Front Cover
 Rescued by the enemy
 Early news
 Storm bound above the clouds
 A suggestion
 The fortunes of Toby Trafford
 A bachelor of Maine
 The spelling match
 The tongaloo tournament
 Douglas Jerrold: A sketch of his...
 Chan ok: A romance of the eastern...
 Song of Polly
 Through the back ages
 The swimming-hole stories
 The home of empress Josephine
 How Dan was suprised
 In the clover
 Letty Penn's visit
 Summer wind
 An open secret
 Penciled jokes
 The unfortunate giraffe
 The story of A (flat) who tried...
 "Hello messmate!"
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00243
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00243
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Rescued by the enemy
        Page 651
        Page 652
        Page 653
        Page 654
        Page 655
    Early news
        Page 656
    Storm bound above the clouds
        Page 657
        Page 658
        Page 659
        Page 660
        Page 661
        Page 662
    A suggestion
        Page 663
    The fortunes of Toby Trafford
        Page 664
        Page 665
        Page 666
        Page 667
        Page 668
        Page 669
        Page 670
        Page 671
        Page 672
    A bachelor of Maine
        Page 673
    The spelling match
        Page 674
    The tongaloo tournament
        Page 675
        Page 676
        Page 677
        Page 678
        Page 679
        Page 680
        Page 681
        Page 682
    Douglas Jerrold: A sketch of his life
        Page 683
        Page 684
        Page 685
        Page 686
        Page 687
        Page 688
        Page 689
    Chan ok: A romance of the eastern seas
        Page 690
        Page 691
        Page 692
        Page 693
        Page 694
    Song of Polly
        Page 695
        Page 696
    Through the back ages
        Page 697
        Page 698
        Page 699
    The swimming-hole stories
        Page 700
        Page 701
        Page 702
    The home of empress Josephine
        Page 703
        Page 704
        Page 705
        Page 706
        Page 707
        Page 708
    How Dan was suprised
        Page 709
    In the clover
        Page 710
        Page 711
    Letty Penn's visit
        Page 712
        Page 713
        Page 714
        Page 715
    Summer wind
        Page 716
    An open secret
        Page 716
    Penciled jokes
        Page 717
    The unfortunate giraffe
        Page 718
    The story of A (flat) who tried to B (sharp) - in an original key
        Page 719
    "Hello messmate!"
        Page 720
        Page 721
        Page 722
        Page 723
    The letter-box
        Page 724
        Page 725
        Page 726
    The riddle-box
        Page 727
        Page 728
        Unnumbered ( 83 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


(SEE PAGE 656.)

1, 11, lip



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JULY, 1891.



DURING the autumn of 178-, the farmers
along the north shore of Long Island suffered
much from the depredations of roving bands of
plunderers known and feared as the "Whale-
They were so called because, in their sudden
raids upon the lonely coast farm-houses, they
employed the old whaling-boats of the fishers
"along shore." Often, when the man of the
house was away (sometimes when he was at
home, if he were known to be weak or cow-
ardly), a household would be terrified by a call
from the Whaleboat-men.
So long as the valuables they demanded were

given up without resistance, they were seldom
violent; but if the owners refused to yield their
goods, they did not stop at desperate measures
to obtain their ends or capture the coveted
Few dwellings anywhere near the coast had,
at the time our story opens, escaped their piracy;
and Mistress Judith Forsythe often had her mis-
givings that a house so well known to offer rich
plunder as Forsythe Place would not long be
overlooked by the greedy eyes of the robbers.
Both husband and son were fighting in the
patriot ranks, and the place was defenseless
save for women. But the brave mother had

Copyright, 1891, by THE CENTURY Co. Allrights reserved.

No. 9.

1 7 "1 ", ri

I ,



secured doors and windows with extra bars and
bolts when the men left, and had told her two
fair daughters and the little son who stayed,
" We are strong enough to keep our home. If
the British or these Whaleboat ruffians wish to
fight women, let them come "
Her determination became widely known.
Reports spread abroad in the country that the
house was a perfect arsenal, and the size and
strength of its garrison grew in every repetition
of the tale.
Whatever the reason, the gray stone pile re-
mained untouched.
Maybe the presence of a British man-of-war
in the channel just outside the cove had some-
thing to do with it; for, excepting occasional
excursions up and down the Sound, the great
ship had lain there six months.
Evelyn and Sally Forsythe took much inter-
est in its movements, and had often gone down
to the water's edge to see if it had disappeared
in the night. So one morning when they asked
their mother's permission to take a walk to the
beach, she readily granted it.
It was only half-past seven when they reached
the shore, and before ascending the lookout hill,
they stood there ten or fifteen minutes enjoying
the beauty of the wind-swept, sunlit waters.
To the left, the steep slope was crowned by a
tall, gaunt-looking tree known for miles around
as the "Watch Pine." Its gnarled trunk, with
stumps of old branches sticking out like the
rounds of a ladder, was bare of green for half
its height.
From the swaying top one could command a
view of the island, the cove, and the sound for
a great distance, and the old tree during the
Revolution was frequently used as a watch-tower
by spies and inquisitive people of both sides.
The girls had not expected to find it in use at
so early an hour, and were somewhat startled
when they saw a black horse tied beside the
road which ran past the foot of the hill.
A spy, Lyn! exclaimed Sally as they came
to a stop; "let's go home !"
But the horse threw up its head with a glad
whinny of recognition.
"Oh, Ranger! It 's Ranger!" they cried
with one voice, and unhesitatingly ran forward
to greet and caress the beautiful animal.

But where 's Dick? How did Ranger get
here ? "
Here 's Dick! answered a voice seemingly
from the clouds; and looking up they beheld
a tall boy of about eighteen descending the
Watch Pine.
"What news, Dick?" asked Lyn, as their
cousin came toward them with outstretched
Ill news, cousin; my mother has broken her
arm, and I am come for Aunt Judith to help
nurse her."
"Oh, Dick! How did it happen?"
"Last night she stumbled on a rug at the
head of the stairs, and her arm caught in the
railing as she fell."
"Oh, Dick!"
She is feeling easier now. The bone is set;
but Dr. Pettit says the shock has made her ill,
and that is why he wants Aunt Judith."
Mama must make ready at once," cried
Sally. "May I take Ranger and ride ahead
to tell her, Dick?"
"Yes, but don't frighten your mother. Ran-
ger 's well tired by this time. He 's done his
twenty miles since a quarter past five this
How you must have ridden! said Lyn, as
the younger sister cantered off.
Dick and Lyn had almost reached the house
when she remembered the English man-of-war
and asked him if he had seen it.
"No," he answered. "The first thing I
noticed was that she had gone. I used my
glass"-producing a small field-glass-"but
could not make out a trace of her, though I did
make one discovery."
"What was that?"
"There's a very suspicious-looking vessel in
the creek on the other side of the cove. I
made out some rough-looking men aboard."
"Whaleboat-men ?"
I hope not, but it is more than probable."
Just then they entered the gate, and in the
bustle of preparation for Mrs. Forsythe's de-
parture the Whaleboat-men were forgotten.
While the chaise stood waiting, Mrs. Forsythe
bade her children and the maids good-by, with
many parting injunctions.
"Be especially careful about closing up the



house at night," she said to Lyn. Sally, you
and Ralph must take care of the stable and
keep the dogs in the hall. Put the silver care-
fully away, Lyn; you know where it is safe.
And, Charity" (to the old nurse), "you must
oversee all and keep the house in its customary
Thus finishing, she was about to enter the
chaise, when the memory of the wicked-looking
boat in the creek recurred to Dick, and he laid
his hand on her arm.

The mother had been gone about twenty
minutes when little Ralph proposed to secure
the house and stables immediately.
You would n't want them to run away with
Ranger, Dick," he said.
The black horse had been patiently waiting
while the children talked of the Whaleboat-
They 'd have to kill me first," replied Dick,
emphatically. "Come, Ranger!" and he and
Ralph proceeded to lock and bar him up in a


-''i ti:- --_ _


. -- -' '" '


"Well, Richard? "
"Aunt, shall I stay with the girls ?"
The lady paused and scanned his face. She
trusted the boy thoroughly and saw immediately
that he had reason for asking.
"Stay," she replied, promptly. "Kate, get
your bonnet and cloak and come with me."
Then, turning to Dick, I will tell your mother
why you remained. I am sure she will be glad
you are with them."
The maid came out and they drove off, leav-
ing, besides the four young people and the nurse,
the cook and chambermaid.

way so very tight and safe that one would have
thought they were preparing for an attack by a
regiment of grenadiers.
All four spent the rest of the morning in still
further fortifying the house. No door nor win-
dow was neglected. The center hall fairly
bristled with guns, knives, and powder-horns.
The boys brought up a keg of gunpowder
and another of bullets from some hiding-place
in the cellar.
"Now let them come!" declared Sally, boldly;
" I '11 fire a gun myself."
They were quite busy till supper time, and


the tea-table was a very lively one. They felt
much inclined to laugh at themselves for their
extreme precautions; and except for the anxiety
about Dick's mother, and the safe journey of
their own, they would have had the jolliest time
in the world.
After supper the old nurse, who had taken tea
with them, brought in a dish of apples and a jug
of cider, and they sat around the open fire and
told stories.
Every now and then a silence stole upon the
merry group, and the firelight seemed to throw
serious shadows over the young faces.
Thoughts would come of the father and
brother away at the war, of the sick woman, of
the absent mother.
It was during one of these silences that they
became aware of a strange noise far down the
road. They listened intently.
Yes, it was coming nearer a sound of hoarse
voices screeching and laughing was soon distin-
guishable. They sprang up, looking at each
other with frightened eyes, and little Ralph
showed a strong disposition to cry.
We did n't fasten the front door, after all,"
cried Dick, breaking the fearful stillness, "and
they 've come!"
They all made a dash for the door. As the
last bar clicked into place, a bright idea flashed
into Sally's head.
"Let 's light up the house," said she, "and
they may think it 's filled and pass us by."
Her proposal was received with applause;
the terror-stricken maids, who had rushed into
the hall at the first alarm, were pressed into
service, and even the nurse responded bravely.
In those days, when shops were far distant
from the lonely country houses, large stores of
groceries were purchased at a time, so several
boxes of candles were found in the cellar, and in
five minutes the house was a blaze of light.
They stood in the hall a few moments waiting
in breathless silence.
Nearer and nearer that horrible yell! it
could be no other. The Whaleboat-men!
Ralph threw his arms around Lyn, too fright-
ened to cry, and she held the little fellow to her
with trembling hands.
The noise suddenly ceased. The men had
seen the light streaming in broad bands from the

upper part of every window, and paused. The
children knew by the last shouts they had heard
that the men could not be farther away than
the gates.
We must make some noise! cried Dick in
desperation, looking around upon the trembling
women and girls. "They '11 see through the
sham in a minute "
One of the maids burst out crying, and
Ralph's lip began to quiver ominously; it
looked much as if they were going to have
plenty of noise, such as it was!
If we could only sing something," quavered
"Well, let's do it, then," rejoined Lyn, with
sudden courage. Dick, open my harpsichord,
She was surprised at her own strength as she
commenced a ringing, liberty camp-song. The
others joined in bravely. Before they were half
through, all noises outside had ceased, and Dick
stopped for a moment to listen.
"Yes, they must have gone," he said to him-
self as he again began singing with surprising
cheerfulness and vigor.
Almost before they finished the last verse he
broke in, "They're gone "
"Gone? So quickly! "the girls cried joyously,
A thundering bang at the door answered
them. The young people sprang to their feet.
Again the hall fairly shook beneath the force of
the blow.
"Into the dining-room! For your lives!"
shouted Dick.
Lyn snatched a gun and powder-horn from the
rack as she went, and Dick, gathering as much
as his arms could hold, followed. They made
another dash into the hall for powder and shot,
and then closed the massive oaken door of the
dining-room, hastily barricading it with chairs
and tables.
They had barely put these in position when -
crash! in fell the great front, door!
Dick wrenched off the knob of the dining-
room door and, placing the muzzle of his gun in
the aperture, fired into the hall. Then, as fast
as the girls could load, one gun after another
took up the defense.

An hour before the first shout of the Whale-



boat-men had warned the children, half-a-dozen
young British officers of marines were returning
.on horseback from a day ashore under the
charge of their colonel.
Some of them were mere boys, and the party
was a jolly one. So, as they were chasing a
rabbit while. it was still light, they passed the
branch road which led to their landing, and by
mistake turned down another.
"Well, boys, we're in a pretty fix," said
Colonel Osborne when their plight was discov-
ered. "What are we going to do about it ? "
"Seize the first native that comes along and
get our bearings," proposed the youngest of the
And just then the material for this experiment
made an appearance in the shape of a big,
raw-boned longshoreman.
"Hello there, Yankee! Hold up a bit!"
cried the adviser, and rode his horse at the man
as if he would run him down.
The longshoreman dodged, but the young
officer, leaning over, grasped his long hair and
hauled him up short.
"I'm mindin' my own business; you mind
your'n!" sullenly muttered the man, and with
an eel-like wriggle he escaped his captor's
"Now, Trevor, enough of this! cried the
Colonel. Look here, my man; all we want
of you are directions to the nearest road leading
to Southard's Landing."
"Why 'n't ye say so first?" responded the
man readily. "Southard's Landin' is doo nor-
west f'm here, right over yonder; nex' road but
one to the left. Ye passed it, coming. "
Thanks," said the Colonel he paused and
looked into the man's guileless face for a mo-
ment as if searching for marks of deceit; but
the longshoreman met his gaze unconcernedly,
only remarking inquisitively as they turned their
horses and rode off, Rather late, ain't ye ? "
But no sooner had the last horseman galloped
well beyond hearing than a most remarkable
*change stole over his calm face and quiet form.
At first a low chuckle rolled from his deep
throat, but by degrees all mirth died out of the
clear blue eyes, and as the last of the riders
disappeared around the curve he shook his fist
menacingly after them and shouted joyously,

" It '11 be later yet afore ye '11 reach Southard's
Landin' by that road!"
And turning, he vaulted over the hedge and
was lost to sight from the highway.
As for the horsemen, they followed the long-
shoreman's directions and cantered swiftly down
the branch road.
They had been riding for almost an hour,
and for a long time there had been silence,
when one remarked: "Colonel, I did n't ex-
actly like the looks of that longshoreman."
Why did n't you say so sooner, Morris? "
answered Colonel Osborne, in rather an irritated
tone of voice.
"I don't see any of the houses we saw this
morning, Colonel, and it seems to me that it's
time we did," said another.
"You would n't know them if you ran into
them, in this blackness," put in Trevor, who had
not yet sobered down. Hey, fellows! Is n't
that a noise of firing over there ? He reined
up his horse at the entrance to a sort of avenue
at right angles to the road they were on.
"Shots! There 's some kind of a skirmish
going on. Come, gentlemen! exclaimed the
Colonel, we must look into this matter."
And down the avenue they flew, putting the
poor, jaded horses to their best speed.
The great front gate to the driveway was open
and in they rode. The Whaleboat-men, intent
on their prey, never even heard them until the
horsemen dashed into the mob with a ringing
"Shoot right and left, boys!" shouted the
Colonel, taking in the situation at a glance.
The children within had heard the cheer,
and in the moment's surprised silence among
the Whaleboat-men the sharp command of
Colonel Osborne was distinctly audible.
"Hurrah! It's help!" shouted Dick. We're
all right now! "
Don't open the door yet, Dick,'..gcied..Lyn,
" but help me tear away the shutter in front of
this window; the shooting seems to come from
the other side."
Good for you, Lyn Let's help ourselves! "
Dick answered; and they rapidly cleared away
the furniture from a window.
When it was cleared, both Dick and Lyn took
guns and, as fast as the others loaded, aimed


carefully at the disorderly attacking party, which
could be easily distinguished by its position
nearer the house, and by the yells which rose
from its ranks as its members fell back under
the combined fire of rescuers and besieged.
Unable to stand this cross-fire, in five min-
utes every Whaleboat-man capable of running
was fleeing across the fields at the top of his
speed, leaving the wounded where they lay.
But Lyn, standing on an armchair in the
window, with the full blaze of the tapers light-
ing up her fair, eager face, and the smoking
gun resting on the upper sash, never thought
of her conspicuous position until cheer after
cheer from the horsemen, heartily assisted by
Dick, enlightened her; then, looking pleased
but somewhat confused, she jumped down.
The courteous old Colonel, hat in hand,
appeared on the threshold as the dining-room
door swung open, and begged Dick to request
the ladies not to enter the hall and to keep the
door closed until all traces of the skirmish were
removed. They closed the door again.
"And now, Dick, we girls must n't be seen
looking this way," said Sally, gazing at their torn
apparel and powder-begrimed faces. "We '11
go up the back stairs and dress." But before
they went they told the maids to prepare a
simple lunch. "They '11 be sure to be hungry,"
said the wise Sally.
Lyn looked around for Ralph. He had fallen
sound asleep in the big armchair by the fire-
place, in the midst of all that noise!
The girls had just finished dressing, after put-
ting the child to bed, when the maid came up,
and said: Miss Lyn, the Colonel says, His
compliments, and the hall is clear.' "

Evelyn was quite calm outwardly, but within
there was a great flutter. Plucking up courage,
she took Sally's hand. The candles were still
burning brightly in the hall, lighting up the
stairway as the two girls came down.
Dick waited below with Colonel Osborne, and
the young officers stood back of them. When
they reached the lowest step he presented the
Colonel, "just as if we were grown up," said
Sally afterward, and the Colonel bowed with the
same courtly dignity he would have shown to
the grandest dame.
Then the young officers, one after the other,
were introduced, and the girls, borne up by ex-
citement, lost all nervousness. It was the great
evening of their lives. And Dick they had
never known what a man Dick was. "Not
one of the officers to be compared with Dick!"
they declared, fine as they were."
All three entirely forgot the fact that these
guests and deliverers were enemies. They were
so kind, so anxious to make them lose the
memory of the fearful hour before, that Sally
insisted, "They were the nicest enemies one
could have! And when, next morning, they
rode away, the little "Rebels" felt as if they
were saying good-by to old friends.
But, before they went, Colonel Osborne prom-
ised the girls in the name of his general that
the Whaleboat raids should be put an end to.
And he kept his word. Forsythe Place was the
last on the north shore to suffer at the hands of
the Whaleboat-men.
A few days later, Dick's mother being better,
Mrs. Forsythe came home, and heard with grave
anxiety the story of the siege and with thank-
fulness of the timely rescue by the enemy.



THE sparrow told it to the robin,
The robin told it to the wren,
Who passed it on, with sweet remark,
To thrush, and bobolink, and lark,
The news that dawn had come again.




EXTENDING north from Long's Peak, in Colo-
rado, the Front Range or Continental Divide
comprises a chain of stupendous peaks reach-
ing into the clouds, and covered even in summer
with great fields of snow and ice. This range,
cut up by gorges and chasms thousands of feet
in depth, which reach into it from the valleys
on both sides, presents views of rugged gran-
deur excelled by none in the entire Rocky
Mountain region. Many have compared them
favorably with the world-famed glories of the
Alps and Caucasus.
Below "timber-line," which in this region is
at about eleven thousand feet elevation, the
sides of the mountains are covered with a dense
growth of spruce, which gives way in the lower
valleys to the yellow-pine and quaking-ash.
These grand forests have never been ravaged
by fires nor marred by the woodman's ax; and
in their gloomy depths the mule-deer, moun-
tain-lion, and cinnamon-bear roam undisturbed
by fear of man.
Above timber-line the mountains rise from
two to three thousand feet more-in some places
gentle slopes covered with huge granite boul-
ders, and in others cliffs and crags rising almost
*" Mountaineering in Colorado."

j`Lrma Jjsund




Ir.ii-r i ; il Ut cl ii Furiiii.t r-.

these, the grandest of all the Rockies. Distance
from railroads and the total absence of the
precious metals have left the range uninhabited,
the nearest settlers being the scattered ranch-
men in Estes Park.
But few tourists have had the hardihood to
scale the great peaks of this chain and risk life
by exposure to the storms which almost con-
stantly sweep them; though notably one, Mr.
Frederick H. Chapin of Hartford, Conn., spent
several summers in this region, and has given
us his experiences in a charming book.*
Great peaks thirteen thousand feet in height
have never been scaled, dark chasms and gorges
are yet unexplored, and mountains higher than
Mount Katahdin piled upon Mount Washington
have never been deemed worthy of a name.
It was only a few years ago that the writer
and a single companion, Mr. V. L. Kellogg,
now an associate professor in the University of
Kansas, stood on the summit of Table Moun-
tain, a great elevation about six miles north of
Long's Peak. Gazing down into the awful
gorge which separates the mountain we were
on from Stone's Peak, we marveled at its awful
depths and precipitous sides, and resolved some
day to explore it together, and to follow to its
University Press, Cambridge, 1889.


source the turbulent little stream that flowed at
the bottom.
The wished-for opportunity came sooner than
we had dared to hope, and May, 1890, found us
again in Estes Park prepared to attack the Front
The winter of 1889-90 will be long remem-
bered by the inhabitants of the Rocky Mountain
region for its great severity and unusual snow-
fall. The mild spring sunshine had made lit-
tle impression on the great drifts which covered
the mountains and filled the upper forests; and
gazing on them from the valley on a bright May
morning, it seemed to us that mountains had
never looked grander. Long's Peak, rearing
his great cap fourteen thousand three hundred
feet in air, was a mass of immaculate glittering
white, broken only by the black cliff on the
northeast front; the perfect cone of Mount Hal-
lett was as white as the drifting cloud through
which it peered; while Stone's Peak, a beauti-
ful mountain thirteen thousand eight hundred
feet in height, showed not a speck of brown
through its wintry covering.
Despite the arctic surroundings, Kellogg and
I determined to explore the great chasm with-
-out delay, though the old stage-driver to whom
we broached our project shook his head omi-
nously and said:
Boys, wait until the sun has hammered that
snow for six weeks longer; even then it won't
be any picnic."
But we were not to be scared out by a little
snow. We had roamed over those mountains
before, and more than once had been brought
face to face with death by exposure or starva-
tion but had always come out with little harm.
We soon procured the obstinate, mouse-col-
-ored little mule that had carried our packs on
previous occasions; put "on. board" blankets,
cooking utensils, and three days' provisions, and
immediately after dinner set out on an expedi-
tion, the recollection of which, as I look back
on it, seems more a horrible nightmare than
a reality.
It is needless to tell the story of the first after-
noon's tramp of the fruitless efforts of Billy,"
the burro, to throw off his pack, and his almost
human shamming of lameness when the steep
ascent began.

Suffice it to say that for six long hours we
plodded up the lonely trail and, just before the
daylight began to fade, found a suitable camp-
ing place among the dense spruces near the
entrance to the great chasm which was to be
the scene of the next day's trials and sufferings.
The night was passed in a state of mild terror,
caused by the presence of a mountain-lion, which
prowled about camp for several hours, and was
kept at a safe distance only by a blazing fire.
The next morning, at five o'clock, we crawled
out of our blankets, and an hour later resumed
the journey, leaving Billy to watch the camp
and meditate upon the follies of his past life.
With no encumbrance but our guns, we made
good progress, and soon reached the entrance
of the gorge, and for two hours followed up the
little rivulet at the bottom. It was a weird,
uncanny place. The growth of spruce was so
dense that it seemed the damp, mossy ground
could never have had a good look at the sun-
Here and there we passed little banks of last
winter's snow, and soon crossed the base of a
great field which we could see extended up the
sloping sides of Table Mountain almost to the
summit. Of this snow-field more anon.
Onward and upward we pushed, crossing and
recrossing the noisy little stream, now and then
walking over the crust of a big snow-drift, and
occasionally falling in waist-deep when we came
to a soft place.
As we ascended, the gorge narrowed to about
three hundred yards and the sides became much
steeper. The spruce-trees here were dwarfed
and gnarled old fellows that had battled bravely
for years against the snow and ice of their storm-
beaten home, and had not yet given up the
struggle. We were now only a short distance
below timber-line, and a few hundred feet above
us not a green sprig showed above the glittering
white of the snow or the somber brown of the
A little higher we followed the bottom of the
gorge; but there were now no rocks to walk
on, nothing but snow from ten to twenty feet
deep acres and acres of it. The direct rays
of the sun, which was now high in the heavens,
had softened the crust, and we broke through
at nearly every step.




The fatigue of floundering through the snow,
together with the rarity of the atmosphere, for
we were now eleven thousand feet up, was
beginning to tell on our strength. We deter-
mined to leave the gorge and push up to the
left on the sides of Table Mountain, where we
judged, and, as it proved, correctly, that the
crust of the snow would be stronger.
A sharp, hard struggle of ten minutes brought
us above the stunted growth
at timber-line, where we sat
down to recover wind and
strength, and eat our noon
Up to this time not a
cloud had crossed the sky;
but now, as we looked toward '4
Stone's Peak, Kellogg called
my attention to a feathery,
foamy mass which had rolled
up over the range and, drop-
ping almost to a level with
us, scudded down the chasm
before the rising wind. It
was an ominous sign, and ,,
we finished our meal in
nervous haste. Presently anotl-iher ili I:i -r
cloud came boiling over the pa-: -ir hil i,.:i
of the chasm, and followed .-.I.:.- in ar
leader's wake. For only a momenr I'.e ..,i.: hel
the dark shadows they cast mc, In_'r .-..ci tih.
spruce forest, and rose to our f.: I.lUt r i [.....
more clouds came over into the 'rc.
The wind, which had been risir, f:or :.i, !i. .ur.
moaned and whistled among the .:i _.-: iu.l rlie
mutterings of distant thunder cI..u.Ii L.e li.-. j
from the west side of the range.
By this time, though little had been said, both
realized full well the meaning of this turmoil:
we were to be caught among the clouds in a
mountain storm.
There was no further thought of exploring the
gorge. All our strength and time must now be
used in reaching camp.
Should we go down into the gorge and get
out the way we had come in, or should we go
farther up and avoid the tangle of fallen trees
and the treacherous drifts below ? Higher up
on the mountain the snow was packed harder
and would afford better footing; and that way

we started without delay, our object being to
work around the north side of the mountain
and reach the old trail on the east side. Up
and up we scrambled over the snow and rocks.
The wind was now blowing a terrific gale, and
above us, below us, and around us, the clouds
were being driven before it.
The storm was gathering over the whole
range. Mummy Mountain and Hague's Peak,

fifteen miles away, were enveloped in a mass of
gray mist; while the thunder boomed and rolled
over Estes Park from a black cloud which was
deluging the lower valleys with rain. Stone's
Peak, looming up through an occasional rift
in the clouds, was a sight of awe-inspiring
Despite the difficulties of the way and the
surrounding storm, we made good progress up-
ward, and in half an hour turned to the left and
began working along the side of the mountain.




;-~-~- N~


Here our trials began in earnest. The storm
was upon us in all its fury. The wind blew
almost a hurricane, and the air was so filled with
sleet and fine snow that it was impossible to see
more than twenty yards in any direction. There
would be an occasional lull in the tumult, when
we could take in our surroundings for a moment,
but another cloud would envelop us and fill the
air with driving torrents of frozen mist.
Hour after hour we struggled on with the
nervous, frantic energy born of desperation.
The rocks and snow were covered with ice
thin as tissue paper, which caused many a
hard fall, and made every step a source of peril.
The force of the wind, too, threw us down con-
tinually, and we were bruised from head to foot.
If we had carried steel-pointed poles instead of
guns, they would have been of great service;
the latter were now as much hindrance as help,
though we were soon to find them useful.
Our hands and faces suffered terribly from the
bitter cold, and the former were so numb that
we dropped our guns repeatedly. Hair and
clothing were matted with ice like a coat of
mail. We realized that our progress was very


-----:-~ ~

behind a rock which afforded a slight shelter
from the icy blast.
When I reached him he looked up and said,
"Old boy, this is the worst box we were ever
in. I guess we're at the end of our rope!"
Both realized that the situation was desper-
ate, almost hopeless. There was no sign of
abatement of the storm, and weakened and
enfeebled as we were by the long struggle, if
we should not be able to cross the steep snow-
field when we reached it, death from exhaus-
tion and exposure would be a matter of only
a few hours.
We dreaded to think of that snow-field,
remembering how steep it had looked as we
gazed upward from the bottom that morning,
and knowing the condition it must be in now
with the newly formed ice on the surface. How-
ever, it was thought best to rest a short time,
and I lay down by Kellogg.
After a rest of about fifteen minutes we re-
sumed the struggle, weak as before and much
colder; but we had recovered our wind, a hard
thing to keep at this altitude.
It was now four o'clock ten hours since we



slow, as we had not
yet reached the
great snow-field
extending from
timber-line to the
summit, the base
of which we had
crossed in ascend-
ing the gorge. On
and on we stag-
S gered, feeling our
"- way over the slip-
-: pery surface, and
becoming weaker
every moment from
S the hard struggle
Sin the rarefied air
of the mountain
While stumbling
over a mass of ice-
covered boulders,
I heard an excited
exclamation and,
ELTER looking up, saw
Kellogg sink down

- 5


left camp, and four since the struggle with the Not a bit," was the answer.
storm began. The battle for life could not last We sat down and talked it over. To retrace
much longer, our steps was out of the question, and we could
Slowly and painfully we pushed forward, not climb to the top of the field, probably a
crawling on all-fours most of the time. I thousand feet, in our weakened condition.
chewed savagely on a piece of tough grouse, Suddenly Kellogg leaped to his feet and
the only remains of our dinner, rushed toward the slippery mass, crying out,
Would we ever reach the snow-field ? A hor- Come on, we've got to do it. I'11 take mine
rible thought crossed my mind. What if we this way." Without a second thought, in my
had lost the direction and were going the wrong hopeless desperation I followed. By using his
way? I did not mention my fears to Kellogg. gun as a brace Kellogg kept his feet; but I
What was the use? slipped and fell on all-fours and began sliding
Every few moments we sank down on our down. In a wild frenzy I tried to drive my
faces to recover our breath. At such times I bare fingers through the crust, but only suc-
found my mind wandering and could not think ceeded in tearing the skin off them.
clearly. Kellogg made several
remarks without any particular
meaning, and his face had a
vacant, sullen look. Almost the
last ray of hope was gone.
There was no complaining, no. ,.
whining, only a sort of mad des- ,. '
operation which made us resolve
to keep moving to the last.
Finally, through a rift in the
clouds not fifty yards ahead, we
saw the spotless white of the _
long-looked-for snow-field. .
With a feeble shout we -
pushed forward, but when we.
reached its edge our worst fears .
were realized. It was terribly
steep, being at an angle of -"
about forty degrees, and the '
crust was a coating of hard, slip- 0 A/ I
pery ice, the thickness of paste-
board. Through a break in the
clouds we saw that it extended i
downward to timber-line, fully
1500 feet, as steep as the roof T .
of a house and smoother than
the smoothest glass. How broad
it was we could only conjecture.
As we came up, Kellogg struck
gun, and I threw a rock upon THROUGH THE CRUST."
the surface, which went sliding and bounding Luckily, I had retained my rifle, and by a
down the steep face with terrific velocity, frantic effort drove it muzzle first through the
We looked at each other in despair. It's hard crust and came to a stop, having gone
no use," I said. about twenty feet. Had it not been for this

_ I~III~LZiC~e=5=


fortunate move my body would have been
hurled to the bottom of the gorge more than a
thousand feet below, and mangled beyond all
semblance of human form.
Looking up at my companion I saw that he
had turned away his head, unwilling to be a
witness of my horrible fate; but as I called out
to him he looked around, and I saw a face
so white and horror-stricken that I can never
forget it. Cold beads of sweat stood on my
forehead, and I felt that my courage was all
gone. The experience of that awful moment
almost unnerved me, and I was weak and
helpless as a little child.
Lying on my face I held on tightly to the
rifle driven deep through the crust. How to re-
gain my footing was a puzzle. Kellogg started
to come down to me, and it was with difficulty
that I persuaded him to desist.
At last I hit on a plan. Holding on to the
rifle with one hand, with the other I drew my
pocket-knife, and, opening it with my teeth, cut
two holes in the crust for my feet, and after
much effort stood upright. But we were still in
a bad fix. Kellogg called out to me to break
holes through the crust for my feet with the butt
of the gun. Although not more than twenty
feet distant he could hardly make himself heard
above the roar of the storm.
But the suggestion was a good one and
proved our salvation. We moved slowly for-
ward, breaking a hole in the ice for each step.
It was severe treatment to give valuable guns,
but they had to suffer in the best interests of
their owners.
Slowly and carefully we moved forward, occa-
sionally stopping to rest and speak words of
encouragement to each other, for now we had
the first gleam of hope for five long, terrible
Although very weak physically, our minds
were much clearer than an hour before, and
we even went so far as to chaff each other a
little. But we had plenty of fears yet. Once
my heart leaped as Kellogg slipped and came
down on both knees, clawing frantically at the
air; but he regained his feet without difficulty,
and we pushed on. Would we ever get across ?
Every minute seemed an hour.
Kellogg said that, as nearly as he could cal-

culate, we had been floundering about on that
man-trap for a week !
But we kept going; the end must come some
time, and sure enough it did; and at six o'clock
we stepped on the granite boulders again, hav-
ing been just one hour and ten minutes on that
terrible, inclined snow-field. Neither of us was
much given to demonstration, but there was a
hearty hand-shake and a few things said which
sounded all right up there, but might look a
little foolish in print.
The wind had moderated, and the clouds had
now settled far below us, while the sun, nearly
down, lighted up the surrounding mountains
and snow-fields with a sort of a radiant glory.
But the grandest picture was in the east: Below
us, over the spruce forest, over Willow Park,
and far away Estes Park, was a tossing, rolling
ocean of foamy clouds, their upper sides glis-
tening in creamy and golden light from the
rays of the setting sun. To the right the great
mass of Long's Peak and the shattered crags of
Lily Mountain towered above the burnished sea.
It was a grand picture such as only those
who have the hardihood to climb the highest
mountains can hope to look upon. Any at-
tempt of art to imitate them can be but mere
But it was not to last long. The clouds
drifted off over the foot-hills, and there were none
to take their places; and then we saw, far below,
the world that we had almost given up forever;
and as we stood there it looked to us grander
than any picture of sun-burnished clouds and
snow-covered peaks. We were glad to have
another chance at it. But we were not there
yet. After a good rest we started again just as
the sun was sinking below the horizon.
Compared with what we had been in before,
the walking was good, though a discriminating
person would not have preferred it to asphalt
Just as darkness was setting over the range
we reached the head of the trail at timber-line.
Here, there was some more hard floundering
through snow-drifts and plenty of falling over
prostrate tree-trunks. But we soon left behind
the last snow-drift and ice-covered boulder, and
hurried through the forest down the trail easy
to keep even in the darkness. Once we heard




the long-drawn scream of a mountain-lion, but
only slipped cartridges into our guns and kept
on. We were in no mood now to be frightened
by such small fry as a mountain-lion.
Finally, at nine o'clock, weary, hungry, and
bruised, we staggered into the camp that we
had left fifteen hours before a terrible day in
which we had more real experience than many
people get in a lifetime.
Our great equine freak, Billy, was on the
alert, and greeted us with such a series of whin-
nies that we feared he was trying something
new in solos.
We built a fire and prepared supper with the
usual accessory of strong coffee, and at eleven
o'clock were asleep under wet blankets. But
it was a glorious sleep, and when the sunshine

woke us the next morning we felt greatly
refreshed, though still very weak and stiff.
After breakfast we repacked the burro, and
started for camp in Estes Park. Billy did not
need any urging now and showed great enthu-
siasm in jumping over fallen trees; so much, in
fact, that he threw himself down continually.
At eleven o'clock we reached camp, and spent
the next few days in resting and eating with
commendable energy.
We determined hereafter to heed the advice
of the old stage-driver and let the sun ham-
mer that snow six weeks longer" before we tried
any more mountain climbing.
For my own part, I am willing to let him
hammer it six centuries longer before repeat-
ing that experience.



SHE had lingered long by the window-pane,
And watched with her childish, impatient eyes,
The countless drops of the beating rain,
And the leaden, relentless skies.

At length, when the dreary day was done,
She told her thoughts, in the twilight gray:
" You know there 's a bureau in Washington,
Where weather is stowed away.

" And when it 's so stormy and cold and wet,
I wonder what they are thinking about,
Not to open some other drawer and get
A different weather out 1 "



[Begu in the November number.]

a man of good inten-
tions, and he had given
the birds to Bertha with-
out any unkind motive.
He was well away from
the door before the
idea occurred to him '-
that, to her brother,
such a reminder of his I
wrongdoing, daily be-
fore his eyes, might not
be agreeable.
"But perhaps it will
be wholesome for him,"
he reflected, as he l
walked on; with the
feeling clinging to him,
however, that he had
been a trifle indiscreet.
Toby was still more
indiscreet when, half an
hour later, he fell in
with Tom's companions.
He had returned to the
wharf, and was busy
arranging his moorings, 1,
when Yellow Jacket's
boat came down the I '
lake. After landing '
Tom at the foot of the "'THAT S A WHO:
lane, it crossed over, to set Lick Stevens ashore
at the foot of Water street.
"Why don't you use my wharf? You're
welcome," said Toby.
"We don't want nothing' of you nor your
wharf," Yellow Jacket replied, running his boat
on the gravel, while Lick Stevens stepped lightly
ashore, with a malicious smile curling his lip.
"All right," cried Toby gaily. "I and my
wharf can stand it, if you and your boat can."



"Your wharf can stand it, if the public is
good-natured enough to let it alone," said Lick.
" Everybody knows it 's where it has no right
to be."
Toby had made the offer of his wharf with
sincere good-will. But now he was nettled at
the churlish reply.
Oh, put a stop to your silliness !" he said
"You '11 find out whether it's silliness or


not," Lick retorted, if you and your wharf hap-
pen to get unpopular."
"That's so," struck in Yellow Jacket. "A
part of it is in the street; and the other part is
in the street, too, for the town-right runs into
the lake."
It was evident that Toby and his affairs had
been talked over by his acquaintances, since
his unfortunate encounter with them on the
lakeside lot. He fired up with resentment,
which was foolish enough; and he conde-
scended to show his irritation, which was even
more foolish.
Whether my wharf has a right here or not,"
he said, it's here, and I 'd like to see anybody
who claims a right to meddle with it. As for
the lake, there are a good many things in it you
can't get out, with all your bragging, Josh Pat-
terson! How about Tom Tazwell's gun ? "
I could get that if anybody could," replied
Yellow Jacket; "but it's down in the mud
where nothing' but dredging will fetch it."
You 're sure it 's in the mud ? said Toby,
erect on his wharf.
I know it is," said Yellow Jacket, pushing
off in his boat.
What '11 you bet ?"
I '11 bet my boots."
Toby stood with his hands in his pockets,
"Well, then, fling 'em ashore and go bare-
foot. The gun you could n't get with all your
diving, Mr. Allerton and I found and fished
up in about fifteen minutes."
Lick Stevens scoffed. Yellow Jacket looked
That's a whopper! said Butter Ball, stand-
ing in the boat-a ridiculous figure, with his
fat cheeks and his assumption of importance,
his short, round body and insignificant legs.
"You're a whopper yourself--you puff-ball
on two pegs !" returned Toby, gay again with
a sense of triumph. Go and ask Tom. He
is home by this time; but the gun was there
before him."
Did you dive for it ?" asked Lick Stevens,
jeering incredulously.
"Dive? No! What 's the use of diving?"
said Toby. "There was the gun, plain as any-
thing, sticking in the mud; and all we had to

do was to wind a stout fish-line around it and
haul it up."
That was before we tried for it, then," said
Yellow Jacket.
No, sir. It was after you had spent half the
afternoon trying for it. And we don't pretend
to be smarter than all creation."
Toby could n't forbear the taunt, which went
to the heart of the vain and sensitive boaster.
All that Yellow Jacket could fling back was a
coarse accusation of falsehood, accompanied by
a lurid look out of his tawny eyes, as he pulled
"I 'm going right up to Tom's now," said
Lick Stevens, "to see how big a one you 've
been telling."
That's just what I advise you to do," replied
Toby, and tell him the sooner he scours out
his gun the better. It was beginning to rust
"You tell it pretty well! said Lick with a
grin over his shoulder, as he started off swinging
his rifle.
That's just what you said of Tom, when
you thought he was fooling you about that
twenty-dollar bill. You 're about as true a
friend of his as you are of mine or as you are
of anybody's! Toby cried, raising his voice to
be heard above the sound of Lick's departing
footsteps crunching the gravel.
Then, when the ardor of battle was over, and
he was left alone, he began to reflect upon the
imprudence into which he had been betrayed
by his too quick temper.
"I suppose I have made enemies of all of
them! he said to himself ruefully. "But it
can't be helped now."
He noticed that Lick stopped to speak with
a stranger he met on the beach, then walked
on. The stranger seemed to hesitate a moment;
then he approached Toby. He was evidently
a newly arrived patron of one of the summer
boarding-houses. The question he asked gave
Toby a wonderful thrill.
Can you tell me where there are any boats
to let ?"
"Yes; plenty of them; right here," replied
That 's curious," said the stranger. I
heard there were some down this way; but that



young fellow I just met said there was n't one
to be had for love or money, and that all these
were private or engaged."
Toby was prompted to say something severe
regarding Lick's veracity; but contented him-
self with replying, "It seems he was mistaken.
Would you like a boat?"
"I should like two, and perhaps three, this
evening," the stranger answered. "A party of
us wish to take a row by moonlight. Which
can we have? "
"Either or both of these two," said Toby,
indicating as he spoke the Milly" and the
Whitehall boat.
The doctor's boat was not in the water, and
Toby thought Mr. Allerton might wish to use
the Swallow himself.
"Perhaps we can make these do. What's
the price ? "
Toby had thought a good deal on that sub-
ject and discussed it with Mr. Allerton. He
answered stoutly:
"Twenty-five cents an hour for each boat."
"Any less for the second hour? "
Each subsequent hour, twenty cents."
"And if you furnish an oarsman ? "
"Twenty-five cents more for every hour."
"All right," said the man, looking at his
watch. "We '11 be around here after tea-say
at a quarter past seven, or a little later."

THE stranger departed; and Toby ran home
with such glee as a small boy feels when he has
caught his first fish.
After a hasty supper he returned to the
wharf to put everything in readiness for the
party that had engaged the boats.
While he was at work wiping and sponging,
Yellow Jacket came along. He passed close
behind the little wharf and turned up the street
without uttering a word.
Toby thought at first, Let him sulk if he
likes to!" But presently relenting, he called
after him:
Yellow Jacket! "
Then it seemed that Yellow Jacket had grown
suddenly deaf.

"Yellow Jacket!" Toby repeated. Oh,
come, now,-what 's the use? "
The wasp-catcher turned and glared.
"I 've let two boats for this evening," said
Toby, and you may be wanted to pull a pair
of oars."
I have n't had my supper yet," Yellow
Jacket growled, looking askance.
"It won't take you long to get that; I 've
had mine!" said Toby. "See here, Yellow
Jacket, you and I are not going to be so fool-
ish as to quarrel."
"I should think we had quarreled already,"
said Yellow Jacket, stung worse by Toby's re-
cent words than he had ever been by all the
hornets he had caught.
"Then let's make up," replied Toby.
"I s 'pose you '11 say make up, now there 's
something you want to get out of me," mut-
tered Yellow Jacket.
Toby had meant to be generous, and he could
not bear to have his motives misunderstood.
The idea of my wanting to get anything out
of you!" he exclaimed. "I 've got this thing
in my own hands, and I don't ask odds of any-
body. I only thought I 'd give you a chance
to earn a quarter or a half, which I should
think you 'd be glad to do with your mother
and sisters working as hard as they have to
every day of their lives while you are loafing.
Now, will you come or not ? I sha'n't ask you
three times."
Yellow Jacket, even while he grumbled, had
almost made up his mind to accept Toby's
proffer of peace, and pull the oars for him. But
this too frank allusion to his notorious domestic
circumstances maddened him, as Toby, had he
been wise, might have foreseen. He hurled
back a furious retort, and walked on.
"Well! I seem to be getting into it deeper
and deeper," thought Toby, almost as vexed
with himself as he was angry with Yellow
Jacket. "What has got into the fellow? I
was so ready to make friends with him."
He sat down on the wharf with his feet in
a boat, and waited for his patrons. The even-
ing was inexpressibly lovely, with its cool shad-
ows and tranquil water. The lake was like
dimpled silk, softly undulating with wavelets
that nowhere broke into ripples, and that came




from no one knew where, for the winds were
still. Then it reflected the hues of wondrous
fiery vapors which stained the track of the sunset,
and these also came from some unknown source,
for not a cloud marred the purity of the sky.
The appointed time had passed and Toby be-
gan to fear the party would not come. He sat
holding the boat with his heels, when Mildred
appeared -not merely in order to have her little
sisterly fling at him, it is to be hoped, but she
had it nevertheless.
"Well, Toby, how much money have you
made, with the crowds of people you were ex-
pecting ? "
Enough to pay a dollar a word for all the
nice, consoling things you say to me, when you
see me anxious or disappointed," replied Toby.
"I suppose I deserve that," said Milly, more
pleasantly. How beautiful the water is! I
wish I could afford to hire one of your boats,
with a charming oarsman."
Perhaps you can get Yellow Jacket and his
'Bluebird,'" said Toby. "Or, if you can't do
any better, I '11 give you a row myself, if my
party does n't come. But there they are," he
exclaimed, starting to his feet.
The stranger who had engaged the boats re-
turned, accompanied by an old gentleman and
five ladies. They did not like the look of the
Whitehall boat, which, indeed, leaked a little
and needed a coat of paint; and they insisted
on taking the Milly" and the "Swallow."
"All right," said Toby, after some hesitation.
Then turning to his sister: "If Mr. Allerton
comes for his boat, tell him how it is, and ask
him to take the Whitehall in its place."
Toby was to row one of the boats, and guide
the party to the most interesting points about
the lake.
Do you think I 've nothing but your errands
to do, and to wait for Mr. Allerton?" said
Mildred to herself, as Toby rowed away.
Yet she was willing enough to remain; and
after watching the two boats move off, breaking
the beautiful surface into still more beautiful
whirls and ripples under the brightening moon,
she walked to and fro on the shore, glad at
heart of what she knew made Toby happy.
Then came another gentleman with two
ladies; he also wanted a boat.

"Who is the boss?" he asked.
"The 'boss' is my brother," Milly replied,
"and he is on the lake, with a party, in the
boats yonder."
"Those are friends of ours," said one of the
ladies. "Why can't we have this boat?"
"That was to be kept for another person,"
replied Mildred. "But it is getting late; I don't
believe he will come. I '11 take the risk, and
let you have it."
She held the painter, and helped the party
aboard; then laughed well at herself, after they
had pushed off.
"It's a queer business for me, but I rather
like it. Perhaps Toby will engage me in place
of Yellow Jacket. I can take a party out, and
row as well as anybody. Would n't it be
She suppressed a cry of dismay. A man was
coming along the shore. She saw him put his
hand up under his hat. There was a fresh pink
in his buttonhole.
"Oh, Mr. Allerton!" she said, "you are
coming for your boat, and I have done a
dreadful thing!"
And she told him the story.
I noticed that the boats were gone," he
said; "and I hoped that was just what had
But you would have used one, if it had been
saved for you ?"
"Very likely provided I could have in-
duced you to take a row with me."
That shows me how much I have lost, and
how justly I am punished," said Mildred, with
a pretty air of disappointment.
Is that an example of your irony?" the
schoolmaster replied. "Toby tells me you can
be very sarcastic."
Can be? It's all I can do not to be!"
Mildred exclaimed. "It 's my worst failing,
with him. Not with you, Mr. Allerton. I was
just wishing for a row on the lake."
Perhaps a walk on the shore will be almost
as pleasant. What do you say to it?" Mr.
Allerton asked diffidently for he was one of
the shyest of men.
I say yes to it, of course," Milly replied
with charming frankness, taking the arm he
offered her somewhat awkwardly.



It was a memorable evening for her, as it was
for Toby. Mr. Allerton did not have in a high
degree the gift of graceful trifling. But he
talked to her of her brother, of the books she
liked, or of those he wished her to like, and oc-
casionally quoted a stanza of poetry to her in a
voice which added to its music as the moon-
light enhanced the beauty of the lake.

TOBY received a dollar and a half for his
boats and his own services that evening; and it
was money sweetly earned. He might have
claimed more, if he had insisted upon it, for he
was out with the party more than two hours.
"But they were inclined to be liberal with
me," he said afterward; "and I thought I
would be liberal with them. And I 'd like them
to want to come again."
He was greatly encouraged by this begin-
ning. Early the next morning he set to work
putting and painting the doctor's boat, and
making it ready to join his little fleet. He also
put up his sign, BOATS TO LET." He nailed
it to a high stake, which would also serve for
fastening the boats, at a corer of the wharf.
Then there was the other sign,- BOATS FOR
THREE SPRINGS," which was to be placed
facing the railroad station, on Mrs. Patterson's
fence. Although he had her permission to put
it there he feared it would bring him into more
trouble with Yellow Jacket. He was thus be-
ginning to perceive the inconvenience of having
He was desirous of having this sign up by
the time of the arrival of the first train which
usually brought passengers for the Springs. At
ten o'clock he walked into Mrs. Patterson's
yard, with the board under his arm, and ap-
proached the back door, where he found her
washing some clothes at a tub.
"I have brought that sign I spoke to you
about," he said, with a show of easy indiffer-
ence which he did not feel, for he expected at
any moment to see Yellow Jacket come brist-
ling out at him.
She had forgotten all about the matter, and
he had to explain it to her again.

Oh, sartin! she said. What objection
can there be?"
"I did n't know but Josh would object,"
Toby replied. "He has got out with me lately,
for some reason; though he knows that I wanted
to give him a share of the business, if I get
"So he tol' me," replied the washerwoman.
"Josiah is sometimes rather unreason'ble. But
I guess he 'll come round. Anyway, you can
put up the sign. He ain't to hum."
Toby had the board fastened by screws to an
upright strip, which he now proceeded to nail
to the fence. The sound of his hammer at-
tracted the attention of a small crowd waiting
around the station for the arrival of the train.
Boys rushed to the spot; and Toby did not
have to look higher than the legs of the men
to know that they were staring at him and his
sign. There was surprise and curiosity even in
the pose of their feet.
Two or three omnibuses were there; the
one that conveyed passengers to the Springs
was backed up to the platform within a rod or
two of where he was at work. Among the
questions and comments that reached his ears,
he heard one of the drivers say:
"See that, Burleigh ? There 's opposition!
You may as well keep your team in the barn,
after this."
Burleigh, the bluff old driver of the Springs
omnibus, made answer:
I guess our bus will run all the same. But
somebody I won't mention ain't go'n' to be
over and above pleased."
Toby worked on courageously, though con-
scious of a very red face; and afterward showed
his pluck by jumping down from the fence, on
the side toward the station, to look at his sign
from the point of view of the crowd.
The most of the comments he overheard
were friendly enough.
"It's a mighty good idee!"
I wonder nobody ever thought on 't before."
Can't be anything pleasanter 'n a trip acrost
the lake in fine weather. Omnibus is nowhere!"
"Wonder what the company '11 think of it?
Going to cut rates, Toby ? "
"'T ain't the railroad company that runs the
bus; it 's Tazwell. Maybe he 's interested in



the boats. How is it, Toby? You still at work
for him? "
"There 's nobody interested in the boats but
myself," Toby replied. And all I want is just
to earn a living, without cutting rates or inter-
fering with anybody."
He was glad when the approach of the train
attracted the attention of the bystanders; for
he was determined not to retreat while all eyes
were upon him, nor until he had made an effort
to secure passengers.
See here, Burke," he said to a sturdy boy
of about twelve years, who stood earnestly
watching him; you can pull a pair of oars, if
I happen to want you ? "
"I should think so!" said Burke, with a
pleased grin.
He was the son of a carpenter, who, Toby
knew, would be glad to have the boy get some
Very well; be on hand."
Bus to Three Springs! Here 's the bus to
Three Springs!" called out Burleigh, standing
at the open door of his vehicle, as the passen-
gers were leaving the train.
It required no little resolution for a modest
boy like Toby to take his stand before the
platform, and likewise make a bid for patronage.
He could not make up his mind to do so until
the last moment, when, seeing that his sign
did not appear to be noticed, he spoke up in a
clear voice, but with a fast beating heart:
Boats to Three Springs, gentlemen Pleas-
ant row across the lake! Have a boat, sir ? "-
to one who hesitated.
Hold on, Terry! said the traveler, "let 's
learn about these boats! Where are they ? "
"Close by," replied Toby; "just at the foot
of the street here."
"What's the fare ?"
Twenty-five cents."
"Same as in. the omnibus ?"
Toby knew very well that it was the same,
except that the omnibus gave return tickets for
forty cents.
"I have nothing to do with the omnibus," he
answered discreetly.
I say, Terry! said the traveler, "let 's try
the lake. It may take us longer, but that makes
no difference because we're in no hurry."





It won't take you much longer," said Toby,
"for it is a straight course by boat."
The result was that, out of nine passengers
for the Springs, two gentlemen and three ladies
went with Toby. He was almost frightened at
his success; and it really gave him an uncom-
fortable feeling, to see only four out of the nine
left for Burleigh and his bus.
Was he taking an unfair advantage, by thus
making a strike for a share of the public patron-
age? He could not see that he was. The
railroad company, or whoever it was that ran
the omnibus to the Springs, had no monopoly
of that summer resort, which owed its existence
and sudden popularity to its lately discovered
mineral waters; and if anybody had a right to
take tourists there by land, Toby had an equal
right to take them there by water.
He had thought of all this before, and did
not waste any time in reflecting again upon it.
"Come, Burke!" said he. "Show these peo-
ple the way." And he ran on before to get
his boats in readiness.
The Swallow was large enough to take the
whole party, with one oarsman. But he meant
to "do the thing in handsome shape," as he
said afterward; and he also had an "eye out
for return fares."
He started one couple off with Burke, in the
" Milly," and followed with his three other pas-
sengers in the Swallow." Never in his life be-
fore did he pull a pair of oars with such glee.
It was only after he had passed the other boat.
and saw that he was leaving it behind, for all
Burke could do, that he relaxed his efforts and
led the way with an easier stroke.
Is n't this delightful ? "
What a lovely sheet of water! "
Why does anybody take an omnibus when
there 's such a boat-ride as this to be had!"
"No dust on this road-not much! "
Such were some of the comments he was
pleased to overhear.
He was landing his passengers in front of the
Three Springs Hotel when he heard the rum-
ble of the omnibus driving into the grounds.
"You see," he said, we are here as soon as
they are."
How about returning ? said the leader of
the party, producing money to pay the fares.

The question was addressed to his friends,
who voted unanimously that it would be
better to go back by water.
"At what time? Toby asked.
"In time for the four-o'clock up train; we
have come over here only for dinner."
"My boats will be here," said Toby. "If
you pay now, the fare both ways will be only
forty cents, instead of half a dollar."
"Suppose I pay you, and your boats are not
here ?" said the traveler good-naturedly.
"Suppose you pay the omnibus, and the
omnibus is n't here ?" replied Toby shrewdly.
Business is business."

THE man laughed, and handing him two
dollars asked for return tickets.
Toby was prepared for the emergency.
Not long before, a boy friend of his had set
up an amateur printing-press; and to encourage
the enterprise Toby had ordered of him two
dozen visiting-cards.
"-Though I don't expect ever to have any
use for them," he had said. But now a use for
them had come.
He had one in his pocket, printed in neat

Tobias Trafford.

He wrote on this with the stub of a pencil,
"Good for five fares," and handed it over
gravely, in return for the money.
Now, Burke, wait here," he said, while I
see if there are any passengers to go back for
the noon train."
The clerk of the hotel informed him that two
or three guests were going away that forenoon;
and pointed them out, sitting under a pavilion
at one of the springs. Toby walked up with



a frank but modest air, and proposed the trip
by his boats.
"We don't know anything about you and
your boats," was the blunt reply.
Here are some people who can tell you
about them, and perhaps a little about me,
since I brought them over," said Toby, with a
proud air, but with a blushing face, if you will
take the trouble to ask them."
There 's no use in that," said the man who
had spoken before; for we have tickets to go
back by the bus."
Toby was silent for a moment. A contin-
gency had arisen which might arise again and
embarrass his business. His decision was
quickly made.
"All right," he said; I '11 accept them."
For he reasoned: No doubt I shall have pas-
sengers who will want to go back by the bus.
So I can sell bus-tickets, if I have any."
The party he had brought over sauntered into
the pavilion. Toby quietly withdrew, but he
had not gone far when he heard the question:
How about this youngster's boats? "
And the reply:
The boats are nothing extra, though they 're
well enough; but the trip by the lake is fine."
He chuckled a little, but did not turn back.
Presently the man on the bench called out to
him: "See here, Bub "
It galled him to be addressed in that dis-
respectful manner. But he had made up his
mind not to let false pride stand in the way of
any honorable occupation. So, instead of walk-
ing on, as he was at first inclined to do, he
turned with a smile and said:
"That is n't my name; but never mind."
"When do we start? the man inquired.
In half an hour," said Toby, if you wish
to get the noon train. How many of you ?"
"Any baggage? "
Only gripsacks."
I '11 have a boat for you," said Toby.
He at first thought of leaving Burke to take
these passengers across in the Milly," while he
hastened back to his boat-painting. But he con-
cluded to remain, in order to see that nothing
went wrong; and he was glad that he did, for
when they came to take the boat they were

accompanied by two others, who had come over
that morning in the bus.
We have seen enough of the Springs," they
said, "and now we should like to see a little
more of the lake."
Nothing was said about the fare, until he
landed them at his wharf; when they, too,
presented bus tickets.
"We understand you take these," they said.
Toby gave a shrug. I suppose that I ought
since I have agreed to take them from these
other gentlemen," he replied, after a moment's
But he was beginning to think, as he said
later, that he had "hooked a fish it might be
some trouble to haul in."
He sent Burke to follow the tourists and
carry their satchels to the station.
"Then go and get your dinner," he said,
"and come back and help me again this after-
noon. And ask your father what he thinks I
ought to pay you, if I hire you by the week
that is, if you like it."
Oh, I like it," said Burke, with a pleased
look, as he started off with the bags.
When Burke returned at one o'clock, he said
his father thought two dollars and a half a week
would be fair wages for such a stout boy.
I think so, too," replied Toby. And now
let me tell you something. I like the way you
take hold, and I believe you are going to suit
me better than the person I first had in mind.
I shall want you to stick right to business; and
very likely you will have the handling of some
money. It won't be enough that you can pull
a good stroke; you must be polite, and of course
you '11 be honest."
I was brought up to be that," said Burke.
"I know you were," said Toby. "And it
will help to keep you so to have something to
do. Boys of your stamp don't go wrong unless
they are idle. Now this is what I am coming to.
You shall have your two dollars and a half a
week, to begin; and if at the end of a week
or two, I find I can afford it, and you earn it, you
shall have half a dollar more. How's that? "
"That 's tip-top i said the carpenter's son.
One thing that you will have to do will be
what you saw me do this morning, and I want
you to make up your mind to do it well," Toby


proceeded. "You will be at the station when
the train arrives, take your stand facing the pas-
sengers as they come out on the platform, and
-suppose you rehearse your part a little."
How do you mean? Burke asked.
Suppose this wharf is the platform, and I
am a passenger. I have ladies with me, and a
gripsack in my hand. What do you do? "
Oh, I d'n' know," said the pupil sheepishly.
"What did I say? Do you remember? "
"' Boats for Three Springs, gentlemen! Pleas-
ant trip across the lake.' Something like that."
Exactly! You 've learned your part al-
ready, and all you 've got to do is to play it
with confidence. With a good deal more con-
fidence than I did!" laughed Toby; "for I
was scared half to death. My sign up there
may do some good; but I tell you, a living and

talking sign will do vastly more. You are to be
that, Burke. Now here I come with the ladies
and my gripsack; and there you are, ready and
chipper; and what do you say?"
It was hard for the boy to keep a sober coun-
tenance; but he spoke up in tones that showed
what he might do when the proper time came.
"Boats to Three Springs, gentlemen Have
a boat, sir ? Pleasant trip by the lake! "
"That's good," Toby exclaimed. "And
you must offer to take my gripsack."
"But if there are trunks ? or big valises ?"
"I 've thought of that. We '11 have my
wheelbarrow at our gate, and you can run back
for it if you need it. But we won't undertake
to handle any big trunks."
Fortunately very few such made the trip to
Three Springs.

(To be continued.)



A N---

*>( X -tX x


HEZEKIAH BETTLE was a bachelor of Maine,
But one morning he departed by a very early
"For fuel is so costly," said the frugal Hezekiah,
"I am forced to find a dwelling where I need
not pay for fire."

I ". ,

He took a bee-line southward till
to Mexico he came,
He found there a volcano with a
most eccentric name,
And he built him there a cottage,
did this Hezekiah Bettle,
He built it near the summit of
Mount Popocatapetl.

Whenever he desired to cook a mutton chop
He 'd hang it by a lengthy string right over
from the top,
From the top of the volcano he would hang it
by a string,
And there, until 't was nicely cooked, he 'd let
his dinner swing.

To get his boiling water he would lower down
a kettle,
Right down into the crater of Mount Popo-
From the ashes of the mountain he would light
his meerschaum pipe,
And he felt as truly happy as a jolly little snipe-

/ '




But one evening, as it happened, there came by So he tapped him on the shoulder, this poor
a grizzly bear, Hezekiah Bettle,
And he was much astonished to see Hezekiah Who straightway did fall over into Popocatapetl.

4 >,

*; .2 '2'



THEY'D all sat down but Bess and me,
I surely thought I 'd win.
To lose on such an easy word,
It was a shame and sin!
We spelled the longest in the book,
The hardest ones- right through,
" Xylography," and "pachyderm,"
And gneiss," and phthisic," too.

I spelled '"immalleability,"
Pneumonia," it was fun
SPhlebotomy," and "zo6phyte,"
Each long and curious one.
Then teacher gave a right queer smile
When Bess spelled aquarelle,"
And backward, quick, she turned the leaves,
And then she gave out spell."

I 'm sure I never stopped to think
About that double 1."
It seemed like such an easy word;
But one can never tell.
" S-p-e-l," I spelled it-
And how they all did laugh!
And teacher said, I think, my dear,
Too easy 't was, by half."

Now, Bessie was not proud nor mean,
She said, No wonder, Jane;
For we were thinking of big words.
You'd spell it right, again."
I 'm glad that it was Bess who won,
And not those others. Well!
If I did miss one little word,
I showed that I could spell.



ONE Saturday afternoon we asked Uncle Ben
to tell us a story. It was a very favorable op-
portunity, for he had sprained his ankle and sat
with one foot propped up by a small camp-stool.
Don't you think it unfair to ask an invalid
to amuse you ?" he asked.
It does n't hurt your ankle to talk," objected
his youngest niece.
Well, perhaps it won't," he admitted. "At
all events, I will try, and if it hurts me I can
We agreed to this.
But there is one condition," said Uncle Ben.
"I do not like to be bound down too closely to
facts. Some people believe in telling stories to
teach; others believe in telling stories to amuse.
Now I prefer to mix the two kinds. So you
need n't believe my story unless you choose, and
so you must not ask me whether it is true or not.
Do you all agree ? "
"We agree," we answered.
"Now don't forget," said Uncle Ben. "I
shall tell it as if it was a true story; and if you
should meet any of the persons I tell about, you
can find out from them, if you choose, just what
I have added to any facts there may be. And
if you never meet any of them, why, then you
need n't be surprised, for maybe they never
We nodded our heads and waited for the
story. And this is what he told us.

When I was a young man, about thirty years
of age, I came to the city to make my fortune.
I had no profession and was ready to do any-
thing honorable that promised me fair wages.
To save my money, I boarded with another
young fellow who was also looking for work.
He was hardly more than a boy, about fifteen,
I think, but he may have been younger.
His name was Marmaduke Ferron, and I
think he must have been French, he was always

so gay and confident. Nothing made him blue.
Even when we had spent all but enough to pay
one week's board he would not be discouraged.
He went every day to answer advertisements or
to ask for work.
I was older, came of Scotch stock, and was
more easily disheartened.
One day, after a long tramp about the city
without finding anything except an agency to
sell very poor chromos, I came in, and settled
down by our little cylinder stove, entirely hope-
less. I had about made up my mind to go back
to my country home, when Marmaduke came
in. He seemed very jolly, and for the first
moment I thought he must have found work.
Then I remembered that he always did come
back in a happy frame of mind, and I became
gloomy again.
This time, however, Marmaduke had found
something -though I was inclined to sneer
when he told me what it was.
Well, our luck has turned at last! said he,
brightly. "I knew it would."
"Have you found a place? I inquired with
but little interest.
"Yes," he answered. "And what is better,
I have found a place for you, too."
"What is it ? I asked, with some little hope.
"I went to answer an advertisement calling
for agents willing to travel abroad," said Mar-
maduke, "and I found a firm of dealers in
notions who wanted two young men to go to
Corea and sell a miscellaneous cargo."
Corea? Where 's Corea? I asked, for I
had only a vague notion of the country.
"Don't know, I 'm sure," said Marmaduke,
as if impatient of the interruption, but the old
man I saw was quite confidential with me. He
told me that his firm had bought a large num-
ber of roller-skates and did n't quite know
what to do with them."
"Why don't they sell them?"


"They can't. These are the old-fashioned
kind. They fasten with straps," Marmaduke
explained, and all the new roller-skates fasten
with clamps. So there is no market for them in
this country."
And why do they think they will sell in
Corea ? I asked, but with little interest, for the
whole scheme seemed to me very absurd. How
did the firm come to buy them ? "
"There 's a queer story about that," said
Marmaduke earnestly. They told me about
it in confidence; but I can tell you, because we
are going into this enterprise together."
"You 're sure of that ?" I asked, smiling in
spite of myself.
It 's a splendid chance! said Marmaduke.
"The way they came to buy them was this: the
senior partner of the firm is getting old and is a
little shaky in his intellect, but he loves to buy
things; and as his partners are his sons, they
don't like to interfere with his pleasure. Usu-
ally he buys only trifles, but somehow he had an
idea that these skates were a great investment
and he has bought hundreds of them. He
expects to realize,' as they say, a large profit."
How ridiculous! I broke in.
"I don't think so," said Marmaduke. "I
think the old man has a very level head. Do
you remember Lord Timothy Dexter and the
warming-pans ? "
No, I don't," I answered, and he was too
impatient to tell me about it. He was full of
the Corean enterprise.
Corea," he said, "is, they tell me, a new
country. That is, it has n't long been open to
commerce. I believe the natives will jump at
the skates !"
As I was tired and sleepy I refused to hear
anything more about so foolish a venture, and
went to bed. Marmaduke tried in vain to talk
to me as I was undressing. I shut my bed-
room door and put out the light.
Next morning, however, there was a very
strong argument in favor of the plan. That was
my lack of cash. I must do something, and
as this firm offered to pay all our expenses and
give us a commission besides, both on the present
lot of skates and on all for which we might make
a market, I could n't see that we risked any-
thing. Then, too, I was fond of the boy, was

glad to be with him, and had n't the heart to dis-
appoint him by refusing. In short, I consented,
though I was sure we were going on a fool's
So we set sail. Marmaduke was full of hope,
and I, though expecting nothing, was glad of
the sea-voyage and of the rest. The first part of
our journey was by steamer, and the latter part
was by a sailing vessel. The voyage was with-
out anything to compare in interest with our
adventures on land, so I will pass on to the
time when we were put ashore near a native vil-
lage which looked about as dreary and melan-
choly as any place could look. There was n't
a thing in sight except the low mud houses
thatched with a sort of rushes.
We found out afterwards that we had made a
serious mistake. The place to which our cargo
was consigned was something like a city-as
nearly as such things exist in Corea. But, by a
mistake in the name, we were landed upon an
island where no white man had preceded us.
Consequently, the natives had fled in terror
when the ship landed us and unloaded our boxes
of skates and then sailed away as rapidly as
possible. The captain, to judge by his hasty
departure, knew the character of the natives and
was glad to put a few leagues between his ship
and these savages. For savages they were, as
we soon found out. No sooner was the ship
out of sight than the bushes round about the
beach began to blossom with heads. Then the
natives came out one by one, and before we
fairly understood our position we were seized,
bound hand and foot, hoisted upon the shoul-
ders of some outlandish warriors, and borne
away in triumph, followed by a long file of
natives, carrying each a box of roller-skates.
We were entirely unarmed, and could have
made no resistance even if there had been time.
This is a pleasant beginning I said, with
some bitterness.
There 's nothing very unpleasant so far,"
said Marmaduke cheerfully. "You know I
was afraid we might have trouble with the cus-
tom-house, or that the freight charges might eat
up our profits."
"There does n't seem to be any trouble
about getting into the country, I must admit,"
I answered frankly. "But I am afraid there




may be some question about who owns the
goods when we get there."
I don't believe in going to seek trouble,"
said Marmaduke. "They evidently want our
company, and seem to have no objection to
carrying our baggage."
Meanwhile the Coreans made no remarks, but
kept up a steady jog-trot which soon brought
them to the center of the village, where they
halted before a hut larger than any we had seen.
Here they untied us, and made signs that we
should enter the hut.
"Probably the custom-house! I said dryly.
"The principal hotel, I think," said Marma-
duke, stretching his legs and arms.
The building contained only one room, and
at the further end of this sat the chief- at
least, we judged so because he was the crossest-
looking man in the room; and we subsequently
discovered that we were right.
Then began our trial. Though, of course, we
could not understand a word that was said, it
was very easy to follow the general line of the
First, the man who commanded the proces-
sion which brought us in told his story. He
described the ship, our landing, the ship's hasty
departure, the capture of ourselves, and, con-
cluding, pointed to the boxes.
Then the chief commanded one of the boxes
to be opened. It was forced open with a small
hatchet-like weapon, and one of the skates was
handed to the chief. He was completely puz-
zled. He blew on it, rubbed it over his head,
weighed it, tried to spin it, and then turned to
us saying something like:
"Walla ella ing kang cho ?"
Thereupon Marmaduke replied sweetly:
"Yes, most noble panjandrum. You have
hit it exactly. It 's a simple roller-skate. I see
you don't understand it at all, and I 'm not
surprised. You don't seem over-intelligent."
The chief shook his head impatiently and
growled. Then he picked up an ivory baton
lying by his side, and struck a sweet-toned
"I hope that's dinner," said Marmaduke,
and I agreed with him, providing we were to
be guests only, and not the choicest dainties on
the bill of fare.

But we were wrong. As the gong tones were
dying away, a curious figure entered the hut
and made its way toward the dais where the
chief was sitting. It was that of an old man
with a scanty snow-white beard. He carried
a carved rattle in his hand and shook it as he
Well, Old Rattle-box," said Marmaduke, I
hope you will help us out of this fix. Maybe
he 's an interpreter."
"More likely to be the head cook," was my
The newcomer conferred for a few moments
with the chief and then bent all his energies
to the mystery of the roller-skate. Needless to
say, it was too much for him. But he seemed
clever enough to pretend he knew all about it.
So, taking the skate very gingerly in his left
hand, he spun the little wheels with his right.
Then he dropped it as if it was a very hot
potato, and turning to the chief began to chat-
ter away in a tone which showed he was bringing
some frightful accusation against our innocent
The chief, as the old man spoke, drew him-
self away from the skate, which had fallen near
his foot, and regarded the harmless wheels and
straps with an expression of dread and distrust.
"I see the old fellow's game," said Marma-
duke. He does n't know at all what it is, any
more than his superb highness the ignoramus
on the bench. And so he has told them it 's
witchcraft, or bugaboo, or taboo, or something
of the kind. They '11 be for slaying us outright
in a moment, you '11 see."
And indeed in a minute the chief gave a hasty
order, and the soldiers advanced upon us.
Good-by, Marmaduke, my lad," said I, in
a sorrowful tone. Life is short at best, dear
friend, and-"
"Don't be a whiner yet," said Marmaduke.
" You have n't heard the counsel for the defense
yet. I '11 move the whole court-room to tears
in a moment."
You are a brave boy," said I, smiling sadly
at him. Good-by! I should not have led
you into this trouble."
You just keep quiet, and you '11 see me lead
you out of it," said Marmaduke. Then, while
the chief was giving some too plain directions to



" G TE S V G I H L H H S T L W W H R .


the guards, ending up by drawing his hand elo-
quently across his throat, Marmaduke arose to
his feet.
"Fellow-citizens!" he said. All the natives
turned toward him, for his voice was as com-
manding as that of a football captain. You
are making idiots of yourself. As for old Rattle-
box there, he does n't know beans. If there
were any sense in his noddle, he would have
guessed what the roller-skate was for in a jiffy.
Just see here." Then Marmaduke took a pencil
from his pocket, and seizing a piece of the pine
box began to draw a picture.
Now Marmaduke was a natural artist, and
consequently spoke a universal language. The
natives bent over to see what he was doing, and
even the chief elbowed his way to the front
after pushing over several of the other selfish
Marmaduke made a picture of himself on roller-
skates, gliding gracefully over the ground, and
drew a native running at full speed beside him.
In vain did Old Rattle-box" stand outside
shaking his head and muttering his disapproval.
Marmaduke's picture had excited the natives'
curiosity, and when he leaned over and took a
pair of skates from the box, seated himself, and
proceeded to put them on, only one hand was
raised to prevent him. Rattle-box tried to take
the skates from his hand and was soundly cuffed

by the deeply interested chief. Then we knew
that the tide had turned.
In a moment Marmaduke strapped on the
skates, and arose to his feet. Luckily, the floor
was of hard beaten earth and made an excellent
rink. As he glided gently along the floor the
chief caught him by the arm, pointed to the
door, smiled very significantly, and shook his
That 's all right, old man," said Marma-
duke cordially. "I 'm not going away. At least
not till I 've sold out my skates. Put a guard at
the door! and he pointed to a soldier and then
at the doorway. The chief was a quick-witted
old warrior and he saw the point at once. The
guard was posted. Then Marmaduke, who
was an excellent skater, motioned the crowd
back, and cut pigeon-wings to the admiration
of his spectators.
They laughed and shouted and clapped their
hands with delight. At last Marmaduke said
to me, "Don't you think that 's enough for the
present ? "
Yes," I replied, smiling in spite of myself.
"But I don't see what good it is going to do."
"Well, you shall see," said Marmaduke. So
then he glided gracefully on the outside edge "
over to the chief and made signs that he was
The chief, now in the best of humor, nodded,



laughed, and gave some orders to an attendant.
In a few minutes some hot rice and other food
(chickens, I think) was brought, and we sat
down to our first meal in Corea. But pre-
viously Marmaduke made signs to the chief to
send the crowd away, by pointing to the door
and pushing at the crowd.
The chief smiled again, cleared the room,
and contented himself with posting two strong
spearmen at the door.
As we ate our meal Marmaduke conversed
with the chief, and by patient endeavors at last
made him understand that he, the chief, could
also learn this wonderful art. Then the joy of
the old barbarian was unbounded, and he wished
to begin at once. But Marmaduke pointed to
the dinner, looked imploring at the chief, and
thus obtained a postponement until the meal
was done.
But no sooner was the table--or mat-
cleared, than the chief held out his feet for the
He will break his royal neck, sure! I said
nervously, thinking what our fate would be in
case of such a happening.

"We must support him," said Marmaduke.
"Put on your skates, and remember that if
' Jack falls down and breaks his crown,'- we 're
We put on our skates; we strapped the royal
feet firmly to the treacherous rollers, and helped
him up.
A fish out of water was nothing to the an-
tics of that unfortunate savage. One guard at
the door tried in vain to restrain his mirth.
When the king went scooting over the floor, as
we supported his limp frame with its two awk-
ward legs projecting aimlessly forward, the guard
burst into a loud guffaw. The chief, or king,
heard that unhappy man's laugh, and, struggling
wildly to his feet, roared an order to the other
guards. The unfortunate soldier was at once
hurried away to prison, or something worse.
Thereafter there was no outward levity.
We toiled with His Royal Highness for several
hours. He was plucky, and only gave up when
completely tired out. Then we took a recess
until the following morning.
For the next day or two we were in high favor
at court and-fared sumptuously; and when the

- -

* "- N
A- :



Oh, I think not," said Marmaduke cheer- king found that he could really skate alone he
fully, but we have to take some risks in every was perfectly happy. Of course he had a fall
business. This is a sort of speculation." or two, but the craze for roller-skating was upon
"But his feet will go out from under him at him, and Marmaduke's first exhibition had
the first step," I insisted, shown him that there was still much to learn.



Consequently he was anxious to keep our favor
and did not mind a bump or two.
At first the chief was unwilling to allow any
one else to learn; but Marmaduke, who had even
learned a few words of the language, persuaded
the old man that it would be great fun to see
Rattle-box learn to skate; and at last the chief
When the old medicine-man came in he was
horrified to see the ruler of his nation gliding
about the floor with considerable ease, and list-
ened with terror to the chief's command that
he, too, must acquire this art. But he did not
dare refuse; and, besides, the clever old man
foresaw that skating would be the fashion as
soon as the knowledge that the chief had
patronized it should become general.
I do not think the chief was ever more amused
in his life than when he watched Rattle-box take
his first instruction on the rollers. He laughed
till he cried, and even permitted the guards to
laugh, too. But the medicine-man was an apt
pupil, and before long there was a quartette of
fairly skilful performers on the floor.



for the sport. Soon the craze was so general
that the chief had to make penalties for those
who skated except at certain legal hours.
Marmaduke could by this time readily make
himself understood in simple sentences, though
he was not far enough advanced to comprehend
much that was said; and one day he announced
that he was ready to return to New York.
But they 'll never let us go in the world," I
said, somewhat out of temper. For, to tell the
truth, I was not at all pleased with Marmaduke's
apparent interest in this barbarous people.
Oh yes, they will," said he. You will see.
We '11 just get into a boat and row away."
And be a target for all the bowmen in the
island! I said. "You've had wonderful luck
so far, I admit. But I don't care to run a
skating-rink for Corean savages all my life."
Nor do I," said Marmaduke. I'm going
to give a grand tournament with prizes, and
then give up the business and leave Tongaloo
"And be eaten at the conclusion of the tour-

r I
1' I
-. I,. ,
-- 4'



Then we threw open the doors to the pub- I think not," he said, and turned again to
lic, and gave a grand exhibition. It would no his work. He was painting a large poster, with
doubt have run (or skated) a hundred nights or native dyes, representing a grand skating-race.
more. The success of the art was assured, and Over the top he had printed in large letters:
the next month was one long term of skating THE TONGALOO TOURNAMENT.
school. We had plenty of skates, and the chief
caused a large floor to be laid and roofed over "There! said he, as he finished, "now you



must do all you can to make the thing a
success "
So I did. I went about all day among the
skaters, saying:
Bonga Tongaloo tournament," Vanga goo
Tongaloo tournament," and other such phrases
as Marmaduke taught me. These words meant,

given, and away they went clatter, clatter,
clitter, clutter! down the road.
Gradually Marmaduke and I, though appa-
rently making unusual exertions, fell behind, and
as soon as the crowd had gained a good lead
on us we sat down, cut off our skates, and
struck out across country for the beach.

) I'


he said, that it was all the rage, and the correct
At last the great day arrived. The chief had
furnished the minor prizes, but the great event
of all was to be the final, straightaway race
open to all comers; and for this the first prize
was to be Marmaduke's gold watch, and the
second my stylographic pen.
The course was laid out along the best native
road, which Marmaduke had taught them to
macadamize for the occasion. The distance
was to be a mile out and then back again to
the starting point.
Every able-bodied islander was entered, and
Marmaduke and I put on our skates with the
Amid tremendous excitement, the signal was


One or two of the nearest skaters stared after
us, and then tried to pursue. But as they for-
got to remove their skates, as soon as they
reached rough ground they went over upon
their noses, like ninepins, and in a few minutes
we were far ahead.
We gained the beach just as the foremost
pursuers began to push their way through the
bushes, and, climbing into a boat, away we shot
toward a neighboring island which was occu-
pied by a more civilized race.
Well, we escaped without being hit by a sin-
gle arrow, and sailed for New York shortly

And the best of it is," said Uncle Ben, the
demand for skates has continued steady in that

I _





'~;. ."


island ever since, and both Marmaduke and I the youngest niece, and then, putting her fin-
made a very handsome competence from the gers to her lips, she said, Oh, I forgot," and
commissions." all the children filed away to supper in thought-
Oh, Uncle Ben, is that a true story ?" asked ful silence.

the clock'

little fed,

iave my tea,

o to bed.




SHOULD like in
these pages to pre-
sent to the readers
better and truer pic-
g ture of my grand-
father, Douglas Jer-
w rold, than is the one
I E. commonly drawn of
him. A picture, that
is, of the hardworking, painstaking youth, strug-
gling for name and fame in the battle of life, and
of the kindly, genial, sympathetic man of letters
when he had taken his place among the lead-
ing men of his time.
Douglas Jerrold was born in London on the
3d of January, 1803. His early years were
passed in Kent, first near Cranbrook and after-
ward at Sheerness, where he very early evinced
a desire to go to sea. This desire is not to
be wondered at, for there were stirring times,
then, for the British navy. It was the time
when Napoleon was at the height of his power,
when his victorious armies were cowing the
whole of the continent; when England alone
seemed capable of withstanding his progress, and
continued to maintain her supremacy of the
sea. In 1805, Trafalgar had been fought and
won, and the British navy was perhaps at the
very acme of its power and glory. Sheerness,
where Douglas Jerrold lived from 1807 to 1812,
was full of naval officers and seamen, and
we may be sure that innumerable tales of the
iniquity of Boney and his mounseers must
have reached the ears of the boy, firing him
with an ambition to distinguish himself in the
way that Nelson' had done. It was at Sheer-
ness that Douglas went to school, though but
for a short time ; it was at Sheerness, too, that
he began to show evidence of a remarkable avid-
ity for reading. A slight, fair-haired, and fair-
complexioned boy, constitutionally not strong,.

though full of fire and energy, he did not asso-
ciate much with other children. Indeed, in after
years, he laughingly said that at Sheerness his
only companion was the "little buoy at the
Nore," and, he would add, The only athletic
sport I ever mastered was backgammon."
Wishing, as he did, to join the navy, Douglas
Jerrold had this desire partly realized while he
was still very young. He was not quite eleven
years of age when he became a first-class vol-
unteer" on board His Majesty's* ship "Namur."
The Namur was the guard-ship at the Nore,
and Jerrold soon realized that life on board was
not quite what he had supposed. It is true,
though, that the time (rather more than a year
and a quarter) spent on board the Namur was
not unpleasantly nor unprofitably passed. Cap-
tain Austen (a brother of Miss Jane Austen, the
novelist) was a good, kindly man; the young mid-
shipman was allowed to keep pigeons on board,
and to spend many hours in the captain's cabin
reading such books as could be found there,
notably Buffon's Natural History." Alove of
animals was all his life long a strongly marked
characteristic. It was on board the Namur, too,
that Douglas Jerrold first met Clarkson Stanfield
(who afterward became famous as an artist), with
whom he used to get up private theatricals and
entertainments. Altogether, life on board the
Namur cannot have been very unpleasant to
the young midshipman,who was, however, thirst-
ing for a more active part. In April, 1815, he
succeeded in getting transferred from His Maj-
esty's guard-ship Namur to His Majesty's brig
"Ernest." Thebrigwas engaged in transporting
English soldiers to the continent and in bring-
ing home invalided and wounded men; so that
though Jerrold had none of the awful excite-
ment of action, he had horrible experience of
its results, when, in the cockpit of the Ernest,
soldiers were brought home, shattered and
maimed, to the country they had recently left

*George III.


in good health and full glow of enthusiasm. The
effect of such scenes on a highly sensitive nature
at a most impressionable period of life might well
be imagined, even though we did not know of
their deep and lasting effect on Douglas Jerrold,
who to the end of his days was always among
the foremost in denouncing war, and oppression
of all kinds. Scarcely a work which he has writ-
ten but bears evidence of it. With the midsum-
mer of 1815 came the battle of Waterloo and
the final overthrow of the power of Napoleon.
Only five days before that decisive battle, the
brig Ernest had entered Ostend harbor along
with several transports crowded with soldiers
destined to take part in the great encounter
of Wellington and Bonaparte. After Waterloo,
peace was not long in coming; and with peace
came orders to pay off the company of many a
ship, among others that of the brig Ernest, and on
October 21, i815, Midshipman Jerrold stepped
on shore and turned his back forever on the
sea as the field where he should strive to win
renown. A story connected with Jerrold's
short period of naval service may well find a
place here. On one occasion the midshipman,
having gone ashore with the captain, was left
for a time in charge of the boat. While the
captain was away, two of the men asked for
permission to go and buy something. Permis-
sion was given by their youthful and too good-
natured officer, who added:
By the way, you may as well buy me some
apples and a few pears."
"All right, sir," said the men, and off they
The captain returned, but not the men;
search was made for them, but they were not
to be found; they had deserted, and Midship-
man Jerrold was in sad disgrace. The event
made a lasting impression upon him, so deep a
one indeed that he said he could recognize
the deserters at any time, as indeed he did.
Some thirty years afterward, as he was passing
along the Strand, the ex-midshipman was struck
by the appearance of a baker's man, who was
looking into a shop window; he walked up to
him, and rapping him sharply on the back, said:
I say, my friend, don't you think you 've
been rather a long time about that fruit?"
The deserter was horror-struck at being dis-

covered, and could only gasp out, "Lor'! sir,
is that you?" when Jerrold went on his way
After he left the navy it was not very long be-
fore Douglas Jerrold's energies were devoted
to another occupation. At the close of the
year his family left Sheerness and removed to
London, reaching that city on the first day of
January, 1816. Douglas was then but thirteen
years of age. Shortly after arriving in London
he was apprenticed to a printer. He had, as I
have mentioned, already shown a great taste
for reading; he welcomed, therefore, the work
of a compositor, as it brought a yet closer ac-
quaintance with books. Indeed he had already
begun to think of writing, as the following
story shows. A Mr. Wilkinson, an actor who
had come to London about this time, called
on the Jerrolds. I cannot forget," he wrote
long afterward, "how glad Douglas was to see
me, and how sanguine he was of my success,
saying, Oh! Mr. Wilkinson, you are sure to
succeed, and I '11 write a piece for you.' I gave
him credit for his kind feeling," adds the actor,
" but doubted his capacity to fulfil his promise."
The promise was, however, duly fulfilled, as we
shall shortly see. Not only was the boy already
dreaming of work to be done, but he was striv-
ing hard and making himself fit to do that work.
A compositor's is not by any means a light oc-
cupation, and it was even less so in the earlier
part of this century. But though he had to
be at his work early and to remain at it late,
Douglas Jerrold would be up with the first
peep of day that he might get on with the
various studies which he had mapped out for
himself. Miscellaneous reading was continued
at every available opportunity. Shakspere was
taken up at this time and every line of the
great plays devoured. The novels of Walter
Scott were borrowed from a library, and eagerly
enjoyed, Douglas reading them aloud to his
Already, too, he was beginning to use the
pen. About a year after making the prom-
ise to Mr. Wilkinson, the piece was written
(1818) and sent in to the English Opera House,
where it lay for two years before the young
author succeeded even in getting it back. How-
ever, in 1821, Wilkinson was acting at Sadler's




Wells Theater, and there was produced, on
April 3oth of that year, the farcical comedy in
two acts, More Frightened than Hurt." The
play, much to the gratification of the ambitious
young author, proved a great success. Shortly
after this piece was written, but some time before
it was acted, Douglas Jerrold was transferred
to the printing-office of the Sunday Monitora
of London, in which paper appeared one of
the earliest pieces of his writing. As young
Benjamin Franklin had done in similar circum-
stances, Douglas Jerrold wrote a short paper
and dropped it in the editor's letter-box. It may
be easily imagined how pleased he was the fol-
lowing morning when his own manuscript was
given him to set up in type, and when he saw
a line written on it from the editor asking for
further contributions from the anonymous writer.
Ever hard at work in the early morning, and
late at night continuing his studies, he was yet
finding time to try his hand at occasional verses
and sketches, and sending them in to the various
minor magazines of the day. His sisters could
recall the delight with which he would rush
into the room with some fresh periodical in
his hand, shouting "It's in, it's in!" The
" Monitor's" dramatic criticisms were entrusted
to him and, as similar work increased, he took
the bold step of leaving the compositor's case and
adopting writing as his profession. He was not
yet twenty-one, but that he had not over-esti-'
mated his own abilities was soon proved. By
the year 1824, in addition to his miscellaneous
writing, four plays of his had been produced,
and in the year following he was appointed
play-writer to the Coburg Theater at a weekly
salary, to write pieces, dramas, farces, and
dramatic squibs," whenever they were required.
He was already becoming conscious of his
literary powers, and his friends were, too, as
we may see by the following extract from a
sonnet addressed to him during this year (1824)
by his friend Laman Blanchard:
The time shall be
When men may find a music in thy name,
To rouse deep fancies and opinions free;
Affections fervid as the sun's bright flame,
And sympathies unfathom'd as the sea.
The time which his friend thus foretold for
him was yet to come; meanwhile, he never

stopped for a single day in pursuit of his studies.
Latin, French, and Italian all had to be mas-
tered and indeed were mastered in course of
time, by dint of incessant hard work. For about
four years did little Shakspere in a camlet
cloak," as some of his friends at this time nick-
named Jerrold, continue his engagement at the
CoburgTheater. In 1829, having quarreled with
the manager of the Coburg, and having to look
about for a fresh field for his dramatic labors, he
turned toward the Surrey Theater. An engage-
ment similar to the other one was entered into,
and Jerrold handed to Elliston, the manager of
the Surrey Theater, the manuscript of a new
piece as a beginning. On June 8, 1829, that
play was produced it was Black-Eyed Su-
san," and it proved a greater success than any
previous dramatic venture. Other plays were
written during the same year, and in 1830
came "Thomas a Becket," a higher form of
drama than any the writer had then tried.
This also, was very successful, and the author
was duly complimented. A friend congratu-
lated him, saying, "You '11 be the Surrey Shak-
spere." "The sorry Shakspere, you mean,"
was Jerrold's modest reply.
From this time his fame as a dramatist was
assured, and before long his comedies and
dramas were delighting large audiences at the
leading theaters, as they had already done for
some time at the minor ones. It was sug-
gested that he should adapt a piece from the
French (as so many other dramatists then
did) for the Drury Lane stage. No," was
his indignant reply, I will come into this thea-
ter as an original dramatist, or not at all." All
his life long he bitterly protested against the
fashion of translating and adapting, which ex-
cluded the work of native writers, and gave a
reputation to men for work which they had not
originated. Talking once with Mr. Planch6 (a
noted adapter of plays) on this question, Planch6
insisted that some of his characters were original.
Don't you remember," he said," myBaroness
in 'Ask No Questions'? "
"Yes, indeed. I don't think I ever saw a
piece of yours without being struck by your
barrenness," was the pointed reply.
Contributing to various periodicals of the day
and continuous writing of new plays occupied



Douglas Jerrold for the few years next follow-
ing. The well-known domestic drama of The
Rent Day" was produced in 1832. During its
rehearsal the author and Clarkson Stanfield
met in the dingy little theater for the first time
since they had parted on board the Namur
some sixteen years before.
William Godwin, the venerable author of
" Political Justice," who was father-in-law of the
poet Shelley, became one of Douglas Jerrold's
friends during the earlier part of his career. Of
one visit to the Godwins, Jerrold often told
afterward. He was a clever whistler, and
was very fond of exercising the gift; he whis-
tled," as his younger daughter tells me, like
any blackbird or lark." One day, having called
upon the Godwins, he was kept waiting in the
drawing room for a few minutes; regardless of
" appearances," he began to whistle, with varia-
tions enough to satisfy the most ambitious of
thrushes. Suddenly good little Mrs. Godwin
gently opened the door, paused--not seen
by the performer-to catch the dying notes
of the air, and then, coming up to her visitor,
startled him with the request, made in all se-
riousness, You could n't whistle that again,
Mr. Jerrold, could you ?' "
From about 1830, Douglas Jerrold's posi-
tion began to be much more assured; he
was writing plays which were successful, and
contributing sketches and reviews to many of
the important periodicals. A great deal of
work was done between 1830 and 1840, but
I have not space to enter into any detail of
it here. By the last-named year, indeed, he
had won no mean position for himself in the
world of letters. He had had a hard fight
against many adverse circumstances, but had
succeeded in overcoming them all. I have al-
ready mentioned that several languages were
learned by dint of early rising and hard work.
"No man," he was known afterwards to say,
ever achieved anything in life without having
got up at six o'clock every morning at some
period of his life." In the year 1838, Douglas
Jerrold gathered together some of his sketches
and, with additional ones, published them in three
volumes as Men of Character." They were
illustrated byno less a person than William Make-
peace Thackeray. In 1840, he became editor of

that widely known and well appreciated series
of sketches which bears the name of Heads
of the People." Illustrated by Kenny Mead-
ows, the sketches were written by Thackeray,
Richard Hengist Home, Laman Blanchard,
Jerrold himself, and other well-known writers.
The papers contributed to the series by the
editor bear the title of Sketches of the Eng-
lish in his collected works.
In 1841, a new field in which to display his
genius was opened up to Jerrold, when on
the i7th of July of that year, Henry Mayhew
(who married Jerrold's elder daughter) started
Punch on its most successful career. The pages
of that well-known periodical were destined to
receive some of the most popular of Jerrold's
writings and also some of his most mature and
characteristic work. When the paper started,
my grandfather was in Boulogne, and though
he had been invited to contribute to the new
venture, nothing was received from him in time
for the first number; his earliest contribution ap-
peared in the second number and thenceforward
with hardly a week's intermission he continued
to contribute up to the time of his death in 1857.
There is no space for me to linger over this
period, so I can do no more than mention
some of Jerrold's more famous contributions to
Punch. First, there were the numberless fan-
ciful, yet thoughtful, articles signed Q.," which
in no small degree contributed to gain for
Punch that political power which he has so
long wielded. Then came Punch's Letters to
his Son"; the delicate "Story of a Feather";
the remarkably popular Mrs. Caudle's Cur-
tain Lectures "; and numerous short sketches,
tales, paragraphs, squibs, and all the miscellanea
of wit and wisdom for which Punch at once
gained a name.
Various periodicals were started and contin-
ued by Douglas Jerrold during the decade
1840-1850, but in 1852, on accepting the edi-
torship of Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, he found
himself addressing an enormously large circle
of readers. In the columns of that paper, the
weekly circulation of which increased by thou-
sands, appeared some of the best and most in-
fluential of his political writings.
When Kossuth, the Hungarian patriot, visited
England in 1853, Jerrold started a collection of



penny subscriptions for a national present to
him. The pence were collected, and, Kossuth
having learned English by studying Shakspere
in an Austrian prison, a magnificent set of the
great poet's works was bought, inclosed in a
casket model of Shakspere's house, and publicly
presented to Kossuth by my grandfather, in the
name of the people of England.
I have roughly outlined my grandfather's life
and work. Toward a better understanding of
him it is now necessary to give some account of
him personally, of his home life at Putney,
where, acknowledged as among the great men
of the day, and surrounded by his family and a
large circle of friends, some of his happiest years
were spent.
To give some idea of Douglas Jerrold at
home, let me quote a passage from what his
eldest son has written on the subject: It is a
bright morning, about eight o'clock, at West
Lodge. The windows at the side of the old
house, buried in trees, afford glimpses of a broad
common tufted with purple heather and yellow
gorse. Gipsies are encamped where the blue
smoke curls amid the elms. A window sash is
shot sharply up. A clear, small voice is heard
singing within. And now a long roulade, whistled
softly, floats out. A little, spare figure with a
stoop, habited in a short shooting-jacket, the
throat quite open, without collar or kerchief,
and crowned with a straw hat, pushes through
the gate of the cottage, and goes with short
quick steps, assisted by a stout stick, over the
common. A little black-and-tan terrier follows,
and rolls over the grass at intervals, as a response
to a cheery word from its master. The gipsy
encampment is reached. The gipsies know
their friend, and a chat and a laugh ensue.
Then a deep gulp of the sweet morning air,
a dozen branches pulled to the nose, here
and there in the garden, the children kissed,
and breakfast and the morning papers.
"The breakfast is a jug of cold, new milk,
some toast, bacon, water-cresses. A long ex-
amination of the papers- here and there a bit
of news energetically read aloud, then cut, and
put between clippers. Then silently, suddenly,
into the study.
This study is a very snug room. All about it
are books. Crowning the shelves are Milton

and Shakespere. A bit of Shakespere's mul-
berry tree lies upon the mantelpiece. Above
the sofa are The Rent Day and Distrain-
ing for Rent," Sir David Wilkie's pictures. In
the corner of one is Wilkie's inscription to the
the author of the drama called "The Rent Day."
The furniture is simple, solid oak. The desk
has not a speck upon it. The marble shell,
upon which the inkstand rests, has no litter in
it. Various notes lie in a row, between clips,
on the table. The paper-basket stands near
the armchair, prepared for answered letters and
rejected contributions. The little dog follows
his master into the study and lies at his feet.
"Work begins. If it be a comedy, the author
will now and then walk rapidly up and down the
room, talking wildly to himself; if it be Punch
copy, you shall hear him laugh presently as he
hits upon a droll bit.
Suddenly the pen is put down, and through
a little conservatory, without seeing anybody, the
author passes out into the garden, where he
talks to the gardener, or watches, chuckling the
while, the careful steps of the little terrier amid
the gooseberrybushes; or plucks a hawthorn leaf,
and goes nibbling it, and thinking, down the side
walks. In again and vehemently to work. The
thought has come; and, in letters smaller than
the type in which they shall presently be set, it
is unrolled along the little blue slips of paper.
The work goes rapidly forward, and halts at
last suddenly. The pen is dashed aside; a
few letters, seldom more than three lines in
each, are written and despatched to the post;
and then again into the garden. The fowls and
pigeons are noticed; a visit is paid to the horse
and cow; then another long turn; at last, a
seat, with a quaint old volume, in the tent
under the umbrageous mulberry tree."
In person Douglas Jerrold was very short;
writing at the age of twenty-four, of the Drill
Sergeant," he said, We feel our safety and glory
in the height of five feet one." No one could
fail to be struck by the handsome head with its
long silvery hair, the face with its large bushy
eyebrows over piercing blue eyes, the firm de-
termined chin and fine mobile mouth. No
marble, nor photograph, nor oil-painting has
given the fire that was in that face."
He was of a remarkably affectionate and


sympathetic character, as his numerous friends
were aware. Indeed, no better refutation of the
common notion of his bitterness and cynicism
can be given than by quoting words writ-
ten of him by people who knew him well. Mr.
and Mrs. Cowden Clarke said in their delight-
ful Recollections of Writers ": The leading
characteristic of Douglas Jerrold's nature was
earnestness. He was earnest in his abhorrence

of all things mean and interested; earnest in his
noble indignation at wrong and oppression;
earnest in the very wit with which he vented
his sense of detestation for evil-doing. He was
deeply earnest in all serious things; and very
much in earnest when dealing with matters
apparently less important which he thought
needed the scourge of a sarcasm. Any one
who could doubt the earnestness of Jerrold,
should have seen him when a child was the
topic; the fire of his eye, the quiver of his lip,
bore witness to the truth of the phrase he
himself uses in his charming drama of 'The
Schoolfellows,' showing that to him, indeed,
'Children are sacred things!'"

Charles Dickens said: "Few of his friends,
I think, can have had more favorable oppor-
tunities of knowing him in his gentlest and
most affectionate aspect than I have had. He
was one of the gentlest and most affectionate
of men. I remember very well when I first
saw him, in about the year 1835, when I went
into his sick-room in Thistle Grove, Brompton,
and found him propped up in a great chair;
bright-eyed and quick, and eager in spirit, but
very lame in body, he gave me an impression
of tenderness. It never became dissociated
from him. There was nothing cynical or sour
in his heart, as I knew it. In the company of
children and young people he was particularly
happy, and showed to extraordinary advantage.
He never was so gay, so sweet-tempered, so
pleasing and so pleased as then."
Mr. Hannay, too (in the Atlantic Miontl/y for
Nov. 1857), wrote in a graceful and sympathetic
tribute to my grandfather's memory shortly after
his death: He had none of the airs of suc-
cess or reputation--none of the affectations,
either personal or social, which are rife every-
where. He was manly and natural-free and
off-handed to the verge of eccentricity. Inde-
pendence and marked character seemed to
breathe from the little, rather bowed figure
crowned with a lion-like head and falling light
hair-to glow in the keen, eager blue eyes
glancing on either side as he walked along.
Nothing could be less commonplace; nothing
less conventional, than his appearance in a
room or in the streets."
Yet another friend wrote: I found him the
most genial, sincere, and fatherly of men." And,
yet again, Mr. Hepworth Dixon, writing in the
Athenceum, said that if every one who had re-
ceived a kindness at the hands of Douglas Jer-
rold flung a flower upon his grave, the spot
would be marked by a monument of roses.
Yet another friend who knew him well wrote:
He will be recalled by those who knew and
loved him, not by any high-sounding appella-
tion, but by some affectionate and soft diminu-
tive-not as brilliant Douglas, or magnificent
Douglas, but simply and fondly as dear Douglas."
I have already alluded to my grandfather's
love of animals; his delight in children is grace-
fully touched upon in the words quoted above



from Dickens and the Cowden Clarkes. From
the time when as a child officer in the navy he
kept pigeons and read Buffon's" Natural His-
tory" on board the Namur, he was always fond
of animals, and ever had some fresh anecdote
to tell of them. A favorite black cat of his,
named Chum," used to sit on the corner of his
desk, watching his busy pen with apparent
interest, often, too, with a quill pen in its mouth.
Frequently when working in his study, Douglas
Jerrold would have Chum on the desk, a pet
terrier, Mouse," at his feet, and Vix," a bull-
terrier, under his chair. Many were the tales
told of little Mouse, how jealous she was of
any attention paid to the cat; how, too, she
would beg "like a prince of the blood."
Mouse and Vix always went with their master
on his morning's walk. Writing from Brighton
but two months before his death, he finishes his
letter with love to all (Mouse included)."
The following simple anecdote shows, I think,
my grandfather's kindliness of nature as well
as anything can. While living at Putney he
ordered a brougham, plain and quiet, to be
built for him. He went one morning to the
coach-builder's shop to see the new carriage.
Its surface was without a speck. Ah said
the customer as he turned to the back of the
vehicle, "its polish is perfect now; but the
urchins will soon cover it with scratches."
But, sir, I can put a few spikes here, that
will keep any urchins off," the coach-maker
By no means, man," was the sharp, severe
reply. "And know that, to me, a thousand
scratches on my carriage would be more wel-
come than one on the hand of a footsorelad, to
whom a stolen lift might be a godsend."
This short paper may fitly be concluded with
a few specimens of Douglas Jerrold's wit in
conversation. Examples might be multiplied
a hundredfold, but half a dozen must suffice
-A prosy gentleman was in the habit of stop-
ping, if he met Jerrold, to have a chat in the
street. Jerrold disliked this. One day Prosy
met his victim and, planting himself in the

way, said, Well, Jerrold, what is going on
to-day ?"
Jerrold replied (sharply dashing past the in-
quirer) : "I am."
-The discussion on music, at a social club
to which Jerrold belonged, was animated, and a
certain song was cited as an exquisite composi-
tion. That song," exclaimed an enthusiast,
" always carries me away when I hear it! "
Jerrold asked (looking eagerly round the
table) : Can anybody whistle it ? "
Jerrold and Laman Blanchard were stroll-
ing together about London, earnestly discussing a
plan forjoining Byron, in Greece. Jerrold,telling
the story long after, said, But a shower of rain
came on and washed all the Greece out of us."
In the midst of a stormy discussion, a gentle-
man rose to settle the matter in dispute. Waving
his hand majestically over the excited dispu-
tants he began: "Gentlemen, all I want is
common sense!-"
"Exactly," Jerrold interrupted. The discus-
sion was lost in a burst of laughter.
-" Call that a kind man?" said an actor,
speaking of an absent acquaintance-" a man
who is away from his family, and never sends
them a farthing? Call that kindness ? "
"Yes, unremitting kindness," Jerrold replied.
-Jerrold said to an ardent young gentleman
who longed to see himself in print: Be advised
by me, young man; don't take down the shut-
ters before there is something in the window."
-When an elderly lady complained, perhaps
rather affectedly, that her hair was turning gray
from her using essence of lavender (as she said),
Jerrold asked whether it was n't essence of thyme.
-Jerrold went to a party at which a Mr. Pep-
per had assembled all his friends. On entering
the room he said to his host: My dear Mr.
Pepper, how glad you must be to see all your
friends mustered! "
-An old lady was in the habit of talking to
Jerrold, in a gloomy depressing manner, pre-
senting to him only the sad side of life. Hang
it!" said Jerrold one day after a long and som-
ber interview, "she would n't allow there was a
bright side to the moon."




[Begun in the May number.]
THE next morning Ben and the boys were
aroused at an early hour, and were set to work
on one of the largest junks, which was being
fitted out for sea. They worked steadily all
the morning.
At noon the door of Frank's prison was sud-
denly flung open and against the strong light
appeared the figure of the chief. Two of his
guards were stationed outside, and as he en-
tered Frank noticed that the uniform of the
previous day had been changed for a still
plainer dress of white duck canvas which
fitted closely to the chief's slender figure. A
glittering shirt of mail was hardly concealed
beneath his shirt, while a fine revolver and
heavy-handled creese hung at his side.
Pausing midway in the room, he extended a
paper and bade Frank read it. It was a de-
mand on Frank's company to pay $5000 for
the young commander's ransom and $2000
more for that of Ben and the boys. "You see,
Mr. Austin," said the chief politely,," that I
have acceded to your wishes regarding your
men. As you evidently value them highly, I
conclude they must be of some worth to your
employers also. So I have set what seems a
proper price on their services. Sign a post-
script indorsing that demand, and in a few
days you will probably be on your way to China
again. Refuse, and you go to work to-morrow
with the rest of the slaves."
Allow me to consult with my men when they
return," responded Frank, with equal courtesy,
"and I will give you an immediate answer."
When Frank's comrades returned from work,
he laid before them the chief's demand. After
much opposition on Frank's part, Ben pre-
vailed upon the young captain to accept it.

"You see, sir," Ben reasoned, "if you get
back safely you can send help to the rest of
us. Whereas, if we all remain, it means sure
death to us in a few weeks at the most. The
work is so hard, now, that I can hardly stand
under it. I saw a young fellow about your
own age cruelly beaten to-day because he
could not carry a heavy beam across the ship-
yard. The poor lad was soon afterwards sun-
struck. The heat out there is terrible. You
could n't endure it a single week, I know."
Convinced by Ben's reasoning, the next
morning Frank sent the chief word that he
would accept the proposal, and the necessary
agreement having been signed he was returned
to his prison.
Late at night, Ben and the boys returned
from their work, even more exhausted than
they had been the previous day. Not only had
the labor demanded of them been very severe,
but a slave-driver had lashed them unmerci-
fully whenever they showed any signs of fail-
ing. Something unusual was evidently on foot
in the settlement, for great activity prevailed in
the shipyard, making the junks ready for sea;
even two old battered hulks, hardly fit to sail,
were towed around from the river, and were
being patched up as well as possible. A night
gang had been added to hasten the work, and
the sounds of industry continued late into the
morning hours.
Soon after daylight the chief appeared, sur-
rounded by his guards, and invited Frank to
take a walk with him. He was perfectly cour-
teous in his manner, now that he had gained
his point about the ransom papers, and seemed
even sociably inclined.
As they approached the river, Frank noticed
many changes in the village. Most of the
houses seemed deserted, while busy crowds of
workmen thronged the beach. Here and there
huge fires were burning, at which the women


prepared quantities of rations for the hungry
Enormous sails of matting were spread on
the sands, each surrounded by dexterous
workers repairing rents, or plaiting new
breadths. Under some palm-trees several
fierce-looking blacksmiths were at work, forg-
ing together broken links of chains, and fash-
ioning various pieces of iron-work required for
the shipping. Near the forge stood little
boys, to blow the curious leather cylinder bel-
lows. At a spring hard by, one gang of men
were filling water-casks, which when ready
were towed out to junks anchored in mid-
stream. On board these vessels, a busy throng
of slaves were scraping and painting, like a
swarm of bees; while the resounding blows
of hammers told of native ship-carpenters in-
dustriously at work. High up the masts hung
clusters of swarthy sailors, fixing top-hamper to
the yards, or reeving fresh running-rigging. At
one spot on shore, slaves were busily twisting
strands into a huge grass rope, or hawser, of im-
mense length and strength.
As Frank moved about
with the chief amid scenes
of busy confusion, he per-
ceived that the pirate chief
evidently possessed all the -
requirements necessary to
the leader of a crowd of
such men. Constantly be-
sieged by questions from all ....
sides regarding the work in --
progress, his orders were _-
always promptly given. In
many cases he even cor-
rected with his own hands -"
the faulty work of some of
the less skilful men. Pass-
ing quickly from group to
group, he gave orders and advice with such
nervous activity that the meanest slave seemed
to receive new energy from his example; and
Frank could not but regret that a man of his
fine executive abilities should devote them to
the shameful purposes of piracy.
On arriving at the landing, he saw Ben,
Proddy, and Joe, amid the gangs of slaves who,
in pairs, were carrying heavy wooden anchors

toward the boats. The hot sun poured down on
the struggling mass of men as they were urged
on by the whip of the overseer. Frank saw Ben
struck by the cruel lash, and sick at heart he
turned to the chief, imploring him to have com-
passion on his friends. He begged that, for a
while at least, they might be relieved of their
tasks. Gladly would Frank have interceded
for the rest, also, but he knew his interference
would be of no avail.
"Were any of those men with you when the
'Arizona'fired at the waterspout, in the Mal-
acca Straits? the pirate asked.
"Yes," responded Frank, astonished at the
chief's knowledge of an event which had hap-
pened some two years before, when Frank was
upon a vessel of that name. "Ben Herrick,
there, fired the shot."
"Then he can be relieved," answered the
chief, graciously.
Ben was at once ordered out of the gang of
toilers. He was much surprised at his release,
and thanked Frank heartily for his intervention.

R\ -

You see, sir," he said, I 'm not as young
as Joe and Proddy, and I get tired sooner than
I used to, on account of that hot sun. And I
would n't mind the work so much, if it were n't
for that yellow rascal there, flourishing his whip
over me all the time. It riles me, like; and once
or twice I told him pretty plainly what I thought
of him. But he does n't like 'back talk,' and
only thrashed the harder. My shoulder 's all


a-blister with the thrashings that savage has
given me, and that 's a fact."
When Frank told Ben what the chief had
said, the old man was puzzled.
"How the chief here knows anything about
the old Arizona is beyond me! I wonder what
that waterspout has to do with this business any-
way ? said the old man. But his curiosity
was not gratified.

By noon all the preparations seemed to be
finished, and all hands knocked off for tiffin,"
and gathered under the shade of the wide,
thatched house-porches, or under the forest
During the afternoon the junks were towed
out of the river and lay in the bay ready to put
out to sea, while crowds lined the beach to bid
their friends good-by and to wish them good
As the evening shadows fell, two beacon fires
flashed out on the high cliffs on both sides of
the entrance to the landlocked harbor. One
by one the junks now got under way. The
heavy sails were spread; the crews manned the
sweeps, and, setting up their rowing chants, sent
the boats swiftly toward the harbor's mouth.
The last one to leave was the pirate chiefs
vessel, the largest, handsomest, and swiftest of
the fleet. The tall, tapering masts, the huge,
dark sails suspended from the yards, the two
rows of dusky oarsmen extending forward on
both sides of the deck, the heavy trestles for
holding the booms, and the dark shapes of the
cannon ranged along the low bulwarks made
up a busy scene, of a certain wild and warlike
On the high deck aft, the chief stood watch-
ing the fires at the harbor entrance. These fires
had now increased to twelve in number.
Presently a bright flash pierced the darkness,
and was followed by the report of a small can-
non echoing across the water. At this a shout
of applause went up from those on the beach,
for the signal denoted that twelve of the thirteen
junks had passed safely through the dangerous
way between the cliffs at the entrance.

The captain gave an order, a gong boomed
in the gangway, the twenty sweeps struck the
water together, and the swift vessel rapidly
gathered headway. A cool night breeze just
moved the rigging, and, as they passed through
the gap, Frank noticed that one more fire was
added to the others. Then all the fires sud-
denly went out together, leaving the cliffs in
darkness, with one solitary palm-tree standing
black against the lighter sky.
The oarsmen now broke into a wild, monoto-
nous song, keeping time with the rush of their
bending sweeps. When the land-breeze caught
the great sails, the clipper slowly heeled to lee-
ward and sped on into the gloom of the tropical
As the island slowly faded from view, Frank
noted that the great star of the Southern Cross
just tipped the summit of the mountain, and
that the rising moon bore a little off the star-
board bow. As he turned toward the cabin,
he overheard the captain talking to his lieuten-
ant. This is what Frank made out:
"When that French gunboat gets here to-
morrow, she '11 be mightily surprised to find us
gone and the settlement deserted! -if she can
get so far. But I doubt if they find the gap
in the cliff. Besides, if they had caught us
inside, I 'm certain they never would have got
"Yes, sir," replied the man, "they would
have had a hard time. But it 's just as well we
did n't meet them. Fighting cruisers is prof-
itless work. They 're not such fat picking as
the birds we are now after!"
Turning to Frank the captain said signifi-
cantly : It 's not usual for us to keep prison-
ers long, on this craft. They are too much
trouble, and we usually believe in the rule that
'dead men tell no tales,' but it happens that
I have special reasons for treating you other-
wise. Do not attempt to escape, for the crew
have orders not to spare you if you should.
Remember that. Come, we had better go be-
low, as it is late."
Frank followed him, and found himself in a
spacious room, luxuriously fitted. The walls
were covered with shields, armor, and curious
swords, and shaded lamps shed a soft glow over
the rich fittings.




T-'--& ------------


This is your apartment," said the chief, "and
you can make yourself as comfortable here as
you like. But do not try to leave it without
permission from the guard outside. Now you
must excuse me, as I have important duties
to attend to elsewhere." Bowing politely, the
chief withdrew.
Left alone, Frank examined the various ob-
jects in the saloon with great interest. Porce-
lain vases adorned the corners; rich kincob
cloths, or fabrics woven heavily with gold and
silver threads worked in beautiful arabesque
patterns, were seen here and there on the walls,
while Delhi gold and silver ornaments deco-
rated the panels. Rich Rampoor chuddah
shawls, of texture so fine that they might easily
be drawn through a finger-ring, draped the
transoms, and on one side a cabinet flashed
with tortoise-shell ware from Ceylon, pretty
conches from the Malabar coast, and a hun-
dred other adornments.
Seeing an American repeating-rifle, Frank
tried to take it down, but found that it was se-
curely fastened to the wall, as were all the other
Examining the panels beneath the draperies,
Frank found them to be riveted iron. He then
drew aside the curtains from the stern windows,
and noticed that these were closely barred. The
room was evidently intended to be used as a
parlor, arsenal, or prison, at its owner's pleasure.
Presently a slight rustle attracted his attention,

and turning around Frank found a doorway
where a moment before he had seen nothing
but a curtained wall. In this doorway stood
the captain.
"How do you like your quarters, Mr. Aus-
tin ? he asked with a smile.
I am much surprised at their rich furniture,"
Frank replied.
It is my cabin, while in port. This one," he
said, pointing through the doorway in which he
stood, is my sea room. Walk in and smoke a
cigar, and have some wine."
"Thank you, but I never indulge in either,"
was the reply.
For a moment the captain eyed him search-
ingly, then politely said: "As you please; but
you will have some fruit? We rarely take it
at night, in the East; but I know that you
Europeans do."
Touching a bell, an attendant entered bear-
ing a tray loaded with oranges, pineapples, ba-
nanas, and that delicious fruit only obtainable in
the Eastern Seas, the mangosteen.
Frank had noticed that everything in the
room where they now were was as plain as the
furnishing of the other was magnificent. Notic-
ing his look, the captain remarked: "These,
as I told you, are my sea quarters; everything
is of the plainest and most substantial kind.
I have to set my men an example in such things.
They know that while ashore they can be idle
and extravagant, if they can afford it; but when


we are on blue water, we attend to business -
and they must give their entire attention to the
work in hand."
After they had thus conversed pleasantly for
a while, the captain turned to our hero, and
exclaimed, with an air of frankness:
Mr. Austin, I have taken a fancy to you,
and, to tell the truth, shall be loath to part
with you when your :i;n:-im i: p.i. No: ..
I am about to make L:,u
an offer which you mw,
think unwarranted, c,: m-
ing from one you b.r- ,
known so short a tim,-.
but I have heard of ',.-.,
long before this. Anr,l.
to tell the truth, I hl'.e
some knowledge of al-
most all who are enga .-. I.
in mercantile pursuit_ :-r
the Continent and rl-,e
Islands. In fact,
that is a necessity
of my business," .
he said, with a -" .-
significant smile...
"My agents have
kept me so well
informed that I IN TI
can name from my books almost every trip you
have made, with your cargo and armament on
each, and the size of the crew; but not until
your last trip did I think you a sufficiently rich
prize to risk a crew so far inland. You cost
me some valuable men, sir, by your stubborn
defense. We were scarcely prepared for such a
sturdy resistance. But, as the last three junks
your company have missed fell into my hands,
I have no reason to be dissatisfied. I can prove
to you what I say- those chuddahs in the
saloon were among their cargoes. Now, sir,
my offer to you is this: I wish you to act as my
agent in Hong-Kong. After paying your ran-
som, you will be penniless and with a debt
which it will require years for you to pay off.
Your company has perfect confidence in you,
and will be glad to get you back. You will
be offered a good position by the company.
Accept it, and be my agent at the same time.
To send an account of the destination of your

vessels and their cargoes to my Canton agent
is all I shall require of you. You will never
be suspected, and in two years I will guarantee
you an ample fortune, with which you may

return to the United States, a wealthy man;
or you can remain as my lieutenant, and have
one-quarter of all the profits of my business. I
shall give up the profession in a few years,
having amassed an ample fortune."
For an instant Frank was stunned by this of-
fer from the man who but the day before had
seemed to value him little higher than the mean-
est slave. He sat silent for a moment, with
flashing eyes, while the captain gazed search-
ingly at him. Then the pirate exclaimed:
"You accept, sir. Your silence means con-
sent "
He attempted to take Frank's hand. Spring-
ing to his feet, the young American drew himself
proudly back, exclaiming:
No, sir! No. I do not accept your offer.
What!-can you for a moment think that I
would become a spy, and turn traitor to my em-
ployers ? Accept their wages, and betray their
trust in my honor? No!-a thousand times



no i Rather would I give up my life than live
one day the vile wretch you seek to make
A look of furious passion swept over the pi-
rate's face at these words, and suddenly, with a
cry of rage, he drew a revolver and aimed it full
in Frank's face. Instinctively, the boy glanced
wildly about for some means of defense; then,
collecting himself, he folded his arms and, look-
ing his captor firmly in the eye, asked quietly:
"Well, sir, why don't you fire? You have
me at your mercy. Surely one life more or less
will make no difference to you among the many
you have taken."
The pirate, in spite of his anger, paused
when he saw Frank's cool, courageous bearing;
and, slowly lowering his weapon, he replied:
Austin, you are a brave fellow! Once more

I spare your life; but you shall yet do me the
service I ask. Retire to your room!"
He motioned to Frank to be gone.
"One moment, sir," replied Frank, turning
as he reached the doorway. "You say you
have a liking for me. If I have any influence
whatever over you, let me appeal to what little
good there may still be in you. Give up this
vile trade while yet you are a young man, and
capable, perhaps, of making some amends for
the wrong you have done."
Frank dropped the curtains, leaving the chief
standing moodily under the swinging lamp.
The young prisoner was now in no humor for
sleep, and it was far toward morning before
he ceased to revolve in his mind various plans
for escape and for sending a cruiser to break
up this nest of pirates.
continued )

ON a time thoughtless Folly stole Wisdom's
grave book,
And sat all day turning its pages;
| I Her cap and her bauble she gaily forsook,
SAnd behaved like the wisest of sages.
S' c, n hpobnn lie her 1 -minrmi to dres.s

And her manners have all grown so jolly,
That now when you meet them you never can guess
Which is Wisdom, and which one is Folly.

ldred Howells.






The Age of Man.

THE past ages had prepared the earth so that
men could live upon it.
Next came a time of smiling beauty. The
earth had been plowed with an icy plowshare;
the rocks had been ground into soil for fields
and gardens; floods had distributed it over the
earth, and all was ready for the growth of grain,
the food for man and his herds.
The land was rich with flower and fruit, over
which myriads of insects winged their busy
flight. Herds of cattle grazed in the green
meadows. The air had been cleared of thick
mists and foul vapors, and blue skies looked
lovingly down on the pleasant vales of the
earth, when God created his last and noblest
work- mankind.
The fact is always impressed upon us that
man is an animal. Well, to a certain extent
he is. He eats and drinks and sleeps to sus-
tain life, and so does an animal. But yet there
is a vast difference between man and brute. We
read of a wild man who was found in the woods
of an unfrequented part of France, in the early
part of this century. He had no language and
was without knowledge of human beings. Now,
there was no reason why this man, if he were
only an animal, should not have acted like one.
Yet he could appreciate the beauties of a foun-
tain and the glories of a moonlight night, and
would sit for hours admiring them. One could
not for an instant mistake the look of intelligent
appreciation on his face for the look of a pleased
ape. No! God has given to man powers and
attributes that crown him king of creation.
When was man first placed on earth ? No
one can answer that question. Hugh Miller
says that man's habit of burying his dead out of
sight makes it very easy to be mistaken on that
VOL. XVIII.-50. 6

point; for, because of burial, men's bones may
be found among the animals that have lain in
the earth for ages. There is one thing, how-
ever, that gives us an inkling of when he came.
Certain tools, that only man could have made,
have been found buried in caves, in peat beds,
and in the bottom of lakes. Often these are
covered by layers of rock; and, by calculating
how long it took to make the layers, a guess
can be made as to when the tools were put
there. Still, it is only a guess, and no one
pretends to regard the question as settled, be-
cause under some conditions the layers would
be made much faster than under others. But
the bones of certain animals, the mammoth and
other great creatures of that time, which have
long since died, have been found with these
tools. By calculating in what age these ani-
mals lived, and how long it takes a race
of animals to die out, a surer result can be
arrived at. In a cave in England, buried
under a limestone layer from one to fifteen
inches thick, tools have been found mingled
with the bones of elephants, tigers, rhino-
ceroses, and hyenas, which roamed over that
country thousands and thousands of years ago.
The peat bogs of what is now Denmark and
Scandinavia are filled with stone tools. Some
have been found in beds of gravel, underlying
peat which is certainly seven thousand years
old. This seems to show that man must have
dwelt on earth at least as many years ago.
In Switzerland, one winter when it was very
cold, the rivers were frozen and the lakes were
very shallow. The people who lived on the
border of one of the lakes determined to make
their gardens larger, by running their side walls
out into the lake and building a wall across to
shut out the lake. Then they were going to fill
in the space thus enclosed, with mud taken from
the lake bed. When they commenced to


dredge they came upon a quantity of spiles,
and ivory and stone and bronze tools. Investi-
gations proved that above this lake and, indeed,
above others in Switzerland had once risen
the homes of a people who lived in dwellings
built high above the water on spiles or logs
driven into the bed of the lake. One lake hav-
ing been drained, two settlements were found in
it, one at each end. The part of the eastern
settlement which used to stand above the water
had been destroyed by fire, and the charred
remains could still be seen. Nobody had ever
dreamed of the existence of such peoples.
They are now known as the Lake Dwellers."
From the tools that are found in these lake-
dwellings, in the caves, and in peat beds, we
suppose that there were three distinct periods
in the life of mankind: First came the Stone
Age, in which tools and weapons were made
of stone; second, the- Bronze Age, in which
they were of bronze; and third, the Iron Age,
in which iron implements appear.
We must remember that when the first men
lived they had no tools to work with, nor
weapons with which to battle against wild
beasts. When thrown upon their own re-
sources to defend themselves, they probably
threw stones. I think a small boy's first in-
stinct in fighting is to throw things. They
soon found that sharp stones were most effec-
tive, so they began to rub them together to
sharpen them. They next put pointed stones
in the ends of sticks and made spears. To
cut up the flesh of animals, they made stone
knives. They discovered the use of the bow
and arrow, for some of the sharpened stones
that are found must certainly have been arrow-
heads. They made hammers, and axes, and
chisels of stone. All these were chipped so
as to give them a cutting edge. They made
great stone mortars and pestles for grinding
corn. At first there was little ornament, but
toward the last of the Stone Age the knives
had carved bone handles, and even necklaces
are found of roughly carved amber beads.
They had no combs nor pins nor needles
nor thread in the earliest times. But they soon
found out that they could fasten things together
with the fibers of plants, or with thongs made
from the skins of animals. They made imple-

ments of horn which served for needles. They
early discovered the use of fire. Maybe men
first got fire from a volcano, or they may have
dropped or struck one piece of flint on another
and have seen the spark. It may be that it set
something on fire and they felt the effect the
An accidental fall of some meat into the fire
may have taught them how to cook. Their
first canoes were made of single trees, hollowed
by their stone hatchets aided by fire. Among
the remains of the Stone Age, pottery of ele-
gant design is sometimes found. It is probable
that they first used vessels of unbaked clay, but
they must soon have discovered how fire made
them hard.
When man reached the Bronze Age he
knew a little more. His stone tools had en-
abled him to discover metals, for stone hatchets
have been found in the copper-mines of Lake
Superior. He knew how to work metals. He
mixed his copper with tin and made bronze.
Then all sorts of things were of bronze and elab-
orately ornamented. He made bronze knives
with handles carved with human figures. Drink-
ing cups and vessels for water have been found
elegantly decorated. The Lake Dwellers of
Switzerland lived during the Bronze Age, for a
great many bronze implements have been found
near their settlements. The American Indians
had just reached this age when they were first
found by Europeans; and the Aztecs and Peru-
vians, with all their superior civilization, had
never gone beyond it.
The Iron Age was an age of higher civiliza-
tion, and merges into the age in which we live.
When men commenced to work in iron, every
experiment they tried added to its value; and as
their knowledge of the metal and its uses in-
creased, they advanced in civilization. Warlike
as they were, they made knives, axes, helmets,
and coats-of-mail. But at the same time they
made the tools for the field and the utensils for
home use the gentler implements that were to
triumph in the end. They put the true precious
metal, iron, daily to new uses, and probably
man has not yet found out all the ways in
which it can be used.
Now you may think of asking the question,
Is the world finished?" If you consider a




moment, I think you will know it is not. The
heated interior once in a while bursts out, as
we see in, the eruption of volcanoes, and de-
stroys whole cities. Sometimes the crust cracks
or moves, and an earthquake is felt. Glaciers
are still at work in high mountain valleys, and
icebergs still drift toward the south to build up
the bottom of the sea with the sand and dirt
they have carried from the north. The little
coral animals are yet busily building. The
sea waves are eating away the shore and de-
positing the sand elsewhere. The eastern coast
of England and the shores of the German
Ocean are wearing away, and the ravages of
the sea are plainly marked at different places
along our own Atlantic coast. Rivers are
carrying down immense quantities of earth,

and building new land at their mouths. The
Mississippi alone carries down two billions of
tons of earth every year, and has really built
the whole of the lower part of Louisiana. The
precipice over which the Niagara River flows
is wearing out at its edge so rapidly that the
falls are moving back at the rate of from one
foot to three feet a year. The forces that
moulded the surface of the earth are apparently
at work to-day.
But it seems as if man was really the end of
all creation, "the keystone of a grand arch."
Of all the splendid animals of the earth-the
armored fishes, the gigantic reptiles, the giant
mammals -man was the only one declared to
be endowed with an immortal soul, and made
in God's own image and likeness.

-- 2 --

I' 4



ed-I- -



ONE afternoon Lou Preston was in the mid-
dle of a story when we reached the swimming-
hole. He was always telling stories in the slow,
drawling tone natural to him, and as the boys
listened eagerly, you may be sure they were
interested. Boys are no flatterers in word or
deed, and if they pay attention it is certain that
your story is liked.
What he was telling that day was a little
above me, as we say, and while the older boys
delayed to hear the last of it, I got ready, wet
my head first, to prevent a rush of blood," ac-
cording to tradition, and then jumped in.
As I was unnoticed, I took the chance to
learn to dive backward. This I did successfully

several times, and when Lou's story was fin-
ished I had a new feat to execute for my own
glory and the delectation of my friends.
"Look here, boys!" I cried, "look here,
Charlie! look here! Aw! wait a minute, and
watch me." I got their attention at last, and
braced myself for a triumphant exhibition of my
great act.
I have described the swimming-hole as a
place at one side of the stream, worn deep by
the current. Above and below, and at the
further side, the water was shallow. The near
side of this hole was perpendicular, and the
hole was said to be twenty feet deep. This was
just the place to dive.
That day, as the stream was high, its rippling
surface overflowed the bank, the top of which

i 1 A


formed a ledge several inches wide, under
water, before the true rim of the hole was
In my successful attempts to dive backward,
I had stood on this ledge with my feet under
water and my heels at the rim of the hole, and
turned a back somersault. But now, having
drawn all eyes to me, in my haste to act be-
fore their notice was distracted, and in the
flurry of a public performance, I set my heels
at the margin of the overflowing water, my
feet being on dry land, and forgot the ledge
hidden by the water between me and the rim
of the hole.
Over I went, and down I came, head first,
on the ledge. I heard my neck-bones crunch
under the weight of my body, and I flopped
over sidewise, limp and for a moment help-
less, into the stream.
As I rose, and the water gushed out of my
ears, I heard from the bank a shout of wild
laughter by the spectators of my great diving
feat. The boys said afterward that had they
known my neck was broken they could not
have helped laughing. As they did not know
it was not broken, and had every reason to think
it was, I believed them.
I had enough sense left to strike out feebly
for the other shore. My neck was bent over
to one side, and I could not straighten it. I
swam till my hands touched the gravel bottom,
and, dragging myself into three inches of water,
lay like a piece of driftwood on the beach.
My strength began to return after a little;
and, as the other boys kept up their laughter,
my recovery was hastened by indignation.
After that, when I dived, it was in the good,
old-fashioned way, face foremost.


HE 's not the Principal of the school, and
he need n't act as if he were," said Will Per-
kins. He 's just hired to teach the Inter-
mediate. I 'm not afraid of him, and he can't
lord it over me, either."
"What can you do ? You could n't help his
punishing you yesterday."
"I can't do anything alone, I suppose. But
we can organize an insurrection."

Whew I had n't thought of that."
Frank's mouth and eyes were distended.
Will's suggestion brought with it so many
others that they could not get in through his
ears, which were always wide open. As usual,
the ideas came to Frank from outside.
The September term had just opened, and
the boys had come down to the swimming-
hole after the second day's session.
Mr. King taught in the Intermediate depart-
ment. This was his second term, and it had
begun badly. He was not mean, but was
quick-tempered, and the boys were naturally
prejudiced against any one set over them by
the principal.
The swimming-hole was so temptingly near,
that on the first day of school several of the boys
had gone swimming at recess, in spite of the
rule against it. Some one (I rather think it
was Tommy Toles, the trick was so like him)
had tied one of Will's shirt-sleeves, and then
dipped it in the water and pulled the knot
tight. Will was made late in consequence,
which directed suspicion to him; and his damp
hair and very clean hands were such strong
evidences of guilt that Mr. King gave him the
first whipping of the season, and made it
The boys were indignant, and when Will
struck the spark they took fire like a bundle of
fagots. French republicans were never more
quickly aroused to revolution.
The boys all came out of the water, hurried
into their clothes, and held a conclave on the
bank near the big tree. They were to fight
"for liberty or death," as Will solemnly de-
Let 's go out on a strike," said Ed Bristol.
"At a given signal (you know they always act
at a given signal), we '11 all take our books and
go home."
But this was too tame for the more reckless
conspirators, some of whom proposed such dire
vengeance as made the rest fairly shudder.
At last what was considered a middle course
was determined on, as laid down by Will Per-
One of us must do something to make Mr.
King call him out on the floor, and instead of
obeying he must lead the way and the rest must



follow, and we '11 soon see if he can do anything
with all of us against him."
"But who '11 be the leader? "
SI 'd just as lief; but that ought to be set-
tled by lot. We '11 draw cuts, and whoever
gets the marked one shall be the leader. Be-
fore we begin we must each take a solemn
vow on a jack-knife (I 've got one that will
do) to abide by the lot, and be the leader if it
falls to him, or to follow the one who is."
So Will administered the "oath of allegiance"
on the blade of his jackknife; tore a leaf from
" Mensuration," out of his Practical Arithmetic
-for what boy of thirteen expects ever to
study the last part of his arithmetic!-and
then cut the leaf into narrow slips and marked
a black cross on one of them. The lots were
drawn in silence, and the choice fell on Frank
Now, Frank was never a very brave boy, and
what courage he had, vanished the instant he
saw that black cross on the slip of paper he
drew from Will's hat. But he was in for it now,
and must bear up or be forever branded as a
coward," in the terms of the knife-blade vow.
Next day, when school opened, the boys
were all rather quieter than usual, and Frank
was so pale that his freckles showed round and
distinct all over his face.
At recess, Will, who had been watching the
chosen leader, said to him:
Frank, I don't think you can stand up to
the teacher when the time comes."
Oh, yes, I can." But Frank's lips were
dry, and his voice was faint.
I don't believe it. Suppose you let me be
the leader." Will was yet smarting in spirit
from his whipping, and felt valorous and re-
Well, of course, if you want to very much,
I '11 let you," answered Frank, trying not to
look relieved.
Will called the boys together and announced
that he would give the signal.
"When I say, Come on!' you follow me."
All right," said the boys.
Soon after recess, Will whispered openly to
Ed Bristol, behind him.
"Will Perkins, come forward!" said Mr.

I won't!"
Will felt like a fighting-cock, and his voice
was sharp and clear.
"What!" roared Mr. King, as he rose sud-
denly and stepped forward. His eyes shot fire.
He seemed to have grown two feet taller, and
towered like a giant approaching Tom Thumb.
But Will looked him boldly in the face.
I won't! he repeated; and, throwing off his
coat, he rolled up his shirt-sleeves and started to
meet the enemy with a yell: Come on, boys! "
Not a boy moved.
The sight of Mr. King's terrible face had
been too much for them. Will was in, but
none of the rest dared follow. He glanced
about at them. Every eye was glued to a
book. The horror of his situation seized him
as Mr. King, instead of the boys, "came on,"
ferule in hand.
Will turned and fled, followed by the angry
teacher. Round and round the room he ran,
over desks and benches, dodging down the
aisles, and throwing behind him to impede his
pursuer tables, chairs, books, whatever he could
get hold of in his mad haste. The door was
shut, and he knew it opened hard. There was
one window-sash down from the top. If he
could only gain time to reach the sill before
he was caught, Will thought he might vault
to freedom.
He heard a fall, looked back without stop-
ping, and saw that Mr. King had stumbled
over a stool he had just thrown between them.
The open window was before him. With the
agility of fear he sprang to the sill, fell rather
than jumped over the lowered sash, and landed
on his back in the gravel path outside. He
had escaped!
Next day, the boy's mother came with him
to school in the middle of the morning session.
As they walked up the aisle, Will looked about
him on his faithless allies, who could not meet
his reproachful gaze.
He and his mother sat on the front bench
while Mr. King held a long and low-voiced
conversation with them, watched with eager
curiosity by the other boys. A reconciliation
was effected at last. Will went to his seat, and
his mother went home.
The Revolution was over.


"'Z .. -r"2

M A E O E- "-o s, f i ~ ^f',-


JUST outside the little town of Fort de France,
stretching down from the quaint, narrow Rue
Victor Hugo to the purple-blue waters of the
bay, lies a spacious grass-grown square set round
with spreading tamarind-trees, and bathed all
day in the glorious sunshine of the tropics. This
square-the Savane, it is called--is the pride
of Fort de France, just as Fort de France itself
is the pride of Martinique, and as Martinique, in
turn, is the pride of those lovely islands which
are strung, like a zone of jewels, across the
Caribbean Sea.
St. Pierre, Martinique's other city, may be
richer, busier, bigger; but Fort de France,
whose former name was Fort Royal, is the
capital, the seat of government, and, above
all, is the site of the beautiful statue of Jose-
phine Bonaparte. For Josephine Tascher de La
Pagerie, wife of the great Napoleon and Em-
press of the French, was a Martinique girl, and
her memory is still cherished by the Creoles of
her native island. Across the deep but narrow
bay they still point out her home near the little
hamlet of Trois Islets; though, to tell the truth,
the ruins of the sugar-mill that are shown to the
visitor as the birthplace of Josephine have no
claim to that honor. The La Pagerie family,
little Josephine included, certainly lived there
for a time, but that was after the more pre-
tentious mansion in which the future Empress

first saw the light had been leveled to the
ground. The destruction of that house was
caused by one of the awful hurricanes which
sometimes come to scathe the beauty of the
This great tempest is still spoken of with
bated breath in Martinique, for tradition is very
vivid in those remote, sleepy islands. It oc-
curred one August night, when little Josephine
was three years old. There arose a terrible
wind accompanied by thunder, lightning, and
heavy rain. Louder and louder roared the
storm, bringing on its wings terror and destruc-
tion. Huge trees were uprooted, coffee and
sugar plantations were laid waste, and earth-
quakes shook the mills and houses from their
foundations. The ocean sent in a mighty wave,
wrecking the vessels lying in the harbors, and,
amid the howling of the storm and the shrieking
of the affrighted negroes, the dwelling of the La
Pagerie family was razed to the ground. Dur-
ing the four hours that the storm raged, several
hundred people lost their lives, but Josephine
and her relatives found refuge in one of her
father's sugar-mills which was strong enough to
escape the ravages of the storm. The stout old
walls are still standing, and near by, beneath
huge cocoa-palms and mango-trees, trickles a
tiny stream where Josephine, little Fifine," was
wont to paddle with her bare feet. A small pool
formed by a hollow in the rock is called to this


day the "Bath of the Empress," and the church
in which she was baptized still points its small
spire toward the beautiful Southern Cross. In-
side the building on one side of the chancel is a
mural tablet to Josephine's mother, while the
other side is adorned by a picture given by the
great Napoleon.
A bay divides Trois Islets from the town of
Fort de France, and we can fancy the little
Creole maiden crossing the deep water on her
way to the convent school in the larger town.
Here she learned the accomplishments that she
afterward brought to grace the palaces of the
Luxembourg and Tuileries. From the sugar-
mill of a West Indian plantation to the throne
of France is a strange transition, yet Josephine
seems to have left in both her widely differing
spheres affectionate memories that time has not
wholly quenched.
In Martinique the simple folk speak of her with
reverence and tenderness to this day. In her
childhood she was called by her father's slaves
the pretty Creole," and on her birthdays it is
said that M. de La Pagerie allowed each of his
negroes a day of rest, and provided an enter-
tainment for them while "Fifine" distributed
alms to the sick and poor.
On going to make her first visit to France,
at the age of fifteen, the beautiful eyes of Jose-
phine were dimmed with tears as Trois Islets
faded from her view. Even after she became
the wife of M. de Beauharnais her thoughts
were ever turning back to her well-beloved
When troubles assailed her, she sought again
her island home, bringing her little daughter
Hortense. While in Martinique she resumed
her Creole dress; and when brighter days arrived
and she returned to France, the pleasantest sur-
prise she could arrange for M. de Beauharnais
was to present to him the small Hortense clad
in full Martinique costume.
In after years when, as wife of the great
Napoleon, she had riches and power at com-
mand, she filled her beautiful gardens at Mal-
maison with choice exotics from her native isle.
One of these, a most rare and beautiful plant,
the Amaryllis gigantea, the only one in France,
was visited and admired by throngs of people.
And Fort de France cherishes the statue of

the beautiful Empress. There it stands in the
center of the broad Savane, girt by nine tower-
ing palm-trees whose leafy tops bow with a
stately motion above her beautiful head and
rustle mournfully as the breeze sighs through
them. It seems as if they lamented the sad
fate of the fair woman whose pensive marble
features seem to gaze pensively across the sunny
vista of the Savane and the sparkling waters of
the ocean-toward the distant shores of France.
Such was the aspect of the place a year ago;
such is still the aspect of the Savane, which has
guarded safely the nine palm-trees and the
statue they encircle; but the town is changed.
Fort de France, that had withstood the ravages
of hurricanes and cyclones, and had risen
proudly from the terrible earthquake of 1838,
was destined only a year ago to meet with a
calamity that recalls the great Chicago fire. It
happened on the morning of the 22d of June,
1890, within a day of one hundred and twenty-
seven years after Josephine's birth.
In all hot countries the people rise early in
order to transact their business in the cool of
the day, and if the old rhyme be true, then
the Martinique folk should be the healthiest,
wealthiest, and wisest of our race. They go to
sleep with the chickens and are up before any
well-regulated lark at the north would think
of beginning his morning carols.
I have frequently opened my lazy eyes long
before sunrise to find the hotel bonne wishing
me "Boa jour/ and to see her arranging my
coffee and rolls as if it were the most natural
thing in the world to prepare breakfast before
Now, this particular 22d of June fell on a
Sunday, and that Sunday morning an old
woman named Adeline Marguerite Hercule,
who kept a stand in the market-place, arose
even earlier than usual.
The market-places in the French West Indies
are open on Sundays as well as on week days,
and Adeline was obliged to get up betimes to
attend to her religious duties before beginning
her fruit and manioc selling at her stall.
She occupied a single room of a wooden
house in a thickly settled part of the town.
Soon after five in the morning, she started for
the cathedral, first telling her little nephew


' I rmI



Omer not to leave the room. She returned in
about an hour and found the disobedient child
in the street below playing with two other small
boys. She scolded the little fellow, slapped him
once or twice, and then made the coffee for him
and for her son, whose name was Popo.
Popo soon went out and Adeline set about
preparing the regular breakfast, which is usually
eaten at about eleven. This breakfast was to be
of salt fish and bananas. A strange mixture,-

and then Master Omer had a long day before
This little monkey (if you ever saw a small
Martinique gamin you would think the name
excusable) did not enjoy solitude. He called
in his little playfellows to play with him at
Colin-maillard, the French version of our game
"blindman's-buff." The small Omer while
blindfolded, ran against the brazier, poised on
its wooden stand. Over went box, brazier,

~ '-,,. ."- ''-': --^ '

--: ---_:-, ~' ":,i .. -%--- - --
.--5 /-.A- ..,,


but the natives cook bananas or plantains in all
sorts of ways in these queer islands. Their
range or cooking apparatus consists of a small
furnace or charcoal brazier. With a curious
fan made for the purpose Adeline fanned the
coals till they began to glow; then on a wooden
box she placed the stove, and again on top of
this she set the kettle containing the fish and
fruit. Leaving the hotchpotch to cook itself,
she departed to attend to business at the market,

and kettle, and the glowing charcoal fell into
a wooden tray containing some thin cotton
The urchins were frightened and fled with-
out telling of the mischief they had done.
"Behold how great a matter a little fire
kindleth!" A high wind was blowing and
wafted flames and embers over the narrow
streets of the town. Most of the buildings were
of wood, small and very old, and they burned



like so much tinder. The firemen were called
out, but water was scarce, and with their primi-
tive appliances they were helpless in the face of
such a catastrophe. The hospital was soon in
a blaze, and then flames burst forth in the
beautiful new.market. The "fire fiend" ruled $
that day, and stayed not his work of destruc-
tion till more than half of the pretty little city
lay in ashes.
When night descended on the desolated town
five thousand people were without shelter or (
home. Little remained save a few houses at the
water's edge, the ancient fort with France's tri-
color floating above its bastions, and the still
older Savane, set with a line of scorched and
blasted tamarind-trees. Under the branches the
homeless citizens encamped that night, and drew .
comfort from the thought that, though many had
lost their all, yet few lives had been sacrificed,
and the glorious statue of Josephine, the pride
of Martinique, still reared its stately head un-
harmed amid its grove of gigantic palms.
Such was the beginning and end of the great
fire of Fort de France, the severest visitation
that has ever befallen the peaceful and unevent-
ful history of the Caribbees.
Fort de France has already begun to rise from A .
its ashes, not with the quick rebound of a
Yankee city, where the cheerful ring of the
mason's trowel may be heard among the still
smoldering ruins, but with a placid, gradual
resurrection befitting the life of the lazy trop-
ics. Fair Josephine's statue may be said toI' & f -'.
have borne a charmed life, for the great fire of i .. ,i .
1890 is by no means the only danger it has .
survived. I, "-
Twenty years ago, when the uprising of the ,
Communalists had been sternly suppressed in'
Paris, and many of the ringleaders had paid the ,
penalty of their misdeeds, with backs againstI "'J
a dead wall and eyes confronting a file of i r- "' i
grim soldiery, a few members of the defeated ,
Commune escaped and fled wherever chance -I'
and opportunity led them. Some reached Mar-
tinique, and were not slow to air their doctrines NEAR VIEW OF THE STATUE.
among the simple islanders, government they had left behind them. They
To these refugees the statue of Josephine thought it would be a fine thing to deface this
seemed a lasting reproach- an ever present work of art as they had effaced so many in
evidence of the royalty they loathed and of the Paris; and dynamite was actually procured and
From a photograph by Dr. William F. Hutchinson.


disposed to the best advantage round the base
of the statue. But the proceedings of these old-
country roughs had been noticed by some of the


women of Fort de France- broad-shouldered
charcoal girls, strong and active porteuses, who
had no idea of allowing indignity to be offered
to La Jolie Criole." When the destroyers
assembled to wreak their spite on the marble,
they found themselves seized by a score of
stalwart women. The ruffians were secured,
tied hand and foot, and, since they were caught
in the act, no time was wasted on a trial. They
were simply cast, bound as they were, into the
bay. The waves over which Josephine's boat
used to speed so lightly a hundred years ago
now roll above the bodies of the vandals who
would have insulted her memory. Communism
found no congenial soil on Martinique, and the
popular verdict was, Serve them right." It all
happened twenty years ago, and you will hear
nothing of the tragedy to-day unless you inquire
closely into the history of Josephine's statue.

But, apart from its history and its associations,
the statue of Josephine is well worth attention
as a work of art. The fair Empress stands be-
neath her sentinel palms a marble vision of
loveliness. Her sweet face is turned toward
her birthplace, her arms are bare, and her left
hand rests on a medallion portrait of the great
The inscription states that this statue was
raised by the inhabitants of Martinique to the
memory of the Empress Josephine, born in the
Not far from the beautiful monument there
stood, a year ago, the building where Josephine
went to school, but that, like the good nuns who


taught her, has become but a memory, and only
the statue, the nine waving palms, and the
short-waisted gowns of a few gaily dressed
women are left to remind us of the lovely
Creole who passed from the seclusion of a little
island to share the throne of the conqueror of



To the Boston Museum, a long time ago,
A little boy, impish as Puck,
Went one day with his nurse, who resembled
a hen
In charge of a wayward young duck.

For our bright little hero was just at the age
When boys think it manly and fine "
To tease and to worry a nurse, without end:
His age was, I think, about nine.

The Museum was reached, and our naughty
young Dan
Was determined to have his own way,
And at last he peeped into a small private
In spite of all Biddy could say.

There a big-headed, ugly, and cross-looking
Who appeared to be just of Dan's age,
Cried out, "You young rascal, get out of this
room! "
And stamped on the floor in a rage.

Now Dan was a fighter. At school he was
As a boy whom no other could beat,
So now he said grimly, Don't try to scare
By stamping your great ugly feet."

"Be off! cried the other, "or I '11 turn you
Said Dan, I 'd just like you to try !"
Then he took a step forward, and doubled his
And measured the boy with his eye.

Two minutes had passed. They were not
very long,
But they still were enough for the strife.

Our hero had had, in that small space of time,
The greatest surprise in his life:

He'd been beaten, and pounded, and pum-
meled, and thrashed,
And sent with a kick through the door,
Which was instantly slammed, while he fell on
his back,
And lay in a heap on the floor.

Of course he was hurt, but he scarcely could
His bumps or his bruises at all,
Nor hear Biddy's scolding. His utter surprise
Was so great that all else appeared small.

That a boy of his age should have mastered
him thus,
Whom older boys feared to offend,
So amazed and perplexed him, he scarcely
felt pain,
But he understood all in the end.

For, arrived at his home, Biddy made her
" Indade and indade, ma'am, it's so;
He entered a room, ma'am, and fought with
the dwarf,-
The dwarf they exhibit, you know."

So the mystery was solved: he had fought a
large dwarf,
A dwarf with the strength of a man,
Which, especially when it was used in a rage,
Of course was too much for poor Dan.

He was stiff for a week, and as sore as could
Perhaps you will say, Serve him right! "
But he heartily laughed when he told me the
Some thirty years after the fight.



Flutter by,
Over the clover,
Under the sky.
Sail and falter and fail,
And cling to the fragrant spray;
Shift and shirk,
No weather for work
Falls on a summer day.

Tumble free
Into the bloom of the tulip-tree;
Cease your bustle and boom,
Swing on a stamen and sing,
Or clutch a flagon frail and fine,
And drowsily drink the wine,
And rest your rumbling wing.

Glow like a spark
That will set the fields afire;
Tenderly whistle
On top of a thistle
A "turilee" to your mate up higher
In a dusky locust-tree.
There! There!
Away goes care,
And a dream comes over me.

A boy tired out with play,
On a summer holiday,
In the grass so cool and deep
Let me lie and sleep,
While the butterfly goes fluttering over,
Between blue sky and purple clover,
And the bumblebee bumbles
And whirls and tumbles,
Where the meadowlark's nest
And her golden breast
Have clover
All over
For cover.

-~ -~ I,,

I ''I,,


1,' 11,1'


,Co Ll


I MIND how the roses smelled, and the
lilies-mother's garden was full of flowers--
and I mind how proud I was of the new house
of barked logs; 't was the only one in Gwynedd,
and had its staircase outside, very stately. I
mind all this, Gwen, and more, when thee gives
me that sprig of lemon-verbena, my little grand-
daughter. Thee must have heard the story of
Letty Penn's visit? Thee has n't ? Then sit
thee down, my love. I like to tell it.
For all that I was Quaker-bred, the Evans
blood still had its sway in me. In Wales, thee
knows, the Evanses were not of the Friends.
And I had soft curls, and pretty dimples, and
dancing came readily to my young feet. But
in the old days at Gwynedd no, no! I could
not dance.
The Indians were very friendly, and across
the Wissahickon dwelt a settlement of them.
A young squaw that came sometimes to our
house made friends with me. I remember her
yet. She was a lithe, tall girl, graceful,- and
she -but thee must wait. I went often to her

camp and learned besides weaving-but thee
must wait.
William Penn had but just finished his house
at Pennsbury. I mind the talk of its splendor.
'T was of fine English fashion, and had more-
over a great hall for Indian receptions, and
there the Lord Proprietor of our Province kept
his state with all simplicity and dignity. You
may well guess the flutter I was in, one October
afternoon, when Brother Abner's long shanks
came flying up the garden, and he fell over
Aunt Jane's apple-bowl as he tumbled into the
'T is three by the dial," gasped he, "and at
five comes the Lord Proprietor, William Penn,
and his daughter Letty, to pass the night with
us. Father sends thee word to make ready."
I mind me I was stinting on my sampler,
and such a wry stitch as I put into the casso-
wary's leg alas, it cost me ten stitches to get
it out !
But therewith began a preparation. My Aunt
Jane was of the sterner sort, but my mother was


'i ,


w .


all peace. 'T was Aunt Jane who kept my heels
flying hither and yon, and truly I dreamed so
long of what Letty Penn would be like, over
the honey jar down in the cellar, that I earned
the box o' the ear that Aunt Jane gave me.
Though she spoke out about it afterward in
the meeting-dear soul!-as an infirmity of
temper. We built a great fire in the best bed-

[&^, i''!,,

When I heard the hoof-beats coming down
the road, I grew suddenly shy and climbed into
the great blue chest and nestled down into the
thick comforters to rouse enough courage, by
judicious hiding, so that I might greet Letty
Penn in seemly fashion. When Abner led away
the horses I slipped down and peered through
the great window. William Penn stood shaking

-: '' ~



room, and I aired the linen for mother, all
sweet with lemon-verbena and lavender spears.
"Thee shall take Letty to sleep in thy bed,"
said mother. And straightway, as I stood before
the fire with a fat goose-feather pillow in my
mouth, tugging on the cover, the naughty
thought crept into my mind which made all
the trouble. Perchance Aunt Jane's cuff roused
my Welsh blood. So she said, dear soul.

hands with my elders, and I mind yet his sweet,
strong smile. He had a courtly manner, and his
daughter lacked it not. She sat before the fire
with riding-cloak thrown back, and a silken
bonnet of plain fashion lying on her lap. Her
stout little boots were thrust out toward the fire
as if her feet were cold, and she looked up
into Aunt Jane's face with a pretty, winsome
smile that set my heart a-beating. I loved her


then and was ready to tell her all my secrets
before I had even spoken to her.
So I entered the room and was presented to
William Penn, who kissed me kindly on the
forehead, and then I was led to Letty. While
Aunt Jane lingered near us we said but pretty
formalities. Presently the supper called her
away, and I, pulling a low settle closer by the
fire, said softly, unwrapping her cloak the while,
"Thee 's cold. Come sit on my settle in this
warm corner. Thee 's had a long ride and I
know how a pillion tires one. Let me rub thy

I 'II' I 'I

Don't thee tell any one, but I truly am,"
she said. And we squeezed each other's hands
when Aunt Jane set a cold roast on the table.
I mind that supper, and how pretty our
manners were, and how the boys sat in a long,
solemn row and ate great quantities, though
their knee-buckles knocked together in shy
affright if ever they were addressed.
William Penn talked sagely to my father
of Indian treaties, and all the while, with my
naughty poll full of its mischievous plan, I
helped my brother Abner bountifully to cheese
and cakes, the better to coax him later to lay a
fire in my bed-chamber. And so he did.
When it came time for the children's candles,
I felt my heart grow jubilant. At last I could
talk to Letty, free from Aunt Jane's watchful

i, I mind me how quaintly sweet my room
1was, with white dimity hangings, and a little,
'i- '. dumpling feather-bed. I pulled two crickets
up to the crackling fire and we cuddled to-
Si'''' 'gether upon them. I think my father likes
i'i' thine," said Letty; and thy mother is sweet."
I. li! Thy father is a great man," I said. Does
^ 'thee think us simple here? "
*' Not I, truly," said Letty frankly.
'- "Was thee ever," I said bending close to
S' her-" was thee ever sorry thee was born a
Friend ? "
T.I ;" Never. Was thee ?"
'" Yea! I returned vehemently. "' I wish I
had been born an Indian Oh, 't is fine "
^" Thee should not wish to be a heathen
Savage. Thee should be glad thee 's of the
'Lord's people," remonstrated Letty.
S" Nay, but Indian women can dance and
roam the woods all day. I hate ugly samplers
/ / i and stiff caps and Aunt Jane's 'Nay, nay,' if
Sever I trip it about the garden. Father's lamb-
kins frisk, and the Lord made them, and the
/ little leaves dance."
"I ENTERED THE ROOM AND WAS PRESENTED TO With that, I made a dive under my white
WILLIAM PENN." foot-valance and came out tugging a battered
hands--so. Wait a bit. Does thee like cats? bandbox. "Thee must never tell," I said,
Thee can have my moppet to warm thee." tossing my cap on the bed and pulling a tall,
"Thee's kind," said Letty Penn, hugging hideous Indian head-dress over my curls,
my cat. "Is thy name Gwen ?" but I am going to show thee an Indian
"Yea," I replied. "Gwen Evans. Is n't dance. They say I am never to dance, but
thee very hungry?" And she laughed. thee shall see! "



Off came my calfskin boots and on went a
pair of moccasins. I wound some beads about
my neck, I twisted a scarf about my waist, all
the while watching Letty alertly to see if she
admired me. A merry laughter shone in her
eyes. Thereupon I sprang to my feet, and
straightway began such a twisting, whirling,
swaying, and leaping, with sidewise bounds,
with clutchings of the air, and mad "pot-
cheesing" of my sober gown into giddy bal-
loonings, as might well have startled any one.
My curls flew; I made the motions of fling-
ing tomahawks,-all learned with care in the
woods of that same Indian woman,- and Letty
looked on delighted.
Does thee like it? I gasped, falling at
length upon my cricket, exhausted.
It is gayer than grandma's minuet," she
said admiringly. "Thee might teach me a
I tossed her the beads and tiara, and at it we
went; aye, so absorbed were we in the glee of it,
that we heard no rattle of doors or casements,
and were leaping giddily when Aunt Jane en-
tered the room.
Thee does n't know what a sin it was to Aunt
Jane. Letty had been reared more leniently
and guessed but little of the horror of my aunt
at such an atrocity as Indian dancing.
Gwen Evans she said, has the Evil One
possessed thee ? Get thee to bed."
And I saw my cherished gear put on the fire,
there to shrivel up in the flames, and I mind
me how the moccasins curled and writhed and
twisted on the glowing logs, while Letty and I

watched them with the frightened tears stream-
ing down our faces. I mind how Aunt Jane lit
a tall candle and read a long chapter to us, we
squeezing each other's hands under the cover-
lids and sobbing softly. I liked not her good-
night kiss, but lay sobbing after she went, with
Letty whispering such consolation as she could,
till the dear mother came in. My dear mother !
'T was she who hugged us both, and kissed us
both, and laughed and cried over us, but we
slept comforted.
And I mind me next morning after breakfast
how we stood at William Penn's knee and con-
fessed our wicked dance, and how benignly he
forgave us; though I, glancing cornerwise at
him, even in my humiliation, thought I saw a
smile curving about his mouth. They left us in
the afternoon. Letty and I clung to each other
on the horseblock. My eyes this time were dim
with hearty tears.
"Thee will always keep my sweet-grass ring? "
I murmured.
"Always," she said. "And thee will keep
my carnelian heart ?"
"Verily I will," I said, all my life." And so
I watched her gray cloak vanish up the road
between the gold and scarlet maple-trees.
This is the carnelian heart, in this little case,
Gwen. And the roses and lilies of mother's
garden? Oh, it was years later that I culled
them, a great nosegay of them, to take to Letty
Penn's wedding. But I think of them always
when I think of her, and seem to see the old
home again, love, when thee brings me this
sprig of verbena.





- ',"'. .



HAPPY spirit, free from care,
Lightly drifting here and there,
Through the forest murmurously,
Waking music in the tree;

Toying with the dewy blooms
Where the brown bee drones and booms,
Stealing odors from the red
Roses in the garden bed;

Rifling purple flower-bells,
Loitering in rosy shells,


Kissing into pearls the sea
'Neath the white moon, daintily;

Bearing o'er the ripples sweet
Of the poppied, olive wheat,
Butterflies down hazy dales-
Golden ships with golden sails!

And when all is calm and still
In the meadow, on the hill,
Then we know you are asleep
In some flower cool and deep.



ROSE, I will guess your secret-
Your blushes shall speak-
Did you leave some velvety petals
On a wee, warm cheek?

Did you float on a morning zephyr,
Blowing soft from the south,
To breathe your balmy fragrance
On a dewy sweet mouth?

Does the dent of a tiny dimple
Mark a mute caress,
Where you tenderly touched the baby,
Her lips to press ?

Ah! Rose, with your beauty and fragrance,
You must yet have a care,
For our darling is fairer and sweeter,
Were you never so fair

- ',"'. .



HAPPY spirit, free from care,
Lightly drifting here and there,
Through the forest murmurously,
Waking music in the tree;

Toying with the dewy blooms
Where the brown bee drones and booms,
Stealing odors from the red
Roses in the garden bed;

Rifling purple flower-bells,
Loitering in rosy shells,


Kissing into pearls the sea
'Neath the white moon, daintily;

Bearing o'er the ripples sweet
Of the poppied, olive wheat,
Butterflies down hazy dales-
Golden ships with golden sails!

And when all is calm and still
In the meadow, on the hill,
Then we know you are asleep
In some flower cool and deep.



ROSE, I will guess your secret-
Your blushes shall speak-
Did you leave some velvety petals
On a wee, warm cheek?

Did you float on a morning zephyr,
Blowing soft from the south,
To breathe your balmy fragrance
On a dewy sweet mouth?

Does the dent of a tiny dimple
Mark a mute caress,
Where you tenderly touched the baby,
Her lips to press ?

Ah! Rose, with your beauty and fragrance,
You must yet have a care,
For our darling is fairer and sweeter,
Were you never so fair



T is said that William Hogarth, the famous
English artist, once made a wager that he
could draw with three lines a soldier go-
ing into a tavern followed by his pet dog.
He won, whether fairly or not the reader
must decide, by the clever drawing that
makes here the initial I.
Such penciled jokes, while not very rare,
are always amusing. Two of the most
solemn and dignified characters in history
serve as the subjects of the following designs,
which an artist made one day for me without
claiming them as original. The first is, of
course, the "Father of His Country."
A very little practice
will make one a skilled
historical painter, so far
as this sketch can bring
about that result. The
second is Dante, the
mE FTHER OF HI COUNTRY. laurel-crowned author of
the "Inferno," and
even this striking like-
ness need present no
insuperable difficulty
to the serious Stu-
dent of Art.
I showed these two
masterpieces to an-
other artist, who, in
return for the light
they threw upon the
practice of his pro- oDANTE, SSE.
fession, willingly proceeded to exhibit to me
some that he had picked up during a diligent
study of the old and young masters of Europe.
"Frederick the Great was no doubt a re-
markable man," said he, "but a few lines will
present his most striking features very forcibly,
as has been shown by a distinguished German

Then he drew one continuous line beginning
at the little hook on the shoulder, and a few
short ones, and there was the great Prussian as
perfectly depicted as
Carlyle could have
done it. One might
almost read his char-
acter from this speak-
( ing likeness.
"The same great
artist could also draw
Napoleon the First,
and has depicted him
at the two most mo-
mentous epochs of
FREDERICK THE GREAT. his career," my friend
continued, taking another piece of paper. First
we see him after Austerlitz; while the second pic-
ture shows very clearly that his sentiments were
quite different after he had met the Iron Duke
at Waterloo."
Then descend-
ing from the
heights of history a
to pastoral life, he I-
asked me whether r^
three pigs. Not
pigs he meant, I NAPOLEO 1.
said frankly that I had n't. Whereupon he
drew three oblong rectangles upon the paper.
"This," said he, adding a few forcible strokes
to the first, "is the happy and aspiring pig."
Then passing to the
n next, he made a
few similar lines and
said, While this, as
you see, is the un-
happy and despond-
SHAPPY AND ASPIRING PIG." ing pig." In old


times, he told me,
that was all the

pigs there were. But some
modern genius saw that the THE SELIN" '-.
field was still open to another
pig, and added "the pig who is
wrapped up in himself." These
three recalled another, and seizing
a third scrap of paper he drew in AN INDIFFERENT PG.
an unbroken line a pig whose outlines suggested
that he came from the land of Dikes and Ditches.

There is an-
other historical
portrait," added
the artist, "which
is less simple than
those that I have
shown, but is per-
haps well adapted
to students who NAPOLEON ni. BY A VEGETARIAN.
to students who ,oo ver,.
have advanced further in their profession."
Then as a final triumph he drew a pumpkin,
added a turnip and three carrots, and de-
dared the result a fair likeness of the Em-
peror, Napoleon III., "The Nephew of his


SBy Oliver Herford.

There was once a giraffe who

said, "What

Do I want with my tea strong or

hot ?

For my throat's such a length

The tea loses its strength

And is cold ere it reaches the




(For Young Musicians.)

llz s{ was such a strange little boy, that until he reached the of one

___= his friends all feared that he never would out man. His head

was full of .- | and among them was one very iT one, viz: a determination not

to learn his =. He would run away to catch in the brook, and pre-

tend to be when they called him to his lessons. His father said, is

either E or ; I have little hope of him, as he shows no :S of intelligence."

One day Farmer { called his son and said: "I want a f of corn from the mill.

Here is a -r- to the miller; when he learns the 11 of it he will give you the corn with-

out any __ as I cannot trust you with the money. Put the corn in this ,

" it with this and '- it tight."

set off, but when he had gone about an J of the way he saw old ,-a a super-

annuated _- horse, grazing in a field near by. The boy climbed the : with

OI and began to old with apples; then mounting on his back

he began to beat him with a which he carried in his hand. The horse started on

a =-.E across the field, and the boy was several times within an -=

of falling off, when suddenly pitched him over his head into a nest.

A ~- stung him in the E_-_-- which began to =- rapidly. His cries

rose in a wailing until they reached their loudest ff Farmer who was

plowing in a neighboring field, calling -" to his oxen, and trying to make them take


an accel. gait in place of their usual rail. movement, now came to the j f and said

to the boy: I thought you were _- l until I heard you scream. What are you

doing in this r ?"

Father me go to the mill," he replied, but I wanted to -

away, cross the = lofty mountains, and my fortune!"

"You must be off your ," replied the farmer. "Go home and let your mother put

you to "

The boy's cries having passed through all stages of =- and p., now reached their = fine.

"Yes, I will," replied "I am i out, but I and some-

what at the prospect of my punishment. Perhaps father will f" me up and me,

but the result of this adventure will last the -- of my life; it will never from

my memory, and I am sure I shall not wish to it."

"That's right, sonny!" answered the farmer. ,but don't "

Louise Livingston Bradford.



"Why, hello, messmate "
The old tar said
To this dear little chap so bright,
" Is your craft a regular man-o'-war ?
Did she ever win a fight?
Or is she one of the navy new,
Of steel and iron, through and
An armored cruiser white ?

"If our country called you
Would you go,
As we did in sixty-one ?-
Thousands on land, thousands on sea,
Wherever brave deeds were done.
In those days ships were made of wood,
But we found them strong, and stanch,
and good,
And many a fight they won.



"Up there stands
The 'Brave Old Salt,'
Farragut! Sailors know
How he led his fleet to victory
Wherever boats could go.
Since war began
No braver man
Can any nation show !

"And so, little lad,
If in time to come
You should wear the sailor's blue,
Though Farragut 's gone and many more
Who proved to our flag so true,
When you 're a man
Do the best you can,
You may be a Farragut, too! "



HURRAH for July and its glorious Fourth We
keep it, we Jacks-in-the-pulpit and boys and girls,
because we are so glad to be in a free country.
And now to business. What have we before us
to-day ? Ah yes those two matters started at our
April meeting,* namely : WHAT IS THIS? (mean-
ing thatvery queer picture I then showed you), and
Fanny S. B.'s question, HAVE HORSES, DOGS,
Well, answers to these questions have come to this
pulpit to my perfect satisfaction. Some right, the
dear Little Schoolma'am says, some wrong; some
good, some not so, but one and all showing honest
interest and industry. So we three, the Deacon,
the Little Schoolma'am, and your own JACK, thank
the writers most heartily.
Bless me Either ST. NICHOLAS makes young
folks delightfully clever or else only delightfully
clever young folk take ST. NICHOLAS. One or the
other is the case, of that I am sure.
Now you shall hear who among you all, my dear
firework-ers, dictionary-hunters, and finger-inkers,
sent the correct name or description of that queer
object in the picture. It is a MAMMILLATED SEA
URCHIN, or the variety familiarly and affectionately
called Heterocentrotus Mammillatus by those frisky
The following sent correct answers : Lyndon Despard,
Charlie Kellogg, Gerry G. Buswell, Alfred Bowie, "Jack
Tar," Louis O. Tucker, Kittie Schimdt, Eleanor M. F.,
Nellie D. Bevies, M. L. Robinson, Phyllis E. Parker,
Joseph N. White, Mabel Gleason, Ezra L. Pound, Gertie
Kittie Schimdt tells us that children in the South Sea
Islands use the spines for slate-pencils. Charlie Kellogg
says, They have strong teeth and can eat crabs, and can
climb up glass." Frances M. agrees thatit is a sea-urchin,
but on the authority of a wise cousin says there are sea-
anemones in the picture. Lyndon Despard bristles with

facts : It is smaller than the ordinary sea-urchin, with
spines five or six inches long, each blue up to the white
ring and then red." The classification of this patriotic
creature, he says, is: Order, Echinodermata; Family, Ech-
inoidea; Genus (Cidaris), Mlammillatus. Horace P. A.,
ten years old, gives the name CidaritisIm perialis. Jack
Tar" declares it bears the simple name fleterocentrotus
tlammillatuis, and comes from the Pacific Ocean; he
adds that a specimen is in the Academy of Natural Sci-
ences, of Philadelphia, where he lives. Gerry G. Bus-
well is one of five brothers who, during vacations at
Monterey, California, "find them clinging to the rocks
and have to pull hard to get them off. They attach them-
selves by suckers. They are dark purple. The spines
become pointed when they are taken out of the water.
The mouth is in the center of the shell in the picture."
His letter is bright and original.
Of those who held opinions differing from these, Nora
M. suggests the name Actinia Crassicornus, a sea-anem-
one; Gertrude A. W., a Scotch lassie, says it is a "sea-
anemone seen through a microscope"; H. W. M. de-
clares it a very fine cluster of Brazilian agates "; Marion
McA. and Edith M. P. think it a sea-anemone, while
Dick and Jack, two chums living opposite one another,
" think and are sure that it is a chrysanthemum," and Elva
F. calls it "a flower made up of base-ball bats." Bessie
Durham identifies it as a passion-flower," and Charlie
G., Jr., at the end of a good letter about Do animals
think?" writes: "By the way, as to that mysterious
picture on page 483, I think it is a penwiper or some-
thing very much like it."
So you see the answers made it animal, mineral,
and vegetable, but only those who took the sea-
urchin standpoint were correct. JACK thanks you
all for your clever letters, which came from every-
where-Texas, Scotland, California, Staten Island,
Minnesota, Canada, Maryland- north, south, east,
and west.
So many bright and interesting letters have been
received in answer to the question asked by Fannie
S. B. in the April number that your JACK must
print as many as he can crowd in.
DEAR JACK: I am thirteen. It 's my opinion that
horses, cows, dogs, and cats; etc., all have a way of mak-
ing each other understand, and this is why: When we
were home, I remember one day my sister Isabel and
I were eating our lunch out in the yard at school, and
we had such fun watching the big red ants carrying off
some crumbs of bread we would throw near their mound.
First one ant tried to carry a crumb, and finding he could
not manage it, he left t and went away. In a little while
he and one other ant came and tried it together; then
they stopped and got a third to come and help them, and
the three carried the crumb to the mouth of their hill and
all went tumbling in together, and if ants have a way of
understanding each other, I cannot help thinking the
domestic animals must have too. MAUD Q- .
DEAR MR. JACK: I think cows, cats, dogs, etc., have
a language of their own. I have often seen them stand-
ing with their heads close together, and looking as if
they were talking on some interesting subject.
Your faithful reader, M. BRICE HILL.

DEAR JACK: I answer decidedly, animals have lan-
The reason I have for thinking so is this : We have
a dog (not very beautiful) named Buff. A while ago

* See St. Nicholas for April, 1891, page 483.



1891.] JACK-IN-TI

some neighbors across the street had a pointer-dog
named Don, who was a great friend of Buff. One day
Don was in the neighbor's yard, locked in. The fence
was made of upright slats. Buff ran over to see him,
but as Buff could not get in and Don could not get out,
they could only wag their tails at each other. Suddenly
Buff went round to a high gate beyond the house, and
quite a way from the low gate where they were. The high
gate was partly open, but not wide enough for Don to
come through. Don disappeared also.
In a minute Don's nose appeared at the high gate, but
no more of him. The gate did not open easily, for it
stuck on the board walk. Buff shoved the gate and Don
pulled with his nose. The gate yielded and opened.
Don came out and off the friends trotted.
Don't you think when at the low gate they must have
conveyed the plan for opening the high gate ? Anyway,
I think so. MAY H. F- .

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: I think that animals
have languages of their own, and can understand each
other that way, because we once had a cat and five kittens.
The kittens were rather wild. Mama was going by the
place where they stayed. As she passed, all the kittens
ran under the house, but the old cat went under with
them and made a funny noise and all the kittens came
out again and let mama pet them. I think the old cat
told them not to be afraid to come out.
Yours truly, ELEANOR C. A- .

DEAR JACK: In my opinion animals do have a language
of their own in the sense that they certainly have a
method of communication. I also believe that animals
and birds reason. Thus in the case of my little canary,
Teddy: He will first, when the water is cold in his bath,
dip his beak in, as if wishing to know if it would be
conducive to his health to take a bath that morning. Then
his head will follow, and last (if the water suits him)
his body. Sometimes he will hover about his bath-tub
for about five minutes before deciding. Is not that rea-
soning? Also as to birds and animals having a method
of communication, will not the chirp of a bird bring its
mate to its side ? Also, will not that same chirp show the
state of the bird's feelings, as in anger, grief, or happi-
ness ? I could state many other instances, such as the
bleat of the sheep bringing its kid to it, the low of the
cow its calf, but for making my letter too long.
Yours most truly, CHARLIE G- Jr.

DEAR JACK : Please give this to your chicks. I
cut it from the Bangor Whig. Yours truly,
B. C.

A good cat-story, illustrating the sagacity of the felines,
is told by an eye-witness. A cat saw a large rat run out
from under a stable and seek shelter in a wood-pile.
Tommy followed his ratship and tried to reach him, but
could not do so. Finding that his efforts were in vain,
Tommy scratched his head and hit upon an idea. Leav-
ing the woodpile, he went off a short distance, informed
another cat of what was up, and the two went back to the
woodpile. Tommy No. I stationed No. 2 at the place
where the rat had entered the wood-pile, while he climbed
upon the wood and began scratching. This frightened
the rat and out he ran into the chops of Tommy No. 2,
who had been expecting such an occurrence.

DEAR JACK: I think that animals do have languages.
If there is poison around and one rat finds it out, all the
rest know it almost instantly.


Then when a hen clucks to her chickens they must
know that she says Come," or something like it.
Your friend, NELLY D. B- .

DEAR JACK: I am a little girl of nine years, and have
just taken ST. NICHOLAS this year. In the April
number you asked if your readers thought that all animals
have their own languages. I think they have a sort of
one; anyway, they can make themselves understood, espe-
cially horses, cats, and dogs. We have anolddog offifteen,
and a kitten, and we always knowby the way the dog barks
or the kitten mews if they are hungry or angry with each
other. As for other animals I think you can see by the
way they look at you what they want.
I hope you will print this letter, as it is the first I have
written. Your little Scottish reader, GERTRUDE A. W.

DEAR JACK: The buffaloes of North America have
sentries when they are feeding, and at a snort, or prance,
or a motion, the whole herd will make off.
The elephants when marching through the forests are
led by an old one and obey him, stopping when he stops,
and going when he goes. The springbok of South Africa
is another animal of that kind. Hunters of Africa tell
us that if one of the sentries discovered them, five seconds
after being discovered the whole herd was nowhere to
be seen. The wildebeest, bison, and zebra are other
animals-besides the wild horses, who roam over the
plains that have a leader at their head who conveys his
orders to the herd in some mysterious manner.
Whether this is a language between animals or whether
it is not, it cannot be doubted that they have a way of
communicating with each other. P. H--

Annie H., Henry W. T., Elva F.,A. L., A., Edith M.
P., Agnes W., and Alice E. also sent very interesting
DEACON GREEN is puzzled. He has been asked
"What is our. National Hymn?" Of course he
has an opinion, but no man's opinion, however
wise, can decide such a question.
He would like to hear from you young folks.
Is our National Hymn "The Star-Spangled Ban-
ner," "My Country, 't is of Thee," Hail Colum-
bia," "Columbia the Gem of the Ocean," or
"Yankee Doodle"?
With the World's Fair approaching, the Deacon
says we ought to have this momentous question
Talk this matter over with your parents, my
children. Inquire of every one -in short, so stir
up the question that there will be little rest for
grown folk, or little folk either, until it is settled.
Who knows but that on the Fourth of July,
1892, you children all over this great country-
east, west, north, and south, may be singing as
with one voice the one authorized National Hymn
that henceforth shall be recognized as ours forever!

X. Y. Z. requests your JACK to say that the two
long words which she broke up for you last


CONTRIBUTORS are respectfully informed that, between the Ist of June and the 15th of September, manuscripts can-
not conveniently be examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the
magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.

WILL Pansy M. M., who wrote a letter printed in the
Letter-Box of the April ST. NICHOLAS, please send her
full name and present address to the Editor.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for several
years, and for some time have wanted to write and tell
you how very much I enjoy reading you; but having a
dread of the waste-paper basket, I have never gained
courage to venture until now.
Two years ago I spent a winter in Florida. I enjoyed
it exceedingly, and perhaps one of my most enjoyable
excursions was my trip down the Oclawaha River, which
I will briefly describe to you.
The Oclawaha River is a very crooked river, constantly
twisting and turning. The water is not very clear,
although in some portions, especially near Silver Springs,
you can see the beautiful plants on the bottom of the
river, through lovely pale-green or blue water. Tall
trees grow along each bank, and sometimes nearly meet,
so that they form arches over the narrow river; all the
trees are heavily laden with Spanish-moss. We left Sil-
ver Springs (our starting point) in the early morning,
and remained on the deck of the little steamer until din-
ner was announced. Oh, never will I forget that dinner !
In the first place, it was served in a stuffy little cabin,
and, in the second place, scarcely anything was fit to eat.
You may well think we did not linger at the table.
We passed the afternoon pleasantly on deck, several
of the gentlemen trying their skill in the fishing line,
during the greater part of the voyage. We frequently
saw alligators and large turtles, and one of the young
men who was fishing discovered a moccasin snake swim-
ming up the river; he caught it on his fish-hook, and
it was immediately killed by one of the sailors. Evening
came all too soon, and, after a tea in the little cabin, we
again gathered on deck, this time to enjoy the singing of
our colored crew. When we met the up boat, quite
a time was made, ringing bells, tooting horns, etc., and
each crew trying to outdo the other in loud singing.
The next morning, when we woke, we were at our
journey's end, and all agreed in thinking it had been a
very delightful trip.
Wishing you a long life of prosperity,
I remain your devoted admirer, E. M. J-.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have just moved here from
Montana. Last summer we spent in California, and
thought perhaps you would like to hear something about
our trip. We went to Pescadero and amused ourselves
by picking and sorting the beautiful pebbles most of the
time. After that we went to Monte Rey and visited the
Hotel Del Monte, which is one of the largest in the
world. We went through the old adobe churches with
their tiled roofs, which are the old Indian Missions built
by the Spaniards at Monte Rey. At Santa Cruz we en-
joyed watching the surf-bathers. We went through the
beautiful Yosemite Valley and often rode our little don-

keys in preference to riding in the jolty stages. We
came here over the Rio Grande way, where there is such
magnificent mountain scenery.
Your constant admirer, VIVIAN T. C--.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Long live you! I thought I
would write to you, as I have not before. I am eleven,
and have two brothers, one eighteen and one fifteen.
I have a parrot named "Archie "; he talks a good deal,
and he is pretty tame. I have no other pets; we had
a dog, but he got poisoned in Newport, Rhode Island,
where I was born.
I have a large seal collection. I have one put on by
Daniel Webster, and a great many other ones. And a
large stamp collection, which is pretty valuable. I have
the first Transcript ever issued, which is worth a good
deal. I have a good many old things besides these.
I go to school every day, and like to very much. I
study reading, spelling, and arithmetic, Latin, French, and
geography, grammar. We take drawing and carving, and
Slojd or Swedish system of carpentering. It is very inter-
esting. I am afraid my letter is getting too long, so I
will stop. So good-by.
From your constant reader, A. T. B- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I wanted to say something
about Rembrandt Peale, whose letter is in the April ST.
NICHOLAS. He is my great-grandfather, and we have
his portrait and his second wife's hanging in our parlor,
painted by himself, life size. We have other pictures
painted by him also. All his daughters were artists
except my grandmother.
I have been much interested in your stories, but I like
" Lady Jane best.
Your affectionate reader, B. P- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We stay in the Episcopal
Orphans' Home. A little boy gave you to us for a
Christmas present, and we like you very much; we
don't know what we would do without you. We do
all of our own work and go to school in the morning
and in the afternoon we sew; we make our own
clothes. We have a pet cat, two birds, and a great many
chickens. Each one has a week in doing different parts
of the housework; two girls cook every week, one works
in the dining-room and two in the pantry. We have a
little girl four years old, and she is the sweetest little
thing we ever had here. She is the pet of the house;
everybody loves her dearly.
We are, dear ST. NICHOLAS, your devoted readers,

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As I have never seen a
letter from quaint old Nuremberg, I would like very


much to see one in print. Papa, mamma, and I have
been spending the winter in Europe. We have been
here for about a month, but leave for Italy in a few days.
I would like to tell you about something which hap-
pened while we were in Vienna. We saw the little
Crown-Princess Elizabeth start for a drive with her
mamma, the Princess Stephanie. They drove to one of
their castles near the city; and while they were there a
little peasant boy saw the little Princess ; he recognized
her and took off his cap, then ran to her, knelt and kissed
her hand. They must have made a very pretty picture,
as each of the children is only about six years old.
Most cordially yours, ENA.

I 'I like to give a party some lovely summer's day,
When the air is warm and fragrant with the scent of
new-mown hay,
When song-birds warbling blithely and brooklets run-
ning free
And busy little insects all join in minstrelsy.

And who would be invited ? First, that thoughtful little
With the heart so sweet and loving-I mean Lord
Juanita and her brother; kind little Sarah Crewe,
And Dorothy and Donald, and a host of others too.

Yes, all the story people-"Little Women," "Little
Men ";
And all Miss Alcott's people the children of her pen.
And when it came to parting I 'm sure we 'd all agree
We had ne'er before attended such a pleasant company !

DEAR ST. NICK: In all the three years that I have
taken your charming paper I have seen but one letter
written from this city. It seems so strange to me, because
I know so many girls and boys that subscribe to you.
You publish the prettiest stories! "The Gates on
Grandfather's Farm" is lovely. I am so fond of the
country. Almost every summer we go to a little resort
not far from here called Lakeside. It is not at all like a
farm, but we have a great deal of country fun there. At
Lakeside families of ten accustom themselves to the use
of four or five rooms. It is a cluster of about thirty cot-
tages around a small hotel. All the guests have their
meals at the hotel. There is riding, driving, boating,
and every kind of outdoor fun all day, and dancing in
the ball-room every evening. Last Fourth of July,
mamma and some other ladies got up all sorts of races,
and the gentlemen furnished very handsome fireworks
in the evening. I won the prizes for four of the girls'
races! Was I not lucky? One summer papa gave me
a beautiful Cotswold lamb ; I called her Miss Nibble
Snow. She used to follow me everywhere, but her
greatest accomplishment was playing "tag." She used
to chase me all around the trees, and dodge with much
more skill than I have. Finally she was so large that we
had to sell her. I have never really enjoyed lamb-chops
since! My small brother has a taste for gardening, but
his efforts are not crowned with success. Yesterday he
came to me with a troubled expression that I knew meant
mischief, and said, I 've been fixing your plant, but it
don't look right." He had killed it. But when he said,
"Please scuse me," I had to forgive him.
From one of your admiring friends,

This picture of Mr. Crab's Fourth of July was sent to
the Letter-Box by the late Frank Lloyd Drake, who
made the sketches at the age of thirteen.

--~ ,I- -~i-5 -)
i~i~ ~ t' a

-c-K _______

No. Mr. Crab finding a lighted cat-tail and a firecracker on the
beach, thinks he will celebrate the glorious Fourth."
No. 2. He celebrates the Fourth, and loses his claw.
No. 3. He is obliged to call in Dr. Lobster.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write to you
and tell you a little about the queer ways of the people
living in Brazil. You must not think I have been there,
for I have not; but my brother has, and he has told us a
great many funny things about the way the people live,
and of the odd customs. He says the first thing you notice
as you enter a city is that the houses have no chimneys;
that is because it is so hot that they never need a fire.
Another thing he told us, which I thought was very
funny, is that instead of the milkmen going around in
wagons, as they do here, they drive the cow to the door
and milk her. I think that is a good way; you can't have
any water in the milk then.
I liked the story of Lady Jane very much, and in
one of my books I have a picture of Mother Margaret.
I hope this letter is not too long to print, as I have not
told mama or papa anything about it.
I remain your loving reader, P. A- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live a mile east of Lamed.
There is a little piece of the Santa F6 trail left, which
has got filled up with dirt, but you can see where it
was. There are lots of buffalo-wallows and trails
around. The Denver, Memphis, and Atlantic R. R.
is a quarter of a mile away, where it crosses the Ar-
kansas River. The river rose before they got it built,
and swept away some of the piles. The river is a mile
from our house, and it rose within a quarter of a mile
from our house. It went down that night, and next
morning it went down about to its banks. It 's very


sandy on the other side of the river. The trains got
stuck in the snow a little piece west of here a week or
two ago. There have been lots of wild geese flying over,
and at night you could hear them down at the river.
There are lots of people hunting them.
Your respective reader, WILL B- .



BERYL.- I AM the oldest, so I '11 tell
The first; now Mama, listen well:
Our first is what we call a man
Who leads the purest life he can;
Who feeds the hungry, clothes the poor,
And helps the needy at his door.

KITTY.- Our next is but a little thing
That carelessness will often bring
To pretty dishes, dolls and toys ;
You tremble when you hear a noise,
For this small thing will mar them all
From just one little knock or fall.

ANNA.-Our third I say when I am glad
Or when I 'm very, very sad;
And when I stub my toe and fall
I say it then the most of all;
But when the rockets burst and shine
Then it tells we think they 're fine.

TOM.- Our fourth I 'm thankful that I 'm not,
For this good reason, that we've got
A plenty in my sisters four;
I 'm grateful that there are no more.
So I am glad that I 'm a boy,
And like the things that boys enjoy.

EIIZABETH.-Our whole we all know very well;
We love to hear what he can tell
Of fun and frolic and the store
Of fairy tales and Brownie lore.
He's everywhere the children's friend
And all to him their greetings send.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you about
the Indian boys of the school at Hampton, Va. One
Indian boy I like very much. The building where they
live is named the Wigwam, and my aunt takes care of the
boys. They are very kind to me. I had an afternoon
tea, and invited some of the Indian boys and Mr. and Mrs.
F., and Peggy" ( Peggy 's a dog). I had some choco-
late and cakes, and a very nice time. All came whom I
invited. One night there was a party at Winona (the
Indian girl's home), and I went over to it. We had a
very good time playing blindman's-buff and other games.
Our camp here in the Adirondacks is on a pretty pond
near Big Tupper Lake. We have two guides, John and
Fayette, and three dogs, "Foo," Drive," and "Jack."
We have three tents, one for papa, another for Aunt Anne
and me, and one for the guides and a store-house. Mar-
garet," my doll, has a little tent put up, and one night she
had a cunning little camp-fire, about as large as my hand.
In front of the big tent there is a fire made to cook things,
and in the evening we have a fire in front of our tents,
and a little stove inside. I think I shall never forget
about camp. The head of the first deer papa shot is
to be mounted for my little room at home.

I fish all day, some days, but do not catch a thing.
One night we went trolling for trout. When we got back
it was dark, and we saw Fayette pulling up fish by the
wharf. I fished there and caught a good many shiners,
and papa caught beautiful trout, big pink ones and some
little ones that were always cooked for me. Papa has
given me a fly, a grizzly king," on which he has caught
thirty trout, and I wear it in my cap.
I love you, ST. NICHOLAS, very much indeed. Good-
by. Your little friend, JEANNETTE J- .


BY HAMILTON. (A Young Contributor.)

AN Aquarium is a very interesting thing. It consists
of a water-tight glass case, open at the top, half full of
water, with the bottom just covered with sand and a few
big rocks in the middle; it is nicer to have a flag-lily or
any other aquatic plant and a bank of sand at the side.
The most familiar animals for the Aquarium are gold-
fish, turtles, frogs, lizards, alligators, tadpoles, etc. I
advise my readers not to have any frogs, for they are
always jumping out and they eat most of the other ani-
mals. I have known a frog in my Aquarium to eat in
one day a small turtle, two goldfish, and one pet lizard;
after this greedy meal he died of indigestion.
The best thing to give your animals to eat is a thin
wafer called rice-cake, broken up into small pieces and
thrown into the Aquarium; this can be obtained at the
druggists or animal fanciers.
The water should be changed once a day to keep your
animals healthy. The best way to change it is by hav-
ing a hole in the bottom of the Aquarium with a piece of
wire netting over it, so that the small animals cannot
escape. When you have taken out enough water the
hole may be stopped up by means of a cork.
It is very interesting to get some frogs' eggs and see
them hatch ; first they will burst and a miniature fish will
come out of each one of them; then in the course of
several weeks they will grow larger; then two fore feet
will gradually grow; then two hind feet will slowly
grow, and the tadpole will look something like a lizard;
after a while the tail will wither off, the nose will become
pointed, and the tadpole will become a small frog,
which in due time will grow larger, and croak, hop, and
" Jump Jim Crow "

WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: Ida M., Minerva
C., L. H., Roy W. J., Gertrude A., Isabella C., Carita
A., Alfred F. E., C. E. J., Arthur H. T., D. A. D.,
Margaret C., Jesse R., Stella S. Y., Charles G. H.,
Wilder W., Helen F., George H. S., Jean H., Fritz A.
G. N., Marian B., Ermine B., Marie De F., Alton F.,
Harry W. W., Willie A. C., Laura, Louisa, Beatrix, and
Dora, Louise W., Jean K. and Clarence E., Harry G.
N., Elsie D., Elsie T., Janet C., Charles F. E. Jr., Carrie
E. L., Helen Curtis S., C. L. E., Francis B. H., Jessie
B. H., Katrina T. I., Sally F. D., Harker R., I. T. S.,
Nettie B., Margaret W. B., Evelyn C. S. G., Mary M.
L., Frank E., Anne B. R., Andrew B., Gertrude and
Helen B., A. A. S., Harry S. S., Herbert P., H. O. B.,
Olga R. G., P. D. V., Algenia T. G., Ethel C., Percy
W., Margaret M., Eleanor B., Margaret F. J., Ernestine
W., Ernest S., E. Lois S., Ethel J., Alice E., Susan H.,
Eliza A. P., Hetty M. A., Daisy M., Mary, Agnes, Julia,
and Ella, Edith M. B., Horace P. A., Three Hungarian
Girls, Florence.C., Aimee M., Helen E. D., J. W. B.,
Saml. Breckinridge L.

WORD-SQUARES. I. I. Macaw. 2. Agave. 3. Cabal. 4. Avant. A GREEK CROSS. I. I. Tabor. 2. Adore. 3. Bowie. 4.
5. Welts. II. i. Pewit. 2. Erato. 3. Waver. 4. Items. 5. Oriel. 5. Reels. II. i. Nadir. 2. Apode. 3. Doree. 4. Ideal.
Torsk. 5. Reels. III. i. Reels. 2. Eclat. 3. Elope. 4. Lapse. 5.
AN ESCUTCHEON. Centrals, Robert Burns. Cross-words: i. Steep. IV. r. Steep. 2. Tiara. 3. Eager. 4. Erect. 5. Party.
Rembrandt. 2. Condorcet. 3. Auber. 4. Ebers. 5. Byron. 6. V. I. Steep. 2. Terra. 3. Ergot. 4. Erode. 5. Paten.
Patti. 7. Cable. 8. Gluck. 9. Verne. io. Ino. S. PI.
WORD-BUILDING. I, in, Ain, gain, grain, hearing, reaving, ravel- From the distant tropic strand,
ing, traveling, starveling, BWhere the billows, bright and bland,
g, traveltg, starvelinTg, Go creeping, curling round the palms with sweet faint undertune,
HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, Belgium. Cross-words: i. Warbler. 2. From its fields of purpling flowers
Dream. 3. Fly. 4. G. 5. Tin. 6. Blunt. 7. Primary. Still wet with fragrant showers,
NOVEL DIAMONDS. I. Caprice. II. Eaten. The happy southwind, lingering, sweeps the royal blooms of June.
ST. NICHOLAS NUMERICAL ENIGMIA, Contributors. HALF-SQUARE. I. Boreal. 2. Oread. 3. Rent. 4. Eat. 5.
WORD SYNCOPATIONS. Centrals, Magna Charta. i. S-imp-ly. Ad. 6. L.
2. Re-war-d. 3. B-egg-ar. 4. Sl-ant-ed. 5. De-bat-ed. 6. L-act- A STAR. I. M. 2. At. 3. Madison. 4. Tittle. 5. Stair. 6.
ate. 7. La-she-d. 8. S-tar-ing. 9. C-orb-an. xo. Rot-ate-s. Olives. 7. Nereids. 8. Sd (sad). 9. S.
xI. Mor-dan-t.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the c5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April i5th, from Helen C. Mc.Cleary-Jo and
I-" Infantry "-" The McG.'s "-Aunt Martha and Mabel -"The Peterkins "- Paul Reese -" May and'79 "- Mamma and Jamie-
"Violette "- Clara B. Orwig Alice M. Blanke & Co. -" The Wise Five "-E. M. G. -" Uncle Mung"- Mary Thomson- Lehte-
Grace and Nan-" Ed and Papa "- Nellie L. Howes- Edith Sewall- Carrie Thacher- Stephen O. Hawkins- Bertha W. Groesbeck
--Charlie Dignan -Josephine Sherwood- Ida C. Thallon Arthur G. Lewis--Hubert L. Bingay--Blanche and Fred- Charles
Beaufort- Marion G. Rice-" Suse "-" King Anso IV."-Nellie and Reggie--"Juliet, Miranda, Ophelia, and Portia"-"Deerfoot."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April i5th, from My Lady," 2-Edith P. T., --Maude
E. Palmer, x t-A. H. R. and M. G. R., i K. C. S., I Horace Holden, Jr., 3 H. E. H. M., 6- R. W. Deacon, i Carrie B.
A., I--H. Hughes, i--Elva E. F., i--J. Clods, i--Elaine S., 3--Holcombe Ward, 5--A. V. and S. B. Farquhar, 2 -"Snow-
flake," I--R. L. McCormack, I S. Barbour, I Fanny and Mama, 2- C. S. P., 5 -"Four Little D's," I- E. W. Wallace, i-
Emeline A., 2--" The Trio," I-" Papa and I," i -Arthur B. Lawrence, 8-Edith M. Derby, 4-" Uncle Ned and I," 7- Cicely, i
-"Deux Amies," I--"Polly Wog and Tadpole,' 5- Elsie S., 2- Lillie M. Anthony, 2-"The Nutshell," 9- Geo. Griffith, I -
"The Pirate," 3 -" Hard Work," 2 -" D. I. Agonal," 2-" Grandma, Mama and Harry," 5- Thomas W., i -No name, 5-Agnes
and Elinor, 9- Estelle and Clarendon Ions and Mama, 7- Effie K. Talboys, 8- B. P. King, -"Le Marquis," C. Curtis, -
P. M. Conrad, I Agnes Laird and Frieda Mueller, 7 -" Snooks," 7 -Laura M. Zinser, 3 James and Sarah Swaine, 5 Nemo," i
- W. Kenney, 2--R. and J. King, I--Robert Lee Randolph, 7- Hetty J. Barrow, 8 -" Sunlight and Shadow," so-C. and M.
Keellogg, 2-Nellie Archer, 9-L. H. Holland, 4-Robert A. Stewart, 7- Lisa Bloodgood, o-" Miramonte Quartette," n- M. L.
Carmichael, I Raymond Baldwin, 5 Matie I. Dayfoot, 4- Frances Adams, 4-" The Rivals," i Wilford W. Linsly, 6- Mama,
Grace and Annie, 5 Geoffrey Parsons, 4 -" The Four C.'s," 2 Bertram and Mama, z ,- E. N. G., 6- Mama, Sister, and Marion, 4
-" The Scott Family," o-- Ida and Alice, ii --" Last of the Mohicans," 7 Mary Keim Stauffer, as "Dictionary and Co.," 5-
Clara and Emma, 7 M. P. Trimble, 5- No name, San Francisco, so.


I. IN cranberry. 2. A beverage. 3. To venerate.
4. The first forge through which iron passes when it is
melted from the ore. 5. To expunge. 6. Before. 7. In
cranberry. JULIA J. LEWIS.



-o \ .



FROM II to o1, one of the great leaders of the French
Revolution; from 2 to II, an English poet born in 1822;
from 2 to 12, a name borne by several popes; from 4 to
12, an eminent English navigator ; from 4 to 13, a great
musical composer, born in 1684; from 13 to 6, the author

of" Lucile"; from 6 to 14, a famous English admiral;
from 8 to 14, a distinguished American traveler, writer,
and poet, born in 1825; from 8 to 15, a famous painter;
from 15 to Io, an illustrious philosopher and mathema-
tician, born in the 17th century.
From I to Io, an name famous in history.


ALL of the words described contain the same number
of letters. When rightly guessed and placed one below
the other, the central letters will spell historic ground.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A bird. 2. Undeveloped. 3. Mounds.
4. To compare. 5. Habit. 6. A song of joy. 7. Often seen
in a fireplace. 8. Unruffled. 9. A tree which bears red
berries. o1. Uneven. DICTIONARY."


IF one should be so cruel as to 1-2-3-4-5 a little child,
he should make 2-5-4-5-6 to pacify him with an 3-4-5-
6-7 or some other pretty fall flower, to atone for his
4-5-6-7-8 behavior; otherwise, he ought to be thrown
into the water with the 5-6-7-8-9 and other aquatic
When placed one below the other, in the order here
given, the five words to be supplied will form a word-
square. M. E. D.



- -I-- ....


I AM composed of seventy-eight letters, and am a
sentence written by Rufus Choate.
My 76-1o is a verb. My 70-43-21-56 is an exploit.
My 44-5-33-14 is delicate. My 7-26-67-60 is one of the
United States. My 66-30-48-54 is a cleansing substance.
My 13-37-32-73 is often made of pottery. My 20-39-
46-23-52 is to be loquacious. My 3-17-8-78-36-63 is
to jolt. My 1-69-18-5o-1i-9 is a prodigy. My 42-4-
25-59-53-75-28-34-71 is one of a South African tribe.
My 15-61-65-35-41-57-22 is to stammer. My 31-6-
77-68-72 is a character mentioned in Genesis. My 55-
51-27-12-29 is an ancient Scandinavian bard. My 62-
74-49-47-38-24 is having a keen appetite; My 58-16-
19-45-2-64-40 was a king of Egypt. M. aM. F.

IN toiling, not in work;
In heathen, not in Turk;
In headache, not in pain;
In fracture, not in sprain;
In stopping, not in walk;
In utter, not in talk ;
In granite, not in slag;
In standard, not in flag;
In chasten, not in whip;
In schooner, not in ship;
In Francis, not in Will;
In Joseph, not in Bill;
In Judith, not in Beth;
In Lawrence, not in Seth;
In yellow, not in brown :
The whole brings noise to every town.


ACROSS: I. Household articles. 2. A short sleep.
3. Floating on the surface of water. 4. Afalsifier. 5. A
little ball. 6. Rarely.
DOWNWARD: I. In mottle. 2. In like manner. 3. An
inclosed place. 4. Part of a book. 5. To impede or bar.
6. Gazes at. 7. To scheme. 8. To inform. 9. A color.
o1. A preposition. II. In mottle. JULIA J. LEWIS.

I. What country does everybody eat on Thanksgiving ?
2. What city do you often find in a bottle? 3. What
island do ladies sometimes wear ? 4. What city is burned
nightly ? 5. What city of New Jersey is eaten for des-
sert ? 6. What city do we find on a toilet table ? 7. What
city is worn on the head in summer? 8. What cape
names a fish? 9. What city names a kind of board ?
10. What river names areptile? II. What cape names a
costly fur? 12. What.river names along coat? 13. What
city in the northern part of the United States names a
statesman ? 14. What city in Asia might crow ? 15. What
two cities in the eastern hemisphere are used as trim-

mings ? 16. What mountains are named after a giant?
17. What Australian river is a term of endearment ?
18. What coast is a troublesome insect?

HET nus shang clam ta remsmus sipeo;
Het thare elis bedhat ni grimmeshin nond,
Ta ster rofm lal ehr cleerhuf inose,
Whit thear-grisstn liltneys ni nute.
Het mite, woh fluteibau dan read,
Wehn alyre strufi giben ot shlub,
Dan het lufl agafele fo eht yare
Wasys o're hemt whit a grilshenet shuh!

I. A VOWEL. 2. An exclamation of joy or triumph.
3. The daughter of Cadmus. 4. Inflexible. 5. The
angular curve made by the intersection of two arches.
6. A triangle. 7. Raising an uproar. 8. Proportioning.
9. The act of removing from one place to another.
10. The removal of inhabitants from one country to
another, for the purpose of residence. ii. The act of

EACH of the words described contain sixletters. When
rightly guessed, and placed one below another, the initial
letters will spell the name of a sea.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A fish of the tunny kind. 2. A
motet. 3. A grayish-white metal. 4. Anarrow passage.
5. An Egyptian-deity. POLLY.


12 2
II 3
10 4
S9 .. 5
8 6

I. CROSS-WORDS: I. Fabled monsters of terrific
aspect. 2. Fire-worshipers. 3. To beat soundly. 4. One
who incites. 5. A general statement reached by com-
parison of different amounts. 6. To deaden. 7. The
son of Semele.
From I to 12, a very famous naturalist born in 1769.
II. CROSS-WORDS: I. The god of the waters. 2. A
fierce animal found in Africa. 3. The apparent junction
of earth and sky. 4. A Greek measure of length. 5-
Two-threaded. 6. The surname of a President of the
United States. 7. One of the Muses.
From I to 12, a very famous inventor.



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