CHAPTER XXIV.

PHIL RYDER PAYS A DEBT.

In a very few minutes Phil Ryder hastened back to where Alaric awaited

him. "Now you come with me," he said, cheerily, "and we'll end this

starvation business in a hurry. I won't take you to the hotel, for those

swell waiters are too slow about serving things, and when a fellow is

hungry he don't care so much about style as he does about prompt

attention to his wants. I know, for I've been there myself. There's a

little restaurant just around the corner on the avenue that looks as

though it would exactly fill the bill. Here we are."

Almost before he realized what was happening Alaric found himself seated

before the first regular breakfast table that he had seen in weeks,

while the young stranger facing him, who had so unexpectedly become his

host, was ordering a meal that seemed to embrace pretty nearly the whole

bill of fare.

"Bring the coffee and oatmeal first," he said to the waiter, "and see

that there is plenty of cream. If they burn your fingers, so much the

better, for you never saw any one in quite so much of a hurry as we are.

After that you may rush along the other things as fast as you please."

Alaric attempted a feeble protest against the munificence of the order

just given, but Phil silenced him with:

"Now, my friend, don't you fret; I know what you need and what you can

get away with better than you do, for I've experimented considerably

with starving during the past year. As for obligation, there isn't any.

I am only paying a debt that I've owed for a long time."

"I don't remember ever meeting you before," said Alaric, looking up in

surprise from a dish of oatmeal and cream that seemed the very best

thing he had ever tasted.

"No, of course not, and I don't suppose we have ever been within a

thousand miles of each other until now; but I have been in your debt,

all the same. Just about a year ago I was in Victoria without a cent in

my pocket, no friend or even acquaintance that I knew of in the whole

city, and so hungry that it didn't seem as though I had ever eaten

anything in my life. Just as I was most desperate and things were

looking their very blackest, an angel travelling under the name of Serge

Belcofsky came along, and spent his last dollar in feeding me. I vowed

then that I'd get even with him by feeding some other hungry fellow, and

this is the first chance I've run across since. You needn't be afraid,

though, that I am spending my last dollar on you, glad as I would be to

do so if it were necessary. That it isn't is owing to one of the best

fathers in the world, who hasn't had a chance to keep me in funds for so

long a time that he is now trying to make up for lost opportunities."

"You must be very fond of him," said Alaric, who was now at work on

beefsteak and fried potatoes.

"Well, rather," replied Phil, earnestly, "though I never knew how much a

good father was to a boy until I lost him, and had to fight my way alone

through a whole year before I found him again. It's a wonder my hair

didn't turn gray with anxiety while I was hunting him up in the interior

of Alaska; but it's all over now, and I have him safe at last right here

in Tacoma, along with my aunt Ruth and little Nel-te and Jalap--"

"Is he the dog?" asked Alaric, beginning an attack on the omelette.

"Who?"

"Jalap."

"Not much he isn't a dog," laughed Phil. "He is one of the dearest of

sailormen. He's one of the wisest, too, only he lays all of his wisdom

to his old friend Kite Roberson. Besides all that, he is one of the most

comical chaps that ever lived, though he doesn't mean to be, and it's

better than a circus to see him on snow-shoes driving a sledge team of

dogs. I should have brought him over here to cheer you up, only he's off

somewhere among the ships this morning. He says he got the salt-water

habit so badly that he can't keep away from them. Are you ready now for

the buckwheats? Here are half a dozen hot ones to top off with, and

maple-syrup too. Don't they look good, though! I say, waiter, you may as

well bring me a plate of those buckwheats. I forgot to have any at

breakfast."

So Phil rattled on, talking of all sorts of things to keep his guest

amused, and allow him ample opportunity to attend strictly to the

business of eating, without feeling obliged to answer questions or

sustain any part of the conversation.

And how poor, heartsick, hungry Alaric was cheered by the thoughtful

kindness of this strange lad who had so befriended him in his hour of

sorest need! How grateful he was, and how, with each mouthful of food,

strength and courage and hope came back to him, until, when the

wonderful meal was finished, he was ready once more to face the world

with a brave confidence that it should never again get the better of

him! He tried to put some of his gratitude into words, but was promptly

interrupted by his host, who said:

"Nonsense! You've nothing to thank me for. I told you I owed you this

breakfast, and besides, though I haven't eaten very much myself, I have

certainly enjoyed it as much as any meal of my life. Now we have a few

minutes left before I must go, and I want you to tell me something of

yourself. What is your name? Where is your home? And how did you happen

to get into this fix?"

"My name is Rick Dale," began Alaric, who did not feel that he could

disclose his real identity under the circumstances, "and my home is in

San Francisco; but it is closed now. My mother is dead. I don't know

just where my father is, and I was left with some people whom I disliked

so much that I just"-- Here he hesitated, and Phil, noting his

embarrassment, hastened to say,

"Never mind the particulars; I had no business to ask such questions

anyway."

"Well," continued Alaric, "the result of it all is that I am here

looking for work. I had a job, but it didn't pay anything, and I lost it

about two weeks ago. Now I am trying to find another."

"What kind of a job do you want?"

"Anything, so long as it is honest work that will provide food,

clothing, and a place to sleep."

"In that case," said Phil, thoughtfully, "I don't know but what I can

put you in the way of one, though--"

"It must be a job for two of us," interposed Alaric, "for I have a

friend who is in the same fix as myself."

"I only wish I had known that in time to have him breakfast with us,"

said Phil; "but the job I am thinking of, if it can be had at all, will

serve for two of you as well as for one. You see, it is this way. There

is a Frenchman over at the hotel whose name is Filbert, and who--"

Just here both lads started at the sound of a shrill whistle announcing

the hour of noon.

"I had no idea it was so late," exclaimed Phil, "and I must run; for we

leave here on the one-o'clock train."

"I must hurry too, for I promised to meet Bonny at noon," said Alaric.

"Who is Bonny?"

"The friend I told you of."

"Then I want you to give this to him from me, for fear he may not have

found any breakfast." So saying Phil slipped something hard and round

into Alaric's hand. "Now good-by, Rick Dale," he said. "I hope we may

meet again sometime. At any rate, be sure to call on Monsieur Filbert at

the hotel this afternoon. I guess you can get a job from him; but even

if you don't, always remember that, as my friend Jalap Coombs says,

'It's never so dark but what there's a light somewhere.'"

Then the lads parted, one filled with the happiness that results from an

act of kindness, and the other cheered and encouraged to renewed effort.

With grateful and loving glances Alaric watched Phil Ryder until he

disappeared in the direction of the hotel, and then hastened to keep his

appointment with Bonny. On the road leading to the wharves he passed a

tall, lank figure, whose whole appearance was that of a sailor. His

shrewd face was weather-beaten and wrinkled, but so kindly and smiling

that Alaric could not help but smile from sympathy as they met.

He found Bonny impatiently awaiting him, and in such cheerful spirits as

to be hardly recognizable for the despondent, half-starved lad of two

hours before.

"Hello, Rick!" he shouted, as his friend approached. "I know you've had

good luck, for I see it in your face."

"Indeed I have!" replied Alaric; "and, what's more, I've had the best

breakfast I ever ate in my life."

"That's what I meant by luck; and I've had the same."

"What's more," continued Alaric, "I have brought something that was sent

especially to you, for fear you hadn't found anything to eat."

Thus saying, he handed over a big bright silver dollar.

"Well, if that don't beat the owls!" exclaimed Bonny at sight of the

shining coin, "for here is his twin-brother that was handed to me to

give to you, or rather to the first fellow I met who needed it more than

I did."

"I must be the one then," said Alaric, joyously, "for I haven't a cent

to my name, and as you now have two dollars, I'm willing to divide with

you. But who gave it to you, and how did he happen to?"

"The queerest and dearest old chap I ever saw. You know how badly I was

feeling when we separated. Well, that was nothing to what came

afterwards. I set out to board every ship in port until I should find a

cook or steward who would fill me up and let me have something extra to

bring to you. On the first half-dozen or so I was treated worse than a

dog, and fired ashore almost before I opened my mouth. It made me feel

meaner than dirt, and but for thinking of how disappointed you would be

if I came back as miserable as I went, I should have given up in

despair. I must say, though, that all the fellows who treated me that

way were Dagoes, Dutch, or Chinamen.

"At length I boarded a Yankee bark that carried an Irish steward, and

the minute I said I was hungry he cried out:

"'Don't spake a wurrud, lad, for ye couldn't do yer looks justice. Jist

be aisy, and come wid me.'

"With that he led me to a sort of a cuddy at the forward end of the

after deck-house, and set me down to such a spread as I haven't seen

since I left Cape Cod. There was cold roast beef, corned beef, potatoes,

bread and butter, pie, pickles, coffee, and--well, it would be no use to

tell all the things that steward gave me to eat, for you just wouldn't

believe it. He laid 'em all out, told me to pitch in, and then went off,

so, as he said, I'd be free to act according to nature.

"I sat there and ate until I hadn't room for as much as a huckleberry.

As I was looking at the last piece of squash pie, and thinking what a

pity it was that it must be left, I heard a chuckle behind me, and

turned around in a hurry. There stood one of the mates and the dear old

chap I was just telling you about.

"'Why don't you eat it, son?' says the mate.

"'Reason enough,' says I; 'because I can't; but if you don't mind, sir,

I'd like awfully to take it to my partner in starvation,' meaning you.

"'Who is he? And how does he happen to be starved?' says the dear old

chap. Then I up and told them the whole story of our experience on the

_Fancy_, being chased by the revenue-men, and all, and it tickled 'em

most to death.

"When I got through, the stranger, who was just down visiting the

vessel, slipped a dollar into my hand, and told me to give it to the

first chap I met who needed it more than I did. He said he used to know

Cap'n Duff, and told me a lot of yarns about him as we walked back here

together."

"Was his name Jalap Coombs?" asked Alaric.

"I expect it must have been, for he had a lot to say about somebody

named Kite Roberson, who allus useter call him 'Jal.' Why? Do you know

him?"

"Yes. That is, I feel as if I did. But, Bonny, I mustn't stop to tell

you of my experiences now, for I have made an important business

engagement for both of us uptown, and we must attend to it at once."

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

IN THE TOWER OF MANY STORIES.

HENRY THE EIGHTH.

(_In Two Parts._)

BY MRS. LEW. WALLACE.

II.

[Illustration: THE MIDDLE TOWER.]

Among Anne's maids of honor was a delicate girl of exquisite charm, and

as witty as the Queen herself. Jane Seymour came of a haughty house, but

had missed the imperious bearing that was the heritage of her race. The

winsome presence, all sweetness and grace, caught the restless fancy of

the ungoverned King, and so bewitched was Bluebeard that he determined

to slip off the bonds that bound him, and lead another wife to the altar

and throne. To be sure, he had worn the light fetters of his second

marriage loosely enough, and how to rid himself of the tireless devotion

of Anne must have made him ponder and hesitate.

Not for long did he ever wait; patience was not a trait of even the best

of the Tudors. One day, at Greenwich Palace, the Constable of London

Tower suddenly appeared, and announced it was the King's pleasure that

the Queen should at once depart with him. She was in an agony of terror,

but calmly said, "If it be the King's pleasure, I obey." Without

changing her dress, she entered her barge and was silently rowed to the

Traitors' Gate. Under the fatal black arch she knelt and solemnly

protested her innocence, prayed and wept, then laughed, and cried again,

distracted like one insane. Two of her worst enemies were appointed

ladies in waiting, in reality to watch her every movement day and night,

tormenting the woful prisoner with questions. "The King wist what he did

when he put such women about me," cried the wretched Anne. Faithful

friends were lodged near, but not allowed to come close enough to ward

off her persecutors.

On the fourth day of her captivity the Queen wrote a heart-breaking

letter to the brute she called her sweet lord. It is so touching and

tender I wish for more space that I could give it in full. The original

MS. you may see in the British Museum. She prayed for a lawful trial,

not before her enemies, and generously begged she alone might be

condemned, if any. Here is the conclusion:

"If ever I have found favor in your sight, if ever the name of Anne

Boleyn has been pleasant in your ears, then let me obtain this

request, and I will so leave to trouble your Grace any further,

with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your Grace in His

good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions.

"From my doleful prison in the Tower this 6th of May.

"Your most loyal and ever faithful wife,

"ANNE BOLEYN."

[Illustration: ANNE BOLEYN.]

The trial was held the 16th May in the great Hall of the Tower, the

scene of much iniquity, but none so black as this. The twenty-six "lords

triers" were picked men who knew Henry's will and pitiless cruelty. The

defenceless prisoner had no counsel or advice of any kind, but she bore

herself composedly, and fearlessly held up her hand and pleaded not

guilty. The records of the trial were destroyed, but it is said she

defended herself with power and eloquence. It was a mere form; she was

sentenced to be burnt or beheaded in three days, at the pleasure of the

sovereign, and was requested to lay aside her crown, which she did,

swearing herself innocent of any crime against her husband. Then

clasping her hands, she appealed from earth to heaven, to the One who

judgeth quick and dead: "O Father! O Creator! Thou who art the Way, the

Truth, and the Life! Thou knowest that I have not deserved this fate!"

The whole proceeding was a bitter mockery, the deliberate sentence of

death of a wife to make room for another.

She knew him too well to entreat for life or an extension of time. Three

days more were allowed her, and of the hundreds the lovely lady had

befriended not one was bold enough to stand between the murderer and the

Queen. He was surrounded by flatterers who compared him to Absalom for

beauty, Solomon for wisdom, and heroes ancient and modern for courage.

And the same day she was condemned bluff King Harry signed the death

warrant of his "entirely beloved Anne Boleyn."

In the dismal Tower she wrote her own requiem, so pitiful, yet so brave

a thing few souls could dare. It begins:

"O Death! rock me asleep!

Bring on my quiet rest;

Let pass my very guiltless ghost

Out of my careful breast.

Ring out the doleful knell;

Let its sound my death tell;

For I must die.

There is no remedy,

For now I die!"

Her old friend, Sir Henry Kingston, was charged to announce the dreadful

sentence that she be beheaded at noon the 19th of May, 1536, and,

instead of the axe, the King graciously ordered she be beheaded by a

sword; there was an expert in the horrid business who should be sent for

to come from Calais.

Said the messenger, "I told her that the pain would be little, it was so

subtle"; and then she replied, "I have heard say the executioner is very

good, and my neck is very slender," upon which she clasped it with her

two hands and smiled serenely; was even cheerful.

A few minutes before noon the Queen of England, attended by four maids

of honor, appeared on Tower Hill, dressed in a robe of black damask,

with deep white crape ruffling her neck, a black velvet hood on her

head. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, and her beauty, says an

eye-witness, was fearful to look upon.

In sight of the scaffold she made a speech, resigned and gentle: "I come

here to die, not to accuse my enemies.... I pray God to save the King,

and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler and more merciful

Prince was there never. To me he was ever a good and gentle sovereign

lord.... Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, and I heartily

desire you all to pray for me."

Then she bade her weeping ladies farewell, refusing to allow her eyes to

be covered, and the skilful Frenchman, avoiding her reproachful glance,

with one blow of the sharp steel parted the burning brain from the true

heart, and Anne Boleyn entered the strange peace we call death.

The dripping head with its soft silky tresses and the dis-severed body

reeking in blood, were thrown into an old elm chest that had been used

for keeping arrows, and carelessly buried in the chapel, without hymn or

prayer.

Again the Tower guns sounded--the signal for death, not life. The solemn

knell was music of wedding-bells in the listening ear of Henry. Dressed

for the chase, he had stood under a spreading oak waiting impatiently

till the sun-dial told noon, when the heavy booming filled the air. "Ha!

ha!" he cried, with unnatural joy. "The deed is done. Uncouple the

hounds, and away!" And mounting his horse, he rode at fiery speed to his

bride expectant at Wolf Hall. The peerless Seymour, the pure white

lily-bud, in the freshness of life's morning married Bluebeard the very

next day.

The wedding feast was spread, the coronation a cloudless splendor;

submissive courtiers held to the ancient proverb that the crown covers

all mistakes, and they kissed the bloody hand of their master and hung

on the smiles of the youthful Queen.

The sins of Anne Boleyn lie lightly on her now. Whatever her vanity and

follies, she was a thousand thousand times too good for her "merciful

Prince."

The fair Seymour, happily for herself, died the next year after her

marriage, and Henry made offers to several royal ladies, and to an

Italian Princess who had the shrewdness to decline, saying she might

consider the proposal if she had two heads, but could not afford to lose

her only one by the axe. And it was a good answer. A German Princess

married him, and was divorced for Catherine Howard, who was murdered as

Anne Boleyn had been; and then came the last wife, Catherine Parr, widow

of Lord Latimer. By that time the King was grown a beast, with savage

will unbroken, ready to kill, kill, kill whatever opposed caprice or

whim. She lived to nurse him, this proud lady, till his bloated body

almost rotted; he became a loathsome object, polluting the air (I may

say the world), fearful to approach; and she paid a high price for her

diamond coronet and whatever else came by the death of the despot she

outlived. Of the latter days of Henry the Eighth the less said the

better.

* * * * *

Beloved, these are sorry tales to tell young readers, but the Tower is a

dreary place, and the greater portion of its history was made in

barbarous ages. The historian mousing through the records of a terrible

past has little pleasure, except in the thought that these murderous old

days are ended forever. It is now a government store-house and armory.

* * * * *

One more little story, and we say good-by to the famous Tower whose

foundations were laid by Julius Cæsar.

Not every reader of its history remembers that the greatest of England's

rulers was once prisoner there. When Bloody Mary, daughter of Henry the

Eighth and Katherine of Aragon, was Queen, she had Elizabeth, daughter

of Anne Boleyn, arrested for conspiracy. The Princess, who could look

down a lion, clad herself in white to proclaim her innocence, and rode

to her prison in an open litter, that she might be seen by the people. A

sick girl, faint and pale, her mien was lofty and defiant. It was but

eleven days since Lady Jane Grey had been beheaded, and no one, high or

low, knew when he might be marched to the dungeon or the block.

At the Traitors' Gate the Princess Elizabeth refused to land. One of the

lords attending told her she must not choose, and, as it was raining,

offered her his cloak. She dashed it from her "with a good dash," and

setting her foot on the stairs, exclaimed: "I am no traitor! Here lands

as true a subject, being prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs.

Before Thee, O God, I speak it, having no other friend but Thee."

Instead of passing through the opened gates, she sat on a cold wet

stone, determined not to enter the prison of her own mother. However,

the dauntless maid was forced to yield. The death of her half-sister

made her Queen, and she reigned long and wisely, with a strange mixture

of weakness in the midst of her wisdom and strength.

Once in a time of peril she mounted a white horse and rode through her

army, very stately, in a steel corselet, bareheaded, her page bearing

her plumed helmet, and spoke in words unsurpassed for appeal:

"My loving people, we have been persuaded by some that are careful

of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed

multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I do assure you I do not

desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let

tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that under God I have

placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and

good will of my subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you as

you see me at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but

being resolved in the midst and heat of battle to live or die

amongst you all, to lay down for my God, and for my kingdoms, and

for my people my honor, and my blood even in the dust. I know I

have the body of a weak, feeble woman; but I have the heart of a

King, and of a King of England, too, and think foul scorn that

Parma of Spain, or any Prince of Europe, should dare to invade the

borders of my realm; to which, rather than any dishonor should grow

by me, I myself will take up arms. I myself will be your General,

judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I

know already for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and

crowns, and we do assure you, on the word of a Prince, they shall

be duly paid you.

"For the mean time my Lieutenaut-General shall be in my stead, than

whom never Prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not

doubting but by your obedience to my General, by your concord in

camp and your valor in the field, we shall shortly have a famous

victory over these enemies of my God, of my kingdoms, and of my

people."

No wonder the troops fell on their knees as one man, and shouted

themselves hoarse in applause for their lion Queen, mother of all true

Englishmen.

* * * * *

[Illustration: HENRY THE SEVENTH'S CHAPEL.]

The gentlest of peacemakers is Time. The two daughters of Henry the

Eighth--Mary and Elizabeth--so wide apart and repellent in life, are at

one now. Henry the Seventh's Chapel of Westminster Abbey contains a

narrow vault that holds what remains of the rival Queens. Their tomb

allows no other tenant, and they will never more be divided. In calm

after storm the unquiet Tudor sisters lie there alone, the leaden casket

of Elizabeth resting on the coffin of Mary, well named the Bloody. Heirs

of a contested throne, they sleep together in their Palace of Peace

awaiting the call of the Angel of the Resurrection.

THE END.

DAISIES AND DANDELIONS.

"Doctor, lawyer, merchant, priest,

Rich man, poor man, beggar-man--"

The last petal was reached as my little friend came to "beggar-man."

"Oh, dear," she said, with a comical look of make-believe distress on

her pretty face. "A beggar-man for a husband! It's too dreadful for

anything! Naughty daisy! I don't believe you are a good fortune-teller."

She was right. The daisy is not a good fortune-teller. But it is a nice

flower, or rather group of flowers, to study. The whole yellow centre is

a crowded mass of flowers, and the white petals along the edge are not

petals at all, but _rays_.

Squeeze a daisy between your thumb and finger. Let the rays drop off,

but keep one of the tiny florets, as they are called, and place it under

a reading-glass or, better still, a pocket microscope. You cannot spend

two or three dollars better than for a pocket-microscope, which will

make a small seed look as large as a pea. In our daisy floret we shall

find all the parts which the larger flowers have. The calyx is low down,

clinging to a single hard seed. Such a seed is called an _achenium_

(plural, achenia). The corolla is a tube with five points cut in the

top. There are five stamens, joined, and making a ring by their anthers.

The pistil is in the centre, where it belongs, with stigmas, and the

style cut in two at the top. The flowers grow on a smooth white

receptacle. There are two more things to notice about flowers belonging

to this great Composite family: one, that each floret has a long, narrow

bract standing beside it; the other, that the calyx-cup is crowned with

stiff points, or coarse teeth, or bristles, or feathery-looking things.

These are called the _pappus_. In the daisy there is no true pappus, but

you have seen it in thistledown and in the dandelion-seed. The pappus

serves for little wings for the flower, by which the wind blows the seed

about.

Perhaps you like yellow daisies better than the too common white ones.

Their seed was brought to us with clover-seed from the West, and now the

yellow daisy or cone-flower is a tiresome weed to farmers about New

Jersey, and soon will be over all New England. The florets are dark

brown, and grow on a pointed receptacle. It is certainly a handsome

thing, but it is a weed all the same. It differs from the white daisy in

one particular. The rays of the white daisy have each a pistil like the

florets, while the rays of the cone-flower are neutral--that is, have no

pistil.

The marnta, or mayweed, is a small daisy growing on sandy roads. Its

leaves are prettily cut, and smell like tansy leaves. The handsome

asters which keep goldenrods company in autumn, marigolds, thorough

worts, and hosts of others belong to the daisy family.

The dandelion has been called "the bright eye of spring." Did you ever

curl its hollow stem or blow off its seeds? Blow three times, and you

will have as many children as there are seeds left standing, so says

this bit of flower-lore. The dandelion has no rays around the edge, but

all the florets alike have rays. So the corollas, instead of being

five-pointed tubes, are all spread out flat like the rays of the daisy.

There are not so many flowers of this kind, but perhaps you know the

wild-lettuce, the fall dandelion, the hawkweed, and the chicory. The

last is a pretty blue flower. Blue flowers are rather rare. Red, yellow,

and pink are commoner.

One of the hawkweeds has handsome leaves, all clustered at the root,

light purple underneath, veined with darker purple. If you find such a

rosette of leaves, with a tall slim stem bearing a few tassel-shaped

yellow blossoms, you will have one of my favorites. Somebody has given

it a bad name--rattlesnake-weed. It is not a weed, and only in its

purple coloring may there be some suggestion of a snake-skin.

You will see now how the Composites are divided into two classes. The

first is _tubular_, in which, like the daisy, ray-flowers grow only

around the margin; the second, _ligulate_, in which, like the dandelion,

all the corollas are alike, spreading out and flat.

These flowers are surrounded by an involucre composed of small leaves in

rows, each one a scale. In thistles the scales are prickly.

A BRAVE WAR CORRESPONDENT.

It is a pleasure to cite the following case of an American correspondent

whom Lord Wolseley encountered during the Ashantee campaign, and it

cannot be done better than to cite it as the General told it, in a

reminiscent mood, not long since: "It was at the beginning of the

campaign, just after our landing, when a square-built little man came up

to me, and said, speaking slowly, and with an unmistakable American

accent: 'General, allow me to introduce myself. I am the correspondent

of the _New York_ ----. I--.' Too busy to attend to him, I cut him short

with, 'What can I do for you, sir?' He replied, imperturbably, with the

same exasperating slowness, 'Well, General, I want to be as near you as

I can, if there is any fightin' to be seen.' 'Captain So-and-so has

charge of all the arrangements concerning correspondents,' I rejoined,

curtly; 'you had better see him.' And with this I turned on my heel and

left him. I saw no more of my correspondent with the aggravating

coolness and slowness of speech for many a day. I did not even know

whether he was accompanying the column or not. Personally speaking, I

was only in danger once during the whole expedition. It was shortly

before we entered Coomassic. I had pressed forward with the advanced

troops, hoping to break the last effort at resistance and have done with

the affair, when the enemy, utilizing the heavy covert, came down and

fairly surrounded us. For a few minutes the position was critical, and

every man had to fight, for the enemy's fire was poured in at close

quarters. They pressed upon us from all sides, dodging from tree to

tree, and continually edging closer, hoping to get hand to hand. In the

hottest of it my attention was caught by a man in civilian's clothes who

was some fifteen or twenty yards in front of me, and who was completely

surrounded by the advancing savages. He seemed to pay no heed to the

danger he was in, but, kneeling on one knee, took aim and fired again

and again, and I seemed to see that every time he fired a black man

fell. I was fascinated by his danger and coolness. As our main body came

up and the savages were driven back, I went forward to see that no harm

came to my civilian friend, who rose just as I reached him. To my

astonishment it was the correspondent of the _New York_ ----, and he

began again, in the same slow, calm way, 'Well, General----.' Again I

interrupted him. 'You were lucky to escape. Didn't you see that you were

surrounded?' 'Well, General,' he began again, 'I guess I was too much

occupied by the niggers in front to pay much attention to those

behind.'"

NURSERY BALLADS.

THE WANDERING COW.

"The cow has escaped from the Ark!" cried Noah--"the cow has escaped

from the Ark!

And wandered away and hid from the day somewhere in the nursery dark;

So, Billie, be careful, and, Jimmie, go slow; 'twould be horridly awful

I vow,

If you in your gropings should happen to step on a poor little dun-brown

cow

"Now where shall we look for a little dun cow--just where is she likely

to be?

Far off in the camp of the soldiers tin or swimming hard by in the sea--

A-swimming with joy in the saw-dust waves and tossing the boats on her

horns,

Or solemnly chewing the lacquered manes of the Japanese unicorns?

"Or else do you think she has clambered up the sides of the

mantel-piece,

And there, to the tick of the nickel clock, is taking a moment of ease?

Or, horrible thought, oh, terrible thought! must we fearsomely search

for her

In the zinc flue-pipe that leads far down through the nursery register?

"Do you think that perhaps she has wandered off and has tumbled adown

the stairs,

Or can she be up on the bureau there a-combing her painted hairs?

Is she down in the kitchen or up on the roof, or hid in the attic cold,

Or has she run off to the music-box to list to the "Warrior Bold"?

"Oh, where, oh, where would a dun cow go? Pray tell me if you can,"

cried Noah,

"The rain's coming on, and I want to close up and bolt fast my Arkian

door.

'Twould never do to be caught in the rain out there on the cold wet

moor,

For her color's not fast, and if it comes off she'll be a done cow for

sure."

CARLYLE SMITH.

FROM CHUM TO CHUM.

BY GASTON V. DRAKE.

XV.--FROM JACK TO BOB.

WHITE MOUNTAINS.

[Illustration]

DEAR BOB,--I haven't written for some time because I tried an

experiment over in the bowling-alley one day week before last which

wasn't pleasant. I tried to put my finger in between two of the

balls and get it out again before anything happened and couldn't,

so I've had to have my whole hand swathed in a bandage ever since,

and that's why Sandboys is writing this letter for me. It was too

bad it happened the way it did, because we've been having a bowling

turnement, and our side was way ahead when I smashed my finger, and

we got beaten on the last game by five pins. Sandboys says when he

was young his life was saved by a bowling-ball. It was before all

the panthers that used to be thick in these mountains had all died

out. They used to play havick with this part of the country eating

up all the sheep and cows and horses and even tourists with good

money in their pockets, and very few families living hereabouts

dared to have their windows open at night in the summer-time for

fear a panther might jump in and devour them up, even on the top

floor. He says they are wonderful jumpers those panthers. He has

seen one go up Mount Washington in sixty-three springs, and come

down in twenty-nine, and as for jumping from the piazza of this

hotel up into the cupola he says that would be about as easy for a

healthy panther as falling off a chair would be to you or me. He

lived over at a place called Littleton at that time and had a room

in the top floor of his father's house. It was in midsummer and an

awfully hot night, but being afraid of the panthers that were

prowling around, when he went to bed he shut his window and his

shutters up tight. Three or four times some of the panthers tried

to break through and banged up against the shutters pretty hard,

but without success, and finally an hour went by without any more

attempts being made, and forgetting that strategy was one of the

panther's strong points Sandboys thought they'd gone away and that

it would be safe to open his window and get a breath of fresh air

because his room had become like an oven, being right under the

roof. So he opened the window softly and threw the shutters wide,

peeping carefully out first to see if there were any panthers in

sight. Unfortunately he looked down into the yard and didn't see

the wild animal sitting on top of the telegraph pole across the

street, waiting for his pray. "Good," said Sandboys, "they're all

gone. I can get a chance to cool off." And he crept back into bed

leaving the window wide open, and then the trouble began. He'd

hardly got into bed when there came a fearful bang on the side wall

just over him. The horrid beast that had been perched on the

telegraph pole opposite had jumped across the street, through the

window and landed ker-flump against the wall. Fortunately the force

of the bang stunned the panther for a minute and Sandboys had

presence of mind enough to snatch his pillow out of its case and to

pull the pillow-case over the panther's head. It was the work of an

instant, as the story-books say, and then he was off. That is,

Sandboys was off. He fled through the window, dropped down to the

soft earth and made a bee-line for the hotel. "Why did you go to

the hotel?" I asked. "Because," he replied, "nobody else ever went

there and I thought that would be the last place in which an animal

with ingenious instinctiveness would think of looking for me."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

My, but Sandboys is wise, but it didn't work. The panther soon

recovered from his stun and after pawing at it for a minute managed

to get the pillow-case off his head, and began to look around for

Sandboys. He looked under the bed, and in the wardrobe and maybe in

the bureau drawers. Nobody knows where he didn't look, and finally

seeing that the door was still locked he of course knew that

Sandboys had escaped by the window which shows you what sagacious

animals panthers can be when they try. Well, when the panther saw

that, he was mad. When panthers start out to pray they want to

pray, and if they don't pray they want to know why, being, as I

said, sagacious. So he says to himself it's Sandboys or nothing for

supper and out he starts in pursuit and as luck would have it,

being hungry, he thought he'd stop at the hotel a minute and take a

bite out of the landlord. He stopped and the first thing he knew

was that he was face to face with Sandboys. Sandboys was

_nonplussed_--which is Latin for rattled--for a minute and so was

the panther, for Sandboys was the last person he expected to find

there. The panther's surprise was Sandboys' chance and he took it.

He rushed from the room before the panther had recovered and was

soon on the top floor whence, by a back staircase he rushed down,

and out into the night. But the panther started in pursuit as

usual. As he ran along Sandboys reasoned thus: "Nobody who has ever

been to that hotel once, ever was known to go back again. I'll go

back and delude the beast," which he did, but the door was locked

and he had to take refuge in the bowling-alley. But the panther

knew a thing or two and as Sandboys went in one door of the alley

and locked the door after him and threw the keys away, he climbed

in the window at the other end and there they were again, face to

face: Sandboys at one end of the alley, the panther at the other

and all was dark except one could see the glittering eye of the

other. The panther was delighted. Everything seemed to be going his

way and Sandboys was in despair. Escape seemed impossible. "I'll

play with him," thought the panther and he took one step and

crouched, smiling softly to himself when all of a sudden Sandboys

thought, "Here I'm the champion bowler of this town, it's my only

chance." The panther took another step and crouched. Sandboys took

a ball. "I'll aim between his eyes and hit his nose," said Sandboys

and he let go. It was dark, but it was a strike. The ball rolled

thunderously down the alley. The panther didn't know what it was,

and the first thing he knew as he laid his nose flat in the middle

of the alley the ball came crashing into it, broke his neck and he

lay dead, and Sandboys was saved.

How's that for an adventure?

Yours truly JACK per Sandboys.

[Illustration]

P.S. (in an almost unreadable hand). I don't know what Sandboys has

told you in this letter from me, but whatever it is, the head

waiter says it must be a exagravation because Sandboys is given to

exagravations--by which I mean he draws the long bow when he tells

things about himself. Love to all,

JACK.

[Illustration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]

[Illustration: LONDON ATHLETIC CLUB GROUNDS.]

The spring meeting of the London Athletic Club was held on the club

grounds at Stamford Bridge on April 11th. There were three scholastic

events on the card, and as they do things somewhat differently in

England from the way we do them over here, it may be interesting to the

readers of this Department to hear of how this meeting was conducted.

The first event for the schools was a 120-yard hurdle race on turf over

ten hurdles 3 ft. 6 in. high. The English hurdles are fixed firmly in

the ground, so that hitting an obstacle there means a fall--and this

happened at these games to at least one man in each heat. After all,

however, it seems a better arrangement than our way, for it compels the

racers to jump the hurdles, and if a fall does result it is a good deal

more like sport to fall on turf than to carry away several ounces of

cinders in one's face and arms. As may be seen from the accompanying

illustration, the course is laid towards the grand stand, instead of

past it, which does not afford so good a view of a race as might

otherwise be the case.

One pleasant feature of the occasion was that the in-field was kept

perfectly clear. None but the half-dozen officials whose business

required their presence there were allowed inside the track. Another

improvement over our method was that the contestants came out for their

heats without any clownlike bath-robes about them, and trotted down to

their stations unassisted and unaccompanied by a horde of attendants,

trainers, or rubbers. Their costumes, too, were more sightly than those

seen in America, each man's shirt being provided with quarter sleeves.

In many cases the hem of the sleeves and the bottoms of the running

trousers were trimmed with the school colors, and the emblem, when the

contestant wore any, was generally small and inconspicuous. In America,

as we all know, there is frequently more emblem than athlete. The

crouching start has not yet become popular in England; in fact, in all

these races only one man leaned on his hands. The rest stood up, and

they were by no means as steady on their marks as they would have been

if they had adopted the American method of starting.

The hurdle-race was run in two heats and a final, and resulted in a win

for Pilkington of Clifton School, who, I take it, is a relative of the

Cambridge athlete who came over last fall with the English team that

competed against Yale. His time was 17-2/5 sec., which is very fast over

turf, and which he could doubtless improve upon on a cinder track. The

best interscholastic record for the same event in this country was made

by E. C. Perkins, of the Hartford High-School, at the Connecticut

H.-S.A.A. games in '94, and was 17 sec. Jarvis of Bedford was second,

and Kember of Ramsgate was third.

On the programme this race was set down as "120 yards hurdles Public

Schools Championship Challenge Shield," with the additional information

that the shield was "presented by Godfrey and Cecil Shaw." The former

will be remembered as having given Stephen Chase a hard tussle over the

hurdles at the international games last fall. In addition to this

championship shield, which stands for a number of years, and on which

the winner each year presumably has his name engraved, there was a first

prize of a silver cup and a second prize of a silver beaker. This idea

of having a challenge shield is an excellent one, as it adds an

incentive to true sportsmanship, and makes the honor of winning the race

greater than it would otherwise be. It would be a good fashion to

introduce challenge cups and shields in this country.

The quarter-mile was run in three heats and a final. This was also for a

championship challenge cup, and for three individual prizes. Harrison of

Haileybury, who had the honor of seeing his name set down on the

programme as the "holder" of the challenge cup, because he won it last

year, was not fast enough on this occasion to maintain his supremacy. He

took second place in his heat, and as his time for second was the

fastest second of any of the heats, he was allowed to run in the finals,

the programme stating that "First in each heat, and fastest second, to

start in final." In this last heat were Holland and Hardie of

Giggleswick, Davison of Sutton Valence, and Harrison. Davison ran too

easily at first, and was some fifteen yards behind the rest at the 220

mark; but he then came away in great style. He was too late, however, to

catch Holland, who won in 53-2/5 sec., with Davison second, and Hardie

third. The best American interscholastic time for this event was made by

T. E. Burke, the champion, in 1894, at the New England interscholastic

games, when he was at the Boston English High-School.

RECORDS OF THE N.Y.I.S.A.A.

Event. Record.

100-yard dash 10-3/8 sec.

100-yard dash (Jun.) 11 "

220-yard dash 22-4/5 "

220-yard dash (Jun.) 23-4/5 "

440-yard run 52-2/5 "

880-yard run 2 m. 4-1/5 "

Mile run 4 " 52 "

Mile walk 7 " 30-2/5 "

Mile bicycle 2 " 34-2/5 "

120-yard hurdle 15-3/5 "

220-yard hurdle 26-3/5 "

High jump 5 ft. 11 in.

Broad jump 21 " 5 "

Putting 12-lb. shot 40 " 3/4 "

Throwing 12-lb. hammer 117 " 5-1/2 "

Pole vault 10 " 3/8 "

Event. Holder.

100-yard dash Wendell Baker, Bettins, 1880.

100-yard dash (Jun.) D. C. Leech, Cutler's, 1890.

220-yard dash E. W. Allen, Berkeley, 1895.

220-yard dash (Jun.) H. Moeller, Col. Gram., 1894.

440-yard run C. R. Irwin-Martin, Berkeley, 1895.

880-yard run J. A. Meehan, Condon, 1895.

Mile run C. Southwick, Harvard, 1893.

Mile walk L. B. Elliman, Berkeley, 1894.

Mile bicycle I. A. Powell, Cutler's, 1895.

120-yard hurdle A. F. Beers, De La Salle, 1895.

220-yard hurdle S. A. Syme, Barnard, 1895.

High jump S. A. W. Baltazzi, Harvard, 1895.

Broad jump F. L. Pell, Cutler's, 1891.

Putting 12-lb. shot A. C. Ayres, Condon, 1895.

Throwing 12-lb. hammer C. R. Irwin-Martin, Berkeley, 1895.

Pole vault E. F. Simpson, Barnard, 1895.

For the mile run ten starters turned out. They stayed bunched for the

first quarter, but by the time three-quarters of the distance had been

covered there were practically only four in the race. Down the straight

Elliot of Giggleswick and Dyke of Sherborne were never more than a yard

apart, and a fine finish resulted in a dead heat. The time was

excellent--4 min. 42-3/5 sec. Both men fell exhausted at the finish, and

Tippets of St. Paul's came in third, not far behind. The best American

interscholastic time for the mile is 4 min. 34-2/5 sec., made by W. T.

Laing of Andover in 1894, at the New England Interscholastics. The

American figures given here are all records, and so the comparison with

the English times is not exactly fair, since the English school records

in every case may of course be better than the performances on this

particular occasion.

The prizes were distributed in a much better way than is done in this

country. After each event Mrs. Walter Rye, whose name appeared on the

programme, presented the winners with their cups. This is a custom which

has not yet been adopted in this country, although at St. Paul's School,

Concord, a young lady usually presents the prizes to the winners at the

spring meeting. It would be a pleasant and graceful feature if, at the

National Games, some lady interested in the sports of our young men in

the schools were invited to hand to them their prizes.

The fourth annual tournament of the Yale Interscholastic Tennis

Association was held a week ago Saturday, on the grounds of the New

Haven Lawn Club. There were thirteen entries from Hartford High,

Hillhouse High, Black Hall, Hopkins Grammar, Taft's, and Hotchkiss

schools. The day was cold and raw, but, nevertheless, the play on the

whole was good.

In the first round the Lyman-Finke match was very interesting. Lyman

made a plucky fight in the last set, but Finke won, 6-2, 6-4. The

Whitmore-Watrous match showed some pretty tennis. In the first set the

score changed many times, each man doing his best to win. Watrous got

it, 9-7. Whitmore won the second set, 6-2, but Watrous took the last

rather easily, 6-2.

The final round was between two Hotchkiss School players, Finke and Coy.

At times the play was excellent, each man showing good judgment and

coolness. Finke won 6-2, 6-1, 6-1. Coy might have done much better, but

he seemed to be afraid to let himself out. Finke made the remarkable

record of winning the tournament without losing a set. He outclassed all

the other players. With practice he ought to develop into a player of

the first class. He plays with coolness and excellent judgment. The

prizes were a cup for first and second, and a banner to the school

winning the greatest number of points, each match won counting one

point. The banner went to Hotchkiss this year, as it did last year.

The Harvard Interscholastic tournament was held the same day on Jarvis

Field, Cambridge, with twelve schools, represented by sixty-seven

entries. With so large a number of contestants, the play dragged on into

the early part of last week, making the finals come too late for proper

notice in the present issue of this Department. Comment will be held

over until next week.

The standard of performance of New York school athletes has improved so

rapidly within the past few years that it is very difficult now to make

any very definite prophecy as to what men will win events at the big

Interscholastic meetings. This year the struggle for the cup will

probably be between Berkeley and Cutler's, with the chances largely in

favor of the former, Barnard's team not being so strong as it was either

last year or the year before. For individual winners next Saturday, I

think it is reasonably certain to count on Moore of Barnard to take

first in the 100, with Harris of Cutler's second. Both men have done

10-2/5 in smaller games this spring, and with this in view we may hope

to see Wendell Baker's 10-2/5 record, which has stood so many years, go

by the board. The junior event for the same distance will be a close

thing between Wilson of Barnard and Leech of Cutler's, the former having

won the event in '94, and the latter having won it last year. Armstead

of Berkeley will get a place, but I doubt if he does better than third.

Moore is beyond any doubt the best sprinter in the New York association,

and will score a double win by taking the 220, unless something

unforeseen occurs. Irwin-Martin of Berkeley should be second, with

Washburn a close third. There is little room for doubt that Martin will

be an easy winner in the quarter, for that is his special event, and

Draper of Cutler's will come in second if Hipple of Barnard does not

crowd him out. It is possible, however, that White of Berkeley, who has

developed great speed of late, may overthrow these place calculations,

and take three more points in the event for Berkeley. Hipple is a man

that Barnard must depend on for a good many points, and as he will be

especially depended upon to take the half-mile, it is possible that he

may not run in the quarter, or, if he does, he may save himself and only

try for a place. He is sure to break the record in the half, and if

these two races do not tire him too much he ought to make a place in the

mile, for he broke the scholastic record for that distance in the

Trinity games only a few weeks ago.

Clark of Condon's is a good man to look to for second in the half-mile.

Bedford of Barnard has not been doing very good work this year, but

unless Turner of Cutler's develops unexpected speed and Hipple

unforeseen endurance, he stands an excellent chance of scoring five

points in the mile run. The high hurdles will go to Beers of De la

Salle, with Bien of Berkeley second. The low hurdles are a fairly sure

thing for Harris of Cutler's, with the other two places in dispute among

O'Rourke of Trinity, Beers, and Bien. Walker of Berkeley should come in

first in the walk, if he can maintain the form he has been displaying

all winter, with Blum of Sachs' second.

In the field events, Irwin-Martin of Berkeley will probably score

another win for his school by taking the hammer, while the shot will

probably also go to Berkeley with Young. Taves of Trinity may be counted

upon for places in both events. No one will approach the record

established by Baltazzi last year in the high jump, but Pell of Berkeley

will probably clear the greatest height, with Wenman of Drisler's and

Brown of Columbia Grammar behind him. In the broad jump Pell also stands

an excellent chance to get first place, unless Harris develops

unexpected ability, and Beers may be able to take the other place. I

think we may count upon seeing the pole-vaulting record broken by

Hulburt, who has been surpassing himself and everybody else in the open

games this spring. The bicycle race will probably go to Cutler's.

INTERSCHOLASTIC RECORDS

Corrected to May 1, 1896.

Event. Record.

100-yard dash 10-1/5 sec.

220-yard dash 22-2/5 "

440-yard run 50-3/5 "

Half-mile run 2 m. 4-1/5 "

Mile run 4 " 34-2/5 "

Mile walk 7 " 17-3/5 "

120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) 17 "

220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) 26-1/2 "

Mile bicycle 2 " 34-1/5 "

Two-mile bicycle 5 " 18-2/5 "

Running high jump 5 ft. 11 in.

Running broad jump 21 " 7 "

Pole vault 10 " 7 "

Throwing 12-lb. hammer 125 "

Throwing 16-lb. hammer 111 " 10 "

Putting 12-lb. shot 40 " 3/4 "

Putting 16-lb. shot 39 " 3 "

Event. Maker.

100-yard dash F. H. Bigelow.

220-yard dash F. H. Bigelow.

440-yard run T. E. Burke.

Half-mile run J. A. Meehan.

Mile run W. T. Laing.

Mile walk A. N. Butler.

120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) E. C. Perkins.

220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) Field.

Mile bicycle I. A. Powell.

Two-mile bicycle Baker.

Running high jump S. A. W. Baltazzi.

Running broad jump Cheek.

Pole vault B. Johnson.

Throwing 12-lb. hammer R. F. Johnson.

Throwing 16-lb. hammer F. G. Beck.

Putting 12-lb. shot A. C. Ayres.

Putting 16-lb. shot M. O'Brien.

Event. School.

100-yard dash Worcester H.-S.

220-yard dash Worcester H.-S.

440-yard run Boston English H.-S.

Half-mile run Condon, N. Y.

Mile run Phillips Academy, Andover.

Mile walk Hillhouse H.-S., New Haven.

120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) Hartford H.-S.

220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) Hartford H.-S.

Mile bicycle Cutler, N. Y.

Two-mile bicycle Hotchkiss, Lakeville, Conn.

Running high jump Harvard, N. Y.

Running broad jump Oakland, Cal., H.-S.

Pole vault Worcester Academy.

Throwing 12-lb. hammer Brookline H.-S.

Throwing 16-lb. hammer Hillhouse H.-S., New Haven.

Putting 12-lb. shot Condon, N. Y.

Putting 16-lb. shot Boston English H.-S.

Event. Time and Place.

100-yard dash N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

220-yard dash N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

440-yard run N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

Half-mile run N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895.

Mile run N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

Mile walk Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895.

120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, 1894.

220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895.

Mile bicycle N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895.

Two-mile bicycle Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895.

Running high jump N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895.

Running broad jump A.A.L. field day, Oct. 16, 1894.

Pole vault N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 15, 1895.

Throwing 12-lb. hammer N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

Throwing 16-lb. hammer Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895.

Putting 12-lb. shot N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895.

Putting 16-lb. shot N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894.

The accompanying table of Interscholastic records should perhaps not

properly be called such, because the records were not made at any single

meeting, but are the best performances made at a number of

interscholastic meetings in various parts of the country. After the

National games, we shall have established regular "Interscholastic"

records, but until then these figures must serve that purpose.

THE GRADUATE.

Questions and Answers.

Frank Southard asks if it is possible to come to New York and obtain a

position. Yes, of course it is. But Frank ought to bear in mind that

there are many young men already here, and that it is always easiest to

get a foothold where one is best known. "J. G." should address the

publishers when in want of a book. If he does not know their names,

apply to a bookseller. All publishers send catalogues upon request, but

some demand a few cents for the same, not so much in payment as to debar

idle requests. That old question about getting into the academies at

West Point and Annapolis has been many times answered. Apply to your

member of Congress. He alone has power to appoint you, and he only in

case of a vacancy. There may be one cadet only at a time at each academy

from each Congressional district. The President has a few appointments,

but they are intended for sons of military or naval officers, and are

rarely or never given to others. This spring we believe the President

has one vacancy to fill, and there are more than one hundred applicants

for it.

* * * * *

Answers to Kinks.

No. 4.

No. 1.--Dora. } D O R A

No. 2.--Obey. } O B E Y

No. 3.--Rear. } STARS. R E A R

No. 4.--Ayry. } A Y R Y

No. 5.--Tremor. No. 6.--Invert. No. 7.--Cable. No. 8.--Aspen. No.

9.--Domineer. (STRIPES.)

* * * * *

No. 5.

Apartment.

Apart-me(a)nt.

Men tap tar.

Men pat rat.

Neat tramp.

Men at trap.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

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[Illustration]

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HARTFORD, CONN.

NEW YORK. CHICAGO.

You are bound to succeed in making HIRES Rootbeer if you follow the

simple directions. Easy to make, delightful to take.

Made only by The Charles E. Hires Co., Philadelphia.

A 25c. package makes 5 gallons. Sold everywhere.

[Illustration: ROYAL BAKING POWDER]

A cream-of-tartar baking powder. Highest of all in leavening

strength.--_Latest United States Government Food Report._

ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., NEW YORK.

Arnold

Constable & Co

* * * * *

Dress Fabrics.

_French Canvas,_

_Wool Grenadine,_

_Silk and Mohair Barege._

* * * * *

CHECK SUITINGS.

_Silk-and-Wool Mixtures,_

_Cheviots, Armures, Serges,_

_Plain Colored Fabrics._

* * * * *

MOHAIRS,

PRINTED CHALLIES.

* * * * *

Broadway & 19th st.

NEW YORK.

BICYCLES

GET MIXED!

PROTECT YOURS!!

For 35 cents we mail your own name and address engraved on a handsome

metal plate. Easy and no expense to attach. Agents wanted. Walter Mfg.

Co., 144 Monroe St., Chicago.

HARPER'S

ROUND TABLE

Not only is it excellent in its written text, but artists make its pages

artistically beautiful.--_Chicago Inter Ocean_, Feb. 22, 1896.

5 CENTS A COPY -- $2.00 A YEAR

[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

[Illustration: BICYCLING]

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.

Continuing the suggestion begun last week regarding bicycling in Europe

during the summer, a word should be said about France. By all means the

cheapest route, considering the comfort, to Paris from New York is by

the smaller boats of the Hamburg line, which take nine or ten days to

reach Havre. It is possible, however, to get a round-trip ticket from

New York to Paris and return, including the ride from Havre to and from

Paris by train, first-class, for a little under $100.

The roads of France--that is, the parts which are usually ridden--are in

the main superior to any roads in the world for bicycling purposes. The

many government military roads are kept in remarkably good condition,

and while they are perhaps not as interesting as the English roads,

which wind about through the country, they are nevertheless better made

in the main, though they go along straight lines. On the whole, for a

first trip it would be better to take the train from Havre to Paris, and

to start from Paris itself. Bicycling in the city itself is very common,

and most of the roads are either macadamized or asphalted. In the

vicinity of the city there are some beautiful roads, such as the run out

to St. Germain, a somewhat shorter one to St. Denis, and, at the other

end of the city, to Versailles. These roads, of course, would be taken

first by any tourist.

It then becomes a question whether the wheelman will take the trip

through Normandy, or will ride or take the train into the middle of

France and wheel through Touraine. Perhaps the pleasantest trip for the

summer would be to ride through Normandy. In that case leave Paris,

passing through St. Germain, following the Seine through a remarkably

beautiful country. The run would carry you through Nantes, Vernon,

Louviers, and Elbeuf, whence you may either turn northward to Rouen, to

see the city and cathedral, or, keeping on, pass through Pont-l'Evêque,

and thence to Trouville. This Normandy coast is covered with summer

resorts that are peculiarly French, and very attractive, therefore, to

the foreigner seeking new sights. Houlgate, Dieppe, and Honfleur are

such places, and will well repay a visit. The trip can then be extended

through Caen, across the peninsula to Coutances, to Granville, or it may

extend out on the peninsula to Cherbourg, and the return to Paris may be

either along the southern edge of Normandy through Alençon, taking in

Chartres and Etampes, or the return journey may be made by train if

there is not sufficient time to ride it both ways on a bicycle.

It is, of course, impossible in this very limited space to give any idea

of the possibilities of France for bicycling, but this trip through

Normandy, including the short one-day runs in the vicinity of Paris,

will make a three or four or five weeks' bicycling tour that will repay

any one for whatever expense he may incur. The southern trip through

Touraine will be best made, unless considerable time is at your

disposal, by taking the train from Paris for Tours. Starting from there,

you should run over different parts of Touraine, visiting the famous

castles of that country, such as Blois and Amboise. All this country,

like Normandy and the vicinity of Paris, is full of good roads, and a

month can be easily spent in riding over Touraine alone. These two

districts of France are perhaps the best suited for bicycling, and

should be recommended to the wheelman as suitable for his first foreign

tour.

H. BERT BLACKWELL.--To train for a half-mile bicycle race, ride on

a track, if possible, or on a good road, ten miles at a reasonably

good rate every day in the week except Sunday. Practise starts

Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday for about twenty minutes, and

Tuesday and Friday ride a half-mile against time, with a

pace-maker, if possible. Two weeks before the race takes place

practise starts for twenty minutes each day, and ride a half-mile

against time four times a week. For diet avoid liquids as much as

possible, except water; eat beef and chops which are moderately

rare, boiled potatoes, and plain vegetables; avoid sweets in the

main, and eat nothing fried. Aside from this, the food question is

not so important as the time of eating, which should be absolutely

regular: breakfast between seven and eight, the same time every

day; a hearty lunch, which should be practically a dinner, at from

half past twelve to one; and a dinner or supper at between six and

half past. Go to bed at ten, and get up at seven. This may well be

considered a severe course of training, and is only for a seasoned

rider.

B. M. WARREN.--Bicycle maps running along the coast of Connecticut

have already been published in the ROUND TABLE. We hope, some time

this summer or in the early fall, to give some of the best routes

through central Connecticut.

E. W. DAVIES.--The best route from Woodstown, New Jersey, to

Trenton, through Philadelphia, is as follows: Leave Woodstown and

proceed to Swedesborough (seven miles), thence to Clarksborough

(six miles), Woodbury (five miles), and Gloucester to the ferry

(four miles), crossing thence to Philadelphia. Leaving

Philadelphia, proceed to Frankfort (seven miles), thence to Bristol

(fifteen miles), and thence to Trenton (nine miles). The road is

moderately good all the way.

[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.

FORMULAS FOR COLORING TRANSPARENCIES.

As we have received many inquiries in regard to the colors used in

making the tinted transparencies described in No. 857 of the ROUND

TABLE, we give the following formulas for preparing the coloring

solutions, which are by M. Gachinot, Paris, France, all of which can be

successfully used. Having printed the plate according to the directions

given, immerse in any of the following solutions till the desired color

or tint is obtained:

RED BATH.

Carmine (in grains) 5 parts.

Liquid Ammonia 15 "

Distilled Water 120 "

BLUE BATH.

Prussian Blue 50 parts.

Oxalic Acid 50 "

Distilled Water 120 "

YELLOW BATH.

Gamboge 50 parts.

Saffron 50 "

Distilled Water 150 "

The yellow bath must be boiled for five minutes, and filtered.

VIOLET BATH.

Permanganate of Potash 10 parts

Distilled Water 100 "

GREEN BATH.

Prussian Blue 50 parts.

Oxalic Acid 50 "

Picric Acid 15 "

Distilled Water 150 "

Dissolve by heat.

Aniline colors may also be used, and are both cheap and easily prepared.

Dissolve one ounce of any aniline color in ten ounces of distilled

water, and immerse the transparency in the solution till the desired

tint is obtained. Wash in several changes of water till the whites are

clear. Dry in a place free from dust.

SIR KNIGHT R. H. WYLD says that in developing some pictures taken

with a pocket Kodak the pictures came out positive instead of

negative. The picture was overdeveloped. Probably the developer

worked rather slow, and the picture may also have been

under-exposed. The rest of the material will probably be all right

with proper time exposure. Cold sometimes retards the action of the

developer. The temperature of the developer should never be below

65° Fahr. The process for making plain salted paper was described

in Nos. 796 and 803, and was also given in the circular issued last

fall announcing the photographic competition.

J. W. B. encloses two prints, and asks what is the matter with

them. The prints were made too dark, and in order to tone them out

they were overtoned. The negatives are evidently thin, which also

accounts for the gray tone of the print. The blue print formula may

be found in Nos. 797, 823, and 828.

SIR KNIGHT RUSSEL SENIOR asks if different colored inks can be used

to color transparencies, if aristotype prints put in a glycerine

solution to keep them flat injures the gloss when they are ready to

be burnished, and for a simple way to enlarge negatives. The

colored inks are made from aniline colors, and it is better to

prepare the color according to directions given in this paper for

using aniline colors. Glycerine does not affect the polish of the

print. Directions for enlarging may be found in No. 801, March 5,

1895. If you have not a file of the ROUND TABLE, enclose five cents

to Harper and Brothers, and the number will be sent to you. As the

directions occupy all the space devoted to the Camera Club, they

cannot be repeated in "Answers to Queries"; but another paper on

enlarging will be printed in a few weeks for the benefit of our new

members.

SIR KNIGHT LEONARD S. WHITTIER asks if the editor has heard of the

"Quad Camera," and if it is a good camera for five dollars, and also

asks the addresses of firms that manufacture cameras at this price

or less. The "Quad" camera is said to do very good work for so

small a camera. The Eastman Kodak Co., Rochester, N.Y., Kombi

Camera Co., Chicago, Ill., Manhattan Optical Co., Cresskill, N.J.,

are among the firms that manufacture low-priced cameras. A card

sent to Scovill, Adams Co., or E. & H. T. Anthony and Co., New

York, will bring a catalogue of cameras and photographic outfits.

SIR KNIGHT HERSCHEL F. DAVIS wishes a good formula for a

one-solution metol developer, and asks if the exposure should be

shortened when using metol for a developer. A single solution of

metol is made as follows:

Metol 30 grs.

Sodium Sulphite (crystals) 180 "

Potassium Carbonate 90 "

Water 4 oz.

In mixing this developer the potassium carbonate can be left out

till the detail is out, then add the potassium, and leave the plate

in the developer till the required density is gained. One can make

the exposure much shorter with the metol, and this developer is

specially good for under-exposed plates.

[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.

So you, my little Irene, are appointed a delegate to a great convention,

and mamma has consented to let you go with the other young people to a

city half-way across the continent--you who at seventeen have never made

a journey except under your mother's care. It is your first flight from

the nest, and I do not wonder that you and she both anticipate it with a

good deal of thought and some perplexity. To you, of course, the outlook

is all roseate; you are sure you will have an enchanting time, and you

have no forebodings; but mamma, being older and having experience, feels

less at her ease. And yet it is a simple matter to travel under auspices

so agreeable as those which belong to Christian Endeavorers when they go

to an annual assemblage of their great society.

Resolve beforehand to go equipped lightly as to luggage. A pretty

travelling-dress, with an extra waist for any emergency or occasion of

ceremony, is all you will require in the way of a gown, and a change of

under-clothing will go with the waist in your hand-bag. An oil-silk bag

for your sponge, your needful toilet articles, and such trifles as pins,

needle and thread, shoe buttons, and light overshoes can easily be

compressed into a very small space. An extra pair of gloves should be

taken, and a small bottle of camphor or other remedy for sudden

indisposition will not be amiss.

On the journey, whether by boat or by train, keep strictly with your own

party. There will probably be a number of your friends, very likely your

pastor and his wife, in the company, and you must be careful to stay

where they stay, and go where they go. You are not an independent

traveller. You belong to a party, and must conform to its regulations.

Especially when your objective point is a strange city, where you will

be thrown among hundreds of people unknown to you, be sure that you do

not separate in any way from your own particular group.

Arrived at your destination, you will probably find that quarters have

been assigned to you in hospitable homes. Here, as you are received with

friendly greetings, do your utmost to prove that you appreciate the

kindness shown. Give as little trouble as possible to your entertainers.

Every home has its fixed hours for meals, and visitors should be ready

at the moment, so that the hostess shall not be embarrassed in her

proceedings by any lack of punctuality in theirs. If prayers in the

family are before breakfast, be sure that you rise early enough to

attend them, and in every point make your visit a pleasure to those who

kindly invite you to be a guest beneath their roof.

In visiting a strange place avail yourself of each opportunity for

seeing interesting points, for going to see objects of natural interest,

museums, libraries, etc., always, however, visiting these with your own

party, or with friends who are responsible for your safety.

You will need very little money on such a journey as I am thinking of,

your tickets being procured beforehand, and your only requirement being

for small change. The funds of the party should be in the hands of one

person, selected before starting, who will act as treasurer on the trip,

keeping a strict account of her disbursements, so that she may render it

at the journey's end.

MARJORIE DAW.--Miss Deland's _Oakleigh_ is, in my opinion, as

entertaining a book as _Little Women_. _The Story of a Short Life_

and _Jackanapes_ were written by Mrs. Ewing, who died some years

ago. _Grandma's Attic Treasures_ is by Mary D. Brine.

MARION D.--Send your invitations for the garden party in the shape

of informal notes, written in the ordinary way. "Dear Alice,--Come

to my party next Saturday afternoon at 4 o'clock. Tea in the

garden," or, "My dear Mary,--Will you give me the pleasure of your

presence at a lawn-party next Saturday at four o'clock, to meet

Miss Elsie Morrow and Miss Nancy Page, of Baltimore." Let your

little note be brief but cordial. It is quite proper to write such

an invitation on one's visiting-card.

CARRIE H. D.--I do not think that a girl should too confidently

depend on her friend's opinion that she can write short stories.

The only way to really test the matter is to send the stories,

written plainly, or type-written, and, of course, on one side of

the paper only, with return postage enclosed, to the editor of a

paper. A girl should read the best stories she can find, and the

best essays and historical sketches too, and be in no haste to

publish. I cannot advise a young girl to go upon the stage. She

should certainly not think of this, unless her parents and teachers

not only fully approve, but also urge her to do so. In my

experience girls of all periods are much alike. I think the girls

of to-day are not at all silly; in some particulars, as in

opportunities for out-door sports, and in excellent health, they

surpass the girls of a few years ago. Girls are fascinating

creatures, and I dearly love them.

[Illustration: Signature]

ADVERTISEMENTS.

400,000 Pounds

of Nickel Steel

[Illustration]

That is the amount of this wonderful metal, drawn into tubing in our own

mills, that has gone into Columbia Bicycles in the past year and a half.

Its use is what makes Columbias so strong and light. No such material in

other machines. Reserved exclusively for

[Illustration: Columbia Bicycles]

Standard of the World

$100 to all alike.

Columbias in construction and quality are in a class by themselves.

Pope Manufacturing Co.

HARTFORD, CONN.

WALTER BAKER & CO., LIMITED.

Established Dorchester, Mass., 1780.

Breakfast Cocoa

[Illustration]

Always ask for Walter Baker & Co.'s

Breakfast Cocoa

Made at

DORCHESTER, MASS.

It bears their Trade Mark

"La Belle Chocolatiere" on every can.

Beware of Imitations.

There's no doubt about the advisability of riding a wheel--the only

question now is what wheel to ride.

Monarch

King of Bicycles,

represents cycle manufacture in its highest development. A wheel with

which no fault can be found.

4 models, $80 and $100, fully guaranteed. For children and adults who

want a lower price wheel the =Defiance= is made in 8 models, $40 to $75.

Send for Monarch book.

[Illustration]

MONARCH

CYCLE MFG. CO.,

Lake, Halsted and Fulton Sts., CHICAGO.

83 Reade St., NEW YORK.

Postage Stamps, &c.

$117.50 WORTH OF STAMPS FREE

to agents selling stamps from my 50% approval sheets. Send at once for

circular and price-list giving full information.

C. W. Grevning, Morristown, N. J.

1000

Mixed Foreign Stamps, San Marino, etc., 25; 101 all dif., China, etc.,

10c.; 10 U.S. Revenues, 10c.; 20 U.S. Revenues, 25c. Ag'ts w'td at 50%

com. _Monthly Bulletin_ free. Shaw Stamp & Coin Co., Jackson, Mich.

101 varieties, Venezuela, etc., 10c.; 118 var., many rare and unused,

Asia, Africa, and Australia, also Hawaii, Newfoundland, Cuba, Venezuela,

etc., only 18c. Scott's 1896 illustrated cat. only 25c. All post-free.

W. P. Todd, Morristown, N. J.

STAMPS! 100 all dif. Barbados, etc. Only 10c. Ag'ts w't'd at 50% com.

List free. L. DOVER & CO., 1469 Hodiamont, St. Louis, Mo.

[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

THE DUKE OF ALVA'S HUMILIATION.

THIRD-PRIZE STORY.

BY GEORGE C. HIRST.

The dining-hall of Rudolstadt Castle was the object of much interest one

morning in the old war-wearied days of 1547. Behind its curtained

doorways maids with straining ears and eyes whispered in consultation.

In the kitchen and servants' quarters the guests of the Countess were

critically discussed, from their features and dress to their overbearing

haughtiness. Old Hans, the butler, was volleyed with questions upon each

appearance from the dining-hall, his dignity more impenetrable than the

choicest armor in the Netherlands. The Rudolstadt retainers, sitting in

the court outside with Dutch sullenness, hated the Spanish masters as

they hated sin, under the blankness of their features. One of them paced

to and fro with blazing eyes and set jaws, savagely shaking his sword

and repeatedly testing its shining point, in refreshing contrast to the

calmness of his comrades.

In the hall the Countess of Swarzburg acted hostess to the generals of a

victorious army, one of whom had terrorised Europe. Her calm dignity was

unmoved by their great condescension and haughty arrogance, and eloquent

of the fact that they were her quests and not her conquerors. She was a

woman with the iron nerve of a warrior and the courage of the bravest

Spaniard in her prostrate land, and she had need to be, with the Duke of

Alva and Henry of Brunswick opposite her. They were taking her kindness

very much as their due, and regarding the castle as a remarkably good

inn. Cold constraint attended the breakfast.

Some months before, the Countess of Swarzburg, knowing that a Spanish

army on its way to the Netherlands would pass through her territory, had

secured a written promise from the Emperor Philip II. that her subjects

should be unmolested by his soldiers. She agreed in return to sell him

provisions. When the army arrived she promptly sent the supplies, and

invited the Spanish generals to breakfast with her.

During the breakfast she skilfully reminded them of the Emperor's

promise, but they apparently did not understand her. As the conversation

progressed it became more apparent that they regarded her as a conquered

ruler and her services as tribute. She grew more and more angry at their

demeanor, and her breeding alone kept her outwardly courteous. She

turned the conversation at last to trivial matters, and the breakfast

went on smoothly, until a servant came and spoke to her. Then she calmly

arose.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," she said. "I must leave you a few moments. Your

wants shall have attention by my servants here," and without awaiting

their reply she left the room.

In the court her manner changed. She closely questioned her servants,

and then sent for her retainers and deliberately placed a number of them

at each of the doors leading to the hall. "On no account," she

instructed them, "permit either of the gentlemen within to leave the

room." Then she went below.

A pitiful story awaited her. A number of her people were clustered in a

group with looks of despair and misery. The Spanish soldiers had driven

off their cattle, and they had seen the results of years of labor depart

in a few brief moments. Cattle then represented far more than now, when

life was a desperate struggle with the cold and hunger. Hard was the

life of the peasant, and the poor Thuringians, who loved their motherly

Countess, gathered around her as sheep around a shepherd in a winter

storm. She felt their need of her and determined to help them, but

despite her great indignation did not lose her presence of mind.

Ordering them all well provided with food, she told them to return to

their homes, and there await the stolen cattle which she would see were

returned. Then she noiselessly gathered her armed retainers about the

several doorways leading to the breakfast-hall. The soldier who had

restlessly paced the court and cursed the Spaniards was in advance, and

his eyes were hungry and his breath came hard. The Countess entered the

room, and calmly seated herself at the table, facing the Duke.

"Gentlemen," she said, "a few moments ago I spoke of the promise of your

Emperor, that my subjects should be unmolested by his soldiers. I have

just learned that it has been broken. Your men have taken my people's

cattle, which are necessary to them. Of course, you knew nothing of

this, and my messenger here will carry your orders to return them." She

was icily polite, and the command in her last words was more than a

Spaniard could take.

"Your messenger is kind," the Duke observed.

"My dear Countess," said Henry of Brunswick, "do not allow the loss of a

few cattle, peasants' cattle, to disturb you. How little a woman knows

of war, to be sure! Why, soldiers are prone to roughness even in their

own land, and a few such escapades cannot be prevented. The Duke and

myself sincerely regret the occurrence, and will do our best to stop

them in the future."

She looked from one to the other. "Am I to understand, then, that the

Emperor's orders have no weight with you?" she asked, angrily.

"As you like," said Alva.

"And that you will not restore to my people their own?"

"It is impossible," explained Brunswick.

"Then, as God lives, princes' blood shall pay for oxen's!"

And from the doors the curtains parted, and the flashing of swords cut

the light. The tramp of heavy feet resounded in the castle, and without

a word a score of tall brawny warriors encircled the table and enclosed

the generals. Behind the chair of Alva, unnoticed, stood the restless

soldier, his face, his arms, his body, afire with hate. They say that

gaunt, patient, hungry revenge is of the South, that the Northman never

feels it, but when a man has lost wife, children, home, peace, liberty,

and he sees the instrument of all before him--Heaven shall lightly judge

his deed in such a moment!

"Say the word! say the word!" he muttered again and again, pressing hard

on his sword.

[Illustration: THE PALE, DETERMINED FACE OF THE COUNTESS SHOWED FULL OF

PURPOSE.

Drawn by Edmund F. Webber, Winner of Second Prize in Drawing

Competition.]

The Duke and Brunswick looked at each other in dismay. Beyond a doubt

they were caught. Cut off from communication with their soldiers, they

were powerless before the solid wall of men around them. Across the

table the pale, determined face of the Countess showed full of purpose.

For once a Spaniard's word was unsupported by an army, and Alva's nerve

left him. There was a momentary, awkward pause, and then Brunswick came

to the rescue.

He burst into a long laugh. "Upon my soul," he roared, "a good joke, an

excellent piece of humor! You have surprised me, Countess. I was not

aware you Northern people possessed our Spanish wit. What fine

retainers! Duke, the messenger of the Countess is here, with an

excellent guard to attend him. Do not keep him waiting for your

messages."

The Duke hesitated a moment, and then joined Brunswick in what was the

best way out of the matter. The Countess ordered her retainers from the

room, but the intermittent clanks of armor from the court without were

significant.

The Countess detained the generals until she received news that the

cattle had been returned and that the Spaniards were marching from her

dominions. She knew that they did not dare return and punish her, for

they were urgently needed in the Netherlands. Then she politely sent her

guests away, to curse her during all the long ride to their soldiers.

But curses could not restore the broken self-satisfaction of Alva, nor

hide the fact he had been conquered by a woman.

[Illustration: STAMPS]

This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin

collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any Question

on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address

Editor Stamp Department.

In compound perforated stamps the rule is to quote the perforations in

the following order: top, bottom, left side, right side.

The _Straits Budget_, published in Singapore, states that the new Malay

Federation scheme contemplates a further change in the colors of the

postage-stamps, and it is not improbable that the new tiger's head will

disappear for good.

The "Boris" stamps of Bulgaria are purely speculative. The Bulgarian

Parliament wished to present the young Prince Boris, on the occasion of

his baptism into the orthodox Greek Church, with a sum of money equal to

$100,000, and, not having the money in the Treasury, devised the scheme

of making a set of stamps for sale to collectors. It is very gratifying

to hear that the scheme has not proved a success.

A report comes from Japan that the government will issue two new stamps,

one bearing the portrait of Marshal Arisugawa, the other that of Prince

Kitashirawika. Both Generals distinguished themselves in the late war

with China.

The French philatelic papers have lately given much attention to the

"Balloon" letters sent out of Paris during the winter of 1870-71, when

the German army was besieging the city. No special stamps were used, but

a special post-mark was stamped on each envelope. Hence they are not

stamps nor stamped envelopes; but they have a special interest of their

own, and many philatelists admit them in their albums. Statistics show

that 64 balloons were sent out, conveying 64 aeronauts, 91 passengers,

363 pigeons, 5 dogs, and about three million letters. Five of the

balloons were captured, by the Germans, and two were driven to the ocean

and lost.

In view of the disagreeable taste of the gum on the U.S. stamps, some

wags have proposed to flavor the gum with liquorice, sassafras, etc. The

only objections made so far is that the stamps, if made too agreeable,

would be chewed up by the users.

The difficulty in seeing the water-marks on the current U.S. stamps has

led to the suggestion that possibly the water-marks might be shown by

Röntgen X rays. It is high time our government should either revert to

the plain paper, or make paper showing the water-mark on each stamp.

The work of the S.S.S.S. has done something to reduce the number of such

issues, but it seems to have resulted in some degree also in reducing

the number of new collectors. A reaction is now taking place, and some

philatelists advocate the abandonment of the committee, leaving each

person free to collect or reject such stamps as he may prefer.

Old Greek gold coins are as eagerly sought for as ever, and very few new

copies are found in excavations, tombs, etc. Mr. H. Montague for many

years collected all the fine and rare copies he could purchase. His

collection has just been sold, and the 816 coins brought $44,884. Among

the highest prices were an Athenian gold stater, B.C. 88, with the head

of Athene Parthenos wearing the triple-crested helmet, $830, only three

of these staters being known; a tetradrachm of Nabis of Lacedæmon, $580;

an old stater of the Arcadian League, with the head of Zeus Lykæos in

high relief, $695; one of Tarentum, with the head of Demeter, $500: a

silver stater of Croton, with a nude figure of Herakles on the reverse,

$375; an oktadrachm of Alexander the Great, $450; a stater of Pheneus,

with a naked running Hermes on the reverse, $575, and one of Alexander

II., Zebena of Syria, $825. Very few specimens of these old Greek coins

have been brought to America.

D. W. W.--Practically all the unperforated U. S. Revenues are on

"old paper," but the paper varied in thickness and in color. The

"silk" paper was used in some of the perforated stamps. They are

quite scarce. The second and third issues of the U.S. Revenues and

the Proprietary stamps were printed on "pink" paper, "violet"

paper, and "green" paper. Unless a collector has lots of money to

spend, I would advise him not to bother about papers, but take

every stamp according to design only. Part perforated stamps are

those which have perforations on two sides only. These are to be

collected in unsevered pairs only.

L. H. B.--The 1837 dime is quoted by dealers at 35c. No dealer's

address can be given in this column.

E. FRIEND, Columbus.--See answer to L. H. B.

F. HAMM, 4127 Mantua Ave., Philadelphia, RICHARD STARKE, East

Islip, New York, EDISON B. COUNCIL, Council, N.C., wish to exchange

stamps.

B. W. LEAVITT.--You can buy a beautiful 1894 dollar from dealers

for $1.50.

[Illustration: No. 1 and 2.]

[Illustration: No. 3.]

H. P. D.--Lithographed stamps are those printed from stones;

engraved, those printed from steel-plates; wood-cuts, those printed

from engraved wood blocks; typographed, those printed from relief

plates. Your Mexican is a revenue stamp. The three triangles of

1894 U.S. 2c. stamps are all slightly different. In No. 1 the

horizontal lines run across the ornaments. No. 2 is like No. 1

except that the lines running across the ornament are thinner than

No. 1. In No. 3 the lines do not cross the frame.

W. T. MCCLINTOCK.--See answer to H. P. D.

PHILATUS.

[Illustration: Ivory Soap]

Babies whose mothers use common soaps, fret

Chafed and uneasy: but this little pet,

Thanks to pure Ivory, contentedly lies,

Soothed into slumber with soft lullabies.

Copyrighted, 1896, by The Procter & Gamble Co., Cin'ti.

Too simple to get out of order; too strong to break; hooks and unhooks

_easily_--when you please--not before.

The DeLONG

Hook and Eye

[Illustration]

See that

hump?

RICHARDSON & DELONG BROS,

Philadelphia,

makers of the

CUPID Hairpin.

It cannot slip out of the hair.

HOOPING

COUGH

CROUP

_Can be cured_

by using

ROCHE'S HERBAL

EMBROCATION

The celebrated and effectual English cure, without internal medicine. W.

EDWARD & SON, Props., London, Eng. Wholesale, E. FOUGERA & CO., New York

Hold their place in the front rank of the publications to which they

belong.--_Boston Journal_, Feb. 19, 1896.

HARPER'S

PERIODICALS

MAGAZINE, $4.00 A YEAR

WEEKLY, $4.00 A YEAR

BAZAR, $4.00 A YEAR

ROUND TABLE, $2.00 A YEAR

[Illustration: Thompson's Eye Water]

TWO NEW BOOKS

FOR BOYS

FOR KING OR COUNTRY.

A Story of the Revolution. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated. Post 8vo,

Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.

This is a story for young readers, and recounts the adventures of twin

brothers who are brought up, just prior to the Revolution, in an

American Tory family. One of the brothers becomes imbued with the spirit

of American patriotism, and is one of the first to enlist in the service

of his country; while the other, having been taken to England, obtains a

lieutenant's commission in the English army, and sails with his regiment

to fight under the standard of King George. The story is a strong piece

of character drawing, and the interest centres in the struggles of the

two brothers--one in his loyalty to his country and the other in his

loyalty to his king.

TOMMY TODDLES.

By ALBERT LEE. Illustrated by PETER S. NEWELL. Square 16mo, Cloth,

Ornamental, $1.25.

A more entertaining collection of nonsense has rarely been

penned.--_Boston Traveller._

There is an endless amount of fun in "Tommy Toddles."--_N. Y. Times._

Just the book for children, and grown people will find plenty of fun in

it.--_N. Y. Sun._

It is abounding in side shaking absurdities, and told so well and so

seriously that older readers will enjoy it as much as the young

folks.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

* * * * *

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York.

[Illustration: OLD OFFENDERS.]

* * * * *

It was at a country election that the following took place.

Every man for miles around was in attendance, from the prosperous farmer

to the lowest farm-hand, and here and there in small groups they held

lively discussions about the respective candidates. Finally the chairman

rapped for order, and the speech-making began. The wily orator explained

loudly and long about the poor condition of the country's welfare, and

wound up by asking all those who wished for a betterment of things to

stand up. Every man arose except an old gray-whiskered farmer, who had

fallen asleep over the long-winded oration.

"Now," said the orator, after his listeners had seated themselves, "if

there is a man here who does not wish for a betterment of things, let

him stand up that we may look upon him with scorn."

At this moment the old farmer awoke with a start, and catching the words

"stand up," got upon his feet and stared slowly around as a number of

hisses were thrown at him. This roused his ire, and he said,

"Waal, Mister Speaker, I don't know whether we be votin' fer or agin the

sentiments of my brethern here; but you and me, I reckon, are in the

minority."

* * * * *

ART INFLUENCE.

This pretty picture on the wall,

With billows rolling free,

Is full of white clouds in the sky

And white sails on the sea.

And so I'll sit upon the rug

With pail and spade in hand,

And dream that on the silver shore

I'm digging in the sand.

R. K. M.

* * * * *

During a speech at a political dinner in a small Western city, not long

ago, a Jingo orator, to the great amusement of his hearers, remarked

that "The British lion, whether he is roaming the deserts of India or

climbing the forests of Canada, will not draw in his horns nor retire

into his shell."

* * * * *

A RAINY DAY MEANS NO BALL.

CAMERON. "Papa, I'm saving up for a fine day."

PAPA. "Why are you doing that?"

CAMERON. "So that I can go to a ball match when I have saved up enough."

* * * * *

THEIR ONLY TROUBLE.

"There's only one trouble about blowing bubbles, mamma," said little

Conrad, the other day, "and that is that they always blow out."

* * * * *

An Irish laborer boarded a street-car, and handed to the conductor a

rather dilapidated-looking coin in payment of his fare. The conductor

looked at it critically, and handed it back.

"That's tin," he said.

"Shure, I thought it was foive," answered the Irishman, complacently, as

he put the piece back in his pocket and produced a nickel.

* * * * *

The magazine containing Mrs. Reynolds's first story lay on the

sitting-room table.

Her son, who was at an age to be seriously afflicted with the big head,

took it up, and glanced over it rather contemptuously.

"Mamma," he said, "why don't you write for a first-class magazine? I see

that this thing is entered through the mails as second-class matter."

* * * * *

A QUESTION IN NATURAL HISTORY.

"The cat is a little tiger,

I know very well," said Willie.

"But how is it that the cat-tail

Is never a tiger-lily?"

* * * * *

NOT GENUINE.

TOMMY. "This new spaniel won't go near the water!"

PAPA. "I wonder what's the matter with him?"

TOMMY. "I guess he isn't waterproof."

* * * * *

"Talking about treacle," said the old salt, as he hoisted himself off

the molasses barrel to make way for the grocer to supply a customer's

wants, "thet reminds me of a little scrimmage we had with a pirate

slaver in '42.

"We had the coast-line of Africy a blue streak off to the starboard, and

we were er spankin' along with every blessed stitch of canvas drawin'

when we sighted one er them pirate slavers er bearin' down on us. Capen

took a squint through the glass and whistled. 'We'll give him er run fer

it,' said he.

"Waal, that chap kep' after us all day, and we tried to slip his lights

during the night, but 'twarn't no use. He made up his mind to foller,

and he did, day after day. At last we got well down to the cape when er

blow came up, and, great guns! it wuz er blow fer certain. It caught us,

and drove us plumb into the antarctic circle, with that pirate right

after us. That made the Captain mad, and as we had er cargo of molasses

on board, he gave the order to uncover the rear hatch and hoist the

barrels on deck.

"Blow me if he didn't broach those barrels thet night, and empty them

over the starn. The nest day there wuz that pirate stuck fast in the

centre of the molasses, where he had sailed. It had froze during the

night, and he was anchored in it just the same as if he wuz nipped in an

ice-floe. Then we squared around and headed for the cape. As we passed

him the Captain shouts out:

"'Ahoy, there! Cold weather fer merlasses, ain't it?' and they shook

their fists and yelled, but we left them, and I guess they're there

yet."

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, May 12, 1896, by Various