the Southern river flows,
And eternal summer glows,-
Dedicate to labor's grandeur, fair and vast the
arches stand.
And, enshrined in royal guise,
Flower-bedecked neathh sunny skies;
Old and time-stained, cracked and voiceless, but
where all may see it well;

Prize the glorious relic then,
With its hundred years and ten,
By the Past a priceless heirloom to the Future
handed down.
Still its stirring story tell,
Till the children know it well,-
From the joyous Southern city to the Northern
Quaker town.
Time that heals all wounds and scars,
Time that ends all strifes and wars,
Time that turns all pains to pleasures, and can
make the cannon dumb,


Circled by the wealth and power
Of the great world's triumph-hour,-
Sacred to the cause of freedom, on its dais rests
the Bell.
And the children thronging near,
Yet again the story hear
Of the Bell that rang the message, pealing out
to land and sea:
" Man is man-a slave no longer;
Truth and Right than Might are stronger.
Praise to God! We're free; we're free!"

Still shall join in firmer grasp,
Still shall knit in friendlier clasp
North and South-land in the glory of the ages
yet to come.
And, though voiceless, still the Bell
Shall its glorious message tell,
Pealing loud o'er all the Nation, Lake to Gulf,
and Sea to Sea:
" Man is man-a slave no longer;
Truth and Right than Might are stronger.
Praise to God! We're free ; we're free!"

- ----~----

": -~j







LITTLE -Decitur Jones had: fully made up his
mind that nothing 'but a sailor'slife % ouid satisfy
hiim.h The old sea-faring spirit of his'forefathers
was in the lad, and he chafed and fretted greatly%
under the restrictions of what he called h; "- hum-
drum" country life. His father was dead, and his
mother could not procure an appointment.for him
to the naval academy at Annapolis. But when
she learned through the village postmaster that
the United-States Navy offered just such boys
as Decatuy Jones a good home, fair wages, and
,the sea-life he desired, she decided, after long
deliberation, to let the boy have his way.
And so it came about that, soon after her decis-

ion, little Decatur:stood on the pier at the foot of
West Twenty-third street, New York, where a sea-
soldier (called a:" marine '),,stood on guard at the
landing and a little steam-launch bobbed against
the pier waiting to take .several boys out to the
school-house. Think of starting for school in a
steam launch! .
The launch steamed out'into the river and hauled
alongside the steps of the school-house. And the
school-house was a great war-ship. The boys
climbed the high, black side of the ship and came
out upon the shining white decks. There they found
another marine on guard, while an officer and some
young sailors were busy near at hand.





The admission to the school is simple e nogh., A
boy must be of robust figure, intelligent, of a
sound and healthy constitution, free from any
ph% sical defects or malforma-
tion; he must be able to read
and write; and be of the
standard height and measure-
ment. All of these require-
ments our young Decatur
could meet-satisfactorily ;yet
it is a test which many boys
fail to stand; for, at a recent
examination in Boston, out
of nearly one hundred appli-
cants, only twenty-six suc-
ceeded in passing the requi-
site physical examination.
Then Decatur Jones signed
his name to what are known
as the "shipping articles,"
by which he agreed to serve
continuously in the Navy of
the United States until he
was twenty-one years old;
and, having exhibited a print-
ed form signed by his mother,
in which she gave her consent .
to the step he had taken, he
was declared a voluntarily
enlisted third-class boy in the

United States Navy, with the
pay of $9.50 per month, besides
what is known as the navy "ra-
tions of thirty cents per day.
S- The very next day saw Deca-
S tur Jones with a squad of other
I new recruits on board one of the
steamers of the Fall River Line,
S bound for Newport, at which
place they were at once trans-
ferred to the school-ship "New
SHampshire," anchored off Coast-
ers' Harbor Island.
Some six years ago, the State
of Rhode Island presented this
S island of Coasters' Harbor to the
A United States, with the under-
- standing that it was to be used
as a naval training station. It
lies within a mile of the beauti-
ful old city of Newport, and is
separated from the main-land by
a narrow strait sprinted by a
causeway. Anchored off this
island lies the bluff-bowed old
line-of-battle ship "New Hamp-
shire," with numerous decks,
e ports of which protrude the muzzles of
king guns. This is the cradle of the train-
t-the real school afloat. All the other




boys ready at any of these ships, they are
sent, as was our friend Decatur Jones,
to the stout old ship ''New Hampshire,"
at Coasters' Harbor.
As Decatur clambered up the three
long flights of gangway ladders and
stepped upon the quarter-deck, he was
met by a pleasant-looking gentleman,
radiant with brass buttons and gold lace.
This was the officer of the deck. He
took Decatur's transfer papers
S from the tremblinglad, looked
him over from head to foot,
and called for the master-at-

'F-S V( MY /...

ships, at New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Wash- The master-at-arms, whom Decatur soon learned
ington, and San Francisco are simply the entering, to like, and to call, as did the other boys, from
or receiving, ships. As often as there are twenty some as yet undiscovered reason, "Jimmy Legs,"


K -

/ 7


doffed his cap and saluted the brass-buttoned
officer of the deck.
Master-at-arms," said that dignitary, "you
will see that this boy has a bath and that his
hair is cut; then take him down to the sick-bay
to be vaccinated. After that, get him his bag and
hammock; show him his 'swing' and how to
'lash and carry.' "
"Aye, aye, sir responded "Jimmy," briskly,
although the order was rattled off at such a rate that
poor Decatur had no idea what the gentleman in
brass buttons was talking about. But "Jimmy
Legs did; and turning to Decatur, he said, "This
way, lad," aid led him at once into a large deck-
house on the upper deck, where stand a dozen or
more bath-tubs, beside the steam pump and boiler.
The bath was soon over, and then, on the
deck next below, Decatur's abundant hair was
neatly clipped down to the regulation "short cut"
by a boy barber; after which he was taken to the
hospital-room, known as the "sick-bay," upon a
still lower deck, where he was vaccinated by the
surgeon, a kind-looking old gentleman.
After this intimation that cleanliness and health
are among the most important considerations in
the school of the sailor, Decatur was left to him-
self and given a chance to look about him. He
wandered through the great ship, gazed up at :hE
tall masts and lofty spars with their masses of rig-
ging, and felt certain that he would surely become
dizzy were he to try to skip aloft, as could most
of the five hundred boys who, in their natty blue
uniforms, seemed to be in every part of the ship.
He examined the great guns on the gun-deck, the
ponderous capstans and heavy anchor-chains, the
racks of burnished rifles and shining cutlasses, the
brightly scoured mess-tables on the berth-deck,
with their outfits of knives, forks, spoons, and pans
shining like polished silver, until, tired and hungry,
he began to wonder whether he was to have any
supper and where he was to sleep.
Just at the right moment along came Jimmy
Legs" again. Here's your station billet, my son,"
he said, handing the boy a small piece of printed
paper. "Watch number, 22, port forecastle;
that's your hammock number also. At quarters
you go with number two's gun crew, first division..
Then here you have your station given for all the
exercises with sails and spars. You belong to the
first cutter's crew-that 's your boat, d' ye see?
All the information in a nut-shell. There 's the
call for mess formation sounding now, so run along
and join your crew-number two, first division."
Dear me," thought Decatur, I never can re-
member all that. Number two -first division; I
wonder what it means ? "
But in the midst of his wondering a manly-

looking boy, with two red chevrons on his arm,
stepped up to him.
"What's your name ?" he asked. "Jones ?"
"Yes; Decatur Bainbridge Jones."
"Well, my name 's Nelson, and I 'm captain of
your gun's crew- number two, first division," said
the new-comer. Follow me, and I 'II show you
where we fall in."
Decatur, greatly relieved, followed his new friend
along the line of boys, and was properly placed
with his own crew. Then, after muster, all the
crew marched down to a supper of bread and
milk, and Decatur picked up plenty of information.
Who 's Commodore Duff? he asked, catch-
ing at the curious name as it passed among the
boys. Is he the head of the ship ? "
"Well, we could n't get along without him very
well," was the laughing reply. "Why, Duff's our
caterer, you know. He 's an Italian with a jaw-
breaking name, and we call him Duff for short; and
does n't he feed us well, though ? You just ought
to have seen our last Christmas dinner,"--and
there sounded a chorus of appreciative smacks in
recollection of that Christmas dinner.
Supper over, "Jimmy Legs made his appear-
ance again, loaded down with a hammock, mat-
tress, blankets, a large black canvas bag, and a
small square box.
This is your bed," he said to our friend Decatur,
pointing to the hammock. This is your clothes-
bag, and this is your ditty-box for sewing gear,
writing materials, and odds and ends. You will
draw your clothing to-morrow, when the officer of
your division has had a look at you. Now, come
along and I'll show you where to swing your ham-
He led theway to the gun-deck. This is your
berth," he said; number twenty-two, same as
your hammock number and watch number. I '11
take care of your bag and box until to-morrow."
Then he put up the hammock, arranged the
bedding, and trotted quietly away, while young
Decatur, thoroughly tired out, found that a ham-
mock is a much more comfortable bed than he
imagined, and was soon sound asleep.
The next morning, when Decatur had donned
his blue shirt with its rolling collar, the loosely fit-
ting trousers, and the jaunty cap with "New Hamp-
shire lettered in gold upon it, he felt himself in
reality "every inch a sailor." And as he now be-
comes one of the five hundred, and hence loses to
a great degree his identity, we must leave him to
share the fortunes of his comrades, while we take
a more general look at what these fortunes are.
The blast of bugles and flare of drums at early
daylight is the reveille," warning the young ap-
prentices that it is time to "turn out." Should




r i

they forget this fact, there are any number of petty under the direction of the officer of the deck. The
officers ready to impress it upon them. Twelve decks are swept clean, and the running rigging
minutes are allowed in which to turn out, dress, laid up neatly on the pins. The order is then
lash hammocks, carry them on deck, and stow passed to scrub and wash clothes. Each boy be-
them in the nettings provided for the purpose, comes for the moment his own washerman, and,
The next step is to carry out the morning orders, brush in hand, goes heartily at this laundry work.


fI I

i885.] A SCHOOL AFLOAT. 683

Smirched clothing is never tolerated; so every day
is wash-day, thereby giving all hands an opportun-
ity to keep their clothing neat and clean.
The cleanliness of the ship itself is a matter con-
sidered equally as important as that of the crew.
The boatswain's mates pipe Wash down the
decks," and the work begins. Buckets of water,
hickory brooms, sand and holy-stones, squillgees
and swabs all are brought into use to drive every
particle of dirt from the oak planks of the decks,
which soon shine with a whiteness that any house-
wife would envy. Then the ship must be cleaned
outside, and the copper sheathing scrubbed and

The great event of the forenoon is "quarters."
All the crews assemble at their guns for muster,
inspection, and drill. Four guns' crews, of seven-
teen boys each, make up a division, which is in
charge of an officer. The drills are varied and
interesting, and, pertain more particularly to that
part of the training which makes fighting men."
The boys are exercised in loading, pointing, and
firing the heavy cannon which constitute the ship's
battery. The target is towed out to the proper
distance from the ship. There is about this gun-
practice much "make-believe" as the phrase
goes at.first, but when the boys are thoroughly


oiled until it looks like a band of reddish gold above
the water-line. The ship having received her share
of attention,: the boys are given a half-hour'in
which to prepare for "early inspection," at which
the master-at-arms and a number of subordinates
make a critical observation of the toilets.
Then comes breakfast, and, after that, more
cleaning. There are no intervals of idleness.
This time it is the guns that need care; their
brass-work must be made to shine like a mirror in
the sun. While this is going on, a bugle sounds
sick-call, and all those who are too ill for the day's
work flock down to the dispensary, where the old
surgeon and his young assistant are busy feeling
pulses, peering down throats; and prescribing gen-
erously for each .patient. '

posted in their duties, real powder and shell are
brought in. The deafening reports are at first a
sore trial to delicate nerves, but our young friends
are soon able to stand unmoved while an eight-
inch Dahlgren gun belches forth flame and smoke.
Broadsword and cutlass drills, under the super-
vision of an expert swordsman, and pistol, howitzer,
and infantry drills form a part of the routine, which
goes toward strengthening the youthful arm that
may some day be raised in defense of our country's
After quarters, exercises and studies, with an in-
terval of one hour at noon for dinner, fill up the
time until four o'clock. Evening quarters, for mus-
ter only, are at half-past four,.and supper is at five.
Hammocks are piped down early in the evening,


and every one must be turned in at nine o'clock,
when silence fore and aft is the order of the night.
The school of instruction for the apprentices is
divided into three departments, viz. : Seamanship
Department, Gunnery Department, and Depart-
ment of Studies. Each department is in charge
of an officer, with several assistants. In seaman-
ship, the boy is first taught the names of all the
spars, ropes, and sails. He is then sent on the
"monkey yard," which is slung a few feet above
the deck, and there taught how to handle a small
sail. Encouraged to take a run up the rigging
every morning, the boy soon forgets his fear of
falling, and is then allowed to take part in the
regular exercises aloft-such as loosing, furling,
reefing, bending, and unbending sails, sending up
or down light yards and top-gallant masts, etc.
Cutting and fitting rigging, knotting and splicing
rope, sail-making, boxing the compass, heaving
the lead and log signals, pulling oars, swimming,
and the use of the diving apparatus come under
this head. The course of instruction in gunnery
includes the theory of gunnery, in addition to the
practice mentioned in a preceding paragraph as
divisional drills. The Department of Studies
embraces the rudiments of an ordinary English
education-reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic,.
grammar, geography, history, moral and religious
instruction, and singing.
This, then, is the every-day work of the ap-
prentices, but it is not all work and no play. On
Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons,
those whose conduct record may warrant are given
liberty to visit the quaint old town of Newport.
For those who do not care for this, the island close
at hand is a rare place for base-ball, foot-ball, and
other field sports. Boating is always in order--the
ship's.boats for rowing, and the little brig Toy or
the schooner-yacht Wave for sailing. These last
two, manned by the boys themselves, make pleas-
ant cruises in Narragansett Bay, and often visit
the surrounding towns. And it is a pretty sight
on some breezy day to see the boys walk out on
the long boom and drop into the cutter that bobs
and dances alongside. In the pleasant summer
evenings the band plays for "stag" dancing on
board ship, and a singing-master leads the chor-
uses, which make the air resound with "Nancy
Lee," Life on the Ocean Wave," and other songs
of the sea. A library and reading-room are open
during recreation hours. On Sunday mornings
church service is conducted by the Chaplain on
the gun-deck, when all are required to be present.
For the bad or unruly boy, or the one who lazily
or willfully shirks his duty, there is first justice and
then punishment. Such a boy is duly reported to
the officer of the deck and the culprit is speedily

summoned to answer to the charges against him
before a court composed of the captain, the
executive. officer and the chaplain. It is like a
regular police court, too, in which if the boy can
plead a good excuse or can prove by witnesses
that no blame attaches to him he may do so. Every-
thing is done according to exact justice, and pun-
ishment is only given when proven to be merited.
After a year on the ship, those boys who have
advanced far enough in their profession to be con-
sidered available for sea are generally transferred
to some of the cruising ships of the training squad-
ron, when the fleet rendezvous at Newport in the
early spring, preparatory to the summer cruise.
The transfer day is a gala day. The fortunate
boys are bustling around getting their bags and
hammocks ready and saying their good-byes.
" Commodore puff" always provides a grand fare-
well dinner on this occasion, to which every depart-
ing apprentice will look back with pleasure when
fresh provisions give out at sea, and "'salt horse "
(salt beef), "soup and bully" (canned beef), and
"hard-tack have important places in the bill of
fare. The draft turns out in blue mustering-clothes,
and, amid a volley of cheers and swinging of caps,
boards the tug, which has been waiting alongside,
and are soon distributed among their new homes.
* Once upon the high seas, much of the romance
of the sailor's life fades quickly away. It may be
pleasant to stroll along the cliffs and to watch the
great waves break in a line of white foam and a
shower of spray, but once afloat in a wave-tossed
ship, many a young sailor has felt contemplation
give way to an indescribable feeling of misery and
woe. There are few people who are proof against
sea-sickness, and the land-lubber who can endure
the rolling and pitching without a qualm is a hero
indeed. But the lad who "tackles it" manfully,
with a dogged determination to crush out the first
symptoms of weakness, generally conquers, and is
soon able to laugh with the rest. One or two days
is the average time allowed for getting one's "sea
The coast-line soon fades away in a purple haze
as the small fleet bowls along before the wind out
into the broad Atlantic. The change is exhila-
rating. To many it is a new world-the blue
above and the blue below. The weather is fair
to-day, but to-morrow the clouds may bank up
around the horizon in dark, foreboding masses, the
gentle breeze may increase to a howling gale, and
the speeding ship be stripped of her lofty canvas
until she is left wallowing in a heavy sea and drift-
ing bodily to leeward. It is then that the stout
heart and the steady hand of the sailor boy stand
him in good stead. There are to'-gallant sails and
royals to be furled, the lofty yards of which sway




from side to side with the motion of the ship, mak-
ing the dizzy height all the more perilous, and the
youngsters must reef top-sails, working with their
hands, and acquiring the knack of "hanging on"
without the help of those useful members.
Day and night the watch is set, to pass four
hours on deck ready to answer every call, whether
it be to man the "jib down-haul" or "spanker
brails"; then four hours below, with nothing to
do. The dog watches of two hours each (from
4 to 6 P. M. and from 6 to 8 P. M.) break the con-
tinuity, and enable the watches to alternate, and
thus secure eight hours below every other night.
Thus a year -several months of it spent in sea-
voyaging-slips quickly by, and the young tar
has advanced steadily in his calling. His fund of

general knowledge has been increased by visiting
foreign countries. At no time has the training
in the three departments of Seamanship, Gunnery,
and Studies been lost sight of, although self-reliance
has taken the place of that dependence upon others
which is necessarily so common at first.
Upon attaining his majority, the apprentice is
in every way fitted for general service as a man-of-
war's-man, and may serve-according to his choice
-in any squadron that stands in need of men.
Whether he chooses the much-sought-for Euro-
pean squadron, or visits the celestials in China,
or wanders in the Pacific or South Atlantic, let us
hope that he will at all times prove himself worthy
of his alma mater, and help to regenerate that fast-
disappearing class the American seaman.



HERE are two letters that were written by two
boys who became great and good men. Now,
while we are about to commemorate the anniver-
sary of our Nation's birth, it is pleasant to look back
to the days when those two great patriots were
only boys like the rest of us.
The first letter is from Richard Henry Lee, who
spoke so boldly and acted so bravely for our coun-
try in the time of her great peril and need:

"Pa brought me two pretty books full of pic-
tures he got them in Alexandria they have pictures
of dogs and cats and tigers and elefants and ever
so many pretty things cousin bids me send you one
of them it has a picture of an elefant and a little
idian boy on his back like uncle jo's sam pa
says if I learn my tasks good he will let uncle jo
bring me to see you will you ask your ma to let
you come to see me.

To this letter Washington sent the following
"Dear Dickey I thank you very much for the
pretty picture book you gave me. Sam asked me
to show him the pictures and I showed him all
the pictures in it; and I read to him how the tame
elephant took care of the master's little boy, and
put him on his back and would not let anybody
touch his master's little son. I can read three or
four pages sometimes without missing a word.

Ma says I may go to see you and stay all day with
you next week if it be not rainy. She says I may
ride my pony Hero if Uncle Ben will go with me
and lead Hero. I have a little piece of poetry
about the picture book you gave me, but I must n't
tell you who wrote the poetry.
"'G. W's. compliments to R. H. L.
And likes his book full well,
Henceforth will count him his friend,
And hopes many happy days he may end.'
Your good friend,

"I am going to get a whip top soon, and you
may see it and whip it."

In less than halfa century after writing this child-
letter, this same George Washington stood before
a vast assemblage of people, and, with his hand
upon the Bible, took the oath as the first President
of the United States.
"Long live George Washington, President of
the United States," shouted one who stood near,
and the people caught up and repeated the shout.
But the first person to clasp Washington's hand
was his life-long friend, Richard Henry Lee.
After all, boys are boys. If these two great men
were once boys like us, why may not we some day
become great men like them? To be great, one
need not be famous.

* Faithful old family slaves were called Uncle.





ITHA lived with her father in a small German
village. He was a very learned man, but very
poor, and so he walked into the town, two leagues
distant, every morning to give lessons to the young
people of rich families; and in the evening he
walked back to the village and took little Itha on
his knee, and made her tell him what she had done
with herself all the long day. And when they
had eaten their supper, he would sometimes say:
Now you shall hear a story about what hap-
pened when the world was young."
Many were the beautiful wonder-tales that he
knew, but the one Itha liked best was the history
of a fair and gentle lady who was borne away to
the sunless kingdom of the dead; and so great was
the grief of her husband that he went to seek her
in that shadowy land, and by his sweet singing
compelled her captors to yield her back to him.
Itha" was never tired of hearing this story.
At other times, the poor scholar would take
down his favorite book and read aloud, in a rich,
full voice, something that sounded like a great
river rolling along. :: Itha would sit upon his knee
all the. while that he was reading, and one day
she said to him:
"Let me read, too, in that book."
So he taught his little daughter how to read in
the book, though it was written in Greek; for it
was the book of a wonderful Greek poet who
lived thousands of years ago, when the world was
young. And it was the only book that Itha ever
read, for her father had forgotten to teach her how
to read German, which was her own language.
One December evening,-it was the eve of St.
Nicholas's day,-as the poor scholar was trudging
back from the town, he remembered that he
had not been able to do anything with his little
pupils all that day, because they were all whis-
pering to each other guesses as to what St. Nicho-
las would put in their shoes next morning; for
every German child, when he gets up from his bed
on the sixth of December, expects to find a nice
present in his shoes, and the nurse tells him St.
Nicholas put it there. One of the scholar's pupils
wished for a pair of skates; another hoped it
would be a brand-new doll; a third wanted a box
of sugar-plums, and the poor scholar thought:
My little Itha will have no gift from St. Nicho-
las to-morrow morning."
And he sighed sadly. When he had gone a
little farther, he met a peddler.

"Ah! surely," he cried, quite joyfully, "you
must have something in your bag which will do to
put in my little child's shoe."
"I have not such a thing with me," said the
peddler; "I am sold out, excepting a few bone-
handled knives and some tin-ware." He passed
on, but in a minute he ran back and said: I for-
got a bit of a thing I picked up at a sale in an
old country house a week ago--it might do for
you, perhaps, but I can not tell."
He pulled out from the bottom of his sack- a
little violin !
"What is your price?" cried the poor scholar,
trembling with eagerness to secure the prize.
Three florins," said the peddler.
He had just that in his pocket, and he brought
it out, not thinking for a moment of how he had in-
tended to buy himself a new hat with the money,
because his pupil, little Master von Rebel, had
secretly sat upon his old one and crushed in the
crown, "just for'fun "
-) As for the peddler, he went on his way rejoicing,
for he had bought the violin for one florin, so he
had made a clear gain of two. He was not accus-
tomed to deal in such things, and he did not in the
least suspect that the little violin was worth much
more than even the sum he sold it for; still, this
was really the fact. Inside of it, almost marked
out by age and dust, stood the name of Joseph
Guarnerius, of Cremona, a great and famous
Joseph Guarnerius was a strange man, and
perhaps he made this particular little violin by
way of a joke, for it was very small, and what
is called the tail-piece had a carved head on it,
the likeness of a curious, good-natured-looking
little monster, something like the gargoyle heads
you see in old churches. Or it may be that it was
intended as a keepsake for his jailer's daughter,
who was very kind when he was once in prison,
and brought him the needful materials so that he
might not have to leave off making violins. When
the dust was rubbed off the case, it showed a
bright amber color, which pleased the poor scholar
as he sat that night rubbing it up to make it
look as nice as possible; but he did not know its
value any more than the peddler, and therefore he
was not aware that it was one of the great secrets
of the old makers how to give the instruments this
glowing, yellow tint. When he had done polishing
it, as it was too big to go into the shoe, he put the

686 '



shoe on the head of the little carved monster, and
placed it silently by Itha's bed.
As soon as Itha woke in the morning, she saw
the little violin, and she was very, very happy; she
kissed it and kissed it, and could not kiss it enough.
She wondered how it ever came to be in her shoe,
but her father said, with a smile, St. Nicholas put
it there !" When she touched the strings, and when
they went twing, twing," she jumped for joy, she
was so glad. After that, she drew the bow across
the strings, and it made a sweet, long sound, and
she-could have.cried with pleasure. You see, little
Itha was not in the habit of having many pretty
things given her, and so she thought all the more
of this one. She asked her father what it should
be called, for she wished to give it a name, and he
told her to call it Psyche.
After that St. Nicholas day, whenever her father
was away in the town, little Itha played on her
violin. At first she only made different kinds of
sounds, but she soon found out how to play the lit-
tle tunes with which her mother had been used to
sing her to sleep; and then she would make up
tunes of her own to play, and discover all sorts
of new ways in which to play the old ones. She
would say softly, as she nursed her little violin
in her lap, There are three in the house now:
Father, Itha, and Psyche!" She used to take
Psyche to bed with her when it was cold weather.
But when the new year was half gone by, a
great misfortune happened -the poor scholar lost
his eyesight. Now he could no longer go into the
town to earn money by teaching-rich children, and
every day there was less bread in the house. Little
Itha was very happy that she could read to her
father out of his dearly loved book; she sat on his
knee, as in old times, and he held the book in his
hands whilst she read. Every day she made him
tell her how Homer, the great poet who wrote the
book, was also blind and poor when he grew old,
for the story seemed to be a comfort to him.
One day there was no food, and no money to get
it with. The poor scholar said to himself, If it
was only I, I could starve; but the child must
eat." He went to the shelf where his dear book
lay, and he took it down and dusted it with his
sleeve, and for a few moments he held it in his
hands. Then he felt his way to the door, and
walked out, with his stick, to a neighbor's house.
For a minute he stood still; a thought struck
him: The violin would do as well-but no It
would break Itha's heart to part with it." He
called to the neighbor:
"Neighbor, your son Hans is going to the town;
will you let him sell this book and buy bread ?"
In the afternoon, Hans came back with a loaf,
and said it was all right."

When they had done their supper, Itha went to
the shelf, as usual.
"Father! she cried out, "I cannot see
"He is sold to buy bread, my child," said the
poor scholar.
Itha sat down on his knee, and all that evening
they both cried. Next day two men came to the
house, and the poor scholar gently bade Itha go
out of the room while he spoke with them; but
through the door she heard sounds of harsh voices
and hard words, and when they had talked for
some time, Itha's father came out to her and
My child, you know we are very poor, and
since my trouble I have not been able to pay my
rent. I owe these gentlemen forty florins, and
they are going to put me in prison till I can pay
it. Good-bye, my little Itha."
Meanwhile, the two men looked around the
"These things wont fetch twenty pence, all put
together," said one.
"What's this? A fiddle, I declare That may
be sold for a trifle, perhaps," said the other,
roughly handling Psyche.
"Well, we can see about that, when we come
back presently," rejoined the first speaker. "Lit-
tle girl," he continued, with just the air of one who
thinks he is doing a great favor, we shall try and
get you into the town orphan-house."
I am not an orphan, and I will go with my
father!" cried Itha, sobbing, and clinging to her
father's neck.
You 're little better off than an orphan," mut-
tered one of the men, and they forthwith led the
poor scholar away and slammed the door on his
little daughter. Itha wept bitterly when they were
gone; but of a sudden she got up and took hold
of her little violin, and said:
"Psyche, you and I must save father i and she
ran.off as fast as she could. She did not go toward
the town, for she knew the cruel men lived there,
but right the other way, across the fields of barley
and rye. That night she slept under a hedge, but
the next day she came to a village, and she played
her violin all along the village street. The people
were pleased to hear the music, and threw out
pence, and one gave her a piece of bread with
some sausage. A good man let her sleep in some
straw under his shed, and when morning came,
she made her way to another village. Thus she
went on, and on, from day to day, and she kept
all the money she earned tied up in her pocket-
handkerchief, till it got to be quite heavy with
pence and small coins. Still, there were not nearly
forty florins, and the life was a very hard one; but




Itha said, over and over again, Psyche and I will
save poor father," and that made her able to bear it
all. When the winter began, it was terrible to have
to wander about like this; yet, little Itha's heart
was light, for her handkerchief grew weightier every
day, and all the florins were there, save one! But
her strength was almost gone, and as her shoes

~. I' '


chestnuts, had disappeared; there was nothing
left of the ginger-bread man but his gilded toes;
now came the supreme moment, when the Marzipan
was put on the table. The musician stood up and
said to his children:
Once upon a time, in the month of March,
there was a great siege, and nothinigwas left in the


were worn out, she had to walk with bare feet. It town but sugar. So the people boiled down all
was in this plight she reached the very old town the sugar together, and ate it instead of bread.
of Nuremburg one cold December day. And the children thought it so good, that ever
since, at Christmas, they have eaten the March-
They were keeping Christmas in the great bread, such as you have before you to-day."
musician's house. The roast goose, stuffed with The children screamed with delight when the



Marzipan was uncovered; it was big and round,
and there were splendid figures on it in colored
Just then the musician's ear caught a little sound
coming up from the square, and when he went to
the window he saw a poor little ragged child play-
ing the violin; and all along where she had trod-
den, there were stains of blood on the snow; for
her naked feet were cut and frost-bitten.
Keep quiet for a minute, children," said the
musician to the merry band at the dinner-table.
He listened and listened till the music stopped;
then his face lit up brightly, as though with deep

joy, and he exclaimed: "Here is one who will
become a great artist! "

So Itha's pilgrimage ended. The musician took
her into his house and gave her good food and
warm clothing. They started off together to free
the poor scholar; and what was more, the musi-
cian did not rest until he had found the old copy
of Homer and bought it back for him. Then
Itha and her father went to Nuremberg, and Itha
studied for some years and grew perfect in her art,
and in time her name came to be known over all
the world for her beautiful playing on the violin.





As Prince Braunfels had intimated, he had de-
termined to "go back to civilization,"- that is, to
Germany. His own subjects had become Ameri-
canized, and no longer treated their Prince with
the respect his rank demanded.
Dey sits down in mine presence, Madame," he
complained to.Mrs. Frierson, unt mit dere hats
on dere hets. Dey stops at mine gate unt shouts
to me: I say, Brince, pring me ein tassen vasser!"
Houf! I dell you I must leaf dis hor-rid countree! "
In leaving, however, he needed to make satisfac-
tory disposition of a valuable, full-blooded Merino
ram that he had imported from Spain at a heavy
expense, together with several Merino ewes. The
Prince was enthusiastic on the subject of sheep-
But ach! Mein beoples he exclaimed;
"dey are such foolish ones, dey would eat dese
grand, dese noble sheep for mutton. Stupids "
The Prince had formed a high opinion of the ex-
VOL. XII.-44.

cellentsense of Ruthven; and the proposition which
he made was that the Friersons should take his
small but extremely valuable flock of Merinos in
charge, paying him a fixed percentage upon the
yearly returns and increase.
Ruthven and his mother hesitated at first. They
had had some experience with the Mexican sheep
of that region, but to undertake the care and rais-
ing of valuable, full-blooded stock was a very dif-
ferent matter.
We have no inclosed pasturage large enough,"
objected Ruthven. "We are too near the public
roads and the towns. Dogs will kill the sheep, or
Mexicans will steal them. I know nothing about
the diseases of sheep, nor about their housing
and food. One week may sweep off every one of
them; and these Merinos are delicate as well as
valuable creatures."
You forget what the Prince told us of old Jock,
his Scotch shepherd, Ruthven," said Mrs. Frier-
son. The old man brought these sheep across
the Atlantic, you know, and has had charge of
them ever since. He thoroughly understands
sheep and has regular shepherd dogs."




"But, Mother, the Prince says that Jock has
refused to stay in Texas," Ruthven replied. "The
old Scotchman is as disgusted with the climate as
the Prince is with the people. And more than all,
Manchac Springs is no place for sheep. The
Prince himself acknowledges that."
But while their minds were occupied with the
proposition of Prince Braunfels and the question of
what was the best course to be pursued, a train of
emigrants from the North rested one day near the
house, and refreshed themselves with the water of


Manchac Springs. Manchac, indeed, was famous
throughout that section as a favorite resting-place
with the scouts and guides who piloted the numer-
ous emigrant trains over the Texas plains.
This special train consisted of three ambulances,
six great road-wagons, several cows, and a score
or so of negroes. Upon a mattress in the largest
ambulance lay a sweet-faced woman in the earlier
stages of consumption. She proved to be Mrs.
Edwards, a widow of considerable wealth, accom-
panied by her son, Harry, and her two daughters,
Barbara and Madge, all young people of about the
ages of Mrs. Frierson's children.
"We have come to Texas," Harry told Mrs.
Frierson, as he met her under the live-oaks before
the house, "in the hope that the climate may
benefit my mother. She is in raptures over your
magnificent spring and the charming situation of
your house. In fact," he added, "she is tired
out, and is really crying like a child at the idea of
leaving this bit of paradise for the hot, dusty road."
Mrs. Frierson's heart went out to this tired in-
valid searching for health. She walked down to
see her, with kind words and kindly offices. The

Edwards train remained a week in camp near the
springs; a mutual liking soon developed into a
strong friendship between the two families, and
finally the proposition came from Mrs. Edwards
that Mrs. Frierson should lease Manchac Springs
to her for three years.
S" But where shall we go?" asked Mrs. Frier
son, in some perplexity.
"You forget Prince Braunfels' Merinos, Mother,"
said Waldo.
. "If we. only had a suitable tract of land, we
could accept both Prince Braunfels' proposition
and that of Mrs. Edwards," said Ruthven, deep
in thought. "We can not go far enough away
from civilization to preempt land. Mrs. Edwards
is willing to advance money if we will lease the
place to her, but even that--"
"Well- I'11 be shot "
This singular and most unlooked-for exclama-
tion came from Uncle Cyrus.
Every one looked at him in amazement.
Whatever is the matter, Uncle Cyrus ? asked
"Why, this is the matter," he replied, "and I
can't imagine why I did n't think of it before. I
bought a land patent of old Jack Lubbock a dozen
years ago to help him out of a tight scrape. I got
it for a mere song--fifty dollars, I think,- and
I 've kept it clear of taxes ever since. It 's a per-
fectly magnificent tract of land in the Lampasas
region. Let us all go there. It's the very place
for sheep; plenty of mesquit grass and running
water -just the thing, Bessie; just the thing !"
And Uncle Cyrus's plan was "just the thing."
It completed the chain of circumstances that was
to lift the Friersons out of their debt and distress.
Ruthven was full of plans and arrangements;
Waldo was now the best of friends with Uncle
Cyrus; and as for that gentleman, a cloud seemed
to have rolled from his face.
He never was cheerier in the old days,"
Waldo said to Bessie. "He insists on deeding
the land to Mother, and begins to feel that he may
yet undo the harm that he has done. It 's a great
plan, Bessie, but I know it is n't the plan he 's
been hinting at so long. I believe I have an
idea of what that is, and if it 's true -why, Bess,
it '11 be perfectly glorious for us all! "
So the great change came about, and it seemed,
as Mrs. Frierson said, as if all things worked to-
gether for good." Turning over Ruthven's care-
fully kept note-book, one sees that Uncle Cyrus
made his unexpected appearance in the Frierson
household on January 7; the Prince's proposition
came on March 15; the Edwards family camped
by Manchac Springs on March 20; on the 25th of
March Uncle Cyrus so suddenlybegged to be shot;




%885.] SHEEP OR SILVER? 691

and the 3oth of March saw Waldo and Uncle
Cyrus on their way to prepare a place for the
family as well as they could in the Lampasas, a
hundred miles away, taking with them three Mex-
ican laborers and an abundance of tools and
weapons. Ruthven was to follow a month later
with old Jock McGilveray, the Scotch shepherd
of Prince Braunfels, driving the costly old Merino
ram, Don Quixote, and the ewes.
It was toward the last of April that Ruthven
and old Jock were
approaching .the A "
creek which isknown
as the Lampasas, and
which gives the name
to the whole region -
around about. Jock,
who had never been
known to ride, was
trudging sturdily it
along, driving the -
flock before him,
while a little behind,
rode Ruthven in an
old ambulance con-
taining the baggage
and camp outfit.
Suddenly the Lam- ';
pasas, here some
twenty yards wide,
appeared before
them, flowing silent-
lyalong. Jockstared -.
as he saw the bed of _
the creek, shining as
if coated with silver;
even the flock drew
back in affright at '- _
the strange sight. RUTHVEN A
Don Quixote how-
ever was thirsty, and in a moment stooped to drink,
but only to draw back with a sudden spluttering and
choking. It was the same with Ruthven's horses.
Hech, mon! It is just like this most meeser-
able Texas," said Jock, indignantly; "and is it to
pizen the sheep we have come hither?"
It's only the sulphur, Jock," Ruthven ex-
plained. For he knew that the whole Lampasas
region was full of medicinal springs, in which
were all sorts of queer-tasting waters, sulphur
being the strongest of all.
Several days passed before old Jock, his flock,
or the horses could reconcile themselves to these
waters. In less than a month, however, they all be-
gan to endure the horrid taste; in two months they
drank the water with eagerness. Some day this
Lampasas country will be as famous as Saratoga.

May was a busy month, both at the sheep
ranch on the Lampasas and at the house at Man-
chac Springs. And on June 3, the whole family
arrived at the new home, with their -horses, cows,
and a score or so of Mexican sheep. Only the
most necessary housekeeping articles had been
taken along, most of the household goods having
been leased to the Edwards family.
The newness of everything, the change of air
and scene, the perpetual pressure of "getting

settled" did them all good, and the young people
had never been happier than during the weeks
when they worked like Trojans, out in the pure
air from dawn to dark.
"I never knew that food could taste so well,"
Hessie often declared; "and as to sleep-why, it
is perfectly delicious to sleep as I do !".
It is hard to explain just what forms the singu-
lar charm of the Lampasas region--whether the
rolling hills, deep with the sweetest of grass; the
peculiar dark green of the groups of live-oaks, or
the transparent purity of the air and the sky.
The distant hills hang in the horizon like folds of
emerald fleece, and there is a sort of velvety smooth-
ness in the vast landscape, changing through all
shades of verdure as the shadows of the clouds
chase one another over the prairies.


The Fourth of July was celebrated with especial
vigor by all, for it seemed a double holiday to this
happy family, freed from the tyranny of debt and
"We are independent of the world!" cried
Waldo, as he fired a great salute.
And he was right. For much had been accom-
plished. Upon the noble hill, in the center of its
diadem of oaks, a four-room cedar cabin had been
erected, a twelve-foot hall running through the
center, and smaller shed-rooms in the rear,- the
whole sweet with the fragrance of cypress clap-

He was over sixty-- over seventy for all anybody
knew-and as gray and craggy as one of his
Scotch hills. Not Damon and Pythias were more
inseparable than were Jock and Don Quixote, the
big Merino ram whose horns swept back from his
black nose, giving his kingly head the aspect of
Gibraltar. By day-break the ram, the ewes, and
their keeper were upon the sunny slopes; before
dark, for fear of wolves, the same companions were
together in the sheep-fold of wattled stakes, Jock
sleeping in a long shed opening into the fold, his
two shepherd collies, Laddie and Scotty, at his


boards and cedar walls and floors. Near the cabin
were a long stable, store-rooms for supplies and
for the future fleece, and a kitchen-garden, planted
with potatoes, onions, cabbage, and other needed
vegetables. The Mexican laborers had a camp of
their own, and Uncle Cyrus, slipping off before
day with Waldo, would rarely return to a late
breakfast without an abundance of large or small
. "The only thing that keeps me uneasy, Jock,"
Mrs. Frierson often said to the old Scotchman,
"is that you have to leave us so soon."
;" Were ye iver in Scotland, mem ?"
That was about the only reply Jock would
ever make.

feet. The old man was almost as silent as his
charges, and seemed to live but for two things:
first, to get back to Scotland at the earliest possible
moment; second, to secure Don Quixote, his ewes
and lambs free from harm until he must leave them.
He 'd know," said Waldo, "if a mouse ran
through the fold. And when it is too dark to see
the sheep, he goes among them to make sure by
actual handling that they are all there."
Jock and Don Quixote have never been sepa-
rated since the old man went to Spain with Prince
Braunfels to select the sheep," Ruthven explained,
" and Jock believes that what the patriarch Abra-
ham was to the children of Israel, Don Quixote is
to be to all American sheep."






S"I do love to see the old man," said Bessie,
"out on the prairie, half lying on the grass, the
sheep feeding around him, the dogs by his side.
Every now and then he glances up from under
his heavy eyebrows, says a word to Laddie and
Scotty, and off they dash, rounding the sheep to-
ward a fresh pasturage, Jock following on behind.
If we can only make him like us, perhaps he will
give up his dream of Scotland and be content to
stay with us."
Just then, with the noise of shouting and sing-
ing, with loud laughter and hallooing, there dashed
helter-skelter past the ranch a band of two or
three hundred men, some in a sort of half uniform,
some in red mining-shirts and all dusty, dirty,
sunburned, and slouch-hatted. Mrs. Frierson-
would have been terrified had not the men lifted
their hats to her as they rode by.
"They are Texas rangers!" cried Waldo ex-
citedly. They 've been out fighting Apaches."
Then he disappeared and an hour after returned
from a long talk with some of the rangers.
"I was right," he said. They have been out
fighting the Apaches. How I wish I could have
gone with them One of them gave me this hand-
ful of Indian arrows. They told me "
It is unnecessary to repeat here what Waldo had
been told. But the coming of this band of Texas
rangers was to again change matters wonderfully
in the Frierson household,



ON the Wednesday following the October Mon-
day on which the rangers rode by, Waldo and his
uncle were hunting along the trail upon which the
rangers had come, some twelve miles north-west of
the ranch on the Lampasas. Suddenly Waldo's
quick eye, now trained to all signs of game, de-
tected a bear on the prairie. The recognition was
mutual. The bear made for a bayou thickly
fringed with cotton-wood and pecan trees, Waldo
hard after him. Reaching the deep ravine, the two
hunters separated, Uncle Cyrus standing with gun
in readiness, Waldo beating the underbrush below,
with many a yell and shout. Soon Uncle Cyrus's
gun rang out once, twice, and Waldo found the
dying bear lying at the bottom of the ravine in a
foot or two of muddy water.
Stake the horses, Waldo, and fetch along the
spare rope," said Uncle Cyrus. We '11 have to
noose this old chap around the neck and drag him
up the baik."
Waldo did as directed, and was returning with
the rope, through the underbrush, when suddenly

he gave a yell and a leap in the air that brought
his uncle to him, post-haste.
What 's the trouble ?" he asked.
There-look there Waldo replied, in open-
eyed astonishment pointing to the ground at his
Uncle Cyrus, too, stared in surprise; for there,
just before them, stretched out by the water, lay an
Indian, apparently dead. He was terribly emaci-
ated, hideous with war-paint, his eyes closed, and
his hands drawn together on his breast. What
seemed especially strange was the absence of any
weapon upon or near the body.
"Take care, Waldo cried Uncle Cyrus in
warning. "An Apache is a dangerous customer! "
But Waldo was already bending over the Indian;
and as he studied his face, he thought he detected
a slight twitching in the left eyelid. -Kneeling be-
side the poor fellow, the lad lifted the long and
bony arm and disclosed a bullet-hole in the left side.
Placing his ear close to the heart he listened a
moment, and then crying out, Oh, Uncle! he's
alive Waldo ran to where the horses were staked
and returned with a flask of whisky, always carried
on these hunting expeditions for fear of snake-bites.
After working over the Indian some time, Waldo
and his uncle were rewarded by seeing the eyes
slowly open. Then Waldo started back in terror,
as, with a look of hatred and ferocity, the wounded
man made a desperate struggle to ri-e, and fell
back motionless.
He 's one of the rangers' wounded prisoners,"
Uncle Cyrus explained, "and a chief, doubtless,
or they would not have tried to bring him in.
He played dead,' and then crawled off here from
their camp."
And so it proved. For, as they learned after-
ward, this was none other than Hungry Wolf, a
fierce Apache chief.
Somehow, between them, Waldo and Uncle
Cyrus managed to bring this sorely-wounded savage
to the ranch. And here a strange thing occurred.
Old Jock took a deep interest in the wounded
Apache, sharing his cabin with him, keeping him
clean, dressing his wound, and cooking mutton
broth for him.
Though he had been shot through the lungs, there
was just a bare chanceof the Indian's recovery; but
for a long time it was an impossibility for him to
move, much less to escape.
For weeks Hungry Wolf was almost literally a
wolf- silent, sullen, enduring his agony without
a groan, glancing at every one with eyes wherein
venomous hatred slowly gave place to astonish-
ment, and this, still more slowly, to gentleness.
"We must remember," Mrs. Frierson said,
"that this man is not a savage merely. Many



generations of savagery are in his blood. Such
things as pity, forgiveness, gratitude, love, or even
kindness to any one, least of all to an enemy,-
why really, my dears, a wolf is not more ignorant
of such things than is he. And yet he is a hu-
man being, and we can only do our best for him."
So it became a regular thing for Hessie and
Bessie to carry him appetizing food, and for Ruth-
yen and.Waldo to try to encourage him by gestures
and smiles, and gifts of
tobacco.- But l most ofall,he
seemed totake to old Jock.
"Did you know," Bes-
sie said one day, "that
Jock reads to I HungryWolf
cially on Sun-
day, and from
the Bible. Of
coursehe must
know that the
Indian can't
understand a
word. Per-
haps he
thinks the
very sound
maydo him
good." A
it did.
The poor
would lis-
ten as if
he did understand,
and every one could
see that he was growing gentler.
Gradually he and Jock came to under-
stand each other in one sense.
It was now apparent that he could never re-
cover, but all through the winter he could no more
be induced to go into more comfortable quarters
than could Jock. And one morning, just as the
winter closed with a very severe storm, Hungry
Wolf was found in the cabin, dead.
It was not until he was buried and they all were
speculating what he might have been had he grown
well beneath their care and attention, that Uncle
Cyrus made known a matter which had hitherto
been a secret between old Jock and himself.
Very slowly the Apache chief had grown grate-
ful for the astonishing kindness shown him. He
must have known that he had not long to live;
and one Sunday afternoon he suddenly arrested
Jock's monotonous reading and began to tell;

in the sign language they had established, of
a place in the Sierras, unknown to the whites,
where 'silver could be found. Silver, he knew,
meant wealth for the white man; and wealth for his
kind friends, whom he had grown in his savage
way to like, meant comfort and satisfaction. And
so, before he died, he revealed the secret which,
as Uncle Cyrus said, "was as strong as death to
the Apaches; for to tell it wasi almost the same as
betraying their mountain fastnesses to the whites."
It was wonderful how clearly in his sign language
Hungry Wolf could locate the metal. Now he
made motions as if ascending, then of descending;
now, he seemed to be crawling on his hands and
knees as if through the underbrush; now, as if


going up and down canyons, the sides of which he
could almost touch with his extended hands; now,
by a rapid motion of his fingers and a noise of his
lips he intimated that water was flowing by. Old
Jock contrived to take notes of it all, and when
at the end of his imaginary travels Hungry Wolf
threw up his hands and looked over his shoulder
at'the shepherd, old Jock exclaimed, "There 's
wheer the siller is Yes, I see I see "




Then Jock told Uncle Cyrus, and after many
weeks of gestures and signs, and a frequent use
of names and maps and savage localities, at last a
rough map was draughted, upon which, at a seem-
ingly clearly indicated point, according to Hungry
Wolfs directions, silver would be found.
"And there, Bessie, you have my secret, my
long cherished plan," Uncle Cyrus said to his
sister. You know I once spent a summer
among those mountains, and I know that the
country is full of gold and silver. I am of no use
here; Ruthven is amply able to direct and care
for everything, and we must make money faster.
Before you know it, the girls and boys will be too
old to go to school, and they are worthy some-
thing better than roughing their lives out on this
ranch. Here is the chance for us to become
independent and regain all you have lost. Here
is wealth in our grasp. My plan has always been
for Waldo and myself-- "
Never Mrs. Frerson broke in, indignantly;
"never, so. far as Waldo is concerned! If you
tempt my boy to go off there with you, I tell
you frankly, Cyrus, I shall never forgive you "
And Uncle Cyrus knew that she was in earnest.
For a few days he seemed greatly cast down.
He had shown the family the map made out in his
conferences with old Jock and the Indian, and had
been full of enthusiasm.

Very well," he said at last, Waldo shall not
go with me. But go I must. There is nothing I
can do here. I am as certain of finding silver as I
am sure of my own existence. Let me succeed and
you will forgive me. But go I must! "
And go he did. He joined a party of prospect-
ors bound for some of the other mining districts in
Arizona. But Waldo remained behind, almost
desperate. He chafed and rebelled at what he
called the uneventful monotony of his daily life.
Another party of men is being made up to go,"
Ruthven told his mother. I am afraid that Waldo
will run away, if you do not let him join the party.
Suppose we risk it and let him go. He will join
Uncle Cyrus at once. There is not much danger,
and he will never be content until he has made
the experiment."
Mrs. Frierson was too sensible a woman not to
see how matters were tending. Reluctantly she
consented, and rapid preparations were made.
Waldo overwhelmed his mother with assurances
of how prudent he would be.
Almost before one could believe it, he was off,
having joined a party of twenty men. And so
the search for wealth began, and Hungry Wolf's
silver mine among the mountains of Arizona was
the secret magnet that drew both Waldo and his
uncle Cyrus away from the comforts and home
happiness of the ranch on the Lampasas.

(To be continued )





N. common with the children of workers
all over the world, little Boreas must
commence to take his share in the
S family toil as soon-as he is old enough
to learn and strong enough to. do.
Most of the sports of the boys are,
in fact, such as will enable them to
learn something that will be useful
later in life, such as playing with the young dogs,
harnessing and driving them, shooting with the bow
and arrow, and throwing the lance at live animals.
The girls, also, in making their dolls, learn to sew
and to make coats and other garments of reindeer
skin, and boots and shoes of sealskin leather.
When the men have very nearly finished build-
ing the igloo, the boys are expected to take the
big, broad wooden shovel, described in my first
article, and throw the loose snow against the sides
of the igloo ; for between the blocks of snow will be
many "chinks" and crevices that would let in a
great deal of cold air, if not stopped up. Besides
throwing on this loose, soft snow about two feet
deep, the boys have still another way of chink-
ing." Little Boreas, with the snow-knife in his
right hand, cuts from the upper edge of the block,
in the joint which is to be "chinked" a thin slice
of snow, and with his left fist doubled up rams it
into the joint between the blocks, his left fist keep-
ing a constant punching as the knife runs slowly
along the edge of the joint.
Of course, during the first three or four courses
of blocks, the boys (and sometimes the girls) can

"chink" the joints while they are standing or
kneeling on the ground; but after it gets above
and beyond the reach of their arms, they have to
crawl on top of the house, which looks so frail that
you are almost certain the little fellows will tumble
through the thin snow walls of the hut. But when
it is completed and made of good snow, three or
four big men can go on.top of it, so much stronger
is it than it appears to be. Sometimes, however,
the boys are surprised and disappointed; for, when
the snow is soft, or happens to be full of sand or
little specks of ice, they come tumbling through
the top of the igloo, generally on the heads of those
who are making the bed or setting up the lamp
inside of the house; and then the igloo has to be
built all over again. Fortunately, however, these
cases are of rare occurrence.
Sometimes, in very cold weather, the boys will
both "chink" and "bank" the igloo (banking
being the covering with loose snow), and then,
with a small lamp, it is quite easy to heat up the
little snow house to a comfortable temperature;
but this, you remember, must never rise to the point
where snow melts, or the house will come tumbling
in on their heads. After Boreas's father has cut
enough snow blocks to go two or three times around
the igloo, if there is no other man in the party, he
will tell Boreas to cut the rest; and the lad gener-
ally manages to furnish his father with enough
blocks to complete the house.
After the igloo is finished, the bedding of rein-
deer skins is taken from the sledge; but before
these go in-doors, the snow that has worked into
them (especially if there has been a strong wind

Copyright, by Frederick Schwatka, x885.




during the day) must be beaten off with a snow-
stick; and this comparatively light work generally
falls to the children, unless there is a great hurry to
get into shelter from some terrible wind, in which
case all the party turn to and work with a will.
When the house is finished, Boreas must see
that the dogs are unharnessed and turned loose.
The seal-skin harness; which the dogs would eat
if in their usual hungry condition, must be put
inside the snow house or fastened to the top of
a tall pole, stuck upright in the snow, so that the
dogs can not reach it.
In the morning, when the dogs are needed for
the day's work, the boys have to scamper around
with two or three harnesses in, their hands, catch
and harness the dogs, hitch them to the sledge,
and then start out after another lot. It frequently
happens that some particular dog takes an especial
delight in giving his catchers just as much trouble
as he possibly can. As soon as he sees that the
other dogs are being harnessed, he will trot away to
the top of some high ridge, and coolly sitting down,

ways noticed that, like spoiled children, they invari-
ably go from bad to worse, until finally their master
becomes so angry that he ties one of the dog's fore-
feet to its body every night, so that he will have no
trouble in catching the would-be runaway on the
next morning.
The dogs are also used in various ways in hunt-
ing. When the weather is so foggy that Boreas's
father can not see very far, and there is con-
sequently but little prospect of killing anything
unless the hunter almost stumbles upon it, the
father will take his bow and arrows, or his gun, if
he be fortunate enough to own one, and giving the
best-trained hunting-dog in charge of Boreas him-
self, they start out reindeer-hunting. Boreas puts
a harness on the dog, ties the trace around his.
own waist, or holds it in his hands, and follows
his father out into the fog.
Of course, the older Eskimo has some idea of
where the reindeer will be grazing or resting, and
he.soon finds out which way the wind is blowing
over the place where he suspects the reindeer to.


will maliciously watch the efforts made to catch
him. Of course, everybody now turns out, the
dog is surrounded, and probably after he has bro-
ken through the circle thus formed around him
two or three times, he is finally caught and receives
a severe trouncing from a harness-trace in the
hands of some angry young Eskimo; but this les-
son seldom does the dogs much good, as I have al-

be. Then, with Boreas and the dog, he goes around
in such a way that the game will not be disturbed,
to some place where the wind blowing over the
reindeer will come toward.the hunters. As soon
as this place is reached, the dog smells the rein-
deer, and commences sniffing the air as if anxious
to go toward them. Boreas allows the dog to
advance slowly, still holding on to the harness so&



that it shall not run away. As soon as the dog
scents the deer, it goes directly toward them, and
when it is quite near, it grows excited, and com-
mences to jump and to jerk the harness-trace by
which Boreas is holding it; being a well-trained
hunting-dog, however, it never barks so as to
frighten the deer by the sound.
Boreas's father now knows from these .excited
actions of the dog that the reindeer must be close
at hand, although he can not see them for the fog.
So he tells Boreas to hold the dog and remain in
that spot while he takes his bow or gun and crawls
cautiously forward in the proper direction. Before
he has gone far, probably not more than twenty or
twenty-five yards away, the huge forms of two or
three reindeer loom up through the fog. If he is a
good hunter he will at least bring one down, and
perhaps two or three of them, and so have some-
thing for supper. When there is snow on the
ground, the boy will generally take two or three
dogs along, and after a reindeer is killed, will use
them to drag it into the snow house. As Boreas
loves excitement, this is good sport, and in this way
he soon learns to hunt quite well.
The ice on the ocean forms from six to ten feet
thick, and through this deep ice the seals manage
to scratch a hole to the top, and then form a little
igloo in the foot or two of snow that usually covers
the ice. In the top of this little snow dome is an
opening as large as your two fingers; and to this

the dog will scent a seal-hole a hundred yards
away, and will lead the hunter to it. As it is very
uncertain just how long he will have to wait for the
seals, the hunter proceeds at once to cut out two or
three blocks of snow to make a comfortable seat on
which to rest and wait. As I have already said, the
seal breathes, or "blows," as it is called, every
fifteen..or twenty minutes; but oftentimes he is
traveling, and each time comes up to a different
hole to blow. It is.possible, too, that he may hear
or smell the hunter or his dog,- for seals are very
timid animals,-in fact, there are many reasons
why the hole may not be visited by a seal for a long
time, and after watching for a wholeday, the hunter
may have to leave the place, unrewarded. Where
the natives, as is often the case, have been almost
starving, owing to the scarcity.of seals and other
game on which they live, the best and most patient
seal-hunters have been known,to sit for two or
three days at one hole watching vigilantly for a seal's
nose. But, however long it maybe before "pussy"
(as the seals are sometimes called) comes around
to breathe a little whiffof fresh air, as soon as the
first blow is heard by the hunter, who is, per-
haps, half asleep, he is at once full of expectation
and excitement. He places the point of his seal-
spear close to the "blow-hole," and by the time
"pussy" has taken two or three whiffs she is
astonished by a sudden thrust of the spear crush-
ing through the dome of snow; the cruel barb on


igloo the seal comes, about every quarter of an
hour, to breathe. When he puts his nose close to
the little hole at the top of the dome for some fresh
air, he breathes in a series of short gasps that any
one near the hole can readily hear. These holes
are so small that even the close-observing Eskimo
hunters, while walking over miles of ice-fields,
Could easily pass them by without observing them.
But if there is a dog along, as in reindeer-
hunting, and if the wind is in the right direction,
and a seal has been breathing recently in the igloo,

the spear-point catches into her flesh underneath
the skin, and the hunter draws her to the top of
the ice, crushes in the snow with his heavy heel,
and then kills the captured seal.
Sometimes the mother seal seeks a breathing-
hole under the deepest snow and makes a much
larger dome, so that the ice will form a shelf two
or three feet in width. Here the little "kittens,"
or baby seals, spend their time until they are big
enough to try to swim with their mother and learn
to care for themselves. Here, too, she brings





7 -0



them food, and when disturbed, hurries away,
leaving her kittens on their ice shelf, where they
are safe from harm, because they are of the same
color as the snow and, therefore, can not be seen
by the wolf or bear who is out seal-hunting. The
Eskimo, however, when he comes to one of these
igloos,. has an instrument like a long knitting
needle, which he sticks in through the blow-hole,
and, working it around, soon finds out whether
any babies are to be kidnapped from Mother Seal's
snow house.
After little Boreas's father has gone into camp,
and while he is building his snow house, the boys of
the party go to work to dig a hole through the ice
on the fresh-water lake, near where the camp is
built, in order to get fresh water, with which to
cook supper. The first thing necessary is to select
a good spot for the well, which is generally about
a foot and a half or two feet in diameter, and from
four to eight and ten feet deep, depending, of course,
upon the thickness of the ice.
But, before they begin to dig, the boys fling
themselves down on the ice, even flattening their
noses hard against it, so as to bring their eyes as
close to it as possible. From some peculiarity

in the color and appearance of the ice they can
judge as to there being water underneath it, for
there is nothing so disappointing, after having
dug the well five or six feet down, as to find lumps
of ice coming up full of mud or sand, showing that
the bottom is dry. The boys, however, seldom
make a mistake in their observations, although
now and then they will get "fooled" about it, and
will find that they have spent a quarter of an hour's
hard work for nothing.
The deeper the snow has drifted on the ice the
thinner the ice will be, as the snow protects it
during the intense cold, just as in our climate the
deep snow protects the delicate plants on the
ground, and keeps them from being killed by the
coldest weather. And as it is so much easier to
shovel off the soft snow than to dig through the
hard ice, the boys always look for a deep snow-drift
very near to the spot where they have peered
through the ice and seen clear water beneath. If
they can get near a crack that extends entirely
through the ice, it will also make it much easier
to dig the well, as one side is thus already pre-
pared for them.
Having selected as favorable a place as possible,


they commence their digging. The first instru-
ment used is nothing more than a chisel, a bay-
onet, or a sharpened piece of iron, lashed on the
end of a pole, ten or twelve feet long. With this
they cut a circular hole in the ice of about two feet
in diameter, and a foot deep. Then, when it be-
comes difficult to use the ice-chisel, they scoop out
the accumulated pulverized ice with thin ladles
made from musk-ox horn, of which I told you in a
former paper. One of these ladles is also lashed
to a long pole, and is used to dip the cut ice out
of the well. And so the boys work away at their
well, first cutting down a foot or so with their ice-
chisels, and then scooping it out with their ladles,
then cutting again, then scooping, until finally
they have bored clear through, and the fresh
water comes rushing up to the top, and all the
thirsty people in camp, who have had no water
all day,- as well as the dogs, which are equally
thirsty,--get a good drink, and have plenty of
water with which to prepare supper.
If the boys had not been successful in finding
water, the girls would be obliged to collect a lot of
ice or snow, and melt it in the stone kettles over
the igloo lamps, and atleast an hour would be wasted
before their hot supper would be ready -and this
is quite a serious affair, as in that terribly cold
country, people want their supper just as soon as it
can be made. Besides this, a great deal of oil
would have had to be used in melting the ice and
snow, and oil is very precious.
In digging the ice-well, the boys are careful to
keep the hole the same diameter away down to
the water, especially when they come near the
bottom, for if there are any fish in the lake or river
they will try to catch them through this hole in the
ice. Most of the lakesand rivers of the Arctic regions
of North America are full of delicious salmon, and
the poor Eskimo who have to eat so much fishy
seal meat and strong-tasting walrus flesh, appre-
ciate these fine salmon much more than do we,
with our great variety of food. Their fish-lines
are made of reindeer sinew, and are much stronger
than are our lines. The fish-hooks are simply
bent pieces of sharpened iron or copper, and as
they are not -barbed at the end the native fisher-
man has to pull in very fast when he hooks his
fish, or he will lose it, as every boy knows who has
fished with a pin-hook.
If a lake is well stocked with fish, the natives
will often camp by it for two or three days and dig
a number of holes, so that the women, and every
boy and girl as well, can be busy catching salmon
while the hunters are roaming over the hills looking
for reindeer and musk-oxen. Here they will sit,
on a couple of snow-blocks, nearly all day long,
holding the hook a couple of feet below the ice.

and bobbing it continually to attract the notice of
the fish. Sometimes they attach small, polished
ivory balls near the hook, to attract the fish, which
seeing them, from a long distance, dancing up
and. down and glistening in the light, at once
swim up and try to eat the reindeer bait on the
bent hook, to their certain and speedy disgust.
As a protection from the wind, the young fishers
often build a sort of half igloo, and shelter them-
selves behind it. This also serves as a place to
hide the fish that are caught; for there are always
a crowd of half-starved dogs sneaking about, try-
ing by hook or crook to steal a fish.
: But this is not the only way that the Eskimo boys
and girls have of catching fish. In the spring of
their year, about the middle of our summer-time,
when the ice is breaking up and running out of
their rivers, they catch fish in great quantities at
the rapids in the rivers, :and store them away for
use in the winter.. For this purpose they use a
curious spiked and barbed fish-spear, which is
shown in the illustration on the preceding page.
When the fish are very numerous, the men and
women, as well as the boys and girls, manage to
get a footing on some rock in the rapids, where
they can stand easily, and, as the fish rush by, they
impale them on these spears until great quantities
have been caught. The fish are then split open,
and spread over double rows of strings stretched
from rock to rock. Here they are left to dry,
though in the cold, short arctic summer the fish only
become about half as well dried, as they would in
our climate. These dried fish are then stored in
seal-skin bags and kept for future use; a great
many are fed to the dogs to put them into good
condition for the winter.
When the reindeer have been killed, their skins
are stretched on the ground to dry, with.the hairy
side down, and although they may freeze as stiff as
a board, in the course of a week or two the water
will dry out of them. These skins are then taken
and put through a process by means of which they
are made as nice and soft as a piece of buckskin or
chamois-skin,- or, if it be a fawn reindeer, as soft
as a piece of kid. This is done by scraping them
with a peculiarly shaped instrument which tears.
,off all the flesh that may have adhered, and scrapes
away the inner thick skin that makes the hide so
stiff and unpliable. When the skins are thick and
heavy, the men do the work, for it is'then very
difficult; but otherwise the women, and very often
the little girls, scrape the skins and give the fin-
ishing touches, and then make them up into
coats, dresses, stockings, slippers, and all sorts
of clothing.
For cutting these reindeer skins into shapes for
garments, a very queer kind of scissors is used.





It is, in fact, a kind of knife, and an odd knife
at that. It looks very much like the knife that
is used by saddlers and harness-makers; and
when it is used in cutting, it is always shoved
away from the person using it. This knife is used
for everything that is to be done in the way of
cutting, from seal and reindeer skin to the thin-
nest and most fragile strings. At meals, too, some
one will put to his mouth a great piece of blub-
ber or fish as big as your fist, seize as much as he
can with his teeth, grasp the rest in his hand, and
cut off a huge mouthful with this knife. If you
were watching him, you would feel certain that
he would slice off his nose in this awkward
movement, but the Eskimo are so very dexterous

that there is not the slightest danger of such an
When the reindeer skins have been dressed, and
made up into garments, and these have been put
on,- girls and boys, men and women, are dressed
so nearly alike, that at any considerable distance
you cannot tell them apart.
The Eskimo girl wears a long apron. And just
over her shoulders, her coat-sleeves swell out into
large pockets; and in her stockings, just above
the outer part of the ankles, she also has pockets,
in which she keeps her sewing, moss for lamp-
wicking, a roll of sinew for thread, and any other
similar article that she may need to carry with


BY D. W. C. L.

THREE little flies in the room, on a pane -
Three little flies just outside, in the rain.

Said the three little flies as they hummed on
the pane,
To the three little flies who were out in the
rain :
'Don't you wish you were here on this side of
the pane,
Instead of out there in the cold and the rain?
And then we must tell you there 's dinner
Though, really and truly, we have n't been

Said the three little flies outside in the rain
To the three little flies inside on the pane:
" We think it 's much nicer out here in the
Than shut up where you are, inside on the
And then there's more fun than the boys
have at ball *
In dodging the rain-drops as fast as they fall."

And now I am sure that my lesson is plain:
Whenever you feel there is cause to complain,
'Remember the three little flies on the pane,
And the three little flies just outside in the rain.



(Recollections ofa Page in Hie United States Senate.)




AND now, in this month sacred to Independence
Day, let us consider some of the memorable facts
in regard to that great epoch in our national career.
Of course, every young patriot knows all about
the origin of the Declaration of Independence;
the struggles and privations endured and the obsta-
cles overcome by our forefathers; the noble zeal
of the statesmen representing the people in the
Continental Congress; the achievements of our
battle-heroes both on land and on sea. From
Lexington to Yorktown, you can easily follow the
path of war.
But though familiar with the causes.that resulted
in the independence of the colonies, you may not
know the course of events that led to the formation
of the republic and the creation of its present form
of government, nor of the difficulties that accom-
panied the nation during the early period of its
career. You perhaps do not know that the most
arduous task remained to be done after the war
had closed. Liberty had been secured. How
was it to be maintained? That was the great
question to which Washington, Franklin, Hamil-
ton, and other leaders of the people applied the
power of their minds.
The great "Continental Congress," consistng
of representatives of the colonies, immortalized
itself by the Declaration of Independence on the
Fourth of July, 1776. It convened at Carpenter's
Hall (since known as Independence Hall), in the
city of Philadelphia, on the Ioth of May, 1775,'
and continued in session until 1781.
While the Declaration of Independence was still
under consideration in Congress, but before final
action upon it, a resolution was passed (June 11,
1776), appointing a committee

"To prepare the form of a confederation to be entered into be-
tween these colonies."

The committee performed the labors assigned to
it, and on the ISth of November, 1777, "Articles
of Confederation and Perpetual Union" were ap-
proved by Congress and submitted to the colonies
for their adoption. Those Articles were agreed to

by all the colonies and signed by their authorized
delegates in March, 1781. In the same month,
the First Congress under the new arrangement
; To this confederacy, thus entered into, was given
the name of "The United States of America," but
the States comprising it were like so many empires.
They did nothing more than enter into a friendly
league or partnership, in which each State retained
its "sovereignty, freedom, and power"-in other
words, each State had supreme control over its own
affairs, and the Congress itself could only meet and
discuss what ought to be done, without having
the power to say what should be done or to en-
force obedience. Congress could give advice, but
the States could follow it or disregard it, as they
Such a league, therefore, was found to be but a
worthless arrangement. To be sure, it could have
done no harm, even had it tried; but the purpose
in establishing it was to derive some benefit from
it; and the people soon discovered that it was
unable to do any work at all.
The upshot of the whole matter'was that Con-
gress advised that a convention of delegates, to be
appointed by the States, should be held at Phila-
delphia on the 14th of May, 1787, to suggest some
" remedy" (to quote the words of the resolution)
for these defects"; and the representatives were
accordingly chosen, and assembled on the 25th-
eleven days later than the time fixed.
These delegates were merely to "revise" the
articles of confederation, and report their opinions
to Congress and the various State legislatures.
But after a brief deliberation, they came to the con-
clusion that it was better to construct an entirely
new federation, vested with complete powers. In
other words, they resolved, on the 29th of May,
"That a national government ought to be estab-
lished, consisting of a supreme government, legis-
lative, executive, and judiciary."
With this in view, they began their work,
and kept steadily at it until they had finished. It
was a memorable event-that gathering of free
and independent States, quietly arranging to merge
their own sovereign rights into one mighty author-
ity, protective, general, central, and supreme!-
one of the grandest spectacles, as has been said,
recorded in the annals of the world And this,

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





boys and girls, is the wonderful story that is
epitomized in the motto of our republic:
E PLURIBUS UNUM One composed of many."
George Washington was chosen to preside over
that great constitutional convention. Finally, on
September 17, after a consultation of four months,
it forwarded its report, and presented to the
Congress of the Confederation the form of "a
more perfect Union" and government for that
Union. This was the Constitution to which I
have so frequently referred, and it was speedily
transmitted by Congress to the various State
legislatures, in order to be submitted to a con-
vention of delegates chosen in each State by the
people thereof."
It is needless, to dwell upon the ordeal of criticism
that it underwent in the State conventions. Eleven
of the thirteen States having given their assent, in
the mode of formal ratification,* the new Union
and government came into existence, and the
First Constitutional Congress of the United States
assembled in the city of New York on the 4th of
March, 1789.
That Congress met in joint convention, and
counted the electoral votes previously cast for
President and Vice-President. This action re-
sulted in declaring George Washington and John
Adams duly elected to the respective offices
for the first term. On the 21st of that month, Mr.
Adams was, with proper courtesies, received by
the Senate and "introduced to the chair"; and
on the 3oth, as I have already described, General
Washington was inaugurated as President of the
United States.


HAVING thus recalled the several historic steps
by which our Government was formed, let me now
endeavor to help you to comprehend the theory as
well as the workings of that Government. To
properly understand the interests intrusted to the
Federal law-makers, it is necessary to remember
that at the time of the Revolution the people of this
country were gathered into various "communities"
or societies," called "colonies," under a certain
form of "government," which they found did not
protect their interests as it should have done. They
declared themselves "free and independent," and,
in doing this, asserted, in the following words, the
great principle which I have explained :
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created
equal; t that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalien-

able Rights; that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of
Happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted
among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destruc-
tive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abol-
ish it, and to institute new government, laying the foundation on
such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them
shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."

So they threw off the government of the King
of England, not only as a matter of right," but
as a matter of duty" to themselves and children,
and provided new guards for their future secur-
ity." Instead of" nations," they called their com-
munities "states"; and the people of each State
agreed upon a new arrangement, or government,
and appointed the necessary officers to attend to
the objects of that government.
But they all were engaged, during the Revolu-
tion, in fighting one great enemy. :They had,
therefore, a common interest; and so they said,
" Let us join hands, and help one another." They
did so,- and they won the fight.
But after they had won, the people of the
various States found that they were not only likely
to be attacked again by a common enemy, but
that they were also likely to get into wrangles
among themselves. The people of each State had
declared themselves free and independent; they
had had enough of fealty to a superior power;
they resolved to be their own sovereigns and govern
themselves, and thus assume among the nations
of the earth, that separate and equal station to
which the laws of Nature and of Nature's God"
entitled them.
It was, therefore, but natural that they should
have been disinclined to create and arm with wealth
and power a general government, that might also
be made to wield, some day, the scepter of tyranny
and oppression, and crush out the independence
of the States and the lives and liberties of the
people. They had writhed inder the lash of a
king, and they did not wish to establish a "sys-
tem" that might eventually become a worse des-
potism than that which they had escaped. So
they said, Let us enter into some sort of arrange-
ment, and appoint some men to make certain
rules, which shall be for our union and guidance.
And they did. They entered into the Articles
of Confederation." But, as I have explained,
this alliance of interests was found to'be unsatis-
factory. Once more the States counseled together,
and through their representatives determined to
make a wiser and more helpful arrangement, that,
in the words of these representatives, should "secure
a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domes-
tic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, pro-

* The remaining States (North Carolina and Rhode Island) added theirs later on.
t That is, born to equal rights.



mote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of dent Lincoln that I have taken all this space to
liberty to ourselves andourposterity "; and they de- bring to your attention, that the Government of
termined to appoint men enough and to give them the United States of America is: -
power enough not only to prescribe, but to carry out "A government of the people, by the people,
the regulations necessary to these common and andfor the people."
general needs. And I have made this explanation that you may
Yet they made a very natural and proper condi- understand the important principles which were
tion. The people of New York, for instance, said: voiced by the very preamble of the Constitution,
Now, we have already a government and officers and which speak in all our institutions and our
'of our own. We have certain interests which do laws !
not affect the people of Virginia or the people of CHAPTER XVIII.
other States; and we.should prefer that these offi-
cers should continue to attend to these special THOSE WHO EXECUTE THE LAWS AND THOSE
interests, because they are familiar with our local
affairs and wants, and can assist us, in those mat- OUR first law-makers patriotically began at once
ters, better than officers appointed from other to organize and equip the various branches of the
States." And the people of Virginia and other governmental service, and otherwise meet the in-
States said: "That suits us; for we, too, have tensions and requirements of the Constitution.*
special interests and governments and officers of They promptly arranged for defraying the expenses
our own, and we prefer our local officers to attendto of the new government by the levying of taxes.
our special wants.". And it was accordingly agreed Then followed various enactments, establishing
that the people of-the States should retain their certain executive departments, and furnishing them
various -State governments, with the understand- with clerks and other assistants. They also passed
ing, however, that the State officers should not the important "Judiciary Act," which created a
meddle with things that.concerned the people of system of. Federal courts, thus organizing the third
other States, and that, on 'the other hand, the coordinate branch of the government, and
Federal Governmeht and its officers should not putting into operation the mighty machinery of
interfere with the State governments or officeirsex- national law and justice.
cept in such matters as concerned the general and During their second and third sessions, moreover,
.common ifiterests of all the people, or about which the members of the First Congress established the
there might be conflict or ill feeling between the permanent seat of government at Washington,
people of two or more States. D. C.; f attended to banking and currency ques-
This agreement and arrangement is the Con- tions; arranged for the payment of the public debt
stitution. The people of all the States thereupon incurred prior to the new form of government in
became one great nation, with a great Federal Gov- maintaining the interests of the people; and sup-
ernment; and the' people of each State retained plied other wants of the nation. Their labors have
their local governments: been continued by subsequent Congresses, so that
But you are not to look upon this Federal Gov- now the Federal Government is a marvelous con-
ernment, or Republic, as a "club," or regard it trivance of thoroughness and order.
as simply a sort of "constabulary," or "police Let us look at the result of all this legislation
force." It has a grander purpose than to lock of the law-makers, so far as it bears upon the
people up, and preserve order in the streets. The general plan of the two other branches of the sys-
United States is a mighty nation. It represents tem,- the law-executors and law-interpreters.
the "sovereignty" of fifty millions of people. The executive power is, by the Constitution,
The officers of government are but the agents vested in the President;'t but the business in-
appointed by the people; and the people have trusted to the executive power is distributed, under
a right to remove those officers, whenever they the provisions of numerous enactments, among
desire other or better men to act for them. The seven established executive departments," as
government was created by the people,in the exer- follows:
cise of their own "sovereign authority"; it was I. The Department of State.
established for their benefit and welfare; and it 2. The Department of War.
is managed by the people, through agents chosen 3. The Department of the Treasury.
and paid by them. And these three great facts 4. The Department of Justice.
are embraced ii the memorable words of Presi- 5. The Post-office Department.
See Sec. VIII., Cl. 18.
t The struggle over this question had been started some years before, under the Confederation, and was fiercely continued by the First
Congress, members from various sections contending for different localities. The present location was agreed upon as a compromise,"
but actual possession of it by the Departments of Government was not taken until the autumn of the year 1800.
I Constitution, Art. II., Sec. I., Cl. i.





6. The Department of the Navy.
7. The Department of the Interior.

These departments are presided over by officers,
styled "Heads of Department," and known re-
spectively as the Secretary of State, Secretary of
War, Secretary of the Treasury, Attorney-general,
Postmaster-general, Secretary of the Navy, and
Secretary of the Interior. Together, they form
the Cabinet," or body of confidential advisers "
of the President, whose instructions it
is their duty to see carried out by i
the thousands of civil offc, irs
in the employ of the Gov- I
The duties of the va-
rious executive depart-
ments are, of course, I
almost infinite. The
State Department
was created on the *''i
27th of July, 1789,
by the name of "De-
partment of Foreign
Affairs;" but this
name was changed
within two months
afterward. The
Secretary of State
is first in rank of all -
the members of the
Cabinet. He is the
"right-hand man"
of the President;
attends to "the for-
eign interests of the
country, through its
ambassadors, minis-
ters, and other agents
abroad, or through the
diplomatic representa- 'sA.l
tives of foreign powers ac-
credited to the United States;
conducts the correspondence between the President
and the governors of the States; is custodian of the
great seal, and of the treaties and laws of the United
States, and in other ways is a very prominent
The Secretary of War has charge of the military
service, and, in that department, executes the orders

of the President, who is, by the Constitution, Com-
mander-in-chief of the Army.*
The Secretary of the Treasury superintends the
national finances. He is the tax-gatherer and pay-
master of the Government. From customs duties,in-
ternal revenue, and other sources, millions flow an-
nually into the public vaults, the key to which is kept
by the disbursing officer, or treasurer. The Secre-
tary must not let any of these funds slip away without
',.,, ,

. I.rl


permission of law, and every cent received and ex-
pended must be regularly accounted for. f

Constitution, Art. II., Sec. II., Cl. i.
t See Constitution, Art. I., Sec. IX., Cl. 7. The accounts of the government are stated by "fiscal" years, instead of by calendar years;
that is, beginning on the ist of July instead of the ist of January. An idea may be formed of the magnitude of these financial operations
from a few figures. During the fiscal year ended June 30, I884, the "net ordinary receipts" of the Government were $348,519,869.92, and
its "gross receipts," $555,397,755.92; and during the same period, its "net ordinary expenditures" were $189,547,865.85, and its
"gross expenditures," $504,646,934.83. And although up to the year r861 neither the gross receipts nor the gross expenditures, in any
one year, reached $ioo,ooo,ooo.oo, but, on the contrary, averaged far below, the total gross receipts of the Government from its beginning
in 1789 to June 30, 1884, amount to $ar;o78,o87,835.31, and its gross expenditures to $2o,650,486,o65.71.
VOL. XII.--45.


The Attorney-general gives the President his
opinion in regard to the meaning of congressional
legislation and other matters of doubt, when called
upon for legal advice, and represents the Govern-
ment in all law-suits in which its interests are
The Postmaster-general looks after the trans-
mission of the mail, and, as his title implies, is
chief of all the postmasters, mail-carriers, and
postal agents in the United States.
The Secretary of the Navy has charge of the
naval service, and therein executes the orders of
the President as Commander-in-chief of the Navy.
The Secretary of the Interior looks after the
Indians-the wards of the nation," the execu-
tion of the laws relating to patents, public lands,
and pensions, and he has charge of nearly every-
thing that does not come within the duties of the
other departments.
I have named the departments in the order of
their establishment by Congress. The Department
of the Interior was not established until 1849, and
the Attorney-general and Postmaster-general had
to wait some years before becoming cabinet officers.
Each .of these seven cabinet officers now receives
a salary of eight thousand dollars a year. They are
appointed by the President "by and with the ad-
vice and consent of the Senate."
To attempt to give you an idea of all the sub-
ordinate civil offices created by Congress would be
perplexing. The assistants to the Executive are
legion in number, and scattered far and wide.
The head-quarters of the Executive Departments
are, of course, at the city of Washington, and the
splendid structures assigned to their use have,
with the White House and Capitol, given to that
city the complimentary title of the City of Pal-
aces." Any one who passes the great Treasury
Building in the afternoon at about four o'clock,
when the army of clerks is leaving for the day,
readily understands why some folks have the notion
that every resident in the Federal city is a Govern-
ment officer. The clerks pour out from all the
doors in one continuous stream, to which there
seems to be no end. They are of all ages and con-
ditions. An old colored man, who has picked cotton
beneath the lash of slavery, comes merrily along,
proud of the fact thathe can now work for greenbacks
and support his family in comfort. A pretty girl,
thinking perhaps of a new hat or humming a tune
from an opera; a gray-haired veteran, familiar
with the secrets of many an administration of by-
gone years; a middle-aged woman, with a face
furrowed by the iron fingers of care, struggling to
maintain her orphaned children; a happy-go-
lucky, dandy-looking stripling, twirling his cane
with one hand and gracefully twisting his mus-

tache with the other,- these are but a few speci-
mens of those who follow in quick succession.
The judicial power of the Government is vested
in the Supreme Court and a number of inferior
tribunals.* The Supreme Court consists now of
the Chief-justice of the United States, with a salary
of $10,500 a year, and eight Associate Justices,
receiving $Io,ooo each. They are appointed
by the President, with the approval of the Senate.
The existence of this, the highest court in the land,
can not be disturbed by legislative power, and the
justices can only be removed from office by pro-
ceedings of impeachment.
Next to the Supreme Court come the nine Cir-
cuit Courts and, then, the numerous District
Courts of the United States, the judges of which
are appointed in like fashion. The powers of these
various courts are, in general, to decide all cases
which involve any Federal law; and, to assist them
in their work and enforce their mandates and de-
crees, there is a multitude of clerks, marshals,
and other officers.
Such, in brief, are the Executive and Judicial
Departments of the Government.



THIS great system, you will remember, is not
the work of a day. The three powers of govern-
ment were furnished by the Constitution; yet to
provide for the wielding of those powers has de-
manded a century of legislation. But, however
otherwise complete or incomplete in the organiza-
tion of its government and its ability to transact
business as a nation, it would have been humiliat-
ing indeed if the Republic, in its early days, had been
too poor to display a Great Seal to give authentic-
ity to its official acts and records, or to flourish a flag
as evidence of national sovereignty! The old Revo-
lutionary forefathers understood the proprieties,"
as well as the eternal fitness of things; and it is a
curious fact, as indicating the importance attached
to a seal, that this matter was considered by the
Continental Congress on the very day on which
the Declaration of Independence was read, and the
separate existence of the States was proclaimed to
the world. After the signing of the Declaration, on
the 4th of July, 1776, and before the adjournment
for the day, a committee was appointed- consist-
ing of Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and
Thomas Jefferson-" to prepare a device for a
seal for the United States of America." Although
the committee made a report within a few weeks,
no decisive action was taken for six years. On the
20th of June, 1782, however, the Congress of the

Constitution, Art. III., Sec. I., Cl. i.




Confederation adopted a device for the Great Seal
of the United States.
This device is shown by the accompanying illus-
trations.* It was used by the old General Con-
gress; and by an Act of the First Congress under
the Constitution (September 15, 1789), it was
adopted as the Great Seal of the United States, to
be kept by the Secretary of State, and affixed by
him to proclamations and other executive instru-
ments and acts.
The subject of a flag or standard was also consid-


ered in the Continental Congress; and, on the
14th of June, 1777, this resolution was passed:

Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen United Statesbe thirteen
stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars,
white, in a blue field, representing a new constellation.t

The admission into the Union, after the estab-
lishment of the present Government, of Vermont
and Kentucky as new States, caused the number
of stars and stripes to be increased to fifteen each;
and the subsequent addition of five other States

led to the following enactment, which is yet in
force, approved on the 4th of April, 1818.

AN ACT to establish the flag of the United States.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Refresentatives ofthe
United States of America in Congress assembled, That from and
after the 4th day of July next, the flag of the United States be thir-
teen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union be
twenty stars, white in a blue field.
SEc. a. And be itfurther enacted, That on the admission of
every new State into the Union, one star be added to the union of
the flag; and that such addition shall take effect on the 4th day of
July then next succeeding such admission.f


Whenever, therefore, an American sees this
glorious ensign of his country, the stripes recall to
his mind the birth of the Republic, with the events
that surrounded it; the stars suggest its wonderful
development in size, in resources, and in power;
and, in homage to the national grandeur and pro-
tective authority which it represents, wherever he
beholds it,- whether in mid-ocean floating at the
head of a passing ship, or waved aloft in the streets
of foreign lands,- he lifts his hat to it with a pa-
triotic feeling of filial love and pride.

The eagle and arrows are familiar to all schoolboys. The "reverse," or unfinished pyramid is seldom if ever used. The motto
"E fluribus Unum "one composed of many "-is well known. The mottoes on the reverse, "A nnuit Copiis and Novus ordo
Seclorum," mean respectively, Heaven favors the undertaking and A new order of things."
t For interesting particulars concerning the origin of this device see ST. NICHOLAS for November, 1883, p. 66.
V (To becontinued.) J

OUR FLAG IN 1776 AND IN 185.


(A Series of Brief Pafers concerning the Great lMusicians.)



"THERE can be but one Mozart." How often
have these words been repeated by all who are
familiar with the music of this immortal master, the
prince of melody! Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
was born at E.Iabu,;i .L: Au-tra January 27, 1756.
His musical career bear in his infancy. His re-
markable genius, together with his serious face,
caused the fear that he would not live to grow up.
His sister, Marianne, had considerable musical tal-
ent, and while her father was giving her lessons,
Wolfgang would employ himself in picking out
thirds. He soon received instruction with her on
the clavier. He was a sweet, tractable child, ap-
plying himself to whatever, was set for him to
learn; but soon everything was given up for music.
At the age of six, he composed a concerto for the
piano, so difficult that his father could not play it,
and Wolfgang was obliged to show him how it
should go. Wolfgang then began to study the
violin, and one day, when some musicians were
practicing together at his father's house, he begged
that he might join- them. His father requested
him to play very softly so as not to disturb .the
others; but he played so beautifully that the
second violin, whom he accompanied, soon ceased
and left Wolfgang to finish alone. The child was
of a sunny and loving disposition, and would often
say: "Next to God comes Papa." He wished he
could "put his papa under a glass case, so that he
could never escape from home," and once, when
away from home, he '" sends his mamma a hun-
dred million kisses, and kisses Marianne's nose and
The father now determined to travel with his
little prodigies, and in 1762 they visited Vienna,
where they were enthusiastically received. The
emperor, when he first heard Wolfgang perform,
called him the "little magician." The children
were petted by the whole court, and Wolfgang
hugged and kissed the Empress Maria Thdresa and
the little Princesses; before leaving, the children
were painted in full court costume. They next
played in London and Paris, completely fascinating
the public, and in Paris a painting was made in
which we see Wolfgang at the harpsichord, with
his sister by his side, and behind them his father
playing on the violin. They next traveled in Italy,
where they created a great sensation. While at

Rome they heard Allegri's Miserere," at the
Sistine chapel, a work so prized that people were
forbidden to copy it; but Wolfgang took a few
notes, and after reaching home, copied it all from
memory. At Naples, the people thought his won-
derful improvisations were due to the magic prop-
erties of airing which he wore; but when he re-
moved it, and still the enchanting sounds fell from
his fingers, their admiration knew no bounds.
In 1773, the family returned to Salzburg, where
young Mozart worked steadily until he was twenty-
one. He was now anxious to travel and establish
himself in his profession; and as his father was
unable to leave his business, the mother accom-
panied her boy to Paris; but to part with Wolf-
gang was a severe trial to the father.
From that time on, misfortune seemed to pursue
this gifted man. Thenceforth he was never free
from trouble and sorrow. On arriving at Paris,
he found that the public had forgotten the little
boy who but a few years before had captured all
their hearts; his efforts to support himself were
unsuccessful, and it is pitiful to read of the slights
he sometimes endured. In 1779 he returned to
Salzburg unsuccessful and disheartened. He staid
there until 1781, when he left for Vienna, which he
made his home for life. He now began a steady
battle against the poverty which was always threat-
ening him. If he left the city, some creditor was
the last person to bid him farewell, and some
wretched debt was his first welcome on his return.
His wife, Constance Weber, to whom he was mar-
ried in 1782, though devoted to him, was unfortu-
nately a poor manager; the young people con-
stantly changed their lodgings, and the house was
never in order. The Emperor, who could have
relieved all Mozart's distresses by giving him a
court position, was dissuaded from doing so by the
jealous and inferior musicians who surrounded him.
It seemed as if nothing were too petty nor too cruel
for some of these men to do, and no other musician
ever suffered such wrongs at the hands of his
brother artists as did Mozart. He worked inces-
santly at anything which would bring in money,
even to giving lessons; yet he never had any-
thing, and his appeals to his friends for help were
pitiful. But through all his troubles Mozart kept
his sunny disposition; a friend who once found him
and his wife dancing about the room was astonished
when told they did it to keep warm, as there was no



wood in the house. In 1785, his father visited him,
and was delighted to find his son's affairs in a better
condition, and his position in the musical world very
high. Haydn, who dined with them, said: I rec-
ognize your son as the greatest composer I ever
heard of." The friendship between Haydn and
Mozart was strong and lasting; each loved and
admired the other. In 1782 Mozart dedicated six
quartets to his "dear Papa Haydn."
Shortly after his opera of Figaro had been
successfully produced in May, 1786, Mozart gladly
accepted an offer to play at Prague. On arriving,
he found the streets ringing with his music.
"Every one," he wrote home, "dances here to
the music of 'Figaro'; nothing is sung but
' Figaro'; no opera so crowded as 'Figaro';
forever 'Figaro.' Perhaps nowhere in Mozart's
career did he meet with higher appreciation than
during this visit.
In October, 1787, after his return to Vienna,
Mozart produced his greatest opera, Don Gio-
vanni." As late as the night before the perform-
ance the overture had not been copied. Mozart
wrote on until late into the night, and his wife could
only keep him awake by telling him the old fairy
tales, such as he loved when a child; at times he
would break from laughter to tears, until, growing
more and more weary, he fell asleep. At seven the
next morning, hearose and finished the score, the
ink in some parts being scarcely dry when the
copies were placed on the musicians' desks. The
musicians had to play the overture at sight, but its
beauties aroused the greatest enthusiasm both in
the players and the audience. Mozart superin-
tended all the rehearsals, and inspired the singers
with his own ideas and feelings. He taught the
hero to dance a minuet, and when one of the sing-
ers failed to conquer his score, Mozart altered it on
the spot. At last the Emperor bestowed a court
position on Mozart, but the salary was so meager-
it was less than $5oo-that it was of little help to
him,'while his duty, to compose dance-music for
the court, was humiliating. Well could he reply,
when asked his income by the tax-gatherer, Too
much for what I do; too little for what I could do."
Handel's music had a profound influence over
him, and on hearing a motet of Bach's, he was
amazed, and said, Here is a man from whom we
can learn something," and he never ceased to study
Bach as long as he lived. At last poverty, per-
secution, and misfortunes of all kinds began to tell
upon Mozart, and his light spirits deserted him;
he grew very gloomy, and felt that he had not
long to live, nor did this feeling ever after forsake
him. During 1789 Mozart was obliged to travel
in order to eke out his income, and to procure
the funds to start on his journey he pawned his

plate. No wonder that he felt saddened and de-
pressed. When Haydn, before his London visit,
said farewell to Mozart, the latter replied: "' This
is our last farewell in this life." Haydn, who
was sixty years of age, thought Mozart referred to
him, but it was his own fate that Mozart prophe-
sied, and truly, for Mozart passed away while
Haydn was yet in London. After Mozart re-
turned to Vienna, he began to write the "Re-
quiem." His melancholy increased, and, finally,
his health broke down; he felt that he was writing
*his own requiem, and told his wife so; but he was,
nevertheless, much absorbed in his work, often
greatly tasking his strength. During his last ill-
ness, he asked some friends who had called upon
him, to take the different parts of the Requiem"
and sing it with him; all went well till the Lacri-
mosa" (a special section of the Requiem" near
the middle of the score), when he burst into tears,
and was unable to proceed. His last words were
an effort to tell where, in the Requiem," the ket-
tle-drums should play. He died on December 5,
1791. His wife was too poor to buy a grave for
him, and, as in the case of Bach before him, no
stone was placed to mark his grave; a furious
storm raged during the funeral, and but a hand-
ful of men out of all the great city of Vienna
followed him to the grave.
This same great city of Vienna, in which his
laborious life was passed in so much poverty and
distress, has just devoted $50,000 dollars to raising
a monument to his memory. This is more money
than Mozart received for all the work of his life,
and as a recent writer says: "It is a striking
inconsistency of fortune that this tribute should be
paid the great composer by the children of those
who allowed his life to be cut short by penury,
hardship and neglect."
Few are they who could follow the career of this
gifted man without the deepest pity ard sympathy.
Fortunate, indeed, it was for him, that he had an
ideal childhood, for his manhood was as great a
contrast to it as is darkness to light. Nothing bit
his genius enabled him to bear up under the pov-
erty and persecution which beset him at every
step. No one less gifted could have lived on,
pouring out strain after strain of deathless music.
He could not help writing, and outward circum-
stances were nothing to him. He frequently
worked out an idea in his head, and wrote it with
the greatest ease, "as people write letters." He
preferred to compose at night, and some of his
loveliest creations were born with the morning
light. His music always told the story of his
heart, and so every one loves it. As long as
music lives Mozart will live; his music is his





ON a large farm, there was an old cat with five little kittens. One
of the kittens:was gray, like its mother; another was black, with one white
paw; a third was black all over; while the other two looked just alike.
The mother cat told her kittens to be kind and polite to every one,-
and to be very kind to dogs,-and each night, before going to sleep, she
made them repeat these words: "-Let dogs delight to bark and bite, but
little kittens never."
One day, a big dog named Sport came to live on the farm. Sport was
full of fun, and he thought that chasing cats was great fun. Near the barn
in which the cat and kittens lived, grew five large apple-trees; and when
Sport first saw the cat family, he thought what fun it would be to frighten
the mother into the hay-mow, and chase each one of the five kittens up a tree.
So he gave a loud bark, and sprang in upon the happy brood. To
his great surprise, the kittens, instead of arching their backs up to twice
their size, and hissing in an ill-bred way, all sat quite still, and looked
quietly at the stranger, to see what he was going to do next. Then
there was a long pause, followed by two short paws which the gray kit-
ten put out toward the dog, as though she would like to shake hands with
him if she only knew how. This so amused Sport that he tapped the kitten
very gently on the back, and then the cat, dog, and kittens were soon
rolling and tumbling about the barn floor in a frolic. From that moment,
Sport and the cat family were great friends.
Not many days after this, the five kittens were playing along the bank
of a small river which ran behind, the barn, and, spying a piece of board
which lay with one end on the ground and the other in the water, they
all jumped upon it. But they were no sooner upon it than the board broke
loose from the shore, and started down the stream !
The kittens were badly frightened, and cried aloud for help, and though
the old cat hurried out of the barn, she could not do anything for them.
She could only rush up and down the bank, and she was afraid that all
the kittens would be carried down to the mill-pond and over the dam.
But suddenly she heard a well-known bark, and the next moment Sport
-dear old Sport-was at her side! The good dog saw what the trouble
was at once, and the thought came to him that, if he should bark just as
loud as he could, some one might run down to the river to see what was


the matter, and then the kittens would be saved. So Sport began at once.
How he did bark!
In less than two minutes, one of the men came running toward them.
It was the farmer himself. He thought from the great noise Sport
was making that the dog must have found a family of wood-chucks, and
so when he caught sight of the kittens he began to laugh.
But then he took a long pole, and very slowly and carefully pulled
the kittens ashore. Then, he picked them up in his arms, and carried
them toward the barn, while the old cat and Sport walked on behind.
That night, the old cat asked her kittens what or who had saved their
lives that day.
"And we must n't count you ?" said two or three in one breath.
A smile lit up the face of the happy. mother as her little ones said this,
but she only saij'quietly:: 0 No; you need n't count me.
"Then," said' the all-black kit-
ten, it must have been the farmer."
"Or the long pole," said the
kitten which had one white paw.
"It was Sport!" cried the
little gray kitten,

"We owe a great deal to Sport," said their mother; "but most of all
to the fact that you have always tried to be polite and kind to every
one about you. Sport would never have come to save you if you had
been cross, ugly kittens, and I hope you will always remember the lesson
of this day,- will you ?"
I will," said the one white-pawed black kitten. "I will," said the
all-over black kitten. "We will remember," said the two that looked
just alike. "I will re mem b began the little gray kitten, but before
she could finish the sentence she was sound asleep !




HERE is a July Riddle for you !
What is that which bursts its tender coverings
and springs up full of life before it is sown ? It
may be called a distant cousin of the artillery fern,
which your Jack has already shown to you,* and
it is sown all over the country this month by in-
dustrious boys and girls who love the pretty red
and yellow things, and carry bunches of them
about-but that is before the above incidents have
Well, who said it was a flower? Not I, my
Now we may discuss
OH, Oh, Oh! where did all those letters come
from ? letters by hundreds, by thousands-letters
by quarts, by bushels, by heaps and hills. The
dear Little School-ma'am says she never before
saw so many letters at once; and they all are
addressed to Deacon Green in response to his mes-
sage last month: FIFTEEN OWNERS WANTED.
The little lady says he has been reading them from
morning till night, day after day, but he has not
yet been able to examine all that have come.
Aha here is the Deacon himself, with his hands
and pockets full of letters. His face is glowing with
happy pride, and he says:
Thank the youngsters for me, friend Jack, and
tell them they shall hear from me next month."

SO FAR, it seems that not one of my chicks has
been able to tell me, from personal observation, of
the very, very oldest apple-tree; but here is some-
thing from a fourteen-year-old English boy:
"In answer to your question as to the oldest-
known apple-tree, allow me, dear Jack," he writes,

" to send you the following account of a very noble
tree, and an American apple-tree to boot. It was
printed in last February's issue of Young Eng-
On the land of an old gentleman named Hotchkiss, living at
Cheshire, Connectic6t, is an apple-tree supposed to be, at the pres-
ent time, no less than x86 years old. It is said to be the last of an
orchard planted by the first settlers in that neighborhood. Mr.
Hotchkiss is over eighty years of age, and he has known and owned
this tree for nearly half a century. Some time ago, he informed a
gentleman that, when he was a boy, he heard'his grandmother say
that she used to playing her early childhood under its then broad
and sheltering branches. The body of the tree is four feet in diam-
eter up to the point where the limbs branch out. There are five
main branches, each of which is nearly two feet in diameter. Its
height is sixty feet, and from its outermost branches, apples falling
perpendicularly lie upon the ground thirty-three yards apart! Mr.
Hotchkiss said that he had picked up and measured one hundred
and twenty-five bushels of good sound apples out of one year's prod-
uct of this tree, and he estimates that it has borne from ten to
twelve thousand bushels from the date of its being planted up to the
present time.
Well, I am astonished! .fen to twelve thousand
bushels of fruit, and to th ili: ihit all of these once
were green apples! Enough, the Deacon re-
marks, to double up half theboys of the United
Kingdom, to say nothing of the Dominion of
Canada and all the colonies. If such apple-trees
grew in my meadows I fear the happy crickets
would sing many a dirge before the close of sum-
mer; not that crickets care for apples, but they
do like boys and girls.
How many silk-worms, do you suppose, are re-
quired to make one pound of silk? According to my
most learned birds, and you may be sure that they
know what they are talking about, it takes almost
three thousand silk-worms. And now, if you wish
to find out how far a pound of silk goes toward
making one of you little girls a nice silk gown for
Sunday, you can have some yards of honest dress-
silk weighed, and so discover the matter for your-
selves at the rate of three thousand cocoons to the
THE wearing of jewels of gold and silver began
with savages, who could think of no more secure
way of keeping their valuables than hanging
them in their ears, noses, lips, cheeks, or around
their necks or arms. After a while they seemed to
forget that security had been the object in thus
disfiguring themselves, and from being pleased
at seeing their treasures so conspicuously and
safely displayed, they actually began to fancy that
the effect not only pleased every one else, but
that they themselves presented a very attractive
Think of a person being attractive with a hole in
the end of the nose and a gold ring hanging there !
Or with the cheek pierced by a large pin I am
told that not only savages, but persons who call
themselves civilized, actually pierce holes in their
own ears and hang gold and jewels through them !
This, however, seems too strange to believe, and
I 'd thank you all to look sharply at the cars of

* Jack-in-the-Pulpit, ST. NICHOLAS, May, 1884.




any civilized person you may meet, and tell your
Jack whether the strange story is true or not.
Of one thing I am sure: the dear Little School-
ma'am, bless her! and Deacon Green are quite
civilized, and they do not hang jewels from their
At all events, very odd things are done by mor-
tals to aid or improve upon nature, and some of
these things, the Little School-ma'am says, are as
horrid as they are odd; while others, she maintains,
are full of a grace and poetry which please the eye
and delight the imagination.
Japanese maidens, who are pretty enough natur-
ally, I am told, daub their faces liberally with red
and white paint, and put a dab of bronze
on the lips. Chinamen sometimes allow
their finger-nails to grow as long as six
inches. Chinese girls glory in deformed
feet. A tribe of South American Indians
bore a hole in the lower lip and force
in there a wooden plug larger than a sil-
ver 'dollar, making the lip look like a
shelf! Can it be true that all over the
world men and women are busy disfig-
uring themselves in the hope of looking
handsome ?

A GOOD friend of ST. NICHOLAS, Mr.
John R. Coryell, wrote to your Jack,
about these same queer notions of people
who, to put it mildly, choose to make
themselves objects of pity, for beauty's
sake, and now he asks me to tell you
some pleasanter facts concerning persons
who wish to ornament themselves, and
yet are not quite ready to bore holes
through their flesh in order to shine in
For instance, he says there are Cuban
women who fasten huge fire-flies in their
hair, and let them shine there like stars
taken from the sky. This is a beautiful
idea, and the fire-fly does not seem to object, for
when released, it flies home as if it had a good
store of adventures to relate to its waiting friends.
There are many other such graceful fancies, he
says, but of them all, none is so fantastically beau-
tiful as that in vogue among the Darnley Islanders,
who,in truth, are the last persons one would sus-
pect of any such thing. They live on an island in
Torres Straits, between New Guinea and Australia,
and are not only ugly looking, but are more than
suspected of being cannibals.
On Darnley Island, it appears, there is a kind
of very large and most beautiful butterfly called
Papilio poseidon. It is marked in brown, black,
and bright-red colors, and measures seven inches
across the wings. This gorgeous creature is cap-
tured by the Islanders bent on decoration; a tough
but delicate vegetable fiber, in lieu of a thread of
cotton, is tied about its large body, and the end
of the fiber secured in the man's hair. A half-
dozen butterflies will be tethered in this way to the
man, and as they soon become reconciled to cap-

tivity, their graceful flutterings about the unhand-
some head of the man produce an effect difficult
to describe and hardly to be imagined.
THESE Darnley Islanders with their living head
ornaments remind me of pet beetles. You all re-
member the picture which your Jack showed you
last winter, in which a lady was decorated with a liv-
ing beetle, tethered to her dress and doing his best
to act the part of a jewel. A little New Yorker,
Grace I. S., now sends a message to you about
similar insects. "Last summer," her letter says,
"my sister had three brown beetles from Cuba

I. 7


given her, looking like those once pictured in
ST. NICHOLAS." After dark she would take them
out of the box, give them a bath, when they would
show bright spots like eyes on the forehead, and
a broad band of fire under the wings, making the
water a lovely greenish yellow. She fed them
with sugar and water, then let them run over the
carpet. They trotted like little slowing trains of
cars showing bright head-lights.
MARIETTA, OHIO, March 31, 1885.
DEAR JACK: The illuminated frog or toad described in a recent

number of ST. NICHOLAS is not new to me.
If any of your readers who live in the region of fire-flies will catch
a toad and put him under a glass and feed him with fire-flies, they
will soon have a luminous frog.
One evening, two or three years ago, I gave a few live fire-flies to
a frog for the benefit o f a cou of mine who never had seen a fire-
fly. It afforded much amusement to us, though I fear it was poor
fun for the fire-flies. But they had a gay time after they were swal-
lowed, if one could judge by the sudden way in which the frog was
lighted up from the inside.
In this way you can have an illuminated frog as long as the ani-
mal's appetite lasts.
Hoping for the continued success of ST NICHOLAS,
I am yours truly, CHAS. HALL.





CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the x5th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently be
examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the magazine with contributions
will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.

WE are indebted to Mr. Samuel W. Pennypacker, of Philadelphia,
for permission to copy two of the illuminations, or "reward-cards,"
in his collection, as illustrations to Dr. Eggleston's article in this
number on "A School of Long Ago." Mr. Pennypacker has also
kindly furnished the following translation in verse of the curious
inscription which appears in the engraving on page 644:
Who is humble when successful,
Who is patient when distressful,
Fears not fortune's fickle changes--
Him no ill fate e'er deranges.
He unharmed can have fate grieve him,
See luck come and see it leave him,
Ever ready he for all things,
For the great and for the small things.
When misfortunes crowd about him,
When they overwhelming cloud him,
Patience is his sole reliance-
He may bid them all defiance.
When good fortune smiles and blesses,
Wooes him with her soft caresses,
Then Humility can save him
From the pride that would enslave him.
If his work is not assuring-
What he does has no enduring--
Patience will help him to bear it,
Soothe his trouble and will share it.
If he meets with prosperous breezes
And has all things as he pleases,
No Humility can hurt him-
For his fortune may desert him.

If he meet with sore affliction,
Having no man's benediction,
Needing much commiseration,
Patience is his consolation.

If he far aloft is lifted,
If his burdens all are shifted,
This may only be to try him -
Let Humility sit by him.
Humbleness can all things cower;.
Patience has the greatest power;
Patience saves from every sorrow;
Pride humility should borrow.
Patience is for time of mourning;
Humbleness when fate is scorning;
Sweet Humility assures us;
Patience from our ills secures us.
Both these virtues then I cherish,-
Without either would I perish;
Much of comfort have they for me,
Rest and quiet they restore me.

Our readers will be interested in the letters written by George
Washington and Richard Henry Lee, while boys, which are to be
found on page 685 of this number. They originally appeared in a
volume entitled Mt. Vernon, the Home of Washington," by
Benson J. Losing, published in this country by Messrs. John C.
Yorston & Co., of Cincinnati, and in England by Messrs. Ward,
Locke & Co., London. Our thanks are due to those publishers for
permission to reprint the letters in ST. NICHOLA


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: A very dear aunt of ours in America
kindly sends us your interesting magazine every month, for we live
in Italy, where there are no English magazines published, so far as we
I have a little brother and sister here, and a sister and a brother in
heaven. Our parents are Americans, but we were all born in
Florence and have never seen America. We hope, however, to go
there before long, as we have a grandfather, grandmother, aunts,
uncles, and cousins, whom we long to see.
We liee in a very pleasant partof the city and have beautiful
views in every direction.' We are right in front of a large square
with a pretty fountain in the center, and I can see from our win-
dows the great cathedral, or Duomo," so much admired, the Palazzo
Vecchio, the Campanile, and a large part of the Viale dei Colli, which
is considered one of the most beautiful drives in Europe. From the
back of our housewe can see Fiesole, which is called the Mother of
Florence," and many little villages. We have plants, flowers, gold-
fishes, birds, two doves, and a little one, two and a half days old,
besides a little kitten that we took to catch mice.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Perhaps you would like to hear how
highly favored the children of this town (Easton) are. A rich man
residing here has had the ST. NICHOLAS sent free into every family
from which a child attends any of our public schools. The rich and
poor are all used alike; and when the mail arrives which brings this
bright and pretty book, you will see the children in crowds waiting
anxiously around the post-office to receive the magazine so kindly

given them.' Or in the evening, if you should go into any house in
town, you would. find the little ones gathered around the table look-
ing at the pretty pictures or reading the stories it contains. I do not
believe there is another town in the country so blessed in this way.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl, eight years old, and
I have a dear, good grandma, three sisters, and two little brothers.
My oldest sister has a pony and a dog. We have two peacocks.
They. have no name, but my little brother calls them Jenny and
Rose. Our house is called Sunnyside. My little sister has two
dolls. Their names are Bell and Dinah. One morning our man
killed a big hedgehog, which was covered with quills two or three
inches long. We have a farm-house, and an apple-orchard, to which
we like to row over and get the apples. I hope you will print this
for me, as it is the first letter I have written to you, and I like the
ST. NICHOLAS very much. Your little reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl eleven years'old. My
sister and I collect worms, moths, and butterflies: it is great fun, I
think. We find the worms and put them under wire cases on straw-
berry boxes, which we fill with earth and leaves, while with others
we only put leaves. We have a net each, and one or two extra, so
if any friends make us a visit and want to. hunt butterflies with
us they can. We go to Wickford in the summer; there are a great
many butterflies at Wickford, and so we get a good many. We
have collected more than a year and enjoy it very much. The

s885.] THE LETTER-BOX. 715

moths we catch at night, as there is but one that flies in the
day, and that is the humming-bird moth. I like the ifmperialis
best of all the moths. By what I saw of it in a picture, I think that
you can tell moths from butterflies, because their antenna are so
much larger, and besides, the butterflies' antenna are clubbed. I
think that they are much handsomer than the moths, at least most of
them. The worms make cocoons in the autumn, and you have to
keep them all through the winter, as they don't come out till spring;
you have to water them once or twice, so that they think it
is rainmg. I found a cocoon this winter; it was a cecroaia. There
are a good many of the polypfemus and saternie in Wickford, but
saternia are poisonous; they are covered with fuzzy stuff, and if
you touch it it makes your hand sting like everything. I was stung
by one once, and I hope I never will be again. There is a southern
butterfly in Wickford, only one or two. We only saw two of them,
but we could not catch either of them. My papa saw a perfect one
and I saw an imperfect one, but, of course, it was Sunday when
papa saw the perfect one and a week day when I saw the imperfect
one; but we caught a good many other kinds, as I said before. The
sulphur and the white ones (I don't know the name of them)'are the
commonest; the archippus, Camberwell beauty, black swallow-tail,
yellow swallow-tail, and the tortoise-shell are quite common, but
they all have their time. The silver-moon is a very odd kind, it
has a little silver crescent on the back of each wing. I found two
worms in the early summer, and they came in the silver-moon time.
My brother, myself, and a few others went on an expedition after
butterflies, when my brother happened to go into some bushes when
out came two prometheus moths: they had taken refuge in the
bushes for the day; we caught them both, but one was imperfect, so
we let him go. The luna is a very uncommon moth, and is one of
the largest and prettiest, it is of a light-green color, and has a white
body, the wings ending in tails. The most scarce of all northern
mothsis the "hickory devil," and if you should happen to find one it
is most likely to die, it is so sensitive, but some of them live, though
it is very hard to take care of them; they are the terror of the negroes
at the South, though they are harmless. I was very glad to see
letters about worms and moths, because it shows that some one
else is enjoying finding them. HELEN.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you since last Jan-
uary,'1884 My dear Mamma gave you to me as a birthday present.
I enjoy-you very much. I watch for you every month. I am nine
years old, and my birthday comes on the 26th of January. I have
a little sister named Grace, and a brother named Allan. I often read
you to them, and they like you very much. Allan is eight and
Grace is six. I read the letters and like them too, I am in Europe
and am having a very nice time. I stay in Geneva. And I lived in
a little country place named Summit, New Jersey. And I came
over here with Papa and my little brother, and came to see my
cousin Marie, and I am with my dear Grandmamma, and left my
little sister with my other Grandmamma. Grandmamma reads you
to me very often, and I like the funny little pieces of poetry she
reads to me. Yours truly, LULA T.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I visited Mt. Vernon recently, and I
am now going to tell you about the principal things I saw there.
Before entering the mansion of Mt. Vernon, we paused to take a
view of Washington's tomb. All members of Washington's family
are buried in lots fenced off around the tomb. Washington and his
wife are buried inside the tomb, behind a heavy iron door. But out-
side of this door, iq.another division of this tomb, behind the grated
iron door at the entrance, are two marble.coffins. One of them has
the name of George Washington and the coat-of-arms of the United
States upon it. The other has the name of his wife upon it. This
is all of the new tomb, except that the key has been thrown into
the Potomac. The old tomb is just a common brick structure. We
then had our photographs taken on the piazza of the mansion. The
piazza is paved with stones taken from the Isle of Wight. We then
entered the mansion. The first room we came to was the state
dining-hall. In this hall there is a picture of Washington, on white
horse, surrounded by his officers. It represents a scene before York-
town. Washington is in the act of reproving the chief engineer for
some misdoing. Then there is a finely carved mantel, made of mar-
ble, and sent as a present to Washington from abroad, and upon it
is a sea-fan placed there by Washington himself. And upon a table
in this room is a miniature cut of the Bastile in a glass case. And
in different rooms are the harpsichord presented to Eleanor Custis by
Washington as a wedding present; the flute on which Washing-
ton once played; the field-glass belonging to Washington still
hanging where he hung it himself; the chair which came over in the
" Mayflower," and which I had the pleasure of taking a seat in; the
bed in which Lafayette once slept; the bed in which the Fatherof his
Country died; also that in Which Martha Washington died. A
British field-ensign, which is said to have been captured by Wash-

ington on the field of battle, is also in one of the rooms. Now, I
would like you to publish this, for it may interest some of the young
readers of ST. NICHOLAS very much.
Yours truly, A. L. F.

In the number for July, x880, ST. NICHOLAS published an article
entitled "Two Gunpowder Stories," one of which told how Eliza-
beth Zane, a brave girl, at one of the border forts during the Revo-
lution, faced death from the rifles and arrows of the besieging
Indians, in her endeavor to secure fresh powder for the men who
were defending the fort, when she knew that every man was needed.
A friend and contributor, Mr. John S. Adams, now sends to the
LETTER-BOX these verses commemorating the heroic deed of the girl
who risked her life to save the garrison.

THIS dauntless pioneer maiden's name
Is inscribed in gold on the scroll of Fame;
She was the lassie who knew no fear
When the tomahawk gleamed on the far frontier.
If deeds of daring should win renown,
Let us honor this damsel of Wheeling town,
Who braved the savage with deep disdain,-
Bright-eyed, buxom, Elizabeth Zane.

'T was more than a hundred years ago,
They were close beset by the dusky foe;
They had spent of powder their scanty store,
And who the gauntlet should run for more ?
She sprang to the portal and shouted, I;
'T is better a girl than a man should die!
My loss would be but the garrison's gain.
Unbar the gate!" said Elizabeth Zane.
The powder was sixty yards away,
Around her the foemen in ambush lay;
SAs she darted from shelter they gazed with awe,
Then wildly shouted, "A.squaw! "a squaw!"
She neither swerved to the left or right,
Swift as an antelope's was -her flight.
"Quick! Open the door!" she cried, amain,
"For a hope forlorn 'T is Elizabeth Zane! "
No time had she to waver or wait,
Back she must go ere it be too late;
She snatched from the table its cloth in haste
And knotted it deftly about her waist,
Then filled it with powder-never, I ween,
Had powder so lovely a magazine;
Then, scorning the bullets, a deadly rain,
Like a startled fawn, fled Elizabeth Zane.
She gained the fort with her precious freight;
Strong hands fastened the oaken gate;
Brave men's eyes were suffused with tears
That had there been strangers for many years.
From flint-lock rifles again there sped
'Gainst the skulking redskins a storm of lead,
And the war-whoop sounded that day in vain,
Thanks to the deed of Elizabeth Zane.

Talk not to me of Paul Revere,
A man, on horseback, with naught to fear;
Nor of old John Burns,.with his bell-crowned hat-
He'd an. army to back him, so what of that?
Here's to the heroine, pltmp and brown,
Who ran the gauntlet in Wheeling town!
Hers is a record without a stain,-
Beautiful, buxom, Elizabeth Zane.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have taken you five years, and I think very
much of you. I am always happy if I can sit down with a copy of
ST. NICHOLAS and read your interesting stories. I always turn the
pages to the Letter-Box as soon as I get you. I like to read the
letters of those who value ST. NICHOLAS as I do.
Your loving reader, BERTHA H.
P. S. Would you please tell me how long the ST. NICHOLAS has
been published ? B. H.
Since November, 1873.

Will the-young friends whose names here follow please accept
our thanks for their very pleasant letters, and our regrets that we
have not room to publish them all: Julia Carr, Cora A. Knight,


Israel N. Breslauer, Lily Agnes Stevens Brown, Louis S Darling, Amy Whedon, M. L. W., N. H., Willie D. Rhea, Pansy T. Kirk-
Lilian B., Blanche Lawrence, John Stebbins E. M T., Hubert E. wood, May, Bertha V. Stevens, Elizabeth Lovitt, "Two School-
V. C. F. Grim, Eddie Collins, S. A. W., Jennie J. Duxbury, Gold girls," Kittie Clover, William Wirt Leggett, Ellie Kendall, M. L. C.,
H. Wheeler, Madge Galloway, "A Faithful Reader," Dick F. F., Edith and Alice Hookey, Mary P. Sheppard, Marion Gertrude
Hortie O. M.. E. B. B., Marie Louise Cooper, F. B. G., Bessie B., Smith, Loretta, Violet, Lily, arid Pansy, Flossie, Nellie and Reggie.
Marian Louise W., Charlotte Morton, Jessie Ryan, Anna Lister, Mildred Coxe.


WE are advised that under various pretexts our
Chapters have been solicited to patronize various
new papers or magazines, which are stated to be
published "in the interests of" the A. A., and our
Secretaries are kindly requested to send in their
reports" and "contributions," and otherwise to
"aid in making this a helpful medium of inter-
communication," etc.
It would seem unnecessary to state that all of these
publications, without exception, are issued without
any authority or sanction from the Editors or Pub-
lishers of ST. NICHOLAS, or from the President or
projectors of the Agassiz Association. We should
not refer to this had we not observed that a few of
our Chapters already have been led to send re-
ports, etc., to these periodicals, evidently suppos-
ing that they were in some way regularly con-
nected with our Society.
We may repeat, once for all, as is distinctly
affirmed in our Constitution, that ST. NICHOLAS
is the official organ of communication between
members and Chapters of the Association.

FOR the fifty-first time, the President of the A. A. has the pleasure
of extending to each Chapter the right hand of fellowship, and to
each member a hearty greeting. By an error in a recent report
April 28 was mentioned as Agassiz's birthday, instead of the well-
known 28th of May. If any of our newer Chapters, misled by this,
were beguiled into the rural districts a month too soon, we shall feel
guilty of Pneumonia in the third degree !


A LETTER asking for aid in the study of lichens fell into our box
one day, closely followed by the following appropriate neighbor:

MY DEAR SIR: I should like to offer assist-
ance to beginners in the study of lichens. I will cheerfully name
specimens as far as I am able, and advise as to methods of study.
I shall also be glad to make exchanges. Yours truly,
FRED'K LEROY SARGENT, President, Chapter No. 686.
Address 415 Broadway, Cambridge, Mass.
PROF. A. W. PUTMAN-CRAMER, the President of the Brooklyn,
N.Y., Entomological Society, in addition to the kind invitation
printed in our latest report, has volunteered to conduct a class
through a somewhat extended course of original observation and
field-work in entomology. It is proposed that the course consist of
20 lessons, and be freely open to every one, whether a member of
the A A. or not. To indicate somewhat the nature and scope of
these lessons, we print the-first lessons here. It will evidently be
impracticable to print the course in ST. NICHOLAs, and we have de-
cided to issue the lessons in the form of leaflets, which will be for-
warded to students as rapidly as required. To hell meet the expense
of printing and mailing the twenty lessons, a nominal fee of one dol-
lar for the course will be charged.
All who desire to avail themselves of this opportunity may send
their namesat once to Mr. John B. Smith, Editor of Entomologica
Americana, 290 Third Av., Brooklyn, N. Y. If fifty names be re-
ceived before Aug. i, the course will be carried on. Every student
who shall satisfactorily conclude the twenty lessons will receive a
handsome certificate, signed by the Instructor, and countersigned by
the President of the A. A.
Select any large butterfly Danais Archippus, for example. ist.
Make as neat and accurate a pencil-drawing of it as you can. No
matter if you have never drawn a line before. Do your best. If you
have a box of paints, you may color your sketch, but this is not
and. With pen and ink on note-paper, write a careful description
of the insect, noting the following points in order:
a. Measurements from tip of antenna to tip of abdomen, and from
tip to tip of extended wings.
b. The principal, or ground, color, whether brown, yellow, black,
c. Describe any lines or spots you may observe, and state as
nearly as you can on what portion of the wings or body they are
found. Do this for the underas well as for the upper side.



d. Break the wings from one side, lay them flat on a piece of
glass, and with small camel's-hair brush, clean and dry, gently rub
the color from them. Examine this colored dust carefully with a
magnifying glass or microscope, and drawportions of it as it appears
thus enlarged. To what can you compare the little particles ? How
are they arranged on the wing? Are they all of the same size and
e. Carefully remove all the color from the wings, and examine
the frame-work that remains. What color is it? What does it look
like? Do you notice any device for imparting strength or rigidity
to the wing? Describe it. Make a careful drawing of a wing after
the color is removed; do not draw the veins or ribs at random, but
count them, and follow their true direction, for their number and
course aid in determining the name of the butterfly.
f Break off the feelers or antennae from the head. Look at them
through your glass. Draw and describe them, making particular
note of the shape of the club at the tip.
What device do you observe, by which the antenna are enabled
to bend freely in every direction, and yet be rendered rigid at the
will of the insect?
g. Describe the head. State whether it is hairy or not; whether
it is broad or narrow, long or short. Observe whether the eyes
bulge out distinctly like a bead, or whether they are nearly flat.
State also whether the antenna, at their junction with the head, are
far apart, or almost in contact with each other. This is also a point
toward the naming of the insect. You should find attached to the
head in front, two other appendages, called palpi, or lip-feelers.
Describe them; and state whether they grow below, above, or
between the antennam. At the lower side of the head you should
see a small coil, like a watch-spring. This is the tongue. It is not
easily examined in a dry insect, but you may note its color, and
anything else you may observe.
A. Look, now, at the thorax, as the division of the body behind
the head is called. What parts do you find attached to the thorax?
How many legs on each side ? How many wings ? Break off the
legs from one side, and carefully draw and describe them. Be
especially careful with the one nearest the head. Is it longer
or shorter than the others? More or less hairy? Has it the
same number of joints? The joint nearest the body is the femur;
the next is the tibia. The last is the foot, or tarsus. The plural
of tibia is tibia,, and of tarsus, tarsi. How many joints has the foot?
Examine closely whether every leg has a foot Which foot, if any,
has fewer joints than the others? How many has it? If the legs
are so thickly clothed with hairs that you can not see these parts,
lay them on a piece of glass, and place a drop of carbolic acid on
each. After half an hour, soak up the acid with blotting paper.
You can then easily remove all the hairs with a stiff brush, and can
see the joints perfectly.
i. Finally, look your butterfly over again, state anything you
know of its habits; where and how and when you got it, and any
other facts regarding it that occur to you.
Then carefully wrap up your drawings and descriptions, and mail
them to the Brooklyn Entomological Society, to Mr. John B. Smith.
29o Third Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y.
ONE of our largest and strongest Chapters is No. 395, Montreal,
Canada. It has more than fifty members, and has made its influ-
ence felt in the city for several years.
Heretofore, our Association has not spread in the "Dominion"
with anything like the rapidity of its extension in the United States.
It has occurred to the Montreal Chapter that an impulse may be
given to the work from that city.
We have, therefore, authorized Mr. W. D. Shaw, Secretary of
Chapter 395, to act as our Canadian Secretary. Mr. Shaw will
devote himself to the task of extending a knowledge of the A. A. in
Canada, and he will receive and classify our Canadian correspond-
ence, and regularly transmit the same to the President.
Hereafter, therefore, until further notice, all residents of Canada
who desire information regarding our Association may address Mr.
Shaw, at 34 St. Peter Street, Montreal.
Sfearfish, Dakota. I have never seen anything about rattlesnakes
in ST. NICHOLAS but once, but to me they are very curious. I don't
mind if they are dangerous. I killed nine rattlesnakes last sum-

mer. One of these had fifteen rattles. I killed them coiled, so as to
study their exact position. Then I boiled their heads, to examine
the structure. My pet rabbit was bitten by one, and I watched the
effect of the poison. I am getting a whole skeleton of a man,-I
think he was an Indian, for I found it in an Indian burying-ground,-
in a bag. My little sister called it my "bag of bones," and would
not go near it No one knows how hard I have worked to put
this skeleton together, gluing bones together, etc., but I have
learned a great deal about human anatomy. With many good
wishes for the A. A.-Jeannie Cowgill, Corresponding Member.
[Is there another girl in the world who has killed nine rattle-
snakes andjointeda skeleton ?]
682, Philadelphia (W.).--We have lectures on zoblogy at each
meeting. A course on physiology was commenced last week.-
James E. Brooks, Sec.
[For obvious reasons, we withhold the name of the writer of the
following letter, which is a sample of many that cause our hearts
to overflow with gratitude. One such letter is ample compensation
for all the time and labor given to our work. The writer is one of
the gentlemen who have volunteered their kind assistance.]
I have received many letters from Chapters relative to their work,
all showing the Chapters to be in sober earnest In all the history
of the Chapter in this place, there has never been a brighter outlook
than now. At the last meeting there was an attendance of eighteen,
with very many visitors. Two or three members are added each
week. One thing which has served in great measure to further the
cause has been the regular publication of extended reports of these
meetings in our local papers. I am informed by the editor of one
of these papers, that these reports are copied by the journals all
through the State, and that the formation of similar Chapters in every
town is strongly urged. Among those who have joined the Chapter
here, are many young men who were just at the age when they
began to have the sole charge of their own characters, and who have
been benefited beyond measure by the Agassiz Association, and its
influences. I could now enumerate twenty-five who have been
saved to good and useful manhood through nothing but the ennob-
ling effect of having this love of Nature grafted upon them. If this
has been the result in this one town in five years, what must it be
in the country in entirety? And what will it be in the future?
Pardon the length of this letter. I have been so in earnest as to
forget myself. Yours in all sincerity, -
Minerals, eggs, insects. Correspondence.-Louis W. Wheelock.
2017 N. 17th St., Philadelphia. (Curator, Ch. 556.)
Texas wild flowers and beautiful varieties of cactus, for eggs, min-
erals, insects, or back numbers of ST. NicHOLAs.-Chesly Alex-
ander, Abilene, Texas.
Aragonite, selenite, and other good minerals. Correspondence.-
E. E. Amory, 3525 Grand Boulevard, Chicago.
Mica schist and gneiss, for fossils.-J. McFarland, Ch. 58, 23x4
Franklin St., Philadelphia.
Foreign and Canadian insects, birds, reptiles, and minerals.
Correspondence.-W. D. Shaw, 34 St. Peter St, Montreal.
A complete collection of unmounted pressed ferns from Pough-
keepSe, N. Y., for a complete collection of same from Hartford,
Conn.,' or Gainesville, Florida. Write first.-G. Van Duzen, 81
Carroll St., Poughkeepsie, N. Y.'
Lizards (salamander, erythronota, and bilineata). G. A. Grove,
Fayetteville, N. Y.
Sea-urchins with or without spines, and from one-half inch to
three inches in diameter, for eggs, or minerals. Chapter 256, Box 8,
Newton Upper Falls, Mass.
Burrs of the long-leaved pine, for minerals and seaside curiosities.-
R. S. Cross, Sec., Ch. 60o, Purvis, Miss.
Starfish, horseshoe crabs, and Atlantic shells, for tin ore, asbestos,
or agates.- Parker C. Newbegin, Defiance, Ohio.
Eggs.- S. Linton, 1243 Dorchester St., Montreal.
Bird-skins, for same. Minerals for minerals.- Miss S. H. Mont-
gomery, Box 764, Wakefield, Mass.

Is there any such thing as a hoop-snake ? A school-mate says
SNo,' and brings a clipping from Forest and Stream to prove it;
while a teacher of the High School names persons that have seen
[We willgladlypublish the direct testimony of any one that has
seen a hoop-snake with his own eyes.]
How does the common fresh-water snail support itself on the sur-
lace of the water with the ventral surface uppermost, and how does
it propel itself when in that position ? G. Van Duzen.
If our atmosphere were removed, would another form ?
What may be called impurities of the atmosphere?
Why do dark objects sink into snow more rapidly than light ones ?




Why does whirling or the sight of whirling objects produce
Of what use to the fish are the stones found over the eyes of the
"sheep's head" ?

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
827 Bridgeport, Conn. (A) .. 7..G P. Bullock, 87 Courtland St.
828 Cincinnati, O. (D) ........ 25. Miss Edith Wilson,
Oak St., Mt. Auburn.
829 Shelburne Falls, Mass.(A) ..9..Merrill Carley.
830 Titusville, Pa. (B).......... 5..Edith W. Cadwallader.
831 Delaware, O. (A) ..... ... o..W. H. Maltbie, Box 78o.
832 Buffalo, N. Y. (K).........8..May L. Perry, 49 Mariner St.
833 Clifton, N. Y. (A) ............4.Mrs. M. M. Johnston,
Box 539.
834 Westfield, Mass. (A) .....a.. Miss AnnieBourne.
835 Akron, 0. (B)..............6..Miss Belle Green,
213 N. Union St.
836 San Francisco, Cal. (H) ....4. Moms Thompson,
2309 Octavia St.
837 New York, N. Y. (V)...... 4.G. S. Connell, 134 E. i9th St.
838 New York, N. Y. (W)......4..J. N. Bulkley, 351 W. 82d St.
839 Bolton, England. (A)...... 6..R. Ainsworth, 49 Chorley R'd.
840 Alamo, Texas (A)......... o..Miss Bertha Harris.
841 Fairview, N. J. (A) .....1.. Mrs. C. W. Asbury.

842 Clifton, O. (A).............5..Arthur Espy.
843 W.Worthington, Mass. (A) x2..O. B. Parish.
844 Columbia, S. C. (A).. .....6..J. M. McBride.
845 Onondaga Valley, N. Y. (A) 6..Mrs. J. W. Wilkie.
846 Greenwich, Conn. (A)..... 20..D. L. Bardwell.
847 Washington, Ind. (A)..... o..Ben Clawson.
848 Harrisonville, Missouri (A). .4. .Miss Bessie Lawder.
849 Boston, Mass. (H) ........ 2. Miss Sam E. Saunders,
17 State St.
850 Bangor, Maine. (A) ....... xn..Miss Allie L. Yeaton,
15 Prospect St.
851 Cambria Station, Pa. (B) ..13. Miss Fanny M. Stiteler.
852 Willis, Montana. (A).......6.. Mrs. F. A. Reynolds, (Beaver-
head Co.)
793 Ashland, Ohio.
791 St. Louis, Mo. (J).
291 Providence, R. I. (B).........A. A. Packard, r15 Angell St.
The address of Ch. 762 is now W. H. Hugg, P. O. Box 3, Balti-
more, Md.
Address all communications for this department to the President
of the A. A.


THE answer to this rebus is an extract from an oration. The
seven letters, inclosed in seven similar circles, will spell the name of
the orator. The letters of the monogram in the lower left-hand cor-
ner will spell his birth-place, and the right-hand monogram will spell
the place where he died.
i. To save. 2. An instrument for paring. 3. The central part
of an amphitheater. 4. Splits. 5. To obliterate. "LYON HART."

I AM composed of fifty-nine letters, and am the patriotic utterance
of a great statesman, and his surname.
My 55-6-35-57-6-33 is a city famous in American history. My
57-28-43-57-48-3-40-23 is a business which was seriously interfered

with at the beginning of the Revolution. My 27-1r-14-56-366--26o-
39 is an American statesman and jurist who was born in Virginia in
1755. My 4-9-52-2x-58-38 2-47-5-4-57-13-29 is the Christian and
surname of our author. My 17-46-42-7-1-31-24-10 is his nation-
ality. My 51-40-37-12-4 is the surname of a statesman upon whom
our author pronounced a famous eulogy. My 16-45-5-19-44-54-57
is an official body of which our author was the leading member dur-
ing 36-32-59-7-41-35-6-25's administration. My 53-34-56-50-6-8
4-30-18 became a State during Polk's administration. My22-x5-49,
when read as Roman numerals, will hint at the age at which our
author died. "MISS GUSSY."

. 2

.. 3 .. ...

4 . 5
ACROSS: i. Given to luxury. 2. Complete views. 3. Sentenced.
4. One who is proposed for an office. 5. Placed. 6. Minute por-
tions of matter. 7. Offers. 8. Untainted. 9. An opening through
which cannon are discharged.
DIAGONALS. From I to 3, regions; from 2 to 3, particles of
stony matter; from 3 to 5, to getaway from; from 3 to 4, a hard sub-
stance; from I to 5, a familiar sort of picture; from 2 to 4, a kind
of rock. CYRIL DEANE.
1. In July, a. A margin. 3. Gowns of state. 4. Inde-
pendence. 5. Gay. 6. An inclosure. 7. In July.
II. T. In firearms. 2. To proclaim. 3. A basket used by
anglers. 4 Independence. 5. A city of Japan. 6. A game at
cards. 7. In firearms. DYCIE."
MY primals form a famous and familiar saying (in Latin) of Cmsar's.
My finals form the modern name of the country to which Caesar's
saying referred.
Cross-words (of unequal length) : i. A city which surrendered to
General Grant on July 4, 1863. 2. A republic of South America.
3. The most celebrated river of the ancient world. 4. An island in
the Mediterranean that was visited, not long since, by a terrible
earthquake. 5. One of the. New England States. 6. A river of
Afghanistan. 7. The capital of the State of Delaware. 8. One of
the loftiest mountains of the Bolivian Andes. 9. A river of Holland
which flows into the Zuyder Zee. 0i. One of the north-central of
the United States. Ir. The capital of Sardinia. r2. A famous city,
formerly the metropolis of Persia. IMMO."





MY first is in Ohio; my second, in Pennsylvania; my third, in
Indiana; my fourth, in Vermont; my fifth, in New Hampshire; my
sixth, in Kentucky; my seventh, in Maine; my eighth, in Florida;
my ninth, in Nebraska; my tenth, in California; my eleventh, in
Michigan; my twelfth, in New York. My whole is what our fore-
fathers fought for. F. A. w.

EACH of the seven letters in the above rebus has an addition,
which, when read in connection with the letter, makes a word.
When properly arranged, these seven words will form a maxim of
Poor Richard's.
i. BEHEAD and curtail egg-shaped, and leave a tank. 2. Behead
and.curtail to venerate, and leave always. 3. Behead and curtail a
Mohammedan nymph, and leave a possessive pronoun. 4. Behead

and curtail a surly look, and leave an uproar. 5. Behead and cur-
tail high in situation, and leave to arrange. 6. Behead and curtail a
French coin, and leave hastened. 7. Behead and curtail a straggler,
and leave an ancient engine of war. 8. Behead and curtail a girl's
name, and leave a useful article. 9. Behead and curtail a speech, and
leave proportion. to. Behead and curtail a Scotch landholder, and
leave a tune. is. Behead and curtail to long, and leave a part of the
head. 12. Behead and curtail custom, and leave to bend for want of
The beheaded letters, when transposed, will spell a national holi-
day; and the curtailed letters, when transposed, will spell what it
celebrates. PAUL REESE.

5 -
CRoss-woRos: x. A sheltered place; reversed, along, snake-like
fish. 2. Moisture; reversed, to marry. 3. The juice of plants;
reversed, a step. 4. A snare; reversed, a number. 5. To scour;
reversed, the prickly envelope of a seed.
Diagonals, from i to 5, a person afflicted with a certain incurable
disease; from 5 to r, to drive back. "ALCIBIADES."

EACH of the words described contains the same number of letters;
and the beheaded letters, when read in the order here given, will
spell the name of a very prominent person.
i. Behead one, and leave the egg of an insect. 2. Behead a fine
fabric, and leave a single point, 3. Behead a measure of time, and
leave something which contains a drum. 4. Behead active, and
leave to meddle. 5. Behead to dispatch, and leave to terminate.
6. Behead to discover, and leave an emissary. 7. Behead to barter,
and leave a measure. 8. Behead a sheet of canvas, and leave to be
ill. 9. Behead harness, and leave part of the head. io. Behead to
rave, and leave a small insect. it. Behead to assist, and leave a
wager. 12. Behead exact, and leave a summer luxury. 13. Behead
recited, and leave ancient. "THE CARTERS."

PUZZLER'S CROSS. Upper Diamond: I. P. 2. Cam. 3. Josos. NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
4. Console. 5. Passerine. 6. Mooring. 7, Sling. 8. Eng. 9. E. Thus came the lovely spring with a rush of blossoms and
Right-hand Diamond: r. R. 2. Res. 3. Sects. 4. Retreat. 5. music;
Recreates. 6. Steamed. 7. Sates. 8. Ted. 9. S. Lower Dia- Flooding the earth with flowers, and the air with melodies
mond: I. R. 2. Bud. 3. Prier. 4. Brannew. 5. Ruination. vernal. Elizabeth. Part III
6. Dentine. 7. Reins. 8. Woe. 9. N. Left-hand Diamond: DOUBLE CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Herring, Halibut.
i. N. 2. Mew. 3. Dices. 4. Mistake. 5. Nectarine. 6. Wear- EASY DOUBLE ACROSTIC Primals, Arm; finals, Ada. Cross-
ing. 7. Skins. 8. Eng. 9. E. Central Square: x. Sleet. 2. words: i. Agatha. 2. Roland. 3. Martha.
Leave. 3. Eager. 4. Evens. 5. Terse. CUBE. From i to 2, marble; 2 to 6, eagles; 5 to 6, dreads; I to
HEXAGONS ACROSS..I. I. W. 2. Sop. 3. Stray. 4. Porte. 5, missed; 3 to 4, nestle; 4 to 8, Edward; 7 to 8, wanted; 3 to 7,
5. Aries. 6. Ken. 7. D. II. R. 2. Cam. 3. Laved. 4. nephew; r to 3, men; 2 to 4, eye; 6 to 8, sad; 5 to 7, dew.
Edile. 5. Tenon. 6. Ten. 7. S. CONCEALED WORD-SQUARE. i. Ashes. 2. Spade. 3. Haven.
HALF-SQUARE. .Tunes. 2. Utah. 3. Nap. 4. Eh. 5. S. 4. Edens. 5. Sense.
AN HOUR-GLASS PUZZLE Centrals, Vacations. Cross-words: Pi. Joy and Temperance and Repose
r. Baseviols. 2. Heralds.- 3 Maces. 4. Man. 5. T. 6. Lid. Slam the door on the Doctor's nose.
7. Smoke. 8. Oranges. 9. Footsteps. LONGFELLOW.
THE names of those who send solutions are printed in the second number after that in which the puzzles appear. Answers should be
addressed to ST. NICHOLAS "Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth street, New York City.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, too late for acknowledgment in the June number, from William H. Dono-
hoe, --E. M. and L:Peart and J. Spiller, England, 5.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before MAY 20 from Paul Reese- "The Carters "-S. R.
T.-Arthur Gride-- Maggie and May Turrill-- F. W. N. and Co. Tiny Puss, Mitz, and Muff- Bessie V. M. M. M. Carey
E. Melville-"Clifford and Coco"-Willie Serrell and Friends-Jennie R. Miller-Alice and Lizzie Pendleton-Fred, Ellist, and A.
B. S.-John True Sumner-Helen J. Sproat-Aunt Henrietta, and Lillie, Olive, and Ida Gibson-San Anselmo Valley-Francis W.
Islip -" CEdipus."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received; before April 2o, from Alice H. Robinson, 3- Florence E., I-John
K. Ricketts, --H. I. S., to-Jean B. G., i-Susie Hubbell, 3-Sallie Viles, it-Amelia N. F. and Annie L. D., 3-Louise G.
Ilsley, --Y. E., 3-Mary L. Richardson, p- Lizzie Wainman, 3 -Annie W. North, I-Merion S. Dumont, i-John and Lawton
Kendrick, 6 -" Can. Dan," 8 Lady Ann, '8 Sutheby Wilby, 4- "Delta." 2 -G. Timpson, 3- Mamy Neuburger, i- Violet
and Daisy, 9- Frank Smyth, 8-Henry P. Cofran, x-Daisy H. K., 3-Cora M. Ledger, Maud E. Benson, 2- Mamma and I, i
-R. O. Haubold, Daisy Burns, 4- W. B. Read, Helena Chalmers, Woodbury G. Frost, 5 Kenneth B. Emerson, 8-
"Poggledy," 8 "The Trio," 3- Effie K Talboys, ir- Bessie Perault, 7 -Warren D. Brown, Willis S. Covell, 2 Locust Dale
Folks," Bessie and Helen, 3- "Pepper and Maria," x--Laura Gordon and Wm. A. Bokers, 9- Grace Perley and Floyd Ford, 7
-Arthur E. Hyde, 5 Goose," i L. and S., 6 "Papa's Pet," 2 Sylvia, 3 H. B. Saunders 4 Lottie L. Smith, i M.D.D.,
2- Chimpanzee and Marmoset," 8 J. D. Haney, 2 Helena E. Haubold, i Chester and Amey Aldrich, xr Clara Gallup, i -
Isabel Warwick, 5-Clara M. Upton, 7-Stella Sweet, 9-E. Sedgwick, 2 -Edith M. Boyd, i -"Pupil of Johnny Duck," --Abbey
A. Howe, 3- Charles H. Kyte, a -K. Grigs, 3- Anna Calkins, 5 Helen Tufts, 5- Bessie Adam, I -Percy A. Varian, 8- Bessie
Burch, io- Florence Clark, 3- J. A. Halsted, 3- Willie B. La Bar, 8 Daisy, Helen, and Louise, i Nellie B. Ripley, 8 Cora L.
Kenyon, 2 Genie and Meg, 8 -" Sinbad the Sailor," 7 -- Fred and Gill," 12 -Nellie and Reggie, 8 Fanny and Di, 7- M. Margaret
and E. Muriel Grundy, o1-" Puz," 2- Ada M., 9- Maud S., ix -R. H., Papa and Mamma, 12 Georgia L. Gilmore, ix George
Habenicht, Ida C. L., i Olive R. T. Wipt," ir-J. J. Nicholson, Jr., 6- M. B. F., 12- Hallie Couch, 9 --P. K. Boo," i -
E. C. C. M. and M., 9-Ella Ware, 7- Herbert Gaytes, 8- Sadie and Bessie Rhodes, 12-Fanny R. Jackson, 12-Arthur L. Mudge,
3-Lily and Lou, io-C. F. Mel, 4- "Shumway Hen and Chickens," to- Mertice and Ina, xi-B. B. Y., 2 -"Pemie," x Edith
L. Young and Jennie L. Dupuis, ii-Mary P. Stockett, io-Jennie Balch, to-C. Wolfe, I-M. C. Washburn, I-E. M. and L.
Peart, and Edith Mason, 9-J. B. Sheffield, 4- Goldwin G. Goldsmith, 9.








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