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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ff0d89 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52745 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52745) diff --git a/old/52745-8.txt b/old/52745-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3db25c7..0000000 --- a/old/52745-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2567 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, January 24, 1882, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Harper's Round Table, January 24, 1882 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: August 7, 2016 [EBook #52745] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 24, 1882 *** - - - - -Produced by Annie R. McGuire - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE] - - * * * * * - -VOL. III.--NO. 117. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR -CENTS. - -Tuesday, January 24, 1882. Copyright, 1882, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50 -per Year, in Advance. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: BOY'S HEAD.--BY GREUZE.--[SEE PAGE 202.]] - - - - -A COUNTRY BOY IN WINTER. - -BY SARAH O. JEWETT. - - - The wind may blow the snow about, - For all I care, says Jack, - And I don't mind how cold it grows, - For then the ice won't crack. - Old folks may shiver all day long, - But I shall never freeze; - What cares a jolly boy like me - For winter days like these? - - Far down the long snow-covered hills - It is such fun to coast, - So clear the road! the fastest sled - There is in school I boast. - The paint is pretty well worn off. - But then I take the lead; - A dandy sled's a loiterer, - And I go in for speed. - - When I go home at supper-time, - Ki! but my cheeks are red! - They burn and sting like anything; - I'm cross until I'm fed. - You ought to see the biscuit go, - I am so hungry then; - And old Aunt Polly says that boys - Eat twice as much as men. - - There's always something I can do - To pass the time away; - The dark comes quick in winter-time-- - A short and stormy day. - And when I give my mind to it, - It's just as father says, - I almost do a man's work now, - And help him many ways. - - I shall be glad when I grow up - And get all through with school, - I'll show them by-and-by that I - Was not meant for a fool. - I'll take the crops off this old farm, - I'll do the best I can. - A jolly boy like me won't be - A dolt when he's a man. - - I like to hear the old horse neigh - Just as I come in sight, - The oxen poke me with their horns - To get their hay at night. - Somehow the creatures seem like friends, - And like to see me come. - Some fellows talk about New York, - But I shall stay at home. - - - - -TODD AND KETCHUM'S "GRATE SHOW." - -BY ELLA RODMAN CHURCH. - - -Any one who is well acquainted with boys knows what a common thing it is -for them to get up a circus. So there is nothing extraordinary in that -to write about. But some of the things that happened at Todd and -Ketchum's "Grate Show" were a little out of the common way. - -One of these things was that the Giant fought and fell apart. How he -managed to do it will be explained further on. - -Rufus Todd was twelve, and Harry Ketchum eleven; but they felt very much -grown up, because each was the eldest of several brothers and sisters, -and the younger ones were always spoken of as "the children." Rufus's -brother San (his name was Alexander, and it seemed too much of a name -for so small a boy) always wanted to do the things he did; but Rufe was -very apt to frown, and tell him he was too little. - -When Todd and Ketchum were getting up their "Grate Show," Mr. Ketchum, -Harry's father, said, "You don't spell it right." - -"Oh yes, we do, sir," replied Rufe, who thought that Mr. Ketchum didn't -know much about shows; "that is the way Artemus Ward spelled his." - -Mr. Ketchum laughed, and said, "Oh, well, if you want to spell it just -as Artemus does, that is all right." - -He kindly helped them with the large handbill which they got ready to -nail in front of the tent, and said that he thought it would attract -crowds. It was to be hoped not, for the tent was a queer affair, made of -sheets and quilts and unsteady poles, and it wouldn't take very much to -topple it over. But they had no misgivings. - -San Todd was sent around the village, which was a very small one, to ask -people to buy tickets for the "Grate Show," as the proprietors thought -it would be scarcely dignified to go themselves; and San, who was a very -exact, straight-forward little fellow, thought it his duty to describe -to the people just what they were going to see. - -"We've got a Giant," he would say, "and a Dwarf, and a Bearded Lady, and -a Elephant, and Rufe _thinks_ he can make a wild Indian, mebbe." - -The last part always made them laugh, and quite a number of tickets were -disposed of. - -One of San's first visits was made to Mrs. Williams, a lady who, with -her daughter, was boarding for the summer at Dr. Gurner's. Miss Fanny -was quite a grown-up young lady, and San said she was the nicest-looking -girl he had ever seen; he particularly wanted her to come to the show. - -But she had gone out for a walk; so the little boy saw Mrs. Williams, -and asked her if she would let Miss Fanny come. - -"Will you take good care of her if I do?" said the lady, smiling at him -very pleasantly. - -"Yes, ma'am," was the prompt reply; "she shall have a reserved seat, if -she pays for it." - -It did not occur to San that this was rather a queer way of inviting a -young lady to go to an entertainment. - -"And what is the price of a reserved seat?" continued Mrs. Williams. - -"Eight cents," replied the young ticket seller. "You can see every thing -there; and six cents for the next, where you don't see much; and four -cents for the places where you can't see anything." - -"I don't believe I can go," said Miss Fanny's mother, "but here is the -money for a reserved seat for Fanny. Suppose, though, that she should be -rather late--she is going to town to-morrow--wouldn't some one else get -her seat?" - -"No, _ma'am_!" very emphatically; "Miss Fanny'll have her seat, even if -she don't come at all." - -Mrs. Williams couldn't see just how this was to be managed; but she -thought that to hear San in his capacity of ticket vender was quite -worth the money. - -The next afternoon was the day of the show, and the weather was bright -and pleasant. A great many people came--so many, that they couldn't all -get into the tent at once, and those who did get in were politely -requested to move about carefully for fear of its coming down. - -When the show began it was discovered that the Bearded Lady had a very -youthful face, and in spite of the fringe of hair tied under her chin, -and her sitting cross-legged upon a high box with a cushion on it, -everybody soon recognized Susie Ketchum. - -It was mean of people to say that the Dwarf was not small for his age, -just because they saw it was Willie Todd dressed up, when he had a -little pillow on his back for a hump, and all. And if the Elephant (Mr. -Ketchum's hired man on his hands and knees, with a gray blanket thrown -over him) _did_ drop his trunk, it was only because it wasn't properly -fastened on. - -The Giant, though, was superb; he towered up to the very ceiling, and -looked so fierce and terrible, with his swarthy skin and huge mustache, -that, though the spectators _thought_ they saw Rufe Todd's blue eyes -twinkling in the upper story, they didn't dare to believe it. Besides, -how could he have lengthened himself out so? - -So they all just stared in amazement. But presently there were some -queer movements about the middle of the human structure, and a smothered -voice seemed to proceed from its stomach. Then there was an -unmistakable "Get out!" a response of "You did that on purpose," and the -Giant suddenly broke in two, while the halves took to hitting each -other. The tent was dragged down with him; the children screamed, and -everybody scrambled. But when they got out from the sheets and quilts, -they all began to laugh, even the two pieces of the Giant, Rufe and -Harry, who had found it more uncomfortable to be one than they expected. - -Just at this time Miss Fanny arrived, and as soon as she saw San, she -said, "And where is my reserved seat, young man?" - -"That is all right," was the smiling reply; "nobody hasn't sat in it." - -"Ladies and gentlemen," said Rufus, coming forward with a very handsome -bow, "the circus is over." - -"That is very evident," replied Miss Fanny, laughing with the others; -and San considered it quite a compliment that she said it was the -funniest circus she ever saw. - -Nobody could have been so unfeeling as to remark she hadn't seen it at -all. - - - - -THE WAVES AT WORK. - -BY CHARLES BARNARD. - - -Were you ever down by the beach when the wind was blowing in from the -open sea? Did you see the white-caps? Did you see the surf as one great -green wave after the other came marching in, and fell over with a -magnificent roar on the beach, while the salt spray filled all the air -with briny fragrance? If you have seen these splendid sights, you -remember how the waves seemed to march along in a great procession -before the strong wind. Strange sights are these, yet the way in which -the wind starts the waves and keeps them moving is stranger still. - -If you go to Sandy Hook, or to Rockaway, or Coney Island by boat, you -will see some of these things. The wind blows upon the water, and as it -moves very easily, a part of the water is pushed up into little heaps by -the wind. If the wind is light, these tiny heaps are small, and soon -fall down again. When the wind ruffles the water in this way, we call it -a ripple. When the wind blows stronger, it pushes up more water, and we -call these heaps and ridges waves. As the wind keeps on blowing in the -same direction, the heaps rise and fall quickly, and the waves appear to -move along over the surface of the water in a great procession. It is -really only an appearance. The water does not move along, but only up -and down, as the motion started by the wind passes over the surface. -However, for our purposes, it is enough to describe things just as they -look. - -Under the waves the water is calm and still. The huge billows that roll -over the sea in storms are seldom much more than fifteen feet high, and -they pass over the surface without disturbing the water beyond the depth -of a few feet. Every wave has a top, a middle part, and a bottom, or -lower part. When a wave coming in from the sea approaches the shore, the -bottom of the wave strikes the land first. The sand catches and holds it -back and makes it go slower. The top of the wave, not feeling this -friction against the ground, rushes forward, leaving the lower part -behind. As the wave comes nearer to the beach, the bottom part is held -back more and more, and the whole wave tips over. It pitches forward as -if tripped up, and the top rushes onward swiftly, while the lower part -lags behind. The crest, or upper edge, rises higher, for there is no -room for it all to pass, and it lifts up as if trying to stand upright. -The air gets caught under the crest of the wave in front, and in a -moment the wave, unable to rise any higher, falls flat on its face upon -the sand. The air caught under it bursts out with a roaring sound, and -escapes through the water in a million white bubbles that make the water -look like milky foam. - -The white-caps you see upon the open water are made in the same way. The -wind seems to be impatient that the waves move so slowly, and it knocks -their caps off, and the poor waves seem to get very mad about it, and to -grow quite white in the face. The top of the wave tries to rush ahead of -the lower part, and tumbles over in the foaming water-fall the sailors -call a white-cap. - -When a wave reaches the shore, something very curious happens. The -bottom of the wave strikes the ground first. The wave drags over the -sand as it passes on toward the beach, and draws some of the loose sand -after it. First, the smaller and lighter grains are rolled along or -lifted up and carried a short distance by the wave. As the water grows -more shallow, the wave scrapes and drags over the sand, and the larger -grains and even small pebbles are rolled along after the lighter sand. -But the wave must go slower here, and thus it lets go its hold and drops -its load. When it has passed, the sand, that may have been level before, -is raised into a low ridge or windrow. The smaller and lighter grains, -being carried farthest, are dropped in one place, and the heavier grains -and small pebbles are dropped in another place. - -The next wave may stir up and drag along more sand, and lay it down, all -sorted out, on the ridge. Other waves may follow, and do the same thing, -and so the heap begins to grow: the baby sand-bar has been born. It may -have been a mere trifle that started it just there--a crab or the bones -of a dead fish, some gravel dropped from a piece of melting ice, a stray -bit of sea-weed. No matter what it was, or how trifling the obstruction, -the loose sand rolled along by the wave caught just there, and was left -behind; the next wave left a little more, and each in turn added to the -heap. - -Waves are very irregular in size, and perhaps some big fellow may lift -up more sand than he can carry, and may drop it all in one place. Then -for some time the weather may be pleasant, and the tiny ridge, perhaps -not a quarter of an inch high, and twenty feet wide, may rest awhile. -Then a storm comes, with large waves, and when they meet this slight -obstruction they go over it more slowly, and drop part of their loads -upon it. So it may grow very fast in a single day. In front, toward the -sea, the sand will be scooped out in long trenches, and behind it will -be a stretch of deeper and smoother water. After that every wave that -comes in stumbles and appears to trip just there, and there are -white-caps over that spot even in pleasant weather. When the smooth -swelling rollers are coming in from the sea, they appear to be angry -every time they strike their feet on the hidden bar, and they tumble -over with a roar, and show a white feather of foam in their caps. - -The sand-bar, once started, never stops growing or changing. It grows -wider and higher, or it changes its shape, twisting about in the -strangest manner. Smaller bars spring up upon it, or disappear only to -grow up in another place. At last, some spring day, when the tides run -low, the bar appears above the water. Strange things have happened to -it. The fish have made it their home, lively crabs scamper about on the -wet sand, and thousands of clams find a snug resting-place there. - -One day last summer I found one of these young sand-bars cast up by a -storm at the eastern point of Coney Island, near the inlet at the end of -the Marine Railway. It was so strange that I took a shot at it with my -camera, and here it is. It is a very small affair, and you may not be -able to find it next summer, for I dare say the next storm tore it all -to pieces, or carried it away and put it somewhere else. - -[Illustration: FINGERS OF THE SEA.] - -You see the long, low heap of sand thrown up by the waves. Beyond is the -sea looking toward Rockaway. Behind the bar is a long pool of still -water, and you can see how the waves, in pushing the sand forward, drove -it into the pool in long fingers, or capes. See the sea-weed and -rubbish thrown up by the surf. It is all sorted out, the larger pieces -at the top, and the smaller bits trailing along toward the pool. All the -light sand is arranged by itself next the pool of still water. This bar -was thrown up on top of the beach by a storm, yet it serves to show how -the sand-bars made under water look. Even on shore you can hear the bars -roaring and moaning all day and night, as the great work of the sea goes -on, never stopping, never hurrying, for centuries after centuries. - - - - -ON CIGARETTE SMOKING. - -BY AN OLD SMOKER - - -I am an old smoker, that is past all doubt; but I was a young smoker as -well. I can remember my first smoke as if it was but yesterday. It was a -fine day in June, and I was about twelve years old. Three of us, all at -about the same advanced period of life, felt a noble ambition to show -ourselves men as soon as possible, and we concluded that, while it might -do for girls to spend their money on candies and pies, every boy who had -any self-respect would prefer the manly pleasure of a smoke. - -We raised about a quarter among us, and bought three clay pipes and some -tobacco. We began to show our manliness at recess. We got behind the -school-house, into the nook of an old snake fence, and lit our pipes. - -The results were terrible. I do not mean the mere flogging we all got -for not being back in school after recess, for in those good old days a -flogging more or less was a thing of no importance. I mean the agony of -head and stomach we endured during this first attempt at manly -enjoyments. I remember how we saw each other getting paler and paler, -how our caps distressed us, how our neckties seemed to choke us, and how -a cold perspiration broke out, how we hung limp and feeble over the -fence, and how we finally lay upon the grass thinking that our last -moments were approaching. - -We did not any of us die, however, and in my case at least much good was -accomplished. My ambitious views were checked, and I never could bear -the smell of tobacco for full ten years. - -There is plenty of evidence to show that the use of tobacco by boys at -the time when they ought to be growing absolutely stunts their growth. -It undoubtedly hurts their digestion. Dr. Hammond says that tobacco -impairs both sight and hearing, and that he has seen several instances -of boys having their eyes seriously, if not incurably, injured by -smoking. - -It should always be borne in mind that many things which a full-grown -man can do without hurting himself may be very harmful to the growing -boy, who requires all his powers to promote his physical development. I -therefore do not say, "Take a vow never to touch tobacco," but I do say, -"Never touch it until you are old enough to know whether you can use it -without injury to yourself." - -Whenever you hear anybody speaking in praise of tobacco, you must -remember he is speaking of tobacco and not of cheap cigars. "Young man," -said an old smoker, "that cigar contains acetic, formic, butyric, -valeric, and proprionic acids, prussic acid, creosote, carbolic acid, -pyrodine, virodine, and cabbagine, and burdockic acid." - -The old gentleman was laying it on too heavy, perhaps, for even a bad -cigar. He was not exaggerating, however, if he was speaking of the -modern cigarette. The cigarettes now sold in every cigar store and in -every street consist chiefly of bad paper, bad tobacco, and dirt. Many -of them contain worse ingredients, such as opium. The effect they -produce when used immoderately is much worse than any results of tobacco -smoking. - -In the famous Polytechnic School of France, the difference between the -pupils who smoked cigarettes and those who did not was so marked that -the use of tobacco was prohibited in all government schools. At the -Naval School at Annapolis, Commodore Parker was so struck with the evil -that he consulted Dr. Hammond in regard to it. The doctor's reply was -that he had no doubt that the smoking of cigarettes was injurious to the -cadets, for he had constant evidence of the fact in his private -practice. - -The paper in which the cheap tobacco is rolled for cigarettes is of poor -quality, producing empyreumatic oil, which contains creosote in large -quantities. The odor they give out is ranker, fouler, and more acrid -than that from a clay pipe. From a cigar to a cigarette the descent is -from the sublime to the ridiculous. - -We are not talking, however, about smoking in general, but about this -modern fashion of cigarette smoking by boys. It is far worse than pipes -or cigars. One old smoker who dropped into poetry occasionally wrote, - - "Smoke not, ingenuous youth, or if you do, - I recommend clay pipes and 'honey-dew.'" - -I would prefer to say, "Smoke not at all, my ingenuous boy; but whatever -you do, smoke no cigarettes." The nicotine will hurt your nervous -system, and by weakening the action of the heart will diminish the force -of the circulation of the blood. Your hands will begin to tremble, your -memory to be affected. You will not be able to enjoy or take part in a -good honest out-of-doors game. You will lose your appetite, as well as -weaken your brain. - -Apart from the inferior quality of the tobacco from which cigarettes are -made, the method of smoking them is the most injurious possible. The -smoke, whether inhaled or blown out through the nostrils, produces -dryness in the fine membrane which lines the mouth, the speaking -apparatus at the head of the windpipe becomes enfeebled, and the voice -loses the sweetness and liquidity of its tones. "Every boy," writes Dr. -Sayre, "who desires to become an orator should never smoke a cigarette." - -And now last but not least, cigarette smoking makes you look ridiculous, -as it shows at once that you are a novice, and do not know good tobacco -from bad. - - - - -THE TALKING LEAVES.[1] - -[1] Began in No. 101, HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. - -An Indian Story. - -BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD. - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Before long, Murray came back with the results of his hunting expedition. - -"A fine fat doe," said Steve, when his friend threw down his game in -front of the fire. - -"Now for a cooking time," replied Murray, "and then we must have a good -nap." - -"I'll do a little eating, too, while I'm cooking." - -Neither of them neglected that duty, but Murray took the two plump -hind-quarters of the doe and roasted them whole. - -How?--with no stove, no oven, no kitchen tools of any sort or -description? - -Two forked sticks were set firmly in the ground on either side, in front -of the fire, and a strong stick laid across from fork to fork at about -four feet from the ground. Then a leg of venison, hung to this -cross-piece by a thong of raw deer-skin, was turned round and round -until the thong would twist no tighter. When it was let go, the weight -of the meat kept it from untwisting too fast. - -This was precisely what our great-grandmothers used to call a -"roasting-jack," and all it required was that somebody should wind it up -when it ran down, so that the meat would be evenly done all over. - -Meantime the broiling and eating of smaller pieces went right on. Their -long ride and hard work had given Steve and Murray both good appetites. - -"Now, Steve, lie down. Sleep all you can." - -"Sha'n't you take a rest?" - -"Don't need much. Young eyes call for more sleep than old ones. Never -mind me. I'll call you when the time comes." - -Steve was used to obeying Murray, and was glad enough to do so now. He -was quickly asleep under a spreading tree, while Murray sat down before -the fire, as if to "mind the roast." - -There was something more important than venison for him to think of, -however. He had taken off his hat, and his white head was bare. With the -strong light of the camp fire shining upon his weather-beaten face, he -would have made a good subject for a painter. - -He was thinking deeply, so deeply that at last he thought aloud: - -"I am a white man. I've been an Indian long enough. Yes, I think I'll -try it. That would be better than killing all the Apaches between this -and the California line." - -He did not explain what it was he meant to try, but the stern expression -on his face grew milder and milder, until it almost seemed as if he were -smiling. Even Steve Harrison had never seen him do that. - -The venison roasts were wound up, twisted tight again and again, and at -last they were taken off. - -"They'll do. I'll give 'em an hour to cool, and then we must be off." - -The hour went by, and then Steve felt himself rudely shaken by the -shoulder. - -"You can't have it," grumbled Steve. "That gold's ours. I killed it -myself, and we're roasting it now." - -"Dreaming, are you? Wake up, Steve. It's time we were moving. We've a -long night ride before us." - -"How late is it?" - -"No watch; can't say exactly. But I reckon we can reach the valley by -sunrise, and not overwork our horses. They're both in good condition." - -The two wiry, swift-footed mustangs, in spite of all they had been -through, were ready now for another long pull, but they were likely to -stand it better in the cool night hours than under the hot sun. In a few -minutes more the two friends were in the saddle. - -They had not ridden far before Murray suddenly exclaimed, - -"I'm going to do a queer thing, Steve Harrison." - -"You won't go back to the Lipans?" - -"Queerer than that. I'm going to ride straight in among that band of -Apaches." - -"What for?" - -"I can't exactly say as yet. Will you go with me?" - -"Anywhere." - -It turned out that Murray was nearly right in his calculation of the -time they would reach the valley. It was just as the light of the -rising sun grew strong and bright that he and Steve stood on the slope -at the lower edge of the forest, and looking through the spy-glass saw -the white tilts of the two wagons of the miners. - -"They've roused up early," said Murray. - -"Looks as if they were setting out on a hunt or a scout." - -"So it does. There they go. Steve, we must ride after those fellows." - -"What for?" - -"To stop 'em. They'll only run their heads against the Apaches, and -leave their camp to be plundered by the Lipans." - -"They're in a trap, Murray." - -"Come on, Steve!" - -But the distance was not less than a couple of miles, and the miners had -prepared beforehand for that "early start." It was all against the will -of Captain Skinner, and the bad temper he was in only made him start -more promptly and ride faster. - -"Tell ye what, boys," he said to the rest, as they galloped on behind -him, "I'll give ye all the scouting you want this morning." - -At that moment Murray was saying, "We must catch those fellows and send -them back. What are they going so fast for? Why, it'll be a regular -race." - -It was very much like one after a little. Steve and Murray rode rapidly, -but it takes a great deal of swift running to catch up with men who have -more than two miles the start. - -"We'll catch 'em, Murray." - -"If we don't, it'll be a bad race for them. I kind o' feel as if the -lives of those men were the prize we're riding for." - -Mile after mile went by, and the excitement of it grew to be something -terrible. - -"The Apaches can't be far ahead of 'em now, Murray." - -"Hark! Hear that?" - -"A rifle-shot! A whoop!" - -"They are pulling up." - -"They'd better. I'm afraid we're too late, Murray." - -"On--on, Steve! Maybe there's time yet." - -Captain Skinner had already seen and heard enough to make him halt, and -he was gathering his men rapidly into close order, when a long, ringing -shout behind him drew his anxious eyes from the dangerous-looking -"signs" now gathering in his front. - -Signs? - -Yes, danger signs. Wild, dark, painted horsemen, riding hither and -thither and nearer and nearer, growing more and more numerous every -moment. - -These were the signs that Many Bears and his warriors meant to stand -between any approaching enemy and the camp of their squaws and children. - -The shout was from Murray. - -"Don't shoot!" - -In a few seconds more the old man was reining in his panting mustang -among the startled and gloomy-faced miners. - -"Where did you drop from?" was the cool, steady question of Skinner. - -"Never you mind. Is Bill here?" - -"He and his two mates are on guard at the camp. I know ye now. You're -them two mining fellers. You met Bill and--" - -"Yes, I met Bill, but there's no time for talk now. You take your men -straight back to camp. It's the only show you've got left." - -"Reckon we can beat off a few beggarly Apaches." - -"Don't talk. Ride for your camp. If you get there before the Lipans do, -take your wagons into the pass, and stay there till they get by. Don't -strike a blow at them. They'd be too much for ye." - -"Lipans? Going for our camp? Boys, 'bout face! Ride for your lives!" - -For so small a man he had a great deal of voice, and his command was -instantly obeyed, but he paused long enough to ask of Steve and Murray, - -"What about you two?" - -"Us? We'll stay and keep the Apaches from chasing you." - -"Won't they scalp you?" - -"Not a bit. But there's one thing you may do. If by any chance you have -a talk with the Lipans, you tell them where you saw us last. Tell the -chief from me that No Tongue and Yellow Head are all right, only their -horses are tired following your trail and the Apaches." - -"Hope I won't meet him. You're the queerest pair I ever saw; but I wish -the boys had let me follow out the word you sent in by Bill." - -"Too late now. Ride out of this the best gait your horse knows." - -This was good advice, and Captain Skinner took it. - -Meanwhile the old man sat quietly in his saddle, with Steve Harrison at -his side, as if they two were quite enough to stem the torrent of fierce -whooping Apaches, sweeping down upon them across the plain. - -"Our lives are worth about as much as our title to that mine," said -Steve; and it was no shame to him that he felt his young heart beat -pretty rapidly. - -"Sling your rifle behind you on the saddle. Fold your arms. Sit still. -I'll do the talking." - -[Illustration: "THE STORM OF DARK HORSEMEN WAS HEADED BY MANY BEARS IN -PERSON."] - -The storm of dark horsemen was headed by Many Bears in person, and it -was barely two minutes more before he was reining in his pony in front -of the two "pale-face Lipans." - -"How!" said Murray, quite heartily, holding out his right hand, with the -open palm up, while he put his left upon his breast. - -"How!" replied the chief, with a little hesitation, but a dozen voices -around him were shouting, - -"Send Warning!" - -"Knotted Cord!" - -"Pale-face friends of Apaches!" - -It was plain that the description given of them by Red Wolf and the -girls had been quite accurate enough for their instant recognition. - -"Other pale-faces run away. Why you stay?" - -"Don't know them. Strangers. Run away from Apache chief. Chief must not -follow." - -"Why not follow?" - -"Run against Lipans. Have big fight. Lose many warriors. All for -nothing. Better go back." - -"Send Warning is a good friend. Do what he say. You come?" - -"Yes. We come. Trust friend." - -Steve listened in silent wonder. He had never heard Murray speak a word -about the Apaches that was not full of distrust of their good faith as -well as hate of their ferocity. Yet here he was treating them with -absolute confidence. Steve felt quite sure he would have hesitated, for -his own part, to meet a band of Lipans in that way. - -He did not understand Indian character as well as Murray, in spite of -his three years among them. A man who came to them conferring benefits, -and betraying no doubt of their good faith, was as safe among them as if -he had been one of their own people. - -It also occurred to Steve that this was hardly what Murray had been sent -out for by To-la-go-to-de, but his devotion to the interests of that -chief was not strong enough to make him care much. - -Whatever might be Murray's intentions, Steve had firmly decided that as -far as he himself was concerned there would be no going back to give any -report of the "scouting." - -The Apaches wheeled toward the west, and Send Warning and Knotted Cord -rode on at the side of Many Bears. - -[TO BE CONTINUED.] - - - - -MR. THOMPSON AND THE BULL-FROG. - -BY ALLAN FORMAN. - - -Mr. Thompson was lying in the shade on the bank of a small pond. He had -come out to read, he said, but no sooner had he thrown himself on the -soft turf than an irresistible desire to sleep came upon him; so, -pillowing his head on his book, he closed his eyes. - -"Cut-a-ka-chunk, cut-a-ka-chunk," croaked a big green frog down in the -pond. - -"I wish you'd keep still," growled Mr. Thompson. - -"He's-goin'-to-sleep, he's-goin'-to-sleep," answered the frog, in a deep -bass voice. - -"Just-hear-him-snore, just-hear-him-snore," piped a little green fellow, -sitting on a lily pad. - -Mr. Thompson was getting angry. "I'm not asleep," he shouted. - -"Don't-you-get-mad, don't-you-get-mad," urged the old frog. - -This was too much. Mr. Thompson sat up and looked around. Directly in -front of him, in the edge of the pond, sat a great bull-frog, dressed in -a green coat, a canary-colored vest, and dark brown knee-breeches. He -winked at Mr. Thompson sociably, and remarked, "How-do-you-do? -how-do-you-do? how-do-you-do?" - -"Pretty well," answered Mr. Thompson; "but I'm very sleepy." - -"Come-take-a-swim," advised the frog, laconically. - -"I would," said Mr. Thompson, hesitating, "only I'm afraid I'd get wet, -and spoil my clothes." - -"Never-hurts-mine, never-hurts-mine," answered the frog, jumping into -the pond and taking a few strokes. - -"But you see my clothes are not like yours," explained Mr. Thompson. - -"Look-just-the-same, look-just-the-same," answered the frog. - -Mr. Thompson looked down at his vest; the white had changed to -lemon-color; his sober black pantaloons were metamorphosed into natty -snuff-colored knee-breeches; and worst of all, his alpaca duster had -become a tight green cut-away coat. - -"If Angelina should see me in this rig, what would she say?" murmured -Mr. Thompson, in despairing tones. - -"Better-come-in, better-come-in," croaked the frog, with something like -a smile on his broad mouth. - -"I guess I will," thought Mr. Thompson, and plunging head first he dived -into the pond. He soon came up with his mouth full of mud. That, of -course, annoyed him, but he was more interested in how the mud got into -his mouth, for, diving as he did, he should have struck the top of his -head. He put his hand up to feel. Horror! instead of touching the top of -his head, he thrust his hand into his mouth. He felt again; _his mouth -was on the top of his head_. He climbed up on a lily pad, and looked at -his reflection in the water. He could hardly believe his eyes; there was -no Mr. Thompson; only a great green and yellow frog. The other frog was -sitting not far off, watching him with an air of amusement. - -"There are some boys on the bridge, and they are going to throw stones -at us," whispered the old frog. Mr. Thompson forgot his sudden change of -appearance, and assuming his most pompous manner, he shouted, -"You-mustn't-do-that, you-mustn't-do-that." - -"You old fool," bellowed the old frog, as he plunged into the water. - -Mr. Thompson thought discretion to be the better part of valor, and -followed. - -"He's gone under," remarked one of the boys, regretfully. "Wouldn't he -have made a splendid fry?" - -Mr. Thompson rose with his nose under a lily pad and shuddered. His -friend came up beside him. "What did you want to speak for when those -boys were there? You only let them know where we were," he said, rather -crossly. "That is the reason we wear green coats, so that we can sit -among the lily pads and not be seen." - -Mr. Thompson replied that he had forgot himself, and spoke without -thinking. "So that's the reason for wearing green coats?" he added. - -"Yes," replied the old frog. "Now you see my son here wears brown long -clothes," he added, pointing to a pollywog that wiggled up to him. "That -is because he stays on the bottom, and if he sees a boy, he keeps still, -and his enemies think that he is a lump of mud or a stone." - -"Ah," said Mr. Thompson, "and green coats have been in fashion for a -long time?" - -"Ever since the days of Homer. Don't you remember in Homer's poem, 'The -Battle of the Frogs and Mice,' he says, 'Green was the suit his arming -heroes chose'?" - -"Oh yes," answered Mr. Thompson. - -"My great-grandfather was in that battle, and my uncle was the original -frog who would a-wooing go," continued the old frog; "but you know he -got eaten up. He was a French frog, I think; at least I never saw an -American frog with an opera hat." - -How much more the old frog would have said Mr. Thompson never knew, for -there on the bank he saw his beloved Angelina, sitting beside his -deserted book, weeping as if her heart would break. - -"I am here, dear one," he shouted. At the same moment he felt a -sensation of dampness, and found himself lying half in the pond. He rose -and accompanied Miss Angelina home; then, after putting on dry clothes, -he related his adventures to a company of his friends. All were -interested except one skeptical young man. - -"But if my story is not true, how did I come in the pond?" argued Mr. -Thompson. - -"You got asleep, and rolled in; then when you felt wet, you dreamed that -you were a frog," said the skeptical young man. - -"That's not at all likely," sniffed Mr. Thompson, indignantly. - -"Likely or not, it's undoubtedly true." - -"Listen," said Mr. Thompson. Then far down in the marsh was heard the -faint sound of the frog's chorus: - - "Thompson-got-wet, Thompson-got-wet-- - Ha, ha, ha, ha; - Guess-he-is-yet, guess-he-is-yet-- - Ha, ha. - Had-to-go-home, had-to-go-home-- - Ha, ha, ha, ha; - He'd-better-not-come, he'd-better-not-come-- - Ha, ha." - -"What do you say to that?" cried Mr. Thompson, shaking his head -triumphantly, as he walked off to bed. - - - - -A SCHOOL RESTAURANT. - - -For most young people, going to school is the great business of life. -Whatever ups and downs may occur in the family, they keep steadily on, -learning lessons, reciting them, getting merits and demerits, and -growing through it all as fast as they can toward the time when they -shall be men and women. - -The ancients--who are so called because when they lived this old world -was young--had a wise saying about a sound mind in a sound body, which -fathers and mothers in these days seem to have quite forgotten, if they -ever heard it. Else how does it happen that Alice and Fanny, who never -have the least appetite in the morning, are permitted to go to school, -after a very slender breakfast, with a few cents in their pockets to buy -lunch; and that Walter and Howard, with their heads full of other -declensions, decline to take even so much as a sandwich, on the plea -that they have no time to eat at noon? - -[Illustration: DISPOSING OF THE CANDY.] - -Growing boys and girls need to eat if they are to be rosy, plump, and -strong. Yet we can not blame children for disliking the usual school -luncheon, which is seldom dainty-looking or inviting to the taste; -sandwiches roughly and thickly cut, the bread clumsily buttered, and the -meat in chunks instead of slices, cake crumbling and soggy, pickles, and -pie that has been wedged into a dinner box for hours, are none of them -the proper food for exhausted brains. - -Of course, where it is possible, a run home between the morning and -afternoon sessions of school, and a nice luncheon at the prettily set -home table, with mamma smiling at the head, are the very best things to -keep children well. Many reasons combine to make this arrangement very -inconvenient, however, for most schools. The necessary prompt -re-assembling after the noon recess would be out of the question where -pupils live, as they frequently do, several miles distant from the -school building. - -[Illustration: LUNCH-HOUR IN AN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.] - -How would you like the idea of a school restaurant of your own, little -folks? On the bill of fare we would have every day nice hot soup, good -home-made bread, both white and brown, baked potatoes, apple sauce, rice -pudding, crisp celery, cold ham, and ripe fruit, served at the order of -the pupil-diner, at a daily cost of a few cents. We think there are -clever women who could manage such an enterprise so that it would pay -them very fair profits, and we are sure that if mammas and papas were -consulted, they would consider it an economy to have their children well -fed every day. It would save an immense amount in doctors' bills to some -households. - -That wonderful machine, the human body, is not unlike a stove, in which -the fire will not keep on burning cheerily unless it is replenished from -time to time with fuel. Now the very worst fuel in the world for the -human stove is composed of pickles on the one hand, and creams and -confections on the other. If the brain is to perform its high offices as -it ought, the stomach must receive due attention. - -After a comfortable luncheon at the school restaurant, we should advise -the boys and girls to petition for a half-hour of merry play -out-of-doors in pleasant weather. Snow-balling, coasting, and skating -would not be amiss, for after the rapid exercise the mind would return -to study not jaded and tired, but fresh and vigorous. In stormy weather -a dance or a half-hour of calisthenics would set the blood to merry -motion in the veins, and we would not see children coming home from -school at four irritable and cross, or so often hear the family doctor -say, "You must take that child from school." - -We would just remind fathers and mothers that at present the only -children who are sure of a good dinner at noon are the little waifs who -go to the industrial schools, and for whom charity provides at least one -hearty meal a day. - -[Illustration: MID-DAY DINNER IN THE SCHOOL RESTAURANT.--DRAWN BY MRS. -JESSIE SHEPHERD.] - - - - -BOY'S HEAD BY GREUZE. - -[See front-page illustration.] - - -This charming head is from a beautiful oil-painting by the great French -painter Greuze, who a century ago was famous for depicting little folks -with his brush and pencil. - -Jean Baptiste Greuze was born in 1725 at Tournus, a little manufacturing -town in the Department of Saône-et-Loire, in the south of France. From -his early boyhood he developed the inclination and taste for art which -later made him one of the first of French painters. His first studies -were made in Lyons, a great manufacturing centre, not very far from his -native town. From Lyons he went to Paris, and was so successful that he -was enabled to fulfill his ambition of visiting Rome, where he pursued -his studies for a considerable period. - -Greuze had the deepest love and affection for children, and was never so -happy as when painting them. For this reason we find that his pictures -are not stiff little photographs of sedate and unnaturally wise young -people, but that they have the frank unconsciousness and joyous serenity -of youth. They are real children, and truth is as essential to greatness -in the world of art as it is to greatness in the human character. - -In his mode of life Greuze was eccentric and unhappy. He had the great -fault of thriftlessness, and carelessness of his personal affairs, and -when he died in 1805, in his eightieth year, he was reduced to a -condition of miserable poverty. It is sad to contemplate so wretched an -end to the life of one whose artistic creations will be admired and -respected as long as art endures. - - - - -THE SCULLION WHO BECAME A SCULPTOR. - -BY GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON. - - -In the little Italian village of Possagno there lived a jolly -stone-cutter named Pisano. He was poor, of course, or he would not have -been a stone-cutter, but he was full of good-humor, and everybody liked -him. - -There was one little boy especially who loved old Pisano, and whom old -Pisano loved more than anybody else in the world. This was Antonio -Canova, Pisano's grandson, who had come to live with him, because his -father was dead, and his mother had married a harsh man, who treated the -little Antonio roughly. - -Antonio was a frail little fellow, and his grandfather liked to have him -near him during his working hours. - -While Pisano worked at stone-cutting, little Canova played at it, and at -other things, such as modelling in clay, drawing, etc. The old -grandfather, plain, uneducated man as he was, soon discovered that the -pale-faced little fellow at his side had something more than an ordinary -child's dexterity at such things. - -The boy knew nothing of art or of its laws, but he fashioned his lumps -of clay into forms of real beauty. His wise grandfather, seeing what -this indicated, hired a teacher to give him some simple lessons in -drawing, so that he might improve himself if he really had the artistic -ability which the old man suspected. Pisano was much too poor, as he -knew, ever to give the boy an art-education and make an artist of him, -but he thought that Antonio might at least learn to be a better -stone-cutter than common. - -As the boy grew older, he began to help in the shop during the day, -while in the evening his grandmother told him stories or sang or recited -poetry to him. All these things were educating him, though without his -knowing it, for they were awakening his taste and stimulating his -imagination, which found expression in the clay models that he loved to -make in his leisure hours. - -It so happened that Signor Faliero, the head of a noble Venetian family, -and a man of rare understanding in art, had a palace near Pisano's -house, and at certain seasons the nobleman entertained many -distinguished guests there. When the palace was very full of visitors, -old Pisano was sometimes hired to help the servants with their tasks, -and the boy Canova, when he was twelve years old, sometimes did -scullion's work there also for a day when some great feast was given. - -On one of these occasions, when the Signor Faliero was to entertain a -very large company at dinner, young Canova was at work over the pots and -pans in the kitchen. The head servant made his appearance, just before -the dinner hour, in great distress. - -The man who had been engaged to furnish the great central ornament for -the table had, at the last moment, sent word that he had spoiled the -piece. It was now too late to secure another, and there was nothing to -take its place. The great vacant space in the centre of the table -spoiled the effect of all that had been done to make the feast artistic -in appearance, and it was certain that Signor Faliero would be sorely -displeased. - -But what was to be done? The poor fellow whose business it was to -arrange the table was at his wits' end. - -While every one stood dismayed and wondering, the begrimed scullion boy -timidly approached the distressed head servant, and said, - -"If you will let me try, I think I can make something that will do." - -"You!" exclaimed the servant; "and who are you?" - -"I am Antonio Canova, Pisano's grandson," answered the pale-faced little -fellow. - -"And what can you do, pray?" asked the man, in astonishment at the -conceit of the lad. - -"I can make you something that will do for the middle of the table," -said the boy, "if you'll let me try." - -The servant had little faith in the boy's ability, but not knowing what -else to do, he at last consented that Canova should try. - -Calling for a large quantity of butter, little Antonio quickly modelled -a great crouching lion, which everybody in the kitchen pronounced -beautiful, and which the now rejoicing head servant placed carefully -upon the table. - -The company that day consisted of the most cultivated men of -Venice--merchants, princes, noblemen, artists, and lovers of art--and -among them were many who, like Faliero himself, were skilled critics of -art-work. - -When these people were ushered in to dinner their eyes fell upon the -butter lion, and they forgot for what purpose they had entered the -dining-room. They saw there something of higher worth in their eyes than -any dinner could be, namely, a work of genius. - -They scanned the butter lion critically, and then broke forth in a -torrent of praises, insisting that Faliero should tell them at once what -great sculptor he had persuaded to waste his skill upon a work in butter -that must quickly melt away. But Signor Faliero was as ignorant as they, -and he had, in his turn, to make inquiry of the chief servant. - -When the company learned that the lion was the work of a scullion, -Faliero summoned the boy, and the banquet became a sort of celebration -in his honor. - -But it was not enough to praise a lad so gifted. These were men who knew -that such genius as his belonged to the world, not to a village, and it -was their pleasure to bring it to perfection by educating the boy in -art. Signor Faliero himself claimed the right to provide for young -Antonio, and at once declared his purpose to defray the lad's expenses, -and to place him under the tuition of the best masters. - -The boy whose highest ambition had been to become a village -stone-cutter, and whose home had been in his poor old grandfather's -cottage, became at once a member of Signor Faliero's family, living in -his palace, having everything that money could buy at his command, and -daily receiving instruction from the best sculptors of Venice. - -But he was not in the least spoiled by this change in his fortunes. He -remained simple, earnest, and unaffected. He worked as hard to acquire -knowledge and skill in art as he had worked to become a dexterous -stone-cutter. - -Antonio Canova's career from the day on which he moulded the butter into -a lion was steadily upward; and when he died, in 1822, he was not only -one of the most celebrated sculptors of his time, but one of the -greatest, indeed, of all time. - - - - -THE LITTLE DOLLS' DRESSMAKER--(_Continued._) - -ADAPTED FROM CHARLES DICKENS. - -BY MRS. ZADEL B. GUSTAFSON. - - -"How's my Jenny?" the man stammered, looking down at the tiny creature -in her chair. Jenny never looked so little as when she was alone with -her father. "How's my Jenny Wren, best of children?" - -"Go away," said the little voice, sharp and harsh with pain and shame. -"Go away to your corner." She held her hands up between them. - -This father, who did nothing for his child, except to make her feel -ashamed and grieved, shook from head to foot as he stood before her. His -cheeks were blotched with patches of dull yellow and patches of dark -red. His clothes were so torn and worn they hardly held together on him, -and when he tried to put up his hand to his scanty gray hair, he made -all sorts of motions with it before he could get it to his head. - -How do you think it would seem to you, my happy children of good and -loving parents, to look on such a man as this, miserable and shameful -from head to foot, and brought to such ruin by himself, and then have to -say to yourself, "It is my father"? - -The children on the street laughed and hooted at him as he came -staggering home to his little lame daughter. But, oh! it wasn't funny to -little Jenny Wren. - -She pointed to the chair that stood against the wall, farthest away from -her own, and he went past it two or three times before he could reach it -and sit down. - -"Oh, you bad child!" cried Jenny, in a broken voice. "Come, come, you -know what I'm waiting for. If there's any money left, let me take care -of it. Put it here," striking the arm of her chair; "all you have left; -every cent." - -If Jenny had not spoken sharply, even crossly, she could not have made -her "child" mind at all. - -He fumbled with his pockets, which looked so much like the other holes -in his clothes, and at last he stumbled toward her and laid down a few -coins. - -"Is this all?" Jenny asked. It was very little. - -"All; got no more; gentleman's word for it." - -Lizzie heard most of this sad scene in her little room overhead, and -when she heard the father go groping up the stairs, and fall heavily on -his bed in the room next to hers, she hurried down to Jenny with her -heart full of pity and love. - -"What are you thinking of, Jenny darling?" she said, laying her hand on -the bright hair which was now shaken down over the small misshapen -shoulders, and covered the whole tiny figure with its soft yellow waves. - -"I was thinking," said Jenny, with her small chin in her hands, "what I -would do to _him_ if he should turn out to be a drunkard." - -"Him" always meant the husband little Jenny firmly believed was some -time going to come for her and take her out of all her trouble. - -"Oh, but he won't," said Lizzie, cheerfully. "You'll take care of that -beforehand." - -"Yes, I shall try to take care of it beforehand; but, Lizzie, you know, -he might deceive me. Oh, my dear, I _couldn't_ bear it in _him_. I would -do some dreadful thing to him--I know I should." - -"No, you wouldn't, dear." - -"Well," said the little creature, after a pause, and speaking in her -softer voice again, "you generally know best, Lizzie; but, oh! you -haven't got a bad child to make you sick and tired!" And then the poor -little dolls' dressmaker cried with her head on Lizzie's shoulder. - - * * * * * - -One day Lizzie had a holiday, and she and Jenny set out to walk into the -city by the pleasant river-side. Lizzie carried Jenny's little -scrap-basket on her arm, and they were in luck, for a man driving a -market wagon saw the small figure and the crutch, with the beautiful -hair flowing around them, and stopped his horses, nodded respectfully to -Lizzie, and asked if they wouldn't like a lift. So they rode into -London. - -"You'll like my fairy godmother," said Jenny, after the teamster put -them down, as they went along the narrow street of St. Mary Axe. "He has -a very nice old face and a long white beard." - -"He!" said Lizzie, wondering. - -"Oh yes, he!" Jenny answered, promptly. "A man can be a godmother if -he's the right kind, can't he?" - -They stopped in front of a yellow house with the blinds drawn down. -Jenny struck the door smartly with her crutch, and it was opened by a -man in an old-fashioned coat with long skirts and wide pockets. He was -old; the top of his head was bald and shining, and long gray hair -beginning just above his ears flowed down and mixed with his beard. - -"It's a holiday, godmother," said Jenny, smiling at him, "and I've -brought my Lizzie-Mizzie-Wizzie I've told you of, you know. Godmother's -name's Riah," she added, turning to Lizzie. - -The old man bowed very low to Lizzie, and helped Jenny over the sill. - -"I've come for more waste," said Jenny, meaning the remnants of lace, -ribbon, beads, and other finery, which with other odd things were on -sale in the shop where this quiet old man was the clerk. - -He led them into this shop at the back of the house, and when Jenny had -picked out and paid for what she needed, she said, - -"Now take us up to your garden, godmother. We've got all day, and -there's some lunch, and Lizzie's going to read to me. Come." - -The old man looked pleased, and went before them to the second floor, -and then up a narrow flight of steps to a door in the roof. Pushing this -door aside, he came down and carried Jenny up, and Lizzie followed. - -As they came out upon the roof, a light cool wind caught up Jenny's -bright hair, and Lizzie exclaimed, "How kind you are, Mr. Riah, to let -us come up here!" - -And it was a pleasant place. - -An old canvas awning stretched between three of the chimneys made a nice -shade, without shutting out the view on any side. A square of -bright-colored carpet was spread on the roof under the awning; around -the big blackened chimney a green creeper had been trained, and together -with some boxes of evergreens and flowers made the place look and smell -like a garden. - -The girls sat down, and invited Mr. Riah to sit by them, and have some -of the fruit and sandwiches they had brought. But just as he was about -to do this, a thin, fretful voice called out from below, - -"Where are you, old chap?" - -"It's my master," said Mr. Riah, hurrying away. - -"His master!" repeated Lizzie, in surprise. - -Jenny nodded her head, and looked vexed. - -"Godmother's poor," said she, "but a good fairy for all that. This ain't -his place, and these ain't his things I buy. He works for somebody else, -just as we do, and somebody else gets the most of him, just as they get -the most of us, Lizzie-Mizzie-Wizzie. Never saw the man, but I suspect -he's a beast." - -"Sh! they're coming," said Lizzie. - -The old man, followed by a young slim man with a thin foxy face, came -out upon the roof. Lizzie rose, with her book in her hand. - -"I can't get up, whoever you are," said Jenny, promptly, "because my -back's bad and my legs are queer." - -"This is my master, Mr. Fledgeby," said Mr. Riah, as he came forward. - -"Don't look like anybody's master," exclaimed Jenny. - -"This, sir," the old man went on, "is a little dressmaker for little -people.--Explain to the master, Jenny." - -"Dressmaker for dolls," said Jenny, hitching her chin and her eyes with -that look which made her seem so old and sharp and wise. "They're very -difficult to fit, too, Mr. Master Fledgeby, because their figures are so -uncertain; you never know where to expect their waists." - -"This is the little one's friend," said Mr. Riah, pointing to Lizzie. -"Worthy girls both, sir. They are busy early and late, and at times, -when they have a holiday, they take to book-learning." - -"Not much good to be got out of that," said Mr. Fledgeby. - -"Depends upon the person," exclaimed Jenny, with a snap of her teeth, -that made it seem as if her eyes snapped too. - -"The way I came to know them," said the old man, "was by Miss Jenny's -coming to buy of our remnants and waste for her work." - -"She's been buying that basketful to-day, I suppose, then?" Mr. Fledgeby -asked. - -"I suppose she has," cried Jenny, with another little snap, "and paying -for it too, most likely." - -"Let's have a look at it," said the foxy-faced young man. "How much for -this, now?" - -"Two precious silver shillings. Put it down, please; it's paid," Jenny -said. - -He set the basket down, but not until he had poked his finger about in -it. - -"Do _you_ buy anything here, miss?" - -"No, sir," said Lizzie. - -"Do you _sell_ anything?" - -"No, sir." - -Jenny put up her hand, and pulled Lizzie down beside her. - -"We come here to rest, sir. It roars down there," waving her hand toward -the city, "and it sometimes smokes up here," lightly touching the big -chimney where she sat. "But it's so high, and you see the clouds rushing -on above the narrow streets, and you feel as if you were dead." - -"How do you feel when you are dead?" asked Mr. Fledgeby, staring at her -in surprise. - -"Oh, full of peace and thankfulness," said the little creature, smiling. -"You don't work, you just rest, and you hear the people who are alive -crying and working and calling to one another down in the close, dark, -noisy streets, and you pity them, for the burden has fallen off from -you, and you feel so strange, so easy, and light." - -They all looked at her in silence. - -[Illustration: "I THOUGHT I SAW YOU COME UP OUT OF YOUR GRAVE."] - -"Why, it is only just now," she said, turning to old Mr. Riah, "that I -thought I saw you come up out of your grave. You came up through the -dark narrow door in the roof, and you were all bent over, and hot and -tired; but then you took a breath, and stood up straight, and looked -round at the sky, and the wind blew your white beard on your breast, and -your life down in the dark was over--until _you_ called him back to -life." - -Her voice changed as she said these last words with a sudden little snap -at Mr. Fledgeby. "_Why_ did you call him back? _You_ are not dead, you -know. Go down to life." She pointed one little forefinger, and turned -her small head, and shook her bright hair, and looked wonderfully like a -small cunning bird of much golden plumage. - -As they started to go down, she caught at Mr. Riah's long gown. "Don't -be gone long," said she. "Come back and be dead." And they heard the -sweet voice following after, more and more faintly, half calling, half -singing, "Come up and be dead, come up and be dead." - -"My dear," said Jenny that night, when they were at home again and going -to bed, "the master _is_ a beast, and he wants to eat up my godmother," -which was the little creature's odd way of saying that she felt sure old -Mr. Riah worked very hard for very little money under the foxy-faced -young man he called his master. - -[TO BE CONTINUED.] - - - - -[Illustration] - -DOT'S LETTER. - - - Here's a picture of Dot - As she sat at her ease - With a letter she'd got. - "Dear Dot," it began, - "We so want you to come! - 'Twas to-day we began - Our new plan of 'At Home.' - - "There is Mollie and me - And our new dolls, you know, - Whom you're certain to see. - We give plum-cake at tea, - Besides sweets when you go. - Your friend I remain, - With much love, as you know." - - - - -THE REHEARSAL. - - - A duet, if you please, between Norman and Grace; - Sister Olive is player; she's there in her place; - Tiny Grace is Soprano, and Norman is Bass. - -[Illustration] - - Little Grace is so eager she can not keep time, - But runs on ahead without reason or rhyme. - - "Sing slower!" cries Norman; "it is not a race; - Still slower, Soprano, and _do_ keep your place." - - "It is Olive," says Gracie; "what _is_ she about? - She waited too long there, and quite put me out." - - "No, indeed," answers Olive, that mark means a 'rest'; - You don't understand, Grace--indeed I know best." - - "Try again. Ah! that's better, by far than before; - Now if people were here, they would cry out 'Encore,' - Which means, you know, Gracie, 'Please sing it once more.'" - - - - -"A MAN OF STRAW." - - -[Illustration] - - Finch and Goldie, - Redpole fine, - In the corn field - Came to dine. - - "Oh! what is that?" - They startled cry, - All in a flutter - Rushing by. - - "Look, silly birds, - And you will know - It can not hurt," - Cawed Father Crow. - - "Tis but a thing - 'Gainst nature's law, - Only a sham-- - 'A man of straw.'" - - - - -THE BATH-ROOM. - - - Cries Tom, in the bath, "I'm a seal at the Zoo." - Says Ted, on the rug, "Then I'm glad I'm not you." - "Ah, but, Ted," answers Tommy, "you know you're my brother; - And if _I_ am a seal, why, you _must_ be another!" - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.] - - -We want to tell you a little story, by way of introducing the letters -this week. The other day three boys we know went off for an afternoon's -skating. The ice was as smooth as glass, and they flew over it like the -wind, sometimes describing great circles, sometimes spinning around like -tops, then cutting all sorts of pretty fancy figures, and again racing -along as fast as their skates could go. - -After a while Fred paused for breath. On the bank of the pond he saw a -schoolmate, who was watching the sport with wistful eyes. - -"I declare, boys," said Fred to Harry and Phil, "I don't believe that -fellow has had a chance to skate this winter. He hasn't any skates, I'm -sure." - -"Skates?--not he. A good many days, I'm afraid, he don't get any -dinner," answered Harry, as he finished a splendid pigeon-wing. - -"Well"--Fred smothered a little sigh as he spoke, but he spoke -bravely--"I think it's mean for us to have so much fun while he has -none, and here goes! I say, Dan," he shouted to the boy on the bank, -"come, take a turn on the ice. I'll lend you my skates awhile." - -Dan needed a little urging, but the other boys, who liked their comrade -none the less because he happened to be poorer than themselves, -insisted, and the rest of the time he was among the skaters instead of -Fred. - -They all went home happier than usual, for those who do kind things are -always repaid by the double delight they feel, and those who accept -kindness gracefully are the happier for it too. How many of you boys and -girls are enjoying the luxury of helping others along the way? We like -to think that every day some of you are making the world gladder by -simply doing the best you can wherever you happen to be. Do not wait for -the chance to distinguish yourselves by great deeds, but seize the -little opportunities as they come. It may be only amusing a fretful -child, or helping a dull one to learn a hard lesson, or sewing a rip in -an unlucky brother's gloves, or, as these three little fellows did, -loaning a pair of skates, but believe me no unselfish action is ever -done in vain. - - * * * * * - - PALMYRA, NEW YORK. - - I have a nice auntie in Washington, who sends me YOUNG PEOPLE every - week, and I have all but the first six numbers. I was out at - Shortsville this summer visiting my cousins; and while I was there - we had the play given in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 92, "Mother Michel and - Her Cat," and it was a great success. I was Mother Michel. - - I have a toy Mr. Stubbs, sent me by a kind gentleman in Washington - who had read the story of "Toby Tyler." We have three birds-- But - there! I must not write any more, for if I do I fear my letter will - be too long to publish, and I want it to be printed, as I would - like to surprise my auntie. I am glad Mr. Otis is having so good a - time with his little yacht. - - MINA L. C. - - * * * * * - -The little people who, like Mina, wish Mr. Otis a pleasant voyage, will -be glad to read another letter from his pen: - - ON THE PASQUOTANK. - - Since it is neither a large nor important water-course, some of the - readers of YOUNG PEOPLE may not know where the Pasquotank River is; - but as it can readily be found on the map, those who care to read - more about the cruise of the _Toby Tyler_ should learn about it - from their books, in order to better understand the direction taken - by the little yacht after it came out of the Dismal Swamp. It will - be remembered that the yacht arrived at the terminus of the canal - quite late at night, so that it was impossible for any of the party - to judge of the river they were to enter; but they had been told it - was very crooked, and, without any other reason, all believed the - journey of twenty-three miles to Elizabeth City would be a tedious - one. - - Never were travellers more pleasantly surprised than were those on - the _Toby_ during that Saturday morning sail. - - The start was made about eight o'clock, just after the birds had - cleared the breakfast things away, and were beginning their - forenoon concert. The large audience, composed of the crickets, - flowers, and leaves, were all in the best of moods, because the - singing was really good, as well as in perfect harmony, and - everything around was as bright and gay as possible, save, perhaps, - the steward, who had fallen against the boiler and burned one of - his ears. - - The first two miles sailed after the last canal lock had been - passed was not different from the trip through the swamp, for the - little stream which ran into the river from the canal had been - widened and straightened until it had almost ceased to be a natural - water-course. But when the yacht glided around a sharp curve of the - stream into the river, each one rubbed his eyes to assure himself - that he was awake, and not dreaming of some land enchanted by the - perfume and beauty of the flowers that were everywhere in the - greatest profusion. They had crept to the very tops of the tallest - trees, and then reaching down to the water, had left behind long, - beautifully colored wreaths; they hung from every branch, and - peeped from behind each tree trunk, disputing possession with the - long gray moss, that seemed suddenly to have grown pale because of - the almost overpowering perfume. Each side of the river seemed to - be a bank of flowers, from out of which the branches of the trees - rose like stems, while one could almost fancy the country one - immense dish of water, in which flowers had been placed profusely, - and that the wind had blown them apart, leaving a narrow channel - for the yacht. - - In the midst of such beauty the _Toby_ seemed suddenly to have - grown dingy-looking and dirty, and although she was at once decked - out in her brightest flags and most brilliant adornments, the - flowers put to blush any such feeble attempts at beautifying. - - There was no question as to the truth of the statement that the - river was crooked; it was much as if some one had marked out a - number of W's, into which the water had flowed. It was necessary to - sail almost directly first toward one bank, and then back, in the - opposite direction, to the other, in order to keep in the channel; - but no one regretted the devious course that made the journey - longer, since the way was through the flower-trimmed trees on water - so smooth and mirror-like that the foliage appeared as if painted - on it. - - Sometimes, when sailing around a bend in the river, the voyagers - would come suddenly upon the gnarled and bleached trunk of some - gigantic tree that uprose from amid the blooming forest like a - withered stalk in a bouquet, causing everything around it to look - more bright and cheerful because of the contrast. - - There had been times during the journey when the yacht did not move - through the water fast enough to satisfy some of the party, but - during this sail there was not one who did not regret he was - leaving so quickly a river so beautiful as this. - - Although the Pasquotank is a charming stream throughout its entire - course, its banks are not thus literally lined with flowers more - than ten miles, but after that the scenery is sufficiently - beautiful to make it interesting without approaching so near to - enchantment. - - When the _Toby_ was about ten miles from Elizabeth City a - draw-bridge was seen just ahead. It was not different from most - other bridges, and yet it was approached with wonder and curiosity, - for on it were nearly as many negroes as could be crowded there - without too much risk that some of them would fall overboard. There - were old men and women, young men and girls, and children of all - ages, from a good-sized boy down to the tiniest and blackest of - darky babies. Perhaps they were surprised at seeing the little - yacht coming so swiftly toward them; certain it is that those on - the _Toby_ were surprised at seeing such a company, and awaited the - meeting with no small degree of curiosity. - - "Is yer gwine ter 'Liz'beth?" asked an old gray-headed darky, as he - opened the draw of the bridge cautiously, as if he feared the yacht - might escape him if he made ready for her coming too quickly. - - On being told that the yacht was on her way to Elizabeth, he, - assisted by nearly all present, told the reason of the assembling. - They were all anxious to reach the city in order to attend a - Conference which was to be held on the following day; the steamer, - due some hours earlier, had not arrived, and they were waiting for - her with many fears as to whether she would come during the day. As - soon as the story had been told, the entire party began to plead - that they be taken on board the _Toby_, with a force and - earnestness that resulted in a terrible din. - - There was not room enough on the little boat for one-tenth of the - would-be passengers; but it was almost impossible to convince the - anxious ones of that most palpable fact, and after every one on the - yacht had screamed himself nearly hoarse in the effort, they were - made to understand that but five of the party could be taken. It - was comical, the sight they presented as they tried to decide as to - whom the fortunate ones should be; each one urged that he or she - was most needed at the Conference, and as each was overruled by the - rest, they would loudly urge their claims to the party on the - yacht, one old man proposing that he be taken on board, "an' leave - der odder fool niggers ter fight it out." - - It was fully half an hour before the question was decided, and then - the _Toby_ went on her way, with an addition to her passenger list - in the shape of five as happy and inquisitive darkies as ever - sailed down the Pasquotank Paver. They peered in at the cabin, - careful not to touch anything, but anxious to see all the little - room contained; they examined the machinery in the engine-room - critically, while the oldest tried to explain how the boat could be - propelled by the confusing-looking assortment of steel rods and - bars. Then they went forward, where they gave themselves up to the - enjoyment of the hour, as enthusiastic in their praise of the - little steamer as one could wish they should be. After their - delight had subsided in a measure, they began to be troubled about - the amount they might be called upon to pay for their passage, but - all their joy returned when they were told no money would be - received. From that moment they were as happy as children, and - insisted on singing a great number of camp-meeting songs as a means - of showing their gratitude. - - It was ten o'clock when the _Toby_ was made fast to the dock at - Elizabeth City, where the passengers were landed, evidently sorry - to leave the little boat, even though it was to a Conference they - were going. - - JAMES OTIS. - - * * * * * - - GERMANTOWN, PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA. - - I sent you a letter a little while ago, but when I read in the last - number about somebody seeing a dandelion on December 9, I thought I - would write and tell you that to-day my cousin came in, and holding - up a dandelion, said, "Look at that!" We have a pet cat. I went - skating last Monday, and saw a man break through the ice. - - W. S. N. - - * * * * * - - WOODSIDE, NEAR LINCOLNTON, NORTH CAROLINA. - - MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,--There are so many things I want to talk to - you about that I am almost afraid to begin this letter, for fear I - may take up too much room in the precious columns of the - Post-office Box. - - Our great feast and Christmas pleasure is over. The tree, thanks to - your dear, generous, kind little hearts, was a perfect success. We - had some nice garments of clothing for them all, toys and books for - the children, and candy for every one. They were so happy! I would - have given almost anything to have had you all here to see the tree - you had done so much to make, and to see the happy school. Some - little ones who were so eager to taste it, and could not get into - their candy quickly enough, sucked the sweet through the lace bags - that it was in. In fact, we were all very happy; as my children - said, it was the "best part" of Christmas to us all. - - More new scholars keep coming all the time. We want to start a - school also for the many poor little white children, who need one - as badly as the colored ones did; so you see I will have use for - the books, papers, and all the other things you may send. - - I must thank the lady who sent the presents to my own family; also - thanks for the _Scribner_ and _Nation_ sent me; and, once more, - thanks to the little boy who sent me the pretty Christmas card. The - work on the school building will begin immediately. I will write - you when we have it done. I have kept all your names; they are all - to go in there in paint on tablets. I have not quite decided _how_. - I will write you again when it is done, for I am going to do that - part myself. Packages, Sunday-school papers, and cards have come - from kind hearts and hands in many places, and in every instance - have been appreciated and used where they were needed. The one cent - sent by many little children was accepted with much pleasure, as - were the nice large boxes of clothing, candy, and toys sent by many - kind ladies. Uncle Pete was radiant when he came to wish a Happy - New Year in his nice suit that had grown on the tree for him, with - all the others in their nice wristlets, mitts, and the other - welcome gifts that they received. They have been smiling ever since - Christmas. Adieu, dear friends. - - Truly yours, - MRS. RICHARDSON. - -Mrs. Richardson inclosed as usual a list of the names of the kind -friends who make her their almoner, but we have not room for it among -the good things which crowd the Post-office Box this week. They will -each please accept her general acknowledgment as intended to include -every individual. - - * * * * * - - FAYETTE, NEW YORK. - - I am a little boy six years old. I have not taken HARPER'S YOUNG - PEOPLE very long, but I like it very much. I have a pet cat which I - call Nero. I have also nine bantams; one I call Gyp, and I often - bring him in the house and set him on the back of a chair, and then - I say to him, "Crow, Gyp," and then he crows very loud. My pa has a - farm about two miles from the village where we live. We often drive - over there, and I enjoy it very much. I have no brothers nor - sisters, but I have a nice little playmate named Edward, who lives - across the street. I am just beginning to write a little, but not - well enough to write myself, so I told mamma what to write. - - ROY H. - - * * * * * - - OAKDALE, PENNSYLVANIA. - - I thought I would write you a letter and tell you of two nice - games, one for in and the other for out doors. The one for the - house is called "Going to Jerusalem." One person plays the piano, - or makes some kind of a noise. Place the chairs in a row across the - room, every other chair in an opposite direction, one less than - there are players to go round the chairs, and when the music stops, - each player must sit down, and of course one will be left out. Then - one chair is taken away, and the person who could not get seated - can not play any more, and so on until there are but two players - going round one chair, and the one who gets seated goes to - Jerusalem, and wins the game. - - The other is called, "I Spy the Wolf." One is wolf, and the others - hide their eyes and count, and the wolf hides, and when done - counting they go and hunt the wolf, who when spied runs and tries - to tag somebody before they tag base, and if so, both are wolf. - When the wolf is spied, the person must say, "I spy the wolf," and - run and tag base. The game is finished when all are wolf. - - I am ten years old. I found two dandelions to-day, January 9. - - MARY E. O. - - * * * * * - - PALATKA, FLORIDA. - - I live on the St. John's River, opposite Palatka. We have a fine - orange grove. We are having bananas this winter, although most of - our neighbors lost theirs by the cold last winter. We will have - plenty of guavas next summer if we don't have a "freeze," and I - hope we may not. I wish some of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE were - here; we would have lots of fun. I have a puppy three months old. - His name is Toby Tyler. I hope Mr. Otis will come to Palatka with - his boat. I am nine years old. - - T. ROBERT P. - - * * * * * - -We hope the bright eyes that have been watching for the flowers that -this mild winter has made, like Ben Buttles, "dretful venturesome," will -before many weeks of ice and snow be reporting from the South first, and -afterward from colder localities, the earliest out-peeping of the spring -darlings. There is a stanza of Mrs. Whitney's which we like very much: - - "God does not send us strange flowers every year; - When the spring winds blow o'er the pleasant places, - The same dear things lift up the same sweet faces, - The violet is here." - -We must have storm and snow first, dears; but courage! the violets will -be here by-and-by. - - * * * * * - - CALUMET, MICHIGAN. - - Will you make room for another stranger?--one who from her cold - Northern home, wishes to come into a corner of the Post-office Box - to be warmed and comforted. Will not some of the writers to the - Post-office Box tell of their Christmas vacations, and how Santa - Claus treated them on his journey round the world Christmas-eve? - - We have a debating society here, in which all the boys and girls, - and grown folks too, are very much interested. We meet once a week, - and have, besides the debate, one or two essays, a reading, - declamations, and music, and altogether have a very enjoyable time. - - Then we go skating on the lake, and coast on the terrific-looking - hill behind the town. We go with our sleds to the top of the hill, - and slide all the way down, and away out on the lake, without - stopping. - - We have a very pleasant school, too. Where the boats come in, in - the summer, we can look right down over the town, and see - everything that is going on. - - RAY R. - - * * * * * - - BUFFALO, NEW YORK. - - I am a little boy three years old. Have taken YOUNG PEOPLE from the - first number. Mamma reads the stories and letters, and tells me - about them, and I am every day measuring myself to be big and do my - own reading. On the 26th of December we saw dandelions peeping out - of the grass, and looking out to Lake Erie, wondering what had - become of all the boats of last summer. Mamma had a bunch of cherry - blossoms on New-Year's Day. One of our neighbors cut a bunch from a - cherry-tree in November. The buds were very large then, after the - warm rains. The water was changed every day; now it is covered with - blossoms, and the leaves are coming out. - - I have a little sister Ruby, and we have great fun together. When - papa brings YOUNG PEOPLE, he takes her on his lap; then she teases - to have me get up, and says, "Come, Bover," and "Up, Bover," and - will not look at the pictures until I am up too. Then we enjoy them - together. Mamma is writing this for me. I hope soon to write for - myself. A Happy New Year to HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE! - - ERNEST. - - * * * * * - -C. Y. P. R. U. - -"OLD MORTALITY."--Sir Walter Scott's novel of _Old Mortality_ is one of -the recognized masterpieces of English literature. Its scenes are laid -in Scotland during the reign of Charles the Second and James, his -successor, a period which was characterized by intense religious -excitement, and fiery struggles between the Royalists, on the one hand, -and the Covenanters, or Presbyterians, on the other. In this novel -Colonel Grahame, of Claverhouse, cool, dauntless, and insensible to -pity, is one of the central figures. There is a tender love-story -running through the book, but its main interest, after all, is derived -from its splendid descriptions of battles and forays, which stir the -blood to enthusiasm, and rouse the martial impulse which is latent in -the most tranquil natures. The third, fourth, and fifth chapters of _Old -Mortality_ are full of power, and of that vivid word-painting which is -the highest style of writing. They possess the Homeric quality of -dramatic movement and majestic strength, and for reading aloud on a -chill winter night, when the wind is raging outside and the fire is -bright within, they are surpassed by nothing else that the Postmistress -remembers. - -"Old Mortality" himself is scarcely an ideal character, as Sir Walter -drew his portrait from a peasant who for thirty years wandered through -the western districts of Ayr, Galloway, and Dumfries, spending his time -in freshening the inscriptions on the graves of the martyrs. Mounted on -a gaunt white pony, his gray locks straggling beneath an immense blue -"bonnet," his old coat of hodden-gray the worse for years of hard -service, his feet incased in hobnailed shoes, and his limbs covered with -leggings of strong black cloth, this old man, whose real name was Robert -Paterson, went from one church-yard to another among the wild moors and -lonely hills, removing the moss from the rude tombstones, and deepening -the fading letters with his chisel. He lived from house to house, -entertained by hospitable farmers, who revered him, and finally, when -very aged, was found expiring upon the highway, his faithful white pony -standing on guard by his side. - - * * * * * - -WILLIE F.--Your idea that time spent in the study of the dead languages -is lost time, and that you would prefer to devote yourself wholly to -your native tongue, is perhaps a natural one, but it is based on an -error. Latin and Greek are dead languages in the sense that they are not -spoken in any land by living people to-day. But they are not dead in the -sense of having lost their vitality. They enter largely into our modern -languages, and no one can be a precise and thorough scholar in English -without some acquaintance with Latin at least. Study your Latin grammar -patiently, as your teacher advises, and though you do not yourself see -what good it will do you, believe me that after a while you will find -yourself repaid. There are some things which we must acquire by way of -discipline, for it is the disciplined mind which does the best work with -ease, just as the trained soldier can march farther and fight better -than the raw recruit. - - * * * * * - -The Postmistress is fond of looking up the history of words. Some common -words have a very curious history. For instance, demijohn, a glass -bottle covered with basket-work, is a sort of puzzler. Why is it -demijohn? Why John at all? Or if John, why half-john? The truth is, it -has nothing to do with John; but was first manufactured at a town called -Damaghan, in Khorassan, a province of Persia, a place once renowned for -its glass-workers.--Calico, which is so dainty and pretty, and which the -little girls wear to school in summer, derives its name from Calicut in -India, from which handsome cotton goods were once imported to England. - - * * * * * - -There are two articles in this paper that we want the members of the -C. Y. P. R. U. to read, because they will add to the stock of solid and -valuable information that the society is endeavoring to store away in -eager, appreciative minds, viz., "The Waves at Work," by Mr. Charles -Barnard, and "The Scullion who became a Sculptor," by Mr. George Cary -Eggleston. But there are two others that we want the boys and girls to -make the basis of prompt and energetic action. To begin with, we want -the article "On Cigarette Smoking" to produce such an impression that -the stoves and ranges in all houses inhabited by the coming men of the -next generation shall have a grand smoke, consuming in the operation all -the compounded horrors in the way of bad paper, bad tobacco, dirt, -opium, etc., that we now see defiling lips and destroying the nerve and -brain power of the gallant lads to whom the world will soon look for the -wit, the wisdom, the sagacity and the command, that shall keep her -moving in the right direction. Then we want nobody to omit the sketch of -"A School Restaurant," with its pretty illustrations. Papas and mammas -do not like to say no when their pets ask them for pocket-money, and the -pocket-money is nearly sure to go to the confectioner's till. Suppose -you all ask your parents and teachers to consider our idea of a school -dinner nicely served every day. Most of you are sensible folk, and know -just as well as your physicians, or the Postmistress does how much -brighter, better, and rosier you would feel and look if you could have a -hearty nourishing meal to sustain you through the labors and pleasures -of the latter half of the day. - - * * * * * - -PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS. - -No. 1. - -HIDDEN TREES. - -1. Please bring me a pin, Ella dear? 2. We could not sleep last night, -for we heard the croaking of ravens. 3. Bring me the map, Lena, and help -me find the Amazon. 4. Elma is going to boarding-school, and so are -Jessie and Sue. 5. Has Helen her books, and has Arthur his slate? 6. I -was stung by a wasp or a bee, Charlie. 7. Don't go near the fire, Emma. -8. Tom, bring me your cap, please. 9. What did you do with the tape, -Arthur? - - PSCHYE. - - * * * * * - -No. 2. - -CHARADE. - - My first is sometimes used - When boys are very bad. - My second's oft abused, - And then 'tis very sad. - - A pet name is my third, - To boys it does belong. - My whole's a native bird, - Three notes compose its song. - - TOBY TYLER. - - * * * * * - -No. 3. - -NUMERICAL ENIGMA. - - I am composed of 49 letters. - My 5, 24, 39, 24, 31, 33, 29 is a peculiarity of the moth's tongue. - My 12, 42, 25, 38, 40, 10 is something the bee uses. - My 1, 22, 26 is peculiar to the feet of some birds. - My 1, 46, 12, 2, 14, 2 is a kind of deer. - My 19, 43, 19, 24 is a large bird. - My 11, 32, 44, 28 is an animal. - My 23, 16, 3, 46, 7, 42, 28, 12, 4, 42, 45, 36, 45 signifies change. - My 9, 17, 47, 21, 49, 49, 13, 8 enables insects to feel. - My 18, 21, 29, 30, 45, 46, 37, 6, 45 is the first change of a - caterpillar. - My 34, 15, 49 is part of a fish. - My 42, 28, 17, 48, 20, 21, 42, 28, 4, 30, 10, 41, 21, 24, 45 is a - strange animal. - My whole contains a useful animal. - - PAUL. - - * * * * * - -No. 4. - -BEHEADINGS. - -Behead a sharp, quick noise, and leave part of a chain. Behead a wooden -shoe, and leave a bulky piece of timber. Behead learning, and leave -metal in the rough. Behead a part of a carriage, and leave a part of the -body. Behead a useful implement, and leave an apartment. Behead soft -mud, and leave delicious ripeness. Behead part of a whip, and leave a -tree. - - LITTLE MOLLY. - - * * * * * - -No. 5. - -A RIDDLE. - -I am numerous, yet but one. I am found in the rare and curious, and -still am in general use all over the English-speaking world. I am found -in every school-room, and no collegiate course is complete without me. I -am valuable in geography and history, and the poets could not well get -along without my aid. - - EDNA A. GUERNSEY. - - * * * * * - -ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 114. - -No. 1. - -Addition.--1. Hoodwink. 2. Feather. 3. Capuchin. 4. Philippine. 5. -Cornice. - -Subtraction.--1. Reserved. 2. Coward. 3. Basket. 4. Market. 5. Socotra. - -Multiplication.--1. Pa-pa. 2. So-so. - -Division.--1. Adieux. 2. Tick-tick. 3. Chow-chow. 4. Frou-frou. - -No. 2. - -Wink-el-ried. - -No. 3. - -Ygdrasil. - -No. 4. - - N - R O D - R O M A N - N O M I N A L - D A N D Y - N A Y - L - - * * * * * - -Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Ralph Birdsall, Agnes -L. Hawley, Edgar Seeman, J. C., "Queen Bess," Louis Burnett, Amy Lee, -Grace Arrowsmith, "Peggy," Boland T. C., "Mother Bunch," Earle Demarest, -Schuyler Lamb, "Fill Buster," Mamie and Clara Blank, Robert Andrews, -Jun., Johnnie Miller. - - * * * * * - -[_For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover._] - - - - -[Illustration: FIG. 1.] - -THE SPECTRE SPECS. - - -I have seen a great deal of fun and laughter produced by a very simple -little device, which I call the Spectre Specs. - -A large party of people at a small country hotel were yawning away the -evening, as they often do in such places, when the inspiration seized -one of the most able-bodied yawners to do something to break up the -monotony. Taking into his confidence little Tom Wittles, an admirable -boy, with a large faculty for fun and mischief, he induced that youth to -purloin his grandmother's spectacles. With this modest instrument and a -paint-box belonging to one of the guests, they retired to a bedroom, -where the gentleman painted the surface of the spectacles all over with -white paint, and then neatly cleared a round spot in the centre of each -glass. He then painted a couple of pointed eyebrows on his own forehead -with black, and put on the spectacles. Then he tousled his hair, and -twisted a few threads of white and red worsted amongst it. This gave him -an appearance awful to behold, of which Fig. 1 gives but a very faint -idea. - -Thus transformed, he walked into the dimly lighted parlor doorway, and -inquired in a deep voice of the other yawners whether a gentleman of the -name of Samercanderoffsky was boarding in that hotel. There was no more -yawning after that. - -[Illustration: FIG. 2.] - -When all the company had completely recovered from their surprise, the -gentleman retired again to his chamber, and began to transform Tom -Wittles. He first painted a pair of eyebrows in the middle of the boy's -forehead, and then slightly altered the eyeballs in the spectacles so as -to give them the appearance of a squint. Placing them on Tom's forehead -just above the real eyebrows, he told him to close his eyes. He led him -into the parlor, and introduced him as the son of Mr. Samercanderoffsky. -Fig. 2 is his portrait. Of course there was no surprise now, but the lad -looked very funny, and produced no end of laughter with his long face -and melancholy expression. - -One word as to the material to be employed in painting the spectacles. -Chinese white, such as artists use, is all that is needed; but as very -few people are apt to own such a thing, perhaps the best plan is to cut -two oval pieces of white paper the shape of the spectacle bows, with a -round hole in the middle, and stick them on the back of the glasses. - - - - -[Illustration: "WHY SHOULDN'T WE ENJOY OURSELVES?" - -"For it's our delight of a shiny night at this season of the year."] - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, January 24, 1882, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 24, 1882 *** - -***** This file should be named 52745-8.txt or 52745-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/7/4/52745/ - -Produced by Annie R. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Harper's Round Table, January 24, 1882 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: August 7, 2016 [EBook #52745] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 24, 1882 *** - - - - -Produced by Annie R. McGuire - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_COUNTRY_BOY_IN_WINTER">A COUNTRY BOY IN WINTER.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TODD_AND_KETCHUMS_GRATE_SHOW">TODD AND KETCHUM'S "GRATE SHOW."</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_WAVES_AT_WORK">THE WAVES AT WORK.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_CIGARETTE_SMOKING">ON CIGARETTE SMOKING.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TALKING_LEAVES">THE TALKING LEAVES.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BULL-FROG">MR. THOMPSON AND THE BULL-FROG.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_SCHOOL_RESTAURANT">A SCHOOL RESTAURANT.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#BOYS_HEAD_BY_GREUZE">BOY'S HEAD BY GREUZE.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_SCULLION_WHO_BECAME_A_SCULPTOR">THE SCULLION WHO BECAME A SCULPTOR.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_DOLLS_DRESSMAKER">THE LITTLE DOLLS' DRESSMAKER.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DOTS_LETTER">DOT'S LETTER.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_REHEARSAL">THE REHEARSAL.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_MAN_OF_STRAW">"A MAN OF STRAW."</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_BATH-ROOM">THE BATH-ROOM.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX">OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_SPECTRE_SPECS">THE SPECTRE SPECS.</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> -<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="800" height="311" alt="HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE" /> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Vol</span>. III.—<span class="smcap">No</span>. 117.</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York</span>.</td><td align="right"><span class="smcap">price four cents</span>.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Tuesday, January 24, 1882.</td><td align="center">Copyright, 1882, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>.</td><td align="right">$1.50 per Year, in Advance.</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 556px;"> -<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="556" height="700" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">BOY'S HEAD.—<span class="smcap">By Greuze</span>.—[<span class="smcap">See Page</span> 202.]</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="A_COUNTRY_BOY_IN_WINTER" id="A_COUNTRY_BOY_IN_WINTER">A COUNTRY BOY IN WINTER.</a></h2> - -<h3>BY SARAH O. JEWETT.</h3> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">The wind may blow the snow about,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">For all I care, says Jack,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">And I don't mind how cold it grows,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">For then the ice won't crack.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Old folks may shiver all day long,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">But I shall never freeze;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">What cares a jolly boy like me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">For winter days like these?</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Far down the long snow-covered hills</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">It is such fun to coast,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">So clear the road! the fastest sled</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">There is in school I boast.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">The paint is pretty well worn off.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">But then I take the lead;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">A dandy sled's a loiterer,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">And I go in for speed.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">When I go home at supper-time,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">Ki! but my cheeks are red!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">They burn and sting like anything;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">I'm cross until I'm fed.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">You ought to see the biscuit go,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">I am so hungry then;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">And old Aunt Polly says that boys</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">Eat twice as much as men.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">There's always something I can do</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">To pass the time away;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">The dark comes quick in winter-time—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">A short and stormy day.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">And when I give my mind to it,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">It's just as father says,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I almost do a man's work now,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">And help him many ways.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I shall be glad when I grow up</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">And get all through with school,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I'll show them by-and-by that I</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">Was not meant for a fool.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I'll take the crops off this old farm,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">I'll do the best I can.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">A jolly boy like me won't be</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">A dolt when he's a man.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I like to hear the old horse neigh</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">Just as I come in sight,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">The oxen poke me with their horns</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">To get their hay at night.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Somehow the creatures seem like friends,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">And like to see me come.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Some fellows talk about New York,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">But I shall stay at home.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="TODD_AND_KETCHUMS_GRATE_SHOW" id="TODD_AND_KETCHUMS_GRATE_SHOW">TODD AND KETCHUM'S "GRATE SHOW."</a></h2> - -<h3>BY ELLA RODMAN CHURCH.</h3> - -<p>Any one who is well acquainted with boys knows what a common thing it is -for them to get up a circus. So there is nothing extraordinary in that -to write about. But some of the things that happened at Todd and -Ketchum's "Grate Show" were a little out of the common way.</p> - -<p>One of these things was that the Giant fought and fell apart. How he -managed to do it will be explained further on.</p> - -<p>Rufus Todd was twelve, and Harry Ketchum eleven; but they felt very much -grown up, because each was the eldest of several brothers and sisters, -and the younger ones were always spoken of as "the children." Rufus's -brother San (his name was Alexander, and it seemed too much of a name -for so small a boy) always wanted to do the things he did; but Rufe was -very apt to frown, and tell him he was too little.</p> - -<p>When Todd and Ketchum were getting up their "Grate Show," Mr. Ketchum, -Harry's father, said, "You don't spell it right."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, we do, sir," replied Rufe, who thought that Mr. Ketchum didn't -know much about shows; "that is the way Artemus Ward spelled his."</p> - -<p>Mr. Ketchum laughed, and said, "Oh, well, if you want to spell it just -as Artemus does, that is all right."'</p> - -<p>He kindly helped them with the large handbill which they got ready to -nail in front of the tent, and said that he thought it would attract -crowds. It was to be hoped not, for the tent was a queer affair, made of -sheets and quilts and unsteady poles, and it wouldn't take very much to -topple it over. But they had no misgivings.</p> - -<p>San Todd was sent around the village, which was a very small one, to ask -people to buy tickets for the "Grate Show," as the proprietors thought -it would be scarcely dignified to go themselves; and San, who was a very -exact, straight-forward little fellow, thought it his duty to describe -to the people just what they were going to see.</p> - -<p>"We've got a Giant," he would say, "and a Dwarf, and a Bearded Lady, and -a Elephant, and Rufe <i>thinks</i> he can make a wild Indian, mebbe."</p> - -<p>The last part always made them laugh, and quite a number of tickets were -disposed of.</p> - -<p>One of San's first visits was made to Mrs. Williams, a lady who, with -her daughter, was boarding for the summer at Dr. Gurner's. Miss Fanny -was quite a grown-up young lady, and San said she was the nicest-looking -girl he had ever seen; he particularly wanted her to come to the show.</p> - -<p>But she had gone out for a walk; so the little boy saw Mrs. Williams, -and asked her if she would let Miss Fanny come.</p> - -<p>"Will you take good care of her if I do?" said the lady, smiling at him -very pleasantly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am," was the prompt reply; "she shall have a reserved seat, if -she pays for it."</p> - -<p>It did not occur to San that this was rather a queer way of inviting a -young lady to go to an entertainment.</p> - -<p>"And what is the price of a reserved seat?" continued Mrs. Williams.</p> - -<p>"Eight cents," replied the young ticket seller. "You can see every thing -there; and six cents for the next, where you don't see much; and four -cents for the places where you can't see anything."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe I can go," said Miss Fanny's mother, "but here is the -money for a reserved seat for Fanny. Suppose, though, that she should be -rather late—she is going to town to-morrow—wouldn't some one else get -her seat?"</p> - -<p>"No, <i>ma'am</i>!" very emphatically; "Miss Fanny'll have her seat, even if -she don't come at all."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Williams couldn't see just how this was to be managed; but she -thought that to hear San in his capacity of ticket vender was quite -worth the money.</p> - -<p>The next afternoon was the day of the show, and the weather was bright -and pleasant. A great many people came—so many, that they couldn't all -get into the tent at once, and those who did get in were politely -requested to move about carefully for fear of its coming down.</p> - -<p>When the show began it was discovered that the Bearded Lady had a very -youthful face, and in spite of the fringe of hair tied under her chin, -and her sitting cross-legged upon a high box with a cushion on it, -everybody soon recognized Susie Ketchum.</p> - -<p>It was mean of people to say that the Dwarf was not small for his age, -just because they saw it was Willie Todd dressed up, when he had a -little pillow on his back for a hump, and all. And if the Elephant (Mr. -Ketchum's hired man on his hands and knees, with a gray blanket thrown -over him) <i>did</i> drop his trunk, it was only because it wasn't properly -fastened on.</p> - -<p>The Giant, though, was superb; he towered up to the very ceiling, and -looked so fierce and terrible, with his swarthy skin and huge mustache, -that, though the spectators <i>thought</i> they saw Rufe Todd's blue eyes -twinkling in the upper story, they didn't dare to believe it. Besides, -how could he have lengthened himself out so?</p> - -<p>So they all just stared in amazement. But presently there were some -queer movements about the middle of the human structure, and a smothered -voice seemed to proceed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> from its stomach. Then there was an -unmistakable "Get out!" a response of "You did that on purpose," and the -Giant suddenly broke in two, while the halves took to hitting each -other. The tent was dragged down with him; the children screamed, and -everybody scrambled. But when they got out from the sheets and quilts, -they all began to laugh, even the two pieces of the Giant, Rufe and -Harry, who had found it more uncomfortable to be one than they expected.</p> - -<p>Just at this time Miss Fanny arrived, and as soon as she saw San, she -said, "And where is my reserved seat, young man?"</p> - -<p>"That is all right," was the smiling reply; "nobody hasn't sat in it."</p> - -<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," said Rufus, coming forward with a very handsome -bow, "the circus is over."</p> - -<p>"That is very evident," replied Miss Fanny, laughing with the others; -and San considered it quite a compliment that she said it was the -funniest circus she ever saw.</p> - -<p>Nobody could have been so unfeeling as to remark she hadn't seen it at -all.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_WAVES_AT_WORK" id="THE_WAVES_AT_WORK">THE WAVES AT WORK.</a></h2> - -<h3>BY CHARLES BARNARD.</h3> - -<p>Were you ever down by the beach when the wind was blowing in from the -open sea? Did you see the white-caps? Did you see the surf as one great -green wave after the other came marching in, and fell over with a -magnificent roar on the beach, while the salt spray filled all the air -with briny fragrance? If you have seen these splendid sights, you -remember how the waves seemed to march along in a great procession -before the strong wind. Strange sights are these, yet the way in which -the wind starts the waves and keeps them moving is stranger still.</p> - -<p>If you go to Sandy Hook, or to Rockaway, or Coney Island by boat, you -will see some of these things. The wind blows upon the water, and as it -moves very easily, a part of the water is pushed up into little heaps by -the wind. If the wind is light, these tiny heaps are small, and soon -fall down again. When the wind ruffles the water in this way, we call it -a ripple. When the wind blows stronger, it pushes up more water, and we -call these heaps and ridges waves. As the wind keeps on blowing in the -same direction, the heaps rise and fall quickly, and the waves appear to -move along over the surface of the water in a great procession. It is -really only an appearance. The water does not move along, but only up -and down, as the motion started by the wind passes over the surface. -However, for our purposes, it is enough to describe things just as they -look.</p> - -<p>Under the waves the water is calm and still. The huge billows that roll -over the sea in storms are seldom much more than fifteen feet high, and -they pass over the surface without disturbing the water beyond the depth -of a few feet. Every wave has a top, a middle part, and a bottom, or -lower part. When a wave coming in from the sea approaches the shore, the -bottom of the wave strikes the land first. The sand catches and holds it -back and makes it go slower. The top of the wave, not feeling this -friction against the ground, rushes forward, leaving the lower part -behind. As the wave comes nearer to the beach, the bottom part is held -back more and more, and the whole wave tips over. It pitches forward as -if tripped up, and the top rushes onward swiftly, while the lower part -lags behind. The crest, or upper edge, rises higher, for there is no -room for it all to pass, and it lifts up as if trying to stand upright. -The air gets caught under the crest of the wave in front, and in a -moment the wave, unable to rise any higher, falls flat on its face upon -the sand. The air caught under it bursts out with a roaring sound, and -escapes through the water in a million white bubbles that make the water -look like milky foam.</p> - -<p>The white-caps you see upon the open water are made in the same way. The -wind seems to be impatient that the waves move so slowly, and it knocks -their caps off, and the poor waves seem to get very mad about it, and to -grow quite white in the face. The top of the wave tries to rush ahead of -the lower part, and tumbles over in the foaming water-fall the sailors -call a white-cap.</p> - -<p>When a wave reaches the shore, something very curious happens. The -bottom of the wave strikes the ground first. The wave drags over the -sand as it passes on toward the beach, and draws some of the loose sand -after it. First, the smaller and lighter grains are rolled along or -lifted up and carried a short distance by the wave. As the water grows -more shallow, the wave scrapes and drags over the sand, and the larger -grains and even small pebbles are rolled along after the lighter sand. -But the wave must go slower here, and thus it lets go its hold and drops -its load. When it has passed, the sand, that may have been level before, -is raised into a low ridge or windrow. The smaller and lighter grains, -being carried farthest, are dropped in one place, and the heavier grains -and small pebbles are dropped in another place.</p> - -<p>The next wave may stir up and drag along more sand, and lay it down, all -sorted out, on the ridge. Other waves may follow, and do the same thing, -and so the heap begins to grow: the baby sand-bar has been born. It may -have been a mere trifle that started it just there—a crab or the bones -of a dead fish, some gravel dropped from a piece of melting ice, a stray -bit of sea-weed. No matter what it was, or how trifling the obstruction, -the loose sand rolled along by the wave caught just there, and was left -behind; the next wave left a little more, and each in turn added to the -heap.</p> - -<p>Waves are very irregular in size, and perhaps some big fellow may lift -up more sand than he can carry, and may drop it all in one place. Then -for some time the weather may be pleasant, and the tiny ridge, perhaps -not a quarter of an inch high, and twenty feet wide, may rest awhile. -Then a storm comes, with large waves, and when they meet this slight -obstruction they go over it more slowly, and drop part of their loads -upon it. So it may grow very fast in a single day. In front, toward the -sea, the sand will be scooped out in long trenches, and behind it will -be a stretch of deeper and smoother water. After that every wave that -comes in stumbles and appears to trip just there, and there are -white-caps over that spot even in pleasant weather. When the smooth -swelling rollers are coming in from the sea, they appear to be angry -every time they strike their feet on the hidden bar, and they tumble -over with a roar, and show a white feather of foam in their caps.</p> - -<p>The sand-bar, once started, never stops growing or changing. It grows -wider and higher, or it changes its shape, twisting about in the -strangest manner. Smaller bars spring up upon it, or disappear only to -grow up in another place. At last, some spring day, when the tides run -low, the bar appears above the water. Strange things have happened to -it. The fish have made it their home, lively crabs scamper about on the -wet sand, and thousands of clams find a snug resting-place there.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="400" height="248" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">FINGERS OF THE SEA.</span> -</div> - -<p>One day last summer I found one of these young sand-bars cast up by a -storm at the eastern point of Coney Island, near the inlet at the end of -the Marine Railway. It was so strange that I took a shot at it with my -camera, and here it is. It is a very small affair, and you may not be -able to find it next summer, for I dare say the next storm tore it all -to pieces, or carried it away and put it somewhere else.</p> - -<p>You see the long, low heap of sand thrown up by the waves. Beyond is the -sea looking toward Rockaway. Behind the bar is a long pool of still -water, and you can see how the waves, in pushing the sand forward, drove -it into the pool in long fingers, or capes. See the sea-weed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> and -rubbish thrown up by the surf. It is all sorted out, the larger pieces -at the top, and the smaller bits trailing along toward the pool. All the -light sand is arranged by itself next the pool of still water. This bar -was thrown up on top of the beach by a storm, yet it serves to show how -the sand-bars made under water look. Even on shore you can hear the bars -roaring and moaning all day and night, as the great work of the sea goes -on, never stopping, never hurrying, for centuries after centuries.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="ON_CIGARETTE_SMOKING" id="ON_CIGARETTE_SMOKING">ON CIGARETTE SMOKING.</a></h2> - -<h3>BY AN OLD SMOKER</h3> - -<p>I am an old smoker, that is past all doubt; but I was a young smoker as -well. I can remember my first smoke as if it was but yesterday. It was a -fine day in June, and I was about twelve years old. Three of us, all at -about the same advanced period of life, felt a noble ambition to show -ourselves men as soon as possible, and we concluded that, while it might -do for girls to spend their money on candies and pies, every boy who had -any self-respect would prefer the manly pleasure of a smoke.</p> - -<p>We raised about a quarter among us, and bought three clay pipes and some -tobacco. We began to show our manliness at recess. We got behind the -school-house, into the nook of an old snake fence, and lit our pipes.</p> - -<p>The results were terrible. I do not mean the mere flogging we all got -for not being back in school after recess, for in those good old days a -flogging more or less was a thing of no importance. I mean the agony of -head and stomach we endured during this first attempt at manly -enjoyments. I remember how we saw each other getting paler and paler, -how our caps distressed us, how our neckties seemed to choke us, and how -a cold perspiration broke out, how we hung limp and feeble over the -fence, and how we finally lay upon the grass thinking that our last -moments were approaching.</p> - -<p>We did not any of us die, however, and in my case at least much good was -accomplished. My ambitious views were checked, and I never could bear -the smell of tobacco for full ten years.</p> - -<p>There is plenty of evidence to show that the use of tobacco by boys at -the time when they ought to be growing absolutely stunts their growth. -It undoubtedly hurts their digestion. Dr. Hammond says that tobacco -impairs both sight and hearing, and that he has seen several instances -of boys having their eyes seriously, if not incurably, injured by -smoking.</p> - -<p>It should always be borne in mind that many things which a full-grown -man can do without hurting himself may be very harmful to the growing -boy, who requires all his powers to promote his physical development. I -therefore do not say, "Take a vow never to touch tobacco," but I do say, -"Never touch it until you are old enough to know whether you can use it -without injury to yourself."</p> - -<p>Whenever you hear anybody speaking in praise of tobacco, you must -remember he is speaking of tobacco and not of cheap cigars. "Young man," -said an old smoker, "that cigar contains acetic, formic, butyric, -valeric, and proprionic acids, prussic acid, creosote, carbolic acid, -pyrodine, virodine, and cabbagine, and burdockic acid."</p> - -<p>The old gentleman was laying it on too heavy, perhaps, for even a bad -cigar. He was not exaggerating, however, if he was speaking of the -modern cigarette. The cigarettes now sold in every cigar store and in -every street consist chiefly of bad paper, bad tobacco, and dirt. Many -of them contain worse ingredients, such as opium. The effect they -produce when used immoderately is much worse than any results of tobacco -smoking.</p> - -<p>In the famous Polytechnic School of France, the difference between the -pupils who smoked cigarettes and those who did not was so marked that -the use of tobacco was prohibited in all government schools. At the -Naval School at Annapolis, Commodore Parker was so struck with the evil -that he consulted Dr. Hammond in regard to it. The doctor's reply was -that he had no doubt that the smoking of cigarettes was injurious to the -cadets, for he had constant evidence of the fact in his private -practice.</p> - -<p>The paper in which the cheap tobacco is rolled for cigarettes is of poor -quality, producing empyreumatic oil, which contains creosote in large -quantities. The odor they give out is ranker, fouler, and more acrid -than that from a clay pipe. From a cigar to a cigarette the descent is -from the sublime to the ridiculous.</p> - -<p>We are not talking, however, about smoking in general, but about this -modern fashion of cigarette smoking by boys. It is far worse than pipes -or cigars. One old smoker who dropped into poetry occasionally wrote,</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"Smoke not, ingenuous youth, or if you do,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">I recommend clay pipes and 'honey-dew.'"</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>I would prefer to say, "Smoke not at all, my ingenuous boy; but whatever -you do, smoke no cigarettes." The nicotine will hurt your nervous -system, and by weakening the action of the heart will diminish the force -of the circulation of the blood. Your hands will begin to tremble, your -memory to be affected. You will not be able to enjoy or take part in a -good honest out-of-doors game. You will lose your appetite, as well as -weaken your brain.</p> - -<p>Apart from the inferior quality of the tobacco from which cigarettes are -made, the method of smoking them is the most injurious possible. The -smoke, whether inhaled or blown out through the nostrils, produces -dryness in the fine membrane which lines the mouth, the speaking -apparatus at the head of the windpipe becomes enfeebled, and the voice -loses the sweetness and liquidity of its tones. "Every boy," writes Dr. -Sayre, "who desires to become an orator should never smoke a cigarette."</p> - -<p>And now last but not least, cigarette smoking makes you look ridiculous, -as it shows at once that you are a novice, and do not know good tobacco -from bad.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_TALKING_LEAVES" id="THE_TALKING_LEAVES"></a>THE TALKING LEAVES.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> - -<h4>An Indian Story.</h4> - -<h3>BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.</h3> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Chapter XVI</span>.</h3> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 92px;"> -<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="92" height="150" alt="Drop Cap B" /> -</div> - -<p>efore long, Murray came back with the results of his hunting expedition.</p> - -<p>"A fine fat doe," said Steve, when his friend threw down his game in -front of the fire.</p> - -<p>"Now for a cooking time," replied Murray, "and then we must have a good -nap."</p> - -<p>"I'll do a little eating, too, while I'm cooking."</p> - -<p>Neither of them neglected that duty, but Murray took the two plump -hind-quarters of the doe and roasted them whole.</p> - -<p>How?—with no stove, no oven, no kitchen tools of any sort or -description?</p> - -<p>Two forked sticks were set firmly in the ground on either side, in front -of the fire, and a strong stick laid across from fork to fork at about -four feet from the ground. Then a leg of venison, hung to this -cross-piece by a thong of raw deer-skin, was turned round and round -until the thong would twist no tighter. When it was let go, the weight -of the meat kept it from untwisting too fast.</p> - -<p>This was precisely what our great-grandmothers used to call a -"roasting-jack," and all it required was that somebody should wind it up -when it ran down, so that the meat would be evenly done all over.</p> - -<p>Meantime the broiling and eating of smaller pieces went right on. Their -long ride and hard work had given Steve and Murray both good appetites.</p> - -<p>"Now, Steve, lie down. Sleep all you can."</p> - -<p>"Sha'n't you take a rest?"</p> - -<p>"Don't need much. Young eyes call for more sleep than old ones. Never -mind me. I'll call you when the time comes."</p> - -<p>Steve was used to obeying Murray, and was glad enough to do so now. He -was quickly asleep under a spreading tree, while Murray sat down before -the fire, as if to "mind the roast."</p> - -<p>There was something more important than venison for him to think of, -however. He had taken off his hat, and his white head was bare. With the -strong light of the camp fire shining upon his weather-beaten face, he -would have made a good subject for a painter.</p> - -<p>He was thinking deeply, so deeply that at last he thought aloud:</p> - -<p>"I am a white man. I've been an Indian long enough. Yes, I think I'll -try it. That would be better than killing all the Apaches between this -and the California line."</p> - -<p>He did not explain what it was he meant to try, but the stern expression -on his face grew milder and milder, until it almost seemed as if he were -smiling. Even Steve Harrison had never seen him do that.</p> - -<p>The venison roasts were wound up, twisted tight again and again, and at -last they were taken off.</p> - -<p>"They'll do. I'll give 'em an hour to cool, and then we must be off."</p> - -<p>The hour went by, and then Steve felt himself rudely shaken by the -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"You can't have it," grumbled Steve. "That gold's ours. I killed it -myself, and we're roasting it now."</p> - -<p>"Dreaming, are you? Wake up, Steve. It's time we were moving. We've a -long night ride before us."</p> - -<p>"How late is it?"</p> - -<p>"No watch; can't say exactly. But I reckon we can reach the valley by -sunrise, and not overwork our horses. They're both in good condition."</p> - -<p>The two wiry, swift-footed mustangs, in spite of all they had been -through, were ready now for another long pull, but they were likely to -stand it better in the cool night hours than under the hot sun. In a few -minutes more the two friends were in the saddle.</p> - -<p>They had not ridden far before Murray suddenly exclaimed,</p> - -<p>"I'm going to do a queer thing, Steve Harrison."</p> - -<p>"You won't go back to the Lipans?"</p> - -<p>"Queerer than that. I'm going to ride straight in among that band of -Apaches."</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>"I can't exactly say as yet. Will you go with me?"</p> - -<p>"Anywhere."</p> - -<p>It turned out that Murray was nearly right in his calculation of the -time they would reach the valley. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> was just as the light of the -rising sun grew strong and bright that he and Steve stood on the slope -at the lower edge of the forest, and looking through the spy-glass saw -the white tilts of the two wagons of the miners.</p> - -<p>"They've roused up early," said Murray.</p> - -<p>"Looks as if they were setting out on a hunt or a scout."</p> - -<p>"So it does. There they go. Steve, we must ride after those fellows."</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>"To stop 'em. They'll only run their heads against the Apaches, and -leave their camp to be plundered by the Lipans."</p> - -<p>"They're in a trap, Murray."</p> - -<p>"Come on, Steve!"</p> - -<p>But the distance was not less than a couple of miles, and the miners had -prepared beforehand for that "early start." It was all against the will -of Captain Skinner, and the bad temper he was in only made him start -more promptly and ride faster.</p> - -<p>"Tell ye what, boys," he said to the rest, as they galloped on behind -him, "I'll give ye all the scouting you want this morning."</p> - -<p>At that moment Murray was saying, "We must catch those fellows and send -them back. What are they going so fast for? Why, it'll be a regular -race."</p> - -<p>It was very much like one after a little. Steve and Murray rode rapidly, -but it takes a great deal of swift running to catch up with men who have -more than two miles the start.</p> - -<p>"We'll catch 'em, Murray."</p> - -<p>"If we don't, it'll be a bad race for them. I kind o' feel as if the -lives of those men were the prize we're riding for."</p> - -<p>Mile after mile went by, and the excitement of it grew to be something -terrible.</p> - -<p>"The Apaches can't be far ahead of 'em now, Murray."</p> - -<p>"Hark! Hear that?"</p> - -<p>"A rifle-shot! A whoop!"</p> - -<p>"They are pulling up."</p> - -<p>"They'd better. I'm afraid we're too late, Murray."</p> - -<p>"On—on, Steve! Maybe there's time yet."</p> - -<p>Captain Skinner had already seen and heard enough to make him halt, and -he was gathering his men rapidly into close order, when a long, ringing -shout behind him drew his anxious eyes from the dangerous-looking -"signs" now gathering in his front.</p> - -<p>Signs?</p> - -<p>Yes, danger signs. Wild, dark, painted horsemen, riding hither and -thither and nearer and nearer, growing more and more numerous every -moment.</p> - -<p>These were the signs that Many Bears and his warriors meant to stand -between any approaching enemy and the camp of their squaws and children.</p> - -<p>The shout was from Murray.</p> - -<p>"Don't shoot!"</p> - -<p>In a few seconds more the old man was reining in his panting mustang -among the startled and gloomy-faced miners.</p> - -<p>"Where did you drop from?" was the cool, steady question of Skinner.</p> - -<p>"Never you mind. Is Bill here?"</p> - -<p>"He and his two mates are on guard at the camp. I know ye now. You're -them two mining fellers. You met Bill and—"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I met Bill, but there's no time for talk now. You take your men -straight back to camp. It's the only show you've got left."</p> - -<p>"Reckon we can beat off a few beggarly Apaches."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk. Ride for your camp. If you get there before the Lipans do, -take your wagons into the pass, and stay there till they get by. Don't -strike a blow at them. They'd be too much for ye."</p> - -<p>"Lipans? Going for our camp? Boys, 'bout face! Ride for your lives!"</p> - -<p>For so small a man he had a great deal of voice, and his command was -instantly obeyed, but he paused long enough to ask of Steve and Murray,</p> - -<p>"What about you two?"</p> - -<p>"Us? We'll stay and keep the Apaches from chasing you."</p> - -<p>"Won't they scalp you?"</p> - -<p>"Not a bit. But there's one thing you may do. If by any chance you have -a talk with the Lipans, you tell them where you saw us last. Tell the -chief from me that No Tongue and Yellow Head are all right, only their -horses are tired following your trail and the Apaches."</p> - -<p>"Hope I won't meet him. You're the queerest pair I ever saw; but I wish -the boys had let me follow out the word you sent in by Bill."</p> - -<p>"Too late now. Ride out of this the best gait your horse knows."</p> - -<p>This was good advice, and Captain Skinner took it.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the old man sat quietly in his saddle, with Steve Harrison at -his side, as if they two were quite enough to stem the torrent of fierce -whooping Apaches, sweeping down upon them across the plain.</p> - -<p>"Our lives are worth about as much as our title to that mine," said -Steve; and it was no shame to him that he felt his young heart beat -pretty rapidly.</p> - -<p>"Sling your rifle behind you on the saddle. Fold your arms. Sit still. -I'll do the talking."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="400" height="331" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">"THE STORM OF DARK HORSEMEN WAS HEADED BY MANY BEARS IN -PERSON."</span> -</div> - -<p>The storm of dark horsemen was headed by Many Bears in person, and it -was barely two minutes more before he was reining in his pony in front -of the two "pale-face Lipans."</p> - -<p>"How!" said Murray, quite heartily, holding out his right hand, with the -open palm up, while he put his left upon his breast.</p> - -<p>"How!" replied the chief, with a little hesitation, but a dozen voices -around him were shouting,</p> - -<p>"Send Warning!"</p> - -<p>"Knotted Cord!"</p> - -<p>"Pale-face friends of Apaches!"</p> - -<p>It was plain that the description given of them by Red Wolf and the -girls had been quite accurate enough for their instant recognition.</p> - -<p>"Other pale-faces run away. Why you stay?"</p> - -<p>"Don't know them. Strangers. Run away from Apache chief. Chief must not -follow."</p> - -<p>"Why not follow?"</p> - -<p>"Run against Lipans. Have big fight. Lose many warriors. All for -nothing. Better go back."</p> - -<p>"Send Warning is a good friend. Do what he say. You come?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. We come. Trust friend."</p> - -<p>Steve listened in silent wonder. He had never heard Murray speak a word -about the Apaches that was not full of distrust of their good faith as -well as hate of their ferocity. Yet here he was treating them with -absolute confidence. Steve felt quite sure he would have hesitated, for -his own part, to meet a band of Lipans in that way.</p> - -<p>He did not understand Indian character as well as Murray, in spite of -his three years among them. A man who came to them conferring benefits, -and betraying no doubt of their good faith, was as safe among them as if -he had been one of their own people.</p> - -<p>It also occurred to Steve that this was hardly what Murray had been sent -out for by To-la-go-to-de, but his devotion to the interests of that -chief was not strong enough to make him care much.</p> - -<p>Whatever might be Murray's intentions, Steve had firmly decided that as -far as he himself was concerned there would be no going back to give any -report of the "scouting."</p> - -<p>The Apaches wheeled toward the west, and Send Warning and Knotted Cord -rode on at the side of Many Bears.</p> - -<h4>[<span class="smcap">to be continued</span>.]</h4> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BULL-FROG" id="MR_THOMPSON_AND_THE_BULL-FROG">MR. THOMPSON AND THE BULL-FROG.</a></h2> - -<h3>BY ALLAN FORMAN.</h3> - -<p>Mr. Thompson was lying in the shade on the bank of a small pond. He had -come out to read, he said, but no sooner had he thrown himself on the -soft turf than an irresistible desire to sleep came upon him; so, -pillowing his head on his book, he closed his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Cut-a-ka-chunk, cut-a-ka-chunk," croaked a big green frog down in the -pond.</p> - -<p>"I wish you'd keep still," growled Mr. Thompson.</p> - -<p>"He's-goin'-to-sleep, he's-goin'-to-sleep," answered the frog, in a deep -bass voice.</p> - -<p>"Just-hear-him-snore, just-hear-him-snore," piped a little green fellow, -sitting on a lily pad.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thompson was getting angry. "I'm not asleep," he shouted.</p> - -<p>"Don't-you-get-mad, don't-you-get-mad," urged the old frog.</p> - -<p>This was too much. Mr. Thompson sat up and looked around. Directly in -front of him, in the edge of the pond, sat a great bull-frog, dressed in -a green coat, a canary-colored vest, and dark brown knee-breeches. He -winked at Mr. Thompson sociably, and remarked, "How-do-you-do? -how-do-you-do? how-do-you-do?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty well," answered Mr. Thompson; "but I'm very sleepy."</p> - -<p>"Come-take-a-swim," advised the frog, laconically.</p> - -<p>"I would," said Mr. Thompson, hesitating, "only I'm afraid I'd get wet, -and spoil my clothes."</p> - -<p>"Never-hurts-mine, never-hurts-mine," answered the frog, jumping into -the pond and taking a few strokes.</p> - -<p>"But you see my clothes are not like yours," explained Mr. Thompson.</p> - -<p>"Look-just-the-same, look-just-the-same," answered the frog.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thompson looked down at his vest; the white had changed to -lemon-color; his sober black pantaloons were metamorphosed into natty -snuff-colored knee-breeches; and worst of all, his alpaca duster had -become a tight green cut-away coat.</p> - -<p>"If Angelina should see me in this rig, what would she say?" murmured -Mr. Thompson, in despairing tones.</p> - -<p>"Better-come-in, better-come-in," croaked the frog, with something like -a smile on his broad mouth.</p> - -<p>"I guess I will," thought Mr. Thompson, and plunging head first he dived -into the pond. He soon came up with his mouth full of mud. That, of -course, annoyed him, but he was more interested in how the mud got into -his mouth, for, diving as he did, he should have struck the top of his -head. He put his hand up to feel. Horror! instead of touching the top of -his head, he thrust his hand into his mouth. He felt again; <i>his mouth -was on the top of his head</i>. He climbed up on a lily pad, and looked at -his reflection in the water. He could hardly believe his eyes; there was -no Mr. Thompson; only a great green and yellow frog. The other frog was -sitting not far off, watching him with an air of amusement.</p> - -<p>"There are some boys on the bridge, and they are going to throw stones -at us," whispered the old frog. Mr. Thompson forgot his sudden change of -appearance, and assuming his most pompous manner, he shouted, -"You-mustn't-do-that, you-mustn't-do-that."</p> - -<p>"You old fool," bellowed the old frog, as he plunged into the water.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thompson thought discretion to be the better part of valor, and -followed.</p> - -<p>"He's gone under," remarked one of the boys, regretfully. "Wouldn't he -have made a splendid fry?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Thompson rose with his nose under a lily pad and shuddered. His -friend came up beside him. "What did you want to speak for when those -boys were there? You only let them know where we were," he said, rather -crossly. "That is the reason we wear green coats, so that we can sit -among the lily pads and not be seen."</p> - -<p>Mr. Thompson replied that he had forgot himself, and spoke without -thinking. "So that's the reason for wearing green coats?" he added.</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied the old frog. "Now you see my son here wears brown long -clothes," he added, pointing to a pollywog that wiggled up to him. "That -is because he stays on the bottom, and if he sees a boy, he keeps still, -and his enemies think that he is a lump of mud or a stone."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Mr. Thompson, "and green coats have been in fashion for a -long time?"</p> - -<p>"Ever since the days of Homer. Don't you remember in Homer's poem, 'The -Battle of the Frogs and Mice,' he says, 'Green was the suit his arming -heroes chose'?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes," answered Mr. Thompson.</p> - -<p>"My great-grandfather was in that battle, and my uncle was the original -frog who would a-wooing go," continued the old frog; "but you know he -got eaten up. He was a French frog, I think; at least I never saw an -American frog with an opera hat."</p> - -<p>How much more the old frog would have said Mr. Thompson never knew, for -there on the bank he saw his beloved Angelina, sitting beside his -deserted book, weeping as if her heart would break.</p> - -<p>"I am here, dear one," he shouted. At the same moment he felt a -sensation of dampness, and found himself lying half in the pond. He rose -and accompanied Miss Angelina home; then, after putting on dry clothes, -he related his adventures to a company of his friends. All were -interested except one skeptical young man.</p> - -<p>"But if my story is not true, how did I come in the pond?" argued Mr. -Thompson.</p> - -<p>"You got asleep, and rolled in; then when you felt wet, you dreamed that -you were a frog," said the skeptical young man.</p> - -<p>"That's not at all likely," sniffed Mr. Thompson, indignantly.</p> - -<p>"Likely or not, it's undoubtedly true."</p> - -<p>"Listen," said Mr. Thompson. Then far down in the marsh was heard the -faint sound of the frog's chorus:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"Thompson-got-wet, Thompson-got-wet—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Ha, ha, ha, ha;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Guess-he-is-yet, guess-he-is-yet—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Ha, ha.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Had-to-go-home, had-to-go-home—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Ha, ha, ha, ha;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 16em;">He'd-better-not-come, he'd-better-not-come—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Ha, ha."</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>"What do you say to that?" cried Mr. Thompson, shaking his head -triumphantly, as he walked off to bed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="A_SCHOOL_RESTAURANT" id="A_SCHOOL_RESTAURANT">A SCHOOL RESTAURANT.</a></h2> - -<p>For most young people, going to school is the great business of life. -Whatever ups and downs may occur in the family, they keep steadily on, -learning lessons, reciting them, getting merits and demerits, and -growing through it all as fast as they can toward the time when they -shall be men and women.</p> - -<p>The ancients—who are so called because when they lived this old world -was young—had a wise saying about a sound mind in a sound body, which -fathers and mothers in these days seem to have quite forgotten, if they -ever heard it. Else how does it happen that Alice and Fanny, who never -have the least appetite in the morning, are permitted to go to school, -after a very slender breakfast, with a few cents in their pockets to buy -lunch; and that Walter and Howard, with their heads full of other -declensions, decline to take even so much as a sandwich, on the plea -that they have no time to eat at noon?</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="400" height="392" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">DISPOSING OF THE CANDY.</span> -</div> - -<p>Growing boys and girls need to eat if they are to be rosy, plump, and -strong. Yet we can not blame children for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> disliking the usual school -luncheon, which is seldom dainty-looking or inviting to the taste; -sandwiches roughly and thickly cut, the bread clumsily buttered, and the -meat in chunks instead of slices, cake crumbling and soggy, pickles, and -pie that has been wedged into a dinner box for hours, are none of them -the proper food for exhausted brains.</p> - -<p>Of course, where it is possible, a run home between the morning and -afternoon sessions of school, and a nice luncheon at the prettily set -home table, with mamma smiling at the head, are the very best things to -keep children well. Many reasons combine to make this arrangement very -inconvenient, however, for most schools. The necessary prompt -re-assembling after the noon recess would be out of the question where -pupils live, as they frequently do, several miles distant from the -school building.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="400" height="380" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">LUNCH-HOUR IN AN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.</span> -</div> - -<p>How would you like the idea of a school restaurant of your own, little -folks? On the bill of fare we would have every day nice hot soup, good -home-made bread, both white and brown, baked potatoes, apple sauce, rice -pudding, crisp celery, cold ham, and ripe fruit, served at the order of -the pupil-diner, at a daily cost of a few cents. We think there are -clever women who could manage such an enterprise so that it would pay -them very fair profits, and we are sure that if mammas and papas were -consulted, they would consider it an economy to have their children well -fed every day. It would save an immense amount in doctors' bills to some -households.</p> - -<p>That wonderful machine, the human body, is not unlike a stove, in which -the fire will not keep on burning cheerily unless it is replenished from -time to time with fuel. Now the very worst fuel in the world for the -human stove is composed of pickles on the one hand, and creams and -confections on the other. If the brain is to perform its high offices as -it ought, the stomach must receive due attention.</p> - -<p>After a comfortable luncheon at the school restaurant, we should advise -the boys and girls to petition for a half-hour of merry play -out-of-doors in pleasant weather. Snow-balling, coasting, and skating -would not be amiss, for after the rapid exercise the mind would return -to study not jaded and tired, but fresh and vigorous. In stormy weather -a dance or a half-hour of calisthenics would set the blood to merry -motion in the veins, and we would not see children coming home from -school at four irritable and cross, or so often hear the family doctor -say, "You must take that child from school."</p> - -<p>We would just remind fathers and mothers that at present the only -children who are sure of a good dinner at noon are the little waifs who -go to the industrial schools, and for whom charity provides at least one -hearty meal a day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="600" height="399" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">MID-DAY DINNER IN THE SCHOOL RESTAURANT.—<span class="smcap">Drawn by Mrs. -Jessie Shepherd</span>.</span> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BOYS_HEAD_BY_GREUZE" id="BOYS_HEAD_BY_GREUZE">BOY'S HEAD BY GREUZE.</a></h2> - -<h4>[See front-page illustration.]</h4> - -<p>This charming head is from a beautiful oil-painting by the great French -painter Greuze, who a century ago was famous for depicting little folks -with his brush and pencil.</p> - -<p>Jean Baptiste Greuze was born in 1725 at Tournus, a little manufacturing -town in the Department of Saône-et-Loire, in the south of France. From -his early boyhood he developed the inclination and taste for art which -later made him one of the first of French painters. His first studies -were made in Lyons, a great manufacturing centre, not very far from his -native town. From Lyons he went to Paris, and was so successful that he -was enabled to fulfill his ambition of visiting Rome, where he pursued -his studies for a considerable period.</p> - -<p>Greuze had the deepest love and affection for children, and was never so -happy as when painting them. For this reason we find that his pictures -are not stiff little photographs of sedate and unnaturally wise young -people, but that they have the frank unconsciousness and joyous serenity -of youth. They are real children, and truth is as essential to greatness -in the world of art as it is to greatness in the human character.</p> - -<p>In his mode of life Greuze was eccentric and unhappy. He had the great -fault of thriftlessness, and carelessness of his personal affairs, and -when he died in 1805, in his eightieth year, he was reduced to a -condition of miserable poverty. It is sad to contemplate so wretched an -end to the life of one whose artistic creations will be admired and -respected as long as art endures.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_SCULLION_WHO_BECAME_A_SCULPTOR" id="THE_SCULLION_WHO_BECAME_A_SCULPTOR">THE SCULLION WHO BECAME A SCULPTOR.</a></h2> - -<h3>BY GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON.</h3> - -<p>In the little Italian village of Possagno there lived a jolly -stone-cutter named Pisano. He was poor, of course, or he would not have -been a stone-cutter, but he was full of good-humor, and everybody liked -him.</p> - -<p>There was one little boy especially who loved old Pisano, and whom old -Pisano loved more than anybody else in the world. This was Antonio -Canova, Pisano's grandson, who had come to live with him, because his -father was dead, and his mother had married a harsh man, who treated the -little Antonio roughly.</p> - -<p>Antonio was a frail little fellow, and his grandfather liked to have him -near him during his working hours.</p> - -<p>While Pisano worked at stone-cutting, little Canova played at it, and at -other things, such as modelling in clay, drawing, etc. The old -grandfather, plain, uneducated man as he was, soon discovered that the -pale-faced little fellow at his side had something more than an ordinary -child's dexterity at such things.</p> - -<p>The boy knew nothing of art or of its laws, but he fashioned his lumps -of clay into forms of real beauty. His wise grandfather, seeing what -this indicated, hired a teacher to give him some simple lessons in -drawing, so that he might improve himself if he really had the artistic -ability which the old man suspected. Pisano was much too poor, as he -knew, ever to give the boy an art-education and make an artist of him, -but he thought that Antonio might at least learn to be a better -stone-cutter than common.</p> - -<p>As the boy grew older, he began to help in the shop during the day, -while in the evening his grandmother told him stories or sang or recited -poetry to him. All these things were educating him, though without his -knowing it, for they were awakening his taste and stimulating his -imagination, which found expression in the clay models that he loved to -make in his leisure hours.</p> - -<p>It so happened that Signor Faliero, the head of a noble Venetian family, -and a man of rare understanding in art, had a palace near Pisano's -house, and at certain seasons the nobleman entertained many -distinguished guests there. When the palace was very full of visitors, -old Pisano was sometimes hired to help the servants with their tasks, -and the boy Canova, when he was twelve years old, sometimes did -scullion's work there also for a day when some great feast was given.</p> - -<p>On one of these occasions, when the Signor Faliero was to entertain a -very large company at dinner, young Canova was at work over the pots and -pans in the kitchen. The head servant made his appearance, just before -the dinner hour, in great distress.</p> - -<p>The man who had been engaged to furnish the great central ornament for -the table had, at the last moment, sent word that he had spoiled the -piece. It was now too late to secure another, and there was nothing to -take its place. The great vacant space in the centre of the table -spoiled the effect of all that had been done to make the feast artistic -in appearance, and it was certain that Signor Faliero would be sorely -displeased.</p> - -<p>But what was to be done? The poor fellow whose business it was to -arrange the table was at his wits' end.</p> - -<p>While every one stood dismayed and wondering, the begrimed scullion boy -timidly approached the distressed head servant, and said,</p> - -<p>"If you will let me try, I think I can make something that will do."</p> - -<p>"You!" exclaimed the servant; "and who are you?"</p> - -<p>"I am Antonio Canova, Pisano's grandson," answered the pale-faced little -fellow.</p> - -<p>"And what can you do, pray?" asked the man, in astonishment at the -conceit of the lad.</p> - -<p>"I can make you something that will do for the middle of the table," -said the boy, "if you'll let me try."</p> - -<p>The servant had little faith in the boy's ability, but not knowing what -else to do, he at last consented that Canova should try.</p> - -<p>Calling for a large quantity of butter, little Antonio quickly modelled -a great crouching lion, which everybody in the kitchen pronounced -beautiful, and which the now rejoicing head servant placed carefully -upon the table.</p> - -<p>The company that day consisted of the most cultivated men of -Venice—merchants, princes, noblemen, artists, and lovers of art—and -among them were many who, like Faliero himself, were skilled critics of -art-work.</p> - -<p>When these people were ushered in to dinner their eyes fell upon the -butter lion, and they forgot for what purpose they had entered the -dining-room. They saw there something of higher worth in their eyes than -any dinner could be, namely, a work of genius.</p> - -<p>They scanned the butter lion critically, and then broke forth in a -torrent of praises, insisting that Faliero should tell them at once what -great sculptor he had persuaded to waste his skill upon a work in butter -that must quickly melt away. But Signor Faliero was as ignorant as they, -and he had, in his turn, to make inquiry of the chief servant.</p> - -<p>When the company learned that the lion was the work of a scullion, -Faliero summoned the boy, and the banquet became a sort of celebration -in his honor.</p> - -<p>But it was not enough to praise a lad so gifted. These were men who knew -that such genius as his belonged to the world, not to a village, and it -was their pleasure to bring it to perfection by educating the boy in -art. Signor Faliero himself claimed the right to provide for young -Antonio, and at once declared his purpose to defray the lad's expenses, -and to place him under the tuition of the best masters.</p> - -<p>The boy whose highest ambition had been to become a village -stone-cutter, and whose home had been in his poor old grandfather's -cottage, became at once a member of Signor Faliero's family, living in -his palace, having everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> that money could buy at his command, and -daily receiving instruction from the best sculptors of Venice.</p> - -<p>But he was not in the least spoiled by this change in his fortunes. He -remained simple, earnest, and unaffected. He worked as hard to acquire -knowledge and skill in art as he had worked to become a dexterous -stone-cutter.</p> - -<p>Antonio Canova's career from the day on which he moulded the butter into -a lion was steadily upward; and when he died, in 1822, he was not only -one of the most celebrated sculptors of his time, but one of the -greatest, indeed, of all time.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_DOLLS_DRESSMAKER" id="THE_LITTLE_DOLLS_DRESSMAKER">THE LITTLE DOLLS' DRESSMAKER—(<i>Continued.</i>)</a></h2> - -<h4>ADAPTED FROM CHARLES DICKENS.</h4> - -<h3>BY MRS. ZADEL B. GUSTAFSON.</h3> - -<p>"How's my Jenny?" the man stammered, looking down at the tiny creature -in her chair. Jenny never looked so little as when she was alone with -her father. "How's my Jenny Wren, best of children?"</p> - -<p>"Go away," said the little voice, sharp and harsh with pain and shame. -"Go away to your corner." She held her hands up between them.</p> - -<p>This father, who did nothing for his child, except to make her feel -ashamed and grieved, shook from head to foot as he stood before her. His -cheeks were blotched with patches of dull yellow and patches of dark -red. His clothes were so torn and worn they hardly held together on him, -and when he tried to put up his hand to his scanty gray hair, he made -all sorts of motions with it before he could get it to his head.</p> - -<p>How do you think it would seem to you, my happy children of good and -loving parents, to look on such a man as this, miserable and shameful -from head to foot, and brought to such ruin by himself, and then have to -say to yourself, "It is my father"?</p> - -<p>The children on the street laughed and hooted at him as he came -staggering home to his little lame daughter. But, oh! it wasn't funny to -little Jenny Wren.</p> - -<p>She pointed to the chair that stood against the wall, farthest away from -her own, and he went past it two or three times before he could reach it -and sit down.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you bad child!" cried Jenny, in a broken voice. "Come, come, you -know what I'm waiting for. If there's any money left, let me take care -of it. Put it here," striking the arm of her chair; "all you have left; -every cent."</p> - -<p>If Jenny had not spoken sharply, even crossly, she could not have made -her "child" mind at all.</p> - -<p>He fumbled with his pockets, which looked so much like the other holes -in his clothes, and at last he stumbled toward her and laid down a few -coins.</p> - -<p>"Is this all?" Jenny asked. It was very little.</p> - -<p>"All; got no more; gentleman's word for it."</p> - -<p>Lizzie heard most of this sad scene in her little room overhead, and -when she heard the father go groping up the stairs, and fall heavily on -his bed in the room next to hers, she hurried down to Jenny with her -heart full of pity and love.</p> - -<p>"What are you thinking of, Jenny darling?" she said, laying her hand on -the bright hair which was now shaken down over the small misshapen -shoulders, and covered the whole tiny figure with its soft yellow waves.</p> - -<p>"I was thinking," said Jenny, with her small chin in her hands, "what I -would do to <i>him</i> if he should turn out to be a drunkard."</p> - -<p>"Him" always meant the husband little Jenny firmly believed was some -time going to come for her and take her out of all her trouble.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but he won't," said Lizzie, cheerfully. "You'll take care of that -beforehand."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I shall try to take care of it beforehand; but, Lizzie, you know, -he might deceive me. Oh, my dear, I <i>couldn't</i> bear it in <i>him</i>. I would -do some dreadful thing to him—I know I should."</p> - -<p>"No, you wouldn't, dear."</p> - -<p>"Well," said the little creature, after a pause, and speaking in her -softer voice again, "you generally know best, Lizzie; but, oh! you -haven't got a bad child to make you sick and tired!" And then the poor -little dolls' dressmaker cried with her head on Lizzie's shoulder.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One day Lizzie had a holiday, and she and Jenny set out to walk into the -city by the pleasant river-side. Lizzie carried Jenny's little -scrap-basket on her arm, and they were in luck, for a man driving a -market wagon saw the small figure and the crutch, with the beautiful -hair flowing around them, and stopped his horses, nodded respectfully to -Lizzie, and asked if they wouldn't like a lift. So they rode into -London.</p> - -<p>"You'll like my fairy godmother," said Jenny, after the teamster put -them down, as they went along the narrow street of St. Mary Axe. "He has -a very nice old face and a long white beard."</p> - -<p>"He!" said Lizzie, wondering.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, he!" Jenny answered, promptly. "A man can be a godmother if -he's the right kind, can't he?"</p> - -<p>They stopped in front of a yellow house with the blinds drawn down. -Jenny struck the door smartly with her crutch, and it was opened by a -man in an old-fashioned coat with long skirts and wide pockets. He was -old; the top of his head was bald and shining, and long gray hair -beginning just above his ears flowed down and mixed with his beard.</p> - -<p>"It's a holiday, godmother," said Jenny, smiling at him, "and I've -brought my Lizzie-Mizzie-Wizzie I've told you of, you know. Godmother's -name's Riah," she added, turning to Lizzie.</p> - -<p>The old man bowed very low to Lizzie, and helped Jenny over the sill.</p> - -<p>"I've come for more waste," said Jenny, meaning the remnants of lace, -ribbon, beads, and other finery, which with other odd things were on -sale in the shop where this quiet old man was the clerk.</p> - -<p>He led them into this shop at the back of the house, and when Jenny had -picked out and paid for what she needed, she said,</p> - -<p>"Now take us up to your garden, godmother. We've got all day, and -there's some lunch, and Lizzie's going to read to me. Come."</p> - -<p>The old man looked pleased, and went before them to the second floor, -and then up a narrow flight of steps to a door in the roof. Pushing this -door aside, he came down and carried Jenny up, and Lizzie followed.</p> - -<p>As they came out upon the roof, a light cool wind caught up Jenny's -bright hair, and Lizzie exclaimed, "How kind you are, Mr. Riah, to let -us come up here!"</p> - -<p>And it was a pleasant place.</p> - -<p>An old canvas awning stretched between three of the chimneys made a nice -shade, without shutting out the view on any side. A square of -bright-colored carpet was spread on the roof under the awning; around -the big blackened chimney a green creeper had been trained, and together -with some boxes of evergreens and flowers made the place look and smell -like a garden.</p> - -<p>The girls sat down, and invited Mr. Riah to sit by them, and have some -of the fruit and sandwiches they had brought. But just as he was about -to do this, a thin, fretful voice called out from below,</p> - -<p>"Where are you, old chap?"</p> - -<p>"It's my master," said Mr. Riah, hurrying away.</p> - -<p>"His master!" repeated Lizzie, in surprise.</p> - -<p>Jenny nodded her head, and looked vexed.</p> - -<p>"Godmother's poor," said she, "but a good fairy for all that. This ain't -his place, and these ain't his things I buy. He works for somebody else, -just as we do, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> somebody else gets the most of him, just as they get -the most of us, Lizzie-Mizzie-Wizzie. Never saw the man, but I suspect -he's a beast."</p> - -<p>"Sh! they're coming," said Lizzie.</p> - -<p>The old man, followed by a young slim man with a thin foxy face, came -out upon the roof. Lizzie rose, with her book in her hand.</p> - -<p>"I can't get up, whoever you are," said Jenny, promptly, "because my -back's bad and my legs are queer."</p> - -<p>"This is my master, Mr. Fledgeby," said Mr. Riah, as he came forward.</p> - -<p>"Don't look like anybody's master," exclaimed Jenny.</p> - -<p>"This, sir," the old man went on, "is a little dressmaker for little -people.—Explain to the master, Jenny."</p> - -<p>"Dressmaker for dolls," said Jenny, hitching her chin and her eyes with -that look which made her seem so old and sharp and wise. "They're very -difficult to fit, too, Mr. Master Fledgeby, because their figures are so -uncertain; you never know where to expect their waists."</p> - -<p>"This is the little one's friend," said Mr. Riah, pointing to Lizzie. -"Worthy girls both, sir. They are busy early and late, and at times, -when they have a holiday, they take to book-learning."</p> - -<p>"Not much good to be got out of that," said Mr. Fledgeby.</p> - -<p>"Depends upon the person," exclaimed Jenny, with a snap of her teeth, -that made it seem as if her eyes snapped too.</p> - -<p>"The way I came to know them," said the old man, "was by Miss Jenny's -coming to buy of our remnants and waste for her work."</p> - -<p>"She's been buying that basketful to-day, I suppose, then?" Mr. Fledgeby -asked.</p> - -<p>"I suppose she has," cried Jenny, with another little snap, "and paying -for it too, most likely."</p> - -<p>"Let's have a look at it," said the foxy-faced young man. "How much for -this, now?"</p> - -<p>"Two precious silver shillings. Put it down, please; it's paid," Jenny -said.</p> - -<p>He set the basket down, but not until he had poked his finger about in -it.</p> - -<p>"Do <i>you</i> buy anything here, miss?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," said Lizzie.</p> - -<p>"Do you <i>sell</i> anything?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>Jenny put up her hand, and pulled Lizzie down beside her.</p> - -<p>"We come here to rest, sir. It roars down there," waving her hand toward -the city, "and it sometimes smokes up here," lightly touching the big -chimney where she sat. "But it's so high, and you see the clouds rushing -on above the narrow streets, and you feel as if you were dead."</p> - -<p>"How do you feel when you are dead?" asked Mr. Fledgeby, staring at her -in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Oh, full of peace and thankfulness," said the little creature, smiling. -"You don't work, you just rest, and you hear the people who are alive -crying and working and calling to one another down in the close, dark, -noisy streets, and you pity them, for the burden has fallen off from -you, and you feel so strange, so easy, and light."</p> - -<p>They all looked at her in silence.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_009.jpg" width="400" height="311" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">"I THOUGHT I SAW YOU COME UP OUT OF YOUR GRAVE."</span> -</div> - -<p>"Why, it is only just now," she said, turning to old Mr. Riah, "that I -thought I saw you come up out of your grave. You came up through the -dark narrow door in the roof, and you were all bent over, and hot and -tired; but then you took a breath, and stood up straight, and looked -round at the sky, and the wind blew your white beard on your breast, and -your life down in the dark was over—until <i>you</i> called him back to -life."</p> - -<p>Her voice changed as she said these last words with a sudden little snap -at Mr. Fledgeby. "<i>Why</i> did you call him back? <i>You</i> are not dead, you -know. Go down to life." She pointed one little forefinger, and turned -her small head, and shook her bright hair, and looked wonderfully like a -small cunning bird of much golden plumage.</p> - -<p>As they started to go down, she caught at Mr. Riah's long gown. "Don't -be gone long," said she. "Come back and be dead." And they heard the -sweet voice following after, more and more faintly, half calling, half -singing, "Come up and be dead, come up and be dead."</p> - -<p>"My dear," said Jenny that night, when they were at home again and going -to bed, "the master <i>is</i> a beast, and he wants to eat up my godmother," -which was the little creature's odd way of saying that she felt sure old -Mr. Riah worked very hard for very little money under the foxy-faced -young man he called his master.</p> - -<h4>[<span class="smcap">to be continued</span>.]</h4> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;"><a name="DOTS_LETTER" id="DOTS_LETTER"></a> -<img src="images/ill_010.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h2>DOT'S LETTER.</h2> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Here's a picture of Dot</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">As she sat at her ease</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">With a letter she'd got.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">"Dear Dot," it began,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">"We so want you to come!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">'Twas to-day we began</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Our new plan of 'At Home.'</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">"There is Mollie and me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">And our new dolls, you know,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Whom you're certain to see.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">We give plum-cake at tea,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Besides sweets when you go.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Your friend I remain,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">With much love, as you know."</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2><a name="THE_REHEARSAL" id="THE_REHEARSAL">THE REHEARSAL.</a></h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/ill_011.jpg" width="400" height="277" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">A duet, if you please, between Norman and Grace;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Sister Olive is player; she's there in her place;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Tiny Grace is Soprano, and Norman is Bass.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Little Grace is so eager she can not keep time,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">But runs on ahead without reason or rhyme.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"Sing slower!" cries Norman; "it is not a race;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Still slower, Soprano, and <i>do</i> keep your place."</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"It is Olive," says Gracie; "what <i>is</i> she about?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">She waited too long there, and quite put me out."</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"No, indeed," answers Olive, that mark means a 'rest';</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">You don't understand, Grace—indeed I know best."</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"Try again. Ah! that's better, by far than before;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Now if people were here, they would cry out 'Encore,'</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Which means, you know, Gracie, 'Please sing it once more.'"</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2><a name="A_MAN_OF_STRAW" id="A_MAN_OF_STRAW">"A MAN OF STRAW."</a></h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 236px;"> -<img src="images/ill_012.jpg" width="236" height="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">Finch and Goldie,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Redpole fine,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">In the corn field</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Came to dine.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">"Oh! what is that?"</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">They startled cry,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">All in a flutter</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Rushing by.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">"Look, silly birds,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">And you will know</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">It can not hurt,"</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Cawed Father Crow.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">"Tis but a thing</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">'Gainst nature's law,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 20em;">Only a sham—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 21em;">'A man of straw.'"</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2><a name="THE_BATH-ROOM" id="THE_BATH-ROOM">THE BATH-ROOM.</a></h2> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Cries Tom, in the bath, "I'm a seal at the Zoo."</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">Says Ted, on the rug, "Then I'm glad I'm not you."</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"Ah, but, Ted," answers Tommy, "you know you're my brother;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 14em;">And if <i>I</i> am a seal, why, you <i>must</i> be another!"</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;"> -<img src="images/ill_013.jpg" width="319" height="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX" id="OUR_POST_OFFICE_BOX"></a> -<img src="images/ill_014.jpg" width="600" height="251" alt="OUR POST-OFFICE BOX" /> -</div> - -<p>We want to tell you a little story, by way of introducing the letters -this week. The other day three boys we know went off for an afternoon's -skating. The ice was as smooth as glass, and they flew over it like the -wind, sometimes describing great circles, sometimes spinning around like -tops, then cutting all sorts of pretty fancy figures, and again racing -along as fast as their skates could go.</p> - -<p>After a while Fred paused for breath. On the bank of the pond he saw a -schoolmate, who was watching the sport with wistful eyes.</p> - -<p>"I declare, boys," said Fred to Harry and Phil, "I don't believe that -fellow has had a chance to skate this winter. He hasn't any skates, I'm -sure."</p> - -<p>"Skates?—not he. A good many days, I'm afraid, he don't get any -dinner," answered Harry, as he finished a splendid pigeon-wing.</p> - -<p>"Well"—Fred smothered a little sigh as he spoke, but he spoke -bravely—"I think it's mean for us to have so much fun while he has -none, and here goes! I say, Dan," he shouted to the boy on the bank, -"come, take a turn on the ice. I'll lend you my skates awhile."</p> - -<p>Dan needed a little urging, but the other boys, who liked their comrade -none the less because he happened to be poorer than themselves, -insisted, and the rest of the time he was among the skaters instead of -Fred.</p> - -<p>They all went home happier than usual, for those who do kind things are -always repaid by the double delight they feel, and those who accept -kindness gracefully are the happier for it too. How many of you boys and -girls are enjoying the luxury of helping others along the way? We like -to think that every day some of you are making the world gladder by -simply doing the best you can wherever you happen to be. Do not wait for -the chance to distinguish yourselves by great deeds, but seize the -little opportunities as they come. It may be only amusing a fretful -child, or helping a dull one to learn a hard lesson, or sewing a rip in -an unlucky brother's gloves, or, as these three little fellows did, -loaning a pair of skates, but believe me no unselfish action is ever -done in vain.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Palmyra, New York</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I have a nice auntie in Washington, who sends me <span class="smcap">Young People</span> every -week, and I have all but the first six numbers. I was out at -Shortsville this summer visiting my cousins; and while I was there -we had the play given in <span class="smcap">Young People</span> No. 92, "Mother Michel and -Her Cat," and it was a great success. I was Mother Michel.</p> - -<p>I have a toy Mr. Stubbs, sent me by a kind gentleman in Washington -who had read the story of "Toby Tyler." We have three birds— But -there! I must not write any more, for if I do I fear my letter will -be too long to publish, and I want it to be printed, as I would -like to surprise my auntie. I am glad Mr. Otis is having so good a -time with his little yacht.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Mina L. C</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The little people who, like Mina, wish Mr. Otis a pleasant voyage, will -be glad to read another letter from his pen:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">On the Pasquotank</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Since it is neither a large nor important water-course, some of the -readers of <span class="smcap">Young People</span> may not know where the Pasquotank River is; -but as it can readily be found on the map, those who care to read -more about the cruise of the <i>Toby Tyler</i> should learn about it -from their books, in order to better understand the direction taken -by the little yacht after it came out of the Dismal Swamp. It will -be remembered that the yacht arrived at the terminus of the canal -quite late at night, so that it was impossible for any of the party -to judge of the river they were to enter; but they had been told it -was very crooked, and, without any other reason, all believed the -journey of twenty-three miles to Elizabeth City would be a tedious -one.</p> - -<p>Never were travellers more pleasantly surprised than were those on -the <i>Toby</i> during that Saturday morning sail.</p> - -<p>The start was made about eight o'clock, just after the birds had -cleared the breakfast things away, and were beginning their -forenoon concert. The large audience, composed of the crickets, -flowers, and leaves, were all in the best of moods, because the -singing was really good, as well as in perfect harmony, and -everything around was as bright and gay as possible, save, perhaps, -the steward, who had fallen against the boiler and burned one of -his ears.</p> - -<p>The first two miles sailed after the last canal lock had been -passed was not different from the trip through the swamp, for the -little stream which ran into the river from the canal had been -widened and straightened until it had almost ceased to be a natural -water-course. But when the yacht glided around a sharp curve of the -stream into the river, each one rubbed his eyes to assure himself -that he was awake, and not dreaming of some land enchanted by the -perfume and beauty of the flowers that were everywhere in the -greatest profusion. They had crept to the very tops of the tallest -trees, and then reaching down to the water, had left behind long, -beautifully colored wreaths; they hung from every branch, and -peeped from behind each tree trunk, disputing possession with the -long gray moss, that seemed suddenly to have grown pale because of -the almost overpowering perfume. Each side of the river seemed to -be a bank of flowers, from out of which the branches of the trees -rose like stems, while one could almost fancy the country one -immense dish of water, in which flowers had been placed profusely, -and that the wind had blown them apart, leaving a narrow channel -for the yacht.</p> - -<p>In the midst of such beauty the <i>Toby</i> seemed suddenly to have -grown dingy-looking and dirty, and although she was at once decked -out in her brightest flags and most brilliant adornments, the -flowers put to blush any such feeble attempts at beautifying.</p> - -<p>There was no question as to the truth of the statement that the -river was crooked; it was much as if some one had marked out a -number of W's, into which the water had flowed. It was necessary to -sail almost directly first toward one bank, and then back, in the -opposite direction, to the other, in order to keep in the channel; -but no one regretted the devious course that made the journey -longer, since the way was through the flower-trimmed trees on water -so smooth and mirror-like that the foliage appeared as if painted -on it.</p> - -<p>Sometimes, when sailing around a bend in the river, the voyagers -would come suddenly upon the gnarled and bleached trunk of some -gigantic tree that uprose from amid the blooming forest like a -withered stalk in a bouquet, causing everything around it to look -more bright and cheerful because of the contrast.</p> - -<p>There had been times during the journey when the yacht did not move -through the water fast enough to satisfy some of the party, but -during this sail there was not one who did not regret he was -leaving so quickly a river so beautiful as this.</p> - -<p>Although the Pasquotank is a charming stream throughout its entire -course, its banks are not thus literally lined with flowers more -than ten miles, but after that the scenery is sufficiently -beautiful to make it interesting without approaching so near to -enchantment.</p> - -<p>When the <i>Toby</i> was about ten miles from Elizabeth City a -draw-bridge was seen just ahead. It was not different from most -other bridges, and yet it was approached with wonder and curiosity, -for on it were nearly as many negroes as could be crowded there -without too much risk that some of them would fall overboard. There -were old men and women, young men and girls, and children of all -ages, from a good-sized boy down to the tiniest and blackest of -darky babies. Perhaps they were surprised at seeing the little -yacht coming so swiftly toward them; certain it is that those on -the <i>Toby</i> were surprised at seeing such a company, and awaited the -meeting with no small degree of curiosity.</p> - -<p>"Is yer gwine ter 'Liz'beth?" asked an old gray-headed darky, as he -opened the draw of the bridge cautiously, as if he feared the yacht -might escape him if he made ready for her coming too quickly.</p> - -<p>On being told that the yacht was on her way to Elizabeth, he, -assisted by nearly all present, told the reason of the assembling. -They were all anxious to reach the city in order to attend a -Conference which was to be held on the following day; the steamer, -due some hours earlier, had not arrived, and they were waiting for -her with many fears as to whether she would come during the day. As -soon as the story had been told, the entire party began to plead -that they be taken on board the <i>Toby</i>, with a force and -earnestness that resulted in a terrible din.</p> - -<p>There was not room enough on the little boat for one-tenth of the -would-be passengers; but it was almost impossible to convince the -anxious ones of that most palpable fact, and after every one on the -yacht had screamed himself nearly hoarse in the effort, they were -made to understand that but five of the party could be taken. It -was comical, the sight they presented as they tried to decide as to -whom the fortunate ones should be; each one urged that he or she -was most needed at the Conference, and as each was overruled by the -rest, they would loudly urge their claims to the party on the -yacht, one old man proposing that he be taken on board, "an' leave -der odder fool niggers ter fight it out."</p> - -<p>It was fully half an hour before the question was decided, and then -the <i>Toby</i> went on her way, with an addition to her passenger list -in the shape of five as happy and inquisitive darkies as ever -sailed down the Pasquotank Paver. They peered in at the cabin, -careful not to touch anything, but anxious to see all the little -room contained; they examined the machinery in the engine-room -critically, while the oldest tried to explain how the boat could be -propelled by the confusing-looking assortment of steel rods and -bars. Then they went forward, where they gave themselves up to the -enjoyment of the hour, as enthusiastic in their praise of the -little steamer as one could wish they should be. After their -delight had subsided in a measure, they began to be troubled about -the amount they might be called upon to pay for their passage, but -all their joy returned when they were told no money would be -received. From that moment they were as happy as children, and -insisted on singing a great number of camp-meeting songs as a means -of showing their gratitude.</p> - -<p>It was ten o'clock when the <i>Toby</i> was made fast to the dock at -Elizabeth City, where the passengers were landed, evidently sorry -to leave the little boat, even though it was to a Conference they -were going.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">James Otis</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Germantown, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I sent you a letter a little while ago, but when I read in the last -number about somebody seeing a dandelion on December 9, I thought I -would write and tell you that to-day my cousin came in, and holding -up a dandelion, said, "Look at that!" We have a pet cat. I went -skating last Monday, and saw a man break through the ice.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;">W. S. N.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Woodside, near Lincolnton, North Carolina</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p><span class="smcap">My dear Young Friends</span>,—There are so many things I want to talk to -you about that I am almost afraid to begin this letter, for fear I -may take up too much room in the precious columns of the -Post-office Box.</p> - -<p>Our great feast and Christmas pleasure is over. The tree, thanks to -your dear, generous, kind little hearts, was a perfect success. We -had some nice garments of clothing for them all, toys and books for -the children, and candy for every one. They were so happy! I would -have given almost anything to have had you all here to see the tree -you had done so much to make, and to see the happy school. Some -little ones who were so eager to taste it, and could not get into -their candy quickly enough, sucked the sweet through the lace bags -that it was in. In fact, we were all very happy; as my children -said, it was the "best part" of Christmas to us all.</p> - -<p>More new scholars keep coming all the time. We want to start a -school also for the many poor little white children, who need one -as badly as the colored ones did; so you see I will have use for -the books, papers, and all the other things you may send.</p> - -<p>I must thank the lady who sent the presents to my own family; also -thanks for the <i>Scribner</i> and <i>Nation</i> sent me; and, once more, -thanks to the little boy who sent me the pretty Christmas card. The -work on the school building will begin immediately. I will write -you when we have it done. I have kept all your names; they are all -to go in there in paint on tablets. I have not quite decided <i>how</i>. -I will write you again when it is done, for I am going to do that -part myself. Packages, Sunday-school papers, and cards have come -from kind hearts and hands in many places, and in every instance -have been appreciated and used where they were needed. The one cent -sent by many little children was accepted with much pleasure, as -were the nice large boxes of clothing, candy, and toys sent by many -kind ladies. Uncle Pete was radiant when he came to wish a Happy -New Year in his nice suit that had grown on the tree for him, with -all the others in their nice wristlets, mitts, and the other -welcome gifts that they received. They have been smiling ever since -Christmas. Adieu, dear friends.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;">Truly yours,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Richardson</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>Mrs. Richardson inclosed as usual a list of the names of the kind -friends who make her their almoner, but we have not room for it among -the good things which crowd the Post-office Box this week. They will -each please accept her general acknowledgment as intended to include -every individual.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Fayette, New York</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I am a little boy six years old. I have not taken <span class="smcap">Harper's Young -People</span> very long, but I like it very much. I have a pet cat which I -call Nero. I have also nine bantams; one I call Gyp, and I often -bring him in the house and set him on the back of a chair, and then -I say to him, "Crow, Gyp," and then he crows very loud. My pa has a -farm about two miles from the village where we live. We often drive -over there, and I enjoy it very much. I have no brothers nor -sisters, but I have a nice little playmate named Edward, who lives -across the street. I am just beginning to write a little, but not -well enough to write myself, so I told mamma what to write.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Roy H</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Oakdale, Pennsylvania</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I thought I would write you a letter and tell you of two nice -games, one for in and the other for out doors. The one for the -house is called "Going to Jerusalem." One person plays the piano, -or makes some kind of a noise. Place the chairs in a row across the -room, every other chair in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> opposite direction, one less than -there are players to go round the chairs, and when the music stops, -each player must sit down, and of course one will be left out. Then -one chair is taken away, and the person who could not get seated -can not play any more, and so on until there are but two players -going round one chair, and the one who gets seated goes to -Jerusalem, and wins the game.</p> - -<p>The other is called, "I Spy the Wolf." One is wolf, and the others -hide their eyes and count, and the wolf hides, and when done -counting they go and hunt the wolf, who when spied runs and tries -to tag somebody before they tag base, and if so, both are wolf. -When the wolf is spied, the person must say, "I spy the wolf," and -run and tag base. The game is finished when all are wolf.</p> - -<p>I am ten years old. I found two dandelions to-day, January 9.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Mary E. O</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Palatka, Florida</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I live on the St. John's River, opposite Palatka. We have a fine -orange grove. We are having bananas this winter, although most of -our neighbors lost theirs by the cold last winter. We will have -plenty of guavas next summer if we don't have a "freeze," and I -hope we may not. I wish some of the readers of <span class="smcap">Young People</span> were -here; we would have lots of fun. I have a puppy three months old. -His name is Toby Tyler. I hope Mr. Otis will come to Palatka with -his boat. I am nine years old.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">T. Robert P</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We hope the bright eyes that have been watching for the flowers that -this mild winter has made, like Ben Buttles, "dretful venturesome," will -before many weeks of ice and snow be reporting from the South first, and -afterward from colder localities, the earliest out-peeping of the spring -darlings. There is a stanza of Mrs. Whitney's which we like very much:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 13em;">"God does not send us strange flowers every year;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 15em;">When the spring winds blow o'er the pleasant places,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 15em;">The same dear things lift up the same sweet faces,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 17em;">The violet is here."</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>We must have storm and snow first, dears; but courage! the violets will -be here by-and-by.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Calumet, Michigan</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Will you make room for another stranger?—one who from her cold -Northern home, wishes to come into a corner of the Post-office Box -to be warmed and comforted. Will not some of the writers to the -Post-office Box tell of their Christmas vacations, and how Santa -Claus treated them on his journey round the world Christmas-eve?</p> - -<p>We have a debating society here, in which all the boys and girls, -and grown folks too, are very much interested. We meet once a week, -and have, besides the debate, one or two essays, a reading, -declamations, and music, and altogether have a very enjoyable time.</p> - -<p>Then we go skating on the lake, and coast on the terrific-looking -hill behind the town. We go with our sleds to the top of the hill, -and slide all the way down, and away out on the lake, without -stopping.</p> - -<p>We have a very pleasant school, too. Where the boats come in, in -the summer, we can look right down over the town, and see -everything that is going on.</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Ray R</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Buffalo, New York</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>I am a little boy three years old. Have taken <span class="smcap">Young People</span> from the -first number. Mamma reads the stories and letters, and tells me -about them, and I am every day measuring myself to be big and do my -own reading. On the 26th of December we saw dandelions peeping out -of the grass, and looking out to Lake Erie, wondering what had -become of all the boats of last summer. Mamma had a bunch of cherry -blossoms on New-Year's Day. One of our neighbors cut a bunch from a -cherry-tree in November. The buds were very large then, after the -warm rains. The water was changed every day; now it is covered with -blossoms, and the leaves are coming out.</p> - -<p>I have a little sister Ruby, and we have great fun together. When -papa brings <span class="smcap">Young People</span>, he takes her on his lap; then she teases -to have me get up, and says, "Come, Bover," and "Up, Bover," and -will not look at the pictures until I am up too. Then we enjoy them -together. Mamma is writing this for me. I hope soon to write for -myself. A Happy New Year to <span class="smcap">Harper's Young People</span>!</p></blockquote> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Ernest</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h4>C. Y. P. R. U.</h4> - -<p><span class="smcap">"Old Mortality</span>."—Sir Walter Scott's novel of <i>Old Mortality</i> is one of -the recognized masterpieces of English literature. Its scenes are laid -in Scotland during the reign of Charles the Second and James, his -successor, a period which was characterized by intense religious -excitement, and fiery struggles between the Royalists, on the one hand, -and the Covenanters, or Presbyterians, on the other. In this novel -Colonel Grahame, of Claverhouse, cool, dauntless, and insensible to -pity, is one of the central figures. There is a tender love-story -running through the book, but its main interest, after all, is derived -from its splendid descriptions of battles and forays, which stir the -blood to enthusiasm, and rouse the martial impulse which is latent in -the most tranquil natures. The third, fourth, and fifth chapters of <i>Old -Mortality</i> are full of power, and of that vivid word-painting which is -the highest style of writing. They possess the Homeric quality of -dramatic movement and majestic strength, and for reading aloud on a -chill winter night, when the wind is raging outside and the fire is -bright within, they are surpassed by nothing else that the Postmistress -remembers.</p> - -<p>"Old Mortality" himself is scarcely an ideal character, as Sir Walter -drew his portrait from a peasant who for thirty years wandered through -the western districts of Ayr, Galloway, and Dumfries, spending his time -in freshening the inscriptions on the graves of the martyrs. Mounted on -a gaunt white pony, his gray locks straggling beneath an immense blue -"bonnet," his old coat of hodden-gray the worse for years of hard -service, his feet incased in hobnailed shoes, and his limbs covered with -leggings of strong black cloth, this old man, whose real name was Robert -Paterson, went from one church-yard to another among the wild moors and -lonely hills, removing the moss from the rude tombstones, and deepening -the fading letters with his chisel. He lived from house to house, -entertained by hospitable farmers, who revered him, and finally, when -very aged, was found expiring upon the highway, his faithful white pony -standing on guard by his side.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">Willie F</span>.—Your idea that time spent in the study of the dead languages -is lost time, and that you would prefer to devote yourself wholly to -your native tongue, is perhaps a natural one, but it is based on an -error. Latin and Greek are dead languages in the sense that they are not -spoken in any land by living people to-day. But they are not dead in the -sense of having lost their vitality. They enter largely into our modern -languages, and no one can be a precise and thorough scholar in English -without some acquaintance with Latin at least. Study your Latin grammar -patiently, as your teacher advises, and though you do not yourself see -what good it will do you, believe me that after a while you will find -yourself repaid. There are some things which we must acquire by way of -discipline, for it is the disciplined mind which does the best work with -ease, just as the trained soldier can march farther and fight better -than the raw recruit.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Postmistress is fond of looking up the history of words. Some common -words have a very curious history. For instance, demijohn, a glass -bottle covered with basket-work, is a sort of puzzler. Why is it -demijohn? Why John at all? Or if John, why half-john? The truth is, it -has nothing to do with John; but was first manufactured at a town called -Damaghan, in Khorassan, a province of Persia, a place once renowned for -its glass-workers.—Calico, which is so dainty and pretty, and which the -little girls wear to school in summer, derives its name from Calicut in -India, from which handsome cotton goods were once imported to England.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There are two articles in this paper that we want the members of the C. Y. P. R. U. -to read, because they will add to the stock of solid and -valuable information that the society is endeavoring to store away in -eager, appreciative minds, viz., "The Waves at Work," by Mr. Charles -Barnard, and "The Scullion who became a Sculptor," by Mr. George Cary -Eggleston. But there are two others that we want the boys and girls to -make the basis of prompt and energetic action. To begin with, we want -the article "On Cigarette Smoking" to produce such an impression that -the stoves and ranges in all houses inhabited by the coming men of the -next generation shall have a grand smoke, consuming in the operation all -the compounded horrors in the way of bad paper, bad tobacco, dirt, -opium, etc., that we now see defiling lips and destroying the nerve and -brain power of the gallant lads to whom the world will soon look for the -wit, the wisdom, the sagacity and the command, that shall keep her -moving in the right direction. Then we want nobody to omit the sketch of -"A School Restaurant," with its pretty illustrations. Papas and mammas -do not like to say no when their pets ask them for pocket-money, and the -pocket-money is nearly sure to go to the confectioner's till. Suppose -you all ask your parents and teachers to consider our idea of a school -dinner nicely served every day. Most of you are sensible folk, and know -just as well as your physicians, or the Postmistress does how much -brighter, better, and rosier you would feel and look if you could have a -hearty nourishing meal to sustain you through the labors and pleasures -of the latter half of the day.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.</h3> - -<h3>No. 1.</h3> - -<h3>HIDDEN TREES.</h3> - -<p>1. Please bring me a pin, Ella dear? 2. We could not sleep last night, -for we heard the croaking of ravens. 3. Bring me the map, Lena, and help -me find the Amazon. 4. Elma is going to boarding-school, and so are -Jessie and Sue. 5. Has Helen her books, and has Arthur his slate? 6. I -was stung by a wasp or a bee, Charlie. 7. Don't go near the fire, Emma. -8. Tom, bring me your cap, please. 9. What did you do with the tape, -Arthur?</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Pschye</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>No. 2.</h3> - -<h3>CHARADE.</h3> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 18em;">My first is sometimes used</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">When boys are very bad.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 18em;">My second's oft abused,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">And then 'tis very sad.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 18em;">A pet name is my third,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">To boys it does belong.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 18em;">My whole's a native bird,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 19em;">Three notes compose its song.</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Toby Tyler</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>No. 3.</h3> - -<h3>NUMERICAL ENIGMA.</h3> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td align="left">I am composed of 49 letters.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 5, 24, 39, 24, 31, 33, 29 is a peculiarity of the moth's tongue.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 12, 42, 25, 38, 40, 10 is something the bee uses.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 1, 22, 26 is peculiar to the feet of some birds.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 1, 46, 12, 2, 14, 2 is a kind of deer.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 19, 43, 19, 24 is a large bird.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 11, 32, 44, 28 is an animal.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 23, 16, 3, 46, 7, 42, 28, 12, 4, 42, 45, 36, 45 signifies change.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 9, 17, 47, 21, 49, 49, 13, 8 enables insects to feel.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 18, 21, 29, 30, 45, 46, 37, 6, 45 is the first change of a caterpillar.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 34, 15, 49 is part of a fish.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My 42, 28, 17, 48, 20, 21, 42, 28, 4, 30, 10, 41, 21, 24, 45 is a strange animal.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">My whole contains a useful animal.</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Paul</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>No. 4.</h3> - -<h3>BEHEADINGS.</h3> - -<p>Behead a sharp, quick noise, and leave part of a chain. Behead a wooden -shoe, and leave a bulky piece of timber. Behead learning, and leave -metal in the rough. Behead a part of a carriage, and leave a part of the -body. Behead a useful implement, and leave an apartment. Behead soft -mud, and leave delicious ripeness. Behead part of a whip, and leave a -tree.</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Little Molly</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>No. 5.</h3> - -<h3>A RIDDLE.</h3> - -<p>I am numerous, yet but one. I am found in the rare and curious, and -still am in general use all over the English-speaking world. I am found -in every school-room, and no collegiate course is complete without me. I -am valuable in geography and history, and the poets could not well get -along without my aid.</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 23em;"><span class="smcap">Edna A. Guernsey</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3>ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 114.</h3> - -<h3>No. 1.</h3> - -<p>Addition.—1. Hoodwink. 2. Feather. 3. Capuchin. 4. Philippine. 5. -Cornice.</p> - -<p>Subtraction.—1. Reserved. 2. Coward. 3. Basket. 4. Market. 5. Socotra.</p> - -<p>Multiplication.—1. Pa-pa. 2. So-so.</p> - -<p>Division.—1. Adieux. 2. Tick-tick. 3. Chow-chow. 4. Frou-frou.</p> - -<h3>No. 2.</h3> - -<p class="center">Wink-el-ried.</p> - -<h3>No. 3.</h3> - -<p class="center">Ygdrasil.</p> - -<h3>No. 4.</h3> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center">N</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center">R</td><td align="center">O</td><td align="center">D</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center">R</td><td align="center">O</td><td align="center">M</td><td align="center">A</td><td align="center">N</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">N</td><td align="center">O</td><td align="center">M</td><td align="center">I</td><td align="center">N</td><td align="center">A</td><td align="center">L</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center">D</td><td align="center">A</td><td align="center">N</td><td align="center">D</td><td align="center">Y</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center">N</td><td align="center">A</td><td align="center">Y</td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center"></td><td align="center">L</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Ralph Birdsall, Agnes -L. Hawley, Edgar Seeman, J. C., "Queen Bess," Louis Burnett, Amy Lee, -Grace Arrowsmith, "Peggy," Boland T. C., "Mother Bunch," Earle Demarest, -Schuyler Lamb, "Fill Buster," Mamie and Clara Blank, Robert Andrews, -Jun., Johnnie Miller.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">[<i>For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover.</i>]</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 280px;"><a name="THE_SPECTRE_SPECS" id="THE_SPECTRE_SPECS"></a> -<img src="images/ill_015.jpg" width="280" height="400" alt="" /> -<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 1.</span> -</div> - -<h2>THE SPECTRE SPECS.</h2> - -<p>I have seen a great deal of fun and laughter produced by a very simple -little device, which I call the Spectre Specs.</p> - -<p>A large party of people at a small country hotel were yawning away the -evening, as they often do in such places, when the inspiration seized -one of the most able-bodied yawners to do something to break up the -monotony. Taking into his confidence little Tom Wittles, an admirable -boy, with a large faculty for fun and mischief, he induced that youth to -purloin his grandmother's spectacles. With this modest instrument and a -paint-box belonging to one of the guests, they retired to a bedroom, -where the gentleman painted the surface of the spectacles all over with -white paint, and then neatly cleared a round spot in the centre of each -glass. He then painted a couple of pointed eyebrows on his own forehead -with black, and put on the spectacles. Then he tousled his hair, and -twisted a few threads of white and red worsted amongst it. This gave him -an appearance awful to behold, of which Fig. 1 gives but a very faint -idea.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 356px;"> -<img src="images/ill_016.jpg" width="356" height="400" alt="" /> -<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 2.</span> -</div> - -<p>Thus transformed, he walked into the dimly lighted parlor doorway, and -inquired in a deep voice of the other yawners whether a gentleman of the -name of Samercanderoffsky was boarding in that hotel. There was no more -yawning after that.</p> - -<p>When all the company had completely recovered from their surprise, the -gentleman retired again to his chamber, and began to transform Tom -Wittles. He first painted a pair of eyebrows in the middle of the boy's -forehead, and then slightly altered the eyeballs in the spectacles so as -to give them the appearance of a squint. Placing them on Tom's forehead -just above the real eyebrows, he told him to close his eyes. He led him -into the parlor, and introduced him as the son of Mr. Samercanderoffsky. -Fig. 2 is his portrait. Of course there was no surprise now, but the lad -looked very funny, and produced no end of laughter with his long face -and melancholy expression.</p> - -<p>One word as to the material to be employed in painting the spectacles. -Chinese white, such as artists use, is all that is needed; but as very -few people are apt to own such a thing, perhaps the best plan is to cut -two oval pieces of white paper the shape of the spectacle bows, with a -round hole in the middle, and stick them on the back of the glasses.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/ill_017.jpg" width="700" height="356" alt="" /> -<span class="caption">"WHY SHOULDN'T WE ENJOY OURSELVES?"<br /><br /> -"For it's our delight of a shiny night at this season of the year."</span> -</div> - -<p style="clear:both;"> </p> - -<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Began in No. 101, <span class="smcap">Harper's Young People</span>.</p></div></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, January 24, 1882, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 24, 1882 *** - -***** This file should be named 52745-h.htm or 52745-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/7/4/52745/ - -Produced by Annie R. 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