Jingle all the way;
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh!'
It's just as light as day out-doors. The moon makes the snow look like
frosted cake. I can see the croquet ground as plain as can be, and it
looks like a great square loaf. There's the arbor, and the seats in it
have white cushions on them. How funny it would be to play croquet on
the ice! Only the balls would go so fast we should have to put on skates
to catch them. I can see ever and ever so far--'way over to the woods
where Jack sets his traps. He says they are chock-full of rabbits; but I
don't believe him, for he never catches any. What's that moving on the
edge of the grove? What can it be? Oh, it's lots of them! They are
coming this way, and I can hear them laughing and talking."
Ellie watched, and soon saw a troop of rabbits hopping along toward the
lawn.
"Why, I do believe it is a rabbit party. How lucky it is I haven't gone
to bed!"
On they came, chattering in the funniest way, and dressed in the top of
the fashion. One who seemed to be the leader said: "Ladies and
gentlemen, this is the spot. You see how level it is for dancing, and we
can have a game at croquet if you choose. The band will now strike up;
and take partners, if you please, for a waltz."
Ellie wondered where the band was, but the strains of "Sweet Evelina,
dear Evelina," came floating on the air, and, looking up, she saw two
crows perched on the bar from which the swing hung in summer. One had a
little fiddle, and the other a flute.
"That's the queerest thing yet," thought Ellie. "The idea of a crow
being able to play on anything, when they make such a horrid noise
cawing! The night crows must be different from the day ones."
After the waltz was ended, and the couples were promenading, Ellie took
a good look at the young ladies and their lovely dresses. There was one
so beautiful she was charmed by her. She was as fair as a lily, and so
gentle and sweet Ellie called her the belle of the ball. A little gray
fellow never left her side, and could not do enough for her. He called
her Alicia, and Ellie did not wonder he seemed so fond of her. She
noticed, too, a tall young lady who had a white face with a black nose.
She looked very cross, but was much dressed in a scarlet silk, with a
long train, which gave her no end of trouble, for it was always in the
way. Ellie heard her say, in the crossest way: "I suppose Alicia thinks
she looks well to-night with that high comb in her head. I call her a
perfect fright."
"You only say so because you haven't one," answered her companion. "I
think it is very becoming, and it makes her veil float out beautifully
behind."
The leader called out, "Take partners for the Lancers!" and they quickly
formed into sets.
They danced to perfection; even the "grand square" was got through
without a blunder. The leader was unlucky enough to step upon the
scarlet train, and its wearer turned upon him, crying out: "I do wish,
Mr. Hopkins, you wouldn't be so clumsy! You will tear my dress off me."
He humbly begged her pardon, but told his partner he should look out and
not get in the same set with Matilda again; she was as disagreeable as
ever. "Just because her grandmother was French, she gives herself great
airs. She is no better than the rest of us."
After the Lancers was finished, Matilda went to the arbor to get her
train pinned up. It was sadly torn. While one of the matrons was at work
upon it, Ellie listened to the conversation.
"Why isn't Mrs. Gray here to-night?" asked one.
"Don't you know she has eight little ones a week old to-day?"
"Oh, indeed! Her hands must be full. I have been so busy with my own
affairs, I know nothing about my neighbors'. But who is that who has
just arrived? Mr. Hopkins will surely break his neck trying to get to
him."
"That must be Lord Lepus; he belongs to the Hare family, one of the most
aristocratic in England. I heard he was to be invited. What an honor!--a
nobleman at our New-Year's fête."
Matilda grew impatient, and pulled her dress away, saying, "That will
do; I hope you've been long enough about it," and without a word of
thanks hurried to join the young people.
"How very rude she is!" thought Ellie. "I always thought that French
people were polite."
Her attention was drawn to the new arrival. "He must be what Jack calls
a swell," thought she, "with that long coat almost touching his heels,
and his button-hole bouquet of carnations, heliotrope, and smilax. How
does he keep that one eyeglass in his eye? It never moves, and yet he
skips about like a grasshopper."
"Shall I present your lordship to one of the ladies?" asked Mr. Hopkins.
"Any of them will be only too happy to dance with you."
"Aw, really now!" answered Lord Lepus. "'Pon my word, they are all such
charming creatures, it is hard to choose. Who is the little one with the
blue veil standing with the gentleman in demi-toilet of gray?"
"That is Alicia. The gentleman is Mr. Golightly. They are to be married
soon."
"How extremely interesting! Pray present me."
His lordship secured the blushing Alicia for a waltz, and was so well
pleased with his partner he danced with her again and again.
After the last dance, Ellie saw Mr. Hopkins setting out the wickets for
croquet. The balls were lady apples with different colored ribbons tied
to the stems, and the mallets were cat-o'-nine-tails, with the pussy end
going the other way.
"Well," thought she, "I don't see but that rabbits know as much as
people. I wonder how they will play."
She did not have to wonder long, for they were at it almost before she
had done thinking. Lord Lepus was a fine player. Alicia was his partner,
and with his help her balls went flying through the wickets in a
twinkling. Golightly and Matilda were in the same game, and did their
prettiest; but his lordship was too much for them.
At last when Alicia sent Matilda's ball spinning, and struck the stake
for her partner and then for herself, Matilda flew in a rage, and
lifting her mallet, struck Alicia a blow on the head, which drove the
teeth of her comb down into the pretty white skin. Poor Alicia gave one
cry, and dropped senseless. Golightly was beside himself with grief, and
pushing Lord Lepus aside as he sprang to her aid, cried, "Away! away!
You took her from me in life: she is mine in death."
"I beg pardon--" politely began his lordship, but was interrupted by
Mrs. Muff, Alicia's chaperon, who calmly ordered Golightly to stop his
noise, and help Mr. Hopkins carry her charge to the arbor.
"Oh, what shall we do?" groaned Golightly, beating his brow with his
hand.
"Do," repeated Mrs. Muff; "why, send for a porous plaster. Here,
Skipjack, run to Dr. Pine as fast as you can, and fetch me one."
In a moment he was back with it, and Mrs. Muff quickly clapped it upon
Alicia's head. Ellie looked on with breathless interest, and soon Alicia
slowly opened her eyes, and looking up, said, in a soft voice, "Dear
Golightly!"
Mrs. Muff skillfully jerked off the plaster, and Ellie saw the teeth of
the comb sticking to it.
"Bless my soul! it's the most extraordinary thing," cried his lordship.
"Oh, that's nothing," replied Mrs. Muff; "I always use them when my
children are teething, with great success. But where is Matilda?"
"The poor girl was terribly cut up, you know, and ran away toward the
woods," answered Lord Lepus. "How does the charming Alicia find herself?
Well enough to join us, I hope."
"She must rest awhile. A short nap will entirely restore her," said Mrs.
Muff.
At that moment Mr. Hopkins put his head in the arbor, and announced
supper was served.
"Now," said Mrs. Muff, "while you are at supper Alicia shall go to
sleep, and I will watch her."
Ellie looked out, and saw a table spread on the croquet ground. "Well,
well, how quick rabbits are! I wonder what they have to eat;" and she
ran along with the rest of the party to find out. The table was loaded
with nice things--apples and celery in abundance, and piles and piles of
popped corn. Lord Lepus had never seen any before, and was so much
pleased with it, Mr. Hopkins ordered a waiter to fill a bag and give it
to his lordship when he left. "How strange," thought Ellie; "mamma says
it is very impolite to carry away anything to eat when you go to
parties. But perhaps it is different with rabbits."
When they had finished supper, Mr. Cawkins and son--the band--came
flapping down and picked up everything that was on the table. "I suppose
that playing makes them hungry," thought Ellie; "but how fast they do
eat!"
When the last kernel of popped corn had disappeared, the crows flew back
to their perch and began to play the liveliest, merriest tune Ellie had
ever heard. Mr. Hopkins said to Lord Lepus, "Will your lordship join us
in dancing the merry-go-round? It is our national dance, and we always
have it on New-Year's Eve."
"I shall be most happy; and here comes the fair Alicia, looking as fresh
as a daisy. I will secure her for my partner."
But Mr. Hopkins formed them into a circle, and they began to dance
around, singing as they went. Ellie listened, and caught the words,
"Come dance, come dance the merry-go-round,
With sprightly leap and joyous bound.
We'll grasp each hand with right good cheer,
And welcome in the glad new year.
Oh, the merry-go-round, the merry-go-round,
We'll dance till day is dawning."
They flew around fast and faster, till Ellie could not tell one from
another. They looked like a streak on the snow.
"Dear me, how dizzy they will get! Poor Alicia will certainly have the
headache," thought Ellie; but still quicker went the music, and still
faster flew the dancers. All of a sudden Ellie was startled by a loud
"caw." She felt some one shaking her shoulder, and a voice in her ear
said, "Wake up, Miss Ellie, wake up. The hall clock has just struck half
past nine, and to think of your being out of bed at this hour! What will
your mamma say? That giddy-pate Sarah told me she would undress you, for
I was called away."
"I am so glad," said sleepy little Ellie, "for I have seen the
merry-go-round."
Nurse gathered her up in her arms, and bore her to the nursery.
"Nursey," asked Ellie, "are English hares better than our rabbits?"
"Yes, miss, much better for soup."
"Soup!" cried Ellie; "how dreadful, when he was so beautifully dressed!"
"Yes," said nurse, "we like to have them dressed; they are so hard to
skin."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Ellie. "He wore such a beautiful long
coat, and had on a locket and three rings."
"Dear me," thought nurse, "she has been in the moonlight so long I am
afraid it has turned her brain. She certainly seems a little looney. The
sooner she is undressed and in her bed, the better."
"Oh, nursey, the next time baby has any teeth coming, put on a porous
plaster, and it will pull them right through his gums."
"Bless the child! What is she talking about now? Hares and plasters! The
moon is a dangerous thing, and Sarah shall be well scolded for her
neglect."
As Ellie laid her head on the pillow, she said, "They danced the
merry-go-round, and at the end of every verse they sang, 'Oh, the
merry-go-round, the merry-go-round, we'll--dance--till--day--'"
Nurse looked, and saw that little Ellie was fast asleep.
A WISE DOG.
Many anecdotes have been published respecting dogs, proving that,
besides giving evidence of being endowed with certain moral qualities,
they possess and exercise memory, reasoning powers, and forethought;
they can communicate with each other, form plans, and act in concert.
The subject, however, is by no means exhausted, and dog stories almost
always meet with a welcome reception, especially from juvenile readers.
The following story gives an instance, in the first place, of two dogs
combining to perform a certain action; in the second place, it shows
that one of these dogs evidently understood from the conversation of his
master and another man the consequences likely to result from this
action, and that he thereupon formed and carried out a plan to avoid
them.
[Illustration: COME OUT AND HAVE SOME FUN.]
A farmer who resided in a town on the borders of Dartmoor was the owner
of a valuable sheep-dog. So skillful was this dog in collecting and
driving the sheep, that he almost performed the part of a shepherd. If
the farmer, on his return from market, wanted the sheep to be driven to
the field, he had only to say, "Keeper, take the sheep to field," and
the dog would collect the flock and drive them to the field without
suffering a single one to stray. But the proverb, "Evil communications
corrupt good manners," is as applicable to dogs as to men. Keeper got
acquainted with another dog, which proved to be of disreputable
character, and like other disreputable characters, had a habit of
rambling about at night. When the farmer was smoking his evening pipe by
the kitchen fire, and Keeper was stretched along the hearth, apparently
asleep, a low bark would be heard outside; Keeper would prick up his
ears, and when the door was opened, would make his escape and join his
companion, and then away would go both dogs on a ramble.
This game was carried on for some little time; Keeper's bad habits were
not suspected at home, and he did his duty by his master's sheep as
faithfully as ever. In the mean time it became known in the town that a
few miles distant many sheep had been "worried" by dogs, but as yet the
culprit or culprits had not been discovered. It may, perhaps, be as well
to explain that by "worrying" sheep is meant that they have been
attacked by dogs, which seize the sheep by the throat, bite them, and
suck the blood, and then leave them to perish. In a single night one dog
has been known to "worry" forty sheep. No wonder such animals are a
terror to farmers. Besides, if a dog once takes to "worrying" sheep, he
never leaves off the habit.
One evening as the farmer sat by his fire smoking and conversing with a
neighbor, Keeper as usual basking by the fire, and waiting the expected
call of his dog companion, the conversation turned on the great number
of sheep that had been lately "worried" and destroyed, and the loss that
would ensue to the farmers.
"Well," said the neighbor, "we caught one on 'em, with his mouth and
coat bloody, and we hanged him up on the spot. They do say thy dog
Keeper was with un."
"It is too true, he was there," replied the farmer; then looking at the
apparently sleeping dog, and shaking his head at him, he said, "Thee
knows thee has been with un. Thy turn will come next. We'll hang thee up
to-morrow."
Keeper lay still, pretending sleep, but with his ears open. He had heard
his death-warrant, and was determined that it should not be carried into
execution if he could prevent it. When the outer door was opened, he
slunk off quietly, and was never seen again.
What became of him was never known.
Who will say after this that dogs do not understand the conversation of
men, especially when it relates to "worrying" sheep, and the punishment
it entails on the guilty dogs?
[Illustration: Music: A Fox went out in a hungry plight.]
* * * * *
=The Lesson of the Bath.=--One of the most valuable discoveries made by
Archimedes, the famous scholar of Syracuse, in Sicily, relates to the
weight of bodies immersed in water. Hiero, King of Syracuse, had given a
lump of gold to be made into a crown, and when it came back he suspected
that the workmen had kept back some of the gold, and had made up the
weight by adding more than the right quantity of silver; but he had no
means of proving this, because they had made it weigh as much as the
gold which had been sent. Archimedes, puzzling over this problem, went
to his bath. As he stepped in he saw the water, which his body
displaced, rise to a higher level in the bath, and to the astonishment
of his servants he sprang out of the water, and ran home through the
streets of Syracuse almost naked, crying, "_Eureka! Eureka!_" ("I have
found it! I have found it!").
What had he found? He had discovered that any solid body put into a
vessel of water displaces a quantity of water equal to its own bulk, and
therefore that equal weights of two substances, one light and bulky, and
the other heavy and small, will displace different quantities of water.
This discovery enabled him to solve his problem. He procured one lump of
gold and another of silver, each weighing exactly the same as the crown.
Of course the lumps were not the same size, because silver is lighter
than gold, and so it takes more of it to make up the same weight. He
first put the gold into a basin of water, and marked on the side of the
vessel the height to which the water rose.
Next, taking out the gold, he put in the silver, which, though it
weighed the same, yet, being larger, made the water rise higher; and
this height he also marked. Lastly, he took out the silver and put in
the crown. Now if the crown had been pure gold, the water would have
risen only up to the mark of the gold, but it rose higher, and stood
between the gold and silver marks, showing that silver had been mixed
with it, making it more bulky; and by calculating how much water was
displaced, Archimedes could estimate roughly how much silver had been
added. This was the first attempt to measure the _specific gravity_ of
different substances; that is, the weight of any particular substance
compared to an equal bulk of some other substance taken as a standard.
In weighing solids or liquids, water is the usual standard.
* * * * *
=How this Solid Earth keeps Changing.=--The student of history reads of
the great sea-fight which King Edward III. fought with the French off
Sluys; how in those days the merchant vessels came up to the walls of
that flourishing sea-port by every tide; and how, a century later, a
Portuguese fleet conveyed Isabella from Lisbon, and an English fleet
brought Margaret of York from the Thames, to marry successive Dukes of
Burgundy at the port of Sluys. In our time, if a modern traveller drives
twelve miles out of Bruges, across the Dutch frontier, he will find a
small agricultural town, surrounded by corn fields and meadows and
clumps of trees, whence the sea is not in sight from the top of the
town-hall steeple. This is Sluys.
Once more. We turn to the great Baie du Mont Saint Michel, between
Normandy and Brittany. In Roman authors we read of the vast forest
called "Setiacum Nemus," in the centre of which an isolated rock arose,
surmounted by a temple of Jupiter, once a college of Druidesses. Now the
same rock, with its glorious pile dedicated to St. Michael, is
surrounded by the sea at high tides. The story of this transformation is
even more striking than that of Sluys, and its adequate narration justly
earned for M. Manet the gold medal of the French Geographical Society in
1828.
Once again. Let us turn for a moment to the Mediterranean shores of
Spain, and the mountains of Murcia. Those rocky heights, whose peaks
stand out against the deep blue sky, scarcely support a blade of
vegetation. The algarobas and olives at their bases are artificially
supplied with soil. It is scarcely credible that these are the same
mountains which, according to the forest-book of King Alfonso el Sabio,
were once clothed to their summits with pines and other forest trees,
while soft clouds and mist hung over a rounded, shaggy outline of wood
where now the naked rocks make a hard line against the burnished sky.
But Arab and Spanish chroniclers alike record the facts, and
geographical science explains the cause. There is scarcely a district in
the whole range of the civilized world where some equally interesting
geographical story has not been recorded, and where the same valuable
lessons may not be taught. This is comparative geography.
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
That our youthful correspondents may not think we slight any of their
favors, we would say that we regret exceedingly that our limited space
compels us to print so few of their prettily worded and neatly written
letters. We thank you all for your praise and hearty goodwill, but while
we read all your comments on _Young People_ with attention, as in that
way we learn what pleases you best, we must choose for printing those
letters which tell something of interest to other young readers.
To one thing we would call your attention. When you send drawings of
"Wiggles" and other picture puzzles, be careful to do it on a separate
piece of paper. Your letters are all recorded, and filed away, and if
your idea for a "Wiggle" is drawn on the same piece of paper on which
you write your letter, it makes confusion. We hope our young
correspondents will pay attention to this suggestion.
* * * * *
ISHPEMING, MICHIGAN.
In _Harper's Young People_, No. 10, Mr. Lossing wrote about
"Putnam's Narrow Escape." He said his informant was General
Ebenezer Mead. Please tell Mr. Lossing that General Mead was my
great-grandfather. I am nine years old. I was born in Evergreen,
Louisiana, and came North when I was only three weeks old, so I
don't remember about any home but where I live now.
BEN BRYANT HILL.
* * * * *
DEL NORTE, COLORADO.
I am ten years old, and live away out in the Rocky Mountains. I
went down to the hotel last night, and saw the twelve Ute chiefs
who are on the way to Washington. Ouray, the head chief, had his
wife with him. There being but one chair in the room, she very
kindly sat flat upon the floor, and allowed her husband to occupy
the chair.
WALLACE S.
* * * * *
SHEEPSCOTT BRIDGE, MAINE.
I am eleven years old. My father tells me lots of stories about
Indians, and shows me the places where some poor people were killed
by them. Our field takes in a part of Garrison Hill, where people
used to come into the fort when the Indians came. My father says
Sheepscott is a very old place, and the Pilgrims came here for
corn. Close by our field is an old barn where the Indians came when
some men were threshing, and fired on them, and killed two and took
their scalps off, and one man hit back at them with his flail, and
broke an Indian's arm, and they carried him prisoner to Canada. It
says so on his old grave-stone, and I have seen it. My grandfather
shot bears, but there are none here now. The people here build
little houses on the ice, and catch lots of smelts through a hole
in the ice. Sometimes there are as many as a hundred houses. The
smelts are sent to New York. I like _Young People_, and hope I
shall always get it.
CLARENCE E. C.
* * * * *
WARREN, OHIO.
I want to tell you about my dogs. I have two coach-dogs; Spot and
Sport are their names. I used to drive them in a sleigh, and they
would draw me all about the town. I trained them all myself. Sport
was just like some horses; he would back and kick and chew his
harness. One day he chewed it all to pieces. Spot was good all the
time. I am older now, and drive ponies. I drove the dogs when I was
five years old.
ALASKA P.
* * * * *
EMPORIA, KANSAS.
My uncle gave me a little axe on New-Year's Day, of which I am very
proud, and make good use of it by cutting wood for my mamma, but
Kansas wood is very hard to split. My papa says, "Where there is a
will there is a way," and I am going to earn money enough with my
axe to subscribe for _Young People_.
PORTER HUNTER.
* * * * *
EAST SMITHFIELD, PENNSYLVANIA.
I have a canary. His name is Willie. He sings very sweetly, but he
has not bathed for a long time. Do you know any way to make him
take his bath?
MARY.
Sometimes canaries will not bathe in cold weather. You must give your
bird tepid water, otherwise it will get chilled, and sicken. Try putting
the bath dish in its cage and leaving it alone. Some canaries will never
bathe if they are watched.
* * * * *
PEABODY, MASSACHUSETTS.
I have two Maltese cats exactly alike. One of them will eat
pea-nuts faster than I can crack them. The one that eats pea-nuts
has a bad cold. What can I do for her?
HARRY P. H.
Your kitty has a very funny appetite. Keep her in a warm corner by the
fire, and give her plenty of warm milk to drink, and her cold will get
well. A little weak catnip tea mixed with the milk would do her good.
* * * * *
Robie I. G. has a kitty which climbs up on the balusters every morning
and tries to open his chamber door; Carlotta P. writes that her kitties
Betsy and Busti play with balls, and run up the curtains as if they were
climbing trees; Charlie M. S., Annie C. and Maggie W., Mattie V. S., and
Ida R. L., also write of pet cats and dogs and birds.
* * * * *
MAYNARD A. M.--Your story and poems are very pretty, and show much fancy
and imagination for a boy of your age, but we have not room to print
them. We return them to Detroit, Michigan, the only address you give.
* * * * *