CHITSAH'S NATURAL TELEPHONE.
Seventeen green wolf-skins formed a heavy sledge-load, especially for
the weakened dog teams, but fortunately Jalap Coombs's feet were again
in condition for walking, and snow on the river was not yet deep. So it
was determined to carry them at least for the present. On the evening
following that of the encounter with wolves, Phil, leaving the work of
preparing camp to the others, unpacked the Eskimo wolf-traps of
compressed whalebone that he had procured at Makagamoot. He had twenty
of the ingenious little contrivances, and wrapped each one in a strip of
frozen wolf meat that he had saved and brought along for the purpose.
When all were thus prepared he carried them about a quarter of a mile
from camp, and there dropped them at short intervals in a great circle
about it. He knew the dogs would not stray that far, since their
experience of the night before, and so felt pretty certain that the
traps would only find their way to the destination for which they were
intended.
The first blood-chilling howl was heard soon after dark, and a few
minutes later it was apparent that wolves were again gathering from all
quarters. Then the anxious watchers caught occasional glimpses of dim
forms and sometimes of a pair of gleaming eyes, that invariably drew a
shot from Phil's rifle. Still, the wolves seemed to remember their
lesson, or else they waited for the occupants of the camp to fall
asleep, for they made no effort at an attack.
As time passed, the wolf tones began to change, and defiant howlings to
give place to yelps and yells of distress. Soon other sounds were
mingled with these--the fierce snarlings of savage beasts fighting over
their prey. The traps were doing their work. Those wolves that had
eagerly gulped them down were so stricken with deadly pains that they
staggered, fell, and rolled in the snow. At the first symptoms of
distress others sprang upon them and tore them to pieces, at the same
time battling fiercely over their cannibal feast. So wolf fed wolf,
while the night echoed with their hideous outcries, until finally the
survivors, gorged with the flesh of their own kind, slunk away, and
after some hours of bedlam quiet once more reigned in the forest.
So Phil's scheme proved a success, and for the remainder of that night
he and his companions slept in peace. At daylight they visited the
scenes of wolfish feasting, and found everywhere plentiful evidence of
what had taken place; but this time they gathered in neither rugs nor
robes, for only blood stains and bones remained.
For another week did the sledge party journey down the several streams
that, emptying one into another, finally formed the Conehill River, or,
as the gold-diggers call it, Forty Mile Creek, because its mouth is
forty miles down the Yukon from the old trading-post of Fort Reliance.
As the first half of their long journey drew toward a close they became
anxious as to its results and impatient for its end. When would they
reach the settlement? and could they get there before their rivals who
had followed the Yukon? were the two questions that they constantly
asked of each other, but which none could answer.
Phil grew almost despondent as he reflected upon the length of time
since they left old Fort Adams, and gave it as his opinion that the
other party must have reached Forty Mile, long since.
Jalap Coombs was firm in his belief that the other party was still far
away, and that his would be the first in; for, quoth he: "Luck allers
has been on my side, and I'm going to believe it allers will be. My old
friend Kite Roberson useter say, speaking of luck, and he give it as his
own experience, that them as struck the best kinds of luck was them as
worked the hardest for it, and ef they didn't get it one way they was
sure to another. Likewise he useter say, Kite did, consarning
worriments, that ef ye didn't pay no attention to one 'twould be mighty
apt to pass ye by; but ef ye encouraged it by so much as a wink or a nod
ye'd have to fight it to git red of it. So, as they hain't no worriments
hove in sight, what's the use in s'arching for 'em?"
As for Kurilla, whenever his opinion was asked, he always grinned, and
returned the same answer:
"You come pretty quick, mebbe. Yaas."
So each day of the last three or four brought its fresh hope; at each
succeeding bend of the stream all eyes were strained eagerly forward for
a sight of the expected cluster of log huts, and each night brought a
disappointment.
At length one evening, when Phil, who had pushed on longer than usual,
in an effort to end their suspense, was reluctantly compelled by
gathering darkness to go into camp, Chitsah suddenly attracted attention
to himself by running to a tree and pressing an ear to the trunk. As the
others stared a smile overspread his face, and he said something to his
father, which the latter instantly interpreted.
"What!" cried Phil, incredulously. "He thinks he hears the sound of
chopping?"
"Yaas," answered Kurilla. "Axe chop um white man. Plenty. Yaas."
"I too can hear something," exclaimed Serge, who had imitated Chitsah's
movements, "though I wouldn't swear it was chopping."
"Hurrah! So can I!" shouted Phil, after a moment of intent listening at
another tree. "First time, though, I ever knew that the public telephone
service was extended to this country. The sound I heard might be a train
of cars twenty miles away or a woodpecker somewhere within sight. No
matter. If Chitsah says it's chopping, it must be, for he ought to know,
seeing that he first heard it with the aid of the tree-telephone. So
let's go for it. We can afford to travel an hour or two in the dark for
the sake of meeting the white man who is swinging that axe."
"Of course we can," replied Serge.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Jalap Coombs.
"Mebbe catch um. Yaas," added Kurilla, sharing the general enthusiasm.
An hour later, as they rounded a projecting point, Phil uttered an
exulting shout. A cluster of twinkling lights shone dead ahead, and our
travellers' goal was won.
"Let's give them a volley," suggested Serge. "It's the custom of the
country, you know."
So the guns were taken from their deer-skin coverings, and at Phil's
word of command a roar from double-barrel, flintlock, and Winchester
woke glad echoes from both sides of the broad valley, and from the
rugged Yukon cliffs beyond. Then with cheers and frantic yelpings of
dogs, the sledge brigade dashed on toward the welcoming lights.
"Hello the camp!" yelled Phil, as they approached the dark cluster of
cabins.
"On deck!" roared Jalap Coombs, as though he were hailing a ship at sea.
"Hello yourself!" answered a gruff voice--the first hail in their own
tongue that the boys had heard in many a week. "Who are you? Where do
you come from? And what's all this racket about?"
"White men," replied Phil, "with dog-sledges, up from Yukon month."
"Great Scott! You don't say so! No wonder you're noisy! Hi, boys! Here's
the first winter outfit that ever came from Yukon mouth to Forty Mile.
What's the matter with giving them a salute?"
"Nothing at all!" cried a score of voices, and then volley after volley
rang forth, until it seemed as though every man there must have carried
a loaded gun and emptied it of all six shots in honor of the occasion.
Men came running from all directions, and before the shooting ceased the
entire population of the camp, some three hundred in number, were
eagerly crowding about the new-comers, plying them with questions, and
struggling for the honor of shaking hands with the first arrivals of the
year.
"Are we really the first to come up?" asked Phil.
"To be sure you are. Not only that, but the first ones to reach the
diggings from any direction since navigation closed. But how did you
come? Not by the river, I know, for when I heard your shooting 'twas
away up the creek."
"We came by the Tananah and across the Divide," answered Phil. "There is
another party coming by way of the river, though."
"Hark to that, boys! One train just arrived and another coming! I tell
you, old Forty Mile is right in it. Daily express from all points;
through tickets to Europe, Arup, and Arrap; morning papers and
opera-houses, circus and theaytres. Looks like the boom had struck us at
last. But say, stranger, what _is_ the news from below?"
"New steamer on her way up the river, with saw-mill, mining machinery,
and best stock of goods ever seen in Alaska," replied Phil, quick to
seize the opportunity, and anxious to make his business known while he
still had the field to himself. "We have come from her, and are on our
way to San Francisco to send up a new stock for next season. So we have
only stopped to take your orders and find out what will be the most
acceptable."
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd, wild with excitement. "Send us a brass
band," shouted one. "In swaller-tails and white kids," added another.
"What's the matter with moving the Palace Hotel up here?" suggested a
third.
"Come, fellows, let up," cried the man who had been the first to welcome
the new arrivals, and whose name was Riley. "We mustn't keep these
gentlemen standing out here in the cold any longer. I reckon they're
hungry, too, and wondering why we don't invite 'em to grub. So, men,
just come into my shebang and make yourselves at home. There isn't much
to it, but such as it is it's yours, so long as you'll honor yours
truly."
"No, come with me," cried another voice. "I've got beans, Boston baked,
fresh from the can." "I've got molasses and soft-tack," and "I've just
made a dish of scouse." "Come with us," shouted others.
"No, you don't!" roared Mr. Riley. "They're my meat, and they are going
to bunk in with me."
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
[Illustration]
TYPICAL AMERICAN SCHOOLS.
ANDOVER.
BY WILLIAM PHILLIPS GRAVES.
About one hundred and sixteen years ago a small school was started in a
carpenter's shop on Andover Hill. This little school of about twelve
boys was the origin of the great Phillips Academy, which now numbers
about five hundred. Its founder was a certain Judge Samuel Phillips, a
prominent young lawyer and statesman in Massachusetts during the
Revolution. Besides giving much of his own money to the school, he
enlisted the aid of some of his relatives, all of whom were very rich
for those days, and soon had them so much interested in founding schools
that his uncle, John Phillips, started a similar one in Exeter, New
Hampshire, and named it Phillips Exeter Academy.
The little academy in Andover did not long hold its sessions in a
carpenter's shop. It was soon provided with a good building by its
wealthy founder; and, with an energetic principal and a fine set of
boys, many of whom afterwards became famous men, the school flourished
at once, and became widely known.
The location of the school has been shifted about on Andover Hill, for
its buildings were several times burned down. One of them, the Science
Building, is said to have been set on fire by a boy in revenge for
having been severely disciplined. Tradition says that he is still
living. If he should risk coming to Andover now, and could see the fine
new Science Building which replaces the one he destroyed, I venture to
say that his conscience would be immensely relieved.
[Illustration: THE PRESENT GYMNASIUM.
Where Oliver Wendell Holmes went to school.]
The present Gymnasium is the old school-house which Oliver Wendell
Holmes attended in his boyhood, and which he has immortalized in his
poem read at the centennial celebration in 1878:
"The morning came. I reached the classic hall.
A clock face eyed me, staring from the wall.
Beneath its hands a printed line I read--
Youth is Life's Seed Time;' so the clock face said.
Some took its counsel, as the sequel showed,
Sowed their wild oats, and reaped as they had sowed.
How all comes back--the upward slanting floor.
The masters' thrones that flanked the master's door,
The long outstretching alleys that divide
The row of desks that stands on either side,
The staring boys, a face to every desk,
Bright, dull, pale, blooming, common, picturesque."
The life at Andover is more like college life than at most schools. The
boys have their rooms in private boarding-houses, or small dormitories
on and near the Hill. Here they do all their studying during day study
hours, and here they must be at eight o'clock in the evening, for at a
quarter before eight the academy bell begins to toll warningly until
five minutes before the hour, when it rings rapidly. This means that
every boy not within walking distance of his home must run, and woe to
him who is discovered lingering on the street after eight!
Of course many of the teachers acquire great reputations as eagle-eyed
detectives or lightning sprinters, and traditions are not dead yet of
the hot races that have taken place between belated youths and some
sprinting instructor. Sometimes this pursuer is a real teacher, but
often he is only a boy theatrically made up to represent some dignified
teacher, and who is out for a little exercise. I can remember one
genuine race, when the culprit was discovered skylarking around the
enchanted grounds of the "Fem. Sem." His pursuer, though a heavy man,
and with the worst record in the faculty as a sprinter, maintained a
most lively pace, and the race never ended until our young friend was
dragged, panting and very much scared, from under his bed.
Besides these boarding-houses there are the famous English and Latin
"Commons." These are ranged in rows at each end of the campus or
playground. The houses, which resemble factory cottages, are not
beautiful architecturally; but boys do not care for that usually. These
rooms are very cheap, and are primarily meant for boys who cannot afford
the greater luxury of private boarding-houses. Yet they are very
comfortable, and, from the greater independence and pleasant dormitory
life, many richer fellows are found there.
[Illustration: AN ANDOVER ROOM.]
The life in these Commons is quite like college life. In front of each
row is a low fence, where, as at Yale, fellows gather of a warm evening
and sing songs and have a good sociable time generally. Each boy must
care for his own room; and every Friday noon an inspection of rooms is
made by the faculty, so that beds are made up and clothes put away once
a week at least.
[Illustration: THE ADMINISTRATION BUILDING AND ACADEMY HALL.]
The day's work at Phillips begins at 8.10 in the morning, when, after
much tolling and rapid ringing of the old bell, the whole five hundred
boys assemble for prayers in the great Academy Hall, where hang the
portraits of teachers and benefactors and founders of a century back.
Recitations are held during the day until half past four, when all hands
turn out for a good time. Every tennis-court and ball-ground is
immediately more than occupied. The first teams begin to practise on the
campus, the athletic team gets to work on the track, and bicyclers start
off in all directions. Others stroll off for a walk to Indian Ridge, or
the old railroad, or Sunset Rock, or Allen Hinton's. Allen Hinton is the
famous ice-cream man. No one can make better ice-cream than he. Besides
his fame as an ice-cream maker, he is the greatest fox-hunter for miles
around, and his stories of fox-hunting and his experiences in the war
are something worth hearing.
Then "Chap's" is a great meeting-place for those who like eating better
than exercise. Here boys have drunk soda-water and eaten candy and
griddle-cakes, and ruined their digestions for years and years. The
benches and stalls are so thickly inscribed with names that it is
difficult to find room to carve a new one.
Andover has always been noted for its fine athletic teams. The great
rivalry between Exeter and Andover has brought the standard of athletics
up very high, so that college Freshman teams are usually beaten by the
Phillips boys, and even the Yale and Harvard 'varsity teams often have
no easy task in overcoming them.
For many years the great events of the school year have been the
football and baseball games with Exeter. For weeks before the game the
chief topics of conversation are the chalices of victory and the
prospects of this and that man for the team. As the day for the game
draws near, the excitement increases. Crowds watch the daily practice,
and under appointed leaders work up new cheers or practise on the old
ones, so that those who do not belong to the teams have at least a
chance to beat Exeter at yelling.
Finally the great day arrives. Every man in school who owns or can
borrow a couple of dollars has his excursion ticket, and eight or ten
yards of blue and white ribbon with which to decorate his cane, hat, and
button-hole. After the morning recitation the whole school, supported by
half the town of Andover and certain extraordinary mascots, board the
special train for Exeter, gay with flags and ribbons, and noisy with tin
horns. Even the cars and engine are draped with blue.
[Illustration: A "FOOTBALL" COACH.]
After reaching Exeter a rush is made for the campus, and a mad scramble
for seats ensues. Those who are fortunate enough to belong to the secret
societies have positions on gayly decked coaches. With Andover men
massed on one side of the field and Exeter men on the other, an
alternate contest of cheering at once takes place, like the Greek
choruses of old. While waiting for the athletes to appear, the
excitement is intense. For real genuine excitement a Harvard-Yale
contest is a dull affair compared with an Andover-Exeter game.
When you are sixteen years old or less, and at Phillips, you don't care
for close games. You want to see your own side make all the runs or
touch-downs possible, and although cheering of opponents' errors is
strictly against school courtesy, yet the more points your own team
makes, and the poorer the other plays, the more you feel like yelling
and waving your cane and slapping your friend on the back and
congratulating yourself that you went to Andover instead of Exeter.
Such a contest as this was the baseball game of '87. About the seventh
inning a mysterious-looking wagon containing something covered with a
canvas drove rapidly across the field and disappeared in the woods
behind. This strange appearance was soon forgotten in the interest of
the game; but the wagon bore the instruments of the Andover Brass Band,
who were concealed in the woods, and whom a loyal citizen had hired in
case of victory. At the end of the game, when all Andover was tearing
madly on the field and bearing off the victors on their shoulders, the
band appeared on the scene in full blare. Every one fell in behind them,
helping them out with tin horns and cries of "Left, left, left, the
Exeter men got left!" And each year some new feature like this is
introduced.
Then ensues the usual scene after a victory. The entire wild procession
moves to the depot, followed by the chagrined and more or less angry
Exeter men. At the depot, after some friendly scuffling and snatching of
canes and colors for souvenirs, and deafening cheering on the part of
everybody, the special train moves away for Andover, long before
stripped of its blue colors, to supply those who have failed to bring a
ribbon for themselves.
On the train the expressions of joy do not cease. Every brakeman or
conductor who ventures inside a car is immediately put up for a speech.
The brakemen often object, and smash their red lanterns about on the
heads of small boys, who do not mind it in the least. When Andover is
reached, all, tired and hoarse, but happy, make for their
boarding-houses for a rousing supper and a little rest before the
time-honored celebration in the evening. At half past eight this
celebration takes place, and all sally forth, armed with tin horns of
huge proportions. Study hours never count on celebration nights.
According to tradition, the members of the victorious team are drawn
about in a barge by a rope long enough for the whole school. They are
hauled about to the houses of the faculty. Each teacher is lustily
cheered by his popular nickname, and then called forth to make a speech.
After the round of the faculty houses, the whole mob, not a whit less
noisy for all its exertions, retire to the campus. In less than twenty
minutes a mass of oil-barrels and fence rails miraculously appears, and
is heaped to the size of an ordinary barn. After a bath of kerosene oil
a famous fire is set going. All join hands around the fire. The captain
of the team is mounted on the shoulders of two sturdy friends. Every one
gathers himself together for one last shout, and around they whirl in a
wild weird dance. Then the fire begins to die down; it is getting toward
midnight; the faculty begin to flit warningly about; all, tired and
scarcely able to talk, go quietly home, and the great celebration is
over.
This is a sample of what takes place after a victory. After defeat the
town in the evening is silent as the grave, and the depression for
several days is quite appalling. In these games feeling often runs high,
but such things as fights are very rare. At such times Andover and
Exeter men speak disrespectfully of each other, but the chances are that
one's best friends at college may be these very opponents, and perhaps
one likes them all the better for having once done them an injustice.
But Andover does not go in for athletics alone. In their studies the
boys are so well trained that at college they usually take high position
in their classes without any difficulty whatever. For those who are
inclined to literary pursuits there is the _Phillipian_ to try for. It
is issued twice a week, and it is considered a great honor to become a
member of the editing board. Then there is the _Mirror_ every month,
which contains literature of a more solid character. Besides these there
are yearly publications which offer prizes for drawings. The
Philomathean Society, which has held meetings for seventy years, is the
debating society. Those who are sensible enough to join this, and
practise speaking before a crowd, receive a training that helps them
wonderfully all their lives. This society and a flourishing branch of
the Y.M.C.A. are powerful influences in the school. What with the
different prize speakings, the glee and banjo clubs, the track-athletic
and tennis teams, and numberless other organizations, every boy has a
chance to distinguish himself.
Sunday is a delightful day at Andover. The afternoon stroll with one's
best friend in the beautiful country around is perhaps the pleasantest
experience in the week. Boys are obliged to attend church twice on
Sunday, but few of them object to this compulsory attendance, for the
services are conducted in turn by the professors of the Theological
Seminary, all of whom are very distinguished and interesting men, who
never fail to interest their hearers.
The Theological Seminary is situated near the school, and as is always
the case, the men are closer students and more devoted to their work
than are the members of the Academy proper. That does not mean, however,
that they do not join the latter in their social and athletic life. Once
they had a baseball team that could completely demolish the Phillips
nine. Their pitcher, a famous Yale player, was said to be the only man
in the country who could deliver a "snake" curve.
Near Phillips Academy also is situated the Abbot Female Academy. This is
a large girls' school. No uninvited boy is allowed on these sacred
premises, and all intercourse between the two schools is forbidden.
Nevertheless, the stories of midnight serenaders and of encounters with
Pat, the Fem. Sem. policeman, would fill a volume.
Every Andover man loves his school, not only for the fun and scrapes
that he had there, but for the good that he has received from it. Many
of his strongest friendships were formed there, and much of his success
at college and in after-life has depended on the associations made at
school, while those who have not gone to college feel that they gained
at Andover an education by no means scanty.
A REVENGEFUL WHALE.
BY W. J. HENDERSON.
The ship was under a cloud of canvas. Old Handsome lay on his side away
forward near the knight-heads, where the rhythmic rise and fall of the
bows lulled him like the rocking of a cradle.
"Say," he drawled, in a lazy voice, "the old ship looks very gay in the
sunset, doesn't she?"
"Waal," said Farmer Joe, "she dew look right peert. But all the same I
don't see no use o' wastin' a whole dog-watch a-lookin' at her."
"Who arst yer to?" said another sailor.
"Waal," continued Farmer Joe, "what I'm a-thinkin' of is that Handsome
ort to tell us some more o' his whalin' exper'ences."
Handsome uttered a feeble moan of protest. But the seamen gathered
around him and persisted.
"Well, well," he said at length, "hold on a minute till I overhaul my
recollection-lockers. Let's see; where was I? Oh yes; I'd got to where I
was lost from the _Ellen Burgee_, and was picked up by the whaler _Two
Cousins_. Well, that was a rum sort of a go. You see the Captain of the
_Two Cousins_ was very glad to get us, because he was short-handed, some
of his men having deserted at the last port. So we agreed to work in
with his crew until our own ship was sighted, when he was to put us
aboard of her. Of course we never had any sort of a notion that it was
going to be six months before we got back to the _Ellen Burgee_. Say, of
all the wearing, tearing things that can come to a man in this world
there's nothing more exasperating than waiting for whales. We pretty
nearly went crazy aboard the _Two Cousins_, for it was two weeks before
the masthead let go the mighty welcome yell,
"'There she breaches!'
"The skipper he jumped into the rigging and took a squint, and the next
minute he shouted:
"'There she blows--one--two--three! Three good whales. Lower away
lively, you shipkeepers!'
"Our crew had been put in one boat, because the Captain agreed that we'd
do better working together, and of course he knew we wouldn't run away,
because there wasn't any place to run to. Well, we lowered away and off
we went under oars, because the whales were dead to windward, and not so
very far away either. We had gone about half the distance, when the
boat-steerer said,
"'There goes flukes.'
"Which meant, of course, that the whales had sounded. There was nothing
to do except to wait for them to come up again. They staid down a pretty
long time, which proved that they were big ones, and then they came up
half a mile dead to leeward of us. We set our little boat sail, there
was a fairly good breeze, and we went dancing over the waves toward the
whales at a good pace. The first mate of the _Two Cousins_ had the
weather-gage of us, and he had the smallest whale. The one we were
heading for was a regular old leviathan.
"'Get in your sail,' whispered the boat-steerer.
"It was done with great caution.
"'Now a good stroke, starboard, to pull her round.'
"We were now in a position to go up to his whaleship without being seen;
so the boat-steerer says:
"'Now, lads, give way with a will. Jump her; jump her!'
"We dashed our oars, and the boat sprang forward.
"'Now!'
"The iron was thrown with a whiz, and as quick as a flash--yes, as quick
as a mouse could dart into his hole--the whale went down into the sea.
The line ran out of the tub fast enough to make you dizzy. All of a
sudden--how, I never could tell--there was a kink in the line, and it
fouled for a second in the bow chock. Such a thing meant destruction to
the boat, and as quick as thought I, being bowman, grabbed the axe and
cut the line.
"'Blast you!' yelled the boat-steerer; 'what did you do that for?'
"'Do you want to be towed under?' I said. 'I should think we'd had
enough towing.'
"'Well,' says he, cooling down a bit, 'there's a fine whale gone off
with a good iron in him.'
"The other boats did not have much better luck than we did, seeing that
their whales got frightened and began to run. They chased the brutes for
two hours, and couldn't get anywhere near them. Then it commenced to get
late, and the ship hoisted the waif--"
"What's that?" asked Farmer Joe.
"That's the boat recall in a whaler," answered Handsome; "and when it
went up we had to go back to the ship, where we were jawed by the
Captain, and made fun of by the rest of the crew. Still, we didn't mind
that so very much, because, you know, it's pretty likely to be turn
about in a whaler, and you can't ever tell when an accident is going to
happen to the oldest hand. It was three days before we saw a whale
again. I was on lookout, and I caught sight of a spurt of spray away
down to leeward. I was hardly sure of it at first, but the next second
the whale rose on a sea, and I caught the flash of the sun on his shiny
wet back. So I bawled away as usual,
"'There blows!'
"'Only one?' yelled the Captain.
"'That's all, sir,' says I.
"'Well,' says he,' we'll make sure of him, anyhow.'
"So he gives orders to lower away three boats. These boats were to
spread out in running down on the whale, so that if he sounded he might
come up so near one of the outside ones as to give it a chance to go on
before he could recover from his surprise. Well, we had the outside
berth on the port side, and the mate of the _Two Cousins_ he had the
middle. The orders were to keep abreast in sailing down, and by easing
and trimming sheets, according as we went ahead or not, we managed to do
it pretty neatly. We had got down within two hundred and fifty yards of
the whale, when he began to swim ahead. He didn't seem to go very fast,
but he managed to keep us all about the same distance astern of him. All
of a sudden our boat-steerer says,
"'I know him!'
"'Get out!' says I; 'how can you know a whale?'
"'But I tell you I do,' says he, 'and if you had any sense you'd know
him too.'
"'How would I?' asks I.
"'Don't you see the harpoon sticking out of him?'
"I looked pretty hard, and, sure enough, there was a harpoon, with a
line drifting from it.
"'That's my iron!' says the boat-steerer.
"'Get out!' says I.
"'I won't,' says he.
"'How do you know it's yours?' says I.
"'Because I made it myself, and I know my own work even when I see it
afloat on a whale's back away off in longitude and latitude something or
other.'
"'Then it's the same whale!' says I.
"'Right!' says he. 'It's the whale I struck the other day, and which got
away because you went out and cut the line.'
"'It would be a pretty good joke on the whale,' says I, 'if we could get
close enough to him to catch hold of the end of the line.'
"'It would,' says he,' and we could begin again where we left off
yesterday.'
"'Shall we try it?' I asks.
"'Of course,' says he.
"'He's stopped swimming ahead,' says I.
"'Then we'll soon be close to him,' says he.
"'But if he don't swim ahead the end of the line'll sink,' says I.
"'And we'll go on and heave a new iron into him,' says he, 'and so we'll
get him anyway.'
"Well, we sailed on, and occasionally the whale would swim ahead a
little, and then again he'd stop, and we'd gain on him. By-and-by we got
pretty close, and the boat-steerer says:
"'Let's make a dash now and make fast to him with the new iron.'
"With that we got the oars out, and with a jump and a snort we sent the
light boat boiling ahead. Now in all my life I never saw anything quite
as smart as that particular whale. The minute we began to go ahead, so
did he. But we were so close that old Bacon, the boat-steerer, made up
his mind that we could catch him.
"'Pull hard, lads!' he says; 'pull hard! We're gaining on him at every
stroke.'
"And now it came to be a regular race between us and the whale, which
was altogether out of the nature of things. The whale, if he'd been
scared, ought to have sounded. We thought of that afterward, but we
didn't think of it then. The other boats' crews didn't think of it
either, for they were pulling hard too. But owing to the whale's
starboarding his helm a little we were much the nearest to him. All of a
sudden I happened to look over the side of the boat, and blow me if I
didn't see the end of the harpoon-line dragging along in the water!
Quick as a wink I let go of my oar and grabbed that line. The next
second I had it in the boat, and had a turn around the loggerhead.
"'We're fast!' says I.
"'Bully for you!' says Bacon.
"'Hurrah!' says the rest of the crew.
"Then Bacon he sort of half stood up and waved his cap to the other
boats, and pointed to the harpoon and line. They waved back at us and
laughed. Then Bacon says,
"'Now I'm fast I don't hardly know what to do, because the whale is just
as cool as though he'd never been struck.'
"At that minute, as luck would have it, the whale seemed to find out
what had happened, and he ups flukes and sounds. He didn't stay down
very long, and when he came up Bacon says,
"'Now's our time. We'll go right in and give him the lance.'
"We bent our backs to it and dashed the boat ahead; but it was not to be
our luck to kill just then, for just as Bacon stood up with the lance
the whale hove his tail into the air and brought it down on the water
with a report like a cannon. At the same instant he sounded again.
"'He's a regular demon!' says Bacon; 'but we'll get him yet.'
"In a few minutes he came up again and lay perfectly still. Once more we
pulled up on him, and Bacon got ready to throw the lance. Again the
whale sounded. Down, down he went till the line was all out. And then he
didn't stop.
"'Great Scott!' yells Bacon, 'he's trying to tow us under.'
"Without a second's hesitation he grabbed the axe and cut the line. It
was lucky he was so quick, for the bow of the boat had been pulled down
till the water was flowing over the gunwales. Another second and we'd
all have been in the water. Again the whale came up and lay perfectly
still, with the tantalizing harpoon fast in his back.
"'Now we'll not fool with that any more,' said Bacon, the boat-steerer,
'but we'll go on and put in a new iron.'
"'We made a good approach, and got up within heaving distance. Bacon
stood up, and was just going to let fly, when Mr. Whale went down again.
"'Well, that's the most exasperating brute I ever met,' says Bacon, 'and
I'll never leave him till I see him dead.'
"I don't suppose a whale down under the sea can hear what a man in a
boat says, and I guess he wouldn't understand it if he did; but that
whale acted as if he knew a heap. The first thing we knew, the
stroke-oar, who was leaning over the side of the boat, let out a yell
and dashed his oar into the water.
"'Pull for your lives!' says he."
[Illustration: SUDDENLY TWO GREAT WALLS SEEMED TO SHOOT UP OUT OF THE
OCEAN.]
"We didn't need any second invitation of that kind. We all dipped our
oars, but it was too late. Suddenly two great dark walls seemed to shoot
up out of the ocean, one on each side of the boat. The boat itself was
lifted bodily out of the water, bending and straining as if it was made
of straw. Looking over the sides, our blood just stood still at the
sight. The whale had come up under us straight up and down, as if he was
a-standing on his tail. He had opened his terrible cave of a mouth, and
had snatched the boat in it, and now he was holding the little vessel
and us in it a good fifteen feet above the water, while he sort of
rocked back and forward like a child playing with a doll.
"'Give him an iron in his beastly snout!' yelled one of the men.
"Too late; and it wouldn't have done any good anyhow. He moved his jaw a
little, and the sides of the boat bent in and creaked like paper. With
wild yells we all threw ourselves out of the boat, for in another minute
some of us would have been in his throat. He snapped his jaws together,
crunching the boat into kindling-wood. Then he threw himself end over
end, going down head first, and lashing out with his great flukes. Poor
Bill Johnson got a crack that broke one of his legs, and if it hadn't
been for Bacon, he'd have drowned. The other boats came dashing down to
our rescue, the boat of the first mate of the _Two Cousins_ leading the
way. She was nearest to us, and the mate was shouting words of
encouragement, when all of a sudden his cries changed to shouts of fear.
The next instant we saw the waters split wide open, and the whale came
up, back first, with a crash right under the boat. Boys, I hope I may
never see South Street again if he didn't drive the harpoon that was
still sticking in his back right through the bottom of her. There she
was pinned fast to his back.
"'Give him your lance'!' yells Bacon, who was swimming and holding up
Bill Johnson.
"'What! And be killed in his flurry?' shouted the mate. 'Not much!'
"With that he grabs the spars of his boat, throws them overboard, and
jumps after them, followed by all his crew. At the same instant the
whale lashed out with his flukes again and went down, taking the boat on
his back. This time, as good luck would have it, he didn't hit any one.
But we were all thoroughly terrified, for we knew now that the brute was
in a temper, and that he knew what he was doing. Meanwhile the ship was
bearing down on us, and we had hopes of being saved. The third boat,
too, was pulling up, but we had not much hopes of her, for we expected
to see the whale attack her. And, sure enough, he came up a few yards
away, without the mate's boat on his back, and waited for her. When she
was close to us he seemed to utter a snort as he plunged down and made
for her. The steerer of the boat was a cool hand, and he swung the boat
off with a powerful stroke just as the whale came up and tried to smash
her with his flukes. Curiously enough, the brute seemed to think he'd
done for her, for instead of coming back to take another shot, he
sounded, and we never saw anything more of him. Five minutes later we
were all safe in the third boat, and soon afterward we were aboard the
ship. But, I tell you, I don't care to have any more dealings with a
whale that's bent on revenge and seems to know just who it was that hit
him."
[Illustration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]
If the weather is fair next Saturday there ought to be some records
broken in the Interscholastic games, both at the Berkeley Oval and at
Eastern Park. The Oval's straightaway track is one of the fastest in the
country, and with the conditions in his favor Washburn should win the
100 in 10-2/5. Hall could take the event if he would train, but he seems
disinclined to put forth his greatest exertions, and so will probably
dispute second place with Moore. In the Juniors for the same distance
Wilson will pretty surely score five points for Barnard. Syme's injury
to his foot may prevent him from competing in any of the many events for
which he is entered, but if he recovers and gets into condition again
before Saturday he will doubtless be heard from in the 220 and the low
hurdles. He ought certainly to win the latter, with Harris behind him.
In the 220 Vom Baur will push his schoolmate, if he runs; but I should
not be surprised if Vom Baur staid out and reserved his strength for
other work. Wilson ought to win the Junior 220, if his first heat and
the two 100 heats don't tire him. Stratton will have a place. The
quarter-mile seems to be an easier riddle than most of the other events
on the card. Irwin-Martin will undoubtedly take first place, Syme second
(if he has recovered from the effects of his spiking), and Meehan third.
Another reasonable certainty is the high jump. Baltazzi is sure to take
the event for Harvard School, while Pell and Wenman will struggle for
second place, both being of about equal skill, with possibly a slight
advantage in favor of Pell. Irwin-Martin could win the half-mile if he
ran, but I do not think he will answer the call in this event. I
understand he will only enter the 440 and the hammer, and consequently
Pier may pretty safely be counted on to win, with Inman and Vom Baur in
the places.
[Illustration: BARNARD SCHOOL TRACK-ATHLETIC TEAM.
Winners of the N.Y.I.S. Championship in 1894.]
Tappen and Blair will have a chance to decide, in the presence of
competent judges, which one of them can run the fastest mile; and
although Blair deserved the prize at the Sachs games, I think Tappen
will lead in the interscholastics. The mile walk, in all probability,
will rest between Ware and Hackett; and if Powell can keep his seat in
the bicycle-race, the order in that event should be Powell, Ehrich,
Mortimer. But Powell may reasonably be counted on to slip or trip or
break something, and so Harvard School stands a chance of getting five
points there instead of three. Cowperthwait did 20 feet 4 in the broad
jump at the Trinity games, and ought to win the event Saturday; but
Beers will doubtless cover 20 feet; and I expect to see Batterman do
better than 19, with Pier close behind him. Between Batterman and
Irwin-Martin for the hammer it is hard to decide, but I am inclined to
give the preference to the former. He will have to do better than 106
feet to win, but I doubt if Irwin-Martin can throw 105. Ayers should
take third place, and he will doubtless get second in the shot, with
Bigelow ahead of him, and Batterman behind. The remaining events on the
programme are the pole-vault, which lies between Hurlbert and Simpson,
and throwing the baseball, which will be taken by Ayers. He will have to
better his last year's record of 325 feet, however, for Zizinia threw
330 feet in practice last week, and Elmer's arm is in good condition. It
looks now as if four schools were certain of scoring twenty points or
more each. These are Barnard, Berkeley, Harvard, and Cutler. Barnard's
chances of success will greatly depend on Syme's condition, for he is
their chief point-winner; and if he fails, then Berkeley will make a
strong bid for the championship.
At Eastern Park the performances will not be so good as at Berkeley
Oval, but several of the Long Island records will no doubt be
considerably bettered. The most promising candidates for the 100 are
Underhill and Stevenson. Litchfield is good at that distance, but he
will doubtless be reserved for the hurdles and the broad jump. In that
case Stevenson may be counted on to win. Stevenson will contest the 220
with Underhill and Jewell, and will probably take the 440. It will be a
hot struggle for the places among Goetting, Jewell, Foster, and Grace.
As the new rule shuts Bacchus out of the half-mile, Campbell, Bowden,
and Goldsborough will make a close race. If Bedford does not save
himself for the mile, he ought to be heard from; and he will undoubtedly
take the long-distance event, Romer and Beasly in the places. If Berger,
who won last year, is allowed to compete, he is a pretty sure winner for
the bicycle, and he will be followed closely by Roehr. Fomey ought to be
prominent in the pole vault, and if in condition, should win. Jewell and
Streeter will push him. Barker and Gunnison have been doing good work in
the high jump, but the event will probably go to Watt or Duval. I expect
to see Munson take the shot, with Badger and Milne in the places.
Herrick and Litchfield are the best men for the hurdles, and the latter
should easily win the broad jump. Munson and Bishop ought to rank second
and third. The Junior 100 will be decided among Richards, Rionda,
Robinson, and Liebman. These men are a good deal of an unknown quantity.
As the mile walk is a new event, no safe or just prediction can be made.
Some objection may be made by President Sykes, of the N.Y.I.S.A.A., to
Ehrich's riding in the bicycle-race Saturday, but Ehrich has just as
good a right to compete as any of the rest. If any protest is made it
will be based on the fact that Ehrich attended the College of the City
of New York last year, and as a member of the sub-Freshman class
competed in the Intercollegiate games last spring. But Section 2 of
Article X. of the constitution of the N.Y.I.S.A.A. expressly provides
that any boy having been a member of the sub-Freshman class at C.C.N.Y.
is not debarred from competing in games of the association provided he
is under age and a member of some school. This year Ehrich is at the
Harvard School. By riding in the Intercollegiates Ehrich classed himself
with college men, possibly without having any right to do so. That was a
question for the I.C.A.A. to settle last year. At the present time,
however, Ehrich is a _bona fide_ student at the Harvard school, he is
within the age limit required by the I.S.A.A., he has never "attended
any college," in the sense conveyed by the rules of the I.S.A.A., and he
has never been in business. It seems therefore that he should be
allowed to ride without protest, so long as there is no direct
legislation affecting the case.
Baseball is in a much more nourishing state of activity in New England
than it is in New York, although the N.Y.I.S.B.B. League games have been
under way here for two weeks or more. The championship season began in
Boston on April 25th, and will close on June 7th, when the Cambridge
High and Latin nine meets the English High-school team. The C.H. and L.
has held a leading position in the league ever since the organization
was started seven years ago, and the team has never finished lower than
in third place, and in four of the six seasons has taken the pennant.
This year the work of the players is well up to the standard set by
their predecessors, except that the batting is weak. The team work is
fair, and Stearns has good control of the ball, but little speed. The
English High-school also came into the league at the start, and has
played a close second to C.H. and L. ever since. Ward, who has been a
member of every football and baseball team since he entered school in
1891, has made an efficient Captain since the resignation of Dakin, and
will play in the box. He has speed and good curves, but he is liable to
lose control of the ball when touched up for consecutive hits. The
strength of the Roxbury Latin nine lies in Morse, the pitcher; but as
Captain Ewer is the only player left from last year, he will have all he
can do to mould his material for effective team work. Just at present
the Hopkinson team is weak. There is plenty of good material at hand,
however, and as Joe Upton, the old Harvard player, is coaching the boys,
it is possible that at the end of the season unexpected strength will be
developed. The Somerville High nine is somewhat of an unknown quantity
too. That school has always been unfortunate in interscholastic
athletics, never having finished higher than fourth place in baseball.
Last year every one expected to see S.H-S. win the series, after they
had defeated the Harvard Freshmen by a large score, but at the end of
the season Hopkinson was the only team in the league that had failed to
defeat them. As to the Boston Latin, there is a noticeable improvement
over the standard of former seasons, and if the students will only show
interest in baseball work, and support those who are striving to win
glory for them, such encouragement cannot fail to result in higher
achievements.
On the whole, the members and supporters of the N.E.I.S. Association
should feel well satisfied with the league's attainments. It has
certainly succeeded in the purpose for which it was formed--that is, to
train players for the Harvard 'Varsity nine. This year no less than
seven of the Crimson's players, including Captain Whittemore, are
graduates from the interscholastic ranks. Whittemore was a B.L.S. player
in 1891, and led the league in batting. On the several Harvard class
teams there is an aggregate of twenty-five or thirty men who got their
early experience in the league. To encourage sharp work in
interscholastic baseball the Boston A.A. has this year offered a silver
cup as a trophy to be played for during a term of five years.
Yale is just as much interested in interscholastic baseball in her
neighborhood as Harvard is in Boston and Cambridge, and in 1891 offered
to the Connecticut Interscholastic League a cup which was to stand for
three years, and which has now become the property of the Hartford
Public High-school by virtue of its successes in 1891, 1892, and 1894.
The Connecticut I.S. League has sent many prominent athletes to Yale,
some of the best known of whom are Corbin, who captained the '89 eleven;
Williams, who made the 15-4/5 seconds high-hurdle record at the Berkeley
Oval in '91; Cady, who is a star in the same event, but who failed to
come up to Yale's expectations in the international games with Oxford in
London last summer; and Gallaudet, who stroked the victorious crew at
New London in 1893. The field meeting of the Conn. High-school A.A. on
the Charter Oak track at Hartford next month promises to be one of the
most interesting contests of the interscholastic season.
In Brooklyn there is considerable dissatisfaction in certain quarters
over the recent ruling of the I.I.S.A.A., which debars from competition
in Saturday's games any student who ever attended collegiate exercises
at the Polytechnic Institute. Hitherto the law has always been against
any one who might have entered college and returned to school; but the
prohibition was never exercised against students of Poly. Prep., who,
from the nature of their preparatory work, took certain courses in the
collegiate department of the Institute. The new amendment specifies that
boys who do not spend twelve hours a week in school recitations, or who
have been in business or at college and have returned to school, shall
not be allowed to compete in scholastic events. Poly. Prep., the Latin
School, and Bryant & Strattons vigorously opposed the adoption of this
rule, because each one of them has candidates for interscholastic honors
who are affected by the new legislation. A moment's thought will show
that the question at issue is a very simple and a very clear one. A boy
is either at school or he is not. That is one of the elementary
propositions of logic. If he is at school, he should enjoy all
privileges in interscholastic athletics. If, on the other hand, he takes
certain courses at school and others at college, the determination of
his standing should rest on whether or not he enjoys, in other respects,
the privileges and advantages of a college man. If he is catalogued as a
collegian and is otherwise admitted to collegiate functions or
performances, he should be strictly excluded from everything scholastic.
Furthermore, if a boy has left school for business or for college, he
should not be allowed to compete in scholastic sports if he fails in his
attempts or ambitions and returns, whether to the original school or to
another. The new law will put a stop to this inducing of athletes to
attend certain institutions--a practice we hear a great deal about, but
the proof of which is difficult to obtain. Still, where there is so much
smoke there must be some fire, and, on the whole, I am inclined to
believe that the new rule will tend toward the purification of
interscholastic sport.
The severe rain-storm of April 13th served greatly to mar the success of
the first outdoor meeting of the season, held under the auspices of the
Columbia College Union. By the time the final heat in the bicycle was
due, the track was only lit for a boat-race, and consequently this event
was postponed. The field events were contested under difficulties, the
earth being so wet and soggy that creditable performances in the jumps
were of course impossible. I was surprised to see Simpson drop to third
in the pole-vault, but this weakness was undoubtedly due to the bad
weather. The feature of the Sachs School games on the 15th was the
inexperience of the judges. There being no referee it did not take long
for things to get pretty well muddled up. When the mile run was adjudged
to Tappen of Cutler's, there was plenty of loud talking. Tappen led to
the last lap, when he was passed by Blair of Barnard, whom he fouled.
Blair, nevertheless, beat him out, but the judges awarded the race to
Tappen. This decision caused a great deal of dissatisfaction, and no end
of disputing and protesting. The judges showed a certain amount of
indecision and lack of firmness, and the matter ended altogether
unsatisfactorily. The games, on the whole, were a perfect example of bad
management.
The Berkeley School games on the 20th offered no particularly notable
feature except in the matter of timing the winners. There was a strong
sentiment shown on the part of the officials to record the smallest
figures possible. Moeran was put down for 16-1/5, in the high hurdles. I
know he did not cover the distance in any such time, because I stood at
the finish line, and held my watch on him, and caught him at 16-3/5. In
most of the school games there is too much of a desire exhibited for
record-making, and the cry of "run for time!" is constantly heard. My
efficiency as a timer may be inferior, but it is certainly impartial. It
remains to be seen whether Powell can ride in 2 m. 32-2/5 sec. as he is
said to have done at the Cutler games on the 24th. His former record was
2 m. 36-4/5 secs.
The baseball championship series of the N.Y.I.S.B.B.A. began two weeks
ago, but I regret to chronicle a lack of general interest on the part
of the schools in the games thus far. It is too early yet to judge of
the relative strength of the various nines, but it looks as if the
strongest teams had been placed in the first section, and so the winner
of that series may safely be looked upon as the probable holder of the
championship for 1895. In Brooklyn there seems to be more enthusiasm in
baseball matters, and good work is being done. Poly. Prep. will
undoubtedly develop a strong team, and, under the captaincy of
Stevenson, ought to earn the privilege of representing the Long Island
League at Eastern Park, on June 8th, unless they succumb to St. Paul's,
Garden City. In Hall, the latter have a strong pitcher, and the fielding
of the entire team is good. St. Paul's, however, has no excuse for not
making a strong bid for first place.
It looks again this year, as if Exeter and Andover would allow their
childish differences to interfere with the annual baseball game which
used to be considered one of the most important events of New England
scholastic sport. Both schools may have had very good reason, at the
time the breach between them occurred, to sever temporarily all
relations. I don't care to enter into the merits of the controversy at
present. But to allow the squabbles of one generation of school-boys to
be handed down and cherished by succeeding classes--like a Kentucky
feud--is unmanly, and decidedly unsportsmanlike.
THE GRADUATE.
* * * * *
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[Illustration]
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[Illustration: Royal Baking Powder]
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[Illustration]
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[Illustration: BICYCLING]
This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the
Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject,
besides inquiries regarding the League of American Wheelmen, so
far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Bicycling
Department.
[Illustration: Map]
The map this week is a road map from New York city to Tarrytown, and
return. The reader will notice at the bottom of the Tarrytown route map
that the route begins at 155th Street and the Boulevard.
The best route now open to a wheelman is to turn, as described last
week, from Broadway into 181st Street, and go over a bad bit of road
until he reaches Washington Bridge (2). On crossing the bridge turn
sharply to the left and go down Featherbed Lane, which is anything but a
featherbed road. There is a short winding hill as the road turns
eastward into Macombs Dam road. The latter is in a somewhat better
condition than Featherbed Lane, but it is irregular, narrow, and hilly.
It is short, however, and the rider should turn into Fordham Landing
road sharp to the left, going down an incline until he reaches Sedgwick
Avenue. Here he turns to the right northward, follows Sedgwick Avenue
for a few hundred yards, and then takes the left-hand fork where
Sedgwick Avenue turns to the right. The left-hand fork is Bailey Avenue,
and a somewhat long hill may tempt him to coast. On the whole, it is
wiser not to do so, however, as there is an extremely bad piece of road
at the bottom, where it is wiser to dismount and walk two or three
hundred yards.
After this the wheelman takes the first important turn to the left, goes
down a sharp incline and across two railway tracks. This is a bad place,
and should be taken slowly and with great care. Immediately after
crossing the track he comes into the Kingsbridge road, which is the
turnpike road to Albany. This is macadamized and in excellent condition,
and the run from there into Yonkers is a delightful one. As he passes
Van Cortlandt Park there are three or four long slight ascents, which,
though they do not look in the distance to be very difficult, are so
long that I would advise him to take them slowly. He will know when he
is approaching Yonkers by striking the asphalt pavement, which runs into
the middle of the town. The road through Yonkers is direct, passing by
the main square of the town, where the Getty House is the best place to
stop, and where bicycles are repaired, though Yonkers is not by any
means half the Tarrytown trip. Nevertheless, a short stop may be made at
Yonkers and another at Dobbs Ferry, which roughly divides the journey
into three parts.
The road from Yonkers to Hastings is almost straight, and in capital
condition, as, indeed, is most of the road up to Tarrytown. About a mile
from the Getty House the wheelman passes through Glenwood. Two and a
half miles out of Glenwood he should turn to the left at the fork in the
road, and keep on one mile to Hastings. There is a piece of hilly road
before running into Hastings. On leaving Hastings he should keep to the
left and run into Dobbs Ferry, a half-mile distant. If the wheelman will
take the time and turn to the left as he enters the town, he will be
shown upon inquiry the house of Judge Beach (3), which is the same old
manor-house in which Washington signed the treaty of peace with Great
Britain in 1783.
Returning from Judge Beach's house to the main road again, the wheelman
passes north out of Dobbs Ferry, and after travelling a half-mile, turns
to the right, runs a quarter of a mile further and turns to the left,
and the road is then direct to Irvington. It will well pay him to take
the road following the valley down towards the Hudson westward, and stop
a moment to see "Sunnyside" (4), the home of Washington Irving. Pulling
back to the main road, again up a hill, the wheelman will find the road
from here to Tarrytown, about two miles in length, well supplied with
hills.
On running into Tarrytown and inquiring for the road to the station,
which runs westward downhill, a rider can put up at the Mott House near
the river. Three courses are then open to him. He may either take the
train back, if the ride has been sufficiently long already, or he may
return by the same road, or on going up to the turnpike-road again,
turning left northward, he will come after a few hundred yards to the
Andre monument (5), which every bicycle rider who reaches Tarrytown
should not fail to see. Turning back again southward, he may take the
alternative road back to Yonkers. He may then take the main turnpike,
which he passed over early in the day, or, following the alternative
road marked on the chart, may come down through Riverdale and the
villages along the bank of the Hudson, meeting the Kingsbridge road at
Kingsbridge again.
NOTE.--Already published. Map of New York city, No. 809.
[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.
"Tell you what books I read when I was a little girl?" Molly E---- asks
the question. Why, I am delighted to answer you, Molly. I am very fond
of the little girl I used to be a long time ago. I can see her now,
merrily going to school, day after day, along a river road bordered by
tall willow-trees, crossing a bridge, and reaching a pretty little
school-house, with windows giving on the pleasant life of a river, which
all the year round was beautiful in the children's eyes, and which is
very dear in their memories.
In those days an enchanter, whose name was Jacob Abbott, was writing
wonderful books for young people. None of you will ever have greater
enjoyment in the books written for you now than we girls of that
period had in the Rollo Books, in which Rollo and Lucy, and a pearl
of a hired man named Jonas, and Rollo's father and Rollo's mother,
played important parts. We ate and slept and travelled with Rollo,
we breathed his mountain air, we studied with him, and learned a
great deal about both nature and morals, without suspecting that we
were being taught. Abbott's histories, _Charlemagne_, _Napoleon_,
_Charles I._, _Josephine_, ever so many of them were on my bookshelf,
where I had, a little later, the Waverley Novels; nor shall I ever
forget the breathless pace at which I raced through Macaulay's _History
of England_.
When I was fifteen somebody gave me _Leatherstocking_ and _The Last of
the Mohicans_, and these introduced me to Cooper, whose stories I found
entertaining and full of a feeling of outdoor life. But for sheer
pleasure in a book there never was anything so lovely as the experience
I had, when about ten, in reading Mrs. Sherwood's stories. You girls do
not know much about them, but there were _The Fairchild Family_, and
_Little Henry and his Bearer_, and a thrilling tale, the name of which I
have forgotten, all about a very naughty girl who went to live with an
aunt, who spoiled her to such an extent that when she came home she
couldn't live in peace with her brothers and sisters, and led the whole
family, including her papa and mamma, a perfectly dreadful life. I
remember this story with a great deal of affection, and I think the
heroine's name was Caroline, but I am not sure. _Anna Ross_ was a book
of this period, and it was followed by _The Wide, Wide World_, a _dear_
story, which I hope many of you will read, for it is probably in all
your Sunday-school libraries. It was the work of Miss Susan Warner, who
wrote _Queechy_ and other equally excellent books for girls, after Ellen
Montgomery, her heroine in the first, had stolen our hearts.
I trust none of you will ever be so impolite as I was when I went to
visit my girl friends. I blush to think of it now, after so many years;
but, do you know, if they had a new book, I simply seized upon it, and
never stopped till I read it through, so that as a guest I was of no
use, never waking from my trance until I had finished the last page of
the treasure. Finally one of my friends, Jenny V. G., devised this plan,
and carried it out successfully: When she expected me to visit her for a
week, she living in the country and I in town, she simply _hid_ all the
books which she knew I had not read, and never brought them out till I
had gone home again.
You see, my dears, I was not a pattern for you to imitate. There was not
a paper in existence in my childhood worthy of being compared with the
Round Table; but at our school we wrote a weekly paper, contributed to
it ourselves, and made a half-dozen copies to pass around. I began being
an editor quite early in life.
[Illustration: Signature]
ADVERTISEMENTS.
Awarded
Highest Honors--World's Fair.
[Illustration: DR PRICE'S CREAM BAKING POWDER]
MOST PERFECT MADE.
A pure Grape Cream-of-Tartar Powder. Free from Ammonia, Alum, or any
other adulterant.
40 YEARS THE STANDARD.
Price Baking Powder Co., Chicago.
[Illustration: If afflicted with SORE EYES use Dr. ISAAC THOMPSON'S EYE
WATER]
[Illustration: POND'S EXTRACT]
Impressed on
the Memory
_that POND'S EXTRACT is without equal for relieving pain, and that no
other remedy should be accepted as "just as good."_
Avoid substitutes; accept genuine only with buff wrapper and yellow
label.
POND'S EXTRACT CO.
76 Fifth Avenue, N. Y.
The price has nothing to do with the
FIT
For ALL of Dr. Warner's Corsets are fitted to living models.
Prices from one to six dollars each.
* * * * *
Postage Stamps, &c.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
=STAMPS!= =300= fine mixed Victoria, Cape of G. H., India, Japan, etc.,
with fine Stamp Album, only =10c.= New 80 p. Price-list =free=. _Agents
wanted_ at =50%= commission. STANDARD STAMP CO., 4 Nicholson Place, St.
Louis, Mo. Old U.S. and Confederate Stamps bought.
STAMPS!
=160 VARIETIES=, many rare. 25c.; 500 Mixed Foreign, 16c.; 50 varieties
United States, 27c.; 6 Peru, 8c.; 8 Brazil, 10c.; 9 Chili, 10c.; 3
Samoa, 8c.; 6 Servia, 10c.; 6 Egypt, 8c.; 6 Persia, 20c.; 10 Greece,
10c.; 7 Turkey, 10c.
=Edwards, Peeke & Co.=, 2728 Calumet Ave., Chicago. Ill.
[Illustration: STAMPS]
100 all dif. Venezuela, Costa Rica, etc., only 10c.; 200 all dif. Hayti,
Hawaii, etc., only 50c. Ag'ts wanted at 50 per ct. com. List FREE!
=C. A. Stegmann=, 2722 Eads Av., St. Louis, Mo.
=50= var., all dif., 5c.; 12 var. Heligoland, 15c.; 6 var. Italy, 1858
to 1862, 5c.; 3 var. Hanover, 6c.; 35 var. C. American, 50c. Agents
wanted.
F. W. MILLER, 904 Olive St., St. Louis, Mo.
=$3 worth of stamps for $1.= All perfect specimens selected from
collection; cannot be bought for twice our price. Satisfaction
guaranteed or money refunded. Send $1 bill. =Old Colony Stamp Co.,
Plainville, Mass.=
=FREE!= =8 Handsome Japan Postage Stamps= for 2c.; 100 all different,
10c.; 100 mixed, 5c.
J. A. WILSON, 1108 Fairmount Ave., Phila.
=POSTAGE DUES.=--50c. and 30c., at 70c. each; the pair for $1.25.
=Diamond Stamp Co., Germantown, Pa.=
* * * * *
Varying Farm Life.
I live on a farm twenty-four miles from New York city, but am
fond, as you may see from my letter, of reaching out beyond the
farm and farm life and making inquiries about other things. I
collect stamps, and have some old coins, one, a 1720 piece, which
I found in the field one day while cultivating corn. I am sixteen
years old. Could you tell me how to make an induction coil for
taking shocks? Could you also tell me how to make a blow-pipe? I
am thinking of making an electric telegraph. Could you give me
some points on it? I have the Morse telegraph alphabet, but don't
understand it or know how to use it.
Here is a game to be played when there are many to play it. Each
one is provided with a slip of paper and a pencil. There are three
persons who are in the secret--a confederate, the clairvoyant, and
medium. Each one writes a word or short sentence on the paper. The
clairvoyant seats herself before the writers, and the medium rubs
her forehead with a handkerchief to put her in a trance. Then the
medium collects the papers, takes any one of them (except the
blank one, which must be left till last), and puts it on the
clairvoyant's forehead. She makes up a sentence, which sentence
must be claimed by the confederate, who really wrote nothing. Then
the clairvoyant takes it from her forehead to see if she was
right. Of course she reads it, and when the next paper is put on
her forehead relates what she read on the preceding slip, greatly
to the amusement and often the surprise of the writer.
Do you want some riddles?
H. A. KRETCHMAR.
WEST NYACK.
You cannot make an induction coil save at considerable expense, and even
then it is not as good as the one you may buy for less money. Apply to
any dealer in electrical supplies.
A blow-pipe is simply a small pipe or tube a few inches long and bent at
a right angle very near one end. Insert one end in your mouth, the bent
end in a gas or even lamp flame, and blow gently. The effect is a flame
many times hotter than the still flame.
You can make a telegraph key. Make a walnut or oak base four by eight
inches. Erect two uprights in the centre, one inch apart and two inches
high. Put between them a wood lever six inches long. In one end of the
lever insert a common screw, and from the base raise a metal contact--a
common nail will do--about two inches back of the uprights. Any metal
surface, as two brass buttons, will do for the screw and nail to "click"
against, a hand-pin may be made from the end of a common spool. This
key, of a good pattern, may be bought for $2, in brass. You can get
along without a "sounder." Get some practical operator to show you about
the alphabet. Do not try to learn it from instruction books. If you do
you will be sure to learn at the same time many faults. We want good
riddles--new, not old ones.
* * * * *
Costa Rican Country Life.
Costa Rica, or, translated into English, "rich coast," is the most
progressive of the Central American republics. The people are very
home-staying, that is, they do not like to travel, as do the
English and Americans. They all seem to like their country, and
rightly too, for there are few prettier lands or more delightful
climates. It is very mountainous, but not many very high peaks.
All the way from the port at Limon to San Jose, the capital, there
is grand scenery. Passing along on the train up a steep grade one
looks back and wonders how the road-builders ever got up. In some
places along on the mountain-sides, as the train passes, you can
pick ferns out of one window and out of the other can see the
valley far below, with little houses that look as if built for
dolls. In some of these places it is very dangerous, and the train
has to go very slowly.
Arriving in San Jose and just leaving the station you can see the
city lying below you. A little to the left, and at about the
middle, you can see the large round dome of the cathedral, and a
little way back the large red roof of the new theatre. To the
right lie the new school building and the Plaza de Toros. Entering
more into the city one is surprised and pleased at the numerous
pretty parks that are scattered all through it. San Jose is called
the "Little Paris," as here you can see the Spanish beauties
dressed in the latest Parisian styles. Sunday afternoon is the
time when the senoritas take a promenade in the Parque Central,
where the music is playing and all is gay.
Let us leave the city life and people and look at the poor folks
of the country, who toil that all these city people may be
comfortable. The average country people can neither read nor
write, because until quite a recent date schools have not been
general. Although they cannot read or write, most of them have
very intelligent faces, and are well informed about their
position. The houses of these people are very mean structures,
built of only rough boards lapped over and nailed. The roof is of
sugar-cane leaves, or, at the best, tiles made out of mud and clay
baked. Inside the houses there are rarely more than two rooms,
neither of them having other floor than the bare ground. The
cooking range is only a platform covered with sand. There are
three stones to set the kettles on. The smoke wanders off through
the roof or door, for as a rule there are no windows. The
furniture is not very extensive, and consists of a table and one
or two "taburetes" (chairs covered with the skin of an ox).
In every house you enter you will find some corner or shelf
whereon is placed some image or saint. The picture of their patron
saint is hung on the wall. The house is as free to the chickens,
pigs, and dogs as to the people themselves. The pigs run around,
picking up what can be found to eat on the floor, and then crawl
away under the bed or table and sleep the sleep of the--pig.
The people are generally strong and healthy. Their food consists,
year in and year out, of rice and frijoles (black beans), and the
great Costa Rican bread called tortilla. A tortilla is dried
hulled corn ground on a stone and made into a sort of pancake,
which is laid amongst the ashes and baked. When one has learned to
eat it, it is very good. The people are not such thieves as they
have been represented to be by many. To be sure, they will steal
food, eggs, vegetables, and firewood, but nothing more. I have
known a mill to be open for over three months, with valuable tools
lying around, but never a one missing. The people are very polite,
and when passing one in the road they always say adios (good-by),
or buenos dias (good-day). The men all carry a large knife
suspended at the belt, but it is for such use as we make of a pen
or pocket knife.
Sir L. E. TOWER.
SAN JOSE, COSTA RICA.
* * * * *
The Helping Hand.
A friend of the TABLE and of the School Fund wrote recently to Jules
Verne, telling him about Good Will Farm, and asking him for a letter to
be sold to that American admirer who would bid highest for it. The great
novelist readily responded, and the letter, wholly in Mr. Verne's own
hand, is now in our possession. Of course it is in French, but here is a
translation of it:
_March 27, 1895._
DEAR SIR,--I hasten to reply to your letter, which is inspired by
such a touching idea. I should be happy if these few lines, which
you request, could contribute, in some slight degree, to the
success of your charitable undertaking. I believe that I have in
your country many friends, unknown but sincere, judging from the
letters I receive. This will afford me an opportunity to pay my
tribute of gratitude to them, and I beg you to accept, with my
entire sympathy, the assurance of my sincere regard.
JULES VERNE.
The TABLE much appreciates the gentleman's kind act, and warmly thanks
him. The original of the letter is to be used in an exhibition of other
similar letters, and at the close of that exhibition will, with some
other rare manuscripts, including one by James Russell Lowell, kindly
given to the Fund by Professor Charles Eliot Norton, and original
letters by Sir Walter Scott, Victor Hugo, Alexander Hamilton, Charles
Dickens, William M. Thackeray, Louis XV. of France, and Emperor Napoleon
I. and others, all belonging to the Fund through the kindness of its
friends, be offered for sale to the highest bidders.
Our Fund grows slowly. Have you helped it along yet? We reprint the Mite
for your use. Any one of any age may contribute. Write plainly that no
errors may be made in the Honor Roll.
GOOD WILL MITE
HARPER'S ROUND TABLE
INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL FUND
_Amount_, $.....................
...............................
_Contributor._
If you use this Good Will Mite, simply pin it to your letter, in order
that it may be detached for filing. If the amount is given by more than
one contributor, add blank for their names, but attach the added sheet
firmly to the Mite, that it may not become detached and lost. Include a
given name in each case, and write plainly, to avoid errors on the Honor
Roll.
* * * * *
Want Corner.
John Frame, 926 Main Street, Stevens Point, Wis., wants to trade pressed
flowers and to correspond about botany. G. Edward Harrison, room 708,
Fidelity Building, Baltimore, is interested in amateur journalism and
wants samples. Similar requests are made by Claude Reno, 399 Chew
Street, Allentown, Pa., who wants to contribute essays and funny
paragraphs; and by F. R. Pyne, 717 Grove Street, Elizabeth. N. J., who
wants to join a Chapter that publishes a paper and that trades stamps.
Bert Segal sends money for a badge, but sends no address.
We should like to oblige Lantie V. Blum by telling the TABLE about his
store, but cannot well do so. Josephine Moulton Shaw sends a diagram
about the familiar bird-case and bird illusion. She also sends "Kink"
answers which are correct. She may write again.
[Illustration: STAMPS]
This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp collectors,
and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the
subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor
Stamp Department.
It is stated that Germany issued a special postal card to commemorate
the birthday of Bismarck. Some think the cards were issued by private
parties, as was the case of the Columbian cards issued at Chicago.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The new stamps of Mexico were given to the public on April 2d, there
being thirteen adhesives in the set, of which two are here illustrated.
Four of the designs represent the different modes of carrying the mail
in Mexico, and the other design shows the statue of Montezuma.
L. DORR.--The United States stamps of current issue break when
folded, because the paper is brittle. The thirty-cent State
Department stamp is sold at $4, the fifteen-cent Justice at $3.
JAMES EDMONDS.--The Confederate States 1862, ten cents, is sold at
$3, the others have no value.
EDWARD TATNALL.--The Hartford die of the United States Centennial
envelope has a double line under the word "Postage" The
Philadelphia die shows only a single line.
S. H.--The set of Columbian postal cards is sold for about fifty
cents.
E. P. TRIPP.--The blue Special Delivery stamp was brought out
again after the orange color was retired from use. It is the same
plate as formerly used, and is practically the same stamp as was
issued before the orange color.
A. S. S.--The stamps used at the period of the celebrated "Stamp
Act" were for the collection of revenue. The stamp dealers may be
able to supply them, but it is hardly probable.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
WALTER BAKER & CO.
[Illustration]
The Largest Manufacturers of
PURE, HIGH GRADE
COCOAS AND CHOCOLATES
On this Continent, have received
HIGHEST AWARDS
from the great
Industrial and Food
EXPOSITIONS
In Europe and America.
* * * * *
Unlike the Dutch Process, no Alkalies or other Chemicals or Dyes are
used in any of their preparations.
Their delicious BREAKFAST COCOA is absolutely pure and soluble, and
_costs less than one cent a cup_.
* * * * *
SOLD BY GROCERS EVERYWHERE.
* * * * *
WALTER BAKER & CO. DORCHESTER, MASS.
[Illustration: Ivory Soap]
Dingy carpets can be cleansed and brightened on the floor. Sweep
thoroughly, spread a stiff lather of Ivory Soap over a small surface at
a time, scrub with a clean scrubbing brush and wipe off with a damp
sponge.
THE PROCTER & GAMBLE CO., CIN'TI.
[Illustration]
Gallons for 25c.
Not of the preparations of coloring matter and essential oils so often
sold under the name of rootbeer, but of the purest, most delicious,
health-giving beverage possible to produce. One gallon of Hires' is
worth ten of the counterfeit kind. Suppose an imitation extract costs
five cents less than the genuine Hires; the same amount of sugar and
trouble is required; you save one cent a gallon, and--get an unhealthful
imitation in the end. Ask for HIRES and _get_ it.
[Illustration: Hires' Rootbeer]
THE CHAS. E. HIRES CO., Philadelphia.
HOOPING-COUGH
CROUP.
Roche's Herbal Embrocation.
The celebrated and effectual English Cure without internal medicine.
Proprietors, W. EDWARD & SON, Queen Victoria St., London, England.
Wholesale of
E. Fougera & Co., 30 North William St., N.Y.
_FALSE MUSTACHES and GOATEES._
[Illustration]
Fun for the boys, a complete disguise. Fine hair goods. As Sample of our
1000 Novelties, we send one of each with large Catalogue for l0c.
R. H. INGERSOLL & BRO., 65 CORTLANDT ST., N. Y. CITY.
WANTED. 100,000 BOYS,
to sell the =EUREKA MARKING TAG= for marking hats, etc., now and in
Summer vacation. Sells at sight. Send 10 cents in coin for samples.
Address =Eureka Marking Tag Co., Cedar Falls, Iowa=.
FISH
CATCH 10 TIMES AS MANY with CAPE COD COMPOUND; used for fresh or salt
water, put a little on your bait and it attracts fish quickly. We have
received hundreds of testimonials; $100.00 Guarantee that it is as we
claim, try a p'kge, will last all Summer. SURPRISE EVERYBODY by your big
catches. A 50 CENT PACKAGE will be sent postpaid for ONLY 10 CENTS,
(silver or st'ps) if you mention this paper. ARGO MFG. CO., Box 1207,
BOSTON, MASS.
[Illustration]
CARD PRINTER =FREE=
Sets any name in one minute; prints 500 cards an hour. YOU can make
money with it. A font of pretty type, also Indelible Ink, Type Holder,
Pads and Tweezers. Best Linen Marker; worth $1.00. Sample mailed FREE
for 10c. stamps for postage on outfit and large catalogue of 1000
Bargains.
R. H. Ingersoll & Bro., 65 Cortlandt St., N.Y. City
[Illustration]
=SEND for Catalogue= of the =Musical Instrument= you think of buying.
=Violins repaired= by the Cremona System. C. STORY, 26 Central St.,
Boston. Mass.
=BOYS & GIRLS= ARE MADE HAPPY by sending their name and address on a
postal card to BOORMAN & PARKER, 173 5th Ave., Chicago.
PLAYS
Dialogues, Speakers, for School. Club and Parlor. Catalogue free. =T. S.
DENISON=, Pub. Chicago, Ill.
[Illustration: If afflicted with SORE EYES use Dr ISAAC THOMPSON'S EYE
WATER]
[Illustration]
Commit to Memory
the best things in Prose and Poetry, always including good Songs and
Hymns. It is surprising how little good work of this kind seems to be
done in the Schools, if one must judge from the small number of people
who can repeat, without mistake or omission, as many as =Three= good
songs or hymns.
Clear, Sharp, Definite,
and accurate Memory work is a most excellent thing, whether in School or
out of it, among all ages and all classes. But let that which is so
learned be worth learning and worth retaining. The Franklin Square Song
Collection presents a large number of
Old and New Songs
and Hymns, in great variety and very carefully selected, comprising
Sixteen Hundred in the Eight Numbers thus far issued, together with much
choice and profitable Reading Matter relating to Music and Musicians. In
the complete and varied
Table of Contents,
which is sent free on application to the Publishers, there are found
dozens of the best things in the World, which are well worth committing
to memory; and they who know most of such good things, and appreciate
and enjoy them most, are really among the best educated people in any
country. They have the best result of Education. For above Contents,
with sample pages of Music, address
Harper & Brothers, New York.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: SISTER SUE'S DREAM ABOUT BROTHER TOMMY.]
AN IRON PLUM.
The London coster has become a very interesting character, and many
songs, and good ones too, have been written about his virtues and his
weaknesses. Some of these street venders have made fortunes, and have
retired to live the balance of their days in ease. One of these retired
gentlemen was interviewed not long ago by a London newspaper, and in the
course of the talk he showed how some of them had managed to grow rich
so speedily.
"The costers wot sold plums made the money," he said, "an' a bloomin'
big part of it came from wot they calls the iron plum. A fair take in
that was. You wouldn't have known it from a real 'un--colored just the
same, and with a good bloom on it. Course you took care to keep it close
at hand, and at your side of the heap you was selling from. 'Come and
have lumping weight,' says you, and you popped the iron 'un in among the
others, and wallop went the scale, with p'r'haps no more than half a
p'und instead of a p'und in.
"All you had to do was to take just one--the one, as being rather too
much of a good thing in the way of overweight, just as you were handing
the plums to the customer, and the trick was done. It was bowled out,
though, in a rum sort o' way before it had been in use long enough to do
any of 'em so much good. I had a pitch in Leather Lane at the time, and
it being plum season, I was working the bullet, as we used to call it,
and so was the woman who kept the stall next to me. There used to be a
beadle sort of chap to keep order in the lane, and he was always
uncommon handy at spotting the finest fruit on a man's barrow and
whipping it into his mouth without so much as asking for it. Course you
couldn't say anything against it, or you might set up his back against
you. So one day he was coming round as usual, and he spies that
particler fine black plum on the woman's stall, and before she could
prevent it he had hold of it. I s'pose it was her pouncing on him so
quick confused him, and prewented him feeling the extra weight of it.
'Don't take that 'un, Mr. Grabbum,' she said; 'it isn't ripe. Let me
pick you out a ripe 'un.' But old Grabbum he only grinned and winked,
and popped it into his mouth. But he didn't keep it there long. He made
one bite at it, and then he began to dance and splutter, which, being an
uncommon thing for a beadle to do, soon brought a crowd round him. But
it was wuss than we had first thought it was. We didn't know that the
greedy old warment had false teeth, but he had, and he broke 'em all to
shivereens along with the iron plum, which fell with such a whack on the
pavement that there was no mistaking what it was made for."
A SMALL BOY'S ANSWER.
At a country school in England it is said that one of the examiners in a
general exercise wrote the word "dozen" on the blackboard, and asked the
pupils to each write a sentence containing the word. He was somewhat
taken aback to find on one of the papers the following sentence, "I
dozen know my lesson."
A STUPID BUTLER
Spanish people seem to suffer from the stupidity of some of their
servants as much as we do in America, if the following story, which
appeared in a Madrid journal, is true. It seems that a lady ordered her
butler one morning to tell all visitors that she was not at home. At
night, when enumerating the persons who had called during the day, he
mentioned the lady's sister, when his mistress exclaimed: "I told you,
man, that I was always at home for my sister! You ought to have shown
her in."
Next day the lady went out to make a few calls, and during her absence
her sister came to the house.
"Is your mistress at home?" she asked the butler.
"Yes, madam," was his reply.
The lady went up stairs, and looked everywhere for her sister. On coming
down stairs she said to the butler, "My sister must have gone out, for I
could not find her."
"Yes, madam, she has gone out, but she told me last night that she was
always at home for you."
STRUCK TOO SOON.
Napoleon Bonaparte at one time contemplated an invasion of England, and
so certain was he of success that he had a medal struck in Paris in
honor of the event. Only one specimen has been left to posterity,
because at the failure of the bold enterprise he expressly ordered the
medals and dies to be destroyed. On one side is the Emperor's
half-length portrait, on the reverse is the image of Hercules stifling
the giant Antaeus in his arms. On the top are the words, "Descente en
Angleterre," and underneath, "Frappe a Londres" (Struck in London). This
remarkable bit of coinage is said to be still preserved in the Paris
Mint.
AN INDEPENDENT BARBER.
Here is an entertaining story about a Frenchman who was too proud to do
things which were against his principles. The story is vouched for as an
actual fact by the man to whom the incident happened. While travelling
in Europe he stopped overnight at Caen, and noting that his hair was
unduly long he went to have it cut by the local barber. He told the
barber to take off very little, but before the scissors had been at work
many seconds he noticed a favorite lock fall on to the calico jacket in
which he had been arrayed. Whereupon he reproved the barber for not
following his instructions, upon which the man observed, in mingled
tones of reproach and dismay,
"Monsieur must permit me to do my work in the way which seems best to
me; and what is more, I shall take off some more."
"Not at all," said the traveller; "I tell you I want very little taken
off, and must insist upon your doing as I direct you."
The barber, however, was not to be put down in this way, and said,
"Monsieur, it is possible that this is how things may be done in
England, but here in France we are not slaves. I shall cut off as much
as I please."
End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, May 7, 1895, by Various