Flea was a hardy, country-bred child, and as little afraid of thunder,
lightning, and flood as of the loneliness of the deserted school-house.
She laughed low and gleefully as she drew her skirt up to her knees and
stuck out both thin brown legs in the warm rain, wriggling her toes
contentedly in the shower-bath. A broad reddish pool was spread out in
front of the door in three minutes, and the heavy drops plashing into it
raised tiny bobbing bubbles.
"They are fairies dancing at a ball!" ejaculated Flea. "How featly they
foot it!"
The rain poured on, the dull rumble on the roof stirring up hollow
echoes in the room behind her; the fairies danced more and more wildly
as a sharp shower of hail mixed with the rain-drops. The falling pellets
stung Flea's legs, and she drew them in, still laughing, drying them
imperfectly with a blue cotton handkerchief she took from her pocket.
Sitting further back out of the spray, she doubled her legs under her to
warm them.
The rain streamed steadily, beating the wind down; the sky darkened
slowly, with no alternations of lighter glimpses. In happy
unconsciousness of the lapse of time, Flea waited patiently for the
"holding-up" that could not be far away.
"When it rains so hard, it doesn't last long," she thought, surprised to
find herself yawning.
The monotonous patter upon the roof, the dash and drip from the
unguttered eaves, had made her drowsy. She would take a short nap, and
find it clear upon awakening. Then there would be a merry tramp through
the puddles, and pines, and wet old-field broom-straw, to her supper at
sunset.
She shut the door, went back to her corner, and stretched herself upon a
bench, putting the bulky Shakespeare under her head for a pillow.
"What rich and strange dreams I ought to have!" she murmured; shut her
eyes and took up the examination-day scene where she had left it off.
Yes, that would be just the right thing to say. She must speak
distinctly so that other people would hear it as well as the dear Major,
who would stand there smiling down at her:
"You do me too--much--honor--I--assure--"
The soughing of the weak gusts in the aspen-boughs, the plashing from
the eaves, and the thud upon the clap-boarded roof, steady as a
drum-beat, had made quick work of waking dreams.
An hour went by. The wind shifted to the east and blew the door ajar,
but the interior was no lighter for the opening. Darkness settled within
and without the lonely building--a night in which there would be neither
moon nor star to light the child, should she awake, to attempt the
measured mile that lay between the school-house and her home.
Before preceding her thither I must try to explain to the young reader
of this generation what was the social position of an overseer upon a
Virginia plantation at a time when all the house and field servants were
negro slaves. The overseer was as white as his employer, but much nearer
the slave's level, unwilling as he might be to admit it, and his social
rank suffered accordingly.
The Duncombes were too secure in their position in State, county, and
neighborhood to be supercilious to inferiors, and too sensible not to
appreciate the fact that the Grigsbys were most respectable in their
walk of life. The father was a faithful and valuable official upon the
great estate which comprised five of the best farms upon the river. Miss
Emily and Miss Eliza were often at the overseer's house upon one errand
or another, and sat for half an hour in as friendly chat with Mrs.
Grigsby as if she had belonged to their visiting-list. Every spring and
autumn she was sent for from Greenfield to help with the cutting out and
making up of the clothes for the army of servants, who must be looked
after and cared for as if they were children. Sometimes Mrs. Grigsby did
not return to her home for several days, receiving cordial kindness from
all of the Duncombes.
The night was chilly after the hail-storm, and the rain had not ceased.
All the children, except Flea, were clustered in "the chamber," where
was a glow of heat and light.
The fire was getting so hot that Bea pushed her chair and set the
candle-stand further away from it, and demanded of Calley (short for
Caledonia) "what she was thinkin' about to let the baby roast his brains
by crawlin' so close to the hearth!"
"He'll ketch fire, if you don't mind," she added. "Move him to the other
side of the room."
"Do it yourself," retorted the checks-player. "It's my turn now, an' I
can't stop for nothin'. One, two, three!"
"We'll see 'bout that, my lady, when ma comes in," said the other, in an
elder-sisterly tone, and a step in the passage giving notice of the
threatened "coming," Calley missed the marble she had meant to catch
upon the back of her hand, and turning over on her side, made a long arm
to drag the baby by his frock away from the hearth.
Thus suddenly attacked in the rear, the luckless infant lost his balance
and pitched over upon his forehead. The thump was followed by a terrific
howl.
"I declar' you children are enough to w'ar anybody's life out of her!"
exclaimed Mrs. Grigsby, picking up the screaming child and beginning to
rub his forehead hard with the palm of her hand--"to scatter the
bruise," she would have said if asked why she did it. "Thar, thar,
deary! ma's sugar pie! I should 'a' thought some on you might 'a'
hendered him from ketchin' sech a fall as that. Calley, give me one o'
them sugar rags to stop his mouth!"
The sugar rags were small squares of old linen or muslin, in which were
tied up cold boiled rice or stale bread and brown sugar. Each was of the
shape and size of a marble, and, before it was given to the baby, was
dipped in milk, or, if milk were not at hand, in water. The smallest
Grigsby's howl subsided into a queer whine, like that of a choking
puppy, and this into an intermittent grunt, as his mother trotted him on
her knee, holding the sugar rag in his mouth all the while.
"I come in to arsk ef any you children has any idea whar your sister
Flea is," she was saying, when she could talk down the baby. "I've been
a-callin' of her upsta'rs an' down-sta'rs an' all over the place, an'
she ain't nowhar to be foun'. Your pa he's gone to the stable to see ef
she's crawled up inter the hay-lof', or some sech outlandish place, an'
gone to sleep. That chile's as wild as a hawk. You never know what
she'll be up to nex'. She'll get los' sure 'nough some o' these days,
an' then _thar_ it will be!"
"She's got the right name," giggled Bea. "She's jest like a flea--when
you put your finger on her, she ain't there."
"It's no laughin' matter, I ken tell you, Mr. Dee!" retorted his mother,
as Dee's snicker answered his sister's giggle. "Well, pa," as her
husband entered, "any sign o' her?"
Mr. Grigsby, a tall lean man with sandy hair and whiskers, who looked
and spoke like a person with more sense and far more education than the
wife he had married fifteen years before for her pretty face and good
housekeeping, stalked up to the hearth, shaking the wet from his coat
into the fire, after the manner of a huge water-dog. Dee drew back to
escape from the flying drops, and Bea put her embroidery behind her.
Neither ventured to complain. Their father was kind and just to them,
but he was master in his own house, and not to be trifled with when his
face was as black as they now saw it. His voice was naturally harsh, and
he had a touch of the Scotch "burr" in his speech. He spoke roughly and
angrily:
"Sign of her? No! Things have come to a pretty pass if all of you
together can't keep the run of one child while I'm off on the plantation
working like a horse to put bit and sup into your mouths. Chaney tells
me she saw her go off towards the woods right after dinner, with a book
under her arm and her knitting in her hand. Have any of you seen her
since?"
The children looked from one to the other, and then to their mother, who
looked at them in the same way. Nobody said a word. Mr. Grigsby reached
up for a lantern that stood on the chimney-piece, opened it, and lighted
the candle within with a coal taken from the fire with the tongs. He
snapped to the lantern door, crossed the room in three strides, and in
another minute was heard outside shouting to Dick to saddle his horse
and bring him around.
When the horse was ready he whistled up a couple of dogs, and swung
himself into the saddle. As he did so, a voice called shrilly to him,
and his wife ran out into the rain, throwing her apron over her head as
she came.
"Pa! pa! stop!" she panted. "Bea says she's 'most certain Flea's gone to
see Miss Em'ly. The child's jes distracted after her, you know, an' Bea
says she was sayin' this mornin' how she'd promised to gether a heap o'
life-everlastin' for Miss Em'ly to stuff a piller with. Bea says sure's
you're born thar's whar the run-mad thing has gone to, an' they've kep'
her all night on 'count o' the rain, Bea says."
Mr. Grigsby's patience and temper were often tried by his children's
mother. Sometimes he spoke his mind to her. Oftener he did not express
his feelings in words. They found vent now in a single harsh "Pshaw!" a
Scotch snort, which she might have divided equally between herself and
her oracle, Bea. As he blew it out he struck his spur into the horse's
side and vanished into the rainy darkness, the dogs racing after him.
"I never see your pa more heady'n he is to-night," sighed the mother,
returning to the waiting group that filled the lighted front door. "He's
hard's a rock when he's sot upon anything."
The hard head was turned in the direction of Greenfield. The father
might "pshaw" at Bea's suggestions and her mother's conclusions, but his
sound sense told him they had given him a likely clew to the whereabouts
of the missing child. If she had carried what he named in his
displeasure "old-field trash" to "the house," she would have been
detained there by the storm. Miss Emily made a pet of the lassie, and
they might take it for granted that her family knew where she was. She
got caught in a snow-storm up there last winter, and Miss Emily would
not let her go home for three days. The idea became more and more
plausible as he pushed on, the dogs at his heels, his big umbrella over
his head. By the time the lights of the great house on the hill
glimmered through the straight lines of rain, he was quite sure he
should find his daughter under that safe shelter.
He rode to the stable and put his horse under cover, then made his way
to the front door. It stood wide open, and so did that of the
drawing-room, the broad red light flashing out into the hall telling
that a fire had been kindled there.
A burst of music from the drawing-room arrested Mr. Grigsby's hand as he
raised it to the knocker. Miss Emily and Miss Eliza were singing at the
piano, and a man's voice joined in with theirs. The listener's knowledge
of music was slight, but he had a good ear, and he knew that the
unfamiliar voice was remarkably fine. It was strong and clear and sweet,
and each word was articulated distinctly. The three were singing one of
Moore's melodies arranged as a fugue, or, as unmusical people used to
call it, "a chasing tune."
"Meet me by moonlight alo-o-o-ne,"
sang Miss Emily's small voice, as tunefully as a bobolink. And while she
went on with
"And then I will tell thee a tale,"
Miss Eliza took up "Meet me by moonlight alone."
Before they could begin the second verse Mr. Grigsby let the knocker
fall smartly, and Major Duncombe himself came out into the hall.
"Ah, Mr. Grigsby!" he said, cordially, but looking surprised.
"Good-evening. Walk in. Nothing the matter, I hope?"
"I hope not, sir. But I was in hope of finding my little girl here.
Fl--Felicia, my second daughter. She has not come home, and I thought
she might have come up here on some errand or other, and been kept by
the rain."
In the hush that followed his knock what he said was heard plainly in
the drawing-room, and all the home party, headed by Miss Emily, now
appeared, questioning and anxious.
Miss Emily flew up to the overseer, her blue eyes large, her red lips
apart. She was out of breath and quite pale with alarm.
[Illustration: "WON'T YOU ALL GO RIGHT OFF AND LOOK FOR HER?"]
"What _did_ you say, Mr. Grigsby? _Is_ my little scholar lost? She isn't
here. She hasn't been here all day--no, not for a _week_ and more. Oh,
the _poor_ little dear! I _hope_ nothing has happened to her. Won't you
_all_ go right off and look for her?"
She wrung her tiny white hands, and turned, first to her father, then to
her grown brother, and lastly to Mr. Tayloe, who was nearest to her.
"Can't _I_ go too?" she pleaded, and her eyes had real tears of real
distress in them. A little more and she would be crying outright.
Three or four people began to speak all at once, but Mr. Tayloe's voice
arose above the rest.
"Isn't that the child we saw at the school-house to-day, Major? We left
her there at half past three, Mr. Grigsby. She must have been caught
there by the rain."
In some way which nobody could have explained his cool, matter-of-fact
manner was like a wet blanket upon the excitement caused by the news of
the child's disappearance. Even Mr. Grigsby felt for an instant that
much ado had been made over a very little matter. Miss Emily tittered
nervously.
"How _very_ clever in you to recollect it, Mr. Tayloe!" gazing
gratefully at him. "_Please_, papa, order ever so many of the men to go
right _straight_ after her with lights and blankets and hot coffee and
things, and bring her _right_ here. I can find some dry clothes for her,
and she can sleep in my room, and--"
"That will do, Emily," said her father, quietly. "Joe"--to the colored
footman who had been summoned by the knocker--"tell Jack and Emmanuel to
get lightwood knots, and Cæsar to have my gig ready at once. Mr.
Grigsby, I will go with you. As Mr. Tayloe suggests, we shall probably
find the child at the school-house."
Mr. Grigsby's eyes and ears were quick. He was near enough to Miss Emily
to overhear her say in an undertone to Mr. Tayloe:
"Won't you go, too, _please_? It will be a _real_ favor to me."
The overseer faced her abruptly. "Excuse me, Miss Emily, but I hope you
won't persuade Mr. Tayloe to go out this wet night. There is no need
whatever for him to do it. Indeed, Major Duncombe, if you will kindly
let one of the hands go along with a lightwood torch, it is all I could
ask. I am very sorry to cause such a disturbance."
"I shall go, if Major Duncombe will allow me, because it is Miss
Duncombe's desire," said Mr. Tayloe, stiffly.
It would be foolish and useless to discuss the matter further. The canny
Scotchman knew the impropriety of disputing with one who was now a
member of his employer's family. With a brief "good-night" to the
ladies, he went off to get his horse.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
FROM CHUM TO CHUM.
BY GASTON V. DRAKE.
IX.--FROM BOB TO JACK.
LONDON, _July_ --, 189-.
[Illustration]
DEAR JACK,--Pop wants me to keep a dairy of this trip, and I told him I
would, but it takes an awful pile of time to do it and write letters
home too, so it's come down to this: Either you've got to keep these
letters I'm writing to you, and let me have 'em type-written when I get
back, or I've got to keep the dairy, and if I keep the dairy you don't
get any more letters. I'll keep on writing until you let me know what
you're going to do about it, because I guess maybe you'll say all right,
go ahead. I don't see much sense in keeping dairys, but Pop says that
boys that go abroad ought to, because they see lots and lots of things
they never saw before and ought to remember. "What's the matter with
remembering them?" said I, and he said: "Oh, you can't. Once there was a
man who really remembered all he saw and heard, and when he got to be an
old man his memory held so much it bulged his head out, and he had to
have his hats built for him at ruinous expence."
Speaking of expence reminds me. The money they have over here is fine.
My allowance when I'm home is ten cents a week, and over here Pop gives
me sixpence. It's a clear gain of two cents a week, and I'm mighty glad
I wasn't getting a quarter a week, because then Pop says he'd have made
it a shilling, and I'd have lost a cent every week, because a shilling's
only worth twenty-four cents. I hate to spend my allowance here though.
I don't wonder English people get awful rich. It's easier to save than
it is at home because over here when you spend money you feel as if you
were spending your collection of coins, which you don't like to do. I've
spent two bully coins already. One of 'em had George the Third's head on
it, and the other was a Queen's Jubylee sixpence.
There's other money too, and lots of gold in sight. The five-dollar gold
piece and the Queen all go by the same name, the sovereign, though some
people call it the pound so as to extinguish it from the Queen. I
haven't seen her yet, and I don't know as I want to. They say she wears
bonnets just like all other women, and doesn't go round with regal
things on at all. I don't see what fun there is in seeing a Queen if she
don't carry a wand in her hand and wear a crown on her head.
There's lots of nonsense in the pictures we've seen of these royal
personages anyhow. The other day when Pop and I were coming home from
the bank in a handsome cab we passed a carriage with the Prince of
Whales in it. He's going to be King some day if he has luck and he
didn't look any more like a Prince than Sandboys. I've seen Sandboys
look a great sight more hortier than he did, and as for the feathers
he's always said to wear he didn't have a feather about him. I guess
we've got Indians at home that can give him points on feathers and not
half try.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
But I tell you you can tell Americans every time even if you can't tell
a Prince or a Duke from a hotel-keeper. I was sitting in the office the
other day looking at the hotel elevator. They have two of 'em in every
hotel because one of 'em seems to be out of order, and a lady came up to
me and said she guessed from my spockling black eyes I was a little
Italian boy, and I said "Nit," and then she knew right away that I was
one of those bad American boys without any manners, but I didn't care
and I mayn't have good manners, but I don't wear a beaver hat the way
her boy did. It's the funniest thing you ever saw how the kids over here
go into beavers as soon as they cut their teeth, and sailor collars. I
thought I'd die when I saw that lady's son get into the elevator with
his beaver and sailor collar on and a little coat that Pop says is
called a Eatin' jacket that stops at his waist so's to make it handy to
spank him. I found out afterwards though that he was a great sight
better than he looked. When his Ma said my manners was bad he sort of
looked up in the air and winked at the roof of the elevator and I had it
in for him when I met him alone in the hall. I thought he'd be easy but
he wasn't. I knocked his hat off but I had to stop there because while
he had good manners enough when his mother was around he didn't have any
when he was alone in the hall with me and I tell you we had a time of it
until Pop came along and pulled us apart. There wasn't much damage done
except to his beaver hat and we made it up afterwards and I sort of like
him next to you. When he heard that I'd saved up and had almost three
shillings he told me about a fine place near the hotel where they had
tarts for sale and my what a gorge we did have on buns.
Since I wrote you about the town we've seen quite a lot of things but
I've been kind of disappointed in 'em. We went to the British Museum the
other day and I expected to see walruses and British Lions and John
Bulls and unicorns and things like that but they didn't have anything
worth looking at except mummies. There was some Elgin marbles Pop was
anxious to see and I wanted to see 'em too because I'm fond of marbles
but when we came to them they weren't our kind of marbles at all, only
statchuary and great big slabs of figures with broken noses and things
like that. There wasn't a thing in the whole place to compare with the
circus museums we have at home except the mummies and they were fine,
though there wasn't a live one in the place. We saw the mummy of
Cleopatra who used to be the Queen of Egypt about a million years ago,
and I must say if she looked like that I'm glad I wasn't alive then.
Bogie men aren't in it with people like Cleopatra. She was a fearful
looking lady but it was fun looking at her mummy and thinking how she'd
been a Queen once and now wasn't anything but a side show to a museum.
It sort of makes you satisfied to be a plain American with nothing ahead
of you but being President when you think how the Kings and Queens of
those times weren't allowed to keep quiet in their sarcophaguses, as
they call the boxes mummies are buried in, but have to be trotted out to
amuse people. Pop says it's an outrage to disturb a lady like that and I
agree with him. I'd hate like anything to be hauled out for a museum a
thousand years from now and have people look at me and say O my. That
Bob Drake! I thought he was a better looking boy than that. But after
all it's the only kind of circus these English boys have and I suppose
it's better than none. Pop says they don't know what a three ringed
circus is over here and I'm sorry for them, though I must say the
circuses home in New York every year are making me cross-eyed trying to
see all that is going on at once.
To-morrow we're going out to the Zoo, and next time I write to you I
hope to tell you all about it. Somehow or other I expect great things
from the Zoo, but I'm afraid that after we get there we'll find that it
isn't a bit like the Zoos we are used to. It'll probably be made up of a
lot of books and old pictures instead of interesting things like
monkeys.
Yours ever,
BOB.
[Illustration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]
The seventh annual in-door games of the New England Interscholastic
Athletic Association, under the auspices of the Boston Athletic
Association, were held a week ago Saturday in Mechanics' Hall, Boston.
The games were very interesting and exciting, and unusually well
contested. About three hundred personal entries were had from schools
scattered throughout Massachusetts and other New England States, and
fully 4000 people were present as spectators. This is a record both for
competitors and spectators which no scholastic meeting in this city has
ever approached.
It was evident from the outset that the race for points was to be close.
Four schools--English High, Hopkinson's, Worcester High, and Worcester
Academy--were out in earnest for the big championship shield, but
English High succeeded in carrying off the shield by one point, getting
17-3/5 points to Worcester Academy's 16-3/5.
[Illustration: M. C. O'BRIEN.]
Three new records were made, one was equalled, and one established.
O'Brien, E. H.-S., put the 16-pound shot 37 feet 3-1/2 inches, which is
7-1/2 inches better than his performance of 1895; and Mills of Berkeley
took one-fifth of a second off the record for the 1000-yard run. The
chief record-breaker, however, was W. M. Robinson, of Worcester Academy.
He ran in the 40 and 300 yard distances, and won both. In the first
event he ran three heats in record time, 4-4/5 sec., which is within
one-fifth of a second of the world's record. In the longer distance he
lowered W. D. Fuller's record of last year by one second, the new time
being 35-1/5 sec. This young man will surely be heard from when he gets
into college.
INTERSCHOLASTIC IN-DOOR GAMES OF THE B. A. A., MARCH 21, 1896.
Event. Performance. Winner.
40-yard dash 4-4/5 sec. W. M. Robinson, Worcester
Academy.
300-yard run 35-1/5 " W. M. Robinson, Worcester
Academy
600-yard run 1 m. 27-1/5 " R. F. Hanson, English
High-School.
1000-yard run 2 " 33 " E. W. Mills, Berkeley.
45-yard low hurdles 5-4/5 " R. C. Seaver, Brookline
High-School.
Half-mile walk 3 " 33-3/5 " A. L. O'Toole, English
High-School.
Running high jump 5 ft. 6 in. A. N. Rice, Noble's.
Pole vault 9 " 10 " B. Johnson, Worcester
Academy.
Putting 16-lb. shot 37 " 3-1/2 " M. C. O'Brien, English
High-School.
Table of Points[2]
Firsts. Seconds. Thirds. Total.
English High 3 1/5 2-1/5 17-3/5
Worcester Academy 3 1/5 1-1/5 16-3/5
Hopkinson 2-1/5 1-1/5 5-3/5
Noble's 1 1/5 1/5 5-3/5
Worcester High 2 1 5
Berkeley 1 5
Brookline 1 5
Phillips Andover 1-1/5 1-1/5 3-3/5
Cambridge H. and L. 1 1 3
Cushing Academy 1 2
Chauncy Hall 1 2
Medford High 1 1
[2] Firsts count 5; seconds, 2; thirds, 1.
The games opened with the 40-yard dash. Contrary to custom, the second
men in the preliminary heats were to be given a chance in the
semi-finals. Perhaps this accounted for the unusual amount of spirit
shown. Four men equalled the record, 4-4/5 seconds, and Robinson of
Worcester Academy did it three times. It looked as though the record
would have to break in the final heat, with so many fliers, and every
one was standing up to see it done, for that is the only record that has
not been broken since the games were instituted, and to lower it by a
fifth meant to equal the world's record. The six sprinters got off
together, and kept well bunched all the way, except Robinson, who
sneaked ahead at the 20-yard mark, and finished two yards in front of
the field.
A double line of competitors took their places to start in the 1000-yard
run. It was seven times around the track to the finish, but the racing
began at the crack of the pistol. George Dow took the pole, with E. W.
Mills, of Berkeley School, and W. F. Porter, of Chauncy Hall, close
behind, and D. T. Sullivan, of Worcester High, running fifth or sixth.
On the third lap Mills and Porter both passed Dow, and Sullivan, who had
been playing a waiting game, dropped out with a broken shoe-lace. This
was a severe blow to the chances of Worcester High, who has held the
championship shield for two years. There was apparently some
understanding between Mills and Porter, for when they once got in front
of Dow they ran side by side, and thereby easily kept him behind. At the
last turn Mills and Porter made a dash for the tape, and Mills got there
first by a scant six inches, taking one-fifth of a second off the
record. Dow made third, with the rest twenty yards behind.
When Delaney was debarred from the walk, O'Toole was looked upon as a
sure winner. At the crack of the pistol he, with Rudickhauser and Mohan,
all three for E.H.-S., started to the front. They profited by the
example of Mills and Porter, and kept all spurters well behind them. On
the last lap, however, Mohan and Rudickhauser were both ruled off, and
then A. Lockwood, of Worcester Academy, who had been trying for three
minutes to get by the bunch, worked himself abreast of O'Toole, and
furnished a most exciting finish. It would have been a dead heat except
that Lockwood broke into a run in almost his last step. He was ruled
out, as was Malletts of Boston Latin, who had been at his heels
throughout the race. Then G. Thacher, of Hopkinson, crossed the line,
and was very much surprised to learn that he was second.
About this time excitement began to show itself in the English High and
Worcester Academy sections. Worcester had 6 points, and English High 5,
with Worcester High out of the reckoning. English High was sure of the
shot, and Worcester was sure of the pole vault; while the 300 and 600
were in grave doubt, and the hurdles and high jump were conceded to
other schools.
The 300-yard trials were run next, and the final of that event furnished
the best race of the day. It was another case of Carleton _vs._
Robinson. Robinson had the advantage of position on the scratch, and
took the pole. At every turn it seemed as if Carleton would pass him,
but each time Robinson spurted just a little more, and held the place.
At the last corner Carleton made a grand attempt to pull out first
place, but Robinson held his own, and broke the tape a foot ahead of
Carleton, and also broke Carleton's newly made record, establishing a
new one of 35-1/5 seconds--a record that Wefers might find hard to smash
on a similar track.
The first heat of the 600 was an easy race. W. Dadnum, of Worcester
High, was first, J. J. Purtell, English High's crack, a leisurely
second, and C. Boyle, of Worcester High, third. Albertson of Worcester
High, who won the event last year, followed Purtell's example, and just
jogged around until the last lap, when he moved up to second, J. H.
Hartwell, of the other Worcester school, leading. But on the last lap
two other boys moved up too--R. F. Hanson, of English High, and Mills,
who had won the 1000. Just at the last turn they both slipped by the
napping Albertson, who awoke to the fact that he had not qualified for
the final. This was the third first place that Worcester High had
counted on which had slipped through her fingers. Another waiter was
W. A. Applegate, of Cambridge High, in the third heat. He ran sixth
until the last lap, and then, as if he had just realized that he was in
a race, tore round the corners, and pulled down the field, and finished
first. Burdan of Newton was second, and Cook of Chelsea third. With
Albertson out of the final, it looked like an easy thing for Purtell.
But there was a big spill in the first lap. Hartwell, who was leading,
fell on the third corner. Purtell, Dadnum, and Burdan fell with him.
Hanson and Boyle dodged the heap, but Applegate, who was waiting again,
wasn't affected by it. Boyle was leading now, twenty yards ahead of
Hanson. Hanson realized that for his school to get the shield this race
must be won. Slowly but surely he overhauled Boyle, and at the last turn
dove forward and came in ahead. Meanwhile Applegate was tearing through
the crowd with one of his thrilling finishes, and made third place.
Hanson's work was the pluckiest of the day.
[Illustration: R. C. SEAVER.]
In the 45-yard low-hurdle race Chauncy Seaver, of Brookline High-School,
was expected to win with ease, and he did not disappoint his friends,
although pushed hard in the final by Mason of Worcester High. As the
45-yard hurdle race over three hurdles 2 feet 6 inches high had never
been run before, Seaver was credited with the record of 5-4/5 sec. Last
year a record of 6 sec. was made for the distance over four hurdles 2
feet 6 inches high. A. N. Rice had no trouble in winning the jump with a
height of 5 feet 6 inches. Five men tied for second at 5 feet 4 inches,
drew for the cups, and divided the points. In the weight event M. C.
O'Brien put the 16-pound shot nearly five feet farther than his nearest
competitor.
The last events of the programme were the team races, the teams being
composed of four men each, one of whom ran 390 yards. In the relay race
between Worcester High and Worcester Academy the latter's team won,
doing the distance in 3 min. 20-4/5 sec, which has never been equalled
before.
The Englewood High and Hyde Park schools' dual in-door athletic meeting,
in the University of Chicago's gymnasium, resulted in an overwhelming
victory for the former, the score being 70 to 27. The figures were not
quite up to the standard of Eastern performances, but some of the
records are creditable. I give the winners only: 35-yard run--Trude,
Hyde Park High-School, 4-3/5 sec.; half-mile run--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 2
min. 15-4/5 sec.; 1-mile run--Hodgman, E.H.-S., 5 min. 12-3/5 sec.;
35-yard hurdle race--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 5-2/5 sec.; half-mile
walk--Parker, H.P.H.-S., 3 min. 50 sec.; running high jump--Thayer,
E.H.-S., 5 ft. 2-3/5 in.; standing broad jump--Flacken, E.H.-S., 9 ft. 7
in.; running broad jump--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 19 ft. 7 in.; pole vault--H.
Boyce, H.P.H.-S., 8 ft. 6 in.; putting 12-lb. shot--Flacken, E.H.-S., 36
ft. 11-1/2 in. The sixteen-lap relay race was the most exciting event on
the programme, and went to Englewood, the time being 4 min. 51 sec.
Eight men from each school took part, running in pairs for relays of two
laps.
Interest in track athletics seems to be developing very rapidly in the
West, if we may judge from the formation of new leagues and athletic
associations. What ought to prove an exceedingly important
interscholastic organization has just been started by the schools of St.
Paul and Minneapolis. It is called the Twin City Dual Interscholastic
League, and its first field-meeting will be held at the Hamline Fair
Grounds, May 29th. The events selected for the card are the 100-yard
dash, pole vault, one-mile run, 120-yard hurdle, putting shot, one-mile
bicycle, running high jump, half-mile run, throwing hammer, running
broad jump, standing high jump, standing broad jump, 220-yard hurdle,
440-yard dash, and 220-yard dash. The first place in each event will
count six points, the second three, and the third one. The school
winning the highest number of points will earn a cup, and if it succeeds
in holding it for three years it will keep the trophy.
I want to enter my usual protest against this list of events, because it
contains such absurd features as the standing jumps, and because,
apparently for no especial reason, six points are awarded to winners of
first place, instead of five points. After very careful calculations,
and after many years of experience, athletes and managers best qualified
to determine such questions have decided that five points for first
place and one point for third place make the closest ratio and the most
just. For second place the figures are still in dispute. The colleges
have adopted two, but many school associations believe that three points
show a closer relation between first and second, admitting at the same
time, however, that the ratio of three to one is not a fair one as
between second and third.
It is a difficult problem to settle; difficult and complicated enough
without having new associations coming along with new ratios. Therefore
I think that if the managers of the new Twin City League will ponder
over this situation for even a short time they will realize that if for
the sake of uniformity only it will be well for them to bring their
highest mark down to five points. As for the figure for second honors, I
am personally in favor of two points. For one reason, I believe that the
college athletes who adopted the 5-2-1 ratio did so after considerable
study of the situation, and possibly brought statistics and mathematics
into the discussion to help them.
Before the point system was in vogue, the method at the Mott Haven games
was to reckon results by firsts and seconds. Thus if Yale had four
firsts and no seconds while Harvard had one first and eight seconds,
Yale won, of course. By points (5-2-1) the score would have been in
Harvard's favor 21 to 20; or if the ratio were 5-3-1 it would have been
29 to 20! Third place was not counted unless there was a tie on firsts
and seconds; and seconds, it is evident, were only desirable in case of
a tie on firsts, for then the college with the most second-place winners
won the day.
No combination of firsts and seconds such as I have just suggested ever
came about, so far as I know; but it was figured that if any such result
ever did come about, there would be dissatisfaction in the aggregation
that took the large number of second places. It was admitted by all
that such a team--as a team--would represent a higher standard of
efficiency and development; and as the contests at Mott Haven or the
Berkeley Oval are contests among teams, and not among individuals, it
was decided that a more equable method of adjusting the score that
settles the victory must be invented. The point system was then
proposed, and those who undertook to discover what the ratio is between
athletes in competition, so as to show in figures the relative value of
one position to another in the order that the mathematical sum should
demonstrate the respective merit of each team as a body, decided that
this ratio was as five is to two and as two is to one. Their solution
may be incorrect, but it is the closest yet offered, and ought to be
accepted wherever points are used in scoring.
THE GRADUATE.
THE PUDDING STICK.
This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young
Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the
subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor.
I was finishing my last talk to you, when who should walk in but one of
the very mothers about whom I was writing. She is a darling, this old
schoolmate and friend of mine, but she is just now rather depressed in
her mind, and a good deal out of health, and this makes her fussy and
fidgety. She was very much interested in the talk about chaperonage, and
declared that she never allowed her Elsie, or her Jack or Dick either,
to go anywhere unaccompanied by an older person. "The boys agree with
me," she said, "that they have a better time when Cousin Molly goes
along than they possibly could have without her. As for me," she sighed,
"I am getting to be so nervous and melancholy that I am a kill-joy, and
I stay in my room even when we have guests at home."
In there came, with rosy cheeks and flying ribbons and the prettiest
eyes in the room, my friend's daughter Katharine. "Now," said
Katharine--and as she spoke the spring sunshine and the spring fragrance
seemed to fill the room, needing not the great bunch of daffodils she
laid upon my lap to give me a realization that spring was really
here--"I've planned everything; papa has given me the money, and you,
dear auntie, must flourish your pudding stick over mamma's head till she
consents to go away for a trip. Mamma needs a change. We girls are
giving up our new spring gowns, and making our old ones over, for this
has been a bad year in business, in papa's line at least, and we must
economize. Our gift is to fit the dear lady out becomingly. The rest of
the money will pay for her tickets, and we want her to go to Cousin
Kitty's, away off in Vermont, and be a girl again." Katharine poured
this out in a torrent, hardly pausing for breath. Her color came and
went; she was earnest and eloquent. I listened, and softly clapped my
hands.
I looked at the elder Katharine. Mamma's eyes were shining. There was a
far-away look in them, as of one who was remembering pleasant times and
scenes. "To be a girl again!" she whispered.
"You will go, won't you, dear?" I asked, anxiously.
She hesitated a second, and then said, "Yes, if you all wish it so very
much, I will take a vacation, and perhaps I'll come back very much more
like myself. I owe something to daughters who are so dear and loving,
and I _am_ tired."
We didn't dwell on the subject any longer then. On the contrary, we
spoke of Katharine's hat, and of the pretty and sensible fashion girls
have adopted of removing their hats in public places, where the great
plumed things are in the way of people's eyes. It is so easy to take off
one's hat and hold it, and the girls' bright heads look so homelike and
attractive that one is very glad for the march which common sense and
good manners have made side by side.
MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
[Illustration: HARTFORD TIRES]
Arnold
Constable & Co
* * * * *
_SPRING STYLES AND DESIGNS._
Suits & Wraps
Ladies' Walking-Dresses.
Tailor-Made Suits.
Top Coats, Capes.
_Paris styles in fancy Silk Gowns, Batiste and Grenadine Waists, Silk
Skirts, Wraps, and Garments._
_Orders for Easter Gowns and Spring Suits will receive prompt
attention._
* * * * *
Broadway & 19th st.
NEW YORK.
[Illustration: THOMPSON'S EYEWATER]
Absolutely Pure.
[Illustration: ROYAL BAKING POWDER]
The
Careful
Housewife
will use
no other.
ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., 108 WALL ST., NEW-YORK.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Little Bo Peep (she fixed her sheep
So fate could not abuse them--)
Stuck Cupid Hair Pins in their tails,
And then they couldn't lose them.
It's in the TWIST.
RICHARDSON & DELONG BROS., Philadelphia, Pa.
Makers of the famous DELONG Hook and Eye.
[Illustration]
PRINTING OUTFIT 10c.
Sets any name in one minute; prints 500 cards an hour. You can make
money with it. A font of pretty type, also Indelible Ink, Type Holder,
Pads and Tweezers. Best Linen Marker; worth $1.00. Mailed for 10c.
stamps for postage on outfit and catalogue of 1000 bargains. Same outfit
with figures 15c. Outfit for printing two lines 25c. postpaid.
Ingersoll & Bro., Dept. No. 123. 65 Cortlandt St., New York.
[Illustration: BICYCLING]
This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the
Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject. Our
maps and tours contain much valuable data kindly supplied from the
official maps and road-books of the League of American Wheelmen.
Recognizing the value of the work being done by the L.A.W., the
Editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with membership
blanks and information so far as possible.
[Illustration: Copyright, 1896, by Harper & Brothers.]
Continuing the trip from Albany to Buffalo, we leave Utica in the
morning, and proceed by what is called the old turnpike to New Hartford.
The road is moderately level, but is sandy in places, and when out of
the village limits the rider will, of course, take to the side path.
Passing through New Hartford, and taking the right fork at the western
extremity of the town, run on to Kirkland through Middle Settlement, a
distance of five and a quarter miles. Here the road for the first three
miles is moderately good, and there is a cinder side path for part of
the distance. Between Middle Settlement and Kirkland it becomes a little
more hilly, and the road changes to loam.
Running westward through Kirkland, proceed by the main turnpike to
Vernon, passing through Lairdsville, a distance altogether of eight and
a quarter miles. At Vernon do not cross the track, but keep on on the
left side, running through Oneida Castle direct into Oneida by crossing
the track, or if you intend to keep straight on do not cross the track,
but proceed direct to Canastota, six and a half miles from Oneida
Castle. Here it is possible to keep straight on to Chittenango, but the
road will be found far better if the track is crossed at Canastota and
the route as marked on the accompanying map followed, as in this way one
or two hills are avoided. Chittenango is a good place to stop for an
hour's rest if you have not already stopped at Oneida or at Canastota;
but perhaps, if the trip is to be spread over a whole day, Canastota is
the best place to stop for dinner. Leaving Chittenango, the road runs
direct to Fayetteville, eight miles from Chittenango, and thence runs
into Syracuse, passing through DeWitt. The last part of the way the
roads are rather hilly, or what is called rolling. They are in
reasonably good condition, the road-bed being of loam and gravel. On
entering Syracuse you will find yourself on East Avenue. Proceed along
this to East Genesee Street and to the Globe Hotel.
By referring to the map you will find that on the secondary or fair
bicycle roads many a side trip can be made, and the map will prove of
use to persons who may not have the Albany-Buffalo trip in mind
particularly. For example, the route is clear from Utica to Rome,
running through Whitesboro and Oriskany. In like manner it is easy,
though by a somewhat roundabout route, to get to Cazenovia. The road
running direct from Chittenango to Cazenovia is not a good one, and is
hilly. It will pay the rider, especially if he has time, to proceed to
Fayetteville, and then run down to Cazenovia, following the railroad on
the route marked on the map. A pleasant variation of the ride would be
to cross the railroad after leaving Oneida Castle, run through Oneida,
and follow the fair bicycle road out to South Bay, running along the
edge of the lake through Bridgeport, thence turning southward, passing
through Manlius, and reaching the main route at Fayetteville again.
NOTE.--Map of New York city asphalted streets in No. 809. Map of
route from New York to Tarrytown in No. 810. New York to Stamford,
Connecticut in No. 811. New York to Staten Island in No. 812. New
Jersey from Hoboken to Pine Brook in No. 813. Brooklyn in No. 814.
Brooklyn to Babylon in No. 815. Brooklyn to Northport in No. 816.
Tarrytown to Poughkeepsie in No. 817. Poughkeepsie to Hudson in No.
818. Hudson to Albany in No. 819. Tottenville to Trenton in No.
820. Trenton to Philadelphia in No. 821. Philadelphia in No. 822.
Philadelphia-Wissahickon Route in No. 823. Philadelphia to West
Chester in No. 824. Philadelphia to Atlantic City--First Stage in
No. 825; Second Stage in No. 826. Philadelphia to Vineland--First
Stage in No. 827; Second Stage in No. 828. New York to
Boston--Second Stage in No. 829; Third Stage in No. 830; Fourth
Stage in No. 831; Fifth Stage in No. 832; Sixth Stage in No. 833.
Boston to Concord in No. 834. Boston in No. 835. Boston to
Gloucester in No. 836. Boston to Newburyport in No. 837. Boston to
New Bedford in No. 838. Boston to South Framingham in No. 839.
Boston to Nahant in No. 840. Boston to Lowell in No. 841. Boston to
Nantasket Beach in No. 842. Boston Circuit Ride in No. 843.
Philadelphia to Washington--First Stage in No. 844; Second Stage in
No. 845; Third Stage in No. 846; Fourth Stage in No. 847; Fifth
Stage in No. 848. City of Washington in No. 849. City of Albany in
No. 854; Albany to Fonda in No. 855; Fonda to Utica in No. 856.
[Illustration: STAMPS]
This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin
collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question
on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address
Editor Stamp Department.
I am frequently asked by Round Table correspondents whether it would be
a good speculation to buy the lower values of the Columbian issue, which
are still on sale at many post-offices. I always answer No! for any
values less than the 50c. All the dealers and speculators and a large
number of collectors have loaded themselves down with these stamps.
However great the demand, the supply will be ample. Everybody is alive
to the value of stamps to-day, but eight years ago it was quite
different. _Then_ was the time to buy; but how few availed themselves of
the opportunity. Compare the prices of to-day with those of 1888:
1888. 1896.
Set State Department, unused, $49.50 $287.00
" Exec. " " 6.00 49.00
" Navy " " 5.00 40.00
" Agri. " " 3.50 27.65
" 1870 Grille, " 21.30 216.00
1861 3c. Pink, " .25 25.00
1869 Set, " 9.95 87.85
1870 12c. Grille, " 2.50 75.00
" 24c. " " 5.00 100.00
Not only U.S. stamps, but the higher value stamps of almost every other
country have advanced in similar ratio. It is the old story over
again--"Buy when every one wants to sell, and sell when every one wants
to buy." It sounds as easy as "Buy cheap and sell dear"; but how hard it
is in practice.
R. PARHAM.--No premium.
EDITH F. MORRIS, 95 Third Avenue, New York city, wishes to exchange
stamps.
O. T. ALDRICH.--The editor of this Department is not a dealer in
either stamps or coins.
E. HILL.--It is impossible to give any general rule for the
detection of the thousands of different counterfeits. In general
terms it may be said that to-day only the valuable stamps are
counterfeited. Formerly (1862 to 1880) even common stamps were
counterfeited. My advice to young collectors is not to buy valuable
stamps from irresponsible persons. Go to a responsible dealer for
this class of stamps. Some counterfeits are so well made that only
an expert can detect them.
E. L. SNYDER.--The prices quoted are those at which you can buy
from dealers.
C. H. PECK.--The 5c. 1847 U.S. is worth 70c.
G. S. VAN SCHAICK.--There are no grilled U.S. post-cards.
A. D. F.--No premium on the coins mentioned.
E. C. WOOD.--Adhesive U. S. Revenues were first used in 1862.
Periodical stamps have usually come over from Europe. See ROUND
TABLE, March 10, 1896.
CLARENCE G. MICHAELIS, 3 North Twenty-first Street, East Orange,
N.J., wishes to exchange stamps.
J. S. GREEN.--The Japanese stamp is still in use. The colonial and
continental money are still plentiful, and can be bought in most
instances for 10c. or 15c. each.
R. Q. P.--The stamps described are Revenue stamps.
C. S. POMEROY.--There are three minute varieties of the 3c. green
U.S. There are three varieties in the triangles of the present
stamps. See ROUND TABLE, May 14, 1895.
F. H. CULBERTSON.--The U. S. currency 3c. to 50c. can be bought at
double face. Circulated or crumpled copies are worth face only.
T. EBAUGH.--I cannot repeat prices on lists of U.S. coins. See
ROUND TABLE for December 17, 1895, and January 14, 1896. English
coins are not collected in this country. The stamp is a French
revenue. No value. The coin is Spanish, worth 25c.
MAX BECKER.--"Post Obitum" U.S. stamp of 1877 is worth $4. Grilled
stamps are those stamps bearing an impression in blank stamp which
is designed to cut the fibre of the paper, such as the 1868 U.S.,
the Peruvian 1874, etc. Stamps issued by a province of a State are
called "provincial issues."
E. L.--Spanish coin worth its weight in silver only.
N. D. HOLLER.--The Peru is an envelope stamp cut square. The Mexico
is a seal, not a stamp.
M. ELSBERG.--The Buda-Pesth post-cards are good for postage only
when printed on the regular government post-cards.
C. BECKLY.--Your coin is Grecian, over 2000 years old. It is
common. The blackness is caused by oxydization or rust.
A. L. GREENE.--Nevada 5c. stamp is worth 25c.
H. W. F.--There is no 6c. 1858 Canada. If you mean sixpence, it is
worth $5. The U.S. stamps are worth from 8c. to 50c. apiece. We do
not give addresses, etc., of dealers in this column. Any dealer
will send you a circular of U.S. stamps.
KARL WETHERBEE.--The 3d. New South Wales 1806 is worth $1.50. The
1861 U.S. 12c. is worth 25c. The half-cent 1804 is worth $4, if in
good condition.
J. HULL.--Condition counts for everything in rare stamps. At the
last great auction sale an unused New Brunswick shilling sold for
$80. A used copy (comparatively common) sold for $110. The unused
had small, and the used large margins.
PHILATUS.
* * * * *
Wonderful Florida Springs.
I live on the east bank of the famous Ocklawaha River, six miles
from the wonderful Silver Springs. The waters of the springs are
clear, and the beautiful shining bottom is plainly seen, while
numerous varieties of fish swim and dive into the deep sink-holes.
One of these sinks is fifty feet deep, and many are evidently
connected in a continuous chain of sinks that are found between
this place and Ocala in the pine woods.
We had a good laugh over the story of "Kizner's Pet Sheep."
PERCY F. LISK.
CONNER, FLA.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
Chosen by the
Government
[Illustration]
The War Department proposes to test the bicycle thoroughly for army use,
and recently advertised for proposals for furnishing five bicycles for
the purpose. Result: Bids from $50 to $85 each for other machines; our
bid of $100 each for Columbias, their invariable price. And the
Government selected
[Illustration: Columbia]
Bicycles
STANDARD OF THE WORLD
The experts who made the choice decided that Columbias were worth every
dollar of the $100 asked for them.
If you are willing to pay $100 for a bicycle, why be content with
anything but a Columbia?
POPE MANUFACTURING CO., Hartford, Conn.
[Illustration: THOMPSON'S EYEWATER]
WALTER BAKER & CO., limited.
Established Dorchester, Mass., 1780.
Breakfast Cocoa
[Illustration]
Always ask for Walter Baker & Co.'s
Breakfast Cocoa
Made at
DORCHESTER, MASS.
It bears their Trade Mark
"La Belle Chocolatiere" on every can.
Beware of Imitations.
[Illustration]
LAUGHING CAMERA. 10c.
The latest invention in Cameras. You look through the lens and your
stout friends will look like living skeletons, your thin friends like
Dime Museum fat men, horses like giraffes, and in fact everything
appears as though you were living in another world. Each camera contains
two strong lenses in neatly finished leather case. The latest
mirth-maker on the market; creates bushels of sport. Catalogue of 1,000
novelties and sample camera 10c., 3 for 25c., mailed postpaid. Agents
wanted.
Robert H. Ingersoll & Bro.,
Dept. No. 27. 65 Cortlandt St., New York.
[Illustration]
THE
BALTIMOREAN PRINTING-PRESS
has earned more money for boys than all other presses in the market.
Boys, don't idle away your time when you can buy a self-inking
printing-press, type, and complete outfit for $5.00. Write for
particulars, there is money in it for you.
THE J. F. W. DORMAN CO.,
Baltimore, Md., U.S.A
Postage Stamps, &c.
[Illustration]
=300= fine mixed Victoria, Cape of G. H., India, Japan, etc., with fine
Stamp Album, only =10c.= New 80-p. Price-list =free=. _Agents wanted_ at
=50%= commission. STANDARD STAMP CO., 4 Nicholson Place, St. Louis, Mo.
Old U. S. and Confederate Stamps bought.
GOLD FREE!
Grand Prize Contest! 112 var. So. Am., West Indies, U. S., etc. A
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Rugby Stamp Co., 4465 Greer Ave., St. Louis, Mo.
=STAMPS.= Confederate free if you send for our Approval Sheets at 50 per
cent. commission. Enclose 2c. stamp, and give reference.
DIAMOND STAMP CO., Germantown, Pa.
$117.50 WORTH OF STAMPS FREE
to agents selling stamps from my 50% approval sheets. Send at once for
circular and price-list giving full information.
C. W. Grevning, Morristown, N. J.
125
dif. Gold Coast, Costa Rica, etc., 25c.; 40 U. S., 25c. Liberal com. to
agents. Large bargain list free. F. W. MILLER, 904 Olive St., St. Louis,
Mo.
STAMP DEALERS.
Agents w't'd at =50%= com.
W. SAAM, 1708 Amsterdam Ave., N. Y. City.
STAMPS! 100 all dif. Barbados, etc. Only 10c. Ag'ts w't'd at 50% com.
List free. L. DOVER & CO., 1469 Hodiamont, St. Louis, Mo.
Writing Letters.
II.
This series of articles on letter-writing is addressed to the Knights,
but others may look over their shoulders and profit by the hints.
Use good stationery--that is, paper and envelopes of white or tint.
Avoid gaudy designs. If you can afford an embossed monogram, have it
small. If you have any printing at all on your paper have it embossed,
preferably in dark blue, and modest, plain letters. But it is not at all
necessary that stationery be embossed. Good form does not require it.
What we urge you to avoid using are leaves torn from a memorandum-book,
unsized paper that is made of straw, gaudy envelopes too large for the
paper, and some firm's letter or note headings. Stationery is
inexpensive. Better write only two letters a year and have them worthy
of you than to write a hundred on ill-fitting and ill-finished paper.
When you begin a letter, do it with your street, number, city, and
State. Then follow with the date. Have the last-named correct. Don't
guess at it, and don't knowingly date your letters back, in order to
make your correspondent think you have answered more promptly than you
have. By such an act you utter an untruth. Besides, your deception is
almost always seen and noted.
If you live in a small town, give the State. We receive many letters
from people who do not observe this common-sense rule. We find your
letter dated "Mount Vernon." The post-mark oh the envelope is
indistinct. We look in the Postal Guide--an effort for you that you have
no right to put your correspondent to, and one he might have been saved
had you written your letter as you should have done--and there find
twenty-four Mount Vernons! Then you wonder why you receive no reply!
If you live in a large city, give street and number every time you
write. It does not matter if the postman lives next door to you and
brings you everything directed to your name. How do your correspondents
know that? We do not like to post a valuable letter addressed to "John
Smith, Chicago, Ill." He may get it, but we have misgivings. And then,
because you gave your address in one letter, don't say: "Oh, he knows
where I live. I gave my address in my letter of last week." Yes, so you
did, and the letter of last week is filed away where it will take
trouble and time to find it, and get from it information that you ought
to have given.
* * * * *
The Florida Seminoles.
Since my short article on "Biscayne Bay and its Marvels" was
published I have received several letters requesting me to write
all I know about southern Florida and the Everglades.
The Seminole Indians are a great attraction during the winter to
the southeast coast of Florida. During the summer they traverse the
wilds of the Everglades in search of game, which they sell during
the winter to the winter visitors at West Palm Beach. The squaws
have been busy making moccasins and leggings, and the bucks have
been skinning and tanning the hides of deer, alligators, and other
game.
The Seminoles, or most of them, are very fond of strong drink, or
"wyomie," as it is called in Indian parlance. Many of them can
write their names, and some can write notes. They are becoming more
civilized in their mode of dress. Here is a note one Indian wrote.
I give it as a specimen.
NOVEMBER 20, '95.
Whiskey Man, Sir, I tell you, you whiskey man, you good man, sir,
you likes me, and my name, Jackson Charlie. Me send whiskey, big
quart whiskey. See you 6th next month; me come see you; me pay you
$1.25. Me sell you buckskin, smoking skin.
JACKSON CHARLIE.
The Seminoles own their farms. One of their camps is a very
interesting object. They kill and smoke deer-meat, tan the hides,
and sell them. There was an Indian school recently established on
the east coast. It will be a great benefit if it is continued. One
of the interesting Indians at Palm Beach is Little Tom Tiger. Last
spring he was cut in the forehead by a bottle hurled at his head by
a bad Indian. His father, old Tommie Jumper, dressed the wound and
told him he must not touch a drop of wyomie for ten months. When he
is spoken to about it, he will count the ten months on his fingers
and say, "Ten months soon be up, and I drink wyomie again."
HARRY R. WHITCOMB.
UMATILLA, FLA.
* * * * *
Amateur Newspaper Makers.
How familiar this sounds: Louis O. Brosie, publisher of the _Little
Magnet_, Pittsburg, says that when he began his paper, two years ago, he
sent out 100 sample copies, expecting to get from them a large number of
subscriptions. Instead he got four. People were afraid to pay their
money, expecting the paper would last only a few months. But Sir Louis
triumphed at last. He got subscriptions and advertisements, and expects
to continue his paper. He printed a Good Will Mite, and some months ago
sent us $2. He now prints 500 copies.
William C Meintzer, Easton, Md., wants to join an amateur press
association, especially one in Maryland. To do the latter he should
write to the secretary of the Maryland Club of the N. A. P. A., G.
Edward Harrison, 708 Fidelity Building, Baltimore, who is president,
vice-president, or secretary of half a dozen or so other amateur clubs,
and wants to make the acquaintance of other Baltimore and Maryland
members of the Order. E. M. Wallace, Monmouth, Ill., wants to hear from
publishers of amateur newspapers.
_Wheat Sheaf Leaflets_ is the name of a new quarterly which we have
received bearing the compliments of the scholars and teachers of Wheat
Sheaf School, the names of those teachers being Misses A. C. Cocker and
Elizabeth Baillie. The paper, a neat eight-page one, is filled with
letters written to the Priscilla Chapter, formed of pupils of the
school, preceded by a song and an explanation of what the Chapter is.
Modesty forbids the editors, but it does not forbid us, saying that the
Priscilla is among the very best Chapters in the Order, whose work in
the way of correspondence, collections, etc, has been helpful and
practical. The price of _Leaflets_ is five cents a copy, and its address
is Wheat Sheaf School, Frankford, Philadelphia, Pa.
* * * * *
A Very Clever Kink.
Two men declared they could name the prettiest rural drive in all
England. The dispute waxing warm, they agreed to write out the route
each thought to be the prettiest and hand their respective slips of
paper to a third party. They did this, and when the disinterested third
party, in the presence of the disputants and a few of their respective
friends, opened the sealed papers it was found that one had written:
"Coventry to Stratford-on-Avon, by the way of Kenilworth, Leamington,
and Warwick." And the other: "Stratford-on-Avon to Coventry, by the way
of Warwick, Leamington, and Kenilworth."
Of course a general laugh followed, but when it subsided, one disputant,
a little piqued that he had not won beyond further cavil, remarked with
some warmth that he could name to the other disputant and his friends
there present the amount of a certain nobleman's fortune, doing so in
plain terms, in no enigmatical phrase, and yet they, in thirty minutes'
time, could not name the amount in pounds sterling. Everybody present
knew the nobleman mentioned, and all were desirous of learning the
amount of his wealth--a sum which the speaker, through supposed business
relations, was thought to be in a position to know.
Challenged to name the sum, the man read the following, from _Macbeth_,