"Milly," said little Kate, greeting her elder sister one evening about a
week after Miss Jenner's party, "there's a woman waiting to see you in
the parlor."
Mildred instinctively kept the child back as she made her way into the
room, shutting the door after her with a firm hand. There sat the
peddler, or "Widow Robbins," as she called herself; and, oh! how she
seemed to Milly to take the warmth and life out of the pretty little
room with her air of vulgar obtrusiveness! Milly stood still in the
middle of the room a moment, while Mrs. Robbins spoke. "Called for the
first payment, my dear," she said, jocularly.
"Certainly," answered Milly, drawing her purse from her pocket; "and,"
she continued, "I thought I might as well pay you four weeks in advance.
I have that much to spare."
She came forward, holding out two crisp bills; but, to her surprise,
"Widow Robbins" motioned her back. "Ah, no, my dear," she said, gravely;
"that wasn't in our agreement. I can't take more'n the fifty cents. Now
give me just that, and I'll sign my name to your paper."
Milly remonstrated, all in vain, and then, completely disgusted by the
coarse vulgarity of the woman, her loud tone and half-sarcastic laugh,
she produced her "agreement," allowing Mrs. Robbins to sign a receipt
for fifty cents, and take her leave. Poor Milly, though vexed and
puzzled, did not see into the deeper motive of the peddler in this
transaction. By only receiving the half-dollar weekly, Mrs. Robbins
prolonged her power over Milly, well knowing a day _might_ come when
even that sum would not be in Milly's possession to give her. If such a
remote chance ever occurred to Mildred, she dismissed it as too absurd
to contemplate for an instant. The next week passed by quickly enough,
for in her mother's absence Mildred had many home cares added to her
usual ones and the work at the store. One fact relieved her greatly.
"Mr. Tom's" attentions had nearly ceased, and she was allowed to come
and go to her daily work without subjecting herself to any special
insolence from him. Widow Robbins appeared again on the following
Monday, and was promptly paid and dismissed. The same evening Mrs. Lee
returned from her visit, full of exhilaration from the change, and ready
to hear Milly's account of Miss Jenner's party. It cost the girl an
effort not to tell of her new dress; but Mrs. Lee did not observe the
slight confusion in her daughter's manner, being fully entertained by
hearing an account of the fine house.
Early the next evening Mildred paid a call at the brick house, and
renewed her sociable intercourse with Alice and Roger, who welcomed her
so cordially that Miss Jenner, though in a rather stiff way, asked
Mildred to spend an evening with them once a week. It was a new era in
Milly's life. How she looked forward to those Wednesday evenings, when,
leaving the store at the earliest moment possible, she would hasten
home, make a quick toilette, chatting with her mother the while, and
then go out into the dusky streets, threading her way eagerly to Lane
Street, where lights twinkled in the old-fashioned windows of Miss
Jenner's house, and where she was sure to find a kindly welcome!
Sometimes the three young people sat in Alice's pretty sitting-room up
stairs, which to Milly's eyes was like an enchanted palace. Although
blind, Alice delighted in feeling soft hangings, luxurious coverings to
her chairs and sofas, and the consciousness that her walls were hung
with pretty pictures. Mildred had inherited from her father an
exquisitely fine taste, and Alice Jenner's surroundings seemed to fill
her with a sense of refinement which made her own dull life easier to
bear when she went away. Gradually Miss Jenner's manner thawed to
Mildred, and before Christmas came around, the young girl had been half
a dozen times invited to the cozy supper table of the good lady, who on
these occasions strove to make Milly feel perfectly at home, while she
contrived to learn all the story of her life from the young girl's lips.
Milly's one penance was Mrs. Robbins's weekly visit, and the
consciousness that up in her bureau drawer, carefully locked and
guarded, was the gray silk dress. By Christmas-time only six dollars had
been paid on it, yet a certain security of the future made Milly feel
sure no disaster could occur. Mrs. Robbins's calls were now all made at
the store, and about the Christmas season "Mr. Tom" inquired, rather
sneeringly, whether "Miss Lee's great-aunt" meant to give them her
custom. Milly answered nothing, yet it aroused her fears, and on one
Tuesday, after the peddler's customary call, she left the store
determined to appoint some different place of meeting. There was
something unusual, Milly thought, about the look of the cottage as she
entered; first a rush, then a confusion of smothered voices. Mildred ran
into the parlor, thence to the kitchen, where she found the children
gathered mysteriously together.
"Willy's got the bronchitis," exclaimed Kate. "He must have caught it
down at the marshes."
Mildred asked no further questions, but ran up stairs, tossing aside her
hat, and going cautiously into her mother's room, where Willy lay
suffering intensely. Mrs. Lee was glad to put all the responsible care
into Mildred's hands, and so she devoted nearly all the night to the
care of her little brother, appearing the next day haggard and
heavy-eyed at Mr. Hardman's store. Days passed in hard work at the
store, and nights of broken rest; and then came an evening when, on
Mildred's return home, she was met with the news of her mother's
illness. Poor Mrs. Lee, at no time strong, had succumbed to her anxiety
and hard work, and Milly found her utterly prostrated, the doctor
standing beside her, not able to pronounce on her disease, but looking
so anxious that Milly had difficulty in hiding her tears. Willy was
better, but the new trouble was terrible to contemplate. That night she
wrote hurriedly to her mother's pupils, and the next morning she arose
after a wakeful night with the consciousness that she had six people to
support on five dollars a week.
Mildred felt too proud to tell Miss Jenner of her troubles. She dreaded
a rebuff besides. Roger was not well, and she knew the brick house was
in some confusion over his illness. It had been a trying season at
Milltown, and few families had escaped; but Mildred thought her
visitation hardest to bear.
The second day of her mother's illness Mildred came home very early, and
after getting the children to bed, counted over her slender store of
money while she sat in her mother's room, letting faithful Deborah have
a rest. Just three dollars remained of her weekly earnings, and of this
sum fifty cents must be saved for the terrible Widow Robbins. "I know
what I'll do," thought Milly, almost aloud; "I'll see if she won't take
her silk back. I _can't_ spare a penny of my salary." This hope kept
poor Mildred up until the peddler's next visit. It was in the little
cottage parlor, and Mildred falteringly told her of her mother's
illness, and their great need of money.
"That's neither here nor there," said the woman, shortly. "I can't lose
_my_ bread and butter. You say your dress is stained; that ends my
taking it back; so any week--" The peddler stopped short rather
ominously and glanced around the cottage parlor. It was a very pretty
room. From the wreck of their fortunes Mrs. Lee and Milly had saved
several--to them--priceless household treasures. On the mantel were the
heavy old-fashioned silver candlesticks which Milly remembered all her
life; some fine china was in the cabinet between the windows; the modest
book-shelves were full of valuable volumes; one or two exquisite
engravings hung upon the walls; here and there were a few excellent
pieces of old family furniture. Altogether it was a room which not only
charmed the eye, but showed such signs of "better days" that the few
neighbors who had called upon the Lees held them in high esteem. Mrs.
Robbins's glance was evidently highly satisfactory to herself.
"Well," she said, pocketing her fifty cents with an air of great
condescension, "I will just wait a bit and see."
It was after six o'clock, and Milly felt worried and perplexed as she
sat with the children over their simple tea, and then went up to her
mother's sick-room, in which she passed nearly all the night. Deborah
followed her, and beckoning her to the window, said, in a grave whisper,
"Mildred, my child, who's that queer woman keeps coming here?"
Milly felt inclined to cry.
"Oh, Debby," she said, piteously, "don't bother me; it's just a woman
who--has business with me."
Debby was silenced, but by no means satisfied. She determined to settle
the question for herself.
Before the next week came around, every penny of Milly's money was
spent, and, more than that, they were heavily in debt to the butcher and
the grocer and the chemist. The best of port-wine was ordered for Mrs.
Lee; the strongest beef tea; the most nourishing jellies; iron and
quinine regularly. Poor Milly used to feel as if she was walking over
fire on her way to and from the store, so harassed had she become, and
she and Deborah bemoaned the state of affairs whenever they were alone.
"Something _must_ be done, honey!" Deborah said, one wet Tuesday
evening, when Milly stopped in the kitchen to dry her clothes and warm
her feet before going up stairs. "I've next to nothing in the house, and
your mother _must_ have some more port."
Milly was disconsolately thinking the question over, when she was roused
by Mrs. Robbins's well-known "rat-tat-tat" on the front door. She ran
out, hastily admitting the peddler, who soon perceived the state of
affairs by Milly's expression. The young girl tried to say, calmly, that
she had not the money.
"Well," said Mrs. Robbins, "I'll hold off a day or two; but just you
read the paper you signed, and you'll see you agree to pay the full
amount if you miss a week--if the dress isn't fit to be took back."
Mildred read the paper over and again when the woman was gone, and found
herself indeed bound to a very Shylock. "That dress is just like the
pound of flesh," she thought, as she sat in the dim light by her mother.
"Oh, why did I ever buy it; and who cared at Miss Jenner's what I wore!"
The next week Mrs. Robbins made her appearance at the store on a day
when Mildred's peace of mind was so exhausted by home cares it was all
she could do to serve the most civil of customers. Milly contrived to
see her in the cloak-room, but the peddler refused to subdue her voice.
"I can have fifty cents stopped out of your pay, and I _will_," she
said, resolutely. "I don't want anything but my rights."
Mildred had not five cents to offer her. All her most earnest pleading
only induced Mrs. Robbins to defer what she called "proceedings" for
three days. In the mean time she resolved to call upon Miss Jenner. It
was late on the Friday evening before she got a chance to go to the
Brick House, and there the unwelcome news greeted her that Miss Jenner
had fallen a victim to the lung disease prevalent in Milltown. She was
leaving the house full of dejection, when to her horror she beheld the
tall, gaunt figure of Mrs. Robbins striding up the box-path from the
gate. Milly asked her to walk on with her.
[Illustration: MILDRED AND THE WIDOW ROBBINS.]
"No," said the woman, "here I am. I've followed you here, and here I
mean to have my say. Before next Tuesday I demand my money--twenty-two
dollars--or you shall hear from me in a way you least expect."
It was nearly dark, but Milly could see the wicked expression on the
woman's face. She was faint and tired, and bitterly disappointed at not
seeing Miss Jenner, but she could not let the peddler see what she felt.
"Very well," she answered, in a constrained voice, "I can try; but how I
am going to get twenty-two dollars is more than I can imagine. Oh, that
wretched gray silk dress!" she added. "If only it had not been spoiled
that first evening!"
Mrs. Robbins walked out of the gate by her side, and down the road some
little distance, threatening Milly all the time as to what she _could_
do, and what she _would_ do. Left alone, Milly hurried home, knowing
that she must before morning devise some means of raising the money.
Mrs. Robbins had said she would "look in" during the morning at the
store, and already Milly felt sure she had betrayed her secret to "Mr.
Tom."
"Milly," Debby said, in a mournful tone, "I've been thinking we _must_
part with something. Your mother's sinking for what we've no money to
pay for. I've seen you all in better days, lovey, and I'm as fond of
everything in the house as you are, but I see no way out of it. In fact,
I saw a man to-day--he's only waiting for your word--and he'll look over
the things in the parlor to-morrow."
A lump rose and filled Milly's throat. Oh, if she were not burdened with
this miserable private debt, how easy it would seem even to ask a loan
from old Mr. Hardman! But no, the home necessities were by no means all.
"Yes, yes, Debby," exclaimed Mildred, with a sudden rush of tears; "it
must be done--it must be done."
When Milly returned the next evening from the store, the once cozy
parlor looked desolate enough. The heavy furniture was nearly all gone,
and the children clustered about her with an eager account of the man
who had carried the sofa and chairs and best table away in his cart.
"Never mind," said Mildred, trying to be cheerful. "We must sit in the
dining-room. Besides, dears, think how ill mamma is."
"Only forty dollars," whispered Deborah, "and I've paid out thirty of
it."
So she could not even borrow part of that sum for her debt. Milly turned
away, and went into her mother's room, feeling faint, heart and body,
and there tried to find some consolation in reading aloud their usual
evening chapter; but all the time a sense of her own folly oppressed
her. Suffering from necessity she could have borne, but not that which
her own sin had brought upon her.
Poor Mildred! she knelt at her mother's side, humbly praying, almost
aloud. On the next day she knew she must "settle" with the dreaded Widow
Robbins.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
THE TWO BEARS.
BY FRANK BELLEW.
The snow was on the ground--the lovely white snow, the peaceful snow,
which covered the country landscape with billows of alabaster. In the
distance the feathery woods made a purple fringe between the earth and
sky, while in the foreground a crinkled rail fence ran irregularly along
the side of the country road, and near it stood a splotch of red and
black, the only marked color in the whole landscape. The red and black
was crying bitterly, for the red and black represented a little girl
with a scarlet hood, and crimson stockings, and a bundle of books. She
was on her way to school, and in great grief.
While she still stood by the fence, sobbing, a black object appeared
over the brow of the hill, and slowly moved toward the foreground,
until, pausing in front of the weeping child, it stood, as jolly, as
genial, as comfortable an old gentleman as ever wore broadcloth.
"Why, what is the matter, little one?" he asked, in a kindly voice.
The child looked up into the pleasant face and answered:
"They are always worrying me at home; they are always taking my things,
and when I ask for them they get mad, and if I take any of their things,
they come and take them away, and then if I don't like it, they tell
mother; and oh! I declare it's too mean for anything. It wasn't her
doll, anyway, for Cousin May left it behind, and she didn't give it to
anybody, and she'd had it all day; and then she took my sun-shade, and
broke the hook off, and because I asked her for it she got mad and
wanted the doll, and it wasn't her doll, and then mother made me give it
up, and I think it's real mean--that's just what I think it is."
"Well, well, well, that was too bad. I think it _was_ real mean myself,"
said the old gentleman. "But I tell you what you should do--you should
keep two bears, as I do, and then you would be happy all the time."
"Two bears?" ejaculated the little girl, opening her large round blue
eyes.
"Yes, two bears. We have two bears up at my house, and they make us so
happy!"
"Don't they bite?"
"Oh no, they don't bite a mite."
"But they growl, don't they?"
"Oh, no, no; they don't growl either. But if you like to come home with
me, I will show them to you."
In an instant the little girl's hand was in that of the old gentleman,
and they were trotting along the road side by side. There was something
so kind and gentle and yet so jovial in his manner that it never entered
her head to be afraid of him. After turning down one road and up
another, and walking about a mile altogether, they at last came to a
long low house, with large windows, which were filled with bright
flowers, and draped with red curtains, and in every window hung a
bird-cage with some strange or beautiful bird.
A number of children came running out of the house, crying, "Oh, papa!
papa! here's papa!" as they gathered round him, clinging to his arms.
"Children," he said, "I have brought a little stranger to visit you. I
do not know her name, but I am sure you will be kind to her, and show
her the two bears, which I have promised she should see."
They entered a large, comfortable sitting-room, hung round with pictures
and bird-cages; in the centre was a long table covered with books, and
on each side of the fire-place, in a big easy-chair, sat a great rough
bear; one was brown, and the other was black.
The old gentleman led the little girl up to the brown bear, and said,
"Brown Bear, here is a little girl who is very miserable. I have told
her that you and Black Bear have made us all so happy, and that perhaps
you can help her to be happy too."
Brown Bear gave a good-humored sort of sniff, and put his big paw gently
on the head of the little stranger.
"What is your name, child?" asked the gentleman: "you have not told me
that yet."
"Frances Louisa Caroline Bounce, but they call me Fanny. What a nice
bear! Will he be angry if I feel his fur?"
"No, indeed, not even though you rub it the wrong way."
After she was introduced to both bears, she played with the children,
Carry and Sarah, George and Philip, and then they all went into another
room to dinner. On their way, however, Philip, who had a long switch,
with which he had been amusing himself, persisted in tickling the back
of his sister Sarah's ear with it, until she grew out of patience, and,
turning round, told him, rather sharply, to stop; but Philip, who was
only in fun, seemed somewhat nettled at being scolded, and was just on
the point of repeating the offense, when Black Bear, who was walking
behind, put his paw gently on his shoulder, while at the same moment
Brown Bear took Sarah by the arm and led her into the dining-room.
Philip threw away his switch, both burst into a merry laugh, and sat
down to the table with smiling faces. During the dinner both bears kept
walking round the table, looking so kind and gentle that they seemed to
put every one in good-humor. When Carry upset a tumbler of water over
Sarah's frock, Brown Bear immediately picked it up, while Carry begged
pardon, and Sarah laughed. When George was going to tell some little
tale _out of school_ about Philip, Black Bear put his big paw in front
of his mouth, and George stopped at once.
[Illustration: THE CHILDREN AND THEIR BEARS.]
After dinner they all went out into the snow to have some coasting down
a hill close to the house. Both the boys had sleds, but Philip's was a
bright new one, while George's was old and rather clumsy. Philip had
been saving up his money for some time to buy this treasure, and was
very proud of it; therefore when George seized his new sled and ran off
with it, he called after him with some anger to bring it back, and not
to use it; but George had reached the top of the hill, and had just
planted the sled, ready to start down hill, when Brown Bear came to the
side of the angry Philip, and touched him with his paw. Phil's manner
and voice changed at once, as he called out, "Well, brother George, you
can use my sled, and I'll use yours." But Black Bear had reached the top
of the hill nearly as soon as George, and with his great big paw patted
him on the back, and grunted something in his ear. George took up the
sled very quietly, and carried it back to his brother, saying, "I am
sorry, Phil; here is your sled."
After that all was fun, tumbles, and laughter, the two bears joining in
it as actively and enjoying it just as much as the children. In fact,
the bears seemed to make the whole party happy. At last it became time
for Frances Louisa Caroline Bounce to go home. She felt sad at the
thought of leaving the bears, and of going to her own home, where there
were no bears at all.
"Well," said the old gentleman, "how do you like our bears, Fanny?"
"Oh, I think they are just too splendid for anything. I wish we had a
bear, even if it was only a little one."
"Well, you can easily have bears. All children can have them if they
like. Perhaps you would be obliged to begin with young ones; but then
they would be sure to grow up if you only took care of them."
"Oh, dear, dear! is that really so?" cried Fanny, in an ecstasy.
"Yes, my child, it is really so; every one can have two bears in his or
her house, like mine. But do you know what we call those bears which
make us all so happy? BEAR and FORBEAR."
"BEAR and FORBEAR!" echoed Fanny. "Oh, I will try to get two of those
bears in our house, and if they are ever so weak and sickly, I will feed
them and nurse them till they grow big and strong like yours."
Fanny trotted home with the old gentleman, and told her brothers and
sisters everything about the two good-natured bears; and they all agreed
that they would try to raise a pair like them.
I am happy to add that Fanny and her family have a pair of very
promising young bears, which already afford them a great deal of
happiness, and bid fair in the future to be fine healthy animals.
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX]
NEW YORK CITY.
I am making a steam-engine according to the directions given in
YOUNG PEOPLE No. 49. I have just soldered on the lid, and have made
the hole for the water to be let into the engine. I hope to finish
it soon. I am eight years old. I go to school, and I like YOUNG
PEOPLE very much. I like to read the letters from the children, so
I thought I would send one, and thank the "Professor" for writing
about the steam-engine.
JOHN A. J.
* * * * *
CRESCO, IOWA.
I have just commenced taking YOUNG PEOPLE, and we all like it very
much. The story of "Paul Grayson" was splendid, but I think "Toby
Tyler" is the best of all. My brother Charlie and I each have an
Indian pony. Charlie's pony has been trained by the Indians to
stand wherever you leave her, without being tied. And if any one is
riding her and falls off, no matter how fast she is going, she will
stop, and not move one step farther until her rider mounts again.
My pony throws me over her head sometimes, but she will not stop
until she gets to the barn.
ALLIE C.
* * * * *
NACOOCHEE, GEORGIA.
I send an experiment for the chemistry club. To make cyanogen gas
the apparatus necessary is this: one test-tube, a cork, six inches
of glass tube one-quarter of an inch in diameter, an alcohol lamp,
and a round file. Now hold the glass tube over the flame of the
lamp until the glass is soft, when by pulling it apart you will
have two tubes, with one end of each drawn to a fine point. Break
off the point of one, and you will have a tiny jet. Make a hole in
the cork just large enough for the large end of the tube to go
into. Put into the test-tube as much cyanide of mercury as will lie
on the point of a penknife. Fit the cork tightly in the test-tube.
Wave the test-tube over the flame of the lamp for five or ten
minutes, and then apply a lighted match to the jet, when the gas
will burn with a bluish flame. Pour some melted tallow or bees-wax
over the cork to keep the gas from escaping before reaching the
jet.
JOHN R. G.
* * * * *
NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE.
I read the letters in the Post-office Box with so much pleasure! I
have every number of YOUNG PEOPLE. All my young friends that read
it like it very much. We have formed a juvenile club, and I am
president. Reading YOUNG PEOPLE is a part of our programme.
RANDOLPH H.
* * * * *
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA.
I thought I would write and tell you about our club. It is called
the "Silver Crescent Dramatic Club." We were going to call it
"Golden Crescent," but when the club gets a little richer it is
going to buy some medals for each member to wear; they will be the
shape of a crescent, and if they had to be of gold, they would cost
more than silver ones. We meet once every week, and make by-laws
and suggestions, and vote on them, and we rehearse. We also have a
monthly paper; it is called "The Monthly Crescent." Of course it is
not printed, and we have only one copy. Each member edits it in
turn, and the others send in contributions. Everything has to be
original. The paper is read at every fourth meeting.
We charge five cents to join the club, and every two months each
member has to pay five cents dues. New members are voted for, and
the majority rules. We have five officers--a president,
vice-president, treasurer, secretary, and stage-manager. I am the
secretary.
We prepared a grand entertainment for the Christmas holidays. It
was a tragedy in three acts. I arranged it. In the first part of
_Little Women_, by Miss Alcott, they had a play called the
"Witch's Curse." Only the plot was given. I took it and made up
the dialogue, added some more characters, and changed it to make
it turn out differently. It makes a very nice little play.
IDA B. D.
* * * * *
ARGENTA, ILLINOIS.
I am a little girl ten years old. I think YOUNG PEOPLE is a very
nice paper. My sister and I go to school. We have a very nice
teacher. I like to go very much. We study pieces from YOUNG PEOPLE
to speak in school. My teacher says all little boys and girls ought
to take it.
MINNIE S.
* * * * *
DOWNIEVILLE, CALIFORNIA.
I thought I would try to describe a trip I took with auntie to a
little town called Eureka. After a short ride we came to the main
trail leading from Downieville to the northern part of Sierra
County. The trail winds in and out, following every curve and bend
of the mountain. In some places it is quite steep, and in others
almost level. How tired I was when we got to Eureka, having been
two hours in the saddle! When we reached the ridge, we heard some
one playing on some instrument, and it sounded so sweet that we
stopped a few minutes to listen to it.
Uncle tells me that Eureka used to be quite a large place, with
hotels, stores, private houses, a school-house, and a Masonic
Hall; but now it consists of only half a dozen dwellings and the
school-house.
A little girl has written to YOUNG PEOPLE that she found two peach
blossoms in September, and she wants to know if any other little
girl has found any so late. Now I want to know if any little girl
or boy has ever picked ripe peaches near the 13th of November, as
I have.
MARY A. R.
* * * * *
VICKSBURG, MISSISSIPPI.
I have only been taking HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE a short time, but I
think it is a very nice little paper. I saw that one of the little
girls said that she had seen a peach blossom in September. Here we
often have figs in December.
LILY V. F.
* * * * *
BROOKLYN, LONG ISLAND.
I am eleven years old; but my eyes are not strong, and mamma has
not thought it best to send me to school till this fall, so that I
can not write very well. I would like to tell Reba H. that there
were apple blossoms on our tree in Oil City, Pennsylvania, in
September, 1879.
WINIFRED C.
* * * * *
BATH, NEW HAMPSHIRE.
I have just finished the embroidery of Fig. 12 in YOUNG PEOPLE No.
59. I received the paper Tuesday night, and if I had had all the
crewels, I could have finished it on Thursday. But I had to send to
Boston for some of them, and wait nearly four days before they
came.
The day I began the embroidery mamma went up garret, and found an
old quilt of my grandmother's, all embroidered with the same
stitch. I have done a table-cover in the South Kensington stitch,
but I think the New England stitch is prettier, easier, and takes
less time.
I did pattern No. 12 on a bureau-cover of Russian crash. I am very
glad you print the articles on embroidery. They are a great help.
I enjoy fancy-work very much, and do a great deal of it. I was
fourteen last July.
HELEN C.
This is the first report on embroidery, and, according to promise, the
old embroidery pattern has been sent to the writer.
* * * * *
SULLIVAN, INDIANA.
I am almost eight years old. I do not go to school. I have two
little sisters. My papa prints a newspaper. I take YOUNG PEOPLE,
and I think it is the best paper in the world, except papa's. I get
papa to read it to me, and then I send it to a little boy who has
no money to buy it.
HARALD C. H.
* * * * *
EAST CANAAN, NEW HAMPSHIRE.
I am only six years old, but I can read all the stories in YOUNG
PEOPLE alone. I have some very playful kittens, and one night they
tipped over the big rocking-chair. I had six white geese, but one
died.
LESTER O. B.
* * * * *
PASSAIC, NEW JERSEY.
I am ten years old. I have two pretty kittens, exactly alike. They
are yellow and white. The other day I got a pretty dove from the
dove-house, and kept him in a large cage; but I felt sorry for him,
and one day opened the window and let him out. He flew to the top
of the carriage-house, and all of the doves came to meet him and
kept flying around him. I like HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE so much that I
can not wait patiently until it comes.
WILLIE G.
* * * * *
FOSTER BROOK, PENNSYLVANIA.
I am spending the winter very pleasantly out among the Red Rock
Mountains. Our cottage is in a valley, surrounded by high hills,
which are covered with wintergreen berries from one year's end to
another. During the winter months the berries swell very large, and
they are delicious fruit in the spring. There is a great deal of
iron ore here, and also a great deal of snow. We live in a very
small house, with only four rooms; but, for all that, it is very
cozy. I look forward with much pleasure every week for the coming
of YOUNG PEOPLE.
M. ADA T.
* * * * *
CLANTON, ALABAMA.
My brother and I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and like it very much. We had a
pet 'coon, which got very thirsty one day, and crawled into our big
glass water-pitcher head first. After helping himself to water, he
turned round in the pitcher, and came out again. Afterward the cat
killed him.
ST. CLAIR T.
* * * * *
BROOKHAVEN, MISSISSIPPI.
My papa takes HARPER'S MAGAZINE, and I take YOUNG PEOPLE, which I
like very much, especially the letters written by the children. I
wish all the boys and girls in the South could get your paper.
I am eight years old, and go to school. There is a great deal of
cotton shipped from here to New Orleans, and a great deal of
lumber to St. Louis and Chicago. I have two little sisters younger
than I.
ARCHIE MCM.
* * * * *
WINDSOR HEIGHTS, MARYLAND.
I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE since the story called "Who was Paul
Grayson?" began. My brother and I have for pets a flock of pigeons,
which are quite tame, two pair of rabbits, and two dogs, named
"Duke" and "Terry." Duke will go into the corn-patch, select a soft
ear of corn, and husk and eat it. He sometimes goes to the
blackberry bushes, and holds down a branch with one paw while he
eats the berries. He is also very fond of persimmons.
JAMES S.
* * * * *
MOBERLY, MISSOURI.
I will send a nice recipe for ice-cream in the winter. Take a
glassful of snow, and put in just enough cream to make it thick,
with some sugar, and just a little extract of vanilla or lemon. My
brother and I have ice-cream all summer, and winter too. I am nine
years old.
MAGGIE B.
* * * * *
Pearl A. Hare, of Lynchburg, Harris County, Texas, accidentally omitted
the little word "for" in her letter published in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 56,
which made her appear to offer birds' eggs and postage stamps for
exchange, when she wished to obtain them in exchange for Texas snail
shells. Our readers will please note the correction.
* * * * *
I am a boy eleven years old. I was born in Cairo, Egypt, and came
to America in 1876. I am living on a farm now, and like it very
much.
I have some Egyptian stamps I would like to exchange for any other
foreign stamps.
AMBROSE STRANG, Lincoln, Tennessee.
* * * * *
The following exchanges are also offered by correspondents:
Postmarks.
M. P. RICH,
50 West Thirty-eighth Street, New York City.
* * * * *
German postage stamps for any other foreign stamps.
MAUDE BUCKNER,
1208 Russell Street, Covington, Ky.
* * * * *
Postage stamps and postmarks for foreign postage stamps and coin.
S. NEW,
127 East Sixty-ninth Street, New York City.
* * * * *
Postmarks for postage stamps.
THOMAS K. DURHAM,
P. O. Box 735, New York City.
* * * * *
Postmarks and War Department stamps for stamps and monograms.
CAMPBELL T. HAMILTON,
Fort Preble, Portland, Maine.
* * * * *
Shells for Indian relics, shells, ore, or petrified wood.
HENRY SCOTT,
20 Patchen Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y.
* * * * *
Postmarks for postmarks and stamps.
AL. E. BARKER,
P. O. Box 115, Judsonia, White County, Ark.
* * * * *
Foreign postage stamps for minerals, fossils, shells, sea-weed, or
birds' eggs.
LOUIS D. ORRISON,
Care of Abernathy, North, & Orrison,
Kansas City, Missouri.
* * * * *
Southern moss for a Chinese coin or any old relic.
DAISY ROLLINS,
P. O. Box 186, Columbus, Missouri.
* * * * *
Twenty-five postmarks for two rare stamps.
W. W. ELHOSE,
22 Brill Street, Newark, N. J.
* * * * *
Foreign postage stamps or postmarks for all kinds of United States
internal revenue stamps.
GEORGE WELLS,
P. O. Box 466, New York City.
* * * * *
Curiosities, postage stamps, or sea-shells for curiosities. Or
thirty postmarks for five birds' eggs. No duplicates.
HARRY MADISON,
206 Stockton Street, San Francisco, California.
* * * * *
One hundred postage stamps for ten coins, or for ten birds' eggs.
No duplicates.
FRANK KNOX,
2318 Third Avenue, New York City.
* * * * *
Minerals, fossils, rare stamps, or monograms for coats of arms,
crests, and monograms.
A READER OF "YOUNG PEOPLE,"
Lock Box 42,
Little Falls, Herkimer County, N. Y.
* * * * *
California curiosities, shells, or minerals for old or rare
American coins.
C. W., JUN.,
P. O. Box 2305, San Francisco, California.
* * * * *
Foreign stamps for postmarks and postal cards. Postmarks must be
cut square.
C. S. PETRASCH,
13 West Thirty-second Street, New York City.
* * * * *
Two fine specimens of Southern fern, or some evening-glory seeds,
for United States postage stamps.
EMMA BRUFF,
238 Felicity Street, New Orleans, La.
* * * * *
Postage stamps.
HAWLEY WEBSTER,
394 Clinton Avenue, Brooklyn, Long Island.
* * * * *
Postmarks.
LOUIS GIBBS,
Care of J. J. Carter, Titusville, Penn.
* * * * *
C. H. L.--The old scrip which you inclose is probably a genuine
five-franc _assignat_, as the paper money was called which was first
issued by the French government in 1790, and afterward by the
Revolutionary authorities. It was based on the security of the public
domain, consisting of the confiscated estates of the Church and wealthy
exiles. The value of these assignats, which were issued to the amount of
45,578,000,000 francs, declined rapidly after the reign of terror. In
the summer of 1793, one franc in silver was worth three francs in paper.
Three years later, one franc in gold was worth three hundred francs in
paper, although the government, in order to check this depreciation, had
passed a law to regulate the price of commodities.
The inscription on your assignat shows that it was issued in October or
November, 1793, the second year of the French Republic. The lettering in
the corners proclaims death to any one who should dare to counterfeit
the assignat. The _livre_, which name appears on the scrip, was a French
coin about the value of a franc, by which it was superseded in 1795.
Eighty francs were equal in value to eighty-one livres.
If you examine your assignat carefully you will see to the left the dim
and faded stamp of the figure of Liberty, and if you have a strong
magnifying-glass, you can amuse yourself by trying to make out the
lettering around it. This little scrap of coarse paper, not quite a
hundred years old, may incite you to read the story of the terrible time
of which it is a relic. If you are not old enough to enjoy Carlyle's
_History of the French Revolution_, you will find the scenes vividly
portrayed in Charles Dickens's _Tale of Two Cities_, and Victor Hugo's
novel entitled "'93."
* * * * *
HENRY H. T.--Your proposal to found a Natural History Society, composed
of contributors to HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, is hardly practical. The
exchange of specimens, etc., would be dilatory and difficult, as our
contributors are scattered over the whole continent. Local societies of
the kind you mean might be formed to advantage, and the officers of
different associations could correspond with each other, and exchange
views and information.
* * * * *
L. M. F. AND L. L. P.--Your plan for a reading and debating club is
excellent, and if well carried out must have good results. You will find
suggestions that may be useful in some remarks appended to a letter from
Violet S. in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 53, and also in a book called
_Stories of the Sea_, noticed in No. 61. We would advise you not to
waste your time over fourth-rate literature (to which the books you
mention belong), but to select the best authors, whose works will not
only entertain but instruct you. An excellent guide for you would be
William Swinton's _Masterpieces of English Literature_, recently
published by Harper & Brothers.
* * * * *
VIOLET S.--Your account of the proceedings of your society is not full
enough. Can you not favor us with a sprightly description of what is
done and said at your meetings, instead of giving the "order of
exercises" merely?
* * * * *
JOHN N. H.--Either hickory or sassafras wood is good material for bows.
* * * * *
HELEN G.--How to make the "Wiggles" was fully explained at the end of
the Post-office Box in No. 51 of YOUNG PEOPLE.
* * * * *
R. T. F.--Amber is not, as you suppose, made from "the sap of a tree in
South Africa," but is a fossil resin from several species of coniferous
or cone-bearing trees of a very remote geological period. More than 800
species of insects have been found preserved in amber, and leaves of 160
species of plants. Fine pieces of amber are very highly prized, and are
sometimes worth more than their weight in gold. The largest mass known
is in Berlin, Prussia. It weighs eighteen pounds, and is valued at
$30,000. Amber is extensively used for ornaments, the mouth-pieces of
pipes, etc. You may be able to procure a piece of some manufacturer of
meerschaum pipes.
The ancients prized amber very highly, and it was an important article
of commerce in early times. From the fact that it is found in large
quantities in the remains of the lake-villages of Switzerland, we know
that it must have been an article of exchange in prehistoric times.
* * * * *
FLOY.--If you have any pressed flowers, leaves, or other pretty objects
which can be sent easily by mail, we have no doubt some of our readers
would be glad to send you postage stamps in exchange for them. You can
put your offer in the Post-office Box.
* * * * *
JESSE H., JUN.--The English noun envelop, as well as the verb, is
accented on the second syllable. The French form of the word,
_envelope_, has an even accent on the three syllables. Our word is
derived from the French.
* * * * *
JEAN C. P.--Please give the name of the county in which the town of
Warren, where you live, is situated. There are several towns of that
name in Ohio, and correspondents will not know where to address you
unless the county is given also.
* * * * *
FORD D. LYON.--The controversy about the origin of the phrase,
"Consistency, thou art a jewel," has not been satisfactorily settled.
The saying has been floating about for a great many years, but no one
has been able to find out who started it on its travels.
* * * * *
GRACE.--The _ü_ in Olmütz is sounded like the French _u_, very difficult
to catch without the aid of a teacher. You can come very near it by
pronouncing the vowel _o_ and changing to _e_ without altering the
position of the lips.
* * * * *
C. G. G.--The time required for the transmission of a signal through the
Atlantic cable varies according to the condition of the batteries. A
dispatch has been sent from New York to London and the answer received
within an hour.
* * * * *
JAMES MCK.--No charge is made in the matter about which you ask.
* * * * *
SALLIE K., Cincinnati, Ohio.--The name of the street in which you live
is so obscurely written that we can not make it out. Write it very
plainly, and we will print your request.
* * * * *
DAISY R.--Send enough to make a pretty wreath.
* * * * *
JENNIE S. M.--A very good recipe for butterscotch was given in a letter
from Kittie G. in the Post-office Box of YOUNG PEOPLE No. 37.
* * * * *
HENRY C. D.--Glass for windows was made during the Middle Ages in all
European countries. In England glass-painting for windows was practiced
in 1338. Some splendid windows of York Cathedral were painted at that
period by John Thornton, of Coventry. In the fifteenth century English
window-glass was more expensive than any other kind of glass. The
Egyptians made glass at a very early period of their national existence.
Paintings representing glass-blowers making a very large vase show that
nearly 4000 years ago the Egyptians were far advanced in this art.
* * * * *
Favors are acknowledged from Garrett Waggener, Bertha Herron, C. C.
Shelley, Jun., Stella Pratt, George W. Taymun, Flora C. B., Mabel White,
Alice Brown, J. W. Menefee, Orrie H. Clark, Shelton H. Hibbs, H. H. J.,
S. H. R., W. H. Scherzer, Carrie and Belle N., Albert Woolley, B. D.
Ellis, C. G. Myers, B. Tompkins, E. Fay Stevens, H. McIlvain, Frank A.
Harmony, Annie S. and Bennie C. Duffie, F. H. Kellogg, Everett Jones,
Lewis B. Frazier, Lyman Perley, Sidney J. Carson, Katie Dale, Louis
Mareé, Tamar Love, Thomas Buford, Fredy Leser.
* * * * *
Correct answers to puzzles are received from C. H. McB., Hugh Pilcairn,
Thomas Cook, George Dudley Kyte, "Lone Star," Harry and Isobel Jacob.
* * * * *
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
WORD SQUARES--(_To Owlet_).
1. First, a piece of ordnance formerly used for blowing up barricades
and other defensive works. Second, a female name. Third, to feel a
sharp, pricking sensation. Fourth, a state in Africa. Fifth, part of a
printing-press. Sixth, having a melancholy appearance.
ZELOTES.
2. First, to disturb. Second, to weaken. Third, a Turkish coin. Fourth,
absent without leave. Fifth, to show clearly. Sixth, leased.
BOLUS.
* * * * *
No. 2.
DIAMOND.
A letter. A small vessel. A hut. A celebration. A guide. A snare. A
letter.
WENNIE.
* * * * *
No. 3.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
An ensign. A boy's name. A wonder. Finished. Answer.--Two things to gain
which men often make great sacrifices and devote all their energies.
LONE STAR.
* * * * *
No. 4.
ENIGMA.
First in sieve, not in pail.
Second in rum, not in ale.
Third in calf, not in ox.
Fourth in cat, not in fox.
Fifth in rude, not in kind.
Sixth in brain, not in mind.
Seventh in wheat, not in hay.
The whole a savage bird of prey.
OSCAR.
* * * * *
No. 5.
ACROSTIC.
Place seven divisions of the United States in such order that, their
initials read downward spell the name of another.
BOLUS.
NEW BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS.
A book of good songs for children is a household treasure. There is no
prettier sight than to see brothers and sisters gathered around the
piano during a long winter evening, mamma or the eldest sister playing
the accompaniment and leading in the singing, while sweet childish
voices fill the room with melody. _A Book of Rhymes and Tunes_[1]
contains more than a hundred pretty songs suitable for these household
conceits. Some of the melodies are new, others familiar, but all are
re-arranged and written in low keys to suit children's voices. Simple
accompaniments are given, such as can be easily understood by a young
pianist, and many songs have both English and German or French words.
The melodies are exceedingly attractive, and are such as will cultivate
good musical taste in youthful musicians.
* * * * *
_Zigzag Journeys in Classic Lands_[2] is a handsomely bound and well
illustrated volume, from which young readers can learn a great many
things about the history, legends, and present appearance of Spain,
Italy, Greece, and some other European countries. This book is written
in a chatty, familiar style, and the information given by the teacher to
the class of boys who are travelling under his care is of the kind to
especially interest boys and girls.
* * * * *
The fun and frolic of _Five Little Mice in a Mouse-Trap_,[3] as told by
the Man in the Moon, will be a source of delight to many other little
"mice." Nibble, Brighteyes, Fluff, Puff, and Downy, the baby, are real,
living children. They chase butterflies and bees up and down in the
"mouse-trap" garden, play with dolls and dogs and kittens, and have a
splendid time. Uncle Jack is the best of uncles, and the Man in the Moon
a constant friend. The story of the Mice is beautifully illustrated with
drawings by Kate Greenaway, Addie Ledyard, and others.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _A Book of Rhymes and Tunes_. Compiled and arranged by MARGARET
PEARMAIN OSGOOD. Translations by LOUISA Y. CRAIGIN. 8vo, pp. 128.
Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co.
[2] _Zigzag Journeys in Classic Lands; or, Tommy Toby's Trip to Mount
Parnassus_. By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. Illustrated. 8vo, pp. 318. Boston:
Estes & Lauriat.
[3] _Five Little Mice in a Mouse-Trap, by the Man in the Moon_. By LAURA
E. RICHARDS. Illustrated. 8vo, pp. 228. Boston: Estes & Lauriat.
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.
SINGLE COPIES, 4 cents; ONE SUBSCRIPTION, one year, $1.50; FIVE
SUBSCRIPTIONS, one year, $7.00--_payable in advance, postage free_.
The Volumes of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE commence with the first Number in
November of each year.
Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it
will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the
Number issued after the receipt of the order.
Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY-ORDER OR DRAFT, to avoid
risk of loss.
Volume I., containing the first 52 Numbers, handsomely bound in
illuminated cloth, $3.00, postage prepaid: Cover, title-page, and index
for Volume I., 35 cents; postage, 13 cents additional.
HARPER & BROTHERS,
Franklin Square, N. Y.
[Illustration]
THE FATE OF MR. BROWN.
Mr. Brown, from Boston,
Never was quite pleased;
He visited a country friend,
And fretted, frowned, and teased.
"The birds sing so loudly,"
Such was his complaint;
"The fowls are so noisy--
Teach them some restraint.
"A hen should lay eggs
And cackling forego,
And cocks in the morning
More musically crow.
"But the-world is all wrong,
I'll go back to town;"
_And here the earth opened_,
_And swallowed Mr. Brown_.
HATTY IN A FRIGHT.
As Hatty tripped along the stair
Lightly ran a rat behind her;
Hatty screamed, I do declare,
Till we had to seize and bind her.
HASTY WIN.
A terrible Turk, with a gay turbaned head,
His brow puckered up in a crease,
Bends over a kettle of simmering red.--
"Fly, Johnny, and call the police.
"Some mischief he's cooking; just look at him grin:
A prison is what he deserves."
"You goose of a boy, ridiculous Win,
_He is making rose preserves_."
DOLLY'S ENDING.
The night she should have been a bride,
That night my precious dolly--_died_.
In a robe of spangled gold
Hide her from the sunshine bold,
The fleet beauty of a rose
Marking the spot of her repose.
End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, January 11, 1881, by Various