CHAPTER XVI._Harper's Round Table, October 8, 1895

But Neal would not "give in." Cynthia's renewed entreaties were of no

more avail than they had been before.

"I will not come," he repeated again and again, and at last Cynthia gave

up asking.

He got out of the canoe just below the Oakleigh landing, and where he

was hidden from the house.

"I hope you won't be ill, Cynthia," he said. "I am sorry I made you come

out such a day; it will be my fault if you take cold. One more bad thing

I have done. My life isn't a bit of good, anyhow; I've a good mind to go

and drown myself-- I'm half drowned now."

He laughed somewhat bitterly, as he looked down at his drenched clothes.

"Cynthia, I'm a brute. Hurry in and change your things. I'm off to

Pelham; I'll take a train there for Boston. I'll let you know where I

go; and I say, Cynth, won't you write to a fellow now and then? I don't

deserve it, I know, but I'd like to hear from you, and I'll want to know

how Edith gets along."

"Yes, if you will let me know your address. Good-by, Neal," she said,

sadly.

"Good-by."

He stood and watched her. She rounded the curve where the boat-house

was, and waved her hand as she disappeared. She was only a few yards

away, and yet he could no longer see her. He could easily imagine how it

would all be.

A man would come down from the barn and help her with the canoe. She

would go up the hill and follow the path to the side door behind the

conservatory. There would be exclamations of dismay when she came in,

all dripping wet. Hester and the servants would hurry to help her, and

she would be thoroughly dried and warmed; his sister would see to

that--his sister, who thought him no better than a common thief!

And then Cynthia would tell how she had met him, and that he would not

come home. How astonished Hester would be to hear that he was so near!

He turned abruptly when he thought of this, and sprang up the bank to

the road that lay between Brenton and Pelham. He crossed the bridge, and

with one more look at the dark river, struck out at a good pace for

Pelham, the nearest railway station.

He glanced back once at the chimneys and white walls of Oakleigh when he

reached the spot from which they could be seen for the last time on the

Pelham road. Then, bidding good-by to his past life, he hastened on.

The road that runs from Brenton to Pelham is very straight after one has

passed Oakleigh. There are but few houses--nothing but meadows, trees,

and bushes on either side. Neal, tramping over the broad expanse of gray

mud, had nothing to distract his mind from the thoughts that filled it.

At first they were very desperate ones.

"Cynthia had no right to come and rant the way she did. The idea of

calling me a coward, and telling me I was like a boy in a dime novel

because I ran away! It was the only thing to do. They had no business to

suspect me. They-- Confound it! I won't put up with such treatment. I'll

stick to my resolution and drop the whole concern. What a long, straight

road this is, and how I hate the rain!"

At last he reached the end of it and entered the little town of Pelham,

uninteresting at the best of times, and doubly so on such a day as this.

The inhabitants were all within doors; not even a dog was stirring.

"Every one is dry and comfortable but me," thought Neal, miserably, as

he went into the station.

Fortunately, the next train for Boston was soon due, and it did not take

long for him to reach the friend's house in one of the suburbs at which

he had left his possessions.

A merry party was staying there for the Easter holidays, and Neal was

the subject of much speculation and concern when he appeared, weary and

wet, in their midst. Every one supposed that he had gone to Brenton to

visit his sister, and they wondered why he had come back on such a

stormy day.

Though the story of Neal was well known in Brenton, oddly enough it had

not yet reached his friends in Boston, and he did not enlighten them. He

went to his room and staid there for several hours. With dry clothes he

came into a better frame of mind.

Poor little Cynthia! How good she was to come to meet him such a day,

when she must have wanted to stay with Edith. And how badly she felt

about him; much more so than he deserved. He was not worth it. How she

had fired up when she told him that he was a coward! He must prove to

her that he was not. He would never give in and go back there, never!

But there were other ways of proving it; he could go to work and show

her that he was made of good stuff after all. He should not have

frightened Cynthia by saying that he would "go to the bad." But, then,

he had been abominably treated. He could not go to college now, for he

would never accept it from Hessie, who had been willing to believe he

took the money. He lashed himself into a fury again as he thought of it.

He was utterly unreasonable, but of course he was quite unconscious of

being so.

Finally the better thoughts came uppermost again, and he decided what to

do. He would go to Philadelphia and ask his guardian to put him in the

way of getting some work. He would tell him the whole story.

Fortunately, he did not remember that Cynthia had said her father went

to Philadelphia; if he had he would not have gone, thinking that his

guardian would have been prejudiced against him by his brother-in-law.

He packed his valise and started that night, though his friends urged

him to stay longer. He felt a feverish impatience to be off and have

things settled. With it was a feeling of excitement; he was going to

seek his fortune. Thrown upon a cold world by the unkind and unjust

suspicions of his nearest relatives, he would rise above adverse

circumstances and "ennoble fate by nobly bearing it!"

It was a very heroic martyr that bought a ticket for Philadelphia that

night.

He did not engage a berth in the sleeping-car; he was a poor man now and

must begin to economize. Besides, upon counting his money he found that

he had but just enough with which to reach his destination.

He was very tired with the adventures of the last two days, and the

night before, spent in a shed, had not been comfortable, so he slept

well, notwithstanding the fact that he was not in a Pullman sleeper. He

did not wake until it was broad daylight, and the train was speeding

along through New Jersey. The storm was over, the sun was shining down

upon a bright and rain-washed world, and Neal Gordon was entering upon a

new life.

"So this is the 'Quaker City,'" he thought, as the train glided over the

bridges and into the huge station. "I wonder if every one is in a

broad-brimmed hat! And now to find cousin William Carpenter. He's a

Quaker of the Quakers, I suppose; I can never get into the habit of

saying 'thee' and 'thou.'"

He did not see much of the Quaker element in the busy station, nor when

he went down stairs and out on to Broad Street. He was on the point of

jumping into a hansom to be driven to his cousin's house, when he

remembered that he had not a cent in his pocket with which to pay for

it. It was a novel experience for Neal.

He inquired the way to Arch Street, and found that it was not very far

from where he was, and he soon reached the designated number.

"Not a broad-brimmer have I seen yet," he said to himself, as he pulled

the bell-handle. He looked up and down the street while he waited. It

was wider than some that he had passed through, and rather quiet except

for the jingling horse-cars. It was very straight, and lined with red

brick houses with white marble steps and heavy wooden shutters.

He looked down, as he stood on the dazzling steps, at his boots splashed

with Boston mud, and he shuddered at the effect they might have on his

cousins. He should have had them cleaned at the station; but then he did

not have five cents to spend.

The door was opened, and he walked into the parlor and sent up his card.

It was a large room with very little furniture in it, and the few chairs

and sofas that there were stood stiffly apart. Not an ornament was to be

seen but a large clock that ticked slowly and sedately on the marble

mantel-piece. There were no curtains, but "Venetian blinds," formed of

green slats, hung at the windows. It all looked very neat and very bare,

and extremely stiff.

It was not long before Neal heard a step in the hall, and an elderly man

entered the room. He was very tall, and wore a long, quaint-looking coat

that flapped as he walked. His face was smooth, and of a calm, benign

expression that Neal afterwards found was never known to vary. He came

in with outstretched hand.

"Thee is Neal Gordon. I am pleased to meet thee again, cousin. Come up

stairs to breakfast; Rachel will be glad to see thee."

Who Rachel was Neal could not imagine, as he followed his host up a

short flight of stairs to the breakfast-room. He supposed she must be a

young daughter of the house, for although William Carpenter was both his

kinsman and his guardian, the relationship had until now been merely

nominal, and Neal knew very little about him or his family.

Sitting at the table, behind the tall silver urn and the cups and

saucers, was an old lady in a close white cap and spectacles. A snowy

kerchief of some fine white material was folded about her shoulders over

a gray dress. Her face, also, was calm and sweet, and wore the same

expression as did her husband's.

"Rachel," said he, "this is our cousin, Neal Gordon. Neal, this is my

wife, Rachel."

"I am glad to see thee, Neal," she said, extending her hand without

rising; "sit down. Thee'll be glad to have a cup of coffee, doubtless,

if thee's just arrived from the train, as thee has the look of doing."

This with a glance at his travel-stained clothes.

Neal, very conscious of his muddy boots, thanked her, and sat down at

the table, where a neat-looking servant had made ready a place for him.

It seemed funny that they took his arrival as a matter of course, but he

supposed that was the Quaker way. At any rate, they were very kind, and

it was the best breakfast he ever ate. Even if he had not been so

hungry, the coffee would have been delicious, and all the rest of it,

too.

His cousins asked him no questions, but after breakfast he was shown to

a room and told to make himself comfortable.

"But I would like to speak to you, sir," he said to his host--"that is,

if you don't mind. I came on to Philadelphia on business." This with a

rather grand air.

"Verily," said William Carpenter; "but I have no time now. I go to my

office every day at this hour. Thee can come with me if thee wishes, and

we will converse there."

Neal agreed, and hastily brushing his clothes and giving a dab to his

boots he set out, much amused at the new company in which he found

himself. Mr. Carpenter wore a tall beaver hat, of wide brim and ancient

shape, which he never removed from his head, even though he met one or

two ladies who bowed to him.

"They don't all seem to be Quakers, though," thought Neal, as, leaving

Arch Street, they took their way across the city, and met and passed

many people of as worldly an aspect as any to be seen in Boston--in

fact, his companion's broad-brimmed hat seemed sadly out of place.

The houses too were different in this locality. Easter flowers bloomed

in the windows between handsome curtains, and there were not so many

white shutters and marble steps--in fact, with a street band playing on

the corner and the merry peal of chimes that rang from a neighboring

steeple it seemed quite a gay little town, thought Neal, with

condescension.

His cousin pointed out the sights as they walked.

"There are the public buildings," he said, "and beyond is the great

store of John Wanamaker. This is Chestnut Street, and yonder is the

Mint. Thee will go there and to Independence Hall while thee is here,

and to Girard College, that is, if thee has a proper amount of public

spirit, as I hope to be the case."

Neal humbly acquiesced, and then remarked upon the distance of his

cousin's place of business from his house.

"Do you always walk?" he asked.

[Illustration: "I HOPE THEE IS NEITHER EXTRAVAGANT NOR LAZY?"]

"Always. I have found that exercise is good, and the car fare worth

saving. 'A penny saved is a penny gained,' I have made my motto through

life, and for that reason I have never known want. I hope thee is

neither extravagant nor lazy?"

This with a keen, shrewd, not unkindly glance from beneath the level

gray eyebrows.

Neal colored and hoped he was not, knowing all the time that these were

two serious faults of his.

They had passed through the fashionable part of the city, and were

walking down a narrow, low-built street. In the distance was a huge

space filled with great piles of boards that came far up above the high

fence which surrounded the whole square.

"This is my office," said Mr. Carpenter, as he opened the door of a

small low building in the corner of the great yard. "I am in the lumber

business."

It was some time before he could say any more to his cousin. There were

letters to be opened, his head clerk to be interviewed, men to be

directed.

Neal sat at a window that looked out on the yard, and watched some men

that were loading a huge dray. There were boards, boards, boards

everywhere. How tired he should get of lumber if he had to stay here! He

hoped that his business, whatever it might prove to be, would be more

exciting and more in the heart of things than this remote lumber-yard.

He thought from what he had heard that he would like to be a

stock-broker, as long as he was barred out of the professions by not

going through college.

He was just imagining himself on 'Change, in the midst of an eager crowd

of other successful brokers, a panic imminent, and he alone cool and

self-possessed, when his cousin's voice rudely interrupted his reverie.

It sounded calmer than ever in contrast to Neal's day-dream.

"Cousin, if thee will come into my private office I will listen to thee

for fifteen or twenty minutes."

Neal obeyed, but found it difficult to begin his story. It is a very

hard thing to tell a man that you are suspected of being a thief.

"I don't know whether you know," he began, rather haltingly, "that

I--that--in fact, I've left Hester for good and all. You are my

guardian, so you must know all about that conf--that abom--that--er--

well, that will of my grandmother's. Hester didn't give me a large

enough allowance--at least, I didn't think it was enough--and I got into

debt at school. It was not very much of a debt for a fellow with such a

rich sister."

He paused, rather taken aback by the quick glance that was shot at him

from the mild blue eyes of his Quaker cousin.

"What does thee call 'not much'?"

"A hundred dollars. I knew they would think it a lot, so I only told

Hessie and John fifty, and she gave it to me. Afterwards the fellow I

owed it to came down on me for the rest, and wrote to John, Hessie's

husband. In the mean time I had got hold of some money in a _perfectly

fair, honorable_ way, and sent it to the fellow, and he wrote again to

John Franklin and said I had paid up. Then, just because a present one

of the Franklin children expected at that time didn't come, they accused

me of taking it. They had no earthly reason for supposing it except that

I paid fifty dollars in gold for the money-order I sent, and the child's

present was fifty dollars in gold."

"And where did thee get the money?"

The question came so quietly and naturally that Neal was taken unawares,

and answered before he thought.

"Cynthia Franklin lent it to me. I hated to borrow of a girl, and I made

her promise not to tell; afterwards I was glad I had. If they choose to

suspect me, I'm not going to lower myself by explaining. And I will ask

you, as a particular favor, Cousin William, not to tell any one. I

didn't mean to mention it."

His cousin merely bowed, and asked him to continue.

"Well, there's not much more, except that I was suspended from school

before that for a scrape I wasn't in, and it put everybody against me,

and now I want to get something to do. I am going to support myself, and

I thought I'd come to you, as you're my guardian and a cousin, and

perhaps you would help me."

"Did thee know that thy brother-in-law, John Franklin, was here within a

few days?"

Neal sprang to his feet.

"He was! Then he told you all this. I might have known it!"

"Thee may as well remain calm, Neal. Thee will gain nothing in this

world by giving vent to undue excitement. John Franklin told me nothing,

except that thee had left his home, and he had supposed thee was with

me. He did not tell me of the gold, but he did say he feared thee was

extravagant, in which I agreed with him. Thee has nothing to find fault

with in what he said."

Neal felt rather ashamed of himself. After all, it had been generous in

his brother-in-law not to prejudice his guardian against him.

"And now what does thee wish to do?" asked the old man, as he looked at

his large gold-faced watch.

"I want to get some work," replied Neal.

"Is thee willing to take anything thee can get?"

"Yes, almost anything," with a hasty glance at the piles of lumber

without.

"Does thee know that times are hard, and it is almost impossible for

even young men of experience to get a situation, while thee is but a

boy?"

"Ye-es. I suppose so."

"Thee need not expect much salary."

"No, only enough to live on. I'm going to be very economical."

William Carpenter smiled, and looked at the boy kindly. He was silent

for a few minutes, and then he said:

"Neal, as thee is my ward and also my cousin, I am willing to make a

place for thee here. We can give thee but a small stipend, but it is

better than nothing for one who is anxious for work, as thee says thee

is. Thee will not have board and lodging to pay for, however, as thee

can make thy home with Rachel and myself. Our boy, had he lived, would

have been about thy age."

This was said calmly, with no suspicion of emotion. It was simply the

statement of a fact.

"Oh, thank you, cousin William, you are very kind! But--do you think I

could ever learn the lumber business? It--it seems so--well, I don't

exactly see what there is to do."

"Thee is too hasty, by far. Thee could not be expected to know the

business before thee has set foot in the yard. But thee must learn first

that it is well to make the most of every opportunity that comes to

hand. Will thee, or will thee not, come into my home and my employ? It

is the best I can do for thee."

And after a moment's hesitation, and one wild regret for the lost

pleasures of the Stock Exchange, Neal agreed to do it.

It was thus he began his business life.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

* * * * *

It is enjoyable to read a good story of the biter being bitten, and the

following one may not be amiss:

A class of students, holding a grudge against one of the professors,

tied a live goose to his chair. Upon entering the room the professor saw

the goose, and calmly walking up to the desk, addressed the class as

follows:

"Gentlemen, as you have succeeded in getting an instructor so much

better qualified to direct the bent of your ideas, I beg you will pardon

me for resigning the chair."

[Illustration: A BALLAD OF THE "CONSTITUTION"]

BY ROWAN STEVENS.

_This is the tale that was told to me

_By a man with a tarry queue,

_Who sat with a spy-glass in his hand,

And gazed on the waters blue;

His hair was white, but his eye was bright,

And straight was his ancient form,

And his brown old face bore many a trace

Of the battle and the storm._

Ay, she was a ship! She showed her heels

To the swiftest of them all;

She weathered many a raging gale

And many a roaring squall.

And he--our Captain--of all the men

That ever sailed the sea,

There was never a one like Isaac Hull

To handle a ship, said we.

It was in one pleasant summer-time

That the _Constitution_ lay

A cable's length from an English ship

In the bight of Lisbon Bay.

Between that British crew and us

The looks were grim and glum,

For we thought of the war a few years back,

And hoped for a war to come.

The officers, though, were friendly still;

They'd meet some day in war,

And they knew they'd show their mettle then

As they'd shown it well before.

Yes, even the Captains, they were chums--

Our own old Do-and-Dare

And Dacres of that royal ship,

The saucy _Guerriere_.

And many and many a time I've seen

The two walk down the quay

With their yard-arms locked and their chapeaus cocked,

To gaze on the ships at sea.

But Dacres turned to Hull one day

And said: "They'd make a rare

And even stand-up single fight,

Those two ships lying there.

Now what say you--if the war does come,

As I think right well it may.

And the _Constitution_ and _Guerriere_

Should meet in single fray,

I'll bet you a hundred pounds or so--

A thousand, if you like--

The _Constitution_ that blessed day

Will run or sink or strike."

But Hull said: "I am too poor a man

To bet a sum like that.

Yet just for the sake of the stand you take

I'll wager, say, a hat."

The Captains laughed as the bet was made,

And the ships soon sailed away

From their peaceful, pleasant anchorage

In the bight of Lisbon Bay.

II.

The trouble came, as we knew it would,

And a joyous crew were we

When we said good-by to the old home port

And weighed for a cruise at sea,

For the Press Gang and the Search Eight

We had vowed to bear no more,

And we bade farewell to parley,

And welcome we bade to war.

[Illustration: FOR MANY A MILE WE SAILED.]

Along the grim New England coast

For many a mile we sailed,

And ever a sharp lookout we kept,

But never a ship we hailed,

Till five days out, in the first dog-watch,

We sighted a fleet of four

Big fighting ships that made quick sail,

And down upon us bore.

From their lofty yards and bending masts

The bellying canvas blew,

And at the mizzen-peak of each

The English ensign flew.

"We can't fight too many odds," said Hull,

"But ere the day be done

We'll show how a well-manned Yankee ship

Can lift up her heels and run."

Then we called all hands and we made all sail,

And slowly drew away

From the English vessels that followed us

So sure of an easy prey.

But the winds were light and variable,

Calm fell and all moved slow,

The crowded boats of the English fleet

Took the leading ship in tow.

I stood by the wheel with a glass and saw

That ship come creeping on,

And my heart was in my throat awhile,

For I thought that we were gone.

And the leading ship full well I knew,

The saucy _Guerriere_,

And Dacres stood in her port fore chains

With a confident, eager air.

And I felt despair for our gallant crew,

And woe for our gallant bark,

When a long cry came from the leadsman's lip--

"Thirty fathom, by the mark!"

Then a smile there came to the Captain's face,

And a light to the Captain's eye,

And he sent his kedges out ahead,

And we made the capstan fly;

We wet the sails down, fore and aft,

We jumped at the bo's'n's call,

We pumped out water for lightness' sake.

And stood by davit and fall;

As every little catspaw came

We worked for the weather-gage,

[Illustration: AND WE KEPT THOSE FELLOWS ALEE, ASTERN.]

And we kept those fellows alee, astern,

And in an awful rage.

For three long days and three long nights

They held us well, and then

A squall came up in a thunder-cloud,

And we fooled those Englishmen.

For they, as its ominous frown they saw,

Stripped down to the bare, bare mast.

While we held on with our topsails full

To the teeth of the rising blast;

And, as it struck us, we shortened sail

At the Captain's quick command.

But as soon as the full of its weight we felt

We gave her all she'd stand;

And merrily, merrily off we ran.

And ere the day was done

We had left them all clean out of sight

In the wake of the setting sun.

And Hull looked 'round the quarter-deck,

And forward he looked, and aft,

And he looked astern at the blank blue sea,

And he looked at the sky--and laughed.

III.

And on through, the summer seas we bore,

Until off stern Cape Clear

Our ship fell in with a sloop-o'-war,

A Yankee privateer.

We hailed for news, and the sloop hove to,

And off her skipper came

And boarded us in a leaky yawl,

With his wrathful cheek aflame;

For "Down to the south'ard he'd been chased

By a powerful English ship

That was just too slow for his flying heels,

And just too big to whip."

We sent him back with a cheerful heart,

And down to the south we swept.

And a sharp lookout o'er the vacant sea

Alow and aloft we kept.

One August evening we bowled along

In a fresh nor'wester breeze,

The rigging sung as along we swung,

And rough were the tumbling seas.

And I was sitting with pipe in hand

Enjoying my watch below,

When the masthead lookout hailed the deck

With a loud and long, "Sail, ho!"

"Now, where away?" the Captain cried,

And into the shrouds sprang we

To gaze at a speck in the distance dim,

Clear white on the blue, blue sea.

She stood along under easy sail,

She made us out and tacked,

She waited there with her headsails full,

And her big maintopsail backed.

We picked her up hand over hand,

We made her colors out--

That proud St. George's Cross we knew,

And we longed for the coming hour.

And Hull sang out, "To quarters, men,

For the foe we seek is there,

By the look of her lines and the cut of her jib

I know the _Guerriere_!"

We shortened sail and for action cleared,

The flags to the breeze we threw,

And at each masthead and the mizzen-peak

The Yankee colors flew.

Up in the tops the topmen lay

With musket and grenade,

But down in the gloamy holds below

The battle-lanterns played.

Stripped to the waist each sailor stood,

His cutlass in his hand,

His long dirk loosened in its sheath,

His feet in the scattered sand;

The gunnels stood beside the guns,

Their matches all aglow,

With their ears bent back to the quarter-deck,

And their eyes upon the foe.

As onward to the _Guerriere_

The _Constitution_ swept,

Between the lines of brawny tars

Our first Lieutenant stepped:

"To save you all from the press, my lads,

For that we make the war,

And each must fight for the flag to-day

As he never fought before."

Then up spoke one of the gunner's mates,

A grim old man was he,

Who'd met the French and the Algerines

In many a fight at sea,

Whose cheek was rough with a hundred storms,

And brown with a hundred suns:

"If the quarter-deck will mind the flag,

Why, we will mind the guns."

Oh, sweet to see was the English ship,

As up in the wind she came,

With her rigging silhouetted out

Against the skies aflame.

Sudden she yawed, and from her bows

A puff of smoke there blew,

And, hurrying over their lofty arch,

The plunging missiles flew,

And each of us gripped his cutlass tight,

And each his muscles set,

And each looked hard at the long bow-guns,

But the Captain said, "Not yet."

Closer and closer drew the foe,

Her shot flew thick and fast,

And, singing around our heads, a storm

Of musket-bullets passed.

We drew well up on her weather-beam,

And the roar of her guns rose higher,

And we saw her gunner's matches gleam,

And the Captain shouted, "Fire!"

With flash on flash, with a thunder crash,

Rang out our red broadside,

And the splinters broke from her sides of oak,

And scattered far and wide.

The smoke rose up to the high dim trucks,

As the battle fury spread,

But the men stood true, and the flags still flew,

In the mist at each masthead.

Deadly and fierce was the fire we poured

Upon our sturdy foe,

And a cheer we roared as by the board

We saw her mizzen go.

Then around in the dying breeze she swung,

And her bowsprit loomed o'erhead,

And fouled in our mizzen shrouds she hung.

And the battle lightning spread;

We heard the splinters fly below,

Where her 32-pounders played,

And the cabin was filled with smoke and flame

From her furious cannonade.

Then, long dirk ready and cutlass keen,

Up, up to her side we start,

But a breeze blows over the darkening sea

And swings the ships apart;

But readily 'round in the wind we go,

And steadily on we fall.

With grape and shrapnel and solid shot,

And pattering musket-ball.

And over her bows in the dusk we draw,

While our terrible broadsides peal,

And her lingering rolls the gaping holes

In her shattered hull reveal.

Her sides we rend, our shot we send

Through shroud and spar and stay.

Till her main and fore with a crashing roar

Plunge down to the spouting spray.

[Illustration: THE FIGHT IS DONE AND THE DAY IS WON.]

The fight is done and the day is won,

For a burning wreck is she,

[Illustration: HER DECKS WERE RED WITH HER GALLANT DEAD.]

But her decks are red with her gallant dead,

And never a cheer cheer we.

And over our side comes Dacres then,

Our brave but conquered foe;

He passes on by the silent men,

And his head is hanging low.

He gains the deck, and he holds to Hull

The hilt of his gallant brand,

But the Captain waves the sword aside

And takes him by the hand:

"The true, true sword of a true, true man

Shall stay his own for ay,

But a hat I'll take when the land we make,

For the bet at Lisbon Bay."

And up in the quiet sky the stars

Came twinkling one by one,

And over the quiet sea the moon

In silver sweetness shone.

Our sails were white in the peaceful light

As westward did we bear,

And a fiery shine on the dim sea-line

Was the last of the _Guerriere_.

And here's to the skipper!--of all the men

That ever sailed the sea

There was never a one like Isaac Hull

To handle a ship, said we.

_And that is the tale that was told to me

By the man with the tarry queue,

Who sat with a spy-glass in his hand,

And gazed on the waters blue;

His hair was white, but his eye was bright,

And straight was his ancient form,

And his brown old face bore many a trace

Of the battle and the storm._

TODDLETUMS HAS A DREAM.

"Oh, papa, I had a bully dream last night. Want to hear about it?"

"Why, yes, Toddletums. Let's hear what it was."

"Dreamt I was dead, and playing baseball among the stars."

"Well, Toddletums, I am sorry to hear you speak of that as a 'bully

dream.'"

"But it was, papa. I was no more than dead when I got among a lot of

spirits, big fellows all dressed in white, and they knowed right away

'bout my being the best catcher on the Rangtown nine, so the first thing

they said was, 'Hurray! here's our great catcher at last,' and before I

knew it I was catching back of one of those big white fellows, and, what

do you think, he was using the tail of a comet for a bat. 'Way off in

the distance (say, they have awful big diamonds up there) was another

fellow pitching, and all he did was to pluck one of the stars out of the

Milky Way and throw it at me for a baseball. Say, papa, you've seen

those falling stars? Well, they say they're meteors. Now that's

nonsense, 'cause they're the balls the catchers up there misses.

"By-and-by our side (that's the Comets, you know) got in, and the score

stood 16 to 0 in favor of the Milky Ways. By-and-by it was my turn at

the bat, and I felt kind of afraid, 'cause the comet's tail looked awful

bright, but I seized it and swung it round two or three times, and it

didn't burn a bit. 'One ball!' cried the umpire as the pitcher sent a

star singing past me (and it wasn't fair, either,'cause they pitched it

when I was trying the bat). I braced myself for the next one, and then

that pitcher thought he'd fool me. Making out to snatch a ball from the

Milky Way, he turned around, and, reaching 'way out, what do you think

he did? Why, he grabbed our world, that we're living on, and threw it at

me with all his might. Well, they couldn't knock out the Rangtown

catcher that way, for I just swung the bat around, and hit the old world

an awful crack. I bursted that comet bat all to pieces and hit a foul. I

looked up, and there was the world a-comin' right down into my hands. It

was a fine chance, and I couldn't let it pass, and I just caught it.

"All those fellows began yelling 'foul!' and then I woke up. And, papa,

what do you think? I had fallen out of bed, but I had a bully time,

though."

[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.

"Do write a Pudding Stick about table manners." Why, of course, dear

Molly, I will, if you wish it, especially as you say you speak for the

girls of your Round Table Chapter. I wish you would imitate Molly, and

often suggest the topics you like best--you young people of the Round

Table Order.

There is nothing very puzzling about the etiquette of the table. One who

knows how to behave elsewhere knows how to behave at the table. The

chief thing to be remembered is that good manners everywhere rest on a

strong foundation of common-sense and kind feeling, and that nobody is

clumsy or awkward who is free from self-consciousness. If one is

thinking of herself and of the sort of impression she is making, she

will be likely to blunder. You must dismiss yourself from your mind.

"But what bothers me," says Ruth, "is the fact that there is no fixed

rule about what to do, and what not to do. Which is right, to take my

soup-plate from the waitress, or to let her take my empty plate and set

the filled plate in its place herself? And in some houses you are helped

to salad, and in others you have to help yourself when it is handed to

you. Is it rude to ask for a second helping of something you like? or,

when you decline a thing, is it proper to explain that you like it, but

it does not agree with you?"

As to the last of these little worries, my dear child, never do that.

Never tell your hostess or your friends that lobster gives you cramps,

and stuffed olives produce heart-burn, and pastry causes dyspepsia. It

is in the worst taste imaginable to speak of these effects, and wholly

needless. You may always pass over or decline a dish of which you are

not desirous of partaking. It is usually right to ask for a second

helping of some viand which pleases you, and your hostess will consider

herself complimented by your doing this; but the exception is, when the

meal is a formal one of numerous courses, and when you are doing so

would retard the orderly progress of the meal. In doubt about any little

detail, look to your hostess and follow her example. The waitress is

trained to certain ways, and she will do as she is accustomed to; you

have therefore no responsibility.

In talking at the table, if the company is large, you will usually

converse more with your neighbor than with the circle as a whole. But at

home and in the family, or at the house of an intimate friend, you must

do your share of the entertainment. Save up the bright little story and

the witty speech, the funny sayings of a child, the scrap of news in

your Aunt Mary's last letter, and when a good opportunity offers, add

your mite to the general fund of amusement.

There are dear old gentlemen--and old ladies too--who have favorite

stories which they are rather fond of telling. People in their own

families, or among their very intimate acquaintances, hear these stories

more than once--indeed, they sometimes hear them till they become very

familiar. Good manners forbid any showing of this, any look of

impatience or appearance of boredom on the part of the listener. The

really well-bred woman or girl listens to the thrice-told tale, the

well-worn anecdote, says a pleasant word, smiles, forgets that she has

heard it before, and does not allow the dear _raconteur_ to fancy that

the story is being brought out too often. Good manners at the table are

inflexible on this point. You must appear pleased. You must give

pleasure to others. You must make up your mind to receive gratification

by imparting it.

Once in a while an accident happens at a meal. A cup is overturned; some

unhappy person swallows "the wrong way"; somebody makes a mistake. Look

at your plate at such a moment, and nowhere else, unless you can

sufficiently control your face and appear entirely unconscious that

anything has occurred out of the usual routine. Take no notice, and go

on with the conversation, and in a second the incident will have been

forgotten by every one.

[Illustration: Signature]

ON BOARD THE ARK.

BY ALBERT LEE.

CHAPTER X.

Tommy stared for some minutes at the antics of the Ibexes, and then

turned to the ex-Pirate.

"How very odd!" he remarked.

"Very," assented the other. "Aren't you beginning to feel sort of

queer?"

"I don't notice any motion at all," replied Tommy.

"I don't mean _that_," said the ex-Pirate, looking reproachfully at the

little boy. "But, personally, I am beginning to become affected by all

these animals. I almost feel as though I could become a second

Abou-Ben-Din."

"A second Abou-Ben-Din?"

"Yes," continued the ex-Pirate, scarcely noticing the interruption. "But

I hardly think it would pay. I doubt if there are any other craft

hereabouts."

"What are you mumbling about, anyway?" asked Tommy.

"I was not mumbling at all. I was thinking of Abou-Ben-Din. _There_ was

a pirate for you!"

"I never heard of Abou-Ben-Din," said Tommy. "I've read about Captain

Kidd and the Dey of Algiers, and lots of others--but that's all."

"Well, if you had allowed me to read the first sixteen chapters of my

autobiography," exclaimed the ex-Pirate, becoming somewhat excited, as

he always did when the subject of his autobiography came up, "you would

have known all about Abou-Ben-Din by this time. He was a Hindoo."

"But can't you tell me about him now, just as well?" pleaded the little

boy, anxious to get another pirate story.

"I might," answered the ex-Pirate, meditatively. "I might. It is a

favorite story of mine, but I don't think this is very good company to

tell it in."

"Why is not it?"

But before the ex-Pirate could answer, the Lion arose and roared so

fiercely that the rafters shook, and many of the birds fell from their

perches.

"What does this mean?" he growled. "What does all this skylarking

signify?"

"I'm not doing anything," put in the Skylark.

"Shut up," continued the Lion, even more fiercely. "This banquet has not

been adjourned yet. Why are so many of you standing and running about?

Everybody sit down! I want you to understand that this is a continuous

performance--booked for forty days and forty nights--and if some one

does not perform pretty soon, I'll take a hand in the entertainment

myself!"

Everybody knew what that meant. There was only one kind of entertainment

that the Lion knew anything about, and that was eating. He was very good

at that, and he cast his eyes about on the smaller animals gathered at

the board. But the warning was sufficient; there was a grand rush for

seats again, and a general inclination to be entertaining was displayed

by all. Tommy and his companions got their old places, but the Gopher

was so frightened that he retained his seat with difficulty, and he

trembled so that he was unable to keep his sun-bonnet on straight.

In the mean time the Lion was scowling and waiting for some one to

volunteer. His eyes fell on the shaking Gopher, and he said, grimly,

"Don't you know another joke?"

The poor little animal almost fainted with fright, and for lack of a

better inspiration he pointed at the ex-Pirate and gasped,

"_He_ knows _lots_ of things!"

And so the King of Beasts, who was rapidly losing patience, glared at

the ex-Pirate and roared,

"Do something!"

The ex-Pirate hesitated; but Tommy, who was not feeling at all

comfortable, whispered:

"Give them Abou-Ben-Din!"

"That's a pretty risky thing to do," answered his neighbor; "but I guess

I shall have to. I can't think of anything else." And so he arose in his

customary way, and bowing to all, announced that he would recite another

selection from his autobiography entitled,

THE BALLAD OF ABOU-BEN-DIN.

_Oh, there's many a tale that I like to tell,

And many a yarn to spin,

But there's none I love one-half so well

As the story of Abou-Ben-Din._

For Abou-Ben-Din was a terrible man,

A blood-thirsty wretch through and through;

A pirate on quite an original plan,

And he captained a terrible crew.

Not a _man_ did he have on his swift-sailing craft,

But a hundred and ten wild beasts,

That snarled on the deck while Abou stood aft,

And steered them toward movable feasts.

For all day the brutes, with eyes opened wide,

Would eagerly watch for a sail,

And as soon as their vessel was brought alongside

They would swarm like rats o'er the rail.

Then after the lions and tigers had dined,

Old Abou would visit the ship.

To collect all the booty and goods he could find

Then drive his beasts back with a whip.

Thus it soon came to pass that the sailors were few

Who would sail in the India Seas,

Where Abou-Ben-Din and his man eating crew

Were eager and ready to seize.

But _I_ was no coward, and none of my crew

Had ever been known to show fear;

So I said, "We will capture this nautical Zoo;

Toward Abou-Ben-Din let us steer!"

The men all agreed, and we started that day

With cheering and waving of caps;

And down in the hold I had hidden away

A hundred and fifty steel traps.

These were brought up on deck as soon as we spied

Old Abou-Ben-Din and his ship,

And were set and all covered with sawdust to hide

The teeth that were ready to grip.

Then the men went below and closed down the hatch,

While I clambered up on the mast,

Where, safe from the lions, 'twas easy to watch

What happened from first to the last.

Well, the pirate approached. He came alongside.

And the beasts all scrambled aboard;

And I never have heard such cries as they cried,

Or such terrible roars as they roared.

Each lion was caught, and he couldn't get free,

Each trap held an animal fast;

And the way that they struggled was fearful to see--

And _I_ saw it all from the mast.

But Abou-Ben-Din merely gazed in dismay,

And when he knew what had occurred,

He plunged in the sea, and sank straightaway,

Without ever speaking a word.

_Ay, there's many a tale that I like to tell,

And many a yarn to spin,

But there's none I love one-half so well

As the story of Abou-Ben-Din!_

There was a dead silence when the ex-Pirate finished his recital, and

Tommy noticed that the lions and tigers were shifting about restlessly

in their chairs. He turned quickly to the Gopher, and said in low tones,

"They don't seem to like it."

"I'm afraid it _was_ a trifle personal," answered the Gopher.

"Perhaps we had better retire," suggested the ex-Pirate, prudently.

"Where can we go?" asked Tommy.

"You can go to the dogs," said the Gopher.

"You must not talk like that," observed Tommy, sharply. He had heard his

Uncle Dick use that expression before, and it shocked him a little.

"Why not?" exclaimed the Gopher. "The dogs are all right, even if they

are down below. They might be of some assistance to us if the lions get

ugly."

"Oh!" exclaimed the little boy, but before he could say any more the

Lion coughed very fiercely, and spoke to the ex-Pirate.

"How many lions and tigers did you say there were on board of that

ship?"

"About a hundred and ten, I reckon," answered the ex-Pirate.

"One hundred and ten," repeated the Lion, slowly. "And you gathered them

all in?"

"We did. Every single one." The ex-Pirate's recklessness staggered Tommy

and the Gopher. Then the Lion growled:

[Illustration: THE EX-PIRATE JUMPED UPON THE TABLE AND FIRED.]

"That being the case, I think I shall have to gather _you_ in." And he

arose, followed by the tigers, and began to approach the ex-Pirate and

the little boy. The Gopher became so alarmed that he dropped under the

table and was never seen again. Tommy was so scared that he could not

move. But the ex-Pirate jumped upon the table, and drawing both his

pistols from his belt, aimed them at the approaching beasts and fired.

The flash, the bang, and the smoke caused Tommy to close his eyes

tightly for a second, and he felt as though his heart had leaped into

his throat.

When he opened them again he was sitting on the window-seat in his own

room, and his mother was standing in the doorway.

"You must not leave the door and the windows open at the same time,

Tommy," she was saying. "That causes a draught and makes the door slam.

Get ready for supper; it is nearly tea-time."

THE END.

[Illustration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]

The first meeting of the New York Interscholastic Athletic Association

this fall will be held this afternoon at Wilson and Kellogg's School. Of

the many questions that are to come up for discussion and settlement few

can be of greater importance than that of the formation of a National

Interscholastic Amateur Athletic Association, and I sincerely hope that

a committee will be appointed to consider the best ways and means for

carrying out the idea. I have already said all I can in favor of the

scheme, and can only repeat now, at the last moment, that the formation

of such an association will be of the greatest benefit to scholastic

track and field sports, and that if the New York association fails to

seize the opportunity it now has for making history, in its own sphere,

such a chance may never present itself again. In fact, I hear on

excellent authority that the New England League, upon the advice of a

number of Harvard graduates who still retain a lively interest in school

sports, is seriously considering the advisability of having the initial

move in the formation of a National Interscholastic League emanate from

Boston.

At the meeting of the High-School Athletic Association in Worcester a

week ago the important question as to whether the Worcester High-School

should secede from the New England I.S.A.A. was not settled owing to

lack of time for a proper debate on the subject. It will probably come

before the newly elected board of directors for consideration, although

many think a question of so much importance should be brought before the

entire association. There seems to be considerable feeling over the

matter, but such a serious step should by no means be taken unless the

W.H.-S. athletes are absolutely persuaded that it is for their own best

interests, and for the best interest of interscholastic sport.

The point at issue is this: Last winter an attempt was made to have the

New England I.S.A.A. vote to divide the two schools, and split up the

points won at the recent games, on the ground that they were two

schools, and should be considered such by the I.S.A.A. The W.H.-S.

athletes naturally combated the suggestion (which they are persuaded

emanated from their rival, the Worcester Academy), and presented some

strong arguments in defence of their position. The principal reasons

advanced for opposing the plan were that the two schools had but one

alumni association, one football and baseball team, and in their field

day competed class against class rather than school against school. The

students made such a good fight, that when the N.E.I.S.A.A. finally met

the motion to consider the Worcester High-Schools as two institutions,

and to divide the points accordingly, was lost.

But, following upon this decision, the W.H.-S. team went down to

Cambridge in June, and not only won the championship at the

Interscholastics, but scored twice as many points as any two other

schools in the association put together. As a result of this the

pro-division feeling at other schools increased, and the W.H.-S.

students now fear the association may vote a separation of athletic

interests. Fearing this, there is a strong sentiment in favor of

withdrawing from the association before any such action can be taken.

This seems unwise, for there is no strong reason to believe that the

I.S.A.A. will take any such action.

The secession of the Worcester H.-S. would be a serious loss to the

league, for it is one of its largest members and one of the strongest in

athletics. Another reason why W.H.-S. ought not to withdraw is the

possibility of Andover and Worcester Academy making an arrangement for

annual dual games--such as they held last year--and leaving the

N.E.I.S.A.A. for that reason. This would not be sufficient cause for so

doing, but there is talk of it both at Andover and in the Academy. With

the loss of these three schools the association would not be so

representative of the New England schools as it is now, and the cause of

scholastic athletics could not fail to be injured. I hope there is more

smoke than fire here.

It is good news from California that the bicyclists of the Academic

Athletic League are working for the formation of an association separate

from track and field interests. If the move is successful it will rid

the latter sports of an event that never really belonged among them,

and, in addition, it will undoubtedly be of benefit to bicycle-racing,

which, if reasonably and properly conducted, should be encouraged. The

Oakland High-School already has what they call a "cycling annex" to

their regular athletic association--a branch of the latter for the

promotion of bicycling, and for the management of bicycle races. This

annex has proved an excellent institution, and has served to develop

remarkable speed in some of its members, as these records will show:

Distance. Time. Holder.

1/8 mile, flying start, unpaced 13-3/4 sec. Colby.

1/4 mile, flying start, unpaced 30-1/5 sec. Gooch.

1/4 mile, standing start, unpaced 34-3/4 sec. Childs.

1/2 mile, standing start, unpaced 1 min. 7 sec. Gooch.

1 mile, standing start, competition 2 min. 18-1/2 sec. Gooch.

2 miles, standing start, paced 5 min. 12 sec. Kenna.

5 miles, standing start, competition,

road race 13 min. 20 sec. Gooch.

5 miles, standing start, paced 14 min. 19 sec. Kurtz.

At the meeting of the Reliance Athletic Club, September 7th, Gooch rode

third in the mile, Class A. The winning time was 2 min. 18 sec, and the

O.H.-S. rider was only the length of his bicycle behind. On September

9th he rode third to 2 min. 14-1/2 sec. in the Class A mile at San Jose.

The winner of both these races was an A.A.L. rider--Squires of the

Berkeley Gymnasium, who was second in the half, Class A, at San Jose,

when a world's record was made. The records of the O.H.-S., as given

above, were made on the Oakland Race Track, which is 100 yards short of

a mile in circuit, and has a straightaway quarter.

Football in the New York schools is slow in getting a start this fall.

Almost every other scholastic league is hard at work in the field, but

as yet scarcely any of the school teams hereabouts have done any work.

On Long Island a little more activity is being shown, but not much. The

slight start they have over the New-Yorkers, however, will be of benefit

to them, and it is not rash to prophesy, even at such an early date,

that the Inter-City championship in football will go across the river,

as the baseball championship did this spring, unless the Manhattanites

display an unusual degree of energy between now and November.

Reference to the Inter-City game suggests that in view of the three sets

of football rules in vogue this fall, it will be advisable for

committees from the N.Y.I.S.F.B.A. and from the L.I.I.S.F.B.A., to meet

at as early a date as possible to determine which set of regulations

these two leagues will adopt. For it stands to reason that if they are

to play a match in November they must sooner or later come to an

understanding on the subject of the laws that are to govern the contest.

There ought to be no difficulty about this, the only important point

being that the decision should be reached at once so that every school

eleven may get into practice, and learn to play the game that is to be

required of them later.

The absurdity of having three different sets of rules has already

manifested itself among the colleges. Before the game between Harvard

and Dartmouth, which was played ten days ago, the Captains of the

respective teams had to meet and powwow over what methods should hold

good in the contest. Of course, Captain Brewer wanted to play according

to the Harvard-Cornell-Pennsylvania scheme, but Dartmouth, having a Yale

coach, preferred the Yale-Princeton system. This difficulty will

doubtless crop up previous to every game played by one of the five

law-making colleges with the other colleges who had no say about the

revision. It is impossible, of course, for all the scholastic leagues of

this section of the United States to get together and agree on

uniformity of rules, and this is unnecessary; but I strongly urge

neighboring schools to reach some sort of an understanding, or there

will be no end of squabbles as the season advances.

Of early games in New England, Exeter was badly defeated by Dartmouth

College, Andover succumbed to the Boston Latin School, and a few days

afterward the B.L.S. players disposed of the Charlestown High-School to

the tune of 16-4. B.L.S. has a strong team this year, beyond question.

The Charlestown players were confident of winning before the contest

began, but at no stage of the game did they stand the slightest chance

of success. Captain Maguire, of B.L.S., did excellent work all through

the two halves. He made several long runs by good dodging and fast

sprinting, punted finely, and tackled hard. Teevens found the centre

weak, and banged away at it for a number of good gains. Lowe and Nagle,

too, showed up well by breaking through on the runner repeatedly, and

making holes large enough for the entire team to get through. Ramsey was

easily the best man on the Charlestown High, making all the large gains,

and being pushed over the line for the only touch-down. Curley put up a

good game at quarter, making some fine tackles, and running the team in

good shape. Better arrangements should be made in the future to keep

enthusiastic spectators off the field. This is an old-time fault of

games between schools. The management of the home team should always

consider itself responsible for the policing of the field.

The most important game of the New England series, next to the final

championship contest, was played at Brookline, Friday, to determine

whether Brookline High or Newtown High should be the sixth member of the

Senior League. As was partially anticipated in these columns last week,

victory went to Brookline; but Newton High's defeat was much worse than

I had supposed it would be. The score was 22-0, and this showing was due

much more to Brookline's steady preliminary work than to any great

discrepancy in the make-up of the two elevens. As a spectacle the game

was well worth watching, and the manager of the B.H.-S.F.B.A. saw to it

that the field was kept clear.

The weakest point in the B.H.-S. line was at right guard, and the Newton

Captain soon discovered this, and sent his men cavorting into Talbot

with good effect. Almost all of Newton's gains were made through here.

Brookline, on the other hand, did not play much for centre, but managed

to get around the opposing ends pretty frequently, the last two

touch-downs being made in this way. Good individual plays were made by

Cook, Aechtier, Seaver, and Morse for B.H.-S., the first-named doing

some especially brilliant punting. For Newton the best work was done by

Cotting, Lee, and Forsen.

Newton fumbled a good deal during the game, and many of their losses

were due to this inability to keep their hands on the ball. At times,

however, Lee's men seemed to be able to brace, making strong resistance

at critical moments. B.H.-S.'s second touch-down was only secured after

a stubborn fight. The ball had been rushed down to Newton's five-yard

line, when the N.H.-S men gathered themselves well together and held

their opponents for four downs. But this did them small service

eventually, because of their woeful fumbling. In the very first rush

following the four downs the Newton runner dropped the ball, and Seaver

fell on it. In a few moments the second touch-down was scored. If Newton

had only persisted a little longer in bucking the centre during the

second half, I feel confident they could have scored.

The Cambridge Manual Training-School defeated Somerville High again last

week, and put up some good football. Somerville was unable to score,

although they played hard at times, especially in the second half, when

they got the ball within four yards of the opponents' goal. The best

ground-gainer for Cambridge was White, who also did some hard tackling.

Thompson got around the ends well and interfered effectively, and

Captain Murphy did some excellent rush-line work, making most of the

holes through which he shot his men. Sawin showed himself a level-headed

quarter-back, and will doubtless fill that position for the rest of the

year.

Somerville High's play was very loose at times, and the men seemed to

choose the most critical moments of the game to do their fumbling. There

was a noticeable lack of team play, which must be remedied at once if

Somerville hopes to do anything in the championship series later on. The

backs did not interfere for each other, except on rare occasions, and

the C.M.T.-S. forwards had an easy time of it bringing down the runner.

It looks to me as if there was too much of a desire on the part of these

Somerville backs to shine by brilliant, individual work. That is a fatal

ambition, and if it exists should be killed by the captain at once.

Football to-day is a game for team-work, and the star player is a very

rare bird indeed. In the first half S.H.-S. had the ball only at the

kick-off and after touch-downs. They did not seem able to hold it. In

the second half they did better, and, as I said, at one time were within

threatening proximity to the C.M.T.-S. line; but there is much room for

improvement with the Somerville men. Good coaching is what they need.

It was a hot game that was played September 28th between Groton and the

Boston English High-School. For the first time in the history of the

sport, Groton met defeat at the hands of a Boston Preparatory School.

The Boston team played a great game throughout, and won by their

strength of line, which was impregnable for the Groton backs. In the

first half E.H.-S. had the ball most of the time. Groton got it but

twice, only to lose it immediately on downs. The E.H.-S. players were

lighter, but their team-work was much superior to that of Groton.

Callahan, Whittemore, Ellsworth, Higgins, and Murphy played an extremely

hard game, and the others' work was very steady. The touch-down was made

in the first half. In the second E.H.-S. had the ball most of the time,

but could not score.

The championship schedule for the Senior League of the New England

Interscholastic Football Association was made out last week at a meeting

of the Captains held at the B.A.A., and the games will be played as

follows:

English High--Oct. 29, Brookline High at South End grounds; Nov.

12, Hopkinson at South End grounds; Nov. 15, Cambridge High and

Latin at South End; Nov. 22, C.M.T.-S. (grounds undecided); Nov.

28, Boston Latin at South End.

Brookline High--Oct. 29, English High at South End: Nov. 4,

Cambridge High and Latin at Brookline Common: Nov. 8, Cambridge

Manual at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 22, Boston Latin at Brookline

Common; Nov. 27, Hopkinson at Brookline Common.

Hopkinson--Nov. 1, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers' Field: Nov. 8,

Cambridge High and Latin at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 12, English High

at South End; Nov. 18, Boston Latin at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 27,

Brookline High at Brookline Common.

Cambridge High and Latin--Oct. 20, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers'

Field; Nov. 4, Brookline High at Brookline Common; Nov. 8,

Hopkinson at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 12, Boston Latin (grounds

undecided); Nov. 15, English High at South End.

Cambridge Manual--Oct. 29, Cambridge High and Latin at Soldiers'

Field; Nov. 1, Hopkinson at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 8, Brookline

High at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 15, Boston Latin at Soldiers' Field;

Nov. 22, English High (grounds undecided).

Boston Latin--Nov. 12, Cambridge High and Latin at South End

grounds; Nov. 15, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 18,

Hopkinson at South End grounds; Nov. 22, Brookline at Brookline

Common; Nov. 28, English High at South End grounds.

The Junior League schedule was not made up, because of absentees among

the representatives, but it has doubtless been arranged by this time.

The number of games will be greater this year than before, and as a

matter of interesting record this table of matches played since the

organization of the League is here given:

G c S

o h a

a d f

l o e

s w t T

G n i T o

f o s e o t

r a s t a

o l f a l

m s a b l

i y P

T f l P o G

o r i o o i G a

u o n p i n a m

c m g p n t m e

h o t s e s

d f G n s s

o i o e l l

w e a n w o w o

n l l t o s o s

Teams. s d s s n t n t

1888.

Cambridge H. and L. 20 .. 4 .. 136 ... 6 0

Boston Latin 12 .. 17 .. 140 15 5 1

Roxbury Latin 10 .. 1 1 66 56 4 2

English High 2 .. 2 .. 20 78 2 3

Stone, Nichols, and Hales 4 .. 5 1 46 52 1 3

Hopkinsons 1 .. 3 .. 18 126 1 5

Nobles .. 1 1 .. 9 108 0 5

1889.

Cambridge H. and L. 11 3 6 .. 105 16 3 0

English High 3 .. 7 .. 46 32 2 1

Boston Latin 7 .. 4 .. 58 20 2 2

Roxbury Latin 4 .. .. .. 24 68 2 2

Hopkinsons 1 .. .. .. 6 103 0 4

1890.

Cambridge H. and L. 10 .. 8 .. 91 35 5 1

English High 10 .. 7 .. 88 26 4 1

Hopkinsons 7 .. 8 .. 74 52 3 2

Manual Training 6 1 4 .. 57 48 1[1]3

Roxbury Latin 5 .. 5 1 52 80 1 4

Boston Latin .. .. .. .. .. 122 0 4[2]

1891.

Hopkinsons 17 .. 7 .. 130 4 4 0

Manual Training 9 1 5 .. 79 56 2 2

English High 2 .. 12 .. 60 48 2 2

Boston Latin 4 .. 2 .. 32 58 2 2

Cambridge H. and L. .. .. .. .. .. 135 0 4

1892.

Hopkinsons 12 .. 4 .. 88 8 4 0

Manual Training 2 .. 3 .. 24 34 1 1[3]

English High 5 .. 4 .. 46 52 2 1[4]

Cambridge H. and L. 1 .. 1 .. 10 34 1 2[5]

Boston Latin 2 .. 1 .. 16 56 0 4

1893.

English High 11 .. 3 .. 78 56 4[6]0[7]

Manual Training 19 .. 5 .. 134 28 4[8]1

Boston Latin 3 .. 3 .. 30 68 2 3

Newton High 10 .. 3 .. 72 88 2 3

Cambridge H. and L. 5 .. 1 .. 34 78 1 2[9]

Hopkinsons 5 .. 6 .. 54 54 0 4[10]

1894.

Manual Training 9 .. 5 .. 74 .. 4 0

English High 11 .. 2 .. 68 26 3 2

Cambridge H. and L. 2 .. 1 .. 16 98 2 3

Hopkinsons 5 .. 3 .. 42 16 2 3

Boston Latin 3 .. 1 .. 22 32 2 3

Newton High 1 .. 2 .. 14 58 1 3

St. Mark's has six of last year's men back in school, and a number of

promising candidates. Several minor games have been played, but the

chief matches will be with Andover next week, and with Groton, November

9th. At the present writing Groton has the better eleven, but the St.

Mark's players are working hard under good coaching and will improve.

THE GRADUATE.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] One tied.

[2] One tied.

[3] Two tied.

[4] One tied.

[5] One tied.

[6] Forfeited.

[7] Two tied.

[8] Forfeited.

[9] Two tied.

[10] Two tied.

A JOKE ON THE MARINES.

An old but a true story goes the rounds in the navy concerning an

unintentional slur that was made upon a body of sea-soldiers known as

the marines, by a venerable chaplain attached to the frigate _Hartford_,

at the time that vessel was Admiral Farragut's flag-ship. It was the

Sunday just after the terrible passage of the Mississippi River forts,

and in his sermon the chaplain sought to impress his large congregation

gathered on the gun-deck of the vessel the fact of each one being

responsible for his own salvation. In concluding his appeal, and with

his face flushed from the warmth of his argument, he turned to the

gallant old Admiral, and exclaimed,

"Yes, Admiral, you as well as the lowliest of the seamen who are

listening to me this morning, cannot escape that individual

responsibility; and you, my dear associates of the ward-room, and other

officers, you also must take this lesson to yourselves." Then addressing

the sailors, he said, "There is no man among you who can shift this

question to another's shoulders. Admiral, Captain, officers, and seamen,

you all have souls to save." Remembering that in his summing up he had

omitted all references to the soldiers of the ship, he hastened to

include them also by adding, "Yes, even a marine has a soul to save."

The joke, although perfectly innocent, was too rich not to tickle the

congregation, and a titter followed the chaplain's closing sentence.

From that day the poor marines have been the butt of the sailors, who

occasionally find the greatest satisfaction in reminding them that "Even

a marine has a soul to save."

ADVERTISEMENTS.

Highest of all in Leavening Strength.--Latest U. S. Gov't Report.

[Illustration: Royal Baking Powder]

Arnold

Constable & Co

* * * * *

Fall Styles.

CLOAKS, SUITS,

WRAPS.

_Novelties in Paris and London-made Wraps, Jackets, Walking and Carriage

Dresses._

_Latest styles city-made garments for Ladies' and Misses' wear._

_Tailor-made Suits to order._

* * * * *

_A. C. & CO. would invite attention to the changes made in this

department._

* * * * *

Broadway & 19th st.

NEW YORK.

Webster's International Dictionary

Specimen pages, etc., sent on application.

Successor of the "Unabridged."

[Illustration]

THE BEST FOR EVERYBODY

BECAUSE

It is easy to find the word wanted.

Words are given their correct alphabetical places, each one beginning a

paragraph.

It is easy to ascertain the pronunciation.

The pronunciation is shown by the ordinary diacritically marked letters

used in the schoolbooks.

It is easy to trace the growth of a word.

The etymologies are full, and the different meanings are given in the

order of their development.

It is easy to learn what a word means.

The definitions are clear, explicit, and full, and each is contained in

a separate paragraph.

G. & C. MERRIAM CO., Publishers,

Springfield, Mass., U.S.A.

[Illustration]

Harper's Catalogue,

Thoroughly revised, classified, and indexed, will be sent by mail to any

address on receipt of ten cents.

[Illustration: If afflicted with SORE EYES USE Dr. ISAAC THOMPSON'S EYE

WATER]

[Illustration: BICYCLING]

This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the

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

maps and tours contain much valuable data kindly supplied from the

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

Recognizing the value of the work being done by the L. A. W., the

Editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with membership

blanks and information so far as possible.

[Illustration: Copyright, 1895, by Harper & Brothers.]

The journey from Shannock to Providence, which is the fifth stage of the

run from New York to Boston, is another short trip. On leaving Shannock

the rider runs out of the village from the southeast, and then at the

crossing of roads keeps always to the left, moving northward, and soon

crossing a small stream. The run from this point is unmistakable. A

little more than three miles out he crosses the stream again, passes

over a bit of hilly country, and after crossing the railroad runs

directly into Kingston. Here a sharp turn is made to the north and left

again, and passing Mooresfield the rider runs on to Slocumville over a

moderately good road-bed, but through some pretty hilly country. In fact

there are several good hills between Shannock and East Greenwich, all of

which are designated on the map. From Slocumville to Belleville through

Allenton is a clear course over a good road, bad in spots; and thence

the route skirts along the inlets of the bay direct to Wickford.

Wickford station and hotel are some distance off the bicycle route, but

it is hardly necessary to stop here, and the rider would better keep on

direct to East Greenwich, where a stop can be made for lunch or dinner,

with a little under twenty-five miles done for the morning's run. The

road from Wickford to East Greenwich is easily followed if you take care

to keep to the main road and do not swerve to right or left. It becomes

better as you proceed northward as to road-bed and hills. From East

Greenwich, the rider follows the shore of Narragansett Bay up to

Apponang, and if he happens to run through East Greenwich without

stopping for dinner he can find a reasonably good meal at this place,

though on the whole East Greenwich is a much more satisfactory spot.

Side paths can be used along this part of the road to great advantage at

times, though that goes without saying anywhere outside of villages or

towns. On entering Apponang the rider turns sharply to the right into

the village, and on leaving he keeps on the same road, running eastward,

until just before crossing the track. At this point he turns sharply to

the left and runs up to Marlors, crossing the railroad there. The road

now runs along not far from the track, passing Hillsgrove. Thence the

rider should keep straight on to Pawtuxet. On entering the main street

turn to the left and pass directly through the town, leaving Elmville on

the left, and soon afterwards, perhaps three miles further on, running

into the most distant suburbs of Providence. It is some distance to the

centre of the city, where the Narragansett House is a good place to

stop. Indeed the journey winds about so that it is thirty-seven or

thirty-eight miles before you have made the run from Shannock to

Providence.

If the rider is one who can easily do seventy or eighty miles in a day

he can make a short detour near the beginning of the journey and spend

part of the morning at Narragansett Pier. On leaving Kingston, instead

of turning sharply to the left at the junction of the roads, go eastward

on the Mooresfield road, and take the first right-hand turn. This will

carry you to Narrangansett Pier in short order, as it is not many miles

away. In like manner the main road to Providence may be joined again at

Allenton by following the secondary bicycle route designated.

NOTE.--Map of New York city asphalted streets in No. 809. Map of

route from New York to Tarrytown in No. 810. New York to Stamford,

Connecticut, in No. 811. New York to Staten Island in No. 812. New

Jersey from Hoboken to Pine Brook in No. 813. Brooklyn in No. 814.

Brooklyn to Babylon in No. 815. Brooklyn to Northport in No. 816.

Tarrytown to Poughkeepsie in No. 817. Poughkeepsie to Hudson in

No. 818. Hudson to Albany in No. 819. Tottenville to Trenton in

820. Trenton to Philadelphia in 821. Philadelphia in No. 822.

Philadelphia-Wissahickon Route in No. 823. Philadelphia to West

Chester in No. 824. Philadelphia to Atlantic City--First Stage in

No. 825; Second Stage in No. 826. Philadelphia to Vineland--First

Stage in No. 827. Second Stage in No. 828. New York to

Boston--Second Stage in No. 829; Third Stage in No. 830; Fourth

Stage in No. 831.

[Illustration: THE CAMERA CLUB]

Any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly

answered by the Editor of this column, and we should be glad to

hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions.

PAPERS FOR BEGINNERS, No. 14.

MOUNTING PRINTS.

As a rule all prints should be trimmed before toning. This is not only

economy, but it simplifies the mounting process. Aristo prints can be

mounted direct from the ferrotype plate or the ground-glass to which

they have been squeegeed to dry. When thoroughly dry, paste the back of

a print, lift the corner from the plate with the point of a knife, and

peel off the picture. Place the upper edge of the picture on a line with

the top of the card, and let the print drop into place. Lay a piece of

tissue-paper over the face of the print, and roll the squeegee over it

very lightly and evenly, taking care that no air-blisters are left

between the print and the card-mount. By mounting aristo prints in this

way one avoids getting paste on the face of the picture, and it will

retain much of the gloss imparted to it by the ferrotype plate.

Instead of drying the prints before mounting they can be taken from the

water one at a time, and placed face down on a pane of glass, or the

bottom of the toning tray. After all are placed, absorb as much of the

water as possible with a piece of blotting-paper. Apply the paste to the

top print, being particular to have the edges well covered. Lift the

print and lay it on the card-mount, and rub down with squeegee as

directed. When the pictures are dry they can be burnished if desired.

Card-mounts come in all sizes, and the beginner usually selects a mount

the size of the print to be mounted. Now a picture to look its best

should be mounted on a card large enough to show at least an inch margin

all round. A 6 x 8 card is a good size for a 4 x 5 print. Plain

card-mounts of creamy white or soft gray are much less expensive than

the small mounts with gilt or fancy edges, and are much more artistic.

Before mounting a print it is a good idea to lay it on the card and see

what best accords with the color. After the prints are mounted write the

name of the picture on each. If written on the back, which is usually to

be preferred to the face of the print, any item of interest about the

picture can be added. Do not mount a print unless it has some claim to

merit. An amateur is always being asked to show his pictures, and it

does not add to one's reputation as a photographer to exhibit dismal

failures and dignify them with the name of pictures. There is no use in

perpetuating a failure.

When visitors ask to see your pictures do not bring out every one which

you happen to have mounted. A dozen well-taken and well-mounted pictures

are more appreciated and more enjoyed than a large collection of which

one tires before he gets to the end. Always have a few good pictures

reserved for yourself. One so often hears the excuse, "Oh, I haven't any

good prints," that it becomes tiresome. Make at least a dozen as fine

prints as you can, and keep them for exhibition, adding fresh ones as

the old ones become soiled.

CLARA ANDREWS wants to know what is meant by halation. Halation is

the term used to denote the spreading of light beyond its proper

place on the negative. In photographing an interior where the

camera is pointed toward a window the light from the window is

reflected from the back of the negative, and makes a sort of halo

or fog round the picture of the window. Plates called non-halation

plates are now made for the purpose of photographing clouds,

windows, lights, etc., without having this fog appear.

E. A. D. asks if there is a way to take a photograph from an

engraving, and how it is done. Copying photographs and engravings

is very easily done. Place the picture on a board, holding it in

place with clamps or letter-clips, and set the board upright.

Arrange the camera, and focus on the principal object in the

picture. The picture must be at exactly the same angle as the

camera. If the camera is exactly horizontal the picture must also

be placed in the same position. It is best to take the pictures

out-of-doors, as the light is more even than in the house. Expose

a little longer than for ordinary landscapes or figures.

HARD TO UNDERSTAND.

He's got a pretty pinky cheek;

He's fat and fair as Cupid;

But if _I_ said things baby says,

They'd think me very stupid.

And yet whene'er he says those things,

For twenty minutes after

The rooms and hallways loud resound

With pop's and mamma's laughter.

* * * * *

SICKNESS AMONG CHILDREN

is prevalent at all seasons of the year, but can be avoided largely when

they are properly cared for. _Infant Health_ is the title of a valuable

pamphlet accessible to all who will send address to the New York

Condensed Milk Company, N. Y. City.--[_Adv._]