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ENGRAVED BY T. JOHNSON.
FROM A PAINTING BY J. W. ALEXANDER.
PORTRAIT OF A CHILD.
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THE BOYS' WAR.
By HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN.
THERE had been war between the East-siders
and the West-siders as long as any one could re-
member. If an East-side boy crossed the river,
he knew that he was in hostile territory; and
he took his chances of a thrashing from the na-
tives. A West-side boy fared no better if he
ventured to reconnoiter unattended beyond the
boundaries of his own tribe. It was a matter
of honor with each faction to allow no invasions
on the part of the enemy, and to take prompt
revenge if a foray was made.
It was a fortunate thing that the river which
separated the two hostile tribes ran with a swift
and strong current so that it was not always an
easy thing to pilot a boat through its whirling
pools and eddies. Very narrowly did Viggo
Ho6k, the West-side general, and Halvor Rei-
tan, the East-side chieftain, escape drowning
when they and their tribesmen fought the fa-
mous Battle of the Rafts," April ii, 1884. In
fact, it was only the magnanimous behavior of
Viggo and the heroism of his unappreciated
friend, the Muskrat," which saved half a dozen
boys from being hurled over the cataract into
the seething caldron below. You might have
supposed that one such experience would have
sufficed, and that the boys, having, once had
so serious a warning of peril, would have set-
tled their differences and concluded henceforth
to live peaceably. But, I am sorry to say, that
idea did not occur to any of them. The Musk-
rat, whose real name was Marcus Henning (the
son of a country huckster), was promoted, for
bravery on the field, to a lieutenancy, and he
was assigned to duty as adjutant to General
Viggo, whose fine looks and superb demeanor
never ceased to excite the wonder and admira-
tion of the modest Muskrat. A six months'
truce was negotiated, during which both parties
pledged themselves to keep the peace. But
otherwise the situation remained unchanged.
It was on the very day of the expiration of
the truce (October 12, 1884) that Viggo, who
was a valiant trapper, found all the snares
robbed; and, instead of thrush and ptarmigan,
a dead mouse was suspended by the neck in
every one of them. That was a wanton insult
which cried aloud for vengeance. He knew,
of course, perfectly, that it was Halvor Reitan
who had instigated his minions to give notice in
this contemptible way that there was an end
now to the piping times of peace. It was just
Copyright, 1895, by THE CENTURY CO. All rights reserved.
THE BOYS' WAR.
like him to choose such a mean and underhand among the soldiers at what they styled the stu-
method, instead of coming boldly forward with pidity of such a proceeding, and there was even
an open declaration of war. Halvor, Viggo some talk of mutiny. Everybody knew that
affirmed, had not the feelings of a gentleman; the Reitan tribe was stronger and bigger than
being peasant-born, he could scarcely be ex- theirs, and that it would be the height of folly to
pected to have them. But Viggo
hb!in,el f. i, 'os,- fthr s er -j sc a
c I,flcI in j tho reg l:,r
and a -tickler
military honor, was
proudly conscious "AGAIN AND AGAIN THEY WERE
of his family distinc- (SEE PAGE 357.)
tion, and took pains both to feel and to act as be-
hooved a gentleman. At the council of war which
assembled in the Colonel's woodshed on the day
after the outrage, Anton Mikkelson, the sheriff's
son, proposed that they should cross the river
in the night, and, in return for the insult, let his
great tomcat, Mons," into Halvor Reitan's pig-
eon-cote. But this suggestion Viggo most dis-
dainfully repelled, and so withering was his
scorn that poor Anton felt uncomfortable, and
did not dare open his mouth again during the
session of the council. The plan which was
finally agreed upon was to blow a bugle-blast
from the hill overlooking the river, as a chal-
lenge to the enemy, and a warning to him to
be on his guard. Then, if the ice lasted till
morning, the whole West-side army was to cross
over into the hostile territory and fight a fair
battle in the open field.
There was, indeed, considerable grumbling
w:1ik o'.ei iii Li. .i '. l> \Il ht :,r di
take the thir.-shiiig hici -ih rely
DRIVEN BACK." was in store for them. In war,
they said, all things were fair, and
all stratagems were proper. What they loved was
to go prowling about in the underbrush, like
red Indians, with a delicious sense of danger,
and, with a wild howl, pounce upon the first
unwary East-sider that fell into their clutches.
If the General had to blow his bugle, he would
simply spoil the fun. It was idiotic to give the
enemy notice that you meant to attack him.
The General, therefore, had to agree that they
should go at night to the place where Halvor
had his snares, and, merely as a just retaliation,
pull them down and destroy them.
Truth to tell, the chivalrous Viggo did not
like this plan; but there was a certain plausibil-
ity in the proposition to return tit for tat; and,
after a long argument, he gave his consent.
But, as ill luck would have it, in the afternoon
the first snow of the year fell; and there was a
moral certainty that, whatever they did, their
tracks would betray them. Secondly, the bugle-
THE BOYS' WAR.
blast had put the Reitan tribe on their guard,
and, when they attempted to cross the river,
Halvor, with'a score of followers, met them
from the other side and began throwing snow-
balls. Again and again the valiant West-siders
advanced under Viggo's command to the mid-
dle of the ice; and again and again they were
driven back by the stronger East-siders, who
even pursued them half-way up the hillside on
their own territory.
"Soldiers! cried Viggo, "we must fortify
this hill. It is our only salvation. Then we
can store a.niiunirion i-e-hid rite tbrecistvr:rks
and beat b t.:k every attempt : i I in.a-i.:,i. Timl
is the key r: ,_'tir i hoe c:- ointr \\e v ill c ll it
Fort Chalri.lge,-. The r,.er c.-in Lb cr.:-:se.J :r.nl
here where ihe c:urient .i:' trong. Ab-' ve
and below tl,,: ice is in-ecuire."
"Bravo. Geirer.fil. braio! \Nell-el
a dozen :.I:cl :
and with cne a- -
cord the Lt.o\'
fell to l"n' g
huge snov.blsk i
with which they
began to lI tLhe
"FOE A WHOLE WEEK THE BOYS LABORED."
Wait a minute," Viggo demanded, "till I
can trace the ground plan. It is of importance
that we should present only slanting surfaces to
the foe. Then the shot will not penetrate our
Amid great enthusiasm, the young com-
mander sat down to trace the ground plan in
pencil in his copy-book, while the boys crowded
about him,-some, I have to admit, offering
irrelevant, and some disrespectful suggestions.
The enemy's balls whizzed about his head while
he worked; but, like Napoleon at Austerlitz, he
did not allow himself to be disturbed, but
i'l a v. ill, in ite if benumt.ed fingers
and iro-'l-ni.[ccd e-irs, toL roll thilic bic snow-
ball: hicdh ere :'_ I-rni the iounl'rd tions. It
began to snow even while they were yet toil-
ing and planning; the enemy's missiles ceased
to annoy them, and soon the storm, as it
swept up the valley, blotted out the whole
landscape and hid the foe from sight. The
THE BOYS' WAR.
bugle was blown again; but as no response
came, it was taken for granted that the East-
siders had fallen back upon their provision-
train, and would not reappear that night. And,
truth to tell, the West-siders were also becoming
conscious of great hunger, and, therefore, had
no scruple in following their enemies' example.
How great iwas the dismay of General Viggo
and his men when, on returning to the spot the
next afternoon,- for in the morning they went
to school,- they found that the enemy had
utterly destroyed the foundations of Fort
Challenge. And, lo and behold! on the hill
opposite, on the eastern side of the river, a
half-finished fortress, the exact copy of their
own, was looming against the wintry sky. So
filled were they with wrath that they instantly
formed a flying column, and, crossing the river,
dashed up the hillside to wreak prompt ven-
geance. But they reckoned without their host
when they supposed that the hostile fort was
unguarded. A terrific volley of snowballs
hailed down upon them, and, with a wild yell,
the defenders leaped up on the breastworks and
continued to pour upon them a rattling fire
which compelled them to fall back to the river-
There was evidently nothing to be done until
they could rebuild Fort Challenge; and Viggo
had this time an idea which was greeted with
"Friends and fellow-soldiers," said he, "in
order to prevent the destruction of our fort,
I propose that we pour water upon our walls
as fast as we finish them. Then they will freeze
hard, and no one will be able to do much
damage in the time that will be at his com-
For a whole week the boys labored un-
weariedly, and Fort Challenge grew into a
large, two-storied structure, with proud ram-
parts, parapets, and cannon-gates. But right
across the river, almost beyond snowball range,
a similar structure rose; and every day the hos-
tile armies jeered and yelled at each other, and
exchanged random shots. But any real engage-
ment did not take place; for both generals
thought that it would be for their interest not
to molest each other until each had finished
his fortifications. Therefore, the white flag of
truce (which was a pillow-case) fluttered in the
breeze; and General Viggo with his own hands
had painted on it in big, lamp-black letters,
" Fort Challenge." But great indeed was his
astonishment when, on the following day, he
saw a similar flag fluttering from the enemy's
ramparts, bearing in sprawling letters the in-
scription, "Fort Defiance."
Marcus, the Muskrat, had been sent out daily
as a spy, to report the enemy's movements, and
he was generally very successful. But the third
time, when, under cover of a blinding snow-
storm, he had ventured too close under the walls
of Fort Defiance, he was captured, court-mar-
tialed, and sentenced to be shot. It was a
blood-curdling thing to watch him as he was
led out, calm and pale, and then to see him fall
prostrate in the snow, hit square in the chest by
six hard balls. But that did not prevent him,
when his executioners had turned their backs,
from jumping up and running as fast as his feet
could carry him, across the ice to Fort Challenge.
There was no denying that the East-siders
were frightfully jealous of the West-siders, on
many accounts. First, there were the drum
and the bugle which were beaten and blown
in Fort Challenge on every possible occasion;
while Fort Defiance could boast nothing but a
tin bucket, which made an ear-splitting but ex-
tremely unmelodious racket. Then again, Gen-
eral Viggo's real sword and military cap and
buttons (which he had found among the dis-
carded wardrobe of his father) aroused the
blackest envy of the Reitan army, who had no bit
of glittering finery to distinguish their uniforms
from their ordinary clothes. And when, on
the fifth day, to cap the climax, a real Norwe-
gian flag was unfurled from the topmost ram-
part of Fort Challenge, the East-siders set up
a yell of wrath, determined on the instant to
That was the real cause of the great and
famous battle which was fought between the
East-siders and the West-siders, October 21,
1884, the renown of which will last as long as
there are boys in Norway.
At about two o'clock in the afternoon the
THE BOYS' WAR.
thIir flag A :,l" iIc:e,
ani Lbe it the t1im
:.'" :klt 5s Ja lrnal
flr battle. The
dliar. ly re-',,:ni:led
by the be.fing of
th,- druin :n,.1l the
bl-ire of the trum-
per. General V\ig-
go moLuntjd th[e
t in'.:' rt ri nf -
tom,:st ra m-
s.ornfulI c hai.
lens-e (.asdi .
old.I t,: hi
,-*. r :.. -- .
_. .-a .
s -.::_? ..: .. *. -. .- : .. ..." .: ..
S^ ..^ae .'* -....
.,, ,; F., -4
.1 'Il'..- T,.-'
i *- H .
TiE "' : T': F rlq rr TH E .Li
IP 7 .r F, A _, I-,, ,:
foe; and Halvor Reitan, standing on the para-
pet of Fort Defiance, yelled back until his
Sla.,c-e wa- as
red as a bhilied
Then the bom-
bariment began. A %hole
arsenal of amjitrmunrii.n had been f tored be-,
hind the. ,aall, of eal, f:rtre-s, andJ rhe balls
Rfle- thi.:k .ntd iast, :picking off nirin alter
man, nrow in the one flrtress and nio% in the
ler. There were at l,.-at thimi bo\so on
e:lih _ire, ain.J -.:i re i wa: their mnrrnia
fuli th. t they r. -.e up. ag.ig n after they h-ad
bi1en w:url.ne:, and luge-d black vces
:ird ble',-- inr n,:-e. Tihe frr[t -enr,.us a,_,_ i-
Oentr :c urred v.hen :-iplu:ky Anto':n likkel-.on,
lo'-iIg lhio balanr:e, tumbled o:' er thie w all,
n.:l. tallintL on the- ,:utide,. rolled Hriht down
on the fr.:'zen riner. The E.:t--:iders., eeing
Scane :of nmalking- inim a rn-r :f ar, sent
O:iut ing clumn;r and the \\et-si:.er>, in iol-
der to rescue him, made a sortie in force. Lead-
ing his gallant army, General Viggo advanced
THE BOYS' WAR.
upon the ice, while the snowballs whizzed past
his ears, and poor Marcus, the adjutant, re-
ceived a tremendous hit right in his forehead
which raised a huge lump in an instant." But,
though he lost his balance, he was soon upon
his feet'again, and ran forward to shield his be-
loved commander from the missiles that flew
about his head. Halvor
Reitan, big, coarse, and
burly, cheered on his men
with a roar like that of an
angry lion; and they ad-
vanced, foot by foot, in
spite of the storm of snow- '
balls which greeted them.
Anton Mikkelson, slightly -
stunned by his fall, was
snatched up by a dozen
eager hands before the
West-siders could lay hold
of him, and would
have been -
antly to __
Fort De- I
fiance, if General
Viggo had not darted
forward with drawn sword
and compelled the foe to drop him.
And now commenced a hand-to-hand
fight which was simply tremendous. '
The boys wrestled, tumbled head over
heels, rose again, and, with loud whoops,
charged the ranks of their antagonists. "vcGGo p
No one minded bumps or scratches; nay,
the boys scarcely felt them, so filled were they
with hot zeal, so absorbed in the great game of
For twenty minutes the battle raged. Then
the East-side army gave way. Many fell down,
half exhausted, in the snow. The rest sud-
denly broke and ran, in spite of their general's
wrathful yells and calls. General Viggo, at
the head of his noble band, pursued them up
the slope, and, with a wild cheer, stormed the
walls of Fort Defiance. Marcus Henning was
the first to scale the rampart and snatch
the flag. He waved it thrice over his head,
and then carried it away in triumph. General
Viggo promptly demanded the unconditional
surrender of the fortress, and General Reitan,
seeing that his colors were struck, had -to ac-
cept the terms that were offered him. But when
he saw the West-siders march away with
his banner, he suddenly forgot his surrender;
and, beside himself with anger, he summoned
the remnant of his men,
and, rushing down upon
S the ice, charged once more
his victorious foe. The
West-siders, though taken
,. aback by such treachery,
turned about quickly and
Defended themselves right
valiantly. General Viggo
himself, who now carried
I the captured banner, was
bombarded with snowballs
-" from all sides. And Halvor
Reitan rushed straight at him to
snatch the flag away. But Viggo,
I A ,I though he was not so strong as
Halvor, fought desperately,
and, even after he was
knocked down, clung
to the flag-pole
r with all his
~Jc" -..' tI.,I "; strove
sr ieni him, and the East-
USHED THE POLE BEFORE HiM." riders were hurrying
to the assistance of
their commander, when suddenly a tremendous
crackling sound was heard, and the two armies
scurried away, panic-stricken, toward theriver-
banks. Did I say both armies ? Yes, but not
the two commanders. In the middle of the
river Halvor Reitan's wet, tousled head was
seen bobbing up, and a pair of outstretched
hands were trying desperately to clutch at some-
thing on the smooth ice. Viggo, who had al-
ready turned to run with the rest, heard his
piercing shrieks, and, forgetting all enmity, he
paused and looked back. There was his treach-
erous foe, pressed against the edge of the ice,
struggling in the fierce stream which might the
THE BOYS' WAR.
next moment pull him under. Viggo's heart
beat wildly. He saw the long cracks in the
ice which were slowly widening from the force
of the current. But, summoning all his courage,
he plunged forward and, flinging himself flat on
the ice, he pushed the flag-pole before him until
it was within reach of the drowning boy.
Hold on tight! cried Viggo; "don't let
And, to be sure, Halvor held on tight enough.
But the great question was for Viggo to get a
safe footing, so as to brace himself for a mighty
pull. The boys on shore stood staring with
bated breath; for a moment not a single one
moved. Then, quick as a flash, Marcus, the
Muskrat, darted out on the river.
He had spiked soles on his boots, and, though
the ice seemed to be adrift under his feet, he
Now, General," he shouted, seizing Viggo
by both legs, and boring his heels into the ice,
"now give a pull, and a big one One, two,
That was a wrench that nearly tore Viggo's
arms out of their sockets. He felt numb all
over, and there was a film before his eyes.
When his sight cleared, he saw Halvor Reitan
crawling toward him, still fearing to let go the
end of the flag-pole. Cautiously he pushed
himself forward until he was at Viggo's side
Then the valiant Muskrat grabbed them both
by the feet and quickly dragged them ashore.
That was the end of the siege. And it was
the end, too, of the war between the West-siders
and the East-siders. Halvor, dripping wet as
he was, and shivering to the marrow of his
bones, grasped his rescuer's hand, and, wring-
ing it, I won't fight you any more," he said,
with quivering lips; "you are a much better
fellow than I am. But-but-if you should
ever get-into a scrape-and-and-want
the fists of a friend -you know where to find
So saying, he rejoined his fellows; and, at his
beck, they all doffed their caps and gave three
hearty cheers for their friends the enemy.
A MARCH BIRD.
By ROBERT F. RODEN.
THOUGH blasts of March are roaring high,
And clouds run races through the sky,
And weathercocks are vexed to know
Which way to point the winds that blow,
And in the snowdrifts on the hill
Winter lies hid in ambush still -
Thou, little bird, with faithful wing
Hast staked thy life upon the Spring-
Hast come, so full of life possessed
Winds ruffle but thine outer breast.
Perched on the garden's tallest pear,
Because last year thy nest was there,
Thy song is of a quiet tune
Unto the halcyon days of June.
THE KING'S ANKUS.
By RUDYARD KIPLING.
ERE Mor the peacock flutters, ere the Monkey-people cry,
Ere Chil the kite swoops down a furlong sheer,
Through the jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh-
He is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, he is Fear!
Verysoftlydown the glade runs a waiting, watching shade,
And the whisper spreads and widens far and near;
And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now -
He is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, he is Fear!
Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks
are ribbed with light,
When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear,
Comes a breathing hard behind thee, snuffle-snuffle
through the night-
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!
On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the thrilling
THESE jungle tales are told the same way that
Baloo left the Bee-rocks-any end first; and
you must take them as they come-just as the
frog took the white ants after the rains.
Kaa, the big rock-python, had changed his
skin for exactly the hundredth time since his
birth; and Mowgli, who never forgot that he
owed his life to'Kaa for a night's work at Cold
Lairs, which you may perhaps remember, went
to congratulate him. Skin-changing always
makes a snake moody and depressed till the
new skin begins to shine and look beautiful.
Kaa never made fun of Mowgli any more, but
accepted him, as the other Jungle-people did,
for the Master of the Jungle, and brought him
all the news that a python of his size would
naturally hear. What Kaa did not know about
the Middle Jungle, as they call it,- the life that
runs close to the earth or under it, the boulder,
In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear;
But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left
thy cheek -
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!
When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the sliv-
ered pine-trees fall,
When the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear,
Through the trumpets of the thunder rings a voice more
loud than all-
It is Fear, O' Little Hunter, it is Fear!
Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless
Now the blinding, lashing rain-squalls shift and veer;
But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against
Hammers: Fear, 0 Little Hunter- this is Fear!
-Song of the Little Hunter.
burrow, and the tree-bole life,-might have been
written upon the smallest of his scales.
That afternoon Mowgli was sitting in. the
circle of Kaa's great coils, fingering the flaked
and broken old skin that lay all looped and
twisted among the rocks just as Kaa had left
it. Kaa had very courteously packed himself
under Mowgli's broad, bare shoulders, so that
the boy was really resting in a living arm-chair.
Even to the scales of the eyes it is perfect,"
said Mowgli, under his breath, playing with the
old skin. Strange to see the covering of one's
own head at one's own feet."
"Aye, but I lack feet," said Kaa; "and since
this is the custom of all my people, I do not
find it strange. Does thy skin never feel old
and harsh ?"
"Then go I and wash, Flathead; but, it is
true, in the great heats I have wished I could
slough my skin without pain, and run skinless."
I wash, and also I take off my skin. How is more gay, but not so hard. It is very beau-
looks the new coat ? tiful to see like the mottling in the mouth
Mowgli ran his hand down the diagonal of a lily."
MOWGLI AND KAA IN THE POOL. (SEE NEXT PAGE.)
checkerings of the immense back. The turtle It needs water. A new skin never comes
is harder-backed, but not so gay," he said to full color before the first bath. Let us go
judgmatically. "The frog, my name-bearer, bathe."
THE K-ING'S ANK(US.
THE KING'S ANKUS.
"I will carry thee," said Mowgli; and he
stooped down, laughing, to lift the middle
section of Kaa's great body, just where the
barrel was thickest. A man might just as well
have tried to heave up a two-foot water-main;
and Kaa lay still, puffing with quiet amusement.
Then the regular evening game began -the
boy in the flush of his great strength, and the
python in his sumptuously painted new skin,
standing up one against the other for a wres-
tling-match-a trial of eye and strength. Of
course Kaa could have crushed a dozen Mow-
glis if he had let himself go; but he played care-
fully, and never loosed one tenth of his power.
Ever since Mowgli was strong enough to endure
a little rough handling, Kaa had taught him
this game, and it supplied his limbs as nothing
else could. Sometimes Mowgli would stand lap-
ped almost to his throat in Kaa's shifting coils,
striving to get one arm free and catch him by
the throat. Then Kaa would give way limply,
and Mowgli with both quick-moving feet would
try to cramp the purchase of that huge tail as
it flung backward feeling for a rock or a stump.
They would rock to and fro, head to head, each
waiting for his chance, till the beautiful, statue-
like group melted in a whirl of black-and-yellow
coils and struggling legs and arms, to rise up
again and again. "Now! Now! Now!" said
Kaa, making feints with his head that even
Mowgli's quick hand could not turn aside.
"Look! I touch thee here, Little Brother!
Here, and here! Are thy hands numb? Here
The game always ended one way- with a
straight, driving blow of the head that knocked
the boy over and over. Mowgli could never
-! learn the guard for that lightning lunge, and,
as Kaa said, it was not the least use trying.
Good hunting !" Kaa grunted at last; and
Mowgli, as usual, was shot away half a dozen
yards, gasping and laughing. He rose with his
fingers full of grass, and followed Kaa to the
wise old snake's pet bathing-place-a deep,
pitchy-black pool surrounded with rocks and
made interesting by sunken tree-stumps. The
boy slipped in, jungle-fashion, without a sound,
and dived across; rose, too, without a sound,
and turned on his back, his arms behind his
head, watching the moon rising above the rocks,
and breaking up her reflection in the water
with his toes. Kaa's diamond-shaped head cut
the pool like a razor, and came out to rest on
Mowgli's shoulder. They lay still, soaking lux-
uriously in the cool water.
It is very good," said Mowgli at last,
sleepily. Now in the Man-pack, at this hour,
as I remember, they laid them down upon hard
pieces of wood in the inside of a mud-trap, and,
having carefully shut out all the clean winds,
drew foul cloth over their heavy heads, and made
evil songs through their noses. It is better in
A hurrying cobra slipped down over a rock
and drank, gave them "Good hunting!" and
"Sssh! said Kaa, as though he had sud-
denly remembered something. "So the jungle
gives thee all that thou hast ever desired, Little
"Not all," said Mowgli, laughing; "else there
would be a new and strong Shere Khan to kill
once a moon. Now I could kill with my own
hands, asking no help of buffaloes. And also
I have wished the sun to shine in the middle
of the rains, and the rains to cover the sun in
the deep of summer; and also I have never
gone empty but I wished that I had killed a
goat; and also I have never killed a goat but
I wished it had been buck; nor buck but I
wished it had been nilghai. But thus do we
feel, all of us."
"Thou hast no other desires ? the big snake
What more can I wish? I have the jungle,
and the love of the jungle? Is there more
anywhere between sunrise and sunset ?"
Now the cobra said -"-'Kaa began.
What cobra ? He. that went away just now
said nothing. He was hunting."
It was another."
"Hast thou many dealings with the Poison-
people ? I give them their own path. They
carry death in the fore-tooth, ana that is not
good-for they are so small. But what hood
is this thou hast spoken with?"
Kaa rolled slowly in the water like a steamer
in a beam sea. Three or four moons since,"
said he, "I hunted in Cold Lairs, which place
thou hast not forgotten. And the thing I
z895.] THE KIN(
hunted fled shrieking past the tanks and to
that house whose side I once broke, and ran
into the ground."
But the people of Cold Lairs do not live in
burrows." Mowgli knew that Kaa was talking
of the Bandar-log (the Monkey-people).
"COLD LAIRS STOOD
EMPTY AND SILENT IN THE MOONLIGHT."
"This thing was not living, but seeking to
live," Kaa replied, with a quiver of his tongue.
"He ran into a burrow that led very far. I
followed, and having killed I slept. When
I waked I went forward."
"Under the earth ?"
"Even so, coming at last upon a White Hood
[a white cobra], whp spoke of things beyond
my knowledge, and showed me many things I
had never before seen."
"New game? Was it good hunting?" Mow-
gli turned quickly on his side.
"It was no game, and would have broken
all my teeth; but the White Hood said that a
man-he spoke as one that knew the breed-
that a man would give the breath under his ribs
for only the sight of those things."
and he is indeed as old as the jungle: It is
long since I have seen a man. Let him come,
and he shall see all these things, for the least
of which very many men would die.'"
"That must be new game. And yet the
Poison-people do not tell us when game is
afoot. They are an unfriendly folk."
"It is not game. It is-it is-I cannot say
what it is."
"We will go there. I have never seen a
White Hood, and I wish to see the other
things. Did he kill them?"
"They are all dead things. He says he is
the keeper of them all."
"Ah! As a wolf stands above meat he has
taken to his own lair. Let us go."
Mowgli swam to the bank, rolled in the grass
'S ANKUS. 365
"We will look," said Mowgli. "I now re-
member that I was once a man."
"Slowly-slowly. It was haste killed the
Yellow Snake that ate the sun. We two spoke
together under the earth, and I spoke of thee,
naming thee as a man. Said the White Hood,
THE KING'S ANKUS.
to dry himself, and the two set off for Cold Lairs,
the deserted city of which you have heard.
Mowgli was not the least afraid of the Monkey-
people in those days, but the Monkey-people
had the liveliest horror of Mowgli. Their tribes,
however, were raiding in the jungle, and so
Cold Lairs stood empty and silent in the moon-
light. Kaa led up to the ruins of the queen's
pavilion that stood on the terrace, slipped over
the rubbish, and dived down the half-choked
staircase that went underground from the center
of the pavilion. Mowgli gave the snake-call,-
" We be of one blood, ye and I,"-and followed
on his hands and knees. They crawled a long
distance down a sloping passage that turned and
twisted several times, and at last came to where
the root of some great tree growing thirty feet
overhead had forced out a solid stone in the
wall. They crept through the gap, and found
themselves in a large vault whose domed roof
had been also broken away by tree-roots so that
a few streaks of light dropped down into the
"A safe lair," said Mowgli, rising to his firm
feet, "but over far to come daily. And now
what do we see?"
"Am I nothing?" said a voice in the middle
of the vault; and Mowgli saw something white
move till, little by little, there stood up the
hugest cobra he had ever set eyes on-a crea-
ture nearly eight feet long, and bleached by
being in darkness to an old ivory white. Even
the spectacle-marks of his spread hood had
faded to faint yellow. His eyes were as red
as rubies, and altogether he was a most won-
derful creature to see.
Good hunting! said Mowgli, who carried
his manners with his knife, and that never left
What of the city ? said the White Cobra,
without answering the greeting. "What of the
great, the walled city- the city of a hundred
elephants and twenty thousand horses, and cat-
tle past counting--the city of the king of
twenty kings ? I grow deaf here, and it is long
since I heard their war-gongs."
"The jungle is above our heads," said Mow-
gli. "I know only Hathi and his sons among
elephants. Bagheera has slain all the horses in
one village, and what is a king ? "
I told thee," said Kaa softly to the cobra,-
"I told thee, four moons ago, that thy city was
The city- the great city of the forest whose
gates are guarded by the king's towers-can
never pass. They builded it before my fa-
ther's father came from the egg, and it shall
endure when my son's sons are as white as I.
Salomdhi, son of Chandrabija, son of Viyeja,
son of Yegasuri, made it in the days of Bappa
Rawal. Whose cattle are ye ?"
It is a lost trail," said Mowgli, turning to
Kaa. "I know not his talk."
"Nor I. He is very old. Father of Cobras,
there is only the jungle here, as it has been
since the beginning."
"Then who is he," said the White Cobra,
"sitting down before me, unafraid, knowing
not the name of the king, talking our talk
through a man's lips? Who is he with the
knife and the snake's tongue ? "
Mowgli they call me," was the. answer.
"I am of the jungle. The wolves are my peo-
ple, and Kaa here is my brother. Father of
Cobras, who art thou? "
"I am the Warden of the king's treasure.
Kurrun Raja builded the stone above me, in
the days when my skin was dark, that I might
teach death to those who came to steal. Then
they let down the treasure through the stone,
and I heard the song of the Brahmins my
Umm! said Mowgli to himself. "I have
dealt with one Brahmin already, in the Man-
pack, and I know what I know. Evil is
coming here in a little time."
"Five times since I came here has the stone
been lifted, but always to let down more, and
never to take away. There are no riches like
these riches the treasures of a hundred kings.
But it is long and long since the stone was last
moved, and I think that my city has forgotten."
"There is no city. Look up. Yonder are
the roots of the great trees tearing the stones
apart. Trees and men do not grow together,"
Twice and thrice have men found their way
here," the White Cobra answered savagely;
"but they never spoke till I came upon them
groping in the dark, and then they cried only
THE KING'S ANKUS.
a little time. But ye come with lies, man and
snake both, and would have me believe the
city is not, and that my wardenship ends. Lit-
tle do men change in the years. But I change
never. Till the stone is lifted, and the Brah-
mins come down singing the songs that I
know, and feed me with warm milk and take
me to the light again, I-I-I, and no other,
am the Warden of the king's treasure. The
city is dead, ye say, and here are the roots of
the trees? Stoop down, then, and take what
ye will. Earth has no treasure like this. Man
with the snake's tongue, if thou canst go alive
by the way that thou hast entered at, the lesser
kings will be thy servants i"
"Again the trail is lost," said Mowgli, coolly.
"Can any jackal have burrowed so deep and
bitten this great White Hood? He is surely
mad. Father of Cobras, I see nothing here to
"By the Gods of the Sun and Moon, it is
the madness of death upon the boy!" hissed
the cobra. "Before thy eyes close I will do
thee this favor. Look thou, and see what man
has never seen before."
"They do not well in the jungle who speak
to Mowgli of favors," said the boy, between his
teeth; "but the dark changes all, as I know. I
will look, if that please thee."
He stared with puckered-up eyes round the
vault, and then lifted up from the floor a hand-
ful of something that glittered.
Oho! said he, "this is like the stuff they
play with in the Man-pack, only this is yellow
and the other was brown."
He let the heavy gold pieces fall, and moved
forward. The floor of the vault was buried
some five or six feet deep in coined gold and
silver that had burst from the sacks it had
been originally stored in, and, in the long
years, the metal had packed and settled as
sand packs at low tide. On it and in it, and
rising up through it as wrecks lift through the
sand, were jeweled elephant-howdahs of state,
of embossed silver three fingers thick, studded
with plates of hammered gold, adorned with
carbuncles and turquoises. There were pa-
lanquins and litters for carrying queens, framed
and braced with silver and enamel, with jade-
handled poles and amber curtain-rings; there
were golden candlesticks hung with pierced
emeralds quivering on the branches; there
were studded images, five feet high, of forgotten
gods, silver with jeweled eyes; there were coats
of mail, gold inlaid on steel, and fringed with
rotted and blackened seed-pearls; there were
helmets crested and beaded with pigeon's-blood
rubies; there were shields of lacquer, of tortoise-
shell and rhinoceros hide, strapped and bossed
with red gold and set with emeralds at the
edge; there were sheaves of diamond-hilted
swords, daggers, and hunting-knives; there were
golden sacrificial bowls and ladles, and port-
able altars of a shape that never see the
light of day; there were jade cups and brace-
lets; there were incense-burners, combs, and
pots for perfume, henna, and eye-powder, all
in embossed gold; there were nose-rings, armlets,
head-bands, finger-rings, and girdles past any
counting; there were belts seven fingers broad,
of square-cut diamonds and rubies, and wooden
boxes trebly clamped with iron, from which
the wood had fallen away in powder, showing
the pile of uncut star-sapphires, opals, cat's-
eyes, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds,
and garnets within.
The White Cobra was right. No mere
money would begin to pay the value of this
treasure, the sifted 'pickings of centuries of war,
plunder, trade, and taxation. The coins alone
were priceless, leaving out of count all the pre-
cious stones; and the dead weight of the gold
and silver alone might be two or three hun-
dred tons. Every native ruler in India to-day,
however poor, has a hoard to which he is always
adding; and though once in a long while some
enlightened prince may send off forty or fifty
bullock-cart loads of silver to be exchanged
for government securities, the bulk of them
keep their treasure and the knowledge of it
very closely to themselves.
But Mowgli naturally did not understand
what these things meant. The knives inter-
ested him a little, but they did not balance as
well as his own, and so he dropped them. At
last he found something really interesting laid
on the front of a howdah half buried in the
coins. It was a four-foot ankus, or elephant-
goad-something like a small boat-hook. The
top was one round shining ruby, and eighteen
THE KING'S ANKUS.
inches of the handle below it were studded with
rough turquoises close together, giving a most
satisfactory grip. Below them was a rim of
jade with a flower-pattern running round it-
only the leaves were emeralds, and the blos-
soms were rubies sunk in the cool, green stone.
The rest of the handle was a shaft of pure
ivory, and the point-the spike and hook-
was gold-inlaid steel with pictures of elephant-
catching; and the pictures attracted Mowgli,
who saw that they had something to do with
his friend Hathi the Silent.
The White Cobra had been following him
Is it not worth dying to behold ? he said.
"Have I not done thee a great favor ?"
I do not understand," said Mowgli. "The
things are hard and cold, and by no means
good to eat. But this"-he lifted the ankus--
" I desire to take away, that I may see it in the
sun. Thou sayest they are all thine. Wilt thou
give it to me, and I will bring thee frogs to eat ? "
The White Cobra fairly shook with evil
delight. "Assuredly I will give it," he said.
"All that is here I will give thee-till thou
"But I go now. This place is dark and
cold, and I wish to take the thorn-pointed
thing to the jungle."
Look by thy foot! What is that there ?"
Mowgli picked up something white and
smooth. It is the bone of a man's head," he
said quietly. "And here are two more."
They came to take the treasure away many
years ago. I spoke to them in the dark, and
they lay still."
"But what do I need of this that is called
treasure? If thou wilt give me the ankus to
take away, it is good hunting. If not, it is good
hunting none the less. I do not fight with the
Poison-people, and I was also taught the Mas-
ter-word for thy tribe."
"There is but one Master-word here. It is
Kaa flung himself forward with blazing eyes.
"Who bade me bring the man?" he hissed.
I surely," the old cobra lisped. "It is long
since I have seen man, and this man speaks
But there was no talk of killing. How can
I go to the jungle and say that I have led him
to his death ?" said Kaa.
"I never talk of killing till the time. And
as to thy going or not going, there is the hole
in the wall. Peace now, thou fat monkey-
killer! I have but to touch thy neck, and the
jungle will know thee no longer. Never man
came here that went away with the breath
under his ribs. I am the Warden of the treasure
of the king's city! "
But, thou white worm of the dark, I tell
thee there is neither king nor city The jungle
is all about us! cried Kaa.
"There is still the treasure. But this can be
done. Wait a while, Kaa of the Rocks, and see
the boy run. There is room for great sport
here. Life is good. Run to and fro a while,
and make sport, boy."
Mowgli put his hand oA Kaa's head quietly.
"The white thing has dealt with men of the
Man-pack until now. He does not know me,"
he whispered. "He has asked for this hunting.
Let him have it." Mowgli had been standing
with the ankus held point down. He flung it
from him quickly, and it dropped crossways just
behind the great snake's hood, pinning him to
the floor. In a flash Kaa's weight was upon the
writhing body, paralyzing it from hood to tail.
The red eyes burned, and the six spare inches
of the head struck furiously right and left.
"Kill," said Kaa, as Mowgli's hand went to
"No," he said, as he drew the blade. "I
will never kill again save for food. But look
you, Kaa!" He caught the snake behind the
hood, forced the mouth open with the blade of
the knife, and showed the terrible poison-fangs
of the upper jaw lying black and withered in
the gum. The White Cobra had outlived his
poison, as a snake will.
Thuu" ("it is dried up "),* said Mowgli;
and, motioning Kaa away, he picked up the
ankus, setting the White Cobra free.
"The king's treasure needs a new warden,"
he said gravely. "Thuu, thou hast not done
well. Run to and fro and make sport, Thuu!"
"I am ashamed. Kill me!" hissed the
* Literally, a rotted out tree-stump.
THE KING'S ANKUS.
"There has been too much talk of killing.
We will go now. I take the thorn-pointed
thing, Thuu, because I have fought and worsted
See then that the thing does not kill thee at
last. It is death! Remember, it is death!
There is enough in that thing to kill the men
of all my city. Not long wilt thou hold it,"
jungle man, nor he who takes it from thee.
They will kill and kill and kill for its sake! My
strength is dried up, but the ankus will do my
work. It is death! It is death It is death "
Mowgli crawled out through the hole into
the passage again, and the last that he saw was
the White Cobra striking furiously with his
harmless fangs at the solid golden faces of the
gods that lay on the floor, and hissing, It is
They were glad to get to the light of day
once more; and when they were back in their
own jungle and Mowgli made the ankus glitter
in the morning light, he was almost as pleased
as though he had found a bunch of new flow-
ers to stick in his hair.
"This is brighter than Bagheera's eyes," he
said delightedly, as he twirled the ruby. I
will show it to him; but what did the Thuu
mean when he talked of death ?"
"I cannot say. I am sorrowful to my tail's
tail that he felt not thy knife. There is always
evil at Cold Lairs-above ground and below.
But now I am hungry. Dost thou hunt with
me this dawn? said Kaa.
"No; Bagheera must see this thing. Good
hunting Mowgli danced off, flourishing the
great ankus, and stopping from time to time
to admire it, till he came to that part of the
jungle Bagheera chiefly used, and found him
drinking after a heavy kill. Mowgli told him
all his adventures from beginning to end, and
Bagheera sniffed at the ankus between whiles.
When Mowgli came to the White Cobra's last
words, Bagheera purred approvingly.
"Then the White Hood spoke the thing
which is ?" Mowgli asked quickly.
I was born in the king's cages at Oodey-
pore, and it is in my stomach that I know some
little of man. Very many men would kill thrice
in a night for the sake of that one big red
But the stone makes it heavy to the hand.
My little bright knife is better; and-see! the
red stone is not good to eat."
"They would not kill because it is sharp, or
because it is good to eat."
"Then why would they kill?"
"Mowgli, go thou and sleep. Thou hast
lived among men, and-"
"I remember. Men kill because they are
not hunting; for idleness and pleasure. Wake
again, Bagheera. For what use was this thorn-
pointed thing made ? "
Bagheera half opened his eyes-he was very
sleepy-with a malicious twinkle.
It was made by men to thrust into the head
of the sons of Hathi, so that the blood should
pour out. I have seen the like in the street
of Oodeypore, before our cages. That thing
has tasted the blood of many such as Hathi."
"But why did they thrust into the heads
of elephants ? "
"To teach them Man's Law. Having neither
claws nor teeth, men make these things and
"Always more blood when I come near, even
to the things the Man-pack have made," said
Mowgli, disgustedly. He was getting a little
tired of the weight of the ankus. "If I had
known this, I would 'not have taken it. First
it was Messua's blood on the thongs, and now
it is Hathi's. I will use it no more. Look!"
The ankus flew sparkling, and buried itself
point down thirty yards away, between the trees.
" So my hands are clean of death," said Mowgli,
rubbing his palms on the fresh, moist earth.
"The Thuu said death would follow me. He
is old and white and mad."
"White or black, or death or life, I am going
to sleep, Little Brother. I cannot hunt all night
and howl all day, as do some folk."
Bagheera went off to a hunting-lair that he
used, about two miles off. Mowgli made an easy
way for himself up a convenient tree, knotted
three or four creepers together, and in less time
than it takes to tell was swinging in a hammock
fifty feet above ground. Though he had no
positive objection to strong daylight, Mowgli
followed the custom of his friends, and used it
as little as he could. When he waked among
the very loud-voiced bird-peoples that live in
THE KING S ANKUS.
the trees, it was twilight once more, and he had Now we shall see whether the Thuu spoke
been dreaming of the beautiful pebbles he had truth. If the pointed thing is death, that man
thrown away. will die. Let us follow."
"At least I will look at the thing again," he "Kill first," said Bagheera. "An empty
stomach makes a care-
less eye. Men go very
slowly, and the jungle
is wet enough to hold
the lightest mark."
They killed as soon as
they could, but it was
nearly three hours be-
fore they finished their
meat and drink and
buckled down to the
know that nothing makes
up for being hurried
over your meals.
"Think you the point-
ed thing will turn in the
man's hand ..and.ill
him? Mowgli asked.
"The Thuu said it was
"We shall see when
we find," said Bagheera,
trotting with his head
low. It is single-foot"
(he meant that there
was only one man),
"and the weight of the
thing has pressed his
heel far into the ground."
Hail This is as clear
as summer lightning,"
Mowgli answered; and
they fell into the quick,
choppy trail-trot in and
out through the checkers
of the moonlight, fol-
lowing the marks of
THEY FELL INTO THE QUICK, CHOPPY TRAIL-TROT, FOLLOWING THE MARKS those two bare feet.
OF THOSE TWO BARE FEET." Now he runs swiftly,"
said, and slid down a creeper to the earth; but said Mowgli. "The toes are spread apart."
Bagheera was before him. Mowgli could hear They went on over some wet ground. Now
the panther snuffing in the half light. why does he turn aside here? "
"Where is the thorn-pointed thing ?" cried "Wait!" said Bagheera, and flung himself
Mowgli. forward with one superb bound as far as ever
"A man has taken it. Here is his trail." he could. The first thing to do when a trail
THE KING'S ANKUS.
ceases to explain itself is to cast forward with-
out leaving your own foot-marks on the ground.
Bagheera turned as he landed, and faced Mow-
gli, crying, Here comes another trail to meet
him. It is a smaller foot, this second trail, and
the toes turn inward."
Then Mowgli ran up and looked. "It is the
foot of a Gond hunter," he said. "Look!"
Here he dragged his bow on the grass. That
is why the first trail turned aside so quickly.
Big Foot hid from Little Foot."
That is true," said Bagheera. Now, lest
by crossing each other's tracks we foul the signs,
let each take one trail. I am Big Foot, Little
Brother, and thou art Little Foot the Gond."
Bagheera leaped back to the original trail,
leaving Mowgli stooping above the curious nar-
row track of the wild little man of the woods.
Now," said Bagheera, moving step by step
along the chain of footprints, I, Big Foot, turn
aside here. Now I hide me behind a rock and
stand still, not daring to shift my feet. Cry
thy trail, Little Brother."
Now I, Little Foot, come to the rock," said
Mowgli, running up his trail. "Now I sit down
under the rock, leaning upon my right hand,
and resting my bow between my toes. I wait
long, for the mark of my feet is deep here."
"I also," said Bagheera, hidden behind the
rock. "I wait, resting the end of the thorn-
pointed thing upon a stone. It slips, for here
is a scratch upon the stone. Cry thy trail,
One, two twigs and a big branch are bro-
ken here," said Mowgli, in an undertone. "Now
how shall I cry that? Ah! It is plain now.
I, Little Foot, go away making noises and
tramplings that Big Foot may hear me." The
boy moved away from the rock pace by pace
among the trees, his voice rising in the distance
as he approached a little cascade. "I -go
-far away- to- where -the- noise- of
- falling- water- covers my-noise; and
- here- I wait. Cry thy trail, Bagheera,
The panther had been casting in every direc-
tion to see how Big Foot's trail led away from
behind the rock. Then he gave tongue.
"I come from behind the rock upon my
knees, dragging the thorn-pointed thing. See-
ing no one, I run. I, Big Foot, run swiftly. The
trails clear. Let each follow his own. I run! "
Bagheera swept on along the clearly marked
trail, and Mowgli followed the steps of the Gond.
For some time there was silence in the jungle.
"Where art thou, Little Foot?" cried Ba-
gheera. Mowgli's voice answered him not fifty
yards to the right.
"Um!" said the panther, with a deep cough.
"The two run side by side, drawing nearer!"
They raced on another half mile, always
keeping about the same distance, till Mowgli,
whose head was not so close to the ground as
Bagheera's, cried: "They have met. Good
hunting--look! Here stood Little Foot, with
his knee on a rock- and yonder is Big Foot."
Not ten yards in front of them, stretched across
a pile of broken rocks, lay the body of a vil-
lager of the district, with a long, small-feathered
Gond arrow through his back and breast.
"Was the Thuu so old and so mad, Little
Brother?" said Bagheera, gently. "This is
one death, at least."
"Follow on. But where is the drinker of
elephant's blood-the red-eyed thorn?"
Little Foot has it-perhaps. It is single-
foot again now."
The single trail of a light man who had
been running quickly and bearing a burden
on his left shoulder, held on round a long, low
spur of dried grass, on which each footfall
seemed to be marked in hot iron to the sharp
eyes of the trackers.
Neither spoke till the trail ran up to the
ashes of a camp-fire hidden in a ravine.
"Again!" said Bagheera, checking as though
he had been turned into stone.
The body of the little wizened Gond lay with
its feet in the ashes, and Bagheera looked in-
quiringly at Mowgli.
"That was done with a bamboo," said the
boy, after one glance. "I have used such a
thing among the buffaloes when I served in the
Man-pack. The Father of Cobras -I am sor-
rowful that I made a jest of him-knew the
breed well, as I might have known. Said I
not that men kill for idleness?"
"Indeed, they killed for the sake of the red
andblue stones," Bagheera answered. Remem-
ber, I was in the king's cages at Oodeypore."
THE KING'S ANKUS.
"One, two, three, four tracks," said Mowgli,
stooping over the ashes. Four tracks of men
with shod feet. They do not go so quickly as
Gonds. Now, what evil had the little w6od-
man done to them ? See, they talked together
all five, standing up, before they killed him.
Bagheera, let us go back. My stomach is heavy
"Here is one that has done with feeding,"
said he. A tumbled bundle of gay-colored
clothes lay under a bush, and round it was
some spilt flour.
"That was done by the bamboo again," said
Mowgli. "See! that white dust is what men
eat. They have taken the kill from this one,-
' BAGHEERA FLUNG HIMSELF FORWARD WITH ONE SUPERB BOUND."
in me, and yet it goes up and down like an
oriole's nest at the end of a branch."
"It is not good hunting to leave the game
afoot. Follow," said the panther. "Those eight
shod feet have not gone far."
No more was said for fully an hour, as they
looked up the broad trail of the four men with
It was clear, hot daylight now, and Bagheera
said, "I smell smoke."
Men are always more ready to eat than to
run," Mowgli answered, trotting in and out be-
tween the low scrub bushes of the new jungle
they were exploring. Bagheera, a little to his
left, made an indescribable noise in his throat.
he carried their food,- and given him for a kill
to Chil the kite."
"It is the third," said Bagheera.
I will go with new, big frogs to the Father
of Cobras, and feed him fat," said Mowgli to
himself. "The drinker of elephants' blood is
Death himself- but still I do not understand."
"Follow! said Bagheera.
They had not gone half a mile further when
they heard Ko the crow singing the death-song
in the top of a tamarisk under whose shade
three men were lying. A half-dead fire smoked
in the center of the circle, under an iron plate
which held a blackened and burned cake of
unleavened bread. Close to the fire, and blaz-
THE KING'S ANKUS.
ing in the sunshine, lay the ruby-and-turquoise
"The thing works quickly; all ends here,"
said Bagheera. "How did these die, Mowgli?
There is no mark nor rub on any one."
A jungle-dweller gets to learn by experience
as much as a great many doctors know of poi-
sonous plants and berries. Mowgli sniffed the
smoke that came up from the fire, broke off
a morsel of the blackened bread, tasted it, and
spat it out again.
"Apple of death," he coughed. "The first
must have made it ready in the food for these,
who killed him, having first killed the Gond."
Good hunting, indeed! The kills follow
close," said Bagheera.
"Apple of death" is what the Jungle call
thorn-apple or dhatura, the readiest poison in
"What now?" said the panther. Shall
thou and I kill each other for yonder red-eyed
Can it speak ? said Mowgli, in a whisper.
"Did I do it a wrong when I threw it away?
Between us two it can do no wrong, for we
do not desire what men desire. If it be left
here, it will assuredly continue to kill men one
after another as fast as nuts fall in a high wind.
I have no love to men, but even I would not
have them die six in a night."
"What matter? They are only men. They
killed one another, and were well pleased," said
Bagheera. "That first little woodman hunted
"They are cubs none the less; and a cub
will drown himself to bite the moon's light on
the water. The fault was mine," said Mowgli,
who spoke as though he knew all about every-
thing. "I will never again bring into the
jungle strange things-not though they be as
beautiful as flowers. This "-he handled the
ankus gingerly--"goes back to the Father of
Cobras. But first we must sleep, and we cannot
sleep near these sleepers. Also we must bury
him, lest he run away and kill another six. Dig
me a hole under that tree."
But, Little Brother," said Bagheera, moving
off to the spot, I tell thee it is no fault of the
blood-drinker. The trouble is with the men."
"All one," said Mowgli. "Dig the hole
deep. When we wake I will take him up and
carry him back."
Two nights later, as the White Cobra sat
mourning in the darkness of the vault, ashamed
and robbed and alone, the turquoise ankus
whirled through the hole in the wall, and
clashed on the floor of golden coins.
"Father of Cobras," said Mowgli (he was
careful to keep the other side of the wall), "get
thee a young and ripe one of thy own people
to help thee guard the king's treasure so that
no man may come away alive any more."
"Ah-ha! It returns, then. I said the thing
was death. How comes it that thou art still
alive? the old cobra mumbled, twining lovingly
round the ankus-haft.
By the Bull that bought me, I do not know!
That thing has killed six times in a night. Let
him go out no more."
By HARRIET F. BLODGETT.
THREE ships there be a-sailing
Betwixt the sea and sky:
And one is Now, and one is Then,
And one is By and By.
The first little ship is all for you-
Its masts are gold, its sails are blue,
And this is the cargo it brings:
Joyful days with sunlight glowing,
Nights where dreams like stars are growing.
Take them, sweet, or they '11 be going!
For they every one have wings.
The second ship it is all for me-
A-sailing on a misty sea
And out across the twilight gray.
What it brought of gift and blessing
Would.not stay for my caressing-
Was too dear for my possessing,
So it sails and sails away.
The last ship, riding fair and high
Upon the sea, is By and By.
0 Wind, be kind and gently blow!
Not too swiftly hasten hither,
When she turns, sweet, you '11 go with her-
Sailing, floating, hither, thither-
To what port I may not know.
MARJORIE: "UPSET ME IF YOU DARE! PLEASE DON'T!
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
BY HOWARD PYLE.
[Begun in the April number.
THE BEGINNING OF THE VOYAGE.
AT first the three fugitives the young lady,
and Jack, and Dred -sailed along in silence.
The wind blew swiftly, and the dark, silent
shores seemed to slide away strangely and mys-
teriously behind them. As they ran out into
the broad, misty waters of the great river, the
moon was just rising from a bank of clouds in
the east, and an obscure light lit up everything
indistinctly. .The wind was blowing fresh and
cool, and, as the boat came further and further
out into the wider waters, it began to pitch
and dance. "About!" called Dred, and, as
he put down the tiller and drew in the sheet
hand over hand, the sail flapping and fluttering,
Jack and the young lady crouched, and the
boom came swinging over. The boat heeled
over upon the other course, and then drove for-
ward swiftly, with a white splash of loud water
at the bow. The long, misty wake trailed be-
hind, flashing every now and then with a sud-
den dull sparkle of pallid phosphorescence.
Neither Jack nor Dred had spoken any word
to the young lady since they had left the wharf.
She sat silent and motionless in the stern.
Jack had gone forward to raise the peak a little
higher. As he came back, stepping over the
thwarts, he looked at her; her face shone faint
and pallid in the moonlight, and he saw her
shudder. "Why, Mistress," said he, "you are
shivering are you cold ? "
"No; I 'm not cold," said she, in a hoarse;
dry voice. And then, for the first time, Jack
noticed the sparkle of tears upon her cheeks.
Dred was looking at her, and perhaps saw the
tears at the same time.
"Here," said he, suddenly, "put this over-
coat on; 't will make you more comfortable."
She protested feebly, but Dred and Jack per-
sisted. Jack held the coat for her as she
slipped her arms into it.
She felt in her pocket for her handkerchief
and wiped her eyes. Now the boat plunged
swiftly on, the waves, every now and then, clap-
ping against the bow, sending a dash of spray
astern, and the water gurgling away noisily be-
hind. Suddenly Dred turned toward the young
lady again. "You must be tired," said he; "I
know very well you must be tired."
"No, I' m not very tired," said she faintly.
Why, Mistress, I know you must be tired
from the sound of your voice. Here, lad,"-to
Jack,- you take the tiller while I see if I can
make her comfortable." He brought the bun-
dle of clothes and laid it upon the wide seat.
"Now, you lie down there with your head on
that," said he, "and I '11 cover you over."
She obeyed him silently, and he covered her
over with the second overcoat, tucking it in un-
der her feet. I '11 never forget what you 're
doing for me, as long as I live," said she.
"I-" Her lips moved, but she could say
"That 's all very well, Mistress," said Dred,
gruffly; "never you mind that now."
Jack looked long and fixedly at the young
lady's face, pallid in the growing moonlight
which sparkled in her dark eyes. She looked
singularly beautiful in the white light. "Where
be ye going?" called out Dred, suddenly.
" Keep to your course! And then Jack came
back to himself and the things about him with a
start, to find the yawl falling off to the wind.
Then. once more Dred settled himself in his
place, relieving Jack of the tiller. Presently
Dred took out his tobacco-pipe and filled it,
He struck fire with the flint and steel, holding
the tiller under his arm as he did so. Then he
lit his pipe, puffing hard at it for a while.
D' ye see," said Dred, beginning abruptly
with the thoughts in his mind and without any
JACK AND DRED RESCUE ELEANOR--THE START.
preface, "according to what I calculate, they
won't be able to folly us afore to-morrow arter-
noon. D' ye see, they have no boat to go up
to the town to give the alarm; and so they 'll
have to wait for somebody to come down from
the town to them, or else go over to one of the
plantations and borrow a boat. Then they 've
got to get a crew together to man the sloop.
In course, arter they do have her manned
they'll overhaul us fast enough; but if we have
so much start as we 're like to have, why, 't is
like we '11 keep it till we get up into the Sound."
Jack listened, saying nothing. He had been
up the greater part of the night before, and he
had been dozing off every now and then, and
again awakening with a start. Now, as Dred
talked to him he felt himself drowsing with the
sounds coming dimly to his ears. D' ye see,"
said Dred, after puffing away at his pipe for a
while in silence,--and once more Jack aroused
from the doze with a start at the sound of his
voice,- d' ye see, what we '11 have to do '11
be to sail up into Albemarle Sound, past Roa-
noke Island, and so into Currituck Sound. The
waters there be shoal; and even if the sloop
should folly us, we can keep out of her way,
maybe, over the shallows. Old Currituck Inlet
-if it 's anything like I used to know it three
year ago is so as we can get over it at high
tide in the north channel; that is, we can if the
bar ain't closed it yet. The sloop can't folly
through the inlet, 'cause why, she draws too
much water; and if we once get there, d' ye
see, we 're safe enough from them. Contrari-
wise, if they goes down through Ocracock,
thinking we took that way what with running
so far down into the Sound and we having the
gain on 'em of so much start, why, they 'd have
a monstrous poor chance to overhaul us afore
we gets inside of Cape Henry. D' ye under-
stand me, lad ? "
Again Jack had dropped off into a dim sleep.
At the last question he awoke with a start.
"What did you say, Dred ? he asked; "I
did n't hear the' last part of what you said."
Dred looked keenly at him for a while; then
he took the pipe out of his mouth and puffed
out a cloud of smoke. "Well," said he, "it
don't matter, anyways. You be mortal sleepy.
You'd better lay down and go to sleep."
No, I won't, neither," said Jack; and as he
spoke, the young lady moved her hand slightly,
pushing back the hair from her face. The two
looked at her as she lay with her eyes now
closed. They would not have known, except
from the movement of her hand, that she was
not asleep. Dred said nothing more, and they
sailed on in silence. Presently the young lady's
hand fell limp upon the seat beside her. Jack
was looking at her. "She -s off," he whispered,
and Dred nodded his head.
Once more Jack lay down upon the seat,
resting his head upon his arm. Again he be-
gan dozing off, waking every now and then to
find Dred steadily at the helm. At last he fell
fairly asleep, and began dreaming. When he
awoke again, he found the day had broken, al-
though the sun had not yet risen.
They were running down about a quarter of
a mile from the shore. A dark, dense fringe
of pine forest grew close to the water's edge.
The breeze was falling away with the coming
of the day, and the boat was sailing slowly,
hardly careening at all to the wind.
About half a league over the bow of the boat,
Jack could see the wide mouth of a tributary
inlet to the sound. He slid along the seat to-
ward Dred. "What water is that over there?"
"That.'s the mouth of the Pungo," said
Dred. We 're going ashore at the p'int, and
I hope the wind '11 hold to reach it. There 's
a lookout tree there, and I want to get a sight
to see if there 's any sign of a chase. I don't
know as we '11 get there without oars, though,"
he said, "for the wind 's dying down. I tell
you what 't is, lad: you 'd better whistle your
best for a breeze, for just now 't is worth gold
and silver to us, and the furder we get on now,
the safer we -'ll be. D' ye know, I was just
thinking that now they '11 be stirring about at
home to find we 've gone. If we have to lay
all day at the p'int yonder, 't will give -them a
chance to man the sloop and be down on us.
As like as not they '11 be getting a wind afore
we do, if it comes out from the west, as 't is
like to do."
Jack looked over the edge of the boat and
down into the brackish water, clear but brown
with juniper stain. It seemed to him that the
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
yawl barely crept along. At this rate," said
Dred, "we 're not making two knots an hour."
The sun rose round and red over the tops
of the trees, and the breeze grew lighter and
lighter. Every now and then the sail, which
lay almost flat, began to flutter. Presently the
boom swayed inward a little; as it did so, a
level shaft of light fell across the young lady's
face. She moved her hand feebly over her
face; then she opened her eyes. 'Jack and
Dred were looking at her as she did so. First
there was a blank look of awakening in her
eyes, then bewilderment, then a light of dawn-
ing consciousness, and then she sat up sud-
denly. "Where am I ?" said she, looking about
her, dazed and bewildered.
"You 're safe enough so far, Mistress," said
Dred; "and I'm glad you're awake, for we're
to land here."
He laid the bow of the boat for a little cy-
press-tree that stood out beyond the tip of the
point in the water. The shore drew foot by
foot nearer and nearer, and presently they
crawled slowly around the point into a little in-
let or bay, sheltered by the woods that stretched
out like arms on both sides. The bow of the
boat grated upon the sand. "Here we be,"
said Dred, rising as he spoke.
Fronting upon the beach was. a little sand)
bluff three or four feet high, and beyond that
stretched away the pine forest, the trees, their
giant trunks silver-gray with resin, opening long,
level vistas into the woods carpeted with a soft
mat of brown needles. "We '11 all go ashore
here a bit," said Dred. "You come along o' me,
Jack, and we '11 go down to the p'int to the
obserwation tree. Don't you be afraid if we
leave you a little while, Mistress; we '11 be
back afore long. Jack, lend a hand to help her
young ladyship ashore." They spread out one
of the overcoats upon the sand, and made her
as comfortable as they could. "We '11 be back
here in a half-hour," said Dred again. Come
They walked down along the sandy shore for
some little distance, and then cut across a little
narrow neck to the river shore upon the other
side. A great single pine-tree stood towering
above the lower growth. There were cleats
nailed to the trunk. "Here we be," said Dred;
"and now for an obserwation." He laid aside
his coat, and then began ascending the cleats.
Jack watched him as he climbed higher and
higher until he reached the roof-like spread of
branches high overhead. Dred flung one leg
over the topmost cleat, and, leaning his elbow
on the limb, sat looking steadily out toward
the westward. His shirt gleamed white among
the branches against the sky. He remained there
for a long time, and then Jack saw him climb-
ing down again. He brushed his hands smartly
together, and then put on his coat. "Well,"
said Jack, "did you see anything ?"
Why, no," said Dred, I did n't. 'T is a
trifle thick and hazy-like, d' ye see ? But so
far as I could make out, there ain't no chase
in sight yet awhile."
The young girl, when they returned, was
walking up and down the beach.
"I see naught so far, Mistress," said Dred,
when they had come up to her. "So far as
I see, we 're safe from chase."
"You are very good to me," said the young
lady. I was just thinking how kind you are
to me." She looked from one to the other as
she spoke, and her eyes filled with tears. Jack
looked sheepish at the sight of her emotion;
and Dred touched his forehead with his thumb,
with rather an abashed salute. They stood for
a moment as though not quite knowing what
"Well, lad," said Dred, in a loud, almost
boisterous voice, and studiously not looking at
the young lady's tearful eyes, "'t is breakfast
first of all, and then for you to make an ash
breeze if no other don't come up to help us.
Every mile we make now-d' ye see?-is
worth ten furder on."
The smell of cooking ham began to fill the
air, and whetted Jack's wholesome young appe-
tite to a keen edge. Now you can turn the
ham," said Dred, for 't is cooked on one side."
And now," said Dred, briskly, when their
breakfast was over, "'t is time we were away
again. Every minute 's worth a guinea now.
Come, Mistress, get aboard and we '11 push off."
He helped the young lady into the boat, and
then he and Jack pushed it off, Jack running
through the water and then jumping aboard
with a soaking splash of his wet feet.
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
"You 'd better let me row, Dred; you ain't
fit," said Jack, after they had settled themselves
in the boat.
"Well," said Dred, "you can if you choose;
for, to tell the truth, I don't honestly believe I
be able to handle an oar yet awhile."
Give me the oar," said Jack, and he dropped
it into the rowlock.
I '11 lie down a bit," said Dred. "I be
masterful tired, and methinks a trifle of sleep
will freshen me up a deal. You may wake
me when we get across to t' other side of the
Pungo." He stretched himself out on the seat
in the sun, rolling up an overcoat for a pillow,
and spreading the other over him.
"Let me help you," said the young lady.
"Why," said Dred, "'t would never do for
the like of you to wait on me." She did not
answer, but tucked the overcoat around him.
He lay for a while opening and shutting his
bright, narrow, black eyes, in which the sun-
light glinted sparkling. Finally they closed
for a long time, and then, by and by, his
slow, regular breathing showed that he was
"What was the matter with him?" the
young lady whispered to Jack after a while,
as he rested a moment upon the oars.
Fever," answered Jack; "he's been mortal
sick with it, and he 's only just getting over it,"
and then he began rowing again.
She looked long and steadily at the sleeping
face, sallow and colorless with illness; at the
seamed and crooked scar that cut down across
the cheek. "Was he really one of the pirates ?"
she asked presently.
Jack nodded without stopping rowing. Then
he suddenly remembered that Dred was the
very man who had shot and killed Miss Elea-
nor Parker's brother-who had shot and killed
him with his own hand. He ceased rowing
and sat looking at the motionless, sleeping face.
Was it often in Dred's mind ?
A STOP OVERNIGHT.
THE day was settling toward sundown. The
'breeze had sprung up again. There was a bank
of haze in the west through which the sun shone
fainter and fainter as it approached the horizon,
and then was swallowed up and lost. The wind
blew strong and full, driving the water into
ridges that caught up to the yawl as it sailed
free before the breeze, ran past it swiftly, and
left it behind. Dred seemed almost elated.
"This is the wind for luck," said he. "Why, I
do suppose that, giv'n the Captain the best luck
he could have, we 've got a fifteen-league start
on him, and he '11 never make that up. 'T will
blow stiff up from the east'rd to-morrow, like
enough, and a cross sea '11 be ag'in' us beating up
into the head of the Sound, but fifteen leagues
of start means a deal, I can fell ye. And, be-
side, what the Captain 'll most likely do '11 be
to sail straight for Ocracock. It be n't likely,
d' ye see, that he 'd think of running up into
the sounds. He 'd think that we 'd trust to
our lead of distance and strike right for the
open water through Ocracock, and he '11 not
think we '11 try to make through the shoals out
Jack had no notion at all of the geography
of the sounds, but he did understand that while
they were going one way, Blackbeard would
probably be going another.
They had been sailing along in silence for
a while. The gray light grew duller and still
"Do you know," said Dred, suddenly speak-
ing, "there 's a settlement up beyond that
island yonder-or leastwise there was some
houses there three or four years ago. I knowed
a man named Goss then what lived there, and
I 'm going to put in there, d' ye see, and find
out whether he lives there yet awhile. If he
do, I '11 ax him to let us stay overnight. So
we '11 make a stop here if we 're able. Like
enough we '11 make another in Shallowbag Bay,
in Roanoke Island; carter that we '11 make a
straight stretch for Currituck."
As they came nearer to the point, the waters
of a little bay began to open out before them.
It spread wider and wider, and at last they
were clear of the jutting cape. Then Jack saw
the settlement of which Dred had spoken.
"Yonder 't is," said Dred, without turning his
There was a slight rise of cleared land, at the
summit of which perched a group of four or five
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
huts or cabins. They were built of logs and
unpainted boards beaten gray by the weather.
Two of the houses showed some signs of being
inhabited; the others were plainly empty and
deserted and falling to ruin. Near the houses
was a field of Indian corn dried brown by
the autumn season. There were two or three
scrubby patches of sweet potatoes, but there
was no other sign of cultivation.
Dred put down the tiller and drew in the
sheet, and the boat, heeling over to the wind
that now caught her abeam, met the waves
splashing and dashing as it drove forward upon
the other course.' Gradually the trees shut off
the rougher sea, and then the boat sailed more
smoothly 'and easily. Presently a dog began
barking, and then two or three joined in, and
Jack could see the distant hounds, dim in the
twilight gray of the coming evening, running
down from the houses toward the landing. At
the continued noise of their barking, a man
came to the door of one of the frame cabins,
then two or three half-clothed children, and
finally a woman. A young woman stood at
the door of the other cabin with a baby in her
arms, and a young man appeared. The first
man turned and went into his house, the next
moment coming out with a tattered hat upon
his head. He came down toward the landing,
one of the children following him. Two more
of the children walked some distance behind
him and part way down to the boat, and then
stopped and stood looking. A little child re-
mained with the woman at the door of the
The boat drove swiftly nearer and nearer to
the shore. They were close to the beach, and
Jack could see that the man was tall and lean
and sallow, that he had a straggling beard
and a mat of hair plaited behind into a queue.
He was in his shirt-sleeves, and he wore a pair
of baggy breeches tied at the knees. He car-
ried a corn-cob pipe in his mouth. Dred put
the tiller down hard, and the yawl came up into
the wind. She drifted for a moment or two
with fluttering sail, and then the bottom grated
upon the sand. The man stood staring inertly
at them, and the child who had come down
with him stood looking out from behind his
elder. The younger man was coming down
toward the shore. "Hullo, Bill!" said Dred,
"don't you remember me?"
"Why, in course I do," said the other; "'t is
"Well, Bill," said Dred, "what I wants to
know is, will ye take us in for the night ? "
"I don't know," said the man. "Who 've
you got aboard there, Chris? "
"Why," said Dred, "this here 's a young
lady as is sick, and this lad and I be tak-
ing her back to Virginy. She 's of high qual-
ity. I '11 tell ye all. about .that by and by.
The truth is, I 'm just getting over the fever,
and this here young lady, as I said, be sick too.
So I thought maybe you 'd take us in and let
us lodge with you overnight."
The man seemed to ruminate stolidly upon
what Dred had said. I don't know," said he
at last, dully; "we ain't got any too much room
to spare, but you can come up and see the mis-
tress if you choose. If she 's willing, I won't
stand ag'in' it."
"Very well," said Dred, "so I will. You
wait here, Jack, until I come back again. I '11
just go up to the house and see the old wo-
He got up and climbed out of the boat.
Jack and Miss Eleanor Parker sat where they
were, looking after the two as they went away,
side by side, talking together. After a while
Dred came out of the house and down to them.
"'T is all right," said he; "they '11 let us stay
here overnight. Come along, Mistress; I '11
help you out."
Miss Eleanor Parker rose, stiffened with the
long sitting in the boat, supporting herself with
her hand upon the rail. Dred reached out a
hand and helped her out over the thwarts and
to the beach, and Jack followed.
They drew the yawl up on the beach while
the young lady stood waiting for them, and
Dred carried the anchor and bow-line a little
distance further inshore, where he drove the
fluke of the anchor into the sand with his foot.
The three walked up to the house together,
and once more the woman and two or three
children appeared at the doorway.
The house consisted of two small rooms.
There was a fireplace in one of them, and near
it two benches, two or three rickety chairs,
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
and a table. The man was standing by the
fireplace with the empty pipe still in his lips.
"This is the young lady," said Dred to the
woman. "I dare say she 'd like to lie down
in the other room while you 're getting supper.
I '11 fetch up a bag of biscuit and a ham we 've
got down to the boat. You 've got 'taties and
fish, and 't will make a good supper enough for
the lot of us. You lie down, Mistress," said
Dred to Miss Eleanor Parker, "and we '11 be
back again in a trifle. Come along, Jack;
we 've got to trig the boat up a bit afore we
can leave her; for 't is going to rain to-night,
Dred and Jack went out again and down
to the shore, the man following them. The
young man was still there. The two natives
stood indolently by, watching Dred and Jack
as they made all taut, rolling up the sail and
lashing it to the mast.
Dred brought out the ham into which he had
cut in the morning, and a bag of biscuit. Then
the four men went back to the house together.
The woman was making up a blazing fire of
pine-knots, which lighted up the dirty interior
with a broad red glare. Miss Eleanor Parker
was resting in the other room.
"Where did you come from to-day? said
Pungo River," said Dred.
"'T was a pretty good stretch," said the man.
"'T was a good wind you had to bring you
"Aye," said Dred, shortly; it were."
Jack could see that the reaction of weakness
was setting in upon Dred, now that the strain
of the day was relaxed. He had borne up
wonderfully so far.
After they had eaten their supper, Jack
curled himself up on the bench and shut
his eyes. He lay there with his eyes closed,
and presently, in spite of himself, the events of
the day before and the sleepless nights he had
passed began to press upon him, and he drifted
off into broken fragments of sleep through which
he heard the men talking and laughing. At last,
after a while, he opened his eyes to silence. The
fire had burned low, and Dred and the men lay
sleeping on the floor with their feet turned
toward the blaze.
THE SECOND DAY.
THE woman was stirring early in the morn-
ing, and Jack woke with a start. Dred moved
uneasily in his sleep with signs of near awaking.
Jack went to the door. It was still hardly more
than the dawn of day. It had clouded over
during the night and had been raining, as Dred
had predicted. The wind was now blowing
swiftly from the east. The whitecaps were
churning every now and then to a sudden flash
of foam out across the Sound, and he thought
to himself that the day's voyage was likely
to prove rough. Presently Dred joined him.
"'T is likely we '11 have a stiffish day of it,"
said he; "but we '11 have to make the most
of it, let us get ever, so wet. 'T is lucky I
thought of fetching the overcoats." The wo-
man of the house emerged from the out-shed
carrying an armful of sticks. "Hullo, Mis-
tress!" said Dred. "I wish you 'd wake the
young lady and tell her we've got to be going.
Why, it must be well on toward six o'clock
now, allowing for this thick day."
"Won't you stay and take a bite to eat first?"
"Why, no, we.won't," said Dred; "we '11 eat
what we want aboard the boat. We 've got
a good rest, and we 're beholden to ye for it."
He opened his hand, and then Jack saw that
he had a silver piece in it. "I want you to
take this here," said Dred, "for to pay you for
The woman stretched out her lean, bony
hand, took the coin eagerly enough, and slipped
it in her pocket. "I '1l tell her young lady-
ship that you be waiting," said she, with a sud-
den access of deference, and then went back
into the house.
When they reentered the dwelling, the young
lady was ready to start.
The two men and the children went down
to the boat with them. This time the two men
helped Jack and Dred to push it off. You '11
have a windy day outside, like enough," said
"I reckon we will," said Dred.
There was a fine veil of rainlike mist drift-
ing before the wind, and the water lapped and
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
splashed chilly, beating in little breakers upon
the beach. "You 'd better put on this over-
coat, Mistress," said Jack; and he held it for
the young lady as he spoke. Then he helped
her settle herself into the stern. "You.'d better
put on the other overcoat, Dred," said he. "I
can do very well without it."
The people on the shore stood watching
them as the boat heeled over, and then, with
gathering headway, swept swiftly away. There
were no farewells spoken. Jack, looking be-
hind, saw the people standing upon the shore
as it rapidly fell away astern, dimming in the
gray of the misty rain. "About!" called Dred,
sharply; and then the boat, sweeping a curve,
came around upon the other tack. Once more
they came about, and then presently they were
out in the open Sound again. There was a
heavy sea running, and the boat began to pitch
and toss, with every now and then a loud,
thunderous splash of water at the bow, and a
cloud of spray dashed up into the air. A wave
sent a sheet of water into the boat. "I reckon
we '11 have to drop the peak a trifle, Jack,"
said Dred; "she drives too hard."
The young lady, in the first roughness of the
rolling sea, was holding tight to the rail. Jack
stumbled forward across the thwarts, and low-
ered the peak. The water was rushing noisily
past the boat. "'T is a head wind we 've got
for to-day," said Dred, when Jack had come
back into the stern again. "I 'm glad we 've
had a bit of rest afore we started, for we '11
hardly make Roanoke afore nine or ten o'clock
to-night if the wind holds as 't is."
It was after nightfall when they ran in back
of Roanoke Island. The wind had ceased
blowing from the east, and was rapidly falling
away. The water still heaved, troubled with
the blowing of the day.
The young lady had not been feeling well all
day. She lay motionless upon the bench. Jack
had covered her with everything obtainable, and
she lay with her head upon her bundle of
clothes, her face, resting upon the palm of her
hand, just showing beneath the wraps that cov-
ered her. In the afternoon Dred had handed
the tiller over to Jack, who still held it. Dred,
wrapped in one of the overcoats, lay upon the
other bench, perhaps sleeping. The night had
fallen more and more, and now it was really
dark. Jack had sailed the course that Dred
had directed, and by and by he was more and
more certain that he was near the land. At
last he really did see the dim outline of the
shore, and in the lulls of the wind he could
presently hear the loud splashing of the water
upon the beach.
Dred," called Jack, "you 'd better come
and take the helm." Dred roused himself in-
stantly, shuddering with the chill of the night
air as he did so. He looked about him, peer-
ing into the darkness.
"Aye," said he, after a while, "'t is Roanoke,
and that must be Duck Island over yonder,.
t' other way. That 's Broad Creek yonder";
pointing off through the night. "We might
run into it and maybe find some shelter, but
what I wants to do is to make Shallowbag
Bay. There 's an obserwation tree on the
sand-hills there, and I wants to take a look out
to-morrow to see if there 's anything for to be
seen. D' ye see 't is Roanoke Sound we 're
running into? If the sloop follys us at all, 't will
run up the ship-channel Croatan way."
Jack did not at all understand what Dred
meant, but he gave up the tiller to him readily
enough. He went across to where the young
lady lay. How d' ye feel now, Mistress?"
S" Why," said she faintly, opening her eyes as
she spoke, "I feel better than I did."
"Would you like to have a bite to eat now?"
She shook her head, and once more Jack took
his place in the stern.
"There 's another reason why I wants to
make Shallowbag Bay," said Dred. D' ye see,
there's a house there,- or leastwise there used to
be,- and I thought if we could get there it might
make a shelter for the young lady; for she 's
had a rough day of it to-day for sartin."
How far is it ? said Jack.
"Why," said Dred, "no more 'n a matter of
eight mile, I reckon. Here, you hold the tiller,
lad, while I light my pipe."
Maybe an hour or more passed, and then
Dred began, every now and then, to take an
observation, standing up and peering away
into the darkness. The clouds had now all
JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES.
blown away, and the great vault of sky sparkled
all over with stars. All around them the water
spread out dim, restless. They were running
up free, close to the shore. Dred was standing
up in the boat, looking out ahead. "We 're
all right now," said he, after a long time:of
I 've got my bearings now, and know where
I be. The only thing now is that we sha'n't run
aground; for, here and there, there's not enough
water to float a chip." As he ended speaking
he put down the tiller, and the yawl ran in close
around the edge of the point.
He arose and went forward. Jack followed
him, and together they loosened and began
reefing the sail, still wet with the rain and
spray of the day's storm. The young lady did
not move; perhaps she was asleep. Then Dred
returned to the tiller, and Jack took to the oars.
In somewhat less than half an hour Jack had
rowed the heavy boat across the open water.
As he looked over his shoulder he could see
a strip of beach just ahead, drawing nearer and
nearer to them through the night. A minute
more, and the bow of the boat ran grating upon
a sandy shoal, and there stuck fast. Dred
arose, and he and Jack stepped into the shal-
low water. The young lady stirred and roused
herself as they did so. Sit still, Mistress," said
Dred, "and we '11 drag the boat up to the
beach. It seems like there 's a bank made
out here since I was here afore."
Jack and 'bred helped the young lady out
of the boat. She stood upon the damp beach,
wrapped in the overcoat she had worn all day.
As Jack drove the anchor down into the sandy
soil, and made fast the bow-line, Dred opened
the locker and brought out the biscuit and the
ham. Here," said he to Jack, "you carry
these up to the house, and I '11 show the
young lady the way."
Dred led the way for some distance, his feet
rustling harshly through the wiry, sedgy grass;
and by and by Jack made out the dim outline
of the wooden hut looming blackly against the
starry sky. It was quite deserted, and the door-
way gaped darkly. It stood as though toppling
to fall, but the roof was sound, and the floor
within was tolerably dry. At any rate, it was
a protection from the night. As Dred struck
the flint and steel, Jack stripped some planks
from the wall, breaking them into shorter pieces
with his heel; and presently a good fire blazed
and crackled upon the ground before the open
doorway of the hut, lighting up the sedgy,
sandy space of the night for some distance
"Like enough this is the last stop we can
make betwixt here and the inlet," said Dred.
"How far is the inlet from here,.d' ye sup-
pose? asked Jack.
"Why," said Dred, "perhaps a matter of
twenty league or so. We can't expect the wind
to favor us as it has done. We 've got along
mightily well so far, I can tell ye. We 've got
a lead far away ahead of any chase the Cap-
tain can make arter us. I do believe we be
safe enough now; all the same, I 'm going over
to the sand-hills to-mbrrow to take an obser-
wation out astern. They're over in that direc-
tion"; and he pointed with his pipe. "There's
an obserwation tree there that we used to use
three or four year ago, when we was cruising
around here in the sounds."
"Do you know, Dred," said Jack, I believe
you 're the better for coming off with us. You
don't seem near as sick as you did before we
left Bath Town."
"Aye," said Dred; "that 's allus the way with
a sick body. I hain't time for to think how
sick I be."
(To be continued.)
By BRANDER MATTHEWS.
THE little town of Salem in Massachusetts is
memorable chiefly because of the pitiful witch-
craft trials held there two hundred years ago.
One of the judges most active in the task of
convicting the poor creatures then accused of
evil practices was John Hathorne. In Salem
there lived, first and last, six generations of this
family (spelling its name sometimes Hathorne
and sometimes Hawthorne); and in Salem Judge
Hathorne's grandson's grandson was born in
1804 on the Fourth of July-a fitting birthday
for an author so intensely American as Nathan-
iel Hawthorne. Four years after the boy's
birth, his father, a sea-captain, died at Surinam;
and his mother never recovered from the blow
of her husband's death, withdawing herself
wholly from society, and living for forty years
the life of a recluse, even to the extent of taking
her meals apart from her children.
When Nathaniel Hawthorne was eight 6r
nine years old his mother took up her residence
on the banks of Sebago Lake in Maine, where
the family owned a large tract of land. Here
the boy ran wild, fishing and swimming, shoot-
ing and skating -and, on the rainy days, read-
ing. This life in the woods increased the liking
for solitude which he inherited from his mother,
and which in after years he was never able
wholly to overcome. In time he went back to
Salem to prepare for college. JIn 1821, being
then seventeen, he entered Bowdoin, having
Longfellow for a classmate, and making a close
friend of Franklin Pierce, who was in the class
He was graduated in 1825, and he then went
back to Salem. The family was fairly well-to-
do, and it was not needful for Nathaniel to
hurry in choosing a profession. He had al-
ready decided that he wished to be an author,
but authorship offered .little chance of a liveli-
hood. There was not then a single prosper-
ous magazine in the United States. Yet the
"Sketch-Book" and the "Spy," the pioneers
of American literature, had been published not
five years before; and the success of Irving and
of Cooper, and the prompt appreciation with
which their early writings were received both
in America and in England, was encouraging
to other native authors. So the year after he
left college Hawthorne wrote a tale and pub-
lished it at his own expense; but it made no
impression on the public, and very few copies
The tale appeared without its author's name,
and its failure seems to have increased Haw-
thorne's love of solitude. 'For ten years and
more he lived in his mother's house almost as
alone as if he were a hermit in a cave. For
months together he scarcely met any one out-
side of his own family, seldom going out save at
twilight or to take the nearest way to the deso-
late sea-shore. Once a year, or thereabouts (so
he told a friend a long while after), he used to
make an excursion of a few weeks, "in which
I enjoyed as much of life as other people do in
"the whole year's round." Unnatural as this ex-
istence was, Hawthorne kept his health,, and
seldom lost his cheerfulness. He read endlessly
and he wrote unceasingly. These were his
'prentice years of authorship; and in them he
became a master of the craft of writing.
Most of his early attempts at fiction he burned;
but in time his hand became surer, and he
found that he had learned at last the difficult
art of story-telling. His little tales began to
be published here and there in monthlies and in
annuals. Being anonymous, or under differing
signatures, they did not attract attention to the
author; but in the newspaper notices of the pe-
riodicals in which they appeared, they were of-
ten picked out for praise; and this finally en-
couraged Hawthorne to gather a score of them
into a single volume published in 1837 under
the apt title of Twice-Told Tales." Although
ENGRAVED BY T. COLE, AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY MAYALL.
OWNED BY FRANCIS BENNOCH, ESQ., LONDON.
the little book had no remarkable sale, it won
its way steadily; and the readers who had
enjoyed Irving's pleasant sketches of New
York character in Rip Van Winkle and the
" Legend of Sleepy Hollow could not but re-
mark that Hawthorne's pictures of New Eng-
land character re-
vealed a stronger
-imagination and a
deeper insight into
human nature. De-
-lightful as was Irv-
... ing's writing,
had a richer
style and a
-of the art
,,, I of fiction.
HAWTHORNE'S BIRTHPLACE ON UNION STREET, SALEM. ABOVE IS
OF THE ROOM WHERE HAWTHORNE WROTE "TWICE-T
After the publication of this collection of
short stories, Hawthorne ceased to bd what he
once called himself--" the obscurest man of let-
ters in America." His classmate Longfellow,
with whom he had not been intimate in college,
reviewed the book with hearty commendation,
and Hawthorne wrote him that hitherto there
had "been no warmth of approbation, so that I
have always written with benumbed fingers."
Now at last he basked in the sunshine of public
approval, and he was encouraged to go on with
his writing. Yet it was five years before his
next book was issued, and even then the new
volume was only a second series of "Twice-
Told Tales," collected from the periodicals.
But meanwhile he had come out into the
world again, and mixed once more with his fel-
low-men. He had edited a magazine for a few
months; he had held a place for two years in
the Boston custom-house; he had been one of
those who formed a settlement at Brook Farm;
and he had married Miss Sophia Peabody.
The marriage took place in 1842, and the
young couple moved to Concord. They went
to live in the house which had been built for
Emerson's grandfather, and in which Emerson
himself had dwelt ten years before. Haw-
thorne took for his study the room in this old
manse in which Emerson had written Na-
ture "; and in that room, during the next few
years, he wrote stories and sketches which were
collected into the two vol-
umes published in 1846 as
"Mosses from an Old
These tales are like those
in Hawthorne's earlier col-
lections, but they are unlike
any stories ever written any-
where else by anybody else.
They are strangely interest-
ing, all of them; they are
novel, varied, and ingenious;
they are full of fancy; and
they have often an- allegory
hidden within, and a pro-
found moral also, never ob-
truded, but to be found easily
SSHOWN TE WINDOW by all who take the trouble
OLD TAKES "
to seek it. Here may be
the best place to note that these same quali-
ties, ripened, perhaps, and enriched by experi-
ence, are to be found again in Hawthorne's
final collection of tales made six years later,
and called, after the first of them, "The Snow
Hawthorne was happier in these years of
manhood than he had been in his youth. It
might almost be said that his marriage was the
making of him; for that had brought him back
into the world before it was too late--before
the doors of solitude were closed behind him
forever. Yet these early years of wedded life
were a time of struggle; for he had lost money,
and had little to live on. Knowing his need
of an assured income to bring up his young
family, some of his friends in 1846 secured his
appointment as surveyor of the port of Salem,
the town where he had been born about forty
years before. He remained in the custom-
house for three years, with increasing dislike
for the work; and then he was removed.
When he went home one day, earlier than
usual, and told his wife that he had lost his
of tales, while this was to be a story long
enough to stand by itself. A broader experi-
ence is needed to compose a full-grown novel
than to sketch a short story, and the great
novelists have often essayed their first elaborate
fictions when no longer young. Scott was more
than forty when he published the first of the
Waverley novels; Thackeray was not far from
forty when "Vanity Fair" was finished; George
Eliot was almost forty when "Adam Bede"
appeared; and Hawthorne was forty-six when
he sent forth "The Scarlet Letter" in 1850.
* "- r*
THE OLD MANSE, CONCORD.
place, she exclaimed: Oh, then you can write
your book! And when he asked what they
were to live on while he was writing this book,.
she showed him the money she had been saving
up, week by week, out of their household ex-
penses. That very afternoon he sat down and
began to write the more serious work of fiction
he had longed for leisure to attempt. It was
really the first book he had written since the
forgotten and unknown romance: the other
volumes he had published were but collections
With the striking exception of Uncle Tom's
Cabin," no American work of fiction has had
the quick and lasting popularity of The Scar-
let Letter": and while Mrs. Stowe's story owed
much of its success to the public interest in
the slavery question, Hawthorne's romance
had no such outside aid. Hawthorne's study
of the Puritan life in New England is superior
to Mrs. Stowe's novel. It is a masterpiece of
narrative, every incident being so aptly chosen,
so skilfully prepared, so well placed, that it
seems a necessary result of the situation. Since
"The Scarlet Letter" was written nearly half
a century has passed, and many books highly
praised when it was first published are now left
unread:; but Hathn!,,, e's
great st,:,ry sht.n,:dc t.-,-day
higher tihan ever bce-lbre
in the r_-teem .:,f those
Ss- best fitted to judge.
The author thought that the romance was too
somber, and he relieved it with a humorous
sketch of his life in the Salem custom-house.
The reading public gave the book so hearty a
welcome that Hawthorne was warmed out of
his chilly solitude. For the first time he tasted
popularity, and it did him good. He moved
to Lenox, and there he wrote a second long
story, less solemn than the first, brisker and
brighter, and yet not without the same solid
and serious merits. The House of the Seven
Gables was published in 1851. It is rather a
romance than a novel; and in it the author al-
lowed his humor more play than had been
becoming in "The Scarlet Letter." Like that,
the new story was a study of the life the au-
thor best knew. How well he knew it may
be judged from Lowell's declaration that The
House of the Seven Gables is "the most valu-
able contribution to New England history that
has yet been made."
A true historian Hawthorne might be in his
understanding of the conditions of life in the
old colony days, and of the feelings of the men
and women who then walked the streets of Sa-
lem; but a story-teller he was above all else-
a teller of tales to whom every lover of litera-
ture could not but listen eagerly. And in the
next volume he made ready for the press he
presented himself simply as a teller of tales.
"The Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys," written
in the same year as The House of the Seven
Gables," is the book which has most endeared
Hawthorne to American children, who have
been charmed with the ease and the grace with
which he set forth anew the. marvelous myths
of antiquity. In "The Wonder-Book" he re-
told the legends of The Gorgon's Head and
"The Three Golden Apples" and "The Chi-
mmra"; and in "Tanglewood Tales (which was
published two or three years later, but which
may be considered as a second volume of "The
Wonder-Book") he described the adventures
of those who went forth to seek The Golden
Fleece," and to explore the labyrinth of "The
Minotaur," and to sow "The Dragon's Teeth."
His next story for grown-up people was
called "The Blithedale Romance," and it was
published in 1852. It was derived more or less
Women." This house he called "The Way-
side," and it was the home of the family until
Hawthorne's death. But they did not live in
it long at first. One of the candidates for the
Presidency of the United States was Haw-
closely from the memory of his own experiences
a few years before at Brook Farm, where a lit-
tle group of reformers and men of letters, led
astray for a moment by some of the notions of
the time, sought to simplify their lives by doing
themselves the rough work of a New England
farm. The most valuable result of this experi-
ment is perhaps Hawthorne's story; and that
story is generally held to be the least interest-
ing and the least satisfactory of all that Haw-
thorne wrote. Here, indeed, was the instance
where he was not fortunate in his choice of a
In the year The Blithedale Romance was
published Hawthorne went back once more to
Concord; and there he bought the house of
Mr. Alcott, the father of the author of Little
thorne's college friend, Franklin Pierce, for
whom he prepared a campaign biography -
just as Mr. Howells wrote the life of Hayes
in 1876. When Pierce became President, the
next March, he appointed Hawthorne consul
to Liverpool, England, one of the best-paid
offices under the government. Hawthorne
lived in England four years; and then made
a journey to France, Switzerland, and Italy,
lingering in Rome long enough to gather ma-
terials for a new story, and returning in 1859 to
England to write it.
This new story, published early in 1860, was
"The Marble Faun, a Romance of Monte
Beni" (known in England as "Transformation,"
because the British publisher chose to change
the title). It was a tale of life in Italy. The
beauty of the story is felt by all readers, and its
power cannot be denied. But the book abounds
in shadowy suggestions; and some of its out-
lines are so misty that we are still a little in
doubt as to what did happen to all the char-
acters. Never before had Hawthorne been
more skilfully mysterious; and never before
had the magic of his manner been more charm-
ing to his readers. Perhaps the vagueness of
this story was the result of its scene being laid
upon a foreign soil, whereon Hawthorne did
not feel himself absolutely at home; at the very
time he was planning "The Marble Faun" he
recorded in his note-book that "it needs the
native air to give life a reality." Despite its
hazily hinted plot, "The Marble Faun" is cher-
ished by Hawthorne's admirers as second only
to "The Scarlet Letter." And, as it happened,
it was the last of his romances he was to live
long enough to complete.
In 1860 Hawthorne returned to his native
air, settling down in The Wayside at Concord.
He planted trees, laid out walks, enlarged the
house, and made himself at home. He had a
theme for a new romance; and this he sketched
out two or three times, and differently every
time, but never to his own satisfaction.
Failing to get the strange subject of this pro-
posed tale into the perfect form he sought,
Hawthorne turned from it for a while. He
had'always kept a journal, writing in it freely
when the mood was on him, setting down sug-
gestions for stories, recording visits and con-
versations, and describing people and places.
From this storehouse he now selected passages
concerning England and the English, and these
he wove into a series of delightful chapters,
gathering them together at last in a book pub-
lished in 1863. The title which Hawthorne
gave to these collected papers was Our Old
Home "-an evidence of the kindly and fra-
ternal feeling of Americans toward the elder
branch of the race. This same gentle liking
inspired the English pages of Irving's "Sketch-
Book"; and it also controlled the criticism in
Emerson's acute "English Traits."
After the publication of this volume of de-
scriptive papers, Hawthorne returned to his
story, and finally managed to write the earlier
chapters of "The Dolliver Romance." But
his health was failing fast, and he was not able
to finish what he had begun. He made sev-
eral little journeys in search of relief; and it
was on one of these, a trip to the White Moun-
tains with Pierce, that he died. His death
took place at Plymouth, a little before mid-
night on May 18, 1864; and on the twenty-
third he was buried at Concord in the ceme-
tery called "Sleepy Hollow."
Emerson and Longfellow, Lowell and Whit-
tier, were at the funeral. Longfellow wrote in
his diary: It was a lovely day; the village all
sunshine and blossoms and the song of birds.
You cannot imagine anything at once more sad'
and beautiful. He is buried on a hilltop under
And this funeral of his classmate suggested to
Longfellow one of his most tender poems:
SNow I look back, and meadow, manse and stream,
Dimly my thought defines;
I only see-a dream within a dream-
The hilltop hearsed with pines.
There in seclusion and remote from men
The wizard hand lies cold,
Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen,
And left the tale half told.
At intervals since Hawthorne's death all the
writings he left behind him have been pub-
lished, one after another-his private letters,
the note-books he kept irregularly in America
and in Europe, and the several efforts he made
to shape the story he finally left unfinished
when he died. But the publication of these
things never intended for the public has not in-
terfered with his fame; though they did not
add to it, they did not detract from it. They
took us in some measure into his workshop,
but they could not reveal the secret of his art:
that died with him. They showed that his
English was always pure and clear, and that
his style was always simple and noble. They
revealed little or nothing of real value for an
estimate of the author, though they served to
confirm the belief that he brooded long over
his tales and his romances, shaping each to the
inward moral it was to declare silently, and
perfecting each slowly until it had attained in
every detail the clearness and the symmetry
which should satisfy his own most exacting taste.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 391
Many have marveled that Hawthorne should
have been able to write romances here in this
new country of ours, which seems to lack all
that others have considered needful for ro-
mance; but to a seer of his insight this was no
Hawthorne was able to find romance not in
external trappings and picturesque fancy cos-
tumes, but deep down in the soul of man him-
self. Beside this power of entering into the
recesses of the human heart, he had not only a
vigorous imagination, not only great ingenuity in
inventing incident, not only the gift of the story-
telling faculty in a high degree, but also a pro-
found respect for the art of narrative; and these
qualities all combined to make him beyond all
question the most accomplished and complete
artist in fiction whom America has yet produced.
BY FREDERICK B. OPPER.
-r l" ':
I LOVE my little brother:
He 's a cunning, rosy elf;
But I wish-somehow or other-
That he could rock himself!
THREE FRESHMEN: RUTH, FRAN, AND NATHALIE.
BY JESSIE M. ANDERSON.
"FRANCES PRANCED TO AND FRO, CHANTING THE FIRST SENTENCES OF A LECTURE IN COMICAL IMITATION OF THE LATIN
PROFESSOR." (SEE PAGE 396.)
[Begun in the January number.] went very quickly, and Thanksgiving Day came
CHAPTER VII. on wings, bringing the first recess from work.
Cousin Will was on hand Tuesday night,
IN THE CLASS-ROOM. ready to take Ruth home for the three days'
THE first month, with its fullness of new vacation. The other Boffins were to stay at
experiences, had seemed long to the Boffins, the Bower, and comfort themselves with a
as do the full years, rich in novelty, of early grand "spread" from the contents of Fran's
youth. But November, settling into routine, box from home.
THREE FRESHMEN: RUTH, FRAN, AND NATHALIE.
Tuesday evening was divided between the
bowling-alley and Music Hall, where Ruth took
Will to a 'cello recital from nine to ten. Upon
his teasingly remarking that he could n't see
anything but fun in a girls' college, Ruth said
he must go into at least one recitation and see
some work. Accordingly, ten o'clock of Wed-
nesday morning found all three Boffins escort-
ing Mr. Chittenden into "Freshman Rhetoric,"
which he had chosen in preference to Greek or
After calling the roll very rapidly, so that the
responsive Presents! tumbled over one ano-
ther, and only a most nimble brain could have
fastened them-to the right names, Miss Folsom
opened the recitation by saying:
Our lesson to-day is to begin with a certain
trick that we found in some poets, of leaving
an incomplete verse in the middle of a stanza,
for a definite rhetorical effect."
A voice from the second row: Miss Folsom,
is it fair to call it a trick ?"
Miss Folsom, directing her keen glance to-
ward a tall, sprightly-looking girl with a straight,
uncompromising red bang, asks in turn: "What
is your objection to the word, Miss Brown?"
"I think the word trick suggests something
unworthy. The device we are talking about
need not be unworthy; it may be a perfectly
-allowable bit of rhetoric."
"A very fair point," answers Miss Folsom,
with the impersonal candor which makes her
class-room a delight. "The word trick, con-
nected with the Old French tricker, does seem
to imply dishonesty of purpose; though there
is the innocent meaning of it in the expression,
a trick of speech, or countenance.' Shall we
say, then, design, expedient, artifice "
It is artifice, surely."
"And what illustration of it did you find, Miss
"A sonnet by Keats. The latter part of it reads:
"And other spirits there are standing apart
Upon the forehead of the age to come;
These, these will give the world another heart,
And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum
Of mighty workings ?-
Listen awhile, ye nations, and be dumb."
This seems a very strong use of a pause in the
measure to suggest a real pause in the action -
to 'listen awhile, and be dumb.' The halt in
the verse certainly calls a halt in the reader's
"An excellent example,- Miss Carey!"
"I brought in an extract from Browning,-
The Pied Piper of Hamelin .
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles."
Here the pause in the meter throws a whole
verse-worth of emphasis on the word Rats.
The mind unconsciously dwells on that one
syllable long enough to fill out the meter."
"Yes, that is good.-Miss Townsend, your
topic, I believe, was change of meter in the
same poem for special effects."
"I have Dryden's Alexander's -Feast as illus-
tration," responded Frances; and then she re-
peated a number of the lines from that poem,
explaining the measures.
Some discussion followed about other poems;
and the latter half of the hour was given to a
lecture on English imitations of old forms of
verse. Then the college clock gave out eleven
slow strokes, and the class was dismissed.
The next time the clock had occasion to
strike eleven, Fran and Nathalie were prepar-
ing for Thanksgiving Day by slyly nibbling at
various goodies just unpacked from a huge
wooden box which still stood in the middle of
the floor. It was the only night, except the
evening of the sophomore reception, that the
Bower lights had not been "extinguished by
ten o'clock," in accordance with the order on
a slip of paper inside the closet door.
Ruth, at home, had the same sense of retir-
ing bells temporarily suspended while she sat
in the same easy-chair where we first saw her,
talking to Cousin Will after all the others had
gone to bed.
She has turned out well. That was a funny
letter !" mused Ruth, retrospectively.
"She 's a mighty entertaining girl," was
Will's hearty answer.
RUTH had promised to persuade Will Chit-
tenden to return to Northampton with her,
THREE FRESHMEN: RUTH, FRAN, AND NATHALIE.
prepared to stay over Monday night, and go
to the "T. Q."
"And what is the T. Q.'? he asked, with
a fine indifference.
"Why, it is the Hubbard House Society for
getting up entertainments once in two weeks,-
the Tertium Quid in lawyer's phrase, or Third
Unknown. Fran is the first freshman that
.has ever been chosen president of it, so you
must be sure to come and give us some ap-
plause-masculine applause. She has written
something original for this; she has not told
even me what it is. She and two Juniors are
in the secret. Fran won't act a bit, herself, but
she can write the brightest little plays!"
And this was how it happened that Fran
and Nathalie and Ruth and Will Chittenden
sat in Row No. 4" of chairs in the Hubbard
House.parlor, when the sliding doors opened and
showed the "two Juniors" of whom Ruth had
spoken. They were sitting on an improvised
platform in the little reception-room adjoining.
The audience soon learned that the little play
was a parody on the dialogues" Socrates
inflicted upon the Athenians as Plato has
reported them for later generations, and as the
girls read them in the Greek class.
One of the actors, called "Thrasymachus,"
with her "himation," or outer robe, carefully
draped from her left shoulder over a beautifully
embroidered chitonn," or tunic, turned to the
other, who was wrapped in a tunic ill arranged
and dingy, and said pompously:
"0 Socrates, I have come hither to-day to
confute you in a matter about which I hear
that you have a wrong opinion."
And then the dialogue went on as follows:
Socr. And what is that, Thrasymachus?
Thras. The Ten O'clock Retiring Law, So-
crates. I hear that you say that this law is
both unjust and base.
Socr. IlJvo p.iv o-v (Exactly so!)
Thras. And I do assert the very opposite of
Socr. In order that we may the more
clearly understand this matter, Thrasymachus,
let us consider the definition of a law. Is that
a law, where the Many, meeting together, de-
cide what is just and right ?
Thras. Yes, most assuredly!
Socr. And is that a law which the Few, not
consulting the Many, but being in power over
them, do meet together and decree ?
Thras. No, Socrates, that is not law, but
injustice and tyranny.
Socr. Did the Many,-that is, the Students,-
meeting together, decide this law to be just
and right ? Or did the Few,-that is, the fac-
ulty,-being for the time in power over them,
decree this, not persuading but coercing the
Thras. 0 Socrates, I believe they did not
consult the Many, for I remember that the
Law was written inside our closet doors when
Socr. In order that I and these here may
more clearly understand the matter, take the
Bill and read it!
(Much laughter from the audience, as a large
pasteboard placard is lifted up, with huge letters
done in shoe-blacking.)
ALL LIGHTS TO BE EXTINGUISHED
AT TEN O'CLOCK.
Socr.: Let us then, Thrasymachus,-having
proved this law no law, but tyranny and oppres-
sion,-let us proceed to question its Method.
This clearly divides itself into two parts.
Thras. How so, Socrates ?
Socr. Have we not the method of obeying
a law, and the method of causing it to be
Thias. In6.vo p.v oiv! (Exactly so!)
Socr. First, then, as to the method of obey-
ing this rule.
Thras. Surely, there is no difficulty here.
Putting out the light is putting out the light,
and going to bed is going to bed.
Socr. Then turning out the light is not
turning it very low and veiling the transom
with a heavy cloth? And going to bed is not
putting one's hair into curl-papers, and going
down the hall to say good night to one's
Thras. Assuredly not!
Socr. But this method gives to the Ruler
the desired darkness through which to carry
her candle ? And is not the dark transom the
sign of the occupant of the room being in bed?
THREE FRESHMEN: RUTH, FRAN, AND NATHALIE.
Thras. It would seem so, Socrates.
Socr. And the sign is proof of the condition?
Thras. Oh, yes! for we have learned that in
-Whately's "Elements of Logic."
Socr. Then, with regard to causing the rule
to be obeyed. How are the offenders pun-
Thras. By kissing them good night. For the
matron, upon seeing a bright light over any
door, gently knocks upon that door, and with
tender admonition imprints a kiss upon the
offender's forehead, saying, "Good night, dear,"
and passing by the door of the law-abiding.
Socr. Then do you riot see, Thrasymachus,
that you have proved this "law" to be both
contradiction and injustice; in that turning out
the light is found to be not turning out the
light, and going to bed is found to be not
going to bed; and in that the offenders .are
rewarded more than the law-abiding?
Thras. It does seem so, Socrates. And yet
you are always saying that which I do not
believe, and compelling my assent by crafty
Socr. We will then test this law by its ef-
fect. Is that man a good herder of cattle,
who, on their being left in his charge, makes
them ugly and useless, or more beautiful and
Thras. Beautiful and useful, assuredly.
Socr. And is that stylograph a good stylo-
graph which leaves the paper and fingers neat
and beautiful, or inky and ugly?
Thras. Neat and beautiful, and not inky and
Socr. Is the gas more useful and beautiful
when it is "extinguished," or when it is shed-
ding light about the room ?
Thras. When it is shedding light, no doubt.
Socr. And do the girls become more or less'
beautiful upon proceeding to comply with the
Ten O'clock Rule?
Thras. Surely, less beautiful. For now I
do remember that they do their front hair up
in scraps of waste paper.
Socr. Then do you not see, Thrasymachus,
that in coming here to confute me on a thing
about which you know nothing, you have com-
mitted that worst of all errors, that of thinking
yourself to be something when you are nothing?
Thras. I cannot answer you in this, Soc-
rates; for you are skilled in making the worse
appear the better reason. Yet I do still be-
lieve the Ten O'clock Rule to be, not injustice
and tyranny, but justice and truth !
The folding-doors slid together again, with
much laughing and clapping from the girls
and such of the faculty as Fran had inveigled
into being present. But the audience soon
scattered,-for there was much studying for
the morrow yet to be done,-and the parlor
was left to the Boffins.
"That was a clever thing," said Will Chit-
tenden to Fran, admiringly, but shyly for so
self-possessed a youth.
"Oh, I often think," Fran answered, how
strictly collegiate a flavor creeps in even to our
fun here. There is an irresistible humor about it
to ourselves; but it is not, I should think, very
entertaining to outsiders."
"I am not enough of an outsider to miss
the humor," said Will, a little piqued. "It is
not so many moons since I was 'doing' The
Republic myself. Not so far from us does
the sun yoke his steeds!'"
"Forgive me," laughed Fran. "My cousin
Gerald, who was graduated from Harvard only
last June, always talks as if undergraduate days
lay in the dim past of childhood!"
"Oh, was Gerald Townsend your cousin?
Know him well--saw him at the club last
Fran answered warmly: "Indeed, that makes
us old friends. Gerald and his brother have
been my chums at mud-pie making, and ever
since that era."
A common acquaintanceship discovered al-
ways seems to form a bond quite out of pro-
portion to its importance; and Will Chittenden
was almost a Boffin by the time the clock
sounded the solitary note which stood for half-
past nine, and reminded them of the Injustice
and Tyranny of Ten O'clock.
Will Chittenden walked reluctantly down
Main street to his hotel with the steps of Shak-
spere's lagging school-boy; for he hated the
thought of getting up early for the morning
train, and, some way, he was in no hurry to go
back to Boston.
THREE FRESHMEN: RUTH, FRAN, AND NATHALIE.
All's well that ends well.
IT is not much fun to go home for the holi-
days with a "condition" hanging over one's
head; so, in spite of ten o'clock rules, supple-
mented by impromptu laws. about not getting
up before daylight, and in bold contradiction
of the president's statements that only those
students who had been careless through the
term had to spend any unusual amount of time
in preparation for examinations, a very consid-
erable amount of hard study was done by
everybody in that middle week of December
preceding the close of the fall term.
Boffins' Bower was as lively as ever; but its
spreads and sewing-bees were turned into what
Frances named "cramming teas." 'Upon,the
door outside hung the ominous Pompeian mo-
saic warning, "CAVE CANEM! Inside, Frances
pranced to and fro, chanting the first sentences
of a lecture in such comical imitation of the
Latin professor that the laughing freshmen,
assembled to the number of nine, remembered
the very wording for years. Every one with a
sense for humor knows how it aids the memory.
"The great men: of every age: are formed
and developed: by the influences at work: in
society at large.
Hence, to Study: any author: we must first
consider: the. characteristics of the age: in
which he lived: as an introduction: or, more
properly, a key: to what he has done.
The peculiar characteristics: of the Augus-
tan age: are seven: which we shall discuss: in
due order: as influencing the development: of
our great historian: LIVY."
"I thought you said you could n't act, Ma,"
said Pa Boffin, reproachfully.
That, my dear, was because I did not wish
to take part in that particular 'T. Q.'!"
Oh, if you-all would only stop making such
a racket! wailed Nathalie. I must go over
this Greek! Up rose the much-enduring
Odysseus, fertile in resources "
"And ate a gingersnap in order to keep the
blood from settling entirely in his brain," fin-
ished Fran, cramming a whole "snap" into
Nathalie's unresisting mouth.
Now we have lost quite time enough,
surely! expostulated Ruth. Greek exam.
comes at nine on Monday, and I mean to
go over the entire first book this afternoon and
Fran good-humoredly assented, and every-
body else agreed;. and they all settled down
to hard work, reading, in turn, fifty lines
The non-Hubbardites had to go home by
half-past nine; but the Boffins were winding
up the last lines in triumph before the stroke
(To be continued.)
A POLITE OWL.
By D. H. C. STONE.
THE owl made a bow
As I passed where she sat,-
A very small owl,-
She bowed this way and that,
So I lifted my hat.
Did she just bob her head
When the sun hurt her eyes?
So my grandfather said.
But she looked very wise
For an owl of her size.
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
By ALBERT STEARNS.
[Begun in i/e December number. ]
FOUR of the Academy boys Scotty Jones,
Fred Tobin, Will Bent, and Nat Marston-were
approaching Chadwick's Acre on their way to
Simms's pond. Suddenly Will called out, "My
gracious, fellows and came to an abrupt stand-
still, his hands uplifted, his mouth wide open, an
expression of the utmost amazement on his face.
"What's the matter with you ?" demanded
Scotty. Have n't forgot to bring bait, as you
did last time, have you ? 'Cause if you have,
you '11 have to dig for 'em; for we have n't
any more thalf we need, have we, fellows?"
It's-it's gone gasped Will, whose face
had grown strangely pale. Did you see it ? '
See what ? cried Nat.
"Why, right over there I saw it just as
plainly as I see you- was a building," said Will.
"Where ? chorused his companions.
Right over on Chadwick's Acre. It was
made of marble, and it was as big as the Fifth
Avenue Hotel in New York, and four times
as handsome. I saw lots of people moving
round in it, too. And now it 's gone!"
"See here, Will Bent," said Scotty, who was
inclined to be slangy when he thought the occa-
sion demanded it, what are you giving us ? "
"It 's true, I tell you!" shouted Will, ex-
citedly. There 's no mistake about it. But
I 'd hardly caught sight of it when it melted
away, just like those dissolving views they had
at the Methodist church last week, only quicker.
Where were your eyes, fellows ?"
The boys acknowledged that they had been
looking at a dark cloud that had come up in
the west, and speculating as to the probability
of rain; but they- quite naturally- treated
Will's story with derision.
"There 's no trick about it," said Will, with
intense earnestness.. "I did see the building
right over there. And just as it disappeared I
thought I saw something or somebody fall over
by that big rock; it looked like a man's body."
"Jingo!" exclaimed Scotty, "there is some-
body lying over there!"
"There 's somebody lying over here, too, I
think," said the skeptical Nat; but he followed
his companions, who had started at a run for
the rock near the center of Chadwick's Acre.
Scotty was the first to reach the rock.
"It 's Chris!" he cried, bending over the
prostrate body of his chum, and shaking it. ener-
getically. "That '11 do now," he continued,
shouting in the boy's ear; "it 's no use playing
possum with us."
"Let him alone," said Nat; "don't you see
there 's something the matter with him ? Maybe
he 's had a fit. He is n't dead, is he ? "
Scotty looked up, with a white face, saying:
"I don't know but he is, fellows."
"No, he is n't, either," said Will, who had
placed his hand over Chris's heart; "but I
should n't wonder if lie was badly hurt. Did n't
I tell you I saw him fall ? "
"What has he got in his hand ? asked Nat.
"It looks like a lamp."
"It is a lamp," returned Scotty; "it 's the
same one that Professor Thwacker took away
from him yesterday. I wonder why he lugs
that round with him."
"Never mind about that," said the practical
Will. "What we 've got to do now is to take
"That 's so," said Nat. "Scotty, you run
ahead and prepare his folks. His mother is
very nervous, and if she saw us bringing him
home, and did n't know anything about it be-
forehand, she might faint."
"All right," responded Scotty, and he bounded
away like an antelope.
It is to be feared that he did not use a great
deal of tact in breaking the news to Mrs. Wag-
staff; for he had scarcely uttered a dozen words
when the good lady fell to the floor, as if"-
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
as Huldah put it in describing the event to Jed
Beardsley that evening-" she 'd been hit with
When she recovered consciousness, Chris was
bending over her, his face nearly as white as
Don't be frightened, mother," he said, kiss-
ing her tenderly; "I 'm all right. Scotty thought
I was badly hurt, but I 'm not."
'I SHOULD N'T WONDER IF HE WAS BADLY HURT,'
Oh, Chris!" cried Mrs. Wagstaff, folding
him tightly in her arms, are you sure you
are n't ?"
"Of course I am. Ouch! don't squeeze so
hard, mother; you hurt my side."
"You are hurt, Chris! .cried the poor lady.
" Oh, tell me how it happened "
Here Doctor Ingalls, who had been sum-
moned by the badly frightened Scotty, and who,
assisted by that youth, had placed Mrs. Wag-
staff upon the sofa, saw fit to assert himself.
You must n't allow yourself to become ex-
cited; you really must n't, ma'am. There are
no bones broken, I can assure you of that. Chris
has had a fall, but has escaped very luckily, as
it seems to me. Now then, young gentlemen,"
-turning to the
four boys, who
-^ ,. I were huddled in
the doorway, each
I tone looking as if
he felt himself per-
for the accident,-
perhaps you will
/ explain how this
I always knew
you would lead
Chris into some
Trouble, with all
your pranks, Scott
h I Jones," wailed
%l, e "" "I did n't do
it, ma'am," sput-
tered Scotty, al-
S most tearfully. "I was with the
.h' other fellows going to Simms's pond,
and found him lying on the ground down
at Chadwick's Acre."
And we picked him up," broke in Nat,
"after we 'd sent Scotty. on ahead to tell you;
and we were going to carry him home, but he
came to, just as we got to the sawmill, and
he walked the rest of the way. I guess he is n't
hurt much, Mrs. Wagstaff."
"So, Chris, you have fits of dizziness occa-
sionally, eh ?" said Doctor Ingalls.
Never had anything of the sort in my life,
doctor," replied Chris, promptly.
"Then how did you happen to fall? "
"I--I can't tell exactly, doctor," hesitated
the boy, who was not ready to enter into ex-
planations yet. "It was so -so sudden that
I don't entirely understand it myself."
Exactly; an attack of vertigo, beyond the
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
shadow of a doubt," said the doctor, very de-
cidedly. "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. Wagstaff;
we 'll have Chris all right in no time. This
is no more than I expected. I will make an
examination to ascertain the exact nature of
his injuries," continued Doctor Ingalls. "Step
into the next room with me, Chris."
The boy followed him. When they returned,
a few minutes later, the physician's face wore
a puzzled look.
His injuries are not serious," he said; "but
I cannot account for the presence of so many
severe contusions on his right side and arm,
except by the supposition that he fell from
some considerable height."
"So he did," began Will; but he stopped
abruptly at a warning glance from Chris, and
added, as the doctor fixed a piercing glance
upon him, at least, that's what I thought, too."
"I think I understand this business," said
Doctor Ingalls, addressing himself to Mrs.
Wagstaff. "It is merely a boyish escapade,
in which, I imagine, one of Squire Davis's apple-
trees figured prominently. Boys who are sub-
ject to vertigo should keep off the branches of
trees. Come, now, young gentlemen," turn-
ing to the boys,-" don't you think you 'd
come a little nearer to the truth if you laid the
scene of the accident not far from the squire's
orchard ? "
The old gentleman's face wore a good-hu-
mored smile as he put this question; he had
been a boy himself once, and that period of
his life did not seem so distant as it does to
some old people. But he was disappointed at
what he considered the utter lack of respon-
siveness in the youthful quartet; the four boys
began to protest with great earnestness their
entire innocence of the implied charge. He
cut them short with:
"There, there, never mind! However the af-
fair occurred, it 's over now, and Chris has had
a lucky escape, in my opinion. Be off with you
now, and try to keep out of mischief the rest of
"Yes, do go," added Mrs. Wagstaff; "and
as for you, Scott Jones, I wish you would never
speak to Chris again."
The boys filed out, poor Scotty at their head,
all looking very sheepish and crestfallen.
Chris may as well go, too," said the doctor.
"I 'd like a few words in private with you, Mrs.
So Chris started after the boys, and overtook
them just as they reached the road.
"Say, Will," he whispered in the ear of that
youth, I want to speak with you a moment."
Together the two boys walked slowly back
toward the house, and Chris asked:
"What did you mean when you told the doc-
tor that I fell from a height? "
Meant just that," replied Will, laconically.
"But what did you see? Why did you
"I don't know what I saw," broke in Will.
"I can't understand it at all; but I thought I
saw a big marble building standing on Chad-
wick's Acre. It disappeared like a flash, and
then I thought I saw you falling."
Did any of the other fellows see it ? asked
No; and they would n't believe me when I
told them about it."
"Let them think you were trying to play
a trick on them," said Chris; "and don't say a
word about it to any one."
"But what does it all mean ? asked Will.
"I can't explain now," replied Chris, ear-
nestly; but you '11 know all about it very soon,
to-morrow, maybe,- and you 'll say it 's the
biggest thing you ever heard of in your life.
But I can't stop any longer; mother 's calling
me. Now remember, not a word! "
He darted away, and Will ran on to rejoin
the other boys.
Mrs. Wagstaff and Doctor Ingalls stood in
the doorway when Chris reached the house,
and the former said:
Chris, the doctor says you must go out of
town right away."
What for ? asked the boy, rather blankly.
"You have been far from well of late. You
need an entire change of scene, my lad, and you
are going to have it," said Doctor Ingalls.
How would you like to go and see your
Cousin Robert?" asked Mrs. Wagstaff.
I 'd just as lief stay at home," replied Chris.
"Why, only last week you begged me to let
you go and spend a few days with him !" ex-
claimed the anxious mother.
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
Ys, I know it; but you said I'd get too far
behind with my studies, and I guess I should.
I think I 'd better wait till Christmas."
"There will be no school for. you for the
present," said the physician, very decidedly.
"You have -been working too hard of late."
"Biut-" began the boy.
"It 's no use objecting," interrupted Doctor
Ingalls, smilingly. "'All work and no play'
- you know the rest, Chris. You '11 have to
take a vacation."
"Well, if I must go, I must," said Chris, re-
signedly. "When shall I start ?"
We '11 settle that when father comes home,"
replied Mrs. Wagstaff. I think you ought to
take the eight-o'clock train in the morning."
"There should be no more delay than is ab-
solutely necessary," said the doctor. Now,
have a good time, Chris; and when you come
back you '11 thank me for insisting upon the
trip. Good-by. Don't look so troubled, Mrs.
Wagstaff; there 's nothing to worry about.
Good afternoon!" And he bustled away.
As soon as Chris could escape from his tear-
fully solicitous mother, he went- to his room,
locked the door, and gave the lamp an angry
rub. The genie appeared with his usual
promptness. For a few seconds master and
slave stood facing each other in silence.
"So," said Chris at last, you 're here, are
"Don't you see I am?" returned the genie,
whose face wore a hard, forbidding expression.
"Any orders you may see fit to issue will re-
ceive prompt attention. What is it this time ?
Another palace? "
No, it is n't," snapped Chris. I want to
know what you meant by playing such a mean
trick on me."
I am at a loss to understand you," said
the genie coldly, and with. a slight elevation
of the eyebrows.
"You know perfectly well what I mean," re-
joined Chris angrily. I told you to make
that palace disappear."
"Well, I did it, did n't I ? said the slave
of the lamp. "It's gone, is n't it ? I was n't
aware that any of it was left. If, however, you
aver that such is the case, I shall give the
matter my immediate attention."
"You know well enough what I mean," said
Chris. The palace disappeared all right, but
I fell fifteen or twenty feet."
"Did you, indeed?" queried the genie.
As he spoke he pretended to brush a fly
from his noie; but Chris saw plainly that he
was only attempting to conceal a smile.
"Yes, I did cried the boy, almost fiercely.
" Now see here; I did n't tell you to let me
drop all that distance, did I ?"
"Nor did you tell me not to," was the genie's
quick response. You made no personal refer-
ence whatever, if my memory serves ine aright.
I had my hands pretty full in getting that pal-
ace out of the way, and I had no time to think
of you. Should anything of the kind occur
again, it would be well for you to bear this
experience in mind."
This made Chris. angrier than ever; the cool-
ness and self-possession of the genie were cer-
tainly very provoking.
It would be well for you to bear it in mind,
too," he cried. I sha'n't stand many more
"No, I don't think you will," replied the
genie significantly. "It 's a wonder to me
that you were not killed to-day. Now, see
here," he went on in an altered tone, "to get
right down to business, if you think you can
get your errands run and your palaces built
any better by any one else, go right ahead and
engage that individual's services. Don't con-
sider my feelings; I assure you I am not at
all anxious to continue the career of over-work
and over-worry that you seem to have marked
out for me. Why, my gracious! you don't appear
to understand how this sort of thing is wearing
on me. And it was so different with Aladdin!
He always had a pleasant word for every one.
He was n't a bit spoiled by prosperity.. Why,
I was almost like one of the family. Of course
he 'd have his little joke once in a while, but
it was always a harmless one. He was a gen-
tleman, every inch of him. Oh, I tell you "-
and the genie sighed dismally folks are not
what they used to be. Those were good old
"Well, you need n't take on so," said Chris,
rather irritably. "There are good times coming,
400 .oJ.ot) .
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
"They 're a long while getting here," grum-
bled the genie, gazing discontentedly at the
"Whenever you get through talking," said
the boy, sharply, I '11 tell you why I sent for
you this time."
I 'm all attention," was the reply, uttered
with an air of resignation. Let me know the
worst at once."
"'WHAT IS IT THIS TIME? ANOTHER PALACE ?
SAID THE GENIE."
"I 've nothing to say that need worry you
any," returned Chris. I wanted to warn you
not to make another attempt on my life, and
to tell you what has happened since the last
time we met."
And he informed his companion of the events
that had succeeded the disappearance of the
palace. The genie's face brightened up some-
what as he listened.
"Well," he said, when Chris had finished,
"I think you're all wrong in making a mys-
tery of the lamp and of me, and in allowing
yourself to be so misunderstood. If I were
over-sensitive, I should think you were actually
ashamed of me; but I 'm not, and I don't care
a rap. I 'm rather pleased with the idea of
this trip; we may get a good deal of fun out
of it. Where does your cousin live ?"
S\\'here 's that "
About twenty miles east of this place."
SWell. I 'II ell utello what we '11 do," chuckled
the genie : l when \ ou 're all ready to start, you
gie the lamp a rub, and I '11
transport you there in a jiffy.
TIink how astonished your
c,- parents will be to see you tear-
-ng through the atmosphere at
thel rate of a hundred miles a
second, more or less! It will
be a delicate hint to them that
\ou are not to be dictated to
and bossed around in the fu-
ture, and will prepare them for
coining exhibitions of your
po:e'r. How 's that for an
idea ? I tell you, two heads
are better than one!" And
the- spirit laughed heartily.
SIt won't do at all," said
Chris. "I 'm not ready
to let anybody know
"That s' always the
way!" cried the genie,
principle to everything I say and
do. I can't even appear in a shape of
'my own choosing, but must disguise myself as
a shriveled-up old man or a commonplace
young school-boy. Oh, it's galling, galling! "
"You can appear in any shape you like in
the future," returned Chris, a good deal net-
tled by the uncomplimentary reference to him-
self, "so long as you keep a civil tongue in
Humph! was the genie's only response.
"And now," added the boy, "you may go.
I 've said all I have to say at present."
CHRIS AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP.
The angered spirit instantly vanished; and
this time his disappearance was accompanied
by a loud clap of thunder, which Chris felt
could be construed only as an evidence of his
disappointment and anger at the result of the
At the tea-table that evening, Mr. Wagstaff
discoursed learnedly upon the singular phe-
nomenon of a thunderclap on a clear, cool
afternoon in October-explaining to his own
satisfaction the natural causes that had pro-
duced it, and reprimanding Chris sharply for
giggling in the midst of his remarks.
"Are you going to be ready for the eight-
o'clock train to-morrow morning?"
"Yes, sir," replied Chris, who had resigned
himself to the inevitable; "my bag is packed
"You need n't have done that," said his mo-
ther. Besides, I want to send some preserves
to your Aunt Sabina."
"There 's plenty of room for them in the
bag," said the boy; "you can put them in be-
fore I go."
Chris overslept the next morning; his fond
mother would not awaken him, and he had
only time to swallow a
hurried breakfast before
Starting for the railway-
station. He was obliged
to run nearly all the way,
and reached his desti-
-L nation just as the train
halted, the air-brakes
His first thought as
k' soon as he was comfort-
lamp, which he had
placed in the bag the
previous evening, and
had not seen since. Of
course it was all right, he
told himself, but it would
do no harm to look.
He urni:,:lki ili valise, which was a small
ion, ,:ind irn.slecr.:d its contents. There were
h c: Iothe~, t0. : l"::ks, a jar of preserved water-
nmil..n rin.l :mn .. '.-, of pickled peaches-but
r':i l.i m i_,
Chri -riappei.d lth lock of the bag, sprang to
his feet, and rushed to the door, his expressive
face indicating all the anxiety and dismay he
What's the matter, Chris ?" asked Jotham
Smiley, the brakeman. Hain't fergot nothing ,
Don't talk like that to him, pa!" cried hev ye?"
Mrs. Wagstaff, anxiously. "You know the Without replying, the boy leaped from the
doctor said he must n't be excited." train, which was just rumbling away from the
"Well, we '11 drop the subject," said Chris's station. In another moment he and the valise
father; then, turning to the boy, he asked: were rolling down a steep embankment.
(To be continued.)
WHAT THE FLAGS TELL.
BY ENSIGN JOHN M. ELLICOTT, U. S. N.
EVERY one who channel great incoming and outgoing ocean
has watched a steamships are steaming continually. Let us sit
S, great ocean and watch these unknown leviathans, and learn
Ssteamship what their flags tell.
t coming into First, then, the big national flag waving from
or going out the short staff at the stern tells in what country
H of port has the ship is owned and registered; it tells her
S noticed that home. Then the national flag at the foremast-
.flags fly from head tells the country to which she is going.
i nearly every If it is the same flag as that at her stern, it tells
masthead,, as that she is just getting home from a long jour-
4 well as from a ney at sea. : Then at the mainmast-head you
flagstaff at her will see a flag or a pennant or a burgee, which
tern; yet few peo- is not the flag of any nation, but has on it letters
pl understand that and symbols with which you are probably unfa-
c% e\cr one of those flags miliar. That is her "house flag"; that is to say,
i hoisted for a special reason, the distinguishing flag of the company to which
INTERNATIONAL CODE and tells something about she belongs. If you spend much time on the
SINAL B TA A the ship and her movements. sea or in seaport cities you will learn many of
LETTER FOR ME? It is easy to learn what the these house flags by heart. Thus the Cunard
flags tell, for they mean the same things on all Line house flag is a red flag with a golden lion
ships the world over; but first we must know in the center; that of the White Star Line is
the different kinds of flags. a red burgee with a single white star in the
A flag proper is rectangular; a triangular flag center; that of the Anchor Line is a white bur-
is called a pennant; and a triangular flag with gee with a red anchor in the center; that of the
the end notched out is called a burgee. A flag North German Lloyd is a white and blue flag
proper with its end notched out is called a with a key and an anchor crossed in the center
broad pennant, and a very long narrow pennant of a laurel wreath; and the American Line,
is called a coach-whip pennant. These are all owning the two magnificent steamers "New
the shapes in modern use; and if you will keep York" and Paris" that for a national flag
in mind these five kinds and their names, the now fly the Stars and Stripes, has for its house
explanation of their meanings will be easy and flag a white flag on which is a blue spread
interesting. They are shown on page 406. eagle.
Let us go to some big commercial city and The company to which a steamship belongs
look at its shipping. Suppose we go to New is also indicated in many cases by the colors
York, and, taking a Staten Island ferry-boat, painted on her smokestacks. You may feel
run down through the picturesque upper bay, sure, for instance, that a steamer with tall, red
get off at St. George, and go down to Fort smokestacks topped with black, and having two
Wadsworth. Walking out on its grass-carpeted narrow, black rings, is a Cunarder; that those
earthworks, we shall find ourselves on a high having black smokestacks with a white band
bluff looking down upon a narrow strip of water near the top belong to the American Line; and
uniting the upper and lower bays. Through this that a steamer with a cream-colored smokestack,
pI 'I -.C r
'' -, I
THE ARMORED CRUISER "NEW YORK," U. S. N., PASSING THE AMERICAN STEAMSHIP "PARIS"-BOTII FLYING SIGNALS. (SEE FLAGS, PAGE 407.)
Drawn for ST. NICIOI.AS, by permission, from a photograph by J. S. Johnston.
on each side of which is painted a red star, is
one of the Red Star Line.
But we were considering only flags. Let us
look a little way up toward Tompkinsville, and
see the ships at anchor there. One has, besides
the flags we have considered, a small blue flag
with a square white center at her foreyard-arm.
What does that mean, you ask? It means
that she is just about to sail. It is one of the
flags of the International Signal Code (of which
I shall tell you later), and in that code it repre-
sents the letter P. In seamen's talk it is called
the blue-peter. When you see it hoisted alone
on a ship it means that she is going to sail for a
foreign port that very day. Ships are not very
particular where they hoist this flag, so you
may sometimes see it at a masthead, or even
only half-way up, but it always means the same
thing. It is a sign for freight, passengers, and
mail to be hurried aboard; for bills of lading to
be closed; and for shipping agents to complete
their invoices at once. Sometimes a ship will
come into port with the blue-peter flying, show-
ing that she is going right out again the same
Steamers carrying mail usually fly a flag with
letters or words printed on it to indicate the
fact, such as U. S. M.," R. M.,"-" United
States Mail," "Royal Mail"; but the shape and
color of such flags are matters of mere fancy.
Up the bay a little farther, you may see a
ship lying at anchor with scarcely a sign of life
about her. There are no small boats crowding
around or hurrying to and fro between the ship
and the shore. At her foremast-head is a pale
yellow flag which even the least informed recog-
nize as the sign of quarantine. This is also one
of the signal-flags in the International Code,
and represents the letter Q; but when hoisted
by itself it means that the vessel over which it
floats carries a deadly pestilence which must be
confined to her alone if human precaution can
avail. No communication whatever with the
shore or with other vessels can be had by those
on board of that ill-fated ship until the health
officials pronounce her free from disease and
Yet that quarantine flag is not always an
evidence of such a terrible state of affairs on
board. In many ports a ship is required to
FLAGS TELL. 405
hoist it upon coming in, whether she has disease
on board or not, and to keep it hoisted until
the quarantine doctor pays her a visit and,
finding all well, gives her permission to haul it
down. Then, again, some ports are so infected
with contagious diseases all the year round,
that ships coming from them are kept in quar-
antine in other ports for a certain number of
days by law, even if there is not a single case
of sickness on board. There is such a quar-
antine against the ports of Brazil nearly all
over the world, because of the terrible scourge
of yellow fever.
An American man-of-war recently stopped at
the island of St. Vincent for coal. She was
from Brazil, so was promptly quarantined by
the Portuguese officials, although there was not
so much as a toothache among her lusty crew,
and had not been for -months. Only the coal-
barges could come alongside, and the coal was
put into bags by the longshoremen in the
barges and hoisted on board by the ship's crew.
The coal agent sat in a small boat at a safe dis-
tance, and looked on. Nothing could induce
him to take even so much as a letter or a tele-
gram -from the- ship, for fear of contagion;. but
when the coal was all in, he came alongside
and accepted the ship's money in payment for
his coal with alacrity.
But let us watch the vessels again. There
is a pretty brigantine barely creeping along
against the tide with all sail set to catch the
failing wind, and she has her national flag fly-
ing half-way up her main rigging. That will
catch anybody's attention as an odd place for
a flag, and that is what she wants it to do.,
She is calling for a tug to tow her up to the
city. Sails have carried her thousands of miles
over the high seas; but it would be waste of
time for-her to battle unaided against that strong
tide through the Narrows, so she places her
flag in her main rigging-a well-known call for
a tug. Were she to run aground, she would
place her flag in the same place, upside down,
in order to make the call more urgent. This
used to be done by ships at sea to indicate dis-
tress and need of help, but it can be done bet-
ter now by signal, as will be explained later.
Now, here is a steamship close to Fort Wads-
worth, looking very neat and trim, and flying
WHAT THE FLAGS TELL.
several flags. At the stem is the United States
flag, at her bow the union jack; at the main-
mast-head is a long coach-whip pennant, and
at the foremast-head is a big red flag. We
know at once that she is an American steamer,
but that long coach-whip always, and in all
countries, has a special significance. It tells
that the ship flying it is a man-of-war. It is
carried by all war vessels in commission in all
across the ocean, but is hoisted when the ship
is leaving the foreign port and when she is ap-
proaching her home port.
The red flag hoisted alone is always a danger-
signal. It generally means that explosives are
being loaded or unloaded, or transported in an
If this man-of-war were a flag-ship with a
K. R F
board, she would fly a broad
pennant. In our navy it is
blue with a'single white star.
If an admiral were aboard,
she would fly a blue flag with
two- white stars. In other
navies these flags are different.
The union jack, or the jack,
as it is commonly called, which
is the blue portion of our flag
with the forty-four white stars,
has different meanings on
WHITE. YELLOW. REI
FLAGS, PENNANTS, AND BURGEES OF THE INTERNATIO
navies, unless they are flag-ships, in which case
the flag of the commodore or admiral is flown
at the mizzenmast-head and the coach-whip
is not hoisted at all. When a man-of-war is
homeward bound after a long cruise, she flies
a coach-whip often over a hundred feet long,
which is called a homeward-bound pennant.
It is often so long that a tin can or other float
has to be tied to the end of it to skip along the
water and keep the pennant stretched out clear
of the ship. It is not carried flying all the way
W a man-of-war, according to
where it is hoisted. If it is
hoisted on a staff at the bow,
it is only for dressing purposes,
indicating that the ship is
D. BLUE. in her best trim and ready
NAL CODE. for public inspection. You
should, therefore, never see it
hoisted at the bow when clothes are drying on
the lines, nor in dirty, rainy weather, nor when
a ship is coaling. If it is hoisted at the foremast-
head, it means that the ship wants a pilot. If
it is hoisted at a yard-arm, it tells that a general
court martial is holding a trial on board.
But see-the red flag has been hauled down:
the man-of-war's powder has all been stowed.
Now a red pennant flutters at her yard-arm. It
is the meal-pennant in our navy, and means
that the crew is at breakfast, dinner, or supper.
1895.] WHAT THE
There, too, is another flag taking the place of
the red one at the foremast-head. It is in four
quarters -two red and two white. That is called
the coret. It recalls everybody immediately to
FLAGS TELL. 407
each other on any subject they wish. Before
the year 1855 this code did not exist, and two
ships meeting at sea, if of different nationalities,
could not communicate intelligently unless they
a t..,,:^.^B" .
the ship, and usually means that she is about
to depart. If necessary a gun will be fired to
call attention to it.
All these things you can tell from the flags;
but besides these there is an international signal
code, adopted by nearly every civilized country,
by which any ships meeting at sea can talk to
got within hailing-distance, and the communi-
cations were made by word of mouth. If their
captains spoke different languages, and there
were no interpreters on either vessel, they were
more helpless than if dumb.
On July 2, 1855, a committee was appointed
by the British Board of Trade "to inquire into
and report upon the subject
of a code of signals to be
WHAT THE FLAGS TELL.
and afterward translated by
many foreign nations. This
" WANT FOOD -AM STARVING."
"I AM LOADED WITH COMBUSTIBLES."
INTERNATIONAL CODE SIGNALS.
used at sea." In September of the following code has now become established all over the
year this committee presented a code made world, and is known as the International Signal
up of eighteen flags and Code. Now when a ship meets
pennants representirl -L._ jr,_,tiecr ship at sea, her
the eighteen conso- .:,r.tain looks in his sig-
nant letters of the .r. nil-book for the combi-
alphabet, out of nation of flags which
which 78,642 com- represents his ship's
binations could be name, and hoists
made for words r them. The cap-
and sentences. A tain of the other
signal-book of ship looks at that
combinations,with ,i., combination in
the words, sen- r- his book, and
tences, names of reads opposite to
places and ships it the same name.
which these com- -. _. Then he tells his
binations repre- -". ship's name in
sented, was pre- the same way.
pared, adopted, THE FLAG LOCKER. Then he may ask
"I AM ON FIRE.
WHAT THE FLAGS TELL.
questions or tell anything by looking in the
signal-book for the sentences or parts of sen-
tences he wants, and hoisting the combina-
tion of flags which makes them. In his own
language, the other captain will find the same
sentences opposite the same combinations of
flag letters in his own signal-book.
Moreover, one can tell before looking into
a signal-book the general character of a signal
made. Remember that the code is made up
of one burgee, four pennants, and thirteen
square flags. Now, the most important signals
have only two flags in a hoist. If the burgee
is on top, some ship's attention is being de-
manded, and her number or national colors will
be hoisted at the same time, if known. Such
a signal is often made on shore to warn a ship
that she is running into danger. If a pennant
is on top, it is a "compass" signal; but if a
square flag is on top, it is an urgent danger or
"distress" signal. Especially remember this, for
if you see a vessel flying an international signal
of two flags with a square flag on top, she is
in dire distress: she may be aground, or sinking,
or on fire, or her crew may have mutinied. If
you see such a signal and are on shore, run
to the nearest lighthouse, life-saving station,
or marine observatory, and get them to read
it; or hail a tug or boat to go with all haste
to the vessel signaling. If you see such a
signal at sea, never hesitate to call the attention
of your captain to it at once.
(OR NAME SIGNAL)
FOR THE A PARIS,"
Signals of three flags in a hoist are for car-
rying on general conversation. Signals of four
flags are mostly names. With the burgee on
top, they are names of cities, countries, capes,
bays, etc., and are called geographical signals.
With the pennant G uppermost, they are names
of men-of-war. With a square flag uppermost,
they are names of merchant vessels.
The only single-flag signals are the answering
pennant, meaning "I understand"; the pennant
C, meaning "yes"; and the pennant D, meaning
"no." In order to call attention to the fact
that she is going to make a signal by the In-
ternational Code, a ship hoists the answering
pennant (which is also called the code pennant)
under her national ensign.
SThe navies of all nations have a secret code
of signals, with flags differing entirely from
those of the universal code, and differing for
each country. So if you see signals flying on
a man-of-war, you must not hope to learn their
significance unless the International Code pen-
nant has been hoisted under the national flag to
show that that code is used. During our great
naval review there were men-of-war from nearly
every nation on earth gathered together, and
they had to be commanded, on their journey
from Hampton Roads to New York, by one
American admiral. So the International Code
of Signals was used, and every ship of every
nation understood and obeyed as clearly as if
all had been of one country.
(OR NAME SIGNAL)
FOR THE FLAGSHIP
" NEW YORK."
1. THE ENGLISH FLAG AT THE FOREMAST,
MFANS BOUND FOR ENGLAND."
2. THE AMERICAN LINE'S HOUSE FLAG AT
THE MAINMAST. 1. THE NATIONAL FLAG AT THE STERN.
S. THE MAIL FLAG. 2. THE REAR-ADMIRALIS FLAG AT THE MAINMAST.
EXPLANATION OF FLAGS SHOWN IN THE PICTURE ON PAGE 404.
THE BROWNIES THROUGH THE UNION.
BY PALMER Cox.
began to drive
The birds to roost and bees to hive,
And out once more the beetles bring
That through the day kept folded wing,
The Brownies crossed a bridge of wood,
And in the State of Texas stood.
Said one: Of all the States so
Through which we've passed with
S The Lone Star' State, where now
Can find no rival in the land
To vie with its tremendous spread
Of acres, from the River Red
Down to the Gulf; and westwardly
Beyond the Brazos stretching free,
Until its distant boundary
The Rio Grande at length
Another said: "And here
All products that the peo-
In cultivated fields are
Or brought from mines beneath the ground -
The wood, the coal- and iron-mine,
The wheat, the cotton, corn, and wine,
The beef, the wool, and horses fleet,
In great abundance here we meet.
If we want rice or sugar-cane,
Or butter, fruit, or golden grain,-
Whatever people make or grow,-
Be sure we sha'n't have far to go.
An empire in itself, it lies
Serene beneath its sunny skies."
Then one remarked: Here drove on drove
The,cattle through the country rove,
And horses that can stand the strain
Of lengthy races o'er the plain.
We '11 be of service if we can,
And, acting on the cow-boy plan,
Soon mount some broncos, as they're
And round up cattle running wild.
This will afford us, I'll be bound,
The greatest sport we 've ever found."
If there is aught that seems to raise
The Brownies' spirits to a blaze,
It is some plan that will provide
The means whereby they all can ride.
. ... p .
THE BROWNIES THROUGH THE UNION.
5. : '.
.;':... =r~-r/,; :< ;-,
- .tW-, -. -- .- -
'T was strange to see how quick they found
The ropes and saddles hanging round,
And bridles made to conquer still
The horse that scorned the rider's will.
Soon mounted, ready to pursue
The straying stock, away they flew.
At times a number on one steed
Rode up and down at greatest speed;
Some by the rein essayed .to guide
The horse across the ranches wide,
THE BROWNIES THROUGH THE UNION.
While others with the lasso long
Made bold to check the cattle strong.
How they could stick and hang about,
Or wild the beast they rode or chased,-
Is more than those can understand
Who have not
But not from
lessons, by "
THE BROWNIES THROUGH THE UNION.
The band we follow night by night
Through dangers dark-and pleasures light,
Have gathered all their mystic powers
From other pedagogues than.
They came upon the scene to
To sail, to swim, to jump, to
Or turn their hands to skilful
In ways that oft the record broke,
Without instruction from mankind.
They leave all human art behind.
Some creatures, crazy in their fright,
Ran dragging horses left and right,
While all the Brownies on their back
Were shouting every turn and tack,
Directing how the beast to throw,
Or how to hold, or let him go.
They found ere long the cow-boy's task
Was not so light as one might ask
Who was not well prepared to face
of the time
Ran here and there in
greatest need .
Of something that would *: ?.. -
Till wildest cattle left the field.
There, crouching low on hand and knee,
They formed a picture strange to see,
Still waiting for the time when they
To different points could slip away.
Thus night was spent with many a race,
And many a fear, and many a case
That tried the courage of the best
Before they sought a place of rest.
Jbwn in his cellar (
hidden aweay, ',
Little Man Mercury
sits while he may.
Up from his dwelling
a tall ladder shows;
Why it is put there,
wee Mercury knows
When the weather is warm
he skips up to the top,
And when it grows colder,
"c down stairs he must stop.
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
By ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS.
[Begun in tie November number.]
"THAT PIG OF A PIERRE."
"STOP, you! Tell them to stop, Marcel! I
have lost my letter "
Philip's voice rang out so strained and star-
tled that Marcel the equerry turned about with
a jerk, and the postilions reined up so quickly
that the horses were almost thrown upon their
Back to the fountain raced page and equerry,
their eyes upon the muddy roadway. At their
coming, the crowd quickly gathered again, and
though Marcel the equerry threw all possible
authority into his command, In the name of
the Emperor!" it did not suffice to keep the
crowd at bay, nor to scatter the swarm of offi-
cious street-boys, who, under the pretense of
hunting, only confused things all the more.
And, not content with poking the mud, they
indulged their bent in poking fun at the un-
fortunates so openly that Marcel the equerry
stamped with rage, and Philip's flushed face
showed how keenly these street-jokes cut.
The search was fruitless. Half distracted,
Philip was turning'away, when there pushed
through the crowd a stoutly built young fellow
of sixteen. He wore a sort of half uniform,
and had in his walk just a bit of swagger, like
that of one who now and then was favored with
a little brief authority.
He looked searchingly at the page an in-
stant; then he pushed forward.
"By the candle that hung the baker!" he
cried, "it 's the 'prince'! You are young Des-
nouettes, you;-he who lived with Mother
Th6rbse, and is now page of the palace-is
it not so? What is wrong with you?"
Philip greeted anything that looked like help.
There was a certain amount of interest in the
boy's tone, and the page, like a drowning man,
was ready to clutch at any straw.
"We were upset here. I was thrown out,
and have lost a letter meant for the palace."
"Bad enough! Bad enough!" exclaimed the
new boy. "And you were fishing for it in the
mud here, young Desnouettes? Off, now! It's
easy to see you have forgotten your training
before you are six years out of the streets.
Don't you know that sometimes one must fish
in the air and hunt in the sea? I '11 wager you,
now, that thing is right before your eyes, if it is
not under your nose; as, for example- And,
with a dash, he plunged into the crowd, whirled
about first one and then another, and finally
pounced upon an inoffensive-looking old Bel-
lows-and-buckets-to-mend man, who, with his
basket of bellows strapped on his back, was an
idle gazer in the watching crowd.
So, rascal! You delay the Emperor's mes-
sage, do you ? See, you page, is not this your
letter ?" and he pulled from beneath the bel-
lows-mender's basket-strap a paper that had
been slyly tucked there.
Philip stared in unbelief, and then fell upon
his recovered treasure with a shout. Marcel
the equerry cried in a loud voice: "In the
name of the Emperor, seize that man! Po-
But the old bellows-mender protested his
innocence in a torrent of denial, and even
Philip was compelled to admit the wisdom of
his new friend's laughing taunt: "Ho! you
page; you will need to go to school to the
Street again. Don't you know that he who is
guilty is not he who is caught? Old bellows-
mender could never stick a note under his own
strap, could he, say? Some of our good friends
here at hand played that trick on him and you.
Having the booty, let the joke pass. The letter
is better than the lifter."
Wise one, let me thank you," Philip said,
ready to clasp his benefactor in a warm em-
brace. "Your name?"
S" Then you do not know me?"
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
"What, I? Why-no!-but so! Why-it
"That pig of a Pierre?" Philip blurted out
the words in an astonishment of recognition.
Citizen Pierre Labeau, at your excellence's
service," the big boy said, with a mock salute.
"Oh, you are not the only one out of our Street,
Prince Phil, to get your step. Behold me! I
am deputy doorkeeper at La Force !"
"The big prison ?"
"The same and where you might have
been, young Desnouettes, had I not been clever
enough to see through an old joke such as our
street has ever loved to play upon the high and
Philip could scarcely speak. Shame and sur-
prise alike filled him with dismay, and almost
brought the mist of boyish mortification into
his eyes. He had driven through the Street of
the Washerwomen just to make that pig of a
Pierre" green with envy; and, behold, Philip
was the discomfited one-Pierre, the self-pos-
But, quickly, mortification turned to grati-
tude. He flung out both hands toward his old
"My friend," he cried, "I owe you much.
Where may I see you to-morrow? I am on
duty to-day. I wish to Oh, my head! My
heart! I. forgot the other!"
"What now?" Pierre inquired, struck by
Philip's sudden despair.
"All is ready, Monsieur the Page," Marcel
the equerry called from the calash.
The finding of the letter had driven-the mo-
rocco case from Philip's mind, and now the
misery broke upon him. The diamond buckle
and the morocco case had not been found!
"See, Pierre," he said quickly, and speaking
low; "I carried, too, with me a diamond hat-
buckle in a brown morocco case. The Em-
press gave it me last night. That, also, is gone.
Miserable me !--what shall I do?"
"Sparklers, eh ?" Pierre exclaimed. "That's
harder yet. In a brown morocco case? So!
Go you about your business. As for me, I will
play the detective. Trust to me, and-see,
you--hunt me up at La Force to-morrow.
Adieu, my prince! My reverence to the Em-
peror. Tell him I yet look to have Fouch6's
portfolio as minister of police."
Then he almost forced Philip into the car-
riage, and, waving him an adieu, led off the
crowd in a rousing cheer: Long live the Em-
peror! Long live the Emperor's page!"-
with what was just then the popular postscript:
"Long live the King of Rome !"
To which courtesy not certain whether
it was real or sarcastic Philip replied with
a wave of his befeathered chapeau, and was
speedily whirling into the courtyard of the
As he rose to spring from the carriage, his
foot struck something small and hard, am-
bushed beneath the carriage-mat. He pounced
upon it at once.
"My faith!" he cried, with gleaming eyes,
"the morocco case Was ever boy luckier
There it must have fallen in the overturn,
and there have lain during all the hunt and
worry; and, meantime, Pierre was playing de-
tective for it. Well, he should be enlightened
and recompensed next day. Odd that "that
pig of a Pierre" should have turned out such a
trump, after all.
Thinking these thoughts, Philip entered the
palace, a wiser and much more subdued young
fellow than had left it in such a blaze of glory
only the day before. The boy's pride had
suffered sadly, but he had learned a lesson.
Hastily making himself presentable, he deliv-
ered to the Emperor the letter from Josephine.
"So; 't is our royal courier. Well done, you
page." And taking the letter, he read its words
of congratulation and friendship with interest
and pleasure. Then he turned to the boy.
"And how looked the Empress? he asked.
"Well, Sire; and much delighted," Philip
"' And did she "- for Napoleon was always in-
quisitive -" did she remember the messenger? "
"Oh, yes, Sire; royally," the boy made an-
"So! It was like her. But how ?" the Em-
peror went on.
"With this, Sire." And Philip fished the
brown morocco case from the pocket into
which he had thrust it.
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
Napoleon took the case from the boy, and
pressed the-spring. It flew open, and disclosed
to the Emperor -nothing!
Philip gave a start of terror; his legs lost all
their stiffness; his eyes grew big with dismay.
"Gone! he gasped.
"The Empress pays liberally for favors," said
Napoleon, grimly; "or else my messengers play
the fool with things committed to them. What
was in here, boy ?"
A diamond hat-buckle, Sire," the boy replied
in a broken and distracted voice.
"And where is it? "
"Alas, Sire! said Philip, sadly, "I fear it was
stolen when the letter was lost."
"The letter? What letter? cried the Em-
The wrath of Napoleon was not a pleasant
thing to face. It had withered bigger men
than Philip the page. But the boy knew that
a straightforward story was his only salvation,
and, without flinching, he told the Emperor the
whole affair, not even concealing his reasons for
driving through the Street of the Washerwomen.
The Emperor listened impassively, and when
the end was reached he said: "This, then, is
the way you would play the messenger, you
boy? You would use the Emperor's time to
serve your private ends? Had the letter been
lost, your head should have been the forfeit. I
confer favors only where I can trust; I com-
mand only those who will obey me. Have I
judged wrongly, and may I not trust you, boy?
You have betrayed your trust-you, the Courier
of the King. Ah, so! I have it! Come with
me. The King of Rome, whom you have served
so carelessly, shall judge your misdemeanor."
And bidding the boy follow him, the Emperor
strode on to the imperial nursery.
In his royal cradle lay the royal baby. Na-
poleon stopped beside the little bed of his son,
looked down upon him, and said solemnly:
"Your Majesty, here is your courier. He
has been careless in his trust. I present him to
you for judgment and sentence. Your Majesty's
smile or frown is law. What shall it be? Shall
we punish or forgive? "
All this seemed, at first, very absurd to Philip,
who had but a boy's contempt for a cradled
baby. But he grew serious as the Emperor
made his point. He looked down upon the
helpless infant,. anxiety in his heart, but concili-
ation in his eye; and as he looked he winked
the wink of flattery at the wondering baby.
Thereupon, the royal infant began to coo"
and goo with all the gurgle of baby good
nature; with wide-open eyes he looked upon
the dissembling boy, and, caught by the wink
of that designing eye, tossed up one little hand,
while the sober baby.face broke suddenly into
a certain and perceptible smile.
"The King smiles. There you have the ver-
dict, boy," the Emperor said. "His Majesty
graciously pardons your misdemeanor, on the
condition, if you can translate his sentence,
that you never do so again." And Napoleon
laughed. For this singular man had a boy-
side to his nature, that spent itself, now and
then, in jokes and romps and ear-pulling, not
usually associated with an imperial majesty.
" Is he not a fine, fat boy, Philip ? My head,
they say-my eyes. Some day you shall dance
'zig-zag' for him, as you did for that other boy
in St. Cloud,-provided you have not, before
that time, lost your head through heedlessness,
which I fear is not unlikely. But keep your
head we need it for the future. For this
young monseigneur here we must build up
France; and such as you must help him wear
the crown. Go now. You are pardoned. The
courier is a page once more. Yes-and see to
it that you play detective, too. The diamond
buckle must be found. I give you three days
and a release from duty to find it. Some day,
too, let me see the Pierre boy. He is a shrewd
one, and should be good for something. Go;
and report the result to me in three days' time."
Philip turned to go; then dropping upon one
knee, he kissed, not the Emperor's hand, but-
clever boy that he was!-the hand of the baby
King. Thereby he won the Emperor's favor
anew; for even the great Napoleon was hu-
man- and a father!
The next morning, according to agreement,
Philip presented himself at the prison of La
Force, where were confined those held un-
der suspicion of crime or treason. His impe-
rial livery and his page's badge gained him
easy entrance, and in response to his inquiry
for Pierre, the deputy doorkeeper, that sturdy
A BOY OF THE FIRST .EMPIRE.
young fellow was soon hurrying from his post
in the Charlemagne Court to greet his visitor.
So; it is you, Monsieur the Page ? See
you, now; I have tracked three diamond hat-
buckles andtwo .
cases. Eh? Yes;
oh, yes, we can
find these things .
even after they
get hidden away l'
in the Court of
It is just know- :' .'
ing how to get i :-
at them, you ..A,"-t '
see. But when r t\
one comes to;'
knowing every .
thief in the big .-.$
prison, as I do, F "
one finds just
how to get his
have secured .
some sparklers, -.
yours, perhaps' '.
not. Now what
was your buckle Mi--'
like ?" "
Philip, as well
as he could, de-
scribed the gift
of the Empress.
have seen such -
a one--but not
its case." i ". -
"Thatis here," --
Behold, then! "'MY FRIEND I' PHILIP
I found it in the carriage after I left you."
That made the whole matter clear. By cleverly
using the knowledge gained by his street edu-
cation and his prison connection, Pierre had traced
out the lost buckle, and Philip was overjoyed.
To-morrow you shall have it," Pierre prom-
ised him. I can put my hands upon it in an
hour when once my lines are set; but not to-
day. See now, you Philip! I will deliver the
sparklers to you at the Tower of St. Jacques at
CRIED, 'I OWE YOU MUCH.'" (SEE PAGE 415.)
"At sunset to-morrow-at the Tower of St.
Jacques," Philip repeated. "And meantime,
Pierre, my friend" (you see it was no longer
"that pig of a Pierre"), "tell me how I can
ever repay you for this?"
"Wait until you get your sparklers," replied
the deputy doorkeeper of La Force; and then
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
Philip left the great gloomy prison that once
had been a baron's stronghold, and wandered
away to the house in the Street of the Fight.
Here he held an audience spell-bound with the
story of his travels and his adventures, his mis-
haps and his experiences, since last they had
seen him, and since he had been weighed in
the balance and found perhaps just a little
wanting, as the Courier of the King.
THE TOWER OF ST.
GRAND and graceful, the
Tower of St. Jacques over-
topped the tiled roofs of
the low buildings and the
straggling market that
surrounded it. Springing
into the air one hundred
and seventy-five feet, and
surmounted by a delicate
spire, the tower stood as
at once guide and land-
mark for all that section .
of old Paris, from the east-
ern barriers to the bridges
and the palace of the
The church of which ,
this stately tower was and
is the only survival had
been a sanctuary for mur-
derers in the days of the
ancient kings, but had it-
self been pulled down by
those later murderers-
the rabid revolutionists of
the time of the Terror-who could not dtaw the
sharp line that separates liberty from lawlessness.
For so enthusiastic a student of the past as
Citizen Daunou the grand old tower had spe-
cial interest. To this interest had been added
the fascinations of relic-hunting; for among the
papers that had come under his eye as Keeper
of the Archives had been one that spoke of
certain valuable relics deposited a generation
before in an old crypt beneath the northwest-
ern turret. This crypt, the Keeper of the Ar-
chives reasoned, might have escaped the pillage
and destruction by the revolutionary mob from
the Paris streets; and this he wished to prove
to his own satisfaction.
So it happened that on one of the last days
GONE' HE GASPED." (EE PAGE 416.)
of March, in the year 1811, Citizen Daunou
was on his way to the Tower of St. Jacques,
accompanied by Uncle Fauriel and Mademoi-
selle. She herself was something of an amateur
investigator, and, in her way, quite as interested
in the things to be seen and the things to be
studied in the quaint sections of old Paris as
was the scholarly Keeper himself.
They had left the big Bureau of Archives in
the Street of the Wheatfield, and with all the
ingenuity and assurance of the born Parisian
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
had threaded their way through the network
of narrow streets which separated the bureau
from the tower; for in the opening years of the
nineteenth century it was no easy task for any
one but a born Parisian to pick a secure way
through the great city's narrow and tortuous
They had skipped the flowing gutters, jumped
the piles of rubbish, cleared the thousand and
one impediments, dodged the ceaseless, push-
ing throng of peddlers, pedestrians, carriers, and
cartmen, on both roadway and sidewalk, until
panting Uncle Fauriel, pausing for breath in
the doorway of a convenient wine-shop in the
Street of the Fox, had mopped his perspiring
head and puffed out: "It may be all well
enough for you two-one long and lean, and
the other young and frisky- to rush along at
this rate, but I am getting too fat for your fun.
I 've dodged every cart and every carrier in
Paris; I 've jumped the gutters and pulled my-
self in like a Gascon. Time was when I could
do it as well as you, and travel the streets with-
out getting a speck of dust or a spot of mud,
as spick and span as Mademoiselle here; but
it 's gone by--it's gone by. I 'm too fat for
the narrow streets, and too clumsy for the
muddy ones. Go slower, or get me a cab."
But Mademoiselle did not hear his com-
plainings. She was conscious only of certain
words her. quick ears had caught from the
"One of Nicholas's boys, he is; name of
Desnouettes. It 's to be a big haul, eh ? Sun-
set-Tower of St. Jacques; and he says-"
This was all she heard; the voices were lost
in the crowd. She had not even caught sight
of the speaker; but it was quite enough for
Mademoiselle. Some danger threatened Philip;
for he was Desnouettes. He was one of "Nicho-
las's boys "- the nickname by which the streets
of Paris recognized Napoleon's pages.
She thought quickly. Could she warn Philip?
She did not know where to find him; for he
had told her he was to be "off duty" as a
page that day. Should she tell her father?
No, he would laugh at her; so, too, would
Uncle Fauriel. They would "pooh-pooh" the
idea of danger; they would tell her that Philip
was big enough to take care of himself, and
that it was no matter for maids to meddle
And yet that voice in the crowd might mean
danger to Philip. He had not told her of his
rendezvous at the Tower of St. Jacques; he
had told her merely that Pierre had promised
to restore the Empress's gift that day. Per-
haps it was a trap. What ought she to do?
-what could she do?
A brilliant plan flashed upon her.. The Em-
peror! He could do anything. Why, then,
should he not protect his pages? And Philip
was his favorite.
Her mind was quickly made up.
"Papa, I am going back," she declared.
"Go you with Uncle Fauriel, and go slowly; for
he is such a hot old dear just now. Perhaps
I should only be in the way if you are to climb
and poke about in the old tower. I have just
thought of something-I must do. Never mind
me; I can get back all right."
And even while the two relic-hunters looked
at her, puzzled over a girl's fickleness, she
was off with a wave of the hand before they
could make a protest, and, hurrying across to
the historic Street of St. Honored was soon
speeding away to the Tuileries.
She ran along the terrace to the Floral Gate,
and to the grenadier on guard outside she pre-
ferred her request.
The Emperor, Mademoiselle? Have you,
then, an admittance order?"
"Alas, no. I must see him on urgent affairs
- a matter of life and death," the girl said
"So; is it as bad as that? the guard-queried.
"I will summon my corporal-or, see! my faith,
Mademoiselle! you are in luck, you. Look!
there is the Emperor himself."
Out of the doorway that led to the private
apartments of the Emperor in the Floral Pa-
vilion of the great palace came a short, stout
man in a green overcoat. Mademoiselle knew
him at once. It was her friend of the Boulogne
woods; it was the Emperor.
A light carriage, surrounded by a small
cavalry escort of guardsmen stood in the inner
court. The big doors of the Floral Gate were
"Run, Mademoiselle, now," the guardsman
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
whispered. "It is your only chance I You must The Emperor's foot was on the carriage-step.
not lose it." And he turned away. Straight toward the carriage rushed the girl,
Almost before the words were said, the girl her hands stretched out to the little man in
a green coat.
Sire!" she ex-
S Ushers and
down at the
by this breach
of stiff court
with his foot
e. upon the wide
turned in sur-
prise; for he
S had peculiar
views as to
girls, and this
sirs," he said,
S is the girl?
"'SAVE HIM, SIRE!' SHE EXCLAIMED." ettes she
had scurried through the opened gateway. cried. "He is in danger danger of his life!"
Keyed up to the demand laid upon her, she was "Page Desnou-- ah! our detective, eh ? And
thoughtless of everything save her desire to be you are ? "
in time to rescue Philip from danger. I ? Why, I am Lucie Daunou, Sire."
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
"Daunou ? Daunou? the Emperor mused.
"What- the Keeper of the Archives ? And
you are the citizen's daughter, and young Des-
nouettes' friend ? Well, then, what of this dan-
ger? What is it? Here, sit you by me, and
tell the doleful tale." And he handed the
young petitioner to one of the small and stiff
but gilded settees that stood in the Floral Pa-
vilion. "Oh, sit, child! Never mind ceremony;
this is not a public reception." And he made
her sit at his side. Then she told her story.
"Not much to go by, that," the Emperor
remarked, as Mademoiselle reached th.: end.
"And yet it may mean mischief. Philip l.,
to receive back the lost
hat-buckle to-day, was he ?
He has tracked it well.
We must not let the chance
of losing it again come to
him. But how could those
rascals know it? Is that
Pierre boy playing him
false ? At the Tower of St.
Jacques, you say. We will i
set a watch. Ho, Mene- ....
val! See that we drive first
to Baron Pasquier's at the
Ministry of Police. Never -
fear, child; Philip shall
come to no such harm. r
There, run along; or- -.
wait you must be tired.
Come, you shall see the
"Oh, Sire! The King of ,.
Rome?" The girl clapped
her hands for joy.
"The baby, the baby,
child!" And then this
ruler of kings caught the
girl by the hand, and to-
gether-" Just as if he might have been Uncle
Fauriel," Mademoiselle afterward said-they
hurried along the corridor and into the royal nur-
sery. For, despite his imperial aims and his con-
quering schemes, no man, when he desired, was
more one of the people" than was the First
Napoleon. And on the subject of"that baby"
he was as proud a father -as ever breathed.
Mademoiselle looked and worshiped to her
heart's content, and quite captured the Em-
peror's heart by her loyal enthusiasm.
Seeing that the young girl glanced from the
baby's face to his own, the Emperor smiled,
saying: "He looks like me,-this baby here? "
"Oh, so much, Sire!" Mademoiselle replied.
Of course he does," the Emperor assented.
"We all say so here; is it not so, Madame ? "
"THEN SHE TOLD HER STORY."
he added, turning to the baby's governess, Ma-
dame de Montesquiou. Then to Mademoi-
selle: "Why, he is as much like me as-why,
as you are like Philip."
"I like Philip, Sire?" the girl exclaimed.
"To be sure," replied the Emperor, taking
Mademoiselle's chin between his fingers and
scanning her pretty face. "You should be his
sister, one would say."
A BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE.
But how could that be, Sire ? said the girl.
"He is Desnouettes."
"And you are Daunou. Are you Daunou,
child ?" the Emperor said, with a searching
look at Mademoiselle.
"Why, of course, Sire; who else should I
be'?" the girl rejoined.
Of course, who else?" the Emperor echoed;
then he added musingly, "I have known Citi-
zen' Daunou-let me see-ever since the days
of the Directory; and I never heard of the Citi-
zeness Daunou. Do you remember your mo-
ther, child ? "
"Why, no, Sire; she died when I was but
a baby like his Majesty here," Mademoiselle
Ah, yes; to be sure, like his Majesty here.
And now must we take leave of his Majesty
here, and think of a bigger boy. For our
knight is in danger, and he must be succored.
But see you, pretty one," the Emperor said,
again taking Mademoiselle's chin between his
fingers and looking in her eyes, "I have a mes-
sage for you: My compliments to Citizen Dau-
nou, and tell him that, like all old republicans,
he is but an owl when the sunlight comes, and
cannot see beyond his spectacles. Just tell him
that for me, will you, child ? "
And dropping the girl's chin, the Emperor
pinched her ear till she ouched!" in spite of her-
self, whereupon the Emperor laughed merrily,
and even the King in the cradle gurgled in fun.
"I will tell him so, Sire," Mademoiselle re-
plied dutifully, "since you command it. But
-is it respectful for me thus to speak to my
"When the Emperor uses you as a mouth-
piece, girl, anything is respectful," was the Em-
peror's decision. "And now, kiss his Majesty's
hand. The audience is over."
Mademoiselle dropped prettily on one knee
beside the golden cradle, and kissed the dim-
pled little hand that the nurse uncovered for
her. Then a page conducted her to the outer
gate, but not before she had received the Em-
peror's parting word: "I will see to Philip's
safety, little one. And do you remember my
message to Citizen Daunou: an owl in the sun-
light, eh ? "
And in the royal nursery Madame de Mon-
tesquiou, the little King's governess, said:
"Well, nurse, if the Emperor is to bring all the
children in Paris to see the little King, we
might as well be in the House of St. Vincent
de Paul as in the imperial palace. We shall
have his little Majesty catching some disease
yet, with all this hand-kissing." But, then,
Madame de Montesquiou was very jealous of
her royal little charge, and, if possible, would
have kept him under a glass case.
The Emperor did not forget his promise to
Mademoiselle. That very afternoon, fully an
hour before sunset, the Tower of St. Jacques
was put under watch by detectives, while in the
market at its foot a detachment of armed police
held themselves in readiness to answer a call
for help. The market was searched, the sur-
rounding space was watched, even the old
tower itself was twice hunted through for sus-
picious characters. But no Pierre, no Philip,
and no ambushed kidnappers were to be seen
What could it mean? Had Mademoiselle's
ears deceived her ? Had she "fooled" the Em-
And, meantime, where was Philip?
(To be continued.)
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
(Twelfth paper of the series on North A merican Mammals.)
BY W. T. HORNADAY.
FOR months I have been dreading the com-
ing of the order Rodentia, or Gnawers, as an
inexperienced lecturer dreads the hour of 8
P. M. Now that it is fairly upon us, I am in de-
spair. The order is so densely populated, and
by so great a variety of forms, that one could
just as easily write the history of the United
States on a postal card as to give even a good
general view of the rodents of North America in
the space available for them. There are twelve
families, and four hundred and seventeen species
and subspecies! And what are we to do? We
can only snap the camera at a very few of the
most typical species, and leave the-remainder
to be sought out by those who are specially
First let us see what are the leading subdi-
visions of the order, and the number of species
in each, north of Panama, so far as known in
FAMILIES OF THE ORDER RODENTIA.
Common Name. Latin Name. subspecies
HARE AND RABBIT FAMILY Le-por'i-da ...... 33.
PIKA FAMILY ...... ..... Lag-o-my'i-dc ... 2.
AGOUTI FAMILY ........ Ca-vi'i-d e....... 5.
PORCUPINE FAMILY ..... Hys-tric'i-da .... 3.
GIANT-RAT FAMILY ...... Oc-to-don'ti-de... 5.
JUMPING-MOUSE FAMILY .Za-pod'i-de. ..... I.
POUCHED-RAT FAMILY .. .Het-e-ro-my'i-&e. 71.
POCKET-GOPHER FAMILY Ge-o-my'i-dce .... 32. e
MOUSE FAMILY......... .Mu'ri-da ......1. S
BEAVER FAMILY ...... .Cas-tor'i-d ..... I.
SEWELLEL FAMILY .......Haf-lo-don'ti-dce 2.
The family of Hares and Rabbits is a large
one, and the relationships of its members are
a little difficult to understand unless they are
clearly marked out. I have endeavored to show
them in the subjoined diagram, which, I be-
lieve, will give the reader a clearer understand-
ing of the subject than would three pages of
description. It now remains for us to become
acquainted with a typical species of each of the
groups on the diagram.
Nature has divided these creatures into two
very well defined grand divisions-the Hares
and the Rabbits; but man, blind mole that
he is, has quite mixed things up for himself by
calling about half the rabbits "hares," and all
the jack hares rabbits."
And, curiously enough, the men of science,
instead of giving the genus of hares one Latin
name, and the rabbits another, have thrown all
the members of the family pell-mell into one
generic basket, and called it Lepus.
Polar regions to farthest
~ North. Large. Ears shorter
POLAR HARE. Than head. White almost per-
La ^_^ fLarge. Ears as long
Large. Ears as the head. White in
longer than winter, gray or brown
the head. A in summer. Hind feet
Variable in a v a ,.- moderately long.
Group is the Rabbit-like, but not a
DIAGRAM, true rabbit. Mountains
key to this en- of the West and N. W.
tire family. By reason of the form and size
of its members, it stands on middle ground be-
tween the polar hare, the rabbits, and the jack
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
hares, all of which, save the first, remain the
same color all the year round. The type of
this group is found in the NORTHERN VARYING
HARE of north-
NORTHERN VARYING HARE. ern New York,
(Le'tus A-mer-i-can'us.) Canada, and the
Canada, and the
Northwest Territory. This species is known as
the Varying Hare because the color varies ac-
cording to the season, being pale cinnamon-
brown in summer, and white in winter, with
only a narrow back line of brown. It is nearly
twice as large as the gray rabbit, but its ears
are shorter than its head, and its hind feet are
NORTHERN VARYING HARE.
about half-way, in length and strength, be-
tween those of the rabbit and those of the pow-
erful jack hare of the Southwest. A fairly large
adult male of this species measures 18 inches
in length of head and body, and to this the tail
adds 2 inches more. A fine, white specimen
of the southern variety, once brought to me
in midwinter from the Tonawanda swamp in
western New York, weighed a trifle over six
Like the true fur-bearing animals, all the
Varying Hares have two kinds of hair-a dense,
fine, and downy-soft under-fur, through which
grows a thin coat of coarse, straight hair. Usti-
ally it is the latter which gives the animal its
color. In summer these long hairs are black;
but in the fall, as winter approaches, they actu-
ally turn white. The brown color of the sum-
mer coat is due to the shedding of the coarse
hair in early spring, which allows the color of
the under coat to predominate for a time.
The habits of the Varying Hares and rabbits
are so much the same that one reference to
them is well-nigh sufficient for all. These crea-
tures all require brush, rocks, or rugged ravines
in which to hide from the wolves, foxes, hawks,
owls, and other enemies they are" powerless to
fight. When a member of the Lepus family can
have his choice, he burrows, to get out of harm's
way, either in a hole under the roots of a tree,
a crevice among rocks, or a miniature cave in
a ravine. Lacking all these, he hides in hollow
logs or trees,-which is frequently a sad mis-
take,-under the top of a fallen tree, or in the
tangle of a brush-patch. When he is seldom
disturbed in his haunts, he becomes quite bold,
and works out for himself under a thick bush a
little bower, called a "form," where he sits in
If the man with a gun approaches, he sits as
motionless as a statue, ears cocked, eyes star-
ing, breathing seldom and winking never, hop-
ing that he will not be noticed. With beating
heart he keeps tab on the distance between the
hunter and himself, and draws an imaginary
dead-line ten feet away. If the hunter does not
cross that well and good he sits still; but
let him take one step over it, and-zip! out
shoots Mr. Hare like a long streak of gray light.
You see a slim, straight body, stretched out to
its extreme length, flying over hillocks, darting
between brush-clumps, and four steel-spring legs
reaching wildly for more ground; and finally, at
the time for disappearing, a cotton-white flag
of truce is waved back at you beseechingly.
In summer these creatures grow fat on soft,
young twigs, buds of many kinds, grass, leaves,
and berries; but in winter their bill of fare nar-
rows down to the
bark of smooth-
barked bushes or
of small saplings,
twigs, or the ber-
ries of the wild
rose. SKULL OF POLAR HARE.
As a sort of northern bay-window to the
Varying-Hare group is the
POLAR HARE. POLAR HARE, which comes
very near to forming a lit-
tle group all by itself. In the higher polar
regions it is snowy white all the year round,
under-fur and all; but in the southern portions
of its home its summer color is gray and white.
It is very much larger than any of the varying
hares, ranging in weight from seven to eleven
pounds. Lieutenant Lockwood reported that
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
THE UPPER PICTURE SHOWS THE POLAR HARE IN ITS SUMMER
AS IT APPEARS IN WINTER.
he found its tracks in the snow at 83 24' north
latitude, which is the most northerly point ever
attained by man.
In its form, size, color, and geographic range,
the PRAIRIE HARE forms
PRAIRIE HARE. a perfect connecting-link
(Leus caz-essb.) between the other Vary-
ing Hares and the group of Jack Hares. It is
a large species (twenty-three inches in length),
with ears longer than its head, and hind legs
that are long and strong. It is white in winter,
but yellowish gray in summer; and the people
of the Northwest never think of calling it any-
thing else than a "jack rabbit." And no won-
der; for if it should ever forget to put on its
white coat in winter, it would be a jack rabbit,
indeed. Its home is in the great Northwest,
fron:n the, plains of the Saskatchewan to Kansas,
and thence westward to northern California
OF the many species of quadrupeds, larger
than th prir.irie-dog, that once inhabited the
great 'tsa-brush plains on both sides of the
R,,d.i; MNlo,.untains, the Prairie Hare is one of
the fte that still survive in goodly numbers,
an'd seern determined to stay. I am glad of it,
;:r I ni- 1nid I are old friends. Many a time
ha e mn nid- prairie meditations been wildly
st.minipedc. by the sudden rush of Leptus cam-
r/t.'.'.'.': Ir: the sage-brush at my horse's feet,
and its plunge down the near-
est "draw" with the speed
of a sky-rocket. But, what
is more serious, it is on record
that while crossing those vast,
smoothly shaven divides of
bs central Montana, where not
even a poor little sage-brush
grew by way of companion,
the writer hereof has more
than once mistaken a white-
tailed Prairie Hare bounding
leisurely away at two hundred
yards for a white-rumped an-
S telope at a supposed distance
'' 'offive hundred yards,-which
illustrates the difficulty of
judging distances on a bare
COAT, THE LOWER and treeless plain.
If you say JACK HARE to
a Texas cow-boy, he will laugh at you, and then
JACK HARE. ask if you mean a "jack rab-
(Le us cal-lo'is.) bit." But your name will be
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
the right one, even though every man, woman,
and child in the land of Lepus callotis calls him
a rabbit, and shall to the end of time. But
whenever or whatever you call him, you must
do it quickly, or he will be out of hearing.
Some say the Jack Hare is all ears; but that
is not literally true, for his make-up includes a
pair of uncommonly good hind legs also. His
ears are from five to six inches in length, but
his hind legs often measure across a township.
In point of size, this species has the greatest
length of head and body of all the American
hares, measuring from twenty-two to twenty-
eight inches; but it is more slenderly built than
the polar hare.
The Jack Hare group contains five species,
which in turn inhabit all portions of the south-
west quarter of the United States, as far north
as Oregon, as far east as Nebraska and Kansas,
and southward to Tehuantepec. Their num-
bers vary in different localities according to
circumstances. Wherever in any portion of
this vast range the coyotes and foxes 'are al-
most exterminated, the Jack Hares .soon in-
crease to an alarming extent. Men are begin-
ning to learn that it will not do to cut out too
many cogs from the great balance-wheel of.
Nature; for her affairs are so nicely adjusted
that even so apparently slight a matter as the
poisoning of coyotes may cause a great distur-
bance. In many portions of the Southwest the
Jack Hares are already a perfect pest.
In central and southern California the de-
struction of the carnivorous animals that usu-
ally keep rabbits in check has led to such an
alarming increase in "Jack Rabbits" that now
they constitute a genuine plague. In Fresno
and Kern counties they are so destructive to
young fruit-trees that the fruit-growers have
been compelled to adopt heroic measures for
their wholesale destruction. In the winter of
1892, Mr. C. H. Townsend reported to Forest
and Stream that in the great drive which took
place near Fresno about the middle of Febru-
ary, a tract of country containing about twenty
square miles was surrounded and swept over
by nearly 2000 horsemen, who closed in from
all sides, driving the game before them. About
I5,00o Jack Hares were thus forced, into a cen-
tral corral of wire, where they were killed with
clubs. During the previous winter more than
50,000 Jacks were killed in a series of drives
which were made near Bakersfield, Kern
County; and the worst of it was, the animals
were at that time not fit to eat.
The type of this group is found in the North-
ern Jack Hare, which is the largest of the five
species. Its long, springy legs and slender
body enable it to run with great swiftness.
Professor L. L. Dyche recently saw a fine trial
of speed between a good greyhound and a Jack
Hare in eastern Kansas, where the ground
was like a race-course, and the race was a fair
one. In a terrific run of about two and one
half miles the greyhound gained only about
seventy-five feet on the hare, and both ani-
mals were much exhausted. The chase ended
abruptly in a hollow log, which by the hare's
good luck had been left on the prairie; and
to the credit of all concerned I am glad to
state that the hare was not chopped out and
In so large a company as the Rabbit Group,
the choice of a type is always a little risky; but
I believe we are safe in selecting for that honor
our old friend and boyhood companion, the
GRAY RABBIT. Breathes there
GRAY RABBIT. a boy with soul so dead that
s syl-vh-cu.) e does not know Br'er Rab-
bit, either by personal acquaintance or by hear-
say ? Surely not in this country.
This abundant and persistent species is found
from New England and Minnesota all the way
as far south as Yucatan, with only the slightest
change in color (says Dr. J. A. Allen), and none
in size. At the same time, the scientific stu-
dents of the rabbit group recognize no fewer
than seven varieties, or subspecies, of the Gray
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
Rabbit, scattered throughout Mexico and the
All the true rabbits are much smaller than
the hares; their legs are short and weak in pro-
portion to the size of their bodies; but, in the
matter of self-preservation, what they lack in
speed and endurance they make up in cunning
and quickness. Both by nature and education,
the rabbit is an Artful Dodger. Often when
the jaws of the dog are in the act of closing
upon him, he suddenly bounds off sidewise at
a sharp angle, leaving the dog to flounder, pick
himself up, and start on the new course as soon
as he can. Many a rabbit has
saved himself from a whole pack
of hounds by suddenly crouching
close to the ground and allowing .
the pack to pile on over him, .
pell-mell, in utter confusion. After -
the cyclone of long legs, bodies,
and jaws has passed over him, he
picks himself up, scuds back the '
way he came, and soon finds a hole.
Just as small boats always keep
near shore, the short-legged rab-
bit is never found far from a hid-
ing-place of some sort. Nature
gave the Gray Rabbit a coat with
a color that is a very great pro-
tection to him; and when he
furls his ears and lies close to
the ground, one can sometimes actually step
over him without seeing that he is there.
The ways of this little creature have surprised
me many times; but he never actually par-
alyzed me with astonishment until one fine
spring day when the mowers in the Smithsonian
grounds were cutting the grass on the lawn, not
over a hundred feet from the National Museum
building. And there, on a bit of ground utterly
without shrubs, bushes, or even flowers, covered
with nothing but lawn grass, at that time only
four inches in height, with a busy roadway and
walk circling round on three sides, with the of-
fice of the Curator.of Mammals in easy stone's-
throw on the other, a shop full of deadly tax-
idermists and osteologists looming up on the
east, and dogs and bad boys literally swarming
all about,-there, on that naked lawn, was the
nest of a Gray Rabbit, containing four young
ones already so large that they filled the nest as
full as it would hold!
The nest itself was a shallow hole in the
ground, about as large as the crown of a straw
hat, lined at the bottom with a layer of fine,
soft grass, upon which was an inner lining of
fur, as soft as down, from the mother's own
The cunning little fellows were three and a
half inches long, but the scythe of the mower
went over them all without touching a hair.
And now, I ask you, how was it possible for a
creature so large as a rabbit to make a nest and
.' rear her young in such a bald and open
situation without being caught ? Clearly, she
visited them only at night. It was not quite
so risky as it would be to do the same thing in
Union Square, New York City, fairly under the
windows' of ST. NICHOLAS; but it was very
- -~--~ r;;-
BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS FOLKS.
nearly. But for the mowers, the chances are
.the nest would never have been discovered;
and mowing is always very unfair toward rabbits
and ground birds.
Every one knows how rapidly rabbits breed,
PIKA, OR LITTLE CHIEF HARE.
often raising three broods in one year. The
rabbit pest in Australia and New Zealand is
now recognized throughout the world as a na-
High up on nearly all the great mountain-
ranges of the West, from just below timber-line
to the line of perpetual snow, lives a little crea-
ture so strange in every way as to deserve spe-
cial notice. It is the NORTH AMERICAN PIKA,
commonly called the
NORTH AMERICAN PIKA. LITTLE CHIEF HARE
or CRYING. HARE, al-
though it is no hare at all, nor even a true rab-
bit. In form it stands about midway between
the gray rabbit and the guinea-pig. It has
very short legs and ears, no tail to speak of, and
neither speed nor activity. Its color is yellow-
ish brown mixed with gray. Its habits are but
very little known. It is always found inhab-
iting rugged masses of rocks, in the many
crevices of which it nests securely. It is much
given to crying, and often its sharp little cries
come from so many different points of its rocky
fortress at the same time as completely to con-
fuse the hunter. There are but two species of
pikas in North America, one of which is newly
In the forests of South America I often saw
a strange little animal, quite rabbit-like in its
habits, stealing timidly through the jungle or
scurrying away at great speed before the dogs.
It was the AGOUTI (pronounced a-goo'te),
four species of which are
AGOUTI. found in Mexico and Cen-
(Das-y-procata a-gou'i. }
tral America. Such was
their agility and fleetness that while we saw the
dogs start them at least twenty times, and pur-
sue them with an eagerness that was almost
pitiful, our canine companions 'never once suc-
ceeded in catching one.
The Agouti is shaped most strangely. It
has no tail whatever, and its hind quarters are
rounded off in such a perfect semicircle that its
back line actually runs down to the lower line
of its body. .In size it is about as large as a
small varying hare. It usually nests in holes
under tree-roots, to which it retreats when pur-
sued. It is a very cleanly animal in every way,
makes a very good pet when kept in a yard,
and its flesh is excellent eating.
Closely resembling the Agouti in form and
habits, but in size about three or four times as
large, is the PACA, which is found from Vera
Cruz, Mexico, southward to
PACA. the Amazon. This animal is
the only living representative
of the genus to which it belongs. Its habits
are exactly similar to those of the agouti; but
owing to its larger size, it is more easily cap-
tured by dogs, and is also more sought after by
the natives for food.. Its ground-color is chest-
K-3rJ r>KBER ER RABBIT A
nut-brown, on which is laid a curious arrange-
ment of white spots and stripes, as shown in the
THE CANADA PORCUPINE fairly rivals-the sloth
in stupidity and
CANADA PORCUPINE. helplessness; but
(Er-e-liE zon dor-sa'tus.) p l t e up
partly to make up
for his lack of brains and agility, Nature has
.ND HIS FOLKS. 429
able numbers, and often constitutes a campers'
plague. The stupid beasts are most persistent
camp-prowlers; and besides eating up every bit
of leather and greasy board that may lie out-
side, it is a common thing for them to gnaw
their way into a cabin, to get at the camper's
shoes, belts, or gun-case. Several instances are
on record wherein the wood-hog" has boldly
covered him with a coat of strong, needle-
pointed quills that hold nearly all his enemies,
except man, at a respectful distance. One good
mouthful of his keen barbs, which he kindly
gives away to all applicants who apply in per-
son, is enough to satisfy even a hungry puma.
More than one lynx and puma have been found
in the last stages of starvation, with the mouth
and throat full of porcupine quills.
The Canada Porcupine is found in all the
New England States, New York, Pennsylvania,
Ohio, and thence northwestward, and north-
ward as far as Fort Churchill on Hudson's
Bay. In the heavy forests of northern Maine,
Michigan, and Wisconsin it appears in consider-
tried to gnaw into a cabin at a window or door
while the owner was within, with his gun loaded
The Porcupine cannot shoot his quills, but
he can eat every twig off a hemlock tree, or
every speck of the bark from a thirty-foot beech,
and still be hungry. Like the ostrich, he eats
about everything that comes in his way, and is
always hungry for more. He has a bad habit
of girdling trees, and, like a sloth, will sometimes
hang for days on one tree, unless disturbed. It
is by no means uncommon for a large,. fat porcu-
pine to weigh from twenty-five to thirty pounds.
To white men the flesh is rank and unpalatable;
but Indians take kindly to it, of course.
A SPRING WISH.
MARCH wind, blowing cold and strong,
Do not tarry,- blow along;
Bring in April, bring in May.
March wind, blow the cold away!
'T Is March, and the winds are high;
The clouds are scurrying by,
And, peeping through,
One sees the blue,
As they go hurrying by.
For blow, blow,
Winter must go,
With the clouds that are hurrying by.
'T is March, and the winds are high;
But soon comes a summer sky;
The first bluebird
Has brought the word -
He sings of a summer sky.
Then blow, blow,
Winter must go,
And clouds must scatter and fly.
So says William Zachary Gladwin, in his verses
sent to this pulpit; and your Jack warmly seconds
WHAT is the longest and the shortest thing in
the world; the swiftest and the slowest; the most
divisible and the most extended; the least valued
and the most regretted; without which nothing can
be done; which devours everything, however small,
and yet gives life and spirit to all things, however
The answer will be given you next month, my
hearers; but get ahead of it, if you can.
TO HELP YOUR MEMORY.
ALICE MAY DOUGLAS sends this message to
you) my hearers:
"A great man has told us that, when reading,
he always stopped at the bottom of every page and
thought over what he had just read.
"If you do this, it may not make a great man
or woman of you; but it surely will improve your
memory, and at the same time help you to form a
very valuable habit."
HERE is a simple story, in straightforward rhyme,
that says precisely what it means to say. It was
written for this congregation by ANNIE E. TYNAN ;
and Deacon Green says if he were a school-boy
he would be tempted to learn it for a recitation
THE UNCLE FROM OVER THE SEA.
WILKINSON LUNN was sixty years old;
His coffers were full to their covers with gold,
His rent-roll was long as a baron could boast,
For he owned half a town on the New Jersey coast.
That he 'd earned it himself made his opulence
But he still needed something to make life com-
And, pondering the question, this answer he
To double a pleasure, divide it by two!
- I '1 look up my nephew," said Wilkinson Lunn,
"And if he is worthy I '11 make him my son."
In Manchester, England, a small, narrow street
Runs into a square where four broader ones meet.
It was far down this street, where stores looked ill-
Where stoops were untidy and sidewalks unswept,
That Wilkinson Lunn at last found a store
With the name of his nephew hung over the door.
A soiled scrap of paper was pinned to the jamb;
Itread: 'I'11be back in an hour. H. Lamb."
"An hour the uncle looked thoughtfully down.
"An hour?"-he lifted his head with a frown.
"An hour! "-he stamped as he read it again-
"My gem of a nephew, an hour from when? "
He peered through the finger-marked panes of
Saw a chair, an old pipe, and a scrap-littered floor.
He rattled the door-knob: it needed a screw;
He looked in the window: disorder there, too;
He stepped to the sidewalk, took one long survey,
Then shook his gray head and went sadly away.
The nephew came back to his pipe and his chair,
But never once dreamed of the guest who 'd been
He berated his luck -'t is the lazy man's way -
That his profits were small and his rent was to pay;
And he never once thought that his shortness of
Was due, not to.fortune, but just to himself.
If ever it happens that you keep a store,
Don't pin "I'll be back" to the jamb of the door,
But stay there, and keep both your wares and
As clean and attractive as new polished delf.
You will find that your trade soon will grow like
If your shop is 'well kept and you try hard to
And then, if he happens to come, there you '1 be
To welcome your uncle from over the sea.
MISS VIRGINIA SHARPE-PATTISON has writ-
ten to this Pulpit a letter describing "A Strange
Use of Trees," "Mr. Jack-rabbit in Winter," and
a few other matters:
How would your boys and girls, she asks, like to
have their mother's pantry of good things high up
in a tree instead of on the ground floor, as it is
in their well-regulated homes? It would be rather
an odd place for a larder, it is true; but the soldiers
in camp on Cannon Ball River a few winters ago
found it exceedingly convenient to step out of their
mess-tents and cut from a bough a few prairie-
chickens or rabbits which were there suspended,
ready for the cook's basting-spoon.
Once in a while, however, an ill-mannered cat
would get there before them, and lessen the number
of good things by stealing a nice pullet, and sneak-
ing off without even a purr of thanks.
Great white rabbits with fur soft as silk are
brought into camp for sale by the Indians who
are skilled in securing this game.
In winter Mr. Jack-rabbit looks like a snowball,
so perfectly white does his coat become during the
cold seasQn. This appears to be a wise provision
for his protection, as to an ordinary eye he is easily
confounded with the general whiteness of the land-
scape in that climate of hoar-frosts and blizzards.
But the wily red-skinned hunter is not so easily de-
ceived, and these winter rabbits are a constant means
of revenue to him when there is a camp of pale-faces
near by which he can supply with wild meats.
It must be owned that these copper-colored meat-
venders are not the artless children of the forest
pictured in the pages of Longfellow's Hiawatha "
-they know how to bargain and dicker almost as
well as if they had a drop or two of Yankee blood
in their veins. Before buying of them it is well
to know something of Indian arithmetic; and old
Black Bull, whose Indian name is Tatankasapa,"
will graciously teach you that wahzhee means I;
nopo, 2; yaminee, 3; topah, 4; zaptah, 5; shako-
pee, 6; shakoin, 7; shakalocha, 8; nuptchoakah,
9; wickchuminee, o1. After obtaining this infor-
mation, customers must look out for themselves.
I )t~v'j~ cA.coN -. *.-. Y '*'. *
~.-i,~9a~-,~6~Q~ r ,
A MOONLIGHT FROLIC.
WHEN BEDTIME COMES TOO SOON.
B:, Ti-iOM.-, T.-\rPE r..
THE clocks don't kno\\ th,-ir A B C's.
And so the\ cannot spell,
But yet the\ co:,unt much more than I.
And seem to count quite w\\ll.
But what good so much
I'd really like to knovi -
Just sending pec.l:,l, otf
Before they want to go!
0 Jl l C
THE GREEDY TOAD.
By ELIZA S. TURNER.
DOWN in the long grass, as snug as a mole,
He called from his little h, o, 1, e, hole:
"Oh, Ma, have you any m, e, a, t, meat?
I seem to want something to e, a, t, eat."
" Oh, I won't have a bug, or such t, o, y, toy.
I want bread and meat like a b, o, y, boy.
No, I won't have a fly nor a b, u, g, bug,
But m, i, 1, k, milk from a j, u, g, jug."
" Then out with your tongue, and t, r, y, try A t, o, a, d, toad want m, i, 1, k, milk ?
To capture a bug or an f, 1, y, fly." You '11 next want a coat of s, i, 1, k, silk!
WHEN BEDTIME COMES TOO SOON.
B:, Ti-iOM.-, T.-\rPE r..
THE clocks don't kno\\ th,-ir A B C's.
And so the\ cannot spell,
But yet the\ co:,unt much more than I.
And seem to count quite w\\ll.
But what good so much
I'd really like to knovi -
Just sending pec.l:,l, otf
Before they want to go!
0 Jl l C
THE GREEDY TOAD.
By ELIZA S. TURNER.
DOWN in the long grass, as snug as a mole,
He called from his little h, o, 1, e, hole:
"Oh, Ma, have you any m, e, a, t, meat?
I seem to want something to e, a, t, eat."
" Oh, I won't have a bug, or such t, o, y, toy.
I want bread and meat like a b, o, y, boy.
No, I won't have a fly nor a b, u, g, bug,
But m, i, 1, k, milk from a j, u, g, jug."
" Then out with your tongue, and t, r, y, try A t, o, a, d, toad want m, i, 1, k, milk ?
To capture a bug or an f, 1, y, fly." You '11 next want a coat of s, i, 1, k, silk!
FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.
You 're losing your w, i, t, s, wits!"
And she laughed herself into f, i, t, s, fits.
But still he cried out: "I shall d, i, e, die,
If I don't get some milk and some p, i, e, pie."
" Here, take it," she cried in a p, e, t,'pet;
"And sick enough of it you '11 g, e, t, get."
And oh, at his first 1, i, c, k, lick,
He found himself growing s, i, c, k, sick.
And still, as he ate like a p, i, g, pig,
He seemed to be swelling too b, i, g, big;
And over the milk-it 's t, r, u, e, true--
He choked himself almost, b, 1, u, e, blue:
And at the sixth quarter of p, i, e, pie,
He looked just as if he should d, i, e, die.
And soon he called out: B, r, e, a, d, bread,"
And shouted: "I'm almost d, e, a, d, dead."
Said she: "I was right, you f, i, n, d, find;
Now next time perhaps you '11 m, i, n, d,mind."
- ,l ...-.
By E. M. WINSTON.
ON the road to London town! My good wife Joan the breakfast got,
We made an early start: 'And dressed the baby, too;
As soon as morning dawned I put So now we are dashing on to town,-
The old gray to the cart. Oh, don't you wish 't was you?
VOL. XXII.- 55.
RHYMES OF THE STATES.
BY GARRETT NEWKIRK.
Ohi. is proud of cities three,
The name of each begins with C.
She 's also given Presidents three,
Their names beginning with H or G.
'T is a -land of farms, and homes, and schools,
A land where law and order rules. -- -- "
Remember her capital's name, to know
Who found America, long ago.
Now tell thename -or pay a fine- i P
Of th' river along her southern line. '
By looking sharp, you will not fail t *. ,i-
In Erie Lake to find a whale.
RHYMES OF THE STATES.
. ,, .
Indiana was named for the Indians,
Because, when the country was new,
They were there by hundreds and thousands-
And exceedingly troublesome, too,
Till General. Harrison whipped them
In the battle of Tippecanoe.
'T is now a rich country for farming,
Where children arise with the sun,
And race all about in the orchards
And meadows, with frolic and fun,
Never caring how many great railroads
To Indianapolis run.
Some of her thriving cities
As frontier outposts began;
Fort Wayne was named for a general
Who at Stony Point charged in the van,
'And afterward conquered the Indians,-
A gallant and soldierly man.
BOERNE, KENDALL COUNTY, TEXAS.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little English girl four-
teen years old. I came to America eleven years ago.
I lived two years in New York State, and from there I
came down South, and am living at present in Texas,
about twenty-seven-iniles north of San Antonio and three
miles south of a little town called Boerne. I was very
glad when I came South, the winters are so long and cold
in New York.
I have had horses to ride ever since I have been here,
and this year a little Spanish pony was given me for my
own. I ride him to school every day-a distance of three
miles there and back. I call him Hotspur, he is so fiery.
I have taught him a number of tricks since I have owned
him. One of these tricks is to paw the ground when I
touch one of his front legs. Another is to turn up his
nse when offered something he does not like. If I snap
my fingers together he will sometimes prance on his hind
legs. We have several cats on the ranch. One is very
intelligent. He has been taught to put up his paw when
asked, and will beg for his food very prettily. It is a
sight to see. We have a pet deer who will beg too for
his food. When he stands straight up he is taller than
I have taken ST. NICHOLAS for four years straight
ahead, and my sisters took you for two or three years
before. Your admiring friend,
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Marion H- and I thought
we would write to you so our letters could be printed.
You -have been in our family ever since you came out,
but none of us has ever written. I am sixteen. My
birthday came on the day after Election Day.
I went to a Hallowe'en party, and, according to my for-
tunes that night, I am to have six husbands. I do not
want even one.
I liked the story of Decatur and Somers," but was
sorry it ended as it did. I like the short stories;
FANNIE W. H-.
,WASHINGTON, D. C.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As I spent last summer in
Europe, perhaps your readers would like to hear about
the queer Punch and Judy shows they have in the Tui-
leries gardens in Paris.
In the first place, they are nothing like ours, as they
have regular little plays with no Punch or Judy, and have
a little stage curtain and scenery, just like a theater.
The plays are short and almost all different, following
one another with only about five minutes' interval.
The only resemblance to a Punch and Judy show that
I can see is that they have puppets that are moved with
The little theater is out of doors, though inclosed by a
After we had seen two or three plays which I enjoyed
very much (though in French, and very bad French at
that), we went over to a stand where a man was making
a sort of hot waffles, charging one cent apiece, and they
were worth it. It seemed that we were not the only ones
who enjoyed them, as he was kept busy making them.
The French children have very nice times, but consider-
ing everything in France I would rather live in America.
Hoping you share my opinion, 1 am your affectionate
reader, MARY F. S- .
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl twelve years
old. I traveled through Europe three years ago, and I
had a lovely time. We first went to Holland, and it was
so funny to see all the women with little wires sticking
out of their caps and people wearing wooden shoes.
The next place we went to was Cologne, Germany, and
the cathedral there is beautiful. When we went to the
hotel at night my grandma asked for a glass of ice-water.
The girl looked at her, and said: Ice-water! What is
that? I never heard of it before." Then we went to Paris,
and after staying there three months we came back home
on the French line; the name of the ship was the Cham-
pagne." We had a very rough voyage, and one night the
captain thought that the ship was going to sink, and they
had all the life-saving boats down; but after a while the
storm was all over, and nothing happened until we saw
land again, and we arrived in New York safely.
I like your magazine very much, and especially the
story of "Decatur and Somers," because Commodore
Preble was my grandfather's cousin.
I remain your loving little reader, ALICE G- .
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking you ever
since the Wide Awake was merged in ST. NICHOLAS.
My brother Royal has a printing-press and a camera.
Every summer we go to our grandpa's home in Syracuse,
N. Y. We go from there to a little country town called
Brewerton, about fifteen miles from the city. Grandpa
has a large boat-house, a steam-launch, and two row-
boats. This winter our grandpa is building a large
house-boat with which we will go camping next summer.
The house-boat's name is "Bonnycastle "; she was chris-
tened last Saturday. Ever your interested reader,
OWEN A. T-.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Just after school began I re-
ceived a fine wheel. I have had many a fine ride on it
since. Its pneumatic tires glide over the ground like the
wind. In the summer of 1893 we went to the World's
Fair. We live about five miles from the shore of Lake
Michigan, so we took the steamer to Chicago. We thought
we were going to have a fine ride on the great lake, but
nearly every one on board but the ship-hands and myself
was sick. I had a fine time at fhe Fair, but when night
came I was glad to tumble into bed after the long day's
There is a little river back of our house, and I have
learned to swim quite well in it.
I go to school, and am in the seventh grade. We have
just had our quarterly examinations.
I remain your loving friend and reader,
WE reprint herewith from a copy of the New York
Sun an account of the later adventures of Owney," the
"dog of the U. S. mails," a history of whose life and
wanderings was printed in the number of ST. NICHOLAS
for March, 1894.
OWNEY, THE DOG OF THE POSTAL CARS.
HE HAD HIS THANKSGIVING DINNER IN PROVIDENCE,
AND IS STILL TRAVELING.
NEW LONDON, CONN.
OWNEY, the celebrated mail dog, who is still traveling
all the time in postal cars, fetched up in this city on
Thanksgiving night, having come in from Providence on
the 6:40 evening train. He had spent the famous Puri-
tan festal day in the capital of the Rhode Island planta-
tions, and Uncle Sam's boys in gray there had stuffed
him so full of turkey, goose, with injurious stuffin'"
and "fixin's," that Owney could hardly waddle coming
off the car. Still he was just as independent as ever; his
distended hide glistened with the after effect of good
cheer, and his one eye rolled and sparkled with the joy
that goes with the Yankee festival. His other eye is up
in Canada somewhere; he dropped it there in an accident
a couple of years ago, in company with three or four
cords of mail matter that were stacked up here and there
along the line of the railway.
Owney is a small dog, but full of sand and grit, and
he bristles all over with business enterprise and an inde-
fatigable ambition and determination to look out for
Uncle Sam's postal affairs in every part of this country
all at once. It 's a big undertaking, and keeps the poor
dog worried and on the wing all the time, like the Wan-
dering Jew or the Flying Dutchman.
No one knows just how many years Owney has been
on the road. A long time ago he belonged to a citizen
of Albany, and had a good time of it there, and a good
home; but, curiously, one day he embarked in the pro-
fession and mission that now use up all his time, and
has traveled incessantly since then. He wears a broad,
handsome collar that his friends, postal-car clerks, gave
him, and it tinkles when he moves with a multitude of
tin tags inscribed with the names of some of the places
he has visited.
It is believed he has traveled on about every railroad
in America.. He will ride in none but postal cars. In one
of those cars he crouches on a pile of mail-sacks; and
having reached his temporary destination, determined by
caprice or an inscrutable resolution on his part, he hops
out of the car and proceeds to do the towp. A postal
clerk invariably is assigned to go with him and help him
about the chore, and the clerk always gives him a good
meal, but no one essays to detain him. Having allayed
his interest or curiosity about a place, and led by his inex-
plicable motives or whims, the wonderful dog boards a
railroad train and resumes his seemingly endless journey-
ings. He passes through the Nutmeg State, as a rule,
twice or three times a year.
His immense and sumptuous Thanksgiving spread in
Providence was just about too much for him, and, when
he arrived in New London, Owney actually turned up his
nose at the fat of the land here. In fact, when Railroad
Agent Buckley set out a big, thick, luscious porterhouse
steak for him, Owney sniffed at it once, and sauntered
away with a regretful and disconsolate look. "If he
could have spoken," observed Agent Buckley, "he would
have said, ''T ain't no use, ole man; I'm stuffed!'"
Owney slid out of town on the "owl train" long after
midnight. At one o'clock that morning he was sleeping
tranquilly on a small hill of mail-bags in the railroad sta-
tion, waiting for his postal car to roll in. It is known
that he has been on the road about twelve years, and.
begins to look a trifle old.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I enjoy the letters you publish
from children so much that I want to write to you my-
self. I have an uncle and a cousin who write long and
short stories for ST. NICHOLAS. My uncle has often put
my name and my sister's in his stories, and it seems very
strange to come across our names when we read them.
We have lived in many different places; but a great deal
of our time we pass on our grandfather's plantation.
We are very much interested in getting what my little
brother calls "curiousosities" for our museum. The
nicest thing we have is a piece of petrified wood that my
little sister Annie found. We have some Indian arrow-
heads that we picked up, and a stone just like an ame-
thyst, that was found near here. Mother says if we do
not lose our interest in our museum she is going to give
us a piece of French money she has with the head of the
Emperor Napoleon on it--the same Napoleon that is in
the "Boy of the First Empire," which I am so much
interested in. We had a little dried sea-horse that father
brought us from Mobile Bay, where he was surveying
one winter. We did not know what to do with it at first,
and now that we want it for our museum we cannot
I am eleven years old, and I don't think I can ever do
without ST. NICHOLAS again. I have two little friends
named Anita and Elise, who live near here, and they take
ST. NICHOLAS too. We talk and write about the peo-
ple in the stories as if they were real people. Good-by.
Your devoted reader, EVELYN B- .
WE take pleasure in printing the following letter and
verses that come from a little subscriber whose picture
appeared in ST. NICHOLAS more than six years ago, when
the young poet was only a baby.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl seven and a
half years old.
I am the little girl whose picture came in the Novem-
ber ST. NICHOLAS, 1888, called Sucha ComicalWorld! "
JEANNETTE C. K--.
P. S. I send some poetry to you that I wrote myself.
LITTLE snowdrops are always the first
In shady nooks their buds to burst.
WHY, little violet, do you come so early,
With all your blossoms so white and pearly,
And all the fairness of your face
Lifted up in heavenly grace?
THE CHRISTMAS BALL.
ST. NICHOtAS had given a Christmas ball.
The first to come was "Toinette's Philip," who had
"Lady Jane" on his arm,-" Lord Fauntleroy" and
"Dea," "Donald and Dorothy," "Juan and Juanita"
following. And after them who should come but the
They were just from the mountains, and wished to go
on as fast as possible; but they felt that they could spare
time to attend ST. NICHOLAS'S Christmas ball.
Every one of them was there. Next who should come
but dear old Santa himself!
They had a very merry time at the ball, and all, when
they wished their host good night, wished that they might
be there every Christmas night. MATTIE G- .
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a boy thirteen years old.
It is forty miles to our nearest railroad and town. I
have taken you four years, and enjoy you very much.
My father has a great number of cattle, and I often go
on the round-up with him. I have two horses and a gun.
One day I killed a bear that was running away with a
pig. I shot a deer about a week ago. I have a little
brother ten years old. There are lots of wolves about
here, and they get many of our young calves.
I shall ever remain your loving reader,
GEORGE EDSALL M-.
MOKELUMNE HILL, CAL.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Formerly we lived in Portland,
Oregon, and left this last year just before the flood, which
covered the streets nearest the river.
We first went to Oakland, where we stayed ten days,
during which time we visited the Midwinter Fair. The
Japanese village interested me most.
There are but two children in our family. I am the
oldest, eleven; and my brother's age is four.
Then we went to a ranch 'and mine combined, where
we stayed a few months. I went down a shaft two hun-
dred feet deep in a great iron bucket.
Then we came here. We brought two cats and a dog
with us. There are burros running loose all around here,
and if you want a ride you can go and catch one, which is
easier said than done, for they often present their heels.
As we have been moving about for quite a while, I
have not received my magazines for six months; but I
look forward with pleasure to the time when I shall get
my bound volume.
From a devoted reader, who hopes you will prosper.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are e great admirers of your
magazine. We have seen many letters from different
States in the Union, but very few from Minnesota; so.
we thought we would write to you.
Our brother Jack has returned from college, and he is
continually telling us funny stories he has heard while at
school Here are two of.them:
"One day, passing by a china-store, an Irishman saw
the sign, China fired here to-day.' He misinterpreted
the sign, and said to himself: 'Shure, Mr. Shina, Oi 'm
sorry for yez; but I '11 be after applying for the job.' "
"A doctor was called to the home of an Irishman one
day, and prescribed some powders to be taken in water.
The next day he came again, and, being told that his
patient was in the bedroom, he entered. Upon enter-
ing he saw the Irishman in a bath-tub, and exclaimed:
'Why, Patrick, what are you doing there? "
Pat replied: Faith and did n't you tell me to take
my medicine in weather ? "
We have taken you for over five years, and enjoy all
your stories very much. We remain your constant
readers, DOROTHY H-- .
KATHARINE H- .
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl eight years
old, and thought I should like to write you a letter. My
papa thought some good books would be better than to
use tobacco, so we have The Century and ST. NICHO.
LAS, and he says it was a good trade. We live on a farm
near a school-house. The schools are numerous and
good here, and I like to go every day. We have great
fun playing in the hay-shed, and sometimes my sister
Ethel and my brother Donald and myself go out in the
field to call papa to dinner. He lets us ride the plow-
horses, "Dick," "Joe," and "Topsy," three abreast.
Topsy has a Golt three years old, named Fibby Winks,"
after Mr. Tarvin's horse in the story written partly by
Mr. Kipling. We are glad he is to write some more for
ST. NICHOLAS. Your loving reader,
MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you about
a place we were in this summer.; the name of it is Zer-
matt, Switzerland; it is a lovely old town, five thousand
feet above the level of the sea, and it is surrounded by
snow-capped mountains; it has one little, narrow street
running through it, and on either side of it there are
little huts built for stores. A good many people go up
the mountains on donkeys, as they are the most sure-
footed animals. It is very cold there in the winter time;
the poor people nearly freeze, as they have no means of
heating their houses as we do. A long life to you, ST.
NICHOLAS, and a happy one, is the wish of your loving
friend, LILIAN W- .
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I would like to tell you about
my summer vacation. My grandma and I go to Ossipee,
N. H., summers. We can stand at the back door and
with a small field-glass can see the cars go up Mount
Washington. It looks like a great elephant slowly
climbing up. I had also a number of pets; I had seven-
teen fish about an inch long, which I caught in a tin dip-
per; but they lived only two days. I forgot to change
their water night and morning. Then I had sixteen tad-
poles, or polliwogs, which lived twelve weeks. I brought
them to Boston with me, but steam-heat did not agree
with them. I had a cat and two kittens, and also a pug-
dog called Mischief."
Your loving reader, LILLIAN D- .
WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
pleasant letters received from them: E. L. G., James R.
G.,lard., Willard E. R., Harry S. M., Charlotte W. C., Hope,
Robert G. B., Hugh D., Myra H. T., Kate Van D., J.
Morris S., Donald J. W., Jr., Ridgway M. G., Henry C.
W., Marguerite M., Leola J., W. Leavitt S., Dorothea G.,
James S. R., Jr., Mabel W. 0., Jay F., Mary L. P. and
Helen L. K., Florence E. T., Mary G. R., Lester C. B.,
Ruth B., Louise D. M., Mercedes P., Jessie H. R., Ger-
trude F., Iola K. W., Adele B., Marguerite H., M. E. B.,
Lena H., Edna S. 0., Hillary M. Z., Roy M., N. D. F.
and B. L. E., Scott McN., Marian M., Leontine R., Zai-
dee P., Katherine S., Hally H., "Valentin and Valen-
tine," Henry K., Robert S. D., Mary S. S., Charlotte
E. C., P. B., Rose B., MayW. B., Ray H. J., Raynal W.,
Wm. P. K., Genevieve G., Dean E. P., Alice N., Bessie
E. B., Linda M. S., Dorothy E. W., Francis H. R., Ma-
rian-T., Edith M., and Nora B.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN
RHYMED NUMERICAL ENIGMA. Rudyard Kipling.
HOUR-GLASS. Greeley. Cross-words: x. Dragons. 2. Lurch.
3. Beg. 4. E. 5. Ell. 6. Cheat. 7. Prayers.
PENTAGONS. I. I. C. 2. Mar. 3. Mural. 4. Carotid, 5. Rather.
6. Liege. 7. Dreyr II. I. M. 2. Eat. 3. Ethet 4. Mahomet.
5. Temple. 6. Relax. 7. Text.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, Beatrice; finals, Madeline. Cross-
words: I. Bream. 2. Extra. 3. Aided. 4. Trite. 5. Rowel. 6. Iceni.
7. Crown. 8. Endue.-- RrDDLE. The letter R.
ILLUSTRATED PRIMAL ACROSTIC. Texas. i. Thoth. 2. Egret 3.
Xebec. 4. Anvil. 5. Snail.--ANAGRAM. Oliver Wendell Holmes.
TRIPLE ACROSTIC. Primals, beside; centrals, nature; finals, ten-
der. Cross-words: i. Blanket. 2. Enhance. 3. Sixteen. 4. Insured.
5. Deprive. 6. Emperor.
THE FEBRUARY NUMBER.
DIAMOND. I. C. 2. Bad. 3. Caned. 4. Baronet. 5. Canoni-
cal. 6. Denizen. 7. Decem. 8. Tan. 9. L.
ZIGZAG. Ole Bomemann Bull. Cross-words: I. Oder. 2. Elbe.
3. Keen. 4. Crab. 5. Frog. 6: Brag. 7. Nine. 8. Beak. 9. Como.
o1. Jena. I. Gang. 12. Anon. x3. Boon. 14. Hugo. 15. Sulk.
16. Coil.-- RHYMED TRANSPOSITIONS. Eros, rose, sore, ores.
HIDDEN MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. I. Cornet. 2. Organ. 3. Pi-
ano. 4. Banjo. 5. Drum. 6. Mandolin. 7. Lyre. 8. Spinet.
9. Zither. io. Horn.--AN ENIGMA. Valentine's Day.
CONNECTED SQUARES. I. I. Them. 2. Hale. 3. Else. 4. Meet.
II. i. Seat. 2. Etch. 3. Ache. 4. They. III. I. Here. 2. Eyes.
3. Reap. 4. Espy.
PREFIXES AND SUFFIXES. I. S-pine-s. 2. S-pie-s. 3. S-ham-s.
4. W-he-w. 5. L-eve-l. 6. S-tore-s. 7. T-hough-t.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the i5th 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 DECEMBER NUMBER were received, before December s1th, from Paul Reese-"M.
McG."-Alice Mildred Blanke and Co.-Josephine Sherwood-" Will 0. Tree"--Ella and Co.-Isabel, Mama, and Jamie -W. L.-Paul
Rowley-Helen C. McCleary-Violet Smith Green-Louise Ingham Adams-Jo and I-Hubert L.'Bingay-"Jersey Quartette"-
"Three Browmes "- Helen Rogers -" Emblam"- Pearl F. Stevens Isabella W. Clarke Blanche and Fred-"Wee Three"-" Hill
Top Farm"-" Tod and Yam "-Robert and Jennie L.-" Tip Cat"- Marjorie Cole -Jessie Chapman and John Fletcher.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN 'THE DECEMBER NUMBER were received, before December z5th, from Mary E. Murray and Clara V.
McConnell, i -Nettie Comstock,. I -Hal Dunbar, i-"Jack Spratt," 2- Elizabeth and Augusta, I-James Hussey, Hugh McN.
Killer, 2-- Laura Page, I G. B. Dyer, 7-Papa, Victor, and Fred, 3- Helen Diehl, i Genevieve Still, I Eleanor A. Stevens, 2 -
Lucy Murray and I, 2-"Me and Jack," x-Ethel M. C., 3-No Name, Logansport, 6-Mary F. Stone, 6-Adelaide M. Gaithen, 3-
"Toots and Gogga," 5 -Harriet McKnight, 3-" Two Scranton Boys," 2-- Alice Adams, Florence S. Wheeler, i-A. M. J., 7-Alice
R. S., 3-Mary H. Ricketts, I -Charles R. Cockey, 4--Carl Comstock, I -Therese Baumgart, i -Mama and Sadie, 7--Everett A.
Brown, i Charlie and Ella, i -" Harold Washburn, 7 Charles Dwight Reid, i Rosebud Fannie Michaels, 2-- A. W. S., x -Asa M.
Parker, ix-Edward W. Hamill, 4-Beatrice H. Staats, 5-Eugene Walter, 4-Nelson Weeks, -Lovell and Bonnie Rhodes, 2-
Robert H. Jacobs, 2--Karl B., x-Kenneth Lewis, i--Effie K. Talboys, 5-Walter H. Angell, 3--Susie N. E., 2--Burtie Ben-
ham, 4 -Leah J. S., 4-J. C. and F. S. Sill, i -Franklyn Fansworth, 7-Ruth Robinson, 4-Harold A. Knowles, i-Alma Maass, x-
Harold Wilson, Jr., 1- Fred and Gordon Brown, 5-A. P. 0. and another, Berwyn, 3- Gertrude Rutherford, i-"The W. C. W. H.
and H. C. Durrell,"3-JamesR. J. Kindelon, -Papa, A. andH., 3-Geo. S. Seymour, 7- M. Noble, 3-Edwin Irvine Haines, 5-
Marguerite Hawkins, 2-Claudice Luther, 3-Helen A. Sturdy, 7-Daisy Alien, 2-"Two Little Maids from School," 3-"Merry
and Co.," 6-"The Butterflies," 2-Maude and Harry, 7-Two Little Brothers, 7-Hansand Otto Wolkwitz, 2-R. 0. B., 5-Albert
Smith Faught, 5 Jean D. Egleston, 5-" The Rambler," 3- Clara H. Phillips, 4 -" September Gale," i Bernard Breeden, 2 Edith
and Muriel Gould, 5--Mama, Howard, and Carrie, 3 -Addison Neil Clark, 4 -" Old Mother Hubbard," 4--Clara A. Anthony, 7-
Laurence Crockett, Sybil Palgrave, 3.
ILLUSTRATED PRIIMAL ACROSTIC.
THE words pictured are of unequal length. When
rightly guessed and placed one below the other, the ini-
tials will spell the name of a famous poet.
ALL of the words described contain the same number
of letters. When these are rightly guessed, and placed
one below another, in the order here given, the zigzag,
beginning at the upper left-hand letter,will spell the name
of an annual celebration in honor of a famous bishop.
CROSS-WORDS: I. Mentally sound. 2. Any cause of
ruin. 3. To cut lengthwise. 4. A young deer. 5. A
bird of prey. 6. The angular summit of anything. 7. In
addition. 8. A particle. 9. To keep in check. o1. A
city of Italy, the scene of one of Napoleon's victories.
II. A measure of length. 12. Allied by nature. 13. To
examine with care. 14. A whirlpool. 15. To wear into
shreds by rubbing. 16. To surfeit. L. W.
I. AN insect. 2. On the point or verge of. 3. A
French pronoun. 4. A beautiful city of Italy. 5. A
number. G. B. DYER.
I AM composed of seventy-seven letters, and am a quo-
tation from "The Rambler," by Johnson.
My 24-41-62 is to bind. My 11-47-56-71 is to try.
My 36-59-5-8 is an obligation. My I5-74-51-28 is to
utter peevish expressions. My 39-3-67-33 is four gills.
My 76-64-20-14-44 is to walk with affected dignity.
My 7-58-42-16-52 is larceny. My 61-10-32-40-69-30
is a frame or stand having three legs. My 75-2-66-25
is a territory. My 54-26-1-22-6 is one of the United
States. My 53-63-34-37-49 is another State. My 45-
13-19-55-23-72 is a city in the State of New York. My
46-21-4-77-31-35 is a city in Massachusetts. My 50-
29-68-73-38-27-60 if one of the United States. My
18-12-57-65-17-48-70-9-43 is a city in the State of New
York, famous for its water-power. L. W.
ALL the words pictured contain the
same number of letters. When rightly
guessed and placed one below the other,
in the order above given, the diagonal (from
the upper left-hand letter to the lower right-hand letter)
will spell the name of a French geometrician, philoso-
pher, and writer. JOHN R.
O DAS-DEVICO swind hatt higs taubo ym rodo!
I norum thiw ey het shour hatt ear on reom.
Ym thear si rawey fo eht senull kys,
Het selfsale crashben dan eht fronze pinal;
I glon ot rhea het seartile dwil-brids rye.
Dan ese het heart ni slagmode ereng igana.
THE letters represented by stars spell the surname of
a famous poet.
CROSS-WORDS: I. A slow-moving person or thing. 2.
A black man. 3. To restrict to a scant allowance. 4. A
sign of authority. 5. Breathes quick and hard. 6.
Dreary. 7. To cut into thin pieces. 8. In a line with.
9. A measure of weight. Io. Mourning garments.
I 'M oft a skin that wraps around;
I 'm often, too, a cry for aid;
Or haply I may be the sound
A swiftly wagging tongue has made.
ANNA M. PRATT.
ALL of the words described contain the same number
of letters; when rightly guessed, and placed one below
another, in the order here given, the central row of let-
ters, reading downward, will spell a word meaning shore-
CROSs-woRDS: I. A boat. 2. Sundered. 3. To run
with speed. 4. A mammal having a single
hoof on each foot. 5. To make dark. 6.
Unfastened. 7. Pompous. 8. Conjec-
tured. 9. To calumniate. Io. To inflame
with anger. H. W.
EACH blank is to be filled by a word of six letters.
No two words are alike, though the same six letters,
properly arranged, may be used to make the seven
Upon the board a plain * was spread;
A few dim * glimmered overhead;
Low murmured * from the monks were
The surly stranger uttered not a word.
"Why * thou the cheese ? the abbot said.
"This fellow *,* ." The stranger sneered
"Oi 'm shure he 's not a * *," the porter
Some * ballots in his hand Oi shpied."
E. T. C.
REARRANGE the numbers given in the column in such
a way that, reading by sound, one or more words may
be formed. For instance, when the figure I, now placed
before the syllable phy" is placed before the syllable
"der," the word "wonder" will be formed. What are
the remaining words ?
ALICE I. H.
EXAMPLE: Positive, a boy; comparative, a portable
frame for ascending or descending. Answer, lad, ladder.
I. Positive, a relish; comparative, a small dish.
2. Positive, an excrescence; comparative, a liquid.
3. Positive, a kind of pastry; comparative, a tyrant.
4. Positive, a person at whom ridicule is directed;
comparative, something always on the breakfast-table.
,5. Positive, a creature that lives on insects; compara-
tive, to pound.
6. Positive, a rug; comparative, substance.
7. Positive, part of the body; comparative, a river
8. Positive, a famous city; comparative, a wanderer.
9. Positive, a market; comparative, one who makes a
great sacrifice for the sake of principle.
o1. Positive, a bird; comparative, a peddler.
MARY F. STONE.
THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.
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