GETTING READY FOR KUN. 
 
 See page 84. 
 
THE 
 
 Pictorial Budget 
 
 OK 
 
 WONDERS and FUN 
 
 ESPECIALLY DESIQNED FOR 
 
 CHILDHOOD'S HAPPY DAYS. 
 
 COMPRISING FAIRY TALES, COMICAL STORIES, VIVID DESCRIPTIONS OF WONDERFUL THINGS, 
 
 REMARKABLE ANIMALS AND BIRDS, STRANGE ADVENTURES, FUNNY POEMS, 
 
 CARICATURES, GROTESQUE TABLEAUX, ETC., ETC. 
 
 BY 
 
 i 
 
 THE FOLLOWING EMINENT AUTHORS AND ARTISTS: 
 
 MAKY MAPES DODGE, PALMER Cox, J. ESTEN COOKE, F. E. THROOP, F. BLAKE CKOFTON, D. C. BEARD, LAURA F. 
 
 RICHARDS, ARTHUR E. WASHBURNE, JR., CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER, J. M. BAILEY, MARK TWAIN, JOSIAH 
 
 ALLEN'S WIFE, WM. M. CAREY, HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN, F. W. SCHELL, FREDERICK OPPER, 
 
 "SPHYNX," FRANK BEARD, W. TABER, "Boz", GEORGE ADAMS, M. E. N. HATHAWAY, 
 
 LAURIE LORING, MOLLIE MOORE DAVIS, CHARLES E. ADAMS, ROBERT J. BURDETTE, 
 
 AND MANY OTHERS. 
 
 SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 JUVENILE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
I'crvMGHT, GEORGE A. PKLTZ, i- 
 
 DUC.- 
 PSYCH. 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT 
 
brar- 
 
 l^ictorial l-Cudget 
 
 OF 
 
 \\/ onders and H 
 
LIFE'S SUNNY Sl'RIN< i-TIMK. 
 
PICTORIAL BUDGET 
 
 OF 
 
 WONDERS AND FUN 
 
 PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 BY J. ESTEN COOKE. 
 
 I. 
 
 THERE was once upon a time a young 
 man named Paul, who lived in an old 
 city on the Rhine. Paul was the son of a 
 laborer and had learned the trade of a 
 stone-mason ; but at odd times he read all 
 the books he could lay his hands on, until 
 at last he knew all about working in wood 
 and marble, and his neighbors would point 
 after him and say, with a laugh : " There 
 goes Paul, the master-workman!" 
 
 Paul saw that their laughter was good- 
 natured ; but, for all that, they were laugh- 
 ing at him, and he longed to show them 
 that he really was a master of his business. 
 He had another reason also for getting on 
 in the world if he could. He was very much 
 in love with a young girl named Phenie ; 
 but her parents were well-to-do and would 
 not hear of her marrying a poor laborer. 
 So Paul resolved to take the first oppor- 
 tunity to show his skill ; and one day, when 
 he heard that a great church in the Lom- 
 bardic style was to be built in his native 
 town, he thought : " Oh ! if I could only be 
 employed, I would build the church, and 
 that would make my fortune ! " But he was 
 too poor. People were beginning to have 
 a high opinion of him by this time, and 
 might be willing to intrust the work to him, 
 perhaps ; but how could he pay the work- 
 
 men from week to week as the building- 
 went on ? Paul was sitting in his poor gar- 
 ret one night, by the light of a single candle, 
 thinking over these matters in a mournful 
 way, when suddenly he heard a low voice, 
 like the tinkling of a small bell, say : 
 
 "What's the matter, Paul ?" 
 
 Paul started and looked up, for his eyes 
 had been fixed sadly upon the floor. 
 
 "Here I am; don't you see me?" said 
 the tinkling voice. And there, sitting cross- 
 legged on the top of the rusty old extin- 
 guisher of the candlestick, was a small, odd- 
 looking figure of an old man, with long 
 hair and a wide, laughing mouth, with a 
 purple cloak falling from his shoulders, a 
 tall, peaked hat on his head, and shoes with 
 high red heels. 
 
 o 
 
 "Who who are you?" Paul stammered, 
 in great surprise. 
 
 " I am the King of the Goblins," said the 
 small figure, "and I have come to help you. 
 Do you remember the Elm-tree Quarry, 
 where the workmen were hewing out rocks 
 one day, and how you showed them a better 
 quarry, and they went away? Well, my 
 royal palace was behind the Elm-tree 
 Quarry in the mountain, and you prevented 
 it from being discovered. So I'm your 
 friend, Paul. You shall build the great 
 Lombardic church." 
 
 7 
 
PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 Paul started with delight. 
 
 " And you shall marry Phenie." 
 
 " Oh ! " your Royal Highness ! " exclaimed 
 the young man. 
 
 " I mean what I say," continued the King 
 of the Goblins, winking his eyes several 
 times, which seemed to be a habit with him. 
 " I know all about you, Paul ; you have 
 plenty of brains, but no money, like many 
 other people I have known. Send to the 
 burgomasters your application for building 
 the church, and get together your work- 
 men. It's all right; and be sure to engage 
 old Marmorel the sculptor, to do the fine 
 carving in stone." 
 
 " Marmorel, your Highness ! \Yhy, Mar- 
 morel has stopped work ; he has lost his 
 riirht arm ! " 
 
 o 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Paul," said the Goblin, 
 " but do as I direct." 
 
 "Yes oh, yes I will, your Highness'" 
 exclaimed poor Paul, lost in wonder. 
 
 "And now for the gold to pay your work- 
 men, Paul. Here is a purse which you 
 needn't be afraid of emptying. As soon as 
 you get to the bottom of it, it will be full 
 again." 
 
 "Full a^ain, your highness ?" Paul ex- 
 & r j & 
 
 claimed. 
 
 " Don't be bandying words with me, 
 young man!" said the King of the Goblins, 
 with lofty dignity. " Obey my orders, and 
 all will go well. Send in your paper to the 
 burgomasters early to-morrow, and engage 
 your workmen, particularly old Marmorel." 
 
 ' Oh, yes certainly at once imme- 
 diately, your Highness !" Paul cried. 
 
 'That is well," said the Goblin. "And 
 now, good-night ; I have business to attend 
 to before morning." 
 
 Having said this in his little tinkling 
 voice, the goblin slid down from the extin- 
 
 guisher, and, placing his heels together, 
 made Paul a polite bow. He then bounded 
 from the table, lit upon the floor, and walked 
 on his high red heels out of the room. 
 
 II. 
 
 ON the very next morning Paul sent in 
 his application to the burgomasters in fear 
 and trembling; but, to his great astonish- 
 ment, they at once sent for him, and, after 
 asking him a few questions, and looking 
 over his plans again, they told him that they 
 had made up their minds to close the bar- 
 gain with him for building their great Lom- 
 bardic church. 
 
 Paul knew very well that this was the 
 work of the King of the Goblins. He 
 rushed out of the burgomasters' room and 
 hurried off to collect his workmen. They 
 came at his call, for everybody liked the 
 young man and had confidence in him ; and 
 "rv soon the foundation for the church was 
 dug auJ J_- -"Mis began to rise. 
 
 Nobody had ever scon work go on so 
 quickly. The workmen were ready and 
 willing, for Paul paid them promptly every 
 week from his magic purse, which was full 
 of gold again as soon as it was emptied ; 
 and no sooner was a pickaxe lifted than a 
 thousand arms seemed to hurl it into the 
 earth. The shovelfuls of dirt were thrown 
 hundreds of feet away, the large blocks of 
 stone leaped to their places, and Phenie, the 
 young girl Paul loved so dearly, would often 
 come and visit him whilst he was overlook- 
 ing his workmen. At these times Paul 
 would perhaps feel something pulling at the 
 skirts of his coat. He knew it was the 
 King of the Goblins, and he would hold his 
 hand out, and then a pair of small feet 
 would light in it and a burst of goblin laugh- 
 ter would be heard. 
 
PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 " Oh ! what is that, Paul ? " Phenie would found himself face to face with a crowd of 
 exclaim. " Oh, me ! something is tangled his workmen who had thrown down their 
 in my hair ! " 
 
 She did not 
 
 know it was only murmu rings. 
 
 the goblin smooth- 
 
 At last the church 
 the ornamental work, 
 Marmorel, the one-armed 
 came and said, stroking his 
 
 tools and were coming toward him with loud 
 
 ing her curls. 
 
 white beard : 
 
 " Master Paul, you have 
 sent for me to do the fine 
 stone-carving on the front 
 of your church, but how can 
 I ? It's many a long day 
 since I handled a chisel. 
 My good right arm is gone, 
 master." 
 
 Paul heard a low tinkling 
 voice at his ear, which said: 
 
 " Tell him there's nothing 
 like trying, Paul." 
 
 " Marmorel," said the 
 young man, " did you ever 
 hear the saying, ' There's 
 nothing like trying?' A 
 chisel for the master stone- 
 cutter!" he said to one of 
 the workmen. It was 
 brought and handed to old 
 Marmorel, who laughed as 
 he placed the edge of it 
 against the marble. He 
 had no sooner done so than a smart blow 
 was struck on the wooden handle, and the 
 splinters dashed from the stone on all 
 sides. 
 
 " Come, old Marmorel ! " Paul said, laugh- 
 ing. "You strike well with the arm you 
 have lost! To work, Marmorel!" 
 
 Paul then walked away from the aston- 
 ished old stone-cutter, but all at once he 
 
 "What is the meaning of this?" mut- 
 was ready for tered Paul to himself, and feeling as if 
 ^ and old something was about to happen that would 
 ruin him. 
 
 " The meaning is," said a low voice in his 
 ear, " that the rascals are coming to com- 
 ing to complain of me !" 
 
 By this time the workmen were close to 
 to him, and Paul said to the foremost of 
 them : 
 
 ' Well, Hans, what is the matter ? 
 why do the men stop before the 
 
 % s hour?" 
 
 "They are frightened, mas- 
 ter," said Hans, in a terri- 
 
 fied voice ; " something is wrong here." 
 
 " Something wrong ! " 
 
 " The stones are jumping about like mad, 
 master," said Hans. " They are bewitched 
 and turn somersaults before our very- 
 eyes ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Hans," said Paul. 
 
 "Tell him he is a fool, Paul," said the 
 tinkling voice. 
 
10 
 
 PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 . "And the men going up the ladders with 
 the mortar/' Hans went on, " say something 
 pushes them and voices scream in their 
 ears, ' Faster, faster ! ' 
 
 "It was I!" whispered the small voice, 
 nearly smothered with laughter. 
 
 "It's true, master," said Hans, "and the 
 burgomasters have heard the report and 
 come to see about it. They sent me to 
 summon you to their presence." 
 
 Paul's heart sank at these words, and he 
 said : 
 
 " Where are they, Hans?" 
 
 "On top of the church, master, where the 
 great scaffolding is." 
 
 "Fear nothing, Paul," the voice said; "go 
 and face them. I will be there." 
 
 So Paul, in fear and trembling, went up 
 the ladder and stood in presence of the fat 
 old burgomasters. As soon as he appeared 
 before them the biggest and roundest pulled 
 down his waistcoat, cleared his throat, 
 stepped grandly forward, and thus ad- 
 dressed him : 
 
 "Sir, we have come to investigate the 
 strange reports in regard to the manner in 
 which that is, the method adopted in the 
 construction and erection of this large and 
 intelligent building, which hem I see be- 
 fore me ! " 
 
 Here the speaker puffed about his cheeks 
 and awaited Paul's reply. 
 
 " Shall I throw that puffy old fellow down 
 the ladder?" said a voice at his ear. 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! Your Highness! you would 
 ruin me!" exclaimed the young man. 
 
 "I am glad to see you are aware, sir," 
 said the fat burgomaster, "of the respect 
 due to me, as you address me as 'Your 
 Highness' very proper, sir; very proper!" 
 
 Paul bowed and said : 
 
 " I hope, I feel sure, the gentlemen burgo- 
 masters will not believe all they hear. 
 These gossiping reports are " 
 
 "'Gossiping reports,' sir? Look at that 
 trowel, sir ! " 
 
PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 11 
 
 Paul turned round quickly and saw the 
 silver trowel of the head mason quietly 
 mortaring the stones without help from the 
 workman. 
 
 "Your Highness!" murmured Paul to 
 the invisible King of the Goblins, " if you 
 desert me now, I am lost ! " 
 
 " Never fear, Paul," said the voice. 
 
 " Do you see, sir ? " cried the fat burgo- 
 
 rapidly that you could hardly see it, and 
 inch by inch it drew near the spot where 
 the burgomasters were standing. 
 
 " Oh, Your Highness, I'm ruined!" Paul 
 groaned. 
 
 "Hush your nonsense, Paul!" said the 
 laughing voice. 
 
 " But look, Your Highness ! " 
 
 The fat burgomaster was rushing in terror 
 
 master, starting back as he spoke ; " do you 
 behold the extraordinary and highly im- 
 proper and unbecoming conduct of that 
 trowel, sir ? " 
 
 Suddenly the fat burgomaster jumped 
 backward and nearly fell from the scaffold- 
 ing. The silver trowel had leaped down, 
 and, standing on its point, made him a low 
 and respectful bow. It then rose erect 
 again and bowed in turn to all present, after 
 which it began to spin round on its point 
 in a waltz. Never did anybody see a mer- 
 rier or quicker waltz. The trowel spun so 
 
 toward the ladder, down which he hastened, 
 followed by the rest. 
 
 " That's the end of me ! " Paul exclaimed. 
 
 " You are a goose ! " said the voice. 
 
 O 
 
 " Make the men a speech and tell them to 
 go back to work." 
 
 Paul obeyed, and made the workmen a 
 short speech ; and they were so fond of him 
 that they once more went to work. 
 
 " If the old fellows come to trouble you 
 again, Paul, I'll fix 'em!" said the tinkling 
 voice. "Courage, Paul; you shall marry 
 Phenie yet." 
 
12 
 
 PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 III. 
 
 PAUL took heart at this and pushed the work on 
 ardently that soon the whole was done excepting 
 great spire. It was the most beautiful building 
 rested upon. Old Marmorel and the goblins 
 marble into delicate vines and flowers, like 
 Phenie were standing on the roof in the 
 
 o 
 
 delight on the towering spire. 
 
 Suddenly steps were heard, and Paul 
 burgomasters approaching. In front 
 the speaking, and he said to Paul : 
 
 "Ahem, sir ahem, sir! Un- 
 speaking ahem, sir! I must 
 tention to the fact that those 
 those doors! They are 
 stone work is intense- 
 bad, sir! Then, con- 
 sir, in the construe- 
 
 1 1 i 
 commgandhigh- 
 
 trowel, sir " 
 
 the church so 
 the top of the 
 that men's eyes ever 
 had cut the hard 
 fine lace, and Paul and 
 red sunset, looking with 
 
 looked round and saw the 
 was the fat old fellow who did 
 
 accustomed as I am, sir, to public 
 y bfg leave to say, sir to call your at- 
 \\indowsare botched, sir! And look at 
 too low no, they are too high, sir ! The 
 / ly I may say excessively and intolerably 
 sick-ring the means, sir, you have employed, 
 tion and erection of this building, sir the unbe- 
 
 ly improper and extraordinary behaviour of that 
 
 "I mean to do for that old hunks, Paul !" a tinkling voice said. 
 
 At the same moment a wheelbarrow, which had been standing near, lifted its feet and 
 ran straight at the fat old burgomaster. It struck his legs, he dropped into it, with his legs 
 Hying into the air, and then the wheelbarrow ran down the ladder with the burgomaster. 
 The rest followed, and soon were running after it, puffing and red in the face, through the 
 streets of the town toward the mountains. As it ran, the magical wheelbarrow drew 
 rybody, and they ran after it the lawyers looking wise as they strutted to the court, 
 
PAUL AND THE GOBLIN. 
 
 13 
 
 the doctors looking- wiser and flourishing- 
 
 o o 
 
 their gold-headed canes, the merchants, fat 
 and rich by selling out at cost, the ladies 
 rustling their finery, the beggars limping on 
 sound .legs all followed the magical wheel- 
 barrow. Behind came people in carriages 
 and on horseback. Dogs and cats, and 
 even the rats, were galloping on like the 
 rest ; and a company of soldiers, with a 
 band of music, broke ranks and followed, 
 with the drums rumbling and the trumpets 
 blowing; and a lonely tortoise slowly 
 brought up the rear. Never was such 
 a sight seen by human eyes before ! 
 
 The wheelbarrow ran on and 
 the crowd ran after it until night, 
 when it stopped before the 
 Elm-tree quarry in the 
 mountain. It stopped so 
 
 mountain. Even the fat old burgomaster 
 laughed heartily at the idea that he could 
 really have been carried off in that way in 
 a wheelbarrow ; and, being in a very good 
 humor, he went to look at the church. 
 
 The vast building was finished ! and Paul 
 and Phenie were again standing together 
 upon the great roof. Seeing them there 
 the old burgomaster went up to them and 
 shook hands with Paul. 
 
 
 suddenly that the fat old burgomaster was 
 sent flying out, with his legs kicking ; and 
 then the wheelbarrow rose straight up and 
 made a bow to everybody, after which it 
 ran into the mountain and disappeared. 
 
 The people stared, rubbed their eyes, and 
 went home without a word. On the next 
 morning, when they met their neighbors, 
 they laughed and jested about the odd 
 dream they had had all about a magical 
 wheelbarrow, and running after it to the 
 
 " Why, bless my soul ! what a grand 
 spire that is, my young friend ! " he ex- 
 claimed ; "and the windows and doors and 
 stone work, they are perfection ! Sir, 
 your work is a magnificent and lasting and 
 enduring an unparalleled and extraor- 
 dinary triumph of the loftiest genius, sir! 
 In the name of the respectable and enlight- 
 ened city fathers, I beg, sir, to present you 
 the freedom of your native city! " 
 
 Having conferred this high honor upon 
 
14 
 
 PAUL AND THE GOP.I.IN. 
 
 the young architect, the burgomaster made 
 Paul a low bow and went down the lad- 
 der. 
 
 As he did so, a voice said : 
 
 " Kiss your bride, Paul ! " 
 
 Paul caught young Phenie to his heart 
 and kissed her, when the tinkling voice 
 said : 
 
 " You shall marry her in this very church, 
 my good Paul. You are now rich and 
 famous, and you see that the King of the 
 Goblins has not broken his word to you." 
 
 " Oh, thanks ! thanks ! how can I ever 
 show my gratitude, Your Highness?" ex- 
 claimed Paul. 
 
 " By living honestly and uprightly and 
 doing your duty, Paul. Shake haqds ! " 
 
 Suddenly Phenie screamed and started 
 back. There before them, on the roof of 
 the church, was the King of the Goblins, 
 with his queer peaked hat, his purple robe, 
 and his high-heeled shoes. He reached up 
 
 his small hand, and Paul and Phenie shook 
 it, though the young girl was trembling with 
 fright. 
 
 " Make Paul a good wife, Phenie," said 
 the goblin, winking his eyes rapidly; "and 
 if you ever get in trouble, Paul, remember 
 I'm your friend." 
 
 He then placed his red heels together, 
 made a low and polite bow, and, with his 
 hands on his hips, walked quietly off to the 
 eaves of the church and vanished. 
 
 Paul took the blushing young Phenie on 
 his arm, and then they went home. They 
 were soon afterward married in the great 
 Lombarclic church, and all the great people 
 of the city came to the wedding. The 
 young couple lived a very happy life, and 
 Paul was successful in all his undertakings, 
 becoming very rich and prosperous. He 
 never got into trouble, however, as he was 
 honest and upright; and for that reason he 
 never saw the King of the Goblins again. 
 
 HOW A THISTLE SAVED A NATION. 
 
 LITTLE Minnre, in her eagerness after 
 flowers, had wounded her hand on the 
 sharp, prickly thistle. This made her cry 
 with pain at first and pout with vexation 
 afterwards. 
 
 " I do wish there was no such thing as a 
 thistle in the world/' she said, pettishly. 
 
 "And yet the Scottish nation think so 
 much of it, they engrave it on the national 
 arms," said her mother. 
 
 " It is the last flower I should pick out," 
 said Minnie. "Iain sure they might have 
 found a great many nicer ones, even among 
 the weeds." 
 
 " But the thistle did them such good ser- 
 vice once," said her mother, " they learned 
 
 to esteem it very highly. One time the 
 Danes invaded Scotland, and they prepared 
 to make a night attack on a sleeping garri- 
 son. So they crept along barefooted as 
 still as possible, until they were almost on 
 the spot. Just at that moment a barefooted 
 soldier stepped on a great thistle, and the 
 hurt made him utter a sharp, shrill cry of 
 pain. The sound awoke the sleepers, and 
 each man sprang to his arms. They fought 
 with great brav< ry, and the invaders were 
 driven back with much loss." 
 
 " Well, I never suspected that so small a 
 thing could save a nation," said Minnie, 
 thoughtfully, after her mamma had told her 
 about what the thistle had done. 
 
OW BIRDS KEEP COOL. 
 
 Happy birds that dwell 
 In the forest deep ! 
 
 Rise they in the dawn, 
 All the world asleep ; 
 
 Softly they bestir ; 
 
 In the silence sing ; 
 Then with sudden whirr 
 
 Of light lifted wing 
 
 Down they take their way 
 
 To the cool, sweet bath- 
 No other summerer 
 
 Such refreshment hath ; 
 Breakfast they among 
 
 Dewy ferns and flowers ; 
 Then on leafy boughs 
 
 Sleep away the hours. 
 
 
 15 
 
 HOW BIRDS KEEP COOL. 
 
Ib 
 
 llli; KING AND THE CLOWN. 
 
 THE KING AND THE CLOWN. 
 
 BY PAI.MKR COX. 
 
 T 
 
 'HERE lived a queer old king, His royal back he 'd stoop 
 
 Who used to skip and swing, To chase a rolling hoop, 
 
 And " dance before the fiddle," and all that sort Or romp in merry leap-frog with the wildest of 
 of thing. the group. 
 
 In princely robes arrayed, At last a cunning clown 
 
 The games of youth he played, Got hold of mace and crown, 
 
 And mingled with the low buffoons at fair or And instantly the people hailed him monarch of 
 masquerade. the town. 
 
THE KING AND THE CLOWN. 
 
 17 
 
 Because the crown he wore, Well might the sovereign yell, 
 
 And royal sceptre bore, And threaten prison cell, 
 
 All took him for the romping king they'd honored And rope, and ax, and gibbet ; but he could not 
 heretofore. break the spell. 
 
 His Majesty would rave, So passed his power away, 
 
 And bellow " Fool ! " and " Slave ! " His subjects and his sway, 
 
 But still the people bowed and scraped around the For king was clown, and clown was king, until 
 painted knave. their dying day. 
 
is 
 
 A TORPEDO BOAT. 
 
 A TORPEDO BOAT. 
 
 THIS is a picture of what is called "a 
 torpedo boat." Its name is the 
 44 Nautilus," and it is built of steel. It is so 
 built as to float at the surface of the water, 
 or to sink out of sight beneath it, as those 
 within may desire. 
 
 You see the circles on the side ; they 
 might be compared to the bottoms of tin 
 cans. They are actually the ends of steel 
 cans or cylinders, which slide water-tight 
 in round holes cut out of the vessel's sides. 
 When they are pushed out, the vessel 
 floats, because it takes up more space in 
 the water than before, and yet does not 
 weigh any more. When they are drawn 
 in, the vessel sinks ; and if they are drawn 
 in as far as possible, it will sink to a very 
 great depth, and the people within can move 
 around in any direction, down under the 
 water. 
 
 The vessel is moved by two screw-pro- 
 pellers, one on each side, which can drive 
 the boat at the rate of ten miles an hour, 
 and these are run, not by steam, but by 
 electricity. Of course it is lighted by elec- 
 tric lights, and it is so tightly built that no 
 
 water can possibly get in, on top, or any- 
 where. Air is forced into tanks in the 
 vessel, and let out, a little at a time, as it 
 is needed for breathing ; in this way air 
 enough can be packed into this boat to last 
 six men for three days. 
 
 But why should they care to travel down 
 there under water and in the dark ? 
 
 Well, for one thing it is quiet down there ; 
 the waves are all on the top, and below 
 there is no pitching about. But that is not 
 what the makers of this boat were thinking 
 of. It is made to use in war ; to glide, un- 
 seen, near the bottom of a large ship, and 
 fire off against it a can ot powder called a 
 torpedo, but quite different from those toy 
 torpedos you snap on the Fourth of July. 
 
 This torpedo boat has not been tried yet, 
 because there is no war. War is not as 
 common as it used to be. It costs too 
 much. It is well that it is so. Soldiers 
 look fine on parade in time of peace ; but 
 war is not a fine thing, because, while it may 
 do good to a few, it does harm to a great 
 many. 
 
WILLIE'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 19 
 
 WILLIE'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 Willie dear," said his mamma, 
 " I'm going out I'll not go far; 
 And when I'm gone, mind what I say, 
 Stay inside the gate and play." 
 
 But Willie dear had lost all wish 
 To mix mud pies in his tin dish. 
 He watched his mother out of sight, 
 Then pushed the gate with all his might 
 
 In vain ; 'twas only wasting time ; 
 So over it he tried to climb. 
 It wouldn't do ; he was so fat, 
 He soon gave up all hopes of that. 
 
 So he and Jim they scratched away, 
 Till piles of dirt around them lay. 
 Under the fence they dug a hole, 
 And through it naughty Willie stole. 
 
 Just then came trotting up to him 
 His little dog, black, curly Jim, 
 And Willie quickly made this plan 
 " I'll have Jim help me, for he can." 
 
 Jim quickly followed, full of play, 
 And down the street they took their way. 
 Twas full two hours ere they were found, 
 Willie was seated on the ground, 
 Watching the merry children play 
 In Allyn Park, a mile away. 
 
21) 
 
 BEHIND THE BARN. 
 
 BEHIND THE BARN. 
 
 BY G. M. S. HORTON. 
 
 I 
 
 WAS down at the red school-house 
 yesterday afternoon, and such a clat- 
 ter as the children kept up I never heard in 
 all my life ! " said Chicken Plump to the 
 gobbler, just after breakfast one day. 
 
 "What was the row about?" asked the 
 gobbler, keeping an eye on Mother Blackey, 
 who was digging industriously in the gar- 
 den. The fact was, she had bet a worm 
 with the gobbler the day before, and the 
 gobbler won, and was a little anxious about 
 his share. 
 
 "I don't know just exactly, but here's 
 something that blew out of the window 
 when I was standing there, and when a 
 little girl came out to look for it, I tucked 
 it under one wing and ran off as fast as I 
 could." 
 
 " That was very wrong," said the gob- 
 bler, who had been carried to Sunday- 
 school one day when he was too small to 
 even gobble. The little girl who lived at 
 the farm-house had taken him in her pocket, 
 you see. " Where's the paper ? " 
 
 " I hid it under the four-quart measure. 
 You stay here, and I'll run and get it." 
 
 In a few minutes Chicken Plump returned 
 from the barn with the paper under her 
 wing. 
 
 " Let's come out behind the pig-pen, and 
 be all alone," she said. So they went on 
 tip-toe down behind the barn. 
 
 " Do you think I've made a strike ? " 
 asked Chicken Plump, eagerly, as she 
 showed the paper. 
 
 The gobbler scratched his head with the 
 air of a man who isn't quite sure what to 
 say. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said a voice behind them, 
 
 "tisn't worth a cent! You may rely on 
 that." 
 
 They turned around, and there was the 
 pig looking straight out at them through a 
 crack in the sty. 
 
 "That's only spelling. The last time I 
 ran away I hid in the ash barrel down at 
 the school-house, and when they weren't 
 looking I peeped in at the window, and 
 they had spelling-books with leaves in 'em, 
 exactly like this." 
 
 " I'd like first-rate to learn reading and 
 spelling," said Chicken Plump. "The farm- 
 er leaves his paper 'most every week at the 
 barn, and all we can make out are pictures 
 of houses, and things we can. see for our- 
 selves any day." 
 
 " I'm just your man," said the pig. " You 
 know the boy that brings my dinner from 
 the farm-house ? Well, he 'most always has 
 a book with yellow covers when he comes 
 clown, and he gets so excited about Indians 
 and buffaloes that he reads right out loud, 
 and I've picked up a whole lot of learning, 
 I can tell you ; and if you'll put right in and 
 study, I'll teach you, too. When will you 
 begin ? " 
 
 " Now right away," said the gobbler, 
 swallowing a gobble of emotion at the 
 pig's kindness. "When a man's breast is 
 full" 
 
 " That reminds me," interrupted the pig, 
 "you'll have to wait till after dinner, for if I 
 should get faint, I'd have to stop, if it's in 
 the middle of the alphabet." 
 
 At half-past two there was a great assem- 
 blage down by the pig-pen the whole barn- 
 yard, in fact, with the exception of the yellow 
 hen, who tumbled off the roost the night 
 
BEHIND THE BARN. 
 
 21 
 
 before, and who said she "didn't care 
 whether school kept or not." But she 
 promised to walk up and down the yard 
 all the time the rest were away so as to 
 make the farmer think she was a crowd. 
 
 They studied like beavers all the after- 
 noon, and the pig decided that there would 
 be a grand examination and review the next 
 day at half-past ten. 
 
 Very few of the fowls slept that night, 
 
 up in front of the barn. The pig took the 
 leaf from Chicken Plump, and told them to 
 fall into line. The gobbler came first, the 
 Shanghai next, and so on down to the yel- 
 low chicks. 
 
 " Now, when any one misses a question, 
 down he goes," said the pig, clearing his 
 throat. 
 
 "Do you mean you'll knock us over?" 
 asked the littlest chicken, away at the end 
 
 and seven chickens fell off the roost at one 
 time, trying to spell "moon" for themselves. 
 Chicken Plump, Mother Blackey, and the 
 gobbler, after studying as long as any light 
 came in at the west window, fell into a 
 troubled slumber, and had the nightmare 
 almost all night. 
 
 At the appointed hour they were all at 
 the pfg-pen that is, all but the yellow hen 
 who was to make a procession of herself 
 
 of the line, with her knees almost shaking 
 each other out of joint. 
 
 " Don't be so preliminary," said the pig. 
 " I mean that you go down below the next 
 one." Then the little chicken shut her eyes 
 and stood on one leg during the entire 
 lesson, wondering where she was going if 
 she missed. 
 
 " Spell eye," said the pig, suddenly. 
 
 " Who ? " asked the gobbler. 
 
22 
 
 BEHIND THE BARN. 
 
 " You," said the pig. 
 
 " What's the word ? " asked the gobbler, 
 in a very weak voice. 
 
 " Eye ; you've got two of them in your 
 own head," said the pig. " Come, go on." 
 
 " Which one of them do you want me to 
 spell ? " said the gobbler still more faintly, 
 shutting first one eye and then the other to 
 see if they wouldn't spell themselves in 
 some way. 
 
 " Next! " shouted the pig, and the Shang- 
 hai got it the first time trying. 
 
 " Look here," said the gobbler, " I didn't 
 know as you would let a fellow have the 
 same letter twice in a word, or I could have 
 spelled it right away." 
 
 " Go down," said the pig sternly. So the 
 gobbler went down and the pig went on. 
 
 They got along first-rate till they came to 
 the gobbler again, and the pig gave out the 
 word " Hay." 
 
 The gobbler hesitated a moment, and 
 then a smile spread nearly back to his tail, 
 as he said affably: 
 
 "'Twasn't my turn this time. Give the 
 little ones a chance." 
 
 But the pig wouldn't listen, and told him 
 to go on. 
 
 " What's the first letter ? " whispered the 
 gobbler to Chicken Plump. 
 
 " H," said the chicken softly. 
 
 " H," began the gobbler with all his 
 might. 
 
 "Right," said the pig. 
 
 " Oh, I know," continued the gobbler. 
 " H, carry one, and a-y, hooray ! " 
 
 " Stop that dancing ! " shouted the pig. 
 " What do you mean by ' carry one ? ' ' 
 
 "Why, don't you know?" asked the 
 gobbler. " Well, I'm sorry for you, that's 
 all" 
 
 flu- j)i^ turned the paper upside down. 
 
 and all around, but he couldn't find out. 
 The fact is, the gobbler had heard the 
 farmer talking to himself as he was figuring 
 up the price of eggs in the barn. 
 
 "You may be right," said the pig, "but 
 it doesn't sound so, any way." 
 
 " Of course I'm right," said the gobbler, 
 and he insisted upon going up to the head 
 at once. 
 
 " No, you don't," said the Shanghai. 
 
 " Who says so ? " replied the gobbler. 
 
 "I do, the worst kind," answered the 
 Shanghai. 
 
 " Who'll be my friend in this affair ? " 
 cried the gobbler, stepping out of the rank 
 and shaking his claw under the Shanghai's 
 very nose. 
 
 " Take a demerit," said the pig sternly. 
 
 " Bring on your demerit bring on any- 
 thing ! " shouted the gobbler, whose blood 
 was up. 
 
 " Now, I say don't," said the pig, sooth- 
 ingly, " don't go and break up the instruc- 
 tion in this way. Be a man and a scholar ! " 
 
 " Not much!" answered the gobbler, pre- 
 paring himself for instant action. 
 
 " Come on then ! " cried the Shanghai. 
 So you see there was no backing out, and 
 the preparations went sadly on. 
 
 " If I fall, you will find four fresh worms 
 already dug in the round box by the har- 
 ness room," whispered the gobbler to 
 Chicken Plump, just before the battle 
 began. 
 
 They tried to have some style about the 
 fight, but it didn't work. The little chickens 
 acted as the ring, taking hold of hands, and 
 stretching around as far as they could. But 
 after the first minute it was pretty hard tell- 
 ing which was the ring and which the fight- 
 ers, for the chickens got so mixed up with 
 the Shanghai and gobbler that they could 
 
BEHIND THE BARN. THE MONKEY AND THE SPECTACLES. 
 
 23 
 
 not keep on their feet at all, and one of the special request swallowing the spelling- 
 chickens (who expected to be a rooster if book ; and the little links of the ring sat 
 he lived long enough), was stepped on up half the night writing out their resigna- 
 seventeen times ; and just as the fight grew tion, and here it is : 
 
 "_'-' ^"~ ' '' ~ 
 
 interesting the yellow hen came rushing "PLEASE DON'T ASK US TO 
 
 down to say that the farmer was coming. RING ANY MORE. 
 
 So everything broke up at once, the pig by ALL THE CHICKENS." 
 
 BE 
 
 THE MONKEY AND THE SPECTACLES. 
 
 FROM THE RUSSIAN OF KRILOF, BY W. S. RALSTON. 
 
 importance ; only one must provide one- 
 self with glasses. So it gets half-a-dozen 
 pairs of spectacles, turns them now this 
 way and now that, puts them on the top 
 of its head, applies them to its tail, smells 
 them, licks them ; still the spectacles have 
 no effect at all on its sight. 
 
 " Good lack ! " it cries ; " what fools they 
 be who listen to all the nonsense men utter ! 
 They've told me nothing but lies about the 
 spectacles. There isn't an atom of good in 
 them." 
 
 Here the monkey, in its vexation and an- 
 
 A MONKEY became weak-sighted in noyance, flung them down on a stone so 
 old age. Now it had heard men say violently that they were utterly broken to 
 that this misfortune was one of no great bits. 
 
24 
 
 MOTHER TABBYSKINS. 
 
 MOTHER TABBYSKINS. 
 
 SITTING at a window 
 In her cloak and hat, 
 I saw Mother Tabby skins, 
 The real old cat. 
 
 CHOKUS Very old, very old, 
 
 Crumplety and lame ; 
 Teaching kittens how to scold- 
 Is it not a shame ? 
 
 Kittens in the garden 
 
 Looking in her face, 
 Learning how to spit and swear 
 
 Oh, what a disgrace ! 
 
 Very wrong, very wrong, 
 Very wrong and bad ; 
 
 Such a subject for our song 
 Makes us all too sad. 
 
 Old Mother Tabbyskins, 
 Sticking out her head, 
 
 Gave a howl, and then a yowl, 
 Hobbled off to bed. 
 
 Very sick, very sick, 
 
 Very savage, too ; 
 Pray send for a doctor qtick 
 
 Any one will do ! 
 
 Doctor Mouse came creeping, 
 
 Creeping to her bed ; 
 Lanced her gums and felt her pulse, 
 
 Whisper'd she was dead. 
 
 Very sly, very sly, 
 The real old cat 
 Open kept her weather eye 
 , Mouse ! beware of that ! 
 
 Old Mother Tabbyskins, 
 Saying, " Serves him right," 
 
 Gobbled up the doctor with 
 Infinite delight. 
 
 Very fast, very fast, 
 
 Very pleasant, too 
 " What a pity it can't last! 
 Bring another, do." 
 
 Doctor comes running, 
 
 Just to see her begs ; 
 Round his neck a comforter, 
 
 Trousers on his leg 
 
 Very grand, very grand, 
 Golden-headed cane 
 
 Swinging gayly from his hand, 
 Mischief in his brain ! 
 
 " Dear Mother Tabbyskins, 
 And how are you now ? 
 Let me feel your pulse so, so ; 
 Show your tongue bow-wow. 
 
 " Very ill, very ill ; 
 
 Please attempt to purr: 
 
25 
 
 Will you take a draught or pill ? 
 Which do you prefer ? " 
 
 Ah, Mother Tabbyskins, 
 
 Who is now afraid ? 
 Of poor little Doctor Mouse 
 
 You a mouthful made. 
 
 Very nice, very nice 
 
 Little doctor he ; 
 But for Doctor Dog's advice 
 
 You must pay the fee. 
 
 Doctor Dog comes nearer, 
 
 Says she must be bled ; 
 I heard Mother Tabbyskins 
 
 Screaming in her bed. 
 
 Very near, very near, 
 Scuffling out and in ; 
 
 Doctor Dog looks full and queer- 
 Where is Tabbyskin ? 
 
 I will tell the moral 
 
 Without any fuss : 
 Those who lead the young astray 
 
 Always suffer thus. 
 
 CHORUS Very nice, very nice, 
 
 Let our conduct be ; 
 For all doctors are not mice ; 
 Some are dogs, you see. 
 
 TWO LITTLE KITTENS. 
 
 TWO little kittens, one stormy night, 
 Began to quarrel and then to fight ; 
 One had a mouse, the other had none, 
 And that was the way the quarrel begun. 
 
 "/'// have that mouse," said the biggest cat. 
 "You'll have that mouse ; we'll see about that." 
 " I will have that mouse," said the eldest son. 
 "You sha'n't have that mouse," said the little one. 
 
 I told you before 'twas a stormy night 
 When these two little kittens began to fight ; 
 
 The old woman seized her sweeping-broom 
 
 And swept the two kittens right out of the room. 
 
 The ground was covered with frost and snow, 
 And the two little kittens had nowhere to go, 
 So they laid them down on the mat at the door, 
 While the old woman finished sweeping the floor. 
 
 Then they both crept in, as quiet as mice, 
 All wet with snow and cold as ice ; 
 For they found it was better, that stormy night, 
 To lie down and sleep, than to quarrel and fight. 
 
26 
 
 CURIOUS HAND-SHADOWS THE LAUGH OF A CHILD. 
 
 CURIOUS HAND-SHADOWS. 
 
 ox. 
 
 THE LAUGH OF A CHILD. 
 
 I LOVE it, I love it, the laugh of a child, Floating off on the breeze, like the tones of a 
 Now rippling and gentle, now merry and bell, 
 
 wild ; Or the music that dwells in the heart of a shell ; 
 
 Ringing out on the air with its innocent gush, Oh ! the laugh of a child, so wild and so free, 
 
 Like the trill of a bird at the twilight's soft hush ; Is the merriest sound in the world for me. 
 
SAILING THROUGH THE AIR. 
 
 27 
 
 SAILING THROUGH THE AIR. 
 
 FOR years back men have tried to sail the latest and most wonderful of them all. 
 
 through the air. Every school boy It was built in Paris, and was meant to travel 
 
 and girl has heard of Darius Green and his against the wind. It is run by an electric 
 
 flying machine, and has laughed at Darius's engine, which is much lighter than one for 
 
 misfortune when he fell flat in the barn- steam. This engine drives propelling 
 
 yard, his machine becoming a total wreck. wheels, which you see projecting from the 
 
 Whether Elijah's ascent with the chariot car under the balloon. It also controls 
 
 and horses of fire has prompted men to steering apparatus, which you see back of 
 
 seek for similar flights cannot be known, but 
 it is sure that people have tried and tried again 
 to navigate the air. For very many years 
 balloons have been made, and have carried 
 men high above the clouds, but they are of 
 no use for travelling, because they go with 
 the wind, whatever be its direction, and are 
 liable to land their passengers in the sea, 
 or on the mountains. 
 
 Flying machines, in many forms, have 
 been made, and here is a picture of one of 
 
 the car, and resembling the sail of a boat, 
 or the fin of a fish. 
 
 When this great flying machine was tried 
 it did rise above the clouds, and it did make 
 its way against a light breeze; but as it rose 
 higher it met a stronger wind which swept 
 the balloon along in spite of its best efforts. 
 The wind often moves at fifty, sixty, seventy, 
 or even a hundred miles an hour. A balloon 
 to stand still over one spot would have to 
 equal this speed of the wind, and to go 
 
28 SAII.IM; THROUGH THE AIR. THE PIKE FAMILY. 
 
 against it would require just so much more However, the inventor of the machine 
 
 speed, which seems impossible when we re- shown in the picture is not discouraged, but 
 
 member that with all their facilities for doing is working away, and some day the boys and 
 
 it, our fastest locomotives can scarcely run girls may sail through the air in balloons, as 
 
 a mile a minute, they now sail on the water in boats. 
 
 HOW TO GET ALONG WITH THE WEATHER. 
 
 WHEN the weather is wet When the weather is cold 
 
 We must not fret; We must not scold; 
 
 When the weather is dry When the weather is warm 
 
 We must not cry; We must not storm. 
 
 THE PIKE FAMILY. 
 
 THE Pike Family is a queer and a cruel or nine feet long, while Muskelunjehs' as 
 party. It is a queer family because long as a man are not uncommon, 
 its members live in the water, which is The little fellows of the Pike Family are 
 queer when compared with what boys and called Pickerel. They are usually about 
 girls do, for they die in the water. But twenty inches long. A great many fishes 
 then the Pike Family is not the family of are called pike who have no right to the 
 some old Mr. Pike, who may be a carpenter, name. All the family, big and little, have 
 or a blacksmith, or a painter, but it is a terrible teeth. They are sharp and saw- 
 family, or large class, of fishes, and because like, and these fishes are very strong in 
 they are fishes, and not men and women or their jaws, and quick in their movements, 
 boys and girls, they live and are happy in People generally like to eat the Pike 
 the water. Family, and the Family in turn like to eat 
 In families such as ours there are Johns, whoever they can. That they ever ate a 
 and Sammies, and Sallies, and lots of other man or a baby nobody knows ; but they eat 
 folks, every one of them with his or her hundreds of small fishes. Indeed they are 
 own name. In the Pike Family there are so quick and so ravenously hungry at times, 
 not names enough to go all around. Each that they have been known to leap clear of 
 fish has not his own name. Of the Pikes, the water and catch birds from twigs of 
 some are called Pickerel, and the great big trees which hung low along the water's 
 fellows of the family are called Muskelunjeh edge. 
 
 an awful name, isn't it? But then these Because they continually kill and eat 
 
 are an awful set of fishes. It is said that creatures smaller than themselves we call 
 
 one was caught which was nineteen feet them cruel, but when men catch them on 
 
 long. If we had seen and measured him hooks and lines, and kill and eat them, it 
 
 we could believe that more easily ; but it is wouldn't be queer if the Pike Family should 
 
 pretty sure that they sometimes are eight say that men, too, were cruel. 
 
AFTER HIS BREAKFAST. 
 
 29 
 
30 
 
 DOWN A WATER-SPOUT. 
 
 DOWN A WATKR-SPOUT. 
 
 1,V LAURIE LORING. 
 
 " T SAY it's a shame to lock us up like a 
 J. herd of wild animals ; and I, for one, 
 wont stand it another day!" 
 
 "Wont? You can't help yourself." 
 " I'll bet I can ! You just wait till Water- 
 man locks the door again and threatens to 
 flog- us all round, and see what I'll do !" 
 
 " You can't get out, Bert, for we are in 
 the second story." 
 
 " Have you forgotten our gymnastic exer- 
 cises?" 
 
 "Climbing those poles?" 
 
 _\^reL : .> / ** 
 
 " Yes, only I happen to refer to the slid- 
 ing- clown part." 
 
 " I don't see how that's going to help you 
 unlock the doors ! If you proposed to slide 
 from the moon on Jack's bean-pole, 'twould 
 be another thing." 
 
 " You are dull, Fred ! " 
 
 " I hill is it, then ; so tell a fellow what 
 you mean." 
 
 " Well, come on over to the oak." 
 
 What if this had been a "Talking oak," 
 
 O 
 
 like Mr. Tennyson's! Such fun, such con- 
 
 spiracies, such " indignation-meetings," such 
 " private talks " as had gone on under its 
 wide, green branches ; for the grove had 
 been the lounging-place for many genera- 
 tions of school-boys. 
 
 " The fact is," continued Bert, in a low 
 tone, " I s'pose mother'd feel awfully if she 
 knew what I thought of doing; and Alice 
 always runs right home and tells every- 
 thing; that's the only reason why I hesi- 
 tate." 
 
 " Well, you're going to do it all the same, 
 I suppose ; so pitch in ! for I 
 want to hear how you're to un- 
 lock those doors." 
 
 Bert whispered a few words 
 so low that, even if the old tree 
 had been the "Talking Oak," 
 it never could have reported 
 them to the school-master. 
 
 Fred looked at him blankly 
 for a minute. " Oh, I see now," 
 he said at last. " But what if 
 you break your neck ? / think 
 it's rather risky !" 
 
 "What if I don't? But if 
 you're afraid of yours, you can 
 sit in your seat and let old Waterman shake 
 your head off." 
 
 " Who said I was afraid ? If you can do 
 it, of course I can." 
 
 " Well," said Bert, " we can meet at the 
 school-house to-night and practice a little ; 
 only, how are we going to get the 
 keys?" 
 
 " Well, luckily, I've left my arithmetic in 
 the entry," answered Fred. " Waterman'll 
 gladly give me the keys, if he thinks I'm 
 going to study." 
 
DOWN A WATER-SPOUT. 
 
 31 
 
 " That's so ! Now, how many boys shall 
 we let into the secret ? " 
 
 " I'll bring Lee. He's mad as we are. 
 Then there's Alf Cushman and Carl Rutter ; 
 they'd like to do something in that line. 
 They just hate Waterman." 
 
 "Yes," this hesitatingly; then rather 
 slowly " but mother don't like those two 
 boys and well, I wouldn't do it, you know, 
 if we only had a decent teacher." 
 
 The last was argumentatively to himself. 
 
 " We'll do it or not, as you like," said Fred. 
 " Only if we do it at all, it's better to have 
 a regular stampede and scare him, you 
 know." 
 
 "Well, get the keys, then, and be there 
 about half past eight, but don't bring any 
 more boys than you spoke of. Whistle 
 when you go by and I'll come out." 
 
 " I know just what father'd say about this 
 scrape," Bert said to himself, as he walked 
 slowly home. " He'd say : ' You're a smart 
 chap, Bert. Give Waterman what he de- 
 serves. Men have to be taught their places 
 as well as boys, sometimes.' ' But he didn't 
 care to put into words what his mother 
 would say. 
 
 When he entered the sitting-room, little 
 Alice came to meet him. 
 
 "Oh, Bertie! Mother has bought the 
 nicest puzzle for us ! " 
 
 " Don't bother me with your old puzzles," 
 Bert answered, as he flung himself at full 
 length on the lounge. 
 
 " It isn't old ; it's brand-new," explained 
 little Alice, mistaking her brother's ill-tem- 
 per her brother always so dear and kind. 
 
 "Well, I don't care for forty thousand just 
 such puzzles !" 
 
 "Forty thousand is a large number, my 
 son. You might sell a few thousand if you 
 had so many. You like money, Bert, you 
 
 know, if you don't like puzzles." And a 
 soft, cool hand put back the dark, curly 
 hair, and smiling blue eyes looked down 
 into his own. 
 
 "Don't!" he said abruptly, as he caught 
 her hand in his own. 
 
 " Did I hurt you ? Does your head ache ? " 
 she asked, in surprise. 
 
 He sprang up. He never before in all 
 his life had been downright rude to his dear, 
 pretty mother. More than half ashamed 
 of the shame he felt, he muttered something 
 about its being "so awful hot" in the school- 
 room and feeling tired out. And Bert was 
 tired there is nothing that will so wear 
 upon a boy with a tolerably tender con- 
 science as to stand half committed to do a 
 questionable deed. "Let's see the puzzle," 
 he said, and then he got himself back on the 
 old sunny home-footing in the chat which 
 followed. And when, after supper, a shrill 
 whistle startled him, and he let the puzzle 
 fall, he wished he'd bitten his tongue off 
 before he imparted his rash, impulsive plan 
 to Fred. 
 
 " Do please put these back," cried Alice, 
 " if you aren't going to play any more. I'm 
 'fraid I can't do it right." 
 
 " Bother it, Alice ! you can, too !" 
 
 He caught his mother's eye, and the 
 crimson doors shut with a snap. 
 
 Again the whistle "That confounded 
 whistle," Bert called it, to himself. 
 
 " That sounds rather mysterious ! " said 
 Bert's mother, pleasantly. But Bert sud- 
 denly looked crosser than ever, and taking 
 his cap left the room. 
 
 On the steps he paused, then walked 
 slowly to the gate. 
 
 " I've got to go, since I proposed it," said 
 he. A good-for-any thing boy does so hate 
 to " back out," you know. 
 
DOWN A WATER-SPOUT. 
 
 " Halloo ! Didn't know but you'd gone 
 to bed, Bert. We boys have all been over 
 to the school-house this long while !" 
 
 Three of the boldest, strongest boys of 
 the whole school were there ; and the fun 
 that followed in the moon-lit school-room, 
 though the voices were subdued and the 
 movements stealthy, was of rather an excit- 
 ing character; and Bert, instead of feeling 
 troubled when he went home, met his 
 mother's soft, inquiring glance with bright 
 eyes and glowing cheeks. 
 
 For several days an unusual peaceable- 
 ness prevailed in the school-room. Bert, 
 naturally a conscientious boy, began to won- 
 der whether a part of the blame might not 
 rest upon their own shoulders, as his mother 
 had at times suggested ; but I suppose I 
 ought to confess that every one of the other 
 young rebels rather longed to see the mas- 
 ter show a bit of his old injustice. 
 
 Now, this master was a well-educated 
 man, and, had he not been troubled by a 
 malignant dyspepsia, would have made an 
 excellent teacher; as it was, he was irritable, 
 hasty and severe, and his physician ought 
 to have told him that he had no business in 
 a room where there were sixty boys and 
 girls to control. 
 
 At last, one extremely warm day, the 
 \vished-for tempest rose, sudden and black. 
 Bert had been puzzling over a difficult ex- 
 ample. He suddenly detected his mistake 
 and in triumph held up his slate to Fred. 
 
 Just as he was turning back, with a smile 
 upon his face, Mr. Waterman spoke : 
 
 " Franklin, what have you upon your 
 slate ? " 
 
 l> Kxamples." 
 
 "What else?" 
 
 " \othincr, sir." 
 
 o 
 
 44 Arc yon sure?" 
 
 Bert's eyes flashed. He remained silent. 
 
 " NOTHING ELSE ? " repeated the master. 
 
 " I told you once, sir, there was nothing 
 else." 
 
 A suppressed giggle from Carl Rutter 
 interrupted here. Like Job's war-horse, he 
 could snuff a battle afar off; and, like Job's 
 war-horse, he was now breathing his native 
 air. 
 
 41 Carl Rutter, did you see his slate? " 
 
 "Yes, sir. Alf did, too." 
 
 " How many saw it ? " 
 
 Three hands were raised instantly. They 
 belonged to Bert's three fellow-rebels. 
 
 " What is there upon the slate ? " asked 
 Mr. Waterman, in a tone which showed that 
 anger had completely blinded him. 
 
 " Examples ! " they all shouted; then 
 there was a concert of giggles. 
 
 " Silence ! " A decided stamp emphasized 
 the command. 
 
 " I prefer to see for myself. Bring the 
 slate here ! " was his second command. 
 
 Bert laid his slate down upon his desk 
 with a slam. He sat back in his scat and 
 looked all his contempt at the master. 
 
 " Mr. Waterman, please, Bertie never told 
 a lie in his life." 
 
 These words, uttered in a frightened, 
 tremulous tone, were from little Alice 
 Franklin. 
 
 Mr. Waterman turned angrily upon the 
 little, golden-haired creature: 
 
 "Come out on the floor, Alice Franklin!" 
 
 The child covered her face with her 
 hands ; but she obeyed. 
 
 Bert set his teeth then. 
 
 "Now bring your slate here, instantly, 
 or" said Mr. Waterman. He trembled 
 too much with anger to be able to finish his 
 sentence. 
 
DOWN A WATER-SPOUT. 
 
 33 
 
 But Bert did not touch his slate. Mr. 
 
 Waterman, pausing a moment, wiping his 
 forehead with his handkerchief, stepped to 
 the door. He locked it, and put the key in 
 his pocket. 
 
 " There are several of you boys who have 
 needed reconstructing for some time. We 
 will attend to it this fore- 
 noon." 
 
 As he turned to reach 
 his bamboo cane, Bert 
 gave a peculiar little click 
 with his tongue ; and then, so 
 quick that the astonished mas- 
 ter actually rubbed his eyes, 
 he, and the three boys after 
 him, strode to the open window, 
 past the platform, and lightly 
 and easily as a bird, sprang out, 
 the others following so quickly 
 that Mr. Waterman stood per- 
 fectly still with amazement, as 
 well he might, for the school- 
 room was in the second story. 
 There was one moment of profound 
 silence in the room, and then half a dozen 
 other boys, fathoming the secret, followed. 
 Waterman sprang after them. "Try that 
 if you dare ! " 
 
 One of them was half-way out, however, 
 when a sudden, sharp cry arrested them all, 
 and the master and boys reached and fran- 
 tically tried to pull him in. 
 
 But it could not be done. This is what 
 had happened. This is what they saw : 
 
 The water-spout had started from its 
 upper fastenings, and was now swaying to 
 right and left with two trembling boys cling- 
 ing to it. 
 
 Doubtless it had been loosened by the 
 night-practice, but the darkness had con- 
 cealed it. Then only one boy had de- 
 scended at a time, and that slowly ; now 
 
34 
 
 DOWN A WATER-SPOUT. 
 
 several had almost simultaneously grasped 
 this frail support, and flung their united 
 weight upon it. 
 
 Bert already lay in a heap upon the 
 ground, and, even while they were looking, 
 Carl and Alf let go and dropped, and their 
 comrade, with a dizzy cry, followed. 
 
 The three boys were but slightly stunned, 
 and got up as several men came running 
 into the yard, Mr. Franklin among them, as 
 it chanced. 
 
 "What's the trouble here ? School-house 
 got afire ? " 
 
 " It may as well we've come out to stay," 
 answered Carl, spitefully rubbing his bruised 
 knee. 
 
 Mr. Franklin looked into his boy's pale 
 face as he still lay motionless, unconscious, 
 then up at the crowd of frightened faces 
 above him. Then he went hastily up the 
 stairs and knocked imperatively at the 
 closed door. 
 
 When he came down he looked nearly as 
 indignant as when he went up. Mr. Water- 
 man and the whole school followed. The 
 children thronged the yard, the master 
 strode hastily away. 
 
 As no bones were broken, Bert, on com- 
 ing to consciousness, was easily gotten 
 home, where the family seemed to conspire 
 to leave him to himself for the rest of. the 
 day. He felt that he ought to have some 
 sympathy, but he did not get it. He was 
 glad when night came, and went to bed 
 
 early to lie and toss about. His bones, 
 his conscience, and his heart ached about 
 alike. 
 
 " I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night ! " he ex- 
 claimed, as he tossed from side to side. " I 
 should think mother'd come and see me 
 a minute. She must know I'm terribly 
 bruised up." 
 
 Then there was a long, long talk such 
 a frank talk as there should oftener be be- 
 tween mother and son. Bertie learned that 
 if he had been patient to the close of the 
 term, he would have been relieved of his 
 unpleasant teacher. It had already been 
 decided upon. " But now, Bertie," said his 
 mother, " think what you have done ! You 
 have ruined the reputation of the master, 
 the reputation of our school, and the repu- 
 tation of Bertie Franklin. What a day's 
 work ! Are you proud of it ? Please think, 
 too, how your father must feel as commit- 
 tee-man ! " 
 
 Bert was a big boy, but he buried his face 
 in his pillow, and sobbed for about a min- 
 ute. Then he lifted his head. 
 
 " Kiss me, mother," said he ; " that is, if 
 you can, and then get the arnica bottle." 
 
 The arnica helped the bruises ; but moth- 
 er-kisses cannot always prevent mischief, 
 neither cure its hurt ; and as Bert, in spite 
 of his hot, proud temper, was really a con- 
 scientious boy, it was a long time before he 
 forgave himself for his offence against law 
 and order by GOING DOWN A WATER- 
 SPOUT. 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 35 
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 DON McDEVITT was a miner's boy, 
 and he lived among the mountains 
 of Pennsylvania. Down under those moun- 
 tains his father worked, getting out coal ; 
 and all around among those mountains were 
 railroads. Winter had come, and Don, with 
 his dog, was seeking fun with his sled. One 
 hill near the village was specially good for 
 coasting, but near its foot two or three coal 
 rail-roads crossed it. The cars on these 
 roads ran down hill, and so did 
 not need an engine to pull them, 
 but they came shooting along, 
 without much noise, and so 
 coasting near them was very 
 dangerous. 
 
 Many an anxious mother and 
 father forbade their boys to 
 coast on that hill, but Don's 
 parents trusted the good sense 
 and prudence of their boy. Per- 
 haps they were too trustful, for 
 even the most cautious of boys 
 is liable to forget caution when 
 in pursuit of fun. That the place 
 was dangerous no one doubted. 
 Many a narrow escape had oc- 
 curred there before, though no fatal acci- 
 dent had been known. 
 
 Don knew all this, but he was a bold, 
 venturesome lad, and as the coasting there 
 was good, and there were no other coasters 
 on that hill, Don and his dog took posses- 
 sion of it, and made many runs down in 
 safety on the good sled which he called 
 " Spark." " One more run down the hill," 
 said Don to his dog, "and then home for 
 dinner." Again they mounted ; again, like 
 a flash, they went gliding down the hill, Don 
 steering with his foot as with a rudder be- 
 
 3 
 
 hind, and the dog peacefully bracing him- 
 self in front. 
 
 They were almost at the first railroad 
 crossing when Don heard the rumble of a 
 train, and in an instant he saw it almost 
 upon them. Quick as thought he threw 
 himself from the sled, and rolled over and 
 over into a snow bank beside the road. For 
 a moment he was stunned, but recovering 
 himself, and creeping out, the train was 
 
 gone, and neither dog nor sled were in 
 sight. He called the dog, but got no an- 
 swer. He ran along the track, but saw no 
 signs of them, but, away down the hill he 
 saw what seemed to him two dogs tussling 
 in the snow. Down the hill he ran, and 
 there was the dear doer unhurt, and the 
 
 o 
 
 good sled unharmed, and the dog was doing 
 his best to pull the sled up hill. 
 
 How they escaped the train none saw but 
 the dog, and he never told, but Don sticks 
 to it that they ran through between the 
 wheels as the train thundered by. 
 
BATTLING WITH SNOW-BALLS. 
 
 BATTLING WITH SNOW-BALLS. 
 
 are parts of the world where 
 JL snow never falls and where snow- 
 balling is unknown. But where snow does 
 fall, the snow-balls fly and fun abounds. 
 Here is a picture of a snow-balling frolic on 
 
 a farm. The girls don't come out to it, but 
 stand inside the door ready to dodge as the 
 boys hurl the white balls at them. But 
 there's fun for the girls in the dodging and 
 for the boys in their efforts to hit the 
 dodgers, and so all are happy. 
 
 Snow-balling is a favorite amusement 
 wherever there is a chance for it. Look at 
 the picture opposite. In what land do you 
 suppose these children live ? Do they dress 
 like the boys and girls of America ? Do 
 their faces look just like those of Yankee 
 
 boys and girls ? Look at the buildings in 
 the picture. Do our buildings look like 
 these ? Look at the sky. It seems to have 
 a dull look as if it was half daylight and 
 half dark. 
 
 This is a picture of snow-balling in 
 Sweden. These children are little Swedes, 
 and these houses are such as they 
 build in that land. They have plenty 
 of snow there, and the people are a 
 hardy, healthy race. They are so far to 
 the north that for several months at a 
 time they see the sun all night long, so 
 that theirs has been called " the land of 
 the midnight sun." At other times their 
 day is very short, they scarcely seeing the 
 sun at all. This is the idea of the dim 
 light in the picture. 
 
 These are bright little youngsters in the 
 snow-ball battle. Nobody seems to be 
 angry. The little Swedish lady don't seem 
 to throw balls, but she makes them for her 
 brother to throw ; while the little chap on 
 the other side has his helper also, though 
 by no means so fair and pretty a one. 
 Which side do you choose? Which do you 
 think will win ? 
 
 I WOULD IF I COULD. 
 
 " T would if I could" though much it's in use, 
 
 A Is but a mistaken and sluggish excuse; 
 And many a person who could if he would, 
 Is often heard saying, " I would if I could'' 
 
 " Come, John," said a school-boy, " now do not 
 refuse [choose." 
 
 Come, solve me this problem ; you can if you 
 But John at that moment was not in the mood, 
 And yawningly answered, " / would if I could'' 
 
 At the door of a mansion a child, thinly clad, 
 While the cold wind blew fiercely, was begging 
 for bread ; 
 
 A lich man passed by her, as trembling she stood, 
 And answered her coldly, " 1 would if I could'' 
 
 The scholar receiving his teacher's advice, 
 The swearer admonished to quit such a vice, 
 The child when requested to try and be good, 
 Oft give the same answer, "/ i^oit/d if I could." 
 
 But if we may credit what good people say, 
 That where there's a will tin-re is always a way ; 
 And whatever ought to be, can be, and should t 
 We never need utter, " / would if I could'' 
 
WHICH SIDE WILL WIN 
 
 37 
 
38 
 
 BUGABOO BILL, THE GIANT. 
 
 BUGABOO BILL, THE GIANT. 
 
 BY PALMER COX. 
 
 T 
 
 HERE was an old giant named Bugaboo Bill, He'd sit by his castle and gaze on the plain, 
 
 Resided in England, on top of a hill, While farmers were reaping and threshing their 
 
 A daring marauder, as strong as a moose, grain, 
 
 Who lived on the best that the land could And say, as he noticed the ripened crop fall, 
 
 produce. " 'Twill soon be the season to give them a call." 
 
 And when came the hour to levy his tax 
 When corn was in cribs, and the barley in sacks, 
 When the fruit was all gathered, and ready for 
 
 sale 
 Were poultry and cattle then down without 
 
 fail, 
 
 Would come, uninvited, old Bugaboo Bill, 
 And carry a load to his home on the hill. 
 
 The farmers had often declared they would 
 stand 
 
 And guard their possessions with weapon in 
 hand. 
 
 In bands they would muster, with mattocks and 
 hoes, 
 
 With sickles and pitchforks, his march to op- 
 pose. 
 
BUGABOO BILL, THE GIANT. 
 
 39 
 
 But when the great giant came down in his At length one remarked, who had studied his 
 
 might, race : 
 
 A club in his hand neither limber nor light, " No giant so strong but he has a weak place 
 
 They'd fling away weapons and scatter like He'll have some short-coming though ever so 
 
 deer, tall. 
 
 To hide behind walls, or in woods disappear, You've tried many plans, but have failed in them 
 
 And leave him to carry off barley and rye, all 
 
 Or pick out the fattest old pig in the sty. His club is too large and your courage too small. 
 
 Thus things went on yearly, whate'er they might " Now, try a new method invite him to dine : 
 
 do, Bring forth tempting dishes and flagons of wine, 
 
 From bad to far worse, as still bolder he grew; And let skilled musicians perform soothing airs 
 
 For none could be found who had courage or To smooth down his temper and banish his cares, 
 
 skill And when he grows drowsy, as surely he will, 
 
 Sufficient to cope with the rogue on the hill. We'll easily manage this Bugaboo Bill." 
 
BUGABOO BILL, THE GIANT. 
 
 The plan was adopted ; when next he came down 
 To take his supplies from the best in the town, 
 They brought him fat bacon, roast turkey and 
 
 quail, 
 
 With flagons of sherry and beakers of ale ; 
 Good beef in abundance, and fruit that was sweet; 
 In short, every dish that could tempt him to eat 
 
 Well pleased was the giant to see them so kind, 
 So frank and forbearing, to pardon inclined ; 
 He helped himself freely to all that was nice 
 To poultry, to pastry, and puddings of rice, 
 To wines that were potent to steal unaware 
 From limbs that were large all the strength that 
 
 was there, 
 
 While 'round him musicians were ranged in a ring, 
 Some turning a crank, and some scraping a string. 
 
 A poet read sonnets composed for the day, 
 A singer sang ballads, heroic and gay, 
 Until all the air was replete with a sound 
 That softened the feelings and enmity drowned 
 
 The task was not easy: for half a day long 
 They treated the giant to music and song ; 
 The piper played all the sweet airs that he knew, 
 The fiddler seemed sawing his fiddle in two ; 
 The organist worked as though turning a mill, 
 But still wide awake remained Bugaboo Bill. 
 
 At last he grew drowsy, confused was his mind 
 With feasting and drinking and music com- 
 bined ; 
 
 And when he had sunk in a stupid repose, 
 A monster balloon was brought out by his foes. 
 
BUGABOO BILL, THE GIANT. 
 
 41 
 
 Said one, as the ropes to the giant they tied : 
 
 " We gave him a feast, now we'll .give him a 
 
 ride; 
 For though by good rights the old robber should 
 
 die, 
 His life we'll not injure, but off let him fly. 
 
 " The wind's blowing south by sou'-east, as you 
 
 see, 
 
 So over the channel soon wafted he'll be ; 
 He'll make a quick passage, and, if I guess 
 
 right, 
 Will take his first lesson in French before night." 
 
 Then up he was hoisted by winds that were 
 
 strong, 
 By gas that was buoyant, and ropes that were 
 
 long; 
 
 And south by sou'-east, like a sea-bird he flew, 
 Across the broad channel, and passed from their 
 
 view. 
 
 But whether he landed in France or in Spain, 
 In Turkey or Russia, or dropped in the main, 
 They never discovered, and little they cared 
 In what place he lighted, or just how he fared. 
 But, though his old castle long stood on the 
 
 hill, 
 They had no more visits from Bugaboo Bill. 
 
 THE WRONG WAY AND THE RIGHT WAY. 
 
 Four little bits of boys 
 All went out to play ; 
 
 Two of them began to fight 
 And spoilt the fun that day. 
 
 Four little bits of girls 
 
 All went out to play; 
 Each of them was kind and good 
 
 And had a happy day. 
 
42 
 
 FUNNY CHANGES. HIRAM AND THE DOG. 
 
 FUNNY CHANGES. 
 
 ft [oaf- of brotun 
 This looks lik^.lo 
 
 $ fiancth cmd 
 aftolj 
 
 or air 
 
 fl li 
 
 nL or iio 77? orz_ 
 
 Jflak'LS 
 
 look 
 funny 
 
 iJict mips ftj To fin ish, 
 
 Our n. ut- rracfa'nf J$1UMU/- 
 o ^J 
 
 HIRAM AND THE DOG. 
 
 HIRAM was a quiet, peaceable sort of done in such an innocent manner, that his 
 
 a Yankee, who lived on the same victim could do no better than take it all in 
 
 farm on which his fathers had lived before good part. 
 
 him, and was generally considered a pretty Now, it happened that one of Hiram's 
 
 cute sort of a fellow always ready with a neighbors sold a farm to a tolerably green 
 
 trick, whenever it was of the least utility ; specimen of a Dutchman one of the real 
 
 yet, when he did play any of his tricks, 'twas unintelligent, stupid sort. 
 
HIRAM AND THE DOG. 
 
 43 
 
 Von Vlom Schlopsch had a dog, as Dutch- 
 men often have, who was less unintelligent 
 than his master, and who had, since leaving 
 his "faderland," become sufficiently civilized 
 not only to appropriate the soil as common 
 stock, but had progressed so far in the good 
 work as to obtain his dinners from the 
 neighbors' sheepfold on the same principle. 
 
 When Hiram discovered this propensity 
 in the canine department of the Dutchman's 
 family, he walked over to his new neighbor's 
 to enter complaint, which he accomplished 
 in the most natural method in the world. 
 
 " Wall, Von, your dog Blitzen's been kill- 
 ing my sheep." 
 
 "Ya! dat ish bace bad.. He ish von 
 goot tog ; ya ! dat ish bad ! " 
 
 " Sartin, it's bad ; and you'll have to stop 
 'im." 
 
 " Ya ! dat ish alias goot ; but ich weis 
 nicht." 
 
 "What's that you say? he was nicked? 
 Wall, now look here, old fellow! nickin's no 
 use. Crop 'im ; cut his tail off close, chock 
 up to his trunk ; that'll cure 'im." 
 
 "Vat ish dat?" exclaimed the Dutchman, 
 while a faint ray of intelligence crept over 
 his features. "Ya! dat ish goot. Dat cure 
 von sheep steal, eh ? " 
 
 " Sartin it will : he'll never touch sheep 
 meat again in this world," said Hiram 
 gravely. 
 
 " Den come mit me. He von mity goot 
 tog ; all the way from Yarmany : I not take 
 von five dollar but come mit me, and hold 
 his tail, eh ? Ich chop him off." 
 
 " Sartin," said Hiram: "I'll hold his tail 
 if you want me tew ; but you must cut it 
 up close." 
 
 " Ya ! dat ish right. Ich make 'im von 
 goot tog. There, Blitzen, Blitzen ! come 
 right here, you von sheep steal rashcull : I 
 chop your tail in von two pieces." 
 
 The dog obeyed the summons ; and the 
 master tied his feet fore and aft, for fear of 
 accident, and placing the tail in the Yankee's 
 hand, requested him to lay it across a large 
 block of wood. 
 
 " Chock up," said Hiram, as he drew the 
 butt of the tail close over the log. 
 
 " Ya ! dat ish right. Now, you von tief 
 sheep, I learns you better luck," said Von 
 Vlom Schlopsch, as he raised the axe. 
 
 It descended ; as it did so, Hiram, with 
 characteristic presence of mind, gave a sud- 
 den jerk, and brought Blitzen's neck over 
 the log ; and the head rolled over the other 
 
 o * 
 
 side. 
 
 " Wall, I swow ! " said Hiram with appar- 
 ent astonishment, as he dropped the head- 
 less trunk of the dog; "that was a leetle 
 too close." 
 
 " Mine cootness ! " exclaimed the Dutch- 
 man, "you shust cut 'im off de wrong 
 end!" ' 
 
44 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA. 
 
 BY ROSA GRAHAM. 
 
 O 
 
 NCE up- 
 on a time 
 there lived by 
 the great sea 
 two brothers, 
 named Klaus 
 
 and Korg; the elder inheriting the rich es- 
 tates of his ancestors ; the younger, a wood- 
 chopper, and so poor that it was ofttimes a 
 difficult task for him to provide bread for 
 his wife and little children. 
 
 Hard as life often seems, it may be even 
 harder ; and so bitterly realized Korg when, 
 nigh on to one merry Christmas-tide, an ac- 
 cident deprived him of his strong right 
 hand, thereby cutting off forever his slender 
 means of livlihood. There was but one re- 
 source, and, with crushed spirit, Korg be- 
 took himself to his elder brother to crave 
 some mercy for his starving babes. 
 
 Klaus was a harsh man, with love only 
 for his yellow gold. He frowned impatiently 
 when Korg interrupted his selfish dreams, 
 and, for answer to his pitiful story, threw 
 him a loaf of bread and a pudding, bidding 
 him begone and be satisfied. And Korg 
 went forth with a heavy heart, his faint hope 
 dead. 
 
 His homeward path followed the raging 
 sea. The night was dark and stormy, the 
 waves bellowed and lashed at the shore 
 like an army of infuriated beasts ; but Korg 
 heeded it not, only clutched his bread and 
 pudding, and walked on with a white, 
 despairing face. Suddenly, as he emerged 
 from a thick bit of woods, he became con- 
 scious of a strange light encircling him, and 
 halting, quite terrified at the phenomenon, 
 he beheld a little old man, snow-haired and 
 bearded, standing plump in the path before 
 him. 
 
 "You seem in trouble, friend," he ejacu- 
 lated, with a chuckle. " Something twists 
 in your world, I trow." 
 
 Korg was not slow to recognize a geist ; 
 his knees shook, and he dared not utter a 
 word. The elf looked down upon him half 
 displeased, yet chuckling merrily withal. 
 
 " You have nothing to fear from me," he 
 continued, sweetly. " I am the guardian of 
 the honest poor. This night I come to re- 
 veal to you a secret, which, rightly used, 
 will bestow upon you riches, life-lasting and 
 unlimited." 
 
 Korg, bewildered, could not yet yield 
 simple faith. He clutched desperately his 
 bread and pudding. He found no joyful 
 words. 
 
 The little man frowned scathingly on 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA. 
 
 45 
 
 the gift of Klaus, then burst into a scornful 
 laugh. 
 
 " It is always thus, friend, with the money 
 elves ; they deal niggardly, even at the full. 
 But, care not, since this meagre chip will 
 prove to you a barter for millions. Follow 
 me ! The great estates to Klaus ; the 
 treasures of the sea Korg shall know to- 
 night ! " And, with a hand-wave, the elf led 
 
 And, 
 
 turning 
 
 to Korg, he con- 
 
 the way over 
 the rough 
 cliffs, Korg 
 mutely fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 He paused 
 at the base 
 of a hillock, 
 shaped like a 
 horse- shoe 
 a spot which 
 Korg knew 
 
 well a place of rocks, reefs and general 
 
 ill-report. 
 
 "The time is favorable," muttered the 
 
 little man ; " my children are hungry to- 
 
 night." 
 tinued : 
 
 " Take the gift of Klaus and go down in 
 to the sea. A crowd will swarm upon you, 
 as persistent and voracious as any in this 
 upper world. Ask for the wonder-mill, and 
 sacrifice your treasures only in its exchange. 
 i will await you here." 
 
 A spell immediately enwrapped the senses 
 of Korg. Calm and fear- 
 less, he descended into 
 the deep, floating dream- 
 ily downward to the glit- 
 tering caves from whence, 
 exactly as the elf had de- 
 picted, swarmed forth 
 troops of mermen and 
 mermaids, with eyes and 
 arms voraciously ex- 
 tended towards the bread 
 and pudding he , held 
 tightly clutched to his 
 breast. But Korg, spurred 
 on by the elf, resisted 
 them all, nor parted with 
 a single crumb till the 
 wonder-mill lay safe in his embrace. The 
 little man stood waiting on the brink. 
 
 "I dedicate this to the honest poor," he 
 said, softly. "Yes, Korg, it is yours. Ask 
 of it what you will, and it shall never fail 
 you gold, silver, hundreds of loaves and 
 puddings. But " and here the little man 
 paused, a shudder quivered through his 
 frame, and he continued, solemnly "re- 
 member, that by no hand but yours can it 
 be controlled. Guard it carefully, for the 
 day you part with it your portion shall be 
 ashes and mine annihilation." 
 
 When Korg dared lift his eyes the elf 
 had disappeared. 
 
 Rahel sat at home with the children, 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA. 
 
 weeping. She knew well the heart of her 
 brother Klaus, and how vain would be 
 Korg's last effort to save them from starva- 
 tion. A step sounded on the path without. 
 Rahel and the babes stopped to listen. It 
 was not dull and heavy, as they had ex- 
 pected, but blithe as the jingle of sleigh- 
 bells, and, in a second, Korg burst in upon 
 them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. 
 Rahel regarded him, amazed. 
 
 " You bring no bread to our starving 
 babes, and yet you laugh," she said. " Oh, 
 Korg ! Korg ! trouble has made you mad ! " 
 
 Still chuckling he slipped the wonder-mill 
 from beneath his coat and said, softly : 
 
 " Hush, Rahel ! A geist has been with 
 me to-night. I have brought endless for- 
 tune from the depths of the sea." And 
 plump in the eyes of his astonished wife he 
 began turning out loaves and puddings 
 with such a gusto that the room was soon 
 filled and Rahel fain to implore him tc 
 cease his elfish work. 
 
 From that night, just as the little man had 
 said, riches unlimited came to the house of 
 Korg. No treasure too great for the mill 
 to produce ; and, though the wood-chopper 
 strove hard at secrecy, its fame spread far 
 and wide, from the mountains back to the 
 sea, and folks flocked by thousands to view 
 the magic engine that Korg had fished up 
 from the ocean's depths. And though, al- 
 ways good-humoredly, he tested its powers 
 and loaded his guests with princely gifts, 
 yet he rested night after night more un- 
 easily upon his pillow, remembering the 
 solemn words of the geist: 
 
 "The day you part with it, your portion 
 shall be ashes and mine annihilation." 
 
 One day, after the space of a year, there 
 came to the wood-chopper's door a captain 
 from far-off lands. 
 
 " I am here," he said, " to see the famous 
 wonder-mill that blesses the house of Korg." 
 
 There was a simplicity about the old tar 
 that completely dismantled Korg. With 
 less than ordinary caution he brought forth 
 the mill, and displayed it, in all its phases, 
 before his astonished guest. 
 
 "It is a clever trickster," finally he quoth. 
 "I wonder if it could grind so common a 
 thincr as salt?" 
 
 ^> 
 
 Korg chuckled contemptuously, and 
 speedily spurted right and left such a briny 
 shower as made the old tar blink spas- 
 modically and walk hurriedly away. 
 
 But, alas ! that night Korg missed the 
 mill from his side ; and when, pale and 
 shivering, he sought the golden treasures 
 hid 'neath the floor, he found only an ashy 
 heap and heard only the mournful words: 
 
 " The mermen and mermaids are dead. 
 The geists have ceased to reign." 
 
 Far out on the blue bosom of the sea the 
 jolly captain rode, shouting uproariously 
 over the treasure he had secured. 
 
 " Precious wonder-mill," he sang, " I will 
 try thee in all thy ways. First salt for 
 savor, then ducks for food, and gold to the 
 end of my days." And he started the tiny 
 wheels, and clapped his hands frantically at 
 its ready compliance to his will. 
 
 Forth poured the sparkling, crusty grain 
 in one buzzing maze of whiteness. Thick 
 gathered the milky drifts from bow to stern. 
 Still shouted the captain his savage joy till 
 a-sudden he paused, gazed as if spell-bound 
 on the mill's mad work, with a cry of terror 
 sprang forward and grasped the check. 
 But, in vain. There was no surcease to its 
 labor. Higher and higher up lifted the 
 mighty salt banks, and, in a twinkling, both 
 destroyed and destroyer sank helpless into 
 the depths of the sea. 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA. MAIDENHOOD. 
 
 47 
 
 And, down amid the green sea-weeds, are all dead, and the geists have ceased to 
 
 the wonder-will still stands, pouring forth reign. 
 
 salt the whole day long no hand to check And this is why the sea-water is salt, 
 its raging ; for the mermen and mermaids 
 
 MAIDENHOOD. 
 
 BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 M 
 
 AIDEN ! witli the meek brown eyes, 
 In whose orbs a shadow lies 
 Like the dusk in evening skies ! 
 
 Thou whose locks outshine the sun, 
 Golden tresses, wreathed in one, 
 As the braided streamlets run ! 
 
 Standing with reluctant feet, 
 Where the brook and river meet, 
 Womanhood and childhood fleet! 
 
 Gazing, with a timid glance, 
 On the brooklet's swift advance, 
 On the river's broad expanse ! 
 
 Deep and still, that gliding stream 
 Beautiful to thee must seem, 
 As the river of a dream ! 
 
 Then why pause with indecision, 
 When bright angels in thy vision 
 Beckon thee to fields Elysian ? 
 
 Seest thou shadows sailing by, 
 As the dove, with startled eye, 
 Sees the falcon's shadow fly ? 
 
 Bear a lily in thy hand ; 
 
 Gates of brass cannot withstand 
 
 One touch of that magic wand. 
 
 Oh, thou child of many prayers ! 
 
 Life hath quicksands Life hath snares ! 
 
 Care and age come unawares ! 
 
 Bear through sorrow, wrong and ruth, 
 In thy heart the dew of youth, 
 On thy lips the smile of truth. 
 
48 
 
 TROT, DOT AND BUNNY. 
 
 TROT, DOT AND BUNNY. 
 
 BY MRS. JANE E. ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 T 
 
 ROT, Dot and Bunny lived in a large " 'Es, cow named Tar, papa," Bunny would 
 
 echo. " With a white 'pot in her fowad." 
 Dot would always add. Then papa would 
 go on : " Yes, a nice cow, with a white spot 
 in her forehead, and we will name her 
 Star." 
 
 town. Trot was a nice boy, only five 
 years old, and Dot was just the dearest 
 little girl in the world. She was nearly 
 four; as for Bunny, she was only two years 
 old. 
 
 Papa sometimes put the children to bed, "And a little calf-fy," says Bunny. 
 
 when he was tired studying, so that mamma 
 'could rest, or patch Trot's trowsers, which 
 she generally did, instead of resting. When 
 papa put the children to bed, he always told 
 them a story. Just one story, that was all 
 he knew ; but as it was the only one the 
 children cared to hear, it did not so much 
 matter about his not knowing any others. 
 And this was the way the story began : 
 
 "Some time, when papa gets enough 
 rtoney, he is going to buy a cow." 
 
 \ cow named Star, papa," says Trot. 
 
 "Named Forget-me-not," says Trot, "so 
 we wont forget to feed her." 
 
 " I'll give her some gwass, I will," says 
 Dot, " dear little bossy calf." 
 
 " Well," says papa, " we will call the calf 
 Forget-me-not, so we wont forget to feed 
 her. Then Trot will pull down some hay 
 for the cow, and I will make her a nice 
 bran-mash, and while she is eating it I'll 
 milk." 
 
 " No ; I'll milk her, papa," says Trot. 
 
 "No; I milk!" cries Dot. 
 
TROT, DOT AND BUNNY. FOUR LITTLE KITTENS. 
 
 49 
 
 " Me milk," says little Bunny. 
 
 " Yes, we all will milk her, I guess," says 
 papa, and mamma laughs. 
 
 " Then, when we are all done milking, we 
 will come in to breakfast, and Trot and Dot 
 and Bunny shall have some nice new milk, 
 and mamma and I will have some nice 
 cream for our coffee. After breakfast I 
 will say : ' Come, Trot, and Dot, and Bunny, 
 you must take the cow to the pasture.' So 
 Trot will get his hat, and Dot and Bunny 
 will get their bonnets, and you each will get 
 a long stick to drive the cow with. I will 
 open the gate, and start the cow, and you 
 will follow, driving her." 
 
 " Go 'long," says Trot. 
 
 " No, I'll drive," says Dot. 
 
 " Me drive," says Bunny. 
 
 " Yes," says papa, " you all will drive her. 
 And, by and by, as the old cow goes walk- 
 ing quietly along, Trot will stop to see how 
 far he can throw a stone." 
 
 "I stop to pick daisies," says Dot. "I 
 'top to get a drink," says Bunny. "I want 
 some water," says Trot. " I want some, 
 too," says Dot. " Me want drink," says 
 little Bunny. 
 
 So papa gets the large tin dipper full of 
 water, and the thirsty little ones take a 
 drink all round, and then papa goes on with 
 his story: 
 
 " When the old cow casts one eye round, 
 and finds that you all have stopped, she 
 will think it just as well to stop a little her- 
 self, and gather a mouthful of the sweet 
 green grass that grows by the roadside ; 
 and there she will stay till Bunny takes up 
 her stick and touches her gently on her leg, 
 and says : ' Go 'ong, 'Tar.' 
 
 " Star moves on. By and by they come 
 to the brook. Trot finds such splendid 
 pebbles there, that he stops again to throw 
 stones. Dot and Bunny sail little sticks, 
 and Star stops to take a drink of the cool, 
 clear water." 
 
 "Me want dink," says Bunny, half asleep. 
 
 "I want a drink, too," says Trot, sitting 
 up in bed. 
 
 " I defful firsty," says Dot. 
 
 Papa passes around the tin dipper again, 
 and then three little heads sink back on 
 the pillows, and Trot, Dot and Bunny are 
 asleep. 
 
 FOUR LITTLE KITTENS. 
 
 A TRUE STORY. 
 
 OUR four little kittens are the cun- 
 ningest little creatures that ever 
 were seen. They scamper and run through 
 the house, up-stairs and down, as though 
 some fearful monster was after them. 
 
 Jane often tries to drive them out, but 
 they hide under the furniture and dodge 
 from place to place, until she loses her 
 patience and gives up the chase. When 
 
 she leaves them alone, they are worse than 
 ever. 
 
 Aunt Louise was visiting at our house 
 
 o 
 
 last week. One day she came in from a 
 drive and went up to her room. Hardly 
 had she closed the door before she re- 
 appeared at the head of the stairs, laughing 
 heartily and calling mamma and me to 
 come quickly. Up we ran, as fast as we 
 
50 FOUR LITTLE KITTENS. 
 
 could, and plunged into her room, and what Beauty sat admiring herself in the glass, 
 
 do you think we there found? The four while Dot rested on a fan and Daisy was 
 
 kittens were all mounted on the bureau top, reaching for some more of Aunt Louise's 
 
 and they had knocked things right and left bric-a brae, 
 
 in dire confusion. The perfume-bottle was We looked for a moment and roared 
 
 A KITTEN-ROMP ON THE BUREAU TOP. 
 
 shattered on the floor. The matches were with laughter ; then came a dash at the 
 
 scattered all about. The powder-puff was kittens. They scattered in all directions, 
 
 tossed out of the box, and Nig, the black and were quickly out of reach, while 
 
 kitten, was stirring up the powder and fill- mamma was bound they should be kept in 
 
 ing his own soft fur with the white dust, tfie barn. 
 
STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND CURLY-WURLY. 
 
 51 
 
 STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND 
 
 CURLY-WURLY 
 
 BY CHRYSSIE. 
 
 IN a large forest, under oak trees loaded 
 with acorns, lived a family of Wild 
 Pigs. The three young ones grunted, and 
 squealed, and played about to their hearts' 
 
 content. Their names were Hoggy-woggy, 
 Curly-wurly. 
 
 be good little pigs, and take great care of 
 one another. You, Hoggy-woggy, are too 
 fond of yourself; you, Piggy-wiggy, are 
 vain and selfish, too ; you must try to do 
 better; Curly-wurly, my dear little one, you 
 must go on helping the others to be good. 
 Farewell." Then the old pig died, and the 
 young ones were very sorry to lose her. 
 
 A few days later Curly-wurly said: "Our 
 mother built three houses for us, and she 
 said we were to have our choice which we 
 should live in. At night the crafty Fox is 
 always prowling round, and we shall have 
 no one now to take care of us. Let us go 
 and see the houses." 
 
 The three pigs set off through the wood. 
 They came to a hillock, on the top of which 
 was a nice little house made of glass. Over 
 it spread a fine old oak, round it was a car- 
 pet of green moss, with graceful ferns, and 
 at the foot of the hill ran a tiny stream. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Hoggy-woggy, "I must have 
 the glass house ; it is so pretty, and I shall 
 be sure to see if the Fox is coming." 
 
 One day the mother pig said: " My chil- "Ah, no," grunted Piggy-wiggy, 
 dren, I am going to die. I hope you will it myself." 
 
 1 want 
 
52 
 
 STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND CURLY-WURLY. 
 
 But Hoggy-woggy would not give it up. 
 He forgot all his mother had told him about 
 selfishness, and so did Piggy-wiggy. They 
 quarrelled for a long time, till at last Hoggy- 
 woggy ran in and shut the door, laughing at 
 Piggy-wiggy' 8 disappointment. 
 
 Good little Curly-wurly tried to comfort 
 
 her sister, and got her to come and look at 
 the other houses. 
 
 One was built of pretty, golden-green 
 moss, just like a bird's nest, and had a tuft 
 of ferns growing on the top. It was much 
 
 iron, and was very ugly, so she went into 
 the moss house, and shut the door. Poor 
 Curly-wurly was left to take possession of 
 the iron house all alone. " Well," she said 
 to herself, " this is not a pretty house, but it 
 is strong and good." 
 
 Night came. All the great forest was 
 silent ; the stars twinkled in the dark blue 
 sky. The old Fox crept slowly along, with 
 his sharp eyes watching. Suddenly he saw 
 a light before him a moonbeam was shin- 
 ing on a pane of the glass house. 
 
 "Hey!" said he to himself, "what can 
 this be ? I declare, it is a house made of 
 glass, and inside is a fine fat little black and 
 white pig, fast asleep ! How good he looks ! 
 How I should like to eat him ! " 
 
 Mr. Fox went up to the door, and gave; a 
 loud knock. 
 
 " Who's there ? " grunted Hoggy-woggy. 
 
 " I am," said the Fox, in his sweetest 
 voice. 
 
 " Who are you ? " said Hoggy-woggy. 
 
 " I am a very nice fellow," replied the 
 Fox. " I want to come in and talk to you. 
 
 warmer and cosier than the glass house, but I'll keep you company ; you must be very 
 
 Pig& v ' w 'kT was not content with it. How- lonely.' 
 
 ever, when she saw the other house, she, Hoggy-woggy now woke up, and saw 
 
 turned up her nose at it. It was made of through the glass that it was the dreadful 
 
STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND CURLY-WURLY. 
 
 53 
 
 Fox who was speaking. " Oh ! go away," 
 he cried ; " you can't get in here." He shook 
 and trembled. 
 
 " Very well," said the Fox. " If you won't 
 let me in quietly, I'll get in, in spite of you. 
 What a foolish pig you were to choose a 
 glass house ! Why, I can easily smash a 
 pane." So saying, he broke into the house, 
 and after chasing poor Hoggy-woggy round 
 and round, he caught him and killed him. 
 Then, having eaten as much as he wanted, 
 he carried the remainder home to his young 
 ones. 
 
 Next morning the other pigs came out to 
 see how Hoggy-woggy was getting on. They 
 
 found the glass house broken and poor 
 Hoggy-woggy gone. 
 
 That evening Curly-wurly went to the 
 moss house, and grunted to make Piggy- 
 wiggy open the door. 
 
 "Now, Piggy-wiggy," said Curly-wurly, 
 " I am so afraid the Fox may come again 
 to-night, and I don't think this moss house is 
 safe. Come and sleep in my iron house ; 
 it is so cosy, though it is not pretty. Do 
 come. I sha'n't be able to close my eyes if 
 you don't. I shall be so nervous, thinking 
 about you." 
 
 " Oh ! " squeaked Piggy-wiggy, " I'm not 
 
 much" afraid. I am sure if the Fox saw me 
 through the window, he would not touch' 
 me. , You know I was always thought the 
 beauty of the family. Besides, your house 
 is so ugly ; I could not bear to sleep in it. 
 I'll bar the door, and keep the window shut- 
 ters open, so that the Fox can have a good 
 look at me. I advise you, Curly, to hide 
 yourself, because you know you are all 
 black, and he could not admire you. Good- 
 night." 
 
 Piggy~ w iggy s h u t h er door and fastened 
 it, while poor Curly-wurly went home very 
 sad, thinking how foolish her pretty sister 
 was. 
 
 Just as the forest had gone to sleep that 
 night, and as the moon was rising slowly 
 above the tree- tops, Mr. Fox said good-bye 
 to his young ones. He told them he hoped 
 to bring home a dear little white pig for 
 their supper. They all danced and barked 
 when they heard the good news. 
 
 Mr. Fox soon arrived at the moss house. 
 In his mouth he carried a bunch of very 
 pretty wild grapes. He knocked at the 
 door. 
 
 "Who's there?" grunted Piggy-wiggy. 
 
 "A friend," said the Fox. 
 
 " Oh ! you are a wicked, bad fellow ! " 
 said Piggy-wiggy. " You killed my poor 
 brother last night. I won't have anything 
 to say to you." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said the Fox, in his sweetest 
 voice. "I'm so sorry you should think so 
 badly of me; I did not kill your brother; it 
 must have been the naughty Wolf. Foxes 
 do not eat pigs at all events not such a 
 beautiful pig as you are. You are lovely 
 so white and so kind. Do let me in. I 
 brought such a splendid bunch of grapes for 
 you." 
 
 "lam sure they are sour," said Piggy- 
 
54 STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND CURLY-WURLY. 
 
 wiggy, "and I don't believe a word you knocked loudly at Curly-wurly's door. She 
 
 say." asked, "Who is there?" 
 
 "Ah! you are very cruel," said the Fox. "Open the door and you will see," was 
 
 " Just let me in, pretty Piggy, and you will the answer. 
 
 
 never want to let me out again you will 
 get so fond of me." 
 
 But Piggy-wiggy still refused to open the 
 door. 
 
 " Oh, very well," said the Fox ; " if you 
 are so uncivil, I'll come in myself." 
 
 " You can't," said Piggy-wiggy; " the door 
 wont open." 
 
 " Oh, I do not want any door," said the 
 Fox ; " you are very green if you think I 
 can't get in some other way ! " 
 
 So he began to tear away the mossy sides 
 of the house. Very soon down fell the 
 wall, and the Fox jumped in. Then, in 
 spite of her piercing screams, he caught 
 poor Piggy-wiggy, threw her over his shoul- 
 der, and carried her off, kicking and squeal- 
 ing, to his den, where he and his family 
 soon ate her all up. 
 
 Poor Curly cried herself nearly sick next 
 day, and did not eat a bit. But towards 
 evening she got a very large pot, filled it 
 with water, and put it on the fire. Then 
 she locked her door and waited. Just after 
 nightfall, as before, the Fox arrived and 
 
 Now Curly-wurly knew who it was. "Go 
 away, you wicked, cruel Fox," she said. 
 " You have killed my brother and sister, 
 and I have no doubt you want to eat me, 
 too." 
 
 " Indeed I do," said the Fox (you see he 
 had grown bold and impudent, he had been 
 so victorious) ; " you are a darling, so nice 
 and fat, and my poor children are hungry. 
 
 So open the door. I know you like to make 
 
 everyone happy, and you would not be so 
 
 cruel as to disappoint my starving children." 
 
 "Starving children, indeed," said Curly- 
 
STORY OF HOGGY-WOGGY, PIGGY-WIGGY AND CURLY-WURLY. 
 
 55 
 
 wurly ; " little wretches ! I wish they were 
 all dead. Fine suppers they have had the 
 last two nights on my poor brother and 
 sister! I don't doubt you have a pot boiling 
 at home ready for me." 
 
 " Indeed I have," said the Fox, making a 
 low bow ; " the pot is ready, and the water, 
 too such sweet, clear water ; you would en- 
 joy being boiled in it. And my young ones 
 are anxiously waiting for you ; so open the 
 door and don't keep me waiting. You may 
 as well be civil, for I shall have you in any 
 case." 
 
 " Don't you wish you may get me ? " said 
 Curly-wurly. 
 
 " I do, and I mean to have you, too ! " 
 barked Mr. Fox. Then he began to push 
 and bang himself against the sides of the 
 house ; but he found to his great surprise 
 that he could not make a hole anywhere. 
 He got into a furious passion, and tore, and 
 bit, and knocked himself against the door 
 till his sides were all cut and bruised ; and 
 I am sorry to say he used very bad words. 
 
 But Curly-wurly said nothing at all. She 
 only waited patiently and listened ; then, 
 when she saw her pot of water was boiling, 
 she took it off the fire, and climbed up a 
 ladder to her little window. She pushed 
 it open very carefully, and suddenly, when 
 
 the Fox was again trying, in his rage, to 
 break down the door, she upset the boiling 
 water on him. He screamed and howled, 
 and ran away towards home as fast as he 
 was able. But he was so dreadfully scalded 
 that he dropped down dead at his own 
 
 door. This was a terrible end ; but the Fox 
 richly deserved it. I am glad to say his 
 children took warning by his fate, and never, 
 as long as they lived, ventured near a pig. 
 
 Good little Curly-wurly after this lived a 
 long and happy life in her strong, safe iron 
 house. 
 
 HOW THEY USED TO PUNISH THE SCHOOL-BOYS. 
 
 O 
 
 LD Master Brown brought his rattan down, 
 And his face looked angry and red : 
 
 " Go, seat you there, now, Anthony Blair, 
 Along with the girls," he said. 
 
 Then Anthony Blair, with a mortified air, 
 With his head down on his breast, 
 
 Took his penitent seat, by the maiden sweet 
 That he loved, of all, the best. 
 
 And Anthony Blair, seemed whimpering there, 
 But the rogue only made believe ; 
 
 For he peeped at the girls with the beautiful curls, 
 And smiled at them over his sleeve. 
 
56 
 
 THE BALL THAT DIDN'T KEEP A SECRET. 
 
 THE BALL THAT DIDN'T KEEP A SECRET. 
 
 BY GEORGE ADAMS. 
 
 IT was in a garret. There was a woman 
 there, and a girl, and a very little girl 
 who lisped, who laughed, who was never 
 idle, who was always hungry. Though she 
 was such a small child she had a long name. 
 It was Wilhelmina but they called her 
 Mina. 
 
 Around the girl and the woman lay 
 scraps of leather, and stout kid, and bright 
 bits of stuff, as bright as the flowers in the 
 dormer-window, that nodded and nodded 
 good-morning to the blue sky over head. 
 Shavings were there in a box, and wads of 
 cotton, and many odds and ends for stuffing, 
 for they were making balls for the toy- 
 shop that stood in the next street but 
 one. 
 
 It just happened that Mina was hungry 
 at this moment, so the mother, putting 
 down the ball she was stuffing, went into 
 the pantry to cut some bread. Mina stood 
 by the work-table. She had nothing to do, 
 so her busy little brain spoke to her busy 
 little fingers : 
 
 " S'pothe you help mamma with that ugly 
 old ball ; it's tho velly ugly! " 
 
 So the busy little fingers seized on some- 
 thing that peeped from beneath a heap of 
 work, directed, and bearing a stamp, and 
 poked and pushed and drove it into the 
 heart of the Ball. 
 
 " I don't belong here," it cried, as loud as 
 it knew how. " Take me out ! " 
 
 But, as no matter how loud it cried it 
 would never know how to cry loud enough 
 to be heard, it was of no use. Mina ran 
 away, the mother came back and sewed it 
 up with her strong needle and her strong 
 Thread safe into the heart of the Ball. 
 
 " How this kid creaks, Gretchen," she 
 said to the older girl. 
 
 Gretchen nodded her head. 
 
 "That's because it was in the cargo wet 
 with salt water," she said. 
 
 But there she was wrong. The Ball was 
 declaring over and over again, as well as it 
 knew how, that it must come to pieces, it 
 must come to pieces ! 
 
 "You will, one of these days," grumbled 
 the Thread, "as sure as flax is flax, for I'm 
 exceedingly rotten though I don't look 
 so." 
 
 " I'm afraid it will be too late," sighed the 
 Ball anxiously. 
 
 Just then the Letter spoke up for it- 
 self. 
 
 " I don't mind telling you," it said, " why 
 I am so much put out by the accident which 
 has befallen me. I am expected to carry a 
 message to Mina's brother, who was a wild 
 lad, and ran off to sea five years ago. Now 
 he has written and wants to come back 
 home and be forgiven. He is in a nasty 
 little town not far away, waiting for the 
 mother's pardon before he dares come 
 here. If he got no reply, he said, by the 
 end of the week, he would sail away again. 
 You can judge how anxious I feel, shut up 
 here so hopelessly as I am." 
 
 The Ball was so deeply affected by what 
 the Letter told, that it almost burst; but the 
 Thread obstinately held on fast and kept it 
 tight. 
 
 " What are you about ? " it scolded. " I 
 never saw such a dunce as you are ? Here 
 we are packed in a box ready for the toy- 
 man to carry to his shop ; what good is 
 done by bursting now? Somebody who 
 
MINA STUFFING THE LETTER INTO THE BALL. 
 
 57 
 
58 
 
 THE BALL THAT DIDN'T KEEP A SECRET. 
 
 unpacks us will throw you out as damaged 
 stock, you'll go to the ash barrel, and the 
 poor woman will have to pay for bad work 
 and that will be the end of you and your 
 Letter. Let me manage this ; any one can 
 see you are a bouncing, good-natured creat- 
 ure, without a shred more head than tail." 
 
 "In justice to yourselves I must remind 
 you," remarked the Letter, " that when you 
 let me out, that is the end of you both." 
 
 " Oh," said the Ball quite simply, " that is 
 understood. But what are we to the hap- 
 piness or misery of these people ? " 
 
 " I have something to tell you," said the 
 Thread, more amiably than it usually spoke. 
 " Once I was a little blue flower in the free 
 fields. I was visited at night by the beau- 
 tiful dew from the pure upper air, and by 
 day by the genial sunbeam from the far-up 
 heaven. Sometimes the rain fell, and that 
 had come a long way from the great ocean 
 which touches every shore of the whole 
 world ; there were many stories told me, 
 and much that I learned. Each said the 
 dew, the sunbeam, the rain that it was not 
 always what I then saw it. ' I have not 
 always been so useful, so beautiful, so well- 
 known and. loved, but every time I do a 
 good act I change and never change but for 
 the better.' That was what each one said. 
 May it not be so with everything ? If, then, 
 we strive to give up the Letter, that may 
 not be the end of us, but quite the con- 
 trary." 
 
 " I am sure I should have done it quite 
 the same," said the Ball humbly, " though I 
 didn't know that before." 
 
 " No one expected you did," retorted the 
 Thread. 
 
 " Relations should not disagree," re- 
 marked the Letter, " and I have discovered 
 we are related." 
 
 " Ah, hardly," said the Ball ; " my parent- 
 age is humble. I came from the hot low 
 fields far in the south, where the dark 
 African tills the burning ground beneath a 
 burning sun, and the fresh green plants 
 thrive and grow until the bud peeps be- 
 tween the leaves, swells and swells, and 
 bursts with a little noise, while the soft 
 white cotton, like a filmy smoke, rises and 
 falls gently hanging. From such a plant I 
 came, and that is an humble birth." 
 
 " Not so bad," said the Thread, conde- 
 scendingly. " Still, cotton is not linen, 
 every one will confess. I have very fine 
 relations even in kings' palaces, and my 
 family is very old." 
 
 The Ball knew nothing of kings' palaces; 
 so it cared no more than if the Thread had 
 substituted fishermen's huts which it might 
 have done with equal truth. 
 
 " I am not exactly linen," said the Letter, 
 "although I have a good deal of it in my 
 veins ; at least, I am descended from that 
 stock, and from the cotton, too. I am a 
 further remove than either of you ; but all 
 impurities have been pressed, and pressed, 
 and pressed out of me. My relatives have 
 done great things ; they have shown heroes, 
 kings, princes in their true light to the 
 world ; they have taken charge of noble 
 words and high trusts. The Declaration 
 of Independence is in my family-keeping." 
 
 The Ball felt its heart glow with pride at 
 finding such a connection. It was a true 
 patriot, for its colors were red, white, and 
 blue. "That charge," it cried, "is the 
 greatest in the world ! I would die to pre- 
 serve it, if it were mine oh, be careful of 
 it," be careful of it ! " 
 
 " Hush," said the Thread. " Here wo 
 are. Now do what I tell you, but nothing 
 more." 
 
THE BALL THAT DIDN'T KEEP A SECRET. 
 
 They had arrived at the toy-shop, and 
 were being unpacked. 
 
 In the meanwhile, at the house the mother 
 was clearing away the day's work. 
 
 " Gretchen," she asked anxiously, " did 
 you mail the letter at once, as I told you ?" 
 
 " Did I ? " repeated the girl. She was 
 pinning a ribbon at her neck, and turning 
 her head now this way, now that, to see 
 how it looked, for she was pretty and knew 
 it. " Why, I suppose so. If it is not there, 
 I must have." 
 
 "Oh, Gretchen," said the mother, re- 
 proachfully, " to speak so carelessly of such 
 a letter as that ! " 
 
 "I have no memory," said the girl, un- 
 easily; "how can I help it? Of course I 
 took it if it isn't there." And she came 
 herself to turn over the work on the 
 
 table. " Oh, yes, of course I did," she 
 repeated. 
 
 " Will brover Max come back ? " cried 
 Mina wonderingly. 
 
 " He will come back, thank God ! " whis- 
 pered the mother, catching the child to her 
 breast ; " perhaps to-night." 
 
 But that night he did not come, nor the 
 next, and there remained but one to close 
 the week. 
 
 " How long have we now ?" inquired the 
 Ball of the Letter. " My heart is heavy 
 with keeping this secret how much time is 
 left us?" 
 
 " One day," sighed the Letter, " and I am 
 so cramped in this position I fear I never 
 can unfold again." 
 
 o 
 
 "Don't mind that now," said the Ball. 
 " We must act." With that he tumbled off 
 the shelf, and rolled out into the middle of 
 the toy-shop floor. 
 
 " I didn't tell you to do that," exclaimed 
 the Thread, angrily, " I wasn't prepared ! 
 Here is one stitch of me gone ! W T ho ever 
 thought of your doing such a rash thing ! '* 
 
 The Ball said nothing. It had so little to 
 say for itself, had listened so quietly to 
 every one else, had observed so much, it 
 had learned to trust its own judgment. 
 
 A little boy stood by his father's side. It 
 was at his feet the Ball had thrown itself 
 with a gay, enticing spring and roll. The 
 boy cried out with delight, and begged for 
 it ; so when he left the shop he carried the 
 Ball in his hand. 
 
 As they left the city, and the cars carried 
 them swiftly towards the little town by the 
 sea, where every house smelt of bilge-water, 
 and where, when the tide was high, the sea 
 itself delighted to hide in small, dusky pools 
 in many low, dark cellars, the Thread in- 
 
THE BALL THAT DIDN'T KEEP A SECRET. 
 
 formed the Letter and the Ball that the 
 father was a sailor. The Ball knew it 
 already, for it had seen that for itself before 
 it tumbled from the shelf. 
 
 They went into a narrow street and the 
 child, with other children, began to play. 
 He threw the Ball against a house, and it 
 sprang so high and airily, up, down ! down, 
 up ! only a touch on the rough stones, into 
 his hands ! only a spurring leap from the 
 hard bricks, into his hand ! All the children 
 in the street shouted. 
 
 " I am going fast," said the Thread, 
 breathlessly. " One or two more such leaps 
 as yours, and I wont be two whole stitches. 
 I wouldn't burst on the ground the chil- 
 dren can't read." 
 
 " No the children will only tear me to 
 pieces," said the Letter. It, too, was breath- 
 less and excited. " I shall never reach the 
 post if you burst here." 
 
 " I see a window," said the Ball, cheerily. 
 " Some one is inside a little effort, and I 
 can spring through. Will you both be 
 ready?" 
 
 " We will try," answered the Thread and 
 the Letter. 
 
 " Good-bye, my friends," said the Ball 
 tenderly, and then leaped high and sprang 
 within the window. As it fell to the floor, 
 the Thread gave way, the Ball burst, the 
 Letter thrust a large, agitated corner into 
 sight. 
 
 The young man, who sat on the side of 
 his bed, his head drooped dejectedly in his 
 thin hand (for he had been ill), started. 
 What lay at his feet ? 
 
 Only a soiled, a useless, broken toy. 
 
 He stooped and picked it up, turning it 
 in his hand, while his thoughts wandered 
 sadly to the home which, unpardoned as he 
 was, he was this time to leave forever. 
 The warm tears fell slowly down his cheeks. 
 
 " I have made some money," he thought, 
 " and I hoped it would be easier for the 
 poor, hard-worked mother, and Gretchen, 
 and little Mina she was a baby when I last 
 saw her. What have I now to live for ? 
 But I have deserved it. I have never been 
 a good son." 
 
 Now he noticed the sharp, clean edge of 
 an envelope where an envelope was never 
 meant to be. He pulled it out with an ab- 
 sent mind. The writing caught his eye. 
 " It is hers ! " he cried. " The name is mine ! 
 It is the address I gave her." 
 
 With that he tore the Letter open, de- 
 voured hungrily with his eyes the words of 
 love and pardon, and fell upon his knees, 
 sobbing and thanking God. 
 
 And what became of the Ball ? 
 
 It was thrown into the street and lay in 
 the gutter ; was swept by a heavy rain down 
 the sewer and carried into the heaving bay; 
 was cast up, a toy of the waves ; was 
 thrown upon the level, sandy beach. And 
 now some part floats a mote in the sun- 
 beam ; some part falls in the dew ; some 
 part has become a happy, graceful flower ; 
 some part on the ocean billows sweeps dis- 
 tant shores ; and to-day some part pours 
 silent blessings from that white cloud which 
 drifts idly in the high, blue air, far above 
 your head. 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 61 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 BY F. BLAKE CROFTON. 
 
 w 
 
 A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 PHY do I keep up that horrid habit 
 of taking snuff? " 
 
 Perhaps, my dear boy, you would n't think 
 it quite such " a horrid habit " if it had saved 
 your life, as it did mine. 
 
 "Saved your life, Major?" 
 
 That's just what it did. What's the good 
 of repeating what I said, in such a tone as 
 that just as if anybody had doubted it? 
 
 " Only wanted to hear the story," did 
 you? Well, that's natural enough, boys, 
 I suppose I'm caught now, and in for tell- 
 ing it: 
 
 A party of three myself and two negroes 
 had been collecting young animals. We 
 had just captured a fine young rhinoceros 
 and a very promising little crocodile, and 
 had tied the captives in our wagon. We 
 were taking a hasty meal before starting for 
 home, when we perceived the parent animals 
 advancing from different quarters to the 
 rescue of their offspring. 
 
 In an instant our guns were cocked. 
 Two aimed at the galloping rhinoceros, one 
 at the waddling crocodile. We pulled to- 
 gether. One negro's bullet hit the reptile 
 on the back ; but he was a hard-shelled 
 crocodile, and wasn't a bit hurt. My gun 
 and the other negro's missed fire. When 
 we were struggling with the baby crocodile, 
 the locks of our guns had got under water, 
 and we had carelessly forgotten to unload 
 and clean the weapons. 
 
 The oxen ,had not been yoked, and the 
 wagon stood near a tamarind-tree, which 
 we hastened to climb. The negroes got up 
 it like monkeys, but I was indebted to the 
 rhinoceros for the favor of a hoist. It ar- 
 
 rived before I could pull myself up on the 
 second branch, and it just managed to touch 
 my foot with its horn, giving me a very use- 
 ful and unexpected lift. The tamarind 
 shook with the shock of the beasts's charge. 
 
 Soon the crocodile arrived, too, and the 
 blockade of the tree was complete. At first 
 we had hoped the animals might contrive to 
 release their young ones and retreat ; but 
 the cords had been too well tied, and the 
 awkward parents could do nothing for their 
 young without injuring the little creatures ; 
 so they waited on and on for their revenge. 
 They were quite friendly to each other, and 
 seemed to have formed a sort of alliance. 
 
 Half a hot day went by, and it became 
 plain that the animals would outlast us, un- 
 less something turned up. They had two 
 advantages over us in not being obliged 
 to cling to branches, and in having water at 
 hand, to which they went, one at a time, to 
 refresh themselves. Before climbing, we 
 had been forced to drop our fire-arms, wet 
 and dry. 
 
 At last I got out my snuff-box, and took a 
 pinch to aid my deliberations. I wondered 
 whether the crocodile would think it " a hor- 
 rid habit ; " at all events, I thought it could do 
 no harm to try. One of my negroes always 
 carried whip-cord to mend the whips and 
 the harness of the wagon. I borrowed' this 
 cord, and let down some snuff, in a piece of 
 paper, within a few inches of the crocodile's 
 snout, then I shook the string and scattered 
 the snuff. 
 
 Shortly afterward the crocodile made a 
 sound so very human that I was almost go- 
 ing to call it a remark. 
 
 "Ackachu ! " observed the reptile. 
 
($2 
 
 THE. MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 "Ackachu! Ackachu! Ackachu!" it re- 
 peated at intervals, opening its jaws wide 
 every time. 
 
 The rhinoceros was surprised and grieved 
 at this behavior on the part of its ally. It 
 seemed undecided whether to take it as a 
 personal insult or as a sign of insanity. 
 This furnished me with an idea. I would 
 
 "Ackachu ! " remarked the rhinoceros J 
 "Ackachu ! Ackachu ! " opening his mouth 
 in the very way the crocodile had done. 
 
 It was too much for a crocodile to stand. 
 To be mocked thus, and in the presence of 
 its child! The blood of the Leviathans was 
 
 up 
 
 At this moment, we scattered the last of 
 
 sow the seeds of discord between the 
 friendly monsters, and turn their brute 
 strength against each other. 
 
 I could not get at the rhinoceros myself, 
 but one of the negroes was just above it ; 
 so I passed him the box and the string, and 
 directed him to give the beast a few pinches 
 of snuff, as I had done to the crocodile. 
 
 The latter had just ceased sneezing, when, 
 to its vexation and disgust, it heard the rhi- 
 noceros apparently beginning to mimic it. 
 
 the snuff in the faces of both animals, im- 
 partially. 
 
 "Ackachu!" they roared, grimacing at 
 each other HWeously and threateningly for 
 a few moments. Then they rushed to bat- 
 tle, uttering the same war-cry, "Ackachu!' 
 
 The rhinoceros " had the best in the first 
 round. He got his horn under the croco- 
 dile's lower jaw, and tossed it over on its 
 back. The reptile now seemed help! 
 yet, with a sweep of its resistless tail, it 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. . 63 
 
 knocked its enemy's fore legs from beneath hand of an unskilful slinger by the force of 
 
 him, and prevented his following up his ad- a slung stone, and following the latter in its 
 
 vantage promptly. Soon, however, the flight. 
 
 rhinoceros got around the prostrate saurian, Anxious to read the riddle, I descended 
 
 was about to stamp upon the unarmored and anchored my balloon. Here, perhaps, 
 
 side of its body, when a convulsive sneeze I thought was some new weapon, marvelous 
 
 came to the reptile's aid, and gave an elec- as the Australian boomerang, to grace my 
 
 trie energy to its muscles. With a tri- collection of savage arms. However, I saw 
 
 umphant "Ackachu!" it regained its feet, no lurking savage, and no strange new mis- 
 
 and clutched a leg of the rhinoceros in its sile, from the top of tree on which I alighted; 
 
 huge jaws. This was turning the scales but I saw a family party of snakes on the 
 
 with a vengeance on the enemy, who now ground beneath. Two young ones were 
 
 tried to crush the saurian's shell by means evidently being drilled by their parents in 
 
 of his superior weight. the mode of warfare peculiar to their race. 
 
 Such was the blindness of their fury that Placing the dead parrot aside, as the prize 
 I now felt it was quite safe to descend and of valor and skill, the parent snakes formed 
 yoke the oxen. We drove off with their a ring with their bodies. On entering this 
 young ones before the very eyes of the arena, each young one by a strange con- 
 monsters, who were too busy to note our tortion formed a knot upon its gristly tail, 
 departure. For the moment, their parental and attacked the other with this artificial 
 affection had been fairly snuffed out. weapon. They would advance to the attack 
 
 spinning like wheels, and, once within strik- 
 
 THE CATAPULT SNAKE. }ng distance down WQuld come their knots 
 
 "So you believe there were no such things with a surprisingly quick jerk. They could 
 
 as flying serpents in ancient times, Major?" convert a circle into a straight line and a 
 
 If the ancients were right, my boy, then straight line into a circle, more rapidly than 
 
 flying must be numbered among the lost any professor of geometry I ever met ; yet, 
 
 arts of snakes. There is a kind, though, though they hit each other several times, 
 
 that can as good as fly, and this may have they seemed to do little damage, for these 
 
 deceived some respectable old pagans. youngsters, of course, could not be expected 
 
 It was owing to my unlucky balloon that to tie such hard and tight knots as their 
 
 I got the chance of seeing this shy and re- elders. A combat between two hardened 
 
 tiring reptile. I was sailing over a grove, old catapults as I named these reptiles 
 
 watching the antics of a parrot perched on would be a serious matter, I should judge, 
 
 the very top of a tall palm, when suddenly This spirited tournament came to a sud- 
 
 something like a bent arrow, or rocket, shot den close. As I was straining forward to 
 
 out of a lower tree, struck the bird, and sank get a better view, a branch cracked beneath 
 
 down with it through the leaves of the palm, my foot, and the sound caught the heedful 
 
 Unlike an arrow in one respect, the ear of the mother snake. In a second the 
 strange missile coiled and curved in its pas- wary reptile caljed " time," and issued a 
 sage through the air. Perhaps I should warning hiss ; at which her well-trained off- 
 have likened it to a sling, dragged from the spring hastily retreated, jumping down her 
 
64 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 throat for protection. The catapult is a 
 great inventor an Edison among snakes ; 
 yet it cannot justly claim a patent for this 
 mode of sheltering its young in time of dan- 
 ger. Vipers and rattlesnakes are said to 
 have practiced the same trick for a great 
 many years.* 
 
 The color of the catapult is green ; but it 
 
 is not half as green as it looks. This I 
 found out to my cost; for, although the mo- 
 ther had vanished beneath the long grass, 
 the male began to make mysterious prepara- 
 tions for war. 
 
 He began operations by knotting his tail 
 with an audible crack. He twisted its 
 
 knotted end firmly around a projecting rout 
 of the tree on which I was perched. Then 
 he reared his head toward a branch which 
 lay directly between his tail and me. This 
 branch, though seemingly too high, he 
 reached with ease by simply shooting out 
 an extra joint for the catapult is the only 
 serpent that is built upon the telescopic plan. 
 Having grasped the branch in his jaws, he 
 began shortening himself with wonderful 
 contractile power, until his body, stretched 
 between the root and the branch, looked 
 like the string of a bent bow, or of a cata- 
 pult at full cock. 
 
 I now thought it high time to set about 
 unmooring my balloon, as I did not exactly 
 know what to expect next. But, before I 
 had untied the first rope, the snake unwound 
 his tail from the root of the tree, let go his 
 hold of the branch, shot himself into the air, 
 and struck me sharply, with his knot, on the 
 left shoulder. 
 
 The shock of the contact with my shoul- 
 der changed the snake's course in the air. 
 He fell to the ground some little distance 
 away. He was quite unhurt, and hastened 
 to prepare for a second assault. However, 
 I happened to be in as great a hurry as he 
 was, and just when he had taken position for 
 another fight, I let go my anchor-rope, and 
 up went the balloon. 
 
 I had discovered what missile it was that 
 killed the parrot, but I paid dearly for the 
 knowledge. My shoulder ached for weeks 
 afterward. 
 
 * Strange to say, the remakahle Major has a foundation for his statement here. The records of some naturalists support him. If it is 
 true, the viper may certainly claim disinterested parental devotion as an offset against its wicked ways. EDI I<>K.. 
 
THE HEDGE OF THORNS. 
 
 65 
 
 THE HEDOE OF THORNS. 
 
 !*THEL lived in the country, in a village 
 J 4 not far from London. Every morn- 
 ing she went to school. Now, the road 
 which she had to go by turned into a field, 
 which was fenced by a hedge of thorns, and 
 at some places she had to walk close by the 
 thorns. 
 
 The next day Ethel again passed the 
 same way. Just before her went a flock 
 of sheep, with a shepherd behind them. 
 The sheep kept close by the hedge, and 
 left little tufts of their wool sticking on the 
 thorns. And see ! at once a hundred little 
 birds come and pick up the wool, with which 
 
 One day Ethel stumbled just when she 
 was close to the hedge. She fell on her 
 hands among the thorns. Weeping bit- 
 terly, and looking at the hedge, she 
 said : 
 
 " You nasty, ugly hedge ! Of what use 
 can you be ? I wish you were burnt down 
 at once." 
 
 they fly away as quickly as they can, to 
 make nests for their little ones. 
 
 When Ethel saw this, she felt how foolish 
 and wicked had been her wish, and she said 
 to herself: " I am very glad that my wish 
 has not been granted, and the hedge burnt 
 down. I now see that there is a good use 
 served even by thorns and thistles." 
 
 A OREAT OLD SCRATCHER. 
 
 THERE was a man in our town, 
 And he was wondrous wise ; 
 He jumped into a bramble bush 
 And scratched out both his eyes. 
 
 And when he found his eyes were out, 
 With all his might and main 
 He jumped into another bush, 
 And scratched them in again. 
 
MY UNCLE JEHOSHAPHAT. 
 
 MY UNCLE JEHOSHAPHAT. 
 
 BY MRS. LAURA E. RICHARDS. 
 
 M 
 
 Y Uncle Jehoshaphat had a pig, 
 
 A pig of high degree ; 
 And it always wore a brown scratch wig, 
 
 Most beautiful for to see. 
 
 My Uncle Jehoshaphat he swam up, 
 And the piggy-wig he swam down ; 
 
 And so they both did win the prize, 
 Which the same was a velvet gown. 
 
 My Uncle Jehoshaphat loved that pig, 
 And the piggy-wig he loved him ; 
 
 And they both jumped into the lake one day, 
 To see which best could swim. 
 
 My Uncle Jehoshaphat wore one-half, 
 And the piggy-wig wore the other; 
 
 And they both rode to town on the brindled calf, 
 To carry it home to its mother. 
 
JIM SMILEY'S FROG. 
 
 67 
 
 JIM SMILEY'S FROO. 
 
 BY SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 WELL, this yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, 
 and chicken-cocks, and all them 
 kind of things, till you couldn't rest, and 
 you couldn't fetch nothing- for him to bet on 
 but he'd match you. He ketched a frog 
 one day, and took him home, and said he 
 cal'klated to edercate him ; and so he never 
 done nothing for three months but set in his 
 back yard and learn that frog to jump. And 
 you bet he did learn him, too. He'd give 
 him a little punch behind, and the next 
 minute you'd see that frog whirling in the 
 air like a doughnut see him turn one sum- 
 merset, or maybe a couple, if he got a good 
 start, and come down flat-footed and all 
 right, like a cat. He got him up so in the 
 matter of catching flies, and kept him in 
 practice so constant, that he'd nail a fly 
 every time as far as he could see him. 
 Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, 
 and he could do most anything; and I be- 
 lieve him. Why, I've seen him set Dan'l 
 Webster down here on the floor Dan'l 
 Webster was the name of the frog and 
 sing out, " Flies, Dan'l, flies," and quicker'n 
 you could wink he'd spring straight up, and 
 snake a fly off'n the counter there, and flop 
 down on the floor again, and fall to scratch- 
 ing the side of his head with his hind foot 
 as indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd 
 been doing any more'n any frog might do. 
 
 You never see a frog so modest and 
 straightfor'ard as he was, for all he was so 
 gifted. And when it came to fair and 
 square jumping on a dead level, he could 
 get over more ground at one straddle than 
 any animal of his breed you ever see. 
 Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog, 
 and well he might be, for fellers that had 
 
 travelled, and been everywheres, all said he 
 beat any frog that ever they see. 
 
 Well, Smiley kept the beast in a little 
 lattice box, and he used to fetch him down 
 town sometimes, and lay for a bet. One 
 day a feller a stranger in the camp, he was 
 came across him with his box, and says: 
 
 "What might it be that you've got in the 
 box?" 
 
 And Smiley says, sorter indifferent like, 
 "It might be a parrot, or it might be a 
 canary, may be, but it aint it's only just a 
 frog." 
 
 And the feller took it, and looked at it 
 careful, and turned it round this way and 
 that, and says, " H'm ! so 'tis. Well, what's 
 he good for ? " 
 
 " Well," Smiley says, easy and careless, 
 "he's good enough for one thing, I should 
 judge he can outjump any frog in Cala- 
 veras county." 
 
 The feller took the box again, and took 
 another long particular look, and gave it 
 back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, 
 "Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog 
 that's any better'n any other frog." 
 
 "May be you don't," Smiley says. ""May 
 be you understand frogs, and may be you 
 don't understand 'em ; may be you've had 
 experience, and may be you aint only a 
 amature, as it were. Anyways, I've got my 
 opinion, and I'll risk forty dollars that he 
 can outjump any frog in Calaveras county." 
 
 And the feller studied a minute, and then 
 says, kinder sad like, "Well, I'm only a 
 stranger here, and I ain't got no frog; but 
 if I had a frog, I'd bet you." 
 
 And then Smiley says, "That's all right 
 that's all right; if you'll hold my box a 
 
JIM SMILEY'S FROG. 
 
 minute, I'll go and get you a frog." And " Now, if you're ready, set him alongside 
 so the feller took the box, and put up his of Dan'l, with his fore-paws just even with 
 forty dollars along with Smiley's, and set Dan'l, and I'll give the word." Then he 
 down to wait. So he set there a good says, " One two three jump ; " and him 
 while, thinking and thinking to hisself, and and the feller touched up the frogs from 
 then he got the frog out and prized his behind, and the new frog hopped off, but 
 
 Dan'l give a heave, and hysted up his shoul- 
 ders so like a Frenchman, but it wasn't 
 no use he couldn't budge ; he was planted 
 as solid as an anvil, and he couldn't no more 
 stir than if he was anchored out. Smiley 
 was a good deal surprised, and he was dis- 
 gusted, too, but he didn't have no idea what 
 the matter was, of course. 
 
 The feller took the -money and started 
 away ; and when he was going out at the 
 door, he sorter jerked his thumb over his 
 shoulder at Dan'l, and says again, very de- 
 liberate, " Well, / don't see no p'ints about 
 that frog that's any better'n any other frog." 
 Smiley he stood scratching his head, and 
 looking down at Dan'l a long time, and at 
 last he says, " I do wonder if there aint 
 something the matter with that frog; he 
 'pears to look mighty baggy, somehow." 
 And he ketched Dan'l by the nap of the 
 neck, and lifted him up, and says, "Why, 
 
 mouth open, and took a teaspoon and filled 
 him full of quail shot filled him pretty 
 near up to his chin and set him on the 
 floor. Smiley he went to the swamp, and 
 slopped around in the mud for a long time, 
 and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched 
 him in, and give him to this feller, an'd 
 says: 
 
 blame my cats, if he don't weigh about five 
 pound!" and turned him upside down, and 
 he belched out a double handful of shot. 
 And then- he see how it was, and he was 
 the maddest man. He set the frog down, 
 and took out after that feller, but he never 
 ketched him. 
 
 THE BULLFROO AND THE SPIDER. 
 
 A BULLFROG sat in a rocking-chair, 
 By the side of a babbling brook ; 
 His specs were straddled across his nose, 
 
 As he read from a story, book. 
 Just then a spider came along, 
 Whistling a merry lay;. 
 
 The bullfrog jumped and grabbed at him, 
 
 But the spider got away. 
 The chair upset, the specs were broke, 
 
 The bullfrog's book got wet; 
 But the spider stopped, and smiled, and said, 
 
 " You haven't caught me yrl." 
 
THE COMB. FORTUNE AND THE BEGGAR. 
 
 THE COMB. 
 
 FROM THE RUSSIAN OF KRILOF, BY W. R. S. RALSTON. 
 
 A LOVING mother bought a good 
 strong Comb to keep her boy's hair 
 in order. The child never let his new pres- 
 ent go out of his hands. Whether playing 
 or learning his alphabet, he was always lov- 
 ingly passing his Comb through the twining 
 curls of his waving, golden hair, Ibft as fine 
 flax. And what a Comb it was! Not only 
 did it not pull out his hair, but it never even 
 got caught in it ; so smoothly and easily did 
 it glide through his locks. It was a' price-'' 
 less Comb in the eyes of the child. But at 
 last it happened, one day, that the Comb 
 was mislaid. Our boy went playing and 
 romping about, until he got his hair into a 
 regular tangle. Scarcely had the nurse 
 touched it, when he began to howl. 
 
 " Where is my Comb ? " 
 
 At last it was found ; but when they tried 
 to pass it through his locks, it could not be 
 moved either backwards or forwards : all it 
 did was to pull his hair out by the roots, so 
 as to bring the tears into his eyes. 
 
 " How wicked you are, you bad Comb !" 
 cries the boy. 
 
 But the Comb replies : 
 
 " My dear, I am what I always was ; only 
 your hair has become tangled." 
 
 Whereupon our young friend, giving way 
 to rage and vexation, flings his Comb into 
 the river. And now the Naiads comb ^heit 
 hair with it. 
 
 FORTUNE AND THE BEGGAR. 
 
 A WRETCHED Beggar, carrying a rag- 
 ged old wallet, was creeping along 
 from house to house ; and, as he grumbled 
 at his lot, he kept wondering that folks who 
 lived in rich apartments, and were up to 
 their throats in money and in the sweets of 
 indulgence, should be always unsatisfied, 
 however full their pockets might be, and 
 that they should go so far as often to lose 
 all they have while unreasonably craving 
 for, and laying their hands on, new riches. 
 At this moment Fortune suddenly ap- 
 
 peared to the Beggar, and said: " Listen ! I 
 have long wished to help you. Here is a 
 lot of ducats I have found. Hold out your 
 wallet, and I will fill 'it with them ; but only 
 on this condition : All shall be gold that 
 falls into the wallet; but if any of it falls out 
 of the wallet to the ground, it shall all be- 
 come dust. Consider this well. I have 
 warned you beforehand. I shall keep strictly 
 to my compact** ^four wallet is old ; don't 
 overload it beyond its powers." 
 
 Our Beggar is* almost too overjoyed to 
 
70 
 
 FORTUNE AND THE BEGGAR MR. JONES'S CAT. 
 
 breathe. He scarcely feels the ground be- 
 neath his feet. He opens his wallet, and 
 with generous hand a golden stream of 
 ducats is poured into it. The wallet soon 
 becomes rather heavy. 
 
 "Is that enough?" 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 "Isn't it cracking?" 
 
 " Never fear." 
 
 " Consider; you're quite a Crcesus." 
 
 "Just a little more; just add one more 
 handful." 
 
 " There, it's full. Take care : the wallet 
 is going to burst." 
 
 "Just a little bit more." 
 
 But at that moment the wallet split; the 
 treasure fell through and turned to dust, 
 
 and Fortune disappeared. The Beggar had 
 nothing but his empty wallet, and remained 
 as poor as before. 
 
 MR. JONES'S CAT. 
 
 THERE is no lack of cats in the world. 
 Everybody's garden contains more 
 cats than anybody wants. The back fences 
 are enlivened by them night and day, and 
 our quiet hours are broken up by their hor- 
 rible music. Most of these troublesome cus- 
 tomers are nobody's cats. Nobody has in- 
 terested himself to care for and train them. 
 They have grown up wild and unrefined, 
 and that is why they are so noisy and unin- 
 teresting. But all cats are not so bad. 
 Some are orderly and well-behaved as could 
 be desired. 
 
 Mr. Jones had a cat of this good sort. 
 Look at the big picture on the opposite 
 page, but don't think all these cats are Mr. 
 Jones's. Do you see the cat looking out of 
 a window ? Look sharp and you will see 
 up in the corner near this cat the figure i. 
 Well, picture No. i is Mr. Jones's cat, and 
 
 the cat's name is Jim. Jim heard sparrows 
 chirping, so he climbed up to catch them, 
 but, alas for Jim, no sooner did his bright 
 eyes appear at the window than away flew 
 the sparrows to Jim's disappointment and 
 disgust, as picture No. 2 shows. 
 
 Now Jim was not an overly bad cat, nor 
 was he extra good. But his disappointment 
 with the sparrows made him feel awfully 
 hungry, so he hunted around till he found 
 the milk-pail, on which the cook had not put 
 the cover very tightly. Jim nosed around 
 the pail and directly he knocked the lid off 
 when in went his head, and he soon drank 
 his fill. (Picture No. 3). But Jim was l>i^ 
 and hearty, so he said to himself that milk 
 was "baby victuals," while he wanted nu-at, 
 so off he went hunting for meat. He found 
 
 
 
 it. It was stowed away in a basket, and he 
 worked and wriggled at the lid till it flew 
 
MR. JONES'S JIM AND OTHER CATS. 
 
 71 
 
72 
 
 MR. JONES'S CAT. 
 
 off, and Jim dived, clawing and biting at 
 the mutton chops and beefsteak, until he 
 had mauled it all over, and had eaten all he 
 wished. See his desperate work on the meat 
 basket in picture No. 4. 
 
 But milk and meat did not satisfy Jim. He 
 had started for game. He wanted to break- 
 
 o 
 
 fast on a sparrow, but the sparrows did not 
 want to be breakfasted on, so picture No. 5 
 shows his next move. What is he now at ? 
 The little dark picture, No. 6, shows the 
 game Jim now pursued, and with a nice, fat, 
 juicy, kicking mouse to eat, Jim was content. 
 
 About the time Jim did all these capers a 
 great cat-show was opened at the Crystal 
 Palace in London, near where Jim lived, and 
 Mr. Jones, believing in Jim as a great cat, 
 packed him in a basket, labeled him properly 
 and skipped him to the show. Jim was 
 rather sad at the idea of being shut up in the 
 basket, but shut up he was and off be went 
 to the cat-show. (Picture No. 7.) 
 
 All the cats at the cat-show were put 
 along in neat wire cages and every one had 
 two or three balls to play with. No. 8 shows 
 how some of Jim's companions amused 
 themselves with the wire netting of the ca^es 
 
 o o 
 
 and with the balls, but Jim saw no fun in 
 this. He sat in royal dignity and gazed, 
 while other cats of less repute frolicked 
 away their time. No. 9 is Jim's appearance 
 in his cage. He was discontented but quiet. 
 A i^reat out-door romp would have suited 
 him far better. 
 
 When feeding-time came round the cats 
 were all ready to eat, and group 10 in the 
 picture shows Jim and four other cats chew- 
 ing their suppers. After eating, each cat 
 was supplied with a fine dish of milk into 
 which nice soft bread crumbs had been bro- 
 ken. See Jim and his friends taking their 
 bread and milk. (Group No. n.) After 
 supper came the scratching-time and the 
 scouring-time in which Jim and other cats 
 took willing part. How many cats are at 
 this work in group 1 2 ? Which is Jim ? 
 
 After supper and the scratch and the 
 scrub came sleep. See the cats in No. 13 
 going off to sleep. Is Jim there ? Which 
 is he, if he is there ? 
 
 But the great cat-show came to an end. 
 Gentlemen and ladies went around and 
 looked at all the cats to see which was the 
 finest and best. The cats all scrubbed up 
 their fur and looked their very best, but the 
 judges all agreed that the finest cat there 
 was Mr. Jones's Jim. So Jim's cage had a 
 sign tacked on it, saying FIRST PRIZE, and 
 Jim had a splendid medal tied around his 
 neck, while all the people clapped their 
 hands in admiration and all the cats squalled 
 out with envy. 
 
 That night Jim in his joy made three reso- 
 lutions, which were these: (i) I wont kill 
 birds; (2) I wont steal milk or meat; (3) I 
 wont eat mice. Whether Jim kept his reso- 
 lutions Mr. Jones can tell. Write to him 
 about it. 
 
 WHY THE CAT SHOW CLOSED. 
 
 TKN fine cats at a cat show 
 Were sitting in a row ; 
 A great big dog came bouncing in, 
 And away the cats did go. 
 
 Away, away the cats flew ; 
 
 Not one of them did stay ; 
 And the cat show came to a speedy end. 
 
 And closed its doors that clay. 
 
THE CLOUDS. 
 
 73 
 
 THE CLOUDS. 
 
 ONE day John and Mary took a walk 
 with their father. It was a very 
 warm, sultry day, and far up in the sky were 
 many clouds. 
 
 "Just look, papa," said John; "what big 
 clouds!" 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Mary. "I wonder what 
 the clouds are made for ? " 
 
 "The clouds are very useful," said the 
 father. " They are big curtains" 
 
 the cows in the meadows feel the heat very 
 much, and the flowers and plants bow their 
 little heads to the ground. Then the clouds 
 are spread out before the sun, just as our 
 curtains are pulled down, and the cows 
 begin to leap and run about, and the flowers 
 and plants to lift up their heads." 
 
 While the father was speaking it began 
 to rain. They went into a farm-house for 
 shelter. The children stood at the window 
 
 " Curtains ! " cried the children, in wonder. 
 
 " Yes, of course," said their father. " Don't 
 you know what we use curtains for?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Mary; "I know. When 
 the sun shines too brightly, we pull down 
 the curtains to keep off the heat." 
 
 "Quite so," replied the father. "Now, 
 when the sun shines bright on the fields, 
 
 to look at the rain, which was tailing in 
 heavy showers. 
 
 " That rain, too," said the father, " comes 
 from the clouds." 
 
 "What a pity!" said John. "We can't 
 walk now ; everything is wet." 
 
 "True," answered the father. "Still 
 it is very useful. The clouds are made 
 
74 
 
 THE CLOUDS. 
 
 to give rain. They are big watering- 
 pots" 
 
 " Watering-pots ? " asked Mary, in great 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes, my dear," said the father. "What 
 does our gardener use. his watering-pot 
 for?" 
 
 "To water the ground," said John, quickly. 
 
 "Yes," said Mary; "for if the ground is 
 too dry the flowers will not grow." 
 
 "Just so," said the father. "When the 
 big meadows and fields are too dry, the 
 water is poured down from the clouds upon 
 them. And when the farmer's land is so 
 dry that the potatoes and the cabbage and 
 the wheat wont grow, the clouds water it." 
 
 "Oh, I see! I see!" cried John. "Then 
 the rain comes out of those big clouds ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the father ; " the clouds are 
 big watering-pots which water this beautiful 
 earth of ours." 
 
 The rain was soon over, and the father 
 went out again with his children. 
 
 o 
 
 " How nice it is ! " they said, as they 
 breathed the cool, fresh air. 
 
 " Yes," said the father ; " it is made so by 
 the big watering-pots. Now, look at the 
 clouds!" 
 
 The children looked up and clapped their 
 hands. "Oh," they cried, "how beautiful!" 
 
 There the great clouds floated about in 
 the sky. The sun had just broken through 
 them and given them all sorts of fine colors. 
 Some had gilt edges ; others were red like 
 crimson; some again were purple, pink, 
 light-blue, and dark-blue. Many of them, 
 too, had most striking forms. On the left- 
 hand side was a large bluish cloud that 
 looked just like a ship, with its sails set up 
 to the very top; on the right was a dark 
 cloud that had very much the shape of a big 
 cow, with three horns. 
 
 The children looked with delight at the 
 fine sights above them. 
 
 " Now, you see," said the father, " that 
 the clouds are pictures^ too. We hang up 
 pictures in our rooms. So the golden, 
 purple, and blue clouds on the walls of the 
 sky, make a beautiful drawing-room of our 
 whole earth." 
 
 NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. 
 
 GOLDEN head so lowly bending, 
 Little feet so white and bare, 
 Dewy eyes, half shut, half opened, 
 Lisping out her evening prayer. 
 
 " Now I lay," repeat it, darling 
 
 " Lay me," lisped the tiny lips 
 Of my daughter, kneeling, bending 
 
 O'er the folded finger-tips. 
 
 " Down to sleep," " To sleep," she murmured, 
 And the curly head bent low ; 
 
 " I pray the Lord," I gently added, 
 " You can say it all, I know." 
 
 " Pray the Lord," the sound came faintly. 
 Fainter still " My soul to keep ;" 
 
 Then the tired heart fairly nodded, 
 And the child was fast asleep, 
 
 But the dewy eyes half opened 
 When I clasped her to my breast, 
 
 And the dear voice softly whispered : 
 " Mamma, God knows all the rest." 
 
A DOG STORY. 
 
 75 
 
 A DOQ STORY. 
 
 IN New York City there lived a family 
 named Snelling, in which were three 
 children a boy, who was the eldest, and 
 his two sisters. They had a large Shepherd 
 dog that they called Shep. They were all 
 very fond of each other, and often had very 
 funny romps together. One day a rather 
 plainly dressed, elderly lady was at the 
 house sewing. She had left her hat and 
 wrap rather carelessly hung upon the hat- 
 rack in the lower hall. When the children 
 came in from school Shep ran to greet 
 them, and with the door open they had a 
 jolly time in the front hall. 
 
 After some ordinary play, Edna, the elder 
 girl, who was boiling over with fun, caught 
 sight of the plain looking bonnet and shawl 
 on the hat-rack, and at once proposed to 
 dress up Shep. All of them jumped at the 
 idea, so Shep was mounted upon the seat 
 of the hat-rack, and in a trice the bonnet 
 was tied about his neck, and the shawl was 
 pinned about his shoulders. While Edna 
 dressed the dog, Ned kept him diverted by 
 feeding him with bits of cake from his own 
 lunch box, but the lunch was soon exhausted, 
 and the dog began pawing at his odd cloth- 
 ing to get rid of it. Of course the children 
 tried to stop him, but this only excited the 
 dog. He pulled and squirmed, and the 
 children held on, and tussled with him, till 
 by a sudden dash he broke loose and darted 
 out the door in his funny rig. 
 
 Just as Shep bounded down the steps 
 onto the sidewalk, a party of street boys 
 came by, who, seeing the dog in such a 
 dress, set up a yell and started after him. 
 Shep was not used to such attentions, so he 
 ran, and the boys ran, and other boys joined 
 the chase, and some of them shouted " mad 
 
 dag," and that started a policeman, and he 
 gave chase, and directly he tried to shoot 
 poor Shep, who just then tried to jump over 
 a wheelbarrow that stood in his way, but so 
 tired was he that he tripped over it and fell 
 sprawling in the mud of the street. 
 
 Fortunately for Shep, the man who owned 
 
 the barrow saw the trouble, and, catching 
 Shep, soon pulled off the soiled hat anM 
 wrap, and poor Shep, after being heartily 
 laughed at by the crowd, ran home after 
 Ned who had followed the chase as best 
 he could. The dismay of the quiet old 
 lady when she saw her soiled clothes was 
 very serious, but it had been the fault of 
 the children in meddling with her things, so 
 that Mrs. Snelling replaced the soiled articles 
 with others, and the children promised never 
 again to meddle with other people's things. 
 
THE FUNNY MANDARIN. 
 
 ' 
 
 _ 
 
 
 THE FUNNY MANDARIN. 
 
 BY PALMER COX. 
 
 T 
 
 (HERE was a funny mandarin 
 
 Who had a funny way, 
 Of sliding down the balustrade 
 A dozen times a day. 
 
 The " surest " aim may miss the game, 
 The "safest" ship go down, 
 
 And one mistake will bring to blame 
 The wisest men in town. 
 
 With arms in air and streaming hair, 
 At risk of bone and brain, 
 
 Around and round the winding stair 
 He slid the rail amain. 
 
 And thus it ran, that daring man, 
 \Yho never thought to fail, 
 
 At last, in spite of every plan, 
 Went gliding off the rail. 
 
THE FUNNY MANDARIN. 
 
 77 
 
 -ii. 
 
 The servants then, unlucky men, 
 Began to laugh and grin, 
 
 Which, like a lion in its den, 
 Aroused that mandarin. 
 
 "Ho, ho!" said he, "you laugh at me? 
 
 Now, slaves, you each shall slide ! " 
 And when they all had met a fall, 
 
 He laughed until he cried. 
 
 HE LAUGHED UNTIL HE CRIED. 
 
78 
 
 PATTY'S TRAVELLING \\.\C,. 
 
 PATTY'S TRAVELLING BAG. 
 
 BY MRS. CLARA ERSKINE CLEMENT. 
 
 PATRICIA LEE is a little girl, not 
 quite five years old, who lives in 
 Boston. She is an only daughter, and has 
 four grown-up brothers, who were all very 
 happy when she was born, because they 
 had always wished for a sisteV. 
 
 They had a great deal of trouble in nam- 
 ing her, and I think you could scarcely 
 guess why she had so unusual a name as 
 Patricia is for a little Boston girl, and the 
 reason is a real boy's reason. 
 
 The truth is Patricia was born on the 
 Seventeenth of March, St. Patrick's Day, 
 and as he appears to be a saint who smiles 
 upon all kinds of jollity and " likes a good 
 time," the boys changed his name enough 
 to make it suit a girl, and the baby was 
 solemnly christened Patricia, which soon be- 
 came Patty, for short. 
 
 Not long ago Patty Lee's mamma was to 
 have a large party, and Patty said, with a 
 wise look : 
 
 "There will be too much excitement in 
 the house for Patty, and she wants to go to 
 
 Aunt Mary's to stay all ru'ght, and sleep in 
 the room next Cousin Alice." 
 
 Patty's family thought this a very good 
 idea, and it was decided that she should go. 
 Patty had never spent the night away from 
 home, but she loved her Aunt Mary so 
 much and was so fond of her cousins, Alice 
 and Belle, that it seemed quite natural that 
 she should wish to pass the night with 
 them. 
 
 When the day of the party arrived, Patty 
 asked Jier mamma, after luncheon, if she 
 could pack her valise all her own self, and 
 have just what she wished to carry to her 
 aunt's. Mrs. Lee thought it would be just 
 the sort of thing that would make the little 
 girl quiet and happy, so she gave her leave 
 to go to the trunk-room with her nurse, 
 Maggie, and choose the valise that pleased 
 her best. 
 
 After much thought Patty decided upon a 
 large travelling bag which belonged to her 
 eldest brother. It was embroidered in 
 wools and had a spirited-looking horse's 
 
PACKING HER VALISE. 
 
 79 
 
80 
 
 PATTY'S TRAVELLING BAG. 
 
 head on one side, and Patty seemed to think 
 that this horse could carry the bag ! 
 
 When Maggie had carried the bag to 
 Patty's room, she began to pack it, talking 
 all the time thus : 
 
 " Now, course I can't go a journey all 
 alone, and I shall take Doll Jenny, 'cause 
 she's been sick and lost all her hair but 
 I'll carry her wig, too, and p'r'aps I'll ask 
 Aunt Mary to glue it on, and play the jour- 
 ney made her all well, and her hair all 
 growed out. Oh, dear, how sick dolls do 
 look disagreeable with no hair!" Then 
 into the bag went Jenny, head first, and the 
 wig followed. " Now, Maggie," she began 
 again, "course I must take some cologne, 
 and I shall seal my tooth-picks in an en- 
 velope and I shall take Dolly Marguerite, 
 'cause she is so good, and Beauty, 'cause 
 'cause I want to." Then Patty grew so busy 
 with her hands that she gave her tongue a 
 little rest as she flew about the room, open- 
 ing closets and drawers, and packing stock- 
 ings and slippers, handkerchiefs and collars 
 enough for a real journey. She added her 
 purse and her frog bank, and told the frog, 
 as she dropped him into the bag, not to 
 eat Beauty's ear-rings. Then she reflected 
 a moment before going to her work drawer, 
 where she selected some threads of gay 
 wool, some canvas, and her thimble. Next 
 she o.ccupied herself with her library, which 
 is large for a child like Patty, and decided 
 upon three or four books that she said 
 " would 'muse me in the morning." 
 
 o 
 
 Thus she continued until the ba^j was full 
 
 o 
 
 to overflowing, when she rushed to her 
 mamma and said : 
 
 " Do you suppose Aunt Mary will lend 
 me a pencil ? I have packed some note 
 paper and envelopes." 
 
 When the brothers heard this they 
 
 shouted, and when they saw the bag they 
 told her that she never could get on over 
 night in the world with so few things, and 
 that she "ought to carry a rocking-chair, 
 and a hot-water bottle, and a thermometer, 
 and be able to make herself comfortable." 
 But Patty only laughed and said: "My ! boys 
 are so joky." 
 
 Mrs. Lee soberly assisted Patty to put 01 
 her cloak and bonnet, and kissed her good- 
 by, while Maggie took the heavy bag, and 
 went with Patty to Aunt Mary's house, 
 which was but three doors away. 
 
 Every one at Mrs. Lee's was so busy in 
 preparing for the party, that no more was 
 thought of Patty. At seven o'clock, when 
 Mrs. Lee was arranging flowers, and hurry- 
 ing through the last preparations for the 
 evening, Patty's Uncle Richard appeared, 
 and announced that Patty wished to come 
 home. 
 
 He related how she had gone to her 
 room after Maggie left her, and unpacked 
 her bag, put her various belon^in^s in such 
 places as pleased her best, and laid Doll 
 Jenny in the bed to wait until she should go 
 herself to sleep with her. 
 
 She then went to dinner, and everything 
 \vas as merry as a little girl's first visit 
 should be, when suddenly Patty spoke : 
 
 " I must go home ; I want to tell my 
 mamma something that I forgot." 
 
 Aunt Mary answered: "Wait till after 
 dinner, Patty," hoping she would forget 
 what she had just said. 
 
 But soon Patty's cheeks grew very r< d, 
 and her eyes filled with tears, and she began 
 to sob : 
 
 " I must tell mamma ; I must tell her 
 something that I forgot." 
 
 Mrs. Lee immediately sent Maggie to 
 bring Patty home. When the child came 
 
PATTY'S TRAVELLING BAG. 
 
 81 
 
 she seemed to fear that she should not be 
 welcome, and hung her head down and 
 looked out of the corners of her eyes in a 
 bashful, appealing little way. But her papa 
 and mamma and all her brothers comforted 
 her ; they gave her some flowers, and told 
 her it was not at all naughty for her to come 
 home. The truth was they were all very 
 glad that she did not wish to stay away. 
 
 Soon Patty was in bed and fast asleep. 
 She had sobbed and cried herself so weary 
 that no excitement could keep her awake 
 now, but before she shut her eyes she 
 whispered to her mamma : 
 
 " I guess Jenny wont wake up nor cry, 
 nor trouble Aunt Mary, and if she wants 
 anything I guess she can find it, 'cause 
 everything is there ! " 
 
 This visit of Patty's, and all her grand 
 preparations, seemed a great joke to her 
 brothers ; they laughed much over it, but 
 they said nothing to her, because they 
 wished to see what she would do next. 
 
 In the morning Patty was rather sober, 
 and confided to her youngest brother that 
 she did not like journeys at all. In 'the 
 afternoon she asked permission to go to her 
 Aunt Mary's to repack her bag. Maggie 
 went with her, and it took a long time for 
 the little lady to arrange everything to be 
 
 taken home, and when she got there at last, 
 she declared herself too tired to put her 
 things in order that day. But she began to 
 feel that her labor had not been in vain ; for 
 when she took Jenny out of the bed, her 
 hair was all fast to her head, and the dear 
 doll looked as good as new. Patty was so 
 impressed by this that a few days after she 
 told a bald-headed old gentleman who called 
 on her papa that if he would " go on a jour- 
 ney and sleep one night, his head would 
 have blonde curls with a blue ribbon on 
 them!" 
 
 On the day after her bag was brought 
 home Patty was busier than ever, for we all 
 know that it is more trouble to put our 
 things in order when we return from a jour- 
 ney than it is to pack them to go away. 
 
 So Patty was occupied three days in going 
 away to pass the night, and did not do it 
 after all. It is very droll to hear Patty say, 
 as she often does, something about " that 
 night when I stayed at Aunt Mary's." 
 
 Then her brothers say: "But, Patty, you 
 didn't stay." 
 
 " Well, that is no matter," she answers. 
 " I packed my bag, and I took all my things, 
 and I left them there and I allowed Jenny 
 to stay, an' that is a pretty good journey, I 
 
82 
 
 THE NAUGHTY UMBRELLA. 
 
 THE NAUGHTY UMBRELLA. 
 
 IT was raining- awfully hard one day. 
 The rain came down so fast, and the 
 wind blew so hard, and the pavements were 
 so wet, and the gutters so full of water that 
 everybody hated to go out, and nobody did 
 go out who could stay in, except one little 
 girl. 
 
 Little Daisy Deems was flattening her 
 her chubby little nose against the front 
 window. She thought it was splendid 
 fun to splash along in the rain, under an 
 umbrella, as she saw some people doing. 
 Out on the front porch was standing an 
 umbrella, and she thought she would just 
 run out, hoist the umbrella, take a little 
 run in the rain, come back all nice and 
 dry, and mother would never know what 
 the little girl had enjoyed. 
 
 Pleased as Daisy was with the thought 
 of a run in the rain, there was another 
 thought which came just then that was 
 not so pleasant. What would mother 
 say? But Daisy said to herself, "Mother 
 wont know it. I'll take the umbrella, and 
 wont get wet, and that'll be all right." 
 She wasn't altogether happy about it, but 
 she started, and then she stopped, and 
 then she looked out at the window again, 
 and the water looked so nice to her that she 
 said almost aloud, "I will go; I will." 
 
 Out ran little Daisy, and in so much of a 
 hurry was she, that she ran right off the 
 porch, and into the rain, before she attempted 
 to hoist her umbrella. But just then the 
 umbrella had a naughty streak, and wouldn't 
 go up. Daisy tugged at it, and the rain 
 came down harder than ever, and the drip- 
 pings from the umbrella ran down her back, 
 and her feet were wet through and through. 
 Frightened by her troubles she began to cry. 
 
 Just as her eyes began to rain tears a 
 gust of wind came and caught the umbrella 
 out of Daisy's little hand, and away it Hew 
 into the street. Daisy started to catch it, 
 but the water was up over the pavement, 
 so that she did not see the curbstone, and 
 over it she tumbled, face down, into the 
 water. She thought she was gone sure, ex- 
 
 pecting to be drowned, but her mother, see- 
 ing the front door open, had come to close 
 it, and was just in time to see Daisy tumble 
 into the gutter. 
 
 Of course her mother ran to the little 
 girl, and pulled her out half drowned ; but 
 her mother, too, got soaking wet, and the 
 umbrella blew so far away that it was not 
 found till the next day. 
 
 * 
 
 This is the story of " The Naughty Um- 
 brella," but really, the story ought to be 
 called " The Naughty Daisy." 
 
SHOOTING PORPOISES. 
 
 SHOOTING PORPOISES. 
 
 BY T. DE WITT TALMAGE. 
 
 BANG, bang! went the gun at the side 
 of the San Jacinto, after we had been 
 two days out at sea on the way to Savannah. 
 We were startled ai such a strange sound 
 on shipboard, and asked : 
 " What are they doing ? " 
 A few innocents of the deep, for the pur- 
 pose of breathing or sport, had lifted them- 
 selves above the waves, and a genteman 
 
 coming up to breathe it would endanger 
 our own supply of air, I would have said: 
 
 " Save the passengers and kill the dol- 
 phins ! " 
 
 If the marksman had harpooned a whale 
 there would have been the oil for use ; or 
 had struck clown a gull, in its anatomy he 
 might have advanced science. If he had 
 gunpowdered the cook it might, in small 
 
 found amusement in tickling them with shot. 
 As the porpoise rolled over wounded, and 
 its blood coJored the wave, the gunner was 
 congratulated by his comrades on the exe- 
 cution made. 
 
 It may have been natural dulness that 
 kept us from appreciating the grandeur of 
 the deed. Had the porpoise impeded the 
 march of the San Jacinto, I would have 
 said: 
 
 " Dose it with lead ! " 
 
 . 
 
 If there had been a possibility that by 
 
 quantities, have made him animated; or the 
 stewardess, there would have been the fun 
 of seeing her jump. But, alas for the cruel- 
 disposition of the man who could shoot a 
 porpoise ! 
 
 There is no need that we go to sea to 
 find the same style of gunning. 
 
 After tea the parlor is full of romp. The 
 children are playing " Ugly Mug," and 
 " Bear," and " Tag," and " Yonder stands a 
 lovely creature." Papa goes in among the 
 playing dolphins with the splash and dignity 
 
84 
 
 SHOOTING PORPOISES. GETTING READY FOR FUN. 
 
 of a San Jacinto. He cries, "Jim, get my 
 slippers ! " " Mary, roll up the stand ! " 
 "Jane, get me the evening newspaper!" 
 " Sophia, go to bed ! " " Harry, quit that 
 snicker!" "Stop that confounded noise, 
 all of you ! " The fun is over. The water 
 is quiet. The dolphins have turned their 
 last somersault. Instead of getting down 
 on his hands and knees, and being as lively 
 as a " bear," as any of them, he goes to 
 shooting porpoises. 
 
 Here is a large school of famous preten- 
 sion, professors high-salaried, apparatus 
 complete, globes on which you can travel 
 round the world in five minutes, spectro- 
 sccpes, and Leyden jars, and chromatropes, 
 and electric batteries. No one disputed its 
 influence or its well-earned fame. The 
 masters and misses that graduate come out 
 equipped for duty. Long may it stand 
 the adornment of the town. But a widow 
 
 whose sons were killed in the war opens a 
 school in her basement. She has a small 
 group of little children whose tuition is her 
 sole means of subsistence. The high school 
 looks with sharp eyes on the rising up of 
 the low school. The big institution has no 
 respect whatever for little institutions. The 
 parents patronizing the widow must be per- 
 suaded that they are wasting their children's 
 time in that basement. Women have no 
 right to be widows or have their sons killed 
 in the war. From the windows of the high 
 school the arrows are pointed at the helpless 
 establishment in the corner. "Bang!" goes 
 the artillery of scorn till one of the widow's 
 scholars has gone. "Bang!" go the guns 
 from the deck of the great educational craft 
 till the innovating institution turns over and 
 over and disappears. Well done ! Used 
 it up quick! Ha! ha! ha! Shooting por- 
 poises ! 
 
 GETTING READY FOR FUN. 
 
 (See Frontispiece.} 
 
 HERE is a jolly little party of children. They represent a gentleman and lady, of 
 
 They are at their grandpa's, spend- course but what one word does their action 
 
 ing Christmas, and one of their aunties has and appearance suggest? 
 
 gotten up a set of "Charades" to amuse After these two have strutted their little 
 
 the company. part, and have left the room, the larger lad, 
 
 In Charades, a word is chosen having two who is painting an elegant mustache, and 
 
 or more syllables, and each of the syllables who has such fine flowing hair, will enter 
 
 is acted out as best it can be. The company the room, and walk around. What one word 
 
 sees the acts, one for each syllable, and then will be suggested by his appearance ? 
 
 guesses the word that all the syllables make. Have you guessed the two words which 
 
 Study up these little folks, and see what these two parties suggest, and which to- 
 
 you can guess. The little girl and boy gether form the one word of the Charade ? 
 
 nearest you, who are dressed up so oddly, If not, wont rain suit for the first part? 
 
 will enter the room together and walk about. And is not the second part an elegant 
 
 They will look upward anxiously, as if study- beau? Put the two ideas together, and, 
 
 ing the clouds. She will hug her umbrella, so far as the sound oes, we have rainbow, 
 
 and he is wrapped in a big waterproof, the word of the Charade. 
 
MARVELLOUS WATERS. 
 
 85 
 
 MARVELLOUS WATERS. 
 
 FROM "SAMANTHA AT SARATOGA," BY JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE. 
 
 " "\ ~\ THY, I see a feller jest now who sez 
 V V he don't believe anybody would 
 
 there. Why the old man kep' on a livin', 
 and a livin', till he got to be a hundred. 
 And he wuz kinder lazy naturally, and he 
 got tired of livin'. He said he wuz tired 
 of gettin' up mornin's and dressin' of him, 
 
 ever die at all, if they kep' themselves 
 kinder wet through all the time with this 
 water." 
 
 Sez I, " Josiah Allen, you are not talkin' tired of pullin' on his boots and drawin' on , 
 Bible. The Bible sez, ' all flesh is as his trowses, and he told his grandson, Sam, 
 grass.'" to take him up to Troy, and let him die. 
 
 "Wall, that is what he meant; if the 
 grass wuz watered with that water all the 
 time, it wouldn't never wilt." 
 
 "Oh, shaw!" sez I. (I seldom say shaw, 
 but this seemed to me a time for shawin'.) 
 
 But Josiah kep' on, for he wuz fearfully 
 excited. Sez he, "Why, the feller said there 
 wuz a old man who lived right by the side 
 of this spring, and felt the effects of it in- 
 side and out all the time, it wuz so healthy 
 
 "Wall, Sam took him up to Troy, and he 
 died right away, almost. And Sam bein' a 
 good hearted chap, thought it would please 
 the old man to be buried down by the spring, 
 that healthy spot. So he took him back 
 there in a wagon he borrowed. And when 
 he got clost to the spring, Sam heard a 
 si, and he looked back, and there the 
 old gentleman wuz a settin' up a leanin' his 
 head on his elbo, and he sez, in a sort of a 
 
86 
 
 MARVELLOUS WATERS. 
 
 sad way, not mad, but melancholly, *' You 
 hadn't ort to done it, Sam. You hadn't 
 ort to. I'm in now for another hundred 
 years.' ' 
 
 I told Josiah I didn't believe that. Sez I, 
 " I believe the waters are good, very good, 
 and the air is healthy here in the extreme, 
 but I don't believe that." 
 
 But he said it wuz a fact, and the feller 
 
 once to calculate on it, on how much he 
 could drink of it, if he begun early in the 
 mornin', and drinked late at.night. 
 
 But I kep' on megum. I drinked the 
 waters that seemed to help me and made 
 me feel better, but wuz megum in it, and 
 didn't get over excited about any on 'em. 
 But oh ! oh ! the quantities of that water 
 that Josiah Allen took ! Why, it seemed 
 
 said he could prove it. " Why," Josiah sez, 
 "with the minerals there is in that spring, 
 if you only take enough of it, I don't see 
 how anybody can die." And sez Josiah, 
 "I am a goin' to jest live on that water 
 while I am here." 
 
 "Wall," sez I, "you must do as you are a 
 mind to, with fear and tremblin'." 
 
 I thought mebby quotin' Scripture to him 
 would kinder quell him down, for he wuz 
 fearfully agitated and wrought up about 
 the Everlastin' Spring. And he began at 
 
 as if he would make a perfect shipwreck 
 of his own body, and wash himself a\vay, 
 till one day he came in fearful excited agin, 
 and sez he, in agitated axents, " I made a 
 mistake, Samantha. The Immortal spring 
 is the one for me." 
 
 "Why?" sez I. 
 
 "Oh, I have jest seen a feller that has 
 been a tellin' me about it." 
 
 "What did he say?" sez I, in calm 
 axents. 
 
 " Wall, I'll tell you. It has acted on my 
 
MARVELLOUS WATERS. 
 
 87 
 
 feelin's dretful." Sez he, " I have shed 
 some tears." (I see Josiah Allen had been 
 a cryin' when he came in.) 
 
 And I sez agin, " What is it ? " 
 
 " Wall," he said, " this man had a dretful 
 sick wife. And he wuz a carryin' her to the 
 Immortal spring jest as fast as he could, for 
 he felt it would save her, if he could get 
 her to it. But she died a mile and a half 
 from the spring. It wuz night, for he had 
 travelled night and day to get her there, 
 and the tarvens wuz all shut up, and he 
 laid her on the spring-house floor, and laid 
 
 down himself on one of the benches. He 
 took a drink himself, the last thing before 
 he laid down, for he felt that he must 
 have sunthin' to sustain him in his afflic- 
 tion. 
 
 " Wall, in the night he heard a splashin', 
 and he rousted up, and he see that he had 
 left the water kinder careless the night 
 before, and it had broke loose and covered 
 the floor, and riz up round the body, and 
 there she wuz, all bright and hearty, a 
 splashin' and a swimmin' round in the 
 water." 
 
 A GROUP OF HOUNDS WHICH HAVE WON PRIZES. 
 
88 
 
 SCARECROWS. 
 
 SCARKCROWS. 
 
 CROWS are very fond of corn, and 
 they are not a bit slow at stealing it. 
 But farmers do not let the corn lie around 
 loose, so that sometimes crows do not get 
 much chance even to steal it. But corn 
 must be planted in the spring time. Great 
 quantities of it are then put in the soft, 
 moist earth, where it quickly softens, and 
 swells, and sprouts up, and then the crows 
 are the happiest of all happy birds. 
 
 They soon discover every newly-planted 
 corn-field. Down upon it they settle, cry- 
 ing " Caw, caw, caw," and almost every 
 little hill where corn lies buried has its 
 black-feathered thief, who scratches away 
 the dirt and gobbles down the grains of 
 corn, and, with another " Caw, caw, caw," 
 flies off to another spot. 
 
 If the young corn has begun to grow, 
 they seize the little shoot. in their strong 
 bills, tear it up by the roots and so get at 
 the sweet and juicy grains. In this way 
 many a promising corn-field has been 
 stripped and the farmer has had nothing 
 for his money spent and work done. 
 
 Crows don't like men. Too many crows 
 have been shot. They keep far away from 
 men and boys, lest some more of them 
 should get shot. And crows can't always 
 
 tell a man from a dressed-up post. Farmers 
 often fool the crows in this way : They make 
 dummy men and put them in the freshly- 
 planted corn-fields, and the suspicious crows 
 keep away from these just as they would 
 from real, live men. These dummies are 
 " scarecrows," and they do scare crows very 
 well, especially if their sleeves are so loose 
 that they flutter and flap in the wind. A 
 ragged scarecrow is the best of all, and the 
 raggeder the better, because he is in a flut- 
 ter all over and all the time. 
 
 Some scarecrows are too quiet and stiff. 
 They don't scare at all. Smart crows fly 
 over them and around them a few times 
 and then perch on top of them. This shows 
 the other crows there is no danger, so down 
 on the field they sweep and clean out its 
 corn in a little while. 
 
 Even a scarecrow must be a good one. 
 What do you think of the one in the pict- 
 ure? The old farmer is dressing it up 
 tastefully, isn't he? What do you suppose 
 the dog thinks of it ? He is trying whether 
 it is a real tramp or only a make-believe. 
 What do you suppose the crows think of 
 it? Some of them are flying above it and 
 looking on. 
 
 Will this scarecrow scare ? 
 
 A DOG AS 
 
 GUESTS at the leading hotel in Wat~ 
 kins, N. Y., are arrested on their 
 arrival by a large, handsome, well-fed dog. 
 This is Gibson, famed far and near as the 
 guide to Watkins Glen. Gibson is a re- 
 markable animal. 
 
 For eight years Gibson has made daily 
 
 A GUIDE. 
 
 trips to the glen, and has been petted and 
 caressed by thousands of women and chil- 
 dren, for Gibson is a very gallant dog and 
 a great admirer of the ladies, whom he is 
 particularly proud to pilot through the glen, 
 watching after their safety with great care. 
 The dog is an aristocratic fellow, too, 
 
THE SCARECROW. 
 
90 
 
 A DOG AS A GUIDE. 
 
 and only likes well-dressed people. He 
 will growl at the approach of a man in poor 
 clothes, and when escorting ladies he has 
 been known to spring on a workman who 
 passed, so zealous was he in 
 his protection of the fair tour- 
 ist ; but, ordinarily, Gibson is 
 one of the best-natured dogs 
 in the world, and will allow 
 ladies and children to pet him 
 all clay long, accepting their 
 attentions with quiet dignity. 
 
 He never plays with other 
 dogs about the street ; but 
 holds himself apart from all 
 canine companionship. A 
 curious trait is that, although 
 ever ready to guide a guest of 
 the hotel to the glen and through it, he 
 will never go with a resident of the village. 
 He seems to know tourists and pleasure- 
 seekers by instinct, and will come up to 
 them and draw their attention by a rub of 
 the nose or a touch of the paw. He seems 
 to know that the commercial traveller does 
 not want to visit the glen, and he makes no 
 attempt to cultivate his acquaintance. 
 
 If a visitor says to the dog, " Gibson, I 
 want to go to the glen," Gibson is at once 
 by his side, and even his master cannot call 
 him away when once a tourist has been 
 placed under his guidance. He will lead 
 the way to the glen as sedately as though 
 he knew the responsibility of his duty, and 
 will conduct him through unerringly, going 
 a few steps in advance and stopping now 
 
 and then as if to call attention to the 
 beauties of the scenery. 
 
 He will never desert any one whom he 
 sets out to escort, and if the visitor decides 
 
 to take a meal at the glen Gibson will wait 
 until he is ready to return. He is more 
 fond of ice cream than a school-girl, and 
 giving him some of this delicacy is the 
 surest way to win his favor. When he rides 
 he always sits upright on the seat of the 
 carriage by the side of the person in whose 
 company he has started out. 
 
 In going through the glen, if the tourist 
 gets on the wrong path, Gibson will at once 
 drop a few steps behind, and nothing can 
 induce him to go ahead again until the way 
 has been retraced and the path regained, 
 when he will bound ahead with every mani- 
 festation of pleasure. It is no unusual 
 thing for him to catch the person he is 
 with by the clothes and pull him the right 
 way. 
 
WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A FOX? 
 
 91 
 
 WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A FOX?- 
 
 BY J. R. STEWART. 
 
 SAM THOMPSON himself knew why 
 very well. The whole school knew* 
 too, and that was the reason why Sam had 
 a horror of the whole subject^ 
 
 Sam lived on a hilly farm in Western 
 Pennsylvania, and had peculiar opportunities 
 for catching woodchucks. Probably he had 
 captured as many of these animals as any 
 other boy who ever believed that his destiny 
 was simply to fetch the cows, carry in wood, 
 
 
 run on errands, and be driven around gen- 
 erally. 
 
 But what glory is there in catching a 
 woodchuck? They have little, short legs, 
 and are not particularly sly ; and Sam often 
 said it was "a poor lummix of a fellow" 
 
 who couldn't catch one on a fair race in an 
 open field. Anybody could find a wood- 
 chuck, and, if he tried, could catch it. Sam 
 himself had reduced the catching of them 
 to the dignity of a high art. He knew ex- 
 actly how to prepare a forked stick and pull 
 them out of a stone pile ; he could tell to a 
 bucketful how much water it would take to 
 drown one out of a hole in the ground ; 
 and could calculate with the exactness of 
 science how long it would take to start a 
 fire in a hollow tree and smoke one out. 
 Yet, to his mind, there was very little glory 
 in it; "for," said he, "anybody, \yho isn't a 
 dunce, ken catch a woodchuck ! " 
 
 He longed to catch a fox. The fox is sly 
 and swift of foot, and it would be a certifi- 
 cate of his skill to catch one. He knew the 
 Lindsay boys had traps set in a dozen 
 places to catch them, but he inwardly de-' 
 spised that way of doing it. His notion of 
 the business required the boy to chase the 
 fox to his lodge in the depths of the woods, 
 and then dig him out, drown him out, smoke 
 him out, or pull him out with a forked stick. 
 He couldn't see for the life of him why a 
 fox ought to be so smart that a good, shrewd 
 boy couldn't catch one. Yet he never had 
 caught one. In fact, there wasn't a boy in 
 all his acquaintance who ever had, except- 
 ing one of the Lindsay boys. He had 
 caught one in a trap, but that didn't prove 
 that the boy was smart. If it proved any- 
 thing it only proved that foxes are not so 
 sly as they have credit for being. 
 
 Sam had put in a tiresome Summer a 
 hot, oppressive one which he thought 
 would never wear itself out. The boys on 
 the hilly farms of Western Pennsylvania 
 
WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A FOX? 
 
 have a universal opinion that Summer never 
 glides off gently into Autumn, but that it 
 just wears out. Indeed, there seems to be 
 an opinion among them that it would never 
 even wear out if it could not wear the boys 
 out first. But then, in most conflicts, one 
 side has to yield sooner or later, and as the 
 boys wouldn't the Summer had to. 
 
 The Summer now referred to had been 
 for Sam a perpetual round of fetching the 
 cows, running on errands, carrying wood 
 and water, and doing things that nobody 
 
 else would do. He believed the men in 
 the fields had formed a conspiracy against 
 him, and just poured the water out. If 
 they didn't, how was it possible for so- few 
 men to drink so much water? A hundred 
 times he wished he was a steam-engine a 
 
 o 
 
 lightning-express. "Then," said he, "I 
 betchee they wouldn't always be sayin' : 
 4 What made you stay so long ? ' ' 
 
 But the Summer wore out at last, Autumn 
 came, and was now fast gliding into Winter. 
 The buckwheat was threshed, and Sam had 
 got the dust of it well out of his nose and 
 
 eyes and hair ; the potatoes were dug, and 
 he was through stooping over the basket to 
 pick them up; the turnips were pulled, and 
 his back was nearly well again ; and the 
 district school was about to begin for the 
 Winter term. 
 
 One night Mr. Thompson said to him : 
 " You see, Sam, school begins next Mon- 
 day. Now, I want you to take charge of 
 the calves and sheep at the ' lower barn,' 
 and carry in the wood, and that's all the 
 work you'll have to do. You can go to 
 school every day, and I want 
 you to study hard, for I want to 
 make a scholar of you." 
 
 This meant, of course, that 
 Sam was to learn as much as 
 possible in the three or four 
 months of the Winter school, 
 and then "just make the dust 
 fly " on the farm the rest of the 
 y^ar. 
 
 The " lower barn " stood in 
 jt; . such relation to Mr. 
 Tl'Ompson's house and the 
 school-house that Sam could 
 attend to the calves and sheep 
 on his way from school by 
 walking a little more than twice 
 the distance he would have to go if he went 
 directly home first. It was, therefore, ar- 
 ranged with the teacher that Sam should 
 
 o 
 
 always be excused about half an hpur be- 
 fore the school was dismissed for the day. 
 This enabled him to make the trip, attend 
 to his charge, and get home and carry in 
 the wood before dark. 
 
 Presently the ground received a beautiful 
 coat of snow, and the piercing days of 
 Winter came on. Soon Sam saw that the 
 snow about the " lower barn " was traversed 
 with little paths, and he discovered that they 
 
WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A 
 
 Vox 
 
 93 
 
 were made by rabbits. Before long he 
 found a few tracks of some other kind. He 
 got down on his hands and knees and ex- 
 amined them closely. Then he noticed that 
 they led off in a long, graceful line across 
 the meadow and into the woods beyond the 
 school-house. Could they be a fox's tracks? 
 
 If so, he was in a fair way to realize the 
 greatest ambition of his life. 
 
 Sam now remembered that, only a week 
 or two before, Lem Hindman had said: "I 
 tracked a fox this morning from our barn, 
 down through the pastur' field, across Rin- 
 ker's clearin', up over Greer's hill, and into 
 the rocks in Loudon's hollow." 
 
 " Why didn't you dig him out? " some of 
 the boys had asked. 
 
 "Dig him out?" said Lem. " It'd take 
 more men to dig a fox out of such a place 
 than it took to raise Christy's barn." 
 
 At any rate, Sam confided to Lem his 
 suspicions about the tracks, and, a day or 
 two afterwards, Lem and 
 Sam were both excused 
 from school at the same 
 hour. Whether Lem was 
 required to go home earlier 
 than usual no one knew 
 better than the two boys 
 themselves ; but before he 
 went Sam had his opinion 
 on the indications at the 
 " lower barn " expressed 
 tersely thus : 
 
 " Them's fox-tracks if 
 ever ther' was fox-tracks ! " 
 The situation of affairs 
 haviifg reached this con- 
 dition of reasonable cer- 
 tainty, Sam began, to be 
 nervous. He lay awake a 
 long time at night, and cal- 
 culated how many useful 
 things, such as powder, 
 gun-caps, knives, balls, fish- 
 hooks, and the like, he 
 could buy with the price 
 of a fox-skin, which, he 
 had found out, was then 
 worth about $2.50. He drew pictures of 
 foxes on his slate at school. One day he 
 drew the picture of a boy dragging a dead 
 fox over the snow by a string tied around 
 its neck. That evening he felt that the 
 crisis was coming. He went, without a 
 moment's delay, from the school-house to 
 the "lower barn," and examined the tracks 
 
94 
 
 WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A FOX? 
 
 for the one hundredth time since their 
 discovery. . 
 
 Now, just a little distance west of the 
 barn, there stood a large oak-tree which 
 had a hole on its south side, near the ground, 
 about large enough to receive a man's fist. 
 On the east side that is, the side next the 
 barn a little higher than Sam's head, was 
 a large hole that had been cut at some time 
 for the purpose of getting out a woodchuck. 
 Sam happened to look toward this tree and 
 there, in the big hole on the east side, he 
 saw a fox ! 
 
 There could be no possible doubt about 
 it. Such eyes as Sam's couldn't deceive a 
 boy who was on the hunt for a fox. Noth- 
 ing could be plainer than that it was a fox's 
 head. The ears stuck up exactly like a 
 fox's ears, and the body, of course, was 
 back in the hollow of the tree. " Oh, you 
 cunning rascal!" said Sam; "don't I wish 
 I had a gun ! " 
 
 With this he raised the pitchfork to his 
 shoulder, and sighted along the handle, imi- 
 tating what he would do if he only had a 
 gun. When he thought the aim was good 
 he shouted "bano-! " imafrinincr it to be the 
 
 o *_> o 
 
 discharge of a gun. At this sound the fox 
 took fright and dodged back into the hollow 
 of the tree. Then Sam ran, in breathless 
 anxiety, and stopped up both holes to make 
 his prisoner secure. 
 
 Next he ran home, palpitating at every 
 step, to get the old dog, Pipe, and the axe. 
 He was not a practiced chopper, but he felt 
 now that he could easily make a hole in one 
 of the giant trees of California, to get out 
 a fox. 
 
 He would have entered into a contract to 
 deliver the skin of that fox the next morn- 
 ing, or within two hours, for that matter; 
 and he was determined that nobody should 
 
 know a word about it till he threw down his 
 captive dead before the wondering eyes of 
 the whole family. 
 
 So he slipped quietly into the woodshed, 
 picked up the axe, and spoke to Pipe in a 
 whisper. Then he put a little piece of rope 
 in his pocket to tie around the fox's neck 
 so that he could drag him home on the 
 snow, as he had planned it in the picture 
 on his slate, and back he hastened to the 
 tree and prepared for a big triumph. 
 
 "Now," thought he, "if I only cut that 
 lower hole a little larger I can put a stick 
 up the hollow of the tree and punch the 
 fellow out at the big hole, and then I've got 
 him. Watch him now, Pipe, watch him ! " 
 And then he began to chop. 
 
 No soldier ever pounded more earnestly 
 at the gate of a walled city, or with a more 
 ambitious heart-throb. He wondered if all 
 oak-trees were so hard to chop. At last^ 
 just as the sky began to grow dusky with 
 the approach of night, he made the hole 
 large enough. He took the stick in his 
 hand and said : " Now, catch him, Pipe, 
 catch him ! " and then he thrust it up the 
 hollow of the tree. In an instant out came 
 the fox with a great flurry and bustle, and 
 sailed away over the meadow. Pipe made 
 the best speed he could after it, plunging 
 through drifts of snow that almost covered 
 him out of sight ; but a heavy old farm-dog 
 is a poor reliance in a fox-chase, especially 
 if the fox flies, as this one did. 
 
 For this fox was an oicl ! 
 
 Sam looked after in blank amazement as 
 it sailed away with the most provoking ease. 
 It seemed to him almost incredible that he 
 should have been so deceived. Then he 
 stuffed his hands in his breeches pockets 
 and glanced cautiously to see if anybody 
 was looking, and, as he did so, he made a 
 
MID-WINTER. 
 
96 
 
 WHY DIDN'T HE CATCH A FOX? 
 
 discovery, " My word ! " said he ; " there 
 isn't a track within a hundred feet of 
 this tree but what me and Pipe has 
 made!" 
 
 By this time he noticed that the calves 
 and sheep were calling for their supper. 
 As soon as he had fed them he trudged off 
 slowly toward home, and put the axe in the 
 woodshed more slyly than he had taken it 
 out. Supper was over and he had to eat 
 by himself in the kitchen. While he was 
 eating his mother said : 
 
 " Sam, you have never been so late home 
 before. What kept you ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing much," said Sam. " I won- 
 der if the's enough of wood in?" 
 
 But she was not to be put off in that way, 
 and she pressed the subject upon him till 
 finally he did what he had firmly resolved 
 not to do with any human being took her 
 into his confidence and told her all about 
 it. 
 
 Now it is a praiseworthy thing for a boy 
 to make a confidant of his mother. His 
 secrets are safer with her than with anyone 
 else ; but, somehow, the story got out. 
 
 The next morning, when Sam went to 
 school, a few minutes late, he thought he 
 could feel by the very atmosphere of the 
 place that they all knew it. He had scarcely 
 
 been seated five minutes when one of the 
 boys held up a copy of McGuffey's spelling- 
 book, and, pointing to the picture of an owl 
 in it, whispered to Sam, from behind his 
 hand, that it was a fox. The books that 
 day all seemed to be full of fresh informa- 
 tion about owls. Even the little toddlers 
 in the first reader drawled out the sentence:/ 
 "A brown owl sat all day on a beam in the ; 
 barn," and then the boys all looked at Sam. 
 He wished in his heart that owls would 
 always sit on beams, and not get into holes 
 in old hollow trees to bother boys. At re- 
 cess and at noon they teased him without 
 mercy, and, as he once afterwards expressed 
 it, made life almost a burden to him. 
 
 Now Sam was not one of your suspicious 
 fellows, and he wasn't apt to think harm of 
 anybody. Accordingly he intimated to his 
 mother that evening that he couldn't under- 
 stand how the rest of the family and the 
 boys at school came to know about his ex- 
 ploit of the evening before. She didn't 
 furnish any satisfactory explanation, but she 
 sympathized with him, and did what she 
 could to help him to make the best out of a 
 really very disagreeable situation. 
 
 " Why," she said, "did you never think, 
 Sam, that if there had happened to be a 
 wild-cat in the tree instead of an owl, it 
 might have killed the dog and then pounced 
 on you ? Then nobody knows what might 
 have happened. Why, there isn't a dog in 
 the whole neighborhood that could kill a 
 
 O 
 
 wild-cat ! " 
 
 In fact, she made such a terrible picture 
 out of the possibilities of the case, that he 
 almost persuaded himself that he was glad 
 the tree contained nothing but a harmless 
 owl. 
 
 But still he did want to catch a fox. 
 
THE STORY OF A HOE-CAKE. 
 
 97 
 
 THE STORY OF A HOE-CAKE. 
 
 BY MRS. MOLLIE MOORE DAVIS. 
 
 THEY were all sitting on the wide gal- 
 lery steps the other evening^between 
 sunset and dark. There were fireflies shin- 
 ing like stars already among the orange 
 
 trees and oleander bushes, and the soft wind 
 that blew up from the south was sweet with 
 the smell of roses and jessamines. I could 
 see the little group from where I sat, and 
 
 hear their voices in the hush of the closing 
 day. Jin, the little nurse, very black, very 
 woolly-headed, and very wise-looking, sat 
 on the upper step, with Alfred's fair, plump 
 little arms clasped abowt her neck as he 
 nestled in her lap. Dan, the six-year-old, 
 leaned against her knee, on one side, and 
 Maggie, round-eyed and chubby, cuddled 
 close to the other. She had been singing 
 one of those quaint little melodies, which 
 the black mammy in the South chants over 
 her dusky baby. It ran in this fashion: 
 
 " Snakey baked a hoe-cake, 
 Set a frog ter mind it, 
 Froggy got ter noddin, 
 Lizard come an' stole it : 
 O, bring back my hoe-cake, yer long-tailed Nanny!" 
 
 " Now, Jin," I heard Dan say, in a coax- 
 ing tone, after a little silence, " please tell us 
 a story." 
 
 "P'ease, D'sin, a 'tory," lisped Alfred, 
 like a faithful little echo. 
 
 "G'long, chillun!" cried Jin. "Didn't I 
 done tole you 'bout de Glass Slipper an' 
 dem angels whar stan' at de bed-poses ebry 
 night an' de hoss wid wings dat dey cotch 
 in a pig-pen, whar I heerd Miss May read 
 'bout tother night an' O, g'long, chillun, 
 I don't know nuffin mo'!" 
 
THE STORY OF A HOE-CAKE. 
 
 " Please, Jin," cooed Maggie. 
 " P'ease, D'sin." 
 
 "Well, den, if you mus, I'll tell you de true 
 tale 'bout dat song whar mammy larnt from 
 
 S 
 
 a Virginny .nigger, an' I knows de tale is 
 true, kase I made it myself, an' I were dar 7" 
 
 And here is the story that I heard Jin tell,* 
 while the little folks listened in grave de- 
 light: 
 
 " Well, one time ole Mis' Snaky she buil' 
 up a fire onto de harf in de kitchen, an' she 
 took up a fryin'-pan an' run a-ter dem little 
 snakeses, like mammy a-ter me n' Jim n' 
 Ephrum, an' she say: 'Git out'n here, dis 
 minnit, yer lazy, good-for-nothin' frazles. 
 I'se gwine ter make a hoe-cake, I is.' An' 
 dem young snakeses runned onder de bed, 
 an' in de grass like, an' old Mis' Snaky she 
 tuk de meal, an' de salt, an de cracklins, an 
 de bilin' water, jes like mammy do down 
 yonder to de cabin, an' she pat de hoe-cake 
 wid her han', jes so (here Jin tossed Alfred's 
 round little cheeks between her hands), an' 
 lef de print ob her fingers on de pone, an' 
 
 den she dab it onto de shebbel, whar she 
 done het in de ashes, an' bake it on one 
 side, den she turn it ober " 
 
 "Didn't she brush off the ashes, Jin?" 
 asked Maggie. 
 "Ashes, D'sin?" 
 "Brush off de ashes / Why, 
 chillun, don't you know a hoe- 
 cake ain't fitten to eat lessen 
 it got de ashes all on it ! Well, 
 den, ole Mis' Snaky she shuck 
 her fryin'-pan at dem youn^ 
 snakeses, whar all had dey fin- 
 gers in dey mouf, an' she say: 
 ' Now, you all ain't gwine ter 
 git none o' dis hoe-cake, kase 
 yer pappy gwine to come home 
 hongry from de cotton-patch.' 
 Sds she call up a nice young 
 Frog whar live in a puddle 
 'long side o' de cayage-house, 
 an' she sot him down for to 
 watch dat hoe-cake twell she come back. 
 Den she dress herself up, jes like mammy 
 do, an' fiance herself down to de baptism' 
 at de bayou. 
 
 " Bimeby, dat Prog he git powerful sleepy. 
 He slap hissef an' scratch he head, jes so 
 (here Jin slapped her own shoulders and 
 touseled up Dan's auburn curls). But 'twant 
 no use. He nod wusser 'n Uncle Jake a-ter 
 he been possum-hundn'! 
 
 " 'Bout dat time here come along Mis' 
 Lizard, dress up jes like dat house-gal, 
 Marthy-Ann, whar thinks hersef so smart, 
 an' whar yer ma gwine ter 'smiss some o' 
 dese days, carryin' a pay-so\ ober her head 
 an' switchin' her tail; like as if she's white 
 folks! Mis' Lizard she look all aroun' an' 
 she say to hersef, low like : ' Ki, I smdl hoe- 
 cake, I does ! Ef old Mis' Snaky wa'nt so 
 full of ebo> I'd ax her ter gib me some.' 
 
THE STORY OF A HOE-CAKE. 
 
 99 
 
 Den she spy de hoe-cake on de shebbel an' 
 she come in an' grab it, jes sc (here Jin 
 
 clutched Maggie by the shoulder, and Mag- 
 gie shivered with delighted terror). 
 
 " Den, laws, honey, how she fly! Well, 
 'zactly dat minnit, ole Mis' Snaky she come 
 home from de baptizin', singing ' Jes from de 
 
 fountain,' jes like mammy do, an' bringin* 
 Brudder Vance 'long wid her to git some o* 
 dat hoe-cake. When she see Marthy-Ann 
 Lizard dustin' off wid dat hoe-cake, she 
 scream a-ter her loud es she could : ' Brino- 
 
 o 
 
 back dat hoe-cake, yer long-tail Nanny ! ' 
 An' she so mad an' 'spirited "twell she shake 
 hersef all ober an' fall down in a fit. Dat's 
 all. An' I knows it, kase I was dar !" 
 
 " And what did the little snakeses' pappy 
 do for his supper when he come home from 
 the cotton-patch, Jin ? " inquired Dan, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Supper, D'sin ? " said Alfred. 
 
 " Now, g'long, chillun ! How in name o' 
 sense is I gwine ter git dis chile ter sleep, 
 ef yer keeps on axin' yer foolish questions. 
 Jes yer keep still now, 1 gwine ter sing ter 
 de baby." 
 
 And, as the stars came out, Jin sang in a 
 low, plaintive voice, and the little ones, even 
 the baby, chimed softly in : 
 " I'm jes from de fountain dat nebber runs dry." 
 
 CHARLEY'S OPINION OF THE BABY. 
 
 M 
 
 UZZER'S bought a baby, 
 
 Ittle bits of zing ; 
 Zink I mos could put him 
 
 Froo my rubber ring. 
 
 Aint he awful ugly ? 
 
 Aint he awful pink? 
 Jus come down from Heaven, 
 
 Dat's a fib, I zink. 
 
100 
 
 CHARLEY'S OPINION OF THE BABY. 
 
 Doctor told anozzer 
 Great big, awful lie ; 
 
 Nose aint out of joyent, 
 Dat aint why I cry. 
 
 Zink I ought to love him ! 
 
 No, I won't ! so zere ; 
 Nassy, crying baby, 
 
 Aint got any hair. 
 
 Send me off wiz Biddy 
 
 Evry single day ; 
 " Be a good boy, Charley; 
 Run away and play." 
 
 Dot all my nice kisses, 
 Dot my place in bed ; 
 
 Mean to take my drumstick 
 And beat him on ze head. 
 
 HELPING A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 THE Rev. Charles Kingsley was a very 
 distinguished English clergyman. He 
 was a great lover of the beautiful in nature, 
 whether as scenery, animals, insects, birds, 
 or flowers. One Sunday, while ^officiating 
 in his church at Chelsea, he was noticed to 
 stoop down behind the railing of the altar, 
 
 and to be engaged in catching some object, 
 which finally he carried to the vestry, and,, 
 returninor he concluded his service. It was 
 
 * O ' 
 
 afterwards found that a crippled butterfly 
 was on the floor, and he was afraid he would 
 harm it. To spare the little creature he took 
 so great pains to capture and remove it. 
 
THE LAZY PUSSY. A CHAPTER ON SOAP BUBBLES. 
 
 THE LAZY PUSSY. 
 
 BY PALMER COX. 
 
 THERE lives a good-for-nothing cat, 
 So lazy it appears, 
 That chirping birds can safely come 
 And light upon her ears. 
 
 And rats and mice can venture out 
 To nibble at her toes, 
 
 Or climb around and pull her tail, 
 And boldly scratch her nose. 
 
 Fine servants brush her silken coat 
 And give her cream for tea ; 
 
 Yet she's a good-for-nothing cat, 
 As all the world may see. 
 
 A CHAPTER ON SOAP-BUBBLES. 
 
 BY DANIEL C. BEARD. 
 
 SOAP-BUBBLE" is an uncouth, 
 inelegant name for such an ethereal 
 fairy sphere. It is such a common, every- 
 day sight to us, we seldom give it much at- 
 tention, or realize how wonderful and beau- 
 tiful is this fragile, transparent, liquid globe. 
 
 Its spherical form is typical of perfection, 
 and the ever-changing, prismatic colors of 
 its iridescent surface charm the eye. 
 
 It is like a beautiful dream ; we are en- 
 tranced while it lasts, but in an instant it 
 vanishes, and leaves nothing to mark its 
 
102 
 
 A CHAPTER ON SOAP-BUBBLES. 
 
 former existence excepting the memory of 
 its loveliness. 
 
 Few persons can stand by and watch 
 another blowing bubbles without being 
 seized with an uncontrollable desire to blow 
 one for themselves. There is a peculiar 
 charm or pleasure in the very act, which 
 few persons who have known it ever out- 
 grow. 
 
 In the accompanying illustration are 
 shown several kinds of soap-bubbles, and 
 a variety of ways of deriving amusement 
 from them. 
 
 It is generally known that' a bubble will 
 burst if it touch any hard or smooth surface, 
 but upon the carpet or a woolen cloth it 
 will roll or bounce merrily. 
 
 If you take advantage of this fact, you 
 can with a woolen cloth make bubbles 
 dance and fly around as lively as a juggler's 
 gilt balls, and you will be astonished to find 
 what apparent rough handling these fragile 
 bubbles will stand when you are careful not 
 to allow them to touch anything but the 
 woolen cloth. 
 
 It may be worth remarking that the 
 coarser the soap the brighter the bubbles 
 will be. The compound known as "soft 
 soap" is the best for the purpose. 
 
 One of the pictures shows how to trans- 
 form your soap-bubble into an aerial vapor- 
 balloon. 
 
 If you wish to try this pretty experiment, 
 procure a rubber tube, say a yard long, and 
 with an aperture small enough to require 
 considerable stretching to force it over the 
 gas-burner. After you have stretched one 
 end so as to fit tightly over the burner, wrap 
 the stem of a clay pipe with wet paper, and 
 push it into the other end of the tube, where 
 it must fit so as to allow no gas to escape. 
 Dip the bowl of your pipe in the suds and 
 
 turn the gas on ; the force of the gas will 
 be sufficient to blow your bubble for you, 
 and as the gas is lighter than the air, your 
 bubble, when freed from the pipe, will rap- 
 idly ascend, and never stop in its upward 
 course until it perishes. 
 
 Another group in our picture illustrates 
 how old Uncle Enos, an aged negro down 
 in Kentucky, used to amuse the children by 
 making smoke-bubbles. 
 
 Did you ever see smoke-bubbles? In 
 one the white-blue smoke, in beautiful 
 curves, will curl and circle under its crystal 
 shell. Another will possess a lovely opales- 
 cent pearly appearance, and if one be thrown 
 from the pipe while quite small and densely 
 filled with smoke, it will appear like an 
 opaque polished ball of milky whiteness. 
 It is always a great frolic for the children 
 when they catch Uncle Enos smoking his 
 corn-cob pipe. They gather around his 
 knee with their bowl of soap-suds and bub- 
 ble-pipe, and while the good-natured old 
 man takes a few lusty whiffs from his corn- 
 cob, and fills his capacious mouth with to- 
 bacco-smoke, the children dip their pipe in 
 the suds, start their bubble, and pass it to 
 Uncle Enos. All then stoop down and 
 watch the gradual growth of that wonderful 
 smoke-bubble ! and when " Dandy," the 
 door chases and catches one of these bub- 
 
 o 7 
 
 bles, how the children laugh to see the 
 astonished and injured look upon his face, 
 and what fun it is to see him sneeze and 
 rub his nose with his paw ! 
 
 The figure at the bottom, in the corner 
 
 o 
 
 of the illustration, shows you how to make 
 a giant-bubble. It is done by first covering 
 your hands well with soap-suds, then plac- 
 ing them together so as to form a cup, leav- 
 ing a small opening at the bottom. All 
 that is then necessary is to hold your mouth 
 
BLOWING SOAP-BUBBLES. 
 
104 
 
 A CHAPTER ON SOAP-BUBBLES. LITTLE DOT AND HKK 1>(><;. 
 
 about a foot from your hands and blow into 
 them. I have made bubbles in this way 
 twice the size of my head. These bubbles 
 are so large that they invariably burst upon 
 striking the floor, being unable to withstand 
 the concussion. 
 
 Although generally considered a trivial 
 
 amusement, only fit for young children, 
 blowing soap-bubbles has been an occupa- 
 tion appreciated and indulged in by great 
 philosophers and men of science, and won- 
 derful discoveries in optics and natural 
 philosophy have been made with only a 
 clay pipe and a bowl of soap-suds. 
 
 LITTLE DOT AND HER DOG. 
 
 LITTLE DOT had no brother or sister, Still little Dot was happy. Her woolly 
 
 and she lived in the country where playmate never taught her bad words or 
 
 no other little folks were very near, with acts, and generally he let her have her own 
 
 whom she could play. But Dot had a dog. way. His only lack was that he could not 
 
 He was big, and woolly, and kind. Dot talk, but Dot used to say, " He baby. He 
 
 would hug him, dress him up, make him sit det bid an' talk." Whether he ever did 
 
 on his haunches, try to make him hold a get big enough to talk, as little Dot 
 
 stick, try to make him talk, and do lots of seemed so confidently to expect, we very 
 
 things that no dog in the world could do. much doubt. 
 
HANS AND FRITZ. 
 
 105 
 
 HANS AND FRITZ. 
 
 BY CHARLES F. ADAMS. 
 
 law?" 
 
 HANS and Fritz were two Deutschers who A month had expired, when Hans, as 
 lived side by side, agreed, 
 
 Remote from the world, its deceit and its pride ; Paid back the amount, and from debt he was freed. 
 
 With their pretzels and beer the spare moments Says Fritz, " Now dot settles us." Hans replies, 
 
 were spent, " Yaw : 
 
 And the fruits of their labor were peace and Now who dakes dot baper accordings by 
 content. 
 
 Hans purchased a horse of a neighbor one 
 
 day, 
 And, lacking a part of the Geld as they 
 
 say 
 
 Made a call upon Fritz to solicit a loan 
 To help him to pay for his beautiful 
 
 roan. 
 
 Fritz kindly consented the money to 
 
 lend, 
 And gave the required amount to his 
 
 friend ; 
 Remarking his own simple language to 
 
 quote 
 " Berhaps it vas bedder ve make us a 
 
 note." 
 
 The note was drawn up in their primitive 
 
 way 
 " I Hans, gets from Fritz feefty tollars to- 
 
 day;" 
 When the question arose, the note being 
 
 made, 
 " Vich von holds dat baper until it vas 
 
 baid?" 
 
 " You geeps dot," says Fritz, " und den you vill " I geeps dot now, aind't it ? " says Fritz ; " den 
 
 know you see, 
 
 You owes me dot money." Says Hans, " Dot ish I alvays remempers you paid dot to me." 
 
 so : Says Hans, " Dot ish so : it vas now shust so 
 
 Dot makes me remempers I haf dot to bay, blain, 
 
 Und I prings you der note und der money some Dot I knows vot to do ven I porrows 
 
 day." again." 
 
106 
 
 BETTY AND THE BEAR. 
 
 BETTY AND THE BEAR. 
 
 I 
 
 N a pioneer's cabin out West, so they say, 
 A great big black grizzly trotted one day, 
 And seated himself on the hearth, and began 
 To lap the contents of a two-gallon pan 
 
 Of milk and potatoes an excellent meal 
 And then looked about to see what he could steal. 
 The lord of the mansion awoke from his sleep, 
 And, hearing a racket, he ventured to peep 
 Just out in the kitchen, to see what was there, 
 And was scared to behold a great grizzly bear. 
 
 So he screamed in alarm to his 
 
 " Thar's a bar in the kitching as big's a cow !" 
 
 "A what?" "Why, a bar!" "Well, murder him, 
 
 then!" 
 
 " Yes, Betty, I will, if you'll first venture in." 
 So Betty leaped up, and the poker she seized, 
 While her man shut the door, and against it he 
 
 squeezed. 
 
 As Betty then laid on the grizzly her blows, 
 
 Now on his forehead, and now on his nose, 
 
 Her man through the key-hole kept shouting 
 
 within, 
 
 " Well done, my brave Betty, now hit him agin, 
 Now a rap on the ribs, now a knock on the snout, 
 Now poke with the poker, and poke his eyes out." 
 So, with rapping and poking, poor Betty alone, 
 At last laid Sir Bruin as dead as a stone. 
 
 Now, when the old man saw the bear was no more, 
 He ventured to poke his nose out of the door, 
 And there was the grizzly, stretched on the floor. 
 Then off to the neighbors he hastened, to tell 
 All the wonderful things that that morning befell ; 
 
 And he published the marvellous story afar, 
 How " me and my Betty jist slaughtered a bar. 
 Oh, yes, come and see, all the neighbors hev sid it, 
 Come, see what we did, ME and Betty, r did it." 
 
DRESSING MARY ANN. 
 
 107 
 
 DRESSING MARY ANN. 
 
 BY MARY MAPES DODGE. 
 
 HE came to me one Christmas Day, 
 In paper, with a card to say : 
 
 2. 
 
 "From Santa Claus and Uncle Jolm " 
 And not a stitch the child had on ! 
 
 " I'll dress you ; never mind ! " said I, 
 
 " And brush your hair ; now, don't you cry.'* 
 
 4- 
 
 First I made her little hose, 
 And shaped them nicely at the toes. 
 
 Then I bought a pair of shoes 
 A lovely " dolly's number twos." 
 
 Next I made a petticoat ; 
 
 And put a chain around her throat. 
 
108 
 
 DRESSING MARY ANN. 
 
 7- 
 
 Then, when she shivered, I made haste, 
 And cut her out an underwaist. 
 
 Next I made a pretty dress, 
 
 It took me 'most a week, I guess. 
 
 10. 
 
 And then I named her Mary Ann, 
 And gave the dear a paper fan. 
 
 Next I made a velvet sacquc 
 That fitted nicely in the back. 
 
DRESSING MARY ANN. 
 
 109 
 
 II. 
 
 Then I trimmed a lovely hat 
 Oh, how sweet she looked in that! 
 
 12. 
 
 And dear, my sakes, that wasn't all 1 
 I bought her next a parasol ! 
 
 She looked so grand when she was dressed 
 You really never would have guessed 
 How very plain she seemed to be 
 The day when first she came to me. 
 
110 
 
 HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. 
 
 HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. 
 
 BY F. E. HAMILTON: 
 
 FREDDY LATHROP had a bad tooth. 
 A very bad tooth. It was a front 
 one, and it had ached and ached so that 
 poor Freddy had cried himself to sleep for 
 three nights, and dreamed that his head 
 was a wooden one, and the blacksmith was 
 driving- iron teeth into it. And now it had 
 
 o 
 
 a little hole just where the ache was ; and 
 to add to all the rest, it was loose. If he 
 bit an apple it hurt him ; if he drank a cup 
 of cold water it hurt him ; if he ate warm 
 pudding- at dinner it hurt him ; and even 
 when he tried to nibble a bit of candy it 
 would begin to ache again. I think nibbling 
 candy was what made all the trouble, but 
 anyway it was a very bad tooth ; and Uncle 
 Dick said it ought to be pulled. 
 
 "Oh, but that will hurt!" cried Freddy 
 drawing back. 
 
 " Pooh ! not a pinch ! " said Uncle Dick. 
 " The tooth is loose and it will be out so 
 quick that you won't know it! " 
 
 "No, sir! I know it will hurt," insisted 
 Freddy. " I saw Dick Dayton have his 
 tooth pulled at the dentist's, and he yelled, 
 I tell you ! " 
 
 " But that was a double tooth, Fred," 
 said sister May, " and it wasn't loose 
 either." 
 
 " Well, mine is twice as big as his was, 
 and it isn't loose but a little bit." 
 
 " Come," said Uncle Dick, " I'll give you 
 ten cents if you will let me take it out ! " 
 
 Ten cents ! that was just the price of the 
 red and white balls down at Atkins' store. 
 Freddy hesitated. 
 
 "And it will be all over in one minute," 
 urged Uncle Dick, who knew what was best 
 for the little boy ; " let me tie this linen 
 
 thread tight around the old acher and give 
 one jerk and it's out ! come ! " and he 
 took a long piece of thread from a spool 
 on the table, doubled it four times, twisted 
 and waxed it and made a little loop at the 
 end. " You'll hardly know it, Freddy, until 
 you see it dangling on this string." 
 
 Freddy thought of the ball and came 
 slowly forward; then he remembered Dick 
 Dayton's cries, and stopped. 
 
 "Will you give me the ten cents if I pull 
 it myself, Uncle Dick ? " he inquired. 
 
 "Yes, but it will hurt you more than if I 
 do it, still, I'll give you the money all the 
 same." 
 
 " And if I let you tie it on my tooth you 
 promise, honest and forever, not to pull 
 it?" 
 
 " Honest and forever," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Then you may tie it on," said Freddy ; 
 and he came and stood at his uncle's side. 
 
 While the fastening was being made 
 
HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. 
 
 Ill 
 
 good and strong so that it would not slip, a splendid way ; Annie Lyon has done it, 
 mamma entered the room. and she told me. It's perfectly sure to come 
 
 " Oh my brave little boy is going to have out ! " 
 his bad tooth out ! that's nice!" said she. The plan pleased the children, and to- 
 
 " I'm going to pull it myself, mamma," gether they made the thread fast to the 
 said Freddy, speaking sk>wly and carefully knob. But then Freddy's courage failed 
 so as not to loosen the thread, "and Uncle him. 
 Dick has promised to give me ten cents for 
 doing it." 
 
 Mamma laughed. 
 
 "When I have a tooth drawn," said she, 
 
 " Don't you jump at me, May, till I'm 
 ready," he said holding tight to the door. 
 " I know it's going to hurt awfully /" 
 
 "Oh, Fred! It wont hurt a bit ! " replied 
 "I have to pay for having it done, but you're the little girl. "Why it's so quick! It'll 
 going to get pay, are you ? " be as quick as lightning ! " 
 
 " O, Fred ! " cried May, suddenly drop- " May be so," returned Freddy, 
 ping her book, " I know a splendid way to 
 pull it, and you'll never know it at all ! 
 Come here and I'll show you." 
 
 The thread was finally secured about the 
 
 tooth, and Freddy now held it in his hand, 
 pulling it gently. He walked slowly over 
 to his sister. 
 
 but I 
 
 don't want lightning to strike me, I tell 
 you ! " 
 
 May was silent a moment. Then her 
 face cleared and she clapped her hands. 
 
 " Oh, I know ! I know ! Let's tie the 
 string to a chair, and you kick the chair 
 over. That'll do it ! " 
 
 "Well, we'll try it," said Freddy doubt- 
 fully; and so the thread was tied to the 
 chair. But it didn't look right to the 
 patient. 
 
 " S'pose the chair only falls half-way," 
 said he, "and pulls my tooth partly out! 
 My goodness ! that would be the very 
 baddest ! " And his eyes grew big and 
 brown. 
 
 "The very worst, you mean, Fred," said 
 May, proud of her grammar, " but I'll push 
 the chair way over for you." 
 
 " No, no," said the boy, " I believe I'll 
 pull it myself. Then I can do it when I've 
 a mind to." 
 
 " But you wont do it at all ! " cried his 
 " I'll show you," said she. "You tie this sister with disappointed looks, "you'll go 
 end to the door knob here, and stand back around all day with that old string hanging 
 as far as you can, and then I'll jump at you out of your mouth, and never pull your 
 and shout, and you'll jerk your head with- tooth at all ! and you wont get your ten 
 out thinking and out it will come ! That's cents either ! " 
 
112 
 
 HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. 
 
 "Pooh! Girls don't know!" returned 
 Freddy in a lordly tone. " Boys are brave ! 
 I will pull it out, but I'm going out in the 
 orchard because the sight of blood will 
 make you faint," and he turned to leave 
 the room. 
 
 May gazed after him in utter disgust for 
 a moment, and then breaking into a merry 
 laugh she called after him : 
 
 " Oh, Fred Lathrop ! You are afraid ! 
 What nonsense ! Girls never faint ! I am 
 going into the orchard, too, and see you pull 
 that tooth ! " And she darted after him. 
 
 When the children reached a shady spot 
 beneath the wide-spreading trees, a new 
 idea came to the little boy. 
 
 " Oh, now I've got the very thing, May," 
 he cried, joyfully, picking up a smooth red 
 apple from a low-hanging limb. " I know 
 how to do it now! I'll tie the thread around 
 this apple very strong and then we'll play 
 catch you go over there and I'll throw it 
 to you real hard, and away it will go and 
 the old tooth with it ! Isn't that a good 
 way ? " 
 
 "Splendid ! " returned May dancing mer- 
 rily about. " Let's go and get Jim to help 
 fasten the string." 
 
 And so away they went to the barn where 
 the hired man was working, and with his 
 assistance made the apple secure at the end 
 of the thread. Then they ran again to the 
 orchard. Having taken their places, May 
 held up her hands and said: 
 
 " Now throw it, FYed, and out it will 
 come ! Throw it hard ! " 
 
 Freddy drew back his arm. Then he 
 stopped. 
 
 " May, I believe it's going to ache," he 
 said. 
 
 " What, now ? " asked his sister. 
 
 " Yes, it feels like it," re- 
 plied the boy, earnestly. "I 
 shouldn't wonder if it ached 
 awfully before dinner time, 
 and may be it will be so 
 bad by night that I cannot 
 sleep ! " 
 
 May's face clouded. "Oh, 
 that's too bad ! " Then a 
 bright thought came. " But 
 if you pull it now, Fred, it 
 wont ache ! Throw the apple 
 and be rid of it ! " 
 
 "No," said Fred, "I 
 mustn't. It's very bad to pull a tooth when 
 it's just going to ache. After it's through 
 aching is the time." 
 
 " Oh, Fred Lathrop ! who said so ? " 
 "Well, I've heard it," returned the boy, 
 seating himself upon the grass, apple in 
 hand. " Anyway I'm going to wait and see 
 if it does ache." 
 
 "You're a regular coward!" cried May 
 emphatically, "and I know you wont pull 
 that tooth at all ! I'm going into the house, 
 so there, sir!" And forgeting her resolve 
 to remain until the operation was over, the 
 little lady turned away in disdain. 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed Freddy, throwing 
 
HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. 
 
 113 
 
 himself at length upon the grass. "You're 
 the one that's afraid. You're scared of the 
 blood ! Girls always are ! " 
 
 " But I certainly didn't pull it, May 
 honest and true. It's gone now, but it 
 wasn't gone when I went to sleep ! " And 
 
 But May was gone, and the only answer the boy's face was filled with astonishment, 
 to the boy's remark was the droning of the "Who could have done it," said May, 
 grasshoppers in the wheat stubble, and the equally puzzled. "I do believe it was Uncle 
 far away pipe of the quail in the corn. The Dick ! Let's go and ask him." 
 air was soft and warm, the wind still, the The children ran to the house. Mamma, 
 trees motionless. All nature seemed to be papa and Uncle Dick were already at the 
 at rest or asleep, and, lying there with eyes table. Hurrying into the room, Freddy told 
 closed, Freddy, too, at last fell asleep, his wonderful story, and called upon his 
 Whether he dreamed or not I do not know, uncle to confess. 
 
 A robin came and lit over his head and sang " You know you must have pulled it, 
 softly, and he might have dreamed of that ; for I didn't, and it was out when I awoke, 
 and bye-and-bye old Bess, the cow, who was You owe me the ten cents though, for 
 daintily picking at the tenderest 
 grasses in the orchard, came 
 slowly by and stopped to look 
 at him and wonder what kept 
 him so still, and he might have 
 dreamed of that. 
 
 But the robin flew away, and 
 old Bess, after standir g a mo- 
 ment close to the quiet by, 
 moved steadily on, and Freddy 
 still slept. Once he started a 
 little when the cow was near 
 
 him, but he did not wake up ; and it was you promised it even 
 not until May came out to find him and call 
 him to dinner that he opened his bright 
 brown eyes. 
 
 " Fred, dinner's all ready, and why, 
 you've pulled your tooth / " 
 
 Freddy sat upright in an instant. 
 
 " Pulled my tooth no ! " 
 
 " But it's gone ! It's gone ! " fairly 
 shrieked May. " You must have pulled it, 
 and you've forgotten about it because 
 you've been asleep ! Oh, Fred ! You are 
 
 it!" 
 
 if you pulled 
 
 Uncle Dick laughed and drew a shining 
 dime from his pocket. 
 
 "The money's your's, Fred, and fairly 
 earned, for the tooth is surely pulled ; but 
 my dear boy, I did not do it, for I haven't 
 seen you since you left here this morning." 
 
 Freddy looked from one to the other in 
 speechless amazement. Papa broke into a 
 hearty laugh. 
 
 "Well, well ! This is a strange affair! I 
 
 brave after all ! " And May threw her wish that my aching teeth might disappear 
 arms about her brother's neck and kissed in like manner while I sleep. Some good 
 him. fairy must have done it, Fred. But never 
 
114 
 
 HOW FREDDY'S TOOTH WAS PULLED. KATIE'S PIGEONS. 
 
 mind now sit down arid eat your dinner, 
 and we will find the unknown dentist bye- 
 and-bye you may be sure." 
 
 But papa was wrong. Dinner was eaten, 
 the long afternoon passed, and supper time 
 came, and the mystery was still unsolved. 
 But after tea, as the children sat with 
 mamma upon the porch, and the evening- 
 shadows, soft and brown, crept silently 
 toward them from the willows along the 
 creek, Jim came around the corner of the 
 house from the barn carrying in his hand a 
 bit of thread at the end of which hung the 
 missing tooth. 
 
 "See what I found dangling from old 
 Bess's mouth ! " said he, laughing. 
 
 " Fred," said Uncle Dick, "she must have 
 come along while you were asleep in the 
 orchard and eaten the apple which May tied 
 on for you, and so, unknown both to her- 
 self and to you, pulled your tooth as she 
 moved away. The string caught in her 
 mouth, and has hung there ever since." 
 
 And Freddy laughed until he almost cried 
 to think of old Bess as a dentist ; and the 
 next day he presented her with half a peck 
 of apples in payment for the service which 
 she had rendered him so kindly as he 
 slept. 
 
 And so it was that Freddy's tooth was 
 pulled. 
 
 KATIE'S PIGEONS. 
 
 COOK was a country girl. 
 When little, she loved to romp and 
 to run like her frisky shepherd dog, or her 
 little Shetland pony. Chickens and ducks 
 were far too quiet to interest her then. 
 But years ran by, and the romping Katie 
 grew to be a big girl ; indeed, the neat and 
 lady like ways into which she grew entitled 
 her to be called, as she soon was by every- 
 body, a model young lady. 
 
 Katie's tastes became quieter in these 
 days, and her interest turned especially to 
 pigeons. She bought books on the care of 
 these pretty birds, and her father indulged 
 her in buying all the fancy and rare kinds 
 wanted. She was specially pleased 
 with the varieties of color she could find. 
 From snow white to jet black she had her 
 , with spots and speckles, and rings ^nd 
 shading, and all sorts of pigeon-colors. So 
 in sizes and peculiar shapes they varied 
 
 most wonderfully, but, in two things all 
 Katie's pigeons were exactly alike : they 
 all knew her, and they all seemed really to 
 love her. They would come at her call, 
 flock about her feet, perch on her shoulder, 
 eat from her hand, put their pretty bills to 
 her lips, as if to return her kisses, and oh, 
 the pigeons seemed so happy, and Katie 
 seemed so happy, that all around the neigh- 
 borhood' she and her pigeons were talked 
 about. 
 
 How did it come that this happy state of 
 affairs existed? Because Katie loved her 
 pigeons, and took good care of them. She 
 learned how best to feed them, she saw 
 every day that they had fresh water and a 
 clean resting-place. If a bird was sick she 
 nursed it, and petted it, and cared for it, till 
 it became well. In short, Katie was so good 
 to her pigeons that they couldn't help loving 
 her with all their little hearts. 
 
116 
 
 BECKY'S TURKEY. 
 
 BECKY'S TURKEY. 
 
 BY M. E. N. HATHAWAY. 
 
 THE white turkey belonged to Becky. 
 If it had been black it would have 
 belonged to her brother Sam, but as it was 
 white he gave it to her. 
 
 Becky was only seven years old, so she 
 felt quite rich with her one turkey. The old 
 cat was hers, and of course she always 
 claimed all the kittens, but as nobody ever 
 
 really owned them, and when they were sold 
 he had the money for them. 
 
 Becky called one of the cows and several 
 sheep hers, but she did not expect to have 
 the money for them if they were sold. But 
 after Sam gave her the white turkey she 
 felt as though she was making a start in 
 business on her own account, and was wish- 
 
 wanted to buy kittens her live stock had 
 not been a source of profit to her. 
 
 Sam was fourteen, and was able to help 
 his father a great deal about the farm-work, 
 so he had rights and possessions in advance 
 of his young sister. Besides having a dog, 
 he was also the owner of turkeys, ducks 
 and pigeons, and lambs and calves. He 
 
 ing for the time to come when she should 
 have a hundred dollars in the bank, as Sam 
 had. She had to work and wait all summer 
 before there seemed any chance for her 
 wishes to come true. 
 
 In the spring, when the old turkey came 
 home from the swamp, where she would sit 
 in spite of everything Sam could do, she 
 
BECKY'S TURKEY. 
 
 117 
 
 brought a fine flock of sixteen young ones. 
 Fifteen of these were black and one was 
 white. The mother, with Sam's help, gave 
 them excellent care, and at first all went 
 well with them ; but when they were a few 
 weeks old it began to be noticed that the 
 black ones treated the white one unkindly. 
 They seemed to think it was some strange 
 creature unlike themselves that had in- 
 truded into their family, so they would peck 
 it and try to drive it away. It was a won- 
 der that it was never lost in the tall grass, 
 for it was always left far behind the others, 
 peeping piteously ; and often it did not get 
 enough to eat. 
 
 Becky was very sorry for the poor little 
 white turkey when she saw how much it had 
 to suffer, and Sam, thinking there was no 
 chance for its life unless it could be kept 
 away from its tormentors, offered to give it 
 to her. 
 
 She was very glad to take it, and she was 
 so kind to it and so attentive to all its 
 wants, that it soon began to grow and 
 thrive. Every morning she put it out of 
 doors in a little pen made of boards, where 
 it could have the air and sunshine, and at 
 night she never forgot to carry it into the 
 barn and put it in a safe corner. 
 
 After a while, when it had become larger 
 and needed more room, Becky thought she 
 would let it be at liberty to go with the 
 hens, but she soon saw that even they did 
 not like it and would try to frighten it off. 
 
 One day when the family were at dinner 
 a terrible screaming was heard among the 
 feathered flocks. Sam ran hastily out ex- 
 pecting to find a hawk after them, but when 
 he reached the barn he saw that the hens 
 were acting the part of hawks against the 
 white turkey. A number of them had 
 driven it into a place where it could not 
 
 escape, and they were pecking furiously at 
 it, screaming loudly together. If Sam had 
 not driven them away it would have been 
 killed. 
 
 Becky could not help crying when she 
 saw how badly her poor turkey had been 
 used. Its feathers had been pulled out and 
 broken, and its head was torn and bleeding, 
 and it was hardly able to walk. She held 
 it in her lap, and smoothed its ruffled wings, 
 and put some oil on its wounded head, and 
 did everything she could to make it feel 
 better. Then she put it into a basket on a 
 soft bed, and for several days carried the 
 basket on her arm wherever she went. 
 
 It was some time in recovering from its 
 hurts, but at length it was quite well again, 
 and seemed to have learned a lesson in 
 taking care of itself. For many weeks it 
 would not go near the barn, but staid by 
 the house with no company except Becky. 
 It would follow her all about and eat from 
 her hand, and appeared to be much attached 
 to her. Soon after this it began to grow 
 very fast, and by and by it was not afraid 
 of anything on the farm, and could defend 
 itself from the hens, and turkeys, too. 
 
 Then people noticed it, and would often 
 say that " Becky's turkey " was the largest 
 and finest one they had ever seen. Wasn't 
 this a triumph for Becky ? 
 
 But this was not all. When the great 
 cattle and poultry show came off in October, 
 Sam proposed to carry the white turkey for 
 exhibition, as he was going to take his Jersey 
 calf along. So he put it in a box with slats 
 in front, and put the box in the express- 
 wagon and drove off ahead, while his father, 
 mother and Becky came afterwards in the 
 buggy. 
 
 It was the most delightful day that Becky 
 had ever known. The weather was very 
 
118 
 
 IJKCKV'S TURKEY. 
 
 pleasant, and they found a large crowd of 
 people on the show-grounds when they went 
 in through the big gate-way, and everything 
 seemed bustling and lively. There was a 
 man near the entrance with a wagon-load 
 of peanuts, and he had a boy with him who 
 was baking them as fast as he could in a 
 small oven that was heated by a lamp. 
 Becky thought this was a funny sight be- 
 cause she had not yet seen anything else, 
 and her father bought a quart of nicely 
 baked ones for her. 
 
 Then they drove around to see the show. 
 There was so much to be seen that Becky's 
 head was turning in every direction. She 
 stopped quite a long time to look at a 
 monkey that was dressed in the costume 
 of a soldier. He would dance on a small 
 platform when his master told him to, and 
 then take off his cap and hold it towards 
 the children for money. Everybody laughed 
 except the monkey, but he wore a very 
 serious manner, as if he only cared to get 
 through with his task and be paid for it. 
 A good many people put pennies into the 
 queer little soldier's cap. Becky's father 
 put in a penny for her, and then they drove 
 on. 
 
 They met the man with pop-corn to sell, 
 and the man with whips, and the man with 
 balloons. Becky saw the beautiful red balls 
 flying so lightly in the air, and she shouted 
 with delight. She had never seen them 
 
 o 
 
 before, and oh! how she wanted one. Her 
 father said, " Nonsense, Becky ! " but when 
 they came near the man he asked the price 
 of them. 
 
 " Twenty-five cents apiece," replied the 
 man. 
 
 " We'll wait till towards night, and see if 
 they don't grow cheaper," said her father. 
 
 So Becky did not tease, but she remem- 
 
 bered the price of the balloons and kept 
 wishing to herself that they would grow 
 cheaper. 
 
 By and by they met Sam. He had fast- 
 ened his horse in a safe place, and now he 
 was around to see the sights, too. Becky 
 gave him some of her peanuts and told him 
 about the things she had seen. But he had 
 seen all that she had, and more, for he had 
 
 been into one of the curtained tents and 
 seen a learned pig and a two-headed calf. 
 But he told her that the monkey was a 
 great deal better show than these, and she 
 was glad to hear that, because she had liked 
 the monkey very much. 
 
 After they had eaten a lunch which they 
 had brought from home, Sam and his father 
 went to see the cattle and horses, and Becky 
 went with her mother into the hall to see 
 the things that were there. She did not 
 care to see all the bed-quilts, foot-mats and 
 gay tidies that were spread out on long 
 tables in the big, square room ; and the 
 people crowded so that she could hardly 
 find a place to step. But she was more 
 
BECKY'S TURKEY. 
 
 119 
 
 pleased when they went into another room 
 where the tables were covered with flowers, 
 fruits and vegetables. She thought it must 
 be a fine thing to be chosen to taste of these 
 delicious pears and peaches, and decide 
 which was best. Some women came along 
 and stopped her mother to talk about the 
 butter and bread and preserves, so that 
 Becky was quite tired by the time they 
 were ready to leave the hall. But when 
 they had got out again into the air she felt 
 better. 
 
 Pretty soon they saw Sam and his father 
 coming towards them in the buggy. 
 
 " Now, Becky," said her father, with a 
 smile, " I must take you and mother round 
 to see the poultry. Your turkey is for 
 show somewhere, you know." 
 
 Becky had really forgotten her turkey, 
 there had been so many other things to 
 interest her. So Sam jumped out of the 
 buggy and she and her mother got in, and 
 they drove here and there, in and out 
 
 among the carriages. At last they came 
 to an open place where there were some 
 Indian women. They were sitting on the 
 ground in front of a tent, and were weaving 
 baskets to sell to the people as they came 
 by. Becky had never seen any Indians 
 before. She had heard of them, and had 
 an idea that they were big men who always 
 went armed with bows and hatchets. She 
 had not thought how the women and chil- 
 dren looked. But these women seemed 
 harmless enough, and they made very 
 pretty baskets. One of them had a baby 
 which was wrapped up in a faded old shawl, 
 and when any one spoke to it, it laughed, 
 as Becky noticed, like all other babies. 
 
 Her mother bought one of the smaller 
 baskets for her, and then they drove on 
 again. By and by they came to that part 
 of the grounds where the poultry was 
 placed. Becky went past the long line of 
 cages with rare fowls in them. The 
 speckled hens with high caps on their 
 heads she admired most of all. She saw 
 that some of the cages had a red ribbon 
 fastened to them, and some had a blue 
 one. Her father told her that the com- 
 mittee who gave the premiums put these 
 ribbons on the cages ; and that the red was 
 for the first, or highest premium, and the 
 blue was for the second. 
 
 There were some rabbits, and some queer 
 little Guinea pigs and white mice, that Becky 
 tried to see ; but there were so many boys 
 pushing in front of her that she could not 
 look at them very well. 
 
 She was expecting every minute to see 
 her turkey, but she did not come to it till 
 they were nearly at the end of the line. 
 
 And then oh, what was that? 
 
 There was the red ribbon hanging from 
 its cage ! 
 
120 
 
 BECKY'S TURKEY. 
 
 " Now, what do you say, Becky ? " said 
 her father, laughing at the look on her 
 face. 
 
 But she did not know what to say, she 
 was so happy and so surprised. She had 
 not thought of getting anything and here 
 was the ribbon for the highest premium ! 
 
 " How glad I am ! How glad I am ! " 
 she cried, as soon as she could speak. 
 " And wont Sam be glad, too ? " 
 
 " Oh, he knows about it," said her father, 
 "but he wanted you to see it before any- 
 body told you. And his calf has taken a 
 blue ribbon premium ; so he's pretty well 
 satisfied." 
 
 " How nice that is ! And wasn't the 
 committee-man good to give us both one?" 
 she said ; and she felt very sorry for those 
 that did not have any ribbons on their 
 cages. 
 
 Mr. Richardson, one of their neighbors, 
 came along, and he wanted to know what 
 Becky said, and then Sam appeared, and he 
 wanted to know the same thing ; and it 
 seemed as though she never could get 
 through telling people how glad she was. 
 
 She was thoroughly happy, but she was 
 thoroughly tired, too, so when her mother 
 said it was time for them to go home she 
 was quite ready. 
 
 It was now towards night, and crowds of 
 people, dusty and weary, were hurrying 
 away. The pop-corn man's baskets were 
 empty, and the man who sold whips had 
 
 only one left. Becky did not see the 
 monkey anywhere, but somebody told her 
 that he grew so tired his master could not 
 make him dance another step, so he just 
 undressed him and put him to bed in a box 
 in one of the tents, to let him rest for the 
 next day. They met the man with balloons, 
 and, now that it was so late, he was willing 
 to take twelve cents for one. So Becky 
 rode home with the beautiful ball flying, 
 but she was careful and tied the string to 
 her wrist, for she would not have lost it 
 for anything. Sam came afterwards in 
 the express-wagon, bringing the calf and 
 the turkey. 
 
 Becky did not try to eat a bit of supper 
 that night, but went to bed before dark. 
 The wonderful day she had spent gave her 
 enough to talk about for a long time. Her 
 mind was now full of projects about the 
 turkeys she meant to raise and sell, and so 
 have money of her own ; but she gave up 
 the idea of saving it to put in the bank. 
 After going to the Fair she thought she 
 would rather spend it for pretty things. 
 
 When her premium came she told Sam 
 she was going to keep it in her father's 
 desk, and get more to put with it, and buy 
 a gold watch as soon as she could. 
 
 Sam laughed at this, but her father said : 
 " Well done, Becky ! Keep up good courage, 
 and stick to your plan, and by the time you 
 are old enough to wear a watch you'll have 
 the money for it, I've no doubt." 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 121 
 
 THK MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIKS. 
 
 BY F. BLAKE CROFTON. 
 
 IN this story the Major recounts an in- step, and not depending too much upon his 
 
 cident of his African travels, which is balancing powers. 
 
 just nothing at all compared with certain Chango's position was now far from 
 
 other matters and events which have come pleasant. It was useless to play the trick 
 
 to the knowledge of that remarkable man. well known to bear-hunters of enticing the 
 
 animal out to a point where the branch 
 
 MY negro gardener came to me one even- would yield beneath its great weight, for 
 ing in great alarm, and stated that his twin there was no higher branch within Chango's 
 sons, Mango and Chango, had taken out his reach, by catching which he could save him- 
 gun that morning, and had been missing self from a deadly fall thirty feet sheer, 
 ever since. I at once loaded my rifle, loosed Three more steps, and the bear would be 
 my Cuban blood-hound, and followed the upon him, or he would be upon the ground, 
 man to his hut. There I put the dog upon Brave as the boy was, his teeth chattered, 
 the boys' scent, following on horseback my- At this moment, Mango, nerved to hero- 
 self, ism by his brother's peril, moved rapidly 
 
 It turned out that the young scamps had from the opposite limb of the tree. Step- 
 gone on the trail of a large bear, though ping behind the bear, he grasped with one 
 they were only thirteen years old, and their hand a small higher bough, which extended 
 father had often warned them not to meddle to where he stood, but not to where his 
 with wild beasts. They began their adven- brother lay ; with the other hand, he seized 
 tu re by hunting the bear, but ended, as often the animal firmly by its stumpy tail. The 
 happens, in being hunted by the bear: for bear turned to punish his rash assailant; 
 Bruin had turned upon them, and chased but, angry as he was, he turned cautiously, 
 them so hard that they were fain to drop It was no easy task to right-about-face on a 
 the gun and take to a tree. branch which already had begun to tremble 
 
 It was a sycamore of peculiar shape, send- and sway beneath his weight, 
 ing forth from its stem many small, but only Chango was saved, for the bear evidently 
 
 two large, branches. These two were some had transferred his animosity to Mango, 
 
 thirty feet from the ground, and stretched whom he pursued, step by step, toward the 
 
 almost horizontally in opposite directions, extremity of the other limb. But Chango 
 
 They were as like each other as the twin was not the boy to leave his brother and 
 
 brothers themselves. Chango took refuge rescuer in the lurch. Waiting until the 
 
 on one of these, Mango on the other. enraged brute was well embarked upon 
 
 The bear hugged the tree till he had Mango's branch, he pulled its tail, as he 
 
 climbed as far as the fork. There he hesi- had seen his brother do before. Again 
 
 tated an instant, and then began to creep Bruin turned awkwardly, and resumed the 
 
 along the branch which supported Chango. interrupted chase of Chango. 
 The beast advanced slowly and gingerly, The twins continued their tactics with 
 
 sinking his claws into the bark at every success. Whenever the bear was well 
 
122 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 advanced on one limb, and dangerously 
 close to one twin, the other twin would sally 
 from the other limb and pull his tail. The 
 silly animal always would yield to his latest 
 impulse of wrath, and suffer himself to be 
 diverted from the enemy who was almost in 
 his clutches. 
 
 After two hours of disappointment, he 
 learned his mistake. He was now, for the 
 
 difficulty in seizing him, the terrified boy let 
 himself down and swung with his hands 
 from the bough. 
 
 He was hanging in suspense between two 
 frightful deaths. His heart was sinking, his 
 fingers were relaxing. 
 
 Then the deep baying of a hound struck 
 his ear, and his hands again closed firmly 
 on the branch. In a moment a blood-hound 
 
 tenth time, on Chango's branch, and very 
 near Chango. In vain Mango dragged at 
 his hinder extremity: he kept grimly on till 
 Mango, forced to choose between letting 
 go the brute's tail or the higher branch 
 which enabled him to -keep his feet, let go 
 the former. 
 
 Chango could now retreat no farther, and 
 he was hardly a yard beyond the bear's 
 reach. The branch was swaying more than 
 ever, and the beast seemed quite aware that 
 he might tax its strength too far. After a 
 pause, he advanced one of his fore feet a 
 quarter of a yard. To increase the bear's 
 
 and a horseman sprang through the under- 
 wood. 
 
 Chango held on like grim death held on 
 till he heard the sharp report of a rifle ring- 
 ing through the air ; held on till the falling 
 carcass of the bear passed before his eyes ; 
 held on till I had climbed the tree, crawled 
 along the branch, and, grasping his wearied 
 wrists, assisted him to get back to the fork 
 of the tree, and rest a bit. 
 
 If that bear only had understood in time 
 that a boy in the hand is worth two in the 
 bush, he might have lengthened his days 
 and gone down with honor to the grave ! 
 
THE EYES OF INSECTS. THE TIDY LITTLE LADY. 
 
 123 
 
 THE TIDY LITTLE LADY. 
 
 ELSIE was one of the neatest of all 
 neat little girls. When quite small 
 she loved to play house, and to play with 
 her dolls, but whenever she played, she 
 kept everything in perfect order. Her 
 doll's dresses were washed and ironed, 
 and laid away by Elsie, as carefully as 
 were her own by her loving mother. If 
 she played house with her dolls, the house 
 was always neat and clean. 
 
 As Elsie grew bigger she also grew more 
 and more neat and tidy. Her sewing, her 
 knitting, and her fancy work were always 
 of the very best kind. As a young lady 
 everything about her was so perfect that 
 you will enjoy a peep into Elsie's own 
 room, and at Elsie herself, as she stands 
 before her own bureau, arranging the things 
 in one of its drawers. See her in the 
 picture? Let every little girl imitate Elsie. 
 
 THE EYES OF INSECTS. 
 
 MANY of the tiny insects about us are 
 far more richly furnished with eyes 
 than are beasts and birds, or even men 
 themselves. The little spider-like insect 
 called a whirlwig, which skims about on the 
 surface of standing water, has two distinct 
 set's of eyes ; one for seeing in the air, these 
 being located on the upper part of the eye- 
 socket ; the other for seeing in the water, 
 these being placed below the others. These 
 two sets of eyes are separated from each 
 other by a thin division. 
 
 Ordinary spiders have six eyes, and some 
 of them have eight. The ugly centipede 
 has twenty. The eyes of bees, butterflies, 
 dragon-flies, and many other insects have 
 very many separate openings, so that each 
 of their eyes is really a cluster of small eyes. 
 
 No less than fourteen thousand of these 
 openings have been counted by the help of 
 the microscope in the eye of a dragon-fly. 
 
 One great naturalist, Leuwenhoek, by 
 name, arranged an eye from a dragon-fly 
 so that by using a microscope he could 
 look through a single one of these minute 
 openings, and found that he could see the 
 entire steeple of a church which stood seven 
 hundred and fifty feet from him, the steeple 
 being nearly three hundred feet high. He 
 could also see whether the door of a house, 
 at the same distance, was open or shut. 
 
 We understand what a splendid blessing 
 vision is to us, but how rich must be the 
 Creator who can lavish such elegant eyes 
 on such minute, and seemingly useless 
 insects ! 
 
1-24 
 
 MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB. 
 
 MARY HAD A LITTLK LAMB. 
 
 A DUTCHMAN S VERSION. 
 
 MARY haf got a leetle lambs already ; 
 Dose vool vos vite like shnow ; 
 Und cfery times dot Mary did vend oud, 
 Dot lambs vent also out, wid Mary. 
 
 Und did shoo der flies mit his tail off patiently 
 
 aboud 
 
 Until Mary did come also from dot school- 
 house oud. 
 
 Dot lambs dit follow Mary von day of der school- 
 house, 
 
 Vich vos obbosition to der rules of her school- 
 master; 
 ^Iso, vich it did caused dose schillen to smile out 
 
 loud, 
 
 Ven dey did saw dose lambs on der insides ov 
 der school-house. 
 
 Und so dot school-master dit kick der lambs gwick 
 
 oud ; 
 
 Likewise dot lambs dit loaf around on der out- 
 sides, 
 
 Und den dot lambs did run right away gwick to 
 
 Mary, 
 
 Und dit make his het gwick on Mary's arms, 
 Like he would said, " I don't was schared, 
 
 Mary would keep me from droubles ena- 
 how!" 
 
 " Vot vos der reason aboud it, of dot lambs und 
 
 Mary ? " 
 
 Dose schillen did ask it dot school-master; 
 "Veil, don'd you know it, dot Mary lofe dose 
 
 lambs already?" 
 Dot school-master did said. 
 
 ItP HILL HAKI) \VIIKK. 
 
THE LIFE OF SUNBEAM, A CHILD FAIRY. 
 
 125 
 
 DOWN HILL. JOLLY FUN. 
 
 THE LIFE OF SUNBEAM, A CHILD FAIRY. 
 
 li 
 
 ER name was Sunbeam, She had 
 lovely, waving, goldei> hair, and 
 bea tiful deep blue eyes, and such a cun- 
 ning little mouth ; and she was three inches 
 tall Perhaps you think that fairies have 
 no lessons to learn, but in this country they 
 had ro learn the language of the birds and 
 animals, so that they could talk with them. 
 Sunbeam lived in the hollow trunk of an old 
 tree. It was papered with the lightest green 
 leaves that could be found. The rooms were 
 separated by birch bark. 
 
 Every morning when Sunbeam arose from 
 her bed of apple blossoms, she had to learn 
 a lesson in the bird language ; but it was 
 not hard, for her mother went with her and 
 told her what they said. When her lesson 
 was done she sprang away to meet her play- 
 mates and oh ! what fun they had ! They 
 made a swing out of a vine, and almost flew 
 through the air. They sometimes jumped 
 on a robin's back and had a ride. They 
 played hide and seek in the birds' nests, 
 
 and in the spring picked open the buds 
 and when they were tired, sat on the dan- 
 delions, or on a horse chestnut leaf, or in a 
 full blown apple blossom. But if any one 
 came into the woods they scampered away 
 as fast as they could, for little fairies are 
 very shy. 
 
 The afternoon was much like the fore- 
 noon, but the evening was the pleasantest 
 time of all. Every pleasant night just be- 
 fore dark, Sunbeam's mother dressed her in 
 her apple-blossom dress, with two little lily- 
 of-the-valley bells fastened like tassels to 
 her green sash of grass blades. Her slip- 
 pers were made from blue violets, and her 
 hair was tied with the threads of blue for- 
 get-me-nots woven together. Her mother 
 and her father were dressed in light green. 
 A little after dark they started for their fairy 
 haunt with fire-flies for lanterns. The haunt 
 was in the thickest part of the forest; it 
 was covered with moss, and a brook flowed 
 through the centre of the enclosure. One 
 
126 
 
 THE LIFE OF SUNBEAM, A CHILD FAIRY. 
 
 hundred gentlemen fairies with their wives 
 and children were waiting here. Each had 
 a fire-fly lantern. 
 
 Very soon, from the brush wood, out 
 sprang two white mice, harnessed to a car- 
 riage made of dandelions, with the stems 
 so woven together that the flowers formed 
 the outside. The inside was lined with 
 white violets. In this chariot sat the queen 
 of the Forget-me-not fairies (for there are 
 different families of fairies). The queen 
 was dressed in a robe made of a deep red 
 tulip, and she had a sash of lilies of the 
 valley. Her black hair was fastened with 
 what looked like a pearl, but really was a 
 tiny drop of water crystalized. Beside her 
 rode her maids of honor, with dresses of 
 blue violets. The queen took her place 
 upon the throne, and around her stood her 
 maids of honor. The queen then began to 
 sing, and the fairies danced to the music. 
 This generally lasted till midnight. 
 
 But sometimes the fairies had their mid- 
 night sports. Off to the room where some 
 pretty child was sleeping they would fly in 
 
 the moonlight, and over the bed-clothes 
 they would dance so lightly, and sing so 
 sweetly, that the sleeping child would smile, 
 and next morning she would tell what beau- 
 tiful dreams she had, though fairy visitors, 
 and not common dreams, had made for her 
 this pleasure. In these joyous little excur- 
 sions Sunbeam often joined with the bigger 
 fairies, and she was never happier than 
 when romping with them on the bed of 
 some sleeping little girl. 
 
 You can easily imagine Sunbeam's life 
 through the summer and autumn ; but if 
 you think she hid in her house all winter, 
 you are mistaken. In the autumn the fa- 
 thers of the fairies had gathered the bright 
 colored leaves, ind the mothers had made 
 them into warm winter dresses and cloaks. 
 Sunbeam had a muff of swan's down. The 
 great sport in winter was the queen's ball, 
 to which all the fairies came. I wish I had 
 time to tell you all about it, for it was Sun- 
 beam's last appearance as a child fairy, as 
 the next spring she was tall enough to be a 
 full-grown fairy 
 
 THE GOOD A LITTLE FLOWER DID. 
 
 A LITTLE flowering plant was given to 
 a sick girl, and in trying to take care 
 of it, the family made some nice changes in 
 their way of living. First, they cleaned the 
 windows, that more licrht micrht come to its 
 
 o o 
 
 pretty leaves ; then, when not too cold, they 
 would open the window so that fresh air 
 might help the plant to grow strong ; and 
 thus purified their own lungs as well. 
 
 Next, the clean window made the rest of 
 the room look so untidy that they began to 
 wash the floor and walls, and arrange the 
 furniture more neatly. This led the father 
 
 of the family to try to mend a broken chair 
 or two, which kept him at home several 
 evenings. After the work was done he still 
 stayed at home instead of spending his 
 leisure hours at the bar-room ; and the 
 money thus saved went to buy comforts for 
 them all. And then as their home grew 
 attractive, the whole family loved it, and 
 loved each other better than ever before, 
 and grew healthier and happier with their 
 flowers. Thus the little flower brought a 
 moral as well as a physical blessing to 
 them all. 
 
128 
 
 A DEER HUNT. 
 
 A DEER HUNT. 
 
 BY REV. I. L. BEMAN. 
 
 A" LICK " is a salt spring, so called by 
 hunters because wild animals resort 
 to it and lick the briny ground. The writer 
 has seen the vicinity of such springs trodden 
 by the beasts of the forest as hard as a 
 cattle-yard. A singular trait of many wild 
 creatures is never to seek drink or salt by 
 daylight, instinct seeming to tell them that 
 safety requires such visits to be made at 
 night. 
 
 The incident I am about to relate occurred 
 in Ohio, in the autumn of 1812, while the 
 Indians were on the war path ; but as the 
 settlement where it happened was not so 
 far to the front as many others, it was not 
 thought to be in so great danger. How- 
 ever, every family was provided with arms, 
 and a log fort had been built as a defence 
 in case of need. 
 
 One day, just at dusk, Robert Page and 
 his son Jimmy, an athletic lad of sixteen, 
 posted themselves on a rude scaffolding 
 twenty or thirty feet from the ground, in an 
 enormous branching tree within short gun- 
 shot of a lick. From this perch a clear view 
 opened toward the lick, while on moonlight 
 nights the trodden space was distinctly 
 visible. Here they had often concealed 
 themselves to obtain venison for the family, 
 and, having fixed their guns in rest, re- 
 mained as silent as the trees around until 
 the game appeared. 
 
 On the night in question, several hours 
 passed while our hunters listened intently 
 for noises denoting the approach of game. 
 
 At last the boy's quick hearing detected 
 footsteps. Distant and faint at first, they 
 steadily drew nearer, but, at the same time, 
 they were so heavy and inelastic, unlike the 
 
 steps of wild animals, that the listeners 
 were mystified if not alarmed. On they 
 came, trampling through the woods, and as 
 they emerged into the moonlight in the 
 vacant spot near the spring, Mr. Page and 
 Jimmy counted a war party of sixteen In- 
 dians. Much to their surprise the red men 
 halted, and building a fire on the hard- 
 trodden ground, proceeded to broil venison, 
 roast nuts, and parch corn. While eating 
 they kept up an incessant jabbering, enough 
 of it being understood by Mr. Page to prove 
 that they were on the way to attack the set- 
 tlement at daybreak. 
 
 Of course, upon the discovery of this 
 bloody purpose, the two whites were over- 
 whelmed by their feelings, for the first house 
 in the settlement was their own, scarcely a 
 mile distant, where Mrs. Page and several 
 children would be easy victims. What 
 should be done ? To descend from their 
 covert and hurry on to give alarm seemed 
 impossible without being heard by the In- 
 dians. To fire on them would avail but 
 little, and would not save the settlement 
 from attack. 
 
 Much smothered whispering passed be- 
 tween father and son before a decision was 
 reached. Often they sighted their guns at 
 the Indians, almost resolved to begin the 
 fray at all hazards. But at length Mr. 
 Page, himself unfitted by rheumatism for 
 such an attempt, reluctantly consented to 
 Jimmy's urgency, and the brave lad under- 
 took the dangerous experiment of descend- 
 ing and flying to alarm the settlement. Re- 
 moving his heavy home-made boots and 
 leaving his gun, he began, with the stealth 
 of a cat, to make his way to the ground. 
 
WATCHING THE SAVAGES. 
 
 129 
 
130 
 
 A DEER HUNT. 
 
 The savages were not sixty feet distant, 
 and the least noise would reach their ears, 
 arouse their suspicions, and start them on a 
 search. But he was equal to the occasion, 
 and, after several minutes of intense listen- 
 ing, the father knew by a faint rustling that 
 his boy had reached the leaf-covered earth. 
 
 But now came a greater peril ; for one 
 can hardly walk in the woods without snap- 
 ping twigs and disturbing leaves. At the 
 foot of the slope, six or eight rods below, 
 ran a wide, shallow brook, and if he could 
 reach that in safety the rest of the trip 
 would be less difficult. Step by step he 
 felt the way with his naked feet, yet not 
 without several noises that caused the In- 
 dians to grunt, significantly, and the father 
 to tremble for the consequences. Once 
 there came such a sound from the direction 
 of the brook that two or three savages 
 sprang to their guns, but Mr. Page made a 
 noise like the snort of a frightened deer, 
 drawing their attention to a different course 
 and cause, and soon their suspicions sub- 
 sided. 
 
 At length Jimmy stepped into the cool 
 stream, and felt sure of the balance of his 
 task. Still he proceeded with the greatest 
 caution until he knew he was beyond the 
 hearing of the savages, when he fled like 
 the wind to warn the settlement. 
 
 Arriving at home, it took but a moment to 
 arouse the family, and start them for the block- 
 house, or fort. Then he sped on to other 
 cabins and gave the alarm, until, in a little 
 longer time than it takes to tell it, the whole 
 settlement was warned and flocking into the 
 
 o 
 
 fort. Men came armed and stern for the 
 fight, women with their tender babes and 
 children, frowsy-headed and half-clothed as 
 they had tumbled out of their trundle-beds. 
 Such alarms and night scenes on the bor- 
 
 ders are among the most thrilling chapters 
 in American history. 
 
 The plan of defence adopted by the set- 
 tlers on this occasion was an ambuscade. 
 All the women and children were committed 
 to the blockhouse under the care of half a 
 dozen of the elderly men, while the able- 
 bodied fighters concealed themselves in the 
 log house of Mr. Page, the first likely to be 
 attacked. Long before daybreak this plan 
 was ready for execution, the little log fort 
 being securely closed, the defenceless within 
 it, and some twenty trusty guns waiting in 
 the cabin to give the red men a welcome. 
 
 But we must return to the hunter in the 
 tree and the unsuspecting foe by the deer- 
 lick. 
 
 After Jimmy left, Mr. Page laid his plans 
 to descend as soon as the Indians started, 
 and, following in their rear, take a hand in 
 the fight which he expected to occur. Slow- 
 ly the night passed, the moonlight growing 
 fainter until he could no longer see the 
 savages. At length, when morning was 
 evidently near, he heard them take up the 
 line of march, their stealthy tread quickly 
 passing away toward the settlement. It was 
 but an instant's work for him to clamber 
 down and follow them, taking, however, a 
 somewhat different route, so as not to fall 
 into their hands if any of them should linger 
 on the way. 
 
 \Yhen he came to the clearing, a quarter 
 of a mile from his own house, he hid himself 
 and waited for circumstances to develop his 
 part in the fray. He had not long to wait. 
 Just as it became licrht enough to siqjit a 
 
 J O ^j O 
 
 gun, a musket shot, and then several to- 
 gether broke on the silence, but with such 
 a smothered sound that his practiced ear 
 knew that they were fired from within a 
 house, and, hence, were the guns of the 
 
A DEER HUNT. YAWCOB STRAUSS. 
 
 131 
 
 white men. At the same instant several 
 war-whoops burst on the air, but in a tone 
 indicating surprise and alarm. 
 
 These sounds explained the ambuscade 
 to Mr. Page, and knowing the Indian habit 
 of retreating singly and not in company 
 from a defeat, he kept sharp watch from 
 his hiding-place, and, in a few moments, saw 
 a warrior running toward the woods to es- 
 cape. With unerring aim he sent a bullet 
 after the fugitive. Hardly had he reloaded 
 when another similar target appeared, and 
 met the same fate. Other shots were heard 
 in the direction of the house, and soon a 
 third savage, hurrying toward the forest, 
 passed within range of our hunter's rifle 
 and was stopped forever. 
 
 At length a general silence prevailed, and 
 
 Mr. Page, leaving his hiding-place, crept 
 slyly toward the scene of the principal fight. 
 Ere long he met some of the neighbors, and 
 together they continued to search for the 
 savages. But it was found that they had 
 fled from the clearing, all except the slain, 
 eleven in number. Not a white person was 
 injured. 
 
 In the afternoon a burial trench was dug 
 on a little knoll on the Page farm, and the 
 bodies of the red men solemnly laid there- 
 in ; then a log fence was built about it, and 
 the little enclosure, still preserved, is known 
 to this day as " The Indian graveyard." 
 
 Jimmy died in the autumn of 1870, a 
 venerable, white-haired patriarch, and at 
 his own request was buried in the same 
 enclosure. 
 
 YAWCOB STRAUSS. 
 
 BY CHARLES F. ADAMS. 
 
 IHAF von funny leedle poy, 
 Vot gomes schust to mine knee ; 
 Der queerest chap, der Greatest rogue, 
 As efer you dit see. 
 
 He fills mine pipe mit Limburg cheese, 
 Dot vas der roughest chouse : 
 
 I'd dake dot vrom no oder poy 
 But leedle Yawcob Strauss. 
 
 He runs, und schumps, und schmashes dings 
 
 In all barts of der house : 
 But vot of dot? he vas mine son, 
 
 Mind leedle Yawcob Strauss. 
 
 He dakes der milk-ban for a dhrurn, 
 Und cuts mine cane in dwo, 
 
 To make der schticks to beat it mit,- 
 Mine cracios dot vas drue! 
 
 He get der measles und der mumbs 
 Und eferyding dot's oudt ; 
 
 He sbills mine glass off lager bier, 
 Foots schuff indo mine kraut. 
 
 I dinks mine bed vas schplit abart, 
 He kicks oup sooch a touse : 
 
 But nofer mind ; der poys vas few 
 Like dot young Yawcob Strauss. 
 
132 
 
 YAWCOB STRAUSS. 
 
 He asks me questions sooch as dese : 
 Who baints mine nose so red ? 
 
 Who vas it cut dot schmoodth blace oudt 
 Vrom der hair ubon mine hed ? 
 
 I somedimes dink I schall go vild 
 
 Mit sooch a grazy poy, 
 Und ish vonce more I gould haf rest, 
 
 Und beaceful dimes enshoy; 
 
 Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der lamp 
 
 Vene'er der glim I douse. 
 How gan I all dose dings eggsblain 
 
 To dot schmall Yawcob Strauss ? 
 
 But ven he vas ashleep in ped, 
 
 So guiet as a mouse, 
 I prays der Lord, " Dake anyding, 
 
 But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss." 
 
WHY GRAN'MAMMY DIDN'T LIKE POUND CAKE. 
 
 133 
 
 WHY GRAN'MAMMY DIDN'T LIKE POUND CAKE. 
 
 BY SHERWOOD BONNER. 
 
 THERE had been a birthday party at 
 our house, and we all went trooping- 
 over together to take gran'mammy some of 
 the good things. We were very fond of our 
 old colored mammy, who had petted, and 
 scolded, and nursed, and coddled yes, and 
 spanked us from the time we were born. 
 
 It nearly broke our hearts when she went 
 away from us ; but after the war her hus- 
 
 for a watermelon patch, he actually planted 
 cotton. Such airs as he put on over his 
 crop ! Simple Simon the Second, father 
 called him. 
 
 Regular Babes in the Woods he and 
 gran'mammy were, and we children used to 
 act the part of robins to them ; or ravens, 
 to be more exact, as we supplied them con- 
 stantly with food. And dear old gran'- 
 
 band, Uncle Simon, who had done nothing 
 for fifteen years but drive a pair of fat 
 coach horses, became suddenly ambitious. 
 He wanted to feel free, he said. So he left 
 his pretty cabin, with the roses growing 
 over it, on our place, and betook himself to 
 a dreadful little shanty in the woods ; and 
 here, on a piece of ground about big enough 
 
 mammy never grew too poor to add to the 
 happiness of her children. She told us 
 stones, mounted birds' wings for our hats, 
 and on great occasions made for us such 
 molasses candy as she alone could make. 
 
 Well, the day after the birthday, we piled 
 up a great basket and started off, carrying 
 it on a long pole, of which Ruth held one 
 
134 
 
 WHY GRAN'MAMMY DIDN'T LIKE POUND CAKE. 
 
 end and I the other. So we walked, sing- 
 ing, through the woods. Gran'mammy was 
 singing, too. Long before we reached her 
 house the swift wind bore to our ears these 
 very queer words, sung to a see-saw tune: 
 
 " You may back-\^\\& me jest as much as you please, 
 Jest giiiime dclircrin gra-ace, 
 Jest gim'me deliverin' grace ! 
 Oh, Lord, han' down my crown ! 
 Oh, Lord, han' do-o-ivn my crown!" 
 
 The song grew louder and nearer, and 
 there sat gran'mammy, rocking back and 
 forth in a great chair that Uncle Simon had 
 made for her, warranted not to break down 
 under her weight. For she was fat, gran'- 
 mammy was. 
 
 "Tell you what, I tips things I Stan's on !" 
 she used to say. 
 
 There was a legend in the family that 
 our grandfather had bought our black 
 mammy for her weight in silver dollars. 
 She was a slim young girl then. And she 
 was worth her weight in gold now ; but only 
 a Bonanza or a Golconda man could have 
 bought her. 
 
 "Lor, chillern!" she said, kissing us all 
 round, " I'se powerful glad ter see you. 
 'Pears like I git lonesome wid on'y de birds 
 for company." 
 
 " We've brought you some of my birth- 
 day, gran'mammy," said Sam, with an air of 
 importance. 
 
 " Bless yo' sweet soul, honey, you never 
 forgits yo' ole mammy dat / know." 
 
 We unpacked the basket. Turkey and 
 jelly and light bread and wafers gray with 
 sugar aud rolled round in the most delicious 
 
 o 
 
 curves ; fruit-cake, and cup-cake, and a 
 whole half of a pound-cake loaf. 
 
 "Why, chillern!" said gran'mammy, with 
 a start, " don't you know dat I don't love 
 poun'-cake ? ' 
 
 'Don't like pound-cake?" cried Sam, his 
 eyes distended ; " well, I do ! " And he took 
 a great bite out of the loaf in an absent- 
 minded sort of way. 
 
 "Why don't you ?" said Ruth. 
 
 " I'll tell you why, chillern an' let it be a 
 warnin' ter you." 
 
 So saying, gran'mammy lit a cob-pipe, 
 settled herself comfortably, and began : 
 
 " Long time ago, my blessin's, I was a 
 little gal. An' I wus a limb I wus ! Ole 
 Mis' she had a awful time wid me. 'Feared 
 as if imps was in me. Howsomever, she 
 kep a b'arin' wid me, an' a b'arin' wid me, 
 till de time come when she couldn't bar no 
 mo . An' de way dat happened wus dis. 
 Dar was a young lady in our neighborhood 
 who went and got married a pretty Miss 
 she was ! And Ole Mis' had a keard to de 
 weddin'. Well, now, as luck would have it, 
 she was too sick de very day of de weddin' 
 she was bilious I recollec' she was jes* 
 de color of spiled cream. So she couldn't 
 go. An' she sent me : for I was her little 
 maid wid a gret basket of japonicas an' 
 vi'lets, an' geraniums. It was winter an' 
 flowers wus skeerce, so dat wus a very 
 pretty gif* for de young lady dat wus gwine 
 to marry. 
 
 " Bless you, chillern ! didn't I enjoy my- 
 self! I rid in a waggin to de weddin' it 
 was a matter of ten miles or so in de 
 country. An' when we got dar all de 
 groun's wus lighted wid pine knots, burnin' 
 in forked sticks high as a man's head. 
 Nothin' like dat beauty and gorgeousness 
 in dese days ! Pooh ! if you'd seen one 
 weddin' like dat o' Miss Josephine Dan- 
 bridge you wouldn't roll off a log to look at 
 one now ! 
 
 " Miss Josephine, she was white an' shin- 
 in' an' smilin' as an angel ; but when she 
 
WHY GRAN' MAMMY DIDN'T LIKE POUND CAKE. 
 
 135 
 
 led off de dance she blushed like a sweet 
 rose. An' seek a weddin' supper ! I ate as 
 much as I could for de excitement but I 
 was mo' eager wid my eyes dan my mouth! 
 
 " De nex' day Miss Josephine wus a-gwine 
 ter her husban's house in de nex' county 
 for de infair ever heerd of an infair, chil- 
 lern? Well, dat's what dey call de gret 
 celebration give by the young man's folks 
 to de bridle an' de broom " 
 
 " De bridle an' de broom?" echod Sam 
 vaguely. 
 
 " In course, boy. What else should I call 
 de young pa'r?" said gran'mammy with 
 severity. 
 
 " Well, I staid all night ; an' de nex' day, 
 in all de hurry of gittin' off, Miss Josephine 
 writ a note to my ole Mis' a-thankin' her 
 fur de flowers an' a-sendin' her a big slice 
 o' de weddin'-cake. An' den says she 
 * Why ma ! here's a poun'-cake dat hasn't 
 been cut. S'pose we send it to Miss Rout?' 
 dat was my Mis'. 
 
 " So, honeys, dey done up dat poun'-cake 
 in silver paper an' put it in a basket an' 
 give it to me wid dese words : 
 
 "'Take dat to your mistis, Marian' 
 
 " ' Yes, ma'am,' says I 
 
 "But lor, chillern, I wus a limb! 
 
 " I tell you, I smelt dat poun'-cake all de 
 way home, and a v'ice so close to my ear as 
 a flower in a young lady's hair, kep' sayin': 
 
 " ' Ria, you little goose, jist eat dat cake. 
 You'll never hev sech anudder chance.' 
 
 " To be short wid it, chillern, I listened to 
 de v'ice, an' when I got home I handed de 
 slice o' weddin'-cake to ole Mis' an' tole her 
 all about de weddin', lookin' as innercent 
 as a lily; an' all de time dar wus dat poun'- 
 cake hid away under de waggin-seat. 
 
 "Jes' as soon as night fell, I stole up de 
 stairs to ole Mis's room, and I snuggled 
 
 under de bed and / ate de poun'-cake ! De 
 fust bite tasted as if all de stars had turned 
 to cake an' was a-meltin' in my mouth ; but 
 to tell you de trufe an' Sam, you listen I 
 had to sort o' push de las' piece down. 
 
 " But eat it I did to de las' crumb. Den 
 I laid down, kind o' composed, an' went ter 
 sleep. I was waked up by de mos' awful 
 kind o' gripin' pain struck me somewhar 
 inside like lightnin' an' I jumped up an' 
 screamed. Ole Mis' she came a-runnin' up 
 seventy years ole do' she wus an' says: 
 
 " ' W T hat's de matter you little screech- 
 owl ? ' she always called me by some pet 
 name, ole Mis' did. 
 
 "An' seein' me all doubled up wid pain, 
 she rings de bell, an' she says to little 
 weakly Partridge who answered it, ' Tell 
 Uncle Dowdy to git on de fastest mule an' 
 go fer de doctor, quick ! ' 
 
 " Den she turned to me a-squirmin' an' 
 a-howlin' like a baby on de flo', and she says 
 ter me, as still an' terrible as de pestilence : 
 '"What has you been eatin', Mariar?' 
 
 " It wasn't no use tryin' ter lie, my chillern 
 so I says weak-like 
 
 " ' I ate a whole poun' cake dat Miss 
 Josephine sent ter you.' 
 
 " ' I shall whip you for dat falsehood/ 
 says ole Mis', ' as soon as you is recovered. 
 It is impossible dat a chile of your age 
 could eat a whole poun'-cake. You might 
 as well talk of a toad swallowin' a cat.' 
 
 " Den I gave anudder screech, fur it 
 seemed as if dat cake had turned to a cat 
 an' wus clawin' me. 
 
 "Arter about a million years o' sufferin' 
 de doctor got dar ; and he says : 
 
 " ' Seems as if dis chile's stomach is been 
 over-loaded.' 
 
 " I jes' rolled my eyes up at him. I was 
 tu fur gone ter speak. 
 
136 
 
 WHY GRAN'MAMMA DIDN'T LIKE POUND CAKE. A CHRISTMAS TRAGEDY. 
 
 "Well, he wrestled wid me all night, an' I'm a miserbel sinner ; but if you will try 
 
 chillern, an' de nex' mornin' dar I wus, me agin, I'll try to do a better part.' 
 
 gaspin' like a fish out of water, but saved. " And den, honeys, she jes' knelt down 
 
 Ole Mis', she handed de doctor somethin' wid her little white han' on my head, and 
 
 folded up in an envelope, an' he went a-sail- she prayed fur me soft an' solemn, 
 
 in' off. Den she looked at me. I was "Well, I ain't never wanted to steal 
 
 powerful weak, so I went off kind o' faint- nothin' sence dat hour; an' I neber has 
 
 like. been able to look at a piece o' poun'-cake." 
 
 "She nussed me like a baby, an' when I Silence. 
 
 got well she neber said one word ter me, "Anyhow," said Sam, "pound-cake is 
 
 excep' jes dis : good." 
 
 "'Mariar, you needn't tu come tu my " Yes, my boy," said our dear old grand- 
 mammy, "but many a good thing is turned 
 to poison if you take it on de sly you's 
 
 Sunday-school class termorrer.' 
 
 " I bu'st out a-cryin' at dat, an' I said : 
 
 "'Mis' Jane, I owns up. I ate de cake, mighty safe to pend on dat ar trufe! " 
 
 A CHRISTMAS TRAGKDY: IN THREK ACTS. 
 
 . 
 
 :? 
 
THE FOX, THE GOAT, AND THE CARROTS. 
 
 137 
 
 THE FOX, THE GOAT, AND THE CARROTS. 
 
 A FOX and a goat were walking to- 
 gether on the main road. After 
 having gone a few yards, they saw a bag 
 lying at the side of the hedge. 
 
 " I wonder what there is in 
 that bag," said the goat. 
 
 "I'll see," said the fox, and, 
 putting his mouth to the string 
 with which the bag was tied, he 
 bit it through in a moment. 
 
 o 
 
 Then, seizing the bottom of the 
 bag with his teeth, he shook it, 
 and a bunch of the most splen- 
 did carrots rolled out. 
 
 "These are for me," said the 
 fox, " for I have opened the 
 bag." 
 
 " You sha'n't touch them," said the goat, 
 "else I'll butt you till your ribs crack." 
 
 The fox looked at the big horns of the 
 goat, and showed his teeth. The goat, see- 
 ing the fox's teeth, thought within himself, 
 " I don't like those sharp fellows." And the 
 
 So they stood looking at each other, 
 but neither had the courage to touch the 
 carrots. 
 
 At length the fox said 
 
 fox thought, " I don't believe my ribs would 
 stand those horns." 
 
 " What's the use of our standing here ?. 
 Let us see which of us is the stronger. 
 Yonder are two heaps of stones. Take 
 you one of them, and I'll take the other. 
 He who first throws down his heap shall 
 have the carrots." 
 
 " Very well," said the goat. 
 
 So they went each to his heap. 
 
 The goat raised himself on his hind legs, 
 and butted with his horns with all his might, 
 but it was of no use. 
 
 "You didn't hit hard enough," said the 
 fox. "Take a run at it." 
 
 The goat went a few steps back, and ran 
 at the heap as hard as he could. Crack ! 
 crack ! and both his horns fell down to the 
 ground. 
 
 When the fox saw this he began to dance 
 upon his hind legs. 
 
 "Ah, my dear fellow!" cried he. "The 
 carrots are now mine !" 
 
 " Not yet," said the goat. "You haven't 
 thrown down your heap. And if you touch 
 the carrots before you do so, I'll fight you 
 with the stumps that are left on my head." 
 
138 
 
 THE FOX, THE GOAT, AND THE CARROTS. 
 
 The fox looked at the goat's stumps, and, towards the bag. But, oh, dear ! there was 
 thinking that one of them was very sharp, neither bag nor carrots, for, during their 
 and might rip up his sides, said, " Very well, quarrel, a herd-boy had passed by and 
 
 picked up both. 
 
 " Alas ! " cried the goat, " what fools we 
 are ! Had we divided the spoil in peace, I 
 
 I'll throw down my heap ; it's a trifle to 
 me." 
 
 The fox began digging round with his fore- 
 feet, and soon there was a large hole in the 
 ground. The heap then tottered and fell ; 
 but, holloa ! it fell on the fox, and broke his 
 left hind-leg. 
 
 "Jump at the carrots now," said the goat, 
 maliciously. " You are most welcome to 
 them." 
 
 "I can't," sighed the fox. "Oh, my poor would have saved my horns, you your leg, 
 leg ! You may take the carrots." and each of us would have had carrots 
 
 "All right," said the goat, as he ran enough." 
 
 HOW A CHUB TOSSED A TERRAPIN. 
 
 IN the clear transparent waters of the 
 Elizabeth River, near Norfolk, Virginia, 
 some gentlemen, who were fishing, saw a 
 queer battle under water. A female chub 
 had deposited her spawn in a secluded nook 
 between some big stones, when a small but 
 active terrapin was seen approaching, and 
 the fish fled from his presence. A moment 
 later the terrapin was eagerly devouring the 
 spawn. 
 
 Just then a male chub caught sight of the 
 
 intruder. Approaching slowly, the fish 
 caught the terrapin by the tail, backed 
 rapidly through the water some eight or 
 ten feet, and then, by a quick, forceful mo- 
 tion, threw the terrapin clear of the water, 
 and among the stones along the shore, 
 where, falling on his back, the terrapin was 
 helpless, while the victorious chub hunted 
 up his lady friend, and rejoiced with her 
 over what had been done to the thieving 
 terrapin. 
 
THE BAREFOOT BOY. 
 
 139 
 
 THE BAREFOOT BOY. 
 
 BY JOHN G. WHITTIER. 
 
 T3LESSINGS on thee, little man, 
 -L) Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! 
 With thy turned up pantaloons, 
 And thy merry whistled tunes ; 
 With thy red lip, redder still 
 Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; 
 With the sunshine on thy face, 
 Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace ! 
 From my heart I give thee joy ; 
 I was once a barefoot boy. 
 Prince thou art the grown-up man, 
 Only is republican. 
 Let the million-dollared ride ! 
 Barefoot, trudging at his side, 
 Thou hast more than he can buy, 
 In the reach of ear and eye : 
 Outward sunshine, inward joy, 
 Blessings on the barefoot boy. 
 
 Oh ! for boyhood's painless play, 
 Sleep that wakes in laughing day, 
 Health that mocks the doctor's rules, 
 Knowledge never learned of schools : 
 Of the wild bee's morning chase, 
 Of the wild flower's time and place, 
 Flight of fowl and habitude 
 Of the tenants of the wood ; 
 How the tortoise bears his shell, 
 How the woodchuck digs his cell, 
 And the ground-mole sinks his well; 
 How the robin feeds her young, 
 How the oriole's nest is hung ; 
 Where the whitest lilies blow, 
 Where the freshest berries grow, 
 Where the ground-nut trails its vine, 
 Where the wood-grape's clusters shine; 
 Of the black wasp's cunning way, 
 Mason of his walls of clay, 
 And the architectural plans 
 Of gray hornet artisans ! 
 For, eschewing books and tasks, 
 Nature answers all he asks ; 
 Hand in hand with her he walks, 
 
 Part and parcel of her joy, 
 Blessings on the barefoot boy. 
 
 Oh for boyhood's time of June, 
 Crowding years in one brief moon, 
 When all things I heard or saw, 
 Me, their master, waited for! 
 I was rich in flowers and trees, 
 Humming-birds and honey-bees; 
 For my sport the squirrel played, 
 Plied the snouted mole his spade; 
 For my taste the blackberry cone 
 Purpled over hedge and stone : 
 Laughed the brook for my delight, 
 Through the day, and through the night; 
 Whispering at the garden wall, 
 Talked with me from fall to fall : 
 Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, 
 Mine the walnut slopes beyond, 
 Mine on bending orchard trees, 
 Apples of Hesperides ! 
 Still, as my horizon grew, 
 Larger grew my riches too, 
 All the world I saw or knew 
 Seemed a complex Chinese toy, 
 Fashioned for a barefoot boy ! 
 
 Oh, for festal dainties spread, 
 Like my bowl of milk and bread, 
 Pewter spoon and bowl of wood, 
 On the door-stone, gray and rude ! 
 O'er me like a regal tent, 
 Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, 
 Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, 
 Looped in many a wind-swung fold; 
 While for music came the play 
 Of the pied frogs' orchestra ; 
 And, to light the noisy choir, 
 Lit the fly his lamp of fire. 
 I was monarch ; pomp and joy 
 Waited on the barefoot boy ! 
 
140 
 
 THE BAREFOOT BOY. THE FIRST PARTY. 
 
 Cheerily, then, my little man ! 
 Live and laugh as boyhood can ; 
 Though the flinty slopes be hard, 
 Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, 
 Every morn shall lead thee through 
 Fresh baptisms of the dew; 
 Every evening from thy feet 
 Shall the cool wind kiss the heat; 
 All too soon these feet must hide 
 In the prison cells of pride, 
 
 Lose the freedom of the sod, 
 Like a colt's for work be shod, 
 Made to treak the mills of toil, 
 Up and down in ceaseless moil, 
 Happy if their track be found 
 Never on forbidden ground ; 
 Happy if they sink not in 
 Quick and treacherous sands of sin. 
 Ah ! that thou couldst know thy joy, 
 Ere it passes, barefoot boy ! 
 
 THE FIRST PARTY. 
 
 BY JOSEPHINE POLLARD. 
 
 M 
 
 IISS Annabel McCarty 
 
 Was invited to a party, 
 " Your company from four to ten," the invitation 
 
 said : 
 
 And the maiden was delighted 
 To think she was invited 
 
 To sit up till the hour when the big folks went to 
 bed. 
 
 The crazy little midget 
 Ran and told the news to Bridget, 
 Who clapped her hands, and danced a jig, to An- 
 nabel's delight, 
 
 And said, with accents hearty, 
 " 'Twill be the swatest party 
 
 If ye're there yerself, me darlint ! I wish it was 
 to-night ! " 
 
 The great display of frilling 
 Was positively killing; 
 And, oh, the little booties ! and the lovely sash so 
 
 wide ! 
 
 And the gloves so very cunning 
 She was altogether " stunning," 
 And the whole McCarty family regarded her with 
 pride. 
 
 They gave minute directions, 
 With copious interjections 
 
 Of "sit up straight!" and don't do this or that 
 'twould be absurd ! " 
 
 Miss 
 
 But, what with their caressing, 
 And the agony of dressing, 
 Annabel McCarty didn't hear a 
 word. 
 
 single 
 
 There was music, there was dancing, 
 And the sight was most entrancing, 
 As if fairyland and floral band were holding 
 
 jubilee ; 
 
 There was laughing, there was pouting ; 
 There was singing, there was shouting; 
 And old and young together made a carnival of 
 glee. 
 
 Miss Annabel McCarty 
 Was the youngest at the party 
 And every one remarked that she was beautifully 
 
 dressed; 
 
 Like a doll she sat demurely 
 On the sofa, thinking surely 
 
 It would never do for her to run and frolic with 
 the rest. 
 
 The noise kept growing louder: 
 The naughty boys would crown her; 
 "I think you're very rude indeed! " the little lady 
 
 said ; 
 
 And then, without a warning, 
 Her home instructions scorning, 
 She screamed: "/ i^<ant my supper and I want 
 to go to bed!" 
 
142 
 
 THE LOST SPECTACLES. PRIDE BEFORE A FALL. 
 
 THE LOST SPECTACLES. 
 
 FROM "SAMANTHA AT SARATOGA," BY JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE. 
 
 W 
 
 US. 
 
 E went up the stairway into our room 
 perfectly tuckered out, both on 
 We found that Ardelia Tutt had been 
 to see us in our ab- 
 sence. She had been 
 into our room, I see, 
 for she had dropped 
 one of her in its 
 there, and the cham- 
 bermaid said she 
 had been in and 
 
 waited for us quite a spell the young man 
 a'waitin' below on the piazza, so I s'pose. 
 
 I expect Ardelia wanted to show him off 
 to us, and I myself wuz quite anxus to see 
 him. 
 
 Well, about an hour after we came back, 
 Josiah missed his glasses he reads with. 
 And we looked all over the house for 'em, 
 and under the bed, and on the ceilin', and 
 through our trunks and bandboxes, and all 
 our pockets, and in the Bible, and Josiah's 
 boots, and everywhere. And finely, 
 after givin' 'em up as lost, the idee came 
 to us that they might possibly have 
 ketched on the fringe of Ardelia's shawl, 
 and so rode home with her on it. 
 
 So we sent one of the office-boys 
 home with her mit and asked her if she 
 had seen Josiah's glasses. And word 
 came back by the boy that she hadn't 
 seen 'em ; and she sent word to me to 
 look on my pardner's head for 'em, and, 
 sure enough, we found 'em, right on his 
 foretop, to both of our surprises. 
 
 PRIDE BEFORE A FALL. 
 
 COULD anything look prouder than 
 the two turkey gobblers in the 
 opposite picture ? They appear so grand 
 that the common geese and ducks and 
 chickens are fairly bursting with envy as 
 they see them. And notice the rosette 
 upon their pen and the honorary title " ist 
 Prize." These are, indeed, the prize gob- 
 blers. Of all the turkeys at the county 
 fair these were voted the best. 
 
 Well may they be proud of their honors; 
 
 but for what were they voted best ? As 
 being " fattest and fittest to kill for the com- 
 ing Christmas ! " That's not much to be 
 proud of, is it? Some day, soon, this tur- 
 key pen will be empty. The other fowls 
 will gather round to look at the "prize 
 poultry," but their majesties will be gone. 
 At the wood-pile their severed heads will 
 lie, and happy Christmas parties will feast 
 upon their flesh. Surely, " Pride goeth be- 
 fore a fall." 
 
THE GRAND GOBBLERS. 
 
144 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 BY F. BLAKE CROFTON. 
 
 A SEE-SAW IN AN ELEPHANT PIT. 
 
 SOME miles from the company's trading- 
 post was a four-sided cut in the 
 ground. It was thirty feet long, by twenty 
 broad. In depth it was over twelve feet, 
 and its sides were perpendicular. It had 
 been an elephant pit when elephants were 
 plenty and the ivory trade brisk in the dis- 
 trict. 
 
 At the time I speak of it was no longer 
 in use. A couple of planks, covered with 
 withered sods and brambles, were all that 
 remained of the false roof which had served 
 to lure unsuspecting elephants to their 
 downfall. 
 
 In this cut I was once forced to take 
 refuge by an infuriated keitloa, or black 
 rhinoceros, at which I had rashly fired. I 
 was obliged to throw away my rifle in my 
 race, and had barely time to leap blindly 
 into the pit, whose bottom I luckily reached 
 without any injury beyond a slight shock. 
 Here, seating myself on a pile of broken 
 planks, which in times past had yielded be- 
 neath the weight of elephants, I began to 
 reflect. I had enough time; indeed, I feared 
 I might have a good deal too much time 
 for reflection. A wounded rhinoceros is 
 a stayer, and no mistake. 
 
 That I could climb out by piling up 
 rubbish seemed likely; but I didn't want 
 to climb out while the keitloa was on duty 
 there. That he could jump in was cer- 
 tain ; and I fancied I could tease him into 
 risking a leap. But I was far from wish- 
 ing him to do so, unless I could go up and 
 out at the same instant; and this, I thought, 
 was simply impossible. 
 
 At last I hit upon a scheme a dangerous 
 one, to be sure, but not so dangerous as 
 waiting to be starved to death. I con- 
 structed a see-saw. A strong, unbroken 
 plank made my moving-beam ; for a sta- 
 tionary, or supporting board, I put several 
 broken planks on top of one another and 
 bound them, as best I could, with bits of 
 old rope. This rope had formerly served 
 to bind the false roof, and now lay amoii^ 
 its ruins at the bottom of the pit. 
 
 One end of the moving-beam was im- 
 mediately under that side of the pit where 
 the rhinoceros had taken his stand. Across 
 the beam, from this end to where its centre 
 rested on the fixed support, I tied branches 
 
A TIGER FAMILY AT HOME. 
 
 146 
 
146 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 and covered them with withered grass 
 knowing that a rhinoceros is never remark- 
 able for smartness, and is especially easy to 
 deceive when angry. 
 
 I then took my seat on the other end of 
 the see-saw, thereby, of course, tipping up 
 the extremity nearest the huge brute, at 
 which I began popping with my revolver. 
 I also, in imitation of the natives, called 
 him various abusive names, and reflected 
 insultingly upon his ancestry. At last he 
 screamed, or perhaps I should say grunted, 
 with rage (whether at the bullets or the 
 abuse, I cannot say) and withdrew a few 
 steps for a charge. Notwithstanding a 
 slight sinking sensation, I fired my last car- 
 tridge and shouted out the name which I 
 had heard was most offensive to a sensitive 
 keitloa. Then I shut my eyes and nervous- 
 ly awaited his descent. 
 
 If he touched the see-saw with any part 
 of his ponderous body, I should be shot 
 up where, I could not exactly tell ; if he 
 missed the see-saw, I should stay down, 
 and it would be all up with me. 
 
 Bang ! came his forefoot on the raised 
 end of the beam, cutting short my reflec- 
 tions. Whiz ! up went the lower end, 
 and I with it, like a rocket. I fortunately 
 alighted outside the pit, having been con- 
 siderably above its brink at the height of 
 my flight. 
 
 The rhinoceros was now a captive him- 
 self. Indeed, I believe he continues one to 
 this day, for an agent of Barnum's shortly 
 afterward visited our station in search of 
 
 new attractions for his menagerie, and I 
 
 sold my prisoner for , but I must not let 
 
 out trade secrets. 
 
 TIGERS AT HOME. 
 
 HERE is a tiger family (p. 145). They mates, the male and female living together 
 are regular Bengal tigers, as is in the most loving and constant devotion, 
 shown by the beautiful marking of their They watch over their young very vigilant- 
 hides. The baby tigers show their nature ly, allowing no harm to reach them, and re- 
 in their play, two of them making angry senting the slightest show of interference, 
 demonstrations, oven though they are wholly When the young tigers are able to do for 
 "in fun." themselves, the old folks send them off, and 
 Tigers are very true to each other as they lose all knowledge of their descendants. 
 
ABUSING AUNT SARAH. 
 
 147 
 
 ABUSINQ AUNT SARAH. 
 
 FROM "SAMANTHA AT SARATOGA," BY JOSIAH ALLEN*S WIFE. 
 
 IWUZ interrupted jest here by my com- faces, and I went on : " I'd be ashamed of 
 
 panion hollerin' up in a loud voice to a myself if I wuz in your places, to be a 
 
 boy, " Here ! you stop that, you young throwin' sticks at that feeble old woman, 
 
 scamp ! Don't you let me see you a doin' Why don't you spend your strengths a-try- 
 
 that agin ! " in' to do sunthin' for her? Git her a home, 
 
 Sez I, " What is it, Josiah Allen ? " and sunthin' to eat, and a better dress. 
 
 "Why, look at them young imps, a- Before I'd do what you are a doin' now, I'd 
 
 throwin' sticks at that feeble old woman 
 over there." 
 
 I looked, and my own heart wuz rousted 
 up with indignation. I stood where I couldn't 
 see her face, but I see she wuz old, feeble 
 and bent, a withered, poor old creeter, and 
 they had marked up over her her name, 
 Aunt Sally. 
 
 I, too, wuz burnin' indignant to see a lot 
 of young creeters a-throwin' sticks at her, 
 and I cried out loud : " Do you let Sarah 
 be." 
 
 They turned round and laughed in our 
 in 
 
 growvel in the dust. Why, if you wuz my 
 boys, I'd give you as good a spankin' as you 
 ever had." 
 
 But they jest laughed at us, the impu- 
 dent creeters. And one of the boys at 
 that minute took up a stick and threw it, 
 and hit Sarah right on her poor old head. 
 Sez Josiah : " Don't you hit Sarah agin." 
 Sez the boys : " We will," and two of 'em 
 hit her at one time. And one of 'em 
 knocked the pipe right out of her mouth. 
 She wuz a smokin', poor old creeter. I 
 s'pose that wuz all the comfert she took. 
 
148 
 
 ABUSING AUNT SARAK. 
 
 But did them little imps care? They 
 knocked her as if they hated the sight of 
 her. And my Josiah (I wuz proud of that 
 man) jest advanced onto 'em, and took 'em 
 
 one in each hand, and gin 'em sech a shak- 
 in', that I most expected to see their bones 
 drop out, and sez he, between each shake : 
 " Will you let Sarah alone now ? " 
 
 I was proud of my Josiah, but fearful of 
 of the effect of so much voyalence onto his 
 
 constitution, and also onto the boys' frames. 
 And I advanced onto the seen of carnage 
 and besought him to be calm. Sez he: "I 
 wont be calm ! I haint the man, Saman- 
 tha, to stand by and see one of your sect 
 throwed at, as I have seen Sarah throwed 
 at, without avengin' of it." 
 
 And agin he shook them boys with a 
 vehemence. The pennies and marbles in 
 their pockets rattled and their bones seemed 
 ready to part asunder. I wuz proud of 
 that noble man, my pardner. But still I 
 knew that if their bones wuz shattered my 
 pardner would be avenged upon by incensed 
 parents. And I sez : " I'd let 'em go now, 
 Josiah. I don't believe they'll ever harm 
 Sarah agin." Sez I : " Boys, you wont, will 
 you, ever strike a poor, feeble old woman 
 agin?" Sez I: "Promise me, boys, not to 
 hurt Sarah." 
 
 I don't know what the effect of my words 
 would have been, but a man came up jest 
 then and explained to me that Aunt Sally 
 wuz a image that they throwed at for one 
 cent apiece to see if they could break her 
 pipe. 
 
 I see how it wuz, and cooled right down, 
 and so did Josiah. And he gin the boys 
 five cents apiece, and quiet rained down on 
 the encampment. 
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL. 
 
 BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
 I 
 
 T was very cold, the snow fell, and it 
 was almost quite dark ; for it was 
 evening yes, the last evening of the year. 
 Amid the cold and the darkness a poor 
 little girl, with bare head and naked feet, 
 was roaming through the streets. It is 
 
 true, she had a pair of slippers when she 
 left home, but they were not of much use. 
 They were very large slippers ; so large, 
 indeed, that they had hitherto been used by 
 her mother; besides, the little creature lost 
 them as she hurried across the street, to 
 
PEEPING AT THE GLORIES OF NEW YEAR'S EVE. 
 
 149 
 
150 
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL. 
 
 avoid two carriages that were driving very 
 quickly past. One of the slippers was not 
 to be found, and the other was pounced 
 upon by a boy, who ran away with it, saying 
 that it would serve for a cradle when he 
 should have children of his own. So the 
 little girl went along, with her little bare 
 feet that were red and blue with cold. She 
 carried a number of matches in an old 
 apron, and she held a bundle of them in 
 her hand. Nobody had bought anything 
 from her the whole livelong day ; nobody 
 had even given her a penny. 
 
 Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept 
 along, a perfect picture of misery poor 
 little thing! The snow-flakes covered her 
 long, flaxen hair, which hung in pretty curls 
 round her throat; but she heeded them 
 not now. Lights were streaming from all 
 the windows, and there was a savory smell 
 of roast goose ; for it was New Year's Eve. 
 And this she did heed. 
 
 She now sat down, cowering in a corner 
 formed by two houses, one of which pro- 
 jected beyond the other. She had drawn 
 her little feet under her, but she felt colder 
 than ever ; yet she dared not return home, 
 for she had not sold a match, and could not 
 bring home a penny ! She would certainly 
 be beaten by her father; and it was cold 
 enough at home, besides for they had only 
 the roof above them, and the wind came 
 howling through it, though the largest holes 
 had been stopped with straw and rags. 
 Her little hands were nearly frozen with 
 cold. Alas ! a single match might do her 
 some good, if she might only draw one 
 out of the bundle and rub it against the 
 wall and warm her fingers. 
 
 So at last she drew one out. Ah ! how 
 it sheds sparks, and how it burns ! It gave 
 out a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, 
 
 as she held her hands over it truly, it was 
 a wonderful little sight! It really seemed 
 to the little girl as if she were sitting before 
 a large iron stove, with polished brass feet 
 and brass shovel and tongs. The fire 
 burned so brightly, and warmed so nicely, 
 that the little creature stretched out her 
 feet to warm them likewise, when, lo ! the 
 flame expired, the stove vanished, and left 
 nothing but the little half-burned match in 
 her hand. 
 
 She rubbed another match against the 
 wall. It gave a light, and where it shone 
 upon the wall the latter became as trans- 
 parent as a veil, and she could see into the 
 room. A snow-white table-cloth was spread 
 upon the table, on which stood a splendid 
 china dinner-service, while a roast goose 
 stuffed with apples and prunes sent forth 
 the most savory fumes. And what was 
 more delightful still to see, the goose jumped 
 down from the dish, and waddled along the 
 ground with a knife and fork in its breast, 
 up to the poor girl. The match then went 
 out, and nothing remained but the thick, 
 damp wall. 
 
 She lit yet another match. She now sat 
 under the most magnificent Christmas tree, 
 that was larger, and more superbly decked, 
 than even the one she had seen through the 
 glass door at the rich merchant's. A thou- 
 sand tapers burned on its green branches, 
 and gay pictures, such as one sees on shields, 
 seemed to be looking down upon her. She 
 stretched out her hands, but the match then 
 went out. The Christmas lights kept rising 
 higher and higher. They now looked like 
 stars in the sky. One of them fell down, 
 and left a long streak of fire. " Somebody 
 is now dying," thought the little girl for 
 her old grandmother, the only person who 
 had ever loved her, and who was now dead, 
 
THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL. PUSS AND THE CRAB. 
 
 151 
 
 had toki her that, when a star falls, it is a 
 sign that a soul is going up to heaven. 
 
 She again rubbed a match upon the wall, 
 and it was again light all round ; and in the 
 brightness stood her old grandmother, clear 
 and shining like a spirit, yet looking so mild 
 and loving. " Grandmother," cried the little 
 one, " oh, take me with you ! I know you 
 will go away when the match goes out 
 you will vanish like the warm stove, and the 
 delicious roast goose, and the fine, large 
 Christmas-tree ! " And she made haste to 
 rub the whole bundle of matches, for she 
 wished to hold her grandmother fast. And 
 the matches gave a light that was brighter 
 than noonday. Her grandmother had never 
 appeared so beautiful nor so large. She 
 took the little girl in her arms, and both 
 
 flew upwards, all radiant and joyful, far, far 
 above mortal ken, where there was neither 
 cold, nor hunger, nor care to be found; 
 where there was no rain, no snow, or stormy 
 wind, but calm, sunny days the whole year 
 round. 
 
 But, in the cold dawn, the poor girl might 
 be seen kneeling against the wall, with red 
 cheeks and smiling mouth ; she had been 
 frozen on the last night of the old year. 
 The new year's sun shone upon the little 
 dead girl. She sat still holding the matches, 
 one bundle of which was burned. People 
 said: "She tried to warm herself." No- 
 body dreamed of the fine things she had 
 seen, nor in what splendor she had entered, 
 along with her grandmother, upon the joys 
 of the New Year. 
 
 I 
 
 PUSS 
 
 WONDER," says puss, 
 
 " If a thing like that 
 
 Would presume to bite 
 
 A respectable cat? 
 
 AND THE CRAB. 
 
 " It's the queerest thing 
 
 That ever I saw ; 
 I'll hit it a slap 
 With my strong fore-paw. 
 
 " No ! no ! On the whole 
 
 I had better not ; 
 But what curious claws 
 The creature has got ! 
 
 " I'll play with the animal, 
 
 Just to see 
 If it wishes to do 
 Any harm to me. 
 
 " No, I guess I had better 
 
 Get out of its way, 
 And I surely am safer 
 Not even to play. 
 
 " For I'll get into trouble 
 
 And horribly wail, 
 If that thing with its claws 
 Takes a grip on my tail." 
 
152 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 BY ANNIE MATHESON. 
 
 I. 
 
 THERE was once a merchant who had 
 three daughters. Having suddenly 
 lost all his fortune, he took a little cottage 
 in an out-of-the-way part of the country and 
 tried to content himself with poverty. 
 
 But one morning he received the welcome 
 news that tidings had been heard of a valu- 
 able cargo which he feared had long since 
 foundered. 
 
 He told his daughters that he must set 
 out on a journey in the hope of recovering 
 it. 
 
 "Father," said the eldest sister, "be sure 
 you bring me something worth having when 
 you come home from your journey." 
 
 The old man sighed and looked wistfully 
 at his three daughters. 
 
 " Promises are promises, dear papa," cried 
 the second daughter; "and, whatever you 
 do, you mustn't come back without those 
 earrings you promised me." 
 
 The youngest daughter saw that her father 
 
 was sad, so she rose softly and stood beside 
 his arm-chair with her arm about his neck. 
 She heard him sigh a second time when her 
 sister spoke of the earrings, and then she 
 knelt down and slipped her hand in his. 
 
 She had never seen her father weep, but 
 now a large tear fell on her wrist as he 
 clasped her little fingers in his own. 
 
 "And what shall I bring for you, my 
 Beauty? " he said. 
 
 " Come back to me quickly yourself, 
 ' father that is all I want." 
 
 "Nonsense, child! " the old man answered, 
 rather peevishly ; " I won't have you the 
 only one to go without a keepsake. Come, 
 what shall it be ?" 
 
 Beauty was silent for a moment. 
 
 " Dear father, I should like a rose," she 
 said ; " I am so fond of roses." 
 
 The two sisters began to laugh very 
 loudly. 
 
 "A rose!" they said; "how ridiculous! 
 As if she couldn't gather them out of the 
 hedges any fine morning! " 
 
 " I will not have Beauty laughed at," re- 
 plied their father. " I shall bring her the 
 sweetest rose I can find." And that very 
 day he set out on his journey with a faint- 
 hearted hope that he might recover a part 
 of his wealth. But in this he entirely 
 failed. 
 
 About a week afterwards, as he was re- 
 turning home to his daughters, he was over- 
 taken by a sudden storm. 
 
 The sky darkened, the rain poured down 
 in torrents, and the thunder and lightning 
 were so terrible that the old man was quite 
 bewildered, and knew not which way to turn. 
 He had never before travelled alone, and on 
 
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 153 
 
 foot, but he had had to choose between a 
 horse and servant and the promised gifts 
 for his elder daughters, and he had pre- 
 ferred to walk many a weary mile rather 
 than disappoint his girls at home. 
 
 The night came on, but still he struggled 
 through the tempest, thinking every moment 
 would be his last. He had wandered far 
 from his homeward road into a part of the 
 country of which he knew nothing. 
 
 All at once a wild flash of lightning 
 showed him that he was in the midst of a 
 great garden, full of strange fruits and 
 flowers, such as he had never seen before, 
 and through the trees there glimmered the 
 white walls and towers of a palace. 
 
 "Surely," he said to himself, "even a dog 
 would find shelter such a night as this. If 
 I can but creep to the doors no one will turn 
 me away." 
 
 Now, for the first time, there seemed to 
 be lights in the palace windows, and by the 
 help of these he found his way to the wide 
 entrance gate, which was open to all comers. 
 There were no servants anywhere to be 
 seen, so he made his way into the great hall 
 and sank down before a blazing fire, swoon- 
 ing with distress and weariness. 
 
 When he revived, he found himself laid 
 upon the couch in a luxurious chamber, 
 where everything was prepared for his 
 comfort. 
 
 It was still night, and the room was dimly 
 lighted by a silver lamp of curious work- 
 manship. He was covered with soft warm 
 furs, and fragrant wood was burning on the 
 hearth. A plate of delicious fruit was close 
 at hand, beside a flagon of wine and a rare 
 old drinking bowl. 
 
 With a sigh of bewildered content the 
 old man fell asleep again, and slept till a 
 late hour in the following day. 
 
 When he awoke, he found a court suit 
 laid out ready for his use, instead of his 
 own travel-stained garments, and all that 
 he needed was ready to his hand. 
 
 At last he left his room, found his way 
 through a long, lonely corridor, and de- 
 scended the staircase. To his great sur- 
 prise he still caught no glimpse of any liv- 
 ing creature. Yet he found every part of 
 the palace in perfect order, well aired and 
 lighted, and free from dust. It had an un- 
 mistakably " lived in " look, and he could 
 not get rid of the feeling that he was among 
 unseen companions. 
 
 He entered a large bright room looking 
 out upon the garden, and instantly a table 
 rose through the floor, filled with smoking 
 dainties for his breakfast. Throughout the 
 meal all his wants were supplied, though 
 not one solitary mortal met his gaze. 
 
 While he drank his coffee and tasted the 
 crisp white cakes and delicate fruits, he 
 could do nothing but wonder whether he 
 
154 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 was dreaming. He was not one of the 
 people who think nothing is possible that 
 has not happened before ; nevertheless he 
 was puzzled. After breakfast he pushed 
 back his chair and walked to the window. 
 Instantly it opened, and he stepped out on- 
 to the lawn. The morning air was fresh 
 and dewy, and full of the scent of roses. 
 A rainbow played about the fountain that 
 cast up its spray among the trees, and 
 everywhere the opening flowers lifted their 
 bright faces towards the sun. 
 
 There were flowers of every form and 
 hue some of them more wonderful than 
 any he had ever seen before; but fairer and 
 sweeter than all the rest were the common 
 roses. They were more abundant, too, than 
 all the others. The whole garden was a 
 bovver of roses. Crimson and white, creamy 
 and pink, pale yellow and dusky gold, every- 
 where the trees and shrubs showered roses. 
 The paths were half covered with the fallen 
 petals, and the air was heavy with the pene- 
 trating sweetness of the unfolding buds. 
 
 All the morning he wandered on through 
 the blossomy mazes of the garden, in the 
 vague hope of finding some one who would 
 give him a rose for Beauty, for somehow he 
 hesitated to take one without leave. He 
 had felt no such scruple about wearing the 
 clothes or eating the breakfast provided for 
 him, but then the food and raiment had 
 obviously been intended for his use ; but 
 no roses fell into his hand for all his 
 wishing. 
 
 When the heat of the midday sun drove 
 him back into the palace, he found a deli- 
 cious repast awaiting him, and he had no 
 sooner seated himself at the well-filled 
 board than the covers were removed by 
 invisible hands, and his glass was filled with 
 wine. As he sat at dinner he decided to 
 
 return home the same night, and in the 
 cool of the day he went down the palace 
 steps and set his face towards home. As 
 he neared the gate, he turned with a sigh 
 to look once more at the roses. A great 
 bough of sweet snowy buds leaned down 
 towards him from the arched trellis over- 
 head, and, scarce knowing what he did, the 
 old man put out a trembling hand to reach 
 them. 
 
 . 
 
 Immediately a rough touch was laid upon 
 his arm. " How dare you steal my roses ? " 
 said a low, growling voice, and turning his 
 head he beheld a great, ugly Beast, gazing 
 at him with wild, sad eyes that seemed to 
 look him through and through. " How 
 dare you steal my roses ? " he repeated ; 
 " you shall certainly die for it ! " 
 
 "They are for Beauty," said the old man, 
 in a frightened, shaking tone. 
 
 "Then let her come and die in your 
 stead," said the Beast ; and taking the old 
 man by the shoulders, and looking at him 
 
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 155 
 
 intently, he added, " Is she very fond of 
 roses, your Beauty ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the old man, " she is very 
 fond of them ; " and his voice quavered off 
 into a sob. 
 
 " I knew it," replied the Beast, trium- 
 phantly, " but I wanted to hear you say so. 
 Well," he added gently, " you may take her 
 these poor little white blooms ; but you 
 must promise to bring her to visit me." 
 And so saying he broke off the whole 
 branch from which the old man had in- 
 tended to pluck a single cluster. 
 
 " It is a long way for her to come," fal- 
 tered the old man "almost three days' 
 journey." 
 
 "That is nothing," said the Beast. "A 
 poor return you make for my hospitality, 
 refusing; me the first little favor I ask of 
 
 o 
 
 you ! I tell you, you must bring her to me 
 without delay, or I will not answer for your 
 life." And so saying he put the roses into 
 his hand, and suddenly vanished. "And if 
 I do what he asks of me," muttered the old 
 man, "who will answer for Beauty's life, I 
 wonder?" 
 
 II. 
 
 " I AM sure that is father's knock," cried 
 Beauty, throwing down her work and rush- 
 ing to the door. It was late at night, and 
 she had given up all hope of seeing him 
 that day. The hours had seemed very long 
 without him, and now her hands trembled 
 with pleasure as she hurriedly unbarred the 
 door. 
 
 " Father ! father ! " she cried, as she threw 
 her arms around his neck, " I have wanted 
 you so much, and now I am so happy ! " 
 She did not even see the spray of withered 
 roses that he carried in his hand she had 
 no eyes for anything or anybody but her 
 father. 
 
 " My darling," said the old man, " you will 
 never be so happy again." 
 
 But at this moment the other two daugh- 
 ters came running out into the doorway. 
 
 " Oh, father," they exclaimed, " we are so 
 glad to see you, but we didn't hear the car- 
 riage wheels. Have you been successful, 
 father? Have you come home rich? Why, 
 where in the world is your baggage, and 
 and what is that new-fangled suit you are 
 
 wearing-? 
 
 O 
 
 " My dears, I am very tired," said the old 
 man, faintly, "and very unfortunate." 
 
 " Come in, dear father," said Beauty, tak- 
 ing him by the hand and leading him to a 
 chair by the fire ; while the other two daugh- 
 ters looked at one another in dismay. 
 
 " Here are your roses, Beauty," he an- 
 swered ; "run and put them in water while 
 I talk to your sisters." He could not bear 
 to tell her his ill news ; he wanted her to be 
 happy a little longer. 
 
 " Father, how good you are ! " she said ; 
 " I only asked for one, and you have given 
 me all these." 
 
 Then very slowly and sadly he put his 
 hand in his pocket and drew forth the ear- 
 rings and the bracelet which he had brought 
 for her sisters. 
 
 The evening wore away, and before it 
 was over he had at last found courage to tell 
 Beauty what had happened. Her sisters 
 had been almost as melancholy as their 
 father when they heard that they were still 
 as poor as ever. But Beauty had assured 
 him that for her own part she found life in a 
 cottage very pleasant, and she hoped that 
 they should live together quietly like this all 
 their lives. " The money doesn't matter a 
 bit, dear father," she said, " as long as we 
 are undivided." 
 
 It was then that he covered his face with 
 
150 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 his hands and told her despairingly what 
 the Beast had said. 
 
 Beauty turned a little pale, and shook like 
 an aspen leaf. "Why, father," she said, 
 " you speak as if it were something dread- 
 ful ; but it must be a beautiful place to stay 
 at. Just think of all the roses ! And I 
 don't believe the Beast will hurt me. All 
 the beasts that I have seen are my friends, 
 and why should I fear the one I have not 
 seen?" 
 
 But her father shook his head. " The 
 Beast intends to kill one or the other 
 of us," he said. " No, Beauty, you shall 
 not be sacrificed." 
 
 " Don't be afraid, father," Beauty an- 
 swered. " I will ask him to forgive you. 
 Let us go to-morrow morning." 
 But all that night she lay awake, and 
 for the first time she knew what trouble 
 meant. 
 
 III. 
 
 BEAUTY had been some days at the 
 palace, and on the first morning after 
 her arrival the Beast had dismissed her 
 father. 
 
 The monster had treated both his 
 guests with such tender and generous 
 consideration that Beauty had ventured 
 to say to him : " Will you forgive us, 
 Beast?" 
 
 " You have done no harm," he an- 
 swered, gruffly. 
 
 " My father gathered some of your 
 roses for me," said Beauty. 
 
 Then the Beast's eyes had flashed ter- 
 ribly, and he had asked her in quick, hur- 
 ried tones: "Will you give your life for 
 his, Beauty?" adding a moment afterwards, 
 with yet greater agitation, " Will you marry 
 me, Beauty?" 
 
 To this Beauty had replied, in a clear, 
 
 gentle voice : " I would rather die, Beast." 
 It was after this that the Beast sent away 
 her father. 
 
 All her wants were supplied almost be- 
 fore she knew what they were all except 
 her constant need of her father, and her 
 longing for some other companionship be- 
 sides that of the Beast. 
 
 She had never before been so magnifi- 
 cently housed, so delicately fed, or so beauti- 
 fully clothed. The Beast seemed to know 
 
 all her wishes before they were uttered, and 
 again and again he fulfilled them all unasked 
 in the most magical way. But, in spite of 
 his kindness, she was very lonely. 
 
 Every day at dinner he asked her to 
 
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 157 
 
 marry him, and every day her voice trembled 
 more, and her eyes grew larger and more 
 tearful as she answered : " I would rather 
 die, Beast." 
 
 One day, as he was putting a ripe peach 
 on her plate, he startled her by saying sud- 
 denly : " You have been crying, Beauty. 
 You are unhappy because I will not let you 
 go home and see your father." 
 
 Beauty could not answer for a moment, 
 and he sat glaring at her with his great sad 
 eyes. He had a way of doing that until 
 sometimes Beauty quivered with the pain 
 of it. All at once he said to her: "Am I 
 very ugly, Beauty ?" 
 
 Still Beauty did not reply, but she blushed 
 as red as the sweet rose that she wore in her 
 bosom, and in her fright and anxiety she 
 touched the petals with her white fingers. 
 
 "Ah, well! nevermind," said the Beast, 
 in a sorrowful voice ; "of course I am ugly ; 
 you needn't have been afraid to say so, 
 child." Then his eye was caught by the 
 sudden movement of her hand, and he added 
 rather sharply and abruptly : " Who gave 
 you that rose ?" 
 
 "I thought you meant I might have them," 
 said Beauty, tremblingly. She was so used 
 to being treated as if everything in the 
 palace were her own, that she had never 
 dreamed of asking leave to gather a flower. 
 
 "The whole garden is yours, of course," 
 said the Beast, looking down into his wine- 
 glass ; "but don't gather the' roses, the 
 thorns will hurt you. I will give you one 
 some day," he added, suddenly looking up 
 at her very fiercely. 
 
 " Thank you," said Beauty, faintly, and 
 she took the rose out of her gown and laid 
 it on the table. 
 
 " Give it to me," said the Beast, upsetting 
 a whole dish of fruit in his eagerness. 
 
 Beauty obeyed. 
 
 " Now, Beauty, if you have finished youf 
 dessert, you may leave me to my wine. Go 
 up to your room, and on the window-sill you 
 will find a little ring. Put it on the first 
 finger of your left hand, and when you 
 awake you will find yourself at home." 
 
 Beauty tried to thank him. 
 
 " If you say another word I shall be 
 furious. Show that you mean what you 
 say by coming back at the end of a week ; 
 if you disappoint me I shall die. While 
 you are at home you need not wear the 
 ring ; when you want to come back you 
 must put it on. Will you come at the end 
 of a week, Beauty ? " and the Beast seized 
 her by both hands, and looked her in the 
 face very wistfully. 
 . " Yes," she said, " I will come." 
 
 IV. 
 
 WHEN Beauty had put on the ring she 
 fell into a deep sleep, from which she awoke 
 the next morning to find herself in her own 
 little bed at home. Her sisters were rap- 
 ping loudly at the door, and telling her that 
 the hall was full of boxes, all addressed to 
 her. Nobody knew how they had come 
 there, but they were full of all kinds of 
 lovely things for everybody in the house, 
 and Beauty had the pleasure of giving 
 pretty gifts to every one. There was also 
 a hamper packed with delicacies for her 
 father, and another full of roses. Though 
 they had by far the largest share of the 
 presents, Beauty's sisters were quite miser- 
 able with jealousy, and this was increased 
 by the fact that every morning during 
 Beauty's visit there arrived in some mys- 
 terious fashion a great basket of beautiful 
 rosebuds. 
 
 Beauty found that all the homely duties 
 
158 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 of the household had been neglected in her 
 absence. The floor was unsvvept, the bread 
 was half baked, the wood was still too damp 
 to make a fire. It seemed impossible to 
 prepare a comfortable meal. So Beauty 
 was not at all surprised to hear from her 
 sisters that her father was ill in bed. 
 
 The poor old man was so overjoyed to 
 see her that he began to recover a little, and 
 she devoted herself to him day and night. 
 Sometimes he would ask her feebly whether 
 she had been very unhappy, and whether it 
 would not have been better that he should 
 have given up his life at once rather than 
 that she should have to endure so much for 
 his sake. And then Beauty would remind 
 him how beautiful the garden was, and how 
 sweet she found the roses, and above all 
 how kindly the Beast had treated her ; and 
 as she told her father all that had come to 
 pass, she realized for the first time how 
 good and gentle the Beast had been. 
 
 But as the time drew near for her to go 
 
 o 
 
 away again, her father fell into a raging 
 fever, and if it had not been for Beauty's 
 good nursing he would surely have died. 
 For two whole days and nights she was so 
 anxious about him that she quite forgot all 
 about the Beast. On the third morning it 
 flashed across her, with a pang of inde- 
 scribable pain, that she had broken her 
 promise. 
 
 Her father was now sleeping tranquilly, 
 and she determined to return at once to the 
 palace and ask leave to stay a little longer, 
 until he had quite recovered. 
 
 She put on her ring, closed her eyes, and 
 woke to find herself in the palace. There 
 was a great silence everywhere, and her 
 heart was full of a nameless dread. What 
 if anything had happened to the poor Beast 
 in her absence? What if he had gone 
 
 away and she would never have the chance 
 of telling him how it was that she had 
 broken her word ? 
 
 With beating heart and troubled eyes 
 Beauty ran through all the empty rooms of 
 the palace, but nowhere, nowhere could she 
 find the Beast. 
 
 Then she hurried out into the garden. 
 Down glade after glade she hastened with 
 flying feet ; and the roses bloomed above 
 her, and the blue sky looked down through 
 the red and white blossoms, till their very 
 beauty was a pain to her. At last in her 
 distress, she stayed her running for a mo- 
 ment, and took courage to call the Beast 
 by name. 
 
 " Beast, dear Beast ! " she cried ; " where 
 are you ? I have come back to you." 
 
 But in reply she only heard the singing 
 of the birds, and their sweet, joyous notes 
 seemed all at once to hurt her. 
 
 At last, by a sudden impulse, she turned 
 towards the fountain where the Beast had 
 first seen her when she came with her 
 father. Alas ! her worst fear took shape 
 before her, for there, upon the ground by 
 the fountain, lay the lifeless form of the 
 Beast. Beauty was filled with a dumb 
 horror that would hardly let her breathe. 
 " Had she indeed killed him by her cruel 
 faithlessness?" she asked herself; and she 
 loved him ! yes, now, indeed, she knew that 
 she loved him. What was his ugliness to 
 her, or his roughness, or his uncouth ways? 
 If he would only come to life again, would 
 not the roses once more be beautiful, and 
 the birds' songs good to listen to, and the 
 whole world worth having? Beauty flung 
 herself at his feet in a passion of repentant 
 grief. 
 
 " O Beast, Beast ! " she cried, " if you 
 would only come to life again I would do all 
 
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
 
 159 
 
 that you ask me, I think yes, I am sure, 
 I would even marry you ! " 
 
 The last words were sobbed out to her- 
 self as she buried her face in the grass, be- 
 lieving that she should never hear the Beast 
 speak again. 
 
 " Beauty," said the voice she knew so 
 well, " you have broken the spell ; I am a 
 Beast no longer ; " and looking up, she be- 
 held a young prince, noble in face and form, 
 but with the Beast's loving eyes, and the 
 Beast's true voice, and the Beast's faithful 
 heart. " If you had not said you would 
 marry me, Beauty," he said, "I should never 
 have seen the light again ; " and very gently 
 he lifted her from the ground. "I was in 
 the power of a wicked fairy, and no one 
 else could have saved me." 
 
 "My father is ill," said Beauty; "I must 
 go back to him." 
 
 " He is here, Beauty. You have lost all 
 count of time, my darling ; it is a whole 
 week since you left him." 
 
 Then Beauty's father stepped forward, 
 for he was standing behind her. 
 
 "I have seen it all," he joyously ex- 
 claimed, " for I was summoned here by en- 
 chantment." 
 
 "You must never leave us," said the 
 Prince. "Tell him so, Beauty." 
 
 Beauty was too much amazed to speak. 
 But the Prince plucked the fairest, sweetest 
 rose in all the garden, and put it in her 
 bosom. 
 
 THE HEDGEHOG REFLECTS HOW HE SHALL HE HAS A HAPPY THOUGHT AND PROCEEDS TO ACT HE BEARS THE APPLE GAILY HOME TO HIS 
 
 CARRY HOME THE APPLE. UPON IT. FAMILY. 
 
SOUTH FRONT OF THE WHITK HOUSE, 1825. 
 
 A FAMOUS CHILDREN'S PARTY. 
 
 IN the city of Washington the President 
 of the United States lives in a very 
 pretty and extensive building known as the 
 White House. It stands at one end of the 
 principal street of the city, Pennsylvania ' 
 avenue, and at the other end stands the 
 magnificent Capitol building. 
 
 The White House was begun in the year 
 1792, when it was decided to make the seat 
 of the National Government at this spot. 
 President Washington was greatly interested 
 in the building of this home for the Presi- 
 dents, though he did not live to see it com- 
 pleted, nor did he ever live in it. 
 
 President John Adams was the first to 
 occupy the house, having entered it in the 
 early summer of the year 1800, when the 
 160 
 
 Government offices were moved from Phila- 
 delphia to Washington. 
 
 During the war with England, which be- 
 gan in 1812, Washington was captured by 
 the British, and in August, 1814, the Capi- 
 tol, the White House and other public 
 buildings were burned. The White House 
 was soon rebuilt, however, and all the 
 Presidents, since the time of John Adams, 
 have made it their home. 
 
 Many elegant parties have been given 
 within those walls, but one of the most 
 notable occurred when John Tyler was Presi- 
 dent. In honor of the birthday of a little 
 granddaughter he gave her a splendid fancy- 
 dress party. The little girl was arrayed as 
 a fairy. On her forehead was a diamond 
 
A FAMOUS CHILDREN'S PARTY. 
 
 161 
 
 star ; in her hand was a silver wand. She 
 stood on an elevated platform and received 
 her little guests, who were dressed in cos- 
 
 tumes of the most varied 
 and beautiful sorts, and 
 whose behavior was 
 most ladylike and gen- 
 tlemanly. 
 
 Some of the little people who were there 
 that night grew up to become famous men 
 and women. One of the little girls of that 
 company, the one dressed as a flower- 
 girl and offering a little bouquet to her 
 
 host, in her later life became the wife 
 of a great senator and was herself a 
 famous lady in Washington society. Some 
 little people were present 
 that night from every State 
 in the Union and from various 
 foreign countries. There 
 were children of members of 
 Congress and United States 
 Senators, of Governors of 
 States, of Ministers from for- 
 eign countries, of Government 
 officers of all grades and 
 many others whose parents 
 held no offices at all. 
 
 President Tyler himself was 
 present during the evening 
 and was happy as a lark with 
 his pretty guests. He was 
 assisted in entertaining them 
 by Mrs. Madison, widow of 
 the former President Madi- 
 son. She was a very aged 
 lady, but she was so lovely 
 that everybody, whether young 
 orold,enjoyedhersociety. Her 
 attendance was continually 
 sought at parties and other 
 gatherings, where she was 
 happy herself and made every- 
 body else happy. But boys and girls be- 
 longing to great families, and gathered in 
 great places, are very like other boys and 
 girls in other places. Young hearts desire 
 the same joys, and old heads cannot do better 
 than to make the young good and happy. 
 
KL' 
 
 PUSS AND THE LOOKING-GLASS. THE DROP OF WATER. 
 
 PUSS AND THE LOOKING-GLASS. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN Clover was a little puss, her 
 owner often held a 
 
 looking-glass 
 
 before her to see what its effect would be. 
 When she first saw herself in the glass she 
 looked intently for a time, and then gently 
 lifted her paw to touch the other cat. Find- 
 ing she could not do this, she cautiously 
 peeped behind the mirror, but not finding 
 the other kitten, she gave up the search. 
 
 After Clover had become a full-grown 
 cat, the old experiment of the mirror was 
 tried again. After a short look she curved 
 her back and showed fight. So did the 
 other cat, but Clover heard no answering 
 growls, and so began to suspect something 
 wrong. Approaching cautiously, she sniffed 
 the nose of the other, but finding a glass 
 between them, she darted around the mir- 
 ror, only to find the expected cat not there. 
 
 This settled it with Clover. She seemed 
 to feel that she had been imposed upon, 
 and never after could she be induced to 
 look for a moment into any looking-glass. 
 
 THE DROP OF WATER. 
 
 ""HERE was an old magician whom the 
 JL people called Kribble-Krabble, be- 
 cause he would have his own way. He sat 
 one day looking through his magnifying glass 
 at a drop of water. The water was full of 
 little creatures, which through the glass 
 appeared a thousand times as big as they 
 really were. And how they Kribble-Krab- 
 bled ! chasing each other about, fighting and 
 biting each other at a great rate. 
 
 " What have you there ? " asked another 
 old magician, who had no name. 
 
 " Guess," said Kribble-Krabble, " and I'll 
 make you a present of it." The magician 
 who had no name looked through the glass. 
 He had put a drop of coloring matter in 
 the water, which made the creatures all look 
 
 pink. It looked really like a great town re- 
 flected there, in which all the people were 
 running about without clothes ! It was ter- 
 rible ! But it was still more terrible to see 
 how one beat and pushed the other, and bit 
 and hacked, and tugged and mauled him. 
 Those who were at the top were being 
 pulled down, and those at the bottom were 
 struggling upwards. 
 
 "That's funny ! " said the magician. 
 
 " Yes ; but what do you think it is ? " said 
 Kribble-Krabble. "Can you find that out?" 
 
 "Why, one can see that easily enough, "said 
 the other. "That's Paris or some other great 
 city, for they're all alike. It's a great city !" 
 
 " It's only puddle water ! " said Kribble- 
 Krabble. 
 
HOW THE OLD GRAY SAVED THE BOYS. 
 
 AWAY, away, on the prairie wide, 
 Two settler's boys went out to ride ; 
 They sat on the back of their father's gray, 
 And over the plains they sped away. 
 
 When far from their home, a wandering band 
 Of Indians, bows and spears in hand, 
 11 
 
 Espied the boys, and at once gave chase 
 To carry them off to their camping-place. 
 
 But the grand old gray saw the danger nigh, 
 And across the plains toward their home did fly ; 
 Mid arrows and yells from that savage crew, 
 Like an arrow he sped, and he saved them too. 
 
 163 
 
REVIEWING THE TROOPS. 
 
 REVIEWING- THE TROOPS. 
 
 JOE MOORE lived in the country, and this was a feature that Joe needed in 
 There had been a great parade of his parade, so Will was appointed color- 
 soldiers in the city near by and Joe had sergeant, and he proudly carried a stick 
 been taken into town to see it. His little with a red handkerchief tied at its top 
 
 brother Will, and his sister Reba, had not 
 seen the big show, but Joe undertook to tell 
 them all about it. He had seen the soldiers 
 reviewed by a great general, so Joe made 
 himself the general for the great day at 
 home, and accordingly took possession of 
 the tin sword, which had been an old Christ- 
 mas present. He also became musician at 
 the same time and tooted vigorously on a 
 small tin horn. 
 
 He had seen the soldiers with their flags, 
 
 Reba had not much of the soldierly spirit, 
 so she wouldn't march, but held tight to her 
 basket, in which she carried a lot of apples 
 she was gathering for her mother. The 
 dog was ready for duty, but unfortunately 
 he wouldn't fall into line nor march in a 
 soldierly manner. He ran this way and 
 that, defying Joe's commands and coaxing. 
 It began to look as though the parade was 
 to prove a failure and as though Joe would 
 have no troops to review. At this pros- 
 
REVIEWING THE TROOPS. CRADLE SONG. 
 
 165 
 
 pect he was very sad and Will was in 
 despair. 
 
 But many a time in life the dark hours 
 are just before the day, and so it proved 
 now. Just as the children were about to 
 give it up, the geese came marching through 
 the barn-yard gate, passing the children 
 and making for the little pond. This was 
 Joe's chance. In an instant his fancy 
 changed the geese to troops of well- 
 equipped soldiers. With Will beside him 
 holding up the flag, and Reba in the rear 
 
 as an admiring crowd, the dog meanwhile 
 smelling in her basket in search of some- 
 thing suited to his taste, Joe held out his 
 sword and blew his trumpet, until the geese 
 squaked and fluttered at the dismal sounds 
 and the funny scene. But the parade 
 passed by geese, and ganders, and ducks 
 white black and mottled on they went to 
 the pond, and never was a great general 
 prouder than was Joe when he reviewed his 
 troops of geese. 
 
 CRADLE SONQ. 
 
 BY JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. 
 
 WHAT is the little one thinking about ? 
 Very wonderful things, no doubt ; 
 Unwritten history ! 
 Unfathomed mystery ! 
 
 Yet he chuckles, and crows, and nods and winks 
 As if his head were as full of kinks, 
 And curious riddles as any sphinx ! 
 Warped by colic, and wet by tears, 
 Punctured by pins, and tortured by fears, 
 Our little nephew will lose two years : 
 And he'll never know 
 Where the summers go ; 
 He need not laugh, for he'll find it so. 
 Who can tell what a baby thinks ? 
 Who can follow the gossamer links 
 
 By which the manikin feels its way 
 Out from the shore of the great unknown, 
 Blind, and wailing, and alone, 
 
 Into the light of the day? 
 Out from the shore of the unknown sea, 
 Tossing in pitiful agony ; 
 Of the unknown sea that reels and rolls, 
 Specked with the barks of little souls 
 Barks that were launched on the other side, 
 
 And slipped from heaven on an ebbing tide ! 
 
 What does he think of his mother's eyes ? 
 What does he think of his mother's hair? 
 
 What of the cradle-roof, that flies 
 Forward and backward through the air? 
 
 What does he think of his mother's breast, 
 Bare and beautiful, smooth and white, 
 Seeking it ever with fresh delight, 
 
 Cup of his life, and couch of. his rest? 
 What does he think when her quick embrace 
 Presses his hand and buries his face 
 Deep where the heart-throbs sink and swell, 
 With a tenderness she never can tell, 
 
 Though she murmurs the words 
 
 Of all the birds- 
 Words she has learned to murmur well ? 
 
 Now he thinks he'll go to sleep ! 
 
 I can see the shadow creep 
 Over his eyes in soft eclipse, 
 Over his brow and over his lips, 
 Out to his little finger-tips ! 
 Softly sinking, down he goes ! 
 Down he goes ! down he goes ! 
 See ! he's hushed in sweet repose. 
 
Kit; 
 
 THE BEARS OF BERNE. 
 
 THE BEARS OF BERNE. 
 
 BY MRS. C. G. TIIROOP. 
 
 THE Somervillers were travelling in 
 Europe. They had visited so many 
 cities, they had seen so many pictures and 
 statues, and so much ancient armor ; they 
 had been to so many cathedrals, and looked 
 at so many painted windows, that Jack and 
 Nellie, who were only eight and ten years 
 old, had really become quite weary of 
 grandeur, and had boldly declared that 
 they would not go out to see anything 
 more, unless it were a castle. Just think 
 of children who could be pleased with noth- 
 ing but a palace ! 
 
 But there was still something left to 
 charm them. What do you think it could 
 be? Let me whisper it low, for I am sure 
 you will be quite shocked it was Bears ! 
 
 One lovely July day they arrived in Berne, 
 a city of Switzerland. The city itself looked 
 lovely, nestling in the arm of the river Aar, 
 and perched upon a promontory seventeen 
 hundred feet above the level of the sea. 
 There was not a cloud to be seen ; and 
 there, against the summer sky, rose one 
 long stretch of snowy peaks, glittering in 
 the sunlight. This was what they came to 
 see "the Bernese Oberland." 
 
 "What is this funny place called?" asked 
 Jack, with great delight. 
 
 " This is Berne," said papa. " It is de- 
 rived from the ancient word biorn, which 
 means " bear." The ancient Teutons held 
 a bear in such veneration, that they always 
 spoke of him under breath, and called him 
 "The Wise Man!" 
 
 It is said that they always politely apolo- 
 gized to him beforehand when killing him 
 in the hunt. And, my boy, these people 
 you see in the streets hold him in about 
 
 the same veneration. If you keep your 
 eyes open, you will see that the device of 
 the Bear is blazoned all over the city on the 
 public buildings. You probably will also 
 see several live bears while you are here ; 
 for a public fund has been set apart for cen- 
 turies for the support of a large number of 
 these queer pets. 
 
 41 Oh, wont this be a jolly place, Nell ? " 
 cried Jack. 
 
 Nellie thought it would, provided the 
 bears were suitably confined. 
 
 Just then the carnage stopped again, for 
 the cocher, although he had a squint in one 
 eye, and could not see very well with the 
 other, besides not understanding a word of 
 their language, had, in some mysterious 
 way, discovered what would please the 
 children. 
 
 This time they stood in front of a tower, 
 surmounted by a famous clock. The hour 
 of twelve was just about to strike, and as 
 the cocher pointed up, all eyes were fixed 
 upon a stone image, holding in his hand a 
 hammer, with which he struck the hours, 
 while an odd little figure below sat in state, 
 holding an hour-glass with one hand, and 
 swaying a sceptre with the other. A ma- 
 jestic bear sat on one side, solemnly bowing 
 his head, while on the other a cock flapped 
 his wings, and crowed as though he had 
 been an energetic, live cock. Beneath 
 marched a procession of bears, all in full 
 armor. 
 
 The children clapped their hands in con- 
 cert, and " O-o-h's ! " and " M-y-y's ! " min- 
 gled with the solemn tones of the bell in 
 the old clock tower. 
 
 Wonders did not cease in this charming 
 
THE BEARS OF BERNE. 
 
 167 
 
 place, for they next drove to a large pit or 
 den, where several of the public pets, real 
 live bears, were kept ; and as the Somer- 
 villers stepped out of their carriage, and 
 
 leaned over the railing to look at them, 
 they only added a few more to the party of 
 twenty-five or thirty already absorbed in 
 the same delightful occupation. 
 
 " There are the mamma and papa," said 
 Nellie, as she pointed to two sober old 
 wise-heads, who seemed to be watching the 
 little ones with some anxiety. 
 
 Poor mamma bear was walking patiently 
 round and round the raised edge of a tank 
 of water, where a mischievous little one was 
 taking a bath, and splashing the water all 
 over her, whenever he could get a good 
 chance. 
 
 " She was afraid he would get drowned," 
 said Jack, as little Bruin jumped out, and 
 the old mamma smoothed his wet coat and 
 patted his shaggy head. 
 
 " Yes, and oh, isn't he very 
 naughty ? " answered Nellie, 
 as the little fellow gave an- 
 other plunge, and left poor 
 mamma in terror on the 
 brink. 
 
 Two more little imps were 
 climbing a tree. 
 
 " But just look over there," 
 exclaimed Jack, who pointed 
 across the wide den to a 
 party of boys, who had tied 
 a wisp of hay to a long string, 
 and were letting it down with- 
 in reach of two more baby 
 bears, who were standing on 
 their hind legs, and stretching 
 up their poor little heads to 
 reach it. Of course the boys 
 always pulled it away just as it came within 
 reach of their mouths, and of course their 
 disappointment was hailed each time with 
 shouts of laughter. 
 
 I am forced to acknowledge that Jack 
 said it was "splendid fun," and was just 
 about plunging into the depths of his 
 pocket for a string, when papa called him 
 to go ; and also informed him that an Eng- 
 lish officer had once fallen into the pit, and 
 had been immediately devoured by the 
 hungry bears; which gave Master Jack a 
 wholesome fear, and made him more will- 
 ing to depart. 
 
168 
 
 HOW BLOSSOM SAVED BENNIE. 
 
 HOW BLOSSOM SAVED BENNIE. 
 
 THERE was a very sad little company 
 one day in the house of Mr. Owen, 
 a sturdy farmer, and an excellent man, 
 whose only son, Bennie, was then absent 
 at the war, and stationed near the city of 
 Washington. News had come that Bennie 
 had been sentenced to death for sleeping 
 at his post. The neighboring pastor, Mr. 
 Allan, and some other friends, had come in 
 to express their sympathy. 
 
 After sitting silently for a while, the sor- 
 rowful father began : 
 
 " I thought, Mr. Allan, when I gave my 
 Bennie to his country, that not a father in 
 all this broad land made so precious a gift 
 no, not one. The dear boy only slept a 
 minute, just one little minute, at his post; I 
 know that was all, for Bennie never dozed 
 over a duty. Why, he was only eighteen ! 
 and now they shoot him because he was 
 found asleep when doing sentinel duty. 
 Twenty-four hours the telegram said only 
 twenty-four hours. Where is Bennie now ? " 
 
 "We will hope, with his heavenly Father," 
 said Mr. Allen, soothingly. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; let us hope ; God is very 
 merciful ! " 
 
 " ' I should be ashamed, father,' Bennie 
 said, ' when I am a man, to think I never 
 used this great right arm ' and he held it 
 out so proudly before me 'for my country, 
 when it needed it. Palsy it rather than 
 keep it at the plow.' 
 
 " ' Go, then, my boy,' I said, ' and God 
 keep you !' God has kept him, I think, Mr. 
 Allan ! " and the farmer repeated these 
 words slowly, as if, in spite of his reason, 
 his heart doubted them. 
 
 " Like the apple of his eye, Mr. Owen ; 
 doubt it not." 
 
 Blossom sat near them listening, with 
 blanched cheek. She had not shed a tear. 
 Her anxiety had been so concealed that no 
 one had noticed it. She had occupied her- 
 self mechanically in the household cares. 
 Now she answered a gentle tap at the 
 kitchen door, opening it to receive from a 
 neighbor's hand a letter. " It is from him," 
 was all she said. 
 
 It was like a message from the dead ! 
 Mr. Owen took the letter, but could not 
 break the envelope, on account of his 
 trembling fingers, and held it toward Mr. 
 Allan, with the helplessness of a child. 
 
 The minister opened it, and read as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 " DEAR FATHER : When this reaches you 
 I shall be in eternity. At first it seemed 
 awful to me ; but I have thought about it 
 so much now, that it has no terror. They 
 say they will not bind me, nor blind me ; 
 but that I may meet my death like a man. 
 I thought, father, it might have been on the 
 battle-field, for my country, and that, when 
 I fell, it would be fighting gloriously ; but 
 to be shot down like a dog for nearly be- 
 traying it to die for neglect of duty ! Oh, 
 father, I wonder that the very thought does 
 not kill me ! But I shall not disgrace you. 
 I am going to write to you all about it; and 
 when I am gone, you may tell my comrades. 
 I cannot now. 
 
 "You know I promised Jemmie Carr's 
 mother I would look after her boy ; and, 
 when he fell sick, I did all I could for him. 
 He was not strong when he was ordered 
 
 o 
 
 back into the ranks, and the day before that 
 night I carried all his luggage, besides my 
 own, on our march. Towards night we 
 went in on double-quick, and though the 
 
HOW BLOSSOM SAVED BENNIE. 
 
 169 
 
 luggage began to feel very heavy every- 
 body else was tired too; and as for Jemmie, 
 if I had not lent him an arm now and then, 
 he would have dropped by the way. I was 
 all tired out when we came into camp, and 
 then it was Jemmie's turn to be sentry, and 
 I would take his place ; but I was too tired, 
 father. I could not have kept awake if a 
 gun had been pointed at my head ; but I 
 did not know it until well, until it was too 
 late." 
 
 " God be thanked ! " interrupted Mr. 
 Owen, reverently. " I knew Bennie was 
 not the boy to sleep carelessly at his post." 
 
 " They tell me to-day that I have a short 
 reprieve, given to me by circumstances 
 * time to write to you,' our good colonel 
 says. Forgive him, father, he only does his 
 duty; he would gladly save me if he could; 
 and do not lay my death up against Jemmie. 
 The poor boy is broken-hearted, and does 
 nothing but beg and entreat them to let 
 him die in my stead. 
 
 " I cannot bear to think of mother and 
 Blossom. Comfort them, father! Tell them 
 I die as a brave boy should, and that, when 
 the war is over, they will not be ashamed 
 of me, as they must be now. God help me; 
 it is very hard to bear ! Good-by, father ! 
 God seems near and dear to me ; not at all 
 as if he wished me to perish forever, but 
 as if he felt sorry for his poor, sinful, broken- 
 hearted child, and would take me to be with 
 aim and my Saviour in a bette better life." 
 
 A deep sigh burst from Mr. Owen's heart. 
 "Amen," he said solemnly, "Amen." 
 
 "To-night, in the early twilight, I shall 
 see the cows all coming home from pasture, 
 and precious little Blossom stand on the 
 back stoop, waiting for me ; but I shall 
 never, never come ! God bless you all ! 
 Forgive your poor Bennie." 
 
 Late that night the door of the "back 
 stoop " opened softly, and a little figure 
 glided out and down the foot-path that led 
 to the road by the mill. She seemed rather 
 flying than walking, turning her head neither 
 to the right nor the left, looking only now 
 and then to Heaven, and folding her hands, 
 as if in prayer. Two hours later the same 
 young girl stood at the Mill Depot, watch- 
 ing the coming of the night train; and the 
 conductor, as he reached down to lift her 
 into the car, wondered at the tear-stained 
 face that was upturned toward the bright 
 lantern he held in his hand. A few ques- 
 tions and ready answers told him all ; and 
 no father could have cared more tenderly 
 for his only child than he for our little Blos- 
 som. She was on her way to Washington, 
 to ask President Lincoln for her brother's 
 life. She had stolen away, leaving only a 
 note to tell where and why she had gone. 
 She had brought Bennie's letter with her ; 
 no good, kind heart, like the President's, 
 could refuse to be melted by it. The next 
 morning they reached New York, and the 
 conductor hurried her on to Washington. 
 Every minute, now, might be the means of 
 saving her brother's life. And so, in an in- 
 credibly short time, Blossom reached the 
 Capital, and hastened immediately to the 
 White House. 
 
 The President had but just seated himself 
 to the task of overlooking and signing im- 
 portant papers, when, without one word of 
 announcement, the door softly opened, and 
 Blossom, with downcast eyes and folded 
 hands, stood before him. 
 
 " Well, my child," he said, in his pleasant, 
 cheerful tones, " what do you want ? " 
 
 " Bennie's life, please, sir!" faltered Blos- 
 som. 
 
 " Bennie ? Who is Bennie ? " 
 
170 
 
 HOW BLOSSOM SAVED BENNIE. 
 
 to 
 
 " My brother, sir. They are going 
 shoot him for sleeping at his post." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; " and Mr. Lincoln ran his eye 
 over the papers before him. " I remember. 
 It was a fatal sleep. You see, child, it was 
 at a rime of special danger. Thousands of 
 lives might have been lost for his culpable 
 negligence." 
 
 man caught eagerly, as ever, at what seemed 
 to be a justification of an offence. 
 
 Blossom went to him ; he put his hand 
 tenderly on her shoulder, and turned up the 
 pale, anxious face towards his. How tall 
 he seemed ! and he was President of the 
 United States, too. 
 
 A dim thought of this kind passed for a 
 
 i.i mi BLOSSOM AND i'ki-.>ii>i-:vr LINCOLN. 
 
 " So my father said," replied Blossom, 
 gravely, " but poor Bennie was so tired, sir, 
 and Jemmie so weak. He did the work of 
 two, sir, and it was Jemmie's night, not his ; 
 but Jemmie was too tired, and Bennie never 
 thought about himself, that he was tired 
 too." 
 
 "What is this you say, child? Conic 
 here ; I do not understand," and the kind 
 
 moment through Blossom's mind ; but she 
 told her simple and straightforward story, 
 and handed Mr. Lincoln Bennie's letter to 
 read. 
 
 He read it carefully ; then, taking up his 
 pen, wrote a few hasty lines, and rang his 
 bell. 
 
 Blossom heard this order given : " Send 
 this dispatch at once'' 
 
HOW BLOSSOM SAVED BENNIE. FISHES' NESTS. 
 
 171 
 
 The President then turned to the girl and 
 said, " Go home, my child, and tell that fa- 
 ther of yours, he who could approve his 
 country's sentence, even when it took the 
 life of a child like that, that Abraham Lin- 
 coln thinks the life far too precious to be 
 lost. Go back, or wait until to-morrow ; 
 Bennie will need a change after he has so 
 bravely faced death ; he shall go with 
 you." 
 
 " God bless you, sir," said Blossom ; and 
 who shall doubt that God heard and regis- 
 tered the request? 
 
 Two days after this interview, the young 
 
 soldier came to the White House with his 
 little sister. He was called into the Presi- 
 dent's private room, and a strap fastened 
 upon the shoulder. Mr. Lincoln then said: 
 " The soldier that could carry a sick com- 
 rade's baggage, and die for the act so un- 
 complainingly, deserves well of his country."" 
 Then Bennie and Blossom took their way 
 to their Green Mountain home. A crowd 
 gathered at the Mill Depot to welcome 
 them back ; and as farmer Owen's hand 
 grasped that of his boy, tears flowed down 
 his cheeks, and he was heard to say fer- 
 vently: ' ' The Lord be praised ! ' ' 
 
 FISHES' NESTS. 
 
 B 
 
 IRDS' nests are well known to every 
 child, but few children have ever seen 
 
 fishes' nests. But fishes need nests as well 
 
 as birds, for they too lay eggs which need 
 to be cared for till the young are hatched. 
 Fishes' eggs are much smaller than birds' 
 eggs, but, while birds lay four or five only, 
 fishes lay several thousand, good samples 
 of which are seen in the roe of shad, with 
 which most children are familiar. 
 
 One of the prettiest of fishes' nests is 
 shown in the picture. It is the home of the 
 Stickelback, and, excepting that it is some- 
 what damp, it must be a lovely place to live. 
 It is made of bits of water-weed and grass 
 carefully wound together, and cemented by 
 a sticky substance which the fish manufact- 
 ures for himself. After mother Stickelback 
 lays her eggs in this pretty nest, father 
 Stickelback goes in and protects them, for 
 other fishes would quickly devour them if 
 they had a chance. 
 
 Many other fishes build nests. The sun- 
 fish scoops out a little pit in the sand at the 
 bottom of the pond or stream. The perch 
 is fond of stealing the nests of a sun-fish. 
 The lamprey eel makes a little cave with 
 
172 
 
 FISHES' NESTS. A SURPRISING SERENADE. 
 
 stones collected and put in place by the anchor theirs to branches of trees which 
 
 power of its great sucker mouth. Some hang into the water. Among the nests of 
 
 sea fishes carry their nests about with them, fishes there is as much variety and skill as 
 
 like baskets, and many fresh water fishes among the nests of birds. 
 
 A SURPRISING SERENADE. 
 
 ONE of the most fashionable summer 
 resorts of America is Newport, sit- 
 uated on an arm of Long Island Sound, in 
 the State of Rhode Island. It is a very 
 popular place with people who are fond of 
 boating, and other water sports. Many 
 wealthy persons who visit there have steam 
 or sailing yachts, on which they spend much 
 time, often with their families, who become 
 very expert in the management of boats, as 
 also in fishing, swimming, and such sports. 
 
 The large vessel on the opposite page is 
 one of these elegant yachts. The young 
 ladies on it are the owner's daughters. 
 Their sailor-like dress is the yachting suit 
 they usually wear on board, and you see 
 they have their pet dog along also. Just 
 beyond the sail is one of the crew, for these 
 yachts carry their cooks, and sailors, and 
 other men needed for the comfort and safety 
 of those on board. 
 
 The small boat, with the poetic name 
 " Squash ! " painted on its stern, and the 
 funny crew it contains, illustrate one of the 
 amusing scenes which often occur at New- 
 port during the gay term there. A party 
 of young gentlemen, friends of the ladies 
 on the yacht, have disguised themselves as 
 
 negro minstrels, and have come out to 
 serenade the yachters. The one in the 
 stern of the boat is rattling the bones ; the 
 banjo player is standing ; he with the big 
 hat plays an accordeon ; and he with the 
 very little hat hammers the tambourine. 
 They do not attempt to make good music, 
 as do the professional minstrels, nor when 
 they sing do they care to sing well, but 
 voices and faces are alike disguised, so that 
 the ladies may be puzzled as to who their 
 visitors are. 
 
 The ladies do look puzzled. Doubtless 
 they guess, and maybe guess correctly, as 
 to the singers, but the height of the fun is 
 in proportion to the concealment of the per- 
 sonality, so that when the young men see 
 fit to disclose themselves it may be a com- 
 plete surprise, and make a merrier out- 
 burst. 
 
 When these merry men have played their 
 tune, and sang their song, they will lift their 
 hats and wigs together, and then they will 
 be welcomed to the deck and cabin of the 
 yacht. Under these baggy suits their usual 
 yachting suits are worn, so that it is only a 
 moment's work to array themselves for good 
 society. A little soap and water will clean 
 their faces, and then a hearty lunch and a 
 cheery chat will close up the visit, after which 
 the " Squash " will carry its transformed 
 crew to their own quarters, none the worse, 
 but all concerned beino- the happier for their 
 funny freak. 
 
A SURPRISING SERENADE. 
 
 173 
 
174 
 
 A TATTOOED MAN. 
 
 A TATTOOED MAN. 
 
 now as it used to be, for 
 Christianity and civiliza- 
 tion have done much to 
 change the old barbarous 
 customs, one of which 
 this process of tattooing 
 was. 
 
 You have seen Indians 
 with paint on their faces. 
 This can readily be 
 washed off and its use 
 does no harm, though 
 certainly it is far from 
 beautiful. Tattooing, 
 however, is a work that 
 cannot be washed off. 
 It is done usually as the 
 youth approaches man- 
 hood, and as a beard 
 among us is a mark of 
 manhood, so is tattooing 
 among those who prac- 
 tice it. 
 
 It is done little by lit- 
 tle, by applying paint in 
 the desired figures and 
 designs, and then prick- 
 ing the skin with an im- 
 mense number of fine 
 needle-points set into 
 wood, so that each touch 
 of the instrument will 
 prick a surface of the 
 flesh about an inch 
 square. This cruel tool 
 is applied till every point 
 
 DON'T be frightened at the looks of of the skin under treatment has been 
 this man. He is simply a fine sample thoroughly pricked, and then the paint is 
 of a stylish young man of the South Sea left to dry into the sore surface. The re- 
 Islands. Suchagetting-up is not so frequent suit is that all the lines of the painting re- 
 
A TATTOOED MAN. CALLING HARD NAMES. 
 
 175 
 
 main permanent in the skin, never washing 
 off or wearing off. 
 
 The process of tattooing is very painful, 
 but those who undergo it do so without a 
 groan or other show of suffering. Some 
 of the paints are more or less poisonous, so 
 that very painful inflammation follows and 
 < the skin after tattooing becomes more or 
 less hardened, as in an ordinary scar, so 
 that the pores do not act and the man can- 
 not perspire. In this case the tattooed man 
 suffers terribly from heat and can never 
 endure much exertion. But yet a man who 
 
 endured all this, among the South Sea 
 Islanders, was esteemed a hero. Men, 
 women and children gazed at him in admira- 
 tion. * 
 
 The horns on this man's head are simply 
 his hair done up in the highest style. His 
 club, canoe and paddle are shown with him. 
 Tattooed men are not very good patrons of 
 the clothing dealers, nor would they be 
 overly happy in a cold climate ; but even in 
 the South Sea Islands they are very few, 
 and not many of their young men follow 
 this horrible fashion. 
 
 CALLING HARD NAMES. 
 
 Little Betsy Blizzard owned a pretty doll ; 
 Right across the street from her there lived a talk- 
 ing poll. 
 
 Polly said that dolly was a painted, ugly thing ; 
 Betsy said the polly was a fright and couldn't 
 sing. 
 
 WHICH WILL GET IT? 
 
170 
 
 FLAYING WITH THE PRINCE. 
 
 PLAYING WITH THE PRINCE. 
 
 THE bright-faced little fellow in the 
 picture opposite is supposed to be a 
 prince. He lived many years ago in Den- 
 mark, and his name was Hamlet. 
 
 What we know about Hamlet does not 
 come down to us in any very well-settled 
 history, but there were many stories, or 
 traditions about him, which by and by were 
 worked into poems and anecdotes, which at 
 last were ^ai^red by the great writer, 
 Shakespeare, and fashioned into his great 
 tragedy, Hamlet, which to this day is one 
 of the most popular plays known to our 
 theatres. 
 
 But who is the queerly dressed man on 
 whose shoulders little Hamlet sits? Not 
 his father, nor his uncle, but Yorick, a very 
 funny man, whom Hamlet's father kept at 
 the palace simply to make fun. He was 
 called the "king's fool," or the "court 
 jester," and was in the old palaces and 
 homes of rich men what the clown now is 
 in the ordinary circus. 
 
 The "Punch" on a stick, with which the 
 dog is playing, was Yorick's sceptre. As 
 kings then carried sceptres, to show their 
 rank and authority, so the king's fool carried 
 some such queer, ridiculous emblem as this 
 " Punch." Notice the bells on Yorick's cap 
 and coat. How merry little Hamlet must 
 have enjoyed their tinkle as he and Yorick 
 romped, just as tinkling bells please chil- 
 dren now among us. 
 
 Many years after this play of the picture 
 was over, when Hamlet was a grown man, 
 and Yorick had long been dead, Shakespeare 
 represents Hamlet, with his friend Horatio, 
 as wandering in an old grave-yard, and 
 stopping to look at a grave-digger at his 
 work. As they stood by the grave the 
 
 digger threw out a skull, and on Hamlet's 
 asking whose it was, and being told it was 
 Yorick's, he broke forth into a sad utter- 
 ance in praise of the old jester, with whom 
 he had so often romped and laughed, when 
 the Prince himself was a merry-hearted 
 little boy. 
 
 "Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio," 
 
 is the sentiment with which Hamlet begins 
 his tender address as he looks on the skull 
 of his old entertainer. 
 
 Holding the skull in his hand, he con- 
 tinues his address in these words : 
 
 "A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; 
 He hath borne me on his back a thousand times; 
 Here hung those lips that I have kissed 
 
 I know not how oft 
 
 Where be your jibes now ? Your gambols ? 
 Your songs ? Your flashes of merriment, 
 That were wont to set the table on a roar? 
 Not one now, to mock your own grinning? " 
 
 Poor Yorick's merry-making was all over. 
 He had ended his last romp, and uttered 
 his last joke, but the little boy of his jovial 
 life, now the mature and melancholy man, 
 looked with kindly feelings on the memories 
 of the days that Yorick had for him made 
 so delightful. 
 
 The lesson from this picture and its his- 
 tory for older people is, that they win such 
 places in children's hearts that they shall 
 always be remembered with tenderness. 
 To do this they need not act the clown, but 
 they must be the sympathetic friend. 
 
 For little folks the lesson is, never forget 
 those who do what they can to make your 
 childhood happy. While they live honor 
 and cheer them, and when they have gone 
 let your reminiscences be in their praise. 
 
YORICK PLAYING WITH THE PRINCE. 
 
 177 
 
ITS THE ADVENTURES OF ROBBIE AND BOBBIE. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF ROBBIE AND BOBBIE. 
 
 BY MRS. A. M. DIAZ. 
 
 A SMALL boy named Robbie had a They all ran to Mr. Pope's store", the two 
 
 small cousin named Bobbie, and one small cousins coming last, and got chips to 
 
 afternoon Bobbie went to visit Robbie, and scrape with, and then took turns creeping 
 
 Robbie's mother said they might play out into the hogshead, two at a time, to scrape 
 
 doors. off the molasses sugar. Robbie and Bobbie 
 
 After running far along the road, gather- went in together. Every two boys stayed 
 
 ing dandelions by the wayside, they saw in while the others counted forty aloud, 
 
 near a stone wall four nice little heaps of Before the sugar was wholly scraped off, 
 
 earth, smoothed and patted. They wished Mr. Pope's man drove up with a horse and 
 
 to know what was inside, and got sticks to cart to take the hogshead away to a man 
 
 dig with ; but no sooner had they begun to who was going to place it at a corner of his 
 
 dig than they heard a shout: house for catching rain-water. 
 
 " Hallo, there ! Hallo ! " As Mr. Pope's man drove away with the 
 
 They turned and saw a man coming from hogshead, an old peddler passed by on his 
 
 a house some way back from the road, way to the next town, dragging a hand- 
 
 shakino- his fist at them. cart in which were tin ware, wooden ware, 
 
 o 
 
 " Off with you ! Off, I say ! Something small brooms and essences. A bad boy 
 
 planted!" named Joe followed the peddler, laughing 
 
 This man's wife had planted there some and making fun of him, and then the other 
 
 seeds of the California Galloping Cucum- boys did the same. The poor old peddler 
 
 ber, hoping that the vines might come up looked at them in a sorrowful way, but said 
 
 and cover the wall. not a word. Seeing this, one of them cried 
 
 The small cousins were afraid of the man, out to the rest: 
 
 and they ran, and ran, and ran, and pres- " I say, let's help him ! let's give him a 
 
 ently they came to some boys a size larger push !' 
 
 than themselves, sitting on a bank, whittling "All right!" said the others; and then 
 
 out chip boats. At the same moment a boy three or four pushed the cart, while three or 
 
 two sizes larger than these boys passed by four more went in front and helped pull, 
 
 and said as he passed : Joe was one of the pushers. As Robbie 
 
 "Why don't you all go and get some mo- and Bobbie could not get their hands upon 
 
 lasses sugar?" the cart, they pushed the pushers; and 
 
 " Where ! Where ! Where !" they shouted presently they saw that while Joe made be- 
 after him. lieve push, he leaned upon the cart and 
 
 " Don't you know that Mr. Pope has an lifted his feet off the ground, and they 
 
 empty molasses hogshead out doors?" called out: 
 
 "No! No! No! No !" they cried, spring- "Joe is only making believe push! he 
 
 ing up. keeps getting a ride !" 
 
 "Run quick!" cried the boy two sizes Then the other boys cried: "Shame! 
 
 larger. "You'll get some." Shame! " and hustled Joe off the cart, and 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF ROBBIE AND BOBBIE. 
 
 179 
 
 he ran away, and as he ran they shouted : 
 "Shirker! Shirker!" then turned and kept 
 on with the peddler. 
 
 Presently Joe came up behind and threw 
 Robbie and E^bbie down in the sand, and 
 ran away again. They cried, and the other 
 boys stopped, and the old peddler stopped ; 
 and the old peddler looked a long time in 
 his cart, and at last he took out from a 
 paste-board box two very small glass vials 
 of essence of peppermint, and said it would 
 be good to put on their handkerchiefs, and 
 
 When Mr. Pope's man was taking it to 
 the man who was to use it for a rain-water 
 hogshead, the cart broke down, and Mr. 
 Pope's man rolled the hogshead against the 
 stone wall and left it there. 
 
 Just as the small cousins came in sight of 
 this molasses hogshead they saw the man 
 who shook his fist at them when they began 
 to dig up the seeds of the California Gal- 
 loping Cucumber vine. He was coming 
 from his house very fast, holding something 
 which looked like a big stick. 
 
 \ 
 
 wrapped a good deal of grass around the 
 vials, and gave one to Robbie and one to 
 Bobbie. The small cousins smiled and for- 
 got to say thank you, and put the vials in the 
 breast-pockets of their frocks, then turned 
 to go home, for they were very far away. X 
 Now, when they came in sight of the 
 stone wall near which they began to dig up 
 the Galloping California Cucumber vine 
 seed the man's wife had planted, they saw 
 close up to that stone wall a hogshead. 
 
 12 
 
 Now, this man was the very man who 
 had bought Mr. Pope's molasses hogshead 
 to catch rain-water in, and the thing which 
 looked like a big stick was a piece of lead 
 pipe, which he was going to fasten to his 
 rain-water spout, and he stepped quick be- 
 cause it was beginning to rain. This is the 
 most interesting part of the whole story, as 
 will be seen presently. 
 
 The small cousins were afraid of the man, 
 and ran and hid in the molasses hogshead 
 
180 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF ROBBIE AND BOIJUIK. 
 
 and picked off what sugar had been left on ; 
 and while they did this the rain began to 
 pour and to make a loud noise upon the 
 hogshead. They crept in to the far end, 
 and at last, when they had been waiting 
 long, they leaned their heads against each 
 other, and whoever had looked in there a 
 few minutes after would have seen two 
 small, damp, sugary boys fast asleep. 
 
 The part that is going to be told now is 
 the most interesting part of the most inter- 
 esting part of the whole story. 
 
 When the man who had bought Mr. 
 Pope's molasses hogshead to catch rain- 
 water in had made ready his water-spout, 
 and the rain had ceased, he went to roll his 
 hogshead home, and, being in a hurry, he 
 gave it a kick which sent it rolling over. 
 Strange sounds came from the inside, and 
 as it stopped there crept out from it the 
 poor little hiders, scared half out of their 
 wits, and more scared than ever when they 
 saw the man who had made them stop dig- 
 ging up the seeds of the Galloping Cali- 
 fornia Cucumber vine. 
 
 " How came you in there ? " said the man, 
 talking very fast. " Don't cry ! Any bones 
 broken ? Can you jump ? Can you clap 
 your hands ? Try, now ! " 
 
 He set them jumping and clapping, and 
 finding no bones broken told them to go 
 home as fast as they could go. 
 
 They went home as fast as they could go; 
 but it must be mentioned here that, just as 
 they were starting, they felt a sort of wet 
 feeling near their breast-pockets. This wet 
 
 feeling was caused by the breaking of the 
 essence of peppermint vials, and the es- 
 sence of peppermint soaking through. 
 
 Our small travellers soon reached home, 
 but, knowing how damp and sugary their 
 clothes were, they felt ashamed to go in, 
 and waited out in the shed. Robbie's 
 mother had just asked his father to go and 
 find them, for it was then after supper. He 
 went out, and in passing through the shed 
 smellecl a strong smell of peppermint, and 
 turning to find where it came from, spied 
 the boys quite near him, crouching behind 
 some barrels. 
 
 Without saying anything to them he went 
 in and asked his wife if she had a large 
 baking-pan. 
 
 " How large ? " she asked. 
 
 " Large enough for baking two Ginger- 
 . bread Boys," he answered. 
 
 " How large are your Gingerbread Boys?" 
 
 " I'll show you," he said, and went out, 
 and soon came back leading the small 
 cousins. " Here are my Gingerbread Boys ! " 
 said he. " They are rather soft. They will 
 need a hot oven." 
 
 "Peppermint Boys, I should think! "cried 
 his wife, sniffing ; and by this time every- 
 body in the room was sniffing, and laugh- 
 ing, and asking questions. The small 
 cousins drew from their breast-pockets the 
 upper parts of the peppermint vials/ with 
 the corks still in them. 
 
 While they ate their supper they told 
 their story ; but Robbie's mother would not 
 let them lean against her table-cloth. 
 
THE GREAT RACE. 
 
 181 
 
 THE GREAT RACE. 
 
 BY F. E. T. 
 
 EVERY bird, insect and flower, within a 
 hundred miles, had been talking 
 about it all Summer. The leaves were so 
 excited that they couldn't stand still, and 
 even the cross old crows, who do nothing 
 but scold, had promised their young ones, 
 that if they would be very good little crows 
 
 want to make a stir in the world, all you 
 have to do is to get on the right side of the 
 Wind ; he'll make you fly, I can tell you." 
 
 " That is just the reason they make him 
 umpire," replied the first ; " he will urge on 
 the laggards, they say, and keep things in 
 general disorder, which you know is the 
 
 for a whole month they should be taken to 
 to see the race. 
 
 " Yes," said one wily old owl to the other, 
 as they retired for the day ; " yes, I heard 
 one of the District Telegraph mice say that 
 the Wind was going to be umpire." 
 
 "Humph," returned the other, "the 
 Wind! they just choose him because he 
 blows so much. I tell you, my dear, if you 
 
 most important thing in the whole race; 
 and, for my part, I greatly approve their 
 taste in choosing him." 
 
 " Well, if you think so, I've nothing more 
 to say ; but if I get a chance I shall tell 
 them what I think of him." 
 
 With that she flounced off, leaving her 
 companion to wonder over the peculiarities 
 of fowl nature, as she retired to her nest in 
 
182 
 
 THE GREAT RACE. 
 
 an old well, where 
 the moon made 
 faces at her over 
 the brink. 
 
 The race was 
 to be between the Leaves. 
 Every tree in the forest 
 sent a delegate, and it was 
 whispered by a gossiping young 
 squirrel that the rivalry in cos- 
 tume would be something per- 
 fectly wonderful. 
 
 " Old Oak's daughter," he said, 
 "who has been dancing and flirt- 
 ing all Summer, is to appear in an elegant 
 maroon dress just from Robin Redbreast's ; 
 and all because Monsieur Jack Frost says 
 maroon is oine to be fashionable this 
 
 winter. But it is absurd of her to try, for, 
 of course, she'll never win the race!" 
 
 At last the day arrived, and a finer day 
 for a race had never been seen. Monsieur 
 
 Frost had been out that morning, talk- 
 ing about fashions to such an extent 
 that everybody's cheeks were very red, 
 and some had even 
 blushed up to their 
 noses. I suppose it 
 was because their clothes 
 were not in the latest 
 style ; I'm sure I don't 
 know of any other rea- 
 son. 
 
 Old Wind was up 
 
 bright and early, too, and making such a 
 noise and confusion in sweeping off the 
 course that no one could help 
 knowing he was going to be 
 umpire. 
 
 The crowd began to assemble 
 long before the race began, and, 
 when the time arrived, the grand 
 stand was so packed that some of the 
 nobility were obliged to have toad-stools 
 set in the aisle for them. These being too 
 hard for many of the ladies (who still in- 
 sisted upon staying), the manager, Mr. Fall 
 Season, ordered several of the District 
 Telegraph mice to lie down as seats ; they 
 proved very soft, and the ladies, now bein<^ 
 comfortable, began to talk with their friends. 
 " Dear me," said Lady Daisy to the styl- 
 ish Lord Rabbit, who sat next to her, " do 
 look at that snobbish young Maple ! I can 
 cell, by the conceited way in which he leans 
 against that cobweb, that he thinks he is 
 going to win the race. I hear he is a great 
 trial to his parents with his extravagant 
 habits ; just see his green waistcoat and 
 yellow knee-breeches ; I'm thankful my sons 
 dress plainly!" 
 
 " Oh, he's young yet, he's young yet," said 
 Lord Rabbit, as he smoothed down his soft fur 
 waistcoat and thought of his own silly youth. 
 
THE GREAT RACE. 
 
 183 
 
 " Now, there's his cousin, young Ash," very excited, jumped up and, shouting that 
 said Lady Daisy, " with a new suit of crim- he was umpire no longer, rushed after 
 son and brown. I fully approve of him, as them. 
 
 they say his father is a millionaire." They reached the goal, but could not 
 
 Lord Rabbit was just going to reply, stop, for old Wind was behind them, and 
 
 the Trees, and the Birds, and the very Air, 
 shouted : 
 
 " He's mad ! he's mad ! ! " 
 
 when the blue-bell sounded the signal tp 
 start, and the race began. 
 
 And what a race it was ! 
 
 Helter-skelter, away they went ! over and 
 over ! leaping high into the air, then falling 
 low into the dust, until old Wind, getting 
 
 Little Ted Williams sat on a flower-pot, 
 making a jolly mud-pie, when he chanced to 
 look up, and lo ! in the distance he saw a 
 great heap of Leaves blown by the Wind. 
 As they passed him he caught the foremost 
 of them a deep-red oak-leaf and put it 
 in his hat. His mother said the color of it 
 was maroon, the fashionable shade this 
 Winter; but nobody heard the Birds and 
 the Flowers say to a little gray squirrel, who 
 was sitting on the rail fence : 
 
 " Old Oak's daughter won the race, after 
 all. Just let your cousin know, will 
 you?" 
 
 WHITEWASHING THE BABY. 
 
184 
 
 THE LITTLE RID HIN -AND THE FOX. 
 
 THE LITTLE RID HIN AND THE FOX. 
 
 BY MRS. WHITNEY. 
 
 WELL, thin, there was once't upon a 
 time, away off in the ould country, 
 livin' all her lane in the woods, in a wee bit 
 iv a house be herself, a little rid hin. Nice 
 an' quiet she was, and niver did no kind o' 
 harrum in her life. An' there lived out over 
 the hill, in a din o' the rocks, a crafty ould 
 felly iv a fox. An' this same ould villian iv 
 a fox, he laid awake o' nights, and he prowled 
 round slyly iv a day-time, thinkin' always so 
 busy how he'd git the little rid hin, an' carry 
 her home an' bile her up for his shupper. 
 But the wise little rid hin niver went intil 
 her bit iv a house, but she locked the door 
 afther her, and pit the kay in her pocket. 
 So the ould rashkill iv a fox, he watched, 
 an' he prowled, an' he laid awake nights, till 
 he came all to skin an' bone, an' sorra a 
 ha'porth o' the little rid hin could he git at. 
 But at lasht there came a shcame intil his 
 wicked ould head, and he tuk a big bag 
 one mornin', over his shouldher, an' he says 
 till his mother, says he, " Mother, have the 
 pot all bilin' agin' I come home, for I'll bring 
 the little rid hin to-night for our shupper." 
 An' away he wint, over the hill, an' came 
 crapin' shyly an' soft through the woods to/ 
 where the little rid hin lived in her shnug 
 bit iv a house. An' shure, jist at the very 
 minute that he got along, out comes the 
 little rid hin out iv the door, to pick up 
 shticks to bile her tay-kettle. " Begorra, 
 now, but I'll have yees," says the shly ould 
 fox, an' in he shlips, unbeknownst, intil the 
 house, an' hides behind the door. An' in 
 comes the little rid hin, a minute afther, 
 with her apron full of shticks, an' shuts to 
 the door an' locks it, an' pits the kay in her 
 pocket. An' thin she turns round an' 
 
 there shtands the baste iv a fox in the 
 corner. Well, thin, what did she do, but 
 jist dhrop down her shticks, and fly up in 
 a great fright and flutter to the big bame 
 acrass inside o' the roof, where the fox 
 couldn't git at her! 
 
 " Ah, ha ! " says the ould fox, " I'll soon 
 bring yees down out o' that!" An' he 
 began to whirrul round, an' round, an' round, 
 fashter, an' fashter, an' fashter, on the floor, 
 afther his big, bushy tail, till the little rid hin 
 got so dizzy wid lookin', that she jist tumbled 
 down aff the bame, and the fox whipped her 
 up and popped her intil his bag, an' shtarted 
 off home in a minute. An' he wint up the 
 wood, an' down the wood, half the day long, 
 with the little rid hin shut up shmotherin' in 
 the bag. Sorra a know she knowd where 
 she was at all, at all. She thought she was 
 all biled an' ate up, an' finished shure! But, 
 by an' by, she remimbered herself, an' pit 
 her hand in her pocket, an' tuk out her little 
 bright scissors, an' shnipped a big hole in 
 the bag behind, an' out she leapt, an' picked 
 up a big shtone an' popped it intil the bag, 
 an' rin aff home, an' locked the door. 
 
 An' the fox he tugged away up over the 
 hill, with the big shtone at his back thumpin' 
 his shouldhers, thinkin' to himself how heavy 
 the little rid hin was, an' what a fine shupper 
 he'd have. An' whin he came in sight iv his 
 din in the rocks, and shpied his ould mother 
 a watchin' for him at the door, he says, 
 " Mother ! have ye the pot bilin' ? " An' the 
 ould mother says, "Sure an' it is; an' have 
 ye the little rid hin?" "Yes, jist here in 
 me bag. Open the lid o' the pot till I pit 
 her in," says he. 
 
 An' the ould mother fox she lifted the lid 
 
THE FOX IN THE HEN-HOUSE. 
 
186 
 
 THE LITTLE RID HIN AND THE FOX. THE REAL CINDERELLA. 
 
 o' the pot, an' the rashkill untied the bag, bilin' water shplashed up all over the rogue 
 an' hild it over the pot o' bilin' wather, an' iv a fox, an' his mother, an' shcalded them 
 shuk in the big, heavy shtone. An' the both to death. 
 
 THE REAL CINDERELLA. 
 
 CINDERELLA'S real name was Rho- 
 dope, and she was a beautiful Egyp- 
 tian maiden, who lived 670 years before the 
 common era, and during the reign of Psam- 
 meticus. One day Rhodope ventured to go 
 in bathing in a clear stream near her home, 
 and meanwhile left her shoes, which must 
 have been unusually small, lying on the 
 bank. An eagle, passing above, chanced to 
 catch sight of the little sandals, and mistak- 
 ing them for a toothsome tidbit, pounced 
 down and carried one off- in his beak. 
 
 The bird then unwittingly played the part 
 of fairy godmother, for, flying directly over 
 Memphis, where King Psammeticus was 
 
 dispensing justice, it let the shoe fall right 
 into the king's lap. Its size, beauty and 
 daintiness immediately attracted the royal 
 eye, and the king determined upon knowing 
 the wearer of so cunning a shoe, sent through 
 all his kingdom in search of the foot that 
 would fit it. 
 
 As in the story of Cinderella, the messen- 
 gers finally discovered Rhodope, fitted on 
 the shoe, and carried her in triumph to 
 Memphis, where she became the Queen 
 of King Psammeticus, and thus the founda- 
 tion of a fairy tale that was to delight the 
 boys and girls for 2500 years later was 
 begun. 
 
 THE T)ME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS IS COME 
 
PLAYING SOLDIER. 
 
 187 
 
 PLAYING SOLDIER. 
 
 HA, HA ! Here they come. Sam too little to run out in the wet, so Sam 
 
 with his drum and soldier hat ; said he would stay in and play with them, 
 
 little Ed on his toy horse, but proudly A good brother, wasn't he? So the little 
 
 blowing his tin trumpet and wearing his ones thought, for that day they marched, 
 
 paper hat; baby Bess with the only gun 
 in the company, and dragging her horse 
 behind her, while Roy, the favorite dog, 
 greets the advancing host, and makes up 
 the admiring crowd which sees the fine 
 parade. 
 
 It was a rainy day. Ed and Bess were 
 
 and had sham battles, and had lots of fun, 
 though their mother said they had driven 
 her almost wild with the drum, and the 
 horn, and the dog, and the hurrahs. But 
 children must have fun, and these children, 
 did have it that day to their heart's con- 
 tent. 
 
188 
 
 THE PET LAMB. THE LITTLE PIG AND THE DOGS. 
 
 THE PET LAMB. 
 
 MY darling pet, 
 You iiui.st not fret, 
 The cold will soon be going, 
 And o'er the hills, 
 And by the rills, 
 The gentle wind be blowing; 
 
 And flowers will spring, 
 
 And birds will sing, 
 To tell that summer's coming; 
 
 And down the dales, 
 
 And through the vales, 
 The bees will soon be humming. 
 
 My pretty dear, 
 
 You've nought to fear, 
 While you have me beside you; 
 
 Your mother's dead, 
 
 But, in her stead, 
 I'll guard and teed and guide you. 
 
 THE LITTLE PIG AND THE DOGS. 
 
 A 
 
 LITTLE pig in his little pen 
 
 Went rooting all around ; 
 He rooted here, and he rooted there, 
 
 Until a hole he found. 
 
 This little pig from his little pen 
 
 Did squeeze himself that day ; 
 He first 'looked here, and then looked there, 
 
 And then he ran away. 
 
 This little pig from his little pen 
 
 Ran fast he knew not when ; 
 lie ran right straight through an open gate 
 
 And found dogs sleeping there. 
 
 He looked at them, they looked at him, 
 And neither spoke a word ; 
 
 Till one by one that crowd of dogs 
 From sleep themselves bestirred. 
 
 This little pig was awful scared; 
 
 lie turned himself to run; 
 But all the dogs went after him 
 
 And thought it jolly fun. 
 
 They chased him up, they chased him down, 
 
 They chased him all around; 
 Until this little frightened pig 
 
 His own sweet pen had found. 
 
 He found the hole and squeezed himself 
 
 Back in the pretty pen, 
 And told the gentle mother pig 
 
 He'd never roam again. 
 
I'.IO 
 
 GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDKKsi:\. 
 
 GRANDMOTHER is very old, her face 
 is wrinkled, and her hair is quite 
 white ; but her eyes are like two stars, and 
 they have a mild, gentle expression in them 
 when they look at you, which does you 
 good. She wears a dress of heavy, rich 
 silk, and it rustles when she moves. On 
 her head she wears a white cap, and 
 sometimes puts on odd-looking old 
 spectacles. And then she can tell the 
 most wonderful stories. 
 
 Grandmother knows a great deal, 
 for she was alive before father and 
 mother that's quite certain. She has 
 a big, old book, in which she often 
 reads ; and in the book, between the 
 leaves, lies a rose, quite flat and dry ; 
 it is not so pretty as the roses which 
 are standing in the glass, and yet she 
 smiles most pleasantly, and tears even 
 come into her eyes. 
 
 "I wonder why grandmother looks 
 at the withered flower in the old book 
 in that way? Do you know?" Why, 
 when grandmother's tears fall upon the 
 rose, and she is looking at it, the rose 
 revives and fills the room with its 
 fragrance ; the walls vanish as in a mist, 
 and all around her is the glorious green 
 wood, where in summer the sunlight 
 streams through thick foliage ; and grand- 
 mother why she is young again, a charming 
 maiden, fresh as a rose, with round, rosy 
 cheeks, fair, bright ringlets, and a figure 
 pretty and graceful ; but the eyes, those 
 mild, saintly eyes, are the same they have 
 been left to grandmother. 
 
 At her side sits a young man, tall and 
 strong; he gives her a rose and she smiles. 
 
 Grandmother cannot smile like that now. 
 Yes, she is smiling at the memory of that 
 day and many thoughts and recollections 
 of the past ; but the handsome young man 
 is gone, and the rose has withered in the 
 
 
 old book ; and grandmother is sitting there, 
 again an old woman, looking down at the 
 withered rose in the book. 
 
 Grandmother is dead now. She had been 
 sitting in her arm-chair, telling us a beauti- 
 ful tale ; and when it was finished, she said 
 she was tired, and leaned her head back to 
 sleep awhile. We could hear her gentle 
 breathing as she slept ; gradually it became 
 
GRANDMOTHER. LEARNING TO PRAY. 
 
 191 
 
 quieter and calmer, and on her countenance closed ; but every wrinkle had vanished, her 
 
 beamed happiness and peace. It was as if hair looked white and silvery, and around 
 
 lighted up with a ray of sunshine. She her mouth lingered a sweet smile. The 
 
 smiled once more, and then people said she book, in which the rose still lay, was placed 
 
 was dead. She was laid in a black coffin, under her head, for so she had wished it, 
 
 looking mild and beautiful in the white folds and then they buried grandmother and we 
 
 of the shrouded linen, though her eyes were children saw her no more. 
 
 LEARNING TO PRAY. 
 
 BY MARY MAPES DODGE. 
 
 TV^NEELING fair in the twilight gray, 
 -I X. A beautiful child was trying to pray ; 
 His cheek on his mother's knee, 
 t His bare little feet half hidden, 
 
 His smile still coming unbidden, 
 And his heart brimful of glee. 
 
 Clasping his hands and hiding his face, 
 
 Unconsciously yearning for help and grace, 
 
 The little one now began ; 
 
 His mother's nod and sanction sweet 
 Had led him close to the dear Lord's feet, 
 
 And his words like music ran : 
 
 " I want to laugh. Is it naughty ? Say- 
 
 mamma ! I've had such fun to-day 
 
 1 hardly can say my prayers. 
 
 I don't feel just like praying; 
 I want to be out-doors playing, 
 And run, all undressed, down-stairs. 
 
 " Thank you for making this home so nice, 
 The flowers and my two white mice 
 I wish I could keep right on ; 
 
 I thank you, too, for every day 
 Only I'm most too glad to pray. 
 Dear God, I think I'm done. 
 
 " I can see the flowers in the garden-bed, 
 Shining so pretty, and sweet, and red ; 
 And Sammy is swinging, I guess. 
 Oh ! everything is fine out there, 
 I want to put it all in the prayer 
 Do you mean I can do it by ' Yes ?' 
 
 " Now, mamma, rock me just a minute 
 And sing the hymn with ' darling ' in it. 
 I wish I could say my prayers ! 
 
 When I get big, I know I can. 
 
 Oh ! wont it be nice to be a man, 
 And stay all night down-stairs ! " 
 
 " When I say, ' Now I lay me,' word for word, 
 It seems to me as if nobody heard. 
 Would 'Thank you, dear God,' be right? 
 
 He gave me my mammy, 
 
 And papa, and Sammy 
 O mamma ! you nodded I might." 
 
 The mother, singing, clasped him tight, 
 
 Kissing and cooing her fond " Good-night," 
 
 And treasured his every word ; 
 
 For well she knew that the artless joy 
 And love of her precious, innocent boy, 
 
 Were a prayer that her Lord had heard. 
 
192 
 
 JOEY SHARP'S SONG. FUN ON THE TOBOGGAN. 
 
 JOKY SHARP'S SONG. 
 
 " Have you any pots to mend, have you any 
 
 pans? 
 
 Any old umbrellas, any mugs or cans ? 
 Or any tin tea-kettles, leaky at the spout ? 
 Here comes famous Joey Sharp ! go and bring 
 
 them out. 
 
 " Have you any scissors? no matter great or small, 
 Any knives or edge tools ? then go and fetch them 
 
 all. 
 
 If you place them in my care I can promise you 
 I will grind or mend them, and make them good 
 
 as new." 
 
 This is Joey Sharp's song, and the people round 
 
 ROUND about the city, through the crowded Know he's coming when they hear its melancholy 
 streets, sound ; 
 
 Of the many funny men that a body meets Out they come with pots and pans, knives and 
 None is more remarkable than old Joey Sharp, scissors, too, 
 
 Thrumming on this old song, as on a tuneless And Joey does them up so nice, they look as good 
 harp: as new. 
 
 FUN ON THE TOBOGGAN. 
 
 ALL children in cold climates know what 
 " coasting " is, but for others who do 
 not know it may be explained as sliding 
 down snow and ice-covered hills on sleds 
 steered by the foot of the rider or by some 
 other contrivance. 
 
 The toboggan is a sled made, not with 
 runners, as are our ordinary sleighs, but of 
 a flat, flexible board turned up at "its front 
 end and capable, from its broad, flat bot- 
 tom, of sliding over soft snow where run- 
 ners would cut through and stick hope- 
 lessly. Such sleds have long been used in 
 Canada and are just now fairly creeping 
 over into the United States and coming 
 into use among us. The odd name comes 
 from the word Indians use for their sleds 
 odabagan. 
 
 Where the climate is cold enough to war- 
 rant it hillsides, and even artificial inclines, 
 
 are prepared where this grand fun can be 
 enjoyed. 
 
THE MERRY TOBOGGAN SLIDERS. 
 
 193 
 
I'M 
 
 TAKINC, CAKK < >K A IIORSK. 
 
 TAKING CARE OF A HORSE. 
 
 BY J. M. RAIMA'. 
 
 I "HE other morning at breakfast Mrs. 
 
 X Perkins observed that Mr. Stiver, in 
 
 whose house we live, had been called away 
 
 and wanted to know if I would see to his 
 
 horse through the day. 
 
 I knew that Mr. Stiver owned a horse, 
 because I occasionally saw him drive out of 
 the yard, and I saw the stable every day ; 
 but what kind of a horse I didn't know. I 
 never went into the stable for two reasons : 
 in the first place, I had no desire to ; and, 
 secondly, I didn't know as the horse cared 
 particularly for company. 
 
 I never took care of a horse in my life, 
 and had I been of a less hopeful nature, the 
 charge Mr. Stiver had left with me might 
 have had a very depressing effect ; but I 
 told Mrs. Perkins I would do it. 
 
 " You know how to take care of a horse, 
 don't you ? " said she. 
 
 I gave her a reassuring wink. In fact, I 
 knew so little about it that I didn't think it 
 safe to converse more fluently than by 
 winks. 
 
 After breakfast I seized a toothpick and 
 walked out toward the stable. There was 
 nothing particular to do, as Stiver had given 
 him his breakfast, and I found him eating it; 
 so I looked around. The horse looked 
 around, too, and stared pretty hard at me. 
 There was but little said on either side. I 
 hunted up the location of the feed, and then 
 sat down on a peck measure and fell to 
 studying the beast. There is a wide dif- 
 ference in horses. Some of them will kick 
 you over and never look around to see what 
 becomes of you. I don't like a disposition 
 like that, and I wondered if Stiver's horse 
 was one of them. 
 
 When I came home at noon I went straight 
 
 o 
 
 to the stable. The animal was there all right. 
 Stiver hadn't told me what to give him for 
 dinner, and I had not given the subject any 
 thought ; but I went to the oat box and 
 filled the peck measure, and sallied up to 
 the manger. 
 
 When he saw the oats he almost smiled ; 
 this pleased and amused him. I emptied 
 them into the trough, and left him above 
 me to admire the way I parted my hair be- 
 hind. I just got my head up in time to save 
 the whole of it. He had his ears back, his 
 mouth open, and looked as if he were on 
 the point of committing murder. I went 
 out and filled the measure again, and 
 climbed up the side of the stall and emptied 
 it on top of him. He brought his head up 
 so suddenly at this that I immediately got 
 down, letting go of everything to do it. I 
 struck on the sharp edge of a barrel, rolled 
 over a couple of times, and then disap- 
 peared under a hay-cutter. The peck 
 measure went down on the other side, and 
 got mysteriously tangled up in that animal's 
 heels, and he went to work at it, and .then 
 ensued the most dreadful noise I ever heard 
 in all my life, and I have been married eigh- 
 teen years. 
 
 It did seem as if I never would get out 
 from tinder that hay-cutter; and all the 
 while I was struggling and wrenching my- 
 self and the cutter apart, that awful beast 
 was kicking around in that stall and making 
 the most appalling sound imaginable. 
 
 When I got out I found Mrs. Perkins at 
 the door. She had heard the racket and 
 had sped out to the stable, her only thought 
 being of me and three stove-lids which she 
 
TAKING CARE OF A HORSE. 
 
 195 
 
 had under her arm, and one of which she 
 was about to fire at the beast. 
 This made me mad. 
 
 " Go away, you unfortunate idiot," I 
 shouted: "do you want to knock my brains 
 
 out ? " For I re- 
 membered seeing 
 Mrs. Perkins sling 
 
 o 
 
 a missile once be- 
 fore, and that I near- 
 ly lost an eye by the 
 operation, although 
 standingon the other 
 side of the house at 
 the time. 
 
 She retired at 
 once. And at the 
 same time the ani- 
 mal quieted down, 
 but there was noth- 
 ing left of that peck 
 measure, not even 
 the maker's name. 
 
 I followed Mrs. 
 Perkins into the 
 house, and had her 
 do me up, and then 
 sat down in a chair, and fell into a profound 
 strain of meditation. After a while I felt 
 better and went out to the stable again. 
 The horse was leaning against the stable 
 stall, with eyes half closed, and appeared to 
 be very much engrossed in thought. 
 
 " Step off to the left," I said, rubbing his 
 back. 
 
 He didn't step. I got the pitchfork and 
 punched him in the leg with the handle. 
 He immediately raised up both hind-legs at 
 once, and that fork flew out of my hands, 
 and went rattling up against the timbers 
 above, and came down again in an instant, 
 the end of the handle rapping me with such 
 
 13 
 
 force on the top of the head that I sat right 
 down on the floor under the impression 
 that I was standing- in front of a drug store 
 
 o o 
 
 in the evening. I went back to the house 
 and got some more stuff on me. But I 
 couldn't keep away from that stable. I 
 went out there again. The thought struck 
 me that what the horse wanted was exer- 
 cise. If that thought had been an empty 
 glycerine can, it would have saved a wind- 
 fall of luck for me. 
 
 But exercise would tone him down, and 
 exercise him I should. I laughed to my- 
 self to think how I would trounce him 
 around the yard. I didn't laugh again that 
 afternoon. I got him unhitched, and then 
 wondered how I was to get him out of the 
 stall without carrying him out. I pushed, 
 but he wouldn't budge. I stood looking at 
 him in the face, thinking of something to 
 say, when he suddenly solved the difficulty 
 by veering and plunging for the door. I 
 followed, as a matter of course, because I 
 had a tight hold on the rope, and hit about 
 
 V-l 
 
 every partition stud worth speaking of on 
 that side of the barn. Mrs. Perkins was at 
 the window and saw us come out of the 
 door. She subsequently remarked that we 
 came out skipping like two innocent chil- 
 
196 
 
 TAKING CARE OF A HORSE. 
 
 dren. The skipping was entirely uninten- 
 tional on my part. I felt as if I stood on 
 the verge of eternity. My legs may have 
 skipped, but my mind was filled with 
 awe. 
 
 I took that animal out to exercise him. 
 He exercised me before I got through with 
 it. He went around a few times in a circle; 
 then he stopped suddenly, spread out his 
 forelegs and looked at me. Then he leaned 
 forward a little, and hoisted both hind-legs, 
 and threw about two coal-hods of mud over 
 a line full of clothes Mrs. Perkins had just 
 hung out. 
 
 That excellent lady had taken a position 
 at the window, and whenever the evolutions 
 of the awful beast permitted I caught a 
 glance at her features. She appeared to be 
 very much interested in the proceedings ; 
 but the instant that the mud flew, she dis- 
 appeared from the window, and a moment 
 later she appeared on the stoop with a long 
 poker in her hand and fire enough in her 
 eyes to heat it red hot. 
 
 Just then Stiver's horse stood up on his 
 hind-legs and tried to hug me with the 
 others. This scared me. A horse never 
 shows his strength to such advantage as 
 when he is coming down on you like 
 a frantic piledriver. I instantly dodged, 
 and the cold sweat fairly boiled out 
 
 of me. It frightened Mrs. Perkins dread- 
 fully. 
 
 " Why, you old fool ! " she said, " why 
 don't you get rid of him ? " 
 
 " How can I ? " said I in desperation. 
 
 " Why, there are a thousand ways," said 
 she. 
 
 This is just like a woman. How different 
 a statesman would have answered ! 
 
 But I could only think of two ways to 
 dispose of the beast: I could either swallow 
 him where he stood and then sit down on 
 him, or I could crawl inside of him and 
 kick him to death. 
 
 But I was saved either of these ex- 
 pedients by his coming toward me so ab- 
 ruptly that I dropped the rope in terror, 
 and then he turned about, and, kicking me 
 full ot 'nud, shot for the gate, ripping the 
 clothes-line in two, and went on down the 
 street at a horrible gallop, with two of 
 Mrs. Perkins's garments, which he hastily 
 snatched from the line, floating over his 
 neck in a very picturesque manner. 
 
 So I was afterwards told. I was too full 
 of mud myself to . see the way into the 
 house. 
 
 Stiver got his horse all right, and stays 
 at home to care for him. Mrs. Perkins 
 has gone to her mother's to recuperate, 
 and I am healing as fast as possible. 
 
JIMMY BUTLER'S STORY OF HIMSELF AND THE OWL. 
 
 197 
 
 JIMMY BTJTLKR'S STORY OF HIMSELF AND THK OWL. 
 
 IT was in the summer of '46 that I landed 
 at Hamilton, fresh as a new pratie just 
 dug from the " ould sod," and wid a light 
 heart and a heavy bundle I sot off for the 
 township of Buford, tiding a taste of a song, 
 as merry a young fellow as iver took the 
 road. Well, I trudged on and on, past 
 many a plisint place, pleasin' myself wid 
 the thought that some day I might have a 
 place of my own, wid a world of chickens 
 
 and ducks and pigs and childer about the 
 door ; and along in the afternoon of the 
 sicond day I got to Buford village. 
 
 A cousin of me mother's, one Dennis 
 O'Dowd, lived about sivin miles from there, 
 and I wanted to make his place that night, 
 so I inquired the way at the tavern, and was 
 lucky to find a man who was goin' part of 
 the way an' would show me the way to find 
 Dennis. Sure he was very kind indade, an' 
 when I got out of his wagon he pointed me 
 through the wood, and tould me to go 
 straight south a mile an' a half, and the first 
 house would be Dennis's. 
 
 "An' you've no time to lose now," said 
 he, " for the sun is low, and mind you don't 
 get lost in the woods." 
 
 "Is it lost now," said I, "that I'd be gittin, 
 an' me uncle as great a navigator as iver 
 steered a ship across the thrackless say ! 
 Not a bit of it, though I'm obleeged to ye 
 for your kind advice, and thank yez for the 
 ride." 
 
 An' wid that he drove off an' left me 
 alone. I shouldered me bundle bravely, 
 an' whistlin' a bit of tune for company like, 
 I pushed into the bush. Well, I went a long 
 way over bogs, and turnin' round among the 
 bush an' trees till I began to think I must 
 be well nigh to Dennis's. But, bad cess to 
 it ! all of a sudden I came out of the woods 
 at the very identical spot where I started in, 
 which I knew by an ould crotched tree that 
 seemed to be standin' on its head and kickin' 
 up its heels to make divarsion of me. 
 
 By this time it was growin' dark, and as 
 there was no time to lose, I started in a 
 second time, determined to keep straight 
 south this time and no mistake. I got 
 on bravely for a while, but och hone! och 
 hone ! it got so dark I couldn't see the trees, 
 and I bumped me nose and barked me 
 shins, while the miskaties bit me hands and 
 face to a blister; an' after tumblin' an' 
 stumblin' around till I was fairly bamfoozled, 
 I sat down on a log, all of a trimble, to 
 think that I was lost intirely, an* that maybe 
 a lion or some other wild craythur would 
 devour me before mornin'. 
 
 Just then I heard somebody a long way off 
 say, "Whip poor Will ! " " Bedad," sez I, " I'm 
 glad that it isn't Jamie that's got to take it, 
 though it seems it's more in sorrow than in 
 anger they are doin' it, or why should they 
 say, 'poor Will?' an' sure they can't be 
 Injin, haythin, or naygur, for it's plain 
 English they're afther spakin'. Maybe they 
 
198 
 
 JIMMY BUTLER'S STORY OF HIMSELF AND THE OWL. 
 
 might help me out o' this," so I shouted at 
 the top of my voice, "A lost man ! " Thin 
 I listened. Prisently an answer came. 
 
 "Who? Whoo? Whooo?" 
 
 "Jamie Butler, the waiver!" sez I, as 
 loud as I could roar, an' snatchin' up me 
 bundle an' stick, I started in the direction 
 of the voice. Whin I thought I had got 
 near the place I stopped and shouted again, 
 " A lost man ! " 
 
 " Who ! Whoo ! Whooo ! " said a voice 
 right over my head. 
 
 "Sure," thinks I, "it's a mighty quare 
 place for a man to be at this time of night ; 
 maybe it's some settler scrapin' sugar off a 
 sugar-bush for the children's breakfast in the 
 
 o 
 
 mornin'. But where's Will and the rest of 
 them?" All this wint through me head like 
 a flash, an' thin I answered his inquiry. 
 
 "Jamie Butler, the waiver," sez I; "and 
 if it wouldn't inconvanience yer honor, 
 would yez be kind enough to step down and 
 show me the way to the house of Dennis 
 O'Dowd?" 
 
 "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" sez he. 
 
 " Dennis O'Dowd," sez I, civil enough, 
 "and a dacent man he is, and first cousin to 
 me own mother." 
 
 "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" sez he again. 
 
 " Me mother ! " sez I, " and as fine a 
 woman as iver peeled a biled pratie wid 
 her thumb nail, and her father's name was 
 Paddy McFiggin. 
 
 "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" 
 
 " Paddy McFiggin ! bad luck to yer deaf 
 ould head, Paddy McFiggin, I say do ye 
 hear that ? An' he was the tallest man in . 
 all county Tipperary, excipt Jim Doyle, the 
 blacksmith." 
 
 "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" 
 
 "Jim Doyle, the blacksmith," sez I, "ye 
 good for nuthin' blaggurd naygur, and if 
 
 yez don't come down and show me the way 
 this min't, I'll climb up there and break 
 every bone in your skin, ye spalpeen, so 
 sure as me name is Jimmy Butler! " 
 
 " Who ! Whoo ! Whooo ! " sez he. as im- 
 pident as ever. 
 
 I said niver a word, but lavin' down me 
 bundle, and takin' me stick in me teeth, I 
 began to climb the tree. Whin I got among 
 the branches I looked quietly around till I 
 saw a pair of big eyes just forninst me. 
 
 " "Whist," sez I, "and I'll let him have a 
 taste of an Irish stick," and wid that I let 
 drive and lost me balance an' came tumblin' 
 to the ground, nearly breakin' me neck wid 
 the fall. Whin I came to me sinsis I had a 
 very sore head, wid a lump on it like a 
 goose egg, and half of me Sunday coat-tail 
 torn off intirely. I spoke to the chap in the 
 tree, but could git niver an answer, at all, at 
 all. 
 
 Sure, thinks I, he must have gone home 
 to rowl up his head, for by the powers I 
 didn't throw me stick for nothin'. 
 
 Well, by this time the moon was up and 
 I could see a little, and I detarmined to 
 make one more effort to reach Dennis's. 
 
 I wint on cautiously for a while, an' thin 
 I heard a bell. " Sure," sez I, " I'm comin' 
 
JIMMY BUTLER'S STORY OF HIMSELF AND THE OWL. 
 
 199 
 
 to a settlement now, for I hear the church 
 bell." I kept on toward the sound till I 
 came to an ould cow wid a bell on. She 
 started to run, but I was too quick for her, 
 and got her by the tail and hung on, think- 
 in' that maybe she would take me out of the 
 woods. On we wint, like an ould country 
 steeple-chase, till, sure enough, we came out 
 to a clearin' and a house in sight wid a light 
 in it. So, leaving the ould cow puffin' and 
 blowin' in a shed, I went to the house, and 
 as luck would have it, whose should it be 
 but Dennis's. 
 
 He gave me a raal Irish welcome, and in- 
 troduced me to his two daughters as purty 
 a pair of girls as iver ye clapped an eye on. 
 
 But whin I tould him my adventure in the 
 woods, and about the fellow who made fun 
 of me, they all laughed and roared, and 
 Dennis said it was an owl. 
 
 " An ould what ? " sez I. 
 
 "Why, an owl, a bird," sez he. 
 
 "Do you tell me, now?" sez I. "Sure 
 it's a quare country and a quare bird." 
 
 And thin they all laughed again, till at 
 last I laughed myself, that hearty like, and 
 dropped right into a chair between the two 
 purty girls, and the ould chap winked at me 
 and roared again. 
 
 Dennis is me father-in-law now, and he 
 often yet delights to tell our children about 
 their daddy's adventure wid the owl. 
 
 THE QUEER LITTLE BOY. 
 
 HERE'S a queer little boy. He wears And now you may all try to guess in 
 queer little clothes, stands by a queer 
 little table, has a queer little sign hanging 
 on the wall behind him, and through the 
 open window a queer little house, queer- 
 looking steeples, and queer-looking trees 
 may be seen. 
 
 The queerest thing about it is, that if 
 this queer little boy should see the little 
 boys who read this book, he would think 
 them the queerest little folks he ever saw, 
 and their houses and trees and steeples 
 woijld all seem very funny to him. 
 
 His toys and games are all different from 
 yours, though many toys made and used in 
 his land are brought to this land, and are 
 sold to the boys and girls here. His 
 schools, his teachers, and his books are 
 very different from yours, and queer as it 
 may seem, when he hears about America 
 and American boys, he pities the poor little what land this queer little boy lives. Is 
 fellows who live so far away. he Chinese ? is he Japanese ? or what is he ? 
 
200 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 BY F. BLAKE CROFTON. 
 
 AN UNINVITED BALLOONIST. 
 
 IT once struck me that ballooning- would 
 be the pleasantest way of travelling in 
 my business, lifting me above the sands, 
 beasts and barbarians of the desert. So I 
 had a big balloon constructed, with a patent 
 rudder, guaranteed to steer against any or- 
 dinary wind. One day, when the breeze 
 blew inland, I embarked, thinking my return 
 voyage would be plain sailing, owing to the 
 patent rudder and to the figuring of a man 
 of science, who proved quite clearly that an 
 upper current of air set steadily from the 
 desert to the western ocean. But either 
 the upper current of air or the patent rud- 
 der went all wrong, and I was landed at 
 Morocco, from which city I made my way 
 home by sea, with the loss of four months' 
 time, my whole cargo of feathers and every 
 cent I had taken out with me. 
 
 For the future I confined my ballooning 
 to short voyages of exploration. 
 
 On one of these occasions my supply of 
 water had nearly run out, when, noticing a 
 stream, as I thought, I descended and made 
 fast the balloon. What I ' fancied was a 
 brook turned out, however, to be a wady 
 that is, one of the dried-up water-courses 
 of the Sahara. As I turned back empty- 
 ' handed, I saw a prettily spotted animal, 
 which proved to be a baby-leopard, playing 
 like a kitten in the wady. I caught the 
 creature and hoisted it into the car by a 
 rope. Then, as no living thing was in sight, 
 I was k mrely preparing to launch my air- 
 ship once more. Two of the three ropes 
 which secured it to the earth were already 
 cut, and I was turning to cut the third, when 
 I was horrified at seeing the mother-leopard 
 
 creeping toward me, noiselessly but swiftly, 
 and with a revengeful gleam in her eyes. 
 
 The infuriated beast was now barely forty 
 feet away, and I had enough presence of 
 mind left to lose no time in cutting the last 
 rope, i The liberated balloon rose majestic- 
 ally in the air about a second too late. 
 While I was severing the rope the leopard 
 had reduced her distance, and when I had 
 finished she was poised for a spring. Up 
 she bounded, the embodiment of cruelty 
 and grace, her paws outstretched, her tail 
 stiff, her jaws distended, her eyes flashing. 
 Her fore claws only just reached the bottom, 
 of the rising car; but they grasped it like 
 grim death, and she soon clambered into 
 the car, nearly capsizing it in the process. 
 Then she stood a moment over her sprawl- 
 ing cub and gave a roar, whether a roar of 
 greeting to the cub or of menace to me I 
 did not even try to guess. Just at that 
 time I was going up the ropes which secured 
 the car to the balloon in a way that would 
 have won the prize at any gymnastic exhi- 
 bition. 
 
 In a few seconds I was clinging to the 
 netting of the balloon, and glancing uneasily 
 down at the " bearded pard." 
 
 A glance showed me there was no im- 
 mediate danger from the leopard. She was 
 quite as alarmed as I was. Her first move- 
 ment, when she perceived the earth reced- 
 ing beneath her, was to seize the cub in her 
 teeth and hasten to the edge of the car, as 
 if about to spring to the ground. But the 
 height was too great, and, abandoning her 
 intention, she dropped the cub and whined 
 in abject terror. 
 
 I had now time to reflect. Even if I 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 201 
 
 wished to make the balloon descend, in the 
 hope that the frightened leopard might leap 
 to the ground at the first opportunity, I had 
 not the means of doing so where I was. 
 To go down into the car while the leopard 
 remained there alive seemed like putting my 
 head in a lion's mouth, and I had no means 
 of killing the beast, for my fire-arms were 
 also in the car. Meantime, though I had 
 secured a foothold in the netting, the strain 
 on the muscles of my hands and arms was 
 great, and I could not support it forever. 
 At last I drew my knife, which, in my hurry, 
 I had luckily shoved into my pocket un- 
 clasped, and, climbing around the base of 
 the balloon, began severing the ropes which 
 attached the car to it. As the car swung 
 downward, supported by the last two ropes, 
 the young leopard fell to the earth ; but its 
 mother, becoming suddenly conscious of 
 what I was doing, sprang upward and 
 struggled hard to climb the single rope that 
 remained uncut for the other, half severed, 
 had yielded when she sprang. It was a 
 trying moment, but the knife was sharp and 
 I managed to divide the rope in time. 
 
 Down fell the car, and the leopard after 
 it, still grasping the rope with her claws. 
 Sometimes the car was uppermost, some- 
 times the beast. In spite of my own peril- 
 ous position, I could not help watching this 
 terrific see-saw in the air, until beast and 
 car, after shrinking to mere specs, were 
 dashed to pieces on the ground. Fortu- 
 nately for me, my eyes were accustomed to 
 dizzy heights. 
 
 I had provided against the too rapid 
 ascent of the balloon, when lightened of so 
 great a weight, by cutting a small hole in 
 its side. But this proved insufficient to stop 
 its upward progress. So I made other 
 small holes with great caution for my only 
 
 chance of a successful descent was to let 
 the gas escape by slow degrees. My task 
 was not an easy one, for the balloon, cut 
 loose from its ballast, now lay over con- 
 siderably on one side, with me beneath. 
 The strain on my hands had consequently 
 grown much greater. However, I eased it 
 somewhat by getting one leg inside the 
 
 netting, and soon I was glad to perceive, 
 from the gently upward direction of the 
 loose ropes, that I was beginning to de- 
 scend. The motion grew more and more 
 rapid, and though I managed to reduce its 
 rapidity for a time by cutting off all the 
 swinging ropes within my reach, I should 
 probably have been maimed, or killed out- 
 right, had 1 not alighted on the long, feathery 
 
202 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 leaves of a date-palm, in the centre of a The course of the balloon had been 
 beautiful cluster of these trees. nearly due east, and, as well as I could 
 
 After refreshing myself with some dates, guess at its average speed, I was not much 
 and rilling my pockets with more, I struck more than a hundred miles from the coast, 
 into the desert to seek the wreck of the car, So, after breakfasting on the rest of the 
 and especially my rifle and revolver, with- dates and a small allowance of water, I 
 out which I had no hopes of reaching civili- took Horace Greeley's advice to young men 
 zation again. My ruined balloon did me a and went west. 
 
 last service, as it limped over the tops of the " How could you tell which side was the 
 palms: it enabled me to tell the direction west?" you will ask. 
 
 of the wind, which I could not have dis- Well, the sun, my dears, very kindly got 
 covered otherwise, for if was nearly a dead up that morning at about the usual time 
 calm. By going directly against the wind, and place. And during the whole of the 
 
 first day I made for a distant clump of trees 
 which lay but a little out of my course. 
 
 I reached the clump half broiled and 
 without a drop of water, having used up 
 most of my supply in moistening my head 
 to keep off sunstroke. However, the trees 
 were date-palms and grew over a brook, as 
 these trees commonly do. So I found an 
 abundance of food, drink and fuel, and slept 
 
 I knew I must draw near the objects of my 
 search. I found the shattered car and the 
 leopard by it ; but rifle and pistol were bent 
 and broken beyond any possibility of use or 
 repair. 
 
 But the way I got home is a story in 
 itself. 
 
 A TWO-LEGGED STEED. 
 
 So HERE goes for Story No. II. When I 
 found my fire-arms smashed, I was dum- 
 founded for a minute or so. Then, as the sun 
 was just setting, I looked over the wreck of 
 the car, and picked out a thin rope, and the 
 skin in which I used to carry my water and 
 which still held about half a gallon. I built 
 a fire out of the remnants of the car and its 
 contents, and, stretching my feet toward it, 
 fell asleep almost instantaneously. I was 
 too tired to make any plans. 
 
 as soundly and safely as the night before. 
 
 I started into the desert early next morn- 
 ing in better spirits, for I was some twenty- 
 five miles nearer home, and had not, so far, 
 met a beast of prey, though I heard one 
 roaring near my fire. 
 
 About noon I observed an animal behind 
 me, but too far away to recognize. Some 
 minutes later I looked round again and saw 
 it in about the same position. This looked 
 as if it was following me. I felt uncom fort- 
 
 Next morning I was awakened by a sharp able and glanced back a third time. It was 
 
 pain on my right cheek, and, opening my 
 eyes, I saw a vulture perched upon my 
 breast and preparing to have a second and 
 more satisfactory peck at my face, if I should 
 happily prove to be dead or mortally wou nded. 
 I jumped up with a shout, which scared the 
 cowardly bird and a whole flock of his mates 
 that were feeding on the carcass of the leopard. 
 
 a little nearer now, and I perceived, to my 
 alarm, that its color was tawny. Wishing 
 to know the worst, I halted. To my sur- 
 prise the animal halted, too. Its motion 
 had been stealthy and cat-like ; but now its 
 pose was bold and commanding, as it 
 raised its head and paused to contemplate 
 me. 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 203 
 
 If I had any doubts remaining they were 
 soon gone, for the beast lifted its head 
 higher and proved its identity by roaring as 
 only lions can roar. 
 
 Though much alarmed at this, I had pres- 
 ence of mind enough not to turn and flee 
 at this terrible summons. On the contrary, 
 I looked the lion steadily in the face for 
 some minutes, and then calmly resumed my 
 journey west. 
 
 As I had hoped, he did not charge, but 
 continued to follow at the same interval. 
 When I halted again, he halted, too ; when 
 I walked, he walked after me. He ap- 
 parently meant to attack me in the dark, 
 when lions are boldest. 
 
 Several times that day I was on the point 
 of ending my fearful suspense by rushing 
 at my pursuer and forcing him either to fly 
 or else to eat me for his dinner instead of 
 for his supper. But each time some new 
 hope would spring up in my breast, and I 
 would trudge on still. Once I remembered 
 Androcles and hoped that the lion might 
 tread upon a thorn. Another time I thought 
 of the man in a similar plight with myself, 
 who, happily combining presence of mind 
 with absence of body, raised his cloak and 
 hat on a stick and induced a deluded lion to 
 spring at it and fall down a convenient prec- 
 ipice. Time and again I hoped for trees, 
 and time and again I asked myself the 
 conundrum, " Why is a lion like an oyster?" 
 and comforted myself with the answer, 
 " Because neither can climb a tree." Yes ; 
 if I were only up a tree, I would fear the 
 lion no more than an oyster of the same 
 size and weight. 
 
 I think I could have climbed anything just 
 then a branchless palm, the North Pole, a 
 genealogical tree. But I could see nothing 
 higher than myself, except the sun. 
 
 At last I came to a slight rise in the 
 boundless waste. From the summit I saw 
 neither rock nor tree. Two cassavas were 
 in sight, but they were only stunted shrubs 
 a few feet high. The sun was at the hori- 
 zon, and the lion had decreased his distance 
 visibly. I felt the courage of despair and 
 was about to.turn and force the wild beast 
 to kill me then or never, when I saw some- 
 thing rise out of the long shadow cast by 
 the cassavas in the seating sun. I soon dis- 
 covered that it was a large ostrich, which 
 had been frightened by some sight or sound 
 at the other side of the bushes, for it came 
 straight toward me, using wings and legs, 
 as ostriches do when hurried or alarmed. 
 
 In a moment I had formed a plan of es- 
 cape. I headed the huge bird and shouted 
 at it. It fled in bewilderment back to the 
 cassavas, where, according to its silly cus- 
 tom, it thrust its head info the leaves and 
 halted, in the belief that not to see involves 
 not to be seen. 
 
 It was a double chase ; for no sooner did 
 I begin to run after the ostrich than the 
 lion, echoing my shout with compound in- 
 terest, started in pursuit. To a looker-on 
 the race would have shown strange contrasts 
 the flapping, waddling, frightened ostrich ; 
 the man running silently for life ; the roar- 
 ing lion, with successive bounds, hastening 
 after his prey. 
 
 I was a good hand at leap-frog when I 
 was at school. I had often leaped onto the 
 sixth or seventh back at the old game of 
 " High Cockalorum." But I never had so 
 
 o 
 
 high " a back " given me before as that now 
 offered by the unconscious ostrich. Still, I 
 never had so much encouragement to dis- 
 tinguish myself at any game before, for a 
 hungry lion had never been the next player 
 behind me ! 
 
204 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 Mustering all my strength, I sprang into 
 the air, tipping the ostrich's tail with my 
 fingers as 1 flew over it. In another mo- 
 
 o 
 
 ment I was seated comfortably on the back 
 of the bird, holding tightly to its neck with 
 both hands. The huge creature, terrified no 
 less by the roaring of the lion, now hardly 
 fifty yards behind, than by the mysterious 
 weight on its back, hastily raised its head 
 from the cassava bush and went off at a pace 
 which soon distanced our pursuer. 
 
 We travelled all ni^ht, and on the follow- 
 
 provide against accidents, as my habit was 
 when ballooning. So I threw him a sov- 
 ereign, which he swallowed eagerly ; then 
 an eagle, which he seemed to enjoy still 
 more. At least, he ran to it and stooped 
 for it with more haste whether because it 
 was a larger coin, or because it was of 
 American manufacture, I am unable to de- 
 cide. 
 
 " How did you get him to go in one direc 
 tion all the time ? " I hear. 
 
 By making a slip-noose on my rope and 
 
 ing afternoon struck the coast, six miles be- 
 low the trading-post, which we reached at 
 sundown. 
 
 " But what did the ostrich eat on the way, 
 Major?" you will say. 
 
 Chiefly money. 
 
 "Money?" 
 
 Yes ; money. I suppose you are aware 
 that ostriches are fond of eating stones and 
 metals. Well, I thought a few coins might 
 
 o o 
 
 be a pleasant change for my ostrich, and I 
 had a quantity of gold coins in a belt, to 
 
 lassoing his neck, keeping the ends of the 
 rope in my hands to act as reins. I put 
 two knots on the rope to prevent the noose 
 from getting too tight and strangling the 
 bird ; yet I managed to make it mighty dis- 
 agreeable for him when he tried to alter his 
 course. While the coins lasted I had no 
 trouble at all ; for, whenever he wanted to 
 turn, I just threw one straight ahead, and 
 by the time the silly bird had reached 
 it he had quite forgotten his desire to 
 turn. 
 
THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. HARRY HIGHFLYER'S DREAM. 
 
 205 
 
 " What a lot it cost to feed that ostrich ! " 
 do you say ? 
 
 Bless your soul, it didn't cost a cent. If 
 I never got home the money was no use to 
 me. If I did I knew I could get it back. I 
 !iated to shoot that ostrich ; but times were 
 bad, and I could not afford to wait and find 
 
 out whether the bird would lay golden eggs. 
 The feathers of that ostrich wave to-day 
 from my aunt's bonnet. I brought them 
 home as witnesses of my adventure. The 
 yellowish tinge in them is owing to the 
 large quantity of gold swallowed by my two- 
 legged steed. 
 
 HARRY HIGHFIlYER'S DREAM. 
 
 HARRY HIGHFLYER was a happy, 
 hearty little boy. He was but a 
 little boy, but he wanted to do all that the 
 big boys did. Big boys flew great big 
 kites. So Harry thought he must do it. 
 His brother, just for fun, bought him the 
 biggest kite he could find, and Harry tried 
 his best to fly it. He tugged so with his 
 kite that his mother became alarmed, for 
 he would be out in the road half his time 
 and was in danger of being run over. 
 
 To stop his kite craze, she asked him one 
 evening what would become of him if the kite 
 should carry him off some day. Of that he 
 had never thought, but he went to bed that 
 night with a new peril staring him in the face. 
 
 At last Harry began to dream, and here 
 is a picture of what he dreamed. He 
 thought there was an awful wind blowing, 
 and, for fear his kite would blow away, he 
 jumped on top of it as it lay in the road. 
 No sooner was he on top of it, however, 
 than it began to rise. Harry was terribly 
 scared, but he hung on for dear life. Up, 
 up, went the kite above the trees, above 
 the church steeple up, up among the 
 clouds it floated, and still Harry hung on 
 to the kite. His little cap had blown off 
 long before ; the swallows and sparrows 
 had come flying- near him when about as 
 high as the tree-tops, and he thought they 
 had chirped, " Good-bye, good-bye ; " some 
 
 he thought said, " Good-bye, Harry High- 
 flyer," and so he felt sure he would never 
 again see his home. 
 
 At last the kite began to come down. 
 Down, down it settled, and at last he saw 
 his own house. Still lower the kite sank, 
 
 until suddenly it made a pitch and Harry 
 dropped. He thought he was about to be 
 killed, and directly, with a terrible yell, he 
 struck the ground. His yell woke his 
 mother, and, running into Harry's room, she 
 found he had fallen not off of a kite, but 
 out of his snug, warm bed. 
 
206 
 
 A PRETTY "PINAFORE" PERFORMANCE. 
 
 A PRETTY "PINAFORE" PERFORMANCE. 
 
 A FEW years ago a very pretty and 
 popular comic opera, called " Pina- 
 fore," became all the rage in this land. It 
 was performed in theatres, and in halls by 
 professional opera companies, by church 
 
 choirs, and by 
 amateur singers., 
 by at least one 
 good company of 
 colored singers, 
 and by many 
 
 pretty companies of boys and girls in private 
 assemblages. 
 
 " Pinafore," as played in the opera, was 
 the name of a ship in the English navy, and 
 the funny scenes were among the officers 
 and sailors, with lots of their relations. 
 
 The picture is of one of these children's 
 performances which took place in the city 
 of Washington. The Admiral, who wears 
 the three-cornered hat, was a lad twelve 
 years of age ; Josephine, the little lady 
 nearest the front, was a little girl clever* 
 years of age ; Buttercup, who has the 
 basket, was a little girl of ten ; the sailor 
 in front was a boy of eleven ; and so their 
 ages ran, not a man or a woman taking a 
 part in the entire performance. 
 
 These little singers and little 
 I actors belonged to many of 
 the leading families of Wash- 
 ington, and, as a result, the 
 audience that attended their 
 display was one of the most 
 elegant ever assembled in that 
 famous city. And the children 
 did their parts well. All the 
 newspapers were full of it, and 
 in many histories of the Capital 
 City their doings that night 
 are recorded to their credit. 
 
 It all illustrates the old say- 
 ing that "What is worth doing 
 is worth doing well." This 
 funny performance was worth 
 doing well, for it was very 
 amusing, and the little folks 
 who did it determined to do 
 it well. That ^uaranteed their 
 
 o 
 
 success, and it will guarantee 
 yours in all the ways of life. 
 That idea, by the way, is part of the fun 
 in " Pinafore " itself. He who became the 
 Admiral in the opera was originally an 
 office-boy ; but he was attentive, and neat, 
 and, as the burlesque puts it, for these rea- 
 sons became so high a commander. 
 
WHAT WILL HAPPEN? WHO CAN GUESS? 
 
 207 
 
208 
 
 THE KING'S SON. 
 
 THE KING'S SON. 
 
 THERE was once a great King, who 
 was named "The Good." He had 
 one only son, whom he loved very much. 
 
 The King was once out hunting for 
 hunting is a royal sport, and it is indeed 
 very merry when the horn sounds, the dogs 
 
 bark, and the horses neigh. He was very 
 fond of the hunt, yet it pained him to see 
 the poor wounded animals. 
 
 pursuers, and took refuge in the arms of 
 the King. 
 
 The King fondled the little hare, saying, 
 " No harm shall happen to thee ; thou art 
 safe in thy King's arms ! " 
 
 He took the hare into his castle, shut it 
 into a room, and gave it the best of herbs 
 and other food to eat, and then went to bed 
 with the feeling that he had done a good 
 deed. For is it not a good deed to shield a 
 weak animal ? 
 
 But what took place in the night? A 
 bright light awoke the King: he looked up, 
 and saw a lovely woman standing before 
 him. With a soft voice she said, " I am the 
 Fairy True-lips. I was in the wood in 
 which you hunted.. I wished to try you, 
 and so changed myself into a white hare. 
 Then, when the hunters chased me, I flew 
 into your arms, and found that they had 
 rightly given you the name of the 'Good 
 King.' I thank you for your kindness, and 
 say, ' Command, O King, how I shall serve 
 you ! ' " 
 
 " Beautiful Fairy," said the Good King, 
 " I need nothing ; I have all that I want, for 
 
 One day the hunters chased a white hare, 
 who, with its swift feet, saved itself from its 
 
 I am old; but I have a son a fine strong 
 son : be his friend." 
 
THE KING'S SON. 
 
 209 
 
 "I will," said the Fairy; "what shall I 
 give him? riches, honors, beauty, power? 
 Choose." 
 
 " None of all those," said the King ; 
 " make him the best of Sovereigns ; what 
 good will riches, honors, beauty, power do 
 him ? what all the wealth of the world ? 
 Give him virtue. Thou knowest, O kind 
 Fairy, that virtue alone makes us happy ! " 
 
 "Thou speakest the truth," said the Fairy. 
 "I can give him everything else, but not 
 virtue. Only by his own will can a man 
 get that. All I can promise is, that I will 
 watch over him, and stand by his side in his 
 path through life." 
 
 The King was pleased with this, and 
 when his time came to die he left the world 
 with an easier mind. 
 
 His son was his heir. 
 
 Two days after the death of the Good 
 King, the Fairy True-lips stood before the 
 new king. " I made a promise to thy 
 father, Prince," said she, " to be thy friend ; 
 and to keep my word, I bring thee a pres- 
 ent. Give me thy finger: on it I place 
 this ring. Keep it safely : it is of more 
 worth than diamonds. Every time thou 
 art tempted to do an evil action, it will 
 prick thy finger. If thou dost not remain 
 good, thou wilt lose my friendship." 
 
 After speaking these words, the Fairy 
 True-lips at once went out of sight. 
 
 For a long time the King felt no prick 
 from his ring ; but one day, when he was 
 at the hunt, the stag got away from him, 
 and he got very angry. 
 
 Then the ring pricked him. 
 
 After he had reached home, he, in his ill- 
 temper, kicked his little dog to the other 
 end of the room. Again the ring pricked 
 him. 
 
 The King then became sulky, and seated 
 
 himself in a corner. " What does the Fairy 
 mean?" he asked. "Am I not master over 
 my own little dog ? /, to whom the king- 
 
 dom belongs ! I think she means to mock 
 me." 
 
 "No!" sounded the voice of the Fairy, 
 "I do not mock thee; but one fault leads to 
 another. Why should thy little dog suffer 
 for thy ill-humor? Thou art a king, and if 
 kings are not very watchful over them- 
 selves, their subjects can have no trust in 
 them. Thy father was called ' The Good/ 
 and he was kind to men and beasts." 
 
 The son of the Good King had been a 
 spoiled child, for the King could seldom 
 bear to deny him anything. So self-will 
 had grown in him. His heart was good, 
 but he often forgot himself, and let his pas- 
 sion break out, as the poor little animals 
 knew to their cost. 
 
 He could not any longer bear the ring, 
 which now so often told him of his faults ; 
 so he threw it away. 
 
 But one evening, as he was in his room, 
 the earth shook, and the Fairy True-lips 
 stood before him. 
 
210 
 
 THE KING'S SON. 
 
 "I gave my word to thy father that I 
 would watch over thee, but what can I do 
 if thou wilt bear no reproof? " said she. 
 "Thou art like the lion in thy wrath, the 
 wolf in thy greediness, the serpent in thy 
 falsehood, and the ox in thy rudeness. To 
 punish thee I take from thee the form of a 
 man, but not the feelings of one. Become 
 a lion ! " 
 
 She so spoke and vanished ; and the 
 
 better after this. So one moonlight night 
 he prayed the Fairy to come and change 
 him again. 
 
 She came, and said: "For the sake of thy 
 father, the ' Good King,' I will do what you 
 ask. Return to thy kingdom, and be good, 
 and then thou wilt be beloved. But should 
 I ever again find thee in a cruel action, I 
 shall turn thee into an owl." 
 
 The Fairy spoke thus then vanished. 
 
 Prince at once found himself in a pit that 
 had been dug to catch bears. 
 
 There a hunter came upon him, bound 
 him, led him away, and sold him to a man 
 who tamed wild beasts to make a show of 
 them to the public. 
 
 Blows, nothing but blows, bad words, 
 heavy chains ; these were what the Prince 
 got for his former faults. 
 
 He was now very sorry for his former 
 life, and made up his mind to be much 
 
 The Prince awoke the next -morning in 
 his royal bed, and how glad he was to feel 
 himself a man again ! After this he was 
 very good, and never let a day pass without 
 making sure that he had done his duty in 
 his high state. 
 
 So the son of the " Good King " became 
 worthy of his father, and gained for him- 
 self a name which was known and loved 
 throughout the whole country during all 
 the years of his life. 
 
 SAVED FROM THE SNOW. 
 
 THREE little children, one wintry day, 
 Started from home in a big old sleigh ; 
 The day was cold, but the sun was bright, 
 And so they rode till 'twas almost night. 
 But when the chill of the night had come 
 All of them wished they were safe at home ; 
 But home was off a long, long way, 
 And they made slow work in that big old sleigh. 
 
 At last they came to a steep snow-bank, 
 And down in the snow one runner sank ; 
 The sleigh upset, and its load was spilled: 
 Their eyes and their ears with snow were filled. 
 But just as they thought they were almost dead 
 Their father drove up with his nice new sled, 
 And they were all glad that their father had come, 
 And soon they were safe in their nice warm home. 
 
THE FISHERMAN CAUGHT. 
 
 211 
 
 THE FISHERMAN CAUGHT. 
 
 THHERE was a cute old fisherman 
 
 A- Lived by a lakelet's side ; 
 
 And every morning early, bright, 
 To catch a fish he tried. 
 
 He had a very clumsy boat 
 In which he patient sat, 
 
 With baggy coat, and baggy pants, 
 And old manilla hat. 
 
 One day when he had gone to sleep 
 He dropped his fishing-pole ; 
 
 The merry fishes gathered round, 
 And hook and line they stole. 
 
 They left the pole, they left the boat, 
 They left the old man there ; 
 
 And by and by he roused himself 
 And then began to swear. 
 
 To push his clumsy boat out far 
 
 The old man was afraid ; 
 And so, among the reeds and weeds, 
 
 Close by the shore he stayed. 
 
 No fishes cared to swim in there, 
 They loved the water deep ; 
 
 And so the old man used to wait, 
 And sometimes fall asleep. 
 
 But little cared the fishes then 
 What that old man could say ; 
 
 They laughed and giggled as they swam 
 And hauled his line away. 
 
 He never tried his luck again ; 
 
 He went to fish no more ; 
 He let his old boat rot away 
 
 Upon that lakelet's shore. 
 
 14 
 
212 
 
 THE RIBBON-FISH. THE BARN- YARD MUSICIAN. 
 
 THE RIBBON-FISH. 
 
 
 DID you ever see such a funny-looking 
 fish as this? It is a wonderful crea- 
 ture called the ribbon-fish. It is long and 
 flat like a ribbon. Off the English coast 
 one species of these fishes live, which be- 
 come about twenty feet long. They live 
 in deep water and do not often come to 
 the surface, but when they show themselves 
 at the top they make a big stir, and they 
 probably have been mistaken at times and 
 have been supposed to be the much-talked- 
 of, but seldom-seen, sea-serpent. At any 
 rate, the movement of so serpent-like a fish 
 would readily alarm the credulous fishermen. 
 
 THE BARN-YARD MUSICIAN. 
 
 DICK DOLLIVER was an orphan boy 
 who lived with a farmer and worked 
 for his board and clothes. He had plenty 
 of hard work and not much time for the en- 
 joyments which boys usually have. Dick's 
 father had been a good musician and the 
 boy had much of his father's talent, for, 
 without having had any instruction, he could 
 get music out of any musical instrument. 
 Dick owned a very nice flute which had 
 been his father's. The farmer's wife where 
 he lived had no ear for music, and when 
 Dick would attempt to play at the house 
 she would scold and tell him not to be wast- 
 ing his time. So Dick had to go away from 
 the house when he wanted music. 
 
 His favorite place was at the barn-yard 
 pump, where, when his day's w^ork was over, 
 and sometimes at his " nooning," he would 
 play very sweetly on the old flute. Dick 
 soon noticed that even the pigs seemed in- 
 terested in his music, especially one old fel- 
 low who would work up close and listen as 
 
 if attentively studying the air. The calves, 
 too, seemed interested, but they were nervous 
 as they listened, as if they suspected that 
 an explosion would follow those sweet 
 strains. The bigf old rooster used to bristle 
 
 o 
 
 up as Dick played, as if he feared that some 
 rival rooster was producing these sounds. 
 Even the sleepy cows would raise their 
 heads and look toward Dick, as if they ex- 
 pected something good to eat must accom- 
 pany that which was so good to hear. 
 
 Dick enjoyed his barn-yard audiences. 
 He used to say to himself that they knew 
 more than the people at the house did. 
 Day by day he would act his part as the 
 barn-yard musician, and in it he was well 
 pleased. It was an humble work Dick did. 
 but if we have a higher and nobler work 
 let us be in it as faithful as he was in his. 
 Dick was so successful in his playing that 
 he used to say the barn-yard people would 
 not enjoy their meals or sleep well unless he 
 gave them their daily dose of music. 
 
THE BARNYARD MUSICIAN. 
 
214 
 
 THE BRAVE TIN SOLDIER. 
 
 THE BRAVE TIN SOLDIER. 
 
 BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
 nP'HERE were once five-and-twenty tin 
 JL soldiers, who were all brothers, for 
 they had been made out of the same old tin 
 spoon. They shouldered arms and looked 
 straight before them, and wore a splendid 
 uniform, red and blue. The first thing in 
 the world they ever heard were the words, 
 "Tin soldiers !" uttered by a little boy, who 
 clapped his hands with delight when the lid 
 of the box, in which they lay, was taken off. 
 The soldiers were all exactly alike, except- 
 ing one, who had only one leg; he had been 
 left to the last, and then there was not 
 enough tin to finish him, so they made him 
 to stand firmly on one leg. 
 
 The table was covered with other play- 
 things, but the prettiest of all was a tiny 
 little lady made of paper. She was a 
 dancer, and she stretched out both her 
 arms, and raised one of her legs so high, 
 that the tin soldier thought that she, like 
 himself, had only one leg. "That is the 
 wife for me," he thought. Then he laid 
 himself behind the snuff-box, so he could 
 peep at the little lady. When evening 
 came, the people of the house went to bed. 
 Then the playthings began to have their 
 own games together, to pay visits, to have 
 sham fights, and to give balls. The nut- 
 crackers played at leap-frog, and the pencil 
 jumped about the table. Only the tin soldier 
 and the dancer remained in their places. 
 She stood on tip-toe, with her arms stretched 
 out, as firmly as he did on one leg. The 
 clock struck twelve, and, with a bounce, up 
 sprang the lid of the snuff-box ; but, in- 
 stead of snuff, there jumped up a little black 
 goblin. 
 
 "Tin soldier," said the goblin, "do not 
 
 wish for anything that does not belong to 
 you." 
 
 When the children came in the next 
 morning, they placed the tin soldier in the 
 window. Now, whether it was the goblin 
 who did it, or the draught, is not known, 
 but the window Hew open, and out fell the 
 tin soldier, heels over head, from the third 
 story, into the street beneath. It was a 
 terrible fall ; for he came head downwards, 
 his helmet and his bayonet stuck in between 
 the flagstones, and his one leg up in the air. 
 The servant-maid and the little boy went 
 down-stairs directly to look for him ; but he 
 was nowhere to be seen, although once they 
 nearly trod upon him. 
 
 Presently there was a heavy shower. 
 When it was over, two boys happened to 
 pass by, and one of them said, "Look, there 
 is a tin soldier. He ought to have a boat 
 to sail in." 
 
 So they made a boat out of a newspaper, 
 and placed the tin soldier in it, and sent him 
 sailing down the gutter, while the two boys 
 ran by the side of it, and clapped their 
 hands. Good gracious, what large waves 
 arose in that gutter! and how fast the 
 stream rolled on ! The paper boat rocked 
 up and down, and turned itself round some- 
 times so quickly that the tin soldier trembled ; 
 yet he remained firm ; his countenance did 
 not change ; he looked straight before, and 
 shouldered his musket. Suddenly the boat 
 shot under the bridge which formed part of 
 a drain, and then it was as dark as the tin 
 soldier's box. 
 
 " Where am I going now ? " thought he. 
 
 Suddenly there appeared a great water- 
 rat, who lived in the drain. 
 
THE BRAVE TIN SOLDIER. SEE-SAW. 
 
 215 
 
 " Have you a passport ? " asked the rat. 
 "Give it to me at once." But the tin soldier 
 remained silent and held his musket tighter 
 than ever. The boat sailed on and the 
 stream rushed on stronger and stronger. 
 The tin soldier could already see daylight 
 shining where the arch ended. Then he 
 heard a roaring sound. At the end of the 
 tunnel the drain fell into a large canal over 
 a steep place. He was too close to it to 
 stop, so the boat rushed on, and the poor 
 tin soldier could only hold himself as stiffly 
 
 as possible, without moving an eyelid, to 
 show that he was not afraid. 
 
 Then the boat fell to pieces, and the 
 soldier was swallowed by a great fish, which 
 was caught, taken to the market, and sold 
 to the cook. She cut him open and cried 
 out : " Oh, here is the tin soldier." She 
 took him into the same room, and put him 
 on the same table ; and there was the 
 elegant little dancer still balancing herself 
 on one leg, and everything was just as he 
 had left it. 
 
 SEE-SAW. 
 
 HERE is a genuine see-saw romp in a creeps down the board, while Mabel, the 
 farm-house yard. The rompers wee one of the party, tries to help him, 
 are real country boys and girls, full of life, though just how to do it she hardly knows. 
 
 and health, and fun. They've hoisted Sam But she shows her good intention, and it is 
 up in the air, and he knows they mean to to be hoped the fun will end with nobody 
 drop him if they can, so he prudently hurt. 
 
216 
 
 WONDERFUL TKKKS. 
 
 WONDERFUL TREES. 
 
 1 
 
 N California there are trees called the 
 Sequoia, which are wonderful for their 
 
 
 size. Their general appearance is like our 
 pine, or hemlock, trees, as 
 this picture shows. They 
 are found in groves of 
 giant trees, and where all 
 are so big together it is hard 
 to realize the immense sizes. 
 When full grown they be- 
 come about three hundred 
 feet high, and some reach al- 
 most four hundred feet. If 
 you ask the height of a 
 steeple that you know and 
 then imagine one of these 
 trees along side of it you 
 will get some idea how lii^h 
 they are. For instance, if 
 
 trees stood at the head of Wall street in 
 New York city beside the famous spire of 
 Trinity Church, the tree would overtop the 
 steeple by twenty-five to one hundred feet. 
 
 If in Philadelphia a full-grown sequoia 
 were planted at Broad and Market streets, 
 it would overtop the great tower of the 
 City Building as it now stands. In country 
 villages the steeples generally rise high 
 above the trees, but if any three of these 
 ordinary steeples were put on top of each 
 other one of these trees would still overtop 
 their highest point. 
 
 In Calaveras county, California, are two 
 large groves of these trees. Here is a pict- 
 ure of the stump of a sequoia which by 
 boring, and chiseling, and sawing was cut 
 down some years ago. The picture is from 
 a photograph and is true to life. Near the 
 stump you see a little wooden building. 
 That is a dancing pavilion, and you will be 
 amused at the way it is made. When the 
 tree had been cut down they smoothed off 
 the top of the stump very nice and level. 
 
 one of these Then they filled out the irregular edges of 
 
WONDERFUL TREES. WEIGHING BABY SISTER. 
 
 217 
 
 the stump, so as to make it a true circle. 
 Around this they Huilt the enclosure and 
 roofed it over. This made a room so bif 
 
 o 
 
 that there is a bench all around the inner 
 side of the enclosure and a platform at one 
 side, and yet the clear space on the top of 
 that stump is so large that four sets, of 
 eight persons each, can with ease dance 
 upon it at one time. 
 
 In this grove is one old, dead tree, through 
 
 the trunk of which a man can ride on horse- 
 back for about a hundred feet, going in at 
 one end and out at the Other. When the 
 horses came out, the gentleman who writes 
 this account and a big, fat one, too, he 
 is walked into the tree and walked to- 
 ward its top, until he came to an open 
 knot-hole, through which he clambered 
 without difficulty and leaped to the ground 
 below. 
 
 A KINDLY WELCOME TO THE NEW PETS. 
 
 H 
 
 WEIGHING 
 
 OW much does baby sister weigh ? 
 We put her in the scale to-day, 
 And all the weights, as I am told, 
 Were made of sugar and of gold. 
 
 The gold and sugar high were piled, 
 While baby sister crowed and smiled, 
 
 BABY SISTER. 
 
 Until the sugar and the gold 
 
 Were more than any scale would hold. 
 
 How much does baby sister weigh ? 
 I heard my mother softly say 
 That she was much too sweet to-day 
 For any kind of scale to weigh. 
 
218 
 
 THE STORY OF THE YEAR. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE YEAR. 
 
 BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
 THE snow covered the fields and the fields. The farmer, wrapped in warm cloth- 
 
 hills, and lay deep in the streets and ing, sat in his sleigh, and beat his arms 
 
 lanes. It whirled in the faces of travellers, across his chest to keep off the cold. The 
 
 and fell in great bunches from the house- horses ran till they smoked. The snow* 
 
 tops. Toward evening it stopped snowing, crackled, the sparrows hopped about in the 
 
 paths were cleared, and the sparrows 
 came fluttering forth in search of 
 food. " Tweet, tweet," said one, 
 "they call this a New Year, but we 
 might better have kept the old one." 
 
 " When will spring come ? " asked 
 another. 
 
 "When the stork returns, but he 
 is very uncertain, and here in the 
 city they know nothing about him. 
 We will fly away into the country and 
 look for spring." 
 
 And away they flew. 
 
 In the country it was really winter, a few 
 degrees colder than in the town. The 
 sharp winds blew over the snow-covered 
 
 wheel-ruts, and shivered, crying: "Tweet, 
 tweet; when will spring come? It is very 
 
 long n comng. 
 
 " Very long, indeed," sounded over the 
 field, from the nearest snow-covered hill. 
 It might have been the echo which people 
 
A SNOW STORM IN THE CITY. 
 
 219 
 
220 
 
 THE STORY OF THE YEAR. 
 
 heard, or perhaps the words of that won- 
 derful old man, who sat high on a heap of 
 snow, regardless of wind or weather. He 
 was all in white. He had long white hair, a 
 pale face, and large clear blue eyes. "Who 
 is that old man ? " asked the sparrows. 
 
 " I know who he is," said an old raven, 
 who sat on the fence. "It is Winter, the 
 old man of last year ; he is not dead yet, as 
 the calendar says, but acts as guardian to 
 little Prince Spring, who is coming. 
 
 One week passed, and then another. The 
 forest looked dark, the hard-frozen lake lay 
 like a sheet of lead. Large black crows 
 flew about in silence ; it was as if nature 
 slept. At length a sunbeam glided over the 
 lake, and it shone like burnished silver. 
 The white form of Winter sat there still, 
 with his unwanclering gaze fixed on the 
 south. He did not perceive that the snowy 
 carpet seemed to sink, as it were, into the 
 earth ; that here and there a little green 
 patch of grass appeared, and that these 
 patches were covered with sparrows. 
 
 " Tee-wit, tee-wit ; is spring coming at 
 last?" 
 
 Spring! How the cry resounded over 
 field and meadow, and through the dark- 
 brown woods, where the fresh green moss 
 still gleamed on the trunks of the trees; and 
 from the south came the first two storks 
 flying through the air, and on the back of 
 each sat a lovely little child, a boy and a 
 girl. They greeted the earth with a kiss, 
 and wherever they placed their feet white 
 flowers sprung up from beneath the snow. 
 Hand in hand they approached the old ice- 
 man, Winter, embraced him and clung to his 
 breast; and as they did so, in a moment all 
 three were enveloped in a thick, clamp 
 mist, dark and heavy, that closed over them 
 like a veil. The wind arose with mighty, 
 
 rustling tone, and cleared away the mist. 
 Then the sun shone out warmly. Winter 
 had vanished away, and the beautiful chil- 
 dren of Spring sat on the throne. 
 
 Wherever the two children wandered 
 flowers sprang up and the birds sang. 
 They sat down on the green grass, and, 
 holding out each other's hands, they sang 
 and laughed and grew. The gentle rain 
 fell on them, but it only made them happier. 
 How beautiful everything was ! Many an 
 old dame came forth and shuffled about 
 with great delight to find everything grow- 
 ing again. 
 
 Days and weeks went by and the girl of 
 Spring had become the wife of Summer. 
 The warm air waved the corn, as it grew 
 golden in the sun. The trees were laden 
 
 o 
 
 with fruit. Great clouds rolled across the 
 sky, and showers drenched the earth. At 
 last the fruits ripened, and the nuts grew 
 brown on the trees. The scythes of the 
 reapers gleamed in the harvest fields. The 
 wife of Summer saw the storks fly over, 
 and she grew chilly, ami wished to go back 
 with them to the land of her childhood. 
 
 The forest leaves became more and more 
 and more yellow, leaf after leaf fell, and 
 the stormy winds of Autumn howled. 
 Upon the fallen, yellow leaves, lay the 
 queen of the year, looking up with mild 
 eyes, and her husband stood by her. A 
 gust of wind swept through the foliage, 
 and the leaves fell in a shower. The sum- 
 mer queen was gone, but a butterfly, the 
 last of the year, flew through the cold air. 
 Damp fogs came, icy winds blew. The 
 ruler of the year appeared with hair white 
 as snow, but he knew it not; he thought 
 snow-flakes falling from the sky covered 
 his head, as they decked the green fields 
 with a thin, white covering of snow. The 
 
FIXED FOR COLD WEATHER. 
 
 221 
 
222 
 
 THE STORY OF THE YEAR. 
 
 ice glittered, the snow crackled, and in the 
 still air old Winter clinched his fists. Then 
 came the sparrows again out of the town, 
 and asked : " Who is that old man ? " The 
 
 raven sat there still, or it might be his son, 
 and he answered : 
 
 " It is Winter. He is watching for the 
 Spring, which is coming." 
 
 IN A COLD COUNTRY. 
 
 LITTLE people who live in the South 
 will wonder at the picture "Fixed 
 for Cold Weather," on page 221. They 
 never need to bundle up as this little lad is 
 bundled ; they have no need of snow-shoes, 
 one of which he holds in his hand ; nor did 
 they ever see the ground, the housetops, 
 and the trees buried in the snow. 
 
 One bright little boy from the far South 
 came North a few years ago during the 
 winter season. He had never seen the 
 streams frozen. All he knew about ice was 
 as he had seen it in the refrigerator and ice- 
 
 O 
 
 pitcher at home. Where ice came from he 
 never had thought. One cold morning he 
 ran out to a little stream near the house 
 where he was staying, and to his surprise 
 he found the water hard and still. He 
 threw a stick, as he had often done before, 
 but there was no splash, and the stick slid 
 away over the smooth surface. 
 
 For a while the little fellow looked in sur- 
 prise and wonder, then he ran to the house, 
 calling, " Manma, mamma ; the water has 
 gone to sleep ! " Now the little lad in the 
 
 picture would hardly ever know the water 
 to wake up. His home is far up in Canada, 
 where the summers are short, and the 
 winters are long and very cold. The snow 
 falls early in the season, and becomes so 
 deep that the roads are continually blocked 
 by it. Walking then is exceedingly difficult. 
 For this reason people use snow-shoes, by 
 which they are able to glide over the surface 
 of the snow without running any risk of 
 sinking into it. 
 
 The boy in the picture has one of his 
 snow-shoes in his hand, so you can at once 
 see what they are like. They are from two 
 to seven feet long, and are fastened to the 
 sole of the foot by leather strings. Thus 
 furnished, one \vho is accustomed to their 
 use can travel over snow more rapidly than 
 he could walk on a solid pavement, or a 
 hard road. 
 
 Sickly or weak persons cannot long en- 
 dure cold and icy climates, but those of 
 robust health, not only live to a good old 
 age, but greatly enjoy life in these cold 
 countries. 
 
 PIN MONEY. 
 
 LITTLE Nellie was paid by her mother 
 one cent a dozen for pins picked up 
 from the carpet to keep the baby from get- 
 ting them. 
 
 "Nurse," said Nellie, as her stock of pen- 
 nies increased, "do you know what I am 
 going to do when I get six cents ? " 
 
 " No," answered the nurse. 
 
 " I am going to buy a whole paper of 
 pins, and scatter them all over the floor, 
 and then pick them up. That's the way to 
 get pennies fastest," replied the young 
 financier, who was then barely five years 
 old. 
 
CHARLES DICKENS AND HIS CAT. 
 
 223 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS AND HIS CAT. 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS was a very Suddenly the candle by which he read 
 
 famous English writer, and he was a went out, but, being anxious to read on, he 
 
 great lover of cats. One night the family relighted it, puss meanwhile stirring and 
 
 were all out except Mr. Dickens, who was purring about on the table top. A moment 
 
 busy reading, his pet cat purring upon the later the light flickered, and, looking up, he 
 
 table at his elbow. At last puss began to saw the cat deliberately put its paw on the 
 
 move around on the table and rub up against wick and extinguish the flame. Mr. Dickens 
 
 Mr. Dickens, but he was so much interested then lit the candle again, took puss in his 
 
 in his book that he paid no attention to the cat. lap and petted it till the family came home. 
 
THE GLUTTONOUS BEAR. 
 
 THE GLUTTONOUS BEAR. 
 
 r I ^HERE was once a bear who was very 
 JL fond of dainties and sweetmeats. 
 One evening he stole into an apothecary's 
 cellar. There were a great many pots, 
 basins, and barrels, filled with sweet and 
 sour and poisonous stuffs. 
 
 " Capital ! " he said, in a low voice. 
 "Here are plenty of dainties. Now for a 
 feast." 
 
 He put his nose into the first barrel he 
 came to, and smelled the liquor which it 
 contained. 
 
 " Brr," he said, shaking his head to and 
 fro. " This smells like soot from the chim- 
 ney. But here is a pot with a fine yellow 
 jelly I wonder how it smells." 
 
 He put his nose to the pot, and was de- 
 lighted with the smell. 
 
 "That's it!" he said. "That's the thing 
 for me ! " 
 
 He pushed out his tongue, and began 
 
 licking, and kept on licking till he had 
 swallowed the whole. He then sneaked 
 away to the forest, and laid himself down 
 in his den. 
 
 It was not long, however, before Mr. 
 Bruin became so sick that he could not lift 
 up his eyelids. The sweat broke out all 
 over his body. He stretched himself out 
 at full length, threw his legs up, and beat 
 the ground with his tail, as if he was thresh- 
 ing corn. 
 
 "Boo! Baa!" he groaned. "What 
 ails me ? Oh, dear, I'm choking ! I'll 
 vomit my heart out of my body. Woe's 
 me ! I'll never touch a pot again ; no, 
 never ; never, I say, in all my life 
 never ! " 
 
 Thus he groaned and roared till the 
 forest resounded. At length he got some 
 relief, and when he felt a little better, he 
 said to himself 
 
 " Dear me, that was a job ! I thought I 
 had swallowed the whole sea, together with 
 the moon and the stars. Whatever I may 
 do or may not do, I'll never taste dainties 
 again." 
 
 He then laid himself on his side, and fell 
 asleep, snoring as only a bear can snore. 
 
THE GLUTTONOUS/BEAR. 
 
 225 
 
 The next evening Mr. Bruin once more 
 
 went out a-hunting, and again passed by 
 the apothecary's cellar. 
 
 "No, no," said he; "catch me! I'll take 
 care this time." 
 
 So he passed on. But soon he stopped, 
 and looking back at the cellar he said 
 
 " I remember there were some very nice- 
 looking pots. I wonder what they contain. 
 Of course, I wouldn't taste anything. But 
 I might take a smell just a smell." 
 
 So he returned to the cellar, and began 
 snuffing at the pots. At length he stopped 
 at one that smelled very nicely. 
 
 "Well," he said, " this is better than ever. 
 I don't think I ever smelt anything so sweet 
 in my life. Just let me take one drop only 
 one single drop !" 
 
 He pushed out his tongue and tasted. It 
 was a strong poison, but sweet as honey. 
 He tasted again again again ; and then 
 fell down, dead as a door-nail ! 
 
 w 
 
 THE MOTHER HEN. 
 
 HAT care the mother hen Then, at the close of day, 
 Gives to her little brood ! When, in the golden West, 
 
 From early morn till evening gray The burning sun has sunk away, 
 She hunts about for food. She calls them all to rest. 
 
 And when she finds it " Cluck !" 
 She cries to one and all ; 
 
 And quickly every little chick 
 Responds to mother's call. 
 
 Beneath her outspread wings 
 The young ones safely lie, 
 
 Till the glad sun once more awakes 
 And flushes all the sky. 
 
220 
 
 A FISH THAT IS A FISHERMAN. A BATTLE OF BEASTS. 
 
 A FISH THAT IS A FISHERMAN. 
 
 H 
 
 ERE is a funny fish, and an old fisher- and line fastened to the end of his nose? 
 man is showing it to a little girl, How would you feel with a fishing-rod and 
 
 line on the end of your nose? Naturalists, 
 who are the people that study fishes and 
 other animals, call this fish the LopJiius Pis- 
 catorius. Isn't that a queer name ? Old 
 fishermen call it the daril-fisk. Isn't that 
 an awful name? For the sake of a better 
 name other people call it ti\z.jrog-fish. 
 
 See what a big, ugly head it has. Notice 
 its large eyes, its \\iclc mouth, and rows of 
 sharp teeth. Sometimes these fishes grow 
 to be two or three feet long. You may 
 think it strange that any nice little fish 
 would go near such big, ugly fellows as this. 
 No genteel fish does like their company, but 
 the frog-fish lies low on the bottom of the 
 stream, among the weeds and grasses, and 
 he waves his fishing-line about as little fishes 
 come along. The end of his line looks like 
 a nice piece of food, and the little fish goes 
 for it, but Mr. Frog-fish whisks it away, and 
 who is much amused, and a little scared by grabs the little fish in that terrible mouth, 
 it. This fish has a rod and line with which he from which there is no escape, but the little 
 fishes for other fish. Do you see his rod captive is cruelly eaten. 
 
 A BATTLE OF BEASTS. 
 
 ELSEWHERE in this book is a picture tushes with which he can rend an enemy, 
 of a battle between elephants and a provided he gets a fair blow at him. 
 tiger. Here is another battle of the beasts, In battles between these animals the bear 
 a polar bear and a brace of walruses being generally gets the better of the walrus. He 
 
 the combatants now. The walruses make 
 common cause in such attacks, especially 
 when the young are in danger, as, from the 
 
 is quick, while they are slow. He can strike 
 and bite, but they cannot use these means 
 so effectively as he. He has four feet on 
 
 little walrus in the picture, seems here to be which to caper around, but they have to 
 
 the case. But the walrus has no weapons wriggle, and roll, and drag themselves at 
 
 save his strong forearm, or flipper, with great disadvantage. No wonder, therefore, 
 
 which he can strike a fearful blow; and his that the bear usually conquers. 
 
BATTLE IN THE POLAR REGIONS. 
 
 15 
 
 227 
 
HUNTING JACK-RABBITS. 
 
 HUNTING JACK-RABBITS. 
 
 BY A BOY. 
 
 OUT in Kansas we have rare sport hunt- 
 ing jack-rabbits. Eastern boys can 
 hardly guess how much excitement there is 
 in it. We have other game, of course. 
 Deer and antelopes are quite common in 
 Edwards, and other southwestern counties ; 
 and the wolves that prowl over the prairies 
 are worse for our sheep and calves than 
 bears are, or ever were, in New England. 
 
 But the greatest sport of all is hunting 
 jack-rabbits. We hunt them on horseback, 
 with greyhounds. All the settlers in our 
 section keep one or more greyhounds on 
 purpose to hunt jack-rabbits. I went- fox- 
 hunting twice, with hounds, in Maine, and 
 did not have half the fun that I have had 
 out here, in Kansas, hunting "jacks." 
 
 Our jack-rabbit, I should say, is no such 
 little scrub as the Massachusetts rabbit, or 
 even the Maine hare. Jack is quite a beast, 
 and makes, roast or stewed, a pretty good 
 dish. Many a settler's family lived on jacks, 
 after the grasshoppers came. Our rabbit 
 has black legs and black ears, and a black- 
 ish head. When he stands up on his 
 haunches for a look around, he is nearly 
 three feet tall. His tail is long, and that is 
 black, too. But the body is a brownish 
 gray. I have seen jacks almost as large as 
 a small goat. Now and then one comes 
 across a tremendously large one so big 
 and tall, and long-eared, and so awfully 
 clumsy-looking, as fairly to make a fellow 
 stare, even when he is used to jacks. Gen- 
 erally, however, they do not weigh more 
 than fifteen or twenty pounds. 
 
 These jack-rabbits live right out on the 
 open prairie, and along the shallow river- 
 valleys, where there is not a bush, nor a 
 
 tree, anywhere in sight. Most of the grass, 
 except by the streams, is buffalo grass a 
 short, curly, fine grass ; but scattered about 
 are seen bunches, or rings, of taller grass, 
 two and a half or three feet high. These 
 rings of high grass are commonly not larger 
 across than a bushel-basket, but quite thick. 
 And right inside of the grass rings is where 
 the jacks hide. They hide in there, all 
 curled up, cuddled warm out of the prairie 
 wind, and well out of sight, too. You 
 scarcely ever see a jack stirring on the 
 prairie in the day-time, even in places where 
 they are really very numerous. Those 
 grass bunches are so thick that you may 
 pass close to one, and not see the jack 
 cuddled up in the middle of it; and if he 
 sees you, he will not stir, unless you kick 
 or strike into the grass. Then out he goes, 
 ten feet at one jump ; and, clumsy as he 
 looks, there is nothing that runs which can 
 catch him, if he gets twenty yards start 
 not even a greyhound. Away he flies, like 
 an old felt hat flopping along the ground 
 before the wind; and you think that the 
 hound will catch him in no time; but he 
 doesn't. Jack keeps just about two jumps 
 ahead, and will run one mile, or two, or all 
 day, just as you like. There is no such 
 thing as tiring one down, when once he has 
 had a good fair start, and has had a chance 
 to get his eyes fairly open, and catch his 
 wind. The only way we ever catch jack- 
 rabbits with hounds is to take them by sur- 
 prise, before they have time to lay them- 
 selves out for good steady leaping. 
 
 I have often laughed to see a wolf hunt 
 jack-rabbits. The wolf will sneak along, 
 crouched close to the ground, and work up 
 
HUNTING JACK-RABBITS. 
 
 229 
 
 to a ring of grass, then give a sudden jump 
 right into the midst of it. About one time 
 in fifty he will manage to seize the sleeping 
 jack. But commonly the rabbit will, in 
 some mysterious way, leap out from under 
 the wolf's very nose, and go twenty or thirty 
 feet, as if propelled by a single kick, then 
 stop and look. The wolf knows that the 
 game is up. I once saw a wolf sit down 
 and look hard at the rabbit, and sniff him 
 longingly; and the jack, not yet half awake, 
 sat and winked. But the wolf turned away 
 and went to another bunch of grass. He 
 knew better than to waste his strength 
 chasing a jack-rabbit. 
 
 The way we used to hunt jacks was to 
 start out eight or ten of us on our ponies 
 (and there are no horses in this country 
 fleeter than some of those Texas ponies), 
 with all the greyhounds we could muster 
 sometimes fifteen or twenty of them. Rid- 
 ing out on the prairie, we would now string 
 out in a line, with the dogs all running close 
 beside the ponies, and go at a gallop for 
 those rings of tall grass. Just as some 
 pony's forefeet were going into a bunch of 
 tall grass, out would leap a rabbit. The 
 greyhounds would be at close hauls, not two 
 yards from the rabbit's tail ; and everybody 
 knows how a greyhound will buckle down 
 to the ground and run, without so much as 
 a yip. The jack, waked up so suddenly, 
 would not have time to straighten out for 
 long leaps, and would tack, first right, then 
 left. In that way he would dodge one 
 hound, but in dodging one another would 
 grab him. That was the way we used to 
 hunt them. Sometimes we would by this 
 plan catch eighteen or twenty in an hour. 
 Oh, it was live sport! Such shouting and 
 cheering on ! Three or four jacks going at 
 once, and all crazy after them, at a dead 
 
 run ! The ponies would chase as eager as 
 the greyhounds. Why, I have seen more 
 excitement, and more downright, laughable 
 fun in a jack-rabbit hunt than in anything 
 else I ever witnessed. 
 
 But it is not the safest business in the 
 world riding at full speed and at a venture 
 across the prairie. For one is always liable 
 to run into a "buffalo wallow," or break ^ 
 through into some old burrow. Our Texas 
 ponies were pretty sure-footed little fellows; 
 but, of course, if a horse broke into a deep 
 hole he would go down in a heap, and his 
 rider would go headlong to the ground. I 
 once got a tremendous " fore-reacher " of 
 this sort. And here I should explain, per- 
 haps, that a "buffalo-wallow" is not a slough, 
 nor a pig-mire, but just a dry hole where a 
 bison has got down and dug with his horns, 
 and rolled and plowed himself into the dirt, 
 either to get rid of flies or vermin, or else, 
 perhaps, from some desire to get the fresh 
 earth into his hair. 
 
 The winter after the grasshoppers came 
 my brother and I started a " bone-team." 
 We were about cleared out in the way of 
 money ; we had land and lean cattle, but 
 nothing to eat. So we rigged up an old 
 prairie-schooner (large wagon), and put our 
 ponies to it, and went into the business of 
 drawing bones. Perhaps, too, I need to ex- 
 plain what a bone-team is. On those prairies 
 where buffalo and deer and antelope have 
 run so many years, there are vast quantities 
 of old bones lying about. In many tracts 
 the ground is fairly covered with them ; and 
 in the winter and spring, when the grass is- 1 
 off, and the sun shining, the plain at a dis- 
 tance looks white, as if covered with frost 
 or ice. The turf is full of bones of all sorts 
 and sizes ; and scattered about are some 
 enormous buffalo skulls, with horns on them. 
 
230 
 
 HUNTING BACK-RABBITS. 
 
 These old bones are of some commercial 
 value. At almost every station of the rail- 
 roads across the plains there is an agency 
 for the purchase of bones. They are taken 
 East, and manufactured into fertilizers, like 
 superphosphate of lime. The price paid a 
 
 year ago at the stations of E County 
 
 was five dollars per ton. My brother and 
 I drew in rather over a hundred tons during 
 
 most of the hunting; my brother was a little 
 lame that season from a "hoist" he had re- 
 ceived off a reaper. We had one of the 
 fleetest ponies for running I have ever seen. 
 In color she was so light as almost to look 
 silvery, and had both her fore legs white. 
 Her hair was very short and thin. She was 
 slim and trig oh, a delicate little creature! 
 In weight she was not much above seven 
 
 the winter. It is no great job to pick up a 
 ton of those bones in many places, but we 
 had to haul ours nearly twenty miles; for 
 the most of the land near the railway has 
 now been taken up, or at least cleared of 
 bones. It was a three-days' trip to go out 
 on the plains and get a load. With our 
 team of six ponies we commonly drew in 
 three tons. While out on these bone trips, 
 we made considerable account of jack-rab- 
 bits ; we had two greyhounds on purpose 
 to hunt them, and to hunt antelopes. I did 
 
 hundred pounds; but ah! she would skim 
 those plains like a goshawk. We called 
 her Gilly. 
 
 I would get up before sunrise, call in 
 Sport and Grip (the two greyhounds), then 
 mount Gilly, and start after a jack for break- 
 fast. One morning we got after a pretty 
 big jack, and ran him out past a large white- 
 topped "schooner," where an emigrant party 
 had hauled up for the night. Two men and 
 a woman were stirring about it ; and I saw 
 two nice, rosy girls peering out of the back 
 
HUNTING JACK-RABBITS. 
 
 231 
 
 end of the wagon. They looked so inspir- 
 ing- that I thought I would show them a little 
 fancy riding. So I touched Gilly and told 
 her to go. At that she just reached out 
 those white legs of hers, and straightened 
 to it. Oh, she went like an arrow after the 
 hounds, and past that schooner, and away 
 on across the prairie. And, right in the 
 midst of her keenest run, she broke into a 
 wolf-hole ! Believe it or not, the mare 
 turned a complete somersault ! But I 
 wasn't in the saddle when she turned it: 
 I had gone on, and went on : went on my 
 head, went on my knees, went every way. 
 I was more than fifty feet from the pony 
 when I finally stopped ! Sport and Grip 
 pulled up to see me go, and the jack he 
 stopped and looked. The wolf came out 
 of the ground and looked, too. They were 
 all so interested in it that they entirely for- 
 got each other. And back at the schooner 
 I saw six or seven men, women and girls, 
 standing motionless, with their mouths open. 
 When I, at length, got up, such a "ha! ha!" 
 came wafted on the wind as I shall not soon 
 forget. It hurt me outrageously. I got up 
 feeling as if I were a hundred and one years 
 old. As for the jack, he had taken leave ; 
 and the dogs were barking into the wolf- 
 hole. 
 
 Another young fellow, named Adney 
 Clark, and myself once ran a jack-rabbit 
 under a settler's house, which stood out by 
 itself on the prairie. The rabbit ran up to 
 it and crawled under the sill. The hounds 
 could not get under. We went round the 
 
 house and then into it. There was no one 
 at home. We were determined to have that 
 jack, anyhow. So we pulled up two or 
 three boards of the floor, and Ad took the 
 fire-poker and got down under the floor to 
 poke out the jack. He had not been down 
 there long when he uttered a screech, and 
 came out at one jump, with a great big 
 rattle-snake hanging to his boot-leg! I 
 grabbed a chair and killed the snake. Ad 
 was so weak he could not stand alone, and 
 could scarcely speak. I pulled off his boot, 
 but there was no mark on him. Fortu- 
 nately, the snake had only bitten his boot- 
 leg. We then pulled out the jack and the 
 hounds grabbed him. 
 
 And at another time, when eight or ten 
 of us were out racing down jacks, with as 
 many as thirteen hounds, we all got after 
 one big fellow, and at length ran him into 
 an old deserted " dig-out." 
 
 A "dig-out," or "root-out," is a house dug 
 in the ground, and the floor of it is often 
 four or five feet below the level of the soil. 
 The door of this one was gone. The jack, 
 being pretty hard run, darted in there. In 
 went the whole pack of hounds after him, 
 and there was no end of a pow-wow. 
 Round and about they went, yelping and 
 growling down there in the dark. We 
 thought there wouldn't be much left of that 
 jack when, by and by, out he came and 
 leaped away, leaving all the hounds in 
 there tumbling over one another, and the 
 end of the business was that we had to go 
 in and haul those dogs out by the legs. 
 
232 
 
 IN THE COLDEST REGIONS. A JURY OF CATS. 
 
 IN THE COLDEST REGIONS. 
 
 WHICH way would one travel to get 
 to the coldest parts of the world ? 
 To the far north, or even to the very far 
 south, would bring the traveller to the cold- 
 est of all cold places. We call the coldest 
 places of the world the North Pole and the 
 South Pole. So far as we know there is no 
 land at the South Pole, but there is land 
 about the North Pole; and from America, 
 Europe and Asia men have pushed away 
 to the north, getting very near the point 
 known as the Pole, but never quite reach- 
 
 ing it. 
 
 It is a fearfully hard task to journey in the 
 Arctic regions, as those about the North 
 Pole are called. Ice and snow are there in 
 abundance. For months together the sun 
 is never seen. Fresh fish and meat cannot 
 be had except by dangerous hunting expe- 
 ditions, while no vegetable food can be 
 found at all. Men cannot tell when they 
 are on ice which floats on the water, or 
 which rests on the solid land, so that they 
 sometimes find themselves afloat on an im- 
 mense cake of ice, when they thought them- 
 selves safe on land. Sometimes there are 
 great cracks in the ice, into which loose 
 snow drifts, but through which men fall into 
 
 the water, or into deep icy pits, where they 
 may be badly hurt. 
 
 The light is very severe when the sun 
 does shine. They have to wear great 
 goggles to protect their eyes from the 
 glare, and also from the keen, cutting crys- 
 tals of snow which are driven before the 
 fierce winds. One of the men in the pict- 
 ure has his eyes protected in this way. 
 The other has his spy-glass, and both are 
 looking anxious'y, as if lost in the snow- 
 storm which is raging. They are looking 
 so intently that they do not see the white 
 bird which is flying quite near them, and 
 which they would be glad to shoot for food. 
 
 What do you think of the bear on which 
 one of them sits? Is it a tame bear, or is 
 it dead ? No doubt it is a bear they have 
 shot, and they may be looking for their 
 companions to come and help them carry 
 the carcass to their ship, or hut, or tent, as 
 the case may be. Bears, birds and fishes 
 are the only animals of these cold regions 
 which men expect to eat. These they trap, 
 or shoot, whenever they can. Little people 
 who have their comfortable homes, and 
 their nicely cooked meals, may be very 
 thankful they are not in the Arctic regions. 
 
 A JURY 
 
 BETTY BROWN went one day to her 
 father's office on an errand. He was 
 a lawyer, and having business in the court- 
 room he took Betty with him, and she sat 
 and listened and looked with wonder as a 
 trial went on, and the jury brought in a ver- 
 dict which sent a man to prison. On her 
 way home, and after she reached home, 
 
 OF CATS. 
 
 Betty was full of the trial she had seen. 
 She could talk of nothing else. 
 
 Just before Betty went to bed her little 
 kitten jumped into her lap. Betty was just 
 then telling again of what she had seen in 
 the court-room, and impatiently and roughly 
 she gave the poor kitten a push which sent 
 it sprawling on the floor. Her mother then 
 
IN THE COLDEST REGIONS. 
 
 233 
 
23-1 
 
 A JURY OF CATS. 
 
 talked with the little girl very seriously for 
 being so cruel to a little kitten, and the re- 
 sult was that Betty went crying to her 
 bed. 
 
 During the night Betty dreamed a very 
 funny dream. She dreamed that while play- 
 ing with her doll and wooden horse, a great 
 gray cat came and told her she must go to 
 
 to the big gray cat, " What have you to say 
 about this little girl ? " 
 
 " She shoved her kitten off her lap onto 
 the floor," said the gray cat, very solemnly. 
 
 " Did she have any cause for doing so ? " 
 asked the judge. 
 
 " Not the least," answered the gray cat. 
 " Her kitten is as good as it can be, and 
 
 court, and be tried for hurting her kitten. 
 Betty cried and begged, but it was of no 
 use; off to court the gray cat led her. She 
 reached the same court-room she had seen 
 during the day, but, instead of men, cats 
 were everywhere cats for lawyers, cats for 
 jurymen, cats for officers, and a cat for 
 judge. 
 
 The judge was a great white cat with 
 spectacles, and he took up his pen and said 
 
 it just jumped on her lap, out of pure good 
 will to her, but she shoved it away, and 
 plump it came down on the floor. That is 
 why I have arrested her and brought her 
 here." 
 
 "This is a very bad case," said the judge, 
 addressing the jury of twelve cats. "It may 
 be necessary to send this little girl to the 
 cat prison, or even to be more severe with 
 her. However, Gentlemen of the Jury, I 
 
A JURY OF CATS. PLAYING GRANDMA. 
 
 235 
 
 leave it with you to say what her punish- 
 ment shall be." 
 
 Then all the jury cats began to mew, and 
 directly they became very much excited, 
 puffing their tails, arching their backs, spit- 
 ting at each other, and howling most dread- 
 fully. The other cats went at other occupa- 
 tions, some writing, some rolling over for 
 a nap, and others mewing at each other. 
 Meanwhile a big tabby cat sat and watched 
 the little girl as if she were a mouse. 
 
 At last the jury quieted down, and all the 
 
 cats came to order. Then an old cat arose 
 in the middle of the room and said, " How 
 say you, Gentlemen of the Jury, shall we 
 send this little girl to cat-prison, or shall we 
 scratch her eyes out on the spot ? " At 
 this question all the cats set up a terrible 
 yell, and Betty, scared almost to death, 
 awoke, and, sitting upright in bed, she 
 rubbed her eyes over and over again, to 
 be sure she still had them, and from the 
 yard below she heard her own pet kitten, 
 with several other cats, serenading her. 
 
 PLAYING GRANDMA. 
 
 'T^OOTSEY " was the name they used 
 JL for little Jennie Jones. She was a 
 
 cute little girl about three years old. Her 
 dear old grandma thought everything of 
 Tootsey, and Tootsey thought everything 
 of grandma. 
 
 Tootsey thought her grandma was so- 
 nice that she wanted to be like her. Toot- 
 sey's flaxen locks did not look much like 
 grandma's silvery hair, nor did her pure, 
 plump face look much like grandma's 
 wrinkled cheeks, so Tootsey hit on a new 
 plan to make herself look like dear old 
 grandma. 
 
 One day, when grandma was out of the 
 room, Tootsey tied on grandma's apron, 
 and put her little head into grandma's cap. 
 Then she clambered into grandma's chair, 
 and took up grandma's knitting, trying to 
 do the knitting work as grandma did it. 
 But, alas for Tootsey, it soon appeared that 
 she was not like grandma very much, for 
 Tootsey soon pulled out the needles, un- 
 ravelled the yarn, and spoiled the work oi> 
 which grandma had spent many, many 
 days. 
 
236 WATCHING FOR A LEOPARD. 
 
 WATCHING FOR A LEOPARD. 
 
 BY PAUL DU CHAILLU. 
 
 ONE night I heard a great cackling of hand and leading the goat with the other, 
 my fowls, which perched on a tree I tied the animal in the most secure manner, 
 near my hut; and soon afterward I heard so that the leopard would have trouble to 
 them flying away in every direction. I carry it off at once. I went and seated my- 
 jumped from my couch and opened the self on the ground, my back being pro- 
 door, thinking some one was trying to steal tected by the trunk of the huge tree I have 
 some of them. just spoken of and with my face toward the 
 
 The moon was still shining, so that it was goat. I am sure I was not more than six 
 
 not perfectly dark as I stepped into the yards from it. 
 
 yard ; when, lo ! I was struck with terror to I extinguished the torch, so that it was 
 
 find myself face to face with a tremendous pitch dark. At first I could not see a yard 
 
 leopard. How big he looked ! I was so off; but at last my eyes became accustomed 
 
 astonished that, for the space of thirty to the darkness, and I was able to see the 
 
 seconds which seemed to me to be minutes goat quite plainly. The night was clear, 
 
 I did not stir a step. and the stars shone most beautifully over- 
 
 I looked at the leopard, which certainly head. 
 
 was not more than six yards from me ; and How strange everything looked around 
 
 the leopard, which probably was quite as me ! A chill ran through me as I gazed 
 
 much astonished at my sudden apparition, around ; everything seemed so sombre and 
 
 looked at me. I must have appeared to mournful I alone in such a place while, 
 
 him like a ghost. I seemed to be spell- now and then, the cry of the solitary owl 
 
 bound. So did the leopard. broke the deadness of the awful silence. 
 
 Suddenly I came to my senses, and, hav- The goat, in the meantime, was continu- 
 ing no weapon with me, made a rush for ally bleating ; for the little creature had an 
 the door, shut myself inside, seized my rifle instinctive dread of being alone in such a 
 and then opened the door in the quietest place. I was glad he cried, for I knew it 
 possible way. I now felt strong, having my would make the leopard come if the animal 
 gun in my hand, and so looked out for Mr. could only hear him. 
 
 Leopard; but the great beast had gone. I One hour passed away; no leopard! 
 
 fancy he was as much frightened as I was. Two hours, no leopard ! Three hours ; 
 
 The next day I bought a goat, and tied it nothing ! I began to feel tired, for I was 
 
 by the neck to a tree, just on the border of seated on the bare ground. Once or twice 
 
 the forest clearing. Not far from the tree I thought I heard snakes crawling, but it 
 
 where the goat was tied there was another was no doubt a fancy. 
 
 tree, a huge one, so I concluded to lie in I do not know, but I think I must have 
 
 wait there for the leopard; and at night, fallen asleep; for on a sudden, looking for 
 
 every preparation having been made, I the goat, I saw that it was not there. I 
 
 brought back the goat to the village. rubbed my eyes, for I really was not sure 
 
 About ten o'clock, with a torch in one of them; but I was not mistaken: no goat 
 
WATCHING FOR A LEOPARD. NED AND HIS LOFTY STILTS. 
 
 237 
 
 \vas to be seen! I got up, and my wonder 
 was great when, at the place where the goat 
 had been, I found blood. 
 
 I could not believe my senses. I lighted 
 the torch and looked at my watch: it was 
 four o'clock in the morning; and then I saw 
 distinctly the foot-prints of the leopard. 
 There was no mistake about it ; the leopard 
 had come, killed, and carried away the 
 
 goat, and during that time I was fast asleep ! 
 Just think of it ! I must have slept al- 
 most two hours, and I felt thankful that the 
 leopard had taken the goat instead of my- 
 self. It would have been a dreadful feeling 
 if I had ^een awakened by being carried 
 away in the jaws of the leopard, his teeth 
 deep into my body ; and the thing might 
 really have happened. 
 
 NED AND HIS LOFTY STILTS. 
 
 A 
 
 LITTLE boy, whose name was Ned, 
 Had funny notions in his head ; 
 He wished the lot of birds to share, 
 And soar, and sweep, high in the air. 
 
 He tried balloons, he made him wings, 
 And kites, and lots of funny things, 
 But all in vain, he could not fly, 
 Nor like an eagle mount on high. 
 
 And so a pair of stilts he made, 
 
 And used them well, though some afraid, 
 
 Until, without a doubt or care, 
 He stalked around high in the air. 
 
 At last he made his stilts so tall 
 That from^ a window he would crawl ; 
 To get upon them then he'd walk 
 Among the trees with birds to talk. 
 
 One day, as Ned was strutting round, 
 Two frisky pigs down on the ground 
 About the stilts began to play, 
 In spite of all that Ned could say. 
 
 At last, by an unlucky shove, 
 The stilts upset, and from above 
 Poor Ned came tumbling to the ground 
 And sank so deep he ne'er was found ! 
 
238 
 
 SEALS LEARNING TO SWIM. CORNERING THE BOYS. 
 
 SEALS LEARNING TO SWIM. 
 
 SEALS are such elegant swimmers, that 
 anybody who ever saw them swim 
 would think they always had known how. 
 But seals have to learn to swim. Until the 
 baby seal is a month or six weeks old it is 
 not able to swim at all. If he is pitched out 
 into the water a rod from the shore, his 
 bullet-like little head will drop instantly 
 below the surface, and his tail will flap help- 
 lessly on it. Drowning is the question of 
 only a few minutes, the stupid little creature 
 not knowing how to raise his immersed head 
 and gain the air again. 
 
 After they become a month or more old, 
 their instinct drives them to the margin of 
 
 O 
 
 the surf, where an alternate ebbing and 
 flowing of its wash covers and uncovers the 
 rocky or sandy beaches. They first smell, 
 and then touch, the moist pools, and flounder 
 in the upper wash of the surf, which leaves 
 them as suddenly high and dry as it im- 
 mersed them at first. 
 
 After this beginning they make slow and 
 clumsy progress in learning the knack of 
 swimming. There is not the slightest 
 supervision by the mother or father of the 
 baby seal, in this respect, from the first 
 moment of its birth, until it leaves for the 
 North Pacific, full fledged with amphibious 
 power. 
 
 For a week or two, when in deep water, 
 the young seals continue to flounder about 
 in the most awkward manner, thrashing the 
 
 o 
 
 water as little dogs do with their forefeet, 
 making no attempt whatever to use their 
 hinder ones. 
 
 The baby seal, when launched out for the 
 first time beyond his depth, struggles hard, 
 his mouth opens, and his eyes fairly pop- 
 ping. He turns instantly to the beach, ere 
 he has fairly struck out from the point 
 whence he launched in, and, as the reced- 
 ing swell which at first carried him off his 
 feet and out, now returning, leaves him high 
 and dry, for a few minutes he seems so- 
 weary that he weakly crawls out beyond its 
 swift returning wash, and coils himself im- 
 mediately to take a nap. 
 
 He sleeps, perhaps, half an hour, then 
 awakes apparently rested, and at his swim- 
 ming lesson he goes again. By repeated 
 attempts he becomes familiar with the water, 
 and acquainted with his own power over 
 that element, which is to be his real home 
 and his whole support. 
 
 Once well able to swim the young seal 
 fairly revels in a new happiness. He and 
 his fellow-seals play with zest, and chatter 
 like our own children in the kinder-gartens, 
 swimming in endless evolutions, twisting, 
 turning or diving, and, when exhausted, 
 drawing their plump, round bodies up again 
 on the beach. Shaking themselves dry, as 
 young dogs would do, they either go to 
 sleep on the spot, or have a lazy, terrestrial i 
 frolic among themselves. 
 
 CORNERING THE BOYS. 
 
 BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE. 
 
 ONLY a few days before they moved ing immoderately. Suspecting that she 
 the capital, a worthy lady of Peoria, was the cause of their disrespectful mirth, 
 one morning, detected her two sons laugh- the good woman involuntarily loosened 
 
CORNERING THE BOYS. THE OSTRICH. 
 
 239 
 
 her slipper, and then called up the young " Now, my boys, what were you both laugh- 
 
 ing at?" 
 
 Boys (in a triumphant shout) . " We were 
 both laughing at once ! " 
 
 The good lady summoned all her ener- 
 gies for a final effort, and resolved to corner 
 the boys by a settling question. 
 
 " Now, then, I want you to tell me, Tom, 
 
 culprits. 
 
 " Thomas, what made you laugh ? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 " Nobody made me laugh ; I laughed on 
 purpose," answered Thomas, in assumed 
 innocence. 
 
 " None of your impudence, sir. John, 
 why were you laughing at the door just what made John laugh and you laugh?" 
 now ? " Tom. " John didn't laugh a new laugh ; it 
 
 John (eagerly). " Wasn't laughing at the was the same old laugh ! " 
 door ; I was laughing at Tom." Neither of the boys got whipped ; the 
 
 "And I was laughing at John," answered slipper slid back to its accustomed place, 
 Tom. and to this day nobody knows what those 
 
 The matron assumed a dignified attitude, boys laughed at. 
 
 THE OSTRICH. 
 
 THE African Ostrich is the largest bird 
 in the world. It is seven or eight 
 feet high, and is therefore a great deal taller 
 than a man. It has been sometimes called 
 the Camel-bird, because its foot is only two- 
 toed, and looks like that of the camel. 
 
 Like that useful animal, the ostrich is 
 fitted to live in dry and sandy regions. It 
 eats wild melons, the seeds of grasses and 
 grain, the tops and buds of various shrubs 
 and plants, and, in fact, nearly all kinds of 
 food which it can find. It is very fond of 
 the wild melons ; for these juicy fruits give 
 it drink as well as food. 
 
 It swallows stones and other hard sub- 
 stances ; for these assist in digesting its 
 food. When kept in a cage or pen, the 
 ostrich swallows stones, pieces of brick, 
 leather, wood, nails, and, indeed, almost 
 everything it can find. One has been known 
 to swallow a whole brood of young ducks. 
 
 The eggs of this bird are very large, each 
 one weighing about three pounds, and con- 
 
 taining nearly as much food as twenty-four 
 hen's-eggs. The nest is only a hollow, or 
 cavity, which the ostrich makes in the sand. 
 The eggs are hatched mostly by the heat 
 of the sun ; but both the male and female 
 ostriches carefully watch their nest, and sit 
 upon the eggs during the night, so that they 
 may not get cold when the sun is not shin- 
 ing upon them. Several ostriches often lay 
 their eggs in one nest. 
 
 oo 
 
 Persons who are traveling in Africa often 
 eat the eggs of the ostrich ; and they have 
 a singular way of cooking them. They 
 break a hole in one end, and set the egg on 
 the other end over a fire ; they then stir the 
 contents of the egg with a stick while it is 
 cooking; and when the egg is done they 
 take it from the shell and eat it. 
 
 The shells of ostrich-eggs are much used 
 for drinking-cups, and for storing away water 
 against a time of need. When the Bush- 
 
 o 
 
 men have decided to plunder an enemy, 
 they first bury these shells full of water all 
 
240 
 
 THE OSTRICH. 
 
 along the route which they mean to follow, 
 and mark the places where they put them. 
 Then they go and attack their enemies, and 
 take away the cattle and everything which 
 theycan find. 
 
 Their enemies pursue them to regain 
 their property ; but, not having any water, 
 they soon perish in their march over the dry 
 and sandy deserts ; while the Bushmen get 
 all the water they need by digging up the 
 shells which they previously buried. 
 
 The ostrich is a very powerful bird ; and 
 it can strike terrible blows with its feet, 
 which are armed with strong, sharp nails. 
 It always kicks forward, not backward, jts 
 quadrupeds generally do. It can knock 
 over a hyena at a single stroke, and can 
 even ward off the attacks of the leopard. 
 
 It often inflicts very severe wounds upon 
 the dogs used in hunting it. Sometimes, 
 when closely pursued, and when it cannot 
 get away, it will even attack man, and 
 trample him under foot. Tame ostriches 
 sometimes attack strangers, and injure them 
 severely if the keeper is not at hand. 
 
 This bird has a deep, hoarse voice. It 
 utters, especially during the night, a roaring 
 sound, which is so much like that of a lion, 
 that even the natives are often deceived by 
 it, and think it to be the voice of the lion 
 himself. 
 
 The ostrich is hunted and killed for the 
 sake of its feathers, which are very beautiful 
 and costly. The natives shoot these birds 
 with poisoned arrows. Sometimes they 
 
 dig a hole in the sand, not far from the nest, 
 and lie concealed there till the bird comes 
 to lay its eggs or to sit upon them, when 
 they shoot and kill it. 
 
 Sometimes the hunter dresses himself in 
 an ostrich-skin, which he has prepared for 
 the purpose, and then goes among the flock 
 of ostriches, shooting them down, one after 
 another; the poor birds being entirely un- 
 aware that there is an enemy among them. 
 
 Horses are frequently used in hunting the 
 ostrich. Mounted on swift-footed steeds, 
 the hunters pursue the great bird over the 
 plains; but it runs so swiftly that it could 
 never be caught if its flight were straight 
 forward. It almost always runs in a curve 
 line; and as the hunter pursues a more 
 direct course, he is enabled to overtake it. 
 Sometimes, however, the horseman has to 
 pursue it for a long time, till it is quite ex- 
 hausted, before he can capture it. 
 
 The flesh of the ostrich is used for food, 
 but only when it is young; the flesh of the 
 old bird being very tough. The color of 
 the male ostrich is black, and that of the 
 female a grayish brown. The plumes of 
 the wings and tail are white, and these are 
 the feathers which are so highly prized. 
 
 This bird was known to the people who 
 lived many hundred years ago. The in- 
 habitants of ancient Rome used it for food ; 
 and it is said that six hundred ostriches were 
 killed at one time, in order that a certain 
 part of the head might be served up in a 
 single dish. 
 
 HOW THE PRISONER GOT OFF. 
 
 " T)RISONER, did you kill this boy?" 
 
 JL "I did, your honor; I cut his 
 
 throat. He shot me in the ear with a rub- 
 ber-sling, and " 
 
 " The prisoner is discharged ; and the 
 sheriff will give him back his knife, and tell 
 the janitor to sharpen it for him." 
 
 R. y. Burdette. 
 
2-12 
 
 FINNY FOLKS UNDER THE SEA. THE PRISONERS' FRIEND. 
 
 FINNY FOLKS UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 HERE is a peep at some of the people 
 \Yho live down under the sea ; 
 Wonderful folks, who live in the water, 
 So different from you and from me. 
 
 Over their heads the steamships go sailing, 
 And men float for pleasure or toil ; 
 
 Under them spreads the deep ocean's bottom, 
 Scattered with shipwreck and spoil. 
 
 Which would you rather sail over the ocean, 
 Or swim with the fish 'neath the water? 
 
 Ah, let them enjoy themselves there, if they can; 
 But I'll be mamma's son, or daughter. 
 
 THE PRISONERS' FRIEND. 
 
 WHEN the old Washington Market, 
 of New York, stood on the North 
 River, at the foot of Fulton Street, there 
 were several places among its crowded 
 stalls where live poultry, birds, and rabbits 
 were sold. The owners were not always 
 kindly attentive to the wants of these poor 
 creatures that they had for sale, but many 
 times the captives went both hungry and 
 thirsty. 
 
 Ned Wright, however, did what he could 
 to help them. He was errand boy for a 
 woman who dealt in vegetables, and he was 
 very busy early and late. But Ned had a 
 kind heart, and every time he went in or 
 out of the market he went by some one of 
 these live-animal stalls, and he always had 
 something to feed to the various prisoners 
 there. It would be a few nuts for a squirrel, 
 or a carrot for the geese, or corn for the 
 chickens, or celery tops for the ducks, or 
 cabbage leaves for the rabbits. He let 
 
 nothing go to waste at his own place of 
 work, and all the market people gave him 
 more or less of their stuff as he wanted it, 
 because they knew how devoted he was to 
 the comfort of all dumb animals. 
 
 It was not often that a fowl or an animal 
 remained in one of these cages beyond a 
 few days, for some would be sold, and others 
 would be brought for sale. But Ned used 
 to chirp and whistle at the cages so that 
 every bird, or other creature there, came to 
 associate Ned's noises with the getting of 
 their food, and this they learned very quickly. 
 \Yhenever he came near and whistled 
 there would be a stir in that place, and as 
 he came in among the cages, ducks and 
 geese, chickens and guinea-fowls, squirrels 
 and rabbits, would all be in commotion, and 
 they were always sure of something from 
 Ned's basket. So well did Ned do this 
 self-appointed task that he became known 
 as " The Prisoners' Friend." 
 
THE PRISONERS' FRIEND. 
 
 16 
 
 243 
 
244 
 
 BOBBING FOR APPLES. THE ELEPHANT'S RAGE. 
 
 BOBBING FOR APPLES. 
 
 B 
 
 OBBING there for apples, 
 A merry little crew ; 
 
 Every one is doing 
 
 The best that he can do. 
 
 Around a tub of water, 
 The merry children play ; 
 
 Which can bite the apple 
 When it floats his way ? 
 
 He who bites the apple 
 As it floats his way 
 
 Shall become a bridegroom 
 At an early day. 
 
 Do your best, my children ; 
 
 Bite it if you can ; 
 He who lives a bachelor 
 
 Is but half a man. 
 
 Do your best, my girlies; 
 
 Don't you be afraid ; 
 Better wet your aprons now 
 
 Than die an old maid. 
 
 So we bob for apples 
 
 In life's solemn play ; 
 Each one snapping at his chance 
 
 Ere it floats away. 
 
 THE ELEPHANT'S RAGE. 
 
 ELEPHANTS are not only the largest 
 of animals, but they are among the 
 most intelligent and noble. Some of their 
 noblest qualities are illustrated in the oppo- 
 site picture. A tiger has crept in among a 
 herd of elephants, probably to capture the 
 baby elephant that you see. The tiger could 
 kill such an elephant and carry it off bodily. 
 But the stealthy tiger has been detected, 
 and the elephants make common cause 
 against him. The baby runs to the mother 
 elephant, and the mother takes care of the 
 baby, just as a human mother would do ; 
 but the father elephant goes in all his fury 
 for the tiger. One tramp of his massive 
 foot would crush the tiger; one blow of his 
 
 trunk would knock him senseless, or one 
 thrust of his tusks would tear him into 
 fragments. All this the tiger knows and 
 dreads. 
 
 But elephants help one another in trouble, 
 and so others of the herd come rustling up. 
 They blow through their trunks, making a 
 trumpet-like noise, when in danger, and 
 every noble companion then rushes to the 
 rescue, and woe to the beast or the men 
 whom a herd of elephants charge. In such 
 a rush birds fly away screaming with fright, 
 and no beast dares to stand against it. 
 With such an army of defenders the baby 
 elephant has nothing to fear, even though a 
 tiger be seeking his baby life. 
 
ELEPHANTS DEFENDING THKTR YOUNG. 
 
 245 
 
246 
 
 SLEIGHING SONG. FUN AT THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 SLEIGHING SONG. 
 
 BY SNOW-BALL. 
 
 T INGLE, jingle, clear the way, 
 
 'Tis the merry, merry sleigh ; 
 As it swiftly scuds along, 
 Hear the burst of happy song. 
 Jingle, jingle, bells so bright, 
 Flashing o'er the pathway white. 
 
 Jingle, jingle, past it flies, 
 Sending shafts from hooded eyes; 
 See them, with their merry pranks, 
 Plowing now the drifted banks. 
 Jingle, jingle, here we go 
 Through the heaps of drifted snow. 
 
 Jingle, jingle, how they ring ! 
 Raise your voice, and shout, and sing; 
 Wrap the robes up, fold on fold, 
 To protect us from the cold. 
 Jingle, jingle, 'mid the storm 
 Fun and frolic keep us warm. 
 
 Jingle, jingle, down the hill, 
 O'er the bridges, past the mill ; 
 Faster now, but not too fast, 
 Winter will not always last. 
 Jingle, jingle, clear the way, 
 'Tis the merry, merry sleigh. 
 
 FUN AT THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 H 
 
 A ! ha ! ha ! Off to the sea-shore we 
 go! It's so hot at home, and the 
 city is just baking. At the sea-shore is lots 
 of fun for big folks and little folks. All are 
 happy there. At least all think they are 
 happy there. True, there is sometimes 
 what they call a " land breeze." Then the 
 air comes from the land side of the place, 
 and it comes laden with heat and mosquitos. 
 True, also, that the rooms at the seaside 
 boarding-houses arfe painfully small, and not 
 overly well furnished or well ventilated, but 
 that drives people from their rooms to the 
 board walk along the ocean's beach, and so 
 the healthfulness and happiness the rooms 
 do not give is found out of doors. 
 
 Rainy days at the sea-shore are unwel- 
 come visitors. To sit around the boarding- 
 houses is not so very entertaining, and to 
 ramble on the beach is rather damp fun. 
 But for all this there is fun at the sea-shore, 
 and it is both abundant and varied. 
 
 Some boys and girls never went to the 
 sea-shore. To show them sea-shore fun, 
 good Mr. Sphinx made pictures of what he 
 saw there, and here they are, true to life, as 
 everybody who has been there knows. 
 
 See those three little ladies in the water. 
 They are in a quiet place, where breakers 
 don't trouble them, and where they will not 
 wet their heads unless they try. Just under 
 them is a little duck who is too wet. She 
 has been struck by a breaker, and tumbled 
 in the swash, until she wades ashore to find 
 out if she really isn't drowned. 
 
 Quieter and drier fun is fishing, or playing 
 in the sand, or rowing on the still smooth 
 places which are sheltered from the sea, and 
 even sitting in the sand, with a heap at your 
 back to act as a cushion. Dogs after sticks, 
 and boys paddling with little boats, get their 
 fun, too, and out of bathing hours fun-seek- 
 ers of these sorts swarm about the little 
 dressing houses and frolic on the beach. 
 
SCENES AT THE SEASIDE. 
 
 247 
 
248 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 THE MAJOR'S BIG-TALK STORIES. 
 
 A GREEN MAN AND A "GREEN BEAST. 
 
 ONE season I got tired of African 
 vegetables, and concluded to grow 
 some corn and asparagus in a field about 
 half a mile from my house. I had inclosed 
 the land with a strong fence, and was on my 
 way to paint the fence green, with a view to 
 preserve the wood and keep off certain in- 
 sects. I had nothing in my hand but the 
 paint-pot, never dreaming that I should 
 meet any dangerous brute. 
 
 Just as I got inside the inclosure I heard 
 the trumpeting of an elephant, and saw a 
 huge animal charging at me, trunk in air. 
 It is very uncommon for an elephant to at- 
 tack a man unprovoked; but this one was a 
 " rogue," which, being driven out from the 
 herd, becomes the most dangerous and 
 vicious of its kind. 
 
 This I found out afterwards; for, at the 
 time, I bent all my thoughts, and all my 
 energies, upon reaching the nearest large 
 tree, knowing that I should not be safe in a 
 small one. My tree of refuge was a bao- 
 bab, small of its kind, not being over fifteen 
 feet in circuit. It was easy to climb, and so, 
 hardly knowing what I was doing, I took my 
 paint-pot with me. 
 
 On came the elephant, right through the 
 fence, which snapped in pieces before him, 
 only seeming to increase his rage. 
 
 I knew I was in for a long siege, unless 
 some one should come that way, for one of 
 my negro laborers was laid up, and the other 
 was out fishing, and might be out all night. 
 Nor was there any hope of escaping when 
 the brute went to water, for there was a 
 brook in sight of the tree. 
 
 After sunset the elephant did withdraw to 
 take a drink, but came straight back, and 
 
 lay down beneath the tree. About this 
 time I thought my case hopeless, for I was 
 already suffering from thirst. I might last 
 till the morning, but when the heat returned 
 I must faint and fall. I wondered whether 
 it would be pleasanter to be trampled by an 
 elephant, or to poison myself with green 
 paint. It was a .lucky thing that I thought 
 of that paint, for it put an idea into my head. 
 Acting on this idea I began to tease the 
 brute, and disturb his repose, by throwing 
 broken twigs and shouting at him. I wanted 
 to make him particularly mad with me, so 
 that he would let anybody else pass him un- 
 molested. 
 
 Then I took off my outer clothes, and 
 having made them fast where I had been 
 sitting, I painted myself green from head to 
 foot! Of course he could not see what I 
 was doing in the dark. 
 
 At the first signs of dawn I descended to a 
 lower bough, taking my snuff-box with me. 
 This I opened and threw at his head, think- 
 ing it advisable to impair his sense of smell, 
 if possible. It was lighter now, for it light- 
 ens quickly in Africa ; but he could not see 
 me, as I was of the same color as the leaves 
 of the baobab. So he merely fixed his gaze 
 on my clothes and sneezed. 
 
 Just then I slipped down to a still lower 
 branch, and from that to the ground, and 
 walked away coolly, in one sense of the 
 word for I was shivering with fright. 
 
 He looked at me for one moment only: 
 it was not a green man, nor a green monkey, 
 he was after. So I left him sneezing and 
 trumpeting furiously at my garments. 
 
 The elephant was wrong in believing the 
 adage that " the tailor makes the man." 
 
A QUEER KITE. 
 
 249 
 
 o 
 
 A QUEER KITE. 
 
 NCE upon a time there was an old The old lady had been to church, though 
 lady who was very fond of knitting, she felt as if she was losing time from her 
 
 Knit, knit, knit, she would, all the day long, 
 and sometimes almost all the night long. 
 She hardly took time to eat or to sleep, she 
 was so busy knitting. Sometimes she went 
 to church, and she would knit along the way, 
 and in church, too. Even when the minister 
 
 was praying the peo- 
 ple near her would 
 hear the subdued 
 motions as she knit 
 away on some stock- 
 ing or mitten. Her 
 ball of yarn, her 
 knitting needles, and 
 her unfinished work 
 were her constant 
 companions. Peo- 
 ple used to warn the old lady that some 
 harm would come to her if she did not take 
 more care of herself, and do less work with 
 her yarn. 
 
 At last Thanksgiving day came round, 
 and it w r as a terribly cold and windy day. 
 
 chief work. On her way home she knitted, 
 and knitted, as she walked. Directly she 
 came upon a noisy crowd of children. They 
 were romping at the roadside, and seemed 
 very much to enjoy the gale. 
 
 The old lady had become very thin and 
 light, but to keep out the cold she had piled 
 on an extra amount of clothes. Just as she 
 
250 
 
 A QUEER KITE. FUN AT THE SEASHORE. 
 
 was fairly among the little people a terrific 
 puff of wind came, and catching the old 
 lady's full garments it whiffed her off like 
 a kite or a balloon, away beyond the church 
 steeple, almost out of sight in a moment, 
 while all the crowd fairly yelled in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 The funny part of it was that the old lady 
 kept on knitting. Where she would come 
 down, or whether she would ever come 
 down, she did not know or care, so she got 
 her stocking done. As she went up she 
 dropped her ball of yarn. One little tot of 
 a girl picked it up, and the boys reeled it 
 off and paid it out as the old lady floated 
 on, just as they had learned to do in play- 
 ing with their kites. 
 
 At last the yarn was all unwound, and it 
 went floating off like a long tail to the hu- 
 man kite. By and by the wind ceased, and 
 the old woman sank gradually to the earth, 
 lighting softly in a freshly ploughed field, 
 and, they say, that while Heating up in the 
 air, the old lady really turned the heel of 
 her stocking, and got the foot well nigh 
 done. 
 
 Just where all this happened we really 
 don't know, but we should be glad to have 
 particulars from any one who can give 
 them. Meanwhile we advise boys and girls 
 not to be overly ambitious either to knit all 
 the time, or to soar upon the wings of the 
 wind. Somebody may get hurt either 
 way. 
 
 FUN AT THE SEASHORE. 
 
 HERE are more of Sphinx's funny 
 pictures of what you see by the 
 sea. There are one, two, three, four, five 
 five people so far off they look like little 
 specks. There's a tent and one, two, three 
 people, are they? in it. Give it up. 
 What are they, Mr. Sphinx? Why that's 
 a showman's booth. He fixes it on the 
 beach to catch the nickels from the people 
 who want to see his show. 
 
 What a looking boy ! Ha, ha ! He's 
 wearing his father's clothes. There, now, 
 that is fun. See the little girl float. That's 
 worth doing. I'd rather float that way than 
 in that sail boat, or as that big bird just over 
 her. 
 
 What is this? Why it's a basket of 
 bathing clothes, with a bathing hat on top. 
 They are ready to be hung out to dry. 
 And here's a crab. It may be fun for 
 
 crabs to catch at people with their awful 
 claws, but it's no fun for people who are 
 caught. 
 
 These men are diving. They have 
 anchored a hogshead near a hole, and off 
 this they dive, head first; one has gone, and 
 his feet only are out of water ; the other is 
 just ready to go. Here's a youngster 
 swimming, or pretending to, and here's 
 another splashing a little dark-skinned 
 bather; good fun for the splasher, but 
 maybe not so good for the one that is being 
 splashed. 
 
 These boys enjoy their raft in a quiet 
 pool, and probably their dog enjoys it too ; 
 so the people sitting in the sand under 
 umbrellas "strange mushrooms," Sphinx 
 calls them enjoy that; but, look out there, 
 little girls ; that breaker will wash you 
 away. 
 
SCENES AT THE SEASIDE. 
 
 251 
 
252 
 
 THE UGLY DUCKLING. 
 
 THE UCLY DUCKLINQ. 
 
 BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. 
 
 AN old duck was sitting on her nest, 
 waiting for her brood to hatch. She 
 was getting very tired, when one day the 
 shells began to crack, and one after another 
 the young ducks began to stick their heads 
 out and cry : " Peep, peep." The old duck 
 sat on, for the largest egg of all had not 
 yet hatched. "Well, how are you getting 
 on ? " asked an old duck, who paid her a 
 visit. 
 
 " One egg is not hatched yet," said the 
 duck. 
 
 " Let me see the egg that will not break," 
 said the old duck ; " I have no doubt it is a 
 turkey's egg. I was persuaded to hatch 
 some once, and after all my care and trouble 
 with the young ones, they were afraid of 
 the water. Yes, that is a turkey's egg; 
 take my advice, leave it where it is, and 
 teach the other children to swim." 
 
 " I think I will sit on it a little while 
 longer," said the duck; "as I have sat so 
 long already." 
 
 " Please yourself," said the old duck, and 
 she went away. 
 
 At last the large egg broke, and a young 
 one crept forth, crying : " Peep, peep." It 
 was very large and ugly. The duck stared 
 at it, and exclaimed : " It is very large, and 
 not at all like the others. I wonder if it 
 really is a turkey. We shall soon find it 
 out, however." 
 
 She took them directly to the water, and 
 the ugly duckling plunged in and swam as 
 well as the rest. 
 
 But the little thing was so ugly that the 
 others all fought it, and took its food away, 
 and as it grew its life became a burden. 
 Finally he could stand it no longer, and he 
 ran away and went to a moor, where the 
 
 wild ducks were, who treated him very well. 
 In a few days some sportsmen came with 
 their dogs, and there was a great fluttering 
 among the ducks. Many of them were 
 shot, and the ugly duckling was so fright- 
 ened that he crept under some rushes and 
 stayed all day and all night. 
 
 The next morning he resolved to leave 
 the moor. He was very hungry, and when 
 he came to a little cottage with the door a 
 little open he went in. An old woman and 
 a cat and a hen lived in the cottage. The 
 old woman seemed glad to see him, and 
 gave him some food directly, and he sat 
 down in the corner quite contented. In a 
 few days he felt a longing for a swim in the 
 cool water. He mentioned it to the cat and 
 the hen, and they laughed at him. " Did 
 you ever hear of such a thing ? " said they ; 
 " he must be crazy." 
 
 But one morning, when nobody was look- 
 ing, the duckling crept slyly out of the 
 door and started to look for a pond or a 
 river. As he flapped his wings he was sur- 
 prised to feel how strong they were. Some 
 beautiful birds flew over his head, and he 
 longed to go with them. They were swans, 
 but he did not know that, but he had never 
 felt so strange a liking for any other birds. 
 He flapped his wings again, and almost be- 
 fore he knew it he was sailing through the 
 air. He flew till he came to a large pond 
 in the garden, where he saw some of the 
 beautiful birds with the long necks swim- 
 ming. He lit on the water right among 
 them. He thought they would surely fight 
 him like the ducks, but they didn't; they 
 came around him with every manifestation 
 of joy. Some little children clapped their 
 hands and cried : " Oh, here is a new swan." 
 
A CANDID CONFESSION. 
 
 253 
 
 A CANDID CONFESSION. 
 
 BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE. 
 
 THERE used to live down on Washing- 
 ton street a good man, who endeav- 
 ored to train up his children in the way they 
 should go, and as his flock was numerous 
 he had anything but an easy task in this 
 training business. 
 
 Only last summer the elder of these male 
 olive branches, who had lived about fourteen 
 wicked years, enticed his younger brother, 
 who had only had ten years experience in 
 boyish wickedness, to go out on the river 
 in a boat, a species of pastime which their 
 father had many a time forbidden, and had 
 even gone so far as to enforce his veto with 
 a skate strap. But the boys went this time,, 
 trusting to luck to conceal their depravity 
 from the knowledge of their pa, and in due 
 time they returned, and walked around the 
 house, the two most innocent-looking boys 
 in Burlington. 
 
 They separated for a few moments, and 
 at the expiration of that time the elder was 
 suddenly confronted by his father, who re- 
 quested a private interview in the usual 
 place, and the pair adjourned to the wood- 
 shed, where, after a brief but highly spirited 
 performance, in which the boy appeared 
 most successfully as " heavy villain," and 
 his father took his favorite role of " first old 
 man," the curtain went down, and the boy, 
 considerably mystified, sought his younger 
 brother. 
 
 "John," he said, "who do you suppose 
 told dad ? Have you been licked ? " 
 
 John's face will not look more peaceful 
 and resigned when it is in his coffin than it 
 did as he replied : 
 
 " No ; have you ? " 
 
 " Have I ? Come down to the cow-yard 
 with me, and look at my back," replied the 
 boy. 
 
 John declined, but said: 
 
 "Well, Bill, I'll tell you how father found 
 us out. I am tired of acting this way, and 
 I ain't going to run away and come back 
 home and lie about it any more. I'm going 
 to do better than this, and so when I saw 
 father I couldn't help it, and went right to 
 him and confessed." 
 
 Bill was touched at this manly action on 
 the part of his younger brother. It found 
 a tender place in the bad boy's heart, and 
 he was visibly affected by it. But he 
 asked: 
 
 " How did it happen that the old man 
 didn't lick you ? " 
 
 "Well," said the penitent young reformer, 
 "you see I didn't confess on myself, I only 
 confessed on you ; that was the way it hap- 
 pened." 
 
 A strange, cold light glitterexl in Bill's 
 eye. 
 
 "Only confessed on me," he said. "Well, 
 that's all right, but come down behind the 
 cow-shed with me, and just take a look at 
 my back." 
 
 And when they got there do you suppose 
 Bill saw the first mite of Bill's back ? Ah, 
 no, dear children, he saw nothing bigger 
 than Bill's fists, and before he got out of 
 that locality he was the worst pounded John 
 that ever confessed to anybody. Thus it is 
 that our coming reformers are made and 
 trained. 
 
254 
 
 SHARKS. 
 
 SHARKS. 
 
 Sharks follow after 
 ships, that they may pick 
 up scraps or whatever 
 else may fall overboard. 
 Woe to the man who falls 
 into the sea when sharks 
 are about. They turn on 
 their backs and seize him 
 with their terrible teeth, 
 and even a man's body 
 has been swallowed entire 
 by large sharks. If sev- 
 eral sharks are following 
 they battle fiercely for their 
 prey, and will tear a man 
 to fragments in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Sailors delight in cap- 
 turing a shark. They en- 
 joy abusing him, for he is 
 so merciless with any prey 
 he seizes. A captured 
 shark is always hauled 
 on deck and cut open, and 
 the contents of his stom- 
 ach is often quite a show. 
 In one was a lady's work- 
 basket, scissors and all, 
 which had dropped over- 
 board from some passing 
 ship. In another was the 
 body of a child which had 
 died on shipboard, and, 
 having been tied up in 
 canvas with a ten-pound 
 ^HERE is no fish that swims in the cannon-ball to sink it, had been dropped 
 sea which sailors hate as they do overboard. The shark had swallowed the 
 the shark. He is often so big, and al- bundle whole, but was harpooned almost 
 ways so blood-thirsty, that he may well be immediately, and hauled on board of the 
 hated. ship. 
 
OFF TO THE BRIDAL. 
 
 255 
 
 OFF TO THE BRIDAL. 
 
 I 
 
 T was a rainy day, and the children had 
 
 On their chair wreaths were hung 
 
 to stay indoors. They were all the in honor of the occasion, and Dick, the big 
 more sorry, because their little cousin May brother of the party, held an umbrella over 
 was visiting with them, and Bob, her elder the happy couple, by way of a carriage top, 
 
 brother. They played good-naturedly to- 
 gether, and invented all sorts of fun-making 
 
 a table cover being thrown over it, as a 
 decoration. 
 
 amusements, but the crowning glory of their 
 merry day was their trip to the bridal. 
 
 Little Ned .mounted his hobby-horse as 
 the driver. Then came the bridal party, 
 May, as the guest whom they sought to 
 honor, being dressed as the bride, while be- 
 side her sat her cousin Harry, dressed more 
 as a sedate old man than as a happy bride- 
 
 Along the side, peeping over a prostrate 
 chair, were the other children, with their don 
 and their dolly, and as Ned lashed and 
 rocked his hobby-horse they imagined them- 
 selves to be neighbors looking out of their 
 windows as the bridal procession went by. 
 
 May's brother, Bob, dressed up as the 
 minister, and while the party was supposed 
 
256 
 
 OFF TO THE BRIDAL. A WONDERFUL IMAGE. 
 
 to be coming to his house, he hid himself 
 behind the curtains, just peeping out enough 
 to enjoy the fun. 
 
 When Ned had lashed and worked the 
 horse till he was tired, he announced the 
 parsonage as reached, and leaping from his 
 horse he assisted the bridal party to alight, 
 and the other children gathered around to 
 
 see the wedding. Bob thencame out, sol- 
 emn as an old man, and the whole party stood, 
 as if to see the ceremony begin. But Bob 
 could think of nothing to say. He stood 
 for another minute, and then began to 
 laugh. His laugh was "catching," and the 
 whole crowd broke into a merry roar, and 
 turned into a genuine romp. 
 
 A TRUE LITTLE STORY. 
 
 BY W. F. SHEKXVIX. 
 
 A 
 
 REVEREND doctor's wife I know, 
 
 Whose bright-eyed darling, " Little Flo," 
 Will daily study mischief so 
 
 Tis sometimes almost vexing 
 Is often puzzled sore indeed 
 To know just how she can proceed, 
 To discipline in time of need ; 
 
 Flo's ways are so perplexing. 
 
 For instance : just the other day, 
 When Flo had dared to disobey, 
 And then confessed in her queer way 
 
 (Her manner would amuse you); 
 The mother gravely shook her head : 
 " My heart is sad ! You know I dread 
 To punish, pet ; " the elfin said, 
 
 " Well, mamma, I'll excuse you." 
 
 A WONDERFUL IMAGE. 
 
 BOYS and girls in our days are accus- 
 tomed to see statues of great men 
 and women. Those who live in New York, 
 or have occasion to sail on New York Bay, 
 see there the great statue of Liberty En- 
 lightening the World, which is the largest 
 statue of the world, looming up from a 
 great granite base, and illuminated as a 
 light-house at night. 
 
 Some of the children who lived two 
 thousand years ago used to look on a very 
 beautiful statue, a picture of which is given 
 opposite. A great sculptor, named Phidias, 
 made it, of ivory and gold, and it was placed 
 in the temple of Olympia, at Elis. It rep- 
 resents, in gigantic size, the chief god of 
 the ancient Greeks and Romans. He was 
 known as Jupiter. 
 
 The figure of Jupiter, as moulded by 
 Phidias, was regarded as giving the most per- 
 fect idea of divine beauty and power. The 
 statue was preserved for nearly a thousand 
 years, and was then destroyed by fire at the 
 city of Constantinople. 
 
 All the parts of this statue which repre- 
 sent flesh were made of ivory. Those rep- 
 resenting the drapery were of gold. In 
 the right hand of Jupiter a statue of Victory 
 was held, expressing the idea that he is 
 supreme, being able to grasp victory when- 
 ever and wherever he might please. In his 
 left hand he held his sceptre, or emblem of 
 power. 
 
 How far Jupiter was really worshipped 
 is hard to tell, but he was highly honored, 
 and greatly feared. 
 
THE WONDERFUL IMAGE OF JUPITER. 
 
 257 
 
258 
 
 GATHERING NUTS. 
 
 GATHERING NUTS. 
 
 BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. 
 
 ONE of the best things in farming is 
 gathering the chestnuts, hickory-nuts, 
 butternuts, and even bush-nuts, in the late 
 fall, after the frosts have cracked the husks, 
 and the high winds have shaken them, and 
 the colored leaves have strewn the ground. 
 On a bright October day, when the air is 
 full of golden sunshine, there is nothing 
 
 quite so exhilarating as nutting. Nor is the 
 pleasure of it altogether destroyed for the 
 boy by the consideration that he is making 
 himself useful in obtaining supplies for the 
 winter household. The getting-in of pota- 
 toes and corn is a different tiling ; that is the 
 
 o 
 
 prose, but nutting is the poetry of farm life. 
 I am not sure but the boy would find it very 
 irksome, though, if he were obliged to work 
 at nut-gathermg in order to procure food for 
 the family. 
 
 The Italian boy, who works day after day 
 at a huge pile of pine-cones, pounding and 
 cracking them, and taking out the long seeds, 
 which are sold and eaten as we eat nuts 
 (and which are almost as good as pumpkin- 
 seeds, another favorite with Italians), prob- 
 ably does not see the fun of nutting. Indeed, 
 if the farmer-boy here were set at pounding 
 off the walnut-shucks and open- 
 ing the prickly chestnut-burs, 
 as a task, he would think him- 
 self an ill-used boy. What a 
 hardship the prickles in his 
 fingers would be! But now 
 he digs them out with his jack- 
 knife, and on the whole en- 
 joys the process. The boy is 
 willing to do any amount of 
 work if it is called play. 
 
 In nutting, the squirrel is 
 not more nimble and industri- 
 ous than the boy. I like to 
 see a crowd of boys swarm 
 over a chestnut grove ; they 
 leave a desert behind them like 
 the seventeen years locusts. 
 To climb a tree and shake it, 
 to club it, to strip it of its fruit 
 and pass to the next, is the sport of a brief 
 time. I have seen a legion of boys scamper 
 over our grass-plot under the chestnut-trees, 
 each one as active as if he were a new patent 
 picking-machine, sweeping the ground clean 
 of nuts, and disappear over the hill before 
 I could go to the door and speak to them. 
 Indeed boys don't care much for conversa- 
 tion with the owners of fruit trees. They 
 would speedily make their fortunes if they 
 would work as rapidly in cotton-fields. 
 
I 
 
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