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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:29 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:29 -0700 |
| commit | eeb85f1f73258cba8374b51996b3a8ea2773a91f (patch) | |
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diff --git a/36750-h/36750-h.htm b/36750-h/36750-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6993ced --- /dev/null +++ b/36750-h/36750-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5866 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of St. Nicholas: For Boys and Girls, 86-09 by Mary Mapes Dodge. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +/*Text and Body*/ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 100%; +} + +h1 { + font-size: 4em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; + margin-top: 2.5em; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.right { + text-align: right; + margin-right: 1em; +} + +hr { + width: 100%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-right: auto; + margin-left: auto; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; +} + +.center { + text-align: center; +} + +.smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; +} + +.padded-table td,th { + padding:4px 8px 4px 8px; + } + +td.right { + text-align: right; +} + +td.left { + text-align: left; +} + +.puzzle { + font-weight: bold; + text-align: left; + letter-spacing: 4px +} + + +/* Image Styles*/ + +.imgcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.imgleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin: 0 1em 1em 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.imgright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.caption { + font-weight: bold; +} + + +/* Footnotes */ + +.footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + +.footnote .label { + position: absolute; + right: 84%; + text-align: right; +} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: 0.8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + +/* Poetry */ + +.poem { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br { + display: none; +} + +.poem .stanza { + margin: 1em 0 1em 0; +} + +.poem span.ind1 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.ind2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.ind3 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.ind4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} +.poem span.ind5 { + display: block; + margin-left: 6em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> + + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of St. Nicholas v. 13 No. 9 July 1886, 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: St. Nicholas v. 13 No. 9 July 1886 + an Illustrated Magazine for Young Folks + +Author: Various + +Editor: Mary Mapes Dodge + +Release Date: July 16, 2011 [EBook #36750] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ST. NICHOLAS V. 13 NO. 9 JULY 1886 *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Alex and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_642" id="Page_642">[Pg 642]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<img src="images/illus642.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="La Fayette and the British Ambassador." title="" /> +<span class="caption">LA FAYETTE AND THE BRITISH AMBASSADOR.</span> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_643" id="Page_643">[Pg 643]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>ST. NICHOLAS.</h1> + +<hr style="width: 70%" /> +<hr style="width: 70%" /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Vol. XIII. JULY, 1886. No. 9.</span></h2> + +<hr style="width: 70%" /> +<hr style="width: 70%" /> + +<h4>[Copyright, 1886, by <span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span>]</h4> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>LA FAYETTE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Mrs. Eugenia M. Hodge.</span></h3> + +<p>One hundred and nine years ago, in the month of February, 1777, a young French guardsman ran away to sea.</p> + +<p>And a most singular running away it was. He did not wish to be a sailor, but he was so anxious to go that he bought a +ship to run away in,—for he was a very wealthy young man; and though he was only nineteen, he held a commission as +major-general in the armies of a land three thousand miles away—a land he had never seen and the language of which +he could not speak. The King of France commanded him to remain at home; his friends and relatives tried to restrain him; +and even the representatives, or agents, of the country in defense of which he desired to fight would not encourage his +purpose. And when the young man, while dining at the house of the British Ambassador to France, openly avowed his +sympathy with a downtrodden people, and his determination to help them gain their freedom, the Ambassador acted quickly. +At his request, the rash young enthusiast was arrested by the French Government, and orders were given to seize his +ship, which was awaiting him at Bordeaux. But ship and owner both slipped away, and sailing from the port of Pasajes in +Spain, the runaway, with eleven chosen companions, was soon on the sea, bound for America, and beyond the reach of both +friends and foes.</p> + +<p>On April 25, 1777, he landed at the little port of Georgetown, at the mouth of the Great Pee Dee river in South +Carolina; and from that day forward the career of Marie Jean Paul Roch Yves Gilbert Motier, Marquis de La Fayette, has +held a place in the history of America, and in the interest and affection of the American people.</p> + +<p>When he first arrived in the land for which he desired to fight, however, he found but a cool reception. The Congress +of the United States was poor, and so many good and brave American officers who had proved their worth were desirous of +commissions as major-generals, that the commission promised to this young Frenchman could not easily be put in force so +far as an actual command and a salary were concerned.</p> + +<p>But the young general had come across the sea for a purpose, and money and position were not parts of that purpose. +He expressed his desire to serve in the American army upon two very singular conditions, namely: that he should receive +no pay, and that he should act as a volunteer. The Congress was so impressed with the enthusiasm and self-sacrifice of +the young Frenchman that, on July 31, 1777, it passed a resolution directing that "his services be accepted and that, in +consideration of his zeal, illustrious family and connections, he have the rank and commission of a Major-General of the +United States."</p> + +<p>General Washington was greatly attracted by the energy and earnestness of the young nobleman. He took him into what +was called his "military family," assigned him to special and honorable duty; and when the young volunteer was wounded +at the battle of Brandywine, the Commander-in-Chief praised his "bravery and military ardor" so highly that the Congress +gave +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_644" id="Page_644">[Pg 644]</a></span> +La Fayette the command of a division. Thus, before he was twenty, he was actually a general, and already, as one +historian says, he had "justified the boyish rashness which his friends deplored and his sovereign resented, and had +acquired a place in history."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding General Washington's assertion to Congress that La Fayette had made "great proficiency in our +language," the young marquis's pronunciation of English was far from perfect. French, Spanish, and Italian were all +familiar to him, but his English was not readily understood by the men he was called upon to command. It was therefore +necessary to find as his aid-de-camp one who could quickly interpret the orders of his commanding officer.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 323px;"> +<img src="images/illus646.jpg" width="323" height="600" alt="Statue of La Fayette by A. Bartholdi - Union Square, New-York City." title="" /> +<span class="caption">STATUE OF LA FAYETTE BY A. BARTHOLDI,—UNION SQUARE, NEW-YORK CITY.</span> +</div> + +<p>Such an aid was at last found in the person of a certain young Connecticut adjutant on the regimental staff of +dashing Brigadier-General Wayne,—"Mad Anthony" Wayne, the hero of Stony Point.</p> + +<p>This young adjutant was of almost the same age as Lafayette; he had received, what was rare enough in those old days, +an excellent college education, and he was said to be the only man in the American army who could speak French and +English equally well.</p> + +<p>These young men, General La Fayette and his aid, grew very fond of each other during an intimate acquaintance of +nearly seven years. The French marquis, with that overflow of spirits and outward demonstration so noticeable in most +Frenchmen, freely showed his affection for the more reserved American—often throwing his arms around his neck, +kissing him upon the cheek and calling him "My brave, my good, my virtuous, my adopted brother!"</p> + +<p>After the battle of Monmouth, which occurred on June 28, 1778, and in which La Fayette's command was engaged against +the British forces, who were routed, the marquis was enthusiastic in praise of the gallant conduct of his friend and +aid. Not content with this, he sent to him some years after, when the aid-de-camp, then a colonel in rank, was elected +to political honors, the following acrostic, as a souvenir, expressive of the esteem and remembrance of his former +commander. The initial letters of each line of the poem will spell out for you the name of this soldier friend of La +Fayette. And here is an exact copy of the acrostic and of the postscript that accompanied it:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Sage of the East! where wisdom rears her head,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Augustus, taught in virtue's path to tread,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">'Mid thousands of his race, elected stands<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Unanimous to legislative bands;<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Endowed with every art to frame just laws,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Learns to hate vice, to virtue gives applause.<br /></span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Augustus, oh, thy name that's ever dear<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Unrivaled stands to crown each passing year!<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Great are the virtues that exalt thy mind.<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Unenvied merit marks thy worth refined.<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Sincerely rigid for your country's right,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">To save her Liberty you deigned to fight;<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Undaunted courage graced your manly brow,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Secured such honors as the gods endow.—<br /></span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Bright is the page; the record of thy days<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Attracts my muse thus to rehearse thy praise.<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Rejoice then, patriots, statesmen, all rejoice!<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Kindle his praises with one general voice!<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Emblazon out his deeds, his virtues prize,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Reiterate his praises to the skies!<br /></span> + </div> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">M. D. La Fayette.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="blockquot"> + <p>P. S.—The Colonel will readily apologize for the inaccuracies of an unskillful muse, and be convinced the high +estimation of his amiable character could alone actuate the author of the foregoing.</p> + <p class="right"><span class="smcap">M. D. La Fayette.</span></p> +</div> + +<p>So the name of the young general's friend and aid-de-camp was Samuel Augustus Barker.</p> + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p>Years passed. The Revolution was over. America was free. The French Revolution, with all its horrors and successes, +had made France a republic. Napoleon had risen, conquered, ruled, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_645" id="Page_645">[Pg 645]</a></span> +fallen, and died, and the first quarter of the nineteenth century was nearly completed, when, in August, 1824, an old +French gentleman who had been an active participant in several of these historic scenes arrived in New York. It was +General the Marquis de La Fayette, now a veteran of nearly seventy, returning to America as the honored guest of the +growing and prosperous republic he had helped to found.</p> + +<p>His journey through the land was like a triumph. Flowers and decorations brightened his path, cheering people and +booming cannon welcomed his approach. And in one of those welcomings, in a little village in Central New York, a cannon, +which was heavily loaded for a salute in honor of the nation's guest, exploded, and killed a plucky young fellow who had +volunteered to "touch off" the over-charged gun when no one else dared. Some months after, the old marquis chanced to +hear of the tragedy, and at once his sympathies were aroused for the widowed mother of the young man.</p> + +<p>He at once wrote to the son of the man who had been his comrade in arms in the revolutionary days half a century +before, asking full information concerning the fatal accident, and the needs of the mother of the poor young man who was +killed; and having thus learned all the facts, sent the sum of one thousand dollars to relieve the mother's necessities +and to pay off the mortgage on her little home.</p> + +<p>I have before me, as I write, the original letter written by the General to the son of his old friend, the paper +marked and yellow with the creases of sixty years; and as I read it again, I feel that of all the incidents of the +singularly eventful life of La Fayette there are none that show his noble nature more fully than those I have noted +here: his enthusiastic services in behalf of an oppressed people, his close and devoted affection for his friend and +comrade, and the impulsive generosity of a heart that was at once manly, tender, and true.</p> + +<p>And as I write, I am grateful that I can claim a certain association with that honored name of La Fayette; for the +young adjutant to whom the acrostic was addressed and the friend through whom the gift to the widow was communicated +were respectively my grandfather and my father.</p> + +<p>It is at least pleasant to know that one's ancestors were the intimate friends of so noble a man, of whom one +biographer has recently said: "He was brave even to rashness, his life was one of constant peril, and yet he never +shrank from any danger or responsibility if he saw the way open to spare life or suffering, to protect the defenseless, +to sustain law and preserve order."</p> + +<p>At the southern extremity of Union Square, in the city of New York, there is a bronze statue of La Fayette. As you +have already been told in <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, it represents him in graceful pose and with earnest +face and gesture, "making offer of his sword to the country he admired—the country that sorely needed his aid. The +left hand is extended as if in greeting and friendly self-surrender, and the right hand, which holds the sword, is +pressed against the breast, as if implying that his whole heart goes with his sword." Lafayette's words, "As soon as I +heard of American independence, my heart was enlisted," are inscribed upon the pedestal of the statue; and a short +distance from it, in the plaza adjoining the square, is an equestrian statue of Washington. It is fitting that the +bronze images of those two great men should thus be placed together, as the names of Washington and La Fayette are +forever coupled in the history and in the affections of the American people.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2>A CHILD'S FANCY.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Frank Dempster Sherman.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The meadow is a battle-field<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">Where Summer's army comes:<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">Each soldier with a clover shield,<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">The honey-bees with drums.<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">Boom, rat-tá!—they march and pass<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">The captain tree who stands<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">Saluting with a sword of grass<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">And giving the commands.<br /></span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">'T is only when the breezes blow<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">Across the woody hills,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">They shoulder arms and, to and fro,<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">March in their full-dress drills.<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">Boom, rat-tá!—they wheel in line<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">And wave their gleaming spears.<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">"March!" cries the captain, giving sign,<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">And every soldier cheers.<br /></span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">But when the day is growing dim<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">They gather in their camps,<br /></span> + <span class="ind1">And sing a good thanksgiving hymn<br /></span> + <span class="ind2">Around their fire-fly lamps.<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">Ra-ta-tá!—the bugle-notes<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">Call "good-night!" to the sky.—<br /></span> + <span class="ind3">I hope they all have overcoats<br /></span> + <span class="ind4">To keep them warm and dry!<br /></span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_646" id="Page_646">[Pg 646]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Frances Hodgson Burnett.</span></h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter X.</span></h4> + + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/illus652.jpg" width="100" height="115" alt="T" title="" /></div> + +<p>he truth was that Mrs. Errol had found a great many sad things in the course of her work among the poor of the little +village that appeared so picturesque when it was seen from the moor-sides. Everything was not as picturesque, when seen +near by, as it looked from a distance. She had found idleness and poverty and ignorance where there should have been +comfort and industry. And she had discovered, after a while, that Erleboro was considered to be the worst village in +that part of the country. Mr. Mordaunt had told her a great many of his difficulties and discouragements, and she had +found out a great deal by herself. The agents who had managed the property had always been chosen to please the Earl, +and had cared nothing for the degradation and wretchedness of the poor tenants. Many things, therefore, had been +neglected which should have been attended to, and matters had gone from bad to worse.</p> + +<p>As to Earl's Court, it was a disgrace, with its dilapidated houses and miserable, careless, sickly people. When first +Mrs. Errol went to the place, it made her shudder. Such ugliness and slovenliness and want seemed worse in a country +place than in a city. It seemed as if there it might be helped. And as she looked at the squalid, uncared-for children +growing up in the midst of vice and brutal indifference, she thought of her own little boy spending his days in the +great, splendid castle, guarded and served like a young prince, having no wish ungratified, and knowing nothing but +luxury and ease and beauty. And a bold thought came into her wise little mother-heart. Gradually she had begun to see, +as had others, that it had been her boy's good fortune to please the Earl very much, and that he would scarcely be +likely to be denied anything for which he expressed a desire.</p> + +<p>"The Earl would give him anything," she said to Mr. Mordaunt. "He would indulge his every whim. Why should not that +indulgence be used for the good of others? It is for me to see that this shall come to pass."</p> + +<p>She knew she could trust the kind, childish heart; so she told the little fellow the story of Earl's Court, feeling +sure that he would speak of it to his grandfather, and hoping that some good results would follow.</p> + +<p>And strange as it appeared to every one, good results did follow. The fact was that the strongest power to influence +the Earl was his grandson's perfect confidence in him—the fact that Cedric always believed that his grandfather +was going to do what was right and generous. He could not quite make up his mind to let him discover that he had no +inclination to be generous at all, and that he wanted his own way on all occasions, whether it was right or wrong. It +was such a novelty to be regarded with admiration as a benefactor of the entire human race, and the soul of nobility, +that he did not enjoy the idea of looking into the affectionate brown eyes, and saying: "I am a violent, selfish old +rascal; I never did a generous thing in my life, and I don't care about Earl's Court or the poor people"—or +something which would amount to the same thing. He actually had learned to be fond enough of that small boy with the mop +of yellow love-locks, to feel that he himself would prefer to be guilty of an amiable action now and then. And +so—though he laughed at himself—after some reflection, he sent for Newick, and had quite a long interview +with him on the subject of the Court, and it was decided that the wretched hovels should be pulled down and new houses +should be built.</p> + +<p>"It is Lord Fauntleroy who insists on it," he said dryly; "he thinks it will improve the property. You can tell the +tenants that it's his idea." And he looked down at his small lordship, who was lying on the hearth-rug playing with +Dougal. The great dog was the lad's constant companion, and followed him about everywhere, stalking solemnly after him +when he walked, and trotting majestically behind when he rode or drove.</p> + +<p>Of course, both the country people and the town people heard of the proposed improvement. At first, many of them +would not believe it; but when a small army of workmen arrived and commenced pulling down the crazy, squalid cottages, +people began to understand that little Lord Fauntleroy had done them a good turn again, and that through his innocent +interference the scandal of Earl's Court had at last been removed. If he had only known how they talked about him and +praised him everywhere, and prophesied great things for him when he grew up, how astonished he would have been! But he +never suspected it. He lived +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_647" id="Page_647">[Pg 647]</a></span> +his simple, happy child life,—frolicking about in the park; chasing the rabbits to their burrows; lying under the +trees on the grass, or on the rug in the library, reading wonderful books and talking to the Earl about them, and then +telling the stories again to his mother; writing long letters to Dick and Mr. Hobbs, who responded in characteristic +fashion; riding out at his grandfather's side, or with Wilkins as escort. As they rode through the market town, he used +to see the people turn and look, and he noticed that as they lifted their hats their faces often brightened very much, +but he thought it was all because his grandfather was with him.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 447px;"> +<img src="images/illus654.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="The Workmen Liked to See Him Stand Among Them, Talking Away, With His Hands in His Pockets" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE WORKMEN LIKED TO SEE HIM STAND AMONG THEM, TALKING AWAY, WITH HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS."</span> +</div> + +<p>"They are so fond of you," he once said, looking up at his lordship with a bright smile. "Do you see how glad they +are when they see you? I hope they will some day be as fond of me. It must be nice to have <em>every</em>body like you." +And he felt quite proud to be the grandson of so greatly admired and beloved an individual.</p> + +<p>When the cottages were being built, the lad and his grandfather used to ride over to Earl's Court together to look at +them, and Fauntleroy was full of interest. He would dismount from his pony and go and make acquaintance with the +workman, asking them questions about building and bricklaying, and telling them things about America. After two or three +such conversations, he was able to enlighten the Earl on the subject of brickmaking, as they rode home.</p> + +<p>"I always like to know about things like those," he said, "because you never know what you are coming to."</p> + +<p>When he left them, the workmen used to talk him over among themselves, and laugh at his odd, innocent speeches; but +they liked him, and liked to see him stand among them, talking away, with his hands in his pockets, his hat pushed back +on his curls, and his small face full of eagerness. "He's a rare un," they used to say. "An' a woise little outspoken +chap too. Not much o' th' bad stock in him." And they would go home and tell their wives about him, and the women would +tell each other, and so it came about that almost every one talked of, or knew some story of, little Lord Fauntleroy; +and gradually almost every one knew that the "wicked Earl" had found something he cared for at last—something +which had touched and even warmed his hard, bitter old heart.</p> + +<p>But no one knew quite how much it had been warmed, and how day by day the old man found himself caring more and more +for the child, who was the only creature that had ever trusted him. He found himself looking forward to the time when +Cedric would be a young man, strong and beautiful, with life all before him, but having still that kind heart and the +power to make friends everywhere; and the Earl wondered what the lad would do, and how he would use his gifts. Often as +he watched the little fellow lying upon the hearth, conning some big book, the light shining on the bright young head, +his old eyes would gleam and his cheek would flush.</p> + +<p>"The boy can do anything," he would say to himself, "anything!"</p> + +<p>He never spoke to any one else of his feeling for Cedric; when he spoke of him to others it was always with the same +grim smile. But Fauntleroy soon knew that his grandfather loved him and always liked him to be near—near to his +chair if they were in the library, opposite to him at table, or by his side when he rode or drove or took his evening +walk on the broad terrace.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember," Cedric said once, looking up from his book as he lay on the rug, "do you remember what I said to +you that first night about our being good companions? I don't think any people could be better companions than we are, +do you?"</p> + +<p>"We are pretty good companions, I should say," replied his lordship. "Come here."</p> + +<p>Fauntleroy scrambled up and went to him.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything you want," the Earl asked; "anything you have not?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_648" id="Page_648">[Pg 648]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little fellow's brown eyes fixed themselves on his grandfather with a rather wistful look.</p> + +<p>"Only one thing," he answered.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" inquired the Earl.</p> + +<p>Fauntleroy was silent a second. He had not thought matters over to himself so long for nothing.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" my lord repeated.</p> + +<p>Fauntleroy answered.</p> + +<p>"It is Dearest," he said.</p> + +<p>The old Earl winced a little.</p> + +<p>"But you see her almost everyday," he said. "Is not that enough?"</p> + +<p>"I used to see her all the time," said Fauntleroy. "She used to kiss me when I went to sleep at night, and in the +morning she was always there, and we could tell each other things without waiting."</p> + +<p>The old eyes and the young ones looked into each other through a moment of silence. Then the Earl knitted his +brows.</p> + +<p>"Do you <em>never</em> forget about your mother?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Fauntleroy, "never; and she never forgets about me. I shouldn't forget about <em>you</em>, you know, +if I didn't live with you. I should think about you all the more."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," said the Earl, after looking at him a moment longer, "I believe you would!"</p> + +<p>The jealous pang that came when the boy spoke so of his mother seemed even stronger than it had been before—it +was stronger because of this old man's increasing affection for the boy.</p> + +<p>But it was not long before he had other pangs, so much harder to face that he almost forgot, for the time, he had +ever hated his son's wife at all. And in a strange and startling way it happened. One evening, just before the Earl's +Court cottages were completed, there was a grand dinner party at Dorincourt. There had not been such a party at the +Castle for a long time. A few days before it took place, Sir Harry Lorridaile and Lady Lorridaile, who was the Earl's +only sister, actually came for a visit—a thing which caused the greatest excitement in the village and set Mrs. +Dibble's shop-bell tingling madly again, because it was well known that Lady Lorridaile had only been to Dorincourt once +since her marriage, thirty-five years before. She was a handsome old lady with white curls and dimpled, peachy cheeks, +and she was as good as gold, but she had never approved of her brother any more than did the rest of the world, and +having a strong will of her own and not being at all afraid to speak her mind frankly, she had, after several lively +quarrels with his lordship, seen very little of him since her young days.</p> + +<p>She had heard a great deal of him that was not pleasant through the years in which they had been separated. She had +heard about his neglect of his wife, and of the poor lady's death; and of his indifference to his children; and of the +two weak, vicious, unprepossessing elder boys who had been no credit to him or to any one else. Those two elder sons, +Bevis and Maurice, she had never seen; but once there had come to Lorridaile Park a tall, stalwart, beautiful young +fellow about eighteen years old who had told her that he was her nephew Cedric Errol, and that he had come to see her +because he was passing near the place and wished to look at his Aunt Constantia of whom he had heard his mother speak. +Lady Lorridaile's kind heart had warmed through and through at the sight of the young man, and she had made him stay +with her a week, and petted him, and made much of him and admired him immensely. He was so sweet-tempered, +light-hearted, spirited a lad, that when he went away, she had hoped to see him often again; but she never did, because +the Earl had been in a bad humor when he went back to Dorincourt, and had forbidden him ever to go to Lorridaile Park +again. But Lady Lorridaile had always remembered him tenderly, and though she feared he had made a rash marriage in +America, she had been very angry when she heard how he had been cast off by his father and that no one really knew where +or how he lived. At last there came a rumor of his death, and then Bevis had been thrown from his horse and killed, and +Maurice had died in Rome of the fever; and soon after came the story of the American child who was to be found and +brought home as Lord Fauntleroy.</p> + +<p>"Probably to be ruined as the others were," she said to her husband, "unless his mother is good enough and has a will +of her own to help her to take care of him."</p> + +<p>But when she heard that Cedric's mother had been parted from him she was almost too indignant for words.</p> + +<p>"It is disgraceful, Harry!" she said. "Fancy a child of that age being taken from his mother, and made the companion +of a man like my brother! The old Earl will either be brutal to the boy or indulge him until he is a little monster. If +I thought it would do any good to write——"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't, Constantia," said Sir Harry.</p> + +<p>"I know it wouldn't," she answered. "I know his lordship the Earl of Dorincourt too well;—but it is +outrageous."</p> + +<p>Not only the poor people and farmers heard about little Lord Fauntleroy; others knew of him. He was talked about so +much and there were so many stories of him—of his beauty, his sweet temper, his popularity, and his growing +influence over the Earl, his grandfather—that rumors of him + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_649" id="Page_649">[Pg 649]</a></span> + +reached the gentry at their country places and he was heard of in more than one county of England. People talked about +him at the dinner tables, ladies pitied his young mother, and wondered if the boy were as handsome as he was said to be, +and men who knew the Earl and his habits laughed heartily at the stories of the little fellow's belief in his lordship's +amiability. Sir Thomas Asshe of Asshaine Hall, being in Erleboro one day, met the Earl and his grandson riding together +and stopped to shake hands with my lord and congratulate him on his change of looks and on his recovery from the gout. +"And, d'ye know!" he said, when he spoke of the incident afterward, "the old man looked as + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_650" id="Page_650">[Pg 650]</a></span> + +proud as a turkey-cock; and upon my word I don't wonder, for a handsomer, finer lad than his grandson I never saw! As straight as a dart, and sat +his pony like a young trooper!"</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 511px;"> +<img src="images/illus658.jpg" width="511" height="600" alt="'I was thinking how beautiful you are,' said Lord Fauntleroy." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'I WAS THINKING HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE,' SAID LORD FAUNTLEROY." (<a href="#Page_651">SEE PAGE 651.</a>)</span> +</div> + +<p>And so by degrees Lady Lorridaile, too, heard of the child; she heard about Higgins, and the lame boy, and the +cottages at Earl's Court, and a score of other things,—and she began to wish to see the little fellow. And just as +she was wondering how it might be brought about, to her utter astonishment, she received a letter from her brother +inviting her to come with her husband to Dorincourt.</p> + +<p>"It seems incredible!" she exclaimed. "I have heard it said that the child has worked miracles, and I begin to +believe it. They say my brother adores the boy and can scarcely endure to have him out of sight. And he is so proud of +him! Actually, I believe he wants to show him to us." And she accepted the invitation at once.</p> + +<p>When she reached Dorincourt Castle with Sir Harry, it was late in the afternoon, and she went to her room at once +before seeing her brother. Having dressed for dinner she entered the drawing-room. The Earl was there standing near the +fire and looking very tall and imposing; and at his side stood a little boy in black velvet, and a large Vandyke collar +of rich lace—a little fellow whose round bright face was so handsome, and who turned upon her such beautiful, +candid brown eyes, that she almost uttered an exclamation of pleasure and surprise at the sight.</p> + +<p>As she shook hands with the Earl, she called him by the name she had not used since her girlhood.</p> + +<p>"What, Molyneux," she said, "is this the child?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Constantia," answered the Earl, "this is the boy. Fauntleroy, this is your grand-aunt, Lady Lorridaile."</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Grand-Aunt?" said Fauntleroy.</p> + +<p>Lady Lorridaile put her hand on his shoulders, and after looking down into his upraised face a few seconds, kissed +him warmly.</p> + +<p>"I am your Aunt Constantia," she said, "and I loved your poor papa, and you are very like him."</p> + +<p>"It makes me glad when I am told I am like him," answered Fauntleroy, "because it seems as if every one liked +him,—just like Dearest, eszackly,—Aunt Constantia," (adding the two words after a second's pause.)</p> + +<p>Lady Lorridaile was delighted. She bent and kissed him again, and from that moment they were warm friends.</p> + +<p>"Well, Molyneux," she said aside to the Earl afterward, "it could not possibly be better than this!"</p> + +<p>"I think not," answered his lordship dryly. "He is a fine little fellow. We are great friends. He believes me to be +the most charming and sweet-tempered of philanthropists. I will confess to you, Constantia,—as you would find it +out if I did not,—that I am in some slight danger of becoming rather an old fool about him."</p> + +<p>"What does his mother think of you?" asked Lady Lorridaile, with her usual straightforwardness.</p> + +<p>"I have not asked her," answered the Earl, slightly scowling.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Lady Lorridaile, "I will be frank with you at the outset, Molyneux, and tell you I don't approve of your +course, and that it is my intention to call on Mrs. Errol as soon as possible; so if you wish to quarrel with me, you +had better mention it at once. What I hear of the young creature makes me quite sure that her child owes her everything. +We were told even at Lorridaile Park that your poorer tenants adore her already."</p> + +<p>"They adore <em>him</em>," said the Earl, nodding toward Fauntleroy. "As to Mrs. Errol, you'll find her a pretty +little woman. I'm rather in debt to her for giving some of her beauty to the boy, and you can go to see her if you like. +All I ask is that she will remain at Court Lodge and that you will not ask me to go and see her," and he scowled a +little again.</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't hate her as much as he used to, that is plain enough to me," her ladyship said to Sir Harry +afterward. "And he is a changed man in a measure, and, incredible as it may seem, Harry, it is my opinion that he is +being made into a human being, through nothing more nor less than his affection for that innocent, affectionate little +fellow. Why, the child actually loves him—leans on his chair and against his knee. My lord's own children would as +soon have thought of nestling up to a tiger."</p> + +<p>The very next day she went to call upon Mrs. Errol. When she returned, she said to her brother:</p> + +<p>"Molyneux, she is the loveliest little woman I ever saw! She has a voice like a silver bell, and you may thank her +for making the boy what he is. She has given him more than her beauty, and you make a great mistake in not persuading +her to come and take charge of you. I shall invite her to Lorridaile."</p> + +<p>"She'll not leave the boy," replied the Earl.</p> + +<p>"I must have the boy too," said Lady Lorridaile, laughing.</p> + +<p>But she knew Fauntleroy would not be given up to her, and each day she saw more clearly how closely those two had +grown to each other, and how all the proud, grim old man's ambition and hope and love centered themselves in the child, +and how + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_651" id="Page_651">[Pg 651]</a></span> + +the warm, innocent nature returned his affection with most perfect trust and good faith.</p> + +<p>She knew, too, that the prime reason for the great dinner party was the Earl's secret desire to show the world his +grandson and heir, and to let people see that the boy who had been so much spoken of and described was even a finer +little specimen of boyhood than rumor had made him.</p> + +<p>"Bevis and Maurice were such a bitter humiliation to him," she said to her husband. "Every one knew it. He actually +hated them. His pride has full sway here." Perhaps there was not one person who accepted the invitation without feeling +some curiosity about little Lord Fauntleroy, and wondering if he would be on view.</p> + +<p>And when the time came he was on view.</p> + +<p>"The lad has good manners," said the Earl. "He will be in no one's way. Children are usually idiots or +bores,—mine were both,—but he can actually answer when he's spoken to, and be silent when he is not. He is +never offensive."</p> + +<p>But he was not allowed to be silent very long. Every one had something to say to him. The fact was they wished to +make him talk. The ladies petted him and asked him questions, and the men asked him questions too, and joked with him, +as the men on the steamer had done when he crossed the Atlantic. Fauntleroy did not quite understand why they laughed so +sometimes when he answered them, but he was so used to seeing people amused when he was quite serious, that he did not +mind. He thought the whole evening delightful. The magnificent rooms were so brilliant with lights, there were so many +flowers, the gentlemen seemed so gay, and the ladies wore such beautiful, wonderful dresses, and such sparkling +ornaments in their hair and on their necks. There was one young lady who, he heard them say, had just come down from +London, where she had spent the "season"; and she was so charming that he could not keep his eyes from her. She was a +rather tall young lady with a proud little head, and very soft dark hair, and large eyes the color of purple pansies, +and the color on her cheeks and lips was like that of a rose. She was dressed in a beautiful white dress, and had pearls +around her throat. There was one strange thing about this young lady. So many gentlemen stood near her, and seemed +anxious to please her, that Fauntleroy thought she must be something like a princess. He was so much interested in her +that without knowing it he drew nearer and nearer to her and at last she turned and spoke to him.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Lord Fauntleroy," she said, smiling; "and tell me why you look at me so."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking how beautiful you are," his young lordship replied.</p> + +<p>Then all the gentlemen laughed outright, and the young lady laughed a little too, and the rose color in her cheeks +brightened.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Fauntleroy," said one of the gentlemen who had laughed most heartily, "make the most of your time! When you are +older you will not have the courage to say that."</p> + +<p>"But nobody could help saying it," said Fauntleroy sweetly. "Could you help it? Don't <em>you</em> think she is +pretty too?"</p> + +<p>"We are not allowed to say what we think," said the gentleman, while the rest laughed more than ever.</p> + +<p>But the beautiful young lady—her name was Miss Vivian Herbert—put out her hand and drew Cedric to her +side, looking prettier than before, if possible.</p> + +<p>"Lord Fauntleroy shall say what he thinks," she said; "and I am much obliged to him. I am sure he thinks what he +says." And she kissed him on his cheek.</p> + +<p>"I think you are prettier than any one I ever saw," said Fauntleroy, looking at her with innocent, admiring eyes, +"except Dearest. Of course, I couldn't think any one <em>quite</em> as pretty as Dearest. I think she is the prettiest +person in the world."</p> + +<p>"I am sure she is," said Miss Vivian Herbert. And she laughed and kissed his cheek again.</p> + +<p>She kept him by her side a great part of the evening, and the group of which they were the center was very gay. He +did not know how it happened, but before long he was telling them all about America, and the Republican Rally, and Mr. +Hobbs and Dick, and in the end he proudly produced from his pocket Dick's parting gift,—the red silk +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"I put it in my pocket to-night because it was a party," he said. "I thought Dick would like me to wear it at a +party."</p> + +<p>And queer as the big, flaming, spotted thing was, there was a serious, affectionate look in his eyes, which prevented +his audience from laughing very much.</p> + +<p>"You see I like it," he said, "because Dick is my friend."</p> + +<p>But though he was talked to so much, as the Earl had said, he was in no one's way. He could be quiet and listen when +others talked, and so no one found him tiresome. A slight smile crossed more than one face when several times he went +and stood near his grandfather's chair, or sat on a stool close to him, watching him and absorbing every word he uttered +with the most charmed interest. Once he stood so near the chair's arm that his cheek touched the Earl's shoulder, and +his lordship, detecting the general smile, smiled a little + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_652" id="Page_652">[Pg 652]</a></span> + +himself. He knew what the lookers-on were thinking, and he felt some secret amusement in their seeing what a good friend +he was to this youngster, who might have been expected to share the popular opinion of him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Havisham had been expected to arrive in the afternoon, but, strange to say, he was late. Such a thing had really +never been known to happen before during all the years in which he had been a visitor at Dorincourt Castle. He was so +late that the guests were on the point of rising to go in to dinner when he arrived. When he approached his host, the +Earl regarded him with amazement. He looked as if he had been hurried or agitated; his dry, keen old face was actually +pale.</p> + +<p>"I was detained," he said, in a low voice to the Earl, "by—an extraordinary event."</p> + +<p>It was as unlike the methodic old lawyer to be agitated by anything as it was to be late, but it was evident that he +had been disturbed. At dinner he ate scarcely anything, and two or three times, when he was spoken to, he started as if +his thoughts were far away. At dessert, when Fauntleroy came in, he looked at him more than once, nervously and +uneasily. Fauntleroy noted the look and wondered at it. He and Mr. Havisham were on friendly terms, and they usually +exchanged smiles. The lawyer seemed to have forgotten to smile that evening.</p> + +<p>The fact was he forgot everything but the strange and painful news he knew he must tell the Earl before the night was +over—the strange news which he knew would be so terrible a shock, and which would change the face of everything. +As he looked about at the splendid rooms and the brilliant company,—at the people gathered together, he knew, more +that they might see the bright-haired little fellow near the Earl's chair than for any other reason,—as he looked +at the proud old man and at little Lord Fauntleroy smiling at his side, he really felt quite shaken, notwithstanding +that he was a hardened old lawyer. What a blow it was that he must deal them!</p> + +<p>He did not exactly know how the long, superb dinner ended. He sat through it as if he were in a dream, and several +times he saw the Earl glance at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>But it was over at last, and the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing-room. They found Fauntleroy sitting on a +sofa with Miss Vivian Herbert,—the great beauty of the last London season; they had been looking at some pictures, +and he was thanking his companion, as the door opened.</p> + +<p>"I'm ever so much obliged to you for being so kind to me!" he was saying; "I never was at a party before, and I've +enjoyed myself so much!"</p> + +<p>He had enjoyed himself so much that when the gentlemen gathered about Miss Herbert again and began to talk to her, as +he listened and tried to understand their laughing speeches, his eyelids began to droop. They drooped until they covered +his eyes two or three times, and then the sound of Miss Herbert's low, pretty laugh would bring him back, and he would +open them again for about two seconds. He was quite sure he was not going to sleep, but there was a large, yellow satin +cushion behind him and his head sank against it, and after a while his eyelids drooped for the last time. They did not +even quite open when, as it seemed a long time after, some one kissed him lightly on the cheek. It was Miss Vivian +Herbert, who was going away, and she spoke to him softly.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, little Lord Fauntleroy," she said. "Sleep well."</p> + +<p>And in the morning he did not know that he had tried to open his eyes and had murmured sleepily,</p> + +<p>"Good-night—I'm so—glad—I saw you—you are so—pretty——"</p> + +<p>He only had a very faint recollection of hearing the gentlemen laugh again and of wondering why they did it.</p> + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/illus664.jpg" width="100" height="151" alt="N" title="" /></div> + +<p>o sooner had the last guest left the room, than Mr. Havisham turned from his place by the fire, and stepped nearer +the sofa, where he stood looking down at the sleeping occupant. Little Lord Fauntleroy was taking his ease luxuriously. +One leg crossed the other and swung over the edge of the sofa; one arm was flung easily above his head; the warm flush +of healthful, happy, childish sleep was on his quiet face; his waving tangle of bright hair strayed over the yellow +satin cushion. He made a picture well worth looking at.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Havisham looked at it, he put his hand up and rubbed his shaven chin, with a harassed countenance.</p> + +<p>"Well, Havisham," said the Earl's harsh voice behind him. "What is it? It is evident something has happened. What was +the extraordinary event, if I may ask?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Havisham turned from the sofa, still rubbing his chin.</p> + +<p>"It was bad news," he answered, "distressing news, my lord—the worst of news. I am sorry to be the bearer of +it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_653" id="Page_653">[Pg 653]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Earl had been uneasy for some time during the evening, as he glanced at Mr. Havisham, and when he was uneasy he +was always ill-tempered.</p> + +<p>"Why do you look so at the boy!" he exclaimed irritably. "You have been looking at him all the evening as +if—See here now, why should you look at the boy, Havisham, and hang over him like some bird of ill-omen! What has +your news to do with Lord Fauntleroy?"</p> + +<p>"My lord," said Mr. Havisham, "I will waste no words. My news has everything to do with Lord Fauntleroy. And if we +are to believe it—it is not Lord Fauntleroy who lies sleeping before us, but only the son of Captain Errol. And +the present Lord Fauntleroy is the son of your son Bevis, and is at this moment in a lodging-house in London."</p> + +<p>The Earl clutched the arms of his chair with both his hands until the veins stood out upon them; the veins stood out +on his forehead too; his fierce old face was almost livid.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean!" he cried out. "You are mad! Whose lie is this?"</p> + +<p>"If it is a lie," answered Mr. Havisham, "it is painfully like the truth. A woman came to my chambers this morning. +She said your son Bevis married her six years ago in London. She showed me her marriage certificate. They quarreled a +year after the marriage, and he paid her to keep away from him. She has a son five years old. She is an American of the +lower classes,—an ignorant person,—and until lately she did not fully understand what her son could claim. +She consulted a lawyer and found out that the boy was really Lord Fauntleroy and the heir to the earldom of Dorincourt; +and she, of course, insists on his claims being acknowledged."</p> + +<p>There was a movement of the curly head on the yellow satin cushion. A soft, long, sleepy sigh came from the parted +lips, and the little boy stirred in his sleep, but not at all restlessly or uneasily. Not at all as if his slumber were +disturbed by the fact that he was being proved a small impostor and that he was not Lord Fauntleroy at all and never +would be the Earl of Dorincourt. He only turned his rosy face more on its side as if to enable the old man who stared at +it so solemnly to see it better.</p> + +<p>The handsome, grim old face was ghastly. A bitter smile fixed itself upon it.</p> + +<p>"I should refuse to believe a word of it," he said, "if it were not such a low, scoundrelly piece of business that it +becomes quite possible in connection with the name of my son Bevis. It is quite like Bevis. He was always a disgrace to +us. Always a weak, untruthful, vicious young brute with low tastes—my son and heir, Bevis, Lord Fauntleroy. The +woman is an ignorant, vulgar person, you say?"</p> + +<p>"I am obliged to admit that she can scarcely spell her own name," answered the lawyer. "She is absolutely uneducated +and openly mercenary. She cares for nothing but the money. She is very handsome in a coarse way, but——"</p> + +<p>The fastidious old lawyer ceased speaking and gave a sort of shudder.</p> + +<p>The veins on the old Earl's forehead stood out like purple cords. Something else stood out upon it too—cold +drops of moisture. He took out his handkerchief and swept them away. His smile grew even more bitter.</p> + +<p>"And I," he said, "I objected to—to the other woman, the mother of this child" (pointing to the sleeping form +on the sofa); "I refused to recognize her. And yet she could spell her own name. I suppose this is retribution."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he sprang up from his chair and began to walk up and down the room. Fierce and terrible words poured forth +from his lips. His rage and hatred and cruel disappointment shook him as a storm shakes a tree. His violence was +something dreadful to see, and yet Mr. Havisham noticed that at the very worst of his wrath he never seemed to forget +the little sleeping figure on the yellow satin cushions, and that he never once spoke loud enough to awaken it.</p> + +<p>"I might have known it," he said. "They were a disgrace to me from their first hour! I hated them both; and they +hated me! Bevis was the worse of the two. I will not believe this yet, though! I will contend against it to the last. +But it is like Bevis—it is like him!"</p> + +<p>And then he raged again and asked questions about the woman, about her proofs, and pacing the room, turned first +white and then purple in his repressed fury.</p> + +<p>When at last he had learned all there was to be told, and knew the worst, Mr. Havisham looked at him with a feeling +of anxiety. He looked broken and haggard and changed. His rages had always been bad for him, but this one had been worse +than the rest because there had been something more than rage in it.</p> + +<p>He came slowly back to the sofa, at last, and stood near it.</p> + +<p>"If any one had told me I could be fond of a child," he said, his harsh voice low and unsteady, "I should not have +believed them. I always detested children—my own more than the rest. I am fond of this one; he is fond of me," +(with a bitter smile.) "I am not popular; I never was. But he is fond of me. He never was afraid of me—he always +trusted me. He would have filled my place +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_654" id="Page_654">[Pg 654]</a></span> +better than I have filled it. I know that. He would have been an honor to the name."</p> + +<p>He bent down and stood a minute or so looking at the happy, sleeping face. His shaggy eyebrows were knitted fiercely, +and yet somehow he did not seem fierce at all. He put up his hand, pushed the bright hair back from the forehead, and +then turned away and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>When the largest footman appeared, he pointed to the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Take"—he said, and then his voice changed a little—"take Lord Fauntleroy to his room."</p> + +<p class="center">(<em>To be continued.</em>)</p> + +<hr /> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_655" id="Page_655">[Pg 655]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THREE VELVETY BEES.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By M. M. D.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/illus667.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Three velvety, busy, buzzing bees</span> + <span class="ind1">Once plunged in a thistle plant up to their knees.</span> + <span class="ind1">Alas! Though plucky and stout of heart,</span> + <span class="ind1">They bounded away with an angry start.</span> + <span class="ind1">For the thistle's the touchiest thing that grows;</span> + <span class="ind1">It's the firework plant—as every one knows.</span> + <span class="ind1">And every buzzer should pass it by</span> + <span class="ind1">On the day that is known as the Fourth of July.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + + +<h2>FLY-FISHING FOR TROUT.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Ripley Hitchcock.</span></h3> + +<p>There was once a boy who thought that he could choose his birthday present more wisely than could his father and +mother. He wanted an "arrow rifle"—a useless affair which has long since gone to the place where toys which are +failures go. He was disappointed however. His birthday brought him not an "arrow rifle," but a light, jointed +fishing-rod. Now this boy had already done some fishing with a heavy bamboo pole, or with one cut from an alder, jerking +the fish out of the water, and swinging them over his head. To be sure the heavy pole made his arms ache, but his new +rod, which bent at every touch, seemed to him too slender and flimsy to be of any use whatever.</p> + +<p>I fear he was not very grateful at first, but he was properly rebuked when his father took a day from professional +cares, and opened the lad's eyes to the pleasure of fishing with light tackle. When he had learned to "cast" flies with +his elastic, strong rod, without hooking somebody or something not meant to be hooked; when he had seen the beautiful +vermilion-spotted trout flash clear of the water, tempted by the flies; and when he had found that he could tire out and +land larger fish than he had ever caught before, simply by pitting against their cunning and strength, skill and +patience instead of mere brute force,—then there was opened to that boy a new world of sport and healthy +recreation. He has never regretted the "arrow rifle"; and he now proposes to tell the boys as well as the girls who read +<span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> how to obtain something which is within the reach of both,—the greatest +possible pleasure from fishing.</p> + +<p>If one could take a bird's-eye view of our country +at any time in the summer, he would see boys +and girls catching all kinds of fish in all kinds of +ways; some off the coast in sailboats, tugging at +bluefish or mackerel, others profiting by <span class="smcap">St. +Nicholas's</span> lessons in black-bass fishing, some +"skittering" for pickerel in New England lakes, +others trolling for pike in the lakes and rivers of the +West. But of all the fresh-water game fish there +is none more beautiful and graceful or more active +than the trout.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus670a.jpg" width="400" height="153" alt="Rainbow Trout." title="" /> +<span class="caption">RAINBOW TROUT.</span> +</div> + +<p>Any New York boy who has never caught a trout should go down to Fulton Market at the opening of the trout season, +when trout are gathered there from all parts of the country. He will see "rainbow" trout from the Rocky Mountains, their +sides iridescent, and stained as if marked by a bloody finger. These are being introduced into Eastern waters. He will +find trout in the blackest of mourning robes and others gayly dressed in silver tinsel. Sometimes the vermilion spots on +the side shine like fire; again they are as dull as if the fire had gone out and left only gray ashes. For there are +several varieties of trout known to naturalists and traveled fishermen, and even the brook trout, called by the +formidable name of <em>Salmo fontinalis</em>, varies greatly in color and shape in different localities. In Arizona, I +have caught trout which were fairly black. In Dublin Lake in New Hampshire, the trout look like bars of polished silver +as they are drawn up through the water. I never saw a more sharply marked contrast than that between the trout of two +little Maine lakes, near the head-waters of the Androscoggin River. In one, the trout were long, and as thin as +race-horses, and their flesh was of a salmon-pink hue; in the other, not half a mile away, the trout were short, thick, +and almost hump-backed, with darker skins and lighter flesh. The first lake had a sandy, gravelly bottom, and the water +was clear as crystal; the bottom of the second was muddy, and the water dark and turbid. This explained the difference +in the fish, a difference always existing in trout of brooks or lakes under the same conditions.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus670b.jpg" width="400" height="179" alt="Rangeley Lake Trout." title="" /> +<span class="caption">RANGELEY LAKE TROUT.</span> +</div> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 423px;"> +<img src="images/illus671.jpg" width="423" height="600" alt="Trout-rod and Tackle." title="" /> +<span class="caption"><em>Trout-rod and Tackle</em>.</span> +</div> +<p>In the great Androscoggin Lakes of Maine, the trout, which are brook trout, grow to the largest size known anywhere. +They have been caught weighing twelve pounds, and many claimed that + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_656" id="Page_656">[Pg 656]</a></span> + +they were lake trout, until the famous naturalist Agassiz decided that, although living in lakes, they were true brook +trout. These immense trout have very thick bodies and cruel hooked jaws; but the guides can point out many contrasts +between trout from different lakes, or even from different parts of the same lake. There are trout nearly as large in +the rivers of the British Provinces, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Quebec, but these are usually lighter colored, and +they are quite another variety, being known as sea trout, or <em>Salmo trutta</em>. All this adds to the interest of +trout-fishing by inducing the angler to acquaint himself with what the Natural Histories have to tell him about the +various kinds of trout. Then the differences in one kind teach him to be observant and excite a curiosity as to the +habits of the trout. Here the Natural Histories will fail him. Only by following trout brooks and tempting the larger +trout of lakes, can he properly study the ways and curious moods of this cunning, timid fish. And even then, if he be +modest, he will often confess himself sadly puzzled; for the trout's wits are sometimes more than a match for the +fisherman's. And this adds to the pleasure of trout-fishing; for if one had to deal with a fish which would bite at any +bait, under any circumstances, and give up the fight as soon as hooked, the sport would soon grow very stupid. In +trout-fishing, one will study the best conditions of wind, weather, and water, and learn how to approach one of the +shyest of fish, how to delude one of the most wary, and how safely to land one of the pluckiest. To do this it is +necessary to have reliable "tackle," a term which includes rod, reel, line, leaders, flies, and landing net. The rod +must be so light that one can cast with it easily and persistently, and yet it must be strong enough to bend into all +manner of curves without breaking, and to tire out large trout. If it is too stiff, the fisherman's arm will soon be +wearied, and if it is too flexible or withy, it will not cast flies well, and it will not hold fish firmly if the angler +needs to bring a strain upon them. In attempts to meet these requirements, fly rods have been made of split bamboo, ash +and lance-ood, bethabara, greenheart, cedar, hickory, hornbeam, iron-wood, snake-wood, shadblow and perhaps twenty other +woods, and there have even been experiments in making rods of thin steel tubes. The split bamboo rods are made of four +or six triangular strips cut from the rind of Calcutta bamboo and carefully fitted and glued together. Sometimes the +surface is rounded, but oftener it has six sides. These rods, when they are really good, are the best of all. Indeed, +Americans may justly claim to make the finest rods in the world and also the finest lines. But I should not advise any +of my readers to buy a split bamboo fly rod, because these rods are very expensive, they require very careful treatment, +and if broken they must go back to the maker to be repaired. The fly rod which I recommend to the boys and girls of +<span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> is one with an ash butt, and the second joint and tip of lance-wood. It should +be from ten feet to ten feet and a half in length, and should weigh about seven ounces and a half. Such a rod can be +obtained from any reliable dealer in any large city. I emphasize reliable because there are fishing-tackle stores where +one may get rods nice to look at, but worthless to use. Nearly all dealers keep what is called an "all around" rod, +intended to be used, for either fly or bait fishing, but this, like most compromises is usually unsatisfactory. This, or +something like it, will probably be shown you if you ask for a boy's rod, so that it is better to tell the dealer or +rod-maker exactly what you want, and to accept nothing else. If he takes a pride in his work and has a reputation to +sustain, he will interest himself in picking out a rod of sound, well-seasoned wood, evenly balanced, elastic, with a +good action, and a peculiar "kick" in the second joint, which is of great service in casting a fly. If + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_657" id="Page_657">[Pg 657]</a></span> + +some one can help you in making your choice, so much the better. Then it will be well to attach a reel and line to the +rod and try it in actual casting, if this is possible; and when the rod is bent, see that the bend is an even curve. The +pleasure of fly-fishing depends upon the quality of the rod, and the choice should therefore be made deliberately and +wisely. Some fishermen make their own rods, and there are dealers who supply materials for amateur rod-makers; but this +is a difficult undertaking and can not be described here.<a name="FNanchor_A" id="FNanchor_A"></a><a href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> I should advise any boy to go to a professional maker for +his first fly rod.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus672.jpg" width="400" height="285" alt="Young Anglers." title="" /> +<span class="caption">YOUNG ANGLERS.</span> +</div> + +<p>The "enameled water-proof" lines are the best. These are braided from boiled silk, and prepared to resist the action +of water, which will cause the decay of an ordinary line. Of the various sizes, which are distinguished by letters, that +known as F is perhaps most desirable, although either E or F will answer the purpose. The line should be "level," not +tapering, and at least twenty-five yards in length. This will be wound upon a "click" reel of equal capacity, preferably +nickel-plated. But this is of less importance than the internal construction of the reel, for which you should have the +maker's guarantee. Now come the flies. There are names enough to fill a directory, and a greater variety of colors than +the woods show in autumn. A few flies like the "Montreal," "Professor," "Scarlet Ibis," "Coachman," and "the Hackles," +are to be found in almost every angler's book. For the rest, it will be well to learn, from some experienced angler or +intelligent dealer, the flies best suited to the particular waters which you intend to fish. At the Rangeley lakes, for +example, you will find that large, gaudy flies are much used, like the "Parmachenee Belle," "Silver and Golden Doctor," +and "Grizzly King," and there is one local fly called the "Katoodle Bug." In the Adirondacks, smaller flies of quieter +colors are favored. For brook-fishing, very small flies of neutral tints are much used except when the water is very +dark. A fly-book will be needed to contain flies and also leaders. The leader is a piece of "silk-worm gut," which +should be about six feet in length. One end is fastened to the line, and the stretcher-fly is made fast at the other. +One or two other flies, called droppers, are + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_658" id="Page_658">[Pg 658]</a></span> + +usually attached at intervals of two feet or more along the leader. Before making your choice, the leaders should be +closely examined to see whether any part is frayed or cracked. They can be tested by a pull of four or five pounds on a +spring balance. The leader is used as being less conspicuous than the line in the water, and, therefore, less likely to +frighten away trout approaching the flies. Most leaders are dyed a misty bluish color which, it is thought, will escape +even the keen eyes of the trout. A landing-net, the size and strength of which depend upon the fishing-ground, completes +the list of tackle.</p> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus673.jpg" width="400" height="167" alt="Trout Flies." title="" /> +<span class="caption">TROUT FLIES.</span> +</div> + +<p>The next step is to learn how to cast a fly, and here practice and the advice of some experienced fly-fisherman will +be worth more than printed instructions.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary, however, to wait for summer nor for access to water, in order to practice casting. A housetop, a +dooryard, or even the spacious floor of an old-fashioned barn, as the case may be, offers just as good a chance for +practice as a lake or river. When the rod is jointed together, the reel attached, and the line passed through the rings +and beyond the tip about the length of the rod, the learner is usually seized with a wild desire to flourish rod and +line like a whip with a long snapper. This feeling must promptly be suppressed. Fly-casting is a very simple movement, +and not a flourish. The elbow is kept down at the side, the forearm moving only a little, and most of the work is done +by the wrist. Holding the rod by the "grip," the part of the butt wound with silk or rattan to assist the grasp, one +finds that the reel, which is just below the "grip," aids in balancing the rod. The reel is underneath in casting. After +hooking a fish, many anglers turn their rods so as to bring the reel to the upper side, thus letting the strain of the +line come upon the rod itself instead of upon the rings. In holding the "grip," the thumb should be extended straight +along the rod, as this gives an additional "purchase." For the first cast, take the end of the line in the left hand, +and bring the rod upward and backward until the line is taut. As you release the line, the spring of the rod carries the +line backward. This is the back cast. Then comes an instant's pause, while the line straightens itself out behind, and +then, with a firm motion of the wrist, helped a little by the forearm, the rod is thrown forward, and the line flies +easily out in front. Begin with a line once or once-and-a-half as long as the rod, and lengthen it out by degrees. The +main points to be remembered are: to keep the elbow at the side, to train the wrist, to move the rod not too far forward +or back, always to wait until the line is straight behind on the back cast, and to make sure that in this the line falls +no lower than your head, a process which it will take time to accomplish. There is no more awkward fault than that of +whipping a rod down to a level with the horizon before and behind, and swishing the flies through the air until some of +them are snapped off.</p> + +<p>When the learner becomes accustomed to handling his rod, he must try to perfect himself in two matters of great +importance—accuracy and delicacy. Place a small piece of paper fifteen or twenty feet away, and aim at making the +knot in the end of the line fall easily and quietly upon it. Your efforts will be aided if you will raise the point of +the rod a trifle, just as the forward impulse of the line is spent, and the line itself is straightened in the air for +an instant in front. This is a novel kind of target-shooting, but its usefulness will be realized when the angler finds +it necessary to drop his flies so lightly just over the head of some particularly wary trout, that the fish, although +too shy or lazy to move a yard, will be persuaded that some tempting natural flies have foolishly settled on the water +just within reach of his jaws. By practice of this kind, which is an excellent form of light exercise in itself, any boy +or girl can learn a very fascinating art. It is not necessary to make very long casts. At fly-casting tournaments in +Central Park, casts have been made of about ninety feet, but in actual fishing a third of that distance is usually +sufficient. Never cast more line than you can conveniently and safely handle.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 503px;"> +<img src="images/illus674.jpg" width="503" height="600" alt="Capturing Two Fish At Once,—Or 'Landing A Double'." title="" /> +<span class="caption">CAPTURING TWO FISH AT ONCE,—OR "LANDING A DOUBLE."</span> +</div> + +<p>And now that we are ready to go a-fishing, the question arises, "Where shall we go?" The cold, bitter weather common +in early April is not favorable to fishermen or fish. When May sunshine brings the leaves out on the trees, and fields +are + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_659" id="Page_659">[Pg 659]</a></span> + +green and skies are blue, then Long Island may well tempt any New York boy who has a holiday to spend in fly-fishing. +Years ago, any Long Island water could be fished without question, but now nearly all the Long Island brooks and ponds +are "preserved,"—that is, kept for personal use by clubs or private owners. A boy who has a friend or relative +among the owners of these preserves, or can hire a fishing privilege, can enjoy trout-fishing within a journey of two or +three hours from his New York home. Within a few hours' ride, also, are trout streams in the southern counties of New +York State and in Pennsylvania, although the former are so often visited that the fish have not time to grow large. The +New England boy finds trout brooks in western Connecticut, in northern Massachusetts, and in the Cape Cod region, in +northern New Hampshire and Vermont, and especially in Maine. Once, almost every stream and lake in New England contained +trout. But forests were cut down, and some of the streams dwindled until they went dry in summer. Saw-mills were built, +the streams were dammed up so as to be impassable for trout, and the trout eggs were buried under sawdust. Manufactories +have poisoned the water of some rivers and others have been literally "fished dry." The + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_660" id="Page_660">[Pg 660]</a></span> + +trout of any brook near a large New England town have a very poor chance of long life. All this is discouraging enough, +but yet there are trout to be caught, as every New England boy knows.</p> + +<p>The most famous fishing-places in the East are the Rangeley Lakes in Maine and the Adirondacks in New York. About the +third week of May the ice goes out of the great chain of lakes forming the head-waters of the Androscoggin River in +Maine. Then the red-shirted river-drivers come down with "drives" of logs, which dash through the sluiceways of immense +dams between the different lakes. And while the brown pine trunks are still shooting through the dams, fishermen begin +to gather from all parts of the country, for in the clear cold water of these lakes the trout, feeding upon myriads of +minnows, grow to be the giants of their race. I can wish no better piscatorial fortune for the children of <span +class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> than a visit to Maine with father or brother, and the capture of one of these large +trout. I must confess, however, that the large trout are not to be depended upon; but there are small fish always to be +caught in the little lakes and brooks of the region, and there are pleasant forest camps with cheerful fires blazing in +great stone fireplaces. The host of one of these camps was for a long time a hunter and guide, and every winter he +lectures before Boston schoolboys, dressed in his hunter's garb, and tells them about trapping and the adventures of +life in the woods.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus675.jpg" width="400" height="399" alt="Interior of a Fishing-Camp." title="" /> +<span class="caption">INTERIOR OF A FISHING-CAMP.</span> +</div> + +<p>If one can continue further into the North-east, better fishing can be found in New Brunswick and Quebec than in +Maine, although the trout of the Provinces are sea trout, a distinction which does not seem to me important. The trout +of the Adirondacks are much smaller than those of Maine or New Brunswick, and now that the Adirondack country is overrun +with visitors, one must go back some distance into the woods to find good sport. South of Pennsylvania, there is +trout-fishing in the mountain streams of West Virginia and North Carolina. To the west, northern Michigan tempts the +angler, and still further north are the large trout of the Nepigon river which flows into Lake Superior. The States +along the Mississippi Valley are sadly deficient in trout, but a great deal can be done with black bass, as Mr. Maurice +Thompson has told you. Trout abound all along the Rocky Mountains. There are the lusty five-pounders of the Snake River +in Idaho, the rainbow trout of California, found also, I think, in Colorado, and the dusky fish of New Mexico and +Arizona. I do not expect that many of <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas's</span> readers will visit these remote +fishing-places, but between the three corners of the continent in which I have caught trout—Quebec, Washington +Territory, and Arizona—there are so many chances for trout-fishing, that very few need fail to enjoy this most +delightful of outdoor sports.</p> + +<p>The best month for fly-fishing is June, and the best weather a light southerly or southwesterly breeze and a slightly +overcast sky. Morning or evening is the best time. The worst is the middle of an intensely hot, bright, still day. It is +usually thought that a change in the weather makes trout more active. Very high or very low water is undesirable. Yet +when all the conditions seem perfect, one may cast over a whole school of trout without inducing them to stir a fin; and +on the other hand, when the weather is most unfavorable and when the fish are gorged with food, they will, sometimes, +fairly hustle one another in their eagerness to get the flies. On one hot July noon, the air and water around my boat +were alive with trout for half an hour, when they stopped rising as suddenly as they had begun, without any apparent +reason in one + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_661" id="Page_661">[Pg 661]</a></span> + +case or the other. Within two forenoon hours, I once caught twenty-five pounds of trout at the mouth of a brook emptying +into one of the Rangeley lakes. Early next morning, I was rowed to the same spot and found only one solitary trout. On +another occasion, I landed a five-pound and a three-pound trout from a pool in a Canadian river, without unduly +disturbing the water; but although the pool contained several other fish, including one estimated to weigh over five +pounds, not another trout could be induced to look at any fly in my book. Trout are very fickle and changeable, and the +ingenuity sometimes required to coax them to rise adds as much zest to the sport as the suspense and excitement of +hooking and landing them.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus676.jpg" width="600" height="313" alt="A Mountain Lake." title="" /> +<span class="caption">A MOUNTAIN LAKE.</span> +</div> + +<p>But when the trout does rise, what do you suppose he thinks? Does he really believe that the curious creature with a +barbed tail hovering over his head is a natural fly? I doubt it. The flies ordinarily used would drive an entomologist +to distraction. The great scarlet and white and yellow flies which have caused so many Rangeley lake trout to come to +grief are, I fancy, unlike any living insect in that region, or anywhere else. The trout sees something moving on the +water, and as experience has taught him that such fluttering objects are usually good to eat, his weakness for live food +tempts him to pounce upon it without stopping to reason out the matter. But when he finds that this deceitful fly is +entirely tasteless, he will drop it at once, unless the fisherman is prompt in "striking." This means a quick upward +movement of the tip of the rod, a motion imparted, of course, at the butt, but communicated along rod and line. The +movement "strikes" the hook into the fish. One can not be too quick in striking, but if too much force be used, the rod +may be snapped at the second joint. Yet that is not the way in which rods are most frequently broken. If you have drawn +in your flies so closely that you can not readily recover them, and your rod is pointing nearly straight upward, even a +gentle attempt to strike a small fish is likely to break a rod. Once, I was fishing with a heavy rod from a raft which +was drifting across a Canadian lake. The wind was so strong that I was obliged to cast with it, and then the raft +rapidly drifted down upon my flies. A trout weighing not a quarter of a pound rose when my rod was nearly perpendicular, +and the flies were close before me; instinctively I struck. The reward of my carelessness was that the rod, which would +have landed a ten-pound fish, was cleanly broken into two pieces. Never draw the flies so near you that you have not +safe and complete control of your rod, either for the back cast or for a strike.</p> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus677.jpg" width="400" height="321" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The importance of the high back cast of which I have spoken, will be especially appreciated by <span +class="smcap">St. Nicholas's</span> boys and girls, for most of their trout-fishing will probably be done upon brooks +where a low back cast would involve entanglement in grass or bushes. In brook-fishing it is usually necessary to use a +comparatively short line, and one must learn to make under-hand casts,—that is, with the rod down to a horizontal +level on either side, instead of being upright, something easily + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_662" id="Page_662">[Pg 662]</a></span> + +learned after one can cast properly over-hand. Of course my readers will see that they must keep themselves and their +shadows out of the sight of the timid trout. When a fish is hooked, let him run out the reel if he is large enough, +unless he makes for stumps or brush where the line may get entangled. Then as much of a strain must be brought to bear +upon him as the tackle will withstand; and always reel in line when it is possible. The line should never be slack. If +the trout will not rise at first, change your flies and try the old rule of looking closely at the insects which hover +over the water and selecting a fly from your book that imitates those insects as nearly as possible. The best general +rule is to use small dark flies in bright, clear water, and larger bright flies in dark or turbid water. I need hardly +say that fish are not to be lifted out of the water with a fly-rod. Let the trout run and struggle until the strain of +the rod tires him out so that he can be easily drawn within reach and lifted out with the landing-net.</p> + +<p>So you see that in fly-fishing for trout you learn a very fascinating art, which can be practiced among the most +delightful of outdoor surroundings in the pleasantest months of the year. You will learn much more than books can tell +you about the habits and curious ways of a fish which the most experienced anglers have considered for hundreds of years +as, next to the salmon, their most worthy game. You will learn patience, perseverance, and all manner of practical +lessons on trout streams, including the tying of knots and the repairing of rods. And the sunshine, the fragrance of +flowery meadows, and the cool breath of the woods will give you a health which can not be found indoors. But let me urge +upon you to remember that the true sportsman is always generous in his treatment of the noble fish which he pursues. He +will never catch trout out of season. He will never kill more trout than can be made use of, nor will he ever kill them +by unfair means. And he will never catch tiny troutlings, too small to afford sport, lest he should exhaust the streams, +but he will carefully restore to the water any trout which are not at least six inches long. <span class="smcap">St. +Nicholas's</span> fly-fishers who meet the gallant trout on fair and even terms will surely give the beautiful fish +honorable treatment.</p> + +<p>And when you go a-fishing, bearing these words in mind, may you be rewarded by baskets well filled with trout of +noble size.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A" id="Footnote_A"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A"> +<span class="label">[A]</span></a> "Fly Rods and Fly Tackle," by Mr. H. P. Wells, explains methods of making and repairing rods and other tackle, and gives much valuable instruction in fly-fishing.</p></div> + + +<hr /> + +<h2>DAISY-SONG.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Grace Denio Lttchfield.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">I am only a plain little daisy-flower,</span> + <span class="ind1">Sprung up at hap-hazard 'neath sunshine and shower,</span> + <span class="ind1">To live out as I may my life's poor little hour,</span> + <span class="ind4">Yet who is so happy as I?</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Oh, the days they burn hot, and the nights they blow cold,</span> + <span class="ind1">And the shadows and rains,—true they fall, manifold;</span> + <span class="ind1">But my dress is all white, and my heart is pure gold,</span> + <span class="ind4">And who is so happy as I?</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">There 's many a gladsomer meadow than mine,</span> + <span class="ind1">Where greener trees shelter and softer suns shine</span> + <span class="ind1">For others than me; but how can I repine,</span> + <span class="ind4">For who is so happy as I?</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">There 's a brook I can't see by that far-away beech,</span> + <span class="ind1">And a bird that wont whistle, for all I beseech,</span> + <span class="ind1">And stars are up yonder, quite out of my reach,</span> + <span class="ind4">But who is so happy as I?</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">I just look up at Fate with my brave little face,</span> + <span class="ind1">I stir from my post in no possible case,</span> + <span class="ind1">And I keep my dress clean, my gold heart in its place,</span> + <span class="ind4">And who is so happy as I?</span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_663" id="Page_663">[Pg 663]</a></span></p> + + +<h2>GEORGE WASHINGTON.</h2> +<h4>[<em>An Historical Biography.</em>]</h4> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Horace E. Scudder.</span></h3> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> +<h5>AT VALLEY FORGE.</h5> + +<p>The winter of 1777 passed with little fighting; and when the spring opened, Washington used his army so adroitly as +to prevent the British from moving on Philadelphia, and finally crowded them out of New Jersey altogether. That summer, +however, was an anxious one, for there was great uncertainty as to the plans of the enemy; and when at last a formidable +British army appeared in the Chesapeake, whither it had been transported by sea, Washington hurried his forces to meet +it, and fought the battle of Brandywine, in which he met with a severe loss. He retrieved his fortune in part by a +brilliant attack on the enemy at Germantown, and then retired to Valley Forge, in Pennsylvania, where he went into +winter quarters; while the British army was comfortably established in Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>The defeat of Burgoyne by Gates, at Saratoga, in the summer and Washington's splendid attack at Germantown had made a +profound impression in Europe, and are counted as having turned the scale in favor of an alliance with the United States +on the part of France. But when the winter shut down on the American army, no such good cheer encouraged it. That winter +of 1778 was the most terrible ordeal which the army endured, and one has but to read of the sufferings of the soldiers +to learn at how great a cost independence was bought. It is worth while to tell again the familiar story, because the +leader of the army himself shared the want and privation of the men. To read of Valley Forge is to read of +Washington.</p> + +<p>The place was chosen for winter quarters because of its position. It was equally distant with Philadelphia from the +Brandywine and from the ferry across the Delaware into New Jersey. It was too far from Philadelphia to be in peril from +attack, and yet it was so near that the American army could, if opportunity offered, descend quickly on the city. Then +it was so protected by hills and streams that the addition of a few lines of fortification made it very secure.</p> + +<p>But there was no town at Valley Forge, and it became necessary to provide some shelter for the soldiers other than +the canvas tents which served in the field in summer. It was the middle of December when the army began preparations for +the winter, and Washington gave directions for the building of the little village. The men were divided into parties of +twelve, each party to build a hut to accommodate that number; and in order to stimulate the men, Washington promised a +reward of twelve dollars to the party in each regiment which finished its hut first and most satisfactorily. And as +there was some difficulty in getting boards, he offered a hundred dollars to any officer or soldier who should invent +some substitute which would be as cheap as boards and as quickly provided.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus680.jpg" width="600" height="345" alt="Building The Huts At Valley Forge." title="" /> +<span class="caption">BUILDING THE HUTS AT VALLEY FORGE.</span> +</div> + +<p>Each hut was to be fourteen feet by sixteen, the sides, ends, and roof to be made of logs, and the sides made tight +with clay. There was to be a fireplace in the rear of each hut, built of wood, but lined with clay eighteen inches +thick. The walls were to be six and a half feet high. Huts + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_664" id="Page_664">[Pg 664]</a></span> + +were also to be provided for the officers, and to be placed in the rear of those occupied by the troops. All these were +to be regularly arranged in streets. A visitor to the camp when the huts were being built, wrote of the army; "They +appear to me like a family of beavers, every one busy; some carrying logs, others mud, and the rest plastering them +together." It was bitterly cold, and for a month the men were at work, making ready for the winter.</p> + +<p>But in what sort of condition were the men themselves when they began this work? Here is a picture of one of those +men on his way to Valley Forge: "His bare feet peep through his worn-out shoes, his legs nearly naked from the tattered +remains of an only pair of stockings, his breeches not enough to cover his nakedness, his shirt hanging in strings, his +hair disheveled, his face wan and thin, his look hungry, his whole appearance that of a man forsaken and neglected." And +the snow was falling! This was one of the privates. The officers were scarcely better off. One was wrapped "in a sort of +dressing-gown made of an old blanket or woolen bed-cover." The uniforms were torn and ragged; the guns were rusty; a few +only had bayonets; the soldiers carried their powder in tin boxes and cow-horns.</p> + +<p>To explain why this army was so poor and forlorn, would be to tell a long story. It may be summed up briefly in these +words—the army was not taken care of because there was no country to take care of it. There were thirteen States, +and each of these States sent troops into the field, but all the States were jealous of one another. There was a +Congress, which undertook to direct the war, but all the members of Congress, coming from the several States, were +jealous of one another. They were agreed on only one thing—that it was not prudent to give the army too much +power. It is true that they had once given Washington large authority, but they had given it only for a short period. +They were very much afraid that somehow the army would rule the country, and yet they were trying to free the country +from the rule of England. But when they talked about freeing the country, each man thought only of his own State. The +first fervor with which they had talked about a common country had died away; there were some very selfish men in +Congress, who could not be patriotic enough to think of the whole country.</p> + +<p>The truth is, it takes a long time for the people of a country to come to feel that they have a country. Up to the +time of the war for independence, the people in America did not care much for one another or for America. They had +really been preparing to be a nation, but they did not know it. They were angry with Great Britain, and they knew they +had been wronged. They were therefore ready to fight; but it does not require so much courage to fight as to endure +suffering and to be patient.</p> + +<p>So it was that the people of America who were most conscious that they were Americans were the men who were in the +army, and their wives and mothers and sisters at home. All these were making sacrifices for their country and so +learning to love it. The men in the army came from different States, and there was a great deal of State feeling among +them; but, after all, they belonged to one army, the continental army, and they had much more in common than they had +separately. Especially they had a great leader who made no distinction between Virginians and New England men. +Washington felt keenly all the lack of confidence which Congress showed. He saw that the spirit in Congress was one +which kept the people divided, while the spirit at Valley Forge kept the people united, and he wrote reproachfully to +Congress:</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"If we would pursue a right system of policy, in my opinion, ... we should all, Congress and +army, be considered as one people, embarked in one cause, in one interest; acting on the same principle, and to the same +end. The distinction, the jealousies set up, or perhaps only incautiously let out, can answer not a single good +purpose.... No order of men in the thirteen States has paid a more sacred regard to the proceedings of Congress than the +army; for without arrogance or the smallest deviation from truth it may be said, that no history now extant can furnish +an instance of an army's suffering such uncommon hardships as ours has done, and bearing them with the same patience and +fortitude. To see men, without clothes to cover them, without blankets to lie on, without shoes (for the want of which +their marches might be traced by the blood from their feet), and almost as often without provisions as with them, +marching through the frost and snow, and at Christmas taking up their winter quarters within a day's march of the enemy, +without a house or hut to cover them, till they could be built, and submitting without a murmur, is a proof of patience +and obedience, which, in my opinion, can scarce be paralleled."</p> + +<p>The horses died of starvation, and the men harnessed themselves to trucks and sleds, hauling wood and provisions from +storehouse to hut. At one time there was not a ration in camp. Washington seized the peril with a strong hand and +compelled the people in the country about, who had been selling to the British army at Philadelphia, to give up their +stores to the patriots at Valley Forge.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the wives of the officers came to the camp, and these brave women gave of their cheer to its dreary life. +Mrs. Washington was there with her husband. "The General's apartment is very small," she wrote to a friend; "he has had +a log cabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much more tolerable than they were at first."</p> + +<p>The officers and their wives came together and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_665" id="Page_665">[Pg 665]</a></span> + +told stories, perhaps over a plate of hickory nuts, which, we are informed, furnished General Washington's dessert. The +General was cheerful in the little society; but his one thought was how to keep the brave company of men alive and +prepare them for what lay before them. The house where he had his quarters was a farmhouse belonging to a quaker, Mr. +Potts, who has said that one day when strolling up the creek, away from the camp, he heard a deep, quiet voice a little +way off. He went nearer, and saw Washington's horse tied to a sapling. Hard by, in the thicket, was Washington on his +knees, praying earnestly.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus683.jpg" width="600" height="467" alt="At Valley Forge." title="" /> +<span class="caption">AT VALLEY FORGE.</span> +</div> + +<p>At the end of February, light began to break. The terrible winter was passing away, though the army was still in +wretched state. But there came to camp, a volunteer, Baron Steuben, who had been trained in the best armies of Europe. +In him Washington had, what he greatly needed, an excellent drill-master. He made him Inspector of the army, and soon, +as if by magic, the men changed from slouching, careless fellows into erect, orderly soldiers. The Baron began with a +picked company of one hundred and twenty men, whom he drilled thoroughly; these became the models for others, and so the +whole camp was turned into a military school.</p> + +<p>The prospect grew brighter and brighter, until on the 4th of May, late at night, a messenger rode into camp with +dispatches from Congress. Washington opened them, and his heart must have leaped for joy as he read that an alliance had +been formed between France and the United States. Two days later, the army celebrated the event. The chaplains of the +several regiments read the intelligence and then offered up thanksgiving to God. Guns were fired, and there was a public +dinner in honor of Washington and his generals. There had been shouts for the King of France and for the American +States; but when Washington took his leave, "there was," says an officer who was present, universal applause, "with loud +huzzas, which continued till he had proceeded a quarter of a mile, during which time there were a thousand hats tossed +in the air. His excellency turned round with his retinue, and huzzaed several times."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_666" id="Page_666">[Pg 666]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> +<h5>THE CONWAY CABAL.</h5> + +<p>There is no man so high but some will always be found who wish to pull him down. Washington was no exception to this +rule. His men worshiped him; the people had confidence in him; the officers nearest to him, and especially those who +formed a part of his military family, were warmly attached to him; but in Congress there were men who violently opposed +him, and there were certain generals who not only envied him but were ready to seize any opportunity which might offer +to belittle him and to place one of their own number in his place. The chief men who were engaged in this business were +Generals Conway, Mifflin, and Gates, and from the prominent position taken in the affair by the first-named officer, the +intrigue against Washington goes by the name of the Conway Cabal. A "cabal" is a secret combination against a person +with the object of his hurt or injury.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to say just how or when this cabal first showed itself. Conway was a young brigadier-general, very +conceited and impudent. Mifflin had been Quartermaster-general, but had resigned. He had been early in the service and +was in Cambridge with Washington, but had long been secretly hostile to him. Gates, who had been Washington's companion +in Virginia, was an ambitious man who never lost an opportunity of looking after his own interest, and had been +especially fortunate in being appointed to the command of the northern army just as it achieved the famous victory over +Burgoyne.</p> + +<p>The defeat at Brandywine, the failure to make Germantown a great success, and the occupation of Philadelphia by the +British troops, while the American army was suffering at Valley Forge—all this seemed to many a sorry story +compared with the brilliant victory at Saratoga. There had always been those who thought Washington slow and cautious. +John Adams was one of these, and he expressed himself as heartily glad "that the glory of turning the tide of arms was +not immediately due to the commander-in-chief." Others shook their heads and said that the people of America had been +guilty of idolatry by making a man their god; and that, besides, the army would become dangerous to the liberties of the +people if it were allowed to be so influenced by one man.</p> + +<p>Conway was the foremost of these critics. "No man was more a gentleman than General Washington, or appeared to more +advantage at his table, or in the usual intercourse of life," he would say; then he would give his shoulders a shrug, +and look around and add, "but as to his talents for the command of an army, they were miserable indeed."</p> + +<p>"Gates was the general!" Conway said. "There was a man who could fight, and win victories!"</p> + +<p>Gates himself was in a mood to believe it. He had been so intoxicated by his success against Burgoyne that he thought +himself the man of the day, and quite forgot to send a report of the action to his commander-in-chief. Washington +rebuked him in a letter which was severe in its quiet tone. He congratulated Gates on his great success, and added, "At +the same time, I can not but regret that a matter of such magnitude, and so interesting to our general operations, +should have reached me by report only; or through the channel of letters not bearing that authenticity which the +importance of it required, and which it would have received by a line over your signature stating the simple fact."</p> + +<p>Gates may have winced under the rebuke, but he was then listening to Conway's flattery, and that was more agreeable +to him. Conway, on his part, found Gates a convenient man to set up as a rival to Washington. He himself did not aspire +to be commander-in-chief, though he would have had no doubt as to his capacity. Washington knew him well. "His merit as +an officer," wrote the Commander-in-chief, "and his importance in this army exist more in his own imagination than in +reality. For it is a maxim with him to leave no service of his own untold, nor to want anything which is to be obtained +by importunity." Conway thought Gates was the rising man, and he meant to rise with him. He filled his ear with things +which he thought would please him, and among other letters wrote him one in which these words occurred: "Heaven has +determined to save your country, or a weak general and bad counselors would have ruined it."</p> + +<p>Now Gates was foolish enough to show this letter to Wilkinson, one of his aids, and Wilkinson repeated it to an aid +of Lord Stirling, one of Washington's generals, and Lord Stirling at once sat down and wrote it off to Washington. +Thereupon Washington, who knew Conway too well to waste any words upon him, sat down and wrote him this letter:</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"<span class="smcap">Sir,</span>—A letter which I received last night contained the following +paragraph:</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"'In a letter from General Conway to General Gates he says: Heaven has determined to save your +country, or a weak general and bad counselors would have ruined it.'</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"I am, Sir, your humble servant,</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"<span class="smcap">George Washington</span>."</p> + +<p>That was all, but it was quite enough to throw Conway and Gates and Mifflin into a panic. How did Washington get hold +of the sentence? Had + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_667" id="Page_667">[Pg 667]</a></span> + +he seen any other letters? How much did he know? In point of fact, that was all that Washington had seen. He had a +contempt for Conway. He knew of Mifflin's hostility and that Gates was now cool to him; but he did not suspect Gates of +any intrigue, and he supposed for a while that Wilkinson's message had been intended only to warn him of Conway's evil +mind.</p> + +<p>Gates was greatly perplexed to know what to do, but he finally wrote to Washington as if there were some wretch who +had been stealing letters and might be discovering the secrets of the American leaders. He begged Washington to help him +find the rascal. Washington replied, giving him the exact manner in which the letter came into his hands, and then +closed with a few sentences that showed Gates clearly that he had lost the confidence of his commander-in-chief.</p> + +<p>That particular occasion passed, but presently the cabal showed its head again, this time working through Congress. +It secured the appointment of a Board of War, with Gates at the head, and a majority of the members from men who were +hostile to Washington. Now, they thought, Washington will resign, and to help matters on they spread the report that +Washington was about to resign. The general checkmated them at once by a letter to a friend, in which he wrote:</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"To report a design of this kind is among the arts which those who are endeavoring to effect a +change, are practicing to bring it to pass.... While the public are satisfied with my endeavors, I mean not to shrink +from the cause. But the moment her voice, <em>not that of faction</em>, calls upon me to resign, I shall do it with as +much pleasure as ever the wearied traveler retired to rest."</p> + +<p>The cabal was not yet defeated. It had failed by roundabout methods. It looked about in Congress and counted the +disaffected to see if it would be possible to get a majority vote in favor of a motion to arrest the commander-in-chief. +So at least the story runs which, from its nature, would not be found in any record, but was whispered from one man to +another. The day came when the motion was to be tried; the conspiracy leaked out, and Washington's friends bestirred +themselves. They needed one more vote. They sent post-haste for one of their number, Gouverneur Morris, who was absent +in camp; but they feared they could not get him in time. In their extremity, they went to William Duer, a member from +New York, who was dangerously ill. Duer sent for his doctor.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," he asked, "can I be carried to Congress?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but at the risk of your life," replied the physician.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that I should expire before reaching the place?" earnestly inquired the patient.</p> + +<p>"No," came the answer; "but I would not answer for your leaving it alive."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir. You have done your duty and I will do mine!" exclaimed Duer. "Prepare a litter for me; if you will +not, somebody else will, but I prefer your aid."</p> + +<p>The demand was in earnest, and Duer had already started when it was announced that Morris had returned and that he +would not be needed. Morris had come direct from the camp with the latest news of what was going on there. His vote +would make it impossible for the enemies of Washington to carry their point; their opportunity was lost, and they never +recovered it.</p> + +<p>It was not the end of the cabal, however. They still cherished their hostility to Washington, and they sought to +injure him where he would feel the wound most keenly. They tried to win from him the young Marquis de La Fayette, who +had come from France to join the American army, and whom Washington had taken to his heart. La Fayette was ambitious and +enthusiastic. Conway, who had been in France, did his best to attach himself to the young Frenchman, but he betrayed his +hatred of Washington, and that was enough to estrange La Fayette. Then a winter campaign in Canada was planned, and the +cabal intrigued to have La Fayette appointed to command it. It was argued that as a Frenchman he would have an influence +over the French Canadians. But the plotters hoped that, away from Washington, the young marquis could be more easily +worked upon, and it was intended that Conway should be his second in command.</p> + +<p>Of course, in contriving this plan, Washington was not consulted; but the moment La Fayette was approached, he +appealed to Washington for advice. Washington saw through the device, but he at once said, "I would rather it should be +you than another." La Fayette insisted on Kalb being second in command instead of Conway, whom he disliked and +distrusted. Congress was in session at York, and thither La Fayette went to receive his orders. Gates, who spent much of +his time in the neighborhood of Congress, seeking to influence the members, was there, and La Fayette was at once +invited to join him and his friends at dinner. The talk ran freely, and great things were promised of the Canada +expedition, but not a word was said about Washington. La Fayette listened and noticed. He thought of the contrast +between the meager fare and the sacrifices at Valley Forge, and this feast at which he was a guest. He watched his +opportunity, and near the end of the dinner, he said:</p> + +<p>"I have a toast to propose. There is one health, gentlemen, which we have not yet drunk. I have the honor to propose +it to you: The Commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States!"</p> + +<p>It was a challenge which no one dared openly + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_668" id="Page_668">[Pg 668]</a></span> + +to take up, but there was an end to the good spirits of the company. La Fayette had shown his colors, and he was let +alone after that. Indeed, the Canada expedition never was undertaken, for the men who were urging it were not in earnest +about anything but diminishing the honor of Washington. It is the nature of cabals and intrigues that they flourish in +the dark. They can not bear the light. As soon as these hostile intentions began to reach the ears of the public, great +was the indignation aroused, and one after another of the conspirators made haste to disown any evil purpose. Gates and +Mifflin each publicly avowed their entire confidence in Washington, and Conway, who had fought a duel and supposed +himself to be dying, made a humble apology. The cabal melted away, leaving Washington more secure than ever in the +confidence of men—all the more secure that he did not lower himself by attempting the same arts against his +traducers. When Conway was uttering his libels behind his back, Washington was openly declaring his judgment of Conway; +and throughout the whole affair, Washington kept his hands clean, and went his way with a manly disregard of his +enemies.</p> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> +<h5>MONMOUTH.</h5> + +<p>The news of the French alliance, and consequent war between France and England, compelled the English to leave +Philadelphia. They had taken their ease there during the winter, while hardships and Steuben's drilling and Washington's +unflagging zeal had made the American army at Valley Forge strong and determined. A French fleet might at any time sail +up the Delaware, and with the American army in the rear, Philadelphia would be a hard place to hold. So General Howe +turned his command over to General Clinton, and went home to England, and General Clinton set about marching his army +across New Jersey to New York.</p> + +<p>The moment the troops left Philadelphia, armed men sprang up all over New Jersey to contest their passage, and +Washington set his army in motion, following close upon the heels of the enemy, who were making for Staten Island. There +was a question whether they should attack the British and bring on a general engagement, or only follow them and vex +them. The generals on whom Washington most relied, Greene, La Fayette, and Wayne, all good fighters, urged that it would +be a shame to let the enemy leave New Jersey without a severe punishment. The majority of generals in the council, +however, strongly opposed the plan of giving battle. They said that the French alliance would undoubtedly put an end to +the war at once. Why, then, risk life and success? The British army, moreover, was strong and well equipped.</p> + +<p>The most strenuous opponent of the fighting plan was General Charles Lee. When he was left in command of a body of +troops at the time of Washington's crossing the Hudson river more than a year before, his orders were to hold himself in +readiness to join Washington at any time. In his march across New Jersey, Washington had repeatedly sent for Lee, but +Lee had delayed in an unaccountable manner, and finally was himself surprised by a company of dragoons, and taken +captive. For a year he had been held a prisoner, and only lately had been released on exchange. He had returned to the +army while the cabal against Washington was going on, and had taken part in it, for he always felt that he ought to be +first and Washington second. He was second in command now, and his opinion had great weight. He was a trained soldier, +and besides, in his long captivity he had become well acquainted with General Clinton, and he professed to know well the +condition and temper of the British officers.</p> + +<p>Washington thus found himself unsupported by a majority of his officers. But he had no doubt in his own mind that the +policy of attack was a sound one. All had agreed that it was well to harass the enemy; he therefore ordered La Fayette +with a large division to fall upon the enemy at an exposed point. He thought it not unlikely that this would bring on a +general action, and he disposed his forces so as to be ready for such an emergency. He gave the command to La Fayette, +because Lee had disapproved the plan; but after La Fayette had set out, Lee came to Washington and declared that La +Fayette's division was so large as to make it almost an independent army, and that therefore he would like to change his +mind and take command. It never would do to have his junior in such authority.</p> + +<p>Here was a dilemma. Washington could not recall La Fayette. He wished to make use of Lee; so he gave Lee two +additional brigades, sent him forward to join La Fayette, when, as his senior, he would of course command the entire +force; and at the same time he notified La Fayette of what he had done, trusting to his sincere devotion to the cause in +such an emergency.</p> + +<p>When Clinton found that a large force was close upon him, he took up his position at Monmouth Court House, now +Freehold, New Jersey and prepared to meet the Americans. Washington knew Clinton's movements and sent word to Lee at +once to attack the British, unless there should be very + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_669" id="Page_669">[Pg 669]</a></span> + +powerful reasons to the contrary; adding that he himself was bringing up the rest of the army. Lee had joined La Fayette +and was now in command of the advance. La Fayette was eager to move upon the enemy.</p> + +<p>"You do not know British soldiers," said Lee; "we can not stand against them. We shall certainly be driven back at +first, and we must be cautious."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," said La Fayette. "But we have beaten British soldiers, and we can do it again."</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus690.jpg" width="600" height="402" alt="Washington Rebuking Lee, at Monmouth." title="" /> +<span class="caption">WASHINGTON REBUKING LEE, AT MONMOUTH.</span> +</div> + +<p>Soon after, one of Washington's aids appeared for intelligence, and La Fayette, in despair at Lee's inaction, sent +the messenger to urge Washington to come at once to the front; that he was needed. Washington was already on the way, +before the messenger reached him, when he was met by a little fifer boy, who cried out:</p> + +<p>"They are all coming this way, your honor."</p> + +<p>"Who are coming, my little man?" asked General Knox, who was riding by Washington.</p> + +<p>"Why, our boys, your honor, our boys, and the British right after them."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" exclaimed Washington, and he galloped to a hill just ahead. To his amazement and dismay, he saw his men +retreating. He lost not an instant, but, putting spurs to his horse, dashed forward. After him flew the officers who had +been riding by his side, but they could not overtake him. His horse, covered with foam, shot down the road over a bridge +and up the hill beyond. The retreating column saw him come. The men knew him; they stopped; they made way for the +splendid-looking man, as he, their leader, rode headlong into the midst of them. Lee was there, ordering the retreat, +and Washington drew his rein as he came upon him. A moment of terrible silence—then Washington burst out, his eyes +flashing:</p> + +<p>"What, sir, is the meaning of this?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, sir," stammered Lee.</p> + +<p>"I desire to know, sir, the meaning of this disorder and confusion?"</p> + +<p>Lee, enraged now by Washington's towering passion, made an angry reply. He declared that the whole affair was against +his opinion.</p> + +<p>"You are a poltroon!" flashed back Washington, with an oath. "Whatever your opinion may have been, I expected my +orders to be obeyed."</p> + +<p>"These men can not face the British grenadiers," answered Lee.</p> + +<p>"They can do it, and they shall!" exclaimed Washington, galloping off to survey the ground. Presently he came back; +his wrath had gone down + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_670" id="Page_670">[Pg 670]</a></span> + +in the presence of the peril to the army. He would waste no strength in cursing Lee.</p> + +<p>"Will you retain the command here, or shall I?" he asked. "If you will, I will return to the main body and have it +formed on the next height."</p> + +<p>"It is equal to me where I command," said Lee, sullenly.</p> + +<p>"Then remain here," said Washington. "I expect you to take proper means for checking the enemy."</p> + +<p>"Your orders shall be obeyed, and I shall not be the first to leave the ground," replied Lee, with spirit.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day the battle raged, and when night came the enemy had been obliged to fall back, and Washington +determined to follow up his success in the morning. He directed all the troops to lie on their arms where they were. He +himself lay stretched on the ground beneath a tree, his cloak wrapped about him. About midnight, an officer came near +with a message, but hesitated, reluctant to waken him.</p> + +<p>"Advance, sir, and deliver your message," Washington called out; "I lie here to think, and not to sleep."</p> + +<p>In the morning, Washington prepared to renew the attack, but the British had slipped away under cover of the +darkness, not willing to venture another battle.</p> + +<p>Pursuit, except by some cavalry, was unavailing. The men were exhausted. The sun beat down fiercely, and the hot sand +made walking difficult. Moreover, the British fleet lay off Sandy Hook, and an advance in that direction would lead the +army nearer to the enemy's re-enforcements. Accordingly Washington marched his army to Brunswick and thence to the +Hudson river, crossed it, and encamped again near White Plains.</p> + +<p>After the battle of Monmouth, Lee wrote an angry letter to Washington and received a cool one in reply. Lee demanded +a court-martial, and Washington at once ordered it. Three charges were made, and Lee was convicted of disobedience of +orders in not attacking the enemy on the 28th of June, agreeably to repeated instructions; misbehavior before the enemy +on the same day, by making an unnecessary and disorderly retreat; and disrespect to the Commander-in-chief. He was +suspended from the army for a year, and he never returned to it. Long after his death, facts were brought to light which +make it seem more than probable that General Lee was so eaten up by vanity, by jealousy of Washington, and by a love of +his profession above a love of his country, that he was a traitor at heart, and that instead of being ready to sacrifice +himself for his country, he was ready to sacrifice the country to his own willful ambition and pride.</p> + +<p>But his disgrace was the end of all opposition to Washington. From that time there was no question as to who was at +the head of the army and the people.</p> + +<p class="center">(<em>To be continued.</em>)</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus691.jpg" width="600" height="284" alt="Fresh from a Dip in the Breakers." title="" /> +<span class="caption">FRESH FROM A DIP IN THE BREAKERS.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_671" id="Page_671">[Pg 671]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A SONG OF SUMMER.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Emma C. Dowd.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The flowers are fringing the swift meadow brooks,</span> + <span class="ind1">The songsters are nesting in shadowy nooks;</span> + <span class="ind1">The birds and the blossoms are thronging to meet us,</span> + <span class="ind1">With loveliness, perfume, and music they greet us,—</span> + <span class="ind2">For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The bobolink tilts on the tall, nodding clover,</span> + <span class="ind1">And sings his gay song to us over and over;</span> + <span class="ind1">The wild roses beckon, with deepening blushes,</span> + <span class="ind1">And sweet, from the wood, sounds the warble of thrushes,—</span> + <span class="ind2">For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The white lilies sway with the breeze of the morning,</span> + <span class="ind1">In raiment more fair than a monarch's adorning;</span> + <span class="ind1">The bright-throated humming-bird, marvel of fleetness,</span> + <span class="ind1">Comes questing for honey-blooms, draining their sweetness,—</span> + <span class="ind2">For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">High up in the elm is the oriole courting,</span> + <span class="ind1">A new suit of velvet and gold he is sporting;</span> + <span class="ind1">With gay bits of caroling, tuneful and mellow,</span> + <span class="ind1">He wooes his fair lady-love, clad in plain yellow,—</span> + <span class="ind2">For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The blossoms and birds bring us, yearly, sweet token</span> + <span class="ind1">That Nature's glad promises never are broken.</span> + <span class="ind1">Then sing, happy birdlings, nor ever grow weary!</span> + <span class="ind1">Laugh on, merry children, 'tis time to be cheery!—</span> + <span class="ind2">For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!</span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LAST CRUISE OF "THE SLUG."</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Thomas Edwin Turner.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus693.jpg" width="300" height="297" alt="C" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CÆSAR AND THE PEACOCK. (<a href="#Page_672">SEE NEXT PAGE.</a>)</span> +</div> + +<p>lifford and Jack went down from Brooklyn last summer to spend a few weeks with Clifford's aunt, in the cozy old +homestead on the Shrewsbury River. Yachting was to be their chief enjoyment. To be sure, they were not practical +yachtsmen; but Jack said he "had read up the subject," and Cliff "had been out in a yacht once or twice," so they had no +fears.</p> + +<p>Clifford and Jack were second cousins, and great friends; but Jack had been in the habit of spending his summers at +Saratoga, and accordingly he looked forward to his present trip with the feeling of an adventurous explorer of unknown +regions. And in order to be prepared for every emergency, he brought an "outfit" that filled a strong trunk, two +valises, a shawl-strap, and a number of queerly-shaped packages.</p> + +<p>Clifford, who for several years had spent a part of each summer at his aunt's, carried a handbag. When Jack asked him +where the rest of his things were, Clifford, with a glance at his cousin's paraphernalia, answered that he preferred to +keep his "outfit" at his aunt's. He was not likely to need it elsewhere, and he saved expense for extra baggage.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_672" id="Page_672">[Pg 672]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Cæsar was Jack's chief reliance and most weighty responsibility. Cæsar was a dog;—according to +Jack, a setter-dog. And as Clifford was unable to state what was the dog's breed, if it were not a setter, Jack felt +that he had established his point. Moreover, when Cæsar, upon their arrival at Mud Flat, immediately celebrated +the occasion by slaughtering eight out of a brood of eleven Cochin China chicks that were great pets of their hostess, +Jack claimed that his pet's success as a game dog was assured beyond cavil. Jack was somewhat discouraged on learning +that the principal "game" in that vicinity was the sideling "shedder," or crab, and he acknowledged that in the pursuit +of such plunder he feared even Cæsar was not ambitious. But nothing ever discouraged Cæsar, and he had more +fun with Miss Goodmaid's favorite peacock than all the game in New Jersey would have afforded him; as subsequent events +developed the fact that he was mortally afraid of a gun. This is not strange, considering that he had spent the previous +eight months of his short life in a stable on Henry street, in Brooklyn. Indeed, his principal amusement during the rest +of the boys' visit, was to chase the gorgeous bird of Juno into the branches of a pear-tree, and stand below and +bark.</p> + +<p>Though this was severe on the nervous organism of the peacock, it seemed to afford unlimited satisfaction to +Cæsar, and it kept him out of so much other possible mischief, that he was rarely interfered with on these +occasions.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus694.jpg" width="400" height="367" alt="Jack Exhibits His 'Outfit.'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">JACK EXHIBITS HIS "OUTFIT."</span> +</div> + +<p>As soon as Jack could have his luggage taken to the house and put in the room the boys were to occupy, he hastened to +unpack his outfit before the wondering eyes of Clifford. A handsome double-barreled shot-gun, Clifford suggested, might +be used in trying to kill his aunt's three remaining chickens; a delicate split-bamboo fishing-rod might come in well +for catching live bait, if they were not in a hurry; and an extensive collection of artificial flies would perhaps serve +to frighten away the mosquitoes. A large horse-pistol Cliff thought would be "just the thing for picking off bull-frogs +in the marshes"; but he was forced to tell his cousin that he feared his shooting-coat, his fine yachting suit, his +knickerbockers for mountain + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_673" id="Page_673">[Pg 673]</a></span> + +climbing, and his tennis flannels, would scarcely be needed in that vicinity.</p> + +<p>Poor Jack looked ruefully at his expensive "outfit," which Clifford seemed to prize so little, and then he asked his +cousin to tell him what specialties of costume and accouterments were best fitted to the Shrewsbury region. Without +answering in words, Clifford simply pointed to a closet, through the open door of which could be seen, hanging from +hooks, a broad-brimmed straw hat, a blue flannel shirt, a stout pair of trousers, and a lanyard. A large jack-knife lay +upon the shelf, and a substantial pair of high shoes stood firmly on the floor.</p> + +<p>Little more was said concerning the subject that evening, but Jack went to bed in a very sober frame of mind. In the +morning, he put all his fancy toggery back into his trunk, selecting only such useful garments as Clifford suggested, +and took an early opportunity of purchasing a hat which was an exact counterpart of the one worn by his cousin.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was dangerous to mention the word "outfit" in Jack's hearing for a long time.</p> + +<p>Clifford's aunt, Miss Goodmaid, was asked to tell them where they could hire a sail-boat for their proposed trip; she +had heard that Johnny Peltsman, the carriage-maker's son, in Mud Flat, had such a boat, and to him the boys went to +"negotiate."</p> + +<p>Johnny Peltsman <em>did</em> have a boat, which he said he would let, if he "could get his price." The Slug, he +admitted, looked a trifle heavy, and, while under "proper conditions" she would go fast, Johnny confessed that she +couldn't sail very close to the wind. Upon payment of five dollars, he said, the boys might have the boat for two +weeks.</p> + +<p>"Done!" cried Jack, eagerly. "I dare say she will suit us perfectly. Some people may like boats that sail close to +the wind. But a boat to suit me must be able to slide away from the wind, and not stay crawling around close to it!"</p> + +<p>Clifford's face was a study as his partner thus aired his nautical opinions, while Johnny Peltsman greeted the remark +with open-mouthed astonishment; and when Jack concluded his observations, Johnny said earnestly:</p> + +<p>"By the way, young friend, it is understood, of course, that if you sink or wreck the Slug, you must pay +damages."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if we lose the yacht, you shall be paid for it," Jack answered, feeling rather indignant at the +suggestion.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus695.jpg" width="400" height="399" alt="The Boys Engage the 'Slug.'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BOYS ENGAGE THE "SLUG."</span> +</div> + +<p>Being directed to the place where the Slug lay, the boys hastened away to take immediate possession. Johnny stood +looking after them until they were out of sight. Then turning to enter his shop, he soliloquized:</p> + +<p>"Well, that beats all! The idea of hiring a boat without seeing it, and not caring to have it to sail close to the +wind! I suppose, of course, those chaps can swim." And with an ominous shake of the head, Johnny resumed his +carriage-making.</p> + +<p>Our heroes found their prize lying in a little cove just above the bridge. The Slug was a flat-bottomed center-board +boat, fifteen feet long, five feet across the stern, and narrowing gradually to a point at the bows. A more clumsy +sail-boat was never seen. But Jack only noticed the two large lockers, and with unbounded satisfaction, remarked to his +cousin:</p> + +<p>"We can stow away a big stock of provisions in those boxes, Cliff."</p> + +<p>It was Friday, so the two boys decided to give the "yacht" a short trial-trip down to the Highlands and back. In that +way they would become familiar with the boat, and on Monday morning would be ready to start on a week's cruise. It +chanced that a flood-tide was just beginning when the lads shoved + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_674" id="Page_674">[Pg 674]</a></span> + +the Slug well out into the river, while the wind was blowing a brisk gale straight down-stream, the very direction in +which the boys wished to go. Clifford was enough of a sailor to step the little mast and properly set the leg-of-mutton +sail for a breeze directly astern. With a strong wind behind her, and only a weak tide opposing, it was not surprising +that the Slug made a progress quite satisfactory to the two amateur yachtsmen. As the tide increased in force, however, +the boat went slower and slower, and it was six o'clock when the Highlands "hove in sight," as Jack said—having +learned that and other nautical terms from his story-books. On finding how late it was, Clifford remarked:</p> + +<p>"We'd better be making for home."</p> + +<p>The boys managed to put the Slug about, and very soon Jack ascertained that there were times when it was an advantage +to have a boat able to sail close to the wind; for, as the breeze still blew down-stream, Clifford found it simply +impossible to beat up the river in the Slug. The truth was, the only "proper conditions" under which Johnny Peltsman's +boat would sail at all were those of going straight before the wind!</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus696.jpg" width="600" height="331" alt="'''How Can You Sleep?' Asked Clifford.''" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'HOW CAN YOU SLEEP?' ASKED CLIFFORD."</span> +</div> + +<p>Clifford told Jack that they must "row the old tub back to Mud Flat," and both boys pluckily bent to the work. It was +hard work, too. The oars were long and heavy, the boat was as unwieldy as a raft of logs, and at length Jack +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, Cliff, that the scenery along this river is very monotonous. We passed just such banks and houses as +those over there, ten minutes ago."</p> + +<p>Clifford threw a hurried glance shoreward, looked down at the water, and immediately pulled his oar into the boat, +saying:</p> + +<p>"The fates are against us, Jack. In spite of our pulling and tugging, we are actually drifting down-stream. The tide +has turned; it's dead against us, and so is the wind. It would take a Cunarder to tow this miserable scow back to Mud +Flat, now."</p> + +<p>"What's to be done?" asked Jack, suddenly realizing that they might be swept out into the bay, where the whitecaps +gave evidence that a very high sea would be encountered.</p> + +<p>"Neither of us can swim very far," said Clifford. "Our only chance is to land on that little island, yonder. Luckily +we're drifting straight toward it."</p> + +<p>Favored by the current, the boat was carried close to the sand-bar of the island, and by a vigorous use of the oars +they were able to bring their craft safely to land.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to stay here until slack water," said Clifford, "and then perhaps we can row across to the shore. The +next slack will be about midnight, so we'd better camp here and take advantage of to-morrow morning's slack. Then we can +cross to the Highlands Landing, a short distance below here, and go back by steamboat. The Seabird will tow the Slug +home for us."</p> + +<p>"All right; I'll stand by you," laconically answered Jack.</p> + +<p>They at once set about gathering grass and sea-weed with which to make a bed, intending to use the Slug's sail for a +covering. After a couch had been arranged to their satisfaction, the two + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_675" id="Page_675">[Pg 675]</a></span> + +friends strolled around their domain, which they found to be a little larger than a city lot. During their walk, the +boys caught four or five soft-shell crabs, which the epicurean Jack prudently stowed away in one of the lockers.</p> + +<p>The mosquitoes had troubled the lads greatly from the moment they landed on the sand-island; and, as they had no +matches and could not make a "smudge," they soon decided to "turn in" as Jack technically stated. But then the vicious +insects attacked their victims in clouds, until the boys were forced to cover their heads and hands completely with the +sail; and in that uncomfortable condition they finally fell asleep.</p> + +<p>It seemed but a short time to Clifford before he became conscious of a stinging, smarting sensation on his face that +was almost unbearable, and he awoke to find that he was literally covered with swarms of the poisonous little pests, +while Jack, snugly rolled up in the sailcloth of which he had taken complete possession in his sleep, snored loudly.</p> + +<p>Slapping, brushing, and shaking off his tormentors, Clifford punched his companion and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"How can you sleep through this?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <em>I'm</em> all right," answered Jack, in smothered tones.</p> + +<p>"Well, <em>I'm</em> not!" growled Clifford, as he sprang to his feet and proceeded to spend the few hours until +daybreak in battle with his small but ferocious enemies.</p> + +<p>At sunrise, the castaways refreshed themselves with a prolonged bath; and then, hungry as bears, they impatiently +waited for slack water, when they sprang into the Slug, and by long and hard work, at last reached the mainland not far +above the Highlands.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus697.jpg" width="600" height="435" alt="''The Two Hungry Lads Were Soon Dispatching Their Breakfast.''" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE TWO HUNGRY LADS WERE SOON DISPATCHING THEIR BREAKFAST."</span> +</div> + +<p>An investigation of their finances showed the boys that they had, together, exactly sixty-five cents. With that sum, +therefore, they had to provide a breakfast, pay steamboat fares home, and meet unknown incidental expenses. A little +shop was soon found where coffee, butter, and a roll would be furnished to each boy for thirty cents. Their fares home +would amount to twenty cents; and the boys decided to take the chance that fifteen cents would prove adequate to the +unforeseen. Remembering the soft-shell crabs in the locker, Clifford induced the good-natured landlady to cook them +"without extra charge;" and soon the two hungry lads were dispatching their thirty-cent breakfast, which included fried +potatoes, also "donated" by the kind-hearted hostess.</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock on that eventful Saturday morning, the young navigators re-embarked and dropped down with the tide to +the steamboat landing at the Highlands.</p> + +<p>The boys soon saw the Seabird plowing her way to the landing. When she had landed, the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_676" id="Page_676">[Pg 676]</a></span> + +Slug was quickly made fast to the stern of the larger boat, and ere long the steamer was bearing them homeward.</p> + +<p>Seated well forward on the upper deck, the boys were congratulating themselves on being at last free from all +anxiety, when suddenly they were startled by loud cries from the stern of the steamboat:</p> + +<p>"Hi! Hi! You lads who own the little boat astern! Hurry! quick! quick! She's sinking! she's sinking!"</p> + +<p>Running to the spot whence came those warning shouts; Clifford and Jack looked down at the Slug and saw that the +small center-board had been thrown entirely out of its trunk by the force of the water which had been churned to a white +foam under the huge paddle-wheels of the Seabird,—and a broad stream pouring through this opening into their +"yacht" threatened each moment to swamp it.</p> + +<p>"Bother that yacht! She's going to haunt us all our lives!" cried Jack, in dismay; but Clifford, taking in the state +of affairs at a glance, ran to the lower deck, and with one stroke of his pocket-knife cut the Slug's painter, and then +the two boys silently and sadly watched their boat drop far behind in the fan-shaped wake of the larger vessel.</p> + +<p>"She may be picked up by some one alongshore, but, more likely, she'll go to the bottom," thoughtfully remarked +Clifford.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it," said Jack; "that yacht will never sink! She will be turning up against us all through life, +bringing trouble and disgrace."</p> + +<p>In due time, the boys arrived at the Goodmaid homestead, where they received a warm welcome from Clifford's aunt, who +had almost begun to fear that her young guests were at the bottom of the Shrewsbury.</p> + +<p>On Monday morning, bright and early, the two boys started down the left bank of the river to find their boat. They +found it after an hour's walk. It had been hauled out upon the beach. The Slug had been sighted and recovered by a +farmer living alongshore. After paying two dollars as salvage, Jack asked the farmer concerning the best way of getting +the boat home.</p> + +<p>"There are three ways," answered the man, thoughtfully. "The first is to wait till there's a hurricane blowing +straight up the river, when perhaps you can sail up. The second is to hire me to row her up. And the third is to let me +put the boat on my lumber wagon, and haul it up to Mud Flat."</p> + +<p>"Of the three, which would be best?" persisted Jack.</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the farmer, "you may have to wait weeks for the hurricane; I will haul the boat for two dollars; and +I will undertake to row it up the river—(though, understand, I don't say how long I shall be about it)—but +row her up I will, somehow, and charge you only two hundred and fifty dollars for the job. And that's very cheap, I can +tell you, for I know that boat!"</p> + +<p>It is hardly necessary to say that the boys decided that the Slug should go home on wheels, provided they might ride, +too, without increase of pay. By the use of rollers, an inclined plane and levers, the boat was safely hoisted upon the +wagon. The farmer occupied the bow, and Jack and Cliff each sat on a thwart.</p> + +<p>And now, for the first time in her history, the Slug was under complete control. The whip cracked, the horses +strained at their collars, the wheels rolled, and away went Jack's "yacht," trundling homeward. The road led past the +Goodmaid farm, and over the long bridge crossing the Shrewsbury. As they neared the farm, the boys raised a shout, and +Cæsar, Jack's mongrel and mischievous dog, leaving the peacock for a moment, came bounding out to meet them.</p> + +<p>True to his nature, he at once began a series of noisy gambols about the farmer's young and high-spirited horses. But +soon wearying of that harmless jumping at the wagon, the dog suddenly ran under the forward wheels, and sprang at the +long fetlocks of the "near" horse.</p> + +<p>Like a flash, the team made a wild plunge, and dashed down the road. The wagon was jerked from beneath the Slug, and +the boat and its passengers fell heavily to the ground. The anchor, dropping between the wagon-box and a wheel, became +firmly fixed; while the line to which the anchor was attached, being good manilla rope, was uncoiled and dragged after +the horses with great rapidity.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, the boys and the driver had time to jump out of the "yacht" before the anchor-rope was all "paid out," +and so, with the exception of a bad shaking-up and a few bruises, they suffered no injury from their unceremonious +disembarking. But the sudden fall had "broken the backbone" of the Slug, as Jack expressed it; and, as if that were not +enough, the poor boat, as it hung by the painter, was swung, bumped, knocked, and dragged along, until it was literally +reduced to fragments. There was scarcely a residence in all Mud Flat that did not have, long afterward, some +satisfactory reminder of the last cruise of the Slug.</p> + +<p>But all agreed that the old boat had one virtue—it made famous firewood!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_677" id="Page_677">[Pg 677]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus700.jpg" width="600" height="419" alt="The Great Spring-Board Act.—By the Entire Company." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE GREAT SPRING-BOARD ACT.—BY THE ENTIRE COMPANY.</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<h2>WONDERS OF THE ALPHABET.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Henry Eckford.</span></h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Fifth Paper.</span></h4> + +<p>In tracing back our letters, we now have reached Chalkis, where the Phœnicians under Kadmus taught the Greeks +their letters. A funny thing occurred to the wise men who ferreted out all these facts. They could read Greek, and they +could read Hebrew, and the strange likeness between many of the names for the letters in the two languages made it +certain that in some way they were related or connected. But what meant those letters on rocks, metal vases, and +earthenware jars that we now call Phœnician? Single letters looked like Greek letters distorted; but the words +would not read as Greek. Nor would they read as Hebrew, although the characters appeared to have some connection with +Hebrew. Greek is written like our writing, from left to right; but Hebrew, Arabic, and Persian are written from right to +left. So, in those languages a book begins where our books end. It was found, too, that the Hebrew writing now in use is +very different externally from that used by David and Solomon, although the names and general shape of the letters are +the same. Have you ever seen a Hebrew Bible? The alphabet in which the Old Testament was originally written looked very +different from that which the Jews now use in their Bibles; it was much nearer the Phœnician in appearance.</p> + +<p>For a long time it never dawned on men's minds that perhaps the Phœnician way of writing, from right to left, +was not followed by the Greeks; but at last they remembered that in very early times the lines of Greek writing were +made to read alternately from right to left and from left to right. Such inscriptions were called +<em>boustrephédon</em> ("turning like oxen in plowing"), because the letters had to be read as the oxen move from +furrow to furrow in the field that they plow, first one way, then the other. That gave the needed clew.</p> + +<p>After all, if we do not connect letters one to the other, as in running handwriting, does it make much difference +whether we set the separate letters down in a sequence which begins at the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_678" id="Page_678">[Pg 678]</a></span> + +right and ends at the left, or in one that begins at the left and ends at the right? Some nations, like the Chinese and +Tartars, find it convenient to write signs <em>under</em> each other. The Egyptians used to write in at least three +several directions, namely, downwards, from right to left, and from left to right. Generally one can tell how to read +hieroglyphs in Egyptian and Mexican manuscripts by noting the direction of the faces of animals and persons pictured, +and then reading in the opposite direction. Sometimes Egyptian hieroglyphs were engraved one upon the other, like a +monogram.</p> + +<p>Well, putting some or all of these facts together, it suddenly flashed on some one that the oldest Greek letters +might be nothing more or less than the Phœnician letters turned the other way. And when they came to examine the +very oldest Greek inscriptions to be found, they discovered that this was the main difference between the two! The +Greeks had borrowed the Phœnician letters and merely added some new characters to express sounds peculiar to their +own tongue and neglected others that were of no service.</p> + +<p>It was this alphabet that the Greek-Phœnicians brought to Italy. When, centuries later, Latins and Sabines and +Etruscans and Oscans, banded together and formed the great city of Rome, it was this alphabet they inherited from their +forefathers. Several of the letters which the Etruscans thought necessary to express sounds in their language, were +dropped before the Romans came to power and produced their great poets and essayists.</p> + +<p>So, now you know how the alphabet came to you, which the Irish monks taught our heathen forefathers. It came through +the Latins from the people of Bœotia, or Greeks, who learned it from the Phœnicians.</p> + +<p>But that great mercantile people, the Phœnicians, also left to the nations near their old home in Palestine, +the same precious gift of an alphabet. Very old inscriptions in Hebrew, lately found, are seen to be written in almost +the same alphabet as the Phœnician. Perhaps you are beginning to wonder how many peoples there are who owe their +letters to that old sea-folk who were the traders, pirates, and buccaneers of the Mediterranean! There is the Hebrew, +which people have called the alphabet of God, because the Holy Scriptures were written in it, and which was also used by +magicians for their amulets and talismans; there is the Greek, in which the epics of Homer, the long poems of Hesiod, +and the rhapsodies of Pindar were taken down; there is the Latin, in which all the wisdom of the ancients reached us; +and there are all the differing alphabets, printed characters, and script handwritings of Europe and America! In fact, I +could not tell you here, so numerous are they, the names of all the languages in Asia, Africa, Europe, and America, that +were and are written in some alphabet, which traces its descent from the twenty-two Phœnician letters.</p> + +<p>The connection between Greek and Phœnician is much easier to believe than that Arabic, a sentence of which you +see here represented, should be also a writing derived from the Phœnician. Arabic letters are used by so large a +portion of the inhabitants of the earth that it stands second among the great national, or rather, the great religious +alphabets of the world. Some of you know, I suppose, that Mohammed was a very wise and imaginative Arab of an important +though poor tribe of Arabia Felix. He was a great poet and statesman; he had visions and called himself the Prophet of +God. He wrote the Koran, which is used by an immense multitude of men as their only law-book and Bible. The dialect +which he and his clan used became, through the spread of his doctrines, the standard, first for all Arabia, and then for +all the enormous countries a hundred times larger than Arabia which his disciples and their followers won by force of +arms.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illus703.png" width="800" height="105" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">This Arabic sentence is a famous inscription upon the colonnade of one of the great mosques at Jerusalem. The mosque is known as the "Dome of the Rock," and it is thought to stand upon a portion of the site of the +great Jewish Temple. This inscription is placed near the great southern door of the mosque. It is in one continuous +line, however, instead of two as represented in this fac-simile. It reads from right to left, and is thus translated: +"This dome was built by the servant of God, Abd [allah-el-Imam-al-Mamûn, E] mir of the Faithful, in the year +seventy-two. May God be well pleased, and be satisfied with him. Amen."</span> +</div> + +<p>Of course the alphabet he used did not spring up suddenly. It was handed down from the early times of the +Phœnicians, and gradually became so changed in most of the letters that you would hardly believe they had ever +been the same as the Phœnician letters. Writers of it + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_679" id="Page_679">[Pg 679]</a></span> + +were so careless, or so proud of being able to read and write when the mass of their neighbors were ignorant, that, +neglectfully or intentionally, they allowed many letters to become almost like one another. In the Arabic, Turkish, and +Persian languages, it is hard to tell a number of the letters apart. In order to distinguish them, later writers devised +a set of dots, like the dot over our small i. The same difficulty occurred among the Hebrews, whose wise men seemed to +enjoy making writing hard to write and to read. Another reason why Arabic is hard to make out is because many of the +letters change their forms according as they stand alone (unconnected), or stand at the beginning of a word (initial), +or in between two other letters (connected) or at the end of a word (final). Think of having to distinguish the same +letter under four different forms! What a bother to the children of the Arabs, Turks, and Persians as they sit +tailor-fashion, or kneel patiently on the floor, their shoes left outside the threshold, while the school-master +flourishes his rod over their puzzled noddles, or raps the soles of their tired little feet!</p> + +<p>Now Arabic letters and Hebrew, too, if you try to trace them back to Phœnician, are found to have passed +through the hands of a people who occupied the high lands of Asia Minor, where the two great "rivers of Babylon," the +Euphrates and the Tigris, begin to run their course. This land was called Aram and the ancient language spoken there, +the Aramaic. Between Phœnician and Aramaic the connection is close. The Aramaic took the place of the +Phœnician language, when the Phœnicians were edged out of Palestine westward over the Mediterranean. So we +see that Arabic, which looks so strange and is so elegant and fantastic when embroidered on banners or traced on tiles +or written on the beautiful mulberry-leaf paper of the Orient, really uses, in the main, the same alphabet that looks so +plain and simple on the page you are reading!</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illus704a.png" width="800" height="81" alt="Persian Sentence." title="" /> +<span class="caption">PERSIAN SENTENCE.</span> +</div> + +<p>Both Phœnician and Aramaic were in all probability spoken and written in Palestine and Aram. It was in Aramaic, +too, that the words of Christ and his apostles were spoken; and a few of the actual words are still retained in the New +Testament, for example "Talitha cumi," meaning "Maid, arise!" It was probably Aramaic that prevailed also in the great +capitals of Mesopotamia, while the rich and haughty kings of Babylonia and Assyria were using on their stone and plaster +images and in their queer books of inscribed and baked brick, the writing that is called "cuneiform." It is so called +because the letters appear to to be formed of little <em>cunei</em>, wedges, or nails. "Arrow-headed writing" is another +name for it. Look well at this curious writing made by engraving on brick. Several different languages have been written +in it.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus704b.png" width="600" height="383" alt="Specimen of Cuneiform Writing." title="" /> +<span class="caption">SPECIMEN OF CUNEIFORM WRITING.</span> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Lilian Dynevor Rice.</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">I</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Six sturdy lads lay curled up in their beds</span> + <span class="ind1">When the Birthday of Freedom had faded to night,</span> + <span class="ind1">With burns on their fingers and pains in their heads,</span> + <span class="ind1">And scarred like the heroes of many a fight.</span> + <span class="ind1">But, strange to relate, as all sleepless they lay,</span> + <span class="ind1">Though ten from the steeple had chimed loud and clear,</span> + <span class="ind1">They sighed: "What a perfectly glorious day!</span> + <span class="ind1">Too bad it can only come once in the year!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">II</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The six patient mothers, who loved the six boys,</span> + <span class="ind1">Were resting at last, now the daylight was done;</span> + <span class="ind1">For, with the wild racket and riot and noise,</span> + <span class="ind1">No peace had been theirs since the dawn of the sun.</span> + <span class="ind1">And they sighed, as they said in the weariest way</span> + <span class="ind1">(And full cause had they for their feelings, I fear):</span> + <span class="ind1">"This has been <em>such</em> a terrible, ear-splitting day!</span> + <span class="ind1">How lucky it only comes once in the year!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_680" id="Page_680">[Pg 680]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 561px;"> +<img src="images/illus706.jpg" width="561" height="800" alt="The Leopard Brought to Bay by Wild Dogs." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE LEOPARD BROUGHT TO BAY BY WILD DOGS.</span> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_681" id="Page_681">[Pg 681]</a></span></p> + +<h2>WILD HUNTERS.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By John R. Coryell.</span></h3> + +<p>Everybody knows the old story of the father who taught his sons to be united by showing them a bundle of sticks. +Taken together, the sticks could not be broken; but taken singly, they were snapped in two very quickly.</p> + +<p>The wild dogs of South Africa, like the bundle of sticks, furnish an example of the value of unity. A single wild dog +is not very formidable, but a pack of wild dogs is the dread of every living creature in the part of Africa where they +dwell; and more persevering, savage, and relentless hunters do not exist.</p> + +<p>The wild dog has keen scent, quick intelligence, great powers of endurance, and great speed; so that, however swift +may be the animal pursued, it has cause to fear this tireless hunter. Indeed, the wild dog never seems to take into +consideration the size, strength, or agility of its game. Even the lion, it is said, has learned to dread those small +hunters, which seem to have no fear of death, but rush with fierce courage to attack the mighty monarch himself, should +he be so unlucky as to become the object of their pursuit.</p> + +<p>One traveler tells of having witnessed the pursuit and destruction of a large leopard by a pack of wild dogs. Whether +or not the dogs had set out with the intention of capturing the leopard, he could not tell. He saw them start up the +great cat in a low jungle. The leopard made no effort at first to fight off its assailants; but, with a series of +prodigious springs, sought shelter in the only refuge the plain afforded—a tree which had partially fallen.</p> + +<p>There the hunted beast stood, snarling and growling in a manner that would have frightened off any ordinary foe. The +savage dogs, however, never hesitated a moment, but with agile leaps ran up the sloping trunk, and gave instant battle +to their furious game. One after another, the dogs were hurled back, each stroke of the terrible paw making one foe the +less. Yet they continued to throw themselves against the enraged creature, until, wearied by the contest and wounded in +fifty places, it fell from the tree; when, still struggling, it was quickly torn to pieces.</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed, however, that the wild dog usually prefers as formidable game as the leopard. A sheep-fold +is always an attraction too great for the wild dog to pass.</p> + +<p>And now, after calling this wild hunter a dog, I shall have to say that it is not a dog at all, but is only a sort of +cousin to the dog, and really a nearer relative of the hyena, though it so resembles both animals as to have gained the +name of hyena-dog. Its scientific name is <em>Lycaon venaticus</em>; and besides the two common names already mentioned, +it has half a dozen more.</p> + +<p>Being neither dog nor hyena, and yet akin to both, it is one of those strange forms of the animal creation which +naturalists call "links." It has four toes, like the hyena, while it has teeth like the dog's.</p> + +<p>Some attempts have been made to tame it, so as to gain the use of its wonderful powers of hunting; but none of these +efforts have yet been successful, because of the suspicious nature of the animal. It seems to feel that every offer of +kindness or familiarity is a menace to its liberty.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE THEORETIC TURTLE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By A. R. W.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/illus708.jpg" width="100" height="97" alt="T" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind4">he theoretic turtle started out to see the toad;</span> + <span class="ind4">He came to a stop at a liberty-pole in the middle of the road.</span> + <span class="ind4">"Now how, in the name of the spouting whale," the indignant turtle cried,</span> + <span class="ind4">"Can I climb this perpendicular cliff, and get on the other side?</span> + <span class="ind4">If I only could make a big balloon, I'd lightly over it fly;</span> + <span class="ind4">Or a very long ladder might reach the top, though it does look fearfully high.</span> + <span class="ind4">If a beaver were in my place, he'd gnaw a passage through with his teeth;</span> + <span class="ind4">I can't do that, but I can dig a tunnel and pass beneath."</span> + <span class="ind4">He was digging his tunnel, with might and main, when a dog looked down at the hole.</span> + <span class="ind4">"The easiest way, my friend," said he, "is to walk around the pole."</span> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_682" id="Page_682">[Pg 682]</a></span></p> + +<h2>NAN'S REVOLT.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Rose Lattimore Alling.</span></h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter I.</span></h4> + +<p>There was a gentlemanly raising of hats and a womanly fluttering of skirts at the Ferrises' door. The hats were borne +down the dark avenue, and could be seen, occasionally, swinging briskly along under the light of successive lampposts. +They were very stylish hats.</p> + +<p>The skirts made a soft scurrying sound as they rustled upstairs, and along the dim hall, disappearing into the rooms +of their owners. They were very dainty skirts.</p> + +<p>Nan closed her door, turned up the gas, stood a moment pouting at herself in the glass, pulled the wilted roses from +her belt with an impatient jerk, tossed her pretty evening dress across a chair, exchanged her boots for a pair of +slippers, and stole noiselessly into Evelyn's room to talk over the party with that dear sister and Cathy, who was +staying with them, as a guest.</p> + +<p>She found those two persons waiting for her, while they straightened out the fingers of their long gloves.</p> + +<p>"Well, girls," began Nan, seating herself lazily upon the middle of the bed, "there is just one solitary comfort left +after an utterly stupid evening like this: you can express your feelings to your dearest friends, and here I am to +express!"</p> + +<p>"Go on, then," sighed her sister, ruefully examining a stain on her fan; "but don't speak too loud or you will waken +the household."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't be afraid, Evelyn; I'm not in one of my fire-cracker moods. No, I'm cool; I have the calmness of +stern resolve; I speak from that tranquil height which lies beyond emotion!" declaimed Nan, pulling out the hairpins +from her artistic coils.</p> + +<p>"What notion have you in your busy head now? Hasten to divulge, for it is very late," suggested Cathy.</p> + +<p>"Late! who cares? I shall save years of sleep by wasting this midnight's gas!" and Nan showed a gleam of fire in her +eye as she gave the pillow a vindictive thump.</p> + +<p>"Well," yawned Cathy, "proceed at once"; and forthwith the audience curled itself up on the lounge, regarding the +speaker with expectant amusement, while she, after finishing off an intricate pattern in hairpins, thus began:</p> + +<p>"Ahem—ladies—the subject of society in general and parties in particular, ladies and gentlemen," waving +her hand toward sundry photographs standing about on Evelyn's writing-desk, "has been under consideration for some time. +<em>Ergo</em>, <em>I</em> don't go to another one! So there! That's settled. From this time forth I shall proceed to +enjoy life in a rational way."</p> + +<p>With this conclusion to her rapid speech, she scattered her design over the bedspread with one destructive finger, +and flashed upon her hearers two bright, snapping eyes, showing that she was in earnest, despite her nonsense.</p> + +<p>Cathy gasped, while Evelyn exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Why, Nan, what happened? Didn't you have a gay time?"</p> + +<p>This remark set Nan off, like a match to powder.</p> + +<p>"<em>Gay?</em> Oh, bewilderingly, intensely gay! Yes, it was just that—'gay,' and nothing more. The party was +all right, indeed better than most, from a high moral point of view, for my hair staid in curl and my gloves didn't +burst; I danced with the most stylish goose in the room; I ate an ice with conceited Tom Lefferts in the conservatory; I +opened and shut my fan and smiled and raised my eyebrows the requisite number of times to produce the effect of having a +delightful time! Oh—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + <p>'I would not pass another such an eve, Though 't were to buy a world of happy days.'"</p> +</div> + +<p>This vivid speech was uttered in irony so cold that it would have been quite thrilling if Nan hadn't given the pillow +another vehement poke in the middle, which made its four corners swell up in stiff remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" exclaimed Cathy, with a laugh, "what in the world are you going to do about it, Nan? There is a full +supply of nonsense in the world, I admit, but we can't reform the feature of the time, and we must have some +fun——"</p> + +<p>"<em>Fun!</em>" interrupted Nan hotly. "Who is objecting to fun? Who loves fun better than I? But who has fun at these +shows? Did you have a really happy time to-night, Cathy? Own up now. You know that, when the flutter is over, you can't +remember one single thing worth remembering. Does it pay?"</p> + +<p>"But we can't help it. What are you going to do—turn blue-stocking or prig, Nannie, love?" mildly inquired +Evelyn.</p> + +<p>"'Prig'—'blue-stocking'—no, I hate the very words," said Nan, adding, "I'm seeking just what you are; the +only difference is, <em>I'm</em> going to get it and you are not. But go on, sweet children, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_683" id="Page_683">[Pg 683]</a></span> + +go on giving your hair extra frizzlings, go on smiling divinely at vapid nothings, and eating numberless plates of +cream—it is a noble future to contemplate! But let me tell you, deluded creatures, that you will drag home just so +many times neither benefited nor amused, and the last state of all such will be worse than the first. Let us weep!"</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus712.jpg" width="400" height="426" alt="The Girls Discuss the Party." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE GIRLS DISCUSS THE PARTY.</span> +</div> + +<p>And now the poor pillow went flying off upon the floor, while Nan laughed at her own peroration.</p> + +<p>Her spell-bound hearers gave two gigantic sighs, while Cathy seized a cologne-bottle to restore Evelyn, who reclined +tragically upon the lounge, feigning to be completely overcome.</p> + +<p>After they had succeeded in controlling their emotions, Cathy said in a wailing voice:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Nan, I have a realizing sense that you are more than half right; for I do believe that, when, after such an +evening, I survey my giddy self in the glass, I sigh more often than I smile."</p> + +<p>Nan, who was venting her yet unspent spite in braiding her hair into tight little curls, gave her head an emphatic +nod and declared her fell intention of finding + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_684" id="Page_684">[Pg 684]</a></span> + +some way out of her slough of despond. Then as the last braid dwindled to three hairs, she descended from the platform, +and thus concluded:</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen, thanking you for your kind attention, I beg leave to announce that there will be another +solemn conclave in regard to this vital subject, on the side veranda, to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. Good-night, you +dear old things, you are nearly asleep, and I've wearied you more than did that wretched party. Why, no! Cathy's eyes +are wide open! Mercy on us, Cathy thinks she's thinking! Go on, dear, it wont harm you at all."</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus713.jpg" width="600" height="403" alt="''Nan Lay in the Hammock Thinking.''" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"NAN LAY IN THE HAMMOCK THINKING."</span> +</div> + +<p>With this parting fling, she hopped to the door, holding in her hand one slipper, which she waved tragically, +exclaiming, "Farewell, base world!" and was gone.</p> + +<p>"What a girl she is!" said Evelyn, as the audience unbent itself. "She didn't give me a chance to agree with or to +combat her theories; but, do you know, I am tired of it, too, just as much as Nan is, only she has vigor enough to rebel +at the thraldom of her bright, natural self, while I keep on and on from mere inertia."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Cathy, slowly winding her watch, "I <em>was</em> thinking, as Nan said—but it is one o'clock, and +I shall not say another word until to-morrow."</p> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter II.</span></h4> + +<p>The bell in St. Luke's steeple rang out the stroke for three-quarters after nine in the morning. Nan lay in the +hammock, gazing up through the woodbine of the before-mentioned side veranda. The leaves were beginning to turn maroon +and russet; but evidently she was not looking at these, for her pretty eyes were taking in a wider angle of light. In +truth, there was a deep little wrinkle between her eyebrows, which implied deep thought.</p> + +<p>However, as the bell began on its ten strokes, she withdrew her stare from the far, unseen horizon, rolled out of the +hammock, came down hard on her two trim boots, stood up straight, and gazed the landscape o'er.</p> + +<p>"Not a girl in sight," she said to herself, with an amused laugh; "I believe the silly things are afraid of me; maybe +they think I have become one of those reformers—oh me, how shy girls are of a <em>cause</em>! Well, anyhow, I have +one, or rather a <em>be</em>cause, and they must give me a fair hearing, though I must be wiser than a whole collection +of serpents." She had reflected thus far, when she espied a blue eye peeping around the corner of the bay-window.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cathy!" she shouted; "oh, you perfidious foe! Come here! Where are the girls?"</p> + +<p>Cathy brought the companion eye into view, and finally two other pairs appeared, accompanied by their respective +owners, Evelyn carrying + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_685" id="Page_685">[Pg 685]</a></span> + +a basket of grapes. How merry they were, and how they laughed in that contagious girl-fashion as they encamped about +Nan! They made a group charming to behold, and they seemed capable of tossing anybody's blues away as easily as they now +threw grape-skins into the sunny air. But they were not remarkable in any respect; they had their full share of graces +and defects, of assorted sizes, both of feature and character. No one of them was in the least a heroine; but the group +was very like any other group that might have been found in many neighborhoods, on that pleasant September morning.</p> + +<p>Bert Mitchell, who was the only addition to the party of the night before, ensconced herself in the hammock with +Cathy Drake. The two girls differed from each other in many respects, but were great friends, as is often the case.</p> + +<p>Bert, who was never called Bertha, as she declared in extravagant phrase that she "perfectly loathed the name," was +tall and cheery, with fine eyes, a mass of brown hair, and a voice a trifle loud. But the girls forgave her that; and +whenever she began to speak, they would always listen, assured of hearing something bright. But her most characteristic +feature was her hands. They were white and shapely, but she had a curious way of carrying them—as though she had +just put them on for the first time, and was trying different effects with them. The girls laughingly cried, "Long may +they wave!" and liked her all the same. She had an abundance of settled convictions on every possible +subject,—"positive opinions hot at all hours," Cathy's brother Fred said of her,—and she was therefore +always in a definite mood, and very good company.</p> + +<p>If, as some say, beauty is tested by the ability to wear one's hair combed straight back without being a scarecrow, +Cathy, of all the girls, came nearest to being pretty, for she, and she alone, enjoyed the luxury of an even temper +during high winds, damp days, and a vacation at the seashore. Her forehead was broad and calm, her eyes were blue and +calm, and her mouth was sweet and calm. She was not positive about anything, which greatly irritated her friend Bert, +who, indeed, flew into a comical passion one day, over her failure to arouse Cathy. Shaking her, she exclaimed, "Will +nothing on earth move you! <em>Do</em> get angry—at something or some one!—at me!—at anything! Haven't +you any depths in you? If you have, stir them up!"</p> + +<p>Cathy raised her crescent brows, and a faint color crept into her smooth cheek as she quietly said: "Depths don't +stir, my dear; and if stirred from the top, they are apt only to get muddy, you know. However, I'd like to accommodate +you by getting furiously angry—at you, for instance; this is an inviting opportunity, and I don't know that I +ought to miss it—but somehow it doesn't seem worth while." And even the obstreperous Bert was silenced by this +covert thrust.</p> + +<p>When they all had settled themselves into various cozy attitudes, Bert demanded to know the object of the caucus. "I +hope it is something interesting, for nothing but a command from you would have induced me to crawl out this morning," +she yawned, as she adjusted a sofa-pillow for her comfort.</p> + +<p>Cathy murmured, "Hear! Hear!" but was evidently more absorbed in Evelyn's explanation of a new Kensington stitch.</p> + +<p>Nan rapped sharply with the handle of a tennis racquet, and requested order. Then she gave a little cough, tossed the +grape-vine over her shoulder, and began:</p> + +<p>"Fellow-citizens! I come before you on this auspicious occasion to declare treason—treason to the tyrant +commonly called 'polite society.' I've come to the solemn conclusion that it is about time I began to prepare to +live."</p> + +<p>She was at this point interrupted by a groan, and Bert asked:</p> + +<p>"Why, aren't you alive, Nan? I am. Life so far is a great success, and it is all your own fault if you don't think so +too. You have all the conveniences for having an uncommonly favored existence, if you only <em>insisted</em> on thinking +so."</p> + +<p>But Nan retorted: "That's just it—<em>if</em> one could only think so! Aye, there's the rub. This is the place +for tears. Oh, dear!—I can't whip my thoughts into obedience to my will as you can, Bert. I have, as you say, all +the so-called 'opportunities' for having a so-called 'fine time,' and when I am old and gray, no one can say that I did +not improve them with unflagging diligence. But I don't really enjoy myself, and I don't believe you do +either—only you'll never own to it. Now, girls, honor bright, do you honestly think we amount to much? Are we +getting the most out of life?"</p> + +<p>The impressiveness of the moment was ruined by the arrival of a green grape, plump upon the speaker's nose.</p> + +<p>Nan was good-natured enough to laugh with the rest, as she gave it a well-directed aim back at Bert.</p> + +<p>At this point Evelyn rescued the meeting from total disorder, by boldly announcing: "Stay, girls! I agree with Nan, +so far as I know what she means. Oh, she was sublime last night! I wilted under the heat of her eloquence, and I +proclaim myself her humble follower."</p> + +<p>At this encouragement, Nan administered a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_686" id="Page_686">[Pg 686]</a></span> + +smothering hug to her noble champion; but suddenly she seemed to change her tactics from harangue to intrigue, for, +helping herself to a bunch of Dianas, she said languidly:</p> + +<p>"Well, the curbed lion of my spirit was rampant last night, for I had a very inane time at that party—or +perhaps I ate too much of the lemon streak of my Neapolitan ice; at all events, I was rash enough to declare war to the +knife on all inducements from the giddy world again."</p> + +<p>"But you will go to the next party as usual," interrupted Bert, as she left the hammock. "You will go every time, my +dear; you can't help it; it is inevitable fate; so you'd better calm down and meditate on your next gown."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Bert! You've said it now!" almost shouted Nan. "<em>That's</em> the very point! Is it 'inevitable fate' that we +go on and on? I want something more worth the while. Do be patient with me, and let me lay the case before you as it +looks to me. Here we are, every last girl of us out of school, and doing absolutely nothing. What would we think of +young men who dawdled about at this rate, contenting themselves with a little dusting, arranging a few flowers, doing a +bit of embroidery now and then, and in <em>very</em> energetic moments painting a teacup, but chiefly being 'in +society,' and not earning one square inch even of their manly clothing? Horrors! I wouldn't recognize such a ninny!"</p> + +<p>The silenced audience looked sufficiently awe-struck to encourage Nan to continue.</p> + +<p>"Now, are we one whit more to be envied, just because we are girls? Wake up, Bert! And now that I'm awake myself, I +think I shall actually blush the next time Father pays me my allowance."</p> + +<p>"Well, girls, Nan is in earnest," said Evelyn. "Cathy and I were almost set to thinking by her burning eloquence last +night—and I can assure you she has a scheme on foot; so, as a humble champion, I request an expression from the +meeting, upon certain points. Firstly, all who agree that the present state of things isn't very satisfying, will please +manifest it by holding up the right hand."</p> + +<p>Cathy's gold thimble gleamed in the air. Bert was ostensibly asleep, with her head against the pillar, but suddenly +she sat erect, and said with great decision:</p> + +<p>"I think that you are running your precious heads against a wall—and, I assure you, the wall doesn't mind it in +the least. You are in the world, and you would better treat it politely or you will get roundly snubbed in return. As +for me, I <em>must</em> meet people. Until Nan or some other philosopher offers something enticing, <em>I</em> remain +true to the ship."</p> + +<p>"But suppose we do offer something in its place," said Evelyn, who had rolled up her work and stuck her needle +through it, as though she were fastening an idea within.</p> + +<p>"You are not much of a sinner, so entice away," said Bert, smilingly, folding her hands.</p> + +<p>"Well," Evelyn proceeded with a comical drawl, "let's be a club——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm clubbed black and blue now!" gasped Bert; "do try again, sweet child!"</p> + +<p>"Let's be a club," Evelyn repeated severely, "and let us read, or study, or work, with all the might that is in +us."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the clouds had been clearing from Nan's brow, and now she called out delightedly:</p> + +<p>"You are getting 'warm', as we used to say when we played 'hunt the thimble'; you are certainly traveling toward +milder climes, Evelyn. Yes, let us do something in earnest—and I know what I'm going to do, too!'</p> + +<p>"What? what?" sounded in chorus.</p> + +<p>"I'm going—to—earn—my—own—living."</p> + +<p>At each emphatic word, Nan bobbed her head in the most decisive manner. "I'm going to seek my fortune, and I'm going +to try to lead a genuine existence."</p> + +<p>The girls sat stunned, with wide open eyes, till Bert suddenly pounded on the floor with heavy applause, and Evelyn +asked breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"Why, Nan, has Father failed, or lost anything?"</p> + +<p>"No, <em>he</em> hasn't," answered Nan grimly, "but I have. What have I ever done since I was graduated but drift +about, vainly trying to amuse myself. Why, girls, we have <em>futures</em> before us——"</p> + +<p>"No, not <em>before</em> us?" laughed Bert with mock incredulity.</p> + +<p>But Nan, undisturbed by Bert's interruption, went calmly on:</p> + +<p>"Do we wish to belong to that class of helpless women who are aghast and powerless if misfortune overtakes them? Do +we wish to depend on others all our lives—even if we have a fair prospect of property of our own" (looking hard at +Bert). "Remember that the wheel of Fortune turns once in most lives, and <em>I</em> shouldn't like to be flattened under +it!"</p> + +<p>The attention of her hearers was suddenly startled by an exclamation from Bert, who stood up, with both hands at her +heart, in apparent agony. Recovering, however, with astonishing alacrity, she murmured: "Oh, it is nothing—nothing +but a barbed arrow driven home."</p> + +<p>And with this mysterious remark, she settled her hat, declared it was dinner-time, and, refusing to explain her +unwonted reserve, laughingly tore herself away.</p> + +<p class="center">(<em>To be continued.</em>)</p> + + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_687" id="Page_687">[Pg 687]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE PUSSIES' COATS.</h2> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus718.jpg" width="600" height="292" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3">O pussies dear,</span> + <span class="ind3">It's very queer</span> + <span class="ind1">That you wear your fur coats all the year!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3">Mamma, in May,</span> + <span class="ind3">Put hers away.</span> + <span class="ind1">I should think you'd be too warm to play.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE KELP-GATHERERS.</h2> +<h4>[<em>A Story of the Maine Coast.</em>]</h4> +<h3><span class="smcap">By J. T. Trowbridge.</span></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter VI.</span></h4> +<h5>CAMPING ON THE BEACH.</h5> + +<p>The kelp-gatherers, with their tip-cart and ox-team, had in the meanwhile entered the belt of woods which stretched +along the coast, back from the sea. Tall trees rose on both sides of the narrow, sandy road, their tops meeting +overhead. There was on the outskirts a scanty undergrowth, which, however, soon disappeared, leaving the open aisles of +the forest, with here a brown carpet of pine-needles, and there a patch of bright moss.</p> + +<p>The sun was going down. The spots and flickers of wine-colored light vanished from the boughs. The long bars of +shadow, cast by the great trunks, became merged in one universal shade, and evening shut down upon the woods.</p> + +<p>Soon another sound mingled with that of the wind sweeping through the pines and firs. It was the roar of the sea.</p> + +<p>The boys were more quiet now, the solemn scene filling their hearts with quiet joy. The large trees soon gave place +to a smaller and thicker growth of spruce and balsam, the boughs of which now and then touched the cart-wheels as they +passed. Somewhere in the dim wilderness, a thrush piped his evening song.</p> + +<p>"Hark!" said Perce. "I heard something besides a bird. Is somebody calling?"</p> + +<p>"A loon," said Moke.</p> + +<p>"A loon out on the water," said Poke. "The sea is just off here."</p> + +<p>They soon had glimpses of it through openings among the trees. But now the sound of it became louder; the woods, too, +moaned like another sea in the wind, and the cries were no longer heard.</p> + +<p>They came out upon a spot of low grassy ground behind the sand-hills. There was a fresh-water pool near by. Perce +thought it a good place for the oxen; and he turned them out on the road-side. Mrs. Murcher's boarding-house was in +sight.</p> + +<p>"Suppose I run up there and find Olly before it gets any darker," said Perce. "You can be + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_688" id="Page_688">[Pg 688]</a></span> + +unhitching the steers from the cart, and getting 'em around in a good place to feed. Fasten 'em to the cart-wheel by +this rope; tie it in the ring of the yoke. Let 'em drink first."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the twins. "Go ahead."</p> + +<p>And off Perce ran to summon his friend to their festivities.</p> + +<p>The twins turned the cattle into the grass, and then began to make things ready for their camp and supper; keeping up +all the time an incessant dialogue, which prevented them from hearing again the cries of the supposed loon, growing +fainter and fainter on the distant waves.</p> + +<p>Neither did Perce hear them as he hastened along the path in the gloomy hollow, and mounted the piazza steps. In the +hall-door of the boarding-house, he was met by a tall girl of seventeen, with a fine brunette complexion, piercing dark +eyes, and a high, thin, Roman nose.</p> + +<p>Overawed a little by her rather imposing style of dress and features, Perce took off his cap, and begging her pardon, +inquired for Oliver Burdeen.</p> + +<p>"Burdeen? Oliver?" she queried. "Oh!" with a pleasant smile, "you mean Olly!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied. "We all call him Olly where he lives, but I wasn't sure he would be known by that name here."</p> + +<p>"He isn't known by any other!" replied the young lady with a laugh. "He's about, somewhere; I believe he's always +about, somewhere! Mrs. Merriman," she called to a lady in the parlor, "where's the ubiquitous Olly?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Amy," replied the lady. "Didn't he go with the gentlemen in the yacht?"</p> + +<p>Amy "almost thought he did"; yet it seemed to her she had seen him that afternoon; a position of uncertainty on the +part of that young lady, which wouldn't have been highly flattering to the vanity of Master Burdeen, even if he hadn't +been at that moment beyond the reach of flattery.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Murcher can tell you," she said, turning to walk back to the end of the hall. "She is here, in the +dining-room."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murcher thought Olly must be in his room.</p> + +<p>"I believe he is going home this evening," she said; "he wants to show his folks a new suit of clothes that has been +given him. I guess he's trying them on."</p> + +<p>"I am a neighbor of his," said Perce. "I am camping on the beach with some friends; and we want him to join us."</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed the landlady, "you can go right up to his room and find him. It's in the old part of the house; but +you'd better go up the front way; it's lighter."</p> + +<p>She was explaining to Perce that he must go up one flight, proceed to the end of the corridor, and then step down +into a lower passage—when the tall young brunette called over the banisters, "I'll show him!"</p> + +<p>He mounted after her; and she threw open the door of what seemed an unoccupied room, to let more light from its +windows into the corridor.</p> + +<p>"Be careful not to stumble!" she warned him. "That's his room, right before you, as you go down those steps."</p> + +<p>So saying, she disappeared in some other room, and Perce was left alone in the dim hall. He paused a moment to get a +glimpse of the sea through the door and window of the room she had opened, which happened to be Mr. Hatville's room; +then he groped his way to Olly's door and knocked.</p> + +<p>In a little while, he returned alone to his friends on the beach.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't find him," he said. "Mrs. Murcher sent me up to his room, but he wasn't there; and I went all over the +place. Then she said she thought he must have gone home, to show his folks a new suit of clothes; he had asked her if he +might; but she didn't expect him to go so soon."</p> + +<p>"Olly's made, if he's got some new clothes!" said Moke.</p> + +<p>"He never would speak to us, after that!" said Poke. "Never mind; we can 'wake Nicodemus' without him."</p> + +<p>"Wake Nicodemus!" Moke shouted gleefully, to hear his voice resound in the woods.</p> + +<p>"Wake Nicodemus!" Poke repeated. And the three joined gayly in the chorus of a song then popular:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Now, run and tell Elijah to hurry up Pomp,</span> + <span class="ind1">And meet us at the gum-tree down in the swamp,</span> + <span class="ind4">To wake Nicodemus to-day!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The very human biped whose cries had been mistaken for a loon's, heard their voices wafted to him by the +wind—the same wind that was blowing him farther and farther from the shore.</p> + +<p>He screamed again, wildly; but his own voice sounded weaker and weaker, while the merry chorus still went up from the +little camping party on the beach:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Wake Nicodemus to-day!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The boys sang and chatted as they worked. They made their beds in a hollow of the windswept dunes, where there would +be less annoyance from mosquitoes than in the shelter of the woods, and spread their hay and blankets upon the dry +sand.</p> + +<p>"Besides," said Perce, "the daylight will strike us here, and wake us early."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_689" id="Page_689">[Pg 689]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wake Nicodemus!" laughed Poke.</p> + +<p>And then they all burst forth again:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Wake Nicodemus to-day!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The chasing clouds gathered, until the sky was almost completely overcast. The moon would not rise till late; it +became dark rapidly. But as the gloom of night thickened on land and sea, a little golden flame shot up on the shore, +and grew large and bright as the surrounding shadows became more dense.</p> + +<p>It was the flame of the boys' camp-ire, which they kindled on the seaward side of the dunes, and fed with rubbish +from the high-water mark of the recent storm. Later tides had not then reached it, and plenty of it was dry enough to +burn.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 505px;"> +<img src="images/illus721.jpg" width="505" height="600" alt="Perce and the Twins on Their Way to the Beach." title="" /> +<span class="caption">PERCE AND THE TWINS ON THEIR WAY TO THE BEACH.</span> +</div> + +<p>Chips and old shingles, bleached sea-weed, broken planks, strips and slabs from saw-mills on some far-away river, and +other refuse, littered the strand,—here, a broken lobster-pot which the rolling waves had washed ashore, and +there, a ship's fender, worn smooth, with a fragment of rope still held in the auger-hole by its knotted end.</p> + +<p>Such of this fuel as best suited their immediate purpose the boys gathered for their fire; and Olly, in his +wave-tossed boat, could see their agile figures running to and fro in the light of the flames.</p> + +<p>"There'll be heaps of flood-wood, as well as kelp, for us to gather to-morrow," said Perce. "Don't put any more on +the fire, boys."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked the twins.</p> + +<p>"There's no use wasting it," answered Perce, adding, "We've fire enough. We'll roast our corn and go to bed, so as to +be up early. It'll be high tide before five to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Then wake Nicodemus!" cried Moke in a gleeful tone.</p> + +<p>And again the three boys raised the wild chorus of the old plantation song.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_690" id="Page_690">[Pg 690]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Olly ought to be here!" said Perce. "He must have gone home by the coast; and that's the way we missed him."</p> + +<p>Even then, but for the noise of the surf and the whistling of the wind, they might have heard Olly's last screams; +and by straining their eyes they might have seen far out on the gloomy deep a dim object, now rising for a moment +against the line of the evening sky, and now disappearing in a hollow of the waves.</p> + +<p>With hay about their heads to shelter them from the wind, and the light of their camp-fire gleaming over them, the +kelp-gatherers lay under their blankets, in the hollow of the dunes. They talked or sang until the flames died to a +feeble glimmer, that served to bring out by contrast the surrounding gloom of sea and land and sky.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it dark, though!" exclaimed Perce. "I had no idea it would cloud so. I believe it is going to rain. Then +shan't we be in a fix?"</p> + +<p>"It can't rain," said Moke.</p> + +<p>"No fear of that," added Poke, in a muffled voice from under his blanket.</p> + +<p>"What's the reason?" Perce demanded.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Moses said so," replied both the twins together.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, of course it can't!" laughed Perce. "And the wind wont change, and carry the kelp all off, and land it on +some other beach, as it did the last time I was coming to get sea-weed here. The wind clipped around to the nor'ard and +northeast, and in the morning this beach, that had been covered with it, was as clean as a whistle; while Coombs's Cove, +where there hadn't been any, was full of it."</p> + +<p>"Who's going to wake Nicodemus in the morning?" asked Moke.</p> + +<p>"The one who's first awake himself," said Perce. And he sang, the others joining in:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"'Wake me up,' was his charge, 'at the first break of day,</span> + <span class="ind1">Wake me up for the great jubilee!'"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>After that they became silent. The fire died on the beach. The breakers plunged and drew back, with incessant noise, +in the darkness; the wind moaned in the woods, and whistled among the coarse sparse grass and wild peas that grew about +the dunes. But notwithstanding the strangeness of their situation, the boys were soon asleep.</p> + +<p>Uncle Moses proved a true prophet. There was no rain in the huddling clouds that at one time overspread the sky. They +broke and lifted, and bright stars peeped from under their heavy lids. Then the moon rose and silvered them, and shed a +strange light upon the limitless, unresting, solitary waves.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VII.</h4> + +<h5>ADRIFT IN A DORY.</h5> + +<p>For a long time Olly could see the boys by the light of their camp-fire, excepting when the tops of the rolling +billows hid them from view.</p> + +<p>Although too far off at any time to recognize his friends, he made out snatches of the song then in vogue in his +neighborhood; and he believed the camping party to be Frog-End boys who had come to the beach for kelp.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they passed between him and the fire; and finally they stood or crouched around it, as the wavering flames +died down to a bright-red glow on the shore. To see them so near and so happy—it seemed to him that everybody was +happy who was not paddling desperately in a frail skiff, against a relentless wind—to hear them singing and +shouting, so wholly unconscious of him in his distress, was intolerable agony.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why can't they hear?" he exclaimed, in a voice to the last degree hoarse with calling for help. "Why couldn't +they look this way once? Now it is too late!"</p> + +<p>He was by that time greatly exhausted; for when not signaling and calling, he had been making frantic efforts to +paddle the dory against the wind. At first he had used the oar-handle, but he found it wholly ineffectual. Then he had +torn up one of the thwarts, but it was too short and too clumsy for his purpose; and though for a time he seemed to make +headway, the distance from the shore was steadily increasing.</p> + +<p>If he could have held the boat in its course, as with a pair of oars, he might have made progress even with that +unwieldly paddle. But he lost time and strength in shifting it from side to side; and, spite of all he could do, the +wind and the waves would now and then give the light, veering skiff a turn, and he would suddenly find himself paddling +out to sea! However, those efforts prevented him from being blown speedily out of sight of land. And when the boys on +the beach, after due preparation, stuck their ears of green corn on the sharpened ends of sticks and roasted them in the +fire, he still kept the little group in view. He had no doubt that they were cooking their supper. No wonder he wept +with despair at the contrast of that cheerful scene with his own terrible situation!</p> + +<p>The fire faded to a red eye of burning coals; all other objects grew indistinct, excepting the black outline of the +woods against the soft evening red of a rift in the sky, and one pure star brightening in those ethereal depths. Another +starry beam, which he could plainly discern, but which was too low down for a star, Olly knew must be a light in one of +the upper windows of the boarding-house.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_691" id="Page_691">[Pg 691]</a></span></p> + +<p>Was it in Mr. Hatville's room? Had he returned and discovered the loss of his watch? And could poor Olly hope ever to +make restitution and explanations? Suppose he should indeed be lost at sea! Would it not be believed that he had yielded +to temptation and had purposely run away with the watch?</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 570px;"> +<img src="images/illus724.jpg" width="570" height="600" alt="''HE MADE FRANTIC EFFORTS TO PADDLE THE DORY AGAINST THE WIND.''" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"HE MADE FRANTIC EFFORTS TO PADDLE THE DORY AGAINST THE WIND."</span> +</div> + +<p>The danger his life was in was enough for the wretched boy, without this fear for his reputation. He thought of his +folks at home,—his mother and sisters, for his father was dead,—and he wondered if they would believe him +capable of a folly so much greater than that he had in mind when he so innocently (as it seemed to him then, but not +now) borrowed the bright bauble! And what would Amy Canfield think?</p> + +<p>All vanity had been killed in him from the moment he found himself in actual peril. It made him sick at heart to +remember the satisfaction he had so lately felt in his new clothes. He no longer drew the watch proudly from his pocket; +hardly once did he glance downward at the big seal and gold guard hooked in the button-hole of his vest—a hated +sight to him now.</p> + +<p>When all hope of reaching the shore against such a wind was gone, he still struggled to keep the dory within hailing +distance of the yacht, when it should come beating up from the northeast. But no yacht hove in sight; and if it passed, +it must have been under the shadow of the shore. Clouds closed again over the one bright star and the patch of silver +light in the west. The utter desolation of night lay about him on the lonely, weltering waters. All along the coast now +he could see occasional lights—the lights in happy dwellings; but on the seaward side, only a faint gleam showed +the line where sky and ocean met. There were no sounds but the ceaseless turmoil of the billows, the frequent slapping +of a wave under the flat-bottomed boat, and his own fitful sobs.</p> + +<p>His last hope lay in crossing the track of some coaster or fishing-craft that might pick him up. But could that occur +before morning? And could he expect that his ill-managed dory would ride safely all night on the increasing waves? The +strong wind off shore, meeting the ocean swells, was blowing up a heavy chop-sea that threatened a new danger. What a +night was before him, at the best!</p> + +<p>Suddenly his hat blew off, and disappeared immediately on the black waves.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_692" id="Page_692">[Pg 692]</a></span></p> + +<p>The distant sails he had seen at first had vanished as the swift night shut down; but now he discerned two dim lights +in different directions, evidently far away.</p> + +<p>He was gazing after them, and looking anxiously for nearer lights or sails, when he was aware of a low, dark object +just before him, rising from the deep. What could it be?—with something white flashing upon it! And what was the +sound he heard?</p> + +<p>"The Cow and Calf!" he exclaimed, with sudden excitement, almost as if he had seen a friend.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VIII.</h4> + +<h5>THE COW AND CALF.</h5> + +<p>"The Old Cow" and "The Calf" are two enormous ledges lying not far asunder, within sight from the coast in clear +weather. "The Cow" is never completely submerged; her bare brown back appears above the highest tides.</p> + +<p>"The Calf" is not so fortunate; the sea must be very calm at high water, when it is not buried in the surf.</p> + +<p>Near one end of it, to mark the position of the dangerous reef, a pole is anchored, rising out of the water with a +slant that has gained for it the name of "The Calf's Tail." Often at high tide the tail only can be seen sticking out of +the sea.</p> + +<p>What Olly saw and heard was the billows combing over the end of one of those huge rocks. He wondered why he hadn't +thought of them before; for it now occurred to him that if he could land on "The Old Cow," he might safely pass the +night on her back, and be seen from the shore, or from some passing craft, in the morning.</p> + +<p>But which of the ledges was he approaching? Familiar as their forms were to him, seen from the shore, he could not in +his strange position, in the night, and amid the dashing waves, decide whether he was coming upon "The Old Cow" or "The +Calf."</p> + +<p>Trembling with fresh hope and fear, and paddling cautiously, he strained his eyes in the darkness, to get the broad +outline of the ledge against the faint sky-line. There was something awful in the sound of the surf on those desolate +rocks. The surges leapt and fell, rushing along the reef and pouring in dimly-seen cataracts over the ledges, their loud +buffets followed by mysterious gurglings and murmurings, which might well appall the heart of a wave-tossed boy.</p> + +<p>The wind was blowing him on; but it was still in his power to pass the end of the rock, or drive his dory upon the +windward side, where the ocean swells broke with least force. If he could only be sure which rock it was! But he could +distinguish nothing. All was as strange to him as if he had been adrift on the lonesomest unknown sea in the world.</p> + +<p>If it was "The Calf," then "The Tail" should be at the other end, and "The Old Cow" beyond. If "The Cow," "The Calf" +must be in the other direction, and a little farther seaward; he might pass between the two.</p> + +<p>He was getting used to his clumsy paddle; with it he kept his dory off as well as he could, but in a state of +terrible anxiety, thinking his life might depend on what he should decide to do the next minute. He was still +hesitating, when accident decided for him.</p> + +<p>The skiff was headed to the wind, against which he continued to paddle, when suddenly a billow shot over a sunken +projection of the ledge, smiting the end of the boat with a force that slung it half about in an instant.</p> + +<p>Olly felt a small deluge of water dash over and drench him from behind. He was past thinking of his new clothes now; +he thought of the dory. Even then it might have escaped capsizing if it had not met at the same instant a cross-wave, +which tumbled aboard from the other side.</p> + +<p>The two filled it so nearly that the water rushed cold across his knees; and he knew that nothing he could do would +prevent the boat from sinking. Indeed, as the very next wave swept in, it settled on one side, and then slowly rolled +over. To save himself, Olly sprang up, grasping first the uppermost rail, then clinging to the bottom of the overturned +skiff, until another billow swept him off.</p> + +<p>He was an accomplished swimmer, as I think I have said before; and now that skill stood him in good stead. In the +first moment of his immersion he lost his bearings; but rising with a wave, he looked about him from its crest, and saw +the little island not a hundred feet away.</p> + +<p>He made for it at once, directing his course to a spot which the overleaping surge did not reach.</p> + +<p>The waves were dashing all about the rock, to be sure; and to land safely upon it at any point would require not only +vigilance, but good fortune.</p> + +<p>I hardly know whether he was much frightened or not; he himself couldn't have told. He didn't stop for a moment to +reason about the situation, but obeying the mere instinct of self-preservation, he swam to the ledge.</p> + +<p>He was lucky enough to find a spot where it sloped gently into the sea. He swam in on a wave, and as it subsided, he +clung to the rock.</p> + +<p>The broken surface of the rock was covered with barnacles, which cut his hands; but he held on. They also scratched +his knees through his torn + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_693" id="Page_693">[Pg 693]</a></span> + +clothing, as he climbed up to the smoother rocks above.</p> + +<p>The slant to the water was such that he could not, in the darkness, judge of his elevation above the sea-level; nor +could he determine, from that, whether he had been thrown upon "The Old Cow" or "The Calf."</p> + +<p>Yet everything depended upon the answer to that question. If on the greater rock, he was comparatively safe; if on +the smaller, his respite would be brief—he might expect the next tide to carry him off.</p> + +<p>Groping about on the jagged summit, trying to identify the rock by its form, his foot plashed in a pool of water. He +paused, startled by the thought that here was a means of deciding his fate.</p> + +<p>No doubt, much sea-spray dashed upon the back even of "The Old Cow," in rough weather. But copious rains had +succeeded the last gale; and so, if that little pool was on the large rock, the water it held could not be very salt. If +on the back of "The Calf," it was the leavings of the last tide. He felt that his doom was in the taste of that +water.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, heaving a sigh of dread; then he stooped quickly and put his hand into the pool. He lifted the wet +fingers to his lips, and immediately grew faint—the water was bitterly salt.</p> + +<p>Still, after a little reflection, he would not give up all hope. The sea must have broken clear over "The Cow's" +back, in the last storm; and the rain might have had little effect in freshening the contents of the basin. He thought +of another test.</p> + +<p>Barnacles live in the sea, or in receptacles of sea-water replenished at every tide. If he was upon the back of "The +Old Cow," the pool would be free from them; if on "The Calf," there would be the usual incrustations about its +edges.</p> + +<p>Once more he put down his groping hand; and then he uttered a despairing wail.</p> + +<p>The barnacles were there!</p> + +<p class="center">(<em>To be continued.</em>)</p> + + +<hr /> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 478px;"> +<img src="images/illus727.jpg" width="478" height="600" alt="A Belated Fairy." title="" /> +<span class="caption">A BELATED FAIRY.</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_694" id="Page_694">[Pg 694]</a></span></p> + +<h2>AUNT DEBORAH'S LESSON.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By G. H. Baskette.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 138px;"> +<img src="images/illus728.jpg" width="138" height="300" alt="T" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br />he good lands! What's that!" excitedly cried frightened Aunt Deborah.</p> + +<p>Aunt Deborah might well exclaim in surprise. For as she sat knitting quietly and humming a quaint old tune of long +ago, one she had learned as a child——C-r-rash! bang! came a stone into the room, shivering the window-pane, +just missing the swinging lamp in the hallway, making an ugly scar on the cabinet, and breaking into fragments a +handsome vase. Then, as if satisfied with the mischief it had done, it rolled lazily across the floor, and finally +stopped under the table, an inert, jagged bit of granite.</p> + +<p>Aunt Deborah, as the stone pursued its reckless course, placed her hands over her head, and shrank back into her +chair, a frightened and unwilling witness to the destruction of her property. It was quite distressing.</p> + +<p>Besides the nervous shock, there was the broken window; there was the cabinet showing a great white dent that could +not easily be removed; and there, too, was the vase she had kept so many long years, lying shattered and ruined before +her eyes.</p> + +<p>Aunt Deborah was one of the best and most kind-hearted of women; but—she was human, and the sudden havoc +wrought by the missile exasperated as well as frightened her. She rushed to the window and opened it in time to see +three or four boys scampering down the street as fast as their legs could carry them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you young scapegraces!" she cried. "If I could once lay hold on you, wouldn't I teach you a lesson!"</p> + +<p>But the boys never stopped until they had disappeared around a friendly corner. Aunt Deborah was so overcome by the +accident, and so intent upon watching the retreating boys to whom she desired to teach a lesson, that she did not at +first notice a barefooted lad standing under the window on the pavement below, holding a battered old hat in his hand, +and looking up at her with a scared face and tearful eyes.</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss," said the boy tremulously.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Who are you? Who threw that stone at my window?" called out Aunt Deborah, as she spied him.</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss," pleaded the boy, fumbling nervously his torn hat, "I threw it, but I didn't mean to do it."</p> + +<p>"Didn't mean to do it, eh?" replied Aunt Deborah, fiercely. "I suppose the stone picked itself up and pitched itself +through my glass!"</p> + +<p>"I was going to throw it down the street, but Bill Philper touched my arm, and it turned and hit your window," he +explained.</p> + +<p>There was an air of frankness and truth about the boy, and the fact that he had not run away like the others (whom, +somehow, Aunt Deborah held chiefly responsible for the outrage), caused her to relent a little toward him.</p> + +<p>"Come in here," she said, after eying him closely for a moment.</p> + +<p>The lad hesitated; but summoning all his courage, he went up the steps, and soon stood in her presence.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that" she said, pointing at the window—"and that"—(at the cabinet)—"and +that?"—(at the broken vase)—"and that?"—(at the stone.) "Now, isn't that a fine performance?"</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," said the boy, the tears welling into his eyes again.</p> + +<p>He looked ruefully about at the damaged articles, and glanced at the stone, wishing heartily that he had never seen +it.</p> + +<p>"Now, what's to be done about it?" asked she.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, ma'am," said he, very ill at ease. "I will try to pay you for it."</p> + +<p>"What can you pay, I should like to know?" she said, glancing at his patched coat and trousers and his torn hat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_695" id="Page_695">[Pg 695]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I sell papers," said he; "and I can pay you a little on it every week."</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Sam Wadley," answered the boy.</p> + +<p>"Have you a father?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," replied Sam; "he's dead."</p> + +<p>"Have you a mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"What does she do?" continued Aunt Deborah.</p> + +<p>"She sews, and I help her all I can, selling papers."</p> + +<p>"How can you pay me anything then?"</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/illus729.jpg" width="550" height="547" alt="There Sat Aunt Deborah Earnestly Knitting." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THERE SAT AUNT DEBORAH EARNESTLY KNITTING." [<a href="#Page_696">SEE NEXT PAGE.</a>]</span> +</div> + +<p>"Please, ma'am, I'll tell Mother all about it, and she'll be willing for me to pay you all I make."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, we'll see if you are a boy to keep his word," said Aunt Deborah.</p> + +<p>"How much must I pay?" Sam inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Let me see." Aunt Deborah put on her spectacles and made a critical survey of the room. "Window—fifty cents; +vase—one dollar—I wouldn't have had it broken for five!—That'll do—one dollar and a half. I +shan't charge you for the dent in the furniture."</p> + +<p>"I'll try to pay you something on it every week," said Sam. "There are some days when I don't make anything; but when +I do, I'll save it for you."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Aunt Deborah; "you may go now."</p> + +<p>He thanked her, and went slowly out, while Aunt Deborah began to pick up the fragments strewn over the floor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wait a moment!" she cried.</p> + +<p>Sam came back.</p> + +<p>"Take this stone out with you, and be careful what you do with it, next time," she said. "By + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_696" id="Page_696">[Pg 696]</a></span> + +the way, if you wish to keep out of trouble, you'd better not keep company with that Flipper boy—" Aunt Deborah +had a rather poor memory for names—"if I had him, wouldn't I give him a lesson!"</p> + +<p>She uttered the last sentence with such a relish, that Sam was glad enough to get away. He was afraid she might +conclude to bestow upon him the salutary lesson which she had proposed to give "Flipper," as she called him.</p> + +<p>Sam hurried home as fast as he could. His mother, a pale, delicate woman whose wan features and sunken eyes showed +the effects of too hard work, heard his simple tale, wiped away his tears and encouraged him in his resolve to pay for +the damage he had done.</p> + +<p>From that day, Sam began to be very diligent, and to earn pennies in every honest way possible to him. And every week +he carried some small amount to Aunt Deborah.</p> + +<p>"That boy has some good in him," she said when he had brought his first installment. And though she grew more kind +toward him every time he came, occasionally giving him a glass of milk, a sandwich or a cake, she rarely failed to warn +him against the influence of that "Flipper" boy.</p> + +<p>His young companions laughed at him for paying his money to Aunt Deborah, and called him a coward for not running +away when they ran; but all they said did not turn him from his purpose.</p> + +<p>One evening he went with a cheerful heart to pay his last installment.</p> + +<p>As he passed the window of the sitting-room he glanced in. There sat Aunt Deborah, earnestly knitting. The lamplight +fell upon her sober face and Sam wondered if she ever looked really smiling and pleasant. "It doesn't seem as though she +would be so stiff with a fellow," he said to himself. Then, in response to her "Come in," he entered the room and handed +her his money.</p> + +<p>"I believe that is all, ma'am," said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that pays the whole sum," said Aunt Deborah; "you have done well."</p> + +<p>"I am still very sorry I have troubled you, and I hope you forgive me," he said.</p> + +<p>"I do, with all my heart," said she earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Sam, as he started out, picking his old hat from the floor, where he had placed it; on +entering.</p> + +<p>"Come back," said Aunt Deborah, "I've something more to say to you."</p> + +<p>With a startled look he turned into the room.</p> + +<p>Aunt Deborah went to the cabinet and unlocked it. She first took out a pair of new shoes, then half a dozen pairs of +socks, some underclothing, two nice shirts, a neat woolen suit, and lastly a good felt hat.</p> + +<p>"Sam," said she to the astonished lad, "I have taken your money, not because I wanted it, but because I wished to +test you. I wished to see whether you really meant to pay me. That Flipper boy would never have done it, I am sure. You +have done so well in bringing me your little savings that I have learned to like you very much. Now I wish to make you a +present of these articles. In the pocket of this jacket you will find the money you have paid me. I wouldn't take a cent +of it. It is yours. You must keep working and adding to it, so that you can soon help your mother more. Go to work now +with a light heart, and grow up a true and an honest man. Tell your mother that I say she has a fine son."</p> + +<p>In making this speech, Aunt Deborah's features relaxed into a pleasant smile; and Sam smiled too, and was so pleased +that he could hardly utter his thanks.</p> + +<p>"And mind you," continued she, suddenly changing the current of his thoughts, "don't associate with that Flipper +boy!"</p> + +<p>"Please, ma'am," said Sam, feeling a twinge of conscience that his former companion should bear so much of the blame, +"you have been very kind to me, but Bill Philper didn't know the stone would turn as it did, and break your window."</p> + +<p>"Then why did he run away?" inquired Aunt Deborah somewhat fiercely. "It's quite proper that you should try to excuse +him, Sam; but I should like to teach him a good lesson?"</p> + +<p>"You—you—have taught me a good lesson," said Sam, with a blushing face, "and I—I—thank you +very much for it."</p> + +<p>Aunt Deborah smiled benignly again, and warmly bidding Sam to come often to see her, she let him out at the door.</p> + +<p>She felt very happy as Sam disappeared down the street, and he was very happy, as he hurried home with his great +bundle, and told his mother all about it, which made that good woman very happy, too. So they were very happy all +around.</p> + +<p>And it all came about because Sam had stood up like a brave boy to confess his wrong, which is always manly; and had +offered reparation for it, which is always right; and had gone forward, in spite of the taunts of his companions, +denying himself pleasures and comforts in order to do that which he knew to be right, which is always heroic.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_697" id="Page_697">[Pg 697]</a></span></p> + +<h2>Of Timothy Timid and his happy thought:</h2> +<h3>these lines and pictures by A. Brennan.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Timothy Timid, they say,</span> + <span class="ind1">Once traveled the loneliest way;</span> + <span class="ind1">For he traveled by night</span> + <span class="ind2">Lest he should take fright</span> + <span class="ind1">At things he could see in the day.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 470px;"> +<img src="images/illus732.jpg" width="470" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_698" id="Page_698">[Pg 698]</a></span></p> + +<h2>READY FOR BUSINESS; OR, CHOOSING AN OCCUPATION. <a name="FNanchor_B" id="FNanchor_B"></a><a href="#Footnote_B" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /> +A SERIES OF PRACTICAL PAPERS FOR BOYS.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By George J. Manson.</span></h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Boat-Building.</span></h4> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus734.jpg" width="200" height="250" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Boat-building is by no means one of the "lost arts," although in this age of steam and iron, the "good old days" of +the ship-builders are a thing of the past. Of late years, however, there has been a marked increase in the trade, and +although the work is confined principally to yachts and smaller craft, the steady growth of this branch of boat-building +offers excellent inducements to any young man whose tastes lie in that direction.</p> + +<p>I know of one boy at least, now sixteen years of age, who intends to fit himself during the next five or six years +for the occupation; and his father, a prominent and highly successful naval architect, believes that there is a very +promising future for American boat-building.</p> + +<p>I take it for granted that the future boat-builder has, as a boy, been fond of boats. He has not only taken advantage +of the rivers and ponds near his house, has navigated them in scow, in row-boat or in sail-boat, but I will suppose +that, from the time he has been the owner of a jack-knife, he has been a constructor of toy boats. And, as he has grown +older and become the possessor of a tool-chest, or, at least, of a gauge, a mallet, a saw, a plane, and a good knife, he +has wrought out miniature cutters and schooners, possibly a square-rigged ship, all of which have been much admired by +his young companions. If it has been his object in life to become a boat-builder, he could not have been better employed +during the hours that have not been taken up with school duties.</p> + +<p>In every business and profession there is some one object above all others sought after, upon which success may be +said to depend. The orator endeavors to arouse our enthusiasm, the poet appeals to our sentiments, the lawyer to our +reason, the clergyman to our conscience. The genius of the boat-builder lies in the one word "form." The one thing more +than all others for which he aims to have a reputation is the ability to give a good shape to the mass of wood or iron +coming from his hands, whether it be a man-of-war or a sail-boat. And so it was good for the boy that he made boats and +models of boats. He was getting, as the naval architect would say, "form impressed upon his brain." It may have been, it +probably was, a bad form, an incorrect form, but it was something from which to start. At all events, the boy has formed +a speaking acquaintance with the occupation he is about to enter.</p> + +<p>I shall assume that at the age of sixteen he has finished his school studies, has a good knowledge of arithmetic and +algebra, and has gone through seven books in Euclid, with special reference to being proficient in the fourth and +seventh books. Two years before this, we will suppose, he has expressed a desire to be a boat-builder. He has made a +model of some kind of a boat, and he has, as occasions have permitted, visited such ship-ards as could be found in his +vicinity, and carefully watched the men while they were at work. At last, at the age of sixteen, he enters the office of +a thoroughly competent naval architect, who either is or has been a practical ship-builder. The naval architect stands +in the same relation to ship-building that the architect of houses does to house-building, with this +difference,—not only does he make the plan, but very often he executes it as well.</p> + +<p>The beginner will find his quarters very pleasant. The room will be light, cheerful, and quiet. On the walls he will +probably see pictures of famous yachts or other vessels; there will be a small library of technical books of reference, +which he will have occasion to consult later on; there may be another student with whom he will chat now and then during +the day; or his teacher, while they are at work, may give him some stirring bits of yachting reminiscence. I only +mention this to show that there is none of that strict discipline to which the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_699" id="Page_699">[Pg 699]</a></span> + +boy has been accustomed at school. The fact is, it is not needed, for, to use the language of a well-known ship-builder, +"it is a fascinating occupation; it grows upon you; and the longer you are in it, the better you like it, that is, of +course, if you like boats and everything pertaining to them."</p> + +<p>The boy will at first be given the drawing of a midship, or central, section of a boat, and required to put a body to +it, to give it a bow, a stern—in short, to give to the boat its form. After working in that way for a while, he +will make more extended plans, until he is able to make the full design of a vessel. He will remain with this naval +architect for the space of a year; and, by that time, he should have acquired a very good knowledge of form.</p> + +<p>It is a fact that boys in England who choose this occupation for their life-work can more easily obtain a thorough +education in it than can be had by youths in our country. In England, and in France, Denmark, and other European +countries, there are schools where special technical instruction is given, and many of these are close to large +ship-yards, where the practical work of ship-building can constantly be seen. The question now arises, therefore, shall +the boy go to England and get the benefit of this instruction? It is by no means necessary that he should go there; but +if he has begun to learn while young, he can spare the time, and his parents know whether they can spare the money which +such a journey and residence would entail. If he decides to go, he will remain away for three or four years.</p> + +<p>Suppose, however, it is decided that he can not go abroad. It has cost him for the year's instruction he has received +from the naval architect, with whom he had been studying, about $1000; or, he has given his services as a draughtsman, +paid $500, and during the twelve months has "picked up" such knowledge as he could without receiving any regular +instruction. His case of drawing-instruments has cost him from $50 to $250, depending on the number of instruments, the +manner in which they are finished and the style of the case in which they are kept. Let us assume that he has been a +full-pay pupil. His time is, of course, his own. It would be a good plan, after he has acquired some theoretical +knowledge of the business, to regularly visit a shipyard and there begin to do the practical work which falls to the lot +of the boat-builder; studying in the office one-half the time and working in the yard the other half. Now you will see, +as I observed before, that boat-building is a profession and a trade. It is possible to be simply a naval architect and +only make designs for boats, but it is not advisable; it is better, by all means, to have the practical knowledge which +is obtained working among the men in the shipyard.</p> + +<p>They do not now apprentice boys as they did some fifty years ago. I have before me an indenture paper of a +ship-builder (now alive) dated in the year 1825. In it he promises "not to waste his master's goods; not to contract +matrimony within the said term; not to play at cards, dice, or any unlawful game, nor frequent ale-houses, dance-houses, +or play-houses, but in all things behave himself as a faithful apprentice ought to do during the said term." There are +no such rules laid down nowadays. Perhaps all the boys are so good that none are needed. All that needs to be done now +is for the boy to make his verbal agreement with the owner of the shipyard, and go to work.</p> + +<p>And now a word or two as to this practical work which will cover the second method of learning boat-building as +mentioned at the beginning of my paper. The boy who has not had the benefit of any previous training with an instructor +may have to commence with turning the grindstone. The tools used in boat-building are in such constant use that they +grow dull very soon, and the grindstone is kept going almost the whole of the day. Besides, the work being very heavy, +the men generally work in couples, so that the learner when he is not turning the grindstone is assisting in lifting the +heavy timbers that have to be used. The first tool he is generally permitted to use is the saw; then he begins to use +the adze; then he is trusted with the ax, and helps get out the planking and timber for the frame of the ship.</p> + +<p>Then comes the difficult part of construction. The apprentice must have learned all this work with the tools (of +which I am only able to make a passing mention), before he comes to the constructive part; that is, the part that our +pupil has been studying with the naval architect.</p> + +<p>Before the building of the ship is commenced, a small wooden model is made, to give the owner and the builder an idea +of what she is going to look like.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"A little model the master wrought,</span> + <span class="ind1">Which should be to the larger plan</span> + <span class="ind1">What the child is to the man."</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Doubtless, you have seen such models. They are built sometimes on a scale of a quarter of an inch to a foot; they are +made of pieces of cedar and pine wood, placed alternately, and show the shape and whole arrangement of one side of the +vessel. This model is glued, on its flat side, to a piece of board, for greater convenience in examination.</p> + +<p>From this model, "life-size" plans of the ship are made with chalk on the floor of a long, wide room, like a big +garret, which is used especially for + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_700" id="Page_700">[Pg 700]</a></span> + +this purpose. It will not be necessary to enter into a technical description of these plans. There are three of +them,—the sheer plan, the half-breadth plan, and the body plan. They show the position of the different planks to +be used in the construction of the ship. To gain a rough idea of these plans, take a cucumber, decide which you will +call the bottom and which the top, and cut it in the middle, lengthwise, from end to end. Look into its interior and +fancy that it is covered with lines, both horizontal and vertical—and that will give you a very rough idea of the +sheer plan. By laying the cucumber on its side and cutting it lengthwise, you will have a notion of the half-breadth +plan. A division in the middle (cutting it in two parts, so that you can see the whole circumference) may suggest to you +the body plan. This can not be made very clear, not even with drawings, because it is the most technical part of the +work; but its object is apparent. From these three plans, taken from different points of view, the boat-builder can +locate the position of every piece of plank in his vessel. So true is this that I understand it is possible to number +the planks of a ship, and send them off to some distant country, where a ship-builder can construct the vessel without +ever having seen the design.</p> + +<p>A great deal of calculation and figuring enters into this part of the work, but much of it has been made easy by the +aid of a man (now dead, I believe) named Simpson, the author of what are called "Simpson's Rules." These rules are +incorporated in small pocket handbooks which contain, in addition, a large number of tables, rules, and formulas +pertaining to naval architecture. The most popular handbook of this character in England is said to be "Mackrow's Naval +Architect and Ship-builders' Assistant," and in our country, "Haswell's Engineers' Pocket-book of Tables." These, +however, are only aids in making calculations, and are very much like the interest tables you have probably seen, which +save the trouble of going through the figuring in detail. There are a great many books which will be interesting and +valuable to the young ship-builder. To give you some idea of their character, I copy the following from the table of +contents of a recent standard work: "The displacement and buoyancy of ships;" "The oscillations of ships in still +water;" "The oscillation of ships among waves;" "Methods of observing the rolling and pitching motions of ships;" "The +structural strength of ships," etc.</p> + +<p>These titles may not at present indicate a very promising literary feast, but when the young boat-builder has +mastered the rudiments of the technical part of the profession, he will read and reread such productions with as much +pleasure as he now peruses the stories in <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>.</p> + +<p>I have not entered into the details of iron ship-building, the practical part of which the boy will learn in the same +yard in which he learns to work in wood; for it is presumed that he is going to some large yard to obtain his +instruction. Indeed, in this occupation it is the practical part that is the easiest and the most interesting to young +learners. They are apt to slight the theoretical knowledge required and to long to spend their time in the shipyard with +real tools, doing real work, for a real ship. With the boy who, through force of circumstances, has to enter on the life +of a journeyman and earn wages, there is more excuse for hastening to that branch of the work than for the lad who is +better situated in life. The journeyman will learn construction last and from his master. Under the plan I have +suggested, the other lad will learn the general principles of construction before he goes to the shipyard; at least he +will not have to commence with turning the grindstone. His first few visits will be confined to watching the men at +their work; then he will gradually make himself familiar with the use of the different tools.</p> + +<p>The journeyman will receive at first $1 a day; during the second year, $1.50 a day, and be gradually advanced until +he receives the regular wages, at the present time from $3 to $3.25 a day. It would not be advisable to make any +estimate of the profits of boat-building as a business, for, no matter what they are now, by the time my young reader +has started a shipyard, they may be entirely different, owing to the increase or decrease in the cost of material and +labor.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B" id="Footnote_B"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B"> +<span class="label">[B]</span></a> Copyright by G. J. Manson, 1884</p></div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illus738.png" width="800" height="128" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_701" id="Page_701">[Pg 701]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus740a.jpg" width="600" height="315" alt="This Little Pig Went to Market." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THIS LITTLE PIG WENT TO MARKET."</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<h2>WHAT IT WAS.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Malcolm Douglas.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Oh, they were as happy as happy could be,</span> + <span class="ind1">Those two little boys who were down by the sea,</span> + <span class="ind1">As each with a shovel grasped tight in his hand,</span> + <span class="ind1">Like a sturdy young laborer dug in the sand!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">And it finally happened, while looking around,</span> + <span class="ind1">That, beside a big shell, a small star-fish they found,—</span> + <span class="ind1">Such a wonderful sight, that two pairs of blue eyes</span> + <span class="ind1">Grew large for a moment with puzzled surprise.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Then—"I know," said one, with his face growing bright,</span> + <span class="ind1">"It's the dear little star that we've watched every night;</span> + <span class="ind1">But last night, when we looked, it was nowhere on high,</span> + <span class="ind1">So, of course, it has dropped from its home in the sky!"</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus740b.jpg" width="600" height="326" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_702" id="Page_702">[Pg 702]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CAPTAIN JACK'S FOURTH-OF-JULY KITE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Daniel C. Beard.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgright" style="width: 509px;"> +<img src="images/illus741a.jpg" width="509" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Well, if that isn't the queerest sight!" exclaimed a passenger on the cars going from Flushing to New York, last +Independence Day.</p> + +<p>And all the passengers on that train, and on all other trains during the day, echoed the same words. It was a very +strange occurrence.</p> + +<p>Away up in the blue sky, and all alone, like a new declaration of independence, fluttered that soul-stirring piece of +bunting, the stars and stripes. Not a sign of pole or support of any kind could the sharpest eye discern; and yet, as +steadily as if fixed on the dome of the national capitol, it waved its gay stripes in the joyous breeze. It was a very +mysterious flag.</p> + +<p>There was, however, one individual who was both able and willing to clear away the mystery—a certain jovial man +who, on the morning of that particular day, sat in exceedingly airy attire on the front porch of the boathouse of the +Nereus Boat Club. As his striped shirt, knee-breeches, and skull-cap indicated, Captain Jack Walker was an oarsman.</p> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 488px;"> +<img src="images/illus741b.jpg" width="488" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>He afterward explained to his faithful crew that he had gone to the boathouse early that morning, and while there had +been struck with a novel idea. The result of that idea was the mysterious flag which was waving over the salt marsh by +Flushing Bay, and was puzzling the brains of many good citizens.</p> + +<p>Fastened to the top of the flagpole of the club's boathouse was the end of a piece of hempen twine. By following that +piece of twine, which ran away into space at an angle of sixty degrees, the eye came at length to the floating flag. By +looking closely, moreover, one could gradually discern that from the flag the twine ran up five or six hundred feet +higher to a tiny kite—tiny, as seen away up there in the blue ether; but, in fact, a monster kite.</p> + +<p>Captain Jack had first sent up that great kite which some one had left at the boathouse, and had let it out five or +six hundred feet; then he took a flag about five feet long, which belonged to one of the boats, and fastened + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_703" id="Page_703">[Pg 703]</a></span> + +the upper end of its stick firmly to the kitestring. He next broke the lower end of the flagstick so as to leave a short +projection (<em>a</em>), just long enough for him to fasten a piece of twine to it.</p> + +<p>Then he again let the kite out, and also the string he had attached to the lower end of the flagstick. As soon as the +flagstick was vertical, the line <em>a</em>, <em>b</em> (<a href="#Page_702">see preceding page</a>) was knotted +securely to the kitestring at <em>b</em>. All that was necessary then was to let out about five hundred feet more twine, +and Captain Jack's Fourth-of-July kite was soon gayly flying. There was to be a regatta that afternoon, however, and the +gallant oarsman could not sit idly holding a kitestring in his hand. So he hauled down the boat club's flag, tied the +kitestring to the flag-halyards and then hoisted both flag and kitestring to the top of the flagpole; and so his +Fourth-of-July banner floated serenely in the sky all day long,—a beautiful sight, and an object of much surprise +and wonder to all who saw it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>IF.</h3> + +<div class="imgright" style="width: 554px;"> +<img src="images/illus742a.jpg" width="554" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">If I had a big kite,</span> + <span class="ind1">With a very short tail,</span> + <span class="ind1">And a very stout cord,—</span> + <span class="ind1">And there came a great gale,—</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">I'd hold fast to the string,</span> + <span class="ind1">And away we would fly,</span> + <span class="ind1">I and my kite,</span> + <span class="ind1">Up, up to the sky!</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus742b.jpg" width="600" height="259" alt="The biggest of birds without any wings. The oldest of +kingdoms without any kings." title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_704" id="Page_704">[Pg 704]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 589px;"> +<img src="images/illus743.jpg" width="589" height="800" alt="Tippie and Jimmie" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_705" id="Page_705">[Pg 705]</a></span></p> + +<h2>TIPPIE AND JIMMIE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Mary L. French.</span></h3> + +<p>Tippie and Jimmie had come over to play with Ajax. Tip's whole name is Tippecanoe. The boys call him a black and tan, +but Bessie calls him a darling. He has a little black shining nose that he is always sticking into everything, and a +little smooth, tapering tail that he is always wagging. Jimmie's name is James Stuart; he is a little Maltese kitten, +with gentle blue eyes, and soft fur that is always ready to be smoothed, and claws that are never used where they can +hurt, and a purr that is always wound up.</p> + +<p>Tippie and Jimmie live together, and eat together, and are the best of friends.</p> + +<p>Ajax is the kitten that lives next door. He is jet black, excepting a little white spot where his cravat should have +been tied. And he has a long black tail that often waves over his back like a banner. He has large green eyes that snap +and shine when he plays, and he has just begun to look for mice.</p> + +<p>One day Tippie and Jimmie came around to the kitchen door of the house where Ajax lived, and looked in.</p> + +<p>They could not see Ajax, so Jimmie began to climb up the screen door, sticking his claws into the holes. He had not +climbed far before the lady of the house saw him, and she said:</p> + +<p>"Here's Jimmie looking for Ajax. Come, Ajax, where are you?"</p> + +<p>Ajax was asleep on the lounge, but he jumped up and came running to the door, for he comes when he is called, +"quicker than any of the other children," Mamie says.</p> + +<p>He touched noses with Jimmie, and then he took his visitors around to the front porch. There, he and Jimmie leaped +upon a chair and shook their paws at Tippie, who was on the floor. Then Tippie got upon another chair, and Ajax ran +under it and reached up to play with him.</p> + +<p>It really seemed as if they knew how pretty they looked. After a while, they all three had a good race up and down, +over chairs, under chairs, and through chairs. Sometimes Ajax stood on the back of a chair and poked his paw at Tippie, +and sometimes he ran to the top of a high rocking-chair and jumped down to the porch railing. Jimmie was not so +venturesome, however.</p> + +<p>Soon they grew tired of such play, and then they rushed out-of-doors, and down upon the grass. There, Tippie began to +tease Jimmie. He pushed him over, and stepped upon him, and nosed him, and even bit him gently, till Jimmie suddenly +cried out, "Meow-ow-ow!"</p> + +<p>Ajax had been quietly looking on, with a shade of contempt on his handsome countenance; but when he heard that +appeal, he rushed at Tippie and pushed him away from Jimmie and scratched him, and chased him from one end of the yard +to the other, two or three times.</p> + +<p>When they stopped to rest after their run, Ajax settled himself comfortably on the grass, perfectly quiet, except for +the tip of his tail, which moved just a little. Tippie watched that tail with longing. He danced around and around Ajax. +He pranced forward and skipped back, and practiced all his dancing-steps, before he dared touch it. At last he boldly +rushed upon it, and a moment later Ajax held him fast around the neck, and with heads close together, and smothered +growls of happiness, the cat and the dog were rolling over and over. Then, they suddenly let go, and stood half a foot +apart, glaring at each other for a second, before they rushed together again, and went through the whole frolic once +more.</p> + +<p>Mamie and Herbert had seen it all while building ships, in the side yard, and as they watched the grand closing +scene, Herbert, in the tone of an oracle, announced,</p> + +<p>The Moral:</p> + +<p>"It is good to be good-natured, but bad to be imposed upon."</p> + +<hr /> + + +<h2>NUMBER ONE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Charles R. Talbot.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"I tell you," said Robbie, eating his peach,</span> + <span class="ind2">And giving his sister none,</span> + <span class="ind1">"I believe in the good old saying that each</span> + <span class="ind2">Should look out for Number One."</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Why, yes," answered Katie, wise little elf,</span> + <span class="ind2">"But the counting should be begun</span> + <span class="ind1">With the <em>other one</em> instead of yourself,—</span> + <span class="ind2">And <em>he</em> should be Number One."</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vol</span>. XIII.—45.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_706" id="Page_706">[Pg 706]</a></span></p> + +<h2>AMUSING THE BABY.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Eva Lovett Carson.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">A sudden tumult arose one day,</span> + <span class="ind2">In the nursery overhead.</span> + <span class="ind1">'T was like wild horses a-galloping there,</span> + <span class="ind2">Or a whole procession led.</span> + <span class="ind1">Nursie, with face of terror,</span> + <span class="ind2">Deserted her cup of tea,</span> + <span class="ind1">And rushed up the stair, in a state of despair,</span> + <span class="ind2">To see what the noise might be.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">She found in the room three Zulu chiefs</span> + <span class="ind2">Prancing across the floor.</span> + <span class="ind1">Their faces beamed, as they danced and screamed,</span> + <span class="ind2">And their arms waved more and more.</span> + <span class="ind1">In a corner sat Ted, the baby,</span> + <span class="ind2">Silent and pale with fright:</span> + <span class="ind1">"We're amusing the baby—Oh, Nurse, come and see!"</span> + <span class="ind2">Cried the Zulus in great delight.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Oh, horrors!" cried Nursie in anger,</span> + <span class="ind2">Rushing to poor little Ted.</span> + <span class="ind1">"To go on that way, such <em>ridic</em>-u-lous play!—</span> + <span class="ind2">'T will put the child out of his head!"</span> + <span class="ind2">—With expressions of injured goodness,</span> + <span class="ind2">Stood Dudley, and Gordon, and Fred,</span> + <span class="ind1">"Why, Nursie, how mean!—We should think you'd have seen,</span> + <span class="ind2">We're amusing the baby!" they said.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus748.jpg" width="500" height="357" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_707" id="Page_707">[Pg 707]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE BROWNIES IN THE MENAGERIE.</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Palmer Cox.</span></h3> + +<div class="imgright" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus749.jpg" width="400" height="391" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The Brownies heard the news with glee,</span> + <span class="ind1">That in a city near the sea</span> + <span class="ind1">A spacious building was designed</span> + <span class="ind1">For holding beasts of every kind.</span> + <span class="ind1">From polar snows, from desert sand,</span> + <span class="ind1">From mountain peak, and timbered land,</span> + <span class="ind1">The beasts with claw and beasts with hoof,</span> + <span class="ind1">All met beneath one slated roof.</span> + <span class="ind1">That night, like bees before the wind,</span> + <span class="ind1">With home in sight, and storm behind,</span> + <span class="ind1">The band of Brownies might be seen,</span> + <span class="ind1">All scudding from the forest green.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Less time it took the walls to scale</span> + <span class="ind1">Than is required to tell the tale.</span> + <span class="ind1">The art that makes the lock seem weak,</span> + <span class="ind1">The bolt to slide, the hinge to creak,</span> + <span class="ind1">Was theirs to use as heretofore,</span> + <span class="ind1">With good effect, on sash and door;</span> + <span class="ind1">And soon the band stood face to face</span> + <span class="ind1">With all the wonders of the place.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">To Brownies, as to children dear,</span> + <span class="ind1">The monkey seemed a creature queer;</span> + <span class="ind1">They watched its skill to climb and cling,</span> + <span class="ind1">By either toe or tail to swing;</span> + <span class="ind1">Perhaps they got some hints that might</span> + <span class="ind1">Come well in hand some future night,</span> + <span class="ind1">When climbing up a wall or tree,</span> + <span class="ind1">Or chimney, as the case might be.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Then off to other parts they'd range</span> + <span class="ind1">To gather 'round some creature strange;</span> + <span class="ind1">To watch the movements of the bear,</span> + <span class="ind1">Or at the spotted serpents stare.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">The mammoth turtle from its pen</span> + <span class="ind1">Was driven 'round and 'round again,</span> + <span class="ind1">And though the coach proved rather slow</span> + <span class="ind1">They kept it hours upon the go.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Said one, "Before your face and eyes</span> + <span class="ind1">I'll take that snake from where it lies,</span> + <span class="ind1">And like a Hindoo of the East,</span> + <span class="ind1">Benumb and charm the crawling beast,</span> + <span class="ind1">Then twist him 'round me on the spot</span> + <span class="ind1">And tie him in a sailor's knot."</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_708" id="Page_708">[Pg 708]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgright" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/illus750.jpg" width="351" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Another then was quick to shout,</span> + <span class="ind1">"We'll leave that snake performance out!</span> + <span class="ind1">I grant you all the power you claim</span> + <span class="ind1">To charm, to tie, to twist and tame;</span> + <span class="ind1">But let me still suggest you try</span> + <span class="ind1"> Your art when no one else is nigh.</span> + <span class="ind1"> Of all the beasts that creep or crawl</span> + <span class="ind1"> From Rupert's Land to China's wall,</span> + <span class="ind1"> In torrid, mild, or frigid zone,</span> + <span class="ind1">The snake is best to let alone."</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Against this counsel, seeming good,</span> + <span class="ind1">At least a score of others stood.</span> + <span class="ind1">Said one, "My friend, suppress alarm.</span> + <span class="ind1">There's nothing here to threaten harm.</span> + <span class="ind1">Be sure the power that mortals hold</span> + <span class="ind1">Is not denied the Brownies bold."</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">So from the nest, without ado,</span> + <span class="ind1">A bunch of serpents soon they drew.</span> + <span class="ind1">And harmlessly as silken bands</span> + <span class="ind1">The snakes were twisted in their hands.</span> + <span class="ind1">Some hauled them freely 'round the place;</span> + <span class="ind1">Some braided others in a trace;</span> + <span class="ind1">And every knot to sailors known,</span> + <span class="ind1">Was quickly tied, and quickly shown.</span> + <span class="ind1">Thus 'round from cage to cage they went,</span> + <span class="ind1">For some to smile, and some comment</span> + <span class="ind1">On Nature's way of dealing out</span> + <span class="ind1">To this a tail, to that a snout</span> + <span class="ind1">Of extra length, and then deny</span> + <span class="ind1">To something else a fair supply.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Around the sleeping lion long</span> + <span class="ind1">They stood an interested throng,</span> + <span class="ind1">Debating o'er its strength of limb,</span> + <span class="ind1">Its heavy mane or visage grim.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">But when the bear and tiger growled,</span> + <span class="ind1">And wolf and lynx in chorus howled,</span> + <span class="ind1">And starting from its broken sleep,</span> + <span class="ind1">The monarch rose with sudden leap,</span> + <span class="ind1">And, bounding round the rocking cage,</span> + <span class="ind1">With lifted mane, it roared with rage,</span> + <span class="ind1">And thrust its paws between the bars,</span> + <span class="ind1">Until it seemed to shake the stars,</span> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_709" id="Page_709">[Pg 709]</a></span></p> + + <span class="ind1">A panic seized the Brownies all,</span> + <span class="ind1">And out they scampered from the hall,</span> + <span class="ind1">As if they feared incautious men</span> + <span class="ind1">Had built too frail a prison pen;</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">And though the way was long and wild,</span> + <span class="ind1">With obstacles before them piled,</span> + <span class="ind1">They never halted in their run</span> + <span class="ind1">Until the forest shade they won.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 477px;"> +<img src="images/illus751.jpg" width="477" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_710" id="Page_710">[Pg 710]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A LETTER FROM A LITTLE BOY.</h2> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 470px;"> +<img src="images/illus752.jpg" width="470" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I want to tell little boys and girls about my two pets. One is a hen. +She lives all alone, and leaves her coop every night, and goes in the barn, and flies up on old Jim's back, and sleeps +there all night. Old Jim is a horse. Old Jim has a blanket for cold nights. It is an old + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_711" id="Page_711">[Pg 711]</a></span> + +one, and there is a hole in it on the top, and the old hen walks all around till +she finds that hole, and puts her feet in there where it is warm, and there we +find her every morning.</p> + +<p>My other funny pet is an old cat, named Catharine. She has only three +feet, but I liked her just as well as I ever did, till last summer, when one morning +we found the bird-cage door pushed in, and the bird was gone. We +have another cat. We don't know but the bird flew away; but who pushed +the door in? I don't like any cats so well now. Your friend,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1 smcap">Ralph</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus753a.jpg" width="400" height="214" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span></p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">A sadder tale I never heard!</span> + <span class="ind1">Just think of that poor little bird!</span> + <span class="ind1">Ralph's bird was killed,—I say so, flat,—</span> + <span class="ind1">By that three-footed sly old cat!</span> + <span class="ind1">Now, I'm a gentlemanly pup,</span> + <span class="ind1">And I say cats should be locked up.</span> + <span class="ind1">For every time I walk the street,</span> + <span class="ind1">A crowd of cats I'm sure to meet.</span> + <span class="ind1">They rumple up my smooth, clean coat,</span> + <span class="ind1">They spoil my collar, scratch my throat,</span> + <span class="ind1">They rush and push, and tease and whirl,</span> + <span class="ind1">And pull my ears all out of curl.—</span> + <span class="ind1">There's nothing on four legs as rude</span> + <span class="ind1">As cats and kittens are.</span> + <span class="ind3">Yours,</span> + <span class="ind5 smcap">Dude.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 504px;"> +<img src="images/illus753b.jpg" width="504" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_712" id="Page_712">[Pg 712]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 523px;"> +<img src="images/illus754.jpg" width="523" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.</h2> + +<p class="smcap">Dear Jack-in-the-Pulpit:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">If I drum in the house,</span> + <span class="ind1">"Oh, what a noise you make!"</span> + <span class="ind1">Sighs Mamma. "Baby'll wake!"</span> + <span class="ind3">If in the garden green</span> + <span class="ind3">I drum, our Bridget cries:</span> + <span class="ind3">"Ye'll mak' me spile the pies</span> + <span class="ind3">And cakes! I can not think!</span> + <span class="ind3">That droom destroys me wit!</span> + <span class="ind3">Be off, me b'y,—or quit!"</span> + <span class="ind1">If I drum in the street,</span> + <span class="ind1">Out comes Miss Peters, quick,</span> + <span class="ind1">And says her ma is sick;</span> + <span class="ind1">Or Doctor Daniel Brown</span> + <span class="ind1">Calls from his window: "Bub,</span> + <span class="ind1">That dreadful rub-a-dub</span> + <span class="ind1">Confuses my ideas.</span> + <span class="ind1">My sermon is not done.</span> + <span class="ind1">Run on, my little son!"</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3">The creeps crawl up my back</span> + <span class="ind3">When I am still, and oh,</span> + <span class="ind3">Nobody seems to know</span> + <span class="ind3">How very tired I get</span> + <span class="ind3">Without some sort of noise,</span> + <span class="ind3">Such as a boy enjoys!</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Last summer, on the farm,</span> + <span class="ind1">I used to jump and shout,</span> + <span class="ind1">For Grandpa Osterhout</span> + <span class="ind1">And Grandma both are deaf.</span> + <span class="ind1">But soon some neighbors came</span> + <span class="ind1">And said it was a shame,</span> + <span class="ind1">The way I scared them all.</span> + <span class="ind1">They called my shouts "wild yells,"</span> + <span class="ind1">And asked if I had "spells"</span> + <span class="ind1">Or "fits, or anything."</span> + <span class="ind3">You see, grown people all</span> + <span class="ind3">Forget they once were small.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3">Now, isn't there one place</span> + <span class="ind3">Where "wriggley" tired boys</span> + <span class="ind3">Can make a stunning noise</span> + <span class="ind3">And play wild Injun-chief,</span> + <span class="ind3">And Independence-day,</span> + <span class="ind3">And not be sent away?</span> + <span class="ind1">Or was that place left out?</span> + <span class="ind2">Dear Jack, please tell me true;</span> + <span class="ind2">I've confidence in you.</span> + <span class="ind4">Your friend without end,</span> + <span class="ind5 smcap">Tommy.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<p>This is a very touching epistle, my hearers, and Tommy has my hearty sympathy. There must be such a place as he is +looking for, though the Deacon says that in the course of a long life he has never happened upon the exact locality. +According to the Little School-ma'am, too, it is not described in any of the geographies; but she says that, for the +sake of all concerned, it is very desirable that the missing paradise of little drummer boys should be +discovered;—to which the Deacon adds, "Perhaps that's why the grown folk wish to find the North Pole."</p> + +<p>While we are upon this subject, here is a letter describing some tiny drummers that make almost as much noise as +patriotic youngsters, and do quite as much mischief. To his credit, however, it must be said that this other small +musician only makes his appearance as a drummer once in seventeen years. Is he bent on setting an example, I wonder? He +is called</p> + +<h2>THE SEVENTEEN-YEAR LOCUST.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Jack:</span> The seventeen-year locust isn't a locust at all. This may seem a strange thing +to say, but it is true, nevertheless. The locust looks very much like a grasshopper, while the seventeen-year cicada, +which is the insect's proper name, looks a great deal more like a gigantic fly than anything else.</p> + +<p>There is a cicada which comes every year, and is also wrongly called a locust. Anybody who has been in the country +about harvest-time has heard the shrill noise made by this cicada and probably has come upon his cast-off shell sticking +to a fence-rail or a tree-trunk.</p> + +<p>The seventeen-year cicada is a cousin of the one-year chap; though, as he comes only once in every seventeen years, +he is probably only a far-away cousin. Fancy spending the best part of your life prowling about in the darkness +underground and then coming up into the sunlight with a gorgeous pair of wings, only to die in a short time!</p> + +<p>That is what the seventeen-year cicada does. In the very first place, it is an egg which its mother deposits in a +tiny hole in a twig. In a few weeks it makes its way out of the egg and drops to the ground, into which it burrows, and +in which it remains for nearly seventeen years before it is prepared for life above ground.</p> + +<p>When, at last, it is ready for the bright sunlight, it may be one foot from the surface or it may be ten feet deep in +the ground. In either case it begins to dig upward until it finds its way out, when it climbs up the nearest tree and +fastens itself by its sharp claws to a leaf or twig. There it waits until its back splits open, and behold! it +immediately crawls out of itself, so to speak.</p> + +<p>The new insect is a soft, dull fellow at first, but he grows as if he had been storing up energy for seventeen years +for just that one purpose. Within an hour, two pairs of most beautiful wings have grown, and in a few hours more it has +become hard and active.</p> + +<div class="imgleft" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus756a.jpg" width="400" height="263" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The female cicadas are quiet enough, but the males are as noisy as so many little boys with new drums. Indeed, they +do have drums themselves. Just under their wings are drums made of shiny membrane as beautiful as white silk, and these +are kept rattling almost all the time.</p> + +<p>One cicada can make noise enough; but imagine the din of +millions of them all going at the same time. It sounds as if all the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_713" id="Page_713">[Pg 713]</a></span> + +frogs in the country had come together to try to drown the noise of +a saw-mill. Now it is the saw-mill you hear, and now the frogs.</p> + +<p>It sounds like a big story to say millions, but if you could go into the woods where they are, you might be willing +to say billions. I have counted over a thousand cast-off shells on one small tree, and on one birch leaf I have seen +twelve shells. And the earth in some places is like a sieve from the holes made by the cicadas as they came out.</p> + +<p>But within a few weeks from the insects' first appearance their eggs have been laid and the cicadas have all died. A +great many of them are eaten by the birds and chickens, but most of them simply can not live any longer.</p> + +<p>Yours truly,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + <p class="smcap">John R. Coryell</p> +</div> + + +<h2>"THE GREAT LUBBER LOCUST."</h2> + +<div class="imgright" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illus756c.jpg" width="400" height="212" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>As it appears from Mr. Coryell's letter that the seventeen-year cicada is only an imitation locust, I shall give you +a portrait of another member of the family who is, perhaps, more nearly related to the insect he is named after. At all +events, he is certainly more like a grasshopper than is the seventeen-year cicada. The grasshopper that lives in this +part of the world is a fine fellow to hop, as you know, but he always lights on his feet, and looks as composed and as +much at his ease as if he had walked to the spot in the most dignified manner.</p> + +<p>Well, now look at this picture! See one absurd fellow lying on his back and pawing the air with all his long legs, +and another, like a circus clown, standing on his own foolish green head. Would you think these awkward and ridiculous +creatures bore any relationship to the grave little hoppers who gently alight on your clothes as you run through the +grass, stop a moment to stare at you with their great goggle eyes, and then take leave without saying +"good-morning"?</p> + +<p>He is no less than a cousin, I assure you, from the Far West, the great plains where few beasts, birds, or insects +can find enough to live upon. This fellow does not suffer for food; he is the biggest of his family in America, and his +curious performances have brought him several names. By some people he is called "the clumsy grasshopper," and by others +he is dubbed "the great lubber locust," while by the scientific men, as usual, he has been given a long Latin name. Of +course, you will be so eager to know it that you will wish to find it out for yourselves!</p> + + +<h2>THE DOG AND THE QUEER GRASSHOPPERS.</h2> + +<p>By the way, a story is told of a dog that was fond of snapping up grasshoppers, and eating them. In one of his +journeys with his master, he chanced to fall among those queer grasshoppers—the lubber locusts. As he ran along +through the grass, his feet started up hundreds of the clumsy fellows, and, in trying to jump out of his way, they came +down in groups upon him, as you see in the picture. Some stood on their heads upon his back; others turned somersaults +over his ears, and a few struck him full in the face. Besides being impertinent they were very large, each two or three +times the size and weight of one of our modest little hoppers. So poor Tom was first annoyed, and then scared. One or +two, or even half a dozen, he could eat up or drive away, but a hundred were too many, and at last Tom dropped his head +and tail and ran for his life, while his master scolded, and his master's friend laughed at the droll sight of a big dog +running away from grasshoppers.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus756b.jpg" width="400" height="232" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_714" id="Page_714">[Pg 714]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE LETTER-BOX.</h2> + +<p class="center">Contributors are respectfully informed that, between the 1st of June and the 15th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently be examined at the office of <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>. Consequently, those who desire to favor the magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.</p> + +<p>If C. F. H. will send us her address, we shall gladly forward to her a number of letters sent us by readers of <span +class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, in answer to her query.</p> + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">La Crescent.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> While reading in the November number of <span class="smcap">St. +Nicholas</span> about "Our Joe," I thought some of the <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> readers would be +interested in hearing about <em>our</em> Joe. <em>Our</em> Joe is a Broncho pony that belonged to Rain-in-the-face, a +chief in one of Sitting Bull's bands. When the ponies were taken and driven down in a drove, Our Joe got loose from the +others and was caught somewhere near here. His name was Joe, but when Papa brought him home and we saw how little he +was, we called him Little Joe, and when we rode him he went so easy we named him Little Joe Dandy.</p> + +<p>We have a little red cart we call the dump, to drive him in. He is such a funny little fellow that everybody has to +take a second look at him. I am five feet tall, and his shoulders are not quite as high as mine; his hair in winter is +as thick and long as a buffalo's; his tail touches the ground, and his mane hangs far down on his shoulders, and is +always stuck full of burrs in summer. His color is iron-gray, if it's anything, but it's hard to tell what color he is. +I had my picture taken on horseback, and he looks as if he was about ready to fall asleep, but he has life in him if he +takes a notion to go! He is mean to the boys. He picked my brother up by the shoulder and shook him, and one day he +kicked Papa.</p> + +<p>There was a pair of them—Our Joe and a Little Buckskin. The Buckskin would bunt his head against Joe, as a +signal to go, and then they would make things fly! Every one who knew the pony before we got him says he was so ugly, it +was dangerous to go around him; but he is the kindest little fellow to us. If I go out in the pasture where he is, he +will follow me everywhere I go. We think the world of him. Hoping my letter is not too long, I remain,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">our constant reader,</span> + <span class="ind3">H.C.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chicago.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I live in Chicago, where the boys play marbles almost all the time in +the spring. I am a fairly good player. I have six hundred and four. I hope the boys who read <span class="smcap">St. +Nicholas</span> will try to get as many marbles.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Yours truly,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Cheshire S.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">City of Mexico.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I am a little girl seven years old, and live alone with my father, who +is a Baptist missionary. I have a mother, and little brother, and two sisters, living in the States.</p> + +<p>I have learned to spell the names of three places that I can see from our roof. They are Chapultepec, and +Popocatepetl, and Ixiaccihuatl.</p> + +<p>There are lots of strange things here. We never slide downhill here, because there is no snow. I like <span +class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, especially the "Brownies."</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Edwina S.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">B——a, N. J.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> In looking over our old <span class="smcap">St. Nicholases</span> we +found, in the January number for 1882, a piece entitled, "Puppets and Puppet Shows," and as it struck our fancy, we +agreed to try it. After several attempts, we succeeded in obtaining very good figures. With a little ingenuity and the +plans of three busy brains, we arranged an excellent screen and scenery; then, with two of us to work and one to read, +the puppets were set in motion. Our audience, though not large, was an appreciative one, and the show was a grand +success. The puppets were carefully placed in a box, and will be kept for another entertainment.</p> + +<p>Last summer we girls made a twine house in our orchard. A couple of cows strayed in one afternoon and ran through the +house, and the chickens dug up a number of the morning-glories; but, in spite of these obstacles, a great many happy +hours were spent in the house.</p> + +<p>We wait impatiently from one month to another for your pleasant magazine, and we remain,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Your interested readers,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Puss-in-boots</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Carabas</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Corsando</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Camilla van Kleeck:</span> The article you wish is entitled "Lady Bertha," and was printed in +<span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> for December, 1880.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Easton, Mass.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> This is the first year I have ever taken you and the first year I have +ever lived on a farm. I enjoy reading your stories and enjoy living on a farm. When I lived in the city I could not have +as many pets as I can out here. Neither should I have had you. You are sent us through the kindness of a Mr. Ames, to +whom I should like to extend my thanks through your columns. I also wish to thank you for making your pages so +interesting to us boys and girls.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Yours truly,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">W. S. B.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">St. Louis.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I have taken the <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> for three +years, and I like it very much. I take it for my little sister now, but always read it first myself, and enjoy it very +much, and so does my little sister. I send it to her by mail after I am through with it.</p> + +<p>I have been making my own living for five years, and I do not get much time to read. I almost always read the <span +class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> going and coming from work, as I have to take the street-car.</p> + +<p>Seven years ago, I came from Sweden and could not speak a word of English, but now everybody takes me for an +American.</p> + +<p>There is some splendid coasting and skating in Sweden, but I do not think the young people here would enjoy going to +boarding-school there; at least, not the one I went to. They are very strict. For instance, once when I did not know my +lesson, I had to stay up until 12 o'clock that night and study it by moonlight, without having had a bit of supper; and +the next morning, instead of my breakfast, I had to stand in the center of the dining-room and watch the others eat. I +intend to write a story when I get older, and relate my experience there.</p> + +<p>I should feel very proud if you would print this letter, as it is the first one I have written to you.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Yours truly,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Jo</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">May Bridges</span>: The address which you desire is "The Art Interchange, 37 West 22d street, New +York City, N. Y."</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">McGregor, Iowa.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I live about a mile from the "Great Father of Waters." I can not see +the river from my home, but as I go to school in McGregor I can see it every day.</p> + +<p>McGregor is a small town of about 2000 inhabitants. It is nestled in among the hills, and some people think it a very +pretty place; indeed, some think it ought to be a summer resort.</p> + +<p>About a mile and a half from here is the highest bluff on the Mississippi, called Pike's Peak. I suppose it is named +after the famous Pike's Peak in Colorado. From it there is a very lovely view. We can see the mouth of the Wisconsin +River, the State of Wisconsin, and a great distance up and down the Mississippi. The river is full of islands near +here.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Believe me your loving reader,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Bessie B. L.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p>L. M.: You can obtain the information you wish, by referring to article "Iamblichus" in Smith's Dictionary of Greek +and Roman Biography and Mythology.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fredericksburg, Va.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> This is the second year we have taken you; at least, the second year +since I can remember. We took you some years ago, and then stopped, and started again two years ago. When Papa told us +each to vote for which paper we wanted last year, I think we all voted for you, and take you again this year. I look +forward to your coming with delight. I must confess I am selfish about it, for I always try to get you first.</p> + +<p>This is a quiet old town, with beautiful scenery all around it. There are no mountains, but it lies between two high +hills, in a little valley. Washington used to live here, and his house is only a square from ours. Mary Washington's +monument is quite near, and we often go there. I have often climbed the heights where the battle of Fredericksburg was +fought. It overlooks the quiet little town, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_715" id="Page_715">[Pg 715]</a></span> + +peacefully slumbering, and it is hard to realize that once the shells and balls were flying across it from hill to hill. +I have lived most of my life here, and I think it the nicest place in the world. I fear I have tired you with my long +letter. So now, good-bye, dear old <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>. I look forward already to your next coming. +I remain, your devoted reader,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Carrie B.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fort Sill, I. T.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I have a brother who is nearly seventeen years old. He had the first +number of <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, and we have taken it most of the time ever since. I have a year's +subscription for my birthday. I am always glad when the time comes for you.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Your reader,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Sarah B. H.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">North Leominster, Mass.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I am a little girl eleven years old, and take your magazine. I am +deeply interested in "Little Lord Fauntleroy" and "George Washington," and hope they will be continued for a long time. +I have a number of pets; among them are nine cats, which I like better than all the others. One is very large; he weighs +eleven and a half pounds. He stays in the house 'most all the time. His name is Toddlekins, and he goes to bed with my +brother every night. We live on a farm, and keep five horses. In summer we go to ride almost every day. I have a pair of +wooden horses, which I will describe to you, as it may interest some of your little readers. You take a keg and bore +four holes in the side of it, and then take short round handles and put four of them into the holes. Then take two +shingles and drive them into one end of the keg (for a neck); then take another shingle and cut to the shape of a +horse's head, and put it between the two shingles that have been driven on to the top of the keg; then put a feather +duster in the other end, and you have a horse complete; when done, they are comical-looking enough. I like to read the +letters in the Letter-box. I hope you will print my letter, as I have not written one before.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Your interested reader,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">M. C. B.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Our Presidents.<br />By G. Macloskee.</span><br /><em>A help for memorizing United States History.</em></p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1"><span class="smcap">Father Washington</span> left us united and free,</span> + <span class="ind1">And John Adams repelled French aggression at sea;</span> + <span class="ind1">Boundless Louisiana was Jefferson's crown,</span> + <span class="ind1">And when Madison's war-ships won lasting renown,</span> + <span class="ind1">And the steam-boat was launched, then Monroe gave the world</span> + <span class="ind1">His new doctrine; and Quincy his banner unfurled</span> + <span class="ind1">For protection. Then Jackson, with railways and spoils,</span> + <span class="ind1">Left Van Buren huge bankruptcies, panics, and broils.</span> + <span class="ind1">Losing Harrison, Tyler by telegraph spoke;</span> + <span class="ind1">And the Mexican war brought accessions to Polk.</span> + <span class="ind1">Taylor lived not to wear the reward of ambition,</span> + <span class="ind1">And Fillmore's sad slave-law stirred up abolition;</span> + <span class="ind1">So, compromise failing, Pierce witnessed the throes</span> + <span class="ind1">Of the trouble in Kansas. Secession arose</span> + <span class="ind1">Through the halting Buchanan. But Lincoln was sent</span> + <span class="ind1">To extinguish rebellion. Then some years were spent</span> + <span class="ind1">Reconstructing by Johnson. Grant lessened our debt;</span> + <span class="ind1">Hayes resumed specie-payments; and Garfield was set</span> + <span class="ind1">On Reform, which, as Arthur soon found, came to stay.</span> + <span class="ind1">Now for President Cleveland good citizens pray.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Greenville, S. C.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My Dear St. Nicholas</span> I have been a subscriber to your charming magazine for over three +years, and have never yet read a letter dated Greenville, S. C., so thought I would write to you from that place. +Greenville is a city in the upper part of South Carolina. It is divided into two parts by a small river which runs +through it, and on which are several cotton-mills. It is about thirty miles from Cæsar's Head, a mountain said to +bear a striking resemblance to a profile view of the human face. It used to be a stopping-point for travelers on their +way to Greenville. During the very severe weather last winter, we thought that our town, instead of being called +Greenville, should be named after some snowy berg of Greenland.</p> + +<p>It seems to be the custom of your correspondents to give their ages and a minute description of their occupation, so +I will follow. I am fourteen years old, and have never been to school a day in my life, my mother having always taught +me at home until this year, when I have a tutor for Algebra and Latin. I continue the study of French with my mother, +using Fasquelle's Grammar and reading a pretty story called "Le Petit Robinson de Paris," besides having lessons in +English composition, geography, history, declamation, music, and drawing.</p> + +<p>I am a lineal descendant, being a great-great-granddaughter, of "The Martyr of the Revolution," as he is sometimes +called, Colonel Isaac Hayne, who was hanged by the British, and of whose execution at Charlestown a very interesting +account is given by Ramsay, in his "History of South Carolina." My grandmother had a lock of Colonel Hayne's hair. It +was a beautiful chestnut color, and had a slight wave through it. I am also a cousin of the poet, Paul Hayne.</p> + +<p>I like all the stories in <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, but my favorite is "Little Lord Fauntleroy," who +seems to be a second Paul Dombey, with his quaint, old-fashioned sayings. I hope he will not die shut up in the gloomy +castle, with his cross old grandfather, away from the companionship of "Dearest."</p> + +<p>With best wishes for the welfare of your delightful magazine, I remain,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Your devoted reader,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Marguerite H.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Two Toads.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1"><span class="smcap">Two toads</span> went out to take a walk,</span> + <span class="ind1">And being old friends they had a long talk.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Said one to the other, "A leaf I see.</span> + <span class="ind1">Will you be so kind as to bring it to me?"</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Of course!" said the other. "Let's build us a house,</span> + <span class="ind1">And have for a pony a little gray mouse."</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">"Yes," said the other, "and a carriage too,</span> + <span class="ind1">Of a nice red tulip, which I'll bring to you."</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">They built them the carriage and harnessed the mouse,</span> + <span class="ind1">And drove to the mill-pond to build them a house.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">They built them a house very near to the mill,</span> + <span class="ind1">And if they're not dead, they are living there still.</span> + <span class="ind3"><span class="smcap">Mabel Wilder</span> (9 years old).</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p>We print this little letter just as it came to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Escanaba, Mich.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I like you very much. since we have been taking you we got some ginney +pigs they are quite cute.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3"><span class="smcap">Genie A. Longley</span> (aged eight).</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p>A young friend sends us this drawing, which he calls:</p> + +<p class="smcap">A Fourth of July Tragedy.</p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px; display:block"> +<img src="images/illus761.jpg" width="400" height="361" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">South Front St., Harrisburg, Pa.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Editor St. Nicholas:</span> I thought that perhaps the following-description of a sort of +kaleidoscope would be of service to your magazine, for the entertainment of your young readers, on a rainy evening:</p> + +<p>Have the room brilliantly lighted, then raise the lid of a square + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_716" id="Page_716">[Pg 716]</a></span> + +piano just as if for a player, but, instead of resting it on the surface of the piano itself, let it rest upon two or +three large books placed on the top of the piano, so as to form at the front, where the hinges are, an angle of sixty +degrees. Cover the open side of the triangle thus formed with a thick cover, which should extend also over the crack +caused by the hinges of the lid. Thus you will have a hollow, triangular prism, the length of the piano, open at both +ends. Polish well with a silk duster the inside of one end of this triangular prism; hold pieces of crazy patchwork, or +long pieces of silk ribbon,—the more variegated and brilliant the colors the better,—in a large hanging +bunch, and shake gently about two inches in front of the polished end toward the angle of the front, while the spectator +looks through the opposite end of the kaleidoscope. A watch, chain, or looking-glass among the ribbons makes a pleasing +variety.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Yours very respectfully,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Mary J. Knox.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>P. S. The lid on the top of an upright piano may also form a kaleidoscope in the same way, but smaller.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Philadelphia, Penn.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear St. Nicholas:</span> I am one of the many little folk who have listened to readings from +your pages all my life. I am too small to write you a letter all myself, so Mamma will write it, for I wish to tell you +about our salt crystals. You remember you told us how to make them, in your number for July, 1884. Mamma and I each +started one, and every one thinks they are great curiosities. Papa photographed them so that you could see them also. +The large one belongs to Mamma, and the small one is mine; they are about five months old. We have ceased adding salt +and water, and have them under a glass shade, one resting on the other, and they make a very pretty ornament. Every time +we stop to admire them we smack our lips and think how well-seasoned the <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> always +is.</p> + +<p>We receive our <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> on the 25th of each month, and, dear Editor, you may always +know that on that night there is a little hand resting under a pillow, holding tightly your enjoyable book waiting for +the morn to dawn.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Lovingly yours,</span> + <span class="ind3 smcap">Harold H. T.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus762.jpg" width="400" height="309" alt="The Salt Tumblers." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE SALT TUMBLERS.</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p>We thank the young friends whose names here follow for pleasant letters received from them: J. G. F., Bettie M. K., +Gussie and Nannie M., Edith Norris, Harold K. Palmer, J. E. P., Eleanor D. Olney, Daisy B. Holladay, Nan E. Parrott, +Elizabeth P., May E. Waldo, Alma and Estelle, Irene B. D., H. Olina Herring, Carrie L. Walker, Hattie Homer, Florence +Halsted, Fay and Fan, Clara E. Longworth, May M. Boyd, Annie G. Barnard, Katie E. G., Alice Butterfield, Mabel P., E. +C., James H. Saycock, E. Converse, Abe M. B., P. C. Brittain, L. H. E., May M. Boyd, Marie Clark, Morris Miner, Jo and +Flo Overstreet, Roy C. Chambers, May Barton, Bessie Heath, Lawrence E. Horton, Charles R. Van Horn, Albertie G. Russell, +S. M. K., Henry H. Townshend, Edith S. C., Blanche Sloat, Sadie Nichols, Jesse L. Pusey, Bessie Lenhart, John N. Force, +Madge C. DeW., E. A. Burnham, "Sammy," A. G. K., Fannie B. S., Emily T. H., John R. P., Jr., Tommy Bangs, Florence, +Julia McC., Brenda, Harry M. M., Gertie E. Kendall, H. E. H., A. K. E., Anna E. Roelker, M. H. N., "Katie," Etta A. +Harper, May S., Tillie Lutz, W. P. Haslett, Charles L., Charlie P. Storrs, Maurice S. S., May, Freddie M., Florence M. +Wilcox, Ida R. G., Louis R. E., Bertha, Muriel C. Gere, Ralph M. Fletcher, Bertha B., Ella O., C. H. Pease, Alice W. +Brown, Clara L., Arthur F. Hudson, Katie, Thomas H. King, Jr., Mary L. Mayo, O. P., Carrie L. Moulthrop, Alice Dickey, +M. Eva T., Daisy W., Marie G. Hinkley, Agatha Montie Duncan, Agnes S. Barker, Samuel S. Watson, Madaleine C. Selby, +Hattie A. Taber, Cecelia R. G., Belle Sudduth, Johnnie E. Shaw, Inez B. Fletcher, Eva, Ferrars J., C. P, Hermann Thomas, +Annie and Margaret, Edmonia Powers, Alice M. B., D. and A., Anna A. H., Lizzie Kellogg, Louis J. Hall, Charles H. +Webster, C. L. Wright, Jr., Merrick R. Baldwin, Eleanor Hobson, Lottie A. D., John Moore, Harold Smith, C. W. F., L. +Hazeltine, A. C. Crosby, Mabel L., May J., Grace Plummer, Alice Dodge, Bessie K. S., Ella Bisell, Irma St. John, Irene +Lasier, F. L. Waldo, Ruth Morse, Maude G. Barnum, Bertha M. Crane, Aggie Drain, Roy Gray Bevan, John W. Wainwright, +Edith, Ella L. Bridges, Bessie Rhodes, Floy G., C. A. G., L. O. C., Mary S. Collar, Pearl Reynolds, Evelyn Auerbach, +Mabel E. D., Grace Fleming, Eddie Persinger, Charlie B., Lillie Story, Maude B., Mary M. Steele, Doris Hay, Gussie +Moley, Ethel W. F., Arthur, Mary Springer, Marion M. Tooker, Mary F. K., Lizzie E. Crowell, Josie W. Pennypacker, Bertie +Barse, Nellie B., J. W. L., Maude Cullen, Daisy C. Baker, Esther S. Barnard, Blanche M. C., Aurelia M. Snider, Howard E. +T., Bacon, Hildegarde G., Kittie L. Norris, Nellie L. Howes, Leverette Early, Virginia Beall, Henry W. Bellows, Bissell +Currie, Violet Quinn, Mamie Sage, Belle C. Hill, Alvah and Arden Rockwood, Lillian Miln, Adele Yates, Lillie S. E., +Ollie C., Maggie Wispert.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_717" id="Page_717">[Pg 717]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illus763.jpg" width="800" height="251" alt="The Agassiz Association. Sixty-Third Report." title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="smcap">A Course of Observations on Trees.</p> + +<p>The United States Government, through the Forestry Division of the Agricultural Department, solicits the assistance +of volunteer observers belonging to the Agassiz Association. The chief of the Division of Forestry, in consultation with +the President of the A. A., is preparing a special "schedule of phenological observations" for the A. A. This is a very +simple series of questions, in spite of its long name. One object of this series of observations is to determine the +effect of climate upon the growth of plants. Among the facts to be noted are the dates of the appearance of first leaf, +first flower, and first fruit. Nothing is required that can not be accurately and easily done by an intelligent boy or +girl of twelve years of age. It is earnestly desired by the Department that as many as possible of our members undertake +this work, in the interest of science, and for the practical results of the information sought.</p> + +<p>All who are willing to try, will kindly send their addresses, at once, to "The Chief of the Division of Forestry, +Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C."</p> + +<p>The complete schedule of observations desired will then be sent to them, and they can begin at once.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">The Iowa Convention.</p> + +<p>The following programme has been prepared for our next General +Convention to be held at Davenport, Iowa,in August:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, August 25:—9 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> Reception of the National +delegates, and visit to the Academy of Sciences.—2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Opening of Convention, 1. +Prayer. 2. Address of welcome by Senator James Wilson of Iowa. 3. Response by the President of the A. A. 4. Reading of +papers.—7 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Reception and banquet, with toasts and responses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, August 26:—9 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> 1. Question Box. 2. Visit to +the Government Island.—2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> 1. Working Session. 2. Address by the President of the A. +A.—7 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Lecture, by Prof. T. H. McBride, of the Iowa State University.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Friday</span>, August 27:—Steam-boat excursion down the Mississippi.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Prof. Crosby's Class in Mineralogy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boston, Mass.</span></p> + +<p>The class now includes 122 <em>bona fide</em> correspondents. The great majority have very greatly and agreeably +surprised me by the excellence of their work. I have been especially delighted by the success of the chemical +experiments. I was in doubt at first as to the propriety of introducing these; but I should never hesitate again. The +success of the class is so much beyond my expectations that I am fully reconciled to the time and labor it has cost +me.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind3 smcap">W. O. Crosby.</span> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Honorable Mention.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Paul L. Smith</span>, President of Chapter 653, of La Porte, Ind., goes fifty-nine miles, on +the first Saturday of every month, to preside at the meetings of his Chapter. And yet some doubt whether Natural History +can awaken the interest of the young!</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">The A. A. by the Sea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Florence May Lyon</span> and two associate teachers of the Detroit High School, members of +Chapter 743, are making arrangements to take a bevy of a dozen or twenty young ladies for a summer vacation of six +weeks, to the charming town of Annisquam, Mass. They propose to teach them in as "unbookish and delightful a way as +possible about sea-side plants and animals." These ladies have had abundant experience, and we wish them the greatest +success.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Birds' Eggs.</p> + +<p>The destruction of the singing birds of America is a growing and a very serious evil. Many ladies wear on their +bonnets enough birds to flood a grove with melody—if only the birds were not dead and in pieces.</p> + +<p>We may make an appeal on this subject to the girls and women of the A. A., at a later date, but just now it is a +question of robbing birds' nests. This association strictly maintains the scientific ground that when birds' eggs are +actually <em>needed</em> by a young naturalist, as a means of identification or of practical knowledge, it is +justifiable to take them, when the law allows. But the collection of eggs as curiosities, and the wholesale robbery of +nests for purposes of sale or exchange, is a wanton destruction wholly unworthy of any earnest student of nature.</p> + +<p>In view of the impossibility of discriminating between the two classes of collectors, we shall hereafter decline to +publish in <span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span>, any requests for the sale, purchase, or exchange of the eggs of +singing or game birds.</p> + +<p><em>We shall notice, as formerly, eggs of the Penguin, eagle, crow, and ostrich.</em></p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Delayed Chapter Reports.</p> + +<p>60, <em>Pigeon Cove, Mass.</em> We have not lost a member from our books since you first enrolled us, and although at +present we are all so occupied by our daily work that we can not hold regular meetings, we all look forward to the time +when we shall be able to begin again.—Charles H. Andrews.</p> + +<p>150, <em>Flushing, L. I.</em> Our Chapter has not been very active during the past year, but I hope in the near +future to build up a lively Chapter. Father and Mother will help me.—Frances M. L. Heaton, Sec.</p> + +<p>189, <em>W. Medford, Mass.</em> The Chapter is still in existence, and is holding meetings every week.—Daisy G. +Dame, Sec.</p> + +<p>257, <em>Plantsville, Conn.</em> We have been very successful; meetings full of interest and well attended. Our last +paper on "Crystals" was by E. N. Walkley, who illustrated the subject by plaster casts. We have a good male quartet in +our Chapter; also gentlemen who play on the violin, flute, piano, and 'cello, so we can have a good time if we want it, +at any meeting.</p> + +<p>We have just papered, painted, and whitewashed our room, and intend to give an entertainment to procure funds to buy +a new carpet (<em>Bravo!</em>)—Albert L. Ely, Pres.</p> + +<p>287, <em>Ottawa, Ill.</em> Our members are scattered, some in college, most of the others going soon; but we do not +wish to be counted out of that society from which we have received so much pleasure and profit.—Edgar Eldredge, +Sec.</p> + +<p>331, <em>New Orleans, La.</em> This Chapter has passed through severe trials, being sustained at one time by only two +earnest members, but it is now triumphantly successful. It is unique in that it has for its president a gentleman, Mr. +P. M. Hoit, who lives in Santa Barbara, California, more than fifteen hundred miles away from the Chapter. He sends +plans of work, rules of order, by-laws, etc., and really governs the Chapter, with which he first became acquainted +through a letter asking about exchanges. The Chapter has over 600 specimens.—Percy S. Benedict, Sec.</p> + +<p>350, <em>Los Angeles, Cal.</em> The children never tire of going to the beach, and a trip to the mountains is another +favorite excursion. Our cabinets grow, and I sometimes fear we shall get crowded out of the house by the "trash" that is +accumulating!—Mrs. M. F. Bradshaw, Sec.</p> + +<p>366, <em>Webster Groves, Mo.</em> We have thirteen workers, all active. +<br /> +We have a collection of 510 specimens, mostly minerals and fossils of our own State; a library of 123 volumes; a +microscope; and a chemical laboratory. We intend to hold an encampment this summer. How do you think it would work to +have a "Midsummer Night's Dream," on some summer evening?—we might have the telescope-man come out from the city, +do some star-gazing, and have an open-air magic lantern entertainment? (<em>It would work "to a +charm"!</em>)—Edwin R. Allan, Sec.</p> + +<p>400, <em>Fargo, Dakota.</em> We gave an oyster supper a few weeks ago, and cleared $15. Our rooms are in the Masonic +Block, and the Masons kindly let us use their dishes for the occasion. We have one of the finest rooms for this class of +work in the Northwest. Our members are taking hold in earnest, and it will be a success. We have a fine teacher in Judge +Mitchell. Mr. Mitchell will be glad to aid any of the western Chapters, if they wish. I think for my part there could be +more chapters formed in Dakota, if the boys + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_718" id="Page_718">[Pg 718]</a></span> + +and girls would volunteer work earnestly. How many of the Dakota Chapters would like to organize the Dakota Assembly of +the A. A.? Those in favor will please correspond with me.—Frank Brown, Sec.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">The Fifth Century.</p> + +<p>403, <em>Newark, N. J.</em> We have begun to study the mounting of plants and leaves. We are going to admit some lady +friends to our Chapter, which we think will be a great benefit to us.—Chas. Barrows, Sec. Wm. Earle, Pres.</p> + +<p>404, <em>Baraboo, Wis.</em> We are still working, and our collection is steadily growing. One of our boys caught a +common painted turtle, I put it into a tub with another of the same kind. They soon became so tame that they took food +from my hand quite readily. One day I fed them as usual, but before they finished their meal I emptied the water from +the tub, when one of them that had a worm in its mouth began to choke and could not swallow. I gave the other one, too, +but he only took the end of it in his mouth. But as soon as I put water enough in for them to cover their heads, they +swallowed as easily as ever. I tried this several times with the same result. We gave an entertainment and cleared +$25.—Marie McKennan, Sec.</p> + +<p>409, <em>Sag Harbor, N. Y.</em> This year has been marked by greater progress than any other since our organization. +In April, 1885, a valuable addition was made to our cabinet by the finding of a shrew—<em>genus sorex</em>. This +little animal, the least of the mammals, measured not quite two inches in length, excluding the tail. During May and +June we organized for summer work, on a new plan,—the President appointing committees to collect in special +departments. In July and August we spent numerous "field-days" in the woods and on the shore. We found a rare specimen +of trap-rock. The skeleton of a bottle-fish excited a great deal of curiosity. One of our members who had caught a live +one identified it.</p> + +<p>In November, we commenced a series of discussions: "Which is of more value to mankind—cotton or wool?" (Decided +in favor of wool.) "What is the most useful mammal?" (Four members voted for cow and four for sheep.) "What insect is +most valuable in promoting human happiness?" (Decided for honey-bee.) "What is the most valuable fish?" (Cod.) Many +other questions were debated. We have received many curious specimens: sea-horse, porcupine-fish, key-hole shells, etc. +We intend to collect sea-weed and mosses this summer.—Cornelius R. Sleight, Sec.</p> + +<p>423, <em>Perth Amboy, N. J.</em> Our thirty members have manifested great interest in collecting and examining +specimens from the different divisions of the animal kingdom. Much attention has been given to articulates, including +insects of the sea. At present we are engaged in a very interesting course of observation in mineralogy. We have the +highest appreciation of the assistance we have derived from the A. A., in learning to observe and love +nature.—Bertha M. Mitchell, Cor. Sec.</p> + +<p>424, <em>Decorah, Iowa.</em> Several of our lady members are teachers, and highly value our meetings. We shall try to +have public lectures in geology. We are connecting with these subjects that of humane work, proposing to organize as the +Agassiz Band of Mercy. So we have two harmonious lines of good work begun, and hope to make both of them +permanent.—M. R. Steele, Sec.</p> + +<p>428, <em>St. Paul, Minn.</em> Since our organization we have had seventy-eight meetings, all at our house. As one of +our number is studying for the occupation of mining engineer, and has a forge, furnace, lathe, etc., we have decided to +study iron, steel, and the methods of mining and manufacturing them. We have a club-room, where we keep our cabinets, +and a small library.—Philip C. Allen, Sec.</p> + +<p>436, <em>Toronto, Canada.</em> Our president and several of our members have moved from town, so we have done +comparatively nothing since I wrote you. But Charles Ashdown and I are endeavoring to get some new members, and I +believe we shall have a stronger and better Chapter than ever.—David J. Howell, Sec.</p> + +<p>439, <em>Wilmington, Del.</em> We have collected more cocoons and chrysalids this winter than ever before. Many of +them are very rare, among them, <em>Achemon</em>, <em>P. satellitia</em>, <em>Smerinthis gemmatus</em>, <em>E. +imperalis</em>, and <em>Callosama angulitera</em>.—Percy C. Pyle.</p> + +<p>440, <em>Keene, N. H.</em> We have several hundred specimens, mostly <em>lepidoptera</em> and <em>coleoptera</em>. +Have found a great many fine beetles lately under the bark of dead trees and stumps where they pass the winter. We +always note the place of capture of all specimens, and all other items of interest.—Frank H. Foster, Sec.</p> + +<p>448, <em>Washington, D. C.</em> We bring to our third anniversary, a gratifying sense of well-being and desert, with +promise of continued vigor. Our portfolios hold 343 reports, and every member is there represented. Our fifty books and +pamphlets are read with application. We are ambitious for a children's Chapter, and long to make discoveries. Perhaps +some of us may some day, and with this thrilling thought we are planning careful summer walks, with thoughtful +"observation books."—Sabelle Macfarland.</p> + +<p>450, <em>Fitchburg, Mass.</em> As we have consolidated all our Fitchburg Chapters into one, now known as No. 48, +Fitchburg, A, there is no special report from 450, but I think we now have an earnest society on a solid +foundation.—Geo. F. Whittemore.</p> + +<p>453, <em>Oswego, N. Y.</em> Active. Will soon hold meetings weekly instead of fortnightly. Special study for the year +has been archaeology and geology. Have been much interested in the <em>archeopteryx</em>. On archaeology, will send you +a more lengthy report.—Will A. Burr, Sec.</p> + +<p>[<em>The promised report came in due time, and it is a masterpiece of patient work,—carefully illustrated with +drawings of Indian arrow-heads, axes, pottery, needles, fish-hooks, pipes, and anvils. It covers twelve pages closely +written. We value it, and have placed it carefully on file.</em>]</p> + +<p>460, <em>Washington, D. C.</em> This Chapter was organized in the spring of 1882 from a small association we then +had; it had already existed for two years or more when we heard of the A. A. We concluded this would give us a wider +scope for scientific investigations, and so made formal application for admission into the Association, which had +already advanced with marvelous rapidity.</p> + +<p>Vernon M. Dorsey, an unusually promising mineralogist and chemist, was elected president. When a new member was +elected it cost him nothing, so he was elected with the full consent of <em>all</em> the members, not one objecting. +Passive members were allowed in this Chapter, they paying ten cents a month, which money went into the treasury.</p> + +<p>We adopted most of the rules and regulations in the Hand-book, and, after having arranged the executive portion of +the Chapter, we commenced to have a regular course of essays or lectures, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, given by the active +members, which lectures the passive members could attend if so inclined. After the lectures we generally had debates, +and as each member had a different branch of Natural History to which he devoted his attention, the lectures and debates +were not monotonous.</p> + +<p>We ran on pretty smoothly for about a year and a half, until the money in the treasury commenced to accumulate, when, +with the exception of one or two members, the Chapter spontaneously combusted.</p> + +<p>We have never been able to rebuild it. We can hold no meetings. <em>It exists</em>, really, <em>only in name</em>, +because the prospects for the future look rather dull.</p> + +<p>If you will allow our Chapter to remain on the list, I should much prefer you would do so.</p> + +<p>I have carried on investigations in various branches of zoölogy, but, as this is merely a report of the Chapter, I +will not enter into details concerning them.</p> + +<p>I hope that the other Chapters will meet with better success than ours, though it may yet revive.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Yours respectfully,</span> + <span class="ind3">F. A. Reynolds, Cor. Sec.</span> + </div> +</div> + +<p>[<em>We are sorry that this excellent Chapter experienced "spontaneous combustion," but we hope and believe that it +will ere long also experience voluntary resurrection.</em>]</p> + +<p>465, <em>Waterville, Maine.</em> Our president has moved away. The rest of us have been exceedingly busy. We have been +obliged to vacate our room, and, as we could not get another, have had to store our specimens. But we are not dead yet! +Far from it! It is only a case of suspended animation. We fully expect to take up work again this summer.—Charles +W. Spencer, Sec.</p> + +<p>[<em>Not even "suspended animation;" the Chapter is only catching its breath for more vigorous exertion.</em>]</p> + +<p>470, <em>Nicollet, Wis.</em> Still prospering. We have a small room nicely fitted up, in our High School building, of +which we are quite proud. We have a working membership of twenty-four, and hold regular meetings.</p> + +<p>[<em>A friend of the Chapter adds to this report of Miss Sara Ritchie, the secretary, the following:</em>]</p> + +<p>"I was exceedingly interested in listening to the different members reporting formally the occurrence of our spring +birds, with which was associated the arrival of certain insects. Two years ago, such reports were impossible, as the +observing faculties of very few of the members had been sufficiently trained. If nothing more has been acquired, this +one habit of close observation, developed by our A. A. work, is worth all it may have cost those who have encouraged and +carried out the plan of the Association."</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Change of Address.</p> + +<p>The address of Chapter 850 is now simply Chapter 850 A. A., Box 1587, Bangor, Maine.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p class="smcap">Exchanges.</p> + +<p>Correspondence with other family Chapters whose members are beginners in botany or entomology.—Mrs. R. Van +Dien, Jr., Box 13, Hohokus, Bergen Co., N. J.</p> + +<p>Correspondence desired. Entomology and botany.—Paul L. Smith, 3348 Indiana Av., Chicago, Ill.</p> + +<p>Postmarks and fossils (<em>Lingulipis pinnaformis</em>) for books on zoölogy. Write first.—Chas. F. Baker, +St. Croix Falls, Wis.</p> + +<p><em>Cecropia</em> moths for other <em>lepidoptera</em>.—W. B. Greenleaf, Box 311, Normal Park, Ill.</p> + +<p>Correspondence with other Chapters earnestly desired.—Stephen R. Wood, Sec. 776, Oakland, Cal.</p> + +<p>Florida (east coast) shells, star-fishes, coquina, small live alligators, etc., etc., for anything rare or +curious.—J. Earle Bacon, Ormond, Volusia Co., Fla.</p> + +<p>Coquina, trap-rock, asphaltum, Skates' egg-case, key-hole shell, and cocoons.—C. R. Sleight, Sec. Ch. 409, Sag +Harbor, L. I., N. Y.</p> + +<p>All kinds of Chinese curiosities for fine Indian relics.—Kurt Kleinschmidt, Box 752, Helena, Montana.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_719" id="Page_719">[Pg 719]</a></span></p> + + + +<table class="padded-table"> + <tr> + <td align="center" colspan="4"><strong><span class="smcap">Chapters, New and Reorganized.</span></strong></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <th align="center">No.</th><th align="center">Name.</th> + <th align="center">No. of<br />members.</th> + <th align="center">Address.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>957</td> + <td class="left">Galveston, Texas (B)</td> + <td class="right">9</td> + <td class="left">Emma E. Walden, Cor. 34th and N. 1/2 streets.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>958</td> + <td class="left">Greenup, Ky. (A)</td> + <td class="right">20</td> + <td class="left">Mrs. Geo. Gibbs, Box 104.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>959</td> + <td class="left">Hartwick Sem., N. Y. (A)</td> + <td class="right">5</td> + <td class="left">Alfred A. Hiller.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>960</td> + <td class="left">Geneva, N. Y. (C)</td> + <td class="right">6</td> + <td class="left">F. H. Bachman, Box 559.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>961</td> + <td class="left">Hartford, Conn. (G)</td> + <td class="right">12</td> + <td class="left">Austin H. Pease, 4 Canton street.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>962</td> + <td class="left">Kansas City, Mo. (B)</td> + <td class="right">5</td> + <td class="left">R. F. Breeze, 611 E. 17th St.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>963</td> + <td class="left">Geddes, N. Y. (A)</td> + <td class="right">4</td> + <td class="left">G. E. Avery, Box 76.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>964</td> + <td class="left">Manchester, Iowa (A)</td> + <td class="right">20</td> + <td class="left">Fred Blair.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>965</td> + <td class="left">Three Rivers, Mich. (A)</td> + <td class="right">7</td> + <td class="left">G. W. Daniels.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>966</td> + <td class="left">Randolph, Ill. (A)</td> + <td class="right">24</td> + <td class="left">Miss Grace Stewart.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>863</td> + <td class="left">Hinsdale, Ill. (B)</td> + <td class="right">9</td> + <td class="left">N. H. Webster.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>60</td> + <td class="left">Rockport, Mass, (A)</td> + <td class="right">12</td> + <td class="left">Chas. H. Andrews.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>145</td> + <td class="left">Indianapolis, Ind. (A)</td> + <td class="right">8</td> + <td class="left">G. L. Payne, care of T. B. Linn.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>352</td> + <td class="left">Amherst, Mass.</td> + <td class="right">4</td> + <td class="left">Miss Edith S. Field.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center" colspan="4"><strong><span class="smcap">Disbanded.</span></strong></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>349</td> + <td class="left">Linden, N. J.</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">E. H. Schram. [<em>Members removed.</em>]</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>494</td> + <td class="left">Northfield, Vt.</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">T. M. Hitt.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>535</td> + <td class="left">Chapel Hill, N. J.</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">Miss Clara J. Martin.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>371</td> + <td class="left">Granville, O.</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">Miss Ida M. Sanders.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>83</td> + <td class="left">St. Louis (A)</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">Maud M. Love. [<em>Members removed.</em>]</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>83</td> + <td class="left">Duncannon, Pa.</td> + <td class="right">—</td> + <td class="left">Miss Annie I. Jackson.</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p>Address all communications for this Department to<br /> + <span class="smcap">Mr. Harlan H. Ballard</span>, Lenox, Mass.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE RIDDLE-BOX.</h2> +<h3>ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JUNE NUMBER.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Half-Square.</span> 1. Canada. 2. Arena. 3. Neat. 4. Ant. 5, Da(w). 6. A.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rhomboid.</span> Across: 1. Sloop. 2. Organ. 3. Ergot. 4. Eerie. 5. Sandy.——<span +class="smcap">Cross-word Enigma.</span> Blossom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">St. Andrew's Cross of Diamonds.</span> I. 1. P. 2. Fur. 3. Fares. 4. Puritan. 5. Retip. 6. Sap. +7. N. II. 1. N. 2. Fen. 3. Fagin. 4. Negroes. 5. Niobe. 6. Nee. 7. S. III. 1. N. 2. Pen. 3. Puman. 4. Nemesis. 5. Nasal. +6. Nil. 7. S. IV. 1. N. 2. Ben. 3. Baton. 4. Nettles. 5. Nolle. 6. Nee. 7. S. V. 1. S. 2. Let. 3. Livid. 4. Several. 5. +Tired. 6. Dad. 7. L.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">"Diamond" Puzzle.</span> Across: 1. S. 2. Ape. 3. Bream. 4. Car. 5. R. Downward: 1. B. 2. Arc. 3. +Spear. 4. Ear. 5. M.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buried Cities.</span> 1. Berne. 2. Basle. 3. Bergen. 4. Quito. 5. Herat. 6. Mandalay. 7. Venice. +8. Bremen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Berry Puzzle.</span> 1. Dogberry. 2. Checkerberry. 3. Strawberry. 4. Shadberry. 5. Barberry. 6. +Raspberry. 7. Partridgeberry. 8. Snowberry. 9. Thimbleberry. 10. Gooseberry. n. Elderberry. 12. Bayberry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diamond.</span> 1. S. 2. Lea. 3. Larva. 4. Serpent. 5. Avert. 6. Ant. 7. T.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Double Acrostics.</span> Primals, Thomas; finals, Arnold. Crosswords: 1. ThaliA. 2. HorroR. 3. +OberoN. 4. MikadO. 5. AstraL. 6. SinbaD.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">P1 In June 'tis good to lie beneath a tree</span> + <span class="ind3">While the blithe season comforts every sense,</span> + <span class="ind3">Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart,</span> + <span class="ind3">Brimming it o'er with sweetness unawares.</span> + <span class="ind3">Fragrant and silent as that rosy snow</span> + <span class="ind3">Wherewith the pitying apple-tree fills up</span> + <span class="ind3">And tenderly lines some last year robin's nest.</span> + <span class="ind5"><em>James Russell Lowell.</em></span> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beheadings.</span> Trinity. 1. T—ape. 2. R—asp. 3. I—con. 4. N—ail. 5. +I—man. 6. T—ide. 7. V—end.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Double Diagonals.</span> From 1 to 2, chaffinch; from 3 to 4, goldfinch. Crosswords: 1. +Corroding. 2. Childhood. 3. Gradually. 4. Confident. 5. Chafferer. 6. Exhibited. 7. Penitence. 8. Acoustics. 9. +Hair-cloth.——<span class="smcap">Charade.</span> Jack-stones.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Metamorphoses.</span> 1. Ape; ale, all, ail, aim, rim, ram, ran, man. 2. Oars; bars, bard, card, +cord, cold, colt, coat, boat. 3. Lead; bead, beat, belt, bolt, bold, gold. 4. Warm; harm, hard, card, cord, cold. 5. +One; owe, awe, aye, dye, doe, toe, too, two. 6. Age; aye, dye, die, hie, his, has, gas.</p> + + +<hr style="width:10%" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">To Our Puzzlers</span>: In sending answers to puzzles, sign only your initials or use a short +assumed name; but if you send a complete list of answers you may sign your full name. Answers should be addressed to +<span class="smcap">St. Nicholas</span> "Riddle-box," Care of <span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span>, 33 East +Seventeenth Street, New York City.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Answers To Puzzles in the April Number</span> were received, too late for acknowledgment in the +June number, from Esther Reid, East Melbourne, Australia, I—R. F. Graham, London, England, 1.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Answers to all the Puzzles in the April Number</span> were received, before April 20, from "B. L. +Z. Bub, No. 1,"—Paul Reese—Emma St. C. Whitney—"The McG's"—May and Julia—Ed, Beth, and +Charlie—Maggie T. Turrill—Arthur and Bertie Knox—N. B. Oakford—M. G. Jackson—"Cricket and +Cripsy"—Elisabeth, Richard, and Ruth—Pough—etc.—Dorothea E. Kennade—Josie and +Lillie—Blanche and Fred—"B. L. Z. Bub, No. 2"—"The Spencers"—C. and S. Andrews—The Stewart +Browns—"May and 79 "—Effie K. Talboys—Delia, Lou, Ida, and Lillie—"San Anselmo +Valley"—Madge and the Domimie—Edith McDonald—Maud E. Palmer—Mary Ludlow—Mamma and +Jokie—"Clifford and Coco"—Francesco and Co.—Mamma and the Girls—Shumway Hen and +Chickens—"Theo.Ther"—Alice—M. E. d'A.—Blithedale—"Betsy Trotwood"—Belle and Bertha +Murdock—Judith—Randolph and Robert—"Miss M. and the Gals"—W. R. M.—Nellie and +Reggie—Fannie and Louise Lockett—Bertha H.—"R. U. Pert"—Francis W. Islip—X. and +Y.—Alice and Lizzie Pendleton—Frying-pan—Hallie Couch—S. and B. Rhodes and de +Grassy—Savoir et Sagesse—X. Y. Z. and Ulysses—B. Z. O.—Carrie Seaver and Alice +Young—Dash.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Answers to Puzzles in the April Number</span> were received, before April 20, from Foster and +Remer, 2—Clark Holbrook, 3—"Triangle," 4—J. M. Moore, 1—Eleanor B. Ripley, 6—E. M. +Benedict, 1—"Block and Chip," 9—H. E. Hanbold, 2—A. G. Tomay, 2—E. O. Brownell, 2—Geo. S. +Seymour and Co., 9—N. Beall, 2—Philip and Mamma, 4—N. L. Peacock, 1—"Yum Yum," 2—E. Parks, +1—F. A. and H. C. Hart, 2—Alice and R. G., 1—Maud S., 1—"Egg," 1—B., H., M., M., and A. +Read, 1—Bub and Bubess, 1—"Infant," 1—Pepper and Maria, 9—A. Ransom and W. Chase, 1—A. H. +Sibley, 1—Ned L. Mitchell, 4—Eddie B., 1—"Lone Star," 7—A. F. S., 1—G. E. C. and E. B. F., +5—M. Kershey and S. Sweet, 9—G. E. Campbell, 3—G. F. Cameron, 2—B. Sudduth, 2—Kendrick +Bros., 9—R. B. C., 2—E. and K. Mitchell, 3—L. D. Shropshire, 1—"J. McDuffe," +1—"Doane-utsand Rice," 1—"Phlimpy," 2 —D. Thomas and Auntie, 2—"Snags," 2—F. Althaus, +4—Daisy Condell, 3—Me and Be, 2—N. E. Miner, 4—Geo. Hawley, 5—A. B. Smith, 2—R. K. +Allison, 1—M. Flurscheim, 1—Mrs. Emma Sloat, 3—Millie Atkinson, 1—H. Frost, 1—B. C. +Ketchum. 1—Billy and Me, 7—S. R. Manning, 1—Mamma and Belp, 1—Rose H. Wedin, 1—Mary and +Jennie Butler, 4—No name, Fredericksburgh, 4—"Dixie," 2—M. S. Bird, 1—R. L. Foering, 1—F. +Jarman, 3—E. F. and F. E. Bliss, i—L. and C. Kendrickson, 2—Tessie Gutman, 7—A. D. C., +2—Joe and Billy, i—L. Wainman, 2—"Yum Yum," 1—N. L. Howes, 2—"B. Rabbit and T. Baby," +4—H. S. Chalmers, 1—"Pen and Ink-bottle," 1—Maginnis, 1—J. R. F. S., 1—Christine and +Cousin, 5—I. M. Lebermann, 6—Albert and Gussie, 1—C. J. Tully, 2—Laura W. and Alice M., +2—Grace E. Keech, 6—Agnes Converse, 4—"Head-lights," 1—C. Gallup, 1—C. W. Chadwick, +2—Prof. P. H. Janney, 1—E. E. Hudson, 1—"Dixie and Pixie," 1—"Mr. Pickwick," and "Sam Weller," +8—M. F. Davenport, 1—"89 and Chestnuts," 1—J. A Keeler, 6—Edith, Grace, and Jessie, +2—Bessie Jackson, 4—H. N. and Nickie Bros., 2—J. M. B., G. S., and A. Louise W., 8—K. L. Reeder, +1—Mamie R., 9—Walter La Bar, 8—H. C. Barnes, 1—Jennie Judge, 3—-E. H. Seward, 3—"The +Lloyds," 8—A. Wister, 2—Fred T. Pierce, 6—Lucia C. Bradley, 8—Puzzle Club, 9—Alina and +Estelle, 1—Pearl Colby and Nell Betts, 7—Eleanor and Maude Peart, 7—S. B. S. Bissell, 4—Estelle +and Edith, 1—F. J. and Flip, 2—"Mohawk Valley," 8—H. Allen, Jr., 1—R. Lloyd, 5—Mamma and +Fanny, 9—Mrs. E. and Grace E., 5—L. Delano and M. Wilson, 8—I. and E. Swanwick, 5—Anonymous, +4—Herbert Wolfe, 9—Lulu May, 7—No name, 7—"Koko and Pitti-sing," 1—Sallie Viles, +9—Tessie and Henri, 3—Murray and Percy, 9—S. L. Meeks, 6—Marjorie Daw, 1—C. and H. Condit, +8—"Peggotty," 7—Katie, 1—Edith Young, 3—Two Cousins, 9—Eva Hamilton, 9—Chip and +Block, 2.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_720" id="Page_720">[Pg 720]</a></span></p> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illus770.jpg" width="800" height="248" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h3>NUMERICAL ENIGMA.</h3> + +<p>I am composed of ninety-three letters, and am a famous toast +given at Norfolk by a distinguished naval officer who was killed in a +duel in 1820.</p> + +<p>My 89-41-8-49 is a preposition. My 22-73-33 is belonging to us. +My 53-15-46-65-29-85 is a specter. My 57-70-1-10 is a float. My +25-59-3 is a term used in addressing a gentleman. My 13-76-48-19 +is stockings. My 68-83-26 is to fasten. My 75-5-81 is bashful. +My 62-91-6-80 is a division of time. My 69-23-44-55 is restless. +My 27-35-37-18-50-90 is the name of a season. My 67-63-92-88-47 +is the Christian name of a famous American poet. My 31-28-20-58 +is a conflagration. My 30-72-82-24-32-64 is intense dread. My +4-51-17-12-42-60 is a military engine. My 9-34-93-16-45-14-78-86 +is a body of men commanded by a colonel. My 40-2-74-38-21-87-54-71-56 +are renegades. My 36-39-61-79-52-11-7-66 84-77-43 is a +machine-gun that can fire two hundred shots a minute.</p> + + + +<h3>CUBE.</h3> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus771.png" width="400" height="351" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>From 1 to 2, a parent; from 2 to 6, tranquillity; from 5 to 6, a useful instrument; from 1 to 5, a feminine name; +from 3 to 4, consuming; from 4 to 8, voracious; from 7 to 8, actively; from 3 to 7, the flag which distinguishes a +company of soldiers; from 1 to 3, a very small fragment; from 2 to 4, resounded; from 6 to 8, not difficult; from 5 to +7, part of the day.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">DAVID H. D.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>CHARADE.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">My <em>first</em> is that happy position</span> + <span class="ind2">The holders of stock love to see;</span> + <span class="ind1">'T is the point above which the aspiring</span> + <span class="ind2">Are evermore hoping to be.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">My <em>second</em> made haste for the doctor;</span> + <span class="ind2">His mother was ailing, he heard;</span> + <span class="ind1">And that mother ever had taught him</span> + <span class="ind2">To revere and be kind to my <em>third</em>.</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind1">Then he went to my <em>whole</em> and requested</span> + <span class="ind2">Its master his mother would see,</span> + <span class="ind1">For he knew that my <em>first</em> and my <em>second</em></span> + <span class="ind2">To his mother most welcome would be.</span> + <span class="ind5">W. H. A.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>ANAGRAMS.</h3> + +<p>The letters of each of the following anagrams may be transposed so as to spell the name of a well-known novel.</p> + +<p>1. Nod, quiet ox. 2. Wilt sit over? 3. Visiting near H. 4. Earning my gun. 5. Lord Poicy is south. 6. But no nice +clams. 7. I hem when I want to. 8. Is it of papa's homely Ted? 9. If we have lifted a cork. 10. We quit Dr., and +run.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">E. L. G. M.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>METAMORPHOSES.</h3> + +<p>The problem is to change one given word to another given word, by altering one letter at a time, each alteration +making a new word, the number of letters being always the same, and the letters remaining always in the same order. +Sometimes the metamorphoses may be made in as many moves as there are letters in each given word, but in other instances +more moves are required.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Example</span>: Change <span class="smcap">LAMP</span> to <span class="smcap">FIRE</span> in four +moves. Answer, <span class="smcap">LAMP</span>, <span class="smcap">LAME</span>, <span class="smcap">FAME</span>, <span +class="smcap">FARE</span>, <span class="smcap">FIRE</span>.</p> + +<p>1. Change <span class="smcap">COW</span> to <span class="smcap">RAT</span> in three moves. 2. Change <span +class="smcap">HARD</span> to <span class="smcap">SOFT</span> in six moves. 3. Change <span class="smcap">LEFT</span> to +<span class="smcap">EAST</span> in four moves. 4. Change <span class="smcap">HIT</span> to <span +class="smcap">LOW</span> in four moves. 5. Change <span class="smcap">LONG</span> to <span class="smcap">WEST</span> in +five moves.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">D. I. VERSITY.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>RHOMBOIDS.</h3> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus772a.png" width="400" height="186" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>I. <span class="smcap">Across</span>: 1. Poison. 2. An ancient philosopher memorable +for his friendship with Pythias. 3. Large bundles. 4. A substance +obtained from certain trees. 5. A strip of leather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Downward</span>: 1. In prove. 2. A nickname. 3. To seize by a +sudden grasp. 4. A famous mosque. 5. Certain burrowing animals. +6. A cosy place. 7. A title of respect. 8. A word of denial. +9. In prove.</p> + +<p>II. <span class="smcap">Across</span>: 1. A very wealthy man. 2. A bricklayer. 3. Inhabitants +of a certain European country. 4. To send back. 5. A +benefactor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Downward</span>: 1. In Rhine. 2. A verb. 3. Vicious. 4. A low +ridge of stone or gravel. 5. Freed from osseous substance. 6. The +name of a captain in one of Jules Verne's stories. 7. Iniquity. 8. A +preposition. 9. In Rhine.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">NORA L. WINSLOW.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>PI.</h3> + +<p>Nilgang yam eb dais ot eb os kile eth hatemcatsim atth ti nac veern eb fylul ratlen.</p> + + + + +<h3>ZIGZAG.</h3> + +<p>Each of the words described contains the same number of letters, and the zigzag, beginning at the upper left-hand +letter, will spell a day famous in history.</p> + +<p>1. A creeping vine. 2. A common insect. 3. A cover. 4. Nourished. 5. Placed. 6. A boy's nickname. 7. A kitchen +utensil. 8. To augment. 9. An extremity. 10. A conjunction. 11. A fabulous bird. 12. Conducted. 13. To delve. 14. A +month. 15. A song.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">HENRY C. ROBERTS.</span> + </div> +</div> + + + +<h3>HOUR-GLASS.</h3> + +<div class="imgcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus772b.png" width="400" height="324" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Across</span>: 1. Unmarried women. 2. With quick beating or palpitation. 3. A musical term +meaning "slowly." 4. A gentle blow. 5. In water. 6. An exclamation. 7. A marked feature. 8. A French coin. 9. More +comely.</p> + +<p>The central letters spell articles much worn during the summer. The letters from 1 to 2 name the delight of invalids +during the summer months; from 3 to 4, an instrument used for timing races.</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="ind5">L. LOS REGNI</span> + </div> +</div> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's St. Nicholas v. 13 No. 9 July 1886, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ST. NICHOLAS V. 13 NO. 9 JULY 1886 *** + +***** This file should be named 36750-h.htm or 36750-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/5/36750/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Alex and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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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