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diff --git a/28790-h/28790-h.htm b/28790-h/28790-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f05864 --- /dev/null +++ b/28790-h/28790-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2805 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Harper's Young People, April 20, 1880, by Various. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, April 20, 1880, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Harper's Young People, April 20, 1880 + An Illustrated Weekly + +Author: Various + +Release Date: May 13, 2009 [EBook #28790] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, APR 20, 1880 *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SIM_VEDDERS_KITE"><b>SIM VEDDER'S KITE.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#TWO_NARROW_ESCAPES"><b>TWO NARROW ESCAPES.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACROSS_THE_OCEAN_OR_A_BOYS_FIRST_VOYAGE"><b>ACROSS THE OCEAN; OR, A BOY'S FIRST VOYAGE.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ROYAL_BLACKSMITH"><b>THE ROYAL BLACKSMITH.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_BLUE_GROTTO"><b>THE BLUE GROTTO.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_ALBATROSS"><b>THE ALBATROSS.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_BEAR_STORY"><b>A BEAR STORY.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#PROFESSIONAL_DIVERS"><b>PROFESSIONAL DIVERS.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#JOE"><b>JOE.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BUMBLE-BEE"><b>MR. THOMPSON AND THE BUMBLE-BEE.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_GEORGE_WASHINGTON"><b>THE STORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#PUCK_AND_BLOSSOM"><b>PUCK AND BLOSSOM.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX"><b>OUR POST-OFFICE BOX</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_PENGUIN_PUZZLE"><b>THE PENGUIN PUZZLE.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHARADE"><b>CHARADE.</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="1000" height="386" alt="Banner: Harper's Young People" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 100%;' /> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Vol</span>. I.—<span class="smcap">No</span>. 25.</td><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York</span>.</td><td align='right'><span class="smcap">Price Four Cents</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tuesday, April 20, 1880.</td><td align='center'>Copyright, 1880, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>.</td><td align='right'>$1.50 per Year, in Advance.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style='width: 100%;' /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 588px;"><a name="SIM_VEDDERS_KITE" id="SIM_VEDDERS_KITE"></a> +<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="588" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>SIM VEDDER'S KITE.</h2> + +<h3>BY W. O. STODDARD.</h3> + +<p>The kite fever visited Hagarstown every year, and caught all the boys +over five before it subsided. It generally crept in slowly, a boy and a +kite at a time; but this year it came as if a big wind brought it.</p> + +<p>Yesterday there had been three kites up at one time in the main street, +and Squire Jones's pony had been scared into a canter. The Squire, and +Mrs. Jones, and the three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> Misses Jones, and Aunt Hephzibah had all been +in the carry-all at the time, and they had all screamed when the pony +began to canter. So the Squire had told the boys he "could not have any +more of that dangerous nonsense in the streets," and they had all come +out to Dr. Gay's pasture, on the side-hill, to-day, and they had eight +kites among them.</p> + +<p>"Sim Vedder's coming, boys," said Parley Hooker. "He's been making a +kite."</p> + +<p>"He?" exclaimed Joe Myers. "He's a grown-up man. What does he know about +kites?"</p> + +<p>"There he comes now, anyway."</p> + +<p>They all turned toward the bars and looked, for not one of them had sent +up his kite yet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a kite!"</p> + +<p>"It's as tall as he is."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't. He's carrying it on his shoulder."</p> + +<p>"It's just an awful kite."</p> + +<p>Sim Vedder was the man who worked for Dr. Gay, and he was as thin as a +fence rail. So was his face, and his hooked nose had a queer twist in it +half way to the point.</p> + +<p>He was coming with what looked like an enormous kite trying all the +while to get away from him.</p> + +<p>All the boys wanted to ask questions, but they didn't know exactly what +to ask, so they kept still.</p> + +<p>"Kiting, are you? Well, just you let me look at your kites, and then you +may look at mine. One at a time, now. Keep back. Make that kite +yourself, Parley?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I made it."</p> + +<p>"Had plenty of wood around your house, I guess. Your sticks are bigger +than mine, and your kite is only two feet high, and mine's five. Look at +it."</p> + +<p>He turned the back of his kite toward them as he spoke, and they saw +that the frame-work of it was made of a number of very slender slips of +what looked like ash or hickory wood.</p> + +<p>"Mine's made of pine," said Parley. "And yours'll break, too."</p> + +<p>"No, it won't. Well, maybe yours'll fly. Set it agoing. There's plenty +of wind."</p> + +<p>Parley obeyed, and, mainly because there was indeed a good deal of wind, +his heavy-made kite began to go up.</p> + +<p>"Joe," said Sim Vedder, "hand me that kite of yours."</p> + +<p>"Mine's a di'mond. I don't know how to make any other."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose it'll stand steady, with those fore-bands so close +together? No, it won't. Up with it, and see how it'll wiggle. Bob Jones, +is that yours?"</p> + +<p>The third kite was meekly handed to him, for the more the boys stared at +Sim's big kite, the more they believed he knew what he was talking +about.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a bad kite, but those fore-bands are crossed too low. It'll +dive all over."</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of tail, Sim. It can't dive."</p> + +<p>"Tail!—and a bunch of May-weed at the end of it! How's a kite of that +size to lift it all? I'll show you," replied Sim.</p> + +<p>He was unfastening the fore-bands as he spoke, and now he crossed them +again over his little finger, and moved them along till the kite swung +under them, almost level.</p> + +<p>"That'll do. Now I'll tie 'em hard, and you can cut off your May-weed. +There'll be tail enough without it. When I was in China—"</p> + +<p>"Was you ever in China?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was. That was when I was a sailor. I saw kites enough there. +They spend money on 'em, just as we do on horses; make 'em of all shapes +and sizes. Don't need any tails."</p> + +<p>"Kites without tails?"</p> + +<p>"Well, some of 'em have, and some of 'em haven't. It's a knack in the +making of 'em. I've seen one like a dragon, and another like a big +snake, and they floated perfectly. Only a thin silk string, either."</p> + +<p>"String's got to be strong enough to hold a kite," said Parley Hooker. +"Look at yours."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mine's strong; it's made of fine hemp. But it isn't any heavier +than yours. What do you want of a rope, with a kite of that size?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't a rope."</p> + +<p>"It's too heavy, though. Besides, you've tied pieces together with big +knots in them. You can't send up any travellers."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show you. Some call 'em messengers."</p> + +<p>Just then Parley exclaimed, "Sim! Sim! mine's broke! it's coming down!"</p> + +<p>"Broke right in the middle, where you notched your big sticks together."</p> + +<p>"Just where it needs to be strongest," said Joe, knowingly.</p> + +<p>"No, it doesn't. Look at mine."</p> + +<p>It was the biggest kite they had ever seen, and it came down square at +the bottom; but it was not a great deal wider than Parley's. The curious +part of it was the cross-sticks and fore-bands. What did he need of so +many?</p> + +<p>"So many?" said Sim. "Why, the bands take the strain of the wind. If you +put it all on the sticks, they'd bend or break. Don't you see? There's a +band tied every two inches, and they all come together out here in the +centre knot. It just balances on that."</p> + +<p>"Your tail's a light one."</p> + +<p>"It's long enough, and it spreads enough to catch the wind. It isn't the +mere weight you want in a tail, if your kite's balanced. The wind blows +against the tail as hard as anywhere else."</p> + +<p>"Won't yours ever dive?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it will, with a cross puff of wind; but it'll come right up +again. That won't happen very often. I'll send her up. You wait and +see."</p> + +<p>The other kites were all up now, except Parley's broken one, and most of +them were cutting queer antics, because, as Sim explained, their +fore-bands were tied wrong, and their tails "did not fit them."</p> + +<p>"The Chinese could teach us. But, the way we make kites, there's as much +in the tail as in anything else."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but our kites are covered with paper, and you've put some old silk +on yours."</p> + +<p>"Of course I have. It isn't much heavier. The Chinese use thin paper +that's as good as silk. It won't wet through."</p> + +<p>"Wet? Oh, Sim, it looks as if a storm is coming now."</p> + +<p>So it did, and Sim's big kite was going up, up, up very fast, and he was +letting the strong brown string run rapidly off from a sort of reel he +held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Pull in your kites, boys," shouted Parley. "Let's cut for home."</p> + +<p>"I want to see Sim fly his."</p> + +<p>"You all pull in yours, and we'll go into the cattle shed. It's only a +shower. I can fly mine from the door."</p> + +<p>The shed was close at hand, and the door was a wide one. In three +minutes more, just as the first drops came down, there was quite a crowd +of boys behind Sim, as he stood a little inside, and watched his kite. +His reel was almost empty now, and the big kite looked a good deal +smaller than when it started.</p> + +<p>"How steady it is!"</p> + +<p>"It pulls hard, though."</p> + +<p>"There comes the rain."</p> + +<p>"Thunder and lightning too."</p> + +<p>Sim had fastened his wooden reel against the door-post, on a hook that +was there, but he kept his hand on the string.</p> + +<p>"I declare, boys! Feel of that! The string's wet, and it's making a +lightning-rod of itself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>Parley and Joe and Bob, and two or three others, felt of it at once.</p> + +<p>"Lightning? Why, Sim," said Bob, "I know better than that. I've had an +electric shock before."</p> + +<p>"That's all it is," said Parley.</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Sim, "didn't you ever hear of Dr. Franklin? We're doing +just what he did. He discovered electricity with a kite. A wet kite +string was the first lightning-rod there ever was in the world."</p> + +<p>"Lightning?" exclaimed Bob. "Don't you bring any in here. I won't touch +it again."</p> + +<p>"Did lightning ever strike anybody when he was flying a kite?" asked +Joe.</p> + +<p>"Not that I ever heard of," said Sim. "But it's beginning to pour hard. +I'll reel in my kite till the storm's over."</p> + +<p>He unhooked his reel as he spoke, but it was well he took a good strong +hold of it. The wind must have been blowing a gale up where the kite +was, and the string was a very strong one for its size.</p> + +<p>"I declare! Why—"</p> + +<p>But the next the boys knew, Sim Vedder was out in the rain, with that +kite tugging at him. He would not let go, and he could not stop himself, +and the sloping pasture before him was all down hill. On he went, faster +and faster, till his foot slipped, and down he went full length. He held +on, though, like a good fellow, and there he lay in the wet grass, with +the rain pouring upon him, tugging his best at his big kite.</p> + +<p>The wind lulled a little, and Sim began to work his reel. Slowly at +first, then faster; and about the time the rain stopped, the wind almost +died out, and the wonderful kite came in.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a stick of it broken," said Sim, triumphantly, "nor a +fore-band. That's because they were made right, and put on so they all +help each other."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but ain't you wet!" exclaimed three or four boys at once.</p> + +<p>Well, yes; he was, indeed, very wet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TWO_NARROW_ESCAPES" id="TWO_NARROW_ESCAPES"></a>TWO NARROW ESCAPES.</h2> + +<h3>BY UNCLE NED.</h3> + +<p>One evening last winter the children called upon their uncle Ned, who is +a sailor, and just home from India, for a story. He willingly granted +their request, and at once proceeded to tell them of a narrow escape he +once made, as follows:</p> + +<p>"At the time of the occurrence I was staying at a small village called +Yealah, in India, with a young friend in the civil service, who had a +bungalow there. We used to amuse ourselves picking up shells on the +beach in the cool of the evening, and later, sitting out enjoying the +breeze and smoking our cheroots. One evening, however, our conversation +was interrupted by a herd of buffaloes rushing past us at full speed, +which we imputed to their being chased by a tiger. On the following +morning our surmise proved correct, and we learned that a tiger had +carried off a buffalo within two or three hundred yards of where we had +been sitting on the previous evening. My friend, who was a keen +sportsman, resolved to track the tiger; and I accompanied him, with a +number of natives, who took care to keep at a safe distance in the rear. +Following the broad track through the jungle, we soon arrived at the +spot to which the tiger had dragged his prey, and here we found the +mangled remains of the buffalo, but the tiger had betaken himself +elsewhere to enjoy his siesta after gorging himself. We proceeded on +cautiously; but as the jungle got very thick and tangled, my friend +decided it would be imprudent to proceed any further, and we halted. We +brought the butts of our rifles to the ground, and being of a botanical +turn, I stooped to pick up a flower. At that moment a tremendous roar +echoed through the forest, and seemed to stun me. I staggered a little, +as if from a blow; but recovering myself, grasped my rifle, for I +immediately guessed it was the tiger. My friend, with an exclamation, +'What an escape!' dashed away to the right, and I was about to follow, I +knew not exactly whither, when he made his appearance, to my intense +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"His first exclamation was, 'The brute has got away. Just like my luck.' +And then he added, 'What a lucky escape you had!'</p> + +<p>"'What do you mean?' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Why, don't you know that, as you stooped down to pick the flower, that +tiger sprang at you, and missed you by a few inches?'</p> + +<p>"I confess a cold sweat broke out over me, and I inwardly thanked the +Almighty for my providential escape.</p> + +<p>"As my story is rather a short one, I will tell you another of a lucky +escape I witnessed; though first I should mention that soon after this +affair my friend paid with his life for the temerity with which he +tracked tigers in the jungle.</p> + +<p>"The brig to which I belonged was proceeding from Rangoon, and one +evening, after having come to an anchor abreast of a small inlet just +above Elephant Creek, at the mouth of the Irrawaddy, I accompanied the +skipper and a friend in the boat up the inlet to a small village to +procure a supply of fruit. On our return my companions expressed their +determination to bathe; but as I did not feel inclined to do so, I +seated myself in the stern, and taking out of my pocket one of Scott's +novels, amused myself with reading until they should have completed +their bath.</p> + +<p>"About five minutes had elapsed, and the skipper was alone in the water, +when my attention was aroused by shouts and screams from the villagers, +who were hurrying down to the water's edge. Turning round, I saw my +captain, for whom I had no great affection, exerting every muscle to +gain the bank, from which he was still at a considerable distance. Not +seeing anything to account for the hubbub, my first impression was that +a child had fallen into the water, and that he was swimming to the spot +of the accident to save it. In an instant I directed the Lascars to +'give way' with the oars, and seizing the helm, steered as nearly as I +could guess in the direction to which the gestures of the Burmese +appeared to point. Before I reached the point the skipper disappeared +beneath the water; but, full of the preconceived impression, I imagined +that he was diving in search of the child. A few strokes and we were at +the spot, but it was not until the Lascar crew lashed their oars +violently into the water that the truth flashed upon me. It must be an +alligator that was pursuing him; and soon all doubt was removed, when +the master, a few moments later, rose at a short distance from us in a +spot where he could feel the bottom, and ran quickly ashore, his +shoulder bleeding profusely. The whole transaction occupied a very short +time, and the wounded master was conveyed on board the brig with all +dispatch.</p> + +<p>"On inquiry I learned that the alligator had been first seen by the +Burmese, who gave instant notice of his approach, as before described, +and the warning was as quickly comprehended by the captain. All his +exertions to escape were, however, unavailing, and he felt himself +seized a little below the shoulder. By a convulsive effort he succeeded +in shaking off his cruel antagonist, and again struck out. The animal, +however, again advanced, and seizing him nearly by the same place, +dragged him under the surface for an instant or two, when the splashing +of the oars compelled him to relax his hold. On examination it proved +that the arm, although severely lacerated, was not so much injured as to +incur the necessity of amputation; and being placed under medical care +at Rangoon, the skipper was soon enabled to resume his duties."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4><a name="ACROSS_THE_OCEAN_OR_A_BOYS_FIRST_VOYAGE" id="ACROSS_THE_OCEAN_OR_A_BOYS_FIRST_VOYAGE"></a>[Begun in No. 19 of <span class="smcap">Harper's Young People</span>, March 9.]</h4> + +<h2>ACROSS THE OCEAN; OR, A BOY'S FIRST VOYAGE.</h2> + +<h4>A True Story.</h4> + +<h3>BY J. O. DAVIDSON.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Chapter VII</span>.</h3> + +<h3>TOWED BY A WHALE.</h3> + +<p>"Have you ever seen a whaler, lad?" asked old Herrick, as Frank came on +deck the next morning. "Well, here's one for you <i>now</i>, anyway!"</p> + +<p>There, sure enough, on the very edge of the great weed prairie which was +now almost left behind, lay a large vessel, with her sails hanging +loosely against the masts. Alongside of her floated a huge black and +white mass, which a second glance showed to be the carcass of a whale, +while the thick black smoke that rose from between her masts told that +the work of "trying out" the oil was going briskly forward. This was +just the sight for Austin, who, in the long winter evenings at home, had +devoured every account and engraving of the whale-fishery that he could +lay his hands on. He was still gazing, when Herrick touched his arm.</p> + +<p>"See them two boats yonder, my boy? They've struck another whale, or my +name ain't Herrick."</p> + +<p>The whaler's boats were about three miles off, pulling as if for life +and death. The other end of the line attached to each was under water, +but the disturbance of the surface showed that some large object was in +violent motion below. Suddenly both crews "backed water," while a man +leaped into the bow of each boat, axe in hand, ready to cut the rope +should the whale attempt to drag them under.</p> + +<p>The next moment the huge black body broke through the seething foam with +a lash of its tail, which, as Herrick said, "sounded like a church tower +a-fallin' flat on an acre o' planks." In flew the boats, one on each +side, up sprang the harpooners, whiz went the well-aimed weapons, and +the wounded whale, giving a leap that set the whole sea boiling, turned +and came right down upon the <i>Arizona</i>, as if taking <i>it</i> for the +assailant.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="600" height="256" alt="TOWED WITH THE SPEED OF A LOCOMOTIVE." title="" /> +<span class="caption">TOWED WITH THE SPEED OF A LOCOMOTIVE.</span> +</div> + +<p>Frank turned pale in spite of himself, for the charge of this moving +mountain seemed able to crush the strongest ship like an egg-shell. But +just as it was about to strike the bow, the monster turned again, and +made for the distant whaler, towing the two boats after it with the +speed of a locomotive.</p> + +<p>"Bully for you, mates!" shouted a harpooner, as they flew past. "Ye've +turned the critter for us, and now she'll tow us aboard without our +pulling a stroke!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 266px;"> +<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="266" height="400" alt="THE ECLIPSE." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE ECLIPSE.</span> +</div> + +<p>On the sixteenth night of the voyage, Frank was sitting on the +fore-hatch, admiring the brightness of the moon. Eight bells (8 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>) +had just been struck, when the ship's officers were seen crowding +together on the after-deck with an appearance of considerable +excitement. Before any one could guess what was the matter, one of the +men uttered a cry of astonishment, and pointed upward.</p> + +<p>The moonlight had become suddenly obscured, not by mist or clouds, but +by a huge circular shadow, which moved steadily across the bright disk, +blotting it out inch by inch.</p> + +<p>"It's a 'clipse, that's what it is," said one; "and I heerd Mr. Hawkins +say this minute as some feller ashore, months and months ago, said it ud +come this very day and hour. Queer, ain't it, for any land-lubber to be +so 'cute?"</p> + +<p>The darkness steadily increased, till the men could barely see each +other's faces; and with the unnatural gloom, a solemn silence fell upon +one and all. Not a word was spoken, not a sound heard, save the rush of +the steamer through the great waste of black waters. But the return of +the light at length unchained all tongues, and many a quaint comment was +made upon what they had just seen.</p> + +<p>"Guess the moon's got one side bright and t'other dark, and when she +slews round, she brings the dark part broadside on."</p> + +<p>"Not much, I reckon; it's them wet clouds goin' back'ard and for'ard +over her that spile her polish, same way as the spray rusts our +b'ilers."</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder; for a book-l'arned feller told me once that the sun +hisself's all black inside, and them spots ye see on him's jist the +black a-showin' through the gildin', like a darky's skin through the +holes in his shirt."</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The signs of their approach to land now became unmistakable. The sea +took a greenish tinge; numerous vessels were seen heading the same way +as themselves; and various birds, of a kind never met far from shore, +came fluttering around them. Frank, too much excited to go below, +perched himself in the rigging, and strained his eyes to catch the +earliest glimpse of Europe. But Africa came first, in the shape of the +Tangier Light; nor was it till 4 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> that the haze lifted, and a huge +dark mass was seen looming on the port bow, the sight of which made the +boy's heart leap, for it was the Rock of Gibraltar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="600" height="193" alt="THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR.</span> +</div> + +<p>As the dawn brightened, all the grand features of the scene came forth +in their full splendor. The long purple range of the African mountains, +ending in the bold headland of Ceuta, far away to the southeast; the +wide blue sweep of the bay, with the dainty little white town of +Algeciras planted on it, like an ivory carving; the flat sandy neck of +"neutral ground" between the Rock and the mainland, with all its +countless memories of war, from the old-world battles of Spaniard and +Saracen to the day when the combined fleets of France and Spain swept it +with the fire of 1800 cannon; the bristling masts of the harbor; the +long gray curve of Europa Point; the mighty fortress itself, with the +narrow eyes of levelled cannon peering watchfully through the terraced +rocks that loomed against the bright morning sky like a thunder-cloud; +the blue Spanish hills, wave beyond wave, melting at last into the warm, +dreamy horizon; and right in front the white houses of Gibraltar, +huddled together along the base of the cliff, as if (to quote old +Herrick) "they'd been playin' snow-sled, and all slid down in a +heap"—all were there.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 232px;"> +<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="232" height="400" alt="A GIBRALTAR FRUIT BOAT." title="" /> +<span class="caption">A GIBRALTAR FRUIT BOAT.</span> +</div> + +<p>To get into Gibraltar Harbor is no easy matter; but the <i>Arizona</i>, +following in the wake of an English mail-steamer, reached her berth at +last, and had barely cast anchor when she was surrounded by a perfect +fleet of "shore-boats" freighted with oranges, figs, bananas, +cocoa-nuts, monkeys,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> parrots, and everything else that any sailor +could be expected to buy.</p> + +<p>The screams of the parrots, the chattering of the monkeys, the bumping +of the boats against each other, the clatter of the oars, the angry +outcries of the boatmen, in Spanish and broken English, whenever a +monkey or a parrot fell overboard, or a fruit basket got upset, made a +deafening uproar. An English man-of-war, anchored close by, was +similarly beset; and a mischievous sailor had just lassoed a monkey out +of the nearest boat, against which outrage both Jocko and his master +were protesting with all the power of their lungs. Frank lost no time in +buying a stock of oranges, and tossed a quarter to the tall, black-eyed +boatman, whose embroidered jacket, brown handsome face, and round flat +hat with a jaunty cockade on one side of it, made a very striking +picture. The Spaniard rang it on a knife-blade, tested it with a hard +bite from his strong white teeth, and then tied it up in the +handkerchief around his head, with a bow and a "Gracias, senor" (thanks, +sir), worthy of any grandee in Spain.</p> + +<p>"What a fine fellow!" cried Frank, enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ain't he?" growled an old tar who overheard him. "If I'd a loose +tooth in my head, I'd yank it out 'fore comin' here, for fear some o' +them 'fine fellers' ud steal it!"</p> + +<p>"You don't say!"</p> + +<p>"Fact; and that's why we never let none on 'em aboard. I guess the old +sayin's true enough, 'The Spanish wines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> steals all heads, the Spanish +women steals all hearts, and the Spanish men steals everything.'"</p> + +<p>The captain, purser, and doctor had gone ashore with the ship's papers; +but to the no small dismay of the crew (who had expected a long stay in +port) a signal was suddenly reported to "up anchor" at once. So the +chain-cable was passed around the capstan, the bars manned (for the +convenient fashion of getting up the anchor by steam was not yet adopted +by the <i>Arizona</i>), and to work they went.</p> + +<p>The slack of the chain came in easily enough; but to "break" the anchor +out of the mud was a harder matter. Up came more men—up came even the +"trimmers and heavers" from the engine-room; the bars bent with the +pressure of six sturdy fellows apiece, but the anchor never budged. The +perspiration rolled down the bronzed faces of the sailors, and their +brawny chests heaved like bellows with the strain; but all to no +purpose.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a "flaw" of wind made the vessel heel, bringing more pressure +on the chain. The crew made a desperate effort, and seemed about to +conquer, when snap went a bar. The capstan spun back, the men were +dashed along the deck like nine-pins, and one poor fellow, jammed +between the chain and the hawse-pipe, had his hand cut in two as if by +an axe.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Yankee Doodle!" shouted a voice from the British ship, "can't +git up yer mud-hook, eh? Shall we send a boy down to lift it for yer?"</p> + +<p>Frank's eyes flashed fire at the taunt, and the roar of laughter that +followed. Forgetting everything in the passion of the moment, he sprang +upon the capstan, and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Mates, are we going to let that Britisher laugh at us? Not much! +Come—all together; now!"</p> + +<p>The excited men answered with a deafening cheer, and bent to their work +like giants. One tremendous heave, and up came the anchor at last. Round +and round they spun, leaping over the cable, which was now coming +rapidly in; and while Frank cheered and waved his cap like a madman, +they ran the anchor up "chock-a-block," just as Captain Gray and his +officers came up the side.</p> + +<h4>[<span class="smcap">to be continued</span>.]</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ROYAL_BLACKSMITH" id="THE_ROYAL_BLACKSMITH"></a>THE ROYAL BLACKSMITH.</h2> + +<h3>BY FLETCHER READE.</h3> + +<p>There was born one day in the grandest palace that ever the sun shone +upon a child whose life was for many years a sad and weary one. He was a +cripple from his birth; and the Queen his mother, whose heart was so +full of pride that there was no room left in it for love, hated the +innocent babe, and refused to take him in her arms.</p> + +<p>He, poor fellow, would no doubt have been as handsome as any of us if he +had been consulted about the matter; but as no one asked him whether he +would prefer being ugly or beautiful, he could hardly have been to blame +for coming into the world with one leg longer than the other.</p> + +<p>The Queen, however, did not stop to think of this. The longer she looked +at him, the more angry she became, until at last, when no one was +looking, she snatched him from his cradle, and threw him out of the +window.</p> + +<p>Down through the blue air fell the baby boy; still down and down, till +he reached the sea. Stretching out their arms as if to welcome such a +royal playfellow, the waves clapped their white hands, until the little +Prince crowed and cooed for joy.</p> + +<p>Far away beneath the waves lived two nymphs named Eurynome and Thetis, +who, when they heard what had happened, decided to adopt the child. +Hastening to his assistance, Thetis took him in her arms, and the two +hurried along under the sea until they reached the home which they had +made for themselves in one of the loveliest of the ocean caverns.</p> + +<p>Here the boy lived for many years, but he could not forget his old home +among the mountains of Olympus.</p> + +<p>"I shall never be happy," he said to himself, "until I regain my +rightful place among the sons of Zeus."</p> + +<p>He had already displayed great skill in carving, and the little grotto +of Thetis was like a piece of wonderland, fitted and furnished with all +manner of curious ornaments made by the lame boy, Hephæstus.</p> + +<p>As he grew older he resolved to turn his talents to account, so he made +friends with the Old Man of the Sea, an elderly gentleman of uncertain +temper, who spent his time in sailing over the ocean in an enormous +shell drawn by sea-horses.</p> + +<p>To him Hephæstus brought a trident, hoping that the gift would induce +him to offer the young exile his assistance in making peace with the +Queen.</p> + +<p>Now this trident was a magical three-pronged spear, with which the owner +could still the waves in their wildest fury. It was therefore almost +invaluable to the old sailor; but although he accepted the gift, and +praised the workmanship, he forgot to thank the workman, and sailed +grandly away.</p> + +<p>It was not long after this that the lame Prince, walking one day through +the woods, fell in with a band of wandering musicians.</p> + +<p>Some were dancing; others were singing; and as he examined them more +closely, he saw that they had legs and hoofs and even long ears like +goats.</p> + +<p>While he stood looking with wondering eyes at these fantastic beings, +the leader of the band suddenly approached him, and said,</p> + +<p>"What aileth thee, my brother? Tell me thy trouble, that I may make thee +glad again, for I can not abide a sorrowful countenance."</p> + +<p>"I am called Hephæstus," replied the Prince; "but I know not who you may +be, to call me brother."</p> + +<p>"You will be wiser when you are older," laughed his new friend. "It is +enough for you to know now that I am a son of Zeus. But I like not the +solemn grandeur of the court, so I live in the woods, keeping holiday +all the year. These fauns and satyrs are my friends; and if you will +join our company, I can promise you a merry life and a long one."</p> + +<p>But Hephæstus shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I can never be happy," he said, "until I have won the love of the +Queen-mother. To do that I must show her that I have gifts quite as +valuable as beauty; but I have no one to plead my cause, and I, alas! do +not know the way to Olympus."</p> + +<p>"If that is all your trouble," answered the merry man of the woods, "set +your heart at rest, for I myself will present you at court."</p> + +<p>With these words, the good-natured Bacchus threw the skin of a wild +beast over his shoulders, and the two travellers became the best of +friends as they journeyed together along the road which lies between the +wooded heights where the satyrs dance, to the hill where the Olympian +palace hides half its rosy towers among the clouds.</p> + +<p>The Queen at first would not recognize her son; the unhappy Prince hung +his head, and the assembled courtiers laughed long and loud at the +awkward silence of the youth.</p> + +<p>Bacchus, however, was not to be frightened by laughter, however +inextinguishable, and he pleaded his brother's cause so well that the +Queen finally consented to overlook his ugliness, and ordered that a +palace be built for him.</p> + +<p>"All I ask," said the Prince, "is a workshop, a pair of bellows, and a +forge."</p> + +<p>"Then you are not my son, after all," exclaimed the Queen. "You are +nothing but a poor blacksmith."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis true I am a blacksmith," he answered, "but I will show you that I +am no common workman."</p> + +<p>Concealing her astonishment, the Queen ordered his request to be +granted, and Hephæstus, glad but silent, limped away.</p> + +<p>Day after day found him at his work; and at length one morning, when the +King and Queen were sitting in their banqueting hall, the doors were +thrown open, and there appeared at each entrance a golden table laden +with nectar and ambrosia.</p> + +<p>One by one the tables walked across the hall as if they had been alive, +and close behind followed Hephæstus, supported on either side by lovely +maidens, fashioned, like the tables, out of gold.</p> + +<p>To the King he presented a golden sceptre and thunderbolts, which no one +but Zeus himself could hold.</p> + +<p>"Thou art indeed our son," cried the King. "Choose what thou wilt, and +it shall be given thee."</p> + +<p>Looking around the court, the eyes of Hephæstus rested at last on +Venus—a Princess so beautiful that she was supposed to have been made +of sea-foam.</p> + +<p>"Grant me, O Zeus, that I may have this lady for my wife," said +Hephæstus.</p> + +<p>The request was granted almost before it was asked, and the wedding +which followed was one of the most brilliant that had ever taken place +in the country of Olympus.</p> + +<p>Venus, however, was as false as she was beautiful, and Hephæstus was +often unhappy; but he consoled himself as best he could by keeping +perpetually at work, sometimes making a brazen shield for one friend, or +forging a suit of armor for another.</p> + +<p>So it came to pass that the lame boy Hephæstus, exiled from his father's +court on account of his ugliness, became the world-renowned royal +blacksmith, honored by all for his patient endurance of wrong, for his +matchless skill, and for his loving service.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BLUE_GROTTO" id="THE_BLUE_GROTTO"></a>THE BLUE GROTTO.</h2> + +<h3>BY JAMES B. MARSHALL.</h3> + +<p>"Did you ever see any blue-colored people?" asked Miss Bertha, aged ten, +shortly after my introduction to that young lady at Naples. I was forced +to confess that, though my acquaintances had shaded from white to black, +and brown to red, I had never been fortunate enough to boast of a blue +one.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I saw 'most a hundred the other day!" said she, triumphantly. "Then +did you ever see a silver-colored man?"</p> + +<p>"A silver-colored man? Miss Bertha dear, I have an idea that you have +been to fairy-land."</p> + +<p>"He was a real silver-colored man," said she, very earnestly.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he was the King of the fairy-land you went to."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, he wasn't; he was a big boatman. But it was just like +fairy-land; it was splendid!—really, just splendid!"</p> + +<p>It proved that the dear little enthusiast had been, a few days previous, +on a visit to the Island of Capri to see the famous Blue Grotto; since +which she had been startling people with her descriptions of blue folks +and a silver man.</p> + +<p>Seeing that I couldn't have a better guide than Miss Bertha, the next +morning we and a jovial party went on board of the tiny steamer that +plies between Naples and the eighteen miles distant Island of Capri, +hollowed under the cliffs of which the Blue Grotto is situated. The Bay +of Naples, you know, is called the most beautiful in the world, and a +sail across it is a lovely thing in itself. There are such glorious blue +skies overhead, and such clear blue waters underneath, that the steamer +appears to bear one through the air between two skies. Then, close to +Naples, is seen that wonderful volcano, Vesuvius, with always a cloud of +smoke curling lazily out of its crater. And, besides, the white houses +of Naples are so built on a hill-side, the streets climbing to the top, +that a few miles away that too is a handsome sight. Miss Bertha told me +that they were the marble steps to the giant's palace, whose bird was +carrying us to the enchanted island to show us the giant's jewel-room. +Capri then looked like a distant light-house, merely a brown rock rising +out of the sea.</p> + +<p>As we went bobbing over the waves it grew higher and higher, which Miss +Bertha explained was the correct thing for it to do, until, when the +steamer anchored a little distance from its cliffs, it rose straight up +from the water to a dizzy height. A flock of little skiffs crowded +around the steamer for the passengers, and Miss Bertha, taking charge of +me, led me into one.</p> + +<p>"But the Grotto, where is it?" I asked, staring at the huge cliffs, +straight at which our red-sashed boatman was rowing us as if to +destruction.</p> + +<p>Skiff after skiff ahead of us was seen to be swallowed up in the cliffs +in the most amazing way, and not an opening in the rocky wall to be +seen. "You mustn't be afraid," said my sweet little guide, assuringly: +"it won't hurt;" and she gave me her hand, that—perhaps I shouldn't +tell—trembled a little, and directly its mate stole into my grasp.</p> + +<p>"Lie low down," said our boatman, when the skiff was within a few feet +of apparently smashing against the cliff.</p> + +<p>"And shut your eyes tight," said Miss Bertha, screwing up her eyes so +tight that she showed all of her pretty white teeth in the funniest way. +The skiff scratched and bumped on the rocks a few times, and then +floated clear.</p> + +<p>The bright sky was gone, the gulls flying about the cliffs were gone, +the steamer was gone, and the cliffs themselves were gone: we had +slipped under them, through a tiny opening, and were in the Blue Grotto. +The blue roof rose high above us, and there was ample room within the +Grotto for many times the numerous blue skiffs filled with blue-haired +blue people, all dressed in blue clothes, and breathing blue air. That +is just the way we appeared. The water was lighter-colored than the air, +and when a boatman jumped overboard, his every action being distinctly +seen, he seemed to be flying in air, and not diving in water. It gave +one a weird crawly feeling to see him, and when he came to the surface +it seemed to be the most natural thing for him to tumble back to us +after capering around in the sky. Then he crawled out on a rock to allow +the water to drain off his clothes, and then it was that Miss Bertha's +promise of a silver man was made good. He stood there a moment, +appearing like a burnished silver statue, and the trickling drops as +they fell from him sparkled with silvery glitter.</p> + +<p>An oar splashed in the water sent the drops flying into the blue air, to +glimmer there in silver brightness a moment, like a patch of the starry +Milky Way on a frosty night.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it lovely!" said Bertha, clapping her hands joyfully; "and you +can get a whole handful of silver by just reaching for it, but you can't +keep it." She grasped the blue water as she spoke, and it escaped +through her fingers in glittering drops, as if a handful of coins was +melting in her palm. Whatever is held in the water assumes, for the +time, this silver-color, and the blades of the oars shone as though the +Capri boatmen were so rich that they had made them of pure silver.</p> + +<p>For hundreds of years the Grotto was known to exist somewhere under the +cliffs of the island, but so small is the entrance that it was not +rediscovered until this century. It can not be entered except the sea +around the island is very calm; and as all the beautiful effects are due +to the refraction of light, the bright mid-day sun should be shining +without.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ALBATROSS" id="THE_ALBATROSS"></a>THE ALBATROSS.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="A SKIMMER OF THE SOUTHERN SEAS." title="" /> +<span class="caption">A SKIMMER OF THE SOUTHERN SEAS.</span> +</div> + +<p>Far away in the desolate South Seas there lives a large and beautiful +bird called the albatross, the giant member of the petrel family. The +wandering albatross (<i>Diomedea exulans</i>) is the largest of its tribe. +Specimens have been captured measuring four feet in length, and with an +expanse of wing from ten to fourteen feet. The body of this bird is very +large, its neck is short and stout, and its head is armed with a +powerful hooked beak from six to eight inches long. It is snowy, +glistening white, its long wing-feathers tipped with black.</p> + +<p>Its mighty strength of wing renders it the admiration of all navigators, +who fitly name it the lord of the stormy seas. In the desolate regions +where it lives the sailors hail its appearance with delight, as it comes +sailing around the ship with majestic, careless flight, rising, sinking, +now swooping down to seize some cast-off mouthful of food, now poising +high above the mast-head, moving with the ship at the most rapid speed, +and yet with scarcely a perceptible movement of its gigantic wings.</p> + +<p>In storm or calm the albatross is master of the wind and waves. Sailors, +straining every nerve to guide the laboring, struggling ship through +tempestuous seas, look up, and see far above their heads the albatross +calmly breasting the gale, its majesty unruffled, and its great +out-stretched wings as motionless as on a still, sunny day. Its strength +of flight is marvellous, and is said to be superior to that of any other +bird. Sailors have captured these royal inhabitants of southern polar +regions, and marked their glistening breasts with spots of tar, that +they might distinguish them and determine their power of endurance; and +in several instances the same bird has followed a ship under full sail, +before the wind, for seven days and longer, circling round and round, +and apparently taking no rest, its sharp eye always watchful for any +refuse of food cast overboard by the sailors.</p> + +<p>The albatross is very voracious, and easily caught, as it is neither +cunning nor shy. As it lives in desolation, and has little to do with +men, it knows nothing of trickery, nor dreams of the plots laid against +its royal freedom. An interesting account is given of the capture of an +albatross by an officer of a French ship. It was a sunny, windy day, and +the vessel was speeding along near the dreary Tierra del Fuego, when a +great shadow like a cloud passed over the deck. On looking up, the +officer saw an immense albatross, its white breast glistening like snow, +floating aloft with wide-spread wings. Wishing to examine the bird more +closely, he gave orders for its capture. Fastening a piece of fat pork +to a strong hook attached to a line, a sailor threw it overboard, and +allowed full forty yards of cord to run out. The albatross soon descried +the tempting morsel, and sweeping down in graceful circles to seize it, +was soon securely hooked. The only show of resistance it made to being +drawn on board was to extend its wings, and utter loud discordant cries. +Once on deck, its grace and majesty vanished. It showed no fear, and the +hook, still fastened in its beak, did not seem to annoy it; but no +landsman could have been more awkward than was the albatross on the +smooth rocking deck. It staggered and waddled clumsily, and tried in +vain to lift itself with its wings. It showed considerable temper, and +snapped furiously at all who approached, and the captain's dog, which +came trotting up, full of curiosity over the strange visitor, received a +terrible blow from the hooked beak, which sent him howling with pain to +the most distant corner of the deck. As the officer was desirous to +preserve the beak, breast, wings, and feet of this magnificent creature +as souvenirs, he ordered the sailors to kill it, although he states that +it impressed him as though he were commanding the execution of some +royal personage.</p> + +<p>The albatross is an expert swimmer, and floats on the waves like a piece +of cork, riding in undisturbed serenity over the lofty foaming crests of +stormy billows. It is not, however, a good diver, and is obliged to +subsist on whatever food comes to the surface. It might be called the +vulture of the seas, for dead fish, floating carcasses of whales, and +other sea refuse form its main diet.</p> + +<p>The habits of the albatross during the breeding season are still +partially veiled in mystery, as the desolate mossy headlands of Tristan +d'Acunha, Inaccessible Island, and other lands lying far to the +southward, where the albatross makes its nest, are visited only at rare +intervals. The island of Tristan is circular, and almost entirely +volcanic, and on the summit of its cliffs, which rise a thousand feet +above the sea, on broad dreary plains of dark gray lava, the albatrosses +gather some time during November, and prepare themselves nests. +Selecting some space free from tussock-grass, the bird scrapes together +a circle of dried grass and clay, in which it lays one egg about the +size of a swan's, white, with a band of small brick-red spots round one +end. But few naturalists have been able to visit these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> great breeding +warrens, and none have determined how the albatross lives and feeds its +young during its absence from the ocean. It is certain that the great +bird rarely leaves its nest, for there is a wicked little robber gull +ever on the watch to break and eat the egg, should the mother-bird +desert it for a moment.</p> + +<p>The young, when hatched, are snow-white, and covered with a soft woolly +down. A traveller once climbed up the dangerous precipice of Tristan +d'Acunha, and saw these young helpless things lying in the nests, while +several hundred pair of parent birds were stalking awkwardly about. They +all snapped their beaks with a great noise, and ejected from them an +offensive oil—their only means of defense. The same traveller visited +the place five months later, when he found all the young albatrosses +sitting in their nests as before, but the old birds had all disappeared. +It is supposed that an albatross must be a year old before it can fly; +and as the parents depart some time in April for their ocean hunting +grounds, and are never seen to return until the breeding season again +comes round, it is astonishing what feeds and supports the young until +they are able to hunt for themselves. Naturalists wonder over this +point, and advance many different theories, but as yet no facts have +been discovered in regard to the diet of the young and helpless bird.</p> + +<p>The albatross was formerly regarded with superstitious reverence by +sailors, who considered this majestic companion which came around the +ship in desolate icy seas as a bird of good omen; and to kill one was +considered a crime that would surely be punished by disaster and +shipwreck. Coleridge, the English poet, has written a wonderful poem on +this superstition, called the "Rime of the Ancient Mariner," to which +Gustave Doré, a French artist, has drawn a series of illustrations +picturing the lonely frozen ocean, and the majestic, lordly albatross +which the unhappy sailor shot with his cross-bow, thereby bringing +misfortune and death on the goodly ship and its crew.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 488px;"> +<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="488" height="600" alt=""KITTY, YOU CAN'T HAVE MY APPLE."—Engraved from a Picture by F. Dielman, by Permission of R. E. Moore, American Art +Gallery, New York." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"KITTY, YOU CAN'T HAVE MY APPLE."—Engraved from a +Picture by F. Dielman, by Permission of R. E. Moore, American Art +Gallery, New York.</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_BEAR_STORY" id="A_BEAR_STORY"></a>A BEAR STORY.</h2> + +<h3>BY EMILY H. LELAND.</h3> + +<p>A good many years ago, when the century was young, there came to live in +the big forests of Northern Vermont a man and his wife and their little +boy. Partly because they liked to be high up out of the fogs and damp, +and partly because there was little else but hilly land in that part of +the country, they built their cabin at the top of a nice baby mountain, +which was covered at the back with an immense orchard of maples and +butternuts, but which was quite bare and steep at the east side, and had +rocks cropping out which the farmer thought would be fine for building a +good stone house with some day.</p> + +<p>It was long, hard work starting a farm in a place where there was +nothing but woods; but after a year or so had passed by, and enough +trees had been cleared away to make room for a corn field and a potato +patch, and a little chicken-house and cow-shed had been added to their +log-cabin, the young farmer used to sit down before their rough stone +fire-place, with its bright crackling fire, and trot his boy to sleep +upon his knee, while he watched the pretty young mamma putting away the +supper things, thinking all the time what a rich and happy man he was. +And when at last a pig-pen was joined to the cow-shed, and two cunning +little pink-nosed pigs had been bought of a neighbor five miles away, +and placed in it, he felt richer and grander than many a man does +nowadays who owns a railroad.</p> + +<p>And how they grew, those pink-nosed pigs! They had a southern exposure, +good drainage, plenty of dry leaves and moss for bedding, and an +abundance of milk, with an occasional handful of cracked corn or a pint +of mashed potatoes. How could they help growing? The farmer took great +delight in feeding them, and his wife would sometimes ask him, with a +laugh, "Now, Stephen, which do you love the most—the pigs or our little +'Lisha?"</p> + +<p>Elisha was the baby's name. They hadn't thought of such names as Carl +and Claude and Clarence in those days.</p> + +<p>One fine moon-lit night, late in the fall, after the corn had been +husked and carried into the loft, and some of the big yellow pumpkins +had been cut into strips and hung on long poles near the kitchen ceiling +to dry, and others had been stored away for the cow's luncheons and the +Thanksgiving pies, and the potatoes were safe in the cellar, and the +onions hung in long strings above the mantel-shelf, this young farmer +covered up the glowing coals in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> the fire-place with ashes, so they +would keep bright and hot for the morning fire, and went to bed feeling +quite well prepared for winter, for he had that day "banked" the house +clear up to its queer little windows, and made the cow-shed and pig-pen +and hen-house very cozy with loads of hemlock and spruce boughs.</p> + +<p>He was just dozing off to sleep, when all at once there sounded through +the still, frosty air a long and terrible squeal from the pig-pen.</p> + +<p>The farmer did not wait for it to end, but bounced out of bed, tore away +the clumsy fastening of the door, and rushed out with a war-whoop that +could have been heard a mile away if there had been anybody to hear it. +As he rushed he caught up a corn stalk that happened to lie in his way. +A corn stalk was a foolish thing for him to pick up, but people seldom +stop to think twice in such moments. He was around by the pig-pen in no +time, and there he saw a great burly <i>something</i> just lifting one of his +dear little pigs over the top of the pen. He rushed upon him, and struck +him over the head with the corn stalk. There was a joint in the corn +stalk nearly as hard as a crust of bread, and the <i>something</i> seemed to +almost feel it through his thick fur, for he turned about and looked at +the farmer, as if saying,</p> + +<p>"What do you want of <i>me</i>?"</p> + +<p>And there he was—a great, black, full-grown bear!</p> + +<p>"Drop him! drop him!" yelled the farmer; and he brought the corn stalk +down upon the bear's nose. The bear dropped the pig very quickly, but he +grabbed the man in place of it, and then commenced a grand wrestling +match. The farmer was a strong man, and he was "fighting for the right." +The bear was strong too, and being a little tired of wild honey and +beech-nuts, he had made up his mind to have a little spring pig for his +family's supper. As they pushed and pulled this way and that, the bear +tripped against a stump, and down they came, bear and man, to the +ground; and being near the steep hill-side, in about ten seconds they +began rolling down, over and over, and faster and faster, bumping over +rocks and hummocks, but never letting go, and never stopping until the +bottom of the hill was reached.</p> + +<p>And then—</p> + +<p>Up got Mr. Bear, and made off down the valley at a slow trot, never +stopping to say "good-night" or anything. And up got the farmer, and +scrambled up the hill as fast as his bruised legs could carry him, and +feeling of his ribs as he went, expecting to find half a dozen of them +at least punching out through his night-gown. But they were not.</p> + +<p>At the door he was met by his wife keeping guard with the birch broom +over her sleeping boy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Stephen! what <i>was</i> it?" she said, in a shivering whisper.</p> + +<p>"Oh! nothing but a bear, nothing but a bear," said the farmer.</p> + +<p>But the little pigs slept in the hen-house for the rest of the night, +and the next day they had a stout log roof built over their heads.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PROFESSIONAL_DIVERS" id="PROFESSIONAL_DIVERS"></a>PROFESSIONAL DIVERS.</h2> + +<p>One of the diver's earliest experiences is a disagreeable "roaring" +sensation in the ears for some time after his first descent; but this is +little felt after he becomes accustomed to his work. It is caused by the +air pressure, which increases with depth. From the same cause the diver +often experiences a sensation amounting to earache, which any one may +test for himself by descending in a diving-bell. With regard to the mode +of working, it is noteworthy that, instead of moving gradually outward +after reaching the bottom, the diver usually gropes at once to the full +length of his tether in the required direction, and then works slowly +back to the starting-point. He considers this the safer method, partly +because it leaves him at the finish directly at the place whence he has +to rise.</p> + +<p>The length of time during which a diver can remain under water depends +very much upon his own strength and experience, the steady care with +which the air-pump is managed, and other circumstances. M. Frendenberg +states that in the repair of the well in the Scharley zinc mines, in +Silesia, two divers descended to a depth of eighty-five feet, remaining +down for periods varying from fifteen minutes to two hours. Siebe, +another authority on the subject, relates that in removing the cargo of +the ship <i>Cape Horn</i>, wrecked off the coast of South America, a diver +named Hooper made seven descents to a depth of no less than two hundred +and one feet, and at one time remained down forty-two minutes—supposed +to be the greatest diving feat ever achieved.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JOE" id="JOE"></a>JOE.</h2> + +<h3>BY MRS. MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Bright brown eyes and tangled hair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Rosy cheek beneath the tan,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Fearless head on shoulders square—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">That is Joe, the little man,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Helping mother all he can.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Father is away at sea</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">(Oh, the vessel tarries long!):</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Lonely would the cottage be,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Many a weary day go wrong,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">But for Joe, with shout and song.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Rough the weather, fierce the gales,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Wild the nights upon the shore:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Oft the dear wife's courage fails,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">When she hears the breakers roar,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Lest her sailor come no more.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Joe, with lion heart and leal,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Tells her it is safe outside;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">That the deep sea does not feel</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">All the troubles of the tide;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">That the good ship safe will ride.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Mother heeds her comforter:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">He is only eight years old,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">But his earnest words to her</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Are as rubies set in gold—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Precious with a worth untold.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BUMBLE-BEE" id="MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BUMBLE-BEE"></a>MR. THOMPSON AND THE BUMBLE-BEE.</h2> + +<h3>BY ALLAN FORMAN.</h3> + +<p>"Buzz, buzz-z, buzz-z-z," scolded old Mr. Bumble-Bee, flying around Mr. +Thompson's head. Mr. Thompson didn't understand him, however, and only +brushed at him impatiently, and said, "Get out!" in a tone anything but +sociable; but the old bee kept flying around just the same, and +complained in his drowsy voice: "Buzz, buzz-z, buzz-z-z. I wish you +would go away. I want to get into my house, and I don't want you to see +me. My family are in there, and we are making bread to-day, and unless I +get home with the flour, my wife will scold awfully. Buzz, buzz-z, +buzz-z-z."</p> + +<p>But in the mean time Mr. Thompson had fallen asleep, and the old bee sat +down on the fence rail and watched him. "Hum, hum, hum," he murmured. "I +guess that he has gone to sleep. I don't see what men want to stay awake +for, anyway; they are not half so much trouble when they are asleep. And +only listen how nicely he can buzz through his nose!—he really seems to +be quite like a sensible bee."</p> + +<p>Now Mr. Thompson says he did not go to sleep at all; he says that he +only closed his eyes, and in a few minutes he could understand every +word that the old bee said.</p> + +<p>"He's a pleasant-looking man," buzzed the bee. "I wonder if he likes +honey?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson answered through his nose that he was very fond of it.</p> + +<p>"Sensible, too," said the bee, who thought (all bumble-bees do) that +anybody who agreed with him must be sensible. Then, turning to Mr. +Thompson, the bee murmured, in a more pleasant hum, "If you like honey, +try some of this." As he said it he alit on Mr. Thompson's lips, and +pressed some of the honey he had with him into his mouth.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson began to grow smaller, and as he shrunk in size, his light +alpaca duster became gauzy, and formed itself into wings. Just as he had +begun to wonder how long it would take him to shrink into nothing, the +bee said, "There, I guess that will do."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson stretched himself, and found to his surprise that he was in +reality nothing more than a large black bumble-bee. He shook his wings, +arose, and, flying around for a few moments, settled on the fence rail. +He has since told me that if it is true, as Mr. Darwin says, that men +were evolved from the lower orders of animals, they made the greatest +mistake of their lives when they left off their wings.</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked the old bee, "you look quite presentable. Won't you +drop in and take dinner with me? My wife would be delighted to see you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson thought how much he resembled a certain highly respectable +old gentleman who was wont to invite his friends to his humdrum dinners, +and buzz them unmercifully in the same drowsy way. But as he did not +like to offend his new friend, he answered, politely, that he would be +most happy, and followed him under the rail into a round hole that was +the door of the bumble-bee's house.</p> + +<p>They entered a long cylindrical corridor, or, as the old bee expressed +it, "arched at the top, sides, and floor." It was lined with the fibres +of the wood, and was as soft as velvet. After walking some distance +along the hall, they reached a part where it widened into a sort of +parlor. Here Mrs. Bumble-Bee was seated, resting from the labor of +bread-making.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are home at last," she buzzed, angrily. "I'll be bound you +forgot the flour."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear, don't you see it? I have it here," answered Mr. Bee, +soothingly, pointing to two little yellow bundles on his legs.</p> + +<p>After greeting her guest, Mrs. Bee excused herself on the score of +domestic duties, and busied herself in carrying the flour, or pollen, +into the corridor above. Soon she returned, and after they had made a +meal of bee-bread and honey, Mr. Bumble-Bee proposed to show his guest +through his mansion. They passed through several long corridors, so +constructed that the rain could not beat into the living-rooms, as Mr. +Bee explained. One end of one of the upper galleries was securely walled +up, and in another compartment lay three or four worm-like insects +almost covered with bee-bread.</p> + +<p>"What is this room used for?" inquired Mr. Thompson.</p> + +<p>"This is the nursery," answered Mr. Bee, proudly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, indeed! And what are those white, ugly-looking grubs?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bee looked aghast for a moment, but his surprise quickly turned into +indignation, as he buzzed, angrily: "Grubs! grubs! ugly-looking grubs! +Those, sir, are my children, sir, and I flatter myself that a more +charming family does not exist. Grubs, forsooth! Out of my house, base +insulter!" And before Mr. Thompson could apologize, Mr. Bee had pushed +him out, and stung him on the end of his nose.</p> + +<p>He fell, and as he dropped from the rail he began to grow larger, and +when he reached the ground he had assumed his natural proportions. He +found himself lying in the same place beside the fence that he had +occupied when the bee first spoke to him.</p> + +<p>When he related the story to his friends, some one suggested that he had +dreamed the whole adventure. He gently touched his inflamed and swelled +nose, and answered, in a grieved tone, "I suppose I dreamed this too."</p> + +<p>This argument was unanswerable, and Mr. Thompson is now engaged in +writing a lecture on the habits and customs of the bumble-bee. Among +other things he says, "Bumble-bees only consider those people sensible +who agree with them"; and again, "Bumble-bees invariably think their own +children the most beautiful and interesting creatures in existence."</p> + +<p>Which facts, if they are true, show the great superiority of men over +bumble-bees.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_STORY_OF_GEORGE_WASHINGTON" id="THE_STORY_OF_GEORGE_WASHINGTON"></a>THE STORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.</h2> + +<h3>BY EDWARD CARY.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Chapter II</span>.</h3> + +<p>After the close of the French and Indian war, Washington, then in his +twenty-seventh year, married Mrs. Martha Custis, and settled down to a +Virginia planter's life at Mount Vernon. His neighbors elected him again +and again to the House of Burgesses of the colony—a body much like one +of our State Legislatures. Here he did not talk much, but he kept close +watch of matters, and knew, as nearly as he could, all the facts that +were needed to make up his mind, so that he had a good deal of weight +with other members, and yet was very modest. When he first took his seat +in the House, the Speaker was directed to thank him, in the name of the +people, for his great services as an officer. This the Speaker did in +glowing terms, quite unexpectedly to Washington. Washington rose to +reply. His face flushed; he struggled to speak; but could only stammer, +and stood speechless and trembling. "Sit down, Mr. Washington," said the +Speaker, with a smile. "Your modesty equals your valor, and that +surpasses the power of any language that I possess."</p> + +<p>After Washington had been some ten years at Mount Vernon, looking +forward to the peaceful and easy life of a wealthy farmer, certain +things happened which seemed then of small account, but which were to +lead to a great change in his career. The government of Great Britain +undertook to raise money in America for use on the other side of the +ocean. This government was made up of the King and the Parliament, and +the Parliament was for the most part chosen by the people of England. +The people of America were not allowed to choose any of its members, and +when the British government declared that the Americans must raise money +for it, the Americans had no one to vote for them or speak for them on +that question. They thought that this was not fair. They were willing to +pay the expenses of their own governments, because they had some voice +in them, but they would not help pay the expenses of the British +government, in which they had no voice.</p> + +<p>The British government passed an act which said that every written +promise to pay money must be upon stamped paper, which could only be got +by buying it from British officers. If the promise was not on this kind +of paper, the man who signed it need not pay. The British thought this +would bring in a good deal of money. But the Americans would not use the +stamped paper. They seized that which was sent over, and burned it. +Other kinds of taxes were tried, but the Americans would pay none of +them. Washington took the side of his countrymen with great zeal. He +wrote to a friend: "I think the Parliament of Great Britain have no more +right to put their hands into my pocket, without my consent, than I have +to put my hands into yours." But the British government insisted, and +sent over troops to Boston to try and force the people to submit.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 334px;"> +<img src="images/ill_009.jpg" width="334" height="400" alt="WASHINGTON TAKES COMMAND OF THE ARMY." title="" /> +<span class="caption">WASHINGTON TAKES COMMAND OF THE ARMY.</span> +</div> + +<p>Washington was one of a number who proposed that a Congress, or great +meeting, should be called to arrange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> for resisting the taxes, and he +was chosen to go to the Congress, which was held at Philadelphia in +September, 1774. Meanwhile more soldiers were sent over. An attempt was +made on the 19th of April, 1775, to seize some powder which the +Americans had at Concord, near Boston, and the result was the battle of +Lexington, where a good many Americans were killed, but where the +British soldiers were finally driven back. Large numbers of men took +their guns and gathered at Boston to watch the British troops, and keep +them in the city. They came from Massachusetts and the other colonies +called New England—from Connecticut and Rhode Island, and from New +Hampshire and Maine.</p> + +<p>The Congress came together again in May, 1775, and Washington was also +there. The battle of Lexington had been heard of, and the people were +everywhere angry and excited.</p> + +<p>The Congress resolved to resist all attempts by the British to force the +country to submit. It called for troops and guns and powder from the +various colonies. It adopted the soldiers around Boston as a part of the +"Continental Army," or the army of the whole country; it chose +Washington as commander-in-chief, to have the direction of all the +soldiers. When this was made known to him, he thanked Congress for the +honor, but he added, "I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in +this room that I this day declare with the utmost sincerity I do not +think myself equal to the command I am honored with." He also refused to +take any pay for his services. "I will keep an exact account of my +expenses," he said. "These, I doubt not, Congress will discharge, and +that is all I desire." Washington hastened to Boston, learning of the +battle of Bunker Hill on the way. He found some seventeen thousand men +around Boston, and took command of them on the 3d of July, under a great +elm-tree, on the common in the village of Cambridge. He was then +forty-three years old, and a very tall and fine-looking man. His +features were large, his eyes were of a pure blue, usually grave, but +full of kindness, and at times very merry. His manners were gentle, but +full of dignity, and they often seemed very cold to those not well +acquainted with him, though at heart he was not cold.</p> + +<h4>[<span class="smcap">to be continued</span>.]</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a name="PUCK_AND_BLOSSOM" id="PUCK_AND_BLOSSOM"></a> +<img src="images/ill_010.jpg" width="400" height="351" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>PUCK AND BLOSSOM.</h2> + +<h4>From the German of Marie von Olfers.</h4> + +<h3>PART II.</h3> + +<p>"Ow!" sobbed Blossom, "that hurt."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Puck, comfortingly, "things never go right the first +time; it'll be better by-and-by."</p> + +<p>Then they went and they went, till they came to a great big pond. "This +is a horrid world," sighed Blossom. "Hope we've dot to the end of it +now. Hope we'll soon det back to our dood old egg."</p> + +<p>"But let's go see how it is over there first," said Puck. "Ducky, ducky, +come and carry us across."</p> + +<p>"Ow! but then my little white frock will det all dirty," said Blossom.</p> + +<p>"What does that matter?" answered Puck; "we shall see how it is over +there." Over there was very much the same as it was over here. The duck +ducked them finely.</p> + +<p>"So you'll know how it is down here too," he said.</p> + +<p>Dripping, they stood upon the shore.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_011.jpg" width="400" height="350" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Ow! ow!" sobbed Blossom, looking very miserable indeed; "if it doesn't +det better soon, I don't want to see anything more at all, I don't."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<img src="images/ill_012.jpg" width="375" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Of course it'll get better," said Puck; "the sun'll dry us." The sun +looked out condescendingly from the clouds for a moment, and then +disappeared. "Come, Blossom," said Puck, "who cares for the old sun! +Just as though there wasn't fire anywhere but up there! There's some +down here too. I know where it lives—down there in that little house."</p> + +<p>Yes, down there in that little house.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_013.jpg" width="400" height="348" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"In the ashes, inside the stove," said the cat, who was looking after +things while the cook was away.</p> + +<p>"It's asleep," said Puck. "Wait; I'll soon wake it up." So he blew and +he blew, but it would not wake up at all. The sparks looked out at him +with grim and wrathful eyes, while Puck blew more and more madly on.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 380px;"> +<img src="images/ill_014.jpg" width="380" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>At last it did wake up. It sprang out of the stove, wild and raging; it +grew bigger and bigger; the children fled, the fire behind them—Blossom +ahead, terrified, shrieking, screaming.</p> + +<p>The fire had caught Puck, had wrapped him round in a great sheet of +flame!</p> + +<p>But Blossom cried, and cried, and cried, so bitterly that the fire was +all put out, and there was nothing left but a great black smoke.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_015.jpg" width="400" height="326" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Then Puck gathered together all there was left of him, and they went +sorrowfully on their way to find their egg.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_016.jpg" width="400" height="389" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Ah me! it was broken in two, and gone. But the nest was still hanging on +the tree. In great haste they climbed in, never venturing to leave it +again, and if they are not dead, they are sitting there still.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">the end</span>.</h4> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX" id="OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX"></a> +<img src="images/ill_017.jpg" width="600" height="256" alt="OUR POST-OFFICE BOX." title="" /> +</div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">South Windsor, Connecticut</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We live near the Connecticut River, and when I am out of school I +hunt ducks and musk-rats. I like to ride horseback when I can get +a horse, which is not often, but I can row on the river. I have +two kittens to play with. One of them climbs up on father's back +when he is eating, and when he takes a bite Kitty will try to get +half of it. We live near woods, and in the summer we ramble in +them, and in the autumn we gather nuts. The land here is mostly +cultivated for tobacco, and on the tobacco lots and on the +river-bank we find a number of Indian relics. One of the boys here +found a store of arrow-heads. There were about one hundred +together. I am eleven years old.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><small>B. D. Archer</small>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Fort Custer, Montana Territory</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am ten years old. My papa is captain in the army. I have never +been to school, and can not write quite as nice a letter as some +other little girls of my age. I have a big brother who is +thirteen, and a sister two years and four months. My brother's +name is Willie. Last year he went off to school. Nannie, my +sister, says very funny things. Sometimes she will come running +in, and say, "I am so hunky dory I don't know what to do; want +sonton to neat." Can any little girl tell what this means? I read +a letter from an army girl who is older than I. I looked in the +register to see if her papa's name was there, and I found it. My +papa is in the Eleventh Infantry, and maybe Grace Henton and I +will meet some day. I hope she will see my letter.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Etta M. Gilbreath</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Manchester, New Hampshire</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I like <span class="smcap">Young People</span> a great deal. Papa gets it, and puts a pin in +and cuts it, and we look at it till dinner is ready. When I go to +bed, mamma reads it to me, and lays it on the little table, so I +can look at the pictures before I get up in the morning. On George +Washington's Birthday night I went to the barn to get Sallie, my +cat. I found her in an old barrel, and was going to tip it over, +when I heard something squealing a little squeal. There were two +little kittens there. Mamma named them George and Martha +Washington. I shall be six in May. I told all this to mamma, and +my name is</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">John</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Hartford, Ohio</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Yesterday was Easter, and I and my little brother had twelve dozen +eggs hid. For dinner we decorated some with decalcomanie pictures, +and they were very pretty. I have thirteen little chickens, and a +pet hen which I call Nellie Gray. My canary is named Hettie. Some +of the young correspondents write of spring flowers, but I have +not found any yet.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Maude K.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Bismarck, Dakota Territory</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We have plenty of Indians here, although there are not so many as +there were five years ago. They come now mostly in scouting +parties. The party is often as large as Custer's cavalry that was +here in 1877. Are there many of the readers of <span class="smcap">Young People</span> who +are fond of house-plants? I would like to hear what kinds they +have, and how they take care of them.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">M. R. L.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>We think, judging from their letters, that a large number of the readers +of <span class="smcap">Young People</span> are fond of those beautiful household ornaments. Mary L. S. +wrote a short time since from Arkansas: "My house-plants are my +'pets,' and I assure you I derive as much pleasure from them as if they +were animated." No doubt many others have the same feeling.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Clara Jaquith, in answer to Madison Cooper's question in <span class="smcap">Young People</span> +No. 21, says: "Somar Griffin, of Ohio, is a very old man. I do not know +his exact age, but he is about one hundred and fifteen years old. He +lost an arm about forty years ago by the falling of a tree."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Brooklyn, New York</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The other day a gentleman took dinner with my father, and told us +the following story: "A few years ago I spent several weeks with a +friend who owned a sheep ranch near San Antonio, Texas. I had a +very pleasant time hunting and fishing. One day my friend saw a +large wild-cat trying to get into a sheep corral. He seized his +rifle, and fired at the beast, and it ran off, pursued by the +dogs. That night, when we were all asleep in the tent, I was +awakened by a warm breath on my face. On opening my eyes I saw in +the dim fire-light the form of a large animal. I was very much +frightened, but I had sufficient presence of mind to close my eyes +and keep still. Suddenly the animal left me; and turning my head +slightly, I saw that it had gone to the other side of the tent, +and was eating some of our stores. Very carefully I arose, and +crept outside the tent, where was a pile of wood. Seizing a heavy +stick, I returned softly, and creeping up behind the beast, dealt +it a tremendous blow on the head with my club, which stunned it, +and I soon beat it to death. My companions were awakened by the +noise; and when we replenished the fire and examined the beast, we +found it to be an immense wild-cat. It had a bullet-wound in its +shoulder, and was no doubt the same one my friend had shot at in +the morning."</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">J. Burnet R.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Montclair, New Jersey</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am so interested in the pets which other children write about +that I thought I would tell about Peggy, my gray kitten. She plays +marbles with me; and when I spin my top, she makes believe it is a +mouse, and you ought to see her go for it. When the kitchen door +is shut, and she wants to come in, she springs up to the latch, +holds on with three paws, and presses the latch down with the +other paw, and so walks in. I could tell ever so many funny things +she does, but I am afraid my letter would be too long.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Harry A.</span> (10 years).</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Fort Assiniboine, Montana Territory</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Indians I wrote you about have lived in their tepees all +winter during the very, very cold weather—too cold for me to go +coasting. It was often 49° below zero. These Indians have a large +number of ugly dogs, and sometimes they hitch them to their +travois. The names of the Indians here are Pegans, Gros Ventre, +Crow, Assiniboines, Bloods, and Crees. The Sioux and Nez Percés do +not come very near to us, as they are afraid our soldiers will +fight them. They sent a knife and a pipe to make peace with the +soldiers. All the Indians here are very poor, and are killing +their dogs and horses to eat, as the buffalo have all gone away.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Bertie Brown</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">West Bern, New York</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am eleven years old. I liked the music which was published in +<span class="smcap">Young People</span> very much. My papa, who is teaching me music, taught +me to sing the sailor boy's song in No. 19. We had snow fall day +before yesterday to a depth of eight inches, and now (March 29) +the sleighs are passing on the road, although the spring birds are +hopping about on the trees in the orchard.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Eudora S.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Piney Point, Maryland</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I live in the country, and have two sisters and one brother. We +are all very much interested in the story, "Across the Ocean; or, +a Boy's First Voyage." The United States training-ship <i>Saratoga</i> +was lying in the Potomac River opposite our house last week. About +two hundred and fifty young men were on board, and they were +firing cannons almost all day. My cousin was on this ship a few +years ago, and he said the rules were very strict. The <i>Saratoga</i> +is a very large boat, and the sailors on board are both large and +small boys.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">J. E. M.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Friotown, Texas</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am eight years old, and I live in Southwest Texas, which some +people think a very wild country. I came from Georgia. I have +never seen any Indians here, but I can look out the window and see +wild rabbits running, and I can hear mocking-birds sing. There is +a very odd bird here called chaparral. I went fishing last week on +the Frio River, and I saw some turtles sunning themselves, and +ever so many buffalo-fish swimming in the clear water. Mamma reads +<span class="smcap">Young People</span> to me every evening.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Alfred H. C.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Pine River, Wisconsin</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We are so glad when Saturday comes, for then papa brings <span class="smcap">Young +People</span>. We each have a doll and a little wheelbarrow. We fill our +wheelbarrows with sand, and wheel them round. We bring in wood +sometimes. We want Santa Claus to come. We have some new hats, and +are not going to wear hoods any more. We want to wear pants and +not dresses, but mamma won't let us. Papa writes this, because we +can't write yet, but we have read our primer through.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Charlie</span> (6 years) and <span class="smcap">Frankie</span> (4 years).</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">East Watertown, New York</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I like the story "Across the Ocean" very much. I have two cats, +and a dog named Tip, and a canary named Ned. I am trying to study +architecture, and I have made a plan of a house and a church. I +like architecture very much, and mean to know all about it when I +am a man. I was ten years old the 2d of April. I came pretty near +being an April-Fool, didn't I? I have written this letter all by +myself, for grandma does not know I am writing.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Frank T. W.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Inglewood, Chiswick, London</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It was my birthday yesterday, and my brother gave me <span class="smcap">Young People</span> +for a present. My father and mother are in Italy, rejoicing in +sunshine and flowers. I have no pets to tell you about. We live in +a little village of red brick houses, and it is very pretty here. +I thank you for making the paper larger than it was at first. It +is lovely now.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Mildred C.</span> (12 years).</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mary B. L., a little six-year-old girl, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, +sends the following in big capitals: "A fox went around where he knew +there were some chickens. When he got there, he said,'Come down, and I +will show you something more beautiful than you ever saw.' 'You talk +very nice, but I can not trust you,' said a hen, 'so we can not come +down.'"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Daisy W., of Rochester, New York, reports having made a cake by Puss +Hunter's recipe, and it was very nice.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">St. Louis, Missouri</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We have two pet gold-fish which are turning black. Can any one +tell me what is the trouble with them?</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Virgie C.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Ogdensburg, New York</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am ten years old, and study geography, and I would like to know +why Rhode Island is so called, when it is not an island. I live on +the St. Lawrence River. Last winter more than two thousand teams +crossed on the ice, and this season not even a man could cross on +foot.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Abner C. P.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The first settlement of Rhode Island was made on the island where +Newport is now situated, and which contains about fifty square miles. +The Indian name of the island was Aquetneck. There are various stories +in regard to the origin of the present name, but the one generally +accepted is that it was bestowed on account of a supposed resemblance to +the Isle of Rhodes. The State was afterward named from the island.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">H. W. Singer</span>.—Your question is answered in Post-office Box, <span class="smcap">Young +People</span> No. 7.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sallie R. E.</span>—Read the answer to F. S. in Post-office Box, <span class="smcap">Young People</span> +No. 22.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">J. H. Knox</span>.—March is considered the proper season.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bessie C.</span>—The best way to prevent your bird from eating its eggs is to +put its food in the cage at night, so that when the breakfast hour +arrives there will be something fresh and tempting to distract its +attention. If it still persists in this troublesome habit, we fear there +is no remedy for it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">C. S.</span>—Your inquiry about coloring Easter-eggs came too late to be +answered for this season, but you can practice now, so that by next +Easter you will be able to color eggs "nicely." The best way is to +purchase the coloring matter, as it comes in little packages already +prepared, and with full directions for use. The way you propose would +also be very pretty.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Winnie R.</span>—Keyed musical instruments similar in form to the piano were +in use several hundred years ago. The virginal, shaped like an +old-fashioned square piano, was a favorite instrument at the time of +Queen Elizabeth of England, and by some authorities is supposed to have +been named in honor of the Virgin Queen, as she was called. The +harpsichord, much in use during the last century, was shaped almost +exactly like a modern grand piano. The honor of having invented the +hammer which plays upon the strings of the piano now in use is claimed +by several nations, but the credit is probably due to Italy, although +the first pianos are said to have been made in Germany, probably in the +city of Freyburg. The piano was first called the hammer-harpsichord, +afterward by the Italian name forte-piano, as it could give both loud +and soft tones, while the harpsichord produced only loud ones. The name +was changed later to piano-forte. Pianos are first mentioned as being in +use about the middle of the eighteenth century.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Idella G. S., Edward L. H., and some other young readers in the far +South inquire what are the willow "pussies" which Northern children +gathered with so much glee in the earliest days of spring. They are the +blossoms of the common low willow which grows in great abundance at the +North, and as they are the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> signs that winter is passing away, are +always heartily welcomed. The buds form in the autumn on the brown +twigs, and with the first warm spring sun, long before anything green +has started, they swell, and burst open the brown scaly covering, +disclosing a soft, downy white ament, or blossom, resembling the toe of +a white kitty. This resemblance is perhaps the reason why children call +these early flowers "pussies."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A. Engel</span>.—Directions for feeding mocking-birds are given in Post-office +Box of <span class="smcap">Young People</span> No. 13.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louie T.</span>—Your rabbit-hutch should be in a dry place, and should have +two apartments. The sleeping-room should be boarded in, only you must +have a door which you can open to clean it and supply it with fresh +straw. The other apartment should have grated sides, and there is where +the food should be placed. You must feed your rabbits regularly two or +three times a day. They should have oats or bran for dry food, and +carrot tops, cabbage leaves, and fresh clover frequently. If you have a +yard, let them run in the grass an hour or more every day during warm +weather.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>K. Post's request in <span class="smcap">Young People</span> No. 22 for long English words, has +been answered by Bertha F. H., H. P., Hattie N., Thomas J. F., Albert +H. E., Kent K., Emily J. M., Fanny S., Bertie C., H. H. M., Edith C., +Willie H. H., Herbert N. T., G. A. Page, and others. To print all the +words sent would occupy too much space. We give only a few of the +longest. Supervacaneousness, unconstitutionality, interchangeableness, +incomprehensibleness, anticonstitutionalist, disproportionableness. +<i>Smile</i>s and <i>beleaguered</i> have also been suggested, as one has a mile, +the other a league, between the beginning and the end.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Favors are acknowledged from B. E. Mace, C. Hastings, Fred Burgess, +William Winslow, A. H. Patterson, S. Brown, Jun., Lizzie C., Francis B., +Olive Russell, I. H. M., John Moody, "Mark Marcy," Eddie S. P., Henry +S. P., Henry K., Willie Trott, Alvan G. W., Anna Wierum, Herbie E. L., +Lizzie M., Edwin Wilson, Addie Anderson, Lester O. B., Julius Weller, +Royal, Effie Barker, Fanny Sumner, Altia Austin, Annie Carrier, D. J. +Reinhart, Metz Hayes, Florence R. H., George Wing.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Correct answers to puzzles are received from Philip Cruger, T. H., +George Kyte, Maude K., Laura B. W., F. Ozias, "Sunbeam," Leon M. F., +Fanny S., Sallie Ely, George S. V., W. F. Bruns, E. B. Cooper, A. H. +Ellard, "North Star," John Collins, Lillie MacCrea, Lily B., Annie C., +Charles Slattery, Hattie Norris, M. K. S., S. G. Rosenbaum, H. L. B., +H. K. Pryer, B. L. Townsend, Robert Davidson, M. O., Frank Paine, +C. B. Howard, Allen Smith, George Schilling, Albert Hegeman.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.</h3> + +<h3>No. 1.</h3> + +<h3>NUMERICAL CHARADE.</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">I am composed of 8 letters.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 4, 2, 6 is a boy's name.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 1, 2, 7, 6 is a metal.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 8, 3, 5, 1 is to stain.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My whole was an ancient king.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">A. H. E.</span> (13 years).</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>No. 2.</h3> + +<h3>ENIGMA.</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My first is in hate, but not in love.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My second is in robin, but not in dove.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My third is in throw, but not in shove.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My fourth is in stare, but not in look.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My fifth is in line, but not in hook.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My sixth is in straight, but not in crook.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My seventh is in village, but not in town.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My whole is a fairy of much renown.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">E. S. C. M.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>No. 3.</h3> + +<h3>DIAMOND PUZZLE.</h3> + +<p class="center">In blast. A girl's name. A reptile. To pinch. In blast.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">A. L. B.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>No. 4.</h3> + +<h3>WORD SQUARE.</h3> + +<p class="center">First, a multitude. Second, a musical instrument. Third, to ascend. +Fourth, a portion of time.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Birdie</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>No. 5.</h3> + +<h3>NUMERICAL CHARADE.</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My whole is a South American river of 9 letters.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 5, 3, 7 is a period of time.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 6, 2, 8, 4 is a portion of the earth.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">My 9, 1, 7, 8, 4 is to correct.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">K. L.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>No. 6.</h3> + +<h3>DOUBLE ACROSTIC.</h3> + +<p>A marsh. A tumult. Enormous. A State of the Union. To spread over. A +rope used for a special purpose. Surrounded by water. To assent. +Answer—Two trees.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 42em;"><span class="smcap">Rip Van Winkle</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NO. 22.</h3> + +<h3>No. 1.</h3> + +<p class="center">Fifteen.</p> + +<h3>No. 2.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="10%" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>D</td><td align='center'>roo</td><td align='right'>P</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A</td><td align='center'>nn</td><td align='right'>A</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I</td><td align='center'>n</td><td align='right'>N</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>S</td><td align='center'>treet</td><td align='right'>S</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Y</td><td align='center'>earl</td><td align='right'>Y</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">Daisy, Pansy.</p> + +<h3>No. 3.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="10%" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>S</td><td align='left'>N</td><td align='left'>O</td><td align='left'>W</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>N</td><td align='left'>A</td><td align='left'>M</td><td align='left'>E</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>O</td><td align='left'>M</td><td align='left'>E</td><td align='left'>N</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>W</td><td align='left'>E</td><td align='left'>N</td><td align='left'>T</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h3>No. 4.</h3> + +<p class="center">Noli me tangere.</p> + +<h3>No. 5.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="10%" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>A</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>A</td><td align='left'>N</td><td align='left'>T</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A</td><td align='left'>N</td><td align='left'>G</td><td align='left'>E</td><td align='left'>R</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>T</td><td align='left'>E</td><td align='left'>A</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>R</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h3>No. 6.</h3> + +<p class="center">Whittier.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center">Charade on page 296—Caterpillar.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ADVERTISEMENTS.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harper's Young People</span> will be issued every Tuesday, and may be had at +the following rates—<i>payable in advance, postage free</i>:</p> + +<div class='center'><br /> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Single Copies</span></td><td align='right'>$0.04</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">One Subscription</span>, <i>one year</i></td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Five Subscriptions</span>, <i>one year</i></td><td align='right'>7.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it +will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the +Number issued after the receipt of order.</p> + +<p>Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY ORDER or DRAFT, to avoid +risk of loss.</p> + +<h3>ADVERTISING.</h3> + +<p>The extent and character of the circulation of <span class="smcap">Harper's Young People</span> +will render it a first-class medium for advertising. A limited number of +approved advertisements will be inserted on two inside pages at 75 cents +per line.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Address</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 30em;">HARPER & BROTHERS,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 35em;">Franklin Square, N. Y.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>CANDY</h1> + +<p>Send one, two, three, or five dollars for a sample box, by express, of +the best Candies in America, put up elegantly and strictly pure. Refers +to all Chicago. Address</p> + +<h3>C. F. GUNTHER,</h3> +<h4>Confectioner,</h4> +<h4>78 MADISON STREET, CHICAGO.</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FINE TROUT TACKLE.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/ill_018.jpg" width="200" height="106" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>We offer a fine 3 Joint Fly Rod, 15 yard Brass Reel, 100 ft. Linen Line, +3 Flies, 3 Hooks to gut, & Leader, complete, by express for $5.00; by +mail, postpaid, $5.50; sample Flies by mail, postpaid, 10c. each; per +doz., $1.00; complete Catalogue Free.</p> + +<h3><b>PECK & SNYDER</b>, Manufacturers,</h3> +<h4>124 and 126 Nassau St., N. Y.</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FISHING OUTFITS.</h2> + +<h3>CATALOGUE FREE.</h3> + +<h3>R. SIMPSON, 132 Nassau Street, N. Y.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><b>100</b> <i>Scrap Pictures</i>, 10c.; 100 <i>Transfer Pictures</i>, 10c.; 12 <i>Floral +Embossed Cards</i>, 10c.; 10 <i>Perforated Mottoes</i>, 10c.; 4 <i>Chromo +Mottoes</i>, l0c.; 4 <i>Fine</i> 6x8 <i>Chromos</i>, 10c.; 1 <i>Floral-Surprise</i>, 10c.; +2 <i>Oil Pictures</i>, 9x12, 10c.; 2 <i>Reproductions</i>, 9x12, 10c.; 4 <i>Flower +Panels</i>, 10c.; 2 <i>Stereo Views</i>, 10c.; 1 <i>Perfumed Sachet</i>, 10c.; 1 +<i>Lithograph</i>, 12x16, 10c.; 25 <i>Birthday Cards</i>, 10c. <span class="smcap">All</span> for $1.00, +postpaid. Stamps taken.</p> + +<h3>J. W. FRIZZELL, Baltimore, Md.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Old Books for Young Readers.</h2> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h3>Arabian Nights' Entertainments.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Thousand and One Nights; or, The Arabian Nights' +Entertainments. Translated and Arranged for Family Reading, with +Explanatory Notes, by <span class="smcap">E. W. Lane</span>. 600 Illustrations by Harvey. 2 +vols., 12mo, Cloth, $3.50.</p></div> + +<h3>Robinson Crusoe.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, +Mariner. By <span class="smcap">Daniel Defoe</span>. With a Biographical Account of Defoe. +Illustrated by Adams. Complete Edition. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> + +<h3>The Swiss Family Robinson.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures of a Father and Mother +and Four Sons on a Desert Island. Illustrated. 2 vols., 18mo, +Cloth, $1.50.</p> + +<p>The Swiss Family Robinson—Continued: being a Sequel to the +Foregoing. 2 vols., 18mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> + +<h3>Sandford and Merton.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The History of Sandford and Merton. By <span class="smcap">Thomas Day</span>. 18mo, Half +Bound, 75 cents.</p></div> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h3>Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.</h3> + +<h4>☞ <i>Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the +United States, on receipt of the price.</i></h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHILDREN'S</h2> + +<h3>PICTURE-BOOKS.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Square 4to, about 300 pages each, beautifully printed on Tinted +Paper, embellished with many Illustrations, bound in Cloth, $1.50 +per volume.</p></div> + +<h3>The Children's Picture-Book of Sagacity of Animals.</h3> + +<p class="center">With Sixty Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Harrison Weir</span>.</p> + +<h3>The Children's Bible Picture-Book.</h3> + +<p class="center">With Eighty Illustrations, from Designs by <span class="smcap">Steinle</span>, <span class="smcap">Overbeck</span>, +<span class="smcap">Veit</span>, <span class="smcap">Schnorr</span>, &c.</p> + +<h3>The Children's Picture Fable-Book.</h3> + +<p class="center">Containing One Hundred and Sixty Fables. With Sixty Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">Harrison Weir</span>.</p> + +<h3>The Children's Picture-Book of Birds.</h3> + +<p class="center">With Sixty-one Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Harvey</span>.</p> + +<h3>The Children's Picture-Book of Quadrupeds and other Mammalia.</h3> + +<p class="center">With Sixty-one Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Harvey</span>.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<h3>Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.</h3> + +<h4>☞ <i>Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the +United States, on receipt of the price.</i></h4> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 379px;"> +<img src="images/ill_019.jpg" width="379" height="600" alt=""SPRING, SPRING, BEAUTIFUL SPRING."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"SPRING, SPRING, BEAUTIFUL SPRING."</span> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><b>A Wonderful Clock.</b>—The most astonishing thing ever heard of in the way +of a time-piece is a clock described by a Hindoo Rajah as belonging to a +native Prince of Upper India, and jealously guarded as the rarest +treasure of his luxurious palace. In front of the clock's disk was a +gong, swung upon poles, and near it was a pile of artificial human +limbs. The pile was made up of the full number of parts of twelve +perfect bodies, but all lay heaped together in seeming confusion. +Whenever the hands of the clock indicated the hour of one, out from the +pile crawled just the number of parts needed to form the frame of one +man, part joining itself to part with quick metallic click; and when +completed, the figure sprang up, seized a mallet, and walking up to the +gong, struck one blow that sent the sound pealing through every room and +corridor of that stately palace. This, done, he returned to the pile, +and fell to pieces again. When two o'clock came, two men arose and did +likewise; and so through all the hours, the number of figures being the +same as the number of the hour, till at noon and midnight the entire +heap sprang up, and marching to the gong, struck one after another each +his blow, and then fell to pieces.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PENGUIN_PUZZLE" id="THE_PENGUIN_PUZZLE"></a>THE PENGUIN PUZZLE.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/ill_020.jpg" width="300" height="138" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>With two straight cuts of the scissors change this fish into an absurd +penguin catching a herring.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHARADE" id="CHARADE"></a>CHARADE.</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">An Emperor kneels in sore dismay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">For his enemy cometh apace.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">In this hour of need to whom shall he pray?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">From which of his gods seek grace?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">To his father's God, the One, the Alone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">He cried, and the answer burst</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">On his wondering eyes: a marvel shone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Pledge of hope and help from the God unknown,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">And that answering sign was my <i>first</i>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Some voyagers weary of wooden walls</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Are treading the land once more.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">The father around him his children calls,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Their God, who had saved, to adore.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Seven angels all hasten God's answer to bring,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Of His promise the seal and the sign;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Arrayed is each one as the child of a King;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Together they rival the flowers of spring,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">And together my <i>second</i> they shine.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">King Henry hath crossed over into France</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">With his lords and his nobles gay.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">He would teach the Frenchman quite a new dance,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">And bid him the piper to pay.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Such his design; but the end who can tell?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Who the fortunes of battle control?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">One thing I aver, and none will demur:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">If King Henry succeeds, 'twill be by the deeds</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Of his soldiers, who carry my <i>whole</i>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><b>An Ancient Castle.</b>—The Czarowitz recently visited, with King Oscar II., +the famous old castle of Gripshon, in Sweden. The old keeper showed the +Czarowitz a heap of straw, and told him that his father, the present +Czar, had used it as his bed in the year 1838. Alexander in that year +accompanied his father, Czar Nicholas, to Sweden, and it was during +their visit to the castle that that severe parent insisted upon making +his son sleep on straw. It is popularly believed in Russia that the +stern Nicholas never allowed his son and heir to sleep upon any more +comfortable bed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/ill_021.jpg" width="800" height="358" alt="Anticipation. Consternation. Castigation. LITTLE TOMMY'S FIRST (AND LAST) EXPERIMENT WITH HIS TOY SPIDER." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Anticipation. Consternation. Castigation.<br /><br />LITTLE TOMMY'S FIRST (AND LAST) EXPERIMENT WITH HIS TOY SPIDER.</span><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Most engravings of Gibraltar give a very imperfect idea of +its position, which may be best conveyed by representing the Spanish +coast as a door, and the Rock as the knob of its handle. The latter's +seaward face is a pretty close copy of the Hudson Palisades.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The Rock of Gibraltar is the only spot in Europe where +monkeys are found running wild.</p></div> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, April 20, 1880, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, APR 20, 1880 *** + +***** This file should be named 28790-h.htm or 28790-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/7/9/28790/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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