into line. Torches were lit. A host of boys set up shrill yells. Joe and
Elsie were twitched into place by energetic Mr. Hill, and ordered to
hold up their heads and keep time to the music.
"Isn't it fun?" thought Elsie, stepping briskly along, and grasping her
torch with both hands.
If one hundred torches were "fun," what could be said when they reached
Market Square, where the grand procession was to form, and where there
was a blaze of light such as Elsie had never imagined! Bands were
playing, horses were prancing; some one set fire to a sort of powder,
and, lo! the whole street was rosy red.
Now everything was ready, and the march began. Whole blocks on each side
were festooned with bunting and Chinese lanterns; candles twinkled in
every pane; all the gas-burners did their best; Roman candles shot out
colored stars; rockets went up with a fizz.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" The procession was pausing in front of a big
house. Somebody was making a speech. Nobody could understand half he
said. No matter. "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Elsie shouted with the rest,
and trotted gayly on.
"No reason in the world I shouldn't have come, like any other boy!
Hurrah!"
Up one street and down another, each more brilliant than the last, Elsie
marched on, till suddenly a small, then a larger, pain began to make
itself felt in one of her feet.
"It's my new boots," said she to herself. "Why didn't I change them?
I'll stamp hard and then I shall be easy."
But somehow she was not easy. Up one street, down another. It was not so
much a pain in one particular spot now as a general ache, not only in
her foot, but in her whole body.
"I'm afraid I'm growing tired."
She glanced at Joe. That worthy was in high spirits, and apparently as
fresh as ever. Elsie limped bravely on. Across an open space the
procession wheeled, and halted again to drink lemonade out of big tubs
on the sidewalk. Elsie ventured to complain to Joe.
"Oh, cheer up!" was all the comfort he had for her. "We've marched 'most
half the distance now."
"'Most half the distance!" Why, Elsie could never hold out if that were
the case. Once more she struggled on. It seemed as if she had been
marching for years and years--ever since she was a baby. She could not
drag herself another inch. In the midst of a cheer she crept up a flight
of steps, and sank down.
"I'll wait a few minutes, and then run fast, and catch Joe again,"
thought she.
The next moment, as it seemed, she heard two voices near her.
"The party must be hard up that has to take babies like this to help on
their cause," said one.
"Poor little fellow!" answered the other--a lady. "He's dropped down,
torch and all, and gone to sleep."
Elsie started and looked around her. Where was the procession? Where was
Joe? Too terrified to say a word, up the street she rushed, gazing
wildly on this side and on that. No Joe did she see; no procession
either. It would have been quite dark but for the street lamps.
"I must stop somewhere. I must ask some one for Joe."
At a house smaller than the others she paused, and rang the bell. There
was a confused sound of talking within.
"Don't you open that door as you value your life, Phoebe Maria," said
some one in shrill tones. "Us all alone! This time of night! It's
tramps, sure!"
Then Phoebe Maria called through the key-hole, "Go right away. I
sha'n't let you in if you stop there till midnight. De-part!"
I think if the word "de-_part_" had not sounded so very ponderous, Elsie
would have called back that she was no tramp. As it was, she ran blindly
on.
"Mother! mother!" she sobbed, wringing her little cold hands. But no one
answered. A clock near by tolled nine, ten, eleven. Two drops of rain
fell. The wind rustled drearily among the tree-tops.
Steps sounded near. A tall man approached, and Elsie caught the gleam of
brass buttons.
"What are you doing here, boy?" demanded the newcomer, in a great bass
voice.
"I'm not a boy," cried Elsie. "I never was a boy in all my life. I'm
Elsie Baker. I want to go home."
She quite broke down, and wept piteously.
"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed the man, who was one of the police. "Where is
your home?"
"Out at Porter's Corner. Joe brought me to the percession. I wish he
hadn't. I wish-- Oh dear, dear me!"
"Now here's a pretty mess!" said the policeman. "There's nothing for it
but to take charge o' you to-night, and see how we can manage to-morrow.
You come along with me."
Finding the child too exhausted to walk, he picked her up, and tramped
off down in town with his burden. Where did he carry her?
To tell the truth, there seemed to be no other place, and he took her to
the public "lock-up."
Elsie was too worn and spent to mind; too hungry was she not to devour
eagerly the bit of salt fish and hard cracker which her new friend gave
her; then forgetting her woes, she fell asleep once more, safely wrapped
in his warm overcoat.
But, in the morning, waking in a strange place, all the terror of last
night came upon her once more. Through an open door she darted like a
startled hare, and when No. 11 came, an hour later, to find her, no
child was visible. All that was left was the small rubber cape with its
red collar.
"I must find some cars," thought Elsie. "I can't get home unless I find
some cars."
It must have been her guardian angel who led the little girl, for, as
she walked hastily along, right in front of her loomed up a big
building, in and out of which locomotives were running.
"Would you please point out the train for Porter's Corner?" said Elsie,
tremblingly approaching a man who was pushing round some trunks.
"Bless you! you're at the wrong station for that, sissy or bubby,
whichever you be," said the man, glancing from the girl's dress to the
boy's cap. "But there," added he, as the brown eyes filled with tears,
"a gravel train's just going across the city to the Eastern Dépôt. Come
with me, and I'll take you there."
Down the track Elsie rode, perched on a heap of gravel.
"I cal'late you've got a ticket for Porter's Corner?" said her
companion.
Here was fresh trouble. No ticket had she, and, what was worse, not a
penny to buy one.
"You don't mean to say you're going to _steal_ a ride!" exclaimed the
man.
Very likely this was meant for a joke, but Elsie took it for sober
earnest. She had been called a "tramp" last night; now she was taken for
a thief. It was too dreadful. She looked here and there, if perchance
there might be some way of escape from all this misery, and
suddenly--why!--what?--that boy on the platform of the Eastern
Dépôt--could it be?
"Joe! Joe!" shrieked Elsie.
It was Joe: a very wretched Joe, a Joe who had not slept a wink all
night, though he had gone home in a vain hope he might find the missing
sister there.
He saw Elsie. He sprang toward her. He clambered on the car almost
before it stopped. He hugged her, he kissed her. Boy though he was, he
wept great tears over her. Then he took her by both shoulders and shook
her.
"Oh, you bad girl! Where have you been? You've frightened mother 'most
to death. Elsie, Elsie, what _made_ you come to Portland?"
"You brought me, Joe," said Elsie, humbly.
Home they went, those two. At the Porter's Corner station they found
every man and woman of the village, and to each severally must Elsie
tell her story. Her mother never said a word. She only clasped Elsie
tighter and tighter, while the tears streamed down her cheeks.
But Joe!--oh, Joe did talking enough for all. The lofty sentiments that
flowed from the lips of that virtuous youth were truly refreshing. His
own share in last night's adventures had quite slipped his mind. He felt
called upon, as "the man of the family," to exhort his sister at length
in regard to her manners and morals.
"And now, Elsie Baker," he ended, "I hope you see why girls can't do as
boys do. I could have marched for a week and not been tired. I hope
you'll remember this the next time you want to tag on when I'm going
anywhere."
And Elsie was actually so tired that she hadn't the spirit to answer a
word.
[Illustration: SCANDAL.]
SCANDAL.
"What do you think?"
"I'm sure I don't know!"
"Don't tell anybody!"
"Oh no! oh no!"
"Somebody told me
That some one else said
That so and so told them
(You won't tell what I said?")
"Oh no! I won't tell.
What is it? Oh dear!
The way that you tell it,
Is really so queer!"
"Oh yes! But have patience,
I'll tell you in time;
But I have to make it
All fit into rhyme.
Now don't tell anybody,
Because, if you do,
My secrets, the next time,
I'll not tell to you."
[Illustration: GOING TO SCHOOL.]
GOING TO SCHOOL.
Slowly to school, slowly they went--
_His_ eyes on his book were downward bent;
_She_ looked on the ground as they went along,
But neither looked willing to sing a song.
_She_ was thinking of pudding and jam,
_He_ was spelling Seringapatam.
Oh for a kite, or a top, or a ball,
Battledore, shuttlecock, hoop, and all!
[Illustration: THE BIRD-CATCHER.]
THE BIRD-CATCHER.
Laurence has set such a wonderful trap,
It has a long string, and goes to with a snap;
He has carefully scattered some grains of corn,
And see! there's a bird coming over the lawn;
Away it comes chirruping, chirping, and hopping;
Into the trap it will soon be popping!
Helen and Gisha take part in the sport,
It is so exciting to see a bird caught!
[Illustration: THE LITTLE WALK.]
THE LITTLE WALK.
Oh, dear me! what a great big hat!
Suppose we were all to wear hats like that!
And see Mab's bonnet and peacock plume--
I hope her head will find plenty of room!
But Mab is kind, and gives Baby a ride,
The Baby that wears the hat so wide.
They won't have to walk too far or too long,
Unless sister Mab is uncommonly strong,
For Baby looks heavy, and so does her hat--
The Baby who's sucking her fingers so fat!
[Illustration: RIGHT OF WAY.]
"RIGHT OF WAY."
"Baa, baa, there's no road this way!"
"Pretty sheep, do let me pass, I say,
It's too late to go back again to-day;
Nice little sheep, please do go away!"
"Baa, baa, we won't let you by;
It's no use for you to begin to cry.
You can't come this road--no, not if you try,
And never mind asking the reason why."
[Illustration]
THE NURSERY CHAIR.
Edith sits up in her chair so high;
How busy she looks with her down-bent eye!
What is she doing? Can you not guess?
With her little bare feet, and her little night-dress.
She is plucking the raisins so rich and so nice
From out of her cake that is flavored with spice.
[Illustration: AN UNINVITED VISITOR.]
AN UNINVITED VISITOR.
Rosie was breakfasting out on the grass,
When two pigs on a walking tour happened to pass.
One pig with rude manners came boldly in front,
And first gave a stare, and then gave a grunt,
As much as to say, "What is that you have got?
Just let me have a taste out of your pot."
But Rosie said, "Go away, horrid old pig!
_I_ am so little, and _you_ are so big!"
[Illustration]
SKIPPING.
Airily, airily, skip away:
Set to work, all of you, trip away!
Over your head, and under your toes,
That's the way the merry rope goes!
Aprons flap in the breezy air;
Fly away, lessons, this holiday fair!
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
NEW YORK CITY.
I have a little girl who has derived a great deal of pleasure from
YOUNG PEOPLE. She has had every number since the beginning, and
when through with them she sends them to children who are too poor
to buy papers.
Perhaps some of the readers of this paper could amuse themselves
by trying to form a word--said to be the only one possible in the
English language--from the following combination of letters:
H E C S T Y.
S.
* * * * *
DRESDEN, GERMANY.
My dear companion-readers of YOUNG PEOPLE, let me tell you
something about Dresden, the capital of Saxony, in which city I now
live. Dresden is situated on the Elbe--a river of about one-seventh
the size of the Hudson. The city is sometimes called Elb-Florence,
as it contains picture-galleries, museums, nice architectural
buildings, squares, theatres, and handsomely built churches. The
Prager See and the Schloss Strasse are the most crowded streets,
and as I am living on the first one, I enjoy seeing all the
passers-by from my lofty stone balcony. Many good concerts are
given here, and in the summer season the open-air concerts are
visited by all the best people of Dresden.
The city has many lovely promenades and parks. The Zoological
Garden is a gem, and wild and tame animals of all kinds may be
seen there. Very often queer people, such as Esquimaux, Indians,
Nubians, and Hindoos, come to Dresden, and have an exhibition, and
many strangers may be seen in the streets. To-day the Chevalier
Blondin, the celebrated tight-rope walker, created a great
sensation, and many people attended his daring performance,
rewarding his dangerous and difficult feats with enthusiastic
applause.
I like YOUNG PEOPLE very much. The new serial, "Who was Paul
Grayson?" by Mr. Habberton, is excellent. Many of the incidents
remind me of some I myself have witnessed. I remember the
school-boy fights, and the teasing of new scholars. The other
stories are also very interesting, and the jokes are sometimes
capital. I like the cuts very much, and I hope both those and
YOUNG PEOPLE--may it flourish for a long time!--will always remain
as nice as now.
LOUIS G. E.
* * * * *
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND.
I wish to tell the boys and girls that take this beautiful little
paper about our sesquicentennial, or the one-hundred-and-fiftieth
anniversary of Baltimore. On Monday, October 11, the procession
illustrated the history of Baltimore. In one wagon was an Indian
scene, to represent Indian life. In another wagon was a large
vessel with men in it in early Spanish costume, to represent
Christopher Columbus and his crew. The Corn Exchange had several
wagons, two of which were very amusing--one had a large bull in it,
and the other a great ugly bear, which walked restlessly around the
pole to which it was chained. A florist was represented by a
beautiful garden, with trees, flowers, and grass, and right under
the tree a funny little monkey was tied. It jumped all about, and
looked very cunning, for it was very small.
Among the tableaux was a representation of Neptune drawn in a
shell by two dragons in the water. Of course it was not real
water, but it looked exactly like waves. At the other end of this
wagon was a mermaid, half out of water. It was a very beautiful
scene. Every trade was on parade, and some were working in their
wagons. The butchers were making sausages, and throwing them to
the people, and the bakers threw cakes and biscuit. The procession
was ten miles long, and it was five hours passing a given point.
On Tuesday all the different societies, and the public and private
school children, were on parade. All the houses and stores and
public buildings were decorated with black and orange--the colors
of Maryland--and with the American flag. The city looked very
bright and beautiful. I am very proud of being a Baltimore girl. I
am thirteen years old.
JESSIE H. L.
* * * * *
COOPERSBURG, KANSAS.
The first thing I read when my little paper comes is the
Post-office Box. I live on a big prairie. I have a pet kitty, and
lots of chickens and turkeys.
ADELLA T.
* * * * *
BAY CITY, MICHIGAN.
I wish some little girl would give me a good recipe for
johnny-cake. My father has offered a prize to my sister and myself
for the best johnny-cake.
MARY G.
* * * * *
COUNCIL BLUFFS, IOWA.
I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE since my seventh birthday, which was the
15th of March. I like it very much, and I want papa to take it
another year. I like the "Story of George Washington."
I have two little brothers, Fred and Walter. Fred is four years
old, and goes to a Kindergarten. Walter and I go to the public
school. We have a velocipede and a rocking-horse, but no live
pets.
LOUIS EDWIN E.
* * * * *
GRANVILLE, WISCONSIN.
I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and I like it very much indeed.
My brother Allie and I are raising two calves. Their names are
Rosa and Jim, and now when we call them they will come running.
The other day I found some very pretty stones. I carried them in
the house and put them in a tumbler filled with water, and set
them in the sun. If any little girl wishes to do this, a
large-mouthed bottle will answer as well as a tumbler; and if the
stones have bright, pretty colors, and there are some arrow flints
scattered among them, the effect when the sun shines on them is
very beautiful.
ROSE C.
* * * * *
NEW YORK CITY.
Mamma, Georgie, and Frank went fishing down to the Point yesterday,
and Georgie caught two smelts and a crab. Frank also caught two
smelts, but while they were in the basket a crow came along, and
took them both off.
JAKIE T.
* * * * *
LAKE VIEW, ILLINOIS.
I am a little girl nine years old, and I enjoy YOUNG PEOPLE very
much.
I have a great many dolls, and I have a pet parrot that is very
fond of me. He can not talk very much, but he will learn. I had a
pet cat, but it got lost.
GRACE D. C.
* * * * *
COLLAMER, NEW YORK.
I am taking YOUNG PEOPLE, and I am delighted with it.
I have two pet cats, and I have some house plants. This summer
there were some small insects at work on their roots. I wish some
one could tell me what they were.
I am taking music lessons, and like to practice very much.
I have quite a large collection of birds' eggs.
BERTHA G. M.
* * * * *
PREAKNESS, NEW JERSEY.
I have three old rabbits and two young ones. I used to have
twenty-six, but I sold some and lost some. Rabbits have very
interesting habits. Sometimes they sit up on their hind-feet and
wash their faces with their fore-feet.
I am trying to make a fresh-water aquarium. I had a fresh-water
lobster, two lizards, and some minnows, but they all died. Can you
tell me how to take better care of them?
JUDSON S. T.
We can not give you any fuller directions than are contained in the
papers on aquaria in YOUNG PEOPLE, Nos. 42 and 43.
* * * * *
MAYERSVILLE, MISSISSIPPI.
I have never written to the Post-office before, but now I wish to
say how very much I like this valuable little paper. I only
commenced taking it myself with No. 41, but before that I borrowed
it from a friend. I can not tell you how much I enjoy it. I believe
I liked the story called "Moonshiners" best of all.
I live on the Mississippi River in a very pretty little town.
GERTRUDE P.
* * * * *
PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.
I am so much obliged to YOUNG PEOPLE for all the stories and poems.
I wish all the children could see my parrot. She is the wonder of
the age. Every one that comes to our house is convulsed with
laughter at her laughing, crying, singing, and talking. She is
very impudent; and after imitating any one, which she does
capitally, she will roar with laughter, and cry out, "Oh, Polly,
how funny!" Sometimes she swears. Then she laughs again, and
cries, "Oh, you bad Polly!"
Will you tell me of some books of fairy tales for older children?
I think the story of "Photogen and Nycteris" was lovely.
MAY.
There are a great many books of fairy tales which even grown-up children
enjoy very much. _The Rose and the Ring_, by Thackeray, is delightful.
Miss Johnson's _Catskill Fairies_, relating how they amused a little boy
who was blocked in by a snow-storm, is a very fascinating book. Then
there are the fairy-books of Laboulaye and Macé, _Puss-Cat Mew_, _Queer
Folks_, _Tales at Tea-Time_, and other books by Knatchbull-Hugessen.
_Alice in Wonderland_ is also very entertaining; for although it is the
most absurd nonsense ever written, we pity the person too old to enjoy
it. _The Snow-Queen_, and other fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen,
are charming books for readers of any age.
* * * * *
ACCORD, NEW YORK.
The Post-office is a mile and a half away from where I live, but I
get YOUNG PEOPLE every Tuesday, and I can hardly wait for it. I
learn ever so much from it.
I have a little brother Henry, four years old, and a little sister
Eleanor, who is ten months. She is a great pet. My papa has two
mills here, and he is very busy, but he devotes a great deal of
time to our comfort and enjoyment.
MOLLY C. D.
* * * * *
NEW YORK CITY.
I have seen so very many letters about pets in the Post-office Box
that I thought I would write the story of a poor, lone, forlorn
chicken a friend of mine had.
This chicken was orphaned and thrown upon the tender mercies of
this world at the tender age of two days. Jet discovered it, and
brought it into the house. She fed it, and every night wrapped it
up in a flannel rag, and put it into a snug corner near the stove,
and took it out again in the morning. At last it grew so large Jet
considered it in the way, so one night she took it out to roost
with the other fowls on the grape-vine trellis. The next day Jet
found her Majesty waiting to be fed as usual, and every night she
had to lift her up on to the trellis. This continued about a
month, when Jet's patience gave way, and the poor chicken was
beheaded.
I enjoy YOUNG PEOPLE very much indeed. The stories I have liked
the most are "Photogen and Nycteris," the series by "Jimmy Brown,"
Bessie Maynard's long-worded letters to her doll, and "Who was
Paul Grayson?"
BERSIA.
* * * * *
I have a collection of twelve hundred and fifty postage and revenue
stamps, and I would like to exchange with readers of YOUNG PEOPLE
residing in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, or in
any part of Canada. Correspondents will please give the number of
stamps in their collection.
H. A. BLAKESLEY,
54 West Eighth Street, Topeka, Kansas.
* * * * *
I have no pets, but I have the dearest little brother that ever
lived, and I am going to have a present of a kitty. I like "The
Moral Pirates" and "Who was Paul Grayson?" very much.
I will gladly exchange flower seeds with Grace Denton, as I live
very far West.
LAURA C. MARSHALL, Greeley, Colorado.
* * * * *
We have been pressing a great many autumn leaves and ferns, and
would be glad to exchange them for flower seeds with any of the
readers of YOUNG PEOPLE. Correspondents will please mark the name
plainly on each package of seed.
BESSIE G. and ELIZA B. BARTLETT,
Greensburg, Green County, Kentucky.
* * * * *
I have a collection of postage stamps, and would like to exchange
with Harry Gustin, Eddie De Lima, Horace C. Foote, or with any
other readers of YOUNG PEOPLE. Correspondents will please send a
list of stamps they have to exchange, and of those they would like
in return.
E. M. DEVOE, P. O. Box 159, Mount Vernon,
Westchester County, New York.
* * * * *
Will "Wee Tot," or some other subscriber to YOUNG PEOPLE, send me
some sea-shells in exchange for feathers of the white crane and of
some other wild birds? I have also a petrified buffalo's tooth
which I will exchange for shells or quartz.
THEODORE PATCHEN,
Herman, Grant County, Minnesota.
* * * * *
I am collecting stamps, postmarks, and shells. I have to exchange a
good many Greek stamps and some shells.
ANDREW GUNARI,
Care of P. Gunari, New Rochelle, New York.
* * * * *
I enjoy knitting lace very much, but I would like some new
patterns. I have two that are wide, the oak-leaf and Normandy, and
one that is narrow and very easy. I will be glad to exchange any of
these for something new.
A class of the pupils in this school have just listened to "The
Moral Pirates," and enjoyed it very much.
ALICE C. LITTLE,
Institution for the Blind, Janesville, Wisconsin.
* * * * *
I would like to exchange postage stamps with any of the readers of
this interesting paper. I have some very rare stamps to exchange.
FRANK F. RICE,
109 East Seventy-ninth Street, New York City.
* * * * *
I like to read the letters in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.
I have three kittens, and a canary which is very tame. I go to
school, and am taking drawing lessons.
I will exchange postage stamps with any of the correspondents of
YOUNG PEOPLE. I am ten years old.
ARLINE M. SKIFF,
37 College Street, New Haven, Connecticut.
* * * * *
I would like to exchange eggs, copper ore, postmarks, and stamps
for coins or Indian relics.
S. B. FOSTER, Knowlton, P. Q., Canada.
* * * * *
HENRY R. H.--Yale College was chartered in 1701, and in the autumn of
that same year the school was opened in Saybrook, Connecticut. It was
removed to New Haven in 1716. In the first years of its existence it was
known as "The Collegiate School of Connecticut," but in 1718 the name
was changed to Yale College, as a recognition of gifts of valuable books
and considerable sums of money from Elihu Yale, who was a native of New
Haven, but who left his birth-place when a boy, and resided all his life
in either London or India. He amassed great wealth, and was for some
time Governor of the East India Company. He died in London in 1721.
* * * * *