The Phoenicians were driven out of Asia Minor by the armies of other

nations, which, under different names, are mentioned in the Bible, and

perhaps among these were the Jews, in whose language the Bible has come

down to us. It is more than probable that the ambition of great nations

still farther to the eastward, drove the nearer nations of Syria upon the

Phoenicians, who held the sea coast. But there was another inducement.

The Phoenicians became very rich from their trading voyages; and also, I

fear, from their plundering and kidnapping of slaves, for the

Mediterranean was the haunt of buccaneers until the Romans frightened

pirates into some kind of peaceableness. Even in this century it was

necessary for the United States to send a fleet against the pirates that

sailed from ports in Northern Africa. The riches of the Phoenician towns

must have tempted the neighboring tribes to attack them. At any rate,

having already made many settlements elsewhere, the Phoenicians began to

give way more than a thousand years B. C., and to take refuge in their

old or new colonies. Some old Greek traditions tell how Kadmus, a mighty

leader and a very wise man in all the arts and sciences, came over from

Asia and taught the Boeotians letters. In Phoenician the word Kadmus

means the East-man, while the word Europe, which gradually was applied to

a vast extent of land, a continent, at first belonged only to the land

just across from the island of Euboea, on the other side of the narrow

strait called Euripus, and means, in Phoenician, the West-land. So when

you read of Kadmus coming to Europe it is the East-man coming to the

Westland. Over and over again in history we find names to which all sorts

of fanciful derivations have been given, and beautiful legends and myths

have been attached, turning out to be the simplest kind of words. Thus,

Ireland also means the Westland, and it comes from the Celtic word _iar_

and our word _land_; _iar_ meaning the West. _Iar_, before being used to

denote the West, meant the back, and that fact lets us into an important

secret concerning the religion of the Celts who first came over the Irish

sea to the Emerald Island. It tells us that those early men named the

points of the compass according to the other directions when the observer

faced toward the East. So the East was named from front, or forward, the

West from back or behind, the North from left hand, and the South from

right hand. That means that the early Celts worshiped the Dawn and the

Sunrise. And so faithfully have the old traditions remained in men's

minds in that big western island of the British Empire that, to this day,

the emblem on the coat of arms of Ireland is a sunburst, or rising sun.

Another curious thing is that it is more than probable that the Irish

preference of the color green, for their flag and their sashes, arose

from a mistake among those who had lost a thorough knowledge of the old

Irish language. The sun, in Irish, is called by a word pronounced like

our word "green"; and it is likely that the Irish fondness for that color

arose from the word's exact likeness in sound to their word for the sun.

In the same way, when we talk about greenhouses, we think they are called

so because the plants are kept green in them during winter. Yet it is far

more probable that "green," here, is the Irish word meaning, not the

color, but the sun; because greenhouses are built so as to catch the

sun's rays and store them up while it is hidden by clouds, as happens

more than half the time in showery Ireland.

But to return to Kadmus, the man, or the representation of the men, who

to the ancient Greeks seemed to come out of the East. There was in Greece

an ancient people whom men called the Pelasgi, or sea-people, because

they seemed to live on the sea, so easy and so much at home were they on

board their long black ships. Moreover, "sea-people" was a ready enough

name for those who dwelt so much on islands. This Pelasgian folk at one

time conquered the half of Egypt with their fleets, and with the aid of

other nations. Now, when in the course of centuries, the Greeks had

learned a great many things besides masonry and seacraft from the

Pelasgians, and letters and seamanship from the Phoenicians,--they too,

like the Syrian nations, began to push the people who had been their

teachers out of their islands and towns. Doubtless the Phoenicians were

very arrogant and imperious people, who fancied that their riches made

them the superiors of all poorer folk, and that justice only existed for

the rich. By that time they had made many flourishing settlements in

Italy, Spain, and Northern Africa, and they became famous for the last

time in their towns of Northern Africa, where they left numerous

different alphabets. Finally the Romans, jealous of their commerce and

wealth, managed to ruin their navies, defeat their armies, and sack and

destroy their cities, among which the greatest was Carthage, meaning, in

Phoenician, New Town. Some day, if you have not yet studied it, you can

learn in Roman history all about the Roman destruction of Carthage and

the time of the Punic wars. When those wars occurred, the Carthaginians

were making a last effort to remain masters of the western parts of what

are now called Europe and Africa, then the most western portion of the

civilized world.

ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.

XIV.--THE LEFT-FIELD OF THE

LINCOLN NINE.

BY C. F. H.

"Pay his fare in, please, Mister!"

The speaker was a ragged little urchin, with a bright, jolly face, who

stood at the entrance of a base-ball ground. By his side sat a great

black poodle. The dog looked up at me with such a solemn and woe-begone

expression that I laughed outright, whereupon the boy took courage and

repeated his request: "Pass him in, Mister; it's only a dime. We're under

age."

"Do you mean the dog?" I asked.

"Yes," was the reply. "He's a base-baller. He hasn't missed a game this

season; and," the boy continued earnestly, "I wouldn't have him miss one,

either. But, you see, Mother's rent's due to-day, so we've no extra

cash,--have we, Major?" And the big poodle wagged its tail and showed its

teeth in a broad dog-laugh.

It certainly was the most remarkable-looking poodle I had ever seen. It

was a pure black, with the back part of its body shaved to the skin

except where, on the top, the hair had been left in the shape of an

anchor. A tuft only was left at the end of the tail; the feet had

bracelets or anklets of hair, and as the dog's head and chest were not

clipped it looked like a lion from the front; but from the side it was

the most comical-looking object you can possibly imagine, while in

looking down upon it, the symbol of hope was always presented; and this

anchor, as I learned afterward, was emblematical of the Major's chief

characteristic.

"What're the chances, Mister?" asked his owner, after I had examined the

dog for a few moments.

"I think they are good," I replied. "But why do you wish him to go in?

Does he belong to either nine?"

"No, he doesn't," responded my new acquaintance; "but," confidentially,

"he's left-field in the 'Lincolns,' and if you knew how badly he'd feel

to miss this game, you'd pass him in."

"Can he play?" I inquired in an incredulous tone.

"Can he play?" the youngster retorted indignantly, adding, "Can you,

Major?" as he turned to the dog. The animal showed all its teeth, and

cast up its solemn eyes, saying "yes," as plainly as possible.

"You just come with me a minute, Mister," continued the small speaker;

and leading me around the corner, away from the crowd, he drew a

well-worn base-ball from a dilapidated pocket, and tossed it to me. "He

does best at a fly-catch," he remarked; "and when I say he's left-field

of our nine, it's as much as to say he isn't a muffer."

Curious to see what the dog would do, I tossed the ball at him, and it

landed fair in his capacious mouth, and was held there.

"That's not what he wants, Mister," said Major's young master. "Throw it

up high,--just as high as you can."

I drew back my arm and looked up; and on the instant Major had become

like another dog. His ears stood up, his eyes flashed, and the hairy

emblem of hope seemed to wriggle like a snake as he danced backward,

barking in loud, jubilant tones. This time I threw the ball as high as I

could. Up it went, so high, in fact, that I doubt if I could have caught

it myself, as it is some years since I severed my connection with a

base-ball nine. But the moment it left my hand, Major seemed to know

where it was going to fall; he watched it for a second, then ran back

about twenty feet, and as it turned in the air, he was directly under it.

Down it came, right over the dog, which stood with legs braced apart, and

tail wagging slowly; then a red mouth opened, a row of white teeth

glistened and----Major had caught the ball! A few seconds later he

delivered it to me, with a wag of his tail that said plainly, "You're

out, Mister."

So good a player certainly deserved to see the game, and we were soon

within the high fence. At once Major took up his stand behind the scorer,

and watched the game with the greatest gravity, occasionally, when a

heavy strike was made, running out, as if to see who caught it, and

uttering a single bark of satisfaction. Everybody seemed to know him, and

had a friendly pat or word for him; in fact, it was evident that the dog

was one of the base-ball fraternity.

When the game broke up, Major's master invited me to be present at a

match-game of the "Lincolns," on the ensuing Saturday. The rival nines

were made up of boys under thirteen, black and white, and Major. As I

reached the ground, it was his inning, and his master, who claimed the

privilege of striking for him, was at the bat. The dog was right behind

with one paw in advance, and his eyes on the striker. In came the

twisters, and Major made several false starts; but, finally, as the ball

went scudding from the bat, off he rushed for first base, his ears

flapping, his plumelike tail out straight behind. But the short-stop was

too nimble for the dog, and just before he reached the base, the ball

arrived there, and he came slowly back, his tail hanging low, and a very

mournful expression in his great eyes.

"Maje's out,--side out!" cried the boys, and immediately conceiving a

method by which he could retrieve this disaster, the dog seemed to regain

his spirits, dashed into the field, and was speedily in his position as

left-fielder, before any of the others had reached their places.

[Illustration: THE CURIOUSLY CLIPPED DOG MAKES A GOOD LEFT-FIELDER IN THE

BASE-BALL NINE.]

In the preliminary "pass around" that preceded the play, Major was not

left out, and I saw that the balls that were thrown at him directly were

quite as swift as those delivered from base to base; and in justice to

him, I never saw him "muff." When a ball was thrown at him, he settled

back, and dropped his great lower jaw, into which the projectile seemed

to fit; then, with tail wagging, he would hasten to carry the ball to the

next player. He was equally proficient with low balls, either catching

them in his mouth or stopping them with his broad chest, and in fielding

he could not be outdone. When he caught a ball, he carried it at full

speed to the nearest thrower, and not a few players were put out by his

quick motions and activity.

But perhaps the strangest part of it all was the delight and pleasure

that Major took in the game. He showed it in every motion, speaking with

his tail as well as his eyes and mouth, and I doubt if any of the boys

had a greater interest in the sport.

Major's accomplishments were not confined to base-ball playing. He could

perform numerous tricks, and understood, or pretended to understand,

everything that was said; and if the gentleman in London who is so

industriously endeavoring to teach dogs to talk, could only borrow Major,

he might achieve success.

Major would take a ten-cent piece to the baker, and bring home a loaf of

bread, and no such tricks as giving him the wrong change or a bogus loaf

could be successfully played upon him by the neighbors. I was told that

one day when given a counterfeit quarter, Major gravely bit it, smiled a

contemptuous smile, and wagged his head in disapproval; but this I will

not vouch for. He did so many wonderful things, however, that one would

hardly be surprised at any feat attributed to him.

"How came you to clip him in such a fashion?" I asked of his master.

"Because he's so hopeful," answered my new acquaintance. "When we first

came to town we were very, very poor. We're not so very rich now," he

added, confidentially; "but in those times we had only a dollar or two at

a time, for all of us, and Mother used to sit and cry, and you'd have

thought there wasn't any hope for us. But Major was never discouraged.

Whenever Mother began to cry, he'd walk up to her, and laugh, and show

his teeth, and then she'd almost always look up and put her arms around

his neck and say, 'Maje, your'e tryin' to cheer us up; you're doing your

best; I know you are;" and it seemed to make us all hopeful-like. And

_he_ hadn't anything to be cheerful for, either. One day we were at our

worst; there wasn't anything in the house; and cold! You wouldn't believe

how cold it was, Mister! Maje had run out, and Mother was in the big

chair, and I was ready to cry, because she looked so solemn; when there

came a scratchin' at the door--and what d'ye s'pose? I pulled it open,

and there was Maje with a basket in his mouth and a bundle tied on his

back, and I never saw him more cheerful and hopeful in my life. Well,

Mother broke out cryin', just at the time she ought to ha' been laughin',

and she put her arms 'round Maje's neck. There was meat and cake and ever

so much more in the basket, and it kept us from starvin'.

"Where did he get them? Why, that's the cur'ous part of it. We never

could find it out from Maje; but there was a paper in the basket sayin':

'From a Friend.' But how Maje came to be acquainted with him just at that

time, I don't see--do you, Mister?"

* * * * *

It often happens that dogs of no special breed, poor outcasts of the

canine family, show the most remarkable characteristics.

A fire company in New York had for years a dog that was as faithful in

its duties as any of the men, and on several occasions it called the

attention of patrolmen to places where fires were smoldering. A certain

drayman in the same city had a dog that spent its time upon the horse's

back, and seemed to delight in exhibiting its equestrian skill. I have

often seen the dray going down Broadway, the dog on the horse's back but

keeping his place with difficulty when the horse moved rapidly.

XV.--A DOG THAT COULD CLIMB TREES.

BY C. F. H.

A friend of mine who lived in the Sierra Madre Mountains had a collie

that was an inveterate tree-climber, and woe to the squirrel that climbed

up a trunk that Jack could scale. Of course straight trees were out of

the question; but one that grew at an angle of forty-five degrees, and

had a rough bark, was quickly mounted by the collie.

[Illustration]

This curious habit was the result of his passion for squirrel-hunting,

and the moment one of those little animals would dart up a favorable

tree, Jack was after it, scrambling up so high that he was often found by

his master thirty or forty feet from the ground, barking fiercely at the

squirrel, which had sought refuge on a limb beyond the reach of the dog.

In returning, Jack would settle close to the tree-trunk, and back down,

inch by inch, exercising great precaution, well knowing that with his

short claws he was at a disadvantage. When within a few feet of the

bottom he would slide and scramble to the ground.

XVI.--A SOCIABLE, SENSIBLE DOG.

BY E. P. ROE.

I once knew a dog, and he had earned his good name honestly. He was so

genuine a sea-dog that he had been named Surf, and there was not a better

sailor on the Maine island where he lived. Surf knew nearly all the

islanders, and they knew him. Whenever he met any of them, he wagged his

tail genially. It was his mode of saying good morning, or how-d'ye-do;

and the people would always return his friendly greeting. There's an old

saying, that "It's better to have the good-will than the ill-will of a

dog." There were a few boys whom Surf snarled at, and you may rest

assured that they were very rough, mean boys. The best young fellows

thought Surf a fine comrade, with whom they could enjoy a romp almost as

well as if he were a schoolmate. If his master or any of the family were

going out in a boat, Surf was the first on board; and taking his place in

the extreme bow, he saluted every one within hailing distance. No matter

how hard it blew, or how blinding the spray, he maintained his place,

vigilant and fearless. Thus he came to be the best-known and most popular

dog on the island. Everybody had a smile for him; everybody had a good

word for him. Many boys who go to school and can read and write are not

so true and kind as was Surf.

So abounding in good nature was Surf that he made friends even of the

people who passed by the island, and many passed every day. The channel

followed by steamers was not far distant from the point on which his

master, Mr. Andrews, lived. When a boat was nearly opposite this point

Surf went down to the water's edge and barked, not in a spiteful,

malicious way, but in cheery tones, as if calling out "How are you, old

fellow!" The spirit in which anything is done is soon known, and the

pilots of the steamboats began to answer his barking with the steam

whistle. At this, Surf would wag his tail as if the proper courtesies had

been exchanged, and return quietly to the house. So it came about that

captains and crews and not a few of the passengers expected a salutation

from Surf, whenever the boat neared the point.

Surf was not spoiled, however, by his popularity. He put on no airs

whatever, and was just as ready to play with little Bob Andrews, and

follow him about, as he was to "pass the time of day," after his fashion,

with the captain of a steamer, or the richest man on the island. Bob was

a reckless little mortal, and Surf appeared to have the impression that

the boy needed looking after. Like many people who live by the sea, the

Andrews family had the feeling that they could never be drowned, and no

one was more venturesome than Bob in clambering over the rocks about the

ocean's edge.

One day, however, he ventured too far and too carelessly, for he fell

with a splash into deep water. The little fellow could not swim, and his

bubbling cry for help could scarcely have been heard on the rock from

which he fell, so loud was the noise of the dashing waves. Surf's tail

became rigid with the stress of the emergency; then over the rock he went

after his playmate. Seizing the boy by the coat-collar, he swam around

the rock to a gravelly beach, and soon had him high, but not dry, on the

shore. Indeed, the little fellow had taken so much water inside as well

as out that he lay helpless and insensible, though beyond the breaking

waves.

[Illustration: SURF PULLED OFF THE BOY'S CAP AND RAN WITH IT AT FULL

SPEED TO THE HOUSE.]

For a moment, Surf was puzzled. He knew his task was not finished; but

what should he do next? A bright thought struck him. The day was windy,

and the boy had pulled his little cap down over his ears so tightly that

the waves had not washed it off. But Surf pulled it off with his teeth

and ran at full speed with it to the house. The family was just gathering

around the dinner-table when the great, wet dog bounded in and laid the

well known cap on Mr. Andrews' chair.

"Merciful Heaven!" cried the father, seizing the cap and rushing out,

followed by his wife and all the family.

Surf led the way, whining in a low tone, to where Bob lay, pale indeed,

but already showing signs of life. Fortunately, Mr. Andrews was an

intelligent man and knew just what to do. And so, within an hour, Bob was

in his high chair at the table with the rest. But he shared his dinner,

that day, with the brave dog that had saved his life.

Surf entered so heartily into the family rejoicing, and was so elated at

the praise he received, that there seemed to be some danger that he would

wag his tail off before the day ended.

Yet, even after this heroic act, Surf never so much as hinted by his

manner, "See what a good dog I am!"

XVII.

A DOG WHOSE FEELINGS WERE HURT.

BY E. P. ROE.

Carlo felt himself to be one of the family. From his puppyhood days, he

had been treated with great kindness and allowed to come into the house

under certain restrictions. He also had accorded to the different members

of the household various marks of his favor, according to his estimate of

their deserts; but for his mistress and her sister he had unbounded

affection. Whenever they walked abroad, he was their self-appointed

guardian, and never had ladies a more attentive and gallant escort. Not

only did he respond gratefully to any favor or notice that he received,

but he was also ready to prove himself no carpet-knight should danger

threaten the ladies.

Now Carlo felt that he was not a mere watch or churning dog--an animal

kept for a purpose. By ties of long association and deep affection, he

was one of the family. That he had his three meals daily did not suffice;

he observed all that was going on, and noted any change that occurred.

The absence of his mistress and her sister quite depressed his spirits,

and when they returned his joy was great indeed.

They had been away, and they returned one summer evening. As they were

greeting the members of the household, Carlo heard their voices, and came

bounding in, intent on the most frisky, hearty and demonstrative of

welcomes. At that critical moment, however, a flea on his back gave him a

most venomous, distracting bite, and, half frantic from pain, Carlo

turned his head so suddenly to return the bite, that he tumbled down on

his nose and rolled over, cutting so awkward and ridiculous a figure that

every one burst out laughing.

Carlo rose, and having given his mistress a look of reproach, walked with

great dignity out of the room. And many were the apologies that had to be

made before his wounded feelings were soothed and the old cordial

relations resumed.

XVIII.--A DOG THAT REPAID A TRICK.

A gentleman in Bristol, England, owned a dog remarkable both for

intelligence and devotion. The dog had been taught to run errands. It was

a part of his daily duty to go to the meat-market, carrying a basket in

which was the money to pay for the meat. One day his master thought he

would put a new test to the dog's faithfulness and intelligence. He

ordered the man who kept the market to take the money as usual, but to

refuse the meat and order the dog to go home without it. This the

market-man did, and the poor dog returned to the house dejected,

melancholy, slow, with ears and tail hanging, and with the basket empty.

Seeing his master, he seemed to try to put on an air of cheerfulness,

evidently hoping that the situation would be understood. But, no; the

master frowned upon him, scolded him harshly, and bade him go out of his

sight. This was almost more than the poor fellow could bear, and sneaking

out he crept under a table in an outer shed, where he lay for two days to

all appearances in a state of gloomy despair. On the third day, his

master called him out, speaking kindly to him again, and the dog was wild

with joy. Again his master sent him to the market with the money in his

basket. The dog went in, but this time he placed the money on the floor

and put his paw on it, before he allowed the market-man to take the

basket. When the man gave him the meat, the dog quickly whisked the money

back into the basket and trotted off home with both meat and money,

giving them to his master with an air of decided triumph.

XIX.--MEPHISTOPHELES.

BY ANNA GARDNER.

In that beautiful suburb of Philadelphia known as Germantown, lived a

beautiful little gray Skye terrier with a very long

name,--Mephistopheles. He was called Meph, for short; and a remarkably

intelligent dog he was.

At one time Meph's master, who is a well known physician of Germantown,

was ill. In the middle of the night, the dog bounded to the side of the

bed, and laying its paw upon the arm of its master endeavored to awaken

him. Having succeeded, it tried in various ways to attract his attention

to the opposite side of the room; repeatedly leaving the bed and

returning.

Unwilling to be disturbed, the invalid remained some time without

noticing his little pet. But the animal became so importunate that the

doctor could no longer remain impassive. He arose, and, following the dog

to the bay-window on the other side of the room, he found, to his

astonishment, that a goldfish had leaped out of the aquarium, and was

panting almost lifeless on the carpet.

Meph evinced much joy when his master restored the fish to its watery

home; and the doctor fondly caressed Meph, who quietly returned to his

cushion bed, seeming perfectly satisfied with having performed his

mission and saved the life of the fish.

He must have evolved the idea that all was not right--that the fish was

"out of its sphere."

This dog met an untimely death through the cruelty of a man, who, on

account of some trivial annoyance, put an end to poor Meph's career. The

man might have learned a lesson of kindness from the little creature he

wantonly murdered.

A RECIPE.

BY M. A. L.

[Illustration]

'Pothecary, 'pothecary, living in the rose,

Tell us how to make the scent that everybody knows.

"A penny's worth of nectar; a dozen drops of dew;

A little compound sunshine that's slowly filtered through;

A sun-glass made of diamond, and then--the mixing done--

Set out a little flask of it to simmer in the sun."

'Pothecary, 'pothecary, is there nothing more?

"Yes, it taketh industry to make the summer's store.

So, my lad and lady, run off now and play;--

This, like every day in June, is my busy day."

RIDDLES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLKS.

Who knows what a riddle is? A riddle is something to be guessed. Well,

here is a riddle in a picture, all about pretty painted bridges.

[Illustration:

Pretty painted bridges,

Baby cannot get 'em.

Never mind the shower,

Water cannot wet 'em.]

Who can guess it? The bridges are not real bridges, and they are not

really painted,--yet every summer we see them. Now, what kind of bridges

are they? Nobody over seven years of age need try to guess these riddles.

* * * * *

Now you shall have another riddle,--this time about sheep, but they are

not the real sheep shown in the picture. On almost any sunny day you can

see the kind of sheep that this riddle means. Many of these riddle sheep

are white as snow, and they keep moving, moving, when the wind blows. Did

you ever see them? Perhaps if you look out of your window now you may see

some of the same sort. But it must be at noon time, or in the morning

when the sky is blue, or when you wake up in the night and see the moon

softly stealing in and out among them. Do not look for them when it is

time for little folk to say "good-night!" Then these sheep sometimes

change into bright red and yellow banners stretching across the sky and

floating over the place where the sun is going to sleep.

[Illustration:

White sheep, white sheep,

On a blue hill.

When the wind stops

You all stand still.

When the wind blows

You walk away slow.

White sheep, white sheep,

Where do you go?]

* * * * *

And now comes the very last riddle,--about Dormio Hill. What can the

white ground of Dormio Hill be? It is in the land of Nod, and if you wish

to find it, I do believe the Sand-man can take you to the very spot.

And who is the Sand-man? Ah, that is another riddle which Mamma can

answer for you.

[Illustration:

On Dormio Hill the ground is white

And nobody's there except at night

To Dormio Hill mamma will go

And carry the baby whether or no.]

[Illustration]

JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

We will open the meeting this month, my hearers, with "A Bumble Grumble"

sent to you by my friend Harold W. Raymond.

A bumble-bee sat on the wild-rose tree,

And grumbled because he was big and fat;

"Just look at yon butterfly light," quoth he,

"I wish I were airy and graceful like that!

O ho!

I know

'Tis hard to be heavy, and huge, and slow!"

A mischievous boy the butterfly caught,

And in his rough grasp it fluttered and died.

Sir Bumble his dagger drew out, and thought

That his end had come; but he boldly cried:

"Come on!

My son;

This stinger and I weigh nearly a ton."

"You'll have to excuse me, sir," said the lad,

"I know the weight of your little barbed spear.

Were your logic less pungent I'd be most glad

To meet you in conflict and vanquish you here.

Good-day!

I'll say;

For I fear 'twould unhealthy prove to stay."

The bumble-bee laughed a stitch in his side

When he saw the youngster in full retreat;

Then he stretched himself in a new-born pride

And threw out his chest with martial conceit.

"Dear me!"

Said the bee,

"'Tis easy to see

An ounce of sting

Is better than yards of butterfly-wing."

And now you shall have a story that isn't in verse, though there's poetry

in it. "Turn about is fair play," and this will interest you in the

butterflies.

PRETTY DUSTY WINGS.

DEAR JACK: Please let me tell you this true story:

Dusty Wings is the name of a charming little pet of mine; and he is so

curious a thing to have for a pet, that if it were not for his name, I

don't believe you could ever guess what he is.

One day in the early part of November, as I sat by the window, I noticed

lying on the piazza a beautiful butterfly, with his gorgeous wings

outspread. He was apparently stunned by the cold, as he did not attempt

to fly away when I went to pick him up. I brought him into the warm room,

when he soon became very lively.

His body is dark brown, covered with fine hairs, which look like

feathers when put under a magnifying glass. The wings show all the colors

of the rainbow, arranged in the most artistic manner. The wings

themselves are transparent, like those of a fly, and the color is given

to them by fine scales, which come off very easily. The _antennae_ which

grow from each side of the head are black and white.

Although you all have probably seen many butterflies as beautiful as my

pet, I don't believe you ever watched one eat, and that is a very

interesting process. Dusty Wings alights on my finger and clings to it as

if he really loved me. I then put a drop of sugar in front of him.

Immediately a long trunk (it is hollow, like an elephant's) unwinds and

feels about until it finds the liquid, which gradually disappears; and

then Mr. Dusty Wings slowly coils his trunk around and stows it away in a

vertical opening in the center of his head. The trunk is so delicate that

when it is coiled up, it looks like a fine watch-spring. If he has not

had enough, he lets me know by waving this trunk in the air. The first

time I fed him, he seemed shy and only ate very little; now he is not at

all afraid.

I made him a house with plenty of air-holes, and there he stays most of

the time on a warm corner of the mantel. I do not like to let him out

very often to fly about, as I am afraid he might be stepped on. If I wear

a flower he will crawl up my dress until he comes to it, and there he

will stay, showing that he has not forgotten his old life.

Yours sincerely,

ADA C. ASHFIELD.

TREES THAT RAIN.

MEMPHIS, TENN., January 10, 1886.

DEAR JACK: I thought some of your readers might be able to answer my

question.

There had been no rain here for about three weeks; it was in the fall,

and our school went to see a tree that had been raining for two or three

days; this tree was a sycamore. I saw two more trees that rained. One was

a box-elder, and the other an elm. The elm was in the woods. The drops

tasted like water, and dried up as quickly.

Can any one explain this to me?

Your constant reader,

JULIA S.

All look out, my friends, for raining trees, and report the results of

your observations. I've seen no such instance in my meadow as the one

Julia describes. But you all may go searching the groves and the books,

and see what you can discover.

SHOOTING STARS.

NEW YORK, March 1, 1886.

DEAR JACK: I frequently have read of shooting stars, but never of

anything like this that I saw. About four summers ago, I was staying at a

village on Long Island. One evening as I was about to go into the house,

I glanced up at the heavens. Myriads of stars were shining brightly, but

no moon. As I was looking directly overhead, there was a sudden, intense

light, and a star burst into fragments. The pieces slid a short distance

and then disappeared, as all shooting stars do. The utter noiselessness

of the whole occurrence made it even more impressive and startling. Will

you please ask your readers whether they ever have seen such a thing or

read of anything like it?

Yours respectfully,

SUSAN A.

COASTING IN AUGUST.

GARDINER, MAINE.

DEAR JACK: I meant to have written to you before, telling how we boys

coast in August, as I was reminded of it by reading the story about

coasting down the grass-covered hills, in ST. NICHOLAS for August, 1885.

Along the Kennebec river are many huge ice-houses. The ice is sent away

in big ships in summer. It is raised high in the air and swung on a

sloping plank which reaches to the ship's deck. Block after block is

dispatched in this way very quickly. We boys used to get pieces of old

carpeting and put on the ice. Then each boy would seat himself on a

carpet-covered block of ice, and, in something less than a wink, we would

find ourselves on the ship. We did this, the boys and I, till our mothers

found it out. _Then we stopped._

Your constant reader,

JOHN W.

MORE ABOUT TURTLES.

DEAR JACK: I saw some letters about turtles in your department, and so I

thought I would write to you about something I noticed. I have a small

turtle, and I have seen that the shell scales off in little pieces just

the shape of the divisions on its back. It shuts its eyes by raising the

lower lid. Has any one else noticed the first peculiarity?

Your reader,

W. I. L.

A FISH THAT WEAVES ITS NEST.

MR. C. F. HOLDER, I hear, is to tell you in the June ST. NICHOLAS about

some fishes and their young, so this is a good time to show you this

letter from my friend Ernest Ingersoll, concerning a fish that weaves its

nest.

DEAR JACK: Among the small fishes that inhabit the streams and ditches

along the Atlantic coast of the Northern States, is the four-spined

stickleback. Like the rest of the sticklebacks, this species makes a nest

in which the eggs are deposited. The male fish makes the nest himself and

defends it with great spirit. It is about half an inch high and

three-eighths of an inch in thickness. It is composed of stalks of

water-weeds and small stuff of that kind, bound together by a glutinous

thread which the fish spins out from a gland in his body, and which is

wound round and round the nest to bind it together. It frequently

happens, however, that in poking apart the straws with his nose this

living bobbin will pass his body through the nest and back again, thus

weaving the thread he reels out into the substance of the nest and sewing

it tightly together.

Yours truly,

ERNEST INGERSOLL.

A CLEVER HUMMING-BIRD.

You all remember, I am sure, "Robin's Umbrella," which was described and

shown to you from this pulpit two months ago. Now I'll tell you about the

way in which a clever humming-bird shielded her little ones from the

rain. There they were, a nestful, and the rain beginning to fall. The

people who had watched the nest out of their window were concerned about

the young birds, but the mother-bird evidently was prepared for the

emergency. Near the nest grew a large leaf,--it was a butternut

tree,--and on one side of the nest a small twig stuck out. When the drops

began to fall, she came quickly, and with many tugs pulled the leaf over

the little nest, for a roof, and hooked it by the twig on the other side,

which held it firmly.

Thus the half-feathered babies were kept as dry under their green roof as

if their house had been built by a carpenter, like the sparrow-houses all

around on the trees.

When the rain was over, the mother came back and unhooked the leaf.

[Illustration]

EDITORIAL NOTES.

Contributors are respectfully informed that, between the 1st of June and

the 15th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently be examined at

the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the

magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until

after the last-named date.

The Audubon Society, of which Jack-in-the-Pulpit informed our readers

last month, takes its name from that of the great naturalist J. J.

Audubon. It has been established for the purpose of fostering an interest

in the protection of wild birds from destruction for millinery and other

commercial purposes. The head-quarters of the society are at 40 Park Row,

New York City. It invites the cooeperation of young folk in every part of

the country.

All of our readers who are interested in the handiwork of children, will

remember Mr. Charles G. Leland's valuable papers concerning Brass-Work

and Leather-Work for young folk, published in this magazine, and will be

glad to know that ST. NICHOLAS intends to print, before the close of the

summer, an illustrated account of the Children's Industrial Exhibition

held in New York City last April.

THE LETTER-BOX.

We have the pleasure of beginning the Letter-Box this month with five

letters from the other side of the world. First of all, comes one sent

from Clermont, France, by "Georgine and Sybille," whose letter is very

charming and welcome even though they _may_ not "yet write well English."

CLERMONT, FRANCE.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: If this will reach you but we don't know your addres.

We have been having very pleasure to read you. We understant it better

than much books in English. We think little Lord Fauntleroy very fine. If

we tell you a fine tale you will print it? A fine dog lives in the

village named Turc, he had hunger so he went to the chalet and pulled the

cord with his patte, and when the domestique came she gave him to eat,

and Turc goes all the days now and is given to eat. do you not think Turc

is very clever? We are very sorry to terminate our letter, but we are

fearful it be too long. You will give us very joy to print this. Mamma

says we do not yet write well English.

GEORGINE AND SYBILLE.

BOITSFORT, BELGIUM.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I receive your paper every month since November, when

mother took it for a birthday present to me. I see that many children

write to you. Perhaps you will publish my letter because it comes from a

little Belgian girl. We live in a pretty place called Boitsfort, quite

near Brussels, and quite near the Foret de Seignes, where we take

pleasant rides, I on my pony, my brother and sister on the two donkeys.

My brother Louis is nine, my sister Tata is six, and I am eleven. My

cousin Helen, who is nineteen, traveled all over America last year with

her father, and likes very much your country and the ways of the people

there. She brought several papers for children, and we decided that ST.

NICHOLAS was the best; that's why mother gave it me. I hope I too will go

once to the United States. Believe me, dear ST. NICHOLAS, yours

sincerely,

ALICE SOLVAY.

SAN REMO, ITALY.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Some of your readers might like to know what an

Italian peasant's house is like. On the ground floor the donkey lives, on

the second and third floors the people live, and on the roof the chickens

live.

If you wish to go and see them, you have to go up some narrow stairs

that are very dark, but when you come out on the roof there is the most

beautiful view of the quaint old town, with its red roofs, and the sky

and sea. We went to walk to-day, and found violets, blue hyacinths, and

daisies growing wild under the olive-trees.

I get my ST. NICHOLAS from London, but I am a little American girl from

Cleveland, Ohio.

Your loving reader,

LILY MAY Z.

POLAND.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live at Warsaw in the winter. I am ten years old. I

have nine dolls and a King Charles dog, named Beauty, and she has a great

antipathy to music. I am Polish, and have been learning English for two

years. Mamma takes you for me, and I like your stories much.

I hope this letter is not too long to print.

INA KOMAR.

PRINKIPO, SEA OF MARMORA, TURKEY.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I must tell you something about my life in Turkey. I

am an English girl, about thirteen years of age. I have been living in

Turkey for twelve years. In the summer we go to the country, to the

Island of Prinkipo, in the Sea of Marmora. It is very small and pretty.

We have great fun there in the summer. We go out sailing and rowing.

There are a great many donkeys at Prinkipo; we often go out for rides on

them. We generally go around the island, so you can imagine how small it

is. It takes about one hour to ride around it on donkeys, and about one

hour and a half to go around it on foot.

The people here are mostly Greeks. Of course there are some Turks and

Armenians. At the back of the island there are the ruins of the monastery

of the Greek Empress Irene, who lived a long time ago.

I will tell you a little story about the dogs of this place. In

Constantinople and the villages near it, there are a great number of

dogs. All these dogs have their own quarters, and quarrel very much with

those of other quarters. At San Stephano, about two years ago, some

wolves came down from the mountains, and then all these dogs united and

chased the wolves right back to the mountains. And then they went home to

their quarrels again. What I mean is, that although they had their

differences amongst themselves, they were ready to join together against

the wolves. I hope my letter will be good enough to interest the other

little girls who write to you, and who have never lived in Turkey.

Your interested reader,

MURIEL P.

BROOKLYN.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you about our performance of

your comedy for children, "Dicky Dot and Dotty Dick." We got it up in our

Cozy Club. I was stage manager. I am ten years old. My sister Christine

was Dotty. She is six. A little boy named Sidney was Dicky. He is six and

a half. They both knew their parts perfectly, and did so well that

everybody said it was too cute for anything, and I felt very much

pleased. We all love ST. NICHOLAS.

GERALDINE.

KANSAS CITY, MO.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I was wishing for you before Christmas,

because all the girls at school say you are so interesting. I never

had a hope of getting you. But what do you think! On Christmas,

to my great surprise, among my presents was a ST. NICHOLAS.

I jumped around with glee. I sat down, left all my other presents,

and commenced reading you. I am eleven years old. I think the

covering of you very pretty. The picture in front is "Apollo, the

god of the sun." I am very fond of mythology. Mamma is going to

have my ST. NICHOLAS bound when this year is out, and I am going

to take you next year. Hoping this letter will be printed, I remain,

your devoted reader,

ETTA K.

PALISADES.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in the country, very high up on the Hudson

River Palisades. The woods are all about us, and my nurse takes me to the

edge of the great cliffs to look down on the shining river, and see the

steamers and the lovely white sails far over on Long Island Sound.

We have a baby colt in the pasture with his mamma, whose name is Aniline,

because her glossy coat shines in bright tints when the sun strikes it.

The colt follows us about like a large dog. Papa has taught him not to be

afraid.

At night when it grows dark, and I am undressed for bed, we hear Owen

calling the cows, "Here, Dolly! Dolly! Here, Jenny! Jenny! Jenny!"

Then he sits down to milk them, and the three cats all gather around him,

watching and waiting for a sip.

The katydids sing a great deal up here, and this is what Mamma has sung

to me at bed-time, and you will guess from it, dear ST. NICHOLAS, what my

name is:

Out-of-doors the air is full

Of voices small;

List to what they're talking of,

So busy all:

"Did little Katy do to-day

As she was bid?"

Something hastens to reply,

"Katy did!"

Katy didn't! Katy did;

She did! she did! she did!

Who this morn played in the hay?

Katy did!

Who pulled pussy's tail to-day?

Katy did!

Did she eat all Grandma's cakes?

Katy didn't! Yes, she did!

Did she sometimes make mistakes?

Katy did, she did!

Did she sup on milk and bread?

Katy did;

Did she run away to bed?

Katy did;

Said her prayers at Mamma's knee!

Katy did! Katy did!

And fell asleep! ah, dreary me!

Katy did, she did!

Katy didn't! Katy did!

She did! she did! she did!

FULTON, ILLINOIS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have been taking you ever since you first started,

and I can never tell you how we all love and admire every feature you

possess.

I have two brothers and two sisters. My youngest brother is only seven,

so you see we will have to take you several years yet.

Papa and Mamma read you almost as much as they read their grown-up

magazines.

I live on a farm in the western part of Whiteside County, Illinois,

about four miles from the Mississippi. We think it is a beautiful country

here with the bluffs, trees, and farming lands on the bottoms. Our

picture gallery is all outdoors. From your faithful reader,

D. E. H.

WOODMONT, CONN.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My Uncle gave you to me for my birthday present, and I

like your pages very much; and I have two other friends that like you

very much. I like the story named "Oh, Dear!" very much, and my sister

liked the story "Davy and the Goblin." We have a very cunning cat, and we

call it Blaine. I hope my letter will be printed, as it is the first one

I ever wrote, and I am anxious to see it in the magazine.

Your little reader,

AVIS N.

HINGHAM, MASS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have written several letters before, but none of

them have been printed; but I hope that this one will be. I have a very

nice time here in summer. My home is within forty feet of the water. I

have a boat, and can row, swim, dive or fish. I am just learning to ride

on horseback. In the winter I live in Boston, and I have a governess to

teach me algebra, English history, physiology, and the common branches,

and I study French and Latin at Mrs. Newhall's. I have taken you for five

years.

ELAINA T.

HARTFORD, CONN.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In one of your nice magazines last summer, you gave an

account of how to make a string house. I thought it would be very nice to

make one; so my sister and I tried it. We made it exactly according to

the directions; it took us three whole days. We enjoyed reading and

playing in it very much. We made a kind of porch in front, so as not to

make it look so much like a tent.

We have been taking you ever since 1880, and we like you better than any

other book. I think your best stories are, "Little Lord Fauntleroy," and

"From Bach to Wagner."

Hoping you will print my letter, for my sister would not write--(she said

you would not print it, but I hope to show her that you will) I remain,

Your devoted reader,

N. C.

NEW YORK.

DEAR "ST. NICK" (as you are nick-named among us): I have taken you ever

since I was a very "small girl," and now, I am sorry to say, I am a very

large one of eighteen. I am told that I ought to abandon dear old "ST.

NICK" for some "grown-up magazine," and I feel that it is indeed sad to

grow old if giving up ST. NICHOLAS is one of the penalties, which I shall

take care that it shall not be. I have just fallen in love with "Little

Lord Fauntleroy," and I wish the "small boy" of the present day would

copy after him, but I fear that would be too "pretty a state of things."

I am afraid to keep on lest I lose the opportunity of seeing myself in

print and of boring the readers of the Letter-box; so I shall close to

avoid such a calamity.

Faithfully yours,

YUM YUM.

NEW ORLEANS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am one of your constant readers, having taken ST.

NICHOLAS from the first number, and I do not think that a more

interesting magazine for boys and girls can be found. I live in the

quaint old Creole City of Nouvelle Orleans, as the Creoles call it. I was

born here, and I expect to live here all my life. I do not think that you

have any correspondents from New Orleans, at least I have seen none in

the Letter-box, so I take the liberty of writing to you. I tell you, dear

old ST. NICK, it would do you good to come and see our Carnival here in

March; many children are dominoed and masked in fearful and fantastic

costumes. Rex, King of the Carnival, enters in grand procession the day

before Mardi-Gras, usually coming up the river on a steamboat, gayly

decked in bunting. All the military turn out to escort him to the Royal

Palace. The artillery battalions salute him on the levee, and then he

parades through all the principal streets. Generally there are three

night processions--those of Momus, Comus, and Proteus--and they are

gorgeous beyond description, and there is one day procession--that of

Rex--which is also magnificent; there are also a great many Burlesque

organizations--I. O. O. M. (Independent Order of the Moon), and the

Phunny Phorty Phellows are the principal ones, I hope you will publish

this, as I think it will interest the boy and girl readers of ST.

NICHOLAS; it is my first letter. I forgot to say that King Rex also

parades the day after his arrival.

Your loving reader,

WILLIAM S. P.

NEWPORT, R. I.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have often wanted to write to you before, to tell

you how much I like your stories. In the July number of 1885, there was a

story in which the training-ship "New Hampshire" was mentioned. I liked

the story very much, because I can see the "New Hampshire" from my

window.

I am deeply interested in "Little Lord Fauntleroy," and I liked Miss

Alcott's Spinning-wheel Stories very much. I hope to see my letter in

print.

Your constant reader,

MAMIE S. W

COLORADO.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live on a ranch in Colorado and I look forward every

month with great pleasure for the ST. NICHOLAS. I am going to tell you

about a donkey we had once; we hitched him in a sled and tried to make

him go, but he would not stir from home; after a little while we

succeeded, and when we turned around he went like the wind, so that we

could hardly hold him. The same afternoon he ran into a post and broke

the sled to pieces.

We have coyotes here, and they kill our sheep. One day I saw the herd

running as fast as they could, and what do you think was after them? A

horrid coyote, which was so thin that it looked as if it was going to die

from hunger. The coyote is not a brave animal; it will sneak around and

kill sheep, but it will never fight dogs. This is the first letter I have

ever written to a magazine. Good-bye, dear ST. NICHOLAS. I am, ever your

friend,

IDA R. F.

P. S.--I am eleven years old, and live eleven miles from a school. I have

gained my education from reading ST. NICHOLAS, and studying at home.

BUFFALO, N. Y.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In your February issue, there was a communication

concerning "curve-pitching," and a diagram was used to explain why a ball

curves in a certain direction.

I beg leave to call attention to what I believe to be a mistake in the

explanation. The writer says that the curve must be "toward the retarded

side." I think it must be _from_ the retarded side; for, the ball while

advancing is also revolving in a horizontal plane,--we will say from

right to left.

In its rapid flight, the ball condenses the air in front and tends to

form a vacuum behind, and the condensed air in front attempts to flow

around the sides of the ball to fill the vacuum behind.

Now, in the diagram mentioned, the side B, the rotation of which

conspires _with_ the motion of translation, resists, by friction, the

attempt of the air to flow back; while the side D, in which the motion of

rotation is opposite to the motion of translation, offers no resistance

to the air in flowing around its side. For that reason the ball meets

with most resistance in front of B, and least in front of D. Hence,

taking the direction of least resistance, it curves toward D or _from_

the side of most resistance.

Very respectfully,

ELMER STORR.

"THE FRANKLIN," WASHINGTON, D. C.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought I would write and tell you how happy you

have made me this winter. I am a little Washington girl, only ten years

old, and have been spending the winter in Virginia for my health. It was

very lonely there; and nothing interested me so much as your stories. The

"Brownies" are so funny!

I am writing this from my home in Washington; but I must tell you what a

hard time I had to get here. The steamer I was on was caught in a

blinding snow-storm, and had to anchor in the Chesapeake Bay a whole day

and night. Then, when we got nearly to Baltimore, a tug came to tell us

that we could not get into Baltimore for the ice; so the steamer turned

around and went back to Annapolis. From there I took the cars to

Washington.

Good-bye. Your constant reader,

JULIA ROCK.

SEWICKLEY, PA.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The following verbatim copy of a composition by an

eleven-year-old boy will interest some of your readers by its

originality. It is without suggestion or correction. W.

DEAR LUNCH BASKET,

Do you like to carry lunch? I like to eat the lunches that you carry;

sometimes you have better lunch than other times. I like it the best when

you have chicken sallad in. I hope you do not ever take anything out of

any other basket. I don't know very much to say to-day. Do you like a dog

to carry you? I hope you will all ways have good lunches from this time

on. Do you like the jam to run out of the bread on to you. I would not

think you would, but I don't know what you would like. Would you rather

be a boy?

H. B.

We heartily thank the young friends whose names here follow, for pleasant

letters received from them: Bessie C. Ketchum, "Yum-Yum" and "Ko-Ko," A.

M. L., Susie M., Winnie Jackson, Eddie D. Sherlock, Henry W. Armstrong,

Jessie Overlin, Herman Nelson Steele, Estelle K. D., Mark Waterman, Bijou

J. McKinnon, George A. Root, Catherine H. L'Engle, Bessie M. Rhodes, Rita

C. Smith, Fullerton L. Waldo, Emmett Murray, Mabel H. Chase, Elizabeth B.

Kelsey, "Bee," Meg R. M., Myra E. Smith, Dorothy E. B., Nattie, Beth and

Cherrie, Florence Ames, Maurice S. Sherman, Maud R., Al. Robinson and

Stuart Tatum, Mary A. Evans, P. B. Jennings, Herbert Cutting, Katie B.

Baird, Georgie King, Clara, Florence and Ada, Constance P. G., Mabel

Thompson, Alice Bussing, James G. R. Flemming, Nellie Montgomery, Blanche

E. B., Leigh Hodges, "Isabel Conway," Annie R. F., Bertie Byers, Edith I.

Benedict, J. A. Bonsteel.

[Illustration]

The Agassiz Association

SIXTY-SECOND REPORT.

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

The Agassiz Association is now so large, so widely known, and so firmly

established, that, in order to protect ourselves from the annoyance of

frivolous persons who, taken by the novelty of the idea, seek to join us

just for the fun of the thing, and then drop away after a few weeks, we

have decided to make the gates of admission swing just a trifle less

easily. The following circular will, therefore, be sent hereafter to all

who seek admission. It will be seen by every one that its requirements

are sufficiently liberal:

"PLEASE READ EVERY WORD CAREFULLY.

"The Agassiz Association is a Society for the observation of nature. It

is composed of 'Chapters,' which, apart from the common name,

constitution, and badge, are free to follow their own pursuits under the

direction of the President of the A. A. The smallest number recognized as

a Chapter is four, but after a branch has once been admitted, and has

continued active for six months, it is not then cut off, though its

membership should decline below four.

"There is no entrance fee for Chapters, nor any charge for registration,

or for the advertising of 'Exchanges' in ST. NICHOLAS. There are no

assessments, nor any "dues." The special classes, occasionally conducted

by eminent scientists, are freely open to all members. The only necessary

expense is 54 cents for the A. A. Hand-book. Engraved charters can be

obtained for $1.25 each, as many Chapters and individual members wish

them, but there is no obligation to purchase them. As we make no charges,

we appreciate generous orders for the little hand-books, whose sales

about cover the expenses of our enormous correspondence--usually nearly

every member is glad to secure a copy. _Individuals who join us without

organizing a Chapter, are charged a fee of 50 cents in addition to the

price of the Hand-book._

"Kindly fill out the inclosed application form and card (_excepting 'No.

of Chapter'_), and return them at once. Then, if accepted, the

certificate, number, and letter will be sent. It must be made one of your

by-laws that your Secretary send to the President a carefully prepared

report at least once a year, and should you at any time be compelled to

disband, immediate notice must be sent and the charter returned.

"The ST. NICHOLAS magazine is our only official organ, and it should be

found on the table of every Chapter; this, however, is not compulsory. In

the November, 1885, issue of ST. NICHOLAS, will be found full directions

for the annual reports, which are required from every Chapter.

"Badges are no longer to be had from Mr. Hayward, but should be ordered

through the President.

"APPLICATION FOR A CHARTER.

"We, whose names are on the accompanying card, hereby petition to be

recognized as a Chapter of the Agassiz Association. We accept the

constitution, we agree to the conditions of membership as explained in

the circular from which this form has been detached, and we faithfully

promise to do our best work in our several branches of study, and in all

ways heartily to support and further the interests of the General

Association. Respectfully

____________________________ _Secretary._"

The only new conditions are the agreement to send an annual report, and

to send immediate notice, in case of disbanding. Failure to do the latter

causes untold confusion throughout the whole Society, as the disbanded

Chapters continue, sometimes for years, to be addressed by the active

ones.

NOTES.

Important as are the proceedings of our Chapters, as set forth in their

"reports," they must not be allowed to crowd out the records of personal

observation, which we have presented until lately under the

heading--"Notes." We suggest, therefore, that all Chapters forward

promptly to the President whatever items of interest come to their notice

from time to time, without waiting for the formal annual report of the

Chapter's progress. The most important results of your observations

should also be incorporated in your annual report, as being of quite as

much general interest as the condition of your treasury. We intend to

devote a large share of this page to these "Notes," during the months of

July and August, when no Chapter reports are due.

REPORTS FROM THE FOURTH CENTURY.

314, _Lancaster, Pa. (A)_. With the Bedford, Pa., Chapter, we have

exchanged at least seven thousand crystals of iron pyrites, for minerals,

fossils, etc. Our egg, mineral, fossil, and shell cabinets are all pretty

well filled with labeled specimens. We now propose to take up Botany, and

desire to collect and mount at least four hundred specimens. Until

another year has elapsed, we hope to pursue our studies of the myriad

mysteries with which nature has surrounded us.--Edw. R. Heitshu.

320, _Peoria, Illinois_. We like geology better than the other sciences.

We have several fine localities in which to seek specimens, and we go

searching for them whenever we get a chance. We have several fine

trilobites, corals, and other fossils. We are very much pleased with the

A. A., and are delighted when we read of the good work it has

done.--James A. Smith.

339, _Salt Lake City (A)_. We are progressing very nicely. At the second

or third meeting after our summer vacation, it was announced that the

type of a defunct newspaper had come into the possession of one of the

members, and it was suggested that the Chapter publish a monthly

pamphlet.

The suggestion was carried into effect; two members were elected editors

and compositors combined. Friends kindly subscribed, and counting $5

generously given by Dr. E. Evans, enough money was raised to buy a

cabinet eight feet high and three and one-half feet wide. We are trying

to get a library. Two of us are building large boats to take trips and

explore Great Salt Lake. We have questions, two-minute talks, papers,

select readings, and criticisms.

We mean to try to make this the most successful year of our

existence.--Arthur Webb, Sec.

350, _Neillsville, Wis._ The dawning spring wakens us all. We are

planning a trip through Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona, which is to

last all next winter.--M. F. Bradshaw.

354, _Litchfield, Conn._ Our departments of ornithology and zoology

exhibit the best results. Many new specimens have been added, and great

improvement has been made in preserving them. The library has been

increased.--Lewis B. Woodruff.

355, _North Adams, Mass._ At present we have seventeen active and eleven

honorary members. We have questions distributed at each meeting which the

members are expected to answer at the following meeting. We try to have

at least one good essay each week, and occasionally a lecture. Our

cabinet is pretty well filled.--M. Louise Radlo.

365, _Hyde Park, Illinois_. There have been fifteen regular and three

special meetings during the past year. September 18, 1885, Mr. John F.

Gilchrist was elected president, and Mr. S. D. Flood vice-president of

the Chapter. Since March 27, 1885, there have been 125 specimens

presented. The total number now in the cabinet is 1000. With the aid of

the Board of Education, we have purchased a microscope valued at $100.

The literary exercises have consisted, as a rule, of debates on subjects

in natural science.--Blanche Longmire, Sec.

374. Three of us have revived our Chapter. We devote ourselves to science

instead of arguing parliamentary nonsense, as we used to do. We have come

to the conclusion that if we want to apply ourselves to science we must

drop parliamentary discussions.

Here is an example of our latest resolutions: "Resolved, That any member

who does not do his share in the scientific work, or by unseemly mirth

distracts the attention of the meeting, shall, after three reprimands by

the president, be expelled from the Chapter."

It is hoped by this and other cast-iron resolutions, to banish levity,

and meet together as sober, earnest workers. We'd rather have three

earnest workers than thirty that take no interest.--Frank E. Cocks.

378, _Ambler_, _Pa._ Our Society is now composed of about sixty members,

the teachers and scholars of Sunnyside School. We hold fortnightly

meetings; the exercises consist of referred questions, presentation of

specimens, readings, occasional debates, and the reading of the

_Sunnyside Naturalist_ by the editor. The officers are: Pres., Mary

McCann; V. P., Helen Styer; Sec., Carrie A. Lukens; Treas., Anson Smith;

Editor, John H. Rex. We seem to be more interested in mineralogy and

entomology than in any other branches.--Carrie A. Lukens, Sec.

[Illustration: YOUNG NATURALIST CLASSIFYING HER FIRST SPECIMEN:

"_Poly-omma-tus pseu-darg-io-lus!_--Gracious! if a little one like that

has such a dreadful name, how can I ever remember the big ones!"]

382, _Brooklyn, N. Y. (F)_. This is our fourth year. We have eight active

and eight honorary members. Meetings have been held weekly without

interruption, except for summer vacations. Geology has been our subject

during the greater part of the time. Each year we go a little farther

into it. Our collection, while not large, is by no means a poor one, and

our pleasure is enhanced by examination of actual specimens. We have all

been benefited by our study, and have now an intelligent general idea of

geology. We have received very kind attention from the President of the

"Brooklyn Entomological Society," who is an enthusiast in plants and

insects. No Chapter is more interested than ours in the growth and

success of the entire Association.--D. A. Van Ingen, per B. S.

386, _Pine City, Minn._ We think that keeping live animals is more

profitable than only stuffed skins, as we have a live owl, and find it

more interesting to watch him than to watch a skull and claws which

belonged to another owl. We have, of insects, 980 species; minerals, 110;

stuffed birds, 6; animals, 2; heads, 4; skulls, 6; miscellaneous, 20.

Total, 1128; and 1018 of them are native in Minnesota.--Ernest L.

Stephen.

387, _Baltimore, Md. (E)_. After your kind letter the members took

courage and determined, under all circumstances, to continue the club.

Our greatest difficulty was in securing a place to meet. In our despair

we went to the President of our University (Johns Hopkins), who showed

great interest in us, yet could not give us a room under his roof. We

then decided to store our collection (which amounts to packing them on my

own shelves, in the modest little room known in our family as "Ned's

Den"), and accept the invitation of one of our young lady members to meet

in her study. This we have been doing ever since.--Edward McDowell, for

the Secretary.

395, _Montreal (A)_. Since the organization of our Chapter on January 5,

1883, a wonderful change has taken place. Then only six individuals met

to discuss the advisability of organizing a branch here; to-day we have a

large collection and a good attendance at the meetings.

Each session of this branch commences on the first Friday in October of

each year and closes about the 15th of June of the following year. In

this period we usually hold eighteen regular meetings. So far this

session, we have had six regular meetings at which a number of excellent

papers have been read; among them might be mentioned the following:

Origin of Life, by Rev. E. King, M. A.; two papers on Botany, by H.

McAdam, Esq.; New and Variable Stars, by W. H. Smith, Esq., President of

the Astro-Meteorological Association; Our Insect Friends and Insect Foes,

by Rev. T. W. Fyles; Electricity, by Prof. J. T. Donald, B. A.; and

Health, its Importance and its Laws, by Dr. Desrosiers, M. D. These

papers were fully illustrated with diagrams, specimens, and experiments.

Our collection is steadily increasing, and numbers about 7000 specimens

at present, neatly arranged in ninety-two drawers contained in two large

cabinets, and an upright glass case, which latter contains the mounted

birds and mammals. Our little library, which contains only scientific

publications, is nicely arranged in a book-case for the purpose. It

includes about 150 volumes and many pamphlets unbound.

One very encouraging feature in our work has been that many of our young

people who previously took but little interest in the study of nature

have now gained a liking for the study, and a number have made private

collections and are carefully studying the different forms in which they

are specially interested. One member has carefully studied the life

history of _H. luna_, one of our large _bombyces_, while another has been

studying the flora of the Island of Montreal, and another is devoting his

time to chemistry. This latter subject has been acknowledged by many of

the members to be the fundamental and most fascinating study, and the one

most elevating to the mind, as it can not fail to lead a student from

nature to nature's God, and I confidently believe the science which tends

towards that is the study which will eventually take first place in the

scientific world.--W. D. Shaw, Secretary, 34 St. Peter Street, Montreal,

Canada; Thos. Patton, Pres.

398, _Roseville, N. J._ Our Chapter has been divided into four sections,

each having its own Chapter, and in turn instructing the club on its

special subject. We have purchased a few standard books, a book-case, and

a very handsome cabinet, which we have nearly filled with fine specimens.

The leading events of the season have been a social party, and a debate

on the comparative utility of wood and iron. We will never say die.--Sara

Darrach, Secretary.

400, _Fargo, Dakota._ We have rented a fine suite of rooms. We have

eighteen members, and the prospect of as many more. We have a cabinet

full of specimens, and are prepared to exchange minerals, shells, Indian

relics, etc., with other chapters. We are settled now, and are doing good

hard work. With best wishes for yourself and the A. A.--Frank Brown, Sec.

Box 1769.

DELAYED REPORTS.

262, _Denver (B)_. It has been a long time since any report has been made

by this Chapter, and we have been so far separated that we could not do

much for the A. A.; but we hope to do better in the future. About

one-half the members have been living in the East for two years, while

the rest of us were here. We were united a little over a year ago, and

since then there has been a great deal of sickness among us, ending

disastrously; but for all that, we have had quite a mass of

correspondence with other Chapters in all parts of the country, and have

also done some exchanging of specimens which has resulted very favorably

for us, and, we think, for those to whom we have sent specimens. We have

now a very nice cabinet, well filled with specimens which we value very

highly, and we shall soon have to get another, as we have room for no

more specimens. We hope to do some good work in the future in mineralogy,

which is our particular branch of study.--Ernest L. Roberts, Sec. Box

2272.

295, _Boonville, N. Y._ Our Chapter ran down for a long time, but a few

months ago we started it anew and in earnest.

We now have seven active members, and two honorary. We expect more to

join at our next meeting. We meet once a week at the houses of members.

Not long ago we went to see an old geologist's cabinet of specimens. He

has a great many. He said when he first commenced collecting he lived in

an old log-house, and his first cabinet was a log split in two, with a

board, that was used for a walk to the spring, nailed on it. If all the

members of our Chapter were half as earnest to collect and preserve

specimens as he was, we should have some lively times.--W. S. Johnson,

Sec.

AN INVITATION.

The New England Meteorological Society invites the assistance of members

of the Agassiz Association in New England and Eastern New York, in the

observation of thunder-storms during the summer months. Records are

wanted of the time of the beginning of rain and of the loudest thunder

for every thunderstorm in all parts of New England. More complete

records, giving temperature and direction of wind are welcomed from those

who will make them. Instructions and blanks will be furnished, on

application to

W. M. DAVIS, Sec. N. E. M. S.,

Cambridge, Mass.

EXCHANGES.

Minerals, curiosities, and fossils, for same. Send for list. E. G. Conde,

Schenectady, N. Y. (Sec. 891).

Pressed orange-blossoms, orange-wood, Japan plum-wood, fig-wood, Florida

moss and other Southern curiosities, for labeled bird-skins, eggs, or

nests. Write first.--Percy S. Benedict, 1243 St. Charles Street, New

Orleans, La.

Cocoons of the _Cecropia_ and _Promethea_ moths, for cocoons of other

moths.--3646 Vincennes Av., Chicago, Ill.

Pressed flowers.--Miss Alice Grass, Sec. 323, Bryan, Ohio.

First-class bird-skins, for Southern skins or eggs. Write first.--L. M.

Davies, 203 Newell St., Cleveland, Ohio.

Botanical specimens, for same. Send lists.--Theo. Kellogg, De Pere, Wis.

NEW CHAPTERS.

_No._ _Name._ _No. of Members._ _Address._

950 Swarthmore, Pa. (A) 8 Maria W. Flagg.

951 Cleveland, O. (E) 4 L. M. Davies, 203 Newell St.

952 West Troy, N. Y. (A) 13 Geo. F. P. Michaelis,

Watervliet Arsenal.

953 La Porte, Ind. (C) 5 Mrs. A. C. Loomis, Box 1069.

954 Copenhagen, N. Y. (A) 5 L. L. Lewis, Box 174.

955 Ridgefield, Conn. (A) 5 Roger C. Adams.

956 Alleghany, Pa. (B) 5 A. D. Roessing,

W. P. R. R. Depot.

DISSOLVED.

412 Syracuse, N. Y. (C) B. Burrett Nash.

165 Plymouth, Conn (A) 4 W. C. Talmadge.

390 Chester, Mass. (A) W. J. Stanton.

REORGANIZED.

597 Lawrence, Kansas (B) 4 F. L. Wemple, 1109 Tenn. St.

323 Bryan, Ohio (A) 8 Miss Alice Grass.

Address all communications for this department to the President of the A.

A.,

MR. HARLAN H. BALLARD,

Principal of Lenox Academy, Lenox, Mass.

THE RIDDLE-BOX.

The names of those who send solutions are printed in the third number

after that in which the puzzles appear. Answers should be addressed to

ST. NICHOLAS "Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth

St., New York City.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER were received, too late for

acknowledgment in the May number, from E. Muriel Grundy, England, 9--No

name, Warrington, England, 9--A. H. Jameson, Accrington, England,

1--Francis W. Islip, Leicester, England, 10--

ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before

March 20, from "Clifford and Coco"--Maud E. Palmer--Paul Reese--Maud and

Bessie--Xylo--Madge and the "Dominie"--No name--Quincy--Sallie

Viles--"Pepper and Maria"--"Baby, Bobby, and Booby"--J. P. B.--"San

Anselmo Valley"--Josie Martin--Dwight Merrill--"Blithedale"--"Betsy

Trotwood"--May and Philip--Philip and Bobbie Faulkner--"Savoir et

Sagesse"--Bertha Gerhard--Nellie and Reggie--"Mohawk Valley"--"Shumway

Hen and Chickens"--"R. U. Pert"--B. H.--Lulu May--"B. L. Z. Bub, No.

2"--"Frying-pan"--Francis W. Islip--Hazel and Laurel--M. Margaret and E.

Muriel Grundy--"Young England"--

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before MARCH 20,

from W. Young, 2--E. Routh, 1--Blanche and Fred, 8--E. H. Rossiter, 1--G.

Roome, 1--D. Dean, 1--B. B., 1--F. C. Barber, 2--"The Crew," 1--J. R.

Smith, 1--A. and B. Knox, 8--G. Gardner, 1--V. F. Hunt, 1--F. Althans,

1--Nanki-Pooh, 2--R. E. Olwine, 2--"Dazee," 3--G. M. Bond, 1--J. A.

Bonsted, 1--F. and M. Mellen, 1--W. W. Q., 1--J. J. E., 1--M. L. Hayward,

1--R. L. Foering, 1--A. G. and E. B. Converse, 1--J. H. Laycock, 1--W. H.

Stuart, 1--N. McK., 1--L. Simmons, 1--B. B. Witherspoon, 2--Hilda and

Laura, 1--E. L. Du Puy, 1--Mollie Ludlow, 8--"Damon and Pythias,"

1--"Tweedledum and Tweedledee," 4--E. De B. Wickersham, 3--M. E. Breed,

1--Howard and Nickie, 2--F. E. Bond, 1--Agnes E. Grunsbine,

2--"Tourmaline," 2--W. K. Cornwell, 3--Ned Mitchell, 3--"February and

June," 8--M. G. Fiero, 3--W. R. M., 8--J. Moses, 1--Edith Neil and Mamma,

8--S. and F. Guttman, 5--G. T. Hughes, 2--Lizinka C. B., 1--L. Reeves,

6--Francesca and Co., 8--E. C. Bliss, 1--S. Hubbell, 3--Mamie R., 7--J.

R. Holme, Jr., 1--L. A. Hosford, 1--Walter La Bar, 8--Eleanor, Maude and

Louise Peart, 5--Two Cousins, 8--Dash, 8--Harry A. Bull, 6--F. M. Wickes,

3--Becky and Floy, 2--Emma St. C. Whitney, 4--Fannie and Louise, 6--N. L.

Howes, 2--"Zemie and Felice," 6--"Anonymous," 2--C. D. Mason, 2--Fred T.

Pierce, 4--J. H. Miller, 1--L. H. Adams, 1--Effie K. Talboys, 6--E. H.

Seward, 6--A. W. Lindsay, 6--A. and E. Pendleton, 8--C. S. Seaver and A.

M. Young, 8--Lucia C. Bradley, 8--"Jack Spratt," 4--"Theo. Ther,"

8--Annette Fiske, 8--C. and H. Condit, 8--Belle and Bertha Murdock,

7--"Jabberwock," 8--T. Gutman, 4--R. Lloyd, 6--L. Rice, 1--L. L. Lee,

1--Morris, 1--Lillie, Olive, and Ida G., 6--Aunt C. Avis, and G. S.

Davenport, 7--J. A. Keeler, 3--Jessie D., 8--Oscar and Rosa, 4--A. R.

Pabst, 3--H. B. Weil, 2--B. T. Dixon, 1--"Sairy Gamp and Betsy Prig,"

8--Jo and I, 8--Alice Crawford, 1--No Name, Norfolk, 7--Mamma and Pearl,

4--C. Holbrook, 1--Mamma and Fanny, 8--Seb and Barn, 8--Pygro,--One

Little Maid, 1--E. Rossiter, 1--M. L. G., 6--F. D., 6--Daisy and Mabel,

8--"Dolly Varden," 4--No name, Warrington, 5.

HALF-SQUARE.

1. The name of a large country. 2. The central part of an amphitheater.

3. Tidy. 4. An insect. 5. Two-thirds of a bird. 6. A vowel.

"SAMBO."

RHOMBOID.

ACROSS: 1. A vessel with one mast. 2. A musical instrument. 3. A fungus

growth found on rye. 4. Serving to inspire fear. 5. Of a yellowish red

color.

DOWNWARD: 1. In yesterday. 2. An exclamation. 3. Mineral. 4. An imaginary

monster. 5. Serving-boys. 6. A girl's name. 7. A common, whitish metal.

8. A boy's nickname. 9. In yesterday.

H. H. D.

CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.

My first is in branch, but not in tree;

My second in land, but not in sea;

My third is in orange, but not in seed;

My fourth is in plants, but not in weed;

My fifth is in first, but not in third;

My sixth is in mouse, but not in bird;

My seventh in smile, but not in pout;

My whole the world would look lonely without.

JULIA BRYANT H.

ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS.

. .

. . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . * . . . . . .

. . . . * * * . . . .

. . * * * * * . .

* * * * * * *

. . * * * * * . .

. . . . * * * . . . .

. . . . . . * . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . .

. .

I. UPPER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: 1. In plans. 2. The fine soft hair of certain

animals. 3. Prices of passage. 4. An early dissenter from the Church of

England. 5. To furnish with a new point. 6. The juice of plants. 7. In

plans.

II. UPPER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: 1. In plans. 2. Marsh. 3. A character in

"Oliver Twist." 4. Africans. 5. The daughter of Tantalus. 6. Born. 7. In

plans.

III. CENTRAL DIAMOND: 1. In plans. 2. An inclosure. 3. Pertaining to the

puma. 4. The goddess of retribution. 5. Pertaining to a feature of the

face. 6. Nothing. 7. In plans.

IV. LOWER LEFT-HAND DIAMOND: 1. In plans. 2. A boy's nickname. 3. A short

staff. 4. Irritates. 5. A Latin word signifying "to be unwilling." 6.

Born. 7. In plans.

V. LOWER RIGHT-HAND DIAMOND: 1. In plans. 2. To permit. 3. Of a lead

color. 4. More than two. 5. Weary. 6. A name by which a. father is

sometimes called. 7. In plans.

"SANDY-SIDE."

"DIAMOND" PUZZLE.

[Illustration: C. W. Bardwell]

From the objects shown in the diamond, construct a "double diamond." (One

that will read differently across and up and down.) The two central words

are shown in the center of the diamond.

BURIED CITIES.

1. The month of October never is very cold. 2. She would as lief scrub as

learn a hard lesson. 3. There was an iceberg engraved on the silver

pitcher. 4. You must quit overworking or you will be ill, no doubt. 5. He

knew her at once, by her peculiar gait. 6. Can you command a layman to do

what is the pastor's work? 7. I love nice wicker-work. 8. The convicts

are all sombre men, I should say, when they do such heavy work.

"LOU C. LEE."

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

My primals spell the Christian name, and my finals the surname of a great

and good man, who was born in June, and who died in June. He was

connected with a famous English school.

CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): 1. The muse who presides over comedy. 2.

Excessive fear. 3. The king of the fairies. 4. A popular operetta. 5.

Belonging to the stars. 6. A famous sailor.

"TALLY-HO."

A BERRY PUZZLE.

Each of the twelve little pictures in the accompanying illustration,

suggests the name of a familiar berry. Name the berries in the order in

which they are numbered.

[Illustration]

DIAMOND.

1. In redstart. 2. A meadow. 3. A caterpillar. 4. A snake. 5. To turn

aside. 6. An insect. 7. In redstart.

STANLEY W. MERRELL.

PI.

Ni Jeun 't si dogo ot eli hatbeen a teer

Wheil eth thileb nesaso trosmocf veeyr neses,

Stepse lal eth nabir ni stre, dan sheaf eth thear,

Grimminb ti o're hwit tensweses sawaruen.

Gantfrar dan estnil sa atht syro nows,

Writewheh eth tyingpi papel etef flils pu,

Dan edentryl nesil soem stal-eary birno's tens.

BEHEADINGS.

1. Behead a narrow piece of woven fabric and leave a quadrumanous animal.

2. Behead a coarse file and leave a poisonous serpent. 3. Behead an image

or representation and leave to peruse. 4. Behead a small, pointed piece

of metal and leave to be indisposed. 5. Behead a Mohammedan prince and

leave a person. 6. Behead current and leave a small fish. 7. Behead to

throw or cast and leave to terminate.

The beheaded letters, read in the order here given, will spell the name

of a Sunday which comes in June.

"XYLO."

DOUBLE DIAGONALS.

1 . . . . . . . 3

. * . . . . . * .

. . * . . . * . .

. . . * . * . . .

. . . . * . . . .

. . . * . * . . .

. . * . . . * . .

. * . . . . . * .

4 . . . . . . . 2

ACROSS: 1. Consuming by degrees. 2. A certain time of one's life. 3. By

degrees. 4. Daring. 5. One who chaffers. 6. Displayed. 7. Contrition. 8.

The science of sounds. 9. Formerly much used in making furniture.

The diagonals from 1 to 2 and from 3 to 4, each name a little song bird.

GILBERT FORREST.

CHARADE.

My _first_, a happy youngster,

Went forth one summer's day,--

My _second_ he was seeking,

For he was fond of play.

And quoth he, somewhat sagely,

"I've not a single sou

To buy my _whole_, so, really,

I'll have to make these do."

He found the magic number;

Then down the road he went

To join his merry playmates,

On game of _whole_ intent.

M. C. D.

METAMORPHOSES.

The problem is to change one given word to another given word,

by altering one letter at a time, each alteration making a new word,

the number of letters being always the same, and the letters remaining

always in the same order. Sometimes the metamorphoses may

be made in as many moves as there are letters in each given word,

but in other instances more moves are required.

EXAMPLE: Change LAMP to FIRE in four moves. Answer, LAMP, LAME, FAME,

FARE, FIRE.

1. Change APE to MAN in eight moves. 2. Change OARS to BOAT in eight

moves. 3. Change LEAD to GOLD in six moves. 4. Change WARM to COLD in

five moves. 5. Change ONE to TWO in eight moves. 6. Change AGE to GAS in

seven moves.

"OLD CARTHUSIAN" and F. W.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER.

MOTHER GOOSE PUZZLE.

Hark, hark! The dogs do bark,

The beggars are coming to town;

Some in rags and some in tags,

And some in velvet gown.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue

Of him that makes it.

--_Love's Labor Lost_, Act. v., Sc. 2.

PI.

At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by,

And brings, you know not why,

A feeling as when eager crowds await

Before a palace gate

Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start,

If from a beech's heart

A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say,

"Behold me! I am May!"

_Henry Timrod._

CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Rowena. 1. sh-O-ne. 2. sh-E-ll. 3. to-W-er. 4. cr-A-te.

5. pa-R-ry. 6. pa-N-ic.

GREEK CROSS. Upper Square: 1. Start. 2. Tabor. 3. Above. 4.

Roves. 5. Tress. Left-hand Square; 1. Tract. 2. Rumor. 3. Ample. 4.

Coles. 5. Tress. Central Square: 1. Tress. 2. Raven. 3. Evade. 4. Sedge.

5. Sneer. Right-hand Square: 1. Sneer. 2. Noble. 3. Ebbed. 4. Elegy. 5.

Redye. Lower Square: 1. Sneer. 2. Nacre. 3. Eclat. 4. Erato. 5. Retop.

TRIPLE ACROSTIC. Primals, centrals, and finals, mist-rust-less. Across:

1. MonaRchaL. 2. IntrUsivE. 3. SpinSterS. 4. TrusTlesS.

INVERTED PYRAMID. Across: 1. Dimension. 2. Devours. 3. Nitre. 4. Lee. 5.

D.

CONNECTED SQUARES: Centrals, downward, house-w-right; centrals, across,

heart-w-heels. I. 1. Echos. 2. Croup. 3. House. 4. Ousel. 5. Spell. II.

1. Ashes. 2. Siege. 3. Heart. 4. Egret. 5. Setto. III. 1. Pshaw. 2.

Stela. 3. Heels. 4. Allot. 5. Waste. IV. 1. Carom. 2. Amice. 3. Right. 4.

Ochre. 5. Meter.

FINAL ACROSTIC. Finals, Plantagenet. Cross-words: 1. shrimP. 2. symboL.

3. salviA. 4. spraiN. 5. spiriT. 6. siestA. 7. sprinG. 8. simplE. 9.

straiN. 10. satirE. 11. straiT.

WORD-SQUARES IN DIAMONDS. I. 1. S. 2. Pat. 3. Sates. 4. Tea. 5. S. II. 1.

F. 2. Tap. 3. Fares. 4. Pen. 5. S. III. 1. F. 2. Baa. 3. Fairy. 4 Art. 5.

Y.

DECORATION DAY PUZZLE.

Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest,

Your truth and valor wearing;

The bravest are the tenderest,--

The loving are the daring.

HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, Cleveland; Cross-words: 1. deliCious. 2.

sheLlac. 3. fiEnd. 4. EVa. 5. E. 6. iLl. 7. meAns. 8. misName. 9.

overDoses.

WORD-SQUARE. 1. Anna. 2. Near. 3. Name. 4. Area.

Transcriber's Note: All apparent printer's errors, dialect, and other

(deliberate) mis-spellings have been retained.

Transcriber's Note: Irish characters have been marked in braces, such as

{A} for an Irish letter "A", etc. The proper symbols can be found in the

HTML version of this book.

End of Project Gutenberg's St. Nicholas Vol XIII. No. 8 June 1886, by Various