than I went up, and got into the road just in time to meet old Nils, the
carrier, rattling along at his usual slap-dash pace. In trying to avoid
him, I slipped and fell right before the cart, and horse and cart and
all went merrily over me. Luckily, I had fallen lengthwise, so that the
wheels went on each side of me, and here I am, all right."
"Well, old boy," cried Karl, "here's another chance for you. Try if you
can get those eggs up yonder for little Olaf. None of _us_ can."
The words were hardly spoken, when Banner was over the fence, and the
next moment he was seen scrambling up the side of the house by the
notches which time and weather had made in the masonry. Once he slipped,
and came down with a run; but he only set his hard mouth a little more
firmly, and went to work again. Inch by inch he worked his way upward,
the boys holding their breath as they watched him, until at length a
general shout proclaimed that he had got a firm hold of the ivy.
Once there, the rest was easy. Another minute brought him within reach
of the nest, and the eggs were carefully stowed away in a kind of pouch
in the breast of his jacket.
Just then the village school-master came by, and seeing what was going
on, cried, indignantly,
"You cruel boy! it would serve you right if you were to fall and injure
yourself."
The words were truer than he intended, for Banner, startled by the
shout, lost his hold and fell headlong to the ground. A cry of horror
burst from the lookers-on, who were all over the fence in an instant,
and the old teacher, dismayed at the effect of his rebuke, was not the
hindmost. But to their amazement they found that "the boy who could not
be hurt" had deserved his name once more. He had alighted upon a heap of
straw, and though stunned and slightly bruised, was otherwise not a whit
the worse.
"All right, boys," said he, faintly, "the _eggs_ aren't broken, anyhow.
Here, Olaf." And he put his prize into the trembling hands of the little
cripple, who was crying bitterly.
"God bless thee, my brave lad!" said the old teacher, losing all his
anger in honest admiration of the boy's courage. "Thou art one who will
be heard of yet."
II.
"Stand firm, lads! we'll beat them yet," shouted a tall handsome man in
the uniform of an Austrian Colonel, who was doing his best to keep his
men steady in the crisis of one of the hardest battles of the Thirty
Years' War.
Few of his old playmates would have recognized little Moritz von Arnheim
in that bearded face and towering figure; but it was he nevertheless,
and the soldiers who were pressing him so hard were men from the very
part of Sweden where he had once spent his holidays.
"Forward, my Swedes!" roared a tremendous voice from the other side, and
through the rolling smoke in front broke a long line of glittering
pike-heads and stern faces, sweeping down upon them like a mighty sea.
There was a crash and a terrible cry, and the Austrian ranks were rolled
together like leaves before the wind.
Foremost among the Swedes, as they swept onward with a joyous cheer, was
a big red-bearded man with the plumed hat of a General, whose face every
Austrian leader already knew to his cost.
"Here's that fellow again," growled the Colonel. "He shan't escape
_this_ time, anyhow."
He discharged his pistol full at the General's broad breast, but the
ball glanced off as if from a rock, and the next moment Colonel Von
Arnheim and his horse were rolling in the dust together, under the very
feet of the Swedish pikemen.
"Don't hurt him, on your lives!" roared the General. "Take him to my
tent, and keep him safe till I come."
"Ha!" muttered the Colonel, "I ought to know _that_ voice. A strange
adventure, truly, if this be indeed he!"
But all his doubts were ended a few hours later when the Swedish General
came striding into the tent, and holding out his huge brown hand, said,
with a broad grin,
"Do you know me, friend Moritz?"
"John Banner, sure enough!" cried Von Arnheim, grasping the offered hand
cordially. "Well, I see you're still 'the boy who can't be hurt,' for
I'm certain I saw my bullet hit you right on the breast."
"Hitting's not killing," answered Banner, throwing open his uniform, and
showing a breastplate of fine steel underneath. "I've had many a
narrower escape than that since I climbed for the nest at Hornelen."
"Well, speaking for myself, I'm very glad you _have_ escaped," said the
Colonel; "but for the sake of Austria and the imperial flag, I rather
wish _that heap of straw hadn't been there_."
Banner answered with a hearty laugh, and the two old comrades, thus
strangely reunited, spent a very merry evening together.
[Illustration: A SCHOOL FOR YOUTHFUL PRISONERS IN MAZAS, PARIS.]
A PRISON SCHOOL IN PARIS.
In the large and gloomy prison called Mazas, in Paris, there is a school
for the instruction of youthful offenders against the law. Most of them
are very ignorant when they enter the prison, but they are taught
reading, writing, and arithmetic during their term of confinement, and
most of them leave their cells not only improved in morals, but fitted
to earn their living in honest employment.
The prison is a gloomy place for a school; but it is better than the
dreadful places from which its youthful inmates are taken, where they
had begun to learn the ways and habits of older criminals. It is a wise
thing to give them useful instruction as well as punishment, so that
when they are set free they may not sink back into evil ways, and go on
from bad to worse in a downward course.
No class in this prison school contains more than eight pupils at a
time, and the school-room is very different from the pleasant, cheerful
rooms where the pupils of our free schools are taught. It is a vaulted
court lighted with gas, and the doors of the cells open into it. At each
door is a plain wooden table, and the pupils sit in such a position that
they can not see each other, while all are under the eye of the teacher.
The teacher, as may be seen in the picture, walks slowly back and forth
in front of the open doors, listening to the recitation of the lessons.
All the pupils respond at once, either reading from their slates or
answering questions orally. It is really wonderful to see how quickly
he detects the slightest error, and corrects it, when all are speaking
at the same time. You may think that this is a very inconvenient way to
learn; but bright boys, who were entirely ignorant when they entered the
prison, have been known to write legibly in a month's time, and to do
quite difficult sums in multiplication and division. The fact that they
have nothing to divert their minds from their lessons, and that study is
really a new kind of recreation for them, may account for this rapid
progress.
When Louis Napoleon overthrew the French Republic in 1851, and made
himself Emperor, Mazas became famous for the number of distinguished
patriots who were confined there by the order of the usurper. A full
description of the prison is given in Victor Hugo's _History of a
Crime_.
ANECDOTES ABOUT CATS.
A cat that belonged to a coachman had a very curious way of bringing up
her kittens. Soon after her first family was born, she disappeared one
morning with all the little things, and could not be seen anywhere. In
the evening she came in for food, but as soon as she had had enough, ran
away again. I think it was the next morning that one of the kittens was
found lying under a large tree in the drive, and it was then discovered
that the mother had taken her favorite children up to where two
branches, separating, formed a kind of nest for them, leaving the one
poor little thing that she did not care for down below to shift for
himself. Strange to say, she and the rest of her family remained safely
up in the tree until they were old enough to run about, when she got
them all down again. I do not remember whether the little cast away was
ever taken into favor and allowed to share his brothers' airy home, but
I think not. She found this plan succeeded so well with her first set of
kittens, that she followed it with all the others.
A rather strange thing once happened to an ugly sandy-colored cat that
lived chiefly in the stables. The coachman found her one morning in a
most pitiful state, hopping about on three legs, with the fourth hanging
down quite limp, and apparently useless. He took her up, and after
examining it, felt quite sure that it was broken; and calling the
gardener, asked his opinion, which was the same. They were both very
sorry for the poor creature, and decided that she had better be killed,
as she seemed to be in great pain, and would most likely never get
better. Just then a farmer passed, and wanted to know upon what they
were holding such a grave discussion. They told him, and after feeling
the paw very carefully, he came to the same conclusion about the injury.
"But," said he, "you need not kill poor Pussy; I will try and cure her."
So he took her into the kitchen, and cut some little wooden splints.
While he held her quiet, the housekeeper bound the leg carefully up
between the splints with tape, which was then securely sewed, and poor
Pussy was put to bed, with a great deal of petting and plenty of food.
About two hours later she was found walking about firmly on her four
legs, with no signs of the bandage that had been on her paw, and was
never seen to limp again.
THE GARDENS.
Three children and three gardens
In this picture you may see;
One has planted a lily,
And one a red-rose tree.
And one in the earth with a little stick
Has written her name, and then quite thick
The seeds of the water-cress has laid
In the little track the stick has made.
And here she sits with folded hands--
In this picture you may see
What a very patient little girl
This little girl must be.
And if you'd like to know her name,
Why, when the cresses grow,
You can see as well as she,
And then her name you'll know.
[Illustration: THE THREE GARDENS.]
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
Our first letter this week comes from a young lady who writes to the
Natural History Society. All the way from Japan came a letter from a
bright boy describing the Feast of Lanterns in his far-off home. We
think the same boy, if he would, could tell us something about mission
work in Nagasaki. Every letter we print is interesting, and we are very
sorry that you can not enjoy the letters we have had to keep to
ourselves. We are glad that so many of you like Our Post-office Box.
WATERTOWN, NEW YORK.
Good-morning, boys and girls! How are you progressing with your
studies in natural history? Have you been successful in finding
facts for your societies, and securing specimens for their
collections? No doubt those who spent vacation away from home
brought back many trophies which will be greatly valued. Have you
added some of them to a cabinet where all the members of your
society can enjoy them? Those of you who have staid at home,
plodding on in the same old paths, have you noticed anything
wonderful there? Surely there is no place where God is not, and
where His works may not be studied. Sometimes children make fine
and well-arranged collections not only of flowers, but of leaves,
ferns, and mosses, some varieties of which can be obtained in all
parts of our country.
One branch of natural history which is full of instruction is often
neglected. I refer to the study of insects. Not only may
butterflies and moths lay claim to beauty, but many beetles, flies,
spiders, and worms. "Ugh!" says some little girl--"spiders and
worms! The horrid things! Who ever heard of their being beautiful?"
Little sister, have you been walking all this time with your eyes
shut, so that you have not seen their velvet coats of many colors,
ringed, streaked, and speckled? If you would but stop and watch
them in the trades they follow and the houses they build, instead
of running with fright or turning away in disgust, you would find
them more interesting than you now imagine they can be.
I have a friend who has for a few months past been studying
entomology. She has used her fernery, covering the top with
mosquito bar, as a cage for worms, and there we have fed them with
the leaves of the plants on which they were found, and have been
quite delighted with their transformations. She had two green ones,
with black bands running around them, dotted with orange. They were
found on celery. We watched one hang itself to a piece of
apple-tree branch put in for that purpose; saw it spin a small,
thick patch of web, hook its hind-feet into it, then pull with all
its might, apparently to see if the web was strong. After that it
spun a silken cord for its back, attaching the ends to the bark,
holding up its fore-feet and passing it back and forth over them to
make it long enough. It then passed its head through the loop so
made, and wriggled itself in. In about thirty-six hours the skin
split on the back, and it slipped it off, unhooking its tail, and
hooking it into the web again; and after repeating the operation of
pulling, the little creature settled down for a long nap. As the
skin came off, he looked like an entirely different fellow, both in
shape and color. He is now a chrysalis, without legs or a
distinctly defined head; in color, light gray, with brown stripes
running lengthwise; there is also a delicate trace of wings. We are
now looking for his last change, which will be to a dark
swallow-tailed butterfly, spotted with yellow, blue, and orange.
All parts of the cabbage butterfly, even its eyes, can be clearly
traced in the chrysalis.
Another worm, pale green, very large, nearly like the tomato-worm,
laid himself away in the earth in one corner of the fernery, there
to change into a pupa, and remain until spring, when he will become
a pretty moth--ash-color and pink, with brown spots. It will
measure over three inches when the wings are spread.
A stupid-looking bug, somewhat like a May-beetle without wings, was
also put into the cage. It soon attached itself to the branch,
split open its back, and out came a lace-winged cicada, wrongly
called a locust. You would be surprised to see how much larger it
was than the case out of which it came.
Have any of you ever watched the wrigglers in your mother's barrel
of rain-water, and have you seen them change to mosquitoes? If not,
keep your eyes open early in the morning, is the advice of
MARY P.
* * * * *
JERICHO, LONG ISLAND.
I live on Long Island, not very far from where HARPER'S YOUNG
PEOPLE is published.
My sister Annie and I started for school two weeks ago. We have a
new teacher, and we like her very much.
The only pets we have are three cats, Tiny, Daisy, and Lillie. Tiny
is the nicest. We think they are all pretty smart. I suppose all
who have pets think the same.
I am eleven years old. We have a piano, and take music lessons. I
am a little farther along than Annie, so I teach her. I have no
teacher now, but hope I shall soon have one. I like music very
much.
I like "Tim and Tip" very much. "Toby Tyler" was splendid. I hope
Jimmy Brown will favor us with another account of his misfortunes
soon.
MAGGIE J. L.
How charming it is for you to be able to teach Annie what you have
learned! You will find that your doing this will help you to become a
finer performer yourself. We like to hear of girls who believe in
helping along.
* * * * *
BAYOU VERMILION, LOUISIANA.
I live on the bank of Vermilion River, in Louisiana, nine miles
from Abbeville. I have been taking your paper for seven months. I
have two little sisters and one little brother. I have a pet 'coon.
It is a cunning little animal. When my little sister has a piece of
bread in her hand, and he sees her, he comes and takes it away from
her, and will then run and hide. I like "Toby Tyler," and I like
"Tim and Tip" also.
FRANK C. R.
* * * * *
LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND.
A lady sends me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE every week from New York. I
read all the stories, and I like "The Cruise of the 'Ghost'" and
"Aunt Ruth's Temptation" better than any of the others. I have two
little sisters who like pets. They have two pretty canaries, and
between us we have a darling dog, a collie, and we call him Bruno.
GUSSIE L.
* * * * *
FORT CAMERON, UTAH TERRITORY.
I saw a large spider this morning. When I first observed it, it had
already woven a large web in the corner of the windows and had
attached it by long braces to a rustic lounge beneath the window.
As I was watching it, a house-fly became entangled in the web. As
it was struggling to free itself, the spider saw it, ran up to the
spot where it was caught, seized and covered it with a slimy stuff,
after which it proceeded to eat the fly up. It had a very small
head, and a body the size of a small marble. It had four feelers
curved over its head, and four legs, in three colors, red, white,
and black, and covered with a kind of fur.
WILLIAM L.
What you supposed to be feelers were legs, spiders having eight legs,
and no wings nor antennæ. If you could have looked at the threads of
your spider's web through a microscope, you would have seen that each
thread was composed of hundreds of fine strands. Inside the spider's
body are bags filled with a gummy substance, out of which these strands
are drawn through several knobs, called spinnerets, each of which is
full of exceedingly tiny tubes, a thousand of them taking up about as
much space as the point of a pin. The spider usually covers its victim,
as yours did the fly, with a sticky substance, and if it is not very
hungry it hangs it up for future use. Spiders live both out doors and
in, and some of them select very splendid habitations. King Solomon
said, "The spider taketh hold with her hands, and is in kings' palaces."
A spider once saved the life of Robert Bruce of Scotland by weaving a
web over the mouth of a cave where he had taken refuge from his enemies.
They saw it, and concluded there was no one inside. Spiders belong to
the order of articulate animals, though they breathe like insects. There
is another peculiarity about the garden spider, which you may have an
opportunity of watching. The liquid silk of which a spider weaves its
web is slowly secreted, and the spider never wastes it. So spiders do
not spin or mend their webs when it is likely to rain, and if you see
them with plenty of work on hand, you may take it as a sign of fine
weather.
* * * * *
ALTON, ILLINOIS.
I am seven years old, and I like the stories in YOUNG PEOPLE very
much, especially "Toby Tyler" and "Phil's Fairies." I like "Tim and
Tip" too. My little brother cried when mamma read how Captain Pratt
whipped Tim. I felt sorry too, and hope Tim won't stay with him
long. My little brother is five years old, and his name is Clay. We
have three cats. The old cat's name is Spot, and the two kittens
are called Browny and Blacky.
ETHEL B.
* * * * *
NAGASAKI, JAPAN.
As some of my little friends in America have asked me to write them
about some Japanese festival through HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, I will
tell them about the "Feast of Lanterns," which has just passed. The
Japanese call it _Bon mat suri_. It took place on the 13th, 14th,
and 15th evenings of the August moon. The first night is not of so
great importance as the other two, for then they only light the
graves of those who have died during the past year. Nagasaki is
right down among hills, and the grave-yards are on their sides.
Some of them are quite covered with graves. On the festival
evenings they light up the grave-yards with lanterns. Sometimes one
grave has from twenty to thirty lanterns, and as they are very
close together, you can imagine how pretty it looks. They hang the
lanterns on bamboo frames, which are made by sticking two or three
bamboos in the ground and fastening others across them. The
Japanese think that on these nights the spirits of their ancestors
come from heaven to see them, and so they make a feast for the
spirits, and offer food and wine. On the third night the spirits
are sent back to heaven in boats made of straw, containing food and
wine. They also have lanterns on the boats. They first parade the
boats around the city, after which they carry them down to the bay,
and wade out into the water as far as they can, then set fire to
them, and push them off. The spirits are supposed to go to heaven
in the flames and smoke. This is the end of the "Feast of
Lanterns."
J. PROVOST S.
* * * * *
I heartily indorse the suggestion made by John W. S. in No. 97, and
have wondered much that the young people, who seem to be such
enthusiastic collectors of all sorts of things, did not think of
adding the beautiful things of the insect world to their cabinets.
I advertised to exchange stamps for insects early in the spring,
thinking that the bright boys and girls whose letters appear in the
Post-office Box would be just the ones to help me with my
collection, but I have had very few responses.
It is a pity there are so few books on the subject in simple
language, and I hope some of our writers will be kind enough to
interest the children in this branch of science. I know by
experience that it is a very fascinating study.
Will John B. T. please tell us how he preserves spiders for the
cabinet?
H. H. K.
* * * * *
JEFFERSON COUNTY, KENTUCKY.
I am a little boy almost eight years old. We live in Jefferson
County, near Louisville, Kentucky, one of the prettiest cities in
the United States. Papa gets HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for us every
week. I have two dear little brothers, Luddie and Charlie, and the
sweetest little sister six months old. She can _pat a cake_, and
laugh when she sees us boys coming, for we have lots of fun
together. Her name is Annie Estelle. We have four kittens--Flossy,
Tabby, Dot, and Snow. I have a fine dog named Tip. Papa says he
will be a watch-dog when he grows up, but he does not look much
like it now, for I can hide him in my hat. We have a calf named
Bob. We do not play with him much for fear he may butt us. We are
going up to our grandfather's next week on a visit, papa, mamma,
and all of us, and we intend to take Tip. Mamma says this letter is
long enough, so good-by.
WILLIE R. B.
* * * * *
PLUTON CAÑON, CALIFORNIA.
I live in Oakland, and have come to Pluton Cañon to camp. There is
a high cliff across the road from where we are camping, and every
once in a while the stones come rattling down.
Every evening I see a cunning little gray squirrel running down to
get a drink of water.
Just below the cliff there is a large and swift stream, which has a
great many fish in it, and where I saw a whirlpool the first day I
came here. There is a rock on the cliff which looks just like a man
laughing.
I have a brother who to-day started with me to get some pine gum.
We had to cross the stream to get it. When we were about to cross
it, a wasp stung my brother twice, and me once.
LOUISA L. S.
* * * * *
SLATE HILL, NEW YORK.
My kitten's name is Tricksy, and she deserves the name, for she is
full of play, and as cunning as she can be. There is an old cat
that comes prowling around every night to get something to eat. We
have to drive her away, or else she will come into the house. The
other night our puss knew that mamma did not want the old cat to
come in the house, so she ran after her and chased her off. I think
puss has caught eight mice and one meadow-mole.
We have a cow named Daisy, two horses, named Billy and Fanny, and
two pigs, named Grunt and Squeal.
Please tell Jimmy Brown to write about some more of his troubles,
and ask him if he never has anything to be glad about.
I can not tell which of the stories in YOUNG PEOPLE I like best,
but papa thinks Jimmy Brown's sad tales are the best.
ELSIE M. K.
* * * * *
WESTMINSTER, MARYLAND.
I would like to tell the readers of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE about my
goat Dixie. He is almost white, and very large and strong, and can
haul a barrel of flour from the dépôt, a half-mile off. I have a
nice strong wagon and harness. I curry him, and treat him like a
horse. I take the girls out riding, and often carry vegetables from
place to place for our friends. Everybody knows Dixie. He loves
mamma, and will follow her anywhere for bread, of which he is very
fond; but he likes sister Mary best of all. My cousin says he is
worth between twenty and thirty dollars, and I think so too. He
walked into the parlor one day.
WILLIE T. S. (aged 5).
* * * * *
PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.