Front Cover
 Some famous Florentine babies
 Grandfather's valentine
 Fish-spearing through the ice
 Voices of prophecy
 Little Lord Fauntleroy
 The girl who lost her pocket
 Personally conducted: Around the...
 New bits of talk for young folks:...
 George Washington
 The bold highwayman - Nothing on...
 Comedies for children: Dicky Dot...
 The real king
 Among the law-makers
 Answered riddle jingles
 An electrical engineer
 A great improvement
 The firm of Big Brain, Little Brain...
 Simple Simon
 Catching a wild cat
 A slight misunderstanding
 Five jolly rogues
 The hearty hen
 Editorial notes
 The letter-box
 The Agassiz association: Fifty-eighth...
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover


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mods:accessCondition type restrictions on use displayLabel Rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
mods:identifier OCLC 01764817
mods:languageTerm text English
mods:physicalLocation Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
code UF
mods:name personal
mods:namePart Dodge, Mary Mapes
date 1830-1905
mods:roleTerm authority marcrelator Creator
mods:note Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
"A monthly magazine for boys and girls."
Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
funding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
mods:publisher Scribner,
mods:placeTerm New York
mods:dateIssued February 1886
mods:recordIdentifier source ufdc UF00065513_00167
mods:recordContentSource University of Florida
mods:relatedItem original
mods:extent 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
mods:title St. Nicholas.
mods:detail Enum1
mods:caption Vol. 13
mods:number 13
No. 4
mods:topic Children's literature
Literature for Children
St. Nicholas.
Saint Nicholas
mods:typeOfResource text
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METS:structMap STRUCT1 mixed
D1 Front Cover
P1 Page
D2 Frontispiece
P3 Plate
D3 Some famous Florentine babies 3 Chapter
P4 243
P5 244
P6 245
D4 Grandfather's valentine Poem
P7 246
D5 Fish-spearing through the ice 5
P8 247
P9 248
P10 249
P11 250
D6 Voices prophecy 6
P12 251
D7 Little Lord Fauntleroy 7
P13 252
P14 253
P15 254
P16 255
P17 256
D8 The girl who lost her pocket 8
P18 257
P20 259
P21 260
P22 261
P23 262
D9 Personally conducted: Around bay Naples 9
P24 263
P25 264
P26 265
P27 266
P28 267
P29 268
P30 269
P31 270
P32 271
D10 New bits talk for young folks: Going! Gone! 10
P33 272
D11 George Washington 11
P35 274
P36 275
P37 276
P38 277
P39 278
P40 279
P41 280
P42 281
D12 bold highwayman 12
P43 282 (MULTIPLE)
P44 283
D13 Valentines
P45 284
D14 Comedies children: Dicky Dot and Dotty Dick (play) 14
P46 285
P47 286
P48 287
D15 real king 15
P49 288
P50 289
D16 Badminton 16
P51 290
P52 291
D17 Among law-makers 17
P53 292
P54 293
P55 294
P56 295
P57 296
P58 297
P59 298
D18 Answered riddle jingles 18
P60 299
D19 An electrical engineer 19
P61 300
P62 301
P63 302
D20 A great improvement 20
P64 303
D21 firm Big Brain, Brain & Co. 21
P65 304
P66 305
P67 306
D22 Simple Simon 22
P68 307
D23 Catching a wild cat 23
P69 308
D24 slight misunderstanding 24
P70 309
D25 Five jolly rogues 25
P71 310
D26 hearty hen 26
P72 311
D27 Jack-in-the-pulpit 27
P73 312
P74 313
D28 Editorial notes 28
P75 314
D29 letter-box 29
P76 315
P77 316
D30 Agassiz association: Fifty-eighth report 30
P78 317
P79 318
D31 riddle-box 31
P80 319
P81 320
D32 Back
D33 33 Spine
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St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00167
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Portion of 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
Subjects / Keywords: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
serial   ( sobekcm )
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
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
System ID: UF00065513:00167
 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
    Some famous Florentine babies
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
    Grandfather's valentine
        Page 246
    Fish-spearing through the ice
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
    Voices of prophecy
        Page 251
    Little Lord Fauntleroy
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
    The girl who lost her pocket
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
    Personally conducted: Around the bay of Naples
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
    New bits of talk for young folks: Going! Going! Gone!
        Page 272
        Page 273
    George Washington
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
    The bold highwayman - Nothing on the breakfast table
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
    Comedies for children: Dicky Dot and Dotty Dick (play)
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
    The real king
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
    Among the law-makers
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
    Answered riddle jingles
        Page 299
    An electrical engineer
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
    A great improvement
        Page 303
    The firm of Big Brain, Little Brain & Co.
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
    Simple Simon
        Page 307
    Catching a wild cat
        Page 308
    A slight misunderstanding
        Page 309
    Five jolly rogues
        Page 310
    The hearty hen
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
    Editorial notes
        Page 314
    The letter-box
        Page 315
        Page 316
    The Agassiz association: Fifty-eighth report
        Page 317
        Page 318
    The riddle-box
        Page 319
        Page 320
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



21 5.






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[Copyright, i886, by THE CENTURY CO.]



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MORE than five hundred years ago the good
people of Florence were much troubled because
of the many poor homeless children in their city.
There were but few foundling asylums in those
days, and the poor little waifs and strays perished
miserably or grew up to be beggars and thieves,
excepting now and then when they were found in
time and cared for by kind men and women. And
so it was decided that there ought to be a home,
where all could be taken in and saved from their
misery. And no sooner was the good work thought
of than every one wished to do something to help
it. Leonardo Aretino, one of the greatest schol-
ars of that day, spoke so earnestly and 1.-..i, ii
about it, that Giovanni de' Medici, the gonfalo-
niere of justice, or chief magistrate of the city, took
1."- il Ir._ II .1,:. b, own hands, and commanded that
an asylum should be built. One of the most pow-
erful Florentine associations of workmen, known as
the guild of silk, agreed to manage the work.
A famous architect furnished the designs for it,
and a great artist made it beautiful with his dec-

orations. It is about these that I wish especially
to tell you. And to do so, I must begin with a
few words about the artist and his family.
There lived in Florence, in the fifteenth century,
a sculptor whose name was Luca della Robbia.
He was the son of a Florentine. He was taught,
when a child, to read and write, and then, while
he was still young, he was apprenticed to one of
the goldsmiths whose work was famous throughout
Europe. But, like many other young Florentines
who have begun life ashe did, he did not keep very
long at this work, but became a sculptor. He
cared so much for his work-as much as most
boys of his age care for play-that he would
keep at it all night long. Sometimes he would
be very cold, for Florence, with high mountains
all around it, is cold enough in winter ; and even
in summer-time a sculptor's studio, full of wet clay,
as it must always be, is chilly and damp. But
Luca bore it bravely, only stopping now and then
to kindle a fire of shavings with which to warm
his half-frozen feet. He lived for a while in


No. 4.

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Rimini, but it was at this time that artists in Flo-
rence were working with their whole hearts and
souls to make their new cathedral beautiful. There
never were people who loved their city as the
Florentines loved theirs, and Luca hurried back,
that he too might have a share in the great deco-
rations. And very lovely were his contributions,
for he represented on a marble bas-relief for the
organ-screen a choir of boys singing and playing
on many musical instruments, and so life-like are
they, that as you look at them you almost forget
they are marble, and wait to hear their music.
But it is by another kind of work that Luca
della Robbia is best known. For he longed, in
his great ambition, to do what no one else had
done; and there were Florentine sculptors as
great as he, and even greater. And so he soon
began to work in clay alone, which he glazed and
colored, and in this way he made beautiful things
which every one wanted as soon as they were
seen. And orders from churches and convents,

from palaces and hospitals, poured in upon him;
for no one knew the secret of this kind of work
but himself. And, by and by, he had more com-
missions than he could attend to, and so he called
to him his brothers--they all were sculptors-
and he told them the secret, and they and their
sons worked with him. And one of the nephews of
the great Luca, known as Andrea, became almost
as famous as his uncle. And so they went on work-
ing and sending their lovely reliefs to every part of
Italy for many years. But the family died out
with Luca's grandchildren, and as none of them
had ever revealed their secret, no one after their
death could work in majolica, or glazed clay, as
they had done.
It was with this majolica that Andrea, the greo
Luca's nephew, decorated the asylum for the poor
children the Spedale degl' Innocenti, as it was
called. On the outer side of the ..;i:..;. toward
the broad j5iaza by which it stands, is an arcade.
On this he set up a row of medallions, each of which
represents a baby in swaddling-clothes. The medal-
lions are colored in blue, but the pretty little babies
are white; and, though there are many of them, no
two are alike. Some have curling hair tumbling
over their foreheads; some have the short straight
locks you so often see on real babies; and some
have hardly any hair at all. Here is one who
looks as if he were laughing outright; here another
who is half pouting; and here still another, who
is smiling in that gentle, quiet way in which babies
so often smile in their sleep, when their mothers
or nurses will tell you the angels are whispering to
them. It was a pretty idea to put these little
figures where every one passing can see them,
and where they seem like suppliants for the chil-
dren within, whose smiles and pouts too often
change to tears and wailing, and whose needs are
If you go under the arcade and into the square
around which the asylum is built, you will see over
a door on your left another bas-relief by the same
great master. It is a picture of the Annunciation,
that hour when Mary, the mother of the Saviour,
was told of the coming of the Holy Child; it is a
subject which the old artists never grew tired of
representing, either on canvas, or in marble or clay.
But nowhere can you find one more beautiful than
this of Andrea della Robbia; and around the group,
like a border, is a semicircle of cherubs' heads. Such
demure little angels as some of them are, with
hair neatly parted in the middle, and a resigned
or attentive expression on their fresh baby faces !
But others look so mischievous and roguish that
you feel sure, if they were to come to life and
descend from their high place, they would play
many merry, fairy-like pranks.



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The hospital grew richer as time went on, until
to-day it supports more than seven thousand poor
friendless children. But they do not all live in the
old ', iii..i,_.. with its beautiful decorations. Boys,
when they are old enough, are sent out into the
country that they may work in the fields. Girls

are made servants or are taught a trade. But
they all are under the care of the charity founded
by the good Florentines so many years ago; and
when they are in trouble they go back to the old
building designed by Brunelleschi and decorated
by Andrea della Robbia, with the beautiful little




figures, called nowadays the Della Robbia Bambini
(or babies).
And so, year after year children are brought in,
to grow up and go out into the great world, and to
have their places taken by more poor little shelter-
less ones, of whom there are in Florence, as in
every other large city, always too many. But,
while foundlings have come and gone, the pretty

white babies have never moved from their blue
beds over the arcade, and they still smile and pout
and laugh at the passer-by, whether the rain pours
down upon them, or whether the sun shines over
the wide piazza, even as they did in the days long
ago before the last of the Della Robbias had died
and their beautiful secret of making their special
kind of glazed majolica had been lost forever.


,! *..-'


^ ^ ^ ""' ; -




OUT in the sunshine golden,
The pomegranates glow
With waxen cups vermilion;
The roses are in blow;
Betwixt the dusk magnolias,
I see the red-birds' wings,
And in the swaying live-oaks
A merry mocker sings.

The orange-trees are budded;
The jasmines hang with gold;
And neathh the solemn pine-trees,
Sand-lilies white unfold.
FLORIDA, February, 1886.


But oh, my heart's beloved,
My little love, my dear,
It seems like dreary winter
Because you are not here!

You have my heart, my darling,
Up in the land of cold;
And with you is the summer,
My Rose, my six-year-old.
I feel the winter weather,
For I am sixty-nine.
Oh, come and bring the summer,
My dearest Valentine!





ABOUT thirty years ago, I was stranded by the
severe winter weather, which put a stop to naviga-
tion, at the old army station of Green Bay, now a
flourishing city in the great State of Wisconsin,
at the mouth of the Fox River,-at the south-
western extremity of a long arm of Lake Michigan.
Society in that far-off army post, though cut off
by the long winter from the outside world, was
very delightful in those days, and the good times I
had, both indoors and out, during those snow-bound
months, I have never forgotten.
But what I wish especially to describe for the
boy readers of ST. NICHOLAS is a curious Indian
custom that I discovered in the course of my
winter rambles. I had frequently noticed, while
booming along the ice road on Fox River be-
hind one of the fast little French ponies, a curious
lot of black dots on the ice, in the retired nooks
and coves along the farther shore. "What are
they? I asked; and the invariable reply was:
" They are Indians fishing." This puzzled me still
more, and I resolved to investigate. So one day I
crossed the frozen river, and, approaching one of
those mysterious black dots, found it to be appar-
ently only a bundle in a blanket, scarcely large
enough to contain a human form. But, looking
closer, I could see, first from one bundle and then
from another, the quick motion of a pole, or spear-
handle, bobbing up and down. A word, a touch,
even a gentle push, only called out a grunt in re-
ply, but at last one bundle did stretch itself into
a bright young Indian brave with wondering and
wonderful eyes peering at me from under a mop of
black and glossy hair. A little tobacco, a little
pantomime, and a little broken English succeeded
in making him understand that I wished to know
how he carried on his fishing under that funny
Then I saw it all. Seated, Turk fashion, on
the border of his blanket, which he could thus
draw up so as to entirely envelop himself in it, he
was completely in the dark, so far as the daylight
was concerned; and, thus enshrouded, he was
hovering over a round hole in the ice, about eigh-
teen inches in diameter. A small tripod of birch
sticks erected over the hole helped to hold up
the blanket and steady a spear, which, with a deli-
cate handle nine or ten feet long, was held in the
right hand, the tines resting on the edge of the hole,
and the end of the pole sticking through an open-
ing in the blanket above. From the other hand,

dropped into the water a string on the end of which
was a rude wooden decoy-fish, small enough to
represent bait tothe unsuspecting perch or pickerel
who should spy it. This decoy was loaded so as to
sink slowly, and was so moved and maneuvered
as to imitate the motions of a living fish.
Crawling under the blanketwith my Indian friend,
I was surprised at the distinctness and beauty with
which everything could be seen by the subdued
light that came up through the ice. The bottom
of the river, six or eight feet below us, was clearly
visible, and seemed barely four feet away. The
grasses, vegetable growths, and spots of pebbly
bottom formed curious little vistas and recesses, in
some of which dreamily floated a school of perch
and smaller fish. Each little air-bubble sparkled
like a gem, and the eye delighted in tracing and
watching the mystery of beautiful water forma-
tions, where every crevice seemed a little fairy
world, with changing lights or shadows made by
the sunlight through the transparent ice.
The wooden decoy-fish, meanwhile, was being
delicately handled by the Indian fisherman, now
raised 1. ,,i to the top of the water, then sinking
slowly; the very action of sinking and the posi-
tion of its artificial fins made it run forward, now
this way, and now' that, until it really seemed
Suddenly, from somewhere I could not tell
where, it seemed to come by magic-a large
"dory," or "moon-eyed pike," appeared on the
river bottom. The watchful Indian slowly raised
the decoy-bait toward the surface, the larger fish
following it with interested and puzzled eyes.
There was a sudden movement of the spear; down
it darted; its sharp prongs pierced the unsuspect-
ing pike, which was speedily drawn up and thrown
wriggling on the ice. Then the blanket was re-ad-
justed, and the fishing was resumed. My bright
young Indian friend said he could catch from
twenty to thirty pounds of fish in an afternoon in
this manner, and sometimes could even secure
double that quantity.
So ingenious and exciting a method of fishing
interested me greatly, and when, years after, I
again visited Green Bay, with two bright boys
and zealous fishermen of my own, we, with some
other wide-awake young fellows, adapted the In-
dian method of fishing,-which was somewhat too
rough to be literally followed,-to suit the abil-
ities and ingenuities of civilized American lads.


* -~~-~--

INDIANS SPE '- i .' ':' . '.

Since thehi l. : I 1 ,' I, , 1 ,,I ,, l I,,-,,
into pract.. .1 i .... ,- ." . I : i. :.l i.,.. ,
pickerel p.,. -l I .: i. .i .:... ..: i..
ca m e o u t .i .i... l .. ., n -h ... : i i
m en with ,:r i! I,: in .. .. I,
For such I. . i,: I i.,. .r
opportun it I ..: ,, I til i..:.-, l... ri ,
m ode of f -l... ,.. .1. ..i.
In th e fi :t t ,I :.. ,. I.uir ., ..... .- i.I.ir .
grand im p ,:.... r.. .i -. ii,. i. .! .1 'i... -
making it possible for the sport to be comfortable,
as well as exciting and interesting. This shelter,
which can be made of any convenient boards from
an inch to an inch and a half thick, was about
four feet high, four feet long, and three feet wide
at the bottom,-and two feet long and eighteen
inches wide at the top. The front only of the
shelter was perpendicular, which caused the other
three sides to slant. We left a four-inch square
hole in the top, which was level, about three inches
from the slanting end, so that the spear, which


.1, Ci



passed through it, would come about over the
center of the bottom. To cover this hole we used
a block one foot square, with a three-inch hole in
the middle. To exclude light from around the
spear, we tacked a cloth funnel to the outer edges
of the block, firmly fastening it with inch square
strips nailed on. This funnel was long enough to
exclude the light by rumpling or wrinkling around
the pole, while the opening was loose enough to
admit of free and vigorous action. The illustra-





! ~"~I '11



tion on this page affords the best description of the
house, which can of course be modified to suit the
tastes or convenience of any one who may choose
to build a little structure of the kind. One of my
friends uses a six-foot-square house with a floor,
a seat, and a small charcoal stove; he can thus
enjoy a change of position, his pipe, or book, at
leisure, at such times as the fish are not running.

I- - _-_ --- 7 - - - -- -- =



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47. j

The best time for the spor! : i,., i ...i... ....1 i .r'
after sunset.
Of course no flcor is nece- . -,..I 1 1.1... .
bit of board which raises I,... ... r n, i..
inches from the ice would s:.. .
I must add by way of cawi ..... I, .. I...I .. ,
crack in the box should ........ ,...
ray of light not only obstru..r: r.. I :..... -
vents fish from coming to Ii.. I1. !.
ing that maybe discovered after setting up the box
on the ice, can be closed with a handful of snow.
The tines of the spears which we used were made
of quarter-inch, round iron; and for fish weigh-
ing two or three pounds, three-sixteenths or one-
eighth iron will answer. I have caught four and
five pound pickerel on a spear of one-eighth inch

iron, with tines four inches long. If quarter-inch
iron is used, the tines should be six inches long;
if one-eighth inch, four inches will be long enough.
Any blacksmith can make these tines with barbs as.
shown in the figure on the next page. We had them
pointed and bent at the upper end, so as to be driven
into the handle, as shown by the dotted lines.
Our spear-handles were made from straight pine

_-__-_ ---.,-- -_-- -

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I. 4

or spruce shingle laths about one and a quarter
inches wide, tapering from the thickness of the lath
at one end, to three-fourths of an inch at the other.
They may be from nine to twelve feet in length -
but a good average is ten feet.
The handle should be grooved so that the tines





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may be sunk at least half-way into it, to prevent
slipping or twisting. They should be lashed very
i;i.li and carefully to the pole with stove-pipe
wire or any other malleable wire.
The artificial bait or minnow, of which there are
two outline figures on this page, we whittled out
of pine.. They were three or four inches long,
and in proportions as drawn. In the side-view,

Fig I

sinking to a depth of three or four feet. Then it
should be guided in a circle around the outer limit
as far as can be seen, then returned to the center,
about three or four feet down ; and again, kept al-
most still. Probably the fisherman will suddenly
be surprised to see a large fish almost under his
eyes. Now, without excitement, gradually lifting
the bait with one hand, with the other he takes
the spear, and poises it over the fish, letting it
gently slide through the hand and approach him,
while he attracts his intended victim with the
motions of the bait.
When he has lowered the spear to about eighteen



the dotted and shaded part, A, shows the shape
and proportion of a hollow, opening from below,
to be run full of melted lead; we made these hol-
lows larger at the top, so that the lead would not
drop out, and poured in lead enough to sink the
minnow rapidly. After cutting out the hole, and
before running in the lead, we drove in the side-
fins, which we cut from bits of tin with a pair of
strong scissors. The dotted lines show how these
fins met in the center of the space which held lead.
The lead thus held the fins, and the fins kept the
lead more securely in place. The back-fin was
also cut from tin and driven into a slit made with
a knife along the back. A bent pin made a small
eye, or staple, which was set over the center of the
lead and just ahead of the back fin. We defi-
nitely settled the position of the staple by tying
a fine fish-line to it and experimenting in a pail of
water. When the fish hung perfectly level, the
staple was in the proper position. By pulling the
string, the resistance of the water on the side-fins
caused the fish to shoot ahead; and on slacking
the thread, it also shot ahead while sinking; in
this way, by giving the thread little short jerks
and alternately lifting and lowering, we made our
decoy-bait to play about in very fish-like motions.
Sometimes we used uncolored minnows, and
sometimes we painted them white, the back a
dark greenish gray.
The young fisherman must not keep too contin-
ued an action with the bait; but he should merely
raise and lower it a few inches, by little half-inch
jerks, for a few minutes at a time ; every once in
a while, however, he may raise it quickly nearly to
the top of the hole. Here it should be made to
swim and glide about, in whatever way it will, while

inches or a foot from the fish's back, being care-
ful to keep the hand raised, he should strike it
suddenly and he will be apt to catch. This is a
trick which any one can soon learn. Of course a
few failures must be expected, at first.
If a lad feel nervous and uncertain, and can not
use both hands as described, let him throw the
line over the left knee so as to hold the minnow
just over the fish, which will probably remain long
enough for him to lower the spear gently with
both hands and to strike with certainty. As a
rule the boys followed this course, but the expert
manner is that first described.
During a snow-storm or on a partly cloudy day,
or just before and after sunset, are the best times
for successful sport.
It will not be difficult to see; for if the box
shuts out all outside light, it will be beautifully
transparent and clear below, even until late in
the evening. If the ice is covered with snow, it
should be cleared away for a space.
A thick overcoat should be worn, although the
animal heat in the box will make the spearman
warm enough, and sometimes too warm. I have
fished comfortably when the thermometer was ten
degrees below zero.
The door of the house should be on the left
hand of the spearman, who should sit with his back
to the perpendicular end. When he catches a
fish, he unbuttons the door, pokes the fish outside,
pulls the spear in, and resumes fishing.
On many of our inland lakes and ponds this
fish-spearing can be combined with a day's skating
and other amusements, and will give to many a
boy a good day's sport which he will -long re-






WHEN I to the woodland was wont to repair,
In the season of pleasure and mirth,
It rustled to myriad flocks of the air
And numberless tribes of the earth.

How slender the sound that is echoed here now
These bright, frozen arches to thrill -
The snap of a twig or the creak of a bough
Or the sigh of the wind on the hill.

The nest of the warbler is empty and tossed;
The partridge is lonely and shy;
And, clad in a livery white as the frost,
The rabbit slips silently by.

The squirrel is hid in the heart of a tree,
Secure from the sleet and the snow.
And who was so merry and saucy as he ?
The jauntiest fellow I know I

Yet, under the burden of ice at its brink,
All shining and glassy and gray,
The sweet-throated stream where I loitered to drink
Is murmuring still on its way.

And hark! what a note from the dusky retreat
The bird of the winter sends forth !
Who taught you defiance of tempest and sleet,
O lover and loved of the North?

Though forest and hill-side are heavy with snow,
Yet hope is alive in the breast,-
The water, imprisoned, is calling below;
The chickadee chirps of her nest !

4, -

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IT was during the voyage that Cedric's mother
told him that his home was not to be hers; and
when he first understood it, his grief was so great
that Mr. Havisham saw that the Earl had been
wise in making the arrangements that his mother
should be quite near him, and see him often; for it
was very plain he could nothave borne the separa-
tion otherwise. But his mother managed the little
fellow so sweetly and lovingly, and made him feel
that she would be so near him, that, after a while,
he ceased to be oppressed by the fear of any real
My house is not far from the Castle, Ceddie,"
she repeated each time the subject was referred to -
" a very little way from yours, and you can always
run in and see me every day, and you will have so
many things to tell me! and we shall be so happy
together It is a beautiful place. Your papa has
often told me about it. He loved it very much;
and you will love it too."
I should love it better if you were there," his
small lordship said, with a heavy little sigh.
He could not but feel puzzled by so strange a
state of affairs, which could put his "Dearest" in
one house and himself in another.
The fact was that Mrs. Errol had thought it bet-
ter not to tell him why this plan.had been made.
I should prefer he should not be told," she
said to Mr. Havisham. He would not really
understand; he would only be shocked and hurt;
and I feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will be
a more natural and affectionate one if he does not
know that his grandfather dislikes me so bitterly.
He has never seen hatred or hardness, and it would
be a great blow to him to find out that any one could
hate me. He is so loving himself, and I am so
dear to him It is better for him that he should
not be told until he is much older, and it is far
better for the Earl. It would make a barrier be-
tween them, even though Ceddie is such a child."
So Cedric only knew that there was some mys-
terious reason for the arrangement, some reason
which he was not old enough to understand, but
which would be explained when he was older. He
was puzzled; but, after all, it was not the reason he
cared about so much; and after many talks with his
mother, in which she comforted him and placed
before him the bright side of the picture, the dark
side of it gradually began to fade out, though now

and then Mr. Havisham saw him sitting in some
queer little old-fashioned attitude, watching the
sea, with avery grave face, and more than once
he heard an unchildish sigh rise to his lips.
I don't like it," he said once as he was having
one of his almost venerable talks with the lawyer.
" You don't know how much I don't like it; but
there are a great many troubles in this world, and
you have to bear them. Mary says so, and I've
heard Mr. Hobbs say it too. And Dearest wants
me to like to live with my grandpapa, because, you
see, all his children are dead, and that 's very
mournful. It makes you sorry for a man, when
all his children have died- and one was killed
One of the things which always delighted the
people who made the acquaintance of his young
lordship was the sage little air he wore at times
when he-gave himself up to conversation ;-com-
bined with his occasionally elderly remarks and
the extreme innocence and seriousness of his round
childish face, it was irresistible. He was such a
handsome, blooming, curly-headed little fellow,
that, when he sat down and nursed his knee with
his chubby hands, and conversed with much gravity,
he was a source of great entertainment to his
hearers. Gradually Mr. Havisham had begun to
derive a great deal of private pleasure and amuse-
ment from his society.
And so you are going to try to like the Earl,"
he said.
"Yes," answered his lordship. "He's my
relation, and of course you have to like your rela-
tions; and besides, he 's been very kind to me.
When a person does so many things for you, and
wants you to have everything you wish for, of
course you'd like him if he was n't your relation;
but when he 's your relation and does that, why,
you 're very fond of him."
"Do you think," suggested Mr. Havisham,
"that he will be fond of you?"
Well," said Cedric, I think he will, because,
you see, I 'm his relation, too, and I 'm his boy's
little boy besides, and, well, don't you see-of
course he must be fond of me now, or he would n't
want me to have everything that I like, and he
would n't have sent you for me."
Oh !" remarked the lawyer, that's it, is it?"
"Yes," said Cedric, "that's it. Don't you
think that's it, too ? Of course a man would be
fond of his grandson."



The people who had been seasick had no sooner
recovered from their seasickness, and come on deck
to recline in their steamer-chairs and enjoy them-
selves, than every one seemed to know the romantic
story of little Lord Fauntleroy, and every one took
an interest in the little fellow, who ran about the
ship or walked with his mother or the tall, thin
old lawyer, or talked to the sailors. Every one
liked him; he made friends everywhere. He was
ever ready to make friends. When the gentle-
men walked up and down the deck, and let him
walk with them, he stepped out with a manly,
sturdy little tramp, and answered all their jokes
with much gay enjoyment; when the ladies talked
to him, there was always laughter in the group of
which he was the center; when he played with the
children, there was always magnificent fun on hand.
Among the sailors he had the heartiest friends;
he heard miraculous stories about pirates and ship-
wrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice
ropes and rig toy ships, and gained an amount of
information concerning "tops'les" and "main-
s'les," quite surprising. His conversation had,
indeed, quite a nautical flavor at times, and on one
occasion he raised a shout of laughter in a group
of ladies and gentlemen who were sitting on deck,
wrapped in shawls and overcoats, by saying sweetly,
and with a very engaging expression:
Shiver my timbers, but it's a cold day "
It surprised him when they laughed. He had
picked up this sea-faring remark from an elderly
naval man of the name of Jerry, who told him
stories in which it occurred frequently. To judge
from his stories of his own adventures, Jerry had
made some two or three thousand voyages, and
had been invariably shipwrecked on each occasion
on an island densely populated with bloodthirsty
cannibals. Judging, also, by these same exciting
adventures, he had been partially roasted and eaten
frequently and had been scalped some fifteen or
twenty times.
That is why he is so bald," explained Lord
Fauntleroy to his mamma. After you have been
scalped several times the hair never grows again.
Jerry's never grew after that last time, when the
King of the Parromachaweekins did it with the
knife made out of the skull of the Chief of the
Wopslemumpkies. He says it was one of the
most serious times he ever had. He was so fright-
ened that his hair stood right straight up when the
king flourished his knife, and it never would lie
down, and the king wears it that way now, and it
looks something like a hair-brush. I never heard
anything like the asperiences Jerry has had! I
should so like to tell Mr. Hobbs about them !"
Sometimes, when the weather was very disagreea-
ble and people were kept below decks in the saloon,

a party of his grown-up friends would persuade
him to tell them some of these asperiences" of
Jerry's, and as he sat relating them with great
delight and fervor, there was certainly no more
popular voyager on any ocean steamer crossing the
Atlantic than little Lord Fauntleroy. He was
always innocently and good-naturedly ready to do
his small best to add to the general entertainment,

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and there was a charm in the very unconscious-
ness of his own childish importance.
"Jerry's stories int'rust them very much," he
said to his mamma. "For my part-you must
excuse me, Dearest--but sometimes I should have
thought they could n't be all quite true, if they
had n't happened to Jerry himself; but as they all
happened to Jerry-well, it 's very strange, you
know, and perhaps sometimes he may forget and
be a little mistaken, as he 's been scalped so often.


Being scalped a great many times might make a
person forgetful."
It was eleven days after he had said good-bye
to his friend Dick before he reached Liverpool; and
it was on the night of the twelfth day that the
carriage, in which he and his mother and Mr.
Havisham had driven from the station, stopped
before the gates of Court Lodge. They could not
see much of the house in the darkness. Cedric
only saw that there was a driveway under great
arching trees, and after the carriage had rolled
down this driveway a short distance, he saw an
open door and a stream of bright light coming
through it.
Mary had come with them to attend her mistress,
and she had reached the house before them.
When Cedric jumped out of the carriage he saw
one or two servants standing in the wide, bright
hall, and Mary stood in the doorway.
Lord Fauntleroy sprang at her with a gay little
SDid you get here, Mary ? he said. Here 's
Mary, Dearest," and he kissed the maid on her
rough red cheek.
"I am glad you are here, Mary," Mrs. Errol
said to her in a low voice. It is such a comfort
to me to see you. It takes the strangeness away."
And she held out her little hand which Mary
squeezed encouragingly. She knew how this first
"strangeness" must feel to this little mother who
had left her own land and was about to give up
her child.
The English servants looked with curiosity at
both the boy and his mother. They had heard all
sorts of rumors about them both; they knew how
angry the old Earl had been, and why Mrs. Errol
was to live at the lodge and her little boy at the
castle; they knew all about the great fortune he
was to inherit, and about the savage old grand-
father and his gout and his tempers.
He '11 have no easy time of it, poor little
chap," they had said among themselves.
But they did not know what sort of a little lord
had come among them; they did not quite under-
stand the character of the next Earl of Dorincourt.
He pulled off his overcoat quite as if he were
used to doing things for himself, and began to
look about him. He looked about the broad hall,
at the pictures and stags' antlers and curious
things that ornamented it. They seemed curious
to him because he had never seen such things
before in a private house.
Dearest," he said, "this is a very pretty house,
is n't it? I am glad you are going to live here.
It's quite a large house."
It was quite a large house compared to the
one in the shabby New York street, and it was

very pretty and cheerful. Mary led them upstairs
to a bright chintz-hung bedroom where a fire was
burning, and a large snow-white Persian cat was
sleeping luxuriously on the white fur hearth-rug.
It was thehouse-kaper up at theCastle, ma'am.
sint her to yez," explained Mary. It 's herself
is a kind-hearted lady an' has had everything done
to prepare' fur yez. I seen her meself a few
minnits, an' she was fond av the Capt'in, ma'am,
an' graivs fur him ; and she said to say the big cat
slapin' on the rug might make the room same
homelike to yez. She knowed Capt'in Errol whin
he was a bye -an' a foine handsum' bye she ses
he was, an' a foine young man wid a plisint word
fur every one, great an' small. An' scs I to her,
ses I: He 's lift a bye that's like him, ma'am, fur
a foiner little felly niver sthipped in shoe-leather.' "
When they were ready, they went downstairs
into another big bright room; its ceiling was low,
and the furniture was heavy and beautifully carved,
the chairs were deep and had high massive backs,
and there were queer shelves and cabinets with
strange, pretty ornaments on them. There was a
great tiger-skin before the fire, and an arm-chair
on each side of it. The stately white cat had
responded to Lord Fauntleroy's stroking and fol-
lowed him downstairs, and when he threw himself
down upon the rug, she curled herself up grandly
beside him as if she intended to make friends.
Cedric was so pleased that he put his head down
by hers, and lay stroking her, not noticing what
his mother and Mr. Havisham were saying.
They were, indeed, speaking in a rather low tone.
Mrs. Errol looked a little pale and agitated.
He need not go to-night?" she said. "He will
stay with me to-night? "
"Yes," answered Mr. Havisham in the same
low tone; it will not be necessary for him to go
to-night. I myself will go to the Castle as soon as
we have dined, and inform the Earl of our arrival."
Mrs. Errol glanced down at Cedric. He was
lying in a graceful, careless attitude .upon the
black-and-yellow skin; the fire shone on his
handsome, flushed little face, and on the tumbled,
curly hair spread out on the rug; the big cat was
purring in drowsy content, she liked the caressing
touch of the kind little hand on her fur.
Mrs. Errol smiled faintly.
His lordship does not know all that he is tak-
ing from me," she said rather sadly. Then she
looked at the lawyer. "Will you tell him, if you
please," she said, "that I should rather not have
the money? "
"The money! Mr. Havishan exclaimed.
"You can not mean the income he proposed to
settle upon you "
Yes," she answered, quite simply; "I think I




should rather not have it. I am obliged to accept
the house, and I thank him for it, because it
makes it possible for me to be near my child;
but I have a little money of my own,- enough to
live simply upon,- and I should rather not take
the other. As he dislikes me so much, I should
feel a little as if I were selling Cedric to him. I
am giving him up only because I love him enough
to forget myself for his good, and because his
father would wish it to be so."
Mr. Havisham rubbed his chin.
This is very strange," he said. He will be
very angry. He wont understand it."
I think he will understand it, after he thinks
it over," she said. I do not really need the
money, and why should I accept luxuries from the
man who hates me so much that he takes my little
boy from me- his son's child?"
Mr. Havisham looked reflective for a few
"I will deliver your message," he said after-
And then the dinner was brought in and they
sat down together, the big cat taking a seat on a
chair near Cedric's and purring majestically
throughout the meal.
When, later in the evening, Mr. Havisham pre-
sented himself at the Castle, he was taken at once
to the Earl. He found him sitting by the fire in a
luxurious easy-chair, his foot on a gout-stool. He
looked at the lawyer sharply from under his shaggy
eyebrows, but Mr. Havisham could see that, in
spite of his pretense at calmness, he was nervous
and secretly excited.
"Well," he said ; well, Havisham, come back,
have you? What 's the news? "
Lord Fauntleroy and his mother are at Court
Lodge," replied Mr. Havisham. "They bore the
voyage very well and are in excellent health."
The Earl made a half-impatient sound and
moved his hand restlessly.
"Glad to hear it," he said brusquely. So
far, so good. Make yourself comfortable. Have
a glass of wine and settle down. What else ? "
His lordship remains with his mother to-night.
To-morrow I will bring him to the Castle."
The Earl's elbow was resting on the arm of his
chair; he put his hand up and shielded his eyes
with it.
"Well," he said; "go on. You know I told
you not to write to me about the matter, and I
know nothing whatever about it. What kind of a
lad is he ? 'I don't care about the mother; what
sort of a lad is he ? "
Mr. Havisham drank a little of the glass of port
he had poured out for himself, and sat holding
it in his hand.

It is rather difficult to judge of the character
of a child of seven," he said cautiously.
The Earl's prejudices were very intense. He
looked up quickly and uttered a rough word.
A fool, is he ? he exclaimed. Or a clumsy
cub? His American blood tells, does it ? "
"'I do not think it has injured him, my lord,"
replied the lawyer in his dry, deliberate fashion.
" I don't know much about children, but I thought
him rather a fine lad."
His manner of speech was always deliberate and
unenthusiastic, but he made it a trifle more so
than usual. He had a shrewd fancy that it would
be better that the Earl should judge for himself,
and be quite unprepared for his first interview with
his grandson.
Healthy and well-grown ? asked my lord.
Apparently very healthy, and quite well-
grown," replied the lawyer.
Straight-limbed and well enough to lock at ? "
demanded the Earl.
A very slight smile touched Mr. Havisham's thin
lips. There rose up before his mind's eye the
picture he had left at Court Lodge,- the beauti-
ful, graceful child's body lying upon the tiger-skin
in careless comfort--the bright, tumbled hair
spread on the rug-the bright, rosy boy's face.
Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord,
as boys go," he said, "though I am scarcely a
judge, perhaps. But you will find him somewhat
different from most English children, I dare say."
"I have n't a doubt of that,"'.snarled the Earl,
a twinge of gout seizing him. 'A lot of impudent
little beggars, those American children; I 've
heard that often enough."
"It is not exactly impudence in his case," said
Mr. Havisham. I can scarcely describe what
the difference is. He has lived more with older
people than with children, and the difference
seems to be a mixture of maturity and childishness."
"American impudence protested the Earl.
"I 've heard of it before. They call it precocity
and freedom. Beastly, impudent bad manners;
that 's what it is "
Mr. Havisham drank some more port. He sel-
dom argued with his lordly patron,- never when
his lordly patron's noble leg was inflamed by gout.
At such times it was always better to leave him
alone. So there was a silence of a few moments.
It was Mr. Havisham who broke it.
I have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol,"
he remarked.
I don't want any of her messages growled
his lordship ; the less I hear of her the better."
This is a rather important one," explained
the lawyer. She prefers not to accept the in-
come you proposed to settle on her."


The Earl started visibly.
"What 's that?" he cried out. "What 's
that ? "
Mr. Havisham repeated his words.
She says it is not necessary, and that as the
relations between you are not friendly "
"Not friendly !" ejaculated my lord savagely;
" I should say they were not friendly I hate to
think of her! A mercenary, sharp-voiced Ameri-
can I don't wish to see her "
"My lord," said Mr. Havisham, "you can

blustered my lord. She shall have it sent to her.
She sha'n't tell people that she has to live like a
pauper because I have done nothing for her! She
wants to give the boy a bad opinion of me I
suppose she has poisoned his mind against me
already! "
"No," said Mr. Havisham. "I have another
message, which will prove to you that she has not
done that."
"I don't want to hear it! panted the Earl, out
of breath with anger and excitement and gout.


scarcely call her mercenary. She has asked for
nothing. She does not accept the money you
offer her."
"All done for effect snapped his noble lord-
ship. She wants to wheedle me into seeing
her. She thinks I shall admire her spirit. I don't
admire it! It 's only American independence I
wont have her living like a beggar at my park gates.
As she's the boy's mother, she has a position to keep
up, and she shall keep it up. She shall have the
money, whether she likes it or not! "
She wont spend it," said Mr. Havisham.
"I don't care whether she spends it or not!"

But Mr. Havisham delivered it.
She asks you not to let Lord Fauntleroy hear
anything which would lead him to understand
that you separate him from her because of your
prejudice against her. He is very fond of her, and
she is convinced that it would cause a barrier to
exist between you. She says he would not com-
prehend it, and it might make him fear you in
some measure, or at least cause him to feel less
affection for you. She has told him that he is too
young to understand the reason, but shall hear it
when he is older. She wishes that there should
be no shadow on your first meeting."





The Earl sank back into his chair. His deep-set
fierce old eyes gleamed under his beetling brows.
Come, now! he said, still breathlessly.
"Come, now! You don't mean the mother
has n't told him ? "
Not one word, my lord," replied the lawyer cool-
ly. That I can assure you. The child is prepared
to believe you the most amiable and affectionate of
grandparents. Nothing- absolutely nothing has
been said to him to give him the slightest doubt
of your perfection. And as I carried out your
commands in every detail, while in New York, he
certainly regards you as a wonder of generosity."

He does, eh ? said the Earl.
I give you my word of honor," said Mr. Hav-
isham, that Lord Fauntleroy's impressions of
you will depend entirely upon yourself. And if
you will pardon the liberty I take in making the
suggestion, I think you will succeed better with him
if you take the precaution not to speak slightingly
of his mother."
"'Pooh, pooh I said the Earl. The young-
ster 's only seven years old "
He has spent those seven years this mother's
side," returned Mr. Havisham; and she has all
his affection."

(To be continued.)



EVERY one knew that Kitty Brimblecomn was
careless long before she lost her pocket. She lost
not only little things such as thimbles and pencils
and pocket-knives, but she lost her hat and one
of her shoes, the soup-ladle and the pendulum of
the clock, her wax doll's head and her brother
Jack's tame owl; but all that was nothing com-
pared with losing the baby! He was her own
brother, and was only six months old when
she lost him. Nurse had him out in the park, in
his carriage, and was sitting on a bench gossip-
ing with a crony, when Kitty seized the opportunity
to run away, rolling the carriage before her. It
went very easily, and she thought she could give
the baby a ride just as well as Nurse; but un-
happily, when she went into the crowded street a
hand-organ with a monkey came along. Kitty was
especially interested in monkeys; her brother Jack
had said they would stuff their cheeks full of nuts,
just like squirrels; she had some nuts in her pocket,
and wished to see whether this monkey would
make his cheeks stick out with them. And she
left the baby in his carriage on the sidewalk, and
forgot all about him!.
And such a time as there was about it Kitty's
mother fainted, and Nurse had hysterics, and two
policemen were employed to find the baby, and
Jack said it was just like Kitty, and her father said
she could not be trusted at all,- and it was ten
o'clock at night before they found him !
And that monkey just cracked the nuts and ate
them like anybody else. And Jack said he had
never said that monkeys would stuff their cheeks
full like squirrels.
VOL. XIII.-17.

Kitty resolved that nothing should ever tempt
her to be careless again.
And she did improve very much after that. If
she had not, her mother would never have allowed
her to spend a whole month at Grandma's.
Grandma lived in the country, on a farm, and
there were good times to be had there, even in
winter. The whole family went there to spend
Christmas, and Grandma wanted Kitty to be left
with her, for a long visit. She said Kitty's cheeks
were pale, and she thought a little vacation would
do her good, and she wanted her to keep the house
bright and lively. And she did n't pay the least
attention to Jack when he said that perhaps Kitty
might make it too lively, and that she 'd better
keep him to find the things that Kitty would lose.
Grandma did n't think Kitty so troublesome a girl
as she was considered at home; she was a very
kind grandmother, and found excuses for her
grandchild. Perhaps you may have noticed that
grandmothers are very often like that.
Kitty jumped for joy when her mother, after
some hesitation, said she might stay. Some peo-
ple might have thought it pleasanter in the city
in the winter, but Kitty preferred the country.
She liked to rise early, when there was n't a
sign that it was morning, except the persistent
crowing of the old red rooster, and go out to the
barn with Absalom, the hired man, who went to
feed the horses and cattle, and to milk the cows.
Very often it was so early that stars were still
shining in the sky, and it was so still that it seemed
as if nobody were alive in the world. Kitty felt
just as if she had risen early to go on a journey,



and there was something very fascinating about it.
Kitty. liked to feed the cows, which looked at
her with friendly eyes, and the frisky little calf,
Kitty's namesake and her especial property, always
expected to have its head stroked. The old red
rooster, that had been trying for the last hour to
convince his lazy family that it was time to wake
up, came strutting along to take his breakfast from
her hands, followed by a flock of sleepy hens cluck-
ing their dissatisfaction at so early a rising, but not
wanting in appetite. Even the lordly old gob-
bler, with a very infirm temper that allowed no
familiarities, would bend his lofty neck to eat from
the dish Kitty held in her hand.
The old gray mare always whinnied for a lump
of sugar as soon as Kitty came in sight, and Kitty
never failed to have it. It was fascinating, too, to
see Absalom milk the cows, and while he was doing
it he sang beautiful songs, that would almost bring
tears to your eyes, about his lovely Mary Jane "
and The Lass that Tore her Hair."
When they went back to the house Kitty usually
curled up on the lounge in the sitting-room and
had a nap until breakfast-time.
But going to the barn in the morning was only
a small part of the fun that was to be had at
Grandma's. Kitty was sure there were nowhere
such hills for coasting as those about Cloverfield;
and what were rinks for skating compared with the
mill-pond? The snow staid on the ground
longer than it did in the city, so there were plenty
of sleigh rides; and there were singing-schools,
and spelling-schools, and apple-bees, and all sorts
of frolics to which Grandma always let her go,
because they did not last until late, as such merry-
makings did in the city.
At first the girls and boys were a little shy of
Kitty, because she came from the city; but they
soon became very friendly, and Kitty thought they
were as agreeable friends as she had ever known,
especially the little girls, who admired her clothes
very much, and coaxed their mothers to bang their
hair, because Kitty wore hers banged.
Mary Jane Lawton lived in the next house to
Grandma's, and she was just Kitty's age; and
Kitty liked her very much, though some of the
girls told her in confidence that Mary Jane was
haughty and proud.
Rosy and Roxy Dayton were Kitty's particular
friends, and she could tell them apart, even with-
out their necklaces on, although she had known
them only a little while; and she was quite proud
of her ability to distinguish them, for they were
twins, and looked so much alike that their own
relatives could scarcely have told them apart, if
one had not worn a red necklace and one a blue.
Martha Stebbins, the minister's little girl, was

also a friend of Kitty's, but she could not come
out to play very often, because she had so many
little brothers and sisters, and was always having
to rock one of them to sleep.
But it happened one Saturday afternoon, when
there was very fine coasting on Redtop Hill, that
Kitty and all her friends could go. Martha Steb-
bins's little brothers and sisters were so considerate
as to go to sleep without being rocked; Rosy
and Roxy, who had to help in the Saturday bak-
ing, by peeling apples and seeding raisins and
chopping meat, had finished their work; Mary
Jane Lawton had recovered from her cold; and
Grandma said Kitty could go and stay all the after-
noon, if she would only go around by Mr. Spring
the watch-maker's, on her way home, and ask him
to fasten one of the glasses which had dropped
out of Grandma's spectacles. It would take Mr.
Spring only a very few minutes, and she could
wait for them, and she was not on any account
to forget, because Grandma could not see to read
the hymns in church the next day without her
" glasses."
The party set out in very high spirits, each with
a fine, gayly painted sled. When they were about
half-way to Redtop Hill, a girl came out of a
house and stood in the road, evidently waiting for
them to come up. -She had very red hair and a
freckled face, and her nose turned up. She wore
a calico dress, an old red and green shawl, and a
yellow pumpkin hood; and she had a very queer-
looking sled, which was evidently of home manu-
facture. It was unpainted, and its runners had
. ....i. .,il been taken from a larger sled, and they
extended beyond it in a very funny way.
"If there is n't Sally Pringle exclaimed Mary
Jane Lawton. "I wonder if she thinks she is go-
ing with us Old Mrs. Meacham took her out of
the poor-house, and she does all sorts of work."
I 'm sorry for her; they say old Mrs. Meacham
is so cross to her said Roxy Dayton.
Oh, so cross! said Rosy Dayton..
"But she can't expect to 'sociate with us!"
said Mary Jane Lawton, with a toss of her head.
Goin' to Redtop Hill?" asked Sally Pringle,
as soon as they reached her. "So 'm I All
my work 's done up, and Mis' Meacham says I
can stay all the afternoon. I guess I '11 go with
you, 'cause I don't know many."
You have n't been invited," said Mary Jane,
with another toss of her head; and she crossed
the road away from Sally Pringle, beckoning and
drawing the others, who, I am sorry to say, all
followed her.
I guess I 'm as good as you cried Sallie
Pringle, her little freckled face growing almost as
red as her hair. And, anyhow, this sled that




Dave made for me 'll go better 'n any of yours;
so there "
"We would n't have such a funny-looking old
sled said Martha Stebbins.
Oh, my What red hair said Roxy Dayton.
Yes, and freckles said Rosy.
"I 'm not just alike, anyhow! Folks can tell
me apart! cried Sally Pringle, almost choking
with wrath.
The twins were silenced by this cutting retort.
Kitty said to Mary Jane, in a low tone :
She 's all alone; it would n't do us any harm
to let her come with us."



you speaking' to that Lawton girl; she would n't'a'
said I could come if it had n't been for you. You
're not a bit stuck-up, if you do live in the city,
are you ? You 're as pretty as paint, and your
clothes are handsome, though it 's a pity your
mother did n't have cloth enough to make your
dress a little mite longer, and if you had a round
comb 't would keep your hair out of your eyes. I
think those girls are mean and proud, don't you ? "
"They did n't intend to hurt your feelings;
they did n't think," said Kitty.
I don't care if my hair is red, and if the boys
do call house a-fire after me Dave is goin'

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"I never supposed you wantt her," said Mary
Jane to Kitty. You can come with us if you like! "
she said, in a very ungracious tone, to il,; Pringle,
without casting a glance in her direction.
Sally was walking sturdily along, on the other
side of the road, pulling her sled after her with
an occasional jerk which showed a disturbed state
of mind, and she gave no heed to Mary Jane's per-
Kitty suddenly caught sight of two tears drop-
ping from the tip of the little turned-up nose, and
her heart was moved.
She went across the road to Sally's side.
I think you are a good girl. I want you to go
with me 1 she said, taking Sally's arm in hers.
"Do you now, honest?" said Sally, l.rn.. a
pair of brimming eyes to Kitty's face. I heard

to fight 'em. Don't you know Dave ? His name
is n't Meacham, no more 'n mine, but folks call
him so; he's a boy that Mis' Meacham took,
just as she took me. He was town's poor, too, but
he's smart, Dave is. If you 'll never tell as
long as you live, I 'll tell you a secret. Dave is
going to be President, one of these days, and we 're
going to live in the White House, and I '11 ask you
to come and see us, but I wont ask any of those
girls- would you ?-'cause they said I was town's
poor and my hair was red. I don't care if my
hair is red,--but I would n't be twins, anyhow,
would you ? "
I think your hair is a pretty color: I saw some
just like it in a beautiful picture, once," said Kitty,
lifting admiringly the heavy, waving, red locks,
that were really beautiful.


"Did you, now, honest?" said Sally, her eyes
shining with delight. I'll take you on my sled.
The girls make fun of it now, but you 'd better
believe they wont pretty soon Dave made it, and it
will go! you 'llsee! Dave don't thinkmuch of girls'
sleds, anyhow, even if they are all painted up "
By this time they had reached Redtop Hill, which
presented a very gay appearance, being thronged
with boys and girls, some going up and some
down, and all changing places like the bits of
glass in a kaleidoscope.
Kitty and Sally were still walking together on
one side of the road, while Kitty's friends walked
on the other, but they came together when they
reached the top of the hill, and the girls were all

a sled there that could beat it. A great cheering
arose as Sally distanced all those who started with
her, and she came up the hill radiant with delight.
"You shall take it just as many times as you
want to, 'cause you've been real good to me!"
she said to Kitty.
But Kitty preferred to go down with her rather
than to take the sled by herself, so she sat in
front, and Sally sat behind and steered, and they
went down like the wind, and Kitty said it was the
best coast that she ever had in her life. She and
Sally formed a queer contrast in looks, and they
heard remarks made about it, and occasionally a
laugh would be raised at Sally's looks, and once a
small urchin called out "house a-fire "

;- .'z%-- ^ ;;

____\________ /_ I.


very polite and conciliatory in their manner to If it was n't for you, I 'd chase him," said Sally
Sally, who, however, received their attentions with to Kitty; "but there 'd be a great laughing and
considerable dignity and reserve, shouting, and may be you'd be ashamed. I don't
Shepercheduponhersled, boy-fashion, shoutedin care how much they laugh at me so long as you're
a commanding tone to everybody to get out of the not ashamed to go with me."
way, and away she went down the hill. The sled Kitty assured her that she was not; and, after
that Dave had made could go There was scarcely that, Sally was undisturbed.




She offered her sled to all Kitty's friends, even and I heard her say the other day that she did n't
to Mary Jane Lawton and the twins, who had know what she should do if anything should hap-
said her hair was red, and they were very glad to pen to them, because they just suited her eyes,
accept it, in spite of its looks. What with her and my purse with my three-dollar gold piece, and


*' '1i

/ i:
A I;I')l~


- .... ,'...


sled and Kitty's friendship, Sally was quite the
belle of the occasion, and no one there was hap-
pier. There was only one thing that was sad
about that afternoon to Kitty and Sally : it would
come to an end The darkness seemed to come
down sooner than it ever did before, and they had
to go home.
Mary Jane, and Roxyand Rosy Dayton, and Sally
went with Kitty to Mr. Spring the watch-maker's.
With one hand on the latch of Mr. Spring's
door, Kitty put her other hand into her pocket to
get Grandma's spectacles. 0, dear, no not into
her pocket, but into the place where her pocket
should have been !
The pocket was gone !
"Oh, what shall do ? What shall I do? I 've
lost my pocket! cried Kitty. I remember now
that it was half-ripped out when I put the dress on
this morning, and I put two pins in it, and meant
to sew it in before I came out, and then I forgot
it, and, oh, dear Grandma's spectacles were in it,

all the money I had besides, and my diary, with-
oh, a great many things written in it that I did n't
want anybody to see, and the baby's photograph,
and my lucky-bone that Jack told me never to
lose, and-oh dear! if I only had Grandma's
glasses i would n'tmind about the rest! That is-
not m-m-much "
And poor Kitty found it impossible to restrain
her tears.
"It is of no use to go back and look for it, of
course," said Mary Jane. "It 's too dark to find
it, and probably somebody picked it up."
"No, it is n't of any use," said Kitty, looking
regretfully back into the darkness, in the direction
of Redtop Hill. "I shall never see it again And
Grandma can't read a word !"
Mary Jane, and Roxy and Rosy Dayton tried to
comfort Kitty, as they walked homeward, but
Sally Pringle said never a word. She ran on
ahead of them, and went into her house without
stopping to say good-night.


4' S

jK1 K


"She did n't even say she was sorry you had
lost your pocket, after you were so kind to her,"
said Mary Jane.
Kitty did feel rather hurt at Sally's want of
sympathy, but, after all, it did not matter whether
anybody was sorry for her or not; sorrow would
not help the matter. It was almost as bad as los-
ing the baby Kitty did not know but that it was
fully as bad, for he was sure to be found, and the
pocket was almost sure not to be found. Besides,
she was younger when she lost the baby, and
there was more excuse for her carelessness.
And she had wished to behave particularly well
at Grandma's, because Jack had prophesied that
she would n't, and because she wanted to come
again soon. And Grandma, who was very neat
and particular, would think it was a dreadful thing
to pin in a pocket! And how mortified her
mother would be when she heard of it !
Grandma had company to tea and forgot to
ask about her spectacles. That was a great relief
to Kitty at first, but after a while she began to
think it would have been better if she had told of
her loss at first. She could scarcely eat a mouth-
ful, for dreading it, and she jumped every time
any one spoke to her, and Grandma asked her
if she did n't feel well.
At one moment, she wished Grandma's company
would go, that she might tell her about it, and
the next moment she wished they would stay for-
ever, so that she need never tell.
She did hope all the time that Grandma would
not speak of her spectacles until her guests had
gone, for she would have to tell what had become
of them, and they all would say, Who ever
heard of a girl so careless as to lose her pocket ? "
As soon as supper was over she tried to go out
in the kitchen to find Absalom; she thought it
would be a comfort to tell him all about it; but
Grandma's visitors would keep talking to her, and
Grandma praised her to them, and said she was
feet and hands to her, and eyes, too, sometimes" ;
and then Kitty trembled lest that should make her
think of her spectacles. But it did n't; and very
soon after that, the visitors took their leave. Kitty
tried to summon her courage to tell Grandma

then, but she went out of the room, and Kitty
went to find Absalom. Just as she stepped into
the kitchen there came a loud knock at the back
door. Absalom opened the door, and in stepped
Sally Pringle, followed by a boy, with clothes too
small for him, and feet and hands too large.
Sally held up, triumphantly, Kitty's lost pocket.
I went right after Dave, for I knew he could
find it," said Sally, "and we went right up to Red-
top Hill, and we took a lantern, and we hunted
and hunted; at last we saw one end of it sticking
out of a snow-bank. I 'm real glad we found it,
'cause you were good to me. I don't know as
anybody like you was ever so good to me before,
and it seemed as if I could n't stand it to see you
cry. We must go right home, now, 'cause Mis'
Meacham will be very cross; but I don't care so
long as we found your pocket !"
And then Kitty threw her arms around Sally
Pringle's neck, and kissed both her freckled cheeks.
I don't care what Mis' Meacham does, now!"
cried Sally as she ran off.
Kitty told Grandma all about it; she did n't
mind owning how careless she had been, now that
the pocket was found with everything safe in it,
even to the lucky-bone that Jack had given her,
and she wanted Grandma to know what a nice
girl Sally Pringle was. And Grandma was very
much interested, and said she was going to make
Sally's acquaintance. And the upshot of it was
that Grandma liked Sally so much that she made
a bargain with old Mrs. Meacham to let Sally
come and live with her and be hands and feet
and sometimes eyes for her, after Kitty had gone
And Sally improved so much under the kindly
influences at Grandma's, and was so faithful and
sweet-tempered and unselfish, that she soon be-
came like a daughter of the house.
And Grandma, who never did anything by
halves, discovered that Dave was an uncommonly
bright boy and sent him away to school.
Kitty finds it better fun than ever to go to
Grandma's now, because Sally is there.
But though so much good came of it, Kitty
never pinned her pocket in again.




----~.-~-~-7A r-_-- = ---- --
--- .--- :-



L ,-1---7= --.i: -% -. . .
--= .-. .. --_- =----- -. =- -- -- -w --_--.-2 -




EVERY one of us who has ever read anything
at all about Italy will remember that the Bay
of Naples is considered one of the loveliest pieces
of water in the world. It is not its beauty only
which attracts us; it is surrounded by interesting
and most curious places; and some of these we
shall now visit.
Although Naples is the most populous city of
Italy, it will not take us very long to see it as it
is, and that is all there is to see. Her people have
always lived for the present; they have never occu-
pied themselves with great works of art or architect-
ure for future ages; and the consequence is that,
unlike the other cities of Italy, it offers us few
interesting mementos of the past. Some of you
may like this, and may be much better satisfied to
see how the Neapolitan enjoys himself to-day than
to know how he used to do it a thousand years

ago. If that is the case, all you have to do is to
open your eyes and look about you. Naples is one
of the noisiest, liveliest cities in the world. The
people are very fond of the open air, and they are
in the streets all day, and nearly all night. The
shoemaker brings his bench out on the sidewalk
and sits there merrily mending his shoes. Women
come out in front of their houses and sew, take care
of their babies, and often make their bread and
cook their dinners in the open street. In the
streets all sorts and conditions of men, women,
and children work, play, buy, sell, walk, talk, sing,
or cry; here the carriages are driven furiously up
and down, the drivers cracking their whips and
shouting; here move about the little donkeys with
piles of vegetables or freshly cut grass upon their
backs, so that nothing but their heads and feet are
seen; and here are to be found noise enough and
dirt enough to make some people very soon satis-
fied with their walks through the streets of Naples.
The greatest attraction of Naples is its famous
museum, which contains more valuable sculptures


- K... *I*'LlI

5I I



and works of art, and more rare and curious things
than we could look at in a week. There is nothing
in it, however, which will interest us so much as
the bronze figures, the wall paintings, the orna-
ments, domestic utensils, and other objects, which
have been taken out of the ruins of
the buried cities of Pompeii and Her- --
culaneum. The collection of these
things is immense, for nearly every- -
thing that has been dug from the ruins I
since the excavations began has been I--
brought to this museum. Some of
the bronze statues are wonderfully -
beautiful and life-like; and such fig- ''1
ures as the "Narcissus from Pom-
peii or the Reposing Mercury from
Herculaneum have seldom been sur- .'
passed by sculptors of any age. There .
are many rooms filled with things that
give us a good idea of how the Pom-
peiians used to live. Here are pots,
kettles, pans, knives, saws, hammers,
and nearly every kind of domestic
utensil, and all sorts of tools. There
is even a very complete set of instru-
ments used by a dentist. In one of
the cases is a bronze bell with its cord
hanging outside, by which, if we
choose, we may produce the same
tinkle which used to summon some
Pompeiian servant to her mistress.
Little furnaces, bath-tubs, money-
chests, and hundreds and hundreds
of other articles, some of which look
as if quite good enough for us to use,
meet our eyes at every turn. In an-
other room there are many cases con-
taining articles of food which have
been taken from the houses of Pom-
peii. The loaves of bread, the beans,
the wheat, and many other articles,

are much shrunken and discolored, but the eggs look
just as white and natural as when they were boiled,
eighteen centuries ago.
The sight of all these things makes us anxious
to see the city that was so long buried out of sight
of the world, and only brought to light again about
a hundred years ago. A short ride by railway
takes us from Naples to Pompeii, and, after being
furnished with guides, we set out to explore this
silent little city, whose citizens have not walked
its streets since the year 79 A. D.
This unfortunate place, which, as you all know,
was entirely overwhelmed and covered up by aterri-
ble shower of ashes during an eruption of Vesuvius,
at the base of which it lies, is now in great part un-
covered and open to view. The excavations which
have been made at different times since 1748 have
laid bare a great many of the streets, houses, tem-
ples, and public buildings. All the roofs, however,
with the exception of that belonging to one small
edifice, are gone, having been burned or crushed in

T---EET N$E.- -




I I ,






by the hot ashes. We shall find, however, the
lower parts and the courts of nearly all the houses
still standing, and many of them in good condition.
The first thing which excites our surprise is the
extreme narrowness of the streets. They all are
well paved with large stones, and many of them


-~7-- tr-i -:-

-- :-.- --- 5 -

'.. . -~ i, . .
.. -l.n , I, I i
.balctly luoul
enough be-
tween for two chariots or narrow wagons to pass
each other. Here and there are high stepping-
stones, by which the Pompeiians crossed the streets
in rainy weather, when there must have been a
great deal of running water in these narrow ro oad-
ways. Everywhere we see the ruts which the
wheels have worn in the hard stones.
There are remains of a great many private
houses; and some of these which belonged to rich
people have their walls handsomely ornamented
with paintings, some of them quite bright and dis-
tinct, considering the long time that has elapsed
since they were made. There are also a great many
shops, all of them very small, and in some of these
still remain the marble counters with the jars that
held the wines and other things which were there
for sale. In a bakery there remain some ovens,
and large stone mills worked by hand-power or by

donkeys. Along street after street we go, and
into house after house. We enter large baths
with great marble tanks and arrangements for
steam heating. We visit temples, one of which,
the temple of Isis, bears an inscription stating
that, having been greatly injured by an earthquake
in the year 63,
it was restored
at the sole ex-
Spense of a boy
six years old,
S named N. Po-
pidius Celsi-
nus. Thereare
two theaters
and a great am-
phitheater, or
outdoor circus,
- - besides an ex-
_: : tensive Forum,
.. .: .' .-. orplaceforpub-
'- lic meetings.
SThe more we
S walk through
S.--'I '' these quiet and
.. deserted streets,
-- --- and into these
'---' : desolatehouses,

seem to us the
eighteen cent
------A--- _uries that have
passed since
any one lived
S-. i i .. i ... !.. believe that it has
I.,i. I, ., i I.. ,,11.i vere turned, these
.n. . '".' !'. '! .. .. i i and out of these
slaup,. hi smuii plaA.s h~l~i Are inscriptions on
the walls calling on the citizens to vote for such
and such a person for a public office.
A building has been erected as a museum, and
in this are preserved plaster casts of some of the
people who perished in the eruption. These
people were covered up by the fine ashes just
where they fell, and in the positions in which they
died. These ashes hardened, and although the
bodies, with the exception of a few bones, entirely
disappeared in the course of ages, the hollow
places left in the ashes were exactly the shape of
the forms and features of the persons w ho had been
there. An ingenious Italian conceived the idea
of boring into these hollow molds and filling them
up with liquid plaster of Paris. When this be-
came dry and hard, the ashes were removed, and
there were the plaster images of the persons who
had been overtaken and destroyed before they
could escape from that terrible storm of hot ashes,


which came down in quantities sufficient to cover
a whole city from sight. In some of these figures
the features are very distinct, .and we can even
distinguish the texture of their clothes and the
rings upon their fingers. There are eight of these
figures-men, women, and girls, besides the
cast of a large dog. To stand and look upon the
exact representation of these poor creatures who
perished here seems still more to shorten the time
between the present and the days when Pompeii
was a lively, bustling city. Could this poor man
with the leather belt around his waist, or this
young girl with so peaceful an expression, have
fallen down and died in these positions just forty-
six years after the death of Christ ?
We may walk until we are tired and we can not
in one visit properly see all that is interesting in
the excavated portions of Pompeii, and there is so
much of the little city yet covered up, that, if the
work of excavation goes on at the present rate,
it will be about seventy years before the whole
of Pompeii is laid open to the light. Men are kept
steadily at work clearing out the ruins, and it
may be that we are fortunate enough to be the
first visitors to see some little room with painted

It is the most natural thing in the world, after
we have explored this ruined city, to desire to
visit the volcano which ruined it. There it stands,
the same old Vesuvius, just as able to cover up
towns and villages with rivers of lava and clouds
of ashes as it ever was. Fortunately it does not
often choose to do so, and it is on the good-natured
laziness of their mountain that the people who live
in the plains all about it, and even on its sides,
depend for their lives and safety. There are few
parts of the world more thickly settled than the
country about Vesuvius.
The ascent of the mountain can be best made
from Naples because we can go nearly all the way
by railroad. Vesuvius is not always the same height,
as the great cone of ashes that forms its summit
varies somewhat before and after eruptions. It is
S I.....-. i about four thousand feet high, although
a great eruption in 1872 is said to have knocked
off a great deal of its top. At present it is steadily
increasing, because, although there have been no
great eruptions lately, the crater is constantly
working, and throwing out stones and ashes. Still
there is no danger if we are careful, and we shall
go up and see what the crater of a real live vol-


/' .
II N -c --- ; ~ ~ l
-~ .~ I .7 Uk>,1,

* -*~--C-


f V~.,

walls, or some jar, or piece of sculpture from cano looks like. The last part of our trip is made
which the ashes and earth have just been removed, on what is called a funicular railway, which runs
and which the eye of man has not seen since the nearly to the top of the great central cone, fifteen
first century of the Christian era. hundred feet high, on which the cars are drawn




up by wire ropes. This railway, however, does
not take us quite all the way, and there are
some hundred feet of loose ashes up which we
must walk before we reach the top. The way

:I I-
- '1

from below, is enough to make some people nerv-
ous; but unless we go too near the edge, or
expose ourselves to the fumes of the sulphurous
gas which arises from the depths below, there is

I I l ,
._ . *. : _.


.. .'-i'_ ',, ._ ,II -, .

.. .-
,' -.a "': :,- :" ,, g

',.l' i' I ., I,,, .
II ll, 11' I



is very steep, we sometimes sink into the ashes
nearly up to our knees, and altogether it is a
piece of very tough work. But if any of us feel
unequal to it, we can be taken up in chairs, each
borne by two stout porters. We can not be sure
what we are going to see when we are at the sum-
mit; smoke and vapor are constantly arising from
the crater, and sometimes the wind blows this
toward us, and makes it impossible to see into the
great abyss; but at other times we may approach
quite near, and see the smoke and steam rising
from below, while stones and masses of lava are
thrown into the air, and fall back into the crater.
The ground in some places is so hot that eggs
may be roasted by simply allowing them to lie
upon it. If we are not careful, some of us will
have the soles of our shoes badly burned by walk-
ing over these hot places. The sight of this great
crater always burning, and smoking, and seething,
and sometimes throwing the light of great fires up

no particular danger on the top of Vesuvius. If
the weather is fine, we get a grand view of the bay
and the country around about; and even if we have
been frightened or tired, or have to get a pair of
new shoes when we go down the mountain, the fact
that we have looked into the crater of an active
volcano is something that we shall always remem-
ber with satisfaction.
As long as we are anywhere on the Bay of Naples
we need never expect to be rid of Vesuvius; and,
indeed, we need not wish to, for by day and night
it is one of the finest features of the landscape.
The people in Naples and all the surrounding
country justly consider it the greatest attraction
to travelers. Every hotel-keeper, no matter how
little his house is, or where it is situated, has a
picture made of it with Vesuvius smoking away in
the background. The poor mountain is thus moved
about from place to place, without any regard to
its own convenience, in order that tourists may



know that, if they come to any one of these hotels,
they may always have a good view of a grand
One of our excursions will be a drive along the
eastern shore of the bay to the little town of Sor-
rento, and we shall find the road over which we go
one of the most beautiful, if not the most beauti-
ful, that we have ever seen in our lives. On one
side are the mountains and hills covered with
orange and lemon groves, olive and pomegranate
trees, and vineyards; and on the other, the beau-
tiful blue waters of the bay, with its distant islands
raising their misty purple outlines against the
cloudless sky. Sorrento, the home of wood-carv-
ing, as many of you may know, was a favorite
summer resort of the ancients, and the old Romans
used to come here for sea-bathing. Near by are
the rocks on which, according to ancient tradition,
the sirens used to sit and sing for the sole purpose,
so far as we have been able to discover, of exciting
the attention of the sailors on passing ships, and
attracting them to the rocks where they might be
wrecked. We can get boats and row beneath these
very rocks, but never a siren shall we see, although
there are great caves into which the water flows and
into the gloomy and solemn depths of which we
can row for quite a long distance, and imagine, if we
please, that the sirens are hiding behind the rocks
in the dark corners, but knowing very well that, as
we have heard about their tricks and their manners,
it will be of no use for them to sing their songs to
us. Even now the people of Sorrento have fancies
of this sort, and many believe that the ravines near
the town are inhabited by dwarfs. There are a
great many interesting and pleasant things about
Sorrento; but, after all, the object which we shall
look at the most and find the most enjoyable is
our friend Vesuvius. The great volcano is many
miles from us now, but as long as we are in
this bay we can not avoid it. All day it sends
up its beautiful curling column of steam, which
rises high into the air and spreads out like a
great white tree against the sky, while at night
this high canopy of vapors is lighted at intervals to
a rosy brightness by flashes of fire from the crater
below. And from this point of view the volcano
shows us at night another grand sight. Some dis-
tance below the summit four streams of lava
have broken out, and, after running some distance
down the mountain-side, flow again into the
ground and disappear. At night we can see that
these lava streams are red-hot, and, viewed from
afar, they look like four great rivers of fire. For
months these have been steadily :- n., and after
a time they will disappear, and the mountain will
set itself to work to devise some other kind of fire-
works with which to light up the nightly scene.

From Sorrento we shall take a little steamer to
the island of Capri, in the most southern part
of the bay. The town has no wharves at which
a steamboat can lie, and so we take small boats
and row out to wait for the steamboat which
comes from Naples and stops here. The poet
Tasso was born in Sorrento, and as we row
along the river front of the town, the greater
part of which is perched upon rocks high above
the water, we shall float directly over his house, or
rather the foundations of it, which we can see a
few feet below us through the clear, transparent
water. Once the town extended much farther
into the bay than it does now; year by year the
water encroached upon the land, and now there
are but few places at the foot of the cliffs where
there is room for houses. While we are waiting
here, several boats filled with Italian boys, some of
them verylittle fellows, row out to us and sing songs
and choruses for our benefit, hoping for coppers, in
return. The little fellows sing with great vivacity,
keeping admirable time and clapping their hands
and wagging their heads, as if they were fired with
the spirit of their songs. They are not at all like
sirens, but-they will charm some money from us;
and when we seem to have had enough music,
they will offer to dive into the water after copper
coins, each wrapped in a piece of white paper so
that they can see it as it sinks. While engaged in
this sport, the steamboat comes up, the steps are
let down, we climb on board, and are off for Capri.
This island has longbeen noted for two things,-
its Blue Grotto and its pretty girls. We shall
have to take some trouble to see the first, but the
latter will spare themselves no trouble to see us, as
we shall presently find. It is not often that any
one examines an island so thoroughly as to go
under it, over it, and around it, but this we shall
do at Capri, and we shall begin by going under it.
It is only when the weather is fine and the sea
is smooth that the celebrated Blue Grotto can be
visited, and as everybody who goes to the island
desires to see this freak of Nature, the steamboat,
when the weather is favorable, proceeds directly to
the grotto. We steam for a mile or two along the
edge of the island, which appears like a great
mountain-top rising out of the water, and come to
a stop near a rocky precipice. At the foot of this
we see a little hole, about a yard high, and some-
what wider. Near by lie a number of small boats,
each rowed by one man, and as soon as our steam-
boat nears the place, these boats are pulled toward
us with all the power of their oarsmen, jostling
and banging against each other, while the men
shout and scold as each endeavors to be the first to
reach the steamboat. In these boats we are to
enter the grotto, three of us in each, that being




the greatest number they are allowed to carry.
When we go down the side and step into the boats,
we are told that we must all lie down flat in the
bottom, for, if our heads or shoulders are above
the sides of the boat, they may get an awkward
knock in going through the hole in the rock, which
is the only entrance to the grotto. As one boat
after another pushes off from the steamer, the
girls will probably nestle down very closely, but
I think most of the boys will keep their faces
turned upwards, and at least one eye open to see


what is going to happen. The water of the bay
seemed quite smooth when we were on the steam-
boat, but there is some wind, and we now find
that the waves are running tolerably high against
the rocky precipice before us, and dashing in and
out of the hole which we are to enter. As we ap-
proach this opening the first boat is pulled rapidly
toward it, but a wave which has just gone in now
comes rolling out, driving the boat back, and

banging it against the others. Some of us are
frightened, and wish we were safe again on the
steamboat, but there is no danger; these boatmen
are very skillful, and if one of them were to allow
his boat to upset, he would lose his reputation for-
ever. Again the boat is pulled forward, this time
with an in-going wave, and, as it reaches the
entrance, the man jerks in his oars, seizes the roof
and sides of the aperture with his hands, and with
much dexterity and strength shoots his boat into
the grotto. One after another, each boat enters,
and as we all sit up and look about us, we
find ourselves in a strange and wonderful
.1....: ,1 .: .' while to be frightened
,I..1 i..:rl ,I Iliii. i., be in such a grand sea-
.,.. i: i i i. floor is a wide expanse
.. i I. i a.l,. ,I.I- not rough like the bay
.. ,r ,.i.: 1... :,,,i. agitated by the waves at
ii- ...II ..r rii. cave, and every ripple
ri.. I:. .1 light. Each boat, as it
,,, .:: i ... rl,. water, has an edging of
[ I*, I,.... i.. I,.,1 which drips and falls from
1.. .. I.. they are raised. The
... ... ,nr. 1 i, .. and over all is a domed
-...I .:.r .-..I. I i is twinkles and sparkles
,rl, L.I.1 i, 1, 1.1 It is indeed, what it has
1... .. .I 1.1,.1 grotto. W e naturally
..I., ... 1I.,s blue light comes from.
i .. ..[.. ings in the roof above,
and as we look over
toward the dark lit-
S tie hole by which we
came in, we see that
little light can enter
There. The fact is
-- that the opening
S- into the cave under
-_-- the water is much
larger than it is
above, and the
bright sunlight that
.- i"- goes down into the
S- water on the outside
-2 -, .-=~--.,.- ,. --
<-- comes up through
it into the grotto.
It goes down like
the golden sunlight
it is, and it comes
up into the grotto more like moonlight, but blue,
sparkling, and brilliant. Everything about us seems
weird and strange. One of the men, without a coat,
stands up in his boat, and the blue light playing on
the under part of his white shirt-sleeves curiously
illuminates him. At the far end of the grotto is a
little ledge, the only place where it is possible to
land, and on this stands a man in thin cotton
clothes who offers for a small sum of money to






dive into the water. In a few moments down he
goes, and we see him, a great silvery mass, sink
far below us. Soon he comes up again, ready
to repeat the performance as often as he is paid
for it.
The most beautiful description of the Blue
Grotto is to be found in The Improvisatore," a
story by Hans Christian Andersen, in which his
rare imagination has thrown into this grotto and
over its walls and waters, a fairy-like light that is
more beautiful perhaps than the blue light that
comes up from the sea. There are persons who
have read his account, and the beautiful story of
the blind girl and her lover, who have afterward
been disappointed when they saw the grotto for
themselves; but it is said that if such persons
should come a second time the beauty of the place
would grow upon them, and they would see the
fairy-like scene that they have read about. I never
visited the grotto the second time.
After a while, our boats go out rather more easily
than they came in, and we are soon on the steam-
boat, and off for the Marina Grande, or principal
landing-place of the island of Capri. There is no
wharf, and we are taken off in small boats. The
town of Capri is not here ; it is high up on the steep
hills above us; but there are some houses and one
or two hotels scattered about near the water, and
very soon the pretty girls come cown to meet us,
and right glad they are to see us. Some of
them are as young as fourteen, and some are as
old as twenty; many of them are really quite
handsome, with regular features, large, dark eyes,
and that clear, lightly-browned complexion which
some people think more beautiful than white.
They are plainly, but some of them prettily,
dressed, and all have bare heads and bare feet.
Nearly all of them have strings of coral, which
they are not slow to urge us to buy, and we find
that it is because they hope to make a little money
byselling these, that these pretty girls are so glad to
see us. Others are leading little donkeys on which
we may ride to the town above. But we shall notice
that not one of them is begging. The people of
this island are very industrious, and very inde-
Capri was named by the Romans Caprem, the
island of goats, but I do not know whether this
name was given because there were a good many
goats here, or because it was a good place for goats.
The latter would have been an excellent reason, for
the island is all "up hill and down dale." Until
very recently there were no roads upon the island
for carriages or wheeled vehicles, and if people
did not walk up and down the steep paths which
led everywhere, they rode upon donkeys or horses;
but lately roads have been constructed which wind

backward and forward along the hill-sides and
precipices to the two small towns upon the island,
Capri and Anacapri. Some of us will take pony
carriages up the road to Capri; others will walk;
and others will ride donkeys, each attended by a
woman or a girl, who steers the little beast by the
tail, or encourages it with a switch. The island
is about half a mile high, and after we reach the
little town and have had our dinner we prepare
to scatter ourselves over its surface.
We shall find this island one of the finest places
for walks, rambles, and scrambles that we have yet
seen. After we reach the town, there is no more
carriage road, and the principal thoroughfares
which lead through the little fields and gardens,
and by occasional scattered houses, are about five
feet wide, and paved with small round cobble-
stones. These are not very pleasant to walk on,
but we shall soon discover that if these roads were
smooth, we should not be able to go up and down
them at all. We shall see here very funny little
fields of grain, bearm-. I.1 ..ther crops. Some of
the wheat-fields are ...., I. bigger than the floor
of a large room in one of our dwelling-houses.
The people are poor, and they cultivate every spot
of land on which anything useful will grow. A
half-hour's walk above the town will take us to
some high points from which we get beautiful
views of the Mediterranean to the south, and the
Bay of Naples to the north, while away to the west
we can see the island of Ischia, looking so peace-
ful under the soft blue sky that no one could im-
agine that only two years ago it had been visited
by a terrible earthquake, in which hundreds of
people perished. From one of the high places to
which we can walk, we look down the precipitous
rocks to the sea, far below us; and out in the water,
entirely disconnected with the land, we see three
great pointed masses of rock, some little distance
from the shore. On the very top of one of these
is a small house or tower built there by the
ancient Romans. What it was intended for, on
this almost inaccessible place, is not exactly known,
but it is believed that it was built for a tomb. I
suppose some of you think that it is a great deal
harder to rid ourselves of the Romans than of Vesu-
vius, but it can not be helped; we shall find that
they have been wherever we wish to go. On
the land side of this promontory, we look down
into a rocky valley called the Vale of Matrimony,
near the bottom of which is a great natural arch,
or bridge of rock. The name of this vale is a
corruption of a name the Romans gave it, and it
does not look as if it had anything to do with
matrimony. Another of our walks will take us to
a very high point, on which are some ruins of the
Villa of Tiberius, the Roman Emperor. This



gentleman, having involved himself in a great
deal of trouble at home, concluded to retire to
this rocky island, where he would be safe from his
enemies, and here he lived until his death in the
year 37 A. D. Capri must have been a very different
place then as far as the manners and customs of its
inhabitants are concerned. The Emperor built
no less than twelve handsome villas in various parts
of the island, and made all necessary arrangements
to enjoy himself as much as possible. The villa
which we are visiting was one of the largest, and
the remains of vaulted chambers and corridors
show that it must have been a very fine building.
A short distance below it, is the top of a precipice,
from which, tradition says, Tiberius used to have
those persons whom he had condemned to death
thrown down into the sea. This was not an un-
usual method of execution with the Romans, and
if Tiberius really adopted it in this place, his vic-
tims musthave metwith a certain and speedy death.
If any of us really desire to see a hermit, we can
now be gratified, for one of that profession has
his dwelling here. He probably does live here
all alone, but he does not look like our ordinary
ideal of a hermit. He will be glad to receive
some coppers, and also to have us write our
autographs in a book which he keeps for the
purpose. A hermit autograph-collector in the
ruined villa of a Roman Emperor, on the top of a
mountainous island in the Mediterranean, is some-
thing we did not expect to meet with on our
Wherever we go in our walks about the island
we shall meet with the pretty girls. They are
always at work, but, unfortunately, they are some-
times engaged in much harder labor than that of
selling coral or leading donkeys. Often we may
see lines of girls, who, if nicely dressed, and with
shoes and stockings on, would do credit in appear-
ance to any boarding-school, each carrying on her
head a wooden tray containing stones or mortar
for masons who are building a house or wall; and
at any time they may be seen going up and down
the steep paths of the island carrying heavy
loads upon their heads. As I said before, the
people here are generally poor, and everybody
who can, old and young, must work. Why there
are so few boys in comparison with the girls, I do
not know. It may be that the boys go away to
other parts of the world where they can find work
that will pay them better than anything on their
native island.
I said, when we first came here, that we should
go under, over, and around this island; and when
we have rambled, through the valleys and over

the hills, and have paid a visit to Anacapri, the
other little town, we may say that we have been
over it; when we visited the Blue Grotto, we
went under it; and now we shall go around it, by
taking boats and making what is called the
giro, or circuit of the island. This trip will re-
quire several hours, and we shAll see that the
island of Capri is rather rich in grottoes, and that
the monotony of such water caverns is varied by
having them of different colors. One of them is
the White Grotto, which would doubtlessbe consid-
ered very pretty, if it were the only one here. But
afterward we shall see the Green Grotto, which is
very beautiful indeed, in which the water and the
rocks are of a fine green hue. When we reach the
three high rocks, which we saw from above, we
shall see that the central one is pierced by an
arched opening, through which the boatman will
row our boats.
And now, having spent as much time on this
charming island as we think we can spare, we
pack up the valises and other light baggage which
we brought with us, and make everything ready to
leave the next morning. But when the next
morning comes we do not leave. The island of
Capri is not a place to which you can come when
you choose and from which you can depart when
you feel like it. The day is fine, the sun is
bright, and the sky is blue ; but there is a strong
wind blowing, and the bay is full of waves. They
are not very high waves, to be sure, but .. 1..1
which has the slightest resemblance to rough
weather is sufficient to make the captains of the
small steamers which ply between Naples and
Capri decide to suspend operations until the bay is
smooth again. If people are disappointed and
have to stay where they do not wish to stay, they
must blame the winds, and not the captains, who,
if told that an American or English sailor would
think nothing of the little gales that are sufficient
to keep them at their anchorage, would probably
shrug their shoulders and say that they were not
American or English sailors, and were very glad
of it.
Sometimes visitors are kept at Capri a week
waiting for a steamer. It is possible to go over
to Sorrento in a fishing boat, but the roughest
part of the bay lies between us and the home of
the wood-carvers, and it is not over such water
and in little boats that I propose to personally
conduct my young friends. So we may congratu-
late ourselves that if we have to be imprisoned for
a time on an island, there is no pleasanter one for
the purpose than Capri, and shall therefore con-
tentedly wait to see what happens next.







was walking through
a side street in one
of our large cities, I
heard these words
ringing out from a
room so crowded with
L people that I could but
just see the auction-
eer's face and uplifted
hammer above the heads of the crowd.
"Going! Going! Go-ing! Gone!" and
down came the hammer with a sharp rap.
I do not know how or why it was, but the words
struck me with a new force and significance. I
had heard them hundreds of times before, with
only a sense of amusement. This time they
sounded solemn.
Going! Going! Gone!"
"That is the way it is with life," I said to my-
self; -"' with time."

This world is a sort of auction-room; we do not
know that we are buyers; we are, in fact, more like
beggars; we have brought no money to exchange
for precious minutes, hours, days, or years; they
are given to us. There is no calling out of terms,
no noisy auctioneer, no hammer; but, neverthe-
less, the time is going going gone "
The more I thought of it, the more solemn
did the words sound, and the more did they seem
to me a good motto to remind one of the value
of time.
When we are young we think old people are
preaching and prosing when they say so much
about it,- when they declare so often that days,
weeks, even years, are short. I can remember
when a holiday, a whole day long, appeared to me
an almost inexhaustible play-spell; when one after-
noon, even, seemed an endless round of pleasure,
and the week that was to come seemed longer
than does a whole year now.
One needs to live many years before one learns
how little time there is in a year,-how little, in-
deed, there will be even in the longest possible




life,- how many things one will still be obliged
to leave undone.
But there is one thing, boys and girls, that
you can realize, if you will try if you will stop
and think about it a little; and that is, how fast
and how steadily the present time is slipping away.
However long life may seem to you, as you look
forward to the whole of it, the present hour has
only sixty minutes, and minute by minute, second
by second, it is going! going gone If you
gather nothing from it as it passes, it is gone "
forever. Nothing is so utterly, hopelessly lost as
"lost time." It makes me unhappy when I look
back and see how much time I have wasted; how
much I might have learned and done if I had but
understood how short is the longest hour.
All the men and women who have made the
world better, happier, or wiser for their having lived
in it, have done so by working diligently and persist-
ently. Yet, I am certain that not even one of these,
when "looking backward from his manhood's
prime, saw not the specter of his mis-spent time."
Now, don't suppose I am so foolish as to think
that all the preaching in the world can make any-
thing look to young eyes as it looks to old eyes;
not a bit of it.
But think about it a little; don't let time slip away
by the minute, hour, day, without getting some-
thing out of it! Look at the clock now and then,
and listen to the pendulum, saying of every min-
ute, as it flies,-" Going! going! gone! "


GOING going! gone Is this an auction, here,
Where nobody bids, and nobody buys, and there
is no auctioneer?

No hammer, no crowd, no noise, no push of
women and men -
And yet the chance that is passing now will
never come back again!

Going going gone! Here is a morn of June,-
Dew, and fragrance, and color, and light, and
a million sounds a-tune.
Oh, look! Oh, listen! Be wise, and take this
wonderful thing,-
A jewel such as you will not find in the treas-
ury of a king !

Going! going! gone! What is next on the list?
An afternoon of purple and gold, fair as an
And large enough to hold all good things under
the sun.
Bid it in now, and crowd it full with lessons,
and work, and fun !

Going! going! gone Here is a year to be
A whole magnificent year held out to every lass
and lad!
Days, and weeks, and months Joys, and labors,
and pains !
Take it, spend it, buy with it, lend it, and pre-
sently count your gains.

Going going gone The largest lot comes last;
Here, with its infinite unknown wealth is offered
a life-time vast!
Out of it may be wrought the deeds of hero and
Come, bid! Come, bid! lest a brave bright
youth fade out to a useless age!

'!,-S 4 ; -- .. .......
. .. . P --- -- -

VOL. XIII.-18.





[A Historical Biograjky.]




THE story of George Washington's struggle
with the colt must belong to his older boyhood,
when he was at home on a vacation; for we have
seen that he had to have his pony led when he was
nine years old; and after his father's death, which
occurred when he was eleven, he went away to
school. When Augustine Washington died, he
divided his several estates among his children;
but his widow was to have the oversight of the
portions left to the younger children until they
should come of age. Lawrence Washington re-
ceived an estate called Hunting Creek, located near
a stream of the same name which flowed into the
Potomac; and Augustine, his brother, received the
old homestead near Bridge's Creek; the mother
and younger children continued to live near Fred-
Both Lawrence and Augustine Washington
married soon after their father's death, and as
there chanced to be a good school near Bridge's
Creek, George Washington now made his home
with his brother Augustine, staying with him till
he was nearly sixteen years old.
He was to be, like his father, a Virginian
planter; and I suppose that had something to do
with the kind of training which Mr. Williams, the
school-master at Bridge's Creek, gave him. At any
rate, it is easy to see what he studied. Most boys'
copy-books and exercise-books are early destroyed,
but it chances that those of George Washington
have been kept, and they are very interesting.
The handwriting in them is the first thing to be
noticed,-round, fair, and bold, the letters large
like the hand that formed them, and the lines
running straight and even. In the arithmetics
and book-keeping manuals which we study at
school, there are printed forms of receipts, bills,
and other ordinary business papers; but in Wash-
ington's school days, the teacher probably showed
the boys how to draw these up, and gave them,
also, copies of longer papers, like leases, deeds, and
wills. There were few lawyers in the colony, and
every gentleman was expected to know many,
forms of documents which in these days are left
to our lawyers.

Washington's exercise-books have many pages
of these forms, written out carefully by the boy.
Sometimes he made ornamental letters such as
clerks were wont to use in drawing up such papers.
This was not merely exercise in penmanship; it
was practice work in all that careful keeping of
accounts and those business methods which were
sure to be needed by one who had to manage a great
plantation. George Washington was to manage
something greater, though he did not then know it;
and the habits which he formed at this time were
of inestimable value to him in his manhood.
The manuscript book which contains these ex-
ercises has also a list of a hundred and ten Rules
of Civility and Decent Behavior in Company and
Conversation." They were probably not made
up by the boy, but copied from some book or
taken down from the lips of his mother or teacher.
They sound rather stiff to us, and we should be
likely to think the boy a prig who attempted to be
governed by them; but it was a common thing in
those days to set such rules before children, and
George Washington, with his liking for regular,
orderly ways -which is evident in his handwrit-
ing-probably used the rules and perhaps com-
mitted them to memory, to secure an even temper
and self-control. Here are a few of them :

"Every action in company ought to be with
some sign of respect to those present.
:"When you meet with one of greater quality
than yourself, stop and retire, especially if it be at
a door or any strait place, to give way for him to
They that are in dignity or in office have in
all places precedency; but whilst they are young,
they ought to respect those that are their equals
in birth or other qualities, though they have no
public charge.
Strive not with your superiors in argument,
but always submit your judgment to others with
Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the
disparagement of any.
Take all admonitions thankfully, in what time
or place soever given; but afterwards, not being
culpable, take a time or place convenient to let
him know it that gave them.
Think before you speak; pronounce not im-




perfectly, nor bring out your words too hastily,
but orderly and distinctly.
"Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust.
Make no show of taking great delight in your
victuals; feed not with greediness; cut your bread
with a knife; lean not on the table; neither find
fault with what you eat.
Be not angry at table, whatever happens, and if
you have reason to be so, show it not; put on a cheer-
ful countenance, especially if there be strangers,
for good humor makes one dish of meat a feast.
Let your recreations be manful, not sinful.
Labor to keep alive in your breast that little
spark of celestial fire called conscience."

These are not unwise rules; they touch on
things great and small. The difficulty with most
boys would be to follow a hundred and ten of
them. They serve, however, to show what was
the standard of good manners and morals among
those who had the training of George Washington.
But, after all, the best of rules would have done
little with poor stuff; it was because this boy had
a manly and honorable spirit that he could be
trained in manly and honorable ways. He was a
passionate but not a vicious boy, and so, since his
passion was kept under control, he was all the
stronger for it. The boy that could throw a stone
across the Rappahannock was taught to be gentle,
and not violent; the tamer of the blooded sorrel
colt controlled himself, and that was the reason he
could control his horse.

With all his strength and agility, George Wash-
ington was a generous and fair-minded boy;
otherwise he would not have been chosen, as he
often was, to settle the disputes of his companions.
He was a natural leader. In his boyhood there
was plenty of talk of war. What is known as
King George's War had just broken out between
the English and the French; and there were al-
ways stories of fights with the Indians in the back
settlements. It was natural, therefore, that boys
should play at fighting, and George Washington
had his small military company, which he drilled
and maneuvered.
Besides, his brother Lawrence had been a sol-
dier, and he must have heard many tales of war
when he visited him. Thus it came about that he
was for throwing his books aside and entering His
Majesty's service. He was, however, too young
for the army he was only fifteen but Lawrence
Washington encouraged him, and as he knew
many officers in the navy, he had no difficulty in
obtaining for his young brother a warrant as
midshipman in the navy.
It is said that the young middy's luggage was

on board a man-of-war anchored in the Potomac,
when Madam Washington, who had all along been
reluctant to have her son go to sea, now declared
finally that she could not give her consent to the
scheme. He was still young and at school ; per-
haps, also, this Virginian lady, living in a country
where the people were not much used to the sea,
looked with concern at a profession which would
take her oldest boy into all the perils of the ocean.
The influence which :,i .l1 decided her to refuse
her consent is said to have been this letter, which
she received from her brother, then in England:
I understand that you are advised, and have some thoughts of
putting your son George to sea. I think he had bette be putappren-
tice to a tinker, for a common sailor before the mast has by no means
the common liberty of the subject; for they will press him from a ship
where he has fifty shillings a month, and make him take twenty-
three, and cut and slash, and use him like a negro, or rather like a
dog. And, as to any considerable preferment in the navy, it is not
to be expected, as there are always so many gaping for it here who
have interest, and he has none. And if he should get to be master
of a Virginia ship (which it is very difficult to do), a planter that has
three or four hundred acres of land, and three or four slaves, if he be
industrious, may live more comfortably, and leave his family in
better bread, than such a master ofa ship can."

It seems possible from this letter that the plan was
to put George into the navy that he might come
to command a merchant ship; but however that
may be, the plan was given up, and the boy went
back to school for another year. During that time
he applied himself especially to the study of sur-
veying. In a country of great estates, and with a
new, almost unexplored territory coming into the
hands of planters, surveying was a very important
occupation. George Washington, with his love
of exactness and regularity, his orderly ways and
his liking for outdoor life, was greatly attracted by
the art. Five or six years must elapse before he
could come into possession of the property which
his father had left him ; his mother was living on
it and managing it. Meanwhile, the work of sur-
veying land would give him plenty of occupation,
and bring him in money; so he studied geometry
and trigonometry ; he made calculations, and he
surveyed all the fields about the school-house,
plotting them and setting down everything with
great exactness.
I wonder if his sudden diligence in study and
outdoor work was due at all to an affair which
happened about this time. He was a tall, large-
limbed, shy boy of fifteen when he fell in love with
a girl whom he seems to have met when living
with his brother Augustine. He calls her, in one
of his letters afterward, a "lowland beauty," and
tradition makes her to have been a Miss Grimes,
who later married, and was the mother of one of
the young soldiers who served under Washington
in the War for Independence. Whatever may have
been the exact reason that his love affair did not


prosper -whether he was too shy to make his
mind known, or so silent as not to show himself to
advantage, or so discreet with grave demeanor as
to hold himself too long in reserve, it is impos-
sible now to say; but I suspect that one effect was
to make him work the harder. Sensible people
do not expect boys of fifteen to be playing the
lover; and George Washington was old for his
years, and not likely to appear like a spooney.



ALTHOUGH, after his father's death, George
Washington went to live with his brother Augustine
for the sake of going to Mr. Williams's school, he
was especially under the care of his eldest brother.
Lawrence Washington, like other oldest sons of
Virginia planters, was sent to England to be edu-
cated. After his return to America, there was war
between England and Spain, and Admiral Vernon
of the English navy captured one of the Spanish
towns in the West Indies. The people in the
American colonies looked upon the West Indies
somewhat differently from the way in which we
regard them at present. Not only were some of
the islands on the map of America, but like the
colonies, they were actually a part of the British
possessions. A brisk trade was kept up between
them and the mainland; and indeed, the Bermudas
were once within the bounds of Virginia.
So, when Admiral Vernon needed reinforce-
ments, he very naturally looked to the colonies
close at hand. A regiment was to be raised and
sent out to Jamaica as part of the British forces.
Lawrence Washington, who was a spirited young
fellow, obtained a commission as captain in a
company of this regiment, and went to the West
Indies, where he fought bravely in the engage-
ments which followed. When the war was over
he returned to Virginia, so in love with his new
profession that he determined to go to England,
with the regiment to which his company was at-
tached, and to continue as a soldier in His Majesty's
Just then there happened two events which
changed his plans and perhaps prevented him from
some day fighting against an army commanded
by his younger brother. He fell in love with Anne
Fairfax, and before they were married, his father
died. This left his mother alone with the care of
a young family, and made him also at once the
owner of a larger estate. His father, as I have said,
bequeathed to him Hunting Creek, and there,
after his marriage, he went to live, as a planter,
like his father before him. For the time, at any

rate, he laid aside his sword, but he kept up his
friendship with officers of the army and the navy;
and out of admiration for the admiral under whom
he had served, he changed the name of his estate
from Hunting Creek to Mount Vernon.
Thehouse which Lawrence Washingtonbuiltwas
after the pattern of many Virginian houses of the
day,-two stories in height, with a porch running
along the front, but with its two chimneys, one at
each end, built inside instead of outside. Possibly
this was a notion which Lawrence Washington
brought with him from England ; perhaps he
did it to please his English bride. The site which
he chose was a pleasant one, upon a swelling ridge,
wooded in many places, and high above the Poto-
mac, which swept in great curves above and below,
almost as far as the eye could see. Beyond, on the
other side, were the Maryland fields and woods.
A few miles below Mount Vernon was another
plantation, named Belvoir, and it was here that
William Fairfax lived, whose daughter Anne had
married Lawrence Washington. Fairfax also had
been an officer in the English army, and at one
time had been governor of one of the Bahama
islands. Now he had settled in Virginia, where his
family had large landed possessions.
He was a man of education and wealth, and he
had been accustomed to plenty of society. He
had no mind to bury himself in the backwoods
of Virginia, and with his grown-up sons and
daughters about him, he made his house the cen-
ter of gayety. It was more richly furnished than
most of the houses of the Virginia planters. The
floors were covered with carpets, a great luxury
in those days; the rooms were lighted with wax
candles; and he had costly wines in his cellars.
Servants in livery moved about to wait on the
guests, and Virginia gentlemen and ladies flocked
to Belvoir. The master of the house was an offi-
cer of the King, for he was collector of customs for
the colony, and president of the governor's council.
British men-of-war sailed up the Potomac and
anchored in the stream, and the officers came
ashore to be entertained by the Honorable William
The nearness of Mount Vernon and the close
connection between the two families led to con-
stant passage between the places. The guests of
one were the guests of the other, and George
Washington, coming to visit his brother Lawrence,
was made at home at Belvoir also. He was a
reserved, shy, awkward schoolboy. He was only
fifteen when he was thrown into the gay society
there, but he was tall, large-limbed, and altogether
much older and graver than his years would seem
to indicate. He took his place among the men in
sports and hunting, and though he was silent and




not very lively in his manner, there was something
in his serious, strong face which made him a
favorite among the ladies.
He met at Belvoir William Fairfax's son, George
William, who had recently come home from Eng-
land, and was just married. He was six years
older than George Washington, but that did not
prevent them from striking up a warm friend-
ship, which continued through life. The young
bride had a sister with her, and this lively girl,
Miss Cary, teased and played with the big, over-
grown schoolboy. I do not believe he told her
what he wrote to one of


that he
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his time very pleasantly if all tl .... ... I .".1
young society had not kept him .-.." I :-
ing of his lowland beauty," and wishing himself
with her !
But his most notable friend was Thomas, sixth
Lord Fairfax, who was at this time staying at Bel-
voir.' He had been a brilliant young man, of uni-
versity education, an officer in a famous regiment,
and at home in the fashionable and literary world
of London. But he had suffered two terrible dis-
appointments. His mother and his grandmother,
when he was a boy, had so misused the property
which descended to him from the Fairfaxes that
when he came of age it had been largely lost.

I, later on, just as he was about to be married
ine lady, she discovered that she could have a
instead, and so broke the engagement and
v Lord Fairfax aside.
chanced that his mother had all this while an
sense property in Virginia, nearly a fifth of the
mnt State, which the good-natured King Charles
second had given to her. This was now Lord
ax's, and he had appointed his cousin, William
ax, his agent to look after it. So, when he found
ondon pitying him or smiling at him behind
ack, he left England to visit his American es-
That had occurred eight years before George
hington's visit to Belvoir. And now Lord Fair-
as back again, for his taste of Virginian life had
' ...... ..... i I I ,.- i. d determ ined to turn
.. .. ... i i.l I' nge into the wilderness


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He was at this time nearly sixty years of age, gaunt
and grizzled in appearance, and eccentric in many
of his ways ; but people generally laid that to the
disappointments which he had met. He was the
great man at Belvoir; the younger people looked
with admiration upon the fine-mannered gentleman
who had been at court, who knew Steele and Addi-
son and other men of letters, and had now come out
into the backwoods to live upon his vast estate,
the greatest in all Virginia.

* He was of the family of the famous Thomas, third Lord Fairfax, who lived in Cromwell's day, and was the head of that house of
fighters who took first the side of Parliament and afterward the side of the King.


His lordship, meanwhile, cared little for the gay
society which gathered at Belvoir; he was courtly
to the ladies, but they saw little of him. He liked
best the free, out-of-doors life in the woods and
the excitement of the hunt. It was this that
had pleased him when he first visited Virginia, and
that now had brought him back for the rest of his


life. It was not strange, therefore, that a friend-
ship should spring up between him and the tall,
grave lad, who was so strong in limb, who sat his
horse so firmly and rode after the hounds so well.
They hunted together, and the older man came to
know familiarly and like the strong young Amer-
ican, George Washington.
What if, in the still night, as they sat over their
camp fire, the shy boy had told his gaunt, grizzled
friend the secret of the trouble which kept him
constrained and silent in the midst of the bright
company at Belvoir! I fancy this same friend,
schooled in Old World experiences and disappoint-
ments, knew how to receive this fresh confidence.
Out of this friendship came a very practical ad-
vantage. Neither Lord Fairfax nor his cousin
William knew the bounds and extent of the lands
beyond the Blue Ridge, which formed an impor-
tant part of his lordship's domain. Moreover,
rumors came that persons from the northward had
found out the value of these lands, and that one

and another had settled upon them, without asking
leave or troubling themselves about Lord Fairfax's
title. At that time the government had done very
little toward surveying the country which lay beyond
the borders of population. It was left to any one
who claimed such land to find out exactly where it
was, and of what it consisted.
Lord Fairfax therefore determined to have his
property surveyed, and he gave the commission to
his young friend George Washington, who had
shown not only that he knew how to do the tech-
nical work, but that he had those qualities of
courage, endurance, and perseverance which were
necessary. The young surveyor had just passed
his sixteenth birthday, but, as I have said, he was
so serious and self-possessed that his companions
did not treat him as a real boy. He did not go
alone, for his friend George William Fairfax went
with him. As the older of the two, and bearing
the name of Fairfax, he was the head of the ex-
pedition, but the special work of surveying was to
be done by George Washington.


IT was in March, 1748, just a month after
George Washington was sixteen years old, that
the two young men set out on their errand. They
were only absent four or five weeks, but it was a
sudden and rough initiation into hard life. They
were mounted, and crossed the Blue Ridge by
Ashby's Gap, entering the Shenandoah valley and
making their first important halt at a spot known
as Lord Fairfax's Quarters. The term "quarters"
was usually applied at that time to the part of a
plantation where the negro slaves lived. Here, in
a lonely region near the river, about twelve miles
south of the present town of Winchester, Lord
Fairfax's overseer had charge of a number of
slaves who were cultivating the ground.
The next day after reaching this place, the young
surveyor and his companion sent their baggage
forward to a Captain Hite's, and followed more
slowly, working as they went at their task of laying
off land. At the end of a hard day they had sup-
per, and were ready for bed. As young gentlemen,
they were shown into a chamber, and Washington,
who had known nothing of frontier life, proceeded
as at home. He stripped himself very orderly, he
says in the diary which he kept, and went to bed.
What was his dismay, instead of finding a comfort-
able bed like that to which he was used, to discover
nothing but a little dirty straw, without sheet or
anything else, but only one threadbare blanket,
with double its weight of vermin." He was glad
to be out of it, and to dress himself and sleep




FIFT i i ii-t ..



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but had plenty of adventure besides. They
camped out in the midst of wild storms; they
swam their horses over swollen streams; they
shot deer and wild turkeys; they visited one
of His Majesty's justices of the peace, as Wash-
ington takes pains to note. He invited them
to supper, but expected them to eat it with
their hunting-knives, for he had neither knife
nor fork on his table; and when they were
near no house they prepared their own suppers,
using forked sticks for spits, and chips for plates.
At one place they had the good luck to be
on hand when thirty Indians who had been on
the war-path came in. "We had some liquor
with us," Washington says, "of which we gave
them a part. This elevating their spirits, put
them in the humor of dancing." So they had
Sr. -.I-...:, to the music of a native

iN l.i

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i-- ---- -
in his clothes like his companions.
After that, he knew better how to

manage, and lay wrapped before the fire, especially b a n d
glad when the fire was out-of-doors and the blue Iv which
sky overhead formed the counterpane of his bed. consist-
The party followed the Shenandoah to its junc- edoftwo
tion with the Potomac, and then ascended that pieces,
river and went some seventy miles up the South -a pot
Branch, returning over the mountains. They half full
were hard at work at the business of surveying, ofwater,

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over which a deer-skin was stretched, an
with some shot in it was used as a rattle.
This month of roughing it was a nove
young Virginian. He was used to living
ii,c mi,. and he shrunk a little from the d
which he met. He saw the rude life o
settlers, and heard them jabbering in the
tongue, which he could not understand.
stormy, cold month, one of the hard
year in which to lead an
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was paid according to the amount of w
and sometimes he was able to earn a
twenty dollars in a day.
Washington kept a brief diary while
the excursion, and very likely he shower
Fairfax on his return; at any rate, he g;
account of his adventures, and no doub
the entry at the beginning of the diary
writes: Rode to his Lordship's quarter,
miles higher up the river Shenandoah.
through most beautiful groves of sugar
spent the best part of the day in admiring
and the richness of the land." Very i

d a gourd Fairfax had himself visited his quarters before this,
but I think he must have been further stirred by
Ity to the the reports which Washington brought of the
with gen- country, for not long after he went to live there.
iscomforts The place known as Lord Fairfax's Quarters, he
f the new now called Greenway Court, and he hoped to build
e German a great manor-house in which he should live, after
It was a the style of an English earl, surrounded by his
st of the tenants and servants. He never built more than a
house for his steward, however. It was a long
S:r-.. ,:1-... l' If limestone building, the roof
S !,,r, ..- !',ward so as to form a cover for
_- ..I- ... ida, which ran the whole length
: I. house. The great Virginia
,.r-,ide chimneys were the homes
'- ,-."f martins and swallows, and the
i. house itself sheltered the stew-
ard and such chance guests
as came into the wilderness.
"" .-- \ Upon the roof were two wood-
en belfries; the bells were to
S -' '. call the slaves to work or
- '.' r to sound an alarm in case
-- :of an attack by Indians.
i.' ` .Lord Fairfax built for his
private lodging a rough cabin
-only about twelve feet square,
-- a short distance from the larger
building. Here he lived the rest
..his days. Upon racks on the
_l.s were his guns, and close at
'" .,t choice books with which he
:.ri Alive his old taste forliterature.
1-'* /' -1.: I..i,,ds walked in and out; and
.:,. .:..:.. came backwoodsmen and In-
..- i I -.. i.-nt his time hunting and appor-
-" r..i,.... ,.. it estate amongst the settlers,
1 i... ...... 1 ,I, lines, making out leases, and
1 I l- ..i. i:, ents with his tenants. He gave
I..-i . ..II I, ..: ime, but his own life was plain
'' i I. ii.. I.ept up, however, in a curious
I .. I .-r.n with the fine world of Lon-
dun, lul, tIhuLig he dressed as a hunter, and
almost as a backwoodsman, he sent every year to
ork he did, London for new suits of clothes of the most fash-
s much as ionable sort.
I suppose this was in part to enable him to ap-
he was on pear in proper dress when he went to his friends'
d it to Lord plantations; but perhaps also he wished to remind
ave him an himself that he was still an English gentleman,
expanded and might, whenever he chose, go back to the Old
Where he World. But he neverdid go. He lived to see his
about four young friend become general of the army raised
We went to defend the colonies against the unlawful use of
-trees, and authority by the British crown. Lord Fairfax
g the trees never believed it unlawful; but he was an old
likely Lord man; he took no part in the struggle, but he lived




to hear of the surrender of Cornwallis and the
downfall of the British power in the colonies; he
received messages of love from the victorious
general whom he had first started in the world;
and he died soon after-on December 12, I78I--
ninety years old.
It was this commission from Lord Fairfax to
survey his lands which made the beginning of
Washington's public life. His satisfactory execu-
tion of the task brought him an appointment
from the governor as public surveyor. This
meant that, when he made surveys, he could re-
cord them in the regular office of the county, and
they would stand as authority if land were bought
and sold. For three years now, he devoted him-
self to this pursuit, spending all but the winter
months, when he could not well carry on field
work, in laying out tracts of land up and down the
Shenandoah Valley and along the Potomac.
A great deal depended on the accuracy of
surveys; for if the surveyor made mistakes, he
would be very likely to involve the persons whose
land he surveyed in endless quarrels and lawsuits.
People soon found out that Washington made no
mistakes, and he had his hands full. Years after-
ward, a lawyer who had a great deal of business
with land-titles in the new Virginia country de-
clared that the only surveys on which he could de-
pend were those of Washington.
The young surveyor, by his familiarity with the
country, learned where the best lands lay, and he
was quick to take advantage of the knowledge,
so that many fine sections were taken up by him

xi .,4

and others of his family and connections. He saw
what splendid prospects the wilderness, held out,
and by contact with the backwoodsmen and the
Indians, he laid the foundation of that broad
knowledge of men and woodcraft which stood him
in such good stead afterward. He must have
seemed almost like one of the Indians themselves,
as he stood, grave and silent, watching them around
their camp-fires.
His outdoor life, his companionship with rough
men, and his daily work of surveying served to.
toughen him. They made him a self-reliant man
beyond his years. People who saw him were
struck by the curious likeness which his walk bore
to that of the Indians. He was straight as an ar-
row, and he walked with his feet set straight out,
moving them forward with the precision and
care which the Indian uses. Especially did his.
long isolation in the wilderness confirm him in the
habit of silence which he had as a boy and kept
through life. Living so much by himself, he
learned to think for himself and rely on himself.
Meanwhile, though his occupation was thus.
helping to form his character, he was still learning
from his associates. There were three or four
houses where he was at home. He went back to
his mother at her plantation on the Rappahan-
nock; he was a welcome guest at Belvoir; he
visited Lord Fairfax in his cabin, and, as his diary
shows, read his Lordship's books as well as talked
with the quaint old gentleman; and he always.
had a home with his brother Lawrence at Mount
(To be continued.)


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IN Virginia of old,
A highwayman bold
Sprang out from his lair,
On a gay coach and pair.
The darky who drove turned pallid with fear,
And so did the darky who rode in the rear.

1-" I- I1 I i I :
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Please judge for yourselves, for I never knew.
The master inside,
Disturbed in his ride,
Protruded his head,
And near fainted with dread.
But what happened then?--I leave it to you.
Please judge for yourselves, for I never knew.



FRED came down late to breakfast that morn-
ing-so late that all the other members of the
family were through, and had gone about their
respective duties. But though he had slept so
long, Fred was still sleepy, for he had staid up
until twelve o'clock the night before, whereas he
was usually in bed by nine. To tell the truth, he
was also rather cross,--as most boys are apt to be
when they are sleepy,-and as he took his seat
he said: '"Pshaw! there's nothing on the breakfast

Then he called lazily, K-a-t-e K-a-t-e! But
no Kate replied, for an excellent reason,-she
did n't hear him ; she was out in the poultry-yard
feeding the chickens. So Fred leaned forward
with a very discontented expression on his face,
and closed his eyes; but he soon opened them
again, and began to sneeze. A pungent odor had
tickled his nose.
Ker-chew ker-chew! k-e-r-chew! What in
the world did that ?" said he.
"Idid," replied a sharp little voice, and there






on the table, before him, stood a small creature
dressed in green, and wearing the brightest of
bright red caps.
"And who are you?" asked Fred.
I 'm Pepper." And the wee thing went hop-
ping and skipping about in the nimblest manner,
talking rapidly all the time. "'Nothing on the
breakfast table,' hey? I believe that 's what you
said; and I call it decidedly ungrateful in you to
say so, when there are a number of things here,
brought from all parts of the world to serve you
and the other animals that laugh."
"That laugh ? repeated Fred.
"Yes-that laugh. Don't you know-I'm
sure you must be old enough to know-that of all
the animal creation, only the human race-I think
that 's what it 's called--can laugh? And when
one considers," Pepper went on, "that I come away
from the East Indies to help season your food, one
would suppose that you would be somewhat obliged
to me, and would not count me as nothing."
"That 's true joined in a second little voice,
and another small figure, wearing a pure white
dress dotted with shining crystals, and a wreath
of what seemed to be baby-snowflakes, sprang
from the glass salt-cellar.

No, indeed, of course not; I beg your pardon,
and Pepper's also-" said Fred hastily. "I 'm
sure I never meant-- "
But here another tiny form stepped from the
bread-plate and bowed .-...iii to him, the
plumes it wore on its head nearly touching the
table as it did so. And am I nothing? it asked,
" I, to whom the whole world owes the greatest
of debts ; I, who have given health and strength
to young and old."
"And you are-" began Fred, with some
Is it possible you don't know me ? exclaimed
the pretty thing reproachfully.
You-look-like-Wheat? ventured Fred.
I am Wheat! and the feathery plumes waved
lightly, as '1,..,, .1. r, ,...1 by a summer breeze, and
you have me to thank for Bread, which one of your
wise ones has said is the staff of life.' "
"Oh! I beg your pardon, too," said Fred. "I
would n'tbe withoutBread for anything,- not even
cake. Why Bread is one of the very first things I
remember. Bread and- "
"Butter," cried a jolly fat fellow in cream-
colored garments. "Ha! ha! I fancy all young
folks become acquainted with me and my fast

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"And who are you?" asked Fred.
"I am Salt," came the answer in clear tones.
"I have come from deep mines and deep waters
to wait upon you and your kind, for many, many
years. What you would do without me I do not
know, for you require my aid morning, noon, and
night. Am I then to be classed as nothing?"

friend, Bread, as soon as they get their teeth, and
they never drop the acquaintance. And if you,
Master Fred, did n't find me on the table when
you came to your meals, you 'd make complaint
enough to indicate that I am something. Now,
would n't you ?"
You are something a very important some-


thing! declared Fred, with emphasis. Please
consider yourself included in my apology to your
chums friends, I mean."
And how about me? called the sweetest voice
of all from the top of the syrup-jug, where sat a
brown-faced elf, in a suit like jointed armor, a
flower in one hand and a greenish stick in the
other. "I belong to the sugar-cane, and I come
from the West Indies to give you syrup for your
bread and griddle-cakes, and sugar for your tea
and coffee."
I suppose I need n't tell you, my boy," ex-
claimed another sprite (with a pigtail), sitting
astride the handle of the teapot,-" that I,-Tea,
at your service,- come from China. And I shall


- -~-



gently remark that I am not at all used to being
considered as nothing."
And we," spoke two more quaint, wee creatures
in the same breath, as they peeped from behind the
coffee-pot, have traveled from Java and Arabia to
bring you pleasure. Surely you forgot us when- "
"So I did-so I did!" interrupted Fred,
"dear Coffee, or perhaps I should say Coffees.
And it strikes me, as it struck my lively friend
Pepper-that I 've been decidedly ungrateful."
And he seemed very thoughtful when, his little
visitors disappearing as suddenly as they had
appeared, Kate brought in some crisp slices of
buttered toast, a plate of delicious wheat cakes
and golden syrup, and a cup of steaming coffee.



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By W. W E.

THE Sun and the Moon are miles apart,-
Millions and millions too;
But if those old bodies had half a heart,
They never could stand it so far apart,-
I know I could n't- could you?

But I have just heard (and I think she's right)
What the dear old Earth opines:
That the Sun shines down on some stars each night,
And shoots them off, when they're polished bright,
To the Moon for Valentines!



*;7 ... .

4. Iqr.
t-j ii' '




DICKY DOT (boyish and buoyant).
DOTTY DICK (nmaronly and maidenly).
ARABELLA, the Doll (non-committal).
[Let the characters be taken by two as bright little children as can
be selected for the parts; the younger the better. DOTTY, a little
girl of six or seven, and DICKY, a little boy of seven or eight.
The only properties necessary are the doll and doll-carriage, with
afghan and a small umbrella. Dress in taking costumes of to-
day, with ulsters and large hats, if possible, for better effect.
DICKY, at least, should have an ulster and hat. Caution the
children to speak slowly and distinctly.]
[DOTTY enters, right, wheeling ARABELLA in doll-carriage; stops at
DOTTY (disconsolately).
Oh dear, oh dear a mother's cares are really
very wearing;
I did so want to rest-but, no; this child
must have an airing.
(Conv llsively.)
Why, Arabella Florence Dick, you '11 catch
your death o' danger!
How daze you throw that afghan off!
[Leans down to adjust it, and sees Dc!vK outside.
My goodness! there 's a stranger.
Why, no -why, yes! it 's Dicky Dot, a-pranc-
ing and a-dancing.
He's got a brand new ulster on-my! does
n't he look entrancing!

And does n't he think ihe just looks fine In
boys, it 's too distressing
To see them thinking of their clothes--we girls
nmtst mind our dressing.
[Enter DICKy, at the left, lifting his hat.
Good morning, Mr. Dicky Dot; I hope you're
well and hearty.
DICKY (taking his /tai of politely).
Oh, thank you, Mrs. Dotty Dick; I 'm quite a
healthy party.
And how are you, and [ over rcarriage]
how's the child- Miss Arabella Florence?
DOTTY (dolefully).
I'm well enough; but oh, that child!-I just
could weep in torrents!
She does enjoy suci/ feeble health, I 'm in a
constant fever !
I hardly dare to take her out-I can't go off
and leave her.
And so, you see, I 'm tied at home; it's such
a wear and bother !
Oh, Mr. Dicky Dot, be glad that you are not
a mother.
r)ICKY ( ). I 'm sure I 'm glad.
DOTTY. Ah yes our lives are just a lot of worry,
While all you boys have easy times, all fun,
and play, and hurry.


DICKY. Oh, no, we don't.
DOTTY. Oh, yes, you do.
DICKY. We have to work for true, though.
DOTTY. Well, so do we, and worry, too- that does
n't trouble you, though.
You walk around in pantaloons-
DICKY (with an injured air). Only one pocket though,
DOTTY. A brand new ulster.
DICKY (proudly). Aint it nice?-I'm really quite a.
show, ma'am.
DOTTY. And here I have to tend and mind a dread-
ful pretty baby.
I'm just a nurse-girl, I declare!
DICKY ( ,). She '11 soon get better.
DOTTY (dubiously). May be.
DICKY (seriously). You 're only play-mad; are n't you,
DOTTY. Of course; it's nothings worry;
But that's the way my mamma acts when she's
all in a flurry.
DICKY (ioefdiI/ly). Some day we'll both be big folks,
DOTTY (With satisfaction). I '11 wear my dresses longer.
DICKY. And I '11 wear boots, and big high hats, and
be a great deal stronger.
And you wont care for dolls! -
DOTTY ("*r ^'"'',"-7). Oh, yes!
DICKY( ) 'hI, ,o!
DOTTY (decidedly). I '11 always love them.
DICKY (patronizingly). Oh, not when you're a lady,
'Cause then you 'll feel above them.
DOTTY ( ,). And what will you be, Dicky
Dot? A--butcher or a- teacher?
DICKY (considering). Oh, neither, Dot; I think-I'll
be-a-prince-or else-a preacher.
DOTTY. I 'd be a prince, if I were you- all spangles
gold, and rattle.
DICKY. I think I '11 be a general, and lead my troops
to battle.
What would you say to see, some day-a-gal-
loping and rearing-
Me-Major-General Richard Dot-and hear
the people cheering?
DOTTY (coolly). I s'pose I 'd say, "Why, goodness me
What is that Dicky trying?
I 'm sure he '11 fall and hurt himself! "- And
then you'd tumble, crying.
DICKv (indignantly). I guess I would n't, Dotty Dick;
why--generals never tumble.
I '11 be a man, then.
DoTTY. So you will.
DICKY contemptuouslyly. And you '11 be scared and
DOTTY ( . ). Oh, no! I wont; for then I 'll be
a queen so grand and glorious.
DICKY (incredulously). You ?-Dotty Dick?
DOTTY magnificentlyy). Yes me I '11 be Queen Dora,
the victorious!

DICKY (durllfnnded). Well- well!
DOTTY. And then the kings will crowd to beg my
hand in marriage.
And I will say-
"Ah-General Dot, just order up my car-
riage "
DICKY (taken all aback by this grandeur).
Well-I must say-of all the girls that plague,
and tease, and tickle us-
You are about the-. DottyDick, I-really-am-
DOTTY (sarcastically). Ae-dick-alous !
Oh, Dicky Dot! Oh, Dicky Dot! do you think
only you, sir,
Can grow up big, and grand, and fine ? What
you do, I can do, sir !
So why can't we be partners, then- the same
as when we 're playing?
You be the General-I'll be Queen, whom all
the world 's obeying.
And you will be so brave and strong, that none
can ever humble me.
DICKY (bombastically). Yes, I'll protect you!
DOTTY (starting suddenly away from carriage).
Oh! what 's that?-a dreadful, horrid bumble-
DICKY (running away). Look out! he'll i,. you!
[Opens umbrella, and holds it before him.
DOTTY (piteously). Drive him off!
DICKY (backing firrther of).
I can't! he '11 sting a fellow.
Come under the umbrella-quick He's there
by Arabella.
[DOTTY runs under the umbrella, and they both sit on the ground,
central, under cover of its protection. Then they cautiously
put their heads out, at opposite sides, and look at each other.

DOTTY (sarcastically). Well, Major-General Richard
Dot, you are a brave defender.
DICKY ( ). I 'm afraidd of bees -
DOTTY (critically). But generals ought n't to be
quite so tender!
DICKY ( bravely to his feet). Queen Dora,
shall I charge the foe?
DOTTY (rising, but guarding/ herself ivith the open
Do, General, I implore you!
He 's at my daughter! Oh, see there! Save
her, and I '11 adore you!
DICKY pullingg off / his hat, charges manfa/ly
toward the carriage, beating the air as if he were
striking down a bee). Be off, you traitor! (dodging'
him). No, you don't! Ha! ha! I 've killed him,
Dotty! (C' his hand to his mouth).
Oh oh he's stung me!
DOTTY (dropping / the umbrella, and rushing to
Dicky's side, full of sympathy.)
Dicky! Where?
DICKY (jumpLing in pain and showing his hand to
Dotty). O-o-o! There!




DOTTY (examining it critically). How white and
Say, will it kill you?
DICKY (dubiously). I don't know. I s'pose there 's
poison in it!
DOTTY (in tears). Oh, dear! Oh, dear! And all for
me! Oh, why did I begin it?
DICKY (consolingly). Now, Dotty, darling! don't you
fret! I '11-O-o-o-o! I 'll try to bear it.
DoTTY. Poor Dicky! let me wrap it up (stripping the
afghan of the carriage and surveying it criti-
cally). Oh dear / I '11 have to tear it.
DICKY fittingg it back). No, no, your handker-
chief will do.
DOTTY (sweetly). I '11 kiss it!
DICKY. That '11 cure it! (Dotty kisses the sting
It don't pain half so badly now; I think I
can endure it.
DOTTY wrappingg Dicky's hand up in her handker-
Oh, what a brave boy, Dicky Dot! You 're
General no longer.
If I 'm the Queen, then you be King: you 're
nobler, sir, and stronger.
And Arabella,--she shall be the fairy who shall
lead us
To where our golden palace stands, with lords
to serve and feed us.
DICKY. But we 've not got our king-clothes on-
't will set the folks a-staring.
DOTTY. I think I 'd rather see my King his brand
new ulster wearing.
DICKY (utterly captivatedd. Oh, are n't you nice!
DOTTY (sweetly). And so are you.
DICKY ( ). My papa said, this morning,
'T was manlier to rule yourself, than be a
throne adorning.
DOTTY (puzzled). What did he mean?
DICKY (still i. I s'pose he meant a
coward's mean and- sniffy!
DOTTY. You 're not.
DICKY (accusingly). I ran!
DOTTY (emphatically). But then--you killed that
buzzer-in a jiffy!
DICKY ( -. ). Well, Dotty, something said-
right here (putting his hand on his heart):
Hm! you 're a pirtty fellow,
A-hiding from a bumble-bee behind a big
A general that 's afraidd to fight will fail
unless he 's bolder.
If you 're a 'fraid-cat now, you' ll be a 'fraid-
cat when you're older."
And so I up and killed him dead.

DOTTY shakingg her head).
He 's stung you badly, may be.
DICKY (stoutly).
I 'd rather be hurt awful bad than be a
How's Arabella?
DOTTY examiningg Arabella carefully). She 's all right.
DICKY. No stings on hand or footy?
DOTTY. Oh, no; she's just mussed up a bit; I '11 fix
her nice and pretty.
[Shakes Arabella out, and re-arranges her in the carriage.
DICKY. Let's play the bee was monstrous big and
had a dragon's head on;
And you two be the princesses, such as
they 're always fed on.
I'11 be the prince who 's galloped up, at just the
lucky minute,
And killed the dragon dead-and left my
sword a-sticking in it.
DOTTY (enthusiastically).
Oh yes. Well, I 'm the Princess, then-
just like the fairy story,-
And we 'll live happy all our days, with lots
of gold and glory.
DICKY. All right. And, as the dragon's dead, let 's
play there 'd come to meet us
A big procession, with the King and all his
court to greet us.
DOTTY (grasping the doll-carriage). Then let Prince
Dicky lead the way.
DICKY (shouldering the umbrella).
Let Princess Dotty follow
With Arabella, off of whom the dragon took a
DOTTY. She's in the chariot- 0, so ill!
DICKY. Move on now to the palace.
Guns boom, flags wave, because we 've all
escaped the dragon's malice.
DoTTY (staoping him and taking his hand).
But, 'fore we go, we ought to thank these
friends who 've listened to us.
[Both face the audience.
DICKY. If you are pleased, then euc are glad; such
good your smiles can do us.
And if, some time, you come to court, just
ask -
DOTTY. We '11 come out quick. [Bothjoin hands.
DICKY. For Prince and General Dicky Dot.
DOTTY. And Princess Dotty Dick.
[Both bow majestically.


[If no curtain is used the children can then march off-DICKY,
with umbrella, in front, and DOTTY, rolling doll-carriage, following.




THE lion is called the king of beasts; but after
all, he is rather a sneaking sort of fellow, and not
what we have a right to expect a monarch to be.
He is very strong, and when he must fight, does
so fiercely; but as he is not any more powerful
than the tiger, and is not even as good a fighter,
he ought to take rank next to that first cousin of
But even the tiger is not entitled to the first
place, for he is not by any means the master of the
brute creation. If any animal can be said to hold
that place, it is certainly the elephant. Only, the
elephant, not being a flesh-eater, very seldom has
trouble with his comrades of the forests, and conse-
quently has no reputation as a fighter. And yet
he can fight, even in captivity, as was seen only a
few weeks ago, when in the winter quarters of a
menagerie at Philadelphia,-according to the
newspapers,- an enraged lion, escaping from his
broken cage, dashed madly upon a great elephant,
only to be instantly crushed to death by the power-
ful beast which he had dared to attack.
All animals, indeed, respect the elephant and
give him a wide berth. Once in a while, a rhinoc-
eros will lose his wits and go tearing through the
jungle, regardless of consequences, and he might
then attack even an elephant. As a rule, the result
is very disastrous to the rhinoceros, which is quite
likely to discover that his horn is no match for the
two shining white tusks of the elephant.
When used by man for hunting the tiger, the
elephant will frequently display the most abject
fear, should the tiger suddenly spring up in his
path ; and this fact has led to the belief that the
elephant has a natural fear of the tiger. The
truth is, the tamed elephant has been taught to so
bend his will to his human master's that he has
lost his ability to act upon his own impulse, and,
moreover, is so hampered by his crowded how-
dah, and his other trappings, that he has not full
liberty of action.
Stories without number are told by hunters of
combats witnessed in the jungle between elephants
and other animals, and all go to show the prodig-
ious strength and activity of the huge creatures.
Strength, of course, the elephant would be ex-
pected to have, but it is hard to comprehend how
so ungainly-looking a creature can be so active and
agile as he really is. That he can outrun a fleet

horse seems incredible enough, but it is even
more wonderful that he can vie in quickness of
movement with the muscular tiger.
One of a party of hunters in India left camp one
evening, intending to shoot one of the peacocks
which were heard screaming in their discordant
way not very far from camp. He knew from ex-
perience that he might find a tiger in the neighbor-
hood, though up to that time no traces of that
animal had been seen. But the tiger is so fond
of peacock that experienced hunters always go
cautiously to shoot the birds.
In this case the caution was wise, for when near
the spot where the birds were, the hunter just
saved himself from stumbling on a large tiger,
which fortunately was so much taken up with steal-
ing upon the birds that it did not notice the man.
The latter, anticipating some interesting sport,
watched the tiger move stealthily through the
underbrush and come upon the noisy birds. Who-
ever has seen an ordinary cat crouch and spring
can comprehend what the hunter saw. The spring
was unsuccessful, however; and, as is its custom,
the tiger, as if ashamed of its failure, was slinking
away, when there came the noise of crashing
underbrush, and the graceful creature crouched
closely to the ground.
The noise, as the hunter had at once suspected,
was caused by the approach of a herd of elephants.
Again he waited silently for further developments.
The huge creatures made their way straight toward
the clearing where the peacocks had been feeding
on the grain which grew there. At the head of
the herd gamboled a baby elephant. Unconscious
of the presence of the tiger, the little creature was
almost upon it, when the great cat, as if unable
to resist the temptation, darted toward it. Like
magic the whole herd responded to the shrill cry
of the mother, and the leader of the herd charged
to the rescue.
The tiger seemed il!Ig to retreat, but that the
leader would not permit; and then began a fierce
combat, in which the tiger with all its agility strove
to take the elephant anywhere but in front. To
avoid this, the elephant moved about with aston-
ishing celerity, and finally with a quick plunge
caught the tiger under its ponderous foot, and with
one terrible thrust pierced it with its tusks. Is not
the elephant the real King ?






VOL. XIII.- 19.




IN these wintry months when frost and snow
have driven tennis-players from their summer
lawns, the game can be played only when large
halls are available. There is, however, an excel-
lent substitute for tennis in Badminton, a game
which has been popular for many years in England,
and which last winter became quite the fashion in
New York.



r I--
L zL
-1 m z m
a .
15 FEET. 10 FEET. 15

It is, in effect, lawn-tennis with light, feathered
shuttlecocks instead of balls. A court of the dimen-
sions indicated in the diagram is the full size, as
used for play in the spacious regimental armories
of New York. It is far larger than is possible for
most private establishments. The parlor or the
garret, however, can be marked off into courts
sufficiently large, and nothing can be finer for
Badminton than a genuine country barn, with the
net suspended between the hay-mows on either side.
White tape may be pinned down to mark the courts
on a carpeted floor, and probably no one will object
if the chalk line is used in barn or garret.
Badminton can be played over a net or a cord.
The regulation height of the net is five feet six
inches at the ends, and five feet in the middle. The
only use in giving it any width at all is, that the
players may be sure that the shuttlecock goes over
it instead of under it,-a requirement which may
easily be in doubt where only a line is used.
The game consists in striking the shuttlecock
back and forth over the net, until one of the players
fails to return it.
Suppose that the game is to be single,-that is,
that only two players are to be engaged,-choice
of position and opening play should be decided by
lot. The one who makes the first stroke is called

the "server," and the other is the "striker out."
The server must stand with both feet within his
own right-hand court, and strike the shuttlecock so
that it will, if it reaches the ground, fall within the
boundaries of the court diagonally opposite.
If the shuttlecock is sent fairly over, touching
neither net nor posts, and falls to the ground within
the court specified, the "server" scores ace; that
is, fifteen, as explained farther on.
SIf the shuttlecock touches net or
Sports, it is a fault," and the
o w "server" must serve again. Two
I- consecutive faults" put him
"1 o
(3 "hand out," with no score for
cc either side, and his opponent
OURT LINE. serves in turn.
I2 He is "hand-out," also, if he
5 strikes the shuttlecock more than
o once; if he sends it out of bounds;
-. o if he touches it with any part of
W clothing or person, after having
FEET. hit it with his racket; or if he fails
altogether to send it over the net.
These last are more serious than
mere "faults," and no second trial is allowed.
If the "server" scores,-that.is, if his shuttlecock
falls to the ground within the diagonally opposite
court,-he serves again, standing this time in his
own left court, and so on, changing courts until
his opponent scores.
If the "server's" shuttlecock grazes the net or
posts and the other player returns it, the game
goes on; and in like manner, if the striker-out"
fails to make a clear return, but the "server"
chooses to receive and send it back, the game con-
tinues. If the shuttlecock falls on a line, it counts
for the striker.
After the shuttlecock is "in play," either
player may aim to send it so that it will fall any-
where within either of the opposite courts, the
purpose of each player being to make the return
as difficult as possible for his opponent. The first
stroke only is limited to the court diagonally op-
When either player wins his first stroke, the score
is called fifteen for that player. When either wins
his second stroke, his score becomes thirty. When
either wins a third stroke, the score becomes forty,
and the fourth stroke won scores game."
If both players win three strokes,- scoring forty
each,- the score is called deuce, and the next




stroke won by either is called advantage for that
player. If this same player wins the next stroke
he wins the game, but if his opponent wins it,
the score returns to deuce; and so on until one
player wins two successive strokes immediately
following deuce, when the game is scored for that
A set" consists of eleven games; therefore, the
player who wins six games wins the set; but if both
have won five games the score is called games all,
and the next game won by either player is called
advantage game for that player. If the same
player wins the next game he wins the set, but if
he loses it, the score returns to games all, and so
on until one player or the other wins two games
immediately following the score of games all, upon
which he wins the set.
Tennis-players, of course, know all about this
method of counting, and it is given here merely
for the benefit of those who wish to play Badminton,
and are not familiar with tennis.
Suitable rackets and shuttlecocks may be had
of any dealer. The nets now furnished are usually
tennis nets, and are wider than necessary. A strip

of white mosquito netting, with a tape run through
one edge, will serve for a net, and a few split shot
pinched in place along the lower selvedge will
make it hang nicely. Half-a-dozen tassels will do
equally well, and will make the whole affair quite
The power of flight of the shuttlecocks may be
regulated to suit the size of the court, by making a
small hole in the center of each end of the cork
and pushing in shot until the right weight is
secured. It is a good plan to cover the cork
with thin india-rubber, and a truer flight is
secured for it by lacing a thread in and out
around the feathers, about an inch and a half
from the cork, drawing it tight enough to make
the feathers perfectly even.
In three-handed games the single player serves
in every alternate game, and the partners serve by
turns. In four-handed, and so on up to eight-
handed games, the service is taken alternately, and
the partners on the opposing sides adopt a regular
order in taking their turns as "servers." The
scoring for these sets is governed by the same rules
as in single-handed games.

- .n W

/ f





-'. -. ) as our Republic is,
!a.rs besides ourselves
S.. claim a share in its
I. .-r.y. .While always
.iriotic, we should also
.rbe just. Our Con-
~-~ nation, with all its
4 .. lesty, is not beyond
L' I movement, and much
c i '-ch lends it grace and
:r. ngth we owe to for-
.1-.x- lands. Let us not,
therefore, boast of a perfection we do not possess,
nor withhold from others the tribute they deserve.
Indebted though we are, in many respects, to
Greece and other nations of the East, it is from
England, the great battle-ground of our civiliza-
tion, that we have received the most precious
safeguards of civil liberty. The history of the Eng-
lish people is our history, and every American boy
and girl should study it as such. It will show
you how, for centuries, our English forefathers re-
sisted the oppressions of the crown, and you will
understand how the countless blessings of the
victories they won have descended to the genera-
tion of to-day. From the time when King John
gave way before the power of the United Barons,
to the time when the scepter of the Stuarts
was placed within the hands of William, Prince of
Orange, the history of the English people is replete
with deeds of valor and of patriotism which should
be familiar to us all. These matters I cannot here
recount or even attempt to explain; but until you
understand these great events, you cannot properly
prize the advantages you enjoy, or realize how
sacred is the debt due to the land of our ancestors.
Not only does Congress in its simple rules of
procedure proclaim the Parliament of Great Brit-
ain as its model, but in the general design of our
federal legislature and in many other features of
our Constitution, we are constantly reminded of how
much we have borrowed from the Constitution of
England. The points of difference, however, are
as noticeable as those of resemblance ; and I shall
try to compare the two governments and show, by
a brief sketch or parallel, in what respects they
differ and in what respects they are alike. Let me,

therefore, view their general outlines as they stand
to-day; the limits of a single chapter will not per-
mit me to go into details. If at any part of these
chapters I carry you beyond your depth, perhaps
your fathers will come to the rescue with history
and dictionary to help you out.

As far back as 1536, in the reign of Henry VIII.,
the little dominion of Wales was merged into the
Kingdom of England, to which the Isle of Man
and other adjacent territory already belonged; on
the Ist day of May, 1707, the kingdoms of Eng-
land and Scotland were, by formal articles of
union, united into one kingdom under the name
of Great Britain; and by similar articles, which
took effect on the Ist day of January, 1801, Great
Britain and Ireland were joined into one king-
dom, under the name of The United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland, with one common
government seated at London. This common gov-
ernment is in the form of a limited monarchy, with
a Queen (whose title is hereditary, and whose power
is limited), a Parliament, and a Judiciary. By the
articles of union, both Scotland and Ireland were
stripped of their local governments; they accepted
as their monarch the King then occupying the
English throne, and agreed to the succession"
(that is, the line of hereditary reigning sovereigns),
as the English Parliament had declared it. In
short, the English Parliament merely opened its
door to allow a certain number of representatives
from Ireland and Scotland to enter, and, with
this exception and its extended power, the English
government went on as if nothing had happened.
So that to-day, after centuries of disturbance and
struggle, the authority of that government is
supreme not only in the Kingdom, but in the
colonies and dependencies throughout the world.

On the 4th of March, 1789, by formal ratifications
of the Constitution, the eleven independent States
of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut,
New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware,
Maryland, Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia
entered into a Union under the name of the United
States of America, into which North Carolina and
Rhode Island, the remaining two of the thirteen
original States, shortly afterward came, and into
which twenty-five additional States have since been
admitted. Over these thirty-eight States there isa
federal government seated at Washington, in the

SCopyright, 1884, by Edmund Alton. All rights reserved.






form of a republic, with a President elected every
four years by the people of the Union, a Congress,
and a Judiciary. On entering into the Union, the
States preserved their independence and retained
their local governments; they provided that both
the States, as States, and the people of the States,
as individual citizens, should have a voice in the
election of the President; they were guaranteed a
representation in both branches of the Congress,
and this representation was fixed on terms of equal-
ity between the sovereign States as to the Upper
House, or Senate, and made proportionate to pop-

over others, in many matters of local interest to
the States it has no authority whatever. Yet, in
regard to the Seat of Government and the Terri-
tories, although most of these Territories have
been organized and given local governments and
delegates in Congress, their chief executive and
judicial officers are appointed by the President,
and the authority of the General Government is
as absolute as is that of Parliament.

The people of Great Britain are divided, politi-
cally, into two general classes called the clergy

- 3 -.--


ulation as to the Lower House, or House of Rep-
resentatives. (The representation of Scotland and
Ireland in the Imperial Parliament was not so fixed
on terms of equality as to the Upper House or ac-
cording to population as to the Lower.) It was
expressly understood (and so declared in the
Tenth Amendment) that all powers not delegated
by the Constitution to the Congress were and are
reserved to the States or to the people thereof,
and emphatic restrictions as well as prohibitions
were imposed. The Federal Government is, there-
fore, one of limited powers, for, while its jurisdic-
tion is exclusive over some affairs and supreme

and the laity. The former comprises the ecclesias-
tics of the established Protestant Episcopal Church.
The laity is subdivided into three classes, the mil-
itary, the maritime, and the civil state. The mil-
itary and maritime states are composed of the
army and navy,--the soldiers and sailors in the
public service. The civil state is subdivided into
two classes: the nobility, a class especially hon-
ored with titles and rank derived from the Crown
and chiefly hereditary; and the commonalty, em-
bracing all other subjects of the kingdom. The
clergy, the nobility, and the commonalty are rep-
resented in the administration of the common


government, yet not with equal power; and these
class distinctions arrange the nation into one long
line, with a regular order of superiority recognized
and observed in social as well as official circles.
First in the order of precedence, as it is called,
stands Her Majesty the Queen," or the reign-
ing sovereign. The heir apparent to the throne
(" His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales," as
he is designated) stands second; next come other
princes and princesses of the blood royal; then
follows the Archbishop of Canterbury, and then a
regular succession down through the line of clergy,
nobility, and commonalty, with slight variations
in favor of high officers of the state, ending with
" gentlemen, yeomen, tradesmen, artificers, and

The people of the United States of America are
not separated into political classes. The Govern-
ment is representative in form; all male citizens,
whether native-born or naturalized, over the age
of twenty-one ears, including public officers, are,
with few exceptions, entitled to vote,-the vote
of the laborer being equal in power to the vote
of the President. And as to such States as have
imposed property conditions or otherwise denied
or abridged the right to vote, the Constitution
provides that their representation shall be pro-
portionately reduced. We have no established
religion, no titles of nobility,-both are expressly
prohibited. The only distinctions we recognize
are '"people" and "servants of the people";
the former class consisting of the "private citi-
zens," the latter class embracing all officers in
the public service ; and while, by the etiquette of
the White House and the social circles of Wash-
ington, a certain order of precedence is observed,
this distinction is confined to the arrangement of
seats at the dinner-table or to the momentous
question as to which of two ladies shall make the
first callon the other. These distinctions do not
touch the national interests, nor does anybody care
for them, outside of the city of Washington.

In England, the great powers of. government
are not distributed among three distinct and inde-
pendent departments. The Parliament, as the
legislative department of the Government, is the
supreme power in the realm; yet, its authority is
more than simply legislative. It possesses judi-
cial functions, and practically wields all the rights
and powers of the sovereign. The title to the
crown is hereditary; the succession, however, may
be changed by Parliament at any time. As the
head of the nation, the Queen is, in theory, vested
with the executive powers of government, and she
is also a part of the legislative power, but, as a fact,

the executive functions of the Crown are exercised
by the ministry, or cabinet, chosen from the politi-
cal party that has a majority in the House of Com-
mons. They exercise these functions in the name
of the sovereign. The Queen is said to be the
fountain ofhonor, of justice, and (by afeudal fiction
invented by William the Conqueror) of property.
But the real, personal power of the sovereign in
the important affairs of government has long since
been absorbed by Parliament and the courts.
The courts of justice are composed of judges
selected from the legal profession. In theory,
they are the agents of the Crown; they are created
by the exercise of the royal prerogative, in the
hands of the parliamentary ministry, and are, in
fact, subordinate only to the supremacy of Parlia-
ment itself.

In our republic, the powers of sovereignty are
committed to three distinct and independent depart-
ments. The Congress, as the legislative depart-
ment of the Government, is, of course, the supreme
power; yet, mighty though it is, it can not tran-
scend its legislative jurisdiction. The President is
elected by the people; he holds office for four
years, and Congress has no power beyond counting
the electoral votes, and providing, by law, what
person shall temporarily occupy the Presidential
office in the event of the death or disability of the
President and Vice-President. The President is
the head of the nation and, as Chief Magistrate,
the judicial writs of Federal courts run in his name.
He can' not bestow "honors." The property of
this country is "allodial," or not feudal"; we
have no "lord paramount"; we owe no one "feudal
allegiance"; we are all sovereigns ourselves, and
expect the President to serve us. He is expressly
charged with the performance of the executive
affairs of government, and, in the performance
of his constitutional duties, he can not be dis-
turbed by Congress or the courts. His Cabinet
advisers and other subordinate officers- he selects
of his own free-will, regardless of the partisan
complexion of either House, although the consent
of two-thirds of the Senate is necessary to the
appointment of his principal assistants. He is a
great personal power in the Government. The
Federal judges are appointed by the President with
the consent of the Senate; and the mandate of the
Supreme Court is final and binding upon all.
The Judicial Department is as independent as the

The Parliament consists of the Crown and the
"three estates of the realm,"--the Lords spirit-
ual, the Lords temporal, and the Commons. It is
divided into two bodies,- the House of Lords and




the House of Commons. The House of Lords is
composed of the first two estates of the realm,-
the Lords spiritual and the Lords temporal. The
Lords spiritual are the archbishops and the bish-
ops; they represent the Church. The Lords tem-
poral are the dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts,
and barons; they represent the peerage, or nobility.
Most of the English peers sit in Parliament by
right of inheritance; but, as in the case of the
Lords spiritual, their titles are derived from the
Crown, and their number may be increased at any
time by the sovereign, acting through the min-
istry. The peerage of Scotland is entitled to
elect a certain number of its members to seats
in the House of Lords, but the terms of such
members expire upon the dissolution of a Parlia-
ment. The peerage of Ireland has a similar right;
the members elected by it, however, holding their
seats for life.
The House of Commons is composed of the
third estate, and consists of knights, citizens, and
burgesses, representing the counties, cities, and
boroughs of the kingdom. They are elected by
the great body of the commonalty, subject to cer-
tain property and other restrictions.

The Congress consists of two bodies of men -
the Senate and the House of Representatives.
The members of the Senate are elected by the
legislatures of the several States, each State being
entitled to a representation of two. The num-
ber of senators can only be increased by the ad-
mission into the Union of additional States; nor
can any State be deprived of its equal suffrage
in the Senate without its own consent. The
House of Representatives is composed of represen-
tatives of the people of the republic, duly elected
by the people, the representation being propor-
tioned among the several States in the ratio of
population, although each State is entitled to at
least one representative. The people of each organ-
ized territory have, by Congressional enactment,
the right to elect a delegate to Congress, who oc-
cupies a seat in the House, but is not permitted
to vote in the enactment of laws.

The House of Lords represents the clergy and
the nobility, and its majority may be controlled
by the ministry of the Commons wielding the
royal power of increasing the number of lords,
spiritual or temporal. The Senate represents the
States, as independent sovereignties, and is not

subject to be increased by the caprice of any other
clique or body.
The House of Commons represents the people
of the kingdom; yet the right to vote is still denied
to thousands of the commonalty.* The House of
Representatives represents the people of the repub-
lic, and the right to vote is practically universal. f
The House of Lords is presided over by the
Lord Chancellor, who is, by virtue of his office,
its Speaker. The Senate is presided over by the
Vice-President, who is, by virtue of his office, its
The House of Commons elects its own Speaker
from among its own membership, but goes through
the formality of getting permission to do so from
the Crown. The House of Representatives chooses
its Speaker from its own membership as a right
conferred by the Constitution, and not by the grace
of any one.
Each House of Parliament makes its own rules,
and regulates its own affairs, and the members of
both enjoy freedom from arrest (except in certain
cases), and from legal responsibility for words
uttered in debate. The same privileges extend to
each House of Congress, and to the members of
In England the House of Commons has the ex-
clusive right of originating all money-bills, and the
power of impeachment, and also has the authority
of a Court of Record to punish for contempt. The
House of Lords is the Supreme Court of law
in the kingdom, and has also the exclusive power
to try impeachments. In legislative matters, "three
peers may wield all the authority of the House, and
forty members constitute a quorum in the House
of Commons."
In America the Iouse of Representatives has
the exclusive right of originating all measures for
raising revenue, and the exclusive power of im-
peachment. The Senate has the exclusive right
to ratify treaties and confirm executive appoint-
ments, and try impeachments. But neither House
has general authority to punish for contempt, nor
can either do any business without the presence of
a majority of its members.

A Parliament is convened by summons from
the Queen. When so convened, each House has
the right to adjourn its proceedings as it sees
fit. The Queen, however, may at any time ad-
journ or, as it is called, prorogue it, ,il..:.., _. she
may reconvene it immediately. The effect of a

By two important acts of Parliament passed in 1884, the membership of the House of Commons was increased to 670, and the electorate
(that is, the number of those privileged to vote) increased from 3,000,000 to 5,000,000. Four-fifths of these 5,000,00oo are "house-holders."
t The qualifications ou a voter depend upon the laws of the State of which he is an inhabitant. (Constitution. Art. I., Sec. 2, Ch. i.)
No State, however, can deny or abridge the right ot citizens to vote on account of race. color, or previous condition of servitude. (Art. XV.,
Sec. i.) While some of the States have imposed property conditions, the ordinary qualifications are in regard to sex, age, and residence.




prorogation is to stop all business; and upon re-
assembling, each House must begin its work anew,
except as to impeachment trials or the judicial
matters pending in the House of Lords as the Su-
preme Court. The Queen may also dissolve the Par-
liament, the effect of a dissolution being to bring it to
an absolute end; and then a new Parliament must

repudiate that policy by returning a majority of
its opponents, who thus assume the reins of gov-
ernment. The House of Lords is continuous, its
only new members being the newly-elected Scottish
peers, newly-created English peers, or those who
fill the vacancies occasioned by death of Irish or
English lords.

_- .7 -


be summoned and the members of the House of
Commons elected as before. The duration of a Par-
liament depends upon enactments, and, unless dis-
solved, it may, under the present law, run for seven
years. When dissolved, there is no specified time
for convening another. The annual supplies of
money for the public service, voted by Parliament,
necessitate at least one session every year. In
speaking of prorogationn" and "dissolution" by
the Crown, it is to be understood that the
Crown means the Ministry." When the admin-
istration of a ministry meets with dissatisfaction,
and a vote of "want of confidence" is passed by
Parliament, the Ministry are expected to resign or
" dissolve the Parliament, and thus, by bringing
about a new election, enable the people of the
kingdom to testify their support of the policy of
the Ministry, by returning to the House of Com-
mons the friends of the old administration, or to

A Congress can not extend beyond two years,
and upon its expiration all public matters before
it fall to the ground except impeachment trials in
the Senate. It is required to assemble at a stated
time at least once in every year, and the President
may call an extra or special session of both Houses,
or either of them, when deemed advisable. He
is also authorized to adjourn a session when the
Houses can not agree upon a question of adjourn-
ment. The termination of a Congress puts an
end to the House of Representatives; the members
of the new House, however, are at once ready to
organize, having been elected by the people the
preceding fall. The Senate is continuous; only
one-third of its membership being changed with
every Congress.

The House of Commons is practically the Parlia-
ment. Its majority controls the ministry, and it can

* From a photograph by G. W. Wilson & Co., Aberdeen, Scotland.




force the House of Lords into an agreement by
the threat of creating new peers. This power of
the Lower House, therefore, proves that the com-
monalty of the kingdom really run the government.
Each House of Congress is independent of the
other. Neither can be coerced. The Lower
House is chosen directly by the people, the upper
indirectly through the local legislatures of the
people. Neither represents a class; they both to-
gether represent the people of the republic, who,
in fact as well as in theory, run the government.

The power of Parliament is said to be "omnipo-
tent." Unlike the legislatures of many other
countries, it is bound by no fundamental charter
or constitution; but has itself the sole constitu-
tional right of establishing or altering th laws and



is thus declared: "The legislative authority of
Parliament extends over the entire kingdom, and
all its colonies and foreign possessions; and there
are no other limits to its power than the willing-
ness of the people to obey, or their power to resist."
To adopt the language of Sir Edward Coke,
its power "is so transcendent and absolute, that
it can not be confined, either for causes or per-
sons, within any bounds !" In short, Parlia-
ment can do everything which is not impossible !"

The power of Congress is limited by the Consti-
tution. Beyond the written provisions of that
instrument it can not go. It has no judicial power
to declare the extent of its legislative power. The
judiciary reads the laws made by Congress in the
light of the Constitution, and declares to be void

7'i-jj ,,

I, [441


government of the empire." So far trom being all statutes that do not come within the limits of
bound by constitutional restrictions, it is constantly constitutional authority. Such statutes have no
altering the Constitution itself. The House of force.
Lords, as the Supreme Court, can overturn the
decisions of subordinate judges, and thus one of the Enough has been said, perhaps, to show that the
branches ofParliament has the final power to sustain Queen has little real power. She can declare
the very laws which it helped to enact. Its power war, but the ministry does it for her. Hence the
From a photograph by G. W. Wilson & Co.. Aberdeen, Scotland.


power is that of Parliament. She is supposed to
have a "veto" power over parliamentary legisla-
tion; but she never exercises it. Her privileges
extend to her private revenue and personal secur-
ity. She receives a large income, has noble pal-
aces and a brilliant court. It would be treason
to attempt her life. So also would it be treason
to attack other high persons in the realm.

The President can not declare war; Congress
can. He has a "veto power, and it is constantly
exercised. His salary is not munificent, he has
no magnificent palaces; his person is not sacred.
The President is simply an American citizen
elected by his fellow-citizens to fill the office for
four years. Treason in this country may be pun-
ished as Congress shall declare; but what shall
constitute treason is expressly declared by the
Constitution, as also what testimony shall be
necessary to convict a person accused.

There are other privileges enjoyed by the Royal
Family, the clergy, and the nobility of England,
but we need not refer to them. Whatever may be
the official and social distinction between a peer
and a commoner, they are both equal in the eye
of the law when they appeal to that law for
redress, or are brought before it to answer for
transgression of it. And day by day the privileges
of the upper classes in England are being cut
down; day by day the political rights of the com-
moners are being enlarged.
In the United States we have no privileged
classes; all are equal before the law." There
are no privileges to cut down; we have few
rights that need to be enlarged.

The English Constitution, with all its changes
and additions, is not expressed in formal compacts;
it is seen in the traditions, the customs, the un-
written securities of the people.
Our Constitution was expressed in a solemn cove-
nant among ourselves, and can be altered only as
provided in that instrument itself, t
The Constitution of England is not the creation
of a day or year. It is the growth of centuries, and
has been likened to an old and many-towered castle,
not constructed all at once after a regular plan, but
reared in different stages of the art and altered
from time to time as suited its successive owners.

The Constitution of the United States is com-
paratively the work of an hour. With the achieve-
merts of England and the experience of the world
before their eyes, our forefathers adopted the plans
most suited to their purposes, and reared the
structure of our government in colossal and sym-
metrical proportions.
Both Constitutions are the work of heroism and
of genius; and we may add the testimony of that
illustrious statesman, the late Premier of Great
Britain, the Right Honorable William E. Gladstone:

"As the British Constitution is thle most subtle organism which
has proceeded from progressive history, so the American Constitu-
tion is the most wonderful work ever struck off at any given time by
the brain and purpose of man."

As the people of Great Britain are the mightiest
nation of the Old World, so are we the mightiest
of the New.
Originally an isle, and with no protection but
the valor of her sons and her "crystal bulwarks of
defense," the expansion of England's territory and
power abroad was like the growth of her Constitu-
tion at home. Her possessions now stretch from
Canada to India, and from India to Australia, en-
abling her to boast that upon the sphere of her
dominions the sun never ceases to shine.
Starting upon our course, with an ocean to the
east and a wilderness on our west, we rapidly
pushed our way across a continent. Our flag now
floats from ocean to ocean, from the southern gulf
to the Arctic sea; and as the last rays of the de-
parting day gild for a moment the top of one of
our Alaskan peaks, the light of the coming morn
flashes upon the rocks of Maine !
While politically separate and distinct, the peo-
ple of both nations, in sympathy and in destiny,
are one.
Descended from the same grand heroes of the
past, in the glory of those common ancestors we
are all entitled equally to share. United by the
ties of consanguinity and language, of hallowed
memories and thought, in the achievements and
endeavors of the future- in England, in America,
wherever the restless spirit of English adventure
has fixed the standard of authority, or shall here-
after go to spread the civilization of our race may
we all be able to take an equal and an honorable
pride !

(To be concluded.)





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SUPPOSE that most of the readers of ST. NICHO-
LAS have seen an electric light. If there are
any that have not seen the light itself, they
must have seen pictures of night scenes in
which the light was represented. Well, this
particular method of illumination is compara-
tively new; it came into general use in the
year 1878,-just about eight years ago,- and
is therefore as old as the younger readers of
this magazine. When it came into use it gave
employment to a new class of workers; it cre-
ated a new and, all things considered, a very
good profession, one which it is well worth the,
while of our boys and young men to consider
before they choose a vocation in life,-I mean,
the profession of electrical engineering.
I said that the profession was a new one. This
is true, but the possible uses of electricity have
formed the subject of wide discussion by scien-
tific men during the last ten years. Already
we see wonderful results from their discoveries,
and there is no telling what these investiga-
tions, which they are still patiently pursuing,
may yet bring forth.
An electrical engineer is a man who has a
thorough knowledge of the powers of electric-
ity, so far as these are known, and the uses to.
which it has hitherto been put. He makes it
his business to manufacture electric machines
and lamps, to put them in place for such parties
as desire them, and to "run" them, or see that
they "go" rightly after they are put up.
In England, where the light is, of course, as.
much in use as it is in America, there are quite
a large number of electrical engineers. They
each take contracts individually for setting up
electric-lighting stations in factories or large
buildings, or in such public thoroughfares as
private property-owners or town corporations.
may decide to have illuminated by electricity.
These engineers purchase the mechanical ap-
pliances needed in one place or another, as they
bee fit. They buy a steam-engine from one
firm, a dynamo-machine fiom another, the wire
of another establishment, and, after fitting up
the apparatus, they teach some employee of the
establishment how to use it; and going to some-

5___ __





other customer who has decided to have the light
put on his premises, they go through the same
routine with him.
In our own country the business is carried on
differently. Here, there are three or four large
companies, each having its own peculiar style of
electric light, each taking contracts on its own
account to furnish all the machinery and appli-
ances needed, and each employing its own engi-
neers to do the work. It may be said, therefore,
that almost all the electrical engineers in this coun-
try are in the employ of one or another of these
The duties of an electrical engineer are after
this order :
If you have ever been in any of the large manu-
factories in our cities, you may have noticed that
while the machinery may have been perfect, and
the workers cheerful and industrious, the methods
of lighting the establishment were generally very
inadequate. It is in just such places that the elec-
tric light is found to be most useful. Let us sup-
pose, therefore, that our young electrical engineer
goes to such an establishment, the proprietors of
which have decided to substitute the electric light
for the common gas. The first thing the engineer
does when he goes to the factoryisto "locate," or de-
termine, the number of lamps that will be required.
Then he estimates the amount and proper size of
the wire that will be required to supply the lamps
with the current; the size of the dynamo that will
be required, the amount of steam-power required
to run it,-in short, he makes an estimate of every-
thing that will be needed. He tells the proprie-
tors of the factory the sum for which the company
will contract to do the work. If the estimate is
satisfactory, the contract is given, and our young
engineer takes full charge of the work until the
light is in complete working order. The engi-
neer has, of course, obtained all his materials
from the company with which he is connected,
has employed its skilled workmen, and, after the
light is in good working order, he teaches some
one, selected by the proprietors of the factory,
how to run" it, and that is the end of that
There are two roads to take if you wish to be-
come an electrical engineer, and at the beginning
of each one of them I think I see a little sign-
board, on which, in good, plain letters, is inscribed,
Hard work! "-while far ahead the roads meet,
and there, faintly outlined on another board, I see
the word, Success "
Although this occupation of electrical engineer-
ing is so new, there are three colleges in our coun-
try where the theoretical part of the profession is
taught, namely : The Stevens Institute of Tech-

nology, at Hoboken, New Jersey; the University
of Pennsylvania; and the Massachusetts Insti-
tute of Technology. There are other schools, but
these are the best known. If a young man has
gone through the theoretical and partially practi-
cal training to be had in either of these institutions,
he does not require a great deal of actual experi-
ence in doing the work itself to fit him for under-
taking almost any task pertaining to the calling.
But some boys may not be able to spare the
time or pay the money for this collegiate part of
the training. In that case, they endeavor to find
employment in one of the factories of the great
companies I have mentioned. To obtain admis-
sion, however, they must be bright, they must give
good promise in the taste they have for mechanical
pursuits, as well as in their habits, that they are
suited for the profession they seek to enter. Hav-
ing obtained an entrance, they begin as ordinary
employees, 1. ;,i,- ,1. simplest kind of work or even
drudgery; then they are transferred from one de-
partment to another, learning a little at each step
they take; until, finally, they have a good knowl-
edge of the manufacturing branch of the profession.
From there they should go to the laboratory,
where they obtain the scientific knowledge of the
business. To know how the different parts are
put together is not of itself sufficient; they must
be able to tell why they are put together in that
particular way; it is just that knowledge which
makes them electrical engineers.
Then they are sent out as assistants to the
various electric-lighting stations or are temporarily
placed in charge of plants which have just been
established, and which some amateur engineer is
learning how to run. Finally they may be put in
charge of a lighting station,-that is, a building
from which the lighting power is furnished for the
lamps in the immediate neighborhood; and lastly,
they may become members of the engineering
corps, and put up the electric lights for people in
the manner I have described.
Let me enlarge a little in regard to the appren-
ticeship a boy has to serve in this business.
First of all, keep in mind that it is a new occupa-
tion, and in its present state, at least, it is a con-
stantly advancing business. Discoveries are made
in it yearly,-one might almost say monthly,-
and it is being developed in so many different
directions that those who are engaged in it must
have very active intellects in order to keep pace
with what is going on. To use the words of a very
competent authority, you will have to work hard
all day and study all night." It is not like an old-
established business, in which what is to be learned
is known beforehand, but an occupation where your
neighbor, who is a harder student than you are,


may come across some highly valuable discovery
or useful hint which could not be found "in the
books," but is none the less valuable on that ac-
One part of the work is in the laboratory. It is
there where the machines used in the business are,
" thought out," where they are designed, tested,
and made ready for use. An engineer, for example,
may have put so many pounds of soft iron in con-
junction with so many pounds of copper wire, of
such a size, and he may think, from the knowledge
he has at that time acquired, that they will pro-
duce such and such magnetic results. After put-
ting them together, he finds that they do not come
up to the standard he has in mind, and so he has
to begin all over again.
It is said, also, that the sizes of the wire used and
the proportion of one part of the mechanism to
another is a matter of very nice calculation, be-
cause any lack of proportion entails a constant
expense in running the light, which, in a year,
would amount to a considerable sum.
The factory is the place where the machines are
put up and run. The student, when he enters
there, either from the college or the laboratory, fol-
lows up what he has been learning, and sees some
of the practical operations of his labor. The sta-
tion I have already mentioned. Though the work
there is, in its way, important, a thoroughly quali-
fied electrical engineer is too far advanced to stay
there any length of time. He needs to go to work
as a maker of the machines, and to strive to invent
contrivances to make them cheaper or better. If
he remained at the station, his duty would be to
see that the machines were taken care of, to prop-
erly make the circuits with the machines, to watch
them while they run, and to keep them in good
In considering the chances of obtaining employ-
ment, it must be borne in mind that the three large

electric-light companies may be said to control the
business. In some cities in the United States all
three of the companies are in operation, but in the
smaller cities and in the towns only one company
is represented, the territory on which they work
having been previously bought by them. The
light is being constantly introduced in new places,
and, after a time, when the scientific men have
found some method by which it can be made
cheaper, we shall doubtless have it in our houses,
and shall miss the grave, quiet gasman, with the
mysterious book, who comes to our dwellings once
a month to look at the meter."
This is a good profession for a boy with a taste
for mechanics, and, as I have intimated, it is cer-
tain to become a better one year by year. Start-
ing at low wages, say from three to six dollars a
week, it would seem to be a boy's own fault if he
did not work up in the business." There are a
few electrical engineers that are now receiving five
thousand a year; but the great majority get much
less than this sum. From fifteen hundred to five
thousand dollars a year would, I believe, be a fair
statement of the salaries they receive.
But in the present condition of things, it would
seem best for a boy, or a young man bent on suc-
ceeding in this occupation, to identify himself with
one of the three great companies, the Edison, the
Brush, or the Weston. Especially is this true if his
principal aim is to get a large salary in the quickest
possible space of time. If he goes first with one
company and then with another, he can not hope
to do as well; and, indeed, he might pursue that
policy to such an extent as to be looked upon as
a sort of electrical tramp, in whom there dwelt
no settled purpose, and who is therefore of no
value. Each system has its peculiarities. Let
the youth who aspires to be an electrical engineer
select the one he deems the best and then master
it thoroughly,-as the boys say, "from a to z."








YOrNG Archibald Albert, an orderly boy,
Once had, to his very great pleasure and joy,
An autograph-album presented to him.
Its pages were neat and its covers were trim.
Within its gay bindings of superfine leather
He promptly endeavored to gather together
The names of his every relation and friend,
Till the book should be filled from beginning to

But soon he perceived, with surprise and dismay
And disapprobation, the very strange way
In which people wrote in his elegant book,-
He found it distressing to give it a look.
Some autographs proved such a tangle and scrawl
You scarce could determine their letters at all;
While others were crooked, and some seemed
to stray
To the edge of the page, as if running away.
Some looked as if caught in a terrible gale;-
His grandfather's trembled; Grandmother's was pale;

His father's was blotty and straggled awry;
His mother wrote nicely,-he begged her to try.

He pondered the matter, then purchased another
Fine album, as bright and complete as the
And carefully copied the names, every one,
As neatly and fairly as it could be done.
With every angle and every line
Drawn out like a copy, correctly and fine.
With every i and with every t
Neatly dotted and crossed as they needed to
His letters were regular, even, and nice,
His capitals stately, exact, and precise.

Then Archibald Albert, in viewing the whole,
Breathed a sigh of relief from his orderly soul,
And exclaimed to himself: "It is better, by
Than letting each one write his own autograph! "

.. --... .

ri .- ,,: ..
BIPED: "Are n't those horns in your way' "
QUADRUPEDS: "We don't mind 'ein. How do you get on with that bill?"





WE all know that we have brains, but, beyond a
general idea that they are the seat of the senses,
most of us are wofully ignorant as to what they
do or how they do it. Now I am going to tell
you a few simple things about your brains, which
I think will be both interesting and valuable.
In the first place, the brain consists of five
principal divisions, which attend to all the business
affairs of the rest of the body. They are the
Cerebrum, or Big Brain; the Cerebellum, or Lit-
tle Brain; the Medulla Oblongata, or Life Depart-
ment; the Pons Varolii, or Bridge; the Central
Ganglia, or Gang. The big words are the scientific
and correct names; the others are those I have
given them for convenience. Now, each of these
parts has a separate and distinct set of duties to
perform, and each is divided again into many other
parts, which in turn have their particular details to
attend to : just as it is in any large establishment.
Before telling you what each part of the brain
has to do, I must explain that it is made up of
two different but closely interwoven substances,-
the gray matter and the white matter. The gray
matter consists of a lot of extremely tiny round
balls, or cells, in which nervous force is collected
and stored up. The white matter consists of a lot
of little strings, or tubes, which carry the nervous
force from the gray matter in every direction.
What nervous force is, or where it comes from, no
man in the world has ever yet found out, but it is
the force that the Great God has put in us which
makes us live and think and move.
The Big Brain (mostly gray matter) is that
part which does all the thinking. Like the head
of a large establishment, it collects all the infor-
mation, makes all the plans, and gives all the
The Little Brain is somewhat in the position of
a foreman in a workshop; it sees that certain
orders are properly carried out. It directs the
motions of the arms, legs, and body. It does not
give them motion, for they would move without
its help, but it tells them ahow to move. The Big
Brain might give the legs an order to walk, but
if the Little Brain did not guide and direct them,
they would go staggering about and you would
tumble down. If you wanted to pick up some-
thing from the floor or the table, and you had no
Little Brain, your hands would go groping about
and would not reach it. It is to such matters
that the Little Brain has to attend.

The Medulla, or Life department, as I call it, is
a very important organ in a man's brain; for, with-
out it, life would cease to exist. If the Medulla is
broken, a man dies at once; but if the whole of
the rest of the brain be taken away, so long as the
Medulla remains uninjured, life will go on.
What the Medulla has to do is to look after our
breathing, or, in other words, to keep our lungs
constantly pumping air in and out. It also has
to see to the heart and blood-vessels,-that they do
their pumping of blood to every part of the body
and back again to the heart in a regular and vig-
orous manner. These are its principal duties,
though it has some other minor affairs to attend
to, such as the movement of our lips, tongue,
and throat, so that we may speak and swallow
properly. But its chief work is to keep the lungs
and heart going all the time, night and day, from
the hour we are born until we die. If it neglects
its duty for one moment, then there is an end of
us. Now, although this organ is so important, it
is a very little bit of a fellow, only an inch and a
half long, and weighs but a quarter of an ounce.
Still, there it sits at its post at the base of the
skull, just where it joins the spine, never sleep-
ing for sixty, eighty, or ninety years, with its
fingers on a lot of thread-like nerves leading all
over the body, by which it sends telegraphic mes-
sages to the lungs, the heart, the lips, the tongue,
the throat; always guarding our life, and keeping
the pumps and machinery in motion. It is very
much like the engineer in a large manufactory or
great steamship. It has nothing to do with
what they are manufacturing or whither the vessel
is bound, but only to keep the fires burning and
the engine going till the end of the voyage, when
it draws its fires, and that is called death. So
you see the Medulla is a very important organ.
The Bridge is assisted in its work by two organs
called the Eye Lobes, or Optic Lobes. What these
fellows have to do is to run a kind of central tele-
graph or telephone office-a receiving and dis-
tributing department, to which all messages are
first sent, and then forwarded; or perhaps it would
be more correct to say, where the wires of different
lines are connected just as they are with our city
telephone companies, for the different organs do
not run independent lines between one another.
Besides which, I have a fancy that the Big Brain
likes to have a look at all messages which pass,
so that it may know what is going on. Now, a




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moment's reflection will show you that if this Bridge
department is out of order all business will come
to a standstill. Each department may attend to
its duties, but nothing comes of it. Medulla may
be working away at the bellows, all the Gang may
be ready for work, and Little Brain ready too, but
no orders reach them from Big Brain,- and Big
Brain receiving no demands from the sub-depart-
ments thinks everything is all right and does noth-
ing. For example, the stomach may be running
out of fuel, and may try to telegraph to that effect,
but the Bridge is out of order, no message is de-
livered, and no one knows anything about the
VOL. XIII.-20.

matter till
all the fires
go out, and
the whole
To prove what this organ does, the experiment
has been tried on many animals of removing it
from the brain, leaving all the rest uninjured.
The animal so treated did not seem to suffer any
pain nor care about anything, but just sat perfectly
still until it starved to death. It seemed to have lost
all impulse and desire. And I am inclined to think







-, I


that it is a good healthy condition of this bundle
of nerves that gives men energy, push, and dash;
for how often we find a man with plenty of brains,
and capable of doing great deeds, who does not go
ahead. It is more than probable that, in such cases,
the messages are not being delivered promptly
between the departments in his brain.
The Central Ganglia, or Gang as I have named
them, are five little gray lumps varying in size from
a pea to a pin's head. The Ganglia are nerve-
centers, and are strung on the nerves somewhat like
shot on a fishing-line, or perhaps they are more
like junctions on a railroad, where several lines
meet. Their business is to store up certain kinds
of knowledge which the Big Brain has studied
out. There are many things we habitually do
that would seem to require a great deal of
thought, and yet we do them with perfect accuracy,
although we are all the time thinking of something
entirely different. I speak of such actions as walk-
ing, dancing, skating, riding, playing the piano,
and the like. When we first begin to learn to skate
or to play on a musical instrument, we can think of
nothing else at the moment we are so engaged;
but having once learned we can do either, whenever
we please, while our minds are wholly occupied
with other matters. This is the kind of knowledge
these little Ganglia store up, so that they can at-
tend to this or that duty ever afterwards without
troubling the Big Brain about it. They become, as
it were, his confidential clerks, agents, or assistants.

So we find our brain is like the business office
of a large manufactory or warehouse. And we can
imagine some such scene as this enacted in the
head and body of a man living in New York city,
as he goes about his business for the day:
There, in the large domed upper office of the
man's head, sits gray Big Brain, thinking, plan-
ning, arranging for the wants and welfare of the
rest of the body. Presently an idea strikes him-
he telephones down to the Ganglia department:
Take the body down to the Battery and from
there to Union Square, as quickly as you can, and
don't bother me about it. I have other things to
think of."
"All right, sir," answers the particular Gang
who has charge of the legs department, as he tele-
graphs to Little Brain to look after the walking,
and to the Bridge to hurry up the Life department,
and off the whole body goes. All this time Big
Brain sits quietly in his vaulted office arranging
his plans. By and by the body reaches the desired
spot at the Battery, and Big Brain telephones the
Life department to put his speaking apparatus in
All right," is telephoned back.

Then Big Brain, by the aid of the Life depart-
ment, communicates his business to the people he
has come to see, and is ready to start again.
Suddenly he hears "tingle, tingle," at the tele-
Well, what is it? he inquires.
It is a message from the Stomach; it wants fill-
ing up.
Bother the Stomach !" cries Big Brain; it
gives me more trouble than all the rest of the
concern put together. Tell the Stomach it must
The Stomach growls, I '11 make you pay for
this by and by."
Then there are more messages to the Gang
department, to Little Brain, the Bridge and Life
departments, and off goes the whole establishment
to Union Square. After a while, Big Brain having-
finished his business, telephones down:
"Take the Stomach to dinner."
The dining-room being reached, Big Brain
telephones to the Life department to set the
chewing and swallowing apparatus in motion,
which is immediately done; and the Stomach is
filled, while Big Brain goes on thinking and think-
ing, in his big office at the top of the house.
I shall not enlarge on the doings of Big Brain
and his subordinates, as I think I have said enough
to show you how the brain works; but I shall only
ask you to take a careful look at our picture. In
the larger head you will see the positions of the
different organs, and a rude indication of the vari-
ous offices performed by them. At the top is gray
old Big Brain giving orders to a little member of
the Gang, who, book in hand, is referring to some
previous and perhaps half-forgotten order he has.
received. Around Big Brain are his books, maps,
papers, etc., while close at hand are telephones
ready to communicate with the four other depart-
ments. In Little Brain's department you see him
directing the machinery. In the Life department
Medulla is hard at work. In the Pons department
you see the superintendentof this division, Bridge,
with his assistants working away at telegraphic
machines which operate innumerable wires that
communicate with every part of the establishment;
in the office of the Gang there are three little
clerks hard at work, and one listening at the tele-
phone, whilst an empty stool marks the place of
another who has gone upstairs to interview the
head of the firm, Mr. Big Brain.
In the lower corner you will see an outline dia-
gram showing the positions of the various parts of
the human brain.
And now--through this little allegory-I hope
you know more about the contents of your knowl-
edge-box than you did before.



'COTrEf .^OO1E '- pharedZ

ML -tothe fl n m p ie-wen ato ,t ..
Said simple imon, to fie pie-marn: If plumS gvewv on .E listle. <'
"ILet me taste your ware:' He prficke& his fingers very mudih
Vhiicl" Inade poor Jnmort whiStle.
said the pieman" to Simple Simon: ime Simor went ac shing,
Show me first your -penny; lNor to eatch a -whale,
aid Simple $iion to ihe pieman.: And al L the water h -fisked in
"I.TIee;a, I haven't any." WVa in, hi mother'. pail.



,I ,.
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--~~'-~ 71

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p~III, -

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'F *'i

[GH up on one of the
of thi Blue Rid ge Moun-

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k r,,: : i | -,l-,.:. ,,i [* ,[-,:




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snare the partridge in the woods, and catch with a
horse-hair loop the wily old trout that was too wise
to bite at a hook.
One day, when the boys were alone in the log-
cabin which was their home, they heard their dog
Snap growling and barking furiously in the snow
outside. Both boys sprang to the door and saw
that Snap had cornered a wild cat near the chicken-
coop. The dog, however, knew the nature of wild
cats, and did not care to risk too close an encoun-
ter. But when the cat spied the boys and the
gun in Joe's hand, it sprang from the coop and,
dashing down a small ravine near the house, dis-
appeared from sight before Joe had a chance to
fire at it.
': I tell you, Joe," said Jack; that 's the very
old chap we 've heard caterwauling up in the
woods lately. And that 's the meaning of so many
partridge feathers down in the hollow, too. Let's
see if we can catch the prowler."
'"All right," said Joe; "I '11 get the trap, and
you must bring along one of those partridges we
snared yesterday, for bait. We can follow the
tracks easily enough in this snow."
After shutting Snap in the cabin so that he could
not follow them and spoil their sport, the boys
started on the trail of the wild cat, Joe carrying
the gun, and Jack the trap and partridge. After
trudging along for a mile or so through the snow,
across the hollow and over fallen logs of birch and
hemlock, they came to a mass of overhanging
rock, below which was a rocky shelf. On this pro-
jection they noticed a break in the rocks, and there
the tracks were lost.
"That 's the hole that leads to its den," said
Joe, jumping down from a log to the rocky shelf.
" Come right along with the trap, Jack."
His brother was soon at his side, and, clearing
the snow away from the mouth of the hole, they
placed the trap there, prying its jaws wide apart
with a heavy stick, and making the chain fast to a
big hemlock near by. Then they covered the trap

with a little dirt, and, having tied the partridge
just over it, they turned toward home.
They had scarcely left the spot, however, when
they were met by Snap, who had somehow escaped
from his prison, and had lost no time in following
At the same moment the wailing cry of the wild
cat sounded almost in their ears from the direction
of the den. The startled boys stood still; but
Snap, not pausing even to greet his masters,
bounded past them with a sudden deep growl.
Here, Snap--stop, sir called Jack, who
knew that if the dog met the wild cat there would
be a terrible fight. But Snap was not inclined to
stop, and the boys sprang after him. Just at the
edge of the overhanging rock, Jack, by throwing
himself at full length, managed to seize the eager
dog by the collar; while Joe, running by them,
dropped on his knees, and brought his gun to
his shoulder. There, at the mouth of the cave,
stood the wild cat, snarling savagely as it caught
sight of the boys, while its short tail stood straight
out, and its furry back bristled with rage.
Quick as the flash from the rifle, Joe aimed be-
tween the gleaming eyeballs and fired,-just as
Snap, breaking loose from Jack, followed the bul-
let, and seized the wild cat by the throat. But
Joe's marksmanship had not failed him, and the
wild cat was already dead. As soon as Joe had
reloaded the gun, the boys jumped after the dog,
and found, what they had not noticed in their
excitement, that the wild cat was firmly held in the
trap by the fore legs. It was doubtless the snapping
of the cruel iron jaws that had brought forth the
cry from the fierce animal that had so soon fallen
a victim to its greed.
When the boys returned to the cabin, bringing
the wild cat with them, their father and mother were
much surprised and delighted at the pluck of their
sons. This was the boys' first exploit of the kind,
and they were rather proud that the credit of hav-
ing slain the wild cat belonged to themselves alone.



NED goes to the circus with Grandpa,
And sits on a nice cushioned seat,
Where he beams upon the performers
With a smile, confiding and sweet.

But after a while he grows restless,
And then he softly observes:
" If these are preserve seats, Grandpa,
'-I ., don't they pass the preserves ?"




417 1-1,1

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>i~i '~~w nb13

1- -' 7i 17 i jthe iotkerz

Robbie orn


il-111. 1 -17 t Dng Hujh inE ~ 4
'I Chuckle tMo1Mo '.
I Kr ~ nd wifhh6.1oF~e6ThcrU { ~iI
icklesl!ickl to 4 n f
~ 1d rmyqj~'r~imen
T"~k(ke odr 3out-cr~
nd drive thejroung rbot




Shape old
lacla cladc
aScid he I a1uw
SSaid she "
l k.

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en. met ac discontented duck
q! quack! quack! quack!
ys have the very -worst of lack
SqLuach! quack!1
Of happiness I never lack!
! duck! cluck

But what do you do when it ,rcins all day ?
64 Quack! quctak! quack! '"
I find a. cosy corner coad there I stay I
Clucxk! dclku cluck! "
"And-T hat do 1you do -when the sun is hot ?
S Quck I quack uacK!
My chicks and I find at shady 5pot !
w Cluck i clk! duck !"
Axnd what W.ll you, do when you're killed to be eaten?
Quach I quack! quack! "
I 11 make a potpie thdt carnt be beaten!
ClucKl cluck! cluck! "

.* -- -

S, cLU.11



IF I w e F b I '
I ,_ ,' "'' ~

'' 'I -'

Sf N.?. ." 1 -': --,i

F- I were February, 1 .11 tell o, what 1 '4 do

I 'd banish January and start the world anew;
I 'd say I did n't like his gush and wishing joy
Ito all.

My choice would be for sleet and slush and giving
folks a fall.
I 'd give the fost and icicles, a tha, and then

a freeze ;
I 'd change from skates to bicycles, and laugh
to hear them sneeze;
I 'd send the housetop avalanche a tum bling on
their heads,
And dash between unsteady legs on bob and
single sleds.
*' 'I K -1^ -rH E uL ri' i.

And when I 'd fully carried out my comical
IF I were February, I '11 tell you what I 'd do,

I 'd make up for y tricks and start the world anks, with

tender valentines.
But'd say I did nt like hisbruary, gentle friendishing joy
proceed to a letter from our little fiend "Bee,"
describing would be for sleet and slush and giving

folks a fall.CK-INTHE-ULPIT All yourchildre
com'd give to you with quest and icicles, a thawdiscoveries, and then

should like to tell you of something I saw last Sep-
a freeze ;

member. I had som skates to bicycles, a large fern-
to hear them sneeze;

glass, withsend the housetop avalanche a-tumbling cocoon
their heads,s quite small, an one night he bolted.
His new dash between unsteady legs on bob and
single sleds.o thi e did with hi old one

He ate it up I saw him. His manner of eating
was quite peculiar; he lifted his head up and
seemed when I d fully carried out y comicallow.

But he persevered until all had disappeared. I

Sd make up fori my Natricks and pranks, with
as this r eorded of caterpillars. s it generally
But as I 'm not February, gentle friends, we'll
proceed to a letter from our little friend "Bee,"
describing what seems to have been

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT : All your children
come to you with questions and discoveries, and I
should likre to tell you of something I saw last Sep-
tember. I had some caterpillars under a large fern-
glass, with the hope of seeing them spin cocoons.
One was quite small, and one night he molted."
His new dress was very bright and handsome;
but what do you think he did with his old one?
He ate it up I saw him. His manner of eating
was quite peculiar; he lifted his head up and
seemed to find the hairs very hard to swallow.
But he persevered until all had disappeared. I
do not find in my Natural History any such habit
as this recorded of caterpillars. Is it generally

known ? I wish I knew more about such things;
but I am ill a great deal, and can not run about
very much. Your loving little friend, BEE.


JUDGING from this letter from your friend
C. F. H., I should say that animals as well as
human folk are accustomed to fidget considerably
about the weather. Many plants also have this
peculiarity, I 'm told.
DEAR JACK: I wish to follow my letter about the tree-toad with
a few facts about other natural barometers. To begin with, many
of the wonderful appliances by which we are enabled to determine
what the weather will be to-morrow or next day are of com-
paratively recent invention, and it is within only a few years that
we have enjoyed their benefits. How do you suppose, then, our
forefathers managed without them? They turned to nature herself,
and in many cases were enabled to form opinions almost as correct
in the main as those obtained now with absolute certainty by
machinery or carefully prepared instruments. And nature is not
altogether neglected to-day, as many a farmer does not possess a
barometer or even a thermometer; and if we go out to some locali-
ties in the country, away from the great centers, we shall see men
consulting natural weather prophets. Thus, the birds in their flight
and departure foretell the coming cold, and the clouds do the same,
so that often by looking up at the sky the farmer can judge about
how much of a frost to expect. When he sees the swallows fly-
ing very low, skimming along very near the earth, the farmer looks
at the clouds, and declares that he "must hurry and get that hay in,
for it 's going to rain."
I once arranged a miniature artificial lake, really to form a moat
around an island in the center, made of rocks and covered with
living moss. The island was a prison-house for numerous snails,
and slugs; as a rule, they remained concealed in the castle, but sev-
eral hours before a rain, they would come out and crawl up the
leaves of the plants, and so I always knew when it was wise to
take an umbrella when I went out walking. Some snails prophesy
rain several days in advance, and their bodies seem to undergo cer-
tain changes in preparation for the welcome moisture; and I
recently read in a newspaper that the natives of the Chiloe Islands
make use of a curious natural barometer to tell when bad weather
is coming. As described to the Linnean Society of New South
Wales, it is the shell of a crab. The shell is nearly white in dry
weather, but exhibits small red spots on the approach of moisture.
In the rainy season it becomes completely red. And in the same
paper it was stated that a scientist had recently drawn attention
to the human ear as a barometer. He mentioned the sense of
pressure on the ear when a train enters a tunnel, or on rapidly
descending a mine, and declared his ear was sensitive in this way
to a very slight variation in the moisture of the air. But, of course,
the change must be a sudden one, to be felt. Yours truly,
C. F. H.
MY DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT : I suppose you will think me very
ignorant when I tell you that I don't know how to make pop-corn.
I don't know in what state to get the corn. In England it isn't
made much. I am very fond of ST. NICHOLAS. I have taken it for
a year. I like American magazines much better than English; they
have much nicer pictures and stories. I should like to know more
about America and American children. I have three coins from
America,--one dime, which is very pretty, I think; a five-cent bit,
and a three-cent. I hope this letter is not too long to print, and that
some American child will tell me how to make pop-corn.
T remain yours faithfully, C. H.

I HEARD the Little School-ma'am saying, the other
day, that a bottle, to which a large number of
oysters had attached themselves, was fished up not
long ago by a Baltimore oysterman, and that inside




the bottle was a fish too large to get out of Several hands were raised: but most conspicuous among
It. ., I ll ... :. J ,.. i ... .. ' ...i . ed fist.
th ,, tl.i : i, . 1- : . ,.,,[: _. I .. ,,- . , r . ..... '" I said.
tno*-..I,, r [ II,-J. ,. L ll.: "; I .i ill I ," w as the response.
ex t.I ii i, .i il. .il : 1- L ; 'o. "' t my labors with that
th i .: '.. i sful.
to i .i1.: ,.1l r .. I, se in which I teach
ge 11 .. .,l l..rl. ," ", ,,, ,., ,,ds a fine view of the
1 i i t -I-, i \ .. ', : and ofthegreat Inter-
CO.1.,1 i' i ,- .... .. '" national Bridge.
ou11: i- li N M ,Yours truly,
ha .. : .. .. H .

gre ..... l:. L: a ', this month,
Sfoes, done up after the manner of a nosegay, so
ha MO' 0

A HORRIFIED LITTLE SCHOOL-A'A. to speak. He thinks that by the aid of your natu-

instead, a teacher of girls and boys. I wish to tell the readers of your Vy SOUS countenances. He says, moreover,
SI b ncles and their auntsin identifying the various
irln te I

F. 44 "
4,' 17, : , ,
A M '. . ._. .-

.... inll i

i'j, ;I' T 1 'C-
"," 5 ',

ate to say that he-

foes, done up after the manner of a nosegay, so
A HORRIFIED LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM. to speak. He thins that by the aid of your nat-
B O, Jne 6 al istoies any of u bright bos and girls
this ee. feel orally ound to aid their ounge voters ad

gvig t to call for thir ideas on this sjec Hve a by or uncles and teir auits, in identifying theo say that heos
girlout ofin the bottle while e was thinking aouta it. so membe portraits of yothis queer collection of ienads and faces.

girl in the room," I said, who can tell me just what grammar is ? members of this qlueer collection of heads and faces.


A FRIEND of ST. NICHOLAS, after reading Mr. Manson's "Archi-
tect" paper, in the January number, writes us that there are excel-
lent schools of architecture in-this country in which both the boys
and girls can receive instruction. The course of architecture at Cor-
nell University is a special branch which quite a number of young
ladies are pursuing with excellent and highly practical results.

WE have received two more interesting letters in reply to Arthur
Dart's communication in the December number concerning curve-
pitching. The first comes from a lieutenant of artillery, who asserts
that even cannon-balls curve; while the second correspondent ex-
plains with a diagram why the ball, if it rotates, has to curve either
" in or "out." Every boy reader who can understand the subject,
therefore, will be interested in these letters.



DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: It has been some years since I have taken
a hand in a game of ball, but I read Mr. Harvey's story in your
October number with interest, all the same, and found nothing at
all strange in it respecting curves," although in my boyhood days
pitchers knew nothing of such things. But I have heard my son
speak of them often enough.
If Arthur Dart's father made the subject a study, he did so to
little purpose, and in these days no boy's mind should be put in
doubt as to whether "science wins."
You must know, then, that my profession has to do with pitch-
ing" ball, and i1. ;L.. we do not desire to do so, we pitch with a
mostdecided -.. every time; and when I say curve" here I
mean a curve to the right o. 1 ., .. I.. .. I When Itell
the boys that we can pitch i I ..' .. I .11 I .. .. steel weigh-
ing 2000oo pounds or more, and comply with Mr. Dart's "three-
stake" test every t.... .. i ..i I. .I think it a harder test than
if tried with their I..11 I .,r 1 .. i must have the stakes pro-
portionately farther apart, as my pitching is to range some ten miles,
more or less.
Without going into an explanation of the reasons for the existence
of such curves, I think that I can readily place the boys upon the
way to a demonstration of the fact,- for they all spin tops. Given a
top, with a hard, fine point, to spin upon a flat, smooth surface, such
as a plate of glass, and the fact of the "curve-pitching" will be
practically demonstrated, and in a:. .....: .. r 1. -...r ii.,i
the friction between the point and .. r 1, ..
one direction, and you will have a right-hand curve; spin it so as to
rotate in the opposite direction, and the result will be a left-handed
curve, -and these curves will always result from the rotation.
Rotation, then, is the secret, and that a ball pitcher can acquire
the necessary skill to give his ball a given rotation, and thereby
secure the desired "curve," seems perfectly simple and easy to be-
But to go back to the big balls, and the big guns with which
we pitch them.
We do not desire to "pitch with a curve," but as we are obliged
to give the ball roltalon in order to secure stability of flight, we must
of necessity "pitch with a curve," and to pitch or shoot well, we
always have to take the curve -which we call drift-into account.
All of your boy readers know what a rifle is, and as a rifle acts just
like the largest guns or cannon, we will consider it. In this country
all of our makers give their rifles a "right-handed twist," as can be
seen by looking at the bore.
Of course the ball rotates, or spins to the right, and the drift result-
ing is always to the right, and is considerably more than one would
imagine. Take, for instance, the army musket. In aooo yards, the
ball from a musket will drift off to the right more than 43 inches. In
other words, if you were firing at a target iooo yards off, with a
musket, and aimed so as to hit the bull's-eye without taking the
drift into account, you would miss it every time: the curve would
be so great that the ball which started out in a line over the "plate,"
as the base-ball saying is, would curve so much as to go quite be-
hind the batter.
In a rifle with a left-handed pitch to the .. 1.. result
would be just the reverse: the ball would curve tc i1.. i-.1, ... I would
do so every time. It can, therefore, readily be seen that the three-
stake test could be complied with, and that, too, in either direc-
tion. To test it in both directions, however, would require two

guns,- one with a right and the other with a left-handed twist, but
otherwise exactly alike, and using the same ammunition.
Your boys will no cd I..' .-.l -- i.: ... of 1ooo yards,--and I
-.- ... r .. -. ..: 11 would be very great,-
S.-.. r i. .." tiecurve that theycan ; .1. ,
i .ll ,11 i.. .. I, I -. "oldboys,"who do not:-'... :.t n>
that science will win," may takethe same view. It is only neces-
sary to point out the relative specific gravity of the different balls,
and I am ready to believe that a skillful pitcher can give his ball a
very decided "drift" or "curve," within a very short distance, and
may cause it to deviate either to the right or left at will, and also to
vary at will the natural curve due to gravitation.
I should also note the fact that our cannon-balls are elongated;
this, however, doesn't alter the fact of the drift," though it does
to some extent change its degree.
A. D. S.

PHILADELPHIA, November 30.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The question of "curved pitching" is
raised in the story of How Science Won the Game," in your Octo-
ber number, and the fact of its performance and the means to its
accomplishment duly set forth. In the December Letter-box, the
reality of the curve is re-asserted in the face of skeptical criticism;
yet its explanation as a physical problem is but vaguely suggested.
I shall not readily forget the chill autumn afternoon, some twelve
years ago, when in my first match game played on the grounds of
the Naval Academy, the reality of curved pitching was most for-
cibly and discouragingly brought home to me by three strikes and
out! The in curve" was no new thing as an inconstant feature
of the underhand throw "; but this was my first experience of the
"out curve," at least, as a matter under the control of the pitcher,
and not a mere unintended, accidental course of the ball. Obtain-
ing no help toward an explanation from those to whom I applied
(on the contrary, many assurances that it was a physical impossibil-
ity), I studied the subject and promptly arrived at an easy solution,
satisfactory to most persons with whom I have discussedit. Asthis
may be of interest to some of your readers, I take the liberty of pre-
senting it.
The ball in its flight is retarded in its forward motion by the resis-
tance of the air, which acts upon it precisely as though the ball were
at rest and the wind blowing against it at a rate equal to the motion
of the ball. This exerts a pressure on the front of the ball and a
friction on its sides, just as the water so manifestly does upon a ves-
sel. If the ball is merely moving straightforward, the friction is the
same on top and bottom, right and left, and the effect is only to slow
the forward motion. But if the ball rotates as well as moves forward,
we have changed relation -a part of the ball's surface is moving
against the air with .. i ...- .. ,.. the rest, as a diagram will
make clear. If the I.. I i. i ., enter of gravity) is moving
forward (let us say at the rate of one hundred feet per second), and
at the same time it is revolving so that points on its equator are
traveling around its center at an equal rate, it is evident that d is
traveling backward as fast as the ball, as a whole, moves forward;
while bis moving forward at its own rate /fits that of the center-
that is, twice as fast as c. As the friction of the air increases with the
velocity of the moving object, it must be greatest at b and least at d,
1 .. ii ... o at d under the conditions given. The b side of the
I '." 1 .1 retarded more than the center or any other part,
while the d side suffers no retardation. The result must be a curve
toward the retarded side. When the rotation is on a nearly vertical
axis, this effect will be at its maximum, and, according to the direc-
tion of its "twist," the ball will curve to the right or to the left--
"in or "out."
oofe.. 3.
>. Direction in which
ball is thrown.

S -oo f> Direction in -
.3 m which it will curve.

T I .: ri ... '. .,. . 5. 1 -., 7 , .. -. r I
st r J u lh ,i r .

is proportional in this case to the first power, the square, or the cube
of the velocity. These points can affect the question ofdegree only.
This is merely a solution as worked out by a boy, and possibly of
interest to other boys. Looking recently at a treatise on gunnery,
T .,.. 1,1. ,.1.. ,, .t far more fully and scientifically set forth, with
i i '..... f all the elements of the problem, in connec-
tion with the "drift" of a shot fired from a rifled cannon. Should
the above explanation seem sufficiently clear, I should be glad to
have it used as an anonymous communication to the Letter-box.
Very respectfully.






DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I like the story of the Fragile Palm Tree.
I think it is very funny. I like the composition of The Lion; it
is very nice. Mamma reads every word of you to me. I am seven
years old. My little sister is very much excited about the picture,
in the December number, of Santa Claus trying to get down the
chimney. Your affectionate reader PAULINE T.

We print this interesting letter from a Hungarian girl, just as she
wrote it, queer spelling, punctuation, and all.
HUNGAKI Appony, 3-12, 1885.
A ppony .. .. . :i. l .. 1. . .
to another castle that is a ruin now, it is surrounded by very old oaks.
On summer days we go there often, then I wish the trees could
speak and tell me all about her. We are six children my eldest
brother is x2 and I am Tn years, the youngest the darling of us
all, is a lovely baby brother ten months old he walked already a
month ago, and laughs always, he patters about all day long with
his little blue shoes but of course not quite alone.
I have been taking you since november 1885, but Mama gave
me the two binded volumes of last year. I love you very very much
indeed. What a pitty it comes only once every monthit seems etern-
ety to wait for the continuation.
I would be to happy if you would print my little letter in the
letterbox. Our favorite tale is "His own fault" Little lord
Fountleroy" seems very nice too and my little sister Fanny likes
"the Magic Watches." the best.
your deeply interested little reader THERESA APPONVI.
P. S. I like the letterboxes very much.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have written to you once before, but
have never seen my namein the Letter-box, so I will try again.
We have taken ..... .. .. ...i i.. i. and "hope
you will never die, '. ... .....g, when my
little sister Alice and I were reading you together, Alice said,
" What is home without ST. NICHOLAS? "
We have just had all our ST. NICHOLASES bound, and Papa has
bought a bookcase to put them and the Centiurys in; they do
look so bright and pretty. I am fifteen and Alice is twelve. I think
that Lena E. 1. is a very patriotic girl. I, too, like to read about
the Civil War. I think General Grant one of the bravest generals
the world has ever known.
I thought "His One Fault" was just splendid! I like all of
Trowbridge's stories, if I am a girl, and they are boys' stories.
Alice thinks the Brownies are so funny.
0... : .-.:.... lien she was sick and had not smiled all day, I got
the ..... which had come that day, and we looked it over
together; when we came to "The Brownies at the Sea-shore," she
commenced k' lI,,-Ti t i- il'-- I-lo seemed ever so much better.
I like the .. i .. NICHOLAS very much.
Hoping thatyou may be able to pint this letter, I remain,
Your constant reader, MARY L. B--

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write you a short letter,
as I have not seen any letter from this place since I have taken you.
I go to school every day, and slide down hill after school. I have
three pets,- a bird, a cat, and a pony. My pony's name is Jessie
My mamma and papa gave the ST. NICHOLAS to me three years
ago for a New Year's present, and I have taken it ever since.
Hoping you will print this letter. I remain,
Your faithful reader, NELLIE E. R-- .

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Here I am, far, far away from home!
Justthink, 4oo miles away from home! 1 . .,...
send my dear old ST. NICHOLAS, I feel-. .. .i.,,.. i.
my old home that greets me and make .-... i.. i .
my homesickness a little. It is now .1 .I . -
brought me for the first time a number of ST. NICHOLAS (we then
used to live in South Bend, Indiana), and I begged him to get it
for me every month; andever since I am always waiting anxiously
for the 25th of the month, to get my dear ST. NICHOLAS. 1 have
several volumes bound, and when I feel very homesick I go and sit

down and read in my dear ST. NICHOLAS, and it makes me feel all

I t April I have been here with my dear Grandma, and
shall i ,. 1 .,,. I . from
Eng 1 .. ..ding-
school for young ladies), also one trom Colorado, and they all think
that old ST. NICHOLAS is just the best and nicest book they know.

THESE lines are sent us as having been written by a little girl
twelve years old:

SEE the snow It's the first of the year.
Has it come with tidings of cheer
Of the happy Christmas and glad New Year?

Or have those little flakes so frail
Come to herald the winter gale,
And make heard the wind's hoarse wail?

The fields are covered with a downy white,
For the snow was gathering all last night,
When I was having dreams so '--i h

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been intending to write to you for
some time, and I have made up my mind to write to-day. 1 have
just finished reading the Christmas number, which I enjoyed very
much. Though I am a girl, I like to play ball, and often watch the
boys play. I was very much interested in the story, "How Science
Won the Game!" I am very fond of riding, and I have taken
some very long rides. One evening I started out riding on apony
that had been ridden by a lady only a few times, and had not been
ridden by any one for some time. He did not seem inclined to go
any fasterthan a walk, so I touched him lightly with my riding-whip.
He immediately stopped, and commenced bucking. I was so sur-
prised that I was thrown on the pony's ncclk, but did not fall. Luck-
ily my foot was in the stirrup, so I regained my seat, and tried gentle-
ness and persuasion. It was of no avail, so I gave him a severe cut
with the whip. He stopped again, and began to kick and tried to
throw me. I was determined not to give up my ride, so I set to
work to conquer him, anI -..llI-- succeeded in making him go. I
must now close my letter. 'I. many good wishes,
I remain, your devoted reader, IMOGENE A-
P. S. I forgot to tell you that I was fifteen yesterday, and my
father gave me a $20 trunk.

My DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I like "Little Lord Fauntleroy very
much. I don't go to school, but I read nearly allthe last number to
myself I have you every year for my birthday present.
From your affectionate reader, PUssy E. R--.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you ever since 1879.
I like your stories more and more every year. I have 1884 bound,
and I a" -i;- tf- h-Ie 1885 bound too, so as to keep "His One
Fault" ... I i' ...i the Goblin." You are the best book I have
ever read. ,What do you always stop at an interesting part of a
story for? I am only a little boy ten years old, but I love to read.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I must tell .. ... .... funny that
happened on the sidewalk I, ... I ri ,.. ogo. There
is a public school-house oi. I ri . i .. and some of
the boys made a slide on the sidewalk just after the first snow-storm
this year. There is .. ..- -,. -- man who lives in a little
house next doorto I ,, '. ii ,1 1.
cross, and I am sure from the way he acts i. . .. 1.1 ,I
buys. One day, soon after the boys made their slide, I was at our
front window, at about ten o'clock in the morning. The boys were
all in the school-house then ; and I saw the old man come out of his
house with a p;il of ashes andbegin to shovel then .., -
w hen, w hat do you think happened ? 3 I. u ...
while he was busy with his shovel, his feet I 1 1. ... under him, his
arms shot out, the shovel wentone way and his fur cap another, and the


pail ofashes was tossed so thatnearly all the ashes fell overhisheadand About half-past two, while all the boys were in the school-house,
shoulders I could not help laughing, to save my life; and you must the old man came out again with his shovel, and some more ashes,
n't think it was mean, for I saw three or four grown people walking but he had not even begun to sprinkle the ashes when the crowd of
along the street who laughed, too. But the cross man did n't laugh, newsboys ran out from behind the fence and began to snow-ball him
and he looked very much vexed as he went back into the house, with all their might. I supposed he would have them arrested, but

But that was not all, for at recess, a few minutes later, the boys
came out and swept all the ashes off; and somebody must have
told them who had tried to spoil their slide, for I could hear a
lot of them talking it over at noontime as they went home to lunch.

instead of that he just dropped his pail of ashes, turned and ran as
fast as he could run, and never stopped till he got into his own
house. You ought to have heard my big brother laugh! He said
" the score of the snow-bailers was ten out of a possible sixteen."


Ii ?^t

And, anyhow, they got some newsboys to guard their slide for But now the man who has charge of the school-building has to
them that afternoon. My big brother was laid up with a sprained clean off the sidewalk every morning, so I think the man who was
ankle that day, but when I told him what had happened in the snow-balled must have spoken to the policeman about it. If he did,
morning, and that I could see the:. 1. 1.. 1 T.:.Ld the corner he succeeded in spoiling the boys' slide, after all.
fence, he said he must see the flr 'I 1 .. be any; so Yours truly,
we moved his chair to the front wi i I ....I I watched. JOINNIE L.




DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have enjoyed reading your pleasant
stories for the past two years. I have read the story about Santa
Claus on a Lark." It is very entertaining, and I think your
little friends will think so, after they have read it. Mamma enjoys
the stories about the Brownies." I am nine years old, and will
be ten the first day of May. Now I shall tell you about what I saw
up at Chicago. If I should tell you all, it would be too long a letter,
so I will tell you about Lincoln Park. Papa took me to see the
animals. First I saw two seals, and they acted very strangely; one of
them would lie on a stone and then put his head down in the water
and slip off in the water, and then he would swim in the water little
while, and then he would put his head out of the water and then
dash down in the water again. And then I saw some eagles and the
red fox and some wolves. There was a lion there, but we could not
see it because it was in its den. And then I saw two polar bears
and three large black bears and some cinnamon bears. I guess I
had better close now. Your affectionate subscriber,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have taken you for seven years, and
we think you arc the best children's magazine anywhere. We are

away at boarding-school for the first time, but we are with our Aunt,
which makes it easier for us. I am glad Mrs. Burnett is going to write
for us. We are afraid you will have to shorten our letter, but please
print it, as we have always been anxious to write to you. Good-bye,
dear ST. NICHOLAS. Your loving little friends,
MARY (12), JOSIE (14.

WE acknowledge with thanks the receipt of pleasant letters from
the following young friends: Albert R. Parker, Clyde Williamson,
Lady Loula, L. G. Levy, Ellen Mary Boulton, George G. Goold,
Clara M. Upton, S. Rutledge, Kate Leonard, Agnes Barton, Susic L.
Smith, Margaret Bullock, Willis E. Dunning, J. B. and S. B., Harry
Drewett, Eva Branncn, E. T. and C., Loretta, C. Phalen, Clara S.
Well, Gussie Sweisfort, J. A. Wheat, Jesse Lemon, Rose M. Louis,
Wallie Bassett, Florence B. Sturtevant, Retta and Rena, Fannic F.
Dale, Louise Parrish, Isabel Kaplan, Oscar Hirsh, Louella M., Ira
Jefferson M., Martha Washington M., Hal W., A. M., Mary W.
McNair, Rosalie Gould, Th. Fr. M., Annie R. Wells, Jeanie G.
Warren, Hattie A. Lengel, Maud Fawcett, Georgie, Pansy Kirk-
wood, Ella Friend, and Bessie C. Pike.

Pye Si sr in


II '

ti _l
Zn- F-i P- T


PROFESSOr W. O. CRosBV, of the Boston Society of Natural
History, Boston, Mass., has volunteered to conduct a class through
a course of ten observation lessons in elementary mineralogy. It is
proposed that the course be freely open to every one, whether a
member of the A. A. or not; and all who desire to avail themselves
of this opportunity may send their names at once to Professor
Crosby. The course will be based upon a collection of twenty-five
typical specimens, which, with a magnet and some glass tubes for
chemical tests, will be sent to each member of the class. The first
lesson is printed here to enable -1. I '.:.. : ,Ie class to go to work
immediately; ..i. ,......... :.... i.. .. .1. issued in the form of
leaflets, which .11 I ... I I to students as rapidly as required.
It is desired that no books be used in connection with this course;
for the first and principal aim of the beginner should be to learn to
observe and describe minerals accurately to see them with the
eyes of a mineralogist. But this important object is defeated if we
begin our study of a mineral by reading a printed description of it.
The specimens are not required for this first lesson, in which brief
explanations of the principal properties of minerals and the terms to
be used in describing them are followed by lists of familiar sub-
stances to test the students' powers of observation and discrimination.
To help cover the cost of specimens, leaflets, and postage, a fee ot
one dollar and fifty cents will be charged.
Professor Crosby also offers to name specimens of minerals and
rocks. For this purpose, small fragments, which ... 1 1 ...
by mail and need not be returned, are usually ....o i i-. .
should be numbered to correspond with the '.... specimens re-
tained, and a stamp inclosed for the answer, I I.. is an opportu-
nity such as is seldom afforded to young persons outside of large
cities, and it will be to the interest of all to accept it promptly.
Teachers, by taking this course with their pupils, will do them a
life-long service; and parents can easily pursue these simple lessons
with their children.


FORM AND STRUCTURE.- .... ** i ....
fallin. Quartz crystal, w'. ........ '
talline; and copper, gli- -1-- and agate are uncrystalline, or mas-
sive, i. c., not visibly 11...
A. If a mineral is crystalline, it may be a single more or less per-
-- ----Til T that case, its form should be carefully described,
:. ... .........I of sides or planes of the crystal, their shapes, and
S.. ... .. they are arranged, i. e.. whether so as to make a
cube, prism, or pyramid, etc.
B. Or it may be a fragment ofa . and then, in addition to
some of the outside planes, it will .. .1 .show on the broken sides
similar flat surfaces, due to the fact that in certain directions the
crystal breaks or splits in v'rn1"~ manner. This regular splitting,
or fracture, is known as i .I.... cleavage; and it is important
to observe whether a broken crystal shows cleavage in one direction
only, or in several directions; and whether these directions meet
H I.. .. .'i*... mineral may be a confused mass of small,
imperfect crystals, 1. :.. no regular, crystalline form, but spark-
ling when turned in I... i..i., the light ;,i,- r elected by numerous
i'."'-n1r rIlnes and cleavage planes. .. .... white marble and
S.. ..... good examples of suc. .
I ..... .1 i . i . i . m ay still
possess various ... . Ii forms and structures. It may be
columnar, as in the stalactite, or globular, as in the I nd
it may be fibrous, as in asbestos; or made up of layers i ... i. as
Make some crystals by slowly --, -t. a saturated solution of
alum, and describe their forms; I i .-1 the forms of any min-
erals you may have.
HARDNESS.- By the hardness of a mineral we mean the resistance
which it offers, not to breaking, but to scratching. Diamond is the
hardest of all minerals, because it is the most difficult to scratch,


although it is very easily broken on account of its cleavage. Miner-
alogists measure the hardness of minerals by comparing them with
a series of ten minerals known as the scale of hardness. No. I of
this scale is talc, a very soft mineral, and No. to is diamond. But
with the thumb-nail, a knife, and a piece of quartz, the hardness of
all common minerals may be determined accurately enough for ordi-
nary purposes. Minerals having hardness under 2 by the scale, can
be scratched with the nail. If the hardness is between 2 and 4, the
mineral can not be scratched with the nail, but scratched very easily
with the point of the knife-blade. If the hardness is between 4 and
6, it can be still scratched with the knife, but not so easily. If the
hardness is between 6 and 7, it can not be scratched with the knife,
but can be scratched with the corner of a piece of quartz, which is
No. 7 of the scale of hardness. And if the hardness is above 7, it
can not be scratched with the quartz.
Determine in this way, as nearly as you can, the hardness of ice,
glass, copper, iron, and any minerals you may have.
SPECIFIC GRAVITY.--By the specfi- rn-. -- or density of a min-
eral, we mean its weight compared 1 it. .r I an equal volume of
water. If a cubic inch or any volume of a mineral weighs three
times as much as the same volume of water, its specific gravity is 3,
and so on. This important property of minerals is determined by
weighing the specimen in the air and then in water, and dividing the
weight in air by the difference between that and the weight in
water. With a little practice, however, the specific gravity can be
estimated with considerableaccuracy by simply lifting the specimens,
especially if we remember the specific gravities of a few familiar sub-
.r,.. ...., ..: .. The specific gravity of ice is a little less
I.-... i i .1I ..r 1.5; of rock-salt, a little more than 2; of
white marble, 2.75; of common iron ore, 4 to 5; and of iron, 7.5.
The great majority of minerals fall between 2 and 5, and very few
are heavier than iron. The extreme range, however, is from min-
erals lighter than water to gold and platinum, which are more than
twenty times heavier than water. Estimate, by lifting, the specific
gravity of any minerals you may have in a sufficiently pure state,
remembering that for this purpose it is essential that the specimen
should not be a mixture of several minerals.
LUSTER.- By luster we mean the degree and nature of the polish,
or glance, of a mineral; in other words, itsbrilliancy, or shininess. If
the mineral resembles a metal, i. e., has the luster or shine of a true
;r ,1 ... 1. ,. silver or copper, its luster is metallic, otherwise it is
The non-metallic luster embraces several important
varieties. Non-metallic minerals commonly have the vitreous luster
resembling glass (quartz is a good example). A few look like resin,
1i .. -.- . luster. Scaly minerals, like mica and talc, usu-
ll, i-., rt. luster; and finely fibrous minerals, such as as-
bestos, have the silky luster. Non-metallic (vitreous, resinous,
pearly, and silky) minerals are never perfectly opaque when in thin
pieces. Metallic minerals are perfectly opaque under all circum-
stances. When a mineral has no polish or shine, like clay, it is
described as lusterless, or dull. Luster is quite distinct from color;
and substances having the same lussv m-- --r-- greatly in color.
Thus gold, silver, copper, and iron ... .n ... ,. Determine the
luster of the following: tin, zinc, coal, polished marble, sugar, salt,
ice, and chalk.
COLOR AND STREAK.-The different shades of color in minerals
require no explanation. But it is important to know that the color
of the pulverized is often distinct from that of the solid mineral.
The latter is the color proper, and the former is called the streak,
because we most readily determine it by scratching the surface of
the mineral; i. e., making a streak upon it of its own powder. This
is not the best time to explain this difference between the solid min-
eral and powder; but colored glass may be mentioned as a good
illustration, since, whatever its color, it will give a white or nearly
white powder when pulverized. With metallic minerals, the color
and streak are usually the same; but with non-metallic minerals
they are usually different, except when the mineral is white, the
streak being white or light-colored. Compare the color and streak
of any minerals you may have.
On receipt of the report on this lesson from each member of the
class, such further explanations of the properties of minerals as he
or she may require will be forwarded, with the specimens and the
leaflet for the second lesson.
The general plan for the future lessons is to have the specimens
numbered, and then to explain certain observations and experiments
to be made with specimens Nos. 1, 2, and 3. The reports on this
lesson will be criticised and returned to the students, with printed
labels for the three cpe rimenc nd a full description of the same
for comparison with ... i. .. which will, of course, be par-
tial and imperfect, and with explanation of experiments and obser-
vations to be made on a second series of specimens, and so on.


WEi now have the pleasure of laying before our Chapters the fol-
lowing cordial and official invitation to hold our second convention
at Davenport, Iowa.
DEAR SIR: I have now heard from all of the Executive Commit-
tee of the Iowa Assembly of the A A., as well as from several
other members, and without a single exception they are heartily

in favor of having the general convention held under our auspices
at Davenport. I returned from that city last night, where I have
been to consult the Chapters there, and I find them very anxious to
entertain the convention. In extending this invitation, -- fi;ll--
realize the responsibility placed upon both Davenport and .1.
Assembly; but we have taken due consideration of the undertaking,
and we promise, if our invitation is accepted, to give our best en-
deavors for a successful meeting.-Yours truly, E. P. BovNTON,
Cor. Sec. Chap. 64, and President I. A. A. A.
In the opinion of the President of the A. A., we all should accept
this invitation, and each Chapter that is able should be represented
by one or more delegates. It is true Davenport is not near us of the
East, but it is near the center of United States, and we must remember
that very many of our best Chapters are a thousand miles farther west
than that. Moreover, the expense and labor attendant upon such a
convention make it too great a burden for a single Chapter to under-
take. The delegates to the Iowa State Convention will alone form
a large nucleus for the General Convention, and assure its success
in advance. We print also a part of a letter from Mr. Putnam, of
"I have just heard from Mr. Boynton, of Cedar Rapids, that you
are pleased with the idea of coming to Davenport. Hurrah for Iowa
and Davenport! We know that it means money and work for us,
but we are in for it. We think of holding our State Convention on
Tuesday and Wednesday, then we can give a reception to the
General Association on Wednesday evening, have sessions Thursday
and Friday. Thursday morning we might spend in visiting the
Academy of Sciences here, and in the evening have a lecture. On
one afternoon Government Island can be visited, and there will be a
Lawn party at 'Woodlawn,' a suburban place in which one of our
members lives. We are located in the midst of numerous works of
the mound-builders, and are well situated for the collection of many
kinds of specimens. We have a population of 25,000oo, and Rock
Island and Moline, just across the river, swell this to 50,000. We
will secure reduced railroad and hotel rates. I am authorized by
our Chapter to extend an invitation to the A. A., to be present in
our city at the Second General Convention of the A. A., to be held
under the auspices of the I. A. A. A.
Yours respectfully, EDWARD R. PUTNAM."
Nothing could be more cordial than these official invitations. It
is now of urgent importance that each Chapter signify at once its
acceptance thereof, or its regrets that it can not be there represented.
Please take immediate action in this matter, and communicate at the
first convenient moment with Mr. E. P. Boynton, President of the
Iowa Assembly, 303 Third Avenue, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and also.
with the President of the A. A.
PROF. H. T. CRESSON'S address (see Handbook of A. A., p. 64)
should now be changed to 224 S. Broad street, Philadelphia.

THE following interesting account of a tame crow comes to us from
Rev. Thos. J. Wyatt, of Reisterstown, Md.
The interesting thing about our crow is, that all his developments
have been entirely spontaneous. We named him Corvus, and he
always responds to his name. Wherever any farming operation is
going on he is immediately there, and struts up and down like an
old gentleman. At such times he does not hesitate to jump on the
shoulders and heads of those at work. He seeks constantly to attract
attention, talking incessantly in his own way until his purpose is
accomplished, but is a very good listener so long as he is addressed
in kind tones. Anything like scolding enrages him greatly, and he
lies down on his back, kicks with his feet, and threatens with his bill.
He is very fond of a bath, and often stands on the edge of the pump-
tub, while some one deluges his back. He often does battle with
the game chickens, using his wings only as a last resort. He is a
kleptomaniac. Thimbles, scissors, and all kinds of jewelry are carried
off whenever he can get hold of them.
Finding a fragment of ice, too cold to old in his beak, he placed.
it in the pump-spout and drank the drops as it thawed.
Flocks of crows sometimes come near him, but, strange to say,
he pays no heed to them.
The plumage of his back is turning white in places."

NEXT month we are to print the first installment of Chapter reports
on the new plan explained in the November, 1885, report. Reports
from Chapters ios-2oo should be sent in as near February i as
Allenite in gr.. .; .... .: -. ,1 ..... 'ite, flint, etc. Cor-
respondence des i -- !-I i i ..... ngham, Mass.
All kinds of ....... .. i i ........ curiosities, petri-
factions, ores, etc., in exchange for minerals, curiosities, books, etc.
Please write for list, etc.- Kurt Kleinschmidt, P. 0. Box 292, Hel-
ena, Mont.
Accrvellariak Davidsooni, or "bird's-eye coral," for insects or shells.
-Clifton Coldren, Iowa City, Iowa.



Minerals, for birds' skins and eggs. Lists exchanged. Write first.
-Wm. D. Grier, 49 Gloucester street, Boston, Mass.
Second-hand Maury's "Physi' .1 ': .. il ." and Brewer's
" Science of Familiar Things," in 1 .,,',A d
Coleoitera.--Miss Jennie Judge, Box 2x5, ..... .
Minerals of all descriptions, for fossils ...
solicited.- J. B. Fite, 1517 North 22d street, Philadelphia, Pa.
Cocoons ofAtiacus Cecropia, for others. Correspondence solicited.
-Bradley M. Davis, 369 Mohawk street, 'I. i, l.
Minerals, and correspondence.-Joseph I. Carlisle, Pa.


No. Name. No. of Members. Address.
909 New York, N. Y. (X) .... 6..Carlton R. Radcliffe,
18 East Iz7th Street.
9xo Shortsville, N. Y. (A)... 1.. Mabel E. Brown.
911 Brick Church, N. J. (A)... 9..Wilbur Kyle (Essex Co.)
912 Brookline, Mass. (C) ..... ..Miss Ethel Stanwood.
913 Providence, R. I. (F) ..... 2..Howard D Wilcox,
4i"Elmwood Street.
914 Milwaukee, Wis. (G)......14. .Miss Alice L. Grey,
904 Winchester Street.

915 Newark, Ohio (A) ....... T--r Miller, Box 157.
916 Kittaning, Pa. (A) ....... K. Heilman,
P. 0. Box 30o.
917 Wellesley Hills, Mass. (A).ln..Miss Mary N. Valentine,
Box 88.
918 Pennington, N. J. (A) .... 2..Herbert. ......
919 Springfield, 11l. (A) ....... 2.. Miss An.... I!.
S. E. Cor. Cook and 7th Sts.
920 Auburndale, Mass. (A) - 5. .Miss Annie L. Tourgce,
Riverside School.
921 Washington, D. C. (J) .... .15.MissEllen F. Goodwin, School
5, Gr. 5, Gale's Building.
758 Philadelphia, (D1)...... ......R. E. Clay.

142 Leavenworth, Kan. (A) ... 4..Chas. L. Hopper,
208 South 5th Street.
Address all communications regarding the A. A. to the President:
Principal of Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.


,;7 z ,.

THIS differs from the ordinary numerical e.. .,.. r. r. t the words
forming it are pictured instead of described. I .. consisting
of forty-seven letters, is, as the title states, a Chinese proverb.

EACH of the words described contains four letters, and the zigzag
(beginning at the upper left-hand letter) will spell what is said to hap-
pen every Valentine's Day.
I. A snare. 2. A pronoun. 3. An excuse. 4. A pretense.
5. A draught. 6. To desist. 7. A famous battle fought by the
French in x590. 8. Without a name. 9. Parts of a horse. io. A

goddess of ...... .. ;. 1 To float. 12. Very dark. 13. A
metal. 14. '1 ... ;....i 15. Commands. 16. To fail.

i. Spheres. 2. The Arabic name of the Supreme Being. 3. A
ruminating animal of South America. 4. Crippled. 5. To screen
Hi. ss. P.


UPPER LEFT-HAND RHOMBOID (across): i. One who helps. 2. A
Tr-p-rifi n nflettuce and lobster. 3. A scriptural name. 4. A city
i .I'- ....... 5. The national god of the Philistines. Down-
ward: i. A letter. 2. A verb. 3. To obstruct. 4 The valley in
which David slew Goliath. 5. Fumed. 6. The Christian name of
David Copperfield's first wife. 7. Something tied over the mouth,
to prevent speech. 8. A preposition. 9. A letter.
UPPER RIGHT-HAND RHOMBOID (across): I. Pertaining to the
sun. 2. Dens. 3. Yawned. 4- The stem of a plant used for wicker-
work. 5. The national ---I -fthe Philistines. Downward : r. A let-
ter. 2. An inseparable 3. Something tied over the mouth to
prevent speech. 4. A famous Roman consul. 5. A +- ---- --1 f-.-n.
in Asia. 6. A place for baking. 7. Conducted. 8. .......
CENTRAL DOUBLE DIAMOND (acrosS): i. A letter. 2. A small
animal. 3. T'.. r 1 A person. 5. A letter. Downward:
i. A letter. ... I "war. 3. A wandering tribe of African
robbers. 4. A weight. 5. A letter.
LOWER LEri-HANiD RIthMOID (across): i. Th- -1 --
native of Rome. 3. Brandishes. 4. A number. .
Downward: T. A letter In like manner. 3.- 1
delirious. 5. Birds of the pigeon family. 6. So let it be. 7. Com-
monly i. 1 . 8. Upon. 9. A letter.
Lows I (across): i. The fish-god. 2.
S... 1 1 1 .... .. to a nobleman. A. A surgical instrument. 4. An
S., '. of India, 5. To hinder. Downward: i. A letter.
2. A verb. 3. Used for illuminating purposes. 4. Units. 5. Re-
nowned. 6. A heavy cord. 7. A word denoting refusal. 8. A
pronoun. 9. A letter. L. LOS REGNI.


320 THE RID)

I. My primals and finals name a well-known novel.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length) : i. To praise. 2. A character in
the play of Oihello. 3. A rent. 4. A row. 5. A scriptural name.
6. A departure.
II. MY primals and finals each form the surname of a former
President of the United States.
CROSS-WORDS (of equal -..*. l i. A Syriac word meaning
"father." 2. Deceased. 3 .i 4. To mutilate. 5. Large
bodies of water. M. E. W., JR., AND PUZ."

EXAMPLE: Break to pardon, and make a preposition and to be-
stow. Answer, for-give.
i. Break a bird, and make to fold over and part of an army.
2. Break to perform to excess, and make above and a division in a
drama. 3. Break one of the same name, and make to nominate and
purpose. 4. Break a name sometimes given to an emigrant, and make
a color and a musical instrument. 5. Break the end, and make part
of a fish and a verb. 6. Break diligent, and make part of the head
and a case of boxes. 7. Break a familiar piece of furniture, and
make observing and a brittle substance. 8. Break the polestar, and
make burdens and a sailor. 9. Break a Grecian theater, and make a
short poem and upon. to. Break to separate chaff by wind, and
make to gain and at this time.
When the foregoing words have beer -1.r1 guessed, and writ-
ten one below the other, the initials of i1. i.. r row of words will
spell the name of a famous poet born in February; the initials of the
second row of words will spell the name of famous soldier and states-
man who was born in February. CYRIL DEANE.
Vneer a tnghi os krad adn redar,
Renev a lucre dinw os Ihlci,
Tub gonliv ethars acn keam ti lacer,
Nad fnid emos tcrofom ni ti slitl. BESSIE.

i. A letter. 2. To tipple. 3. An evergreen tree. 4. Inferior par-
ish officers. 5. A department of the ST. NICHOLAS magazine. 6. Full
of misery. 7. To repel by force. 8. The sun. 9. A letter.
F. L. F.
I. ACRoss: i. An extensive country of South America. 2. Abo-
rigines. 3. Attired. 4. Mankind. 5. In pyramids. DOWNwARD:
i. In pyramids. 2. An article. 3. A sailor. 4. A particle. 5. Taunts.
6. A furnace. 7. A boy's nickname. 8. A verb. 9. In pyramids.

FIND a word of six letters that will rightly describe one of the six
objects here pictured. Remove one letter, and transpose the remain-
ing letters and the name of another object will be formed, and so on
till only a single letter remains.


WORD-SQUARE, i. Nicer. 2. Inure. 3. Cubes. 4. Erect. 5. Rests. CUBE AND INCLOSED SQUARE. Cube. From I to 2, Australia;
Two DIAMONDS. I. 1. P. 2. Aug. 3. Arrow. 4. Puritan. 2 to 6, axletrees; 5 to 6, datetrees; to 5,announced; 3 to 4, smart-
5. Goths. 6. Was. 7. N. II. G. a. Bed. 3. Bonus. 4. Ge- weed; 4 to 8, departing; 7 to 8, spreading; 3 to 7, smartness; i to
nesta. 5. Dusty. 6. Sty. 7. A. 3, avers; 2 to 4, avoid; 6 to 8, sting; 5 to 7, dimes. Included word-
RHOMBOID. i. Salem. 2. Maria. 3. Patch. 4. Serum. 5. Rebel. square: i. Smart. 2. Malar. 3. Alone. 4. Range. 5. Trees.
PI. The wave is breaking on the shore,- Another year! How swift the time doth glide!
The echo fading from the chime,- I trust 'twill bear thee on its peaceful tide;
Again the shadow moveth o'er And may it prove to thee, whatever betide,
The dial plate of time. A bright new year.
The New IYear." JANUARY PUZZLE. TrI I. i. shElf 2. paPer. 3. chIld.
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. Wolfe. 4. biPed. 5. asHes. I I- 7. caNdy. 8. drYad.

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 St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO NOVEMBER PUZZLES were received, too late for acknowledgment in the January number, from Maud Mudon,
London, 2.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE DtCEMBER NUMBER were received, before December 20, from B. L. Z. Bub, No. i "-
Paul Reese -" Hyslop "-Arthur Gride-Jamie, Papa, and Mamma-"B. L. Z. Bub, No. "-'. ... J. B. Longacre- Carey E.
Melville-Albert S. Gould-"Punch, Judy, and Elsie"--Hallie Couch-J. A. and E. D. -,.-,-- tihe Knight Family-"San
Anselmo Valley"- Harry Meeder- "L. Los Regni"-" Chawley boy"--Lulu May-" Judith "--Ida Maude Preston- Louise
Webster Rosseter- Ella and Helen-Maud E. Palmer- J. A. Kellogg- S. S."- Shumway Hen and Chickens "--Efie K. Tal-
boys- Nippy Doo and Tidri Aye" Francis W. Islip -Jennie P. Miller- Fanny R. Jackson Blithedale."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE DECEMBER NUMBER were received, before December 20, from "Chippie Bird," 7-Anna F. Dog-
.... Florence E. Milligan, I -James H. Laycock, I -Jean B. G., Lucia C. -. iI i -Marie Louise, 3- Ethel M. Bennett,
I .... . ..... r-L. G. Levy, i-"Kit and Gert," -Rena, i-M. G. B., i- 'r.r.. i title, i-No Name, Brooklyn, 5-Carrie
and Ida, -- i .. r Dale Folks," 6--Alice B. Smith, i-Belle Murdock, 5--Charlotte B. Capen, 3--Charley Mason, 3-George
T. Hughes, 2 -"Old Carthusian," 5 Eureka," 3-" Patience and Impatience," 4 Mary Phayre, i- Felix and Dick, i Lulu
Culver, 5 "Denzil Elinor," I George S. Seymour, 3 Don and Hal, 2 Sallie Viles, 7- Katy Did," 7- Nellie and Reggie, 6-
Sam Bissell, i Albert W. Lindsay, 5- Lucie Ward, i Ida and Edith M. Swanwick, 6 Clark Holbrook, i Harrison Allen, Jr., 2-
Eleanor and Maude Peart, 4 Daisy and Mabel, 6 Edith ... and Jennie L. Dupuis, 6- Carrie W. Frederick, 6 Pepper
and Maria," 5-L. Lloyd, 2-" San Rafael," ;- ..... '. Cooper, 6--Loui Zeppenfeld, 5 -Kate Yerger, 2.



II. ACRoss: i. A fiat-bottomed boat. 2. Sailors. 3. Languished.
4. Moisture. 5. In crowned. DOWNWARD: i. In crowned. 2.
A verb. 3. To strike gently. 4. Unproductive. 5. Sapped. 6. Over
again. 7. A color. 8. A Roman coin. 9. In crowned.