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GOLDEN DAYS
For Boys and Girls
Vol. XIII--No. 51. November 12, 1892.
Philadelphia:
JAMES ELVERSON,
Publisher.
* * * * *
[Transcriber's Note:
The notation [->] represents the pointing-finger symbol. Text
incorporated into advertising illustrations is shown in (parentheses);
where necessary, a brief description of the illustration is given in
{braces}.
The layout of the advertising pages is shown after all text, along with
a list of file names for major illustrations. Typographical errors in
the original, whether corrected or not, are listed at the end.]
* * * * *
*SERVE YOURSELF, AND YOUR FRIENDS
WILL THINK MORE O' YOU*
_You'll enjoy the good opinion
of YOUR friends if you use_
SAPOLIO
TRY A CAKE OF IT AND JUDGE FOR YOURSELVES.
* * * * *
*From the Advocate, Londonville, Ohio.*
Good reading matter is as essential to the young people as good
food--its effect is seen in after years. Especially do they need good,
pure fiction, which engages their attention and excludes mischievous
ideas, leaving a lasting impression. In its great variety of short and
continued stories, GOLDEN DAYS is among the foremost, and its
illustrations are artistic. Puzzledom delights the solvers, while the
Letter Box contains much information and is read by old and young.
Although the Exchange Column will not publish any notices of a dangerous
character, yet it is always crowded and has been used to advantage by
its readers. The publisher knows the wants of the young folks, and the
pens of the young people's favorite writers are employed for GOLDEN
DAYS. It can be purchased weekly, or bound in magazine form, at the end
of the month. Send to the publisher, James Elverson, Philadelphia, for a
sample copy.
*From The Argus, Ashton, Dakota.*
To the young people of Spink County who enjoy first-class reading we can
truthfully recommend GOLDEN DAYS, published by James Elverson,
Philadelphia. It is a weekly publication, and filled with the purest of
reading matter, and yet the well-known desire of the young for stories
of adventure is not forgotten, for while the interest of the reader is
held by the power of the writers, yet there is nothing at any time that
could offend the most fastidious, while the youthful mind is led on to
emulate the good acts portrayed. Write for sample copies.
*From the Milton (Penna.) Economist.*
GOLDEN DAYS is filled with a choice selection of original stories and
pure reading matter of the highest order, together with numerous
illustrations. The contributors are many of the best and most
widely-known story writers of the world. One grand feature of this
journal is that it contains nothing that will be in any way leading to
the tainting of the moral or religious life of the young, which is the
case with so many of the story papers of the present day. We commend the
paper to parents who wish to get the best juvenile paper; and those of
our young readers who wish to get and read serial stories of a pure and
moral tendency should not fail to subscribe to GOLDEN DAYS.
* * * * *
$45 SAFETY BICYCLES FREE.
Stoddart & Co., 19 Quincy Street, Chicago, Ill., are giving away an
elegant $45 Safety Bicycle to boys and girls under eighteen, without one
cent of money, on very easy conditions, for advertising purposes. We
advise those who want one to write them at once.
* * * * *
*From the Daily News, Geneseo, N.Y.*
We wish we could impress upon the mind of every father how cheaply he
could make the home circle doubly attractive by subscribing for the
GOLDEN DAYS, decidedly the most valuable and most interesting pictorial
newspaper we ever saw, not only for the children, but for the entire
family. For the sake of his children we sincerely urge every father to
send to the office for a specimen copy, when he can see for himself the
great value it will be in his family, and he will thank us in his heart
for calling his attention to it. Address James Elverson, publisher,
GOLDEN DAYS, corner Ninth and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia, Penna.
*From the Clifton and Landsdowne Times.*
GOLDEN DAYS.--We would like to be able to place this weekly journal in
the hands of every girl and boy in the county who cannot afford to
subscribe for or buy it from news agents. But the girls and boys of that
kind, we fear, are "too many for us." A sad fact, too, by-the-way, when
we reflect that a little thought and a bit of economy on the part of
themselves or their parents would do what it is not in our power to
accomplish. Nevertheless, they ought to know what GOLDEN DAYS is,
namely, a sixteen-page weekly journal, with finely-illustrated articles
on various subjects of interest to young people, embracing natural
history, philosophy and other branches of education, together with
pleasing, instructive and moral stories by the best authors. It is just
what is wanted for the youthful mind seeking for useful information, and
ready at the same time to enjoy what is entertaining and healthful. If
all girls and boys could peruse and profit by its columns every week,
they in time would grow up to be women and men, intelligent, patriotic
and influential in their lives; and lest any who may read these words
are ignorant--which is hardly possible--of the whereabouts of GOLDEN
DAYS, we gladly give the address, James Elverson, Ninth and Spruce
Streets, Philadelphia.
*From the Star and News, Mount Joy, Pa.*
GOLDEN DAYS is the title of a weekly publication for boys and girls,
published by James Elverson, Philadelphia, at $3 a year. Each issue is
filled with a choice selection of original stories and pure reading
matter of the highest order, together with numerous illustrations. The
contributors are many of the best and most widely known story-writers of
the world. One grand feature of this journal is that it contains nothing
that will be in any way leading to the tainting of the moral or
religious life of the young, which is the case with so many of the story
papers of the present day. We commend the paper to parents who wish to
get the best juvenile paper, and those of our young readers who wish to
get and read serial stories of a pure and moral tendency, should not
fail to subscribe for GOLDEN DAYS.
*From the Cincinnati Suburban News.*
Twenty copies of the GOLDEN DAYS are sold weekly at Moore's book store.
The number ought to be forty, for it is the best juvenile publication we
know of. It is most beautifully illustrated, and the reading is of a
very high order, much of it historical and biographical. The price is
only six cents per week.
*From the Canton Press, Canton, Mo.*
The GOLDEN DAYS is pushing forward to a position in the field of
juvenile journalism that will make it the _ne plus ultra_. Its stories
sparkle with originality and interest, and its poems are the best.
Published at $3 a year by James Elverson, Philadelphia, Pa. Send for a
free sample copy.
* * * * *
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[Illustration]
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Self-taught, without notes; *24 charts 50c.*
*BANJO* _without notes (80 pp., 100 pieces) $1_
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STRANGE BUT TRUE! *I give away Pianos, Organs and Sewing Machines*
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* * * * *
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* * * * *
[Illustration]
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STAMP COLLECTORS
May learn something to their advantage and receive a Central American
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Different rare stamps, including West Australia, Hawaiian, Liberia, Hong
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All diff., *Egypt, Japan,* etc., 10c.; 20 *Roumania,* 25c. Agts. wanted.
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* * * * *
Advertising Rates for "Golden Days."
Single insertions, 75c. per Agate line.
Four insertions, 70c. per Agate line for each insertion.
Thirteen insertions, 65c. per Agate line for each insertion.
Twenty-six " 60c. per Agate line for each insertion.
Fifty-two " 50c. per Agate line for each insertion.
_Eight words average a line. Fourteen lines make one inch._
JAMES ELVERSON, Publisher.
PHILADELPHIA, PA.
* * * * *
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[Illustration:
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WGT 23 LBS. HGT. 18 IN.)]
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* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
GOLDEN DAYS
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS
(Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by
James Elverson, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at
Washington, D.C.)
VOL. XIII.
JAMES ELVERSON, Publisher.
N.W. corner Ninth and Spruce Sts.
PHILADELPHIA, NOVEMBER 12, 1892.
TERMS
$3.00 Per Annum, In Advance.
No. 51.
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
OFF SHORE,
or
Matt and Natt's Venture.
BY WM. PENDLETON CHIPMAN,
Author of "The Mill Boy of the Genesee,"
"The Young Linemen," etc.
CHAPTER I.
MATT HIRES OUT.
It was a raw, cold day in early April. Since morning, the clouds had
been gathering, and they now hung, dark and heavy, over both land and
sea. The wind, too, which had been steadily increasing for hours in
violence, now blew little short of a gale. It evidently was going to be
a terrible night, and that night was nearly at hand.
No one realized this more than the boy who, with a small bundle in one
hand and a stout staff in the other, was walking rapidly along the road
that runs, for the greater part of the way, in sight of Long Island
Sound, from New Haven to New London.
He was a youth that would have attracted attention anywhere. Tall for
his age, which could not have been far from eighteen years, he was also
of good proportions, and walked with an ease and stride which suggested
reserved strength and muscular development; but it was the boy's face
that was most noticeable. Frank, open, of singular beauty in feature and
outline, there was also upon it unmistakable evidences of intelligence,
resoluteness and honesty of purpose. A close observer might also have
detected traces of suffering or of sorrow--possibly of some great burden
hard to bear.
The boy was none too warmly clad for the chilly air and piercing wind,
and now and then drew his light overcoat about him, as though even his
rapid walking did not make him entirely comfortable.
He, moreover, looked eagerly ahead, like one who was watching for some
signs of his destination. Reaching at length the foot of a long hill, he
drew a sigh of relief, and said, aloud:
"I must be near the place now. They said it was at the top of the first
long hill I came to, and this must be it."
As he spoke, he quickened his pace to a run and soon reached the summit,
quite out of breath, but with a genial warmth in his body that he had
not experienced for some hours.
Pausing now a moment to catch his breath, he looked about him. Dim as
was the light of the fast-falling evening, he could not help giving an
exclamation of delight at the view he beheld.
To the west of him he saw the twinkling lights of several villages,
through which he had already passed. To the north, there was a vast
stretch of land, shrouded in darkness. To the south was the Sound, its
tossing waves capped with white, its islands like so many gems on the
bosom of the angry waters.
"It must be a beautiful place to live in, and I hope to find a home
here," he remarked, as he resumed his journey.
A few rods farther he reached a farmhouse and turned up to its nearest
door. As he was about to knock, a man came from the barn-yard, a little
distance away, and accosted him.
"Good-evening!"
"Good-evening!" responded the boy. Then he asked, "Is this Mr. Noman?"
"No, I'm Mr. Goodenough," answered the man, pleasantly. "Noman lives on
the adjoining farm. You will have to turn into the next gateway and go
down the lane, as his house stands some distance from the road."
"I was told," explained the boy, "that he wished to hire help, and I
hoped to get work there. Could you tell me what the prospect is?"
The man had now reached the boy's side, and was looking him over with
evident curiosity.
"Well," he replied, slowly. "I think he wants a young fellow for the
coming season, and hadn't hired any one the last I knew. But I think you
must be a stranger in these parts?"
"Yes," the youth answered, briefly.
And then, thanking the man for his information, he turned away.
"I thought so," Mr. Goodenough called after him, "else you wouldn't want
to go there to work."
The boy scarcely gave heed to the remark at the time; but it was not
long before he learned, by hard experience, the meaning of it.
A quarter of a mile up the road he reached a gate, and, passing through
it, hastened down the narrow lane till he came to a long, low,
dilapidated house; but in the darkness, which had by this time fallen,
he was not able to form any definite idea of his surroundings.
A feeble light issued from a back window, and, guided by that, he found
the rear door of the building.
To his knock there was a chorus of responses. Dogs barked, children
screamed, and above the din a gruff voice shouted, "Come in!"
A little disconcerted by the unusual sounds, the boy, instead of obeying
the invitation, knocked again.
Then there was a heavy step across the floor, the door swung open with a
jerk, and a tall, raw-boned man, shaggy-bearded and shock haired, stood
on the threshold.
Eying the boy a moment in surprise, he asked, somewhat surlily:
"What do ye want, youngster?"
"Are you Mr. Noman?" the boy asked.
"Yes; what of it?" he answered, sharply.
"I was told you wanted help, and I have called to see about it,"
explained the boy.
[Illustration:
"THEN CAME A SUDDEN BREAKER, ROLLING OUTWARD, THAT LIFTED THE CART
AND OXEN FROM THE ROAD-BED AND SWEPT THEM OUT INTO THE SOUND."]
"Come in, then!" said Mr. Noman.
And his tones were wonderfully modified.
The boy now obeyed, and found himself in a large room, evidently the
kitchen and living-room all in one. There was no carpet on the floor,
and a stove, a table and a half-dozen chairs constituted its furniture.
Three large dogs lay before the fire, growling sullenly. A woman and
four small children were seated at the table. An empty chair and an
unemptied plate showed that Mr. Noman had been eating when he was called
to the door.
There was food enough upon the table, but its disorderly arrangement,
and the haphazard way in which each child was helping itself, caused the
boy to give an involuntary shudder, as his host invited him to sit down
"an' take a bite, while they talked over business together."
Mr. Noman evidently meant to give his caller a flattering impression of
his hospitality, for he heaped the boy's plate with cold pork, brown
bread and vegetables, and even called on his wife to get some of that
"apple sass" for the young stranger.
The boy was hungry, and the food was, after all, wholesome, and he
stowed away a quantity that surprised himself, if not his host.
When supper was eaten, Mr. Noman pushed back his chair and abruptly
asked his guest:
"Who air ye?"
"Matt Rives," promptly replied the boy.
"That's a kinder cur'us name, now, ain't it?" questioned Mr. Noman.
"I dunno any Riveses round here. Where be ye from?"
"I came from New York State," replied Matt, with the air of one who had
studied his answer, but it seemed for some reason to be very
satisfactory to his questioner.
"Any parents?" next inquired Mr. Noman.
"No, sir--nor brothers nor sisters. I've no one but myself to look out
for."
"I guess ye ain't used to farm work, be ye?" now inquired Mr. Noman,
doubtingly, and looking at Matt's hands, which were as white and soft as
a lady's.
"No, sir; but I'm willing to learn," assured Matt.
"Of course ye can't expect much in the way of wages," remarked Mr.
Noman, cautiously.
"No, not until I can do my full share of work," replied Matt,
indifferently.
A light gleamed for a moment in Mr. Noman's eyes.
"I might give ye ten dollars a month an' board, beginnin' the fust of
next month, ye to work round for yer board till then," he ventured.
"Very well," responded the boy; and immediately after he added, "I've
walked a good ways to-day, and if you don't mind I'll go to my room."
"Perhaps we'd better draw up a paper of agreement an' both of us sign
it," suggested Mr. Noman, rubbing his hands vigorously together, as
though well pleased with himself and everybody else.
"All right, if that is your custom," said Matt. "Draw up the paper to
suit you, and I'll sign it."
After considerable effort, Mr. Noman produced the following document:
"On this 10th day of April, Matt Rives, a miner of New York State,
agres to work for me, Thomas Noman. He's to begin work May fust,
an' work 6 munths at 10 dollers an' bord. He's too work till May
fust for his bord. If he quits work 'fore his time is up he's to
have no pay. To this we agre.
"THOMAS NOMAN, on his part."
Matt read the paper, and could scarcely suppress a smile as he signed
his name under Mr. Noman's, and, in imitation of him, added the words
"on his part" after the signature.
He knew, however much importance Mr. Noman might attach to it, that as a
legal document it had no special force. He simply set down the whole act
as one of the whims of his eccentric employer, and gave no more thought
to the matter. But it was destined to serve that gentleman's purpose,
nevertheless, until taken forcibly from him.
Mr. Noman now showed Matt up to a back room on the second floor, and,
telling him that he would call him early in the morning, bade him
good-night.
The room Matt had entered was bare and cold; a single chair, a narrow
bedstead, a rude rack on the wall to hang his garments upon, were all it
contained.
Yet it was evidently with some satisfaction that he opened his bundle,
hung up the few clothes it held and prepared for bed.
As he drew the quilts over him, he murmured:
"I don't think I ever had more uncomfortable quarters in my life, and
the outlook for the next six months at least is far from encouraging.
Still, I would not go back to what I have left behind for anything."
He was tired. The rain that was now falling heavily upon the roof just
over his head acted as a sedative and lulled him to sleep. But his was
not an unbroken rest, for at times he tossed to and fro and muttered
strange, disconnected sentences. One was:
"I know it was not he. I will pay it back to the last cent."
After that the troubled sleeper must have had pleasanter dreams, for a
smile played about his lips, and he murmured:
"It is all right now; I've a home at last."
From these, however, he was rudely awakened by a gruff call:
"Matt, Matt! git up an' come out to the barn."
Sleepy, bewildered, he arose and groped about in the darkness for his
clothing. By the time he was dressed a full consciousness of his
situation had come back to him, and, with a stout heart, Matt went out
to begin what was to him equally new duties and a new life.