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^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 +~s r^ i