have as many as six dolls. Fanny is nearly as old as I am. Her nose
is almost flat. I keep Etta dressed all up pretty. Santa Claus has
had two big books made with my HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I hope he
won't forget to call for them again this year. I have taken them
every one. I have a blackboard; I print, and can add and take away.
I am in the Second-Reader. Mamma and I are going to Maine next
month to stay till it is real cool here. There we go out fishing.
We pick blueberries, blackberries, and cranberries. I have four
little cousins who go from here. We all have the same grandpa and
grandma. We ride on the hay, and dig clams. Papa will go down to
bring us home. Every Tuesday night he reads me the stories from
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I like the letters very much, and everything
in them. When papa sees a letter from his little girl, he will open
his eyes. I have never been to school. I think Toby Tyler is just
as nice as any other of my friends. I am wondering if you will have
room for this in my HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE; it is a very long
letter.
One of your little girls, OLIVE E. B.
Thank you, dear, for printing your letter so beautifully.
* * * * *
HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT.
An amusing game which I have seen played is the following: Take
four handkerchiefs and tie them like dolls, to represent four
persons; then tie a thread to each, and put them (the threads) over
the chandelier, and give each thread to a person, who must try to
conceal himself behind a door or something else; and then, while
some one plays on the piano, those who have the threads keep them
jerking, letting the dolls hang so that they come down to the
floor. If well done, it is quite a good representation of dancing.
S.
* * * * *
LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY.
As I have not seen a letter from Lexington, I thought I would write
one. I have two little puppies; one is named Sport, and the other
Preston. I have a hen, and she lays eggs. I have a little brother,
and he is named Hugh. He has two kittens; one is a Maltese, and one
a common cat. I can ride a bicycle, and last year I took the
certificate at the fair for good riding.
E. SAYRE C.
* * * * *
WAUKESHA, WISCONSIN.
I am twelve years old, and have taken the YOUNG PEOPLE from the
beginning. I like it very much; I can hardly wait a week for it to
come, because the continued stories all leave off in such
interesting places.
I haven't any pets to tell you about, for they all died. I had five
cats, a mother and four little ones, and some one killed the
mother, and two little dwarfs, as I called them, had to be
drowned, because they could not live without her; then one of the
remaining two fell into the well and drowned itself, and the horse
stepped on the other one; so that is the fate of my five cats.
My mamma, papa, and little brother have all been to California, and
left me here with some friends; they were gone nearly a year, and
sometimes I felt very lonesome. My brother is ten years old, and we
have a nice big yard to play in. My brother's name is Earle, and we
both like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" very much.
WINNIE W.
* * * * *
ADMIRER.--Newfoundland is pronounced with the accent on the first
syllable. I do not know who wrote the exercise in alliteration which you
mention. It is clever, but you could no doubt compose an equally
excellent one yourself. Whether to use plain or ornamental note-paper is
a matter to be decided by your own taste. The exquisite little butterfly
painted by yourself in the corner of your sheet is a decided addition to
the beauty of your letter. I would not waste such decorations on an
envelope, however, as that has to pass through many hands, and is less
private than the inclosure.
* * * * *
VIOLET S.--Your teacher has discovered a very pleasant way of teaching
her pupils how to write compositions. Although most schools are now
taking their summer recess, I will state her method. She takes ten words
from a lesson which the girls have recently studied, and writes them on
the blackboard, after which she gives them fifteen minutes with their
slates and pencils. At the end of fifteen minutes each is asked for her
composition.
* * * * *
The smallest black-and-tan terrier in the world is supposed to belong to
a lady in Chicago. It weighs from a pound to a pound and a half. Its
skin is like the finest silk, its eyes project like marbles, its legs
resemble lead-pencils, and its feet are the most perfect and curious
things alive. It reposes in a basket lined with gold and cardinal satin,
wears a collar studded with diamonds and emeralds, with "Baby Mine," its
pet name, on a gold plate tipped with a gold bell, and is fed from a
saucer of Dresden china.
* * * * *
BETTIE.--Keep powdered borax on your wash-stand, and use it when washing
your hands; it will make them soft and white. Lemon juice is also good
to whiten the hands. But the Postmistress does not object to a healthy
brown color in summer either on hands or face.
* * * * *
C. Y. P. R. U.
This article on the making of anagrams, which we ask you to read
carefully, was prepared by a gentleman who has had a great deal of
experience with puzzles and puzzlers. Perhaps you will try your own
skill in transposing sentences after this ingenious fashion:
MODERN ANAGRAMS.
BY KOE.
In a former issue of YOUNG PEOPLE a writer told the younger readers of
the old-fashioned amusement of making anagrams on the names of
acquaintances and public characters. The author gave several
illustrations of famous anagrams made many years ago; but there have
been some truly wonderful anagrams published in this country during the
last four or five years, and I shall endeavor to give you a few of the
most interesting ones.
There is a certain understanding among contributors to puzzle columns
that an anagram is a word, name, place, or event so transposed that it
will relate in some way to the original subject; while if merely so
transposed that it will produce other words not relative to the
original, it is called a transposition; but transpositions are usually
made of a single word, as, for instance, the following by a lady of
Toledo, Ohio, who signs herself "Mazie Lane":
"Transpose a musical anthem grand,
And find a picture by a red man's hand."
The answer is Motet--Totem.
Here is one by a young man of Boston, who signs himself "Sphinx":
"Gay, pretty flowers of the spring,
Transposed will stipulators bring."
Answer: Primroses--Promisers.
These are good examples of transpositions, as they are called, while the
word Astronomers, which is turned into moon-starers, is an excellent
example of word-anagram. One of the best, and probably only word in the
English language of which so perfect an anagram can be made, is a word I
discovered in my dictionary not long since. It is the word _stum_, and
turned into the anagram of _must_. The definition of each word is the
same--"unfermented grape juice or wine."
As the following anagrams were when published signed by their authors
with a _nom de plume_, or assumed name, I will give due credit by giving
the name of each.
A contributor who signed himself "Wilkins Micawber" sent me the
following in 1879:
"We all can say, and speak the truth,
How well we knew her in our youth."
_The door ring tided ill._
Surely every one of my readers has heard or read of this little girl
who, while on her way to her grandmother's house, met the fierce wolf in
the woods. The words in italics represent the anagram, and I am
confident some of the bright little readers would soon discover in the
above line their well-known friend Little Red Riding-hood. Is not this
an excellent anagram?
A gentleman of New Haven, Connecticut, who uses the _nom de plume_ of
"O. Possum," is the author of the following--and I fancy some of the
older members of the family would have to assist to solve it, being an
anagram of a well-known book that few of the little folks read:
_Past homes of Italy pied._
"Of days gone by, a story written
By Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton."
The answer is _The Last Days of Pompeii_.
From the landing of the Pilgrims down to the present day the history of
our country is full of grand events that afford most excellent subjects
for anagrams, and many of my friends have utilized some of them. I could
fill several pages with the anagrams I have collected, but lack of space
compels me to give only a few of the best.
A contributor who uses the _nom de plume_ of "Jim Jam" was the first to
use the event of Washington crossing the Delaware for an anagram, with
the following result:
_A hard, howling, tossing water scene._
Soon after receiving this a friend, now dead, sent me the following on
the same subject. His _nom de plume_ was "Graham":
_Lo! see rash acting with dangers won._
One "Percy Vere" also used this subject, with this result:
"Read this event on history's page--
_The cold waters swashing on in rage._"
While "Edwin Drood's" attempt resulted as follows:
_Watch a soldier hang on, steering s.w._
This was sent to me more as a joke, and the answer given as "Crossington
washing the Delaware," but both answers can be found. I will here say
that a true and perfect anagram should not contain a single letter to
represent words, as in the one given above; nor should any but proper
abbreviations be used, and these as rarely as possible.
The two following were composed by "Traddles," who, by-the-way, is
looked upon as quite an expert in this amusement:
_Horror flee! Rude war's better ended._
"The surrender of Robert Edward Lee," which also ended the war of the
rebellion.
_A French site. 'Tis blotted out, eh?_
"The destruction of the Bastile," a terrible state-prison, which was
destroyed by the people of Paris on the 15th of July, 1789.
_O! glad boy finds rich metal in clay of shoal river._
This, by "Percy Vere," is considered one of the best and most correct of
anagrams. The answer is, "The discovery of gold in California by
Marshall." This author is also the writer of the following:
_O! all in ban. March!_
Answer: Abraham Lincoln.
_Sirs, 'tis alone._
Answer: Solitariness.
The following two are so good that I am sure my readers will excuse me
for the additional time I take from their play to present them. They are
both by the same author, a gentleman of Ohio:
_Often noisy I when I enable aching wives to hem._
Answer: Invention of the sewing-machine by Elias Howe.
_Pooh! we can find ten errors; they never hit._
Answer: The weather predictions of Henry Vennor.
The above will give you all an idea of how an anagram should be made.
All are excellent specimens of American work--in fact, I am certain no
better were ever composed. The puzzle column in this paper, I am sure,
would publish some anagrams if my young readers will take the trouble to
try and make them. Let us see who will have the first one published.
Before closing I wish to give you a treat, illustrating how a word can
be twisted and twirled. It is from Maitland:
"'How much there is in a word--_monastery_,' says I. 'Why, that makes
_nasty Rome_;' and when I looked at it again, it was _more nasty_--a
very vile place, or _mean sty_.
"'_Ay, monster_,' says I, 'you are found out.'
"'What monster?' said the Pope.
"'What monster?' said I. 'Why, your own image there--_stone Mary_.'
"'That,' he replied, 'is _my one star_, my Stella Maria, my treasure, my
guide.'
"'No,' said I, 'you should say _my treason_."
"'_Yet no arms_,' said he.
"'No,' quoth I; 'quiet may suit best, as long as you have _no
mastery_--I mean _money arts_.'
"'No,' said he again, 'those are _Tory means_, and Dan, _my senator_,
will baffle them.'
"'I don't know that,' said I; 'but I think one might make _no mean
story_ out of this one word monastery.'"
* * * * *
We would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. this week to Mrs.
Lillie's article "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart," and to "Parsee Merchants of
Bombay," by Colonel Thomas W. Knox. In "How to Lay out Lawn Tennis
Courts" Sherwood Ryse offers some hints that young tennis-players will
find very useful.
* * * * *
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
1. A pronoun. 2. A tree. 3. Another pronoun. 4. A kind of fuel. 5. A
boy's name. 6. A preposition. 7. A verb. 8. A smaller portion. Primals
and finals compose the name of a book by Louisa M. Alcott.
DOXY.
* * * * *
No. 2.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I am composed of 19 letters, and am a famous navigator.
My 1, 4, 11, 12, 15, 19 is a show.
My 2, 7, 10 is an agricultural tool.
My 3, 13, 17 is to steal.
My 5, 18, 17, 16, 4, 6 is to yield.
My 8, 9, 4, 14 is a boy's nickname.
My whole is the name of a famous navigator.
R. B. B.
* * * * *
No. 3.
TWO WORD SQUARES.
1.--1. A jeweller's measure. 2. Nimble. 3. A fire-arm. 4. To grant. 5.
Prongs.
2.--1. A tree. 2. A weapon. 3. To verify. 4. A friend. 5. Pitchers.
EMPIRE CITY.
* * * * *
No. 4.
AN EASY ENIGMA.
In cat, not in dog.
In stick, not in log.
In find, not in lose.
In eats, not in chews.
My whole is a country over the sea.
Pray what is my name--can you tell me?
JOCO.
* * * * *
No. 5.
A SMALL SQUARE.
1. A domestic animal. 2. A number. 3. A swelling.
ALFRED W.
* * * * *
No. 6.
TWO CHARADES.
1.--My first is fragrant, my second is a name, and my whole is a
beautiful flower.
2.--My first is an animal, my second is part of an animal, and my whole
is a flower.
EMPIRE CITY.
* * * * *
No. 7.
WHO AM I?
I went to the Crimea;
I stopped there;
I didn't go there;
I was sent home because
I didn't go there.
* * * * *
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 138.
No. 1.
Nelson, Sydney, Montpelier, Lena, Hobart, Mattery, Cashmere, Brussels,
Morocco, Orange, Worms, Fear, Cologne, Sandwich Islands, Orange County,
Farewell.
No. 2.
Bennington. Hop-Scotch.
No. 3.
P
R B A T
D A Y B A L E S
R A V E N P A L F R E Y
Y E A T E R R A
N S E A
Y
No. 4.
P A N I C
A T O N E
N O V E L
I N E R T
C E L T S
* * * * *
Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Fannie T. Metzgar,
Julia Jackson, Eddie Flack, Mary Rice, May Fanning, "I. Scycle," Russel
B. Beals, Henry Aron, Eva Stevenson, Rose M. Benedict, "Sister Grace,"
"Prickly-Pear," Mary B. Lavely, Hugh Leslie, Arthur Aird, Jack Trumbull,
E. L. Jones, "Lady Clare," "Cricket," Samuel Price, Fred White, A. H.
Brown, Edgar Seeman, Richard Venino, "Neptune," Maude Motley, Eddie S.
Hequembourg, Cornelia Gateson, Charlie O. Rose, Willie Black, Griffith
Williams, Harry, Tom, and Pussy, "Eureka," Maud H. H., Willie and Emily,
Alice and Amelia, Roger Franklin, King Albert.
* * * * *
[_For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover._]
[Illustration: "They come, the merry summer months of beauty, song, and
flowers."--WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.]
A LITTLE SCAMP.
BY JOSEPHINE POLLARD.
He's off on a tramp,
Like the little scamp
That he is, for we did not bind him;
And with hurrying feet
Up and down the street
We've followed, but can not find him.
There are gypsies about,
Who will steal him, no doubt,
And keep him in horrible places;
And changing his name,
Our darling will claim,
Who misses our fond embraces.
The dear little scamp,
What made him decamp
In this way, without any warning?
He can not speak plain,
And we've sought him in vain,
Why, ever since yesterday morning.
He was saucy and pert,
And will surely get hurt
In some of his comical capers;
And hoping to get
Our runaway pet,
We've advertised him in the papers.
We've mentioned his size,
The color of his eyes,
And his hair--'twas a beautiful yellow;
And offered reward,
All we could afford,
To whoever restores the dear fellow.
His meals he will take
Very nicely, and cake
He is almost as fond of as candy.
If he crosses your track,
Won't you please bring him back?
He's a dog, and he answers to--Dandie.
* * * * *
BARBERS' POLES.
In the records of the English Parliament for the last century we read
that Lord Thurlow, when he opposed the Surgeons' Incorporation Bill in
the House of Peers, on the 17th July, 1797, stated that by a statute
still in force, the barbers and surgeons were each to use a pole. The
barbers were to have theirs blue and white striped, with no other
appendage; but the surgeons', which were the same in other respects,
were likewise to have a gallipot and a red rag to denote the particular
nature of their vocation.
The origin of the barbers' pole is to be traced to the period when the
barbers were also surgeons, and practiced bleeding. To assist this
operation, it being necessary for the patient to grasp a staff, a stick
or a pole was always kept by the barber-surgeon, together with the
fillet or bandage he used for tying the patient's arm. When the pole was
not in use, the tape was tied to it, that they might be both together
when wanted.
On a person coming in to be bled, the tape was disengaged from the pole
and bound round the arm, and the pole was put into the person's hand.
After the operation was concluded, the tape was again tied on the pole,
and pole and tape were often hung at the door for a sign or notice to
passers-by that they might there be bled. Doubtless the competition for
custom was great, for our ancestors believed thoroughly in bleeding, and
they demanded the operation frequently. At length, instead of hanging
out the identical pole used in the operation, a pole was painted with
stripes round it, in imitation of the real pole and bandage, and thus
came the sign.
That the use of the pole in bleeding was very ancient appears from an
illumination in a missal of the time of Edward I. In other ancient
volumes there are engravings of the like practice. "Such a staff," says
Brand, who mentions these graphic illustrations, "is to this very day
put into the hand of patients undergoing phlebotomy by every village
practitioner."
[Illustration: THE CHAIRMAN. "We are here, gentlemen, to start a Crusade
against Dog-catchers, and we wish every Dog's help, both small and
great."]
End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, July 11, 1882, by Various