CHAPTER XXII.

TWO SHORT BUT EXCITING VOYAGES.

"I tell you, Rick Dale, that was a close shave," said Bonny, as the

steamer moved away from the Tacoma wharf.

"Wasn't it, though! But it seems to me, Bonny, that smuggling must be

one of the worst crimes a person can commit, judging from the anxiety

those fellows show to capture us. I knew it was bad, but I hadn't any

idea it was so serious."

"It does look as if we were wanted," admitted Bonny; "but we've thrown

'em off the track this time, so they won't bother us any more. Didn't we

do it neatly?"

"Yes, we certainly did. But where do you suppose we are going now?"

"Haven't the least idea, and don't care. Maybe to China, maybe to San

Francisco, and maybe to Alaska. Yes, I think this must be an Alaska

ship, for I remember now seeing a big Eskimo dog taken ashore just as we

came aboard, and Alaska is where they come from. If she is bound for

Alaska, though, she'll stop at Port Townsend and Victoria on the way,

and we must lie low until after we pass the first. It would never do to

be put off there, for that's headquarters for the whole revenue

business, and they'd scoop us in quick enough. I wouldn't mind Victoria

so very much, though."

"I should," objected Alaric, who feared that the Sountaggs might have

telegraphed from Japan to have him apprehended and forwarded to them. "I

don't like Victoria, and neither do I want to go to any of the places

you have mentioned."

"Very well," laughed Bonny, who, with a sense of freedom, had regained

all his light-heartedness. "Just send word to the Captain where you want

to go, and he'll probably be pleased to take you there."

For an hour or so longer the boys discussed their plans and prospects.

Then, as it was growing dark and they were becoming very hungry, Bonny

proposed to skirmish around and see what the chances were for obtaining

something to eat. Bidding Alaric remain in hiding until his return, the

young sailor sallied forth. In a moment he reappeared with the news that

the ship was putting in at Seattle and was already close to the wharf.

"That's good," said Alaric. "Seattle is much better for us than Fort

Townsend, or Victoria, San Francisco, China, or even Alaska. So I move

we go ashore and try our luck."

This was what they were obliged to do, whether or no, for the ship was

hardly moored before they were discovered by one of the mates, who

chased them ashore.

"Whew-w!" gasped Alaric, after they had run to a safe distance. "It

seems to me that working your way through the world consists mainly in

being chased by people who are bigger and stronger than you are."

"Yes," remarked Bonny, philosophically. "I've noticed that. It's the

same way with sparrows and dogs too; the strong ones are always picking

or growling at those that are weaker. Being chased, though, is better

than being caught, and we haven't been that yet. Now let's go up town

and see about a hotel."

This mention of a hotel reminded Alaric of his previous visit to Seattle

and the great "Rainier" away up on the hill-side in which he had spent

the day. But Rainier dinners were not for poor boys, and with a

regretful sigh he followed his comrade in another direction.

It is hard to say how our lads expected to obtain the meal for which

they longed; but whatever hopes they had were doomed to disappointment,

for after wandering about the streets a couple of hours their hunger was

as unsatisfied as ever. Finally Bonny asked a policeman if there was not

some place in that great city where a boy without one cent in his pocket

could get something to eat.

"There's a free-soup kitchen on Jessler Avenue," answered the man, "but

it's closed for the night now, and you can't get anything there before

seven o'clock to-morrow morning. But what do strong young fellows like

you want of soup-kitchens? Why ain't ye at work, earning an honest

living? Tramps is no good, anyway, and if you don't chase yourselves out

of this I'll run you in. See?"

Seven o'clock to-morrow morning! How could they wait? and yet there

seemed nothing else to be done. Slowly and despondently the lads made

their way back to the wharf on which they had landed, for even that

seemed a better place in which to pass the long night hours than the

unfriendly streets.

They eluded the vigilance of a night-watchman, and gained the shelter of

a pile of hay bales, on which they stretched themselves wearily.

"I'd almost rather be in China, or even a well-fed smuggler," announced

Alaric.

"Wouldn't I?" responded Bonny; "and won't I if ever I get another

chance? I don't believe anything would seem wrong to a fellow as hungry

as I am, if it only brought him something to eat. Even chewing hay is

some comfort."

At length they fell into an uneasy sleep, from which they were awakened

a few hours later by the sound of voices close at hand. In one of these

they instantly, and with sinking hearts, recognized that of their

relentless pursuer, the revenue-cutter's third Lieutenant. The other

person was evidently answering a question, for he was saying:

"Yes, sir, I seen a couple of young rascals such as you describe chased

off the Alaska boat by the mate. They started up town, but I make no

doubt they'll be back here again. Such as them is always hanging around

the docks."

"If they do come around, and you can catch them, just hold on to them,

for they are wanted by the government, and there is a reward offered for

them," said the officer.

"Ay, ay, sir; I'll nab 'em for ye if they comes this way again," was the

answer, and then both speakers moved out of hearing toward the upper end

of the wharf.

The poor, hunted lads, trembling at the narrowness of their escape,

peered after the retreating forms. Then Bonny's attention was attracted

to the lights of a white side-wheel steamer lying at the outer end of

the wharf that seemed on the point of departure.

"Look here, Rick," he whispered, "this place is growing too hot for us,

and we've got to get out of it. There's the _City of Kingston_, and she

is going to Victoria or Tacoma, I don't know which. Either of them would

be better for us than Seattle just now, though, because in Victoria the

revenue folks couldn't touch us, and in Tacoma they won't be looking for

us. What do you say, shall we try for a passage on her?"

"Yes," replied Alaric. "I suppose so, for it is certain that we must get

away from here somehow. I hope she won't take us to Victoria, though."

So the young fugitives stole down the wharf in darkest shadows to where

a force of men were busily at work by lantern-light, trucking freight up

a broad gang-plank from the steamer's lower deck, and at the same time

carrying aboard the small quantity that was to go somewhere else. Among

this was a lot of household goods.

"Now," whispered Bonny, "we've got to be quick, for there isn't much

more to be done. I'll run aboard with one of these trucks, while you

grab a chair or something from that pile of stuff and follow after. Each

of us must hide on his own hook in the first place he comes to, and if

we don't find a chance to get together on the trip, we'll meet on the

wharf at the first place she stops. Sabe?"

"Yes. Go ahead."

[Illustration: BONNY SEIZED A TRUCK, AND ALARIC A MATTRESS.]

So Bonny boldly picked up one of several idle trucks that lay near by,

and rattled it down the gang-plank with every appearance of bustling

activity. As he trundled it aft along the dimly lighted deck he was

greeted by a gruff voice from the darkness with:

"Get that truck out of here. Didn't you hear me say I didn't need any

more of 'em?"

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the pretended stevedore, facing promptly about

and wheeling his truck away. In a place where there seemed to be no one

looking he set it gently down, and walked forward as boldly as though

executing some order just received. Away up in the bows of the steamer

he found a great coil of rope, in which he snuggled down like a bird in

a nest.

Alaric was not quite so fortunate. He watched Bonny disappear with his

truck in the dark interior of the boat, and then, taking a mattress from

the pile of household goods, marched aboard with it in his arms. Walking

aft with his awkward burden, he stumbled across the truck that Bonny had

left in the passage and sprawled at full length. As luck would have it,

the mattress, loosed from his grasp, struck the mate who was coming that

way and nearly knocked him down.

Springing furiously forward, the man aimed a kick at the prostrate lad,

called him a clumsy lunkhead, and ordered him to wheel the truck up on

to the wharf.

There was nothing for it but to return to the wharf with the truck.

Then, to his dismay, Alaric found that there was no freight left to be

taken on board. The pile of household goods had disappeared. As he stood

for a moment irresolute another gruff voice sang out to him to cast off

the breast line and get aboard in a hurry if he didn't want to get left.

Alaric had no more idea than the man in the moon of what a breast line

was; but he knew what to cast off a line meant, and, making a blind

guess, fortunately did the right thing. By this time the gang-plank was

hauled in, and obeying the order "Jump! you chuckle-head!" the lad took

a flying leap that landed him on all fours on the deck. As he regained

his feet the lad was ordered aft, but he managed to slip away before

reaching the stern, and hid among the very household goods he had helped

bring aboard.

Here, after lying for a while pondering over the strange fortunes by

which every step of his path into the world of active life seemed to be

beset, he fell asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight, and he was

being greeted by an angry roar from the gruff voice of the night before.

"Shirking, are ye, you lazy young hound? I'll teach ye!"

Picking up a bit of rope and whirling it about his head, the mate sprang

toward the lad, who darted away in terror; nor did he stop until he

found himself clear of the boat and running up a long wharf.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

IN THE TOWER OF MANY STORIES.

HENRY THE EIGHTH.

(_In Two Parts._)

BY MRS. LEW. WALLACE.

I.

[Illustration: ANNE'S CROWN.]

There was once a King of England whose family name should have been

Bluebeard, but it happened to be Henry Tudor, and a proud old name it

was too. Born in 1501, Prince Henry was just eighteen when he came to

the throne, and his subjects were well pleased to see an end to the long

Wars of the Roses, because in him were united both lines, the White and

the Red, and that meant peace. He had a most fortunate start--riches,

power, health, friends. Life lay fair before; what would he do with it?

His unpopular father's avarice had massed an immense fortune, and the

son was quite ready to spend it. He was well educated, a bold huntsman

and dashing rider, full of spirit and energy, and with a turn for

letters and business. He must have had wonderful strength, for his armor

weighed ninety-two pounds. It is in London Tower yet, is of German-work,

silvered and engraved over with saintly legends and scroll-work, and the

initials H. and K. for Henry and Katharine of Aragon.

[Illustration: HENRY VIII.]

The King was exceedingly attractive. An Ambassador from Italy, the land

of beauty, wrote: "Nature could not have done more for him. He is much

handsomer than any other sovereign of Christendom--a good deal handsomer

than the King of France--very fair, and his whole frame admirably

proportioned. He is fond of hunting, and never takes his diversion

without tiring eight or ten horses, which he has stationed beforehand

along the line of country he means to take; and when one is tired he

mounts another, and before he gets home they are all exhausted. He is

extremely fond of tennis, at which game it is the prettiest thing in the

world to see him play, his fair skin glowing through a shirt of the

finest texture."

Bluebeard had six wives. The second is the one whose woful tale I have

to tell. Early in his reign he married Katharine of Aragon, a noble

Princess, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, whose girlhood had been

spent among the orange gardens and tinkling fountains of the Alhambra.

She had a maid of honor named Anne Boleyn, a light-hearted damsel,

skilled in music, singing delightfully, full of repartee, with a laugh

gay as her costumes and dances. Her favorite dress was blue velvet

starred with silver, a mantle of watered silver lined with minever, and

on her little feet blue velvet shoes flashing each with a diamond star;

around her head a gold-colored aureole of gauze above a fall of ringlets

rich and rare. A toilet that well became her dimples, her fresh lips,

her teeth like hailstones, and her witching glance. Tall and slender was

she, a true daughter of the Howards, and so "passing sweet and cheerful"

that every man who looked on her was her lover.

At the midnight ball given to the French Ambassador, the King chose her

for his partner in the dance, and Mistress Anne's pretty head was

wellnigh turned by the royal flatterer's whispers of sparkling eyes and

twinkling feet and the fairest hand he ever touched, and then he kissed

her.

Soon he began to write letters, beginning "Mine own Sweetheart," and

sent her a jewel valued at fifteen thousand crowns. Then he would ride

out to visit her in the chestnut avenues of Hever Castle, gallantly

prancing along the greenwood, and sounding his bugle to announce his

approach, for he went unattended.

At first Anne resented such close attention from one already married,

King though he was; but the letters came often and the writer came

oftener, and in the dewy springtime they strolled through flowery

gardens together, and heard the nightingale's love-song to the rose, and

the cuckoo pipe her pretty note telling her name to the meadow-larks,

till the fair maid forgot her honor and began to think wild thoughts.

Woodland scents and sounds were sweet, but perfumed palace chambers were

sweeter, and court minstrel and laureate sang as never did bird in

summer.

What a fine thing it would be, by-and-by, to sit on the throne of

England in the place of the faded old Queen, six years older than her

husband, the magnificent monarch Henry the Eighth! Evidently he tired of

the wife of his youth, and plotted separation from her who had

faithfully loved and obeyed him more than twenty years.

The tale of divorce is too long to tell here; enough that it was done by

the help of the Church, and Queen Katharine was ordered to leave the

court. She made a dignified speech before her judges, declaring herself

daughter of a King and still Queen of England, and should so continue to

the end of her days. She then retired to the palace assigned her,

degraded--no, not degraded, but shorn of her rank, and yet loving him

without change. Her last message written in banishment was, "I make this

vow, that mine eyes desire you above all things."

Henry admitted that Kate had been the best of wives; but the old love

was off, the new one was on, and a private marriage with Anne Boleyn

took place--just when and where is not known. The coronation was

proclaimed May, 1534, and London, in sleepless preparation, made ready

to hail Anne Boleyn Queen Consort of England.

The Tower was at that time palace as well as prison and fortress, and

the Thames was crowded with every sort of craft, full of crews who

flocked to behold the like of which has not been seen before or since in

that greatest city on the earth. Bells chimed, music floated over the

water, and thousands of flags saluted when Anne came out of Greenwich

Palace clad in cloth of gold, attended by her maidens--a beauteous sight

to see. When she reached the Tower in the state barge a mighty peal of

guns was shot off. The tremendous wave of sound broke over the barriers

of Katharine's retreat, and oh, how the salute smote the ear of the

neglected and forgotten Queen, where she sat mourning for her dead sons

and worse than dead husband!

The roofs and bridges were alive with men and boys, musicians playing

divers instruments, and making a far-reaching melody of trumpets. The

Lord Mayor and officers of the city were in crimson and scarlet, with

gold chains round their necks, and there was no end of velvet, ermine,

and jewels. Carpets of Persia and India hung from windows and balconies,

and there was such splendor as tongue cannot tell, or minstrel sing, or

painter paint.

Henry met the bride at the water's edge, showy in white and green, the

livery colors of his family. We can imagine he looked right kingly, for

he was of heroic height, and had not reached the swinish shape that in

later years made him the likeness of a prize pig at the fair, a

monstrous brute. He kissed Anne, called her the desire of his heart and

the delight of his eyes, and vowed to love her and none other while

woods grow and rivers run to the sea.

Days of merriment and revel welcomed her to the palace, and then the

coronation came. The streets were gravelled from Tower to Temple Bar,

and freshly hung with purple. The crown of Edward the Confessor was too

heavy for the girlish brow, and a new one was made for the new Queen,

mainly of rubies red as blood. You may see it in the jewel-room of the

Tower with the other crowns and the Kohinoor of Queen Victoria.

There were vast processions of horsemen, Ambassadors with badges and

decorations, and so many collars set with gems it was said whole estates

were carried on men's shoulders. A fountain ran wine, and any--the

way-side beggar with the rest--might put in his cup and drink his fill.

Even the cooks wore satin that day.

[Illustration: THE CORONATION CHAIR.]

But all else was of slight interest--Duke and Earl, belted knight and

high-born gentleman--beside the lady for whom the parade was ordered.

She was seated in an open litter covered with cloth of gold shot with

white. Her robe was silver tissue under a mantle of ermine, auburn

ringlets flowing on her shoulders below the ruby crown. The ladies

attending were mounted on palfreys with trappings that shone with gold

and crimson. It was in bridal June, when merry England is merriest, and

with shoutings and trumpetings Anne entered Westminster, and was crowned

at the high altar of the Abbey. Royal purple took the place of crimson

robes, and the unholy marriage was preceded by the Holy Sacrament, and

made a sinful mockery with vows solemn and binding. Countesses and

marchionesses were the Queen's train-bearers, and the world seemed at

her feet. No warning prophet was there to foretell that the triumph

would pass like a vision of the night, and when the blossoming hedges

had showered their snows three times she would slip from her high place

and, for her sweet lord's pleasure, fall a headless corpse.

Bluff King Harry was highly pleased with the coronation show, and the

bride, radiant with bloom and happiness, held his fickle fancy for a

time. She was used to admiration, and knew the art of pleasing. Studying

the moods and tenses of her fitful master, she bent her finer nature

down to his. Did he wish to ride, she could try the mettle of his best

jennet, her glossy brown hair mingling with the floating plumes of her

hat, making a sunlit picture. Would his Majesty walk, in banquet-hall or

bower, on greensward or under silken pavilion, she was ready to trip

with fairy tread. Did he want music, she charmed with lute and song. If

the stormy ruler preferred silence, she could sit still as chiselled

marble till his varying temper brought her lord to her side again.

Her study was difficult, for absolute power makes tyrants, and the King

subdued to his humor every one about him. No man ever ventured to ask

why do you so. He varied court gayeties, and maintained them also, by

plundering churches and abbeys; and burning at slow fires sainted men as

high above him as the heavens are above the earth, because they presumed

to differ from him in opinion of the body and blood of Christ. He grew

meaner and more cruel every day, fattened and bloated into a hateful

beast, and to this most Christian King belongs the fame of being the

first to torture women with machines made expressly to grind and twist

human bones. In London Tower to-day you may see these infernal devices,

and the rack where an undaunted woman was stretched till the tormentor

refused to turn the wheels again; then she was carried in a chair to a

fire and burned alive.

And this was free and merry England three hundred years ago!

Where were the people?

The strangest part of history is their submission to bloody despotism.

The time was rich in heroes--nobles come of generations born to command,

who had looked death in the face on land and sea, and knew no fear; they

were as silent slaves. Thoughtful men grown gray in the service of the

state were tortured, maimed, and crippled. The princely Buckingham was

sent to the block, and gallant chiefs and captains were racked for

heresy, and the pleasure of the King was the pain of dying men.

It was not the oppression of an army or a mob of enraged persecutors, as

in France two centuries later, but a one-man power, a Tudor reign of

terror. So the years went by, and King Henry went on fattening till he

could hardly see.

It was written of him a generation afterward: "If all the patterns of a

merciless tyrant had been lost to the world, they might have been found

in this Prince." Royal blood was precious in those evil days; all below

the highest were mere worms. The court poet wrote verses that made Henry

the brightest star of a constellation composed of Hector, Cæsar, Judas

Maccabæus, Joshua, Charlemagne, King Arthur, Alexander, David, Godfrey

de Bouillon; and the satisfied monarch believed whatever was said or

sung in his praise, and loaded minstrel and troubadour with costly

presents, jewelled badges, and decorations.

HOW MAGIC IS MADE.

BY HENRY HATTON.

III.

There is no trick that makes a better impression on an audience, and

requires less practice on the part of the performer, than that known as

"The Protean Pitcher."

The performer has on his table an ordinary quart pitcher filled with

water, and a dozen or more tumblers. To prove that it is pure water, a

glass is filled and offered to the audience, and the performer drinks of

it.

All suspicion being thus set at rest, the trick is begun by alternately

filling with water and wine the glasses, which stand in a row at the

front of the table.

"This may seem strange," says the performer, "that I can pour from this

pitcher, which certainly is not prepared in any way, water or wine at

pleasure. The fact is, however, that when once the fumes of the wine

have thoroughly permeated the atmosphere, it is a difficult matter for

the ordinary spectator to tell positively what I _do_ pour out. No doubt

many of you imagine that I have filled these glasses with water and

wine, while others are just as positive that there is nothing but wine.

The pitcher is empty, nothing in it, as all can see. Let us pour the

contents of the glasses back." Here he empties the water and wine into

the pitcher. "And now what have we? Wine, wine, wine--nothing but wine."

Filling the glasses again. "Again return it to the pitcher"--which he

does, "and this time, on refilling the glasses, there seems to be

nothing but water. No, I am wrong, for here is a glass of wine."

For a third time he returns the contents of the glasses to the pitcher,

and this time pours out nothing but wine, and finally, for a fourth

time, goes through the same routine, and ends the trick by pouring

water, water--nothing but water.

Let us suppose that sixteen glasses are to be used in the trick. Six are

left clean; in each of six others is put one drop of a strong tincture

of iron about half an hour before beginning the performance. Two other

glasses are about half filled with a saturated solution of oxalic acid

in water, and in still another glass is poured some strong ammonia. To

prevent the fumes of the ammonia from escaping into the room this glass

must be covered with a handkerchief folded several times, or, what is

still better, with a piece of transparent mica cut to fit the top.

Lastly a glass is quarter filled, with a saturated solution of tannin in

water. Beginning with a clean glass, the six clean glasses and the six

containing the iron are placed alternately in a row at the front of the

table. Behind them, in the following order, stand the tannin glass, an

acid glass, the ammonia glass, and the second acid glass.

The performer begins by filling a clean glass and the tannin glass with

water from the pitcher. The clean glass he offers to the audience to

taste, or sips of it himself. Then he pours the contents of both glasses

into the pitcher.

Now if he fills the clean glasses and the iron glasses from the pitcher,

they will appear to be filled alternately with water and wine. Pouring

the contents back and immediately refilling the glasses, they are all

filled with wine.

Before filling the twelfth glass, however, the performer picks up an

acid glass, covering it with his hand so as to conceal its contents,

and, filling it, remarks: "All wine. No, here is water, and here

again"--filling the twelfth glass--"is wine."

When the contents of the glasses are poured into the pitcher this time,

the action of the acid will bleach the solution completely, and on

filling the glasses this time there appears to be nothing but water.

Again, however, the performer picks up another glass, the one with the

ammonia, and filling this, it appears to contain wine, but of a lighter

color than before.

This time, on emptying the glasses into the pitcher, it will appear to

be filled again with wine, the ammonia counteracting the effect of the

acid.

Once more the glasses are filled with wine, all but one, the second acid

glass, which the performer has filled.

For the last time the pitcher is again filled, and when the contents are

poured out there is nothing but water. "For," as the performer remarks,

"having begun with water, it is only right we should end with it."

As the strength of the various ingredients varies a great deal, the

amateur will do well to experiment for the proper proportions of tannin,

acid, and ammonia before attempting to exhibit the trick, bearing in

mind that the smaller the quantity used the better it will be.

Mr. Kellar, who is rather an exhibitor of stage illusions than a

sleight-of-hand performer, since his "feats of prestidigitation," to

quote the language of the show-bill, are of the most simple character,

has made quite a name by offering what he is pleased to call "mental

phenomena." In one of the most surprising of these he almost instantly

tells the day of the week on which any date of the present century

falls.

An attempt to explain this has been made by a certain magazine, which

seriously informs its readers that "the secret 'of the how' is neither a

remarkable 'gift,' nor surprising mental or mathematical ability, as is

usually supposed.

"The performer holds concealed in his hands tablets on which formulas

are engraved, or they may be written on his shirt cuffs. He raises a

hand to his head, as though meditating, and can thus, unnoticed, glance

over the tabulated formulas. Or he stands before the audience with

folded arms, coat sleeves drawn well back, which gives ample opportunity

for a quick yet careful glance at the unpretending cuffs; but instead of

gazing at the floor in deep thought, as is commonly supposed, he is

studying the formula dexterously concealed from the audience."

All this sounds very learned, but as there are no less than six tables

given as absolutely necessary for the accomplishment of the trick--one

of them of thirty-one lines and eight columns--the performer who should

attempt it on that plan would require, instead of eyes, what Sam Weller

calls "a pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of

hextra power."

I know of three different short methods of arriving at this calculation,

by which any one with a fair memory and an elementary knowledge of

mental arithmetic can answer almost instantly the question, On what day

of the week does a certain date fall? The easiest and best of these is

as follows: First memorize the following couplet:

1 2 3 4 5 6

Time Flies Fast Men Wisely Say;

(Tuesday) (Friday) (Friday) (Monday) (Wednesday) (Saturday)

7 8 9 10 11 12

Many Think, Alas, Time's Fooled Away.

(Monday) (Thursday) (Sunday) (Tuesday) (Friday) (Sunday)

These twelve words stand for the twelve months of the year, while their

initial letter or letters represent the days of the week, as shown by

the lines in parentheses, Sunday being represented by A.

To find out the day of the week on which a certain date falls _in a

leap-year_, take half of the last two figures of the given year, divide

by 7, and the _remainder_ gives the date. For example, 1880: The half is

40; divided by 7, equals 5, with 5 remaining. Therefore, March 5th would

fall on a Friday; June 5th on a Saturday; September 5th on a Sunday; and

so on. To get the other dates is a matter of simple addition.

According to this, January 5th would be Tuesday, and February 5th

Friday, but _in leap-year_ the remainder must be increased one;

therefore January 6th would be Tuesday, and February 6th Friday.

_In non-leap-years_, take the previous leap-year, and subtract _one_

for each year past that leap-year. For example: Let us suppose that some

one asks on what day of the week July 29, 1895, fell. The previous

leap-year was 1892; the half of 92 equals 46; subtract one for each year

past--_i.e._, 3--which would be 43; this, divided by 7, would leave a

remainder of 1. So that July 1st fell on a Monday, and adding 28 days,

four full weeks, gives us Monday, which your calendar will show you is

right.

If in dividing the last two numbers of the given year there should be no

remainder, the date is 7.

"But how are we to know the leap-years, without stopping to figure them

out?" some one may ask.

Very easily, if you will bear in mind that in the years having the _odd

decades_, such as 50s, 70s, 90s, the leap-years end in 2 or in 6, as

1852, 1876; while those with _even decades_ end in 0, 4, or 8.

With very little practice any bright boy or girl can soon master this,

and while it will tend to surprise their friends, it will prove

excellent mental exercise.

Mr. Kellar has recently exhibited what he terms "Karmos." In its

original form this trick, an imported one, as are most of the tricks he

exhibits, was really very ingenious and baffling, though a little

_slow_. To overcome this objectionable feature Kellar put on his

thinking-cap, or had some other fellow to cudgel his brains, and the

result was the following:

Mrs. Kellar sits blindfolded on a platform erected on the stage, and

gives the cube and square roots of numbers chosen or designated by the

audience, but apparently unknown to her. These Mr. Kellar writes on a

blackboard set up at one side of the stage in full view of the audience.

The lady also tells the names of cards dealt off from a thoroughly

shuffled pack, spells out the word selected from a dictionary and gives

its definition, reads a check held up against the blackboard, tells its

amount, and the name of the one who drew it.

There is no hesitation, no mistakes, and the answers and descriptions

are given with the greatest rapidity.

How is it done? The lady certainly cannot see, and the quickness with

which the answers are given preclude the idea that Kellar conveys the

information by such signals as walking in a certain way, tapping the

blackboard, etc.

The method is so simple that many of "the profession" consider it

inartistic, but the public seems to like it.

Every one who has attended a magical entertainment will have seen a

narrow platform extending from the stage to the auditorium, by means of

which the performer passes to and from the audience.

This platform is known technically as a _run_ or _slip-stage_. With Sir

Kellar this _run_ crosses the footlights and goes over a short distance

on the stage, where it is slightly elevated, and is boxed in at the

sides. A hole is cut in the stage, and through this hole, shielded from

view by the _run_, sits Mr. Kellar's assistant. With the help of an

ordinary opera-glass he can see everything that is written on the

blackboard or is placed against it, and by a simple mechanical means,

either of a speaking-tube leading under the stage from his hiding-place

to the back of Mrs. Kellar's chair, or some similar arrangement, he can

at once convey to her the needed information. If the cube root or square

root of any number is asked for, he has merely to turn to some such work

as _Haswell's Engineer's Companion_ to find the answer; should a word be

selected from the dictionary, he refers to a second copy of the

dictionary, which he has at hand, apply his mouth to the speaking-tube,

and Mrs. Kellar answers:

"The ninth word in the second column on the steen-hundredth page is

_vicarious_, and the definition is, 'acting, performing, or suffering

for another.'"

Let us hope this word may never be selected, as it would be too

suggestive.

The reader will understand that there is scarcely a limit to what Mrs.

Kellar (? or the assistant) can tell.

As this trick is not practicable for the drawing-room, let me give one

that my young friends will be able to accomplish. For the want of a

better name I will call it "The Flying Watch."

A watch is borrowed, and to prove that it is not obtained from a

confederate, one of the audience is allowed to select paper of such

color as he may prefer in which to have it wrapped, and another to

choose the ribbon with which the package is to be tied. The packet is

then placed in a handkerchief and handed to some one to hold. At word of

command the watch leaves the handkerchief, and is found in the innermost

box of a nest of three boxes, each of which is tied with tape and

sealed.

For this trick are needed: 1. A large handkerchief with a cheap watch

sewn in a sort of pocket at one corner. This pocket must be sewn

carefully and strongly on all sides so that the watch cannot slip out.

2. A nest of three small plain boxes, each a trifle larger than the

other, and the smallest of a size to easily hold a watch--that is, about

3-1/2 in. long, by 3 in. wide, by 2 in. high.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

This smallest box is most conspicuously nailed, see Fig. 1, but on one

side the two top nails are mere dummies, not going through, all but the

heads being cut off. The two bottom nails are short, and can easily be

pulled partly out, while the two centre ones act as pivots on which the

side swings, as shown in Fig. 2. This box is filled loosely with some

wool. The lid is put down, the bottom nails of the loose side are pulled

partly out, the top is pressed in, when the side will open at the

bottom. A wad of paper is put in to prevent it closing, other wads are

put at the sides so that the loose nails may not be accidentally pushed

in, and finally the box is bound with tape and sealed.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.]

This box is placed, with the open side uppermost, in No. 2, in which it

loosely fits, and that one is closed, bound up, and sealed. It, in turn,

is placed in No. 3, which is also bound with tapes and sealed. The whole

package, which somewhat resembles Fig. 3, is stood on a table before

beginning the trick.

When the borrowed watch has been wrapped in red, white, or blue

tissue-paper, as the audience may select, and bound with a colored

ribbon, also chosen, the performer pretends to wrap it in the

handkerchief, but really folds the handkerchief around the prepared

corner, and gives it to some one to hold. The borrowed watch he slips

into a pocket which he has sewed to the back of the right leg of his

trousers in such place that his hand can readily reach it.

As the dummy watch is ticking, the one who holds the handkerchief will

not suspect anything. The performer, approaching him, catches hold of

the handkerchief and gives it a shake. "Go!" he cries, and as nothing

falls to the floor, the watch is supposed to have vanished.

The sealed box is now shown, and some one is asked to cut the tapes. The

second box is taken out, and as it is securely bound, everything appears

right. Now comes the critical part. The performer takes the two boxes to

his table, and while going there gets hold of the watch with his right

hand, and sets it on the table back of the larger box, which conceals

it. The second box he places on top of the first, cuts the tapes of No.

2, and as he throws back the lid, lifts the watch with his right hand,

and at almost the same moment drops it into the open side of the

smallest box. To lift this box out, and at the same time to press the

bottom nails into place is easy. The box can now be shown, the tapes

cut, and the watch returned to be identified by the owner.

THE POLE VAULT.

From Instantaneous Photographs of C. T. Buchholz, Inter-collegiate

Champion.

[Illustration: 1.]

[Illustration: 2.]

[Illustration: 3.]

[Illustration: 4.]

[Illustration: 5.]

[Illustration: 6.]

[Illustration: 7.]

[Illustration: 8.]

[Illustration: 9.]

[Illustration: 10.]

[Illustration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]

Training for pole-vaulting should begin in the gymnasium early in the

winter. The arm and chest and dorsal muscles are the ones that must be

developed, and these may best be strengthened by work on the chest

weights, rope-climbing, dipping on the parallel bars, and by using the

travelling parallels. If you have no gymnasium to work in, a good

exercise is to stand four or five feet off from the wall of your room,

and to fall forward on your hands, and then push yourself back into an

erect position. Do this a few times at first, increasing the number as

you grow stronger. Sprinting is also as necessary an exercise for the

pole vaulter as it is for the broad jumper. When the weather moderates,

work should be begun and continued daily out-of-doors.

For practice the vaulter must have two square posts similar to those

used by the high jumpers, only higher, bored with holes two inches apart

above six feet, then one inch apart up to eight feet, and half an inch

apart from there up. The pegs should be between two and three inches

long, and the bar, of one-inch pine, should be about eleven feet long. I

say the "bar," but it were better to say the "bars," for the vaulter

will do well to buy a dozen at a time, as they break very easily.

The posts are placed ten feet apart at the end of the runway, which

should be from eight to ten feet wide, and as long as possible, say

fifty feet. Like the high-jumping and broad-jumping runways, it is made

of cinders rolled down hard, and must be kept well dampened so that it

may be springy. Beyond the posts the earth should be turned over and

raked, so as to make a soft landing-place. This landing-box is usually

divided from the cinder path by a board sunk into the ground running

perpendicular to the upright posts, and across their bases.

The costume for a pole-vaulter should consist of an entire jersey suit,

although many of the best men of late seem to prefer linen trousers. The

advantage of jersey trousers, or tights, however, is that they keep the

legs warm, and consequently the muscles more limber. The shoes are the

regular jumping shoes--made of kangaroo-skin, and fitted with six spikes

in the toes, and two spikes in the heel of the foot that takes off.

These two spikes should be fixed at the extremities of a diagonal drawn

through the centre of the heel, to prevent stone-bruising.

The best vaulting poles are made of selected, straight-grained spruce,

and are somewhat expensive, on account of the number of sticks that have

to be destroyed in the making of one good one. A good pole costs from $4

to $5. It should be sixteen feet long, and fitted with an iron spike at

the lower end. Having purchased your pole, wind it with tape for a

distance of three or four feet along that part where it is to be held by

the hands in vaulting.

When you first begin to vault, it is best to place the bar at about six

feet, and to work over this height until you have mastered the knack of

the event, which is undeniably a complicated one. As in high and broad

jumping, the athlete must lay out his take-off and his run. No rule can

be set down for either of these things. Some vaulters like a long run,

and depend entirely upon speed to carry them over the bar, while others

take a short sprint, and throw all their force and energy into the leap.

But whichever method is adopted, both the take-off and the

starting-point remain fixed spots on the runway, and must be

experimented with until found, and then carefully fixed.

Whether in practice or in competition, and no matter what height the bar

may be, _always_ measure your pole before vaulting. This is done by

stepping up to the posts and holding the pole upright until it touches

the bar. Let it fall back then, and grasp it with the lower hand one

foot below the point where it touched the cross-piece. For a vaulter who

takes off with the left foot, the lower hand is the left hand. For a man

who takes off with the right foot, it is just the other way. For the

sake of convenience and clearness, let us understand that we are now

speaking of one who takes off with the left foot.

[Illustration: THE PHILADELPHIA INTERSCHOLASTIC RELAY RACES.

End of Second Relay in Pennington-Hill-Brown-York Race.]

Having measured the pole, the athlete seizes it with both hands, thumbs

up, the left hand forward at the spot indicated, and the right hand from

two and a half to three feet further up. He then retreats to the spot

which he has determined upon as his starting-point. He stands in the

middle of the runway, with the pole pointing straight at the uprights,

and he fixes his eyes on the bar. From this moment he does not remove

his gaze from that pine stick, or from the handkerchief which may be

hanging from it, until he has made his leap. He should never look to see

where he is placing the pole to vault, for this will interfere with the

success of his leap. The pole will take care of itself.

For going down the runway with the pole styles differ. Some vaulters

hold the pole well up over the chest, while others (like Mr. Buchholz in

the accompanying illustrations) hold the pole well down. The novice will

find it better to keep his right or higher hand well up under his head.

The athlete starts down the runway at full speed, and when he reaches

his take-off he plants the pole firmly into the ground with all his

force, and springs straight for the cross-piece. The moment his body

leaves the ground, the right arm stretches taut (illustration No. 4),

and his body swings towards the pole.

The motion of the body as it rises is a turning one, the object being to

twist and face the pole, so that when the proper height is reached the

back will be towards the bar, that the heels may be lifted over. The

fifth illustration shows the vaulter half-way up from the ground to the

bar, which in this case was placed at nine feet. He has turned half

around, and by the time he has nearly reached this height he is still

further around. Illustration No. 6 shows the beginning of the working of

the arms and of that twist which is so necessary to carry the body over

at great heights. The working of the arms begins just before this twist

is made, and consists of pulling with the right arm, and pushing with

the left. This lifts the body, and the twist carries it over, together

with a strong push against the pole at the last moment, when the athlete

feels his upward motion is changing to a fall.

After the pole has been let go, all is plain sailing. You have either

made your vault or you have not, and all you have to do is to fall free,

or bring down the bar with you. No effort that the athlete can now make

to avoid the bar will avail him, as the motion in mid-air is practically

uncontrollable after the pole has been abandoned. It is easy to learn

how to fall limp into the soft earth below, and there is never any

danger attending this drop. It will be noticed in the illustration that

the twisting motion imparted on the hither side of the bar turns the

body so that the athlete falls with his back to the posts, having

performed one complete gyration in mid-air. This is not by any means a

necessary element of the event, however, for many men drop facing the

runway.

It is not permissible in vaulting in America to move the upper hand on

the pole. The lower hand may be brought up, and Hoyt, the Harvard

athlete who won the vault at the Olympic games of 1895, usually does

this. In England, "climbing the pole" is allowed, and athletes there

frequently bring the lower hand up above the other. Some of them manage

to make better records by this method too.

When training for this event the novice should not vault oftener than

fifteen times a day, and he should never work with the pole more

frequently than three times a week. On the intervening days he should do

light work at sprinting. Take every height three times, and then raise

the bar, for it is frequently possible for a man to clear a higher mark

after failing at the point below. On one day each week try to see how

high you can go.

Speaking of pole-vaulting, it is encouraging to record that at the

Drisler games, a week ago Saturday, both Hurlburt of Berkeley and

Paulding of Black Hall, Connecticut, broke the New York scholastic

record for the pole vault. This was 9 ft. 10 in.; but on this occasion

Hurlburt cleared 10 ft. 6 in., and Paulding took second with 10 ft. 4

in. Hipple lowered Meehan's scholastic record in the half-mile from 2

min. 9 sec. to 2 min. 7-4/5 sec. These were the only notable

performances, except, perhaps, Moore's time of 10-2/5 sec. in the 100,

which deserves mention. The Berkeley team carried off the honors of the

day in points--an achievement which is somewhat prophetic for the

Interscholastics next week.

Of the fifteen relay races held on Franklin Field, Saturday, April 25th,

seven were competed in by scholastic runners. The contests were

exciting, but not so much so as they would have been if the school

athletes had been in any kind of condition. Hardly any of the runners

were fit, and over half a dozen fainted outright at the relay mark. Many

staggered along the last fifteen or twenty yards, as though they could

barely lift one foot ahead of the other, plainly showing that they had

not made proper preparation for the kind of work they were attempting to

perform.

The races in their order, and the time made in each case, are given here

for the sake of record:

First Race--Won by Adelphi Academy; second, De Lancey; third,

Episcopal; fourth, Hamilton School. Time, 3 m. 49 sec.

Third Race--Won by Wilmington High-School; second, Norristown

High-School; third, Camden High-School. Time, 3 m. 58-2/5 sec.

Fifth Race--Won by Friends' Central; second, Haverford Grammar

School; third, Swarthmore Grammar; fourth, Cheltenham. Time, 3m. 54

sec.

Seventh Race--Won by Pennington; second, Hill School; third, Brown

Preparatory; fourth, York Collegiate. Time, 3 m. 50-4/5 sec.

Ninth Race--Won by Germantown Academy; second, Penn Charter; third,

Abington Friends' Central; fourth, Eastburn Academy. Time, 3 m.

50-1/5 sec.

Eleventh Race--Won by West Chester Normal School; second, South

Jersey Institute; third, Drexel Institute; fourth, Temple College.

Time, 3 m. 55-2/5 sec.

Thirteenth Race--Won by Central High-School; second, Roman Catholic

High-School; third, Manual Training School. Time, 3 m. 44-1/5 sec.

The Adelphi team had an easy time of it for first place, the real

contest being among the three other schools. A hot struggle was that

between the Hill School and Pennington, in which the latter won. Kiefer,

who ran the last lap for the Hill, had twenty yards to kill to get even

with his opponent. He made a pretty fight, but Finnegan was too much for

him, and defeated him in the last ten yards. In the ninth race

Germantown met its old rival, Penn Charter, and took it into camp.

Eastburn Academy took the lead at first, beating Penn Charter by three

yards on the lap, with Germantown, Abington, and Friends' School puffing

along in that order. But Eastburn's second man lost the advantage won,

and soon dropped to the rear. Germantown then passed Penn Charter,

finished first in the second relay, and kept the lead to the end. The

last race--that between Central High, Catholic High, and Manual

Training--was uninteresting, all three schools maintaining the order

given from start to finish.

ACADEMIC ATHLETIC LEAGUE'S FIELD DAY, BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA, APRIL 18,

1896.

Event. Winner. Performance.

100-yard dash Drum, L.H.-S. 11 sec.

220-yard dash Drum, L.H.-S. 24-2/5 "

440-yard dash Woolsey, B.H.-S. 56-1/5 "

Half-mile run Shaw, L.H.-S. 2 m. 12-4/5 "

Mile run Cutler, L.H.-S. 5 " 7-1/4 "

120-yard hurdles Cheek, O.H.-S. 17-4/5 "

220-yard hurdles Warnick, B.H.-S. 29-1/5 "

Running high jump Hoffmann, O.H.-S. 5 ft. 5 in.

Running broad jump Parker, B.H.-S. 20 " 7 "

Pole vault Hoffmann, O.H.-S. 10 "

Throwing 16-lb. hammer Smith, Hoitt's. 103 " 10-1/2 "

Putting 16-lb. shot Cheek, O.H.-S. 37 " 5-1/4 "

Relay race, one mile Berkeley. 3 m. 31 sec.

Event. Second. Third.

100-yard dash Lippman, Hoitt's. Jenks, O.H.-S.

220-yard dash Jenks, O.H.-S. Switzer, St. M.

440-yard dash Osborn, St. M. Smith, P.H.-S.

Half-mile run Steele, O.H.-S. Manley, St. M.

Mile run Haseltine, B.H.-S. Smith, O.H.-S.

120-yard hurdles Colby, B.H.-S. ---------

220-yard hurdles Dawson, O.H.-S. Parker, B.H.-S.

Running high jump Grant, P.H.-S. Man, P.H.-S.

Running broad jump Cheek, O.H.-S. Simonds, B.H.-S.

Pole vault Cheek, O.H.-S. Woolsey, B.H.-S.

Throwing 16-lb. hammer Lynch, O.H.-S. Johnson, St. M.

Putting 16-lb. shot Woolsey, B.H.-S. Goodale, B.H.-S.

Relay race, one mile Lowell. Oakland.

Points.

Oakland High-School 42

Berkeley High-School 38

Lowell High-School 26

Hoitt's 8

St. Matthew's 6

Polytechnic High-School 5

---

Total 125

N.B.--The odd point in the 120-yard hurdles was left unscored, there

being but three men in the race, and one of them, Dawson, O.H.-S., being

disqualified.

O.H.-S., Oakland High-School; B.H.-S., Berkeley High-School; L.H.-S.,

Lowell High-School of San Francisco; P.H.-S., Polytechnic High-School of

San Francisco; St. M., St. Matthew's School; Hoitt's, Hoitt's School.

The Spring Field Day of the Academic Athletic League of the Pacific

Coast was held on the University of California track at Berkeley,

Saturday, April 18th, with the results as shown on the preceding page.

It was a bad day for track sports--cold, and eventually rainy, with a

cross wind that brought no help to the racers. Nevertheless, the

performances were noteworthy in several cases, and a glance at last

year's record of the California schools' games will show that the

tendency of the records is downwards. Drum took the 100 after a hot

fight with Jenks, and also scored a win in the 220. Jenks had been

looked upon as a pretty sure winner for the longer sprint, having

equalled the Coast record in his heat; but Drum was too much for him,

and Switzer came near cheating him out of second honors. These two

defeats seemed to discourage the O.H.-S. man, for although entered he

did not compete in the quarter. This race went to Woolsey, who got his

points through heroic treatment of his distance. He wanted to save

himself for the relay, and yet take the quarter too, which he felt

confident he could do, having covered the distance in 54-1/2 sec. So he

set a hot pace from the start, covering the first 220 in 25-1/5. The

field followed close, but the pace killed them, and Woolsey came home in

the excellent time of 56-1/5 sec. The A.A.L. record is only 1/5 sec.

lower.

Steele, O.H.-S., had trained to run his first quarter of the half-mile

in 60 sec., counting on these tactics to slaughter the rest. But the

bunch fastened on, and at the end of the second lap Shaw of Lowell

showed unexpected endurance and crept ahead. He and Steele then ran

within a yard of one another to the tape, which Shaw breasted first in 2

m. 12-4/5 sec. There was a big field for the mile run, and a remarkably

tight one. At the end of the third lap Haseltine hit up the pace, but

Cutler of Lowell was good for it, and rushed in a winner. Dawson was

unfortunate in the hurdles. Some one has taught him a bad trick in

practice--to run around an obstacle after knocking the previous one or

losing his stride--and he suffered for it. He knocked the top bar off

the eighth hurdle, played his trick of dodging the ninth, took the

tenth, and beat Cheek to the tape. Of course he was disqualified, but as

an O.H.-S. man won, his error was of less consequence than it might have

been. It is always better to work in practice just as the rules require

that you work in competition. Then you have an advantage over the other

man.

In the high jump Grant, P. H.-S., proved a surprise. His form is

wretched, but he has springs in his feet. He tied with Hoffmann for

first place, and lost the honor on the toss. Cheek could have done

better in the shot after he won it, in going for a record, but forbore

on account of his other events. The hammer throw was somewhat

complicated by the failure of the judges to mark accurately Lynch's

sixth and last throw. The least they could give him was the 102 ft. 9

in., but to make the thing square all three were allowed a seventh

throw. Smith and Johnson did not improve their marks, but Lynch threw

109 ft. In doing so, however, he fouled by overstepping an inch, and the

event went to Smith of Hoitt's.

In the relay race the Berkeley team led all the way, and won in 3 min.

31 sec., which is within 10 seconds of the Pacific Coast record, made by

U. of C. in 1894. Drum did the best work for O.H.-S., but his mates were

not in condition, and the event was lost to them.

Every school that competed at the meeting scored. This fact is

especially creditable for Polytechnic H.-S., St. Matthew's, and Hoitt's,

all being new members of the A.A.L., and not so seasoned in athletics as

some of the other schools. Their teams give good promise, and if they

keep on as they have begun, Oakland and Berkeley will have to look

sharp!

The Princeton Interscholastic tennis tournament was not held last

Saturday, as had been announced. The date was considered too early in

the season, none of the school players having yet had sufficient time to

get into tournament form. The date now proposed is May 23d.

GEORGE W. ROLLINS, BOSTON, MASS.--The best kind of training for a

ten-mile bicycle race is to take short spins of a mile or two at

speed on a track, and long rides of from fifteen to eighteen miles

on the road, on alternate days, for two or three weeks previous to

the date of the race. If you can ascertain what road the race is to

be run over, it is well to become as familiar with it as possible;

but do not try to ride the distance on time more frequently than

once in ten days.

F. J. CHAPMAN, NEW RICHMOND, WIS.--See answer above for your

question on training. Cold baths are good, if you rub down well

afterward. Never continue exercising when you begin to feel the

slightest fatigue. It is not well to go to bed immediately after

exercising; and it is better to run early in the morning rather

than in the evening.

THE GRADUATE.

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Constable & Co

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FOR THE CHILDREN.

Impure food that may not seriously affect the stronger digestive organs

of an adult will frequently cause serious illness in a child. A child's

food is largely cakes and bread, and these things when light, sweet, and

composed of materials free from deleterious substances are easily

digested, nutritious, and wholesome. But there is a danger to children

too liable to be lost sight of. If their bread and cake are risen with

alum baking powders they are not healthful, but will produce serious

digestive disturbances. Mothers are liable to overlook this fact, and

because such food may not produce immediate ill results with the adult,

give it to the children unmindful of their greater susceptibility to

harm. Professor Willard Parker, United States Surgeon-General Hammond,

Professor Alonzo Clark, and other eminent physicians have spoken most

earnestly of the evils arising from food made with these alum baking

powders.

The makers of the Royal Baking Powder are entitled to the thanks of

every mother in the land, because of the better food it insures. The

physicians tell us that its use in biscuit and cake really adds to the

healthfulness of these articles. We have known some of the best doctors

to prescribe Royal Baking Powder as a remedy for digestive disturbances

who, when asked why they did it, replied: "Because this is about the

only form in which we can get chemically pure cream of tartar and

bi-carbonate of soda."

Mothers should take a hint from this, and use as much care in the choice

of a baking powder as in obtaining pure milk, or in having a

prescription compounded from pure drugs.--_Mothers' Magazine._

_On Bosworth Field_

_King Richard cried:_

_"My kingdom for a horse!"_

_But times have changed--_

_To-day he'd want_

_A Monarch wheel, of course._

MONARCH

KING OF BICYCLES

and a wheel fit for a king. Made in 4 models, $80 and $100. For children

and adults who want a lower price wheel the _Defiance_ is made in 8

models, $40 to $75. Send for Monarch book.

[Illustration]

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[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

[Illustration: BICYCLING]

The Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject.

Our maps ind tours contain much valuable data kindly supplied from

the official maps and road-books of the League of American

Wheelmen. Recognizing the value of the work being done by the

L. A. W., the Editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with

membership blanks and information so far as possible.

So many inquiries have been received of late asking information

regarding bicycling in Europe, that it will prove more satisfactory to

answer these in a general way in this Department than to attempt to give

specific replies to each writer. The usual question which presents

itself is the one of expense. How cheaply can a person make a trip from

New York to England by steamer, ride through England for a month, and

return? Many a boy and girl has the time in school or college vacation

to take this trip if it could be done at a reasonable figure. Crossing

the ocean is now a much cheaper, quicker, and easier matter than it used

to be. There are very comfortable cattle-steamers leaving New York for

London which make the trip in ten or twelve days, and which carry

perhaps twenty-five passengers. The accommodations are very good, and it

is a perfectly feasible method of crossing the ocean. The fare on these

steamers, first-class, ranges from $40 up. On the regular passenger

steamers it is quite proper, and does not involve a loss of dignity, for

school-boys or college men to cross second-class, which ranges from $35

up. You can see, then, that so far as going from America to England is

concerned not much expense is involved; $60 to $70 will procure the

round-trip passage, which will occupy about sixteen to twenty days. On

the other side the travelling expenses with a wheel may be made almost

anything the individual chooses to make them. One wheelman will ride

from city to city, stopping at large hotels in each city, spending

several days there, and going to theatres and places of amusement.

Another will stop at the inns through the midland counties of England,

ride through the cities, and stop at hotels in Scotland. A third will

invariably try some farmer or shepherd's cottage, there ask to be taken

in overnight, and will only enter public-houses when he comes to some

such famous hostelry as the Swan Inn near Therlmere. These are only

three grades of travellers, and where the first will average from $10 to

$20 a day, the third will probably do it on the average of not more than

$1 a day.

Let us take up the question of English wheeling this week, and the

French side of bicycling next week. To bicycle through England certain

simple facts should be borne in mind. In the first place, do not take a

steamer for Liverpool. Sail from New York or Boston by a steamer that

stops at Southampton, and begin your trip through England from

Southampton itself. If you go to Liverpool, there will be some

difficulty in getting out of Liverpool itself, and the country

immediately around Liverpool is not so attractive as that around

Southampton. Starting from Southampton, then, cross to Isle of Wight and

ride through Newport and Ryde, going even so far as St. Catharine's

Point. Returning to the mainland, it may be said that any route you may

lay out will lead you through beautiful country of fine roads, and

suitable places for stopping at every mile. One good ride is through

Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall to Land's End. But the chief route, and the

best one probably if it is your first in England, is to run from

Southampton through Winchester, Aldershot, and thence across a corner of

Surrey to London. From London, following the Thames, out through

Windsor, Henley, Abingdon, to Oxford; thence to Cheltenham, and from

this point passing up through Warwickshire, circling around Birmingham

instead of going into the city, and making for Leicester. From Leicester

run straight to Derby, and then there are many routes to Chester. From

Chester the object should be to reach Windermere without passing through

too many of the great manufacturing towns. This route each man must pick

out according to his map and his own judgment.

On reaching Windermere, on the edge of Lake Windermere, move on to

Ambleside, Keswick; thence through Newmarket to Carlisle. Leaving

Carlisle, make for the Solway Firth railway bridge, cross on the

railroad train, and run up through Dumfries. From this point to Ayr

there is a very good road, and at the end of it any one who is an

admirer of Burns may study him in his home. From Ayr proceed to Glasgow

through Kilmarnock, and from Glasgow the prettiest run is through

Dumbarton up the western shore of Loch Lomond; then, following the

valley at the north end of the Loch, you will come in time to Tyndrum,

and from here it is not a long run to Oban. Here the trip may be further

extended up the Caledonian Canal, or the return trip may be made through

Stirling to Edinburgh, and thence back to London along the east coast.

Such a trip may be completed, including the journey over and back, in

from six to eight weeks, and if the method of going to private houses

wherever feasible is followed, the expense need not exceed $250.

[Illustration: THE CAMERA CLUB]

Any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly

answered by the Editor of this column, and we should be glad to

hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions.

PREPARATION OF TESTED SENSITIVE PAPERS.

NO. 4.--HOW TO MAKE GREEN TONES.

Green prints may be made by first making a red print, and then, by the

use of nitrate of cobalt, changing the red tone to a brilliant green.

The process for making red prints is fully described in No. 850 of the

ROUND TABLE, but we repeat the formula, referring the amateur to the

paper on red prints for fuller details.

Sensitize photographic paper by floating it on a solution made of 96

grs. of nitrate of uranium dissolved in 8 oz. of distilled water. Dry by

a gentle heat, and print. This is not a printing-out paper, but the

picture is brought out by development. A strong negative requires ten

minutes in bright sunlight and two hours in the shade. Remove the print

from the frame, and place at once in a dish of hot water for 30 seconds

(120° Fahr.). Drain off the water, and lay the print face up in a

toning-tray, and flood with a solution made of 40 grs. of red prussiate

of potash and 4 oz. of distilled water. Keep the tray in motion so that

all parts of the print may be equally affected by the developer. In a

few minutes the picture will begin to appear, and will develop up a

beautiful red color. Wash this print in several changes of water till no

more color runs from it and the washing water is clear.

Have ready a ten-per-cent. solution of nitrate of cobalt. Place the red

print in this without drying, leave it in for one minute, remove, and,

without washing, dry by a fire. The red print will turn to a beautiful

green; the more intense the heat used in drying the more brilliant will

be the green color. This print is not permanent, but must be made so by

immersing in a fixing solution prepared as follows:

Distilled Water 4 oz.

Sulphate of Iron 80 grs.

Sulphuric Acid 4 scruples.

Have this solution made up at the dealer in photographic supplies, as

the sulphuric acid is a dangerous acid to handle. The small quantity in

the solution will do no harm, though it is best to use rubber fingertips

when handling all known poisonous chemicals. Place the print in this

fixing solution for 30 seconds, pass it through three or four changes of

water, and dry by the fire. Landscapes printed on green tinted paper

make a pleasing change from the brown and black tones generally used.

SIR KNIGHT W. F. BLATCHLEY asks what kind of sensitized paper to

use for pictures which are to be reproduced in periodicals. Any

printing paper, with the exception of blue prints, may be used; but

the black and white tones are preferred to the reddish browns.

SIR KNIGHT LE ROY THOMPSON asks what other color beside red and

violet may be produced with nitrate of uranium. Green, blue-black,

chestnut-brown, copper color, and several other tints may be made

by different toning solutions or treatments of the print. The

processes will be described in early numbers of the ROUND TABLE.

SIR KNIGHT THOMAS S. WINSTON, Box 65, Albertville, La., says that

he has some curios, consisting of turtle shells, water moss, water

celery, wild boar's tusks, etc., and a collection of about one

thousand stamps, which he would like to exchange for a Pocket Kodak

or a Kombi Camera.

SIR KNIGHT LAWRENCE FRALEY sends the following formula for

developing bromide paper: Water (filtered), 20 oz.; carbonate of

soda, 300 grs.; sulphite of soda, 500 grs.; hydrochinon, 30 grs.;

metol, 30 grs. Sir Knight Lawrence says that he has used this

developer, and finds that one can make a much shorter exposure and

obtain clear whites and fine detail in shadows. This developer

works equally well with dry plates. Sir Lawrence has the thanks of

the club for his formula.

LESLEY ASHBURNER asks what makes prints gray; the sizes and prices

of transferrotype and bromide paper; a formula for toning solution;

and in what number it gives directions for enlargements. The reason

prints assume a gray color is because they are left too long in the

toning solution, or the toning solution is not fresh. Bromide and

transferrotype paper may be bought in any size desired; 4 by 5

costs 50 cents per dozen, and 5 by 7 costs 65 cents per dozen for

both papers. A formula for toning solution may be found in No. 825.

A formula for toning solution comes with every package of sensitive

paper, and may always be relied on to produce good results. Several

toning solutions will be given in an early number of the Camera

Club. The number giving directions for enlarging is No. 801 of the

ROUND TABLE, and the article is entitled "Bromide Enlargements."

[Illustration: STAMPS]

This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin

collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question

on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address

Editor Stamp Department.

The second type of the 5c. Baton Rouge has been seen by Mr. Deats with

the error McCcrmick.

The widespread collecting of imprints of the current issue of U.S.

stamps has led an enterprising publisher in New York to place on the

market an album for the use of collectors. Each Plate No. has a page

with spaces for all four positions of the imprint, and separate pages

are prepared for the watermarked and unwatermarked varieties.

The newspapers report the arrest, in Chicago, of a gang of

counterfeiters who have been printing counterfeit U.S. 2c. stamps by

lithographic process, in sheets containing twenty-five stamps. It is

said that large quantities of the stamps have been used. No copies have

been seen in New York as yet. Should any of the ROUND TABLE readers have

any copies of these stamps, I should be glad to see one. They are

described as bearing a smudged look.

The influence of fashion in fixing the price of stamps has been

curiously illustrated at the last large auction held in New York city.

The gems of the sale were the 1878 reprints of the U.S. stamps from 1847

to 1870, and of the periodical stamps from 2c. to 60c. These reprint

periodicals are the only copies known, and yet the price obtained for

them was an average of only $6 each. The original 9c. stamp, of which

hundreds of copies are in existence, sells for $15. The unique reprint

of the same stamp brought $10 only. The purchaser secured a great

bargain.

An old story has been going the rounds of the press lately of how a

small boy wrote to Field-Marshal Yamagata for some Japanese stamps, and

received in reply a complete set of all the Japanese stamps unused. The

story is probably true, but the sequel is not given. The success of this

boy's request was published, and as a result the Marshal was overwhelmed

by thousands of similar requests from collectors all over the world. Of

course they got nothing.

Belgium has caught the speculation fever. Designs have been invited for

stamps to be used in commemoration of the International Exhibition to be

held in 1897. Germany has filed an official protest against such stamps

by proposing the following resolution, which will be considered at the

International Postal Union Congress at Washington in May, 1897:

"Resolved, That the International Postal Union will exclude all stamps

which are not necessary for actual postal requirements, especially the

so-called Jubilee and Celebration stamps."

Sir Robert Hart, Commissioner of the Chinese Customs, has been asked by

the Emperor of China to organize a national postal system. If the

project is carried out, the many Chinese Locals will be made valueless

in the eyes of every one.

R. CRAIG.--The current 50c. U.S. cancelled is worth 10c. The old

bank bill has no value.

E. C. WOOD, Germantown, Pa., K. C. GIBSON, Morrisburg, Ont., wish

to exchange U. S. and Canada stamps.

W. C. A.--The rarest U.S. cents are 1793, Liberty Cap, $7.50; 1799

over 98, $7.50; 1799, perfect date, $10.

C. F. PHILIP.--Values of sets of U.S. Departments in unused "mint"

condition, are, State, $287; Executive, $49; Navy, $40;

Agriculture, $27.65; Treasury, $12; War, $4.50; Post-office, $4.50;

Justice, $110; Interior, $4.50. Used sets are not worth as much,

and damaged sets are materially less in value. The loss of a single

perforation, or uneven centering, will affect some of the stamps

from ten per cent. to thirty per cent. in value.

J. H. BROWN.--There are two varieties of the 1860 silver 5c. piece.

The one bearing the figure of Liberty with "United States of

America" around it is common. The one with Liberty surrounded by

stars in place of "United States of America" is rare. Dealers

charge $5 for a good copy of the rare stamp, 10c. for the common

one.

J. S. POPPER.--I do not know what album you have, nor can I say

whether your stamp is genuine or counterfeit, as I have not seen

it. The New York 5c. black, Washington's portrait, has a space in

all the standard albums, at the beginning of the U.S. issues. The

Saxony 10 gr. blue is worth $4. The Roman stamps are catalogued at

5c. each.

J. HALL.--The 24c. U.S. 1851, unperforated, is a very rare stamp.

An unsevered pair would be worth from $250 to $500. A single stamp

is worth $100. Unprincipled parties have taken copies of the 1856

perforated stamp with wide margins, and trimmed off the

perforations, then offering the same as unperforated.

N. C. WILBUR.--Your coin is a Columbian quarter made by the U.S.

government, and is a legal tender for face value. It is getting a

little scarce, and dealers now ask $1.25 for it.

PHILATUS.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

HOW MANY

different advertisements of

COLUMBIA

BICYCLES

HAVE YOU SEEN?

[Illustration]

The variety of Columbia Bicycle advertising is great. All the good

points of Columbias, all the delight of riding them, cannot be fully

described in any one advertisement, nor in a hundred.

We wish to know how many announcements can reach any one person, and so

offer a

COLUMBIA BICYCLE

as a

PRIZE

to whoever shall send us the greatest number of _different_ Columbia

Bicycle advertisements clipped from newspapers or magazines issued since

Jan. 1, 1896.

Many advertisements differ only in a word or two; others in the

style of type; distinct variations only, however, will be counted.

Each advertisement must have plainly attached to it the name and

date of the newspaper or magazine from which it is clipped.

Separate entries cannot be combined.

Entries must be received by us at Hartford on or before Tuesday,

June 30, 1896. In case of a tie, the award will be made according

to priority of receipt and entry. Address

Department of Statistics,

POPE MFG. CO., Hartford, Conn.

Right

KIND OF

Tires

FOR RACING

No. 75 Hartford Single Tubes--the standard racing tires, the kind

Bald rode in 1895.

FOR PLEASURE

No. 80 Hartford Single-Tubes--the standard fast road tires,

delightful, buoyant, comfortable.

[Illustration]

FOR SECURITY

No. 77 Hartford Single-Tubes--the standard tires for those who are

willing to sacrifice a little speed for greater security from

puncture. The ideal tire for tandems.

FOR ROUGH SERVICE

No. 70 Hartford Single-Tubes--the standard tires for rocky, hilly

country.

* * * * *

THE HARTFORD RUBBER WORKS CO.

HARTFORD, CONN.

NEW YORK. CHICAGO.

JOSEPH GILLOTT'S

STEEL PENS

Nos. 303, 404, 170, 604 E. F., 601 E. F.

And other styles to suit all hands.

THE MOST PERFECT OF PENS.

Postage Stamps, &c.

$117.50 WORTH OF STAMPS FREE

to agents selling stamps from my 50% approval sheets. Send at once for

circular and price-list giving full information.

C. W. Grevning, Morristown, N. J.

JAPANESE POSTAGE STAMPS!

Every one who sends me 20 unused stamps of his land will receive 20

unused stamps, in good varieties, from Japan.

Sekigyokuken, Mitsunosho, Bingo, Japan.

=LOOK HERE, BOYS!= 50 stamps and hinges, 15c; 100, 25c. Cheaper packets if

you want. Sheets on approval. List sent free. Send Postal Card.

W. C. SHIELDS, 30 Sorauren Ave., Toronto, Canada.

STAMPS! 100 all dif. Barbados, etc. Only 10c. Ag'ts w't'd at 50% com.

List free. L. DOVER & CO., 1469 Hodiamont, St. Louis, Mo.

=Stamps.= Approval sheets. Agents w't'd; 50% com.

G. D. Holt & Co., 155 Pulaski St., Brooklyn, N. Y.

=Stamps,= 105 all dif. fine S. Am., etc., 10c. Agt's w't'd, 50%. List

free. Stockbridge Stamp Co. 1219 Shawmut Pl., St. Louis, Mo.

=FINE APPROVAL SHEETS.= Agents wanted at 50% com. P. S. Chapman, Box 151,

Bridgeport, Ct.

[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

HARPER'S

ROUND TABLE

Not only is it excellent in its written text, but artists make its pages

artistically beautiful.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean_, Feb. 22, 1896.

5 CENTS A COPY--$2.00 A YEAR

HOW HECTOR SAVED THE TRAIN.

SECOND-PRIZE STORY.

BY S. O. RITTENHOUSE.

"When may I hear the story?"

"Well," replied Walter Preston, the genial station-master at Springdale,

"it happened several years ago. I could tell you many more wonderful

stories than this, concerning Hector, in which he displayed almost human

intelligence. The only remarkable thing about this story lies in the

fact that a number of human lives were placed in a position of deadly

peril, and that all were saved--not in any wonderful manner, but,

nevertheless, saved by Hector.

"When we first moved here we lived a mile down the track in the only

house near the station at that time. Hector was my only companion while

on duty, and in all these years he has never failed to accompany me,

night or day, in sunshine or in storm. He is one of the best dogs I ever

saw. I have never been able to make out his breed, but that is of small

importance to me.

"Since the company put in their new system of signals there have been

but few accidents, but before that they were of frequent occurrence.

When I came here the road had only a single track, and the

signal-station was put in as a matter of precaution, owing to the

dangers arising from the heavy grades, dangerous curves, and many deep

cuts.

"For several years I had only one man to help me. During the first month

I did all the day work, but after that we changed about, and I

frequently took the nightshift. My partner came down from C---- on the

six-o'clock train in the morning or evening as the case might be; but as

these trains were frequently two or three hours late, I often had to

send Hector home for my meals. I would tie a note to his collar, and he

would carry it to the house in a very few minutes. Wife would then put

up my lunch for me and tie it to his collar. He never failed but once in

bringing it to me safely. Then the basket came loose and fell in the

dirt; but Hector took the basket in his mouth and carried it back to the

house to be replenished.

"Being away from home from twelve to fourteen hours each day, no duties

to speak of, and only Hector for a companion, the time passed slowly

enough. Trains made no regular stop here, and when by some unusual

chance a stray passenger wished to take the train, my red flag by day or

red light at night 'hauled up' the desired train.

"One stormy evening when I was on the night shift I sat in my little den

of an office listening to the clicking of the telegraph instruments, as

the usual business passed to and fro on the wires--business in which I

took no active part. Hector lay behind the stove as you see him now,

entirely oblivious of the gale that rattled the windows and went

shrieking and howling through the upper gorge.

"For once my little office seemed cheerful, when compared with the

raging storm on the outside, and I had just settled myself before the

fire to enjoy my book when I heard the instruments calling. Answering at

once, I took my pen and copied the following message:

"'To operator at Springdale.--Special left A---- at 7.30, and by mistake

No. 12 left C---- at 7.45: both due at Springdale at 9.15. Be very sure

to stop them if possible!--Hobbs, Despatcher.'

"No. 12 was a through freight that never stopped at Springdale, and the

special contained some of the officers and stock-holders of the road,

with their families, returning from a pleasure trip. I had been watching

the progress of the special, as its orders had been flashed along the

wires, and knew that it was running at the rate of nearly a mile a

minute.

"I glanced at the clock. It was already just nine o'clock. Only about

ten minutes left in which to act. My only chance lay in hanging out my

red light for the special, and then running in the direction of the

freight, as that was coming down grade and would be hard to stop. Still,

I knew that the engineer of the special could not see my signal until he

rounded the curve, and having no orders to stop, he might disregard it

altogether.

[Illustration: "I FASTENED ONE OF THE LANTERNS TO HIS COLLAR.

Drawn by C. A. Bostrom, Winner of Third Prize in Drawing Competition.]

"Luckily, I had several red lanterns, and they were soon lighted.

Hanging up two as signals for the special, I took two more, one in each

hand, and started up the grade. But a sudden thought struck me. My home

lay in the direction from which the special was coming; so I turned back

and called to Hector. He came to me at once, and I fastened one of the

lanterns to his collar and ordered him home. He didn't like the looks of

the storm, but he started off, the lantern swinging back and forth about

six inches from the ground.

"Seeing that Hector was well started on his mission, I turned again and

started up the grade. As I beat my way as best I could against wind and

storm, I began to realise how nearly hopeless my task was. Just ahead of

me lay the great gorge, a deep cut nearly a quarter of a mile in length.

It was extremely dangerous to enter this even in the daytime, as the cut

was new, and there was little room to get out of the way of the train.

But I must risk it if I hoped to save the many precious lives; so on I

went, stumbling over the uneven ties, falling several times, but never

daring to stop even to catch my breath. I thanked Heaven when the last

rock of the cut was passed: but now the fierce gale met me stronger than

ever. Fearful of having my light blown out, and hearing the train close

at hand, I stepped aside under the shelter of a rock. As the train

rounded the curve and the headlight flashed into view I swung my lantern

vigorously, but no one seemed to notice me.

"'Gracious!' I cried, 'will they never see me?'

"The huge monster lighted up the gorge at my feet for an instant, and

then with a shriek dashed by; but that shriek meant 'down brakes.' Ah,

what a load was lifted from my heart when I heard that sound!

"By the time the way-car had passed I could see that the speed was

slackening. With the wind now at my back, I made quick time down the

grade. The two engines stood in front of the station 'nose to nose.'

They had met with sufficient force to throw all the passengers from

their seats, but no damage had been done.

"The little platform was crowded with people, passengers of the special

and trainmen, who eagerly awaited my coming. In a few words I told them

my story--how I had hung out the signals, how I had run up the track in

time to stop the freight.

"'I saw a red light swinging back and forth near the ground, about half

a mile back,' said the engineer of the special. 'I only caught a glimpse

of it as we rushed by, but I slowed up; then when I saw the red light at

the station I whistled for brakes at once, and, coming to a stop, I saw

the headlight of the freight just in time to back up enough to escape

disaster.'

"'What was the light you first saw?' was asked.

"As if in answer Hector just then appeared from behind the passenger

train, the lantern swinging back and forth in front of him. It was the

first time he had ever failed to go home when I sent him, but he

evidently knew that his mission was fulfilled. He was at once the centre

of an excited crowd, and I am sure he received enough attention that

night to spoil any dog.

"It was only a few days before I received a check for a large sum, a

present from the company, together with the notice that Hector had been

put on the company's pay-roll at fifty dollars per month. I was also

offered another position with a larger salary, but I declined it.

"In about a week there came to my office a little package addressed to

'Hector, care of Walter Preston.' It contained a handsome gold-plated

collar, on which were engraved his name and a little sketch, 'How Hector

Saved the Train.' It has never since been off his neck.

"Yes, sir, I have been offered large sums for Hector, but there isn't

money enough to buy him."

A Capital Guessing Contest.

Here is something to set the Table guessing. All articles mentioned

grow, and all are of the same general character, hence the expression in

the last verse, "numerous family." The questions are, What general

family is it? and what are each of the forty-three things indicated by

the numbers? No prizes are offered in this contest, and you are not

asked to send answers. The latter will be published in two weeks. The

Table will have a prize-puzzle contest very soon.

Our pedigree is old and long.

Starred with familiar names;

Our family is popular,

And much of worth it claims.

'Tis needless to discriminate

Where all such merit claim;

We'll just describe our characters,

And you can guess each name.

I am the oldest one of all, (1)

And I, the silliest; (2)

I help to play a pleasant game, (3)

While I am just "non est." (4)

I drive a carriage, as you see; (5)

I sit upon the seat; (6)

I'm just a summer visitor; (7)

I exercise the feet. (8)

I furnish you a light at night, (9)

And I am very slow; (10)

But I am of a royal line, (11)

And we are white as snow. (12-13)

I cover o'er the cottage roof,

Supply you with a bed; (14)

We furnish men two kinds of drink; (15-16)

We're looked upon with dread. (17-18)

We bear the names of animals, (19-20)

And we have wings to fly; (21-22-23)

My home is in a swampy place, (24)

And I live in the sky. (25)

I beautify the landscape wide

In early morning hours; (26)

And I adorn the maiden fair,

Mayhap in bridal bowers. (27)

I wear the color of the sky, (28)

And I'm of Afric hue; (29)

I'm an unwelcome visitor,

Though very useful too. (30)

I oft have crowned the victor's brow; (31)

We always block the way; (32-33)

I always keep you in suspense, (34)

And I make winter gay. (35)

Called for a migratory bird,

I'm very sour, you see; (36)

While I am just the opposite,

And sweet as I can be. (37)

We bring good cheer at Christmas-time; (38-39)

We keep the household neat; (40-41)

And I, who try your temper some,

Am really very sweet. (42)

Of all our numerous family

We've mentioned just a few,

But call attention to one more,

The last--'tis simply _you_. (43)

MISS A. C. BANNING.

NEWPORT, R. I.

[Illustration: THE PUDDING STICK]

This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young

Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the

subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor.

How to strengthen the memory is an interesting question. I think the

best way is to use it constantly, making it serve you by giving it

definite facts and events to carry, as a pack-horse might on a journey.

There are many phases of the problem, some people finding that they

cannot fix dates in their minds, others forgetting the faces and names

of friends, and others still having great trouble in committing anything

by rote. Devices of rhymes and associations help some persons, and

others simply depend on memoranda, and do not tax their memories at all.

As a rule, the more we give the memory to do, however, the more quickly

and faithfully it will respond to our wishes. In little children memory

is very retentive, because their minds are at the stage when impressions

are easily made; you know the line which says that in childhood our

minds are "Wax to receive, and marble to retain." So that we should be

very careful indeed about what we say, what we do, and what we teach,

where the dear little ones are concerned.

Gladys R. S---- has a great deal of trouble in remembering the rules of

syntax, the Latin conjugations, and the pages of history which her

teacher requires to be recited exactly as they are in the book. Try the

method of studying aloud, Gladys. Go away by yourself to commit your

lessons to memory, and then, over and over, slowly, carefully, with your

mind and attention fixed on what you are doing, read phrases, sentences

and formulas, over and over, and over and over, and by-and-by you will

have them by heart. I have often done this when I have wished to learn a

hymn or a poem, and I know that _hearing_ what one is studying assists

the mere seeing. Then having other people in the room, talking and

laughing, is very distracting to the attention. Try my method, and

report results.

There is a good deal of useless luggage which one does not need to carry

in one's memory. An engagement calendar, in which you enter explicitly

the several things you have to do, the people you must meet, the places

where you are to go--lunching on Monday with Emily, attending the

Lookout Committee of the Christian Endeavor at five o'clock on Tuesday,

going to the reception of the King's Daughters on Saturday at three--all

these engagements may be recorded against their dates, and you need have

no concern, beyond consulting your calendar every morning.

GENEVIEVE W.--A short skirt answers every purpose of gaiety and

convenience, though there is no objection to your wearing bloomers

if you wish to do so.

[Illustration: Signature]

[Illustration: Ivory Soap]

A luxury is "Any thing which pleases the senses and is also costly or

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[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

_JUST PUBLISHED:_

For King or Country

A Story of the Revolution. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated. Post 8vo,

Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.

This is a story for young readers, and recounts the adventures of twin

brothers who are brought up, just prior to the Revolution, in an

American Tory family. One of the brothers becomes imbued with the spirit

of American patriotism, and is one of the first to enlist in the service

of his country; while the other, having been taken to England, obtains a

lieutenant's commission in the English army, and sails with his regiment

to fight under the standard of King George. The story is a strong piece

of character drawing, and the interest centres in the struggles of the

two brothers--one in his loyalty to his country and the other in his

loyalty to his king.

* * * * *

_OTHER RECENT BOOKS:_

Tommy Toddles.

By ALBERT LEE. Illustrated by PETER S. NEWELL. Square 16mo, Cloth,

Ornamental, $1.25.

A more entertaining collection of nonsense has rarely been

penned.--_Boston Traveller._

There is an endless amount of fun in "Tommy Toddles."--_N. Y. Times._

Just the book for children, and grown people will find plenty of fun in

it.--_N. Y. Sun._

A Life of Christ for Young People

In Questions and Answers. By MARY HASTINGS FOOTE. With Map. Post

8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

It is only occasionally in the book-market that we come across such a

clear decantation of long and well-digested reading as may be found in

this book.--_Critic_, N. Y.

* * * * *

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York.

[Illustration]

SPORT AMONG THE MOONFAYS.

Clear the way!

Clear the way!

This is the Moonfays' Racing Day;

And the terrapin will race the hare

From the oaken-tree to the dodo's lair;

And this is the end of the second heat,

To see which terrapin is most fleet;

For since that time, long years ago,

When the hare was covered with dreadful woe,

When terrapin beat

Brer Rabbit fleet,

The hares have been

So full of chagrin,

They've wanted another chance to win.

And now to-day, this afternoon.

They're going to race by the light of the moon,

For a golden prize--

Two pumpkin pies.

So clear the way!

Clear the way!

So that all hands may have fair play.

P.S.--Don't wager upon the hare

Till you have heard the conditions there;

Brer Terrapin carries his home with him,

And to make things even the rabbit slim

Must race shut up in a ragman's sack,

With his hind legs strapped up over his back.

* * * * *

PERHAPS SHE HAD.

A colored "auntie" seeing the child of a white acquaintance for the

first time, exclaimed:

"Law, massa, how like she is to you! She done got all yore symptoms."

* * * * *

Two negroes were fighting on a wharf in a little Southern town, and

although apparently desperate in their intentions, the actual fighting

was rather mild. A timid bystander, not accustomed to the harmlessness

of such fights, and fearing that the under man would be seriously hurt,

called out:

"Let him up. Can't you see you'll hurt him?"

At this both the negroes burst out laughing, and the one on top cried:

"Yah! yah! Let him up! Why, boss, Ise had too much trouble to git 'im

down. Hi! hi!"

* * * * *

TEACHER. "What is the principal product of value derived from the seal?"

JOHNNY (_unhesitatingly_). "Sealing-wax."

* * * * *

"Ma, where is Atoms?"

"Athens, you mean, my boy; don't you?"

"No, ma'am; I mean Atoms; because when a person is in a boiler

explosion, they always say he is blown to Atoms."

* * * * *

THE RULE OF THE ROAD.

In England the "rules of the road" require foot-passengers to keep to

the right, and horsemen and vehicles to keep to the left. Some years ago

a learned justice looked into the matter, and thus explained it: "The

foot-traveller," he observed, "in ancient times passed to the right in

order that the shield, which was carried on the left arm, might be

interposed to ward off a treacherous blow, while the right arm, or the

sword-arm, was left free for action. Horsemen, on the other hand, were

accustomed to wearing suits of mail for the protection of their bodies,

and it was believed that there was greater safety in having the arm

actively employed in defence and attack nearer to the enemy than to have

to strike at him across the horse's neck; hence the horseman passed to

the left, and vehicles were naturally required to do the same." This

seems like a plausible reason, but in the United States it has been

considered safer to have the rules of the road the same for pedestrians

as well as for horsemen and vehicles; hence in this country the rule of

the highway is to pass to the right. Possibly we choose the right in

preference to the left on the simple proposition that if you turn to the

right you cannot go wrong.

* * * * *

A portly old gentleman was with difficulty making his way down the

street on a very windy day. The strong gusts occasionally carried him

from side to side in a tacking sort of fashion, which finally brought

him up with a crash against an Irishman who was plastering show-bills on

a fence. The old gentleman very politely begged the bill-poster's

pardon, and hoped he had not inconvenienced him much by getting in his

way. So much politeness puzzled the bill-poster, and in a rich Irish

brogue, he replied,

"Faith, if yez ain't in yer own way, yer not in moine!"

* * * * *

[Illustration: A DEEP VOICE.]

A LUCKLESS BULL-FROG LOST HIS VOICE WHILE TALKING IN HIS SLEEP,

AND NOW HE'LL NEVER FISH IT OUT--HIS VOICE IT IS SO DEEP.

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, May 5, 1896, by Various