CHAPTER II.

[Illustration: “Y]ES, dear.”

Mother Brimmer smiled and nodded, and Rosy ran off for a basket.

“What are you going to do?” cried Cornelius, seeing her turn over the

turkey drumsticks in the platter, when the basket, lined neatly with

brown paper, was all ready and waiting on a chair. So Mother Brimmer

began to explain.

“Oh! now, I say that’s too bad,” cried Cornelius, “to give away a lot

of things to those fellows who pitched into us in our shop, and egged

me most to death, besides making me sprain my ankle. Don’t let her do

it, ma,” he begged.

“But Mr. Plumtree made them sorry about fighting in the shop,” said

Rosy, continuing her selection of pieces, “and they had to work awfully

hard at the farmer’s where he bound them out; and now they’re all so

poor, I don’t suppose they’ve had the least bit of a Thanksgiving

dinner.”

“They don’t deserve any,” said Cornelius stoutly. Even Jack looked as

if he thought Company’s sentiment wasted.

“I told her she might,” said Mrs. Brimmer quietly, the guests looking

on with no words to offer.

“Look at her,—she’s putting in an awful lot,” shouted Cornelius,

hanging over the turkey platter. “Rosy, don’t give ’em _that_.”

“That” was half of an apple tart, rich and red, and juicy.

“Probably the first they’ve ever tasted,” said the minister softly.

Jack rubbed the toe of his boot back and forth over the polished wooden

floor, Miss Clorinda gave a mild sniff of disapproval of the way things

were going on, but by pinching herself, she managed to keep still;

Corny alone, keeping up the other side of the argument.

“It’s a perfect shame, when it’s the first time we’ve ever had a

Thanksgiving,” he cried, with a red face and indignant eyes, “to pack

off all those nice things to a lot of dirty, mean old Corner boys.”

Mother Brimmer still kept silent.

“Jack thinks so.” Corny whirled around and pointed to the senior

partner triumphantly. “He knows; and you ought to do as he says, Rosy.”

Company’s little right hand dropped to the side of the basket, while

her round face took on a pained expression as she looked at Jack.

The big boy flushed up to his dark hair, and he dropped his eyes to the

floor to follow the working of his uneasy boot. He longed to say “I

think it’s ridiculous, when we are all working so hard, to give away

such things to those idle, good-for-nothing Corner boys,” but a verse

from the Bible came ringing through his ears. For a moment, he thought

the parson must be repeating it, and he glanced up quickly. No; there

he sat in the high-backed chair looking at him silently. Then Jack

remembered it was in church that very morning that he had heard the

words “Do good to them that hate you.”

Here was the direct command from the Master. Jack in the past year of

work and responsibility, had drawn very near to his Heavenly Father; at

the last, glad to enroll himself as a member of the Church of Christ.

And, yet, on this blessed day of thankfulness for the wealth of mercies

that had been showered upon him, he was avariciously shutting his heart

to the good impulse that would help some of God’s poor, needy ones,

up into the range of human sympathy and love. They might be wicked;

all the more reason that he should do what he could to bring them to

love the good. Mean, contemptible fellow that he was to even look his

disapproval to what Rosy was doing!

Jack threw back his head, and Cornelius gave a long breath of delight.

“Go on, Rose,” said the big boy of the family, “and I’ll help you.”

Thereupon Jack sprang forward, and seized an orange and laid it in the

basket, and followed with two or three handfuls of butternuts.

“Ow—ow!” cried Corny in despair.

“Come on, Corny,” cried Jack, his color deepening into a bloom to match

that in Wild Rose’s cheeks, and his dark eyes dancing with delight, “if

you want any hand in this basket; see, it’s almost full.”

And the next thing that Corny knew, he was tucking in the drumsticks

of the chickens, that he had fondly hoped to pick clean on the morrow;

and Jack had saved himself from being the one to pull down the sweet

impulses of his younger brother and his little sister, into the mire

where all was hateful and of evil growth.

“I suppose,” said the parson, when all the packing was done, even to

the tying of the string across the cover, “that you don’t want my

company on your walk over to the Corners—eh, Jack?”

“Don’t we, though,” cried the boy, never the least bit afraid of the

minister; now, warmed up to self-forgetfulness, in a mood light-hearted

enough for anything.

“Yes, sir, we do!” echoed Corny, whipping out his knife to cut off the

string-end. “That’ll be just gay, if you’ll come.”

“Suppose we all accompany the basket party,” proposed Miss Peaseley

slowly, and taking her feet away from the cheerful blaze of the

snapping hickory; “that is, those who care to,” she added, with a

thought in time for the widow and her daughter, and lame Joey Clark.

Joey looked wistfully across at his sister; but she shook her head, and

he sat back obediently in the depths of his chair.

“Want to go, Joey?” asked Mr. Higginson.

“Yes, sir,” Joey’s thin cheek glowed at once, and his eyes sparkled.

“Now, I feel just like a ride on this cold afternoon,” declared

Parson Higginson, jumping up, and swinging his arms. “I’m going over

cross lots to ask Farmer Hooker to lend me his green wagon and Betty

the mare. Want to go, Jack and Corny, and help harness?” Both boys

signified without any hesitancy, that they did.

“Joey, you have the first invitation,” said the parson, nodding over at

the lame boy; “get all bundled up in fine style,—and all you others,”

waving his ministerial hands merrily toward the group; “follow suit,

and we’ll pick you up in about ten minutes—oh! here’s my coat; thank

you, Jack, and Rosy, for my hat. Come on, boys!”

And so, what was supposed to be rather a hard and unwelcome duty of

trudging down to the Corners with a heavy basket containing some of

the Thanksgiving goodies, turned out to be, under the minister’s

management, the most royal frolic of the season, and one well suited to

wind up a Thanksgiving party with.

And then came Christmas.

There was no party at the old Brimmer place, of course. Mother Brimmer

would have held up her hands in amazement at such an idea. One festive

occasion was quite enough to indulge in for a year, and the memory

of it would follow each day of the twelvemonth, with inspiration to

heartier work than ever.

“It’s Thanksgiving all the year,” said Corny one day, well along in

December. “Didn’t we have a good time? I haven’t got the taste of those

pies out of my mouth yet,” and he smacked his lips.

“Those were the most economical pies I ever made,” said Mrs. Brimmer,

laughing, “they last so long.”

“I’m going to pretend,” said Corny, nailing away vigorously on his

mother’s washboard, which a rainy day had allowed him to mend, “that

we’re going to have some more on Christmas.”

“Better not,” said Mother Brimmer wisely, “for you’re not going to, and

when the time comes you’ll be disappointed.”

“No, I sha’n’t, Mamsie,” said Cornelius decidedly, “’cause I know you

aren’t going to make any. But I remember just how they tasted, and when

I’m pretending we can have ’em all over again, it’s ’most as good as

eating any.”

“It’s a very cheap way of getting a nice dish,” said Mrs. Brimmer,

cutting up her meat for the stew, “but I don’t think sham pies are as

good as the plain boiled dinner we’re going to have Christmas.”

Cornelius pounded away a few moments in silence; then he said, “I

suppose we ought to do something for Christmas; that don’t take money,

I mean,” with an anxious glance at his mother.

“Well, now, children,” said Mrs. Brimmer, neatly dividing an obdurate

joint, “there, that’s done. I’ve been thinking about Christmas, and a

plan has come to me.”

“Don’t tell till Jack comes,” cried Rosalie, over in the corner busy

with her ironing holders. “O, Mamsie, do wait!” she begged in alarm.

“Jack knows about it,” said Mrs. Brimmer; “he and I talked it all

over the night you two went to singing-school. And he wanted me to

tell you both as soon as I could get a good chance. Now’s the time, I

think, seeing Roly Poly is having her nap, and we three are all quiet

together.”

“O, Mamsie! what is it?” cried Rosy breathlessly; and, dropping her

sewing, she ran up to her mother’s side, Cornelius also deserting his

washboard.

“Go right straight back,” said Mother Brimmer, clapping the potatoes

into the kettle, “and pick up your work—dear me! can’t you hear just as

well when your fingers are busy, pray tell?”

Thus reproved, they hurried back again. “Now tell, do, Mamsie,” they

begged, once more in their places.

“Well,” said Mrs. Brimmer slowly, “it’s just this; Roly Poly must hang

up her stocking the same as usual, of course.”

“But do let it be a better one this year,” cried Corny, “old turnip

dolls, and such make-believe stuff as it was last Christmas!” he added

contemptuously.

“Roly Poly had a beautiful time,” said Rosy, “she’s been talking of it

most every day since. Don’t you remember what fun it was seeing her

pull out the things?”

“And the doll, I’m sure, was a wonderful affair,” said Mother Brimmer,

“and lasted much better than a store one would have done.”

“And when it wrinkled it looked just like an old woman,” said Corny,

with a shout at the remembrance; “and how funny it was to hear Roly

Poly call it her baby.”

“And wasn’t the molasses candy with the butternuts meats good,”

observed Rosalie reflectively, “and the furniture you and Jack made for

the dolly—oh! I think that was so pretty.”

“And the mittens Mamsie knit her; I forgot them,” said Corny. “Yes; it

was pretty good, after all. But we’re richer now, and we ought to give

her a better stocking this Christmas,” he added decidedly, with quite

an air.

“I don’t know about being richer,” said Mother Brimmer cautiously, and

giving a final stir to the several ingredients in the kettle, she put

on the cover, took down her pans and set about moulding her bread; “our

expenses increase every year as you children grow older; and it isn’t

right to plan taking anything that isn’t actually necessary, out of

the nest-egg. Roly Poly will need every bit we can give her toward her

education by and by.”

“We aren’t being educated,” said Corny deliberately.

Mother Brimmer turned away from her bread-board, looked at him keenly,

then sent a swift glance over to her one girl.

“And that’s just what I want to talk about this morning. You’re going

to have a chance at it, if you both agree to the plan.”

It was impossible for the children to work now; and the needle and the

hammer dropped, while Mother Brimmer went on.

“Mr. Thomas will come here every evening for an hour, for a dollar a

week, and teach Jack and both of you; and I’m to have the chance of

listening and asking questions, so you might as well call me a scholar,

too.”

Neither of her auditors said a word, but stared into the strong face,

out of whose mouth was issuing such wonderful words.

“There will have to be hard work on your part to make every minute

tell,” said Mother Brimmer, “as you’ve got to keep your books by you

and study when you get a chance. But the most important of all, is to

keep saying the things you learn, over and over to yourself, so that

you can’t forget them; I wouldn’t give a cent that any child of mine

should get anything into his or her head, that can’t stay by them,” she

added, with a scorn to match that of Cornelius’ own.

“We never’ll forget what we once learn,” cried both Corny and Rosalie

in one breath. “But how are we going to pay for it, Mamsie?”

“Well, now to pay for the lessons, we shall all have to sacrifice

something,” said Mrs. Brimmer, drawing herself up to her full height,

and looking resolutely at them.

“We can give up our play—afternoons,” said Corny slowly, his black eye

steadily on her.

“Never!” exclaimed Mrs. Brimmer, bringing her hand down on the table

with emphasis, “those mustn’t be touched, whatever we do; that’s

decided.”

“What can we give up?” cried Rosy, in astonishment.

“We’re saving everything as close as can be, now,” said Cornelius, with

a decided nod. “Jack turns every penny twice over before he’ll begin to

think of spending it, and then he claps it into the bank. What in the

world can we save more, ma?”

“I said ‘sacrifice,’” replied Mrs. Brimmer, very distinctly. “We shall

have to draw out some of the nest-egg. This will come hard, because all

of us have been working diligently to put the little fund there, and

every cent taken away from it reduces the interest.”

Cornelius began to look grave at once. Rail as he might at Jack’s

regard for every penny, the accumulation of the deposit in the bank

was is dear to the heart of the younger boy, who had no delight so

great as an errand that took him past the large, red building, over

whose door was the magical word—Bank. To stand here a moment and

reflect that nearly one hundred dollars was recorded on the books to

the credit of Brimmer Brothers and Company, repaid for many hours

of toil and self-denial. Now, if they had a teacher, some of that

slowly-accumulated money must be used.

[Illustration: JOEY. (_See Baby’s Corner._)]

It was to be a sacrifice, as the mother had said.

“But,” Mrs. Brimmer’s tone changed to a ringing one of hopefulness

and courage, “the money thus taken out and used, will be the best

investment possible; better than a ten per cent interest for all of us.

Think of it, children; an education for you and for me!” and for one

little moment, the barriers of a pent-up longing, that had possessed

her heart for years, were dropped.

[Illustration: JAMIE. (_See Baby’s Corner._)]

“Mother,” they cried, “let us have Mr. Thomas come just as soon as he

can!”

“He can’t come till Christmas Eve,” said Mrs. Brimmer. “But he’ll begin

then, and be glad to, for he’s too poor to go home for a vacation. So

he told me yesterday, when I stopped into the District school.”

“Is that where you went, Mamsie, in the afternoon, when you put on

your Sunday shawl and bonnet?” asked Rosy, who hadn’t recovered from

the astonishment produced by seeing such preparations made for a visit

about which there was no attending conversation.

“Yes, child; I asked Jack about it, first; and then he wanted, if Mr.

Thomas could do it, to have me tell you and see if you would like

to fall into the plan. If Mr. Thomas couldn’t do it, why, then, you

two wouldn’t have any disappointment to bear. But he can. O, what a

Christmas we will have!”

THE RAILROAD ON MT. PILATUS

IF the Rigi Railroad is worthy of being considered an extraordinary

and wonderful piece of work, the latest undertaking of this kind—the

building of the railroad on Mt. Pilatus—certainly ought to attract the

attention of engineers and of the travelling public. This new road

differs essentially from its older rivals in the construction of its

roadbed, as well as of the rolling stock. The ruggedness and steepness

of the mountain, together with its great height (sixty-eight hundred

and eighty-two feet, against fifty-nine hundred and five, in the case

of Rigi), offered much greater obstacles than the roads previously

built, and required an entirely different system. The restless spirit

of man is always glad to set for itself some new task, and consequently

men were found who, equipped with the necessary capital, were willing

and able to carry out this tremendous undertaking. When a portion of

the road had been completed, all fear in regard to strength and safety

were removed, for it was thoroughly tested every day, the locomotives

going as often as it was necessary to that part of the road on which

they were at work, carrying materials of all kinds, weighing from

twenty thousand to twenty-two thousand pounds. The southeastern side

of the mountain was chosen for the road, which begins at Alpnach-Stad,

between the Hotel Pilatus and the Eagle Hotel (one thousand four

hundred and forty-eight feet above the level of the sea). From there

it climbs in a northerly direction to the Aemsigenalp, then westward

to the Mattalp (fifty-three hundred and fifteen feet above the sea),

and after much winding reaches the plateau of the Hotel Bellevue on

Mount Pilatus (sixty-eight hundred and eleven feet above the sea).

The road is about two and three quarters miles long, and the total

height climbed from the shore of Alpnacht Bay to the Hotel Bellevue

is fifty-three hundred and sixty feet. The grade is from eighteen to

forty-eight per cent., which is scarcely exceeded by any rope road. In

the middle of the line, at Alp Aemsigen, there is a switch. Seventy-two

hundred and sixty-seven feet of the entire road consists of straight

stretches, curves with radii of from two hundred and sixty-two feet

to three hundred and twenty-eight feet, constituting the remainder.

The road includes a viaduct, three short tunnels and one long one. The

width of the track is two feet seven inches. The foundation consists

of a wall covered with plates of granite and loose material, and

on this the superstructure is firmly anchored. The tooth-bar—which

is placed midway between the rails and is somewhat higher than the

latter—consists of soft steel, and is provided with a double row of

vertical teeth, which are milled out of the bar. The cogged wheels

on the cars, which engage the toothed bar, are arranged in pairs at

the right and left of the same. The axles of these cogwheels are not

horizontal with the level of the road, as in the Rigi system, but

perpendicular to the same, this arrangement making it impossible for

the cogwheels to become displaced. The locomotives and cars form a

train with two running axles and four cogwheels engaging the toothed

bar. The boiler and engine are behind or below the cars, which latter

accommodate thirty-two passengers. Brakes can be applied to all of

the cogwheels, and besides this there are two clamps at the upper

running-axle, which clutch the head of the rail, thus preventing

the upsetting of the cars by the wind. The weight of the loaded

cars is about twenty-one thousand pounds, and one trip up or down

can be made in about eighty minutes. The idea of the Pilatus road

originated with Edward Locher, under whose supervision and control the

road has been built. The engine was invented by Mechanical Engineer

Haas.—_Illustrirte Zeitung._

======

RECENT discoveries have settled the vexed question of the former

existence of lions in Australia. Bones from the Wellington Caves, New

South Wales, are regarded by Professor Owen of the British Museum, as

being those of a marsupial or pouch-bearing lion, fully equal in size

to the existing African species. These remains were found in connection

with those of the Tasmanian Tiger and Tasmanian Devil. Quite curiously,

Professor Owen many years ago expressed the conviction that certain

ancient herbivorous animals of Australia must have been kept in check

by a co-existent race of lions.—_Selected._

VALUE OF ARABIC NUMERALS.

FEW people, probably, have any adequate idea of the great difficulties

in which arithmetic would be involved were it not for the happy

invention of the Arabic numerals. Here is a very simple little sum in

addition put Roman fashion.

The reader will find it “a nice amusement,” as the model papa always

tells his daughters, to work it out as it stands without having

recourse to Arabic notation:

MDCXLVIII

MCCXLV

DCCXXXIX

MDCCCLXXXIV

None of these figures reach two thousand, and yet what a hopeless task

to sum them up without an abacus! But that is, indeed, a small matter.

Here are two better tests of the impossibility of arithmetic without

Arabic notation:

Multiply (all in Roman figures) MDCCXLIV by DCLXXXIV, and divide

MCCXLIII by XLV. Nothing could be simpler than these two sums, and yet

it requires considerable intellect and very close attention to work

them out on paper with the Roman symbols.—_Cornhill Magazine._

BABY’S CORNER.

[Illustration: J]OEY and Jamie are two little bits of boys.

They live in a nice house and play under a big tree.

One little boy is just as old as the other little boy.

When they stand up to see how high they are, Joey is no bigger than

Jamie. They are twins.

They look as much alike as peas in a pod. Only Joey has big black eyes

and Jamie has blue ones.

They have good times playing when they are good. Sometimes they are

naughty. Joey is naughty most.

One day last summer they were playing by the little brook where the

flowers grow. The water said “tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,” as it ran over

the stones.

They were happy for a little while. They picked flowers and put their

fat hands in the cool water.

But at last Joey began to pick up stones and throw them. One little

white stone hit Jamie’s blue eye. It hurt him. He cried. Mamma came and

took him on her lap and kissed his eye.

Then it felt better.

Joey sat in mamma’s lap a long time and ate some big red cherries. They

were sweet and good.

[Illustration: SOME BIG RED CHERRIES.]

Mamma was sorry that she had to punish poor naughty Joey. He had to be

tied up in his little chair. He had no cherries. He cried very hard.

Joey will throw no more stones at his little brother.

MRS. C. M. LIVINGSTON.

[Illustration: DISTRIBUTING THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.]

_Volume 15, Number 9._ Copyright, 1887, by D. LOTHROP COMPANY.

_December 31, 1887._

THE PANSY.

[Illustration: IMAGE OF BUDDHA.—(_See Lotus Lilies._)]

A BOY FROM THYATIRA.

[Illustration: T]WELVE years ago a little boy, only thirteen years old,

stood bidding his mother good-by.

He was going a long journey with strangers across the ocean, to stay a

good many years. He didn’t know how long it would be before he should

see his dear father and mother again.

He had very black eyes and hair, and beautiful white teeth, and his

skin was somewhat darker than yours when you’ve been playing bareheaded

in the sun. For the rest, he was a little Armenian boy, born and reared

in Turkey, and speaking the Armenian language. His father was a native

preacher in Thyatira.

And now this boy was to take a long, long journey to America to be

educated, so that he might come back to work for the Jesus whom he

loved so much.

It was very hard to say good-by for so long a time, but at last it was

over, and the boy went down to the great ship that was to carry him

over the ocean, trying to choke back the tears that would rise when

he thought of his home and father and mother and playmates, and the

missionaries whom he loved so much. So he knelt down by his little bed

in the ship, and begged the dear Heavenly Father to go with him. Then

there came a sweet verse to him to cheer him: “Fear thou not, neither

be thou dismayed, for the Lord thy God is with thee, whithersoever thou

goest.”

He was very much bewildered when he landed in this country, at all the

bustle and hurry, and the strange language.

He was put immediately into school, and went to work at the English

language.

“Did you find it hard?” I asked him, not long since.

“Hard! I should think I did,” he answered. “Your language is so queer!

See that horse tied to a tree. It is ‘fast.’ And yet if he is running

at full speed you call him ‘fast.’ That window is locked. You say it

is ‘fast,’ but so is the young man that smokes and drinks, and wears

flashy neckties and carries a cane. It was a great puzzle to me at

first. It has taken me all these twelve years to learn it.”

The boy has worked hard, and is a fine scholar.

Five years ago he went back to his own country and spent a year in

Smyrna among the Greeks, and now if you chance to have the pleasure of

spending an evening in his company, he may take his guitar and sing to

you the wild, sweet melodies of the Greeks, with their soft, musical

syllables, and I’m sure you’ll be delighted with them.

Perhaps, too, he may give you the Turkish call to go to Jerusalem, and

describe the caravan of Armenians as they start on their pilgrimage to

the Holy City, with a young man ahead on a beautifully-adorned camel,

his head thrown back, his hands clasped at the back of his neck, and

singing out the weird call which means something like this:

“Come all ye people! Let us go up to visit Jerusalem! It will please

all the saints! I have sold all my vast estates to fit me out for the

journey. I have given up everything! Be not behind your leader! Come,

let us go up and we shall be saved!”

He will tell you, too, of his little brother, who has just started to

this country to be educated. How often he will jump upon some barrel

or box in the street and imitate the Mohammedan call to prayer, with

such exactness that his mother is obliged to pull him down quickly and

take him into the house lest some angry Mohammedan should seize him and

punish him for his fun.

The young man is now studying medicine and expects to return to his own

country soon, to begin work for his Master.

Shall we not all pray that his work may be blest, and that many may be

brought to Jesus through him?

GRACE LIVINGSTON.

======

THERE is a little fable which says that one digging in the earth found

a lump of fragrant clay, and asked, “Whence thy fragrance?” “One laid

me on a rose,” was the answer. So he who lies on the bosom of Christ

and abides in Him will be struck with His fragrance, His spirit of

love and holiness, and wherever He goes will shed rich spiritual

influence.—_Presbyterian._

NOT LOST ON THE AIR.

A VERY interesting incident occurred in the early ministerial life of

Mr. Spurgeon, and which he verified to the person who made it public.

Thirty years ago or more, he was invited to preach in the vast Crystal

Palace at Sydenham. Would his voice fill the immense area? Resolving

to test it, he went in the morning to the Palace, and thinking for a

passage of Scripture to repeat, this, as he reached the stage, came to

mind: “It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that

Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” Pronouncing the

words, he felt sure that he would be heard, and then repeated the verse

in a softer tone. More than a quarter of a century later Mr. Spurgeon’s

brother, who is also a pastor, was called to the bedside of a man, an

artisan, who was near his end.

“Are you ready?” asked the pastor.

“O, yes!” answered the dying man, with assurance.

“Can you tell me how you obtained the salvation of your soul?”

“It is very simple,” said the artisan, his face radiant with joy. “I am

a plumber by trade. Some years ago I was working under the dome of the

Crystal Palace, and thought myself entirely alone. I was without God

and without hope.

“All at once I heard a voice coming from Heaven which said “It is a

faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came

into the world to save sinners.” By the meaning of these words I was

convinced of sin; Jesus Christ appeared to me as my Saviour. I accepted

Him in my heart as such at the same moment, and I have served Him ever

since.”

God honors his Word. Suppose Mr. Spurgeon had used a secular sentence

to try his voice? What surprises await the faithful when results are

known.—_The Watchword._

======

“NEW MEXICO is peopled largely by a superstitious, ignorant race,

intensely bigoted, and under the almost absolute sway of a degraded

priesthood, who have a deadly hatred of the spelling-book as well as of

Christian instruction.

“For centuries the people have dwelt in isolation, separated from

civilization by vast reaches of barren, waterless, cactus-bearing

plains. During these centuries they have made no advance either

mentally or morally, but have sunk deeper and deeper into the sloughs

of ignorance. The mission schools established among the Mexicans are

centres of light from whence radiate many cheering rays. The people are

awakening to a sense of their degradation, and give evidence of their

desire for improvement. Many are anxious to learn English and to have

their children educated. A little plain furniture, such as chairs,

tables and bedsteads, is finding its way into their houses, and more

attention is paid to dress and cleanliness.”

New Mexico is about as large as all the New England States together,

with New York and New Jersey.

LOTUS LILIES.

[Illustration: T]HE lotus lily is spoken of as “the peer-less flower of

Farther India.” From an article, which is too long to give you entire,

I shall cull some interesting items about this flower for your benefit.

It is a kind of water lily, and is considered a wonderful flower by

the people of the countries in which it is found. In Egypt it was once

considered sacred to their gods, and in India the Hindoo gods are often

represented as seated upon the expanded flower. In China and Japan it

is closely connected with Buddha, and has a large place in the worship

of that god. In China the lotus lily symbolizes womanly beauty, the

small feet of women being called _kin leen_, or golden lilies.

The petals of the lotus lily are rose-pink, growing brighter and

redder toward the tips, where one can almost imagine the life-blood

of the flower is oozing out, and will soon drop upon the white mat

of the table. Opening the rosy lips, the golden heart of the flower

is disclosed surrounded by a silky fringe of the stamens of the same

bright hue, edged with pure white pollen. The leaves of the plant are

dark-green, almost round, and lie or float upon the bosom of the lake.

The stems are like long green serpents, rearing their spiral forms

from the black ooze beneath the water, and holding aloft their banners

of green and blossoms of beauty and fragrance.

But notwithstanding the fact that the plant is held sacred, many of the

Chinese cultivate it for sale. The fragrant blossoms reach a diameter

of ten inches, and find ready purchasers. The seeds are used as an

article of food; sometimes eaten raw, sometimes ground and made into

cakes.

The fleshy stems are used as a vegetable, while the fibres of the

leaf-stalks serve for lamp-wicks.

The ancient Egyptians used to inclose the seeds in balls of clay or

mud and cast them into the Nile, and in due season the plant appeared,

followed by buds, flowers and seeds. Does that make you think of a

Bible verse?

[Illustration: ON THE NILE.]

In Siam the lotus lilies grow in great profusion, and one may sail for

miles along the rivers through flooded fields covered with the lotus

blossoms, which the natives are gathering for market.

Then there are the royal lotus gardens of Bangkok. These are several

miles from the king’s palace. There is a carriage road leading out from

the city, and these gardens are a famous place for picnics. At the

grand funeral ceremonies of the Queen of Siam, one of the companies

which walked in the procession carried tridents, the triple tips of

which were each crowned with the white lotus. Every year thousands

of real and artificial lilies are floated on the rivers and sea as

offerings of the water spirits.

They are launched at night, with little wax tapers burning, and they

are loaded with offerings to the gods.

Many beautiful fancies cluster about the lotus, and many songs have

been written, which you may appreciate the more if you happen upon

them, for knowing something about the beautiful fragrant flower

“trembling on the crystal tide.”

THE YEAR OF OUR LORD.

THE following incident which occurred, as will be seen, many years ago,

has lately been published, and is from the experience of Mr. Duncan, a

well-known missionary to the Indians of British Columbia. He says:—

“I was teaching the Indians to write letters, and, as a matter of

course, began at the name of the place at which the letter was

supposed to be written. About that step there was nothing to call forth

any remark from the Indians. Next came the name of the month. That

elicited some smiles, but no questions. Then was added the day of the

month, which also caused some interest, but no surprise. When, however,

I added 1860 for the year, immediately the Indians inquired what did

those figures mean, and why was the year so named? For a moment I was

stunned at the answer which the question called for. Never before had I

realized the startling meaning of those figures in connection with the

Gospel, and how severely they witnessed against the Christian Church.

[Illustration: BEIRUT.]

“The Indians seemed at once to seize with awe the information I offered

on the subject, and their looks but too plainly indicated both

reproach and astonishment that the message of God should have been

withheld from them so long.

“I felt both ashamed and humiliated for my race, and wondered how so

many generations of Christians since the apostolic age, could have

dared, as they have done, to so willfully and fatally neglect, or, at

best, but trifle with their Lord’s commission.”

“THE EVENING STAR.”

IN the large playground of a Christian school in Beirut is an arbor

where several girls of the school were accustomed to meet just at

sunset for a prayer meeting. They had organized this meeting by

themselves, and one day the teacher asked, “What do you call your

meeting?”

“Oh! we call it the ‘Evening Star,’ because when the sun sets the

evening star comes out, and so, when the sun sets our little meeting is

held, and we have named it the Evening Star.”

“And what do you pray for at the ‘Evening Star’?” asked the teacher.

“Oh! we pray for our teachers; but especially we pray for a new heart.”

GOWAHATIS.

[Illustration: I]N the western part of the State of New York there is

a territory known as the “Cattaraugas Reservation.” This is the home

of the Senecas, one of the tribes of the Iroquois, or Six Nations

of Indians of Western New York. There were six tribes that in the

early history of our country formed a confederacy or union, and were

sometimes called the Huron-Iroquois; one tribe was called by the

Dutch “Sinnekaas,” which at length became “Senecas.” A secretary of

the board of missions connected with one of the leading religious

denominations visited the Reservation a year or so ago, and he tells

us many interesting facts connected with these Indians and concerning

the work of the missionaries among them. Fifty years ago most of these

people were benighted Pagans worshiping false gods, but to-day there

is probably not a dozen persons among the four thousand who have any

veneration for heathen worship. This does not mean that all love and

serve the Lord Jesus Christ. When you say that you live in a Christian

land or in a Christian community, you do not mean that all the people

in the land or in the community are real Christians, but you mean that

all or at least the most of the people believe in Christianity.

Now how did it come about that these ignorant worshipers of false

gods have become a Christian nation? You are not surprised to learn

that it has been brought about through the efforts of a few earnest

and faithful missionaries who have given their lives to the work of

lifting up this people. But it is the story of Gowahatis that I started

to tell you. She was the step-daughter of Red Jacket, a noted Seneca

chief, who received his name from wearing a scarlet coat given him,

during the Revolutionary War, by a British officer. Red Jacket was

bitterly opposed to the Christian religion, to missionaries, schools

and teachers. This step-daughter, Gowahatis, was called “Aunt Ruth” by

the missionaries.

Her Indian name was significant of her position as leader of a certain

dance performed by women alone. It was very honorable, and constituted

her a sort of “chief” woman. Both mother and daughter strongly

sympathized with Red Jacket in his opposition to the introduction of

the religion of the pale faces, until, having been induced to listen

for once to the preaching of the missionaries, they perceived its

superiority to their faith and desired to know more of the wonderful

salvation which the Son of God had wrought out for all men—Indians as

well as white men. They went again, but this coming to the ears of

the old chief, he positively forbade them, threatening that if they

disobeyed he would leave his family at once. The mother was very much

alarmed, and for a time she ceased her visits to the mission house.

But after a time she and her daughter took their blankets out into the

woods one Saturday evening and hid them. The next morning they walked

away from the house slowly, as if going out to the woods, and when they

came to the blankets they threw them hastily over their heads, and by a

circuitous path made their way to the meeting.

There they heard the words, “God so loved the world that He gave His

only begotton Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish,

but have everlasting life.” This brought them to decide, once for all,

to take the Gospel and risk the loss of all things. This was a great

step; Red Jacket would do what he had said: he would leave the family;

this they knew. He was a very distinguished man; as his wife and

daughter they had been much noticed and had received many presents, but

they would renounce all for Christ and everlasting life.

They joined the mission church, were very earnest Christian women,

they remained faithful unto death, and exerted a powerful influence in

bringing others to Christ. A year or two after Red Jacket returned to

his wife, and acknowledged that he had done wrong in leaving, adding

that he did not think that she was any the worse for being a Christian.

Dear Pansies, this thought came to me as I heard the story of these

Indian women: they heard the truth once and were interested, twice and

accepted.

How many times have you heard it? Have you accepted Christ?

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

THE PERSECUTED BANNERMAN.

[In one of the missionary magazines I read this

note: “There is one story in the foreign missionary

department of this number which none of our young

readers should overlook.... It is a first-rate story to

read and talk about in the family.” Turning over the

pages I found, as I had expected, that the editor’s

suggestion was a good one, and then I immediately

became desirous that all you young people of the Pansy

should have a chance at the story, and here it is,

clipped for your benefit.—FAYE HUNTINGTON.]

NG-HIN-KI a young man of more than usual ability and energy joined the

Third Presbyterian Church in Canton in September, 1881. His foster

mother was bitterly enraged at him for so doing, and all his brothers

were greatly displeased. They made strenuous efforts to prevent him

from attending church and from performing his religious duties, but

without success.

Their persecution, especially that of his foster mother, became

so bitter that in the spring of 1882, he was given the place of

door-keeper in one of our chapels, one hundred and thirty miles from

Canton, receiving for his services two dollars and fifty cents per

month. In the autumn of the same year he received a letter from an

elder in the Third Church, advising him not to return to Canton, as his

foster-mother and brothers had brought a charge against him of being

_unfilial_, which in China is a very serious crime. Their object was to

get him discharged from his position as bannerman. Instead, however, of

remaining away from Canton, he at once returned, saying he would go at

once and meet the charge. He found on arriving that all his property,

one shop and three dwelling-houses, had been sold for fourteen hundred

dollars. He was brought before a military officer and ordered to light

three sticks of incense and place them before an idol. He was told that

if he obeyed, the draft for fourteen hundred dollars lying upon the

table would be restored to him, but if he refused he would lose not

only that and his monthly allowance, but his betrothal, which had cost

him three hundred dollars, would be made null and void, altogether that

which he would forfeit would be what is for a Chinaman a comfortable

and permanent livelihood. Sign and save, refuse and lose. He refused

and was cast out penniless. He entered the training school, and after

three years of faithful study was appointed to preach. He is now doing

a useful and encouraging work three hundred miles from Canton, at Sam

Kong, near Lien Chow. Until near the close of last year this man’s

relatives refused to have anything to do with him, when, much to his

delight, a great change took place. They became not only willing to

welcome him home, but to hear him make known the Gospel. It came about

in this way: one of his brothers at a tea-shop had seen a member of the

Third Church, also a bannerman, telling the people about Jesus.

One of the company in anger struck him a blow in the face, telling

him he need not come there to preach to them. He smiled and went on

with his discourse. Ng-hin-ki’s brother was much surprised. He knew

the speaker was naturally high-tempered, was physically strong, and

was no coward. In fact he knew perfectly well that what prevented the

bannerman from striking back was not fear, but principle. This won his

admiration for the man and respect at least for his message and was the

occasion of bringing about in his family the changed feeling mentioned

above.

A PRODIGAL SON.

I HAVE opened one more school, a mile from the road. I had to walk that

distance. Those burning days it was pretty severe, as the road lay over

sand hills and plowed fields. The school was so nice, the children so

happy, one could not remember the discomfort.

An old Mohammedan priest tried to break it up, and did compel some to

withdraw their children, but the school is secure.

Several women came in to see Miss Sohiba and watch the school. The

Bible lesson began from a picture of the Prodigal Son, hung on the

wall. An old lady listened; her face sobered, tears filled her eyes;

finally, amid broken sobs, she declared—

“O, Miss Sohiba, that is my boy! That is my boy!”

Most touchingly she told how he had gone, how she had watched and

waited for him, but he never came back.—_Extract from Miss Pratt’s

letter from India._

[Illustration: THE TOWER OF KOUTUB, PLAIN OF DELHI.]

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT.

The address of Mrs. G. R. Alden (Pansy), is Winter Park, Orange Co.,

Florida. All contributions for THE PANSY magazine should be sent to

that P. O., and _not_ to the Publishers, D. Lothrop Company.

ALL ALONG THE LINE.

_Conducted by_

R. M. ALDEN.

[Illustration]

We have to thank many of our readers, this month, for

helping us in this Department. Let others follow their

example, and begin this part of the winter’s work.

Address everything for us to R. M. Alden, Box 17,

Winter Park, Orange County, Florida.

WE hear from the Secretary of a Band in India of how they are educating

two Mexican girls, whom a missionary has taken to educate for teachers.

Who knows what great food this seed may start?

A MISSION BAND in Brighton, Massachusetts, made over one hundred

dollars in a fair held last May. There were fancy articles and

refreshments sold. Twenty dollars were voted to the “Fresh Air Fund,”

and twenty more to some home missionaries in the West. [We are indebted

to Miss Bessie Cotton for the report.]

HAVE the readers of THE PANSY heard of the natives of the Charlotte

Islands, ignorant and benighted, who gave, one Sabbath, one hundred of

their blankets, valued at one dollar and twenty-five cents each, toward

the erection of a new church? If we consider the resources and ideas

of this people, it was truly a great gift, and a good example for any

Americans. [We have to thank Adella F. Coy for calling our attention to

this most interesting item.]

AT Nolo, Iowa, there is a very busy mission band, of nine members,

which is making up a box for a hospital in Council Bluffs. They are

earning money in various ways. Some gather eggs and have one out of

every dozen, some have raised chickens, one little pigs. One boy’s

father offered him ten cents apiece for all the squirrels he would

catch on the farm. But so many poor nut-crackers became prisoners that

the price came down to two and one half cents. The Band held a Lawn

Festival, at which they sold various refreshments, and made thirteen

dollars. They are knitting stockings, hoods, and mittens, dressing a

doll and piecing a comforter. Success to all who “are not weary in

well-doing.”

IN the streets of large mission stations of Japan, there are rooms open

all day, in charge of the missionaries, where the heathen may learn

of the true religion. A countryman entered one of these stations and

had a long talk with one of the missionaries,—whom it was our pleasure

to meet this summer. When he went home he was a Christian. Some weeks

afterward the missionaries received a letter from him. He wrote: “We

have here a church, Sabbath-school, prayer-meeting, etc., all composed

of one member. I get along nicely, except for the Communion Service.

And if you could send me by mail a bit of the bread you use could I not

have a service all by myself?” The bread was sent, and some time later

the convert wrote back how much he enjoyed the Communion Service, all

alone, with Jesus.

THE young people of a certain church in the West, had a chance not long

since to give an object lesson and did it well. One of their number

who had been long absent from home, soon after her return, made an

entertainment for her friends; delightful music was to be expected, and

some other enjoyments of a special character. The invitations were sent

out for Friday evening; to the lady’s disappointment, one, and another

and another, of those whom she specially wanted, politely declined

the invitation; they were sorry not to be with her; under other

circumstances nothing would give them greater pleasure, but for that

evening they had a previous engagement. On being pressed as to what it

was, they explained that it was the evening for their regular young

people’s prayer meeting! Their friend was so astonished at this reply,

that she took some trouble to learn whether the young ladies had known

of one another’s intentions in declining her invitation, and found that

each had acted without knowing what the other meant to do. Don’t you

think she must have decided that in the minds of some people the prayer

meeting was an important place, and the engagement to attend it was not

to be lightly broken?

[Illustration: The P. S. CORNER]

MERRY CHRISTMAS to all my Blossoms! Glad am I to be able to give you

this happy greeting once more. And to the many new faces which I greet

for the first time, the wish is just as hearty; may each of you have

this month, not only the merriest, but, in the truest sense of the

word, the best Christmas you ever enjoyed in your lives.

Shall I tell you how to make sure of this? I dare say you know, but I

will just repeat the thought to keep it before your minds. In the first

place, let each of you make a Christmas gift, very costly and very

precious, to the best friend you have. Now I see many sorrowful faces,

and hear low, regretful voices: “You would like to, but you have no

money to spend, or at best but very little, and cannot afford anything

costly.” Is that what I hear you say? Mistaken, every one of you. The

most costly and precious thing in the world, is the strong true heart

which has its home in your body, my boy—or my girl. I want you, this

Christmas month, to give it away to the Lord Jesus Christ.

No matter if you have done it before. I am glad to know that many of

you have. Just renew the gift. Choose some quiet hour, and go alone,

and, on your knees, say: “Lord Jesus, I give myself anew to Thee, in

return for Thy great Christmas gift to me. I give Thee my time, and my

strength and my will. I ask Thee to direct me all day, and every day,

in the way in which Thou wouldst have me go. And I promise to use my

tongue to speak for Thee, and my hands to work for Thee, and my feet

to do errands for Thee, and my heart to love Thee.”

I wonder how many will use this prayer, and mean each word in their

hearts? Just so many will be sure to have a happy Christmas, and a

happy year.

One other thing: Some of our Blossoms have been transplanted during the

year that is past. God has sent his angels and gathered them to bloom

in His upper garden, where flowers never wither. Now, while we are glad

for them, shall we not remember the homes from which they have gone?

The dear fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters, who cannot,

sometimes, keep the tears from coming, because they miss their darlings

so? Will not every Pansy Blossom ask the dear Lord to help and comfort

these sorrowing hearts?

Now, just one thing more: What can you do on Christmas Day which will

make somebody else happier than he or she could possibly have been if

you had not done it?

Think it out, my Blossoms, “something for each of you now to do.” Then,

set to work and do it; then write and tell me all about it, and I’ll

weave all your letters into a story for next year’s PANSY.

Lovingly,

PANSY.

======

_Annie and Florence._ No doubt your game, “Jack Throws,” is a good one

but as it has a diagram, and as our printer cannot always prepare such,

it may fail to appear. Sorry.

_Alice L. Snow._ Send a copy of your Queer Story for examination. You

did capitally on the geographical puzzle. “A Christian since eleven

years of age.” So glad I am of this. I trust the Saviour is glad, too.

Is it your constant aim to make Him glad?

MYRTIE A. B. Your Queer Story almost, not quite, correct. Don’t be

discouraged. The effort has done you great good, making you a better

speller. And you don’t have to go “three miles” to the Queer Story

school. You must teach your puss better manners when you are working at

your lessons.

_Mamie Fuller._ You must keep some of the writing you do now while you

are six years old, and put it by the side of what you do when you are

sixty. I guess you will see great progress. And I hope you will come

very near the Lord Jesus in that time.

_C. R. Richmond._ A picnic in a beautiful grove; five hundred present;

a brass band; oranges, ice-cream, lemonade; talks by Revs. King and

Adams; a bountiful dinner following, etc., etc. It seems as though

Master Colin and his companions must have gone home with sunny hearts

and faces, and in love with the S. S. Did you?

_Minnie Locket._ When a dear little Pansy writes as well as ever he or

she can, they need not ask me to excuse their penmanship or anything

else about the writing. All I care to know is that they do their very

best. No one can do more, and so there is no room for an excuse. Do

your best, Minnie, every time, and you will not be ashamed.

_Jessie P. Davis._ Whenever your PANSIES fail to come, write to D.

Lothrop Co., 32 Franklin Street, Boston, Mass. Do not think that any

Pansy can be so small as not to be missed. The baby is the smallest

body in the house. Don’t you think it would be missed?

_H. C. Withey._ The monkey game you send must be very funny, but its

length and the difficulty of “doing” it here will explain why it does

not appear in the PANSY. Perhaps you will try again, and send something

very short and easily played. The Pansies will be interested in

anything of that sort from Africa.

_Lolo Keeling._ Don’t despair whatever may come. Carry your failures to

Jesus. Try again. Triumph will come.

_M. Nellie Lindsey._ Thank you for remembering to write to me many

times, even if you did “forget to send them off.” And what in the

August magazine pleased you so much besides that letter?

_Fannie W. Ambler._ Let me commend you for plain writing. The Queer

Story is well done, though with some mistakes. Try again, my dear.

_M. Lillie Read._ Your Queer Story is much like Fannie’s, almost, but

not quite, right. Never mind; there’s another for you. Don’t be afraid

of it. Don’t be cast down over any failure, but up and at it again.

Train the baby to be a true Pansy. I’m so glad you make any progress.

_Nellie Wright._ “Nine years old.” Said and done a thousand things or

more in that time. Now, suppose you live to be ninety,—my dear uncle

has just died at ninety-two,—and you keep on saying and doing, then how

many thousand will it be? But all the better if it be all for Jesus’

sake. I like Florida, and you must like Kansas, which gives you “lots

of corn and fruit.”

BIBLE READING FOR DECEMBER.

(_Christ._)

Dec. 1. Ps. xxiv: 7-10; 1 Cor. ii: 8.

“ 2. Mi. v: 2; Matt. ii: 3-6.

“ 3. Is. lx: 6; Matt. ii: 7-12.

“ 4. Hos. xi: 1; Matt. ii: 13-15.

“ 5. Jer. xxxi: 15; Matt. ii: 16-18.

“ 6. Is. xi: 2 and xlii: 1; Matt. 3: 13-17.

“ 7. Is. ix: 6; Luke ii: 11.

“ 8. Is. liii: 4; Matt. viii: 16, 17

“ 9. Is. liii: 5; 1 Pet. ii: 24.

“ 10. Is. liii: 7; Matt. xxvii: 12-14.

“ 11. Is. liii: 9; Matt. xxvii: 57-60.

“ 12. Is. liii: 10; Luke iii: 6.

“ 13. Matt. iv: 18-22.

“ 14. Matt. iv: 23-25.

“ 15. Matt. ix: 18, 19, 23-26.

“ 16. Matt. xi: 25-30.

“ 17. 2 Cor. v: 14, 15, 17.

“ 18. Rom. viii: 1, 2, 17, 18.

“ 19. Rom. viii: 35, 37-39.

“ 20. Rom. xv: 1-3.

“ 21. Rom. v: 1-2.

“ 22. Rom. v: 7-9.

“ 23. John xviii: 33-40.

“ 24. Luke ii: 8-14.

“ 25. Luke ii: 15-20.

“ 26. John xix: 1-7.

“ 27. John xix: 8-12.

“ 28. John xix: 13-16.

“ 29. John xix: 17-22 and xx: 31.

“ 30. Mark xvi: 19; Lu. xxiv: 51; Acts i: 9.

“ 31. Acts i: 10, 11; Matt. 24: 42-46.

EXTRACTS FROM PANSY LETTERS.

DEAR PANSY:

From a tiny child, May, if told to do anything, would do it just a

little differently. If told to put a thing on the table, she would

say, “I dess will put it on lounge,” and when I answered, “No; on the

table,” she would skip along, laughing, “I dess will put it on chair.”

But doing a little differently from mamma’s way and God’s way will end

in many a heartache Pray that mother and child may yield impliably to

the dear Father’s will.

MAY and her MAMMA.

P. S. May sends six cents for the organ, earned by washing and wiping

dishes.

======

DEAR PANSY:

This is one of my compositions:

A PAPER OF NEEDLES.

First, a coil of steel wire, twenty-four inches long. This cut through

the middle by scissors into little curved bundles, long enough for two

needles. Straighten and point them—on a grindstone. They are pointed at

both ends. They must now have their eyes opened. Needles, like puppies

and kittens, are born blind. They are stamped with a heavy die that

leaves the print of two needles’ heads and eyes at the center of the

wire. Then the eyes are opened with a double punch.

HARRY B. HAYES.

======

DEAR PANSY:

My fault is that I am ready to give, but not to take advice. I am

president of a society. One member chooses another to write about;

others read or recite selections. I attend Shurtleff Grammar School.

NELLIE F. TREAT.

======

DEAR PANSY:

When I read answers to letters, it seems to hit me. I will try to be

more patient with brother and sister. I am a church member, and I very

much wish my cousin were. It is hard sometimes to talk about Christ. I

talk about other things readily. Why?

BLANCHE E. TREAT.

======

DEAR PANSY:

As to how we spend our evenings: we play games and speak pieces, and we

have lots of books and papers. We like THE PANSY. Papa got THE PANSY

for us and we did not know it till we got the mail. Mamma gave us

“Young People at Home,” which you wrote, and which we like much. _Maud_

and _Mabel Davis_, my sisters, are writing; so I thought I would.

Mamma does not like to have me tease my little brother Romie. I will

try not to do so.

ALICE.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Badges received in time to organize. They are lovely. They will help us

to remember our faults. We meet at each other’s homes weekly and read,

sew, sing, pray, and play THE PANSY games. “Monteagle” is splendid.

Hope the trip will help Dilly get well, and she will help naughty Hart

get better. What a good woman Mrs. Hammond is to have such a bad boy. I

guess he’ll come out right.

MABEL S. KAGEY.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I send a small sum for the organ. I sent sixty cents to D. Lothrop

Company, and received “A Girl’s Room.” I would not part with it for

twice that. Every girl should have it. The book gives me an idea what

to do with things. I am much interested in “Around the Family Lamp.”

EMMA FISK.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Our mission band is “The Cheerful Givers.” Mrs. Prof. Jewett is the

teacher. She is nice. We like her—at least I do, and we all think the

others ought to. We have mite boxes to put our pennies into, to buy

maps of the world. I am not failing to mind my badge.

MABEL HICKS.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I am eight and cannot write well. I tried last week. The words were

hard to spell. I got tired. Tears came, so did mamma, and said, “Wait,

I will help you.” I have taken your paper since I was a bit of a girl,

and love it, and can hardly wait till it comes.

I have many, many, many naughty traits. Send me a badge. It may help

me. Mamma and my good auntie read THE PANSY to me, and they enjoy it as

much as I. Papa died before I was three years old. I want to be good

“For Jesus’ sake.”

ANNIE T. DANA.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Your answer to my last did me a world of good. I have it in my album,

as one of my most precious treasures. I’m determined to grow up a

useful Christian woman—thanks to the “Whisper Motto” and the influence

of PANSY and my mother. Mamma has no ambition for her children but that

they become genuinely good. When we are determined to be so, she wishes

us to join some church. There are six, and as merry and happy as the

“Little Peppers” of whom dear Margaret Sidney wrote so sweetly.

BLANCHE CRAWFORD.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I enclose five cents. I earned it for the organ fund by learning the

multiplication table.

MINNIE LOCKWOOD.

======

DEAR PANSY:

We have almost finished a bed-quilt and are making holders to sell; in

that way to raise money to buy cotton and lining. Every week a word is

given out. We learn a Bible verse with that word, to repeat at the next

meeting.

GERTIE CURRIER.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Please print my letter, as it is the first I have written to any paper.

I got a good many Christmas gifts, among them a canary. I named her

Soldie. I want to join the P. S. My fault is getting angry. I mean to

try real hard and break that horrid fault. I would like a badge. I

think you are real lovely. I would like to see you. I am your constant

reader and loving little friend. No one helped me about my story.

ELIZA W. HOLLAND.

ELIZA’S STORY.

(_Ella’s Lesson._)

Ella Smith was six years old. Her mother told her to take care of the

baby while she went up street. Ella went into her mother’s room for the

baby. The bureau drawer being open, she thought she would take a peep.

Naughty Ella! in it lay three large oranges. How good they looked! She

said to herself, “I will just touch them.” They felt so mellow she took

two large bites. When her mother came, she punished Ella. Never did she

peep into her mother’s drawer again.

DEAR PANSY:

I am trying to overcome my fault, which is putting off, and not

starting the moment I am spoken to. I like the whisper motto. I have

your picture and think very much of it. I have a pansy bed, and when I

look at it, it makes me think of the Pansy Society.

ULA COOK.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I think the games published in THE PANSY are lovely. We children, this

spring, in our yard, planted some seeds, and in three days they began

to show themselves. We planted the seeds in June and now they have buds

on them.

RITA E. BOARDMAN.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I have five dolls, Mabel, Phœbe, Sallie, Mollie, and Nannie. I love

Phœbe the best. I have had her almost two years. I have two cats, Mrs.

Kitty Clyde and her son Tom. We have a dog, too. His name is Nero.

ROSALIE T. CANFIELD.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Perhaps some of the Pansies would like to hear of my two little horned

toads, about an inch and one half long. I have them in a wire-screen

cage. I have a big black beetle in the cage with them, and they don’t

seem to like him very well. I feed them with cornmeal and flies.

OLLIE CUTTER CLARKE.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Thank you ever so much for the badge. I think it has helped me some,

but I left it in Denver when I came to Leadville to spend the summer.

ORLENA BEGGS.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I lend my PANSIES to my friends to read. I found ninety-eight mistakes

in the Queer Story of August PANSY.

SADIE M. KNIGHT.

======

DEAR PANSY:

Willie Hicks, a dear little fellow in Africa, six months only, has gone

to his heavenly home. Each Angola station has its representative in

Heaven; but with Melville Cox, we say, “Though a thousand fall, let

Africa be redeemed.” My bed is a bamboo frame, a canvas cot laced to

it, set on low horses. I am learning how to use tools. I want to make

a desk and case for my little library. I have no PANSY books. If I had

money they would be here soon.

HERBERT C. WITHEY.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I walked in my garden to-day;

Many wee faces looked up

From their shady retreat.

Some had eyes dark or blue;

Some, curls of golden hue;

Dressed were some in velvets rare,

Or quaint, gay frocks,

These babies dear.

I asked them to come and live with me;

Gayly they laughed,

“Pansies are we.”

E. EDWARDS.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I am so ashamed of myself I don’t like to write to you. I beg your

pardon. I have not worn my badge much, and I have not written to you.

It is all because I am so neglectful. I will try to wear my badge more.

MAMIE THOMPSON.

======

DEAR MRS. ALDEN:

We have a beautiful location. Looking south, we see the little valley

with Keiser Creek, like a thread, bright and clear; on either side, the

rocky hills, with pines, separated by deep ravines. Away beyond the

foot hills, overtopping all, is the Yellowstone or Snowy Range, lifting

up their white tops on the hottest days, as if in derision. Rocks are

everywhere. “The Rockies” are rightly named. Several miles down the

river is “Pompey’s Pillar,” on the rocky face of which is carved the

name of Wm. Clark, 1806, the explorer. Not far is the battle-ground, on

which the gallant Custer and his men lost their lives by the Indians.

LUE J. ROSEAU.

======

DEAR MRS. ALDEN:

The Carmans gave us a concert. The church was full. Every one was

delighted. They stayed all night at our house and sang. So we had a

free concert. It makes me think of an angel to look at Miss Nellie

while she sings. Davie is such a sweet, manly boy. I wish there were

more such boys. I don’t know of any. I like Mr. and Mrs. Carman, too.

They are all beautiful singers. Davie is fourteen, and superintends a

mission Sabbath-school. While reading Docia’s Journal, I decided for

Christ.

EDITH M. HILLBRANT.

======

DEAR PANSY:

When your kind letter came, Auntie Alice Ferree was here from Kansas

City. She used to live in Greensburg, Ind., and knew you, and wishes

to be remembered. I showed my badge to Gov. St. John. He sends kindest

regards.

LENA PUGH.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I counted one hundred and sixty-six mistakes in the Queer Story. I have

written to ask you to write a letter and put it in THE PANSY. I could

not find A Sevenfold Trouble, in one of the PANSIES. Call me Aurelia

from Mass. There are so many Lizzies.

LIZZIE A. POTTER.

======

DEAR PANSY:

I found one hundred and fifty-seven mistakes in the Queer Story. [Send

a copy corrected.—Ed.] I have two pets, a bird and a kitten. The kitten

is black, yellow, and white. Her name is Pansy. My bird is cardinal;

his name, Mac. Good-by!

MABEL DYNAM.

======

E. Smith’s letter, with badge, sent to Roberts, Ill., has returned.

A letter signed Jonnae J., 2617, Park Ave., St. Louis, Mo., received.

Henry P. Austin’s letter, sent to South Paris, Me., with badge, comes

back.

S. H. Sterling writes from Philadelphia, Pa., without street and number.

The above persons should immediately write, giving full name, street,

and number, and write very plainly.

THE QUEER STORY.

PRESCILA ALDON lived in a verry valuble pavilian in Tenessee. She was a

buisy gerl, driveing her Shettling pones from hous too hous and carying

lillies, raisens, robbins, rabits, aggs and menny other plesent an

prety presants two sutch as wer in nead.

She wasent a fraid nuther off takeing a litle troubble whar thar was

opertunity of makeing her nabours hapy.

She desided to oregonize a socity of Pansys. Consequensely she was

going an comming hear an thare verry ofen and writeing leters, hopeing

two recieve manny menbers like other socitys. She securred meny honary

nembers two. So she ocupied herself til Febwary, wen the aniversary of

the socity came. Then it was reccomended that the anniversity should be

selebrated by an entetainment of adreses, resiting peaces, musec, bone

fiers, ice creems, punkin pise and chickins and that all Pansys should

ware thare bages and collors and that no teaseing or plaging boy be

aloud too com til he promiced too lieve everry folt to home an bring

towells and sope to cleen the durty dishes.

Sence sum wouldent concent, thay wer not permited two com. But the

selebration was a grate sucess an Prescila was hapy.

[Mabel L. Thomas and Maude Lincoln have mastered the mistakes of the

Queer Story.]

THE STENOGRAPH.

A CONTRIVANCE, by M. M. Bartholomew of New York, weighing about three

pounds, costing forty dollars, about the size and shape of a man’s

hand, with five different keys and a roll of narrow paper, something

like a spool of silk, designed for “fast writing,” is the Stenograph;

so named, because that is the meaning of the word in Greek.

This queer little creature can make its mark, that’s all. But it can do

it so quickly and put it in so many different places and orders when

its fingers are touched by wire and spry human fingers that it can

write all your pen can write and do it in a fraction of the time, while

the operator’s eyes are looking away into the face of the speaker whose

words are being taken down.

Then, you can learn to “make it talk” in three months!

Suppose, now, some of you Pansies manage in some way to own a

Stenograph and teach the dear to mind the moment you speak to it. It

would be a delight to you to play upon it as upon your piano. Besides,

it would probably make music for your pocket. There is money in it.

You would be in demand at conventions and other places as a reporter

of speeches and sermons. And you could command good pay, if you were a

good stenographer.

Who knows but some of you will get your “bread and butter” by means of

this queer little creature?

C. M. L.

NEW BOOKS.

(_Published by D. Lothrop Company._)

TRUE MANLINESS. By Thomas Hughes. Price $1. I want to say a word about

this book to a certain dear little girl I know who has a whole dollar

with which to buy papa’s Christmas present, and who cannot decide what

to buy. She knows papa likes books better than almost anything else,

but then, how should a young girl know what book to select for a man

who has gray hair?

My darling, I feel sure papa would like this very book. It is the

reason I selected it from a large number of others, to tell the Pansies

about, because I thought of you and your dollar. A very pretty book

in a deep maroon binding, with three hundred pages of reading matter,

and all of it put in paragraphs so that a busy man, who has but a few

minutes to read, can seize this volume, get some sweet and helpful

thoughts from it, during the five minutes when he is waiting for the

mail, or for the street-car, and then go on his busy way. Just the

thing for your hurried papa, don’t you see? In fact the book belongs

to a set, named “The Spare Minute Series,” gotten up for just such

waitings as I have described.

“Would the book be ‘nice’ for you to read?”

Well, no, little girlie, I’m inclined to think it would be rather

“grown-up” for you, because, you see, it was written to help your

grown-up papa and mamma. There are bits in it that you would like; and

your fifteen-year-old brother would often read words in it that would

please and help him. I open the book at random, and find these words

under the heading of “Courage.”

“After all, what would life be without fighting, I should like to know?

From the cradle to the grave, fighting, rightly understood, is the

business, the real highest, honestest business of every son of man.

“Every one who is worth his salt, has his enemies, who must be beaten,

be they evil thoughts and habits in himself, or spiritual wickednesses

in high places, or Russians, or Border-ruffians.”

Don’t you know your brother said, only a few days ago when he got cross

and things went wrong, that he felt as though he should like to _fight_

somebody?

Here is his chance, with directions how to carry out his wish.

A CHAUTAUQUA IDYL. By Grace Livingston. Price 75 cents. The queerest

little Chautauqua story you ever read! All about a new Chautauqua which

is to be; one in which the birds and the flowers, and the fishes, and

the squirrels, and all that lovely out-door life at which we look on,

are deeply interested, as indeed they may be, for they are the prime

movers. You couldn’t guess who leads the music, nor, for the matter

of that, who gives lessons in Theology! A book full of lovely summer

secrets, just right for the little people to read during the winter

evenings.

Pictures? I should think so! Lovely ones; almost every page in the book

is illustrated. Some of your little brothers ought to send for copies

for Christmas presents for the sisters, or cousins, who always expect

books from you.

Would it do, I wonder, to tell you a secret?

I mean you boys and girls who have read, and who love, “Grandpa’s

Darlings?”

The truth is, this Grace Livingston is the very little “Gracie,”

Grandpa’s own darling, who has grown up to be a young woman, and the

first day she had a chance, she wrote this book, all about a queer,

sweet, new Chautauqua; just to pay her “Auntie Belle,” for telling all

sorts of funny things about her when she was Grandpa’s Darling.

SCRIPTURE BIRTHDAY BOOK. Price, $1.00. I thought I was tired of

Autograph Albums, but this pretty little book bound in green and gold,

containing a carefully-selected Bible-verse, and a verse of a hymn, for

each day in the year, with a blank space for friends to write their

names, gives me a great deal of pleasure. I think I should like to

write in such a book as this. I’m sure I should like to give each of my

young friends a Christmas present of a copy; and I would ask them to

please learn the verse for each day. The one for the first day of the

New Year is: “Sing unto the Lord with thanksgiving, for consider how

great things he hath done for you.”

[Illustration: He giveth snow like wool: He scattereth the hoar-frost

like ashes.—PSALM cxlvii. 16.

FROM THE “SCRIPTURE BIRTHDAY BOOK.”]

And the accompanying verse is:

“Man’s life’s a book of history;

The leaves thereof, are days;

The letters, mercies closely joined;

The title is, Thy praise.”

Ah! there are pictures in it, too; one for each month. The first one

shows us such a lovely snowy world, that I will have it copied for you

to see.

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Sample by mail 20 cents (stamps). Mention this journal.

_Russia Cement Co._ GLOUCESTER, MASS.]

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CHARLES REMINGTON TALBOT]

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Mrs. Sherwood]

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[Illustration: THE STORY OF THE AMERICAN INDIAN

BY ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS]

Keen as a sea-story. Gathers the myths, and tales and authentic

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The bookstores have them; or send to the publishers,

D. LOTHROP COMPANY, Boston.

IN THE SELECTION OF

=A CHOICE GIFT=

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=All in One Book=.

3000 more Words and nearly 2000 more Illustrations than any other

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TRUE STORIES OF AMERICAN WARS. From Records and Famous Traditions.

Ill. Boston: D. Lothrop Company. Price, $1.25. The twelve capital

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title-page that they were drawn from old records and family traditions

is literally true; each story has its appropriate basis of fact, and

some of them are very slightly embellished indeed. In every family

of the older States there are legends of the old Indian wars which

have never been written; and records of suffering and privation, of

deeds of daring and heroism, which to-day seem almost incredible. And

fresher and more vivid than these are the tales of the Revolution, the

battles, skirmishes and marches in which our ancestors participated,

comparatively few of which have been told outside the family circle

or the localities where they occurred. There is not a town along the

shores of Connecticut and Massachusetts but has its traditions, and

something more than traditions, of deeds that took place during the

later war of 1812, as stirring, perhaps, as any of those of older

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volume have drawn the narratives they have here set down. Among them is

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at Newport, by a picked party of Americans under Colonel Barton,

one of the most daring exploits of the Revolution. Another is the

narrative of the raid of the Indians upon Royalton, Vt., in 1780, when

the village was burned and several of the inhabitants murdered. Other

sketches are entitled, “A Revolutionary Turncoat,” “The First Blow for

American Liberty,” “Joel Jackson’s Smack,” etc. Most of the stories are

illustrated.

STORY OF THE AMERICAN INDIAN. By Elbridge S. Brooks. Boston: D. Lothrop

Company. Price $2.50. The North American Indian has been for years a

problem and a paradox. With manners and customs analagous to those of

almost every nation of civilized antiquity his origin remains as great

a mystery as ever. The owner and lord of a continent, his possessions

have shrunk to nothing and his native freedom has faded away into a

state of sullen vassalage. Theorized over and speculated about by

scholars and scientists, made the text of many a disquisition by

philosophers and economists, used now as a hero and now as a fiend by

romancer and poet, and played with as a shuttlecock by philanthropist

and politician, his story has never yet been fully told, nor the record

of his power, his progress and his decline been given in anything like

historic detail.

The material devoted to the several phases of the Indian’s history is

very great, but no consecutive record exists in all this material, and

one who wishes to follow the course of the red-man’s rise and decline

has heretofore been unable to intelligently select from the accumulated

record enough connected material to present a satisfactory survey

of the case. Of late years the public conscience has been aroused

to something like interest in the Indian; his wrongs are admitted

and, almost too late, measures for his help and his reclamation

find listeners and supporters. The American sense of justice has

developed into something like a determination to see justice done to

an unfortunate race, and official mismanagement of Indian affairs as

well as border tyrannies over a fallen foe arouse more indignation

and protest than have yet been known since the days of discovery and

conquest. It is with the desire to place before the American public

a rounded record of this conquered race at precisely the time when

inquiry and interest in them are both awakened that Mr. Brooks has

prepared and published his “Story of the American Indian.” The volume

has no pet theory to advocate, it advances no solution of the Indian

problem. It seeks only to place before the readers of the land the

story of an injured race in strong but simple language and in brief but

direct detail.

The many and conflicting theories as to the Indian’s origin have

been sifted and debated, and what seems the most practical and the

simplest explanation is given. The condition and culture of the red-man

through a thousand years of supremacy before the era of discovery are

thoughtfully stated. The story of colonial mistreatment and of national

indifference are told and the real story of the Indian is here set

down in the plainest but most forcible manner. The story is told in a

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of its telling can hardly fail to arouse interest and awaken sympathy.

As the record of a race that has yielded to the dominant energy of its

conquerors, the book merits more than passing attention and must stand

as a glimpse at a life that has long since lost its manhood and its

identity, and the story of a race that has fallen victim to the vices

rather than the prowess of a higher civilization.

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beautiful set of seven Cabinet Portraits of

=D’Oyley Carte’s Original English Mikado Company, Fifth Avenue

Theatre, New York City.= For Twenty-five complete

wrappers we will mail a copy of the most Beautiful

Panel Picture ever published, entitled,

=“The Two Sisters.”=

The original painting is owned by us, and cannot be

copied or duplicated by any other firm, and hence is

worthy a place in any house in the land. For sixty

complete wrappers we will mail a copy of

=Short Hints on Social Etiquette=

and

=Worcester’s Pocket Dictionary, 298 Pages.=

The Housekeeper will find on a trial, _according to

directions_, that the washing does not require HALF

THE QUANTITY of DOBBINS’ ELECTRIC SOAP that it does of

_any other_; that there is a great saving of time and

labor in its use; that it saves the wear and tear of

the clothes on the washboard, and does not cut or rot

them to pieces, or hurt the hands, as adulterated soaps

do.

=IT DISINFECTS CLOTHES WASHED WITH IT,=

leaving them thoroughly cleansed and sweet, instead

of adding a foul odor of rosin and filthy grease.

[Illustration] It washes flannels _without shrinking_,

leaving them soft and nice.

Respectfully,

I. L. CRAIGIN & CO.,

=Manufacturers Dobbins’ Electric Soap.=

No. 119 S. 4th St., Philadelphia, Pa.

=400 RECITATIONS=

AND READINGS. We will send to any address on receipt of 30 cents, a

handsome book, bound in paper cover, and containing 400 of the best

recitations ever issued. Address

J. S. OGILVIE & CO., 57 Rose Street, New York.

=LADIES= We have just had designed and made by one of the best

pattern designers in the country =TWENTY NEW PERFORATED PATTERNS= for

=Stamping= and =Embroidery=. These Patterns are worth at retail =20

CENTS EACH=. We wish to place our Catalogues in the hands of every lady

in the U. S., and to any one who will send us Twenty cents in stamps

to pay for postage and advertising, we will send the whole =20 ELEGANT

PATTERNS FREE.= Only one set of 20 can be sent to one person, as we

lose money on every set we send out. Send Silver or Postage Stamps and

Mention This Paper. Address the World M’f’g Co., 122 Nassau St., N. Y.

=AGENTS WANTED= (Samples FREE) for =DR. SCOTT’S= beautiful =ELECTRIC

CORSETS, BRUSHES, BELTS, ETC.= No risk, quick sales. Territory given,

satisfaction guaranteed.

=Dr. SCOTT, 843 B’way, N. Y.=

=Shorthand= Writing _thoroughly taught_ =by mail= or personally.

=Situations procured= all pupils when competent. Send for circular. =W.

G. CHAFFEE=, Oswego, N.Y.

[Illustration]

R. M. LAMBIE, ALL KINDS OF BOOK HOLDERS

THE MOST PERFECT Dictionary Holder.

Send for Illustrated Catalogue.

=39 E. 19th St., N.Y.=

[Illustration]

[Illustration: PRICE $193.]

=WE SELL DIRECT TO FAMILIES=—(avoid Agents and Dealers whose profits

and expenses double the cost on every Piano they sell) and send this

First-Class =UPRIGHT Cabinet GEM= 7½ Octave Rosewood Piano, Warranted 6

years, for =$193=! We send it—with Beautiful Cover and Stool—for Trial

in your own Home before you buy. Send for circulars to

=Marchal & Smith, 235 East 21st St., N. Y.=

[Illustration]

=The Lightning-Trick Box.= The neatest =trick= ever invented. You

take off the cover and show it is full of =candy=; replace it and you

can assure your friends it is empty; and taking off the cover again,

sure enough, the candy has =disappeared=. Any one can do the trick.

Directions sent with each. Sample, postpaid, 10c.; 3, 25c.; one doz.,

75c. =HOWARD MFG. CO.=, 45 Eddy St., PROVIDENCE, R.I.

=SHORT-HAND,= Type-Writing, Book-Keeping, Penmanship, &c., at Boston

Commercial College, 639 Washington St. Send for circular.

[Illustration]

=FACE, HANDS, FEET,= and all their imperfections, including Facial

Development, Hair and Scalp, Superfluous Hair, Birth Marks, Moles,

Warts, Moth, Freckles, Red Nose, Acne, B’lk Heads, Scars, Pitting and

their treatment. Send 10c. for book of 50 pages, 4th edition. =Dr. John

H. Woodbury, 37 North Pearl St., Albany, N. Y.= Established 1870.

[Illustration]

THE Toy the child likes best!

This is the title of a descriptive Price-list, richly illustrated in

colour-print, of the ANCHOR STONE BUILDING BOX, which should be found

in every family and may be obtained from all Toy dealers, Stationers

and Educational Depôts. The Price-list will be forwarded gratis on

application to

_=F. AD. RICHTER & Co.=_

NEW YORK, 310, BROADWAY or LONDON E.C.,

1, RAILWAY PLACE, FENCHURCH STREET.

LADIES’ =FANCY WORK=

=Ingalls’ Illustrated Catalogue= of Stamping Outfits, Felt, Linen

and Silk Stamped Goods, Fancy Work Materials, Books, Briggs Transfer

Patterns, etc., sent _free_ for one =2-c.= stamp.

=J. F. Ingalls, Lynn, Mass.=

=LADY AGENTS= clear =$100= Monthly with our new Undergarments and other

goods for =LADIES= only. =SAMPLE FREE= by return mail. =G. L. ERWIN &

CO.=, Chicago, Ill.

=DRESS=

Illustrated Catalogue Free.

=MRS. A. FLETCHER, 6 EAST 14TH ST., N. Y.=

=DRESS=

=“The Glory of the WOMAN is in Her Hair.”=

=Lyon’s Kathairon= gives length and Strength.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= contains no lead or sulphur.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= contains no rancid glycerine.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= was discovered by a great chemist.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= is a purely vegetable compound.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= purges away all dandruff.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= soothes and cools the scalp.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= kills tetter and ringworm in the scalp.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= stops all itching of the scalp.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= makes the hair glossy and silky.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= stimulates the growth of the hair.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= makes the tresses soft and wavy.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= is so clean it will not soil your linen.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= is the best and cheapest hair toilet.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= gives vigor and stops grayness.

=Lyon’s Kathairon= keeps the hair from falling out.

The following genuine certificate speaks for itself in orthography,

grammar and truthfulness as a testimonial to the worth and real merits

of

=Lyon’s Kathairon for the Hair:=

Maidsville, Monongalia Co., W. Va.,}

December 28, 1885. }

MR. LYON & CO.,

Dear Sirs:—I have been entirely bald for several years hereditaryly I

suppose, as my ansesters was bald so far back as I can remember or have

any knowledge. I tried all the hair vigors that I could handly get holt

of for several years but all of no use I became discouraged and quit

concluded it was hereditary and that my hare would never be restored

a gan. So in April 1885 I was pursuaded by Dr. C. C. Conaway to try

Lyon’s Kathairon and to my great surprise a fine suit of hair was soon

perceptable I continued the use of your Kathairon. I know have a fine

suit of hare for wich I am very thankful.

Yours truly,

C. C. KINCAID.

=Ladies and Gentlemen, give it a Trial.=

=EVERLASTING

POT POURRI=

OR

ROSE LEAF MIXTURE.

For Imparting to Apartments a Subtle, Delightful Perfume.

Prepared from AROMATICS and FLOWERS of

agreeable perfumes, with Musk and Ambergris

to impart permanence.

IT will last for years and the rose petals MAY BE RENEWED by adding

those from native roses by the addition of one teaspoonful of salt to

each quart of petals. The perfume may be intensified at any time by the

addition of Cologne, Florida Water or Concentrated Extracts.

Fill into a rose jar, vase or bowl until the Pot Pourri comes within

two thirds of the top. Adjust a cover, and when it is necessary to

perfume an apartment remove the cover for ten or fifteen minutes.

PREPARED ONLY BY

=THEODORE METCALF & CO.,=

39 Tremont Street, Boston.

=Sample mailed upon receipt of 25 cts. in stamps.=

=BOOK OF BEAUTIFUL SAMPLE CARDS.=

44 tricks in Magic, 800 Autograph Album Verses, 34 Amusing Games, 43

Ways to Make Money. All for a two cent stamp.

EAGLE CARD WORKS, CADIZ, OHIO.

[Illustration: Price $22.

MASON & HAMLIN ORGAN CO.

MASON & HAMLIN BABY CABINET ORGAN]

This little organ has as much power as any single reed organ; with

that excellent quality which characterizes the Mason & Hamlin Organs.

It is successfully employed for private and public uses; even, in some

instances, for the accompaniment of hundreds of voices.

A circular with about one hundred opinions of purchasers of this

smallest organ will be forwarded to any one desiring it.

=PIANOS.=

Mason & Hamlin’s Piano Stringer was first introduced by them in 1882,

and has been pronounced by experts the “greatest improvement in pianos

in half a century.”

A circular, containing testimonials from three hundred purchasers,

musicians and tuners, sent, together with descriptive catalogue, to any

applicant.

=MASON & HAMLIN ORGAN AND PIANO CO.,

BOSTON, 154 TREMONT ST. CHICAGO, 149 WABASH AVE.

NEW YORK, 46 EAST 14TH ST. (UNION SQUARE.)=

=941 HIDDEN NAME CARDS,= scrap pictures, puzzles, games, tricks, money

making secrets, album verses, and the largest and finest sample book of

new style cards ever issued. All for a 2-cent stamp. Steam Card Works,

Station 15, O.

NEW TEMPERANCE PUBLICATIONS.

The National Temperance Society has published over

1,600 different publications upon every phase of the

question, 154 of which are for Sunday-school Libraries.

Over 250 first-class writers have contributed to their

publication. Among the latest are the following:

=FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL LIBRARIES.=

=A Made Man.= 308 pp. By J. McNair Wright =$1 25=

=The Turning of the Wheel.= 322 pp. By Mary Dwinell Chellis =1 25=

=Dave Marquand.= 357 pp. By Annette L. Noble =1 25=

=The Story of Rasmus.= 338 pp. By J. McNair Wright =1 25=

=Roy’s Wife.= 562 pp. By Mrs. E. J. Richmond =1 00=

=Susan’s Sheaves.= 364 pp. By Mrs. C. M. Livingston =1 25=

=Never Begin Series.= 4 volumes, 170 pp. each =3 00=

=MISCELLANEOUS PUBLICATIONS.=

=The People versus The Liquor-Traffic.= By John B.

Finch. 12mo, 259 pp. Paper =$0 30=

Eleven great speeches of this eminent lecturer. A most severe, logical

and unanswerable arraignment of the liquor-traffic, and a most

convincing argument for Constitutional and Statutory Prohibition.

=Alcohol in History. A Prize Essay.= 12mo, 481 pp. By

Richard Eddy, D. D. =1 50=

It embraces the historical, statistical, economical and political

phases of the reform.

=An Hour with Mother Goose and Her Temperance Family.=

By Mrs. Nellie H. Bradley. =0 25=

Embracing Recitations, Colloquies, Solos, Duets, Choruses, etc., by

Mother Goose, Jack and Jill, Little Red Ridinghood, Old King Cole and

“the rest of the family.” The notes of the music are given, and the

entire entertainment will be found one of the best ever given. 32 pages.

=Readings and Recitations, No. 6.= By Miss L. Penney.

12mo, 120 pp. Cloth, 50 cents; paper =0 25=

A new and choice selection of readings and recitations, from the best

writers and speakers. The best compilation ever made. Suitable for use

in the schoolroom, the home, and at public gatherings.

=Rallying Songs for Young Teetotalers.= A splendid new

song-book for Bands of Hope, Juvenile Temples, Loyal

Legions, and all children’s organizations, containing a

new collection of choice songs, glees, marching-songs,

motion-songs, etc. Edited by Miss L. Penney, 64 pp. Per

dozen, $1.50; single copies. =0 15=

=Mother Goose for Temperance Nurseries.= By Mrs. J.

McNair Wright. 8vo, 68 pp. =0 25=

It consists of 31 songs or rhymes, with 31 beautiful illustrations and

31 wise sayings, for every day in the month, in the best style of Old

Mother Goose. Every child should have a copy.

=National Temperance Almanac for 1888.= Filled

with choice stories, handsome illustrations,

shadow-pictures, puzzles, facts, figures, etc. 72 pp. =0 10=

=The Little Red Stocking that Hung at the Gate.= A

Christmas Story. By Faith Wynne. 12mo, 72 pages =0 10=

=Christmas Temperance Service.= By J. N. Stearns. It

gives responsive readings, recitations, music, etc. 8

pp., octavo, per hundred =2 00=

Address =J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 58 Reade Street, N. Y.=

=THOUSANDS OF THE BEST=

=$38= =GOLD=

=WATCH=

=EVER MADE ARE SELLING IN OUR=

=CO-OPERATIVE CLUBS.=

=This is the Best, Cheapest,

Most Convenient,=

And _=only=_ co-operative System of selling watches. The watches are

American Lever Stem Winders, containing every essential to accuracy and

durability, and have, in addition, numerous patented improvements found

in no other watch. They are absolutely the only _=Dust and Dampproof

Movements=_ made in the World, and are jeweled throughout with

_=GENUINE RUBIES=_. The _=Patent Stem Wind and Set=_ is the strongest

and simplest made. _=They are fully equal for appearance, accuracy,

durability and service, to any $75 Watch.=_

Our Co-operative Club System brings them within the reach of every one.

=We want an active, responsible representative in EVERY CITY and TOWN.=

Heavy profits guaranteed on limited investment.

Write for full particulars.

The Keystone Watch Club Co.

=P. O. Box 928, Philadelphia, Pa.=

[Illustration: THE KEY STONE

WATCH CLUB Co.]

REFERENCES:—Keystone National Bank, or any Commercial Agency.

_=AGENCIES:=_

=New York, N.Y.=

=Chicago, Ill.=

=Pittsburgh, Pa.=

=Boston, Mass.=

=Philadelphia, Pa.=

=Detroit, Mich.=

=Harrisburg, Pa.=

=Denver, Col.=

=Baltimore, Md.=

=St. Louis, Mo.=

=Wilmington, Del.=

=Etc., etc.=

IS THE BEST GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?

KEYSTONE DUST PROOF WATCHES

PAT REG

Adjusted

154019

PAT. DUST PROOF

PATENT PINION

PAT. S. W.

KEYSTONE WATCH CO.

=ARE=

=THE=

=BEST=

=BECAUSE= They contain everything essential

to =Accurate Time Keeping= found in any watch, and

in addition have the following important patented

improvements, which appear =only in Keystone Watches:=

The =PATENT DUST PROOF= protects perfectly the balance

and hair spring (the most delicate and vital parts)

from damage, dirt and dampness.

The =Patent Compound Regulator= has absolutely no lost

motion.

The =PATENT STEM WIND= is the =strongest= and

=simplest= made.

The =Patent Dust-proof movements= are =free from all

variations= caused by dirt or dampness; an advantage

which no other maker does or dare claim.

This is the only Factory using =only Genuine Ruby

Jewels= _in every grade_, and all Keystone Watches are

made of the =best material=, and are =accurate time

keepers=, under our own guarantee.

=For Sale on Easy Terms, in Co-operative

Clubs at the Lowest Cash Prices, by=

The Keystone Watch Club Company,

P. O. Box 928. Philadelphia, Pa.

CHRISTMAS CARDS BY MAIL.

[Illustration: My weight in Love I send]

=OUR CARD PACKAGES= for 1887 and 1888 are ready. The assortment

is unusually large and fine, embracing the best cards that can be

obtained. These packets will be found the most =wonderful bargains ever

offered=. We advise early orders, as many will certainly desire to

re-order.

We will send a complete set of the first =six= packages for =$3.50=,

and 40 cts. for postage and registering, and of the complete =9 sets=

for =$5.00=, and 50 cents for postage and registering.

=No. 1.—For 50 cents and four cents for postage: 17

of L. Prang & Co.= and other fine Christmas Cards,

together with a Double Fringed Card and a handsome

Birthday Card.

=No. 2.—For 50 cents and 4 cents for postage: 10= large

and finer Cards from the above Publishers, also, a Fine

Frosted Card and a folding card cut in form of Sheaf of

Wheat.

=No. 3.—For $1 and 6 cents for postage:= A choice

selection of 25 Beautiful Cards, of =L. Prang & Co.’s=,

also a souvenir booklet and a Hand-Painted Card.

=No. 4.—For $1 and 8 cents for postage:= A selection of

=10= of our Largest and Finest Cards, together with a

Beautiful Four Folding Calendar for 1888, by L. Prang &

Co.

=No. 5.—For $1 and 10 cents for postage: 10 Double

Fringed Cards= (not folded), each in a separate

envelope, together with a fine Folding Fringe Card, and

a handsome Satin Card.

=No. 6.—For 25 cents and 2 cents for postage: 10

Prang’s, Tuck’s, Ward’s=, and other beautiful cards.

=No. 7.—For $1 and 8 cents for postage: 4 beautiful

Folding Cards and 4 Souvenir Books=, with appropriate

selections from best authors; retail price, 25 and 50

cents each, and an enlarged Lithographic Card of the

above cut by L. Prang & Co.

=No. 8.—BIRTHDAY PACKET. For 50 cents: 17 Fine Cards of

Prang’s or Tuck’s.=

=No. 9.—SUNDAY SCHOOL PACKAGE. For 50 cents: 20 Cards,

of Marcus Ward’s, Prang’s Cards=, assorted.

STAMPS OR POSTAL NOTES RECEIVED.

=Hand-Painted Cards, Pearl Cards=, and other Novelties

at =10, 15, 25, 50, 75 cents and $1= each, for

Christmas, Birthday, or Anniversary, which will be

selected with care for different tastes and ages as

specified.

=Chromo lithograph Cards by Prang & Co.= of the above

cut and verse, with companion cards, per doz., with one

booklet, postpaid, $1.

TO TEACHERS ONLY.

=50 Marcus Ward’s, Prang’s,= and other beautiful cards, no two alike,

for =$1= and =8= cents for Postage, Better Assortment, =$2= and =10=

Cents for Postage. A very choice selection, no two alike, =$3= and =20=

Cents for Postage and Registering.

_Every Packet will be sent in pasteboard Protectors, and heavy envelope

wrappers, for safe transmission._

The above offers include our Easter Card Packets for 1888. These will

be ready about March 1st. _Envelopes for mailing_ =12 cts= _for each

packet._

LOWEST PRICES IN THE UNITED STATES.

=PAPER BY THE POUND.= We are the New England Agents

for the =Hurlbut Paper Co.= (established in 1822), and

manufacturers of the =Beacon Hill Linen Paper= (no

better or more elegant paper can be made). Selling

direct from mills to the consumer, we are able always

to give lowest possible prices. Sample sheets of paper

and envelopes, with prices and number of sheets to

a pound, sent on receipt of =15 cents=, and special

prices to those taking orders for these papers with our

card packets.

=POT-POURRI.= (=Rose Leaves.=) A preparation of

=Rose-Leaf Petals= combined with the choicest

=Oriental= perfumes, which will remain fragrant for

years. Per box, size 3¼ by 4¾, postpaid =50 cents=. In

fine Japanese Jars, securely packed and filled, price

from =$1 to $5=.

=H. H. CARTER & KARRICK, 3 Beacon Street, BOSTON.=

[Illustration: =OUR 30 Cent Bracket Saw OUTFIT.=]

=A BRACKET SAW OUTFIT FOR 30 CENTS.=

With this outfit any boy or girl can =MAKE MONEY=. With 10 cts. worth

of wood, you can make articles that will sell easily for 75 cts. or

more. You can =GET YOUR MONEY BACK= on the first article you sell. You

can soon earn enough to buy a large foot saw, and then do business on a

larger scale. You can make articles to beautify your home, and handsome

presents to your friends. One of these outfits will not only prove

profitable, but will give you

=HOURS OF FASCINATING PLEASURE=,

which would otherwise have been wasted. Persons who work during the day

can make extra money by sawing a few minutes every evening. Send for

an outfit and try it, you will never regret it. The Outfit consists

of the following: =One Steel Bracket Saw Frame=, =Extra Saw Blades=,

=1 Brad Awl=, =Copying Paper= for copying designs, =Sand Paper=, =1

Dozen Patterns= for making Easels, Match Safes, Wall Brackets, Card

Baskets etc., =1 Pack Business Cards=, to give to your friends, and

=Full Directions= for using. All packed in a neat box and sent by mail,

post-paid for =Only= =Thirty Cents=.

P. O. Stamps taken =WORLD M’F’G CO., 122 Nassau Street, New York=.

=Just the thing for a Holiday Present.=

=——THE ENGLE SPRING GUN——=

_37 in. long._ _Steel Barrels._

[Illustration]

=NO REPORT.= =NO EXPLOSION.=

The Simplest and Best in the Market.

The Barrel of each Gun contains 25 Projectiles.

One =GUN= and 125 Projectiles will be sent postage paid to any part of

the United States for =$1.65=.

=ENGLE SPRING GUN CO.=,

Mention this paper. Hazleton, Penn’a.

A descriptive Circular and a Projectile sent on receipt of a two-cent

stamp.

[Illustration: ICE AND ROLLER SKATES.

BARNEY & BERRY

SPRINGFIELD,MASS.

CATALOGUE FREE]

[Illustration: =WILBUR’S= =COCOA—THETA=]

The Finest =Powdered Chocolate= for family use. _Requires no boiling._

=Invaluable for Dyspeptics= and =Children=. _Buy of your dealer or send

=10= stamps for trial can._ =H. O. WILBUR & SONS=, Philadelphia.

=FUN CARDS=, set of Scrap Pictures, 1 checker board, & large Sample

Book of Hidden Name Cards, & agents’ outfit, 2 c. Capital Card Co.,

Columbus, O.

=AN ELEGANT=

CHRISTMAS PRESENT,

=for $1.00.=

[Illustration: SANTA CLAUS

DISTRIBUTING WORLD’S EDUCATORS.]

For ten times the cost you cannot get anything that will please and

educate the children and yourself like

=THE WORLD’S EDUCATOR=;

OR

EDUCATIONAL TOY AND GAME.

A Perfect Treasure-Box.

FULL OF FUN.

FULL OF INSTRUCTION.

FULL OF SOLID AMUSEMENT.

=WIT! WISDOM! WONDER!=

For sale everywhere or sent prepaid by the manufacturers, on receipt of

$1.25. Send for full descriptive circulars. Agents wanted. Mention this

magazine.

=W. S. REED TOY CO.=,

=Leominster, Mass., U. S. A.=

_Pat. in U. S. and Gt. Britain._

For sale in Boston by

HORACE PARTRIDGE & CO., RICHARD SCHWARZ, HEYER BROS., PEABODY &

WHITNEY, and all other Toy Dealers.

=PICTURES TO PAINT.= Ten outline pictures, with directions for mixing

colors and for painting, sent to any address on receipt of =10c.= by S.

W. TILTON & CO., 29 Temple Place, Publishers, Boston.

[Illustration: WARREN’S FEATHERBONE]

=DRESS STAY.=

Soft, Pliable and _Absolutely unbreakable_. Standard Quality, =15=

cents per yard. Cloth covered, 20 cents. Satin covered, 25 cents. For

sale everywhere. Try it.

[Illustration: =ESTEY ORGAN=]

UNRIVALLED IN TONE.

ELEGANT IN FINISH.

REASONABLE IN PRICE.

_Fully Warranted. Ill’d Catalogue Free._

=ESTEY ORGAN CO.=,

BRATTLEBORO, - - - VERMONT.

159 Tremont St., Boston.

IF YOU WEAR =PANTS=

Send 6 cents for samples, rules for measurement, and other particulars

showing how we make

[Illustration: CUSTOM WORK 3.00 TO 8.00]

=The Celebrated=

=BAY STATE PANTS=

FOR $3.

Vests, $2.25, Coats, $8, and OVERCOATS, at popular prices.

[Illustration: SENT BY MAIL OR EXPRESS]

With our 20 years’ experience in this business we can furnish you

with the best goods in the latest styles. Satisfaction guaranteed.

Reference—American Express Co., Boston. _We want a trial order._

=BAY STATE PANTS CO., 30 Hawley St., Boston, Mass.=

=THE WORLD TYPE-WRITER makes a BEAUTIFUL HOLIDAY PRESENT.=

NO HOME Should be without One.

=No. 1 Japanned=, =$8.00=

In Pine Box.

=No. 2 Japanned=, =$10.00=

In Leather Box.

=No. 3 Full Nickelled=, =$15.00=

In Black Walnut case, Satin and

Plush Lined.

[Illustration]

Correspondence will be rendered pleasant by the use of this practical

and ornamental machine, while the young folks may improve their

knowledge by practicing on an instrument so simple and yet so strong

that no amount of hard usage will injure it.

Send for _Book_ and Circulars.

=GEORGE BECKER & CO., 30 Great Jones St., New York.=

THE LEGEND OF CEREALINE.

“And they called the women round them,

Called the young men and the maidens

To the harvest of the corn fields.”

[Illustration]

MERRY were the gladsome huskers,

For they knew the corn they gathered,

In the pleasant days of autumn

Would sustain their lives through winter.

So they sang a song together,

All the young men and the maidens,

Sang the praises of Mondamin

And his Grecian sister Ceres.

Thus they sang in measured chorus:

“Honor be to brown Mondamin;

Honor be to ancient Ceres;

Honor to the noble Red-man;

Honor to the wiser White-man

Who hath built in Indiana

Mighty mills to make the magic

Cerealine, the Flakes nutritious,

Food of foods, the precious essence

Of the life blood of Mondamin,

That shall give to every eater

Health, and strength to think and labor.

Haste the day when all the people

Shall enjoy at each day’s banquet,

Cerealine, the food ideal.”

* * * * *

=The series of twelve original pictures, illustrating

“Hiawatha’s Fasting,” of which the above is a small

example, will be mailed to any one who will mention

where this advertisement was seen and enclose a

two-cent stamp for postage to the Cerealine Mfg. Co.,

Columbus, Indiana.=

=“Cerealine Flakes” for sale by all grocers at twenty cents

a package.=

[Illustration: IVORY]

BUBBLE PARTIES.

ONE of the most amusing, as well as easily arranged entertainments

for the Holidays, is a “Bubble Party.” Twenty or more ladies and

gentlemen, enough clay pipes so each will have one, three or four bowls

of soap-suds, and, say, half a dozen trifles, for prizes, are all that

is required, the prizes to be awarded to those who blow the largest

bubbles, one of the party to act as referee.

The suds should be of IVORY SOAP, as it gives a clean, white, and

abundant lather, with an entire freedom from oil or grease; and as the

materials of which it is made are so clean and pure, it is not at all

offensive to the smell or taste, like ordinary soap.

A WORD OF WARNING.

There are many white soaps, each represented to be “just as good as the

‘Ivory’;” they ARE NOT, but like all counterfeits, lack the peculiar

and remarkable qualities of the genuine. Ask for “Ivory” Soap and

insist upon getting it.

Copyright 1886, by Procter & Gamble.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Ad on “Etching,” “addresss” changed to “address” (free to any address,

on)

Page 35, word “it” added to text (reason why it worked)

Page 53, “nncontrollable” changed to “uncontrollable” (an

uncontrollable appetite)

Pansy Corner and Pansy Advertiser:

Page 3, “lii” changed to “liii” (Is. liii: 10)

Page 6, “Thuogh” changed to “Though” (Though a thousand fall)

Page 7, “minntes” changed to “minutes” (the five minutes when)

Page 9, “A HESIVE” changed to “ADHESIVE” (STRONGEST ADHESIVE KNOWN)

Page 11, “diquisition” changed to “disquisition” (a disquisition by

philosophers)

Page 13, “vegntable” changed to “vegetable” (purely vegetable compound)

End of Project Gutenberg's The Pansy Magazine, Vol. 15, Dec. 1887, by Various